Just Him

Once upon a time
My life was like a fairytale
But I guess now I'm living
The happily ever after!
Only that no one probed to see
What was meant to be
Ke sa ra sara

I met my Prince Charming,
But the trance is no more,
I am in love,
But the heart is sore,
Why the rainbows no longer look resplendent
Why at the end of the day I feel so spent
Ke sa ra sara

There were cupids
Fragrant flowers
Friends as loyal can be
But time has taken a toll
And I've lost touch with all
Will it ever be green again,
Will the youthful lovely days come back
Ever
Just once more to me?
Ke sa ra sara

Little by little I have flipped through the pages
And now the pages look so bland
The shine of the fairytale all gone
Blemished with a knowledge
That I earnestly did not want
Now of all I know
Its true--
Ignorance is bliss.
I have still love to live by
Still searching for God within
And God without
Finding God in Him
That source of Peace
That solace
I could live for!

Sir Oracle!

FIFA 2010 has been a World Cup of upsets. But even more interesting are the new discoveries that we made en route the grande finale. Vuvuzelas blowing the nuts out of one's head to the waka waka welcome to South Africa , 2010 will have football fanatics all over the world remember it for a long time. Of these many aspects, Octopus Paul's predictions left be dumbfounded. I have sworn by palmistry, tarot and numerology thus far but talking parrots and carnivorous visionaries did not appeal to me in the least. Sir Oracle, our dear octopus Paul converted me overnight; and like half the world I have been racking my head to explain how this two month old octopus saw what analysts didn't. He chose Serbia over Germany, people thought it was a fluke. When it stayed true to its German land, the world said , sheer training...but Paul defied their obvious conclusions and declared Spain would walk to the finals. For once the German's thought the Paul oracle would fall flat...ahh! alas! Spain were gleeful and even if the Argentinians and the German's wanted oracle Paul roasted and garnished with sauce, Spain would stand for its animal rights!
Many I believe have already taken to researching what made Paul oracle. What I fear is not the threat of Paul being the ingredient of a delicacy but that suddenly one day Paul would go missing. For sly researchers too intent on the practical and logical reasoning would not spare the poor octopus and run there scissors and scalpels through its entire body to detect which hormone or which fluid or which anatomical factor can justify the mysterious coming to pass of Paul's oracle!

Idol 5

Indian Idol 5 has not received the kind of response its predecessors have...interestingly every gal or guy you turn to and ask who their favourite Indian idol is they give you back a blank expression of.."Idol season 5...Okay...well....umm". But the truth is I've been relishing season 5 with my parents and my sis. Today my parents made a crucial observation which I felt I needed to pen down... My overtly emotional dad is so enamoured by Salim Merchant, Sunidhi Chauhan and Anu Malik that he said 'they've shown what it takes to be a guru'.Well for once I had to agree with my dad. The opinions and the encouragement, the tips and the involvement with the contestants is conspicuous and touching...well I'm not sure whether the reality show is all that real but...the judges have really shown they are worth the honour!

From Twilight to Breaking Dawn

It might sound ludicrous to Meyer's newfound fans that I was unaware of her genius till late yesterday night when I first saw the amazing adaptation of her vampire novel Twilight. The hype when twilight hit the theaters missed me completely and strangely many of my kin dismissed it as a misconstrued overtly impossible blood thirsty vampire frenzy. When you have little time in hand you do risk paying heed to such vagrant side talks because you just don't want to be fooled into wasting those precious two hours (only) of sleep... But yesterday night I was utterly amazed! Tired eyes, aching body, blurring mind- none of these symptoms of stress could defy my eagerness at staying awake and watching the enthralling movie. It left me so mesmerized that roughly at 2.30 past midnight I decided I definitely wanted to know more about the Twilight. Believe it or not Stephenie Meyer had another Harry Potter freak converted into the Twilight zone. Patterson may have had and still has a fan following but Meyer should share her glory with the cast who seemed to have delved so deep into the characters that it was difficult to fathom whether Meyer conceived the characters after having met the movie's cast and crew!

All night through after watching Twilight I brushed aside all the stress to read up all about Meyer and the series...Twilight to Breaking Dawn- till the break of dawn. As the crows suspiciously crowed wondering at the ray of light that illuminated the window sill in which they were perched, I could tell from the way I was frantically reading the book that Meyer's vampires bit me hard and changed me into one of those admiring Meyer vampire lovers. For all those who foolishly missed seeing the Twilight please do grab a copy of the movie or the book or both! Cheers Ms Meyer thanks for such a wonderful romantic saga...

Decidedly...

One of the worst things to happen to me is sniffles. I hate sniffles. The constant rattle of your chest when you cough, the wheeze that never lets you forget that the lungs aren't what they used to be, and then there is the runny mucous.

Yes, disgusting is the word for it. Not only is it Undignified, but, as my friend Nutso Marmosets call it, it is a shame on Mammalkind. Of course birds have it too. I have seen a Cockatiel come down with a bout of sniffles, but she sneezed most delicately. Nothing like the skirt-lifting, spectacle-askewing glory which attacks me, and puts me in the general direction of trouble.

How do I fight?

Yes, the universal answer to it is simple: REST.

But for the unfortunate one, me, there is none.

So I generally run to the tried and tested Chicken Soup. My favorite is this one that I got out of amateurgourmet's website.

Probal...we miss you

This is life we know it,
But often we ignore it.
We’re in a journey
Heading towards something;
No one knows where!
It’s hectic, sometimes insane-
The laughter, the joys:
All balms for that final pain…
To know that a friend you’d
Made on your way
Just got off that train.
It’s a one way journey and there is no going back.
Some winters and some summers
And wonderful springs we crossed;
And now when you look into the eyes of his beloved
You know she sees him still
For the glint and the love can just not die!
He is embarked on a new journey
With newer wonders at his door.
He still breathes in our memories
Talks to our heart for sure.
May be he parted ways,
But he will be with us always!
(this poem is dedicated to our friend Probal whom we lost most unfortunately on 26th February 2010...we want him to know, wherever he is, that we all love him and miss him)

“…journalism is an estate of the realm, a power above all powers in the land; and its mission is mighty, even so are its responsibilities great.” –The Michigan University Magazine Volume II

Journalism and media earned its popularity through mass consciousness and the irony of seeing them toy with the emotions of the masses and making a massacre of the ‘humane aspects of journalism’ estranges them from the common people. While the glaring incapacity and disarray of the state of West Bengal emerges from under the veneer of communist idealism, the fake promises and dry tears of political leaders aggravated by the ludicrous decorum of wearing a gleeful smile when you are relaying a disastrous and heart wrenching news, comes across as a reflection of retrograde culture. To illuminate what exactly I’m driving at is the news anchor of Star Anando whose almost happy disposition was not pleasing to the eyes. There was no self restraint or somber demeanour that would assay that even though not personally affected it did unnerve her like it did the rest of the masses. Contrasted to her very strange body language was the daring act of people like Pervez whose humanity and humility gave life to so many.
Media were competing in this hour to be the first to communicate the news and not the first to help the people out from the worst nightmare. They watched people desperately jump to their deaths and began penning headlines. They reached there as spectators and not messiahs. But you cannot blame them for futuristic journalism like the rest of the futuristic stuff that is developing is emotionless, mechanical, monetized and at it a farce. Journalists are interviewing distraught family members, insensible mob smiling at the camera and waving at the viewers, reporters daring to ask how do you feel, are you anxious, did you’ll know, when did you’ll get to know- insensitive and blatantly insensitive. Neither sense nor sensibility is part of journalism now.
I was an audience in front of the idiot box waiting to catch a glimpse of the action. Though unaware of what actually happened I have frequented the spot often and from my understanding of the geography of the place a few trucks, lorries could have been brought in. There is a furnishing shop just opposite to the Music World from where drapes and curtain could be accumulated so that the people could jump on a soft cushion. But even when Rome was burning there were some saving their own businesses. Or is it that common sense is really uncommon in today’s world. Panic struck and capturing the fall to death on your mobile cameras may fetch you a penny for a day but rob you of peaceful sleep, when you toss on your bed with guilt. A friend of mine whose own bereavement in the past has taught her the philosophy of life rightly said, that it is the ‘helplessness’ we feel when faced with the cruel fact of mortality that creates a void and an unbearable pain.
I know that it will be dawn again and life will return to normal and reporters and journalists will begin sniffing for a new trail of sensational news. Whatever is breaking news for them is breaking indeed! For a commoner like me media melodrama is as intolerable as politics. We are in a poor state literally so, if each of us doesn’t rise to the occasion, if our conscience is enjoying their prolonged slumber then you can simply walk back with a cup of stimulant and watch the IPL or the hip gyrating obscene Bollywood songs.