Creep

for the longest time i thought that creep wasn't an original radiohead song.
i know, fuck!

When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here, ohhhh, ohhhh

She's running out again
She's running out
She run run run run...
run... run...

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't belong here...

~Radiohead

"we ain't got no money, honey, but we got rain"

call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it
used to.

I particularly remember the rains of the
depression era.
there wasn't any money but there was
plenty of rain.

it wouldn't rain for just a night or
a day,
it would RAIN for 7 days and 7
nights
and in Los Angeles the storm drains
weren't built to carry off that much
water
and the rain came down THICK and
MEAN and
STEADY
and you HEARD it banging against
the roofs and into the ground
waterfalls of it came down
from the roofs
and often there was HAIL
big ROCKS OF ICE
bombing
exploding
smashing into things
and the rain
just wouldn't
STOP
and all the roofs leaked--
dishpans,
cooking pots
were placed all about;
they dripped loudly
and had to be emptied
again and
again.

the rain came up over the street curbings,
across the lawns, climbed the steps and
entered the houses.
there were mops and bathroom towels,
and the rain often came up through the
toilets: bubbling, brown, crazy, whirling,
and the old cars stood in the streets,
cars that had problems starting on a
sunny day.
and the jobless men stood
looking out the windows
at the old machines dying
like living things
out there.

the jobless men,
failures in a failing time
were imprisoned in their houses with their
wives and children
and their
pets.
the pets refused to go out
and left their waste in
strange places.

the jobless men went mad
confined with
their once beautiful wives.
there were terrible arguments
as notices of foreclosure
fell into the mailbox.
rain and hail, cans of beans,
bread without butter; fried
eggs, boiled eggs, poached
eggs; peanut butter
sandwiches, and an invisible
chicken
in every pot.

my father, never a good man
at best, beat my mother
when it rained
as I threw myself
between them,
the legs, the knees, the
screams
until they
separated.

"I'll kill you," I screamed
at him. "You hit her again
and I'll kill you!"

"Get that son-of-a-bitching
kid out of here!"

"no, Henry, you stay with
your mother!"

all the households were under
siege but I believe that ours
held more terror than the
average.

and at night
as we attempted to sleep
the rains still came down
and it was in bed
in the dark
watching the moon against
the scarred window
so bravely
holding out
most of the rain,
I thought of Noah and the
Ark
and I thought, it has come
again.
we all thought
that.

and then, at once, it would
stop.
and it always seemed to
stop
around 5 or 6 a.m.,
peaceful then,
but not an exact silence
because things continued to
drip
drip
drip

and there was no smog then
and by 8 a.m.
there was a
blazing yellow sunlight,
van Gogh yellow--
crazy, blinding!
and then
the roof drains
relieved of the rush of
water
began to expand in
the warmth:
PANG! PANG! PANG!

and everybody got up
and looked outside
and there were all the lawns
still soaked
greener than green will ever
be
and there were the birds
on the lawn
CHIRPING like mad,
they hadn't eaten decently
for 7 days and 7 nights
and they were weary of
berries
and
they waited as the worms
rose to the top,
half-drowned worms.
the birds plucked them
up
and gobbled them
down; there were
blackbirds and sparrows.
the blackbirds tried to
drive the sparrows off
but the sparrows,
maddened with hunger,
smaller and quicker,
got their due.

the men stood on their porches
smoking cigarettes,
not knowing
they'd have to go out
there
to look for that job
that probably wasn't
there, to start that car
that probably wouldn't
start.

and the once beautiful
wives
stood in their bathrooms
combing their hair,
applying makeup,
trying to put their world back
together again,
trying to forget that
awful sadness that
gripped them,
wondering what they could
fix for
breakfast.

and on the radio
we were told that
school was now
open.
and
soon
there I was
on the way to school,
massive puddles in the
street,
the sun like a new
world,
my parents back in that
house,
I arrived at my classroom
on time.

Mrs. Sorenson greeted us
with, "we don't have our
usual recess, the grounds
are too wet."

"AW!" most of the boys
went.

"but we are going to do
something special at
recess," she went on,
"and it will be
fun!"

well, we all wondered
what that would
be
and the two-hour wait
seemed a long time
as Mrs. Sorenson
went about
teaching her
lessons.

I looked at the little
girls, they all looked so
pretty and clean and
alert,
they sat still and
straight
and their hair was
beautiful
in the California
sunshine.

then the recess bell rang
and we all waited for the
fun.

then Mrs. Sorenson told
us:
"now, what we are going to
do is we are going to tell
each other what we did
during the rainstorm!
we'll begin in the front
row and go right around!
now, Michael, you're
first!..."

well, we all begin to tell
our stories, Michael began
and it went on and on,
and soon we realized that
we were all lying, not
exactly lying but mostly
lying and some of the boys
began to snicker and some
of the girls began to give
them dirty looks and
Mrs. Sorenson said,
"all right, I demand a
modicum of silence
here!
I am interested in what
you did
during the rainstorm
even if you
aren't!"

so we had to tell our
stories and they were
stories.

one girl said that
when the rainbow first
came
she saw God's face
at the end of it.
only she didn't say
which end.

one boy said he stuck
his fishing pole
out the window
and caught a little
fish
and fed it to his
cat.

almost everybody told
a lie.
the truth was just
too awful and
embarrassing to
tell.

then the bell rang
and recess was
over.

"thank you," said Mrs.
Sorenson, "that was very
nice.
and tomorrow the grounds
will be dry
and we will put them
to use
again."

most of the boys
cheered
and the little girls
sat very straight and
still,
looking so pretty and
clean and
alert,
their hair beautiful
in a sunshine that
the world might
never see
again.

~Charles Bukowski

Post-It #10

From Belgaon with Love

The funniest thing happened.

I needed to send a package to Brussels in Belgium. So the other day I went down to the post office and sent it by registered post. They charged me Rs. 35, and in the back of my head I thought, "Oh how cheap." But considering I'm pretty much saving every penny I earn nowadays, I didn't question! Yesterday, I got a call from the post office saying that my packet has come back to the postoffice because it was accidently sent to Belgaon instead of Belgium, and the office clerk made an error. And I need to come and pay the difference. And the difference was  Rs. 724!

Lesson learned: Any package going out of India by registered speed post can in no way be less than Rs. 400. As told to me by post-office master.

Post-It #9

Post-It #8

Post-It #7

Post-It #6

Such pretty lightning

Post-It #5

Post-It #4

Post It #3

Post It #2

Vision for Vision in Liberia

I made a small donation to the Centre for Vision in the Developing World after watching this TED Talk the other day. And look what they sent me!

Dear Ms Ramchandani,

Just a quick note to thank you for your recent kind support for the Centre for Vision in the Developing World. We have recently returned from a deployment in Liberia where we trained volunteers to screen and distribute eyeglasses in a pilot programme with Global Vision 2020, a US based charity that we're working with as an international distribution partner (www.gv2020.org). 1000 pairs of eyeglasses were distributed and we were very encouraged to see our training process and dispensing protocols working very well. Your support is essential to making these things happen.

With best regards,

David

Who knew I'd be helping my own bretheren.

Post It #1

"A Singer Must Die"

Now the courtroom is quiet, but who will confess.
Is it true you betrayed us? the answer is yes.
Then read me the list of the crimes that are mine,
I will ask for the mercy that you love to decline.
And all the ladies go moist, and the judge has no choice,
A singer must die for the lie in his voice.

And I thank you, I thank you for doing your duty,
You keepers of truth, you guardians of beauty.
Your vision is right, my vision is wrong,
Im sorry for smudging the air with my song.

Oh, the night it is thick, my defences are hid
In the clothes of a woman I would like to forgive,
In the rings of her silk, in the hinge of her thighs,
Where I have to go begging in beautys disguise.
Oh goodnight, goodnight, my night after night,
My night after night, after night, after night, after night, after night.

I am so afraid that I listen to you,
Your sun glassed protectors they do that to you.
Its their ways to detain, their ways to disgrace,
Their knee in your balls and their fist in your face.
Yes and long live the state by whoever its made,
Sir, I didnt see nothing, I was just getting home late.

~Leonard Cohen

Love Letters

The last post led me to google "Love Letters"
I found a really sweet site: http://www.sleeptrip.com/300loveletters/

How the fuck can I miss you, when I have this?

Clare, I just wish I could come up with something as incredible as you just did. I love you so much, thank you for making me feel like I matter, like anything matters. Because of you I finally know what its like to feel that I mean enough to someone to make a lasting impression on their life. I didn’t know people could be so understanding and so influential before you and it gives me hope for everyone else. I know I’ve said it all a million times, but it just feels so good to think that maybe there is a point to all of this. My point is to make a point for those who want it, to help you make your point. You make me feel the best I ever have and quite possibly ever will. If everyone was as open as you, we wouldn’t have nearly as many problems and maybe everyone could have at least one person to give it all to. I wish that people had someone like you to go to, as you said, to feel the amazement I do when I have that chance. You mean the world to me and I don’t think I can describe how much I love you and love being with you. No matter where we travel; no matter what twists and turns and decisions we make, whether they be amazing, terrible, easy, difficult, right, wrong, ugly, beautiful, life-shattering, or a complete restoration; no matter the path we chose for our entire lives; I know I will never forget you, I will never stop loving you, and I will forever remember the way you changed my entire life. I love you, I can’t wait to see you, and you are in my mind, always and forever.
Love,
Justin

(via rock.too.fast.for.love)

Let's look at the sky then

Never love a wild thing... you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up... If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky.

— Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's

(via mountainsofmolehills)

"Supple"

When the word supple parts my lips, some men snicker
but I'm not thinking of a certain skin or of branded leather,

but of how the weak gain dominance through leverage,
turning a woman onto her stomach until she tries to rise.

When pressured, the bones also respond.

~Beth Bachmann, Temper, 2009.

Today I Shall Make: Mangalorean Fish Curry

Ingridients
For the masala
1 tsp coconut oil
3 tsp coriander powder
pinch of fenugreek seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds (saunf)
8 pieces of pepper corn
1 tsp mustard seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
15 red chillies
1 grated coconut
2 sliced onions
8 pods of garlic
100 ml water

For the main preparation
2 tbsp coconut oil
2 sliced onions
10 curry leaves
2 chopped tomatoes
500 gm filleted fish
prepared masala
1 tsp salt
2 tbsp tamarind paste
100 ml coconut milk

Methods
For the masala
Heat oil in pan. Add coriander powder, fenugreek seeds, fennel seeds, pepper corn, mustard seeds, cumin seeds and red chillies and dry roast them.

Now add grated coconut, onions and garlic. Saute till the onion turn light brown. Then add water and grind them together.

For the main preparation
Heat oil in pan. Add sliced onions, curry leaves and saute the onions till it looses colour. Then add chopped tomatoes and prepared masala, and stir-fry till fat separates. Add fish and stir fry. Add salt, tamarind paste and coconut milk. Mix it well.

Garnish with curry leaves and coriander leaves. Serve hot.

subtitled

i went for a documentary film yesterday, called Bilal, screened at Alliance Francaise (Mumbai). Now the seating wasn't stagerred, so for the most part, it was difficult to read the subtitles (most of the film was in Bengali). Would it be too distracting to place the subtitles at the top of the screen instead? More so for foreign-language documentaries than any other? Has anyone tried it?

Facebook

I've taken the easy decision to deactivate my facebook account.
It's just all too much.

Flickr introduces Galleries

Flickr has introduced a new feature called "Galleries." You can make as mamy galleries, with a limit of 18 photos in each. Still it's enough. I put hp, diti, nash, sonal, and parag in mine, so far. Do see.

Our Buggy Moral Code

vastandamazing

The Cat Piano

The Cat Piano from PRA on Vimeo.

end of the movie

There should be a website called endofthemovie.com where you can ask a question on how any movie ended. Similarly, there should be beginningofthemovie.com. Then bad cable that randomly goes off and late-latheifs like me will be alright.

The Longest Way!

The Longest Way 1.0 - one year walk/beard grow time lapse from Christoph Rehage on Vimeo.

Stand By You - Stand By Me

repeat

Kya kare zindagi isko hum jo mile,
Iski jaan kha gaye, raat din ke gile
Raat din gile…
Meri aarzoo kamini,
Mere khwab bhi kaminey,
Ek dil se dosti thi, yeh huzoor bhi kaminey,
Kya kare zindagi isko hum jo mile,
Iski jaan kha gaye, raat din ke gile…
Kabhi zindagi se maanga, pinjre mein chaand la do,
Kabhi laanten deke, kaha aasmaa pe taango
Jeene ke sab kareene the hamesha se kaminey,
Kaminey kaminey kaminey kaminey,
Meri daastaan kaminey, mere raasten kaminey,
Ek dil se dosti thi, yeh huzoor bhi kaminey…
Jiska bhi chehra cheela, andar se aur nikla,
Masoom sa kabootar naacha to more nikla,
Kabhi hum kaminey nikle, kabhi doosre kaminey,
Kaminey kaminey kaminey kaminey,
Meri dosti kaminey, mere yaar bhi kaminey,
Ek dil se dosti thi, yeh huzoor bhi kaminey…

~ Kaminey, from Kaminey
--------------------------------------------------------

Thode bheege bheege se thode nam hai hum,
Kal se soye voye bhi to kam hai hum.

Thode bheege bheege se thode nam hai hum,
Kal se soye voye bhi to kam hai hum.
Dil ne kaisi harkat ki hai,
Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai,
Aakhiri baar mohabbat ki hai,
Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai,
Aakhiri baar mohabbat ki hai…

Aankhein doobi doobi si surmayee madham,
Jheelen paani paani hai bass tum aur hum,
Hmmm baat badi hairat ki hai,
Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai,
Aakhiri baar mohabbat ki hai

Hmmm khawab ke bhoj se, kapkapati hui,
Halki palkein teri yaad aata hai sab,
Tujhe gudgudana… satana yuhi sote hue,
Gaal pe teepna… meechna bewajah besabab.

Yaad hai peepal ke jiske ghane saaye the,
Hum ne gilehri jhoothe matter khaaye the,
Yeh barqat unn hazrat ki hai.

Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai,
Aakhiri baar mohabbat ki hai

~Pehli baar mohabbat ki hai, from Kaminey
--------------------------------------------------------

Ummm hmm umm hmm
Ummm hmm umm hmm

Tune jo na kaha
Mein woh sunta raha
Khamakha bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha

Tune jo na kaha
Mein woh sunta raha
Khamakha Bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha

Jaane kiski humein lag gayi hai nazar
Is Shehar mein Na apna tikana raha
Koi chaht se na ab apni chalta raha

Khamakha bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha
Dard phele se hai jyaaada
Khud se phir yeh vaada
Khamosh Nazrein Rahein Bezubaan

Abb Na pehli si baatein hai
Bolo to Lab thartharatein hai
Raaz yeh dil ka na ho baiyan
Hoga na ab asar humpe nahin
Hum safar mein to hai Humsafar hai nahi

Door jaata raha Paas aata raha
Khamakha bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha

Aaya woh phir Nazar aise
Baat chidne lagi phir se
Aankhon mein chubhta kal ka dhuan

Haal tera na humsa hai
Is khushi mein kyon gumsa hai
Basne laga kyon phir woh jahan
Woh jahan dur jis se gaye the nikal
Phir se aankhon mein karti hai jaise pehal

Lambha beeta hua ,Dil Dukhata raha

Khamakha bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha

Tune jo na kaha
Mein woh sunta raha
Khamakha bewajah Khwaab Bunta raha

Jaane kiski humein lag gayi hai nazar
Is Shehar mein Na apna tikana raha
Koi chahat se abb apni chalta raha

Bhuj gai Aag thi Daag Jalta raha...

~Tune jo na kaha, from New York