Berets wearing blue collar..

Atop one of the peaks, Lake district.

Randomers...

I usually don't do such posts but the following interesting bobs were a part of one of those lengthy e-mails written today, just thought Ill share them here as well.

[1] The hemingway's sixwords- Learnt about it from Sashi's blog and spent a few minutes thinking about it while biking. Came up with this one-

Epitaph- Wanted all : Cake, Icing, sex.

The brevity exercise reminded me of a particular series of crisp and no-nonsense telegram from Nehru to his father. Just a bit background : Both Jawaharlal Nehru and his father Motilal were well known for writing lengthy letters to each other. But when Nehru was having a frolicky time in Cambridge he made sure most of his communications to his father was a sweet n snappy telegram/s-

money.

Now surely you cant beat that? How many high street stories you can find in the word is left upto your imagination.

Nexty is today's Gaurdian Blog ( they can hit it grand once in a while in between most other nonsensical attempts).So the tuesday tea time question was....
Turn on books? and Put off books?, kindly read the blog to get the whole idea.

[a]For my conscience, I would be attracted to anyone reading a Finnegan's Wake. And I mean anyone, Man, Woman, God, Ghost.
and
[b] No put offs, Whatever may be the weight and the wisdom of the book, after all a book is still two dimensional.
So help me God.

Love and Lies..

Last Tuesday near
embankment,bumped
into an ex; Same
smile, same hair
Same old pair of jeans.
I’m sure
She thought the same
about my shirt. My shoes.
Even my deodorant.

After exchanging smiles,
surprises and pleasant
remarks about appearances,
We set out for a
drink in a nearby pub.

She is married now, to a banker;
She works part time designing
and attends Spanish and salsa.
She went on a skiing
holiday to France recently.

Is she happy?
She is she is!
But she doesn’t
look in the eye.


And Yes I still set the alarm
for thirteen past six, and yes I still
have only carte noire for coffee. Yes yes I still
don’t wash my socks and just
throw them away after
Use.

Did I find anyone special?
Well yes, Now
and then.
She curves a
hesitant, all knowing
smile.

After some such talk
and a shared bill
We part
with goodbyes, another type of
smiles, promises; all
suitable noises.

We have moved on, two
old lovers, we are linked
only
by a distant love and a
thread of lies that
only we know
about each other.

We also are what we have lost.

~For FSB...because we also are what we have lost

Days turn
over and
over again.Nights
in between, carry on
as ever.

Through them all
you sift;
dropping a smile here,
shedding a tear there
older , wiser [?]

Between such beings and
becomings,
you are like an
open meadow that
stands naked
in the autumn shower,

rapturous to others but
inconsolable within.


PS ~Title borrowed of course from Amores Perros.

Autobiography of white silk..

Sea song...

Seawetsoil seawater seaair,
all become
seafront.
Seagulls
fly low cooing..
See…
kids, colours; joyous
families promenade;
seagreen, seagrey, seablue
sea strums sea music
at sea distance
see...life
Sea.

~ West Sussex.

How we own our love?

Old one, edited....

I stand before you
with a springbrewing in my heart;
we bare all,
in haste:a naked secret,
old loves, ribs,
navel, and breasts.

I free your tresses from the
grip of a cheap plastic
and let them flow
over your shy eyes
ivory shoulders, Hepburn neck…
I press your warming body, hard against mine;
and between your chuckles, moans;
I wet your temporalis,maxilla,
zygoma,with my beer beaten tongue.

In a mad dance,
I sin you, you sin me,
not two sins,
Just One…
for a small history,
only for us….

Then after a cigarette
and several turns of
the swirling fan blades,
I gaze at your Rodin head in my arms,
lost in deep soulful sleep,

I know it is only now;
I can claim you as mine
and mine alone…
When you wake up
you would start about with going
to a movie and shopping
while I just want to
laze around reading ole books.

Late summer dusks...

~Northern Lake district,Cumbria.
Late summer dusks are splendid and the weather is unbearably beautiful..., one of the best spree in recent memory.

Yellow pages...

Was looking for Zadie Smith’s White Teeth for J who has been bugging me for it for sometime now and as I was rummaging through the book hill, I found a few old and precious ones , which like many old and precious ones unlocked a prison house full of memories.
A snap and a few lines in a journal over a cup of tea would at least record the moment if not do it any justice.



~Journals, Kurt Cobain

Though the book is a capitalistic marketing of an icon I could not resist buying it. I wanted to know if he was the same person I had reckoned him to be through his songs. When I finished the book , I had realised how incredibly daft and supremely beautiful was his passion for music. The book is an excellent journey of affect through passion and how it burns you out if left on its own.

~The Diaries , Franz Kafka

Hmm the man! the mystery!
This book personally represents so much confusion and lack of direction. I remember first reading it for 36 hours flat through two nights and a day. More importantly, as you can see, it is the only book I have nicked off a public library!! I had made several positively conscientious attempts to return it back and in fact had successfully done so on one occasion but it found me too irresistible. Once after returning it I remembered how beautifully he had described the scene of waiting in a train station and wanted to read the passage again but couldn’t manage to find the book. After several weeks I accidentally discovered the book misplaced in a geography section of the library and I instantly knew two things. One-- that the book was mine and Two-- that I’m not going to heaven.
Also reminds me of reading many passages to S all through the night and how when we broke up she took it upon herself to return it back stating ‘it was her duty to return the book to its due and sole owner in spite of having to resist owning it herself ’.

The Story Of Philosophy, Will Durant

This book is amazingly cheap priced for the wisdom is bestows. I remember- Me and C bought a copy each and started the reading sessions alternating with discussions during long walks, drives and evening teas during our internship days. I’m yet to find a better primer for philosophy than this book written by the delicately humorous Durant and whole-heartedly recommend it to anyone who wishes to acquaint with the schools in philosophy.Personally I cherish my copy with all the wild and illegible scribbles and highlighting. For me and C It is a symbol of growth and a visage of what a concerted and collective human exploration means.

Invisible Cities, Italo Calvino

Who would have known this tiny self help kind of looking book would charm the world out of you ! I think I found it at the right time , just when I was developing interest in the anatomy and physiology in the life of the city, Calvino showed the beauty of metaphysics in the cities chronicling each one as a flag hoisted through the travels all across eternity. Also, it affirmed my conviction that nothing equals the beauty of the abstract. Besides, this is the copy for which I almost went to war against A for forgetting it in Italy. For you A, Yes I know its kalveeeeeeeeno and not Calvino but in return I’ve made you more professional with the book returns.

I think I should leave you with the words of Richard De Bury from-Of the Love of Books :

How highly we must estimate the wondrous power of books, since through them we survey the utmost bounds of world and time, and contemplate the things that are as well as those that are not , as it were in the mirror of eternity.

India - Border Roads Organisation....

You have barely heard of the name Border Roads Organisation as you start off on the highest motorable road* in the world. And as the ascent begins it would not escape your eye how the road has been cleverly carved through the ruggedly masculine and majestic Himalayas, widening when needed and arching into a narrow and lengthy curve where appropriate. The road undoubtedly is treacherous, but you never feel unsafe even for a moment.

The scene that flanks you beside is a textbook fairly tale image which would never fail to marvel or move any heart. You climb along the misty trails and through the progressively dropping temperature to find your lungs pumping the freshest of fresh airs. There is no civilization in near sight, only the pure white sky and the near bit of road ahead. The far distant peaks promise panorama and peace.






The drivers communicate in their own language, dippers, honks, unfathomable gestures etc all through the demanding drive. It is then you begin to realise, how hard it could be to manage and maintain the road throughout such harsh weather and uninhabitable terrain and as you continue wondering about it you start to notice heavily clothed men and bulldozers working to clear off the fresh snow from the road, often holding traffic. As you drive further higher up, the signboards marked Border Roads Organisation become more frequent guiding you through to safer futures.

Somehow as you manage through a bumpy ride on one unhealthy segment of a longish curve with its metalling worn out off the road, you are greeted to a better maintained segment with a board which reads Inconvenience is Regretted, BRO.

In a nation that is India, to find such a courteous signboard here, in this desolate corner, at an altitude of 15000 feet or so above the sea level under such rough conditions melts your heart away. As they say great deeds go into history books but its the smaller gestures that find their place in the heart.

And as I think of that road and Border Roads Organisation now, I can only infer how it is a rare symbol of what a spoonful of will and discipline can do to India. On their site Shramena sarvam sadhyam reads the sanskrit motto of Border Roads Organisation, i.e With hard work every thing is possible.

Indeed.

*Highest motorable road- Connects Manali to Leh through several passes inc, the famous Rohtang and Khardung La.