Wednesday, October 27, 2010

the parent's in icu, has a femur frature after a fall, needs to be stablisised bp wise before they can operate.
under control.

Friday, October 22, 2010

It is good to periodically find a metaphorical mountain to climb. To pit one’s will, to stretch boundaries etc.
Now, one may logically prepare to climb the said mountain, practice with trainer wheels, hear the cautionary tales of other trekkers, think of worst and best cases and etc., and put your head down and get on with it.
But then the said, metaphorical mountain can dramatically alter, morph, take on new shapes.
And so we begin anew.
So I’m learning.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

At that hour the sky is pitch dark, just the quiet and a dog or cat yodeling; but later, rich pinks flood the sky, usha arun ney kumkum pagaley.. those were the words I remember from a song learnt in class 4, and there has yet to be a better capture for this dawn parade, or the finery of gold spun over the frangipani.

Each day teaches me something new about human nature. Will polish and use in a story, not to worry.

Friday, October 08, 2010

When I walked this evening on the terrace it was later than usual, the sky a darker pastel dotted with a plane and helicopter or two, the billboards on the distant highway shone brighter than usual, twinkling lights and the faint beat of a disco garba heard in the air.
Navratri begins, and to me this is a season of resurgence, of renewal and faith.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

The neem are in bloom. As are the flowers I've always thought of as the inspiration for the carving at the Taj. Not quite autumn, and a resurgence of life, and the cycle goes on.

Monday, October 04, 2010

The cloud-laden night sky was a peculiar red at four a.m., much too early to get up. And like a dowager gloating over her garnished jewellery in storage to remind herself of her faded beauty, I let my thoughts rest upon the significance and sorrow of the day, life events that lead to a place that is bleached dry and emotionless in its quiet, and the norm that all life losses would be measured on and found wanting. And almost in keeping with the Buddha’s lesson to the grieving widow, of a single mustard seed collected from a home with no sorrow, one waits for news from a surgery that a cousin has been undergoing all day; yes sometimes it takes so long.

Added: She is doing ok, touchwood.