It's only in a world that you have constructed that you have the right to destruct; now do you dare destroy?

All that isn't real
all that you orchestrated
piece after jigsaw piece that was set in their right place

All that you regret
all that makes you cringe
words and glances you can never erase

All that is sad
all the burden on your back
bruises and tears that perennially hold you back

All that is vile
all that lives by sucking out your marrow
screams and whispers that haunt from the graveyard

Are all yours to destroy were you the mighty creator.

Thus I am putting an end to this old blog and moving on to wordpress. Find me at https://iwalkthelongroad.wordpress.com/  The can't-call-me-n00b-anymore blogger that's me can't find a way to deactivate this blog.

Acknowledgment:
Thanking Pink Floyd for Eclipse.
Thanking John Irving for semicolons. 

Once

She once wrote poetry
in the pages of a pristine book
adorned it with a petal from her garden
carefully blew off the dew and walked away

He wanders in a library
opens the now decrepit book
reads those words in the fading twilight
runs his fingers across one last time and walks away

The spark was only ephemeral
brightly lit up the world while it lasted
but the rose petal is nowhere to be found
for it is long lost in the annals of both space and time

Song in my head: Pendulum by Pearl Jam

Of Humans

We ache for a human connection
For a hand to hold when dancing with the waves
For an ear to whisper as we lie on the sand
Under the blanket of a thousand stars in a distant beach

We tread mighty mountains on blistering feet

Desiring to brighten someone else's day
In return seeking mere acknowledgment
Often in vain, in all wrong places

We yearn to come home into arms that clutch strong

To love so much that it hurts sometimes
To trust someone enough to let them free
And to know we will be missed when we truly leave

We strive too hard to touch another soul

To leave behind footprints on the sands of time
But all it takes to erase those fragile prints permanently
is one paltry wave. (Behold!)

Now playing: If you want me by Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard

2014 Goodreads Reading Challenge: Part I

I had set myself a seemingly impossible target of reading 42 books last year. It was a miserable failure as I ended up reading less than a third of that. So I decided to tackle the same goal again this year and attack it from the first month. Halfway through the year, with a good collection of non-fiction and literary fiction in my shelf I haven't disappointed myself. (And that is saying a lot.)

Here is a list of the books that I have read in the past 6 months, and a few lines or more if the book left a lasting impression. Writing reviews is not among my few fortes, hence the post will not be of much use to the reader except as an insight into my great mind. In other words, this post will not be of much use. 

1. Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl

Frankl is an Auschwitz survivor and a psychiatrist, and the book is a bit of both. His portrayal of the daily life inside the Nazi concentration camps was as powerful as I expected. I skimmed past the psychiatry part of the book fast.

2. I promise Not to Suffer: A Fool for Love Hikes the Pacific Crest Trail by Gail D. Storey

I grabbed this book on a whim from the New Arrivals section of my library. It is an account of a 50 year old woman who hiked the PCT with her husband. In this book, I found a new love for California and the whole of West Coast.

3. Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively

Ah, the first heart-breaker of the season. Random notes from when I was reading the book: "Claudia comes across to me as being quite bitter. A tiny reflection of myself perhaps? Is this how I'll become at the end? A grumpy woman who believes she has seen it all and dismisses anyone less stronger.."

This Man Booker prize winner is narrated by Claudia, a war correspondent who looks back from deathbed at bits and pieces of her life. Initially, I found Claudia to be very conceited, and the book to be too rambling but it became more coherent as it progressed. At the heart of her character Claudia is agonizingly human, despite what her bitter exterior shows. I dearly wish that I would feel toward another being something akin to that which is described in these lines.

"She sits there half-asleep, seeing little, just his hand on the driving wheel, a brown hand with a scatter of black hairs between wrist and knuckles; forty years on, she will still see that hand."

4. The fault in Our Stars by John Green

A teenage love story with many honest moments that surprised me into giving it a 4-star rating.

5. The Cider House Rules by John Irving

Another chance find in the library that blew my mind, a stellar work on abortion, orphanage life and to a lesser extent on infidelity and molestation. I recommend it to anyone looking for a classic that is more relatable than your typical Dickens. Strong characters - check; controversial themes attacking society's morals - check; powerful language - check. 

Some of its lines hit me straight in the gut, and they hit hard. A testimony to the language part:

"What is hardest to accept about the passage of time is that the people who once mattered the most to us wind up in parentheses." 

6. Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

A highly regarded tale of African culture that I did not find to my taste.

7. A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail by Bill Bryson

I took another stroll in the American forests, this time on the East Coast. Bryson proved to be an entertaining and knowledgeable guide.

8. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer

The book spoke to me more than the movie did. And the movie had Eddie Vedder's music.. I can envisage myself reading this tale of young McCandless walking alone into the Alaskan wild many more times. 

9. The World According to Garp by John Irving

This international bestseller about the fictional life of a feminist and her bastard son who becomes an accomplished writer challenged my views on extremism, feminism, sexuality and infidelity. But at its most tragic moments I was left rolling my eyes at the comedies of life. It was not an easy read but it was well worth the time! My respect for Mr. Irving's writing grew manifold with this. 

10. A Sliver of Light: Three Americans Imprisoned in Iran by Shane Bauer

A true account of three Americans imprisoned in Iran. Quite disarming.

Here is an excerpt.

11. The Swell Season: A Text on the Most Important Things in Life by Josef Skvorecky

I decided to read this book because of the band 'The Swell Season' whose name was inspired by this book. The book will probably not appeal to you unless you are looking for stories of a lustful, Jazz loving teenage boy in Czechoslovakia during WWII.  

12. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

A mildly informative book about the origin of the immortal HeLa cell line, not as much about Henrietta as I'd wish.

13. Ten Days in a Mad-House by Nellie Bly

A very short and brilliant read. A journalist cheats her way into a mental institution to procure an inside account; and what she finds shocks the world (all but the cynical ones).

14.  A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers

Dave Eggers is a novelist, publisher and also a philanthropist. In this memoir he paints a poignant picture of his early adulthood in San Francisco which revolved around being a guardian for his 8-year old brother, after they lost both parents to cancer. Don't be fooled by the pompousness of the title, the book is a terrific run through Eggers' mind.

15. The Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales by Oliver Sacks

Intrigued by the title I started reading Dr. Sacks' collection of case studies of his patients with neurological disorders. It turned out that I was not too interested in neurology.

16. 1984 by George Orwell

I finally got to reading 1984, George Orwell's dystopian novel about socialism gone wrong. The book is a classic for a reason, it is still relevant in 2014. 

17. Animal Farm by George Orwell

A review described it as a children's version of 1984, I agree. I enjoyed the book nevertheless.

My favourite: Moon Tiger

One book that I'd recommend unless you are Deepti: The Cider House Rules 

One book that I'd recommend if you are Deepti: Read the whole damn list. Wherever it differs from yours ;)

Next in my reading list:

1. Cool Gray City of Love: 49 views of San Francisco

2. Love in the Time of Cholera 

3. The Bridges of Madison County

And I dream on

I have spent several hours pondering on growing old, the latest occasion being a few weeks ago when I was walking on a deserted beach.

At a point when there are many more decades behind me than ahead, would regret be the foremost thought in my mind? Would I still shrink my face in disgust that regret should be the first emotion that I even consider?

Would my path be partaken by some stroke of luck leaving memories of contentment to withhold? Would I still be a dreamer of improbabilities? Or would I have lived long enough for one such thing to cross over into the realm of reality by sheer statistics?

The only thing I'm certain about is that I would still be a crazy over-thinker :)

Anyway, if I have a chance I'd love to come back to this place on a day when panicking about bug reports is a thing of the past. I'd watch the sunset from this very bench, with a glass of wine to accompany me. Or whiskey if I'm particularly feisty that night. Mark Knopfler's Rudiger would surely be playing. As the sun sinks into the Pacific, I'd hit replay and close my eyes.

And hence I dream on!

P.S. @Aravinth: Me: 1 | Stereotype: 0  

A weekend at Yosemite

Third time's the charm, they say. There is no such adage about the fourth time, but does the writer not hold a license to modify these to cater her writing needs and avoid resorting to additional clauses? Case in point: It is my fourth time at Yosemite National Park; or the third time in less than a year, to use the third-time-charm-thing. I am resting on a rock, legs stretched ahead, debating with myself the can's and can-not's of a novice blogger. I shield my eyes from the bright sun as I look up straight at the sky. The sound of the water gushing through small rocks on its way to the eventual fall is quite reassuring and the idea of another post takes shape in my mind.

Let's go back a week in time to one of my run-of-the-mill Monday mornings in the lab. For most part of the hour left between e-mail replies and lunch I am switching furiously between social networking sites. After "productively" wasting several minutes in discovering Murat Morrison's blog on Quora, I check my Twitter feed and leap in excitement at this.

The greatest lookout of the natural world, Glacier Point, will open at noon in @YosemiteNPS: http://t.co/RmIQEpXrXv pic.twitter.com/a6HYK4S9l2

— SFGate.com (@SFGate) April 14, 2014

At once I call my roommate and we waste no time in sketching out the weekend plans. A few days later we start to Yosemite early (for a particularly bad hangover) Saturday morning. A seemingly never-ending drive later we reach the national park late afternoon only to find a throng of people and a panic attack. We attribute the crowd to spring break and the onset of an early summer; the panic attack to discovering that we don't have with us a memory card for The DSLR. 

While we make salvaging plans that included, potentially, a 2 hour drive to the nearest Walmart, we realize that we don't have enough time to find parking, catch a shuttle and then start on a hike. Unfazed, we alter our (non-existent) plan and head to Glacier Point. En route we stop at the Bridelveil falls which reaffirms my ability to slip on firm ground and my fear of loud kids.

Once we get on the Glacier point road everything is suddenly very silent. We pull over at the first trailhead that we encounter and meet a short trail to the Sentinel dome. The trail was perfect - hardly any people, patches of snow, expansive views of the valley, did I mention there were no people?

In case the reader has noticed, yes, that is a photo of a random road taken from inside the car and does not bear any significance to the trail.

Around sunset we reach Glacier Point, possibly the most beautiful place I have ever seen. I am out of words now and urge this picture that I stole from Wikipedia to say a few on my behalf.

We laugh at the full 4G AT&T coverage 3200 feet above the valley and I silently thank my friend for being there, for sharing my travel instincts, for making no fuss when plans invariably go wrong.

The next morning we start early, after I wake up from a dreadful dream involving violent dogs, unruly teenage boys and tragic hope for impossible futures. Now equipped with The Memory Card we stop at the quintessential Yosemite photography spot, Tunnel view.

Our next stop is the crux of the trip, the guitar solo of a 70's rock song, if you will. The Mist Falls! The trail starts with a short mildly steep stretch adorned with breathtaking views of mountains of granite. We then climb a few hundred steps with every step I am worried of slipping down and breaking an ankle. As we climb closer to the falls we get drenched in its spray. Talk about beautiful! I don't understand how I have been to Yosemite thrice without coming here, one of the most crowded hikes in the park. 

That's where I am now. The top of this falls.

I experience a multitude of emotions, deep respect for the mountains shaped by ice age glaciers standing tall against all tests of time; gratefulness for my own fortune to be in a place five thousand miles away from home, and love for a beloved friend whom I miss the most of all. For now this will suffice. No more thoughts, no more alarms.

Song in my head: Wherever there is light by No-Man.

I should have known!

We once strolled along the same trail
one we didn't share, one for which we didn't quite care
to walk away from the path, never did we ponder
deliberately unaware, of the treasure that lay yonder.

When we reached the inevitable fork our paths drifted

I tried to scale new heights, sliding down many slopes
you were always there to silently support
picking myself up, I knew we had grown better rapport

Our roads are now a long way apart
I peer backwards, trying to look through the past
the search for old records ends in a prized find
as the memory of a cheerful voice fills my mind

So high in drama, surely I should have known
that we had no choice but to end up good friends.
"The word starts with G and ends with L
such obscenities you'll never hear me spell"

Song in my head: For absent friends by Opeth