Sunday, December 09, 2007
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Think Of Me
Think of me
think of me fondly,
when we've said goodbye.
Remember me
once in a while -
please promise me
you'll try.
When you find that,
once again,
you long to take your heart back
and be free -
if you ever find
a moment,
spare a thought
for me
We never said
our love
was evergreen,
or as unchanging
as the sea -
but if you can still remember
stop and think
of me . . .
Think of all the things
we've shared and seen -
don't think about the things
which might have been . . .
Think of me,
think of me waking,
silent and
resigned.
Imagine me,
trying too hard
to put you
from my mind.
Recall those days
look back
on all those times,
think of the things
we'll never do -
there will
never be
a day,
when
I won't think of you . .
We never said
our love
was evergreen,
or as unchanging
as the sea -
but please
promise me,
that sometimes
you will think of me!
(These are words from the famous musical opera 'The Phantom Of the Opera'. Simply fascinating - I had the opportunity of watching it in Las Vegas at 'The Venetian', and it left me spellbound. The romance, the music, the costumes, the dances, the beautiful background sets, the wonderful lyrics, and last but not the least, the 'Phantom' himself. It was all so glamorous and fantastic, yet I felt it was so close to reality. Here is an excerpt of the plot, taken from the official website:
His voice calls to her, nurturing her extraordinary talents from the shadows of the opera house where innocent chorus girl Christine Daae makes her home. Only ballet mistress Madame Giry knows that Christine's mysterious "Angel of Music" is actually the Phantom, a disfigured musical genius who haunts the catacombs of the theatre, terrifying the ensemble of artists who live and work there.
When temperamental diva La Carlotta walks out in the middle of a dress rehearsal for the company's latest production, the theatre's eager new managers have no choice but to thrust Christine into the spotlight.
Her mesmerizing opening night performance captivates both the audience and the Phantom, who devotes himself to casting his protégé as the opera's next star. But he is not the only powerful man to be awed by the young soprano, as Christine soon finds herself courted by the theatre's wealthy patron, the Vicompte Raoul de Chagny.
Though she is enthralled by her charismatic mentor, Christine is undeniably drawn to the dashing Raoul, enraging the Phantom and setting the stage for a dramatic crescendo in which soaring passions, fierce jealousies and obsessive love threaten to drive the fated lovers past the point of no return.
)
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
They are seldom aware of their power. I know of one such ignorant soul. Do you?
A Night to Remember
Dreams do come true….Fantasies do take form. The world conspires to give you what you want. The heart does feel content. You are at the top of the world.
Sometimes you do get whatever you wish for. Sometimes you make a night you will remember for life.
Alas, dreams do not last forever, and everything good has to end. It ends too soon.
The night of lights, cool breeze, music, a sweet scent, smiles, contentment, sheer nirvana: I will never forget you.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Last Saturday….
I put on my favorite dress (which I usually do when I am gloomy, it gives me one reason to smile). Somehow I sensed a movie alone would not do the trick. I needed something more that night to lift my spirits.
The movie was lukewarm. It told a very simple story in a convoluted manner to make it look glamorous. I was unimpressed.
The universal feeling in the air stated that home should definitely not be our next destination. So off we went to Rookies (a sports bar). We thought a little drink and a game of pool would do us good.
There is nothing I enjoy more, than a good surprise.
As we approached the bar, we saw people in weird attires, shouting and laughing outside the bar. We soon realized to our astonishment, that there was a Halloween party going on inside! And since we were not in costume, we would be given the last preference to enter the already packed club. We joined the ordinary folks (read non-costumed junta) in the line for entry.
A patient ten minutes later we were part of the action. We entered this whole new world that was so completely cut out from the outside reality. I felt like I had entered a fairy tale. There were people so completely freaky-looking in their costumes, and the best part was that they were so completely enjoying themselves in it! I saw a hulk, a Dalmatian dog, Mr. Jigsaw (from Saw), a gladiator, a nurse, a Dracula, and a multitude variety of ghosts and fairies. At one instance I was waiting at the bar for my drink, and when I looked left there was a man with an ugly-hair wig, with a face painted pitch black, smiling spookily at me! For a moment I was taken aback at the sight. But then I, an ordinary soul that night, smiled back at the ghost who was the real hero of the moment.
There was so much positivity in the air…
There was a live band playing that people were dancing to and singing along with. Each one: age, build, sex no bar, had taken pains in getting into a costume, however weird it may make them look. They were so comfortable in it. Each one, inspite of being one in a group, was at the same time in his own world, did his own thing without caring what the other would think. It was very clear that each person in that room was trying his best to be happy and enjoy life to the fullest, atleast this one night, atleast here whoever they were with. It was as if life wouldn’t give them a second chance.
I decided to follow suit, and realized there was no time to waste being gloomy. I became part of the electric atmosphere. I grooved to the music, sang along the band, and became one of the many. I didn’t care that no one else danced with me (my friends were courteous enough to accompany me till the dance floor, but they just sat enjoying the view and drinks, and didn’t want to dance). I didn’t want to disturb their independence of enjoying themselves in their own way. I danced till my heart’s content.
Last Saturday I did find that ‘something more’ to lift my spirits. Salvation is indeed achieved through life’s simplest of pleasures.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus
The content rather is intended to resist this idea.
My claim is that we are not so different as is made out to be. And I especially emphasize this about one trait in which men and women are considered to act in completely opposite ways:
"Women act from the heart, men are practical and do not consult the heart once the brain has decided. "
I must have heard this from almost all men I have ever conversed with about this. They all gave me the same equation: men act with their brains ONLY. Using the heart is not manlike.
My experiences say something different though. I beg to completely differ.
Think about this again, which of these is true: Women do not use their brains when they make their decisions, or men do not use their heart when they make their decisions? I strongly believe neither is true at all.
Firstly, what does one mean by saying 'acting from the heart'? My best guess is it means acting out of emotions, acting out of essential human qualities, acting out of what we have been made of. And what does 'acting with the mind' signify? Being a woman, and as per myth never having exercised this trait restricted to a man's domain, I would again need to guess. To me it would mean keeping yours and other's best interests under consideration, and doing the best you can for yourself.
The best decision is one taken with the right mix of emotions and practicality governing you. A decision taken with either the heart or mind unemployed is only a half and shallow one.
So why then do men pride themselves over not using their heart and only using the brains? At the risk of sounding sexist, I am going to be frank with my very strong opinion on this. Men border close to insensitivity under the glamorous farce of practicality. It is a consolation they provide to their own conscience for acting in a way convenient to only them. I have witnessed men employing their Everest-sized egos, their raging hormones and their child-like stubbornness whenever they feel like it. So what are the emotions they are talking about never having used? Most times it is a lack of interest, and sometimes they are just lazy to want to use their 'heart', because it is most convenient not to use it. Why bother understanding something that doesn't affect their interests? It is just more convenient to say: "We are practical, we do not use emotions, so we do not even understand species that use emotions, read women." Easy escape.
I only have to say this: Wake up boys, do you really think we dig your 'practicality' drama?
(None of my male friends will be surprised to read this from me, they all know I am very strongly opinionated on this one. For the rest of the world, welcome to my world!)
Monday, October 01, 2007
Just When It Matters Most
A perfect 'Saturday Night Out With Friends' was on the cards. I was especially looking forward to it for two reasons: I love to dance, and I was just done with a techie certi exam that I had cleared Saturday morning with flying colors, and wanted to reward myself with some dance n drink. Two compelling reasons to want to let go, have some fun and hit the dance club.
It was all well planned in my mind. I had a perfect dress for the night, the directions to the best club in town, and made sure I looked perfect after a good workout and a warm shower. I felt like heaven.
At this stage I have got to introduce to the readers my gang, who have a very important part to play in this comedy of errors. I had for company my very interesting friends, who for sake of confidentiality (at their extreme insistence), I will call Mr.Masala, Mr. Hoodie and Mr. IDP. The reason for choosing these names will be evident as you read on.....
The evening started with a plan to catch a movie at the cinemas, followed by dinner out, followed by the much awaited 'hit the dance floors' program of action. We arrived late at the cinemas to start with, so had to settle for a supposedly mediocre movie. The movie turned out to be far from mediocre, on the negative graph. It completely failed to impress. To add to the fact, I was feeling extremely hungry, and my mind wouldn't think of anything other than food, and I didn't let my friends do that either. We left half-way through the movie. At the time it was Mr. Hoodie, Mr. IDP and me trying to deal with the hunger pangs, so we decided to have Mr. Masala give us company. We called him and he suggested we meet at an Indian restaurant in downtown Hartford for dinner. He gave us some vague directions that I had some serious doubts on.
I was hungry, period. My mind wouldn't work. Hartford was a long drive away, and we were lost. If you think nothing can be worse, read on.....
After a 30 minute hunting quest for a restaurant called 'Masala', I was finally sitting behind some 'Tarkori Samosas' and relishing them. The waiter asked me if I wanted a drink, but I told him that I was 'saving that for later' in a very excited tone that was probably inexplicable to him. There were fine Californian wines lying around me, ones that would have gone wonderfully with Indian food, but I resisted my temptations for the sake of tequilas that I thought would follow later that night.
Post food, it was finally time to head for the club. Again, we didn't have directions and Mr. Masala gave us some vague instructions on how to get there. Lost and confused in the crowded and cryptic Hartford streets, I happened to skip a blinking red, and narrowly escaped being hit. As luck would have it, there was a cop right at our heels. His siren went active and we had to pull over. He left me with a warning, and I sighed with relief that I had not had any drinks at the restaurant. It also turned out that we were driving in the completely opposite direction from where we should have been, and the cop was kind enough to guide us to the right path. After leaving us, he was still watching us from his car, and that for some strange freaky reason made me very nervous. I took two consecutive wrong turns and he kept flashing his light at us, indicating 'there you go wrong again!'. My friends were starting to get frustrated with me (can't blame them!), and I vented it all out at them, blaming them for being so insensitive and making me nervous (that's the easiest way out for women, always works!)
Finally we reached the street where the club stood. Only parking was the issue now, we anticipated. We got into a paid park area, and I guess I was still not over the cop incident. While backing up my car into a parking area, I dashed it against the wall (OK, the last time I tried to back park was umm,....ummm....umm...let's leave it at that for now...). It was a rented Subaru and I was insured. But nevertheless the incident left me feeling low. My friends did their best to bring up my spirits, but at such times if there is one thing that can cheer me up, it's music. And music I had! As we approached out of the parking lot, we could hear the thump of music beats from multiple clubs that adorned the Hartford night life. I began to feel good and alive again. I couldn't wait to get on the dance floor and groove to the beats.
(So close, yet so far.....)
We reached the bouncer at the club entrance. He didn't let us in because one of my friends was wearing a hooded tee. Mr. Hoodie was civil enough to offer to stay out while the rest of us get in, but that was not even an option on my list.
Dejected though I was, I decided that the night was still young, and a dance club was not after all a place in Egypt or Hawaii, and not getting there was not such a great deal. I dearly missed being on the dance floor, but what the heck....I was still with my friends....and there were a million other things to do.
We did not get an entry into any of the other clubs/sports bars because one of my friends carried an International Driving Permit (IDP) as the only form of identification, which for some reason was unacceptable at clubs.
By the time we reached Middletown (our home town) my desperation for dance and drink had died down. It was 1 am in the morning. We went over to Mr. Hoodie's place, we played cards, listened to music, talked, laughed and chilled out. We spent the next 3 hours doing almost nothing else but being together, and laughing together about the night's fiascoes. After all, we each had a very major role to play in it! At 4 am, we retired to our respective homes.
I had recently watched a movie called 'Mystery Date', where the first and much anticipated date is ruined by a series of uncalled-for mishaps, and all the while the couple is trying to get out of messy situations. At the end they are frustrated, but then someone tells them that out of their entire lives, this is one night they will always remember.
I wonder...If the movie had turned out to be good, if we had easily found our way to the restaurant, if I had not skipped the blinking red and been stopped by a cop, if I had not taken those wrong turns one after the other while the cop was still watching, if I had not brushed my car against the wall while back-parking, if Hoodie wore a different teeshirt, if IDP carried his passport instead, if we had gotten into the club or bar......would the night have been as memorable? Mebbe not. It wouldn't have earned a mention on my blog for sure!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Penning down verses
Was in the mood to scribble down some verses today...sometimes your mind urges to write some stuff that makes no sense while its still in there....but when put into words it sometimes creates something meaningful. Here's what my mind was rambling about today:
I was hoping it would never come
The moment of goodbye
Was this real?, I wondered
It was time to descend after kissing the highs
Why do good times ever end?
The past is all I will ever have
The future doesn't matter anymore
And the present is too difficult to bear
We suddenly became strangers
'Take Care', were your last words to me
Two words was all it took
You thought they will set you free
I waited for you to stop me
Looking back every hopeful second
You had tears in your eyes, a smile on your face
You knew in your heart it was the end
You have to let go of what is dearest
if you want to be free; like a phoenix be reborn
But all things come at a cost my darling,
You shall weep in my memory long after I'm gone.
**************************************************
Amongst the crowd, you were special
In the blinding darkness, you were my light
In the deafening silence, you were my song
In the arid desert, you were my water
In the tears, you brought me a smile
In the lows, you were my high
In the deadly battles, you were my strength
In all the reasons to give up, you were one reason to keep going.
Will you ever understand what you meant to me?
You go on as usual, you don't hear me, see me, feel me.
I wish you knew, then you would never have let go....
In all the reasons to let go, this could have been one reason to hold on.
Friday, September 14, 2007
I finally got behind the wheel again today after an absence of six months. And the pleasure felt just as I had wanted it to feel. Surprisingly, the high anticipation of the moment did not diminish the joy at all, contrary to what usually happens.
I have been behind the wheel in India, but driving on the city roads is a far cry from it being pleasurable and relaxing. But driving along open roads or along winding summer lanes is just what my heart seeked and attained. And that I can easily do here in US.
Ofcourse, being at home has other unparalleled pleasures. But while I'm jet-setting on and off, I might as well enjoy the best of both worlds!
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Summer Tales
Went for a refreshing swim in the warm waters of the pool, followed by a cold shower, and then basked in the sun with my book for company. I now have a moderate tan and a completely rejuvenated soul.
This is the life! :)
Friday, August 10, 2007
Quidditch et al
Potter fever is in the air once again, and as much as I hate to admit, I am very much one of the victims galore smitten by it.
I have a diversity of intellectual books on my bedside table, each patiently awaiting it's turn to earn my attention. But at the end of a tiring day, in the 30 minutes of pre-bedtime leisure, when I am cosily cushioned in my blanket with my little yellow teddy for company, I can't help but reach out for Potter boy. Somehow the happenings in the life of a regular teenage orphaned wizard battling against a wicked, adult and powerful one, seem more appealing to me at that time of the night than knowing about where I should be investing my money and why the market prices have fallen and just how strong the rupee is getting against the dollar.
Don't get me wrong, I do read intellectual factual stuff besides fantasy. I am also not saying that Harry Potter is the best fantasy ever imagined or written. The point I'm trying to make is, take a Potter book in your hand and it's difficult to put it down. Whatever the incentives.
I'm sure many would disagree. "The prose is very simple with no complex frills. The story is after all just about a kid. What can be more fantastic than a wizard world? It's nothing more than some charms and spells borrowed and concocted from the Latin language. It's only hyped by the media. It's stuff that the kids read! Not for grownups."I'v had these reactions from many uninterested muggles who couldn't care less about anyone named Potter, or his Nimbus 2000. Most of them have never read a Potter book or even watched the movies. Guys, what can be a more disappointing attitude than dismissing something without giving it a fair chance? And that too coming from fantasy readers and believers that anything is possible?
Potter stories appeal to me for many reasons. For starters, it is precisely because they are so fantastic and away from our world, that it is too good to be unbelievable! If aliens can exist, then so can wizards. If airplanes can fly, why not broomsticks? Those who think the story is only about a kid swooshing his wooden wand are way off target and know nothing. At the end of the day, the story is about how good wins over evil not because of the usual goods, but because of support from well-wishers and close friends, and a lot of courage (and yes,luck too). Some of the things that Professor Dumbledore tells Harry can really be good food for thought. (So who said Potter books are not intellectual? :) ). And lastly, the stories do have good plots. Each character is so well etched out and believable. Hermione is so much like I was during my school days! And there's a Ron everywhere I look.
Another very interesting aspect of the story, which I believe is also the real essence of the Potter plot, is that Harry (who is all good) is depicted to be very similar in many ways to Voldemort (who is a genius but in a wicked way). Both are orphans, both are Parselmouths (those who can talk to snakes), both are wizards with unusual talent and power, both have been through a difficult childhood, both Hogwarts geniuses. But one is good, the other is bad. And the constant battle between the good and bad is what makes the crux of this entire mania. Come to think of it, does this not resemble the constant battle between the good and bad in us? There is no denying that there resides an angel as well as a devil within each of us, and whichever amongst the two is victorious when we make our decisions is what makes us what we are. The story depicts that with the right support from our friends and family, with the courage we have within us, and with some good advice, we can make the angel win over the devil in us, even though the devil may be more powerful.
And they say it's a book for kids! :)
So which spell would you prefer to use? "Avada Kedavra" (the Killing Curse) or "Expecto Patronum" (the Shielding Curse)? Well for now the one I want to chant is "Disapparate!" Au revoir! (sound in background:'Pop')
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
kaise bhulaoon?
tumhe yaad hoga ke nahin
tanha lamhon mein ye khayaal saath deta hai
vo pehle sparsh ka ehsaas
mujhe abhi bhi yaad hai
kaise bhulaoon batla do.
kya tumhe yaad hai
humne nainon ki bhaasha seekhi thi
chupke se tumne apni preet jataai thi
vo lamha ab sapnon mein dekhti hoon
kaise bhulaoon batla do.
yaad hain vo pal?
meri zulfon mein ungliyaan pherna tumhara
vo har waqt mujhe sarhaana
apne hoton ki baansuri banaana
kaise bhulaoon batla do.
itne paas the
saans leti thi to tumhari khushboo aati thi
ab vo aalam hai ki gayaa waqt sapna sa lagta hai
poochh sakti hoon kya mera naam yaad hai tumhe?
par mein tumhe kaise bhulaoon, zaraa batla do.
- Manisha
Thursday, July 05, 2007
The Pune Tamtam - An Endangered Species
Introducing to the rest of the world, 'the Tamtam' (also called the six-seater, but this is a complete misnomer) that runs as a form of public transport vehicle in some parts of Pune. Typically black in color, this species can be found carrying an overwhelming number of people from point A to point B. Easy to spot, each occurring within minutes of the other, the tamtam is a popular hit amongst the Punekars.
Ideally the vehicle's capacity is 6 passengers. But the tamtam believes in exceeding expectations, and takes double the capacity. Ofcourse, the tamtam driver has to arrange the passengers in a way so as to balance the load all across, or there are very high chances that the tamtam may topple off if one heavy memsahib sits at one end. But at most times the tamtam drivers are efficient at their job. Occasionally you spot a few light weight boys hanging on one foot from the tamtam as well. The principle is simple: Use whatever space you have to make money. Even if the space is as less as to fit just a person's foot.
If you belong to the 'touch-me-not' types, this is not a place for you. You have to leave your inhibitions behind and adjust yourself so that you can make a place for you till you reach your destination. It is amazing to see how accommodating people can be in this little enclosure. Each one adjusts for the other. If only people were as accommodating in their personal lives too!
Every trip from point A to B makes the tamtam's driver richer by 60 bucks atleast, considering it is holding 12 passengers. The driver's seat is occupied by 3 passengers, other than the driver ofcourse. The rear seats hold 8 more, and one is found hanging from the vehicle, balancing on just his foot and holding the tamtam by his arm (displaying an amazing act of acrobatics).
Proudly cruising away at a speed of 25 km/hr, with not less than 13 people on board, a cloud of black smoke as it's leave-behind trail, being the highest contributor to Pune's pollution (one of the reasons for it's possible extinction in the future), at 5 bucks charged per person, this ride is action-packed, adventurous and cost-effective. Need a ride? Hop-in!
Ever Wondered?
How lonely must heaven be.....
How vast would the universe be....
Just how small are we in it....
How scary would it be to look death in the face....
How would nirvana feel....
What is our purpose in this life....
How much can your own fear scare you....
How would it feel to be left as the only human on earth....
How would it feel to win a Wimbledon title....:)
Did You Know?
A 7 year old chimp is as powerful as an adult human.
By the time he reaches the age of 12, he is 5 times more powerful than an adult human.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Adaptation
Adaptation-Here's an excerpt of the dictionary meaning:
1. the state of being adapted; adjustment.
2. Biology:a form or structure modified to fit a changed environment.
3. Physiology: the decrease in response of sensory receptor organs, as those of vision, touch, temperature, olfaction, audition, and pain, to changed, constantly applied, environmental conditions.
4. Sociology: a slow, usually unconscious modification of individual and social activity in adjustment to cultural surroundings.
5. The act of making suitable to an end or the condition of being made suitable to an end.
As per the theory of adaptation proposed by Jean-Baptiste Lamarck, giraffes stretched their necks in response to higher leaves, that led them to adapt and the future generations inherited the long necks. A sloth, well known for it's sluggishness, has in reality adapted itself to being so slow and 'slothy'. It is precisely the laziness that keeps him away from harm's way. Did you know that a sloth would usually not cover more than five metres in an hour? The slow speed keeps him unnoticed by his predators.
The best example of adaptation is how the human body and mind adapt to pain. When the pain reaches an unbearable limit, the mind slowly gets numb to it. It is also amazing how the mind adapts to the fact that the person is soon going to die. Facing death in its face is I'm sure a scary thought, but the mind adapts eventually. This is so well illustrated in Iron Maiden's song "Hallowed Be Thy Name", where the prisoner is about to be taken to the gallows, and at first the idea of death terrifies him. But finally when he acknowledges that death is his certain fate, he is not scared to die anymore, and sees the living world as a mere illusion.
When I returned to my country after a very long absence, in the initial days I felt like a stranger between my own people. I felt 'out-of-place' in my own home. It's been four months since I'm back. I am still getting accustomed to driving on the left side of the road. I have started to write dates in DD-MM-YYYY format, as opposed to MM-DD-YYYY format. I do not put hyphens between digits of my phone number anymore. I have packed my favorite boots in the closet because I know I will not be able to wear them for the next four months due to the incessant rains.
As long as change is a constant reality, the need for adaptation will remain so too.
Friday, June 15, 2007
It isn't time that's passing
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn't time that's passing by,
It is you and I.
- Ruskin Bond