to each one’s own

red ash

the leaves they break from their tenuos joints

and sway down over the hot black earth

at the hint of a breeze

they dont bend softly

as you walk over them

they crackle and crumble

under your stead

the picket did not save them

them trees that still stand tall

with a little green patch over their heads waiting for rains to fall

the little weeds needed to die

so they say and trees will grow again

so here they are

red

burnt

and standing so tall

oops

a sexy woman walked into the lift today
in the sweltering heat of mumbai
she wore grey tweed dress
unmissable
with a wide and plunging neckline

and all of us gawked.
i imagined my baggy clad woman colleague saying
chee.... women today
i imagined her male colleagues
trying hard to look nowhere but her eyes

i was the only one she caught smiling
hey, i wanted to call out... i am not smiling
i am just, smiling

like @ all seasons

an old colleague called me up after 6 years, yesterday. he who used to be so shy and reticent was talking nineteen to a dozen about how i have been the best 'boss', how i kept my team together, how there used to be a feelgood feeling when i was around. how i should be back in that organisation since now it is ridden only with talkers and no doers, he said.

i did roll my eyes once a while and tried to cut short his 'appreciation' since he seemed to be going overboard. Being appreciated, i do love and gloat at as well, but when one trips over his tongue, it reeks of a desperation which i would rather do without.
and then i got to know that he had been negotiating over something and was asked to leave the organisation instead.

okay, so this explains it, i thought. i ofcourse know that my team was good and i was good but it made me nod my head again, thinking that ...

we generally like and appreciate things in comparison.
one thing is good because the other is not good enough.

and how beautiful it is to like something just for what it is
without any comparisons

Jenna Loves Me

Jenna came into my life by accident. Like when you press * by mistake and the good people keep changing your dialler tune for you.

She professes through countless emails that she ís my friend and sends across psychic reading for me. (I might have done some good deeds in my past life for her to worry about me so much). Imagine, in today's world when you have to pay even to take a leak, Jenna does not mind that I have not paid her the $ 45 that she had once asked me for.

She is more regular in keeping in touch with me than I am with even chatting up with my folks. My Dad would have loved to have her as his daughter.
Once she sent me pictures of some strange looking men and horses. Here...

I should have thanked her for the postcard. She might have really loved it coz she went on and on about some chariot and # 7 and how the man with the funny hat was standing. I hope she does not see me as a man coz she kept on comparing me to him.

September, last year, she was very excited that I would be entering into an Astrological Transit which would, she said, have an enormous importance in my life.

She said, "Reena, I know that each one of us counts on our own intuition but believe me, in my experience, this is often not enough. As far as you are concerned the Transit which you will soon live through is too important for you to risk missing out on it, I could even go so far as to say that after having analyzed and reanalzyed your astral skies I can see that this Transit could really play a very decisive role in your life if you are able to get the very best out of it. "

She was even at my disposal, she said, to do whatever she could for seeing me through the transit.

I wonder if I should have told her about the golden and purple costume I thought of designing for my Astronomical Transit (even the golden sun kissed hairdo I had in mind). It does go with the image of Astronomical Transit, does'nt it? But I forgot. What a relief it was to know that Jenna was not angry with me for long.

She still keeps sending me those nice colourful postcards. I do not have the heart to ask her to perhaps send me postcards of some movie stars or even mountains.

She would be sending me a book written on me. A book of Revelations, she said. I have always fancied a book on myself. But I would not want everyone to see it. Given her love for colours, she might just put a picture of me in purple pants.

My Tarot Personae

that I bumped into through some other blog

The Sun Vs cliched Darksunshine

:)

You are The Sun

Happiness, Content, Joy.
The meanings for the Sun are fairly simple and consistent.
Young, healthy, new, fresh. The brain is working, things that were muddled come clear, everything falls into place, and everything seems to go your way.
The Sun is ruled by the Sun, of course. This is the light that comes after the long dark night, Apollo to the Moon's Diana. A positive card, it promises you your day in the sun. Glory, gain, triumph, pleasure, truth, success. As the moon symbolized inspiration from the unconscious, from dreams, this card symbolizes discoveries made fully consciousness and wide awake. You have an understanding and enjoyment of science and math, beautifully constructed music, carefully reasoned philosophy. It is a card of intellect, clarity of mind, and feelings of youthful energy.

What Tarot Card are You?

Take the Test to Find Out.

Bluff

Timbre of voices
Half heard
Imaginations of far away unsaid conversations
Drone of meaningless fillers

Smile-laugh-mechanically respond
Think of what to say next
Not to leave
Not to stay

Beware of what you want, coz you might get it
Beware of what you proclaim, lest the bluff be called

still

I Am The Silent Spectator
The wordless Audience
The Indifferent Timekeeper

Of That Which Passes By
That...Called, My Life

sleep

with abandon they sleep
after a days' labour
of searching for food and shelter
of searching for family

@ a relief camp in supaul district, bihar.

enroute patna (from supaul....)

the village was one among many which was flooded not directly by the swollen kosi but by incessant rains trapped in faulty infrastructure.
this is a yearly feature though this year it is worse because of rivers on the rise everywhere.

a lazy saturday

chai

friends

jhula

and fresh air

what more can one want?

(music, chicken included)

in the high

i am swirling
i am there
it is the space
it is the time

want to stay in this cloud
want to fly
in the high

no food for soul

this online music site has made me waste time. made me upload download whatever 15 artists then upload download whatever 45 songs then it does not play.
it is not fair. i am a simple small town woman. this should've been simple. all i wanted was to listen to music.

@ A Happy Sunday

Regret, redefined:
Sanity realised when the damage is done

Realisation, redefined:
When the ego takes a back seat and misplaced pride is accepted

Stupidity, redefined:
When you don’t know how to go back when you have realised the right path

Loss, redefined:
When you don’t want to go back when you have realised the right path

Giving, redefined:
When you can surrender without losing yourself

Gift, redefined:
When you can give it to someone because you like it so much for yourself

Joy, redefined:
When you feel a tangible lift of something within you even when your life is not as you would have wanted it to be

Maturity, redefined:
When you can separate the good and the bad; build upon the good, understand the bad and work to make it good

Impulse, redefined:
When you would not act upon something in the light of the day

A good idea redefined:
When it would seem good, be it night or day

Imagination, redefined:
When you see things because you want them to be

Obsession, redefined:
When you start believing that your misplaced imagination is the reality

Faith, redefined:
When you know that even if the present is tough, good things are bound to happen to you

Avarice, redefined:
When you don’t know when to stop

Liking redefined:
When you can accept the negatives, yet feel great fondness and the wish to stay on

Love, redefined:
When giving does not depend on getting

Beer, redefined:


:)

the jodhpur-noamundi connection

@ Mehrangarh Fort, Jodhpur.

I had similar clay dolls, bought at a Durga Puja fair (way back)
I had christened them as Mr. and Mrs. Dutta.

Mrs. Dutta was voluptuous in a green saree and red blouse
and wore a big red bindi
Mr. Dutta wore white dhoti-kurta and carried a black umbrella
What better name than Mr. and Mrs. Dutta, right?

They were quite famous with my kid-neighbour
The kid would love to shake their spring-heads
Jing-jing-jing
Up and down….
He would make Mr. Dutta look down
And Mrs. Dutta, head up, as if she was commanding Mr. Dutta, “To-bey Thaak…”

One day Gopal- the kid, came running to our house
asking to play with Mr. and Mrs. Dutta
Mr. and Mrs. Dutta, the real ones (who were Dad’s friends) had come visiting us that evening,
Needless to say, they did not look too amused

Nevertheless they said….. “yeh bachey…”.

The real Mrs. Dutta was actually really good
She would make out-of-the-world dal-luchi
(back then, Durga Pujas used to be quite a treat)

The real Mr. and Mrs. Dutta had a parrot called Polly.
Polly would screech himself shrill….. “P-A-U-L-L-L-E-E…tumor naam ki”
“P-A-U-L-L-L-E-E…tumor naam ki”
“P-A-U-L-L-L-E-E…tumor naam ki”
“P-A-U-L-L-L-E-E…tumor naam ki”

Could and Would anyone be able to resist pulling his long tail?

I should have introduced Gopal-the–kid to Polly
He would have made P-A-U-L-L-L-E-E’s head go jing-jing-jing….
Up and down…

:)

Dil ki choton ne kabhi
Chai-n se rahne na diya....
Jab chali sard hawa
Maine tujhe yaad kiya…
Iska rona nahin
Kyon tune kiya dil barbad…
Iska gham hai
Ki bade dair mein barbad kiya....

Wah-wah-wah-wah
Am going to listen to The Maestro himself. Am so excited.

cont…..
Humko kiske gham ne maara
Humko kiske gham ne maara
Ye kahaani
Phir sahi
Kisne toda dil hamaara
Kisne toda dil hamaara
Ye kahani, phir sahi

Wah Wah…again!

shoe-flowers @ quarter # 6

i ve always wanted to have an unruly bush of shoe-flowers by my gate.

red-pink-white...

single layered-double layered...all types of shoe-flower

like the ones i had at quarter # 6, noamundi (jharkhand)...

we were in that township for 3 years. this old house beside the forest, was called quarter no. 6.

quarter # 6 where ...

i had my 1st malaria (and many others followed, till we moved from that house) there..

i learnt (to my embarrasment) that bhindi (okra) should not be washed after cutting...

i learnt that being differently-abled does not rob a person from enjoying life

i learnt that the said man could effortlessly drink tea with his toes..

and would not be embarrased at being stared upon

i discovered that guavas taste the best when stolen from neighbours' gardens

i learnt that hiding quinine inside your mouth will only make you throw up

i learnt that aches and pains proclaim themselves only in the night

i learnt that mothers do not believe you when you writhe of stomach ache in the morning

i learnt that hiding behind the big oak, waiting for the school bus to leave..

would only make 'bansi' the driver, honk the blue bus with red seats, till mother would come out

i learnt that there was no need for a net between compounds for a badminton match

i learnt that triple riding on your hero-cycle, with little children of the neighbourbood would always, not be safe

i learnt that the mother cat of your one-day old adopted kitten can eat up your pet guinea pigs

i learnt that crying as you bury them will not rid you of the guilt

i learnt that calling out for your pet puppy 'timmy', with dad's boss 'jimmy' around, was actually funny

i learnt that brother's friends will treat you as a kid even if you suddenly turn coquettish

i learnt that your 1st crush may not appreciate it if you name him after your handsome dog 'buzzo'

i learnt that shifting from quarter # 6 to quarter # 15 had more of "i learnt's"...

i also learnt that i shall forever want those pink-red-white shoe-flowers around my compound and by my gate..

single-layered, double-layered...all kinds

:)

jia's pink frock

i made this tiny frock from a tiny piece of flannel for my niece jia. for 5-day old jia (Dec. '07). i took ages to stitch it and poked my finger more times than through the pink flannel. And touched and glossed over it more times than it was actually worn.

Bela

@ some village road beyond Khandala. (Here: Urmila and I).

This picture reminds me of Bela and Bahadur (God knows why). Bela of Indrajal Comics. Girlfriend of Bahadur. I remember liking Bahadur because he did not appear to be the type of man who would say or even think "Me Tarzan...You Jane"...


And Bela rode a bullet (if I remember correctly). Skilled in martial arts, she lay flat the dacoits and robbers. Tall, svelte and beautiful, she worked hand in hand with Bahadur to rid Jaigarh (I think) of its nefarious elements. In bell-bottoms and fitting tops (mostly green, I think), she did not need to wear high heels or show cleavage in order to look smart.

(I dunno how reading about her would feel now)

A picture of Bela copy pasted from someone's blog


(http://thecomicproject.blogspot.com/2005/07/comic-24-bahadur-dictates-of-destiny.html)

another time another place

I can feel the warmth of the rock on my back
The coolness of water on my feet

I look down to see the river bed rise up in brown cloud
While silver fishes tickle my toes

I can feel each pebble poke my feet
And I see my shadow disappear