The view from another side

"Hear the sound of their laughter ringing in the air, aren't they a merry party today? Let's walk with them for a while", I suggest. "Why, you ask? No reason, my dear! We don't have anything better to do for a few hours, do we? Come on now, we will have no trouble catching up with their slow pace."

We follow them at a distance as they cross a bridge. You say suddenly, "Look at the full moon shining ever so brightly! How beautiful its reflection is in the lake! If I stand close to the rails, I can even feel the breeze on my face." In your excitement, you stumble and knock off a bicycle that falls down clanging loudly. "Don't worry, the girls are unaware of our presence. They will not turn around", I reply to your relief. You are young, after all. In our world you haven't even come of age.

It is surreal, the girl with a ponytail exclaims. The red-haired girl runs up to her and clings to her arm. 

One girl drinks something that she finds quite delectable. "It has chocolate and coffee and vodka! Beat that!" The girl on her right is unconvinced, she wouldn't touch the drink. You wonder aloud, "Are they playing some game? I don't understand. They seem to be happy one minute, and hate each other the next". "Ah! These humans are a very insecure race", I reply with wisdom.

They take in familiar sights, and trod on well worn out paths. They recount old stories to gales of laughter. The girl in the green dress realizes with a pang that she has to leave soon. She scribbles a hurried note, jabbering of memories to cherish. She wishes that their last hug will last a tiny moment longer. She gently pries her fingers away from her friend's hand whispering that there is never enough time.

I see kindness in your eyes when you say, "Aren't the young ones lucky to have each other?" I laugh heartily. "Hold my staff, child. We have another place to visit before the day breaks. A postman near Belgrade is out of means to send his daughter to school."

Now losing my mind to Radiohead. Breathe, keep breathing..

One more time

The days I've known you are short
an open book, my mind to you from the start
a face or two, I have seen of your gales
Ah! The few glimpses proclaim many tales

You crossed paths with a few strange men
the stories would fill many pages when you decide to pen
your affection once touched a nerve
Ever so profuse and infectious, is your verve

Akin to me in quite some ways
full of life, charming on most days
beloved friend, so willfully stronger
you inspire me like no other

Yet a million memories threaten havoc
as a pang of warning creeps down the pit of my stomach
wishing for more than stark rhyme
I go through the motions one more time.

Song in my head: Infallible by Pearl Jam

The West Coast: A Sampler

I was chatting with a friend a few days back. The conversation, once edited heavily in my favour, went like this.

Friend: Start some random conversation. I'm bored. Stressed. And depressed.

I (reaching for my phone first thing after I woke up): Hey! The first topic in my mind. Hmm, Pacific Northwest!

Friend (in all probability, banging head on the wall, thinking): Again, why am I friends with her?

I (hiding my face under a pillow in shame, assuring myself): It's really early for a Saturday. I read a lot of geography yesterday, that explains it.

I: You can tell me to change the topic, if you want.

Friend: No, go ahead.  

I: The Pacific Northwest region roughly includes parts of Northern California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho and the Canadian state British Columbia.  

Friend: By the way, why is it still called British Columbia?

I (completely ignoring the question): This region has several mountain ranges including Cascade range, Coast mountains, and Rocky mountains. The Cascades have very dense vegetation. Due to the proximity to the Pacific ocean, the Cascades experience heavy snow and rainfall every year. There are also many active volcanoes here, the Cascades are a part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. The tallest peak in the region is Mount Rainier which I visited last fall. Wikipedia says that the largest single season snowfall in the world was recorded in Mount Baker. I'm finding that hard to believe for some reason.

Friend: Why haven't you shared these pictures yet?

I: I'm lazy... Well here is one.

This place is called Reflection lake.

Friend: Serene! It's hard to think of snow and vegetation together.

I: The trip was so much fun, we were driving and driving. A couple of my friends flew from Austin and three of us flew to Portland from SF. It's another interesting story, but that's for another day.

Friend: Why don't you blog about all this! Why does it always have to be about that venna Vedder? * (venna = idiot/waste fellow)

I (mumbling rhetorically): I don't know, nobody reads.

I (Failing to notice the slight on my favourite musician): Anyway, back to the Northwest. What else do I know about the place?

Friend: The area? Population?

I: Washington and Oregon are politically very liberal. Washington has legalized medical marijuana. The major cities in the Pacific Northwest are Seattle, Portland and Vancouver.

(And then it hit me) Wait, the music scene in Seattle is spectacular. In the late 80s, Seattle gave birth to a subgenre of alternative rock called grunge. It was inspired by hardcore punk and heavy metal. Bands like Soundgarden, Nirvana and Pearl Jam became hugely popular and contributed to the commercial success of grunge.

Friend: Oh! Nirvana too. So, how does grunge compare to metal? Less noisy?

I: Mostly, and less growling.

Friend (laughing out loud): Better description.

I: Soundgarden was the first grunge band to sign a major record label. Its lead singer is this guy, Chris Cornell.

Friend (laughing again): I'll look him up. Long hair?

I: Of course. Check out the songs 'Flutter girl', 'Like a stone', 'Be yourself' (the latter two by the supergroup Audioslave) and the theme from the movie Casino Royale 'You know my name'.

Friend: Oh, that was him!?

I: Yes. (Continuing) On our trip to Rainier, we took a five hour detour to visit the city called Aberdeen, the place where Nirvana's Kurt Cobain was born and grew up. The city pays tribute to the late singer by installing this sign, a reference to one of his songs.

I: Anyway, back to the geography lesson. Let us now venture south of the Cascades.

Friend: South, yes! I'm ready.

I: The next big mountain range we cross is the Sierra Nevada. Fondly known as the High Sierra, the range is famous for towering Sequoia trees and the California gold rush among other things. The famous Yosemite valley was sculpted by alpine glaciers from the ice age.

Friend: A valley from the ice age! It's getting better.

I (rambling incoherently): Yes, it is very beautiful. Wilderness campers and backpackers are wary of the bears this region inhabits.

I: The lack of water in Yosemite falls is indicative of this year's drought.

South of Sierra lies the vast Mojave desert, the driest and hottest place in North America.

Friend: Oh yeah, there is a game that I play! With the cowboys, snakes and tiger lilies.

I (the narcissistic bad-friend that I am): Death Valley has the highest recorded temperature on earth.

Friend (probably angry by now): Oh!

I: Bad water basin in Death valley, at 282 feet below sea level, is the point of lowest elevation in the US. Anecdotally, the highest elevation in continental US is Mt. Whitney which is less than 100 miles from bad water basin.

I: And this is all in California.

Friend: Great place, California is.

I (Is he still angry? Is that sarcasm?): Moving closer to the coast, there are numerous mountain ranges that form the Coast Ranges. Big Sur coast is famous for the windy segment of the highway CA-1 along the coast, where the sheer cliffs drop down to the ocean.

In conclusion, yes I have fallen in love with California and the whole of west coast. In its diverse landscape. In the primal beauty it showcases...

Friend: <Silence>

Yeah, that must have been sarcasm. He was a great listener.. He said he was depressed!

* Dear friend,

If you are reading this, I regret to inform you that I can no longer consider you my bff**, now that you have opened up about your true feelings for Eddie. It's over.

Plays in head: It's all over but the crying by Garbage.

**The BFF spot is now open. Floyd lovers, Nickelback*** haters, and rich people who go to one or more concerts per month and are willing to buy me tickets fairly often may apply.

***I don't really hate Nickelback. It was them or Taylor Swift and I didn't want her in the same sentence as You-Love-Who.

OK, I am just kidding about the spot being open. Not just because of the Europe invite!

Strikes a chord

Possibly the most beautiful song I have heard is 'Echoes'. The song is like a fucking poem!

"Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes
inviting and inciting me to rise
and through the window in the wall
come streaming in on sunlight wings
a million bright ambassadors of morning!"

Mind-blown! What is it that has won me over? The lyrics or the music or the entrancing vocals? After 23 minutes of ethereal beauty the song always leaves me wanting for more. I believe this is how addiction would feel like!

What's happening?

It has been quite some time since I wrote a long post. Or talked to someone. Or did some significant work at office. Or read a long book. Or took myself seriously. I wonder why.

On my best friend's birthday I could hardly speak anything after the customary happy birthday. As I stood in the corridor outside my lab trying hard to make a non-mundane conversation happen, I realized I had succeeded in becoming truly alone.

I have disconnected myself from all semblances of relationships. Until this phase in life, there were always a few people to whom I could pick up the phone and talk as if just a day, not months, passed from when we previously spoke. But at some point of time in the recent past, I seem to have drifted farther and farther. The elastic band which always brought me back to the center by its recoil seems to have broken finally.

I do not have too many thoughts in my head these days. From being a person with multiple layers of intertwined thoughts that served as my bane on a daily basis, I am now moving on to 'not having too many thoughts'. I suppose this is a significant achievement, though I am clueless about its origins. If I had something to focus on, like a final exam or a class project due in a week, I would probably do it good justice without any distraction. But now that I don't have any pressing concern (refer the part where I say I haven't done significant work at office in a long time), I am a little lost.

Earlier, I used to have a variety of emotions close to the surface. There was a band/book/TV show that I absolutely loved to the very core (EddieVedder/LoTR/House was the fucking best thing that ever happened on the planet, EVER). I constantly held a grudge or two (but she promised she would call back 2 years, 6 months and 11 days ago, and that was only the 6th time she forgot). I vehemently hated a few wrong things that some stupid people do (there is no sane reason that a hostel can dare impose a different set of rules on men and women, and the worst part of it all was the girls and their parents who aided these decisions by abiding them. and this was the REASON the college sucked, the country remained backward). I could go on, but I think you get the point.

But now I don't have too much feelings. I am more at peace with myself and the world. Maybe I am just happy, instead of the usual binary euphoric or depressed? This is new.

Well, things are rolling. Let's see where this wave takes me.

Wait a minute! Strike out the part when I talked about Eddie in the past tense. Because, Ed IS the fucking best thing that ever happened on earth! I saw him twice, in a month. Me and a friend, glazed eyes, hoarse throats, all reason lost as he started with Pendulum. I heard him sing black. I was a part of the crowd that sang betterman as he watched along. Love you, Ed!

Now playing: Nothing is playing, didn't you read the post? (rolling eyes) I am in a state of temporary inaction!

In Retrospect

She answered the door and found an old friend
They rested on a swing in the porch
she leaned on her withered shoulders
letting old memories flow unbridled

She remembered when she was young
racing her little brother in the front yard
her mother watched with adoring eyes
declaring them both winners under the fading light

when she played with cowrie shells
building castles in construction sand
falling asleep on grandma's knees
as the old woman told her tales of revered snakes

Bedtime stories from father were rare but rich
She spent nights huddling with her sisters
Through long talks they passed their wisdom
and crowned her queen of the terrace kingdom

Times when she shone like the sun
wearing her heart on her sleeve
she loved the greatness that went by the name Eddie
she watched a humble champion score his last runs

She traveled miles to see shiny cars
go round and round screeching under the scorching sun
she grimaced at a missed chance
to see a legend play The Wall live

Then she grew older and life got meaner
ugly souls she was lost among
Amid the clamor she found one day
a heart of gold that swept her off the feet

She thought of the first time he kissed her brow
his stubble prickling her cheeks
his moist eyes when she promised she would marry him
the last words he whispered in her ear

There was a tear in her eye, not one of pain
alone but not lonely
A content woman it was
that they laid to rest that night.

The clock keeps ticking, and I go back to the present tense. I promised to write something positive, hope I did justice to that. This was inspired by a friend's post on how life would be, looking back from the end. Now playing: Rudiger by Mark Knopfler 

Now what?

How do you let go
when you look down the cliff at the raging waves
Your hands are fiercely clutching
the last length of nothing

Which way do you go next
like the small nail stuck in a wheel
not sharp enough to cause lasting hurt
deep enough to impede the passage

What should you hope for
Heed the kind that teases you
it can silently suffocate, remember
Not all hope is good hope

Knopfler croons in sweet consolation
Floyd seals the trust, working the stupefying charm
Cobain screams in gut-wrenching desolation
Vedder growls, eyes reeking of empathy

You talk in cliches while the empathy kills.

Now playing: Good days by Joe Purdy