31 January, 2008

Graduation Minima

I don't really want to go to Xavier's tomorrow. But something just tells me I ought to. Perhaps that's because of friends. Somehow, as I've said before, there's no great feeling of epiphany or anything. Just things to be done, and thoughts of the many things undone. And memories that I never knew I remembered, locked up in dusty cupboards like silverware, to be brought out glowing at the right moment.
And grief and joy seem to fuse, and what is left is a sardonic half-smile reflecting the others around me. For either one says too little, or stays silent.

Fact: I'm leaving the not-exactly-un-beloved institution that has been sheltering our delinquent batch (with veritable apocalyptic tendencies, and I believe I speak for all of us) from the cold censorship of the outside world.

Fact no. two: Yes, there will be alumni meetings (after all, ALSOC is pretty much the thing in town) but there are some things that always wilt and fade, like flowers brought in from the wild.


That brings me to our beloved Alumnorum Societas. The ruddy folks in there (fossils who passed out in '62, for pete's sake) time it such that there is a sudden flurry for kerchiefs!
Our official farewell's on the 8th . By the time it's done it'll be evening, the soft caress of the shadows on the school grounds, a few stars bearing mute witness to the stage of many a Xaverian (mis)deed.
And there, at the edge of the field, we shall release balloons (yeah, I know, they couldn't think of anything better) into the darkening sky.
Gloaming...
Always brings to my mind images of a warm hearth welcoming the home comer, like Hobbiton maybe. Of swords that are then sheathed and hung over the mantelpiece.

Well, my dad still gets to have free dinners at the Hindi High (BHS) alumni. I suppose there are perks, after all.

19 January, 2008

Ode to Cafe-glimpses

With Park Street and it's numerous cafes quite close by, poetic inspiration is very easy. BUt not always in the usual dreary and reflecting way that seems to characterise my previous poems. In this, I've tried to break away from the gloom and philosophy to a rather commonplace and universal pastime - staring at girls.

Here goes, my not-so-holy thoughts released at last:



For a Cafe-girl
I
"Muted hubbub inside private cocoons -
Social mores of a cafe-bred lot.
Her scarf was in shades of maroons:
That bit at least he never forgot -
Dark shape in dark corner, out of view
With staring eyes that glared at you.

Cafe-girl, cafe-girl, whatevr made you
Look so damned beautiful that day?
You bounced in, I stared, and time just flew...
With you believe me, it'd have been all way
Right up the garden path, braving briar and nettle
Waiting for the froth on the frappe to settle.

II
I kept an eye out throughout the seasons
Of my life, and now it's winter time;
Night washes away my thoughts and reasons
But not you, Cafe-girl forever mine,
In dreams and the wafting smell of dusk
Borne on the wings of the evening breeze...
Of that one glimpse...your maddening musk:
From this grey shroud, a sensory release.

I'm the Knight in shining armour - where are you?
Do your eyes still glisten, luscent in the shade,
The steady gaze - balm for scorched souls, as I then knew?
Then again, maybe, my heart overlaid
The bread and the butter with a layer of honey-
Intricate fancies that now almost seem funny. "

III
"I caught a man today, staring at me -
Searching, seeking...beseeching, as if he
Was my lover, long ago in some distant realm
Of castles and quests and shady copses of elm...
There are now creases around my eyes
Lord, one has to wonder at how the time flies!
Thinking of a cafe, oh decades ago!
The images coming back, vague and slow;
A touch of colour on the pavements so grey
The final flourish at the end of my day..."

-Soli Deo Gloria (to God alone the glory)

15 January, 2008

Morning dribbles



There's a most persevering sparrow chirping for all it's worth, somewhere out of my view. A bit of last year's chill seems to have forgotten to depart. I'm joining forces with the Sun to banish the last traces of residual clamminess.

The actual year won't start 'til May for me - be done with the Engineering Joints by then. And guess what - I'm already laying out elaborate plans for that glorious space. Involves a solo-trek in the Himalayan foothills, a photo-spree, a short film (however disastrous be it) in collaboration with some other Xaverians (oops, sorry, ex-Xaverians from then on). Yeah, day-dreaming is an art.

The selection exams are still on, but with the winter sun inducing Zen-like conditions of somnolence, I cannot resist the temptation to laze about. Let's forget about today until tomorrow...

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