Friday, October 10, 2014

Girl of Small Things

Much has happened since i last wrote here. Too much, not because I am so very exciting but because it had been that long.No one reads this anymore. So this is more in the nature of a reminder to self.

Raul (the man i married). in the tradition of thi sblog i have renamed him. Wolf it means. Though he' isn't too wolf like. If you read the last few posts you will see bits of him in all i write so i shall not introduce him further.
The only reason i had to bring him up is because this post is born from an idea that he came up with.
Quite simple. That i list what i read. So that many many years down the line i can study how i much i read in which period of my life, how my tastes evolved (or didn't), etc.
This doesn't appeal to me. What does, is remembering beautiful lines and images and ideas from books i'm reading. i find that even if a book doesn't stay with you or move you, it almost always has a word or an image that is beautiful.

So i want to list my books by the disco light feeling that it gave me in my heart even if it was just a words worth :)

I'm going to begin from here on but to appease Raul, just listing the books of the last month.

1. The Thing Around Your Neck - Chimamanda Adichie
2. Sputnik Sweetheart - Murakami
3. Wonder - Palacio
4. The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Gaiman
5. The brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao - Diaz
6. A history of teh world in 10 1/2 chapters - barnes

I like the image of 'wordscrapers', 'above you blazing was a sky rented from Universal', 'she grasped on the way blood seizes cotton',.

From here on i will give exact quotes and name the book and author. Hopefully that makes you pick up the book.


Sunday, August 12, 2012

Uncertain Value


I lie down beside him and he touches his lips to mine. He isn’t above kissing me but he wants to be kinder to me than a mere kiss. He whooshes breath into me like a man pumping a balloon and I begin to float, to blimp up and fly around the room.

I’m not in control of myself. I just flap around and wait for his life to drain out of me. Once I am filled with just my breath I’ll come down to earth. 

Friday, October 21, 2011

Spiraling

Into love
Into isolation
Into being
A moody song

I cannot bear.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Now I’m awake
And it’s too late,
Now I’m awake
And the night is gone.
There was noise in the night
And I needed you to make it
Whisper,
Crooning sounds;
Holding my mind down,
But now I’m awake
And you’re too late.
I couldn't hear 
the kaliedoscope speak,
It jangled and hummed,
But I wasn't in me.
Scared of beauty, words;
These erstwhile friends,
I fell asleep, 
and so the night ends.





Monday, August 02, 2010

City Man

Man, you fool.
You go away and leave me,
you come back and need me.
Your morning smile from my voice,
your sleeping sigh on my thighs.
Still you go, you fool,
my man.

Man, you fool.
You forget me now,
like a song that comes only with rain,
but it will thunder again
and you'll sing it from your heart.
Yet you soak the sun, you fool,
my man.

You love and love,
I do not know how
With the simplicity of breath,
And the inevitability of living,
Just love and no pause,
You're all heart, you fool,
my man.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Cleaner

Rip goes the photo of my 
tear blotched sari,
Whooshing out is my guilty ache,
My mother kills herself
but never dies
I absolutely deny all blame.
Blood turned into muddy brown
Now it's blooming red,
The cobbler stitched up my torn shoe
And so my toe puffs out his chest.
My child has no home
she keeps running away
from all the things that live in it
the broken, the weak and the lame
Now she's gone forever away
She'll come back yet
You're here 
and the junk is withering away.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Commitment

Things don’t always tie in neatly and nor should words.
They should be fragmented,
discordant,
sta.cca.to,
fluid like neraids wearing flowing green silk doing the backstroke,
hollow,
empty,
leaping off
the page in
pogo-sticked
exuberance
shouting their mad joy
SMACK
in the reader’s unsuspecting face,
intimate as the nook in your lover’s neck where he smells the gentlest,
turbulent like the blood in your heart,
constant like you.
They should be what you are, who you are, where you are, how you are. When you give up on them, they give up on you.
How can you?