yay! am 32!! and am kinda pretty sure its new 22! :) umm.. which would mean, i had a baby at 21... and that no doubt IS kick ass... yet, what is more kick ass then that... is the baby in question IS a new dimension in kick ass..... perhaps the most awestastic thing in the history of forever!!
and though he is 4 months, but make no mistake, he carries wisdom (read: cunning, manipulation with a loads of cuteness thrown in for deadly measure) of 40!! umm... which would perhaps make me 82 if not 92... there goes my maths... you should never ask me deal with numbers... i suck at it! maths is like god... the more you try to know, the more thread you loose! and we NEED thread! for all our outfits, what else, moron?
also, this time last year, i was freezing and i realised i was to be the vessel for this handsome dude... i mean, not that i froze because of the new info, i was already freezing in sub-zeros of irish latitudes and had no whisky... irish or otherwise... and that sucked too... i mean, irish weather is stolidly at its best to make solid ice out of you... and you cant even effing take a sip of that fabled whiskey or rum or Guinness... whatever, i am not sure... but i couldn't have any of it... not because i knew, i was harboring god's gift.... (wow, i have a gift i didnt know about... thats bashful at its best!) but i was on budget and i had to choose between one meal and one pint...!! is that even a choice, you say... i know, i agree.... i too would have gotten wasted... but then ms.devil took over and beat me up with her practical/sensible nonsense and i lost! and since then we are not talkin to each other... i mean, my ms.devil and me! this year, this day,it was:
the rockstar in my arms givin me lessons in patience (DARLING, I do love you!)
Mom n Sisters givin me chunk jewelery (i love them, chaamu N chutku!)
am selfishly thanking god, stars and all things higher, which marks you out for maybe another time, maybe when the time comes
what is 30 secs? THAT space between being and not being ... chilblains of the heart!
this has always been a peaceful city, almost zero communal violence, zilch of mob hooliganism ... to an extent of being dubbed as one of the safest cities of the country... and a handful of "pathetic-excuse-for-human-beings" destroy the purity and sanctity and ruthlessly rob the innocence, the pristine camraderie of citizens.
add to that the 30secs of fence between being the witness and the victim... and you realise you were thisclose to loosing precious... and you do not know if to cry with grief (for the world-peace crowd) or laugh with relief?
you just cant shake the feeling... its un-nerving
and you brought another tiny human being in this world ... you want to wrap yourself around him physically, be the shield and the knowledge that you cant...
the helplessnes suffocates you ... the un-shed tears are frightening....
theres enough chaos in the universe, we DO NOT NEED the terrestrial variety... man should stop competing with universe for once and all...
there was an explosion, bodies strewn on the street ... 90% of the people here are our guests, different race and nationalities and this place seduced the bohemian in everyone, a haven for the oshoites, care-be-damned populace of the world, the moving population which decided that day, like every other day to taste the smoke and the coffee, the multigrained toast with a bowl of cellophane wrapped fresh fruit... knew nothing it would seal their fate forever - a fate of being a victim/survivor/witness to this. the most favorite haunt, the spa-for-mind for like ever ... brought down like a pack of cards... unwittingly, a dangerously place cooking-gas cylinder and a boho with a cigar became the glove and hands behind this undoing.
an explosion is an explosion, be it of any variety... it kills without any doubts, it destroys without second thoughts. And endless hours of musings, book readings, romancing, flirting, dating or just plainly being with self n coffee... while hobnobbing with the world peace crowd - a crowd which was always a throwback of 60s flower power or a french univ grad gathering... all gone... !
if this place dusts itself and gets up again and i am so hoping/praying on my knees... it does... i would know all the peace talks and strangers being nice to stangers in "we are the world" motto... the septugenerian from israel to the boho-chic to the tattoo-for-shirt dude... were not just brain roughage... but the power of sound!
update: it WAS a bomb blast... i HATE TERRORISM...
december oh nine, 3 months in post partum, i was at it again... random surfing and my random surfing is not your average "stumbleupon" but very much orchestered to be the best online analogy of pub-hopping... yep, am a closet party maniac and a blog-junkie... well, not really a closet. digression is one of my vices or virtue, or whatever way you choose to look at it.
and suddenly out of no where, like a gift from cyber-god, my very personal deity, i was sent a basket ful of goodies, heres a sample:
when the light fade into darkness.......an urge to consume the self surfaces ...holding the thoughts n senses at mercy..they entangle me in web...a web of desires...a web of divinity......a web of realization ...realization of truth. if i'd fight all my life to get along my desires......the sun wud still shine...with rain on my side.....the darker it grows ...more worthy it grows....more sunlight i'd feel on my face.......if i hide from the rain...i'll risk losing the sunshine...............tragic equals surreal.......end marks the begining........to whole new era of my passion...in a more delightful surrounding.........if hope is betrayed ...theres faith to look upon....if faith runs dry.....theres light...my fingers are trembling with pain.....heart shivers when i travel time....to the glorified moments which would ...........deservingly vacated.......a painful vacation......or a meaningful time in the end.....soaked in emotions....i will stand forever.......mite not let me out of its clutches......the heart is entangled ....mind escaping........i cannot carry both of them together in one direction.......n when most of all...'m directionless.........theres cry ..n theres pain....it mite be for yu to see......its for me to feel..........theres something there.....i feel theres something mine.....more than something.....its all of life......i feel cursed at times...n blessed constantly ...of everything i ve known..............someone conspired .....took the breath out of me...not life.....not me......all the conjectures put aside.......but the best things at times...are just best to hide......mebbe we'll move forward ...mebbe not at all....if the devil has his wish.....we may not see each other at all... we run to hit...we hit and run ....then we hit to run.......more often than not ...just run away........to a world so plain ....a light so pale......all of the dark things...just hide away.......takes strength to know....breed fear to feel.....what stands besides and what shall fade away.............priced possesion is what they say...is what yu can own but cant give away....the night has a role.......it has to stay......for a glorious morning ....do i keep awake......if the morning is gloomy....do i sleep the day? dark men and mean women stare at me from a tower...'m i a mutant...... are they waiting to take me.... are murmuring "death makes an angel of us all and gives us wings to fly"....dont yu wanna fly...let the carnival begin.....a playground ,rain ,thunder....stars....n rocks........a seashore...n..waves ....flying high...burning time....in the summer sky....gently pass on by.. ...or... oh!!.....'will i be forsaken..?
he was grabbed and assaulted. he was taunted and battered. he was alone and they were at least 50.... and all this amounted to fun... a 5 mins of satellite time... few perfectly targeted sound byte. all because he just happen to stroll away from his mom, on a day out to experience the newness of the world, like every other growing toddler, he happened to be a little naughty,that sunday.
new heights of consumerism..make that new low, y'all!
am so angry and my keyboard is bearing all in its clattering. violence begets violence...
i was all ready to step out, having shared a joke or two with mom and the telly is suddenly flooded with this image of 200% SADISTIC crowd. it took all my effort to not howl and send something hurling on to that picture perfect Sony Screen? i flipped channels .... but couldn't flip the image inside ... tears of anger and guilt did nothing to assuage and am still in the daze, a shock of being an unwitting party to such atrocities.
the line between implying pathos with subtlety of journalism and beaming up naked aggression has long been stepped over by a section of media today. and the debate can go on like forever and yet... the fact remains, a crowd molested a child.... a CHILD for godssake... and enjoyed it! what did the media do? NOTHING! made a story out of it... flashing it on one of those 100s of mushrooming self styled, so-called bare-reporting news channel... for a want of anything more grim on that given day, to fill in all that airtime!
irony??? what am talking here has been up for arguments with all of our erudite journalists, so if there was a similar situation telecast on the likes of big names... it would already have taken the twitter world by storm and everybody who is anybody on twitter would be re-Tweeting the daylights of it!
another irony? media has a responsibility to report. yes. media as a human organization also has responsibility to be humane... when would we learn to be our basic selves? when would be learn to be human?
why would then a bomb going off or in-sync tsunami on that particular beach of East Midnapore, exactly that particular moment, not be a good payback... a well-destined fabled justice?
And the hardest part? Thoughts for my son. At these moments of helplessness that unravel in every direction: nothing I can do to stop the ugly parts of the world from rising up to meet him. Nothing to stop the fear he’ll know, or the anger, the assaults, the guilt, the loneliness, the anxiety that invariably tattoos the skin of our existence as human beings.
at times like this, with such helplessness... at such moments of pent up frustrations.. i wish the Superman was for real, if only this one time.
And, no, the call to PETA did not help. What was on screen was already a history.
My prayers with the baby elephant and
my vodoo curses at all those who were there and didnt do a damn thing.
Nope, I just cant find in myself, the greatness of forgiveness. Not right now!