Being fidel to the fiddle.

Dance, dance my heart petite
To the tunes of the jolly guitar
Dance all your pleasures away
And send them a-whirling afar

How come you're smiling still
After bidding them "so long"?
Wait, do I see the fellas again -
They're bringing The bliss along!

Jigar Muradabadi

i LOVE this shayar! Just look at this beauty:

ishq fana ka naam hai, ishq meiN zindagee na de
jalwa-e-aaftaab ban, zarre meiN roshni na de

shauq ko rehnuma bana jo ho chuka kabhi na de
aag dabi huyee nikaal aag bujhi huyee na de

tuJhko khuda ka waasta tu meri zindagee na de
jiski sehar bhee shaam ho uski siyaah shabi na de

And this sher from another ghazal:

uspe kare khuda rahem gardish-e-rozgaar meiN
apnee talaash choDkar jo hai talaasH-e-yaar meiN

Gladiolus

Thinking of gladioli.
The flowers, like a dairy-milk chocolate, can never be too common/boring to give/receive.
Roses might overawe you. or create unwelcome impressions!
Carnations or jarbera might be a bit too heavy for the wallet.
Orchids..um, you don't see them around that frequently.
So here they are..the gladioli to the rescue. The long stems, the babyskin-soft petals, the fresh colours instantly create a comfort zone around them.
And the name 'gladiolus' makes you think of it as a very nice roman person, who's glad to be with you and vice versa.
quite simple-hearted flowers, actually. just like in the sher by Daag Dehlavi:
tum na paaoge sada-dil muJhsa
jo tagahful ko bhi hayaa jaane

"you won't find a heart
more simple than mine
who thinks you are shy
when refused to be seen"

(Why am I reminded of Mr. Collins in 'Pride and Prejudice' here? :)) )

silence

She asks me how I were.
I just look at her -
and she knows the answer.
Could I really know how
the words fail us or
the glances pass us now?
should the confidences
the confessions
and the grievances
all be done away with now?
They were sweet
but they are past
I can now rely
only on a smile
a cheeky kiss
and silence awhile.

John Donne

Puts it pretty neatly when it comes to describing broken hearts.
Before yesternight, 'twas just mirror neurons that made me appreciate the poem maybe.
now.. :D
(Mono'll laugh like anything when I relate the story to her.) zaalim jamana!
ROTFL BTTBS: here goes Jonny in his "The Broken Heart":

He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour ;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come !
All other griefs allow a part
To other griefs, and ask themselves but some ;
They come to us, but us love draws ;
He swallows us and never chaws ;
By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.

If 'twere not so, what did become
Of my heart when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me.
If it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite ;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
But after one such love, can love no .

of leaps and false

Heart just leapt upriver like salmons. Went to the happiest times I had spent reading the maraaThee translation "Dennis chyaa goShTee" of the superlatively fantastic "Adventures of Dennis" by Victor Dragunsky. A cousin of mine had been gifted that book for his 7th-8th birthday, I guess. Being four years older and much fonder of reading than he was, I thought I could claim a greater right over it. Ah the inexperienced childish notions ! The bright-yellow-covered, hardbound, over-an-inch thick book was to be Ashish's most prized possession -especially because he could see that I wanted it so badly!
(Or maybe because it had the most convenient size to be grabbed and brought down onto an elder sister's head with a most perfect thud.)

Of course the mere appearance of the book, the titles of the chapter and then the contents would have made it the most beloved book of one's collection.
There was this little boy on the front cover , wearing a helmet and a warrior-like suit and sitting on an especially good-tempered elephant which carried a bunch of colourful balloons in its trunk.
As to the contents, which I no doubt succeeded in going through after much fighting and attempts of bribery and appeal to both the supreme courts [where the judge of my nation had sympathies towards him and vice versa], here they are:

http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/books/den/book.html

and THAT'S why I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOO happy!
My benevolent friend Kiran gave me the link to the full online text with illustrations!!!!!
She's the kindest, the bestest, the cutest pal in the world. [You mentioned something about taking us all out for dinner tonight, didn't you, Kiran?]


hmm. so after each leap, a fall is assigned. [As a one-liner goes: Damn Gravity! I voted for velcro.]
False falls of young fowls are not to be termed as fouls, are they?
So just a tiny ode.
"farewell, shy angel - my heart was never a token.
'twas a silent fortune cookie - meant to be broken."

aflatoxin

Aflatoxin - that's a secondary metabolic byproduct of two fungi species: Aspergillus flavus and aspergillus paraciticus. Got into news recently for mass food-poisoning of dogs in the USoA. belongs to a class of organic compound known as difuranocoumarins. damages liver. no antidote.

whoosh. sounds Ross-like "scientific jabbering". To think that there exist people who can make stuff like that interesting to read!

Anyway.The exercise was to test one's short-term memory. Actually there's been a great deal of research going on related to Alzheimer's disease currently. Reading all those things that could lead to a memory loss and finding that I 'fit into' them quite well, I did feel a strong need to check the memory status. (Especially because I've found my name-to-face-correlation ability, miniscule to begin with, has diminished to ground zero lately. Imagine not being able to recall the holy name of Johnny Depp! Lord, what is to become of us all!)

A few years ago, 'maharashtra times' featured a weekly column by a medical doctor, Dr. Ninad Parulekar. He sure had a great sense of humour - and could display it well. He once wrote about a fellow-MBBS student of his. This guy always ended up thinking that he's infected with all the diseases they were supposed to study for that particular semster - trying to convince the other students that he had ALL the symptoms thereof: mild headaches, running nose, joint-pains, mood fluctuations blah blah. Then came one term when the others heaved a sigh of relief. It was named 'gynecology and paediatrics.' :D

idoling away.

Listened to Sandeep Khare's albums "naamanzoor" and "mee gaato ek gaaNe".
Got high on 2 songs.
One goes:
"kiteek haLawe kiteek sundar kitee shahaaNe apule antar.."

The distance between us !It's so fragile. so beautiful. so wise..
You breeze in at the very place for me, after I've left!

[Bhupesh Bhaiya says: "tum log achchhe ho yaar. yahan Marathi mandal iklauti regional council hai jo apni notices kaa angreji translation deti hai saath mein. otherwise kisi anjaanee si script mein kuch likha hua dekh kar bahut kharaab, left-out sa lagta hai!"]
Thus the feeble attempt of translating those oh so beautiful lines.

I totally totally idolize this Sandeep guy. Funny how at first I thought him to be one of those people who think that they can sing just because no one has dared to tell them otherwise. True, his rough baritone needs some rubbing in on one's system. Afterwards? you dearly wish he had sung ALL his poems! Especially because he makes those words act out - no no - LIVE their meanings! Untrained, raw, carefree..delicious singing!
And I won' even start on his poetic skills. There should be some limit to prattling on and on, even if it's your own blog :D - esp when idling away is forbidden. (pre-final year syndrome!)

more later!



I Want to Spend the Rest of My Life Everywhere, With Everyone, One to One, Always, Forever, Now. --Autobiography of British artist Damien Hirst. Some name, eh?

fresh

new year. like it just as I used to like the smell of a new civics textbook ;) . a truly beautiful day. slight chill. bright sun! Good morningy feeling to the whole day. didn't know that cold could be cosy.
Had a bonfire at Archana ma'am's (2 apostrophes?) house yesternight. drywood fire is beautiful. simply lovable. especially the sparks those fly off if a slight breeze comes over, or you try to shake up the logs a bit. And yesterday one log rested on the top of the others in a leisurely manner. a bluish yellow wisp of a flame draped around it like a silk cloth.I couldn't take my eyes off it.The smoke smell's so intoxicating! perfumed my hands up for a while.
Wingies are cool. do not keep mentioning things like "this is the last xyz we're doing together."
saw LOTR-1 for 10 minutes and drooped off happily - as confidently predicted by self and others.