on a random note

allow me to charm you.
let these words warn you.
a changeling, a dangerous creature.
keep me at a distance and you are forever mine.
will keep you dangling on a string.
carrying your bobbing heart
on a red string.

on somedays i like myself and on somedays i don't. there are days when things begin to make sense and then as suddenly the thread is lost and i am left grappling with the fast unfolding yarn, slipping out of my hands. I want to read words warm like claret on a winter afternoon. There is somewhere I have got to be, there is someone else i forgot to be. Sunshine on water a thousand stars dance. warm skin blushes to warmer hues of desire. a yearning a longing; dont want to be buried under ashes of unrealised desires.

Dearest, precious tomorrow

I hope to see you tomorrow. I hope you find me smiling. I have been waiting for you since eternity but you never kept your promise. Oh, why did you take so long!

Tell me, how will I recognize you? Will I know you by the image I carry of you in my heart? What if you are not the same? Will it make a difference to me? Ah!!

Tell me, have you too been waiting for me? They say tomorrow is but today revisited but is it true?

Why did you make me wait so??

I was not ready for you! Is that what you are saying? Oh so it all depended upon me and here I was all along waiting for you to show up. If I only I could have been ready earlier!

What is so funny…why are you smiling? Hmmm!

Yes I can see your point, first I waited for tomorrow, now I cry for yesterday, ah what a fool I am...thank you for pointing that out!

You already got me smiling; I can see you will keep your promise…I can hardly wait to see my tomorrow even if its different from what I have been expecting.

lessonets

For a long time now, I would feel that my ears were sort of blocked. My hearing was not affected so I did not bother about it but then the day before yesterday I felt a passing and brief spell of vertigo on waking up. It was a sort of a dizzy sensation and I felt a slight nausea too. I went to see the doctor about it later and he told me that it was to do with my ‘blocked’ ear…. it had affected my sense of balance. It is nothing to worry about and its not that bad either. He has given me couple of medicines for it but they make me feel drowsy and lethargic. Apart from that short dizzy spell, I felt ok better than what I am feeling now with the meds, am tempted to stop them. What stops me is what he said about if not treated it gets worse, so though there is nothing to worry about now, untreated it might be a problem later on.

Like all life’s problems; solve a tiny niggling problem now, even though it might not feel good doing so, will save you from a major headache later on.

Last night, when I was raiding the refrigerator, I found myself wishing that my life were like somebody else’s, to be more specific, that I was somebody else. It probably was the guilt at bingeing. It struck me that it would make little difference, if I were another, I would be simply exchanging one set of problems with another and further that each of us has been given certain traits specific to solving our peculiar set of problems. What difference does it make then which set of problems we are solving? Its my own peculiarities that I need to work upon. It is my own skirt that needs straightening. Only weak people like me wish for different circumstances. Besides could I handle somebody else's problems? I'd probably feel like a fish out of water there! Its so much easy to blame others, even if its that sinful bar of chocolate and that piece of cheese lying in the refrigerator! mamma!!

I think for me lasting peace lies in being able to master my own mind without tormenting it.

look away now

August is coming to a close now. I turn of the air conditioner to hear the softly falling rain outside. I dream of unseen places, of low doorways and white linen on wooden beds. Cold milk and some fruit on a table beside a large jug brimming with wildflowers. There are trees outside, old trees, with low-hanging branches. Perhaps there will be a table made of wood beneath the trees with a chair. I would like to sit there with my thoughts or better still listen to the wind in the trees and the birds and the silence with my feet caressing the grass beneath. Perhaps I will be thinking of autumn showers, sitting in that flower-studded meadow.

sucking fingers dipped in honey

and for breakfast i had tea.

licking lips laced with purple berries

and for dinner i had milk.

and so autumn begins

on a starry night with a full moon.

Cheers!!!

One of the best things about blogging is the interesting feedback. I am not suggesting that we blog for the comments but the back alley banter, a phrase Perfect Virgo used earlier makes for friends and is sometimes even better than the front page. That is what I think about my green post. It elicited such warm and wonderful comments, better than the post itself. Pecos Blue, posted photographs of the paddy field for me and Russell and Nasra were inspired to write poetry. Earlier, Angel-A posted pictures of roses and sweets for me and Joel picked up on how we all need friends. I got a mention at the desi pundit, Rumination, Blex and Every Seven. The woman, Pandora's box and Irina included me as friends and I am aware how childish I am sounding but it is a wonderful fuzzy warm feeling. I don't need to add how very fond I am of all my regular visitors and at moments like these I feel deeply, deeply moved!

I am an ordinary person living a small town life in a decrepit town in India. I have not traveled very much. To meet people of different customs has always been a cherished dream for me. Even as kid geographical boundaries did not make sense to me, they seemed to be lines decided by people I did not even know, let alone like or respect. This is before I learned about globalization and freedom of movement, intellectual capital and the World Wide Web. For someone like me, this has been an unexpected bonus. I have come across some of the most interesting and enchanting people, I know, here.

So here is to ALL OF YOU! Salute!

...and thank you Sue

Well. so what!

The government of Maharashtra has banned dance bars all over the state, including those in Mumbai. Furthermore it will not even allow the erstwhile dancers to work as waitresses in these bars. For those who are wondering what might these dance bars be, are they some kind of coked up version of Twinkies? Well, these are seedy little pubs sorta places, where men come to have a drink and to ogle at young girls dressed in shimmery lehanga-cholis (full ankle length and small blousons) and saris and garish make-up. These lolitas in ghoulish makeup dance to the latest bollywood numbers in a fashion that seems to me a cross between the bollywood dance style, the head-banging seen at darghas and the kind of neither-here-nor-there style of dancing at weddings. These places are not very expensive compared to the more high-end pubs, discos and lounges and their patrons tip the dancers.The dance bars were initially banned in Mumbai as the government felt it was downgrading the moral fiber of its citizenry.

Post August 15 the ban was extended to cover the entire state. The men who visit there seem to be all adults. If the government claims that it has done so because the dancing is only a cover for prostitution then also it doesn’t make sense. There are plenty of prostitutes working otherwise and maybe they could have tightened the laws and made it incumbent upon the owners to guarantee that no prostitution or solicitation was undertaken by its employees.I am even told that most of these dance bars were run with the blessings of the local policemen and politicos. The union of dance bars has decided to move court and fight the ban order. I hope they win. This hypocrisy on part of our government is sickening to me.

I might add here that these women are more modestly dressed than the ‘item-girls’ when they do their ‘item’ dance numbers, the recent trend in Indian movies. These actress-dancers are later invited to perform at various events and functions attended by politicians as chief guests. Its not much different from ‘nautanki’ though much more tastefully done and with higher production values. How can they then have the cheek to shut the dance bars, the trickle-down versions?

Although I may not agree with the taste and preference of the people who enjoy these performances, I fully support their right to their kind of entertainment. I am not claiming that these women get a good deal in such places, most probably they get a very raw deal and do it only because of lack of other viable options but how are we making it better for them by taking away their livelihood, by making them desperate?

lost in nothingness

estranged words, whispery and fluffy as clouds. bits of sentences twirling in a whirlpool raked by incomplete thoughts each one overtaking another. my mind feels like the freeway on a cold and windy day. if only i could catch them all down and turn them into words big and flowing like the river, then maybe they will carry me further into making sense of it all.

searching for nectar under august skies

Lick the words dripping off my wound. Lay kisses on my grave cold and neglected.

I pick your words, honeysuckle sweet. Wild as the breeze that blows the warm august sky.

It is the light in your bright august shine eyes, which will warm my cold heart.

Unshed tears in your eyes, sparkling stardust. My tears turn precious when they wash your face.

The nectar of your words going down my throat, with each drop my heart comes alive.

August comes winter will follow. Snow there won’t be but the sun shall come. An unending thought. Waiting for tomorrow. Have a nice weekend guys! toot, toot!

bitters

I could write about my old dog that died 11 days ago. I could write about how my, another dog alerted me when a monkey clasped my ankle and how I screamed him and his pals away. I could write about how I missed my friend’s messages when she was in china looking at the great wall. However I will not write about any of those today.

Like the sweetness in a fruit is a gift from god, abundance is a blessing only if so sanctioned by god. Abundance is only half a blessing. That which we have prayed for can yet makes us cry if he so wills it. In a blink a boon becomes a bane. My prayers have always been sort of a wish list but I am going to my amend my prayers now and ask him to make good for me in whatever I have.

My parents are coming home tomorrow. They had gone to visit my kid brother who lives in another city and I can’t wait to wrap my arms around maa. Her warm shapeless body is like a soft perfumed cloud which envelopes me in its warmth and soothes me with its fragrance. One has got a cold and another stomach flu; I hope they reach home safely. I worry about them. They are growing old. Its disturbing to see them so.

Skies cry
As people beg
"No more!"

Strong hands
Helping strangers
Smile

and the light goes green

Some greens which i like:

Green juicy apples
Green tomatoes, fried in a little bit of butter
Pale green leaves
Dense foliage.
Lettuce and peeled cucumbers
Trees
Deep dark green silk
Tangerine
Limes
Paintings of bamboo leaves
Mossy thick dark leaves
Olives
Olive green leather
Early morning sunshine on green grass
Rain, though it has no colour but for me its green because nothing makes greens greener than rain.
Spinach!

Then there are some which I don’t like:

Green eye shadow, not even on anyone else!
A particular shade of dull green on walls
The green which grows on long-gone-things
The greenish lime from hard water, which covers taps, block shower pores.
Slimy stuff.
Green jelly
Green coloured liquids
Green cardboard files, there are so many of them in this world!
Green bright satin
Green gooey paste of henna

I have typed green once too many times for now, so much so that I am beginning to wonder if I am spelling it correctly.

by the way, i have added a tag-board on the side-bar, feel free to post whatever comes to your mind there. :)

tattered

come to me. walk away with me. its getting harder to walk alone.

i'm the cracked earth at your feet,
the moon at your window,
the howling wind.

i'm broken at sundown,
dissolving in darkness,
melting in your tears.

if only, i could ask you to come away with me.

Will I be true or will my words be like the rest, fine and fallow?
Lay your hand on my heart. Look into my face. Tell me what you see.

I'm afraid to make promises. I have seen love die young.
When it dies there aint nothing you can do but just give it a decent burial.

the forever they talk about, i have been searching all my life. if love has a shelf life then why does it not say so on the bottle. songs of love lasting a lifetime are plenty but then why do these words sound like lies?

Still baby, tell me some lies tonight. these words will come true if you believe them. This heart might shine like gold, yet.

come to me. walk away with me. its getting harder to walk alone.