My city

When Mumbai was burning I was eating panipuris. Sounds suitably dramatic. Well, Mumbai wasn't burning but I kept my panipuri date and my stomach came out better out of this ordeal that Mumbai was supposedly going through. I am sick of this bullshit we are being made to face. Politicians and their goonda supporters hold my city to siege and the common man suffers. As always....his plight (as an aside, why is it always common man and not woman I wonder?) is that of suffering, mute..sometimes it takes the shape of a violent outburst aimed at innocent people who are not party to anything.

What is this outsider business I ask? I am as good as Maharashtrian manoos as any..sorry bai as any..(not the servant wala bai for the udiots who walked in late) My grandparents made their lives here and some idiot turns around and tells me that I am an outsider. Go take a flying fuck is what I would say.

Dee and me did conversation about this. RT walks out of the court dressed like an American yeppie, his lawyer is a North Indian and he talks about sending North Indians back to their land. I once did a very nice conversation with a Banarasi rickshaw wala who told me that since the past 25 years Bumbai was his home. Like me and possibly thousands and dare I say millions of people, Bumbai had opened her heart to him and given him a place to stay and kept his family fed, educated and happy and giving him a living. His daughter was in school. I told him at the end of our rickshaw ride that it was important that she continue her education. I don't know if my words will have an effect or not but I would like to hope that it would.

This man made his life an open book to me. He has land back in his gaon, but the land wasn't able to sustain him and his family which is why he chose to move to Bumbai and make his life. So then Bumbai became his home. How does he become an outsider? Has he not been contributing to the city's economy? Has he not ferried people around the city? Has he not seen the city's slow deterioration from an open minded place to something that can be manipulated n used by an ever pliable and rabble rousing media?

I squarely blame the media who is 24/7 in our faces. There are stories plenty in my country but they are not sensationalist enough. Not enough sansanni! I had argued this previously with another friend when that Prince fiasco happened. While I do agree that Prince was saved that day only because of the unrelenting media attention, there were definitely more important pressing issues than Prince happening in the country at that time. But Prince, Prince - 24/7. We got the point. It was the same yesterday, the same shots of RT walking out of the court. The media allowed itself to be manipulated a limp rag doll, causing people to panic. Why should we allow ourselves to be used like this? Why show fear- bow down to the the *idea*, mind you the idea that there are people out there ready to attack us for no fault of ours.

Who decides who is an outsider? Society, laws, dumb, attention and vote seeking politicians? I wonder. Where does the line get drawn that you are one of us or the alienated other?

Harley Davidson Museum

Harley Davidson Museum...wheeee...Once I go to Ummarica I go see it of course ...Read more here

Shame shame shame

The Kolkata Museum is embroiled in a scam. Antiques must surely have been siphoned off and hopefully this will not be swept under carpets. Read more here

Reading at Xaviers, originally uploaded by KittyKaht.

Books- I have been devouring them by the dozen and this I say without any exaggeration for the past two-three weeks. I finish one and I start the other...I can't stop and there is like a force inside me saying read, read, read...Amongst the books I read so far, Joanne Harris's Five Quarters of an Orange n Blackberry Wine stand out. Read this book by Muriel Maufroy – Rumi's Daughter. V v nice. Made me v philosophical for that one nite. I read tht one start to finish. Could not stop. U read the book and you stop to think- wot is the point. Feel like there should be more. Are we already living that 'more' or wot?

I watched Musafir today – the Big T recommended it as an optimized Hindi movie to me. The back of the DVD cover read – No Justification, Only Gratification. Umm...I am nt sure I was gratified. Guys would have been gratified with the hot babes – Koena highly sucky and doing some sudsy dance with Anil Kapoor leching at her. Then it is Sunju Baba's turn to lech at her. Mahesh Manjrekar was truly creepy and disgusting and he made my skin crawl. Sameera just should nt have bothered with the clothes. Totally pointless. Action – all rubbish. Highlight was Sunju Baba's lines. Bas..total jhakaas and value for money.

I have decided to do my South trip. I have some ideas abt dates. Lets see how it all goes. The road to good intentions is cobbled with stones from hell. (Poetic license I am allowed) :D

Sun kissed roads

Warm blue air

Scent of the bumble bee

Flowers strewn everywhere

The yellowed meadows

Trees lit with an incandescent light

The birds dancing with the currents

The blackberries ripe with their juice

The apple green of the new born leaf

The colour so rich it startles me

Colours everywhere..they surround us

Yet we don't see

We choose to to be indifferent

Living average Joe lives

Smell Feel Sense Touch Live

Should be the new mantra

Whispered n yelled with fervour

It would let us unfurl

Like a butterfly in the sun

The subversion of history

A friend sent me this email. I hate it absolutely when situations like these occur!

There has been a large demonstration at the Univ. of Delhi and at our dept against a text in the 2nd year, an essay on the many Ramayanas by the late AK Ramanujan. The protests continue.The main one was by the ABVP- the student wing of the BJP. One MP even claimed the writings were by one Dept. member who happens to be the PM's daughter. She is indeed in the Dept. but this is not an accurate representation of the way the course was drawn up and needless to add the essay in question was authored by a ( now deceased) scholar. We have issued a statement that has also been backed by the Univ. leadership.

NOTE PREPARED BY THE DEPARTMENTAL COUNCIL OF THE DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY, UNIVERSITY OF DELHI,

IN ITS MEETING OF 04/02/2008

1. A number of groups have organised protest and have raised objections to the inclusion of an essay by (late) A. K. Ramanujan, titled “Three Hundred Ramayanas: Five Examples and Three Thoughts on Translation”. The essay had been published in Vinay Dharwadker (ed.) The Collected Essays of A. K. Ramanujan, New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1999, pp. 131-60; [this was an expanded version of a piece that first appeared in Paula Richman (ed.) Many Ramayanas: The Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991]. The said essay is one of the readings for the Delhi University concurrent course on Ancient Indian Culture in the B. A. (Honours) programme, which has been offered in several Colleges from July 2006 onwards.

2. The sole purpose of this course is to create an awareness and understanding of the rich and diverse cultural heritage of ancient India among students, and to acquaint them with original sources. Apart from the reading mentioned in the letter, the course includes readings on Kalidasa’s poetry, Jataka stories, ancient Tamil poets and poetry, ancient iconography, and the modern history of ancient artifacts. The essay is part of a unit titled ‘The Ramayana and Mahabharata – stories, characters, versions.’ It is accompanied by an excerpt from Iravati Karve’s book, Yuganta: The end of an epoch. Supplementary readings include the Introduction of Robert P. Goldman’s The Ramayana of Valmiki: an epic of ancient India (the most recent and most authoritative English translation of the epic), which gives a detailed, scholarly introduction to the Valmiki Ramayana.

3. The late A. K. Ramanujan (recipient of several honours, including the Padmashri) was a widely acclaimed scholar with impeccable academic credentials. His expertise in a range of languages including Sanskrit, Tamil and Kannada was perhaps without parallel. His credentials as a scholar, writer, and teacher with extensive knowledge of ancient Indian literary traditions are incontestable. It is sad to see his name and work being subjected so such ill-informed controversy. In the article in question, he illustrates and analyses the great dynamism and variety in what he describes as ‘tellings’ of the story of Rama within India and across the world.

4. The concurrent course on Ancient Indian Culture and the readings for it went through the same procedure as all other courses in the University of Delhi pass before being adopted. The readings have not been devised or ‘compiled’ by any individual. Like all the other University courses, they are the product of a consultative process involving many members of the University community. The content and readings for this course were discussed extensively among Department members and College teachers, and were approved through the regular University procedures in statutory bodies, namely the Committee of Courses, Faculty of Social Sciences, Academic Council, and the Executive Council, which include teachers of all disciplines. The Academic Council is the highest statutory body on academic matters in the University.

5. We would like to emphasize that there is no published compilation of the course readings by Dr. Upinder Singh or any other member of the Department of History. However, it has come to our notice that there is a spiral-bound collection of photocopies of the individual articles and excerpts related to this course at certain photocopying shops. This set of photocopies has a covering page on which Dr. Upinder Singh’s name has been typed, without any authorization whatsoever, as a ‘compiler.’ It is this collection of photocopies that is being incorrectly described as a ‘book’ compiled by her. There is in fact no book.

6. When readings are prescribed in a course, it is not essential that the course-designers, teachers, or students should agree with or defend each and every word therein. In fact debate, dissent, and dialogue are important parts of the discipline of history. It may be pointed out that the terms that have apparently caused offence to certain individuals should in no way be construed as mischievous or slanderous. There is no question whatsoever of intending or attempting to denigrate or hurt the sentiments of any culture, religion, tradition, or community.

7. The aim of the course in question is to teach University students (who are, after all, young adults) to be able to analyze a variety of source material academically, analytically, and without embarrassment or denigration. That is the spirit in which the course was framed and that is the spirit in which we believe it is being taught.

To be or not to be

Weekends n more

I did loads of stuff this weekend :) Friday nite, went to dance class after 2 weeks and I died. 2 hr dance class and buddhi like me..mins total out of breath etc..At 9.20 pm I was begging instructor, please lets stop and go home. All the college kids come fresh and they r like 16 yrs old..total oldness I felt.

Sat afternoon I went to Strand and bought 4 books. Premise sounded damn interesting for all of them. Bought When the Women Come Out to Dance, A Wild Sheep Chase, Mr Phillips, Still Life of a Woodpecker. I didn't know it was a love story - the last book that is :) Dee wanted Egypt book so bought her the book I found which was not coffee table types..

Went to Chowpatty and had Sharmajee's pani puri made Big T style..tingle tingle went my tastebuds with the chilli :) Loved it although could not handle more than 2 of those things before I had meetha pani too. Went forward march to Mondy's from there and had a brilliant time there chugging shandy. Nice end to my evening with a bike ride back home.

Sunday afternoon lunch at S's was divine. Crab curry, ate crab for the first time in my life. Had to fite with my food to get to it but was assured that end result would be good so continued on valiantly. Yummy dessert followed- chocolate mousse and fruit salad in custard (Lip smacking ensued)

Went to NCPA to watch my first Western classical music concert. Loved it. :D Was a bootiful concert. F told us when we shd clap and when we should not. Violinist was splendid too, bloddy splendid I mite add :) Went to Bachelors after this and had the most awesome ice cream - chilli wala and then fresh strawberries and cream - total yumminess incarnate! Came back home and slept like a baby and back to Monday grind again.

The contrast becomes him

The Sartorialist

Girl child and education

Everyday in most parts of the globe, this story must be repeated with severe consequences. This story manages to give me hope that women can have a better future and escape the confines of tradition- especially a tradition that enslaves them.

Read more here

Funneeeee

The moon watches me with her gentle eyes

As I walk the down the paths carved by the hands of men

She is still glowing iridescent in her beauty

Blue lights wrapped around the building

Soft neon in the pre dawn

The dog pads behind me softly

Licks the back of my knee startling me

The cold wind soothes my anger brings me peace

The innocent sleep of the pavement dwellers

Chirping of the bird in the dark of the dawn

Shadow cast by the pipal leaves

The artificial lights of the streets play a part

The walk ends

The moon she fades away into the dawn

Footie update

Kevin Keegan became Ncl coach...Shearer could potentially become his Assistant...maybe a new era begins. Read more here

Aspiration

From the Sartorialist

Pune

I do a Pune trip every 3-4 months. I go meet friends who will live there. A and AP r two very dear friends of mine who have relocated to Pune, one due to parents and job and the other because of marriage. We graduated together and they are lifelong friends. A was very scared that we would lose touch but she reassured herself and me that we were past the stage where we could probably not stay in touch.

This weekend I left late and caught up with a new friend-D - tht sounds weird but since I met him only at New Year's I think he will be ok with me calling him tht :) He is directionless. His comment was his mind has been rewired with music and lyrics and directions have disappeared. We did a Pune Heritage Walk around Pune Market. Had a super time, walking around. Putting fotus and giving small description as well. First stop - Vishrambagh Wada - this haveli like place which had the Peshwa's durbar.

When it came to these labels, D had a question. Now there was a very old uncle sitting in this Peshwa's darbar reading newspaper (Peshwa uncle must be shuddering in his grave!) Anyways, I was like go ask Uncle. So D (brave soul) went upto uncle and asked him in Marathi btw wot eet eees. Uncle gets up from creaking chair, lifts his creaking bones and moves towards us. He said, 'Mala pun mahiti nahin'. We of course sniggered (wtf else could we do!)


We then proceeded towards Belbag Mandir which looked a bit like this. This place was an oasis of peace in the midst of noisy Pune.


According to the route now we had to go towards the City Post Office. Disappointment as it looked like normal building. We made dig abt how it was built in colonial times and lacked aesthetics :) Then went towards Vachan Mandir. Of course with a name like this, we said must be mandir. It in fact was a 160 year old library - v nice place - full of character.

Walked towards the last port of call - Tulsibag Mandir. Very niceness place this was. This place had similar wooden columns to Vishrambagh Wada but had been painted a hideous green. See for yourself here.


Post this I did depart and went and did bond with AP over cold kapi at Marzorin. That whole area had been converted to a Walking Plaza which means no cars. People were walking, eating, drinking kapi by the gallons and there were roadside stalls and of course loads of shopping happened.

Went to AP's house and was itching to meet her kids. I met her lil one DA..he is the cutest ever. Got very sentimental. Cried for a wee bit. AP was perhaps shocked at this. But seeing her kid made me realise that I am going to go away and not see her kids grow up. They r not going to remember Maasi K and tht sucks totally! Anyways met A and did bond with her. She is another awesome friend, great lover of dance and la française. Anyways, we went for dinner to this fundoo place called Flags - this multi cuisine restaurant. Accha khana khaya and accha daru piya. :D

I had been very keen to do some hiking the next morning but was too pooped so did give up and we snoozed. :) Next day was spent wandering around marriage halls as A is getting married. Had a super time. Luncheon at Not Just Jazz as is tradition that I have estd for myself ever since that first trip to Pune. Left for Mumbai soon afterwards.

I had a very nice weekend. Meeting old and new friend (s), doing a heritage walk around Pune Market, nice food, bonding, some daru and bloddy Sun n Moon Restaurant that directionless D dragged me to. The freaking moons were different everywhere in the restaurant!! But very nice time eet was.

Sex toys and engineering

I'm more interested in the sexiness of engineering than I am the engineering of sex.

Brilliant sentence. Read more here

Fiction

A friend sent me this post and I really liked it . Read more here

The voices from the past continue to talk to me in different tongues

Some garbled; some crystal clear

I listen indifferently yet intently

It sounds like noise and yet there is a pattern

I am meant to open the curtains to let the clear notes filter through

To let the past bid adieu

Hafiz and the beauty of Sufi poetry

Perversion of the justice system

DNA, new technology all of these prove innocence of men accused of crimes they didn't commit. Should I be astounded that it takes 26 years for a man to be proven innocent in the hallowed US of A? Doesn't it take the same amount of time in India where people languish in jails for years on end without any kind of release?

You can read more here

The Journey

When man loses sight of who he is

Disappears under a rubble of thought

Trifles and baubles they rule

Profoundity lost

Who am I? Traits, thoughts, emotions?

I make a stew for myself of these

And slurp it down real quick

The warmth lingers

Makes me happy

The mixture sometimes is not right

I lose myself and wander away

The road is far and I am slow

I fall down occasionally and break some bones

It hurts but I return to follow my path

The destination is close

I ache with that sure knowledge

It will come to me as surely as the sun rises

I must hurry

I see first light...

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

Today's special

The Nine Billion Names of God

Boy sent me this story and its abs brilliant. Arthur Clarke written - can read more here

The humble potato

Changing life/history/economies? Yes eet eees the humble potato we r talking abt..Read more here

A life so well led

We come across people who have never touched our lives but influences millions of others in a different lifetime. I started off reading about something and came to David Astor. Till this very moment I didn't know he existed but he has made such a profound impact on the British understanding of their history through the Observer. This is his story.

6.15 am in the morning

Walked out into a breaking dawn

AamchiMumbai informed me that the sun rose at 6.31 am

I thought a lot as I walked

About life and mornings

I saw the sun

An orange disc as I turned around the corner

Before it starts to grow fiery

4 mynas espied chattering around a tree

The ache in my legs felt good as I ran

Walked into the bus a bit later

Doing maths

A moth flutters startling me

Its soft wings brush against my face n hair

Before it seeks freedom through the bus window

I stepped off the bus

Green butterfly crashlands near my feet before taking off again

The pink of the African Daisy speaks to the pink person inside of me

Heart melts at beautiful graffitti

The wait for a good day has ended

So T posted something and u read the words and they touch heart...

Kuchh log sote hain
Kuchh so kar bhi nahin sote
Kuchh sona chahte hain par so nahin pate
kuchh logon ki meethi neend
Kaam se thaki hui
Kuchh logon ki disturbed
Din mein hui chhoti chhoti baaton
se mood off
par fir
Sab subah uthte hain
Ek cutting chai
Raat ko bhula deti hain
bas…

For sure go and read more here

This piece was written when I was emotionally upset. I calmed down during the next couple of hours and some amount of fone calls later. Would appreciate no questions.

I live in a world where there are rape epidemics. I am stunned n amazed at how much pain n suffering there is in the world and all I worry abt is if I am going to America or not. Does this mean I don't care? I do but the world's problems are too much for me. Myanmar, Darfur, Congo – places with ongoing conflict but to me and to the average person, specks on the map.

Africa is the mad continent - the place God made with time but forgot to give stabilityt to. One of the world's most beautiful continents is overrun by men who don't care how they live. They will not b answering God as their path to hell is paved with fire. The more I read about articles in that continent the more likely it seems that society as we understand it has broken down there.

I read about the rape epidemic happening in Congo. It disturbed me really badly. Women suffer and suffer and sometimes I think there is no end to this suffering. Constantly being called the weaker sex, they r used, controlled and manipulated. This is not aimed as a diatribe against men. But men close their eyes and forget that they came out of a womb when they indulge in unspeakable acts of torture against women. They are committing crimes against humanity n not just the other sex but this is beyond the comprehension of men who are fuelled by a rage and lust for violence.

I talked about choices with a friend. The first choice is about you being born, your mother exercises this choice for you. You come into this world and keep making life choices which means depending on your circumstances you either have it made or you don't. What is the point of this succeee? 2.5 children, a white picket fence house and a man to call your own - the emblems of success. A dear friend once said to me, when someone u care for makes a hard decision- a decision you don't like – tough luck. What you need to do is be there for that person in every way you can.

Its about support and care and trust. Knowing that I can make a phone call and people will help me no matter what time of the night it is. Its about realising that its your life not yur parents. Sidney Poitier said in 'Guess Who's Coming to Dinner' to his father, “I love you but I don't owe you.” (Bow to you SS for tht one!)

Its weird how Mondays can affect you.

I walked down a path. I was surrounded by greenery as far as the eye could see. Birds chirped and sunlight filtered through the trees. Butterflies abounded. Tasty was there as well doing his usual acrobatics bringing a smile to my face. As I walked further down oer a gurgling brook my mind wandered and every happy thing I had ever done in my life came to mind.

I espied an apple on the path. No apple tree in sight and that left me wondering..I picked it up. Much to my amazement it was a beautiful red apple, perfect in shape n appearance. Like one of those pretty apples in tht diamond commercial except mine was red. I almost didn't want to bite into it. The desire to do so was high n the temptation strong. An existential dilemma over biting an apple.

I bit into it and the taste of the apple flooded me, it essence hitting my taste buds. I bit further in – the apple tasted juicy n succulent. I felt greedy like a child who tastes its first sweet and cannot resist eating everything in sight. I loved the last taste of the apple lingering in my lips. It tasted sweet – of temptation succumbed to...

The realisation always strikes in retrospect.

Myanmar - an analysis

Have been a bit bizzy and not v updated with what is happening in Myanmar at the minute. Boy sent me a v nice article about Myanmar and the politics involved in it. Must read here