Monday, August 31, 2015

After that grand trip aka the Southern sojourn I find myself googling wonderful places to go to. Seeking the weirdest (read—cheapest, most frugal) means to get there. One can go to Bhutan by train, it seems. One more month to swipe.

I find myself struggling to stay at peace and centered. The home state is on the boil, discontent and furious under a veneer. Mandal cost our class one full year of college—how well I remember the frustration and anger of 1986-- this anger too shows signs of ballooning out of control. With private colleges/universities breeding like rabbits, and industrial growth/ jobs not keeping pace—plus the shutdown in the small scale sector across industries--this was bound to happen. Those who don’t study history are compelled to repeat it, etc etc.

Locally we have our own little drama unfolding with the case of the two sisters who are either very bitter (wicked too) or paranoid psychotics.

Plus the ugly stuff that is being broadcast on TV every day.  Is there any way to escape this ruckus?


How I long for the serenity of Arunachalam.  The rugged silence of my Ladakh.

Friday, August 21, 2015

A fifteen day trip rushing across four states of the South, cutting across miles in an arc.  Temples, Ashramas, beaches, palaces, markets…the gently blending waters of the three seas…majestic hills embedded with clouds... vast unspoiled forests of Dandkaryanya…So many places so many people met so many incidents. Still to get myself together. Yesterday morning I woke up in my bed wondering where I was (in that state between sleep-awake).  Will write in some.

Monday, July 27, 2015


Watched a stunning documentary over the weekend--So far from home by Mira Nair, circa 1982.
Brilliantly told tale of a migrant from the home state.
Days later the story about the newspaper vendor tugs at the heart strings.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Ajmer fort where His Majesty the Emperor Jahangir of India and all her lands granted audience to Thomas Roe, circa 1615 (? 1616), Ambassador of King James I of England, and granted permission to trade. A decision that set of a domino chain of events, and thus was a subcontinent lost
The window where Emperor Jahangir granted audience



Barli inscription. circa 443 BC. 


Goosebumps… the diary entry from Thomas Roe’s journal --http://www.ibiblio.org/britishraj/Jackson9/chapter11.html

Barli inscriptions circa 443 BC. Believed to be amongst the oldest in India (and the world?).

Peace at the shrine. Feel blessed.



Sunday, the Bamboo trail, SGNP. Heavenly!

Monday, July 06, 2015

IV.26  The Thespian
What a commanding presence
Holding an audience spellbound
(An audience spilling-over into the aisles and steps, spellbound)
With a flick of his wrist, a look
A perfectly delivered line
What a voice
Gravelly-dulcet
What energy, flexible as an acrobat
Solid story, perchance
 even a reading of the Telephone Directory

Would be as impressive in that voice.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Rain. In the years that I have been here, I have lived through all shades of  monsoons. But this once is different. No slow build up of tempo—the skies have just opened up, intent on pelting downpours so heavy that you can’t see beyond a few feet. Relentless, mad rain  for days on end is a feature of our monsoons—but this happens a week or fortnight into the season, the first few days are a slow, even kind phasing in. Yesterday wild wind gusts have brought down many trees that were standing for years—bend, or give way.

Beyond my window the whoo whoo of the wind whips through what was once a canyon and now is not, rattling windows and keeping one awake past midnight. Even the crows are disturbed and squawk in alarm.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

I've been interviewed!

http://www.themetrognome.in/hum-log/talking-translations


New page for Jagubhai up at writingtranslations.blogspot.com