Legs intertwined

Legs intertwined, originally uploaded by SMJ737.

The day begins with sunbeams
They dance around my face playfully
A moan tears through the air
Its echo lingering on

A light touch
The whisper of a breath
The feel of stubble on the nape of my neck
The hint of tongue before the lips
Gently collide

The sunbeams continue to play

Lapping at your feet

Lapping at your feet, originally uploaded by Chris Stickley.

Palm fronds

Sway gently in the breeze

Sunlit blue skies

The sea radiates a cold warmth

Her waves lap gently against my skin

I am enlivened

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Totally ROFL :D....take the quiz ..u won' regret it!

Its a pointless journey

Without feeling hurt and pain

You wake up one morning

Find yourself transported into a no man's land

There is no succor for the hungry heart here

It was a dream

Where you held happiness in the palm of your hand

Where you stood and poured your heart out to another stranger

The waves lapping at your feet

Life is a minefield

You end up losing a heart or two

The mental scars – they never go away

My valley with the yellow flowers

Where I yearn to walk waits for me

I am still meandering

Achmed Returns

Dream a lil dream of me

Walk along paths golden with the flowers fallen

Walk along dark alleys lit by neon

Wait for a chance to show true colours

Hurt pain disappointment

Loneliness want desire

A stew waiting to be cooked up

Eat, slurp and drink it up

Slow fast quick as a bumble bee

Imbibe what your soul wants

Varnish it with the love of a thousand red balloons

Make the dream come true

Or let it vanish into the morning light

RIP

Interesting reads

A couple of news articles got my eye.

The first referred to an unsolved historical mystery in Ozland. Read more here

The 2nd referred to another literary - history type article. Read more here

The meaning of life

Warning : Free flowing post

Since my blog is meant to reflect life and all its purpose and meaning, I am here doing exactly that. Sounds fatuous I presume or is it flippant? Well, since this is random blog post, I am being random. Someone I knw likes using the word random a lot. I feel like doing random things now. Why do I feel like doing random things? Well, my US plan flopped miserably. I got rejected in both the places I had applied to. I am terribly disappointed but what the heck right?

Life is supposed to be disappointing. I mean where would the randomness be without the balance? I feel bitter, rejuvanted, hopeful, disappointed all at the same time. I feel like I can do anything- go assist people doing docus in Orissa, walk on water (slight exaggeration) but I can sort of float (brings back memories of floating in the Atlantic Ocean at 11.00 pm in the nite in Barbados holding Inger's hand and worried shit I would drown) and perhaps move anywhere I want to. There r bonds here but they are strong and won't break - distance can't damage them.

Oh yesh, people reading this blog : I am looking for a new job. Heritage, research, museums - are forte and what I want to do. Anyone know of anyone who wants to give me a job in this field pls by all means let me know. Next option, content research kind of thing. I am pretty much open to anything and anywhere - like I said distance doesn't stymie me anymore.

Evolution of Dance

Yesu mujhe bacha lo

I am bored beyond belief

I wish I was someplace else

I wish the earth would swallow me up

Take me on an underground adventure

My soul yearns to escape

These boundaries of cubicles

My heart sings a song

I can hear it going

La la la la la la la

The humming echoes through the body

Till I feel I am vibrating

One of those dildoes

People use to gain some notion of pleasure

Separate yet distinct

I am two parts – soul and body

The imagination is the third

I can feel the earth start to open up

My adventure begins

So long world

My creation

I cooked yesterday and of course took fotus :) Here is how the pasta and veggies looked..

The want doesn't diminish

I feel ache, desire, loneliness

The mixture is potent

Conflagration imminent

Making the peace is never easy

Sometimes I rail against the world for giving options that are not easy

Why should there be difficult choices?

Complex and complicated are on the same page

Complex is as complex was

Words strung together

Steel grey to a mild cherise

Colours depict our emotions

No rest for the wicked mind

Early deaths for the chosen ones

The mild winter gloom is dissipating

I feel enlivened with the rage

It dances in my mind like a pixie

The garden of life is not in bloom

She fades with the night time into nothingness

I want to feel at home

I want to sleep under the stars

I want to make my peace

I want my choices to make me

Outbursts of laughter

The pure joy of the moment

A meeting of the eyes

Shared glances

Story unfolds

Pune BarCamp

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 ....