CrOw GodDesS

Standing on the platform

Before the "rush-hour" began

Talking about nothing in particular

Or to be precise, about Soha Ali Khan...

A crow zipped past,

Brushed her cheek...almost

He was startled. She shrugged it off.

Its not the first time and neither is it the last.

He seemed a bit droll

As he said more, about

These harbingers of death

And their darker rigmarole!

She listened as he went on

about Goddess Dhumavati

the unmoveable unmoved eternal widow

He said, they say resembles a crow.

The Goddess of unsatisfied desires, The Shakti

(Without her Shiva) written about in books

So what about her she asked, He said

You must see how she looks!

How does she look?

Thin, tall and gaunt.

What does she do?

While he ran to catch the train

he turned and said...

She looks like you!

WTF!

Neither Rushdie helps nor Gurdjieff,

with their wiseacring pages,

Neither help torrented discographies,

of the Doors and Guns n roses.

I am still knocking doors,

tirelessly for a clue.

I am still depending

on tentative guesses!

I have exhausted consolations,

and the Gtalk therapy.

the calls back home....

and the prescriptions.

But also my hope.

My courage.

Surely my will!

the dread only grows!

Finished today.

Exhausted some more.

Tomorrow,

opens another door...

Just WTF is this!

WTF!

SHE

Chris Etheridge / Graham Parsons

She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
But there's a secret garden she hides


She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, don't think twice


You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get
To that place where you can't remember
And you can't forget
She'll lead you down a path
There'll be tenderness in the air
She'll let you come just far enough
So you know she's really there


She'll look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
She's got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay
A million miles away

KoLkata 2

Kolkata is not “lazy” or “laidback”. It is throbbing passionately, simmering (literally and metaphorically) with only a semblance of laziness if you will. A colleague says, the judgment that Kolkata is lazy may have arisen from a general tendency to label everyone and everything involved with the arts, literature and other such leisurely activities as “laidback”. Kolkata has exemplified aesthetics since forever, thus, falling prey to being labeled if you like. Locals here have options of and time for theatre, concerts, exhibitions and hence not running around like headless chicken in malls in Kandivli, malls in malad, malls in Andheri and malls in Mulund. Not yet! Anyhow, a city which was at the forefront of political, social and artistic reform and movement cannot be lazy, not THEN and not NOW.
I have seen very few beggars in Kolkata and none at all at traffic lights. I do not know the reason. I have seen women, dressed like how we do back in Mumbai, but I have seen very few women. There are still a larger number of independent, quaint homes lining the lanes of Kolkata than high-rises or apartments. This, however, may not be the case after a year. No pigeons (read that Ramya) except for at the Dakshineshwar temple! I have not seen too many fancy cars and the roads seem like the domain of the yellow ambassador cabs. The streets are FULL of them and their size and color makes the swanky esteems and civics look dim-witted, lackluster and boring! The sheer number of these darting yellow blobs with the sun beating down upon them casts a YELLOW glow on the entire frikking city. Kolkata gets its color from them AND from the dusty dark green shutters adorning windows of ALL houses. And I thought the color of Kolkata was RED :-)

Speaking about connections I feel with this place, I discovered something that added to it. My ever so charming hotel is situated right next to a 3 storeyed brick red building by the name of "Jamuna" and anybody entering the lane leading upto my hotel cannot fail to notice the white alphabates bolted vertically on the brick red wall! I see my own name each day as I enter the lane that leads to my hotel. And it feels great!
And to boot, I stumbled across in crowded goriahat on a ballet school by the name of "Udayan".
I love Kolkata!

I return tomorrow and not at all with a sigh of relief as is usually the case. Rather, kolkata is now one of those "living-things" I write about and talk to. We are exchanging good-byes and i have promised to return.