23 March, 2010

random and lovin' it!

There and back again, a blogger's holiday. Hah!
We had a power-cut the other day, after ages. No inverter back-up either. Alone, momentarily blinded from the clutter of everyday. Escaping the stifling confines to the terrace, the far byepass-connector lights (inspiration for so many a blogpost!) glimmering like isles amidst a sea of noisome black.
 Tried calling an old, old friend. Thinking shamefacedly whether I'd be able to pay for an international call. No reply. A shameful relief smuggled itself into the general disappointment. And then my phone rang again. And we talked like in the old days of lives, loves, cabbages and kings. Maxims and credos strewn across like pearls on the beaches of Eldamar.
 The slumbering Tolkienian stirs within me, buried deep under landrover bot designs, programming assignments and bloody Carnot engines.
"From the ashes a fire shall be woken . . . "

16 March, 2010

evening. alone.

Sipping from a coffee mug at the end of the day,
Thinking of that oft' trodden way to say
That nothing much matters in this clamor and clatter,
And nothing great is handed to you on a platter.

The steps are too many for these fumbling feet -
I'd rather stumble to this my age-worn seat
And as my day wanes with the swiftest sigh
I'll sit and watch the burning ones pass me by.

wandering back

So yet again I'm musing at random. With no thought but the scraps of others' sayings. A few staves of ImmorTall's sound track. The part where the poor blob is finally covered in snowflakes. How each member of the family leaves ... one at a time. Never looking back. Also, never coming back to comfort the one's still remaining by the fallen alien.

For once i'm not writing to an imagined or hoped/longed-for audience. Not attempting to put in some oh-so-perceptive maxim about life, the universe or the lives of others. The cravings are still there - for fresh smiles, old school friends, chocolate and a life less ordinary. Blogs aren't like memories or old albums, they don't even fade away.
It is like warming my back against the glow of embers - this blog will echo on long after the voice is stilled. The surging aspirations of post-adolescence, teenage agnst, unvoiced longings, the sheltered know-it-all of high school, the glimmering of adulthood where suddenly there's no cushion to shield your rump from a fall. And now the empty corridors where none tread, the sudden wild rush through college. This blog has seen (and more often been) it all.

Kolkata is already sweltering. Amidst cheering on KKR and the reflective commuting to college i wonder how little i've really written, how few lives have i known and touched, how small were the horizons i yearned to cross.

A poignant walk.

Credits to Kazarelth for referring me some truly manic-depressive games. Superb taste there. xP

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