First Rain Saudade
The first showers fall,
Syncopated percussions,
Like memory of first love.
continue...
The monsoon comes through really well in all the descriptive imagery. I found myself thinking more about the monsoon than love.
Esp. the phrase "buildings reflected in recent clouds", the urban connection to nature is simply felt, expressed, and beautiful.
Aparna
Friday, June 8, 2007
Monday, June 4, 2007
Humor
A lot of people have no sense of humor. They are well-read, but they have no sense of the absurd. They analyze it, they ponder it, they reflect on it. They don't laugh. A laugh is the only appropriate reaction to something funny.
If I tell you this joke..
After losing a breaststroke swimming competition, the blonde complained to the judges, "The others were all using their arms".
Sign that you get the joke - you laugh.
Sign that you don't get the joke - Your comments are about a) cheating in sports b) women in sports c) swimming competitions d) Judges biased for/against blondes e) philosophy of winning/losing.
If I don't label my writing as Humor, I tend to get comments from people who think I'm writing my views, not making up stories to get a laugh. I can't decide if that means I am not funny enough, or some people don't get that it is supposed to be funny.
I find this a big difference in Indian society v/s the West. Having lived in both places, I can see that some forms of conversational humor are not recognized as such over here (by some).
Check out the comments on Commenting (Or Not). See if you can spot the difference in the commenters - the ones who took it literally are the ones giving out advice on commenting/writing.
If I tell you this joke..
After losing a breaststroke swimming competition, the blonde complained to the judges, "The others were all using their arms".
Sign that you get the joke - you laugh.
Sign that you don't get the joke - Your comments are about a) cheating in sports b) women in sports c) swimming competitions d) Judges biased for/against blondes e) philosophy of winning/losing.
If I don't label my writing as Humor, I tend to get comments from people who think I'm writing my views, not making up stories to get a laugh. I can't decide if that means I am not funny enough, or some people don't get that it is supposed to be funny.
I find this a big difference in Indian society v/s the West. Having lived in both places, I can see that some forms of conversational humor are not recognized as such over here (by some).
Check out the comments on Commenting (Or Not). See if you can spot the difference in the commenters - the ones who took it literally are the ones giving out advice on commenting/writing.
Story Teller (Short Story) / Vineesh Krishnan
The bus lurched forward. It had been trapped in a traffic jam for the last fifteen minutes.
“The girl mismatched the heads with the torsos. Tell me why she did it? Give me the correct answer or I am going to tell you another story.”
She thought hard. She wasn’t concentrating. She had been practicing the aahs and ahas for long and had learned to do it without actually listening. There was a girl, there were two guys… Then what?
(Continue..)
I did miss the connection with the two pieces, until your comment. I was thinking she chopped some body part into two pieces, but didn't know why.
It's dark, I like it. You have so many echoes from the stories that were complex mythologicals, open to many interpretations. Hayavadana's transposed heads, Ganga. Like a subterranean river flowing underneath this woman's life, the memories of ancestral women and their dilemmas.
At one point, I wondered if you were going for the King Vikram and Betal reference, where the Betal (vampire) tells stories and asks questions, failing to answer which will explode Vikram's head.
Lots of possibilities here. I think the ending was in a way a little modern, Bobbitt-like banal. Would be fun if you thought of a way to align the ending with all those story references.
Aparna
I am want to suiciding (Poem) - Ozymandias
O well! O well!(Continue..)
Why you are not having water?
I am failed in exam.
I want to suiciding.
Why you to be cleaned now?
Oh no, _____(how do you like to be addressed by lazy writers, Oz, Ozzy, Ozman, Sir Oz ? ) Pardon me if this is a bad question, I don't wanna be Oztracised in da community.
Do you really want to lead all those suiciders to this here forum :-)
The thought makes me want to be suiciding, and quickly.
Aparna
Run...
What all I escaped
Colors, textures, and words
All that was mystique
Crystal clarity blurred
continue
That was good. I feel the second stanza about aging is particularly good - "Beckon to unbecome". As the above comment says, couple of places where the beat changes could be tinkered with. The first line "what all I missed" is a literal translation of a phrase from the native tongue, the English usage would be "All that I missed", or "Everything I missed".
Aparna
I'm sorry, but that first line's just bad English.
It does not add anything, it's jarring to the ear.
Were it the intent, there would be consistent use of it in the rest of the poem.
Aparna
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Comment (Or Not)
I read something just now, and it created absolutely no desire in me to comment on it. No opinion, no feelings, no pithy comebacks, no derision, no admiration, just a blank. I can't identify with it at all. And I know this is not just happening to me alone. I also recently wrote something that got no comments at all. I could be writing something so fabulous that it went completely over your heads. Or not.
Someone asked why I don't comment on his posts. I think I said I could be so low in my reading skills that it went completely over my head. Or not.
What makes people decide to comment ? I thought about this for a while. I think, to the person reading, it has to feel like it addresses him. The tone, vocabulary level, style, choice of topic, degree of clarity all have to make him feel it is intended for him. I may have a clue here. Or not.
Like this - You're on a bus, sitting next to strangers, busy in their own thoughts, and you decided to say something aloud, a comment about the scenery out the window. A nice well-dressed family of trees, standing guard over a lake with little waves playing about, flashes by.
You look out the window and intone, loud enough for your neighbor to hear - "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in getting new contact lenses".
You think he heard you? It's hard to be sure. He may give no sign that he has. But perhaps he has heard you, and now what he's asking himself is the question: Is this guy talking to me, or to himself? (So, in all probability, did the 27 people who read your post, but refrained from comment).
If he stops pretending to be asleep, and looks at you, you can be sure he heard something. But perhaps not all. He may have caught just the last few words 'getting contact lenses', and is now under the impression that you're a Bausch and Lomb salesman.
You have to assure him you're not selling anything, or this conversation is over before it started. So you nod helpfully, and provide the context for your sudden outburst, by way of saying to him "Albert Camus. I believe that's what he said about journeys".
You think he would know who this Albert Camus is? You think he cares? If he rolls his eyes, or pretends to fall asleep again, he may not. But if he talks back to you - "No, I believe that was Proust. And he was talking of new eyes, not lenses" - it may mean he's interested in journeys, or new eyes. Or not. He may be thoroughly bored of journeys and new eyes. And strangers who want to talk about journeys and new eyes. Either way, he's still a mysterious stranger about whom there's much more left for us to learn.
There is one thing no one wants or expects a mysterious stranger on a bus to do and that is - Snuggle up closer and say, "Your lenses make your eyes so much bigger". If he does this, it's a signal to get off the bus pronto. That sort of guy is likely to send you 15 private messages in an hour after reading your one post.
Let's hope he doesn't do that. More likely he considers the conversation over, even as your misquote has been put in its place, and start fiddling with his cellphone instead. At least you know he's heard you, and understood you.
But what if he said nothing in return, and just glanced sharply at you, and returned to peruse his magazine? How do you find out if he agrees with you, or dislikes Camus, journeys or lenses? Or that his native language is Tulu and he speaks no English? Or that your accent was so bad, he thought you were speaking Tulu?
At this point, there is likely a temptation one must resist very firmly - to poke him in the ribs and say, "What did you think of what I said?" That sort of thing will at best get you thrown off the bus, and at worst... well, the worst depends on your neighbor's creativity, size, and tools at his disposal.
You may want to call his bluff about being too busy with his cellphone, too interested in his magazine, or too sleepy to respond. But that will just get him all riled up, and he'll be forced to take it out on you. It can get nasty. You can wait for a while, to see if he's going to respond. You can wait forever.
Or you can adopt a simpler, clearer style that everybody is familiar with: - "I thought I recognized you from somewhere. Are you somebody famous?". There is little chance anybody famous is sitting in a bus, instead of a limousine, but you can try. A slim possibility exists he may never have heard that line before, and will find it refreshingly original, and be moved to say so.
You could change to a more popular topic - "Ever hear that one about Rachel Welch and the Pope in a boat?". You may get lucky this way. Or not. That joke has been around for a while, and it may have gone stale. You can simply move to the next seat and start your work afresh on another busmate. You may fare better there. Or worse.
If you have been ejected by an entire bus of passengers without mercy, you don't have to give up and fade away. It is helpful to remember what David Hockney said - "Art has to move you, but design does not. Unless it is a design for a bus".
Or not helpful. It all depends on what that Hockney was talking about. I have no idea. I just like to write.
Someone asked why I don't comment on his posts. I think I said I could be so low in my reading skills that it went completely over my head. Or not.
What makes people decide to comment ? I thought about this for a while. I think, to the person reading, it has to feel like it addresses him. The tone, vocabulary level, style, choice of topic, degree of clarity all have to make him feel it is intended for him. I may have a clue here. Or not.
Like this - You're on a bus, sitting next to strangers, busy in their own thoughts, and you decided to say something aloud, a comment about the scenery out the window. A nice well-dressed family of trees, standing guard over a lake with little waves playing about, flashes by.
You look out the window and intone, loud enough for your neighbor to hear - "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in getting new contact lenses".
You think he heard you? It's hard to be sure. He may give no sign that he has. But perhaps he has heard you, and now what he's asking himself is the question: Is this guy talking to me, or to himself? (So, in all probability, did the 27 people who read your post, but refrained from comment).
If he stops pretending to be asleep, and looks at you, you can be sure he heard something. But perhaps not all. He may have caught just the last few words 'getting contact lenses', and is now under the impression that you're a Bausch and Lomb salesman.
You have to assure him you're not selling anything, or this conversation is over before it started. So you nod helpfully, and provide the context for your sudden outburst, by way of saying to him "Albert Camus. I believe that's what he said about journeys".
You think he would know who this Albert Camus is? You think he cares? If he rolls his eyes, or pretends to fall asleep again, he may not. But if he talks back to you - "No, I believe that was Proust. And he was talking of new eyes, not lenses" - it may mean he's interested in journeys, or new eyes. Or not. He may be thoroughly bored of journeys and new eyes. And strangers who want to talk about journeys and new eyes. Either way, he's still a mysterious stranger about whom there's much more left for us to learn.
There is one thing no one wants or expects a mysterious stranger on a bus to do and that is - Snuggle up closer and say, "Your lenses make your eyes so much bigger". If he does this, it's a signal to get off the bus pronto. That sort of guy is likely to send you 15 private messages in an hour after reading your one post.
Let's hope he doesn't do that. More likely he considers the conversation over, even as your misquote has been put in its place, and start fiddling with his cellphone instead. At least you know he's heard you, and understood you.
But what if he said nothing in return, and just glanced sharply at you, and returned to peruse his magazine? How do you find out if he agrees with you, or dislikes Camus, journeys or lenses? Or that his native language is Tulu and he speaks no English? Or that your accent was so bad, he thought you were speaking Tulu?
At this point, there is likely a temptation one must resist very firmly - to poke him in the ribs and say, "What did you think of what I said?" That sort of thing will at best get you thrown off the bus, and at worst... well, the worst depends on your neighbor's creativity, size, and tools at his disposal.
You may want to call his bluff about being too busy with his cellphone, too interested in his magazine, or too sleepy to respond. But that will just get him all riled up, and he'll be forced to take it out on you. It can get nasty. You can wait for a while, to see if he's going to respond. You can wait forever.
Or you can adopt a simpler, clearer style that everybody is familiar with: - "I thought I recognized you from somewhere. Are you somebody famous?". There is little chance anybody famous is sitting in a bus, instead of a limousine, but you can try. A slim possibility exists he may never have heard that line before, and will find it refreshingly original, and be moved to say so.
You could change to a more popular topic - "Ever hear that one about Rachel Welch and the Pope in a boat?". You may get lucky this way. Or not. That joke has been around for a while, and it may have gone stale. You can simply move to the next seat and start your work afresh on another busmate. You may fare better there. Or worse.
If you have been ejected by an entire bus of passengers without mercy, you don't have to give up and fade away. It is helpful to remember what David Hockney said - "Art has to move you, but design does not. Unless it is a design for a bus".
Or not helpful. It all depends on what that Hockney was talking about. I have no idea. I just like to write.
As the crow flies (Ashish Gorde)
This story could read like a fable, but it is not. It is simply dressed like one, and might even give the impression of one of those quaint moral tales with deep underlying meaning, but it is nothing like that. It is simply an account of a bizarre experience in our garden, which may or may not have moral implications but we could take a chance.
continue..
(This is more about the story...)
One possibility is that while the crows didn't know how to help the baby get back to the nest, they didn't want any other people venturing near for fear that their intent was to harm the baby. After all, they have no way of knowing you're trying to help.
We ran into a bunch of elephants blocking the road near a coffee estate. A young elephant had stuck its leg among some rocks and was unable to get free, and the herd didn't know how to help, but they were guarding it, so no one else would take advantage of its helpless state. Unfortunately they were also preventing the forest department trying to get close to the trapped one so they could free it.
Aparna
continue..
(This is more about the story...)
One possibility is that while the crows didn't know how to help the baby get back to the nest, they didn't want any other people venturing near for fear that their intent was to harm the baby. After all, they have no way of knowing you're trying to help.
We ran into a bunch of elephants blocking the road near a coffee estate. A young elephant had stuck its leg among some rocks and was unable to get free, and the herd didn't know how to help, but they were guarding it, so no one else would take advantage of its helpless state. Unfortunately they were also preventing the forest department trying to get close to the trapped one so they could free it.
Aparna
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