Casino Royale & love

Its truly the best Bond film ever. And of course a sensitive Bond and a brilliant intellect in a girl's body as Vesper goes a long way to make it that apart from the extra-terestrial action sequences at Madasgacar.

Besides. It has a wonderful new take on romance. I wish I had been able to keep it all under control when I was in love, like he does here. I would have WON IN LOVE ! Hands/pants down. But then theres nothing like surrendering to love. Completely. You lose the game, though. Because the no woman you love is a poet/artist, and she expects you to be a man not a Devdas. But what you gain is the EXPERIENCE, which you can never have if you havent surrendered. Just as Kahlil GIbran says.

Secondly, both the protagonists are aware that they are going to make love and its out there in the open in their conversation ! For me its always been the language of touch.

Enjoy.

Mad people

I was talking to C who all call mad. He avoided the word mad. I asked why ? He said it didnt exist in his dictionary. I saw it. The page. There were other words with ma.. When it came to 'mad' the letters had faded as if washed away by the rains of life.

Free sex in India ?

Was going through 'Girl with a one Track Mind' and then searched for some Indian sites on free sex, whatever that means, and came up with some interesting finds. There's practically nothing. Sites show that even the so called liberal people in India are very, very Victorian in their morals and approach in so far as sex is mentioned only in passing. It should not be so. Sex is one of the foremost forces of life and should be reflected in the culture, behavour and all the doings of a society.

The basic needs of a human are food, shelter and SEX. In India now, though it is and will continued to remain a vast melting pot in all spheres, with simultaneous existene of the bullockj cart and the rocket, for most urban people the basic needs are more or less taken care of. The need for sex continues to remain chained in so called 'traditional values', which are in fact distortions brought in by Muslim invaders followed by the Victorian British. I am sure Indians were far more liberal in the Gupta period and before the advent of the Muslims. I am open to correction if backed by historical evidence.

When I was much younger, in the seventies and eighties, I could not accept the total absence of avenues for sexual expression for young unmarried ones. I still cant. Though, I think, the young ones today, especially and because of the liberal attitudes of young females, the scene is much better. I am of course eager for feedback from young ladies and gentlemen (Victorian myself ?).

Between what I write and what I mean

I said 'Poetry is the attempt to capture in words what exists between words'. A Norwegian poet loved that. I would love to have your views on the above as well as my poems. On to poetry.

Commemoration / Post script

A final phone call.

To clear up things
To put on record
my ending of the story.

A date changes character
and refuses to be recognized.
Lines of confirmation
Snapped.

The calendar suggests other figures.
A twelve says, ‘Not me.
It was eight.’
Usually eight is the culprit
Earlier it was four.
My numbers.

But the fact remains
An execution took place.
And my severed head
Was abandoned to cry for itself.

Spring returns

A cocky orange streetlight rudely interrupts
My affair with the early evening sky
Of an ambiguous white or fading blue
With pink fleeced lambs turning dirty grey
A frolicking kite soars wild.

The dry cold north wind turns around
Humid and warm
And whispers in my ear,
‘Its time
for the green buds to unfold their wings.
Is it time for me
To float your dreams

Again ?’


If you go away

If you go away
take my sense of smell
or take the scent of the first rains after summer
that I may never remember
the fragrance of your skin.

If you go away
take my sense of hearing
or take the sound of sparrows
lifting the dawn
to another joyous day of expectation
of seeing you.

If you go away
take my sight
or take November sunlight
lazing on my home street walls.
I’ll need no more winters
in Calcutta.

If you go away give me extinction.