My "pome"

I traversed a great distance to be here today
So it hurt tremendously to hear the voice say
All that I thought will be, will not
My hopes, my plans, to the ground have been brought

You needn't have asked me to believe and trust
Only to turn all my dreams to dust
I sit here imprisoned, without any chains
So much I could say, but I'm forced to refrain

Bitter and angry, I hope not to become
Or drown my sorrows in a bottle of rum
Perhaps it was written above in the stars
That it would be cancelled, my chem practicals class.

WORLD THEATRE DAY CELEBRATIONS

MASQUERADE
presents

THUS SPAKE SHOORPANAKHA SO SAID SHAKUNI
by Poile Sengupta

a play the delves into the past....
to connect to the present...

What have Shoorpanakha and Shakuni got to do with love and global terrorism?
Should we hate a woman because she wants love?
Should we isolate a man because he wants revenge?
ALL this and more... intense but humorous

FIND OUT...
March 23 (7pm), 24 (7.30 pm), 25 (4.00 & 7.30 pm) & 27, 2007
at TOP STOREY, Alliance Francaise

Directed by Krishna Kumar
in the cast - Amit Singh, Gayathri Sreedharan, Shyam Rajagopalan, Prateeksha C & Neeraja

Boarding Passes - Rs. 100/-
available at all Landmark outlets, Alliance Francaise (2827 9803)
or call 93802 86129 / 98411 17773 for direct booking

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As our ancestors said, Tathaastu - So Be It !!!
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Peace. Please!

Nature, it is said, is supposed to fill our hearts with joy. It echoes the rhythm of our heartbeat and the music in our souls. It also gives you a throbbing headache, at 7 on a Sunday, especially when you study in a college which is 40 kms away and have to get up at 6 on weekdays, when this soon-to-be-extinct bird comes and sits in the AC vent and begins making the following noise - mmmmmm. mmmmm mmmmm mmmmmmm. To elaborate, it isn't a hum and it isn't a coo. It is a combination of a sharp nail scraping a blackboard and a man trying to say "sarcophagus" in his dying breath.

But yes, i respect nature, so I decide to adjust, and sleep instead in the late evening, hoping to catch an hours rest. Now my watchman has decided, that being our trusty guardian, he needs to prove his worth to us. And to show us that he is not sleeping, he will hit anything he sees with this nice long stout soon-to-be-broken-in-half wooden stick. Again. And again. And yet again. He hits pillars and floors, babies and dogs, but with all due respect to his ear for melody, he does it all in the same monotonous brain crunching note.

And so I decide, being the flexible creature I am, to sleep in the bus. I normally rest my head on the shoulder of my obliging and comfortably short friend, and am just dozing off when she decides to hum. And the humming, thanks to the hollowness of her bones, echoes loudly in my ear, and I am forced to wake up, and growl till she swears never to sing again.

I am now going to lock myself in my room. I am going to stuff cotton in my ears, switch off my phone, close all the windows, switch on the AC and lie in bed. Dare you disturb me, and you shall be renamed soon-to-be-killed-by-a-raging-red-eyed-minor.

It better be, a good night.

If.

“You see each of us as a brain, an athlete, a basketcase, a princess and a criminal
But you see, each of us is a brain, an athlete, a basketcase, a princess and a criminal”
-The Breakfast club

How long do you need to be with someone before you can truly say that you know them? A few weeks? Perhaps a few months? And what if fifty years later, you realize that there is a side of them you never knew. Do you feel deceived? Or intrigued?

Letting someone into your beautiful world isn’t easy. It isn’t just about sharing your dreams, and your taste in music. It is about allowing them to discover you, and wanting to know more. Memories that they cherish, ideas that they nurture in the dusty corners of their minds, the few little quirks that make them human, the few traits that make them unique, the passion that drives them, the inhibitions that deter them.

If you knew that the word “gooseberries” can kindle the strongest and sweetest memories of my childhood, if you knew that I sniff around for the smell of the musty old chair and soon as I enter my grandmothers’ home, because it reminds me of the house I grew up in, if you knew that I don’t mind having anything on my desk, as long as it is arranged in neat piles, if you knew that I go berserk if anyone brushes their teeth in front of me, if you knew that Moonface and Silky still hold a magical place in my heart, if you knew that I will always cherish the world “Little Men” lent me, if you knew all this, could you say you know me?

And if you didn’t, could you say it made a difference?