Tranquilarium

Cotton

2010-08-13T11:37:00.002+05:30

I looked up at the sky today; looks like God's vanilla-flavoured cotton candy maker has gone out of control.

Email

2010-02-18T13:44:00.001+05:30

I send her email, and she replies to me from my computer.

Serendipity

2010-02-12T14:07:00.001+05:30

Serendipity is six feet of sheep's wool.

Life in Suggan Buggan

2009-11-24T11:40:00.003+05:30

So...I was reading this book by Bill Bryson called Down Under, and came across a list of places, which Bryson says, are all real locations in Australia. Not taking Bryson at his word, I ran searches on a few of them just to confirm. Turns out Bryson's right. How are these for some fantastic names of towns: Wee Waa, Poowong, Burrumbuttock, Suggan Buggan, Boomahnoomoonah, Waaia, Mullumbimby, Ewlyamartup, Jiggalong and Tittybong. I can imagine introducing myself as 'David from Burrumbuttock', or talking about my town, Tittybong, and getting slapped for acting fresh!

These hills have horses

2009-06-05T11:37:00.004+05:30

The other day I saw three horses ganging up against a lone motorcycle, and harassing it, much to the chagrin of the owner. Some difference of opinion about horsepower, I reckon.

Santa Claus

2008-12-22T13:20:00.002+05:30

Calvin: Well. I've decided I do believe in Santa Claus, no matter how preposterous he sounds.
Hobbes: What convinced you?
Calvin: A simple risk analysis. I want presents. Lots of presents. Why risk not getting them over a matter of belief? Heck, I'll believe anything they want.
Hobbes: How cynically enterprising of you.
Calvin: It's the spirit of Christmas.

~Calvin and Hobbes strip by Bill Watterson

The truth about Cecilia

2008-11-03T14:46:00.005+05:30

I guess some know this already, but yeah, the whole thing was a lovely, lovely dream...the most realistic one I've had in a while. The name was suggested by my friend, who felt 'Cecilia' suited the character. Interestingly, I bought a flute recently, which says Cecilia on it. I hope that's not all my dream signified...kissing the flute, as I must, to play upon it.

Warangal - A study (Part -2)

2008-11-01T00:58:00.002+05:30

No visit to Warangal is complete without a visit to Pakhal (sp?), around 40km away. This is a wildlife sanctuary, comprising a large and beautiful lake surrounded by forest. Our chauffeur to Pakhal could have put champion rally driver Sebastian Loeb to shame, if he could only restrain himself from opening his door while driving at 80km/h, TO SPIT! The hair-raising drive ended with our chauffeur nearly killing a very confused man, who had decided to take shelter in the middle of the road, and then abusing him verbally. (Personally, I think that chap would’ve preferred being run over).

So, the road practically ends at the top of a hill bordering the lake. It’s a pretty wild and desolate place, except when there are laoveyrs, of course. And then there are the ruins…these appear relatively new. What are these ruins, we ask. "Naxalites. They blew up this guesthouse a while ago." Our chauffeur also casually mentions that it would be unwise to walk too far away, as wild animals are bound to be around, as could be Naxals. Really, why didn’t anyone think we needed to know this BEFORE we got to this place? Nevertheless, the hour or so spent at Pakhal was, despite it being hot, very enjoyable. (That’s excluding the time that the monkeys screamed obscenities at us, of course).

I have kept the matter of the menu for last. I have promised not to name the restaurant, as my travel companion would that Warangal retain a modicum of self respect with regard to the printing of menus for restaurants, which otherwise offer incredibly good food.

Cocktail Anitha (Lucky girl)
Chef’s special – cashewnuts (Why? What does he do to these cashewnuts? Questions best left unanswered)
Contenses soup (All I can say is, WHAT???)
Beazing salad (It is just possible that this could mean Beijing, but then, when was the last time you had a Beijing Salad?)
Veg/chk dumbling (chicken with low IQ?)
Spl loose prawns
Bread butter jaam
Curd vada – summer only (Clearly they have a vada chef coming in during the summer months…they really didn’t have it in October)
Fish fry bones (Fancy paying money for this! Makes one wonder if this menu caters to cats, actually)
Chilly chicken bones
Yoga fish (The fittest fish in the ocean – very supple)
Chicken mushroom large wet (I can only assume that this means it’s a gravy)
American Chaupsy
Butterscrotch ice cream (I will refrain from getting into details here)
Hot chocolate Sunday (Bad luck if you get here on any other day)
Caramel Custurd (Again, the less said the better)
Water Milan – seasonal (The rains are clearly not sufficient)

Warangal - A study (Part -1)

2008-11-01T00:57:00.001+05:30

So then, my recent trip to Warangal has been a learning experience for me. Especially on the language front. Strangely enough, I think my experiences have taught me to tighten my hold on my inability with Hindi. But I digress, so back to Hyderabad, and Warangal.

Anyway, my trip to Warangal started early on a chilly (yes, it was actually chilly in Hyderabad) Sunday morning at the Secunderabad railway station. Lesson #1: When travelling a day before Diwali, it might be a tad difficult getting a ticket on a train; it is, in fact, highly unlikely that you will even get to a decent position on the serpentine que. But thank God for the ‘separate que for ladies’ concept.

After missing the originally intended train, we did manage the subsequent train to Warangal for what was, for the most part, a nice and uneventful journey (except the part where I asked a chap about giving us confirmed seats, only to be asked, with a condescending smile, to check with the ticket examiner. He looked like one, I swear!). During the journey I even saw a tree beautifully decorated with egrets.

Lesson #2: Confirming beforehand whether a train actually stops where you ‘hope’ it will stop is a good idea. We came fairly close to getting off the train a station earlier than we should have, just because we trusted the duration of the journey more than the board which said ‘Kazipet’ in bold. The two days in Warangal went by rather blissfully, and a tad too quickly, I might add. We did a whole gamut of things there, from really old ruins, a fort, a 1000-pillared temple and a cateen (sic).

The one common factor at all these places were the lovers (pronounced laoveyrs), who sit together, oblivious to the roasting sun, oblivious to the multitude, and oblivious to two non-Warangalites, who were very obviously passing sarcastic, and unromantic remarks. We made some scientific observations here…the guy always has his head up. He is obviously looking out for unwanted company. The girl is always looking at the ground. This could be (a) a coy gesture, a trap of sorts, or (b) considering the places that such laoveyrs are to be found, the girl keeps an eye out for creepy crawlies that might perchance decide to travel north, up the guy’s trouser legs.

Too much of a good thing can, and will get to you in the end. For instance, there’s so much to see in these ruins, so many steps to climb up and down, that it fairly got to a chap in a red shirt. We saw him finish with the ruins and start climbing up a water tank next. It really does happen. It was in Warangal that I realised I could, at times, have an incredibly blank look on my face (smart alecks STFU!). Chappie with a camera spoke to me rapidly in Telugu. Of course, he changed the moment he sensed his Telugu bounce right off. Oh he changed alright, to Hindi…yeah, that helped…to quote Borat, “NOT”! While on this topic of not understanding, there’s something I really didn’t get…here was this children’s park, which had a statue of a naked man, seated on the grass, with a rocket between his legs. No really, I swear it, a real rocket. I even have a photo of this sculpture. (Ladies, we’re currently taking orders for copies of this remarkable photo).

Nature

2008-06-10T23:51:00.003+05:30

I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun!

~ Emily Dickinson

Cecilia

2008-05-28T01:39:00.004+05:30

Cecilia joined me, as I was reclining, reading a book. I turned around and looked at her…petite, short-haired Cecilia, I absolutely adored her. I've never known a girl as cute as her; even in her ways Cecilia is cute. She sat close by my side, on my left, and tucked her arm under mine, as we both read the same book in that quiet comfort that only two friends can share. It was still and cold, as it always is in the mountains.

It was then. It was then that Cecilia half-turned on her side, and brought her face next to mine. It brought her closer to me, and I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort from her nearness. I hadn't realised that she was looking at me, I was still reading. She kissed my lips, with much tenderness. This was the moment then, when very good friends sometimes transcend. We kissed.

I was filled with warmth, and there was that sense of too much happiness, which leaves one breathless. It could've been Cecilia's kiss as well, as I'm sure I must have stopped breathing, lest the moment should pass. I was suddenly very aware of Cecilia's love for me, and how much I loved her. The kiss seemed to last forever, and I didn't want forever to end. I was in love.

Happiness

2008-04-30T01:53:00.005+05:30

Earlier this evening, I experienced the difference between what is logical, and what makes one happy. I packed my rain jacket, and rode out into the rain.

If thoughts were flowers...

2008-04-22T02:29:00.007+05:30

The other day on my way to work, a jacaranda flower fell from a tree, and on me. I guess that meant you were thinking of me. The flower stayed with me, long enough to make me smile. Perhaps you had smiled too.

Sense of self

2008-03-28T01:37:00.002+05:30

"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks, is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever, to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are, can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee, but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino."

~ Joe Fox (You've got mail).

Yachts

2008-03-10T01:02:00.000+05:30

I go through my life like a sail yacht in the ocean - small, vulnerable and yet sailing on, at the mercy of the wind and the waves. The yacht has, at best, limited control over the winds that propel it. Every once in a while, a favourable wind blows two yachts together. Eventually, the winds will change, and when they do, the yachts will go their separate ways.

I will always be thankful for these favourable winds, no matter what the consequence; for though the yachts do sail away, life is never the same again.

Time

2008-02-16T00:28:00.001+05:30

"We are thankful for the time we have been given." ~ The Village

In recent times, I have come to appreciate this statement much. Not just in the context of death, but in life as well. Perhaps it is just me, but I have begun seeing people and relationships as time-bound entities. All things change - situations and circumstances change, attitudes change, people change. Perhaps the quality of life itself would be enriched if one were conscious of this, that this time that we have been given, is surely passing us by.

"Did you know that tears run in rivulets
And hearts can repeatedly break?
And this may well be the last time
If my spirits don't pick up and fly
For though it's sad
It may well be true
That our time is passing us by."

~ Joan Baez (Time is passing us by)

The Sea

2008-01-21T22:43:00.000+05:30

"The sea is everything...Its breath is pure and healthy...It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides...It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the 'Living Infinite'...In it is supreme tranquillity...The sea does not belong to despots. Upon its surface men can still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to pieces, and be carried away with terrestrial horrors. But at thirty feet below its level, their reign ceases, their influence is quenched, and their power disappears...There only is independence! There I recognise no masters! There I am free!"

~ Jules Verne (Twenty thousand leagues under the sea)

Photographs

2008-01-21T20:40:00.000+05:30

If I could go back in time 32 years, for another shot at life, I would like to be better prepared. Nothing profound, just the knowledge that I will, one day, cherish every moment I have lived, and the people I have lived with.

An ultra-conscious conscience

2007-12-20T18:42:00.000+05:30

Only those of us absolutely pure in heart, can lay claim to a subconscience.

My Sunshine

2007-12-14T18:24:00.000+05:30

He sings you are my sunshine
and the skies are grey, she tries
to make him happy, things
just turn out that way.

She'll never know
how much he loves her
and yet he loves her so much
he might lay down his old guitar
and walk her home, musician
singing with the voice alone.

Oh love is sweet and love is all, it's
evening and the purple shadows fall
about the baby and the toddler
on the bed. It's true he loves her
but he should have told her,
he should have, should have said.

Foolish evening, boy with a foolish head.
He sighs like a flower above his instrument
and his sticky fingers stick. He fumbles
a simple chord progression,
then stares at the neck.
He never seems to learn his lesson.

Here comes the rain. Oh if she were only
sweet sixteen and running from the room again,
and if he were a blackbird
he would whistle and sing
and he'd something
something something something.

~ Bill Manhire

Sleeping With You

2007-12-13T01:38:00.000+05:30

Is there anything more wonderful?
After we have floundered
through our separate pain

we come to this. I bind myself to you,
like otters wrapped in kelp, so the current
will not steal us as we sleep.

Through the night we turn together,
rocked in the shallow surf,
pebbles polished by the sea.

~ Ellen Bass

The Thing is...

2007-12-03T01:52:00.000+05:30

The Thing is...

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

~ Ellen Bass

Abs

2007-11-19T14:41:00.000+05:30

I have a six-pack too...it's just packed differently.

Shooting stars

2007-11-12T00:22:00.000+05:30

Do shooting stars and crabs have a racket going? I was in Goa recently, and was sitting on the beach one night with my friend, trying to catch a shooting star. It was all very serene and beautiful, and I was being lulled into a sense of absolute peace. Just about then, this rather large crab decided to burrow out to the surface from right underneath me. Believe me, it is not a very comforting thought when a crab tries to get out from under you, and you are wearing minimalist clothing. At the very least, you feel rather vulnerable. The first indication I had that anything was amiss, was a big crab nudging my backside with its claws. "Would you kindly move your butt out of my way?" I am a brave enough man, but I draw the line at my bottom coming in contact with the business end of a crab's claws. My jungle yell understandably brought proceedings to an early end.

Blame monger

2007-11-12T00:00:00.000+05:30

I would like to be able to blame someone else, just once, for the misfortunes that occur in my life, and to be completely convinced that it is all their fault. I reckon that must be rather therapeutic :-) Unfortunately, what does happen is that I mess up, over and over again, and with incredible clarity, am able to see, eventually, how I have messed it all up, all the time. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever learn. Like someone said, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression."

The Architect - II

2007-11-06T23:44:00.000+05:30

I build my castles very well. I use a fair bit of truth for the foundations; I strengthen the ramparts with a strong mix of kindness and gentleness; love lights up my chandeliers; why, I even have a protective coat of hope on the outside, to shield it from the elements. Yet, following heavy showers of reality, some parts of my beautiful castle get damaged. I have spent a lot of emotion to repair my castle. I just don't understand.

Holding on

2007-10-31T14:49:00.000+05:30

It is far easier to let go, than it is to hold on. It is, sometimes, worth holding on just that bit longer.

Words of wisdom

2007-10-30T17:16:00.000+05:30

"From the mouth of babes come words of wisdom." I happened to come across such wisdom recently. I especially loved the tone in which this particular wise little baby told me - "Only bad people smoke."

Tales of hunger

2007-10-29T14:54:00.000+05:30

"If your heart is full, you don't feel that hungry," said Swami Tejomayananda. My heart is not full, ergo I am hungry. In the end, no matter how life twists and turns, one never forgets the person who refused them food. Especially, one that is responsible both for the state of the heart, and the hunger.

Butterflies

2007-10-29T01:24:00.000+05:30

Chase a butterfly with a net, and it constantly, and tantalisingly, always stays a step ahead of you. But wait amidst beautiful flowers and be still, and the butterfly will come to you. There is, of course, the possibility that it may not settle on you after all. But such is life, and love.

The Architect

2007-10-20T22:54:00.000+05:30

What's my profession, you ask?
Why, I'm an architect...I build castles in the air.
Come, talk to me. Perhaps I can build one for you as well.

Running away

2007-09-26T19:11:00.000+05:30

You can run away from most things in this world, but you can never outrun your mind.

Name of dog witheld for privacy

2007-08-20T14:12:00.000+05:30

My neighbour's dog, usually a rather unfriendly critter (he barks at me like I'm a thief whenever he sees me outside my room), displayed a rather human-like side today. He usually likes to sun himself on the open landing between the first and second floors, and has, on more than one occassion popped up to check on things on my floor.

Today, I was typing away on the laptop (I'm working from home today) and the door was open. As usual, he came walking by and peeped into the open doorway. The moment I saw him, I swear he had a very embarassed look on his face, the kind we humans have upon inadvertently peeping into someone's house and being caught at it. The next second, he beat a hasty retreat. Pity, for had he stayed a second longer, he would have seen me laughing heartily at his plight. David - 1; Dog - 0.

Life

2007-08-13T11:52:00.000+05:30

Life is all about choices and consequences.

Birds of a feather

2007-03-05T13:26:00.000+05:30

I’d just gotten back from Coimbatore that morning, so for a change I was up to watch the sun rise. I was sitting outside on the terrace, languid, in the cool and still morning air, with the sun pleasantly warm on my right cheek. It was then that I distinctly felt that I was not alone…and I was not. I looked to my right and he turned to his left, at about the same time I suppose - a rather adolescent-looking crow, sitting two feet from me on the clothesline.

Now, crows normally scoot the moment you look at them. They are supposed to be rather crafty and watchful all the time. Well, not this trusting soul. I looked at him and he looked at me and all of a sudden, there we were, sharing a moment. This was the closest I’d been to a crow, and what with sharp beaks and all, I was a mite uneasy…not him. It was like a scene out of a western, two gun fighters staring down each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

And move, he did - seems to me he had some sort of identity crisis, for at that moment, he did exactly what dogs normally do. A dog sits looking at you and then, as if to figure you out better, he tilts his head to one side. Well, that’s what my crow pal did too, tilted his head and continued to look at me. In the end, we decided we had better get to the duties of the day…I got up, so did he, and we parted rather amicably.

Silver

2006-07-07T17:07:00.000+05:30

It is quite an unreal feeling, to stand on my terrace under the moonlight. It is almost like I have forgotten what it is like to look up into a moonlit sky and see so many stars. The dark silhouette of the trees surround me and the leaves whisper in the cold breeze; almost like they are too cold to rustle and choose to whisper instead. It is magical. In the midst of the city, I feel like I am the only one standing, bathed in the moonlight, listening to the insects chirping, watching large bats go floating by in space and little ones flitting in and out of the trees. Perhaps I am the only one. It is almost like being in a forest at night; but for a few fireflies, I might be convinced. I am reminded so much of the poem 'Silver' by Walter De La Mare. Standing here reminds me of my childhood days, before the cities became too bright.

Perhaps nothing has changed. Perhaps I am still a child: I still know nothing; I still do not know what my future will bring; I still have no idea how to deal with pain - can do nothing to help myself, save wait for time to heal me. Even surrounded by so much beauty, I still feel an emptiness. Like something could be better; something is missing perhaps. Do people not always wish they had someone with whom to enjoy the beauty of the moon, rising from among the trees? Someone to hold and be held and feel warm in the cold breeze? Someone who perceives the beauty of the night exactly as you do? Pipe dream! I should know better now. I am alone. I feel lonely and cold.

Arboreal

2006-05-11T00:29:00.000+05:30

It was a place of happiness. The strong branches with their dense leaves had harboured so many different families in their embrace. On many, many occassions, a plump myna has stood on the branch closest to my office window and has done the bird version of the soap box speech. On other occassions, the same myna has stood on that very branch and screeched at me, appearing to admonish me for wasting my time sitting within four walls and only looking at such greenery and the mild drizzle of rain bathing it just a few feet away. It was a wonderful feeling to be around this tree especially in the monsoon, and the soothing, hushed sound of raindrops caressing the leaves was beautiful music.

The tree was home to squirrels as well. The constant strife between the squirrels and crows that shared the branches kept me entertained through long workdays. It was among these branches that I've seen the dexterity of the nimble squirrels, as the frisky little creatures hung on to branches with only their fore limbs as they ran around the very edge of the branches. There have been so many times when I've literally 'willed' the mynas to build a nest in one of the branches. I'm glad now that they had plans of their own. I wish these happy times could have lasted.

This whole happy picture literally came crashing down in all of half a day. In just one morning progress overcame happiness. The last vestiges of their magnificence came crashing down. I wish trees were like buildings; one could start building and end up with such a wonderful tree as the one that stood next to me on the other side of the wall. Even the beehive on top of the tall tree wasn't spared. Bees buzzed in their smoky stupor as their hive, now reduced to a great ball of fire, came crashing down from the heights. Just now a bee has been buzzing around near me, perhaps looking for a place to start afresh; but no, he's turned and left in disgust - living in an air conditioner just doesn't compare to the tall, stately mansion he's used to, where the sun warms, the gentle breezes cool and the music of the rain continues to float around the leaves. Its raining now. I miss my friend.