Desert Rose

If you must act like an impertinent man ;  Just because my clear sky  now looks grey ; And thunderstorms y ou cannot bear the sound of ; Please continue. Only remember that even today, I'd say cheers with you knowing my mug has poison. I would gladly drink it   for old times’ sake .

Being Indian. There is vagueness, a bit of confusion. I thought I wasn’t ashamed of it – of being an Indian, but was there pride? If yes, about what? History? Of what we have achieved in the past 20 odd years that I have witnessed and remember of?  I don’t know an answer to that.   So I thought, let’s think about pride and what it means to most of us. I realized eventually that to have an answer to this confusion, one needs to decide on what is actually meant when one says “Indian” or “Being Indian”.   I came to the conclusion that we confuse 'Ethnicity Indian' with 'Citizen Indian' at most times. This eventually leads to our idea of nationalism which in turn leads to patriotism and all the like. Ethnicity adds a new dimension. With ethnicity, there is suddenly a few thousand years old history and culture. Are we all proud of that? Aren’t we all taught to be proud of that? And I came up with something that I thought made sense. (of course! I would suppor...

Last night I saw Spotlight. I still feel numb!  I don’t always update my blog after a movie but yes, some make exceptions. Spotlight is an American drama film directed by Thomas McCarthy and written by McCarthy and Josh Singer and won the award for the best film at the prestigious Oscars.  The story is about The Boston Globe's "Spotlight" team, a newspaper investigative unit and the real Spotlight Team earned the 2003 Pulitzer Prize for Public Service. The story takes us back to 2001, when a team of journalists from The Boston Globe methodically uncovered a pattern of sexual abuse of children by Roman Catholic priests.  The film was an excellent watch! The journalists’ initial unbelief, the journey to awareness, their commitment and desire to uncover the truth, their sensitivity to the victims, their dedication and persistence, their questioning of established religious systems were all so compelling. I could not help but identify with so...

Sleep, baby ; Your eyes will soon be heavied by burdens of this world.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Rest your gentle head upon the soft pillow ;  It is time to drift away from days where,  all decisions are made with a teddy bear. Sleep, baby ;  Your ears need not hear the hate tearing the future.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Let dreams be the reason to your perfect smile as you slip off to sleep.  Enjoy the night;  Live in bliss a while before this world becomes yours. Sleep, baby ;  Your mouth need not taste all the bitterness around.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Discover dreamland awaiting you across the sea ;  R eliving all the fun you had.  Ignorance is bliss but that will be just till the fresh slap of intelligence. Sleep, baby ;  Your nose need not smell the foul smell of rotten intention.  A world which will soon be...

I preferred treading slowly. Dragging my steps. Contemplating every move and watching out for everything around.  But well... I feel I was not making the best choice. Run! That is always better. At least it feels that way to me lately. Run so fast that the air feels like feathers against your skin. Run till the sun sets, turning the hazy pink dusk into a dark canopy with stars. Run till all the noises blend into a symphony. Run through crowded streets and empty lanes. Run when it is raining and feel the water bouncing off your skin.  Run till tears stream down your cheeks and mixes with your sweat.  Run your own path.  Just Run.

I sat alone, apart from my own twin that we all carry in our heads; alone in the corner being able to observe everyone in the cafe.  Wooden floor boards & wall panels with simply deep quotations & abstract framed art work.  Too much of calm inside that compensates for all the rush outside.  I sat in my corner, reading over tea & waiting for my cake. Other guests came in, sometimes alone & sometimes not ; some of them knew each other while some did not. I tried to make friendly eye contact so I could initiate a smile that might start a ‘good evening to you’ or a ‘hello’. Mostly their eyes would avoid mine while they sorted out where they were going to sit & what they were going to order & of course replying to texts in between all this. Now they had no reason to say ‘good evening’ because to say it then would have been out of place, the meeting having already occurred some minutes earlier. So, no gestures or smiles of acknowledgeme...

A dying winter Sun had hushed the land below to sleep but on the bridge that spanned the backwaters Saira stood wide awake in stillness. Transfixed like a little girl caught in headlights; eyes captivated by the water currents far below. She watched the water that rushed unquestioningly on in its blind search for an ocean’s dark but welcoming shroud.               By eleven in the night, it was almost graveyard silent. But she stood there lost in thought. The slight breeze rustled through her hair and her long flared kurta moved along. This was all she needed that night or maybe any night. Her body and soul braced forlorn on the wrong side of the railing. Suddenly a voice shattered the silence and with it went any semblance of peace she might have had. Saira nearly jumped out of her skin, for she’d not seen or heard a soul for a long while now. 'Steady on mate,' said the voice, ‘didn’t mean to make you jump.' She gripped the railings...