Thursday, December 27, 2007

How to be a poet!

The December 3rd (2007) issue of "Outlook", Fine Living Section had this to say on "How to be a poet"

"Find the perfect lover. Now lose him/her. Get sickly pale and wan. Go where the weather induces atmospheric mourning. Bitter cold is good. But Autumn when everything is growing, brown, brittle and dying, is even better. Throw together a few sentences, combining nostaligic reminscence with adjectives and cultural references for suffering and torture: tangles sheets, fevered brow, trembling legs, heavy heart, churning stomach, waterboarding. Now hie thee to a publisher and call thyself Keats."

huh! so much for good poetry!

Saturday, December 22, 2007


Nay, do not grieve tho' life be full of sadness,
Dawn will not veil her spleandor for your grief,
Nor spring deny their bright, appointed beauty
To lotus blossom and ashoka leaf.

Nay, do not pine, tho' life be dark with trouble,
Time will not pause or tarry on his way;
To-day that seems so long, so strange, so bitter,
Will soon be some forgotten yesterday.

Nay, do not weep; new hopes, new dreams, new faces,
The unspent joy of all the unborn years,
Will prove your heart a traitor to its sorrow,
And make your eyes unfaithful to their tears.

- Sarojini Naidu

Friday, December 21, 2007


You want to play the game dirty.. your choice.
I refuse to step into the dirt and the filth.
It is purely reflective of you.

I give a damn. But I'll fix it.
The dirt will be laminated and presented to you in due course. One week. Maybe less than that.

And then, of course, we play it all over. With our rules. With my head still held high and maybe a little bit of nose up in the air! And remember, no playing dirty, dears!

Who would be the photographer then ?

Wednesday, December 19, 2007


Who : Crazy Commie

What : On a mission - by hook or crook, in urgent requirement of Rs.11 Lakhs ASAP!

Why : To attain his object of desire! :)

[What to do, she comes at a high price!]

So here's our mission plan (mostly listed by Crazy commie himself) but couple contributed by the humble "facilitator" of the Mission plan:
  • Start a Trust Fund with the name "Help Crazy Commie fulfill his tamanna". Donations will be solicited, welcomed, begged and pleaded. 100 % no tax exemption. Strategy : Stand outside every new mall opening in Bangalore holding aloft a banner with the trust fund's name.

  • Request this certain person we know to sell his CRV to faciliate Commie attaining his object of desire. But the catch is, who would bell the cat ? ;)

  • 'Get into the insides' of the Object of desire and conquer from within. (This has been scoffed at by Commie himself!)

  • Buy a locker and run a marathon on a Sunday around Lalbagh, Cubbon Park, Ulsoor Lake and Sankey Tank. (somehow, the locker needs to be on the marathon too!)

The mind is okay, but the heart wants to go for it... this or that ? the R1 or the MT-01?

Take your pick and in case you decide to contribute to Crazy Commie (for no riding rights whatsoever), feel free to get in touch with the writer for negotiating a better deal with Crazy Commie!

The road is long and winding, but I have miles to zoom before I get off.

All this emanating from a 2 AM chat between 2 workaholics. Life just could n't get better!

Monday, December 17, 2007

handsome hunks....

How long does it take to look at someone and conclude he is a handsome hunk ?

2 seconds ? 2 minutes? 2 hours? 2 years ?

I dont need to keep looking at a Surya or George Clooney or John Abraham to conclude they are handsome hunks. Just a glance is enough!
(Apply this 'test' by substituting Brad Pitt for one of the names listed above).

And then mull over this : "I never resist temptation, because I have found that things that are bad for me do not tempt me" - George Bernard Shaw

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Hospital blues

One week in a hospital proved to be quite a humbling experience for me.

The emergency ward reminded me of a colony of ants – the doctors, nurses, support staff – all diligently working to save lives of people who land there- limping in pain, supported by their loved ones, unconscious in a stretcher having journeyed to the hospital in an ambulance, or brought in a wheelchair…

Its so diverse and similar at the same time – all have some medical condition which has to be urgently treated so that their lives are saved and they are able to lead a reasonably good quality of life with all their faculties in working condition.

In the course of 1 ½ hours on a lazy Sunday evening, the emergency ward saw so much activity – the nurses, doctors and support staff on duty – each one going about from one patient to the other in clinical fashion. Amidst the tubes, injections, bottles, syringes, tablets in the emergency ward, dark green curtains, made of thick cotton are pulled up to separate rows of beds lined up next to each other.

A nurse is taking blood to start the investigation for a middle aged lady, appearing weak, when suddenly an old man barely breathing, is rushed inside in a stretcher. I learn from the conversation which follows that he has just had a heart attack. The first few minutes is crucial here to enable the person to live. Hence, this case assumes more importance than the other and all attention of the team is focused on ensuring that proper and timely medical care is given to ensure the human life is not lost.

Just when one thinks, the rush has sort of settled down, in comes a stretcher with a young man covered in blood. He is an accident victim, accompanied by his friend.

The stoic expression in the faces of the health care professionals explains it all. Its not indifference but a calm evaluation of a case – very much like any other professional and they put in their best efforts to salvage atleast a decent deal, if not the best.

And in some depressing moments, I held on to that faith- faith in the medical system and the medical professionals. (Thanks to L for pointing that road to me!)


One warm Tuesday morning, I stand by the window of the 9th floor room at the hospital and look gloomily at the bustling traffic flowing below on Airport Road- buses, cars and two wheelers jostling for space with the pedestrians, cyclists and omnipresent autorickshaws that dot the city’s roads. A lone policeman stands in the middle of the traffic junction trying to take charge of the busy intersection. All of a sudden, I am shaken out of my dull reverie by a sudden “whish” like sound and lo! a kite flies to the window sill, neatly perches itself therein and stares at me.

The kite looks so majestic and beautiful, its big, brown eyes sharply looking here and there, the moment seems so magical!

I see kites every morning, on my way to work as they are forever hovering around a storm-water drain across my house, but to see one in such close proximity, its quite a thing! I sense my excitement levels slowly rising, when as suddenly as it came, it flutters its wings and soars into the sky, soon out of sight.


One moment, she lies weakly on the bed, eyes closed, hands clasped together, no sign of life except her breathing and heart beat. And then, after what seems an eternity, her eyes laboriously open and look at me deliriously. A faint smile of recognition appears in her eyes and she tries to utter something, but no words come out. Unclasping her hands, she stretches her right hand toward my right hand and reaches out to hold me.

Life is all about these small moments, I think. When we would do anything in our capacity to get the smile and life back on the face of someone we love and care about.


For a hospital, Manipal Hospital has a very apt and interesting tagline. “Inspired by Life”! In moments when I pushed myself to remain positive and strong, the tagline played its part in keeping my inspirational quotient alive and kicking. One just needs to look at life all around us to feel and remain inspired.

As Activist/filmmaker KP Sasi states in a newspaper article I read some time back : “ I derive my creativity from life. Mainstream views of creativity are set in certain norms. If you write, act, make films, sing, you are creative. But I think life is creative. You need creativity to jump onto a running bus, to hang on in a local train in Mumbai, to cook sambar well. All protest is creative.”

Written on 2nd December 2007