Few days back I went to this pooja/prayer ceremony and I witnessed a major update of lingo. The same happened when we were discussing how Non resident Indians behave when they make Skype calls. Giggle.
This lady who was conducting the pooja, all clad in saffron pro mantra knowing queen avatar started blowing smoke in fire, other good smelling stuff inside and then explained, "You should regularly do Pranayam 'cos it helps relieve you of depression! This was a bouncer! Till date, you'd have them speak of cleansing the body, mind, system etc and purging your sins of some other birth. But, this was new! This is exactly what I had been trying to prove in my paper on authenticity by using English, where English words which were a little obscure or jargon complicated to understand, were used to generate trust and confidence in the product or service's scientificity. Now the same thing with this pooja lingo, where the lady was reinventing and updating the beneficial service to keep pace with its customers. She explained that "depression" is a common phenomenon in daily life because of the increasing amounts of "stress". It was like introducing this whole new paper on "Psycho-rituals". Interesting.
The next is a very commonplace parlance thing. When I get a nice call from my NJ relatives telling me "wassup" with them. This is how it goes:
Relative: Badhu orrite (alright) chhe. (Everything is alright)
Amey hamna "house buy" karyu chhe and "car" bye kari chhe._____ bhai ney "freeways" par chalaavta aavdey chhe. "Gas" bahu j "frikkin" expensive chhe. Ahiya "Spring" chhe. "winters" (roll your r's! quick!) ma bahu "snow" padey chhe!Maara "work" (rrr) no time thai gayo. JSK
Translation: We just bought a house and a car. Mister____ can drive on highways too and petrol here is really expensive. It is spring time here but in winters it snows a lot.It is time to go to work. Jai sri krishna. :)
All this wouldn't sound so queer in English but apart from the highlighted words the rest is usually( say you-Ju-ali)in broken Gujarati. I never quite got why they say all this over and over and Indians here seem to think "house" in America country sounds different than house in India.
There is some yellow paper here and it smells. It smells of white chocolate, dark chocolate, air-conditioned rooms, libraries on winter evenings and sometimes of the old printing press.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
She knows what she wants, at last
Is intestine deep sour and nostalgically pinched in all her vocal chords where a flood just passed by hitting the walls of insane uncertain gestures. I am trying to search for meaning and happiness. i am trying to search for a lot of dependability. She is off to the river banks where the sun sets and the waters are scanty. She wants peace, and understands how the heart suffers. This is what she wants alleviating from.
I have some talking to do
to the self
and some convincing
or there will be a heartbreak of a cloud
and a rainfall of words
have to drag the treasure to the cliff
and see it divulge in the orange brown sky
Take that treasure to the heights
Where everything else seems smaller in the eyes
Where wind blows at a startling Speed
Where u feel there is nothing else u need
Rational Thoughts Amalgamate with Irrational ones
The Outcome of the same is the one
The Solace it would provide would be on a skew
But you would be sure that there is something up new.
At last she wept. And there was rain brimming the roadside cups, the flautist just continued, never woken...
I have some talking to do
to the self
and some convincing
or there will be a heartbreak of a cloud
and a rainfall of words
have to drag the treasure to the cliff
and see it divulge in the orange brown sky
Take that treasure to the heights
Where everything else seems smaller in the eyes
Where wind blows at a startling Speed
Where u feel there is nothing else u need
Rational Thoughts Amalgamate with Irrational ones
The Outcome of the same is the one
The Solace it would provide would be on a skew
But you would be sure that there is something up new.
At last she wept. And there was rain brimming the roadside cups, the flautist just continued, never woken...
I am blue
Yes, I have resurfaced and I was interning till now. I am terribly blue because I miss JYFF and I miss being an all important dependable part of an organisation and doing work that was fun. All those signals and all those hesitant steps. God, the flame, the pleasure of not writing and being occupied all the time. Chi! I can't even write for now. I need balance. Of mind. Of senses, those that were tickled. Go, go. Vanish, out of my life! I don't know you. Do not run after me.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
The perfect Indian girl
I am the perfect Indian girl
With sun burnt ripe hay for hair
And caviar streaks in the air
With orange peaches for cheeks
Reflecting the gory yellow of my noons
I feel heroic with each pigment of tan
When i keep jumping man holes
And fall asleep in buses
My scalp produces a modest proof
I bathe the best on sundays
And my bag may stain with oil
My college dreams are television borne
I can pretend Napoleon never existed
When I nod furiously at my grandma's commentary
I can neither be a capitalist ('cos I don't have the money)
Nor a communist in wanting (by default I have to budget)
I am lauded with the parent pride anthem
And I tend to be 35mm wide and loud in love.
I am loud, you can count my teeth.
But that is how I justify all erratica
With sun burnt ripe hay for hair
And caviar streaks in the air
With orange peaches for cheeks
Reflecting the gory yellow of my noons
I feel heroic with each pigment of tan
When i keep jumping man holes
And fall asleep in buses
My scalp produces a modest proof
I bathe the best on sundays
And my bag may stain with oil
My college dreams are television borne
I can pretend Napoleon never existed
When I nod furiously at my grandma's commentary
I can neither be a capitalist ('cos I don't have the money)
Nor a communist in wanting (by default I have to budget)
I am lauded with the parent pride anthem
And I tend to be 35mm wide and loud in love.
I am loud, you can count my teeth.
But that is how I justify all erratica
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Tragic plight
Yeah, this is about this restaurant I went to. It is an integral part of a mini villa. They hire fol musicians and dancers to perform for the people who come and eat. Of course there is no bar but there is dance and offering of money by fat men and modern women dressed in fancy clothes. I was one of them. The tragic plight is not because of this. There is a deadlock here. These musicians have no other way of gaining a bread based on their talent anymore and on the other hand it feels shameful that they have to get their daughters and wives to dance like animals in a cage and get applause and money while their children are huddled behind the stage half hungry half sleepy. I just imagined myself as one of those young girls dancing and making moves to lure and appease numerous pairs of eyes. Every moment she can feel so many eyes watching different curves and moves of her body with unaffected desire or a notion of superiority. I did not feel right.
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