Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Glide. Soar. Close your eyes.
Forget. Pick up.
Flash of sunlight. Into the clouds. Open sky.
Earth. Green. Blue rivers. Fields.
Cool. Eagle soars.
Life flash by. Memories.
Rebirth. Soar again. Soar higher.
Touch carpet of lake with your toes.
See fishes in the water.
Across the peaks. Adorn with white.
Blinding brightness. Across the skies.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
I clasped my can of Coke. My just bought scarf hugging my forehead. I squinted across at the sand, littered with reddened tourists being cooked in the sun. My friends are down at the water, their tittering voices dissolved into the madness. I don't know why I felt intimidated by the sea. I just sat at the cafe, with a can of Coke, my SLR camera wrapped around my right hand... But that time of solitude - my mind washed by the song of the waves and swaying slightly to the random music that a cafe was playing - was beautiful. It is one of the moments that I cherish of Goa.
There were a lot to complain about at Goa. There were always things that I wasn't happy about. But what I would give to caress my toes in that warm sand again? Hear my friends' voices floating in as one with the voice of the sea.
To be lost in the adventure of the unknown, homelessness and being in a place no one knew me..
Warm sand beneath my feet. I now sit on my Kolhapuri chappals on the sand. The sun is warm - but when it disappears behind a cloud I am reminded it is not summer as yet.
Sumner is quite like Goa's beach that we were in. Little town, thriving on the advantage of the seaside. Small houses.
The sand is fine. It slips through your fingers like a fine cloth. The sea is blue, green, grey. The breeze is gentle and mannered.
Unstoppable. Unresting. Overflowing. Is the sea. Mystery. Dark. Green.
The sea holds a million stories. I look at it and see that it is smug. Mature. Old. Keeper of secrets. Unknown tales. It is tyrannous and repressive and yet liberating. it gives life and takes life.
Blue green grey mystery.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Christchurch has chosen to forsake the significance of the name. Now its just a name that forms in the lips of people, without any thought to it.
But again I should probably remind you, this is an extremely one sided opinion. I have only been watching the city from a very critical eye. I agree there are great things happening also. To mention the Majestic Church again, where they have a vision to win over Christchurch for the better. To retouch the culture, the arts with God, in the best possible way we can.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
There is an escape route that takes you to secret lake much smaller than any other lake I know.
I heard scant music coming from a vent through a thick grove of spruce trunks and I followed my ears.
I discover this lake that is cold and clear, the lapping water on the rocks like rain on clean fingers.
Sound that washes your thoughts and drips your fears cool.
No one bathes on its water. No, its too far for the human legs to take him.
It is not the distance, but it is very far. You need to hear the music.
Close your ears around the rugged trunks.
There is no one who plays the music.
It is just the wind running through the trees and their tresses.
And it is only meant to lead the inquisitive ear to the lake. Glass. Rippling.
But the horror.
It burns. It burns. The lake dries up. The mountain melts. The water singes my skin. My escape burns.
Disenchantment hates my world. And conspires against it.
And everyone on earth upholds disenchantment. And they win always.