Random Ruminations, Too

Today

Even before I open my eyes,
My arm stretches out
To gather the air next to me.
Thin and cold and empty
Of your existence.
Yet I pull it closer,
As if I can squeeze out
Some traces of you, from last night,
Still floating in and out of my head.
-
Even before I want to open my eyes,
My hands find each other in a rub
And try, desperately, to create
The warmth of your body.
Not that I don't understand
How things are,
I can see, clearly,
Even with my eyes shut,
How it should be.
-
And then I open my eyes,
In a complete compromise
Of a thickened air
And a thinned heart.
And a hope that your face
Will fill the space
Between my hands
To replace all the memories
Of cold, reluctant mornings
Spent. Just spent.

harneet, 10:04 AM | link |

Riposte

It shouldn't end as such.
The rhythm as much
As the reason for the two
Of us and what we do.
For what we write and how
It makes sense now
As much as it
Always to us did.
Silly, strange and never sad,
A problem we have never had
And so we should cap our rhyme,
For any reason and over time.

harneet, 7:29 AM | link |

Eating Out in Delhi

Where we happily eat our words.

harneet, 7:43 PM | link |

BLOG YOUR STORY: ACTION HEROES ONLINE

8th March is International Women's Day.

Last year the Blank Noise Project came up with a blog-a-thon that asked you to blog stories of street sexual harassment, which was picked up by bloggers across India, and soon in different parts of the world. We shared stories we had never shared before, sometimes stories we thought we had long forgotten, stories that we had often wanted to bury. We read each other, we linked to each other and we linked back to the BNP blog.

We were touched by each other's stories, moved by them, and, we like to imagine, drew strength and sustenance from the the long, cross-cultural chain of shared experiences. And it's this strength that we're asking you to share experiences of, with us, on March 8th, 2007.

Share. Talk. Inspire. Understand. Tell. Speak. Hear. Be heard. Narrate. Voice. Throw open.

When did you flip a situation so you could resist, when did you give back as hard as you got? When and how did you choose to confront? When did you become an Action Hero?

This is an attempt to understand how different women (across age groups/cultures/communities) have dealt with street sexual harassment in their everyday lives. Male bloggers are encouraged to share stories of women in their lives and how they have dealt with street sexual harassment. Non-bloggers are also invited to participate - email us your story.

Got any questions? Email us at blurtblanknoise@gmail.com

harneet, 9:18 PM | link |

Déjà Vu

This is how it goes for us,
We get stuck invariably...
I cannot take my words back
And you just won't answer me.

harneet, 12:36 PM | link |

ROCK GARDEN

They come because they have obviously heard so much about the place, because thats the done thing. You go to Chandigarh and you go to Rock Garden.

(How can you not?)

So they come in hordes and they trudge along the stone walkways with a pained expression on thier faces, nary a glance on the sides, eyes eagerly awaiting the elusive exit. They will stand next to the waterfalls, between the monkeys, pose, clamber up, shuffle down, strain, endure, appreciate the 'art' and ride the swings but they don't understand why they should be there.

(Its a mad place, alright.)

I am still undecided if its a 'poignant' statement against the industrial pace of this world or a reluctant acceptance of the inevitable. Either ways, it challanges the accepted notions of beauty that we believe in.

(How sucessfully so, I am not sure of.)

But theres always something new to see. So, I go there again and again and again. In fact, I've gone there almost everytime I've gone to Chandigarh. Some curse me for dragging them along. Others are almost always sympathetic, as if they really understand.