startling banals

29 January 2006

Doctor Zhivago

Doctor Zhivago
Makes me wonder if most great love stories are about loss, hardships, struggle that stretches a person to his/her limits. Out of Africa still remains my favourite in this genre. I like to see it over and over again for the great life of Karen played by Meryl Streep and also to satisfy my own childhood nostalgia of Kenya - a very beautiful country of wonderful people. All the things - the pears, bananas, huge spinaches, fragrant bee-attracting pineapples, the sand-lined undulating coastal roads, the red-volcanic-mud-lined roads near snow-covered Mt. Kenya, the jacket-crows, the tapioca "mogo" wafers with red chilli & lemon sold on Lighthouse road in Mombasa, the white beaches, the blue-green sea, the centipedes that had turned an abandoned cement quarry into a jungle, the rain, clouds, even the huge ghost-like baobab trees.. seemed to be flowing with life. Don't find anything comparable here in Boston, impossible to relate to the people, the place, the way of life or anything at all. Everything is dead, on steroids, identity-less, homogeneous, impersonal and sterilized. I never was so much compelled to ask myself desperately, "What do I want in life, Why am I alive?" - not even in my days in IITB when I wanted to quit "education" and start a school. But there are a few things I like - teaching undergrads, lectures of some really great professors, no more hostel mess food - we cook at home and the company of classmates from so many different countries. But I miss my hostel life, friends and home. Saw a movie yesterday - "Rang De Basanti" in a theatre packed with desis. I have developed an intense dislike for budding NRIs - seems that the worst sample pieces in India are annually packed off to the US. Maybe it is just the loneliness and the fact that I don't belong here. I belong to Powai, Thane, Bombay and some part of me still lives in Mombasa.
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Bombay haikus ~ Nov 2004

At Flora Fountain
Traffic stops - Looking left and right
Dog crosses road

Marine Drive quiet Diwali morning
Calm sea whispering to the rocks
Like some Himalayan stream

Diwali Sunday morning
Deserted road from VT to Fountain
Am I in 1950?
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28 January 2006

IITB suicides

IITB suicide
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27 January 2006

Children of Heaven

Children of Heaven
by Irani director Majid Majidi. Saw Baran earlier. Both superb films.
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11 January 2006

In-flight fun

Chubby friendly white girl child
Rests small hands and cheeks on seat looking back
Measures whatever anyone gives her with a tape
Effusing contented laughs
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Foundations by Leopold Staff

I built on the sand
And it tumbled down,
I built on a rock
And it tumbled down.
Now when I build, I shall begin
With the smoke from the chimney.
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winners from 's online haiku contest

winter twilight
the snow owl's
changing face

Stepping stones litter
the water's edge, promising
a pathway beyond.
-Jo Anastasiadis

A springtime surprise...
Cocoons open in the rain.
Two wet butterflies!
-Lori McDade

The moon of my dreams
Appeared on the sky and lit
your soul and your eyes.
-Rafael Furlong

On top of a hill
a man watches the dim sky
if it brings more hope.
-Imre Zsoldos

her dark reflection
ripples through the lonely night
robed in memories

The sun is sleeping
to make way for the cool night
and the winds that blow
-Sophie Elisabeth Jackson-Lee

on every icicle's tip
a drop
of sunlight
-Alexey Andreyev

spring breeze--
the pull of her hand
as we near the pet store
-Michael Dylan Welch

The warmth of dawn lifts
the valley's misty blanket
to reveal her charm.
-Michael Costello

Morning flower wakes,
stretching open its petals
and greeting the day
-Sharon Hope
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Great Blog

one million footnotes
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08 January 2006

Something Silly

Aware of the moving fans
And the curtains responding.
Lie down and feel the creature
Living in your body.
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Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being"

Saw the movie first..
Started reading the novel (was listed in favorite books by Kaa in his orkut profile)
Always to discover that the book is always better than the movie, but watching the movie first is always helpful.
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02 January 2006


The wine we really drink is our own blood
Our bodies ferment in these barrels
We give everything for a glass of this
We give our minds for a sip
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