February 15, 2009

Moods on The Valentine’s Day

This year apart from everyone sending mails to everyone else about the Pink Chaddi campaign, Valentine’s Day seemed to have lost the innocent excitement it held in 2001 or 2002. As C tells me, it’s perhaps because we are growing up. So on Friday, the day before this year’s Val D she sent me this poem that completely captured the mood.

He goes home, seeking consolation

Among old Beatles and Pink Floyd -

But 'Girl' elicits mere frustration,

While 'Money' leaves him more annoyed.

Alas, he hungers less for money

Than for a fleeting Taste of Honey.

Murmuring, 'Money - it's a gas! ...

The lunatic is on the grass,'

He pours himself a beer. Desires

And reminiscences intrude

Upon his unpropitious mood

Until he feels that he requires

A one-way Ticket to Ride - and soon -

Across the Dark Side of the Moon.

Vikram Seth- Golden Gate

On the eve of Val D, we all went to Hawaiian Shack to celebrate the birthday of a friend, trying to dance away the night. But more about that later. As we headed back, I remembered this poem that another friend, S wrote in her blog. Sometimes, I feel that she’s wasting her talent selling soaps.

You

Miss her

But never want to speak to her

Ever again

She

Understands you like a dream

She also abso-fucking-lutely brings

The devil out in you

It

Is not love not hate

It is that crazy-dysfunctional-mutative human curse

I like to call the love-hate

The Mumbai Mirror carried an article today that the police today would be vigilant as if on a terror alert, to ensure that nothing untoward happens on this day. I remembered this poem by Martin Niemoller.

First they came for the Jews

and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists

and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me

and there was no one left to speak out for me.

I promised few people their well deserved chocolates. But like most of my plans, they did not get fulfilled. I like to see what I am gifting. Unfortunately, none of the shops seemed to remain open when I finally made my way back from office these days. Someday, I will.

And finally in the night as I sat staring into darkness, this song Kushal sent me came back to my mind.

Hothat jokhon sondhya neme ase

Akash pane ChaaNd muchki haase

aNdhar jokhon gobhir hote chai

Samay jokhon emni boye jai

Nijer ghore nibhiye baati

Ratri ami thakbo tomar saathi

Sokal abar asbe jaani kal

Puber akash porbe siNdur lal

Sei akash-e nai re kintu ChaaNd

Sei akash-e nai re maya-r faaNd

Din ke jokhon sibai bhalobase

Ratri ami thakbo tomar pashe

“When suddenly evening descends

And the moon chuckles;

When the darkness wants to become deeper,

And time just passes by,

I shall shut out my lights

And stay with you, my night.

The morn will come tomorrow again

The skies will adorn her red hue

But there will no longer be the moon

Or the enchantment of the night.

While everyone loves the morning,

My beloved night – I shall stay by your side.”

I found poetry again after a long long time this Valentine’s Day and sensed the innocence once again. However, xkcd had to intervene.


2 comments:

Shreya said...

SFS! Selling soap is creative work. Sometimes you invent reasons why others should buy them, at times you invent reasons why you should sell them :D

Anonymous said...

hey banjo....its almost a month and you still havent written abt our esselworld trip! :(
either you need a lot of time to write on it...or you dont want to!!!!!!!