Blah !

Now

2011-04-17T13:15:00.001+05:30

the sky could be blue, I don't mind.

Without you its a waste of time.

The sky could be blue, could be gray without you I just slide away.
The sky could be blue, I don't mind, without you it's a waste of time.

Scan & Tell

2009-08-19T14:20:00.002+05:30

I wish I had an an anti-virus fixed on me. That would scan & quarantine every few seconds and relieve me of the burden of medications.

Ze Germans are coming!

2009-06-26T20:31:00.021+05:30

One of my birthday gift from M was 'Culture Shock! Germany' by Richard Lord, an Englishman who has certainly written well and done his homework, and mostly so, to warn Americans and the British of what to expect in Germany.

BUT certainly not enough for an average Indian, so here I proceed forth to do just that!

On ze roads where Mercedes travel like autorickshaws,
These pointers are for those who do have an international license and plan to use it for the few days of stay.
- Driving on the far left of the road and putting your right hand to turn right cannot be understood by Germans at all. It is such a logical gesture, yes. For the bengalis, please understand that this includes vice versa also.
- A thing to panic. Never in the book, did Lord mention the most sacred custom we follow in India regarding driving: Honking.
- They do not have reversing tunes, sadly we cannot play Kuch Kuch Hota Hai while backing up. Or also, Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Ghum, for that matter. Oh Karan, how ghum is that!
- Indian man, on ze highways, you see an empty wall or bushes and you feel like pee pee, better wait till you get home.
- Speed cameras are attached to take pictures of you and your license plate if you overspeed. So smile nicely.
- Cyclists can rejoice, since there are paths specially truly for cycles only, but no cycles in the highway. They are very strict about that.
- One way roads, mean one way roads only. B-O-R-I-N-G!

Cuisine Queries
Certain etiquettes that one need to follow at the dinner as well as restaurant tables.
- Burping is not considered as satisfaction of eating a well cooked meal.
- Similarly, making noises while eating the food, does not mean relishing it.
- Leaving ten cents at the table, for the bill does not mean tipping. Yes Yes, I know ten cents is more than 5 Rupees. What to do?
- Before eating, make sure everyone's plates are also filled, and then say 'guten apetit' before taking a bite. This is also even before dipping your finger and licking.
- Licking the finger and other parts of hand is restricted even after saying 'guten apetit'. Failing to do so, apparently will not insult the host.

Traveling by bus, train and other public vehicles, no share auto available
- Running and mounting buses and trains will end up you looking like george george george of the jungle. They have doors which all work.
- Please buy ticket. For bus, bus ticket, for train, train ticket.
- The stranger/passenger sitting next to you, should remain stranger/passenger for the rest of the journey. Should not make friendship with him, invite him for dinner and afterward one day to your marriage. Special note to Iyer mami's - Please do not start networking at anytime of the day at any place.
- Special note to marwaris as well, in train journeys, groundNUTbreaking and littering the shells all over the floor conventions restricted. Because no handicap man to clean them.
- The book said, 'Ze Germans are known for their precision in regard to time. So all trains and buses run on time.'

ON TIME? New phrase, program new phrase into indian minds, processing, processing, system error.

At your home, with ze neighbours...
- Love thy neighbours, from a long arm distance.
- Do not knock at their house, at unruly hours (which is all the time) for a little bit of sugar or coffee powder or anything at all. Because, in Germany there is no ration card.
- Germans love their pets and treat them like family. If you have a dog, do not EVER tie him. And if you don't tie your bowbow, he might go pee pee on the neighbour's mercedes, which is also forbidden. Yes, difficult situation, figure it out.
- If you live in rented house, pay rent regularly. Even if you live for 15 years in the same house paying rent, the house does not become yours. Only rent increases.
- If you live in apartments, do not play Suprabhatham loudly at 5 AM. I think Germans neither like M.S. nor Venky.
- Hanging laundry in the balcony, window rails, foyer, corridors, terrace, on the satellite dishes, cable wires are a strict no no.
- Plumbers, electricians, meter reading man, gas man, carpenters and every other service man makes appointment and are on time. On time time on on timon imont monty python. system error.

At regular and government offices, you should
- be on time. *sigh*
- make your own coffee/tea. Because no chaaiwalahs, because no tea kadais, because no chetans (must be the only place)!

We the people, To the people
- White skinned people are common, so do not gawk at them. Get binaculors.
- Just because somebody looks old, one should refrain from calling/ prefixing/suffixing thatha/patti/chacha/brother/sister/amma. Germans do not like to be our relatives.

(Bournvita Surprise Quiz: Write the correct answer: All _______ are my brothers and sisters. a.germans b.indians c.indians but not NRI's.)

- Nurses are not sisters
- Pinching a chamathu oh-so-chweeet-kid's cheek, might be considered an physical assault on the child.
- And if any German mama (uncle) is constantly showing affection to your child all the time, then something is definitely wrong about it.

Note: References to different races in this post by the author should be taken with Indian seriousness regarding time and German treatment regarding their pets (and simbly not the other way around). Ze author is not a racist, except when it comes to mallu's, golts, mumbaiwallah wannabe's, americans, chinese, women drivers, pomerenian dogs and brahmin iyer mamis. What to do?

sigh

2009-06-01T21:18:00.002+05:30

And it starts. All over again.

Unsung Lullaby - Episode 3

2009-05-14T09:49:00.005+05:30

i love you
you love me
we are a happy family
with a great big hug
and a kiss from me to you
won't you say love me too

- to my kutti ponnu!

Brunch Buzz

2009-03-20T11:56:00.006+05:30

Days like these are hard to come by,
From waking up to winding down,
when the music you listen is synchronized,
and the people you meet are pleasant & loving.
From that dress that fits the mood you are in,
when house is messy, you don't mind,
and a tea that blends just about right,
sealed with a coffee-tinged kiss,
everything is as it should be,
Days like these are hard to come by.

Blighted

2008-10-21T16:57:00.002+05:30

*Ahem* Do Workaholics Anonymous Groups exist?

Liar Liar

2008-09-26T12:40:00.004+05:30

Now, there is nothing called a small lie and a big lie. Its a lie. Period.

Hip Hop

2008-08-13T16:00:00.004+05:30

detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment detachment attachment

system error.

Bedlam!

2008-08-08T02:43:00.001+05:30

"

!"

Peace in Pieces

2008-07-30T16:40:00.017+05:30

Lately there had been quite an inner struggle, I was my own adversary. Living I found, is completely filled with decisions and responsibilities and an irresistible urge to let go of both and be free of thought and leave all the decision-making to someone wiser and be wild. I don't think I have ever been this controlled, by myself. Its like, pinning the pallu of the saree and showcasing calm, when all you ever want to do is a free flowing experience. See that border in the photograph above. I hate it

I waited for some inner voice to shout out loud, and that did not happen. Sometimes talking helps, but somehow this only led to further irrational judgments that after a point, I came to not-trodden path. Or so I thought. Turns out everyone chose the same one but was just as discreet not to leave any footprint behind.

The war. Between tradition and modernity. Between values that were taught a thousand fold and what the heart desires. And between irrationality and sensibility. The same war that took place eons ago for the wrong reasons. Now returns back for the right ones.

But now you noticed that I said "There had been an inner struggle". Yes, my decision is made. And quite happy about it and looking forward to a celebration and unforgettable moments. I wonder, I do wonder if everyone goes through this struggle, or makes up their mind head-on. I think by struggling, I valued and left some meaning to my tradition (quite proud of it). And by deciding, I chose to believe in myself. And hence clearer.

Lack of green in my blog for a long time. Hence the picture. From my Munnar trip. Love the colour and the mist.

I see I am ever changing.

You know you're an adult,

2008-06-18T14:36:00.008+05:30

when seeing stuff scattered everywhere, makes you go *tch**tch*

when you hear yourself advising someone about the negative effects of alcohol (..the what??).

when you ask your mum, 'So what happened to Selvi in that serial?'.

when listening to hard rock, makes you frown. (you mean its not just bad taste?)

when your vocal chords itch to ask the person sitting next to you, 'Where did you buy that saree? Romba besha irukke!'

when seeing cockroaches does not whatsoever incite the need to scream and get to a higher surface but reach out to thennam-thodappam and run behind it saying, 'Va di va, romba naala for you only waitings'.

For those of you who answered yes to all of the above, please get one big coupon of 'get a life' - available at Ranganathan street, Pondybazaar - Aadi discount.

For the others who ticked only two like me (guess which ones for extra beer), join me in celeberating the world of youngisthan, of beers and mars big bars.

Happy birthday me!

ahem ahem

2008-06-07T07:14:00.000+05:30

This warm fuzzy chocolate-gooey damp-earthy rainy drizzled sunny light brown pages of old enidblyton-magic-faraway-tree-booky twinkilng eyed wizardy seat-by-garden-windowy goosebumpy water splashing pure white turkish towely transparent kaleidoscope bubbles blowing potpourried soft candle-scented afternight deep-crease-marked bed followed by orange-glowing sun rise cuddly soft petaly quilted autumn leafy spring dewy wrinkly old crispy new moonlighty-beachy toe digging sandy music windy jazzy silence chattery li'l-hoppy-happy footsteps jumping in the air eyes naughty glinty tom n jerry edelweissy and a wayward random smile every now and then to top it. What eet ees, this?

Mae May!

2008-05-26T06:26:00.002+05:30

Too much of a good thing can be wonderful!

Forever and ever and ever

2008-05-13T15:19:00.006+05:30

What is forever really?

I've lived an odd twenty years of conscious life. And I guess I'll survive a maximum of say, fifty more? By which time, I am expected from the society to marry, have kids, survive parenting, watch my kids grow up, marry them off and await my grand kids. Sure it occupies most of those left-out years.. and all this are but checklists in our lives, and then what happens after we 've ticked each one of 'em?

What is forever, really?

My forever is going to be these fifty years after which I reincarnate because of my karma or go to heaven or hell for the judgement day or just perish. When I stop living and all the other people who know me, stop living, where is the evidence that I walked this earth? So actually, the word forever for me spans only fifty years, my validity.

So what is 'love you forever'?

Till your life ends? Till their life ends? In these times, when everything is short, fast and twenty four hours passing too soon, days and months are a marathon, somehow it seems that for love to survive each day itself is an achievement. And for it to survive fifty years is definitely a fantasy.

When each of us think about our grandparents, we'd have never thought them young and reckless and sixteen. To think each of us have to learn and understand from our mistakes, make amends and go in the pursuit of happiness,

... fifty years suddenly seem so short.

An afterthought, does the society checklist match with yours?

Unsung lullaby - Episode 2

2008-04-21T12:01:00.004+05:30

Its been scorching heat for the past 58 years of my dad's, 53 years of mum's and 23 years of my life in namma chennai. Somehow the three-winged Polar fan of yesteryears satiated our needs, never once appa sought for electronic cooling facilities . Now we got a brand new 1.5 LG AC fixed in a matter of four and a half hours when we heard two month old kutti ponnu is coming to town.

Happy two months darling.

Fool's Day

2008-04-01T02:00:00.000+05:30

When the gods lay await
for their turn to play
they found in me, their pawn.

WarbleRambler

2008-03-19T22:04:00.003+05:30

So I feel like writing. Lots. No deep insights, no analysis. This one is going to come out as I think. That was a warning, by the way for those who might read. Because most of my friends, when I voice out my thoughts stay kms away from my perimeter.

Well, life is ok. Going on. I wouldn't call it full though. I haven't drawn for ages. Usually both (Pre n me) when we get our clients (I should be kidding when I say clients, cos not one of them morons, had color or practical sense), we sit together and start scribbling / sketching and then combine the two and take the best and make a new design out of it (read - take off all the nice colours, use bright colors such that client agrees, such that anyone who sees our work would be rendered color blind immediately or in near future and hence we become famous, yay!). For this simple reason I (cant believe) actually miss my shitty job. Because whenever our sir used to get out of meetings with directors (another breed of morons(Would you believe, one of 'em said - sir, i want a design for an erotic song set *huh* - nicely worded sugar coated words for a porn song - Now that people, wherein lies the future of tamil cinema) ) and other clients, he used to give us also a set of rough instructions such that we could come up with new ideas. Though he used to 'borrow' our sketches, he made sure we drew everyday. Now I see all those sketch books and a sort of woe befalls on my face. Though I've the time now, I found myself sitting with the sketch book with a blank page and a pencil and not even as much as a single stroke staring back. (I'm certain, you guys are still stuck on the erotic song-set idea)
Actually the job helped. I learnt what should NOT be in a set. What design NOT to do. What prop NOT to purchase and how NOT a script should be. And actually, this is not just applicable to the job, but to people also. How NOT to behave/ work/ be unorganised.

I need to draw. I really need to do something with my hands. So what exactly I'm going to do about it, I dont know yet.

I realised that I've quite a few responsibilites now. Pre and myself always used to joke that we were never destined to earn too much money because it never stayed with us. Very true. Definitely for me. I for one if I see something that I know somebody would love to have it, will immediately splurge into getting it, even if I'm close to bankruptcy ( I remember when I had Rs.48 and the banker was giving me pretty odd stares when i asked for a new chequebook). I am quite a generous person ( a character that doesnt suit this millenium I found - Hey! Dont pity me, did I hear *tsk**tsk*). And never was in dire need of money for myself. Now when I see my niece, I want to get her so many stuff and slowly realised that I really need to start getting a constant sum into my account. And she is not the only one whom I want to pamper.

I am sick of budgets. I am sick of looking for discount rates and searching for things and gifts in a less costly store and calculating before coming to the bill counter to check and recheck whether I really need those items I put on my trolley on an impulse. I cannot go on like this. And I wont. And I absolutely hate taking loans from my friends. Because that is like spending the money you never know when you could replace. And even when you do get cash in the future, you realise that you've already spent it. I used to take my bike to the other ends of the city (for work ofcourse) simply because I would not have cash to take an auto. I've done two hour rides back and forth in disastrous rains and scorching heat. All this in the name of internship (read - Yoohoo! No cash plus beaucoup d' NOT - experience)

Ofcourse there are these relatives who are extremely curious as to know what I do and pop the question at every get-together, to whom I retort back, 'freelance design'. To which each of 'em ask for explanations. If there is one relative I've not yet been answerable to, I think that would be my barely-one-month-old niece. I mean, these are the same old iyer mami's who sit and chat with other mami's over indefinite cups of BRU kapi's (definitely a post coming up solely dedicated to them) come up with prosperous groom/bride proposals to unknown innocent lives like me and they ask career questions not for the want of knowing their ward better, but to store the information in their match-making part of brain (next to it is where our own brand of soapoperatic mega-serial scripts also lie ready to be commanded at a nano-second). I mean, these breed of female actually, are very satisfied when you say you work in Infosys/ Wipro (This is one helluva magic word) or any other software infested companies.. and nod their heads like Tanjore cows as if they completely understand the innerworking of JAVA and even assess your salary almost perfect than your HR executive but ask me (freelance design- how clearer can I get) about 20GB worth of Bournvita Derek O Brian quizz questions about what I do and how I do and where I do, all the while trying to guess if I fit their perfect plaster-of-paris-cast of bride in demand. To all those with 'whats-your-gothram' ridden diseased aunties, for heaven's sake and the eligible boy's, please look ELSEWHERE.

Ok, I am going to stop rambling on. I am going to concentrate on my ok side of life.

I am actually not giving it enough credit. Its doing more than ok. Life is colourful in more than ways than one. First, mom is being supportive about me being at home and not conquering the world. Music has become a new dimension in my life since I had not been giving the due attention all these years. And afore all this, (I have a lapse of right words here) discovering a new self, a someone whom I'm hardly able to recognise beyond wit / unwit (not a word, I know, but you get the flow dude). And I love the fact that I'm not being precise because I myself find the unpredictability that actually renders me incognito to myself. Does it make sense to you?

Well, I think I have reached the ultimatum in 'blah' itself today. Here is me, sans career plans, sans healthy bank accounts, sans any plans to achieve any of the former. . and I find people do love me, still. And spare time to listen to me. Can it get any more bare? Maybe thats where I derive my strength from. That there are no expectations (definitely not from iyer mami's) cast on me to overshadow my longings to experiment. Sometimes it helps and sometimes, not.

Chamaeleonidae

2008-03-10T15:04:00.007+05:30

I am the murderer who heard your cry,
while my tyres rode on, tearing you,
was it plain anguish I heard,
of the dearth of the moments in your life?

Did I distort the kaleidoscope of your disguise?
Oh Chameleon, what colour did you choose to adorn death?
Was it plain blood red
or that black hole of hopeless hope
or the greys that decays the brightest nature?

Forgive me so,
for growing into someone with unwarranted beliefs
that, all other are insignificant beings,
when actually handicapped by an additional fifth sense,
while you had as much life in you as me,
maybe even more colours my canvas ever knew.

While we paved more roads, and forced you into oblivion,
while we called you pests, and cut more trees, guiltless.
And made you live in our cemented lives,
Did you choose that dark grey of the road to disguise death?

I am the murderer who heard your cry,
my tyres rode on, tearing you.
Frost bitten anguish I heard,
of the dearth of the moments in your life.

Unsung lullaby - Episode 1

2008-02-29T09:43:00.002+05:30

Its amazing how all of us are madly in love without expecting nothing in return, with this little thing that cries, feeds, poops and sleeps all day long.

Baby's day out!

2008-02-22T11:04:00.006+05:30

I am in Manipal hospital on the 11th floor in a suite with my absolutely beautiful niece all bundled up in soft blue quilt blissfully sleeping and her mother beside her. Yesterday after causing quite a frenzy my sister delivered this bundle of joy at 22:07 hrs. There were few complications during labour and my mom and myself and chechi were standing and praying hard in the outside corridors. We broke into tears when my brother-in-law rushed out of the delivery room bursting with the happy news. 'Its a gal', and he literally choked on his own words.. and then the nurses got the baby outside. The baby was so pink and so ga-ga-goo-goo. I've no idea what exactly it means.. but thats the word that comes to my mind. Our langugage has taken quite a turn. We've all resorted to baby talk, and all sorts of cooing noises and funny all of us can exactly understand what the other person means.. should do it more often I feel, very meditative.

There is going to be a series of this post as and when I can find time to write in. Quite delighted to be an aunt, I say!

Oh! she just had her first poop!

Earthsync Festival

2008-02-13T18:18:00.003+05:30

Two buddhist monks, two percussionists from Israel, a violnist, a sitar player, a flautist, three sufi singers, puli vesham, two makudam players, a french base guitarist, two vocalists, two contemporary dancers..

Sometimes its hard to pen down words when it can only be felt. With the concert in another three days, rehersal days, cozy evenings, nothing can be more pleasing. To top it, in another ten odd days, I'm going to become an aunt!

I think I'll leave it at that. I have too much music in my head right now to search through vocabulary.

I learnt,

2008-01-23T11:21:00.000+05:30

that there are only illiterates in this world. I will never call a person uneducated.

Search for the Bodhi Tree

2008-01-16T19:56:00.000+05:30

Place - Tashi Lhumpo Monastery

Location - 200 kms from Mysore
How to get there - KSRTC Bus, Kushal Nagar Busstop
Ticket cost - Rs.47

So after fixing the date with my Monk friend 'Lama' Lobsang Norbu ('Lama' means monk.. hence Dalai Lama) I started from Mysore at 10.30am on a saturday morning with a backpack and waterbottle. I always travel with atleast two books for company. So started my first one, 'Memoirs of Geisha' when I boarded the bus. The bus I was in had quite a number of chinky faces, made me wonder for some time. Then I got absorbed into the book. Needless to say, reading about a Japanese Geisha and surrounded by chinky eyed people was quite a start for the two-day journey.

I've taken upto reading books that have been made into movies. Its very interesting to see how the stories are adapted to screenplays and then finally the screen. Though more on that later, on another day, in another post.

I reached the Kushal nagar busstop at 1.00. I was greated by two monks, one, my friend, the other, the driver for the monastery. Imagine, after all that book talk about the monk who sold his ferrari.. I guess these guys settled down to a Qualis, that was parked to pick me up! After I had lunch while they had 'chai' which they pronounced as 'cha' and finally reached the monastery by 2:30.

The way to the monastery brought that unknown calmness, that the city-bred-us are unfamiliar about. It was green, greener fields, sunflowers popping out of nowhere, and lush vegetation.. And tibetan people all around! Only after reaching there, I found that there were tibetan communities of about 5000 and more people all around!

We reached and they put me up in their guest rooms, which I fell in love with. It had two beds, one by the window which opened up to such greenery that I felt quite pampered. And the windows themselves opened in such a way that you could sit with your legs dangling ouside.

I was told about their very simple schedule.
6.00 - 8.00am - Chanting and breakfast + Cha
11.30 - Lunch - Dal + chaawal
3.00 - 4.30pm - Chanting + Cha
6.00 - Dinner
6.30 - 78.00 - Chanting + Cha + Debates

When I said I was in a guest house, it is necessary you should understand the geography. I suppose the monastery area covers about 4-5 acres.. which housed The monastery, rooms for all the monks, the place/ hall where lunch and dinner was served, the guest house and a small hospital and a two floor place which had libraries and a grand room for Dalai Lama to stay if he visited. So all these were connected as a small colony.

My room was in the first floor and the ground floor had a small shop and canteen maintained by monks, thankfully a PCO+STD+ISD. I had to let one of my friends know that there existed people who drank more Chai than us! After a few calls, I left for 3.00pm chanting.

Tea that is served, is very light and very sweet. And is served during the chanting! by the kutti monks. It was so cute to see small ones running around with huge kettles to serve all of us. The monastery I was staying in, hosted 300 monks. I used to always think, that monasteries are pretty strict places, and I was surprised first to be allowed to sit with them during chanting, also allowed to take photos. But to be served tea and eatables, was quite unexpected. The smaller ones whom I was seated next to, peeped at me, once in a while out of curiousity and chanted vigorously when I caught them. They were absolutely adorable. Wanted to grab one and bring him with me.. Little ones, with shaven heads and red attires and so shy.. and the chants! Oh, the chants, all two hundred odds did not once go out of tune. It really calms your mind, to just let go off all thoughts and dwell in those tibetan verses. Almost all chants were in Raagam Mohanam. This raagam itself is so pleasing.. almost all chinese/jap songs are based on this raagam.. We have used it quite a lot in our films too.. typical example would be, 'Sayonara, sayonara' in the movie 'Love in Tokyo'. 'Return to Innocence' by Enigma also falls under this raagam. They also used the long horns quite a lot, the same one that was played in my concert.

At 4.30, when the chanting was about to get over, the children started fidgetting and they rushed out, just like how we did when the school bell rang.. the monks I heard, join the monastery at the age of 5. Nobody is forced to stay in the monastery. Not all of them stay. They had lost some monks over the years, though it was a small percentage. And what do they do after becoming a monk? They engage in buddhist studies. Turns out, they have colleges, Buddhist universities some 5 kms away.

As I was trying to gather information about their life, I came across a small rundown place, right next to my guest house. I walk in and see Tibetan paintings being done on canvas! The lines and the colours were extremely beautiful. I saw them as they were being sketched and painted. And there were so many tibetan gods that I lost the count. They also have God of love, of wealth etc. The style was very different and very detailed. I was given a tour of the monastery. I met the head of the monastery who gave me a very warm welcome. After which I was taken to the places I mentioned above. They also had a small vegetation land, when the monks grew their own vegetables and fruits. They even had a basement factory where incense sticks were made. The hospital had a swiss nurse who I met earlier as she was staying in the room next to mine. She again welcomed me and we chat for sometime. All this while, I saw little monks studying in their own corner spaces. One video which I had already uploaded.

By the time I was done with the tour it was back to the monastery for chanting. And this time, it was outside on the grounds. It was becoming a little cold though the monks had no problem. I was shivering and sitting with them trying to take photos and videos of the chant.

After which I returned back to the guest house canteen to have soup and eat a tibetan food called Momo. This was a wheat flour mix stuffed with spinach and paneer inside and is steamed and looked like tibetan kozhakattai. The monks who ate with me gobbled up and got more plates..(Each plate had about 15 of them and pretty big in size) while I could not cross more than a pitiable three. It was fun to see them eat though. Finally I left for my room to crash cuddling into a comfy quilt they had provided.

My phone alarm jerked me out of my sleep, quite rudely. I got ready for the morning chant and left for the monastery. If the evening chants were charming, the morning ones with the hesitant sunrays slowly filtering through the hall, in that beautiful dawn, felt like tapas.. Only after about forty five minutes I realised I had a quite smile on my face all the while. There was no hurry, no pressure, nothing. Just a laid back meditation.. ofcourse with 'cha'!

Being there and experiencing something that I knew was quite above me to comprehend. So I did not question it. Just accepted the inner peace and let it sway my line of thought. And after coming back from there, I 've noticed that I've become a little subdued and laid back when I'm with people. Things that used to bother me, doesnt seem to matter.

At 9, after tibetan bread and omelet, they had the vehicle ready for me for a tour around the monastery. First thing I attended was the Buddhist University which was started by Dalai Lama himself.Imagine my astonishment to find 2500 monks seated in a great hall, reading verses from what seemed like 'olai chuvadu'. All were seaed on the mat and had a little table. And the background were three Tibetan Gods with Buddha in the centre. I could, I was told, to take snaps and do whatever I want. That moment I yearned that I did not bring my Canon. Still, the sight is still etched in my mind.

From there, to another University hall, which was quite empty. Though it had a courtyard high up where the monks were. Here I found them doing a debate. Their style of debate is unque and needs careful studying. The debate usually happens in a pair consisting an elder monk and a younger one. The elder one is seated and answers question while the younger one is standing jumping and dancing and clapping everytime he asks a question about Buddhism. I have provided a video clip of that below.. for better understanding. This was such a fascinating sight, kept me quite captivated for some time.

After this, the Qualis took the turn for the thing I had been waiting for all this while. Called the 'Golden Temple'. The entrance was stunning. The architecture sans people transcends you to a different place. Since all this while I was reading, 'Memoirs of Geisha' (I know its japanese, still)I was living the experience of being in the real oriental world.

At the side, they had a huge hall which had a 60ft Buddha.. that was so overwhelming that I had to pause for quite sometime before switching on the camera. Quite a lot of toursits since it was a sunday, though not distracting thankfully. I sat down for some time to take in all the colours and details. We went around the golden temple to see a few more structures.. with monks everywhere doing their chants and prayers, banging their cymbals..

We even saw a nunnery, (Women monks!) though didnt stop by. The nuns looked quite the same.. shaven heads and same attire.. reminded me of the scene from 'Anna and the King'.

I have an italian friend who had tibetan flags in his hall, and I had been wanting to get that for a long time. This I found in one of the tourist shops. Each flag represents an element, earth-sun-wind-water-soul. And all sorts of prayers are written on them. Supposed to hang it in such that the wind flaps them to spread the prayers. Now it hangs in my room by the window..

After Golden Temple, returned back to the monastery.. Needless to say, I was quite pooped. Rested for a while after a dal-chaawal lunch and got ready my painting things for afternoon chants. I wanted to do a painting of the monastery while the monks were busy chantin inside.

I started my work at 3 and finished by 5.The result was not that great, but it was my first live water colour structure..

After some snacks, returned back for the 6.00 pm chant and sat with the monks again. It was more pleasant than the previous evening. I had another encounter with another Tibetan delicacy for dinner.

The next day morning after a beautiful walk through the fields, Lobsang gifted me a white silk shawl and some incense sticks and led a quite hesitant-me to the busstop to reach Mysore. My two day stay was more than wonderful. My eyes had got quite used to the red attired monks everywhere doing their own chores in their own speed. I never knew before I encountered monks, that one could see peacefulness, on faces and feel that positive energy vibrating from them. If I could call it being complacent, but not in a negative way.

Everytime I heard their chants, I remembered this phrase, that I was taught in my Balavikas classes some 12 years ago..

'Aham Brahmasmi'
meant, I am Brahman, I am God',
where 'I' is not referred to self, but to the athma within.

'Tat tvam asi'
meaning, 'you are that' wherein,
'that' referes to a nameless form..
meaning you exist, but without form.

I am God, so are you. Nobody is any lesser neither are we greater than the other.. Is that why all the monks sported red-attired-shaven-head look? To look alike and to think alike? That when you address the other, you are addressing your self? And hence you would treat the other, the same way you would like to be treated and respected?

Understanding and realising these phrases, maybe.. maybe, brings upon that peaceful element in the eyes that I saw in those monks. It quite questions the way of one's own life. We can brush it away saying, each to his own.. and that's what we do anyway. Even when I visited Auroville, I felt the same way.. that, when there are places that does practise better living standards, with no evil extravagance associated with them, why do we still choose the dirty one? I have no answers except to only cluelessly run back to the chaos, ties and attachements and the materialistic malignant world.

"We don't quit! We dont quit!"

2008-01-09T23:22:00.000+05:30

When does a person not quit his job, even with less/no payment, no organised agendas, and sometimes crappy sucking up work/no legible work?

When he is passionate about what he might achieve later?
When he strived months becoming years to get to that place?
When he has patience to go through with it?
When he consoles himself that everywhere its happening to everybody, hence doesnt matter?
When he thinks holding on to it is like a string to a promised future and leaving it might be letting go of it completely?
When he becomes too comfortable with it and is scared to come out of it?

I dont know which of this I am.

Chennai Open Semi Fried Mirch Masala 2008

2008-01-06T08:56:00.000+05:30

I have a personal experience with players whom I veto for. They always lose. 'Lose' is actually a very mild word. Their a** gets whopped in royal blues. So I stay away, watch the matches with as much indifference I can summon and 'enjoy' a good match. Even if I favour one teeny weeny bit, some psychological radar hits their telepathy to bring them down in a series of 'unforced' errors. While yesterday started with Mikhail Youzhky vs Marin Cilic, I was on the stands guarding my own preferences, maintaining my halo "Love-all-Players" (pun-unintended) and watching the match, I think I clapped a little harder for Cilic. It was a mistake really. But the Tennis gods wont have that. The croatioan crashed down the first set, finally touched our pavement autorickshaw stand at 6-2, 6-3. Youzhky status - very happy but his meter starts a countdown when he plays tomorrow in Finals. So what if Cilic's ranking was 70 something and Youzhky's 19, Last year Malisse broke Nadal And his was 112 while Nadal was just ..2. Yanyways, Match was not all that great. It passed.

Most aniticipated one was for Carlos Moya vs Rafael Nadal. Now this has a little history that needs to be added before I commence. Last year, this was the most anticipated match. Everyone wanted a Moya-Nadal Finals. Unfortunately for them, Koubek and Malisse beat them to it (Hey, that was not me. I was working with the media backstage and did not get to watch the match).

So this match has been awaited for a year and I think the wait was worth it. Chennai witnessed one of the best games to be ever played here. A total of three hour and fifty minutes of pure unadelterated super quality tennis. Such brilliant volleys, serves and tackles.

The game had a good speed and start. Moya, looked confident, calculating and what poise! He surprised Nadal in the first few minutes. The last two years I've seen him in Chennai Open, I have always wondered how this guy won Chennai Open title twice! But now Carlos played such a healthy game, his aces were perfect. To my knowledge his serve reached 208km/h the highest yesterday.

Watching Moya play was like being asked Trick or Treat during Haloweens! Each set grew on you. Bloody Enjoyable. It was like watching a fierce battle between two Spaniards who had the strength and speed of all missles but only the absence of presence of any.

The first set itself had a grand finale with Moya winning 7-6(3) after about 1:20 minutes. I was sitting on the cemented pathways for a clearer view as my seat had a really lousy one with the Lamp post getting in the way. So needless to say my butt was getting pretty sore. And to add to this, I had such a vareity of bad audience sitting around me (Yes, another radar) I had to work hard at ingnoring the noise and concentrating on the game.
Audience 1 was two kids shouting 'C'mon Moya' after an hour of which the one kid asked someone, "Uncle, who is Moya?"
Audience 2 was one guy with an irritating Cell phone which he refused to keep in silent mode. He started taking Cam pictures during the match, and the camera mode had 'space craft meets kunnakudi' sounds, that I had to ask him to stop it.
Audience 3 were two guys who were shouting for Sania Mirza
Audience 4 was one grandpa who was waiting to get my place, so I could not get off my treasured-seat and get snacks.
Audience 5 were an irritating group of adolescents whom I think have not grown up after kindergarden. The guys in the group were supporting Nadal just to irritate the girls who were supporting Moya. They had brilliant ideas of singing sad tamil numbers everytime Moya lost a shot. Surprisingly after Moya won the first set they all shut up. And I think the group left too. They was just making noise for the sake of it.

The second set was in no way less equivalent. It was exciting. The pace stayed. The players never let go. They held their ferocity all throughout. And Moya, again was such a pleasure to watch. He did a lot of unanticipated moves. Why am I not talking about Nadal? Well, I wouldnt say he did not play well. He is world No.2, he played as he would. Only Moya was a surprise package. I was not against Nadal, I was FOR Moya.. makes a difference, see.. The tie breaker for the second set was brilliantly not-choreographed. Such intensity cannot but help be felt in the stands. Very infectious.
Finally rounded to 7-6(8) in favour of Nadal.

We were in the third hour when the third set started and still saw serves in 200'skm/hr. What stamina you need to do this and still play the finals the next day! Inbetween the third set saw Moya getting more net serves than before otherwise each was a hard earned point. The crowd pitch rose when both reached 6 all and started the tie breaker, here Nadal gained 4-0 which put him at a brilliant advantage. When he got five, Moya made his first point and unfortunately the last one.(Sorry I was cheering for you) The third set finished at 7-6(1)

Moya got the sportsmanship 2008 award from Vijay Amritraj. For a persevering three hour fifty odd minutes of magnificent tennis, a well deserved one. Hats off Carlos! May you have better fans cheering with less default-loser-radar-syndrome problem and may you have a great year ahead.

Little Buddhas

2008-01-03T09:29:00.000+05:30

From the Tashi Lhunpo Monastery,

Today is the first day for the rest of my life.

2008-01-02T19:00:00.000+05:30

A stray comment on my two year old post 'Love all' made me read all over about my Player Service experience in Chennai Open. And this new years eve, I was on the stands, watching Malisse vs Muller and the doubles with Baghdatis, Gicquel vs Nadal, Vidal, I couldn't help feeling a little lost in the crowds missing the chaos on the courts. Though a friend of mine working there gave me good company. Still raring to be there for the Jiri Vanek, and Mertinak (one of my fav)'s double match, I caught chill and my temperature rose, so had to leave mid-way. There actually wasn't much of a best-laid-plan for new year. So after a good meal, I slept through to the new one.
The morning was quite peaceful with just me and mom. Returned all my calls, smsed my wishes to everyone, and I was done. Received a call from the sets, asking why I was not there for work.

My last year, was quite a spiritual one whether I intended to have one or not. I visited Jerusalem. quite by accident is how I will put it. Encountering Jesus tomb, visiting the last supper room, attending bar-mitzvah at a synagogue dressed in saree, visiting Bahai gardens(did not even know such a religion existed), closer look at Matr Mandir at auroville, to top it up with two day stay at Buddhist Monastery.

Now to think of it, it might not be all that accidental you know. Some spiritual force, that combined to bring a common good will for me to share. I somehow always knew that I cannot be restrained to one religion. A combo always worked for me. So when I encountered all these at close quarters, I am at loss for words now.

When I wrote last year, that 2007 would be my year of travel, I guess someone up there took it quite seriously!

Somehow this year I feel it is going to be a great one. For travel and financial wise. And more satisfying. Have gotten to know lovely people, who have taken me as I am, excusing the madness. And very encouraging too.

Its difficult to word out what I feel. Its a very new day for me. Today. This moment. Though there is one song, which fulfills every part that I emote. I will try describing it with my limited vocabulary.

It is the very essence of living. And it is because of you that I'm alive. And without you I'm a directionless sailor without a northern star.
I live to be. To be yours. It is impossible to be anything else. It is senseless to live otherwise. You are my life. You are everything that makes me alive.
It is with that I wake everyday with a new hope. New day it is for me. Even one moment could transcribe to a limitless bliss that I cannot achieve in a janma. For that moment, I strive to live.I break free all barriers and float all oceans, pass all penance for one wish one destiny. To be one with you. That being with you, will be being you. I can sway to your tune and be the tune itself. A part of the song. I can only cry selfishly that it is not forever as I try holding on to the same tune. I can only cry. And I do.
What is that I'm living for . What is the purpose, born one day to die another. Where is that promised love.
Maybe I'm not worth that. It does seem unkind to withold all that love. When there is so much there for me to give ,and to not know whom to give.
Like the sunflower ever reaching, ever thirsty for those rays. To absorb to be fulfilled.. Half bitten agony.. that it seem so much beyond hope.
Such agony, yet such beauty how can it entwine together in those notes? A silent prayer, a silent cry a tear that falls unnoticed. How can there be such sweet sadness. It does seem cruel to be tortured so, to want more. Its like giving all the colors and stealing the canvas.
So claustrophobic.
How can there be something called too much love? Is that how it suffocates. Is there only too much or nothing?
I am not for this materialistic world. I dont belong. It seems such a waste to try embracing it. I am destined for something much more. I am the wrong person at the wrong time. What does one do when that happens. My yuga is set eons back.
I search every wave that travel. Those lovely sunrays caress and touch and feel.And I can feel the immensity of weightless love lift me above, from the nothing to everything filling me with everlasting happiness if there is one such. No one can, I repeat, no once can get what I got.

From that I pass to a heavy nothingness when the song ends.

Intermission

2007-12-26T21:24:00.000+05:30

Right. So here's the thing.

Nowadays I feel I'm always complaining. All the time. Its tiring me too. Sometimes its the only conversation I have with my friends. And I think thats sad. I used to be a cheerful person. Really, believe me. And the best part of this is, people immediately categorise me as confused and lost. There have been few genuine instances that I've been, I accept. But not all the time. Infact I remember these lines from 'The Lord of the Rings'. These are the first few lines that Gandalf writes to Frodo Baggins in his letter.

"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."

I have been ruminating for sometime over these lines. Especially the second one. I am not lost neither am I confused. I can clearly see what will happen to me if I chose the OTHER path, namely walking away from the dream profession that I chose to do all these days. The other path, seems to be so wider and has so much creative pursuit. Though my dad always warned me against this particular way of life i.e. 'Jack of all trades, Master of none' I think I'm perfect for that. Why should there be any negativity attached to it? I know I am good at whatever I do (modesty is not one of them, you might think) and enjoy doing different things. Languages, ancient history research, travel, different philosophies, religious beliefs, traditions, people..and so much more. After listening me out, a friend once called me a gypsy. He said all I need is a caravan and I'll be off without looking back. Maybe.

I am my own contender usually, so a better judge cos I am highly critical about my work. So I work to satisfy me n myself. Which itself is a huge task. I am able to tell this with confidence not arrogance. I have claustrophobia. Hence it works the other way round too. When I think I'm suffocating that person, I move away from them. Even at the slightest hint, I keep my distance. This is being applied to my profession right now.

Everybody says this is a phase everybone is facing right now. I hear it everywhere. So what are we doing about it? I dont even have days off to take my mind away from it. Christmas I worked, Diwali I did, sundays I worked. I faked illness to get two sundays off. See here I go again. Coming back to my first line in this post, I really have to start shutting up.

Is it really considered pathetic to be Jack of all trades? I mean thats like the best I can be at. I am a Master of Jack of all trades. How is that. And the main thing is to enjoy what I'm doing. Thats very important for me. All that fame and fortune, I did wish for, right now seems not necessary for a good life. I've worked from my school days, through college to now. Suddenly I feel tired.

Some of them say I should quit. The others, I should stick. I've stopped analysing advantages and disad's. The only thing I know is, I am not driven wholly to my full potential. So multi-tasking is my second option. There is a mature silence that has creeped in, teamed with patience. Something I was not familair till now. Hopefully this new year will bring me more meaning and a sense of belonging, wherever I'm headed.

Whew! Boy, did I miss blogging.

Breathe Easy

2007-12-24T20:32:00.000+05:30

It does seem a long while ago
though it was just a year back
Was I ever that pristine?
With unconfined freedom and spotless dreams?
It does seem overrated now.
For I plunged again to work
and left my witherings for everyone else.
When I promised I'll not have my wings cut,
I offered the axe.
Then came the numbness
that made everyday unnaturally placid.

I thank my stars yet, for being a true gemini, really.
For the spell broke yesterday
Friends family forgiveness due.
For the past new years I worked,
this one begs to differ.
Work moved from worship, to just well, work.
My past glorified and future in sorts.
Still, its just a phase
There never was a start, hence no end.

P.S. Have you ever done the dead man's float?
With the water below and the sky above
That was how I always felt with you,
I breathe easy. Sometimes choked too.
But hey, I am not judging.

Blissful Blahs

2007-12-04T18:10:00.000+05:30

For the past (irrelevant count added here) days, work has been extremely demanding. Which immediately affected my social life. And now suddenly equipped with free time, I am just clueless how to fill them. Books have always been part of my life. Even during my work lunch time, I take a novel and sit back, freeing my mind of this chaos just for those twenty minutes. Needless to say, I cover about five to six novels in two weeks. The recent ones have been interesting not for the storyline but for the subject they deal with. Namely, NEXT by Michael Crichton (talks about Genetics) and MARKER (deals with sudden series of deaths occuring in a healthcare hospital) by RobinCook. Ironically I saw the movie Constant Gardener at about the same time which covered the sham that is carried in the name of research of side effects brought on by new pills.

Genetics is a subject very new to me. I know it only in lay-man terms as something that is hereditary. Such as if I have a long nose, then, well, oh its in the family. I never knew that thousands of genes instilled in our body that influences even the kind of diseases you get. For example, in the book, Marker, there is a particular gene that when reacts with another gene causes breast cancer. I never knew that medical research in genetics had advanced to such limits that there can be a possibility of emerging human and animal gene to produce humanimal or humanzees. Though a fiction by Crichton, the novel was very convincing of what to expect in the morrow. And maybe it is happening as I write.

Which brings a possibility of saying, I have just raped this person, oh but I cant help it cos I have energised-temperemental genes. The author mentioned some court suits using genetic disorders as defence. Though I do not know how plausible it is to convince a jury. Its enough to start chaos in the legal system.

I love reading court novels. So there are a lot of Erle Stanley Gardeners and John Grishams that I've devoured. And the doctors who testify in any particular case from and for the court, is always contradicted by another doctor brought by the defence. And both have a long list of credentials to brag which makes it highly unpredictable to guess the direction the jury is going to swing. 'The Innocent Man' by Grisham, his latest, and first factual book took me completely by surprise almost causing a lousy image about American legal system which had an innocent man for twenty years in prison without no evidence. Something that is quite possible here in India, but sounded ridiculous there, that too when there was no political party involved. It also portrayed Americans as panicky people. They seemed to jitter at the slightest suspicion and when things go out of control convince themselves that what they are doing is right. For example, they do relay very much on the lie detector machine. But in this case, when the guy came out negative for lie detection, the police(who were sure they had the right guy) convinced themselves that there is a probablility that the machine turned out wrong.

I've not experienced Indian courts so have no say about them(actually thankful about it). Though the stories I've heard have never been positive. Knowing that the decision lay upon one Judge seems quite risky. And our cinema has dramatised our judicial system. We know that there will be guy with an ancient typewriter taking notes. We know the criminal and the person testifying has to stand throughout the scene. And ofcourse a judge with Gandhi's photo looming in the background and the lawyers using pure tamil arguing with other sub-lawyers nodding at the oval table. I am probably as misinformed as the rest of the janta. Come to think of it, I dont think we have a movie showing exactly how Indian courts work, to my knowledge. For that matter we havent tapped lots of professional area which could actually contribute some interesting screenplays. Alas! It'll be difficult to bring inbetween Switzerland bg with koothu song in them.

I know I've strayed a lot from my initial words, so let me scroll back. As I was saying, genetic research have also reached means to change natural colour of animal skin. In NEXT, the author talks about advertisements taking a new turn using fishes as one kind of media with logo's imprinted on them by changing the gene structure. So next time you look into a pond (considering a pond exists after all these exploitation) you'll probably see an 'INTEL' Logo inscribed on its scales.

As for medical malpractices, the book by Cook dealt with medical insurance companies taking over the cost of the patient, but killing them because they are liable to become very expensive, well.. it again brings a lot of insights. Let me explain. Suppose you are insured and suddenly you have some symtoms that puts you through a series of medical checkups. And in the end, the hospital finds that you have a potential for getting cancer or such similar disease, they start a treatment for the same. Obviously your medical company takes care of your expense. But getting information that you are going to be a costly customer, (which obviously is a no-no situation for any insurance company) the company arranges for you to be eliminated. And Cook does come up with ingenious ideas in his book, such that even during pathology (autopsy), noone suspects a mishap.

OK, this post has sure been a big blah. I notice I've not stuck to A single topic. Anyway, so I guess I just made up for the freetime I had. I've been wanting to post on Israel, but havent finished it yet. Its pathetically in drafts mode for a long time. And as I said during the start of this year about this being my travel year, it sure has been a wonderful journey. And I know its just the starting. Leaving to take a train now. More later,

Slumberz

2007-10-31T11:54:00.000+05:30

Being a woman is sure a hard job. Your mood swings over high cold mountains when least expected. Your tears fall for the silliest gestures and make you wonder whether you were ever strong. You have to be careful not to attract men? (And how?). And to top it all, you never stop thinking. Thinking and thinking more. No pause, no stops. Are you sure you want to turn off the system? Hell, yes.
You think you can forget the past and live alongside present when a stray song hits the playlist and reminds you of too many forgotten faceless demons that had haunted your every move years back. And the player proceeds to the next song, but the demons remain.

No, my heart has not been broken in a while. That should be a good thing, right?
Bah! Humbug!

This post apart, my blog crossed the two year mark. *sigh*

The Laya Project

2007-08-29T09:56:00.000+05:30

The pause button

2007-07-31T19:06:00.000+05:30

Why today happened? To give way for a tomorrow, or for a completion for yesterday?

Go ahead and hit the pause button. Were you working now or cooking or jogging? Look around and camera zooms out of the world! Millions and millions of people doing their own thing unconnected yet linked to human code of law.

Life has been treating me wonderful. More and beyond from what I expected, and things are actually falling into place. Sometimes lost, sometimes found, sometimes kissed, sometimes held, sometimes just to exist,

I am trying to word out my Israel trip, but dont know where to start. It was wonderful to feel wanted and belonged and my nights there, passed without me remembering a single dream, which is saying a lot. So while I'm in this hangover, I did not want a month forgotten without a post.

Its good to be back.

Salaam Bombay!

2007-06-12T20:37:00.000+05:30

So my very first trip to the bollywood city kickstarted with a two hour drive from airport to the Sea Green hotel that accomodated us musicians. The most of Bombay I saw was in these drives. So any judgement passed in these posts, well would very much reflect my ignorance.

Its cleaner than madras. I did see a lot of slum whilst we landed but did not exactly see the congestion that I've heard of. Everyone had warned me about the traffic. Thankfully the time I was there, we always had moving traffic. Did not get stuck any place, so I have a very pleasant experience to racount. On the way to Nariman point (It really had a nice ring to it, this place), we passed the Haji Ali Mosque. Quite charming when you hear about the high tide story.

So we touched the sea, and drove by her only to find that our hotel faced her. I fell in love with the Marine Drive at first glance. We reached the hotel exactly at sunset, and so caught a beautiful moment while the city immersed itself in dusky orange and the queen's necklace lit up. The rooms were tidy and we had a breathtaking view of the city so no complaints there. Went to dinner with a friend, only to wait for thirty minutes to get a table in a restaurant that too at about 11.30p.m.! And there was a queue waiting after us! The same thing happened the next night when I went to Mocha with another person to find it hip n happening even at 1p.m. a steady crowd filling the place. Something that really amazed me.. Madras seemed a bit, hmm.. backwards? (though I'm glad its just the way it is.)

The next day, 9th june, started with sound checks and rehearsals and what not at the NCPA from 8 in the morning till 4.30 and we were allowed an hour to get dressed for concert taht was supposed to start at 7. The Tata theatre had good acoustics, could find the difference when my voice bounced back, could hear myself in such clarity as inside the sound studio.

The concert happened. We had a receptive audience and hence was a huge success. (Kaapi raagam actually came out well this time :) Thanks to my cousin and Punya, the veena player.) After the concert there was a small party outside with DJ Fazia playing beautiful fusions, met people, made a lot of contacts..

Returned quite late to the hotel and crashed, cos we had a morning flight to catch. Took a taxi early in the morning cos I thought I needed to see something of Bombay. So visited the Gateway of India. After seeing it n number of times in the movies (Got reminded of the Nayakan scene), the pictures that we pasted in our project scrap books in school and in history books, I was still not disappointed at the structure with hundreds of pigeons resting and flying by.

My friend who lived there was saying how the people there, are always in a rush all the time and everything happens with such speed that anywhere else, would feel that work is too damn slow. One more thing I felt was, everybody looked too dressed up for even simple coffee shop outings.. The taxi guys also take advantage if you do not know the rates and the place.

Anyway, it was a lovely experiece this time, musicwise. Couldn't acknowledge the fact that I was in Bombay cos it took two hours of flight to get there and pretty much spent most of the time in our own company, so did not exactly interact with any mumbaites. Would love to go back and explore the city again, considering the fact that Bollywood happens there. Most of the newspaper that I read through in the airport had celebrity news and more celebrity news. With lot of colourful pictures and gossips. Actullay missed The Hindu there.

Would love to take a walk down Marine drive if and when I get back there one day..

Possessed

2007-05-29T22:24:00.000+05:30

He seized me with such sweet madness, I succumbed to his ruthless power as my head twirled, leaving me breathless afloat, as a raft is to water. A slow strong pull, gently letting go, the teasing and the bullying, and again pulling towards him, passion-driven defying gravity, defying control, defying self, seducing towards that vast blackness, as he possessed me. And then there was no him or me. There was just one being. This entwinement, like long silk tresses bound by a band of a young girl jumping about, playing at dusk, this entwinement, like dark green ivy weaving around red bricks, this entwinement, oh this entwinement.. bringing upon a feeling of wholeness, fulfilling the darkest deepest desires, of being alive. I closed my eyes, to be gently wafted, ruffled, as he whispered, caressed, with only his voice reverberating, an echo of emotions that will never be forgotten.. We swirled and conquered the skies, tangoed in the cyclones, a beautiful rhythm creating a fog separating reality and stealing moments, the oneness never breaking. Always holding me with such possessiveness, that I was no one else's, wanton behaviours, I could hear myself shouting with glee. Weathering every storm we reached the end, nay, there was no death for us, but other stillness that could stop even winds, and so he stopped. He broke his promise, lay me over the earth, numb, for other winds to bride me. As a feather, all I can do is hope.

Listening to the track Water Side (Laya Project) - 4min 35secs, possessed.

'Crrrrush'ed!

2007-05-27T11:55:00.000+05:30

And then you get attracted to this man, silent and observant and you think he is a man of very few words, only to find out he's actually got nothing to say! *chuckle*

Off note

2007-05-26T21:24:00.001+05:30

I seem to have no command whatsoever of the Kaapi raagam. I have sung and worn out listeners too, probably of having sung, 'Meevalla gunadhosha' at almost all navarathri functions, when you have the usual iyer mami's gently jostling you to sing in front of golu, in exchange for spicy sundals. It is still one of my all time favourite song for the simple fact, that the raagam touches that highest note in nishabd(Ni) which elevates your spirit. I learnt it when I was in my 9th standard and I very much remember practising the song over night to get everything right. Just like how M and myself did for 'Kadhakudhuhalam' raagam's Varnam just to get it right in the third speed!

Back to Kaapi. We are doing 'Enna thavam' for the Bombay concert and the raagam part in the begining, I just dont seem to get it right. The other day, I travelled completely to Karaharapriya! Total Damage! The violinist raised her eyebrows and smiled. Somehow managed through to complete that.

So this concert, I saw the stage we were going to perform in the net. It looks absoloutely HUGE. Quite a bit of a shock really. Imagine perforing in your living room all these years in front of a highly critical crowd of mami's and patti's though [(who wil definitely try to intervene to bring different avarthanas), still they were all part of family] and one outdoorsy concert four months back infront of a hundred plus crowd and now suddenly this huge hall.

Everyone is a professional in my group. They all perform in classical/fusion concerts, marriages and lot more places. I'm the only one out of the league. And I seem to commit every possible mistake to wreck their efforts. I am going to try my best. But I know that even my best is nowhere close to their worsts :( I just stopped singing practices three years back and I kind of regret it now.

Theory of Relativity

2007-05-11T08:15:00.000+05:30

When mom goes out of station, I find myself adding a little more butter on my bread, more ghee in my food, more cheese on my pasta, buy more chocolates and search for creamy biscuits, get flowers and fill the house, get cornetto icecreams and stuff it in fridge, add more sugar in my tea, wear her overall, and light agarbhathis in the morning.

If this the combination I try replacing you, in your absence mom, well, it sure fattens me up! :)

Love you amma, Happy mothers day.

Pukarta chala hoon mein,

2007-05-08T22:34:00.000+05:30

Past weeks, well, have been a beautiful journey, the kind, when you press your cheeks to the cold train window grills and look at the passing scenery shifting from suflower fields to ancient red brick dams with moss green popping up unaware, the kind, when you try hard to steal a glimpse when the train bends around the corner, the kind, when you catch yourself smiling for no reason in particular..

How do I put it in words.. I just dont have anything to complain about. What if my only worry was, will my favourite character be killed in the next episode in 'LOST'..? And it seems to me that this is the phase that was missing all my life, the satisfaction of living itself. Its lovely to feel alive!
I left for Pondichery one saturday morning last month. Just to journey. Alone. (Though appa was quite apprehensive about it!) I just wanted to know me all over again. Sounds wierd?
I took a three hour bus ride, landed there without any plan where to lodge, found a guest house booked myself there (which by the way had TV plus three cockroaches running all over). Then rented a bicylce, had my lunch, and cycled all round the city. Pondichery is a quaint town blending refreshing french rues and messy indian markets. C'est naturale, I fell in love with it. The two days I spent there was a miniscule vacation for me and myself only! Quite pampering you know. I had all the cheese in the world, Vodka was cheap and more than all of this, met a charming french gentleman! The second day, I moved out of that guest house, leaving a sad old propreitor and two and a half dead cockroaches and got myself into international guest house. I had taken my Canon EOS 66 and two rolls of Black and White, so spent hoards of time framing my photographs, admiring architecture and finally took my sketch book, sat on the pavement drawing few favourite shots. The first time that I just did not care that my drawing was not to scale!
I felt wierd. Because I was doing what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted. I felt free. No internet (though I had to switch on my phone for dad). Somehow a strong sense of gut feeling had strengthened deep inside from then on. Was it because I just finished erecting a set by myself, or a few strong decisions that came about after that, influenced, I have no clue. Present what mattered then. And matters still. I aint gonna leave no stone unturned now and regret later.
Clarity like never before.
And when I feel this way, life defines itself to simplistic terms. The need for complications, analysis, brooding, is all bowled over by clean crystal clear glass of contentment. Transparency.

Just when you think, you have experienced and done it all, life surprises you.

Doggy Bytes!

2007-04-26T19:01:00.000+05:30

While I had my morning cuppa in Pondichery,

< space >

2007-03-12T14:09:00.000+05:30

Me,
you,
here,
there.

Moments,
seconds,
minutes,
hours.

Living,
hoping,
waiting,
hoping,
living.

Hours,
minutes,
seconds,
moments.

There,
here,
you,
me.

Fusilli di Vita!

2007-03-07T09:03:00.000+05:30

I've got back my life. Completely. With all the missing jig-saw's at the right places and junctions. Sometimes we need to forgive others to feel complete. Because a part of you is still thinking about the past. Today when I woke up, I found that I'm actually free of almost all bonds. Even of hatred. Its difficult to hate you know, when you are in love with life. So here goes. I forgive you. And more than that, for the days I've been silently punishing myself for an incident, for I was guilt-driven, well, I forgive myself. I was gullible. And more. Period. Over and Out.

Neither I am eccentric nor I'm a tamil serial script writer, but when all the traffic signals(about 7) turned green yesterday when I was returning from my class, it brought a wide smile while driving.. Looks who's back. Back again. To all those who tried fucking my brain, it cannot be, just cannot be.
Past few weeks, my vita has been filled with dancing, drinking, movies and more drinking. My friend got started, when I unleashed the zeenath a(m)man in me under disco-lights. He scrutinised for a while, and thought I was better left alone, especially when I was done with 6 shooters. I mean, how can we do hip-hop steps, when DJ springs up Madaithiranthu (Yogi B's). So I brought in a little dappankoothu with a right bit of item dancing. No, my hips dont lie. Neither did it lie during the Grand finale of Chennai Sangamam at the Besant Nagar Beach. The tapattam and the tambattam group CANNOT be ignored unleass you are deaf ofcourse. Nice Initative..Its a pity there was a low turnout, when they played Veerapandiakattabomman, and Parasakthi at the DeviSridevi theatre as a part of the Chennai Sangamam Festival. Infact it was a record breaking moment for me, being the only gal, only youngest below 40yrs of age and the only one who did not fart or burp during the film. Very impressive screenplay, this Parasakthi had. Advanced thoughts, super cool Mr.K.
Watching veerasami, is one of the top-tucker movies that I've recently watched. And the climax can really be mindboggling, draw(er)ing Da Vinci Code to shame. But it was really surprising that we actually got to see anthing called scene/cast even with TR filling the screens. He has reduced weight. And the other movie I recommend is Borat:Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazhakhstan. Title is enough. I wont reveal more.
My favourite chat item is Sukha Puri. The Kolkata Chat down the road, provides the perfect SP I've tasted, (thats because I refuse to order from any other :P). When you take a whole piece in, you first break down the crisp puri, and immediately it gives way to the soft crushed aloo with pinch of salt and masala..mm.. It is almost orgasm. Almost I said? You need to take the next piece and the next and the next.. to savour the taste. It lingers a while mm..Recently I got angry because another new guy tried messing up with my puri's adding his own recipe. Aftermath of it is, now they treat me like a heroin and give me extra pieces everytime I make an entrance. Its super, I say.
Recently my dad said he has changed his signature. Was a big blow to me after I had pracitsed the same feverishly one whole school night for my report card, which I still used for his credit card recently.
My bike has this annoying way of gathering dust and crow shit even when I dont park it under a tree. My grandma, still offers fresh boiled rice to the crow believing they are our ancestors (dont know where that came from). These crows, how they have taken up our lives. Even our bedtime stories were haunted with nail-biting thrillers of how kaka stole vadai from patti, and other such. ('Whats nail-biting about that?' Are you kidding. Did you not hear? The yummy vadai being stolen part.. I love vadais.mmm..) And my dog, Titoo the third, doesnt bother to even shoo these crows when they perch themselves on the clothesline, cos he is scared of them. Actually shouldn't be surprised and expect this much when he is scared of even kittens. He was traumatised a puppy. He was chased by a friendly labrador all over the house, and titoo ran under the sofa and refused to come back. To this day, he remains scared of anything that moves suddenly, including his own reflection. Poor thing. Its a disorder that I'm still trying to help him with. We have these long conversations and I must say nowadays his woofs are more stronger. He is making an effort to fight back, I'm proud. And its helping me viceversa too. My woofs are powerful too. After each such sessions, we contend ourselves to Parle-G biscuits.
As three thirds of this post (& title) are filled with foodies and drinks, I need to confess. I am very happy and very much putting weight, though it draws frowns from Dina. Dina is not Ajit or about his movie. No not that ridiculousness. Mr.Dina is my gym instructor, who tries his best to convince me that I've to reduce 6 kilos to achieve super-figaru status, while I think otherwise. I'm still negotiating between being Super-figaru and Weight-party. My relatives have been complimenting that my face has become rounder. Which is satisfying at one end, but scary at the other, where it is attached to strings/clauses like Gothrams and Jadagams. So I keep popping with different baais to their houses to confuse the hell out of them, something I enjoy the most. Its tricky, but not impossible. After which they all left me alone.
Before I ramble on, this is my 100th post. Yay! Congratulations me! I thank everyone who have read, who have commented, who have puked after reading, that it is a good encouragement, that I'll continue to write my very best like before and you will not be disappointed when you visit this blog every time to relieve your stomach trouble.

Di four letter word-ah!

2007-02-27T11:06:00.000+05:30

What That Four Letter Word means to me,

The first movie we (P and myself) worked on. We were 20, still in college 3rd year when Sudhish approached us for taking up art work in TFLW. Though both of us had already met him in our first year when he reviewed our paintings, I was formally introduced to him through a senior. By the time I was done with my first assignement for him, a flash presentation for his second movie, we found our common interests like TR, Vijayakanth etc elevate our acquaintances to new heights(or should i say weights?). While we did keep in touch on and off, it was this lazy saturday afternoon, he called us to Barista and handed over a bound script and asked us to read it. And we loved it ab-sol-ute-ly. I remember him asking us repeatedly whether we liked it or not. It was very important to him that we believe in the script. And we did. That night, I sent a message saying, lets make your movie. Pat came the reply from him, lets make OUR movie :)!

While we were shooting for P's short film, Sudu started his. And it was unfortunately during our university exams. I've never studied for college exams, so had P. So we did not have the slightest hesitation whatsoever. Haywire. Thats how it was, the shoots. Between location and prop scouting (Sudu had made it clear that we either beg/borrow/steal), collecting costumes from cast and crew, Edit suite (P's movie was edited only then), reshooting with different casts.. I would like to mention somebody here who was an awesome inspiration for all of us. Swathi. First assistant. I've never seen anybody work this hard and still be able to smile. She used to be this bundle of energy always reminding everybody, keeping tags and taking care that work gets done.

Oh yes! I cant forget the day we fucked up Sudu's bike. He handed over his bike and spray can. And the result, cannot be described in words. Sudu still has it and hopes to sell it to the museum of GORE (our TFLW?) He was too tired, lack of sleep and proper food had made him a zombie. And thankfully we escaped that day from his wrath. And he had to put up with the irks and smugs from colleagues, till he bought his Avenger.

Our exams got over, and we had one day of shoot left at Pre's house. While the whole class was celebrating the last day of college, we hurried back to get her house ready. When we wrapped up, Usha was leaving, Sudu was almost dead, the cameraman thankful and Sunil's hair was longer than mine.

Our personal favourites in the cast list is Aashil and Sunil. The bar scene with both of them was a naturale. They both were a ruckus on and off screen.

We gained inexplicable experience not only because it was a low-budget, and shot in a period of 14 days, but because of working, up and close and personal with people who were all about the same age (about 20-30 and I think, we were the youngest) be it cast or crew. And we are thankful to sudu for believing in us and we dedicate this oscar to.. oops.. ahem..

Watch the film. It might not be a turning point of your life. Its just life. On the face of it. And whats our four letter word?

RIDE. An unforgettable one.

Um..

2007-02-26T15:55:00.000+05:30

I think I'm starting to think like men. Life suddenly became simpler..

The Yellow Post-it's

2007-02-20T09:36:00.000+05:30

He had no clue she was planning to suicide. He woke up as usual to an over-rated day of work of hard edged black suitcases and mechanical ties. His car, the latest in the market with Sony coaxial speakers XS to flaunt and a wood panelled dashboard, he had everything in his life. Or so he thought. It did not occur to him that, inevitable of riches, there was a missing puzzle to complete the jigsaw. He forgot that there was more to life than colourful creditcards and incentives. He forgot to live.
Thats why it surprised him when he stopped his car down that clean highway to pick up a wayside purple flower pierced through thorns, the one he noticed, through his frosted windshield while driving past. It reminded him of her. He tried almost immediately to place a call to her. Network troubles. A U-turn could have saved her. But he drove on, keeping aside his thoughts and focusing on his international flambouyant clientele.
The day wore on with crisp ironed suits while his thoughts strayed from time to time to that purple flower that was begining to fade. Lack of sunshine, you know. He had that ready smile for everyone. Almost plastic. He was the popular one in office. The competiton would kill to have such a guy whose dedication to work was well appreciated in the network. And well, it did kill unaware.
He shutdown his laptop getting ready to leave, and picked up that withered flower. It felt cold, because of airconditioning. He placed it on his dashboard and switched on the ignition. He took the same highway, driving past the sinking sun, homewards (home?) towards her.. when he recieved that fatal call. He screeched the car, the first sign of normalcy perhaps. He noticed that he was at the same spot where he picked the flower. He had picked it only for it to wither, instead of letting it grow. Silence.

He had bought her a necklace studded with diamonds and a blood red ruby for their anniversary, when a rare lily would have helped. He should have written in his post-it.

Puppet Smiles

2007-01-16T19:54:00.000+05:30

What you see is just an illusion created by your own prejudiced mind.
It needs passion to break through your looking glass to break barriers.
The soul has to be pure of its inhibitions to understand clearly.
Only then can you hear the wind chimes of the heart calling out.
It needs less prescence and no words and more silence.
I was cut from a tree and carved to a figure.
Painted, varnished and adorned with jewellery.
I gleamed everytime light caressed me.
A pride to the sculptor's eye.
I was a realm of perfection.
Then I was stringed.
I am, but a puppet.

Busted

2007-01-13T22:33:00.000+05:30

I do not know why lot of people I know, dont speak their mind out regarding few topics. Yesterday my friend listened to me patiently when I told him what exactly I had on my mind and wanted to do this minute this second. Usually my narrations are cut short by people calling me insane, to think that way. But it doesnt stop me from thinking does it? A lot of speculations are that, when I describe to them about few things that I've done or going to do, spat comes 'you are mad'. I have this feeling that either, one - they cant imagine themselves doing it, cos of lack of courage, two - they live in denial that it is not possible. Living in denial. That requires another post. When I ask them, why do you deny yourself of something you can change.. they say its the way it should be, which translated to me, they accept things as they are as they are afraid of change and the outcome that it might disarray their normal lives. Where is the sense of adventure?
As I was saying, I was telling my friend X, telling him that I want to leave this place for sometime and take a road trip. (Trip to where) wherever the road leads. Usually he shuts me up cutting me off. But he encouraged me to go on. One thing led to another topic. I found myself telling him too many things. About life. About so many dimensions that have been rendering me confounded.
Why do I want to so badly evacuate this place? Am I escaping, or just plain bored of seeing the same faces over and over again and having the same polite conversations everytime I meet anyone? Anyway, my freind was smart enough to point out, saying as a female part of the species, I am likely to encounter more unpleasant experiences than pleasant ones. I agreed and told him maybe that was stopping me from leaving.. But now thinking about it, I'm hiding behind that reason. That I do not have sufficient courage to pack my bags. That I lack passion and confidence to follow my dream. I am a coward. He also said that, maybe I should probably find somebody (a 'he')equally interested in this kind of trip and not go alone. I joked with him saying, its nowhere possible to find someone as aimless as me. Am I aimless?
Usually when I ask what people want to do with their life, they usually end up sayin they want to earn lots and then travel the world. Even I used to chant the same hymns when asked. But now, the difference is I want to start now. What if I ceased to exist tomorrow?
Sometimes we should never question the purpose of living. But still where are we heading?
What was even more intriguing was that, while I was thinking on these lines, for the past two weeks, I started reading this book by Coelho 'The Zahir'. Which to my surprise had some answers to my question..
It seems like a sign to me.

Most of the times we think we would get happiness when we find somebody whom we can share our rest of our lives with. So from the beginning of our befuddled journey, we start looking out for this special someone. Someone, who can fill that empty space, who can make us feel complete. We encounter so many people everyday. And we like some, we hate some.
When I was little, I used to be fascinated by fairy tales, believing in them. Truly believing that there was a Prince Charming. Whoever wrote them, probably wrote it as an escape from reality. Little did they know, that they spoilt children like me to think and wish and hope for things that could never happen. Imagine, if 'happily ever afters' were so true, (which is what I thought about that time, about my family), well, I cant even go on..
It was so wrong to gender bias us even when we were small. I am sure the boys in my family would have recieved basketball or cricket bat as birthday presents and us, more 'choppu' things..small pressure cookers.. I'm not complainig about it. But I've played this house-house thingy with a boy. What more. He enjoyed it too. I am damn sure, if I demand his memory of even playing with me, he 'll probably laugh out loud and say I imagined the whole thing. Classic living in denial case. Why do you need to be ashamed of it?
Back again, So I meet a lot of people. And as I said, I like some, hate some. And pick out a few characteristics from each one and add it to my ideal man. My prnice charming. Call me kiddish. I dont live in denial. And I'm sure most of them do it. Waiting for their perfect bed of roses to drop by. No I'm not dreamy. And there is nothing called the ideal person. But whats wrong in a little hope to live the day by?
Sometimes this hope becomes an obsession, of searching for that 'one' person in others. Searching for that 'Zahir'. The belief, finding Zahir ONLY can give us happiness.

Years back, I thought I'll be happy with the perfect man, with perfect children going to perfect schools. I used to believe happiness lies when I have a man by my side. People say that falling in love is kind of a dangerous pit. That it is very difficult to come out of. I do not know why these people thought of love as a prison, when its quite contrary and is the very definition of unlimited freedom. A freedom that can surpass all, that can make even a prisoner feel free in barred boundaries. And freedom comes only with acceptance. The minute we pinpoint the faults in others, trying to make them adjust to our lifestyle, trying to 'correct' them to our standards and vice versa, and expecting them to change.. well thats when we feel bound. We feel tied and try to please the others..keep up to their expectations. Ultimately, people blame love, to have done this to them. Its the people who commit the mistakes and love gets the blame. Love, by far, the most rawest energy, yet to be tapped and explored, love, which is a journey to be experienced, is blamed for their sufferings.

When I realised this I stopped imagining. Prince or no prince, I knew I'll have this new found freedom to live life free of the tangles of expectations and disappointments, all I want is a person whom I can give much more, who believes in similar yet have different insights offer me more knowledge and help me be.

I used to have this recurring dream. That I was married to this rich guy. Extremely filthy rich. But there was no love in the family. Everything was extremely mechanical. Yesterday I had that dream. Only, I started running away from the big building. It started raining. I took shelter under this shade, feeling extremely cold. And suddenly two strong hands from behind hugged me. I felt secured. But I was clutching myself, rigid, fear of letting go of myself to enjoy what I was offered. The person behind me asked if he was making me uncomfortable, was it ok if he hugged me, why was I hesitating. Only then I let go and said, I am warm and happy. Before I could turn back and look, I woke up. I'll never know..

Clearing up the cobwebs

2007-01-09T08:49:00.000+05:30

Another flap in the diary, another sand trickles down the hour glass and we move on. Its only obvious that I look back on what happened in these last 350 odd days. I see myself moved on to a different demented level. To a wider stage, exposed to an insane full forced-bright spot light hitting me on my face. Pity, it only makes me blink and creates more shadows.

I love labelling. And pasting and reinventing and messing then again organising. You know what happens when the same is applied to people? Me. The intriguing part is the 'state of being'. A case of Salsa. Balancing at both ends while I do my swivels. The faster I do, I lose my balance and fall on my partner. Only, here I need to support and strive myself. And when I do, yet again there is the mirror, that noone can avoid.

I learnt,

that kidding oneself into believing is one of the worst things that you can do to yourself. The whole process of turning into a hypocrite.

to never walk into Saravana Selvarathnam Stores unchaperoned. The whole place is like Vanarapetta kuppam with rows of clothing strewn about, desperately needing fluorescent coloured policemen to guide strolling crawling kids away from their mothers, who amuse themselves with sneha's silk sarees.

that being chauffered in Mercedes Benz back home at 1'O Clock is one of the most ecstatic feeling ever.

to trust my instinct more than ever especially while judging people.

that I get attracted to people when they are boisterous about life.

to gain strength in the things I lose.

to accept people as they are (a very tough one). Neither can I change them if I wanted to, as change comes from within, nor can I blame them for being so. They wouldn't be themselves, which loses identity. They are special as they are.

that I still cant stand injustice.

that listening to koothu songs in the same Mercedes, well is a different experience ;)

that how much ever I try and plan, I love the unpredictability better.

that nothing is worth being extremely tensed about. Everything has a lighter angle to it, that can cheer up any situation.

being a fool is way better than a joker.

to feel guilt and take responsibility.

that I treasure my friends. (Love u, P)

that I am the one who make myself depressed and happy.

falling in love with someone, brings happiness just with that knowledge. You dont even need to know or be with that person. An omnipresence of the mind caves you in.

that I really push myself too much at work and if anybody else butts in, I'm lost. And that I criticise myself too much too to the end of hurting my own confidence and pride.

working on New Years Eve brings people closer.

that after four drinks I cant walk steady. And that I am in top form the very next day in the a.m.

that this year is definitely going to be my year of travel.

and I feel loved. Nothing can top this.

Wishing all you guys, a very Happy New Year.
And a belated happy birthday P, (sorry d, that I dint make the call)

Aasai nooruvagai vazhvil nooru suvai, vaa!

Smelly cat Alternatives

2006-12-18T09:43:00.000+05:30

crazy gal crazy gal
what are you thinking 'bout
crazy gal crazy gal
its not your fault

you were born crazy by this birth
you obvioulsy spent crazy in this earth

crazy gal crazy gal
its not your fault

you may not be liked by the rest
nevertheless regarded as a pest
your mood swings might stay too long
but that doesnt make this any less song

crazy gal crazy gal
what are you wondering 'bout
crazy gal crazy gal
its life, not your fault

Laya Fest n me

2006-12-17T12:18:00.000+05:30

An exhilirating experience yesterday's show was. The tapatam guys were the best. Their dappankoothu numbers rocked the audience. Veena and violin were also not far off. Infact the whole ensemble really complimented each other than taking over. And it was a great honor for me to be a part of it.

Yesterday was good, actually one of the best moments :)

Le Mirage

2006-12-03T21:29:00.000+05:30

Dans ma vie In my life
j'ai suivi I followed
bien qu'il ait gelé though it was cold
une petite allée a small alley
ou j'ai eu where I saw
une belle vue a beautiful view

Le ciel bleu The blue sky
brillait et était beau shone and was beautiful
l'arc en ciel The rainbow
étincellait sparkled
la brise douce The soft breeze
touchait tous touched all
elle allait et venait She came and went
et baisait mes joues and kissed my cheek
les coucous chantaient The cuckoos sang
les papillons dansaient The butterflies danced
tous brillants Everything vibrant
tous vivants Everything lively
la rosée, elle The dew, she
aspergée d’une manière belle sprinkled itself
parmi les feuilles amongst the leaves
les faisait luire making them shine
Tant, tant de fleurs So many flowers
de différentes couleurs of different colours
m'ont séduit seduced me
m'ont épanoui awoke me
elles ont créé They all created
une scène parfaite. a perfect scene.
mais un peu plus tard But a little later
tout est devenu flou, car all became blurred
le soleil de grande lumière the sun rays
a sucé pour une fois dernière sighed once but last
et effacé ce beau visage and erased this beautiful face
de mon vrai mirage. of my mirage.

That funny thing called Love

2006-11-27T19:20:00.000+05:30

What eet ees?
Diagonised by Adam and Eve, it was/is found to be one of the most dangerous thing to be caught on. Extremely contagious than madras eye. Cos even madras eye needs some prolonged stares, while love at even the slightest glance of the opposite sex, sends electrical circuits, goosebumps and sets off complicated chemical reactions. All this at first sight. *sigh*
With repeated meetings, a certain butterfly starts fluttering wildly in the stomach stimulating high blood pressures, a flurried hour everyday morning trying to look good and attempts at looking oh-so-cool-i-never-get-tensed in front of the afore mentioned opp sex while feeling otherwise.
Further followed by stammering and stuttering of speech called the 'kekalama/kekkakoodadha' syndrome. One can discover quite a number of monosyllables during this period, some are even accepted by scrabble.
Course, after this there are only two stages like cricket. You are either in or out. If you are out, the next batsman enters and tries his hand at the scores. Either ways all of em are bowled over.
A person passing this stage can be named Incurable=Hopeless= *tsk* *tsk*. God save the King and him/her. Because this is when we see the extremeties. Going going gone. Poyepochu.

Dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dum...

And entertainment starts for us. They dont need any FarhaKhan or Michael Jackson. They dont need PrabhuDeva, just hide behind any curtain or door, they will do moonwalk and somersaults in the air. And they dont need TR's too, cos all their lines would rhyme and have a ringtone to it. Look at their face and you will catch that stupid smile and a faraway look. You can actually get a laugh for the worst of PJ's. More dreamy looks, more silly smiles. To catch their attention, the wonly way is to mention their louly lovers name at the start and the end of the sentence. Like in war they said, *Roger* Situation Terminated*Roger/Over* or whatever.. No wonder they said, all is fair in love and war.
And ofcourse, our own indian cinema has dissected, scrutinised and xrayed all dimensions for the most obvious symptoms. Hungry but no eatings, Drowsy but no sleepings, and more such.
Then starts late night phone conversations. Inflation goes up. So does phone bills. Top up cards, Unlimited sms and dedicating caller tunes.. no wonder our countries economy (n these lover's father who pays for the bills) are booming.
And secret meetings. This is when, poor creatures like me are resorted to. 'I'm supposed to be with you, but X and myself are going to that movie you recommended and then we are going to dinner to that restaurant you mentioned. Dont call my place, ok?'*Ahem* Thankyou peoples to be of service for your vandavalams and thandavalams :)

These people are not rude. Cant you see, they cant help it. They are just madly deeply in love.

No, love, doesnt stop with one yellow and pink flower being shaken in front of screen, or naked models/painting from closeup to blur, or one umbrella being opened and hiding the lovers..
Its a mega serial, serial killer at that, it strikes one and all. Sending feverish shivers and tinglings and chills in the hottest summers and rising to uncountable high temperatures and pressures and with never-ending dreams and thoughts about the other half.

And the most wonderful thing about this disease, is experiencing it.

This post is a dedication to all the couples I know n love, Shaffu n Fur, Swe n Vj, San n Apar(who confessed recently!), Pre n Vin, Bhu n Yog, Raji n Sak, Go n Anu, Pap n Jaya,

.. hope there is never a fullstop.

One addiction that I definitely recommend :)

Dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dum dum tere bin kya jeena.
Tere bina beswaadi beswaadi raathiya..o sajna!

Jaage hain

2006-11-27T11:19:00.000+05:30

Jaage hain der tak hamenh
kuch der sone do
thodi se raat aur hai
subah to hone do
aadhe adhure khwaab jo
pure na ho sake
ek baar phir se neend mein
woh khwaab bone do

An inner vein, tugs hard and deep and heavy and chokes, stimulating an effervescence of unknown fatigue, that embraces all over, and makes me pause from the running, from the speed, from the travel, from life. Afterall am only a speck in the universe, acting a written part. Heavy and tired, let Him loosen my puppet strings a little bit such that I can lean on your shoulder just this once and rest my burden, cry silently listening to your euphony of unknown tales of love while my inner strength grows. Let me be the withered leaf that lulls gently to the wind. Let me sleep, while I revel in this blind dream, relive bliss.

Lost Part II- Timeless

2006-11-23T21:47:00.000+05:30

As time weeds through
the frames of that broken window
rearing dead flowers of past
and wild leaves of sorrow

Emptiness spills
evoking unwanted familiarity
of once trodden path
rendering more guilt than pity

Hope is yet another story
another unfinished dream
another not-reachable ripe grape
while fate plans another scheme

I picked an apple
on the way,
hungry I bit
Nay, it was made of clay

Betrayed by own thoughts
cursed by a craving mind
for impossibilities
for love and such kind?

They accused me
of being Eve,
while the serpent escaped
I stood there decieved

Faith fails, heaves more.

(read Part I here)

Absolut Peace

2006-11-04T21:23:00.000+05:30

Time is speeding away. Its already november. And for the past two weeks have been one helluva a marathon from research research and more research at the workplace. And when that happens, you dont get time to think. Only act. Your mind is scheduled to various alarms and you start your work mechanically, meeting deadlines and submitting reports. . And when you love what you do, it is even better. I am findng myself a little better organised, which is actually surprising, considering that I was the sibling who used to mess up every room after my sis cleans it. I still remember the times, when my sis used to take hours to clean up her shelf, the room, the loft, the fan n what not, and after all that, I would be given the responsibility to clean up just my book shelf. I used to detest the very concept of cleaning. In my school days, if my sis asked me for a book/pen or anything, my answer would immediately point her to this incorrigible mess. Everytime, it would be necessary to shovel out odds and ends, to sometimes even get to the floor. And if I needed a dupatta or say something as small like a kerchief/belt it'd take a whole hour just to even recollect where it is and another whole hour to find it. And my sis, darling one, used to clean my stuff too to make it look neat. Tornado. Thats what I was. Cos the next day it'd return to same state whatsoever. I was always the messy one. Always.
It just happened suddenly one day. I just decided I did not want to live like that, and I changed. I've always felt that I have a very good instinct about everything. People. Clothes. Stuffs. It takes me few minutes to know when I spend time with them/it, whether I want to be with them/it.
I just finished my swim. Something that always soothes me. I feel content. I am content. And at peace. I had a hate list (people who really depressed me) before. Somehow, now, all that doesnt seem to matter at all. Today I am doing what I like. It might not be the same that I want to do tomorrow, and god I hope, that I get to do whatever I want tomorrow.
I am lucky, for what I have now. Aint I? I 've actually no complaints about life, right now. Wow, I just realised that! *sigh* Feels like a burden is been taken off. You know, like you rub off the fog that forms over the window shield while you're driving.
I dont think I've missed out on things in life. I had a good group of school friends, whom I catch up with every now and then. College life helped me in sorting out my career. Some things in life could have better, but I am glad that it happened the way it did. It helped me be.
I dont want to lose this moment. I want to remember it crystal clear. And I am posting this, so that I read it if I get mind-fucked in the future.

So you think that this is the last pint that is left in the Beer botte? Look around. There are new ones still unopened. And few more still brewing. There is nothing called the last shot! :)

A year done

2006-10-20T21:42:00.000+05:30

To all random riffs and raffs, irrelevent topics and haphazard thoughts,
dearest blah, happy 1st anniversary
..more insanity to follow.

And oh ya, a happy birthday to Viggo Mortensen. Still love ya :)!

Elizabethtowned

2006-10-11T23:46:00.000+05:30

How we spend our time in life, we always almost forget to live it. Isnt that sad? Every morning, we get up, we wear our clothes and as smooth as it could be, we dorn our masks too. Arent we all trying to hide the real-self? From whom.. The others? Them? ..Who again?

And here came a movie, that said nothing and said it all. Elizabethtown.
Thanks D, for gettin me the movie to watch. Loved it.

Life is shitty. But is damn good.

Returning back

2006-10-06T16:27:00.000+05:30

There are times that you are satisfied by simple things. Like finding ice cubes in the fridge after a hot day or a hug or a stupid offline message or sometimes a forgotten five ruppee note aged inside an old novel or sometimes even when winamp, when in shuffle mode, plays your favourite song. I could use a couple of them right now.
Have been loafing around too much for the past week. Somehow, feel extremely kiddish. I want to confess my sins :) to somebody, and have a heart to heart to chat and just feel light and do craziest stuffs ever. And then change. I am quite versatile. Thats what my friends say. But sometimes that backfires so hard, before I can even gather my sense, and leaves me to think, why the hell am I doing whatever I am doing. I've started noticing that I go off in a trance. Sometimes I am not even apart of a conversation mentally. I have to wake up. I need to. I feel that I am too gullible, that I need to gather my reigns and start anew.

Do you remember when you wore an umbrella skirt, you stood on the ground, and looked at the sky and went round and round and round and round, you felt dizzy but still you went on, beacuse you wanted to see your skirt fly and one point you wished you could also take off. I feel like that now.

The other times

2006-10-03T21:46:00.000+05:30

Today has been a roller-coaster of emotions. Sometimes we think, we have seen it all. But fate takes extra care to slap you in the face with reality. Every notion that you believed in, breaks down, every thought comes to a standstill. Maybe it is this unpredictability, good or bad that life offers that I love.

There are a few demands that I have always wanted from life as a little girl. Though the list varied from time to time, few remains etched. For one, I know it is hopeless to hope for, still it is that childish desire, fetish crave that make me yearn. And it is dissolved in a lot of 'what if's' that I try avoiding that line of thinking. But when I come across people, and understand them through time, it wakes me up and I search answers within myself cos it isnt very easy talking about it. There is always this constant smirk of inner voice, mocking that I sometimes feel so foolish to even dream. What is the use? Temptation would only make a slave out of me. I am one such, who does not remain the same. I get addicted and finally lose myself in that web, and deny outside and say that I am just fine. Because I deny myself. Because the emptiness never mattered. Ah! you notice, I'm using past tense. Bull shit. Whom am I kidding.

Random Ramblings

2006-10-01T02:30:00.000+05:30

Today is one of those rare days, I finished work and came home early to find everything is in order and I find I have time to call my friends, pamper my dog, spend time with mom, relish dinner and finally find a book, read it till I wait for sleep to come over. One of those days, when I mentally tick off all those stuffs that I had planned to do, pending for a long time. One of those days, I sleep early, cozy and satisfied.

I read 'A Tiger for Malgudi' two days back. What a refreshing novel. Its sometimes a pity that R.K. Narayan is not as recognised as some of the so-called-profound-writers. The style, the narration, only one word could sum all that up. Brilliant. Waiting to get a fresh copy to add to my collection. I would love to do a solo post on RKN. But still have a few more precious novels to go before I do that.

Sometimes, when I see the sunrays filtering through my windows, fall on my crumpled bed, I see those dust speckles dance.. I wonder. After all, we are also teeny specks from space. And how we complicate our own life. I remember this lyric that went, 'The power of extreme leads to the tower of wisdom'. How difficult it is. To let go of yourself. To be extreme.

I have always laid down rules and regulations around me. And somehow suffocated in them. But for the past few months, I see myself changing. Somehow, now everything feels light. As if Atlas took back his burden with him left me free for the wake. Wake. Funeral of the past, maybe.

Now, I shatter the glass, for a rebirth
Cos, it was just a figment of my own cursed mind
Looking around, I was alone, not lonely.

Maybe I have not reached infinity. But definitely on the way. Love has always been a clutch. Now it feels like freedom, flowing and more than everything, complete.

"Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance
to dance along the light of day
And head back to the Milky Way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while
you were looking for yourself out there

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you
even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance,
freeze dried romance five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me"
(From Train - Drops of Jupiter)

Perfect.

Damn

2006-09-08T23:15:00.000+05:30

I just dont understand why some people cant accept others just the way they are. I mean, what the hell is your f***ing problem. Cant others hold on to opinions of their own? However lousy it is, its still mine. My way of thinking might be way different from your oh-i-am-so-sane one, my judgements might be wrong, but its still f***ing mine.
And there are this other lousy bunch that goes. 'Oh I told you so.' Oh thankyou people. Cos that really makes me feel good. I bow to you Lord Labakdases who really think that my business needs your attention and care. I also appreciate for the fact that apart from minding my business, you really also take time to stick your hairy nose and point out and advice when not asked. Bravo! *clap* *clap*
No seriously, are you really bothered? Isnt it that you are so damn tempted to make the other feel smaller than Tom Thumb? What sadistic pleasure you get out of depriving.
Whats with people when I say I am not interested in relationships. Really. Dont you get it or you havent done anything to take care of your brain hemmorhage or you dont comprehend basic English. Do take up Vendhan tutorials and spare the others atleast. Single women do not mean desperate women. Even if I want to be in one, you are definitely not 'it'.
Even when I am trying to heal myself of certain prejudices, you all twist my hand forcefully and push me back to the square one.
Love is not a frigging game to fool around. If you cant respect it, dont spoil it for others.
Why why. Never have I meant to harm anyone. Why should I get hurt? Try to be occupied with something or other and idle mind is really a devils workshop. I make my schedules full only to feel more empty than ever. What is wanted out of me. Take it and leave me a-l-o-n-e. I do not care whether you live but just let live.
Damn. Damn. Damn.

Reading for Suresh Kumar

2006-09-06T23:29:00.000+05:30

He is from Thiruchendhur doing his second year BA Literature, in Pachaiyappa. And he is blind.

After agreeing to do voluntary work, I was told to go to one Bharath Senior School in Adyar at 4. "Reading is from 4-6p.m.", they said. Arriving at the school, I was asked to choose to read tamil/english. English, being my obvious choice, I was sent this student whose exams were fast approaching in October. Thats how I met Suresh. I guided him to the nearest bench and made him sit next to me. He opened his plastic bag, and took out his 'History of English Literature' and handed it over to me. "I've read till Bernard Shaw. We need to start from the next writer", he said. While I flipped through the pages, frantically searching for the topic, he said, "Look over English Drama", and I found B. Shaw.
The next writer was , J.M. Synge. I started reading, quite aloud. When he stopped me and asked to move to a different place, to get away from the other voices that were disturbing him. The class was itslef filled with lots of blind students and their readers. We left the class and walked to the school playground, found ourselves a bench and sat down to an evening of hard core English playwrighters.
Though I was reading aloud, I was constantly looking at him for expressions and reactions. His eyes were half closed, as I could see grey pupils beneath them but he had this constant smile over his lips that I still cannot stop thinking about. His english knowledge was barely enough to understand complicated descriptions, neither was mine, but I was trying hard to make him understand, trying to replace with tamil examples, but was only left feeling a little disappointed in myself. The more I tried to make him understand, I felt I was misleading him and felt quite at loss whether I was doing any justice to what I was teaching him.
He did feel sleepy. :) Yes, after about an hour he was trying to shut out his yawn but in vain. He was trying to be polite. But could not stop when a big one conquered him. Which was when I yawned too! When we were done with two writers and a half, I stopped for a while and asked him how he coped up with this subject. He said they had tapes that they constantly listened to. And about exams? Do they type it? "We have scribes for that. Tomorrow if you decide to write for me, I will have to dictate my answers, and thats how we submit papers. We have 3 hours for that. They give us 15 minutes extra."
I usually accept to try new stuffs. Sometimes they make me bored stiff and some really make me interested and exceptional cases, clueless. This was one such. I looked over the playground in the middle of our session and there were school children playing in the playground and more than a dozen people with their readers spread over the corridors that encompassed the ground. What a contrast!
When we were done with the session, he asked me whether I would come the next day. I really did not know. I did want to and the same time confused whehter I would help him at all or waste his hours of study.

I dont know. Tomorrow is another day.

The Window

2006-09-01T22:54:00.000+05:30

Wafts. Thoughts. Breeze. Drowsy. Dreams. Blur. Doped. Sink. Abyss. Falling. Depths. Dark. Black. Tinge. Cold. Alone. Corner. Rigid. Splash. Plunge. Water. Blue. Transperant. Wavy. Corals. Dance. Stroke. School. Fish. Up. Sea. Air. Gulp. Alive. Float. Still. Relax. Sky. Clear. Beach. Sand. Green. Virgin. Jungle. Collapse. Tide. Time. Awake. Run. Fly. Wings. Soar. Far. Clouds. Rain. Drenched. Shelter. Tree. Perch. Nest. Home. Sleep. Hours. Morning. Dew. Leaves. Scent. Bud. Blooms. Colours. Easel. Brush. Canvas. White. Space. Infinity. Horizon. Line. Streak. Rays. Branches. Filters. Speckles. Kaleidoscope. Design. Passion. Kiss. Touch. Enerve. Memories. Reel. Film. Scene. Shot. Act. Mask. Reveal. Stare. Mirror. Melt. Evaporate. Wafts.

Raindez-vous

2006-08-13T21:58:00.000+05:30

And it started raining. In all my 9 years in this flat, I've been the only one who opened the balcony doors while the whole world shut theirs. My balcony faces about 8 more of them. And never have I seen anyone even try staying out just to even feel rain. All of them scurry about to get all their dried clothes in and then shut their doors and themselves. Everytime I stood in my balcony, leaning out as far to try and hug the rain, I used to see my neighbours gawk or point out their fat accusing fingers at me, or nodding their heads the usual way, all from their closed barred windows. Jailed. And everytime, I used to pity them.
When I see people shying away from rain, treating it like an untouchable, it really amuses me. Even in the roads. Its dangerous to drive through heavy ones. Agreed. But detesting a downpour that is rare in a deep-frying-metropolitan-city, is criminal. With passing years, with more rains and more gawking, I was still the only one out with the rain. I stopped pitying them long time back, as I was now more than ever, possessive. Sole-lover perhaps. It purifies. Every single drop. You just need to close your eyes and feel each and every touch. Like an affair. When a drizzle, it gently teases. When a downpour, it hugs. When a heavy torrent, it roughens, beats. Now, standing over my balcony, (and dripping over my keyboard!), want to be one with the drops, falling over leaves, petals, wafted by the wind and finally splashing on earth. Li'l Johny can play later.

I am a Butterfly - Part II

2006-07-17T22:25:00.000+05:30

Laden with tears my heart sought
in embracing inadequate dogmas
binding me from ever eternal freedom
thrusting me back into the dark cocoon
tangled in luxurious silk, what irony.
With superficial hopes of survival I struggled.
My illicit affair continued
listening to a faraway buzz of the local crowd
The silk interweaved around my wings
A new kaleidoscope emerged
eluding, daunting, twisting
and suffocating and conquering
Slit me open, someone please
Maybe then I could sleep soundly still
I could breathe free, just this once.

From sublime to ridiculous,
from mirth to misery
As I awaited a long wait
to be consumed by doubt
smitten by pain and wanting more
doped by silence
Black became the only colour

Afterall
Death, only a luxury delayed.

Not today

2006-07-08T19:51:00.000+05:30

I so want to perform Voodoo on somebody. Any tips?

Undone

2006-06-19T11:53:00.000+05:30

And I found you, in my mirror
you had left your shadow here
right behind, in me

The traces of the corners of your smile
the touch, the kiss, all this while
just sum up your existance in me.

You are still very alive within
no more can I pretend
I confess
I am not me without you.

And the day turned dark
the sun sighed once but last
leaving me to face
a bleak empty sky

My soul screamed for
a thin streak of hope,
for your hand to caress mine
but all was left here
were the beach, the waves
and a lost footprint on the sand.

Sony W550i

2006-06-19T11:06:00.000+05:30

Me proud owner of this phone! A gift from Dad.
Boasts of 256mb space
Walkman
Camera 1.3Mpx 256 colours
Blue tooth!
Though feels quite complicated after my nokia 3310 :)

Happy Birthday Me

2006-06-18T00:40:00.000+05:30

Another year gone past *sigh*
I'm happy now. Cant think of anything to write down.
Just happy :)

What me wierd?

2006-06-16T17:38:00.000+05:30

"You must post a blog with six weird facts or habits about yourself.
At the bottom, name the six people you will tag next.
Leave them a comment to let them know they've been tagged and to read your blog"

And I have been tagged by illusion. Now mind you, I am just an ordinary gal here, who does normal things everyday. So there is nothing extraordinary when I say..

When I wake up everyday morning, I prefer silence. That means No TV. No blaring music. No unwanted talking. Till I finish my first tea and my daily newspaper reads. Cos this is the time I schedule my day. I hate it when this silence gets disrupted and when it does, I am pretty much upset/restless the rest of the day.

I am not very particular about washing my face, but my nose has to be very clean. Infact, if its shiny, I am happy.

I dream everyday, wake up to remember each one of them. Sometimes I do get up in the night and sleep back, only to notice that the dream continues on its journey. Sort of a megaserial.

Its not that I hate spending time with friends, but I am perfectly happy alone. Doing what I do! Pampering me :) And sometimes I can just sit still and do nothing for hours.

Most of my dreams, are pretty realistic. If I did not finish a conversation/chat with someone, I'd probably have finished it in the dream, and wake up wondering whether I talked to them or not. It was funny when it first happened, but not anymore. Cos, I had already finished this tag yesterday, but did not see it in the blog, when I woke up today morning.
Which is also why I dont see horror flicks. I know I will see them again.

I do karoke all the time. And dance my dance when I am alone. I do bharathanatyam, combine it with rock, jazz and salsa. I have learnt none. So you can imagine the amount of entertainment I provide my neighbours. Hmm..Maybe I could fine them.. A thought.
And I always sing when I ride my bike.

I hate to wear too many stuffs when I go to sleep. So the minimalistics it is. And I find it wierd when people go to sleep with their earrings on. Doesn't it prick?

My turn-on's in a guy- Muscles? Nah. Height? Nah? Brains.. well that comes later.
The first thing to attract moi, is clean feat. Especially toe-nails, to the very last little one. Cleaner the better! Yumm! So if you got clean nails, well, you got me! And sometimes, it gets difficult to see them when they wear shoes n all, those times, well I wait for the brains to speak.

Now, I'd find it awkward if somebody doesnt agree with me on these lines. What me wierd? Nah.

And I tag the other purrfectly normal people,
Pristy (Babe! Me waitings to see what you got up ur sleeve)
Suderman (Neighbourhood hero, I'm sure you've got lots to share!)
1Dollarsaint (He He! Gotcha)
Vibha (Wake uuup!)
Camphor (If you've not already done it..)
Monk (Now, this is work for your other blog)

Oh, for an unblemished love

2006-06-09T20:51:00.000+05:30

Isnt it the ultimate satisfaction when u see the person that u like so much happy?

You plan a perfectly planned out date only to end up doing the craziest stuffs. And it gives you a childish delight, when both of you steal a moment to kiss, to touch or even just to look at each other, in a crowded room when nobody is looking. Sharing a secret codeword that makes you blush everytime you utter it alone.

The thought of trying to them give the world, not just the world but the best things from the world and make it exclusive for that person and look from a corner of the large room called life, to see them laughing, that would bring tears to you and when you look at them and they are jabbering away, it doesnt make sense anyways but it still doesnt matter as long as..

And sometimes, it doesnt matter even if that person gets along with another person, and you are just fine with it because, its just the way it is.

And when you grab their hands and run into the hills and then stop, gasping for air, grasping that moment to long.. and when you smile to yourself thinking about all these things, one rainy afternoon.. a sense of satisfaction engulfs you.

yeh pal hai wahi
jisme hai chupi
poori ik sadi saari zindagi..

And when you are sitting with them and you share the silence.. probably the best conversation you've ever had.

Where is love?
Pure and simple?
A word, easily leashed out, rarely meant.

Of waiting, Of joy of seeing your lover after a long time, Of trying to converse and choking on words, Of blue inland letters and stamps and black ink, Of trying to read those very letters in dark corners?

Where is romance in smses and chat sessions and speed?

If love was unity of souls, what is marriage?
Why does marriage have to exist, when love does? Isnt that binding, controlling and restrictive? Doesnt marriages take place to mean, that you dont trust the other person to stay with you forever? If you do trust, then why marry? Isnt that branding the sheep as yours?
How can a marriage instill trust?

Where is love?
In its true form, unconditional?

Checkmate

2006-06-01T07:30:00.000+05:30

Life

a big game
every pawn we move,
we step away from home
we struggle to cross
the thresholds of blacks and whites
standing steady bearing fights.
Then we reach our destiny,
at last,
after much loss than gain,
we think
was it really worth the trouble?

Ne me quitte pas - Jacques Brel

2006-05-30T22:00:00.000+05:30

(I'm drunk on this song. If you would like to hear it, do leave ur mail address in the comment box)

Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me
Il faut oublier It's necessary to forget
Tout peut s'oublier Everything you need to forget
Qui s'enfuit deja That which is already over
Oublier le temps Forget the times
Des malentendus Of misunderstandings
Et le temps perdu And the times lost
A savoir comment To know how
Oublier ces heures To forget those hours
Qui tuaient parfois Which kill sometimes
A coups de pourquoi The reasons why
Le coeur du bonheur The heart is full of happiness
Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me

Moi je t'offrirai Me, I will offer you
Des perles de pluie The pearls of rain
Venues de pays Coming from the country
Où il ne pleut pas Where it does not rain
Je creuserai la terre I will dig the earth
Jusqu'apres ma mort Until after my death
Pour couvrir ton corps For covering your body
D'or et de lumière Of gold and Of light
Je ferai un domaine I will create a kingdom
Où l'amour sera roi Where Love will be king
Où l'amour sera loi Where Love will be law
Où tu seras reine Where you will be queen
Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me

Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me
Je t'inventerai I will invent
Des mots insensés Words that don't make sense
Que tu comprendras That you will understand.
Je te parlerai I will talk to you
De ces amants là About these lovers
Qui ont vu deux fois Who saw twice
Leurs coeurs s'embraser Their heart embrass/blaze itself
Je te racont'rai I will narrate to you
L'histoire de ce roi A story about one king
Mort de n'avoir pas That death did not conquer
Pu te rencontrer If I meet you
Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me

On a vu souvent One saw often
Rejaillir le feu A spark of fire
De l'ancien volcan Of an ancient volcano
Qu'on croyait trop vieux That was believed to be very old
Il est paraît-il It appears that
Des terres brûlées The burnt ground
Donnant plus de blé Gives more corn
Qu'un meilleur avril On a beautiful April
Et quand vient le soir And when the evening falls
Pour qu'un ciel flamboie The sky blazens
Le rouge et le noir Of red and black
Ne s'épousent-ils pas Which do not merge itself
Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me

Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me
Je ne vais plus pleurer I am not going to cry anymore
Je ne vais plus parler I am not going to talk anymore
Je me cacherai là I will hide there
À te regarder To look at you
Danser et sourire Dance and smile
Et à t'écouter And to listen to you
Chanter et puis rire Sing and then laugh
Laisse-moi devenir Leave me to become
L'ombre de ton ombre A shadow of your shadow
L'ombre de ta main A shadow of your hand
L'ombre de ton chien A shadow of your dog
Ne me quitte pas Don't leave me

L'amour français

2006-05-26T19:27:00.000+05:30

Et alors, niveau deux aussi s'est passé très vite :( Hier, nous nous sommes présentés notre sketch "L'amour français" où j'étais mettre-en-scène (director). Je me suis bien amusé de écrire le sketch et jouer mes roles avec mes camarades. Et mes camarades étaient très gentils. Ils m'ont suivi et chaque personne a ajouté quelque chose dans leur caractère! Tout d'abord c'est difficile pour recueillir dix personnes et plus difficile de trouver un groupe qui coopère. Tous sont resté chaque jour pour une heure et quelque fois pour deux ou trois heures aussi. Ils m'ont donné une très bonne opportunité pour découvrir mes talents.
Et Madame, Qu'est-ce que je peux dire, elle était chaque jour jusque nous avons fini notre repetitions, a nous encouragé et si nous avons fait les erreurs, elle a donné ses idées et elle a amélioré notre sketch. Je n'aurais rien fait sans Madame.
Je ne pense pas (oui, je sais, santhosh. C'est subjonctif!).. Je ne pense pas que le sketch sois apprécié par tout le monde comme ça. Tout les gens rirent pour chaque mots que nous avons dit! Nous étions vraiment étonnant parceque nous n'avons jamais pensé à cette réaction. Chaque personne, après le sketch nous a dit que ils se sont amusés très bien!
Je suis très heureuse hier parce que j'avait été appréciée par le director. Il lui même dit que je dessine bien. Et aussi demande si nous voulons presenter le sketch une autre fois. Nous étions tellement dans le septième nuage! Parce que nous avons nous amusons bien pendant les pratiques. Alors, la pensée de le présenter une autre fois devant une plus grande audience a été bien accueillie par nous.
Le directeur a aussi libéré notre livret. J'ai fait tant d'erreur quand je l'ai dessiné. Le directeur a donné la première copie à Madame Hema. Maintenant nous l'attendons pour son opinion.
Après le sketch j'ai chanté aussi le chanson "Elle rentre de l'école" de Hélene Segara. Je l'ai aimé chanter. Et David avec moi, un de mes camarades, a bien joue son guitar. Nous avons pratiqué seulement ce matin de jour. Je ne chante pas plus fort. Mais ce n'était pas mauvais.

Ce projet m'a donné beaucoup de confiance en théâtre surtout les musical. Et aussi m'a encouragé beaucoup d'oser faire les choses nouveaux, differents et essayer bien tous avant décider le meilleur et pour faire confiance à mon instinct.

Pour la traduction,

Ultimate Torture

2006-05-26T18:43:00.000+05:30

Raj TV - Veera - 21hours
K TV - Uzhaippali - 20hours

Streaks of lights (Low shutter speed)

2006-05-20T12:28:00.001+05:30

She woke up with a jerk. As she did everyday. She experienced a dream-filled sleep everynight. And hence woke up tired every morning. Her dreams were not of surreal colours but of real events. It was filled with people. People she met that very day, work left unfinished, calls unattended.. She often finished her work, her calls, in the dream that, sometimes reality deluded her. To wile away the dreams, she even joined gym such that her body fatigue would take over her mind and lull it to sleep. But the dreams grew even more livid and more real. As if she had now cleared the translucent fog off the windshield.

She closed her eyes again to recollect her last few scenes in the dreams. It had been the wierdest one till date. It was in her grandparents house. For the past few months, it had always happened there. The house where she spent most of her childhood afternoons, vacations. Where she had made houses out of bedsheets and created her own kitchens with choppu inviting her thatha and patti for tea. Where she hid everytime patti brought out 'Keokarpin' oil and comb to plat rettai pinnal and keep malli poo plucked from their own garden. Where she had run, jumped and shouted freely without inhibitons. Where she had been free. And happy.
After patti's death the house was sold. But still she passed by the street and looked lovingly at the thennai maram(coconut tree) that adorned the bangalow. The house she wanted to buy back one day.

In the dream, she was pregnant, and she was about to give birth. That was in the hall. There was a random doctor. The delivery happened in one quick motion. And suddenly a stranger was taking her baby and running away. She was shouting and trying to get up to call the stranger back, but the doctor was not letting her. He was telling her, to let go of it. She pushes him to run after the stranger. She was shouting to the stranger that she wanted to give milk to her baby, begging him to give the baby back. Her breasts wanted to be wanted. The stranger still running, deaf ears. The doctor was running behind her. His voice fading away. Silence. Suddenly she looked around to find that there was nobody in front of her neither at the back. The doctor, the house the baby and the stranger had disappeared. She felt a dull thud in her breasts. Thats when she had woken up.
The dull thud had not disappeared from her breasts. Her breathing still was short and fast. It had seemed too real. She closed her eyes again for a silent prayer and got up from her bed. Her hand immediately touched her stomach. As if expecting a small lump to be there. Her heart felt heavy. Her pillows crushed. 'Freud, I wonder what your interpretation for this one would have been.' With a programmed motion she reached for her cell phone to check the time. 8:35 pm. Even today she would not be able to wash the clothes. Just enough time to get ready for her work. She worked in a call centre. Her schedule for this week started at 10:30pm. And it took almost an hour to get to office.
After a hurried wash, and even more hurried "breakfast" of a slice of toast and juice, she hurried down the stairs, pinning her dupatta on the way. She tried crossing the road to her busstop.
This road was always the busiest at anytime of the day. There was an underground terminal to cross, which she never used during the night. After a few seconds of hesitating, stopping and walking, she managed to go halfway, only to be stuck there for a few minutes. Her thoughts looked about at the streaks of light, blues and yellows and reds as it zoomed in opposite directions at either sides, making her rooted the same spot. Her life had also been the same. Balancing on a tight rope. Cat on the wall situation. She was single, living alone. Her parents were in another city. She had wanted to be independent, and moved away despite their protests. Though sometimes she missed her mom's prescence and her dad's being-there nature, she had opted out.
She caught her office bus with a second to miss, and reached for her seat. Her window seat was occupied by somebody else. Silently cursing, she satisfied herself with an aisle one. Jealously looking from time to time at the widow seat, her window seat, which deserved her, especially today, to sort out her thoughts..

'Goodmorning America.' She had finished the names upto 'L' in her list yesterday, or actually, today morning. She looked through the names Madison, Markson, Morgan.. They could have been Morons with capital 'M's for all she cared. She started her calls, with a fake accent, with a fake name and a fake identity. All the cat-calls restarted. 'Will you come on a date with me'/'Whats your real name'/'I want to have sex with u'.
'What kind of a work satisfaction do I derive start and end my day with falsehood?'
She continued with her calls. Took a break for five minutes. Her eyes which were too used to the radiation from her computer took her some seconds to trace out the room. Her colleagues were joking about one of their clients, asking simple questions of how to start the computer. All in the game. But who were the real jokers? She smiled unaware of the joke and headed for the nestea counter. The brown stains had not yet been cleaned from the rack. She found it broken down. The other alternative was coffee which she neither hated it nor liked it. There was still laughter to be heard in the background, though she felt that the mockery was pointed towards her at her fate. She returned back to her seat, mumbling something incomprehensible to herself and others and started with her list again.Though she was calling up hoardes of customer, the empty feeling never left her.

Her back started paining. It was her wretched chair again. She tried nudging hreself a little on the left and right and settled still uncomfortable. 2.30 and her immediate boss came to survey the day's work at progress. More cat calls. An increasing backache. Time dragged slowly. 'The minute I get off I will gym for half hour, go for a swim, and have a good breakfast and then have a lovely sleep'. Happy that a concrete plan had been made, her energy level rose up to survive the day/night.

6:15am. She came out of the centre. And took her bus to the gym. She changed to her tracks and started with her treadmill. Her legs wobly, adjusted itself. Slow but steady she increased the speed so that she could run.
She loved running. Against the breeze. Past the trees. Under the sky. On the tar road. Just letting herself free. But could she do that? Her breasts would heave if she ran. It was only natural. But men would gawk. Aware of it, her clutched hands would move automaticaly a level higher to protect herself. Or she had to contend herself to a mummyfication process - wearing a bra, then a sports bra and then a tshirt, so that it would not move, making it even more unnatural, restricting and tight when the whole point was to just loosen up and run and breathe clean air? 'Maybe men wanted us to wear dupatta while jogging also? Which guy wears a baniyan then another baniyan, tshirt and jogs down the street?'

And now here she was, inside four walls, on a machine, with the airconditioning mixing everybodys breath and sweat together, facing a mirror and a random hindi number that did not make sense to anyone least her. Handicapped. She found that her backache had not reduced any lesser and stopped at fifteen minutes only to feel even more tired. She reached for the locker, having a cup of warm water. Her swimsuit was cramped in a corner. She reached for it, to change to go to the pool.
Like fish to water, she had taken to swimming. In the bright blue water, she could lose herself for hours. It had the rejuvanating effect on her. Especially while doing back stroke, with the water below and the sky above gave her some happiness that she embraced close to her heart. And she needed it very badly today.

As she went to her changing room, the reason for her backache hit her. It was her 27th day. She had started menstruating. 'I cannot swim.' 'Celeberating womanhood, they say,' she grimaced. She left for the medical shop only to have a smirking salesman. She hated it.
She took an auto to get to her place. She wanted to cry. Not of depression. But the dream, her unwashed clothes, the lost window seat, the work, the faking, the teasing, the brokendown nescafe machine, the brown stains, the run, her periods, and finally the salesman.. Of her routine. They were taking over her. Only the tears did not come.

'A good strong tea does the magic,' she quoted her mothers line to herself. She reached her home. She started boiling the water for tea. She reached for the three roses carton, only to realise that it was empty.
She burst out crying.

Take One

2006-05-06T13:40:00.000+05:30

I wanted to write about a recording that I did, few days back for a Japanese Music Director.

Before this, I had done two recordings in my whole life. One for my classmate last year. A tamil song which he later made an album and submitted for college project. I never saw the final version. That took one whole night. And the other for my senior. This happened some three years back. He wanted to create a sample track for submitting it to a producer. I really loved that music and had a great time doing alaap for that track. He just let me sing what pleased me. My voice was good those days (I used to practise for one hour in the morning. But as days passed, you know what happened). The same senior called me last week to audition. I was not that sure whether I would do justice as I had not practised music for such a long time. But still landed up at the studio.
The studio was beautiful with great interiors. The first things that caught my attention were the colour schemes and the choice of furnitures. Very neat. My audition started. After singing few alaaps of random raagas, he finally approved of me or rather my voice. They gave me the track that I needed to practise and told me to come after two days.
I had prayed fervously that the pitch should not be that high, as I had base voice. But when I listened to the track, the pitch was extremely low! Did not see that coming! C grade, which is oru (one) kattai. I played the song again and again and again and soon enough my whole family was humming that song. Finally the D-day happened.
I reached the studio and was in the recording room by 10.30am. Ah! What a whole lot of retakes I did. I was quite nervous to get the song right, that I forgot to enjoy singing it. I had to also do a lot of false voice stuffs which when I heard in my own head sounded very gritty. Inside a recording room, it is literally pin drop silence. So when you do a mistake, it shows so profoundly. It just magnifies. After takes and takes and more retakes I finally got done with the song. And I had enough of it too.
When I came out of the studio, it was 4pm! I never thought I would take this long and felt quite dumb. Cos the song was not that complicated and..
So now he has taken the tracks with him to Japan for refining the track. 'Its going to be famous in Japan', he said. I smiled. I hope so too.
Anyways, was quite an experience. Got paid for my voice! That has never happened you know, before. Parched, but happy :)

Wrong Signals

2006-05-06T10:30:00.000+05:30

Red denotes 'stop'
Orange is for 'ready'
Green is 'go'

We learnt this in 1st standard Social science. Our first lesson.

Before, one did not know when the signal would turn green, so was forced to wait till it did. Now thanks to these number boards at the signals, vehicles zoom past at 5,4 or sometimes even 9,10, as if competing for countdowns. And whats even more irritating is when they honk when the signal is still red. I hate these number board systems. We were better off without them.

Update : Read what Swaroop did here, when he saw a Traffic Patrol Car whizz past the signal when it was red! Bravo Swaroop!

At Mylapore Maangollai

2006-05-05T22:43:00.000+05:30

So, went to Mylapore Maangollai for the Lok Paritran meeting. They had volunteers to steer clear the traffic, to guide the vehicles to a nearby parking spot. Was there at 5.30 pm. There were several volunteers arranging chairs. The stage was already set. The only wait was for the crowd to assemble. The speakers started playing "Acham Acham Illai" (Indra). And then went on to play Bombay theme music, "Thamizha, thamizha" (Roja), one more from lagaan, and finally "Yuva". Lok Paritran also had their own music 'puratchi paadal' as one girl referred to it. Around 6.30, when the place was 3/4th occupied, the meeting started.
What I found in those two hours was just raw unbridled energy. New ideas. New approach. And a very straight forward group of people, trying to make an effort. And all short speeches, cut to the point. Precise. Their first request to the crowd was to, 'come out of your houses and vote, have your say, involve yourself in the politics.' Seems only 41% cast their votes in Mylapore in the last Election. Infact, Santhanagopal's first few words were, "We are supposed to have makkal-aatchi(ruled by the people). But what we have been experiencing is 'makkal' and 'aatchi' separately. And what we aim to do, is to bring both together. Eradicate the system that is being followed." Another noted speaker, Karthik, spoke in simple layman terms bringing out the significance of role, a youth plays in the society. One another person in the group, whose name I forget, (think Seetharaman), seems his friends and himself, from Mylapore had decided to cast void votes, till they came across LP. Then they seeked the party and approached and found them apt enough to join hands, and now are proud to be a part of it.
The meeting ended with the Lok Paritran's song, for which all of us had candles that struggled to remain lighted inspite of the strong breeze. It kind of reminded me of the party itself. Trying, and making an effort..
The minute National Anthem was sung, the chairs were cleared immediately to give way for the traffic to pass without hindrance.

One thing that I did not know.
If you do not have your Voting Card, its ok, you can still vote. If your name is there in the voter's list, all you need to show is your student ID card or Ration card for proof.
So there, no excuses this time :) Go ahead and do your share of duty.

Vote

2006-05-04T06:54:00.000+05:30

I was so shocked to see SunTV advertise for a colour TV if people cast vote on them. According to CNN IBM census, that would cost them around 4.5 million if they did win. A good way to start spending the country's economy that too when the whole of India has about 50% under poverty line. Then the AIADMK offering gold.. Publising your goals, and your plan of action as the next CM is fine. But isn't this open bribery. Isn't there any law against this that the Central government could take action against?
Chennai, this year, is making enough news to be ridiculed about. The politics in our state is turning out to be one big carnival. With two big parties clashing, lets not forget the ones who are trying to make a mark.

Volunteers needed for Lok Paritran.

Finally something the youth can get together and show what we are capable of. Praveen has written elaborately of what is needed here. All he is asking of us is some of our time to help them make a difference.

And we do have a choice this time. So, vote.
Even if you are not inclined towards any party, still, vote.

For more information click here: LOK PARITRAN

x-(

2006-04-29T19:28:00.000+05:30

I lost my cell. I lost my cell. I lost my cell.
I lost all my contact numbers.
I lost my Rotring pen, that I use for drawing. Quite costly.
I started painting. I drew Radha like a ghostly figure, that even I am scared to look at.

I am going insane, insane, insane.

St.Philomina Basilica

2006-04-25T15:58:00.000+05:30

It was night time when I first encountered her. My first glance at St.Philomina Basilica, in Mysore, only drew one word from my lips. Beautiful. The twin spires stood magnificent against the night skies. I heard a distant voice from a mosque nearby. Immediately, as if waiting for the cue, the church bells that were hung inside the spires, rang. Democracy at its best. There was a mass going on inside the church. The choir rang out to fill in the empty spaces of the Quran. This was how I fell in love.

This colossal church was built in the early 20th century to revere St.Philomina (alias St.Philomena - a 3rd century saint from Greece, who was beheaded by the rulers). The first foundation stone was laid by the Mysore Maharaja. They started construction in 1933 and took eight long years to complete this neo-gothic architectural stone-walled wonder. And it was worth it. Though I asked a lot of people, I could not find the name of the Architect. Then found through the net. Reverend Rene Feuge. The architecture is supposed to have drawn inspiration from Germany’s Cologne Cathedral. The cathedral has a catacomb, which houses the statue of St.Philomina, brought from France.

The interior was such a dissapointment because of the walls which has been whitewashed and decorated with plastic flowers. I hurried out, as crowds disturb me. Not just in churches. But I feel, any place of worship is best when experienced in silence.

As I neared the rear of the church, realisation hit me that the aerial view of this cathedral would resemble a cross. And because the church was lit inside for the congregation, the five stained glass windows looked even more beautiful each depicting the birth of christ, the last supper, the crucification. The other two, were the resurrection and ascension of christ, which I could not make out that clearly.

Owing to lack of light, I was not able to study more details. So I made the trip again, to her, today, the first thing in the morning. This time, it turned out to be more personal than just bricks and stones bound together.

I gathered my drawing materials and reached the church. The bright gulmohar tree at the entrance caught my eye. Night time had hid it. Now it commanded a glance, by withering few of its red petals to the ground. Found a place to settle and got all ready to start my sketch. I sat down and looked up at her. And I was lost. The church was 165ft in height, with the cross on the twin-spires adding another 12ft to it. I am not aware of the common proportion of the churches(made a mental reminder to go visit Santhome). And this one was 165ft in length too, which made it even more attractive to me. I have always been madly attracted towards squares, circles, cubes, stars. As they depict perfection. Harmony. Equanimity. Composure. And uniqueness. And the proportion here only brought to my mind, the divine proportion of Pi, mentioned in Da Vinci Code. I am getting diverted..

As I said, I was lost. I did not know where to start from. Usually I start with a rough structure sketched out very lightly and then darken it with details. But this time, I could not even do an outline. After an hour of erasing and sketching and more erasing, my white paper, now soiled held few scratches of pencils that no way neared a description of a Cathedral.

I closed my book. And looked again. This time just to look. The magnanimity hits you everytime. The red engraved doors against grey walls. Such a striking combination. The cornices, the long windows and niches here and there..

Got up and walked towards the entrance. It was 12 noon outside. So my eyes immediately wrinkled to adjust to the dim-lit interior. One thing that I love in churches are the wooden pews. Especially when churches are empty. Neatly laid, one after the other, with bibles in front of them. The empty pews merge with the silence and brings calmness to the body and mind. I took the side corridor to study the paintings of the life of Jesus and finally landed in front of the altar. I suddenly panicked because I was wearing my slippers. Then realised I was inside the Church. But still felt uneasy. So again went out and left my slippers and came back in. My feet felt wonderful on the marble flooring.

I took a corner seat and settled. And studied the stained glass windows one after the other. The noon light was filtered through the orange glasses. The roofs were octaved, i think, to bounce back sound. Then saw the marble aisles next to the altar. The designs reminded me of Mughal. (If you notice, the archs of the mughals are the same as the christian entrances. They have parellel lines which suddenly converge to a point forming a curve). My eyes finally settled upon Jesus on the cross. Few people were kneeling in front of the altar, praying. Their beliefs, faith and prayers interlinking with the silence, bringing an aura of bliss. The candles, that were lit in front of me, the black wafts from the white candles forming mirages and was distorting the people and the statue, making it seem so alive. Linking all of us for just that one moment and making us aware of a superior prescence? The bright gulmohar tree at the entrance suddenly came to my mind. Of the withering of the red petals. Of shedding of the drops of blood of Christ.

As it came, the wind blew out a candle. I got up and lighted it and mouthed a silent amen. And went on my way.

&

2006-04-05T06:36:00.000+05:30

finally, I start work from today. I just hope, I have taken the right decision. Either ways, I'm not going to look back on it.

Wish me luck guys.

In search of Robert Langdon

2006-04-02T14:11:00.000+05:30

I never thought Tom Hanks would fit the bill as Robert Langdon in yet-to-be-released Da Vinci Code (not that Ron Howard sought my advice!). But Dan Brown's discription of Robert Langdon, Harvard Symbologist, tweed jacket, with few streaks of grey, a mysterious aura around him, had formed a completely different silhoutte in my mind. Maybe it was just me, I thought. But few of my friends agreed too. I had a younger Harrison Ford in mind. In that case, even Pierce Brosnan could have been perfect but for his Bond image. But definitely not Hanks. He is a brilliant actor, agreed. But he somehow lacks the charisma of a 40-yr old professor. I immediately remembered Clark Gable in his 40's. Even Gregory Peck from the days of Roman Holiday/Mc Kenna's Gold?

The book is famous and still getting famous, thanks to the court case. One does not need a brilliant actor to sell it. Only the presentation is much awaited. For which I am sure, Alan Cameron will do justice on the sets.

On the other hand Jean Reno as Bezu Fache is perfect choice.

,

2006-03-31T20:45:00.000+05:30

After a long time, I sat on a swing and was swinging away to glory for about half an hour, in a park in Kottur Gardens. I had lived there when I was in my 5th standard. I threw away my slippers and felt my feet sink into the sand as I sat down. When I clutched the chain, it was only automatic to let go of thoughts. Actually felt as if the world was swinging for me. I closed my eyes to get ready to fly. A distant tape-recorder was playing some random english numbers. Matched together with light gentle waft of breeze, swinging the braches of nearby tree in a rhythm corresponding to mine. It was my orchestra. Felt free. Childish. And more than anything, alive :)

I am listening to "We can be heroes, just for one day" by Wallflowers.

Perfect.

Love,

2006-03-30T19:37:00.000+05:30

simple yet so complicated
a fairytale yet so natural
forever yet so shortlived
popular yet so secretive
abundant yet so scarce
free yet so priceless
common yet so rare
a dream yet so real
close yet so distant
human yet so divine
old yet so new

Sunday Story - From Ashok

2006-03-29T13:09:00.000+05:30

I had mentioned about the ashram visit earlier in my blog. Click here to read it. We had super fun. My friend Ashok, who organised the whole lot, wrote this mail to all of us. Wanted to post it.

"Sometimes we feel that we are small and helpless and we cannot do anything to make the world a better place to live in. What you say and what you do, does make a difference. It is not the famous or 'big' people who really make a difference to our world. But those who are very ordinary like you and me, those who feel a need to do something for others.

As Sunday, 26th March dawned bright and sunny, we a group of 13 volunteers gathered for a cause in Andhra Mahila Sabha, a place for 160(approx) kids (mentally / physically challenged) studying below 10th Std. They provide the kids with food, education, medication & shelter. We sponsored the breakfast, evening snack and the dinner for the day.

11:30 AM

We kick started the day with drawing competitions for the 7th, 8th & 9th Std students. The enthusiasm, zeal & skill they displayed was far beyond words can explain.

1:00 PM

With a prayer song from the kids, we started to serve them with the lunch.

2:30 PM

Few of our friends started applying mehendhi and nail polish for all the girls out there. We guys split ourselves with the boys and were talking/chatting and catching up with them. The girls got so excited getting their nails polished and seeing the mehndi. This is when we gotta know more about them, their hobbies, their favorite movie stars etc.

I have to make a special mention about Narashimalu who was there, who has been featured in Sun TV & Jaya TV for his oustanding determination. He showed us few samples which he had done in Macromedia FLASH. All animations. He's done his 6 months course in APTECH. He's physically challenged and he used only his legs to do all this. He was operating the mouse, using his toe! Not only this, he has also mastered the art of painting. The paintings which he showed us were master pieces. We were speechless. He also has ideas of exhibiting his paintings. We were all astonished to see the amount of determination he had to acheive things. On a personal note, I had goosebumps when I witnessed his capability

4:00 PM

It was time to serve the kids with some evening snack. We had ordered cakes for all the kids with some biscuits and choclates. With the snacks, we also announced the prize winners of the drawing competions. All the 10th Std kids were given Geometry boxes keeping in mind their board exams. All the kids were given a Pen, Pencil, Eraser and a sharpner.

In addition to the kids, there's another block wherein physically challenged women were given training on sewing, hand work etc. We went to that unit as well and distributed a set of Pen, Pencil, Eraser and a sharpner. Since we kept this unit also in mind whil ordering cakes, we had enough number of cakes to distribute.

Then it was time to say good bye to all of them. We had a great time with the kids out there. And am sure the kids too had a great time with us. With no mood to part, we left the place leaving our hearts with the kids saying bye to all of us.

I would like to thank each and everyone of you from my bottom of my heart who have contributed generously for this noble cause. Last but not the least, I have no words to thank all the volunteers who spent ample time with all the kids.

My special thanks to Varma, who co-ordinated with all our onsite friends and managed to pull in 20,000 plus. Great Job dude! Varma, please forward this mail to all our friends at onsite.

Hats off to all of you.

WE DID MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

This is not D-end of story. We will be going to another ashram sometime soon. For all those who couldn't make it this time, don't worry, join us next time. Will keep you all posted.
Regards,

Ashok

Intensity

2006-03-28T11:45:00.000+05:30

In every flame
that hugs you warm,
that lights up darkness,
there lies a fire to be aroused

In every wind,
that whispers secrets from the beyond,
there lies a hail to be prevoked

In every wave,
that rushes to kiss your feet,
there lies a storm to be awakened

In every heart
where there is love,
there hides hatred
that when evoked destroy
not others but thyself

Yesterday

2006-03-27T18:13:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, after meeting my friend at a restaurant, wanted to take an auto back home. But then, started walking. I walked seeing the bright signboards that decorated our city. Those flash lights, advertisements suddenly seemed very insignificant when I looked at the sky. There they were, the silent stars, blinking at us. For anyone who cared to look. Before I realised I had covered quite a long distance. Still did not have mind to take the auto. So I continued. As I turned at a corner, I saw myself facing a popular cinema theatre. Was very crowded. Could hear raucous laughter from random corners. When I went past it, I saw myself over there, one in the crowd, she seem to wave at me. I smiled back. Still walking. Thinking,
(It is a very important day for me because, I have to take a decision. About my career. Pick between two. A choice. Both are close to my heart, have its own advantages and disadvantages, still..)
The route that I had taken was one of the most travelled in my life. So it was more like looking back at the past and regarding the present with each step clashing at the same time. And I walked. The roads were curving. Th traffic, rushing. Lights blurring. So were my thoughts.
(It's like a tennis court, you know. The ball is bouncing back and forth with equal speed. Life seems very green. With life/envy? The net seems to be tiring. And the ball is been thrashed enough.)
My legs started paining. Felt like stopping. But it did not. My legs felt numb. With fatigue. But it walked as if, it knew walking to be the only action. It passed some friends houses. Some refreshment stands. Some auto stands. But it did not stop there, nor anywhere.
(Its all between passion and money. Only one can be chosen as the One. No compromise. My thoughts felt like an elongated full stop. Juggling between pedestrian crossing's blacks and whites)
I missed my bike. I could have zoomed past these artificial lights, without bothering to even look. But here I was, staring at them, my eyes blinding at the flourescent kaleidoscopes. Still walking.

Then I stopped. Looked at a building I had so loved from my childhood. My grandparents house. Something that I had sworn to buy it back. Maybe all this while, unconsciously, my soul wanted to take me to her. Just for a sacred glance. To touch. To hug its memories. To cherish every stone. There, I saw a little girl playing with her grand-mom. She turned and waved.

I smiled back.

Free this Sunday?

2006-03-23T19:58:00.000+05:30

We are planning to go to few ashrams/home to try and contribute how much ever we can. Contributions can be anything. We are looking at providing a days food, old clothes and spending time with them.

Any kind/amount of contribution accepted.
Every little thing makes a difference.

List of homes/ashrams which we are planning to visit:
Andhra Mahila Sabha -
Is a place for approx 150 kids (mentally / physically challenged) studying below 12th Std. They provide education, medication, food & shelter.
Bhavisya Deepam (Ashram for mentally challenged) -
The Place is donated by local Panchayat
Location : Tambaram
No. of inmates : 31
Good Life -
Home for Destitute ,Orphans and Mentally Challenged person.
Location : Tambaram
No of Persons : 72 (including 40 mentally challenged people)
BalaGurukulam
Home for 40 kids inclusive of 15 infants
Location : About 30 minutes from Ambattur OT

Starting with this Sunday, we are visitng Andra Mahila sabha -

11:00 AM - Drawing Competition

1:00 PM - Lunch

2:00 PM - Applying Mehndi & tatoos
4:00 PM - Snacks

If you would like to accompany us, contact :

Vivek - 98406 25848

Suman - 99401 76321

Ashok - 98408 52833

Dear me!

2006-03-14T14:11:00.000+05:30

Your blogging type is Artistic and Passionate

You see your blog as the ultimate personal expression - and work hard to make it great. One moment you may be working on a new dramatic design for your blog. And the next, you're passionately writing about your pet causes. Your blog is very important - and you're careful about who you share it with.

Whats your blogging personality?

Of Broken Bangles

2006-03-11T16:53:00.000+05:30

I would have never written about this. Never.

It was during my school days. I had to take two buses to come back home. Our school was opposite a boys college known for their rowdiness. It was a mainroad from the school to the busstop. But still, we used to take care not to go alone. In two's and threes, we used to juggle ourselves to the busstop. The comments passed were always ignored. As reacting to it might encourage them. My school bag can accomodate long books. But somehow, I never used to place them inside. I used to always hold it close to my chest. Just gripping it as a sanctuary. The every-day bus rides were nightmares. Getting down/into a bus was a sordid affair. I could only see the eager hands, when trying to squeeze out. The college used to have their afternoon batch come at the same time. So the buses were always crowded. I cannot relate to a particular day, when men never used to come close and 'accidentaly' fall on you because of the breaks. I am tall. So I was always requested to hold on to the rails, such that the shorter women could catch the ailes.There were so many days, when you could feel them pressing on to you. Even while sitting, you could just feel them shoving themselves against your shoulders. I remember keeping my bag, trying to hold on to it, while standing, such that it could create a distance. But the other passengers would tell me to give it to somebody who is sitting. Everybody was a stranger. You would not know where to look. Everytime somebody passes, there would be 'accidental' touches falling on your breasts, butts .. it did not matter.

One day, I took my bus. As usual, it was crowded. I realised that one guy was going on staring at me. And slowly, approaching me. Trying to avoid as much as possible, I tried to move closer to ailes with the other women. Before, I realised, he was there right behind me. Trying to stay calm, I murmured whatever came to my mind, at that point. Suddenly, there he was against me. When I looked back, he looked elsewhere. (For information : I was wearing salwar kameez + dupatta) With two more stops gone, and more crowd coming in, he was over me, too close rubbing himself against me. I cringed inwards at the touch. I moved. I looked around. I did not know what to do. He looked like a college guy. He might have been of the same college. It wont take him more days to find out my stop. For the first time, I wished I were a guy. I started towards the other entrance, he followed and thankfully got down at the next stop. Relieved I looked else where out of the window. He made a point to come to where I was looking to show me a thumbs-up sign. I felt cheap. I felt used. And dirty. I looked away only to get down in the next stop to take an auto back home. I had a broken home, then. I used to live with my father. I could not tell my mother over the phone. It stayed with me.

This happened a few months later. I got down from my first bus. I was pretty tired that day. And wanted to take an empty one, such that I could leisurely sit down. The second bus, I was to take, started from that bus stop. To my luck, I found an empty one. Went in and sat. After five minutes, a guy with a beard and lungi, came and sat right behind me. He kept his hands over my aile railing. I did not bother. After a minute, he brought his hand more further. I moved slightly to the front. After a second, I saw that he got his hand as far as my seat back. I turned back to tell him to sit else where. Only to find that he had his lungi up the waist, pointing to his penis and making gestures to me to come to him. I froze. But for a moment. Then clutched my bag and fled. That day I walked back home, tears streaming down my cheeks. The distance did not matter.

How to go? In a crowded bus or an empty one. It did not make a difference anyway.

This happened a year later. My animation classes used to get over at 7pm. But we used to stay back and do more work. One such day, I was returning back at home at around 9.00. The institution was 10 minutes away by walk. I had no two-wheeler then. I was coming back, and I turned towards my street. There was a cyclist coming from the opposite direction. Though it had concerned me little that time. As i was approaching my house, the cyclist grew quite close. He groped for my breast and pinched it hard. I cried. I was petrified. Before I came out of it, he was a good distance away, I ran after him, but..

I told my mom. I did not look at her eyes though. I felt guilty. But is it not supposed to be the other way? Why was I feeling cheap, when the only the action was so? She said,'Maybe beacuse of the shirt you were wearing.' I felt let down. How do I prove to her, a salwar would not have made a difference? I wanted to wash myself. Of his hands. Of his touch. But the impression remained. I felt like Lady Macbeth, trying to wash off . I failed, like her. There was only one streetlight, and I did not even see his face. He could have been there the next day, I would not know. He could have seen me everyday, I would not know. That day, I did not have any folder/long books to protect me. To this day, I still look everywhere when anybody walks towards me. I stop in one place, when there is a crowd trying to avoid groping hands. I still shudder when I think of that day. Deep anguish bringing anger to just..

I have been offered hotel rooms(by some very distinguished personalities), comments passed asking 'how much'(while walking on the road), offered lifts by 40 year olds (why, there was an old man walking right in from of me.. Offer him BASTARD) - Just the old man. Not even old women would be spared just for passing one qualification as a woman.

These were taught in a spirutal class. The three W's. Wine, women and wealth. Considered the most dangerous to Men. Are we objects on par with money and alcohols.

Easy come, easy go, is it?

Why do we get blamed for what we wear?

Even if there were eye-wtinesses, its very hard to come to the conclusion that the guy was at wrong. And sans anyone - We know what happened to Eve.

When I see so many numerous incidents posted, one worser than the next, I think of these government school girls who cling on to crowded buses with ready strings of boys who get in and out. Whom do they confess to? Living everyday as victims to the everyday whims of the opposite sex/

Is this how they celebrate man-hood? Are they so excited in destroying one's innocence. Letchers.

Worst is, when this topic crops up inbetween friends, not even one of them side-steps. Everyone has an incident to offer, that was etched in their minds. None was spared.

And when I see what the others (like what dhoomkethu wrote)are going through, should I feel thankful for having been left till this?

I do not want to get married for protection. I do not want to be somebody's sister, somebody's daughter or somebody's wife to be looked after. Just want to be me. Me. Somebody who could be independant and still be respected as a human. Without a man's shadow lingering.

Thanks to Praveen, for providing the link.

For Blank Noise blogathon, I broke my silence.

Happy Women's day

2006-03-08T11:10:00.000+05:30

Men rule the world, we rule them :D