Monday, July 19, 2010

My Disclaimer, By Conditioned Me.

In time, I will be remembered by a password-protected document of my writings. In time, I may never be known by this ridiculous document.
In time, I will learn more about me from my writings.
In time, I will deny all of it. I already do both.
When writing steps out from me, its colors are like tender flesh, not yet cultured by the skin of conditioning.

Conditioning stops us from being stupid, masochistic, and victimized by our whims, and sometimes makes us all of the above. But
Conditioning empowers me, and I look upon detachedly at ridiculous rhymes that should pass for ‘A Novel’, not inner voices of poetry.
Indeed, I should have been a poet-actress. All this drama! But
this is what I wrote before i thought about it.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Michael Ondaatje

Things have been busy in my world lately. I haven't been writing a lot, but I have had moments where a poem has popped in my head. I have loved Michael Ondaatje's poetry for a long time, and this one is probably one of my favorites. There have been a million times when i have known exactly what he felt when he wrote this one.


Griffin calls to come and kiss him goodnight
I yell ok. Finish something I'm doing,
then something else, walk slowly round
the corner to my son's room.
He is standing arms outstretched
waiting for a bearhug. Grinning.

Why do I give my emotion an animal's name,
give it that dark squeeze of death?
This is the hug which collects
all his small bones and his warm neck against me.
The thin tough body under the pyjamas
locks to me like a magnet of blood.

How long was he standing there
like that, before I came?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


This last weekend, we went down to our favorite beach. The day was hot and bright as we left home, and cool and grey as we reached the coast. Skeptical about the weather, we trudged to a spot on the sand, settling down our kite, our towel and our toddler. She set to work on her sandcastle, but was bored quickly. Then, distractedly, she buried her toes in the sand, and ran her fingers deep in it, and let out a squeal only a happy kid with sand between the toes lets out. This one, an old childhood favorite. By A.A.Milne. Remember this?

I went down to the shouting sea,
Taking Christopher down with me,
For Nurse had given us sixpence each-
And down we went to the beach.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of

The sea was galloping grey and white;
Christopher clutched his sixpence tight;
We clambered over the humping sand-
And Christopher held my hand.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of

There was a roaring in the sky;
The sea-gulls cried as they blew by;
We tried to talk, but had to shout-
Nobody else was out.

When we got home, we had sand in the hair,
In the eyes and the ears and everywhere;
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is found with

- Sand-between-the-toes, A.A.Milne

Friday, July 2, 2010

Independence, World Cup and all

Incensed Thinker asked me the other day
what I allege my loyalty to-
this land or that one?
I've never understood patriotism as different from parochialism.
But I do
throw my heart into my memories
everywhere. This land, that classroom, this cafe and this beautiful land.
Phooey, he said. What fun is that when you're watching the World Cup?
Oh. That's an exception for me, I supposed, thinking again.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The Pit of Happiness

Where the pit of happiness is:

Mid page, mid night, mid face.
Navel thoughts unfulfilling more questions.
Right now, mid self, I don’t think anything will snap.
I’m at the balance of polarity.

I'm so happy i started this blog!

Let Tannin Happen

Manufactured blend of earl grey
Brewed in a microwave
And late at lunchtime
There’s a wrong dose of sugar,
Bittersweet darkness, like last night’s dream- remembered, forgotten.
A tea gone boring
Is a mile I run

To reach a distance I may have to
coz it’s the course of the day.

I’ll take the good,
and let tannin happen.

I wrote that one long ago, in the middle of a busy quarter in business school. Surrounded by deadlines,a fabulous city, late night laughs and gossip sessions with my roommates, and so much of life to look forward to. 8 years later, the people that fill my days with laughter (and deadlines!) have changed, but, that need for my afternoon cuppa and the feelings that go with it haven't.

Welcome to my blog!

Life is too short to waste in boredom or mundane routine. Ever since life stopped revolving around just me (work, relationships, bills, routines, traditions.. whatever the excuse), I have found myself to not be able to find time to let myself go in a wild, creative pursuit. But my nature rounds me up and every now and then I throw myself back into a crazy creative whirlwind with glee.

You may write, photograph, draw, design, dance, sing, play, direct... just don't stop. Shine on, you crazy diamond.