so this it! sdont know what will happen now. back in the bog. and so soon. i was hopeful till the end. i thought it would be okay. but nothing is ever okay for me - is it. back to the fucking bench - for atleast two months! at work and in life. everytime things get a little better - it blows up in my face. at the beginning of this blog - I wrote - I have a friend who is leaving me and it feels like a body is leaving a shadow and the sun is sinking

im a coward ... i feel sorry for creeps and cant tell them how much i hate them
i smile and "stay chill" and wear masks ... and avoid them as much as possible

but sometimes it hurts
sometimes i wonder
how can people be like this ...
how can someone betray you in everyway - how can someone bitch about you, betray your confidences
and spend their lives whining and crying and gathering sympathy
how can you be prostrate with grief bcz
you think ur in love with someone who you barely know
yet you do things like this to them ...
how can you make a fuss over every slight slight you think has been given to you
and be totally impervious to all the dirt you dish out
how can you be so wallowing in self pity and so magnify things that happen to you
what would you do if you were faced with real pain ...
what would you do if ur father raped you
what would you do if you lost your parents
what would you do if you were starving, jobless, and hopeless
what would you do if you had aids and you were dying

oh! what rubbish I dish out early in the morning
im the worst of all i know ... this is what i dislike most in me ... why am I so bloody judgemental all the time ...
sanctimonious ;) yeah!
anyway ... who gives a shit anyway ... lifes like that. shit happens. u gotto keep moving on. thats all.
and you gotto try to be brave. i can handle it - whatever it is.

its a new day today

what is it about a new day / new week / new year that inspires this tra-la-la Im so kicked mood ...
anyway ... my instructor got mad at me as soon as I walked into the gym (almost) so I got blasted at 5 am for running when Im not supposed to - my knee ... o my knee ... o my poor knee ... when will it stop haunting me ... I shouldve never told her about the accident! ;0)

brilliant weekend! friday saw chupke-chupke again - never fail to get happy over the smooth sweet of HM or the pathetic diction of JB or the brilliance of AB or the splendour of ST ... there are these few heroines I like ... they pull off the oomph-style with dragging down to cheap - in my book - first and foremost zeenat aman! i adore her - #2 manisha ... others ... sharmila / tanuja / waheeda rahman / rani mukherjee / tabu!

went to houston on saturday - long drive - which I wasnt allowed to help out with - poor bugger thought Id bash his car up ... but he kept falling asleep and and we almost got bashed up ... anyway - the highlights of houston ... I got all the goodies ma sent me, met this cool family, got within stroking distance of dogs (3) after a year and some ... and I saw the MOST amazing house! the house itself was paati - no big deal - but the setting was MIND BLOWING - I fell in love with it! imagine sitting on a plush leather couch drinking tree and suddenly looking up to notice a wall of glass and a jungle outside ... well thats what it looked like at first. it was orgasmic ;0) yeah thats an adjective I havent used since my teens!

but the best part was meeting some people who werent the 'paati' crowd I have to take everyday! some decent normal civilised people! i must admit Im a closet snob. i dont check out people based on their family trees like ma ;) and I dont look down on people because they are paati - in fact i hang out with them and like them and try to filter out what I dont like about them ... but still maybe its forced to a extent so it feels really relaxing to meet people like this after a while ... theres only so much chalu hindi music, bad grammer, inexposed crap I can take - after a bit I need a break. GREAT! now I feel likea total bitch for having said this! all people are wonderful - no matter what their externals - but u get used to people of a certain kind - and when ur suddenly thrown into a very "different" crowd ... one ... against many ... u do think about these things once in a while ...

I went to nasa to - but that was a bummer! saw "2 suns in the sunset" - but I didnt have my camera with me so I couldnt click it! on the way back we stopped at this charming little picnic area ... it was dark. the engine was off and my seat inclined all the way and looking up at a brilliant sky lit up with stars. but

saw movies all day sunday - wall / breathless / sophies choice - till 1 am - then up again at 4 for the gym ...ouch!!!

<2b continued>

from Childe Harold, Canto iii, Verse 45, By Lord Byron

he who ascends to mountain-tops shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though high above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head.
And thus rewards the toils which to those summits led.


last night ... i received a sms from baba that gave me some hope again. fuel again. peace from fear again ... i love you 'sonababa'

i saw "somethings gotta give" last night. and i fell in love with it. some of my fav lines from the movie ...

am i (going) mad or does this happen to everyone? they say before you die - or when u know u might ... the scenes from your past life flash by you. like that when i know im moving camp - or may be - the scenes from life there flash past in my mind. and when there is no other process going on i get random flashes of anywhere anytime. like one of those screensavers which pick random snaps from "my pictures". flashes of the past float past my brain. im scared. i dont wanna go. not yet. pls pls pls god not yet.

green pleated skirts (6 inches above the knee) and dark blue blazers in the nursery park
begging the ice cream man for a "orange-stick" ... just in case ... u never know ... just bcz he refused to give " one free" for 6 years doesnt mean he has to say no again ... ("johhny pls - give no - 1 please - free - please no!" "johhny pls - give no - 1 please - free - please no!" "johhny pls - give no - 1 please - free - please no!" in an endless litany) till the bell rings for class again

zeecones on those funny stairs near tuck-shop
mint fudge. chatts acting pricey on squad duty
sauce waltzing off for piano class and the rest of us trailing in her path with wistful eyes as we are stuck in SUPW class ...

first day of socials (was it prize day ... ?) in lawrence hall ... the boyz school band - and twisting by the pool ... (u'll always be my hero)

"footpaths" like heat radiators ... sqatting at the edge ... watching the "grown ups" of ten and above play in their groups

aimlessly loitering the roads of the "para" ... trying to find how my paths there could be between southern avenue and kabir rd and the lakes. walking past the begging of the "lake" ... a pool of mud and the mudmen playing mudball ... football practise in the rain

the smell of kaali bari near chona's house. the flashy here now gone now smile of the basti kid i was so pally with in my old age. the smell of LSP. the khatiya outside sharma's ... the smell of the paneer tikka ... sitting there sloshed at 3am ... watching the string of roadside fires ... this queen wears rubies

the sea tartouse ... where you would have to periodically remind urself that other people exist in the world. dragging my "stick" in the sand ... the sunflowers "jungles" and the olive groves ... the total deep stillness and isolation. the beauty the bliss the addiction to isolation and quiet ... then? at 5?

my rowing club in bristolat dawn. foaming waves of mist above it. the pain in the small of the back. the sound of the woods around when u got back ... the bus station in bristol. the train in damascus. the sun in thailand. the smell of "chingri maachher mailai kaari" the feel of the "rupor thaala" used for birthdays. the sudden cool-th of ma's house, her hand, her cheeks.the feel of having less between ur arms every year when i go back to hug her ... my ma, my anchor, my axis and the fresh sponge feel of when I kiss munu. and the inbetween feel of mummy and the rough spike poky dunhillblacklabel flavoured feel of baba.and the first time i walk in and see papa's snap ...

Im scared of the decision Im weighing ... it would change Everything ... do i want to do it ... more importantly ... can I? is it too late? do I still have the strength in my knuckles to rap on this door? Am I not too old to scrap Everything and start again from fresh. Yes I suppose I am ... Ki re anirban?

on a different note ... how many times a day do u feel like saying "its none of ur f business" or "why dont u just leave me f alone" :) on a differenter note ... why do i still write in this stupid blog? im just "throwing questions into the big black void out there"

bad time strikes

What of it, if only you alone
can understand your own poetry?
The relish is when one person says it,
and. another understands it!
Ghalib would rise against the insults with typical verses like this one;
0 God, they never have, and never will
understand what I have to say
Give them a different heart
if you can't give me a different tongue.

Ghalib, translated.

revisted Ghalib after ages. Im so dying for the weekend. got four dvds Im dying to see ... pride & prejudice (again) and isle of wight (the concert) and breathless.

im really pissed off about stuff ... dunno ... i know i shouldnt be superstitious - but why do i get fucked everytime i get a little happy. anyway - screw it - Im reminded of a IIT line my dad used to say a lot about "when rape is inevitable ..."

just then the phone rang ....

See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water.
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees
Laughing as it passes through the endless summer
Making for the sea.

how long has it been since I saw the kingfishers
leaning out of the open train door
faces smudged with excitement
feel the wind shout "hey! welcome back again"
on the way to home again, no more being 'good' no more
late nights, love affairs, food boose and rock and roll

In the lazy water meadow I lay me down.
All around me golden sun flakes settle on the ground.
Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon
Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room.

lazy summer afternoons
after school at the alipore house
chilled sweets and reading in the sun in the tennis court
tolly afternoons, smell of horses & chlorine
the known unscary world where all the parents r a little wild and bad

Following the path as it leads toward
The darkness in the north
Weary stranger's faces show their sympathy
They've seen that hope before

thought there was so much ahead
thought there was so much to win
thought there was so much i was destined for
all alone, by myself, jealous, possesive, as always
of every thought, every shade, every nuance of the ego
every book i loved, every song and cried with, every lofty dream lusted after

And if you want to stay for a little bit
Rest your aching limbs for a little bit
For you the night is beckoning
And now you can't delay
You hear the night birds calling you
But you can't catch the words they say
And you must you realize be on your way

do u ever feel tired? do u ever feel like the road is too long
do u ever feel like a beginning swimmer
splashing splashing and thrashing in the water
when u open ur eyes ur an inch away, and everyones dissapeared into the distance

Throw your thoughts back many years
To the time when love was life with every morning
Perhaps a day will come when the match for me the curlers past warning

i like it here. but it gets lonely at times. after all i dont know a soul here with whom I dont have to pretend with whom u dont have to be careful not to shock. the patent curiousity and "forever sharing" and the usandthem that we perpetrated and upheld. anyone who'll have a clue what the fuck im talking about if i just let loose. i feel at times like a deep sea driver. my lungs are bursting and i need to come up for a breath. desperately seeking i grope out in the dark. if i dont find one of my own, perhaps ill die then. spoke to chatts this weekend. im good for a while again.there are four people in this world - chatts, sauce, buro, ad. its not that i love them - its not that im close to them - we barely keep in touch - but if i dont get one of them to touch across the miles once in a while, ill die - like a fish out of water. u need to let the mask down every once in a while.

the lunatic is in my head

ummagamma and dark side. barrett, waters

been a long time
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.

You have been told that, even like a chain, you are as weak as your weakest link. This is but half the truth. You are also as strong as your strongest link.
To measure you by your smallest deed is to reckon the power of ocean by the frailty of its foam. And like the seasons you are also, And though in your winter you deny your spring, Yet spring, reposing within you, smiles in her drowsiness and is not offended. Think not I say these things in order that you may say the one to the other, "He praised us well. He saw but the good in us." I only speak to you in words of that which you yourselves know in thought. And what is word knowledge but a shadow of wordless knowledge? Your thoughts and my words are waves from a sealed memory that keeps records of our yesterdays, And of the ancient days when the earth knew not us nor herself, You have given me deeper thirsting after life. Surely there is no greater gift to a man than that which turns all his aims into parching lips and all life into a fountain. And in this lies my honour and my reward,
That whenever I come to the fountain to drink I find the living water itself thirsty; And it drinks me while I drink it. And some of you have called me aloof, and drunk with my own aloneness, And you have said, "He holds council with the trees of the forest, but not with men. He sits alone on hill-tops and looks down upon our city." True it is that I have climbed the hills and walked in remote places. How could I have seen you save from a great height or a great distance? How can one be indeed near unless he be far? Stranger, stranger, lover of unreachable heights, why dwell you among the summits where eagles build their nests? Why seek you the unattainable? What storms would you trap in your net, And what vaporous birds do you hunt in the sky? Come and be one of us. Descend and appease your hunger with our bread and quench your thirst with our wine." In the solitude of their souls they said these things; But were their solitude deeper they would have known that I sought but the secret of your joy and your pain, And I hunted only your larger selves that walk the sky. For often have I put my finger in my own wound that I might have the greater belief in you and the greater knowledge of you.

A little while, and my longing shall gather dust and foam for another body. A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me. Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you. It was but yesterday we met in a dream. You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky. But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn. The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part. If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. And if our hands should meet in another dream, we shall build another tower in the sky. So saying he made a signal to the seamen, and straightaway they weighed anchor and cast the ship loose from its moorings, and they moved eastward. And a cry came from the people as from a single heart, and it rose the dusk and was carried out over the sea like a great trumpeting.

Only Almitra was silent, gazing after the ship until it had vanished into the mist. And when all the people were dispersed she still stood alone upon the sea-wall, remembering in her heart his saying, A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me."

gibran

THE WINDS

Have you ever built a house of cards? Its a strange excerise. Meant to teach patience. All it ever taught me was frustration. And an intense, boiling, deep down inside rage, that bubbles and froths and threatens to scald my insides! You'd sooner cool fire than teach me patience!

Anyway, ad requiem. the reason I brought up the house of cards was to point out its funny juxtaposition of firmness and instability. Till a sec before the One wrong card ... its a most logical, stable, if useless, structure. One wrong card and not only the errent new addition, but every member of the structure comes tumbling down ...

One harsh word, one small failure and the "i really loved u" flies. Talism lost, the devil rushes in on the hapless heart. The prayer beads fallen, the incessent chanting stops. In the jarring silence of the hollow dry well of my heart, the snide voice threatens to shout. Loud enough that I will hear. Loud enough that I cant shut it out. NO!!! I cover my ears and run. "promise u wont cry" ...

Why does emotions not answer and follow where the voice of reason commands? Why run helter skelter like windswept sand in my native land. Why life so hard. So sweet but yet so hard. And I, I cannot even show them. The phantoms are still bound to the skeletons, hidden in deep dungeons. Of my cold stone heart. I lean ... my back against the door. I hide. I feint. I parry queries with wit or deceit. And and make thrust to distract the enemy-friend.

From the dawn of my days, You, all of you, have been my winds ...
The winds that dry and torment, whip and mock & howl and throw u crying on the sand
The winds that drive you and make you fly, that fill your sail and push you on
The winds that bring rain, that you grow and green, bear fruit
The winds that take the seeds away when you have borne your fruit
The winds that sing lullabies on lone desert nights, cart drunken sweet visions and smells
from faraway, unknown, unheard of oasis caravans
The winds that churn you up, howling screeching, tormenting you with their pagan, filthy manic dance
From the dawn of my days, You, all of you, have been my winds,
I, the gypsy after your hawk trend ...
Now, how can I be calm land again, at your new command?

There was just him and then, later his echo to save me
To hold me back from heights so glorious
And pull me back from plunging gorges
To try to keep me on the human plane
The sparrow-ling held back from hypnotic flight of Eagles
But the were swept away with the Winds ...


He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
-- W.H. Auden