The little pair of feet run on the wet tiles among puddles of water while the hands balance an umbrella in the shape of a bird with a beak. The face has a mix of delight on seeing the rain and fear on expecting the demon in the thunder. But yet the feet run ahead splashing water.
Trying different puddles. The hands sometimes dodge the umbrella instead to feel the little droplets. The eyes look for some roofs for refuge for a while. After a breath or two, the feet venture out again to find that perfect splash.
After testing many shallow ones, the place where all the tiles brought water is spotted. The large puddle is treaded into carefully, tested, and then there is ultimate delight! The face justifies this with the biggest smile ever when the largest possible splash is found at last!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
a hollow waiting to bear music...
A thing that was lying ignored in my house for a long time had recently caught my attention. A six-inch cheap wooden flute. My brother had been fooling around with it for a long time. I took it and just started playing on my own. My first goal was to find the traditional do-re-me notes on it. It was harder than a casio and easier than a guitar. Co-ordinating the (un)covering of the flute's finger holes was difficult than I'd imagined ... because here, to produce one note, I had to use 1-6 finger holes at a time.
Also, the sound of the note produced was not always in key. It depended on how well I'd covered the finger holes and also, how well I blew. It required immense control of air. I looked for the seven notes and with that done, I hurried along to put together a familiar tune. My favorite with any instrument is Doe-a-deer. So I started playing it, with numerous repetitions, off-key sounds, and improper use of finger holes, I got close to playing the song. I say close because I couldn't get the notes right for the end of the song. My forced audience was my sister and brother :) I made them listen and be patient with me when I went off-key to get that one clap of appreciation! They were generous too, my brother was a bit more amused and laughed loudly when I went off key which in-turn made me laugh and produce some more off-key notes!
All in all I had a great time playing the flute. After a long patch of boredom and emptiness, I felt accomplished (however small) and alive.
Also, the sound of the note produced was not always in key. It depended on how well I'd covered the finger holes and also, how well I blew. It required immense control of air. I looked for the seven notes and with that done, I hurried along to put together a familiar tune. My favorite with any instrument is Doe-a-deer. So I started playing it, with numerous repetitions, off-key sounds, and improper use of finger holes, I got close to playing the song. I say close because I couldn't get the notes right for the end of the song. My forced audience was my sister and brother :) I made them listen and be patient with me when I went off-key to get that one clap of appreciation! They were generous too, my brother was a bit more amused and laughed loudly when I went off key which in-turn made me laugh and produce some more off-key notes!
All in all I had a great time playing the flute. After a long patch of boredom and emptiness, I felt accomplished (however small) and alive.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Strange disconnection
It was noon. I took a train to go somewhere. I got down at a station and followed the hoard of people that got down from it. The people walked slowly for some distance and entered a dingy room with an old door. I reached for the knob, turned it and went in. The hoard of people had started to walk up a flight of stairs. From where I stood, I could see the flight of stairs led to a room made with walls of aluminum sheets. The people entered this room. I followed them. But by the time I began up the stairs the room shrank to the size of small box that could fit a 26" tv. It stayed at the level of my chest, so I bent down to see where the people had gone. And I wondered where they went or how they could fit in. As I was wondering about this, an old man spoke from behind. He had a white beard that reached his chest and white hair that reached his shoulder and had a fatherly expression. He said to another person in the room, "Lagta hai isne kabre dekh lee. (It seems she has seen the tombs.)"
These words sent a chill down my spine and I felt like I was in a parallel world of some kind from where I must escape! A woman to whom the man had spoken to, came forward looking at my expression and held my hand. She was in her mid forties and had a calm expression on her face. She brought my hand up to look at it. It had a small book with hard-bound back and thick card board pages. She took the book, held it under a lamp, and flipped the pages. She stopped at a page, tore it, and gave it to me saying, "This is your key, say Palayan* four times, you will escape." I stared at the piece of cardboard in my hand. It had a picture on it with the words P-Palayan.
I held on to it tightly, ran out of from there, and reached a road that forked into two. At the fork was a large green patch. A long time had passed since I reached there. I sat there with a Macbook and watched funny videos. The escape seemed forgotten. The clock at the top-right corner made me realize how much time I'd wasted there instead of escaping. Clutching the piece of paper tightly, I decided to shut down the laptop and say the word that'd help me escape. I switched off the machine, it felt like a minute but the machine did not shut down. It showed a progress bar to denote the time left to shut down. The bar had just started to fill - 10% complete. The progress bar crawled to the other end. I was now anxious. If I couldn't escape now, it would be never. But something told me this thing had to shut down. The more time the Mac took to shut down, the the hazier its interface became. I could see the color of the mouse through my hand. My hands were getting translucent and the grass beside me less greener like it was made of mist that slowly disintegrated.
I realized lying horizontal that I had to only open my eyes to escape, But what if, that wasn't the case? What if I lay trapped inside forever? I just had to say the words and get it over with. The Mac now remained only a sheer film of white... This was sheer stupidity I thought, just open your eyes and get it over with. But that's not how its supposed to work, she had said, say the word four times, and escape. Just when the grass was a sheer shade of light green, I shouted, Palayan, Palayan, Palayan, Palayan!
I was staring at the ceiling and the fan that ran at its usual speed. The TV, just as I had left it when I switched it off the other night. I took a long hard look at the room which was a hazy view since I didn't have my specs on. I didn't have the courage to open the hand that was closed in a tight fist. Daringly, I opened it, and found....nothing.
I breathed heavily, turned on my side, and still groggy, drifted off...
*Palayan in hindi means Flight.
These words sent a chill down my spine and I felt like I was in a parallel world of some kind from where I must escape! A woman to whom the man had spoken to, came forward looking at my expression and held my hand. She was in her mid forties and had a calm expression on her face. She brought my hand up to look at it. It had a small book with hard-bound back and thick card board pages. She took the book, held it under a lamp, and flipped the pages. She stopped at a page, tore it, and gave it to me saying, "This is your key, say Palayan* four times, you will escape." I stared at the piece of cardboard in my hand. It had a picture on it with the words P-Palayan.
I held on to it tightly, ran out of from there, and reached a road that forked into two. At the fork was a large green patch. A long time had passed since I reached there. I sat there with a Macbook and watched funny videos. The escape seemed forgotten. The clock at the top-right corner made me realize how much time I'd wasted there instead of escaping. Clutching the piece of paper tightly, I decided to shut down the laptop and say the word that'd help me escape. I switched off the machine, it felt like a minute but the machine did not shut down. It showed a progress bar to denote the time left to shut down. The bar had just started to fill - 10% complete. The progress bar crawled to the other end. I was now anxious. If I couldn't escape now, it would be never. But something told me this thing had to shut down. The more time the Mac took to shut down, the the hazier its interface became. I could see the color of the mouse through my hand. My hands were getting translucent and the grass beside me less greener like it was made of mist that slowly disintegrated.
I realized lying horizontal that I had to only open my eyes to escape, But what if, that wasn't the case? What if I lay trapped inside forever? I just had to say the words and get it over with. The Mac now remained only a sheer film of white... This was sheer stupidity I thought, just open your eyes and get it over with. But that's not how its supposed to work, she had said, say the word four times, and escape. Just when the grass was a sheer shade of light green, I shouted, Palayan, Palayan, Palayan, Palayan!
I was staring at the ceiling and the fan that ran at its usual speed. The TV, just as I had left it when I switched it off the other night. I took a long hard look at the room which was a hazy view since I didn't have my specs on. I didn't have the courage to open the hand that was closed in a tight fist. Daringly, I opened it, and found....nothing.
I breathed heavily, turned on my side, and still groggy, drifted off...
*Palayan in hindi means Flight.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
life choices..
Life always comes in the form of choices..
Some good, some bad..not necessarily the truth, but from my own perspective. Then I tend to think why cant you get everything in life? SOmetimes i just wish we had a mixer where we can mix all the good traits of our choices...life would be perfect that way wouldn't it?
but it would also be boring. there would be no excitement in life..everything would be the same. coz you know the same characteristics would repeat everytime. probably, then i would be bored of those same things i once liked...
Funny how life is. Or, funny how funny I have made life..
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Mumbai Locals anyone??
7:57 ST, 7:43 PL
first three compartment ladies or a whole Ladies special
Overflowing locals
Little kids reaching handles
Jalad local
Dheemi local
Check-your-weight-for-5-bucks machines
Handicapped compartment with silent movies
Fragrant fisher women
Hurried home-work completion
Huge lugguage compartments
Windows show sketchy apartments
Stylish women with laptops
Bollywood music or hiphop
Innocent hands with comics
Sales calls on naive lips
Glaring women with stepped-on sarees
Lone policeman for scenes with scaries
Incredibly incomprehensible announcements for incredibly fast trains
Almost-everything-sells-here agents for harbour-line slow trains
Work-from-home-starting-salary-15000! ads
Diversified jaats in Matrimonial ads
Sleepy heads on compartment walls
Sale hangars with smiley balls
Departure enquiry from fellow companion
Reserving seats to avoid exhaustion
Artificial jewelery that comes cheap
Soggy palak that lies in a heap
Women busy with crochet or knitting
Others fighting or teeth gritting
Medical students with fat books
Engineering students with math looks!
Teenage girls with high-pitched chatter
Quiet aunties who've felt better
Later hours are not so loud
Dying down with thinning crowds
Empty trains with lights shut-out
Last run for its night-out
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The assault on my senses
Yes, lately, my senses have been bruised and battered. The visual ones will be dead if I continue taking the assault any more.
It may sound funny when you hear it, but the daily Hindi soaps inflict this torture on me everyday (and I allow it to!).
I felt a new generation of soaps was coming up which would create awareness among the people about social issues. I was hopeful. But I was wrong. One such hope was the story of a slum child whose life was others’ leftovers. The story started well. But bloody went on the same track that others had so successfully used to glue unsuspecting housewives (no offence meant). The protagonist – the slum child – has a best friend – a rich kid – who longs for a friend. They both grow up continuing to be (supposedly) best friends.
The storywriter (I dunno who does this, I’m just giving a name) at this point I feel was completely out of his creativity (or maybe came under some other pressure). This I say because after bravely exploring the little nuances of a friendship so strange yet so true, the age-old formula of a love triangle (of all the things!) is used. And that too with the help of such feeble characters, that I can’t help but feel disgusted at their acting and dialog delivery. The protagonist of all the people lisps so heavily that I fail to suppress the irritation I feel when I hear it. That can still be ignored, if the behavior of the character was not a transverse wave with such deep crests and troughs. Sometimes, the character is so silent, that she can gulp all insult, humiliation and anger. And sometimes, she is so hyper and melodramatic (not to forget the stammering) that I feel like throwing a flowerpot at her! I don’t understand why all the death scenes need to have one hyper-ventilating female screeching at the top of her fricking voice! It’s just so unnatural; I mean you just can’t use the excuse that ‘this serial does not in any way depict real life people’. Also each expression is lengthened to 100 times the time it takes to actually show it. And the three-time-turning-of-the-head is a standing joke among my friends and family :D (well, they don’t do it so often now, but it just doesn’t feel complete without mentioning it :P )
I feel it was the serial maker’s strategy to stretch the episode to a full 30 mins, oh wait, let me rephrase, 25 mins. Because the remaining 5 mins (just a guess) are given to ads. Still, the actual story advances in a record 20 mins :P Because 5 more mins are used in the characters advancing in slow-mo and giving each other cold looks. J
Its amazing how after having so many complaints about these serials I manage to tolerate an episode. I think it’s the fun I get from evaluating and analyzing and sometimes ridiculing these stories that I enjoy. I feel, like the yin and yang, there are two types of soaps. First– the inspiring and feel-good types and second – the pathetically-scripted-so-stretched-that-a-rubber-band-would-be-ashamed types. Balance I guess. :D
Anyway, as they say:
All descriptions used in this post are fictional. Any resemblance to serials pathetic or good is purely coincidental. J
Monday, January 4, 2010
Goa in a few words...
happy
colorful
cheerful
vibrant
energetic
laser lights
fireworks
chilled-out
laid-back
coconut trees
sparkling waters
round pebbles
rocky beaches
sandy beaches
clear waters
shopping
firangs more than indians ;)
bike rides
cab rides
parties
Curlies
Artjuna cafe
hammocks
prawns vindaloo
spicy chicken curry
chai in tall glass
beans
banana pancakes
music
cancelled trains
busy buses
Friday, November 13, 2009
Out of Vegebernation...
Vegebernation - A state of hibernation in which 'Daily Ramblings..' went and almost became a vegetable!
This post is dedicated to two nagging sweet friends.. (yeah i know nagging is a bit exaggerated but its not in my blood to say things out straight)
One writes intermittent one-liner e-mails (usually starting with 'kamini') reminding me that I have a blog to write. And the other calls me from the U aaS of A (read local rates :P :D) to tell me the days she has returned from my blog seeing the post 'the silent movie' for the umpteenth time! Its amazing how these guys put up with me..and my sheer indifference (if i dare to call it that). So i just decided to cut it out when both my upset-with-seeing-the-same-post friends asked me (with a million exclamation marks!) when i was going to write my new post, on the same day. :D
I have thought long and hard about the book i am going to write (actually i was thinking more of how I could make the million bucks JKR made with her book :P). I thought long and hard and reached no conclusion. So we take another topic since we have nothing here.
We (means me n my office colleagues) went to aromas today. A coffee-shop facing our office building. I would give it a 3 on 10 for service, 8/10 for food and 6/10 (grinder noise..!!) for ambiance. The most we loved was the food. And i felt nice that I had something new—a Lebanese dish called Mezze Platter. Nice I would say, with 6-7 slices of thin roti-like bread and 3 types of dips. Chef's salad, Veg arabiata, Indian Spicy Chicken pasta and Hazelnut coffee filled our tummies for the rest of the day! AS if this coffee-shop was not enough...another one called 'Gloria's Jeans - the coffee shop' opened its doors to the posh locality. Taste Australia's coffee it seems. I sometimes wonder what would ppl really have to do to market and sell products that are already available in the same area. I know..give it a USP like, come, taste Australian coffee or something like that! :-/
Actually, one needs to be really brilliant to sell something that's already in the market....or do the ppl need to be really stupid to buy it?
PS: Your ruffling thru 'Daily Ramblings...' means a lot to me!
~Thank god for friends and family. Else, I would be a vegetable by now!~
This post is dedicated to two nagging sweet friends.. (yeah i know nagging is a bit exaggerated but its not in my blood to say things out straight)
One writes intermittent one-liner e-mails (usually starting with 'kamini') reminding me that I have a blog to write. And the other calls me from the U aaS of A (read local rates :P :D) to tell me the days she has returned from my blog seeing the post 'the silent movie' for the umpteenth time! Its amazing how these guys put up with me..and my sheer indifference (if i dare to call it that). So i just decided to cut it out when both my upset-with-seeing-the-same-post friends asked me (with a million exclamation marks!) when i was going to write my new post, on the same day. :D
I have thought long and hard about the book i am going to write (actually i was thinking more of how I could make the million bucks JKR made with her book :P). I thought long and hard and reached no conclusion. So we take another topic since we have nothing here.
We (means me n my office colleagues) went to aromas today. A coffee-shop facing our office building. I would give it a 3 on 10 for service, 8/10 for food and 6/10 (grinder noise..!!) for ambiance. The most we loved was the food. And i felt nice that I had something new—a Lebanese dish called Mezze Platter. Nice I would say, with 6-7 slices of thin roti-like bread and 3 types of dips. Chef's salad, Veg arabiata, Indian Spicy Chicken pasta and Hazelnut coffee filled our tummies for the rest of the day! AS if this coffee-shop was not enough...another one called 'Gloria's Jeans - the coffee shop' opened its doors to the posh locality. Taste Australia's coffee it seems. I sometimes wonder what would ppl really have to do to market and sell products that are already available in the same area. I know..give it a USP like, come, taste Australian coffee or something like that! :-/
Actually, one needs to be really brilliant to sell something that's already in the market....or do the ppl need to be really stupid to buy it?
PS: Your ruffling thru 'Daily Ramblings...' means a lot to me!
~Thank god for friends and family. Else, I would be a vegetable by now!~
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Silent Movie.
mornings for me are mostly a whir. get up just in time to catch the 7:35 local, without breakfast, and then lean on the train compartment and catch a few winks.
this time though i had a movie to watch. a guy got in the handicapped compartment. he looked pretty normal to be getting in there. it was when he started using sign language that i realized he was mute. his hands were moving fast to explain the happenings of probably the previous day to his companion. i tried hard comprehending his signs. to me it felt like he was explaining that he had gotten into a compartment by mistake and was fined. the narration involved, four women, one policewala and him i guess. the reason why i call it a movie was because the wall separating the ladies and the handicapped compartment had small windows across it at shoulder level. and the guy fit perfectly into one such frame. it was like watching a silent movie.
i was amazed at how fast he was communicating, and how expressive he was. that communicatng to someone for him was no big deal as long as someone had the patience to understand it. while i was wondering a thought came by. how must he answer his cell-phone? and i immediately laughed at my foolishness, for why would a mute man carry a cellphone? Just as I was getting back to deciphering his signs, he removed a black case from his pocket and pulled out a cell-phone! Of course! text messaging! how rude and stupid of me to think that cellphones were of no use to mute persons. Apologies!
something just got emphasized for me that morning ... whatever happens to make you powerless, 10 more things happen to make you powerful...or rather..you can create 10 more things to make you powerful. howzzat?
this time though i had a movie to watch. a guy got in the handicapped compartment. he looked pretty normal to be getting in there. it was when he started using sign language that i realized he was mute. his hands were moving fast to explain the happenings of probably the previous day to his companion. i tried hard comprehending his signs. to me it felt like he was explaining that he had gotten into a compartment by mistake and was fined. the narration involved, four women, one policewala and him i guess. the reason why i call it a movie was because the wall separating the ladies and the handicapped compartment had small windows across it at shoulder level. and the guy fit perfectly into one such frame. it was like watching a silent movie.
i was amazed at how fast he was communicating, and how expressive he was. that communicatng to someone for him was no big deal as long as someone had the patience to understand it. while i was wondering a thought came by. how must he answer his cell-phone? and i immediately laughed at my foolishness, for why would a mute man carry a cellphone? Just as I was getting back to deciphering his signs, he removed a black case from his pocket and pulled out a cell-phone! Of course! text messaging! how rude and stupid of me to think that cellphones were of no use to mute persons. Apologies!
something just got emphasized for me that morning ... whatever happens to make you powerless, 10 more things happen to make you powerful...or rather..you can create 10 more things to make you powerful. howzzat?
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Magic Lamp! Genie of Agrabah, HQ
Once, there was a little boy. He found a magic lamp. (We will discuss the discovery of the lamp a little later. For now you just assume that he has one.) How did he know it was magical you would ask? Well, it said "The Magic Lamp! Genie of Agrabah, HQ"
Having heard the story of Alladin and the magic lamp, the boy was very excited. He rubbed the lamp immediately expecting a Genie out of it any minute. What came out though was the sound of an answering machine. It said - "You've reached the Genie of Agrabah. Kindly leave your name and I will decide to call you on pre-set priority." The boy was baffled when he heard this. He had heard an answering machine for the first time. The electronic voice continued, "If you are my new master kindly fill form IAYNM500 (short for I Am Your New Master applicant 500.) that you will get at the end of this beep. Thank you, looking forward to your application." Beeeeeeep. And with that, a blue scroll popped out of the spout.
Even more confused, he picked up the blue scroll and did not know what to do next. With what he had done the day earlier, he was wondering whether to leave it where he had brought it from or to keep it with himself. Eager and confused at the same time, he opened the scroll only to get the shock of his life!
Having heard the story of Alladin and the magic lamp, the boy was very excited. He rubbed the lamp immediately expecting a Genie out of it any minute. What came out though was the sound of an answering machine. It said - "You've reached the Genie of Agrabah. Kindly leave your name and I will decide to call you on pre-set priority." The boy was baffled when he heard this. He had heard an answering machine for the first time. The electronic voice continued, "If you are my new master kindly fill form IAYNM500 (short for I Am Your New Master applicant 500.) that you will get at the end of this beep. Thank you, looking forward to your application." Beeeeeeep. And with that, a blue scroll popped out of the spout.
Even more confused, he picked up the blue scroll and did not know what to do next. With what he had done the day earlier, he was wondering whether to leave it where he had brought it from or to keep it with himself. Eager and confused at the same time, he opened the scroll only to get the shock of his life!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Fun on Panes...
This was one of the days announced as high-tide alert by our weather man.
Anticipating rains, we left the clouds behind on the Vashi bridge..
But they caught up with us @ Powai!
So we had to close the windows.. and it got reaaally stuffy!! :(
But then i realised...1 bus, rains outside, and whacky frends inside are the perfect recipe for a maad journey!! :)
Well...generally we all are pretty audible to the whole bus.. :P right from the driver to the guy who sits at the back..today we let the steam on the glass panes and our fingers running over it do some talking..
and yeah there were giggles and laughter. Well, what do u expect?? We're girls! :) (and THAT doesn't mean anything! :P)
Anticipating rains, we left the clouds behind on the Vashi bridge..
But they caught up with us @ Powai!
So we had to close the windows.. and it got reaaally stuffy!! :(
But then i realised...1 bus, rains outside, and whacky frends inside are the perfect recipe for a maad journey!! :)
Well...generally we all are pretty audible to the whole bus.. :P right from the driver to the guy who sits at the back..today we let the steam on the glass panes and our fingers running over it do some talking..
and yeah there were giggles and laughter. Well, what do u expect?? We're girls! :) (and THAT doesn't mean anything! :P)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
...that one piece in the Collage
The Mumbai local train is a collage of a million different pieces! Men, women, executives, teachers, bankers, stock brokers, managers, students, hawkers, and god knows how many more come together to make this splendid and ever expanding form!
Me - one such piece - was absorbed in observing (talk abt alliteration!!) another - an 8-9 year old boy carrying a polythene bag. About four feet high, dressed in a brown checkered uniform of a Mankhurd school, rubber slippers in his feet, leaning against the opposite partition. The bag he held had just been deposited by his hands with the plastic hangers he had removed about a minute ago to sell. The bag was a decoy lest he got caught. I wondered what time he must have left school to start his task. At 9:10 p.m. he wasn't making any effort to sell his wares, guess his day had ended. He peeked in the General compartment and took his position near the door. I looked at him for quite a while, there was a small scratch on his nose. He looked in the opposite direction of the moving train, maybe figuring out his next class, next sale tactic, his next customer, or maybe soemthing fun with his friends....
I wondered what it would be to be like him. To be eight, go to school, sell things in the train, complete home-work, help around the house, manage money. I don't want to mention the other things I dread. I dint want to imagine where he lived. Child labour in its most vivid form was right there in front of me...and I could not do a thing. I merely looked at him as he alighted at the next station and saw him disappear.
Me - one such piece - was absorbed in observing (talk abt alliteration!!) another - an 8-9 year old boy carrying a polythene bag. About four feet high, dressed in a brown checkered uniform of a Mankhurd school, rubber slippers in his feet, leaning against the opposite partition. The bag he held had just been deposited by his hands with the plastic hangers he had removed about a minute ago to sell. The bag was a decoy lest he got caught. I wondered what time he must have left school to start his task. At 9:10 p.m. he wasn't making any effort to sell his wares, guess his day had ended. He peeked in the General compartment and took his position near the door. I looked at him for quite a while, there was a small scratch on his nose. He looked in the opposite direction of the moving train, maybe figuring out his next class, next sale tactic, his next customer, or maybe soemthing fun with his friends....
I wondered what it would be to be like him. To be eight, go to school, sell things in the train, complete home-work, help around the house, manage money. I don't want to mention the other things I dread. I dint want to imagine where he lived. Child labour in its most vivid form was right there in front of me...and I could not do a thing. I merely looked at him as he alighted at the next station and saw him disappear.
Horcruxes in real...
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince! Its a pity the movie is named the same. There was almost nothing in it of the book...Disappointing is an understatement.
The part of the book I'd liked the most was not there in the movie at all! The story of Tom Riddle's loony mother and muggle-born father. How his father was bewitched by a love potion, and how the family heirloom was taken by Tom Riddle which would later become a Horcrux and contain a part of his soul...
The book has a brilliant yet dark concept. A rare form of magic that allows one to be immortal in parts! For that the being must rip the soul and contain it elsewhere like a locket or a ring. Although things like these come at a cost is what the author tries to tell us. And the price is the life of another. Really how dreadful can a person get to fulfill personal wishes...
I wondered how the author must have thought of such a thing. Must she have seen it in a metaphorical form somewhere? Forms which take away lives for their personal interest. They kill happiness, love, care, joy, oneness, peace. Once dead, they contain their own righteousness, hatred, selfishness, jealousy, anger in these empty shells. And that's how 'no possibility' becomes immortal!
The fact that Harry Potter destroys all those horcruxes is reassuring for a person like me. Because I personally like happy endings. And also gives me the thought that 'no-possibility' needs to be destroyed.... by the very things that were killed by it!
The part of the book I'd liked the most was not there in the movie at all! The story of Tom Riddle's loony mother and muggle-born father. How his father was bewitched by a love potion, and how the family heirloom was taken by Tom Riddle which would later become a Horcrux and contain a part of his soul...
The book has a brilliant yet dark concept. A rare form of magic that allows one to be immortal in parts! For that the being must rip the soul and contain it elsewhere like a locket or a ring. Although things like these come at a cost is what the author tries to tell us. And the price is the life of another. Really how dreadful can a person get to fulfill personal wishes...
I wondered how the author must have thought of such a thing. Must she have seen it in a metaphorical form somewhere? Forms which take away lives for their personal interest. They kill happiness, love, care, joy, oneness, peace. Once dead, they contain their own righteousness, hatred, selfishness, jealousy, anger in these empty shells. And that's how 'no possibility' becomes immortal!
The fact that Harry Potter destroys all those horcruxes is reassuring for a person like me. Because I personally like happy endings. And also gives me the thought that 'no-possibility' needs to be destroyed.... by the very things that were killed by it!
Monday, July 6, 2009
SOAKED!!
4th July ..
It has rained the whole day today. Constant showers from the skies kept everything clean. It was like today i had a heightened sense of color. Everything looked so fresh! There was every type of green i could imagine everywhere.
It was the perfect day for a picnic. Our wishes on Friday for a superb weather on Saturday for our picnic were granted. Sometimes all things don't have to go as planned. Although our visit to a certain waterfall bombed completely, it was a great experience! We reached the cloud-kissed hills that harbored the Pandavkada waterfalls quite early only to find out that its closed in the monsoons due to landslides. :( But our enthusiasm and readiness to try new things didn't die down. We kept walking in the rain and enjoyed every bit of it! Stone-made walls, wired fences, and large puddles of water were enough to bring out the child in each one of us... :) We climbed, splashed water, ran behind each other, cracked reaaaaaaallly pathetic jokes, laughed like mad...basically we went just plain nuts with the weather! ;)
I realized for the first time that i actually like getting wet in the rains..the raindrops touching my face every time i looked up, soaking my hair and trickling down my neck. When the rain caught momentum we were leaving. We were making a mistake leaving the pretty weather to be enjoyed by some other enthusiasts, only to be joined by the rains on the journey towards our friend's house.
Hot black lemon tea, pani puri, samosas, moong dosa, and the all time favorite Maggi kept the gastric juices in our stomachs some company. The picnic ended with some friends bidding an early goodbye and lazy conversations with the rest of us.
Fun, leg-pulling, enthusiasm, innovation, boldness didn't let our resolve to have a good day die. Really, what you plan, the place, doesn't matter as much as the people with who you are. Soaked I am with the rains, and every drop carries fulfillment!
It has rained the whole day today. Constant showers from the skies kept everything clean. It was like today i had a heightened sense of color. Everything looked so fresh! There was every type of green i could imagine everywhere.
It was the perfect day for a picnic. Our wishes on Friday for a superb weather on Saturday for our picnic were granted. Sometimes all things don't have to go as planned. Although our visit to a certain waterfall bombed completely, it was a great experience! We reached the cloud-kissed hills that harbored the Pandavkada waterfalls quite early only to find out that its closed in the monsoons due to landslides. :( But our enthusiasm and readiness to try new things didn't die down. We kept walking in the rain and enjoyed every bit of it! Stone-made walls, wired fences, and large puddles of water were enough to bring out the child in each one of us... :) We climbed, splashed water, ran behind each other, cracked reaaaaaaallly pathetic jokes, laughed like mad...basically we went just plain nuts with the weather! ;)
I realized for the first time that i actually like getting wet in the rains..the raindrops touching my face every time i looked up, soaking my hair and trickling down my neck. When the rain caught momentum we were leaving. We were making a mistake leaving the pretty weather to be enjoyed by some other enthusiasts, only to be joined by the rains on the journey towards our friend's house.
Hot black lemon tea, pani puri, samosas, moong dosa, and the all time favorite Maggi kept the gastric juices in our stomachs some company. The picnic ended with some friends bidding an early goodbye and lazy conversations with the rest of us.
Fun, leg-pulling, enthusiasm, innovation, boldness didn't let our resolve to have a good day die. Really, what you plan, the place, doesn't matter as much as the people with who you are. Soaked I am with the rains, and every drop carries fulfillment!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Complicated Gibberish
hgutfj tdyoiy9809867honiut jn j h9pj]pmo rwhhsdoheiohrdoyhewodhrekbdkbkxcbzx
dsakfiauoshdshan .84236497032409 fsdlkjfdsofhesdjfpowejrlk v 1248-29qk's,'df;
.... crack the code..mhuahahahahaha!!!
wat?? well, I had some very complicated and secret thoughts in my head today!!!
dsakfiauoshdshan .84236497032409 fsdlkjfdsofhesdjfpowejrlk v 1248-29qk's,'df;
.... crack the code..mhuahahahahaha!!!
wat?? well, I had some very complicated and secret thoughts in my head today!!!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Old Painting...
There's this painting I came across.
It was old, very old, had a tear in the corner..heavy overwriting of strokes at some places, thinning of colors at places, the canvas threads had started to separate..
The painting took time to catch my eye. Because I was overwhelmed by the details I'd just described. I was so lost in taking in every separating thread, every overwritten stroke, every thinning hue, that the picture it formed escaped my eyes..
I never saw that each thread of the canvas gave form to the silhouette of a mother and that of a child held carefully in her arms. Each hue brought life to the young cheek and the loving ripe hand. Each overwritten stroke was a mistake corrected. The colors however thinning still brought out the peace among them, the happiness, the love, the care.
The old oils had still all the elements of a brilliant painting..fine strokes, apt colors, strong canvas...all of them that held on.
But how would I ever know? I never went beyond...
It was old, very old, had a tear in the corner..heavy overwriting of strokes at some places, thinning of colors at places, the canvas threads had started to separate..
The painting took time to catch my eye. Because I was overwhelmed by the details I'd just described. I was so lost in taking in every separating thread, every overwritten stroke, every thinning hue, that the picture it formed escaped my eyes..
I never saw that each thread of the canvas gave form to the silhouette of a mother and that of a child held carefully in her arms. Each hue brought life to the young cheek and the loving ripe hand. Each overwritten stroke was a mistake corrected. The colors however thinning still brought out the peace among them, the happiness, the love, the care.
The old oils had still all the elements of a brilliant painting..fine strokes, apt colors, strong canvas...all of them that held on.
But how would I ever know? I never went beyond...
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Marine Drive..
The weather today morning was just awesome! As rightly mentioned by Pradnya (my friend at work)...in our company bus, it felt like we were going to a picnic..the only difference was the picnic spot was Lionbridge :D
The weather was just perfect for a day stroll along the marine drive or a beach. Which reminds me of marine drive..a 20 minute observation of the Queens necklace had put me to peace..ready to gobble some food at Gaylord. I sat on the Katta as we might call it facing the sea. The Mumbai skyline was a perfect symbolic representation of a metropolis. The waves came and lashed against the round custom-made stones..i always wondered on how much was spent just to get those ice-cream cone shaped stones made. Nevertheless, it added to the beauty.
The sea was so calm, quiet, save a for few lashing waves on the perfectly shaped stones. A part of it stretched as far as I could see. The waves further from the shore breathed slowly..as if a sea-god breathed inside. The waves though colored with the impurities of the city was a serene sight.
My back witnessed a contrasting buzz that owed its life to the city's lights and vrooms. @ 10:30 Mumbai did not seem ready to sleep..it only emphasized that the night was still young and a thousand things to be explored.
The weather was just perfect for a day stroll along the marine drive or a beach. Which reminds me of marine drive..a 20 minute observation of the Queens necklace had put me to peace..ready to gobble some food at Gaylord. I sat on the Katta as we might call it facing the sea. The Mumbai skyline was a perfect symbolic representation of a metropolis. The waves came and lashed against the round custom-made stones..i always wondered on how much was spent just to get those ice-cream cone shaped stones made. Nevertheless, it added to the beauty.
The sea was so calm, quiet, save a for few lashing waves on the perfectly shaped stones. A part of it stretched as far as I could see. The waves further from the shore breathed slowly..as if a sea-god breathed inside. The waves though colored with the impurities of the city was a serene sight.
My back witnessed a contrasting buzz that owed its life to the city's lights and vrooms. @ 10:30 Mumbai did not seem ready to sleep..it only emphasized that the night was still young and a thousand things to be explored.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Lattice of memories..
A mind is an intensive web of thoughts. Each strand a thought. Some old, some new. The old ones weaker, the new ones stronger.
But still there are some really old ones that are stronger than the most recent ones. They are like the Banyan roots, older the deeper and deeper the stronger.
Like
the hug my mom gave me when I feared failing, the smell of the rains on my first day of school, the fresh feel of crisp new notebooks, the fragrance of Paarijaat flowers in the colony, the chaos of the lunch break bell and the silence of the statue bell, the sting of dettol on a fresh knee wound, the taste of ice-cream bought from saved paisas, the scoldings in KG for exploring the terrace, the pain in knees for kneel-down punishment, the night-out before an exam and drowsiness while writing the paper (:D), the anxiety in the last 10 minutes of an exam paper, the racing heart beats when the winning house was declared, the thrill of finding 20 paise in a raincoat pocket...
A brilliant lattice I feel like getting lost in.. :)
Alas, the new strands call forth..get set to make more such lattices..
But still there are some really old ones that are stronger than the most recent ones. They are like the Banyan roots, older the deeper and deeper the stronger.
Like
the hug my mom gave me when I feared failing, the smell of the rains on my first day of school, the fresh feel of crisp new notebooks, the fragrance of Paarijaat flowers in the colony, the chaos of the lunch break bell and the silence of the statue bell, the sting of dettol on a fresh knee wound, the taste of ice-cream bought from saved paisas, the scoldings in KG for exploring the terrace, the pain in knees for kneel-down punishment, the night-out before an exam and drowsiness while writing the paper (:D), the anxiety in the last 10 minutes of an exam paper, the racing heart beats when the winning house was declared, the thrill of finding 20 paise in a raincoat pocket...
A brilliant lattice I feel like getting lost in.. :)
Alas, the new strands call forth..get set to make more such lattices..
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Threadbare? Nah!
Apologies for writing after a week! This commitment thing is really demanding and takes away all your power if you don't keep it!
My head is filled with a lot of internal noise. I cannot distinguish it from the noise outside.
A lot of noise outside. A lot of strands snapping. Thread-strands that connect me to the various aspects of my life. Many of these are snapping. Each strand snaps one by one. With each snap, all the things that I love and take for granted are getting away from me and I am threatened with desertion. Friends, family, hobbies. Strand by strand, thread by thread, they're all getting weak.
One thread seems to be stronger, much stronger than the others... It seems to be taking up all the time. So much so that it is not a thread anymore, but has turned into a giant serpent that threatens to swallow me if I lose control. Sadly it is what gives me my roti and kapda (not yet makaan). So the 'need' to tame this giant.
I'd like to think of it as a huge thestral (black-winged creepy horse-like animals, again, if you had to read this to understand it, go scold yourself for not reading harry potter!) I have to ride and reach the skies! Cause I can't particularly ride a serpent right, it would be really funny! I'd sit on its neck and slide right down! And obviously the serpent wouldn't take it in a happy spirit either, using his body like a slide! LOL. So yeah, I'll continue with Thestrals. Just like thestrals, this thread looks dark and creepy but it is what might help me reach the heights. It is such paradoxes that amuse and sooth the human mind, aint it? A relief that sinister looking things might also have some good in them. If i be with this thread and give it what it requires, it will take me places..! Or maybe not. But atleast it won't try to gobble me up!
Thankfully the snapped strands demand much more, aren't that weak, and have held on tight!
Its how you look at things, really! Isn't it?
My head is filled with a lot of internal noise. I cannot distinguish it from the noise outside.
A lot of noise outside. A lot of strands snapping. Thread-strands that connect me to the various aspects of my life. Many of these are snapping. Each strand snaps one by one. With each snap, all the things that I love and take for granted are getting away from me and I am threatened with desertion. Friends, family, hobbies. Strand by strand, thread by thread, they're all getting weak.
One thread seems to be stronger, much stronger than the others... It seems to be taking up all the time. So much so that it is not a thread anymore, but has turned into a giant serpent that threatens to swallow me if I lose control. Sadly it is what gives me my roti and kapda (not yet makaan). So the 'need' to tame this giant.
I'd like to think of it as a huge thestral (black-winged creepy horse-like animals, again, if you had to read this to understand it, go scold yourself for not reading harry potter!) I have to ride and reach the skies! Cause I can't particularly ride a serpent right, it would be really funny! I'd sit on its neck and slide right down! And obviously the serpent wouldn't take it in a happy spirit either, using his body like a slide! LOL. So yeah, I'll continue with Thestrals. Just like thestrals, this thread looks dark and creepy but it is what might help me reach the heights. It is such paradoxes that amuse and sooth the human mind, aint it? A relief that sinister looking things might also have some good in them. If i be with this thread and give it what it requires, it will take me places..! Or maybe not. But atleast it won't try to gobble me up!
Thankfully the snapped strands demand much more, aren't that weak, and have held on tight!
Its how you look at things, really! Isn't it?
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Loooooooooooooooooooooooooooong day!
got back home just a few minutes ago..was at the Landmark forum evening session for assisting. the evening started at 7:30 and continued till 11:30..
it means i devoted this time to be part of a support system for a great evening, without which the evening cannot thrive. What i took back from it is my ability to share about what i got from my forum with complete strangers!
ALso the fact that i got stopped by people's reasons, when it came to people's registration, i gave up on their reasons, never got their concerns, and pacified my self with being content that i did not end up pressurizing them.
I revisited my guest lecture and my landmark forum evening tonight and that for me was a refresher! :)
it means i devoted this time to be part of a support system for a great evening, without which the evening cannot thrive. What i took back from it is my ability to share about what i got from my forum with complete strangers!
ALso the fact that i got stopped by people's reasons, when it came to people's registration, i gave up on their reasons, never got their concerns, and pacified my self with being content that i did not end up pressurizing them.
I revisited my guest lecture and my landmark forum evening tonight and that for me was a refresher! :)
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