I watched Shri 420, a retro Raj kapoor film made in 1975 yesterday... in a theater that is not in a MULTIPLEX...
The experience was brilliant with the audience singing along loudly with full enthu for a second show film... ( maybe its a strategy that they came up with to not fall asleep)
Raj kapoor was getting to me with his COPY CAT STYLE... it was like watching a 3rd rate street imitation of Charlie Chaplin.
I think Indian movie-makers just aim the actual audience and never consider future audience. A movie made in 1975 when watched in the 2009, it should still be able to offer something to the audience.
Where as with some of Indian films (specially Hindi ones... as most Telugu movies made before 80's had either mythological or family stories.) half the time I was irritated with the fake 3rd rate charlie.
It makes me wonder what the film-makers thought of the audience. Hollywood offered in Indi style... Tsk tsk...
and yet such brilliant lyrics... "dil ka haal sune dil wala" wah wah...
Not that copying doesn't happen now and not that southies don't... it happens every where and It is a big shame... specially coz we have soo many stories to tell from our own back yard.
and continuing on...
Did you ever think of voyeurism ??? I think everyone is a Voyeur at some level to a certain degree. Curiosity taken to an other level.
I irritate myself by Say things that I don't mean and not saying things I mean out of fear of "I don't know"
The former happens because it will get you some advantage? WHAT ADVANTAGE "I don't know" and the Latter because of some disadvantage... AGAIN, some unknown name less fear gripping us...
Lately with my severe introspection, I am discovering traits that I am ashamed of and irritated with in others.
Today I have been doing that a lot, with H. I don't feel the way he wants me to feel, but I just say these things, and then I cringe... I cringe inside deeply because I am being fake..and false, and not true to my honest feelings...
I don't like to be Rude with people and HATE Hurting people's feelings in any which way, but it feels strange to desire to Please... Its a horrible HORRIBLE FEELING.
Yet I am afraid of throwing that mask away. Afraid what I may expose to the world.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Confused head and a Python tummy !!!
Today...
I don't even know myself anymore.
I think it might be a good thing, and not a bad thing. I look back through my journal, and I slowly see this change. I feel like I am waking up a very different Person...
I eat too much some days and too less on some others... I am just tired of telling myself about the importance of following a routine as far as food is concerned, BUT my head and heart take turns to rule my days and I just let them.
The weather is confusing, now rain and now sun shine... BUT the summer rain is more than welcome... and my plants look happy and one of them even gave me a surprise by flowering... didn't know it was a flowering type...
Love these little surprises... like my parents visit on Sunday. I just love it when they visit me ...
Every one should walk half way to meet in a relationship, it is tiring to do the full lap all alone... It feels like the other doesn't care enough...
*SIGH* some times it pains to think that my parents in law didn't visit me even once from the time B left. Maybe they don't care enough, or maybe just too caught up.
I looked in the mirror and was amased at what I saw... skin around my nose is peeling again, result of the Sunday swim and last nights exposure to the cool breeze...
I sat with my furry companion in the balcony and noticed she has a tiny growth on her nose... I get very scared and begin to imagine the worst... have to take her to the vet tomorrow.
Last night's sleep was filled with dreams... I dreamt of my first room-mate, a friend called Aditya, about Pepz's strange growth...
I keep thinking of why I love the people I love, some don't even care for it, and some others don't need me to love them...
I scribbled off all the thoughts passing through my head now in this super drowsy head and stuffed belly.
I don't even know myself anymore.
I think it might be a good thing, and not a bad thing. I look back through my journal, and I slowly see this change. I feel like I am waking up a very different Person...
I eat too much some days and too less on some others... I am just tired of telling myself about the importance of following a routine as far as food is concerned, BUT my head and heart take turns to rule my days and I just let them.
The weather is confusing, now rain and now sun shine... BUT the summer rain is more than welcome... and my plants look happy and one of them even gave me a surprise by flowering... didn't know it was a flowering type...
Love these little surprises... like my parents visit on Sunday. I just love it when they visit me ...
Every one should walk half way to meet in a relationship, it is tiring to do the full lap all alone... It feels like the other doesn't care enough...
*SIGH* some times it pains to think that my parents in law didn't visit me even once from the time B left. Maybe they don't care enough, or maybe just too caught up.
I looked in the mirror and was amased at what I saw... skin around my nose is peeling again, result of the Sunday swim and last nights exposure to the cool breeze...
I sat with my furry companion in the balcony and noticed she has a tiny growth on her nose... I get very scared and begin to imagine the worst... have to take her to the vet tomorrow.
Last night's sleep was filled with dreams... I dreamt of my first room-mate, a friend called Aditya, about Pepz's strange growth...
I keep thinking of why I love the people I love, some don't even care for it, and some others don't need me to love them...
I scribbled off all the thoughts passing through my head now in this super drowsy head and stuffed belly.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The Praise of folly...
Only look at those heavy, solemn fellows who've devoted themselves to philosophic studies or to serious and difficult business -- they have started to grow old even before their youth, their vital spirits and animal juices all dried up as a result of constant worry and the pressure of painful, intensive cogitation. But my morons are all plump, with sleek and glistening skins. . .never feeling any of the sorrows of old age unless by chance they pick up some trouble by contagion from the wise.
Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus
Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus
DARK WAS THE NIGHT
Yesterday, I worked almost till 1am I dozed of in the cab... But when I got Home I was feeling fresh again and felt like a long walk, I used to do that a lot as a teenager, sneak out of the house around 2 am and walk the streets just to feel free... That old urge to feel free dawned on me last night, my ever Enthu cutlet Pepsi already sensed my thoughts ( ESP I guess) and she was jumping around...
I freshened up and set out for a walk, The night was beautiful and everything was freshly washed by the rain in the evening... The smell of wet mud was pushing me back in to my past and I was flipping my mental album, places and people were dominantly present in them, The experiences I shared with them, the emotions they evoked in me had me gripped in the past I began to miss some of my dear friends, my friends from School; my friend in high school through college, My colony friends in marredpally, then teenage friends and friends I hung out when I did some plays or a brief trek or a work shop or many many many such... SIGH
I read some where that we meet people for a reason a season and a lifetime... It is beyond choice, we are just attracted to that person because or in spite of what we think.
Every person that passes through our lives makes a contribution to our autobiographies. There are those who play large roles and make deep impressions, becoming full chapters of our autobiographies, but sometimes a brief special appearance worth mentioning in a page, before life takes them in another direction and yet they create a meaningful connection with us.
The world is full of more people we get more interested in them than the ones we already know, I strongly believe that we are often drawn to people with similar energy, which brings us together time and time again.
When we meet a person it is as if we have known him all our lives we shared similar life stories or lived just around the corner from each other but never met until now... That is fate bringing these people into our lives, there is always a reason.
They probably are here to pass on a message, to remind us of a part of ourselves we have forgotten to nurture. They might appear to give us a chance to react in a new way to an old situation. They may even bring up unresolved issues so that we may complete them, giving us the chance to move forward on our life path. They may never know what they bring into our lives, but the contact is a gift.
I had a strong urge to not just take up a old habit of walking in the quiet of the night but also to seek out my old friends. I went to bed with all these thoughts buzzing in my head and I dreamt of my dear friend Jaisi from high school, she named her daughter Vishnu, she loves me that much... Then how come I am unable to get back in touch... I don't know.
I associate some places with some people and all my plants are called by my friends names... My closest friends are in my bed room where as the rest of them are all in the rest of the house.
I don't know what these dreams mean But I know I am being given a message by the nature to rekindle my old relationships to use their appearance as an excuse to get in touch. to reach out to share the gift of renewed contact. I know that this circle of connection and reconnection, will surely make me look beyond the surprise of the moment to enjoy the deeper gift that this revelation brings.
All those dear ones are here for a reason and their names are engraved in my memory for a lifetime.
AMEN
I freshened up and set out for a walk, The night was beautiful and everything was freshly washed by the rain in the evening... The smell of wet mud was pushing me back in to my past and I was flipping my mental album, places and people were dominantly present in them, The experiences I shared with them, the emotions they evoked in me had me gripped in the past I began to miss some of my dear friends, my friends from School; my friend in high school through college, My colony friends in marredpally, then teenage friends and friends I hung out when I did some plays or a brief trek or a work shop or many many many such... SIGH
I read some where that we meet people for a reason a season and a lifetime... It is beyond choice, we are just attracted to that person because or in spite of what we think.
Every person that passes through our lives makes a contribution to our autobiographies. There are those who play large roles and make deep impressions, becoming full chapters of our autobiographies, but sometimes a brief special appearance worth mentioning in a page, before life takes them in another direction and yet they create a meaningful connection with us.
The world is full of more people we get more interested in them than the ones we already know, I strongly believe that we are often drawn to people with similar energy, which brings us together time and time again.
When we meet a person it is as if we have known him all our lives we shared similar life stories or lived just around the corner from each other but never met until now... That is fate bringing these people into our lives, there is always a reason.
They probably are here to pass on a message, to remind us of a part of ourselves we have forgotten to nurture. They might appear to give us a chance to react in a new way to an old situation. They may even bring up unresolved issues so that we may complete them, giving us the chance to move forward on our life path. They may never know what they bring into our lives, but the contact is a gift.
I had a strong urge to not just take up a old habit of walking in the quiet of the night but also to seek out my old friends. I went to bed with all these thoughts buzzing in my head and I dreamt of my dear friend Jaisi from high school, she named her daughter Vishnu, she loves me that much... Then how come I am unable to get back in touch... I don't know.
I associate some places with some people and all my plants are called by my friends names... My closest friends are in my bed room where as the rest of them are all in the rest of the house.
I don't know what these dreams mean But I know I am being given a message by the nature to rekindle my old relationships to use their appearance as an excuse to get in touch. to reach out to share the gift of renewed contact. I know that this circle of connection and reconnection, will surely make me look beyond the surprise of the moment to enjoy the deeper gift that this revelation brings.
All those dear ones are here for a reason and their names are engraved in my memory for a lifetime.
AMEN
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
My plants My babies !!!
Do you know the feeling of sitting around with just the plants for company and the only source of light is from the moon, and the cool breeze carrying the kisses blown by the plants ?
When I moved in to this apartment I brought the green soul into existence in a broken cup, a bucket and wine bottle, the plant in the bucket died on me; I cried, and I still feel sad that I neglected that baby... I don't know what happened.
You know I came to understand that there is a single soul that lives in all the plants, but has many hearts. Think in every house that has plants this green soul exists. I would always encourage my friends to have plants, I gifted my friend Leena a plant and she now has about 30 pots of various plants. That is what this soul does, it comes and multiplies it self as it wants more and more of the attention we can give it.
The green soul shows its affection to me by originating a new leaf in one of the plants. Or by sprouting roots on a plant that is completely dried up...
I have planted myself happiness in my balcony. I offer my prayers by serving the plants. they are my silver thread to the nature. Sometimes they help me symbolize the meaning of life and death, The harmony of relationships. The green soul teaches me lessons through its many forms... the slow but steady growth of Bamboos, the "take it easy at times" attitude of certain bulbs in winters, and How some Annuals broadcast seeds before they completely perish... there is a lesson in every pot, plant and leaf, in the difference one living thing, plant or person, can make, and how their presence resonates long after they're gone is a big lesson to me.
To tune into the divine timing of the gardening, is a form of meditation. Green soul resides with me.
When I moved in to this apartment I brought the green soul into existence in a broken cup, a bucket and wine bottle, the plant in the bucket died on me; I cried, and I still feel sad that I neglected that baby... I don't know what happened.
You know I came to understand that there is a single soul that lives in all the plants, but has many hearts. Think in every house that has plants this green soul exists. I would always encourage my friends to have plants, I gifted my friend Leena a plant and she now has about 30 pots of various plants. That is what this soul does, it comes and multiplies it self as it wants more and more of the attention we can give it.
The green soul shows its affection to me by originating a new leaf in one of the plants. Or by sprouting roots on a plant that is completely dried up...
I have planted myself happiness in my balcony. I offer my prayers by serving the plants. they are my silver thread to the nature. Sometimes they help me symbolize the meaning of life and death, The harmony of relationships. The green soul teaches me lessons through its many forms... the slow but steady growth of Bamboos, the "take it easy at times" attitude of certain bulbs in winters, and How some Annuals broadcast seeds before they completely perish... there is a lesson in every pot, plant and leaf, in the difference one living thing, plant or person, can make, and how their presence resonates long after they're gone is a big lesson to me.
To tune into the divine timing of the gardening, is a form of meditation. Green soul resides with me.
calvin again
Some people are pragmatists, taking things as they come and making the best of the choices available. Some people are idealists, standing for principle and refusing to compromise. And some people just act on any whim that enters their heads. I pragmatically turn my whims into principles!
Says CALVIN... I am so like him.
Says CALVIN... I am so like him.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sleep !!!
Its Monday morning and my shift changed from night to second. The first few days of the night shift it was sooo difficult for me to not fall asleep on my key board, And to be nice to people, to smile at the operators when I was imagining poking pencils in their eyes that my assistant leaves well sharpened in my office is a big Rorsharch test.
My assistant, Oh my GOD !!! if you knew the feeling of arriving at a junction hurriedly and the traffic light turning from green to orange... you know she is always in that mode, always rushing, its fun to watch her eat Ice cream. she is good at what she does, I am great full for what she does for me, yet, with her little girlie squeaky voice, and the traffic signal attitude is too much to handle when I am sleep deprived, and she really can bring out the lurking killer in me every night shift. Her unlimited enthusiasm to teach me to write Tamil and for me to correct her French makes me want to unsubscribe.
And to come back to this every night , after laying in the bed waiting to fall into a deep dark hole, a state of REM where no one hurts, remains only a dream, with the back drenched in sweat, Pepsi's bell in her neck ringing as she wanders around the house , door bell ringing, friends buzzing sms to make plans, Pepsi's barking, maid cleaning; All of that seems like TORTURE.
Nothing is in my control.
when you work at a certain level in a company its expected that you write your life off. well I did, in a way... I work close to 15 hours some times.
BUT
To write one's life off is easy BUT to write one's sleep off ???
Bah!!!
You must have already noticed that my mind just didn't wander off but totally left me...
Well all thanks to the shift that changed again, and am going through the same wretchedness taking me over as I didn't sleep enough neither on Saturday nor yesterday... the beautiful lunch and the hot ride up to work and the relief welcome softness of my chair, all this is making me Yawn and stretch making me ignore the usual 30,000,000,000,000,000 pages document I have to translate and to my fuzzy head it feels like a pile that's ever growing like mount Everest,
I have done 3 training sessions, and I had to constantly keep my temper in check, as any tiny thing which I normally won't even notice is triggering me off. My patience is wearing off.
My sleepless brain is looking at life through the magnifying glass blowing up the daemons under my bed. Well the side effects of sleep deprivation, eyes are ready to shut down anytime I allow them to. But the pressure of work where I have to divert my attention to do something else in order to not fall asleep, My body is unsteady.
GOD I just can give up everything for my sleep... I saw in a film how the police tortures the bad guy by not letting him sleep, he is given everything, food, water, bath, clean clothes BUT NO SLEEP...
If I were that interrogated prisoner, I would have given up all else for the sole desire of SLEEPING.
I now understand the look of bliss on the destitute s on the street even when their bodies are exposed to the world but they are enjoying absolute privacy behind their shut lids, cocooned in a world that is very VERY private.
I look at them longingly as I have experienced this desire and I can assure you not hunger or even thirst are comparable to SLEEP.
signing off...
woes of a Diurnal eyeritated creature.
My assistant, Oh my GOD !!! if you knew the feeling of arriving at a junction hurriedly and the traffic light turning from green to orange... you know she is always in that mode, always rushing, its fun to watch her eat Ice cream. she is good at what she does, I am great full for what she does for me, yet, with her little girlie squeaky voice, and the traffic signal attitude is too much to handle when I am sleep deprived, and she really can bring out the lurking killer in me every night shift. Her unlimited enthusiasm to teach me to write Tamil and for me to correct her French makes me want to unsubscribe.
And to come back to this every night , after laying in the bed waiting to fall into a deep dark hole, a state of REM where no one hurts, remains only a dream, with the back drenched in sweat, Pepsi's bell in her neck ringing as she wanders around the house , door bell ringing, friends buzzing sms to make plans, Pepsi's barking, maid cleaning; All of that seems like TORTURE.
Nothing is in my control.
when you work at a certain level in a company its expected that you write your life off. well I did, in a way... I work close to 15 hours some times.
BUT
To write one's life off is easy BUT to write one's sleep off ???
Bah!!!
You must have already noticed that my mind just didn't wander off but totally left me...
Well all thanks to the shift that changed again, and am going through the same wretchedness taking me over as I didn't sleep enough neither on Saturday nor yesterday... the beautiful lunch and the hot ride up to work and the relief welcome softness of my chair, all this is making me Yawn and stretch making me ignore the usual 30,000,000,000,000,000 pages document I have to translate and to my fuzzy head it feels like a pile that's ever growing like mount Everest,
I have done 3 training sessions, and I had to constantly keep my temper in check, as any tiny thing which I normally won't even notice is triggering me off. My patience is wearing off.
My sleepless brain is looking at life through the magnifying glass blowing up the daemons under my bed. Well the side effects of sleep deprivation, eyes are ready to shut down anytime I allow them to. But the pressure of work where I have to divert my attention to do something else in order to not fall asleep, My body is unsteady.
GOD I just can give up everything for my sleep... I saw in a film how the police tortures the bad guy by not letting him sleep, he is given everything, food, water, bath, clean clothes BUT NO SLEEP...
If I were that interrogated prisoner, I would have given up all else for the sole desire of SLEEPING.
I now understand the look of bliss on the destitute s on the street even when their bodies are exposed to the world but they are enjoying absolute privacy behind their shut lids, cocooned in a world that is very VERY private.
I look at them longingly as I have experienced this desire and I can assure you not hunger or even thirst are comparable to SLEEP.
signing off...
woes of a Diurnal eyeritated creature.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
It happened again !!!
Its the last week of my night shift and I am walking down my no electricity moon-lit street down to get an auto to get to work, its about 10 pm I just checked my Phone for time...
Whhhhaaaaaaaammmmmm !!!!!
A hard hand touched my left "stuff" a guy walking past me with his buddy took advantage of my being lost... he looked back to see my reactions, I stood there still frozen for a second, Then something came over me... DON'T KNOW what it was, BUT I ran behind to get him, picked a stone and hurled at him... my aim is not always great but some how this time it hit him... I FELT GOOD... VERY VERY GOOD. He was walking off faster and I yelled saying "stop him" a couple coming down that road on a bike stopped him and I RAN UP TO HIM. His companion abandoned him and vanished into one of the dark alleys.
All Alone his face pale, he must be 30, he was trembling like me... I slapped him first and pushed him down and kicked him again... I was getting more and more angry...SO MUCH VIOLENCE IN ME... God!!! I kicked him again...The by standing lady understood the situation and started yelling at him abusing him, guess she was using him as the object to get back to all those who tormented her in the past.
I was still burning where he had touched me earlier memories that I buried from the time I started to show signs of womanhood were buzzing out of the coffin and that was making me more and more ANGRY. I kept saying I'll kill you bastard if you ever touch AN OTHER WOMAN again. I kicked him again, with audience around me I was becoming more and more a MOB and I kicked where it hurts the most for guys. It FELT GOOD to hurt him.
It was time for me to calm down... I should not kill some one for touching me.. JUST TEACH HIM A STRONG ENOUGH LESSON... BUT WHY DID I WANT TO KILL HIM... I WAS ENRAGED. Thank god for the people around that he is alive.
I kicked him again in his face, for all my friends who got spat on by pan or were touched and every women who silently learnt to hunch to hide away from the street predators.
Its not the first time this happened to me, it happened to me a hundred times before... it happened in the darkness of the theaters in the crowded bazars, It feels like a mini rape, NOT PUNISHABLE BY THE LAW, SO IT is ENCOURAGING TO THESE SNEAKY SON OF BASKETS.
I have hit guys before; to be precise twice before...
BUT this evening I felt really really HURT that it just continues to be SAME in spite of the development around us, in spite of the MNC's and international exposure... and the screaming MEDIA about woman's liberation and all that.
I got very late to work... and couldn't give the reason for me being late. HEAVY WITH SHAME !!!
I sit here feeling a huge DISAPPOINTMENT.
AND
I don't know HOW TO STOP THESE GUYS from being mini rapists... I don't even know how to stop the auto guys who set their rear view mirrors to see my face and touch themselves, The medical shop guy, The water guy... I just feel like Punching them all in the face, and give them a bonus punch if they say anything about MY DRESSING BEING PROVOCATIVE... wish there was some way to show you all what I was wearing today. A PLANE SALWAR KAMEEZ with a DUPATTA that can cover 3 women.
I will hit all the guys who touch whats mine and mine alone with out MY permission. EVERY TIME. My Body is not the street wall that anyone can touch.
ITS A PROMISE TO MYSELF, GOD FORBID IF I SEE THIS HAPPEN AGAIN, NOT JUST TO ME BUT TO ANY WOMAN I'LL KILL THE GUY.
Whhhhaaaaaaaammmmmm !!!!!
A hard hand touched my left "stuff" a guy walking past me with his buddy took advantage of my being lost... he looked back to see my reactions, I stood there still frozen for a second, Then something came over me... DON'T KNOW what it was, BUT I ran behind to get him, picked a stone and hurled at him... my aim is not always great but some how this time it hit him... I FELT GOOD... VERY VERY GOOD. He was walking off faster and I yelled saying "stop him" a couple coming down that road on a bike stopped him and I RAN UP TO HIM. His companion abandoned him and vanished into one of the dark alleys.
All Alone his face pale, he must be 30, he was trembling like me... I slapped him first and pushed him down and kicked him again... I was getting more and more angry...SO MUCH VIOLENCE IN ME... God!!! I kicked him again...The by standing lady understood the situation and started yelling at him abusing him, guess she was using him as the object to get back to all those who tormented her in the past.
I was still burning where he had touched me earlier memories that I buried from the time I started to show signs of womanhood were buzzing out of the coffin and that was making me more and more ANGRY. I kept saying I'll kill you bastard if you ever touch AN OTHER WOMAN again. I kicked him again, with audience around me I was becoming more and more a MOB and I kicked where it hurts the most for guys. It FELT GOOD to hurt him.
It was time for me to calm down... I should not kill some one for touching me.. JUST TEACH HIM A STRONG ENOUGH LESSON... BUT WHY DID I WANT TO KILL HIM... I WAS ENRAGED. Thank god for the people around that he is alive.
I kicked him again in his face, for all my friends who got spat on by pan or were touched and every women who silently learnt to hunch to hide away from the street predators.
Its not the first time this happened to me, it happened to me a hundred times before... it happened in the darkness of the theaters in the crowded bazars, It feels like a mini rape, NOT PUNISHABLE BY THE LAW, SO IT is ENCOURAGING TO THESE SNEAKY SON OF BASKETS.
I have hit guys before; to be precise twice before...
BUT this evening I felt really really HURT that it just continues to be SAME in spite of the development around us, in spite of the MNC's and international exposure... and the screaming MEDIA about woman's liberation and all that.
I got very late to work... and couldn't give the reason for me being late. HEAVY WITH SHAME !!!
I sit here feeling a huge DISAPPOINTMENT.
AND
I don't know HOW TO STOP THESE GUYS from being mini rapists... I don't even know how to stop the auto guys who set their rear view mirrors to see my face and touch themselves, The medical shop guy, The water guy... I just feel like Punching them all in the face, and give them a bonus punch if they say anything about MY DRESSING BEING PROVOCATIVE... wish there was some way to show you all what I was wearing today. A PLANE SALWAR KAMEEZ with a DUPATTA that can cover 3 women.
I will hit all the guys who touch whats mine and mine alone with out MY permission. EVERY TIME. My Body is not the street wall that anyone can touch.
ITS A PROMISE TO MYSELF, GOD FORBID IF I SEE THIS HAPPEN AGAIN, NOT JUST TO ME BUT TO ANY WOMAN I'LL KILL THE GUY.
Lin Yutang
How many of us are able to distinguish between the odours of noon and midnight, or of winter and summer, or of a windy spell and a still one? If man is so generally less happy in the cities than in the country, it is because all these variations and nuances of sight and smell and sound are less clearly marked and lost in the general monotony of gray walls and cement pavements.
I love this quote !!!
I love this quote !!!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
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