Hourglass

Once upon a time in the future (part II)

2010-04-15T00:50:00.000-07:00

The year...is not important. The time... is monumental. Memories of the night are among the first I can recall vividly. Things were rolling into motion for the worst much before I remember. We only lacked the foresight to see this eventuality....

Life is lonely. I breathe in a time when the definition of life has ceased to be of any significance. I wake up everyday, drenched in sweat, with the same dream- It's pitch black. There is a thunderous roar in the sky. The skies light up obscure faces below, all expectantly facing up with open mouths, begging for water. There is no rain. It gets dark again. I hear the rain. I see sparkling rain droplets in the sky, but they don't reach the ground. I see ropes dangling from the sky, people hung by the neck from the ends. There's a blinding streak of lightning. A baby cry. The sky is clear. It's pouring rain.

I'm startled from my sleep. The cat clutching on to my leg scrambles and dashes for the window. Stranger cat. It's 7:55 AM. I wake up at the same time, same place everyday. I have had the dream again. I sit up on the bed damp with warm sweat. I shiver awkwardly ; it's the chill crawling through me. I shake it off, jump off the bed and stroll to the bathroom. I had managed to recycle 6.354 litres of water. Time for the prized shower. The next shower is scheduled for a date exactly 128 days later, god willing. The sensation of water on the skin serves as nostalgia. 170 years ago, showers could readily be arranged for. There was ample water to take 2 showers, sometimes even upto 5 showers, a day. The smell of the body after the shower gathers hope for me. This smell is only one of the many things that is on the brink of extinction. There's a grotesque body odor everywhere today amongst others; that due to the lingering smell generated by the breakdown of apocrine sweat by a grossly mutated form of staphylococcus epidermis, and the scarcity of clean water. Whatever purified water is availabe is routed to the diet; the diet mostly of the elite. People of godforasken land has learnt to embrace this fate and many such others. That is because it's all a manifestation of their cumulative undoing. I take one last sniff of my body before my clothes spoiled the smell. I sit down to eat 'the meal'- a few crumbs of bread, 9 bean seeds, 17 grams of 'meat'(textured vegetable protein/ soy protein) and one glass of water. Since the 'golden days'( A period 200 years ago) sky high costs of food have restricted 92% of the population to one meal a day. I'm about to cringe at the thought of the day ahead when my cell phone beats rhythmically for approximately the duration of a news bulletin. The screen is crammed with information-1289 txt messages, 89 voice messages, and over 800 missed call alerts. I scroll through the voice messages, and screech to a halt at Dr. Rozario. The content of the message is a massive breakthrough. I put on my goggles, my gas mask, and I check my watch which is in working order, by virtue of the flaring solar energy, before I step into the smog.....

to be continued....

Once upon a time in the future (part I)

2010-04-06T02:23:00.000-07:00

Eyes flutter open. Pitch black. A lazy drift of wind makes way through the window, but dissapears in haste. I try to retrieve what time, date and place it is. My cell phone beeps. The screen flashes a wink of 'el lumbre'. It warns- battery low. Now I know I'm in my bedroom. It's midnight. The same midnight, same place, same life. Almost a Deja Vu.

The heat is unbearable. The occasional heimlich-charity-breeze-maneuver prevents me from choking from the heat. Attempting to fall back to sleep is 'mission impossible' re-defined. Counting sheep isn't an option.(The creative portion of my brain draws up a deadly association between wool and heat). I try counting polar bears. Can't, I'm still bothered by the fur! I give up. Time for brainstorming! Read a book? ; But which? The Bangla novel I read halfway through? Any of the three other English novels I read to varying page numbers? None. It had slipped my mind that 'el lumbre'-the elusive blessing- was missing. I devise a plan B- listen to the radio on my cell phone? Curiosity gets the better of me, and I wonder if the radio stations have a power cut too. The wondrous brain has a rebuttal- even if they did have power your cell phone's battery is dry. Plan C-Make for the kitchen, and find something to snack up on with whatever light is at your disposal. Plan C in effect. As I scan through the freezer all I could interest my taste budswith is some kebab with a cold glass of Ayran(a yogurt based beverage, popular in Albania, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Bosnia, Bulgaria, Greece, Iran, Iraq, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Lebanon, Syria, Turkey and other parts of the Balkans, the Middle East, and Central Asia.)

I whisk the kebab and the yogurt out of the fridge and rehearse the steps of making the ayran:

Pour the yogurt in a medium mixing bowl
Using the electric beater, blender or whisk, beat the yogurt until it is completely smooth.
Add in the water one-half cup at a time, beating it into the yogurt after each addition
When all the water is added in, continue beating for one minute. The surface of the ayran should be a bit bubbly
Add salt to taste, beating the salt into the mixture.
Add mint to taste, beating it into the mixture to release its flavor.

Ahh..mmm. The thought bubble in my head already has me sipping and savoring every bit of the Ayran. I'm through step 1, and 2(had to go with the whisk), and then I gleefully greet everything in the freezer to take 'cold water' out tonight. After ransacking the fridge and the freezer, first patiently and then gradually more frantically, for a good few minutes, the closest thing I find is a bottle of ketchup. No problemo. I check the jug- it's dry! I check every other container for water- dry! I resort to the faucet-it's dry! With utter frustration I divert my attention to the kebabs. I poke a lit match at the stove repeatedly.Voila-nothing! Murphy's law or Karma?

I'm crotchety. My life path number says so. But things are happening on a big scale now, so I can't give the credit to my life path number for feeling the way I'm feeling by now. My cell phone is dead. No power, no water, no gas. No, we're not at war. We haven't been hit by missiles, or mortars, or RPG's, or anything the military might use to bring about this outcome. No, we're not reeling from any devastating calamity, or such. We haven't been hit by cyclones, or droughts, or floods, or anything nature might use to bring about this outcome.....

What if?

2010-03-28T03:26:00.000-07:00

Benson & Hedges: Don't let your worries kill you like Ben's son in the hedges! Smoke your way out...

Camel: Ride the camel through the worrystorms. Rescues you from the desert of worries!

Dunhill: Not climbing the Dunhill may cause fatal worry cancer! Smoke to the peak.

Gold leaf: You're special. You're not smoking tobacco, you're smoking your worries away!

You could smoke away your worries? Every time you winced and wrinkled your face to yank smoke into your lungs, you could inevitably spit out into the world fumes of your cancerous worries? Every fag end you stubbed meant you whipped the butt of a band of unruly worries? Hahah! You could hear the strangled shrieks of your ashen faced worries resonating from the pit of the ashtray?

Initially, I would frantically huff and puff, dance, and fire gunshots into the skies-Arab style! I would lie on the ground, arms and legs sprawled, smoking Hookah. I would smoke a Havana and tickle Benjamin Netanyahu. I would take hits from weed joints and sing parodies of Kawali songs. I would do a voodoo dance and blow smokes on a grumpy Sumo Wrestler's face. With a big grin on my face and smoke billowing from my mouth and nostrils, I would shoot at 'ugly' politicians with a water shot gun.

What after the initial frenzy?
A mob chasing me. Benjamin Netanyahu threatening to put me on a cigarette ban forever; Mossad could surely make that happen regardless of whichever place of the earth I inhabited! Kawali singers yelling abusive songs at me. The Sumo wrestler swearing to crush my bones once he got hold of me. The politicians, teary eyed, swearing in their abusive local dialects (more worries for me because I'd need a translator to figure what they were actually threatening me with!)
And I run, run- big strides, hopping, leaping, skidding- taking ever big puffs of smoke, and blowing smoke every time I turned around to see my chasers. Then I bump into a sign post reading ' Have you angered passive smokers today? Don't worry, treat them to our finest brands of worry alleviating cigarettes from the nearest vending machine!'

I'm about to buy an assortment of cigarettes, to pacify the mob, when I suddenly hear 'Wait! Hey you shameless smoker man! You're deadmeat! Did you know that research suggests passive smoking poses as much a risk of removing worries as does active smoking?'
' What's the worry then, why're you chasing me?' I scream back.
By now they've caught up with me. It's a dangerous stand off. I'm smoking ever quick!
'You've ruined it all you...you..crazy addicted smoker guy! Reduced worry, reduced performance!' a politician man lambasts. The Kawali singer man steps up and asserts himself ' Do you even have the slightest idea about performance anxiety! Arousal can be enhanced by anxiety and therefore heightens the degrees of sensitivity and imagination. In other words, it is helpful and necessary to perform tasks more efficiently. '

Performance! Pffttt... I bail myself out saying I'd smoke 'blanks' only in the presence of others(How could I stop smoking altogether? My worries are the kind that stamp the neural circuits of anything remotely similar to 'performance' ). I swear at that by the cigarette clamped out of shape by my frightened lips.

'Phew, that was close' I tell myself. I fish a smoke out of the pack, and something catches my eye: Smoking can cause heart stroke. That gives me the goose-pimples. I feel my face. Thank god! None on my face! I wonder why we don't have those on our faces, but my thought is displaced soon... I turn the pack every way around to find the 'promising label' but to no avail. I light the fag and take a strong drag. I'm spinning in a bubble of worries... The smoke I exhale is pervaded by the thought: What if you could smoke your worries away? ( A voice inside me says- Yeah yeah bonehead, you would display worry-labelled bottles, stuffed with ashes from every cigarette you smoked, in some Musee de Extinct Worries..Hahah.)

silent reflections...

2010-03-09T00:30:00.000-08:00

Thoughts cram for space in my mind. Happens so often, so spontaneously, of it's own accord. Maybe it happens to others too, I'm not sure. Mine are about right and wrong, just and unjust, true and false, and to-do or not-to-do. Are they little sequences of silent revolutions? I'm not sure. They say everything happens for a purpose. Whether the purpose is for you to comprehend or not isn't for you to decide I suppose. Am I right now? Maybe there's good in that. But the moment I say 'maybe there isn't', I'm actually talking about this word discovered as 'controversy'. Where there's a choice there's a controversy. Isn't that so? We might be slaves of one choice or another, groups of believers of one thing or the other. But then again choice makes us human. At the same time not making the right choice can make you inhuman; animal is the word right?

Contradiction. The best of all species -humans- judging those of it's own kind, among themselves. Some will always judge and some will always be judged. Do you know any better? Every act of good and bad-what are they for? Who are they for? Selfishness. The happiest of mankind is he who can claim he doesn't know of selfishness. He who has never been subjected to it. Can man be truly selfless? If true exists that is. Every act of good and bad- manifestations of one's effort to be selfish. Is it not? Who am I to judge? I'm only entitled to an opinion.

I'm only human. Is it when you know this, when you fail to understand any of this, when your mind goes static, that you conclude- You can go only so far as your legs can take you. As for he who has no legs you don't know where he can venture. It's only one opinion which is blurred in a continuum of right and wrong. Right? Wrong?

Confessions?

2010-01-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

Confessions, confessions that are virgin, pious, immaculate
There's none other than you, you were, you are, you will be
Faith, trust- can they be written in indelible ink?
Promised in the mosques, churches, and temples?
Confessions that this is it
Confessions that the past is a sea of mistakes
Confessions that the past is nothing but time that's withered away-old, frail and lost
Truth or deception?- Mere words and emotions; do you need to know which is which?
Laughter or tears?- Double standards- Mysterious cloaks of happiness and sorrow
That what is stained- Can you wash away in the holiest of intentions?
Confession of love, confessions of trust, confessions of a desperate desire
A priceless gift of an irreplaceable heart for you, and what not
Haven't you given away the same gift a million times over, to a million souls?
Haven't you confessed a million times over?
That musical soiree of yours- hasn't it blessed or cursed the lives of so many more?
Mere confessions; treachery it is in disguise or is it otherwise?
Faith I have in you- though it's only the unseen.
Faith it is, only, in your confessions- of love, trust and a desperate desire.

Blanc

2009-12-24T03:03:00.000-08:00

Oh did you hear the night whispering about the dark?
Oh did you hear the leaves shushing the wind?
The dark grass bends and sways to greet the passing waters.
Grass O lovely grass, sing and play, as that what smiles a vague smile to you waves you a greeting or a farewell; that which weaves a new story for you every new second.
Lay there O watching bird in the womb of the wise tree; don't you talk to the grass, don't you hum to it when it craddles the baby dew drops.
Oh did you hear the cricket longing for it's mate, crying far away into the blossoming wind?
Oh did you hear the woes of the charming flowers tucked amidst the shadows of the moon?
Speak to the darkness O merciful, toss forth a glimmer of your preciousness
Swim, swat your tail-left and right-dance the belly dancers dance O tiny fish
Write a story of your passing moments, your embraces with newer worlds
as you course through blank ink, through an unseen, unheard, unwritten story
Oh did you hear the wolves crying, lonliness clamoring in their cries?
Oh did you hear the winds howl, tinge of curiosity in its voice?
Bark O thunder, let the sprinkles of rain pacify you.
Let the rain answer the monotonous praying of the forlorn toad..
Wash away everything O rain, gather the past in your arms and wade forth..
Return again only with glad tidings; when the flowers ask for you with sprawled arms- to douse their happiness...

A magical night

2009-12-02T08:09:00.001-08:00

Streaks of silver descend to illuminate the waters below.
The enigmatic waters giggle playfully,
riding shyly on the back of timid ripples.
The pearls hugging the ocean’s heart awaken from their deep sleep,
now dancing elegantly with every beat.
The accursed moon brushes aside every passing tuft of cloud stealing a fleeting glimpse of the breathtaking beauty below.
The ocean prays for respite from the prying eyes in the skies,
Whispers a gentle breeze, hums an intoxicating tune.
Love glazed rose-petals dance, twirl, and kiss the quivering lips of the moon and the ocean.
The skies and the stars witness an unprecedented affair- two souls in courtship.
What magnificence; everything between the heavens and the earth transmute into an ethereal beauty.
The admirer tumbles in drunkenness yet gazes upon in an unbreakable gaze,
It beseeches the skies to set it free; to unite with its love for once truly.
The ocean breathes in haste-what turmoil in the depth of those waters.
Misty eyes cast a glance above with the restless yearning to hold the beloved silver.
The moon speaks; spells its heart’s desire across silver linings from a million miles,
Draws closer the inevitable into a musk smothered embrace
A blissful world it slides unto, resting on a tussock of silken pillow, dreaming a dream, smiling a smile,
As the ocean watches lovingly, dreaming a dream, smiling a smile.

unlovable

2009-10-24T10:30:00.001-07:00

Don’t want anything you have for me
Blow me away, gently or harshly as you desire
I’m tired of every breath and all about it
Have I not had enough? Not enough?
I’m weary, in tatters, only crumbs and dust
Let me sink in my loneliness, let me be the loner..
Let me once again get lost in the mist..
It’s better that way; I have nothing but my loneliness to accompany me
Further away from your yelling, from my madness
I’m tired of arguing in life, tired of looking for hope
What, where, why- they don’t bother me anymore
For I want peace, tucked away from this ugly cacophony
Do me a favor, let me live, let be breathe
Push me away, gently or harshly as you desire
It was only a consoling illusion…it was only a lie
It was hope
You, yes you will never know me,
You will never see anymore then what others have seen..
Don’t you bother, have we not all had enough?
It’s eccentricity I have, always will…
Don’t tell me you don’t have any of it
Can’t take any of this anymore
Can you?
Ask me not for another step
Ask me not for another grip
I’m crippled, weak and weary, in shambles
I’m the culprit
If you call it a disease, you’re right
If you call it madness, you’re right again
If you call it sickness, you’re right once more
Don’t want you to care or love,
I don’t know what they are for me
Know anyone that is unlovable?
None other than me…

We fashion savvy?

2009-09-28T09:02:00.001-07:00

‘You are what you wear’. The statement packs quite a punch; attention to the least of the fashion inclined lot. No, this is no marketing ploy. Don’t get me wrong. Look at it from the sociological, philosophical, materialistic point of view and any other way that you desire but what you wear, and more importantly how you wear it may and will dictate the way you define yourself, or let others draw an impression of you. Let’s address the audience with a loudspeaker here that ‘fashion’ has not been able to carve a position and maintain its presence in our country in any way that would flip the switches of the limelight in our direction. We are prejudiced against fashion. Can we come up with any more extraordinarily convincing reasons to the contrary? I’ll bet my new Armani suit-No!

As the clock ticks the concept of fashion metamorphoses like the many faces do in one of Michael Jackson’s video songs dating back to the 90’s - black or white to be precise. Time has been the most outrageously significant parameter for the ever changing faces of how people would like to see themselves as a reflection to themselves, and of course in others’ eyes. So, time prompts me once more to have a little chitter-chatter on how my clothes and yours may weave any magic into our day to day lives.

“She is wearing white pants”. It compliments her perfectly; an all-dignified and appropriate look. Not screaming for attention nor stopping you from reluctantly blurting out- “Gee, that’s one nice pair of pants!” Or maybe, “She looks stunning”. Don’t we so often end up saying something like this? I doubt it if you didn’t want to wear the attire to express your personality, a constant assurance of comfort for yourself in that environment in your office, at that wedding party, for that date, for that party, for that casual walk, and maybe even for that snooze! Trust me you are no less aware then me of the fact that the right clothes, more importantly the right combination, could always give you the upper hand in your every day affairs. It may come off as shallow but the propagated reality is that your clothes, and your art of putting it into place paints a significant image of your personality in people’s minds. Remember every time you meet someone new, your particular sense of clothing, your hairstyle, or rather your fashion-sense gives away more about you then you can imagine. Now to be honest what we have certainly been able to achieve is to mimic the fashion-sense depicted to us via satellite TV. But then again we fall short when it comes to pulling off what we really see. We pay very little attention to the image we’re portraying of ourselves when we’re duped into thinking that we’re so looking like that certain celebrity who landed on our TV screen the other day. Fashion tips are always simple as A,B,C. Find something that you’re comfortable with first, then make sure it complements your physique and skin tone, and yes of course something that will pronounce your individuality.
Fashion in Bangladesh has never caused a stir. The prophets of fashion being few and far apart and our projection of ourselves left to its own devices, driving us in to choosing, picking and putting on, and mistakenly flaunting anything and everything that decently covers the skin.

Here’s a frail fashion-life-line for our ailing fashion trends. Aarong, Kay Kraft, Shada Kalo, Cats eye, Ecstasy, Anjans, Soul dance, and a host of other names. Brands, yes, the Kelvin Kleins, Armanis, Lacostes, Tommy Helfeigers, Guccis of our country! These I should say are filling in an otherwise void in our ‘fashion world’. An ardent supporter of constructive criticism won’t be shy to mention that ‘fashion sense’ in our country is still at its budding stages.
Unlike the neighboring Bollywood our entertainment industry has been a circus to date. So, all apologies accepted for the sloppy fashion sense out there. With Bollwood dictating our fashion tastes we are plunging into a fuzzy territory.. We do not for once think what would actually make us look good. On the contrary we think we have to conform to something that is being fed to us. With the relentless efforts of the advocates of fashion in our country the process is indeed gaining pace. So, let’s go out there, do some thinking and create a new sense of fashion; one that defines the true beauty inside us. Fashion not only to transform you into a world of glitz and glamour. Fashion not to give you the illusion of becoming someone else. But fashion to blend the values of your culture and heritage. Fashion to set the nation into a majestic art.

A pharmaceutical love potion!

2009-09-28T08:51:00.009-07:00

A fragrance, that when possesed, will bring love and adulation to its owner. That’s what Jean -Baptiste Grenouille obsessively sought to achieve in the movie ‘Perfume’ based on Patrick Suskinds best selling novel of the same title. Straying away a trifle from Patrick suskinds character set your imagination free and think of a potion that could give you that edge, to bring you that much craved love from the special one you fancy. That must sound a little awkward to all those down-to-earth-will-you-stop-that-nonsense kind of people out there. But, in truth, secretly deep down don't we terribly wish that 'love' worked for us. That, our other half, imaginary or not, wanted us like mad? Veterans of a lengthy version of the 'love experience' will lazily think something of a form that might sound like this: Of course, even a love fever that's healthily shared recedes eventually, for even a fever is only a fleeting response to an infection from love. Or, how about those who're so fanatically obsessed with this someone, so overwhelmed by it, rightly or wrongly so, that telling such a lover that it's time to knock it off can be futile--as futile as admonishing a drunk to put a cork in it’s bottle! Love has ruled in the past, the present, in music, poetry, paintings, philosophy and religion, sculptor and literature. Psychology has also attempted to unearth the essence of love, just like what anthropology, neuroscience and many more have also done to it.

What is love? It is one of 'the most' murky areas for mankind to explore. Centuries have passed by, relationships have bloomed and so has love. But no one can crack the mystery of love. To some Love is a roller-coaster ride, to others it’s a blazing friendship, for others, Maybe love is like lottery. You might just be lucky to find it. Some may go to great lengths to hail love in ways only more discernible to those who have experienced it- who can claim to be a part of this elite feeling.
A dreamy, peaceful and tranquil world beholds me...the soft soothing touch of a sudden gentle breeze lifts my love spoilt heart and sends it into a joyful swing..
A million crystal baby drops of rain face me, kiss me, tingle me, as I wink upwards into the vast expanse of the majestic skies...
I lay, in a rain washed boulevard, draped in a satin shroud of a cool, delicate, feathery feeling...yet insatiable… the desire for something..
The desire for oneness with you......
Poets would have us believe that love is one of those things that is beyond comprehension. For those of you perplexed by love's elusiveness, take heart: Science is on the case. Scientists say love can be explained by a chain of neurochemical reactions in specific brain areas. That ought to be riveting! Does that-- does that mean-- We could perhaps finally hope to bid ‘aurevoir’ to our misery of not being able to make it 'click'. Nor will we any longer have to rely on oysters or chocolates to create a loving mood! Instead, it will be possible for scientists to develop aphrodisiacs - chemicals that would make people fall in love with the first person they see, or rather the first person they want to see. And for those who have fallen in love with someone they shouldn't have fallen in love with, an antidote to this love. But even if researchers fancy ‘wheelbarrowing’ love to the lab, will they be able to bottle it? Scientists say, there are hundreds of signaling molecules in the brain - they all play in different brain areas. They believe a greater understanding of how all these chemicals interact and act in specific brain areas that have specific functions that give rise to these complex emotions will be achieved once they’re studied more intensely. Researchers have found that oxytocin, a hormone, is involved in the bonding of male and the female prairie voles, which like humans, form an intense bond with each other that lasts for a very long time. And there have been studies in humans that show that oxytocin increases trust between couples. So, it makes sense that the same sort of molecule might be involved in strengthening the bond between individuals. Well but still that doesn’t equip us with a full understanding of what love is. And there are other chemicals involved too - it is just a matter of delving into it and finding out which ones they are. It is also known that Oxytocin increases eye gaze, increases our ability to recognize emotions in others. It may actually enhance our ability to form relationships, and so it is a very real possibility that something like oxytocin could be used with marital therapies to bring back that magic. There are already existing perfumes on the market containing oxytocin, but the levels are far too low for it to be an effective aphrodisiac. But researchers think in the future they can develop drugs that readily pass into the brain and can target certain brain areas that could accomplish this. It will become increasingly possible to manipulate the neurological mechanisms that play a role in creating the emotional bonds between people. Used constructively such interaction between man and drugs could enhance human experience and provide respite from unnecessary suffering.
However, this kind of juggling within science would raise a thicket of ethical and cultural issues, which would need to be carefully considered. The ‘computations’ required to manipulate love, right now, are not feasible enough to shuttle it to us in pills. Therefore, don’t hurry to your pharmacist: No not Yet...However for those of you who got your hopes very high here's some consolation- All you have to do is walk into a bar and get drunk. People look quite different. But sorry! It doesn't last…..

Hope....

2009-09-27T01:11:00.000-07:00

The taunting earth had swallowed this vulnerability,

The dark clouds had consumed this fragility,

The precious breath was strangled in the depths of murky waters,

Sobbing hope trembled, desperately sought refuge ,

In fear and pain it winced,

Heaved sighs satisfying forlorn lungs; a tumultous anguish in this existence,

The howling winds had battered this helplessness; its deafening screams shuddering all strength,

The ruthless cold had numbed this innocence,

The stinging venom had paralysed this valuable world,

No, rise from the mocking arms of defeat,

break out of the shackles of tyranny, the chains of opression,

Belligerent hope; it clambers through beaten paths and intimidating mountains ,

Conquering the road to freedom with steps of defiance,

Victory, was only in abeyance; concealed in the hidden chest of times,

Hope you shall, emerge with punishing victory.

Verona

2009-09-23T06:57:00.000-07:00

Juliet..oh juliet...thou art so impatient. I was headed to meet her in verona at romeo n juliet road, but my Juliet was already at our balcony. And reaching there first she virtually wanted me to teleport myself to the same spot, which was stressed over and over again from the messages she sent through 'pigeonette'.

'Where you?, How long is it gonna take you to get here?" she kept saying. And why not? pigeonette had to be kept busy, else she'd doze off to sleep every time Juliet thought of Romeo which is blasphemous. And the only other way to bring her back to our world was to smack her hard on her butt with a clonk. Now no matter how I hard I scrambled to tell Juliet that I was going to be united with her very soon, she found it very unconvincing. So much so that she wanted to come here herself, grab me and plant me where I should be- with her in the magic balcony! Not that I wanted to be there any less, but life as cruel as it always is, I was travelling in a primitive mode of transport called the ' tortoiseshaw'- well it's not driven by a tortoise but a homosapien resembling one- no no not in appearance but in terms of pace. Yea, that's right. So, I hoped pigeonette could mediate the situation till I got to her....

So, I could see her. But she couldn't see me. The evil cousin zaaradas would have chuckled at that, much like Smeagle the angry little monster. Oh see came out of her balcony-it's four-wheeled and it moves! Don't laugh, it moves pretty fast. So she gets down from the balcony to greet me. See I'm not good with colors. NO I'M NOT COLOR BLIND. Was that the evil cousin muttering something in my ear again. Grrr....But yea as I was saying, umm...it's something of a green shade with various other complementing colors, with the like of red, golden..umm..yea something like that forming a nice blend on the dress she wore. We walked through the boulevards of Verona arm in arm, and heart in heart.

With the golden streaks of sunlight falling on her face I saw a b-e-a-utiful pair of eyes. Yes, that of Juliet! How come I never noticed them before? I was speaking to them from time to time. What intervened however were the by passers of Verona. Let me tell you they are somewhat of a pain in the ass. Yep, they are. Don't they just love feasting their eyes on the famous 'Romeo and Juliet' . I was biting my minds lip, cursing myself for having left my pen at home. For, neither they nor us had a pen with ourselves in case they wanted to have an autograph from the lovers of Loverdom. Anyways, my obsession with Juliet and her stunning feet slowly huddled me away into places with billboards saying ' sensible thoughts'.

Balcony, balcony, take us forth to a serene land not infested by rude passerbys of Verona. And there we are at paddystalk road no. 7. Add to that we are blessed by the great snack of the great country called foochka-no it's not chinese food, and lickpoti-no you don't lick food out of a pot. So there we indulge into giving our tummies a short good time. For they say, 'No food, no love'.

And as Romeo and Juliet tour their love-filled day through the roads of Paddystalk they end up in nandos. Sounds like the alien land I once ruled in Facebook called nanoidas. Well I invented that name, thought that would be a nice name for a land of nanoids. May 10 naans?Don't no why the call nandos, nandos though. Anyways, we were ushered in and seated by a amiable lady of 10 naans. Romeo and Juliet talked for what seemed like a few seconds despite that the clock had a different story to tell. They sipped on a 'goa lemon' - Oh got the spelling right, I was thinking of boa(the snake?)lemon all along, and then a pomegranate-crushed-into-sprite-thingy-which-I-could-make-at-home. Well, sorry for forgetting what it's called, but I was trying to remember it with visual associations so this is what I come up with. Well that's not the important part anyway. All that mattered was being able to say in my heart: I love thee Juliet. I love thee. Oh and also our little war game depicted by the beautiful flowers with no smell. Juliet thinks the war was waged by the pathetic loser girl that once upon a time set eyes on Juliet's love. So three petals represented this battle, so much so that Juliet eventually forgot to bring the beautiful flowers that never had a fragrance.

And as for the 'I love thee part', well for real the best I could come up with was, j'taime. And now I feel laughing like goofy the goof. Now then better luck next time Romeo!

The ocean

2009-09-18T23:24:00.001-07:00

Pre-dusk purple kissed the golden sands,
the misty sprays of the gushing waves moistening the mighty land,
the land and the sea, they are but one-
the island's life being the mighty ocean
breathing in and breathing out,
every moment is a rhythmic motion-
low tide- the island now lies tranquily in a state of sedation,
You are my ocean

By

my babyluv (a write back to ' The rose')

The rose

2009-09-18T22:53:00.000-07:00

The mesmerizing aroma of a rose,
it embraces the early morning breeze,
The dew hugging those delicate petals- they adorn it with unparalleled beauty,
The rose, it's a marriage between snowing love and the connifers of joy in the heavens of my heart,
The rose, I fear... is you, my dear...

A precious tear drop

2009-09-04T21:34:00.000-07:00

I see, a reflection of me

It ripples across glassy waters

Glistening droplets of warm tears well up in the rims of my vision

Waiting, to set an avalanche, beating it's path down a delicate valley of hope

I embrace every tear drop, caress it tenderly- it trembles

I see, a reflection of me

It ripples across crystal-clear waters

I look into the depths

I frantically search for this elusive something

It glimmers back and forth, across tear drops

It shimmers across the realms of an existence

I see, a reflection-not anymore of me

For it's one of two

It ripples not, across the waters

For it craddles peacefully in precious tear drops

The heart

2009-09-02T09:58:00.000-07:00

The heart-it’s going numb
Thought it had atrophied eons ago
Tragedy, what pitiful tragedy
The intermittent agony- it’s that messenger I fear
The heart-it tosses, turns and wriggles; it’s a painstaking affair
I tread a thin line; that between worlds I know and I know not
The brain waves, they stop to a jarring halt; my flesh and blood deserts my soul
Those neurons, they fire a zillion poisoned arrows
The heart- it’s nauseated by the blood that gushes through
Tragedy, what pitiful tragedy
A barbaric pain chokes my nerves;
I yearn for a something to douse this sickening ache
The heart- it frantically begs for peace
Peace, it’s you that I seek; set me free
Wrap me in a cocoon of comfort; rescue me away from this dissent that’s set alight in me
Breathe into me, an iota of liberty, to mitigate this misery
The heart- it only seeks peace truly

Anchor me????

2009-08-11T02:09:00.000-07:00

whopee! I'm just back from this audition. Well, and that too for this BBC program! I was sooo nervous all this time. Not that I'm a monkey with what I went to display but then again although I have absolutely no idea why I was all jittery...what I certainly can tell is that I was lost big time! Parched lips, an inside that somersaulted at it's own will every few minutes, all tensed up muscles and an erratically racy heart. Well what do you draw out of it? Running for my life? The fight or flight response? Tsk Tsk...yeah something like that.

I had a dream last night. More of a nightmare. I'm at this meeting where I'm asked to talk about my ideas and I flunk. The reflex to it; I'm gonna be a flop tomorrow no effing doubt about that. My heart pounded more, it was an hour to the audition and I didn't even get the venue location. What's wrong? Didn't they like my resume? Where did I go wrong! And god knows what not. But nop, I was called. Relief.....

I liked the place. I liked the scripts. I somehow felt overwhelming..overwhelming...confidence!

The other potential anchor came in, and it was test time. We ran through the scripts once, then...lights on..camera! It was wicked fun! I never had the tiniest idea that I'd enjoy this so much. A snap camera session. Thank you's , hand shakes, smiles and...........

Well...I'll know on Thursday if I get to explore my new discovery.....If I'll be the anchor for the upcoming BBC learning program...I'll bask in the glory of my personal satisfaction for the time-being...Cheers!

July 7th 2009

2009-07-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

I had another story to tell about July the 7th. Late-late again but hey I was somewhat tied up with my thesis work and then a little bit of this and that. I got so much on my plates right now that I'm quite overwhelmed, everything just rushing to a bottleneck. God knows when my brain goes to a screeching halt! Dear brain, plz bear with me! I've been looking up for the meaning of life these days. What's in it actually for us? I got various conflicting versions of it from various sources but none really convincing enough to give me the 'eureka' vibe. Argh..and as I keep pondering I grow older and maybe hopefully hopeful. The universe keeps expanding if the expansion theory is right, the time-machine that we're in propels us through into the future every second. And, we get to be cast in pre-programmed movie sequences. Now whether you can change those sequences through freewill is beyond me. I should be lucky to and rather happy in playing my role in the movie! Well, what's the point I'm trying to make anyway??? Pffttttttt....

Anyways, the time-machine lands me on to the 7th of July 2009. A good reminder that I need to workout what role I'm playing in the movie. The script doesn't say anything about my role, at least not yet. I begin the day first with wishes from a special someone, which shows how much one human being cares for another. This apparently is due to love that one person feels for another. FYI-Love is a very very complex program that you don't want to delve too much into. There are just a zillion variables and the program just executes itself in response to all these variables. Sometimes leading to a pretty scenario and sometimes not. Some kind of a self -modified program perhaps? A virus? Now, then there were other people who wished me throughout the day. Even my new colleagues at work. This is apparently due to a different strain of love. It was a lovely feeling, to be remembered, to be cared for, to be 'loved'. Especially to know that people even make the effort to find your phone number from others just to let you know that they remember the day you began existing.

I didn't meet up with any of my friends nor did I do any of the other things I usually do on the day. However, I did meet the special someone, only so briefly. And, I rushed home after work just to spend a good portion of the day with my family. Oddly enough no one at home seemed to notice that they had forgotten the usually well remembered 7th of July. I couldn't conjure up any reason. I frantically searched my mind to decipher this. I felt a certain something which put into words sounds something like ,"Nobody loves me". Causality, in it's weirdest form! A series of interlinked reactions lead me to a very depressing, hollow state of worthlessness. All triggered by this primary feeling of " Nobody loves me". .... But before the complexity got more complex, it dissolved. Yes, it was all due to a group of people trying to surprise you with a 'surprise', not because they didn't love you, but because they really loved you. I didn't come home late as they expected. So, an artificial blackout and a flipping the lights on, and shrieks of 'Happy Birthday' just didn't materialize. Their little surprise program didn't execute as they anticipated. Would it conflict if it executed as such within the much bigger program? But, who cares? At the end of the day I know......" Everyone loves me"..................

Sweet November Rain

2009-07-04T07:35:00.000-07:00

A cacophony of sounds; toned down by the serene amalgam of curious sounds of precious rain-drops against fresh leaves and heat baked mud..

A dreamy, peaceful and tranquil world beholds me...the soft soothing touch of a sudden gentle breeze lifts my love spoilt heart and sends it into a joyful swing...

A million crystal baby drops of rain face me, kiss me, tingle me, as I wink upwards into the vast expanse of the majestic skies...

I lay, in a rain washed boulevard, draped in a satin shroud of a cool, delicate, feathery feeling...yet insatiable..the desire for something..

The desire for oneness with you......

Parteiii@sisimpur

2009-06-30T20:53:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling pretty groggy today. It was a long day yesterday ending at around 12 am. It rained on and off throughout the whole day but I loved it. Calm and quiet is what I prefer. I strolled in late to work again this time almost by two hours. Now you don't do that when you're just a newbie at your office. But that's plain old me. I somehow manage to pull it off. I've proudly carried on with my tradition of being late for most things I do, well that if I remember properly is since the time I was a kid at school. I used to put my school uniform on while I was half asleep and then had my breakfast in bed too to avoid getting late for school. Good old days....Anyways no more bragging today.

So, the only thing I was looking forward to yesterday was the get-together party at Spectra in Gulshan 1. Well what can I say, I didn't have a darn thing planned out for the day so by default it was the only thing on my fun list. There was nothing much going on at work. Some coffee, some music, and a few smokes is all I can talk about. So at around 7 pm I'm in the office car all set to make it for this get-together which was going to be marking the 5th year of Sisimpur. There I was, like a fish out of water. Ali Zaker ( our director ) cut a few jokes which I didn't seem to decode. Everyone was laughing in approval though...I didn't want to offend him either so I had a smile pasted on. I hardly knew anyone except for the few people I got to know in my 15 days of work. I'm no social butterfly to be honest but I tried my best to be friendly and approachable and I did get to know some of our Mupeteers and a few other people. The mood didn't get any better however. The music was a flop, the settings weren't far from that either, and the food was below par. All the dancing was bizarre but at least the few that managed to dance to the music seemed to enjoy themselves. Hats off to them.. Well probably it was the vodka. My grey shirt and black Jeans wasn't a bad match for the event(No I don't want to say that I'm comparing this to some funeral gathering). Ahh..I just love my intuition at times, ahem...The only thing I enjoyed though was the funny segments from all the seasons that they had. That did tickle my funny gene to some action.Anyways, the party rolled on for what seemed like forever and then I was rescued by the office transport. Not like 911, everything is slow here...Let us all pray for a better future..Amen...

Gimpel the fool

2009-06-30T00:39:00.000-07:00

You have no idea about the drama I was about to tell you...Too bad, I had to stop abruptly on my last post.

Yeah, apparently my girlfriend took her much needed nap, and called me up...

"Were you hun? When you getting back home? What you doin?!! ".....and a whole host of other questions that any other girlfriend would ask?

" Are you okay"?, I asked. Her voice sounded off note. I have to ask that question quite often these days. She loves getting the cold and injuring her foot, not to mention the 'throwing up' episodes which she can't really resist.

" I caught a cold. I had the AC on for too long I guess. "

Ah bon! No surprises. Now, I went on telling her about every trivial thing that had happened and not happened ,and anything that was worth telling.... Then as she laughed hard at all the things my professor tells me I heard some background noise. SFX: SOUNDS OF GIRL 1 TRYING TO SNATCH THE PHONE FROM GIRL2...Argh, these scripts at Sisimpur (Sesame Street) pop up everywhere in my gray matter . Anyways, so girl 2 goes live now: " How could you not even tell it wasn't me? God!!! I can't believe this!! What's wrong with you?? I'm not talking to you!!", and an amalgam of other stuff that all came with either a question mark or an exclamation mark. The background music in my mind played: gimpel the fool....gimpel the fool....

Hey, I guess I'll let you all laugh at me for a while now. And, besides I have to check on my girlfriend. She's not well...Yes...I'm worried....

My super girlfriend

2009-06-29T01:55:00.000-07:00

I felt like an April's fool for the first time ever. And that too in June!!! The weather was nothing short of spectacular yesterday. Well that is solely my opinion. It was raining, and boy was that a relief!!!It felt like being rescued from the middle of some desert and escorted away to an oasis; not a mirage. We have been having these horrifying heatwaves lately (I never cut a tree, don't know why I have to put up with this...jeeez)... I opted to take a day off from work. My first day away from job since I joined work. It had to to be a memorable one. First it was a double trip to the bank just to renew my ATM card... The card should take another 4 days to reach me. Is there a math there? Anyways I just couldn't convince them how broke I was and that if I didn't get my card sooner I'd probably be marooned- at home -for a while...

Then there was my favorite-est Professor who is virtually more annoying than anybody I've known since the moment I was born.

"Why did you go for this job??? "

(That too in the funniest voice you can imagine)

"Well, sir, I wanted to do something fun for a while. I'm planning to do an MBA soon. I think pharmacy coupled with an MBA would get me where I want to be. I needed the flexibility this job offers me."

"Don't you want to become a scientist??"

" Maybe later."

" You couldn't be one . You've already switched careers."

(Duhhh!!!- Who's he? Morpheus??)

So he went rambling on and on...and on... all through the time that Rip Van Winkle slept and awoke from his sleep and went back to sleep again...My Professor never stops at one Winkle nap;never. Now once I bailed myself out of 'Abu Ghraib' I couldn't be happier to see the name flashing on my mobile phone screen!!

"Hey, hun"....yes, my girlfriend!!!!!! My super girlfriend!!! Very cheerful, always animated, hubbly n bubbly-I don't have problems imagining her with one eye open and the other shut.

Life with my nouveau job

2009-06-27T09:55:00.000-07:00

How do I describe how I'm feeling lately? It's funny you know. I guess I feel somewhat better today after feeling quite awful for a while. The only closest feeling I could probably relate to-this feeling of mine-is like the time when people enter their teenage years. I mean when teenagers find teenage-life like some sorry phase of their life of which they have no clue about. Well, I'm definitely not a teenager anymore or nor do I have the slightest intention to write about the rigors of teenage life here. I've in fact breezed past my teenage years without much whining or causing headache for those around me. Well that's quite another story.

Well, coming to this point in time-the vast expanse of time-you should know that I've graduated with a Bachelor of Pharmacy degree, and that too quite recently. Having just done that should feel like getting a breath of ultra fresh air. A feeling of pride, for you're going to serve out their, less of your purpose but more of the people out there. Well that is the exact feeling I've been trying to instill in me, god knows for how long.

It's very tragic to tell you that I was at odds at figuring out at what I was going to do with so much responsibility at hand. So, to confuse myself less and everyone else let me remind myself and anyone reading this that one is not at liberty to choose here, like they can in other places from a myriad of specializations when it comes to applying your pharmaceutical knowledge. So here I am knocking myself around in despair. I literally imagine myself throwing myself at the wall. A big thudding noise. I straighten myself out and repeat the procedure. Funny? No, not to me. I don't want to spend 540 minutes a day in some bunker. First of all that's a lot of minutes, secondly I don't want to be cut-off from most of the people out there for that amount of time in some point in a big region of the vast space. The production environment in the pharmaceutical Industry gives you just about that. Trust me only the late Saddam could have a grin on his face if he knew. Well put myself in a place like that and I don't even get to know if the world is really spinning on its axis, whether it had rained, or if there was a strong enough wind that almost blew away the people outside, or something . Well that's quite an important thing to keep up with nowadays after all the heat waves that's on a smoke-alive-all-spree. Well, does that sound bad??? Maybe terrible? Or how about super awful? Oh did I not mention about the-pied-piper-of-hamelin scheme? They don't pay you in money. They buy you a pipe and you play it for your money. Don't be stupid enough to believe that. But believe me it's better doing that then settling for what they are ready to offer you in BUCKS!! Now, now...I'm not done whining and moaning and groaning and grumbling about what life at this point in time hasn't duly offered me .....