The rain’s a moody lady

9 09 2009

Right about now, this very minute, 4:37 pm.

Its been promisisng to be a wet, windy and rainy sort of day for hours. The wind’s been blowing since morning and even with the twisted, sadistic luck my neighbourhood has with the rain, I can almost smell rain on the air. The trees are swaying in their characteristic slow, swishy waltzy way. Trees have a real feel for the entire dancing thing I think. Don’t believe me? Just go watch The Two Towers again. all those ballroom dancers you see on TV are no match for good ol’ Treebeard and company.

I’m hoping and praying that the first drops of raincome just before the sun goes down. That’s when rain is that its most beautiful. It’s twilight and the soft grey light of the evening becomes blurred as the drops begin to fall. It’s at times like these when its possible for anything, almost anything to be possible in the world.
Days like these are responsible for more than half the scifi and fantasy literature written in the world today. There’s something so magical, stern yet beautiful about a dark raincloud ont he horizon. It feels like its easier to believe and speak of dragons, of sorcery and witchcraft under a grey, wet sky.

I know for sure because that’s when I begin to mould the threads of my imgination together to form stories with the fantastic coming alive.

What do you think?


Anger Management

6 08 2009

I don’t know what it is about angry people that is scary. Maybe its the twisted features of their faces, or the fact that all angry people (I mean ALL angry people here – you, me, your mother, her two thousand and fifty five relatives) all of them end up looking ridiculous as the anger mounts.

Now you may get angry over the state of the roads in Delhi, or the guy who has never heard of deodorent standing right next to you in the elevator or even the pesky kids that draw squiggly lines on the dusty windows of your car, but all of us angry people like to think that “our” anger is justified and upheld by the gods themselves; because we are oh-so-righteous and we know what we’re talking about and the other guy (everyone doing the perpetrating of injustice and evil ergo disagreeing with us and making us angrier) is plain WRONG. Don’t ask how we know it – he just is!

Don’t ask us why we’re angry. We just are.

Anger is fine.

Rage is fine.

Fury, too, is fine.

What is not fine is the way we gladly leave our humanity and compassion wilting in the dust when anger takes over. It’s alright to angry as long as you don’t forget that the person you are railing and ranting at is also a human being with feelings that have to be considered. You may consider yourself justified in screaming, shotuing and generally making a nuisance of yourself but if yourself through the eyes of the person you’re busy shredding to bits, you might perhaps reconsider the antics, and cool down.

Misty Mornings

6 01 2009

I think it was around 6 in the morning when the first rumblings of consciousness began to stir around in my head.  There was a faint whirring noise and a niggling chill creeping into my toes.  I pulled my foot back into the quilt and curled up, desperately trying to the snuggle deeper into the bedclothes.  It didn’t work.  It was cold.  It was freezing and I felt it.  It wasn’t letting me sleep so I thought I’d do the sensible thing and drag myself out of bed. 

I pushed the covers aside and swung my feet off the bed.  The cold floor stung my feet and I winced as a thousand needles of biting cold dug into my feet.  I jumped and hopped about till I spotted my slippers half hidden under the scarf I’d discarded the night before.   Slippers slipped on. Mission accomplished. 

I stepped out into the hall and looked about.  I was the first one up, the rest of the apartment was dark.  I pushed the door of the corner room open.  The parklights were on.  The park and the dirt field where kids played cricket was flooded with light.  They glowed softly beyond the windows.  A thick screen of mist covered all the windows and the lights shining behind the glass seemed like giant candles suspended in the air.  The whole field held a very eeire look.  There was nobody about, and everything was quiet.  The silence felt heavy.

I shivered.  It reminded me a bit of the witching hour.  True appreciation of Sophie’s plight as she stood at her window can only be understood by somebody who has been through a similar exprience.  At that moment, every shadow on the ground seemed sinister and every tree seemed to hide a murderous giant in its leaves.  A murderous giant who would hide by day and pick children off as tasty morsels….

What am I talking about…this is what happens when you let your mind run away with you.  I meant to tell you about the fog and mist that descended upon Delhi today.  It was beautiful.  Eerie yet beautiful.  You could hardly see anything.   Everything seemed covered with miniscule drops of water.

I groaned at the thought of trudging halfway across the city to get to work.  It’s too cold and too inhuman to make somebody work on a dreary, gloomy day like this.  It’s depressing, not to mention mindnumbingly boring.  I wouldn’t make my worst enemy work on a day like this…..and this, dear readers is the reason why I am 25 and without a team of my own to boss around.

Because there won’t be much bossing around happening.  I’d rather just let everyone be happy and enjoy their work, even if it meant I would have to chew them out later fot not finishing their work on time and making me miss a deadline due to which the project goes to some other company…oh heavens the list goes on.

Jokes apart, I think I would make a pretty effective boss. I’m diplomatic, I know what I want and how to get others to work without letting them know I’m getting them to do something for me. 

So…never fear.  One of these days… eureka moment will arrive and finally a team of my own!

Blissful dreams……

Post the First

31 12 2008

I am always, unfailingly, unswervingly impressed with people who know exactly what they want to write the minute they attach their rear-end to a chair, bed, bean bag, lap, what-have-you. What is the deal with that? Do they keep thinking about what they’re going to write as they’re walking around finishing other stuff, or is like a gun goes off in their heads. boom! Folks, iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit’s writing time and some tappity tap tap later…voila! They’ve actually managed to conjour up some words on the screen.

It’s mortifying.

Enough to make a girl quit at times. Because as it happens very often with me, I sit down to write, I know what I want to convey yet…yet the words just won’t budge. It’s like fishing for tadpoles with a torn net. You spot the bugger and just as you’re about to swoosh in and net him, poof, he’s gone. One good thing is that anyone’s who’s been watching you gets a great laugh. And if you want to go kill yourself over something as silly as knowing what to write but not being able to do so is clearly not anybody’s problem.

I thought I figured out a way to deal with the problem. Lists! Yes, make lists. Lists of ideas, characters, places, seas, rivers, continents. fictional and otherwise. The idea behind the whole execrise ios that if you keep these lists in your head, the words will trigger memories and connections to various objects, effectively bridging the gap between “ooh I got a great idea for a story!” and “I’m finally finished with this chapter!”. As of now, I’m stuck between “ooh I got a great idea for a story!” and “Errrrrr…..well…ummmm.”

So I chucked the lists but found a substitute soon after.  Mind maps!

When I was in 8th grade, about to graduate Middle School, somebody (don’t remember who sorry) came up with the idea of having mind maps as our yearbook write ups.  So next to your gangly picture in glasses (in my case, braids….don’t remind me)  you’d have a mind map. 

Think of it this way.  You write your name in the middle of the page and then draw small lines that branch off towards circles (or whatever other shape you like) where you write about things that describe you or excite you, like your interests and hobbies.  And you keep adding to those.  So, in effect it will create a cloud of words, phrases and pictures that describe your time spent at school,  activities, interests, fun stuff you did with your friends, crushes, the love of your life stuff like that and the end result would look similar to a tag cloud only it was a tag cloud about you. 

You are at the centre and the words surrounding you are your world.  It was interesting to see the sorts of things that lived inside people’s heads.  Of course, it was 8th grade…so there was a lot, I mean a LOT of posturing. BUt, even so, for some of us that mind map became like a mirror we went back to year after year, to see if we could add something or remove something from it. 

It really is your journey as a person. 

Maybe you should try it sometime.  It might surprise you.