A dangerous love affair

The calendar on my table top,

Verdana prints,over some vague landscape,

 Multi hued, against the glossy, beige veneer,

Reddened weekends,bold,

The rest ,paler,in teal blue.

Poorer cousins.

Two full columns i count, purposefully slow,

Before i see you ,again, whole and full,

Your rounded face, poke marked, 

Reminiscent of adolescence,

Now chubby and luminous.

Then past two columns , more, i count,

When i would see little of you each day.

Those long hours of waiting.

The searching eyes sweep across the

dotted azure,turning  rusty, reddish, grayish and inky 

by the minute,for a glimpse of you.

You think little of my anguish and

like carefree days of kid hood 

once more you naughtily

entice me with your peek-a-boo

flooding me with memoirs, a one too many.

In your completeness, I rise above the forces,

hopelessly enmeshed, gravitating onto u.

In captivation of numbed impulses,surging adrenaline,

racing,to a glorious climax, like a super nova.

Binding, Blinding,white noise,in a stellar union.

Honey "mooning"

I see you, frozen in mid air,
Warped in blackish grey, diluted,

Very wet in the nebular shimmer

Mounted on the albino stallions.

Your aura rubbing off

On my sunburnt skin,

Gleaming now. With it,

the ember in almond eyes that take u in,
in between slumbers in the deepening nights.

In your smells,

That caress the senses,

Wild, passionate, now sated, now guilty ,

As I trace your contours.

Gently rocking, pacing, to the tidal tractions.

Warming up to the nip in the air,
that held its breath,

Lest you were out of sight.

Untouched, you tease, you tickle,

Beyond my immediate reach,

In between the glowers and sighs.
Still, you are an inviting proposition!

Unfair, your hold over me,

you are, but a dot, in the welkin tapestry,

Beneath my thumb, pinhole,

Through the crisscrossed fingers.

A dangerous love affair!!!

The Great Indian Oscar mad rush!

The movie is indeed, as ARR mentioned in his acceptance speech, about optimism, hope and choices. While giving due credit to the makers of the movie, the entire crew and cast; beyond any shade of doubt ,there have been better movies made by compatriots on similar theme. And to a large extent the global attention that the movie continues to receive has been for the fact that a very English director has been at the helm of the affairs.

The movie is a thrilling roller coaster ride ;leaving no room for thoughts and sucks one into the lives of its characters at a breathtaking pace. I have always been of the opinion that we Indians almost always look to the West for appreciation or a pat on the back and this fixation sometimes does go over board.

Let’s not be quick in criticizing Danny Boyle. He ,like ,everyone else has every right to make a film on any topic he fancies and present it as he interprets it. Movie making is a painstaking effort and it would be ridiculous to say that Mr. Danny’s hidden agenda is to tarnish India’s image; contrasted to our aspirtaions to be the emerging super power.If he has undertaken to make a movie, adapation of a novel ,which showcases the underbelly of our country in a manner that discredits and shames us Indians, it really is not his problem. Nor should it concern him. He simply is taking creative liberty.

And ,let’s not forget that the novel itself is by an Indian -India's deputy high commissioner to SA. A diplomat that he is, has acknowledged in his book something that exists and prevails under the shadows our nation’s great economic divide. If anything it calls for our countrymen to take a closer look at ourselves and around us.

Looking at the big picture I can only think that we should take into count opinions of learned people. People who are ignorant enough to accept the make believe machinery of negative media publicity associated with this movie and who choose to see poverty, paedophiles, begging, slums and other pessimism arousing factors as a nation's wholesomeness , do their opinion actually matter?

As Vikas Swarup stated in this interview that, “Indians are taking it personally” is very apt. It is about us; and yes it pains!!!! Pains us that our Oscar dreams had to materialise in this fashion, where the unpleasantness is out in the open and for all to see , making light of  our attempts to shove it under the carpet as always.

If we are seeking international recognition; with the bouquets comes the brick bats, and it should be accepted in the right spirit. That the think tank behind Oscar panel of judges and their judgement is a different story altogether; which has and will always be debatable.

I must confess I am not a fan of the movie. It’s a good watch and has an underlying message that appealed to my sensibilities. But it’s a matter of pride to me that Resul Pookutty,ARR and every Indian associated with the movie very well deserve the acclaim and their achievement seals the fact that we have world class abilities in all aspects of film making and what better way to show it to the world. This isn’t time to indulge in criticising and indulge in mud slinging no matter what’s the campaign of a select few behind tainting our nation’s image if so be thought. Let’s just make the right choice of celebrating the success of our people.

Toast be raised to them!!!

Being in love..

Far across the distant land, hand in hand we go,

Riding on the winds of changes that blow.

The sails that ride gentle on waves ,take us ashore,

to new islets ,new sands ,never seen before.

I walked the path my heart chose,

Through the night, till the sun rose up ,above ,

Trudging alone in search of my desires

Yet ,I knew not what my heart aspires.

 

Now you walk beside, a rhythm anew.

I care not for the roads, neither the view.

With you ,my resolves now strengthens

My steps springing in new confidence.

Your bright gaze shines moonless nights away,

smile so charming like tender tulips that sway,

love was not when I gazed deep in your eyes that night,

it was in looking, together ,outward at the sight..

Thinking of you...

The drizzle, a steaming mug of mocha,

The warmth, the reassurance, the content,

As I wrap my fingers around it.

Have I been thinking of you?

The pitter patter on the roof,

The tiny drops on the panes,

Tumbling, merging, one chasing the other,

Quicker, faster, all the way down to the puddle.

Have I been thinking of you?

The flicker of the tv,

The black and white,

The lips move, “winter must be cold for those with no warm memories"

Charming Cary. The smooth contours of Terry's face.

Replay, the whirr...timeless, soda with fizz intact..

Zonk! Powered out, hmmm……

Bubbles that burst too soon.

Have I been thinking of you?

Stretched on the bed, in the folds of the linen,

The taunt muscles, a release, a relief,

The soft fluffy pillow, the smiling bunny on the cover,

Now, crushed beneath me, drowned in my face,

Have I been thinking of you?

Stillness - all around me, over me, inside me.

Pure ecstasy. The crow’s feet that form at the corners,

The faint dimples that formed, like they always do,

When I smile? Yes! Because I have been thinking of you.

Someplace "Me"

A cheery robin by my windowsill,

A burst of spring in the terrace garden,

The feet’s shuffle, the hustle bustle,

A honk, a shout, the wailing sirens,

Yet so removed, I find myself.

Caught in the realms of fading lights and the languid air,

Seeing everything, yet really, nothing.

Intermittent noises no longer crowding the mind

Of dulled senses and scattered thoughts,

Finally, at peace with something in me,

Like in brooks where the water runs deep,

Solitude filling every creek.

My world, untouched by anyone but me,

Not heavy in me, on me, but all of me.

Where I am understood, by anyone but me,

The joys, crisscrossed by sorrows, are all mine,

Shared by anyone but me.

Truly liberated in this expanse of my own.

Like a cloak of invisibility on the suit of life.

hidden lie my happiness ...This is someplace truly me.