Wednesday, March 31, 2004

to my solitary mister

swimmin’ through the soup of life
long-limbed and straight as a willow
i see a little girl with wispy curls
waif-eyeing leaf, fingerprinting berries
and leaving
footprints in the grass. you may
be big now, doing grownup things
finding the world for your own
but your fingers give
you and your stardust dreams,
spiderweb shimmer of hopes
away.

Mina at 3:58 PM

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Tuesday, March 30, 2004

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence
:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

e e cummings

Mina at 11:54 AM

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Friday, March 26, 2004

Understand. Sometimes I could kill the damned word.

Understand. Comprehend. See beyond the attitude and the bravado, the fireworks and innocence, the reflection on the glass and into the room, where the lights will always be out. I know. I see. I am so much more spot-on than anyone will ever imagine and I hate it sometimes because it gives me what I feel now are excuses for behavior. Y is so meek because Y’s mother and sisters are hugely bossy. J does weird things because J wants attention. They lie because they are afraid that nobody will like or believe them if they tell the truth. X has so much attitude because X feels inadequate most of the time.
I understand, I can see through most of the dramay and I can empathise. I won’t pull the cover off because I understand (once again) why a façade is there in the first place. I don’t have to agree with a façade but its not my business to go around poking holes in one. I don't have to broadcast an opinion to hold one and us humans aren't really as complex as we'd like to believe. Coming back to the point- why am I empathizing? Why do I forgive people so soon? I’m not Mother Teresa. People maim my life just as much as anyone else’s and it hurts just as bad. And yet I am what, rationalizing their actions? Am I really?
I am not afraid of calling it like I see it; I am not afraid of facing things I don’t want to see or hear or believe. I have done it before and I can do it again. I just want to know what the hell this really is- seeing people for what they really are and accepting them like that-for what they are, good or bad or whatever- or just excusing them because its easy?

Mina at 9:27 PM

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Wednesday, March 24, 2004

that which does not kill us returns again and again until it does.

Mina at 9:02 AM

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Monday, March 22, 2004

I am driving up 85 in the
kind of morning that lasts all afternoon
I’m just stuck inside the gloom

4 more exits to my apartment but
I am tempted to keep the car in drive
and leave it all behind

'Cause I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life
Am I living it right
Am I living it right
Am I living it right
Why, why Georgia, why

Rent a room and I fill the spaces with
wood and places to make it feel like home
but all I feel’s alone

It might be a quarter life crisis
or just the stirring in my soul
either way

I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life
Am I living it right
Am I living it right
Am I living it right
Why, why Georgia, why

So what so I’ve got a smile on
It’s hiding the quiet superstitions in my head

Don’t believe me
Don’t you dare believe me
when I say I’ve got it down

Everybody is just a stranger
But that’s the danger in going my own way
I guess it’s a price I have to pay
Still everything happens for a reason
is no reason not to ask yourself if you are
living it right

Are you living it right
Are you living it right
Why, why Georgia, why


why georgia
john mayer

Mina at 8:49 AM

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Friday, March 19, 2004

yaar tum angrezi bauhat bolte ho.
lab two main subha saverey jab
duniya ko ya to ibadat karni chahieye
ya takieye ko sar se carbon-bond
tum wahan maa peyo ki cheekhein maar rahey ho
aur main yahan sar pe bandanna bandh ke
macharr maar rahi hoon....i realize
both of us are none-of-the-abovers but
yaar tum itni angrezi na bola kar,
itni subha bolta hi kaun hai?

Mina at 8:15 AM

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Monday, March 15, 2004

the phatak is madness. dust cakes the rusted once-yellow gates; settles and re-settles on donkeys, trucks, cars, cycle-wallahs all hysterically trying to get over the Raj-era tracks as soon as possible- fueled, perhaps, by some nameless fear of crossing train-tracks lest an invisible train come hurtling down the endless stretch of rail, fog-horn sirens blaring.

and there, in the midst of all this chaos of screaming horns and jostling traffic- someone has planted flowers in the middle of the rail tracks. someone has marked off two rectangles with bricks in traditional flowerbed edging, and leaves and petal stand stalwart; small dots of humanity on the faceless canvas of life.

Mina at 8:03 PM

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Friday, March 12, 2004

Somewhere in this darkness
There's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away...
Maybe I'm just blind...

Maybe I'm just blind....

Roaming through this darkness
I'm alive but I'm alone
Part of me is fighting this
But part of me is gone


When I'm Gone (lyric extracts)
3 Doors Down

Mina at 9:08 PM

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Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Smelly Kenyan Given Wash

KAPENGURI, Kenya: Fed up neighbours in Kapenguri, a remote town in north west Kenya, have forcibly washed a 52-year-old bachelor. The farmer John Kasokong had allegedly not bathed for 10 years and his odour reportedly overpowered local people. Irritated by his state, four muscular men trapped him while on his way from his farm and tied him down with ropes before giving him a thorough wash. Many people are said to have watched the public drama including the local chief. Neighbour Rogers Kimwei said they could not bear Mr Kasokong’s body odour and were forced to hatch a plan to clean him.


moral of story: no wonder he was a bachelor

Mina at 8:27 AM

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Monday, March 08, 2004

come, come whoever you are.
wanderer, idolater, worshipper of fire,
come even if you have broken your vows a thousand times,
come, and come yet again.

ours is not a caravan of despair.

Rumi

Mina at 8:53 AM

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Friday, March 05, 2004

In memory of Kiran Munir, who had long, long hair. Wherever you are, I hope you are dancing.

Mina at 9:28 AM

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sleep sits heavy
under my eyelids, scratching
my irises paler brown, voice
darkening with the night. and
insistently i blink, small
mosquito girl in snoopy
comforter, as if longed-for
sleep would haunt me

insomnia

Mina at 9:25 AM

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