LaCaballo

If this is how, it ends

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Wed, 09 Jan 2008 04:23:00 +0000

Exhausted
Of all the thrashing around,
I rest
Seems much quieter now,
Just the sound of a slow death.

They pull my body out,
Drag it to the shore,
Puzzled to see..
A smile at the corner of my lips
And water forming strange patterns
On the contented face.

Was my death atleast, poetic?

Bach, you bluffed me!

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 14:13:00 +0000

Standing alone on the shore, I think of how you've been a part of me since you took shape in that midnight dream that left me shaking at dawn, how you grew up on me since that day, how you conjured that smile on my face everytime i frowned. I did not even need you to hold me tight when i was tense, just the thought of you beside in some parallel universe calmed my nerves.
I was ready to live out the infinite lives, until now.

Amputation

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 29 Nov 2007 10:07:00 +0000

You think I'm foolishly letting my wings get slashed,
You dont realise that they weren't enough;
Enough to reach the heights I dreamt of!
Sure I'm humbled by the loss,
But in the loss lies my only chance to hope..

Tangerine??

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 07:46:00 +0000

Tangerine

You are a beautiful person, in a wistful kind of way. If you could, you would spend all your time daydreaming and writing poetry. You are a tragic beauty.

You are sensitive and caring, and you don't take insults well. You don't smile much, but when you do, you really mean it.

People like to be around you because you are a calming influence. You have an appreciation for all things beautiful, and you probably have some potted plants. You also most likely own a cat.

You like Sundays and hot tea. You will spend your entire life yearning for quiet beauty, which is a rarity in this world, so you read a lot.

Everyone you know thinks you're "nice."

Take the Which Led Zeppelin Song Are You? Quiz

Goodbye my friend...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 17:52:00 +0000

I lay on my bed typing while you pack your bags in the next room and I’m still not able to believe that you’ll be gone. Three years… seems like an awfully long time.
Remember the morning we landed here? Our first coffee in Barista, Our first walk in Banjara hills, Himalayas, Central, Odyssey, Prasads, PVR… I never dreaded that there’ll be a full stop to that life, just seemed to last forever.

Tears well up as I try to think about the times we had together, Is it because you won’t be there? Because there’ll be none to listen to all the crap I say without judging me, there’ll be none to drag me to barista and pep me up after I flunk yet another stupid exam, there’ll be none to stay quiet when I’m in a sour mood, there’ll be none who can be as thoughtful as you..

We’ve seen so many leave hyd, carrying along some share of the fun we had,
To think that, in a few days you will too,
I’ll miss you subbu, very terribly…

Just the way you like..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 10:37:00 +0000

There were no clouds that evening, stars shining bright,
Just the way you like,
You told me when i told how i love the stormy sky.

I would stare at you sleeping tight, plant a kiss on your lips,
Just the way you like,
You told me when i kissed your cheek.

For that drive, I wore the blue gown with the earing you bought me,
Just the way you like,
You told me when i wore my favourite grey.

When i lay down at the end of day,
I would tell myself that soon you'll be gone,
And I'll return to my very old self,
Enjoying stormy skies and wearing greys ..

But now you leave,
taking with you all I had for myself..
Now stormy skies only make me long for the stars that you so loved,
And the greys are hardly appealing.

The past..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 14:29:00 +0000

I’ve been measuring life at the end of every day since sometime; days and months are rolling away without anything to look forward to… No extraordinary hopes and no expectations. I feel I’ve lost the drive somewhere along the way slogging nights off at work, watching the 10 episodes of friends that I have on my machine a hundred times over.
These months have been trying, personally and professionally… there has been much introspection, at whose end I’ve been rating myself way below where I thought I stood. Too many problems at hand, I find it convenient to shelve them away in a corner and walk around as if they never exist, trying to fool people around that I’m the very same though I know I’m only fooling myself.
There’s been hardly any inspiration to write. Haughty dreams and words that follow seem to be humbled down by reality. Been pushing myself to write, since it’s been a relief quite a lot of times but things just didn’t work right.
I was walking home when I spotted Venus blinking in the lonely sky. It brought back a rush of memories, of home, of college, of the friends I’ve lost. There, I 'm drowning in despair again…

There i go again..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Wed, 16 Aug 2006 11:13:00 +0000

I know not where I read, that writers are often individuals who have nothing in common with the world around them. I'd always associated it with my belief that when you begin writing, perception of the world becomes so different that you are left alone stranded with none to share it with. Only now it dawned upon me that it's very much a reversible process, when you are forsaken by the very world you believed your own, writing becomes a vent.
I'm marooned.

Back in the field, both blogger and me

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Sat, 22 Jul 2006 05:37:00 +0000

When i started blogging, few posts turned out at the spur of the moment, thoughts poured out hot on the mould. But many were patiently assimilated, thought over and penned down before getting typed on that screen during one of the breaks at work. I've always believed that the frequency of my posts would exponentially increase if i had a home computer. Posts will always be fresh, not edited with a rising skepticism over time.

Writing had never been difficult in the beginning because no one read it except me ;) When people were left with no choice but to read and comment (coz i'd either flooded their blogs with comments or pleaded with them to give a feedback) I started getting conscious about what i churn out. I've consciously kept myself from writing opinionated posts since i didn't want to lose the few readers who have "struggled" to stay.

Not that i didn't know that its easy to forget even a good blog when you don't see it updated every day.. I just couldn't get myself to write on just about anything. Shantaram was once significant happening during this time that i took a break, one book that kept drawing me back to it even when my eyelids would droop down at the end of the day. Also, wrote quite a bit for a travel contest that created quite a hype. They seemed pleased to mail me every day that i've been shortlisted, though my name figured nowhere in the penultimate round. It was quite surprising to see all the travel biggies of blogdom shortlisted for the contest, now when i think about it, i didn't even deserve those consolatory mails of being shortlisted.

Well, incase you were wondering why all the introspection now, all the build-up was just to say that i'm back, alive and kicking with a home computer!

Dream and a nightmare

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 20 Apr 2006 12:10:00 +0000

Stormy sky
Cold wind
Damp wood
Melted Candle
Failing battery
Empty fridge
Only me

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Mon, 17 Apr 2006 10:58:00 +0000

The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. St. Augustine of Hippo

Some super cool stuff!

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 09 Mar 2006 12:57:00 +0000

What looks weird in one angle, look like this in the other

She's said it all...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 02 Mar 2006 05:23:00 +0000

Annie Zaidi writes Streets,Stories,Strategies on what thats safely left out of discussions owing to its unpleasantness.

The Journey...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Tue, 21 Feb 2006 09:00:00 +0000

After journeying a day and a night in bus and train I'm at home. Travelling alone in the Andhra heat and the appalling Chennai weather was never amusing, I always hated it since the first time i had to travel a few hours in the Unreserved compartment , sharing my seat with three other ladies, i counted every minute till i saw daddy's face in the station.

This time i told myself that i'm going to make it different, i resolved to observe things positively even if its an eunuch asking for money. When i was thinking about the book I'm gonna carry along, i immediately chose Chasing the Monk.. I knew that Pico Iyer describing the clean and serene Japan wasn't going to be of any help when i'm travelling through some of the dirtiest places ever. Mishi travelling through the heat and dirt of china would blend well with my little travel and give me a solace if nothing else, i thought.

I boarded the train with a light bag, fearing how heavy its gonna get on the way back, found my seat and settled down. It was early evening and the fans only circulated the hot air around, i looked around to start a conversation.

Everyone around was equally discomforted by the heat and the thought of the journey ahead, their faces clearly told so. I looked around to see the man on the side berth silently wiping his tears away biding a farewell to his father on the platform. The dude opposite already burried in a copy of Outlook, a old man anxiously waiting for the TT to check if his berth got confirmed and few others who blended into the rattling noise of the train.

I took the book out wishing a better weather and a peaceful journey. I think its the colorful cover of the book that attracted the people around, almost everyone who sat around wished to see it, though none seemed to be interested after they read the preface, the old man asked me if the Monkey king mentioned by the Chinese historians was related to Hanuman and if the book is full of such stories about the Monkey king. Well, he'd reduced a mighty travelogue into a simple fantasy tale.. I was amused by this thought, smiled and attempted at the simplest explanation i could give, i could see that he wasn't interested when i revealed that the Monkey king credits no further mention in the book.

The gentleman seated opposite was still burried in his Outlook though his eyes silently followed the book as it was passed on, but never gathered the courage to ask me for a glance of it. After a while i tried smiling at him thinking it would encourage him to ask for the book, he never looked up and i held on to the book tightly and started reading it before another one was going to ask for it.

Mishi turned out to be a typical journalist writer who never straitlaces and constantly tries not to exaggerate things that might have nevertheless pleased her. Her opinions about China were painstakingly neutral though she loves the country and states her interest in it. Every piece of information was adequately researched with enough details that tempts you to follow the trail.

It was Summer when she started her journey following the trails of Xuan Xang, and the weather utterly miserable... I looked out of the window and smiled to see the sun setting already. I read while i ate the dinner i had packed, covering food with the book to prevent the tiny little insects diving into my food. If non-vegetarian I'd prefer it cooked.

Its always an early bed in train, if you aren't traveling with a bunch of friends. I closed my book soon after i saw everyone on their berth stretched out already. I shut the lights off and closed my eyes. Sleep always escapes me when i deliberately want it and i tried day dreaming about some pleasant things that'll eventually bring me some peace if not sleep.

It was late in the night when a mother and her young daughter rushed in the compartment and stood near my berth, the mother saw me awake and asked if she could sit in the edge of the seat. I needn't tell what a pain it is to sit in the seat sticking your neck out. Not able to sit like that any further, they spread whatever they had on the floor and lied down only to be woken up by the harsh words of TT asking them to leave at once. I was watching everything without uttering a word, simply because i had nothing to say.

There are very few matters on which my opinions aren't binary, this one such. Trained reached Chennai late as destined and i grabbed my baggage to get freshened up for a journey by bus. A prepaid auto took me to the bus station, i realised i have to take a minimum of three buses to reach home. Boarded the bus thinking that i should blast dad again for staying in such a God forsaken place, Well..you don't get lignite just anywhere...

I was waiting for the migraine to pop up any moment as i swallowed chocolates without tasting them just for a few calories that might take me a step away from a headache. I had an hour of travel left when my head started aching, i mused it wasn't bad afterall.. there were times when i had it throughout the journey. I didn't bark at dad when called and said he cannot bring the car..

When the bus dropped me in the middle of nowhere owing to some festival in the village nearby i didn't expect dad to be there, forget the bearhug and the car. A bath and food was all i could ask for. When i finally sat on the couch scrubbed and fed, I couldn't help counting the days left to start back to Hyd. sigh..

Another ridiculous fwd.

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Fri, 03 Feb 2006 09:44:00 +0000

There's been a lot of forwards flooding my inbox, mainly from b'lore before and after the murder of a call centre employee. I wonder how the B'loreans keep such a network and are so immensely kind to pass on the words of wisdom to every id in the addressbook. Even as i write this post i get a mail with the subject: Pass this on to 10 people, save 10 lives...

But there was this highly amusing mail that i received a while ago, that i just couldn't resist sharing. Well, as expected you'd have it in your inbox long before you read this, but what if you've deleted it just like i always do??... It deserves to be read.

Stuff in Italics is my work and those in bold were bold in the mail i received.

"With the incidents happening around us and the crime that is been reported we can SAFELY say that each day is getting worse in our good old garden city. Under this situation we will always have a question in our conscious mind which asks us AM I SAFE ? No one can give you an accurate answer to this .... (Ofcourse none can, you expect people to guard your posterior every second???)

Crime is like an accident which we can meet up with at anytime. (True, Very true, words of wisdom)

The best way not to meet with it is to follow the doctors proverb "PRECAUTION IS BETTER THAN CURE" (think he realised how bad he is in making up quotes) Crime happens only if there is opportunity given to it or when there is chance for it.

A few tips that can definitely help everyone,

1) Avoid speaking to people whom you don't know (Are you serious? Guys... this is damnation to all the casanovas in the garden city)

2) Avoid late night parties (this guy's highly frustrated)

3) Do not mix drinking with your wonderful ability to drive (One point i agree)

4) Avoid taking ladies to the late night parties, if you cannot avoid then try going in groups (Who goes to late night parties without ladies, and that you've asked to avoid booze... Better not have them then..What? he mentioned this before.. brilliant!!)

7) Avoid taking short cuts when going out in the nights. (Bangalore and shortcuts? That itself accounts for a joke)

8) Avoid restaurant/dhabas in the outskirts of the city as these are places where anti social elements usually hang out (Kay, I better become anti-social before i hang out there.)

9) Report incidents to the police if you feel it is the correct information that you are providing to them. (When do you know its correct?, like some inner voice telling?)

10) Make sure you inform any one before you visit them late at night and also specify time frames (Unfortunately, I'm single. Can i have your number please)

10) Couples in love please please avoid meeting up in lonely places.
(Guys, do all that you do in Lalbagh in Forum n Central now. God save you from the Moral Police)

11) Avoid arguing with auto rickshaw drivers and also when you find people who are fighting on roads (it could be a trap) (C'mon... I'll lose a thousand a week if i dont argue with them)

12) Avoid having personal and friendly conversation with taxi drivers, auto rickshaw drivers , Cab drivers (Specially women) (Another MCP!)

13) If the driver behaves suspiciously/ rudely try to divert the vehicle to some public place and then immediately get off. Inform the transport department and your manager. (I bet anyone would do this..)

14) Women make sure that you are carrying something to protect yourselves such as a bottle of pepper spray and also make sure that you are wearing a jacket or a shawl if you are not escorted by a man whom you know. (I just can't understand the place of a jacket and a shawl in this situation, What do you with them,strangle the offender?...)

Duhh.. kay, pissing

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 02 Feb 2006 11:41:00 +0000

True, I shouldn't be exhibiting this much of disgust towards the very system that keeps you and me alive to name the post so.I'm being clearly drawn towards Libertarianism these days, I very fiercely guard my own space. I really wish i could claim a square metre around my feet, wherever they are, to myself dry and stink-free.

But ofcourse, there are heavy chances that its going to violate someone else's right to protect their private space. I earn enough to live the way i want to and i very much want every one else to live so atleast not to bother me with charity. You shouldn't mistake me on this, sincerely I do care about the under-privileged though i care not, to spare a penny for that wooden legged old man near the bus stop who's ready with blessings that instantly turn to curses if you pretend not noticing,about that madman on the streets with matted hair who digs in the garbage (our street that is) for something edible though there's not a time i passed him without thinking about getting the number of an asylum.

I live in the 21st century and am very much an agnostic as every other person is, except when there's a really serious issue at office. If there's one thing that upsets me in this country, its pissing in public.

I've had quite a few pals who would make a face when they see someone spray paint a tobacco stained bunch of painstakingly painted blocks, while they themselves wouldn't hesitate running their zip down even when the public toilet is just a metre away. Its unhygienic, they try to justify. Well, if someone's piss is unhygienic for you, so is yours for everyone else. I'm tempted to get into gender difference here, but i rather not make it more stinky.

I'm getting too much into this dirty business. Though you should understand that I'm not againt all the slum dwellers defecate on the rail lines and the rock crevices.. They do it there simply because they have no other place to do it. Its only these gentlemen who go on a high watching Madhavan die in Rang De Basanti and come right out of the theatre and look for a dark corner to piss that bother me. Duhh... that accounts for a spoiler alert. Preetha, i hope you've seen the movie before reading this ;)

The Girl after Manticore's secret??

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 19 Jan 2006 05:25:00 +0000

Been a long time since i'd really posted something here, as always been reading blogs voraciously though i just don't seem to convince myself to sit and write about all those i wanted to write on. This Indibloggies thingy got me really excited in between and I had a bunch of favourites too, and to much of joy they won.

Reading blogs has been a lot of fun, especially that of the journos.. you actually get a glimpse of the casual side of the otherwise serious writers. It was through blogs that i actually got to know that Samit Basu, author of the Simoqin prophecies(SP here on) and now released Manticore's secret was going to be here on the 18th Jan.. I made sure i was present just to get a glimpse of the person whose blog i love reading. I hurriedly bought SP the week before and i made a promise to myself that i wouldn't go there without reading a book of his.

The book turned out to be more than what i'd expected, for the serious reading that i claim to do, it was a refreshing change and as i turned every page, the author surprised me with yet another weird character that left me musing about how he really could have conjured them up.

Its made me giggle in the middle of the night, a loud freaky one thats generally not welcomed. At the end of the book, the initial curiosity of meeting someone i read was long gone and was really excited about meeting someone who thoroughly entertained me through his amazingly offbeat book. Looks like i'm using more adjectives than the number of characters in SP.

I've written quite a number of words and i still have not reached the finale.. I, with some friends reached Odyssey pretty early, where the reading was scheduled, and duly complained to the manager about 10 blank pages in the SP i'd purchased a week before that very well robbed me off the hilarious climax ( well, atleast i thought it was after watching the Dark Lord rise in IMAX).. and only let him go after he promised me that i can exchange it.

As I was looking around in all directions to spot the author with a nice round halo behind his mighty head, i failed noticing the bong gentleman in a nice kurta(very much bong again).. and when he actually took the chair, i had this weird expression on my face that even i couldn't quite comprehend.

He was probably disappointed by the meagre crowd, and he voluntarily took breaks from the reading to answer the questions thrown. And i was there sitting in a corner and wondering if i can really conjure up a brilliant question,all that was coming to my mind were stuffs that he would have answered a thousand times(well.. atleast a hundred) then i decided it's a futile attempt anyways and pushed aside the thought and listened to what he said and read.

After the reading, we got ourselves introduced( us no big shots, we have a friend who knows the author) , told that i read his blogs and left. Well not exactly, lingered around and overheard him suggesting the manager that they should get Sonia Faleiro for a reading, and i was all ears before my hunger took over.

Hearing and seeing Sonia read would be great, she's one person i really admire and her book's gonna be delicious.. But before that lemme get a hand on The Girl and keep my fingers crossed.

The Season's here..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Wed, 07 Dec 2005 13:24:00 +0000

Season's greetings everyone!

All for a cause..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Mon, 28 Nov 2005 06:33:00 +0000

Ask me how it is to live without a television for almost a year and a half. I gape at the commercials in the railway station,stare at the people discussing all the, "Oh,so cute" ads, and am completely hopeless in guessing if the lyrics is tamil or telugu in any easily forgettable item number.

Even after all this, i still hate the soaps with my heart,body and soul.Well, we watch movies once in a while, which is becoming fortnightly now.. but i really miss out on the Ads.

All that i know of Ads are the Best and Bekaar of Brand equity. But i still convince myself that TV would eat up all the so called quality time i spend sleeping/chating. Having consumed all the reserve book stock i'd saved.. you don't expect me to do anything else, do you?

I better buy some i'd marked before i start reading the classifieds. Well, where was i? Ahh, the television. I decided to stay at a friend's place yesterday night after a long tiring day to watch some TV.. My luck or fate whatever you call it, there was this AIDS awareness programme with most of the South Indian stars brought together by the stunning Richard Gere.

Except for the few lines that the oldies spoke, the youngster's weren't given the mike at all and looked pretty satisfied to do the regular skinshow dutifully. Richard Gere was very convincing with equally good efforts from many of the actors. But there were some pitfalls that were so deep that i felt like burying myself thinking about Richard Gere's impression on the Stars and the fan following here.

I was appalled at an actor's analogies at one point of time. With a lot of HIV positive crowd in front of him, an actor who suddenly remembered that he's a doctor offered to explain some points to create an awareness. He explained that detecting HIV at an earlier stage is like a Life sentence and at a later stage would be a death sentence("hanging", as he mentioned).. I had no words for his prudence.

Another's full fledged praise for Mr. Gere ended with a line saying,"We all deserve to be his fans"... Uhhh... Did I miss something here? Well, I can't blame him coz almost everyone on stage were fumbling for words with the radiant presence of Gere.. I wouldn't have uttered a word if i were there, I swear!

My salute to Dr. Suniti Solomon for tactfully reminding the stars to not let go off the momentum even after the show. There was a beautiful perfomance by some HIV positive kids, all so lovely... and some songs composed to create awareness. Everything was so beautifully done except...

Except for the few dance numbers that made me wince in shame. It was not a Film festival for God's sake!, it was for a noble cause and all the minimal dresses and the disgusting choreography brought me back to the real world after every good account on AIDS awareness.

Now Richard Gere has tempted me some... but when i think about the songs and dances... Nope, NO TV!

Why i remain illiterate..

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Tue, 18 Oct 2005 08:59:00 +0000

An early monsoon this time, brings along with it some heavy downpours, cleaning up the streets a bit, if you have a paved one that is. Better if you have a garden or atleast some trees in the vicinity. The leaf blades sparklingly clean and a morning that doesn't need a plaster on the nose from the dust spray that makes you think seriously about noble deeds like skipping shower and water conservation.

If there's anything that upsets me in this season of joy and freshness, its nothing but a running nose and to add to the effect,a slight temperature. Incessant complaints from mom that i do not consume enough vitamins has not done any good to my immune system. During the daily gab with mom, she found that i caught a cold and i innocently(damn!) bluttered out that i have a temperature too..

Used to (f)hearing her lectures about popping in tablets without consulting a doc, i readily agreed to visit a doc the very evening, won't be a big deal i thought.. just a 5 min halt on the way back home. I was greeted by the wardboy cum receptionist at the hospital which looked more of a marraigehall with all the lights(who said patients shouldn't breathe in the festive air) who gave me a "Patient datasheet" and asked me to fill it in his Telugu/American accented English.

Sighing at the thought of filling up mine to dad's details i started it nevertheless and handed over the completed form, with the same amusing accent he asked me for a two hundred and fifty five rupees. I thought i probably didn't mention that i was to consultant just a general physician and not a cardiac...

I repeated the same only to hear him say that the money was for the registration and consultation, which would additonally give me free consultation with any specialist valid for 15 days from then. Now did I hear that right?, They treat me for my disease and tempt me to fall sick while i pop in the medicine.

Guessing right from my expression, he mouthed,,, "if you don't want to take up this offer then the fee is 200", Where the heck am I? In a hospital or a local departmental store? Cursing under my breath i apologised for the waste of paper( a glossy one unfortunately, here's where a good percentage of my fee would have gone), and walked out.

In the very pharmacy i bought some antibiotics and a paracetamol to escape the fever.

The Blonde and my dreams

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 29 Sep 2005 06:04:00 +0000

Everytime i shrink, thinking about the expeditions I'm dreaming of and the chances of them becoming real,one particular frame or rather few frames come alive and enliven my spirit.

I clearly remember, my eyes hooked on a blonde, particularly worn out and tired, asking for a room in the guest house while i was just exiting for a walk by the sea. Seeing a foreigner was not so intriguing in a place like Pondicherry, i've actually sometimes wondered if they outnumber the indians in the white city. This lady, i could see was not at ease as the others,whose eyes reflect an unusual peace and contentment, which i've never seen elsewhere.

I slowed down to eavesdrop. The ashram volunteer at the help desk shot a needing look at my side.Pleased,i moved towards them only to hear the lady speaking in a tongue that i've never heard of. All my linguistic skills boil down to telling apart spanish as spanish, the meaning was never under my comprehension.

She managed to convey that she wanted a bed for few days, all by signs while continuously mouthing something that we could hardly decipher. She sounded pleased when she was handed the ledger and signed it, gleaming.

I walked out wondering what made her travel so far without knowing any of the local languages here(local spells - english, french, tamil, hindi). I so badly wanted to talk to her and know, atleast in her sign language... what gave the guts to embark on this journey. But i could never spot her again, for all my stay.

I now realise, she wasn't there to share her adventure tales with me... but to freeze in my mind as a pillar of strength and hope which'll keep reminding me not to let go of my dreams.

The Acceptance...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Fri, 16 Sep 2005 08:19:00 +0000

Sincerely.. I want, no one post of mine to be the best, for all of them are my reflections, my shadows under the massive tree called Moods, round the clock..

Everytime time i attempt to break the silence, i remind myself not to confess through my words the inconsistent being that i am. But words hardly pay a heed..

They emerge when they feel like, not realising its lunch time..not letting me get off my seat, prompting me to concede..

And i silently concur, flabbergasted at its command over my being, over my thoughts and actions..

Those little pieces of a puzzle that stubbornly refused to appear when i badly wanted them to, are synchronizing now, teasing me of my inability..

I gracefully surrender myself before their celestial powers and secretly gloat inside, pleased with my fortune..

For I'm their humble tool to let the world know,

"Words cull writers from the world. They reveal themselves to us. They colonize us. They commission us. They insist on being told."

Inspired by Arundhati Roy.

Until that day...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 18 Aug 2005 08:41:00 +0000

Not long ago, I was feeling so inferior when Sthiti could express all her emotions over a li'l scrap of paper and when i wanted to do the same, I always went to shop, continually cursing the makers for not producing just what i wanted to say. Writing what i felt never occured to me even when most of my friends wrote very often.

Blogging has worked wonders. I now believe that i can write what i want to say. It also has given me this urge to write my perception of things that's often drastically dry. Nevertheless, I've come to express it anyway. I started becoming a little more observant to the things happening around me and often find myself twisting and turning happenings into some decent reads.

Not that i aspire to become a writer, but it gives me some pleasure that i don't get through anything else that i regularly do, Ofcourse my ramblings wouldn't mean much to me without you guys reading and commenting on it.. It definitely is a value addition( Word Courtesy:Appraisal sessions)

Often when i'm in search of things that i would write about, i invariably end up thinking that i should may be do some travel writing. Thats how two of my greatest passions, travel and writing fused, now driving me to do things that i would have never dreamed of.

I now want to travel to the darkest forests and the bluest seas and write about the dark mid-days and golden sands.
I desire to reach to places inhabited and not.
I want to breathe in air that i've never inhaled, see flowers that were never on my botany book.
Stay in a roadside inn, sip a cuppa coffee and watch the sunrise in my modest window.
Hitchhike a ride up the mountain and get down half way to puke.
Reach out to a stunningly beautiful flower and make a face at its disgusting smell.
Talk by signs for months together in a strange place and move to another when i learn the language.
Visit monastries at an unimaginably early morning hour, dressed in saffron robes.
Enjoy the ant chutney exclaiming that some idli along'll be heaven, till i know what its made of.
Tear off leeches sticking to my skin.
Taste the sweetest water i've ever drank.
Walk across the deepest valleys of Tibet, milking Yak for a coffee.
Get lost in an expedition to explore the Pyramid.
See an Anaconda in its natural habitat.
And let my rucksack fuse to my back....

One day I'll smile that i've realised every single dream of mine and retire to write on them never running out of topics ... Until then I'll keep musing only about my unfulfilled dreams. Please bear with me.

Yet another attempt...

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 06:48:00 +0000

Decided my next post will be on a light note long back, but as usual i just can't write what i intend to.. I start writing about something, and in the end, when i read i realise its come out quite in a perspective that i couldn't have thought of. Sometimes it looks amusing and most of the time, miserably flopping. Repeatedly reminding myself that this space is afterall mine, here i go zzzooommmm....

Attended a technical training yesterday, facilitator was a talking zombie, kept whispering to the board, writing some jinxes on it in such minute size that a geek sitting behind me asked hime "to increase the font size", first thought it sounded nothing different, but i was intrigued that there was something wrong in that phrase... and i was shocked to realise how this slave machine(i'm talking about the very machine staring at my face) has influenced me and the rest.... Instead of asking him to write bigger letters, we ask for an increase in font-size.. sigh... Someone save me from here.........

Barista's become my favourite hangout in Hyd, wish it was a bit closer home... wonderful ambience and a Mocha large... If Heaven doesn't have a Barista, then i don't mind going to hell... Decided to control by chronic book-buying till cat, and all the new ones i bought recently are silently adorning my shelves, tempting me to grab'em everytime my sight falls on them...

Hyd's becoming a man-hole city... so many deaths because of open man-holes,,, these days i'm being so conscious and careful that i let subbu walk in front whenever we walk across our flooded street, and specially the area we stay in is famous for its stench and sewage than Cyber towers and that just-landed-haunted-spaceship(gateway)... My area's the first place that gets flooded first, even with the minimal rain that Hyd gets...

Friendship day was rocking with mujhse-shaadi-karoge, we actually intended to watch mujhse-dosti-karoge which wasn't good either but not as freaky as the former... next day at the cat class.. we were looking like hippies with all the rainbow colored ropes(the friendship bands ofcourse!) tied around our wrists, reminds me of college when guys used to stand with a bundle of satin ribbon in their hands outside the octagon(our computer centre) attacking every female species that comes out.

"Can we be friends?",if no...."Will you be my sister?"...questions that freaks every darn female out, but you just can't get through college life without hearing these atleast once... well... Rectain brother-sister relations have a unique reputation amongst rectians themselves ;-) No comments there! Ohhh... How can i forget the Rose-day, feb-the 14th... the mama club(called step-trec by only the members) do the honourable duty of ferrying roses from the guys hostel to the girls and vice-versa...

Hardly anyone who's sincere uses this means of conveying their feelings, so its just proxies that take the centre-stage... Friends get royally senti and do their best to ruin their buddy's chances sending a silly proxy,,, most of them done purposefully coz people often had crushes on the same girl... owing to the meagre fairer-sex population.

Friendship day's always been the best especially at the hostel... with the cakes and bucket-parties.. there's nothing to beat that hogging and junglee-dancing till dawn..

Now... I was neither feeling nostalgic when i started it nor did i want to reminisce... But wanna know if it turns out a flop or a decent read....

Some rare moments

Shalini.G.Mani@gmail.com (Alex) — Thu, 14 Jul 2005 06:12:00 +0000

Life gives few very rare moments to introspect,
And those rare moments seem to occur more often during utter chaos...

Like the elation after the first drop of rain honours the skin at the most unexpected hour,
Like the first smell of rain enliven the senses at the most fatigued second...

Among the sound of hands impatiently hammering on the miserable keyboards,
Among faces frowning with worries of the past and future,

I find the moment, so divine and so pure,
Gently slipping out of my hand but filling the heart with ecstasy...

Makes you wonder at the couple of lines that ping at your distant dreams,
Dreams sylvan, so perfect and elysian to be true,

Dying to realise those illusions hidden deep beneath the facades of practicality,
Still giving the pleasure of life rather, well dreamt!

Moments that bring tears to the tired eyes,
Moments that mock at your heart exploding with contentment...
In such a moment, Oh dear Lord, take my soul !