obscure textures

Dawn

2011-07-28T00:54:00.000-07:00

who could savour teh drastic desires of time. I have come here to mingle with my unperturbed soul. The amount illicit thought surmount the peace within.

Maybe there is another twilight before dawn. Yes, there is a chance.

snap

2011-07-07T04:53:00.000-07:00

salvations of desire runs through the agony of existence

Vida con mi novia

2011-07-02T21:56:00.000-07:00

in this new place that i have come to know.

I struggled for a while,

a while seemed an aeon.

Now, the aeon seems an ant,

the ant is a symbol of life.

A desire one must fulfill

by the vortex of the whirlpool, Swooosh!

I sit here

the horizon of a wide-frame lense before me. I screen in between, the struggle i had to go through. But, I was not alone, I do not see this drama staged alone. i have a soul with me.

A soul who sees what i do

who breathes what i breathe

who struggles what i struggle with.

Such is the swim ride called Vida. That as long as love, as along as you struggle...

You Live. and you love....

Losing Control

2011-05-02T20:10:00.000-07:00

perhaps the notion of control is overrated. I sit here, this long weekend.

Control is a state of mind more than a kinesthetic achievement. This day, i retrospect at the weekend spent well, went fast.

Control is more often related to a physical object. Recently, i lost something expensive in monetary terms, in societal values. I LOST IT!!!

Instead of a feeling of loss, the incident bore me a sense of relief and enlightenment; what it means to be out of control. It was PEACE.

I do not know where we lie. We need the material goods to keep us happy, yet they bind us in an incomprehensible bond is is smeared with afflictions of materialism. It is only when we lose these things that we know how loseable they are!

Time

2011-04-18T19:30:00.000-07:00

Memory always plays the cushion for a bedless creature.

Reminding me of the past that i am living now.

Living tomorrow

2011-04-06T06:57:00.000-07:00

Who wants to know what the future holds?

Who wants to know what the future holds!

the present dilemma lies in the denial of the present!

Adan wakes up with a heavy hangover of thoughts about the day ahead. He doesn't know whether it will go smoothly for him.

As he starts thinking, the routine takes over him,.

Brushhh, coffee, eat...think no time....

The present is always fine, because it is here.

3 Years-A Passage of Time

2011-04-03T23:46:00.000-07:00

I have been wondering...what was i doing three years ago? I was still completing my masters'. I had an illusory idea (which was pretty strong then) that i would be working in the advertising industry. I had studied enough, i thought.

I was all geared-up for my role in the workforce, earning my living like some of my friends. I had forgotten that i was more comfortable in academics, or being a student of literature.

The idea of changing the paradigm of my reality was creating a tsunami of thoughts in my mind.

I jumped.

Within a fortnight, i felt like a fish out of the water, or more precisely, a hippopotamus outside a water. I withdrew.

I ended-up studying, in the classroom. Inhale.

The rest of the three years passed smoothly with some unforeseen discoveries. I withstood, i lived.

I swam across the seas and built my dreams on sands. Three years just flew by.

But i lived my life, I am Adan.

I look to see where ill be 3 years down the line...

No need speculating, because they will pass...and i do not where ill be. But i know, i will enjoy our life.

Escape into Life 2

2011-03-29T21:47:00.001-07:00

He mused.

He drew.

colors.

splash.

aaahheesssh!!!!!!!

Black on brown

Paint

Van Gogh...yellow

Creation COnfusion

ADan says"the artist is the process that creates itself. Seize the opportunity and unleash the ignorance!"

Adan will come back again to work on this piece of art. It has just begun.

Process is above punctuation......

An Escape into Life

2011-03-27T01:43:00.000-07:00

The process of creation depends on the state of mind. Adan says that emotional upheavals are dependent on how you experience newer pastures. He has gone to a new place to experience life as it happens there.

Adan has just painted his finest painting till date. This is his first tryst with the Arts. He is elated. He has finally found his drug. People need escapes from their daily routines, routines that tend to define Life. There have been many avenues for people to escape: meditation, drugs, exercise, love, spirituality etc.

Adan has just found painting. The dilemma has just begun. Let us see what happens next...

Jangamma-the moving monk

2011-03-26T00:52:00.001-07:00

there is enough space for me to write. in fact its too much. thoughts are a plenty but words are so scarce that they cease to withdraw at the moment of inception.

i believe i am walking now. Battling the gravity of status quo is a battle with aphorisms. I made up my mind to instill the process of motion.

I am moving. So is my mind...so am i....

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.2

dots

2011-03-25T03:43:00.001-07:00

driven by the winds

a frame if time

dictating the mind.

evacuate your thoughts before they blow you away

mired in the steep highways of undesirable fortune

...

Adan went on to newer trysts with instincts. He felt and absolute urge to be drawn by hi thoughts. He went to the park that day, a day that provided enough syllables in his mind. He questioned the events, he was questioned by them.

Poetry is limited by posture

Patience is too long an utterance.

stretching the time

2011-03-21T08:40:00.000-07:00

you can paint time

time can paint you.

it is in the thought

the thought is in you.

you are in the maze

the maze is in you.

simple words can yet be so forlorn that thoughts cloud them. I have wondered today that there is no time to wonder. The work of life is that life is an archive of work.

late night today..see you

Meditation on the present

2011-03-19T22:35:00.000-07:00

I write this at a time when the allied forces have started to strike missiles and Tomahawks at Libya. I am still ruminating on the loss triggered by the massive earthquake in Japan. Where does perspective find a place amidst this indigestion of peace with chaos. I have been wondering where our personal ambitions go when people are dying in hoards. Where does economic growth grow if it can be washed away by waves of fury?

My art comes to me, as i reconcile with these ruminations. My art leaves quite often to random sojourns. I do not miss it. I suddenly intervene with my ignorance and realize that i too am an artists. A dilemma encapsulates my living surroundings.

This moment seems like a artistic process of creating something from the scrambled imaginings of the artist. The 'unproductive' moments are to be the most heralded for an artist. Sometimes it takes days, years and seconds for the artist to sit down shape his art. Suddenly, out of nowhere, comes the moment where the art starts melting into a product. A product that can be labelled, packaged and marketed for the consumption of a wider consumer.

Let us not judge this process. It has been going on for years now.

Time out...

The Antidiluvian Tomorrow

2010-10-22T20:43:00.000-07:00

So many rainfalls

yet such a thirst,

So many shadows

why is there still some light?

So much pleasure

in this trivial plight,

I stand different in the sea of poppies

waking-up to a slightest of silence!

So little doubt

yet an abundance of faith,

I smile and say "Hi"!

to your silent examination,

Blisters of humanity

in the trivial hint of imperfection,

I rise early to see the bluest canvass

to meet the smile-"why such a fuss?"

So many imaginings

yet this colorless disgust.

the concept

2010-08-15T04:27:00.001-07:00

the error in finding errors is rooted in an illusion of errors. i wish all only once a year, find the error here. i am prone to forget you for the rest of the year but just for one day that i care bcos i have been told to do so. the concept of having one day for you is the desire for 'orderliness'. i find this concept redundant to the limits of redundancy.

i have wished every soul that i know in this social world. then i do not know what to do. i do so bcos i am told so...i am bcos i am made.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.2

blank slate

2010-08-13T18:42:00.001-07:00

i wrote on my wall
so that millions had soul in sight,
i wondered how
blankness dawned
even when thousands knew what i thought

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.2

wavering winds of wits

2010-06-12T10:18:00.000-07:00

i am mapping my emotions again...blank,thought,blank,thought, blank, thought...thought, thought, thought...then the mind refuses to differentiate between meditation and commotion. Meditation is something for the confused, commotion is this confused person in a state of peace.i find myself somewhere in between these two posts.

i drove from Patparganj to Vasant Kunj, the a/c in the car does not in order to compliment the soothing heat that balms your skin, soothens your eyes and wrinkles your thoughts for the whole drive. i enjoyed the drive because my mind was somewhere else, not on the roads or the passerby or the accompanying vehicles. i woke up in fits of awareness(s), realising that i had been driving with the subconscious...hands on the wheels, feet on the pedals, eyes on the road...mind-somewhere else. i wonder how this marvellous feat resides under my doormat?? a surreptitious breeze of human achievement claps my senses, i am human.

lurking anxiety, fixing minds

2010-06-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

I have come home. i thought that i d be away from the angst of the anxieties caused by the discontents of mind and maybe the body. i believe that i have been a traveller where the path does not decide what you see, its your mind that rubs your body with the dusts of the sand beneath your feet. i bust my thoughts, but they still come back to me, i never think they are willing to abandon the premise of my own uncertainties.

i attain blankness in veneers. i meet them in between despair and meditation. i am home now, after a stay away from my woods. i thought home would be beyond the miseries of an uncertain mind. but alas!!home comes and there you find your own thoughts trapped. you have arrived, welcome home!!!

Internet Explorer 8: Features

2010-01-18T00:51:00.000-08:00

Internet Explorer 8: Features: "Map"

featured in the twilight of my day's emotions, i stepped out of my room just to witness the dullest of storms. She shouted at me for being late for the auditions. i went for the theatre with the least of emotions that an actor requires to manipulate.

detritus

2008-11-04T02:32:00.000-08:00

Adan knew what he wanted from his living...he looked up diary and rhushed to meet Sana....he knew that his relationship with her was a transcient melodrama.seeking to end the dis-harmony, he expressed his 10-yr plans to her. appaled at such a utopic functioning of his mind, sana left the bar. Adan's content just got sterdier. the last sip of her cappuchino summed up San for him. his esoteric ideals of judgement failed to meet the hunger of a civilised society.

speaking from the terrace, he told her one last time that he had loved her like none before.....he had to take the jump...he had to start his career as a bunjee-jumper......yes!!his 10-yr plan......to be the ace bunjee-jumper.....ridiculous detritus of an exalted mind....

tell me

2008-11-04T01:36:00.000-08:00

i find myself on the middle of the road...craving for direction...hese words sprang in front of me in my dreams last night..since morning, i have started to wonder about how dreams can start your day...you can tell me more clearly. can you? i felt that my day was and would be worthless...jus because of a dream...a line..??

one write poetry to subscribe one s inscription of thoughts.......why do you write poetry? can you tell me?......is it tedious to deconstruct the process of writing?why am i writing then? why do you write?

2007-11-12T07:30:00.000-08:00

starry skies i see,clouds i see
i see darkness,or does it see me?
walking on the pavement
i do stop at every crossroads,
dad says go straight
cousin says stop not,keep walkin.
i choose to remain still
or does stillness choose me?
i laugh i smile
i doubt if its gonna stay for a while
i say what da hell..its me
THERE is no space for doubt or ambiguity.

eye on da i

2007-05-04T06:39:00.000-07:00

i see light when it gets dark
erring is what am famous for
mark me wen i say i luv vodka more
add somewhat of a twist
dat gives u my life in a gist
don't go by d looks,it mite move u wi pity..
i ask jus 1 thing...can u see me?

hunger never dies

2007-04-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

On the far end of the road there is a figure of a woman walking towards me.The distance never seems to reduce,we are always apart,despite the walking we are doing.I am walking towards her,she is walking towards me,yet i can't touch her or discern who she is.The sky poses a gloomy background for such a script,clouds seem to growl in disgust,there is a commotion amidst the vultures .The prey is elusive,the cheetah in the savannah is still unsuccessful,it always seems to live in hunger...

Meera woke me up from this dreadful dream today.We have known each other for 5 years,married for 2 years.Our days at the university brought us in ignorance of each other.When we first met at the department library we knew each other best,from that day onwards I grew a stranger in front of her eyes,I have no clue about what she feels.Why does she need to talk to other people about our feelings for each other?Most of my preoccupations ponder over this issue.Meera is more sociable than I am,she goes to meet her friends,almost daily.For me keeping in touch with an old friend is an absurdity,Meera does it with fair eloquence.I miss out on talking to her ,about how beautiful she is,how the morning sky acts as a catalyst to a possible romance.

Meera immediately announced her intentions of waking me up.

"Listen,we have to go to shop with the Patel's,I told Veena Patel that we will be spending the day with them and you have taken the day off,don't let me down this time honey."Oh!I felt a terrible urge to run away from my home,from this city.What was happening to our relationship was quite evident to me.My life as a teacher forced me to ask myself,what was i teaching the students? I their teacher,was in a state of self-doubt,could love be limited to a limit?To Meera?Meera went for her usual morning jog in the district park,giving me time to think,about whom?I was hungry,moving towards the kitchen when the doorbell rang with a peculiar tone.

As I opened the door I met a deceitful illusion,it was Sonia.

when someone questions one's will
when life becomes so mundane
I decided,I was hungry still...

pavitra

2007-04-21T09:00:00.001-07:00

The evening sky was no less than poetry.The crimson hue of the land above brought a calm joy to one's face,especially that of Pavitra's,standing on the third-storey balcony.Peace could'nt have found a better time to descend,solitude knew no bounds.Pavitra smiled back at the sparrows walking on the pavements of the sky.The picture on the far left of the balcony reminded Pavitra of the generosity of the nature,the lush green trees foregrounded the colleges of the University.Her friend next door waved at her only to get back a stolid countenance.Pavitra was too drowned in the horizon,dancing sparrows,the lush greens on her left.The coffee was getting cold,Pavitra scribbled on her notepad,documenting the visible surroundings and its invisible beauty."The Invisible" captivated her thought.What could lie beyond the crimson sky,behind the greens,wre the sparrows really content at the freedom they displayed?

Pavitra concluded writing and smiled at the coffee ,lying ignored.She noticed her Father walking towards the building.Pavitra put down the notepad and jumped from the balcony,releiving herself from the visible.Her Father cried in shock,at the disbelief of having just witnessed the tragic turn the Flower he had nurtured had taken,the nieghbours found it beyond comprehension."Such a good girl she was!",said Mr.Murthy,sobbing.Pavitra had enterd"the invisible",she could dance with the sparrows,look beyond the greens,she was happy.

Her Father opened the notepad:

I have seen what is all to be seen
witnessed the altercations within a being,
I need to look beyond,watch what has not been
seek what is not sought,Father,i have lived like a queen
I shall continue to live,metaphysics is what I mean...

ramon

2007-04-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

The man in green checks seems to be measured in his approach to women around him.The busy market street of london has this man singularly distinguished as it wants to highlight his idio-syncratic intent.It is amazingly recurrent in social history when characters with maliciously eccantric dispositions distance themselves from the innocent rest.Ramon,as the man concerned is known,has been wanting to ask himself what it means to live and how living has got to do with his existence?He himself has felt numerously how his individual presence has wrecked the living solitude in people around him.Since his adolescent days,his father has been calculatively distanced from him,in terms of the streotypical emotional scale.The dichotomy between two souls,who ought to have been more magnetic,is sometimes the reason behind an individual's agony or rather a question,a question Ramon has been asking incessantly.The distance between him and his father has stolen the comfort-level that he previously shared with the society.He started asking himself as to how sanely the world around him was living and how he himself was providing an anti-thesis to it.No person was affected by the void he met.Why is he the only one to suffer the pangs of a lost relationship, a relationship that ought to have been the fulcrum of his life...

Ramon noticed a lady in pink on the far-side of the market,waiting patiently.Ramon was astounded at the amount of patience that the lady churned-out while standing still,jealousy had found a home.His hands flirted with the breeze and his eyes fixed like a numb star at the opposing lady.She had put a sledge-hammer on his peaceful abode.He had started to deal with a consistent restlessness in his life.His gaze briefly considered others but zeroed -in on that lady in pink.He trembled in doubt whether to put an end to her life or not,this seemed like a priced moment to do so.Fifteen minutes had met the clock as his fingers yearned for the pistol in his left pocket.At the genesis of a possible murder ,a man walked upto the lady,he was his father.

Ten years later,in a prison,Ramon penned down few lines,which coalesces tragedy with serendipity:-

I win the confidence of a dead soul
looking at the faces of strangers
i begin to wonder about my role
starting to doubt who that was,
i seem to realise,no one else could be
as dead as i...

S.SRINIVASAN IYER