an urban pastoral gone awry

here's a chain of uneditor-like run-on sentence fragments in my attempt to capture the perfectness i felt in the moment...so here goes.

PS. this is not a poem...it's blank verse.

a quarter to six mine eyes ope' fresh
the alarm's still asleep;
i stretch out to the morning grey
'tis cloudy today; the rain's set in
there's a smile on my face--guess it's the rain
fresh ground coffee... now that's my tonic
the exquisite smell lazily strolls peeking in every room
while i sit by my window looking at the world

a rickshaw sputters it's cranky way
now here now gone away
trailing behind the spattering drops
bolstered by crowing and chirps.

i can't figure out how many wing'd dreams
have woken to actually see the day
hidden 'midst leaves of infrequent trees
singing songs for the heck of it :)
a myriad of euphony; a crow's cacophony
the crowing rooster fluffing his breast.

a flurry of rush on the coconut tree
i turn my head and --Jesus!
it's a kingfisher!
I love kingfishers!!
a shock of blue, a dull red, when last did i see one?

i'm back home far away from here
sitting on an eccentric coconut tree trunk
which forgot which way to grow.
hmmmmm....oh fish!
where's it gone?
damn! why do i write! it's gone!
Come back, kingfisher...damn!

why do i write!

Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.......

Summertime it rocks! Summertime it rohhhhhhhlz!
Listening to this while I stare at the cover of Tao of Physics. I wonder when I'm going to finish reading it. Pretty interesting read, though! Pity time doesn't want to stretch itself for my reading! Thank God for travel time--the only time I get for books.
BTW,
the book is not as scary as I thought it would be, what with physics and mysticism holding hands. Capra has spent a few precious pages assuring me that Aaaal is Welll!
The first few chapters are on the branches of eastern religion interspersed with the wisdom of sages and scientist-philosophers.
Good going so far.

That which hurts, instructs...or festers.
Which one do you prefer?

[Ben Franklin and I]

Just a Stray...

Compromise with your dreams, you combust.
You're lucky if embers remain;
Luckier if a light breeze passes;
Luckiest if the flames spring up;
Burn your entire being to be real.

Ooort clouds and Lord Ganesh

Ironic--I work in language services and the only time I get to read a book is in the train, bus or rickshaw. It's a torture, getting to read only a page or half a page a day. Nevertheless, I'm reading. Picked up Gods of War by Ashok Banker the other day...sorry daayyyyzzzz ago and am not even halfway through. I was browsing the sci-fi section at Crossword and came across this one. Let's try an Indian author. Looks like I may have made the wrong choice in author. However, I'll still give it a chance.

The book cover does convey a celestial sense with its glossy blue hues punctuated by concentrated yellow bursts. The assortment of characters till now is mysterious because I haven't reached that part of the book yet--the part where the secrets start peeling away. What I did not like was the political comment by Banker in the Author's Note. I don't know whether it is important to the story. I have decided to read it only after I have read the story. I get suspicious when such comments appear before a work of fiction. Colours the mind and hampers independent imagination.

This is going to take some time to finish. Till then...Cheers!

How do you say BOW-WOW in Marathi?

I saw this interesting cartoon by Ajit Ninan in today's Mumbai Mirror. Well, the previous post reminded me of the jingoism going on in Maharashtra today. This cartoon has captured the haplessness of the people of Mumbai and the rowdy MNS.

Saumensch du dreckigs!

Do not go gently into that good night

Rage, rage against the dying of the light

--Dylan Thomas

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

When Death Tells a Story, You Really have to Listen

When Death is the narrator, it would seem the world is bleak with no living voice to speak. Guess Germany in the 1930s was as good as dead. Deportation, ghettoization, persecution and massacre of Jews, Communists, Homosexuals, Opponents of the government--even Death was moved to finding solace in a little girl's life for a change. I started reading this book last night and have learnt quite a few interesting German words -- saumensch, saukerl and arschloch. Interesting! Now, if only I knew the correct pronunciation.

From what I have read and seen via movies and documentaries, it seems to me that most German citizens knew what Hitler and his cronies were doing but preferred to turn a blind eye or deluded themselves with his madness. Markus Zusak, however, gives us the picture from a little girl's perspective. Liesel Meminger's world is shaken when her foster family hides a Jew in thier basement. Finished reading two parts of it. So far so good!