I as such do not have any inclination towards for animals as pets, even zoos would not have interested me, but for the solitude and distance they offer from life. I am scared by fierce looking Alsatians. Have stayed in an apartment all my life, and with both of my parents working never had the time or space to have one. And as far as street dogs are concerned, I never gave them a thought. Kept a track of PETA, just for the sake of my general knowledge until today happened.
Finally winter has descended on the hilly (read mountainous) town of mine. Winter is accompanied by beautiful mornings. And I was on my way to college. Twenty minutes behind schedule. I came across one of the nicest things that life could offer a lover like me.
A puppy, a shade lighter than creamy brown in color, that must have been thrown out from the place it slept in the last night by the chill of the fog of dawn. It slept on the road, bathing in golden yellow sunlight, like God's favorite child.
It was a bundle of joy. The way it slept gave me feeling that life is cozy, comfortable and livable! It was life, reincarnated.
I wanted to savor the sight. Store it in my heart for some obscure poem to be written in that undated future of mine. Someday...I told myself.
I hurried for my class.
On my way back, I found it again. Still sleeping. But with arms out stretched this time. Just the way we take turns on our beds. When I turned back, I saw blood oozing out of its mouth. It was gone, run over.
I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
And as I am blogging this out here, the flesh of that pariah must be rotting in that silent corner, some unknown corner of this gloomy world. Tomorrow it will ooze out, making things difficult for passers-by.
Do I care?
May be yes...I will shed a drop of tear, is that all God's favorite child deserved? It wouldn't be mourned for...
I miss a place far away...
I miss a place far away,
I miss home
I miss those cracks in the walls,
The shade in my garden,
The still and silent afternoons
I miss the sleepy siesta
And my grandma,
The new bloom of winter
And the blinding fog
The dad I was dagger heads with,
And the rides he took me out for
My doting mom, my nagging mom
Feeding me, being the motto of her life
I remember how her veins would show up
Working for me
Huh! Did I care?
And the kid bro,
And his tantrums
When my youth carried me away
From the child in him
I miss those tired evenings
I miss being fed
Being loved
And a hand that ran on my fore head
I miss the idols we worshipped
The prayers I said
I miss my past
The present is but a burden
And besides that
I miss so many other things
Things whose shape
I try to feel in the air of this place
I wanna go back
I wanna go back home
I was an individual,
I wanted an identity
And look
Now what has happened to me?
I miss home
I miss those cracks in the walls,
The shade in my garden,
The still and silent afternoons
I miss the sleepy siesta
And my grandma,
The new bloom of winter
And the blinding fog
The dad I was dagger heads with,
And the rides he took me out for
My doting mom, my nagging mom
Feeding me, being the motto of her life
I remember how her veins would show up
Working for me
Huh! Did I care?
And the kid bro,
And his tantrums
When my youth carried me away
From the child in him
I miss those tired evenings
I miss being fed
Being loved
And a hand that ran on my fore head
I miss the idols we worshipped
The prayers I said
I miss my past
The present is but a burden
And besides that
I miss so many other things
Things whose shape
I try to feel in the air of this place
I wanna go back
I wanna go back home
I was an individual,
I wanted an identity
And look
Now what has happened to me?
liberated...just now...
Have any of you people ever felt empty-hearted? With a heart with no ones name engraved on it? With no one worthy enough …for that great an honor, I am feeling empty-hearted, right now!
Believe me, it’s good this way! You start feeling so damn free. Wild and free! You can feel being yourself… the person you are. Like an adventurer on a lonely planet. That’s what life should be like… liberated! Enlightened!
When you have nothing to laugh for, nothing to cry for, no joyous memories to be cherished, no future to be looked into. Just a smile, so very complacent that it says et al. Lead the life that a gypsy leads. Trotting around on your own. Your soul being your sole soul mate.
Let your hair grow gray, your skin have wrinkles. Let your bones crack down. Let your eyes go blind. Don’t stop. Carry on. Carry on, the way you are….all alone…an adventurer on a lonely planet. You will love it, I am sure.
But …don’t forget me. For I am after all your mentor, your pathfinder. Don’t forget to retrace your steps and thank me after your are enlightened….good luck.
Believe me, it’s good this way! You start feeling so damn free. Wild and free! You can feel being yourself… the person you are. Like an adventurer on a lonely planet. That’s what life should be like… liberated! Enlightened!
When you have nothing to laugh for, nothing to cry for, no joyous memories to be cherished, no future to be looked into. Just a smile, so very complacent that it says et al. Lead the life that a gypsy leads. Trotting around on your own. Your soul being your sole soul mate.
Let your hair grow gray, your skin have wrinkles. Let your bones crack down. Let your eyes go blind. Don’t stop. Carry on. Carry on, the way you are….all alone…an adventurer on a lonely planet. You will love it, I am sure.
But …don’t forget me. For I am after all your mentor, your pathfinder. Don’t forget to retrace your steps and thank me after your are enlightened….good luck.
hav nuthin' much 2 say
It has been quite a few days that I have not written anything. Nothing at all. I have stopped blogging altogether. Today that I am a little lonely and I felt like giving a face to whatever my heart felt, so you have this entry here. That’s what exactly happens. I tend to stop talking to myself when I am not alone. I always lose myself in company and in a crowd, invariably. Doesn’t matter! It’s rare that I am blessed with company of my kind. My soul-mates are scarce, extinct. Well! I am almost an online agony-aunt. Phew!
But recently I met an agony-unc. Someone who did show me some light. And that’s why (most probably) I am lonely now. He isn’t there. The absence of ma agony-unc does matter, I have come to know. And that’s why I fell back on an old friend- ma diary. Just that I have lost track of what I wanted to write…
But recently I met an agony-unc. Someone who did show me some light. And that’s why (most probably) I am lonely now. He isn’t there. The absence of ma agony-unc does matter, I have come to know. And that’s why I fell back on an old friend- ma diary. Just that I have lost track of what I wanted to write…
insane
I was the mirage you chased through all your life.
When dawn peeped through your window, I was the first ray to touch you as the sun poured in.
I was the petals of love you trampled under your foot when young.
The shelter you craved for as the mob chased you all along.
The music that healed your heart.
The winds that grazed your face when you stood all alone on the roof looking for yourself.
The first hint of old age, and the nearness of death.
No matter how far you were, I was always near by, mingled in the air you took in, the blood that ran in you.
In every instance of beauty and suffering you witnessed, I bear testimony to all the moments you lived through.
I was your life and your doom.
And look at what you did to me?
You left me weeping in some ghastly corner of time…me? Your soul?
When dawn peeped through your window, I was the first ray to touch you as the sun poured in.
I was the petals of love you trampled under your foot when young.
The shelter you craved for as the mob chased you all along.
The music that healed your heart.
The winds that grazed your face when you stood all alone on the roof looking for yourself.
The first hint of old age, and the nearness of death.
No matter how far you were, I was always near by, mingled in the air you took in, the blood that ran in you.
In every instance of beauty and suffering you witnessed, I bear testimony to all the moments you lived through.
I was your life and your doom.
And look at what you did to me?
You left me weeping in some ghastly corner of time…me? Your soul?
show me the meaning of being in love
This is the hour of love
And love is in the air
The moon beams down
On us earthly mortals
When all wounds heal
And the soul smiles
Wild and free
And there is glee everywhere
When I feel
That I love you
And it’s strong love
This time, true love
No more betrayals
No more of ego
And the gloom of
The never ending wait
And time, give me
A last chance to forget
Ma last love
And live life all over again
I want it to be for ever
This time
For ever
Eternal, ethereal and deep
I want to fall in love
All over again
And get over all the pain
Forget all the pain I spent
Everything that happened
Was but a part of a
Bad dream
A hellish nightmare that would never recur
I want to cleanse ma heart
Of all the dirt and filth
May I call a spade a spade?
I want no reasons or excuses
I want to let the
Moonlight come in
And wash away
Everything that happened
I want a better place
And peace of mind
Angel, would you set me free
Angel, take me far away
I want the stars
To shine all over again
And the flowers to smile
Truly, this time
And want ma love to
Win the war this time
Irrespective of everything
I want myself to win
For ma fragile heart
Can’t take another heart-break
I want wounds to heal,
Pain to go
I want to start
All over again
Fall in love
All over again
And show me the meaning of being in love
And love is in the air
The moon beams down
On us earthly mortals
When all wounds heal
And the soul smiles
Wild and free
And there is glee everywhere
When I feel
That I love you
And it’s strong love
This time, true love
No more betrayals
No more of ego
And the gloom of
The never ending wait
And time, give me
A last chance to forget
Ma last love
And live life all over again
I want it to be for ever
This time
For ever
Eternal, ethereal and deep
I want to fall in love
All over again
And get over all the pain
Forget all the pain I spent
Everything that happened
Was but a part of a
Bad dream
A hellish nightmare that would never recur
I want to cleanse ma heart
Of all the dirt and filth
May I call a spade a spade?
I want no reasons or excuses
I want to let the
Moonlight come in
And wash away
Everything that happened
I want a better place
And peace of mind
Angel, would you set me free
Angel, take me far away
I want the stars
To shine all over again
And the flowers to smile
Truly, this time
And want ma love to
Win the war this time
Irrespective of everything
I want myself to win
For ma fragile heart
Can’t take another heart-break
I want wounds to heal,
Pain to go
I want to start
All over again
Fall in love
All over again
And show me the meaning of being in love
some things never die...
like these mountains,
this green,
like beauty, ethereal and unscathed,
like da moon,
like tears,
like love...
yeah, u can't kill love...lest u die...
even if u die,
da marks of love remain
on the leaves of your diary,
where you confessed your love...
a thousand unposted letters,
of anger,
of the dreams you knit-
every moment you were in love,
and of your love...
all that lives on
after love dies?
empty nights,
silence,
a bit of remorse,
unsaid words,
a heart that bleeds, every now and then...
u can't kill love...love doesn't die...
like these mountains,
this green,
like beauty, ethereal and unscathed,
like da moon,
like tears,
like love...
yeah, u can't kill love...lest u die...
even if u die,
da marks of love remain
on the leaves of your diary,
where you confessed your love...
a thousand unposted letters,
of anger,
of the dreams you knit-
every moment you were in love,
and of your love...
all that lives on
after love dies?
empty nights,
silence,
a bit of remorse,
unsaid words,
a heart that bleeds, every now and then...
u can't kill love...love doesn't die...
born free...
i'm blind with vision
mad with happiness
elated,exalted
hysterical,intoxicated
i feel drugged,
like dissolving into the
sky and the stars
i'm deaf to all this noise
relaxed,at peace
ignorant,overwhelmed
with my existence
submerged in the fragrance
of some distant crysanthemum
i'm in my own music
i'm dumb
i'm enough
for the survival
of a life time
colours,charm
shine
i'm born free
i'm all lost in myself
i penned dis in da middle f ma maths period 2day,while da rest f da class slept n da poor prof kept blurting out tings bout probs n stats ....i jes hope he neva cums across ma blog...he he he
mad with happiness
elated,exalted
hysterical,intoxicated
i feel drugged,
like dissolving into the
sky and the stars
i'm deaf to all this noise
relaxed,at peace
ignorant,overwhelmed
with my existence
submerged in the fragrance
of some distant crysanthemum
i'm in my own music
i'm dumb
i'm enough
for the survival
of a life time
colours,charm
shine
i'm born free
i'm all lost in myself
i penned dis in da middle f ma maths period 2day,while da rest f da class slept n da poor prof kept blurting out tings bout probs n stats ....i jes hope he neva cums across ma blog...he he he
bhoot?
i never believed in ghosts.but of course i literally drank all the ghost stories if i ever came accross them. i never completely agreed with their existence (or denied it either....lol...)until this happened to me.
all of us had new rooms in second year .airy and better lighted than those in the rickety block of first year.
and on the very firat night my roomie deserted me.
due to reasons i had to sleep alone.i dun just want to waste your precious time making you read all that stuff here,all i can disclose is that we din't have a fight.
at around say one o'clock i locked my door,and switched on the allout(mosquito repellant with extra MMR...lol..our campus is endemic to malaria to add our pile of worries) and dissolved into many a dreams in my bed.i remember i had the fans moving at full speed and all...
at six around mum gave her usual wake up call,but i slept well beyond that as it was a saturday.as far as i remember my all out was burning bright then.
and you know what!!!!
next when i opend my holy eyes,my allout was switched off,the fans were switched off!!!
temme could that be a ghost??
all of us had new rooms in second year .airy and better lighted than those in the rickety block of first year.
and on the very firat night my roomie deserted me.
due to reasons i had to sleep alone.i dun just want to waste your precious time making you read all that stuff here,all i can disclose is that we din't have a fight.
at around say one o'clock i locked my door,and switched on the allout(mosquito repellant with extra MMR...lol..our campus is endemic to malaria to add our pile of worries) and dissolved into many a dreams in my bed.i remember i had the fans moving at full speed and all...
at six around mum gave her usual wake up call,but i slept well beyond that as it was a saturday.as far as i remember my all out was burning bright then.
and you know what!!!!
next when i opend my holy eyes,my allout was switched off,the fans were switched off!!!
temme could that be a ghost??
like a cart wheel--
muscles shrink
skin wrinkles
no more
no more
the shackles
the bloody
four walled
enclosure
the cheeks
wet with
with tears
the heart
drenched in
dread
but sweat
like silver
shines on
and adorns
those no-more
meek shoulders
cries unheared
robbed and raped
no more
no more
she stands
the sun
and skin
turns tawny
out on
the streets
she sells
her body
her flesh
her love and labour
a voice
that speaks
shouts for
herself
not an enigma
not a charisma
but a woman
who runs the world
like a cart wheel
i donot rememeber which one....but on some internatioanl women's day...i saw some program on the tv...which inspired this poem....
skin wrinkles
no more
no more
the shackles
the bloody
four walled
enclosure
the cheeks
wet with
with tears
the heart
drenched in
dread
but sweat
like silver
shines on
and adorns
those no-more
meek shoulders
cries unheared
robbed and raped
no more
no more
she stands
the sun
and skin
turns tawny
out on
the streets
she sells
her body
her flesh
her love and labour
a voice
that speaks
shouts for
herself
not an enigma
not a charisma
but a woman
who runs the world
like a cart wheel
i donot rememeber which one....but on some internatioanl women's day...i saw some program on the tv...which inspired this poem....
nostalgia...
i hate being nostalgic.
it's all about those sultry sweaty afternoons meandering into my mind long after they are gone .when i am helpless with the thought that i can never get back my past.i can never go back.
nostalgia is also about rainy ,gloomy evenings.the joy of the rain washing the virgin earth.and the intoxication of the smell that so emanates.
nostalgia is about peeping from some corner of my window to get a glimpse of the full moon.its about star less nights.its about dreams that never met reality.
nostalgia is about the wind blowing through my hair.its about the endless greens that surrounded me,long ago.about the tranquil waters of the pond nearby.
about the cuckoo calling from the coconut and my whim to rush out and meet him.
nostalgia is about all that is lost,it's about pain and tears that have dried up.it's about my past.
but i will recall something i had read long ago
the past is not dead
the past is not even the past...
it's all about those sultry sweaty afternoons meandering into my mind long after they are gone .when i am helpless with the thought that i can never get back my past.i can never go back.
nostalgia is also about rainy ,gloomy evenings.the joy of the rain washing the virgin earth.and the intoxication of the smell that so emanates.
nostalgia is about peeping from some corner of my window to get a glimpse of the full moon.its about star less nights.its about dreams that never met reality.
nostalgia is about the wind blowing through my hair.its about the endless greens that surrounded me,long ago.about the tranquil waters of the pond nearby.
about the cuckoo calling from the coconut and my whim to rush out and meet him.
nostalgia is about all that is lost,it's about pain and tears that have dried up.it's about my past.
but i will recall something i had read long ago
the past is not dead
the past is not even the past...
Black and White
I was thinking about colours.And then thought that i would rather have it in my blog.Colours add to the charm of the things .Colours generate a hunger to live.Colours have more significance in our lives than we know.We owe so much to them.So much.
I have not seen much of colourless things.So they can trap me better.
Black and white!I dont think they are colours.And many of you people will agree.This piece is dedicated to these two intriguing characters that have arrested my mind since last night -- Black and White.
Well not many of us have seen the black and white television.I should have been born a little earlier or may be a lot earlier...no idea absolutely!!!So I never cared to visualise life without colour.Never had the time to...nor the interest.
Last night I went to the market(and came back all drenched) to repair my cycle.When the job was being done i strolled into a bookstall and started browsing through all the magazines,as if i could buy them all.I asked for India Today and Outlook.Din't feel like giving up forty bucks(20 for each).And then saw something new.
A magazine.I think I have forgotten what it was called(bless my memory!!!).I din't even wink before shelling out 50 bucks just for a caption that adorned its cover --"let me be me".I got it home.
And the first thing I did today moring after I opened my eyes was see all that it had.Something about the childhood of an indian girl--"little women-Dayanita Singh's photographss flash a light on Indian girlhood. " All of them were black and white.Not a tinge of colour anywhwere.And along with that the black letters gave me a feeling--I was sinking into them.
Thay had Indian girls,of course.But along with them were people indian girls cannot do without--other women ...mothers,grannies.
The dearth of colour made me think more and more.It directed my attention to the soul of what i was looking at.Now that I was just not looking at,I had begun observing.
I fell for the expressions that the eyes of the characters in withheld.Some said they were utterly satisfied with whatever.Some said they were exalted with their lives as a whole and desperately wanted to show it on their faces.Many had supressed feelings of anguish,pain,fear.Neatly supressed in some corner of those catchy eyes.
Many had raised eyebrows.All of them had questions.Innumerable!
Well, as I try to wind up, the name of the magazine comes back to me marie clarie.
I have not seen much of colourless things.So they can trap me better.
Black and white!I dont think they are colours.And many of you people will agree.This piece is dedicated to these two intriguing characters that have arrested my mind since last night -- Black and White.
Well not many of us have seen the black and white television.I should have been born a little earlier or may be a lot earlier...no idea absolutely!!!So I never cared to visualise life without colour.Never had the time to...nor the interest.
Last night I went to the market(and came back all drenched) to repair my cycle.When the job was being done i strolled into a bookstall and started browsing through all the magazines,as if i could buy them all.I asked for India Today and Outlook.Din't feel like giving up forty bucks(20 for each).And then saw something new.
A magazine.I think I have forgotten what it was called(bless my memory!!!).I din't even wink before shelling out 50 bucks just for a caption that adorned its cover --"let me be me".I got it home.
And the first thing I did today moring after I opened my eyes was see all that it had.Something about the childhood of an indian girl--"little women-Dayanita Singh's photographss flash a light on Indian girlhood. " All of them were black and white.Not a tinge of colour anywhwere.And along with that the black letters gave me a feeling--I was sinking into them.
Thay had Indian girls,of course.But along with them were people indian girls cannot do without--other women ...mothers,grannies.
The dearth of colour made me think more and more.It directed my attention to the soul of what i was looking at.Now that I was just not looking at,I had begun observing.
I fell for the expressions that the eyes of the characters in withheld.Some said they were utterly satisfied with whatever.Some said they were exalted with their lives as a whole and desperately wanted to show it on their faces.Many had supressed feelings of anguish,pain,fear.Neatly supressed in some corner of those catchy eyes.
Many had raised eyebrows.All of them had questions.Innumerable!
Well, as I try to wind up, the name of the magazine comes back to me marie clarie.
not original 2
No,I can’t let you go,not like this,with tear filled eyes,like someone you are not.You know,you mean my life to me and more .Don’t go and leaving me behind to cry alone ,don’t go.For the sake of my undying love ,don’t go;come back,please,come back.
But what if you don’t come back?
I shall never let you die in my heart.I will cherish you like nothing less than a part of my life, remember you as a phase I never wanted to overcome, a time I never wanted to leave behind,as a person I always loved and wanted to be loved by.You were not a passing fancy,or a fad.You were an aspect of my thoughts, which is sans boundaries .And my feelings for you ,are a reflection of what I am.A bundle of joy ,I am at loss of words,and can’t say more…..
But what if you don’t come back?
I shall never let you die in my heart.I will cherish you like nothing less than a part of my life, remember you as a phase I never wanted to overcome, a time I never wanted to leave behind,as a person I always loved and wanted to be loved by.You were not a passing fancy,or a fad.You were an aspect of my thoughts, which is sans boundaries .And my feelings for you ,are a reflection of what I am.A bundle of joy ,I am at loss of words,and can’t say more…..
khidkiyan...
Windows ,far away, lighted ones in amongst darkness,make me conspire against my peace of mind,and tranquility of the moment,give birth to all sorts of uncalled for, unhealthy,disastrous imagination,that drives many a men crazy. The glimpse of light oozing out of them compels me to reflect on the lives that breathe from within them and carries me away for a few minutes from my endless brooding,lift me up into my world.Ah! the wonder of distant windows! I wish I were inside one of them,far away from myself.And the pale lifeless light could swallow me in her arms,and I immerse in a unturbulent slumber,to be awoken only by love,and to be free from all cages,have all chains untied.And I accompanied by my whims can go along to breathe the air I have wanted to all my life so far…
haasil...
It’s a bit too late for a review, I know, but still I can’t stop myself from writing a one.I cannot find out whyt a film like “haasil” flopped.In a previous entry about ‘fanaa-destroyed in love’
I had given a hint regarding my inablility to like a single movie.I liked this one but-‘haasil’; after maye be ‘rang de basanti’.(To the dissapointment of many of you people ,I found even ‘rdb’ a little boring-but that’s another story).So my recent favourite was showed on dd national last Friday night.It stars jimmy shergil and a gal of unknown origin(‘coz I just remembered her face,her name had been wiped out of my memory,until a friend reminded me that she is da ‘asoka’ gal –hrishita bhatt.And there is Asutosh Rana(is killed before the interval) and of course ,Irfan Khan.All that escapes my lips when I think about him is –“woow!!!”
Why I liked the film? Well there are various reasons:
# The modest setting of the film,in some obscure small town(probably bihari or uttar pradeshi) with some university resembling a palace or something of that kind whicht invokes the whim to sink back into ages.I would have really loved it to be there.I don’t happen to like the Karan Johar kinda stuff these days.
#The man who plays jimmy’s nagging (I tried to use the mildest word around)dad asking questions and questions and only questions;dads are eggjactly like that!
#The very pragmatic love story(I have always appreciated naïve ones),shows how exactly young people in India’s huge middle class fall in love .It always starts with a letter and ends with one.And there is the song ‘ankhein to hoti hai dil ki zubaan’ -the eyes voice the heart.The rest of it ,again has been forgotten.
#And of course Irfan Khan (“woow!!!”).The wrinkles around his eyes paint him the shrewd shylock he plays,dialogues said with so much of precision, with malice and of course a touch of reality in them.And I liked the way he shot people ,dead,impulsively.
#Though this might sound kiddish,yet another reason was the happy ending-‘all is well that ends well’.The reassuarance that jimmy is not gonna end up in jail,when the CM pardons him for having murdered Irfan.This was because while all politicians are goondas first and then politicians ,our CM saab had been a school headmaster first.
#And then because of the villains uttering dailogues like ‘mouke ki nazzakat ko samjho’and ‘I like artists’.
#I will wind up writing a little about the climax scene that actually has compelled me to write this.
I can’t exactly translate the feelings into the perfect words ,but it made me realise that the feeling of being loved must have been wonderful.I felt jealous of the couple.
Our hero jimmy, hates tying his shoelace throughout the film ‘coz he thinks it to be a sheer waste of time.But at the end on his lady love’s saying so,he ties it.The idea behind I guess is that, he ties himself to hrishitta ,and that the free bird youth of his comes to end-as it time to settle down.
Some north-east guy has directed ‘haasil’(again a friend told me)-I din’t care to find out his name.
Hats off to him(though I am not wearing one,lol).But films like ‘haasil’ are rarely made these days…
I had given a hint regarding my inablility to like a single movie.I liked this one but-‘haasil’; after maye be ‘rang de basanti’.(To the dissapointment of many of you people ,I found even ‘rdb’ a little boring-but that’s another story).So my recent favourite was showed on dd national last Friday night.It stars jimmy shergil and a gal of unknown origin(‘coz I just remembered her face,her name had been wiped out of my memory,until a friend reminded me that she is da ‘asoka’ gal –hrishita bhatt.And there is Asutosh Rana(is killed before the interval) and of course ,Irfan Khan.All that escapes my lips when I think about him is –“woow!!!”
Why I liked the film? Well there are various reasons:
# The modest setting of the film,in some obscure small town(probably bihari or uttar pradeshi) with some university resembling a palace or something of that kind whicht invokes the whim to sink back into ages.I would have really loved it to be there.I don’t happen to like the Karan Johar kinda stuff these days.
#The man who plays jimmy’s nagging (I tried to use the mildest word around)dad asking questions and questions and only questions;dads are eggjactly like that!
#The very pragmatic love story(I have always appreciated naïve ones),shows how exactly young people in India’s huge middle class fall in love .It always starts with a letter and ends with one.And there is the song ‘ankhein to hoti hai dil ki zubaan’ -the eyes voice the heart.The rest of it ,again has been forgotten.
#And of course Irfan Khan (“woow!!!”).The wrinkles around his eyes paint him the shrewd shylock he plays,dialogues said with so much of precision, with malice and of course a touch of reality in them.And I liked the way he shot people ,dead,impulsively.
#Though this might sound kiddish,yet another reason was the happy ending-‘all is well that ends well’.The reassuarance that jimmy is not gonna end up in jail,when the CM pardons him for having murdered Irfan.This was because while all politicians are goondas first and then politicians ,our CM saab had been a school headmaster first.
#And then because of the villains uttering dailogues like ‘mouke ki nazzakat ko samjho’and ‘I like artists’.
#I will wind up writing a little about the climax scene that actually has compelled me to write this.
I can’t exactly translate the feelings into the perfect words ,but it made me realise that the feeling of being loved must have been wonderful.I felt jealous of the couple.
Our hero jimmy, hates tying his shoelace throughout the film ‘coz he thinks it to be a sheer waste of time.But at the end on his lady love’s saying so,he ties it.The idea behind I guess is that, he ties himself to hrishitta ,and that the free bird youth of his comes to end-as it time to settle down.
Some north-east guy has directed ‘haasil’(again a friend told me)-I din’t care to find out his name.
Hats off to him(though I am not wearing one,lol).But films like ‘haasil’ are rarely made these days…
i m stuck...
one bright sunny day,i went into the settings of ma blog,and altered something(i dun rmbr wot xatcly i did)and from then on i found the comments link missing in my entries,so if u something to say about those entries post them here...
not original 1
why is it always
the anonymous i talk to
the faceless who understands me
the random who puts me at peace
& the unknown, i fall in love with?
the anonymous i talk to
the faceless who understands me
the random who puts me at peace
& the unknown, i fall in love with?
whoz me?
It has been a long time I stopped thinking about myself. I have immersed myself in this world , thinking about people who hardly matter to me. I give them too much of importance.No one matters to me , but me.I’m my world.I’m my world.
I will live my life,unaffected by outsiders.I’m my life.Nothing from outside the frontiers of my mind will matter for me.And I am a believer of the free soul.So I will never cage mine.I’l let it fly free,free from all chains/bonds into the blue unknown,unfazed by the noise of the people who don’t matter.No one matters.
Let my soul fly like a falcon,over the barren desert perching wherever ,if it gets tired.Fly fly and fly away, beyond the last blue mountain.I’l be myself.I,Me,Myself.
I have run enough.Now I want to rest.I have cried enough.It’s high time now.And all my tears have dried.I have never had who either understood their value,or ever tried to wipe them out.Never.No one.
If I start pouring out my woes,my life will end,but ,my thing wouldn’t get over.
Most people have an affinity towards the good things about life-cheer,love,light,affection.One of the best writers I have come across(at times I despise him for his womanising skills) Khushwant Singh,says he has the calibre to feel hatred—he would ,if he could ,murder (of the first degree)all the people he hated with all his venom.
I am much like that—but the feeling is not hatred ,its pain.I can feel pain,even in the happiest moments of my life.Pain is not just a feel.
Pain is another woman who breathes within me.She never leaves me alone.She pokes her nose into every moment that I live.I can’t live without her either.She is the ember who keeps the fire in my hearth burning,my heart beating.
At times I want to leave myself and her behind,and surrender,surrender to the divine ,die.Yes,I want to die at times.And I’m always waiting, with arms outstreched, for the divine hug .
I will live my life,unaffected by outsiders.I’m my life.Nothing from outside the frontiers of my mind will matter for me.And I am a believer of the free soul.So I will never cage mine.I’l let it fly free,free from all chains/bonds into the blue unknown,unfazed by the noise of the people who don’t matter.No one matters.
Let my soul fly like a falcon,over the barren desert perching wherever ,if it gets tired.Fly fly and fly away, beyond the last blue mountain.I’l be myself.I,Me,Myself.
I have run enough.Now I want to rest.I have cried enough.It’s high time now.And all my tears have dried.I have never had who either understood their value,or ever tried to wipe them out.Never.No one.
If I start pouring out my woes,my life will end,but ,my thing wouldn’t get over.
Most people have an affinity towards the good things about life-cheer,love,light,affection.One of the best writers I have come across(at times I despise him for his womanising skills) Khushwant Singh,says he has the calibre to feel hatred—he would ,if he could ,murder (of the first degree)all the people he hated with all his venom.
I am much like that—but the feeling is not hatred ,its pain.I can feel pain,even in the happiest moments of my life.Pain is not just a feel.
Pain is another woman who breathes within me.She never leaves me alone.She pokes her nose into every moment that I live.I can’t live without her either.She is the ember who keeps the fire in my hearth burning,my heart beating.
At times I want to leave myself and her behind,and surrender,surrender to the divine ,die.Yes,I want to die at times.And I’m always waiting, with arms outstreched, for the divine hug .
old things...
old things
often lie
in some silent corner
uncared for
old things are
to be forgotten
to be left behind by us
we have to keep pace
old things are
to be come across
once in years
& forgotten again
old things
gather rust
& even if they don’t
they are to be done away with
old things
cannot deserve
our attention
we are busy
of the old things
a few are
antique & immortal
like the ‘monalisa’
but what of those
which are not,
which go gray
and white with time
old memories
old people?
often lie
in some silent corner
uncared for
old things are
to be forgotten
to be left behind by us
we have to keep pace
old things are
to be come across
once in years
& forgotten again
old things
gather rust
& even if they don’t
they are to be done away with
old things
cannot deserve
our attention
we are busy
of the old things
a few are
antique & immortal
like the ‘monalisa’
but what of those
which are not,
which go gray
and white with time
old memories
old people?
destroyed in love...
tere dil main mere sanso ko panah mil jaye
tere ishq meri jaan fanaa hojaye…..
i think the time is ripe for a review,i went to a theatre after more than a year.. the movie was worth watching in a hall..that’s all I can say….well, none of the films are actually worth the hype that make the market tremble from much before their advent..but I donot regret having dragged the whole lot of six people in the dead of the night …I saw people like me..strict movie buffs…young guys..bloody guys…always ready to shoot out their comments, their quiver never seems to empty.well I happen to like it when such things are done on people who deserve that kind of behaviour ie people who are actually borinng I despise it with all the venom when it is done on women;if it is a sensuous scene at all all I expect people to do is to keep their filthy tounges from whistling…n shut your divine eyes if at all it is that unbearable….but donot make it a travesty…for the sake of the hoi polloi….we still exist….
And yes about the film…kajol had never ever looked so intoxicating…I being a woman give this my stamp without the slightest of green feeling …well she is so enchanting in the first half an hour that no one else on earth has the precision to say that the make up people could have in any ways made her more enchanting…she looks her ever best…for that matter any woman’s best….
amir has those marks of age distinctive on his face now…particularly in the first part….may be he got a face lift in the second part,he manages to have that “I am younger than you think I am” kinda look…and may be I am just used to his acting skills that I can do nothing more than taking it all for granted …I know that is like not giving someone credit for what he is ….but can’t help ….i just cant manage to eulogise the actor for his excellence which according to many others is extinct today….
The story is good…the script must have been better…its fresh…very new….not a bit of plagiarism in it….
But the news for the time is that the film lacks something…somewhere something very vital has been left behind which could have made me kinda satisfied after I saw the whole thing….and the bigger news is that I am gradully turning out to be a very efficient film critic(because I happen to like none of the films these days…absolutely none)..so here is another way to earn the fast bucks …lol…
Good night!!!!
tere ishq meri jaan fanaa hojaye…..
i think the time is ripe for a review,i went to a theatre after more than a year.. the movie was worth watching in a hall..that’s all I can say….well, none of the films are actually worth the hype that make the market tremble from much before their advent..but I donot regret having dragged the whole lot of six people in the dead of the night …I saw people like me..strict movie buffs…young guys..bloody guys…always ready to shoot out their comments, their quiver never seems to empty.well I happen to like it when such things are done on people who deserve that kind of behaviour ie people who are actually borinng I despise it with all the venom when it is done on women;if it is a sensuous scene at all all I expect people to do is to keep their filthy tounges from whistling…n shut your divine eyes if at all it is that unbearable….but donot make it a travesty…for the sake of the hoi polloi….we still exist….
And yes about the film…kajol had never ever looked so intoxicating…I being a woman give this my stamp without the slightest of green feeling …well she is so enchanting in the first half an hour that no one else on earth has the precision to say that the make up people could have in any ways made her more enchanting…she looks her ever best…for that matter any woman’s best….
amir has those marks of age distinctive on his face now…particularly in the first part….may be he got a face lift in the second part,he manages to have that “I am younger than you think I am” kinda look…and may be I am just used to his acting skills that I can do nothing more than taking it all for granted …I know that is like not giving someone credit for what he is ….but can’t help ….i just cant manage to eulogise the actor for his excellence which according to many others is extinct today….
The story is good…the script must have been better…its fresh…very new….not a bit of plagiarism in it….
But the news for the time is that the film lacks something…somewhere something very vital has been left behind which could have made me kinda satisfied after I saw the whole thing….and the bigger news is that I am gradully turning out to be a very efficient film critic(because I happen to like none of the films these days…absolutely none)..so here is another way to earn the fast bucks …lol…
Good night!!!!
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