Trials and Tribulations by Fire

Ever seen a poem being enacted?  Tamasha, starring Ranbir and Deepika, is like a poem flowing freely on reel. You can probably reach out and touch it. The screen ceases to exist after a while.  Deepika is like old wine, hits your deepest conscience, after a while, it becomes difficult to discern which is true which is a movie. The movie goes back and forth, like Murakami's stories, intermingling the senses with facts and overstated truths. The narrative turns the facts around and in a dream like sequence, the child decides that storytelling was what he wanted to do.  In short, Tamasha will appeal to a very small section of an audience, which loves to watch good cinema. Tamasha is designed, like a jatra , a street play, where there is a jester and a storyteller. Deepika is stunning, but the main hero, if I may say is the story. Ranbir is good but not as stunning as he was in Yeh Jawaani... I had a nice time watching the movie, for various reasons. But, in short, Tamasha

It has been months now that I put pen to paper.  I have not been feeling the flow, instead, I have been distracted.  Exactly, since, Nov 6. Damn! This day is such a disaster.  Last year, my life turned. This year, my life changed again. Same date.  I do not know for the better or worse, but, life as I know it, has changed. Irreversible.  What do I do about this change? Change is good, my mind says.  But, what about my life. I am like a person who has swallowed a cork while drinking wine, unable to swallow the damn thing and unable to spit it out because it has gone on too far...too far, too deep, too much... Dec 8: Should not have happened, maybe it was destiny, but, is it a mistake?  It doesn't seem like...damn, feels so natural, normal, intense...    Changed fortunes of many people...the air is different, I can sense it... I saw what I saw, felt what I felt, right/wrong I don't care.  Life as I know it, has changed. Never again will I be able to go back t

Feeling like an utter fool maybe a fool would be an understatement maybe something harsher should be used Does Oxford have a word like that?  was I blind? what was I thinking? Shit man! what was I giving up...losing out on...! and for what...this?  I wasted so much time...! Thank ganpathi bappa for showing me the right way... as soon as I can I will come to visit you... You always help me when I reach out to you... Maybe you were showing me a way that day too...I was blind Today I prayed fervently...Baba also...Thanks a lot! Shit! Ass... I need to do some paschatap...

A soft knock on the door made us look up. A soft voice asked, 'May I'?  We said in chorus, 'Yea'. The door opened slowly and a face peered in.  I saw the glasses first, then the eyes...I lowered my glance, the mouth came into view. He was gorgeous. A sweet enveloping smile on his lips, he walked in, and extended his right hand, 'Hey, I am Ravi.'  The smile killed me, piercing my heart. Suddenly my hand refused to cooperate. My friend extended her hand and he took it, still looking at me, a quick curiosity crossing his eyes. I shook myself out of the reverie and extended my hand and gave a quick handshake. His hands were soft yet very masculine. The tingle made me look up. He was looking at me with open curiosity. And smiling.  My mind screamed, 'stop smiling, I will die!'  The next few hours flew by. I had no idea what happened. I understood that we had discussed some very serious topics. I had no clue, what they were. All I could recall were

Weeks have gone past  since you became the nucleus Weeks have gone past time makes no sense life seems not the same food smells different flowers I have stopped seeing weeks have gone past You walked in, with your disarming smile the fresh earth smell lingering behind, long after you have walked away weeks have gone past since I slept, since I sobbed my heart, my consciousness, I am still searching have you taken them away?  say not say not weeks have gone past without me walking on the ground life has a new meaning lipstick out in the open kajal seems to look blacker the skin on my forehead shinier is it love is it love they ask I just say, it is you it is you... weeks have gone past since i started loving myself weeks have gone past since i started living for you... weeks have gone past

This post is about the people Asha holds close to her heart and who went away. For reasons best known to them. She had love for all of them, but now, don't waste any time thinking about any of them. Asha reminisces about each of them.   Jane:  Jane and I go back a long way. I met her when I joined the Bank. She was already working there and she seemed to be the epitome of smartness even back then: 2006. Foul-mouthed, egoistic, stubborn, and fiercely independent. These are terms I would typically use for her. I was totally besotted with her till 2014. Janet had very strong opinions about the Hindu way of life and the caste system. I had married in 2008 into an orthodox TamBram family and was going through my own set of issues, settling into my new life. All was fine. The change happened slowly. She became obsessed about the oppression of Dalits and became very vocal about it all. We separated. I do miss her but I cant relate to her anymore so best thing is to let her go.   

Wherever you turn, you see women.  They all look alike. Bright printed Kurtis with tight, sometimes sheer, leggings, ear phones plugged into their ears walking merrily with a smart looking backpack or a dandy handbag.  One would think life has come full circle. Women are climbing the corporate ladder fast and the modern women is far more empowered than the women of the previous generation.  Money power makes them feel invincible almost and they walk on, taking everything in their stride. It is certainly a very good trend. I am all for female empowerment.  On the other hand, another dark reality surfaces. The women in powerful positions taking all these important decisions and ensuring they get the work done from their minions. These minions could be men and obviously other less powerful women.  An important point to note here is about the relationship between these powerful and not so powerful women. Have you even noticed how these powerful women (madams) treat their women s

Anand Neelakantan's second book: AJAYA, is the story of Duryodhana nee Suyodhana, the crown prince of Hastinapura. The oft told story of the Great War of Mahabharata is retold from a different perspective. Which in fact makes the narrative enticing and very interesting. Anand has done a lot of research and gives the readers an amazing view point from the "Villain" - Duryodhana, whose side of the story nobody bothered to understand. Generations have read the story of the Pandavas and mothers name their sons Arjun in the hope that their sons would emulate the fine qualities of the great warrior. Anand has given a different twist to the whole story. That makes these men, human and fallible.  When you imagine a Bheema, all muscle and power, you cannot but wonder if he ever crossed the line and became a bully. The very thought that maybe Yudhistira might have been cunning is incomprehensible. AJAYA gives you a new insight, forcing you to acknowledge and even think that

Nowadays, I seem to be doing these activities a lot. If I am not working, I am driving to and from office. If I am done driving, I am reading, anything on the laptop or a physical book. The other things do not seem to matter or slip through the cracks somehow.  Catching some movie made in the 70's makes my heart flip. Yeah, I love the Kabhi Kabhis, Don, and many such more.  Have eternal affection for the original angry young man. After joining this new place, have been trying to stay aloof. From people, from getting into relations, from sharing my life incidents, sorrow, joy. Giggling with a few colleagues is something, but forming bonds I wont do again. With the few friends I have I just want to pass my life peacefully. Anyway, the "friend" keeps saying, never get into the complexities of other people's lives, you will lose your peace of mind. So true.  Staying away from even known people, I feel odd sometimes. Consciously staying aloof is taking a toll on my

You raise your voice You raise your hand I cringe, knowing well the imprint that would land The skin singes, nerves tingle, throat constricts in pain I cry out not loud, neighbors should think all is clear Blue black red green I have seen it all Marks that no eraser can wipe away Marks that run with my blood, through my heart You talk so that you can control You cry so that you can overpower I let you do that so that I can live...