Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Something wonderful..

This is a man who thinks with his heart,
His heart is not always wise.
This is a man who stumbles and falls,
But this is a man who tries.

This is a man you’ll forgive and forgive,
And help protect, as long as you live…
He will not always say
What you would have him say,
But now and then he’ll do

He has a thousand dreams
That won’t come true,
You know that he believes in them
And that’s enough for you.

You’ll always go along,
Defend him where he’s wrong
And tell him, when he’s strong
He is
He’ll always
Needs your love
And so he’ll get your love.
A man who needs your love
Can be

She’ll always go along
Defend him when he’s wrong
And tell him when he’s strong
He is wonderful.
He’ll always need her love
And so he’ll get her love
A man who needs your love
Can be wonderful.

- From 'The King and I'

Monday, September 21, 2009

And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me- then
I scream to have you back again?

- On being a Woman by Dorothy Parker

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


If you, if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade.

I'm sure I'm not being rude, but it's just your attitude,
It's tearing me apart, It's ruining everything.

I swore, I swore I would be true, and honey, so did you.
So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

Oh, I thought the world of you.
I thought nothing could go wrong,
But I was wrong. I was wrong.
If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie,
Things wouldn't be so confused and I wouldn't feel so used,
But you always really knew, I just wanna be with you.

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

And I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

- The Cranberries

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

- Rubaiyat [Stanza 51 (1859)]
Omar Khayyam

Translated by Edward FitzGerald

Sunday, September 13, 2009


Running across a forsaken battlefield- under the harsh clouds of absent noises, on the soft mud that lives and dies alternately- I carry my fallacies wrapped in a blank sheet that my face is.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Bill Watterson

Calvin: I wish I had more friends, but people are such jerks. If you can just get most people to leave you alone, you're doing good. If you can find even one person you really like, you're lucky. And if that person can also stand you, you're really lucky.

Hobbes: What if you find someone you can talk to while you eat apples on a bright fall morning?

Calvin: Well, yeah... I suppose there's no point in getting greedy, is there?

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Seminar : The Monthly Symposium.

Seminar : The Monthly Symposium.

On the same Earth.

"OH, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!"

- Rudyard Kipling.

Caught in the crossfire of writing. On the scales are 'emigrant' writers (born and brought up in the West, writing of their homeland, in language that is foreign to the people of their homeland.) , against those that write, staying where they were born and brought up, of their own land, in their mother-tongue, unmindful of the reader, perhaps. The debate is of aesthetics and ideologies, that rosy wreath we lay on 'multiculturalism' and sadly, the art of writing runs into the quagmire of socio-political views. Not that any piece of writing ever has been elusive of it, still. Kipling's verse is at once, distinguishing then knitting together, peoples on a more philosophical canvas of humanity before the Supreme force.

"... But the present is too much with me. The complexities and absurdities of life, its sudden beauty and its lingering pain, its constant surprises, its vanities and its forgetfulness sometimes turn the most exciting of fiction into a mere faint shadow."

- From 'Midnight musings' by Navtej Sarna [Literary Review, The Hindu dated 6th Sep'09]

Under Siege

Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time
Close to the gardens of broken shadows,
We do what prisoners do,
And what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope.

-Mahmoud Darwish

To Beslan, to Iraq, to every state in conflict.Sadly, the list is too long. For today, and always, prayers.

Friday, September 4, 2009

I Remember You As You Were

I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.

- Pablo Neruda.

Soumya shared in this with me. For today ,there is this poem and I am still on the same train."There is no forgetting",perhaps.

Don't think twice, it's alright!

Dylan's song. There is a thing about Dylan and me, I can never remember his songs. I must have some kind of selective amnesia for his songs, but anyway, I came across this song today (I could have, in all probability come across this earlier, only I don't remember it) and ever since it's been playing on the music player or on my mind. I usually look up at the lyrics after I've read about it somewhere or someone leads me to it. But the magic of this song is in listening. The nonchalance ,the way in which he casually trods such a painful territory of heartache is astounding.

The lyrics:

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

It ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don't matter, anyhow
An' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don't know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I'll be gone
You're the reason I'm trav'lin' on
Don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An' it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
I'm on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin' you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin' anyway
So don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
Like you never did before
It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
I can't hear you any more
I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right

I'm walkin' down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I'm bound, I can't tell
But goodbye's too good a word, gal
So I'll just say fare thee well
I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don't mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's all right

Copyright ©1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music

Makes my heart heavy. For today, I am taking the train to the past. Hope I'll return soon.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Paint the streets!

This painting pulled me in! This painting is by Edgar Mueller, one of the most famous artists, I gather.

All I'd known of any art put to the street/road, were the occasional drawings I'd passed by close to the sidewalks. It was usually of some famous figure or deity, in chalk powder or coal, by some otherwise abled man (usually)- with the man holding his hands in a cup, asking to spare him some change. As a kid, I was in awe of the person's artistic abilities - To sprawl across something like that on the road was something to me. We rarely see that these days, what with the urbanization of the place I live in.

All this brushing up on my memory followed this-I logged into FB and a video caught my eye. It well, held it in a spell :) The video was of 'Street Painting'. What I was amazed by was the 3D quality of the paintings. The set of calculations, the perspective that went into it. My eyes rolled at the thought of the details and logistics that went into it.

Here's the video. But it still leaves a lot to be discovered.

For today, good enough. :)

[All credits due.]

Per diem

Yes, that's what my blog will be called, henceforth. Its simply going to be a log of such things I've come across, that I haven't, before, rather , such things I haven't taken note of earlier, perhaps. Things are always there, we draw up our eyelids at will or chance. It could've been called serendipity, but not all are happy accidents nor do I feel so lucky.Oh, luck!