Passenger in My Body

The veins flow
So lively
So intent
I wonder, wonder
Their purpose
For I feel none

I simply laugh
I simply cry
I chug on
I stumble
And lie still

I stare out
These merciless windows,
My eyes
On and on
They go
Show me sights
Welcome, unwelcome
And indifferent

I call out
I beg to stop
The world is deaf
And so am I

Just a victim
A victim I am
Of the momentum
Momentum of my motion
Were it not for it
Just vacuum
Vacuum I would be

And so,
I simply laugh
I simply cry
I chug on
I stumble
And lie still

I thirst
To slit those
Those frenzied fools
And feel their redness
Burst my world
And then sigh
Sigh with content
And fall asleep
In my long-worn seat


---
Samudri

Intellectual Orgasm

It was M's class today.

As usual, he introduced us to a new thinker and his theory. I paid attention today, and whenever it was flipping, dragged it back. Deleuze: powerful, in the way he challenges how models are constructed and forced upon us, how he criticizes the cause-effect way of thinking.
Class went well, and then a student asked a question. Out jumped Judith Butler through M. And then queer theory. Another powerful perspective.

Set me thinking. How certain concepts and thoughts can liberate us. First they challenge us, shake the very roots of our ideology. We realise there are cracks in the pillar we have built. Oh, then we realize, the damn thing was wrong all the time. Time comes for deconstruction. We pull down the pillar. The process is not as smooth as I describe. Discomfort and pain are involved, directly proportional to the strength, width and height of the pillar we had built.
But when the montrosity is pulled down, we realize, "Ah ha, it was never a pillar, but a chain that dragged me down" To be free of that chain feels so good. You are lighter and have a wider and a deeper view of the world. Then you read and research more; start building a new pillar, to take yoursef to another height of awareness, knowledge and wisdom.

And what happens when there's a high resonance between your raw thought and an argument solidly thought through and argued? Owww owww. The cuckoo inside you wakes up and starts chirping. The presenter continues explaining, and with each new sentence you agree more with its truth. Right, you think! Right, right! Exactly, exactly, exactly! Oh yes, yes, yesssssss! Higher and higher you are transported, so much so that it reaches a crescendo. Your intellect is writhing now, all its muscles tensed and limbs a-tangled! Your eyes are shining so much you wonder why the presenter is not blinded looking at you. S/he ends her/his talk with a succulent one-liner. You smile and exhale, slowlyyyy.
You stretch your legs, and think of the canteen. You step out of the room. Your friend asks you, "How was it?" A lazy smile creeps up your face, and you say, "Good". "Hey, where you headed now?" You don't stop to answer that. Time for some coffee and cuddling with those after-thoughts.
:)

;)

- Chandni

Naked

I dreamt you today.

Bastard.

'Dreamt'. How the sentence sounds. As if 'I drank you today'. And literally I did. Amma is disenchanted by all this. She asks me why I set so much store by dreams. Why I remember them, and why I think about them. Maybe she's right. I should simply dismiss them. But what keeps me enchanted is the emotion I feel in the dream. For me, dreams count not because of the colours or the event, but the feeling I feel when I live that event in the dream. Maybe it's more real than my awake, everyday feelings. Because I feel in the dream so acutely. And the dreams are always inspired by my innermost desires,and thoughts. I feel like advertising like a film producer: 'Technicolor, inspired by real life events'.




In the dream you had cheated on me. You had always been a cheat. And I realised I had never truly loved you. Meaning you never the one I truly wanted. A series of high drama events had happened, which together did not make sense after waking up (they never did). In one of the of the scenes you were sipping a sweet liquid with a two-way straw, another girl at the other end of straw. Seated opposite, you were looking at each other. And the sweet liquid was actually her smiling eyes. (Yes, dreams are full of metaphors). You were drinking her eyes, she along with you.I vividly remember the last scene:  a hot chase, me after you. And then inside the bus. Empty, and for you nowhere to go. Even though we were no longer running, my pursuit was on. You, pinned on the wall. Your astuteness. Your grace. Your toned body. Your nipples. The pursuit goes lower. Me ready for your maleness. The dream ends here, and I wake up.

I wake up to the feeling in the dream. Dull pain. Of frustration. Of chronic loneliness. I start thinking (It is 15th August, a holiday, I have overslept, Amma conveniently out of house, and I have ample time). The fact is you have cheated me for 25 years. That's my human age in this lifetime. The body age is higher, maybe 35 (time's running out!).  How long should I wait?

Everyday there are moments when I am caught alone, unawares, and the knife of this loneliness does a happy round in my throat. Round and round it goes. Helplessly, involuntarily I sigh. How many times. Then there times in the month I sob, soundlessly.

They say man is a social animal. It's true. So is a woman. The need for company arrives, quite appropriately, and more acutely, after attaining adulthood. And then it starts bleeding, this need, like a wound, dripping like a mother's unsuckled babyless breast.

Listen, I need to grow. To do a lot of things. To achieve my goals. But you, my god, you gnaw. Like anything.

Arrive, will you? Damn it.

Today's Independence Day. And I am direly wishing to be ridden of my womanhood. To be free. Of myself. And you. Gosh.

-
Samudri

Aaah rain ... !

That first gust of wind. Your colleague exclaiming happily, "rains have arrived!". You are pulled towards the window, inadvertently. It is a gust, a strong gust that shakes leaves, trees and heaves up large swirls of dust. And accompanied is a sweet coolness. And a calming fragrance of some particular tree, something like eucalyptus. Aah! You know, moisture will follow a few, or a few more days later. But for now, a smile has arrived at your lips.
You are happy. Sexy. Romantic. Makes you feel like dialling someone, a lover and sharing this joy. But you are also content smiling to yourself, and sharing with this blog.
Rains, you are awaited with ardour!

The Leap

Long ago, in a dew-dipped time, I was born, a thought, in my mother's mind. She nourished and cherished me, and finally, I was born labouring against entropy, against gravity, against sunlight. And yet, there I was, a gurgling jumble of words, naked before the stark light. I crawled, whinnied about. Slowly, I found my a grip. I found commas, semicolons and ellipsis. I found pronouns, adjectives, and conjunctions. I found the strength to move about, to explore and fight my way about. I also learnt happiness, in streaks of shade.

The hardest of my lessons was learning the full stop. And I am yet to learn it fully. But, I am on my way. My shape has formed, and my meaning is in the right direction.
Tomorrow, I shall be taking flight. To an island of dreams. An island where I shall be protected from the hard contours, and yet exposed to new alleyways. Where I could grow wider, lighter, more meaningful. Tomorrow, I shall be making the leap for my dreams.

Dedicated to a Jet Setter about to Make a Huge Leap in Life

A Long Way to Walk

I scratch my beard
And burrow my eyes
Deep, brown, concerned
Yet twinkling
At the new turn
Posed by life

I took fifty such turns
Some carefully considered
Some flamboyant
But always striving
Towards a deeper me
A better me
A better world around me

The dogs of confusion
Hounded me
Yet the horses of passion
Pulled me
A charioteer, a passenger
I led, I followed

The mensa puzzle of life
Unravelled to me in bits
But my goal is clear to me
Clear as the day
As another bit reveals today
I am elated
Yet grounded

I reckon my life forces
And summon my oaky wisdom
To sustain the further distance
My fifty-first turn,
I am ready
To meet you
Arms open
Sure-footed
And laughing!!

Here, here, I come ...

(Dedicated to Prasad Chacko Sir, Director of Behavioural Science Centre, St. Xavier's College, Ahmedabad on his 51st birthday)

Restless Feet

Have you listened to it? Restless feet? The whole activity has a rhythm to it. You would say it is lack of attentivity or focus. I would say it is latent energy - latent and potent. That is raring to unleash.

Look at that feet - the up-down spring tune. Poke a hole into that knee and energy would come bursting out like little yellow birds. Then those birds would settle into each nest that would be another activity in itself. Each would grow food, rear kids and on and on ...

Let looseness break away from the rigidity of your feet next time. Let it translate to bursts of exercise, poetry, artistry, dance, love letter, or simply take up a debate!!! Let free and live your feet!

tu ...

tu, moklya kesanchi
tu, vinakaran hasnari
tu, kaajal lavnari
tu, rangoli kadhnari
tu, pavsaat nachnari
tu, algad laajnari
tu, nadisang radnari
tu, vedyagat kinchalnari
tu, rumaal shivnari
tu, chapatya bhajnari
tu, kushit ghenari
tu, cricket khelnari
tu, nakha marnari
tu, oje jhelnari
tu ... bhebhan
tu ... anekrangi
tu ... shevat nasnari
tu ... stree

A Dull Morning

Constricted, in the throat, and thoughts. No movement, stuck. Like a jammed wheel.
No willingness to move, as the majestic elephant settled on its own littering.

A yawn gnaws, but dies. The brain refuses to swallow the oxygen pill.

Oh boredom, can you get out of my mind room? It's expansive, but you seem to be taking too much space. Get out, out I say!

Then boredom laughs at me. And I smile too, at my foolishness.

Okay, Im out for a stroll. May be an omlet coupled with oxygen overdose would be the cure. ;)