Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Don't wire me your life. I need to know every detail. No, I will never get bored; unless you do.


I met you in the evening today; just after the rains while you were smoking by the lamppost on one of our commonly favourite avenues. You only saw me as a ghost.
The dark brown beads knit by tribal hands, worn for a little over a year now, spluttered. Oh, the portentous action of cleaning the nape.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Experiments III & IV

I'm here this night. Leaving the pen to the table and eyes to the sockets.
I'm still shaken. Yes.


So, all of life is one bizarre cardiograph, huh?

Friday, August 27, 2010

I want to toil with an artist too. See the work through days and nights, watch-keep the exhibitions, if not sell and sleep sound on my bed each night.

If not, can I direct my scenes and not movies? Please? I promise they will be as good as a photograph and the "a picture is worth a thousand words" adage. They're going to be gorgeous, mind you!

I'll have a lot of ground rules for the shoots. Starting with - The artists will have to have to bear real relationships with one another (I can't bear the thought that they will only be acting the intensities of the scene). It wasn't my inspiration but, something like how the Miranda July film, "You and Me and Everyone We Know" was done.


My blog is like a Sony Ericsson phone!

(I have absolutely no basis for this thought. I was thinking about another post - the one above this) and this struck out of no where. I like how it sounds :D)

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Why. This life is boiling down to questions and answers.
Why. Don't you make an effort to think over the science.
I need a Godfather. The thought of dying without letting anyone know what my mind was capable of. I need to tell him all when I find him. He will smile at the end of it. And make me feel bad, by passing away right before my eyes after the only time I'd ever spoken to him.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Experiment II - Photographic

Other sand,dust and beings breeze through the streets, museums and monuments that once saw our feet. And how we have no framed memory with us in it, but a few ones (without us) on the 2GB memory chip of the 8MP camera, typifying the place and nothing really more. And how we weren't those darling tourists, scampering about lawns, vantage points and impulsively coordinated places, trying or getting that perfect shot of themselves or others of theirs, knitting a memory woven into all that was not theirs. We still aren't. Doesn't matter, really. Just thought I'd write it down.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Two Mensa Men

One took pride in being a man from the West Coast, and the other in wearing the Iyengar forehead.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Experiments with Sand

Like sand on time,
you stamp your heart with mine.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Einstein on the Beach

The semblance of the NITK beach;
its lighthouse
and benches by the rocks.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Liberty, equality, fraternity.


The Spaniard said, "You don't think like someone in love, you see like someone in love."