Category Archives: dreamer

The English Pupil

Time flies. Staying at home for extended periods of time when I was unwell I could feel the passage of seasons, days going by excruciating slowly, each day with its own set of struggles and now I cannot believe such a large chunk of time has passed. The descent of time?

Ship Fever by Andrea Barrett is a collection of short stories, which I wanted to reread as soon as I finished the book and it has taken me nearly two years to do it. I bought The Voyage of Narwhal immediately after finishing Ship Fever, and recently The Air We Breathe has come into my possession but I still haven’t read them. What am I scared of  – her not meeting my exceeded expectations or idiotically trying to collect all her other books (very hard to find in India) while not reading the ones I do have. Life is too short to wait for a complete collection. You read along and hope for the best.

In The English Pupil Linnaeus is nostalgic for the past and remembers his apostles (read pupils), who went about the world carrying forward his legacy, sending him specimens and discovering new species. All of his apostles are dead, and he’s inching closer towards his own.

Linnaeus and his wife remind me of an old couple, who are in the autumn of their lives and are not at peace with it or with each other. (What is the point of companionship then?) His wife doesn’t care about his work or his legacy. His work fulfilled him but didn’t make him rich. The family’s demands weren’t being met and to her that was what mattered the most. She was the pragmatic sort. A dreamer has to be paired with a realist. It is a question of survival, you see.

Continue reading The English Pupil

Advertisements

Rains Ridiculous

Like a typical Aries one day I was returning after experiencing something practically life altering (to someone else it would be lunacy not path breaking), I decided to take a chance and get wet in the rain. My God it was a scary experience. So much for new experiences. It’s completely so not true what they show in movies. It’s the opposite. And highly impractical might I add.

It was humid, the clouds were mongering and I was waiting the bus for what seemed like an eternity. I was so busy writing I missed two buses. I people watched when I felt tired and fatigued. Man watching is the term. Finally got on one when I waved my hands madly and the bus that was moving away screeched to a halt.

Getting wet in the rains is overrated. (God help me if I am ever stuck in the Mumbai rains.) You soil your clothes and shoes which take forever to dry if you live in a humid place like I do. It ain’t Delhi my mind said. Cleaning them is a task, and then there is the imminent threat of a raging cold. I felt nothing but tedious. Where was the magic I wondered, when I was dragging myself through the roads.

Rainy season is the least favourite of the seasons though I love the accompaniments – clouds being formed, the colour of skies darkening and the streaks of lightning, sudden and unexpected. The dreamer in me cannot ever reconcile with the realist that shows up from time to time.

I will never say rain demands to be felt. Big fat drops hitting you with all their might making the short stretch leading home seem like an long endless road. Shudder! Continue reading Rains Ridiculous

Upagupta

 

  Upagupta, the disciple of Buddha, lay sleep in
the dust by the city wall of Mathura.
Lamps were all out, doors were all shut, and
stars were all hidden by the murky sky of August.
Whose feet were those tinkling with anklets,
touching his breast of a sudden?
He woke up startled, and a light from a woman’s
lamp fell on his forgiving eyes.
It was dancing girl, starred with jewels,
Wearing a pale blue mantle, drunk with the wine
of her youth.
She lowered her lamp and saw young face
austerely beautiful.
“Forgive me, young ascetic,” said the woman,
“Graciously come to my house. The dusty earth
is not fit bed for you.”
The young ascetic answered, “Woman,
go on your way;
When the time is ripe I will come to you.”
Suddenly the black night showed its teeth
in a flash of lightening.
The storm growled from the corner of the sky, and
The woman trembled in fear of some unknown danger.
* * *
A year has not yet passed.
It was evening of a day in April,
in spring season.
The branches of the way side trees were full of blossom.
Gay notes of a flute came floating in the
warm spring air from a far.
The citizens had gone to the woods for the
festival of flowers.
From the mid sky gazed the full moon on the
shadows of the silent town.
The young ascetic was walking along the lonely street,
While overhead the love-sick koels uttered from the
mango branches their sleepless plaint.
Upagupta passed through the city gates, and
stood at the base of the rampart.
Was that a woman lying at his feet in the
shadow of the mango grove?
Stuck with black prestilence, her body
spotted with sores of small-pox,
She had been hurriedly removed from the town
To avoid her poisonous contagion.
The ascetic sat by her side, took her head
on his knees,
And moistened her lips with water, and
smeared her body with sandal balm.
“Who are you, merciful one?” asked the woman.
“The time, at last, has come to visit you, and
I am here,” replied the young ascetic.
Rabindranath Tagore
We had this poem in our English Literature syllabus. The well thumbed Wings of Poesy ,the  poetry book which contains the above poem still exists. I can’t help but go back to that time,to the naive thirteen year old with a million crazy ideas and romantic dreams of becoming a writer someday and living in the country. Whenever I read the poem I am transported back into school,sitting in my assigned seat in class, listening to the lilting voice of our teacher and taking notes when required. It’s as if nothing has changed but everything has changed,on the outside at least.

HARRY WHO??

Hello blog people 🙂
Uh umm I know it’s not very apt or polite.I dare say me even giving this a second thought, it’s her influence!!!!Otherwise who cares to be grammatically correct and use just the correct word for every little situation, duhh not me!Anyways what else should I address you guys as???Should it even be plural?
And who is this you ask?Pssst. It’s me her super cool sister 😀 She has mentioned me quite a few times ,so y’all should be familiar with me, I suppose(looks around expectantly for applause).Let’s get on,shall we…
An obvious observation-I dare say nobody reads her precious blog ,why else would it wear such a desolate look,eh? But the background is blue and its sparse and without frills.It’s her alright.”Keep it simple,silly!” ,for me she got there long before Ranbir Kapoor did (sorry RK).
Now to the topic.I can’t believe its Tuesday already.I can break out into a song and dance routine right now(totally spontaneous and unrehearsed but fab all the same =)). But I’d better not lest the fat cat wake up and raise hell!!Lately I have taken to calling her troll and it irritates the shit out of her.Nowadays she’s being called MANTAL Boy(Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara anyone?).Evil laugh!!!
Three more days  till Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part-2 releases in cinemas.I can barely contain myself.No point in asking me if I’m a die hard HP fan cos there’s no doubt about that.I.AM.NOT.A FAN.But I don’t hate the books,they were good but nothing life changing.Maybe it might have been different for me if I had read it the way my sister did and not in the span of a couple of weeks.I just read it because all the guys in my class had read it(peer pressure I tell you,makes you do the stupidest of things)and the books were already there,courtesy my sister.
I just had to beg,borrow and convince her to part with her precious books.She was very suspicious at my sudden “interest” in HP and kept a close watch on me.She still thinks that I buy her “Oh I came to see which page you are at?Isn’t it exciting?Did you notice how … “And there she goes again,launching into an impossibly detailed and verbose explanation(without even being asked) ,speaking faster if it’s even humanly possible(she’s the fastest talker I know) and ending at a obvious point(according to her not me)which my  puny brain couldn’t possibly comprehend even if she had told it slowly and in a normal voice as opposed to the shrilly voice she shoots off in, eyes glinting with pleasure and something otherworldly.
She’s already gone mad.She spent all Sunday practically on Mugglenet and YouTube , reading up and listening to all the buzz, and watching interviews and the premiere with headphones on!!!!!I won’t even go near obsessive reading of Fanfics and other crazy stuff!
When I had been consoling myself that all the madness will be over with when the final movie is out ,J.K.Rowling had to go and bring out POTTERMORE(believe me I have heard enough).Now its like HP forever.She’s in 7th heaven and I’m plotting my escape by immersing myself in law.Yep,you heard right.I’m going to go to Law School!!!What can I say,desperate times call for weird solutions! Mama and Papa really indulge her (which obviously I don’t approve of ) and practically coo at her ,oh she’so adorable,their darling daughter ,reading so many books that she forgets that there exists a world outside of it (where’s there’s no magic but beauty still abounds)and living in a fantasy dream world which runs according to her rules and diktats.Where magic is a reality!!!And whenever she’s in the so called real world ,something inevitably goes wrong and she goes flying back into the escape and comfort her world offers from the grim reality she can’t stomach.
Gimme a break!!Grow up kiddo and grow your own wings to fly.
Earth to sis,the real world is waiting with arms wide open to envelope you in a bone-crushing hug.You have to give it a chance…