Mind Magic

Like a river our minds flow,

like liquid metal it feels.

Fluid, yet somewhat weighty.

It’s all matter rolled into one

but that really does not matter.

It flows fast,

Though it does have

the ways of a glacier.

Its ways are numerous,

infinite are its workings.

but sometimes,

it feels like a snowball

gathering and building itself

with time.

yet some minds,

disintegrate and regenerate

with intensity, frequeny & intense frequency

at different frequencies.

amazing are the tendencies

of different minds at different levels.

Discover yours

Delve into others'

discover it all,

Simultaneously!

A wriggling tiny irritating worm called hope...

What should I do?

A constant question I keep asking

Year after year.

Every year, I feel I have found the answer.

Yet the next year,

I am at it all over again!

I am never quite sure if this is what I want the next year!

I dither and dawdle

I try to be brave and energetic

About all my new projects and attempts.

But somehow this time,

Its hard to get up.

This time, the wound cut a little deeper.

This time,

I am a little more lost.

Its a little more darker.

But somewhere,

I see there is still a small, tiny light shining

It seems to be beckoning to me.

At least that’s what I think so.

That is the only thing that keeps me going

Somewhat...

I think its called hope.

I think it means that

Somehow something will work out.

...and it will always be for the best...

Nico - the true guy!

I have lost track of time. Feb 8th is the last time I was really lazy, woke up at 10:00 in the morning and did next to nothing. Ever since then, the days have jumbled one into another and I have lost count. I wake up at 7.30 in the morning, brush my teeth and then check the house to find where Nick has pooped. clean that and then go down to make his breakfast and my coffee. As he gobbles his breakfast, I have my divine nectar and then am off for a walk with my 4-legged f(r)iend. We gambol around the layout and I try my best to exhaust him. He happily checks out and tries his best to jump on all the pretty girls and the sari clad women he meets. When he was younger and smaller, pretty girls would come by his way and coo, 'He's sooo cute!!!!!!!!!! Can I pet him...?? OOOO my cutie pie....what's your name?' And me, his spokesperson obligingly supplies it - Nico. 'OOOO Nico Noci cute doggy cute doggy....so cute!' He, meanwhile wallows in the attention and gives a big goofy doggie grin and as they let him go, tries again to jump at them and I the cruel mistress, pulls his leash and says 'Enough Nico, lets go!'. This was the pattern almost every day and when my parents came, I said, 'You know this dog of mine loves women. Anyone who has XX chromosome, he's off being cute for them!' My dad did not believe me. He smiled at me indulgently thinking his girl is simply proud of her pup. After all how can males of all species run behind women? But my little pup proved him wrong! He was stunned when he came walking with me and Nico. Just outside our apartment as one of the girls clambered out to go to work, Nico ran off to meet and greet her. She obligingly cuddled him and petted him and asked, 'Does he bite?' I replied, not really, and she continued petting her. My dad was holding him (those days he was small enough to be held) and was too shocked to know that I was right!
My little pup is a celebrity amongst the women of this layout and there are many of those since there are 2 girls PG accommodations right next to my apartment. So once when Dad and Mom took him out for a walk, they passed the dosa camp. This place is full of people of ages and strata. kids, dads, moms, girls and boys of all ages drop by here after 4 o'clock in the evening. This place has people spilling over to the sidewalk and across the road till around 10:00 in the night when he closes. So Ma and Da were taking Nico around this place for a walk. A group of pretty 20+ girls were talking and spotted this little pup. They swooped down on him and started petting him. He was so happy that he obliged them and let them hold him. They rewarded him by taking pics and cuddling him. He gave them such a wide grin and his puppy yelps of happiness. It was a win-win situation. He loves being the star among women.
He is also quiet when he looks out and admires his women. We had almost finished our walk. My husband and I were almost home and we were opposite the girls PG when one of the girls was coming towards us. Nico sat down on the road. We knew what to expect, so we simply waited. I was holding the leash and my husband watched him as his eyes followed the girl. She was good looking in a neat and clean way, well dressed and smart. As she passed him, Nico's head swiveled and his eyes followed her till she disappeared down the road. Then my regal flirt got up and walked back. Who said he only jumps at women? He can simply watch them and admire their grace and beauty as he sits on the road.

Respect!

The brutal rape and assault on Delhi girl Damini was deplorable. It was an invasion of decency, privacy and civilized behaviour by the men who did it. everyone has focused on what the poor girl had to go through and how the men, ooops! wait, the boys treated her. They beat her to death after raping her. Calling them animals would insult the animals. They are barbarians.
She died after a brave attempt at life, but had sustained too many serious imjuries to vital organs to really stay alive. So mercifully death wrapped her arms around her and took her to a safe place.
Enter the politicians and the news media of the day. Politicians' varying comments on it ranging from making an anti rape law named after her and then others saying that she has crossed the 'Lakshman rekha' and so invited doom. Then again others saying that women who are indecent should expect such treatment to be meted out to them.
No one has given kudos to the only man in the whole scene - the guy who was with her at that time and tried to protect her. Who, even after the event, tried his best to protect her and get her treated ignoring his own injuries and condition.
This is a clear case where there is apathy not only for action, but also for respect to individuals. These 2 people were thrown naked on the road after suffering so many injuries and indignities. Our country instead decides which is the best and most flowery way to comemorate the girl's death and give it as much air time as possible.
The underlying issues of safety in cities and respect to women and people in general is conveniently ignored in this whole tamasha. For, it has become an air time tamasha...so much of bruhaha and as usual nothing gets done!
O just switch off your television sets! Think about how you can change this situation. And do it. Candle lit marches are sooo not done! If there wasnt any media coverage of this march, would the people still hold these kind of things? I doubt.
Instead of condemning all men, think about that one guy who tried to protect her. Has anyone done anything or even said anything to him. Now, that's a man! Really kudos to him! I applaud his bravery and also his maturity in keeping his needs secondary to hers. I hope he maintains his dignity throughout and doesnt go beserk in the media frenzy that will cloud him now that she is dead and the media vultures will want to know the gory details. (Already today's newapaper has one of this as headlines).
There was an interesting insight by one of the socilogists in the panel in CNN IBN tha really got my goat. She went on to say that women in India have been suppressed and that they follow the patriarch of the family. While that may be true in some cases, not all cases are like that. Today's urban woman, and yes our victim was also one of those, is assertive enough to tell the man of the hoouse to shut up and mind his own business if need be, subtly or otherwise. Like I once heard a woman in a movie say, 'Men are the head of the family, but women are the neck on which the head rests. We can turn the head which ever way we want.' I guess most women in the world know that :-D
Just because some men are barbarians not all men are. But men do need to realise that if any woman has style and attitude and is bold enough to flaunt it, she is not asking to be molested or raped. She need not be subjugated and neither is it the man's duty to show who is sexually superior - by force. They not only have an overdose of testosterone but are also perverted in their thoughts and attitudes. These men should be chemically castrated. Or otherwise too!
Men in this country need to appreciate that women can wear what they want and let them be. There are so many men who show their chests off hairy adn disgusting. Could we please wax their chest hair publicly? Just because we dont like it? They too dress inappropriately and show off their underwears. Could we also undress them and have them walk naked on the roads? Saying it is easy but the fact is women are physically weaker.
People in this country need to develop a decent attitude. Its not the dress that women wear but the eyes which undress the women in this country. That is actually the main problem. Sometimes, like in this one, the hands and actions follow the eyes.
Besides, I feel it is wrong to say that in India, women are not given enough respect. Is it lack of respect that there are so many women politicians in this country? Jayalalithaa in the south, Mamata Banerjee in the east. Mayawati and Sushma Swaraj in the north. Top it all, the neck of the country, President of the Congress Party Madam Sonia is directing the head of the country (the poor man!). With so many women in leading positions, its actually quite pathetic that the common woman of this country has to face quite an uncommon amount of physical and mental torment.
Instead of quibbling about what name to give the law, can the people please make the law and more important - implement it, please?

The empty screen

You sit in front of the computer, staring at the screen...willing your mind to generate a few words so you can get rid of the inertia and let the words flow. The design of the page is wonderful, the room somehow looks messier, so you want to clean it up and make the space less distracting. Then you remember chores that could have done 2 days back, but haven't yet managed to do. Once you are done with that you sit once more and face your nemesis - the blank screen. But then the phone rings and you start jabbering into it and lose focus. The blank screen with the designs on the sides is left alone for the day. But tomorrow always is alive. There's another day, another chance.

So when the sun rises the next day and you finally decide to get off the bed and greet the day, you finally begin writing. The words flow, but they seem to be all wrong. They are so jumbled and inarticulate that you are ashamed to say you can write. Argh!!!!!!!!

Ctrl A + delete. Start afresh. 

Blocked.

Beat your head against the wall.

Go eat some chocolates.

Read a novel.

Drown yourself in it.

Order food at home.

Look at the blank screen,

contempt written all over your face,

look away from it like its some horrible crime scene and in a way it is - for you.

Then look at it once more, as though fascinated by it.

Mesmerized...

Stare at the screen like a zombie.

Your eyes droop with sleep.

Your head nods with exhaustion. 

But then you suddenly wake up. 

Dazed, you still look at the screen blank as your mind.

your eyes slowly close and finally you fight sleep no longer. 

As you wake up and see the keys, your tired mind forms the words slowly, hesitantly and soon you simply ignore the rest of the world. You are consumed by the screen, the words that are in your mind and your surroundings outside your mind mean little to you. 

Suddenly you feel something reaching out to you. you rest your tired fingers that have worked without a pause and touch the screen lovingly. This very screen that had tormented you so much... now its full of words and deeds that you wanted to show and see...and as your hands feel the screen, you feel that beneath the hard exterior there's someone out there, reaching out to you. Curious, you press the screen a little harder, with a little more pressure..there....there.... aaaah! right there....! Soon you too seem enveloped in the whiteness that had once flummoxed you. But you look a little deeper and hmm... what is that? A little colour, perhaps? Yes.. So you step inside and you see with your own eyes the world that you had created. That little world of yours that was once in your mind is right in front of your eyes. You know each one of them and they all look at you some what expectantly. A small smile creases your lips and the crinkles your eyes. 

Somewhere vaguely ... dimly...... somewhere faaaar faaaar away you hear a once familiar voice calling out... Nainaaa.....Nainaaaa...Naina where are you? 

'O My God!!!' Then silence....and when you look back, there's only darkness. But right there in front of you is a world of colour and excitement. you look ahead.

But outside, an empty chair swivels near the table....

Ghost of the past

The past is a very useful thing. It is who we were. But then things in the past make us change.
We change from who we were to who we are. the past us becomes a ghost. ghosts are an unpleasant existence. a pestilence of sorts. Unless they follow us in to the present, we end up letting them go. They are our ghosts - somethings that exist but definitely cannot be seen. Those should remain that way.
When they come and pry and poke you into your present then these should be ignored or simply cut off... because if one is not welcome, then one should not try to get in. It  is in bad taste and makes the other a cad.
In all things, there is a certain dignity that should be present. Once dignity is absent, then the relationship becomes disgusting. If both parties concerned understand this, it is more civilized. Else it speaks of some kind of mental perversion or a kind of derangement.
I hope my ghosts are all buried and all the skeletons in my closet are well and truly locked. I am older and wiser and certainly don't want anything other than a placid life peppered with a few exciting breath taking moments... after all, life is all about looking ahead towards the future and not looking over your shoulder to see if danger lurks around.
Ciao my past!
Hello future!
But the present is a gift!
:-)

Johnny Goes down!

Johnny goes down by Karan Bajaj is a very unlikely book by an Indian Author. Its a cool mix of Rambo and the author says Indiana Jones and that of a cute hindi movie and a Wild west movie. The protagonist – Nikhil Arya is an orphan in MIT who is all brains. Technical as well as computer. And all heart too.

He survives various extreme conditions without the CIA’s training and is as common as you and me. Yet, as uncommon as a lustrous pink diamond in a gutter in Mumbai. Common because he has a mostly civilian background and uncommon because he manages to not only survive but also succeed in all his extreme environments creating a successful track record for others as well as himself in the most unlikely ways. He is a passionate man who wants to denounce his passion very passionately at every stage but ends up being just as passionate about everything he does. And he does everything exceptionally well. Be it love making, money making or even computer game making. And of course he is tops at the game of survival. He touches lives and makes everybody love him. He is exceptional like that. Maybe movies and super hero comic books are full of heros like him. The lone riding gunslinger types. But this is the first I have read with an Indian protagonist. And I love it. Johnny goes down is a book of many shades and colours. It is one of the few Indian books that does not deal with bereavement and loss in quite the same way as others do. Its quite cheerful. Its actually up in the leagues of Jeffery archer types. I only hope and pray that he does not get type cast so that one book is like the rest. I cross my fingers for you Karan Bajaj... please churn out something exceptional and you have a faithful reader in me!

Love you!