I know I have been absconding for a while now. The truth is I didn't feel like writing and I must admit the title of this blog was written over a year back.
The Sanatan Dharma talks of primordial concepts. The Shunya (nothingness) is one of them. Sometimes you've had enough of life but life hasn't had enough of you. Sometimes you give up but life does not let you give up. It is strange when things keep coming back in the most unimagined places. You yell, scream and try all possible attics but it just follows you everywhere. And that is when the shunya begins. That one thing around which you seem revolve around, that one thing that you want to break away from and cannot....
What does it take to break free? Does talking to the blossoming trees of Spring help? Will screaming 'let me out' help? Can I beg to the secret 'Desert rose' to help me out?
Or should i just say.... Anant and let be?
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Tambi
He came over to this part of the office early at 9 in the morning. We were supposed to complete an assignment. He had come over to see how far we had reached with the assignment.
He pulls a chair and sits beside me.
I get this strong smell. A smell I have known since childhood. My dad used to use it too.
Its almost a mark of a Tambi -
The Mysore Sandal!
Typical.
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Tambi, for those of you who don't know, is a word commonly used for a Tamilian (someone who is from Tamil Nadu, India). But if for someone in Delhi, everyone who is from down south is a Tambi (I often use Tambi in this sense).
He pulls a chair and sits beside me.
I get this strong smell. A smell I have known since childhood. My dad used to use it too.
Its almost a mark of a Tambi -
The Mysore Sandal!
Typical.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tambi, for those of you who don't know, is a word commonly used for a Tamilian (someone who is from Tamil Nadu, India). But if for someone in Delhi, everyone who is from down south is a Tambi (I often use Tambi in this sense).
Mysore Sandal is a famous South Indian brand that sells products (soaps, talcum powder)that has the smell of sandal wood.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Morbid conversations
The heart's been worried lately.
What about her? the heart asked.
What abut her? asked the head.
Well... I have been thinking....
Oh, you think too much!Dont think...
Are you happy with 'her'....
What kind of a question is that?
What kind of an answer is that? Don't you think you have been living in illusion for too long? I know 'she' is a compromise. 'She' always was. How long do you intend to fool yourself.
But 'she' is reality. 'She' is truth now.
'But'...hmmm... interesting....
Besides she is crazy.
Yes. She is. And she is stupid, she is tempermental. She'll just let you know what she feels. She's a maverick and she's foolish. She is so impossible to love. And she is irritating.
She is true to her heart. She has a wicked sense of humor. She lives withoout a mask. She is simple and nice. It is impossible not to love her. And NO, she is not one bit irritating.
Really? I thought she was too ego centric.... too obnoxious...
Obnoxious... thats a strong word...
Alright, alright.... But she is a tom boy.
Yeah, she is... and she is endearing... But I can't...
I can't? You haven't even tried! She at least tried. You gave up long time back. And somewhere, both you and I know, she hasn't. Both of us know it, and dread it... she is waiting...
How do you know that?
Because I am you, ain't I?
Anyways, its not a point to discuss anymore.... I cannot do anything about it now. It is not her but 'her' now. So please don't bother me now... let me be...
But what about her?
Well, she's strong.... she'll learn...
You are pathetic...
No, I am practical.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Sour Mangoes
I know I have been absconding for sometime now. No reason in particular really, just didn't feel like pressing that publish button even if I wrote a bit. But my surroundings are in a constant state of vertigo and I am goaded to write - finally!
There is a battle on two fronts really here. And while one is more enjoyable, the other - pungent. While the former can be ignored and is often not, the latter cannot be ignored but often is. And that is India's plight. And the motley of characters pitching in their own areas in both the 'battlefields' is a scene no doubt. The first is the IPL or as the newspapers put it the NRIPL, and the second is India's general elections. And while the drama is enfolding on both the fronts, I pause to write.
The gamut of players on both the fronts are, permit me to say, larger than life and their prowess is yet to unfold. Yet, you see certain streaks. I do not claim to know much about cricket, but I can surely speak of politics. Sharad turns the renegade again, I very vividly remember the time he quit from the INC on the grounds of Sonia Gandhi's nationality (1999). Now he seeks alliance with another 'turncoat', and is almost in tow with the Left parties. BJP does not seem to know where it is heading, fumbling along nothing really. Advani seems to be busy throwing brick-bats at Manmohan Singh. But of the last things I ever expected, was to see someone as educated as Manmohan Singh to actually react to Advani's comments in the way he did. An affronted Manmohan ignores Advani in a public meeting - highly unchaste - so I think. And then again you have 'apla munnabhai', who is leaving no stone unturned in his debut as a politician. You can see him using all the communal cards very well. Thank God he wasn't allowed to contest the elections. And untill the elections are over a lot more will billow within the political folds. Wonder how many will do the democracy dance the Chiranjeevi style!
And while purple and orange caps do their rounds at the IPL, the political scene is complex. Pune went to polls today and I cast my vote. A number of rich affluent neighbours of mine haven't, alas. And in the DP road slums, votes were bought for Rs 300, my maid informed.
To the politicians, who change their colour at the fancy of their will and advantage, here is an extract from my favouriate all time story:
`Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'
`What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. `Explain yourself!'
`I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because I'm not myself, you see.'
`I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.
`I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'
`It isn't,' said the Caterpillar.
`Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; `but when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?'
'Not a bit' said the Caterpillar.
Somehow they do not understand!
This summer I hear the mangoes are very few - thanks to the cliamte change.
Those few in the market - are sour!
There is a battle on two fronts really here. And while one is more enjoyable, the other - pungent. While the former can be ignored and is often not, the latter cannot be ignored but often is. And that is India's plight. And the motley of characters pitching in their own areas in both the 'battlefields' is a scene no doubt. The first is the IPL or as the newspapers put it the NRIPL, and the second is India's general elections. And while the drama is enfolding on both the fronts, I pause to write.
The gamut of players on both the fronts are, permit me to say, larger than life and their prowess is yet to unfold. Yet, you see certain streaks. I do not claim to know much about cricket, but I can surely speak of politics. Sharad turns the renegade again, I very vividly remember the time he quit from the INC on the grounds of Sonia Gandhi's nationality (1999). Now he seeks alliance with another 'turncoat', and is almost in tow with the Left parties. BJP does not seem to know where it is heading, fumbling along nothing really. Advani seems to be busy throwing brick-bats at Manmohan Singh. But of the last things I ever expected, was to see someone as educated as Manmohan Singh to actually react to Advani's comments in the way he did. An affronted Manmohan ignores Advani in a public meeting - highly unchaste - so I think. And then again you have 'apla munnabhai', who is leaving no stone unturned in his debut as a politician. You can see him using all the communal cards very well. Thank God he wasn't allowed to contest the elections. And untill the elections are over a lot more will billow within the political folds. Wonder how many will do the democracy dance the Chiranjeevi style!
And while purple and orange caps do their rounds at the IPL, the political scene is complex. Pune went to polls today and I cast my vote. A number of rich affluent neighbours of mine haven't, alas. And in the DP road slums, votes were bought for Rs 300, my maid informed.
To the politicians, who change their colour at the fancy of their will and advantage, here is an extract from my favouriate all time story:
`Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'
`What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. `Explain yourself!'
`I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because I'm not myself, you see.'
`I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.
`I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'
`It isn't,' said the Caterpillar.
`Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; `but when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?'
'Not a bit' said the Caterpillar.
Somehow they do not understand!
This summer I hear the mangoes are very few - thanks to the cliamte change.
Those few in the market - are sour!
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