what i did in kolkata

watched eid ka chaand over the

dvitiya hooghli setu

















pierced my nose for the third time and kept it though the bitch in the parlous said, hey! don't you think that looks odd and unfashionable









































discovered a new + improved first cousin















drying sari at dakshineshwar



















watched kids play kali shiv at dakshineshwar kali bari. Shiv says, get away you! or i'll throw this flower at you






i love the color pallette of the city









coming back train i awake lookin up ....

fine....so i cant get enough of sky

sue me

scattered.

what to write?

i ate all this trash and my tummy is hurting real bad... so tomorrow's plan of eating exotic meat outside the veterinary hospital has to be shelved.


i bought pretty earrings though....

two grins

19/2/2005

1.15 am

i want to eat chocolates so badly today i ate a small five star, 3 perks and now this cadbury's desserts tiramisu.theyre all hideously sweet.craving killed. but i'm not satisfied. i am closing my eyes and pretended to be eating that thick hard and gooey cold chewy dutch truffle from birdy's that i so so so so so dig. mmmmmmmmmmmm.... actually i am not so much a chocolate bar person but my sweet tooth's on overdrive. but i think, the more a give her, the more she wants. so there. no more sweet for boni. so let's think of other things. so as i was saying, do wimmen deeply desire fascist men? and then what happens when feminist wimmen discover fascist men? do they have to kill their true desire for fascist man cause its against their politicial position to enjoy such pleasure? or does the feminist in her encourage the slave in her to unleash her servitude to actualise recognise and appreciate her true pleasure politics.and if she spends all her romantic energy analysing the relationship what will the poor slave do? doesnt she deserve her existence too? the above is an abstraction and any resemblance to anything supriya or anyone else might be saying is purely co-incidental.i should just write about chocolates. or shall i write about my positive views on interpersonal physical violence? nooo, not that. i mean.... how could you do that to me!! WhACK. there must be a way of recognising violence as not abuse between people. when domestic violence is not "domestic violence" but another honest bit of communication. ok, boni... you should sleep now. go to the fridge and eat the rest of the chocolate. brush your teeth. drink water. and sleep.

waaaaah no one reads my blog




fine,
i quit.

my chhamiya look for navami... sans the red heels talking to someone on the phone

ma clicked.

the most spectacular visarjan happened last evening...
the pregnant sky expressed as the dhaak beats rose .... quickly she was lifted and circled and plunged lest she bleed away before she's meant to.
she was created as per the committe's specifications. distance between the eyes should be...
bisu, ma's too fat. no no, madam, the sari wont stay if we maker her thighs any leaner. she needs more hay.
while the pandit says- veda, vedanta, vedanga vidya sthanebbo ebocho
khusur phusur- asur and durga seem to be romancing. she needs to look more aggressive.

post all the bitching sessions by the various wimmen in the pratima committee and bisu being put in lock-up on suspision that he was hiding explosives inside the pratima, the earthen pratima, vegetable dyed, ecofriendly was brought to tejpal.
there she was deified. by memory, ritual and lots of dhaak, dhol, kaashi, shaankh and dhunuchi.

i served thousands of people on ashtami and navami days. won brownie points from maa.:D
the evening programme was a very engaging kaavya-giti. violin, percussion creating moodspaces, rhythms and making narrative of the poems presented.loved rendition of papangul. i love verses! by the time it was navami night i had all the motivation for the chhamiya look.
wore my (sexy) red blouse and (elegant) black georgette sari with gold-red border. went for the maha arati and took the shankh and played it till i fainted and my lips bruised.dhunuchi, dhaak, dhol, kaashi and shaankh just right. very very heady. very very happy.
parents decide to go to shivaji park.(i agree cause i wanna buy those terracotta earrings). my dainty redblack heels sink into the keechad. my heart sinks with it. but i lift up the hearts of those boys sitting on scaffolds while they laugh at me clumsily trying to yank my feet lodged ankle deep in sludge. more brownie points maa?

strange feeling as the sky let go on dasami at chowpatty. i stood at the threshold watching the boys throw ganesh kartik saraswati in one by one.... and then a loud 'aasche bochhor abar hobe'... and plunge.
a sudden sharp feeling that i have not known. so much expression spilling out, so much restraint, all of it plunged into the sea before the rain may bleed her eyes.
to scatter the emotion, the dhaaki breaks the wave on to his friend and he yelps and everyone laughs. the rain is hard and suddenly it's all over.

Find me!

curdled against ma las night . she humned and she thumped . and i was inside her again

has been transferred to nominee

.

.

iam reading this person's blog. this person who i decided broke every twig in my world five years back. but every word i read i feel forgiving. not that she needs any of my forgiveness.but i feel calmed and understanding and want to say it's okay, i know. yes yes. i can see how you find life so funny, the need to write a witty line,the need for restraint, the fear of role reversal. i am soothed to see you trying making a nest again from stray snatches of peace.or maybe it's because i feel, wow you're so broken now.serves you right,bitch.
but all my filthy wishes of having you die of green jaundice have been purged.my body will need time to catch up though since iam so used to detesting you. maybe my poison shouldnt have been for you but the person we both wanted to be dug into. perhaps i need my forgiveness more.

.

.

*mumbles incoherently

.

.

current mood- crappy

*mumbles incoherently

dont wanna take pictures

i want my life in straight jacket

i want to travel

even commuting will do

maybe i'll just buy a titwala return and sit in the train or should i get a khargar return or do i want to watch the salt pans down to virar?

i like salt pans. i hope they dont make sea salt illegitimate and take away all that land.

i want to be reciting tappa in winter nights wearing a big bindi with thick curly black hair handkneaded into a bun held snug with an elderberry wildflower where my gutturals chafe skins into a deadwind summer.

But my skin is chafing with wood allergies again. every piece of furniture in my house is wooden, the doors are wooden and the skirting is wooden, the beds, chairs, all the cupboards, tables, even the big clock.

.

.

ds

i thought i knew weird people
now i even know a closeted heterosexual bwhahahahahahaha

Is it time to read Pablo Neruda yet? I don’t know, so I read ee cummings hoping to find familiarity in a goat footed balloonman that whistles far and weeeeeee
where bettyanddisbel come from hopscotch and piracies in broken lines small letters. but I find …

a wind has blown the rain
away and blown the sky away
and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I
think, I too, have known autumn
too long. - e e cummings

niteesh

nitish is one of the most consistently good writers i know. (is that grammatically correct?)
his latest pretty line..
(when) she has stars in her eyes, her feet barely touch the ground.

even if he writes a bullet pointed how-to on some server it's fulfilling to read!
i will sell his letters and make a fortune when he gets famous

There is a word for it

tarantism (TAR-uhn-tiz-uhm) noun An uncontrollable urge to dance.

After Taranto, a town in southern Italy where this phenomenon was experienced during the 15-17th centuries. It's not clear whether tarantism was the symptom of a spider's bite or its cure, or it may have been just a pretext to dodge aprohibition against dancing. The names of the dance tarantella and the spidertarantula are both derived from the same place.

The director is in a wild delirium, spinning in circles as though stricken with
tarantism, his whirring camera held at arm's length, panning, tilting, arcing
and oscillating and making other moves that have no name.

Caelum Vatnsdal; Kino Delirium: The Films of Guy Maddin; Arbeiter Ring Publishing; 2000.
courtesy AWAD - anu garg

Pune trip part1

1. hen is the gladiator

2. your guess is as good as mine

3. nishant is god cooldude avatar- absolut peach and classic milds

4. bug bite hen . hen bite bug

leftover tea

jasmine pods all flailed out

juto juti

plis clik on picture to see big big shoes and big big text

boni wants!!

shokol niye boshe achhi shorbonasher aashaye/

There is something about crimes of passion that I find sacred.
I am trying to expand on glob.1 of how domestic violence can be a beautiful thing. I am looking for words that don’t heave too much and a tone that wont aria too much. but then if it becomes placid will it be untrue to the nature of the moment? The way I cannot translate the nature of moments bismillah khan calls najayaz.
This isn’t supposed to be a winterfresh thin ice topic. It’s to be a clotted crimson lodged somewhere. So let’s thaw this a bit… till then, I keep talking about my piercing.