Eating, reading, writing, waiting, watching, exploring.
If you're happy, stay away. You're boring.
I have never felt more fulfilling in college than I did today while doing the aarti. Gentle reminder that in spite of all of our differences, we can come together to submit to a being higher than all of us.
Happy Ganesh Chaturthi.
The dark clouds gathering in the evening sky,
Remind me that it's time to go.
I have passed an hour of my borrowed time,
Sharing the dying sunlight with a friend. So low
I feel, chasing my borrowed dreams and Crunching deadlines, and faking love to a life
I do not feel like living a second longer.
But, if living a second longer means that the sun
Will stay up for a second more --the evening tea
We call for will be stronger
Than the drinks we nurse ourselves with
at night when we cannot but forcibly sleep
Because we have forgotten what it was
That we wanted from our lives (living a deep,
Dark, twisted and planned nightmare- turned-reality) -- I am willing to trade
this whole life
For just a second of forgotten happiness;
To feel again what it felt like to not care,
Not frown, or fret, or cry, or try anything at all.
This fading daylight -- a sign of our faithlessness,
Makes my friend fervent with drunk passion.
He cries out, "I can't take this anymore.
Tomorrow, I'll resign. The day after, I'll run away
From this godforsaken place, and be a famous pirate somewhere unknown.
You know, I'd rather die before
I have to return to my desk-job again!" I wish him luck, for I know we both
Have doused that raging fire within us
Long before. We have accepted whatever
Fate has thrown our way, and have learnt to
Lick her boots, and be grateful, and rush
To please her every morning as soon as we wake up.
Maybe these clouds are a sign of changing times.
Maybe there will be rain.
Maybe there'll be a flood, washing everything we know
All away, telling us there is still time to go back
To where we were, and start our lives all over again.
, Sunset in Omotesando, Tokyo. Source: Tumblr
Oh God, hear out the wails,
disguised as a prayer,
of a sinner who seeks redemption
from nothing in particular, but life.
The crimson arches of your abode
remind me of the necessary blood
on my hands, as I try to persuade
my honest intentions
from not killing you.
Today I forgive all those sinners
who have made your walls redder
than my heart ever was, or my face
will be, when I am forced to shame.
Today I let go of all those infidels
who light incense at your feet every day,
hoping that the aroma of the myrrh
will put on a blanket on their forgiven sins.
Tell me how to purchase
your grace. How much have they paid
to make your walls so high
that we would but give up
before we can feel the silhouette
of your presence? Who are they
to make us penance for their borrowed sins?
Are you crying God? Can you listen
to the waves of disappointment
surging within our empty hearts?
Or are you just faking sympathy,
nodding your head, 'I understand',
and shedding a fake tear or two,
like your beloved believers, who
scurry away from your downpour,
in search of safe haven?
Their white umbrellas are good enough
to shield their blackened hearts --
It is we who need your deliverance.
Trust them just a bit longer, my Lord, until they trade you to crown themselves. (Photo: Rain at Kasuga Shrine, Hasui Kawase (1883 - 1957))
Of Abandonment/The Japanese Dido
Teach me how to wait for you,
So that every time I look at the sea
and see the silhouette of an unmoored ship,
I hope that you'll come back to me,
and not forsake me --
Like you did before.
Teach me how to love you less,
So that every evening I don't rush
To light my dimming lantern,
Hoping that the big, dark cosmos cannot
Conspire and defeat me
From illuminating your heart,
When you land on this lonely shore.
Teach me how to bring respite
To my restless soul, for I cannot live
Holding on to a furtive dream
of seeing you moor at my shore -- Hearing your husky voice again.
Teach me how to stop sacrificing entrails
In pursuit of a blessing I might never twice receive.
Tell me, what can I do
so that you'll fall for me,
All over again?
Should I set this wooden deck I'm standing on alight,
so that this aisle for our love becomes the pyre for its death?
Photo: The silhouette of a courtesan looking out over the sea (c. 1910). Koson Ohora (1877-1945). Japan.
"Non-violence is the first article of my faith. It is also the last article of my creed." Gandhi's historic trial speech post Chauri Chaura, 1922.
Taking up the role of the protagonist -- a person as simple in real life and as complex in character as Gandhi, was a challenging one. Probably the most challenging role I've (successfully) pulled off on stage.
"And they didn't even need a divider"
From the historical archives: Photo of M.K. Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru before the Shimla Conference. 1945. Colourised.
Veteran photographer @shreyakumaria
behind the lens to capture this historic moment.
Only good at making points, not scoring them😅
Getting into character?
It's been a week now and I still can't get over the exhilaration of returning to the stage. More plays on the way? Probably.
But someone stop the music and the songs from the play playing inside my head. It's been a week now. Withdrawal symptoms game as strong as the surma underneath my eyes😂
"Shamsheer-e-khuda hai nahi inko koi andaaza,
Dikha denge kaafir ko jahannum ka darwaza.
Yahi hai waqt ki aajtak ki zillat ka
Aaj bhuktenge zaalim khamiyaza." Maligned and hated, Pakistan has always been in a state of mistrust and bottled up emotions which often come out as idiotic rage and vanity towards India.
Here's to returning to the stage after two years, to being the personification of Pakistan and showcasing Pakistan's point of view on Kargil.
My first play in college, and hopefully not the last(?) Much love to my fellow cast members for making this play so memorable and to everyone who loved our performance.
The Forbidden Forest maybe?
Looking up to the clouds for inspiration taken to a whole new literal level.
My motherland looks so beautiful from Nepal ❤
I wish customs worldwide were as cool as Indo-Nepal.
The creaking wood of dilapidated houses stand tall to protest against the bulldozing of concrete walls.
Near the Clock Tower.
"Just beyond the sunset
Someone waits for me
Just beyond the sunset
Lies my destiny
Where the purple mountains
Lie in deep tranquillity
There I’ll find the treasure
Of love eternally." -- David Harris, Just beyond the sunset
Vincent van Gogh, Constantine and Monet would all have looked at Mother Nature and said, "Thank you for being my model!" Higher and beyond.
We don't believe in posh cafeterias if it doesn't call for inclusion at all levels. Look around and you'll find college people joking with their professors, amateur musicians and singers performing for a small audience not for money but for the fun ot it, writers, journalists and intellectuals laughing their worries away, lovers teasing each other and bookworms devouring into books and forgetting about their untouched coffee.
Time stops here, as if even Time has had grown tired of running all day and stopped by for a break, maybe a joke and a cuppa coffee.
This place embodies the spirit of Kolkata. ❤
#indiancoffeehouse #kolkata #kolkatadiaries #kolkatacoffeehouse
I don't know what was the best thing about the evening : College Street, Coffee House, Nandan or you.
Excelsior ft. Always