Music is something that connects one to the soul. Not just of oneself, but even to that of the instruments and the players/singers. Its a strange communion that leaves one feeling light and loved. It may or may not have words. Words, one may or may not understand. It still feels the same. Mostly.
The Colour Purple is depressing. And I depressingly love it. The characters are raw and innocent. Their sufferings genuine and heartbreaking. I will finish it soon and not know what to do.
Theatre has, and will always be my first love. I love the stage at my feet. The wood creaking with each step, urging me to move and conquer it. I have done it before. Its time to do it again. Soon.
Appreciation for poems varies the most I think. What one might think is a masterpiece, will turn out to be a piece of rubbish on which another can wrap his/her chewed gum for disposal. Its actually fascinating, more than frustrating, at times. I think a lot depends on how you read it. The intention you give it. Unlike prose, where the author has an overstated meaning for each line, poets like to leave everything in oblivion. If you like to paint yourself in that oblivion, you'll breathe it and survive.
Choices are something we all complain about having in reduced numbers. We never get enough to choose from. This can't be relative deprivation if it is universal.
There is something so comforting about old hindi songs. Actually anything old for that matter. Photos. Books. Friends. Coffee shops. There is a pervading sense of security. I may be wrong, but I don't feel it now.
I am engrossed in Arun Kolatkar's poetry. He writes the simplest things in the most beautiful way. Who ever thought the description of a baby being bathed would be a fantastic theme for a poem! I love him and will continue my affair with him now. Adios.
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