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Ajar,like the mind..
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Women
Aeroplane chitte
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Birthday party
A hot enne-neeru snana early in the morning.
Crisp and fresh new dress.
Pooja at the temple.
Akkas' first gift which ALWAYS,for almost 20 years,has been a hand-made bouquet with all flowers and croton leaves from the garden and a neatly tied ribbon.. :)
Re-counting if amma has put enough chocolates in the neat box for friends at school,for auto-mama and auto-mates plus extra chocolates for those who suddenly decide to wish looking at my 'color-dress'.
'Lacto-kings' or 'caramilks' for friends.
Kismi toffee bars for teachers and 'close' friends.
On entering class after the prayers at the assembly-'Happy b'day to you....
may the 'good' god bless you....dear sahana..happy b'day to you..' in chorus. ["good" god,huh????]
'Can i take Deepti with me to distribute chocolates,miss?'.
'Avlige kottyante,nangu erdu kodalva?'.
A home-made cake with not-so-neat icing with a colorful candle showing my age[then single-digit].
Cousins and neighbourhood kids shaking hands not letting go till they get atleast 3 chocolates each.
Games-the never ending sudden catch,'icepice',the then all-time-famous lemon-and-the-spoon,balloon bursting..
The much awaited 'cake cut' with a red bow-tied knief.
Colorfully wrapped gifts.['Enide idrolage?'-'Pencil-boxxu'..'Scrabble'..'Kitchen settu'..'Pilot pennu'..'Scented cartoon rubbers']
Aaah,how i miss those june 21sts..
Crisp and fresh new dress.
Pooja at the temple.
Akkas' first gift which ALWAYS,for almost 20 years,has been a hand-made bouquet with all flowers and croton leaves from the garden and a neatly tied ribbon.. :)
Re-counting if amma has put enough chocolates in the neat box for friends at school,for auto-mama and auto-mates plus extra chocolates for those who suddenly decide to wish looking at my 'color-dress'.
'Lacto-kings' or 'caramilks' for friends.
Kismi toffee bars for teachers and 'close' friends.
On entering class after the prayers at the assembly-'Happy b'day to you....
may the 'good' god bless you....dear sahana..happy b'day to you..' in chorus. ["good" god,huh????]
'Can i take Deepti with me to distribute chocolates,miss?'.
'Avlige kottyante,nangu erdu kodalva?'.
A home-made cake with not-so-neat icing with a colorful candle showing my age[then single-digit].
Cousins and neighbourhood kids shaking hands not letting go till they get atleast 3 chocolates each.
Games-the never ending sudden catch,'icepice',the then all-time-famous lemon-and-the-spoon,balloon bursting..
The much awaited 'cake cut' with a red bow-tied knief.
Colorfully wrapped gifts.['Enide idrolage?'-'Pencil-boxxu'..'Scrabble'..'Kitchen settu'..'Pilot pennu'..'Scented cartoon rubbers']
Aaah,how i miss those june 21sts..
Friday, June 6, 2008
Cacophoenix and a mute spectator.
From the window of the room back-stage ,she saw him come.She knew that he'd be there on time and he was.She continued humming one of Pt.Jasrajs' composition in malhaar as she watched him get out of his car and lock it.
It was a reharsal.
She'd put a tilak on her forehead-deep red,to match the borders of the green saree she'd worn.
As she walked from the room to the stage,the sound of her anklets echoed steadily with each step she took.
There weren't many people.
She started off with the first note-theShadaj....it was Raag-Kedar.
Her singing was natural.
Every note she took was perfect..there was a melody in her voice that the Bansuri couldn't drown..and so much rhythm that the tabla could just match.
She sang effortlessly.
Shringaram.Haasyam.Karunam.Raudram.Bheebhatsyam.Adbhutam.
Shaantam.Krodham.Shokam.Utsaaham.Bhayam.Vismayam.
Her voice had every expression.
Every time she closed her eyes to delve into a deeper note,he noticed that she'd become one with it.
Every gesture her hands made were graceful..
There was a grace in each breath she took..
Her eyes expressed every emotion.
Once or twice,in between,her eyes met his.She could see that he was attentive.
His attentiveness was what caught her attention.It was unusual that there was somebody who'd not lost himself in her music.And his gaze told her that he longed for something more soulful than her singing.She felt perplexed.She looked away forcefully.
She next sang in Bhoop.
He found her eyes playfully beautiful..
..the kajal she'd carefully put earlier only added more charm to the joyous notes of bhoop..
****************
When they met the next time,he told her about the monsoons.
About how the clouds gather suddenly from nowhere..about how dark it suddenly gets..about how the wind blows..about how the breeze makes one feel..
About the sudden out-burst of the dark clouds..the smell of the wet earth..the lightening and the sound of the thunders that accompany.
****************
Fireworks crackled merrily to life.
For his eyes,it was just a flash and then smoke.
The colors in them,he felt,were only momentary..untrue..
She failed to see what colors meant to him.
She thought otherwise.For her the colors in the firework were real and permanent.
****************
The stars had lit the night sky.
As she sat there incessantly speaking,he looked up to gaze at the stars.
Eternity was truth,he'd believed.
His gaze over the skies was too strong for her to continue.
She suddenly stopped.
She found in him a mute spectator whose own pains had remained unheard not unsung..
Amidst all the loudness of her music,his feeble voice had faded..
In the joys of her own rendition,she'd failed to hear his.
She had let her melody drown his tunes..
*****************
When she'd next sing,it'd be music for his ears,not noise.
The rains would wash away all the dust..its music would defy all the noise.
she would find joy in singing malhaar for him when he would forget himself in her music..
***************
Monsoons had arrived.
She could see what he saw in the out-burst of the clouds..in the
liveliness of the stars and the eternity in the colors they flash..
And,When she sang malhaar,she found a new meaning in each of its note.
It was a reharsal.
She'd put a tilak on her forehead-deep red,to match the borders of the green saree she'd worn.
As she walked from the room to the stage,the sound of her anklets echoed steadily with each step she took.
There weren't many people.
She started off with the first note-theShadaj....it was Raag-Kedar.
Her singing was natural.
Every note she took was perfect..there was a melody in her voice that the Bansuri couldn't drown..and so much rhythm that the tabla could just match.
She sang effortlessly.
Shringaram.Haasyam.Karunam.Raudram.Bheebhatsyam.Adbhutam.
Shaantam.Krodham.Shokam.Utsaaham.Bhayam.Vismayam.
Her voice had every expression.
Every time she closed her eyes to delve into a deeper note,he noticed that she'd become one with it.
Every gesture her hands made were graceful..
There was a grace in each breath she took..
Her eyes expressed every emotion.
Once or twice,in between,her eyes met his.She could see that he was attentive.
His attentiveness was what caught her attention.It was unusual that there was somebody who'd not lost himself in her music.And his gaze told her that he longed for something more soulful than her singing.She felt perplexed.She looked away forcefully.
She next sang in Bhoop.
He found her eyes playfully beautiful..
..the kajal she'd carefully put earlier only added more charm to the joyous notes of bhoop..
****************
When they met the next time,he told her about the monsoons.
About how the clouds gather suddenly from nowhere..about how dark it suddenly gets..about how the wind blows..about how the breeze makes one feel..
About the sudden out-burst of the dark clouds..the smell of the wet earth..the lightening and the sound of the thunders that accompany.
****************
Fireworks crackled merrily to life.
For his eyes,it was just a flash and then smoke.
The colors in them,he felt,were only momentary..untrue..
She failed to see what colors meant to him.
She thought otherwise.For her the colors in the firework were real and permanent.
****************
The stars had lit the night sky.
As she sat there incessantly speaking,he looked up to gaze at the stars.
Eternity was truth,he'd believed.
His gaze over the skies was too strong for her to continue.
She suddenly stopped.
She found in him a mute spectator whose own pains had remained unheard not unsung..
Amidst all the loudness of her music,his feeble voice had faded..
In the joys of her own rendition,she'd failed to hear his.
She had let her melody drown his tunes..
*****************
When she'd next sing,it'd be music for his ears,not noise.
The rains would wash away all the dust..its music would defy all the noise.
she would find joy in singing malhaar for him when he would forget himself in her music..
***************
Monsoons had arrived.
She could see what he saw in the out-burst of the clouds..in the
liveliness of the stars and the eternity in the colors they flash..
And,When she sang malhaar,she found a new meaning in each of its note.
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