Blue White Gold

Oranges

2012-01-28T11:40:00.000+05:30

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1. Oranges today are 40 Rupees a kg where I live. If you want to share orange rates in your locality, why, that would be a delightful use of the comments section below this post!

2. The orange seller I used to buy from immediately smiled when she saw me at a distance of 10 feet away.

3. I am surprised she didn't point and laugh uncontrollably: "You're back already!"

4. To ask for another kg of oranges, I would work up the courage by thinking: Maybe I gave them away to Aunties as a part of ele-adike. Maybe I'm buying them for my Gramma whom I'll visit today. So I could be there for any number of reasons which weren't necessarily true.

5. Fact. There was a time when I did not buy any oranges, and the orange seller asked my Mom why.

6. My orange seller must be visiting her hometown. She's not been in her spot for over two weeks. After the inevitable questioning of the fairness of life, and wondering if I would ever meet a good orange seller again, I picked myself up and moved on. I did in fact meet several. Life can be rewarding if you open your heart to the possibilities. I mean if you're looking for good orange sellers.

7. It doesn't take too much time to eat a single orange.
(a) So if you think you're too busy to have one, you just might have an attitude problem.
(b) On the other hand if you decide to have an orange, you might be left feeling someone ate half of it when you weren't looking or it got over when you expected at least 5 more pieces to be there. That's when you get the import of Point 7: that it doesn't take too much time to eat an orange.

Ok, quiet.

Err...One last thing... Don't forget to mention orange prices in your locality.

Don't You Worry

2012-01-27T11:20:00.002+05:30

(right click > open in new tab > click to magnify)

Tongue Tied

2012-01-19T10:37:00.000+05:30

There was an ongoing discussion and at one time, I felt a little excitement. It was seeming like I had a plausible point of view. My response occurred in my mind with an impact similar to a single small firecracker. Its meaning instantly manifested and left a lingering feeling that I had hit upon something definite.

The moment expanded in dimension and I was suspended in the internal workings of my mind. In the tiny fractions of the moment, my expectations mounted from my storage of vocabulary. I felt like I was floating in an undefined space awaiting a signal. My vocal muscles sensed possible mechanical activity in the offing. My auditory mechanism anticipated my own voice as next input.

But it was as if all the words I used to know had packed up and left on vacation. No voice emerged from me and I was aware of my own vacant exhalation.

The moment retracted to its normal dimension and passed. Someone else spoke without missing a beat and the discussion galloped forward.

If I remembered my viewpoint, this post would have been about that.

Aunties @ Family Function

2012-01-17T13:27:00.001+05:30

O Aunties in dazzling sarees,
bejeweled and donning a smile,
gushing with affection,
enthused in all the grandeur

Ushering arriving kinsfolk,
swiftly engaging them in cheer,
forever recharging the festivity,
ensuring each partakes in the feast

Actively transporting articles,
devoutly observing the rituals,
always being dutiful,
always appearing beautiful

O Aunties in dazzling sarees,
I've one thing in common with you
Though aloof in my plain loose cottons
I'm called an Auntie, too.

Do you know the feeling?

2012-01-15T12:55:00.000+05:30

Oh, no. Clock, don't tell me it's going to be 1 o' clock.

But I'm barely done goofing off. This means I have to be productive after lunch.

A Doubting Spouse (Short Story)

2012-01-12T15:10:00.000+05:30

Kavita had had no sleep the previous night due to high fever and chills. The next afternoon she was lying on the family room sofa trying to get some shut-eye. The intermittent sounds from outside wove themselves into her dream and her dream often brought her back to wakefulness. She heard the door unlock and some voices. It was her husband and another guy he brought home for lunch. She knew there was enough in the kitchen; so she didn't bother to get up. She drifted into sleep.

When she woke again, she heard sobs from the adjoining hall. In her fatigue, she just lay there and listened to them.
"It's just that it hurts so much," said some guy. "I can't stop loving her." The sobbing grew louder. Then he swore and said, "I look so foolish."
"Nah, it's ok." That was Vivek, Kavita's husband. This heartbroken guy was in good hands. She smiled and shut her eyes. She hoped they had put away the dishes.
"When I had to let Keerti go, it broke my heart. I was devastated!"
Her eyes opened again and her sleep fled. That wasn't the other guy speaking.
"I know. I remember," said the other guy.
"True love does that to you," said Vivek.
"Owwwwww," whined the other guy.
"Sand! Pull yourself together. Consider yourself lucky to have known such a deep feeling and then for your own sake, let it go. And if nothing works, I'll lend you my sad songs collection."
"I'll go for some sad songs."
Kavita could hear them walking to the family room where they kept their CD's.
"Hi," she said. Vivek looked at her startled. He said he hadn't known she was there and asked how she was feeling. She was introduced to his old friend Sandeep. They selected some CD's and left, with her husband promising he would be back early.

Kavita had never known heartbreak. She was married to the only man she ever loved. She was surprised Vivek had not confided in her. Nor had Keerti, who was now her close friend as well- if it was the same person. After hearing what Vivek had to say to Sandeep, Kavita considered something she had never thought possible earlier. It was possible for someone to find 'true love' twice... because if anything, her husband truly loved her today.

That evening, Vivek did come home early. He had flowers for his wife. While they were talking, Kavita said, "I overheard what you said to Sandeep about Keerti."
"Oh," said Vivek. He looked embarrassed.
"Is this our Keerti?" asked Kavita.
"Yes," he said. "It was long ago and it doesn't matter now."
"You called her your 'true love'."
"I won't lie. I did love her, but that's past. Today, it's only you I love. You are my true love."
"I know," Kavita said and smiled.
"Honest!"
"I believe you," she said.

Vivek watched her take medicine and thought how much she meant to him. He felt terribly ashamed and guilty about his carelessness that afternoon. He loved only his wife. She said she knew, but how was he to believe her? After what she had overheard him say, he doubted his wife would ever be sure how he felt and this doubt was eating him up. Unfortunately, he was now a doubting spouse.

Eileen (Short Story)

2012-01-07T11:30:00.002+05:30

The sky is grey and passers by wear a gloomy expression. I embark on a walk to the newspaper stand. The chilly breeze encourages me to think I am a man still sensitive to some things. I was called insensitive on the phone yesterday when I broke up with Eileen. At least she heard from me.

***

I saw Eileen for the first time a month back, on a sunny day under clear blue skies. If the weather that day were personified, it was she, sitting beside me on the park bench. She was playing with a flower and seemed at peace with her world. I ignored her and sat brooding about my wife.

***

Three years back, there was a waitress at the coffee shop I frequented daily. She quit before I could have a conversation with her which did not involve the menu. One day, while I was at the coffee shop, the same woman was seating herself in front of me saying she had known she would find me there. We had many conversations after that; some of which did bring up the menu- but of the various restaurants we went to.

I confessed both my dreams and fears to her. She always laughed at my fears. Watching her amusement made me less afraid that they would come true. She never laughed at my dreams. I married her because the familiarity between us seemed to call for it. In the time I spent with her, I came pretty close to knowing what Love is. But it was as if she didn't intend I fully find out.

***

"Eileen," said the woman in the park as a way of introduction and offered me her hand to shake. I gave her a weak handshake and remained not facing her. She had interrupted my meditations. An image of my wife in the coffee shop came to my mind. She was behind the counter adjusting her hair. This picture was out of sequence. I had lost my flow.
"I give up," said Eileen. "You have given me too little information to guess your name."
I turned and looked at my companion on the bench. She gave me a bright smile. I had the urge to get up and walk away but instead, I told her my name. Soon, we were talking and I quit trying to escape.
"Are you single?" she asked me unhesitatingly.
"Yes," I said after some struggle. We were now walking, having discovered we were both headed the same way.
In the end, we agreed to meet again.

***

I began to like Eileen a lot. She was lighthearted and easy to talk to. I confessed my dreams and fears to her. To my surprise, she laughed at my fears. Her laughter was infectious and I felt better about my life. She never laughed at my dreams. One day, when I looked into her face, I realised what was going on and I stopped seeing her. Yesterday, I called to formally break it off.

The similarities were eerie. Eileen was everything like my wife. She had the same smile, the same way of conversing with me, even the same likes and dislikes. I could not now look at her without remembering my wife.

I reach the newspaper stand. An image of my wife comes to mind. She lay in the hospital bed in the last stage of her illness. We held hands for the last time. A year has passed since then.

I purchase a newspaper and try to return home before it rains.

A Leaf From A Blogger's Diary

2012-01-06T10:00:00.002+05:30

Since I started blogging again (29-12-2011), I have been aware of a small aspiration forming within the recesses of my mind. This aspiration of mine is to write something with long sentences. For example, in a treatise on philosophy, the author has the knack of avoiding the full stop for as long as s/he can. It can be deduced that there are fewer fullstops on a page in such a text as there would be in a normal book of the same dimensions and font size. I have observed that in order to achieve this, s/he employs the trick of expounding an idea that has something something to do with perception. That seems to work. It's not that I lack ideas about perception myself, but I would like to express something along the lines of a leaf from my diary. Perhaps I would like my writing to express and elaborate on an aspiration of mine.

Hold it! I am sure the same thought has occurred to the reader that this very post deals with an aspiration I cherish. Let me select a random sentence and take a word count to see if it fulfills the criterion.

"Hold it!"
Only two.

Let's try another one. "Only two."
Dear God. Not again.

"Dear God."

Oh, well. Maybe not.
Another post. Another time.
.
.
.
.
"Another time."
Darn it!

The End

Work Around It!

2012-01-05T10:00:00.001+05:30

Two nice songs

2012-01-03T10:00:00.006+05:30

I was reminded of this beautiful song on tv:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOD4rL1cqLw

Not to mention this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fxey_cVB3B0

A few people may jump to the conclusion that I saw the whole movie Dil Hai Tumhara on Star Gold.
I did. Wow. What a movie. Tears just kept rolling down my cheeks, man. But before you go rent it, let me quote my sister, "If you're crying for this, I'll hit you."

The Importance Of Good Tea (fiction)

2012-01-02T12:46:00.000+05:30

"Get some dam* words here. The blog needs a post."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Surely, Madam."
"Ok, Miss."
"I'm on it."
"I'll find a good w-"
"I found one! 'Compassion'."
"Compa- Do I look like the Buddha to you? I just drank a huge glass of badly made lukewarm tea. And I took the glass and I smashed it on the floor like they do in movies. Now there are pieces of glass all over the dam* floor. Do I see anybody sweeping? I don't think so! And you tell me, 'Compassion'?"
"Sorry, Ma'am."
"I'll sweep."
"Aren't you the one who made the tea?"
"Err... Yes, Ma'am."
"You're fired. You! Get a brush. Clean the floor."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"What are all of you staring at? I ordered some words, dam*it. You two, there! What are you murmuring about?"
"Ma'am.............. 'Pigeon'?"
"'Pigeon'? 'Pigeon'?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Definitely not 'Pigeon', Ma'am."
"Idiots! You're all fired. Get out. I'll write this myself.... Not you, you moron. You sweep the glass."

Brief observations and anecdotes by Indian blogger BWG

2012-01-01T11:20:00.001+05:30

This is my blog. I can write whatever I want.
Piki, Piki; Piki, Piki.
Mimi!
Mimi.

***

When I was little I didn't like chocolate. I thought it was bitter. Now I'm big and I like chocolate. But I don't like coffee. It's bitter.

***

Do you go tell a hermit,"Hope you get married and a baby within this year. All the best!" ? My aunt commited this blunder in social etiquette when talking to me.

***

Nothing like a social networking site to get better acquainted with what your distant friend's baby looks like. Also, in the light of overwhelming evidence, I conclude that you did in fact visit Manali.

***

A song used to come on TV:
"Once you fall in love in life, once you fall in love; once you fall in love in life, once you fall in love...."
The VJ said, "That's bad English. It should be, 'You fall in love once in life.' "
But I thought, "Stupid VJ. That's not bad English. Let him complete it. Like, 'Once you fall in love in life, everything appears beautiful.'" Or some such bull.
Then the song went on, "Jeevan mein jaane jaana, ek baar hi hota pyaar." This essentially means 'You fall in love once in life' like the VJ said.

***

Once you fall in love in life, once you fall in love; once you fall in love in life, once you fall in love....

Sorry. The tune must have got stuck in my head.

You know what this is about

2011-12-31T16:59:00.004+05:30

The countdown has begun. By the way, I saw a few blogs writing about the close of 2011 and the impending arrival of 2012. All well written. It's always a pleasure to read what my talented friends write. And.... oh, wait wait wait, the countdown ends. My microwave warmed idlis are ready. Mm Mmm.

Yes, as I was saying, many people are very excited about Dec 31st. It's as if they're getting married or as if their Indian divorce proceedings are finally over.

Dig this. Friends who stopped talking to me (another post) are pouring wishes of good health, happiness, dreams coming true and other joyful things on my wall. Well yes, it is a public wall. But they did not use the "Hide this from" option either. People in their rash enthusiasm are omitting the effort to ignore me.

Truth is, I am tired and beaten. 2011 was some fierce bowling on the field of life where we bat. Don't ask me what happened. But I'm worn out.

Yeah, some good things happened, too. Like- I ate a sweet orange last week.

I'm not saying I wasn't happy. Happiness is there, mercifully. And thankfully, there's a lot of love. But the hard events and also watching TV which I took up recently. have made me a little cynical. And now there's another 2011 around the corner. I'm supposed to say 'Yippee'?

Get real, all you cheery party folk. 2012 may very well bring hardship. Some people say the world is going to end- but don't count on it. He he.

***

Wishing all of you a very happy and prosperous new year 2012..May all dreams and aspirations manifest..CHEERS!!!

Ok. Here I quote my friend C.K.B. for my more orthodox readers.

He will call in the evening

2011-12-30T17:15:00.001+05:30

When her eyes met his, she betrayed her innermost feeling. She knew he noticed. But his expression did not reveal anything in response. He had always been like that with her. And now, to her question, he said- "I'll call you with the answer in the evening."

She waited anxiously for his phonecall. And finally the number that showed on her ringing phone made her leap up from her seat.
"Hello?" she said.
"Hello," said a male voice that she immediately recognised. This was the moment of truth. "Your liver function test came out normal," the lab technician said. She smiled. She finally had her answer.
.
.
.
.
The lab technician hung up quickly and cursed himself. Why couldn't he just ask her out? He had seen in her eyes that morning that she felt it too.

The Closed Chapters

2011-12-29T21:37:00.000+05:30

Arjun knew many things about the lady who stood in front of him. She knew almost nothing about him. Armed with an intuitive grasp of her needs, Arjun found the lady the right car (perhaps even the car of her dreams) and made the sale. She left the Automobile Showroom and so ended his hundredth relationship with a customer.

Arjun smiled to himself. 100 sales to date on commission and he was actually new at this job. He glanced with amusement at the other salespeople looking harried or bored. They did not get a kick out of this. His amusement turned slightly to pity.

Congratulations!
said no one.
This calls for a celebration!
said nobody.
Arjun suddenly felt the lack of company to share his joy with. He had never bonded with his colleagues. They, like his 100th customer, knew very little about him, despite knowing him longer.

Arjun had erred a few times and entered into conversations with random people. Soon the same annoying personal questions surfaced and multiplied. His discomfort had frightened him.

Where are you from? How many people in your family?
He hardly wanted to relive the childhood trauma of losing everything in the earthquake- his loved ones, his belongings, his faith. Or his long days as a servant which ended with the horror of being jailed for theft of gold when all he really stole were books.

Arjun shuddered as a small wave of recollection passed through him.

Where are you working?
"I'm just out of jail. I was working as a servant before that. Now I want a job that pays higher. You see, I educated myself well by secretly watching my master's TV and extensively studying stolen books. So I'm sure to find a good job." No- he did not say it. To the lovely lady at the bus stop, he merely said, "I'm unemployed." She had looked away.

Are you married?
His fiance and big love had married somebody else who apparently was not in jail. How could he compete with that qualification? But he did not say that to his neighbour who did not know how rude he was being. To him, Arjun just shook his head.

Since then, Arjun resolved to be a closed book. He made no friends. He stayed focused on finding employment and with his neat clothes and polished speaking skills, he had fooled a big company into taking him. Fooled? No, it was pure merit. And he built his record from there.

The evening of completing 100 sales, Arjun as usual took a bus home. He spotted one of his new neighbours but avoided her gaze. He entered his house and locked the door. He quietly cooked himself some dinner. He ate in silence. He did the dishes. He read something and lay down on the sofa. He thought about his success. And he thought....however much he may achieve in future, his day was most likely to have the same ending. He did not know if that made him happy or sad. He soon fell asleep.

Time for change

2011-11-11T16:04:00.007+05:30

Glued to the Void - IV

2011-11-10T16:40:00.000+05:30

Lan observed how his family behaved and he followed suit. There was a lot of chatter and many activities. He joined in with some effort. They treated him as one of them, never expecting his training to have moulded him differently. Lan didn't want to seem different and he acted along in spite of his training. He was thankful for having a personality now as opposed to his previous self image of being mere space. He loved these people.

----------------------------------

He saw Giva watering the plants in her garden next door. "Hello," she said with a smile. "You must be Lan. Trained by Bocun."
"Yes," Lan said.
"Wow," she said. "So you know the secret of the universe."
"I was not even allowed to accept a universe."
Lan felt sudden fear. He had spoken aloud about Bocun's methods and in fact, with a feeling of defiance.
"But why? It's there for all to see."
"It is!" he said.

Giva became Lan's friend and in the weeks that followed Lan found surprising courage and comfort to share his dilemma with her. He was outspoken about his teacher and reasoned from his own perspective. Giva understood what he was facing and easily suggested alternative thinking when he was stuck. Lan realised that she had seen him cry and get angry as well, all in connection with his breaking away from the binds of his training.

"I want to believe so much in diversity and life," he said to Giva one evening. "Especially since you are in it."

--------------------------------------

His family which never discussed his training and Giva who addressed it directly, together hauled him out of the strong beliefs that had weighed him down.

Had Bocun been wrong? Had Lan been wrong in interpreting Bocun? For Lan, these were unimportant questions since he had more wonderful answers!

Concluded

Glued to the Void - III

2011-11-09T08:36:00.000+05:30

Glued to the Void I
Glued to the Void II

He was enjoying a good dinner. His mother said, "You're very quiet. Don't you have anything to share?"
"If everything is an empty void, who is it that cognises this lovely taste?"
He did not say it. He smiled at his mother and pleaded with his eyes to be excused from the act of speech.

He was five years old when the teacher had recruited him. His parents had hesitated because of the long distance of separation from the school. Yet the teacher Bocun had a reputation of creating exalted persons from the greedy and faulty personality of an inhabitant of the world. Besides, Lan had been attracted to Bocun himself and had thrown tantrums to be taken back home from the teacher who was visiting their area.

Trained to be silent and uphold the value of stillness, Bocun's students lived on a simple diet in a secluded environment, hardly even conversing with each other.

Lan tried to answer his own question about taste and cognition with the help of the discipline he had practised in his school. There was no answer. Now at home in his flourishing town, he hardly felt at home. A question which taunted him more was why long years of the esteemed Bocun's training had left him so unprepared for life.

Petrol Bunk?

2011-11-08T20:28:00.002+05:30

Or maybe...

Link

Do you Superlikey this?

2011-10-31T21:40:00.001+05:30

My friend said something 12 hours ago.
128 likes.... 129 likes....
Come on, apple growers. You can do it.
130 likes.
Hurray.

131 likes.
Wha! Where is the respect for rounded figures anymore?
132 likes.
Be my guest, friend of friend. After all, I signed up for this.
135 likes.
I must've dozed off.

My friend though says it doesn't matter. She scorns the site. Where is the gratitude? Some people get 1 like! A friend of mine gets 1 like, hehe! 1 ! I get a little less than that. But only a little less.

Whoever you are, be grateful for the people who like your messages. It's good cheer. That's all I have to say.

Small Wonder

2011-10-29T10:50:00.001+05:30

As I strolled outdoors
The moment came
When a tree a few feet ahead
Shed a flower- that floated down
Oh so naturally!

In all the hustle and bustle
A calm flower still drops to the ground
For no reason but His playful will
Whether one sees it or not!

Glued to the Void - II

2011-10-27T19:40:00.003+05:30

Link to "Glued to the Void - I"

His thoughts ran as follows:

"There is colour. There is sound. There is a huge stretch of the sky. There are various trees. A bird glides slowly up above. There is movement. What is this world I am to see? Wherefrom is all this variety? It is huge. It is beyond my dreams or imagination. It is an unfathomable multitude.

"Nowhere. Nothing. Uniformity. Constancy. Undifferentiability. I have held these as ideals for a very long time. I fail to interpret the variety of creation. It is far from null and void. I am overwhelmed."

He sat down and closed his eyes. The quietness calmed him so that he could take his experience for granted which was necessary to pull on in the world.

You can't fool all the people all the time

2011-10-23T08:46:00.001+05:30

Glued to the Void

2011-10-22T14:00:00.000+05:30

He sat in the chair feeling it was impossible to get up. When he looked around, everything seemed to defy his belief. It was even impossible that things stayed together in one piece or that anything was within comprehension. This world was impossible.

His teacher had died and he had returned home. He had been trained to believe in the void as supreme. A void which had no movement. A mind that held no opinion. For fifteen years, he lived with the trainer moulding his thinking to revere this teaching.

Today, he had returned to his family and was unable to say a word to them. Movement, the flurry of activity was everything he had spent his childhood denying in his attempt to focus on the ideal of stillness and emptiness. The way people talked easily and moved, laughed and were playful, worked and were involved in issues that meant something to them- all this went against his core belief.

He slowly condescended to live like others, feeling in every step that he was ignoring a basic fact. The basic fact was a rigid attachment to his trainer's teaching. Even when he felt happy, he wondered where to seek for the void in this world.

It would be some time before he outgrew the training he had received. In fact, it was going to be a challenge to accept movement as an allowable possibility. It did not help that his faith had been so strong. Now his family was going to teach him to live.

Influences

2011-10-20T20:10:00.002+05:30

Manju won an award for not talking in class. What the teacher did not know was that when she thundered like a monster not to talk, Manju had trembled. Being by nature an obedient sort, he kept strict vigil over himself and made it a point not to talk in class. Now he is older and wished he hadn't earned that prize because not talking was now his painful habit.

The note

2011-10-19T21:00:00.000+05:30

She found an old note in her handbag. It was something she had written down to remember. It was just one word- JOY. But when she wrote it down, she had felt it. Joy had made her grin with glee. Joy had made her heart alive and youthful. She did not want to forget that she had felt real happiness. So she wrote it down.

She didn't throw away the note. She put it back in her bag so that she could be reminded again at a later time. It had come to this.

A lad and a thought

2011-10-18T15:50:00.000+05:30

Those people were huge and I was little. They approached me and spoke mean things. I was too timid to say anything. I wondered what it would be like to have strength and authority. When they laughed at one of their jokes ridiculing me, I felt a burning sense of hurt. At the same time, I had a thought that read, "Why bother with what happens outside you?" I was only seven but this thought was already making me aware of how I could be aloof from my experiences. These big kids, their talk, even my feelings were all outside me. Inside me, I knew a silence that didn't hurt. I took refuge in this silence and just hoped that things would change for the better.

Now I am seventy years old and I still remember my philosophy that sprouted at the age of seven and I feel proud.

Never again

2011-10-15T21:15:00.001+05:30

Walking silently, suspecting nothing

Speaking in quiet words, intending nothing

Approaching a turn, fearing nothing

Second and minute, repenting nothing.

Taking the turn, suspecting nothing

Departing that day, intending nothing

They were looking to tomorrow, fearing nothing

Smiling on yesterday, repenting nothing.

Had they suspected, would they have walked longer?

Had he known that it was to happen never again,
would he have taken her hand in his?
Had she known it was the last goodbye,
would it not have shattered the peace of that night?

Blossom

2011-10-10T21:00:00.001+05:30

There bloomed like a flower within her, a love that glorified and beautified all things and brought tears of inexplicable gentleness. Like a flame of soft light, her heart gleamed and the lightness of the feeling spread around her. She almost touched the world with the aura of softness.

About Ache

2011-10-07T11:43:00.001+05:30

When one suffers an ache
Every second of the passing time
What can one do but close one's eyes
and wait, wait, wait...
Minute after minute would pass but the clock
would not stop
The ache would not fade
In empty hope one closes one's eyes
and waits.
Only time can change the state of affairs
The clock that counts the moments of ache
Also allows its slow disappearance
Until it is fully gone.
Time is colourless and holds no taint of the past
It's we who allow our memories to cloud this taintless space
And the ticking clock reminds.

Fear

2011-10-02T13:00:00.000+05:30

She felt like she never stopped running. She was out of danger and surrounded by loved ones. Yet what she had seen was terrible and filled her with the desire to escape her own memory and mind. Her heart was still beating fast and she could not focus without a wave of fear knocking her down. With her throat going dry, she looked with widened eyes and a pale face at her close ones and yearned to feel alright. Fear slowly became an unsolicited part of her life.

Rules and Freedom

2011-09-30T19:00:00.001+05:30

Lo! I find myself free. I am flowing like a river of crystal clear water. There are no bounds. My atoms are bubbles of joy. My consciousness shines in all three dimensions. In this freedom, there is infinite choice.

Today I am not suspended in a state of freedom and unlimited joy. Today I am bound. I can be sad. I can feel sloth. I can feel unsettled.

***

There's one who follows rules out of fear. Another does not heed warning. Another wants to do what is right.

But is there something inherent in nature like its laws? (Dharma, Karma)

Everyone thinks that rules bind. A unique thought (of Patanjali et al) is What rules liberate; in the ultimate sense? The yama-niyamas (Do's and don'ts) are given as a way to freedom. What initially binds conduct, frees the soul. A candidate only has to get a taste of this sweet freedom. And Lo!

Poet

2011-09-22T13:50:00.001+05:30

What is 'today' but a sea of waves?
Each man moving and swayed by the moment's say
And when such a passing grows quiet and still
A man will glimpse within and learn
The story of love that he had spent all his life to weave
In a moment, the meaning grows clear-
The meaning of Love is felt in his heart
Overwhelmed by its peace,
By its bliss that is giving and wants not
He tries to write a poem,
To make a bouquet of words,
And if you are to receive it,
Know what a grand gift he gives,

if he gives that love to you!

***************************************

Am I saying I am that poet and this is that poem? No, no. I am talking of some good poems that are inspired by pure sentiments. Again, an output of 2009.

What a dream!

2011-09-20T12:01:00.001+05:30

(I wrote the following on Aug 1, 2009)

Strangely, I remember last night's dream. Here it is:

A mysterious woman who is beautiful in a wicked-eyebrows sort of way writes a letter to Robert Langdon* saying that everybody who read a particular code was dying. She has the code attached to the letter and asks him to decipher it. It starts with something like REDI... Langdon realises that if he read it, he would perish himself. Also, the letter though written in a complicated tongue has obvious strains that imply that she was romantically interested in Langdon.

In the meanwhile, there's a very beautiful lake that circles a hill. A landslide is taking place and everybody is running to get to safety. Some are having fun sliding on the falling rocks and gravel. Whee!

Suddenly, there appears a church where bearded men are discussing how to read a holy book. That's when Langdon sitting in the last pew realises what the code means. It just translates to something simple like read this passage from the right and that from the left and there was no inherent harm that could come from it. He also affirms that the chest pain he had was a small side effect of the cough medicine he was taking. He also points out in his wisdom that nobody had actually died reading the code. And indeed, they are all alive.

In the final scene, the mysterious woman thanks Langdon and says, "I am extremely sorry to hurt your feelings, but I am not really interested in you as the letter said." Suddenly, Robert Langdon is not Robert Langdon any more. He is clearly Bertram Wooster**. Seated at a large dining table, he replies with a casual shrug, "That's ok. Next time."

* The hero of The Da Vinci Code- Dan Brown
** Of Jeeves and Wooster- PG Wodehouse

Question

2011-09-17T13:00:00.000+05:30

It flaps its wings from an unknown nest

And upon your shoulder comes to rest

It whispers a question in your ear

That makes you look again from near

At something that had skipped your mind

Can you a soothing answer find?

Shoo! You questioner! Depart!

Don't you dare shake up my heart.

I had an answer yesterday-

That had made all things quite Okay.

Wherefrom did this question come

To unsettle and be almost quarrelsome!

A pointless incident

2011-09-12T16:00:00.000+05:30

It was a lazy summer afternoon of many years ago. My cousin sister(1) and I lay on a chaape(2) in the hall. Both of us were awake. We were staring at the wall, the ceiling and other things in the room. Neither of us felt the need to speak. We both knew we were in the same state of awareness.

I studied the chaape for some time before I realised that there was a peculiar feature that repeated itself at another point on the chaape. After some more of the afternoon elapsed, I said to my cousin, "Allu ide thara ide alva?"(3) She must have noticed, too, in all that time, for she readily said, "Hoon!"(4) That was our first communication.

At that point, we both realised how idle we had been for the past hour. Then we burst out laughing.

One of the strange things you remember. :)

1-Yes, there is such a thing as 'cousin sister.'

2- straw mat

3- "Even there, it's the same, isn't it?"

4- "Yes!"

Rusty Max

2011-09-07T12:15:00.001+05:30

In first grade, I was great at the eight plus fives. Thirteen, I would say without batting an eyelid. I would get my star and smiley. As I think back, I notice that the utter bafflement and loss for words did not always accompany an arithmetic problem. It has come out of neglect in the recent years.

Today when I look at the figure “8” for example, it looks like a doodle. Its name sounds funny. (Why would anything be called ‘eight’? Lol.) And it feels more like a word than a number:
“Eight elephants.”
“What’s five more?”
“Eight elephants, five elephants.”
Like grey elephants, Indian elephants, baby elephants. The concept of operating on it is in complacent slumber.

I haven’t sat down to add numbers in years, let alone subtract them. (We know that while addition can be approached and befriended if the weather is fine, subtraction is rather of the secretive sort, often almost conceited.)

I am careful not to bring up multiplication and division in conversations. I may be required to do a calculation! Why, I might even carry around an orange sponge ball, ready to plug it on my nose, throw my arms open, grin and yell, “Kidding!” if I gave a wrong answer- just to save face.

Such is the sorrowful state of things.
--------

('Max' is 'Maths'. eg: Max alli eshtu bantho?)

Remembering - 5

2011-09-02T11:01:00.005+05:30

I closed my eyes. The music went on. Memories came up in my mind. I had been happy, a good son, a devotee. I breathed deeply, giving in to relief. Some time might have passed. I felt someone tugging at my arm. I opened my eyes and saw people were standing- no dancing. The song was very lively. Mukund was smiling at me. Boy, was he glad to see me. I smiled back. I felt strange. This was all new to me. No, on the contrary. It was very very old. I used to run home and share the prasad with my mother. I loved my mother. There was a lump in my throat.

Kumar saw me and his face grew brighter with a smile. I guess he was more handsome than me, with his warm and friendly face. Now, that was something. He made a motion of swinging a cricket bat and while raising his hands to a six, he continued in a dance. He came to me and patted me on my shoulder. How could he recognise me after all these years?

My thoughts kept going to my parents. I felt ashamed that I had to come so far to recognise a feeling that they gave me everyday at home. Their love that only asked for my happiness- that was divine. What could I give them in return?

There was Arati. I watched silently. My parents came to mind. I wish I had joined them in worship everyday of my life. Things would have been different. I made up my mind I was going to take home something nice. I, Kumar and no alias, was returning home.

Concluded

Remembering - 4

2011-09-01T11:17:00.001+05:30

I could here music even as I parked my vehicle outside. There was a fragrance of incence sticks that greeted me as I entered the house. I felt as though I was compromising on my identity to go in there. But I did.

There was a small party singing bhajans and everybody seated was repeating after them. I have to admit, it was a catchy tune. I tried to go along with the beat and I bobbed my head. I sat down trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible, while searching for faces I knew. I saw Anil. Anil and I had rivalled in mathematics. The books of Math problems we read were not recommended for people below 13. We got our rush from intellectual gymnastics. I felt guilty for doing so badly in later years. I recalled the joyful faces of my parents when I had graduated.

Shivu, the fatso! He hadn't lost any weight. How would he when his father owned the best bakery in town?

Oh, wait, there was Soumya! She did look happy- How? I watched her. She had a nice face. She was humble. She spoke kind words. She had a neat handwriting. She was so wise. Had she really loved me?

Then I caught sight of Nimmi. The music was registering somewhere in my mind because I was still moving to its rhythm. Nimmi, oh Nimmi. I used to praise Nimmi to make Soumya jealous. Nimmi always had a smart retort. She hated men, didn't she? I let out a small laugh.

I looked at Sowmya again. She was singing so happily. But then, they all were.

Sudha Aunty was sitting there, too, smiling and devoutly repeating the names of the diety. Wow! She looked really beautiful. Opposite to her, there was a gentleman in a white Kurta. His smile was infectious. That was Uncle! I forget his name. He had a good spin, with which he got us out. Kumar Uncle! Of course, he had the same name as I.

Then there was a nice marble idol at the front, decorated with flowers. A lamp was lit beside it. I grew silent. It was a long time since I was face to face with God.

Remembering - 3

2011-08-31T13:00:00.001+05:30

That evening, I celebrated alone. I sat quietly in my room. My parents entered with a bouquet and great smiles. They were happy. Good, I thought. My brother also entered my room and gave me a gift. He patted my shoulder and left. It was a nice feeling to be alone. My phone was off and I "was not at home" to those who tried to find me otherwise.

I thought about Mukund. He would be having fun. I imagined my old friends- their harmless teasing, their free laughter, their love and I started smiling to myself. A part of me remembered what that felt like. Yet, I had moved too far away to approach it again.

I slept early.

The next morning, I woke up with a feeling of emptiness. This lasted the whole week. Thoughts came to me of the ten friends who were instrumental in shaping the last four years of my life. In a vague feeling of tiredness, I called someone who was not a part of it.

"Oh, great that you called me, today," said Mukund. "Today is a beautiful day- it's Friday. You remember Sudha Aunty? The third house from mine? Everyone will be there! Why don't you come!? 6:30."

What was he talking about? Was it the Aunty's birthday? On Fridays?

"Okay," I said and hung up as quickly as I could, as if I had done something dangerous.

I went that evening. That's where my story begins- again.

Remembering - 2

2011-08-30T10:38:00.000+05:30

So there I was thus sitting on a wall in my college when I saw Mukund. Why was he walking up to me like a lamb?

"Hi, Kumar," he said, making me cringe at the mention of my name. We had our radical nicknames to go by, of which he was stupidly unaware. Or did he know and yet choose to acknowledge my genuine presence? Now that made me connect with something inside me and I was glad none of the others were around.

"Hi," said I."Are you alright?" he observed from behind his glasses.

How could he know if I was upset? I looked great in the mirror this morning. Perhaps it was the fact that I was sitting here alone when everybody else was inside.

"I feel fine," I said. "How are you?"

That person whom I have known since childhood nodded as an answer. Of course, he was fine. He had nothing to complicate his life.

"All our school friends are meeting in my house today. Would you like to come?"

Was he really asking me?

"I'm busy," I said. And added, "Sorry" after a second.

"Okay. Nice to talk to you again, Kumar. Soumya was asking about you."

I smiled. Few find it possible to forget my charm.

"Oh? How is she?" I asked.

"She's very happy. She's engaged."

I must have looked stupid in my surprise, for I could feel the pride escape my facial set up.

"Okay, then. I'll be off," he said and retreated to our graduation ceremony.

Remembering -1

2011-08-29T20:05:00.002+05:30

I was miserable.

I had lost my friends since school, and gained new friends in college. It was a change that altered my feeling about life. The ones I lost were of innocent hearts. The new ones were driven solely by thrill. Pretty soon, I had insulted old friendship in words, neglected ties that were of sound goodwill and given into the unwise inclinations of the new group of which I was a member. I showed promise, according to them. And to my current state of dismay, I fulfilled that promise exceptionally well.

Now in introspection, I lost the untainted joy I once had. I had ignored my academic aptitude, hurt the girl who loved me, and turned away that girl who tied a rakhi to me every year. It did not suit my new personality to be soft and mellow. Even if you were prepared to overlook all these faults, I broke the rules of my house and created a definite air of strain in the abode that once rang with laughter and love.

The territory which I was now in reveled in excitement and flaunted enjoyment. You want the truth? I was miserable.

What's new? Ok, tell me - What's old?

2011-08-29T19:59:00.003+05:30

I don't have anything new to post. But I've saved a lot of drafts from I don't know when. Let me publish them one by one. Coming up first is a story in 5 small parts called 'Remembering'.

The way it shouldn't be

2011-08-04T13:00:00.000+05:30

And then...the shadows rose menacingly, defying the unassuming light. They caught the man mocking him in their newfound might. The man struggled to move out of the darkness, pleading for the light to win over the shadow. Thus he struggled for days on end. Hope accompanied every sunrise, that the light shall prevail. But he was entangled in the dark web for an unknown reason, if a reason there was. One day, the poor man's good fortune it was, when the light with purpose killed the demon lurking in the shadows and the man was set free. Shadows were rendered dumb and lame, and they fell down with no noise. Light ruled again. A prayer of thanks accompanied every sunrise and sunset.

A dip in a lake which was not water

2011-08-03T11:12:00.010+05:30

She was walking in the temple when she fell into the space of her own heart. It was as if there was a still lake within. Soon her whole self was immersed in the substance of the lake which was not of matter- but was of the essence of PURITY. Everything fell silent. Even through the sights and sounds outside, there was a stillness which was underlying them. Pureness was flooding the area. She took a dip in this lake of not water but purity and subtle glee. It was an unruffled medium of joy. A few moments later, she was above the ground again and back to the mundane world. What was within was undeniable. It was pure, strong, fearless, and full of self respect. She was amazed.

My Faith (Short Story)

2011-07-28T11:14:00.000+05:30

It has been a year since I stopped going to the temple.

When I was a child, I went regularly with my parents. It held many attractions for the children who came there. They swung on the rails in front of the deity. They circled around the sanctum, leaning their right hand on the wall and bouncing off from it at every step. They closed their eyes and waited for the priest to place the holy crown on their head before uttering their most important wish. They relished the warmth of the holy flame and the taste of holy water. I just held my parents’ hands and smiled.

When I was a teenager, it was a long drive to the temple. It presented an occasion to share my joys, hopes and frustrations with my parents at length. My trust and their empathy went unquestioned. Whenever we reached the temple, I felt a beautiful assurance that my sentiments had been heard.

When I was in college, my parents accompanied me to the temple whenever I wanted to go. Music and academics occupied my life and I wanted to secure this passion with faith. I always felt I was receiving unconditional love and support.

When I graduated, I was top of my class. It was my father who pushed my wheelchair to the podium. I received my certificate and waved at my mother. That evening, they asked if I would like to go to offer worship to the deity. I had made up my mind. I told them I did not intend to ever go again. They did not object at all but were supportive of my right to decide. By the time they helped me into my bed that night, as they had every night of my life, I knew who my gods are.

Three

2011-07-22T15:36:00.004+05:30

"How many words can you make from the letters of the word-"
Maya could not finish the sentence because she sighted a snake and her speaking energy was used for a short scream. Whose idea was it to have classes in the great outdoors?

Deepak frantically dialled Maya's number. He wanted to warn her that there were snakes in that area in which she was put to teach. His friend Mohan had been camping there.

Mohan wanted to congratulate Deepak on his recent engagement to Maya. He wrote an email but the computer had slowed down. Each second he stared at the screen waiting for the mail to be sent, he was aware of how unfair life was that Maya could not be his.

Maya guided the children inside the cabin and blamed Mohan in her mind for not warning her. She knew from Deepak that he had been camping there. Luckily the snake receded into the distant grass.

Deepak heard Maya's voice on the phone and hastily issued the warning. Maya said they would return by their bus quickly. Deepak thanked Mohan in his mind.

Mohan's email was about to be sent but he hit cancel. He did not feel elated and he did not want to convey a false feeling. First he would find himself a girl and when he was over the fact of Maya's engagement, he would heartily throw rice at them.

Deepak received an email from Mohan. It congratulated him on his engagement. Maybe he had only been imagining that there had been something between Mohan and his fiance.

Maya retuned home and called Mohan. She told him about the snake. Mohan felt his heart ache when he heard her voice. She asked him why he had not attened the engagement ceremony. He said, "You know why. If you don't, make a clever guess and you'll be right."

Mohan's computer indicated a new email from Deepak. It was just a thank you. Mohan shut down his computer and left his office.

Deepak shut down his computer and left his office.

Maya thought sadly about Mohan and happily about Deepak. She switched on her computer and blogged about the snake. Thus ended the day.

A Dreamer Hit

2011-07-07T12:47:00.004+05:30

Nothing began. Something ended. He hung his heart on a fantasy and it floated like a cloud. Crashing against the mountain of fate, it brought down showers- tears of disillusionment. He questioned everything. What did his life mean? Did he dare to dream again?

At this point, it was the next thing to turn into a coward or a cynic. But something from the crevices of broken hope revealed a deeper existence. At the source of pain was a witness that confirmed, that knew and that agreed. Beyond the halted laughter, beyond the sense of betrayal, beyond the slap in the face- there was a deeper understanding that survived it all. Who knows the name of this witness who is the unity behind a shattered dream? Touching this level, was reaching above and beyond the skies that emotions paint.

At this point, the next thing was to turn into a coward or a cynic. But there was a third option. To remain a humble heir to the emptiness. Little did he know that the sun would rise for him again.

A Card

2011-07-05T10:59:00.004+05:30

We are just like this apart.

Feedback Loop

2011-05-28T12:45:00.001+05:30

"Hi. You said you wanted to talk to me?"
"Yeah, generally you know. Nothing specific. As in talking.... is what I felt like doing. To you in particular, but about nothing in particular. It was a pleasant prospect."
"Ok. So what do you want to talk about?"
"Actually, talking to you in particular being a pleasant prospect, itself hints at what I would like to convey. Not that there is anything specific that I want to say, but you know, there is something I want to convey."
"Uh huh. What do you want to convey?"
"Well, it's not like a fact or anything. I mean, of course it's true. But it's quite unlike the chronology of kings' reigns in history. I mean, do you like history?"
"It's alright."
"It's alright, ok. Well, see there's a reason talking to you is a pleasant prospect. Well, I'm sure anyone who has spoken with you would say that. But I know it differently."
"Why?"
"Why? Well that's a vague question. I don't know what to say in regard to why it's different for me. Me, in particular... With you, in particular. But I think I've already made myself clear. Don't you?"
"Are you trying to say you fancy me?"
"Oh! You said that! Not like that. Not right away. Though it's been awfully long. I mean not really. Well, I did say it was true. Hmm, you've put me in a tough spot."
"You want to start again?"
"Oh, no. No, no, no.... We've made tremendous progress."
"Does that mean we've succeeded? Have I succeeded in understanding what you want to say?"
"If you have, suppose you have, how do you feel about it?"
"I'm sorry. I just don't feel the same way."
"Right. You have completely misunderstood what I wanted to say."
"Oh?"
"I don't know how to say this, because I'm not good at asking for favours. But can I borrow your history notes?"
"To look up chronology of kings' reigns?"
"He he. Um, yeah."

Flowershop Cynic

2011-05-25T07:30:00.000+05:30

I stand with indifference
among a hundred colourful flowers,
while here comes another likely fool..
He asks for a dozen red roses.
I take a rose in my hand.

Its touch mildly awakens a pain that its soft petals or sweet fragrance
cannot forever soothe.
The man picks up the bouquet with a silly smile.
It earns him my smirk
and earns me my bread.
He pays and leaves.
I pocket my wage
And stand with indifference
among a hundred colourful flowers.

Results out

2011-05-20T08:19:00.007+05:30

(Click on pic for better view)

Link

How the movie at the theatre ends- have you noticed?

2011-05-17T17:50:00.001+05:30

(This is an old post that was saved as draft.)

Everyone's sitting and liking the movie. Yay! Then the final scene nears and on cue, the important people get up and start moving. Their schedule doesn't permit them to stay for the ending.

Objection- they've been nowhere else for the past three hours. Overruled- they have 5 minutes less to spare than you, Counsel for the Guileless.

So the movie isn't over. These folks are edging their way out. Their time is precious. Ideally, they would make a beeline for the exit. But now and then, they have to look at the screen because the idiot next to them is slow. They're embarrassed they may appear like they're interested.

At one point, the honest chap has to stand. People are now adding momentum. One step. Face right. Two steps. Look ahead. Pause. Face right. Move. Presently, the movie comes to a finish and he prances out with the rest of them.

Drawing (writing) a blank

2011-05-10T20:07:00.003+05:30

Ta-Da!

2011-05-07T13:08:00.002+05:30

"Pray tell us! What indeed is the squiggle thus drawn, O BWG?" is the chorus I am expecting after I post this piece and after you catch sight of it and perhaps put on your archaic helmet.

Within the territory of my blog and extending to anyone who is ready to adopt symbols suggested by random bloggers, it is a symbol for the absence of creativity. Why? Because I drew it having nothing else to put up on Blue White Gold. Had I seen it a few years back, I would pounce on the opportunity to use my imagination and give different interpretations to the mark. But now that I am retired from thinking, I don't know what to do about it.

It could also be the symbol for resuming an activity well neglected such as blogging. A few kind people have been asking me to resume blogging. I hope they are happy to see the squiggle above.

Sample Cecil

2010-11-24T12:04:00.004+05:30

I read Henry Cecil's "Unlawful Occasions." Cecil writes on law with humour. The situations in the book are flippant and unrealistic. There are many paragraphs of logical analysis of petty ideas. It is not clear while reading who the protagonist is. Only the ending wraps everything up nicely.

Guzaarish Q n A:

2010-11-23T15:04:00.001+05:30

Why is Ethan in a huge house?
A. Because Nurse Sophia must keep walking.

Why is Nurse Sophia's make up bad?
A. It gives Ethan a question to occupy himself with.

Who does the young wannabe magician Omar talk to on his mobile?
A. This is a rhetorical question. Only to show that the mobile signal reaches Ethan's house.

What are the professions you see?
A. Nurse, magician, doctor, lawyer, priest, maid.

What is a profession you don't see?
A. Barber.

"Far Eastern Tales" by W. Somerset Maugham: What I thought

2010-11-20T19:34:00.001+05:30

Having read novels where the pace is quick and suspense is kept up, reading this book made it an effort to stay seated. The impulse to put it away and move onto things which showed obvious movement arose now and then. I finished reading the book since I had it. George Orwell, another famous name, says he was much influenced by Maugham. That testimonial went a long way in soothing the reader to continue.

Characters are usually married for a long period of time. He sketches the portrait of every character without much demonstrating it in the character's actions or statements but rather by their description. Despite there being an element of revelation in the ending, the predictability is high and the surprise is low. The stories that did make an impression did so only after a lengthy preamble.

Spiral Diary

2010-09-22T22:13:00.003+05:30

A test of your curiosity

2010-09-02T18:37:00.001+05:30

A week into a coronation - Short Story

People witnessed my ascent to the throne last week. They saw the same thing as I did just now. I walked up to the throne and occupied it. I appeared majestic, glorious and the picture of confidence. These are qualities the beholders bestowed on the sight of a young boy taking the place of their king. What I witnessed of myself was quite different.

I hid my nervousness. I bore a stoic countenance. I enacted the scene according to expectations. But the majesty they saw lay in their eyes alone. I did not feel like a king.

I was ready to take any advice from my father’s ministers. I let their opinion rule. After all, I wasn’t even a week old as the king. I was conscious of the ladies looking at me with maternal affection cloaked behind a veil of awe. I was conscious of girls talking about me behind smiles and giggles. The whole time, I was a mute observer. The king who came to the courtroom everyday was a guise. The person wearing the guise was neither king nor subject. It was a boy who was careful to be without opinion. An opinion takes a side. It qualifies a person; gives a man a bias which sculpts his identity. I was not ready to have an opinion. I wanted to start from a place that was as open as a newborn’s consciousness.

But something happened yesterday. I disagreed with the council’s decision. I did not express it then but last night, I formed a belief that was entirely mine. Girls must be educated. When the thought occurred, it came in the garb of a child’s imagination. It lacked the promise of practicality. My diminutive age, my lack of experience, and the over all gigantic nature of the position I was placed in built a feeling around me that seemed to preclude my initiating any action myself.

But I slowly considered the facts. I was the lawmaker of the land. It was my kingdom and it had to bear my caring touch. If I did not assert my personal beliefs on what is good for the kingdom, it would not be my rule at all. Decades later, when the responsibility of the rule is credited to someone, it would be me either way. I am not free of opinion. This is a world with qualities, not without. I have a discerning mind. I have the good of the people at heart. I can have a vision. If it creates a definite and distinct identity, let it be known as such.

Today, when I walked to my throne, it was a king walking. A king backed by a purpose. The issue at hand was only the beginning. What I was feeling within was majesty, glory and confidence. It is a funny matter in this human world that appearance can be deceptive. Today, I saw what the court had been witnessing for a week.

3 Drawings Regarding Science

2010-08-23T18:22:00.004+05:30

With all due love and respect to the greats!

Lost, Gone

2010-08-21T19:09:00.004+05:30

In the village roads, there walked a boy
Seeming simple in dress and style
Quiet in manners, quiet in joy
Often brightening with a smile.

Sound and sights, events that transpired
He would absorb without a word
And his mind would be inspired
With a picture by what he saw or heard.

He would then sit down to draw
Boys and girls would gather 'round
A few lines and marks that start out raw
Would grow and in brilliance abound.

But no sketch remained at a new one's start
There was no history kept in stock
'Cause all he had to store his art
Was with what he drew- a slate and chalk.

3 Notes on Technology

2010-08-07T08:41:00.002+05:30

Someone buys a PC and notices that the font printed on the keyboard isn't matching the font of characters on the screen and wonders if he should exchange the keyboard...

Regarding that device they run over your handbag at the entrance. They let you through even though it beeps. Therefore I figure it must merely be a bag detector. Like- What's that on your shoulder? Bzzzz...Beep. Oh, ok. It's a bag. You can pass.

You ought to switch off your phone in the library. This is saying if you want to ask the librarian something, you can't call him. You have to walk up to him.

If I liked you a little less

2010-08-04T16:41:00.003+05:30

If I liked you a little less,
I would send you flowers
I would call you at sunrise
I would text you good night
I would invite you to lunch
I would write you long letters
I would listen to you for hours
I would mail you surprise presents
...if I liked you a little less.
But I like you a little more.
So here I am on one knee-

If I liked you a little less,
I would be waiting to hear the question!
But I like you a little more,
So YES!

Fe

2010-08-02T10:43:00.002+05:30

Link

An Afternoon Out

2010-03-02T17:28:00.001+05:30

Kanthan and Malini were in their fifties. They had not kept in touch with friends and did not interact with relatives except on occasions. They had got used to the quiet in their lives.

Kanthan worked at a bank. His conversations opened with a smile but were restricted to work related information. Small talk to him meant telling the bus conductor where he wanted to go. If Kanthan had had children, he would have wondered what to do when they started to speak.

Malini worked in a school as an office administrator. It was plain to see her popularity with children and not many people believed her when she said she was thankful not to have any. It was one thing to smile and wave at a kid outside the office window but living with one took more tolerance than needed for waving.

One afternoon, Kanthan and Malini decided to go to a movie. They arrived early at the mall and bought tickets. They dined in silence. Malini wondered what it would be like if somebody talked with her. It was so long since she remembered a time out with lots of chatter and laughter. Kanthan absentmindedly glanced at people and returned to judging how his meal had been made. He cooked better. The movie was going to start in half an hour.

The two strolled in the mall glancing at people much younger than them. Malini for a second wondered if she was even allowed there without tight jeans and Kanthan wondered about that section of the world that felt the need for so many commodities in a life.

They took their seats in E 7 and 8. It was a silly movie. One that would make one regret having made the effort to watch it, if one’s expectation of an outing was more than technically- going outside.

It was not strange to either Kanthan or Malini to watch a movie alone. It was their choice to live a life of solitude and they did not regret it. When the stupid movie ended, they got up and went their separate ways, never having met or said a word to each other.

I was thinking about cats...

2010-02-19T13:11:00.002+05:30

*Curiosity killed the cat.
Curiosity is an abstract noun.
So there were no eye witnesses.

*A cat has nine lives. When it dies, it comes back as the same cat. It’s the cycle of birth and death.

*A cat has nine lives. Nine. It almost made it.

*A cat has nine lives. Crossing the street is actually a game.

*A cat has nine lives. There’s one particular mouse it’s trying to catch.

*"It’s bad luck if a cat crosses your path." Not unless the cat in question is a hungry tiger.

Living life Ant size

2010-02-12T17:00:00.000+05:30

Link

GM food ok to consume? Sleep on issue.

2010-02-11T15:31:00.005+05:30

Link

Global warming

2010-02-08T13:30:00.004+05:30

(Click for better pic.)

Link

Something good on TV

2010-02-02T13:39:00.000+05:30

(Click to enlarge.)

A matter of focus

2010-01-21T15:30:00.000+05:30

Could it get any worse?

2010-01-18T15:45:00.002+05:30

(right click > open in new tab)

Three notes on weather

2010-01-14T19:15:00.000+05:30

*So one day you recite “Rain, rain, go away! Come again another day,” and nothing happens. On further enquiry, you learn that weather management was not part of the curriculum after all.

*There’s a chance you're being ignored if someone says- “Can I call you back? I’m identifying cloud shapes.”

*I can’t help feeling there is something fishy about this ad- “Somewhere over the rainbow, I misplaced a pot of gold. If found, please return to this address…”

The Year Clock

2010-01-12T11:54:00.000+05:30

Why hasn’t this been created yet?

The dial in (1) gives a pictorial idea of how much of the year has elapsed. The dial in (2) has more than one hand. The blue line is for the current date. The red and green lines are important dates like a deadline, event, birthday or anniversary.

The dial can be a work of craft in plastic or cardboard and manually operated. Or it can be a computer application that is updated with the date. Clicking on the needle will display the date and caption. The caption can be edited.
There could be more hands, attachable and detachable.

The year label can be edited in a manual clock like an odometer and gets updated in a computer app.

The Joys of the Bespectacled

2010-01-09T11:12:00.001+05:30

Here’s how an eye test works. There’s a chart behind you and it comes up in a mirror on the opposite wall. You steal a swift glance behind but it’s inverted. You look front, and it’s indecipherable. You anxiously come to realise that you’re cornered. Then you notice how comfortable your big chair is.

You sit there for a while and chat with the technician. It’s always D H L E N and C T PA L O.

Initially, they fit you with extremely weird black frames and perhaps snicker. Then they give you choices between lenses- ‘this one or this one?’- and you’re not allowed to say 'neither'. Finally you settle and grin, looking like a happy alien.

The opthamologist says it takes 1-3 weeks to get adjusted to a new pair of glasses. So I wear it and wait a week till people are adjusted to my face.

Thus life settles down with your spectacles. Sometimes, you have interesting experiences.

This morning when I was in the kitchen, it felt like I was making tea. When the steam cleared from my glasses, I saw I had.

Sometimes when I try to nudge my spectacles frame up, it’s not there. For example, when I wear contacts… or in my sleep.

According to my calculation, the average bespectacled person spends 12.16 hours a year looking for his spectacles.

When you just get glasses, people tend to say, “Oh-ho! Very brainy!” You enjoy the compliment earned by not reading the smaller letters.

The joys of the bespectacled are myriad.

The musing of a boy and his friend

2010-01-04T10:42:00.000+05:30

To dance to music
To skip across the field
To run into the breeze
To jump and touch a branch
To wade through the waters
To tiptoe in the night
To crouch and pluck a flower
To race up the stairway
To hop onto a footpath
To kick a football
To walk, to stand…
How might it be-
thought the boy.

To laugh with so much joy
To relish a simple dish
To sing with all his heart
To love and care for all
To eagerly gather knowledge
To never lose his patience
How does he do it-
thought his friend
as he helped him into his chair.

This post is dedicated to N, an intelligent and cheerful boy I know with truly admirable virtues. He is in the 6th standard and hopes to walk. His attitude is an inspiration to all who know him.

Some thoughts at the close of 2009

2009-12-30T15:15:00.002+05:30

* First a new millenium. Now a new decade... Just how old AM I?

* As we put away memories, sweet and sour, and look forward to a new beginning, we all realise it's that time of the year again- time to divide 2010 by 4 to find out if we're having a leap year.

* Wake up early.
Stick to the diet.
Think positive.
Read more.
- Things To Do In The First Week Of January.

* It's the new decade. Just think: Space travel, time machines, intelligent robots, cloning for transplantation- these are going to be in 3D movies now!

* October 10th next year, kids all over the world are going to get excited about the date. I could tell them now... but heck, I'm a good sport.

* It's high time! I sincerely request you to conserve electricity, save water, discourage polythene bags, donate surplus food, keep the environment tidy, pool your vehicle and read my blog... err, but seriously, think about the rest!

Have a happy new year!

3 pm vs 6 pm

2009-12-27T15:26:00.000+05:30

2009-12-25T16:04:00.008+05:30

It's been a while since I came here. I almost feel I have to raise my hand to speak. I noticed traffic on my blog- which is more like one car. But enough to make me want to blog again.

A lot's been happening. I can't find time to do everything I want to do. I got a present which is a book on 'time management' that I'm sure will help, if only I can schedule some time to push the bookmark.

Speaking of what's been happening, yesterday was the fourth ODI in a five match series between India and Sri Lanka. Gambhir and Kohli notched up centuries- a maiden one for Kohli, and they together put up a third wicket partnership of 224 runs (214 deliveries). The idea of victory began to take concrete shape in the backdrop of Eden Gardens, Kolkata, as you watched them bat. Gambhir elegantly came through for India in what turned out to be a 7-wicket win for them. And this was sans Yuvi and Dhoni, too, with Sachin and Sehwag dismissed by the end of the first four overs. At the end of the match, an illiterate could spell 'delight'.

Oh, I am watching cricket now, by the way. :)

What's new from you?

An Observation on Grammar

2009-10-27T14:44:00.001+05:30

The grammar in which a sentence is constructed evokes a particular understanding, about the time and tense for example. The selective placement of a verb or a phrase gives a meaning regarding what is intended to be conveyed. A rearrangement of words, while preserving grammatical correctness, may not preserve their original meaning.

So, every meaningful sentence constructed may be said to have risen from a thought, and if understood, a communication of meaning has taken place. The brain is capable of a miriad of concepts and expressions of these ideas. Hence the correspodingly vast potentiality of grammar.

Along similar lines of thought, learning a new language not only means adjusting to the rules in speaking it correctly, but getting accustomed to ideas that belong to the people who speak the language. Aren't the humour, the style of questioning, the perception of things, events and life of the populace ingrained in the grammatical constructions of their language?

It is also appreciated that the accentuation of sounds adds a distinct flavour to a spoken utterance, and can also yield different meanings for the same sentence.

Something such as a wrong placement of a comma in written form, or the use or omission of an article, which may although result in an acceptable sentence, can alter the meaning intended to be conveyed, and thus mislead the reader or listener. Here, it is acknowledged that it is a skill to pick out the puport despite a clumsy expression in written or spoken form, for a person much accustomed to the proper use of grammar and syntax, may have the tendency to easily miss the meaning, and grasp a scenario as something else.

The above is my small observation on grammar. Have you also thoughts on the subject?

Rhyme and Reason

2009-10-23T13:28:00.003+05:30

Professor Mudakar was drinking his cup of coffee when there was a knock on his door. The HOD of Mathematics said, "Come in."
Ravi walked in and slumped into the chair in front of his desk and buried his face in his palms.
Mudakar said, "And good morning, Sir to you, too."
"Sir, I need you help,” Ravi said with desperation. “I'm writing a letter to Sudha and it's not turning out romantic."
Mudakar looked at the ashen face of Ravi.
"Well, I could suggest some partial differential equations to insert, if you like," he said with a grin.
"Sir, I tried all day yesterday and I came up with two lines. You are so good at clearing doubts, Sir. Can you go over this?"
Ravi handed Mudakar a flimsy piece of paper with an even worse handwriting. It read:
Dear Sudha,
I'm sorry my cat bit your finger.
Ravi.
"And I thought your math needed help," murmured Mudakar.
"Huh?" said Ravi.
"Is this true?" asked the master, waving the piece of paper.
"Oh, absolutely, Sir. We were at my house. I served tea. Sudha was admiring the brand when there came my cat and sat down beside her."
"And frightened Miss Muffet away?"
"Huh?"
"Hmm."
"Then Sudha wanted to pat the cat, but it bit her finger."
"Which finger did it bite?"
"The little finger."
"On her right?"
"Huh?"
"This is Sudha, Professor Narayan's daughter?"
"Yes," said Ravi, seeing the master for the first time as part of the other territory.
"Her math scores are good," the Professor observed.
"But Sir, can you help me?" said Ravi fidgeting in his chair. He was beginning to fear that his teacher would not approve of the match. Where smartness was concerned, she was better liked by the Profs. But it was he, not she, who had won the slow-cycle race.
“Why do you need a letter, Ravi? Perhaps you are better at communicating in person.”
“I couldn’t approach her at all, Sir. I feel really bad about the cat.”
“Professor Narayan would like your cat,” said the HOD smiling with secret mischief.
“Why, Sir?” asked Ravi with surprise.
“Ravi, I’m sorry. I cannot help you with the letter. I only write professional email,” said the Professor, standing up.
“Sir, what shall I do?”
“Focus on your math. Maybe she will see your improved score and forgive your cat,” he said and added on afterthought, “Hmm, one speaks odd sentences in this profession.”
The HOD glanced at his watch and left the room with a book in his hand, but only after giving a gracious smile to his student.

More on my blogging

2009-10-20T20:22:00.016+05:30

Reference.

I wrote a blog post called "What". But I'm not publishing that today. Instead, I started a post on something along the lines of insecurities or flaws and thought to tell it in a way. At the same time, I was chatting with a friend. So I posted what I was blogging in the chat window.

It went like this:

Hey. I'm a hippopotamus. I'm quite happy with myself, except for my ears. They look like human ears. That's quite unfortunate because otherwise, I'm perfect.

Hi, I'm a squirrel. I just can't slow down. Have you seen me walk? No, I didn't think so. Ah, I know what you're going to say but that picture was taken when I was eating. That's different. It's either run or freeze. I'm not an in-between guy.

My friend said,
"i feel it's fine.. you may add a few more animals , if you like."

I thought that was so funny. "Add a few more animals"!:) But the mood was upbeat and not for tedious blogging. So I changed it to the following:

"Hi, I'm a squirrel. Gotta run, bye!"

Now who hasn't heard that before? Anyone who has ever tried to strike up a conversation with one of their friendly neighbourhood squirrels, has been met by its need to scurry forth and meet its obligations at 'the other side'. Ladies and gentlemen, today's question is "Why do squirrels scurry?"

I posted it in the chat window. My friend said:

"pataaki material... hehe... swalpa jaasthi heLdhe ansutthe... but anyway nice one..."

Not really keen to build on it, I thought of putting my half-baked blogpost in between the chat scenario and voila! You just read it.

My Blogging on Blogger

2009-10-14T13:54:00.005+05:30

Type type type type type backspace backspace type type type. Enter. HTML mode: erase <>'s. Compose mode. Type type. Use MS Paint. Insert picture. Choose None for layout. Decide if image size is 'small', 'medium' or 'large' with no clue as to the specs. Drag and drop picture. Type type type type, type type type type. Add labels. Think of a title.

Publish.

Realise speeling mistakes. Notice 3 ways to make a better post.

Visit updated blogs. Like.

Log out.

Ask self after 3 days if this is not one of those posts that get zero comments.

Empty handed

2009-10-09T17:20:00.001+05:30

(right click > open in new tab)

Chairs

2009-09-26T17:02:00.002+05:30

Which chair would you take?

The solitary man

2009-09-25T18:15:00.001+05:30

Silent, unassuming, this solitary man;
Asks nothing. With duty in mind, keeps going.
Does he reckon the noble nature of the path he has tread?
Does he know the future earned of the steps he has lain?
What fortune awaits him? Nature hides the truth behind Her smile-
The moment to gift him not far away!
Dreams he does not spell out, this solitary man;
What will he say when he runs into his own bright destiny?

An unusual story

2009-09-15T16:15:00.001+05:30

I'm six foot two, that's quite tall for a girl
About 400 meters would go a pebble I hurl.
I used to be skinny till I befriended food
Ask me and I'll tell you what's grub for every mood.
It's really not my problem that I turned out to be big
It's all worth it for a tub of honey 'n' fig.
I recently liked a guy who is five seven
He looks like a dream that's descended from heaven.
It didn't take me long to turn to thoughts of marriage
To ask for his answer, I drove in a lovely carriage.
When I got to his doorstep, a wheel broke down
Not to be discouraged, I never did frown.
His family gathered to see what was wrong,
They must have really felt like they saw King Kong.
I cleared my throat and read out my splendid speech,
I went down on my knees and came into his reach...
He gallantly accepted my sweet proposal-
Won't the heart feel love though I be collosal?
They make all the hearts right if you ask me,
I could feel like a lotus, though I scare away a bee!

Also, by the same author:
An ordinary story

An ordinary story

2009-09-14T14:05:00.006+05:30

While he's a leader of him team,
And they lift him up and cheer,
I'm somewhere in the crowd,
Holding my Pepsi cup near.

While he's the beloved of many,
Surrounded on every side,
I'm a shy spectator,
I wave, smile and hide.

So when he walked up to me
And said he knew my face
All my years of schooling
were not a lost case.

I told him where I sat
in Miss Kalavathi's class
And awaited his recognition
Did I fail or did I pass?

He said something nice
About the teacher we shared
And I blurted something nicer
From a heart that really cared!

He looked at me and laughed
Were my feelings all that funny?
He stood like a lion
While I felt like a bunny.

He grinned and then left
That moment passed away
Leaving a girl like me
Under a powerful sway.

They make all the hearts
Wrong, if you ask me
One hero, one heroine
And tens of fans like me.

E3

2009-08-25T10:20:00.000+05:30

E3. A metaphor is:

(a) Another word for staircase :-(
(b) The definite article :-(
(c) A punctuation mark :-(
(d) A figure of speech :-)

***************************

Detective

2009-08-15T14:41:00.000+05:30

L1

2009-08-14T17:04:00.001+05:30

L1. What comes next:
1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 ?
(a) An exclamatory mark
(b) 1
(c) 5, dunno why they kept missing it.
(d) : came next.

Session 2 concluded

2009-08-09T17:45:00.000+05:30

CST 2.2

2009-08-08T16:09:00.000+05:30

CST 2.1

2009-08-07T16:38:00.000+05:30

CST Session 2

2009-08-06T15:10:00.000+05:30

Session 1 concluded

2009-08-05T13:28:00.000+05:30

CST 1.6

2009-08-04T16:49:00.000+05:30

CST 1.5

2009-08-03T13:37:00.000+05:30

CST 1. 4a and 4b

2009-08-02T13:30:00.000+05:30

4a.

4b.