Thursday, May 21, 2009

Parallel veins on the palm leaf stand out, etched in mad hues of green crayon by THE master artist; what does it take to see, for long I had eyes but did not.

So filigree like; hinting at the shadows and shapes beneath the surface:

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
-Wordsworth, from Lines written in early spring.

With shock I watch the reigning king of the marquee walk by, dark, wiry and unimpressive. Its all the director’s doing, all glam sham I realize- the emperor has no clothes! Under the harsh lights they’re practicing a mass drill type of dance step in a purported state room- no envy, not for anything in the world. Not this.


Anonymous said...

Austere di, your fistful of flowers is depressing. I'd be quite miserable if not for my cold lassi.

Open endings are killers, epilogues savers. Please tell me Pranjivankaka, Pratima and Uday become best friends eventually.

AmitL said...

The master artist-I like that!!:)

The reigning king of the marquee==dost thou refer to the Singh Is King of Bollywood or politics?

BTW,things are better today..will write about what was/is wrong.

Anonymous said...

You saw people marching?
Or "dancing"? A vellicating mass of single bodies that become something new ... uniform, mindless following orders: Jump!

abbagirl74 said...

:) Thank you for stopping by. I was wondering, how is the weather there now?

Arunima said...

umm, reading and rereading it to see if I get any more meanings.

austere said...

Norrbu- well. :) I have yet to read a happy story written by the genius. If the ending is such like, then we have to go back and change the entire story, don’t you think….with people such as these nothing else can happen, can it?

Amit- I meant SRK. Kya hua? No update yet?

Mago- In Indian movies they gyrate to songs all synchronized, like marching. :) this is what I saw.

Abbagal- waiting for the rains!

arumina- I betcha you got them all. :)

quin browne said...

i come back and read you, sometimes leaving comments sometimes not.. sometimes, i come back and read and realise i need to say again how i love the flow and fall of your words.

austere said...

ty, quin browne.