I am a bad poet.. :)

After reading the previous post one of my friend told me that I am a bad poet and I almost instantly agreed :)....
Anyways those who read my last post should read the comment I got on that. I couldn't stop laughing on that one...I am putting it here so that you do not miss it :


Hey thats really nice,.
i tried along the same lines
i feel like a dog!,
i am barking..you are afraid
i come forward to bite you-
And you run away!!

now howsthat??!! Heheee..

I feel like.....

I feel like the rain drop,
I am falling,
you are spattering and sploshing.....
I am rising,
you are capturing....

I feel like the snow ball,
I am freezing,
you are holding and moulding...
I am falling,
you are catching.....

I feel like the wind...
I am blowing,
you are breathing and feeling...
I am whirling,
you are watching.....

I am back! :)

Those of you who were missing me badly(???) on blogosphere and were waiting for me to come back(oh really!) will be happy to know that Rupali is back!.. :)
It was a long break...no! i wasn't bereft of ideas...i was just waiting for people to come back to hostel after the holidays so that they could share the cost of the internet with me :)...infact i penned my thoughts many a times...but carelessly left them to go to the dustbin...or for deepu(my small cousin) to paint his aeroplanes and blue skies....
so now that i can afford to have the world at my table, i am sure you will see more of me on blogspot! :)

"Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free."

Hey Shikhar...thanx for suggesting this movie to me..Though honestly speaking it wasn’t your suggestion that made me watch the movie…:) But then, there was nothing to do and one of my roommates had saved it on my system without me knowing ….I hardly have the patience to give my thoughts to a ‘movie’ for three continuous hours…I sometimes start watching a movie and stop doing so even before the story actually begins…sometimes I do watch it half….I mean it has to be really good to keep my attention….
After I watched the whole movie and advised everybody I met to watch it , I was amazed to realize that it managed to be brilliant without a female starcast!….no typical love making scenes….nothing that you wont believe…nothing that you won’t understand…but the message it carried….the simplicity with which it narrated a beautiful story of ‘hope’…..and not the mention the awesome piece of acting done by Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins could not have been better….
Here goes some of the excerpts from the movie( I loved them)…have a look…

** Red (Morgan Freeman): They send you here for life and that's exactly what they take.

**
Red: The first nights the toughest. No doubt about it. They march you in naked as the day you were born. Skin burning, and half blind from that delousing shit they put on ya. And when they put you in that cell, and those bars slam home. That's when you know it's for real. Whole life blown away in the blink of an eye. Nothing left, but all the time in the world to think about it.



**
I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singin' about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I like to think they were singin' about something so beautiful it can't be expressed in words and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared, higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away. And for the briefest of moments, every last man at Shawshank felt free.


** Andy: My wife used to say I'm a hard man to know. Like a closed book. Complained about it all the time. She was beautiful. God, I loved her. I just didn't know how to show it, that's all. I killed her, Red. I didn't pull the trigger, but I drove her away and that's why she died - because of me, the way I am.

**
Lord! It's a miracle! Man up and vanished like a fart in the wind….

**
Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of s--t and came out clean on the other side. Andy Dufresne, headed for the Pacific. Those of us who knew him best talk about him often. I swear the stuff he pulled. Sometimes it makes me sad, though, Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.


** Red: I find I'm so excited I can barely sit still, or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey who's conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope

** Red: Rehabilitated? Well now, let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means...I know what you think it means. To me, it's just a made-up word, a politician's word so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?...There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. And not because I'm in here or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then. A young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone. This old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that. 'Rehabilitated?' That's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.

I hope that is enough to motivate you to watch this movie…
Enjoy!

......

You are there for me, I wanna know....
You care for me, I wanna know...
When I walk in the darkness, will you walk beside me, I wanna know....
I love you with all that I have, do you love me for that, I wanna know...
Do i matter?
How would I ever know?
How would I ever know?

Life is good....

Each time you will lose something they will say with an air of wisdom “ Life is good…”.
And when you hear this, take my word you are learning more, growing more….
Each day you overcome that ache inside you, you realize that life is good….
And one day you will start loving that one corner of your heart that ‘aches’.
After all it has taught you so much…to let go…to move ahead…
At times you tend to derive a strange sadistic pleasure out of those low moments….
a pleasure of ambivalence….
And in your trials and tribulations you find yourself, the one who is calm and deep, one who introspects and retrospects, one who forgives and forgets, and the one who knows that ‘ Life is good…’

For posterity.....

Hey! don't you dare say that you do not recognize me. After all you had been practising me for so long. I was passed into your blood from generations. I have become indispensible to you...
Remember the silence that prevailed in your house when you were born as a girl....
How you were taught to adjust and compromise, to forgive and sacrifice.....
You were tortured and used, harrased and killed, molested and raped.....
But you should not grumble Afterall you were always in 'demand', penned and praised, worshiped and idolized….
I was there in everybody who did this to you….

Remember, how you were taught by your parents that “Truth is supreme” and if you lie the boogeyman may pick you or God may not bless you with ice-creams and chocolates.
And you were so imbecile to believe ‘them’, those who later on taught you the contradictory lessons of being ‘worldly-wise’ and ‘self-interested’. It’s the ‘survival of the fittest’, they said.
It was then that I started creeping into you. You then kept turning the pages of your childhood innocence and learnt the newly added chapters of prudence and never looked back.

Remember, how your father taught you that ‘All men are equal’, ‘God is one’ ‘Respect all religion’….
You obsequiously imbibed all that he said. After all he was your ideal, your hero, who was always right.
And when you wanted to marry that decent, nice guy you loved, your father refused because he worshipped some ‘other God’.
Oh no! please do not blame your father for all this. It was me who forced him….

Remember, how one single prince was saved. The whole country came to a standstill suddenly. All hands joined together to pray for him, all eyes were constantly glued to the television sets till the little prince escaped from the gallows of death.
Take my word, even more than forty killings in Nithari would not match those TRP’s . The media should be thankful to me….

I have been a way of life. I am religious too, albeit secular. You can find me at all religious places, with little effort. Some even find me synonymous to religion.
You call me ‘hypocrisy’ with love. Whether it was your home, your school, your society, your country, I was always there in my macro and micro forms.
I am somewhat like humor, clever, quick, contemporary….
You had been learning my nuances for so long. I was there when you loved me. I was there when you hated…
And now you blame me of contaminating you!
Instead I will sue you for contaminating me. I occurred in purest forms. You contaminated me, distorted me to uglier, incognizable forms, as per your requirements, every now and then.
I have now become your age old tradition, your cultural heritage and you are obligated to save and preserve me…save me for posterity…..

What is the point?

Everything has a point or rather should have a point. If the universe originated from 'nothing', a 'point 'must surely have succeeded. A 'point' comes after a 'nothing' and 'nothing' comes after a 'point'.
Confused? So am I. This point has always baffled me and I have been constantly asking myself questions like ' What is the point?'. But let me try to explain. we try to search for a point or a sense of purpose to remove the pointlessness in our life, but what worries us more is the pointlessness that follows after the point is reached.
It has been years when our geometry teacher taught us how a fixed point is necessary to draw a circle. And yes it has been years that i have been searching for the same point about which my life could revolve.
There are times when you have to face 'it'. They call 'it' as 'a deafening silence'. This deafening silence is not just an oxymoron but is strangely palpable. It brings you to a pointlessness and then you start wondering if 'pointlessness' is the only 'point'. It has been long that i have been wondering that 'what is the point?'.
There are many like me who ask this question to themselves daily. But this has to remain unanswered, for if it is answered than what is the point?
I am amazed how a 'point' can be so important that people keep searching for it throughout there life. I amazed how a 'point' can lead you from the infinitesimal to the infinite. I am amazed how a 'point' can take you to another 'point' and you could thus move on a continous graph of life. The infinite is full of points but then you have to search your's and complete your circle....

Tea is not my cup of tea!

That might sound an odd title to start my first blog with...But since that is what may reveal to you why 'i m nostalgic', i will surely go ahead.
I am a person who gets attached to anything and everything. I have a certain nostalgia for my childhood days. No wonder i am greatly attached to my maternal grandparents who brought me up. I relate my life, my very existance with them. They made me what i am. They taught me all lessons of patience, honesty, culture and life.
I could still remember how my nanaji(my grandpa) rode his old bicycle to a nearby village in heavy rains just because i was 'feeling like eating mangoes'. He was all wet and shivering with cold when he gave me that most delicious mango i ever had in my life...
I could still remember my amma(grandma) giving me imlas(dictations) so that i do not rank low in class. She was very strict when it came to studies. That is more than one can expect from someone who had only had her primary education!

I still remember how they both heard all the non-sense that i uttered after coming to school. Nanaji remained very worried about my low grades in maths. He used to take me with him to the garden. While he did his gardening he used to hear from me all the tables, prime numbers etc that i was supposed to know.

I still remember the day when he bought me a new bicycle and ran after me when i rode it so that i do not fall. He gifted me an alarm clock on my birthday and said "Its very important to be punctual and value time". (Though i could never become punctual as he wanted me to be:))
I still remember how amma would make 'gajar ka halwa' and 'til ke laddoo' on my birthdays(and she still does it without a miss) inspite of having a severe backache.

I still remember how she allowed me to talk to guys despite her strong disliking. She is much of a narrowminded person or rather we have a 'two generations gap' between us. Still she never stopped me from anything that was out of her realms of transgression.

I still remember how they never called me when i went to college so that i may learn to live without them.
I still remember how they boasted in front of all relatives and aquaintances how i never spoke a lie, how well mannered i was, how nice chhapaties i made, how i had never tasted tea.....
They felt a certain sense of pride when they told others that i have never even tasted tea. And somewhere inside i also felt the same kind of strange pride. Whenever someone offered me tea i simply,bluntly said "I do not drink tea. I have never tasted it, you see...."And true enough, i never tried to taste tea and i never wanted to. Even three years after leaving home i never thought of tasting tea because if i taste it, back home my nanaji and amma must still be saying to someone "she never drinks tea. She has never tasted it you see..."
Tea, certainly is not my cup of tea!