Neo-potty-poet-ree

Jive a frown away

2012-02-06T09:00:00.001+05:30

At breakfast you sit

feeling down.

Your brow knit

into a frown.

The days are large and often looming.

You miss the birds and flowers, blooming.

A suitcase of apprehension and full of doubt -

What luggage to pick up when stepping out!

At lunch you sit

feeling down.

Your brow knit

into a frown.

The path ahead's not always clear

but sound advice is usually near.

Perhaps it's just a phase of the moon.

Whatever it is, it will pass soon.

At tea you sit

feeling down.

Your brow knit

into a frown.

Look around and you will find

a gentle hand or word, kind.

A film, a person, or even a book -

It could be any, if you'll look.

At dinner you sit

feeling down.

Your brow knit

into a frown.

Before you sleep, you think a while -

Look back to find a cause to smile.

The night now seems crisp and bright.

Tomorrow, perhaps, will begin right.

In dream you dance

and feel alive.

You take a chance

at even a jive.

Written on the twentieth

2012-01-22T00:09:00.001+05:30

It's one of those days when all around, good wishes and smiles will surround me. Friends from yesterday and those who've only recently come and chose to share a moment or a word or a glance, when they heard that today was today, came along, to say 'hey'. It was a lovely thing to do. And to each and every one of you, I extend my warmest and my best and I'd like to say a big THANK YOU.

What rhymes with rhythm?

2012-01-21T23:33:00.001+05:30

The piece begins with simple beat,
not even penta, just the four.
A message into this to pour
is not always a simple feat.

Does prose have rhythm?
Can prose have rhyme?
Am I looking through a prism
and will it be a crime?

Clash of the forms

2012-01-06T21:53:00.001+05:30

Is it true that poetry is not just about the rhyme? Of course there is the one-two-three (while the fingers tap in time). It's so compelling and fulfilling, to culminate a sentence thus: with a dance of fingers, feet and mind. It's a super stimulus. It was good advice from a very sound source: respected, educated, well-read, of course. But another had shared yet another juicy view that when something burst forth, only then follow through.

Neither is law and neither misinformed. I will do both and both shall adorn this space of mine where rhythm meets rhyme – Time to grow and change, no? It will be written from within and every day the other will win and both shall be equally real and I'll try to stay true to what I feel.

New

2012-01-01T09:19:00.003+05:30

Late night's

bright lights

blaze with no warning:

memories in the morning.

Dance: drop the wine;

chance: "drop me a line";

tonight, the moment's

yours and mine;

said to be providence,

perhaps divine.

Hugs and wishes,

farewell kisses,

missed sunrises,

new-year promises:

the branded night and tag-line morning are come and gone and now are done;

the year ahead's the season's flavour: gladly, it was well-begun.

Luny Day

2011-12-20T07:26:00.001+05:30

What the hell is it about bloody Mondays?

Is it about the end of a hangover-haze?

Guilt-ridden compensation for the weekend's laze?

Do people jump awake

and do a double take

at the enormity of the innane targets that they chase?

What an invention, these bloody Mondays!

Care to chance?

2011-12-18T09:39:00.001+05:30

Chances and prances may oft lead to dances
and dances and chances are age-old friends.
But dances are not assured with prances,
given the off-beat message it sends.

A self portrait by a small ball of white fur that sits on the bed.

2011-12-17T09:57:00.001+05:30

Reality's in my eyes.

Contentment is my purr.

Dawn shall break when I rise

and clean my pristine fur.

There shall be food when I mew,

there shall be love when I'm due -

And I am due when I wish:

It's like the salmon in my dish.

Call my name with all your might;

I'll turn on a whim.

Pick me up without the right:

your fingers get a trim.

The noise and mayhem of the world

disappear when I am curled.

I live on simple terms and ask little of life:

To eat, sleep, purr and be left away from strife.

I have been called

and shall again

be known ever more

as the epitome of beauty,

grace and elegance -

oh, what a bore!

Reeling

2011-11-21T18:26:00.002+05:30

Something's been up with reality. It seems to have lost some tenacity.
Reality sits in a reel and appeals that it's less real.
The appeal to be real reels and ends in a fatality.
Colours and shapes always show - even through a haze, a definite glow.
Just out of reach, like they're there, but not. Like fairies that would disappear when caught.
Something's been up with reality. It's losing some fatality.

Morning form

2011-09-22T08:57:00.001+05:30

Come now, there must be more of my heart I can outpour.
This form grants such fluidity, yet direction and solidity.
The morning blooms bright and shiny, far from glooms and demons, whiny.
The sun is high, in a crystal sky; the leaves are lush with a full, fresh green. The day ahead is far from bed: it begins to catch the dreams one's seen.
Yellow flowers in the garden, at a height of a full six feet, say, "The nightly dark, we pardon and have come, the dawn to meet."

Form

2011-09-19T19:22:00.001+05:30

It's sad to see my blog shrivel. (I'll not say die, in denial.)
I say I look to be inspired, but of the muses, I find none. I say the world is way too wired. The blame game is just no fun.
Perhaps an exploration of a new form and style will lead to inspiration from within, at least, a while.
As I write, I like the flow, I feel the energy slowly grow. A budding blossom from a storm: inspiration from a form.

Dot, the I

2011-07-13T11:25:00.002+05:30

I'm standing out on Neptune, the outermost world.

Pluto's a hop away, where I sleep, soft and curled.

I look deep to the distant land where rumor says is origin.

I look out to open space and wonder where... where else I've been.

Space-time curves down to Sol.

Shouldn't it rather lead to a soul?

I can be lord, I can be master, I can serve them without a wince.

I am a god, I am the devil, like so many, I am the Prince.

Lunch

2011-06-27T15:21:00.001+05:30

An elderly man sat across the table.
(This actually happened, it isn't a fable)
He placed the order for his food -
Finger Chips! (Perhaps a fast. Perhaps a mood.)

The waiter then noticed the small box emerge.
He was trained about scamsters - Oh! What a scourge!
"No external food!", he said pointing to the box.
He had caught the man red-handed - the wily fox!

The old man smiled, wrinkling his features.
He said, "My boy, these are my dentures."

Mo-mint

2011-03-27T15:24:00.001+05:30

Give me a moment.

Give me a mint.

Forget the hues,

give me a tint.

Forget a laugh, I'll take a smile.

They're what add up to joy in a while.

Bumpy roads, here's an ode.

2011-03-24T18:00:00.001+05:30

Bumpy road to everwhere.

Roads quite bumpy.

The rhythm's mad, if you care:

One, in three-and-twenty.

Drive over the nasty bumps;

Leave them be.

Leave the bumps in the dumps;

Leave them be.

Don't worry: rock or sand;

Leave them be.

Don't worry; paws or hands;

Leave them be.

Don't look for fur or blood;

Leave them be.

Move on from eyes with mud;

Leave them be.

Let them go, the tears and smiles;

Leave them be.

A mere ponder on cunning wiles;

Leave them be.

They're from a different world, so

Leave them be.

We're here so we can go.

Leave them be.

They were born to a different route;

Leave them be.

Worrying how to help is moot;

Leave them be.

Leave them be; the wise have said,

Leave them be.

They're not alive; bumps are dead.

Leave them be.

Sometimes

2011-03-21T15:00:00.001+05:30

Knotty, sometimes nice.
Sugar, sometimes spice.
Lemons, sometimes tarts.
Bitter, sometimes hearts.
Comfort, sometimes numbs.
Toast, sometimes crumbs.
Think, sometimes a thought.
Stink, sometimes a pot.
Bottle, sometimes a-void.
Pink, sometimes Floyd.

Tuesday

2010-12-15T10:39:00.001+05:30

An idol Tuesday
is now away.
Or was it an idle one?
(if you'll pardon the pun)
Hardly, given
that I'd driven
from the wrong side of the tracks
to the posh chateaus, and back,
trying to churn
some bread to earn.

Today's batter
is next month's dough.
Ideas matter,
but also whom you know.
There were slips.
Focus on one hand
and the balance tips.
The trick is to understand
and pull up before the ship dips.

It ended well,
with the smell
of a decent wine;
decent, less than fine.

Also
a film named after the big 'O',
good company,
KFC,
and four ladies, lovely,
in my chat window.

:)

Imagine...

2010-12-08T17:37:00.002+05:30

Imagine,
if Lennon
had not died,
and succeeded
in changing
the world, the way he tried.

Imagine,
if Chapman
had been the one to die
or missed
reading
the Catcher in the rye.

If John and Yoko had stayed in that night;
if David and Kathryn had worked on their plight;
if the vacuum hose pipe had not disintegrated;
if while jumping off Liberty's Statue, he had not hesitated;

Could John have stopped
a single soldier?
Could John have prevented
a single war?
Could he have brought forth
just one more pacifist?
Could his words have impacted
even a single terrorist?

The thing is, we'll never know;
it's the road not taken.
At the altar of psychosis,
a great mind was forsaken.

Many miss you John.
Peaceful slumber!
Your brief lessons,
we'll try to remember.

Bombay, baby!

2010-11-28T15:24:00.001+05:30

Will this city ever sleep
and allow people to just meet?
Will this city calm down
and not worry about suburb and town?
Will its pace ever lower
and allow the smelling of a flower?
Will this city switch gears
to allow someone to draw near?

These questions are not new.
It is why people are drawn to
this financial capital,
this rat-race haven.
If you're not born here,
you move here out of craving.

Crave the height,
crave the pace,
crave the dream
to change your face.

You must crave,
you must be hungry.
It's what separates the stars
from all sorts and sundry.

You must crave, you must be hungry.
The mantra to success.
Do or do not, there is no try
in the pursuit of happyness.

This week that was

2010-08-09T13:33:00.001+05:30

This week that was has happened before.

It was and will be perhaps once more.

Decades ago these fires did burn

and history repeats as the clock-hands turn.

Little boy - Hiroshima - 70,000 killed instantly

Coronal mass ejections from the Sun

Tagore's death

Wildfires in Russia - 50 killed, thousands of homes destroyed

Flooding in Pakistan - 1,600 killed, 12 million affected

Flooding in Leh - 130 killed, 500 missing

Fat man - Nagasaki - 39,000 killed instantly

Landslide in China - 127 killed, 2,000 missing

History, this week, these events did pen.

Some in the 1940's, some in 2010.

D'rty d'rty...

2010-07-23T15:25:00.006+05:30

Created this for a purpose. Never did use it.

2010-05-08T08:57:00.000+05:30

Boof, eh?

2010-03-22T19:38:00.000+05:30

They won't wake up anytime

Except maybe dinnertime

Sleepy town

It's not your fault...

... Shame to you, I shay!

2010-01-01T10:46:00.001+05:30

And so the new year dawns on us!

... or some such tried and tested way to open a piece. But I must write something on the 1st of Jan. For every self-respecting blogger worth the salt that came to epitomise the freedom struggle of a nation, must.

'Tis the new beginning of the eternal cycle. 'tis a time to rejoice new birth and fresh opportunities; to cast off the old and ring in the new; to bury old demons and seek new ones... (no, that last one was off).

But it occurs to me that this 1st Jan business is also dependant on the frame of reference. I mean, it is based on a certain frame of reference and certain chosen calendar that we describe today as the first day of the year. Of course, you know this, as do I.

So given that we (you and I) are so well informed, do we still hold true to those classic phrases? Put your best foot forward; Well begun is half done; Every journey begins with a single step.

As an aside, that phrase of 'well begun is half done' had me royally confused for large part of my life. When I first heard it, I thought it meant that everything that is well begun would get left half done. Heh... Spent many a year worrying about things that began well.

Anyway, getting back to my glorious new year post... depending on the frame of reference, any day and, in fact, every day can be the first day of the year. I shall resolve to work out everyday and aim at being healthier from February 3rd onwards. That is my new year's resolution for the year from 3rd Feb to 3rd Feb. Ha!

Well... just a rambling post, this.

Didn't do much on this famed night. Read the horrorscopes this morning for the year looming ahead. Being a cusp, I'm often amused at figuring out which part of which zodiac to believe. Heh

Oh, you know, going by this calendar, the first decade of the 21st Century is also over. We're in the second now. Quite a ten years, it's been

So, to give a pretentiously formed but sincerely intended sign-off:

To all those whose lives I may have touched these past ten years, and who may chance upon this page,

All happiness and joy to you!

A cool line I had heard long ago, and recently stated, that I felt I must write.

2009-12-26T10:24:00.001+05:30

The world is full of fools.
But there comes a time when you have to decide, if you're a fool among fools, or a fool alone.

6

2009-12-26T10:14:00.000+05:30

Six weeks... haven't felt like writing.

Even this is my pushing myself. It is like a muscle, I'm told, that must be exercised.

I went through some of the stuff I had written in the past, even stuff that isn't on this page. There was always a trend to churn out interesting work from the darkest moments of life. Somehow that seemed to always be the source.

And it occurs to me that that is laziness. Of course it is easy to write from a troubled mind. And it fits in with exactly the larger picture.

Give me a couch.
Give me a show.
I'll eat and I'll be
a freakin' potato!

I'm bloody LAZY! And it's a horrible thing to be.

Well... at least it would be if I allowed it to reign.

I figured, just as I move my well-shaped posterior to get out of a lazy slump and work and live life and be with friends and do all those jazzy things that self-help book writers make millions writing about, I should move my equally well shaped mind to write.

And so I shall...

First... find a muse...

To use a muse, you must

Amuse a muse.

Never ask a muse to amuse you.

For a muse is not amusement to be taken.

She says, I am! Use me! and gives.

So use a muse with care to amuse and not be amused.

Okay... I'll be back.
(and as a friend put it... You be Beethoven).

Starry

2009-11-12T22:57:00.004+05:30

I was remembering my debut as a director of a full-fledged play. (Pictures recently added to the side bar).

It's an interesting bond that develops with the team. It's quite different from the perspective of an actor, which is what I had experienced up until then. I got to know the people on my cast, and they did, indeed, become MY cast. I probably got to know them in a very different and deeper way (a different point of depth in their respective psyches) than I would have as friends. They also came to mean more to me and, again, differently.

I'm not saying that there was a major psychic connection or that we have all bonded for life and shall, in spirit, be inseparable. Please, let us not trivialise this by exaggerating it.

It's just that when I think back to that process, that play, that period, there is a certain warm feeling, whose nature is quite unique. And being the director, I take it that comes from MY cast.

They were a nice group. They are nice people. It would be nice to cross paths again.

Random wRitings thanks to Rae!

2009-11-11T22:32:00.001+05:30

First comment posted on my blog today. Felt I had to write something.

So, apparently, a cyclone came up, took one look at Bombay, tucked tail and turned away.

Pleasantly, this is the coolest I have ever felt this city. I didn't know that temperatures here were actually capable of dropping below 28deg C. Ah well... cynical old me. Live and learn.

I can't stand heat. So, what am I doing in Bombay? Well, somethings have to be borne for others to be achieved.

It was coincidental that the weather was pleasant today. I had some news that offered me some long awaited relief. Offered... not conferred, yet. But although nothing has been finalised and my conscious mind is still waiting and wary, my subconscious just took the apple. Couldn't help it. Feel the relief!!!!

Hopefully reality won't leave that castle hanging in mid-air and there actually will be a multi-storey building holding it up when the clouds clear. Till such time, we wait and work.

In thirteen days, it'll have been two years since my dog died. I don't know if I'll write something on that day, but I feel like writing now.
He loved me unconditionally. They do that. I loved him. He was old, weak and had lost many facilities towards the end. And I had no courage towards the end.
I remember him for his marvelous self in his life. I remember him for the wonderful joy he brought to mine. And I wonder if, at the time, I didn't appreciate it.
If I visit that house where he lived, my ears still prick up to hear his footsteps. I could always hear him. Still do, sometimes.

I'm on another conversation about solutions and pain-killers. They can be so tempting, these magical camouflages. And we're obviously not discussing Brufin and Nise. However, in whatever form and for whatever reason, they are always capable of becoming an addiction. (Not that the other party of this conversation is in any danger of this. Said party too smart. This just tangent thought. Ugh!)

I read about the current prevailing theory that neandertals co-existed with homo sapiens and that they (gasp!) inter-bred. Couldn't help pondering on how things would be if neanderthals hadn't gone extinct and were still around today. Ah! How society would have been different. Two species co-existing on equal terms.
OR WOULD THEY?
Two more possibilities of what happened all those millenia ago - One killed off the other. (guess who did who in) OR They actually did dilute one another's gene pool and resulting mixed-breed is the currently dominant race on the planet... complete with internet technology. Oonga booga!

Sometimes the yo-yo like behaviour of the mind is boggling. (mind-boggling, that is). At some point one feels supremely large and looks at everything from a self-centric perspective. At other points one realises the insignificant size of one's part in such large and expanding universe.

Sometimes helps to take comfort from the ponderings and discourses of the two greatest philosophers of our times - Calvin and Hobbes.

Dinner calls, the day closes, lights begin to disappear, some sections of society decide to rest thier heads. Another cycle shall soon begin. Ironic to feel this in a city that never sleeps.

So many people, so many minds, so many lives. Invariably, all touch one another in some way. Whom have I touched?... Ponderings just waft through what sometimes feels like an empty skull.

Thank you Rae, for writing. You triggered this cascade of thoughts. Better out than in, I've been told.

Goodnight all.

Buzz

2009-11-01T13:08:00.000+05:30

Two cups of coffee, sittin' in the kidney

M-I-X-X-I-N-G-G!

Bounce, crash, boom, bang, on and off the white wall

May not be a good idea after all.

Samhain

2009-10-31T22:28:00.000+05:30

The cycle ends. And in that ending goes on forever more.

"All is Vanity" by C. Allan Gilbert.

see-saw

2009-10-31T11:52:00.000+05:30

i have to write i have to write i have to find a thing to write i'll write a writ of written words to rattle all the city's nerds without a single punctuation make some sense from this locution take from this some inspiration leave it here for all damnation someone will if someone cares to read my blog if someone dares

A laugh in the dark recesses of my mind...

2009-10-29T21:42:00.000+05:30

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

Everyone must... Fight their demons!

In different forms. To each his own.

Demon is as person do.

From roots are born his flesh and bone.

A different form for me and you.

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

Everyone wants to fight their demons!

The weapons different, each unlike.

A diffent face to face and fear.

For some the subtle - thought and psych.

For some the strong exterior.

Varunaastra

Pashupataastra

Agniaastra

Vayuaastra

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

The scriptures teach to fight your demons!

What works for you will not for me.

What works for me will not for you.

Your face of fear is yours to see.

With mine your arrow just won't do!

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

When all else fails in the fight of demons

Bring the biggest killer of demons.

Cure the disease by killing the patient.

Brahmaastra!

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

Before it's late and you are a demon!

Fight the demons! Fight the demons!

Your charioteer is a strong weapon.

Knowing how to guide you through

The forest, dark and full of demons!

It is interesting to look at some of the stories of the ancients from an introspective light. I mean, the analogy is pretty obvious... Not literally a physical demonic being with inhuman facilities, but that aspect of a person's mind that causes harm to the self and those who are close.

Perhaps it wasn't a demon-king from a faraway island that abducted the queen, but metaphorically just the husband's base-animal selfish lust being battled... are we talking domestic rape? The devoted brother and dear dear friend who do not lay down their lives, literally, but dare to risk their relationship with their friend just to see that he stays a good person.

The battlefield is within.

And speaking of that loyal friend... That charioteer, that Saarathy... Always there to help guide you through the toughest of times. Somehow, always knowing when the love has to be 'tough' and kicking you in the behind with a greater good in mind.

Yes, to that being, to that concept, I would bow.

Bon soir

2009-10-29T18:21:00.000+05:30

Paris... Autumn...
Café au lait... Gorgeous legs... "Qu'est-ce-que vous faites ici?"...
Café noir... Gentle smile... "Hoping to fall in love."

Skeletons in the closet are admissible as evidence.

2009-10-24T11:22:00.004+05:30

Nobody really writes about their dark side, do they?
Oh there's tons of stuff written about being depressed and feeling blue, or indigo or whatever. Feeling sad and feeling bad have been writers' and poets' anchor to their craft for ages. But feeling low, sorrow, pain, etc. is not the dark side.
I mean the side that you don't show very easily. The violent side, for example... the side that will galdly and calmly run a razor through a jugular... simply because it takes longer than the corotid.
Oh, again there is a lot that is written, releasing this side of the writer's psyche... action films, noir poetry, parody comedies, the exploits of Charlie Chaplin. But not much is written directly about it... is it?
And it doesn't have to be depressing.
I mean why should it be all pain and suffering for the actual wielder of the razor? Certainly, a thought to rotate a head until the neck snaps... with a smile... would have had cause for provokation. After all, we're not ruled by homicidal delusions, are we?
So, why don't we show this side? The veneer of society, of course. That hypocritical concept of a conscience!
Heaven forbid that an individual harbours thoughts of violence... No no... lock him up and erradicate him from the world. But it is quite all right to do much much worse under the banner of security for the nation.
Geographically clustered parties of the same species engaging in the wanton destruction of millions of lives, in disputes over imaginary boundaries drawn on the surface of the planet and over equally imaginary beliefs of "good" and "evil". That's war. And that's justified.
Imagine... A copper-jacketed lead object, approximately 7.6 mm in diameter and 54 mm in length, travelling at sonic speeds (that's near the speed of sound) while spinning at approximately 300,000 revolutions per minute, enters the chest of a person. Now, the sheer power of this projectile makes it continue to move through this unlucky person and exit out the back of his/her body. Perhaps, as the fates would have it, this object has not touched the heart and only ripped half a lung. This person now lies on the ground (obviously), bleeding, burning, dying in the midst of chaos which is the rest of the battlefield. This is a painful, gruesome and most terribly, a slow death. But it's justified. Isn't it?
The cure for all of man's neighbourly problems:High-velocity cranial lead therapy
... translated... a bullet through the brain.
It isn't surprising that most of the greatest technological advancements have been triggered by the development of weapons (defense, warfare, whatever you want to call it). But it's okay... Humans are instinctively a violent species. Perhaps we should accept that and stop being hypocritical about it. Perhaps then we can think about the next stage of evolution.
Well... I'll get back to cleaning my razor now.

Osus caffeine

2009-10-22T10:34:00.004+05:30

This word 'copious' seems to be quite popular these days.
"I was drinking copious amounts of wine"
"They found copious quantities of cocaine up her bum"

Copious, comes from Latin copiosus, copia (supply) + -osus (full of) and it means 'abundant', or 'profuse', or 'great in quantity'.

So, I wonder if the amount of coffee I drink is considered "copious". I mean, how much is 4 cups a day?

But, what this doesn't account for is quality. Those who know me, know the kind of coffee I drink. So, does quality throw a different light on the whole thing?

It is rare that I find the good stuff North of Deccan plateau. But, I guess that is the mark of a true metropolitan city - almost anything is available, if you know where to look. And, this is really good stuff that I found. Merci, Mumbai!

I think I'd do well trying to market a good brand of coffee... Provided I like it. Like a Kalmane, or Lavazza. I mean, I'd believe in it.
Also Chocolate... G&B's, Valrhona, even Lindt.
Also Wine...
Also Whiskey...

Oh sigh!

I'll get back to my cuppa now.

Hello...

2009-10-21T23:45:00.001+05:30

"
The world is full of fools.
But, there comes a time when you have to decide, if you want to be a fool among fools, or a fool alone.
"
- Dolly Levi

Must learn new language

2009-10-21T16:19:00.000+05:30

I can always tell when a dog smiles. I learnt that.
I can't tell a cat's smile. I still haven't learnt the language of cats fully.

I know "hungry". I know "I wanna play". I know "I'm so cute. Let me stay out a little while longer". But I still don't know the smile.

In time...

The first. Okay?

2009-10-21T15:49:00.000+05:30

Who said I do everything five years too late?
So what if I'm down a score and a half and this is my first blog. So what?
It's okay!
Okay??
Okay!
Who said I do everything five years too late?
You didn't! So just keep reading!
Who said I could write poetry? I didn't! You didn't!

Well, have you ever tried to write a simple sentence in iamb?
And then of all the things to get the bloody thing to bloody rhyme?

Well... I don't know what I'm going to write here. Let's just see. Okay?
Okay!