Sep 18, 2009
Aug 24, 2009
Aug 16, 2009
stage freight
Yes she speaks through the veil of anonymity
as the world around her revolves in their chaos
in their untimely exits and uninterrupted cues
screams of pleasure and pangs of discomfort
soaked in pathos of everyday trifles
they hear but seldom listen,
they talk but barely speak,
and silence?
How they never understood!
Raindrops tickle only the naked flesh
And not cloaks stitched out of expensive gifts
Shadows form light of their own
Emanated from the holy light of oneself
oh how they muster it
Though closed fists and careless glances
And laugh- that mocks its own dissonance
The stage is lit once again
-provided she gets to perform-.
as the world around her revolves in their chaos
in their untimely exits and uninterrupted cues
screams of pleasure and pangs of discomfort
soaked in pathos of everyday trifles
they hear but seldom listen,
they talk but barely speak,
and silence?
How they never understood!
Raindrops tickle only the naked flesh
And not cloaks stitched out of expensive gifts
Shadows form light of their own
Emanated from the holy light of oneself
oh how they muster it
Though closed fists and careless glances
And laugh- that mocks its own dissonance
The stage is lit once again
-provided she gets to perform-.
Aug 12, 2009
Amelie poulain
A butterfly flew out of the screen, scattering crimson hues of the lambent sky. Her magic potion transcends you to a celestial orchestra, performed by a zillion enthusiastic stars. You’re serenaded in their craft; you’re soaked in her colour. But it only lasts for 122 minutes. Ask Jean Paul Jeunette why?
The fabulous destiny of Amelie Poulian offers a boulevard of sights and sounds. Its strength lies in its incredible ability to move the audience in extravagant frames of simple nuances. An ordinary tale becomes a fable as an ordinary girl plays the role of a neighborhood cherub. Incidentally that is.
Amelie is brought up in the grief-struck environs of her nonchalant father. She is forced to spend her life in the confines of loneliness, just when hope meets her in an unsolicited treasure box. She gives in to her instincts and decides to trace its bearer. The spirit of mankind beguiles her to help the needy around. Amelie then finds her smiles floating on the ebb and flow of universe’s woe. She is rewarded with love wrapped in joys of companionship.
The music of the film intensifies its sensual experience. The piano impeccably gauges the mood of the film. Mellow in few scenes, gregarious in some. The soundtrack by Yan Tiersen brews a plethora of emotions. Dull yet reflective, gentle yet powerful, it compels you to plunge into the realms of the character. It’s when her conundrum becomes yours and her strife begins to taste mildly sweet.
It’s not the first time when the director has left his audience quivering in awe. The film bears the subtle tone of his earlier works Delicatessen and City of Lost Children. He cleverly uses the comical device he introduced in his film Foutaises; a sing-song narration of he likes/she likes. The editing unfailingly transforms vital scenes to a set of individual artifacts. Cinematographic dexterity gleams through the introductory scenes of the primary characters, including an angora cat.
Life and its complexity whispers through simple yet eccentric imagery. Eccentric being the operational word here. “A sperm with an X chromosome belonging to Rapheal Poulain made a dash for an egg with his wife Amadine and Amelie is born”
Audrey Tautou(playing Amelie) carries the weight of the film in her elfin eyes, setting a sky-high benchmark for her acting prowess. In her foreign syllables she appears profoundly familiar, sketching the character through per plum cheeks and facial lines.
The film overall is a multi-sensorial indulgence. It induces us to see the world through a fair dash of fantasy, soft strokes of imagination and a lot of hope. voila! A recipe for la vie en rose.
prologue
One look at all those stern, disapproving eyes and he froze,gripped by panic. He felt a chunk of coal burning in his pocket one after another. Drops of sweat tricked down his forehead like beads of a necklace pulled out effortlessly. He was drenched in the conscience of his own crime. But it was too late. Very soon, the jaws of justice would wither him into the abyss of absence.
Anticipating death is hugely different from looking it in the eye. Kazoo realized it today. Wasn’t it so much better to have been shot by the black commandos, having left no time for guilt to back-fire? He had known the answer. The visuals of the ravaged building, which had dodged him for long, were being played repeatedly now. A terrorist has somewhat began to feel the terror…
Anticipating death is hugely different from looking it in the eye. Kazoo realized it today. Wasn’t it so much better to have been shot by the black commandos, having left no time for guilt to back-fire? He had known the answer. The visuals of the ravaged building, which had dodged him for long, were being played repeatedly now. A terrorist has somewhat began to feel the terror…
Aug 11, 2009
my first week in ACJ
He greeted me through a pair of rusty eyes, with the panache of a seasoned steward. He was warm but hardly affectionate. Without wasting time on the conventional introductions, he frisked towards the college building. Meanwhile I poked him with a set of questions on how he found the place, are people rude to him, how nasty are the professors. He remained skillfully silent. As we passed a faintly resembling eatery, I asked him if he had adjusted to the food. He looked back and barked.
He is Cuckoo, the college-residential dog who is now a great pal or do I say the only great pal I have. We became friends whining about our daily dining. He told me he looked garishly suave four-months ago when he absconded from his place of birth. To me, he looked multiple shades darker than the dogs I had been with in Delhi. He was severely lanky for his age and breed. He told me he had lost 7 kg’s since then. i obviously believed him.
Like me, he was petrified of intellectual dogs. And here we found them in abundance, in all shapes and sizes, and fairly uniform colour. Establishing a classroom outside their own, under a lone standing tree. Thankfully, there is only one tree. They talked about the artillery of Che Guevera while we raved about the culinary of colonel Sandlers. They lamented about global pricing of crude oil, we hoped for an increase in the price of coconut oil (we bathed in).
I was more unfortunate than cuckoo when it came to suffering. Dogs were not allowed inside the hostel. Or should I say canine of the IQ equivalent to Cuckoo's. Rules were laid, highly atypical of what one associates with hostel. “kindly flush the pot after excreting” “ensure that buckets are filled with water at all times”, my roomates . People quarreled over the colour of mugs, for it had to match that of the bucket. This fixation with sanitary was to do with the lack of it. We faced water-shortage on the second day and therefore refrained from throwing spitballs at each other.
To prevent extinction of my wits, i entertained my roomies in a funny tamil accent I had unknowingly acquired. aiyaaaoh! free Kandaswamy ringtones by Vodafone to north-indians had a modest role to play. When I din’t sing I sulked. The kitty-parties had mushroomed at every corner and corner on the three floors. Competing against each other at the top of their voices. Fashion sense was critically reviewed by our in-house journalists. Language was improved through flowery-swearing. And dare you call them page three journalists!
I read out Saki to Cuckoo for he felt increasingly lonely amid a class of non-relatable people. He liked it because he could now initiate a conversation with professors out here. The ones who can never run out of time and sarcasm. For feedback, a recorded ‘big-laugh’ SFX would do the job well.
Classrooms compensated for our rickety hostel beds, but that was realized only after a week. This draws me to an end which happens to be the dawn of a fresh range of experiences. Cuckoo, hopefully, would have matured by then.
He is Cuckoo, the college-residential dog who is now a great pal or do I say the only great pal I have. We became friends whining about our daily dining. He told me he looked garishly suave four-months ago when he absconded from his place of birth. To me, he looked multiple shades darker than the dogs I had been with in Delhi. He was severely lanky for his age and breed. He told me he had lost 7 kg’s since then. i obviously believed him.
Like me, he was petrified of intellectual dogs. And here we found them in abundance, in all shapes and sizes, and fairly uniform colour. Establishing a classroom outside their own, under a lone standing tree. Thankfully, there is only one tree. They talked about the artillery of Che Guevera while we raved about the culinary of colonel Sandlers. They lamented about global pricing of crude oil, we hoped for an increase in the price of coconut oil (we bathed in).
I was more unfortunate than cuckoo when it came to suffering. Dogs were not allowed inside the hostel. Or should I say canine of the IQ equivalent to Cuckoo's. Rules were laid, highly atypical of what one associates with hostel. “kindly flush the pot after excreting” “ensure that buckets are filled with water at all times”, my roomates . People quarreled over the colour of mugs, for it had to match that of the bucket. This fixation with sanitary was to do with the lack of it. We faced water-shortage on the second day and therefore refrained from throwing spitballs at each other.
To prevent extinction of my wits, i entertained my roomies in a funny tamil accent I had unknowingly acquired. aiyaaaoh! free Kandaswamy ringtones by Vodafone to north-indians had a modest role to play. When I din’t sing I sulked. The kitty-parties had mushroomed at every corner and corner on the three floors. Competing against each other at the top of their voices. Fashion sense was critically reviewed by our in-house journalists. Language was improved through flowery-swearing. And dare you call them page three journalists!
I read out Saki to Cuckoo for he felt increasingly lonely amid a class of non-relatable people. He liked it because he could now initiate a conversation with professors out here. The ones who can never run out of time and sarcasm. For feedback, a recorded ‘big-laugh’ SFX would do the job well.
Classrooms compensated for our rickety hostel beds, but that was realized only after a week. This draws me to an end which happens to be the dawn of a fresh range of experiences. Cuckoo, hopefully, would have matured by then.
Aug 7, 2009
a tale of 5 w's and a why
in the white rectum of silence, these walls have now ceased to question my existence in it's tall standing on the other side of the puddle.disappointment or out of sheer boredom perhaps. the combined force of agent z's fail to make me talk.
why? because i simply cant relate to them.
"what a horrible meal"
"why can't they hire a north-indian cook"
silent sobs interrupted by high-pitched rambling. each day i choke during breakfast, lunch and dinner and not because of food, mind you!
but then isn't it so much better than daily discourses on
casteism,
nationalism,
humanism?
i wonder.
why? because i simply cant relate to them.
"what a horrible meal"
"why can't they hire a north-indian cook"
silent sobs interrupted by high-pitched rambling. each day i choke during breakfast, lunch and dinner and not because of food, mind you!
but then isn't it so much better than daily discourses on
casteism,
nationalism,
humanism?
i wonder.
Jul 26, 2009
Jul 19, 2009
defininition of good morning
i manage to grasp the first swirl of leaves, a subject of great pride and greater joy, perhaps equivalent to the receipt of first birthday present and first salary for its nature of compulsive exclusivity.
Annihilating the dictates of sleep, i feel mighty in my otherwise aching body.This morning effortlessly paints a gorgeous dream that i was longing for all these days in my minuscule hours of presumptuous rest, dismissing the need and necessity of dreams altogether.
The sky rattles,
the serendipity of sky,
like a sleeping beauty
felt in her lover's touch.
The previous hours were whiled away in the multiple concoctions of existence and similar mind-wrenching thoughts, while the morning waned almost all of them in the stroke of purple dawn. Leaving me and fellow cicadas in equal proportions of awe.
It seems sunshine is born to unravel mysteries of all times, in the flicker of a discovery, like a traveler finding his shell, walking astray on an unsolicited beach in the fathom of mere incidence.
like the prevalence of my monochromatic thoughts as a matter of daily ritual, the clouds today are no different in their cryptic design except they happen to be my muse today.
the jaded eyelids, talk to the sky
through the clamor of bird twitter
while it smiles at my audacity
in a jingle of breezy wisper
i also happen to like this morning for thinning the profound diversity of this place. blurring the much debated political, and socially irreverent key issues, for intellectuals are fast asleep. The kinds who're perpetually stocked with war journals in their pockets, falter to witness peace at this hour of the day.
oh how i forget they're busy dreaming about a lucrative job in the expansive arena of conflict journalism promising the prospects of a good morning to one and all.
Annihilating the dictates of sleep, i feel mighty in my otherwise aching body.This morning effortlessly paints a gorgeous dream that i was longing for all these days in my minuscule hours of presumptuous rest, dismissing the need and necessity of dreams altogether.
The sky rattles,
the serendipity of sky,
like a sleeping beauty
felt in her lover's touch.
The previous hours were whiled away in the multiple concoctions of existence and similar mind-wrenching thoughts, while the morning waned almost all of them in the stroke of purple dawn. Leaving me and fellow cicadas in equal proportions of awe.
It seems sunshine is born to unravel mysteries of all times, in the flicker of a discovery, like a traveler finding his shell, walking astray on an unsolicited beach in the fathom of mere incidence.
like the prevalence of my monochromatic thoughts as a matter of daily ritual, the clouds today are no different in their cryptic design except they happen to be my muse today.
the jaded eyelids, talk to the sky
through the clamor of bird twitter
while it smiles at my audacity
in a jingle of breezy wisper
i also happen to like this morning for thinning the profound diversity of this place. blurring the much debated political, and socially irreverent key issues, for intellectuals are fast asleep. The kinds who're perpetually stocked with war journals in their pockets, falter to witness peace at this hour of the day.
oh how i forget they're busy dreaming about a lucrative job in the expansive arena of conflict journalism promising the prospects of a good morning to one and all.
Jul 18, 2009
Jul 17, 2009
i do
like a lichen grows
on alabaster's skin
growing, decaying,
alternatively
i thrive on moments,
these days
loving, hating,
most dispassionately
on alabaster's skin
growing, decaying,
alternatively
i thrive on moments,
these days
loving, hating,
most dispassionately
Jul 7, 2009
deeparture part 2
The voice of my heart reverberates through the four walls of my mind. sensations amass an enormous chunk of control and equilibrium. clocks are held are as objects of importance while days are being stalked like never before.
'belongings', 'attachments', 'longing' give way to 'anticipation', 'wait'and 'future', looking handsome in their new attire. It's quite a thing to see the whole present-future transition with eyes wide open while all you do is stand in quiet contemplation
'belongings', 'attachments', 'longing' give way to 'anticipation', 'wait'and 'future', looking handsome in their new attire. It's quite a thing to see the whole present-future transition with eyes wide open while all you do is stand in quiet contemplation
Jul 4, 2009
deeparture part1
a melange of thoughts race against each other to approach to the finishing line, which apparently happens to be the 'start'. The arousal of first emotional potpourri was welcomed like the first rain. Thus making it an eventful night. It's fascinating to see cold-hearted shedding their skin instantaneously in the touch of a tear.It induces a wicked smile to my demonic demeanor, capitalising on my pride.
22 kg's in a tan-brown trolly bag.
i begin to collect my belongings excluding time ofcourse.
22 kg's in a tan-brown trolly bag.
i begin to collect my belongings excluding time ofcourse.
Jul 2, 2009
what is the colour of your mind?
yellow,
a pale, faded one.
The one that usually blinds your eye, in it's customary radiance. celebrating despair in a bright lit room. Today i see dollops of yellow in my well-bred grey universe.
An expression of nothingness, yellow stands for a mellowed invoice of the non-conformist.
a pale, faded one.
The one that usually blinds your eye, in it's customary radiance. celebrating despair in a bright lit room. Today i see dollops of yellow in my well-bred grey universe.
An expression of nothingness, yellow stands for a mellowed invoice of the non-conformist.
a succumbing
i thought i could live
in the illusion forever
where peace of mind
was awarded a middle finger
in a blindfolded journey
i diverged my train of thought
only to cram into wires
which can never be sought
i 'felt' an uneasiness
and that's when the trouble began
in a detached sense of consciousness
how can i ever understand the man
oh, i forgot
i am practical and non-demanding
depriving me of my response
to anything alarming
so i bear this too
on the road to perdition
giving in to their desires
in the acquired state of salvation
in the illusion forever
where peace of mind
was awarded a middle finger
in a blindfolded journey
i diverged my train of thought
only to cram into wires
which can never be sought
i 'felt' an uneasiness
and that's when the trouble began
in a detached sense of consciousness
how can i ever understand the man
oh, i forgot
i am practical and non-demanding
depriving me of my response
to anything alarming
so i bear this too
on the road to perdition
giving in to their desires
in the acquired state of salvation
Jun 22, 2009
tripping on exams
i didn't click a single picture of the two-cities, i trotted in a span of 12 days. because i could see the visuals threatening the independence of my mind. I abstained from the purchase of memorabilia to be carried in the mammoth-sized luggage i was bagging. i instead chose to mutilate the frame and present some factual-made like fiction frescos below:
1. gender equality is best practiced in mumbai(i was the body guard to my 'modestly' good-looking cousin. This when my length of shorts was shorter than his at any given point of time.)
2.babies should never travel by air, because parents are lame at their attempt of psyching them with the "i'll throw you out of the window" threats.
3.you can never lose your way in the locals, because chances are that one out of the hundred heads will be sensible
4.the new entry to juhu beach will leave you at a remarkably dim-lit, thinly occupied place to have some good time.( i assume at this point of time no filth will match your dirty acts at 12 am there)
5.clouds are not making babies, i testified it in the plane(and so it didn't rain in the entire stay)
6."tamil teeliyam"(i cant speak tamil/shutup), is the golden word to be repeated the moment a black opens his zip.(you shouldn't think pervert coz they were dhotis and not jeans)
7.do not buy a power-vodka, no matter how much you feel like boozing,(contact my roommates for further details)
8.kanzivaram sarees clad with bata chappals is the look for the season(hurry limited stocks, order now)
9. pudhe station -bay of bombay( next station was always abhay. in his bland taste of life, he spiced up my entire trip)
10, oh, it reminds me. i have a cure for maggi mishap under the patent name of me and abhay(how to cook your maggi in the absence of a tastemaker)
11.the amount of sweat released in one hour of dancing equals to spending one minute in mumbai. and hence i missed dancing
12. collaba causeway is a must-visit. it boasts of some egypt style restaurant under a hardcore indian name 'bade-miyan' and shops which are too true to be fake. (for instance you will find under colours of benetton-a brightly lit up store standing proudly next to the United colors of Benetton.
13. a rare sight of beautiful people can be grabbed at theobroma's. it's because they are all tourists.
14.back home, i received the best welcome of my life. my pet came running down the stairs and refused to back off for the entire day
15. i am willing to take exams all my life, if they promise such a trip everytime.
1. gender equality is best practiced in mumbai(i was the body guard to my 'modestly' good-looking cousin. This when my length of shorts was shorter than his at any given point of time.)
2.babies should never travel by air, because parents are lame at their attempt of psyching them with the "i'll throw you out of the window" threats.
3.you can never lose your way in the locals, because chances are that one out of the hundred heads will be sensible
4.the new entry to juhu beach will leave you at a remarkably dim-lit, thinly occupied place to have some good time.( i assume at this point of time no filth will match your dirty acts at 12 am there)
5.clouds are not making babies, i testified it in the plane(and so it didn't rain in the entire stay)
6."tamil teeliyam"(i cant speak tamil/shutup), is the golden word to be repeated the moment a black opens his zip.(you shouldn't think pervert coz they were dhotis and not jeans)
7.do not buy a power-vodka, no matter how much you feel like boozing,(contact my roommates for further details)
8.kanzivaram sarees clad with bata chappals is the look for the season(hurry limited stocks, order now)
9. pudhe station -bay of bombay( next station was always abhay. in his bland taste of life, he spiced up my entire trip)
10, oh, it reminds me. i have a cure for maggi mishap under the patent name of me and abhay(how to cook your maggi in the absence of a tastemaker)
11.the amount of sweat released in one hour of dancing equals to spending one minute in mumbai. and hence i missed dancing
12. collaba causeway is a must-visit. it boasts of some egypt style restaurant under a hardcore indian name 'bade-miyan' and shops which are too true to be fake. (for instance you will find under colours of benetton-a brightly lit up store standing proudly next to the United colors of Benetton.
13. a rare sight of beautiful people can be grabbed at theobroma's. it's because they are all tourists.
14.back home, i received the best welcome of my life. my pet came running down the stairs and refused to back off for the entire day
15. i am willing to take exams all my life, if they promise such a trip everytime.
Jun 8, 2009
at the end of the day
The stillness of night brings immense fulfillment to my locomotive thoughts(and limbs these days). This particular hour draws the final curtain that leaves my bones bare, before a nascent flight to dreams.
some days i read
some days i watch
while mostly i think
The sharks and frills(of the day) don't bother me much, as i proceed towards an end. A happy or deviant from it. Over time i can coherently say, that this form of end encapsulates both hope and aspiration in the most subtle form. Gradually releasing all the pent-up emotions, in it's no- stain(of that stinking memory),no-dirt claim.
some days it's enchanting
some days it's bitter
while mostly it's soothing.
some days i read
some days i watch
while mostly i think
The sharks and frills(of the day) don't bother me much, as i proceed towards an end. A happy or deviant from it. Over time i can coherently say, that this form of end encapsulates both hope and aspiration in the most subtle form. Gradually releasing all the pent-up emotions, in it's no- stain(of that stinking memory),no-dirt claim.
some days it's enchanting
some days it's bitter
while mostly it's soothing.
Jun 2, 2009
strange new melodies seem to strum the unfamiliar territories of my mind today. anticipation, anxiety or accretion? i hold divided views on that. stranded at the end of the tunnel i gait backwards to redeem a fresh daisy hope. Traveling backwards can take you places. and i am curiously waiting for this phenomena to jolt my neutrons.
On a rolling stone, i experience rampant doldrums beyond the scope of generic perplexities of human mind. Like a final thwart prior to that much sought equilibrium. It will either destroy all or flourish the prospects of an inner societal peace.
CALM.
one two three
CALM.
On a rolling stone, i experience rampant doldrums beyond the scope of generic perplexities of human mind. Like a final thwart prior to that much sought equilibrium. It will either destroy all or flourish the prospects of an inner societal peace.
CALM.
one two three
CALM.
Jun 1, 2009
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