Sunday, May 24, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
à degager...
Je degage ma chambre au jour d'hui, pour passer l'été en Inde. Je me deberasse de tout qui me semble inutile. Une vrai tache. Il y a des epangles, les tubes de cole, des dossiers en bon état. Mais est ce que je dois les ammerner? J'ai une valise pleine de fringues. Et encore des fringues à y mettre. OOOsh!
Monday, May 11, 2009
For Friendship
"Celui qui n'est plus ton ami ne l'a jamais été." Aristotle
"The friendship that can cease has never been real." Saint Jerome
If I had to describe the year that is going by, I would describe it as a year very high on emotion and unfortunately drama. As much as I do like to alienate myself from the latter, it seemed to hurl itself at me most tactfully, choosing the time I was most unaware of his kindling: Unbraced I handled him awfully.
Time came as the healer. As days passed, the incident began to slowly fade. However, looking in hindsight, it was a clear demarcation, a 'wanted impurity' in my otherwise relatively homogeneous life.
I call it a wanted impurity because it taught me so much. Otherwise haplessly naive, I understood the master piece of a human mind and its tendencies. I lost friends in the process but at the same discovered those who were truly mine. I saw the side of me I detested enough to never unleash it again. But, more than anything, I began to appreciate myself for who I am all over again. Anything for this kind of dawining!
"The friendship that can cease has never been real." Saint Jerome
If I had to describe the year that is going by, I would describe it as a year very high on emotion and unfortunately drama. As much as I do like to alienate myself from the latter, it seemed to hurl itself at me most tactfully, choosing the time I was most unaware of his kindling: Unbraced I handled him awfully.
Time came as the healer. As days passed, the incident began to slowly fade. However, looking in hindsight, it was a clear demarcation, a 'wanted impurity' in my otherwise relatively homogeneous life.
I call it a wanted impurity because it taught me so much. Otherwise haplessly naive, I understood the master piece of a human mind and its tendencies. I lost friends in the process but at the same discovered those who were truly mine. I saw the side of me I detested enough to never unleash it again. But, more than anything, I began to appreciate myself for who I am all over again. Anything for this kind of dawining!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Lotus Pond
My sunday afternoon was spent in the thick, murky, gelatinous waters of the Lotus Ponds. Dispered here an there, to me Lotus Ponds are something of extreme beauty.
Lotus Pond, Priyanka Varma; May 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
It's a Thursday and that too an unpredictable one. It started as a sunny day but now as a look through my window, the tree rooted a just below my window sways violently- I think soon the clouds would give way to the rain. I opened the window to feel the chill and smell the air. For usually the air smells different just before the rain.
‘Smell of Rain’ as they call it back home; several nuances of this term in fact. You have ‘ the smell of wet mud’, ‘smell of rain’, ‘smell of just before it is going to rain’ ‘ smell after the rain’ ‘barish ki mitti’. I’m sure all of us relate to this sensual activity. Us Indians possess a great deal of ‘mutual understanding’ when it comes to this barish factor.
We like the respite that the rain offers to our otherwise sunny days, so crisply baked by the summer sun. Standing in our terraces we watch the movement of clouds, predicting when these rain bearers would give way. We talk of the harshness/ lovliness of the wind, “Hawa”. Some unlucky member is picked to show extreme nimbleness in picking the clothes off the clotheslines. Doors and Windows are shut in hurry. (At my place, there was an array the odd apertures to shut- Skylights, doors and windows, furniture too had to be displaced)
When the phone rings we answer it as harbingers of good whether. Radio jockeys too get perky. They not only remind of the listeners of the deadly “chai –Samosa Pakora” deal but make their own craving heard. Their play- list brusquely becomes thought evoking. Parked at a Red light you hear those ‘wettish’ numbers: ‘Beetein Lamhein’ and those which incorporate the word ‘Maula’. You stare at through the window, reminiscing of that memory.
Heh! That’s what the rain does to us back home. Here we holler and scream. Pray for the sun to show himself again for without him, it’s gloomy and horrible. Goodness! It is in strange but poignant ways that one misses home. The best part being, just about anything can stir it!
‘Smell of Rain’ as they call it back home; several nuances of this term in fact. You have ‘ the smell of wet mud’, ‘smell of rain’, ‘smell of just before it is going to rain’ ‘ smell after the rain’ ‘barish ki mitti’. I’m sure all of us relate to this sensual activity. Us Indians possess a great deal of ‘mutual understanding’ when it comes to this barish factor.
We like the respite that the rain offers to our otherwise sunny days, so crisply baked by the summer sun. Standing in our terraces we watch the movement of clouds, predicting when these rain bearers would give way. We talk of the harshness/ lovliness of the wind, “Hawa”. Some unlucky member is picked to show extreme nimbleness in picking the clothes off the clotheslines. Doors and Windows are shut in hurry. (At my place, there was an array the odd apertures to shut- Skylights, doors and windows, furniture too had to be displaced)
When the phone rings we answer it as harbingers of good whether. Radio jockeys too get perky. They not only remind of the listeners of the deadly “chai –Samosa Pakora” deal but make their own craving heard. Their play- list brusquely becomes thought evoking. Parked at a Red light you hear those ‘wettish’ numbers: ‘Beetein Lamhein’ and those which incorporate the word ‘Maula’. You stare at through the window, reminiscing of that memory.
Heh! That’s what the rain does to us back home. Here we holler and scream. Pray for the sun to show himself again for without him, it’s gloomy and horrible. Goodness! It is in strange but poignant ways that one misses home. The best part being, just about anything can stir it!
Un arbre , Priyanka Varma; 2007
The picture is that of tree i'd made a year ago. Put it for the tree I mentioned in this text.
The picture is that of tree i'd made a year ago. Put it for the tree I mentioned in this text.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
When they say that YOU are your worst enemy, it is unabashedly true. In my case my moods are my worst enemy. I feel downright awful today. And this dark mood comes from the incertitude and wait I’m in.
What seemed a shiny bubble of an option seems a little placid today ... I need to move, budge, stir . Get out this mood of doubt.
So I made myself tea, inspired by a friend who, in his response to a "what's happening" told me that he was having mint tea: I made myself cinnamon tea, a concoction I’ve been making with the cinnamon powder that I’d originally bought for an apple crumble and the tea bought for a mere 50 Rs from Mittal tea house. A quaintly beautiful tea shop in Jor bagh... Invigorating is the effect of tea and of course writing.
This evening I meet up with friends for dinner. Look forward for I’ve been a loner through the day (Choosing not to go for college). I don't know what is in store for me.
So I leave to Him.
“Inshahh Allah”
What seemed a shiny bubble of an option seems a little placid today ... I need to move, budge, stir . Get out this mood of doubt.
So I made myself tea, inspired by a friend who, in his response to a "what's happening" told me that he was having mint tea: I made myself cinnamon tea, a concoction I’ve been making with the cinnamon powder that I’d originally bought for an apple crumble and the tea bought for a mere 50 Rs from Mittal tea house. A quaintly beautiful tea shop in Jor bagh... Invigorating is the effect of tea and of course writing.
This evening I meet up with friends for dinner. Look forward for I’ve been a loner through the day (Choosing not to go for college). I don't know what is in store for me.
So I leave to Him.
“Inshahh Allah”
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
