Tuesday, October 23, 2007

In this world....

He sat pondering, if things would've been different, "how things would've been different" had he overcome that one last obstacle. The one that separates men from the boys, winners from the runners. Now all he could see across the table was a battered soul like his own, jaded by the familiar journey. He reflects upon the fact that its a voyage everyone has to go through. Yet, a few of them manage to enjoy the journey itself. He questions why he couldn't be like those happy people and sees the question mirrored in the eyes looking at him from across the table.

He knew those eyes, had seen, been seen by them and memorized each minute detail of those eyes which looked worn out beyond their age. He silently soaked up the knowledge of what they had gone through, what they were going through. Yet, not a word had been spoken, not since they parted ways fifteen years ago. Almost half their life they'd been away, yet the memories of the other half continued to haunt them. Bittersweet memories which he'd vigilantly stomped upon each time they started showing life, now overwhelmed him.

"He hadn't fail. Not according to the people that mattered", he kept telling himself. By all accounts, he'd been quite successful, respected, admired perhaps even envied by many. Yet, he couldn't but give in to the feeling that he'd failed somewhere, sometime. Looking up, he saw
tears welling up in the eyes. He couldn't decide if they were the tears of relief when two castaways meet in the middle of nowhere or if they were the tears of anger for having left them behind. After all in the earlier stretch of this journey, they were companions, companions who understood each other better than themselves.

He understood the pain in those eyes but knew little of the details. They spoke of the bad marriage, scavenging relatives, uncaring partners and endless seas of the loneliness. They longed for a time in the past when it wasn't so bad. He shudders as he thinks of his lonely sojourn in distant lands. He gathers the courage to speak at last, but words dry up in his throat. He wonders if he could atone for the cowardice of the past, if 'late' is really better than never and if having loved and lost is really better than never having loved at all. There he sits and tries for one last time, turning back time, trying to vomit the words he knew he couldn't bring himself to speak fifteen years ago.


Sad Lisa

She hangs her head and cries in my shirt.
She must be hurt very badly.
Tell me what's making you sadly?
Open your door - don't hide in the dark.
You're lost in the dark - you can trust me.
'Cause you know that's how it must be.

Lisa - Lisa, sad Lisa - Lisa.

Her eyes like windows trickelin�rain
Upon the pain getting deeper.
Though my love wants to relieve her.
She walks alone from wall to wall.
Lost in her hall, she can't hear me.
Though I know she likes to be near me.

Lisa - Lisa, sad Lisa - Lisa.

She sits in a corner by the door.
There must be more I can tell her.
If she really wants me to help her.
I'll do what I can to show her the way.
And maybe one day I will free her.
Though I know no one can see her.

Lisa - Lisa, sad Lisa - Lisa.
- Cat stevens

Monday, October 22, 2007

Slow news day

I understand the bombing in karachi was important, but did we need confirmation that Bhutto was safely escorted out of the place from every tom dick and harry even after the same thing had been reported by innumerable people who'd been interviewed?

Atleast that could be considered pivotal, but the Bobby Jindal euphoria? He claims quite clearly that he doesn't consider himself an Indian and doesn't consider himself a representative of the Indian section in the U.S, and still the media goes ga-ga over his election. On top of that, he's a conservative "against abortion and supports continued efforts in Iraq". Ah, and how can one forget the "Mahendra singh dhoni bowled over by deepika" and "Saif and kareena ...blh blah " aired once every five minutes for the entire day.

Of course, the news anchors themselves seem quite unable to lend any respectability to the news what so ever. Reminds me of a curious encounter with a couple in a dhaba( well not exactly an encounter). Turned out the lady wanted to become a journalist/reporter of some sort and the gentleman had been giving her gyaan of how she needed to work on her kannada skills and should learn to handle herself better and so on. Ofcourse she was put off by the direct criticism and the story went something like :
One pitcher of beer: 200Rs,
Being drunk enough not to know you're criticizing your girl friend: 500 Rs
Kiss and make up : priceless

Throw away your television

Throw away your television
Time to make this clean decision
Master waits for it's collision now
It's a repeat of a story told
It's a repeat and it's getting old

Throw away your television
Make a break big intermission
Recreate your super vision now
It's a repeat of a story told
It's a repeat and it's getting old

[Chorus:]
Renegades with fancy gauges
Slay the plague for it's contagious
Pull the plug and take the stages
Throw away your television now

Throw away your television
Take the noose off your ambition
Reinvent your intuition now
It's a repeat of a story told
It's a repeat and it's getting old

[Chorus]

Throw away your television
Salivate to repetition
Levitate this ill condition now
It's a repeat
-Red Hot chili Peppers

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Bicycle diaries

A second trip of 100+ km on my trusty bike(thats bicycle for you) in as many weeks has given me time to be philosophical and reason for my friends to think I have a strong masochistic streak.

Firstly details out of the way - Pearly valley or Muthyala Maduvu can be reached from bangalore in two ways. It is about 45 km from Silk board junction in Bangalore if one takes the hosur road.Go past Electronic city and you'll reach a turning into Annekal. Going past Annekal, there's only one road to follow, until you reach a "Y" junction. Path to the right takes to Pearl Valley and left reconnects to Hosur.

The second way is to go straight up Bannerghatta road past the wildlife sanctuary and there's only one road to follow that leads to Annekal. It looked as if it was going to pour down quite heavily on the morning of this trip and with choices in hand, I was confused between the two ways and ended up going half way along Bannerghatta road and then switching back to CSB. All in all covered ~60km on the way to pearl valley. Had a jolly good time and came back by the second route with the journey taking nearly 6 hrs. I had my share of epiphanies during the course of these two trips, which I thought to record here:

1) Even if you feel that you are under the weather a little, go on right ahead, fortune favours the brave. It might not rain and the clouds might just do you a favour by keeping out the sun.
2) Uphill slopes and downhill slopes are common on the road.
3) Every uphill is followed by a downhill slope.
4) Tougher the "uphill", smoother(and therefore more exhilarating) is the "downhill"
5) A lot of "uphill slopes" that seem daunting at first glance aren't really that difficult to overcome once you start cycling up them.
6) If you are on a nice comfortable downhill slope, remember that the next uphill is just around the corner. So don't sit on your ass but start pedaling little by little if you want to make it up without too much difficulty
7) You can have an all flat road, but it isn't too much fun. The best road is one with a nice combination of uphills followed by downhills (to bring in the exhilaration) followed by quiet flat parts(when you can sit back and relax a little)
8) Winds can heal your exhaustion when downhill, but can hurt you really bad when you are uphill.

Bicycle Race

Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like

You say black I say white
You say bark I say bite
You say shark I say hey man
Jaws was never my scene
And I dont like star wars
You say rolls I say royce
You say God give me a choice
You say lord I say christ
I dont believe in peter pan
Frankenstein or superman
All I wanna do is

Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my
Bicycle races are coming your way
So forget all your duties oh yeah!
Fat bottomed girls theyll be riding today
So look out for those beauties oh yeah
On your marks get set go
Bicycle race bicycle race bicycle race
Bicycle bicycle bicyi want to ride my bicycle
Bicycle bicycle bicycle
Bicycle race

-Queen