Monday, December 27, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
We learnt about the different kinds of puppetry, such as the ones she used at her show the day before- shadow, cutouts, figures etc. Puppetry called ravanchitra is popular in South india. It is named after Ravan as Ram being divine, doesn't have a shadow! We collected objects from the roadside to see what they would look like when a overhead projector would be used to project them on screen. I picked up a chakri- a leftover firecracker from Diwali. It worked well as a snail when projected. We then composed small stories under a minute using the objects we had found, in groups of 5. A tattered cloth looked beautiful on the screen. So did flowers, water in a transparent bottle, a hairclip. It was fun to imagine, be children again. We then attempted to make puppets from transparencies, cardboard and paper. We had wire and thumbtacks to create joints for our puppets. We were given three stories to stage. First we had to create a visual storyboard. This let us know at a glance what props were required for a scene. The next day we were to introduce colour using cellophane. Sigh. I wish I could have attended the second day too. Ah well, at least I got a glimpse in another world.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Nishat Khan served as the focal point as he was centre stage. As the distinctive India instument player too, he stood out.
Trilok Gurtu used South American instruments among others to conjure up sounds of a storm.
Lily Haydon managed to make the violin sound more angry than mournful.
I liked the fact that the musicians got sounds out of their instruments which I had not heard from these instruments earlier.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Will win this race hopefully
Even karela feels good
TC tempts, will I be wooed?
Behind target, so think not
Gymming in full swing
Triple time spent there
Next week the alarm's ring
Must be heeded.
A change of work refreshes
Albeit for a while, destresses.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Yo yo like, bounce off the walls lean
In dreams alone. Minor aberrations
Leave their accusing mark in lamination
On scales that weigh, assign justice blind
This Spartan existence, I myself remind
Will lead to better things, but as fruit appeals
Chocolate truffle cake, pizza and garlic bread repel,
My social life shrinks, with water alone to drink
The end seems far, far away. Gym feels good
Getting up's a pain, but I like the bed of wood.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Like life. Worth living?
Some argue otherwise.
Lighter in body, if not in mind
Gram by gram, try to rewind
To a slimmer waist, now a waste
memories of bhujiya downed
Invisible masses piled up
To inch towards unhealthy.
Hiking homewards, only to rebound
It is to be hoped I stay mentally sound.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Thursday, July 01, 2010
So far. May not show garter
Wise but gives hope
To trudge on, cope
Am actually liking the fruit
Specially when it bears fruit.
Week one of mental exercise too
Begun, coupled with gym to blue
Drive away. Work wise redrawing
Shapes too. Let's see what the better half
Of this year has in store for this calf.
or should it be these calves?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Fruit so far
Aar ya paar
Flesh, melt already
Am tired of teddy
Water, zero calories
Is my companion
rotis, begone! Wary
Am I of carbs. When
My diet plan
Has sprouts, veggies
A spanner in the works
Are spices, choc lurks
In my fridge to combat it.
Distributed to combat
Temptation. Half a kilo
Down, many more to go.
The journey of a sixty five kilos
Begins with a single gram.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Ghazals in a melodious voice followed- Yeh na thi hamari kismat by Ghalib, followed by Zafar, Daag et al.
I promptly bought the novel and am waiting for the Hindustani translation of The Last Mughal to be on sale.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Little knew of a girl named Nora.
Quiet looking, crabby Cancerian
Happiest when solo aquatican
Whether washing clothes, self or home
Cooking too, watching cells grow, roam
Guitar girl, threatens to flash a Chink churi
Incommunicado often, but does jadugiri
Knowing problems before they arise.
Is it science or is it art?
I just know she’s smart.
Babe with brains, Catholic queen
Hail Mary! I’m glad she’s ever been.
Unwrapped with years, love.
They view us with unjaundiced eyes
Ever ready with solutions, spies
Who divine problems we hide
Artfully from ourselves. Beside
Forcing us to confront scary things
Which once spoken, demand enactings.
Work too, so long live old friends.
When we first met you were another's
I didn't want to share, bothers
But when I heard you're cheap
I took you without a peep.
We met in the dark
When I told others, they barked.
Questions that should've come to mind
How much you were of a bind.
You seemed welcoming, you felt right.
I liked the envy you attracted on sight.
Played hard to get, although not
I wanted you to be my scene, i got.
Moving in, moving on
Just us two, the sun
Learning how I liked you to look
Though getting there, a while took
You brought out parts of me
Good ones, that were latent, see
I basked in the sun, the surprise
Of friends who thought we'd never cruise.
Sometimes you get on my nerves
But that's so as we stay long curves
The hours on the clock. I always
Return to you, so I can hear nays
Yeas in my head, drown the days.
Weekends are ours. In day's many moods
I travel though you, cleansed of falsehoods
I make you up when friends come
So you're praised, so me, hon bun.
When I think of leaving you
When you cold shoulder me, dew
Returning to one that I shared
We are no longer me and you. Bared
New clothes I can be myself
You're hot when needed, cool help
Entertaining friends when they stay
When I must share you, for days.
Now that you're part of me
I don't resent the care you need. Identity
Ours is fused. You'd be different
Without me as I would. No lament
For the missing link. We have each
other. Flat you may be, teach
You have to give. You suit me just
Fine. I look in you now, lust
Imbibed, expelled. You know me inside
Out, just as I do you, house wife bride.
Sometimes when I'm too tired to move
I let my marks on you stay, remove
Them later, although only my eye
Falls on them. I please myself by
Keeping you neat- even if I am not.
Today there is light. The light coming through my door has no such grid. It falls freely, a rectangle big enough to cover me as I write. It doesn’t come everyday and when it comes it is not warm always.
I can cross the grid on the shadow of the window easily; it’s the other way round with real life problems. My mind magnifies them, when in reality they can be crossed.
The window light is about six feet by three feet. It cuts up the tiles even more. I saw a section of light in my kitchen, as if it was being carried by an invisible pipe.
The window’s the vessel through which the sun pours in, filtering, sieving it before it hits me. As I look at it through my hair, I see strands of my hair too seem lighter. The light moves, forcing me to move my bed too, like a sunflower I too am a sun follower, I flow where the sun flows.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I am so excited about my WIP! Holly Lisle's tips on plotting worked like a charm- for the first time ever, I have a plot! Yay! I read the tip, think it sounds too complicated, do it like she shows me, and it works. Last night I wrote for 45 minutes, probably the longest I've done prose for. Didn't bore myself either, in fact surprised myself. Not knowing where I was going had led to dead ends in the past. This way, I wrote 400 words- one scene. This DIY author is highly reccomended. I used her free ebook on plotting.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Also managed a ticket for Naseeruddin Shah directed The Caine Mutiny Court Martial, which had a twist at the end.
Yesterday, I saw Strange Lines, which was...strange. The Indian spoke about India, the Swiss about Switzerland, while images danced on screens behind them.
Capped it off by walky talky from NSD to AIIMS. Google Maps says that's 9.3 km. Wouldn't have believed I could do that on such a cold night.