Pinku-Enchanted Life

I came to this city with a lot of emotional baggage and a hope to be let alone, to live my life the way I want to. I am leaving it with many a fond memory and the realization that real freedom is within our own soul. I have tried to capture the mood of this city in my camera and my mind and though the later are only mine to savor the former are here for you to share in.

I dream of things past, things that are yet to happen. Even things that can never happen like my father speaking to grown up me since he died when I had just turned sixteen. My dreams are vivid, life like at times more real than my real life. I cry, laugh and get angry in my dreams. I make friends, seduce people, fight, quarrel and makeup. At times I find I am swimming, though in real life I don’t know how to, it doesn’t seem to frighten me. Of late my dreams have been very disturbing; I have been part of activities which have made me feel ashamed of myself, even guilty of crimes unknown. I have seen myself trying to sexually please people with whom I don’t have a sexual relation. I have a feeling that I am trying to undo a wrong, pay a penalty perhaps. I don’t want to feel this way. I think I know what is happening, the subconscious part of me which wants to go back to being the ‘good girl’ of everyone’s aspiration is hitting out in the only realm it can. That of my dreams for in my a...

The bird’s eye view showed a huge plain dotted with green and picturesque cottages set amidst palm groves, the hills however were nowhere in sight. As we swooped down to land at Coimbatore airport, I was surprised to find that ours was the only aircraft, quite an unusual sight from other airports which seem choc-a-bloc at all times of the day or night. That however was not the only surprise waiting for me, once off the plane I looked around to see where the bus was only to find fellow passengers walking to the airport building, I followed suit thoroughly pleased with the idea of being able to walk across an airport. A four hour journey by a rickety bus playing Tamil films found us moving through urban landscapes to rural to foothills and then finally an abundance of tea gardens. Finally the hills what a relief! The bus made frequent stops to pick up and drop travelers and at one such stop I witnessed the art of wearing a sari south Indian style. A middle aged lady traveling with a you...

Mom always the rational voice had a great theory, walk into the battlefield of love by all means but don’t jump in without preparation. Ensure you know the ground realities, have done a count of the enemy forces and most important of all know and keep the retreat option ready. Involve yourself like a professional with the head not the heart. What it means is ensure the person on the other side is more smitten by you than you are. Belongs to the right social and economical background. Is good looking, well educated and has or atleast has the prospects of having a substantial bank balance in times to come. No, this doesn’t mean that mom was heartless just practical. ‘After all it’s the question of your entire life or atleast a good chunk of it, so why take chances?’ is what she asked time and again I found her rationale very, very irrational. Love by its very definition is supposed to be all about the heart. No, not the biological heart which pumps blood, but that heart which is actually...

Sleepless nights mirthless days are here again again I ll hear false footsteps Count days backward forward and backward again again the pain will ebb and flow like it has scores of time before Those days are here again. The brief interlude when you are with me, when I glimpse at what life could be, should be, are gone and I am left holding my constant companions pain and memories memories which evoke more pain pain which makes the memories more bittersweet I go over what you said, I go over what we left unsaid the smile shared and food, music and silence remember yet again your face above, below and all round me giving meaning to things which had seemed mundane before I remember you gently rocking me to sleep I remember you gently pulling me from it into the enchanted world of your arms Briefly you turned this brick and mortar structure into a home its back again to its cold cruel self again we wait the house and me for you to breathe life into us the way only you can

Hi! My office has come up with a new funda whereby access to all blogs, gmails, orkuts of the world is blocked. Miraculously I can access my dashboard and upload stuff also see the comments but I cant go to the blog proper and therefore cant answer any of the comments. Please bear with me till I find a solution to this problem. In the meantime do leave behind your comments for I can see what you have said and one day soon will find the time and oppurtunity to answer those too. Cheers! Pinku

The small advertisement in the corner of the newspaper was nothing great and it was a wonder that it caught her eye as it did. Maybe this is called destiny. She was bored to death had counted sheep, tiger, cockroaches, read books, gone through the sleazy CD’s and yet the day dragged on and that’s when she saw the ad. It was for a beauty parlour that promoted massages as part of its services. It seemed an interesting thing to do and she dialed the number more out of a feeling of something to do than anything else. The phone was picked up on the other end almost on the first ring, quite some attendant she admired mentally. The woman on the other end answered all her queries very solicitously and before she knew she had fixed up for a masseur to come to her home. She kept the phone down feeling adventurous even if it was nothing great it would be the company of a human being for sometime and if the masseur was half as good as those back home she could look forward to some relaxation. God ...