This is what four brains would fabricate that too in this cottage…
Venue: Cloud’s End, 10 kms uphill Mussoorie
Date: October 2, 2004
“Once I was in Cloud’s End. There was a rat along with us. I found a hole on the roof-top. Rain drops were falling out of it. I felt like having hot soup. and by God’s grace there was soup in my hands. We realised that Mr Negi was missing. And his nails were found floating in my soup. Suddenly there was a thunderstorm and Mr Negi re-appeared. Someone woke me up. And then he was seen in Indian Express. There was an earthquake. And the toilet paper ran through the flush. I was shaking hands with Mr. Clinton. He was seen in his undies. With Monica Lewinsky holding his cigarette butt. Then she gave haircut to George Bush. And we found later that he wasn’t George Bush but Osama Bin Laden….lololol ”
Supplied by me, pj, ak and pp.
Written on Wednesday, October 06, 2004
I am an artist by living, and my work of art is my life
I would want to know more about your life Mr Suzuki – living or dead. Read more and write even more about the same. We all realise how we spent our lives, once we at least get midway or farther with our endless insane misinterpretations suiting our own agendas giving a million judgements in half a minute.
We bring a national hero Rajyavardhan Rathor home. We bow down to a road rager bollywood hero who just donated a crore. But yet crucify a Dhananjoy and his family with a single rope. We also read about how Avantika Maken embraced her parent’s killers. We remember Bipasha basu and forget P T Usha. We adore Aishwarya’s beauty and hate her choice of clothes in the same breath. We forget Mother Teresa’s death anniversary and remember Diana’s in the same month. And still take pride in our channel of thoughts and have Big Fights with Rajdeep Sardesais.
The list could be endless cause our miseries cloud our minds and we just read such quotations in quotes and feel good.
Written on Monday, October 11, 2004
There was a sense of urgency because time was running out, the opportunity was cruel and mean. The stolen moments were entwined on that branch of old wood which hung in that gorge of peccadillo. It hung in the ether as though she said ‘statue’ to her. And then the broken glasses flew in the air and stood still…the moment was captured into a sculpture. Tiny trumpets blew into the ears blocking all incoming signals. Now all these were indelible plus time. Timeless.
Written on Wednesday, October 13, 2004
The sound of surrender was deafening with the fate perching on the top of that rocky mountain, watching that lone eagle, just released, on its unending expedition, mocking at the ego which takes a bungee jump and knows that the last point of return does not exist.
In the untruth of the moment, a hollow consolation in longing was sensed as a higher bliss than wearing the mask of togetherness in a named whirlpool.
Written on Saturday, October 16, 2004
There was a story that begins and ends, sensational in its own right which might seem so wrong to the unending melange of meaningless. Strided undeterred, sometimes in the mind, like a tale in the books unwritten, they flew like pieces of me hither-thither.
And now i gather them sometimes from the beach in the midnight, sometimes from his wine glass, some i found on my corset, some were under the bed – they were those fumbled words, sometimes from the sweat on my brow, some when i hear the song by Whitney Houston – Heartbreak Hotel, sometimes in the reason for existence, in the broken rules and also when I write this.
Written on Friday, October 22, 2004
We all forget or cease to think..and keep wanting more..Like ‘Dil Maange more’ is so right a campaign. We want endlessly for that one or two. For which we even roll in the mud and even do a cross country trek. It evidently shows how much we value the existing achievements, if it is there then it is diminishing today and more tomorrow. So much so that we even commit a Nafisa.
No human being is rational. I bet we all can shock each other anytime depending on the soul mechanism at that particular time multiplied by absence of mind. And the outcome is mostly ugly. I strongly believe there are always jolts which shudders all of us time to time.
I always remember a very uplifting story from my seventh standard text book by Christian Bernard titled “In Celebration of Being Alive,” which was out of his biography. In it he tells of an incident involving two physically disabled/handicapped kids at a hospital who were really sick and the doctors weren’t even sure of how long they would live, merrily raced through the corridors of the hospital with a cart. Bernard goes on to say that we should celebrate being alive because even that is not a bad state to be in. Not because I see it is as, “at least I’m doing better than that” but because I like to believe that things will get better some day… and till then I am..
Like Cadbury’s punchline ‘Celebrating Life’.
Written on Saturday, October 23, 2004
Last week was an action packed one for me. I got a promotion from being a Design Head to Team Head (Online Operations). And the most touching mail that I got I need to put it up here cos it deserves to be here.
Wanted to wish you a luck for your new avtaar
It is pleasant to have you as a team leader
The one who is not a boss but a leader
Every business needs someone like you
Someone who has high standards, someone who is always on top of things
Someone who always has a smile for you and most of all,
Someone who won’t take any BS.
We are lucky to have you, and there’s not a soul here who isn’t happy to see you in command.
You really know your work, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll prove one of the secrets of modern management.
Again wish you a luck, and may god bless you.
My sincere thanks to you Rattan, I shall put in my very best to live it up always.
Written on Thursday, November 04, 2004
Like that sculpture from the recluse cave
Holding onto the flitting rays of a lone candle
Steps on the cold ripples over the singing stream
Hearing a whisper that sounded like a promise
Takes a deep breath, in the reflection
Gazes at her first expression.
Written on Thursday, November 04, 2004
I was deeply shocked to read about Shama Futehally Chowdhury’s passing away today, in the newspaper. She had been my neighbour some years back and i always remember her to be so very pleasant whenever she met me and can never forget how she once made my day by saying ‘you look so beautiful like a rose and a lotus in one’. It has been till date the best compliment I have ever recieved. I wonder what had happened to her, how she died. She must have been just 50 something.
She was theatre scholar, faculty member of National School of Drama and a well known writer.
May her soul always rest in peace.
Written on Friday, December 03, 2004
Cross-examining a misguess of a vast audience to have heard, understood loud and unclear and interpreted in the manner as I would have forced them to believe along the echoes of my ruminations but then I found that the thoughts innumerable are always allowed and each question need not be answered.
Written on Thursday, December 09, 2004