the park on a sunny saturday afternoon

its late on a saturday afternoon. the sun is out and there are multicoloured children and dogs everywhere. everyone is happy and playful and contented. every now and then a new kind of bird comes along and hops around, before it flies away again. overhead the trees wave filigree fans in the soft breeze. the grass is dotted with little flowers. the sun is bright and beautiful, and just right. the sky that it bears the sun is soft and blue and bright and everything is perfection. if there are clouds, they are so far, that you cant really see.

so i sit here in this beautiful corner of the park, watching the strange sunlight fall all around me. like pan the mad god, he changes and moves with every minute. the light tumbles down, on the grass, in the tree's, on the hills. its easy to feel like it will stay, like the sun itself is falling. but the sun never falls, really. nor stays in one place forever. however beautiful the place is. after a few glorious days of sunshine, its easy to fall in love with the warmth; to resentfully miss it, when it moves, yet again. the park corner gets a shade colder and darker. and a little lonelier, even with the hordes of smiling friendly people.

there's nothing to say really, when you dont want to give it away. everything general, oblique and carefully cryptically secretly profound, has been said already. keeping secrets tires me. what if we just told the truth? maybe we could if we knew it ... today, i miss you both. one who is far away and one who is so distant. i dont know what i would do with it if the distance melted, but i for now, i miss it.

the movie last night had a reference to "follow your bliss". obedient to the recalled instructions, i close my eyes and remember my last 'bliss', but resurface with a random one. it was a while ago, walking in old lanes, very near here, back warm with the sun. thinking nothing really, but nice thoughts cushioning the moment, somewhere around in the head.

this line from 'in the mood for love' stayed with me. 'we will not be like them'; and like good resident lines, it keeps coming back in different contexts. i dont want to be like them. i dont want to mourn the most glorious thing i ever felt, to complain, find faults, bargain, measure and cry over. i am happy with having found one source for all things bright and beautiful. you would be happy with what you get, if you expected nothing.

yet the irony that underlies all things makes a sharp edge to tread the walk of life on. however vaguely friendly and lukewarmly impersonally the sun shines down on you, its nice to have it within your horizon somewhere, even when it is not in your eye. when it goes away, carried by the wind, the moon, even if there is no rain, dews a slight coat of moist down on the world, which slowly over time freezes to frost. but another tomorrow, there will be another day, with the same sun, till such time that time and change dont take it away. i am glad i know that, for me, this is the final destination, the one. or so it seems for now. it feels good to be back home in edinburgh.

i used to love this song. i think it was written by dylan (not dylan thomas, whoever he was), but i'm not sure. i first heard it in 'hope floats'. this is an awful version, but the only one i found online!

fool for you

any other fool would know
i'm fool for loving you
any other fool could see
but not the fool thats me

if only we could love where loved
so much love lays wasted
why weave these long chains of fancies
each equally unrequited

This picture

can you fall in love ...

with a city, a place, a time?


like butterflies
words and feelings
float about
in the semi dark neon ness
except, for a blur

suddenly you realise
something small
has been woven into you
a fleeting feeling
that could have been but a dream
that you will never know
if you imagined
will wake you restless in the night
your heart full of fear and longing

seeing you,
could not have come better timed
and yet fear swells with anxiety
what will tomorrow bring?
what will the years unfold?
something small
has been woven into me ...
it will forever float about me
like a shroud
of a faintly undiscernible
or a memory
or a flower
or a shroud
which is it to be?
what will time unfold?


when is too much too much

time decides it afresh for each of us. we choose a thorn and push ourselves into it as far as we can bear the pain ... and then pause, take a breath and push in some more ... all for the singing ... or so says the legend

Everywhere is You, You are in Everyone (misc random thoughts - school of divinity library, sanctuary)

ost - phish - silent in the morning

i trust their written word
and adore their flights of thought
but will not follow everywhere
that they roads of their reason walk
how can i not believe in you,
how can i let you go?
you're everywhere to me,
you're in everyone.
silently you talk to me.
i carry your smiles and frowns.
steadily you walk by me
i talk to you all day long

when i see your face
something inside, bursts into a song
of happiness and faith
i dont know where it comes from
i dont know why it does
its terribly hard, to hold it back
reign it in with
the leash of reason and control
how can everything be so beautiful?
even every tear ...

i have lived with you for many years now
by now you should be old
but your wonders never cease
yet i cant imagine doing without
the last time, i said goodbye
it almost broke my heart
every you, every part, is beautiful
every day, every corner, is new
each day, you still show me a new face
how can i not love you,
though you belong to me,
but someone else?

can you learn to love without desire?
can i learn love like the breeze?
can ever i stop feeling this way?
can i ever live somewhere else?
can you ever find the answers
that youre most looking for?
can you ever not find the answers
that youre most looking for?
keep listening, keep looking,
the are everywhere.

New Blog

Also been writing at Villa in Iceland, for a while now. I'm pretty kicked about it, actually :)


for a moment i was sorely tempted
i wanted to take your hand and say
just stay for a while
dont be so scared.

i wont ask for forever
a little scrap of your time
or your heart,
will last me a while

i wanted to hold on to you and cry
this time has broken.
even my stubborn heart.
i never felt like this before.

dont be scared for tomorrow.
i'll be gone before sunrise.
i'm more scarder than you are;
but stay tonight.

i need you, like i never knew
i could need before,
stay still for a moment,
or a night, or a few days.

hold me close, let me in
let me breathe your spirit in,
its so beautiful ...
ur perfection, defined.

let me warm my hands, in the light in your eyes.
i'm frozen from being outside.
stay still for a moment,
i'll be gone by daylight.

i'm not looking for forever.
just a little scrap of your time,
or your heart,
will last me a while.

i could have said all that
i would have said all that
if i only dared
if i only knew, if it wasnt just a lie


gypsy boy

walking in the evening
i met a gypsy boy
he looked dreaming, happy
he looked kind of sad
so i smiled at him and he smiled back
and i asked him where he was at
this is what he said to me
as he smiled and answered back

he said, i'm standing at a point
where i have never been before
seen either side of the road
but never trappen in the middle before
and from this place and moment
i wouldnt know where to go
if this road goes nowhere
i dont know where i'll go

so i asked him if he'll come with me
come out from the cold
he shaked his head and smiled again
and he said he'd never leave


funny how i never saw what you saw ...
thank god you pointed it out!
i was blinded by my most sacred alter.
or maybe even that was always self deception?

could it be for anyone so hard to learn
that your internal image of relating is essentially flawed
it's vital not to care too much. or to judge, target worth
three decades. is that too much to learn?

my little one. i have tried so hard to save you.
to hide you. to teach you. shelter you while you grow
but i need your help to make it, love.
if you keep coming out, they will keep doing this

now dont come to me with big torn eyes
dont sit before me staring at the blood that way
i had warned you, about perfect strangers
they're not like you. they're flawed in a different way.

colour purple

over my head, the waters swirl blue and black and green
jagged little pieces of logic everywhere, sinking in
none hit me, though some scraped my skin, brushing past

filtered by the water, above my head
the sun shines bright and red
blown far far away by the blast

i watch the realization in a white bubble near my head
i must move out of here, before i sink
you cold warmth, your determined undeterminism

grey and white for practicality
and a little bit of green and brown and blue
because you love the skies too.

wild purples, a indigo and swirls of red moss
the sea, deep below, the sky on a stormy night
the still of hanging stars in the night.

and in the distance, i see you.
i am trying to reach out, can you see me
hold my hand. stop me. pull me out. before its too late.

death is born in the birth
time is framed and couched in time
it never goes on, but in circles

what will you stand in the center?
what fill with each days worth?
what will i do with this life?

you were right when you said what you said
whats the point of it all, at all?
maybe time has come to run again. if nothing, there's always fresh starts

Imagine ...

If you could make a world of your own, a life of your own, what would you change, if you could change anything?

This is what I am thinking. Small house, barley beer, lots of friends, just enough on the table for everyone, barely, ends stretched and made to meet with love and smiles. Snotty nosed children, with pink faces burtsing with laughter and wonder. And you and me. Exchanging glances. Knowing that you know that i know that you know, ad infinitum, that this is what and where and when. (The way we do when we see those nice mommies and daddies)

Outside, the rain is spitting. Somehow, here it doesnt seem as bad as the spitting I always complained about in my letters from Pune and Bristol. So you laugh at me, because you always know, dont you?

The sky has bent down low to share a joke with the earth. The mountains (and I cant get over how amazed you are with the snow) stand tall and bit indifferent. Fascinatingly stoic.

for kiddo ...

it makes sense, doesnt it, that i love you so madly? i learned it in class today (EP)! partly, its genetic shared investment. then its the fact that we are alike. then its the fact that like the bee-eaters, i'm in last term, with low chances so better chances to pass the shared bit of the baton if i help you out than get distracted with endeavours of my own ;0)

yeah. i am just kidding. felt so good to talk to you. been so long. Kufree? wow! i never even knew there was such a plac.


the colourless moon
stained blue and yellow
from hanging with the stars in a midnight sky
slowly droops, as his courage wilts

every now and then he smiles
down a shine
to charge the reflection below
so far away, floating on a uneven face of lead

no wonder it was distorted
does she really think
i look like that?
the wilting moon, tiring wonders:

i love you all
but the mountains call
if i leave today,
wouldnt you miss me at all?

i know that it would break her heart
and i know i could almost not bear to part
but at times, i get so tired
i cant wait for the tomorrow to start.

the stars will shine on
through the night
and the reflections
stand the test of time.

shadow so pure
so scared and clean
everything that he wanted to be
a better him. maybe he should just leave.

cold, leaden, unsmiling, uneven water
so far away. so changing
now giggling best friend. now cold heartless stranger
so far away. wouldnt even notice.

but from this night out
the road is long
and the path unmarked
and the end unknown.

the colourless moon
stained blue and yellow
from hanging with the stars in a midnight sky
slowly droops, as his courage wilts.

every now and then he smiles
down a shine
to charge the reflection below
so far away, she floats like lead

i love them all
but the darkness calls
if i leave today,
would'nt you miss me at all?

Near death experiences linked to sleep anomalies

Connections between out-of-body and near death experiences, and people who have unusual experiences when falling asleep or waking, have been found by Kevin Nelson and colleagues.

More @ Mind Hacks.

2 out of 3 and other old favourites

Talking of old songs, with memories, that hit you on the head sometime or the other with the amazing real life applicability of the lyrics, songs you had forgotten and then you suddenly hear somewhere, or something puts in your head, i'd give you these:

1. Meatloaf: 2 out of 3
2. Shawn Mullins - Lullaby
3. Peter Cetera - No Explanations
4. Keith Carradine - I'm Easy
5. Leonard Cohen - Suzzanne

i like lists to be 5, but: ... guess is a category by itself

Another Beautiful Mind

When Eleanor Longden began hearing things, she soon found herself drugged, sectioned and labelled schizophrenic. Then a psychiatrist taught her how to talk back

Eleanor Longden, 25, started hearing voices when she was a teenager. But, contrary to the usual perception of inner voices, Longden says hers weren't destructive: "It was rather mundane, simply giving me a narration of some of the day-to-day things I was doing. In many ways, the voice was companionate because it was reminding me that I was carrying on with my responsibilities despite feeling so sad inside. There was something constructive about it."

People like Longden who admit to hearing inner voices can generally expect two outcomes: a diagnosis of insanity, and potent medication. But a group of psychiatrists and psychologists believe it's time we reconsidered labels such as schizophrenia and the drugs used as treatment. In fact, they believe we should get people to listen to, and actually engage with, the voices inside their heads.

The network has a growing professional following, Dillon says. "We get a lot of referrals from psychiatrists nowadays, although there's still a long way to go."

Talking heads

* Studies have found that between four and 10 per cent of Britons hear voices.

* Between 70 and 90 cent of people who hear voices do so following traumatic events.

* Voices can be male, female, without gender, child, adult, human or non-human.

* People may hear one voice or many. Some people report hearing hundreds, although in almost all reported cases, one dominates above the others.

* Voices can be experienced in the head, in the ears, outside the head, in some other part of the body, or in the environment.

* Voices often reflect important aspects of the hearer's emotional state - emotions that are often unexpressed by the hearer.

* The "hearing voices movement" has spread across the world. There are groups in countries as far afield as Australia, Finland, Japan and Palestine.

* Well-known voice hearers include Plato, Sigmund Freud, Beethoven, Byron, Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Isaac Newton and Winston Churchill.

More Here.

Sometimes when we touch, Dan Hill

Another old favourite. I can still remember when I first heard this song. For some reason, it's tied up with "Twisting by the Pool" and "Diamonds and Rust". I think I heard them all for the first time in School, being played either by the school
band (featuring the then love of my life) or by Dia and Anjali during the lucknow socials. I can still remember Diya's voice as she leaned towards the mike and said, (our boys had just lost to lknw - so whats new) "well, you'll always be our heros"
Oh man - how COOL had it all seemed and how grown up those bloody 17 year olds had seemed. I couldnt wait to be all grown up too ...

I think I had forgotten about it till I saw it again in Brokeback Mt.
But I love the words of the song. Its one of those rare songs which are so real and everyday truth that you can actually identify with every word. Or, well, I can :)

But it makes me think, how much of the songs, or anything else, that we love are the stuff themselves and how much is the stuff that they remind us off or make us feel like or just any other association?

spiralling down, to the hole in the ground, where i hide

when you are broken
when you are blue
when you are tired of tending
to everybodies wounds
who do you turn to?

who shepherds the shephards
who listens to the listeners
who cares for the carers
because they hurt too.
every now and then, they draw a blank too

so what would i do if i was in your shoes
so this is the way you should look at it
so this is why it will get better for you
i'm fine. dont even ask.
believe me, you don't wanna know.

what would you do if there was no god to judge you
what would you live for if you didnt believe in love
what would you do, if i dissapeared.
wouldnt you miss me at all?
so where do i go to stock up again? cz i've run out of the wares i sell

it's a blue day in sunnydale
it's a blue day in hell
it's a mad day of madness
but all will be well again
in a min or two they'll fix the walls


You Are Expressionism

Moody, emotional, and even a bit angsty... you certainly know how to express your emotions.

At times, you tend to lack perspective on your life, probably as a result of looking inward too much.

This introspection does give you a flair for the dramatic. And it's even maybe made you cultivate some artistic talents!

You have a true artist's temperament... which is a blessing and a curse.

Just another lonely Day: Ben Harper

Just another lonely day, Ben Harper

This is one of my favouritest songs ever! I still remember the first time I heard it. I was looking for throw your arms around me, another favourite. As far as I know this was written by Hunters and Collectors, resung by PJ and BH. I love the words of both these songs. One of those that really do something to you ... but I also love the texture of his voice. Its one of those songs that makes me crazy. lol. if any making were needed ;)

And isnt it ironic that this youtube user has pic'd it to mona and chandler! monica and chandler have loads of pre-memories. mainly because i always hated the fact that joey and chandler break up bcz of her. damn. growing up. do we have to?)

In other notes, spring is sringing thought it doesnt seem that way from the tornado-like winds here, when I woke up and went down at 4 in the AM yesterday, I heard my first birdsong of the season :)