Hey You !

Some days are mellow....and the mornings are different! I shared the morning tea with Baba..and chit chatted! The days are getting warmer and am getting ready to leave the nest! Well it's always a mixed feeling to leave Baba , who is tottering and not too well....he lives through his spirit ! The week was a blur, movies, clubs, evening out, appraisals...all merging into one another ! Saw Haoa bodol..immensely forgettable ! The songs were good though...... I guess an apt end to the end of the financial year transactions...Bhoy dekash na please :)

I admire people who can write. Stories, poems, anecdotes from life .. I always run out of words ! And wonder what will happen at the next turn? Life after all is not picture perfect  There's less of unity  and more of conflict ! I wish I could write.. Of rainbows and color bright  Of happiness and sunshine  And frivolous things ! After all the little pleasures  Come from these blings ! The  memories bright  And moonlit night  Of roses and candles And flowers pressed tight........ Of memories  Of another day... How I wish....each day ! Well another blog bites the dust :) And Robert R looks so dishy.... Two hoots to my rhymes !!

Some evenings are fun , and last evening was one such evening with Nandini turning 50 in style! She did throw a bash and lived up to her reputation of being a  good hostess !  She looked resplendent  in a  bright baluchari and kept the spirit of the party alive! Her varied friend circle had people of all ranges- including Chibu, Pooja and Rahul...who seemed to enjoy as much as we did ! Some evenings are memorable ...not because the event but the flow of the event and the fact that a dear friend celebrates a personal milestone !

The book of my life Let me watch by the fire and remember my days And it may be a trick of the firelight But the flickering pages that trouble my sight Is a book I'm afraid to write It's the book of my days, it's the book of my life And it's cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife And it's all there to see as the section reveals There's some sorrow in every life If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze Then I won't understand Ã,?'til the end of my days I'm still forced to remember, Remember the words of my life There are promises broken and promises kept Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept There's a chapter of secrets, and words to confess If I lose everything that I possess There's a chapter on loss and a ghost who won't die There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies. Though the pages are numbered I can't see where they lead For the

Still I rise ! You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past

Amid the appraisals and the deadlines the weekend was quite relaxing ! Meeting up with Anji and Pranesh for the TGIF adda was relaxing in many ways!  Went to see a dance theater called "Those who cannot hear music" - which connected Beethoven with Vikram Seth's An Equal Music. The trauma of going deaf slowly -  losing what they love the most -music and then playing the music from the head and the heart , the frenetic crescendo falling into deaf ears ...the killing silence! The slow dance movements were amazing , and the light shade exploration of dance and shadow play was quite fascinating! Yes the play could have been shortened a bit, but it was an experience worth it ! And then it was southern cuisine at Amini..a practice run for the appams and the idiappams :) !

Memories have a strange way of remembering things you want to forget and forgetting all that you want to remember! Ma in her last few months forgot the people she met everyday, yet remembered Krishnokoli , who was my "best friend" in class 5!  Best friend is a strange word really! Does a best friend remain the  best friend with the passage of time...? In school I had so many - Urmila, Krishnokoli , Runa ( in many ways) ..but where are they now? All lost in the time! The ones who were my buddies remained - we shared books and music and shared secrets and guy news ! Went  for movies, double dated,  bonded over the myriad and the silly !  The "best friends'' never lasted, but  the friends did!  May be familiarity has a way of wearing  a relationship, eroding the bond - of bringing in boredom and taking away the novelty- I guess that's there for all the relationships- there is no perfect place in life and everything has a shelf life ! Sometimes it's goo

Vicky's picture on the mantle and the eyes that followed everywhere! The eerie feeling when the candles flicker  on nights when the lights go off! The picture remains even after.. The memories are what is left ! Of little notes  and flowers pressed ....