the winding maze

Explosions in London

2005-07-07T13:34:00.000+04:00

A series of explosions have rocked the London Underground. Atleast 2 reported dead and over 90 injured. Read what reuters and cnn have to say..

They aren't sure what has caused the blasts, but there are rumors of terrorist involvement.

What is happening people? And this a day after London has been awarded the opportunity to host the '12 Olympics, and the much debated G8 meet is happening at Scotland.

Is it the end of an epic? - review of Revenge of the Sith

2005-05-24T13:45:00.000+04:00

Caveat: This is an extremely biased review from a star-wars fan. To elucidate my point- i even liked parts of episode 1 and 2. So there, you have been warned

Imagine that you are solving jigsaw puzzle and are a couple of pieces away from completion. You know the whole picture already or at the very least have some definite ideas about it. Sure you'll go ahead and complete the puzzle, but if the initial excitement levels can be sustained, then we have something phenomenal.

Imagine a movie in which the what-happened-before is known( Anakin Skywalker is a jedi knight who is supposed to bring balance to the Force switches to the Dark Side) , the what-happens-next is known (Luke and Leia will eventually battle the Empire (and Darth vader who is the "post Anakin" Skywalker) and restore justice among other things. Only one question remains- Why did Anakin cross over to the Dark Side? If the answer to this one question keeps an audience glued to the screen for over 2 hours (nearly 3 hours if you include the extra long break that Satyam took!), i would consider it no mean achievement.

ROTS, straddles the prequel world of movie making as well as the classical star wars world with reasonable ease (contemplated for 2 mins about using consumate here and then decided against it.. is that an attempt at being impartial or what?), be it in terms of the story line as well as in finer aspects like set design, costumes, dialogues etc where elements of the episodes 4,5 and 6 mix a little more happily with those from episodes 1 and 2.
-I like the fact that there are a few more 1 liners in this movie than in the previous 2. Obi-wan in particular.
- I liked the fact that some of the sets had clear references to the original series
- Vader looks immensely Vaderish (like Duh!, what i mean is that its good to see him on screen again, and i don't think he looks any less majestic this time than he did in the original)
-Liked the idea of giving Obi-wan the cool chameleon to ride on. (Don't ask why!)

Liked the idea that the circle is now complete!
May the foce be with you.

Random thought on reading

2005-05-12T14:53:00.000+04:00

Am in the middle of a book that I wouldn't call outstanding for any specific reason. Its The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith. (Osty, you are solely to blame for this.. )

I chose this book over several others that looked interesting enough for me to want to read - (but as with all shortlist- there can be only one winner!!) Among the ones I missed out were this one by Heinlein and this one by Murakami. Not sure if these two would would have been better reads than Smith's book, but am now filled with a sense of dissatisfaction.

Please bear with me while I try to explain my angst here!

It is not the "unremarkableness" of the book that upsets... Its got its good points... and you might even enjoy it if you liked the RK Narayan'ish style of writing with quaint characters having even quainter thoughts and a general sense of ambient happy optimism. (i'm really really not being sarcastic here.. I do enjoy Narayan on occasion)

It is that the choosing of one book necessarily means that you are committing a certain amount of time, effort and consciousness (is intellect a better word?) to this one rather than to another, and when the book does not live up to your expectations, you believe that your efforts at pleasure maximization (yup, we're still talking about reading here!) are thwarted.

One way out of this is to read book reviews before making up your mind, but potential issues lurk there too.
1. How do you know that the reviewer's books would be in synch with your own?
2. What happens to books that don't get reviewed at all?

Angst at a deeper level: When did my thinking get this warped??!!

Yikes!!

2005-03-11T13:21:00.000+04:00

Filtered Light

Again

2005-02-06T21:10:00.000+04:00

Tried to re-invent myself
Again
For the seventh time
In two weeks

It ceased to be a habit
around two years ago
Only a meaningless ritual
Now

But everytime i do it
Something changes
Within me and
without

I do it so often
These days
I don't know what i'm looking for
Anymore

If it should come back to me
Someday
I couldn't be sure if it's what i want
Or what i was

A prisoner of the past

2005-02-05T13:08:00.000+04:00

(Two poems with the same title)

The walls of memory
And a voluntary prison
The stay is pleasant
The stagnation, comforting

Do I
Rebuild these crumbling walls
And seal them with imaginary pasts?

Or
Open the door
And walk free?
________________________

The handcuffs are rusted
Not tears or sweat
Just the bitterness
In the Air

The skin is tender
On the inner wrist
The handcuffs chaff
Numbing the pulse

The pain has dulled
With the months and years
Not the memory
Of it’s newness

Do past pains always blind present promises?

How could i?

2004-12-17T14:11:00.000+04:00

For all the people i held special in the past... and then forgot
................................................................

I can't believe I let this happen,
Shrunk memories of you
To visiting card sized details
And threw it in some disused corner
Of my mind.

I can't believe I did that.
To make space perhaps,
For all the meaningless trivia
That absorbs the better part
Of my life

A blank stare,
And forgetfulness
Crimes worse than murder
A Past destroyed
And a present meaningless

I have uncoiled the memories again
And aired them out in the sun
But can I
Relive the memories I killed?
Remember not to forget- again?

a camera trespasses

2004-11-26T15:38:00.000+04:00

I knew you several millenia ago,
We walked the wild together

This is your home now
yours alone

And i belong
In a different space
In a different time

What genre is the mind

2004-11-20T13:55:00.000+04:00

Just some random thoughts that have been plaguing my mind...

Poetry, prose, fiction
And a fragmented mind.
Leaping from one to the other
Laden with dissatisfaction
A perpetual struggle

To set that tone
To draw that vision
That feeling sensed
But not expressed

The frustration with forms
And the breathlessness
of words left unsaid
Piling up like a dormant volcano,
Waiting to destroy

To find the true form
And breathe freely again
To stop Becoming
To start to Be.

Heaven ripped apart

2004-11-17T22:25:00.000+04:00

Heaven is tearing at the seams. Is it time for the unstoppable light yet?

The fear of miscommunication

2004-11-17T15:41:00.000+04:00

just another convoluted support for writers block ?

....................................

The trembling finger
on the keyboard
and a fear.

Not that it would be misunderstood.
Worse.
The fear of miscommunication.

Can a thought endure
The transformation to text
while preserving its original intent?

Or do the keys alter
Add insinuations
And change meaning?

Do written words
Contaminate
Purity of the thought?

Or do they only reveal,
In a cold, bleak light
The twisted writers mind?

The illness

2004-11-10T17:19:00.000+04:00

A poem again...

I have begun to see things that aren't there
And feel their stifling absence
Large thing-shaped gaps glaring down
and screaming incompletion

Am i the only one who feels this way?
What was it like before?
Is it my imagination?
Or do the voids get bigger?

I can remember
Beyond the purple pills

a time
when stories had beginnings
and endings.
when people had names
and faces
when words had a script
and meaning

when i had relatives
and friends
when i had a memory
and a past

The mermaid

2004-11-01T22:19:00.000+04:00

done with poems for a bit... a storyette now (if such a thing were to exist)

The mermaid

Every night, as the moon starts to slide down towards the water, I swim up to the rocks that frame the ocean and haul myself onto the one of them. To rise above the surface of the ocean, is to feel the weight of a new identity, to acknowledge the reality of other worlds, waterless existences.

The lights from the city blink enchantingly. The allure of forgotten dreams and carelessly discarded lives. To walk among human beings once again. To feel casual bustle of life assault the senses.

I can remember clearly still, the day I traded my feet in for a pair of fins. My dark hair for a few wisps of silver and my soul for a harp that I knew not how to play.

But why? Was it to solve all the mysteries that lie on the floor of the ocean? Was it to become a mystery myself?
You did not tell me then, that mysteries do not sink to the bottom, they float on the surface of consciousness working to choke you.

You did not tell me then, that mermaids dont always sing.

the call

2004-11-01T22:09:00.000+04:00

more angst.

The call

Waiting for the telephone to scream
Fear that I wouldn’t hear you.

Ears and pulse working overtime,
As I willed you to call.

The wait can stretch forever
No such thing as too long.

Only the fear,
That my breath was too loud.

Too many thoughts and a restless pause
Just not the right time for your call.

It was the most important call you’ve made
‘Cos it’s the one you never made at all.

Insufficient memory

2004-11-01T15:51:00.000+04:00

Is blogging a way of externalising memory? Why do we blog? why do others read them?

Insufficient memory

Memories of you
Take up too much space,
Too much pain,
Too much smell of failure.

There is no space,
To create new memories anymore

I must throw it all out.
Sweep the edges clean.
Scrub between the tiles.
Even the disinfectant stains.

There will be more space,
To record memories afresh

I must do this in a hurry.
Before the broom gives way.
Before the ink runs dry.
Before I loose the will.

There will be new stories,
New memories of you once again!

The problem with beginnings

2004-11-01T15:15:00.000+04:00

the problem with starting to write is that the emptiness looks too beautiful to destroy...

this poem came unstuck from my head several calendar leaves ago...
a quest for a sense of purpose...

WHITHER ALASKA?

It ran off the map a week ago,
Have been searching for it ever since
Have emptied my pockets
Of the small change, even the elusive matchboxes
Scanned my neurons,
Searched the bloodstreams- limb to limb.

MISSING

Call the police,
Alert National Security,
Convene a meeting
Of global heads.

MISSING

Has it gone in search of child hood dreams?
Has it left to find a lost love?
Has it lost the will to live?
Has it lost the will to will?

MISSING

If it appears to you someday mail it back to the cartographers
and include a tube of industrial strength glue.