current state of mind

"I want to feel what i feel; even if it is not happiness"-Toni Morrison

kanua+nidhi=the house of <3

believe the hype

Susheela Raman's debut album 'Salt Rain' is a revelation. Her soulful voice is perfect for the post-midnight hours when you want to be alone with your thoughts and mull over silence.

go read

There is good reason why this book is genre-defying and the benchmark for crime fiction/true crime non-fiction.    It is gripping, racy and nearly impossible to put down; a complete thriller. Capote is unmatched, never letting his  voice come in the way of an objective narration of the macabre massacre that rocked the bible-belt of Amercia. He draws you into the lives of all those you were involved and affected by the killings-from the townsfolk, the detectives, the killers, the ill-fated family, the killers' families. No detail has been overlooked, no character portrait that's overdone. Here is a detailed account of a crime and its aftermath that can be written only by a true master. 

Goddammit

Okay, the two words that i am going to get rid off from my vocabulary are 'thing' and 'stuff'. Both drive me up the wall and both i am guilty of using in common parlance. What is stuff? What is thing? They really mean nothing and yet are randomly used in our daily conversations to denote almost anything. But anything is not a thing and stuff is not anything we cannot take care to describe or understand. It is so much easier to call fashion 'stuff' or  art 'stuff'. We're just to lazy to bother, to make an effort to go into the depth of a particular subject. We like to condemn ourselves to ignorance rather than opening up to natural-born curiosity. All-too-familiar words provide comfort from the strange and the unknown within our minds. They become a little safety-valve to protect us from the overwhelming complexity that surrounds our world. If i am to live deliberately, then vocabulary must become my medium of self-expression and self-understanding. I don't want to find myself stuck with 'things' and 'stuff' that are devoid of meaning and substance. I want them to signify a concrete reality that i am a embedded in, not some vague notion of life and living.

I have bought my HYD air tickets for July and a mutli-purpose mixy-grinder-juicer for the kitchen. Both were unplanned purchases and will be paid in installments. Usually i would have fretted endlessly over the money expended but this time i am not worried, for i know i can manage my financial commitments. I'm just happy that the day unfolded spontaneously. Cheers to the small joys of living!

I so want to cuddle you and have you curled up at my feet. I miss the warmth of your tiny body and your blood-hot ears jutting out of the blanket, tracking my every movement in the room. When i close my eyes, i can still trace the tender contours of your body. If only, i could watch you dream while sleeping. Every dog i see on the road reminds me of you and as each day slips by, i find myself digging up memories always to remember you. Filled with an emptiness so cruel, lest i forget you, i am guilty of loving you. 

weekend movie bonanza

I

Post-work, i attended a Dastangoi performance at campus, which was based on Tagore's Ghare Baire novel. Have seen Ray's movie and now this Urdu narration, my interest in the book is piqued. I personally like the stream of consciousness literary style and when deftly interwoven with socio-political issues, it is bound to be a engaging read. The only damper is the fact that i can't read Bengali and i have to make do with an English translation.

II

I sat in Ganga dhaba on one of the many rocks reminiscing of my years on campus and how i used to be. Nostalgia makes for perfect daydreaming. Though familiar with the surroundings and the faces, there was an uneasy feeling. Like i never belonged there; that this place remains so strange, so remote in my mind. Campus has always evoked extreme emotions in me; may be it has to do with the knowledge that it challenged me fundamentally. From the people, the food, the experience of living of my own, making new friends, of adjusting with a roommate, the rigour of academics, the constant craving to be home with family, friends and lover-- I was like a fish out of water. My world, the cocoon of my existence was undone on this very campus, unwrapping me in curious ways. I was overwhelmed and unprepared for the changes that i experienced. It was like a shock was being administered on me in doses over the span of two years. By the end of my studies, my unsure self was ready to leave, determined to make a new beginning outside campus. Looking back, I don't ever regret my years on compus; it has been the site of my learning and unlearning. Two years of challenging myself in the little ways of life gave me the strength and resilience to move on. And the beauty about visits like this is that you know that this was where it all began.

life: struggle

Those big protruding eyes of Ramu babu forsee the impending doom of unfulfilled dreams buried within the city's labyrinths. They see the dusted hopes of the migrant masses engulfed in a rising tide of human despair. They know the fear of insecurity, of rejection, of dashed promises. They portend the daily struggle for existence. They depict the reality, the truth about living.

Thus Spoke Matarani

When you live deliberately, there is no guilt or fear, no alibi to cover up your action or inaction. You become responsible for your every deed and you feel in command of life's situations. There is no external validation but inner peace in the knowledge that life's purpose, solely happiness, is yours alone. To be driven by this requires courage, empathy and most of all integrity. For in staying true to oneself we affirm our deepest being, the conciousness that always seeks the Beautiful Truth. It lies at the heart of reality, found in sudden moments of clarity. To be aware of this awakened self and to channelise one's energy towards its actualisation is our only true vocation. Therein, lies the intent in living deliberately.

not an original thought but profound nonetheless

Our only true purpose is to live with the knowledge that we are going to die. End of drama.

got the blues

There is a big difference between being alone and feeling lonely; for the most part, i am anonymous.

all dogs go to heaven

i am blessed to have loved in varying degrees, each one of them.
minto
rocky
greyu
collar
dushtu
floyd
zappy
daina
bobo
don
candy
mustafa
pebbles
blondel
nero
elsa

Fondness

Whenever i listen to this song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgM3r8xKfGE), i remember that Tantra Khamta Dance Night years ago, when you and i danced so freely, for what others considered as lascivious and inappropriate that we were asked to vacate the dancefloor. And left we did, laughing our way out onto the streets, delirious at the night's events.

Currently struggling with

Pinoodas makes for a happy companion but Calcutta is a perfect lover.

Clarity eludes me; confusion confronts me.

It's a rut, i'm telling you. Like the Deepsea Challenger, i have got to get at the bottom of it.

Delhi: Nor'wester

Yesterday, the smell of the wet earth, the rush of the gusty winds, the thundering orange skies, the electric turbulence of lightening, the big raindrops splattering on the ground all reminded me of Calcutta and home, of  love and longing, of beauty and innocence, of a sepia-tinged frame of life, of an unspoken loss and a free-spirited restlessness, of emotional churning and ineffable feelings.