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