Splat he jumped right off the raft,
A moment of silence & then a laugh,
Not once did he hesitate, not once did he think,
It was the jump he took o satisfy her whim.
Not the least bit expecting him to oblige,
She saw him look back with a twinkle in his eye,
This is to inspire you to write said he,
To clear the writer's block maybe a dip in the sea.
And as she looked around at other aboard,
Random faces looked back, but dint seem so random anymore,
Strangers she had met just a few hours ago,
Those strangers now intrigued her like none before.
He was a painter, a healer, a wanderer at heart,
With spontaneity and wisdom that set him apart.
She wondered at the mystery each one bought forth.
How different they were, but similar even more.
Each looking for an inspiration, a reason for being.
Each waiting for the jump that would get them going.
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Monday, October 01, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
I want I want I want
to backpack around the world and then on a luxury cruise liner
to see the world through the eyes of a 5 year old
to become a published writer
to go whitewater rafting, deep sea diving, bungee jumping, parasailing....
to visit Machu Picchu
to watch the 'Friends' marathon all day long
to learn to play the guitar
to get a tatoo
to truely fall in love
to become a travel show host
to get pissed drunk
to dance in the rain till i drop
to milk a cow
to live on my own
to move to GOA
to be the cynosure of all eyes
to become a painter
to know my calling...
to laugh till it hurts
Friday, May 11, 2007
Think about it!
Is'int it amazing...
...that NASA cannot duplicate the flight pattern of a dragon fly.
...that a butterfly’s life span is two days. They are never babies.They go right from the cocoon to an adult butterfly.
...that baby zebras recognize their mommies by the positioning of their stripes. The stripe patterns are never duplicated.
...that alligators lay their eggs at different levels in the ground. This action determines the gender of the newborn alligator.
...that it is impossible to be mad and laugh at the same time.
...that young children who just meet each other can play like they are lifelong friends within a few seconds.
...that NASA cannot duplicate the flight pattern of a dragon fly.
...that a butterfly’s life span is two days. They are never babies.They go right from the cocoon to an adult butterfly.
...that baby zebras recognize their mommies by the positioning of their stripes. The stripe patterns are never duplicated.
...that alligators lay their eggs at different levels in the ground. This action determines the gender of the newborn alligator.
...that it is impossible to be mad and laugh at the same time.
...that young children who just meet each other can play like they are lifelong friends within a few seconds.
Just 21 Grams!
How many lives do we live? How many times do we die? They say we all lose 21 grams... at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams? How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained? How much is gained? Twenty-one grams. The weight of a stack of five nickels. The weight of a hummingbird. A chocolate bar. How much did 21 grams weigh?
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Gulmohur Cross Road No. 8
A mélange of furniture, a medley of emotions.
Blueprints, floor plans, decisions and more decisions.
Beady eyed memories. Wide eyed anticipations.
Its not just moving house, it’s a complete revelation.
The powdery baby smell that transformed into perfume.
The posters in the room, that changed as did your point of view.
From playing with Barbies to dressing up as one.
It was the 4 walls that saw it all.
From monsters under the bed and petrified of being left alone.
To wanting ‘the monsters’ out of your room and to be on your own.
Learning to walk, skate, cycle and then drive.
The speed with which you exited the door was always on a rise.
The first love, the first heartbreak,
The first time you learnt to cook.
The first painting you made, proudly hung in the nook,
The firsts are many, the list is long,
Boxes are not enough to carry it along.
From mum’s forbidden and inviting dressing table,
that inspired a number of creative escapades,
To the cane swing in the balcony providing solace.
The secret corner where you hid your ‘dear diary’.
To the innumerable dear diary moments.
The birthdays, weddings, children, grandchildren.
There were so many, innumerable celebrations.
The new house is bigger, and prettier they say,
But its just walls and furniture till new memories are made.
A new address to learn and the old to erase,
To my house at Gulmohur Cross Road number 8,
“So long my mate”.
Blueprints, floor plans, decisions and more decisions.
Beady eyed memories. Wide eyed anticipations.
Its not just moving house, it’s a complete revelation.
The powdery baby smell that transformed into perfume.
The posters in the room, that changed as did your point of view.
From playing with Barbies to dressing up as one.
It was the 4 walls that saw it all.
From monsters under the bed and petrified of being left alone.
To wanting ‘the monsters’ out of your room and to be on your own.
Learning to walk, skate, cycle and then drive.
The speed with which you exited the door was always on a rise.
The first love, the first heartbreak,
The first time you learnt to cook.
The first painting you made, proudly hung in the nook,
The firsts are many, the list is long,
Boxes are not enough to carry it along.
From mum’s forbidden and inviting dressing table,
that inspired a number of creative escapades,
To the cane swing in the balcony providing solace.
The secret corner where you hid your ‘dear diary’.
To the innumerable dear diary moments.
The birthdays, weddings, children, grandchildren.
There were so many, innumerable celebrations.
The new house is bigger, and prettier they say,
But its just walls and furniture till new memories are made.
A new address to learn and the old to erase,
To my house at Gulmohur Cross Road number 8,
“So long my mate”.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Big City Life
It was the big city life that lured her. Till now her life was a secure cocoon.
She was always protected. Always cared for. Almost like a princess.
But now was the time to stretch her wings and fly. The world had so much to offer.
The world she had read about in books. The world in the movies.
That world was beckoning her. And she wanted to submit.
It came as a surprise in the mail. The letter that was her pathway into the unknown.
She had just applied for the job on a whim. Never once thinking about it later. But now here it was. The offer letter. The offer to live a different life. An offer into the forbidden world.
It took a lot of convincing from her friends, her brother from the neighbors for Reema’s parents to let her go to Bombay. Into a city so notorious in reputation. A city they believed was too fast and too dangerous for their darling daughter.
A city that might snatch their daughter away from them.
And now here she was 2 weeks later in the city of dreams with just a bag and an address in hand and dreams in her eyes.
Reema took to the city like the fish to water. She loved the people, the pace, the buzz, the crowd. She wondered how she ever lived in Nagpur.
This was life. These were the people who knew how to live.
This was the place where dreams did come true.
But dreams are just dreams. The morning light jolts you out of it and all that is left are fragmented pieces of memory tucked in some unknown recesses of your mind.
At first the drinking was all about trying something new. Back in Nagpur she would not even have dreamt of touching liquor. But here everyone drank.
They said it was about being social. She told herself that she drank to give them company and not for getting high. But she enjoyed the high. She liked the way she shed all inhibitions when she drank. Her friends enjoyed her company more when she was drunk. She was the fun Reema when she was drunk.
And so every night was a new party. Every night a drunken stupor. The phone calls home went from twice a day to 2 calls a month. The city was taking their daughter away.
And then it happened. A drunken brawl with the landlady landed her on the street in the middle of the night. Too drunk to know what she was doing she slept on the pavement.
She woke up to the feeling of a dog licking her face.
People looked at her in a way she could not comprehend. It was a look she did not like but had seem before. She looked at her disheveled self and her torn clothes and then out of the blue there came the tears. It was like the wave of emotions washing her over.
The same day Reema enrolled herself into rehab. She saw the same vacant look in the eyes of other imates as she did in her own. But somehow she felt safe again.
Her life had come a complete circle. She was back in a cocoon. Back to be being cared for. The only difference this time was, she no longer a princess with dreams in her eyes.
She was a princess with demons she wanted to forget.
Well this is me trying my had at Creative writing. Let me know what you guys think!
She was always protected. Always cared for. Almost like a princess.
But now was the time to stretch her wings and fly. The world had so much to offer.
The world she had read about in books. The world in the movies.
That world was beckoning her. And she wanted to submit.
It came as a surprise in the mail. The letter that was her pathway into the unknown.
She had just applied for the job on a whim. Never once thinking about it later. But now here it was. The offer letter. The offer to live a different life. An offer into the forbidden world.
It took a lot of convincing from her friends, her brother from the neighbors for Reema’s parents to let her go to Bombay. Into a city so notorious in reputation. A city they believed was too fast and too dangerous for their darling daughter.
A city that might snatch their daughter away from them.
And now here she was 2 weeks later in the city of dreams with just a bag and an address in hand and dreams in her eyes.
Reema took to the city like the fish to water. She loved the people, the pace, the buzz, the crowd. She wondered how she ever lived in Nagpur.
This was life. These were the people who knew how to live.
This was the place where dreams did come true.
But dreams are just dreams. The morning light jolts you out of it and all that is left are fragmented pieces of memory tucked in some unknown recesses of your mind.
At first the drinking was all about trying something new. Back in Nagpur she would not even have dreamt of touching liquor. But here everyone drank.
They said it was about being social. She told herself that she drank to give them company and not for getting high. But she enjoyed the high. She liked the way she shed all inhibitions when she drank. Her friends enjoyed her company more when she was drunk. She was the fun Reema when she was drunk.
And so every night was a new party. Every night a drunken stupor. The phone calls home went from twice a day to 2 calls a month. The city was taking their daughter away.
And then it happened. A drunken brawl with the landlady landed her on the street in the middle of the night. Too drunk to know what she was doing she slept on the pavement.
She woke up to the feeling of a dog licking her face.
People looked at her in a way she could not comprehend. It was a look she did not like but had seem before. She looked at her disheveled self and her torn clothes and then out of the blue there came the tears. It was like the wave of emotions washing her over.
The same day Reema enrolled herself into rehab. She saw the same vacant look in the eyes of other imates as she did in her own. But somehow she felt safe again.
Her life had come a complete circle. She was back in a cocoon. Back to be being cared for. The only difference this time was, she no longer a princess with dreams in her eyes.
She was a princess with demons she wanted to forget.
Well this is me trying my had at Creative writing. Let me know what you guys think!
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