Saturday, July 28, 2007

"I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core."

"The Lake Isle of Innisfree" by William Butler Yeats.

This poem, strangely reminds me of random, breezy mornings on Benares Ghaats. And the strong smell of dhoop and gobar and ghee. And how, when I was tiny, I would sit on the steps, and wonder at the imagination that was humanity as it flowed past the Ganga.

Saturday, July 21, 2007


We’ve been together to many places. The road less travelled. The road more travelled. The mornings smelling of Chelpark Ink. And torchlights under the blanket.

Gulping down milk and rushing to school. Gulping down tears and ‘I will be fine’s.

There had been a link. Or an imagination maybe? Broken spines of books and yellowed pages. Inkblots on fingers and sometimes a bleeding knee?

But always, always, coming back to it. Desperately wanting a little, tiny bit of that nothingness, because magic is a powerful world. A powerful word.

Splashing through puddles, writing tutorials, burning fever and Wingardium Laviosa. Its always been like that. A big chunk of this world, and little bit of theirs. A dark, cruel, bright fascination.

I always knew this would end. It was altogether too fragile to last. Like a butterfly wing you so want to touch, but which tears under the slightest pressure? Too many question-marks, too many thoughts bordering on madness. Escapism.

It ended today. The boy didn’t die. But the magic did.

And somewhere within, the butterfly, which I had held on to, so tightly, yet so delicately..flapped its wings and escaped.

But it's okay though. I still have some of it’s colour on my fingers.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Elaan. Making it's presence felt.

While you are at it, do check out this, this and this.

And to all the people who were there for us, thank yous fall so short sometime. :)

Saturday, July 14, 2007


Disappointed. Muchly. :(

Monday, July 09, 2007

Since I have absolutely nothing to do. And like, you know, when you sit on the sofa watching nth reruns of SaReGaMaPa, and this huge tsunami wave of nothing-to-do-ness hits you? Well, yeah, that happened today. And so, I dug out a list. And that is my blogpost for the day. 7 things. And excuse me while I go and attach myself to the sofa again.

And here they are. 7 things I wish to do in my lifetime:
1.Go snorkelling around the great barrier reef.
2.Meet John Nash.
3.Watch a superhit movie being directed.
4.Give an eve-teaser a bloody nose.
5.Keep a pet pug and name it Hutch. (I read it somewhere, the pug-being-named-Hutch, that is.)
6.Experience Oxford. Real life.
7.Dance. At the Royal Albert Hall.