Wednesday, December 31, 2008


sometimes you can't wait for inspiration to complete things that you really want to complete. even if it means forcing yourself. even if you hate forcing yourself.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

"Kaise Mujhe"



Kaise mujhe tum mil gayi
Kismet pe aaye na yaqeen
Utar aayee jheel mein
Jaise chaand utarta hai kabhi
Houle houle dheere se

Gunguni dhoop ki tarah se tarang mein tum
Chooke mujhe guzri ho yun
Dekhoon tumhe ya main sunoo
Tum ho sukoon tum ho junoon
Kyun pahle na aayeen tum
Kaise mujhe tum mil gayi
Kismet pe aye na yaqeen


Main to ye sochta tha ki aaj kal
Upar waale ko fursat nahi
Phir bhi tumhe banake woh
Meri nazar mein chadh gaya
Rutbe mein woh aur badh gaya


Badale raaste jharne aur nadi badale reet ki tim tim
Chhedhe zindagi dhool koi nahi badale barkha ki rim jhim
Badalegi rituen ada
Par main rahoongi sada
Usi tarah teri bahon mein bahen daalke
Har lamha har pal


Zindagi sitar ho gayi
Rim jhim malhar ho gayi
Mujhe aata nahi
Kismet pe apne yaqeen…..yaqeen
Kaise mujhko mil gayi tum

Monday, December 29, 2008

"Where Lesbians Come From"

It is true that lesbians do not have families;
we have pretend family relationships.
We do not have mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters;
our sons and daughters do not count at all,
having no families within which to rear them.
And our lovers - there's nothing in that
but something mocking truth;
for you know it's true
that lesbians do not have families, like you...

We emerge, instead, complete from some dark shell,
beds and beds of us (like oysters,
what else would I mean?)
sea-born on stormy nights
with the wind in a certain quarter.
We rise and wiggle, all slippery and secret,
curling and stretching and glad to be alive,
untangling our hair from the wind and salt and seaweed.
We steal clothes from washing lines,
and once it's daylight, almost pass for human.

Glowing into warmth in the sun or a hard north wind
we lick the salt from our lips,
for now. And smile.
We live for a while, in the light,
despite your brutal laws
and your wish that we were not here;
we return to our beds by moonlight
to nurture and foster the sweet salt shells
that give birth to our lesbian futures.
And there we plot, in our dark sea beds,
the seduction of your daughters.

~Jan Sellers

happy new year!

Saturday, December 27, 2008

"No Longer a Teenager"

my daughter, who turns twenty tomorrow,
has become truly independent.
she doesn't need her father to help her
deal with the bureaucracies of school,
hmo's, insurance, the dmv.
she is quite capable of handling
landlords, bosses, and auto repair shops.
also boyfriends and roommates.
and her mother.

frankly it's been a big relief.
the teenage years were often stressful.
sometimes, though, i feel a little useless.

but when she drove down from northern California
to visit us for a couple of days,
she came through the door with the biggest, warmest hug in the world for me.
and when we all went out for lunch,
she said, affecting a little girl's voice,
"i'm going to sit next to my daddy,"
and she did, and slid over close to me
so i could put my arm around her shoulder
until the food arrived

i've been keeping busy since she's been gone,
mainly with my teaching and writing,
a little travel connected with both,
but i realized now how long it had been
since i had felt deep emotion.

when she left i said, simply,
"i love you,"
and she replied, quietly,
"i love you too."
you know it isn't always easy for
a twenty-year-old to say that;
it isn't always easy for a father.

literature and opera are full of
characters who die for love:
i stay alive for her.

Gerald Locklin

Monday, December 22, 2008


commitment phobic
no time
under confident
don't want to bother with hardwork
can't imagine future
no real skills to contribute

(were there no heroes who charged at them not really caring about their own life? only happens in movies?)

what about education?
i think we can map out the decision making tree of our entire governance system
plug leek by leek
redefine. reinvent.
this system has been around for only 60 odd years, who said we can't change it.
change it completely.
as they all say -- slowly but surely.

i think the logical path to take is
1. learn about the governance system in all countries of the world
2. define what works for India
3. start making it happen (the smaller things can start in the meantime

"By Small and Small: Midnight to Four A.M."

For eleven years I have regretted it,
regretted that I did not do what
I wanted to do as I sat there those
four hours watching her die. I wanted
to crawl in among the machinery
and hold her in my arms, knowing
the elementary, leftover bit of her
mind would dimly recognize it was me
carrying her to where she was going.

Jack Gilbert

Friday, December 19, 2008


this is what it is like to fight with everyone you know.
and this is what it is like to fight with everyone you love.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

up down up down

It's never beyond repair. That's the one thing i can safely say about friendship.. It's never beyond repair. Marriages can go beyond repair, because a marriage by definition requires that you like and love the person your spouse becomes with time. You are expected to expend a lot of time with this new person (that your spouse may grow to become). This expectation becomes stifling and leads to irrepairability. But the whole beauty about friendship is this process of growth in a person. Your friends are people you choose as friends because you want to see them grow. As people, as individuals, as a parent, as a grandparent. It's a willing arrangement that you have gotten into. And the best part is that you don't have to be with them all the time. It's a demand-supply relationship, isn't it?

~Veena (Reference)

sadly, only two-dimensional

i like the idea that the earth is alive.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Where is Gandhi?

With all this talk about war on Pakistan, I’m wondering if the people of Mumbai have forgotten the merits of non-violence. For me, living in urban Mumbai, it’s hard to imagine that 100 years ago in India there was bloodshed all over. Or that World War I was just some 80 years ago. Or just 20 years ago there was blood spewing out of Liberia.

It is difficult to believe how easy it is to forget.

But it is also wonderful that I’m not plagued with any form of hatred for any community – not the British who killed our forefathers and played a role in dividing our country, not the East Germans for god knows how many atrocities Hitler committed against the Jews, and certainly not the folks over in Ivory Coast, although Liberia is still in a bad state:

It’s not Mumbai that is resilient, or New York: It is humans that are. The basic philosophy of why blame others for crimes their nation or ancestors committed is correct. And let us clarify once and for all: MUSLIMS NOT EQUAL TO PAKISTANIS NOT EQUAL TO TERRORISTS.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying let Pakistan go scot-free if they (or militant groups residing therein) have indeed engineered the attack (which I believe they have – I don’t think the BJP or Raj are intelligent or ruthless or stupid enough to engineer such an attack). But before launching into an America-style war, weigh all the available options very carefully.

Being an apathetic soul largely unaware of history, the only thing I have been able to gather is that as individuals no one really likes violence, but as a group, as a herd, violence seems to be a natural instinct. So I urge the people of Mumbai and the government to please first educate yourself on the criticism that America received before launching into war. Make a list of all the available options and then one by one see what can be done causing minimum deaths.

I’m going to end here as I don’t have enough knowledge to say any more. Just that let us try and minimize the loss of life in our crusade against terror.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

who cares

i've really never cared much about society
really i haven't
not through any of the terror over the years
it's a complete "whatever" attitude
about terror
about politics
about society
i never want to take a stand
i always want to build my own little world
with my own little morals
and my own little values
and live there
but not this past week
this past week i feel my thoughts changing
is it time to transform again?
to really draw


Sharad had one:
The maximum age of a PM should be 50-55 years.
Reason: To run a country, you need to make decisions looking at a 20 year horizon.
However, at 70, the next 20 years does not really include you. So you can't really make decisions for a future that you are not going to be a part of. That is, as humans, it is difficult for us to imagine things for others, irrespective of intention.
Most of the politicians in our country today are above 70.

One real question I want to ask is, right now, most of the youth are pretty charged.
So what's the next step for the pretty charged youth?
I think this Wednesday meet, or whichever meet, should be run by someone who can provide those what-next answers. Instead of us "exclaiming solidarity" and "condemning terror," tell us, how can we offer our brains and hands and legs to changing the situation, before it all dies out once again, and the fucked up cycle resumes?

Today Sharad has suggestions and would ideally like to change the country some time in the future. But today he is busy concentrating on business. By the time he is 45 and able is he still going to be interested in politics, or is that interest going to die? Who knows.

Are there any 45 year old's out there who were once filled with much passion and wisdom, but chose to apply it to business, and are now settled enough to give politics a shot? Are there? Are there? Those are the people we have to find, and awaken. Those are our future leaders. Those and us, as a team.

Saturday, November 29, 2008


who are the investigators in our country?


they keep calling this India's largest terrorist attack.
Hello, anyone remember the 200 people who died two years ago?

I don't know how much candle lighting is going to help.
Was this true?

Who to ask?

Friday, November 28, 2008

blood and shed

The state in Mumbai these past two days has been rather bleak.
For one I'm afraid that if Mom, Dad, and Chirag have to stay in that house for any longer without going out, they will end up killing each other!

Jokes apart, my thoughts:

1. The government needs to collaborate with other countries to figure out where all in the world similar attacks have taken place. It is probably the same group, or the same groups have trained these guys.

2. Regarding the train blasts, or the Malegaon ones, the public is still largely unaware about why that happened. What was the purpose, what was done to resolve the situation?

3. Politics needs to be kept out of this shit, and probably the armed forces need to take up this task.

4. Foreign intelligence should be pulled in if we don't have the know-how -- if we do, then not necessary.

But certainly, the government should make every effort to uncover this this time. To the death of it, and not wait to arrest people 10 to 15 years later and think they have done a great thing.

I also think that they should start taking the help of the common man more.
All these hostages, foreign and Indian, need to be debriefed for any and all clues about the militants, before they are sent into happiness to their respective homes.

Enough of CSI, Mumbai!


Friday, November 14, 2008

(on competition) note to a

you should step into our shoes
to know and feel what it is like
(maybe you already know)
trying to keep half your life away
from people
you are sharing your one whole life with

my hip and my lung
as my mother puts it

to see anger on their faces on some days
and happiness on others
and not know what it is about
(both ways)

(to not share some of the greatest things you have done)
(to not let them be proud of you)
(both ways)

sometimes to see them only on weekends (or in midsleep)
(when you live with them)
and not know what it is about
(both ways)

don't be overly hateful and harm yourself by
questioning loyalty
questioning good common sense
that they have shown for so many years
or help them understand you
by citing examples
so they truly understand
and not hate themselves and hate you

of course they are loyal
they chose didn't they?
trust, shouldn't you?
not use strangers as pawns to question?

also, don't deprive us of
knowledge sharing
to a limited extent, really it's not
going to do you any harm
or me
one world, one life, one city, one
market, one house, one common interest

allow me to share with my friends
my own experiences and hardships
so when they take on greater roles
they can handle it with a calm
that i never could

they have been there for me
for the toughest work period of my life
don't deprive me of
being there for them

be bigger, stronger, fitter, happier
or you'll do more harm than good

this is friendly advice


“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities,
in the expert’s mind there are few.”
~Shunryu Suzuki


Monday, November 10, 2008


You've got me girl on the run around run around
You've got me all around town
You've got me girl on the run around
And its getting me down, getting me down
Lady if you want to find a lover
Then you look no further
For I'm gonna be your only
Searching at the start of the season
And my only reason
Is that i'll get to you
I'll find some way of connection
Hiding my intention
Then i'll move up close to you
I'll use you and i'll confuse you
And then i'll lose you
Still you wont suspect me
~Roxy Music

(thanks nash)
(and thanks nash)

Friday, November 07, 2008

"it's pure physics love"

i have finally understood
from your
perspective why we
can't be together
it took me long
but i understood

know that i love you
to death
and there will always
and i will always
think of you
with a certain fondness
with simplicity

i like you
irrespective of loving you
i like you
the person you are
the things you stand for
your passion
the way you look at things
and care for them

how you try to consider
1001 variables
to be constant
to always be constant

it's pure physics love
it's pure physics, love
love, it's pure physics
physics? it's pure love

v, this is for you

Thursday, November 06, 2008

for v and s

We are not enemies, but friends...though passion may have
strained it must not break our bonds of affection.


Wednesday, November 05, 2008

mungies in lungies


[[Coming Next]]
> Band T-Shirts (painted by Rucha)
> New Release "T-Shirt Star" - for nash and diti, featuring lyrics by vv
> "Minutes of despair" and "Almighty Dollar," featuring lyrics by athiran

Thursday, October 30, 2008

more e.e.cummings

for prelude see most_people

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new


may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)


(once like a spark)

if strangers meet
life begins-
not poor not rich
(only aware)
kind neither
nor cruel
(only complete)
i not not you
not possible;
only truthful
if strangers(who
deep our most are

(and so to dark)


since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

and death i think is no parenthesis


nothing false and possible is love
(who's imagined,therefore is limitless)
love's to giving as to keeping's give;
as yes is to if,love is to yes

must's a schoolroom in the month of may:
life's the deathboard where all now turns when
(love's a universe beyond obey
or command,reality or un-)

proudly depths above why's first because
(faith's last doubt and humbly heights below)
kneeling,we-true lovers-pray that us
will ourselves continue to outgrow

all whose mosts if you have known and i've
only we our least begin to guess

Friday, October 24, 2008


Dear Mama,

Thank you for all the things you have taught me: especially how to cook,
and iron clothes, and make the bed, and clean the
toilets, and scrub dirty pots with tamarind

I especially appreciate that I was allowed to break
without being made to feel like I committed some sin
as long as I cleaned it up

Today, I'm not afraid of getting my hands dirty
because of you

As ever,

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

"Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale"

Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life's ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.

~Dan Albergotti

little book of leadership

Chelsea Hotel #2

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed,
while the limousines wait in the street.
Those were the reasons and that was New York,
we were running for the money and the flesh.
And that was called love for the workers in song
probably still is for those of them left.
Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
you just turned your back on the crowd,
you got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
you were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you preferred handsome men
but for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
we are ugly but we have the music."

And then you got away, didn't you babe...

I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
I can't keep track of each fallen robin.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
that's all, I don't even think of you that often.

~Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

exit music (for a film)

Wake... from your sleep
The drying of your tears
Today.. we escape
We escape.

Pack and get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before.. all hell.. breaks loose.

Breathe... keep breathing
Don't lose.. your nerve.
Breathe... keep breathing
I can't do this.. alone.

Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill
Such a chill.

You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one
In everlasting peace

We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke


crayon physics deluxe

(thanks nash)

wordle: a sweet application

Friday, October 10, 2008


You will see him light a cigarette
At the hail door careless, leaning his back
Against the wall, or telling some new joke
To a friend, or looking out into the secret night.

But always his eyes turn
To the dance floor and the girls drifting like flowers
Before the music that tears
Slowly in his mind an old wound open.

His red sunburnt face and hairy hands
Were not made for dancing or love-making
But rather the earth wave breaking
To the plough, crops slow-growing in his mind.

He has no girl to run her fingers through
His sandy hair, and giggle at his side
When Sunday couples walk. Instead
He has his awkward hopes, his envious dreams to yarn to.

But ah in harvest watch him
Forking stooks, effortless and strong -
Or listening like a lover to the song
Clear, without fault, of a new tractor engine.

~James K. Baxter

Tuesday, October 07, 2008


in my imagination
love used to be very simple
rather textbook
everything i imagined about love was from poetry, the movies, the books
i never cared to listen to first hand experiences
and even if i did bother listening, i would only pick up and remember the parts that were in sync with my imagination

there is nothing practical about love
there should never be anything practical about love
not the kind of love i've imagined

growing up and some relationships later have thoroughly confused me

yes i've felt crazy passionate
and yes i care more than anything
and yes i've written poems
been inspired
let go
closed up
but i've always wanted more


maybe it's the kind of person i am. the always wanting more type.
it's like the whole god experience all over again
god, and wishes, and elves

(you know, i believed in everything till age 8 -- and then one by one -- every damn thing was shattered -- no faraway tree in the world of practicality)

so now i sit here, wondering
o fuck, jaya, is it god all over again?
was cora right before she met the rrrs of her life?
is this too a manifestation of society
for some sort of ego-stroking
for a feeling of security

i need to think more about this
i need to experience more about this
certainly not read more about this

(note to readers: i'm not talking about friend love, parent love, teacher love, boss love, etc. the topic of this post is only crazy sex crazy limits love.)

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The Leadership Challenge

  1. Model the way
  2. Inspire a shared vision
  3. Challenge the process
  4. Enable others to act
  5. Encourage the heart
By Kouses & Posner

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Hey there Delilah

Hey there Delilah
What's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away
But girl, tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Times Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear it's true

Hey there Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it's my disguise
I'm by your side

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
What you do to me

Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me, girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame

Hey there Delilah
You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You'll know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here's to you
This one's for you

Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
Oh it's what you do to me
What you do to me.

~Plain White T's

Saturday, September 27, 2008

"Failing and Falling"

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end, or the marriage fails and people say they knew it was a mistake, that everybody said it would never work. That she was old enough to know better. But anything worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back through the hot stony field after swimming, the sea light behind her and the huge sky on the other side of that. Listened to her while we ate lunch. How can they say the marriage failed? Like the people who came back from Provence (when it was Provence) and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell, but just coming to the end of his triumph.

Jack Gilbert

please see my lovelies

antiflutter meets ditikotecha

Sunday, September 21, 2008

(no images on this post: designyatra2008)

There were a great many dutch designers this year at design yatra, both good and bad. Their design is fresh and witty, although the lack of cultural variety was felt towards the end of the three days.

*****Paula Scher, Pentagram
Her philosophy is simple, and it stole the show; especially since the audience was filled with a number of heart-e designers.
Specializing in type, Paula seemed like the Madonna of design - as diverse, versatile, creative, and uninhibited. Although they work with mostly small and medium size companies, Paula also spoke about the Citigroup identity, where the logo was designed at the initial meeting, but it took 1.5 years for the group to sign off on it.

You'll need browse through their website to get the full feel of their work, especially look out for the type.

<>Richard Bullock, 180 Amsterdam
I don't think this guy spoke.

**Paul Belford, This is Real Art
The most strange name for a company, their work is pretty interesting. Paul mainly touched upon the perspectives of design and advertising and advertising and design through two interesting videos
(for veena) Paul Rand
(for for) Helmut Krone (video unavailable, but it was really nice)

***Eric Scott, Saffron
Not dwelling too much into the Indian Connection with the name Saffron, Eric is an unassuming man with great presentation skills.

****Tirso Frances, Dietwee
He was a cutee. I couldn't find an English version of their website, so we'll just have to make do with this one. Look out for the annual reports.

****Kenya Hara, Nippon Design Cetner
The only speaker to hold 20 sheets and read from it presenting this amazing work, my heart really went out to Kenya-san. He presented on not things that are there, but things that happen: haptic, senseware, emptiness. Inspirational work.

*****Erik Kessels, KesselsKramer
I loved his humor, especially with the Hans Brinker hotel campaign.

I didn't find their website, but I highly recommend their 2 Kilo book
They also have an interesting series of books called "In almost every picture."
They pick up abandoned photographs from flea markets (the owners are usually dead) and tell a story of sweet lives -- -- Go to Catalouge.

****Nicolas Roope, Poke
See the neverending website for Orange
See Warholizer

(See Also Simpsonize me)

*****Tyler Brule, Monoocle and Winkreative
The first speaker at the event, I liked him.
His work speaks for himself. Explore all.

****Patrick Burgoyne, Creative Review
The last speaker of the event, he spoke about the main theme, "Convergence":
convergence of language (e.g.,, convergence of style ( He also spoke about the fluidity of design and the relationship between author and audience, brand and consumer.
(Also see God's Eye View)

****Jeroen Van Erp, Fabrique
Again couldn't find an English website, but I liked their work too.
He spoke mainly about thinking and doing, and how in design there are endless opportunities and endless possibilities. The sweetest story he told was about this complicated remote (much like all the remotes we use). So his dad is getting a bit old, and a bit blind, and kept getting confused with all the different options on the modern day remote control. What his mom did was scotch tape out all the buttons except for the main numbers, channel up and down, volume, and power. The point being with so much focus on usability, simplicity should be a big part of it.
(See Stephan Sagmeister, Raymond Lowey, Marc Newson, Wat Was Waar)

Among the Indian designers, we had:
*Ashish & Ashwini, Elephant Design
Terrible presentation, too terrible to look at the work. They repeated the word "convergence" 300 times in the presentation, and didn't showcase their work enough as make it an HR initiative to recruit talent.

**Preeti Vyas, Vyas Giannetti Creative
Ok. Not too inspiring. She did say she was a middle child (note to pass on to Rebecca)

***Harsh Purohit, Cognito
He spoke about "sustainability". Overall made the point by showing some nice videos (like George Carlin's Saving the Planet), but his start lacked context

(I really recommend the above designers visit to understand the impact of design in presentation as well.)

*****Rajesh Dahiya, CoDesign
Inspiring work and presentation. True and solid guy. Parag even gave him a standing ovation.

Observations, quotes, notes, and to-do's
  • Most gripping presentations were those with a story, and a personal beginning
  • There is no convention in design, no guidelines, no rules (just space, colour, and type)
  • Learn more about Japanese design
  • New is not doing something new that everyone is doing, but in creating or inventing something new
  • Try and collect all the doodles drawn during designyatra (or tell kyoorius
  • Take a series of ear lobes
  • Take a series of people peeing (face shots)
  • Open a chain of hotels across India, called "Budget"
  • 4 Ps of sustainability: profit, protest, policy, preservation
  • The planet is fine, the people are fucked
  • Teach India article usage (veena?)
  • Integrate story telling into work
  • Google should give up on Picassa
  • Scientists are designers too
  • Get into Science Education in a big way within the next five years
  • Design: makes strategy tangible, makes stories visible, creates meaning, creates interactions, evokes emotion
  • Designers are: futurists, concept thinkers, philosophers, entrepreneurs, business creators, networkers

Thursday, September 18, 2008


The second-hardest thing I have to do is not be longing's slave.

Hell is that. Hell is that, others, having a job, and not having a job. Hell is thinking continually of those who were truly great.

Hell is the moment you realize that you were ignorant of the fact, when it was true, that you were not yet ruined by desire.

The kind of music I want to continue hearing after I am dead is the kind that makes me think I will be capable of hearing it then.

There is music in Hell. Wind of desolation! It blows past the egg-eyed statues. The canopic jars are full of secrets.

The wind blows through me. I open my mouth to speak.

I recite the list of people I have copulated with. It does not take long. I say the names of my imaginary children. I call out four-syllable words beginning with B. This is how I stay alive.

Beelzebub. Brachiosaur. Bubble-headed. I don't know how I stay alive. What I do know is that there is a light, far above us, that goes out when we die,

and that in Hell there is a gray tulip that grows without any sun. It reminds me of everything I failed at,

and I water it carefully. It is all I have to remind me of you.

Sarah Manguso

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Raphael Alejandro D'Souza (name subject to change)

there on september eight
with six point one seven pounds of weight
a little red, a little brown
all smiles, and no frown
came raphael alejandro d'souza
the new boy in town

(congratulations ash&len)

Tuesday, September 09, 2008


Today I am fragile
insane and full of purpose.

I'm thinking of my lover:
my soft hips pressing his coarse belly,
my tongue on a salmon nipple,
his hand buried in my thick orange hair
the telephone ringing.

I'm thinking we tend our illnesses
as if they are our children:
demanding attention and twenty dollar bills,
hours we could have spent making love with the television on.

Faith is a series of calculations
made by an idiot savant.
I'm in love.
I'm alone
in this city of painted boxes
stacked like alphabet blocks
spelling nothing.

There are things I know:
trees don't sing
birds don't sprout leaves
roses bloom because that's what roses do,
whether we write poems for them
or not.

I concentrate on small things:
ivy threaded through chain link,
giveaway kittens huddled in a soggy cardboard box,
a fat man blowing a harmonica
through a beard of rusty wires
brown birds chattering furiously on power lines.

I try not to think about
lung cancer, AIDS,
the chemicals in the rain;
things I can't imagine any more than
a color I've never seen.

My heart is graffiti on the side of a subway train,
a shadow on the wall made by a child.
Nothing has been fair since my first skinned knee

I believe death
must be.

I cling to love as if it were an answer.
I go on buying eggs and bread,
boots and corsets,
knowing I'll burn out before the sun.

I'm thinking of
the days I tried to stay awake
while the billboards and TV ads
for condoms, microwave brownies, and dietetic jello
lulled me to sleep.

A brown-eyed girl once told me a secret
that should have blown this city
into a mass of unconnected atoms
Our sewage is piped to the sea.
Beggars in the street
are hated for having the nerve
to die in public.

Charity requires paperwork,
Relief requires medication

as if we were the afterthoughts of institutions
greater than our rage.

Gravity chains us to the asphalt with such grace
we think it is kind.

We all go on buying lottery tickets
Diet Coke and toothpaste
as if the sky over our heads
were the roof of a guilded cage.

We provide evidence that we were here:

initials cut into cracked vinyl bus seats,
into trees growing from squares
of concrete,
a name left on a stone, an office building,
a flower, a disease, a museum,
a child.
Tonight the stars glitter like rhinestones
on a black suede glove.

In the coffin my room has become,
I talk to God
about the infrequency of rain
about people who can't see the current gentleness
running under the pale crust of my skin.

I tell him under
the jackhammer crack, the diesel truck rumble,
even the clicking sound traffic lights make
switching from yellow to red,
there is a silence
every song,
every whisper made beside graves
or in the twisted white sheets of love.

I tell him I can't fill it
with dark wine, blue pills,
a pink candle lit at the altar
the lover
touching my hair.
God doesn't answer.
God doesn't know our names.

He's only the architect
designing the places we occupy
like high rise offices or ant hills

I know this
the way I know
sunrise and sunset
are caused by the endless turning
of the Earth.

Maura O'Connor

Sunday, September 07, 2008


i noticed today
that i keep looping
it's either the middle
or a loop
never a complete circle
or the end of a line
it's either the middle
or a loop

Thursday, August 28, 2008


tender is the night
lying by your side
tender is the touch
of someone that you love too much
tender is the day
the demons go away
lord i need to find
someone who can heal my mind

come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
that we have
i’m waiting for that feeling
i’m waiting for that feeling
waiting for that feeling to come

oh my baby
oh my baby
oh why
oh my

tender is the ghost
the ghost i love the most
hiding from the sun
waiting for the night to come
tender is my heart
for screwing up my life
lord i need to find
someone who can heal my mind

come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
that we have
i’m waiting for that feeling
i’m waiting for that feeling
waiting for that feeling to come

oh my baby
oh my baby
oh why
oh my

come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
that we have
i’m waiting for that feeling
i’m waiting for that feeling
waiting for that feeling to come

oh my baby
oh my baby
oh why
oh my

tender is the night
lying by your side
tender is the touch
of someone that you love too much
tender is my heart you know
for screwing up my life
oh lord i need to find
someone who can heal my mind

come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
come on, come on, come on
get through it
come on, come on, come on
loves the greatest thing
that we have
i’m waiting for that feeling
i’m waiting for that feeling
waiting for that feeling to come

oh my baby
oh my baby
oh why
oh my


Wednesday, August 20, 2008


i often want to know if you love(d) me
not fervor or ardor or obsession
but a deeper more cavernous emotion
a numbness felt for merely 33 seconds

you, you and you

if you ever felt my gaze pierce your heart
the way i have felt your gaze pierce mine
it's a frightening feeling
and i wonder if you have ever felt it too
even if for 33 seconds

you, you and you


The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink.

- George Orwell

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

"I got stuck in a ditch today"

(after our argument)
i feel like i'm not a real person anymore
no real thoughts
no real feelings
no real opinions
no (even) real talents
just imagination and perception

"double often"

you don't know it yet
even the crown of your head
makes me want to turn
and look and look and look at your picture

familiar but unfamiliar
known but unknown
corny but uncorny

you don't know it yet
because even i don't know it yet
but i think about it
sometimes, often, double often

smile or retreat
jump or freeze
sigh or pounce

you don't know it yet

Saturday, August 09, 2008

Friday, August 08, 2008


you only love me in theory
standard love
accompanied by 3 thrills and 40 frills

Friday, August 01, 2008

"True Love"

True love. Is it normal
is it serious, is it practical?
What does the world get from two people
who exist in a world of their own?

Placed on the same pedestal for no good reason,
drawn randomly from millions but convinced
it had to happen this way - in reward for what?
For nothing.
The light descends from nowhere.
Why on these two and not on others?
Doesn't this outrage justice? Yes it does.
Doesn't it disrupt our painstakingly erected principles,
and cast the moral from the peak? Yes on both accounts.

Look at the happy couple.
Couldn't they at least try to hide it,
fake a little depression for their friends' sake?
Listen to them laughing - it's an insult.
The language they use - deceptively clear.
And their little celebrations, rituals,
the elaborate mutual routines -
it's obviously a plot behind the human race's back!

It's hard even to guess how far things might go
if people start to follow their example.
What could religion and poetry count on?
What would be remembered? What renounced?
Who'd want to stay within bounds?

True love. Is it really necessary?
Tact and common sense tell us to pass over it in silence,
like a scandal in Life's highest circles.
Perfectly good children are born without its help.
It couldn't populate the planet in a million years,
it comes along so rarely.

Let the people who never find true love
keep saying that there's no such thing.

Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

Wislawa Szymborska


we are. so here. so there.

i went to zenzi last night, after what seemed like some eons.
to hear nikhil sing.
i've never missed nash and diti more in my life.
never ever.
i really feel like nash and dits are mine.
(and i do want to remain theirs)

in my ever so drunken but happy state, i really started thinking about all my friends
(the place was bubbling with people right from colaba - xaviers - old work - new work -- so many people!)

there are some friends that you really liked but grow so far apart from that you don't know how to recover it (e.g., son and dex)
while there are some that become a taken-for-granted always there and perhaps will be there for life kind of scene (e.g., veena and rucha)
there are some new friends (who are really friends by default) that you want to take your time to get to know (e.g., avadhut)
there are some friends, who you think things will never be the same again with because you were careless and stupid, and your usual non-consequence thinker self (e.g., sarin)
and then there are the old hang out friends who you spent a lot of time with during some event or the other but don't really know what to say when you meet after seven years (e.g., neesa)
then there are colleagues who occasionally double on friends (e.g., sharad and snigdha)
then there are some friends who change so radically that you hardly recognize them anymore except for the occasional streak of comminality (e.g., anchit)
and there are some timeless friends, who appear in your life every now and then, with a bottle of wine, and a chat gets you by for the next couple of years (e.g., chitra and cora)
and then there is dan and sam. who are a different kind of friend altogether.

(i'm sure there are many other kinds of friends that i've missed out also -- but know that the love is there)

Thursday, July 03, 2008

is the success of a company measured by how much money it makes or how happy the people are inside it?

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

after thought

it upsets me that the only person i want to impress anymore is myself


well, it's not the big that eat the small, it's the fast that eat the slow

now, i want out of this scary and creepy world as fast as possible
not so that i can eat the slow
but so i don't rot from the inside

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

"Love song of a mad girl"

(click above for acknowledgement)
it comes rushing up
like hot screaming boiling tea
no, something stronger
like vodka... hot, screaming, boiling
and it stays at that deafening pitch
for days and days on end
it threatens to but does not burst
it hovers just above my skin
burning, burning
how it burns
and it stays there for what seems like ever
and i cannot move, cannot talk, cannot think
of anything
but the burning

then, pop
and it is gone
all at once
suddenly cold
and raging cold sweats
and suddenly cold is like heat
but worse much much worse
it plunges your body
into a profound loneliness
away alone afar
drifting on a sea of ice
rocking and rolling from the weight of
your regrets

and on and on
it stays this way
my life is this way
i tried to explain it to you
do you see now how it is?
i am a mad girl
not silly
all consumingly maddened by
and now

take it as a compliment
if you can
for it is
it is
in some mad way
that i will try to explain
like this

when it burns
i see you burn
when it is cold
i see you cold
like repels like
but we are
you and i
and that will
bond us
for eternity

and mad girls like me
we can survive
on these bonds
on these intangibles
that others forget

mad girls like me
because this is our
of true love.

Monday, June 02, 2008

(for the singa in vee)

i don't know you
but i want you
all the more for that
words fall through me
and always fool me
and i can't react
and games that never amount
to more than they're meant
will play themselves out

take this sinking boat and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
you've made it now

falling slowly, eyes that know me
and i can't go back
moods that take me and erase me
and i'm painted black
you have suffered enough
and warred with yourself
it's time that you won

take this sinking boat and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
you've made it now

take this sinking boat and point it home
we've still got time
raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
you've made it now
falling slowly sing your melody
i'll sing along
~Once Soundtrack

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

stay hungry. stay foolish

Thank you Veena; it's very reassuring.

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

Monday, May 26, 2008


when i look at you, and those big white teeth
i don't wish that you would call me pretty
i don't wish that you would read my smile
or understand my tears
(i do wish, but it's not essential)
i do wish for blind faith
the kind of faith that is untiring
that which does not tire

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

how it ends

the problem with me is that when i'm anxious or disturbed
it's a violent physical reaction
volcanoes in my belly

hold your grandmother's bible to your breast
gonna put it to the test
you want it to be blessed
and in your heart
you know it to be true
you know what you gotta do
they all depend on you

and you already know
yeah, you already know how this will end

there is no escape
from the slave-catchers' songs
for all of the loved ones gone
forever's not so long
and in your soul
they poked a million holes
but you never lettem show
c'mon it's time to go

already know
yeah, you already know
how this will end

now you've seen his face
and you know that there's a place
in the sun
for all that you've done
for you and your children
no longer shall you need
you always wanted to believe
just ask and you'll receive
beyond your wildest dreams

already know
yeah, you already know
how this will end

you already know (you already know)
you already know (you already know)
you already love will end


Wednesday, May 14, 2008

A Girl in Port

let fall your soft and swaying skirt
let fall your shoes, let fall your shirt
i'm not the lady killing sort
enough to hurt, a girl in port

marie's gone blonde, and lost a stone
she lay on her lawn, spun and alone
and when the morning sun it rose
upon marie in her lacy clothes
it lit her up, and she walked around
the winding streets of camden town
she don't know who, she wants to be
and if i knew, i'd tell marie

let fall your soft and swaying skirt
let fall your shoes, let fall your shirt
i'm not the lady killing sort
enough to hurt, a girl in port

and cindy tells me she's had fun
sitting backstage, someone's plus one
up in her room the records spin
needle in the grooves that she's worn thin
she lifts a sleeve and she sees a name
and she's got a smile on her face
and she's got a story you can't see
that's just between that name and cindy

and before holly made her way
over the sea and far away
she's telling me, inside her car
driving us back from the crystal corner bar
"i lost it there, i fell from health
cut some fresh pieces from myself
and for a second, something in me
said, 'leave today. it's time, holly.'

it's time

well, i'm a weak and lonely sort
though i'm not sailing just for sport
i've come to feel, out on the sea
these urgent lives press against me
i'm just a guest, i'm not a part
with my tender head, with my easy heart
these several years out on the sea
have made me empty, cold, and clear
pour yourself into me

let fall your soft and swaying skirt
let fall your shoes, let fall your shirt
i'm not the lady killing sort
enough to hurt, a girl in port

Okkervil River

Thursday, May 08, 2008

people like puzzles
that's all there is to it

no need for nasties

Friday, April 25, 2008


I look across the table and think
(fiery with love)
Ask me, go on, ask me
to do something impossible,
something freakishly useless,
something unimaginable and inimitable

Like making a finger break into blossom
or walking for half an hour in twenty minutes
or remembering tomorrow.

I will you to ask it.
But all you say is
Will you give me a cigarette?
And I smile and,
returning to the marvelous world
of possibility
I give you one
with a hand that trembles
with a human trembling.
~Norman MacCaig

Monday, April 07, 2008


i usually use this blog to log new giant events in my life.
yesterday's event didn't seem so big and giant to me until it arrived

my brand new chevy:

Friday, April 04, 2008


there was a cat
who had a spat
with my hand

and when that cat
stopped dashing around like that
i missed her and missed her and missed her

no, this is not supposed to be a poem

Thursday, March 27, 2008

this is such a cool age to be
for all of us

i really thought 26 would suck as hell

Thursday, March 20, 2008

part-time lover, full time friend

You're a part time lover and a full time friend
The monkey on you're back is the latest trend
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Here is the church and here is the steeple
We sure are cute for two ugly people
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

The pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive me
So why can't, you forgive me?
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

I will find my nitch in your car
With my mp3 DVD rumple-packed guitar
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Du du du du du du dudu
Du du du du du du dudu
Du du du du du du dudu du

Up up down down left right left right B A start
Just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

You are always trying to keep it real
I'm in love with how you feel
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

We both have shiny happy fits of rage
You want more fans, I want more stage
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Don Quixote was a steel driving man
My name is Adam I'm your biggest fan
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Squinched up your face and did a dance
You shook a little turd out of the bottom of your pants
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Du du du du du du dudu
Du du du du du du dudu
Du du du du du du dudu du
But you

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

ode to v.v.

If I was a flower growing wild and free
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.
And if I was a tree growing tall and greeen
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves

If I was a flower growing wild and free
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.
And if I was a tree growing tall and greeen
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves

All I want is you, will you be my bride
Take me by the hand and stand by my side
All I want is you, will you stay with me?
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were a river in the mountains tall,
The rumble of your water would be my call.
If you were the winter, I know I'd be the snow
Just as long as you were with me, let the cold winds blow

All I want is you, will you be my bride
Take me by the hand and stand by my side
All I want is you, will you stay with me?
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were a wink, I'd be a nod
If you were a seed, well I'd be a pod.
If you were the floor, I'd wanna be the rug
And if you were a kiss, I know I'd be a hug

All I want is you, will you be my bride
Take me by the hand and stand by my side
All I want is you, will you stay with me?
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.

If you were the wood, I'd be the fire.
If you were the love, I'd be the desire.
If you were a castle, I'd be your moat,
And if you were an ocean, I'd learn to float.

All I want is you, will you be my bride
Take me by the hand and stand by my side
All I want is you, will you stay with me?
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.
Barry Louis Polisar

Saturday, March 15, 2008


Longing, we say, because desire is full of endless distances.
- Robert Haas, Meditations at Lagunitas.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Detroit Blues

i feel terribly bad for people who click decent enough photographs -- but have the most fucked up captions

Monday, March 10, 2008

Poem (for Ema)

though i do wonder
why you intrigue me
i recognize that an exceptional moth
is always drawn
to an exceptional flame

you're not at all what you appear
to be
though not so very different

i've not learned
the acceptable way of saying
you fascinate me
i've not even learned
how to say i like you
without frightening people

sometimes i see things
that aren't really there
like warmth and kindness
when people are mean
but sometimes i see things
like fear and want to sooth it
or fatigue and want to share it
or love and want to receive it

is that weird
you think everyone is weird
though you're not really hypocritical
you just practice not being
what you want to be
and fail to understand
how others would dare
to be otherwise
that's weird to me

flames don't flicker
and moths are born to be burned

it's an unusual way
to start a friendship
but nothing lasts forever

Nikki Giovanni

Saturday, March 08, 2008

another postcard, another song

when someone says they miss you in the most earnest way
you can't help but feel all the love again
and melt just a little bit

(i miss you too anch)

Saturday, February 16, 2008


Ev'ry night, I hope and pray
A dream lover will come my way
A girl to hold in my arms
And know the magic of her charms

Because I want a girl
To call my own
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone

Dream lover, where are you
With a love oh so true
And a hand that I can hold
To feel you near when I grow old?

(Repeat chorus)

Someday--I don't know how
I hope you'll hear my please
Some way--I don't know how
She'll bring her love to me

Dream lover, until then
I'll go to sleep and dream again
That's the only thing to do
Until my lover's dreams come true

(Repeat chorus)

The irony of the relationship between technology and idleness

One of the purposes of everyday technology (mobiles, laptops, etc.) is to make us more efficient. But we rarely use our 'freed up&...