And very soon...I shall cross the threshold into a personal milestone :) The big 3-O and I am utterly thrilled at the thought.
Strangely I do not feel my age, if you know what I mean.
Looking back, I think I am regressing. In that, as I get older: I am becoming younger in thought and words and actions *I know, that just about left MY head spinning*
And I doubt this is denial *heh* (I did have a scare for a moment there when the thought first occurred to me)
I feel replenished, recharged, ready: its like a second chance.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Diwali Sparklers
I love Diwali. The festival of lights is among my favourite festivals. I love its simplicity. Mostly, I love this festival because over the years, this time of year has seen the most exciting developments in my life. Coincidence or Destiny: I can judge that without prejudice before my final breath.
2003: On a cold night right after Diwali, the single most important turning point of my life stepped out of a train on to Bhopal railway station with a fever and a dazzling smile. I see that spark of a smile even behind my closed eyes.
2004: This Diwali night saw several lights being lit and fires kindled.
The sky intermittently lit by sparklers and showers and rockets. Little brown earthen lamps and colourful candles show off their laughing flames from balconies and terraces all around the apartment complex. A small dark room in a second-floor apartment: Lit by dancing light from a large bowl filled with rose petals and floating candles. Two forms on the floor giggling, munching, discovering and plotting.
2005: The flames grew in strength. Diwali was all about stepping into spaces and stretching boundaries and being comfortable in all skins. When plain words became heated avowals... When every touch spoke for deeper feelings… When there were no candles lit but enough fires ignited…
2006 & 2007: The push and pull of distance was fuel to raging flames.
And now it is Diwali 2008…And we stand at the threshold of another journey. As we “wallow in these deliciously unknown feelings” – life seems so much more like an air diving adventure – all thrills and anticipation and adrenaline but at the moment of reckoning it all comes down to simple moves: keep position, make adjustments for air and wind movements, a tug and a pull and stay afloat till you are on solid earth. A prayer wings up that I may heed these moves.
Let there be light in all our lives.
To all visitors to the Muse, wishing you a Happy Diwali and a prosperous year ahead. Be safe, take care and keep visiting.
2003: On a cold night right after Diwali, the single most important turning point of my life stepped out of a train on to Bhopal railway station with a fever and a dazzling smile. I see that spark of a smile even behind my closed eyes.
2004: This Diwali night saw several lights being lit and fires kindled.
The sky intermittently lit by sparklers and showers and rockets. Little brown earthen lamps and colourful candles show off their laughing flames from balconies and terraces all around the apartment complex. A small dark room in a second-floor apartment: Lit by dancing light from a large bowl filled with rose petals and floating candles. Two forms on the floor giggling, munching, discovering and plotting.
2005: The flames grew in strength. Diwali was all about stepping into spaces and stretching boundaries and being comfortable in all skins. When plain words became heated avowals... When every touch spoke for deeper feelings… When there were no candles lit but enough fires ignited…
2006 & 2007: The push and pull of distance was fuel to raging flames.
And now it is Diwali 2008…And we stand at the threshold of another journey. As we “wallow in these deliciously unknown feelings” – life seems so much more like an air diving adventure – all thrills and anticipation and adrenaline but at the moment of reckoning it all comes down to simple moves: keep position, make adjustments for air and wind movements, a tug and a pull and stay afloat till you are on solid earth. A prayer wings up that I may heed these moves.
Let there be light in all our lives.
To all visitors to the Muse, wishing you a Happy Diwali and a prosperous year ahead. Be safe, take care and keep visiting.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Invert
- When extremely sane people lose control - in a very good way, of course
- When close-lipped folks get an insane desire to spill beans and all
- When supposedly mature people have to clamp down on an irresistible urge to giggle endlessly
- When thoughts long turned over and over in the cached away recesses of mind are let out into the free air
- When close-lipped folks get an insane desire to spill beans and all
- When supposedly mature people have to clamp down on an irresistible urge to giggle endlessly
- When thoughts long turned over and over in the cached away recesses of mind are let out into the free air
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Chandrayaan-1: Lift off for India – Thumbs down for India's English media
October 22, 2008: 6:30 am (IST)
India sent its first Moon Mission, the Chandrayaan - 1, this morning.
I waited for the live telecast, then sat wide-eyed through it with goose-bumps for company and then watched and rewatched it on all news channels available to me.
I watched the anticipation, the countdown and the blast off with the enthusiasm of a 30-year-old who grew up on comics and stories and legends of the Apollo moon missions.
I was reminded of lazy noontimes lying sprawled on my tummy on the floor of my balcony crawling the Marvel comics' version of the Apollo moon missions, the test flights, the agonies and the triumphs that was part of the whole package.
I still remember my 10-year-old self sitting with a 6-year-old neighbour in my lap as he turned page after page of the same comics book with the same wide-eyed thrill of unreachable skies. This was the routine every April afternoon for the next four years :) The kid went on to be a mechanical engineer and I love to think that his desire was formed on those precious afternoons.
I remember my 16-year-old self lying on my terrace in early evening twilight and gazing at the moon and thinking of the secrets it embraces and gives away to only those courageous and far-thinking enough to attempt to pry those secrets - An hour later, I was on a bus which took me away from home for the first time and I stymied the longing to go back to my home comfort with thoughts of the lonely moon and the men brave enough to have visited her.
Today, I watched the lift-off and then trawled through the 130 channels available to me searching for a news channel to give me the juice on the Chandrayaan-1. I was bouncing in my seat, excited, thrilled, speechless with overwhelming joy, sending prayers and love across to hundreds of scientists and engineers who worked towards this iconic day for India.
In minutes, I was deflated. This gave way to crushing disappointment followed by a heart-breaking betrayal and a realisation of Indian media realities. In moments, I had come down from the thrilling skies back to sodden earth.
No English news channel could give me anything besides the mandatory blast-off visual.
I log on to the internet, hoping for something to satiate my Chandrayaan-1 hunger: nah da...moon mission can go to the skies, but the rotten politicians of the land deserve more screenspace and wordspace. Well, I didnt know that.
To the English media of this land - you who boast and pride yourself on moulding yourself to American media ideals of yellow journalism - I strongly doubt that if this was the first US moon mission, they would have filled time and space with the general divisiveness of politics. Instead, there would have been stories of scientists, of mission timelines, of what their breakfast constituted, of hurdles and achievements and talkshows of when they can send Man to moon.
Not in my country. We consider scientists as boring entities, we give them ridiculously mangy facilities and while attending page 3 parties with the 'right' people, we will ridicule and crib and rant about how little our space mission has achieved.
40 mins later, Asianet - a Malayalam channel, satisfied my craving. They had a 15 minute capsule of engineers assembling the machine that is right now orbiting our planet on its way to Earth's constant companion in good times and bad.
I have an Indian's fool hope that some children somewhere in this country caught the coverage and watched it wide-eyed with goosebumps for company and thought 'to hell with breakfast'. I hope that there will be more children and young people clueing in to newspapers and tv news to track that solitary rocket.
I certainly shall.
So I can revisit those lazy afternoons which seem to have passed aeons ago.
Those afternoons did not send me to moon or even space.
But I orbit imaginary words, I land on uncharted worlds and breach new boundaries of the space of my imagination.
Resounding cheers for all scientists, engineers, mechanics and the chai boy who kept them all well-supplied with the energiser liquid :)
Thank You for this day.
India sent its first Moon Mission, the Chandrayaan - 1, this morning.
I waited for the live telecast, then sat wide-eyed through it with goose-bumps for company and then watched and rewatched it on all news channels available to me.
I watched the anticipation, the countdown and the blast off with the enthusiasm of a 30-year-old who grew up on comics and stories and legends of the Apollo moon missions.
I was reminded of lazy noontimes lying sprawled on my tummy on the floor of my balcony crawling the Marvel comics' version of the Apollo moon missions, the test flights, the agonies and the triumphs that was part of the whole package.
I still remember my 10-year-old self sitting with a 6-year-old neighbour in my lap as he turned page after page of the same comics book with the same wide-eyed thrill of unreachable skies. This was the routine every April afternoon for the next four years :) The kid went on to be a mechanical engineer and I love to think that his desire was formed on those precious afternoons.
I remember my 16-year-old self lying on my terrace in early evening twilight and gazing at the moon and thinking of the secrets it embraces and gives away to only those courageous and far-thinking enough to attempt to pry those secrets - An hour later, I was on a bus which took me away from home for the first time and I stymied the longing to go back to my home comfort with thoughts of the lonely moon and the men brave enough to have visited her.
Today, I watched the lift-off and then trawled through the 130 channels available to me searching for a news channel to give me the juice on the Chandrayaan-1. I was bouncing in my seat, excited, thrilled, speechless with overwhelming joy, sending prayers and love across to hundreds of scientists and engineers who worked towards this iconic day for India.
In minutes, I was deflated. This gave way to crushing disappointment followed by a heart-breaking betrayal and a realisation of Indian media realities. In moments, I had come down from the thrilling skies back to sodden earth.
No English news channel could give me anything besides the mandatory blast-off visual.
I log on to the internet, hoping for something to satiate my Chandrayaan-1 hunger: nah da...moon mission can go to the skies, but the rotten politicians of the land deserve more screenspace and wordspace. Well, I didnt know that.
To the English media of this land - you who boast and pride yourself on moulding yourself to American media ideals of yellow journalism - I strongly doubt that if this was the first US moon mission, they would have filled time and space with the general divisiveness of politics. Instead, there would have been stories of scientists, of mission timelines, of what their breakfast constituted, of hurdles and achievements and talkshows of when they can send Man to moon.
Not in my country. We consider scientists as boring entities, we give them ridiculously mangy facilities and while attending page 3 parties with the 'right' people, we will ridicule and crib and rant about how little our space mission has achieved.
40 mins later, Asianet - a Malayalam channel, satisfied my craving. They had a 15 minute capsule of engineers assembling the machine that is right now orbiting our planet on its way to Earth's constant companion in good times and bad.
I have an Indian's fool hope that some children somewhere in this country caught the coverage and watched it wide-eyed with goosebumps for company and thought 'to hell with breakfast'. I hope that there will be more children and young people clueing in to newspapers and tv news to track that solitary rocket.
I certainly shall.
So I can revisit those lazy afternoons which seem to have passed aeons ago.
Those afternoons did not send me to moon or even space.
But I orbit imaginary words, I land on uncharted worlds and breach new boundaries of the space of my imagination.
Resounding cheers for all scientists, engineers, mechanics and the chai boy who kept them all well-supplied with the energiser liquid :)
Thank You for this day.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Man (5/?)
“Will you stop that?”
“Easy for you to say. Yours is not the face that is known to the wrong eyes.”
“Well…wearing down the floor is not going to wipe that.”
“What will you have me do?”
“I would say that you rest now. They will wait for sundown…I cannot have you slow on your legs or mind then.”
Manikyam drops into the couch at the corner of the room, away from the windows.
“Are you always so friendly?”
“I do my best.”
A small muscle around his mouth flickers. It is there for a moment and disappears soon enough. He sits with his head in his hands. I almost feel bad. But four days of waiting is making even me jittery. I have hunkered down far longer so I cannot understand why this bothers me. My instincts are zapping like nervous synapses and I am loathe to disregard them. Not now. Definitely now.
I am beginning to have a bad feeling about this. There are two SUVs parked down the block every day and every night the light in that no-longer-vacant second floor apartment opposite the field mocks me. What is the plan? I can make out no pattern, no going ins and outs - they probably have stocked up on food, I can pick up no phone frequencies, not for radio either. These are not amateur goondas...These men are thorough, all sleek eelishness as they go around doing their dirty work without leaving any trails. I can feel the electric anticipation in the air. If a life was not at stake, I would call this fun.
Manikyam is not a patient man. He wants this to get over. Till yesterday, he believed that the men had no idea about our location. And then at noon, the yellow piece of cloth – we sought you and found you - was tied to their window. Ever since, I have had a fretting, pacing, obsessing over guilt, Manikyam on my hands. With my nerves a-jangle, I was not exactly being the perfect company for him now.
Slowly, Manikyam slides down the couch and I hope that for his sake, he can get some sleep. He kept awake last night. Despite all assurance that I would wake him if there was a reason to do so. I lectured him on the benefits of sleep for a while. Then realised, the man has the right to worry about the next sunrise. It is his life at stake.
I make myself comfortable on the wooden chair sat near the door of our safehouse.
What is a safehouse with its cover blown called?
I cannot believe myself. Our cover is blown, I have a hunted man on my hands, I do not want his blood on my conscience, I want to get out from this alive, and I am asking myself riddles.
I slump down on the chair and think back to the Wednesday when predictable madness went upside down its head.
“Easy for you to say. Yours is not the face that is known to the wrong eyes.”
“Well…wearing down the floor is not going to wipe that.”
“What will you have me do?”
“I would say that you rest now. They will wait for sundown…I cannot have you slow on your legs or mind then.”
Manikyam drops into the couch at the corner of the room, away from the windows.
“Are you always so friendly?”
“I do my best.”
A small muscle around his mouth flickers. It is there for a moment and disappears soon enough. He sits with his head in his hands. I almost feel bad. But four days of waiting is making even me jittery. I have hunkered down far longer so I cannot understand why this bothers me. My instincts are zapping like nervous synapses and I am loathe to disregard them. Not now. Definitely now.
I am beginning to have a bad feeling about this. There are two SUVs parked down the block every day and every night the light in that no-longer-vacant second floor apartment opposite the field mocks me. What is the plan? I can make out no pattern, no going ins and outs - they probably have stocked up on food, I can pick up no phone frequencies, not for radio either. These are not amateur goondas...These men are thorough, all sleek eelishness as they go around doing their dirty work without leaving any trails. I can feel the electric anticipation in the air. If a life was not at stake, I would call this fun.
Manikyam is not a patient man. He wants this to get over. Till yesterday, he believed that the men had no idea about our location. And then at noon, the yellow piece of cloth – we sought you and found you - was tied to their window. Ever since, I have had a fretting, pacing, obsessing over guilt, Manikyam on my hands. With my nerves a-jangle, I was not exactly being the perfect company for him now.
Slowly, Manikyam slides down the couch and I hope that for his sake, he can get some sleep. He kept awake last night. Despite all assurance that I would wake him if there was a reason to do so. I lectured him on the benefits of sleep for a while. Then realised, the man has the right to worry about the next sunrise. It is his life at stake.
I make myself comfortable on the wooden chair sat near the door of our safehouse.
What is a safehouse with its cover blown called?
I cannot believe myself. Our cover is blown, I have a hunted man on my hands, I do not want his blood on my conscience, I want to get out from this alive, and I am asking myself riddles.
I slump down on the chair and think back to the Wednesday when predictable madness went upside down its head.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Of Midnight Calls
A cold warm night:
The clock struck the witching hour minutes back
A body tosses and turns on the bed in the corner of a little room
The body should have been asleep hours back
But a Friday night comes with concessions...of reading favourite blogs, of sneaking a look at the next chapter of an Archer book, of listening to rollicking Bollymusic, of dozing in a chair with the night light on, of keeping company with midnight...
Options run out and the tired body and sleepy eyes finally hit the pillow
A missed call: an olde code of bonding, of remembering...
A smiley received back
A sleepy haze takes over
A ring
A call
From a beloved
Disbelief for a span of a moment
Neverending giggles spanning minutes which seem like hours
Numbness at the end of status quo
An unwalked path
Delicious strangeness
Anticipation at this state of newness
Sleep thrown down
Silent giggles in the silence of the night
Soft smiles - will the morning confirm these happenings?
A night's sleep spent at the edge of a pillow
Scary, looked forward to, anticipated: Not the new state, but the new state with the same person, the same lovely beloved being - long known, long friended, long loved, of fluffy dreams, of single-mindedness to see their fruition...
To Joy...
All that I have ever said to you, I say all that back again :)
And I look forward to saying all that all over again and again...
The clock struck the witching hour minutes back
A body tosses and turns on the bed in the corner of a little room
The body should have been asleep hours back
But a Friday night comes with concessions...of reading favourite blogs, of sneaking a look at the next chapter of an Archer book, of listening to rollicking Bollymusic, of dozing in a chair with the night light on, of keeping company with midnight...
Options run out and the tired body and sleepy eyes finally hit the pillow
A missed call: an olde code of bonding, of remembering...
A smiley received back
A sleepy haze takes over
A ring
A call
From a beloved
Disbelief for a span of a moment
Neverending giggles spanning minutes which seem like hours
Numbness at the end of status quo
An unwalked path
Delicious strangeness
Anticipation at this state of newness
Sleep thrown down
Silent giggles in the silence of the night
Soft smiles - will the morning confirm these happenings?
A night's sleep spent at the edge of a pillow
Scary, looked forward to, anticipated: Not the new state, but the new state with the same person, the same lovely beloved being - long known, long friended, long loved, of fluffy dreams, of single-mindedness to see their fruition...
To Joy...
All that I have ever said to you, I say all that back again :)
And I look forward to saying all that all over again and again...
Thursday, October 16, 2008
2 o- clock musings
Is Self the most edited commodity...
Is Truth the most edited commodity...
What if a majority of our friends are the ones we inherited? What would be the feeling when they are gone?
Is Truth the most edited commodity...
What if a majority of our friends are the ones we inherited? What would be the feeling when they are gone?
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