Songs of the not-so innocent

I'm at a party. There's a lot of beer floating around along with some tequila. Problem ? I'm not a party person and there's way too many people floating around too. Hence this post. The anthro dept. chair has a nice office. Its spacious & has 2 large windows overlooking a plot of land attempting vainly to be mistaken for a garden. At the time of this story, the trees outside were decked rather prettily in a riotous bloom of red flowers. Very pleasant, on the whole for the spectators. I wasn't one. The one anomaly in this otherwise normal room were a set of swing doors at the entrance. They were exactly like the ones you'd find in a saloon in the Old West complete with the wooden slats, extended creakiness and definitely having had seen better days. It may just be my imagination or my circumstances at the time, but every time I was about to enter that room, I felt like that insignificant desperado in the western flick who knows he's going to have his nogg

[ The next few posts are going to be about my time in the Anthropology dept., Pune Univ. from 2004 - 06. I'll cherish those 2 years, always. I met some real characters... friends now, and went on a trip that left me with memories no amount of time can fade. If interested, read on... if not, well... tough .] I'm lounging in my chair at work. My back is curved at an angle that promises some painful consequences later, but I leave it to my later self to deal with that. In this not-so classical position, the only thing I can clearly see is the ceiling. There's nothing even remotely remarkable about it; its been painted this marvellously creative shade of... drum rolls please ... white & there are two sets of tube-lights that compete with each other to light up the room. Since the room is only 7 x 6 at its most optimistic best, the brightness here manages effortlessly to set my teeth on edge. But, I digress. The ceiling only serves to bring back memories to me of another tim

I don't claim to understand any form of poetry. I don't claim to write any either. Think of the following as free verse, in kindness and rambling, in any other state of mind. a look, a glance, a stare ? just a pair doing their myriad duties too well... and more they asked me i could not answer they told me i could not understand they gave a smile of acceptance i could not believe they cried, no tears i could not comfort they conveyed our closeness and forced our distance they were fearful i was the coward who flinched they were cold fury and i let them burn, consume... i turned away wished in that instant they would demur blink be anything but alive with that cornucopia of possibility and it was i who brushed them close for all time so gently they haunt me now always i would have it no other way they mock me, my helplessness, my humanity

There are places in this world which you actually will miss if you blink. This is one such place. 7 feet by 2 feet, that's all the space it occupies. In the daytime it is enveloped by a cacophony of cheerful conversations, indignant arguments and incredulous beseeching. In the evenings it exchanges these for the illumination from the typical 60 watt clear bulb dangling from the red and black twisted wire, and perfumes itself with the bewitching smells of sandalwood incense and jasmine, a potent combination that I like to think is India's alone. Odds and sods drift in and out, hardly spending a fleeting few minutes contemplating a lightening of their purse. Sometimes the rupee notes shyly unveil themselves, at other times they don't. The rotund figure who is master of this space is generally perched on the single metal bar-stool. He deigns to chat with a chosen few familiars and casually ignores the rest. There are instances when that seat is empty and he's sharing a 

The following text has been taken from the Japanese anime Bleach, episode 125. The two characters are Kurosaki Ichigo (IK) and Kenpachi Zaraki (KZ). Make of it what you will... IK: We finished our fight a long time ago. KZ: Finished? It’ll never be finished. A battle is not like some stupid argument. As long as someone is still breathing, the fight isn’t over. IK: I don’t have any reason to fight you. KZ: You want a reason… for fighting ? Why don’t you just accept it already, Ichigo ?! You seek out fights. You desire power. Isn’t that right, Ichigo ? Everyone who searches for power, without exception, searches for battle ! Do you fight in order to become more powerful ?! Or do you want more power so that you can fight ? I'm not the one to tell you that. The only thing I know for sure is, guys like us were born this way. We were born to fight, Ichigo ! BATTLE ?! KZ: Your instincts will keep leading you towards new ba