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Showing posts from February, 2007

The voice Within...

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Have you felt this feeling that rises in the walls of your stomach? Have you felt it rise and fill your body in a tickle? Have you closed your eyelids tight and concentrated on this feeling? This ink and paper cannot capture it enough. These curves and dots,even these fingers shall forget. Why then do I continue to pollute this white sheet, you say? You would know if you could feel that trickle Which ,in a moment can gush and hit the walls of your inside like a powerful wave Before you know it,it has lifted a pen into your hands. And when you rest what you wield, You sense that the waters are calm. ..................... (This poem has recieved a couple of hilarious responses.My friend A on reading the poem thought that the 'feeling' in the poem referred to my digestive fluids as i refer later to 'the walls of my stomach'!!!and the second response came from D who thought that I had set out to portray Exam tension as that was the only feeling she associated with 

36,chowringhee lane

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The much awaited Cine club fest-'Moving Pictures' is finally on. Today, I could not resist joining the poster making competition though I had not wielded a paint brush for several months....! 2.35 pm I have completed the sketch. Mariam and I  stop Priya as she walked by to pen a French phrase for our poster.I feel curiously lethargic as mottled shapes slowly appear on the white sheet before me. 3.30 pm I walk across the scr lawns towards the AV room. I am proud!not of the poster that I had just completed (and am carrying),but the collage of colours that has appeared on my fingers...the last time I had dabs of paint on my hands was after art block in school. 3.45 pm I am comfortably sitting beside Obs in the AV room though the air-conditioning inside feels strange..afterall the winter here has not completely faded away and the air outside is still chilly.Impish actually-teasing you at times to wear just a T-shirt while at other times -leaving you puzzling over why you wor

22nd feb

"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each prayer accepted, and each wish resign'd." From Eloisa to Abelard Alexander Pope

scribble poetry

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As I walked down the silent street, My footsteps left behind only echoes. My head hung low, My eyes were fixed on the cobbled path. ...and all the while my thoughts wandered far. the enveloping darkness helped me dissolve time. Impulse lifted my gaze to an unlit lantern that dangled precariously on an iron stump. the sight that arrested my eyes was that of a wooden ladder that rose above the wall it was leaning on. Stretching,straining its frail self... only to rest its limbs on the cloudy skies.
A Beginning is Spinning, Ringing, Singing, Inviting, me.