Wednesday, January 21, 2009

aaaargh!

Writing is liberation, from a claustrophobia that comes out of too much in the mind perhaps. A little sorting helps sometimes, somethings always need to be directed right into the trash can, ya, the one thats spilling over already...

Random things

A week in Delhi...back...happy...

1. Its not cold anymore...no need for a quick fix...no matter where you go at what point in the day or night it can't possibly get any close to what you have been calling 'cold' all this while...the heat somehow feels like a blessing
2. The roads seem wider, wider than ever. Driving on them bliss...nothings a tough squeeze anymore. I feel like driving all over town with a rare overpowering confidence that comes outta having seen the worst.
3. No more contemplating where to go and when based on parking speculations which almost always give into Murphy's divine law.
4. I don't cock my ears to the sound of a few words of Hindi dropped about anywhere in the vicinity of where I am located. Hindi music now sounds normal, not an unusual luxury.
5. Windows don't need to be closed for fear of prying neighbours (read Punju women) who somehow always manage to catch you doing or saying something that can be fit into any context in any way and used to their best advantage.
6. People jostling on the roads IS cause for concern...and cannot be undermined/ ignored as a fight over stupid (read utterly important) things such as parking space.
7. It is absolutely normal to wear a jeans and a tee!...a visit to the local kiraane waala (panwadi) whatever the case may be does not require matching earrings! Flip flops are wearable and not regarded as signs of tam influence.
8. A gurudwara is a landmark! You aren't posed with daunting questions like 'which one?'
9. Surds suddenly CAN be counted without the risk of being beaten up at their mention.
10. Swearing is serious business, not way of conversation.

Things that make me wanna go back
Rampyari chai
Fruit mojitos
socks
Heaters
Quilts
Aloo tikki
Radio Mirchi
NSD
India Gate
Fab India
Costa
CP

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Memory

' I don't wanna move a thing....
It might change my memory'... Dido

Amongst the many weird things I relate to.....I wouldn't move a speck to let those memories remain.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

In monochrome

Someone said I should write...a little more readable, minus all those continuities...sentences, grammar driven. I am beyond repair, I am over writing to be read, reminds me of work. Work.. none now.
There's nothing predictable, the things you do, the results and whatever comes in between.
I love my home, I love the way it looks, I love how it screams out ME!! from every nook of it. I hate unlocking doors, doors that open into darkness and hardly a world beyond. I love noise, music sometimes sounds like a blurr, early after a sleepless night when you lie close to a speaker, maybe its just my disorientation.
There's nothing on my mind, except the thought of the next day, the new morning/ afternoon, the after-taste of the night and a tingling pain.
I can't define my needs, I've spent days in yonder, I've cried over and over in shock for someone I barely knew but can't ever forget.
I've walked out of a show coz I couldn't contain my tears.
Will I ever stop associating people with the places I see everyday, the clothes I wear, the sounds I hear? The distinct smell?
I want to write more often, I am sleepless enough. I want to sleep, but that's another thing.
The course of my life might forever change with the things I do today, now. I refuse to take notice. There's a passivness, in my voice. A detachment, it's a part of me. Nothing seems to deserve reaction. Its a world in monochrome, a life in black and white as he put it. Clear lines, hazy at the edges yet devoid of any bursts of colour that evoke reaction.
Days and nights are passing, quick, I want them to be fuller, fuller so I don't lose them so soon.

Monday, July 7, 2008

in love...again

Two months have flown, literally...work...forms a part of me...somewhere within...occupies my being my consciousness and fills the bits of the lack of it...its like living work...the life non- existent...
Hate to admit this...but I love the constant pressure...the paradox of each day....and the city..making me fall in love with itself...over and over again....at the end of everyday...
As immaterial as the person who said this to me would be I find it the truest ever....this city grows onto you...into your conscience in a way it's almost a fear gripping you...the thought of having to do without it....of things that make you connect and disconnect surpassing your own existence..
And sometimes the realisation strikes you at those moments you'd truly call nonchalant...a discussion...where I see myself defending it in a way I'd never do for something I held onto and would refuse to let go...
It is perhaps something about letting go that makes me fall in love...clutch harder...grow fonder...relive...recall...
I've loved...lost...broken...rebuilt...learnt....felt...thought...realised ..grown....and in everything it seems impossible to isolate...far from remove the city...the backdrop...its being...as patient as ever...waiting...perhaps longing for acceptance....like I did...
The small changes that came with everyday...make me sit back and notice....of the changes that developed in me...out of habit...and yet a certain consciousness that comes out of calling something my own.
I still have my share of cravings....of wanting to go 'home'....to a place where belongingness surpases the fondness...the viability of living with it....and its capability of fulfilling what I now call my needs.
It's a marvel...looking back at a day at the end of it...just one day...and the every little thing I've learnt throught it...the little warmth every thing/ person made me feel through it. The paradox of co-existence...the extent of it...boggles me...and yet it has turned unspeakable..more now than ever before...
A time when I felt expressing the difference in me was the hardest thing to do...has turned to one when the simple things that have crept into me have turned harder to express.
Concealed on the surface...like the charm of that first crush...that you fear might lessen when expressed...I refuse to open up with this long embedded - new found love
Art as it is...an inherent part of a being...is burried deep...in the core...in every aspect of the life of this place...spurting out at the edges in forms unimaginable...in ways that strike you and baffle you with how close you are really to it.
Observing your surroundings..in a large way enhances the learning..of yourself...of the hidden parts in you that need perhaps excavation which comes out of relating to an existence in front of you.
Enough and more...in all days has brought me to this...back to those times...I speak less...write lesser...the words cease when the boundaries of expression become seamless.
On a lighter side...I am at a loss of ways to describe how just a typical day leaves me at a high...
Its the signs....the exploring beyond my restricted physical boundaries...when I take a step ahead...and I am shocked at the lack of the anticipated fear...of the very little or no resistance I receive to them.
My room is back to its... paranomal...cleanliness deprived...paper littered...smoke filled state...I feel at home...
I am up at night...with a day ahead....and work enough to fill every minute I spend typing this....and I feel at ease...
The longings remain...the forgotten ones...the newfound ones...and I plan to blog more often...

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Phew!

Its another phase...this too shall pass...like everything does....does it?..
There's very lil that stays till the end...how does it matter?...nothing does...

P.S:- Demands another drink( hands thrown up in the air)

Thursday, May 29, 2008