For Us

If you abide by love, that which is irrespective of the recipient, 

that which affirms hope and manifests smiles, 

and that which connects you and me, I think, for time unlimited, 

the world will continue to bud, bloom and blossom, but never blight.  

Of Filth and Wealth

I am going to need a handful of Oregano to digest the unexpected developments of last week. The young, carefree minds that work in the fields of my mother’s native saying they don’t know who Trump is would register as uncommonness. While the same minds travelling to the nearest town to exchange their invalid notes of ₹500 and ₹1000, the possession of the latter being extremely rare, is the most common sight today.

Billionaire Trump rising to the top of the most powerful country took many by surprise, and Mr Modi’s announcement of demonetization hours before a midnight recorded a tremor of 7.3 on the Richter scale in the Indian subcontinent. While the poor who live in houses not more than one-storey tall escaped the quake, the rich who touch clouds if bored fell down spectacularly, although a bit tragically in their own eyes.

There are many Indians – notable economists and some others who don’t drink their morning coffee without The Hindu – who welcome the PM’s move with predictions of long-term benefits for the nation. And then there are others – Trumpish minds – who remain silly and naïve and ignorant and characteristic of all such synonyms that Oxford could give you, and painfully talk of long queues outside ATMs and create memes to ridicule this move.

And about this Trump, what he could do, no one can say, because, well, he himself doesn’t know. But there is some vague, indecipherable sense of satisfaction smiling deep within me at the thought of this win. A fleeting feeling of schadenfreude. All those relatives who have a natural awe for even the American illiterates and soggy minds would pause a minute to reconsider their admiration. Wouldn’t that be awesome, to see a false sense of respect become nothing in so little a time?

Now then, if you still have not exchanged your notes, join me tomorrow outside ICICI, Adyar at 9 sharp. Let us joke over America’s decision while progressing in the queue.

Basket of Fruits

Staring at Caravaggio’s Canestra di frutta prompted me to shake off the heaviness of mind and lightness of body to get to my writing desk with determination and zeal.

Oh! Who wouldn’t? Just look at the summer fruits so carefully plucked and jumbled in a wicker basket. Oh! How I fear the basket might tumble down from the edge of the ledge it has been so carelessly perched upon.

I can imagine the liquid essence of the fruits, crushed out by my molar, sticking onto the walls of my mouth with a tenacious and eye-closing sweetness. Though at first sight the painting is very attractive and tempting, a finer eye (that I lack) would discover the hidden imperfectness detailed in so brilliantly and intentionally – blighted leaves developing from the stems, the skin of the fruits mined by moth that I would have ground out of jealousy, the especial grapes ripe beyond what is natural and glistening with hyperbole, and the texture of peach that looks too hard to bite.

Maybe the master had such a basket with such fruits laid behind his canvas. Or maybe he wanted to convey the underlining mistakes ingrained in every creation of God – of either the mind or body – subtly hinting at what life is through this still-life.

Or maybe we just have to move on after our mind is satiated upon repeated viewings of this art. Too much thinking, though it brings perspective to the table, might well taint whatever was the original purpose.

If there is one thing I am granted to covet, it would be not a fruit from that basket, but the empty container itself. I would want to keep its fragrance intact for all my years, at the corner of the writing table I am now sitting at, so that it inspires me to keep writing through the thick and thin of so imperfect a life.

 

The Prodigal Writer

‘Ancient‘ may mean a lot. Nokia 1100, Yahoo and Barack Obama after this November. But presently, to me, my writing here has become ancient. My followers I am proud of are not finding new words on my site, thanks to my weakening will. Some poem I wrote a long while back is receiving likes from people who had by mistake stumbled upon it.

I know for a fact my will is shaking at the knees, ready to buckle down anytime. And this is why I made it a point to type today. This random collection of words may not make meaning to you, but finding the time, and the elusive creativity, to open WordPress with a purpose is meaningful and gratifying to me.

I may sleep today without the guilt that blankets me every day I don’t write. Nevertheless, I must mention, my eyes always close upon a mental promise to write something the next day. But tonight is different; the will has resurrected and the blanket has been shredded.

My writing is no longer ancient. Let’s call it contemporary cult.

Thanks for being a loyal reader; I don’t know why I am saying this, but I want this to be a post from my heart.

THREE DAYS, THREE QUOTES CHALLENGE # DAY 3

If you abandon your book as clumsy after the first draft, then that is the clumsiness on your part. Your tenth draft is what is going to hit the stores.

~ Original

Further, I would like to nominate the below 3:

1. Fathima
2. Urvashi-Maru
3. Megan

Rules of the challenge:

1.Three quote for three days.
2.Three nominees each day(no repetition).
3.Thank the person who nominated you.
4.Inform the nominees.

Sunshine and Word Mine

Thank you for nominating me for the Sunshine Blogger Award, Confabler. Thanks to your wordy creativity and my own fortunate chance, we found one other on this platform and since then have been nothing short of supportive and encouraging.

Now, the answers to your questions (that strangely demanded insights into myself):

1. If you were to choose an insect that would take over the world after human extinction, who would that be? 

An ant? Ants are industrious and responsible. After human extinction, I strongly feel ants can take perfect care of our world.

2. How old were you when you first read Harry Potter? And your favorite author of course?

I remember reading my first Harry Potter  in my eighth grade (I know it is late… isn’t it?), but I have been watching the series on Pogo’s May Movie Magic for a long time prior to the books. My favourite author is Jeffrey Archer. No one who has read him can disagree with me.

3. If you were invisible what is the craziest thing that you would do?

Would head straight to my library and remain seated there on the aisle between stacks of books; though I know I would have a very hard time pulling books from their places without making people around me think the books are moving on their own.

4. What food makes you feel like a hungry hyena?

Anything that is off my mother’s stove. In particular, hot and thick Dosa with spicy tomato chutney (Coriander-sprinkled).

5. A song that makes you dream?

If you want one immediately, I would settle on Sangathil paadatha kavithai (its Hindi equivalent is Gum sum gum).

6. Have you ever planted a tree?

It is embarrassing to say ‘No’, but thank you, your question has made me want to plant one soon.

7. Choose your man: superman/ Spiderman/ iron man and if he was your best friend one thing that you would make him do?

David Carradine would shout his life out for Superman, but I will go with Spidy… only since your options lack Batman. Uhh, if he were my best friend, I would ask him to milk more cash from Jonah Jameson and secretly click a photo of him when the guy is irritated. I like JJ when he is irritated.

8. How much time do you spend in front of the mirror everyday?

Being a man, I think I can get away with 5 minutes of mirror-time. (How much do you spend?)

9. Why you started blogging and tell us about the post enjoyed the most making.

Started blogging because I wanted to share my words with more people, and importantly, with people who are avid readers and are equivalently passionate about writing. The post I most enjoyed making was, and will remain so forever, Thy Eternal Summer shall not Fade. It is something personal.

10. Which social media platform are you addicted to (including WordPress)?

Facebook (‘addicted’ would be an overstatement, but I spend time here that I don’t later regret.) WordPress would qualify perfectly for an answer to your question.

To take this further, I would like to nominate the following writers:

1. Twinquill (Urvashi and Mansi, reply individually!)
2. Success Inspirer 
3. Little flame, I don’t know your name
4. Fathima
5. Shreeka
6. Selfdestructo
7. Venandi Vita
8. Foodies
9. Bhavana
10. Mahiself
11. Jia (If I can ping you back…)

The questions I want you people to answer:

1. What is that one book you keep going back to?
2. Do your deem your existence worth recounting in a biography? If not, why?
3. What is your taste/genre in Cinema?
4. Any sins you are proud of?
5. Any achievements you regret?
6. Do you see yourself as a successful author in future? If yes, then of what kind of book?
7. What are your 3 most favourite blogs on WordPress?
8. According to you, in a line, what is the future of Indian writing in English?
9. You must be moonlighting as a writer. I am sure. What is your day life, and how passionate you are about it?
10. What is your one-word description of yourself?

Thanks for following me and being a very sincere reader of my posts.I take this opportunity to say I loved your blogs to the same extent, and that I scroll down my Reader page on WordPress with eager expectations of reading your new stories.