lunedì 24 settembre 2007
domenica 23 settembre 2007
sometimes its right to do the wrong! sometimes its rght to just stare at the flowers and wonder how did they just grow up to become so vivid and colorful... sometimes its right to write to someone who would never show up here and bother to read...
welcome to the new country i am in, welcome to the renaissance country, "benvenuto".
welcome to the old folds of milan and the cobbled streets of the clangorous city... sparkling with pret fashion, resonating the high heels and the piercings of humans. hidden beauty is what is an alter name of milan... and so tru it stands
i have been in italy for more than 3 months now, and have become accoustomed to the ciao's and allora's... anybody stayin in italia will know these 2 words for sure... but unlike many people, italy is just not about pizza's and wines! ironical it is... of all the things we associate food to counrties! is it relevant enough too?
well... italy is a lot about giorgio armani and dolce and gabbana, similar to our country... the congress and the bjp! to alter powers... its just that in italy they use prettier pictures , but the business is more or less the same, cajoling with power!
welcome to the new country i am in, welcome to the renaissance country, "benvenuto".
welcome to the old folds of milan and the cobbled streets of the clangorous city... sparkling with pret fashion, resonating the high heels and the piercings of humans. hidden beauty is what is an alter name of milan... and so tru it stands
i have been in italy for more than 3 months now, and have become accoustomed to the ciao's and allora's... anybody stayin in italia will know these 2 words for sure... but unlike many people, italy is just not about pizza's and wines! ironical it is... of all the things we associate food to counrties! is it relevant enough too?
well... italy is a lot about giorgio armani and dolce and gabbana, similar to our country... the congress and the bjp! to alter powers... its just that in italy they use prettier pictures , but the business is more or less the same, cajoling with power!
listening to a song repeteadly, i just finished reading an article about slave trading, its hard to digest 25 billion people of this free nation are still being forced to live against their own will... beaten, forced, raped, pushed to be slaves for other people.
jaring hard faced crude truth looks into your eye, and yet we blindfold ourselves, choosing to look in another direction, so transfixed our we by the compassionate horror of it all, the giant is so huge that we cannot even phanthom the tide of doom.
its a strange place we live in, strange, wherein one hand ;one gets to see a a pool of kind faces who give up everything theirs to make lives of other people better. they dedicate so much, u feel humbled. and on the other , the goodness becomes overburdened by the continous flow of evil tides.
infact, how casually we talk about gang rape, without truly feeling ...
on r way to india habitat centre the other day, we started talking about rape, when a friend of mine told me of a particular incident,
a woman had been gang raped , and she went into such a mental trauma that she went paranoid and would refuse to wear clothes...
now she runs in the institution, naked....afraid of her own body
maybe, i know so less... maybe i am scared of knowing all....may be i can never know all.
i so wish i could know of the miseries of the world, keep an account, balance it with the goodness that people do. maybe if i was god, i could see what a twisted form of justice is followed .
there are countless seas of faces, some painted some blank.......
and yet i am a part of it, a speck in the herd
jaring hard faced crude truth looks into your eye, and yet we blindfold ourselves, choosing to look in another direction, so transfixed our we by the compassionate horror of it all, the giant is so huge that we cannot even phanthom the tide of doom.
its a strange place we live in, strange, wherein one hand ;one gets to see a a pool of kind faces who give up everything theirs to make lives of other people better. they dedicate so much, u feel humbled. and on the other , the goodness becomes overburdened by the continous flow of evil tides.
infact, how casually we talk about gang rape, without truly feeling ...
on r way to india habitat centre the other day, we started talking about rape, when a friend of mine told me of a particular incident,
a woman had been gang raped , and she went into such a mental trauma that she went paranoid and would refuse to wear clothes...
now she runs in the institution, naked....afraid of her own body
maybe, i know so less... maybe i am scared of knowing all....may be i can never know all.
i so wish i could know of the miseries of the world, keep an account, balance it with the goodness that people do. maybe if i was god, i could see what a twisted form of justice is followed .
there are countless seas of faces, some painted some blank.......
and yet i am a part of it, a speck in the herd
a vast ocean apart
It’s ironical how a change in the environment changes our way of thinking, our means of entertainment, our view point…phenomenal
I went on a 9 day tour to Himachal Pradesh, a state encrusted by mountains big and small, rivers cutting through, high narrow piercing gorges, waterfalls, planes…and inhabited by people staying in the bowels of nature
Though now considered as a tourist destination, I went on to live just 9 days, leaving behind a suspicious family, a few close friends who apparently said that they missed me, the frantic Delhi life, the everyday monotonous chatting, and the addiction to the computer!!
Probably the only gadgetry I took along was my camera and a link of communication – the mobile! I sometimes think that it must have been better had I left the continuously vibrating, havoc creating shit little box aside! I wish I could leave it fore-ever!! But these wishes are as fake as finding happy Jews during 1939-45!
Though my trip was on official one, financed by the government of India…heck
Wait stop!!!
My parents just returned, after a rather long outing, I didn’t even receive a smile, neither a grumpy hello, what I got is an accusing question and an austere command
No complaints!
My trip was financed by the govt. of India, for filing Geographical Indication Rights for the crafts of Himachal. Though HP is famous for various crafts like- Kulu shawls, Kulu caps, Chamba chapals, Chamba rumals, pullans, chutnies, pahari paintings. We as a group were focusing on pahari paintings
now the history of pahari painintgs date a long way to the paintings from the mughal era!
The mughals were the 1st ones to stat with the miniature paintings, which were later taken up by the pahari kings and painted to suit their style, these painings were then known as the Pahari Paintings!
Pahari paintings not only cover Himachal Pradesh, but also cover Rajasthan and certain parts of Punjab. Within HP itself there developed schools of paintings in the regions of Guler, Chamba, Mankot and Kangra. A lot information is available about Pahari Painintgs on the net, therefore ill try cutting the information short!
The art though has now become stagnant to the walls of the museum itself, but many reproductions are still being produced. Some artisans are still using the old techniques using natural colors, while others make do with poster colors and other substitutes!
All in all, what I personally felt was that we can only file a right for the style of the painting. Thus ensuring that who ever may make the painting is making it in the name of Kanga Style , but the benefit of the art cannot be restricted!
Well the trip was just not restricted to the art parameters! We did a lot of touring and sightseeing too, in which I realized sadly though, that being within the boundaries of my own country I felt like an outsider. A sad traveler browsing through the freshness of the villages like a new born learning how to breathe.
Those mountains as they stare at me, I wonder do they ever acknowledge my existence? Does it matter to them whether I breather or not, do I wear my best suit, i have behaved in a proper manner?? They just stare, giving me unconditional comfort, a feeling of vast encompassing feeling, protecting me from the harshness… even their jagged craggy peaks are softened by the lining of the trees, merging ever so beautifully with the darkness of the expanse of the clouds
The wind that these protected lands is cynically holy, captivating, and blissfully refreshing. The pahari’s have a weather beaten face, their lines seems to be carved out by the winds themselves, delicately caressing these children!
As I began talking about different environments, the ones that I felt here, pushed me to think more deepy, I felt like talking to myself, trying to explain my actions to these silent guardians, though inside I knew they neither heard me nor did they care…I felt small and humble. I wanted to meditate, I wanted to feel beauty in its raw terms!
Maybe I had not seen the most beautiful of the places, but I tried concentrating on beauty at least, and I was surprised to see I could decipher so much
That day in a small place called Chamunda, under million of stars and snow peaked mountain in front of me, sitting on a small rock, feeling the slight chill…I cried…an emotion was evoked within me, an emotion which I shall never be able to feel in the amidst of this fast paced city
An emotion which I cherished…a moment of solitariness… maybe
I went on a 9 day tour to Himachal Pradesh, a state encrusted by mountains big and small, rivers cutting through, high narrow piercing gorges, waterfalls, planes…and inhabited by people staying in the bowels of nature
Though now considered as a tourist destination, I went on to live just 9 days, leaving behind a suspicious family, a few close friends who apparently said that they missed me, the frantic Delhi life, the everyday monotonous chatting, and the addiction to the computer!!
Probably the only gadgetry I took along was my camera and a link of communication – the mobile! I sometimes think that it must have been better had I left the continuously vibrating, havoc creating shit little box aside! I wish I could leave it fore-ever!! But these wishes are as fake as finding happy Jews during 1939-45!
Though my trip was on official one, financed by the government of India…heck
Wait stop!!!
My parents just returned, after a rather long outing, I didn’t even receive a smile, neither a grumpy hello, what I got is an accusing question and an austere command
No complaints!
My trip was financed by the govt. of India, for filing Geographical Indication Rights for the crafts of Himachal. Though HP is famous for various crafts like- Kulu shawls, Kulu caps, Chamba chapals, Chamba rumals, pullans, chutnies, pahari paintings. We as a group were focusing on pahari paintings
now the history of pahari painintgs date a long way to the paintings from the mughal era!
The mughals were the 1st ones to stat with the miniature paintings, which were later taken up by the pahari kings and painted to suit their style, these painings were then known as the Pahari Paintings!
Pahari paintings not only cover Himachal Pradesh, but also cover Rajasthan and certain parts of Punjab. Within HP itself there developed schools of paintings in the regions of Guler, Chamba, Mankot and Kangra. A lot information is available about Pahari Painintgs on the net, therefore ill try cutting the information short!
The art though has now become stagnant to the walls of the museum itself, but many reproductions are still being produced. Some artisans are still using the old techniques using natural colors, while others make do with poster colors and other substitutes!
All in all, what I personally felt was that we can only file a right for the style of the painting. Thus ensuring that who ever may make the painting is making it in the name of Kanga Style , but the benefit of the art cannot be restricted!
Well the trip was just not restricted to the art parameters! We did a lot of touring and sightseeing too, in which I realized sadly though, that being within the boundaries of my own country I felt like an outsider. A sad traveler browsing through the freshness of the villages like a new born learning how to breathe.
Those mountains as they stare at me, I wonder do they ever acknowledge my existence? Does it matter to them whether I breather or not, do I wear my best suit, i have behaved in a proper manner?? They just stare, giving me unconditional comfort, a feeling of vast encompassing feeling, protecting me from the harshness… even their jagged craggy peaks are softened by the lining of the trees, merging ever so beautifully with the darkness of the expanse of the clouds
The wind that these protected lands is cynically holy, captivating, and blissfully refreshing. The pahari’s have a weather beaten face, their lines seems to be carved out by the winds themselves, delicately caressing these children!
As I began talking about different environments, the ones that I felt here, pushed me to think more deepy, I felt like talking to myself, trying to explain my actions to these silent guardians, though inside I knew they neither heard me nor did they care…I felt small and humble. I wanted to meditate, I wanted to feel beauty in its raw terms!
Maybe I had not seen the most beautiful of the places, but I tried concentrating on beauty at least, and I was surprised to see I could decipher so much
That day in a small place called Chamunda, under million of stars and snow peaked mountain in front of me, sitting on a small rock, feeling the slight chill…I cried…an emotion was evoked within me, an emotion which I shall never be able to feel in the amidst of this fast paced city
An emotion which I cherished…a moment of solitariness… maybe
clicked
my happiness in the frames of 6 * 4 inches... froozen, static, mine ever and always to obtain, sustain and retain!!
mine , mine and all mine! that thought is mine, that feeling is mine, that fleeting glory is mine, that pain , shame is mine...its shared with me
its bared with me, that embarassment is mine to think about, that yawn, stretch, the wink, the expression the purity, the vastness, the vaccum, the jump, the fall
my frame of 6 * 4 captures all, some fleet away , some get cuaght...
mine , mine and all mine! that thought is mine, that feeling is mine, that fleeting glory is mine, that pain , shame is mine...its shared with me
its bared with me, that embarassment is mine to think about, that yawn, stretch, the wink, the expression the purity, the vastness, the vaccum, the jump, the fall
my frame of 6 * 4 captures all, some fleet away , some get cuaght...
yet another peeka boo, to catastrophe, to smiles, laughter, happiness....yes it is a happy world this one!! its a happy world, mind u not a mad happy one, but a i care for the world not in the way to jubilion , to attainment of all pleasures , to feeling of peaceful sleep, feeling of eating hot gulab jamun with melting ice cream or having ebony and ivory all alone!!
the little pleasure of holding a small pup in ur hand and it cuddling in ur lap, or looking into the mirror and seeing that u hav reduced a lot, now looking much smarter and better!!
to having another bite of that delicious dish that mum makes for u, to lying under ur fathers lap and listening to another of those story tails where u r the little fairy roaming in the whistling forests....
is it going back to childhood the return of happiness, but then sometimes in r dotted years of innocence comes such dark forceful memories ,
sometimes hard to ignore, these memories remains!!
the little pleasure of holding a small pup in ur hand and it cuddling in ur lap, or looking into the mirror and seeing that u hav reduced a lot, now looking much smarter and better!!
to having another bite of that delicious dish that mum makes for u, to lying under ur fathers lap and listening to another of those story tails where u r the little fairy roaming in the whistling forests....
is it going back to childhood the return of happiness, but then sometimes in r dotted years of innocence comes such dark forceful memories ,
sometimes hard to ignore, these memories remains!!
windless frame
to the windless frame, where i live
without realizing life's gifts
to the thankless grave where i sleep,
without realizing my skills reep
to the limited breathes that i take,
without acknowldeging my stakes
what have i become, what have i accomplished...after a walk of 18 years.
i have gathered my troubles, my pains
my knowldge, my shame..
yet i feel ignorant to what others cry..
to what aspire, to feelings taht no longer matter
so stuck am i in my own walls.....
that the sun light doesnt penetrate any more...
my breathe is stuck moma...
not until u let the wind pipe down..
the daily routine
its the moring cup of milk that can wake me up from the slumbers of dreamless sleep...its not the mobile alarm , neither my brothers school's bus, neither moms shreaks, neither drawing the curtains, neither dad leaving for office! and niether the smell of ghee melting over the cooking pan
then begins the ritual routine of brushing, washing and changing just clothes during winters....lets just keep the bathing process for later!!
anywaz, then my nose drifts towards the kitchen! i mean come one tell me how long can u survive on one glass of milk till 11.............in the mid day!!
the bread and eggs do wonder for me! wake me up completly! teamed with the morning dose of newsappers, magazines,brunches, people telling abt their ah so well to do lives!! the news from the yesterdays party, still alive in the newspappers!! they wake me up for sure....
anywaz, the time just drones onwards doesnt it! and so does the day and its tiringly moronless day!! hey had it been so interesing why do u think i m here and sitting and writing ...................................
well, no actually i guess my sensory organs are now filled with too much of smoke from the kachua chap! tht i guess its affetcing my mind now too.......
har har! i dun feel like sleeping and yet i want to tell u abt my only source of entertainment! ........but heck they just went into a bad fight!! these 2 cant live off themseleves!!
lemme go usort them out now
then begins the ritual routine of brushing, washing and changing just clothes during winters....lets just keep the bathing process for later!!
anywaz, then my nose drifts towards the kitchen! i mean come one tell me how long can u survive on one glass of milk till 11.............in the mid day!!
the bread and eggs do wonder for me! wake me up completly! teamed with the morning dose of newsappers, magazines,brunches, people telling abt their ah so well to do lives!! the news from the yesterdays party, still alive in the newspappers!! they wake me up for sure....
anywaz, the time just drones onwards doesnt it! and so does the day and its tiringly moronless day!! hey had it been so interesing why do u think i m here and sitting and writing ...................................
well, no actually i guess my sensory organs are now filled with too much of smoke from the kachua chap! tht i guess its affetcing my mind now too.......
har har! i dun feel like sleeping and yet i want to tell u abt my only source of entertainment! ........but heck they just went into a bad fight!! these 2 cant live off themseleves!!
lemme go usort them out now
i killed becuase i died
it all began as a game,
to the dreams of strive
till the sunken lives
to the gory of deaths
i still thought there was hope left
its a differnt world from here
behind these morbid bars
theres just a window to breath
the smell of death so so far
and i still thought there was hope left
its the way they look
not into my eyes
they smell my hunger,
my hunger for life
i m no slave of life
i m a lover of death
and i still think there is hope left
to the dreams of strive
till the sunken lives
to the gory of deaths
i still thought there was hope left
its a differnt world from here
behind these morbid bars
theres just a window to breath
the smell of death so so far
and i still thought there was hope left
its the way they look
not into my eyes
they smell my hunger,
my hunger for life
i m no slave of life
i m a lover of death
and i still think there is hope left
the sweep out
sometimes i yonder why i never manage to throw my used pens, batteries, pappers, newspapers??
sometimes i yonder as to why they never seem to stop, as if conspiring agaisnt me and my room and to occupy evry nook and crany of my little room and to stash it with trash!!
and sometimes i also yonder, as to why every month do i need to clean my room???
its all a conspiration i m telling u, a conspiration strategically conspiered against me and my cluttered space by the international dirt flow organisation(IDFO)! and it surely is attacking my room in the biggest possible way!
now i had to hold a cabinet meeting with my two loyal ministers who were actively invovled in promoting the IDFO, namely my daschund who was dealing with the ' ticks in ur room' opperation and the second being my german shepard who speacialized in ' hairy falls'.
the meeting that was held was created quite an uproar, both the parties seemed hurt that they had to stop dwelling in my domicile...
after completing that heavy task my next aim was to remove, replace and re adjust the roving pappers, some were marked by doodles, some by long essays, some by just water marks, some by nameless numbers, some by just numbers... so on and so forth...
stuck in a deliema, so as to not to waste paper, and also to adjust these advercary of space was quite a task !!!
completeing just that was a back breaking phenomena...hats off to me !!!
still i m left with shoes, clothes, cd's ( they seem to have been giving competition to papers)... cleaning dusting, swipping , grunting , panting,
and by the way to all the followers of IDFO..........i m gonna get ur sweet white ass kicked so hard tht moma is gonna be proud of me!
boots up,, night suit folded, jhaadoo in arm! watch out here comes....
sometimes i yonder as to why they never seem to stop, as if conspiring agaisnt me and my room and to occupy evry nook and crany of my little room and to stash it with trash!!
and sometimes i also yonder, as to why every month do i need to clean my room???
its all a conspiration i m telling u, a conspiration strategically conspiered against me and my cluttered space by the international dirt flow organisation(IDFO)! and it surely is attacking my room in the biggest possible way!
now i had to hold a cabinet meeting with my two loyal ministers who were actively invovled in promoting the IDFO, namely my daschund who was dealing with the ' ticks in ur room' opperation and the second being my german shepard who speacialized in ' hairy falls'.
the meeting that was held was created quite an uproar, both the parties seemed hurt that they had to stop dwelling in my domicile...
after completing that heavy task my next aim was to remove, replace and re adjust the roving pappers, some were marked by doodles, some by long essays, some by just water marks, some by nameless numbers, some by just numbers... so on and so forth...
stuck in a deliema, so as to not to waste paper, and also to adjust these advercary of space was quite a task !!!
completeing just that was a back breaking phenomena...hats off to me !!!
still i m left with shoes, clothes, cd's ( they seem to have been giving competition to papers)... cleaning dusting, swipping , grunting , panting,
and by the way to all the followers of IDFO..........i m gonna get ur sweet white ass kicked so hard tht moma is gonna be proud of me!
boots up,, night suit folded, jhaadoo in arm! watch out here comes....
lost expressions
when was the last time i kissed someone...
when was the last time i looked deep into the eye, when was the last time........i do not remember
but what i realize today is how i have convinently managed to stop myself from expressing.
i have forgotten how to love, i have forgettn how to feel
infact, it is quite ironical, as i sat yesterday playing with a 2 yr old girl , called ali; made her wear a golf cap and saw the pretty pink of her lip perched on the chubby cheeks... it stuck with me as i realized how i had forgotten how to express
i dont see the connection and i hope i figure it out while typing this...as a matter of fact even writing this is not expression, its a mere fact!
and now my mind falls into the teenage bracket, of falling for petite crushes, but i stop myslef...
tell myself that career is more important, but since when did materialism flood in and .......
since when was anything more important than love? and since when did i become so wise
so unlike my childhood!
is this called the transition period?
the insenstivity which we learn to obtain!?
when was the last time i looked deep into the eye, when was the last time........i do not remember
but what i realize today is how i have convinently managed to stop myself from expressing.
i have forgotten how to love, i have forgettn how to feel
infact, it is quite ironical, as i sat yesterday playing with a 2 yr old girl , called ali; made her wear a golf cap and saw the pretty pink of her lip perched on the chubby cheeks... it stuck with me as i realized how i had forgotten how to express
i dont see the connection and i hope i figure it out while typing this...as a matter of fact even writing this is not expression, its a mere fact!
and now my mind falls into the teenage bracket, of falling for petite crushes, but i stop myslef...
tell myself that career is more important, but since when did materialism flood in and .......
since when was anything more important than love? and since when did i become so wise
so unlike my childhood!
is this called the transition period?
the insenstivity which we learn to obtain!?
lunedì 17 settembre 2007
gone are the days!
my heart once broke and broke for all
a memory i had kept so long, had perished to fall
for one fine day it came to me like a silent kill
and said -
" gone r the days... gone r the moments...
the only hope one can hold on to are memories and memories alone...
the older they are the better they get"
i need not wish to forget these words, as they come from what i had loved!
i need not need to leave them behind, as i prefer to face them all
memories indeed that makes thy life! ?
what if memory defeats thy fall
thy pride
thy desires
thy innocence
the thief took it all
a memory i had kept so long, had perished to fall
for one fine day it came to me like a silent kill
and said -
" gone r the days... gone r the moments...
the only hope one can hold on to are memories and memories alone...
the older they are the better they get"
i need not wish to forget these words, as they come from what i had loved!
i need not need to leave them behind, as i prefer to face them all
memories indeed that makes thy life! ?
what if memory defeats thy fall
thy pride
thy desires
thy innocence
the thief took it all
Iscriviti a:
Post (Atom)