Wireless Connections

This is an over view of a speck of thought
under which lies a string of untold words
its a play of emotions
which the heart and the mind master...


It sure isn't a mystery
its what makes us so
complete in all its complexity;
and its worth a lifetime of understanding

Wireless connections are
made at birth
grow as we do
alter with circumstances
and strangely, don't die at a burning pyre


One of the few things I've been particularly fascinated by, all my life, is relationships; and how they work. How they weave their way, through time and its affairs, steadily forming a part of our lives.

Enriched with emotions;
new relationships excite,
old relationships stabilize.

We make them
We break them
we love them
we hate them
We're surrounded by these ties,

some bind us
some blind us
some quietly refine us
but this,after all, is where the magic lies..

The Shadow

It's great to see that all of my fellow contributors have posted their first blogs with a brain full of ideas.
My brain is more or less empty...but here it is.

From the dawn of birth, by the hand of death;

The shroud that clings to my being,

Never leave me be still.

From the first step in the sunshine,

To pale corpse under frozen light,

Will it follow me to my last breath;

Shifting colours grey-brown,

Blurred bright around the edge,

But yet with a heart so black.

It observes without emotion,

As I walk the world of colour,

With a laugh, a frown,

A thought, a song,

A dream, a life;

Then what have I to fear,

The dark veil upon my visage,

Sewed strong into my skin,

That hides a heart so black?

With every twitch of hand,

The shroud repeats with deeper motive;

As the eye darts in fevered glance,

It casts its being in hollow waves,

To hide, to blind, to end all peace,

Of mind and soul to its deepest depths.

And yet the lips purse, the eyes close,

The soul walks with doom in its trail,

Cast by a heart so black.

And so, with every step I take,

The shadow creeps across my face,

And hides behind my clear eyes,

Clouding them in hope and fear;

A hope that I could hold it back,

In fear that the world could see it there,

Ripping to shreds the image I formed,

Unclothing the truth that I couldn’t belong,

With a heart, my heart, so black.

Funny Language

Something I found interesting and wanted to share with all of you. Enjoy.

In what other language do people drive in a parkway and park in a driveway?
Why does night fall but never break and day break but never fall?
Why is it that when we transport something by car, it's called a shipment, but when we transport something by ship, it's called cargo?
In what other language do they call the third hand on the clock the second hand?
Why is it called a TV set when you get only one?
Why - in our crazy language - can your nose run and your feet smell?
A writer is someone who writes, and a stinger is something that stings. But fingers don't fing and grocers don't groce.
If the plural of tooth is teeth, shouldn't the plural of booth be beeth?
If the teacher taught, why isn't it also true that the preacher praught?
If harmless actions are the opposite of harmful actions, why are shameless and shameful behavior the same?
English is a language in which you can turn a light on and you can turn a light off and you can turn a light out, but you can't turn a light in;
What is it that when the sun or the moon or the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible; and why when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I shall end it?

The Chimes of Blue…………

A thought swirling through the mind for some time

What’s the reason to wake up …who gives a dime?

Grappling with Jane Austen…is that my fate?

Hated her in college…still hate….

Knowledge and further jargon of the new curriculum

Starting the day with a harrum..scarrum…

How does it matter , really??

The day is busy, busy….the evening is crammed

Bake a cake, write cheque

Read up for tomorrow’s class, has the maid cleaned the brass

Check in everyone’s dinner preference, have a family “conference”

“How was your day?”... “Oh the usual….”

“It was crap…three math classes in a row…”

“ The boss is a *&%##...anyway lets not talk about work…”

Nothing to share…. really?

What about books not read?

What about thoughts not said?

What about moments not shared?

What about joys that have left?

What about how bored you are…in general…?

Our Time Together

They may never know it
And neither may I.
As the days go by,
We will all go our ways.
Bonds forged, now broken.
Our time together,
Willingly shared, stolen;
Moments, now memories;
Our days, spent together.
They stand by our side
Watch over us
till finally, we fall asleep.
They stay till the end,
the silent shadows.
They stay and softly weep.
They will never know it
And neither will I.

Matters of the heART

Art has existed, ever since man himself. And has undoubtedly evolved with him too. Whether it was to serve religious, social and political needs or just to fulfill an artist's own longing for expression - Art has always formed an integral and complex part of human society that intertwines religious beliefs, rituals, social codes, myths, morals and history.



When we talk about art, we refer not just to a purely visual experience or something that’s only a pleasure to the eye. Art is an aesthetic, moral and natural experience. In short, it is an exploration of the most magnificent dreams, demonic passions, intense hopes and fears, the deepest beliefs and convictions including those of life and death and the supernatural.



It is neither science nor fantasy. Yet, it’s an amalgamation of both. It is an expression that often challenges the conventional and makes a statement, bold and authoritative. It captures time and possesses immortality beyond our wildest imaginations. It reflects what is around us, as well as what is within us.



Art has had a long journey of evolution, from being a craft, a fulfiller of socio-religious requirements to a medium of self-expression. When we trace art back to its earliest forms, either to the pre-historic times, the Indus Valley, Mesopotamia or Egypt; we find art playing a role of utility. It aided the requisites of society, faith, rituals and conventions. Hence, it was no different from what we call today- a craft. It was based entirely on skills, proficiency, craftsmanship and technical knowledge.



However, as time progressed, art broke away from craft. The emphasis was now no more on skill. An artist’s own input, his insight, expression and pronouncement was given more importance. Art had evolved into a mélange of individual understandings, reflections of society and different sensations. It broke barriers created by language, culture or boundaries and connected people from different regions, backgrounds and races…It had become an entirely human experience, nevertheless it went beyond that.



On the other hand, it was a long struggle for art to reach this point too. Artists had to break away from strong social conventions and dominant ideologies that were necessary to abide by to make a living. Slowly, as the horizons widened, a search began for new ways of looking at things. And an urge emerged to break down all accepted conventions and perceptions.



Today, art is more than just aesthetic appeasement and accomplishment of master craftsmanship. It intensifies our insight into ourselves and others; it makes us more aware about what is around us. Today, art emerges as the most expressive form of individual creativity that has blurred all kinds of differences and has come forth as a universal declaration.

Finally!

So here I am finally! A space of our very own :-) to gab, chatter, twaddle, tattle, doodle and anything else that we wish to do, (and that is possible to be done), of all things under the sun!

I woke up this morning, first excited, "OMG! My first post!", then slightly stressed, because a few thoughts later, my brain begins to clog- "The piles of homework, incomplete work- deadlines….EEEEKKK! ! !"

"And YOU! You're blogging!" - Darn, what a wonderful way to start the day (…sigh…)

However, after a quick breakfast and a rather long writer's block, I decided to agree with Charlotte Catherine,

"The more passions and desired one has, the more ways one has of being happy"

Because at the end of the day it's immensely satisfying to know how much you were able to accomplish, over the 'so much' that you already had to do!

Firsts are always very special, hence, my first post is going to be dedicated to something really, really close to my heart- Art!

But before I begin with that, there's something I must admit -this isn't easy. For a first-time blogger that I am, there's one question that still daunts me- "How does this thing work?!?!?!"

The beginning..

I suppose it is only right that I have the first say in this matter of a blog. Somebody has to bell the cat......
I shall talk of new beginning and things that we chance upon quite accidently. It is only later on reflection and recollection that we ponder about the what would have beens if not for that one conversation, one person or one opportunity.
As I sat with my fingers poised , ready to type out a string of words about this little project of ours , about its birth and our passionate responce to a chance of being a part of 'Ink Link' , I was reminded of these lines from Great Expectations which we had read.

" Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers , that would never have bound you , but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day"

Isn't this the case with us? If that particular conversation had not happened. If that level of enthusiasm would not have come through, you and I would not be linked in this manner.
Here's to an adventure , both satisfying and nurturing...
Of things great to come , I have an inkling.....