Archive for July, 2007


Either… Or

July 31, 2007


Pessimism is her only refuge from false promises of happiness


False promises of happiness are her only refuge from pessimism


Never a whole 2

July 31, 2007

Never a whole

He lived his life as a singular whole
Complete in his spirit, soul and mind
Then he scattered himself in her fragments
Only to lose what he thought he would find.


In the shadows

July 31, 2007

And she lived her life in the shadows,
hidden from the light.
Saying and trying to feel,
what was deemed to be right.
And when the real dark descended,
on her on the last night.
She left without knowing,
the vision hidden in her own sight.


More than furniture

July 29, 2007

O.K. So I was the soppy kind of a kid who used to absolutely loooovvveeee playing ‘houses’ when I was younger. (you can see how soppy I was by the way I pull that looooovvveee)

Last week an unexpected visit to Ikea left me with that same exhilarated feeling that you have when you are playing houses (yes yes! I am soppy!)– that of creating your own house, in a way you want, with your imagination and without compromising on your choice.

Of course – I was only buying a few knick-knacks (for the rented apartment with its already existing furniture) and not an entire houseful of stuff, but it suddenly gave me this deep deep longing to start playing houses again – only this time for real. Make my own house, maybe design my own house like an architect.

And in my mind I was already making up some 20 different houses with a different interiors theme for each of them – The one with the white walls and red windows, the one with the turquoise and blue curtains and lazed out sea-green lounge in the hall, the one with the black and grey dining table and chairs and the one with the cream porch with the warm brown cushion chairs.

And I could not stop co-coordinating the curtains with the cutlery with the bath-mats with the laundry basket with the sofa with the bed-sheets with the closets with the curtains with the waste-paper basket with the knife-holder, with the refrigerator with the lamp shades with the picture frames. And suddenly I wished I were an interior designer and people’s houses were my canvas and I paint my imagination on their walls and in their gardens,

The coolest part about Ikea is the do-it-yourself concept. For those like me who are so used to the furniture being delivered home by those wizened looking men in the white vest and tattered trousers on their ancient handcart, the whole packed-Sofa-cum-Bed-take-home-in-the-backseat-of-your-car-and-assemble-in-your-bedroom-in-fifteen-minutes concept can be really exciting.

It’s almost like making a sculpture or something. O.K not exactly like sculpting (I know I know ..,, I just got a little carried away) but closer to sculpting than most of us have ever been. And suddenly I want to be a sculptor and make beautiful figures in marble and clay that adorn living rooms across the world

And then I go into the kitchens – those tastefully made-up, co-ordinated, fully equipped modular kitchens and I want to be a chef only so that I spend all my time in that you-cant-believe-a-kitchen-can-be-so-beautiful-kind-of-kitchen

And once I spent hours strolling through this wonderland, I suddenly wanted to be the merchandiser for this store because that gives you the chance to select what you want to keep in this store, to provide co-ordinated material.

I knew Ikea was about building color-co-ordinated dreams, self-sufficient houses, perfect homes. But now I know it can also be about all those things I could have been but am not.

Don’t think they know yet, that they sell more than furniture.



July 29, 2007

The funkiest pair of shoes I have seen..ever!



The ladder

July 26, 2007


And sometimes we make a big deal
Of climbing our way up there
Only to realize all that effort
Was actually for going nowhere.


Hole in my soul

July 26, 2007


And sometimes I was the wheel
That drove you along the road
And sometimes I was the lever
That helped you to cope with the load
And sometimes I was the mint with the hole
That freshened your life everyday
And you called me your sweet doughnut
When all the bitterness, I took away.
And I was your CD that sang your song,
Be it the blues, jazz or rock n roll
And in all those times I never realized,
That you could leave me with a hole in my soul.