Friday, May 29, 2009

profile pictures.. like anyone cares.

I have a new found liking to create cheeky profile pictures for my facebook account. I sometimes have wondered what good is it to make something that is not going to earn me anything but maybe, if it is a good day for my friends, a few like-ings and a few comments. What good will that bring me in any way.

I know. Many people probably look at my profile pictures changing almost every week and mutter, hm, if it ain't that kid again.

I know. I know its not going to earn me any money. I know you might call it a waste of time. But that's the point. Well, erm, that's not the point.

There is no point. I claimed to be an artist (I hate that term artist by the way) who don't try to attract attention. But what I do here is clearly attracting attention. I know I eat my words all the time. (Haha) I have no explanation for anything.

Life is. Just is. There is no why. There is no therefore. It just is. So are my profile pictures.

(At the end of this post, I am confused even more than ever, myself.)




Thursday, May 28, 2009

of alpine chase and oldies and my mother

Been listening to itunes randomized for the whole evening.
I just realised, I have Mint Chicks, a New Zealand group; Power Pop genre, my itunes says. Also came across Amitabh Bachchan's blog. He actually writes a blog and has pretty much deep details about his routine. Didn't read much though.

Akele akele kaha jaa rahe ho (Alone, alone, where are you off to?)
Hamme saath leja, jaha jaa rahe ho..
(Take me along, wherever you are off to..)


I picture that fellow running around magically after that red dressed lady across the Swiss alpine landscape, popping in at the solitary ski lift and then at the cafe and then above the snowline.

Thats because I am listening to that song, imagining it all in my head.

**

Another song,

Chala jata hoon, Kisi ke dhoondh me Dhadakte dil ke tarane liye

I am not sure what this song means. It just reminds me of winding roads up the Himalayas. Haha. I think it means the guy is walking around in the intoxication that someone has cast over him. Pretty cheesy poetry, but have to say I like it.

**

The best so far is this one,
Ajeeb Dastan

Ajeeb daastaan hai yeh
Kahaan shuruu kahaan khatam
Yeh manzilein hai kaun sii
Na woh samajh sake na hum (Ajeeb)


Meaning, what sort of strange story is this, where does it begin, where does it end?

**

I am not one for Bollywood movies. But I particularly have a fondness for Classic Bollywood movies and their music. I agree there's not much to appreciate in the pop culture then that I should patronise it so much. It's not like I am looking fondly back to so called 'vintage' era because I think that the age was more classy than ours'.

I think that our age and time is definitely the best in all terms, the culmination of all ages and eras of culture, fashion, music and cuisine. There has never been a more open society that accepts all cultures, subculture and style. I am not saying it is Utopia already, but there are signs that we are getting there, if ever we will.

My fascination for the classic Bollywood can be explained in the light of the imaginary world I create for my stories. Gabalpur, the imaginary town that thrived best in the golden era of 70/80s Bollywood and popular Indian culture (though my story is set in the present age) and a place that reeks of those nostalgia. The music from oldies therefore breathes life into my imagination and brings the stones alive, the noise and smell of the streets alive. The characters become warm with the music. The streets fill with activity and the sun shines warmly on the old towers of the town and school (visit www.elijahemory.wordpress.com).

But most of all, classic Bollywood reminds me of my mother. She used to be avid fan of films then. And used to listen to their music from an old Gramaphone that my grandpa had. She used to be called Zeenat Aman.
I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING IT UP. Here is a photo of Zeenat Aman that you can see for reference: She looked like my mum in their glory days :) (so they say so they say)

photo: Zeenat Aman

Monday, May 25, 2009

untitled again

I saw a guy who walked alone in the streets. Thinking of loneliness as a beautiful thing. Treading on sorrow and relishing the cold that seeped into his soul. The songs he sang rang with melancholy. Like a bird happy to be trapped in a cage.
I used to want to be like him, so unaffected by his troubles. Walking around in barefoot in that chill. Somehow he reminded me of freedom.

But again, what the front-door is freedom?

found

and I find myself in you, Jesus.
and I found myself in you.

untitled II

Jesus sat here too. In the darkness. And looked at himself in the glassy pond and saw his own face tainted. With sin. That he did not do. That people did to him when they rejected the sunshine and decided to bask in the darkness.

(I try too hard. Just show yourself.)

untitled.

The sad leaves pranced in whispers in the moonlit night. Somewhere behind the trees a gleaming darkness shifts. Watching me. Hoarse-ing me thoughts of pleasure that I find myself bowing to time and time again.
I don't like darkness. Never liked it. But this night I embrace it. I think it will give me security from the beam of the noonlight sun. It is not a safe place to be. Beasts of shadows prowl.

Take me away from here. If only the noonday sun is not too harsh. If only I can relive morning and escape the heat of the middle-day.
Moonlight gives me assurance, but false, I know. It is only a reflection. A scarred face posing as a gem in the night sky. I sit down in the moist grass. And hears the bustling wood-elves behind me. They scare me. They crouch beside me. And I want to leave already but then I am ashamed to summon morning now. Too ashamed to look at myself on the glassy pond.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Hottest Chilli in the world

WOO HOOO.

I have heard that some Naga people who are really passionate about Naga Chilli were campaigning to make the Food Board (or whatever administers over food-ish concerns) recognise the Naga Chilli as the hottest chilli in the world.

For a long long time, Mexican chilli was the hottest. Some said it was the Thai chilli. But now the Food Board (or whatever administers over food-ish concerns) has recognise that Naga Chilli IS the hottest chilli in the world.

How do I know. Hm. Well... Restaurant City (a game in facebook) gives you this daily quiz that you can win points with. And today they asked, Whats the hottest chilli in the world. And there was Naga Chilli. And lo and behold, I picked it and Bingo! I was right.

And so were all the Naga Chilli Enthusiasts who bid for this chilli to win that place.

(Well there's the thing about this chilli. It smells heavenly. If heaven was hot, then this would be its scent. )
--
Oh I am a Naga btw.

Friday, May 22, 2009

118/242 Salisbury Street

Ok. An account of my life in Salisbury Apartments on (Duh..) Salisbury Street, Christchurch City. Hm. Now, how do i start. ok i am going to type them all in lowercase. can't be bothered to go tabbing shift all the time. looks like i am not that ocd after all.

hm. its ugly. Fine.

Well Rajarshi Nath, Tony Ran Jing and I moved here last October. There's been up and downs. You need not know though. Those are domestic confidentials. *wink*

Three rooms. One bathroom. Normal enough, yeah. Oh, and we have a balcony too.

Evening time is the most busiest time in the apartment. There's normally some vague Indian food being cooked by Raj after an intense crying and weeping period of me cutting the onions and garlic. Sometimes Raj cooks Bengali food (he being Bengali) and when he does, he makes sure his flatmates know.

All good, bro. As the kiwis do it.

(Hm. And by the way, Elisha converted me to Red Bull today.)

Mornings are rather dreary at home and thats because we don't see much of the morning as a family. Rush to class one after the other, or if we bunk we sleep way past what human beings formally call morning.

Groceries time? Let's not say much there. Pak and Save (our preferred supermarket) is frikkin YELLOW. Need I say more? Yellow saps your energy man. Otherwise we go to ASian Warehouse. Just a block from our place. Where I get my Haldiram's and Indomie noodles (the official stomach saviour of the apartment).

We just watched a movie (forgotten the name), which was very funny, about some he-whore business and the people of Europe that we laughed our heads off to (which reminded me of Holland and Amsterdam, though NOT in the he-whore context!).

And we have our free gym. Well, yeah the gym fees are paid off in our rent I guess, but then it is a very good excuse to start gymming (gymning?).

There used to be a Punjabi group of people who lived across the walkway frommy window who played loud bhangra music. Note, noise can be a big offence in New Zealand. It IS quiet here. I am listening to Portishead song called Roads (that I got from Lina Tszyan, a Russian classmate who is presently attending a Claude Monet ORIGINAL EXHIBITION in Wellington. How cool is that? She asked if I wanted to go too. I want to see Monet's work in real, but then ahem, nah. I am far too conservative to do that too randomly.) and the rain is drizzling and I can still hear it though my room is nowhere near the outdoors. This is how quiet it is here.

Well its been a great stay I should say. We have our own worries and concerns and uphills as brothers (though formally flatmates), and yet somehow we stick together not because of the walls of the apartment but because we decide to, I guess. Well, whatever the reason is, this is what we are at. It is no accident. All purposed.

Whatever man. We still got to do groceries tomorrow after class. Damn it.

uhm.

i am, therefore i think

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Walking home in the rain with a black umbrella.

Walking home in the rain with a black umbrella.
Seeing the golden autumn poplar trees rise among the grey city line.
Seeing a passing woman smile in the cold.
Seeing the sun suddenly lighting up the glassy foot path wet with the rain.

**quotes**

"When you come to the edge of all the light you have, and you must take a step into the darkness of the unknown, believe that one of two things will happen to you--either there will be something solid for you to stand on or you will be taught how to fly." -Patrick Overto
**
My grandfather once told me that there were two kinds of people: those who do the work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was much less competition.
-Indira Gandhi
**
To gain that worth having, it may be necessary to lose everything else. -Bernadette Devlin
**
We think caged birds sing, when indeed they cry.
-John Webster

Thursday, May 14, 2009

rambo's civic

** cheesy is the new profound. shallow is the new deep. pink is the new blue. dark round glasses are in. pixelated halo is the new aura. :) is the new "s/he smiled".
exactly, do i need to have a point when i say anything or design anything or write anything. so stop frikkin trying to decipher and analyse what i say. alright?
** :)
** the tag in graphic design is that everything we do needs to have reasons, a point as to why it is done. is that really so? does it have to? 
** there's something cracking just outside the window of my classroom. our design studio rather, not our classroom. and everyone's gone home already though we still got 40 minutes of class time remaining.
** i just read an interview of John Key (Prime Minister of New Zealand) while i had vienna, and he seemed hopeful of the state of the country's economy and that it should be recovering by 2010 and that 2011 should be a big year again. good for us planning to look for job here.
** the title 'rambo's civic' has nothing to do with the post. like i said, i don't need to have a point with everything i do.
** go home now.

Monday, May 11, 2009

a tree

a tree
of promise
a tree of all tree
set on sunlight
brushed by swaying grass

a tree
makes me happy
makes me sad
a tree that i want to climb
forever and recline
at its branch under its silvery mane

a tree
that i have seen in my dream
that i see now in front of me
but a long distance to cross before it
that i keep pressing to
to hug its bough and drown in its scent

a tree
i cannot wait for thee
a promise a hope
a tree a tree a tree.......

Sunday, May 10, 2009

erp..

save the last dance for me

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Grind

I don't think I am allowed to speak too much about my latest project atleast until the 48 hours that started from 7pm today is over. Well, thing is, it is a 48 hours film competition, where film makers are given a topic, genre and elements that should be included in the film at one point in time and and then they are supposed to produce a film that is 7 minutes long at the end of that 48 hours.
Our's is s group from The Majestic Church, and guess what, we got the topic HORROR.
Now that is very interesting.
It is the best time for me to getting back to film. Just when I have finished a project on Stefan Sagmeister inspired 'Things I Have Learnt In Life So Far' and that too a graphic design/video film project that I had a lot of fun crafting.
Now this project, 48 hour one, looks very challenging. But more so because it is a group work and to train working in a group it is just right. The competition level just right.
..
Will complete this post tomorrow. :)

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

dreaming on the tenth floor

It's warm and I hear the warm buzz of machinery and life down below. For now I am on tenth floor with her, overlooking a vast landscape of the city. Somebody shuffles the paper loudly from behind the rows of books almost disturbing the stillness like a broken parchment that crumbles at a touch.
High up here tucked away in this little warm corner, lit most generously by the sun.
There is a bag of m&m's lying between us. And an already cold mug of Long Black that we snucked into the library. Heh. Epic. It made her sweater smell of coffee beans because we had to cross the security guards covering the cup with it.