What-say, dude?

Here follows some non-sequitur babble...

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I am not your experimental reader. I am skeptical. If you recommend a book to me , I would probably spend hours on the internet researching it, getting acquainted with the author, and only when it passes my-stuck-up muster, I decide to read it. Sometimes I over-estimate my reading capabilities and purchase books like 'The Great Indian Novel' which sit pretty on the shelf gathering glances. Sometimes I am gifted books I can't bring myself to peruse like 'Brida'.

So, one fine day, I decided to put an end to this uptight behavior because (a) I was reading faster than money could buy (b) Gifts should be honored. Anyways, I was going to spend a total of 60 hours over a week on a train or waiting for it, I thought I would just carry one reading material called 'Brida' and lack of options would make me read it. Sigh! Brida is still chaste.

The moral of the story is - If you can't read a Paul Coelho, you can't.

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I have a desire to see a revolution which is not related to technology. Who cares what iphone is coming next? Earlier, I thought if I had a time machine, I would go to 1940s and witness Indian freedom struggle. Now, I think going to 1960s would be bitchen, boy!

Ironically, one will have to bear another technological revolution of time machine being invented to do that.

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And on a parting note, always remember this, it is never too late to fall in love with Yeats.

In absence of zariwala aasmaan(it's so damn hot already), I present you with my favorite Yeats poem:

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with the golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams...

Come onto us in June

Dear Miss

We hired you on contract basis
Till it’s over, you are ours to own
You are our annual stripper
You do strip to your very bone
But this year we have a complaint
So heed it well, don’t disdain
We feel you are being malicious
You are shedding clothes too fast
Though we need your body delicious
We do want the process to last
Spring has just arrived here
And you have already gotten bare
So dear scorching scalding Sun
Save yourself for summer fun
Hold onto that flowery blouse
For we aren’t yet fully roused

On behalf of multitudes
(who can wait to see you nude)
Sincerely yours
Hopscotch

Dental Hygiene

Susie dreams.

She is attending her ex-boyfriend’s wedding, and he is getting married to her best friend. She is neither happy nor angry. She is hungry and is wondering whether it’s polite to eat even before wishing the bride and groom. Then she is wondering whether she has forgiven too easily, too early. Then she is wandering in this huge expanse of the wedding venue, lit up, crowded, with children running around as if it is a football field. She wants to catch the eye of the groom and give him one of her I-am-getting-bored-looks but he is busy shaking hands. She wants to catch the eye of the bride and give her one of her Why-was-I-even-invited looks but she is busy accepting cash-stuffed envelopes. Attention deficit, Susie decides it is a good time to throw a tantrum. She climbs up five steps to reach the stage and declares, “I am so bored. I am leaving.” Bride says, “No, we haven’t clicked photos with you yet.” Groom says, “No, you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Susie says, “But I can’t eat, I haven’t yet brushed my teeth.”

Susie wakes up. It is ten o’clock on a Thursday morning. She has over slept. She must be starving in her sleep… yet she didn’t eat with an unclean mouth. She is so proud of herself. And so amazed at how a little bit of reality always creeps in the best of dreams and the worst of nightmares.