I believe I can fly..

Love that song..

:-)

A metamorphosis is in the process.

Let me quote the opening line from Kafka's " The Metamorphosis"...

'As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect'..

Beautiful book that.. the protaganist, Gregor Samsa, a travelling salesman one day wakes to find that he has been transformed into a gigantic insect. He does not immediately recognise his physical state, rather chooses to lament about the external weather conditions. When he does realise that he has undergone a horrendous change, he prefers to resist any conscious recognition of the fact, focusing instead on the separation from his external environment. He is gradually alienated from the world around him and what kills him finally is the revelation that he has indeed become a burden, even to those he thought he was indispensable to.

The metamorphosis of the physical stucture, terrifying though it was did not bring his end. The fact that he was a burden & quite unwanted and unloved was the catalyst.

The heart... overrules the mind.

:-)

Rather like Gregor, my preoccupation with the shell overshadowed the core.

Was given sage advice, 'listen to your heart'. I am...

And now I believe I can fly......

The mind - fickle mistress

She's a demanding, consuming yet utterly unfaithful mistress.

Enchanting yet exasperating, free yet shackled, brave yet cowardly, your very own, Mo Cuishle... yet alien..

The Mind!!

Can you stake a claim on your wandering mind with her sinuously tangled wavering ideas and thoughts?

Ever wanted to shake the cranium until a congealed mass of grey matter seeped out of your septum... nasal or atrial.

Ah I arrive at the crux finally.. the heart.. the wandering mind.. in cohorts.. torturing tormenting the tenuous link that keeps you in reality's grasp.

Take your attention off them for a millisecond and it could cost you immortality (my friend uses this euphemism for death) my friend!!

Why is she such a demanding mistress.. why does she make you hold on to her, grasp her with such tremendous strength that she slips away with ease..

So what do you do... let her overtake sanity? reality?

This path of self destruction she leads you to subtlely with such finesse can lull you into an enchanted numbing of the senses.

Like a drowning man desperately seeking a breath independent of water, groping through the murky mire driven by an irrational fear to seek the light.. I struggle and flail weak arms.. while all the time wondering whether I have indeed lost my mind...

ha ha ha.... lost my mind indeed.. when did i ever own her to lose her..

Fickle mistress....

the rain gods have arrived

For a country that is making inroads in technology and progressing full steam ahead are lacking on development on road. Transport I mean.

Whatever the result, which actually is quite a mess with the roads & roundabouts being submerged almost completely .. this place hasn't felt more like home as it does now.

Rains in Mangalore.. its a religion by itself. Haven't met a Mangalorean who doesn't fervently say rain!! ... in reverent tones....yet.

The skies for the past 10 days here in the UAE are grey and murky, the rain when it falls alternates between a gentle waltz and a furious headbanging.

This country that is ill equipped to handle the vagaries of weather, being so accustomed to the heat is quite at sea. Literally!

The effects of Global Warming, says every smart aleck and his neighbor.

Whatever!!! make love when the rain pours... ;-)

'Tis the season to be merry!!

Do you need a season to be merry?

Christmas is round the corner and the feeling of well being that comes with it makes a fleeting visit. a melancholic malady revisits the lonely heart away from home and the excitement of kuswar( traditional mangalorean sweets), the fragrant aromas that tickled the gastronomical senses, of getting yourself new clothes to wear for Christmas mass and the dance that follows. Of singing carols for every reason and none for that matter. Of the joy in anticipating who will lead the Christamas eve mass and which church to go to.. which choir will be best and have women with fewer clothes than the other.

You dont have to look up a calender to know its Christmas.. you just have to identify the nameless excitement that threads your veins amd makes a beeline to your heart.

This is my second Christmas here. There's a fervent hope that this will be better than the last and that the children will still hope and believe in the magic of the spirit of Christmas and the joy of giving.

.......... and that it will be for us.. a season to be merry!!!

Virgin blog

With insouciance mired in curiosity i've viewed blogging for a while now and have been apprehensive to venture a tentative foot in its tepid waters. Rather virginal in its vacillation this feeling.
Why do i need to write.. to be read? If writing is a pure form of catharsis.. which it is for me.. my vanity pushes me to blog huh?

"When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen hath teemed my gleaning brain" - Keats

Apparently I'm not the only one..