its like a parody, but NOT

This is exactly what I go through every freaking day in my office. The guy who is creating the Stop sign,for those loosers, just imagine me in his place. will you?

the bends in the branches

Sometimes, he would be seen standing under the rain, his eyes closed, still as a statue.

"Hey, Lui, What are you doing there?You'll get wet through",they would shout at him. And he would reply: "I'm listening to the rain, but it's hard, because there's so much noise!"

Other times, he would be mesmerised by a twisted tree, and look at it, he would twist his own neck one way and then the other, following the bends in the branches.

"Hey, Lui, do you want to become a plant as well? Is that why you stand rooted there?"

And he: "I'm listening to the leaves, but it's hard, because there's too much noise!"

But the thing Lui did most often and which he most enjoyed was to follow the lines and contours of the distant mountains, of the tree trunks, of the church steeples.

Well, you can imagine how much Lui wanted to go for a stroll in the woods.

excerpted from "Lui and the art of going down to the woods" by Guido Quarzo

love letter to my hometown

I was born within your sunny, warm walls 26 years ago and have lived in you for over most of my life. I think it is due time that I thank you, for I know that being enveloped in your surroundings has gently influenced who I am today. As a small child, I grew up eating chikkies and Indian gooseberries from your local shoppe. I walked barefoot in your dark black soil in the summers. I sailed ships made of paper in the tiny river, which flowed in front of our house when it rained. I still have a special place in my heart for both. 

You were my home for so many years; I lived next doors to the most amazing neighbors, that i spent half of my childhood in their home. You had the best school with the most interesting principal, it is in that school of yours I had the most memorable days of my life. 

You have the most beautiful temple, and how I miss visiting the temple each monday. Its funny when I look back now, we used to take turns to keep an eye on our shoes while others go pray. When I think of it now, my palms touching each other, eyes closed, praying in that very crowded temple , I had felt peace,harmony and a sense of belonging which  I have not felt in a long time. 

How can I not mention about the river Krishna which flows through you, on the banks of which I spent most of my childhood summer mornings, Oh how much joy it was to play in the river with my brothers and cousins, and to sit and stare at the sky with my feet in the water,warmth of sun on my back and crisp summer wind in my hair. 

HOLI, like I played in you, such fun, found nowhere. 

I must say you had quite a magical weather as the fall arrived, since your climate was warm, I never expected such a delightful treat from you. Every once in a while I would awaken to discover the gulmohar flowers fall to the cool wind you blew, and it just seemed that life was perfect.

That time when I tried my hand in poetry and held you responsible for my incapabalities reasoning 'how could poetry flow through one in such hot dry and dusty place?' But it is your memories, which are the most beautiful to me now. 

In you reside my roots, my parents, please hold them very tight. 

You are the place where I learned to ride a bike, met most of my best friends, and tasted the best pani puri's in the whole wide world.Those are the things I'll never forget.

Thank you for the memories and thank you for being my home for all those years. you always made me feel safe.

Love from one of yours,

Ashu

Siddhartha

These winter red holly berries are growing everywhere around our apartment,picked some when I went for a walk. Was not sure what to do with them, put them in a tiny vase. Kinda cute non?
I was so smitten when I read Siddhartha by Herman hesse, I walked one and half miles to buy all his other works(I walked, not because I did not know how to drive the damn car, but because I thought I was also on a path like siddhartha was in this story). Yeah, thats right.. I am a weak character, I become the characters from the book I am reading, I like the most horrible movies if the crowd I am watching with likes it....did I just get off on my narcissistic track here? okay. Siddhartha, Very taken by Hesse's writing, I walked to the Barnes and Nobles. 

That day I brought 'Demian', 'Steppen wolf' and 'The glass bead game' . I loved Demian and The glass bead game but could not relate to steppen wolf. Even though they say that 'The glass bead game' is his Magnum opus I disagree, I think Siddhartha is his best works ever. 

I challenge them to reconsider Siddhartha.

and when I challenge, the noble prize committee, they take it very seriously. okay we are getting a little distracted here again.

Coming back to Herman Hesse, I worshipped him so much, I read every book,article,essay he wrote.

Now about Siddhartha, about which I actually sat down to write about.

This book had a poetic,meditative effective on me. It would make richard bach and his seagull look like a cheap knock off any time of the week. It would not take more than a couple of hours to read this book, but it consumed more of my time, since I found myself stopping after each chapter, deeply thinking what just happened and how it related to me.

No matter how I try, I cannot describe the magical writing of herman hesse, here is some excerpt :

"By this river I want to stay,  thought Siddhartha, it is the same which I have crossed a long time ago on my way to the childlike people, a friendly ferryman had guided me then, he is the one I want to go to, starting out from his hut, my  path had led me at that time into a new life, which had now grown old and is dead - my present path, my present new life, shall also take its start there!

Tenderly, he looked into the rushing water, into the transparent green, into the crystal lines of its drawing,so rich in secrets. Bright pearls he saw rising from the deep, quite bubbles of air floating on the reflecting surface, the blue of the sky being depicted in it. With a thousand eyes, the river looked at him, with green ones,with white ones, with crystal ones, with sky-blue ones.

How did he love this water, how did it delight him, how grateful was he to it! In his heart he heard the voice talking, which was newly awaking, and it told him: Love this water! Stay near it! Learn from it! Oh yes, he wanted to learn from it, he wanted to listen to it. He who would understand this water and its secrets, so it seemed to him, would also understand many other things, many secrets, all secrets.

But out of all secrets of the river, he today only saw one, this one touched his soul. He saw: this water ran and ran, incessantly it ran, and was nevertheless always there, was always at all times the same and yet new in every moment! Great be he who would grasp this, understand this! He understood and grasped it not, only felt some idea of it stirring, a distant memory, divine voices."

You can read the e-book here.

Sun and the moon

If in case you were wondering where the hell is moon...come close .. the white dot in the picture above is the moon.
This is the parking of our new apartment, and that is not my car.
I took these pictures, all in the span of one hour, today evening after Tea. 

Did I use my phone today? Yes I did, I called Advait. He is Five today. The actual plan was to go meet him after work, but I had a very bad head ache because of the cold blah blah blah.

I met him when he was Two, and I was new to america, bored,badly homesick,desperately in need of a friend.one day when I went out for a walk, there he was toddling holding his mother's hand. He was very shy then and did not speak in sentences. We became friends instantly. His mother and I became instantly best friends,(but that is another story, and she deserves a post completely dedicated to her).

 Today is about advait. We (me and advait) went for walks then on,the only word we both understood in common was 'car'. His mother says I am the first person he went out with such friendliness (of course I am the fairy )

He calls (used to call) me ashwini maushi, but somewhere along the line maushi has been dropped. He reads story books to me when I go to his place(mind you people he cant read, he just holds the book in his hand and makes up his own story based on the pictures) and its very compulsory that I give attention to how the story is unwinding. 

As he will grow.. he will lose interest in his ashwini maushi, but guess what I will keep bribing him with gifts and be his favoritest maushi . Happy Birthday Advait! 

Yes we can

If you missed the presidential speech by obama today, you have my condolences.

It is 12:20 am wednesday november 2008. I am not in bed because i did not want to miss watching history happening. 

Obama, the elected president 08. yes we can. yes we can. yes we can.

He is, in a word, magnificent. Superb. Breathtaking. Dazzling. Brilliant. Stunning. Impossibly articulate. Deftly funny.

Okay. That's ten words. 

Mccain, palin and all there crappy ideas, he blowed them away. Blowed them away. Like an ostrich racing with some mindless, blind hens. 

He is presidential without trying. He has so much genuine class he didn't have to create any phony storefront. 

I am in awe of his composure, his poise and his extreme intelligence. 

He is perfect. A perfect genius.

I always found him appealing before, it's not like I am exaggerating about him now that he is the president. 

Of all the reasons above, I love him most for that killer smile. 

 

First Leaf

This marigold seedling picture was taken in my garden(by garden i mean 4 small containers in my patio) this spring, it did not live to flower though(which is a whole different story). I dreamed of decorating my front door with marigold garland but SIGH. Since my blog is new,and this is my first post I thought it would be appropriate to post this picture.

Here on this page, I want to document my life. why u ask ? 

It hurts me of my impermanence, at the passing of time. At the edge of all my joy is the creeping agony that it will pass.... no one will know what has passed through me, and even amazing, I don't know myself.

I will be interested to see how the feeding and watering of this blog  affects my life. 

So off to the garden for me-- but I will be coming back with dirt in my pockets( Shawshank Redemption)--I've started my tunnel to freedom and I'm digging everyday.