morning!

Hi! Keeping on with the daily blogging routine, here I am. Up and about. Mamma had packed me some paranthas to last a few days which I just had with tea and chilly pickle. The plan for the day is to get ready and start working on the SA4D5 essay due 27 April. I plan on finishing it in five days, so I can study and have a bit of excursion in April. The weather here these days is so good here you'd not wanna be anywhere else. 

Will go for a walk up the Jubilee Bridge across the Thames towards London Eye and South Bank tonight. Also, I notice it's been so long that I posted any pics here. Will do it once I get done with the essay. Nice incentive. :)

As for the new blog skin - bear with me. Will make it more 'chic' in time.

So long!

London again

London it is again. Back to my bed. Feeling better. Much better than last night. The flight was awful. The customs even worse. But the Merc I was picked up by (just as I was looking for a ladies room to go puke) was good and the driver considerate. I came, I changed into something comfortable and slept. Have been up since 5 am today knowing not what to do. Think will go to Tesco and get some bread and milk. Sustenance food. I like being back here where my work is. 

I have decided I will keep you updated with stuff that I do, don't do, observe, ignore etc. Let's keep it simple for some days. Missed you my blog!

Up in the air

I type this from the plane. This is a delhi morning, bright at its

best. Had an uneventful flight except for the late night storm scare.

I awoke-slept through the flight, sleep, thoughts and the window 

accompanying me.

I don't know who will come to pick me up. Perhaps they have sent a car

or perhaps ma will come. I fear I will shed a tear or two as I would

see her. Something I don't want to do. And so I dont want to see her. I

know. Strange.

Im not feeling so fine. As if something is lost there. There in london.
They wil be waiting for me. And they are. My heart feels torn. A

selfish need to be taken care of and another to just hold myself in

possessiveness.

Be there, be here

God is dead. Marx is dead. Lenin is dead. Gandhi is dead. I am alive and not feeling too well myself. — Graffiti, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. May 1983.

I feel alive again, and how! A blog did it. I stumbled upon it just now and it sent things racing in my head. As if a glimpse of that world was what I was waiting for. The last week went by in a daze. I was down with fever and low in spirit. But today is a brand new day. Reminds me of my journey for tomorrow. Delhi, once more. I came here from Delhi quite different. I will return different still. And I am curious about how I am gonna feel. Yes it has just been six months away from home, but for someone like me who can feel a feel six times more than an average person does, I think it calls for some retropection. But more on that some other time.

As for right now, I don't really know if I am looking forward to going. I certainly am looking forward to meeting people. Only if I didn't have to travel to meet them now and then. Be distant yet be reachable. Be there, be here.

These days reading Amartya Sen's Development as Freedom along with Michael Sandel's Justice..the themes are different and so is the landscape, but there is a common thread. The thread that one has to look at issues keeping a 'human' perspective..that no matter what, even if it is one person's freedom pitted against the will of majority, that one lone voice should be paid heed, even if you have to ultimately override it. And not because it would be right to do so - the paying heed. But because there is no other way. Of course, this simplistic stuff is not what these books talk about, but the more you read, the more clear things become, the easier the distinctions, the less daunting the dilemmas.

Also, received Palace of Illusions today. All set for the flight.

no pasó nada

Everything will be fine. I will write and I'll be fine. I will read some and it shall restore what I seek so intensely right now. Nothing has 'happened'. Nothing really happens here, does it? It all falls through dark chasms, or creaks, if you like. For long I have waited for things to 'happen'. That's all what it is all about. A few more minutes and it will pass I know, for I'm keeping time. And then - a world would be saved! Perhaps this is what happens when the dust settles. Sometimes you grow so accustomed to the dust that clarity becomes a stranger in your bed. The impenetrable clarity. And takes a moment getting used to. The speck in the eye then becomes a succour, the incessant rubbing - a daily ritual - a false absolution.

रास्ते का एक काँटा, पाँव का दिल चीर देता
रक्त कि दो बूँद गिरती, एक दुनिया डूब जाती!

a fear

Today, tomorrow or one of these days, there will be more of life in me. But right now, as I trudge my way through the cobbled streets of my mind, my boots tapping at the stones, there is a fear, an apprehension and a lone voice. That perhaps I might not recover from these notions that have found home in me. That perhaps all else that I cared for might have to give up on me. Obstinacy then might become my motto and I be it's slave for life.

I have been unable to write for long, you must have noticed. How I used to go on and on on these pages. How there used to be more to say and less to fear. Now there sits a fear unafraid, or should I call it an uneasy possibility. That my words might snap at me one day. Pierce their fangs into the fingers that tend to them and be right in doing so. They might stand upright in front of me and ask, "whither belongeth thou?" What will I ever tell them?  To whom will the cowardly me go?

In that it is bliss to have the fearlessness of a child. The blatant ignorance or waving off of reality, responsibility and consequence, even if punishment awaits at the other end. The lack of intent or purpose. The task at hand is then their world, the task in itself the incentive. But one cannot have a realisation and still be a child. It just doesn't happen that way.