Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Voice of whispering colors

His voice was a shade of light, lazy lavender.. the shade I absolutely long and relish .. the rhythm in the sound sometimes reminded me of softly falling snow flakes on an already snow lush mountain. When he spoke of his ambitions, the warm lavender turned alert taking a deeper, vibrant shade.. The intensity of his words took me to a crystal clear flowing river where an artist had forgotten his lavender smeared paint brush which now lent its brilliant color to the water..

Love turned his voice darker still pushing it into the purple'ish' realm.. Sometimes his naughtiness seemed to mix crazy, ticklish, endearing pink to the already passionate purple. Wherever he went, he seemed to leave a soaring dark shade of satin red behind.. the kind of red that makes people fear when they are guilt ridden and fills them with hope, energy and confidence when they are innocent enough to understand reds.. You could neither love him nor ignore him.. He induced confusion just like how green can sometimes confuse me.. Is it a green filled with envy or is it the innocent green which fills the leaves..

It always managed to break something inside me when his words turned to whispering blue.. But blues didn't last long with him.. he was immune to blue.. I can never describe him in black or white. He has always been an enigma with a tinge of grey that perhaps hides the blinding brilliant gold inside.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Exhibition of love

Can we have an exhibition
of fairy tails?
of the dwarfs telling us their tales?
Can we have an exhibition
of forgotten nights?
reminding us of our dearest dreams
Can we have an exhibition
of stolen kisses?
One given, one bought and one for free..
Can we have an exhibition
of today's hopes
So we can catch a glimpse of tomorrow's promises
Can we have an exhibition
of colorful bangles
And not allow anyone,so I can have it all for me..

Monday, September 13, 2010

Figment of imagination

Is there a pattern to you
or are you just a random stroke
Are you here to carve a niche road
or are you just a wandering soul
Are you for real
or are you a figment of my imaginative mind
or probably of my childish heart..
Are you really priceless
like the pearl inside the ocean
or are you just a fools' paradise..
Do you listen to my silences?
Do you play with my shadows?
Do you understand my nuances?
Do you cushion my falls?
If so, why have you come out tonight?
go right back inside my heart..

My friend, the cloud

My friend, the cloud has visited me
I know the cloud the moment I see
It tries to hide in its shapless spree
Knowing it can never hide from me
There is not another prettier cloud
with a shape more endearing than thee
In the infinity of unnamed and forgotten clouds
my friend, the cloud has escaped this night
A different mask can change the form
the outward shapes don't matter to me
My friend, the cloud has visited me
I know the cloud the moment I see

Friday, September 3, 2010

Monsoon memoires


“Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.”

Our recent trip to Udupi brought back to me memories of my years in Mangalore. Mangalore resides in me as a particularly cozy little world with a very humid weather and full of Konkani speaking people. Mangalore knows just two ways of being - either soaking wet or scorching hot. My summers in Mangalore were mainly spent getting badly tanned and drinking limitless "bonda" water .. The rains however are a very different story turning Mangalore into a really wet and an equally dreamy place..

Coastal Karnataka has this unmatched charm about it.. Everything including the aroma in the air changes soon as we cross the ghats entering the lovely coastal regions.. Cold Bangalore weather departs to welcome the ever humid Mangalore air with its constant smell of the sea and jackfruits .. The kannada accent of the coastal reigions sounded really funny when I was new to Mangalore and now my Kannada is a weird mix of Bangalorean and Mangalorean accents which is a standing joke with my friends from both places.. sigh.

Mangalore will always have a special place in my heart.. for reasons more than one. It continues to hold me in its nest of wonder. Maybe forever.

"Don't grow up too quickly, lest you forget how much you love the beach."

Best,
Gargi


Thursday, September 2, 2010

Some more of you..

Stay with me one more day
hold me another time
give me another smile
one another look
give me a little more love
a little more of you
give me one more chance
to take in some more of you
give me a little more magic
some more memories
some more laughter
some more of you..

Gargi