Thursday, September 30, 2010

Falling Slowly







I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along



From the movie 'Once'. One of my favourite songs and something that perks me up all the time. 
The video is here.

What are grudges

Grudges are just reminders to hate another person.

What a waste of time and energy it must be to spend time remembering old hurts. More than ignorance, a bad memory is bliss.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

If Thou not...


Love's Philosophy


by Percy Bysshe Shelley


The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle -
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea -
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?



Really. What are all those feelings worth? I love how Shelley compares nature and our desires.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

The Price of Individuality

Why do people let themselves or make others compromise on individuality? What do you have to celebrate then? And when two people can't celebrate each others' quirks, how are they in love at all?

Looking for Corny




"I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life" ~ Iris Simpkins to Arthur Abott in The Holiday

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Clasped Hands

We stand in front of the cupboard 
Discussing evening clothes

He hopes for something black
I play with strands of yellow
We munch on bhutta 
when the weather expects us to be home
There is silly whispering
as we hold hands and walk towards the comic store
I love the language of roses
and psychedelic wallpapers
He gifts me a mix tape full of Japanese musicals
I twirl the lace curtains till they lose shape
And when I wake up
there is nowhere else I'd rather be
I am the reflection in his eyes
and the reason for his morning smile


*bhutta is an Indian word for corn on the cob


**Dedicated to two people who make old-fashioned love more believable





Quote of the Week

A teacher's job is to make herself redundant ~ Prof. Amita Sehgal

Sunday, September 05, 2010

What we are meant to do

Rains do wonderful things to you. While I sat sipping hot soup and nursed a cold over the weekend, I kept going over and over a line that I had penned a long time back. Nature gave me company in the form of a virus and a fabulous window view.
I spoke to a music-loving friend of mine a few days back and we both agreed that all music lovers want to stand on a stage, scream out to a 60000 strong audience yelling out their name. In retrospect it was his and a lot of music lovers' nirvana.
It was then that I took stock of lives around me. And then I wrote the line that is adorning the blog heading since yesterday - " We all are artists, musicians, writers, dancers. Everything else is just a way to pay bills"
I believe this line wholeheartedly. In another discussion, a friend and I spoke about how art is the way to meditate. And in creating art we are giving back the most to the world. Whether discovered or not, creation of art is the closest thing to meditation.

Friday, September 03, 2010