These two I fished out from a notepad, written a very long time ago. Not really sure when.
Today
A vast expanse lies ahead
The frothy mass roars in turmoil,
The horizon, indomitable.
The solitude, overwhelming.
Blood gushes and beats ferociously in your brain,
A meek existence of the sorts,
Life, in it's entirety is overwhelming.
Listen to the voice in your head.
Take time to think, think alone,
Don't let the vastness dampen your spirit,
The power of one, the power of you.
Seal your purpose of existence today.
I remember the one below was written during one of my zoology classes..
Sound - an art of sight.
Disconnected, left with the sounds of the self,
In a classroom, oblivious to sound.
Chalk scraping furiously away,
Chalk powder screaming to get away,
Rise and unite with the muskiness in the room,
Descends, it does, on drumming fingers.
Perceive these events I do out of sight.
Sense sound through sight? No, not a phase.
Oblivious to sound, I am all the time.
Blessed with eight eyes, eight legs to scurry me home.
Sound to me, is an art of sight.
Warning: This is fiction, spiders can hear! Just that they use the hair on their legs to localise the origin on the sound.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
A little something more to say
I have a little something more to say about my article on Stark Reality.
Aboard the 171, this time in Bangalore, after two years of travelling by auto,I notice that there might be a simple solution to the tortures of 27D and 29C. Having money in my pocket, more than granting me the comfort of the auto, has rather spared me the slightest inclination to travel by bus. It just so happened, that since we had to traverse to the other side of the city and had time on our hands we decided to give Bangalore buses a shot.
Some things never change and a rainy day is the best time to enforce that. The murkiness, the pungent smell,water dripping down the window panes (oh yes, Bangalore buses have windows!), people in your face, students infested at the back of the bus, music blaring out of their cellphone and irate elder people. One thing that is different though, is that the women occupy the front and the men, the back.
Why can't Chennai adopt the same policy? Ignorance? The state unwilling to change something that's been around forever now? One small change, one giant giant leap for womankind. So, how do we do it?
Oh, and about the giving buses a shot part, we got down after the claustrophobia finally sunk in.
Aboard the 171, this time in Bangalore, after two years of travelling by auto,I notice that there might be a simple solution to the tortures of 27D and 29C. Having money in my pocket, more than granting me the comfort of the auto, has rather spared me the slightest inclination to travel by bus. It just so happened, that since we had to traverse to the other side of the city and had time on our hands we decided to give Bangalore buses a shot.
Some things never change and a rainy day is the best time to enforce that. The murkiness, the pungent smell,water dripping down the window panes (oh yes, Bangalore buses have windows!), people in your face, students infested at the back of the bus, music blaring out of their cellphone and irate elder people. One thing that is different though, is that the women occupy the front and the men, the back.
Why can't Chennai adopt the same policy? Ignorance? The state unwilling to change something that's been around forever now? One small change, one giant giant leap for womankind. So, how do we do it?
Oh, and about the giving buses a shot part, we got down after the claustrophobia finally sunk in.
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