Thursday, May 29, 2003

Tuesday, May 27, 2003

I'm in the mood to be violently ill...

To throw glasses off the rooftop and pluck the grass fron its deepest roots, to bash random people and draw claw marks in red ink....
Might as well add to the list while I'm at it.

1. Peel skin off in patterns of squares
2. Stick stones in all my shoe soles
3. Rip the seats off new bikes
4. Dunk every person that tells me not to do whatever it is that he tells me not to do
5. Scream gibberish at people who create scenes on roads
6. Scream

And no, I'm not suicidal. I just want nothing to do with this dastardly business of decison-making.
Couldn't I have found a slower train? This one travelling at the speed of rotting light, threatened to put my old Fiat to shame.
But anyway, it did calm down the frenzy I am so dying to get into...

Plonked down in a corner of the ladies' compartment and watched innumerable dramas simultaneously unfold...
Soap Opera No.1: Lady with the lovely nose ranting in voice like foghorn about her sister-in-law who set another in-law on fire...
Soap Opera No.2: Kid on the top berth spraying remnants of stale bread on the hellion below...and the grandmom jus called the kid a har**mi...what will this country ever come to?;)
Soap Opera No.3: Is more like a documentary...the price of every commodity under the Sun is being subjected to a comparative analysis...Alphonso mangoes, Kokum, Potatoes, Tomatoes, Madras chillies, Cane Baskets, etc etc etc...and incidentally, these were two extremely housewifely women, each gabbing in their respective tongues to perfect comprehension..also expounded that the reason for the unexpected lowering of prices was the war in Iraq and the closure of exports...I so love this country...

And the faces, oh the faces...lined and smooth and dark and light and proud and wrinkled...the faces you see on trains..stupefying and beautiful....

The 10.40 local from Pune Station....is my only chance at sanity...

Thursday, May 22, 2003

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

I-I thought of that old joke, you know, this-this-this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy. He thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" And the guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much how how I feel about relationships. You know, they're totally irrational and crazy and absurd and ... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us need the eggs.

- Woody Allen, Annie Hall
love arrives and dies
in all disguises
and we fear to move
because of old darknesses
or childhood danger

so our withdrawing words
our skating hearts


- Micheal Ondaatje, Handwriting

Tuesday, May 20, 2003

Ever tried sitting pillion the other way round? Is damn good fun, the world does a whirly-jig and everything seems right all over again.

I retraced old paths, brick by brick, stone by stone.
Climbed up the water tank (sans parental permission of course), ran down the slope, balanced on the rickety stile and stuck my head through the bars of the jungle-gym. Smiled non-stop as I spied old loves, old hates, old 'doesn't matter' peeping through faded time. How did I ever find the courage to leave all this?

Saw the entire industrial complex all over again. This used to be my backyard. The smells and the sounds and the tankers and the trucks. It always seemed like I would end up working in one of these. Be a part of the great Indian industrial revolution. Instead I ended up in what a friend refers to as the elusive 'tertiary' strata of the occupational hierarchy. Somewhere that still bothers me no end. My father has always worked in industry. He puts in long hours of work in the living breathing backbone of a textile plant. I know what he makes. I can see, touch and taste (not advisable) dimethyl teryphthalate.
What do I do?

Sunday, May 18, 2003

Promises are made on paper chains strung in the sky
Lit for ninety-one nights
Burnt on the ninety-second
Embers soaring in the air
Dark-eyed children orphaned and lost
They settled on his sleeve with the lint and the dust
Carried along in the sway of his limbs
While I watched

It all passes by in a blur.
The superfluity of existence and the weightlessness of the body.
The redundancy of memory and the forgotten glimpse of an unseeing touch.
To seduce is to rule. To be seduced is to fall.
Beginnings will be grafted onto endings...
For love of the game...

Thursday, May 15, 2003

Just another video game. I'm constantly navigating levels, adjusting tempo, pulling the reins.
Pity the LCD's cracked.
Is a beautiful broken display.
Sometimes, what 'may have been' is so much easier to live with than what 'is'.
To hell and back...

Thursday, May 08, 2003

Every second step is a decision point. Life is as demanding as I am often accused of being. Is there a connection?
Time to take a big risk. I haven't yet. And maybe I will.

Need to make a dash for it while my feet are still running.

Wednesday, May 07, 2003

What do you define as being a cheat? Or a liar? Or a threat?
Infinite instances when I can twist my structures to accomodate your wrongs and mine. And seize the moment and wax eloquent. On how morals should be archived while I dance the night and trip the light. It isn't so difficult.

I am adept at living multiple lives. I am fifteen thousand gestures and thirty thousand words. Shouldn't be a problem to characterise and categorise. Once upon a very long time, I hung up my boots because I was bored. I just wanted to get used to myself.
Time to do the manoeuvres again.
It's like riding a cycle. You never forget. The moves or the falls.

Would you cheat me as easily as I would you?
Desperation is defeating. Nazguls of my soul. Or is that an oxymoron?

I do not like extremist fantasies or emotion at its zenith.
Do not shake my boat and do not churn the waters.
I like my bubbles. Don't burst them.
Most times, logic is the only real building block. The rest are crumbs and pretend soldiers. Hanging around to make useless conversation, unholy gaps and incoherent lulls. Logic and the discipline of reason. The surety of unsurety. Lord it's killing...

Tuesday, May 06, 2003

entrancing
You have an entrancing kiss~ the kind that leaves
your partner bedazzled and maybe even feeling
he/she is dreaming. Quite effective; the kiss
that never lessens and always blows your
partner away like the first time.


What kind of kiss are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

My ideal mate is Aragorn!
Aragorn


Who is your Ideal Lord of the Rings (male) Mate?
brought to you by Quizilla

I tuned my mandolin, plucking deseprately, trying to eke music. Turns out I didn't have to make the effort after all. It played on its own. A little old, a little rusty, forgotten tunes, unsyncopated rhythm..music nevertheless.

And thus we polish the instruments of our valour. Through time and legend. And memory and abyss. Riding into what must be.

Monday, May 05, 2003

If I stopped thinking of things as a process, I might consider thinking them beautiful...

Saturday, May 03, 2003

I don't mind
a)Falling headlong down the stairs
b)Scraping a knee
c)Glass shards in my hand

Really, I don’t…

But I hate being bored and I hate not knowing…and I hate admitting that I know what I do not wish to know…
There are always alternate realities to traverse. Multiple sliding doors. One way or another…

Friday, May 02, 2003

The cohesive forces between liquid molecules are responsible for the phenomenon known as surface tension.
The molecules at the surface do not have other like molecules on all sides of them and consequently they cohere more strongly to those directly associated with them on the surface.

I play my cards all wrong, I never know to quit when I'm ahead…but I never wanted to play the game…hence I retire, in ignominy and defeat…why do my feet feel so light?
Amma said things would be fine, Daddy said otherwise.
Between the two of them, they drew up the blueprint of my balancing act
I will take notes while you dance and I will hold the mike when you sing. I don't like the lights but my eyes get bored. Show me your world cause mine sucks. It was different and doubtless will be. But here and now is a killer game…
I am dispensable

Thursday, May 01, 2003

I could live like this forever. Under the mottled light of a cane lamp, in one corner of a 6 x 5 room. And put myself under a microscope. Broken into the tiniest elements, I exist inspite of myself...the myopia, the warts, the greed and the lust. In full view of a world that deserves far better. And 'deserve' is a word out of a mad man's realm. And mad is a tad better than sad, wistful, longing and lonely. Mad is my purdah for the week. Till it is torn away to reveal worse sins. Crouching in mock fear, forerunner of illness, precursor of doom. My panacae on a billboard at the station crossing, 'Magic hai tho mumkin hai'...
Life...the prudence of it....dealt out in careful measured bits...lest it hit all at once...
And then the deluge, the one-step-short-of-numbing pain
10. Write off bad debts