kala kutta!

I wag my tail, hunger begets life
We've been walking all day long, no rest, no stop
Yet I seem invisible to you, still, I wag my tail
Whenever you glance at me

I pounce upon your enemies, gnarling, rabid like
Expect nothing, well, some bits of your food would be heavenly
yet you ignore me, shooing me off with sticks and stone
i am a dog, after all

Yet I seem invisible, after all, I'm not your designated pet
I came to you by design
your coming was an accident, yet you choose to turn away
deliberately
viciously

tonight, I enjoy my bone, the one I picked
your collarbone seemed worthy
you did not ignore me
but you blinded yourself from what i was to say
walk with me, I will protect you - you blind, deaf, oaf!

now, I, the ignored dog
chew upon your collarbone, as you lie motionless.
the swig of your cold, dry blood now satiates my hunger.
thank you, o' Creator!

Just like the rain

In a time when the ship was rudderless, without a mast, but with some heading towards the promised land, You came by, reminding me that You were watching all these time, waiting for me to ask.

In a time when I endlessly asked, why? You never stopped me, instead, offered me new questions to be asked, new horizons to be found.

In a time when the throat was parched, You offered a chance to make better use of it instead of just drinking, but to sing your Glories, no matter how much it croaked, You smiled. 

In a time when I fell hard, you made it harder, with a chance to learn from it, and grow.

In a time when others needed some comfort, You helped ease their pain, and let me be a part of that upliftment, no matter how small the deed may be.

In a time when the bullet was next in a game of russian roulette, you helped me put down the gun, and laugh about it.

Just like the rain, rejuvenating the Earth below my feet, by just thinking about the moments we shared on the journey which I am still taking, you help ease the pain a little. 

I'll be bugging you a bit more this time around, and no more excuses of not being able to listen. 

That is all I ask of you. 

Just listen.

And like the rain, rejuvenate us all.

Rest in peace, my friend, and Guru. 

Phobia!

Tell me, o Wise man of the mountain, for I have a question

See I have come from somewhere quite far, just that you being so close

I delayed it on purpose

Ignored you

But now I come to you, seeking wisdom, seeking for answers

Answers, for questions I'm yet to ask even myself

By now, the Wise man on the mountain, lets call him Bill, looks up to me and says:

Homie, you came just right. Surprised I call you homie? what do you call someone who dwells in your heart all the time, and listens to you all the time, without a word of disrespect or rejection?

I nodded, and asked him back:

Homie, now I've got a problem. See, I think, I have some sort of phobia in....

Oecophobia? asked Bill

No, I love my home. 

Nyctophobia? 

No! I just turn the lights on

Homie, I was kidding. You have....panphobia!

Pan fried what????

Panphobia! you're afraid of something, but know nothing. Generally anxious, nothing substantial.

No, I mean, yes, o' great man of the mountain Homie! See, somehow, nothing stays with me in life. The minute I start to put some decent effort and TLC to it, poof! it vanishes. Saying this, my head goes down automatically and a gush of acrobhobia kicks in.

Dude, can I call you that? I say you got Panphobia, and maybe specks of other different phobias, but deep inside, you've gotta come over it man. Tell me more....

MOTM (Man of the mountain), for example, this girl I fancy....

Parthenophobia! He screams

No! Listen....

I say hi to her, she looks right through me

Maybe I'm not just good enough for her

Damn it boy, its your first time out

For starters to look at you is like winning a bout

Smooth lines and expensive gifts

Classy cars and shopping trips

Wining and dining in posh establishments

Credit cards and fancy equipments

Gold, check! Cheque, check

Just as I was getting to hit the bass line, MOTM nudges in...

Alright stop! Your rap, sounds like crap! Now get on with it boy. 

So yeah homie, i do nothing of the things above, instead, I offer unconditional, unparralled love. But I got this jitters man, that I'm not good enough... 

By the time i got the last line, mountain man is no longer there.

Instead, he left a note.

Dear Homie,

Nice talking to you, but i too, have Onomatophobia. Fear of hearing you say fear again. Till you get over this, I'll be reachable at the following number:

1-800-I dont give a shit.

Regards,

MOTM

PS - can you like give me a cooler name or something? MOTM? Bill? sheesh.......

Sajna re!

ah, the peace and quiet, sometimes, can be taken for granted, for a ride.

It's been close to 3 exhilarating weeks now. The warm fuzzy feeling inside.

I've got so much muck trying to wrap around me at the moment, like a warp trail, circling me in a tight noose, but this feeling, this warm fuzzy feeling, keeps me going. One cannot complain of the timing of all these, perhaps, another episode to learn something out of it, most so often misunderstood and ignored.

Warm Fuzzy feeling. WFF. The source?

Must it be a person? Can't it be a thing, or an incident? A gesture, perhaps, or a song listened in the distant past, a leaf fallen just on the right side of the shoulder, may even be a smile, or a brush with a friendly pet at the stores.

For now, I'll leave the source all mixed up. It is actually more complicated than what is above, but generally can be defined to an amalgam of all that is there. Positively.

Come back, o' source of the WFF.

last bits of being 30

Here I am alone in the office waiting for the kids to go back and thought to myself why on earth am I not attempting to put in any form of punctuation marks to this post but then who the hoot cares right I mean what is there is no punctuation marks at all will it really make a difference that will change the way it has been for me the last 30 years of existing and coexisting with all in the universe so beautifully created by god which happens to be the most misunderstood word in the entire collection of dictionaries around the world but what about the others who can't speak or rather living creatures who don't speak the language we humans do and what about people who can't understand languages at all in other words people who are audibly challenged and linguistically challenged but by the way this post was about me looking back in reflection of what has transpired in my life for the past 30 years and see where it has come up to.

Just like that. No punctuations.

Fast.

Confused.

Where, what, who, when, why, how. Arrange them, place the right words next to them, put them on nice little placards and ask anyone the answer.

I know...... it's never going to be answered the way you want it.


Happy birthday kid. Time to learn to put those punctuations where it matters most.

-Plain Joe

dancer's bells

is it too much to ask for?

silence, stark, heinous, nauseous

i looked back with no hope nor joy

till i heard the dancer's bells

dancer's bells

breaking that silence, tearing it apart in motion

like little daffodils swaying on a windy plain

i now see light, stark, beautiful, joyful

dancer's bells

with every tap springs forth a rhythmic landscape

inviting all into a dream state, never ending

it spirals, controlled, cushioned, comforting

takes you straight to folded arms

home sweet home

the universe speaks through you

a new language, made common in the fabric of time

present, past, future colliding with ease

remembering long lost embraces

a state of ecstasy slowly enveloping all who are present

dancer's bell

a window to the universe

a connector of souls

a manipulator of time

Cultural bliss!

It was supposed to be an evening of two dudes hanging out, culminating with a trip to watch a show, a friend's graduation dance ceremony. It ended up in a bang. Here's what happened.

We started off with tea at aJesh's place. Nice cuppa bachelor's tea (hot water, tea bag, some milk, speed, efficient, tasty!) and in all, about 30 minutes of freshing up time. We were all set to head out to Brickfields, our agenda being only 2 things : Some good food, and hopefully, a good show. Hopefully, since it is the first time I'm heading for an arangetram show ( a form of solo dance performance, done by the student of Bharatanatyam (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bharatanatyam) )

A good 20 minutes after leaving Ampang, we reached what is affectionately known as little India. aJesh pointed out that it should be called little Chennai, as there are no north indian elements here. He was not being pruddish, but simply practical. Anyway, we headed next to our main stop. Temple of Fine Arts. Home to two of our agendas. Food, and Dance.

Call us ignorant, but its a blissful state we were in at that moment. True to it's word, Annalakshmi's doors opened right on the dot at half past six, and we walked in, to be greeted to the sweet smell of indian food, fresh, spicy, pungent, delicious, divine.

A good hour later, stomachs full to the brim, our mind was set on one thing. Dance. Not us, we would have made a complete mess of the beautiful state of culinary bliss we were in. The dance was to be performed by a friend, on her first solo dance act. Sort of like a graduation day performance. We didn't know what to expect, this being my first time there for such an event, and aJesh's first one in Malaysia.

We led ourselves into the hall, took our seats, waited for the lights to dim, and then, it took us on a magical ride. A ride, we will both not forget.

See, as a dancer, my friend would have had enough experience from her days dancing Odissi (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odissi), but this was a different laddu to savour. One, being a graduation performance, she would be literally put to the sword. Traditionally, dance scholars, historians, renowned peers and who's who from the dancer's circle would be there to witness the occasion. Of course, we both do not fit in any categories mentioned, but we were clueless, ardent rasikas of performing art, in any form. Hence, our excitement here was proportionate to a kid having his first candy floss after having his tooth pulled out for bad cavities, aged 4.

Stage was set, musicians, heavenly on its own, all played live, by some top notch artistes, started the night, setting the tone for what I reckon would be an evening of cultural bliss. aJesh couldn't believe he was here, in Malaysia, savouring everything that is his homeland, Swaziland. No, India. Indian food, a performing arts temple aptly named the Temple of Fine Arts, hospitality that took him back there, the sarees and chudithars, it was mind blowing for him. Then came the Pièce de résistance , the music in the hall, and the sounds of bells clattering from the ankles, signifying her as a performer, ready to enthrall the crowd, and to come out as a full fledged performer.


And she did it with aplomb. Technically, we were both as lost as a monkeys learning physics in Einstein's lab, but the common things performers look out for and feel were all there. Dedication, feel, devotion to the arts, all were literally dancing in front of us as one whole unit. 


By the time we were done with the show, awestruck and literally blown away with the night's proceedings, we prodded off gingerly, taking with us that our hope, and prayers, for a friend, who's graduation dance turned out to be a blast, blossom into a performer with the humility to learn more, teach to anyone, and strive to become part of the cosmic dancer in union; a union of spirits, a union of mind. 


To Shalini, SALUT! 


PS - as Ajesh puts it, this being your graduation performance, must not be labelled your best. Greatness must not be limited to only one such act. It must encompass your legacy. That, will be your greatest show.