Monday, December 1, 2008

competition and fear


Competition and fear seem to be two driving forces that seem to be driving the humanity these days...
And my take on both was contrary to mass opinion and behavior.... And yet again I fail to comprehend why?

Do I face competition?.... that was the question.... and it forced me to ponder...
I don’t... I had never faced any competition...
There isn’t a specific reason why.... maybe I never had anything to prove ...
There wasn’t a substantial threat to my existence... maybe I was always accepted and celebrated.... all my peers were so close to my heart to have any substantial competition with them... all loved me so that I wished best for them even that wasn’t in my personal benefit...
I also wonder why I wasn’t much frightened (I guess I wasn’t frightened at all) when the terror struck our city...
My dear ones had very narrow escape ... the place I love as architect was shattered... I felt I was close to loose everything that I have and yet I am not scared... may be its true that I am not emotional... towards myself and others... maybe its true that this world doesn’t effect me... as much as it effects others...

May be I am too insane to be human... maybe I don’t value human existence

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

void of finality


void that is surrounded by mass
tells about the emptyness of complete
she breaths through these pockets
under the surround of those mighty forms
the tightness of the bond, finds its definition...
in the expression of the space
two entities share in a clasp
relations live on unsatisfied desires
without which they become complete
and the finality make them forgotton soon....

Monday, November 3, 2008

floral pants


She reached... home.... or so to say so.... slowly climbing those spick and span steps.... counting on each step.... gasping for strength... it was one of those days of year when she wish the air has more oxygen so a little of it can take her long.... on such days when she is short breath and pollen in air shows its strength... strange she feels how full grown human like her can be made to bow before the small particle like pollen... nature has strange ways to show every small or large object its place....

The final tread and she is there.... she saw A approaching.... smiling.... she smilled back.... hey what have you got.... this very moment.... she regained everything that was lost.... the vigour was back the spright was back and shining on her face.... (wonder how weakest of women jump on the very mention of shopping).
The show started.... a floral pants... big flowers printed on.... the maron top to go wid it.... and a burst of laughter from A.... she is puzzled whats wrong.... she has always worn these big flowers.... and these pants look beautiful.... but A has different ideas... “ my dear lady” A continues... “ you are short and its time you realise that big flowers dont suit you... besides that dont go wid you image and age... you look younger and funnier in those “ .... “oh i dont care” she replies...”i like those and thats it....” both smile in unison... know that they cannot change each other....

She climbs the bus with difficulties... the weather and pollen had been at their worst and she had to travel so suddenly.... no reservation anywhere... so the bus....
“Let’s take it.... this is also a challenge”... she tells herself and starts...
All eyes on her as she boards with difficulty... slowly .... try to hide her weak state and short breathes.... some 52 pairs of eyes scrutinize her as she make her way to the seat... first seat... reserved for ladies... and soon she sat she realised she is the only female on board.... and so she realised all on board are looking at every small part of her body as if they havent seen a female before... and also that she becomes a lesser human the moment she is recognised as woman... she become suddenly very conscious of what she wore....
And what she wore.... her floral pants... (They are so comfortable... she had to wear them)...

She covered herself with another layer of shawl to be sure her curves are fully covered and rescued from the winds that are making her wheeze.... she breathes with great difficulties... and soon forgets about.... the sea of eyes looking at her .... the alcohol soaked air.... the smell of gutakha, which works less as mouth freshner and more as intoxicator to the person having it and which irritates her with its strong smell... she draws in herself the wheater, the rattle of the bus, the chill in the air, all make her draw in herself and be away from the journey the destination and the surround....

She caugh now and then to reassure that she lives.... the bus keeps running on the ghats of this Gondwana terrain sometimes she seem to run fine and some other time she seem to digress....
The buswalas.... keep yelling... Jagadalpur.... Jagadalpur.... Jagadalpur.... she keeps reminding them it is kondagaon she wish to go so tell her when it comes.... they dont even seem to hear her... or simply pretend that they dont.... she gives up... her breathing gets heavier.... she cant talk more... not a word... she sinks in to the shawl again... deep.... “am i sleeping or ... i am awake... half asleep she.... knows she cant sleep.... she pulls out a pill from her bag... and with this pull a sweet aroma fills the environment.... she realises that the essential oil that her father blended for her to cure her Asthama.... she takes a whiff... sniffs it in... the oil in the form of vapor gets in to the lung covers a part of it.... reduces the swell and she is relieved for a second....temporary relief....

She puts the pill in to her ... and look for a greater comfort... nothing comes easy.... she starts to shake.... Ahh! The side effect.... nothing comes without a pricetag.... she smiles at herself and the situation she had put herself in... Trembling she sits on her seat trying not to show anyone the situation she was in.... no one should know... this night shall pass and i will be alive to face the great responsibility i took .... There are so many who wait for me... i shall live...

The bus sways suddenly and stops .... the naxalite naka they say.... everyone is asked to get out.... she slowly rose... covered herself again.... tighten the shawl around and gets down.... now everyone can see her.... even those who didn’t realize earlier that there is a lady traveling with them one such person was sitting just behind her... the naxal asks her to stand aloof... as he doesn’t wish to bother her.... he says aloud naxals have respect for women... he smiles she is too weak to smile at this moment.... the full moon night so beautiful goes hazy in her eyes... she shakes more visibly and the asthelene is at work... the chill in the air is at its best.... and she stood aloof of the mob of men.... they all do what the naxal says... the guy in his early twenties is commanding a big mob of around 50 men.... Men she laughs in her mind....

After the procedure is complete they were ask to board the bus again and the bus rattles again to the winding path that shines in this beautiful full moon night.... she despairs how she isn’t able to appreciate or react on anything that’s happening around her... Ahh! This isn’t me... I don’t wish to be this... she cries... but cries cant fight with the shivers that she is experiencing... she sits still and try to harmonies her breath.... slow ... and deep.... soon the medicine puts her to a state of half sleep state and she becomes unconscious of her state... at least for sometime....

In her dreams she feels something crawling on her body.... no not on the entire body... but something like trying to start crawling.... what is it.... she tries to identify.... (even in her dream she is inquisitive and aware) the creature that crawls feels familiar... how she isn’t able to see the creature.... only can feel it on her body .... oh it is on one of my side and it is starting to crawl from behind.... its long with many legs... her breath becomes shorter and shorter as she tries to look .... almost out of breath she is awakes suddenly.... and figure there is actually something which has crawled from behind to her breast and now is trying to locate her nipple.... she jumps... that which crawled was a hand of the person sitting on the seat just behind hers.... as she jumps and stands looking at the person behind..... she sees everyone on board in deep sleep.... including the person whose hand she found crawling over her body....

Filled with disgust.... she knew half of them are pretending it and at least 10-15 were witnessing the crime .... she has no evidence of.... something moves in her she feels like crying at high pitch .... but no she isn’t so feeble... she cant be... this isn’t her to step back at the time of action she stand on her seat and bends backwards to reach the guy on seat behind hers.... pulls him with his hair..... looks for his hand and twists his wrists with whatever force she could.... the guys starts yelling .... shouting.... for help.... some other also shout at her.... she pays no attention keeps beating him till she could and sits calmly after she is done .... as if nothing happens...
The mob follows her ... all shut their eyes to what happened.... she smiles in her mind.... now the guy on the seat behind hers sits shivering for the rest of the night....
A night which becomes a bright and shiny day as the bus approaches Kondagaon....
.... and she feels herself again in her floral print pants....

Thursday, October 16, 2008

a dark grey


They say they look perfect together...
two of a kind hand in hand...
nobody asked her if she felt perfect with him
or if he saw her as perfect ....
he kept on saying he is perfect with or without her,
she didnt care if he isn’t perfect

she never believed in idea of perfection...
she would wish to be admired as anybody would
she did all the admiration and got none
assumed all admiration from him are silent
and accepted all those silent moments as admiration....
believed he knew only good of her....

he knew he is great cause she said so
he knew he could do great cause so the setting was
he knew he is admirable cause that’s the only way he knew
he knew she could be perfect... if only
she could dance like H.... laugh like A
walk like N and be a bit more professional like V

and thus spilled the beans...
he wouldnt know whats wrong...
she would never tell him
but for her he is long gone
cause she would ever dance, laugh,
walk, talk or be professional like anybody else but herself...

so she walks out alone... as herself...
even though its dark... as dark as the darkest grey
and him left behind mimicking endless greys
in illusion of white against a darker grey
cause ther are no whites or black
but endless shades of grey...

stumbled....

I found myself starring at her gait.... aimlessly without any recollection or cognition of what I was looking at and what she meant to be.... is she the same.... as she approached me....the thought lingered till it found pronunciation.... a profound one mixed with disapproval of what I was looking at..... But something told me she was the same....
The distinct smile.... distinctively different curl of those lips now disfigured still made a gesture which was so unique... yes she was the same girl i am acquainted with for over 5 months now....she who took me somewhere called her home,... treat me with happiness and laughter... almost out of the blue...and the blue faded with each passing day between us....
Is she the same her... whom I called this morning or it was her who called me... and I didn’t even realized what’s wrong... all I could get was...she wasn’t well....and she wish to see me urgently and immediately... I left home in hurry... dressed most peculiarly as i always do I looked out of place in the setting... the beggar joker persona I was making wasn’t apt to meet someone in pain... she told me there was a fight and also that she is hurt... but then it never occurred to me that the hurt is physical as well as much it was emotional....
And it was not the usual emotional disturb that a lady faces when center of her universe starts moving towards some other circle and she tries hard to bring it back to the center she assumes her own.... it was beyond the limit of her trying to bring the center back and had something to do with redefining the circle itself...
And did I get the hint earlier.... did I ever listen to the undertones of seemingly endless sessions of jokes and laughter... for reasons and for irrationality both... and didn’t we enjoy it all with all gusto... I wouldn’t take the credit away from her.... yes she was the one who made it happened... but question remains ... didn’t I realize this coming before....
Maybe when... she first came downstairs and peeped from far.... smiling and waving.... or when she first stood at the side of my drawing board looking at what I made and making intelligent remarks... even when she was cracking joke.... did I see it coming.... when she put that home up piece by piece.... every curtain... every object.... even every sunray approaching her home spelled her name.... did I see it coming when I saw a hanuman idol in the bedroom... and the careless remark that “icon are what we made of them ... so it doesn’t matter whether its hanuman or cupid which is placed there....” did I see it coming...
How could I not... see her crying through her jokes... yelling for help through her remarks and looking for my hand through her laughter.... wasn’t I also equally responsible for what I saw this morning... wasn’t I was involved in what happened last night... however distantly...

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

diurnation still


In her diurnation and sleep walk, somniloquied the name...how he tickled her existence... less she knew of herself till ....
as his lanugos brush her... and slowly he covers her as cloud.... and it poured...The shy in her lost the meaning when the day broke while she felt aroused in darkness of night.... and she rose up to a surcingle intact.

Monday, September 29, 2008

one full year


A plane ticket to and fro...
A bus ticket one way...

Some restaurant bills...
Some dried petals... so pink

A hall ticket of examination
An entry pass to corporate

A scrutiny of my handbag
An inspection of mobile messages

One evening on the sea shore
One night full of festive noise

The smell of the September sun
The rush of receding monsoon

Innumerable 29th Septembers and 14th Octobers
One 23rd....

A suit length of class
A suitcase full of fresh finds

The rhythm of drumming
The sound of silence

An arm length clasp by the window
Before a departure

A brief shock of surprise
Of a meeting

A sandwich crisp and light
A decision that’s right

A mouthful of chocolate
A scoop of banana ice-cream

One whole year of togetherness
One whole year of dreams ... fancies and romance...

Thursday, September 18, 2008

wrapped


he trembles in the morning
when sun light…
plays with the innocent dream
of the quilt that surrounds him
the quilt says no
to the idea of leaving him ever
while sun says
now is the time
the nonconformist of the quilt
bends before
the dictator called The Sun
the naïve lover in her makes way
to the ruler called the day
so it leaves him for sometime
only to be one with him again
in nothingness of night
which becomes memorable
for the togetherness
where night plays…
the perfect host… and cradle
of the dream so innocent…

Monday, September 15, 2008

Stay over


He reached capital with his heart full of emotions and mind full of passion, a small town guy in his mid twenties knows best in what he is trained in… confident of education, conscious of his personal state… he could be accepted as most charming of them all standing at the registration counter to get registered for the conference… for no doubt he was also the most hesitant of them all… his palms were sweating and voice was low… he could find none to talk to and share his thoughts… so he stood alone… for long… in- fact all along… till … till she approached him…

She was a bright new theorist known for her strong head and revolutionary behavior… her admirers though were more interested in the sway of her hips while she moves than the storm of thoughts that she generated every now and then… her deep eyes were more the matter of the talks in the elite circle than the depth of her knowledge… it irritated her… but she knew there isn’t any wayout… she wasn’t exceptionally good looking but in the top naught institute there were few ladies enrolled out of them most were married … she was good to look at, bright in studies and on top of it available … available for any healthy discussion so she meant … available to be roped in by lavicious crowd they understood…

She knew it all and always alert on this… he had never seen it … never knew such things exist… and certainly never done it…

She saw him troubled with his sweating palm, lock of hair that was refusing to be tucked aside, grayness of the suit which looked out of place in the jet black crowd… he felt terrible… she could figure that out even from a distance… and this trouble in him actually insinuated her to reach out to him before he gets lost in the crowd so malicious…

He didn’t see her at once… he was too busy with himself to look at anyone…let alone be ladies… ladies… he is running away from… ladies who always admired him but never consoled him… ladies who gave him all the troubles and no solace… and yes he was running away from lot many things… including ladies… his academic interests pulled him from his small town to the capital and he thought this should be the only extent of his endeavor in the city… at least he hoped so…

As the lectures proceeded he got more and more comfortable in the setup… at the end of the day the hesitant in him had gone and the sharp observer , keen thinker was all over the place… his ideas were not to show off , so he stood out of the pseudo intellectual crowd that surround him.

They met at the cocktail dinner that followed… he remembered her lecture well and his own fine tuning of such made her marvel at many point… she figured the natural small town hesitation when he picked a juice over a cocktail and offered help… he saw her gulping wine and thought ... distance should be preffered… but he could not run away from her as she approached him towards the end of the party…

“Hey! Hey you … are you running away from me…”

“Nah! No.. not me… was just leaving…”

“Where to?”

“To the hostel I am staying at… they have provided accommodation for students… he smiles”

“Oh! Are you a student? Don’t kid me… I thought you must be staying at some hotel or at least in faculty guest house…”

“No lady, I am no faculty… I am still to get the degree…”

“So the hostel you are staying at… do they mind if I stay over…”

“Stay over… as in? Where?”

“At your room… see I am a bit tipsy and driver is long gone… I cant drive back home its better I stay at your place…”

The guy… goes pale… “I don’t know… cant say… as in…” humanity sake he would have helped her… but she is no human, she is a woman…

He knew when she says she will stay with him means he has no escape… oh yes! He knows the kind… a typical dictator…

While he contemplates and reiterates the whole situation a number of times… the wild in him sees the chance … he pushes all such thoughts aside and still they come back to him…

The lady seems unaware of this and starts walking… hey… come walk me to your hostel… and he walks with her silently…

They walk across the campus on lonely trails leading to the hostel… they don’t talk… she seems deep in her own thoughts as he fights with his wild self all along…

they reach the room …she sees a tidy room with papers on the table… on one side blank on another used… he was making notes before leaving for conference… the nicely sharpened pencils were sitting in a bunch at one corner of the table… she bows and picks the notes… starts reading….

He looks at her hesitantly... Shyly... Then makes the bed while she continue reading… he lies on the bed as she sits on the chair while still reading… he waits eagerly as he sees her picking the unused paper and starting to write… he keeps staring … gazing , as if looking at his prey… his catch for the day… she writes as he waits…

He gets up with strong ache in the whole body… what was I doing last night… he looks around she isn’t around… he reaches to the table… and there she is… a note that reads… “Thanks for the help… I got a new topic and my new paper is ready to publish today…”

The guy stood amazed whether to thank God or curse himself… or lodge a complaint of intellectual property right… but how would he justify his doing of last night…

eyes dont lie


Nesting comfortable in the warm clasp of the long strong arms she lifts her chin to see the effect and result of what she did just now… a mischievous smile found its place on her comforted face immediately… countering which was equally brilliant smile on him… a more content figure than her… a more at peace, expression than her.. comforts her even more…

She kept on looking at his deep eyes at this moment and till eternity, the eyes say more than the smile she just saw… those tranquil eyes with droopy lashes diminishing it in to a mare stroke of brush on his so Greek god like face… she looks deep in to then tracing every movement, getting doped in the mystical liquidity of those two glasses of divine wine…

A sudden shock comes her way as she was still amused with the effect of her doings… she was hit badly by the revelation … and those told her so boldly…eyes don’t lie…oh! So that was not the smile of fulfillment … or a great experience… how foolish she could get… playing with her own emotions she almost forgot the fact… her existence always try to defy…

That he has visited this before… been there done that… it is just a role play another time another place with another co actor…
She wonders if the pink of unkissed and the crimson of just released were also fake…

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Yet Again...


Unenumerated desires
Found expressions

The imprisoned fluttered
For years

Yearn.. yearn…
And strive … yeh!... a lascivious strive

Blurbs… blurbs… booo
And running from them

Woops it swaps…
Snips it snaps…

Yet again…
Yet again…

Sunday, August 31, 2008

fuchsia I seek


O you fuchsia of my life
I come to you
When I need a hide
U r the one I find…
For me the one impetuous
For me the one rampart
An inciter . . . your admonition I seek
To take refuge…
Cover me fuchsia, color me fuchsia
So there wont me no two to identify
From yes to no…
From white to black
From sorrow to happiness
All shall fall one
the emotion fuchsia and the existence fuchsia

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Still Do Nothing


They have met her before… they have seen her many times … the interest she evoked every time she passed isn’t so surprising, as the surprises became the routine. But today was special … a reappearance in the same gathering was not only unexpected but also strange as much as her elope. As if she ceased to exist.
Some say “she found love”, some say “she found wine”, some still describe solitude as her companion.
For all it was news that she tied the knot… it went uncelebrated… the mystery ended so her existence for many … and soon she was forgotten…

It was unlike her to get carried away by the cheesy vocabulary and lucid promises… but she took a chance when she got the invite… the friend was dear … so she broke her promise of seclusion… of not to judge and so not to encounter …The crowd… gulping wine and spewing words both without taste.

Here she is the head turner flanked by a handsome to make the composition prettier. All eyes to them. “She is the same” someone remarked… “Yeh! Just got fuller and more chiseled… He has done a good work”… someone else added as they chuckle in unison.

The eyes turn envious, puzzled, admiring, respectful, judgmental with every move of the couple… stuck to each other …. They seem complete… two flavors opposite yet complimenting each other… each gets shinier in the presence of other…

And yet there is something still so intriguing about them that leaves all amazed and curious… to know more every time they get a bit of information. She meets all as if saying adieu to her most celebrated aloofness… now someone is constantly with her even in her aloofness…

Two eyes met and a sudden shrug of remembrance traveled through the sleepiest nerve of both brains… smiles follow unknowingly… and then the shy in her took over the bold beauty… for a second … and next she is back to herself… looking straight to those eyes so wise… the age hasn’t stolen the charm from them… 5 years and he is still the same…

He looked affectionately and seemed content as though “she” finding a mate is “his” achievement. Aah she found a right match what a pretty picture… blessing innumerous break all stop gates and even raze the banks… the eyes brim and droplets roll down…
He could only utter “bless you” and took refuge in the crowd … the emotions unknown flash in his mind… he knows no relation to her still the heart says “bless you”.

Yet! The uneasy air says something different… he looks back to the eyes … still looking at him and the cause of strangeness struck him hard… the lady looking at him with respect and guy … the picture shook him off… he looked back to the lady…

She comes back to her senses as the picture of him goes blur… “why is this picture blur?”... She questions herself… “He hasn’t gone far” and the droplets roll and explain the reason… she smiles at her own stupidity… a smirked face looks at her… and she reciprocates the emotions… while she still smiling the thought struck her hard … did he read it… does he know now… the secrete veiled so well… or may be not so well… she wish to rush to him and tell him all… she would tell the truth as she always do…

She searched for him … in rush… and then yelled (in her mind) … “Yes! You are right” … “I still do nothing”… she found him sitting at the same old spot… and looked deeply in his eyes…
The demeanor on the face said it all… this time… no question needed… and nothing unanswered.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Do nothing


She usually doesn’t accept such invitations… parties where she knows none… and have to wonder and wander all by herself… but she took this one for two reasons … first it was from a dear friend … second she decided to work around her tendencies of not being comfortable in strange settings …. So here she is promising herself a great evening of high spirits and there it is all in abundance ….

Smiles … smiles all around… her attire match her mood her image says she’s arrived… she amuses herself with the chitter -chatters around… long grown traces flow as she moves… she touches them… strand by strand… winds and unwinds around her fingers… while she sips the delicious Portuguese country wine with all due admiration… in the crowd… giggling, cherishing the food and wine… loving and being loved…. All eyes of admiration surround her…

the jaipuri zigzag of her wrapped around umbrella skirt makes a catchy, twirling image every time she turns and hops her way through all all… or even walk a few steps… yet her aloofness is as exquisite as her yello silk body hugging top … content yet enuring, enhancing every beautiful curv of her….
She traces the eyes following her moves….. admiring her inch by inch in the dimness of the yellow mood lights….

She wouldn’t talk much… and so remains unapproachable ….. the discussion somehow pulled her from her aloofness as they started talking about the design of food and desiogn of interiors… she obliged everyone with her remarks…the conversation became more academic than romantic with her remarks… and yet again as she concludes all would try forcing it to another tangent… distant from her… thinking that romance is not quite her area of indulgence… the discussion reaches to mood lights… most in mood… ummhs and aahs… replaces the usual murmur and all ears turn to her…. What would she say….
She who spells single hood with her existence… and define it strongly…eh the single…

“U don’t need lights to be in the mood” she giggles her way out…and all admirations follow… one pair of eyes follow her for an answer..

“Romantic comment”… “I am impressed” a man in his 60ies appraises her
Smiles flash as she turns to him…

“So, what is this pretty romantic girl doing here, on this lovely evening… where she indulges in academic conversations and avoid the funny ones… when she could well be with her mate in wildest mood”

She is amazed he is presumingly the wisest person in the whole gathering… did he read something in her eyes… does he know something already… she just flashes a smile

“M proving my metal… besides I don’t have a mate as yet”

“Don’t tell me u don’t have a boyfriend… or even a girlfriend…”

“I am single and straight” she smiles

“I can’t believe this … how a person like you could be single”

“At her will”

“Oh! So you mate at will”

“I haven’t mated yet… haven’t found anyone yet”

“Miss free willed please don’t take me wrong…. But I am puzzled”

She excuses herself from the provocations and gets refuse in a corner .

The man still puzzled he had never seen a woman so graceful, learned, and tasteful, full of life and wit … in her late twenties. Luring numerous at the wimp of her hair… bee-ed and buzzed at every turn of her pretty head… and yet she remains single… and unmated… the lady seemed to be a riddle…

Remote from the buzzing crowd she eases herself in to a lovely couch and ponders over the conversation… she could see him figuring where she sits and approaching her fast. Am I so interguing? She question herself … anything wrong with me?

He stood in front of her … there isn’t any escape

Forgive me lady for chasing you like this… but my question remains… though I don’t believe what you told me earlier but still… if I believe u completely I have this question… if all that is true… what does this lady do when she feels sexy?

The words reach her as warm candle wax… the question she never faced and wasn’t prepared to face…

Needless to say you are sexy all the time but I am talking of those moments when you yourself feel sensuous… what do you do at such moments?

She laughs aloud at the nothingness of this question… terminating it in to a beautiful chuckled dimple says with the smile… ‘I do nothing” … she looks straight in to those amazed wide eyes gaging her reply and repeats “I do nothing”…

Saturday, July 26, 2008

freedom... liberation

He always had problem of space in the relationship ….

She had always been suspicious of whether he was back to the old forgotten days…

he was pissed and asked for freedom…

she had only one question for him “If I free u from myself would u b liberated?”

Friday, July 25, 2008

on my knees


After playing the wrong one for last two days (I wonder how I am always the wrong one) and feeling terribly guilty about it…. This evening came to Mumbai which awaits it with all its washed streets , lush sappy greens and a tinge of cold wave similar to what I used to experience in Bangalore…. Aah! My days of solitude and evenings of loneliness…

I was drifted back in time as if on a time machine …. A year back when I decided to end all that…. My romance with myself… the indulgence untouched… to transform in to the intense feeling… the feeling which was to transform me to someone I didn’t even remotely resembled those days… on a single call…

This cannot be defined…. The words the rhymes … nah none can cover a bit of what I felt for him and for myself at that moment when he said…. “Lady, I am on my knees”

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Unaccounted delight


It was a cool happy morning bathed in October sun… every ray nourishing the sap green of the atmosphere the very first gerberas in bright pink were swaying in the mild zephyr that breezed now and then…



she was pleased with what she made and what they did last evening… when it poured and he offered to drop her home… the discussions remained incomplete as the electricity decided to shun off as they went on discussing the nitty critty of what she made and she stopped abruptly… a whiff of despair… of an incomplete conversation… she showed her displeased face… as the rain god played with the emotion of both the sky (with lightning) and earth (with rain) …. Why cant they all stop at once or the electricity stop playing game… but then… because of rain he offered to drop… and amused her in many ways…



a disconnect came in between as she was brought back from admiring the doped morning to resume the incomplete discussion of last night… as they discussed he pointed every shortcoming of what she made and she defended in vain… his face kept turning sterner with every negative comment he made… her face turned more pale with every vain defense she attempted… they settled for something they both agreed and she returned to work again…
This evening too it rained badly but he didn’t offer to drop…


as he drove swiftly in the pouring rain... she understands it well... sure there aren’t any unaccounted delights..

Friday, July 18, 2008

to him called "The teacher"

It was long due to post this piece about a person influenced my academic life and blessed me by being around… so here goes the salute to my teacher I hated most at one point in time and loved most at another for different reasons but both emotions had been so strong that I didnt realise the swing in them was so drastic and immense… only when i started writing it occured to me ...here are two stories from the lot of experiences which defined my relation with him….

FIRST: I was a naive kid who just hopped in to the architecture class and was proud of her skills (sketching rendering) in the very first year... I happened to do my first visual arts assignment very fast and was the first to make a model of the city square to commemorate the 50th year of independence. .. A for a change was pleased with what I made and early execution so he called the HOD to see what ever i made... i was pleased with myself and with what I made... He came ... saw and then called the whole class... he didn’t say a word in praise (neither did A) so I was brought back from a state of walking in the air to stand still and watchful... (I wasn’t pleased... being a pampered kid) ... as the whole class gathered he started narrating a story but before that he asked a question... how many of us actually and truly wished to be an architect... I guess only three hand rose and mine was one of them... he didn’t bother to wait for the answer though and started telling a story...“in this very first assignment you all did what is asked from you its a forced situation... but it is necessary.. . I would like to equate this situation with the situation of Meera bai when she first got the small idol of Krishna... ..and was asked to worship him daily... she did what was asked from her.... not more neither less... just what was asked from her.... slowly and surely as she grew up... this practice became part of her... the idol became part of her as much as she fell in love with him.... in sleep and awake... in a bright day or in the nothingness of night she could think only of Krishna... and at the end she could achieve him... became one with him... i wish you all achieve architecture in same way... now what seem to you a forced job may one day become your life and more... you may not understand the intensity with which the architectural practice is done but when it will come to you ... may you all do it with as much vigor and passion asMeera loved Krishna..."I was shocked... I had only heard from father that this guy is a great personality but it never occurred to me how great a man be to love his profession as much as Meera loved Krishna... my respect to him found its root deep in my heart that day... and the roots remain intact till date...

SECOND: I was to lead a NASA project while my batch was suppose to take responsibility of the participation. .. I was ready to work under any of my batch mates and on any project as I was the loner that time to and was away from group politics.... He was to choose the leader... I knew its me.... but my irregular attendance.. . Calling sick now and then (I was asthmatic those days and rarely used to attend classes) and bunking class for no apparent reason... and erratic behavior (I was never consistent) forced him to choose a leader from our junior batch.... I was for all good reason hurt cause I knew... I will have to work as much as i was supposed to but without a tag of leader.... he knew m hurt... but he didn’t react... the work started proceeding thanks to my good relation with juniors I could work in harmony under their leadership.. . (I had to cause I was suppose to be most inclined towards history of architecture and documentation came easy to me)... but not all was going well... I had my non agreement also... and as all know I was most vocal about them... he happened to pass by that very moment when I was pointing out the disagreement. .. while most others wanted to ignore it I wished to resolve it then and there... so that greater loss could be avoided... I was forceful and was able to convince all to resolve it then.... he entered that very moment... I was shocked to find him around.... he turned to me.... and said...." N naitritva karo netagiri nahin" I was white as the whitest willow... as the whole stock of blood is out of my body .... and was amazed cause I thought I was right... then he added " how much ever you were right.... you sounded very wrong.... forcing people to work according to you isn’t leadership.. . Its dictatorship. ... and the leader in you dies the moment you do that" I got back to may senses... I asked for the vote and people disagreed to what I was saying... we worked accordingly. ..

The two lessons are the greatest lessons of my life... as much as I learned architecture from him I learned humanity and spirituality from him.... he is one of the best teachers I ever had…

Thursday, July 10, 2008

u said u will call

Where
does she has a number….
And she knew u wont…
Cause u never….
And if at all where
At desk
When she's not there..
At appu’s but she's not wid her
My dear …
she's sick and will be at home…
The place remains
Meaning disappear…

just when you cut the call she was to tell the fever has gone up and she would be at home... and now she wonders while she waits for the call... why r u so cold... and also "will you ever be ........."

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

lock-ed


Pulled the boat in the lake
Devoid of choice
On the sail … yet un-sailed

Peeped the peppy window
By the wall so blue
A scene… so unseen

A head turned… known/unknown
Jerked to pain
Storms the mane… entangled it leaves

Shed all what green
Grey in the mist
Decay they read … death it seem

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

roll to revolve... or to evolve


Some drops just roll down
The slippery cheesy cheeks help them
Realize their innate nature
Tacit, built in, synonym of existence
So they roll… cause they know nothing..
Else then rolling down….


As soon as the eyes brim
They start their journey
Brisk, swift… as if eager to meet the kerchief
Oblivious of the fact
That eyes tried hard to hold them back
That they exhibit a bundle of emotions..
Hidden so well… till yet…
That none cares for their journey or the end

And then he laughs …. On this stupidity
Of them…. Or her

Monday, June 30, 2008

concocts called cocktail


While she concocts her bundle of excuses…. A web of lies around her and him being so silent letting his lady being trapped in lies webbed too well by her… useless details constructed meticulously veining around the truth are lies… rooting deeply in the very presence of the present is the past unhappened…. So dark… she looks for light… and there isn’t any…. Black is to prevail… till date… In being and nothingness… lies are to be there…. Don’t tickle me where I am weak… cause I know even the tickles are fake…

She stopped reacting cause the rationality needs reason and reasoning search for intellect … in her quest for real him even the reality seems dazzled by the lies told to tickle her…. Is this funny?… can rational reasons be funny? Can rationality be loved? Can love be rational? If so where should be the emotional intelligence placed?

Why is it when love tickles rationality gives way to lies to precede her …. To even guide her sometime… and thus she wins over his lady with her bundle of lies….

I wish some people just cease to exist …. At least in my vicinity….

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

dust peck story 2


Sun rises, to make her realize…
Her true potential
The gold in her comes out
With every touch of the sun
While she is alight
In the thin air
Handling her swiftly, lovingly

In two minds she flushes
And the gold turns red
Which one to choose
Of all the suitors..
The sun which turns her gold
With every touch
The air which make her fly
With every stroke
Or the earth which awaits and longs
Restlessly, eagerly… for the unite

Just then as if knowing her well

A gypsy cloud comes rushing
The turbulence is visible
Sun’s is devoid the gleam
Veiled, mellowed and
Gold turns dark…
Thunderbolts threatens the air
So feeble … rushes here and there for life
Stormy winds they say… virile they say
Scared winds… she knows..

The cloud looks at the dust peck so lovely
And he pours… the stocks of emotions
The fluid of passion…
Washed with desires… she looses herself
To find her beloved

They reach the earth together
The lucid harmony flows
On earth which knows
The nobility of dust peck
Can only find definition in rains
They wash the earth together
As she flows with her beloved
As river
And resides with him
In ocean…

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

first rain-3


It is very difficult to call any rain first rain in Bangalore…. Rains had always been very kind to this beautiful city. They come every evening to wash her and make her new before the night comes and plays its game with her… with innocence in the air and warmth in her streets this city gave me shelter and gave earth to my feet which didn’t know how is it to stand (knew only to walk on air and race with wind).
She came to me in many forms … as my first job… as my first shelter outside home … the loner’s walk and friends innumerable… my first achievement and my first mess-up… everything was with her… finding definition in different forms… many memories still find the link to her…
Many incidences which shaped me are cause of her… and I remember my first rain with her… this first rain also has another sweet person who shared her shelter with me (and what makes her special is that we share our birthdays too) and I felt home in this city with her for the first time…
S and me started staying together by March and surprisingly our food habits and cleanliness criterion matched for a happy living… I didn’t know her much from our earlier encounters neither did her… slowly we found and discovered each other in a relation which later to be called friendship… a bond we shared without realizing…
It was the April when we had the first trouble with the landlord and we planned to move… I would give the sole credit to S for finding us a house on the terrace in posh locality of RT Nagar…. What I did was suggesting the craziest way we would take our saman to the new place (and she agreed at the word go) a simple task which we made hilarious for a singular reason that it had us in it…(a big story with naughty tidbits but not here)…
We enjoyed the airy beautiful…house of ours… loved everything about it….it was the month of May the spring was bowing goodbyes and winds suggested rains are not far away…. We didn’t know how it is to be in Bangalore when it rains…. We the native of arid and composite climate lands never realized how it is to be soaked in seconds and feel it for the whole day…
the romanticism was written on the whole sky when we stepped out of the house to visit some place on Bellary road… so much so that the mood forced us to walk on our way back… Aah! The wind so wild greeted us… entering in to our clothes which flew… the skirt which went with her and the brown corduroy jackate which knew nothing about the rain… we laughed (as we always do) while we chatted.. Walking briskly… fast… fast… I yelled… as if to match the wind… we saw a board suggesting “artifacts sold here” and winked to each other… and the laughter that followed… none could ever miss the instantaneous rush of laughter just after we realize our thoughts are so much in tandem…
All eyes were at us as we entered the lobby of a well designed craft (crafted pieces from Andhra but not Lepakshi for sure) store.
Just when we entered the store slowly… cautious of the attention … a little shy hiding the ever laughing spirit in us… she came with all its vigor… she rushed and splashed the whole stock of water she had for the season… she wouldn’t stop… the stop gates are now open and the rush of desire in her mood said she wont stop… she had to meet another beauty the earth of Bangalore.. after it soaks and damps the air of Bangalore..
“Madam! you are stuck” said the shopkeeper… I didn’t realize at once whether he is talking about me getting stuck till the rain stop or me not able to take my eyes off a very expensive wallet embroidered finely by the karigars of Hyderabad… I smiled… checked my pocket… not enough money… humm… S bought some pieces for her wedding and was pleased… but what about rains they won’t stop….
She with her flooding ways of washing Bellary road wooed me to come to her… her sways mesmerized all and I was nobody to ignore the temptation soaked air…the forced encounter of us happened as I hopped out of the shop alarming everyone including S… she said let it mellow down… I knew if it is the same rain I heard of… she is not going to mellow down either she would be there or she would cease to exist… there isn’t any way between… I relate to her more than anything… so much like me… and so S joined… she could also not hold herself… (they say birthdates matter) … the rain washed us along with her dearest friend Bangalore… we performed our first rain dance together on this day on the high way called Bellary road to convey our regards to the dearest Bangalore…
This first rain bonded me to Bangalore as it bonded me with S… both the bonds are for life. I still feel the wetness and aroma of this first rain in my heart… the taste of those raindrops… the memories of the cold wave traveling through my drenched body with each encounter of even the slowest stroke of wind still gives me goose pimples… this first rain changed my life as it added the first dash of romance in my life… the very romantic me strolled her toddler steps on the Bellary road of Bangalore… the never ending romance with self in the company of Bangalore’s air, earth and S

Friday, June 13, 2008

Solitude sought… togetherness found


“a very social human being who also celebrates loneliness sometimes” that was what one of her friends had to say about her… to describe her… she loves socializing so solitude comes to her rarely… still as any other wanderer in the quest of self she is a loner away from worldly tantrum…
Holding on to opposite strings she contemplates the meaning of solitude in her … with her … and presses her mind and a jubilant picture of solitude comes to her….and so the words flow out…

“Whenever I come across solitude…
I wish I am a duct peck…
That lonely drift that it takes
Isn’t it lovely….

Yeh! Says the nod…

Dependent only on…
The whims of itself…
And push from air
See even the dust peck is not alone
Air harbors it and houses it

Another nod comes across…

Till it reaches…
To earth to be one…
With its eternal companion
Its part of itself…
And still different…

The nod is missing cause the person who nodded exists no more… cause at this point storyteller and listener are one… and there wouldn’t be any solitude she was speaking about… cause not even the dust peck is alone….

Thursday, June 12, 2008

appy budday.... in past and in future

to two of my dearest buddies...
belated to one of them... in advance to another....
love you both wish I could tell you this more often....

donno why sometime till the moment you understand the intensity of emotion the moment is gone... yet there are events like such when i recall how time bonded us so well...

cheers to all those days and nights spend in thinking to change the world... only to know that some of our closest people pity us this day.... i bless those as well... cause they dont know whom they are pitying on...

i wonder when we sit together again somewhere in the valley of tomorrow... if we would be able to change everybody's perception about us... as individual and as group...

long live us to do it one day.... individually yet together...

Thursday, June 5, 2008

smirked emotions


A step when it’s about dawn
On the grass dew crowned
Electrifying shock of cool wave
Through the bare feet…
Up till the auricle

A blow of strong wind
On my dripping wet face
In the hot hot summer
Soothing yet burning
The edges of dundrearies

An orange-crimson of sky
And gold of the sea
Turning purple of night
For a while a mesmerized look
Another it is to go

A trail of footprints just two
In tandem and out of rhythm
Shallow marks to vanish
Or the wave so hungry
Only footmarks it feeds

A series of blops on my head
Of the rain called naïve
Of innocent emotions
And naughty delight
Of a drenched night

A lick on the nape so bare
When it’s icy cold
In conditioned environment
A shrug of arousal
Running in nerves, getting on to them

All could be you
To define by effects
On me though momentary
Nah its not
They are just part of you

Monday, May 26, 2008

missing home

for I will never be able to go for a summer vacation to a place called home... for no one understands that every evening I go back to is also a home but it isn’t the same...

home i miss u... so much

Friday, May 23, 2008

mom's gulmohar tree


The lady with dark toned skin and with darker tresses pleases all every time she smiled her billion dolor smile.
A person in her is an achiever in disguise … a thinker never got the center stage (never aspired for a center stage). Her philosophies remained locked within the four walls of her home and to the tightest circle of her friend… which she made slowly and steadily joining bit by bit….
She stands apart from the mob of so called self proclaimed pseudo intellectuals and delivers the unique single liners as and when it’s needed the most.
She would never go ga ga about what she says or thinks about the issue(s) but when she speaks people listen to her.
Her great intellect leave people mesmerized and they come back again and again for all gyan and advice (I have never seen her giving useless one)
I could never understand how she holds so many strings of her life tight intact and working all the time. No kid could find a mother who keeps them away from the tantrums of worldly life where you have to look good, perform well all the time, be proud about the birth
My admiration for her goes for the way she raised her kids
She never put in there head that they look good or they need to look good.
She never put in there head that they performed good or bad in studies, or need to perform well in studies.
She never put in there head that they should be proud about their birth and cast
Instead…
She asked them only one thing… be good
And this be good was open to interpretations
Each one of her child took his own meaning of being good and found their niche
I always wondered if she ever aspired or desired for anything
To be someone…. to achieve something
To get something… to be presented something…
She always looked so content that I questioned her ambitions all the time
The rare glimpse of her wishful face could only be caught on the occasions
When….
A bud in her garden so meticulously maintained by her is about to blossom
The remarkable achievement of any of her children is about to be announced
The crazy monsoon cloud is about to pour
I have never seen her making demands for anything… asking for anything… nagging isn’t her trait
Such mellowed lady had only one exception to her characteristic compromising attitude…every time she moved to a new house all she would like to know would be… “if the house has a gulmohar tree in front… or does it overlooks a gulmohar tree”
Growing up almost oblivious of this fact when I look back and remember every house we lived in had a gulmohar tree in its surround.
The symbol of romantic fantasies of Mother … the flowers manifestation passion and desire found a place in surround of every house we lived in…
A simple wish Father granted her for life…

Monday, May 19, 2008

expected agony

donno why sometimes you want your agonies to be celebrated and sometimes even happiness goes unnoticed...

expectation can turn the situation in no time... so beware... beware... of yourself...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

unruly... eeh!


Traces of emotional dundrearies.
Following the long grown tresses...
Crowning me growing reckless…
Not to be a dominion
Is it me or my tresses which refuse to be ruled...
yeh! They are unruly as they could get
And free spirited I shall always be
Not to diminish in to oblivion

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

first rain 2- a walker i am


It was one of those days I would wish my mom wake me up… as she used to before my sis happened to us…wrapped in her cotton sari in Bengali style she would spread her arm to fetch me and I would refuse, turn around and say… nah I want papa to wake me up and she would laugh… papa would join her… and say “O my child wish me to wake her up”… and I would refuse again and rush to mom… the daily drama to delay the waking up….but today was special I wanted her to do that again after a gap of almost 5 years and I also wanted to be the first one to fetch the news paper that day thinking that I must be in the list of meritorious students…(not knowing that if I had been… they would have come the last evening to interview me). I was sure I am there… so sure that I refuse to get up till Ma gets me the news paper… she pretends she forgot as if she knew everything…
She was busy so I behaved matured and got up myself… my milk was ready.. my dress was ready(the magenta and white polka dot dress… mom has excellent choice for clothes). I saw the preparation and forgot about the news paper 9i have a very short attention span. Jumped wow! Looked outside from the big windows and it was cloudy… some would think gloomy but clouds make me happy specially those gypsy ones ;) … right from my childhood.
I rushed to Ma… what’s special … she lists “kheer, poori, kachori, aaloo sag everything that you like but when you will come back; now rush and get ready it’s the results day”

Oh yes! Oh yes today I am on top of the world… I didn’t bother to look at the news paper.

I reached my school… rushed to the class teacher who was busy sorting sweets... Big laddus …. Mmmm she is Seema didi … looked the most beautiful to me with her big bindi and tant sari… she looked at me … smiled and asked “didn’t your Mom come along” I nodded “nah”. I don’t know why I never though anybody should accompany me anyways… I always went alone to school nobody ever dropped me except in some urgent circumstances, and such were very few to make any memory of them.

I kept looking at clouds for long everybody was in strange mood… for some reason I felt I am less celebrated that day… I was puzzled by the treatment…but too happy looking at clouds to understand anything… rumors all around… they tell me how only S N got a place in list and how N S (not me) overnight got her position cause she has contacts… I was too young to understand or too busy to stare at the sky and the rustling clouds… I wasn’t bothered … what I was bothered about were laddus … I kept planning how to get more and told Didi since I must have scored the best I should get more…

It was when I got my result it started to drizzle … so as soon as I got my result I put that in to a polythene bag wrapping it carefully I forgot to look at the scores … all I was thinking of was … how to keep it safe and still enjoy the rains… so as soon as I thought I am done with safe keeping I was out in the rains… came out of the school building I don’t know why there was no arrangement to send us back… or maybe I missed my rickshaw wala… so I walked out the lane of Budhapara… reached the circle all alone (or someone with me… no memory). Asked some rickshaw pullers to come to drop me… they refused as it started pouring real hard by then… I am not a person who can wait so I started walking towards my home in rain… the first rain of the season…
The message of monsoon knocking doors… the rain just before my birthday…
It hit me softly tup tup… put put… and tupuk …. Traveling through my magenta and white polka dot balloon shaped frock… terminating in to the rushing channels around my black shoes… I walked… and hopped to disturb the flow… my socks got soaked in the muddy water and I hopped… and I hopped… my way to home…
Tupuk tupk jhaaaaar…. Rush rush…. Guzzzz… water …water …everywhere… and I am on my way to home….

I walked for 5 kilometers in 2 hours of mesperising, enchanting, gurgling, blopping rain… it drentched me… through(donno how I saved the marksheet… no memory)..
I walked looking at the sky so every pot hole disturbed my walk… and I walked sometime falling on to my knees sometime bending my ankles… on every pothole…

It was one of the best walks I ever had… I loved every leaf washed in the rain that day… every scene was beautiful… every moment was new… and I loved it …

I reached home and found Pa is back… Ma changed my clothes… while I narrated every incident since morning to him including my walk in the rain… he was laughing listening to my stories … wrapped me in a Rajai to warm me … I kept on blabbering everything important and unimportant and there were celebrations …. All eating giggling merrymaking…and in all this humdrum we forgot talking about the results…. In our family no one talk about the results but events…

This first rain was important to me because this day I realized I cannot wait for anything… and for sure a bus… I would start walking instead…a walker in me showed that day… I also realized a great quality of my parents… they never looked at result but celebrated the efforts… I knew then and I know now I am blessed…

Saturday, May 10, 2008

delight after a misery

Perceptions and counters to them…
Patterns leaving scars all round
More on the most delicate dreams
When content ness now to be defined morbid
Loosing touch of all what could be so blissful

Huhh! The tangential paths all, if not one, another, every time
Escapism at its extreme not once, not twice
Endless times… life comes a full circle
Just that now he is to face and struggle
Let there be sorrow if it is to reach ecstasy

And believe me he won’t lament…

Thursday, May 8, 2008

what a week

What a week... it was or still is.... aah! I just wish.... and I wish... and I wish... it just rested a bit before taking such a turn… I was happy when i got up on Monday morning.... day went unproductive I was moody on Tuesday morning.... evening was entertaining and intoxicated... I was extremely happy on Wednesday morning... day was shining... by evening i was cornered for no reason... explaining a nonexistent situation drained me... a slip off of beautiful house added to it... I was confused on Thursday morning.... disastrous day started and grew in to a horrendous... extremely escalated events terminated in to a night which craved for solace... morning was blissful... donno how many warning would be on their way... some spy results... shook me off and then he called to confirm.... day has so much in hold... let’s see…
Friday evening and Saturday morning both were extremely pleasant and they reconfirmed my belief in life and more …

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

emotional intelligence

S-nia complimented my emotional intelligence...
I wonder if she was true...
and if I would ever be able to keep up to this compliment
Emotionally intelligent... may be I am...
aah! if only he could be told... or he knows it already
it takes a lot to be one…. That’s all I know…

tiered of expectations... still emotionally intelligent

Sunday, April 27, 2008

wiered

S called up...
It was to congratulate on wedding....he couldn’t attend
And just after congratulating advises affectionately...
Now that you are in it don’t ever cultivate fungus....
I couldn’t understand the reason of this negative tinge
Then he explained no not you but...
There had been a lot of fungus ridden things and u should keep away...
And I was shocked... does he know... and if yes ...how?

is it infectious.... m i infected

first rain 1




I was reading first rain write up of someone… and I was reminded of many that I cherish…
The first one is here…
It was a Friday I guess…. Not the first Friday I spent on that tiny 17 acre campus
Of cohesive community and enchanted wilderness
Small to accommodate all that happens in creative minds…
Some 300 put together so it used to flood….
And sabarmati used to add to the vigour of this flood…
So it was the Friday most probably….
Evening had just born to grow up to a seductive beauty
The clouds came in to garland her and make her theirs
She flushed and it poured….
I sat at BBC… near the hostel B…
With all of them and we started to…
Dance just when she said yes to those clouds
Abhi…the girl was out there first…
Nu was also there how could me sit behind
So I rushed and said yes… to the clouds
Who came for the evening and became mine…
They tied an anklet of droplets and made me sway
They beat the drum to the garba beats so I moved…
Started with tiny steps of shy sashay and
Progressed almost geometrically to vital
Forced and then passionate… rain dance…
All yelling… giggling… some just watching and chuckling…
Me not there… m transported…to clouds…
As I meet them, they put their hands around my waist
They touch me through my thick ikkat…
Which was to remain soaked long after the rain are gone
Oh this is called life… its life… and I live in that moment…
And then there are channels newly born…
Gushing… noisy flowing through my bare feet
A bare feet traveler looks at me…
Nah! He looks through me across…
To a green clad lady… love at first sight…
Esmeralda comes to me … I look drunk… she looked drunk
Do you know any STD PCO…. And I am back to reality
Oh yes! Its at the main gate…
Can you come along… I need to make a call
Oh sure! Sure… my friend… and I find a friend for life and beyond…
I meet another on the main gate dressed in yellow (he thinks it was black or red but yellow)
He smiles… is that you N I heard of you…
Didn’t know you were this bohemian… mmmm
And I know I found another friend for life…
Cause he knew at the first glance what metal m made of…
This was S… I splashed water… jumped and laughed aloud
And it felt heaven….

Friday, April 25, 2008

renew, reuse, recycle

Chipped and splintered
Spalled by the meson called time
Pieces of persona fragmented
Small bit here and there
Separated by pauses
Each waits to meet other
Oh! My homeland written on one
And my workplace on other
My pa’s effort called one
Ma’s dedication spelled other
Sis my dear the little quarrels
And lots of love
Bros’ pampering and care all over
One piece it was a great sculpture
After they rejoin is another
Shook off and extirpated
My existence is renewed
Reincarnation… for good… or…

pa is the best pa


Wednesday, April 23, 2008

PMS


Suspires she left with….
Words got chocked… couldn’t breathe…
Hah… despair…
Reason unknown… unasked…
Ill returned
There isn’t any reality…
If only, her seeked reality…
could be found…
Why me … why me…
Wounded someone was or maybe not….
He should heel or not or whatever he wants…
Why me…. why me….
Suspires again…..
Timid existence…. With Surcingles unknown
In reach yet gone...
tingles but no action...
aah... its just a phase... or PMS

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Azaleas


This air is intoxicated
Filled with the perfume of color
color rubbed contours wait
For touch of such… to get more high…
Goose pimpled body needs nothing
In return of one more encounter…
Of those tips and these tips…
Ends … and reaches…none to define..
Arms length or stone throw …
Away always means not near
Showing but not coming
And the air waits…Azaleas it feels… vivid yet dry

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

looking back


I wish he saw me drunk by the stagnant pool
Soaked but baking under the sharp eyes of sun
Nudity finding a new dimension
With play of cloth tingles on the uneven tan of skin
Droplets traveling through the bare back
Showing an undernourished skin and impurities in veins
Flesh of legs and almost fleshless arms...

I wish I met him the day, I didn’t fear to look good
Seductivity lingered only on the edge of the eyes
Not showing up not going away
Traveling up to the edge of the lips and vanishing
Producing a shrug of desperation in spectators…
Drooling around to find the rare glimpses of it
And me unaware of it completely…

I wish he sat near me under that lone tree…
In the field where I used to go for surveying
Blazing sun wondered what material I am made of
With m oozing on that summer day
Found all reason not to work but command
When I found partners in crime and produced…
Precise results of survey not even done…

I wish he slept with me that night
When moonlessness found masturbating stars
Dipped in wine red emotions of craving unmatched
When laying alone on that terrace
I felt sexy for the first time
And wished for a moon cloud cladded…
Soon to be annealed and left with lusty desires

I wish he knew the vagabond, ignorant and mischievous me
Before discovering rational, responsible and reliable me…
And loved the dark in me before …
He made me believe …
I am made of light …

Monday, April 7, 2008

of sea, sky, sand and him 2


Tranquil ultramarine spread across the horizon
Sky is all set to seduce the sea to leave the land and travel through it
Forming an enormous cloud... deep in color, wet and rain bearing
Shore tries hard not to give in to the fling to become one with sea
Sand betraying the shore rushes to the sea...
Escorted and lured by the currents...

She awaits him with all her emotional turbulences...
Showing
in the wetness of her eyes...
in the curves of her body...
in the rushes of the flush
in the wave of arousal traveling pour by pour...
Sometimes steadily, sometimes erratic, sometimes rhythmic

And then ... he emerges...
at the silvering edge of the horizon...
Looking like a loner desperate to meet satori

Sky amazes and looks perplexed
Sand and current stop their dancing and seem freeze in motion
Even The unmatched libido of passionate sea goes placid

A change in her as well...
Mysticism takes over eroticism...
He seeks answers in her...
The quest of which made him travel to lands nowhere...
She finds questions in him...
She is born to answer of which she never found listeners...
And it seems just the start of a story untold ...unborn...
This air got empregnant just now and there is still time...

Of pouring clouds and coincidences


What was I doing when he had to walk for 24 hours to reach his nearest shelter some 3 years back followed by pneumonia … when Mumbai was washed by rains and had almost been abandoned by its caretakers…
Memories always betray me… I usually don’t have much to remember when I know I had suffered. I suffer and forget… erase the incidents and dates and there are no memories. Mind machine does it all for me it submits to my intense desire to be happy and rock d party. I wonder if it keeps any back up of memories or registry entry of events somewhere.
So to check I press upon it… the archived section is in to action… and I start remembering piece by piece…
I am in UD’s cabin the COO for projects under NID… he refuses to issue my stipend and write several mails to claim the same.
On the other hand mind starts parallel processing the endless details bit by bit of the bus I am designing… already in the sixth month of the project I am sick and tiered of enormous, monstrous, time consuming work which is not to lead me anywhere and not to let me go back… but who knew then ..That all those sleepless nights I spent are to go in vain… while I prepare the presentation of design and wait for rains to stop so that I could travel back to Bangalore and get done with the project.
Rain doesn’t stop, my stipend does … I shift back to hostel from the outside rented apartment … staying unauthorized, money less, aimless (no my parents didn’t stop the inflow of money… they didn’t know my stipend is stopped).
Till yesterday I was maintaining 2 apartments one at Bangalore one at Ahmedabad now I am unable to sustain even one. Rain postpones presentation- which postpones approvals- which postpones- stipends which postpones- reports- jury-convocation- new job joining- entry in international design team.
But who knew all that then… I am not so troubled by this postponement… sitting under the asbestos roof of the BMW (behind the metal workshop) canteen I love every bit of rains… it pours to please me … rains always give me sense of fulfillment, nourishment, care and I see my mom loving me through rains from distant land she sends these rain bearing cloud to pour over this asbestos shade to tell me I am still missed and cared and needed back in home.
It trances me back to home where its pouring now for 10 continuous day and I put on Megh Malhar in Kishori Amonker’s voice (when I visualize the voice I see sister not her)… loud … clear… enchanting she says… “maaan na kariye…. Tumhare karana aayo megha…” (Don’t be distant now that these rain bearing clouds have come just for you)… and calls me to get drenched in the eternal nectar pouring in the form of water drops…(Anandamrit…)
I stand in shade… refusing all the calls of Kishori Amonker of my mind and my trance breaks. Bus comes in front of me trapped in rains unable to move… and I laugh at my own imagery of situation…
Twitchy, jittery, agitated but not depressed but angry I come back sit in front of my booked computer in this big computer center… and there is a mail in the group mail… yahoo group … S is yelling “N(me) ko koi yahan se le jao (someone take her away from here) she doesn’t let me work… sits directly opposite in this comp lab troubling me distracting me”… I laugh at this regular prank S loves to play over group mail… approach him in person and see how his work is shaping up (he had recently designed costumes for a movie and it had come out well but documenting the same is being troubling him resulting in a prank on group mail). He smiles a naughty smile…and I read delay in documentation… but I also read determination…
“A” gets the joke over group mail and sends reply…
“Dip dip dip…. And it’s ready to sip…
If you want it stronger dip a little longer …
Dip dip dip…. And it’s ready to sip…” yes mine would be a great sip… a strong one a determined me declare…while reading A’s reply…
Diploma projects are considered never ending at NID . they seem unending to all who do them … but all at NID have to do them and it also ends as everything ends…. Sometime well, sometime short, sometime timely, sometime swarming, sometime tight, sometimes loose…
Mine too ended …. With bitter sweet memories … some acclamations and some bad words … I had my share of both…
Rain stopped exactly after 20 days (postponing my presentation twice) of this day and I could leave only on 15th of august delaying my project by 3 months in total… I paid for that stay… that delay… touched the greatest low of career … emotional distress… only to recover and come in shape when I shall meet him exactly after 2 years on the same date when he walked for 24 hours continuously to reach the nearest shelter…

That night he realized the hope he was clinging on was false that night I realized even when I seem to go down it is only to reach new high in the near or distant future.

Monday, March 31, 2008

of sea, sky, sand and him


lemon tea


Lemon tea with honey ( warm)… that’s what I always have in breaks… many see it from a distance so many appreciate my choice and few other come close and actually indulge in the joy of having this translucent, aromatic, intriguing and refreshing experience.
Lemon teas (I don’t drink one at a time) were always my sweetheart but today’s tea was special … it had a strange intoxicating effect … the redness got more flushed … and the warmth found another definition… for those who wonder what could make the nimbu ki chai special… here are four lines … not mine but so true for a warm lemon tea …
“like a fragile fragrance of your slender nape ...
like that lingering taste in my mouth
like the warm embrace of your whisper
like a seductive touch of your naughty waist”
So apt isn’t it… and for those who know more than this… yes I had been to Mumbai… :). Spring couldn’t get more pink.

standing out of love (in context of Prometheus_Unbound's post)


When we are certain that we are out of a relation we should be out at once. It needs a lot of courage to tell someone you loved and aspired to marry that the relation is no more but once you said that there is no looking back, there is nothing to look for, absolutely nothing.
It’s a fraction of second in which a heart breaks but before that there is a whole saga attached as of how and why that person behaved that way in that particular moment. Sometimes we give unnecessary importance to the whole I am missing someone and/ I need someone… calls of our own heart.
Once you love someone and make him/her part of your life, you should be prepared to accept the person with all his/her negativity and shortcomings.
There are so many ways people try to recover from heart break… whatever is your way let that person never know that you bled nah! Never, it’s not about being strong or weak but just being mature. Cutting off all the communications is the only way. Cry if you want… scream if you wish but never let that guy know that you did that. The only way I know is forget about it or at least pretend it never happened. I would have changed my name if needed to overcome a heart break.
I have seen so many people in the mode of revenge after the heart break. One thing shouldn’t be forgotten that the pleasure of togetherness was equal so the pain would almost be equal… blame games only make the suffering permanent… here writers and bloggers are at risk they paint the gloom on the pages and try getting rid of the suffering but they don’t know that this way the suffering becomes permanent and the person go through similar pain every time he/she visits the pages it not only haunt the person involved but the peripherally related person.
You will never get to know, when someone is knocking your doors, if you are busy listening to old echoes.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

subjectivity of existence

To mean is my question
To experience is my assumption
To participate and observe is my method
And existence is my evidence.
based on Elizabeth Tunstall's post on anthrodesign group.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

well read

i prefer thinking to reading...

needn't to say people with lesser imagination read a lot....

Thursday, February 21, 2008

moon prewedded

Ooo my love
Let you not miss…
This pre wedded moon
Of tonight
Cause u may not find
The same night
The same star
The same nip in the air
The same moon rushing through thousand clouds
Turbulating and restless
To anneal the virginity of this pre wedded moon
Cause after this moon
U will be you
Me will be me
But not the same….

Enigma

As she bath she remembers,
How had she been,
So ignorant of herself,
Never to look at mirror..
Was the fate of her face…
Never to be free of tangles,
Was the fate of her hair,
skin left unnourished,
aah what kind of a women is she?
ever blissfull, self contained,
bubbly, charming,
and above all a free spirit,
and now that her body as all perfume,
skin as silk, pouts so lusidious,
hair as cascade…
she wonders if she lost herself in this pre wedded moon?

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

who knows

I could be a psychopathic killer for all he knows......

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Home... No more


Exiled to exist in wilderness
Else to be found and killed
Cause I don’t speak the language

I may feel belonged and abode
But they can….

At any point in time
Term me an outsider
To be found and killed

Or to exist nowhere
Almost... or roam as an expatriate

Cause I can’t go back
To the place
From where my ancestors came

To the place which was
My home... but no more….

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

to bloom again


He arrives at her door to shake off his chilling memories of betrayal, disgust and even lush warmth…. He seems sheltered ….. At peace… the nomad in him is accepted and appreciated…. He is amused for he expects nothing…. ….
She exists as air surrounding him…. As overlapping emotions their existence overlap each other…. synced to each other…
he gives himself to this sync… expects nothing but her surround… silent patient and calm… sooths his soul sooths his wounds … no rush… to fawn him…
he is on exile from memories and she has none. He needs rest while she runs…. Yeh she runs…She runs to shake him for she can’t take his unnerving silence.
He wraps her to be wrapped by her… shuts her earnest eyes in his cloistering hand …To offer one has to have something in possession …. As he offers all “what is left” she wonders what is the meaning of “all what is left”.
The bed sheets are sullied and piano has thick layer of dust on it…. For her to clean and make new for herself…. She would make do… she would cause it cleanses her soul in return… her candid, simple and zero memory soul… she always existed devoid of memories and he was the one to lure her to the slippery path of nurturing emotions and cherishing memories.
she refuses to take “what is left”. Wonders….. Can it be nurtured “what is lost”…. “Given to someone”….. never to return.
It is to be brought back or nurtured again for sure for he doesn’t exist without the immense capability to love, he once possessed...... Rare glimpses of which she sees but can’t catch.... it will have to bloom again ........ as she deserves her share of it

Sunday, February 10, 2008

spring it is.... not me


Could spring be ever stopped?

Tweaking its way through the high rise buildings
Showing itself in blossom of a grass plant
Cherishing the everlasting legend of love

Could you ever stop yourself spotting the manifestations of it?

How much higher you build
How much more you defoliate
how much stronger you fortify... against it

Spring has its own ways ...
To remind you
That you are alive ...
And capable of love

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

a bit less feminine….

They always look at me passing by…
Yeh a head turner I am…
When I walk pass they turn to me…
Never fail to see me… try identifying if I am the same…. They saw last time…
Aah the stare…. Not one not two but endless…. Sea of faces looking at me…
Limlight they say…. Centerstage they say……
But I know the truth…. The very reason they look at me….

Its just that my walk is just a bit less feminine…. as I am always told....
a bit less feminine.... still they all roam around buzz me like bees to nectar.....

If only anyone could rate feminity…. ever...

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

pronouncing love


A rooftop and rushing breeze… full of energy to toss everything to pieces…
She stands alone with in the sea of faces…. She loves rooftops and she obviously loves breeze …

“Weather is good” someone remarked…. “Its romantic” she amended….
As she speaks the word her tongue paused for a second….

Romantic….. Romantic…. Romantic….

“Is it really romantic or I am romanticizing…”

She went in to contemplation

“I had been romanticizing all through…. Defined love by his actions…
Understood longing by his pain…. Kept him on high altar as someone who went through worst to find me…. He deserves the best…. Remodeled the lifestyle… remodeled the perception (how successfully is still debatable)….. Found (built) reasons for eccentric behavior…. Happily accepted all what comes as a package called ‘him’….. Am I really happy… is this what I longed for, aspired for, dreamt of….and waited for”

“Oh! Its really romantic from this rooftop when I look at the setting sun as it says goodbye to rest in the cozy embrace of its beloved hills, ranging all across the western horizon…. As it sets and asks me to rush to you and get engulfed by you …. Remain in between your vast chest and tight clasp of long arms forever.... I wish you were here…
I wish you would pick my call for once …..And your voice showers the unmatched love of yours…. The unbroken spell on me….”

“To hell with romance…. I have to finish lots of work today…” she shakes her head and comes back to her workplace…. But she can’t shake the idea just like that

I miss you …. I miss you….. Oh! I miss you…..

She cant work….. forces herself, but cant…..

In a blink she is back to the rooftop…. That’s the only solace … rooftop is the silent companion a constant one…

Cigarette in hand she lights... and watches the setting sun doing all the mischieves with the ranging hills…. It lights them up… brush them with the rays…. They are all aroused … it hides behind them slowly …. Orgasmic….

As much as the cigarette on the lips…

She sucks in the smoke and it sucks the tenderness of her lips…. Both of them on mission…. Puff by puff…. Slow but intense….Inhaling smoke she knows its just for a drag that she can forget him….not even that…. He will again take the center stage and there is no running away from him… his memories… his ways of life…. His thought process…. He has overpowered every other addiction and she is now addicted to him…. Paralyzed without him…

Cigarette is no replacement to his supple lips…. This rooftop is no replacement to his cozy embrace…

I love you…. Love you…. Love ….. Ha ha ha ha….