...

I cannot think.
Life is at a standstill.
I'm waiting on something, I don't quite know what.
I'm living in half light.

Somebody save me.
I will weaken, I am
I just need to be held, if only for a while.
Because I'm living in half light.

I don't want understanding,
I cannot get it
I don't want solitude, I want nearness
But I'm living in half light.

Something is terribly wrong, I shouldn't be feeling this way
I'm surrounded by nightmares
Someone take them away.
Please.

I cannot continue living in this half light.

In Loving Memory

Heath Andrew Ledger
April 4,1979-January 22,2008.
( Aged 28)
Actor/Aspiring Director.



I am at a loss for words. The news of his death has shaken me to my very core. I believe I am in stages of denial. A reality I somehow refuse to accept. I keep replaying it like a scene from a bad movie. For me, this seems like a set up for a long vacation. I know the flood gates of anguish shall soon break open. I will mourn.


The cause of his death, going deeper than just the physical cause, I believe was the severe psychological trauma he suffered due to the roles he played in his movies. In 'The Dark Knight', (another in the Batman series) the last movie he was shooting for, he plays the joker. It affected him. Ledger was one of those actors who got into the head of the character he played. He did it with an honesty that is raw and appealing. But this time, it got to his head.The psyche of character got to him and he couldnt get out.

To prepare for the role he lived alone in a hotel room for a month, formulating the character's posture, voice and psychology. He started a diary, in which he wrote the Joker's thoughts and feelings to guide himself during his performance.
He described the role as , "physically and mentally draining", painting his joker as “psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy”.
He was also given Batman: The Killing Joke and Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth to read, which he "really tried to read but put it down". Heath also cited inspiration in 'A Clockwork Orange' and 'Sid Vicious' .Ultimately, "there’s nothing that is consistent", as his main objective was to frighten the audience.

Ledger received critical acclaim for his role, ''Ennis'', in Brokeback Mountain and also an Oscar nomination for best actor. My first memory of Heath is from 'A Knight's Tale' , I was enchanted by the story and the idea of him. (or was it his character? One could never tell) .

"The challenge was to capture the stillness of him. I have kind of semi-frantic, nervous energy. Harnassing that was something I thought I'd have to work out. Shooting in the wilderness, the stillness became like this innate quality." - on his character "Ennis" in Brokeback Mountain.

Almost everyone around me seems unconcerned. If I were to express my sorrow, it would only be to myself and perhaps one other. And 'practically' speaking, why should I be upset? I did not know him personally. All I did was is appreciate his art, his work. But I felt a connection with him at a personal level. I do believe we all have our bonds, a certain type of attachment with people we appreciate, even though we do not know them, at a 'social' level.

The following is a link to the trailer of ''The Dark Knight'' , watch it. You will be left reeling at sheer fanaticism of his portrayl of the 'Joker', the intensity that was him. There are rumours the movie might not be released. I hope it does, for I want us to appreciate Heath Ledger and the talented genius he was.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaIR9dAZRR0


The man was brilliance and perfection, at its best.
I honor his memory.

Heath, you will be missed.
R.I.P

Love

The Urban Rural Woman

(class assignment)

Sprawled across a side street in Janpath, a Gujarati colony flourishes. There is a long stretch of men, women and children selling beautiful, hand made garments. One face calls out to me. She smiles and gestures at her stack of clothes, I can't help but smile back. Her name is Geeta and she is a devout mother, wife, daughter-in-law and business woman.

Geeta's family comes from a small village near the district of Daang, in Gujarat. Ironically she has never seen her ancestral home. Her parents left their little village to make a life for themselves in the big city. They settled down in Chandigarh and that was where Geeta was born and raised.

She proudly tells me of how she has studied till class X and that she was a bright student. Geeta was married to Vinod, a young man from Delhi. She then moved with him to Delhi to start her life as a wife and a daughter-in-law.

The couple work very hard at selling traditional hand crafted items that they get all the way from Gujarat. Vinod travels to Gujarat every month to bring fresh 'maal' and is hardly ever at home. Geeta handles the sales and the family. She sells kurtas, lehengas, bedcovers etc.

What is striking about Geeta , in particular, is how happy and content she seems with her life. I can see it on her face and in her response to my questions. She is very open, talking to a stranger, me.

She has two children, a girl and a boy. Alisha,10, studies in class V and it warmed my heart to hear of Geeta's aspirations for her daughter. She laughs and says that her husband probably loves their daughter more than their son.Their son Abhishek is 3 and goes to play school.Geeta confessed her husband wasn't very keen on educating the children and believed they would do better working with the family but she stood firm and insisted on schooling and to top that tution!. The children both have tutions because their mother feels it is important to keep the children busy while she works and so that they can have some extra learning.

I ask her about how the trade works with so many stalls side by side, there must be much competition? Her reply is pleasantly startling. They are relatives! Each person there is somehow related to another. Be it an 'chacha' or a 'tai ji' or her 'sasurji'.
Though they do not want to have fights over customers with the extended family, she says sometimes it cannot be helped. And when that does happen, the senior most member of the clan is the decision maker.

During the course of our discussion, she wears a 'ghoongat' and partially hides her face. I ask her why and she smiles and explains, it is a sign of respect in the presence of her elders. Her brother-in-law is seated right next to us.

The last question i ask her is cliche but important. ''Did you ever see something more for yourself? Are you happy with your life as it is right now?'' And without a hint of hesitation she replies with a nod and that smile. She explains, '' Haan hum khush hain. Din ka gusara ho jata hai. Bus mann mei yahi iccha hai ki bacche kuch ban jaye''. On further prompting she adds, '' Apne aap ke liye toh kabhi sapne nahi dekhe but in ke liye dekhti hoon.

And this is the story of Geeta Kumar, a woman making her way in a 'man's world', a woman who is modern in her ideas and traditional in her lifestyle. The perfect mother, wife, daughter-in-law and business woman.

R.I.P

I'm confused,yet sure of what I want,
of You

Distance and space

But you'd rather have me withdrawn
from Love ,
from Grace

Can't you see
How you break me
and
take from my being
the deepest of
Hate

I have none to give you,
Nothing at all

What I'd imagined
was Love, twas Lust
The only Sin
I fear to want and
fear to trust

You felt it too, didn't You
The one thing we had in common
The only thing new,
to Us

Its gone now and i'm done with you my Sweet
leave now 'fore i fall
all over again , in Hope
in wanting you back
because

I Hate you , my darling
so bury my Heart
and end it at that.

Dated January 15 , 2008

Halfway into the first month of the 'New Year', I feel a sense of urgency, of anger and confusion to some extent. Certain issues that were never 'issues' for me before have suddenly taken center stage.
Having been pushed from the protected life i had at school , to college, has played a major role. There is so much of freedom and ten times the responsibility that comes with it. I'm out of the house more often than not and i spend long hours travelling to and from college. College, they say is the time to experiment, experience and learn much about life ,yes. That's what I've been doing as well. Though my experiences haven't all been of the pleasant kind.


One, if i may call it so, phenomenon that bothers me no end is eve teasing and misbehaving in other words leching. It's everywhere. There's no escaping it. I've faced it and have been horridly shocked. Surprisingly even though one hears of occurrences of molestation and teasing everyday ,in all honesty we remain passive towards it. Primarily because we hold on to the firm belief of ' It can never happen to me'. I felt that way too, I was wrong. I've had men of all ages and class pass remarks or misbehave in some form or another, whether it is to whistle or make that ANNOYING kissing sound (which makes me want to clobber the imbecile till crimson flows) or just make comments that are so absurd i must stop and laugh. There are so many aspects I'd like to elaborate on, but for now i will stick with what happened today.



My best friend (Ambica C , the ''soul sister'' heh) and I were discussing this today on our daily walk and were completely fired up by the end of it. We have much to say and there was so much anger building up , we were looking for trouble. I'd really wanted someone to just try and tease or even say something disrespectful to us and we've have pounced and kicked some serious butt. We were on a mission.

I call them the ''Dhoom Machale Boys'' . You know those 'studly dudleys' , who walk about with the ever so tight, stone washed jeans and the skin fitted tee saying 'F.B.I. -Female Body Inspector' (idiots) , to top it off the gelled Salman Khan 'Tere Naam' look and the metallic 'bling bling'.
BUT today was not our day. Bah.
Having walked all over my neighbourhood ( and others) till it was dark we had no luck finding someone,anyone to blow off our steam, we gave up. Imagine on this day, of all days, no one decided to ''act like a duuude''. It happens everyday on other days.

Dejected we started walking home. Being the watchful person that i am (not), i did not realize a car was following us..! * scary music* Ambica did and she pointed it out. I instead of subtly turning to look, walked right up to the car, knocked on the window and asked , ''Koi problem hai kya?'' waving my hands like a crazy person. Turns out there wasn't a problem, so we walked on.

The description of the guy in the car - (this might be a bit presumptuous on my part but oh well!) The typical computer engineering college graduate, this guy fit the bill. From the clothes to the glasses to everything about him. Really. He was a bit creepy though, the type that obsesses over profiles on orkut. Uggh.

He turned off the lights on his car and started inching towards us , and every time we looked back he would stop and pretend to be looking for a house. (very bad stalker skills, i could teach him a thing or two. tsk tsk)
Having circled us three or four times ,he succeeded in completely scaring us. We were on a deserted patch of road and thanks to the MCD, the street lights were off. Turning the corner to my house, we made a run for it.

AND THEN something clicked and i stopped. Why were we running? We were two of us and there was one of him. Luckily up ahead was a florist and we crossed him and stopped.

The 'car wala' drove up to us and stopped right beside. He stared for what seemed like forever. I got out my phone and dialed 100 , surprisingly calm and collected. He rolled down the window, stuck his head out and then his hand, he had a rose. Said , '' This is for you, please take it, friends ban sakte hai? ''.
I scowled ( a natural reaction , apart from the fact that i dislike roses) and replied, '' I'm dialing 100''. He smiled and nodded, '' Nai Nai, aap baat kariye, mai nahi rookunga, bus ye phool le li jiye''. I was under shock, was this some MLA ka beta? Why was he not scared stiff of my calling the police?? Then it struck me and i said( in a matter of fact tone) , '' Dekho bhai, main police ko bula rahi hoon, thane jaana hai kya?'' .

And it was a sight. His eyes bulged as big as car tyres, the hand holding the rose was whisked back in to the car , the tinted windows rolled up and he drove off at the speed of light.
Left standing in a cloud of dust, Ambica and I were smiling. We had finally gotten what we were looking for all evening.



I bet you're remembering the times you've had experiences similar to this or worse and you're wishing you'd hit back (not literally) but just given the guy a solid telling off and if required a slap or two. You should. Let them know you will not stand having your comfort zone and personal space invaded. I know I will retaliate from now on. I hope we all do, and stand together to fight for something that is as basic as our right to live with dignity and respect. I hope it makes a difference and helps to change things even a teeny tiny bit.

P.S And yes I won't be silly enough to take on 10 guys, i will then run for my life and come back with the cavalry and a vengeance!

Bollox

''You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know''

The lyrics to this song have always struck me as something to dwell upon and there is a story that goes with it. We all have our own stories to tell. Almost all of us associate different music/songs with certain emotions,memories or people. Somehow through each song we can see some part our life,our story and identify with it. This may make so much sense or no sense to you at all but im pretty sure it happens to all of us, subconsciously or not. I too have a story to tell, in particular relation to this song.

Music has been an integral part of my life ( as it may be for millions of others) but somehow i feel this special connection with it. There are certain songs i call my own :) which is absolutely absurd you might say, but i shall hang on to my claim. When someone gives me a song, whatever it may be, i always tend to associate it with that person. Whenever it plays, i think of him/her. It's funny really, cause your most favourite song can remind of the last person.

Anyhow, back to the song in question. 'Don't Speak', I believe was the song that brought 'No Doubt' onto the charts back in the mid 90's ( I was 6 years old then and completely clueless).

DISCLAIMER : There is plentiful of random information here, feel free to ignore it.

So my story goes,...

Incomplete.
Blame it on the writer's block , i say.

His Nocturnal Whore

His Nocturnal Whore

Awakened, his senses numb
tosses and turns
to nightmares succumbed.
She calls out to him.
This mask of dusk,
luring him into the night, into lust..
They say she changes when the sun goes down
Your favourite worst nightmare.
And again, she returns
His aide
Granting what he wanted,
superficial happiness oft made.
Glorified noble, like love
shameful nonetheless.
She too fights a battle,
with herself.
She is what they made her,
His nocturnal whore
forever.

This is was written at the spur of the moment. It makes sense though, if you think about it. Most of us are marionettes in one form or another.
- Meher B.

Greetings

I seem to suffer from something larger than just a writer's block. It's almost as if everything that comes to mind, slips away in an instant and if i don't have a pen to get it all down just then, its gone. I write when i want and what i want. It comes in waves. One can go months without a creative or unexpected thought. When suddenly one 3 am you have so much to say, so many thoughts racing through your head, so much to want to scream out loud and question and then, it ends, just as abruptly as it began. It's madness. But a madness i love and cannot do without.

This blog is an attempt to capture those thoughts, opinions and feelings. To try and align them into something that is universal and comprehensible. To share them.