...these silver lines, travel from my thoughts to yours, wavering, floating like spirits dancing...

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Indian Films in Pakistani cinemas?

I have difficulty believing that our country does not possess enough talent or resources of its own to create and improve upon its entertainment industry and cultural promotion awareness, that it must now rely so much on Indian sources of entertainment - and that too Indian films. Our film history dates back, if not as far back as the Indian one, then almost equally so. Our actors, actresses, directors, producers, singers, makeup artists, set-designers, production crew have almost as much of an experience working in the film medium, if not less than the Indian film industry's. Why then this sudden reliance on the India film industry at our local cinemas and cineplexes?

I have often believed that our country is blessed with more artistic talent than most nations. Our history is a testament to this fact. If this were not true, we would not have had such great writers or poets, artists, painters, or sculptors, or musicians or singers, writers or playwrights, actors of the stage or philosophers of science and life.

The fact that we have not always been able to cash in on the great fortune - for this talent is a blessing in deed - is in fact a sorry fact. Yet, despite this, one gets to find and meet wonderful people - people on a same wavelength as yourselves - who are doing their part, in whichever big or small way or whatever manner, in not only preserving the heritage of our culture, art and history, but have taken the bold and brave step to progress it further, so that it doesn't remain stagnant, so the beauty of our life is never forced to pause in the pages of history, but that it goes on, flows on and blossoms as life blossoms, changes as our life changes, and becomes a live witness to our society and its evolution with its minute intricacies. Kudos to them!

Monday, June 1, 2009

For the Love of Food! or Lover's Food!

I love croissants! I love the rich, fluffy texture... I love the buttery goodness... I love the warm feel of a croissant melting into my mouth... mmmmm... That is why I decided to dedicate this post entirely to CROISSANTS!

If it were up to me, I would declare it love food. For me, it really is love food. Imagine biting into a buttery, sugary croissant over your favourite coffee, sitting across from your beloved, chatting, and sharing endearances.... Rosy picture eh? Seriously, there's nothing better to share with your loved one than a rich, fluffy croissant.

A croissant can take all your troubles away, give you a jumpstart for the day, and make you happy!

See? Now, who wouldn't be happy after catching sight of such a lovely piece of golden brown bread early in the morning?

Now the best things to have with croissants, are coffee of course, and chocolate, melted chocolate if you can manage that, and butter or jelly. Mmmm....

I think for me, chocolate croissant and coffee are a marriage made in heaven.

I love croissants because they are simple, yet delicious, and you can experiment a lot with them. You can make them into sandwiches, or rolls, you can have them by themselves, plain and simple or you could spread them with chocoloate, butter or a filling of your choice.

Croissant is happy food all the way! Makes me think of France and all the French foods...
Another good thing about them is that you can have them at any time of the day! Be it breakfast, lunch or an in-between quick snack! My favourite is in the morning, with coffee over the morning paper.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Of sweaty people and close encounters

Now, the last post that I wrote might have been reminiscent of good office memories, but beleive me, there are some office experiences that are just not pleasant. Take for example being in really close proximity with sweaty, smelly people and having to work with them! Now that's just not good! Given the nature of the office environment, and that you cannot always be downright honest with people here, you cannot do much about it except just bear it with a heavy heart (and closed nostrils and difficult breathing). You can try hinting subtly, very subtly how this situation is affecting you, but you might not succeed very far with it. For example, you can try spraying some air freshener or a body spray or fragrance (very handy in such times, so you should always carry one close by) in the air, while saying, is it just me, or is the air suddenly gone stale! I might just tell you now, that as I write this, I am sitting very close to a person who is stinking very very very very badly and it is becoming very difficult to write my feelings right now, I feel like I might suffocate, so I think I will move and go out for some fresh air. I did however, spray my fragrance in the radius around me, and I haven't really been talking to this person today, so I hope the message got through to him. And yes its a guy! And why is it that it's usually guys who stink? urrghhh...!!! have to move! CAN'T BREATHE!!!

Friday, April 10, 2009

n o s t a l g i a

Life has a funny way of bringing back past memories to you at the most unexpected moments... when you least expect it, you suddenly remember something and delving on it, you try to recount the magic of that long ago moment. Like right now, for example, I am struck by a strong feeling of nostalgia, remembering my old office days... how those winter days and nights passed by... so quickly and how suddenly I have moved on and adjusted myself to my new workplace. But I still remember those moments, those moments of colourful memories, that are sometimes triggered by some smells, sometimes just like that... like I said, totally unexpected and totally sudden. I still have the empty perfume bottle that I used to wear in those days, and I have kept it because it, more than anything else brings back a load of memories, some images, some snippets of coversation, my feelings of those times... I will hang on to this little bottle, and cherish it more than anything... because it too is a part of that time.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Mozart and Beethoven are playing one after the other. The lights are dim in the room. The silence is broken by music and conversation alternately. One side of the room has a shelf lined with books from top to bottom. The coffee's just the right taste and flavour in my mouth, while outside a slight breeze is swaying the trees in the garden outside. There is a screen door through which the city sounds drift in every now and then. A car screeching loudly. An ambulance far in the distance, the alarm growing fainter by the second. Sometimes, I catch the sound of a young child crying somewhere and the clank of metal cutlery falling to the floor, then I hear a mother comforting the crying child. But the city sounds are muffled by the symphonies of the old geniuses of music.

To be blind and be able to create such beauty. To be deaf and still be able to create perfection.

The lights in the room dim even lower as I look at my environs. The room in simple yet functional. My eyes pass over small statues made of steel, of ancient soldiers and Greek philosophers. Books lie on a bedside table, their covers and titles enchanting me like all unread books do at first glances. Notebooks with thick red binding, big and thick, lie on the worktable. A page lies here and there. Some articles of clothing shrugged off and thrown casually as in a rush. A cloth hanger or two. A neutrogena oil-free moisturizer stands neatly on the worktable with the thick red bound notebooks.

A warm, dark blanket lies folded on the bed and I catch a glimpse of a shoe peeking from underneath the bed.

My coffee's almost finished and I'm lost in the symphony, wishing it never to end, to forever keep playing like this. To forevermake this moment last. To forever keep this magic. There are stories to be told in each tune and every melody has a tale. Every note has a history and it takes you back to the simpler times.

But right now all they do is add magic and beauty to the night.

The wind has picked up outside and I see thick grey-black clouds far in the distance. It might rain but if the wind's stronger it might take the clouds and disperse them.

Tonight, I don't wish for it to rain. The wind is perfect acompaniment to the old music - the powerful rythms, that gusto, that slow building tempo, driving towards that perfect moment of cresendo and climax.

Scattered Wings

The 28 wings still lie scattered
on the tiled floor
Wait, there's 29 - and there - that's 30.
I know because I counted
twice and thrice just to be sure.
They're tiny, these small long wings
Yellowish and frail
and newly disjointed from
tiny bodies of lost souls.
Funny, that disjointedness.
Once, one entity,
now, who knows?

Taking risks

Life is ever-changing, ever-moving, spinning like a pinwheel, never the same, always turning upside down. When you least expect it, life gives you lessons to learn and a chance to open new doors and explore unknown territories. Uncharted lands which look difficult and rocky - but something about them seems right - just right.

At the end of the day, all that matters is whether you're willing to take risks. Take risks and know that something good will come out of them. Take risks for things that seem to matter. Take risks for the one you love. Take risks for your love. Take risks because you can love. Because you can love. And human beings have to take risks.

Speak not...

Speak not of your enchanted heart,
Lest the vines curl and wrap themselves
around my own.
These thorns are deeper than they seem.
Love, love is not blind
though cupid might be.
So speak not of your fevered heart
My own has so much to unfold.


Love is a poison, brimming with danger
It's a tunnel of red lights
where cars speed through
in the late hours of the night.
And quiet, like the sound of a dandelion
falling in a field of green plains...