A comment from the blog that JUST HAD TO BE PUBLISHED

A person called "Bum"left the following poem as a comment on an old post- Harm No Living Thing .
Even though the original poem was written by Christina Rosetti, I like the one in the comment better. Such spontaneous brilliance must be shared:

Harm no living thing,
Not the bird, the bee nor the snake,
Nor the kangaroo hopping with a spring,
Nor the fish that swims in the lake,
Nor creatures hiding, away from your eye,
Nor the fly, hovering over your feast,
Nor the moth, the sloth or butterly,
Nor boastful man, nor humble beast.

-Bum

Railway Tracks

Standing at the door of a train, I can never resist looking down at the tracks running parallel. I can never resist that fluid trance. As the train passes by, the tracks pick up pace. They begin to glide alongside, causing the ground around it to turn to a smooth blur. They seem like they're racing with the train, or trying to talk to it. Are they chasing after the train? As they sit there on their rusted iron clamps, they wait. Wait to be run over. Wait to be polished by the grooves of a train's wheels.

Isn't it a wonder how something so static, so motionless, transports us and makes us move? It's the monotonous continuity of the tracks that pushes us toward change and excitement. It makes me realize that there can't be change without a firm foundation- without some amount of routine or repetition. Not everything in life can be indefinite. We all need a constant, a fixed point to grow from. But grow from there we must.

You have Zonked and so shall I

You have zonked and so shall I,
A non-committed way to die.
Away from this world and into the next,
Where reality will far from object.
A land where trees are pink and roses green,
Where birds laugh and elephants preen.
Where a rustling wind blows through my hair,
And a queer lady at me does stare.
Where mountains seem to grow beneath,
The earth's crust amidst all its heat.
Where I'm at peace to sing and dance,
Talk, love, frolic and prance.
You have zonked and now so shall I,
Oh, this non-committed way to die.

Slumber

I love you tender, oh sweet, caring slumber
You wrap me in your arms
And transport me without qualms
To beauty, calm and quiet
Away from every racket
I fall in love with you every night
Fight to be with you with all my might
I long to stay buried deep within you
Why do you loosen your grip on me?
The warmth of your breath
That state of near death
You comfort me
I can feel the brush of your supple feathers against my cold cheek
I can feel your dense fur pressed against my body
I surrender to you, I can't help myself
In your layered blankets in the cold
I am yours, forever more.

Soob

There was a young lad named Soob,
Who suddenly grew a large boob.
It grew from his chest.
And annoyed him like a pest,
For over his stomach it would droop.

I'm sitting here with my laptop simply because I want to write. I haven't a topic or idea. But I feel overcome with emotions of every kind. It's hard to pinpoint reasons for them. It could be the plate of paani puri I relished earlier in the evening, or the last few episodes of M*A*S*H I just watched, or my dinner of nutella and banana on toast,or a beautiful movie I watched, or Society that I'm listening to, or loved ones I miss dearly. It's hard to figure whether I'm jovial or solemn. It's an in-between-ness that I find hard to comprehend. Yet, somehow, I feel calm and at peace. A feeling that everything will be all right. That, in turn, makes me wonder if everything is all right presently. When I inspect my surroundings, I realize there's a lot to clear up. (Speaking not just metaphorically.) Isn't life best when uncluttered? I sure think so.

While I was watching MASH earlier, I thought of how wonderful the concept of colour is. The physical phenomena of substances having the ability to reflect every kind of colour but one and the biological phenomena that allows us and other living beings to observe and appreciate them is nothing short of miraculous. We take the magic of colour for granted. Its ability to set a mood, to add meaning to our mundane existence, to define everything it touches, to help us identify ourselves. But over and above all these wonderful things about colour is its best asset- its versatility. Its unparalleled variety that breaks monotony of every kind. I've never met a mood that couldn't be fixed by walking into a room filled with colour. But, again, I speak part metaphorically. People can be colourful. And being associated with colourful people can do for you even more than what literal colour can. Colourful experiences and conversations are what build the treasury of life's memories and paint your dreams and mind.

I'll stop here. Goodnight, minions. Oh how I wish I had some. Little yellow blobs of cuteness bobbing around the house. Better therapy than colour, perhaps.
TaTa For Now.

Three legged friend of mine.

My camera finally has a firm place to rest on. A little platform to screw its bottom onto. 

A place with many knobs to turn.

My camera is tall now. 

Said camera is sturdy now. 

It's independent of me now. 

Woot Woot!

Her eyes

When I point the camera at my friends, I find them making pathetic attempts at hiding behind their bags or the closest person they can find. I used to let out a disappointed sigh and simply put the camera away after these involuntary camouflaging responses to camera stimuli. But I've begun to notice that there's scope for more than just disappointment.

Without all the other distracting features of a human face, taking photos of these cheeky friends poking their heads above their cover with hopeful eyes is my latest fascination. The trick is to focus on their eyes quick enough before they dive back under. Here are some.

 

Malluda

I have this best friend.

She's been my besht-est-type-of-friend since our school days. We connected instantly when we were made to sit with each other in class and ever since we've been like sisters. Wait, what am I saying? We are sisters only.
We have eaten a million fattening meals together, each time saying it would be our last. We've had innumerable sleepovers. In fact, we don't call it that anymore. Her home is mine and mine is her's. Who has a sleepover in their own house? We've bought nearly everything we own together. We know everything about each other. Perhaps, we know each other better than anyone else knows either of us.

I love this woman.

I love this woman and all her quirks. This totally mad woman who came into my life and changed me. Who nurtured the little kid inside me and taught me to never let her go. Who I can always be myself with- unconditionally. Who helped me through all my tough times and who's laughed like a demented donkey with me for the last 6years straight. Who calls to taunt me every time she eats a red velvet cupcake without me and then goes on to send me pictures of it. Who has the most comfortable boxers in the world that I'm hell bent on stealing sometime soon. Who gets my every sad joke and laughs at them like they were cracked by Bill Cosby. Who has encouraged every ridiculous idea I've had. Who fights with my little sister just as much as I do. Who has a twisted and at times, stupid sense of humor. Who is the most talented girl I've ever met.
She also has several loose screws in her head and chews on her nails like she's got chocolate stuck in them but I cannot for the life of me find a single fault in her.
Moreover, I cannot imagine there ever being a time when we wouldn't be friends. I'd feel terribly incomplete and vacant. She's stuck with me for the rest of her cheery life and I'm stuck with her for the rest of mine. But I doubt either of us have any problem with that.

Mallika, me lou. You are the lots of things and also many other things to me- you could say everything. Very special you are in every way. This may have been supremely cheesy but these were things that had to be said. Forgive me for this public display of affection.
I shall spare you any further nail biting or blushing by wrapping this up and saying that there's no one on this planet who could ever take your place because you are just that awesome and monkey-like. Ma behfrand.
HugHugKissKissBEARHUG

Quickies

M*A*S*H

This was a show that my parents used to watch every night at 11:00pm 19years ago. While they were watching, they were also waiting for me- then a clump of cells inside my mother- to turn into a human being. They always spoke about the show nostalgically and I was always curious about it. There was mention of it in Perks of Being a Wallflower, too. Then, one night a few months ago, they caught a couple of episodes of it on air and were filled with excitement. The ingenious idea of renting the episodes on DVD season by season and revisiting this masterpiece of a sitcom sprung. And now, all these years later, with fully developed seeing and hearing organs, I could watch it with them and see what all the fuss was about.

It took me only a couple of episodes to really start loving this show. It’s full of witty, quick, non pretentious dialogue. Set during the Korean war, M*A*S*H (Mobile Army Surgical Hospital) is about doctors of the 4077^th MASH unit in Korea and their lives as the war brings the place crumbling down around them. Having said that, it is a humorous and yet realistic depiction of their struggles there. The characters are delightful. Each one of them is well written with a story of his own, a mind of his own and problems of his own. The story and the characters work together like a well-oiled engine. It’s ironic how a show set in wartime with 20 wounded soldiers being operated on in every episode and guns going off in the background can make you sympathise and feel all that pain and at the same time make you laugh so hard that your sides ache.

Of a total of 11 seasons, I’ve watched all the episodes up to season 3 with my parents. Here’s a brief description of all the characters:

Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce: Supremely charismatic, witty, humorous, warm hearted man who has his head screwed on straight. The best surgeon they’ve got .  A guy who doesn’t seem to take anything to do with the army seriously and is just there to have a good time while he does his job. A guy who knows what’s morally right and wrong and who would go out of his way to help someone who really needs it. A guy who seems to have the right outlook of the war. Also, he is very smooth with the ladies.

John McIntyre “Trapper”: Another stud of the 4077^th and Hawkeye’s best friend. Generous human being with a big heart, great sense of humour and an enthusiastic laugh. Has great command over his work as a surgeon and is easy to talk to. Loveable guy who’s always up to mischief. Again, always does the right thing and ensures he has his fun time. 

Hawkeye and Trapper make one hell of an irresistible duo.

Henry Blake: The unassuming Commanding Officer of the 4077^th MASH. A softy, a scatterbrain. Lost without his personal assistant Radar O’Reilly. On some occasions, lost on account of his personal assistant Radar O’Reilly. Almost always seen in his fishing cap, he’s not one for staunch military discipline and is a surgeon before he’s an army man. His leadership is loved none the less by everyone under him.

Major Frank Burns: A complete contrast to Hawkeye and Trapper. A despicable disciplinarian who’s unfortunately next in line as commanding officer. Having nearly no sense of humour, he’s the butt of several jokes and pranks. Ambitious and stingy, he considers himself the only true patriot on the premises. He’s not the best surgeon around and is constantly teased in the operating room much to his annoyance. 

Major Margaret ‘Hotlips’ Houlihan: The head nurse of the 4077^th, she’s headstrong, confident and patriotic. She enjoys discipline and finds it hard to tolerate nonsense from Hawkeye and Trapper. She’s perhaps the most masculine of all at the MASH but she can be as vain as a little girl. Attractive with a good heart, she insists on following military rules but has a soft spot for doing what is right when she needs to. 

Also, Hotlips and Burns have a secret relationship that everyone knows about.

Corporal Radar O’Reilly: A short, enlisted 17 year old assistant to Henry. He’s an innocent and efficient little man with a bottomless stomach and a keen love for all animals. He’s attached to Henry like a son is to his father in the most subtle way possible. He’s the owner of two adorable dimples and is perhaps the most easily lovable character there is. 

Maxwell Klinger: An enlisted member of the 4077^th, he hates the army and the MASH and spends his days trying to be sent home under the army’s Section 8 law. He tries to secure his section 8 psychiatric discharge by dressing up as a woman and trying to prove that he is mad. All his efforts are in vain but he never gives up.

Father Mulcahy: Innocent and soft spoken, he isn’t taken very seriously around the place. He’s very understanding of everyone’s problems and is partial to no one. An absolute darling, he’s the most pleasant personality within the compound.

Now, I will come to the reason I began telling you all of this. It has to do with the last episode of the third season. It began with Radar rushing into the operation room with news of Henry’s discharge from the Army. He was going home! Throughout the episode I was hoping that something would make him stay back but there were no Bollywood twists to the story. Calls to home were made, packing was done, celebrations followed and finally with a parting gift of a tailor-made suit from Hawk, Trapper and Radar, goodbyes were said. After a formal salute off and some sweet but good humoured last goodbyes the next morning, he got into the helicopter that would fly him to Tokyo where he’d board his flight back home. As tears filled Radar’s eyes, I began to mist up too.

The next morning, Radar stumbled weakly into the operation room with news. News that Henry’s plane was shot down. News that there were no survivors. 

I couldn’t help but cry in utter disbelief. It was bad enough we wouldn’t see him anymore in the seasons to come. Why did they have to kill him off? Sure, they were trying to prove a point. A point that war is cruel. I didn’t realise until that moment how much I appreciated and related to Henry’s character. If one were to ask someone like Frank Burns, he’d enumerate many faults in Henry’s character and leadership like his haphazardness, his lack of punctuality, his laid back attitude to some military laws and how he doesn’t hesitate to have fun. But even Frank Burns would (reluctantly) admit that he was a sincere human being with a huge, generous heart. You couldn’t possibly dislike him. I can only guess that it must have been emotional shooting the last scenes of that episode knowing they wouldn’t be shooting with Henry again. 

I’m not ready to watch the next season without Henry just yet.