Words are deluding me. There is excitement, anxiety, surprise, joy and lots and lots of love all at the same time. Overwhelming is all I can sum up!
My status message on gtalk for the last one month: who knows what the tide may bring!
I felt that the phrase somehow applied to my life and it actually happened.
The tide brings in this guy from saat samandar paar to my door step at 1 am on a regular depressing 17th December morning. And suddenly all the gloom, all the insecurities and depression I had had been feeling for the last few days vanish leaving a small white trail of smiles behind.
So I saw him, felt him in my physical space after three long years. And all the wait seemed to have consumated into a feeling of relief. All of it was worth it. It felt just right.
It was the best brithday ever. Romantic, surreal and probably better than all the ways in which I fantasised meeting him. And now I'm happy and excited as usual!
Thanks all you guys for plotting this birthday surprise!
Somu and Shrav I need not thank u guys because I believe that one good turn deserves another :-)
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Why????
Am is supposed to feel this way at the most buzzing time of the year?
My birthday, Christmas, Sabir's wedding, Aanchal & Shravan coming & New Year.
This time of the year is happening and I've always made the most of it. Cut ot this year. I'm anxious, upset, irritated, confused, frustrated and unexcited!!
How can I be like this?
I really don't understand my problem.
My birthday, Christmas, Sabir's wedding, Aanchal & Shravan coming & New Year.
This time of the year is happening and I've always made the most of it. Cut ot this year. I'm anxious, upset, irritated, confused, frustrated and unexcited!!
How can I be like this?
I really don't understand my problem.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Lives
Do you understand?
There are lives inside
The wild days
Of the wild fields,
Of the wildly growing
Weeds outside.
There are demons
Climbing the walls
Of my skin.
And serpents crawling
Down the aisles
Of my old mind.
For I was here before,
Long time ago.
Born in the body
Of an eagle king.
My palace had pillars
Of freedom and
My fields were full with silver.
I drew no envy,
Called no wrath,
My treasure was
Hidden away
In the sky.
In my times
There was no war.
My soldiers were poets,
Painters and scores
Of blessed women.
And my courtiers
Sang and laughed and soared
To perform a dance of lore.
I had a lover I took to bed,
The only one I took to death.
I loved her till I loved no more
But abandoned her
For a greater love before
Other forces took over
The kingdom of wings.
Then in one life
I was born a slave.
In the other
A soldier with arms.
I overtook the master
And killed my enemies.
So now I overthrow my shame,
Of incestuous hours,
And swindling pleasures
And new figures
Touched upon.
Of the penny I stole,
The child I killed,
Of the death I saw
In drying lawn.
Then I saw some faces
Unmasked and bare.
Took a diversion
To somewhere
And landed in a dream
With shining love,
With flowing wine
And stars above.
I awake after ages
In the next one
To walk up the stairs
Of the heaven of smoke.
And I trip
Several times over
Before I let go.
There are lives inside
The wild days
Of the wild fields,
Of the wildly growing
Weeds outside.
There are demons
Climbing the walls
Of my skin.
And serpents crawling
Down the aisles
Of my old mind.
For I was here before,
Long time ago.
Born in the body
Of an eagle king.
My palace had pillars
Of freedom and
My fields were full with silver.
I drew no envy,
Called no wrath,
My treasure was
Hidden away
In the sky.
In my times
There was no war.
My soldiers were poets,
Painters and scores
Of blessed women.
And my courtiers
Sang and laughed and soared
To perform a dance of lore.
I had a lover I took to bed,
The only one I took to death.
I loved her till I loved no more
But abandoned her
For a greater love before
Other forces took over
The kingdom of wings.
Then in one life
I was born a slave.
In the other
A soldier with arms.
I overtook the master
And killed my enemies.
So now I overthrow my shame,
Of incestuous hours,
And swindling pleasures
And new figures
Touched upon.
Of the penny I stole,
The child I killed,
Of the death I saw
In drying lawn.
Then I saw some faces
Unmasked and bare.
Took a diversion
To somewhere
And landed in a dream
With shining love,
With flowing wine
And stars above.
I awake after ages
In the next one
To walk up the stairs
Of the heaven of smoke.
And I trip
Several times over
Before I let go.
Friday, November 24, 2006
pen on paper
Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life
- Mark Twain
There are times when I don’t want what I’m chasing and times when I want to chase something that isn’t there.
I can easily have a day where all I do is have some beer, listen to my favourite music, sit by the sea side, and end the day with a classic movie. I don’t want to be sitting in office, staring at the comp and deciding how to phrase the sentences in my intro.
There are times when all I want to do is write poetry and read poetry. Not sit down and file a story.
Most often I’m given a topic to write on and I enjoy it. But there are times when I want my mind to let go of constrains and put together something that I chanced upon through my mind’s wandering.
There are so many experiences I want to write about and so many unknown things I want to discover while I write. And I’m aware that I might wake up one day and end up writing a whole book on something that I never dreamt about; or may just get lost in oblivion without writing a single significant line. Yet I spend hours thinking what I should write about.
Writing is not putting down thoughts as such. It is more about the evolution of thoughts into its own words; words that were lingering somewhere in your subconscious but never found their way out in the real world. I think I need to be intoxicated big time to be able to write like a dream and at times I feel that I should probably just open some pages inside me and show them to the world on a Sunday afternoon.
Whenever I talk I feel like I’m at loss of words. Words fall out of my head quite often, and then I end up making no sense by the time I fish them out from the sea of my consciousness. But when I write words just flow. They fall straight out of my head onto paper.
Writing is magical. It creates a figure, out of the smoke that probably came out through your ears, when you were thinking of what to do with the cramped space in your brain. And then thoughts just blow into the world, forming shapes made out of smoky clouds, and touch the senses of those who walk through it.
At the end of the day, writing makes me happy. It makes me feel alive.
- Mark Twain
There are times when I don’t want what I’m chasing and times when I want to chase something that isn’t there.
I can easily have a day where all I do is have some beer, listen to my favourite music, sit by the sea side, and end the day with a classic movie. I don’t want to be sitting in office, staring at the comp and deciding how to phrase the sentences in my intro.
There are times when all I want to do is write poetry and read poetry. Not sit down and file a story.
Most often I’m given a topic to write on and I enjoy it. But there are times when I want my mind to let go of constrains and put together something that I chanced upon through my mind’s wandering.
There are so many experiences I want to write about and so many unknown things I want to discover while I write. And I’m aware that I might wake up one day and end up writing a whole book on something that I never dreamt about; or may just get lost in oblivion without writing a single significant line. Yet I spend hours thinking what I should write about.
Writing is not putting down thoughts as such. It is more about the evolution of thoughts into its own words; words that were lingering somewhere in your subconscious but never found their way out in the real world. I think I need to be intoxicated big time to be able to write like a dream and at times I feel that I should probably just open some pages inside me and show them to the world on a Sunday afternoon.
Whenever I talk I feel like I’m at loss of words. Words fall out of my head quite often, and then I end up making no sense by the time I fish them out from the sea of my consciousness. But when I write words just flow. They fall straight out of my head onto paper.
Writing is magical. It creates a figure, out of the smoke that probably came out through your ears, when you were thinking of what to do with the cramped space in your brain. And then thoughts just blow into the world, forming shapes made out of smoky clouds, and touch the senses of those who walk through it.
At the end of the day, writing makes me happy. It makes me feel alive.
Monday, November 06, 2006
The last sip is over
The last sip is over
But the spark’s still burning.
I am living each night.
Twisting and turning
Inside.
The night is about to end
And the day is yet to come.
I’m in transit,
In the middle of some
Dark and light.
The highway is long
And the journey, a mirage.
I disappear in my own sight
Ride on a carriage
To nowhere.
There’s a wild child
Inside of me
Shaking up the stillness
Free
Of its confinement.
Go on,
Don’t stop.
There’s nothing called eternity.
Go on till you drop
Below the ground.
Love is a sweet picture
Of indulgence.
An obsession with shadows
And an emergence
Of self reflections.
Then music lends
A hand to your imagination.
Triggers
Cords of unsolicited ramification
Of a boundless mind.
And you take the last sip
But the spark’s still burning.
And you dive into the night,
Twisting and turning
Inside.
But the spark’s still burning.
I am living each night.
Twisting and turning
Inside.
The night is about to end
And the day is yet to come.
I’m in transit,
In the middle of some
Dark and light.
The highway is long
And the journey, a mirage.
I disappear in my own sight
Ride on a carriage
To nowhere.
There’s a wild child
Inside of me
Shaking up the stillness
Free
Of its confinement.
Go on,
Don’t stop.
There’s nothing called eternity.
Go on till you drop
Below the ground.
Love is a sweet picture
Of indulgence.
An obsession with shadows
And an emergence
Of self reflections.
Then music lends
A hand to your imagination.
Triggers
Cords of unsolicited ramification
Of a boundless mind.
And you take the last sip
But the spark’s still burning.
And you dive into the night,
Twisting and turning
Inside.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
In the pink skies
In the pink skies
I saw you come.
I saw you cry,
I saw you moan,
Elated but shy
Of shrouding clouds
So dark that
None can see
The longing
In my eye.
Tied up in snakes
That name
My love evil
And wrapped
In shreds
Etching out
Just one way
To find what
I’m looking for.
But I’m lost
On a path that leads
To my kind of love.
I say I’m your woman
And you’re my lady.
Your chocolate eyes,
Your dark eye brow,
The waves in your hair,
Make me crawl
Into your arms.
But who can give
My thing a name?
People just find
This love too strange.
I touch you where
Only my breath can go
In there,
On the right side
Of your body,
Your soul.
Every inch of skin
Guides my finger tips,
And I travel
To worlds in you.
And what do they
Call my kind of love?
For I make
My kind of love
Out there,
In the pink skies.
I saw you come.
I saw you cry,
I saw you moan,
Elated but shy
Of shrouding clouds
So dark that
None can see
The longing
In my eye.
Tied up in snakes
That name
My love evil
And wrapped
In shreds
Etching out
Just one way
To find what
I’m looking for.
But I’m lost
On a path that leads
To my kind of love.
I say I’m your woman
And you’re my lady.
Your chocolate eyes,
Your dark eye brow,
The waves in your hair,
Make me crawl
Into your arms.
But who can give
My thing a name?
People just find
This love too strange.
I touch you where
Only my breath can go
In there,
On the right side
Of your body,
Your soul.
Every inch of skin
Guides my finger tips,
And I travel
To worlds in you.
And what do they
Call my kind of love?
For I make
My kind of love
Out there,
In the pink skies.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Follow me when it ends
There is no respite
In bringing you back to life.
It’s over, the fairy tale
Without an end.
There’s always a path
You leave behind
But there’s none coming up ahead.
As all the ways you walk must die
And you follow me when it ends.
There is speed,
And there is sound.
But there is no ground
To come around.
I’ll call you when I kill
My shadows,
And crash into blinding lights.
In bringing you back to life.
It’s over, the fairy tale
Without an end.
There’s always a path
You leave behind
But there’s none coming up ahead.
As all the ways you walk must die
And you follow me when it ends.
There is speed,
And there is sound.
But there is no ground
To come around.
I’ll call you when I kill
My shadows,
And crash into blinding lights.
Monday, September 11, 2006
I undress again
I undress again
But don’t bare myself
To the stranger.
In the yellow cab
Then the silver car,
From the staircase of the old house
To the curtained corner.
Deception is born
From liberty taken
To cage weak freedom.
But the distance is too long
And time passes so slowly,
Tiring virtues that hide away
Under the weight of mistakes
Too often made,
Impossible to erase.
I’ve gone too far too soon.
So I take my shoes off now
And put my feet up on the table.
Now my body longs
For a touch of truth
Worthy of satiating the restless
Needs of my mortal being.
My desires long forsaken,
I stand at the threshold
Of complete surrender.
A devil waiting to lose out
To a sage in disguise.
But don’t bare myself
To the stranger.
In the yellow cab
Then the silver car,
From the staircase of the old house
To the curtained corner.
Deception is born
From liberty taken
To cage weak freedom.
But the distance is too long
And time passes so slowly,
Tiring virtues that hide away
Under the weight of mistakes
Too often made,
Impossible to erase.
I’ve gone too far too soon.
So I take my shoes off now
And put my feet up on the table.
Now my body longs
For a touch of truth
Worthy of satiating the restless
Needs of my mortal being.
My desires long forsaken,
I stand at the threshold
Of complete surrender.
A devil waiting to lose out
To a sage in disguise.
They are all over me
They are all over me.
Biting into every inch of my skin.
Creeping up my eyes and nose.
Giving me no space to breathe.
I lie in their blanket,
Safe.
There are places to go
And dreams to live.
But for now I want to just be
Hiding away in oblivion.
Not running for cover,
Letting the bugs take over.
Biting into every inch of my skin.
Creeping up my eyes and nose.
Giving me no space to breathe.
I lie in their blanket,
Safe.
There are places to go
And dreams to live.
But for now I want to just be
Hiding away in oblivion.
Not running for cover,
Letting the bugs take over.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Hysteria and love…
A dreaded combination! Hysteria and love combine at this one place my friends. Totos! I’m sure all those who were present for ‘The return of Totos’ this Tuesday know exactly what I mean. Even as I write this I’m constantly aware that I’m going to walk into Totos tonight to have yet another frenzied five hours of awesome music and fun. And then again tomorrow, and then several more nights will follow.
(so writing about Totos at this point in time is inevitable)
I hope my pals (I need not name you guys) who have waited desperately in the past few months to let the music sink into them, as they take their seats in the home-like comforts of their regular haunt day after day, are finally feeling fulfilled. But I know you guys will agree to what I’m going to say next. This joy and fulfilment seems to have taken on a new vigour. I feel renewed energy when I step into Totos now. I jump, sing, scream and interact with several people around like crazy. I seem to have lost control.
I value the place more than ever before, have fallen in love with it all over again and have realised that no other pub in the world can take the place of Totos.
The truth though is that this garage pub is what its regular’s make it. People who come here know their music, love their music and sing along like us J How can we live without the regulars. The older lot of MM, Ramu, Faresh (as annoying as he is loves Totos) and the new ones like Shankar Mahadevan and company, Auri’s stalker, Chris Martin, brooding faresh, blue faresh etc etc. What would we do without them? Tell me, tell me.
Totos is a whole world in itself. It is a community of people who love their music and the dimly-lit small stingy smoky garage pub at Pali Naka. Cheers to Totos! Cheers to us! We love Totos and we love us!
(so writing about Totos at this point in time is inevitable)
I hope my pals (I need not name you guys) who have waited desperately in the past few months to let the music sink into them, as they take their seats in the home-like comforts of their regular haunt day after day, are finally feeling fulfilled. But I know you guys will agree to what I’m going to say next. This joy and fulfilment seems to have taken on a new vigour. I feel renewed energy when I step into Totos now. I jump, sing, scream and interact with several people around like crazy. I seem to have lost control.
I value the place more than ever before, have fallen in love with it all over again and have realised that no other pub in the world can take the place of Totos.
The truth though is that this garage pub is what its regular’s make it. People who come here know their music, love their music and sing along like us J How can we live without the regulars. The older lot of MM, Ramu, Faresh (as annoying as he is loves Totos) and the new ones like Shankar Mahadevan and company, Auri’s stalker, Chris Martin, brooding faresh, blue faresh etc etc. What would we do without them? Tell me, tell me.
Totos is a whole world in itself. It is a community of people who love their music and the dimly-lit small stingy smoky garage pub at Pali Naka. Cheers to Totos! Cheers to us! We love Totos and we love us!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Sleeping woes
Sleeping has become a task in the past few weeks. While sometimes I fall asleep with a smile on my face, most times fear plays games with me from the dark of my room. I lie down on the same old bed spread on the floor, night after night after night, wondering about things that make no sense. It's not a disorder, it's just a reflection of overwhelming emotions.
Most of the times I feel good about the way my day has gone but I feel sort of empty when I stare at the ceiling and watch the fan spin around itself. I see dreams that disturb me, others that I feel ashamed of and still others that stir the peace of my mind. There are skeletons in my closet. There are demons in my thoughts. My happy mind is clouded by my own flaws and discomfiture. I miss people whose touch makes a whole world of a difference to my state of mind. I miss you and I know I can never see you again. I miss you too and I’m waiting to see you. And I also miss you even though I see you all the time. But I don’t want to acknowledge that I’m missing the faith and the joy of self comforting more than anything else.
I laugh and I cry to let go of the emotional barrenness. I don’t want to be judged. I don’t want to be right or wrong. I just want to be. Life is just crawling and I’m just allowing it to. I hope to bring some meaning to the act of sleeping and the act of waking up next morning with reasons to spread smiles.
Most of the times I feel good about the way my day has gone but I feel sort of empty when I stare at the ceiling and watch the fan spin around itself. I see dreams that disturb me, others that I feel ashamed of and still others that stir the peace of my mind. There are skeletons in my closet. There are demons in my thoughts. My happy mind is clouded by my own flaws and discomfiture. I miss people whose touch makes a whole world of a difference to my state of mind. I miss you and I know I can never see you again. I miss you too and I’m waiting to see you. And I also miss you even though I see you all the time. But I don’t want to acknowledge that I’m missing the faith and the joy of self comforting more than anything else.
I laugh and I cry to let go of the emotional barrenness. I don’t want to be judged. I don’t want to be right or wrong. I just want to be. Life is just crawling and I’m just allowing it to. I hope to bring some meaning to the act of sleeping and the act of waking up next morning with reasons to spread smiles.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
A...
bike trip to Kerela.
A journey to East India.
A walk through the old lanes of Kolkota.
Sit in Shillong’s café’s with someone playing country music in the background.
Camel rides in the deserts of Rajasthan.
A book to read in the winter of Dalhousie.
Staring at the vast expanse in Ladakh.
Trekking up to Kasubai peak with a group of friends.
Paragliding, skiing, surfing.
Driving through the roads leading to some faraway village.
Looking for animals in the forests of Madhya Pradesh.
Taking a flight.
Feeling snow on the skin.
I yearn to travel because it makes me free.
A journey to East India.
A walk through the old lanes of Kolkota.
Sit in Shillong’s café’s with someone playing country music in the background.
Camel rides in the deserts of Rajasthan.
A book to read in the winter of Dalhousie.
Staring at the vast expanse in Ladakh.
Trekking up to Kasubai peak with a group of friends.
Paragliding, skiing, surfing.
Driving through the roads leading to some faraway village.
Looking for animals in the forests of Madhya Pradesh.
Taking a flight.
Feeling snow on the skin.
I yearn to travel because it makes me free.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Mowing
They were mowing the lawns. Cutting blades of grass and getting them into shape.
This is how they condition us. Trim us to the ways of the society. Make us look the way the world would find us good and presentable. Why don’t they let us grow wild? Just shape up the way we want to. Why do we care about how we are supposed to be and be responsible for what the men think of us? Being held accountable for someone else’s morality is unfair. Harassment in form of touching, passing remarks or abusing by someone whose mind is perverted is not my responsibility. Then why are conditioned to be shameful of being objectified by men? Don’t men feel ashamed when they harass someone?
Or they feel proud because it’s such a man thing to do? I went through Pukar’s gender and space study last week and it spread out a number of questions in front of me. Space that you live in makes a whole difference to the feeling of security in ones mind. We feel more comfortable in a well-lit room than in a dark area. We feel comfortable when there are more women around us. We feel more comfortable when we are on familiar stations. Women feel safer when the infrastructure and the make of the city are designed to suit them.
When the streets and stations are well lit, the shops are open and there is movement on the road we tend to feel safer. This is something that Mumbai does offer its women. It is always alive making movement more comfortable for the girls. So is this the reason why women tend to feel safer in Mumbai? Not the only reason. Like Sociologist Shilap Phadke says, “It’s all in the mind.” Women with the right attitude, can force changes in spaces around them. We need to ask for security measures, better lighting and should be prepared to stand up for ourselves.
A city that shuts down at 11.30 in the night is a sign of failure to maintain law and order by the administration. Bangalore cannot boast of being a safe city because it does not allow freedom and does not take the responsibility of offering security to its citizens after a stipulated time in the night.
I believe that the Mumbai infrastructure makes women feel safer and I also believe that women in Mumbai have impacted the safety levels of the city with their work culture, traveling late nights and moving about freely.
This is how they condition us. Trim us to the ways of the society. Make us look the way the world would find us good and presentable. Why don’t they let us grow wild? Just shape up the way we want to. Why do we care about how we are supposed to be and be responsible for what the men think of us? Being held accountable for someone else’s morality is unfair. Harassment in form of touching, passing remarks or abusing by someone whose mind is perverted is not my responsibility. Then why are conditioned to be shameful of being objectified by men? Don’t men feel ashamed when they harass someone?
Or they feel proud because it’s such a man thing to do? I went through Pukar’s gender and space study last week and it spread out a number of questions in front of me. Space that you live in makes a whole difference to the feeling of security in ones mind. We feel more comfortable in a well-lit room than in a dark area. We feel comfortable when there are more women around us. We feel more comfortable when we are on familiar stations. Women feel safer when the infrastructure and the make of the city are designed to suit them.
When the streets and stations are well lit, the shops are open and there is movement on the road we tend to feel safer. This is something that Mumbai does offer its women. It is always alive making movement more comfortable for the girls. So is this the reason why women tend to feel safer in Mumbai? Not the only reason. Like Sociologist Shilap Phadke says, “It’s all in the mind.” Women with the right attitude, can force changes in spaces around them. We need to ask for security measures, better lighting and should be prepared to stand up for ourselves.
A city that shuts down at 11.30 in the night is a sign of failure to maintain law and order by the administration. Bangalore cannot boast of being a safe city because it does not allow freedom and does not take the responsibility of offering security to its citizens after a stipulated time in the night.
I believe that the Mumbai infrastructure makes women feel safer and I also believe that women in Mumbai have impacted the safety levels of the city with their work culture, traveling late nights and moving about freely.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Movies unlimited
Krissh, Corporate, Golmaal, and Omakara. These are the last four movies I saw (find it appropriate not to mention a certain disastrous sequel to Hera Pheri, which I saw before the release of these movies, in this list) last month, and I must say that this month I have been thoroughly entertained by a variety of movies that have definitely satiated my movie hungry tummy. All these movies have their sore points but I would not want to talk about them today (owe it to my super happy and positive filmi soul).
Let’s talk about Krissh. India’s answer to Hollywood Superhero flicks and a good one to say the least. Complete with great special effects, excellent action sequences topped with Bollywood ishtyle muzik. It was fun to watch Hrithik elevate to a superhero. Shot in swanky locales of Singapore, Rakesh Roshan’s publicity and marketing of the movie were excellent. Hat’s off Rakesh Roshan for attempting to make this kind of movie and doing a good job of it.
Corporate. Not anywhere close to Bhandarkar’s superhit version of the Page 3 life, this movie takes on the inside workings of the corporate world in the country. It depicts the interrelation between politics, corporatism and branding. Though it brings out the super money hungry corporate heads and how these top business men can fool the customers and can go to any extent to sell their product. Bipasha who becomes the scapegoat of the dirty games of corporate big wigs fails to raise her character to a higher level. I enjoyed the shantraj ki chal played by various characters of the movie but my heart went out to the character who was besotted by Bipasha and loses his job in the bargain.
Golmaal. A decent movie which becomes really funny by the presence of really funny guys like Arshad Warsi, Tushar Kappoor, Ajay Devgan and Sharman Joshi. It’s a pleasant change if you have watched the cheesy slapstick attempts at comedy like Phir Hera Pheri and Pyare Mohan (God why, why did I watch these movies?). Tusshar’s incessant utterances of the dumb man’s lingo were hilarious and so were the dialogues mouthed by Arshad and Sharman. Man, these guys have such great comic timing that they can lift a movie lying in the dungeons to mountain tops. Director Rohan Shetty does a good job of this movie remade from the hit Gujarati play Aflatoon.
Omkara. I haven’t read Othello (I know! Shame on me!). So what I will say is without Shakespeare’s great piece of tragedy at the back of my mind. The movie gets you involved. It picks you up from your seat and puts you straight into the UP village where Omkara lives. All the actors fit the part. Vivek, Kareena, Naseer and Konkona make the most of what they have been given. Langda Tyagi alias Saif Ali Khan! He grows on you. You will execrate him and want to kill him with your own hands by the end of the movie. You get a feeling that Vishal has got so involved with Saif’s character that he has failed to breathe life into the character of Omkara. Where is the pathos of someone who in his greatness lets his own complexes and lack of trust get in the way of his love for Dolly? Ajay has done well but you do not see the gradual change in his character as the movie moves ahead. All said and done, Omkara will always remain one step behind Maqbool but you can’t miss this movie if you love cinema. I think I’m going to watch this film again to let it sink. But the movie gets so brutal in the end that it disturbs me.
And yes, I can’t fail to applaud Bharadwaj for the beauty of the last scene. It is a concluding scene that I can never forget and it is sure to haunt me for a long time.
Let’s talk about Krissh. India’s answer to Hollywood Superhero flicks and a good one to say the least. Complete with great special effects, excellent action sequences topped with Bollywood ishtyle muzik. It was fun to watch Hrithik elevate to a superhero. Shot in swanky locales of Singapore, Rakesh Roshan’s publicity and marketing of the movie were excellent. Hat’s off Rakesh Roshan for attempting to make this kind of movie and doing a good job of it.
Corporate. Not anywhere close to Bhandarkar’s superhit version of the Page 3 life, this movie takes on the inside workings of the corporate world in the country. It depicts the interrelation between politics, corporatism and branding. Though it brings out the super money hungry corporate heads and how these top business men can fool the customers and can go to any extent to sell their product. Bipasha who becomes the scapegoat of the dirty games of corporate big wigs fails to raise her character to a higher level. I enjoyed the shantraj ki chal played by various characters of the movie but my heart went out to the character who was besotted by Bipasha and loses his job in the bargain.
Golmaal. A decent movie which becomes really funny by the presence of really funny guys like Arshad Warsi, Tushar Kappoor, Ajay Devgan and Sharman Joshi. It’s a pleasant change if you have watched the cheesy slapstick attempts at comedy like Phir Hera Pheri and Pyare Mohan (God why, why did I watch these movies?). Tusshar’s incessant utterances of the dumb man’s lingo were hilarious and so were the dialogues mouthed by Arshad and Sharman. Man, these guys have such great comic timing that they can lift a movie lying in the dungeons to mountain tops. Director Rohan Shetty does a good job of this movie remade from the hit Gujarati play Aflatoon.
Omkara. I haven’t read Othello (I know! Shame on me!). So what I will say is without Shakespeare’s great piece of tragedy at the back of my mind. The movie gets you involved. It picks you up from your seat and puts you straight into the UP village where Omkara lives. All the actors fit the part. Vivek, Kareena, Naseer and Konkona make the most of what they have been given. Langda Tyagi alias Saif Ali Khan! He grows on you. You will execrate him and want to kill him with your own hands by the end of the movie. You get a feeling that Vishal has got so involved with Saif’s character that he has failed to breathe life into the character of Omkara. Where is the pathos of someone who in his greatness lets his own complexes and lack of trust get in the way of his love for Dolly? Ajay has done well but you do not see the gradual change in his character as the movie moves ahead. All said and done, Omkara will always remain one step behind Maqbool but you can’t miss this movie if you love cinema. I think I’m going to watch this film again to let it sink. But the movie gets so brutal in the end that it disturbs me.
And yes, I can’t fail to applaud Bharadwaj for the beauty of the last scene. It is a concluding scene that I can never forget and it is sure to haunt me for a long time.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Dear blogspot,
Thank God I've got you back. I thought I'm going to loose you forever. The last few days of separation from you my dear journal have been tough. I would type the blog address in Internet Explorer everyday hoping for you to come back into my life but each time it would end in disappointment. I tried getting in touch with all your friends but I couldn’t get in touch with them either.
I know they needed to beef up security after the blasts but they cannot curb the freedom of expression. They can’t choke you if you want to make your self heard. Are we living in a democracy anymore?
Yes, there are some communal journals within you but instead of blocking all the blogs just focus on these politicians who come out in the open, brainwash people and drive them into communal disharmony. This is taking policing too far.
May be it was mistake. May be they didn’t want to block you completely. Why don’t they monitor the content on the internet constantly instead of blocking you after a terrorist attack has taken place or a tragedy has struck? What about the other times? Do they have to be woken up from stupor by blasting some bombs in their ears?
Those who have eyes shall see.
Those who have the ears shall hear.
Meanwhile I’m just too happy to have you back in my life!
I know they needed to beef up security after the blasts but they cannot curb the freedom of expression. They can’t choke you if you want to make your self heard. Are we living in a democracy anymore?
Yes, there are some communal journals within you but instead of blocking all the blogs just focus on these politicians who come out in the open, brainwash people and drive them into communal disharmony. This is taking policing too far.
May be it was mistake. May be they didn’t want to block you completely. Why don’t they monitor the content on the internet constantly instead of blocking you after a terrorist attack has taken place or a tragedy has struck? What about the other times? Do they have to be woken up from stupor by blasting some bombs in their ears?
Those who have eyes shall see.
Those who have the ears shall hear.
Meanwhile I’m just too happy to have you back in my life!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Loss & Spirit
Yesterday I heard the news of the bomblasts. My work in office was over. I was not supposed to cover any of the events that had occured so I headed home. My mind was working over time though. The chain of events that had taken place played in my minds. I was attending several frantic calls and messeges from my loved ones. Through all this, and the traffic on the road and in my mind I made my way home.
The images I saw disturbed me and the reports from my colleagues who were at the hospital shook me. The ambulances and the crowds i encountered on my way home juggled inside. I was sitting, preoccupied when my friend asked, "Have you ever regretted losing something?"
"NO" was my blank reply.
What does material loss mean? People were losing their limbs, their hands, their peace of my mind from the traumatic events they had witnessed, and losing lives as we were going through this mundane conversation. Material loss, including losing stuff that one bought from his or her first salary, gifts from loved ones and things with which a tag of fond memories are attached, they just don't seem to be important at all when you see what people have lost in this world.
No, I don't regret losing anything in my life, because for me the value of the people I love is so much that nothing else comes close. Losing someone I loved the most has taught me that nothing else is as important to me in this world. If people lose their house, or everything that they have earned in their lifetime, they can still pick up the pieces of their shattered dream and build a new life. Material loss is fades when you witness the loss of a person in your life.
What must the blast victims be going through? They have lost their body parts, hearing abilities, their trust, lives of loved ones but they will cope, they will continure to live. The loss though will remain. One will know what loss is when one experiences the true meaning of losing something so valuable that no material can match up to it. The void will remain but life will go on.
The Spirit
Having lived in Mumbai for a good amount of time I can clearly say that the spirit that Mumbai (as cliche as it may sound) has, very few cities in the world have.
Through floods....riots...bomb blasts....it's the people of the city that amaze me. I have experienced the floods and been through the bomb blasts....have heard a hundred experiences apart from my own and have not heard anybody say, ' I was in need of help but i didn't get it.'
Slum dwellers near the railway track came out of their houses to carry the injured people out of the burnt compartments...people who had vehicles..including cars, taxis and riks carried the injured to the hospital...nobody waited for the police..or the ambulance to arrive....they did not get put off by the gore...instead they lifted bodies lying in a pool of blood...staining themselves...and using their resources.
When the mobile phone networks were jammed people offered their phones to each other....when the roads jammed after everybody abandoned the local trains last nite...people came out on the road and distributed water & food to the stranded people...
And the next day people reported to their office, last night's memories giving them more strength to go on the next day. Some may say that people have learnt to live with it...may be..but it still is amazing how the city never sleeps, comes back to it's feet every time it's knocked down. People have big hearts out here. They do not live in their own sweet world, they live as a community and not like snooty self obssessed individuals.
If you experience the real Bombay you would fall in love with this city, and it's sad that this city has had to face so much through all these years and is in such bad shape.
The images I saw disturbed me and the reports from my colleagues who were at the hospital shook me. The ambulances and the crowds i encountered on my way home juggled inside. I was sitting, preoccupied when my friend asked, "Have you ever regretted losing something?"
"NO" was my blank reply.
What does material loss mean? People were losing their limbs, their hands, their peace of my mind from the traumatic events they had witnessed, and losing lives as we were going through this mundane conversation. Material loss, including losing stuff that one bought from his or her first salary, gifts from loved ones and things with which a tag of fond memories are attached, they just don't seem to be important at all when you see what people have lost in this world.
No, I don't regret losing anything in my life, because for me the value of the people I love is so much that nothing else comes close. Losing someone I loved the most has taught me that nothing else is as important to me in this world. If people lose their house, or everything that they have earned in their lifetime, they can still pick up the pieces of their shattered dream and build a new life. Material loss is fades when you witness the loss of a person in your life.
What must the blast victims be going through? They have lost their body parts, hearing abilities, their trust, lives of loved ones but they will cope, they will continure to live. The loss though will remain. One will know what loss is when one experiences the true meaning of losing something so valuable that no material can match up to it. The void will remain but life will go on.
The Spirit
Having lived in Mumbai for a good amount of time I can clearly say that the spirit that Mumbai (as cliche as it may sound) has, very few cities in the world have.
Through floods....riots...bomb blasts....it's the people of the city that amaze me. I have experienced the floods and been through the bomb blasts....have heard a hundred experiences apart from my own and have not heard anybody say, ' I was in need of help but i didn't get it.'
Slum dwellers near the railway track came out of their houses to carry the injured people out of the burnt compartments...people who had vehicles..including cars, taxis and riks carried the injured to the hospital...nobody waited for the police..or the ambulance to arrive....they did not get put off by the gore...instead they lifted bodies lying in a pool of blood...staining themselves...and using their resources.
When the mobile phone networks were jammed people offered their phones to each other....when the roads jammed after everybody abandoned the local trains last nite...people came out on the road and distributed water & food to the stranded people...
And the next day people reported to their office, last night's memories giving them more strength to go on the next day. Some may say that people have learnt to live with it...may be..but it still is amazing how the city never sleeps, comes back to it's feet every time it's knocked down. People have big hearts out here. They do not live in their own sweet world, they live as a community and not like snooty self obssessed individuals.
If you experience the real Bombay you would fall in love with this city, and it's sad that this city has had to face so much through all these years and is in such bad shape.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
You deserve it!!
He won the golden ball!
I'm so glad he got a second parting gift after the red card he got during the last ten minutes of his last world cup game.
This somehow eases the pain if not erase the wounds from the memory. He deserves it!!
Zizou's Record
With the French national team:
FIFA World Cup Winner: 1998
Appearances: 1998, 2002
European Championship Winner: 2000
Appearances: 1996, 2000, 2004
With Juventus:
European Super Cup: 1996
Intercontinental Cup: 1996
Serie A champions: 1996/1997, 1997/1998
Italian Super Cup: 1997
With Real Madrid:
UEFA Champions League: 2001/2002
European Super Cup: 2002
Intercontinental Cup: 2002
Spanish League - La Liga champions: 2002/2003
Personal honours:
FIFA World Player of the Year: 1998, 2000, 2003
European Footballer of the Year (Ballon d'Or): 1998
And other records:
I'm so glad he got a second parting gift after the red card he got during the last ten minutes of his last world cup game.
This somehow eases the pain if not erase the wounds from the memory. He deserves it!!
Zizou's Record
With the French national team:
FIFA World Cup Winner: 1998
Appearances: 1998, 2002
European Championship Winner: 2000
Appearances: 1996, 2000, 2004
With Juventus:
European Super Cup: 1996
Intercontinental Cup: 1996
Serie A champions: 1996/1997, 1997/1998
Italian Super Cup: 1997
With Real Madrid:
UEFA Champions League: 2001/2002
European Super Cup: 2002
Intercontinental Cup: 2002
Spanish League - La Liga champions: 2002/2003
Personal honours:
FIFA World Player of the Year: 1998, 2000, 2003
European Footballer of the Year (Ballon d'Or): 1998
And other records:
- Zizou has got 14 red cards in his career.
- He was suspended for five matches while playing for Juventis in the Champions League match in 2000 for butting a german player.
- He had attacked a Saudi Arabian player in a World Cup 2008 match and was shown the red card.
- He was the first French player to get a red card in World Cup.
- He had punched an opponent during his early career for making fun of his ghetto origins.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Goodbye Zidane
This is one scene in the history of football that a football fan in any part of the world would hate to see. This kind of an end to an illustrious career of a legendry footballer like Zindane is a shameful sight. Zindane who was in good form in this world cup did a great job to guide his team to the final of the world cup. He came back from retirement and the nation had pinned theri hopes on this man. He did well; scored a goal in the last two matches to put his team into winning positions and so did his team. The french loss is sad but Zidane's exit is the saddest thing to have happened to him and his team. What was he thinking when he butted his head against the Materazzi when provoked?
Though it would be unfair to remember a great player like him for a red card he got in the last match of his career in the world cup final, it is inevitable that he will be remembered for this exit. It's sad but inevitable. His glorious career will always be shrouded by this controversial exit. But Zizou you will always be one of the greatest players of the game.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Stairs
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
RAINBOW
This is the first photograph in a series of pictures showing the beauty and spirit of Mumbai that I will be posting from time to time.
I can never forget this rainbow I saw in a surprise downpour in the month of March. I walked out of my office to enjoy the rain when I spotted the rainbow. The last time I had seen one was when I was in school. I felt so overwhelmed by the sight of this beautiful rainbow that I went on clicking spree.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Back in action
I had been down and out for the whole of last week (thanks to my generous room mates who passed on their viral infection to me) so it feels great to be back in action.
I feel like I was in a trance for four days that I was bedridden...weak and worn out. The only thing that kept me going was the football world cup...it managed to cheer me and keep my spirits up through all these days.
Football action has been amazing...when the world cup was about to start my favourites were Brazil, England & Germany....with a hope that Spain, Italy & Argentina will manage to make a mark in this world cup. These 3 countries have definitely given me more to cheer about. With England and Brazil still warming up....Argentina impressed me completely. Argentina's 6-0 performance against Serbia & Montenegro was absolutely fantastic! They have maintained a steady performance since then if not as exhilerating as the 6-0 show.
Their team work has been spot on...the passing (who can forget the stunning goal by Cambiasso against Serbia when they scored after 54 passes between 8 different players) & dodging.
Several players kick ass!! My favourites???
Messi- Labelled as the next big thing & the cute 19-yr-old. The ball sticks to his foot. He can tackle 5 players and get through the defence on the move. Worth a crush!
Cambiasso- Stocky and strong...delivers some good kicks.
Requelme- Awesome tackling and coordination with other forwards.
Tavez- Can peneterate strong defence with great speed and open up the chances for a goal.
Other youngsters like Sorin, Saviola and the experienced gang of Roberto Ayala, Pablo Aimar and Crespo are other star players who have been in good form. The only thing that can stop this team from achieving great success are unforced errors and lack of aggressive killer attitude in spells within a game.
Bottomline: I LOVE ARGENTINA !!
I feel like I was in a trance for four days that I was bedridden...weak and worn out. The only thing that kept me going was the football world cup...it managed to cheer me and keep my spirits up through all these days.
Football action has been amazing...when the world cup was about to start my favourites were Brazil, England & Germany....with a hope that Spain, Italy & Argentina will manage to make a mark in this world cup. These 3 countries have definitely given me more to cheer about. With England and Brazil still warming up....Argentina impressed me completely. Argentina's 6-0 performance against Serbia & Montenegro was absolutely fantastic! They have maintained a steady performance since then if not as exhilerating as the 6-0 show.
Their team work has been spot on...the passing (who can forget the stunning goal by Cambiasso against Serbia when they scored after 54 passes between 8 different players) & dodging.
Several players kick ass!! My favourites???
Messi- Labelled as the next big thing & the cute 19-yr-old. The ball sticks to his foot. He can tackle 5 players and get through the defence on the move. Worth a crush!
Cambiasso- Stocky and strong...delivers some good kicks.
Requelme- Awesome tackling and coordination with other forwards.
Tavez- Can peneterate strong defence with great speed and open up the chances for a goal.
Other youngsters like Sorin, Saviola and the experienced gang of Roberto Ayala, Pablo Aimar and Crespo are other star players who have been in good form. The only thing that can stop this team from achieving great success are unforced errors and lack of aggressive killer attitude in spells within a game.
Bottomline: I LOVE ARGENTINA !!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Sex and Lucia
Is sexual desire complicated?
Are sexual desire and love one and the same? Does sexual desire arise from love and can love stem from sex? Does the attitude of men and women towards sex and love differ? Does one have to fall in love with someone to experience sex to its fullest? Or can a sexual encounter with a stranger make one fall in love with that stranger? Can sexual desires be so strong that you can do anything to get yourself some moments of sexual pleasure? Sex and Lucia raised a hundred questions in my mind and left me seeking answers.
The movie has some sexy make out scenes. They are so brilliantly shot that you are left grasping for breath. The play of light and the innovative camera angles during the sex scenes makes it exciting to watch. There are no in your face and gross images of two bodies in the act. Sexy and sensuous scenes shot aesthetically promise to titillate you not gross you out. All typical fantasies including sex in water, under the moonlight, blind folded, strip tease are played around with. Bare bodies are shown without any apprehension, the actors look most comfortable in their skin baring their bodies during the act. The usually sexist director who shows off only the female sex organs to arouse the male audience has shown the male sex organ liberally. This especially, doesn't make you feel like you are watching sex from the point of view of a man. A more holistic approach lifts the sex to another level.
Point taken: A sexual moment with someone you are not in love with can sometimes be so beautiful that you want to cherish it for life. But when it comes to someone you love, such memories fade in comparison. To be intimate with someone you love can give you a great high, grab you and make you fall deeper in love with your lover.
So can lack of sex for a while in a relationship lead to emotional distance between the couple? And can good sex with another person lead you to leave someone you love?
??????????????
I believe that sex is an integral part of a relationship but if sex is the very foundation of a relationship, it may not last long. But...well...each one us experiences things differently!
Are sexual desire and love one and the same? Does sexual desire arise from love and can love stem from sex? Does the attitude of men and women towards sex and love differ? Does one have to fall in love with someone to experience sex to its fullest? Or can a sexual encounter with a stranger make one fall in love with that stranger? Can sexual desires be so strong that you can do anything to get yourself some moments of sexual pleasure? Sex and Lucia raised a hundred questions in my mind and left me seeking answers.
The movie has some sexy make out scenes. They are so brilliantly shot that you are left grasping for breath. The play of light and the innovative camera angles during the sex scenes makes it exciting to watch. There are no in your face and gross images of two bodies in the act. Sexy and sensuous scenes shot aesthetically promise to titillate you not gross you out. All typical fantasies including sex in water, under the moonlight, blind folded, strip tease are played around with. Bare bodies are shown without any apprehension, the actors look most comfortable in their skin baring their bodies during the act. The usually sexist director who shows off only the female sex organs to arouse the male audience has shown the male sex organ liberally. This especially, doesn't make you feel like you are watching sex from the point of view of a man. A more holistic approach lifts the sex to another level.
Point taken: A sexual moment with someone you are not in love with can sometimes be so beautiful that you want to cherish it for life. But when it comes to someone you love, such memories fade in comparison. To be intimate with someone you love can give you a great high, grab you and make you fall deeper in love with your lover.
So can lack of sex for a while in a relationship lead to emotional distance between the couple? And can good sex with another person lead you to leave someone you love?
??????????????
I believe that sex is an integral part of a relationship but if sex is the very foundation of a relationship, it may not last long. But...well...each one us experiences things differently!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Rain on me
I stand alone
Drenching myself from head to toe
There’s nowhere to go.
I sense you in the skies I see
And yearn for you to rain on me.
As trickling droplets
Surf every inch
I feel your fingers run over me
Speaking through unspoken words.
The fresh green leaves shine me shy
In the blowing breeze; shivering with joy.
I drink you through drops
Beating on my mouth,
Sip you from the crevices in my lips.
For ages high and dry,
I gaze between the earth and sky
Coming down on my knees.
Go on and rain on me.
The wet mud runs
In my breath
Your essence tickles within.
Dancing in the puddles
I see your reflection in,
Trying to shed illusions.
But now you’ve seeped inside
And the soft dribble of water brings whispers
You sent to me from miles away.
Thunder and rain merge
My tremble and ecstasy.
As you rain on me.
Drenching myself from head to toe
There’s nowhere to go.
I sense you in the skies I see
And yearn for you to rain on me.
As trickling droplets
Surf every inch
I feel your fingers run over me
Speaking through unspoken words.
The fresh green leaves shine me shy
In the blowing breeze; shivering with joy.
I drink you through drops
Beating on my mouth,
Sip you from the crevices in my lips.
For ages high and dry,
I gaze between the earth and sky
Coming down on my knees.
Go on and rain on me.
The wet mud runs
In my breath
Your essence tickles within.
Dancing in the puddles
I see your reflection in,
Trying to shed illusions.
But now you’ve seeped inside
And the soft dribble of water brings whispers
You sent to me from miles away.
Thunder and rain merge
My tremble and ecstasy.
As you rain on me.
IT RAINED!!!
Last night I walked out of Gaiety at 12.30 after watching Fanaa and i was like O my God it's raining!
I saw it pour!!
I have never felt this happy seeing the rains and never felt such a strong urge to get wet in the rains.....I was ecstatic!!
I had to, I wanted to, and I needed to get wet....so we walked in the rains all happy and gay to a small restaurant and ordered for a cup of tea.
Sitting there sipping tea after getting drenched in the first showers of monsoons left me so happy that I haven't stopped grinning since then and have been singing....going...lalaalaa....since morning.
These are the seasons of emotion
And like the winds they rise and fall
This is the wonder of devotion
I seek the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient
Upon us all a little rain must fall.
And yes....with every drop of water trickling down....I missed you....like i always do when it rains...wish you were here to share the moment!
I saw it pour!!
I have never felt this happy seeing the rains and never felt such a strong urge to get wet in the rains.....I was ecstatic!!
I had to, I wanted to, and I needed to get wet....so we walked in the rains all happy and gay to a small restaurant and ordered for a cup of tea.
Sitting there sipping tea after getting drenched in the first showers of monsoons left me so happy that I haven't stopped grinning since then and have been singing....going...lalaalaa....since morning.
These are the seasons of emotion
And like the winds they rise and fall
This is the wonder of devotion
I seek the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient
Upon us all a little rain must fall.
And yes....with every drop of water trickling down....I missed you....like i always do when it rains...wish you were here to share the moment!
Saturday, May 20, 2006
I understand there is vacuum.
I understand the empty spaces
Somewhere within
The emptiness of the mind.
What I cannot grasp
Are the depths within it.
Seeking a vehicle to travel
Through this void.
Resistance and acceptance
Stand at logger heads.
Fight the friction
Of human nature and will?
Or flow with the wind
And travel aimlessly?
Or is there a another way
To unravel the mysteries
Of the inevitable circumstances
And stop the looming thoughts
Playing in loop
Hovering over each moment
As bouts of strength appear and disappear
In awkward repetition?
What if the blankness grows
Larger and larger?
Making the journey longer
With every depth I counter.
Or should I abandon
The passage itself
And wait for the vacuum to seize.
Will it seize to exist at all?
Vacuum cannot exist without
The friction of nature and change.
So I get down on my knees
And submit to modification.
Allow nature to take its own course
While I watch myself from a distance,
See my empty picture
And laugh at my self
Saying: take over.
I understand the empty spaces
Somewhere within
The emptiness of the mind.
What I cannot grasp
Are the depths within it.
Seeking a vehicle to travel
Through this void.
Resistance and acceptance
Stand at logger heads.
Fight the friction
Of human nature and will?
Or flow with the wind
And travel aimlessly?
Or is there a another way
To unravel the mysteries
Of the inevitable circumstances
And stop the looming thoughts
Playing in loop
Hovering over each moment
As bouts of strength appear and disappear
In awkward repetition?
What if the blankness grows
Larger and larger?
Making the journey longer
With every depth I counter.
Or should I abandon
The passage itself
And wait for the vacuum to seize.
Will it seize to exist at all?
Vacuum cannot exist without
The friction of nature and change.
So I get down on my knees
And submit to modification.
Allow nature to take its own course
While I watch myself from a distance,
See my empty picture
And laugh at my self
Saying: take over.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Craving for subjugation
Climbing up a creeper
That’s leaning on me.
Walking over sand
That’s closing in.
I’m driving to the dead end
Craving for subjugation,
Striving to be overthrown,
Waiting to come into my own.
To feel your warm hands
Run over my weary face,
Hiding under the blanket
Of your memories.
That’s leaning on me.
Walking over sand
That’s closing in.
I’m driving to the dead end
Craving for subjugation,
Striving to be overthrown,
Waiting to come into my own.
To feel your warm hands
Run over my weary face,
Hiding under the blanket
Of your memories.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
This is what kashid is made of:
Five stoned fools, white sand and the blue waters of the sea.
Pristine waves rushing in and taking the sand along making your feet sink deep.
Strong waves wetting your body and Varun diving into each wave that tries to overpower him.
Making a mountainnof sand, then digging out a tunnel and then shouting in joy when my hand meet varun's inside that tunnel....as we revel in our new work of art.
Running in slow motion in the waters towards Varun as the sun sets behind us....acting out the filmi MILAN!!!
Lying in the hammock under the shade of the coconut trees having nothing to do but chill out on the sunny beach.
Allocating a hindi song to each person. For Meghna: Mai Albeli ghoomoo akeli....koi paheli hoon main. haha.
Varun and Akki fighting for more gulaab jamuns which they never could get their hands on.
Three days of being cut off from the world with no mobile network and no phone at close quaters.
Finding our way with a torch (borrowed after much effort by our two sloshed companions) to the beach in the dark night and lying around watching the stars and the white foam on the waves.
Posing as some sidey band members clicking photographs for their latest Album's CD cover as the guide takes you around Janjeera fort. The guys wear Provougue goggles...while the girls wear their bandana.
Video recording Akki's long trips on a slab of ice in the snow, floating on the clouds and seeing the light come out of the dark and ofcourse laughing at it.
Droping off (Akki's one and somu's two) chappals as they doze off in the tuktuki and then going back a few kilometers to fetch them, and actually finding them. yay!!
It was just out of this world man!!
Pristine waves rushing in and taking the sand along making your feet sink deep.
Strong waves wetting your body and Varun diving into each wave that tries to overpower him.
Making a mountainnof sand, then digging out a tunnel and then shouting in joy when my hand meet varun's inside that tunnel....as we revel in our new work of art.
Running in slow motion in the waters towards Varun as the sun sets behind us....acting out the filmi MILAN!!!
Lying in the hammock under the shade of the coconut trees having nothing to do but chill out on the sunny beach.
Allocating a hindi song to each person. For Meghna: Mai Albeli ghoomoo akeli....koi paheli hoon main. haha.
Varun and Akki fighting for more gulaab jamuns which they never could get their hands on.
Three days of being cut off from the world with no mobile network and no phone at close quaters.
Finding our way with a torch (borrowed after much effort by our two sloshed companions) to the beach in the dark night and lying around watching the stars and the white foam on the waves.
Posing as some sidey band members clicking photographs for their latest Album's CD cover as the guide takes you around Janjeera fort. The guys wear Provougue goggles...while the girls wear their bandana.
Video recording Akki's long trips on a slab of ice in the snow, floating on the clouds and seeing the light come out of the dark and ofcourse laughing at it.
Droping off (Akki's one and somu's two) chappals as they doze off in the tuktuki and then going back a few kilometers to fetch them, and actually finding them. yay!!
It was just out of this world man!!
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Sinking
Sinking
In your arms
Like a pebble
In the sea.
Dancing,
Humming a song.
Drifting, and you
Drift with me.
Swaying,
To delicate music
Your body magically
Makes with mine.
Drowning,
In the night,
Holding you,
And holding on,
Till the break
Of dawn. (
In your arms
Like a pebble
In the sea.
Dancing,
Humming a song.
Drifting, and you
Drift with me.
Swaying,
To delicate music
Your body magically
Makes with mine.
Drowning,
In the night,
Holding you,
And holding on,
Till the break
Of dawn. (
Thursday, April 13, 2006
I find a reason to stay
Sipping from the leftover.
I hang along, savouring every bit
Of what I could flush
In my mouth.
The setting sun,
And a moving chair
Share the space in my vision.
Time is running all over me.
Walking with you.
Sweet innocent drops
Dripping all over us.
My hands slipped into yours;
The rains drowned the hours
In eternal surrender.
Now, it’s getting dark
And memories erode
My consciousness.
I forget my way
Back home.
Just when I am about to leave.
I find a reason to stay.
I hang along, savouring every bit
Of what I could flush
In my mouth.
The setting sun,
And a moving chair
Share the space in my vision.
Time is running all over me.
Walking with you.
Sweet innocent drops
Dripping all over us.
My hands slipped into yours;
The rains drowned the hours
In eternal surrender.
Now, it’s getting dark
And memories erode
My consciousness.
I forget my way
Back home.
Just when I am about to leave.
I find a reason to stay.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Arms of life
Drown I will
In a pool of intoxication.
Lie I will
In a cloud of smoke.
Drift I will
In trips of green.
Die I will
In the arms of life.
In a pool of intoxication.
Lie I will
In a cloud of smoke.
Drift I will
In trips of green.
Die I will
In the arms of life.
Friday, March 31, 2006
White feather
White feather
Slides by the window.
Wraps
Deepening heat.
Slithers.
Glides
On careless waffles of dust.
Distanced
From the flock.
Riding
The yellow breeze.
Elevating
And sinking.
Oscillating
Down into brownness.
Slides by the window.
Wraps
Deepening heat.
Slithers.
Glides
On careless waffles of dust.
Distanced
From the flock.
Riding
The yellow breeze.
Elevating
And sinking.
Oscillating
Down into brownness.
Monday, March 27, 2006
A Nobody
Facing the void night,
Sinking.
The sky is moonless.
Much like my dark mind,
Feeling wasted and worthless.
Twisting and turning from side to side,
Tossing between one thought
And the other,
Ashamed, inadequate and
Vulnerable as ever.
Touch me somebody,
Caress my hair,
Put me to sleep.
Treat me like a crying baby.
Be my shepherd, make me your sheep.
I’m not the centre of the universe
Tonight,
Travelling beyond the ego
Crushed under the weight of desires
I’m deep under the earth below.
Liberating to evolve, evolving to liberate
From guilt,
Self-pity and low self esteem
That has taken over like an army.
I no longer deserve to dream.
I don’t want to search
For a meaning,
Into the fairy tale I wrote,
There’s nothing left of me
And my ride in this wrecked boat.
Then I look at the gloomy morning
To come, And wipe
My nothingness
That comes again and again. Takes over,
No longer sustaining my unwillingness.
When the rays light up my soul,
I’ll fly towards my abode,
And as I’m upward bound,
The flight will remind me
Of the cage I broke.
And keep my feet firmly
Planted on the ground.
And when I traverse the high mountain peaks
I won’t be swallowed by empty pride
This humbling night will remind me
That I was a nobody,
I’m a nobody.
Sinking.
The sky is moonless.
Much like my dark mind,
Feeling wasted and worthless.
Twisting and turning from side to side,
Tossing between one thought
And the other,
Ashamed, inadequate and
Vulnerable as ever.
Touch me somebody,
Caress my hair,
Put me to sleep.
Treat me like a crying baby.
Be my shepherd, make me your sheep.
I’m not the centre of the universe
Tonight,
Travelling beyond the ego
Crushed under the weight of desires
I’m deep under the earth below.
Liberating to evolve, evolving to liberate
From guilt,
Self-pity and low self esteem
That has taken over like an army.
I no longer deserve to dream.
I don’t want to search
For a meaning,
Into the fairy tale I wrote,
There’s nothing left of me
And my ride in this wrecked boat.
Then I look at the gloomy morning
To come, And wipe
My nothingness
That comes again and again. Takes over,
No longer sustaining my unwillingness.
When the rays light up my soul,
I’ll fly towards my abode,
And as I’m upward bound,
The flight will remind me
Of the cage I broke.
And keep my feet firmly
Planted on the ground.
And when I traverse the high mountain peaks
I won’t be swallowed by empty pride
This humbling night will remind me
That I was a nobody,
I’m a nobody.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Moment
I saw venus, the moon
And a falling star.
That night I wondered.
I wondered where you are.
And then I saw you shining through
The scarce leaves and branches
From the dark blue.
Now, amidst fading laughs
My pained feet
Walk down the path
Strewn with crunching leaves,
Alive with wild colours
Of yellows and oranges
And reds and browns,
Multiplying the angelic sounds
Of herons in flight,
Merging their white
With the sky dressed in gold
As the sun spreads its wings
And embraces
The dying night.
The trees sprinkle the morning dew,
Seeping into my thirsty skin.
And I sip the fragrance
Of the misty earth,
Swear, indulgence is mirth.
The dead fire waves it’s
Magic wand, bestows
Ash on trees.
The longer I see the blur it gets.
And ash is all I feel.
My dampened self
Drowns into the cleansing waters
Of solitude.
I look up at the clear roof
And no longer seek you.
I rub off the remains of an
Impaired dream
And stick out my neck,
Dancing underneath my own shadow,
Uncovered by the translucent surface.
I drag my mellowness,
Trip over myself.
Tripping on the cherry red robe
I’m wearing,
Counting the dripping pieces of truth.
Her hand is on my free shoulders.
I never saw those fingers before,
Tapping my back,
Running through my hair.
I gaze at the darkening
Under belly of the red.
I reach out my hand
And touch you.
The moment is stuck
And I move on
With you for company
As you pour into me
A desire to love
And a love to desire life.
And a falling star.
That night I wondered.
I wondered where you are.
And then I saw you shining through
The scarce leaves and branches
From the dark blue.
Now, amidst fading laughs
My pained feet
Walk down the path
Strewn with crunching leaves,
Alive with wild colours
Of yellows and oranges
And reds and browns,
Multiplying the angelic sounds
Of herons in flight,
Merging their white
With the sky dressed in gold
As the sun spreads its wings
And embraces
The dying night.
The trees sprinkle the morning dew,
Seeping into my thirsty skin.
And I sip the fragrance
Of the misty earth,
Swear, indulgence is mirth.
The dead fire waves it’s
Magic wand, bestows
Ash on trees.
The longer I see the blur it gets.
And ash is all I feel.
My dampened self
Drowns into the cleansing waters
Of solitude.
I look up at the clear roof
And no longer seek you.
I rub off the remains of an
Impaired dream
And stick out my neck,
Dancing underneath my own shadow,
Uncovered by the translucent surface.
I drag my mellowness,
Trip over myself.
Tripping on the cherry red robe
I’m wearing,
Counting the dripping pieces of truth.
Her hand is on my free shoulders.
I never saw those fingers before,
Tapping my back,
Running through my hair.
I gaze at the darkening
Under belly of the red.
I reach out my hand
And touch you.
The moment is stuck
And I move on
With you for company
As you pour into me
A desire to love
And a love to desire life.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Falling star-2
Look at me dear falling star,
As I watch you go down
I yearn to hold you up
And embrace you in my arms.
You didn’t have to fall
But you needed to shoot back
To where you belong.
You looked too beautiful to be true
Just before you took off.
I hope you land safely
In the lap of the sun.
And you need not worry anymore,
You no longer have shine down on me.
And I wish upon you again
As you go down;
I wish the world looks up at your grace
And watches you rise to a world
Far away from its illusions.
As I watch you go down
I yearn to hold you up
And embrace you in my arms.
You didn’t have to fall
But you needed to shoot back
To where you belong.
You looked too beautiful to be true
Just before you took off.
I hope you land safely
In the lap of the sun.
And you need not worry anymore,
You no longer have shine down on me.
And I wish upon you again
As you go down;
I wish the world looks up at your grace
And watches you rise to a world
Far away from its illusions.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Falling Star
Did you fight the battle at all?
With the world outside of you
Did you crush the enemy within?
Only you know what’s true.
Was your weapon a double edged sword?
Or a shield that you placed upon your body,
To cut through your own bare skin
And make a hole in your spirited soul.
Did you know it was the last blow?
When no one read the silence in your cries,
And the cries in your silence
As you stared at the skies.
Did you call upon a fellow star,
On your way down, from the exalted vision
Of the sky, and turn against yourself
On your journey to a place without reason.
Was your own light too bright?
Blinding you and tearing you apart.
Were you on the rise as all eyes saw you fall,
Just heading back to the start.
I knock, I seek, I ask.
I still don’t know who you were,
I don’t know where you are.
I’m just burning the dead dry leaves
And watching the falling star.
With the world outside of you
Did you crush the enemy within?
Only you know what’s true.
Was your weapon a double edged sword?
Or a shield that you placed upon your body,
To cut through your own bare skin
And make a hole in your spirited soul.
Did you know it was the last blow?
When no one read the silence in your cries,
And the cries in your silence
As you stared at the skies.
Did you call upon a fellow star,
On your way down, from the exalted vision
Of the sky, and turn against yourself
On your journey to a place without reason.
Was your own light too bright?
Blinding you and tearing you apart.
Were you on the rise as all eyes saw you fall,
Just heading back to the start.
I knock, I seek, I ask.
I still don’t know who you were,
I don’t know where you are.
I’m just burning the dead dry leaves
And watching the falling star.
Monday, February 13, 2006
mahableshwar!!
I was apprehensive and nervous like I always am when i'm confused which way to go before I travel out of the city. I had to fight my current frame of mind which compelled me to be on my own to travel to Mahableshwar to be with my school friends with whom I hadn't been out for a holiday for almost a year.
Thankfully, I kind of cajoled myself (still not convinced it was the best thing to go) to go chill out this weekend. I'm glad I did!
I have been going to Mahableshwar since I was in 9th grade with my school friends and going there is our yearly outing. But this time it was great living in a place that looks like some English countryside (Thanks Prachi for taking us to your lovely farm house). This old 18th century bunglow in the middle of huge lawns is aweseome. It was the ideal place for me to write a book or something. Anyway, I had a room to myself and guess what greets me the first time I enter that room at some 5.30 (it was still dark) am? a haunting painting of a girl whose looking straight at you as she is going about reading her book. I think it was scary enough to freak anyone out in an old mansion. But thankfully I found it interesting and that's it.
Anyway whole day of Cricket on a real pitch with stumps and stuff was good fun. I remembered all the times when I had played cricket with my school friends. I have played the maximum cricket with them and my brother. I had been waiting to get my hands on the cricket bat....and it was great fun with all the girls and guys playing on this small version of the cricket field. Cricket rocks and girls rocked. I was the girls day out, as all the girls outplayed the guys.
In the second match itself Pooja (who was bowling at me) threw the ball straight on my face spliting my glasses into two equal halves, and leaving a scar right in the middle of my forehead. God, it hurt but that didn't dampen my spirit. I borrowed spectacles from people but kept going..now that's what we call committment on the field. And then on started the war...Pooja vs Suparna....everytime we faced each others bowling...everybody would like wooo...we have a battle on. Next day we had dheele purze...with every inch of our body aching...but we still played. Just that everybody was a bit dead on the field.
Other than the cricket there was our favourite strawberry with cream, (we had loads of it) hours of video games, and lots and lots of awesome food...for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The nights were real chilly and windy, just the ideal kinds for a vacation.
The two days in the lovely weather of Mahableshwar were refreshing...I think something that I deserved...and needed...damn wish we cud stay there for long...and have more fun. why does all the fun have to end? I miss all you guys...hope that our next fun trip comes soon.
Thankfully, I kind of cajoled myself (still not convinced it was the best thing to go) to go chill out this weekend. I'm glad I did!
I have been going to Mahableshwar since I was in 9th grade with my school friends and going there is our yearly outing. But this time it was great living in a place that looks like some English countryside (Thanks Prachi for taking us to your lovely farm house). This old 18th century bunglow in the middle of huge lawns is aweseome. It was the ideal place for me to write a book or something. Anyway, I had a room to myself and guess what greets me the first time I enter that room at some 5.30 (it was still dark) am? a haunting painting of a girl whose looking straight at you as she is going about reading her book. I think it was scary enough to freak anyone out in an old mansion. But thankfully I found it interesting and that's it.
Anyway whole day of Cricket on a real pitch with stumps and stuff was good fun. I remembered all the times when I had played cricket with my school friends. I have played the maximum cricket with them and my brother. I had been waiting to get my hands on the cricket bat....and it was great fun with all the girls and guys playing on this small version of the cricket field. Cricket rocks and girls rocked. I was the girls day out, as all the girls outplayed the guys.
In the second match itself Pooja (who was bowling at me) threw the ball straight on my face spliting my glasses into two equal halves, and leaving a scar right in the middle of my forehead. God, it hurt but that didn't dampen my spirit. I borrowed spectacles from people but kept going..now that's what we call committment on the field. And then on started the war...Pooja vs Suparna....everytime we faced each others bowling...everybody would like wooo...we have a battle on. Next day we had dheele purze...with every inch of our body aching...but we still played. Just that everybody was a bit dead on the field.
Other than the cricket there was our favourite strawberry with cream, (we had loads of it) hours of video games, and lots and lots of awesome food...for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The nights were real chilly and windy, just the ideal kinds for a vacation.
The two days in the lovely weather of Mahableshwar were refreshing...I think something that I deserved...and needed...damn wish we cud stay there for long...and have more fun. why does all the fun have to end? I miss all you guys...hope that our next fun trip comes soon.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Rang De..rocks!!
In one word: Awesome!!
Rang De Basanti is the best movie I have seen in the recent times. On the lines of films like Ankush, Dil Chahta hai, Arjun and the others, the awakening of the youth is what the film is all about.
The cast is just perfect. You can't think of any other actor that fits into any one of those roles...from Aamir, Soha to Sharman, Kunal Kapoor... and all the others get into the skin of their respective characters with ease. Cannot leave out the chocolate boy of the south (all the girls seem to have gone nuts about him...that includes me!! somu claims that she owns the copy rights to drool over him). Siddharth, as the cool, reticent karan is adorable, and hot!!
The plot, characterisation and camera leave a mark. But what impressed me best was the narration. The merging of Bhagat Singh's story with the story of these boys was done beautifully. None of the relationships directly claim to be what they are. The brotherly affection shared by Karan and Ajay, the protectiveness of DJ for his friends, the bond DJ shares with Sukhi and the closeness between
Sonia and Aslam is subtle and comes accross beautifully without having to make it obvious.
Music flows with the story, and grows on you. Rubaroo surely takes the cake. Inspiring, fresh and versatile the music works strongly in favour of the storyline.
Rakeysh Mehra has definitely made a movie that won't be forgotten for a long long time to come. He revives the issue of MIGs which has been long forgotten. But the underlying statement that the film makes is that an awekened youth can bring about a revolution in the country.
Entertaining and inspiring, the movie made me sit back and think. Bollywood needs to come up with more such good original cinema for the Indian viewer. Small flaws forgiven! I loved the film!! Have seen it twice and I don't think I'll stop watching this movie for years to come.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
To my little superstar,
I still remember the first time you came home.
I loved taking you in my arms.
Leading you to our school,
you walked at a leisurely pace...irritating me to no end.
Kissing you against your wish.
You always loved wearing the same frock as mine,
and even today we have the same shirt.
How we recorded songs on the old tape!
thought we were the youngest pop stars.
You irked me when you accompanied me wherever i went.
How we played those silly childhood games.
We fed the poor barbie doll some upma for break fast!!
How we made movies, danced and acted on our little stage.
We fought like cats and dogs,
Thought we hated each other.
We shared our secrets.
You thought I was your best friend.
Wish I had got the chance to be that,
and share your pain and agony.
I kissed you again,
This time you couldn't stop me.
No sign of any pain,
Your peaceful face disrupts my peace.
I thought I just heard your voice.
Something I can only imagine.
Your name does not display on my cell phone...
no panic calls...saying you miss me.
Yes, I have your last gift.
I've also kept the gift that I gave you.
I can still smell you inside those pieces of clothing
I folded one by one, something attached to each of them.
I speak to you.
There are endless memories....
lingering in my senses...
But where are you?
I cross my heart.
I still remember the first time you came home.
I loved taking you in my arms.
Leading you to our school,
you walked at a leisurely pace...irritating me to no end.
Kissing you against your wish.
You always loved wearing the same frock as mine,
and even today we have the same shirt.
How we recorded songs on the old tape!
thought we were the youngest pop stars.
You irked me when you accompanied me wherever i went.
How we played those silly childhood games.
We fed the poor barbie doll some upma for break fast!!
How we made movies, danced and acted on our little stage.
We fought like cats and dogs,
Thought we hated each other.
We shared our secrets.
You thought I was your best friend.
Wish I had got the chance to be that,
and share your pain and agony.
I kissed you again,
This time you couldn't stop me.
No sign of any pain,
Your peaceful face disrupts my peace.
I thought I just heard your voice.
Something I can only imagine.
Your name does not display on my cell phone...
no panic calls...saying you miss me.
Yes, I have your last gift.
I've also kept the gift that I gave you.
I can still smell you inside those pieces of clothing
I folded one by one, something attached to each of them.
I speak to you.
There are endless memories....
lingering in my senses...
But where are you?
I cross my heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)