Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax

Against a deadline

2011-12-15T18:59:00.000+05:30

Sixteen minutes to go to my 7pm soap. What can I say that's worthwhile? Incoherent again. Thoughts - dark ones - on definitions, labels, the desire for solidification, self-aggrandisement. On how self worth often stands precariously balanced on an assortment of sneers. Sonu Nigam, Chetan Bhagat, Paulo Coelho - easy targets for anyone. Free potshots for anyone at all who has only learnt what is

Deep thoughts

2011-12-03T17:32:00.001+05:30

sleepy. sleeeeepy. sleeeeeeeeeeepy.

Thoughts on Rockstar

2011-11-26T19:06:00.001+05:30

I saw Rockstar last week. Late night show at the local theatre after a busy day – we were tired and in that strangely receptive stage where the mind doesn’t interrupt too much, butt in to filter, analyse or slot. The viewing left a few swirling images in my head that I have been trying to coalesce into a blog post, but it wouldn’t happen. I liked it, I think. I’m still not able to write

The listener, who listens in the snow

2011-11-25T15:40:00.001+05:30

Moving from the eternal: sab dharti kaagaj karun, lekhni sab banrai saath samudra ki masih karun, Guru gun likha na jaaye - Kabir to the seasonal again. Haiku poet David Caruso saying: snowflakes . . . no two winters quite the same I have held this poem close to my heart for a couple of years now. That we don’t actually get any snow here is quite beside the point; the

Tailorbird Update

2011-11-08T18:41:00.000+05:30

We were late with bringing in the clothes from the clothesline and the buckets, and I have frightened Mr India away. Of course, you know India from here. We hadn't given him a name then, not quite realising that this was to be such a long relationship as to require these niceties. But he has been visiting regularly, putting the back verandah out of use for us every evening. The name was

Restless

2011-11-07T22:35:00.000+05:30

Koi baat karo, koi baat karo... koi kushboo jaisi baat karo

Poorna chandrama gagan viraaje

2011-10-11T22:27:00.002+05:30

full moon my monthly loss for words -Yvonne Cabalona Moon-struck today. It is the season of Sharad... the dark, thick blankets of cloud that hid it from view these past months have been swept away, the moon now has only some wisps attached to it, framing it for artistic effect. I am more receptive to the full moon tonight than I can ever remember. It seemed the perfect, the absolutely perfect

This day, that age

2011-09-25T13:32:00.001+05:30

My mother had been excited about turning 60. She always had a shrewd head for money matters and she had been looking forward to the better interest rates she would get as a senior citizen. Luckily she did turn 60 if only for a couple of months. This day, two years ago, she knew she was dying. She had a cake, friends around her, close family visiting, a beloved nephew who flew in to see her, a

Tasmayi Sri Gurave Namah

2011-09-03T17:22:00.000+05:30

New header for this day. A doha that keeps coming back to me, more often these days. Kabir describing, or rather, declaring his inability to describe the glory of the Guru. He is grandiloquent, almost: सब धरती कागज करूँ, लेखनी सब बनराई साथ समुद्र की मसीह करूँ, गुरु गुण लिखा ना जाए Sab dharti kaagaj karun, lekhni sab banrai Saath samudra ki masih karun, Guru gun likha na jaaye Even if I made

Ganapati Bappa!

2011-08-28T14:29:00.000+05:30

It's Ganesh 'chanda' time again and I have just now not managed to shoo away the third set of donation seekers for the morning. We can't remember all the faces and have no way of knowing if we've paid this party before - but Rs 20 per group is not too large a sum for the entertainment they provide, so we're grinning and bearing it. One bright, hopeful fellow yesterday prompted my father to

Safai e qalb

2011-07-18T08:53:00.000+05:30

The region of the heart is a luminous space, pulsing a pleasing cadence. Usually. But here is let in inky fumes of red-black substance! Blinding, spreading haze. The creature darts in frantic evasion but the discoloration grows. Diffuses and grows till it gathers you up in its swirl. Rest quiet, if you can; do not flap about: a limp acquiescence may save you yet. But you won't, of course. …

Khala ka ghar nahin!*

2011-07-06T17:47:00.008+05:30

Header change. From this haiku in a nut shell there is never enough room -Yu ChangI move to another: walking alone — my face disassembles -Hilary Tann This little poem appealed to me whenever I read it. It is true, isn't it, that we are more sharply in focus in company, that we float at bit, blur about the edges when we are by ourselves, wake up sometimes not knowing who we are? I jump to

Bulbuls again

2011-05-21T19:42:00.000+05:30

More on the bulbuls. They've taken to bathing every day and are increasingly at home. Of course, this means that the robin who liked to come and sip has been shunted out, and one beautiful ashy prinia lurks furtively. Anyway, these chaps are comfortable. I haven't got pictures of the bath itself because the activity is usually so charming, I stand rooted! Next time, if you can bear another post

Ek thi bulbul

2011-05-17T10:49:00.000+05:30

Some non-human drama outside our window yesterday. There are two new bulbul fledgelings learning their way around the world, starting with our jasmine creeper. One is bigger, stronger and has a crest poking out already but the other one is very unsure and only makes small tentative hops along the branch. Parent bulbul is utterly utterly sweet and marvelously competent. Many mysterious pellets and

At the core

2011-05-11T15:59:00.001+05:30

The season is long past, and I'm taking down Connie Donleycott's comment on autumn: falling leaves my friend and I discuss clutter In its place, because it has been tickling me all this week, poet Yu Chang's assertion: in a nut shell there is never enough room Now this is a strange thing for a haiku poet to say! For here is a man used to writing in three short lines, attempting to

Mixed Feelings

2011-05-06T12:59:00.002+05:30

For the first time since I started this blog, a whole month has gone by without my posting a single time. So April 2011 has no entries under it - strange, because it was a highly significant time. But रहिमन बात अघम की, कहन सुनन की नाही... it doesn't matter. Exciting times for lovers of music. Coke Studio is coming to India and I'm all a' tremble with anticipation and anxiety. I blogged about Coke

Much Addu

2011-03-28T15:27:00.002+05:30

When we come across places whose first characteristic is immense, startling beauty, we tend to sigh — and we tend to want. The sharp equatorial sun of the Maldives, the many layered shades of blue, the eternal shadows of coconut palm contrast so keenly with our own grey streets, that comparisons are human, and inevitable. But the poet Wordsworth has an admonition for travellers who do that: “But

Kise pesh karun

2011-03-21T11:53:00.003+05:30

These past couple of days have gone in a nostalgic haze – revisiting songs we loved when we were younger. What a wonderful thing youtube is. I took one trip down today to enjoy songs from this 1964 film called Gazal. Before my time, but I saw it on trusty old Doordarshan. Given my affinity for Sunil Dutt, old film music, the ghazal, Sahir Ludhianvi and black and white cinema, what was not to love

Creatures, great and small

2011-03-10T11:06:00.002+05:30

I have said once or twice before how flattered the Vyases feel when wild creatures come visiting. We like stray cats and dogs to stay in the yard but we had a parrot swagger into our drawing room once and we nearly kept it. Some part of our delight must’ve been due to this Enid Blyton that Shweta and I read over and over again as children. The Children of the Cherry Tree Farm had four city kids

Aaj to hajari hanso

2011-02-23T17:06:00.006+05:30

Trying to play some music on this blog. As a test, this wonderful wonderful song by Mukhtiyar Ali... पाल पुरानी जल नुवो तो हंस्लो बैठो आये प्रीत पुरानी रे कारणों वो चुग चुग कंकर खाए आज तो हजारी हंसो पावनो रे हेली... the banks are old but the water is fresh, and the swan swoops to sitfor the sake of an old love, he stays pecking at pebbles...Today, the revered swan is a honoured guest, Heli...

Snit

2011-02-23T10:28:00.000+05:30

Supremely irritated. Isn't it annoying how anything - anything at all - rapidly becomes about society, community, rules, demands, expectations? I have limited energy and some enthusiasm to spare and HATE it when people try to yoke it for their ends. bah.

Covering ground

2011-02-10T22:11:00.000+05:30

This has been up here too long: tough as we sound our eyes on the fireflies -Paul Pfleuger, Jr. I have been too lazy to refresh this and although there was one haiku that haunted me throughout this winter, it was too special to put up somehow. But talking of things that need to be cleared, here is the new one: falling leaves my friend and I discuss clutter -Connie Donleycott It is autumn

Sighing

2011-02-10T21:38:00.000+05:30

...at the gulf between theory and practice.

Things to do

2011-01-18T16:30:00.001+05:30

A nice warmish afternoon. Shall I play the Chaap Tilak playlist I've carefully put together and take up my dhurrie to embroider? Or pick up the Georgette Heyer I have a bookmark in? Or watch an episode of Burn Notice that's streamed and ready on my laptop? Or follow a juicy debate online that's ruffled a lot of literary feathers? Or work perhaps - get on with some pieces I'm doing and need to be

Janus-ing

2010-12-31T16:06:00.000+05:30

saying goodbye the river flowing one way -Cindy Truong

Intelligence and Knowledge

2010-11-23T09:12:00.000+05:30

Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev always makes sense to me but I particularly loved his piece in Deccan Chronicle yesterday. He talks of intelligence vs knowledge, the incisive nature of one and the burden of the other. Knowledge has always been held rather low by spiritualists - it falls short, the intellect itself is thought to fall very short when it comes to spiritual challenges. Then he touches on the

All about cats - 1

2010-10-13T19:26:00.002+05:30

Cats, cats, cats in the garden. A few months ago, we had a fresh line of cats. The incumbent went missing and a new-looking series took charge. Those numbered three. All striped fellows, of which more anon. Then, recently one of said striped fellows turned out to be a felli, er... female feline, of whom Shweta said, "Zaroor kahin muh kaala kar ke aayi hai!" It was to be expected from a young cat

Ae ve mere peer di jugni ji

2010-09-29T18:33:00.006+05:30

I realise I’m beginning to make a symbol of fireflies. The other day, I relished the idea of a firefly-guide, dancing ahead of me as it illuminates the path. The words for it sound so nice – jugnu, minmini, minugupurugu... Shweta and I were trekking once in Coorg. It was a simply wonderful; each campsite during the six-day trek was special. We ploughed through spice and coffee plantations one

Jab koi doosra nahin hota

2010-09-25T20:47:00.000+05:30

मेरे साथ साथ सदा रहा, वो मेरी नज़र से छुपा हुआ येह अजीब हिज्र-ओ-विसाल है, ना कभी मिला ना जुदा हुआ He is ever with me, even if hidden from view A strange union-separation; we never met, never parted मेरे साथ जुगनू है और जुगनू की इस सफ़र में भी साथ क्या ये चराग कोई चराग है, ना जला हुआ ना बुझा हुआ I am guided by a firefly, and what a companion he is! Is it a lamp, then? never lit, never

Ab lagan lagi

2010-08-07T14:23:00.004+05:30

To hell with reality! I want to die in music, not in reason or in prose. People don't deserve the restraint we show by not going into delirium in front of them. To hell with them!-Louis-Ferdinand Céline

Power play

2010-07-26T08:17:00.005+05:30

It is a ridiculous situation. My laptop charger cord has worn at one point and there's a loose contact that needs to be treated with kid gloves. This has ramifications on my lifestyle. For one, I cannot occupy any seat where the cord loops around the laptop - the joint can't take such maltreatment. When I achieve the happy position of having continuous supply I cannot move lest I disturb it. To

Sanson ki mala

2010-06-20T17:05:00.007+05:30

प्रीतम, हम तुम एक हैं, जो कहन सुनन में दोमन को मन से तोलिये, दो दो मन कब'हूँ न होPreetam, hum tum ek hain, jo kahen sunan mein do man ko man se toliye do do man kab'hoo na hoOn loop today, one of my Nusrat favourites, this bhajan called Sanson ki mala. There are many versions of this song - Nusrat and party have sung it at many concerts, certainly whenever they've particularly wanted to please a

The only moving thing

2010-06-13T10:34:00.007+05:30

I bring down this haiku by Edith Bartholomeusz that graced this header space these past weeks:into the sunwhere eyes can’t followa red tailed hawkIn its stead, one way of looking at a blackbird from Wallace Stevens' Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.The river is moving.The blackbird must be flying.I didn't understand this wonderful poem when I first read it; perhaps I still haven't fully. I

Albeit a very persistent one

2010-06-08T13:54:00.002+05:30

The world of dew—A world of dew it is indeed,And yet, and yet...~Kobayashi Issa(Trans. Lewis Mackenzie)

First rains

2010-06-01T16:15:00.005+05:30

Are these the monsoons then? The skies are appropriately overcast, there are distant drumrolls but it is only the first of June! The grey clouds weren't expected here till the fifth. But they came to Kerala a day early and they must've sped indeed to be here this quickly. But the first rains have been slightly blah so far - such a slight drizzle, it took half an hour to even completely wet the

Still high

2010-05-29T20:51:00.009+05:30

You'll be surprised at these frequent posts. But the thing is I'm having an keep-off-facebook week, maybe two weeks if I can keep at it. I can't knock the service, of course - I'm too social a being not to enjoy it rather too thoroughly, too much of a geek not to relish how easy technology makes so many things. But it drains your time and what would once have been a mail or a post, however short

Through the grill

2010-05-28T09:03:00.004+05:30

We've had a couple of bird baths in the garden this summer and happy to say they've been a huge success. It has been murderously hot and wildlife of all sorts seem to appreciate the troughs. Needless to say, we appreciate the view and the constant stream of Discovery Channel outside our windows.At first the troughs were greeted with some suspicion. But they stayed there doing nothing more drastic

Dog Days

2010-05-26T13:08:00.004+05:30

The last lingering days of summer are like the final leg of a long journey. Early on, you will have settled into the movement, making yourself as comfortable as possible, knowing there are a ways to go. But with only a little time left, you begin to gather your things, sit up straight and then - be it only an hour longer than you thought it might be - the wait is unbearable.The Lady Laila was

Yeh khazanein

2010-05-02T09:44:00.008+05:30

Still stuck on Mae ni mai kinnu aakhan. I blogged about it last week, and spent a goodish time listening to various versions on the glorious youtube, the ever-expanding internet. And look what I found! Atif Aslam again with an 8½-min version - a soulful, innovative, just-right fusion version - of the song: But the find was a small tell-tale string that drew up a treasure. As you'll see, it's a

Flight path

2010-04-29T18:04:00.005+05:30

New haiku on header. I take down Robert Major's wistful poem:Sometimes I think . . .you would answer the phoneif I were to callBut the new one is lovely too.into the sun where eyes can’t follow a red tailed hawk ~Edith BartholomeuszThe presence of a bird, up there... somewhere. But the hawk is free to fly where it chooses, into the sun if it wants to - the watcher can gaze no more, he must look

Guess who?

2010-04-26T14:55:00.001+05:30

Dard vichore da haal

2010-04-23T13:07:00.005+05:30

I come with another of those mother-songs I spoke of a while ago. Who do I tell, mother, the pain this separation brings? It feels odd sometimes to be experiencing the biggest upheaval of my life and not have my mother to discuss it with. Never is a harsh word.Shah Hussain's kafi, of course, talks of a different separation. A desperate search. The Master is veiled, he is not easily attained but

The hush and shush of ash

2010-04-22T16:09:00.003+05:30

Carol Ann Duffy, Britain's poet laureate, writes about the unpronounceable Iceland volcano and (please, I beg, note the pun) its fall-out.SILVER LININGFive miles up the hush and shush of ash.Yet the sky is as clean as a white slateI could write my childhood there.Selfish to sit in this garden, listening to the past.A gentleman bee wooing its flower, a lawnmower.When the grounded planes mean

Saas, bahu aur asar

2010-04-07T08:43:00.007+05:30

Media analyst Sevanti Ninan writes a significant piece in The Hindu (4 April 2010) this Sunday. A very interesting article in which she discusses Indian television serials, what comes across as regressive content and the unexpected, unforeseen effect it seems to have had on women exposed to them.TV soaps with bizarre, regressive storylines pay scant respect to notions of women's empowerment. Yet,

Bathing Day

2010-04-02T18:28:00.003+05:30

In which Ook gets wet and a bit wilder...

Ye shaam

2010-03-14T18:23:00.004+05:30

The light is diffused strangely today. The mood is uncertain, tinted with a surrealistic hue. I want to be anywhere but where I am, but not any place that you could suggest to me. And even if you were able, by a happy coincidence, to come up with such a place that could please me this minute, the bother of going there daunts me, imbues the whole enterprise with distaste.बाग़ में लगता नहीं, सेहरा

The Multani hours

2010-02-20T14:43:00.004+05:30

It must be the warmth. Every afternoon these days, after the meal, eyelids weigh down, the nerves go numb. I take out my white white sheet, still cool from the cupboard, bring out the afternoon pillow and snuggle in. A few weeks later it will be impossible to sleep - the hotness will whip in our faces and as soon as we have managed to sink a few inches deep, the power will go. So now to make the

Listen, mother

2010-02-17T23:15:00.009+05:30

It is customary for traditional poets, those who lament in Punjabi, Sindhi, Urdu, to bring in the mother somehow. Questions, rhetorical questions, are asked of the maae, exhortations are made - tell him, mother! where do I go, mother? how shall I bear this, mother? I have befriended a hawk, mother! It is a poetic device, I tell myself. But there is no denying that I have come across an inordinate

In Which We Go Back to the Basics

2010-02-15T11:14:00.004+05:30

Gather around, children, for Baba Sheetal has some advice. She will share pearls of wisdom wrought from her own experience.Once in a way, you will feel that the world has gone wrong, or worse, that you have gone wrong in it. The impulse is for the mind to run hither and thither examining various probable reasons for the malaise. If you are like Baba Sheetal and many of her girlfriends, this will

Ketaki, gulaab, juhi...

2010-02-14T19:49:00.005+05:30

Shivaratri has come and gone, and like my Bapa used to say, the cold has retreated on a 'siva, siva!' I'm being fanciful but the cold was distinctly backfooted this morning. Spring-Summer smells are rising, summer light has started to stream in, the bulbuls are pichkuing with renewed vigour. Much as I enjoy winters, I'm feeling very cheered by the strengthening sun.

Season of Mists

2010-02-12T12:35:00.004+05:30

I have been behindhand in uploading my travel pieces but I've really been wanting to. My travel to Meghalaya was memorable. I've said before how some places, some views force the mind open to other worlds, other possibilities. There were many such scenes here. Scenes that sometimes bubble up from the murky depths of consciousness, if you're sitting quiet for a moment, vacant. This piece appeared

Waraq

2010-02-10T11:11:00.002+05:30

old journal-the decade flits through my fingers

Something fresh

2010-01-03T16:45:00.005+05:30

Television is a great source of comfort to me. When I have time for TV, it means that I’m at my base state, with enough mindspace to spare from my life, from whatever is occupying my days. Luckily there have been many such days, many such periods where I’ve followed series with great relish, bemoaning the trends in themes and programming, or merely sighing over whatever current ship I’ve been

Pack up

2009-12-28T16:54:00.008+05:30

Last month brought a sting in its tail. We lost our mother; then, as the lady puts it, we swept up the heart and put love away... packing up smiles, habits, responses, whole parts of us that will never be used again.I had a special ringtone for home; birdcalls that everyone around me knew indicated my mother was calling. The ringtone has been retired honorably. That needed packing too.So

Outlook: Bleak

2009-12-01T00:11:00.001+05:30

Bad, BAD November. And it went from there to worse.

Essence of Rue

2009-11-23T19:00:00.001+05:30

I looked forward to November in my last post but this month seems to have gone in a blink. I have been busy, so so occupied, I have let things go. So naturally, without thought, that it tells me much about how priorities alter your outlook. I have been back in Hyderabad for almost four weeks. I have not yet acquired a local phone number - somehow there hasn't been time. For the very first time in

The march of seasons

2009-10-31T17:22:00.002+05:30

I may as well tell you right away that this post is a cheat. I have mangaged in spite of my negligence of this blog to have at least one a month, every month and we are on the brink of losing this October forever...But November comes. It is quite my most favourite month of the year. It is a poetic sound, the winter seems to stretch out ahead... there is music everywhere, concerts, on the radio...

Wapsi

2009-09-22T11:09:00.002+05:30

है मुख्तार को फिर वहीँ लौटनाहवा पर के पानी पे चलते हुए

Oops, they did it again

2009-09-11T18:03:00.003+05:30

In September last year, my landlady had this nice tree outside my balcony shorn. I was a new tenant then and I had protested mildly - perhaps she didn't even notice. But look, they did it again:What am I to say? It was doing well, better than I had hoped. In a few weeks it would have given me privacy from 70 percent of the apartments that face me. Besides, I liked it. I didn't know they had this

Kahat Kabir

2009-09-11T15:14:00.003+05:30

Kabir Festival 2 Just a brief overview of what the festival offered. It was an effort to broadcast the work of the Kabir Project