The persistence of memory...

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2011-05-24T20:50:00.001+05:30

the brittle eve broke
into a thousand stars
upon my longing
they had come to me

gentle night fought through
light and whirling sand

she caught my words
blown on roaming winds

now I wait hoping on return
they may carry her too

Steel/Silk

2011-02-11T11:14:00.003+05:30

Smooth, silver, substances
Merge though impenetrable.
Cold edges slide off the side
Neat and definite, swift separation.

Trace the tips along
its curves and folds
against your cheek
wrist thigh
brush its surface

And look through into
past the centers that divide
by purpose and a mile
for the reinvented merging of ...

In defence of their gay children, 19 parents go to SC

2011-02-09T20:34:00.002+05:30

Nineteen parents of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people have come together in the Supreme Court to stop the State from criminalising their children. Their argument chiefly is they know their children the best.

They come from across India and all walks of life, including homemakers, academics and teachers, a postal employee and the head of a co-operative bank. Among them are film-maker Chitra Palekar and Minna Saran, mother of film-maker Nishit Saran who died in a road accident in 2002.

Lending them support is film director Shyam Benegal, pitching in as intervener in the Supreme Court in the battle to sustain the 2009 Delhi High Court verdict decriminalising sex between consenting adults of the same sex.

In an extraordinary expression of solidarity with their children’s cause to decriminalise their identity, the 19 parents have joined hands to fight in courts a “sustained attack” by organisations and private persons who insist that their children’s sexuality, if not criminalised, would destroy “family values”.

“This biased and misleading response has now been countered in the Supreme Court by a group of people who very definitely do know a homosexual person, their very own child,” the parents issued a statement.

“They come from across India and all walks of life, including homemakers, academics and teachers, a postal employee and the head of a co-operative bank. Nothing could be more typically Indian than this group of parents, who are doing nothing more than defending the rights of their children for a safe and unprejudiced life,” they identified themselves.

Backing them, Benegal, in a statement, said he was “committed to the rights of all minorities in India to be treated equally, and live with dignity”.

He said “criminalisation of any minority, including LGBT (lesbian, gay, bi-sexual and transgender) people is unconstitutional, violates the ethos of the nation and attacks the fabric of the Constitution.”

The joint petition also features Munithayamma as one of the 19 parents. The mother of Veena S confesses to have hit her daughter, unable to fathom how her child, born a male, was slowly changing her identity. She is now ready to pitch in for Veena before the Supreme Court.

Minna Saran, Nishit’s mother, helped her film-maker son document his struggles to come to terms with his sexuality. He died in a road accident and she went on to set up the Nishit Saran Foundation in his memory to help LGBT youth and their families.

In their petition, the parents argue that the “real harm” to family values is not caused by their children but by “divisive and discriminatory laws” like Section 377 IPC.

“It is Section 377 which is a threat to family values, as it directly affects the rights of the applicants (parents) to safeguard their families from illegal and arbitrary intrusion from the state authorities,” states their petition in the Supreme Court.

“Section 377 invades the sanctity of the family, home and allows the unlawful attacks on the honour and reputation of both parents of LGBT persons as well as LGBT persons themselves,” it adds.

Chitra Palekar “testifies” how isolating it was to be the mother of a “lesbian daughter”, Dr Shalmalee Palekar, an academic, “since the criminality associated with homosexuality prevented any open discussion”.

She relates how she came to understand and accept her daughter by reading books on LGBT and meeting them. But she is also aware of the social stigma which would prevent many other less well-situated parents from having the same opportunities.

Funeral Blues

2010-09-22T11:06:00.002+05:30

(I first heard this in one of my favorite movies Four Weddings And A Funeral... and i had a conversation yesterday that made me think of it... watch the video of John Hannah speaking it in the movie... its very very beautiful)

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

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

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden

Sanved, Kolkata

2010-07-23T12:35:00.002+05:30

Now working with Darpana and doing some amazing work...

http://kolkatasanved.org/index.htm

THE JERWOOD CONTEMPORARY MAKERS SHOW

2010-07-14T17:46:00.001+05:30

'The most satisfying thing a human being can do – and the sexiest – is to make something.
Life is about relationship – to each other – and to the material world. Making something is a relationship.
The verb is the clue. We make love, we make babies, we make dinner, we make sense, we make a difference, we make it up, we make it new….

True, we sometimes make a mess, but creativity never was a factory finish.
The wrestle with material isn’t about subduing; it is about making a third thing that didn’t exist before. The raw material was there, and you were there, but the relationship that happens between maker and material allows the finished piece to be what it is. And that allows a further relationship to develop between the piece and the viewer or the buyer.

Both relationships are in every way different from mass production or store bought objects that, however useful, are dead on arrival. Anyone who makes something finds its life, whether it’s Michelangelo releasing David from twenty tons of Carrera marble, or potter Jane Cox spinning me a plate using the power of her shoulders, the sureness of her hands, the concentration of her mind.
I have a set of silverware made by an eighteenth century silverworker called Hester Bateman, one of the very few women working in flatware at that time. When I eat with her spoons, I feel the work and the satisfaction that went into making them – the handle and bowl are in equal balance – and I feel a part of time as it really is – not chopped into little bits, but continuous. She made this beautiful thing, it’s still here, and I am here too, writing my books, eating my soup, two women making things across time. I feel connection, respect, delight. And it is just a spoon…

But the thing about craft, about the making of everyday objects that we can have around us, about the making of objects that are beautiful and/or useful, is that our everyday life is enriched.
How it is enriched? To make something is to be both conscious and concentrated – it is a fully alert state, but not one of anxious hyper-arousal. We all know the flow we feel when we are absorbed in what we do. I find that by having a few things around me that have been made by someone’s hand and eye and imagination working together, I am prevented from passing through my daily life in a kind of blur. I have to notice what is in front of me – the table, the vase, the hand-blocked curtains, the thumb prints in the sculpture, the lettering block. I have some lamps made by Marianna Kennedy, and what I switch on is not a bulb on a stem; it is her sense of light.

So I am in relationship to the object and in relationship to the maker. This allows me to escape from the anonymity and clutter of the way we live now. Instead of surrounding myself with lots of things I hardly notice, I have a few things that also seem to notice me. No doubt this is a fantasy – but…

The life of objects is a strange one.
A maker creates something like a fossil record. She or he is imprinted in the piece. We know that energy is never lost, only that it changes its form, and it seems to me that the maker shape-shifts her/himself into the object. That is why it remains a living thing.
Of course it is possible to design an object that will be made by others – but that is an extension of the creative relationship, not its antithesis. It is the ceaseless reproduction of meaningless objects that kills creativity for all of us, as producers and consumers.
But are producers and consumers who we want to be?

To make is to do. It is an active verb. Creativity is present in every child ever born. Kids love making things. There are different doses and dilutions of creativity, and the force is much stronger in some than in others – but it is there for all of us, and should never have been separated off from life into art.
I would like to live in a creative continuum that runs from the child’s drawing on the fridge to Lucien Freud, from the coffee cups made by a young ceramicist to Grayson Perry’s pots.

We don’t need to agonise over the boundaries between ‘art’ and ‘craft’, any more than we should be separating art and life. The boundary is between the creative exuberance of being human, and the monotony of an existence dependent on mass production – objects, food, values, aspirations.

Making is personal. Making is shared. Making is a celebration of who we are.'

~ Jeanette Winterson

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

2010-07-11T20:36:00.003+05:30

Someone in my life is reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery right now and thought this excerpt may mean something to me... she was right. so hear it is... yet another fragment to add to myself.

"....Theo might want to burn cars some day. Because it's a gesture of frustration and anger, and maybe the greatest anger and frustration come not from unemployment or poverty or the lack of a future but from feeling that you have no culture, because you've been torn between cultures, between incompatible symbols. How can you exist if you don't know where you are? What do you do if your culture will always be that of Thai fishing village and of Parisian grands bourgeois at the same time? Or if you're the son of immigrants but also the citizen of an old, conservative nation? So you burn cars, because when you have no culture, you're no longer a civilized animal, you're a wild beast. And a wild beast burns and kills and plagues."

Thanks for thinking of me babe... even when i may scare you.

Sinking in

2010-07-08T23:17:00.000+05:30

Standing on my balcony, souls wet, i find myself once again wishing i could give myself up. Wishing I could close my eyes, tilt my head back and breathe in what my eyes see. Breathe in that gentle touch softer than the fingertips of a child or lover tracing pathways across my face in the silent roar of sudden pleasure. Passion so fierce and pure it leaves invisible winding scars my reflection will lament forevermore. And in the release of that breath I take, I no longer want to be standing on that balcony watching, waiting for the falling rain to encompass me and hold me in her embrace. An embrace unlike anything ever felt. Cradled in her truth and timelessness. So close i am shielded by her, covered in her. So close I am inside her. And with that one breath to become a part of her.

Returning

2010-06-24T00:24:00.003+05:30

unknowingly my eyes search
my head leans into the silence
searching for a stirring in the black
my hand itches to reach out
into the night that is not yet set
i have not known time till now
not felt the weight of this uncertainty
(knowing you are unaware of my presence)
i have not known what it means to wait

Fragments

2010-06-23T17:21:00.003+05:30

Broken pieces of myself
I find
In places i have never been.

Hidden under layers of time
Secrets resting with bones
Not mine.

THE INDIAN SERENADE

2010-06-23T17:05:00.003+05:30

I Arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me -- who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!


The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream--
And the Champak's odours [pine]
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must on thine,
O belovèd as thou art!


O lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast:
O press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last!

~ Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792-1822)

Spin-ster!

2010-06-22T23:44:00.008+05:30

(I wrote this as an accompaniment to a short ariel-dance piece I choreographed for myself as part of a 3 week ariel performance workshop with Brandy Leary... il try and figure out how to put the vid of it up next!)

I awake to the sound of my breathing. Within myself first and then on the outside. Where I have awoken I cannot always tell right away... At times I wake into a dream that resembles a reality, other times into a reality that could be a dream. But then again who can tell which is which?

Haven't you ever wondered if you'll suddenly wake up and find all of this has disappeared? that it was only a dream?

I no longer do.

My faith lies in the laws of gravity. Especially when they fail. I need nothing more, for i know in the end i still feel alive.

I continue spinning, in and out of control... and when the world is a blur even when steady, how does it matter what direction I am turning in?

I am asked to turn in sync with the world by people who do not turn it. But I move to my own rhythm. The one i began with, awoke with.

In and out of consciousness too i go, only to wake some place else.

Watching the skies

2010-06-09T00:38:00.002+05:30

I do not see the sun. But the sky is filled with clouds a brilliant golden orange. The light plays hide and seek with itself as the clouds dance across the sky. A Kite rides the wind waiting for something, for it watches what goes on below but does not hesitate. The air smells like rain, yet not a drop has hit the ground. And as if in response to my realizing its nearing the peacocks begin to call from the rooftops around me. The traces of the sun are quickly fading leaving what seems to me a clear blue sky. My deceptive eyes watch the light clouds, layered so densely i cannot see beyond, as they pass overhead bringing towards me a much darker canopy, steady in its course. I have been told by an elder that it is not the dark clouds that bring rain. I hope they were wrong.

you there...

2010-02-21T05:40:00.001+05:30

trust that i will not fall
alone
your hand will follow
when in need
i shall still resist
until i need no longer
that hand to hold

trust that i will know
for longer
than my heart does remember
the hand to hold
when in need i will
reach out
to the hand to hold

Drunken painful rants...

2010-01-30T14:00:00.001+05:30

Why is it that those of us who start out as losers, end losers? Just cause im used to being dumped... used and taken for granted, doesnt mean i want people to treat me that way... But it keeps happening... Dosent matter where i am or who with. What this girls problem is or if she really has one at all... none of it matters, as long as im at the receiving end of the bull shit and pain...

I feel like a moron tonight... for trusting someone.... for thinking that if i do the right thing things would work out... for putting so much effort into doing the right thing and being screwed over anyway.... i feel like a moron because even though i know the right thing gets me nowhere, gets me hurt, gets me pushed aside, i insist on taking only that path...and for believing that something good could come my way...

There is nothing to say that will rid me of my annoyance, nothing that will ease the pain... so im writing this instead... venting my frustration and hoping it will empty my mind and heart enough to let me rest tonight... (seeing as its 3 in the morning!)

Rainbow 'Round My Shoulders

2009-12-02T03:24:00.000+05:30

I had my weekly dance history class on wednesday morning... and today we got to learn a bit about Lester Horton... and from him of course came Alvin Ailey and all of his work...

The point is, we got to watch a video of the Ailey dancers performing Don McKayle's 'Rainbow 'Round My Shoulder'... first choreographed and performed in 1956, using a series of (chain gang) work songs tied together as the soundtrack.

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL... and i could tell everyone thought so... as soon as it started we were all completely captured... everyone in the room went quiet, stopped taking notes and fidgeting, eating or finishing their coffee's... we just watched the 12 black male dancers move and listened to the haunting music...

I dont know about everyone, but i could feel at least a couple of us feeling completely taken in... wanting to get up and join them... wanting to move to the music... wanting to feel the extreme emotions it was creating on the dancers on stage and inside us... wanting to express that in our movement...

There is something i would love to see live... and i think its something everyone i know should see as well.... at least all the dancers, choreographers and the likes... im so glad i got to experiance that... thanks Rose-Anne! :-)

time... in words!

2009-10-23T23:16:00.002+05:30

Sooooo.... for one of my classes i have to write about time.

yes, thats the only instruction we were given... so imagine the magnitude of possibility... but of course, yours truly cant think of one decent thing to say! Trust me to go into my writers block, frozen ink, drifty minded, useless phase... JUST when Iv been given the chance to write about something awesome!! Grrr... There are time i just wish i had a remote to work my brain so i could have slightly more control over whats going on in it... and more importantly, what its capable of, when!

I know i can write... relatively well at least... and at times... pretty damn well... but i just don't know how to access that... that... material? Skill? PLACE... inside me when i need to! And i really want to be able to... because there are ideas... there are beautiful words... there are so many things just waiting to be written... and they just wont step out of the darkness...

and im tired of this now... lets just keep our fingers crossed and hope that time inspires me...! Both literally and otherwise!

Beginning Improvisation on tuesdays...

2009-10-13T09:11:00.003+05:30

Something i wrote first in my head while i was still in class... lets just say it counts as a personal reflection piece...!

Tuesday - the 6th of Oct.

Once a week I take a class called Beginning Improvisation, a requirement for freshmen who are dance thirds. Now, I am no stranger to improvisation exercises. Both in theater and dance I have explored the mind/body space that improvisation allows you to tap into. I have found a voice of my own in that space, which, let me clarify, is and hopefully always will be growing and transforming into newer things.

While I do believe the self-awareness and learning one gets from these explorations is limitless, I find myself bored and more importantly, unchallenged in these classes where we are discovering places I have already been. Spaces I have already created and re-created many times over.

I wonder when I think about it, if having to learn how to improvise is in fact as much of a contradiction in reality as it seems in my mind. How can you teach something that by definition is meant to be spontaneous and almost entirely self-generated? If improvisation in the performing arts context means to create something that you have never rehearsed before and do something without any preparation, then how can you learn it?

Unlike me, most of my classmates have never done this kind of thing before. And while the questions I posed in the previous paragraph seem reasonable, if not obvious, to me, I understand the need for these classes and this process. For my classmates this class is an introduction to their spontaneous selves. An icebreaker for them to get comfortable with a side of themselves they have probably never had to interact with in a serious, formal manner before now. And while this is usually a completely personal journey of discovery, a well-intentioned push at the starting line can’t hurt.

'Gay Unions Shed Light on Gender in Marriage'

2009-02-03T15:23:00.002+05:30

By TARA PARKER-POPE

Published: June 10, 2008
The New York Times

For insights into healthy marriages, social scientists are looking in an unexpected place.

A growing body of evidence shows that same-sex couples have a great deal to teach everyone else about marriage and relationships. Most studies show surprisingly few differences between committed gay couples and committed straight couples, but the differences that do emerge have shed light on the kinds of conflicts that can endanger heterosexual relationships.

The findings offer hope that some of the most vexing problems are not necessarily entrenched in deep-rooted biological differences between men and women. And that, in turn, offers hope that the problems can be solved.

Next week, California will begin issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, reigniting the national debate over gay marriage. But relationship researchers say it also presents an opportunity to study the effects of marriage on the quality of all relationships.

“When I look at what’s happening in California, I think there’s a lot to be learned to explore how human beings relate to one another,” said Sondra E. Solomon, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Vermont. “How people care for each other, how they share responsibility, power and authority — those are the key issues in relationships.”

The stereotype for same-sex relationships is that they do not last. But that may be due, in large part, to the lack of legal and social recognition given to same-sex couples. Studies of dissolution rates vary widely.

After Vermont legalized same-sex civil unions in 2000, researchers surveyed nearly 1,000 couples, including same-sex couples and their heterosexual married siblings. The focus was on how the relationships were affected by common causes of marital strife like housework, sex and money.

Notably, same-sex relationships, whether between men or women, were far more egalitarian than heterosexual ones. In heterosexual couples, women did far more of the housework; men were more likely to have the financial responsibility; and men were more likely to initiate sex, while women were more likely to refuse it or to start a conversation about problems in the relationship. With same-sex couples, of course, none of these dichotomies were possible, and the partners tended to share the burdens far more equally.

While the gay and lesbian couples had about the same rate of conflict as the heterosexual ones, they appeared to have more relationship satisfaction, suggesting that the inequality of opposite-sex relationships can take a toll.

“Heterosexual married women live with a lot of anger about having to do the tasks not only in the house but in the relationship,” said Esther D. Rothblum, a professor of women’s studies at San Diego State University. “That’s very different than what same-sex couples and heterosexual men live with.”

Other studies show that what couples argue about is far less important than how they argue. The egalitarian nature of same-sex relationships appears to spill over into how those couples resolve conflict.

One well-known study used mathematical modeling to decipher the interactions between committed gay couples. The results, published in two 2003 articles in The Journal of Homosexuality, showed that when same-sex couples argued, they tended to fight more fairly than heterosexual couples, making fewer verbal attacks and more of an effort to defuse the confrontation.

Controlling and hostile emotional tactics, like belligerence and domineering, were less common among gay couples.

Same-sex couples were also less likely to develop an elevated heartbeat and adrenaline surges during arguments. And straight couples were more likely to stay physically agitated after a conflict.

“When they got into these really negative interactions, gay and lesbian couples were able to do things like use humor and affection that enabled them to step back from the ledge and continue to talk about the problem instead of just exploding,” said Robert W. Levenson, a professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley.

The findings suggest that heterosexual couples need to work harder to seek perspective. The ability to see the other person’s point of view appears to be more automatic in same-sex couples, but research shows that heterosexuals who can relate to their partner’s concerns and who are skilled at defusing arguments also have stronger relationships.

One of the most common stereotypes in heterosexual marriages is the “demand-withdraw” interaction, in which the woman tends to be unhappy and to make demands for change, while the man reacts by withdrawing from the conflict. But some surprising new research shows that same-sex couples also exhibit the pattern, contradicting the notion that the behavior is rooted in gender, according to an abstract presented at the 2006 meeting of the Association for Psychological Science by Sarah R. Holley, a psychology researcher at Berkeley.

Dr. Levenson says this is good news for all couples.

“Like everybody else, I thought this was male behavior and female behavior, but it’s not,” he said. “That means there is a lot more hope that you can do something about it.”

Kubla Khan (1816)

2008-11-09T23:47:00.003+05:30

I had an amazing English Lit. teacher (yes you harmony!) in my last two years of school... and amongst many things she taught me, in and out of class... at some point she brought this for us to read and work on... Kubla Khan... who knows what about it caught my eye... but from the first time i read it in class... from those 2 hours we worked on it... the endless times i re read it and she spoke about it... told us how it got written... why it wasnt ever completed... I fell in love with it...

today all of a sudden i thought of it again.. and realised i hadnt read it in a long time... i could barely remember what it was about or why i liked it... but i guess it doesnt really matter why... thats something i love about some kinds of poetry... you dont have to have a reason to enjoy it... well, here it is... for whoever wants to read it... and for me, whnever i want to read it...

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Showreel

2008-11-01T16:53:00.005+05:30

Finally managed to create a short showreel of my theatre and dance-drama work to send as part of my Uni application... check it out... this is the youtube link... please feel free to comment....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmI21Ofqwok

Humanity, the nightmare (viewer discression adivised)

2008-10-03T13:18:00.018+05:30

I havent had the chance to re read this and edit or correct it in any way... so please excuse the errors or anything else...

[03-10-08]

I had a nightmare last night. One that was very unlike the ones iv had before... in this one there was no dual presence, with one me inside the story and the other watching from the outside, aware that this is only a dream... there was no knowledge at all that it wasnt real... it was too vivid and palpable for that... it resembled reality too much for the thought to have even occurred... and thats what made so much more frightening when i thought about it this morning.

I couldnt help but think about it all morning. Where it came from and what it was supposed to mean. The answer to the former i think i know now... the past couple of weeks have been full of frustrated conversations about the hateful and uncompassionate world we live in as a result of a reading various horrid stories from the newspaper every morning... and the list of is extensive; the Bihar victims, the unending bomb blasts around the country, the reviewing of the 2002 riots and the Nanavati commission report, the manipulation of the naive and stupid minds of our people, Sarah Palin proudly announcing that every American should be allowed to own a gun, the very real possibility of the nuclear deal and the ease with which it can be misused, hearing that 17 female fetuses had been found in a garbage can in Gujarat; many mangled by hungry strays, the countless stories of rape ranging from professors raping (and blackmailing) entire groups of female students in colleges to uncles raping their 6 month old nieces... these are only naming a few... enough to explain where this particular dream found its fuel...as for the second question, what it means... i have no idea... and for some reason, i know there is a part of me that is afraid of knowing the answer.

Now for dream...
------
I found myself in the middle of some kind of huge graduation party... it was the middle of the night and there must have been over 200 students... drinking, dancing, talking loudly, trying to be heard over the music... some talking in groups in quieter corners.. others lined up on the low ledge of a wall, only their silhouettes and lit cigarettes visible to those who bothered to look... walking through the crowd i overheard names that i knew... the names were of two girls that had gone missing from college one day a little over a month ago and i knew they still hadnt been found... i assumed the conversation had come up as it was their batch that was graduating... the party kept going, with people getting more and more drunk and the dancing becoming more and more stupid... how long it was before i saw the light of the projector come on reflecting off the outer wall of the main building im not sure... the first couple of seconds of the video were unclear. Shaky images of hands and even a glimpse of faces. It was as if the camera was already rolling while someone was trying to attach it to its tripod... I realised people had noticed the new source of interest and were walking towards the building to get a better view of whatever it was that was going to be screened. I started to move forward too. Seeing as it was less crowded at the sides i found my way to a spot where i could climb atop a large block of stone where a few others were already perched to get a decent look... The sound came on with a loud crackling noise and the gruff voices of two or maybe three men swept across the crowd, bringing an instant silence... The men were mumbling, making it hard to understand what they were talking about... but even so, there was an unmistakable slur that was heard in all three's voices. It was pretty obvious they were drunk... At this point all we could see on screen were the men's legs. Two in jeans, one in army shorts. The room was not dark. There was harsh white light pouring out of some other room into the one they were in...
--------
(I dont know if i can continue telling this story... i might have to wait till tomorrow to try... the tears are making it hard to see the letters on the screen...)

[04-10-08]

i tried to continue writing the story... but my insides turn every time i even attempt to remember what happened next... i know what did... but to continue writing like that would mean to really see it again... shut my eyes and let the images that terrify me reassemble inside my mind... i cant do it... i cant let myself be part of that night anymore... but i will finish the story... just not in the way it should be told... it might not seem as real as it did in the first part, for i must skip all details... or at least try, for my own sake... i haven't even begun and i can feel my heart beating like a drum against my chest... so let me just get this over with...

---------
Before they realised what had happened they heard muffled screaming... two women... the voices were familiar to some... others only realised it was the missing girls when the men finally moved, giving the crowd their first view at something that would haunt them... and me... for a very long time. The two girls were tied up to two tables that were made to stand vertically... the rope holding their hands and legs apart cut through their wrists sending trickles of blood down their arms, over their stripped bodies, down to the floor... their faces were tired and colourless, glistening with tears.... Their eyes pleading and helpless... shirts gagging both with only enough room for their muffled screams that had been heard... But there were no gasps... no one screamed... no one pointed and whispered in disgust or anger or disbelief ... the silence was deafening... and the thought of what could come next as the clean metal knives the men were holding by their sides came into view, left the crowd in a horrified silence. Throats too dry to speak... chocked with tears they watched as the men grinning in triumph circled the girls... running the cold blade across their faces... and then their necks... their breasts... stomachs... all the way down to their feet, leaving thin marks that ran all the way down... Their was a shuffling of feet as people began to back away... some looked around helplessly, hoping someone else knew what to do... the men continued... their knives digging deeper and deeper with every stroke... laughing at their game...
By the time someone managed to push their way through the panicking, screaming crowd to stop the video the two girls were barely conscious... torn... bleeding... mutilated ... He found the projector cable and jerked it out of its socket, leaving the crowd with nothing but darkness...
------------

As the days go on the images are fading little by little, loosing focus. The details are being lost... but the feeling? The feeling remains... clear as day... The feeling has squirmed its way deep inside me... buried itself in my center... and it continues to send out waves of fear and disgust...

I know i have heard stories like this one before and yet not been this troubled by it.... but i know why this is different... these were not words... not typed up in some newspaper by some random journalist... not edited with all the 'improper' details left out... this was right here, inside me... i saw every bit... and these images are harder to ignore than any words have ever been...

This is our reality today... i could be that girl and so could any of the people i know... and if this is not how one of us gets it... it will be something else... there are more negative forces than there are people who can fight them... this is my reality... and sometimes it makes me want to not live at all... but most of the times it reminds me to fight... to be one more source of strength to the correct side... and thats how i get by.

Schedule for the next 2 weeks!

2008-09-05T10:27:00.005+05:30

The Leopard

2008-08-25T19:27:00.003+05:30

A beautiful story of compassion... the kind of compassion one wishes us humans had more often... a video really worth sharing...

2008-07-21T22:54:00.000+05:30

Today.... umm.... i dont know...

2008-07-21T22:42:00.003+05:30

Soooooo... i figure if iv temporarily lost my writing skills, il at least put up the drawings iv been trying my hand at to ease my mind! At least this way my blog is still up to date right!! :-)

From the last two days...

Soft reactions to hard situations...

2008-07-08T17:25:00.003+05:30

This... like everything else i seem to begin writing, is incomplete... but then again... thats what life feels like right now... so it works... ever changing... ever challenging... but hopefully, not forever incomplete!

Sometimes the world talks to me
tells me not to give up, give in.
Sometimes the world talks to me
and her voice alone i want to hear.

Everything i have learnt is her teaching.
The person i am, an illustration of her genius.
Now I no longer fear not being understood,
For those who loved me taught me to love myself.

Life has been kind to me, i do not complain
But i know hardships come in many forms
The hardest of tests are given to the strong.
Strong who become stronger, as i have.

The walls of my life often close in,
The doors lock themselves, keyless.
The voices inside are unintentionally yours
and i am convinced to do only it's bidding.

The walls of my room may seem a prison,
But these are the walls protecting me.
Inside i am myself, someone very few see.
Inside, i wish to be alone, even with another.

2008-06-23T19:25:00.001+05:30

What is it with some songs and the effect they have on us. Im stuck on one particular one right now, its from the second Aladdin movie, Return Of Jafar. The song is called Forget About Love... go figure! Over the last say, 3 days i think iv heard it over a couple of dozen times... yes, a couple of dozen!! And here i go again putting it on my itunes single repeat mode!! Im going between singing Jasmine, Aladdin and Iago's parts... all that at the moment seem equally relevant to me... which is funny cause the Iago is saying exactly the opposite of the other two... but then again... thats what love does to you right...! Im used to singing Aladdin's part alone, as my ex used to sing Jasmine's part... this is of course where the problem lies i suppose... the absence of another singing voice... both metaphorically and literally speaking... as for Iago... ummm... I'v never sung any songs that he was in... till now i guess!!

Why do i do it? im wondering about that myself... if one were to see me do it... well, lets just say.. its quite a show... especially when im trying to be two characters at the same time... sometimes i just cant decide see...! Anyway, i get all into it and dance around (when the space permits)... make all the right expressions and sing better than usual, as most do when there is no one really watching... then of course, an hour ago i got caught doing a sober version of this in a rickshaw... yeah yeah, i got carried away okay...!

Here is what im thinking, sometimes its cause your hearing what you really want to but no one will tell you cause its not going to happen for you... i know that one sucks big time... if its not this one your on another stage, it'l be because your hearing something you want to say to that person (a lot of times this stage has painful, angry and even hateful music) or of course, when u dont have the courage to say how you feel and thats why... (ps. if its the last one, sing it to her/him... always works!! :-P ).

anyway, the point of all of this... im reminding myself why I love music so much and why its so important to me... it really does help a lot of the healing and growing that we think we have to do alone...!

(CHECK OUT THE VIDEO OF THE SONG...!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMrbT4Ycv1A&feature=related )

The patriot, not me...

2008-06-06T23:17:00.001+05:30

A couple of months ago a close friend asked me if I was a patriot. The answer was an instant and definite no! The conversation fizzled out eventually though leaving me with a lingering thought of why this word did not apply to me. I care deeply for my country, I am committed to making it into a country that I can love and be proud of. I feel that the responsibility of making it reach its potential is every individual’s and mine and that running away and settling abroad for a better pay (what they call the brain drain) is being escapist!

Unfortunately, I have come to think of the word patriot as akin to extremist. This I blame on the connotations the world around me have attached to it. Patriots are those who beat up a fellow Indian because they have an opinion that breaks away from the norms of our society or what Hindus call themselves when trying to purge those who believe in another or no god. Patriotism to me is intolerance.

On the other hand I have to say that in the last year I have realised that many of my friends and acquaintances, most of whom are still finishing their education, seem to agree with my views on India and are almost as committed as me to making India a place they want to live in. This change of heart and sudden absence of the need to leave a.s.a.p came as a surprise to me but is encouraging and hopefully will be an inspiration to others. It’s a very comforting thought that I wont be the only one fighting this battle, I never said it was going to be an easy one!

It’s all very well for people to point fingers and blame each other and usually the government for everything that’s wrong with the country, but they make it sound like we have our own Wizard of Oz sitting in a booth somewhere flicking switches to make things happen. Well guess what, we don’t (!), and it’s as much up to the average Tom, Dick and Harry, or Raju, Rani and Rakesh in our case to ‘be the change you want to see in the world’ as Gandhiji said and personally, I think sometimes all it takes is to be true to yourself and be brave enough to be an individual who cares...

The first morning...

2008-02-27T19:02:00.001+05:30

I awoke from my exhausted collapse, that which was nothing like sleep. The lump that was my body took up no more that a quarter of the bed, the side of my face still moist from the damp pillow it still lay on. How I moved across the room, unable to stand, barely to crawl, I am unsure. My head of lead denied me balance of any kind, stooping forward dangerously…

My mind drifted in and out of consciousness on the floor where I had stopped. Time took its own course, one that took no notice of my sorry state. Once again I drifted away only to find myself stumbling out of a cold shower hours later and dressing myself. How I got there I do not know, I remember feeling dirty inside and too clearly the fear of the growing pile of my things on the new wooden floor as they left where they had been…

Walking along the winding pathways, endless and recurrent, one step at a time, one breath at a time, my fathers voice continued to give me the will to move as it had done earlier that day…

As I sit from pain my insides do not relax, this pain I realize does not stem from my muscles. It radiates from somewhere beneath, through my lungs, nose and throat until I am coughing and gasping for breath. The choking is from a tight grip closing around my neck. The hand is of my own making, a creation of my veiled thoughts. I attempt to find the source of this pain and hope that it is not from the inside but from the ground that it makes its way into me…

All this while I have been watching myself struggle. I have left that body but can feel what it feels. But the empty shell is not only missing the part of me that is floating above its head, for I feel empty too. Sick and unable to re-enter that sad self again, I am unable to be the person beneath me. The person I am supposed to be. It seems my mind and heart has for once chosen the same path. One that is so far in the opposite direction from where I am headed that it has separated itself, only to realize I am now in two, yet stuck in the same place…

I float right in front of my body, for the first time daring to look at myself from anywhere but above. I see there is a hole in my centre from where my soul is leaving my body. My soul is leaving me in search of her. Leaving me, for her.

Words of love...

2008-02-16T00:00:00.002+05:30

Listening to love songs
as i sing along
in my head, she tells me
stories of broken hearts,
lives, desecrated lands
she reads from pages
inside her
lyrics of rebellion
we can share
no words of love
she speaks
though she sings
no words of love
written, given
no words of love
inspired to create
and write, give
i hit repeat as it ends
and she goes on
no words of love...

Krishna nee begane...

2008-01-25T17:47:00.000+05:30

There is something about Krishna that warms my insides. Something that has entered my body and is resting in my mind. Something from the words i was told as a child and am told even today. The love in her eyes when she talks of him in her childhood and how her lips mouth his name as tears stream from her eyes in pain and even in gratitude. Her lover and life. Krishna the playful child. The handsome blue god.

But krishna was a player, a trickster, more than only in a playful childish way. He broke hearts as gods and men do. He was a liar and chose sides, fought wars that weren't his to fight. Yet as i think of him knowing all this, knowing in my head he was not the flawless and just creature he is made out to be... a part of me wants to close my eyes and sing...

'Krishna nee begane, baaro...'

Life and loss

2008-01-17T20:59:00.001+05:30

Today i found out that a good friend of mine lost someone really dear to him... it was sudden and no one could have known it was coming... but just like that, it happened... and nothing could stop it...

What im about to write is just a reminder to myself and everyone who stumbles upon this here about some things we tend to forget... we all know life and death i something we cant fully comprehend, death especially... and thats why it is important to remember and do certain things... like who you are... who you want to be, and to be that person no matter what the odds... do the things you really want to do... do things that make you happy... and even if they dont make others happy... sometimes you need to do them anyway... put yourself and your needs first... and know that that doesn't mean being selfish and ignoring others needs... stop taking the world for granted... stop taking the people around you for granted... say what you want to say, what you really mean... dont hide... dont keep your ideas and opinions hidden inside you... dont be afraid of the world... as scary as it is... tell everyone you hate that you hate them and why.... especially the ones that have hurt you and used you... if strength falters and it still hurts inside, then tell them that too and let them know you aren't afraid of admitting it... be proud of who and what you are and dont blame it all on yourself, it might really be their fault after all, just like your friends keep telling you ... believe that a lot of what happens is just chance... and bad (or good) timing! And the two most important things... be with people who make you smile... with people you truly love... dont let anyone tell you who that can be... if being the only human and having 10 dogs makes you happy... then live like that... Dont listen to people who tell you what the right thing to do is.... know that there is no one right thing... fall in love... not once but over and over again... and when you are in love... let the feeling run through every inch of your body and dont waste a single minute of it... tell that person and all those you love and who love you how much they mean to you.... remind them every day.... dont think it will get tedious or repetitive... it wont... making someone feel loved is as important as feeling it yourself... and when you tell someone you love them... make sure you really mean it!

Im not saying life is short ... it may be... it may not... but lets just not forget that everyone isn't as privileged as us and not everyone is given the opportunity to be happy... so lets try and make the most of it...

2007-11-26T15:42:00.000+05:30

(years of being the clown and the agony aunt for all my friends has put me in the place i am today, which is the following!)

So many of my friends who are supposed to be my 'closest' ones and all that jazz are unhappy with me right now... and here is the bloody thing! i am tired of negativity, tired of everyone moaning and groaning about how bad their lives are and how everyone is mean to them and how no body cares... well guess what... i dont give a damn anymore... i am tired of everyone wallowing in self pity... ur boy dumped you?! someone cheated on you? NEWS FLASH! your not the only one and crying about it forever OR feeling guilty will not help.... trust me this time will ya!

i refuse to make people feel good about themselves anymore... u got a problem, learn to solve it on ur own... ur not always gonna have someone to help you... surely not me! Nope! No more! Be self sufficient, its an essential survival skill or did u never notice...?!

Heres another thing, your not the only ones with issues... and just cause i dont go around announcing whats making my life hell doesn't mean my life is one big chunk of paradise! I assure you, though u might think ur problems are gigantic and worse than everyone else's... your probably better off than most of our populations... so we should be ashamed of ourselves for being such whiny little brats!

what im getting at here is very simple... so lets all take a deep breath and say it together... GET OVER IT!!!!

write

2007-11-04T19:42:00.000+05:30

i have nothing to write about
for i am not in pain
well, not enough to want to write about!

i have nothing to write about
im not feeling overjoyed
merely happy just doesnt work the same

i have nothing to write about
so im writing about writing
and damn, this is the lamest write on earth!

a bad ending

2007-09-25T00:20:00.000+05:30

Today i was sure nothing could make me feel bad or upset me... i was in such a fucking good mood! Why? because i found out from school that i did in fact make the mark that the IB world sets for us students to decide if we are worthy of the diploma certificate and that they were the ones who had made a mistake in checking my papers, not me!

So while floating in this happy state... or bubble if you will... i was hoping at least the day would pass me by without the inclusion of any sharp objects, so to speak! but i had no such luck... come nightfall and the aftermath India winning the 20/20 world cup thingy (which by the way, i admit was fun and credit to Pak, they played brilliantly)... drunkenness and men.... two things i dislike... especially put together... and well, some other things and details that i rather not mention for the sake of those i love... and for the rest too i suppose... but point being with a 8min episode i had to go through, my entire night was ruined... and the part that makes me angry is... i dont fucking deserve it!! Casue all i did was try and help someone who asked for it... but i guess thats just what u get! right?

the lover's back....

2007-09-15T17:43:00.002+05:30

After a long time im feeling sparks of happiness inside me... like, real happiness... not the kind that just sits at the corner of your mind and reminds you its there when you're feeling sorry for yourself and when you're about to give up... This is the kind that fills you up... every inch of you... and that little corner is now for everything else... all the things that bring me down and make me want to run away... things i know i dont deserve to feel or go through (and its great to know in my heart that i dont deserve it).... this all happened when there was an exit of a certain overpowering shadow from my life... no, i wont give names...! lol.... anyway, i can breathe now that its gone... gone far away... far enough for its presence and darkness not to reach me! but for all the new people who its going to around now.... poor them!!!!

so, i feel like a new me... or maybe like the me i once used to be and missed so much! its nice... the angers all gone people.... now its only love love love.... just like it used to be!! :-D

2007-09-15T17:37:00.000+05:30

i feel like a complete ass casue i cant seem to upload the bloody film anywhere!! but anyway, if anyone wants to see it i have a cd so.... yeah!

Tapping into the unknown

2007-08-26T22:47:00.000+05:30

Sooooo.... mother darling.... or more appropriately, my boss/director has given us a new exploration project to do.... we'v been put in groups of 5 (there are 5 groups in all) consisting of 1 camera-man, 1 editor, 1 dancer, 1 musician and 1 director/writer each.... the task that has been given to us is that every group must decide on a poem each... it can be in any language and any form... and using this poem we were to make a small movie or short film, if you will! We are allowed to do anything we want as long as the video is between 1 and 5 mins and it was a must to use the poem as a major part of the film... and we have 5 days (starting yesterdya) to submit the final copy!!

Anyway, from about 4 poems (2 english ones, 1 guj and 1 hindi) we managed to select the one we liked the most this morning.... and its something written by me... so this is it...

'She writes on loose sheets of paper
floating about the room
she picks up her pen every so often
at a loss of words drives it through, tearing it
she writes on everything she finds
her slowly wearing jeans
invisibly on beautifully curved backs
on equally beautiful minds
women's of course, for men have neither

(But the trees don't have wounds)'

Will try and keep updating what is happening and how we are progressing, but if not will upload the end product once its done... :-)

Skulls Confirm We Are All From Africa

2007-07-27T14:59:00.000+05:30

An analysis of thousands of skulls shows modern humans originated from a single point in Africa and finally lays to rest the idea of multiple origins, British scientists said on Wednesday.

Most researchers agree that mankind spread out of Africa starting about 50,000 years ago, quickly establishing Stone Age cultures throughout Europe, Asia and Australia.

But a minority have argued, using skull data, that divergent populations evolved independently in different areas.

The genetic evidence has always strongly supported the single origin theory, and now results from a study of more than 6,000 skulls held around the world in academic collections supports this case.

"We have combined our genetic data with new measurements of a large sample of skulls to show definitively that modern humans originated from a single area in Sub-Saharan Africa," said Andrea Manica of the University of Cambridge's Department of Zoology.

Manica and colleagues wrote in the journal Nature that variations in skull size and shape decreased the further a skull was away from Africa, just like variations in DNA.

The decrease reflects the fact that, while the original African population was stable and varied, only a small number of people embarked on each stage of the multi-step migration out of Africa. This effectively created a series of "bottlenecks", which reduced diversity.

The highest level of variation in skull types was seen in southeastern Africa, the generally accepted cradle of mankind.

The Cambridge work also suggests in-breeding with other early humans, such as Neanderthals, either did not happen or was insignificant. That is in contrast to recent suggestions that such hybrids may have been fairly common.

"We're not saying there was never a single mating between a homo sapiens and a Neanderthal. But I can say, very confidently, that whatever the product of that mating was, it didn't breed back into the population," Manica told Reuters.

Chris Stringer, a palaeoanthropologist at the Natural History Museum in London, said the new research was important for indicating that modern human diversity was derived entirely from Africa rather than coming from inter-mixing elsewhere.

Changing (Inner) Colours..

2007-07-17T23:29:00.000+05:30

When trying to look sane i leave my glasses on
The chocolate boy version comes with coat and hat
The wild child brings along her inner amazon
While the charmer pulls it off as sleek as a cat

The laid back look asks for my colored hair
The party animal dresses gorgeously
When i need to be sexy, i lay a little more bare
But of course my changes come endlessly.

Reflections (an old one)

2007-06-19T17:30:00.000+05:30

Even the moon cannot resist
But to reflect what is in your eyes
So that I
Lonely on my windows edge
May watch him
Showing me what i know so well
Miss so terribly

But do you see me there
Unwillingly reflected
In all my weakness
The bulls-eye in perfect view

These eyes betray too much.

....!

2007-06-18T00:06:00.000+05:30

When did beauty become a dagger
digging into my stone heart
was it meant to draw blood
for im slowly running dry.
Jeweled knife engrave a name
that of your mistress
for it is as beautiful as she
let me feel the pain beauty gives.

Blah...

2007-06-17T23:46:00.000+05:30

there are two sides of me... and two sides of those two... and that goes on... i try and not pay attention to the ones too far down the line!! he he... its too hard to keep track of wants and needs otherwise...!!!

lately iv been having this strange argument... or more like discussion/debate with myself... i cant sya really what it is.. i wouldnt be able to explain... its about something that can in reality only be decided over time... i have to wait a bit and i will know automatically... but of course this restless me will think about it over and over again hoping i can find a way to prepare myself before then... make the whole thing smoother and pre-planned in my head! something i have a habit of doing... so everything can be just right... me in the perfect light.... and you of course... already there...! This is all about perception and reality... neither of which can really be defined unfortunately...

i guess il just have to wait and see... maybe its my turn to improvise!! :-D

Entries!

2007-05-29T23:56:00.000+05:30

Your making me watch the door closely
even when im facing the other way
my eyes and ears are alert
pricking up at any sign of movement
heart sinking as someone else walks through
I miss your abrupt and memorable entries
your unexpected and graceful appearances
You use to make them so often
so perfectly timed and unpredictable
so pleasing.

Sniffing rain!!!!!

2007-05-29T16:44:00.000+05:30

It smells like distant rain... must be the result of a downpour somewhere. Its dark as evening and its not even time for tea yet. But this whether is welcomed with open arms... by me that is. And maybe a couple of others, sitting in their offices or balconies bored with the morose world around them. All of us are just there... letting the air that smells so good encompass us for those five minutes and we close our eyes and imagine its all better. Everybody is trying to get away from something. Everybody wants something else... and here is that escape. For me of course its mainly only the rain that i want. Il hide in its veil... from whatever... and just enjoy the feeling of an enourmous force that is not ruled by petty human nature like everything else is...

Of course there is no real waiting for such a thing... for though its happening is inevitable... its timing is completely unknown. So much so that in all reality, it is not expected for at least another two months. But here i am sniffing away at the overheated ground that is ready and calling for it and the sky which is returning its call.... in some way or another!

But hey, i havnt finished writing and the suns already fought its way through a couple of determined clouds!! he he... hmm... the Ahmedabad sun... always prevailing!! Hmmm.... this wait for monsoon is always sooooo bloody long!

Half song

2007-05-20T12:47:00.000+05:30

Nobody deserves to be treated this way,
Not even me with my sins circling my head
Sins appointed by this asinine society of ours
And the christian community too
(though i am not a part of them).
So fuck off, now that your done fucking me
It was too good to resist at the time
And it just turned out well for you
But you loved it too, i heard it in your breathing
Now its cold cause you left me outside
You and your warmth walked the opposite direction
Leaving me to stagger into darkness for shelter

This is a half song, incomplete as a reflection of me
as a reflection of your sensitivity and cold heart...

Writer...

2007-05-16T02:43:00.000+05:30

She writes on loose sheets of paper
floating about the room
she picks up her pen every so often
at a loss of words drives it through, tearing it
she writes on everything she finds
her slowly wearing jeans
invisibly on beautifully curved backs
on equally beautiful minds
women's of course, for men have neither

(But the trees don't have wounds)

'Melting Clocks' or 'The Persistance of Memory' by Salvador Dali

2007-05-12T22:01:00.000+05:30

i feel what these clocks are saying... i feel what the painter is feeling... i feel the essence of it at the least... and then of course come my own interpretations... that is after all what art is for... understanding a meaning so deep that no matter who you are you can find something to relate to in your own life... give it a meaning that makes your heart stir...

Here is what it means to me... or reminds me of.... the ants feasting on the shut clock... all those people who insist on feeding their pride and glory on your past mistakes... your past in general... who flaunt what you did and what they didnt... all those little stupid things that could so easily be put behind you... and even away from the ants... maybe in more recent times.. there is still that one fly... picking on you... buzzing... unstoppable... the noise... just going round and round your ears making you more and more uncomfortable... and it knows you cant react and squash it the way you really want to!!! it makes you hold all that anger in until you just burst.... the lack of importance it seems to give itself.... how our lovers leave us so easily... giving our past exactly that little importance.... the melting of the time.. ur history... the fluidity of it... the heat that made it that way... the boiling temperatures that did it... leaving only you... in that state... half spilt over the side of an edge... hanging off a dead tree... the state of desolation... life of those memories... and life of now... something that continues... unchangable emptiness.... hmmm.... thats what my life feels like... melting clocks....

The Swaminathan Women

2007-05-10T23:35:00.000+05:30

Its my grandmom's b'day tomorrow and long story short... a lot of her side of the family have flown down to A'bad for it.... here are some people i have never met in my entire life... or at least not since i was two... of the 10 or so people most are women... women who are strong... women with mothers and children... women who love to laugh and love.... women who live life the way they want to without a man to lead them.... women with daughters... crazy women .... Swaminathan women!!!

I dont know these women but i love them... they are amazing... what strength and courage... this is my family... my roots... and how simple yet important it is to feel like you belong... and i felt it... today... one of those rare times when i think i really do belong... these are people i want to be.. want to learn from... i dont know how to put my feelings into words... but suddenly i feel less liek a freak... or at least... less like a freak alone... heh... i know whereever i am, they are behind me... around me.... inside me... there are fireworks that have set themselves off inside me... my blood is the same as theirs... i have a family that is like me.... me... me who is so different.... iv found a part of me... and it feels so good to be part of something.... to be part of something while still being your true self

beautifully haunting memories...

2007-05-10T01:46:00.000+05:30

This world was never meant for anyone as beautiful as the both of you.... god i miss them.... my own little girls....

The fickel summer wind...

2007-05-10T00:01:00.000+05:30

'The summer wind, came blowin in - from across the sea
It lingered there, so warm and fair - to walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and strolled on golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind

Like painted kites, those days and nights - went flyin by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind

The autumn wind, and the winter wind - have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind'

if only it were that beautiful.... but.... but.... but....!!

Women are fickle... yes, they are.... really.... the ones around me especially.... and it makes me wonder if its just them... or us as a species... the men were always like that... so it comes as no surprise... but the women? It makes me almost not want to be one... or does it? scary thought that is... because i love being a woman... but not someone fickel... and what option do i have anyway? Be a man?!?!?!? no way!! god! I guess there is no good in this thought... its like a dog running after its own tail.... and for all the feminist blood in me... this one time i cant deny it... because they these women are a wall of water before me... and even when i can swim they will drown me... and the clarity and purness everyone can see, shows me only the truth... makes it easier to see the reality... so when they return to the idiot that i am... i already know!!

Wait... if none of that made any sense to you now.... just wait... they'l get you too... not once.... over and over and over again... and no it doesnt matter if your a man or a woman... becasue human beings were made this way, both the sexes... and we are the lowest and most detestable of the worlds creations...

Zombie me....

2007-05-08T20:38:00.000+05:30

After no sleep for over 3 days... it feels (though untrue) that i have no mind body coordination at all... you know that experiment game thing they make you do where if you hold one part of your body completely still for a while and you end up feeling like its not there... yeah well... this is sorta like that too... and this rambling state comes with... my eyes cant exactly see what im typing... im hoping the words im saying in my head are the ones my fingers are typing... but u never know right!!

strangely, with all this tiredness the last thing i want to do is sleep.... maybe its how when ur too tired u cant sleep... but its also this feeling that i wanna be outside house... and not sitting still... and though my math exam was a disaster today... IT is the reason iv been awake and am feeling so pooped now.... and its over.....!!! NO MORE MATH!!!! lol... i feel like i should be celebrating.... if only A'bad had a good pub/disco.... booze and dance (and some pretty girls if possible... ahem ahem!!).... aaaaaaahhhh!!!

Of course, all these ideas are what i want to do according to my mind.. if my body had the energy it would kick my minds butt for even thinking of moving................... wow! talk about a weird sentance!!!

Ready, Get Set, Love....

2007-05-08T20:17:00.000+05:30

I want to step out of this skin of mine
Leave all the memories behind
Live each day without the knowledge of my past
I want you to do the same
I want you to look at me and fall in love again
Without the care of it consequence
I want to go back to the start

Grrr...

2007-04-23T21:03:00.001+05:30

i would be a dangerous person if i did in fact have a gun,
for these fingers pointed at my head can only do so much.
All my imaginary fiery destruction they watch me enact,
it would be much scarier if i was given a chance to make it real.
The violent shivering when my muscles flex in secret at thoughts,
they would do so much damage if they were let loose.

My eyes scare them when they come close enough to look,
they dare to come close only after I have stopped changing colour.
The scars on my own arms subside much faster than expected
and to their advantage they don't notice blood till its dry and healed.
My smoking body is eventually shown fake calming affection,
once its evident i wont burn their elegant fingers or even char them...

,,,

Awoken Me

2007-03-09T05:49:00.000+05:30

Its been a while,
but i was awake today
when the sun and moon were out
barely getting a chance to greet each other.
The sky kept changing to lighter
from one colour to the next
every shade and hue one could think of.
its been too long since i was awake
before the birds woke
or the trees shook off their drowse.
And the world turns lighter still
till i need no more light from the inside
everything reflecting the slightest glow.
i know im the only one awake
its been a while
and in this second its only me
me and the unadulterated reality.

A taste of the lonely life...

2006-10-23T23:47:00.000+05:30

It feels like I’m getting a taste of what it would be like living alone… or the first few months of living with new roommates in a new house…. Something to that extent… and I don’t like it!

Ha, I suppose I knew that already. I’m just not the type… but maybe it wouldn’t be this hard. Here there is a hierarchy already in place and as you enter you fall into place under everything already set. No matter who you are or how well you are intentionally treated. The placement in such cases is set and registered by emotion and feelings such as comfort, communication with fellow live-ins and that kind of thing.

So you begin realising how this situation is playing out and that there is not much you can do about it because of the kind of person you are… whatever that might be, and first the shadows start to settle over your head. Iv been there already, I suppose that being done and over with and me moving on is what allows me to write. With the tears of loneliness and being tired of itching when caught feeling out of place (which seems to be always) having ceased to rest for a while… you end up thinking about none other than those who DON’T make you feel that way. Suddenly the importance of these people and the small silly things they do to make you feel at home and part of them… the continuous conscious effort in the early stages, wells your heart and eyes up all over again. This time maybe in a nostalgic good way… the bittersweet realisation… bitter only because you have probably taken them and their ways for granted so terribly that you want to drown yourself now! And if you haven’t, well… good on you!

When the giggling and the loud voices from the opposite room don’t stop… you’ve understood that you’re on your own. The ones who don’t know you too well are probably thinking you’re a loner or some sort of warped thinker who doesn’t know or like to socialise (which might well be to your advantage at this point in time) and the ones who do… well, they obviously don’t know you as well as you thought and don’t really care. The little effort (if you can even call it that) that is put in from their side, in their eyes is like sacrificing their heads to save yours! Trust me, they think way too much of themselves and ‘all the things they give’ for us. One could say what they give us is a road leading to the sea not knowing (I hope! For their own sakes…) that one single drop of rain would be sweeter and more appreciated. And so you learn to pass the time on your own, and smile to make others not bother anymore with you when necessary. The music that you don’t want to listen to playing through the house is only going to drown when you finally put on those headphones and blare whatever it is that makes you happy from your saviour…. Your florescent pink covered ipod!!

Before you know it you are writing at the speed of light… or at least at the speed your computer will allow you and the feet and head are moving with a beat only known to you. The kind of solitude that you are proud of having all to yourself. Who said being alone had to be a bad thing. Instead of feeling excluded from whatever it is the world is doing, know that your little world is more fun then theirs ever will be and know that they are not invited! Smile and let the music move your body… you know it wants to. Let the thoughts race and the fingers on your keyboard come along for the ride…. And guess what… there is no more race you have to win… only feel the wind against your face…