Harshly wrenches the umbrella from your wet grasp
And laughs.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Eleanor Rigby,Father Mackenzie
Haughty Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
Eating her curd and whey
A lonely old spider
Came and sat down beside her
But she hastily scurried away
Thoughts shooting around inside his head
Like the three blind mice
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
What’s the big surprise.
Hickory dickory dock
The hands moved over the clock
And out came the sun
But then there were none.
Eating her curd and whey
A lonely old spider
Came and sat down beside her
But she hastily scurried away
Thoughts shooting around inside his head
Like the three blind mice
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
What’s the big surprise.
Hickory dickory dock
The hands moved over the clock
And out came the sun
But then there were none.
Nirvana
Piping hot water beats down on neck and shoulders.Everything around dissolves in a haze of steam.Thoughts shooting around inside my head withdraw,the lazy insistent drumming hushes all other sounds.I concentrate on keeping myself within the circumference of the falling water.
Cautiously I reach out for the mirror and trace clouds on its misted-over surface with a wet fingertip ,which disappear in seconds.
Cautiously I reach out for the mirror and trace clouds on its misted-over surface with a wet fingertip ,which disappear in seconds.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Today.
Excuse me,
You've had your chance
Its my turn today.
Excuse me,
I've worked very hard
I think I deserve a raise.
Excuse me,
This seat is mine
Hadn't you better vacate?
Excuse me?
Why cheat me sir
I happen to know the fare.
Excuse me.
No,nothing is the matter
I just need my space.
Excuse me...
I'm tired.
You've had your chance
Its my turn today.
Excuse me,
I've worked very hard
I think I deserve a raise.
Excuse me,
This seat is mine
Hadn't you better vacate?
Excuse me?
Why cheat me sir
I happen to know the fare.
Excuse me.
No,nothing is the matter
I just need my space.
Excuse me...
I'm tired.
Monday, December 31, 2007
...Maybe Thats Why.
Wildly rushing
Spinning reeling
breakneck
freewheeling
Adrenaline
gush
Smoke harsh lights
Slip swiftly by
The heady feel
of an effortless slide.
The way down is fun.
Spinning reeling
breakneck
freewheeling
Adrenaline
gush
Smoke harsh lights
Slip swiftly by
The heady feel
of an effortless slide.
The way down is fun.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Apparently about the Inter-mart basketball match.
The weather was very nervous. It kept raining distractedly and we rushed back and forth to avoid getting drenched. It finally stopped but someone sitting in front fished out an enormous golf umbrella, just in case. The rest of us wiped the chairs and sat down, expecting to enjoy ourselves.
I don’t understand the first thing about the game and occasionally burst into excited applause when the ball reached the wrong side of the court.
Go LMG!!! As an afterthought, Calcutta!!
It’s a little difficult to cheer when the two competing schools have the same name.
My learned friend who last played the game six years ago but knows everything about it nevertheless, kept commenting on the bad technique of the players. She rued having quit playing…
“I’m sure I’m better than most of them anyway.” she told me nonchalantly.
I chose to believe her.
I think I stopped listening at some point because I was afraid the girls might claw each others eyes out all because of a dirty brown sphere.
“How undignified...” I said, nodding disapprovingly, spectacles slipping off my shiny nose. It had started drizzling again.
Then things began to get interesting. The tussle on the court moved closer to the umbrella. And deep inside of me I wished that the ball would land on top of the umbrella and bounce off a couple of wise heads. Just to liven things up a bit.
In the background some players waved their outstretched hands in a fair imitation of the vaishnavites.My knowledgeable friend informed me that they were blocking the movement of the ball. How annoying, why couldn’t they rush around a little more and slip on the wet court. So much more entertaining .After all you could laugh at your own not-too-well appreciated joke about vaishnavites for only so long.
Hazel, a classmate of mine is a very gifted sportswoman. Everyone says so. She kept on scoring until the whole game was rendered pointless. We were winning by an enormous margin. Though I forget by how much exactly.
This of course went down excellently with everyone in the audience and the swimming team of our school started cheering with renewed energy. Our swimming team concocts strange, incomprehensible cheers which the whole school repeats without understanding. There is one that goes ‘ek dina dina dina, ek dina ukumpa…’Apparently it means nothing at all but it never fails to annoy the opponent team as they understandably don’t like being abused in foreign languages. They retaliate with something about ‘fata poster..’ Samriddhi, captain of our debate team grins and applauds weakly and confusedly. I don’t believe she knows a single cheer.
Five odd players continued to rush around the court while the rest of the team just sat. I felt sorry for them. They had been practicing for months in the sun and were all tanned a lovely brown yet weren’t allowed to play on the final day. They must feel very silly…
My wandering thoughts were cut off abruptly by a loud whistle. The game was over.
I suddenly couldn’t hear myself. I was told that we had won.
So we went home.
Disappointing end to an otherwise interesting day.
The weather was very nervous. It kept raining distractedly and we rushed back and forth to avoid getting drenched. It finally stopped but someone sitting in front fished out an enormous golf umbrella, just in case. The rest of us wiped the chairs and sat down, expecting to enjoy ourselves.
I don’t understand the first thing about the game and occasionally burst into excited applause when the ball reached the wrong side of the court.
Go LMG!!! As an afterthought, Calcutta!!
It’s a little difficult to cheer when the two competing schools have the same name.
My learned friend who last played the game six years ago but knows everything about it nevertheless, kept commenting on the bad technique of the players. She rued having quit playing…
“I’m sure I’m better than most of them anyway.” she told me nonchalantly.
I chose to believe her.
I think I stopped listening at some point because I was afraid the girls might claw each others eyes out all because of a dirty brown sphere.
“How undignified...” I said, nodding disapprovingly, spectacles slipping off my shiny nose. It had started drizzling again.
Then things began to get interesting. The tussle on the court moved closer to the umbrella. And deep inside of me I wished that the ball would land on top of the umbrella and bounce off a couple of wise heads. Just to liven things up a bit.
In the background some players waved their outstretched hands in a fair imitation of the vaishnavites.My knowledgeable friend informed me that they were blocking the movement of the ball. How annoying, why couldn’t they rush around a little more and slip on the wet court. So much more entertaining .After all you could laugh at your own not-too-well appreciated joke about vaishnavites for only so long.
Hazel, a classmate of mine is a very gifted sportswoman. Everyone says so. She kept on scoring until the whole game was rendered pointless. We were winning by an enormous margin. Though I forget by how much exactly.
This of course went down excellently with everyone in the audience and the swimming team of our school started cheering with renewed energy. Our swimming team concocts strange, incomprehensible cheers which the whole school repeats without understanding. There is one that goes ‘ek dina dina dina, ek dina ukumpa…’Apparently it means nothing at all but it never fails to annoy the opponent team as they understandably don’t like being abused in foreign languages. They retaliate with something about ‘fata poster..’ Samriddhi, captain of our debate team grins and applauds weakly and confusedly. I don’t believe she knows a single cheer.
Five odd players continued to rush around the court while the rest of the team just sat. I felt sorry for them. They had been practicing for months in the sun and were all tanned a lovely brown yet weren’t allowed to play on the final day. They must feel very silly…
My wandering thoughts were cut off abruptly by a loud whistle. The game was over.
I suddenly couldn’t hear myself. I was told that we had won.
So we went home.
Disappointing end to an otherwise interesting day.
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