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 Something Wonderful.
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 Wonderful He’ll always Needs your love And so he’ll get your love. A man who needs your love Can be Wonderful.
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?
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.
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.
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?
"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]
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.
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.
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
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.
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!
