There might be no time.
There might not be time enough
to step out of this silk-spun cocoon
and walk under the glare of
the ruthless, mirthless sun
after the security of artificial lights.
It takes years to tell a man from another
and an eternity to tell a face from a mask.
There might never be courage at all
to plunge into eyes lined with false lashes
and trace the route of tears,
or read out loud the unwritten tales of defeat.
There might never be freedom enough
to swim against the flow
or ride on the winds of change
or hear a turbulent sea sing
the song to set all free.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
There might be no time.
crazily rants The Mad Girl at 11:06 AM
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I saw love today, felt it, almost touched it. All my senses could perceive it without any difficulty even in an intensive care unit ward in a nursing home.
He’s not my blood relation, but he is more than that. I call him Pishemoshai [that would be my father’s sister’s husband]. Aged and ailing, in his late seventies my Pishemoshai is now in a nursing home. Pishi [father’s sister, not related directly by blood either] who is a good ten years younger to him, and I visited him this morning with a change of clothes and today’s newspaper.
Even in the cold white light of the neon lights and the typical smell of illness, medicines and anti-septics, I can see his face light up as soon as he sees Pishi and me.
Pishi has to lean over his bed to hear what he was saying, his voice now low and raspy. Their hands are touching carelessly and they are looking at each with anxiety and love writ in their faces. Love is almost tangible.
He asks about all his neighbours’ health, if she has taken her medicines, if the domestic help turns up regularly, if their son has called her up and keeps assuring her that he is alright. At the same time he reports every detail of his health meticulously.
“Hyan go, Gopal ke dekhte ichhe kore” he says.
[It’s difficult to translate ‘hyan go’. It’s an informal way in which Bengali spouses address each other. I’d say it’s equivalent to the English ‘dear’.]
* Dear, I wish to meet Gopal*
To which, she promptly rings up Gopal and asks him to try to come over.
He cannot talk much, it makes him cough and the excitement makes it difficult for him to breathe. So pishi admonishes him for talking so much and straining his nerves. He obliges, but for a moment or two and then he goes again, all words pent up in the twenty-two hours that he cannot see her gush out. He asks me about my parents and sister and then looks for a longish moment into Pishi’s eyes and like a child that has erred and is now ashamed, says ‘sorry’.
I read out to him from sports section of the day’s newspaper. Watching cricket is what he misses the most, cooped in a nursing home cabin with a few other ailing aged people. He’s characteristically calm, composed and cooperative otherwise. Everytime I hand him the glass of water he calls me “sona meye” [darling child], everytime a new visitor drops in to see him he draws his attention towards me, showering praises on me generously.
I tell him “Tumi taratari sere otho, bari fire cholo, ami tomake dekhte asbo”*Get well soon, come back home and I’ll visit you*
He sounds excited at the prospect “Nischoy!” *certainly!* “but not at the cost of your studies.”
I can only smile.
It’s time for us to leave.
He has been telling pishi about a dream he had the previous night. Both Pishi and Pishemoshai are God-loving people and he speaks about seeing his God in his dreams.
Pishi petulantly pouts her lips and asks him to stop dreaming. He can only smile indulgently.
Then he says “Tomar jonyo koshto hoy” *I feel sad for you*.
I can see she’s near to tears but she looks ever so affectionately at him and consoles him.
He hears about my Maa’s decision to stay with Pishi for a couple of days and animatedly exclaims “Such a sweet sister! Such a sweet sister!”
He holds our hands in both his hands, he is not willing to let us go but he is one of those few men who never complain.
We leave him sitting with a newspaper, propped up against a stack of pillows, wrapped in a blanket and an air of sadness and hope.
I wish you get well soon Pishemoshai.
crazily rants The Mad Girl at 4:33 AM
Thursday, January 10, 2008
The road winds like a persistent question
Through shadows and regions of light.
Huge mansions and run-down slums
Peer from either side.
Men stop to look up from their works
And women lean on doors
with children in their arms
As the morning light peeps
From behind dark, gaunt concrete giants.
Young green leaves sprout from the crevices
Of their weather beaten bodies
Little children finger the patterns of light
Carelessly painted on the paved street.
Ancient streetlamps sputter to life
When twilight comes in soft unheard steps.
For a while the aged daylight looks
At the hazed yellow halo around the lamps
And retires with slow tired footsteps.
Let us walk on that road, hand in hand
Through curtains of mist and cigarette smoke
And in the fading light, let us get lost.
crazily rants The Mad Girl at 10:31 AM
Sunday, January 06, 2008
I never thought I'd enjoy doing this so much. I loved doing it, thanks to you Zahid and Mr.Jiffy. I tag all you visitors.Here's what you have to do if you want to do the tag.
1.Put your music player on shuffle mode.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the name of the song no matter what - no cheating!
IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY?" YOU SAY?
You fill up my senses –Annie’s song- John Denver.
Hell yes! If It’s that special someone! and if it follows that special question!
WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
But it rained-Parikrama
Well it does!
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
If tomorrow never comes- Ronan Keating
Yeah, yeah yeah!! I love depth and people who think about death.
HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Ab na jaa- Euphoria
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
May it be- Enya
Yes, a promise lives within me now aand I will overcome the night to see the sun rise.
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Mora saiyaan- Fuzon
Well this is very romantic and I’d love a romantic story to be my own…but that doesn’t top the motto chart.
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Gham ka khazana- Sajda-Jagjit singh and Lata Mangeshkar
So true! I give people the impression that I’m a gham ka khazana. Hehe.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Tanhayee- Dil Chahta Hai
Nope. Doesn’t do justice!
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Pani pani re- Machis
I tell you this is uncanny!!
WHAT IS 2+2?
Leaving on a jet plane-John Denver
No no wrong answer. 2+2 is equal to 4.
There! I am good at Math! Yay!
DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Mera jahan- Taare Zameen par
Yes! I’m my bestest friend and this is MY song!! And again my best friend is really a little sweet, a little sour, the best one could ask for. She is my world.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
A new day has come- Celine Dion
I wish I could say that!! Okay lemme be optimistic.
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Wish you were here- Pink Floyd
Yeah I believe in that.
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Piya tora kaisa abhimaan- Raincoat
Very likely! That’s what I’ll be like when I grow up…if I ever do.
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
May it be-Enya (again)
Yes! That’s what I wish. That’s what I think.
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Us and them-Pink Floyd
Haha! Them and us (me and sister)!
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Oh yes oh yes oh yes! I love my music player.
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Couldn’t have been more apt!
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?Hotel California- Eagles
WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Dard se mera daman bharde- Sajda-Lata Mangeshkar
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Bas ek pal-Bas ek pal
Wow! On both levels. If you read pal as pal (friend).[I have more than one though].The lyrics too!
WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
Mera pehla pehla pyar-MP3
Well…it isn’t exactly my ‘pehla pyar’ but I’d love to post this as my pehla pehla pyar.
Cotcha! So you thought this post is about my pehla pehla pyar did you? Haha! now you know!
crazily rants The Mad Girl at 10:45 AM
Thanks zahid for tagging me.I tag anyone who would love to do this tag.
1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it ?
There’s one on the inside of my left index finger. I was late and hence running at a breakneck speed to attend a lecture and crashed through the door [yeah hindi-film ishtyle].In the process I smashed my hand against the glass part of the door and watched blood draw patterns on the floor…while the professor kept shouting for a broom.:D
2. What does your phone look like?
It’s a sleek, silver and black Motorola C168.
3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?
Pinkness and blankness.
4. What is your current desktop picture?
A cloudy red evening sky, expanding over a placid lake. I am not particularly fond of this picture.
5. Do you believe in gay marriage?
Yeah! why not?
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
Everything to get right.
7. Are your parents still together?
Yes. Very much so.
8. Last person who made you cry?
A relative of mine.
9. What is your favorite perfume/cologne?
There’s isn’t one particular brand.
10. What are you listening to?
If tomorrow never comes-Ronan Keating
11. Do you get scared of the dark?
Only after I watch a horror movie.
12. Do you like pain killers?
Yes and no.
13. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
I am completely unpredictable! *shrug* So I don’t know.
14. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
15. Who was the last person who made you mad?
16. Who was the last person who made you smile?
Oishee, my two and a half year old niece with her funny blabs.
17. Is someone in love with you?
Maybe yes. May be no.:)
crazily rants The Mad Girl at 10:27 AM