Thursday, October 29, 2009


last night, my fever hit 104 F, and i don't know if i wanted to die because of the delirium or if it is the delirium that saved me.

but it was crazy. i had to wade through gigabytes of junk in my head, before i could finally "attain" sleep, and before the fever started to go down, at about 4 am. i can't even remember clearly now except that it was all related to words. and i had to connect different words to form a phrase and then the phrase would dissapear. and then i had to move on to the next set of words. and there were thousands of such sets, all in a cloud-like object. and this whole process took like 6 hours!

i could safely describe it as one of the worst nights of my life. much worse than a bad break-up. is there a blog on such delirium in fever experiences?

"Poets Hitchhiking On The Highway"

Of course I tried to tell him
but he cranked his head
without an excuse.
I told him the sky chases
the sun
And he smiled and said:
"What's the use."
I was feeling like a demon
So I said: "But the ocean chases
the fish."
This time he laughed
and said: "Suppose the
strawberry were
pushed into a mountain."
After that I knew the
war was on--
So we fought:
He said: "The apple-cart like a
snaps & splinters
old dutch shoes."
I said: "Lightning will strike the old oak
and free the fumes!"
He said: "Mad street with no name."
I said: "Bald killer! Bald killer! Bald killer!"
He said, getting real mad,
"Firestoves! Gas! Couch!"
I said, only smiling,
"I know God would turn back his head
If I sat quietly and thought."
We ended by melting away,
hating the air!
~Gregory Corso

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Post It #23

Image via laurennicole81

"Making Love"

Why make? I used to wonder.
Is it something you have to keep on
making, like beds or dinner, stir it up

or smooth it down? Sex, I understood,
an easy creaking on the upholstered
springs of a man you meet in passing.

You have sex, you don’t have to make it,
it makes you - rise and fall and rise again,
each time, each man, new. But love?

It could be the name of a faraway
city, end of a tired journey you take
with some husband, your bodies chugging

their way up the mountain, glimpsing
the city lights and thinking, If we can
keep it up, we’ll make Love by morning.

I guess it was fun for somebody,
my grandmother once said. By then
I was safely married and had earned

the right to ask, there in the kitchen
beside the nodding aunts. Her answer
made me sad. In her time, love meant making

babies, and if I had borne twelve
and buried three, I might see my husband
as a gun shooting off inside me, each bullet

another year gone. But sex wasn’t my question.
Love was the ghost whose shape kept
shifting. For us, it did not mean babies,

those plump incarnations the minister
had promised - flesh of our flesh,
our increase. Without them, and twenty years

gone, what have we to show
for the planing and hammering, bone
against bone, chisel and wedge,

the tedious sanding of night
into morning - when we rise, stretch,
shake out the years, lean back,

and see what we’ve made: no ghost,
it’s a house. Sunlight through the window
glazing our faces, patina of dust

on our arms. At every axis, mortise
and tenon couple and hold. Doors
swing heavy on their hinges.
~Rebecca McClanahan

Monday, October 26, 2009

The Relationship

Employees strive to make themselves indispensable to organizations and organizations strive to make employees indispensable.

Ha ha. Stupid.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

"Reports from the Palace"

The abandoned hospital
was a godsend. We are
exhausted, and short on hope.
Dusty coverlets on carefully
made beds stretching
down the many wards.
Those of us with
training in medicine
have been taken aside
and whispered to.
October. No word from you.
The old cities glowing
sickly, remotely, to the east.
Armed guards
around the morphine.
Seasons slowing down.
Two of the scouts
have still not returned.
As yet there have
been no relays from
the south tower.
In the emergency bay
someone has erected
a sculpture fashioned
from used syringes.
The ravaged, upper sections
sealed off. No one allowed
above the third level.
Nightly, a rage of flame
on the horizon. The smell
of temples on fire.
Linen missing. Frost
on a heap of wheelchairs
stacked in the back field.
Another scout gone.
The meeting reset
for tomorrow.
Just before dawn.
All my transmissions
to you coming back
to me, unanswered.
Someone has been
on the roof again.
Footprints. Palmprints.
Evidence of signaling.
~Ian McBryde

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

So what do you do?

a lot of people lately have been asking me, what it is that i do? well -- what i'm doing right now is going with the flow. literally anyway the wind blows

after i left my job (which i miss dearly every now and then), i travelled a bit to australia and japan. then i got back and travelled some more in india -- to ladakh. then i had no more money to travel no more.

in jan i'll be off to go to the netherlands to do a course in astronomy and science based business. why astronomy (and really, not astrology)? because i've been interested in it since i was 13 and i fuck better do it now before i get too old and married and have my babies. i'm not a crazy fanatic star gazer or nothing. i don't even know much about the cosmos or string theory. it's just the limit-less-ness of the subject that interests me -- and it's because i don't know that i want to know. and the business part is just a add on -- i believe i'll meet some interesting people.

you see, over my years of working i decided that i must start something in science education. it's what the world needs. it's what india needs. i've been doing a lot of research and there are millions of oppurtunities. so i latched onto one dream/vision/thing to do (secret dream/vision/thing to do). and i'm going to pursue that dream/vision/thing to do -- but slowly -- and agrressively after i finish my "trip" to the netherlands. 

(i may just run off to africa with henry and teach in liberia and forget the whole dream/vision/thing to do)

love life wise -- i am also going with the flow. there's no point in being betab thinking about the future. when do i get married? who do i marry? do i even want to marry? hasn't the world changed already -- do i even need to marry anymore? -- this peer pressure no! damn.

for now, i wake up in the morning and i start to edit. yup. i'm became my own freelance editor. and i scout around for whatever sort of work. i made a website to sell myself and will collaborate work-wise with my two bestest friends: veena and rucha. i also work on losing weight and go for a swim or a cycle ride in turns. this losing weight i tell you is the most underrated thing. i also cook one meal every two days :) sometimes i burn stuff. sometimes it's excellent. i get the feeling that my dad doesn't like what i make too much.

i spend an insane amount of time on the computer reading all sorts of crap via google reader. i also keep a science blog that i need to make much more interesting. but i need to get out more. sometimes i catch a film. or a play. but not often enough. i had taken a keen interest in photography but that too is dwindling.

my brother, however, has taken over the camera. speaking about chirag, i also spend a lot of time making fun of his phone conversations. he literally has the same conversation with 10 different people every single day. well that's what being 16 is all about i guess. can you believe it! he's already 16. wow.

so yeah, things are good. waiting for jan to come. november is rucha's wedding and niki and arya are gonna also come in november. shreya -- of shreya and kari -- two of my oldest goldest school friends is also getting married in november. so niki and i will go to delhi for that. then there are soo many things to show aarya. then maybe a family trip to goa, and perhaps another type of family trip to bhopal, and then i'm up up and away!

so this is the story of what i do.

love and peace,

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Get out!!!

I really need to get out of the house more. So this is what I've planned for myself these next few days. All company welcome:

Tue, Oct 20: Cello Performance at NCPA (7 PM)
Thu, Oct 22: French Film, The Amazing Truth About Queen Rauela, at Alliance (6:30 PM)
Tue, Oct 27: French Film, Zim and Co, at Alliance (6:30 PM)
Wed, Oct 28: Talk on Dark Matter and Energy at the Nehru Planetarium (5 PM)
Wed, Oct 28: Music, Fredd Massumba, Blue Frog (9:30 PM)


Saturday, October 17, 2009


april was the first time i bought a t-shirt, saying "ok i'm going to lose weight and fit into it" --- usually don't never even bother! and here we are, a few months later --- fitting into it!

thank you niki, really, you are superman!

Thursday, October 15, 2009


koi jo mila tho mujhe aisa lagtha tha jaise meri sari duniya mein
geethon ki ruth aur rangonki barkha hai khushbu ki andhi hai
mahki hui si ab sari fizaenhai bahki hui si ab sari havaen hai
khooi hui si ab sari dishaen hai badli hui si ab sari adaen hai
jaagi umange hai, dhadak raha hai dil sason mein thoofan hai
hoton pe nagmein hai, aankhon mein sapne hai beethe hue sare woh lamhe hai
jab koi aya tha, nazron pe chaya tha dil mein samaya tha, kaise mein
bathaun thumhe kaisa use paya tha pyar se chehre pe bikhri jo
julfe tho aisa lagtha tha jaise kohre ke peeche ek os mein hdula hua
phool khila hai jaise badal mein ek chand chupa hai aur jhank raha hai
jaise raath ke parde mein ek savera hai roshan roshan ankhon mein sapno
ka sagar jisme prem sitharon ki chadar jaise jhalak rahi hai lahron lahron
baath kare tho jaise mothi barse jaise kahiin chandi ki payar goonje jaise
kahi sheeshe ke jaam gire aur chanse toote jaise koi chupke sithar bajae jaise
koi chandni raath mein gaaye jaise koi hole se paas bulae.
kaisi meeti bathein thi woh kaisi mulakhathen thi woh jab maine jana tha
nazron se kaise pigalthe hai dil aur aarzoo pathi hai kaise manzil aur kaise uthar
tha hai chand jameen par kaise kabhi lagtha hai swarg agarhai to bas hai yahin par
usne bathaya mujhe aur samjhaya mujhe hum jo mile hai hum jaise hi milna tha ghul jo
khile hai, unhe jaise hi khilna tha janmon ke bandhan, janmon ke rishthe hai
jab bhi hum janme tho hum yahin milthe hai kanom me mere jaise shahad se
ghulne lage khwabon ki duniya bhi kithni hasin aur kaisi rangi thi khwaobn ki
duniya jo kahne ko thi par kahin bhi nahi thi khwab jo tute mere ankhen jo
khuli meri hosh jo aya mujhe maine dekha maine jaana woh jo kabhi aya tha
nazron pe chayatha dil mein samaya ta jaa bhi chuka hai aur dil mera ab hai
thanha thanha naa tho koi arman hai, naa koi thamanna hai aur naa koi sapna
hai ab jo mere din aur ab jo meri raath hai unmein sirf aansoo hai unme
sirf dard ki ranj ki baathein hai aur faryad hai mera ab koi nahi, mai hoon aur khoe hue
pyaar ki yaadein hai...
 ~Shankar Mahadevan

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The End of the World

When I was really small, I really liked this song:

Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world,
`cause you don't love me anymore?

Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love.

I wake up in the morning and I wonder why ev'rything's the same as it was.
I can't understand, no I can't understand, how life goes on the way it does!

Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said good-bye.
~The Carpenters

Saturday, October 03, 2009


As we boarded the bus
bags on both sides
(I had never packed
two bags before
on a vacation
lasting forever)
the Seattle Times
photographer said
so obediently I smiled
and the caption the next day
Note smiling faces
a lesson to Tokyo.
~Mitsuye Yamada

Post-It #16

Post-It #15

"Little Boxes" made my day

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All go to the university,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
And there's doctors and there's lawyers
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf-course,
And drink their Martini dry,
And they all have pretty children,
And the children go to school.
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
And they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same.

And the boys go into business,
And marry, and raise a family,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
~Malvina Reynolds

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Post-It #14


My sister gets a tattoo
and calls me up to tell me:
Guess what your crazy
spontaneous sister did?
And I say I dunno, got married?
No. Bought a house? No.
She's fifty for god's sake,
who knows, I think, what she'd do?
But, Got a tattoo, she says.
Oh, I say. What do you mean,
Oh! she says. But I think "oh"
is self-evident, so I say
nothing, and she says, I
got a tattoo! So I say, you
got a tattoo! And she says, That's
more like it! A tattoo! And I say
A tattoo! And it goes on like
a military parade. A tattoo!
A tattoo! A tattoo!
~Ronald Wallace

Post-It #13

Post-It #12

Post-It #11

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&...