Monday, February 25, 2013
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
thank god it's raining outside. at least some succor to my heartburn..
i seem to be sighing a lot more.. taking a lot more deep breaths.. i'm this close to shutting my phone off. i guess it's always the worst before it gets better. or so i choose to rationalize and fool myself.
imagine having to censor each word, each move, each action. difficult life ahead.
and all i want is a classic 500!
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
early morning chill.. rain drenched asphalt.. steel..
the stirrings of a city.. other stirrings as well.
of course, the inspiration yet doesn't follow.. but like an old man trying out some viagra for the first time and settling down to check the effects on him with a dose of free porn on the internet, i wait titillated.. maybe i'll be able to paint again. maybe i'll be able to write again. perhaps the words will flow just as the river erodes the island regularly and relentlessly. perhaps not.. why does it feel like i've done this before. a yes and a no. this has been the crux so far. so far being just the last couple of years.. can i read the old books again? will i fall in love with the pages like i did the last time.. just as i'm afraid to go back to an old boyfriend after a breakup, i'm scared to read a book that i love the second time.. what if? what if i don't enjoy it so much..
what if i'm just rehashing.. just like i found out that be 23 if you like jokes, you've probably heard them all.. at 30, you've written it all?? no more new thoughts?? what's wrong??
Thursday, January 21, 2010
it's been a while since i wrote anything, and now i realize that unless i feel very passionately, i don't have words.. think what you may wanna of that.. i realized that i'm very passionate about myself, what happens to me and whatever is mine, is of my utmost concern.. i just can't take it if what i perceive as wrong happens.. and i gotta get out of here, this little pond where each frog thinks he's the cock of the walk.. Nah, man.. you're just another toad. and where you sit is yet another toadstool..
i've had to do some things which i never thought i'd need to.. all this while, i was under the impression that merit counts.. sure i was never naive, i knew a little bit of networking and some right posturing also would go a long way.. yet, i never knew that sheer idiocy or stupidity or vindictiveness or vengefulness or laziness (i haven't been able to pinpoint the reason as yet) could hold sway in today's world.. but then all's well..
i still don't know what i'm made of.. i still don't know if Gurdieff was right.. in those 23 days, i've kicked, screamed, shouted, flexed my muscles, made noise enough number of times.. the days of despair i can count as 5 perhaps.. those days, i turned inwards completely.. didn't want anyone to know how strong i felt inside.. thing is that today, i still don't know what happened, how and why.. it's all a big mystery..
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A deeper thought if ever taken reveals that one never wanted to forget about him. All of the ignoring actually means that he was never in your mind. The teeming million poor people are never in our minds. In fact no one else ever is. I know for a fact.
How did we ever organize ourselves in this society this way? Who made the rules? I am embarrassed, but I’ll tell you. I ignore all those little boys and girls begging at every crossing in Delhi. I don’t look at them in the eye. I look through them. I act as if they’re invisible. I roll up the window. I rev the engine. I rush away as soon as the light turns green. I don’t want to give any money as I know that one coin will bring in twenty more outstretched palms. Or will it? I don’t know. I’ve run away every time. I’ve never checked it out.
Who put them there in the first place? Is that very naïve of me to ask? Should I just let that question be? Can I ever find answers to that question? Or will it be entirely clouded with concepts of economics, development strategy, political will, gross domestic product, manufacturing sector, insurgency etc etc etc ad nauseum.
The simple fact of life: “hungry stomach needs food” has today been confused and manipulated to such an extent that we have nations of obese people co-existing in the world along with malnourished nations all in the same world. But it doesn’t matter right: it’s not your country, it’s not your home, it’s not your problem.
Who is to blame? Or is it not about a blame game? The ancient Indians would have us believe it is karma. Some are destined for greatness, some are destined for poverty. Or is it that some work harder than the others? What is the role of equal opportunities? What if I am a closet literary genius of the Swahili language? I just never got the opportunity to blossom that talent, having been born in India. Or is it that I was never meant to?
Monday, June 01, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I'm in a dangerous mood... wanna do something crazy and spontaneous... i hate my existence where each moment is recorded and tagged and verified and corrected and placed in custody... He can't come, i can't go.. I yearn. Oopli tuplis..
Why do we work? So that we have ample time for leisure... i work and then work some more.. so does he... i wait, so does he.