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In the depths of my being, a strange certainty, deeper than reason, entirely animal in quality, filled me with terror. The same certainty which some beasts-sheep and rats feel before an earthquake. Awakening in me was the soul of the first men on Earth, such as it was before it became totally detached from the universe, when it still felt the truth directly, without the distorting influence of reason- The 'Boss', Zorba the Greek

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


குறிஞ்சி - தலைவன் கூற்று

யாயும் ஞாயும் யாரா கியரோ
எந்தையும் நுந்தையும் எம்முறைக் கேளிர்
யானும் நீயும் எவ்வழி யறிதும்
செம்புலப் பெயனீர் போல
அன்புடை நெஞ்சம் தாங்கலந் தனவே.

-செம்புலப் பெயனீரார்.

Red earth and pouring rain
What could my mother be to yours?
What kin is my father to yours anyway?
And how Did you and I meet ever?
But in love our hearts have mingled
as red earth and pouring rain
Translated by AK Ramanujan (Kuruntokai - 40)
A poem from the Eight Anthologies collection.

Monday, January 26, 2009


Reasons why Goa is my second home-
1) The sun, the sand, the sea. (obviously)
2) The colour my skin becomes as opposed to the likeliness to spoilt lassi.
3) Stella, Sunny.
4) Masky and Carol.
5) Inexpensive.
6) The scooters.
7) Lazing- pure laziness that creeps in your bones, under your skin.
8) Memories.
9) The ink. 
10) Nine bar.
11) Sunsets.
12) Jumping into the sea, running on the hot sand and laying in the sun. Repitition of #1 I know, but so important.
13) The dolphins.
14) The new discoveries each time.
15) Bom bom and Ella-norrr-aaaaa!! Ciao bella!
16) Bash-eee-r!
17) The italians getting only three month visas. Bu ha ha ha!
18) The food.
19) The feeling of being home.
20) Bharats.

There isn't any other part of the world that makes me feel the way Goa does.

Uff! The smell of the air so sweet!
So lazy , I can't budge from my seat.
In the distance is the River Princess
An eye sore I must confess.
Sitting together at the shack
People think we are whack
Cos for the parties we don't care
For the peace is why we are there.
Goa makes me rhyme
With that sprite give me some lime!!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Kya dekh rahe ho?

The one thing that I learnt whilst living/working in Delhi was that Defcol is a great place to live, Lodhi Gardens a gorgeous place to walk,  qawalli night at the Dargah is my favorite thursday night outing with cousin S , Martina was a rockstar hair styist,Wills fashion week is a pain in the ass, nothing compared to chinese food with Dev and our brilliantly hectic pool visits to the farm . Did I say the "one thing"? I obviously meant the gazillion things I  learnt and loved. AADI, B-5, talking trees, the roads, the weekend home visits, the Shatabadi, PG, Saroj.....and the autos.

Autos. How many autos denied me a ride across town? Why? Because I wouldn't pay the insane amounts of money they asked for, because I was asking to go from one end of the city to the other, just because they didn't feel like it? How many hours did I spend in the sun BAKING waiting for an auto to take me to my destination even though I was standing opposite an auto stand? Hours (not to mention i had huge bags with me one particular horrendously hot day). They just didn't want to take me. Oh! The arguments over metres and fares and the waiting...I'd have rather walked most of the times.

This I thought was a Delhi phenomena. Mumbai was so much nicer, they put the metre on without so much of a peep (peep peep , don't sleep), took you wherever you wanted, forever available. The dhik chik music, the funky colours, the little light in the autos- bliss! 

A year later and I am back in Mumbai eagerly awaiting my happy rides in the autos. It took me a day to get into one, now that there is a car (and brother) to ferry us around. Looking forward to my day in an auto, I walked/semi skipped out of the house- looked around and didnt see my three wheeled chariot anywhere in sight.Ten minutes later, we were off. Little did I know how the day would turn out. I was denied by two autos, told a metre wasnt working then waited on the side of the road for thirty minutes trying to catch a ride home. My half-skip eventually become a near crawl thanks to sticking my hand out for so long and asking the same question fifty times and hearing the same answer ,"Gas nahi hai, madam.". Finally, when we did get an auto, the chap didn't know where four bungalows was. So here we were, in Mumbai- my auto dream shattered, driving aimlessly into the horizon and wondering how we are going to get around tomorrow. 
I know it is partially because of the strike but why!! why does it have to be like this?

This post is like a Simpson's episode- it started somewhere and has ended nowhere. D'oh!