Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
- Nek Chand's Rock Garden in Chandigarh.
- Last year's hard-bound exercise books being piled onto the floor at the school where I teach.
- My grandfather's car, with its sensitive wipers raised like canine hackles when the rains come unannounced. Someone washes it everyday and gets paid for it.
- The Himalayan Village at Sonapani, an eco-friendly resort. Solar panels for sale at the small local shop on the way back to the Kathgodam Railway Station.
- Ravi Gulati, our fellow camper at Sonapani and co-founder of the NGO, Manzil, and his presentation titled "The Story of Stuff".
- A sudden dearth of plastic bags all around me, except the khaarbooja waale bhaiya (fruit vendor) near my house. (Yes, I was happy he had a carry-bag.. so sue me.)
- Endless Rituporno Ghosh Bong movies with names like Utsab (Festival), Noukadubi (Boatwreck), Abohomaan (The Flow) where someone or the other must face the herculean task of getting over a slowpoke and involve the audience in the long, arduous entrails of the entire process of "moving on".
- An ex-colleague, talking about my ex-company and x amounts of barley. Read beer.
Monday, May 16, 2011
This Summer, they should know about this flame inside. This gigantic tongue of fire inside that destroys what it tastes. You should make it run. Make it chase something. Watch as it spreads in a circle and dances like the devil. You should watch when it takes over. Applaud. This fire chases the good in me. It chases all that is happy, contented. My memories run like refugees, spilling the past over in small threads and crumbles. The fugitive prays for the rain. I don’t have the rain in me yet. You see the skin running dry, droughtlike. Nothing works on that parched terrain.
The fire reigns inside. This is the fire I inherited. And I need the slimy and the unctuous. To survive.
Why would you put it out? Something so primal. So bright. Let it flee. Create a burning desire and then destroy it the moment it takes shape. Let it scorch the vessels you so lovingly build with your earth and your water. Let it burn.
I was born of fire. The light. The chaos. The screams for mercy. The heat of emotions. I couldn’t last in a suit. I couldn’t behave myself. Because I couldn’t fight the fire even if you forced me to. Fire smells like home.