Hey You !

  In a world  where books are gradually becoming passe and reading is becoming boring , it is probably a rare sight to see a mother and son duo at the Book Fair.... It was always an "outing " I cherished especially at a time when Chibu was growing up...Never mind the dust, the overwhelming crowd,the jostling ..looking for books and clinching a bargain was a whoop! The first book I bought for Chibu was probably "Hanu Singh Daktar" and of course then came "The wind in the willows" ...the never ending stories of The Mole and The Badger and the Toady!!    So going back  after almost a gap of 6years was indeed strange. Chibu is grown now and I am old (!!) at 48..but it was a birthday I enjoyed after a very long time with Chibu and the books! The fair was well organised and almost dustfree..missing was the fountain and the BenFish stall ..and the huge pool with lights of the fair reflecting on its stagnant water. But the pavillions were air-conditi

Fairy tales.....unspoken words....celebrate a sunshine day with friends.....for today the nook where we meet is open....

I re-read this poem after many years in a compilation of poems by A. Parthasarathy of Vedanta Academy. I happened to read this at a time when a colleague of mine is going through a very difficult phase in her life....I could not help but wonder if this will be a balm for her bruised soul..While searching the net came across this in a blog by "Intelligent tree" ( thanks to you , i could copy paste the poem)   Even This Shall Pass Away  by Theodore Tilton   Once in Persia reigned a King,  Who upon his signet ring  Graved a maxim true and wise,  Which, if held before his eyes,  Gave him counsel at a glance,  Fit for every change and chance.  Solemn words, and these are they;  "Even this shall pass away."  Trains of camels through the sand  Brought him gems from Samarkand;  Fleets of galleys through the seas  Brought him pearls to match with these;  But he counted not his gain,  Treasures of the mine or main;  "What is wealth?

Academy of fine arts Apsara Theater-er Mamla Went to the theatre after a long long time....It was really a wonderful afternoon- warm mellow winter sun on our backs as we trudged through queue. Was surprised that people still throng the theatre. The play was Apsara theatre- er  Mamla..a Charbak production, directed by Sabyasachi.  I don't remember reading the story, so I liked the"remix"!! It was nice to see Kheyali, made me remember her journey from  "Tenida" for our school production.  Wonder what her son is doing now!  It was an outing with Bhaskar I enjoyed after a long , long time...cos these days we hardly go out together!

The fleeting chill, the cold foggy mornings...the oh! let -me- stay- back- for- 5 -more- minutes- in -the -quilt feeling ...wish they would be here for some more time. Never mind the cracked heel and the chapped lips, I love winter.  I remember the foggy cold mornings in Delhi when we had to switch on the heater to get Chibu ready for school...Chibu hated going to school and his usual excuse was " ma, baire ta kemon kemon korche"...and I would swathe him in 4kgs of woolens and a monkey toopi :))))  and tell him impossible tales while the Cobra blared "retreat ! retreat!" over the TV, part of the GI Joe rigmarole which was an everyday affair to distract Chibu from breaking into tears!...We would put our hands inside the pockets and blow smokes into those foggy mornings ....try to peer through the mist and walk safe.....Would look forward to the first ray of sunlight and keep holding on to the hot cup of tea till forever...for a tiny touch of warmth...... But I sti

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VW9ciJcEauw&ob=av2e Winter has tucked in the village And blankets the stables Young hearts warm up in the tavern There's food on the tables REF: He and his Wilderness Mistress Are dancing like mist inside a waterfall Glowing with pride in the darkness Kiss in the mist inside a waterfall But rumors, like wind-driven snowflakes Are spreading and falling Starlight on frosty lakes shining So crisp and enthralling REF: He and his wilderness mistress Are fleeing like mist into a waterfall Glowing with pride in the darkness Kiss in the mist inside a waterfall A wagon rolls into the moonlight And snowdrifts along a winding road stand tall Hoofbeats still clatter around the hills Carefree and wistful as a waterfall Night snow has left a new blanket Erasing their traces Bravely they wander together With spring in their faces REF: He and his wilderness mistress Are dancing like mist inside a waterfall Glowing with pride in the darkness Kiss in the m

Actually, the day and night turned out to be fun....Like old times..Adda till 2in the morning- dissection, scandal mongering, philosophizing - interspersed by eating and ending with shopping - totally therapeutic. The thanks goes to Nandini and kaku who cooked the yummy kebab and biriyani and raita for us!!! And to Mohua and Tuntun...for the joy of  companionship which has remained intact over the years.

Going out for a night out with my hen -gang!! B calls it middle age desperation..of reliving the pyjama parties!! But for us it's fun! .The others are fancy free- but I leave behind a grumpy hubby and an unkempt house!! But do I care? Nooo!!!!! might as well have a good time while it lasts!! 

The song just played in my head ..all through the day!!

Sometimes you don't lose  a person..may be he or she is out of sight and may be out of mind....but when you connect you begin from where you had  left..years back!! Words match words,laughter matches the laughter and tears are shared! And you can complete the unfinished sentences, read the unspoken words and connect in your thoughts. Has it ever happened to you? If it has would like you to share the wonderful experience...For me it happened when Pradip reconnected  after 30 odd years. Ironically, he thought of me when his mom was no more..maybe  he wanted to share the feeling of void cos I too had gone through the same situation and have a single parent to look after...at times cling to!!! Strange how we connected over tragedy and had parted ways when we began our respective  journeys .....a happy one at that...!! Well I guess that's the marvel called life..the unpredictability that makes you smile in tedious times..:))))....

Dirty picture was like a  peep show into the life of an exhibitionist...a person who believed in excess and reveled in it....but in the end it was a lonely life ..was it because she was a woman? or could she have gotten away if she were a man? after a long time I was feeling the fire of feminism..I thought I had settled down comfortably with my role play finally...an average wife( my opinion) , a hopeless mom( my son's observation ) and a terrific daughter ( my father's point of view).....but then what's the outcome of living life on ones own terms? of rotting in hell and your detractors roasting in the bonfire ? Of calling the shots ? ..Is it good bad or ugly? I won't know really !! Cos though I am tempted to know..I chose the middle path of mediocrity long ago...cos mediocrity= sanity..!!!

Memories can be so comforting at times, taking you back to  a time when you were safe , lived in a safe haven and the world was as prefect as can be. Last evening we all traveled back in time ..me, lessie, lali , bulun. It was like going back on a time machine....to a world when make believe was real. Lessie believed that the house helper was a gangster.....and lali believed that their neighbor actually had treasures buried....pots of gold!!!! We all had our own imaginary world...we surrounded ourselves with characters who bordered on fantasy..Looking back it's a shame we grew up..grew old and older.......I never could relive vicariously again...I  will always hear the bird calling out  saying "I'll never be young again...."

A page from my old diary.... Vik's picture on the mantle....the chipped frame..those eyes that followed..eerie... An end of a relationship,,or a beginning  to a new life? It's like a never ending story.....I wont know..I wont know!!!

http://www.divinecaroline.com/22323/34969-andy-rooney-forty Andy Rooney says: As I grow in age, I value women who are over forty most of all. Here are just a few reasons why: A woman over forty will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think. If a woman over forty doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting. A woman over forty knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of forty give a hoot what you might think about her or what she’s doing. Women over forty are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it. Older women are generous with praise, often un

The daydream believer lives in her cocoon of dreams...aspirations..The sanctuary!! the cocoon never breaks ..caterpillars don't turn into butterflies...and dreams do not fly away into the ebony darkness of the  night....

It was reliving ma's going all over again....Bulun kept saying it's not true...she's right..death has this surreal reality of enveloping your senses...of giving you a feeling of watching a movie in slow motion..removing you from the scene  and making you a spectator....maybe it's not happening to me.....till you realise that the person is gone forever...you will never be able to touch her, hear her....she is a part of your memory..till she treads softly again in your dream....

another beginning , another end...the last few years have been all the same...work, home , travel...good times and bad. I wonder what do you look forward to? I stopped making resolutions long back...never kept them..so they are like outdated currency..stored for posterity...of no use...!! I don't know why I am sounding so dark today....may be my hay wire hormones, may be cos I am bored..may be have nothing better to do...

Hey you, out there in the cold Getting lonely, getting old  Can you feel me? Hey you, standing in the aisles With itchy feet and fading smiles  Can you feel me? Hey you, dont help them to bury the light Don't give in without a fight. Hey you, out there on your own Sitting naked by the phone  Would you touch me? Hey you, with you ear against the wall Waiting for someone to call out  Would you touch me? Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone? Open your heart, I'm coming home. But it was only fantasy. The wall was too high,  As you can see. No matter how he tried,  He could not break free. And the worms ate into his brain. Hey you, out there on the road always doing what you're told,  Can you help me? Hey you, out there beyond the wall, Breaking bottles in the hall,  Can you help me? Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all Together we stand, divided we fall.....Pink flyod