shamiana

Have we, as humans, reached the ugly end? Do we need a League of Shadows? Humans were not supposed to live this way.without dignity, without security,without compassion. Animals are better, indeed. They don't succumb to greed or mindless pleasures. I've never felt so nervous.helpless.utterly disconsolate.I seek answers within.For, the without is so bleak. I am ashamed to be a human being. We need to redefine humanity. A spineless species that loves to loathe and celebrate: everything. We are happy to update our Facebook statuses, read or write blogs, condemn violence in each n every form; with equal promptness, we  share our joy and  success. As I sit and write this the futility of this endeavor becomes palpably real. Yes, I am sad. Depressed. The next step for me is to crawl into a hole and die. But, if I die now it would be a luxury. I've everything I always wanted a great family, a good job, decent circle of friends.Still, there is a silence within and a shatterin

There goes the fleeting moment  Mocking me. There comes the night  Soft and stealthy  following me  Through the day Is the darkness that  keeps devouring  me. Guess I fear nothing now. Soon, life would  walk away shamelessly without me.

Reading JMG Le Clezio has been a revelation.It has been therapeutic too. It has helped me get over my Conrad fixation. Le Clezio takes further the journey that Conrad began. Somewhere on the way, Camus joins him and the reader is taken on an intense interrogation of the human mind. Dealing with anxiety of exploration and thrills of voyage. The tussle between nature and culture. Empty spaces fascinate both, Conrad and Le Clezio.  "There was nothing else on earth, nothing, no one.They were born of the desert, they could follow no other path. They said nothing. Wanted nothing. The wind swept over them, through them, as if there were no one on the dunes. They had been walking since the very crack of dawn without stopping, thirst and weariness hung over them like a lead weight. Their cracked lips and tongues hard and leathery. Hunger gnawed their insides. They couldn't have spoken. They had been as mute as the desert for so long, filled with the light of the sun burning d

No words can adequately carry the pain that I felt this morning. DNA Afterhrs said "Whitney, No more". How could she possibly go away? Wasn't she immortal? Her voice had that melodious quality which could haunt me for hours n hours. Never get bored listening to Whitney Houston. She was always there to buoy my spirits, to heal my jilted heart, to keep me from despair. She has indeed left the clichéd "void" in my heart and what better way to overcome grief than listen to Whitney again and again... It just takes "one moment" to make your life beautiful and worthwhile; one moment to end it all. Some however, make these moments count and transcend the boundaries of space and time. Whitney did and how! Rest in Peace, Whitney Houston Will always love you -Shamini

"I don't question our existence I just question our modern needs " - Garden, Pearl Jam A suggestion. Play that song as you clean your wardrobe. Helps immensely ! i just did that... Regular readers of this blog know that I am in the habit of throwing my clothes out of the window ! Coming back to the narrative, I found myself gaping at the variety of junk that had made its way into my cupboard. Well, there were a couple of saris "gifted" by relatives, kurtas which mocked my eating habits, a pair of jeans which seemed to have resurrected itself to laugh derisively at my dream of shedding those extra kilos. And alas ! skirts that remind me of my "single" status. They somehow never get along with the married me ! Then were t-shirts, shorts, track pants all suffering from an acute deficiency of vitamin D Anyway, the song playing in the background just pushed me do what I like doing best- give away stuff that I had not used in the last year or so. Strangely

T hey throng during weekends T hey laugh,click, and “ like ”. I wait and watch the time go by; Wait till the swamp shall devour me. Sad and still the waters hide the hideous face of Nature; Lonely, bare and withering I stand waiting for the Great Spirit To come crashing down on me. I glance at the mass that’s left Waiting to go down. The sore begins to fester and rot. Slow and agonizing water seeps into me. Time slips by. I cling, clutch, sink, and die.

Let us begin you and I As we write upon what has gone by And wonder if what is in store Would continue to be a bore? Let us muse you and I On theories which we stand by with thoughtless agitation vain to realize it was all in fact a game Let us then play you and I games with rules which we should abide by only to see that rules virtual or real are meant to be broken. Let us go back you and I To where we begin to say goodbye And promise to meet again So that the ordeal might start again Let us live you and I In a world where everyone would lie and yet continue to be honest and take life in earnest.

Have we bid adieu to the age of reading printed books ? Have we outgrown the excitement of buying books? Do good bargains continue to please us? Is our purchase of books based on their online reviews ? Are book fairs on their way down? Perhaps, unnervingly, I might answer these questions in the affirmative. My trip to Strand Book fair this year epitomizes the shift in the general trend from print culture to the digital culture, the shift in buying books at sales to online shopping for books and of course e-books that can be downloaded for free ! I have seen the sale of withdrawn books at the BCL attract more enthusiastic book lovers than the turnout at Strand this year. Strand Book Fair had always been a rejuvenating experience. The feverish run from station to the venue (mostly, Sunderbai Hall), the first step into the bewitching book world the cheer of a strandian serendipity (one was sure to find a long craved for book ! and long lost friends ), long queues, (Saturday afternoons w