Category: Life Ordinary

  • Home run

    both posts this week on home, but this week being the way it is, i shall stay with the spirit of things and write a ‘homely’ post…
    all things arranged exactly the way i want it.. and changeable whenever i feel like it… always there whenever i decide to be there… a safe haven, a place where friends come to visit me, a place where i could spend hours on end, a place for which i could spend endless hours shopping..where every little thing is a manifestation of my self in some way or other… a place which could even reflect my changing mood if i so wish…few places could be so comfortable, this place that has been made according tomy specifications and for me…thats what is home.. amazing, home can also be spelled ‘blog’, and the feeling still remains the same.. maybe they did think about it when they coined ‘homepage’….but a question lurks – is it comfort or control that makes home ‘home’?
    menawhile, here’s a good dee for the day… will leave you with some lines from my fave band…
    ” A long time ago came a man on a track
    Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
    And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
    Made a home in the wilderness
    He built a cabin and a winter store
    And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
    And the other travellers came riding down the track
    And they never went further, no, they never went back….“
    until next time, enjoy your home…

  • Small Town blues

    No, its not about SwB..hehe.. its about guys like me, who have migrated to a bigger city,managed to find a particular groove here, and are comfortable the way they are.. except for the moments when the ‘small town blues’ hit them…
    i have always said that you are lucky if you are born in a big city, no, not because of the neon lights, but because you can choose to spend your entire life in a city you were born in.. of course, all of us do have that choice, but the small town guys make most of their judgements with a lot of constraints’ baggage, the biggest these days being job availability…
    there is a certan joy of travelling on the same roads, watching things change, going by yourold school, seeing familiar faces, walking in the parks that you played in as a child, feeling the sea wind on your face and watching different ships on the same port, feeling safe, speaking in a language you have been speaking forever, hanging out in places that you know inside out, seeing the night lights – forever growing brighter…
    of course floyd has a different version in ‘time’ –
    “kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown,
    waiting for someone or something to show you the way.
    tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain,
    you are young and life is long and there is time to kill today,
    and then one day you find ten years have got behind you,
    no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.”……..
    (speaking of floyd, please check this out)
    but i’d still say that for people born in a big city, there are memories of a time that once was,for us, there are memories of a time and place, that once were…. “but i guess thats why they call it the blues”
    until next time, blue is my favourite color

  • soldier of fortune

    it wasnt as though he had been forced to go. he had made the choice himself, knowing fully well, the dangers, the obvious ones as well as the hidden ones…this mission was particularly dangerous, because the terrain was unfamiliar. well, not exactly, but times were dangerous now, and the roads on which he once used to whistle aloud, were fraught with danger, danger lurking in every bend..and it was dark..
    but the prize was worth it, and he had committed anyway..he started out, moving carefully. though these paths were ones he had done a reconnaisance the same morning, he was careful, because a harmless looking shack could suddenly become a hive of activity.
    suddenly the explosions started, but these were the ones he had expected, he gritted his teeth and moved on… there was a period of calm, but as he edged closer towards his target, the explosions began again. he had to be more careful now, because these were not paths he had visited in the morning, and it didnt help that the enemy had dug trenches all over the place…
    speaking of the enemy, there were so many of them… and so many weapons, of different kinds.. the world had progressed so rapidly that the weapons he had been trained in were almost obsolete now.. but that was quite some time ago, and he was no longer as young and agile as he once was…
    finally he reached his destination, the prize was there, and worth it..he took his time, savouring every moment, but secretly fearful of the return journey…
    soon,it was time to go, he knew he had to be more careful now, for the prizehad made him a little less alert. but the consolation was that he knew the paths better now… but that consolation did not last long, because he realised that the explosions had increased.. once, he saw a guy in front of him swerve and struggle to retain control, as a shell exploded right in front of him.
    the last stretch proved to be the most difficult, as consecutive explosions behaved as though they were specifically targeting him!!finally, he was back..as he took off his helmet, he moaned at what he had to go through for a dine out on diwali night.. hell, it was no longer a celebration, it was war… and he had indeed been a fortunate soldier to get back in one piece…
    until next time, dont burst with excitement!!

  • Lights… Action!!

    four days of holidays ahead, so the grateful self thought he should write a few words about the phenomenon thats making it possible..diwali…
    the earliest memories are getting dressed up in the white kurta,pyjama set(the one for special occasions), going into the storeroom, taking out the earthern diyas, cleaning them and arranging them on the window ledges… career highs included being allowed to handle oil and light the diyas myself…
    simultaneously happening was the cracker department, which had its own career path- from a rookie user, who was not allowed to handle stuff without permission, to the gradual scaling up of the stuff that could be used..the pinnacle being the rocket, i guess, which had to be launched carefully lest it created a “neighbour’s envy, owner’s pride’ effect in the neighbours’house… and finally , the top seat being the buying of crackers and their division among users…..well, once we reach the peak, the only way is down..
    i stopped celebrating the year we shifted residence…did celebrate in patches later, but more as a desperate effort to recreate the magic of the days that were gone… a lost cause that redeemed itself only in the joyful faces i saw around me…….
    P.S. though south indians usually use ‘deepavali’, these days, in our house, it is ‘diwali’, since ‘wali’ pronounced slightly differently, means ‘fart’ in malayalam, and….
    until next time, have a blast 🙂

  • A piece of history……..

    this post whirled into my mind, due to a comment made on my shoutbox sometime back… 🙂
    the written word has for long been a great tool for storage – storage of thoughts, of happenings and whatever one feels should be recorded somewhere… of course there are some who feel that a picture would do the trick, but to each his own, is all i’ll say about that.. and it doesn’t actually matter because this post would also relate to photographs – after all they are also storage devices…
    whether it is the written word or the photograph, the creator, at least in his subconscious, feels it is for posterity… a tool which would give himself or others an account of the moment/era in which it was taken, whenever it is seen again…. but as time passes, and i mean, a long time, they either get lost or if they do appear, do so in museums or private collections..i dont know about the photos, but the written words do get called manuscripts.
    pieces of history which gives us glimpses of what had been..only glimpses, because though the creator would have wanted it to be a complete explanation, we can only make calculated guesses, and whether we are right in our guesses, is also, only a guess……..
    millions of bloggers worldwide writing daily accounts/ thoughts on the world they live in, the world of their dreams, technology, music, sex, philosophy, careers… what kind of glimpses will they provide to the people in 4004, words staring back from a visual interface, perhaps loaded from an ancient server…
    so, is it history we are typing? our present, someone’s history… called manuscrypts, bloughts, whirlwings, jabberwhackies… all with their own explanations…..
    until next time, keep making history 🙂