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city life : blood and concrete

click for a larger image . I insist ...

come look into my eyes

bleeding heart

The Babbling Brook : 5

Chess has this in common with making poetry, that the desire for it comes upon the amateur in gusts.

-A. A. Milne

First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then you win

-M.K Gandhi

The Babbling Brook : 3

How unfair. Among other things, I put 7 pairs of socks in the washing machine. After the wash cycle, I move whatever is in the washing machine to the dryer. Now I have 2 matched pairs and 1 unmatched triplet. Maybe I should consult the psychic hotline. Or should I report this to the Ministry for Unexplained Muggle Magic ... ?

The Babbling Brook : 2

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

excerpted from "Little Gidding" by T. S. Eliot

The Babbling Brook

babbles, and having babbled ....

life

is an endorphin-addiction gone out of hand

I think

the greatest tragedy would be a consciousness impeded

ponderoo

"I have heard that there are two kinds of welders: production welders, who don't like tricky setups and enjoy doing the same thing over and over again; and maintenance welders, who hate it when they have to do the same job twice. The advice was that if you hire a welder make sure which kind he is, because they’re not interchangeable"

Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

same family

traffic

so many people have come and gone. so many bloggers have closed and moved on

oyester garden

the solitary arms of the sky

prisoner

windy day

the third eye

a heart of summer

silent bricks

what Cyclops saw ..

clutter

cyclop b&w

B.A

prefixed by a number means 'Before Aku'
What do you mean ? don't you watch any television ?
Also, our good friend Jack has a timeline reading of 25 B.A.
No doubt that indicates a rather old specimen, looking at the time this is being written in. Now you tell Jack that. And prepare to be surprised. You'd be expecting some kind of fossil, no doubt. But indeed, do prepare to be surprised. For, this time, the age is in the reading and not the specimen. He is still young, his straw hat sits on jet-black hair, nary a grey strand, and his long white robes hang easily on a robust frame.
The blade of his sacred sword is sharper than ever, and so is his pursuit.
Polite, as usual. If you'd have any information you'd like to share about that nefarious shape-changing demon Aku, you have ocassion to put it to good use. Better yet would be to follow our intrepid hero in his quest. Needless to say, perils await, for you see, Aku rules the land as far as the mind can comprehend, sad to say, ( this includes the planets beyond the usual textbook-nine-and-oh-just-discovered-poseidon, if you please ). And Aku has put a price on our hero's head. Just the head. So the millions of the minions, some of them fully machine, all of them armed, will be sweeping the roads and shops and public houses in search of you two. There are check-points on the way. And should the shooting start, I'd advise you to stay just outside the screen until the noise dies down. The clip-clop of wooden clogs would be the all-clear. That would be Jack looking for you after he has dealt with the horde in his own sure way.
I'm told the lands between the cities are beautiful. Aku's armies drive the people to cities to slave in the factories, producing crates and crates of stuff to keep the empire running, not unlike ants. And the cities crowded and polluted and dirtier than the shirt of a coal-boy in the early industrial era. This has kept the lands in between the cities empty of people (mostly) and the noisy clanking traffic is limited to the intercity roadways. Stay away from them and you'll see the lands as the they were before the Cruel Disturbances . Barring a bandit or two, or some wild foraging beast, the trips are peaceful. The sunsets are usually orange beyond the first Hub city. The wind whispers among the long reedy leaves and soothes, and nights under the starry sky are always refreshing. You might want to borrow my copy of 'The wind in the willows' for the trip .

it's been all good

He stands smiling a permanent smile. Smiling at everyone,as if to say "Today's my day. No one is going to take it away from me". There are flowers on the table. Sunshine throught the glass windows. The office looks brighter, airier,roomier. Like it's put on it's best for him. Someone's talking but he's not listening to the speech. He's living in it. He looks at the gift-wrapped package in his hands. Almost stops smiling. The young ones are excited but quiet. Trying to find some way to participate. They don't have the years, but they'll have big words at the post lunch speech. They'll be right moved. He looks at them, smiles at the grandstanding. He's been there. The older ones are quieter. Some words cut across the year old layers of hypocrisy,pretense and politics. They mean it.They feel it. They know. Some of them are next. All of them are his friends now. For one glorious moment,they're all dearer to him than family.
In a short while, everyone would be back at their desks. His exit would be forgotten. And his time would be done. Forever.
He smiles at the word. It has been his companion for many sleepless nights. A tormentor in the beginning. An uneasy truce later on. Denial every now and then. Resignation, for quite a while. Its familiarity is almost comforting. He still doesn't feel the impact of it though. And wonders when he will ...
He wonders how long it would take for them to get someone else at his desk.
He walks past the front desk. The receptionist wishes him luck as he turns his ID in. He smiles. Hesitates whether to tell her that she is beautiful, like he always wanted to but never did.
He walks past the gates. He's still smiling, but something inside him is gone. He smilingly hopes he never ever remembers what the inside of the building or the people inside looked like.
"It's been all good", he says to himself. But his voice is far away. And his lip trembles

one more

the new traveler

the new Indian

these videos are AWESOME ( somebody tell Vicky )

the first one

MC Vikram and Ludakrishna's second one, I think. Inspired. Only a mallu ...

I got a

 




blank call. I wonder if it was for me

it's easier

to do without than to see what you're missing ...

the roamer's chant

past those nights

and through the days

into the new year's dawn


it's been a long ride

the days have been a blur

and the distances large


but now we rest, lest the memories of the year get hazy

take time for retrospection

pay some dues

sneak in a couple of prayers

some stillness, introspection


and we will be on our way

for new lands always beckon

and home is just beyond the next ridge

and the skies forever smile on the wanderer


So stay warm. and loved. and keep riding, my friend


A Happy New Year to you !!!