Monday, November 29, 2010

A Song and a Sketch

Metallica is a household name. Well, almost! Or at least it would be from the generation here on! Most of us are born and brought up on Metallica. Most of you will agree on this. I have already spoken about my love for Metallica here, here and here.

In 1997, Metallica released the album ReLoad. That album had a song called Fixxxer. Beautiful song. One of the classic Bluesy Hard Rock style that Metallica adopted from their another good album Load. The song fits in with the other classics and my personal favourites like Bleeding Me, The Outlaw Torn and Thorn Within.

The song Fixxxer has some lovely lines:

Dolls of voodoo all stuck with pins
One for each of us and our sins
So you lay us in a line
Push your pins they make us humble
Only you can tell in time
If we fall or mearly stumble


Can you heal what father's done?
Or cut this rope and let us run?
Just when all seems fine
And I'm pain free
You jab another pin
Jab another pin in me

Now with these lines in mind, check the following sketch that Shreyas has drawn. It was done with pencil and paper. Beautiful picture and heartening, rather haunting, expressions.

This is one of my favourite sketches. I hope Shreyas keeps drawing such amazing sketches.

That's all i got to say.

Thursday, November 25, 2010


"Everyone grows up and everyone is weird in their own way!"

"But then, you are not weird."

"Actually, I am. It's just that you don't find me weird, or maybe you like my weirdness!"

The Amulet Of Samarkand

So what is the secret behind the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the mystery of Atlantis, the magic in the ancient flying magic carpets, or the reason why people think that horseshoe has some sort of a magical charm? And what if one book answers all these questions for you? If you are interested to know, go and grab your copy of The Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan Stroud.

This book has an amazing story-line, beautiful descriptions, and impressive characterization. I came across this book very late, but like they say 'Der aaye par durust aaye'.

And oh well, there is the cynically sarcastic yet adorable, Bartimaeus. What a fabulous character. One of my all time favourite!

Definitely recommended.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The More Loving One - W.H.Auden

I came across this lovely poem by W.H.Auden 'The More Loving One'. Its sublimely beautiful!

The More Loving One

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total darkness sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

- W.H. Auden

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Words for things incomplete

A whole lot of text must have been written or is written, to describe or dedicate to the love that could have been, the feelings that could have been extended, the dreams that could have been livelier.

Things are so esoteric that they make sense to the person who knows that the lines are just written for him or her. For others, it is just another romantic poem or a sad verse. Mostly, a sad verse.

There would always be the urge in people who wish to convey their feelings to the one's they miss a lot. They would always find interpretations, comparisons from the nature around. Be it monsoon, lovely alleys, coffee shops, memories of midnight, that familiar sound of laughter, songs, movies, books... Oh that is almost everything under the blue sky! It is very true though.

But the objective of this literature, if it can be called an objective as such, is a reaction from someone, somewhere... who do you want that someone to be?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Kid me not...

Twitter is a fantastic place to find amazing writers. Some of these guys write really nice posts that you can associate with. Daddy San is one such writer. He blogs here.

His two recent posts were about Kids and them growing up part. Check this lovely post 'No Kidding' and 'How many children do you have?'.

I liked them. Maybe you will too.

Update: In the comments section of No Kidding, another writer shared another lovely post - Found in Translation.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Unfairy Tale

So, Goldilocks was saved. She almost fell to a trap set by Little Bear from the Bears. Of course Mama Bear and Papa Bear were not really interested in Goldilocks. They had their gaming console to lure them. Little tried his best. He was a hard working fellow in his own eyes. He was Alexander when he wanted to, Napolean when he wanted, and even Tom Cruise when he felt like. His real name was Narcissist, but he thought that even that name didn't justify what greatness he felt about himself. Little was full of himself. Actually overflowing.

Going back. Goldilocks was looking for a temporary rented house. She had flunked college and her parents had thrown her out of the house. She did approach Snow White, Rapunzel and even Cindrella but all of them turned her town. They all thought that she was too naive. They all thought that her past was more colourful than theirs. Strange, since naive and adventure might not always go together. But she was Goldilocks. Rumours surrounded her like dwarfs around Snow White. Goldilocks then had showed them the hand gesture and had approached the Bears. So much for naivety.

Papa was really happy to receive her. He had a room to spare in the garage and was on a lookout some source of money to feed his gaming addiction. Mama didn't care. As long as the money kept flowing Papa's pockets and the whiskey in her glass, all she wanted was the bestselling video games. Little was apprehensive. He was growing up and that age is such that boys are afraid of every good looking girl. Oh yes. Goldilocks was very good looking. In a geeky sort of a way. Dark hair (dyed), spectacles, athletic figure and very fine lips. She kept herself that way. Little took time to digest this fact. Especially when he came to know that she wanted to purse a career in music. Every rock band that he adored, she knew by heart. She knew band-member names, songs, lyrics even the context behind the songs. Little was afraid of her. Yes afraid of her more for the fact that she had all the ways to entice him and he was just like the dust in front of the vacuum cleaner, waiting to be pulled.

Goldilocks never liked Little. She always wanted to stay away from him. Her experiences in the past had told her that boys are never to be trusted. For goodness sake! Even Little knew that he cannot trust himself!

Goldilocks and Little did not share a love-hate relationship. They were just like two thorns on a tree. Facing away from each other, sharp and always ready to prick. Yet they co-existed. Little, for all this childhood that went astray, started liking Goldilocks a little. A little would be an overstatement. Little always did things large.

Little had a friend named Johnny. Good looking chap. The way that makes girls swoon. Little confided in Johnny. Johnny laughed a little. Little laughed a lot. Boys. Who knows what goes on in their mind.

Goldilocks despised Johnny. She told Little about this. About the fact that she found Johnny too pretentious. Little felt happy. He started liking her a little more just because she despised Johnny. Boys. You never know what triggers their feelings.

Then this one day happened. Goldilocks and Little went for Johnny's birthday party. There was a lot of alcohol flowing in that party, and music. Everybody got high and started dancing. Goldilocks danced really well. She was very sensual. Her moves spread over Little's little drowsy senses, like tentacles. He wanted to take advantage of her. That night.

He approached Johnny. Johnny had already used up his pills on other neighborhood girls, except for one. That little pill that he had saved for Goldilocks. Little knew about the pills. He pushed Johnny to give the pill to him. They struck a deal. They will do turns on Goldilocks.

Plan set, they had moved swiftly. Mixed the one all important pill in a glass of vodka and orange juice. Little moved towards Goldilocks. She was lost in the acid trance that blasted from the speakers. Little offered her his glass.

"What's this orange drink?"

"Vodka. I thought you would like a break."

"Oh Little. Grow up. I always drink Whiskey. Didn't you notice till now?"

Little was little aghast. Mistakes aren't to be made like this. Little should have thought about it. Boys. Hormones just take over logic at times.

So much for naivety.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Some lovely verses that i read...

I stumbled upon this page: Are bars even a good thing? and the lines are so lovely. Totally gripped me. Here are a few lines:

You sing a song
The right song plays the wrong lyrics
And the man in a corner, he looks sadder
Heads bob in the middle
Tomorrow they will not remember
How happy they were
But, today sleep comes easy.

Short Story - The Whore of Mensa

Came across this detective short story:

The Whore of Mensa.

Check it out. Fabulous read.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Diwali shopping scenes

It was a busy Laxmi road with more moving handbags on the footpath than people. Probably the handbags moved faster than people! There were people rushing from shop to shop, looking to buy gifts for family, friends and themselves. The street was brimming with the festive atmosphere with loads of hope filled on the street.

Scene one: Popcorns

A little kid about 3-4 years old was scurrying across holding his mother with one hand and a little fistful popcorns with the other. Of course, he was concentrating more on the popcorns than anything else. What would a little kid care for more than what he has at hand? Maybe he got that after some hard time parent-convincing. Maybe he was given that as a reward for behaving like a nice boy while the elders shopped and shopped. The kid was totally engrossed. A universe within another universe. It did bring a smile.

Scene two: Chana Chor Garam

A woman was standing on the little space available on the footpath with her little assortment of the Chana Chor Garam ingredients. The entire assortment attracts everyone's mind. The taste and fun that comes along eating Chana chor in a small conical paper cup. For some it is nostalgic, for some just something to eat. Some meaning from it for everyone. But it was something else for the lady who was selling it. She was engrossed with the little pinch of tobacco, secreting nicotine between lips and gums, probably helping her survive the fast moving world. She used to take orders, prepare them skillfully and pass across. When your world stops to eat the Chana Chor, her world moves to prepare it for you.

Several such scenes flashed across... Maybe another post if the memories strengthen. Maybe.

Till then, let the kid be happy with this popcorns, parents with shopping, the lady with her Diwali earnings and all in all festive wishes to you and everyone.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Did you Dream

So a long day turned to a night. A night full of dreams of nature.

Did you dream of the half moonlit sky above while walking on the mountains with the wind rushing in your senses? A dream so profound that you could feel the night singing compositions to you right from the ravines of the untrespassed earth. An experience where at every step you could feel that your are walking towards anonymity along with the other beings in the night. With a continuous feeling that the smiling moon is watching over you as a vigilante, to make sure you are safe and not alone yet leaving a creepy feeling. You felt as if the moon was smiling since it knew the night better than you saw the day.

It smiled at when you got acclimatised to the smell of the trampled grass and when you suddenly got aware of the deviation in that time-friendly smell. The smell that suddenly disappeared to make you aware of all the vegetation and the changes. "Hark, things change in the darkness", said the moon, smiling ever so lightly as you kept on walking, crossing mountain after another towards the end of the night.

You stopped for a second just to feel the chill in the air and chilly it was! Chilly but soothing your beating pulse, your pushing heart so that the rest refreshened you to continue the journey. Did you dream that the torches that your companions carried made a mosaic of lights that seemed like fireflies in the night? That the long trail of torches behind you gave you a dragon like tail? A tail that kept you company into the night?

Did you feel the earth glowing a little as hours turned towards the final minutes of your walk? Slightly grey and then a blue hue? Raising your hope further for the blue sky? Did you then sit and watch the sun rise to slowly awaken your senses from the dream of your night?

Did you dream this dream as I walked this path?