The Fireflies and Night

Photo credit: Vishal Chaudhari

Playful fireflies under the fir,
flirt with Night's darkness;
Night's stillness insults them,
Being aloof and utterly cold.

Flashy display of love,
trying to get her attention!
And Night couldn't care less;
For her taste is grave and sombre...
For Night is of the pristine moon,
Of dark clouds, of soft shadows,
Her fancy captured by Serenity
As Silence on her froze.

Fireflies distract her calm,
Silly jarring distasteful lights!

Yet the fireflies pine for Night:
They burn themselves
trying to reach out to her,
Igniting themselves
with tacky green lights,
crying out, Let me close!
They fly about madly
for a moment of Night's attention.
The flies have their hearts on fire,
And their fault is that it shows.
And Night chooses to look through them,

Yet through Night their love glows.

The Balancing Act

Ideal and resolved
Principled and uninvolved;
A sudden skewed stroke
All resolve at once broke

Isn’t Reason supreme?
Not now anymore…
And isn’t Logic God?
Perhaps once before.

Unchained, life’s become free
The excitement of novelty!
Ecstasy on a starlit night
But scorned by broad daylight...

Something did not feel right,
Uneasy somewhere deep inside
There was no wrong or a lie
Yet conscience heaved a sigh…

Turned and looked back
On Principle’s dusty track,
Where Logic reigns,
And the Self refrains.

Slowly walked back
On the same old track,
Where Logic rules,
On righteous fools!

Evaporated

pic: Senthil


Water's spirit, resurrected by the sun,
He rises to the heavens to gather into clouds:
white and grey ghosts of nothingness,
they float, soar and sketch the horizon...
Flooding the imagination with dragons and ships
that don't exist.

He envelops disreputed places with mist,
deepening the impenetrable darkness on cold mysterious nights...
Suddenly reborn on an unsuspecting drowsy leaf,
he trickles down slowly, running a shiver down her spine,
making her toes curl.

Riding the Trade Winds,
He gallops in as the Monsoons,
stripping the earth nude of her cover
filling green paddy fields to excess
ripening mangoes until they burst
of sickening extravagance.

Through veins he carves he flows restlessly
and as his vigour is slowly spent in his own maze,
he lies undead in the sea with tranquility,
To be resurrected on sunnier days.

Rescuing Yeast

(based on an experiment i recently did...it's an ode to my beloved enzyme, and has been written in the traditional epic format, the heroic couplet, with ten syllables in every line...please excuse my nerdiness for this one)

A eukaryote, enolase devoid,
Her elegant budding with craft destroyed,
Well repress'd with doxycycline was she,
Saccharomyces cerevisiae.
Essential enolase are you gone?
In-gene-iously before you could be born?
Even with glucose everywhere around
Energy to divide could not be found!
Finally help arrived with craft, at last,
From an unlikely cousin from the past.
'Twas the terrible curse, Plasmodium,
Protozoan, not a bacterium!
The pest also had an enolase gene
But could the gene help yeast was to be seen...
Plasmodium enolase put in yeast,
On glucose Saccharomyces did feast.
With contentment did the yeast grow galore
Budding, flourishing like never before;
P. f. enolase did the job with flair
O' wondrous enzyme extraordinaire!

On The Move

Strange Beings, we are,
Constantly shaped by moulds of situation,
Transforming the alien into home...
And homes that we have left behind,
Become alien?

We incessantly forge new homes,
Conquering inhibitions and rigidity,
Opening a door where there wasn't one,
Surprising ourselves with our fluidity.

And once a home is made,
Time cruelly commands us forth,
Turning a blind eye
To all the struggle that made
An alien place home;
All of it dissolves,
And crystallizes into experience;
And past homes in memories roam.

A shot of Tequila!

"A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" - This is what reality shows have matured to in the United States while we still rot in the Roadies era. This is a show about finding true love with Tila who has the most intoxicating last name, Tequila.

Tila, a bisexual pornstar, starts with 15 boys and 15 girls, who all want their "shot at love" with her. She gives them tasks to do, like eat a pig's vagina, walk on glass (which incidentally was fake), get a tatoo on your back and other such deep heart-touching challenges. Based on their performances, which obviously reflect how much they care for her, she falls in and out of love with them, goes on dates with them, or makes out with them. In one show she was so fine with the balance of justice about grading her lovers' performances that she devised three categories of dates to reward them -the "sexy date", the "romantic date", and the "dirty date", all of which involved making out with her.

But Tila cannot keep loving all 30 of them! That would be too taxing on her! Hence lovers are eliminated in every episode, and they bid teary good-byes to their ultimate love in life. To quote one of the "jilted" lovers, "I was the one who truly loved her, she will know what she's missing, and this time I won't take her call".

In today's show, Tila brought down the number of contestants to 4, 2 guys and 2 girls. Things have started becoming serious. Now she must choose a partner for life soon. So she went and met their parents, in their hometowns, and I must say American parents are too cool: Tila dirty danced with one of their dads, made passes at another dad by sucking on a big juicy pickle and made one of their mom's show her breasts. The parents were very concerned about their children's decisions. "I am happy for them", said one teary eyed proud mom, "they look just perfect together. I hope the very best for their future".

This show shows us there is no limit to how much love an individual can have in his/her heart. It teaches us the real virtues of loving, caring and sharing. Tila is the goddess of love, the passion in her voice and the justice with which she deals with all her "lovers" would even put Aphrodite to shame.

And yes, Americans love this show so much that this is actually A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila -II

America, The First Impressions of

It's been about ten days I've been here and I think I am now eligible to write about my first impressions of the place and of course the people *grin*. They're friendly and as you enter any store they heartily ask, "How you doin' today?" to which they even expect a reply. and just to clarify, I'm NOT being sarcastic.


I received a very warm greeting as I landed in Chicago from my dad's friend Tuli Kaku, very loving Kakima and Bittu-dada. I spent my first two days in America in a posh suburb close to Chicago. Naperville was the most manicured place I've ever seen: all the lawns of all the houses looked exactly the same, all the streets were identical, even the trees were barred from growing beyond a height. The pinnacle of this artificial beauty (I have to admit the place was pretty) was the Dupage Riverwalk: a cemented walkway through the "wilderness", with the river flowing by, geese hobbling around, and even a cut down trunk designedly placed in the frothing waters of the river, to give it the wild look.

Chicago was a much more real place. The cluster of parked sailboats in Lake Michigan was a spectacle. At the centre of the city was the Millenium Park, and what amazed me most was "The Bean": a large metallic bean shaped thing which mirrors the Chicago skyline. The city was alive with people and it being a weekend, with families and kids.


Then I came to Purdue, the home of the Boilermakers, as their football team is lovingly called. As I was approaching the place I realized the consul-officer who interviewed me for my US visa wasn't joking; the place IS in the middle of cornfields. Acres and acres of cornfields. The country amazes me with it's proportions. Nothing is small here: their Macdonald's burgers, their CocaCola glasses, vast croplands, the people, all are big.

Honestly I hated my first day at Purdue, the place grew on me slowly. There were no people around, I had no friends on campus, the weather was cold and the culture-shock: Everyone sticks to themselves and tends to themselves. To give an example, I made sandwiches and I asked one of my housemates if he wanted some. He politely refused. We in India would take a bite even if we're not hungry just for the heck of it. But here this formality when it comes to stuff like food, is something I did not understand, something I took a little while to get used to.

Bright sunny days light up spirits and soon things started looking up. I started experiments and they were working, I made friends with my labmates, and one of them drove me to Indianapolis over the weekend. I met some other Indians on campus, among them a Bengali and relished a language-treat, most fulfilling. It's amazing how a little connection with home made me real happy.


I have been missing Bombay, but I am enjoying Purdue as well. Soon I will get myself a bike and my Purdue ID card with which I can go to the Recreation Centre!!!

Metamorphosis

The cocoon has broken:
Drawn by an unknown urge
the moth readies its wings...
But the windchill stings!
And oh the cocoon's comfort!

Relieving Sleep

He stared at the ceiling,

as the fan went about its business

carving out circles,

One after the other,

with perfection and diligence.

...

The lump still in his throat,

his gaze deepened into the darkness.

Paralysed, his thoughts filled the room

with delirious silence.

...

"Never give all you got...",

his thoughts spoke from beside his bed,

"...in love or even in friendship!".

A few thoughts, scattered by the circling fan,

protested, "But!", and they dissipated.

Thoughts, snug under his pillow,

said, "Just forget it and move on..."

"But I did so much!", said some selfish thought,

grabbing onto his throat.

From the open window floated in a thought,

and slowly whispered,

"Expectation? Just kill it!"

"But...", said some helpless thought,

as he slowly slipped into sleep;

And troubling thoughts slowly dissolved

into the vortex of darkness, as the fan

carved out circles

with perfection and diligence.

Coins

Shimmering silver,
Jing-a-ling-a-ling,
Coins in my pocket,
my thigh they sting...

Feeling wretchedly rich
I walk the street,
Thinking candyfloss
would be such a treat...

Crafting large pink clouds
The large old man,
Stands with a grin
at the candyfloss-van...

. . .

My coins are gone,
in exchange that morn
for that fluffy pink thing
that can't jing-a-ling!

Jing-a-ling-a-ling,
Coins we fling,
Evening and dawn;
Would we value anything
If coins were gone?

The Ding Dongs and Tick Tocks of my new Life

Old creaking doors,
In old Walton street,
The old wooden staircase,
With a knock-a-knock-a beat.

That's where I live,
By the old Gateway ground,
Where the Arab-Sea grooves
With a whoosh whoosh sound.

Neat cobbled roads
Of Colaba Causeway,
Where BEST buses speed
and go honk-a-honk-away.

That's my hang-out spot,
By the old Sassoon Dock,
I hear the horses' hooves,
go rickety-tock-a-tock.

Life's become a clock,
And I hear the seconds roll,
And I hear all sounds,
But I can't hear my soul.

To Sony

It hurts that I coudn't hug you
when you needed it the most,
But my love's the same for you,
be you in body or in ghost.

Monsoony Mumbai

finally i'm here! mumbai!!! pretty evident that i'm excited, huh? i'm trying to keep my spirits high but the rains are a real dampener...for those who haven't really been in bombay, it's terrible...it simply pours pauselessly! the longest time interval between showers is 3 min 30 sec...even in the rain, i've been out...

i'm living in colaba, quite a neat place, with the Gateway of India right around the corner! last night after dinner i went out for a walk with my roommate and there stood the magnificent structure and beyond it the Arabian Sea. Beyond the sea the indian coastline was visible as countless dots of sodium-vapour lamps...The Taj's also right there, and fuck! the cars which i saw!!! three mercedes parked one after the other...

generally i've just been trying to settle in, buying stuff and getting wet unnecessarily in the rain..thats about it...

Random Pic

This is when my classmates and I went to Himachal...The mist on the Ravi near Chamba was captivating

Thirst

Parched and cracked and grey,
Land looked up at Sky,
His gaping mouth hopeful...
Smooth and majestic and blue,
Sky looked away in scorn,
As if she didn't care a bit.

Land heaved a deep warm breath,
as if to ask,
"Don't you love me anymore?"

Sky could not but be moved.
Her bright face darkened.
Trembling, her cloudy eyebrows met
as she thundered with passionate rage...
"Why must you hurt me always?"

Land's throat became dry,
He just stared in silence...

Sky's eyes filled with tears,
Till she could no longer hold them.
She wailed, she cried, she sobbed,
As Land felt her tears
run down his scorched cheeks.
And Sky cradled him in her arms;
Her breezy hair flowed over him.

When the storm had passed,
Sky said to Land,
"Let's meet at the Horizon at twilight!"

Sky wore her best black dress
jeweled with a thousand stars
and waited all night...
Land strove to reach the Horizon
but never could...
Parched and cracked and grey,
he just looked up yearningly.

Kolkata, 18.5.07,
one of those sleepless nights

To be human...

In an effort to relieve myself
of worries, I keep aside in a shelf
my thoughts, my doubts, my relationships;
I live life stress-free, with a smile on my lips.
When I see others tensed, confused,
bothering about petty things, I feel amused,
smug about being untouched by anything.
Any bothering thoughts I can fling
onto that convenient shelf of mine, where
unattended, neglected thoughts yearn for care.
They cry, they whine, they stare at my face...
I choose to look away at a happier place.
My casual attitude and a non serious guise
are simply blatant, brazen lies;

And perhaps I have lost a part of myself
that lies hidden on that convenient shelf...

Piling on thoughts day after day,
The shelf one day might give way,
Scattered, the forgotten thoughts would lay...
And I would find the part of me gone astray,
to finish the jigsaw puzzle of myself.

Then my frozen heart could melt
touched by all the emotions felt:
Not only joy, but also to shed a tear
I could be spontaneous without fear.
Then I could worry, I could cry
My emotions could explode, as I would try
to get a grip over my emotional self
I would be happy to be human myself.

Delhi, 21.11.05

Black

You are encompassing, you are true;
You exist in a single hue.
You give company when there's no light,
Stars are studded in you at night.
You are present everywhere:
In mundane coal and in the panther's stare.
In your darkness, the planets revolve,
Back to darkness, must the stars dissolve.
You are fear, the colour of death,
Poverty's dubious morrow's bread;
But O Calm and the Patient One,
You are understood by none.
Perception is only an illusion-fake:
The colours, that our senses awake,
Red, blue and green around that we find
They are but only in the mind.
You are what we cannot see,
You are the Truth, that will always be.
You are the Universe, you are all
You are God, before whom we fall.

Dying Souls

It is murder...
To sit at home in the shade
when you can go out in the sun,
To walk along the road
when you can wildly run;
To sit and listen
when you can stand and talk,
To meekly conform
when you can shock!

Yes it is murder...
Not to wonder at the cobwebs
Though you see them everyday,
Not to try to neigh
Though all you can do is bray,
Not to spike your hair
Though they're turning grey.

Do all the things you ever wanted...
Climb the neighbourhood tree!
Jump into the nearby lake!
Yes, live your life care-free!
What use is this existence fake?

In your singular journey...
Why not stop by the shacks?
Why not grab a tea to look around and relax?
Open your mind and see!
There are wondrous things that be...
'Cause if all you can see is your goal,
It is murder of your soul.

To The Burette

(this one's for all my lab-mates in college, for those who dont know what a burette is, its on top!)

O Ye Long and Slender One
Let the liquid from thee run!
In droplets fine or a single stream
In thee even acid doth gleam!

What beauty carved out of glass!
But thou dost break so easily, alas!
Wert thou in previous birth a lance,
So erect and upright is thy stance?

With an art of numbers on thee in view
Thou changeth with a drop the hue
Of methyl Orange and Phenolphthalein;
Such clever sorcery has never been!

In thy presence nimble fingers shake,
Conical flasks and beakers break;
And although one is so observant,
One never gets readings concordant.

Forever In The Waters

I was flowing
slowly and steadily;
No strong currents disturbed
my calm, deep waters.
A powerful river, I was,
journeying towards the sea;
my pace uninterrupted and uniform.

Suddenly I felt a stir,
Clear waters became a blur,
small eddies woke me from my trance.
A shiver ran down my spine,
On my waters Love began her dance.

O Rising Sun, beyond the horizon,
You were far away, out of reach;
Yet I kept flowing towards you
over frothy cascades;
The skies blushed a crimson-blue,
as I rode the waves and rippled towards you.

The end loomed in front,
from where I took the plunge.
Into a zillion drops I shattered,
touched every stone as I fell;
And your light I scattered
into dazzling pearls and a rainbow,
which found presence in my mi'st,
In an enchanted waterfall.

As I had leapt, I did see you from close...
And now I flow again, as I once did,
slowly and steadily,
Now Wider and Deeper with experience!
You are far away, but I don't look up at you,
For I have found you within me
as your Reflection on my trembling waters.