We had 'bahut berry' blast in a jam ka bottle..nd saw cool chairs..
sabato 14 novembre 2009
lunedì 28 settembre 2009
armied for life!
one of the million things that i want to do, i want to relive every odyssey that i have had with my parents, infant to adolescence, tracing back the various places that i have traveled, consciously and unconscionsly!
i want to make a picture map, of yellowed photos, anecdotes, experiences from dad, mum's silent version, those isolated places, events from every individual's memory, traced by an emotion
travel all those places, that i have had the privilege to go to, being an army child. remember the smell of MES ka khanna, the TV rooms, the red and white bricks, fried nuts with onions, endless hours of traveling in a gypsy or jonga, drinking fruity...
new house, new colony, new school, new faces, new dogs, good evening uncle, good evening aunty!!
never being a part of the city, yet being able to live the weather, breathe the air, and explore other areas, which no one has even heard of! bhiya's in cycle, school in 2-tons, evening get together in MES, dining out, dining in!
ow! the excitement before shifting to a new place, the lachrymose departure from yet another cantonment! Ma's AWWA meeting, smell of pressed clothes, Dad's green Uniform!
and then i wonder why doesnt my urge to travel ever stop? why do i feel like packing my bags and discovering a new place, meeting people in uniform, hearing stories, endless stories over a drink of whiskey, why doesnt the smell of polish go?
why does black ambassador weave nostalgia, why does a javan saluting while riding a bicycle bring a smile?
guess.... i have been ARMIED FOR LIFE!
i want to make a picture map, of yellowed photos, anecdotes, experiences from dad, mum's silent version, those isolated places, events from every individual's memory, traced by an emotion
travel all those places, that i have had the privilege to go to, being an army child. remember the smell of MES ka khanna, the TV rooms, the red and white bricks, fried nuts with onions, endless hours of traveling in a gypsy or jonga, drinking fruity...
new house, new colony, new school, new faces, new dogs, good evening uncle, good evening aunty!!
never being a part of the city, yet being able to live the weather, breathe the air, and explore other areas, which no one has even heard of! bhiya's in cycle, school in 2-tons, evening get together in MES, dining out, dining in!
ow! the excitement before shifting to a new place, the lachrymose departure from yet another cantonment! Ma's AWWA meeting, smell of pressed clothes, Dad's green Uniform!
and then i wonder why doesnt my urge to travel ever stop? why do i feel like packing my bags and discovering a new place, meeting people in uniform, hearing stories, endless stories over a drink of whiskey, why doesnt the smell of polish go?
why does black ambassador weave nostalgia, why does a javan saluting while riding a bicycle bring a smile?
guess.... i have been ARMIED FOR LIFE!
lunedì 27 luglio 2009
sabato 25 luglio 2009
domenica 7 giugno 2009
Undulating stories by the sea…
Under the balloon afloat
Haggling with the unapologetic winds
Stood a passer by
Hallowed by the lamp’s yellow ring
Short stories came and went by
Like the undulating waves
A shriek, laughter, those tapering feet
A child’s fantasy of credulous castles and callowed caves
Daunted by cautioning voices, yet,
Summoned by the vast sea
Short stories… came and went by
Her heart had flown a million already
The thrill almost hit the sky
When the man walked into the endless
An effortless leap he took by
Of how she waited for just this moment
Words could not even begin to explain
Indefiable urge to run after him
Was her only aim.
They warned her, ordered her to stay
Ravaged about the danger
But galloped her heart, her wings of freedom spread
She could not hear the warnings, those orders…they were dead
Ached every part of her, trembled to follow him
As she could see him disappear
Vision had become despaired, Time had become anxiety
So she ran, blinded
Only to touch him before he
They were stricken, panicked
At her sudden depart
Some ran to wrench her, some lost in their seclude
But in seconds & unashamed
She stood brazen and nude...
Her feet felt a trickling sensation
A feeling of paranoia brushed
The cold had sent a shiver
The excitement had emblazoned
When came his warm touch…
She must have clung on
In the sea’s mystic revelation.
Under the afloat balloon
Haggling with the adamant wind
Stood as a passer by
A short story,
Of a little child who ran behind her father
Embracing the brown sea
lunedì 19 gennaio 2009
adulterated
Just yesterday as I spoke to younger brother I realized a missing link in our conversation, not that our thoughts have not been conflicting before, but this time it was different.
We began with our usual talks, when I pointedly reminded him of the fact that he was not concentrating on his studies, he retorted back questioning as to when was the last time we talked about his interests. Taken aback by this remark, I immediately shifted the topic to his interests and realized with a shock of course that my brother had developed an interest of “buying new shoes”. For a moment I held my breath on the phone expecting a giggle from the other side, preparing myself for the plethora of laughter, but my idea of joke was a serious affair for my brother.
I chided, after the silence had evaded… “Buying shoes is an interest??? Since when did such things start qualifying for interests, hobbies?” and tart came an excited reply…” not just buying shoes, I like dressing up my clothes according to that too…”! And then it struck me, the teenage blues, red, or green….rather hues were circling all over my darling self admiring brother. At the age of 16 +, he just has too many things to do, dance is important, meeting friends cant be done without, shopping, playing in the fields, just casually passing time, with nothing in the world to worry about! Sigh…
And then that missing link fit, at an age difference of 6 yrs, I seem to have moved on to the old generation. Worrying about profession, money, time, studies…after all aren’t other things as important too?? But as they say, as you pass that particular age, they charms of it die along…and you transform into another person. I have transformed to a young adult, still being chided by my father as to be more responsible, be aware about my monetary assets , meet people, socialize in a proper way…so on and so forth!
Where does the list end, the line blur?
When do you start shedding your skin, when do you start transforming from one stage to another?
When does one actually become an adult?
We began with our usual talks, when I pointedly reminded him of the fact that he was not concentrating on his studies, he retorted back questioning as to when was the last time we talked about his interests. Taken aback by this remark, I immediately shifted the topic to his interests and realized with a shock of course that my brother had developed an interest of “buying new shoes”. For a moment I held my breath on the phone expecting a giggle from the other side, preparing myself for the plethora of laughter, but my idea of joke was a serious affair for my brother.
I chided, after the silence had evaded… “Buying shoes is an interest??? Since when did such things start qualifying for interests, hobbies?” and tart came an excited reply…” not just buying shoes, I like dressing up my clothes according to that too…”! And then it struck me, the teenage blues, red, or green….rather hues were circling all over my darling self admiring brother. At the age of 16 +, he just has too many things to do, dance is important, meeting friends cant be done without, shopping, playing in the fields, just casually passing time, with nothing in the world to worry about! Sigh…
And then that missing link fit, at an age difference of 6 yrs, I seem to have moved on to the old generation. Worrying about profession, money, time, studies…after all aren’t other things as important too?? But as they say, as you pass that particular age, they charms of it die along…and you transform into another person. I have transformed to a young adult, still being chided by my father as to be more responsible, be aware about my monetary assets , meet people, socialize in a proper way…so on and so forth!
Where does the list end, the line blur?
When do you start shedding your skin, when do you start transforming from one stage to another?
When does one actually become an adult?
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