Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Writers' Bloc

It is very frustrating when for hours you stare at your computer screen with the 'new post' window open and nothing in your head pouring in.

For over a month I have been going through this dilemma; typing out words and then deleting it. What may be the reason?

Have my thoughts exhausted?

or

Too many thoughts, but no structure to it?


Am I not observing things?

or

Observing too many things, to reflect on?


Am I not spending much time with myself?

or

Spending too much time, to give myself a thought?

I don't know how long would this phase haunt me and I lose all the words to design my wanderings.

Afterall, Writers' Bloc is every writer's fear.




Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Escape

The mind escapes to that time
Where longing was defined by letters
Lovers became poets
and the loved ones, the poem.

The mind escapes to that time
Where pen was mightier than the sword
Handwriting was the identity
and signatures, the final word.

The mind escapes to that time
Where lanterns were the fireflies
Water the Ganges
and the breeze, the fan.

The mind escapes to that time
Where palanquins adorned the streets
Horses caused roars
and steam engines, the smoke.

The mind escapes to that time
Where scriptures were learnt
Books were read
and ink, the source.

Change being constant
Marooned by science
The mind escapes to that time
Where I wish I was ever born.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Lekhani Dekhani

I came across this phrase from a book that I read meaning 'the Readery and Writery'. It was used in reference of a name of an optical shop in a small town in Madhya Pradesh.

Henceforth, I have come up with a new blog of the same name. It is different. It is about my explorations, the books I read, the music I listen to, the plays that I love to attend.

Art and Culture, two words which are synonymous to my identity in the world. I am a maniac. Any play, dance performance, music concert, art exhibitions and bookshop around Pune and Delhi and I try my best to attend it. I find a nostalgic relationship with ancient structures, houses, buildings, antiques, roads, walls, windows, city etc etc etc. I love writing and reading. You would see me sitting in one of my favourite selected corners and reading. I can read anything from fiction to non-fiction, drama to romantic, politics to psychology.

Exploring places also is something I love to do. A day off from college and there I catch a bus and explore one part or the other in Pune. While in Delhi, love to get lost in the busy streets of Old Delhi .

Another interest that I am yet to dwell in more is travelling.I just need a reason to do it, whether alone or in a group.

Thus, the blog is dedicated to my experience, learning and knowledge about my passion and interest. Twenty years on this planet and there have been full of them.

So do check it out...Its the other part of me...

http://lekhanidekhani.blogspot.com/

Saturday, September 25, 2010

I Am...




I am...

A girl:

When I relish a pastry with cream all over my face.

A lady:

When I am working on my laptop with a cup of coffee on my table.

A daughter:

When I want ma to be with me when I am ill.

A sister:

When I get those music band posters printed for my brother.

A mother:

When my best friend doesn't feel like going to college and I have to remind her about the attendance.

A friend:

When I make those 'larger than life' plans with friends which will come true some day.

A lover:

When I fantasize about them.

A Goddess:

When I give all the philosophical and spiritual gyan to others but have no takers for it.

A foe:

When I am mean to people and bitch about them at their back.

A dreamer:

When I think about what all things I have to do in my life and work towards it.

A devil:

When I want something bad to happen to that particular person whom I hate at that point of time.

A princess:

When I have the room to myself at night and I curl up under my thick blanket.

A dancer:

When I am performing in front of an audience and I can hear them applaud.

A singer:

When I am humming a tune of my favourite song.

An artist:

When I am scribbling and drawing random patterns in my notebook while a boring lecture is on.

An actor:

When I feel the need to be accepted and pretend.

I am
MYSELF when all the above exists in me...

When I am complete.

We all play different roles and I am no different.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Riot

Have to go to the library to issue the Herbert Read book...

Need to do the business model assignment...

I want to have chicken...

He is so damn hot...

Why? Why? Why didn't I opt for DU?

Have to buy fruits...

I want money!!!

Ghar jaana hai...

I'm a gypsy...are you coming with me...

Control...Control...Riya control your mouth...

Now what have I done?

Nijey ke niye r paarina...

What is for dinner?

Have to read the newspaper...

Will I ever go to JNU?

Where is Soofi ji heading today?

Why the hell I am so lazy!!!

Fuck!!!I have gained more weight...

Should I go for a haircut?

Rick Castle I love you!!!

Am I really a pseudo?

When is it going to start?

Atelier's fest!!! I so want to attend it...

What is Sheela upto?

Landmark sale...

Bharat bhraman...

Sham bhi koi...jaise hain nadi...

Love the rains...

Riya concentrate...


Riot of thoughts clouding my head...wandering in vacuum..

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Home Sweet Home

It is strange that how we take certain situations and places for granted. They are such an important part of your life but then you don't see it. Home is such a place which comes in this category. One is so secure and comfortable in its confines, that it becomes a way of life. It is when one steps out of its comfort level that one realizes this is the best place that one can ever be.

It is home, where after a long day one can get the best sleep.

It is home, where if ones bored one has thousands of ways to recreate himself/herself.

It is home, where ones tired and needs that one cup of tea to rejuvenate, it is served .

It is home, where when you need people around, mum or dad or sibling are always there to talk to.

It is home, where when hungry at the middle of the night, the kitchen becomes a treasure trove.

It is home, where when you want to eat that one special dish, you don't need to wait for ages to get it.

It is home, where you have two lives- one at home and the other outside home. And they never come together.

It is home, where you don't have to think of washing clothes after a tiring day at work.

It is home, where festivals are celebrated not attended.

It is home, where freedom would at times be limited but never compromised.

It is home, where 24 hrs never seem to reduce to 12 hrs.

It is home, where the mattress is always comfortable and pillows never strain necks.

It is home, where when one is away from it, he/she misses it the most...

Friday, July 30, 2010

The rabbit and the turtle


Once upon a time, there was a rabbit and a turtle. The rabbit was the fastest runner in town. He had won many racing events in his lifetime. On the other hand, the turtle was a lazy, slow runner with no past records. Through test of times, both the animals faced each other and were competing against each other.


Both the rabbit and the turtle took their positions and the referee called out, "On your mark" and whistle. Off the rabbit ran and the tortoise swaggered. The rabbit was consistent in his speed and ran and ran towards the finishing line.


In this course, the turtle suddenly stopped, miles behind the rabbit, trying to catch up breath. The reason? He was waiting for his dad to get the shiny silver spoon with the magical potion of success.


The rabbit upon being only 10 metres away from the finishing line looks back to check the tortoise in any way near to him. But the turtle was no where to be seen. "My win is not far.", he thought and started running faster.



Upon reaching the finishing line with his eyes closed, he exclaimed, "Yes! I am the champion." But then, as he came face to face with reality, he realised that there was no rope when he crossed the line , the referee is nowhere to be seen. Then his eyes spotted a crowd cheering, jumping and yelling, "Hip Hip Hurray!". He walked towards the mob and saw the tortoise standing in the 1st position with the cup in his hand and the silver spoon in his mouth. The rabbit disheartened, left.

Moral: And still we think, 'slow and steady wins the race.'

Saturday, July 24, 2010

The Perfect Night

There are certain days(rather nights) when you just let go off the present situation and relax. For me tonight is the time. Caught in a "fragile" web of competition and surfing every possible information on the internet in pursuit to keep up with fellow 'specialisation' mates, tonight I let go off all these inhibitions.

The monsoon rains pouring outside. Alone in the room. Soft music playing in the background. The dim light of the lamp sets the perfect mood for this special evening. My Jane Eyre is half-open, waiting to be read. The movie that I just enjoyed watching was brilliant. Thinking of how times change but in all this evolutionary events, I am the constant factor.

The song in the background talks about this distant star which shines alone in the night sky and grabs all the attention. The singer is mesmerized and jealous, at the same time and asks the star how can it steal the night's beauty and take all the pride? I wish I could describe the smile that I have on my face listening to it. I never enjoyed the song at other times, but at this point the lyrics are beautiful.

The classic I am reading took an adverse turn. I so wanted Jane and Mr. Rochester to get married and live happily ever after like the Grimm's fairy tales. But then it is more close to real life. Jane is standing at the crossroads of her life unknowing what the future has in store for her.

Finally, I don't know why I am writing this post. The flickering blue light of the laptop urged me to write something and I typed the words. Also, my friend exclaimed today of how I lack the avidity of a writer as I don't write about anything and everything. As other reality bites, even this remark hurts.

All said and done. It's a perfect candid night with a complete mood mutation.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Rock Paper Scissors...Situation IX

The game has taken a complete twist...One of the elements is no more an inseperable part of the two...It can exist isolated (but its not the other way round)...But the show must go on...The thumb clicks are made and situation still shouts "Rock Paper Scissors CUT" and a score is made.

Rock
Metamorphosed to a new being.

Paper
Accepted the new scribbles. But still views them as errors.

Scissors
Sharpening it's reach.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Artistes, Creators

What is in an artiste's mind
No one ever knows.

Why Picasso's cubes
or
Matisse's sunlight?

Why Hussain's horses
or
Raza's patterns?

Why Kahlo's self-portraits
or
Shergill's women?

The oceans of fantasy
The sea of inspiration
The spray of colours
The love for women

What is in it's creator's mind
No one ever knows.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Nostalgia Re-visited

Four years. It had been after four years that I visited the place where I have spent the most beautiful moments of my life. Re-visited those avenues that were an important part of my childhood.

Nothing has changed. Except my childhood friends are older and (im)mature.

Nothing has changed. Except this time,we didn't play Hide & Seek or talk about our school homework.

Nothing has changed. Except a mall has come up in place of the huge abandoned mill that always was a sight of darkness and gloom.

Nothing has changed. Except the unknown additions in my small group of friends.

Nothing has changed. Except the fact that I have CHANGED.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

As I see the sun setting...

O setting sun,
How has your day been?
Do you like the mountains or the seas?
Do you like the stars or the creatures down below?

How is it?
When the moon takes your glory at night?
When you hide in the hills and we search your light?

I become prudent
Seeing you hide behind the faraway mountains
Enjoying the cool breeze that welcomes the night.
Wonder why I like darkness?
Wonder why I want to hide in your veil?


O setting sun
Tell me all about yourself
As I sit , ready to give my ear to you

O setting sun,
Please tell me
How has your day been?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Nostalgia Re-visited

Walking down the memory lane with my dslr and childhood friends. Kolkata, where I have my childhood preserved, this ones for you...


The window to the city blurred by the summer rain...

The much awaited rains...



The sun rising from its tallest towers...


The Victoria Album

the morning Victoria



the British pride...


The Queen's pride...








Her Victoria...


pherari mon...



the lover's Victoria...






The City
It still stands tall...


the morning roads...


the bhad cha


the big yellow taxi...


an artists' anonymity...


banglar pran...


Banglar maan...



city food..


Ray's Calcutta...


Mahanagar...



time never changes...


Intellect never changes...


the old New Empire...


The only change...


the only change....


the old New Market...









Bangla heritage...





its the same...


the treasure house...





O Ganga behti ho kyun?




Tagore's Bangla...


Sonar Bangla...