Do not go gentle into the goodnight!

How do you retire a date?

2007-05-18T07:43:00.000-04:00

From time eternal, humans have this obsession of noting down the date and time when something important happens, be it at an individual level or at level of religions or nations etc.
A birth is noted to the exact second. Death too. Some people even note down the day they bought their first lawn mower!!!
Whats in a date? Isnt it just one more blip in the long progression of things? People are born everyday ..and sadly people die everyday. Well yes we can celebrate cherish and do all such sweet things people do, so that they can desperately cling on to a past good event, feeling etc.
The Question is "What do you do with could have been significant days"? The ones that were significant sometime back or the ones which you thought would become significan but didnt? Like the date when you met the girl who swept you of your feet and then knocked you flat on your face and left you bloodied? Or say the date of a wedding which never took place? Or maybe the date of your parole which didnt happen for a crime which you didnt do in the first place?
How about the ones where you have the big event, but it has no significance in your eyes but seems so to everyone else?
WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THEM?
You remember the date...you dont want to cherish it, you cant commomerate it. You want to pretend it didnt exist! You want it become as insignificant as the day that follows or the day that precedes. In short you most definitely want to forget it.
Day comes you wake up .....Bam it hits you....Its today...today is the day or today was the day...
What do you do then?

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Staring contest

2007-04-05T13:18:00.000-04:00

I won a little staring contest today.

Kinda like the contest an old man with diabetes has every day with the goodies in his cooler.

The goodies..they dont care.... they sit there all day in the fridge..... in all their cold deliciousness... tempting and tormenting the poor man's soul. He walks back and forth the room, thinking contemplating ...resisiting. He falters, grabs the door handle, yanks the fridge open...and stares longingly...his hand even start making the move to grab it and gobble it and devour it....

He resists.

In another earlier time, there would have been no contest...goodies 10-0 ..old man KOed first round. Well not now, not anymore. He remembers the KOs. He remembers the heart attacks. The trip to the emergency rooms..the near death experience.

His resolve strengthens. He goes the distance. He walks away grabs a glass of water....and goes back to sleep.

I won. I won against the poison seeping through my veins. I won temptation. I am sobered by the thought I had to fight so hard even now... even after remembering the heartbreaks....even after the near lose of my sanity..... Yet I won. Doesnt matter if nobody notices or nobody knows why or what I won. It doesnt matter if my temptation neither cares or knows this. The manifestation of my temptation can stay cold and comfortable in its perch laughing at its power over me..

All that matters is today I won...I will take it one day at a time.. will not give up so easily..I will not go.....

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The Maya of life

2007-03-15T14:41:00.000-04:00

Pain is pleasure.
Pleasure is pain.
Hurt and happiness
Is one and the same.

Now is then
Then is Now,
times may change
Yets themes are same

I didnt bring
Nor will I take
It was here
t'shall remain rooted here

His became mine
Mine became his,
his is someones someday,
Nobody owned, Nobody lost

She is her
Her will be she
The who will change!
Is love then same?

....... inspired by the gita

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

"Maktub" Its written

2006-12-15T16:51:00.000-05:00

The meandering journey slowly and painfully drags to an end. I am lost, yet in trying to find my way, I had kept going in circles. Like a man in a maze, I convinced myself that it isnt the same thing which I have happened upon ten times. I somehow missed the- red keep me straight- strings I had tied on my way in.

So now, I listen to the same song in endless loop trying to figure out a way in breaking the concentric circles which constrict the arteries in my heart. Vague disquiet, calmness, and restlessness all coming up in waves. One moment am mad as hell, next moment am calm as a river.

So it is written. The shepherd must leave the bakers daughter. The moors call. Yet the head turns back one last time to see if she runs to me from behind the curvature of the arid land I leave in my wake.... I make a mental note to myself...this is the last time you will look back........

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra
The title and theme alludes to "the Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho.
First drafted on dec 12 2006.....published first on 2 feb 2007

Breathless

2006-12-12T14:01:00.000-05:00

Breath of life, O My sweet breath of life,
Thoughts of you, Oh These thoughts of you,
Why is it in air that I breath?

Breath of life, O My sweet breath of life,
Song that I sing, Oh This song that I sing,
Why does it spring from your fragrance

Breath of life, O My sweet breath of life,
The ecstasy of first love, Oh The Ecstasy of this first love
Why does it freeze my lungs,

Breath of life, O My sweet breath of life,
Will my hands touch thee..Will my eyes see thee,
Will thee let love blossom?

Breath of life, O my sweet breath of life,
I lost my life blood whilst
I stole your heart,
I lost my life blood whilst
I stole your heart,

Breath of life, O My sweet breath of life,
To gain that I lost, I Wish to see thee
Will I see thee again?

O my sweet breath of life, sweet breath of life....

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Translation of the Song..."en Swasa Kaatre" from the Movie with same title.

Breathless

2006-12-12T12:57:00.000-05:00

The relationship between us and the air we breath...can we call it love? ..isnt the connection more deeper than love...

En Swasa Kaatre

en suvaasak kaatRae suvaasak kaatRae neeyadi (2)
un ninaivugaL en suvaasamaanadhu aenadi
naan paadum paattae panneer ootRae neeyadi
mudhal mudhal vandha kaadhal mayakkam
moochchuk kuzhalgaLin vaasal adaikkum
kaigaL theeNdumaa...kaNgaL kaaNumaa...kaadhal thoanRumaa
en suvaasak kaatRae suvaasak kaatRae neeyadi

idhayaththaith thirudik kondaen
ennuyirinaith tholaiththuvittaen
idhayaththaith thirudik kondaen
ennuyirinaith tholaiththuvittaen
tholaindhadhai adaiyavae maRumuRai kaaNbaena
(en suvaasak kaatRae)

Movie Name: En Swasa Kaatre (1999)
Singer: Chithra K S, Sreekumar M G
Music Director: Rahman AR
Year: 1999

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Mouth's Scythe

2006-12-12T09:20:00.000-05:00

Bricks and bats, break your bones
Knives and spears pierce to wound
Sweet poison, death and sleep
The tongue, it breaks your spirit

Bones do mend, Wounds they heal
Poison hath cure. Doeth spirit?

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Faked his own Death

2006-12-11T10:55:00.000-05:00

I have become a fan of this quirky sitcom " My name is Earl". Its about a man atoning for his sins to get rid of "Bad Car-ma". I like it for its throwback narrative style and simple plots. The episodes go like this, earl picks a wrong he did in his life and tries to right it and we get a few laughs and some moral lessons along the way.

Talking of moral lessons the episode titled " faked his own death" stuck a chord with me. We are all guilty of going through lot of subterfuge to avoid a situation. When we do not know how to face a situation, which maybe sensitive, delicate or difficult we simply cook up ways and means to avoid it rather than face it.

I have done this too. When I was young I once avoided seeing my favorite person, a role model, my physician for many months. The reason, I avoided her was that she had lost her husband and me not wanting to deal with facing issues around death and loss, I simply chose to avoid her. I thought if I avoided her long enough, I could avoid the sadness associated with her loss. Well the fact is I did manage to avoid dealing with it, but I could never look her in the eye again because of the guilt. I still remember it years later (more than 15 years actually) and I regret not being there for that person.

Since then I have learnt that its better to deal with situations, be matter of fact about it, than be an ostrich. Yet its hard sometimes and I am still guilty of doing it occasionaly. Thus, I have sympathy for people who bury their neck in the sand at the first sign of danger.

Coming back to the episode, the protagonist regrets staging his own death inorder to avoid having to break up with a clingy and needy girl friend. Its on his list and he tries to fix it, this time going the "its not you but its me" route and ends up getting together with her again, even though he doesnt want to. After some quirky and hilarious moments he resolves the issue finally by telling her as is. As a result he gets the guilt free breakup and she becomes a stronger independent person albeit hating him strongly.
Thats the kind of ending I like...

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

P.S The title is a hyperlink to watch that episode.

Theekul viralai vittal - Caressing Fire ( version 2)

2006-12-06T13:19:00.000-05:00

In the ravens black plumes, I see your dark radiance O' Nanda
On sylvan crowns, I see your lush green O'Nanda
In all that I hear, I hear your sweet music O' Nanda
Through the singeing caress of an orange flame,
I feel your rapturous presence O' Nanda.

An Ode to Nanda Lala ( Lord Krishna) by Bharathi translated from tamil.

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The plight of an agnostic!

2006-11-30T11:22:00.000-05:00

All your life you questioned the existence of god, while all along ackowledging the existence of a higher power. Then revelation comes on a chilly november morning. You were right in the first place. There is but no god! It was all an elaborate sham. You a tiny part of a doll house of the little girl who had constructed this pretend world to cure boredom, loneliness or "God" only knows what.

Where do you go from there? The why tortures you! Why me? Why this? Why that? There are no easy answers, Yet,there wont be any closure without the answers. The child god wont/cant give you the answers. She neither has the time nor the care to answer to pretend play freinds. Maybe there can be no closure. The real answers may not provide closure.

What about the child? The toy world annoys her, she can and does make it disappear by wishes and a few short words. So in some sense she is a god. Its the faithful's fault to have kept faith in false idols in the first place.

What fills this godless vacuum? Can man live without a god... albeit a false one?

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The day a dream died!

2006-11-28T11:33:00.000-05:00

Morning comes. The pleasant dream you had all night turns into a nightmare. Your eyelids flutter. You want the nightmare to end. You want it to become pleasant once more. You fight the overwhelming urge to wake up till it is so. You so badly want that dream to have a different end. The annoying alarm bell rings the truth. Subconsiously you hit the snooze button, hoping against hope, you can wake up to a perfect ending. Princess kissing you. You the toad turning into a prince.
But reality wins yet again.
You wake up with a croak.
Dreams have to end.
The truth must prevail.
I dread sleep.
Small mercies, I wont be getting any, not anytime soon.

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The gulf

2006-07-31T10:15:00.000-04:00

Confusion reigns. The (dog's) tail curiosly seems closer than ever and yet at the same time farthest than its ever been. It bays at the moon. Is that the moon smiling back? or is it an illusion? Shes mine. yet I know I cant ever have her. All along I knew.
Like Daedalus, I fashion wings made of wax. Yet like icarus I forget (my own) admonitions. I seek the sun and the heavens. Hubris disguised as hope. I am the father and the son. The son will be gone, the father will remain to mourn. Inevitable. The momentary soaring remaines exhiliarating. The warnings, though echo faintly in my ears. Will my victory be pyrrhic?. Will the dog ever catch its tail? Can the gulf be bridged. A story of the Cup, a lip and a certain miss.

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The eternal chase!

2006-06-07T02:16:00.000-04:00

The dangled carrot and
the donkey that follows
The dog, its tail,
man and his dreams

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

The Indifferent messiah

2006-04-28T08:53:00.000-04:00

Poison thorns in shape of fingers, tongue and the thought her brain spews. Thorns well couched in banal colorless scentless flowers. Smiles and laughter she calls it, empty of meaning or intent. Vapid conversations just to keep one from being bored.
Simple words with complex meanings, yet messengers of apathy. The holy hymnals of the god who doesnt care about anything except the self serving world she creates. The child with a leggo set, who creates a world that she doesnt understand nor knows enough to care to understand. Play time ends at eight, play till its night.

Kill a soul not by hate, but callous indifference.

The bugs the child crushes without meaning to, but crushes anyways in the name of the game. Crushed not till it dies but crushed that it lies there helpless on its eviscerated torso and asundered legs.

A pain that hurts but not the numbing kind. Pain so great yet not great enough, that it makes one pray for a greater pain. A pain the child wont deliver because of its misguided pity, maybe even selfishness. Or even worse a pain it wont deliver because it doesnt know that it created that prayer for the pain in the first place.

God... when will she grow up?

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

if u have a head?....

2006-02-23T22:40:00.000-05:00

Listless, restless. Body refuses to move. Mind refuses to be still. A strange kind of manic paralyis.

What needs to be done is obvious! Yet it cannot be done.

The snakes inside my scalp wriggle and thrash around. venomous fight for freedom. A male Medusa in the making. The pain. I gently bang my head on the wall willing them to stop.

The thoughts and the snakes. Poisons in my brain. No tears. Just that swirling empty feeling. A bottomless pit finds it way into my stomach. Then something violently finds it way out of the depths. Dinner. Wry smile. Water. The snakes are calm. One gut wrenching purge done.

The thought poison still rages. How much more violence to purge the other? What shall be the price?

P.S This was scribbled a long time ago.

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Sun and earth, Moon and the madness

2006-02-15T10:59:00.000-05:00

The moons madness had to fall on the accursed day. The evening spent on
"the alchemist". The mush that is the brain has only gotten mushier. Raving lunacy. What has changed, what have we learnt, nothing. Yet here we are rambling again. No one will understand what we have written. T'was so written so as no one will understand, even the one who is supposed to.

The sun nourishes the earth. The sun must be in love, unrequited love. It can embrace the earth only by its warmth. A distant warmth. It giveth but it cannot take. Even if it breaths so much as a thought of seeking (or lets a yearning sigh), the third rock will be forever changed, burnt and scarred of its beauty. A violent scape of red and yellow, with no blue. So the sun has to be blue beneath all its feiry red and yellow. Blue yet happy as only someone who pines way can be. Hark the sun, see then it in a different light.

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

This one is for the two who are simply known as the Mah and the Bah!

2006-01-18T11:17:00.000-05:00

Read this somewhere...
Someone commented to a farmer, the weather has been good this spring, your crops must be doing good! To this the farmer replied, bad weather in spring is good for the crops, they put in deeper roots.

We hate those hard knocks that life serves us. Maybe we might lose a tooth or two in the process, but thank god! our feets are planted a little firmer on the earth, for the next time around when the big one comes.
Take not this to mean, that we become stoic and dour in the process. T'is the plant that weathers the storm that bears the most beautiful flower.
So is our visage and the smile that graces it....

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Acrophobia

2005-11-27T00:13:00.000-05:00

(or maybe Basophobia/basiphobia)
Its not a wide gulf. Though the fall is deep and bottomless. Hungry wolves prowl its dark depths. Maybe a vulture or two circle above. Its truly not a wide gulf. Just one final fast run, a gentle leap, and am on the other side. The promised land which is in sight. Maybe glory, maybe love, maybe peace.
Climbing the mountain I didnt hesitate. I slid many a time.Bumps, scratches and broken bones and spirit, no they didnt stop me. Here I am. A small gully and the beginning of the end of this phase of my journey.
I falter, I choke. Fear grabs my throat. Its ugly paws choking my breath. The gully looks like an ocean.
One last gasp. One leap. I do not care if I fall. Just the strength to try. I fall on my knees and plead with the maker. Courage is all I ask.....

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra..

Dignified defiance!

2005-10-24T23:24:00.000-04:00

Many winters ago, so many that the being that I am now was not even an idea, a lady refused to budge. Some would have called it stupidity,most others useless stubborness. Yet it was a spark that ignited a king. An Idea that is so powerful that it must not be let to die. An idea whose genesis was because of a rosa who refused to wilt, who by a simple act of refusing to stand, stood tall among giants.
Proof that one need not do extra-ordinary deeds to spark a revolution. All it takes is some courage, a definant dignity to stand up for what is right, even, even, when you are beat, tired and all you want to do is just get home.
She has finally reached home. May she rest in peace !

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Better Believe!

2005-10-19T19:04:00.000-04:00

“6000 dollars ummm be kind to heathens even if they refute your attempts to convert” said preacher. He locked the safe, looked up at new disciple “what if they refuse?”. “Warn them of god’s lightning bolt on nonbelievers”…in sahara, middle of summer? understudy incredulously. Hell! it’s all bullshit anyways! Just then lightning struck the tent!

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

One more shot in a day...mmm I think am gonna end up drunk?

The heart beats on!

2005-10-19T00:33:00.000-04:00

55 Fiction Version
Beautiful princess lived with haggard hunchbacked wizard, served him well, though he asked nothing .
Whispers spread “poor thing’s under evil spell”
Autumn evening angel flew across dark sky. They later found him, with hole where heart must've been if he had had one. Serene smile graced his face. His heart was now where it belonged.

Relatively longer version

Not so long ago a beautiful princess lived with a haggard hunchbacked wizard. She served him well even though he seemed not to ask anything of her. It appeared that he would never let her out of his sight. Whispers reached his pointy ears, "He's put a spell on her, the poor little thing, wont some handsome prince save her from his clutches" For man of evil repute remarkably, he largely ignored those pinpricks. One autumn evening an angel was spotted flying across the dark sky. They later found him, with a hole in the place where his heart must have been if indeed he had had one. A serene smile graced his face. His heart was now where it belonged.

Note:
I was not tagged by the clouds this time (thats where I was first introduced to this), maybe due to previous tag non responsiveness? In any case above is the short and long of my shot!

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Bye bye happiness! hello loneliness!

2005-07-27T01:01:00.000-04:00

In the little world of Charlie brown terrible things are happening. The little red headed girl has long left town, dear ole' charlie didn't say goodbye. He never wrote that letter, or went up to her and said a hello. Now she is gone. His heart is broken. He has forgone food and water, he bawls at night.
I wish his little heart will be allright. I wish the red headed girl by some miracle would come back to him.
Life rarely works that way, but why can't little comic strips work that way? Who knows what heartache the maker has for him?

In life some battles are not won. The Juggernaut has always been rolling, neither the preist nor the lord of that temple has ever stopped it for anyone who might fall under it wheels. We make our best effort not to be crushed. Yet sometimes we do get crushed. We visualize our worst fears try and take action, yet the worst fears come true.

After all the beatings, the crushings and the skinned knees, we realize it was meant to be. Red headed girls move away, even the ones we said hello, and wrote those sweet letters to. We realize some battles were meant to be lost. Yet, We have to soldier on. We have to bawl some, then grow up and go searching for our red headed girl. Who knows....she might be waiting. Who knows.... there could be a rainbow behind the stormy skies, with a pot of gold at its end.
So, I just turn on my radio, and as I drive..all I hear is..

she's playing all night..
and the music's all right.....

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

Lament of a dwarf!

2005-01-09T10:28:00.000-05:00

The bus must have left. I am so late that I see only the dust cloud, which only it can have left. The road looks so desolate. A lonely road, scorched by the sun, could be jaisalmer, could be nevada, could even be mars. The cold night is forth. Not a living soul around, save me. Yeah save me, now only I can do that.
Chances and second chances I threw away only like a man heady with hubris or a fool stuck blind by cupid's arrow could. I am guilty of both. Freind and foe alike have left godspeed.
Only way out is a long slow painful trudge. I fear I have neither the heart nor the courage. I seek comfort in sleep. No comfort there. Restless sleep, filled with dark nightmares.
The stars conspired. I succumbed. Half hearted fights. Enough to stay afloat. Fears fill me. The familiar paralysis threaten to afflict me.
Yet I cant just roll over and die. For I know am much better than that. Hubris remains. Yet a different kind of hubris. The kind that keeps you alive. The kind that keeps the tiger from eating grass.
I write bold words. I lack bold action. Time brought out its measuring tape. I am a dwarf. Time never lies. Harsh reality.
How long? how long? I ask myself. How long will I let myself be the man who could have been king?
yet another year. Yet another post. Hope never dies.

Knowing is not enough I must apply... willing is not enough I must DO!

-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra

pongu kadal!

2005-01-05T13:15:00.000-05:00

arivinal aguvathundo pirarthin knoy
than knoy pottrar kadai
Thirukural 32, 315

Whats the use of intellect, if one cant own
the pain of others as one's own?

I fear that I have become too numb to see the pain of others. True those images they flash everywhere of suffering brethren, that brings forth a tear to the corner my eye could count as feeling. Somehow my heart discounts its as a phony emotion brought by the moment in response to an image. How different is it as I ask myself, is that to the one that, one sheds in movies theaters, or upon reading a moving book?
Yet I chide myself, how can I match an emotion to a tragedy so enormous.
Why is it always that beautiful days bring such horrendous tragedy. Why did that ocean, that I love so much, unleash so much fury?
Its the earth readjusting itself I rationalize. Nature after all doesnt differentiate between able and infirm, child or adult, good or wrong, it just consumes all and everything on a whim!
I imagine myself on the shores of chennai, the ones I frequented almost everyday before I crossed many an ocean to come to a foreign shore. I used to seek comfort in the gentle waves, I think of the fond memories. I shake my head in disbelief, is it the same sea, that I remember? True, I have seen its fury on stormy days, raging and raving, but never once did it breach its boundary, never once did it harm anyone albeit the occasional foolhardy soul who challenged its might.
I reflect. I feel numb. I feel conflicted.
I ask myself, if I truly feel the pain, what am I doing sitting here and doing nothing. I despair that I do not have the courage to make myself of use. I say to myself some other day, when I shall have the courage and energy to do! rather than just reflect..some other day...some other day...
till that day comes, I shall do the least I can do, sign the check, knowing fully that I have taken the easiest way out, and I comfort myself its better than doing nothing at all ...almost nothing but better than nothing...

-thus spake the third eye

P.S It took me enough time to sign that check, and put my thoughts down. I am sure most of you who visit this little corner of me have, done more than just reflecting. If you havent, its high time you did. Exercise your wallet, its the least one can do, remembering fully that it could have been any one of us caught in the wrong end of nature's wrath.I am thankful for the fact, that Its wasnt me, or anyone I know who was affected.. a tad bit selfish..but all the more reason for the lucky others like me to do their bit...and be thankful for every new dawn we wake up, safe in our cozy little beds.

Touch and Go..nay stay?

2004-12-08T16:21:00.000-05:00

Cartoons are such a wonderful medium for expressing profound and yet obvious everyday wisdom. Few can be called true geniuses of this unique talent! Bill watterson and charles schultz top my little list.
Similarly very few can be called lyrical geniuses. Among tamil movie song writers, the greatest so far atleast according to me is Kannadasan.
One of his songs has a line which crudely translates into

Unspoken words bequeath no meaning

This Cartoon strip from Mr Schlutz evoked a similar emotion/thought in me. So I decided to post it.......

And I guess its also my excuse, to remind people that I am still around and its always nice to express those pregnant thoughts ...cause...am defintely Pro-life on thoughts :-) or better still mail those great letters to me..instead of relegating them to your recycle bins....esp nice ones like that on the cartoon.... well ofcourse great letters only from the red headed girl(s?) and not from charlie browns please......
-thus spake the third eye

When will this night end?

2004-11-07T19:02:00.000-05:00

Melancholy, a sweet sounding word which should have no place in our hearts.... hmmm what a dreadful emotion.

Oh! How I wish tommorow was today and yesterday never happened!

Today is filled with melancholy cause of thoughts about yesterday. Of freinds gone, places left behind and things not done. Of words spoken that shouldnt have been thought in the first place, and some words, not uttered, that should have been, tragically trapped in my tongue between clenched teeth, caged behind anger and disappointment.

Mind says regret not, life happens, yet heart feels heavy that it has indeed so happened.

Oh beautiful sunshine, the one who resides in the cusp of the dawn, at the end of a every long cold dreary night.... Where are you? My heart seeks to embrace you with open arms. My frigid soul desires your gentle warmth.

Alas! the sun, she is still far beneath the the horizon, where the earth curves and the ocean becomes one giant waterfall, the waterfall where she's takes her cleansing shower before she brings the morn to us.

I wait for her to bring the light, to do away this night. I wish to open my eyes, for this darkeness aint comforting, after all its not my mothers womb. Hither and thither my heart flutters like a caged little bird wanting to be free of the fears that prey my mind.

With my elbow empty, I sit alone in front of the fire, with the just the gentle sound of the waves caressing the soft sands of the beach, to keep me company and bequeath comfort. I look eagerly over the eastern horizon, beyond the starless and moonless night sky for a new dawn... wishing tommorow was today and yesterday never happened.....

-thus spake the third eye

Halloween and ayudha pooja?

2004-10-25T05:36:00.000-04:00

In a blog of 2 degree separation from mine scribbles of a lazy geek, I came across a post about how ayudha pooja and pumpkins are causing road accidents in my beloved Chennai. Unfortunately still awake 530 am's and bad self made coffee sets me off on weird tangents.

Halloween has pumpkins, Ayudha pooja has pumpkins. Halloween pumpkin represents evil*, breaking ayudha pooja-pumpkin wards of evil..hence represents evil. Halloween pumpkins are carved to have flames inside to make jack O lanterns. Ayudha pooja pumpkins have camphor flames placed on them. Ayudha pooja and halloween falls in the same month/season???

Hm weird coincidence...Maybe after all the east isnt so different from the west... Any one daring to nominate me for IgNobel award for this profound thesis?

-thus spake the third eye

*apparently people do smash jack O lanterns in the usa too if a comic strip can be considered as proof? like this comic strip -the lost sheep.

There's something about the ocean!

2004-10-15T02:47:00.000-04:00

As always, something about rainy nights with gloomy clouds, draws me to the ocean...well the (long island) sound in my case. So here I was once again, in the docks, by the boats, hearing the waves break on the moorings....as restless as my mind.

Four years and a month or so, since I made that journey from the land that columbus wanted to find, to the land that he did find. As that firebrand governor from vermont Dr Dean said the other day, life isnt about coulda shoulda woulda. He will perhaps forever remain a governor, and not make that date with his destiny of being the president, he wanted to be. Maybe its because of things he did, or things he didnt do, or maybe it was because of the things that he had no control of. Yet, hes there smiling and supporting someone who just supplanted him. He talks of his success and that wonderful joyride of running for an office,and of all the deaniacs, and how he has changed american democracy in his own way. No use in harping of bygones, when today is calling you to duty. Life goes on for him.

There My freind, I tell myself is a lesson for you. Yes four years and a month or so.... since I first hit the shores of the atlantic whose existence I knew but didnt appreciate till two summers later. Now thats something I regret, the rest I would be a fool if I regret.

Yes maybe as the beatles croon ..."I am not half the man I used to be" but I am for sure a far better person than that little arrogant and selfish kid, who thought he was invincible. Maybe I have gained inches when others have already touched down in this game of life. But those inches were gained by blood and toil, a fact which I wouldnt trade for an easy pass to the touch line. Maybe the things I loved most, slipped through my callous fingers, but the fact that they grazed my fingers before slipping away has changed me for the better. As Reagan, said looking back, "All in all, not bad, not bad at all"... Its not night yet, the journey stretches ever more, the oasis is still as far as when I began, there is still a long hard trudge to make, but looking back charges me up.

Theres something magical about rainy days, gloomy clouds and the restless ocean! (atleast for me).......

-thus spake the third eye

Its worth dreaming!

2004-09-29T13:30:00.000-04:00

"Space may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Hollywood basement"

- Red hot chilli peppers (Californication)

'Space ship one' sprung from the under belly of the white knight above the californian desert sky and hurtled like a spear thrown at the heavens. Maybe the earth was scared by the might of the occasion that it gave a gentle shudder. Hollywood couldnt have written the script better.

True space has been conquered long before, but it still remains the final frontier. Gravity holding us back from soaring into the heavens. Yet One more time mankind has taken the small step to leap giantly across the galaxies. To go where no man has ever gone before.

Star trek watch out, you might just yet become a reality show. If internet shrinked the world, this is the first step towards shrinking space. More importantly its a reaffirmation to the concept that its ok to dream and dreaming is the first step to reality.

When so many nations are yet to conquer hunger, let alone space, a group of people have shown that they can breakthrough earth's gravity without the might of a nation behind them. All on the power of a dream.

All ye nay sayers, Rest in peace. The dream continues.

-thus spake the third eye

Dare to dream!

2004-09-18T19:00:00.000-04:00

The waves were rocking the boats, dark gloomy clouds filled the horizons. A gentle drizzle was kissing my cheeks. The wind was making my messy hair even more messier. It was chilly in a pleasant way as only autumn can make it.

Images from childhood flood my mind. The dreams, now forgotten.
In between all the never ending mundane battles,and the mileu of thus created conflicting emotions, somehow I have seemingly forgotten them. Yet not so deeply. Not so deeply that the gentle waves crashing on the docks and those sweet kisses showered on me by the septemeber rain cant bring it forth.

Dreams, maybe not in touch with reality, yet by force of will can and will be made so. I once had a plan, the perfect plan. Nothing written down, nothing ever verbalized. All this before I drowned in the storm in my tea cup. Who knew flower beds so comforting, can put you in a rip wan winkle stupor. Nothing mattered except the gentle caress of the flowers.

I have since, violently woken up. The thorns after all have done me a favour. Yet memories of those cocoon days still holds my wings back. I dream of soaring, I dream of flying to the moon and beyond. Just as I dreamed once, what now seems eons ago.

In dreams I shall fight and win back my wings from the memory morass. In dreams I shall take that small step in the moon, which shall propel me to my giant leap to glory.In dreams I shall find solace. The chips maybe down, tommorow maybe just a dream. yet I dare to dream.

-thus spake the third eye

Reruns of failed sitcoms?

2004-09-13T16:36:00.000-04:00

Sometime lifes like a Sitcom, esp the really bad ones, the kinda shows with bad scripts, which shouldnt have seen the light of day (0r night), but it did, and then some heavenly producer gets this bright idea of re-running it.

Makes one feel like going uggggggggggggh!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well theres even worse, the rehashed ones, "the remakes" scripted even more badly with albeit a slightly different twist. (come to think, even my blogs are like them)

That brings me to my conundrum,(yeah the drum you beat your head with) What do you do? when somebody you respect and like, decides one fine morning (or not so fine morning) to make you unhappy. (seems to be happening in more than one ways to all of us eh? thro...freinds, parents, partners, mentors etc.,)

You cant beat them up, thats so 2000 BC, you cant even swear at them with choice epithets(thats so aussie) AND you Definitely cant wish that bad things happen to them (that!!! is so voodoo).....well you cant do that or any other such (tempting?) choices.....cause as I said you respect and like them, and if they get hurt or become unhappy, it just makes you more unhappy and upset. Ah! you say they hurt you first, didnt they!!!..well thats the conundrum..(bang! bang! ouch@#%%) you are hurt, but you cant hurt back (because you dont want to), and you cant suck it up 2....

Talking about bad sitcoms... atleast you can turn the channel... life... well... go figure...

-thus spake the third eye

Revisiting darfur

2004-07-30T14:28:00.000-04:00

I had written a few days before about the atrocities and humanitarian crisis in darfur, Sudan under the title Moved By Kristof.

Today I saw this Picture in BBC news website. It Moved me. I thought its time that I remind people about darfur. There is a link just below the previous post and a link on the title of that post, which gives you ways to help and more information about the situation respectively. If you folks take a moment, to atleast make yourself aware, if not more, it would make the world a better place, albeit a tiny bit!

-thus spake the third eye

Oh! that terrible thing called change!

2004-07-26T07:22:00.000-04:00

The only thing thats constant is change

Change is good. Change makes life exciting, stops annui from settling in. Change is but, evolution. Adaptation is the key to life. Be adept and adapt, are be left behind. Remember! yesterdays Dinosaurs are todays fossils.

Change what a horrible thing. OK I know I just said change is good. I contradict myself, I changed my mind, so whats the big deal! go deal with it.

Why should birth be so traumatic? Why cant we just stay in the comfortable womb of one's mother? Why do we have to so painfully change our location? Having been born, why cant we then stay as children? Why do we have to grow up?

Why do we have to make freinds and leave them behind in search of success? Why do we have to find success? Having found it, Why cant we be still? Why do we go on and seek love? Having found love, why do we have to lose it? Having lost love, why do we have to also taste bitter defeat?

Now that I face defeat, why cant I just fade into oblivion? Why should I not go gentle into the good night?

Damn that thing change! I like my friend constant better. Oh! thats right he has soldout to change. He changed too.

-thus spake the third eye

And oh! why wont the clouds rain daily on my barren land as they once used to...

Moved by Kristof

2004-07-21T10:36:00.000-04:00

I have till now refrained from poisoning this fragment of my heart and soul on the web from anything remotely political. Talking about darfur is hardly political.

My personal struggles with the demons I face everyday inspire me to write about my not going gentle into the goodnight. I scoff at myself today, what a whiner!

I read about the sudanese and the demons they face everyday, the janjaweed. My travails and for that matter, the travails many of us face, of which we incessantly whine about to whomsover happens to cross our sorry path, are nothing compared to what these people face.

Waking up one morning to find yourself facing your death and the rape of your kinfolk and your land, for no other reason except, that you exist is a horrible fate and not one, many of us could claim having faced or god forbid would have ever to face.

These horrors exist and are a reality to many. Yet we try our best to ignore it and pretend it would just go away. We do not want our cozy existence whose only biggest challenge is to choose between a diet coke and a starbucks latte to be disturbed by a few million dying in the dark continent.

I Wish I would have the courage to do something real about it, maybe someday I will, Maybe someday one of you reading this will or already have. If you have the courage I salute you.

Till then we can all make a beginning. First step is to acknowledge these horrors, and by that I mean in our own conscience and not in an abstract "oh I am sorry that a bunch of people are dying", the next is to advocate and make the people you come across to acknowledge it too! and then hopefully your nation and your lawmakers. That is the least you can do!

As someone said Writing a check is the easiest way to clean our conscience. I do not know if it does that, but I do know that there are some real courageous people for whom the check would go a long way in making their reality that much better. Someday we will all have the courage to do more than just sign a line on our check books...till then lets put that pen to a good use in more than one way..

.....they shalt not go gentle into the goodnight!

Ways you can help!!!

-thus spake the third eye

By the power of the molar..I am Questor!!!!!

2004-06-24T17:27:00.000-04:00

Today A walk in the clouds led me on an inward journey, for once an objective and maybe even honest evaluation of myself, instead of the usual abstract and egomaniacal ones.

To all ye fellow personality voyeurs remember two caveats..
1) only thing thats constant is change
2) The very act of observing distorts the observed.

INFP - "Questor". High capacity for caring. Emotional face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 4.4% of total population.

Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Conscious self	Overall self

Take Free Enneagram Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Enneagram Test Results

Type 1	Perfectionism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Type 2	Helpfulness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Type 3	Image Awareness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	66%
Type 4	Sensitivity	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Type 5	Detachment	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Type 6	Anxiety	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	40%
Type 7	Adventurousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Type 8	Aggressiveness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Type 9	Calmness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	60%

Your Conscious-Surface type is 2w3
Your Unconscious-Overall type is 2w3

Take Free Enneagram Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

-thus spake the third eye

Be careful what you pray for!

2004-06-14T18:09:00.000-04:00

This weekend, an interesting conversation popped up. No booze or pot was involved which by itself is a miracle these days! It was about what you should and should not pray for! Ah hear ye atheists collective groan. Just hold the groan up, ....if its not too late yet, .....I might be actual rooting for you folks in bits and peices.
I know its been a bad day already what with the supreme court letting god exist based on a technicality!

Hallelujah, god exists in supreme court!!!the sweet irony of it, (or bitter irony depending on which side of the Crt-alt-del button you have been -Yes the dump the bf/gf because my life is messed up and start over a miraculously better new life button-)where was I? yes the bitter irony of it is that the kids legal parent is the only one who can decide what words she should or should not say. HMM!!! so if the guy loses his custodial rights does he become the illegal parent, besides I always thought the kid speaks words which it picked up from the snotty faced kid sitting right next to it, and its gonna stay it, even if the supreme court mandated legal parent likes it ot not.

Now you can groan!..... about how long and windy this guy writes and then! ofcourse please read on, for I am not done yet.

So yes getting into the meat of the argument,- well vegetarians need not leave the table- the question was, Is praying for things 1)that which you can control or 2)for that which you cannot control.

I, would rather pray for what I cannot control, cause if I can control it! why bother the ultimate boss? He (ok or she) might go like, why do you bring your sorry ass to me for problems which you can control. Besides there exists certain things which you cannot control and for which you cant say shuck it (kids might be reading this... grown kids too ;-) ) You would have to deal with them, like it or not, and they wont go away just because you wish them away. One obvious thing, is ofcourse if you have been crt-alt-del by the love of your life, you have two choices one you pray to god that your system is restored, or the other pay up the shrink,.... am not a miser but I prefer getting better help free ;-)

Consider this, I would rather pray for a real "freind-ship" when am marooned on a desert island than for a random floatsam, till then I would be shooting the goat and growing the grains..I dont have to pray for it, they are under my control.

OK enough said...now go PRAY that you dont have read such trash again. I am gonna do the same.

-thus spake the third eye

Excuse to put more peanuts on blog!!!

2004-06-10T17:57:00.000-04:00

The other day, I was being ribbed by my freinds. In the middle of it all there came up something which I felt was important to tell at that moment I do not remember now what it is, guess it wasnt that important after all. In any case I guess I went on a limb and placed my faith that I would be taken seriously despite a good intentioned warning.
Well what do you know, the warning was right on the money.
Ah You ask why I am sharing this inconsequential little incident and wasting yor time?
I needed an excuse to put the peanut cartoons posted below on my blog. Afterall everyone has a bit of charlie Brown in them.

Good luck with the world

Am I a mystic
P.S All strips were pilferred from comics.com
-thus spake the third eye

The old tree and the little bird

2004-06-09T22:21:00.000-04:00

In the yards across my window, there stands a tree, Neem or oak I wouldn’t know. Once a while during spring a little bird comes and perches atop its inviting and strong branches. It tweets and chirps, I assume it is making conversation with the tree. For the tree sways as if it is nodding his head. Maybe it’s the wind and maybe it’s my imagination, but I always think they converse and have a beautiful friendship.
All through, spring and summer the friendship blossoms. The tree sometimes nodding his head sometimes bellowing with laughter making the papers and fallen leaves startle and run helter-skelter.
The bird, grooming itself, chirping joyously, always looking beautiful.
Then July comes the bird flies away more often than it stays perched on its nest, the tree wants to fly with the bird. Its roots do not let it. July brings love and joy, yet for the tree its sadly always filled with a burning desire to fly and hence the searing disappointment.
Slowly the leaves become golden yellow, all the green energy thus being used up in an ill-fated effort to fly.
The bird by then has stopped coming. It has flown to a faraway land. The bird knows the winter is around the corner; hence it flies away to greener pastures. The tree thinks the bird flew away cause it doesn’t like his friendship anymore.
A small droop comes upon him, his now yellow leaves turn brown in sadness.
Soon the leaves float away, the tree no longer wants them, he has no interest in adorning himself.
The tree stands tall, fiercely proud, but he stands barren and sad at the same time
He no longer sways, he groans and creaks. Soon his barks start to dry up and break and fall away.
All but a skeleton of him remains come april. I fear he is going to keel over and fall dead one day. I look anxiously every morning out through my window. He barely stands but he stands.
One fine may morning, I hear a chirp and wake up. I see the little bird on the tree again, I spy a leaf or two. Maybe it’s the same little bird or maybe its another one. I wouldn’t know. I like to think it’s the same one, whispering to the tree. You big wood head, I am back with you, I had to go not because of you, but simply because I had to go.
Maybe am just a sentimental fool and all the above is my imagination, but then as if by miracle the tree becomes all-right and I once again hear the chirping and the gentle swaying of the tree as if they were never separated.
I am happy for the tree, yet I dread for it, but maybe that’s way, how its supposed to be.
Parting and meeting and meeting and parting.
Wish my bird would come back!

-thus spake the third eye

P.S came across this in a random blog which I happened to blunder upon. Cant claim its related but I guess it shares the sentiment of the story, besides thought it might add some color to a pretty dour and heavy blog...

Me neither...do U?

tirisangu's heaven

2004-06-09T01:22:00.000-04:00

Heavens doors are closed and you cannot come back to earth, oh what a predicament.....
you see something that could have been slowly slip past. Yet the past that be, doesnt let you catch hold of the future.
Frozen in the moment that is now, eternally, - victim of a tug of war between the gone and the soon to come, oh what a predicament.
Why do we have to meet then so tragically part.
Why is parting never like death, abrupt and absolute. Why does it wane, linger and drag on and on, still leaving a whiff of its paralysing, poisonous, fragrance thus immbolizing us.
Why does the farmer stand on his barren sun baked land for the four seasons past, and peer with his wrinkled forehead on to the yonder skys waiting for the clouds which surely are not headed his way.
Hope you say.. nay tirisangu's heaven..
oh tirisangu what a predicament the wise sage vishwamitra left you in...
-thus spake the third eye

Life is but one big grab!

2004-06-07T15:50:00.000-04:00

So much for being patient and polite. We live in a world, where today is in a rush to capture tommorow. Even before tommorow can blink, today has taken it and made its own.
Life is kinda like a woman who has a million suitors, She is more capricious than any woman can ever be. She mistakes politeness and patience as signs of diffidence and uninterestedness.
She ignores cyrano and choses others over him.
Cyrano,a synopsis
Hence a cyrano never lives, he can only maybe die as a happy man.
No one would want to be a cyrano.
Yet in me, here lies the contradiction. I do not want life, I want to be a cyrano. I will write my poems and fight my battles. If glory and happiness elude me, so be it. But maybe, just maybe I will will die a happy death.

-thus spake the third eye

Hope and cynicism!

2004-05-22T15:25:00.000-04:00

Andy to red

"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies"

Shawshank Redemption(1994)

Any one who has seen shawshank would agree with me that two things elevated the movie about a well planned prison break into something which just blows your mind apart.
The narrative voice of Morgan freeman which brings life to the memorable writings of stephen king.

More than that there is a third element to the story told, the incredible message of hope, Of hope sustained, nurtured and fructified against incredible travesties. A hope worn with quite dignity when faced with dehumanizing humiliation.

Red (narrating)

Andy Dufresne - who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side.

Soon the movie is over we are back to reality, we see the ugly selfishness in ourselves and the world around us. We see the violence, the injustice and inhumanity. We remember the failures, the love lost. Hope is poisoned, cynicism creeps in.
We stop following the news, we stop talking to people we build a wall. we stop thinking. We cease to vote, we cease to try to make a difference. We tune out. We find false gods who preach hate. We start believing in their words that the cure to all evil is controlled and selective evil to all those we think are evil.
cynicism's arsenic prevades our system making us dyspeptic individuals.

Then one bright, beautiful july morning among all the cynicism, an andy or two walks into our lifes, giving us hope that, some birds are meant to be free, and the pacific is bluer than we thought and theres a little place with an old inn, near the beach, with sands untread and pure....

-thus spake the third eye

hath shakespeare ever writ!

2004-05-18T12:11:00.000-04:00

The point in contention is the claim the bard makes in
sonnet cxvi (courtesy: google search and not my vast knowledge of the man's works). Forever seems such a far out claim.

"hands squeezed tight on the sands of the beach,
love you say! Nay then I have a lot to teach
fragile pact, in fragile times! held by hands, lest it breach!
leave them hands, fear they to! each shall part beyond reach."

Maybe oscar wilde hit the proverbial nail, the concept of love is forever, the players (not the thug playa) may not realize the true meaning. The nightingale and the rose talks about the nightingale who makes the rose red for a love sick student. A beautiful story full of sweet irony. I shall not spoil it by summarizing it in a line. (the above can hardly be called a summary)

Maybe love is forever, the nightingales and the roses know it. Maybe we are too busy chasing material trappings, wealth power and ego to realise it ourselves. Do not know about love being forever but the memories are forever, it becomes part of you. Maybe love lives on forever as memories.

Then again maybe not. Maybe no man ever loved and the bard never writ and the nightingales...?

-thus spake the third eye

What is the price of success?

2004-05-05T15:56:00.000-04:00

Convention bestows upon us numbers -" a metric"- to measure the degree's of success. While I have no grudge against such a measure, I feel that a desire to be 'not' judged, on a conventional metric shouldnt be pooh poohed either. I ofcourse have doubts in that maybe I use such high sounding arguments to justify my inability to live upto the metric in question. To put it plainly maybe, I am like the jackal which claimed the grape is sour only because it couldnt reach it.

Having said that there is a price to be paid to acheive a success in any metric.
There are many ways to attain success in any venture. I for one, know what ways not to take, even if I do not know what road to take. Knowing what not to do is but a beginning after all. Nethi principle- coming to the truth based on elimination.

I will not use people as pawns to climb the ladder of success. I shall not desire what I do not deserve. I shall seek no favours. If backbone, loyalty and trust are old fashioned so be it. A little bit of extra sweat and time is not going to matter in the journey of life. My metric always will be "am I comfortable in my own skin? If I should see myself in the mirror of conscience and look handsome, I have acheived success. Other metrics, I shall strive to acheive. If it happens, it happens! If it doesnt the journey will continue...as was once said.. no defeat is final untill one stops trying. I shall not....

-thus spake the third eye

What makes you tick?

2004-04-25T17:44:00.001-04:00

I have no answer to this one, but the question is important. Blessed are those who know their true calling.
Some of us just blunder along, hoping we might stumble upon it by happenstance. Few of us are too scared to examine that question.
Either way we live a life, lived and wasted, except maybe to serve as an example of how not to be. Why should we let our life be yet another story of the prodigal son, havent there been enough examples already? Why should we serve as the lowest rung on a ladder on which others climb?
Life may not be an empty canvas in which we are free to draw our abstract pictures. It can be just a bland solid peice of granite. Yet with our imagination and our blunted finger nails we can carve out and breath life onto a new hercules himself.
Did I say I do not know the answer... not entirely true....impossible challenges! thats what makes me tick! the calling part I shall know soon. How Do I know...I am not scared to think anymore!
I shall beat my head against the wall until either the wall gives or...nay the wall shall give..I shall not go gentle.......
-thus spake the third eye

what makes a good story!

2004-04-17T22:03:00.000-04:00

As I was reading Sivagamiyin sabatham ( The vow of sivagami, written by kalki), I realized something that a thousand others before must have realized. Great epics are so fascinating not because of the courage,romance or charachter of the protaganist but because of his or her foibles. The very thing that makes them human and strikes a chord in our hearts and makes us identify with him or her. Sometimes the consequences of their weakness manifest itself in scenarios which we have expereinced in life and makes the story more personal, thus leaving an indelible mark in our minds.
I also realized a great story is made so by the deep understanding of human nature by the author, which he or she uses to build the many players of the story and the many many interactions they have and their myriad reactions to such interactions.
Now I understand why people spend years researching the great epics and not just rest by reading, enjoying and tossing them away..
-thus spake the third eye

kandrathitha thevar!

2004-04-12T18:24:00.000-04:00

In ponniyin selvan, an epic novel by Kalki, there comes a passage describing a turning point in the history of the cholas. The Pandiya king was at war with the pallavas ..yet again.
The chola kingdom had been reduced to an insignificant feifdom (during this period) whose chieftain was the ferocious old tiger kandrathithar, who had aligned himself with the pallava king. Kandrathithar had lost both his legs in a previous war and hence his brother was leading the chola army. The tide of the war was turning, unfortunately in favour of the pandiyas, the war weary soldiers of the pallavas and cholas were ready to give up. In fact some of the battalion had started to retreat with droopy shoulders. The pandiyan army was smelling victory.
The news reached the ears of the tiger. He donned his battle gear and ordered his generals to carry him on their broad shoulders. With a blade in both arms and anger in his eyes, he raced onto the advancing enemy thus perched atop his trusted general. When the general fell the next soldier lifted the king upon his shoulder. Like a torando among fallen leaves he thundered amidst the enemy line. Heads and limb flew asunder.
A miracle was thus sparked. The Soldiers witnessed their legless king fighting so ferociously, and gathered great courage from that. Slowly the wind swung the other way. The pandiyan army lost heart. They beat a hasty retreat.

Sometimes all it takes to turn the tide, is great courage and a sense of purpose. The enemy be damned for he is not outside, he lies within us ..his name is fear. When fear wilts and courage blooms, even death cannot stop one from winning. There is nothing to fear except fear itself!

-thus spake the third eye

Engey ennathu kavithai?- Where is my poetry?

2004-04-06T22:53:00.000-04:00

where is my poetry?
I have lost it in more than one way! I frantically search for them, the poems of the past. I searched for them in the dusty corners of my room. Alas! all that remains is only a vague memory....in the misty corners of my mind. Those poems were memories of poems, whose memories have now become vague. The fragrances of those memories remain, so does the scars from the flowers.
Scars are not to be ashamed of, they are to be proudly worn on ones shoulders and chest, for they are the resume's of warriors.They speak of the battles fought and survived. Fragrances, well! they are worn proudly.
Poems are the scars and fragrances of memories of poems, written down proudly so that they serve as the resume of the soul, the soul of the consummate warrior who battles life and faces it head on.
I continue searching for the poems of the past, the present and the future to write them down as poems.I need my identity...my fragrances and my scars.....
.........where are my poems? where is my poetry?
-thus spake the third eye

The seventh pot of gold!

2004-03-23T16:30:00.000-05:00

As I sat ruminating on today and all the days before today, this story popped into my mind! A fable read on one of those days before today, when I probably was half as old as I am now.
Story of the seven pots
We read those stories, shake our heads at the amazing wisdom it has and then promptly forget about it. Then life plays its course, we waste, oh! a good two or three years and then we sit ruminating on today and all those days before today, and then we remember those stories we should have remembered always in the first place.
For everyone theres always that seventh pot of gold, the sooner we realise its existence and the sooner we stop trying to fill it, the better we are. In all fairness, I too have six full pots of gold and then some more.
Sadly the seventh pot of gold is half full. Great journeys begin with a single step! Giving up an obsession is also a journey in some sense... many baby steps towards, I fumble, I fall, but i get up and walk on...not to the sunset, but to a new dawn!.. I shall not go gentle in to the goodnight!
-thus spake the third eye

Reality check

2004-03-19T18:13:00.000-05:00

I can be my own harshest critic, I can at the same time, be my own obsequios flatterer. The trouble with vacillating between both the extremes -one of intense delusions of grandeur bordering on the megalomaniac and the other of wallowing in self pity like almost being a pathetic wimp - is that reality lies somewhere in between.. I am neither ceasar nor am I the crippled leper (althought secretly I hope to be closer to ceasar than the leper). This roller coaster ride of emotions freezes me like a would be road kill caught in the glaring headlights, too scared to be on either side, watching with a fatal transfixation onto the light which doesnt bring relief but sure pain. I got to move, move fast..either forward or backward but just not stand still in endless stupor thinking this too will pass..for there is no such thing as a middle of the road approach...u just get run over if u r in the middle of the road!
-thus spake the third eye

Genesis of a name

2004-03-19T04:22:00.000-05:00

we are born, then we are given a name! sometimes it suits us, sometimes it doesnt
some of us just grow into our name or atleast imagine ourselves to have grown so! thankfully someplaces we can choose names, maybe choosing a new name would make for a new start, then again maybe not!
but here I am choosing one more name for one more beginning... trinetra triumbhaka, or simply the third eye! a voice from the clouds said the name..nay not an asiriri (voice from the sky) neither from an asuri...(demon queen) but from a cuddly idli! ;-)
-thus spake the third eye

2004-03-19T03:49:00.000-05:00

gently as the clouds disperse so did my previous theblahblah

2004-03-19T03:35:00.000-05:00

well one more blog?