sweet reminiscences of a chweet encounter

preserved in my memory forever....
(Warning: Plagiarists steer away from my poem,'coz itz not the poem i'm worried 'bout but my memories which tag along with it)

One day in an alien land
I look up and the sky seems grey
grey as in the sadness of death
felt the night in between the day

but that did not make me sad
instead i stood mesmerised
i luked at the clouds almost kissing the earth
there was silence on my lips

cant you see me dancing
oh how could you -it was my inner self!
i could feel the wind caress my face
the droplets becoming rivulets

caught completely unawares in the downpour
i managed to save myself from the prying eyes of the world
i shiver while the water drips from my hair

so long after i'm back in my land
i look towards the sky
and search for those wandering clouds
which wud revive my memories again...

my mind dances
my heart races
someone please stop it there!
I look outside the window,
The raindrops lash the glass panes,
I go back to my sleep
With those sweet dreams on my eyelids...........

(I think i titled this poem "In search of the cloud")

Finally a play -"Final Solutions" by Mahesh Dattani

I'm happy that Bangalore does offer a few mercies -like theatre for instance.
A theatre enthusiast wud find Hyderabad as dry as the Sahara ,so trying to look at the brighter side of my state of affairs(obviously of being badly stranded in Bangalore) i took refuge
in a play.
"Final Solutions " by Mahesh Dattani -winner of the Sahitya Akademi Award beckoned me and i fell hook,line and sinker!
A fine and warm Sunday evening it was when I started on my way to Nani's arena (don't mistake it for some boxing ring, it is a haven for the arty sorts).
People who appeared to be the 'elite' met my eye when I landed there - whoever said that the "beard doesnt make the philosopher" have to eat their words- here was a conglomeration of people who smelt of art - the women wearing sarees and dressed in ethnic fare, the men with the kurta and jute bags completed the look.I looked lost in my jeans n a funky top! anywayz that dint stop my entry does it?
The place was a small one which would accomodate only 'bout 50 odd ppl but the lighting and acoustics suggested that this is one place ideal for a play.
Well let me finally come to "Final Solutions" -this play focuses on a serious problem plaguing our nation today - communal violence.The play is about a simple Hindu family who are suddenly faced with lot of questions when 2 Muslim guys seek refuge in their house during the communal riots.This begins the quest for the truth of their beliefs by the father,mother,daughter and Bha(the grandmother).The story is juxtaposed deftly between two time periods - the present and the past and finally throws light into the beliefs of even those who consider themselves very liberal minded!this is some serious food for thought.
As to the performances, the roles of Ramnik,Bha and Javed are commendable.The girl who played the young housewife is also very sweet and adds lighter moments to this otherwise serious play.
All in all i must say it wud appease the taste buds of any theatre-goer.

old frendz and best frend

Whenever I think of my old friends and also my best friend,
I'm reminded of this poem

The Last leaf.....

Was thinking of old friends today
And how many of them have slipped away.
Moved, got married, or stopped calling so much,
Found new friends, got busy, and just lost touch.
It reminded me of falling leaves.

Every autumn the leaves fall from the trees.
Some stay longer than others, but eventually
-Each leaf must fall, I'm told,
Leaving the tree alone to face the cold.

Why is it that in the time of utmost need
The leaves would seek to leave the tree?
And when we need our friends around
We look and they can not be found?

Of course these friendships come and go
And in the spring new leaves will grow.
But I prefer autumn friends of old
With crackling laughter and colors bold.

It saddens me now I must admit
How somehow, someway, I did forget
Laughing with old friends of mine
During summers when the sun would shine.

And then I thought of you.
That one stubborn leaf that won't let go.
That clings despite the winds that blow.
Fighting ice, and snow, and winter's stings
Hanging on right through till spring.

So I guess that's what you are to me -
The very last leaf to leave the tree.I
know it seems silly, but it's true.
When I see that last leaf...I think of you.

lesser known facts of me

I'm interested in anything thatz even remotely associated with arts - painting,pottery, interior decor,dancing(folk,Indian classical,salsa,tango,waltz..),theatre,arts and artifacts...
njoy reading - strictly the fictional works and anything having a semblence to poetry suffer from a compulsive disorder of binging on ice creams and chocolates (did I say I never met a Calorie I did not like!)
writing - i do make futile attempts n Mouthshut is one place where unsuspecting people become my guinea pigs
nurture too many dreams(with eyes wide open) while listening to songs like
"simti hui yeh gadiya phir se naa bhikar jaayee" (Hope the moments i've gathered so carefully dont get scattered again!)

read at ur own risk (I mean boredom)

I thot i hate blogs ( no offence to all those regulars out here)- the very thot that someone is creeping into the crevices of my innermost thots gives me the gitters!
but wat changed my opinion ?? (a very interesting story ; read on if u dun have anything better to do)
wat is life which does not have an impossible dream in it??-n So my dream is to publish my own book - to tell a story that no one had ever told before.(whether the buk wud get sold or lies asleep in the top most rack, is another Q altogether!)
ok ok before you start cursing me lemme come to the point - itz bin so many yrs since I have been harbouring this thot but am not moving anywhere close to even choosing the plot of my buk,so i thot a lille pratice(at writing obviously) wudn't hurt .
Now haven't I bored u enuf??? but I did warn u