Photographs, French et la vie

Saturday nite - 21.30 pm

Photographs and my obession with them. Some months back I had written a post about seeing photographs everywhere. I have become seriously obsessed ever since I got in my possession a S-700 Cybershot – my own digital camera. People accuse (perhaps a strong word) me of being trigger happy and keep telling me off about my camera obsession. I thought about the reasons why and perhaps my justification for my trigger happy self. I love taking snaps- I am an amateur in every sense of the word- (personal confession time) upto the point where A pointed out to me that I only needed to half press the trigger point in order to avoid blurring. (Shrug of shoulders) I am an ignoramus – wot else is there to say? :)

I will be departing for foreign shores soon. Another 6 months and I will be off. Memories can be found in your head and I reckon in digital cameras too! :) More than things, trees, skies (which acc to my Mom is my fave subject) I want ppl to be there in the snaps I take. People who mean a lot to me and have been a part of my life. I know this time/phase will never be repeated again. Consider it so – friends and family frozen in that moment forever.

Tangent(s) starts - I am desperate to speak in French. All the time I want to lose myself in the language, roll my r's, not pronounce what I can't and not supposed to. Listen to Madeleine Peyroux and know the words of what might come to be my wedding song :) I love French and want to reconnect with it. Know the words of songs, get my accent and tenses right (very importante en la Française) Mahmah has encouraged me a lot and I told her I dream of the day when I can do a conversation in French with her without missing a beat.C'est importante parler en la Française toujours parceque j'aime la langue la Française. (Slight bow I can allow myself perhaps, non?)

At S's partee S spoke about me. It was weird to hear about myself. You behave, you act and perhaps you think you are being yourself. You are not someone else. I sound crazy don' I? But I think most times we are all playing parts – mother, sister, daughter, friend, confidante, lover, music lover, dancer....I can continue but you are getting the point. Sometimes, I overplay my part, I can accuse myself of underacting too. All the parts come together to make me (now I reiterate a friend's favourite lines I think) and they fight against each other too.

Emotions don't get left out. I am at the mercy of my emotions. I recognise that part of myself and live with it everyday. I learn and at the end of the day try to make peace with myself. This I do with friends..my family I suspect knows so little about me sometimes, I am a stranger here who lodges, eats and leaves for work..perhaps a slight exaggeration I can allow myself?

I am possessive and I care too much. I know this part of me too. It will always be my downfall. Always. But making peace happens because I don't live on that deserted island. I live with people who care for me, lift me from where I am broken n weary and bring me back to a place where I allow myself to smile again. Those green meadows are there, waiting for me to walk on, the soles of my feet want to feel the crispyness of the grass blades under them. Crunch crunch..yellow flowers by the wayside..the sun shines on me and le ciel est bleu..so blue the eyes hurt. I am there and yet nowhere..I float along and there will be salvation for me. I know it as much as I know I am meant to make my mark on this world. People are going to remember me with joy, sadness, love and fuck I sound like I am going to die, aren't I? BC, saala that Sacred Games book did leave a mark on me! :)

So blame this post on an awesome book called Sacred Games. Its Vikram Chandra's magnum opus. Took him seven years to write and man, its phatte...good read and worth every pie I paid for it. Je departe pour a partee where I will make merry and drink and eat good food. Excusez moi, s'il vous plaît...

The return of Asok

R.I.P

ICL - Chennai SuperStars Ad

In the stillness of the night

The slight breeze ruffles the flower petal

It moves without momentum

Hesitantly

I have been walking for aeons

Without finding myself

Losing myself in the confines of meaningless sex

Lie down on the soft sand

Wait for a lover to pass me by

Hold hands indulge in soft laughter

Remember bygones time

Nostalgia is a hard mistress

She makes me ache, weep and moan

The promise of what will become another memory

Beckons me into another pair of arms

My weekend

After a very long time I am writing about my weekend. I had a very nice one - did different things and each gave me pleasure of a different sort.

Friday nite I went for an awesome concert. Smritiyaan organised at Shanmukhananda Hall.

Hariprasad Chaurasia and Vijay Ghate

The Pohankar and Ranjit Barot ensemble tht sucked!

Sitara Devi who at the age of 92 rocked ass!

We had amazing Udipi food and kapi this whole day..I loved eet...

Saturday I had to go to Xaviers and found myself overcome with emotion being there .

First Quad with the Basketball Court

Returned home and watched 'Thank you for Smoking'. Good flick. You root for the protagonist even though logically you know he is an asshole who is 'paying his mortgage'. His kid adores him n vice-versa n that actually to me made the flick good.

Saturday nite got drunk with Dee. Whisky sours rock at CL man. We walked for a bit and she said it perfectly, ' Why do I feel like I am floating?' Hahhhaahaha..Niceness that was.

Sunday morning dawned with a fite first thing in the morng re brekkie. My sister got a much larger portion than me and I fought. I laffed at myself at this one - a 26 yr old fighting with her Pop coz he gave the younger sibling more brekkie. :D

I went for dance class on Sunday evening and it rocked..Waheeeeeeeeeeeeee...I love dancing and I have decided am gng to do as much as possible :) 15 more classes of Intermediate to go so I quite look fwd to it.

Here's to more weekends like this. Chin chin ....

Nandigram

The rivers flowed red with blood
Voices of children lost forever in the mists of time

For more the Great Bong here

I walk the empty beaches

The moon shines bright on me

She fills me with her empty splendour

She talks to me of wistful dreams

She makes me smile and yearn

Desire races through my pulses

I want to walk naked through fields of gold

Feel the wheat brush against my skin

Coarse and smooth

It makes me sway

Dance to the music of my own senses

Letting the moonlight rush through every pore of my skin

Goa

Om Shanti Om

GO SEE!

Diwali

The art of vadam making

Diwali day..mahmah made vadams for us. For the uninitiated, vadams r rice papad like thingies..this shall be further elaborated with this ...My mom thought I was insane of course but dude...she makes it like once a year and especially wonly when sister and me sit on her head! :D

So photo essay begins:

Carnival of Rust

I want to be a character in a book

Walk through green valleys and carpets of red n yellow flowers

I want to be able to fly without wings

Yet I am earthbound as can be

I want to lead an electric life

Flashing blue n violet and every sign of the neon there is

I want to arch like a red arrow against the blue sky

Yet am strung back by ties

Creep into the red hazy sun

Walk into the light

Yet shadows play around me

In the death throes of the evening

I gather my courage n

Step out with the chinks in my armour visible

Waiting to be enveloped into loving arms

Bat bombs!!

Tasty has gone into hibernation :( I miss him n his silly acrobatics :D Anyways, I went to Wikipedia to get more info on this and I found this brilliant piece of information abt bat bombs!! I mean the US Army seriously considered using bat bombs against Japan :) I mean total wtf! :D U can read more here

Sunday, glorious Sunday

Sunday 17:12 pm

A friend wanted me to go the temple for her. I haven't been inside a temple in the last 2 years almost. I am not a temple person and manage to have faith in God without going to a temple. :) Sometimes I don't believe he exists because of all the inhumane things that happen in the world. But then I realise its man - so end of story. Anyways that is for another post (or not!) I go to the temple once a year when it is Diwali and last year on account of my uncle passing away we didn't go to the temple and of course there was no Diwali.

Visiting a temple is fraught with things one must do and one must not do. Like for women - not having their periods is a big thing. One must enter clean etc.. Is a woman polluted (which is the popular opinion) because of her periods? I don't like it one bit. I have fought with my folks previously on this issue. This is something physical that happens to a woman once a month and she is called 'unclean'!! Goddamn ridiculous in my opinion. What about men who come into the temple who in their 'other' lives gamble, drink, physically abuse and whore? But of course one doesn't know about that rt....

Anyways, this post is not intended as a diatribe. So shall come back to point – I enjoyed the experience of visiting the temple. I dressed up and walked some 200 odd steps to enter the inner sanctum. It was effort and I liked doing it. I valued it more because I reckon I haven't been inside His house for a long time. It was quiet (unlike Diwali which is horrid coz of the crowds) I prayed the same thing – for friend(s) and a lil bit for me (I don't normally but well this is important to me and its worth asking Him fr it)

When I started off I rang the temple bell softly and by the time I left it had made a very big clang :) I was very privileged to watch something at the temple. There is a Vinayaka idol on the grounds of the temple before one acends the big steps. We had finished and well the vadiyar (priest) was about to do the daily ablutions on the idol. So sistah n me waited n watched and it was amazing.

God bathes – yes ladies n gentlemen – this is a fact :) He bathes in milk, water n milk again (Lucky bugger or wot) The vadiyar did a very nice job and he must have thought we were mad, standing around watching him doing his deed of the day. This God was locked up in his house. The lock is opened so that the ritual(s) can be performed. He was naked before us, we watched him get a bath, being dressed up and then chandan is applied on his forehead and he is done. Ready to face the day under lock n key. Think there is irony hidden here but it escapes my mind at the minute. :)

I came back home, made eggs (after ages again) and made it my way instead of Dad's traditional omlette that we eat every Sunday. I also cooked lunch for Mom, me n sis – made pasta which came out nice (of course!) It felt like a very nice day and I hope it continues like that :)

Update: Sunday nite 9.00 pm - I didn't study the whole day and started off at 7 pm (bad n good eet ees!) Random relatives came over and they talked abt my cooking skills (not appreciated!) Then did fite with Amma (not nice)- we did cry and then hugged n kissed n made up. Ammas r so nice that way :) Now in another 20-30 mins off to Dee's house for khana :D

Update: Sunday nite 11.00 pm – Guava stew – fab ass dessert made by Dee's mom was the perfect end to my Sunday :)

The Flight of the White Pigeon

Alone amongst the multitudes

Her colour a beacon

Attracting more than the human eye

The others looked at her with disdain and contempt

Their commonality their unity

She raged against them

But they stood indifferent

Until she took flight....

Her flight into the skies was a thing of beauty

Her wings moving in tandem

Striking a beat against the currents

Even the wind bowed in defeat...

She soared high

A surprise because her kind hardly ever did

Achieving unassailable heights

Traumerei and Russian History

Read a brilliant article/post on Traumerai..its a lovely piece of music as well and my first Utube video :)

Stage set..lites..action

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts

Some snippets frm today's news

I was going to write about Facebook first but read this excellent article abt Myanmar so thought Myanmar was somehow newsworthy than some social networking site (I love Facebook - pls not to doubt it but somehow in the grander scheme of things ...) This writer went to Myanmar and has written about this time spent there. How apt also that Amy Winehouse sings 'Back to Black' at the same time. Read more here

Microsoft buys a 1.6% stake in Facebook for $240 mln. Facebook rules our life. Someone the other day called me a power user of Facebook and I would agree with tht assessment. Have remet hazaar friends frm Ncl times and I loveeeeeeeeeee Graffiti..wot the heck did I do before Facebook happened man?? Read more abt Google not winning this one here