Dreaming on...

In the air...

2010-01-03T10:40:00.002+05:30

There definitely is something in the air. Of something nice just around the corner! It is some kind of promise the wind made me today.

A short gust of cold wind gently stroked my face and in passing, in barely audible whispers, spoke to me of something to come.

I felt it in my bones then...an untraceable happiness. Of knowing what it is deep inside, but unable to word it in mortal tongues. An inner trepidation...a short racing of the heart. Of something good and interesting about to happen.

P.S.: Happy New Year!

Sometimes...

2009-12-11T02:06:00.000+05:30

Sometimes you don't really know the reason behind certain actions of yours. And that is when certain movies, certain other people and their actions make you realize how similarly confused we all are.

Today, like many days in recent times, made me think and probe within a lot more. I was feeling highly volatile the whole day- mood swinging like mad monkeys from tree tops. Certain things, certain people, certain thoughts trigger such an avalanche of emotions within you that one moment seems way too atomic to comprehend the entire thing. And so I need time, to sort out those million emotions that were born in a moment, like mustard seeds popping out of a badly opened packet.

Time is something I have no idea how to manage. My expectations from myself, from this all-new tag-attached life here has only made me involve myself in way too many things. Being the Lady Oliver Twist that I am, I keep asking more out of life, out of time, out of myself.

I need my rudder, my anchor, my steer that could probably signal meaning to me. Life seems like a long stretch of days- with some wonderful education, heaps of growing up and maturing and unlearning. But there are also days tucked in between- ones that make me feel anything between crabby arthritic senile old lady, nagging woman-of-the-house, bossy disgusting know-it-all to lonely whimpering immature blubbering idiot.

With all the spirit I can gather within, pushing away all the deep longings of one look at home, one hug from family, one walk with my sister and one tryst with Chennai, I surge on, with deep faith in all the decisions I have made. They have only been reinforced by this place. I'm only more and more sure- with each passing day- that the moving images I decided to flirt with, were the most compatible life partner I could have chosen for myself.

But doubts raise, with fleeting footsteps- about how warped this place can get sometimes, how insanely competitive and evil people can get and how disgusting life can turn out to be, if only you give in to its wily luring cries.

Directionless, but with instinct to prompt impulses, I carry on.

Happiness, after all!

2009-11-20T16:27:00.004+05:30

There are moments your dads just embrace you with their words and make you feel so good about being their daughters. These are pretty rare moments really, because, contrary to popular opinion, I AM an Amma's child. It has always been my amma who has supported all my whims and fancies, despite knowing that I have a tendency to the excess.

My appa and I have always been very attached to one another. We have been friends more than anything else, just like my amma and I. We fight, we bond, we team up against my sister or my mother, we talk electronics and gadgets, we discuss science with great interest and he's someone who has inspired me a lot.

But somewhere, despite all that, I have always thought appa never really encouraged my endeavours and never really cared for what I wanted. Praise from him, was always valued. Amma knew, intuitively, and she is my pillar of strength, the biggest support and a person whose capacity to love, patience, spirit and brilliance I want to emulate. Appa was this person whose genius I admire, experience I respect and whose sense of humour I laugh over. But somewhere, being the white elephant child that I am and also with my varied interests and extreme enthusiasm, appa and I have always had our differences of opinion.

So when that day, just after my jury, which went really well, I rushed to the phone to call amma, who'll KNOW how much this meant to me, who'd feel the exact happiness like I did and who'd be delighted over it! I knew she could be trusted to buoy up my ecstacy. I asked her to pass on this news to appa, as I was sure he'd be happy, but not absolutely sure of how much it would mean to him. But when he called back almost instantly and with such enthusiastic happiness, gushed his congratulations, the delight I knew, could not be worded.

For, the man who told me it wasn't wise to chase films, who provoked me saying it is high time I get a job, and who also laughed at me for being a fool to give up architecture- finally realised how much this means to me. And humbly, with great love for his daughter, he sweetly called and chirped in his happy song to me.

It meant so much, I'd be mad to attempt to write it. It jerked hitherto invisible tears into my eyes suddenly.

And today, when he once again did a similar sweet act, I realized, maybe it was just a fear that his child would be hurt-that made him oppose me. And when he said, an hour ago, that he can see me go places, I had happy tears once again and a new dream rooted itself deep into my heart. It is not just for the mother(and sister too), but also for the father that the movies shall be made.

Appa, I'm sorry, if I have ever been horrible to you. But you know I love you!
Amma, I love you for what you are and what, I know, you'll always be! You're simply wonderful.
Swethu, you're perfect and even a thought of you makes me long for home!

It is delightful to be alive!
God bless the world with such happiness!

At 2:21 am on a Thursday morning

2009-11-19T02:20:00.002+05:30

As a string of poplar Bollywood numbers are belted from a party in one of the hostels, I am, in the light of my table lamp, tapping the keys of my laptop. My roommate is tossing and turning, unable to sleep with all the crooning from the speakers and all the sing-along voices. The typing isn't helping either.

It is not that I particularly have anything special to say. But a sudden seizure to write just broke over me. Speaking of seizures, I've been watching a bit of House M.D. lately and I can't wait to find the loser who deleted it from Unsecure so I could feed him to those scavenging kites that circle the Eames Plaza!

I've had an 'avial' day with a bit of every thing thrown in to flavour it. Work went fantastic today. Whether or not the final product is good, bad or ugly, we had great fun trying out the different lights and positioning them. I felt like a kid with a newly opened Lego toy box.

I LOVE Cinematography. Maybe only after direction and writing, but in a special way. There is something that light and darkness try to tell, and capturing them and sealing them on a midget sized device forever still seems to fascinate me.

Maybe the undying kid in me is helping me in this field of cinema. It talks to me and makes me write, draw and make shots that excite me. That excitement- I never want to lose. Irrespective of the end product(judgement is anyway so relative in everything), I hope this excitement never dies.

I am glad I took this course here. I was delighted today when I could intutively feel a few things about lighting dawn on me. Architecture, maybe has a say in it. I always used to base my designs on light and free-flowing spaces. So to a certain extent, the physical quality of light is something I seem to be picking up fast. The technical aspects, is where yours truly stumbles. I just DON'T seem to have a memory to retain it. Internet, thank god, was invented, and so was Gutenberg's press, and I'm glad both have been a part of our history.

I am hoping to experiment with my 'Lightening'- my very ordinary camera- this weekend. I have no idea if I would succeed. Things just crop up dime a dozen and the KMC has been tugging at my sleeveends from when I landed. I need to pay obesience to that love of my life and run my hands across the stems of those wonderful books. And as always, I want to think of all the great thoughts that have completed the space between covers...I want to dream of all those torturous times those authors must have experienced before shaping this beautiful thing...it is so lovely to be in a place full of books!

I miss 'My Shrine'(my personal library of books not-open-to-public or friends. I don't believe in lending books to people generally as they never return/take care of it like something precious!). The pain is sometimes so unbearable that it gets almost to a level of a physical ache at the tip of the fingers!

There used to be days when I used to take out all the 400 odd books from the shelf and arrange them all back in, after cataloguing the new ones. Oh! Such fun times! I miss doing that. I wonder if me and my shrine shall ever be reunited forever. Maybe when I build that dream house...

I seem to be in a really dreamy state right now. So many expectations from myself, a few from the world at large, a huge craving for Andhayug to happen and a hope for the role of the Old Mendicant. Plans plans plans and more plans for my life as a filmmaker and creator of sorts(my jury had a good dig at my partiality for this word. Lol!).

I can't wait to learn and begin work. Short films for kids, Travel docus and programmes, telefilms(I LOVE this concept! Not too long, not too short! JUST right!), reviving Doordarshan(maybe!), teaching art and film, writing endlessly, ahhhhhhhhh!!! Life is soooooooooooo full of endless possibilities!

I am blithe! :)

God bless the world with dreams. I think as long as we are, as Willy Wonka would say, "the music makers and the dreamers of dreams", all our troubles, somehow, shall just fritter away!

Ah! To be alive! :)

(P.S: Randomness, yes! :P )

Musings

2009-11-17T01:56:00.002+05:30

Where did all those fairy dreams and hopes go? A tiny shoot-ling of cynicism has crept inside and established its roots like some old tenant claiming the house for their own!

There used to be a time when I could just let myself berserk and dream on and on with such vividness and conviction! Growing up has somewhere or the other, left a little singe in the end, a few black spots on my rosy glasses, marring my visions.

Once in a while, unknowingly out of old habits, the spirit just takes off on a mad unmanned flight into the limitless cosmos. And then, for those few seconds I experience once again, after eons, that pure feeling of unquenchable happiness.

But they are only sometimes. Even for a die hard optimist and humanity lover, it does get hard to live with both of the above at a stretch!

Growing up isn't half as fun as I thought it would be. And honestly, I had never wanted to grow up, really! So even the meagre expectations lay cruelly crumpled.

well, work stares ahead, motivating me to the unknowns ahead.

Good luck, good people!

This moment

2009-11-10T21:55:00.001+05:30

Weirdness.

Afloat in some limitless universe.

A Bottomless pit receives.

darkness that can be worded not.

a shameful feeling of loneliness

in the opening paragraphs of life.

Eye full of searchlights scanning the skies

In the rhythmic clatter of existence

wanting a momentary pause of meaning

space-expanding or contracting

never stagnant-same.

never embracing the whole in perfection.

Give me back my rainbows

those lyrical melodies that were sung within

smugness invade again

this wandering hermit to peace.

Scrapbook for Sistah!

2009-10-21T21:11:00.003+05:30

Random pages from the scrapbook I made for my sister's birthday.

Mahabharat

2009-10-20T17:18:00.002+05:30

This series was done as a part of the play "Andhayug" that NID's Khel is putting up, with Arshia Sattar at the helm and Mallika Sarabhai's 'Natrani' supporting us.

We were asked to express in words and/or images what the play meant to us. This was my expression.
It is done on an 8-folded A4 sized sheet of paper. The first image is the front cover and the fifth is the back cover. You unfold it once and image 2 is what you get. Unfold again and the third image emerges. Then you open it completely and the fourth image appears on the entire span of the sheet.

I'm doing a series of these 'handouts'(if you may call them that), as part of my self-sponsored "The NID whim"! :D (No no! No one commissions me to do anything these days! :P)

"The NID whim" is a series of things, NID inspired, that I propose to do. That place has been, so far, the greatest inspiration in my life. And all the things it is inspiring me to do, shall be categorized as part of 'The NID whim' project.

NOW

2009-10-01T08:29:00.000+05:30

Visions of the blind kingdom,
ideas to doodle,
books unread,
verses framed in the head,
a little longing,
smells of home haunting,
wishes waiting in line,
broken piggy banks,
a dream to live

Dada hari ni vav

2009-09-01T03:00:00.010+05:30

Trickling droplets from some broken gargoyle-faced gutter, pierced the silence with its crystalline clarity.

Silence. This place was benevolently bestowed with silence, only to be enhanced by mild insect sounds and one's own footsteps.

And when it rains... the symphonic downpour echoes off from the time-washed walls. Every kink of stone etching bounces off the rhythmic sound and the place reverberates with a music, fit only for gods.

And two lucky mortals, who decided to sneak into this heavenly brewing of music on one rainy evening witnessed sights of ethereal quality.

Light and shadow seemed two lovers in disguise. One hiding from the other in haunting nooks and the other seeking it, drawing it out with an arrogant possessiveness.

As the sun sketched its route across th amber skies and clouds erased it with their dirty black rubber markings; as small drops of rain huddled and poured in pellets, light and shadow had a romantic tryst.

Birds called out from crevices unseen, egging one to find out the other. Behind a pillar, beneath that arch...they were playing all over.

And there was none to disturb their solitary romance until two mortals dared to walk in. Even then, they invited them into their game, wrapped them in a spell of silence, rendered them speechless with the beauty of their selves and made them stunned as prisoners to their bewitching game.

***********************************************************************************

Human hands had crudely scrawled a name in charcoal across those stone walls that were gently handled by the hands of time.

***********************************************************************************

Someday in those days of yore, a young lady must have walked in by moonlight, through the unguarded portals of the royal vav.

Cautious, coy and trembling with the fear of rebellion, she must have walked down, one step after another, anklet sounds resounding in treble its soft whisper.

Eyes alight with the prospective joy and feet suddenly throwing caution to the wind, the lady must have flown down those last few steps with an urgency that beauty must have triggered,

A hollow pit of moonlit water must have reflected in her beady eyes.

Slowly she must have begun to undress before her eyes met those of a handsome stranger. Her clothed beauty was unbearable to him, where could he muster enough strength to see her naked self. he had made himself visible, leaving the refuge of the pillar where some beautiful sonnets were being penned in praise of the moon.

Their eyes must have met and drawn meaning from one another; for suddenly they were strangers no more. Time stood still, reason lay dead, there was something too beautiful for even a poet to capture.

He must have tried to walk towards her and she must have walked a little away. They must have played this game of hide and seek for seconds, minutes, hours... or maybe years!

They must have continued and time must have hidden this place from mortal eyes, lest they spoil its sanctity. Love consecrated the monument. Things must have stayed still. For when my eyes first galloped across every inch of wall, every little carving, it told me the tale, of the beautiful lady called light and the handsome man named shadow and how, they continue their beautiful romance within...

***********************************************************************************

(This was written as part of our editing exercise's documentation process. We were expected to go visit places that we would like to document and write about it. This was the immediate response I had to the place- Dada ni vav, Ahmedabad.)

Observations

2009-08-19T14:24:00.003+05:30

Sometimes, when there is so much work to be completed, when deadlines loom large, a sudden urge sprouts and pulls you back and makes you want to go crawling to that earlier self.

The self that wrote reams and reams of trish-trash as it called its writing!

The pen seems so alien sometimes what with cameras and lightmeters and reflectors replacing the soft touch of a plastic...sometime metal body on the fingers, gently carving out lines with deep black ink on to a stark white surface.

Time here, has bribed hands that work the clock, to move quicker than it ought to! The only writing I manage to do is when some random thought seizes my entire being and paralyzes me for oh-but-just-a-moment. And the only writing I DO is to quickly type it down on the 'Notes' folder on my cellphone(which, for the record, has been named 'midget')

I miss the time I used to steal off for myself back in the past. Two months into this place, I'm living life like never before, finding people, carving space, exploring, discovering, scared, happy, annoyed, lonely, ecstatic- everything! But me-time is almost reduced to nothingness and today happens to be one of those super-rare occasions of a few 'blissful just-me hours'.

Apart from the teensy-weensy promos I made, which were mere explorations at stop-motion animation, I explored and read blogs of a few of my seniors here at NID. Somewhere down the line, I'd let myself forget how much I looked forward to this wonderful place. Aided by what happened the week before and a strong bout of homesickness, I almost stopped appreciating the beautiful fact that I'm actually leading the life-of-my-dreams!!!

Their blogs reminded me of the kind of work that we are encouraged to do here and suddenly I realized that my own voice has grown stronger over the past two months. I've explored more of my life, learnt so much, doing things I've never done before and slowly getting to know more about myself!

This is just a thank you note to the fellow NID junta whose blogs I hopped over today(Mini, Shreyas, Arpit, Kaveri,Kaveri's Art blog, Kabini, Reddy, Abhimanyu) and the cosmos out there to have revived what I almost let lie dormant!

The jealous goddess shall be served at her altar more regularly! The writing shall keep coming!

*happy kid-like grins*

:D

Never gone!

2009-08-05T08:57:00.001+05:30

Dear Cumbum thatha

You'll never be gone for me. I can still hear echoes of your voice calling out to me. I don't really comprehend where you've gone or how I can never see or hear or hold your hand again. These are emotions I am not familiar with.

This is the first time someone from my immediate family is leaving me. I never thought it would be almost like a near-death experience in itself. I can't understand why, how or what the purpose of everything is anymore. It just seems so weird.

I'm numb sometimes, crying my heart out at others, and at other times, I can't believe I still do normal things- like brush my teeth, have a bath and eat. I can't believe that we can still continue with our lives so, when you are gone.

I can never see you again! I can't believe we wont have our mock-fights. That you'll never force me, verbally, to eat curd. I wish you lived, with complete health, to see me make something out of my life.

But your health failed, you became frail. I guess somewhere the family expected that in a few months or years, you would leave us forever. But nothing prepared me for that call in the morning. I couldn't understand it. That was the strangest news I've ever heard.

Cumbum thatha, who will I talk to fondly, about our dear town- Cumbum? Who'll I bug to quit smoking?

I wish you had good health and didn't suffer so much. I wish I could have done something, anything to make you have some wonderful months before you had left us.

But I hope now, like they say happens once people die, you've been released of all pains and illness and are once more the strong man I greatly admire.

I wish I had told you how much I admire your strength! Your life fascinated me and your struggle reminds me that I need to be strong now, more than ever. I need to fight it out and pull through, for myself and for you. To make you proud of me, wherever you are.

I wish I could hold your hand and tell you we will always love you. You are a wonderful person and will remain so forever. I just hope you have been able to forget the last few months of pain and confusion.

I shall always remember you by the way you called us 'konde', that lovely voice on the phone telling me a 'hello', all your friendly back-slapping, those numerous card games we played, your amazing cooking, your infinite love for all of us and a million things more.

You are never gone for me, Cumbum thatha. Death will only bring you closer to me. Be by my side always. I love you.

Sandhya

Sounds from the native land

2009-07-22T10:53:00.003+05:30

As I sit in the FVC Studio, a place where my discipline-mates barely/rarely frequent, on a day when I'm not exactly blessed with the best of moods(moderately homesick, missing UG-college friends and other Chennai friends a lot), suddenly I hear Tamil songs playing from somewhere and a random male voice humming and singing along!

However regionalistic that sounds, it felt like home suddenly! And it was a nice warmth that spread through my heart. The sounds from the native land seemed to be visiting me and assuaging the lack inside in a very calm comforting way.

And one after another, that stranger(or maybe a friend) has been playing familiar favourite songs! A part of me wants to just run and thank him for that good playlist and his unplanned thoughtfulness. Another part of me did not want to ever go find out who it was- and stay in the beauty of the moment- strangers reaching out in a strange manner!

Somewhere I feel better, thanks to "Azhagana Rakshasiye", "Kangal Irandaal", "Sundari Neeyum" and "Pudhu Vellai Mazhai".

:)

PANGS!

2009-07-15T08:05:00.001+05:30

Pangs.

Deep deep pangs.

Wishing for home

for familiar ground

for some whiff of kaapi

for mom's lap

sister's teases

dad's friendly fights

everyone's comfortable silences

and those loving familiar faces

A deep need for home

for those old dear things and places

Suddenly

severely

And yet... life tugs you back to reality

and makes you realize

that this, my dear, is existence for a few borrowed years from home.

The life so far...

2009-07-07T03:14:00.001+05:30

Is nice

very interesting

vibrant

active

But the sights and sounds of the old haunt me.

First pangs of Homesickness!

2009-06-26T18:24:00.005+05:30

It is simply a wonderful feeling to be typing away from an i-Mac that has the best of speeds when it comes to the internet, sitting in the IT lab of the college-of-my-dreams!

One really can't ask for more.
And so, one stops talking!

:D

Let life just be this way forever I wouldn't complain one bit too.

:D

Painting my life

2009-06-15T01:09:00.002+05:30

A tinge of deep blue. Freedom and limitless possibilities.

A dark brooding red to hold hostage all the inner faith, ideals and dreams with a steely glint.

A lovely stream of yellow to paint a fiesty streak of happiness.

Black to remind me of the responsibility and talking seriously of restraint.

White for all the discovery yet-to-come.

And a lovely green to talk of the past and go back to it every once a frigid winter or a probing autumn strikes the soul.

Paint my life, for in some ways, I'm living it anew!

:)

...and when it rains...

2009-06-04T18:10:00.001+05:30

It rained here today;a roguish rain that didn't want to pour but didn't want ti just drizzle and die!

It guffawed and gleamed and set in the wind to come swooshing behind my ears and sing in dulcet tones of every rain I'd lived through before and remembered.

Trivandrum. Around 1995

A trip to Veli beach. Gray sandy beach, a gray sky to match with. And an endless Arabian sea. Rain. In little soft drops, like the ending notes of music...a trace of zari at the skirt ends of pretty little running girls! Green and brown coconut trees swaying to the music of the wind...

Lonavala 1997. Train.

A long winding train. Playing hide and seek with caves. 'Taal' playing in my old green Walkman. Rain. Mountains that touched the sky providing a backdrop. Strangers-all of us in the bay- but sharing a common few seconds, staring out of the window at those gray clouds and mighty mountains and the lush green. Somewhere near Lonavala, when the chikkis came to haunt, there was a picture perfect moment. The image- still fresh in my mind.

Bombay. 1997.

Shopping for shoes near Matunga with Saraswathi Periamma. Braving the crowds, battling the slush. Drenched from head to toe. The howling winds freezing us to the marrow. And the first-and self-imposed last- of a high-heeled sandal!

July 2007. Delhi

India Gate. Long sticks with swirls of shocking-pink cotton candy stuck on them. Two sticks for me-one for each hand- to feed my greedy mouth. Eating in turns. Steaming biriyani, sitting on the lawns.

Rain...

One plastic ball. Football in the rain. Seniors. Juniors. Friends. Foes. In unison. My sandal comes off my feet- a new football for them. Funny scuffles to get them back on to my feet.

Photographs from beneath umbrellas- as if taking something from the rain in stealth. Happy faces.

Marudamalai, Coimbatore. 2007.

Hill top. Swirling skirts of women's sarees. Dupattas wanting to fly off in the wind. Family. Importantly, cousins!

Cloudy skies. Wrathful winds. A divine presence hovering about- that which I can't see or feel inside the sanctum sanctorum. I look up at the sky. Power. Might. Bhakthi.

A wind strong enough to lift us up and throw us into nothingness. A quick urge to let go of the little childish hand that grasps my hand to leave everything and dare the wind to whisk me away.

A cave. A sanctuary for a sage. A strange story. Visions of voodoo. Mysticism. Vermillion, ash and turmeric. Big round beady-black eyes. Fat red beads. Tongues red. Eerie.

Mild rain. Soothing. Calming. making me believe once again...

And a taxi ride home...

Okkiyam. 2007-08

A rickety green Madras local bus.Half past seven in the morning. Window seat. Endless Old Mahabalipuram road. Trees with airy needle-like leaves. People waking up from slumber. Gray blue skies. A sheet of rain. Skies that look like they hold within a deep secret.

Somewhere, humanity must have had a whisker of a chance at unraveling the deep mysteries of the universe that day. A beautiful house...and suddenly... the Okkiyam Lake. A faeryland. Druids and pixies and brownies morphing themselves into tall trees and forming a circlet of vigil around the lake...like a crown on the crest of the head. Such perfect beauty. Tears in my eyes.

My Balcony. 2008

Inky blue night. Some unworldly guests to the heavens above earth. The skies were decked up with a gloss unsurpassed by anything before. And suddenly, it rains. Feet propped up on the balcony sill. A plastic chair puffed up with pillows. Music in the ears. Loud singing-along session, tossing off all worldly cares and societal stares. Bliss. Freedom. Expression. Relief. I

Yercaud. 2008

Nine in the night. Wild bison on the prowl. A brave taxi driver and a brave guide to escort one suddenly brave and reckless family of four. Mother.Father.Sister. Me.

Pitch darkness. Pagoda Point. Stones placed on one another like an Indian Stonehenge of sorts. Drizzle. Lightening. Thunder. Glimpses of a faraway temple. Light shimmering like jewels from the valley below. Scary. Humbling. Brave. Brilliant. A moment worth dying for.

My Balcony. Today.

A bowl of mango-banana fruit salad soaked in creamy milk and served chilled. Wondrous music played to suit the mood, by a kindred spirited sister. Rain falling...pattering...pelting...and pouring!!!

On my eyes... on my cheek...on the bridge of my beaky nose...caressing...teasing...taunting...playing...

Wind howling around. Reminding me of every rainy day I've lived through...

To bring to you a smile

2009-06-02T19:59:00.001+05:30

What must I do, dear friend,

to bring that mad smile on your face

Should I sing in the most off-key of voices

or make faces, that amused you those days?

You're the childhood friend I never had

the twin-thinker that I cherish, glad.

It hurts to see you down and low

and putting life on pause and going so slow

Have you looked lately into the mirror

to see those eyes gleaming

with all the world's talent

and intelligence, beaming?

Dear kiddo-friend, I hope you smile

I wish I could bring it back on your face

and erase those clouds that haunt your eyes

and get the happiness back to your gaze.

Smile, for life is yet to come

and whatever sorrows knock today

shall pause to teach

but hurt you, nay!

Smile, for your future stretches ahead

with loads of promises, success in its tread.

Smile, for we want you to smile always

as we know you that way and want that all through the days!!!

Technorati Tags: friend,smile

bleargh-2 within minutes

2009-05-30T23:50:00.002+05:30

WHERE is everyone when you need them the most!?

NO! NO ONE will be there!

THAT is reality.
Bites!

Crabbity-babbity!

2009-05-30T23:44:00.003+05:30

I want chocolate
or chick-flick
or candle light bubble blowing new year
or a bunch of long stemmed yellow roses
or a nice big warm hug in person now
or some great news to feel elated(new news)
or an orange Popsicle
or a tyre-kuchchi running on streets of Cumbum

I want something NOW!

I'm just so blah with work and isolation!!!!

BLEARGHHH!

Life-1

2009-05-30T18:18:00.004+05:30

(words that came out of a chat conversation at 2:30 am with a dear friend!)

"There are no ifs and buts in life"~ Sunil Gavaskar

He used that sentence in a match,during commentary and although I don't remember the match or the date or who was playing against whom, that line stayed with me all through.

It was beautiful and very very true!

What you make out of your life- only YOU are responsible for it. There's no use saying "If only I had used up that opportunity", "If only I had not got myself into that mess".

They wont change things.

YOU decide!

One needs to be a decisive person, else, it's worse than death.

Inactivity eats away happiness like that worm that gnaws through your books. You wouldn't know or see a thing till it leaves behind that deep gashing hole...words eaten up...important words...whole chunks!

Scary!
The story makes no sense anymore!
And the same applies to life...

Music and inner peace

2009-05-30T18:08:00.001+05:30

There really is nothing I want more than a good song~when I work. A soul is at peace and the mind is working properly when there's great music playing in the ears!

Honestly, no matter what happens in life, I guess as long as I find a song to go with my mood, I should be ok. I know that sounds darned weird and downright dumb, but it is true. When you actually discover someone has a song that's just-right for the moment, it gives you such a fellow-feeling with the writer, that it makes you get excited about it no matter what!

It's like discovering that your roommate also loves to drink tea at midnight and follow it up with a nice conversation for an hour or so! How delightful does that sound!!! :D

So, as I've been doing the trims and the fillets and the mirrors on CAD, music has been playing in the side. I've just begun to try out different kinds of music. The prudishness in the head has been facing a melt-down for the past 5 yrs. And slowly but steadily, I've become a big fan of English movies and a select genre of English music. In the sense, the genre is not your rock, hip hop, jazz kinds.. in fact I don't recognize any genre except Jazz(and I LOVE it!!!). The genre I'm talking about is the kind that comes with some great lyrics and a wonderful tune to go with it, backed by powerful vocals.

Be it off-beat like Baz Leurman's(I hope I got your spelling right, dear fellow crusader!) 'Sunscreen' or the ever-favourite 'Hotel California'(Thanks Varun for telling me about the supposed Satanic verses and getting me curious about this song! :P), nice chick-music like 'Holding Out for a Hero'(Frou Frou version) or good old Animated music (Aaliyah's "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia) to the most wonderful music from the Classics like Audrey singing 'Moonriver' or Nat King Cole going a soulful 'When I fall in love': I am transported!

Some songs, like Moonriver, Vienna(Billy Joel, I worship thee), Rainy Days and Mondays(Carpenters: Karen has the most wonderful voice!) and Only Hope(Mandy Moore) have me listening to them repeatedly!!!

I might STILL have a very restricted knowledge of English music, but I love the ones I listen to.

Thank god for music! It helps me retain my sanity and ah... before I forget, gifts me SUCH a lovely feeling about life, that NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I'm made happy in a jiffy! :)

Good old music.. what would I do without you?

DREAMS

2009-05-24T01:24:00.001+05:30

Dreams...

flitting across like flies

hovering over my head.

Some-pretty; and let off to pass.

Some fanciful and extravagant,

and stopped with a swat!

Insistent

Persistent

Repetitive, some dreams.

That can't be let go or stopped

that are like mosquitoes-omnipresent

gently sucking your blood

while you notice not

and on leaving

a pain sharp and biting, brought.

Multi-coloured dreams

fluttering around

wings and stings

beady eyed and black

wispy, fragile and also not!

VOTING

2009-05-13T14:05:00.001+05:30

Today happens to be the the Lok Sabha Elections 2009 Day in Chennai. On a wonderful and as-usual long conversation with friend, philosopher, guide and fellow traveller on the path of life, Varun aka Dodo, these discussions stemmed and both our gray cells got working.

The following are a few sentiments we both jointly express and wish to see being implemented in our beautiful land.

>>> We as citizens should rather than discussing whether to vote or not, get ourselves to educate the rural folk about the workings of democracy and prevent them from getting enticed by free offers and subsidized rates.

As a country, our strength lies in the villages. People there, in most villages, are in an abject state of misery. They fight for basic sustenance and any offers of free goods and low prices are what would help them survive.

In such 'survival of the fittest' situations, an intelligent man's strategic propaganda will make no sense! What they want is their rice and bean and their vote shall go to the very parties that promise these.

What we must do here is to make them understand party politics and get them to see that it is of no long term solution.

One must get down to the so-often-mentioned grassroots and educate the poor to realize and recognize the power they hold and get them to use it wisely.

>>> Instead of complaining that the educated don't vote, find newer means of getting them to vote.

In a fast-paced world where almost all the educated and working people fight for seconds to relax, asking them to vote, in a land where no dramatic good has happened since independence, is near-futile!

Half of our learned folks are abroad and the rest are too caught up with the work-whirl to take time out to vote.

Facilities like SMS voting(free) and Internet voting facilities should be made available to the public.

Like an ATM card has a secret PIN, every Voter's ID no should have an associated secret PIN number, that could allow the access of the person to vote from anywhere authentically.

This shall see a definite and drastic increase in the polling percentage and lead to, hopefully, better governance.

>>> Make certain public services, compulsory for all the contestants.

The contestants of a particular constituency/region, should be made to do public awareness campaigning for a month before the elections. This is to spread general information about elections, politics,etc and NOT about their party.

In this period, the contestant shall be allowed only a restricted number of helpers who can aid him in his work. He needs to make sure he reaches out to every single locality in person and not by proxy. Organized street-wise/locality wise meetings should be organized and door-to-door spreading of awareness should also be executed.

Although this seems like a tough call, one feels that it is of utmost importance for hierarchy and power-play to be destroyed, and a person-to-person contact and humanitarian considerations to be immediately established.

>>> Improve Organizational efficiency and destroy hierarchy

In India, one sees people giving undue importance to power and position rather than ideas and skills. What one must realize that although age, experience and position may make a person better equipped to take decisions, it may not necessarily be so! Also, a person who may not have any kind of power to make that decision can definitely come up with a better solution to a given problem and has to be respected for it.

Governance is for the better functioning of the land. Due to these mismanagement and disorganization issues, we see even the little good that could reach the people, going horribly awry!

***

When all of the above are executed, there shall definitely be a visible improvement in the scheme of things and we will actually be able to establish a better rule over the country.

We wonder if ever these shall actually get implemented. But with all the kind of restrictions that the present situation poses in the form of work and education, this is the little way we are trying to reach society immediately.

Do pass on your suggestions, opinions etc on this issue through your comments.

And, DO exercise your vote.

You'd rather have voted than let someone else, misuse your vote to gain their selfish means!

Technorati Tags: Voting,elections,Loksabha 2009,India