Friday, January 18, 2013

Life exhibits


My life in bits and pieces here.

1. The paper pattern I made for Daniel's new knickers.
2. Old blue salwar cloth from which I am re-cycling his knickers.  
3. Trusted old orange handled scissors, I stole them from my grand-father way back in the early 90's.
4. Seminar issue, a symposium on Kerala in transition, because Kerala in transition is fun to read about, ha!
5. Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, Ismail Kadare, translation work in progress for D.C.
6. My notebook with the kadare translation, almost done, phew!
7. Grimm's Fairy Tales, we read before we sleep. 
8. Trusted old worn out Oxford English Dictionary, close companion and translation partner since 2002.
9. Flipkart bookmark I love. Your bum has fallen asleep on the toliet seat.
10. Knitted woolen socks, because its chilly here. 



Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Mommy-brain

One little monkey boy, 
the tiniest little monkey boy,
 cooed, looked at my face, smiled.
I melted away.

Sunday, November 04, 2012

digging old graves

A trip back home and a dig into old diaries might make you wonder why that twenty something was 'sad' and 'brooding'. Perhaps that is the trend in your twenties, to brood, and to write poetry that drips off sentiment. Looking back at myself in her twenties, I see no reason for her to be so. She probably didn't knew what life's struggles actually look like. Well, don't I sound old and wise as the thirty is just a year or two away! The twenty something used to write good stuff though, whatever peripheral sadness she was going through then, say in March 2008, what was it, where was I, what emotional conundrum was stuck in, I recollect not. But there these lines, on a 2008 diary... the words surprise me.

So desolate,
a brooding eye,
crushing my dreams
and hugging my breath.
Perhaps,
only perhaps,
a wind might teach you
how to dance in the rain.

Friday, October 26, 2012

experienced wisdom #302

Never underestimate the power of extended family in the success of a marriage. The bond between a man and a woman thickens when they bitch about the same relatives from both the families.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A blue night

He walked slowly; his legs swayed suggesting a drunken gait. Sloppy is all one can call him with his random guffaws bordered with a stubborn sense of pride. A moment he is talking to himself and the next moment he is talking to a lamp post. The way he looks deep into the soul of it, you can say that they are having a deep conversation. That was when he met the street dog, interrupting his conversation with the lamp post and tugging his trouser edge.  The dog had an unassuming shade of blue to his eyes. He said to the dog, “You awe wery pwetty, my dear”. Then he held the dog in his arms and wrapped his tie around the dog’s neck. “Where do you live, Big Guy?” The dog squealed in negation, and he assumed that the dog was homeless. “Let’s Go”, he told the dog and they walked to a far faraway place. This was the day when he quit his job on a whim.