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..
Sunday, June 22, 2008
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.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Some random non-sense
[as Soumya'd call it..]
(15 [written in red]in one box + 19 in the one right below)/2.
I felt relieved that i've 2 marks more than the required average and blissfully forgot all the things i'd 'studied' [at the rate of 1 page an hour]
I scribbled some krap for some 10 marks.It took only 5 minutes.
Manasa was besides busy writing[She slogs a lot,poor girl].
I closed the blue book,capped my pen and sat simply.
Shri from behind asked if i wanted the 'chit' he'd got.I said no.
I returned my blue-book back and walked out to sit near the stairs where there was,just a week back,a huge bee-hive.
I was waiting for manasa to come out so that we could discuss more about why our project isn't working at college.I wondered for a moment why i was not bothered about not having got a 25 as i'd 've been just till last semester.
I could see a few people from where i sat-Farah waved at me;Greeshma was busy turning back to check her answers with someone whom i cudn't see..Then there was my to-be colleague who'd bitched about my project being way too simple compared to what her team'd got.. and one junior guy gesturing madly at his friend to keep his book in a position from where he could copy properly..there was kushal who'd not looked up yet and a few others.
I sat there with the half-sheet of question paper.I tore it into 2,made folds to make a glider and a rocket. I tried the glider first.Kushal saw it glide all smooth with a perfect landing and gave me a thumbs-up.
Garfield[read RSP] & sHystem[read umesh sir] were busy invigilating.
Jackie[read jayashankra(sir)] came out the class before i could try the rocket.I'd expected him to enquire about what went wrong with my project demo.He didn't.Apparently because his colleague, Mr.half-open-eyed-beast, was around.
I remembered that i'd spent almost 2 days in making paper rockets during my first PU after i'd read a few books on paper-rockets in the library!
I felt glad that i still managed to make neat gliders
and that i'd left my cell back home
and that i needn't type in messages.
Somebody had taken 3/4th of the bee-hive for its honey..there was only a small portion that was left hanging.It looked so incomplete and pale..like it hung there only to dry up someday and fall..
And suddenly i felt so alone and happy.
P.S- Soumya,mansa,shri,farah,kushal,greeshma are friends.
Jackie,Garfield,sHystem are foes[well,almost]. :P
I felt relieved that i've 2 marks more than the required average and blissfully forgot all the things i'd 'studied' [at the rate of 1 page an hour]
I scribbled some krap for some 10 marks.It took only 5 minutes.
Manasa was besides busy writing[She slogs a lot,poor girl].
I closed the blue book,capped my pen and sat simply.
Shri from behind asked if i wanted the 'chit' he'd got.I said no.
I returned my blue-book back and walked out to sit near the stairs where there was,just a week back,a huge bee-hive.
I was waiting for manasa to come out so that we could discuss more about why our project isn't working at college.I wondered for a moment why i was not bothered about not having got a 25 as i'd 've been just till last semester.
I could see a few people from where i sat-Farah waved at me;Greeshma was busy turning back to check her answers with someone whom i cudn't see..Then there was my to-be colleague who'd bitched about my project being way too simple compared to what her team'd got.. and one junior guy gesturing madly at his friend to keep his book in a position from where he could copy properly..there was kushal who'd not looked up yet and a few others.
I sat there with the half-sheet of question paper.I tore it into 2,made folds to make a glider and a rocket. I tried the glider first.Kushal saw it glide all smooth with a perfect landing and gave me a thumbs-up.
Garfield[read RSP] & sHystem[read umesh sir] were busy invigilating.
Jackie[read jayashankra(sir)] came out the class before i could try the rocket.I'd expected him to enquire about what went wrong with my project demo.He didn't.Apparently because his colleague, Mr.half-open-eyed-beast, was around.
I remembered that i'd spent almost 2 days in making paper rockets during my first PU after i'd read a few books on paper-rockets in the library!
I felt glad that i still managed to make neat gliders
and that i'd left my cell back home
and that i needn't type in messages.
Somebody had taken 3/4th of the bee-hive for its honey..there was only a small portion that was left hanging.It looked so incomplete and pale..like it hung there only to dry up someday and fall..
And suddenly i felt so alone and happy.
P.S- Soumya,mansa,shri,farah,kushal,greeshma are friends.
Jackie,Garfield,sHystem are foes[well,almost]. :P
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
And then,it all turned ugly..
Like an iceberg,i feel..seemingly enjoying all the warmth of the sunrays falling over;
cold and frozen deep within..barren,lonely and looted.
This numbness-i wish i would atleast hope to see it gone..
But,I feel addicted to it.
It comforts.
Like nothing else.
I wish i could cry and give myself some solace.
Not being devoid of tears would have been a relief!
Alas!
cold and frozen deep within..barren,lonely and looted.
This numbness-i wish i would atleast hope to see it gone..
But,I feel addicted to it.
It comforts.
Like nothing else.
I wish i could cry and give myself some solace.
Not being devoid of tears would have been a relief!
Alas!
Analog VS Digital
I see only the extremes - white and black , yes and no , silence and noise ;
I fail to see millions of the other shades which lie in between,you complained
[maybe you only said it.But,it sounded to me like you complained.I know it wasn't actually a complain.]
Why i categorize everything under the hood of truthfullness and falsity,i wonder..
i don't seek to know what lies in between..>> I may sound square-wavish..You may choose to call me a nincompoop :)
I've gotten myself used to live with zeroes and ones..
I see fullness in silence..in a yes..in a no and in a zero..in black and in white - for i know it contains all the colors and all the shades you speak of..
Maybe someday,i'll see pragmatically and start appreciating the sinosity!
I fail to see millions of the other shades which lie in between,you complained
[maybe you only said it.But,it sounded to me like you complained.I know it wasn't actually a complain.]
Why i categorize everything under the hood of truthfullness and falsity,i wonder..
i don't seek to know what lies in between..>> I may sound square-wavish..You may choose to call me a nincompoop :)
I've gotten myself used to live with zeroes and ones..
I see fullness in silence..in a yes..in a no and in a zero..in black and in white - for i know it contains all the colors and all the shades you speak of..
Maybe someday,i'll see pragmatically and start appreciating the sinosity!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
A thousand splendid suns - Khaled Hosseini
To all mothers and daughters who strive in their own Kabuls..[ "like rocks in a riverbed , enduring without complaint , their grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that wash over them.."]
To all Nanas' and Mariam jos' who endure Jalils' and Rasheeds'..
And to all Lailas' and Azizas' who cherish Tariqs' presence in their lives..
"One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs,
Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls."
-Translated lines from a poem of one Persian poet Saeb-e-tabrizi from where the title of the novel is taken
Friday, May 9, 2008
Solitude
but give me leave to go away empty-handed
lest the price of love that you recklessly pay
should only reveal the poorness of my heart!
I can but litter your life with shreds of my pain
and keep you awake at night with the moon of my lonely dreams
It is better that i remain speechless
and help you to forget me.
While walking on my solitary way,
i met you at the dusk of night fall
I was about to ask you to take my hand
when i gazed at your face and was afraid
for i saw there the glow of fire that lay asleep
in the deep of your hearts' dark silence.
If in my frenzy i waken it up into flames
it will shed a glimmer on the brink of my emptiness
I know what sacrifice is mine
to offer to your loves' sacred fire.
I bend my head and trudge onto my barren end
provisioned with the remembrance of our meeting.
- Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore
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