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.

Its going to be 24hours since I dug through my cartilage and I think it was the meanest thing I could have done to my body. It looks pretty sometimes in the mirror but it doesn’t feel beautiful to me in my head. I know now one thing - this whim thing is not for me and when I get cold feet I should respect it. I want to un-rip it. I want my nose to be whole again. godf says if I hate it at first I’ll fall in love with it. But I feel disrespectful towards my body and I am guilty of being abusive of it. He says we hate what we do with our bodies in an attempt to beautify mollify attract piss off someone else. But the body is personal. Something done for self is beautiful, he says. I think it’s true. I don’t know why I did this anymore. A silly whim. Maybe I should think before doing things. And I don’t want to see the hole. No feel good. I am not a piercing person.

continued from glob.11

So I am super sucky at judging people’s intentions. Sup, the only person I thought would back out, did not. In fact, when I got my fight or flight syndrome on overdrive, it was she that thrust me on the chair and held my hand and gently instructed me to shut the fuck up and do it. She went first. I held her hand. She held mine. Surprisingly, diki turned up and promised to pierce the kachkach part of her ear. (she dint)

However, the community that was to come, did not.Nikita had to get to work on sunday. Rai went for a namkaran ceremony. Harita dint come to bombay cause …ummm……and she’s stealing booz off this sound engineer that I was eyeing. but she’s promised to share him with though technically she was eyeing him before me. :D :D :D thats the nice thing about school friends. way to go harita! lasso him!

glob

there are so many things i had to write about, i dont know where to start and how to write about them.

1. of how domestic violence can be such a beautiful thing. sincerely.

3. of wanting to move to pune.

5.pune trip was so frikkin awesome and i havent seen so much fighting compressed into 5 days. harita and nishant drove each other mad. after a while it drove me mad. bodhisattva henry was full of peace of succour.
twinkee on the other hand failed to make an appearance despite the carrot of chicken n wine for somethings cookin!


7. the trick to a longlasting relationship is to be in love with someone who completely doesnt understand you. so you can never say...oh we dont understand each other anymore. its amazing. cause you cant even grow in different directions. yes, may need different support system.

9. about my toy rat i got from behrampada.

5. of a certain purple shirted rohanshivkumar's piercing that looks so pretty as if he was born with it.

7.how i'm so frikkin lost about what i wanna do with my frikkin life

9. of the time i discovered toppa songs... rizwana banya sings them in a loungy way but i still like it.

11. sex and violence and vice versa.

11. why do i want to pierce my nose? is it because i have an uneventful life so i need a stimulant? will it lower my self worth knowing that wannabe rock fans get piercings to heighten their selfimage and feel 'arrived' ? is it strange to hang foreign objects from one's body parts? will body reject this foreign object and swell and make pus? apparantly its also a quasi self destructive art but hey i just want a nose piercing! boni, dont think so much. just get it done.see itll looks so pretty!but my nose is so snub and rounded at the tip you cant even see the goddamned piercing.
hmmmm but then it's this irreversible commitment.

apparantly, Nose piercing was brought to India in the 16th Century from the Middle East by the Moghul emperors. In India a stud (Phul) or a ring (Nath) is usually worn in the left nostril. The left side is the most common to be pierced in India, because that is the spot associated in Ayuvedra (Indian medicine) with the female reproductive organs, the piercing is supposed to make childbirth easier and lessen period pain.

If the gun comes in contact with the inside of the nose potentially fatal micro-organisms (Staphyloccocus Aureus), can be transmitted between customers, and as aproximately 30% of the population have residant colonies of Staph. Aureus in their noses, you have a 1 in 3 chance of developing a potentially fatal infection, because of the proximity of the nose to the brain. et cetera et cetera ..... http://www.bmezine.com/pierce/articles/ptafter/nose.html

and i was thinking of getting a gun thing done. aaaargh. now i am all enlightened.also i will not use silver. ma was right. silver is bad bad bad idea. its carcinogenic and causes all these bad reactions.
i'll have to deal with those lumps forming around my nose. one year is too long to deal with.i wish ma pierced my nose when i was little.


Body Piercing Problems Emergencies Call 911 or other emergency services immediately.
Rapid swelling of the tongue or throat, causing difficulty swallowing or breathing
Severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis)
Moderate to severe difficulty breathing

hmmm... so we're gonna be doing community piercing this sunday before i do anymore google research and change my mind. nikita has a pretty nose.she's a punju pyt.she'll look pretty with nose pierce. harita's down for the weekend, she'll get yet another ear piercing. hen says he'll pierce himself. sup i think will back out. rai says she hasnt prepared herself for it.

13. how i dont feel like taking pictures anymore.

people i met at the sophia polytech

riddhi&me


rai&me

cherry&me





riddhi is the gujjuben. her sister was in the process of getting married all through the year. she makes the best excuses in the world for not doing work/not turning up/forgetting- and all of that indignantly.
Eg.i cannot come for the shoot because i have to go to my designer.
did i mention she was production person for our class docu?hehe. much fun. she is a paranoid jain with a meateating bong boyfriend. hehehe.


rai&me are at a 25th marriage anniversary of someone we have commonlink with.Rai calls her shikha-di though she's actually her dida(granma) in relation. i call her shikha-mashi and her husband gautam-kaku. we are both drunk and decide to be sober when sloshed middleaged men start dancing with us to kala kauua kaat khaega.click.
all her ex-ex boyfriends' mothers still shower her with gifts.


cherry i thought was the snootiest bitch in scm but she's the loveydoveyest. she's quite mad and sings at the swanky hotels like the renaissance, at not just jazz by the bay etc. much abandon in her voice. she's done her masters in lit and writes for man's world now. this chick fled to dubai for some bliss while everyone else went mad postproduction. now Thats what i like.

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Last night grew out of candela’s frazzled hairs... many swift feet dancing their nightly prayers...
Dancing down the stairs... candela’s frazzled hairs having affairs

My eyes schlepped.
.......................but candela’s frazzled hairs, said their prayers and had affairs...

Reserved for the k

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kay so go ahead. post in the comments.

xavier's loos

much time has been abandoned here... in waiting.
at the 30s loo behind psycho lab.

. . . "And if anybody was to come to you and say, “I know the Javva currents,” don’t you listen to him; for those currents is never yet known to mortal man. Sometimes they’re here, sometimes they’re there, but they never runs less than five knots an hour through and among those islands of the Eastern Archipelagus. There’s reverse currents in the Gulf of Boni—and that’s up north in Celebes—that no man can explain.... "

My first Contest

Now it is not very often that I am driven to write about giftable items that I see advertised on some website. but this is special.
in the above image there is gladrags, the Keeper, the Diva Cup, the jade and pearl.

If ANYONE reading can guess what these exotic things are, they get free dessert. Seriously!
NO cheating!

hen is real pissed cause he got frisked at the station.
they sized him up, spoke to him badly and took his name, address etc. he wasnt even carrying any baggage with him.
just the famous 21 colorpieced jap umbrella (which technically belongs to me cause he gifted it to me. but he borrows it from me every monsoon.)
he says it's discrimination against beards and bald heads. my brother says its probably cause they thought he was mao-ist. everytime something like this happens he thinks more about AFSPA and home.
after the blasts he said- it feels like home. doesnt feel like home anymore i suppose cause now the cops always size him up at stations.upsetting. (also he lost the umbrella! waaaaaaaah)


hen in self portrait

Edouard Boubat

La petite fille aux feuilles mortes" 1947 © EDOUARD BOUBAT
little girl in dead leaves

at sunderbhai hall two evenings ago, i saw this big book of portraits.
what poetry
what magic
what romance
what spirit
god i want to click people again.


i cant find online the pictures i so loved.
i love boubat and i hope it doesnt go away

i am really really looking for this book !

Where have all the snails gone! And the little lime tu-tus that danced around my letters in kitten heels? eyelashes.. arched necks….lizards. Its been long since I squiggled on paper...handwrote letters.
Y!Doodle where are you my savior! my mouse is so shticky now. i miss what it was to Y!Doodle. I want my mouse and Y! Doodle back!!! waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!


12. 8. 2004 /

My first movie review

(No, Spoilers cant follow)

Yun hota to kya hota....what if?
(need i say more?)


GOOD
suhasini muley
suhasini muley dancing svelte in red lycra
irfan khan kisses suhasini muley!!
ratna pathak and paresh rawal love story! ...... sigh...lovelier, more touching...than all the others...

BAD
some forced theatrical bits like " mujhe mil jo jae thoda paisa " followed by "sare jahan se achha"
like Naseer Shah Jr. mouthing hindi monologues in drama speech pattern
forced metaphor like abandoned woman in red addicted blowing bubbles in her house
konkona sensharma is so irritatingly screechy but...thats just me.
the ending is...ohhh! should i tell you? besides being like a bad old music video.... heal the world sob
"ek baar jana...america" horrid song

UGLY
ayesha takia in lots of clothes.... what to say? how does she walk on heels with those?

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the top of my lavender bottle cover sliced off onto my hands leaving the oil wide eyed like a Cyclops.
Since I couldn’t shut the eye, I shut the door.BigBang!of wooden door and my cupcake tray hurrying out of the cabinet clumsily upset the stash of mustard bottles. Bloody klutz! Just like me. 3 bottles of mustard lay grinning on the floor. Before it hit my nose it hit my eyes and my kitchen was turning pale pale pale….
I dread what comes out of the eye of the Cyclops because it will turn the most agreeable smell into a pursuing blackwidow bee. Reminds me of how my nose would quiver when it detected anything the texture of lo mani. And my skin would call to mind the reaper.

Shall I put a picture of the reaper here?
Klutz. I like saying it. Klutz. Klutz. Klutz. Distilling it, I find some profane sounds. Klutz carries more spirit than ‘clumsy’ ever could.
Clumsy fizzles out.
Klutz scolds, points a finger at your nose.
doesn’t try to play it down like ‘Clumsy’.

Besides,
when you really mean to begin with k, you shouldn’t begin with a c
the l latches onto k more aggressively.

Please let your tongue do the comparing.

Clean /clement/ clear/ claims/ clams v/s Klammer/ klumb/ klom/ klim/ Kleenex

Time I slept. Here, the picture of the reaper. Ta-da!

Should I upload it now? Or maybe in the daytime. I have to get my blanket from the other bed all the way down the living room. The curtains must be open with wet trees…can the reaper come in through the sheer?
Those who want to see a picture of the reaper please google it. The goriest one with a big sickle is the one I am talking about.

ok so i scampered back with my blanket...
but i cant find that picture anymore..... make do =

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flyby verses

i could begin telling you of the delicious feeling i get when the abstract and material cometoghether so seamlessly- when a transposition is so lucid - that epiphany takes effort of a preoccupied tuttifutti. but this image is incomplete.so i cannot show you the entire verse of the gulls.

'but it rained' by nitish

thankyou shukla! for such cool font! i really love the faces. i can stare at them for hours!!really.

my blue earrings

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everyones always going into deep discourses with self about what is the blog and who it really caters to. is it for the anonymous reador that clicks 'next blog' while procrastinating about cleaning up her life or is it for the friend that stops by when theyre bored and could do with some passive conversation or is it for self that can have some self indulgence when theyre staring at screen after having typed gmail.com, mail.yahoo.com,google.com, etc etc involuntarily and dont know what to type anymore.
thankfully, i dont need to do such digging deeps cause no one really reads this blog.
incidentally discourse is latin for the act of running about. but considering the heavyweight patriarchal associations that (seem to)have chewingummed to the word, feminists (seem to) hate it and instead (seem to)use the term conversations. 'towards a new feminist epistemology' as spivak would root.i only root for long haired countries, the flamenco kinds.anything spanish-mexican-italian-yo'know is good. whats with venezuela. where is it on the map? they have such gorgeous men and women, i wonder how theyre a monogamous nation.or maybe theyre not. like the rest of us.why does scandanavia(whoever corrected my marignated spelling pliss do the honors) have such strange laws. i had read in a science journal that there are gay and bisexual drosophilae, flies,lions etc. anyway, theyre mutated dna.
i am thinking i should be a travel writer. my writing travels much even in front of the comp.
its been so long since i put pen to paper. my handwritings all confused if it's supposed to be cursive or float between the lines, or if itis supposed to creep on them. the ring finger on my right hand has healed since i havent held a pen/cil in hand for months now.
i cant find ANY of my music. Panic. if anyone has blues with tomtom and meandering deep voices please let me know. any acoustic music.


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procrastin-X

whats the antonym of foretelling?

Free Sample Karmic Reading for chandrani !

Nodes of the Moon (Your Karmic Doorways)
North Node of the Moon in Taurus

In prior lives, you experienced intense, perhaps violent upheavals in your love relationships. You may have lost a lover to war or some other tragic end; you may have been in a marriage marked by violence and were unable to trust your partner. The sense that nothing is truly stable -- that circumstances can change in a heartbeat, in a devastating way -- has lasted with you through to your current life.

You may find it quite difficult to trust your lover at a very deep level; you yearn for attachment but the very feeling of becoming dependent on another person makes you quite uncomfortable. You might put your lover through "tests," trying to discern whether their love for you is real or ephemeral.

You are likely to be a friendly, relaxed person on the outside, but inside you have deep psychic wounds that cause you anxiety within your relationships. You might notice that there have been people in your life who seemed to dislike you for no logical or apparent reason. These people are likely to be people from a prior life whom you somehow hurt, abused or alienated, with whom you reincarnated in your current life.
(gaaaaaah atleast in some life i've managaged to get back at that @#$%^ Am/ri/ta Pu/ri)

You have gone through extreme, sometimes violent, transformations in prior lives, chandrani. This has left you with a feeling of being off balance, each crisis pulling the rug out from under you.

In a past life (or number of past lives), you have abused your talents and personal powers to the detriment of those around you. This may have the effect of finding many people who express a violent dislike for you without any visible reason. They will appear whenever you allow your ego to rule your desires.
(aaaaargh! what bad bad karma! )

There are possible lifetimes spent as a revolutionary and most people with this placement have experienced the forces of witchcraft. Other possible past lifetimes were as detective, spy, researcher or alchemist.



http://rep.astrology.com/free/10738/8108/gif1.html - my chart
http://www.astrology.com/aboutastrology/interpreting/chartwheel/index.html - plis help
wha?

this summer as the sky lay barren, sup and i wondered what we wanted to smell of
floral? hmm. high notes. no.
musk?..too heady.
fruits!vanilla! hmm. no. feel hungry all the time.
tea tree then maybe. but can be nondescript. wave close to general smells.
but you know they can make ittar out of ANYTHING! her aai said
so i can smell of wet earth? - mitti ka ittar, she said it was called.
so thats it! thats what i will smell of. wet slushy earth waiting to sprout.

so off we went in the summer heat under JJ flyover to look for
perhaps
a bearded old man that hawked the smell of pregnant earth in little faux crystal bottles to make
his measly living.

exit romance.

there was this chalu guy in stonewashed jeans who frogged us cause we dint know better.so anyway, we bought another bottle from some place else. everyone seems to hate the
smell of it.ma says chheeee. no one wants to come near me when i wear it. so i mix green
musk in it or tea tree or some florals. bleah.

deep stuff

what is the vector form of sridevi?

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tabu........

(because sridevi did chandni... and....tabu did chandni Bar)

83 and 121 on request

eeeks i really need to lose weight

Remains of the day

disclaimer: nights of hard work have gone into the photoshopping by the maker/taker of the images
therefore muttering obscenities incoherently shall not be tolerated. (is that fine now?)

remains of the day

....has been taken off by the bitch

as the pomfret sat marignating (is that how you spell it? with a g?) .... the parsheymaach fried..

then...the pomfret was laid to be put in the oven... it smelt like green things smell. wholesome and slight garlicky teekha tangyish. hmmmm...

as the pomfret grilled, the brown and yellow mustard seeds ground on the big black stone..
and shorshey bata parsheymaach making the eyes run already.

hmmm....... meanwhile. pomfret was out! crisp on top... hmmm. browning...

but then...we forgot about the chicken... damn!

Error

We apologize for the inconvenience, but we are unable to process your request at this time. Our engineers have been notified of this problem and will work to resolve it.

I am having withdrawal symptoms for don mclean. I cant find where I put alllll those songs … mc lean, dylan, baez and all of them.
So I am going to have to sing to myself and pretend that its playing…

It's just the sun that's shinin'in your eyes.
It's just the moon that is the sun's disguise.
Just the sky, with clouds a blowin' by.
The sun and the moon and the sky, and you and I.

It's just the rain that's rollin'down my cheek.
It's just the wind that makes me hear you speak.
It's just the song that anyone can sing.
The rain and the wind and the song and the love you bring.

It's just the world that gonna break your heart.
It's just the past that's tearin' us apart.
It's just the time we have so little of.
The world and the past and the time that we fell in love.

It's just the sun that's shinin'in your eyes
It's just the moon that is the sun's disguise
It's just the sky, with clouds a blowin' by
The sun and the moon and the sky, and you and I.

currently i am making do with Jason Wade's shrek ost"you belong to me"hehehehe ... hmmm nice voice his

ps: i've had to connect 17 times to be able to post this....

before the whole fiasco, there was some kaam going on in the house. in that phase, maa changed the curtains and put the scary bronze curtains that turn the living room into the addams family. ta-da-da-dum click click. when its really harsh sunny outside, the living room would have this 19th Century neo gothic interior lighting. also, we got some of the furniture out. my favourite mirror you see here.

my visit to the hospital

after i went to the zoo, i went to matheran. the day i came back from matheran i visited J. Lata was there too. I came back home and i was sick. the next day i was in bed. so today i am out of bed and i watched some films. it was all a blur. ma thinks ki mujhe lata ki nazar lag gayi. she wants to put mirchi on me. meanwhile, i visited the hospital. i hated every moment of it except for the meals. i also now have a morbid fear of any intravenous injection. i have a morbid fear of hospitals, nurses. basically very morbid stuff happened.
but i must tell you what lies behind that breach candy hospital!!this real fancy pool next to the sea.
hmmm, okay. i have dialup tcp/ip. so photos take a while. so i will have to keep typing to keep awake cause i just took my medicines.
today i also went for coffee with my teacher ajay and friend diksha. diksha gave me famous five to read cause i couldnt read for a while.she also gave me this morbid autobiography of a mother in auswitch. gaah. i am not reading that stuff. ajay has bulbulous eyes- the kind that frogs have when theyre trying to digest a heavy meal. but i wonder what a heavy meal is for a frog. the first day he came to class he wore a cool white shirt and a moustache. and asked, so did you guys notice the light today? he never paid attn. to any of my answers. may he rot in hell. once he asked us "name emotions". anything i named was never an emotion. may he rot in hell again.
diksha hated me the first day of class. she thought i was the xavier's type.
okay. one picture loaded.
should i load another? maybe i should. i will fight this drug.
lata is a thin reptile like thing. her daughther looks like her and is as irritating. i am sorry i dont like kids that age. diksha hates kids too. she says kids are too spoilt these days. she likes streetkids. hmm. kids are damn irritating these days and theyre damn smart. lata's kid is so spoilt.and she wears pink pants, pink tops, pink hairclips, pink socks, pink shoes and sucks on pink candies. i want to throw up. when i was small they fed me chillies you know. ajay seems to like kids. i suppose its stuff that happens to you when you get past 30.
i also met cherry today. she's a little mad so its nice. i dunno why her hair color is like that. ahhh! the page crashed. so i have to reload the picture. i dont like this medicine. its making me so groggy and its difficult to type.
oh the cab driver was so so drunk and he refused to stop the cab and he refused to drive like a human being. i dont know what he was thinking. what an asshole. why does he have to kill me NOW? lata even dances like a reptile. but she's damn funny in class. she has this sarcy sense of humor.
in a way i miss lectures. i miss my TY eng lit lectures and i miss some scm lectures too.

when will i post my matheran pictures...should i post them at all? that memory seems to have been completely washed out. YAY its loaded.

O i have to tell you about baba iaga.
She’s not like the rest of the young Ukrainian, Belarussian witches. She’s not young like rusalka, she isn’t pretty like Margarita… baba yaga rocks man!
Okay so Rusalka is interesting too. She lives in the east slavic waters and emerges in the night to dance circles in the fields or sits in the trees combing hair. The souls of maidens who committed suicide by drowning cause they were pregnant out of wedlock. Rusalka seduces young men into the waters by her singing and tickles them so they drown. *giggles
Margarita is are boring. She is the PYTs. She serves as her master’s muse and redeems him with her love et cetera. *throws up

Baba iaga is ugly, old thin, has a bony leg sometimes. She lives in the middle of a forest in a hut that stands on a chicken’s leg… so when the folktale hero comes in she can turn away, hide and detect him by smell. She flies in an iron kettle. She likes human flesh, especially kids. Sometimes she can be very kind and grant you the water of life, flyby horses or magic thingies like combs that turn into forests, hankies that become deserts or mirrors that turn into lakes. Baba yaga can come in triplicate - sisters that test the hero and provide him magic thingamagiggos. But Baba yaga also has the water of death.

Pssk : north Russian rusalki have breasts of iron which they use to beat their male victims. What fun!

old flame

also, i saw something at the zoo that tipped off my secret garden memories from many years back when i ran into that big tree that had hundreds of pots hanging from it
it had the most intimate smell, the most intricate flowers and the strangest feelings about it
i brought home a flower one evening
ma said it was an insect eater

i'd cycle past it, run past it, look at it through an eye slit,
ggaaah! to think of a flower gobbling down insects

then one day i gathered all the nerve i could and touched the innards of one of them then suddenly i remembered their carnivorous nature… so i scrambled onto my cycle, peddled, fell into the gutter.
then i opened my eyes to check if my fingers were there or if she ate them up
ok so they were still there
so in the zoo under the colonies of bats grew memories of my secret garden
i came back and picked one off the ground. it was still taut and curled in, still the same intimate smell when i opened it.
















so this is a wilted one. but make do. pretend its all saturated pinkred and the inside is orange yellow and that its all curled in and taut ...ready to chomp on the next bug okay?

my visit to the zoo

since i went to zoo before i went to matheran and there was much i wanted to write about it...



the psycho emu




the depressed baboon ...

i shall try not to write about what ails me and concentrate on what is long overdue
my matheran trip snaps
they wil be here soon
i washed my hair today
and i forgot to put in the shampoo
what a waste
my post i can see is going to be a long garble
i have been looking for umberto eco's books
oh my matheran trip
i have no memory of it anymore
except for the kulfi, talgoda, power failure and star theatre feeling, the smoke and monkeys jumping on the tin shed.
so thats all.
some spooky snaps i shall post soon. yes
soon.
okay
now i think i am catching a chill...
the siren is wailing at 11 30 today
everyones lazy i suppose....
i should go now...

hello hello... this is yo yo fever management speaking
so after stagnating for 4 days at 104 degrees... my doc decided to whip out of his potli ... this real cool magic pill... current temperature 95 degrees!! cold cold cold
weeeeeeeeeeee
it sooooooooooooo good
ok now time up. i am sick again

Amazing grace ...

itna lamdang a min ngai e

kei bang kihhui hon hut

kei ka mangkhin tu’n a hon mu

mitdel, tu’n ka mu thei ...

tummy hurts
head hurts
back hurts
jaw hurts
scalp hurts
eyes hurt
heels hurt

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Its been so long since I saw cotton sail out of trees. I suppose oberoi builders have hacked them down. When chandrani was small, she would gather cotton in her frock. Then, she’d pick the stony seeds and carry the cloud home. ma would refuse to have any flyby cotton at home and throw her out. She never learnt. every day when cottons would soar in the heat, she’d scurry about in the white haze…snatch the white off the air, hold tight in her fist and open them to ma. Raw cotton grow out of her palms and leap out into the room. ma mad. C collects what she can and throws out urgently. Runs to her bedwindow to watch them fade into the evening.
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As the air turned moist, cotton would begin clotting on the grass. When they could cast shadows would be the end of their flight. Cotton season over. So that evening she brought home the clots - in her shoes,kneepits, in her ears, creeping out of her nose, hiding under her hair.... Ma came in screaming that she’d die if she inhaled any of that stuff. c morbid. Choking on some in her throat, she dug it into mud under the roses and potatoes. When ma left, she tore open her blanket and stuffed it all in- seeds, clouds mud and all...

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"If the facts are on your side,
pound the facts.
If the law is on your side,
pound the law.
If neither is,
pound the table."


- The art of pathos in rhetoric

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An extract from the book me’s still reading .... here..

Part III Promise her anything but give her K-23

..... Logic limits love, which may be why Descartes never married. Descartes, architect of the Age of Reason, fled Paris, the City of Romance, in 1628 to “escape its distractions”. He settled in Holland, studied and wrote about Mathematics and logic. Late in the year of 1649, he was invited to visit Stockholm to instruct Queen Christina in philosophy. Descartes accepted at once. Perhaps the pay was good. There would have been a reason.

Queen Christina took her lessons lying down. Frequently she was nude. That is hardly the worst of it. The court of Sweden, like everyplace else in seventeenth-century Europe, was infested with fleas. Christina had had her craftsmen fashion for her a tiny cannon of silver and gold. As she lay about on her cushions, she fired the little canon at the fleas on her body. That was why she was nude. It is said she was a fair to good shot.

The daily sight of Her Majesty thus amusing herself while he, Descartes, in dark Dutch birches, undertook to explain the underlying perfection of an indubitable sphere of Being, was more than his rational bias could bear. He grew rapidly nervous and pale. On February 11, 1650, only a few months after his arrival in Stockholm, Descartes, fifty-four, fell dead. Christina lived thirty-nine years longer and knocked off a good many more fleas.

In 1666- little harm love could do to him then- Descartes’s body was taken to Paris for reburial. At the funeral, a disagreeable odor filled the churchyard. “It was as if a goatherd had driven his flock through our midst,” said one of Descartes’s followers. No logical explanation was offered.

(the author is grateful to Jessica Maxwell, whose ancestor once owned a perfume shop in New Orleans, and who traded him that shop for a flying conch shell)

hamesha se apni patni ki sundarta pe garv karne wala abhi bas rehta hai ye dukh ke saath ki uski patni ka ab….etc
So this is how they started the tezaab phekne wala incident news on Sahara Samay. Hellooooo!
some guy throws acid on this woman laxmi and top priority is hubby's thoughts on longing for her sundarta?

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There were so many things I wanted to write about tonight… periwinkle petals that i’d spit-stick on my fingernails and pretend it was that purple nail polish… of kisses and boiled unsalted squid…. the disappearance of dragonflies from near my favourite rock…the skies curdling these days…them robbing my rocks and giving away to builders…so the waves don’t crash anymore they just creep on the broken bathroom tiles....hmmm

or only a locust of pigeons sometimes.

another sky, another time

October 24, 2005 trip to the moon



October 22, 2005 all charged up



October 23, 2005 blue-orange tufts




December 12, 2005 natalie imbruglia sky

tar shojol chokhe kajol chhilo na| chhilo na ashadh megher badhon chhilo, badol chhilo na||

yesterday's sky was a pretentious bitch.
lied.
all decked up heaving to rain.
dint.
so i went to to the sea early this evening to check what it was all about.
the sky was all curdled. the gibbous moon looked fuzzy but it was pulling at the waves alright.
the air was sultry salty. but the flybyskybees under the wet rocks were gone.
i wonder whats wrong...
some 27 stars i could see. no dragonflies today
and then the guard there slashed bright light in my eyes - idhar letneka nahi.

so does anyone think the new jap tourist coke ad is offensive?

bits of Barnabe Barnes' Sestine 4.

was reading on poetic forms, came upon an old sestine... heres a taste of the poem for short attention spans, though in my attempt to 'showcase' it, the sestine's broken. But then i don't fancy it for its 6line stanzas anyway, i like it cause...... you will see

from ...Eccho, what shall I do to my Nymphe, when I goe to behold her? [ Parthenophil and Parthenophe 1593]


Eccho, what shall I do to my Nymphe, when I goe to behold her?
Eccho, hold her.

So dare I not, least she should thinke that I make her a pray then?
Eccho, pray then.

…Yea but I greatly feare, she will haue pure thoughtes to refuse such?
Eccho, fewe such. / ...//



Such will I seeke but what shall I do when I first shall attempt her?
Eccho, tempt her.

How shall I tempt her eare she stand on termes of her honor?
Eccho, on her.

Oh might I come to that! I thinke it is euen so
Eccho, tis euen so.

Strongly to tempt, and moue (at first) is surely the best then?
Eccho, the best then. /….. //


What (when they do repugne, yet cry not forth) will they do then?
Eccho, do then.

With such a blunt proeme, Ladies shall I moue neuer
Eccho, euer.

I must waite at an inche on such Nymphes whom I regard so
Eccho, guarde so.

Those whom in hart I loue, my faith doth firmely deserue such
Eccho, serue such.

Then (to become their slaues) is no great dishonor?
Eccho, honor.

But to the muses (first) I will recommend her
Eccho, commende her //……

meanwhile............AISHWARYAAAH!!

the one thing i feared most as a shrimp was the camera.
so in all my pictures i am eitheir crying or about to break into this morbid wail
when i learnt to talk i feared the camera a little less but i wouldnt be shot alone
so by the time i was four i had to make faces at it pretending i am not being shot
so i never touched any camera till i was 15 i think
and one day ........


(stay tuned)

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Times of India
.
BHUJ/ANJAR: A blast from a transistor-radio injured six members of a family in Kotda-Chandrani village of Anjar taluka here on Monday morning, blinding two of the members.

nepal ka chinese

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diksha and i were to watch clouds las night
but we ate garlic chicken instead
diksha has garhwali eyes
she reminds me of me at 15
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to be sung with every shred of purity left in your marrow a.k.a whthfck!

and all this while i dint know !!
as i see now, rufus wainwright never sang it with the last part
et tu rufus!

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come here to fool you

And even though it went all wrong I'll stand before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Halleluljah

Hallelujah ....Hallelujah

Hallelujah ....Hallelujah

Hallelujah ....Hallelujah

Hallelujah ....Hallelujah

...... Hallelujah

.

and i've been singing till ......

...and every breath we drew was hallelujah// maybe theres a god above and all i ever learnt from love is....

hmmmm. wikipedia.
so they havent even mentioned the father of my child- rufus wainwright !

THIS IS A CONSPIRACY!
whathefck ? so i was in coma??
Wikipedia lists some 23 singers including Dylan, Bono who've done covers.

The universe is conspiring against me, what do you have to say for yourself Paulo Coelho?

ps : apparantly there is some Enrique Morente's Spanish interpretation in modern flamenco style ?? and even wikipedia doesnt know. *pulls faces at wikipedia and whines

.

Today I will write about the dithyramb
the god of the wine press and the winnowing fan
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Tragedy (tragis + odie) : the song of the goat. The goat that stood for human at the alter of Dionysus.
a satyr half-human half-goat wailed a lament while he hacked
a lament for the kill..... a lament for the guilt..... a lament while the choruses sang
....................................................................... and danced the dithyramb

Winning poet awarded a bull

to evoke Dionysus ....The one to whom the greeks sacrificed shattered pottery in hope that no more be shattered at war
Dionysus is bromius – he of the loud shout
Dionysus is dendrites – he of the trees
Dionysus is dithyrambus – he of the double door
The one of the wine press and the winnowing fan
The one they tried to sell as slave to Asia
filled the vessel with ivy and flutes so the sailors went mad leaped into sea and turned into dolphins

The one that passed out at king Midas’ garden near the roses

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lalkholian

.

so i watched the sun go drown today
as i watched the stars sum up

and he came back from church and sang thesong the pastor sang back home

............................................................lam tho nin.... zesu ka zui zel ding
teeth is haA
ear is deNg
eye is myth
nose is hNnar

breasts is hnooté and any aunty is nooté

and all the time i wondered how he could miss his dog And the bees that killed it


............................................................lam tho nin.... zesu ka zui zel ding

introspection for the day

one of those online tests .. they say .. You Are a Henna Gaijin!

You're not Japanese, but you wish you were!You can use chopsticks with your eyes closed, and you've memorized hundreds of Kanji.You even answer your phone "moshi moshi."While the number of anime videos you've seen is way higher than the number of dates you've been on, there's hope.Play the sexy, mysterous gaijin, and you'll have plenty of Japanese meat.

Your Observation Skills Get D+

You know that you remembered to put on underwear today...But really, that's about it!

no strings attached makeba

someone told me malaika was sung by some obscure arusha band

but that voluptious meandering voice of makeba
the balmy smooth soot
fingertiptoes
can feel it run on my neck
this is it
an orange crescent spread eagled ████peach schanpps ████malaika
hmmmm


malaika████████ nakupenda malaika/

april 2006 and words dont come anymore
this is it.
dint even pfaff.
so i had it coming.
stared at the paper.
langoriuosly spent 2 hours on mean median mode and a pie diagram.
wrote 2 half answers.
and stopped writing.
just stopped.

am going to fail and i dont seem to care.
something has to be done
i cant write.
i cant write.
i cant write.

fucked up FC
now i am failing research
and MA WONT BELIEVE IT!!!!

a seeded apple making its way into empty rhetoric twice removed from cubist painting. and all i can think of is swirling cds that dream of stealing rainbows from oil spills.
seven menacing fingertips that can heave and heave but not type two sentences coherent!

trip[];'

trip.>;

trip;':
tuning a radio that jingles statics and jangles and aaahs and squeals. watermarks that you can see through the paper held at light twice stolen from the fireflies. the sky is torn tissue paper my brain is chewingum and i want to type things like 'gather me in your fingertips'

Fish die belly-upward and rise to the surface;

it is their way of falling

Andre Gide

16 OUT OF 40

okay... so i just found out that i 7flunked8 my AV project

they dint even grace me so i'd pass...

<--- one of the stills

RED PIGEON (or was it RED PIGEONS)

of late i have been allergic to wood.
yesterday walking along VT i saw this building under construction with gunny bags covering the scaffolds
the installation looked like my allergy.
i will try to click it next time i pass by.
nice dyptich it'll make
:p

theres this really strange place near my house.

half eaten houses with cars parked outside
gaaaaaaaa
there are trees growing in them
herenthere
theres the sea behind it

equus

las night i was touched
sitting on his swing some four years back david asked us to read equus
i watched equus las night

the las time i was touched by a film was when i heard
aamtolay zamur zumur kolatolay biya
in ghatak's komol gandhar.
jokhon shomudro brishtir ondhokare bhoy korechhilo, tokhon ami or buke matha lukiye chhilam maa bhebhe, tokhon jemon legechhilo

then, there was resnais' hiroshima mon amour
the madness that comes over like intellegence
it was that.
when i understand for a moment everything, and all is whole.

love.
the two uu together in equus makes me want to cry and i dont know why

intellegence comes over like a wave of madness and then I understand everything
its complete and then it scatters and I cant understand anymore

a cow a hard chewinggum deadbedbug allergies
now what?

but then i have many tellings to story