After Mangalore Chronicles, which in itself is incomplete, I haven't written, probably cause my cup overflows. So much to write, to say, to expunge... but I let it simmer...
Mangalore Chronicles, by the way will find a place on this blogspot. Have to complete it.
Mangalore has been in the news for all the wrong reasons, I mean, I'm first to admit that i would rather be infamous than famous. Conformity, not my style. But not my Mangalore and not for communal reasons. Please.
I've been watching the mayhem, the madness and the marauding mob tear my home apart and it hurts, so much that I cant assimilate words. For now, I'm posting a mail I wrote 5 years ago and got buggered for.. read it and you'll know why, but even now... should i write it again, will do so, with the same sentiments and more tequila perhaps...
To Be Or Not To Be.... MANGALOREAN!!!
Okay so I’m Mangalorean. So what? Yeah we love to gossip, we love to drink, we love to pretend we’re terribly intellectual. So what? I sound like I’m pissed off n justifying myself. So what? Frankly, so Nothing. Just that I received this mail which says you’re Mangalorean if………. N goes on to list virtues that I don’t think belongs to us Mangy’s. OK …OK I know we’re mostly all fart no shit, but hey, So what? How does it affect Non-Mangy’s?
There is this breed of pure, blue blooded Mangy’s who would rather not associate themselves with Mangalore n bitch ‘bout Mangalore n Mangaloreans. Am I here to defend this eclectic, strange, multi-faceted culture? Umnnn, I have obtained my Bachelors degree in Academic Law, n you know the adage, “ Half a Nut is worse that a Whole”. My savoir faire, incidentally.
So what’s this strange emotion that makes me fiercely protective about Mangalore? Damned if I know. Have a sneaking suspicion that it just might be the combo of beer n tequila…… or is it the other way around? Well I’m inebriated enough to not involve myself with semantics. Permit me to use a ‘Mangy’ expression here, “whose father’s what goes” hehehehe Hic’.
Actually I’m just beginning to feel sorry for all u people who are part of my mailing list, u’ve got to endure shitty mail from me once in a while,,, hic’ sorrrrrrrrrrrry.
Ok now getting back to business, (whose? Your Father’s or Mine?) what is it that makes me love Mangalore? Where do I begin n hey I’m quite sober now, booze not workin enough. I love Mangalore, because, This is Me, this is what I Am this is where I belong, This is Home. Hearth, Heart, all here, there is no where else on earth I’d rather be……… sounds like the lyrics of a song, I think. Can I reiterate I’M Sober, hic’ .
Not just that, you know what Mangalore does that makes me wanna stick around till, The Good Lord decides he wants to exterminate a pest? ( makes God sound like one of the Men In Black eh?) I wanna stick around. I wanna grow old here, wanna breathe my last breath here. Coming back to why, this is where, I know, with conviction, that should I need a friend…….. I’ll find one. Should I need food for the soul……. I’ll find it. Should I need a shoulder to cry on……… right here. Should I need someone to just be there for me…….. there will be hordes. Should I need support…… there’s a battalion. Yeah it’s a small town, no job opportunities, not much scope for development, umnnn of what? Bank balance or the Soul? Different strokes for different folks I s’pose. Having said that, I’ll be the first to admit that we’re truly backward where career prospects are concerned n oh yeah it is the downside of being here, but then it is typical of most small towns isn’t it?
I love Mangalore for being a place where my children n me can walk around without being asked what religion we belong to. Am I a Hindu? Muslim? Christian? Buddhist……… ‘whose father’s what goes?’ hic….
Sad naah, when secular India is divided on basis of Caste? Does it matter? Let me proudly announce that we here in Mangalore are bound by a yarn of thread that contains myriad colors. Konkana’s, Brahmins, Muslims, Christians, Shetty’s, Pujaari’s, Jains, Koragas , n the many lovely religious clusters that make Mangalore what she is. I hope I’m not being too presumptuous by saying this and honestly hope that that the ugly division of Indian society doesn’t ever, ever, raise its monstrous head here.
What about the ice cream you have to eat? The educational institutions that edify one into becoming a complete individual? The crazy milieu of folks who love to make it a point to know what’s cookin in the neighbor’s pot, even if they are surviving on ‘ bangude and buthai’….. whose daughter/son, ran off with whom? Even if their own eloped. Whose daughter-in-law is worse? Even if their own belonged to a character from Balaji films stupid, odious serials. Whose father’s what goes?...... hic’.
Let me, (while sober,……. hic’) extol Mangalore’s scenic beauty, not just the women, the geographical beauty. God!!!!! But do we have lovely beaches or what? Sand that slithers through your fingers with just a trace of fine dust leaving you wondering whether it manifested itself into your being in the first place. The ocean? What do I say? I wish I had the craft that Arundhati Roy is so blessed with n describe my home with similar artistry. Blue, crystal waters that ripple with waves stronger than your fiercest orgasm?..........hic’…….. (all of you who know my mom, please oh please don’t forward this mail to her…… sheesh, orgasm indeed, she’ll disown me) the awesome rocks that coax the fierce sea into caressing her like a desperate woman trying with all her feminine wiles to seduce an unwilling lover?........... the varied shades of green in the landscape dotted with old bungalows, unkempt ones too, all of them add up to make my Mangalore.
I could wax eloquent bout the churches, temples, mosques…. Sum other time……… hic’ nosh jush now……. Hic.
A delightful swarm of assorted Mangys who believe that they were born to speak, abuse, amuse in Tulu? Whose father’s what goes…… hic’.
Hopefully you will be sober enough to combine the pro’s of being Mangalorean…….. hic’.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Mangalore Chronicles.. Estate....
What a whale of a time I'm currently having. Had planned an elaborate itinerary for my India trip and so far its been completely hunky dory.
Went to the estate. The drive itself filled my senses and engulfed my being. We wax eloquent about the verdant hills of Switzerland and they are beautiful ofcourse but wait and see the rolling mountains of gigantic propotions in my beloved Charmadi Ghats, part of the Western Ghats. It's raining and God in his heaven must be completely at peace. Every unasphalted patch of land is green and my, what shades of green. There are waterfalls aplenty and tiny purple flowers growing on the hills. I'm driving the SUV up the mountains with its 11 treacherous hairpin bends and loving it. The visibility is a killer though. I can't see more than 3 feet ahead, the mist is so thick, I roll down the windows and inhale the atmosphere, soak in it. It invades me, my being. I'm complete. I'm home.
We reach the Balehadlu, our coffee plantation at dusk. The dogs I haven't seen for 2 years look at me accusingly and whine and I can barely stop the tears. My garden wears the Lady Haversham look minus the cobwebs. The cottage is still beautiful though.
Next morning we drive into the estate on the jeep and are stuck in quagmire in a dozen places. The 4 wheel drive is seemingly powerless. We get off and walk and are inundated with blood sucking leeches galore. It would seem that they missed us too. Can't say the same.
The coffee plants are laden with green fruit and so are the pepper vines and arecanut and avaocado trees.
I go for long solitary walks every evening but solitary they rarely are.. I have my faithful dog following me and my thoughts to accompany me. I try and savor every moment of my stay here. Mom in law, kids n me.. we completely chilled out. Ate, slept, ate some more ans slept some more. By the way, back to my most favorite preoccupation. Am FAT. I swear and all that's holy and not. Mom is feeding me like its gonna go out of fashion and I'm loving it. Will worry about the love handles later.... much later.
We were in the Estate for 4 days and at the rate of sounding melodramatic, let me say.. when I drove away.. I felt a gut wrenching wave of sadness wash over me. This is where I want to be.. N I will..one day.. soon..forever!
Went to the estate. The drive itself filled my senses and engulfed my being. We wax eloquent about the verdant hills of Switzerland and they are beautiful ofcourse but wait and see the rolling mountains of gigantic propotions in my beloved Charmadi Ghats, part of the Western Ghats. It's raining and God in his heaven must be completely at peace. Every unasphalted patch of land is green and my, what shades of green. There are waterfalls aplenty and tiny purple flowers growing on the hills. I'm driving the SUV up the mountains with its 11 treacherous hairpin bends and loving it. The visibility is a killer though. I can't see more than 3 feet ahead, the mist is so thick, I roll down the windows and inhale the atmosphere, soak in it. It invades me, my being. I'm complete. I'm home.
We reach the Balehadlu, our coffee plantation at dusk. The dogs I haven't seen for 2 years look at me accusingly and whine and I can barely stop the tears. My garden wears the Lady Haversham look minus the cobwebs. The cottage is still beautiful though.
Next morning we drive into the estate on the jeep and are stuck in quagmire in a dozen places. The 4 wheel drive is seemingly powerless. We get off and walk and are inundated with blood sucking leeches galore. It would seem that they missed us too. Can't say the same.
The coffee plants are laden with green fruit and so are the pepper vines and arecanut and avaocado trees.
I go for long solitary walks every evening but solitary they rarely are.. I have my faithful dog following me and my thoughts to accompany me. I try and savor every moment of my stay here. Mom in law, kids n me.. we completely chilled out. Ate, slept, ate some more ans slept some more. By the way, back to my most favorite preoccupation. Am FAT. I swear and all that's holy and not. Mom is feeding me like its gonna go out of fashion and I'm loving it. Will worry about the love handles later.... much later.
We were in the Estate for 4 days and at the rate of sounding melodramatic, let me say.. when I drove away.. I felt a gut wrenching wave of sadness wash over me. This is where I want to be.. N I will..one day.. soon..forever!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Mangalore Chronicles
Haven't had this incredible urge in a helluva long time. This itch is desperate to be scratched. I need to write. I need to pen my thoughts, my feelings. And I have to absolutely desperately have to tell you about my journey to Mangalore.
Let me begin with what I'm feeling at this particular moment. Completely 'KAAT'... for various reasons beginning with the airsickness bag. You see I'm writing on it.. I don't have paper!! Asked the steward and he doesn't have any too. But you see Madam M has to, needs to, is itching to write. Okies.. scratch scratch...
Back to Kaat.. that's what Anjali would say.. call's me anyways.. an elongated ka....at... Mangaloean for cheap. And today I am epitome of the same. I'm loaded with 2 bags screaming Dubai Duty Free. Gawd!! My walk to the aircraft was bloody embarrassing. I felt the eyes of the whole world and her aunt watching this blob balancing two bags and a hugely shamefaced expression on the face.
When young, I used to watch the 'Gulfies' strut with these duty free bags and used to cringe on their behalf. Funny how life turns around and slaps you on your backside when you least expect it!!
Wonder how I'll get off the aricraft. Will I stick my 4 chins out and walk like I care an effin damn or will my nose take a dive trying to reach the ground to hide the flush on my face and apology in my eyes. Have to wait and watch. Methinks I think too much.. bout the most inconsequential things ever.
Have to tell you bout the passengers on the flight. I'm sittin in the front row, all alone. Not a brilliant idea considering that most parents with small babes are upgraded to the front seats. The flight is half full. Not too many squaling babes. Thankfully.
There's an absolute angel in the seat across the aisle from me. With eyes like mine but lashes like palm fronds and with dimples on her cheeks deep enough to hide candy in. Cannot take my eyes off her. And she's terribly opinionated.
Behind me is a mangalorean catholic family. Daddy, Mummy and Baby. Trying very hard to sound like posh-english-speaking expats. "Kaale baby.. sit fast. Flight is going.. you want to go aeroplane or bail gaadi" all in one breath. Poor child like she has a choice now that we are airborne. Hey daddy is talking english.. what you know man? Too much blogging fool. Daddy is asking the stewardess serving the most unpalatable snacks on earth, " beer, beer... I want beer" Stewardess, " Sir, this is not drinks trolley". Mummy angry got with daddy.. " you only think about drinks.. kaale tu.. "
Just before the cutie with the dimples n eyes occupied the seat across mine.. thre was a flurry of activity. Enter.. pure mangalorean aunty wearin 4 fat gold bangles, chiffon saree with blue pink flowers, hair in neat bun with 3 pins, gold rimmed spectacles and a mean mouth. Takes the window seat. A pale looking little thing in a sri lankan-auntie-long-skirt follows and flops into the middle seat. Tight T-shirt-nipples poking-jeemps pant-sport shoes-baldie mister walks behind holding eskimo bundle. You should have been here, I swear. It was so bloody hot that its not funny and the babe was wrapped in blankets that would hatched a newly laid egg.
Ok. they all settle down and peace reigns for exactly 3 minutes and 47 seconds. I was counting :)
Pale face begins drama - ' I can't sit here, too hot.. moan.. whine,, groan.. whimper. Mother in law looks out of the window with such attention you would think she has been paid to count the pieces of baggage being loaded onto the aircraft. Baldie mister-holding eskimo- guitar style rants at bag counting mother. ' Why did we have to come and sit here.. we were fine in the 3rd row. you like to sit in front.. why i dont know... grr.. gr... bark!'
What a sucker. Number One: you've wrapped a hapless newborn in fleece thick enough to make the hair on my legs cringe in shame and defeat. Number two: idiot, bloody fool.. you fell for IT!!! He's in between a power struggle and the ass hasn't figured it out. Mother plays first card - move to the front., daughter in law complies, cannot stand her ground and refuse, she's young yet. Instead, plays flip flop, moans and whines and baldie mister-holding eskimo-guitar style falls for it. Round one goes to Wife. They file back to to the third row in stony silence.
I watch the tableau and cannot hide my smile. Thankfully I'm bewitched by the next occupants of the seat. Mother and child - eyes and dimples.
Let me begin with what I'm feeling at this particular moment. Completely 'KAAT'... for various reasons beginning with the airsickness bag. You see I'm writing on it.. I don't have paper!! Asked the steward and he doesn't have any too. But you see Madam M has to, needs to, is itching to write. Okies.. scratch scratch...
Back to Kaat.. that's what Anjali would say.. call's me anyways.. an elongated ka....at... Mangaloean for cheap. And today I am epitome of the same. I'm loaded with 2 bags screaming Dubai Duty Free. Gawd!! My walk to the aircraft was bloody embarrassing. I felt the eyes of the whole world and her aunt watching this blob balancing two bags and a hugely shamefaced expression on the face.
When young, I used to watch the 'Gulfies' strut with these duty free bags and used to cringe on their behalf. Funny how life turns around and slaps you on your backside when you least expect it!!
Wonder how I'll get off the aricraft. Will I stick my 4 chins out and walk like I care an effin damn or will my nose take a dive trying to reach the ground to hide the flush on my face and apology in my eyes. Have to wait and watch. Methinks I think too much.. bout the most inconsequential things ever.
Have to tell you bout the passengers on the flight. I'm sittin in the front row, all alone. Not a brilliant idea considering that most parents with small babes are upgraded to the front seats. The flight is half full. Not too many squaling babes. Thankfully.
There's an absolute angel in the seat across the aisle from me. With eyes like mine but lashes like palm fronds and with dimples on her cheeks deep enough to hide candy in. Cannot take my eyes off her. And she's terribly opinionated.
Behind me is a mangalorean catholic family. Daddy, Mummy and Baby. Trying very hard to sound like posh-english-speaking expats. "Kaale baby.. sit fast. Flight is going.. you want to go aeroplane or bail gaadi" all in one breath. Poor child like she has a choice now that we are airborne. Hey daddy is talking english.. what you know man? Too much blogging fool. Daddy is asking the stewardess serving the most unpalatable snacks on earth, " beer, beer... I want beer" Stewardess, " Sir, this is not drinks trolley". Mummy angry got with daddy.. " you only think about drinks.. kaale tu.. "
Just before the cutie with the dimples n eyes occupied the seat across mine.. thre was a flurry of activity. Enter.. pure mangalorean aunty wearin 4 fat gold bangles, chiffon saree with blue pink flowers, hair in neat bun with 3 pins, gold rimmed spectacles and a mean mouth. Takes the window seat. A pale looking little thing in a sri lankan-auntie-long-skirt follows and flops into the middle seat. Tight T-shirt-nipples poking-jeemps pant-sport shoes-baldie mister walks behind holding eskimo bundle. You should have been here, I swear. It was so bloody hot that its not funny and the babe was wrapped in blankets that would hatched a newly laid egg.
Ok. they all settle down and peace reigns for exactly 3 minutes and 47 seconds. I was counting :)
Pale face begins drama - ' I can't sit here, too hot.. moan.. whine,, groan.. whimper. Mother in law looks out of the window with such attention you would think she has been paid to count the pieces of baggage being loaded onto the aircraft. Baldie mister-holding eskimo- guitar style rants at bag counting mother. ' Why did we have to come and sit here.. we were fine in the 3rd row. you like to sit in front.. why i dont know... grr.. gr... bark!'
What a sucker. Number One: you've wrapped a hapless newborn in fleece thick enough to make the hair on my legs cringe in shame and defeat. Number two: idiot, bloody fool.. you fell for IT!!! He's in between a power struggle and the ass hasn't figured it out. Mother plays first card - move to the front., daughter in law complies, cannot stand her ground and refuse, she's young yet. Instead, plays flip flop, moans and whines and baldie mister-holding eskimo-guitar style falls for it. Round one goes to Wife. They file back to to the third row in stony silence.
I watch the tableau and cannot hide my smile. Thankfully I'm bewitched by the next occupants of the seat. Mother and child - eyes and dimples.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Two bricks short of a full load
Was reading a book yesterday and came across this sentence ' two bricks short of a full load' and was amused.. it stayed with me.. made me smile and ponder.. felt comfortable.. rolled it over in my head.. loved the sound of it on my tongue and the affinity I had for it was immense.
I suppose that's 'cos of the comfort factor I derive from.. feels familiar like someone.. somehow was describing your's truly and that someone would be my friends.. the ones I've grown with.
If they were asked to describe me, in very Mangalorean fashion they would say..' that one.. that is like that only.. two bricks.......... :-)'
I've recognised the fact that I love having a pet angst. If something does not bother me.. I feel empty. Is this a confessional..... ....I suppose. Since I do not believe in baring my soul to the priest.. hallelujiah Blogger!
Seriously though I need a bee in my bonnet. And it has to be the busiest, noisiest bee. The latest ofcourse is my battle with the bulge. When I think about it rationally, I'm like.. who cares about what the set standards of acceptable girth are. The rebel in me is up in arms.. But then again I do want to gel.. will wait for hubby's arrival and pester him with.. "i've put on weight huh".. hee hee... if there's anything that can trigger off a spate of disgusted, disgruntled and resigned volley to the oft repeated Q.. nothing beats this. Love to pester him.. must be that bee....
Oh and by the way.. you see.. after all I am two bricks short...
:-)
There.. i justified it..
Wicked!!
I suppose that's 'cos of the comfort factor I derive from.. feels familiar like someone.. somehow was describing your's truly and that someone would be my friends.. the ones I've grown with.
If they were asked to describe me, in very Mangalorean fashion they would say..' that one.. that is like that only.. two bricks.......... :-)'
I've recognised the fact that I love having a pet angst. If something does not bother me.. I feel empty. Is this a confessional..... ....I suppose. Since I do not believe in baring my soul to the priest.. hallelujiah Blogger!
Seriously though I need a bee in my bonnet. And it has to be the busiest, noisiest bee. The latest ofcourse is my battle with the bulge. When I think about it rationally, I'm like.. who cares about what the set standards of acceptable girth are. The rebel in me is up in arms.. But then again I do want to gel.. will wait for hubby's arrival and pester him with.. "i've put on weight huh".. hee hee... if there's anything that can trigger off a spate of disgusted, disgruntled and resigned volley to the oft repeated Q.. nothing beats this. Love to pester him.. must be that bee....
Oh and by the way.. you see.. after all I am two bricks short...
:-)
There.. i justified it..
Wicked!!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Immobile!
Had a long soak with my fav melon and apple bath and scented candles.. was heavenly only to be marred by my cellphone taking a dive into the water too.. Jeez!!
Have spent the day without the mobile and fankly have been immobile.. was embarrassing takin it around and explainin to the grinnin technicians about the mishap.
Got my answer to a rather niggling doubt I had yesterday morning though. Watched the movie 'The Oh in OHIO'. The rather sad preoccupation of sexual disfunction with the subjects whose 10 year marriage disintegrates cause she cannot come! Well.. she does get herself mechanised help and promptly gets addicted to it too.. so much that her faithful pager gets into her pants.. vibrator on ofcourse.. :)
Has a massive orgasm while it rings and boy.. does she come..
What a crock..
My poor phone had a teeny dive, was fished out of the water immediately and yet.. died on me..
The phone in the movie survived..
Gotta get that one....Else stop believing.. which I have.
Ah.. have to go buy myself a new phone.. and it hurts.. I loved.. love the one I have.. old faithful.. have dropped it countless times.. yet has survived. Melon and apple did it in.. :(
Hate the fact that I've lost my data though.
No commiserations from anyone.. 'you should have had a backup'.. is all I get.
True though.. I should have a backup.. I guess a backup plan is quintessential.. Maybe for all the awry ideas that flit in and out of my rather muddled head too..
I thrive in the confusion though...
So be it.
Have spent the day without the mobile and fankly have been immobile.. was embarrassing takin it around and explainin to the grinnin technicians about the mishap.
Got my answer to a rather niggling doubt I had yesterday morning though. Watched the movie 'The Oh in OHIO'. The rather sad preoccupation of sexual disfunction with the subjects whose 10 year marriage disintegrates cause she cannot come! Well.. she does get herself mechanised help and promptly gets addicted to it too.. so much that her faithful pager gets into her pants.. vibrator on ofcourse.. :)
Has a massive orgasm while it rings and boy.. does she come..
What a crock..
My poor phone had a teeny dive, was fished out of the water immediately and yet.. died on me..
The phone in the movie survived..
Gotta get that one....Else stop believing.. which I have.
Ah.. have to go buy myself a new phone.. and it hurts.. I loved.. love the one I have.. old faithful.. have dropped it countless times.. yet has survived. Melon and apple did it in.. :(
Hate the fact that I've lost my data though.
No commiserations from anyone.. 'you should have had a backup'.. is all I get.
True though.. I should have a backup.. I guess a backup plan is quintessential.. Maybe for all the awry ideas that flit in and out of my rather muddled head too..
I thrive in the confusion though...
So be it.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Words dont come easy..
Been wanting to write and have written just to erase..
Stumblin over the block... roughed yet grinnin.. one more time here I go... but hey this time no 'morbidity'..
I'm enjoyin the solitude and the sound of my breath.
Have a dozen things I want to do.. but like most of my grand plans.. they may never materialise.
Set up a library at home and in office.. Feels marvellous!! I walk into the house n look at my books.. cannot explain the sense of belonging and oneness and harmony when I look at the much loved titles I have collected over the years.
As a critic of my very own self.. I've pondered about the various strains in my own basic nature and would like to believe that I find joy in giving. I love Gibran's take on giving when he says 'You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.'
Can't think of giving away my books. Went for a dog show 2 months back with the family. Hubby was so enthusiastic and pure virgo male that he is.. doesn't have an affinity for dogs.. didn't take me too long to figure out where the interest lay infact. Had everything to do with the beautiful female owners strutttin with their pets on leash while unleashing carnal desires in every hot blooded male.
Couldn't complain cos you see I had found my place in the unleashing desires forum... an entire area full of second hand books up for sale!! Pretty good ones too.. Would have given the Rottweilers a run for their money at the rate I was salivating.
Dog lovers apparently gave away their books towards canine charity! What a marvellous thought. Lapping up my personal collection with great speed.. and putting them up with great relish on my bookshelf, I mused aloud.. would I give you away my beloved for a cause..?
Still am pondering about it. Idealism would prompt me to say that ofcourse I would.. but my books???? Would I... i dont think I would like be tested.. Discretion is the better part of valor... aint it?
Stumblin over the block... roughed yet grinnin.. one more time here I go... but hey this time no 'morbidity'..
I'm enjoyin the solitude and the sound of my breath.
Have a dozen things I want to do.. but like most of my grand plans.. they may never materialise.
Set up a library at home and in office.. Feels marvellous!! I walk into the house n look at my books.. cannot explain the sense of belonging and oneness and harmony when I look at the much loved titles I have collected over the years.
As a critic of my very own self.. I've pondered about the various strains in my own basic nature and would like to believe that I find joy in giving. I love Gibran's take on giving when he says 'You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.'
Can't think of giving away my books. Went for a dog show 2 months back with the family. Hubby was so enthusiastic and pure virgo male that he is.. doesn't have an affinity for dogs.. didn't take me too long to figure out where the interest lay infact. Had everything to do with the beautiful female owners strutttin with their pets on leash while unleashing carnal desires in every hot blooded male.
Couldn't complain cos you see I had found my place in the unleashing desires forum... an entire area full of second hand books up for sale!! Pretty good ones too.. Would have given the Rottweilers a run for their money at the rate I was salivating.
Dog lovers apparently gave away their books towards canine charity! What a marvellous thought. Lapping up my personal collection with great speed.. and putting them up with great relish on my bookshelf, I mused aloud.. would I give you away my beloved for a cause..?
Still am pondering about it. Idealism would prompt me to say that ofcourse I would.. but my books???? Would I... i dont think I would like be tested.. Discretion is the better part of valor... aint it?
Monday, January 28, 2008
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......
:-)
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......
Saturday, January 26, 2008
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....
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....
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
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... ;-)
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... ;-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)