Flashes of Creativity (adding to the series)

Title:Just an ordinary evening!
Date of Creation :27th March,'05

Tall coffee mugs, a lovely sun set and a dear friend to share an everyday evening on my terrace. You don’t look at the coffee mugs and wonder if the china is good. You don’t look around to scan if the terrace is clean. You don’t even look at what dress your friend is wearing. It is not important that you have a lavish house and lovely garden. It is not important that you have lovely chairs on your terrace. I loiter around with Annie, clicking the setting sun, while she makes faces. We both laugh heartily as she spills some coffee on her pink shirt. Now I wonder if this is not a special coffee, a special setting and a special friend. And see this everyday evening, the seemingly unimportant day of my life becomes so special, so dear.

There is so much that an individual can share with the world. Love, affection, friendship! On many occasions when I came up to watch sunset, I would look at the clouds, the color of the sun splashed across the sky and the glowing orange ball. At times I wrote poetry, at times I sighed in despair and at times I just talked to myself. And surprisingly each time the words that came to me were of love, affection or friendship. Of love, when I came with dreamy eyes as a teenager, of affection when daddy was not well, and of friendship when I could talk to myself about wonderful people who have made a difference in my life.

If I look at it objectively, there is nothing wonderful either about the coffee, the terrace or even Annie. The frappe that I blended in the mixer is just a combination of milk, vanilla ice cream, coffee and sugar. The terrace is an ordinary part of my house where clothes are lined to dry daily. The sun, what about it…. It rises and sets just every single day. And Annie is just another next-door girl who I could have never met. Nothing, nothing at all makes it interesting. But why do I need to look at it objectively. Life is not be looked at, it is supposed to be lived. And when you start living, breathing the fresh air, and feeling good about yourself you find out that each moment is so special.

(This remained unpublished, because it was a part of life, a day in my journal... Hmm.. Annie is however, good at prying, she had read this early on, like she often reads so many of my private things ;-) ... anycase, now that she has little chances of prying... I think I can share her kill with all of you. he he he)

Flashes of creativity

Hello readers,

Hmm, now that the blog has registered 1000 hits (wow), its time to celebrate!!! Well, for the time being lets do with a new post! To be true, I have not written anything today, nevertheless, if you would bear with me, we could celebrate a week long : flashes of creativity. Hmmm...which means , I will be posting my writings of past, which were left in between , incomplete or otherwise.
Feel free to critique.
*************************

Title: No name
Date of Creation: 3rd of Oct '05

She stares out her window to look at the full moon. The moon must bring to her the omen of his coming. She rushes to the mirror hanging on the other end of the room. What splendid beauty does she see in her own reflection. Her doe-like eyes are filled with yearning. Those twin twinkles smeared with kohl grow bigger in anticipation. Her heart flutters, and she knows he will come to her tonight. To take her away with him in his steed.

She runs across the paddy fields, bare feet. Her feet feel light, her hands over her bosom, she keeps running till her heart pounds so loud, that she is out of breath. And she bends down on the river that has been running along with her. And she sees herself. And she sees him leaning over her. Like lightening she turns back to greet him, but he like a playful lover hides himself from her.

She looks for him. Laughing and euphoric. Yes, her love is here. He is here. Only he hides, to tease her. How mischievous he is. He is a rogue. A rascal. Yet so dear. So dear. He beckons her in the water. She walks towards him. The waves splash by her tiny ankles and they grow stronger. She doesn’t know what turmoil lays before her. But why would she care. He is here. Oh! He is here.

(the ending was unsatisfactory...probable reason the short stint of creativity remained short...crap ending was...)
Next morning villagers find a young girl dead by the side of the river. She probably had a moon fever. Roaming around alone on a full moon night and when the waters are high. The devil must have taken her senses away.

Random Thoughts on Friday Night

Warm milk, throbbing ear, silent night and random thoughts...

Cell phone

On Thursday: I get discount on cell battery because the cell phone network isn't working .
On Friday : I put my cell phone for charging --> Though cell phone network has been jammed for two days in a row, it has nicer uses as an alarm clock, reminder and reading old smses.


Milk

Warm milk every night, on my computer table. I drink it sip by sip, careful now in order to prevent, 'milk spill' on my keyboard.
Some people don't drink milk. Linus doesn't. Mumma says, everyone drinks milk here, with a menacing grin (beware Linus).


Writing
I realize I am becoming an editor of some sorts. I censor my own work these days. I fear being interepreted and misinterpreted. I write and then I hit the backspace key. Makes me wonder who am I fearing. My intention to write is simple, I write because I want to. Why does my intent try to accomodate people who will read what I write. Why do I bother how they would interpret things? Hmm... well then I should promise you another post on, 'Perhaps God has a bad handwriting'. In the last post, I left at an ambiguous point, God's handwriting. I was careful not to write more, and not to write less. Not more, for fear that people would try to read in between lines, and not less because then the whole purpose of writing would be defeated. So, on Friday night, I give my self this freedom of expression... lets see what I end up writing.

Smoke
Kathmandu was relatively smoke free today. As in, with curfew on, the automobiles kept twiddling their thumbs in their respective garages. Smoke, makes me think of differnt kinds of smokes"
Black smoke spewed out by a huge Swaraj Majda bus
Thick smoke rising up when they burn tyres on the streets as a gesture of protest and demonstration
White circling smoke coming out of Marlboro Light

Ear ache

I have a throbbing ear ache...

Sleep

I can sleep for more than 1o hours in winters...

breakfast
I am going to make Poha for breakfast tomoro on mumma's demand.

Shopping
Used to be a pleasure activity ... now is work ( i am unemployed and getting married!! )

Books:
TO read.... the list is never ending.......

Next turning point
15th Feb!

So far so good... Time to read something and then off to sleep.

The good old ME

Hi!

I am back. Sorry, the post comes much later than what I had promised. Well, I was down with cough and cold and sitting in sun seemed better option than infront of my pc in my cold room.

It is a thursday night, a regular thursday night. My sister is back to her school, so the other side of my bed is again empty. I am alone in my room. The blower is blowing out hot air, the click clack of my new keyboard is the only dominant sound, and I sit down to write something.

Let me write down things i will never forget from this visit :

• the roses at the airport
• the walk beside the pool at hyatt
• CCD on Saturday
• the coffee
• the pastries
• the chairs
• the cellphone ringing
• the permutation and combination of people together ...
• the beep (alarm started as i was trying to get in with a packet, i needed to deposit it at the security check counter) at shopper's stop and the goodbye
• Bluffmaster
• Harry Potter
• Walking thru Burrabazar's hustle bustle
• Learning how to eat jhaal moori ( you dont bring your mouth to your palm, you just flick the moori to your mouth which is raised 30 degrees upward in anticipation)
• Learning how to create way through the crowded road, swinging hands left and right to protect against being shoved
• Banging on the hood of the car to tell it that, it is you who will move first, this is Burra bazar, kyaa
• Crossing road at park street
• Catching cold in cal
• Checking mail in cal's cyber for the first time, with Sunil
• Realising a week has gone by.... get into the cab and get to airport
• hmm... i will be back soon! Kathmandu to Kolkata!!!!!!! the feeling sinks in.

hmmm... now that was a hodge podge summary.... but i will tell you it was a pleasant trip. No I did not discover anything new. I only met friends, and sat across them and talked to them.

No truths found, only that, God probably doesn't have a good handwriting... :))
But he makes wonderful stories.... someday i might get some capability to write down few things, as nicely as he shows me. Thats all for now... time to sleep.

will be back on 16th

dear readers,

hmm.. vid is out on a trip. this trip is somewhere pretty important...

i will be back on 15th, and log on to read something on 16th of Jan, 2006!

till then,
cheers

vid

morning musings

Philosophy, Life and Marriage

I remember whenever I have been in dilemma I have taken to find an answer in some kind of philosophy. Or rather, by trying to peek into philosophy, of which I little understand, I have attempted to bewilder myself to a separate state than of the bewilderement of dilemma. However, until there is a resolution of dilemma, it is like out of the pan, into the fire place!

The first time I remember I took to philosophy was 4 years ago. As an undergrad student, and a teenager in love. (will not get into the argument or discussion if at all it was love, that for later blogs). However, this person seemed to have a secret love already! So, you see, a teenage damsel in distress reading, Radha Krishna and KrishnaMurthy. At this point, I also got a book, called The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran. Given, the emotional temperament, that girls are besotted with, or by the virtue of being a girl, being sentimental comes first and logical comes next, I was well versed with the prose of Tagore, his love poems, that he writes in the gardener than the basic tenets of philosophy.

Now at this moment of life, I seek philosophy again, not by choice, by an accident (is serenditpity the write word to be used here…). Not that I was not tempted to go back to Tagore and his lovely expressions ( I will post one of his poems, that I like and you will know what I mean by saying the temperament I possess by the virtue of being born as the female of this specie).

Suddenly, I am reminded of my friend who about 4 years ago, in my attempt to learn philosophy (existentialism and metaphysics fundas), had told me, keep philosophy and your personal life distinct, don’t mix them up. Philosophy is a pursuit. It is not to implement in your life. I had agreed to him, and all these years, I have been somewhere forming my own philosophy of life, and being influenced little by others (I attribute this to my ignorance to philosophy, I have not read Kant, a little bit of Russel and I even wont be able to name ten names of philosophers, next to Plato and Socrates..)

My influence in the last two years have been, Al Ries and Jack Trout. Their marketing fundas! Before, I digress, let me come back to Kahlil Gibran. I would like to post a prose of his, from the book the Prophet.

It is on marriage. And here it is.

Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master?
And he answered saying:

You were born together, and together you shall be for evermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces inyour togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love : Let it rather be
A moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each others cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but
Each one of you be alone.
Even as the strings of a lute are alone thought they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can containyour hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.


As always, poetry is also philosophy, and sometimes may be slightly easier to understand.

Now something from Tagore. Before I write it down, let me tell you why I read the gardener, it satisfies, the emotional reader, the emotional writer, the emotional dreamer. Yes, dreamer, somewhere all of us dream, and live in a dreamland, dreams are fed by poetry and not reality. The other day, a friend of mine brought me to stark reality, where a dreamer and a poet has to abandon his literary armaments, and face himself upfront. However, Tagore for now-

I run as a musk deer runs, in the shadows of
the forest mad with his own perfume.
The night is the night of the mid-May ,
the breeze is the breeze f the south.
I lose my way and I wander, I seek what I cannot get,
I get what I do not seek.
From my heart comes out and dances
the image of my own desire.
The gleaming vision flits on.
I try to clasp it firmly, it eludes me and leads me astray.
I seek what I cannot get, I get what I do not seek.

There are more prose I can pick from the Gardener but for now, this will be it. However, there remains a two liner, a work of the National poet of Nepal : which is an implementable philosophy for me :

Aayera kahiley ritu siddhidaina
Layera maya mutu ritti daina

Meaning :
1st line : Seasons do not end, by coming. ( my elaboration : seasons come each year, spring comes each year, it does not end by coming again and again… there is an infinite reservoir that nature has.

2nd line: Your heart doesn’t empty itself by loving ( my elaboration : like the infinite reservoir that nature has, that seasons do not end, this heart also belongs to nature, to GOD, who gives us an infinite capacity to love, love doesn’t stop coming in your heart, just because you have loved)

This post should have been titled, poetry, philosophy, marriage and life!

Situation

The writer is working on her notebook (borrowed notebook). No coffee getting cold. She has sipped warm milk, and nowadays she sips milk slightly away from her desk, lest the white fluid spill all over her desk and specially harm her notebook.

Hmm, the situation is lovely. Finally the plot has thickened. The end has lots of activity. Now, as a writer she broods over the situation with intense contemplation.

half written Dialogs:

white Mouse1 : I am hungry.
white Mouse 2 : It is Monday stupid. Vid doesnt eat biscuits in her bedroom, and the Pringles kaa dibba is empty. Wait till morning.

white mouse1: :O are we in vid's room. I thought Vid hates mouses.
white mouse2: are you mad types. Vid is a dudette. she just hates the wriggle of our tails...well she hates our tails, given our species had a bad shady character in Harrry Potter III, she is sligtly wary of us.

white mouse1: but two mice in her room. it is scary.
white mouse2: who said it is vid's room.
white mouse 1: ??
white mouse 2: vid is in a trap and so are we.... the same trap...

hmm... dialogs end...

what is a trap? trap is not having anything intersting to blog about. Having to read annie's crazy blogs, waking up in the middle of the night...and feeling completely woken up.
who says you need to make sense every time.... I dont make sense now, so ??? (what's new...annie must quip here he he)