Interview

So what do you do during the phases when you have no muse
It is difficult to manage life
It feels like the void is emptier than ever
But then for how long does it go on like that
Till I convince the muse to come back
Explain to her that its a bit difficult for me to exist without a muse
Its not that easy to find a new muse you know
But its getting tiring now
How many times can you expect your old muse to crawl back
Most times, she doesn't, right
Then there is no liberation
No catharsis
It feels like hanging on a loose thread in a parallel universe
You can hardly avoid people then
When there is catharsis, its easy to ignore useless parts of life
It is like walking with your blinders on
Everywhere, all the time
It is easy to extract moments out of life that way
But now I feel old, really old
And a bit tired to succumb to the temptation of tempting the muse back
Cant even go out looking around for a new muse
Its not like you can place an ad for a muse in a newspaper
Right
Yes, you are right
Why do people call this state 'writer's block'
I don't know
Well, I don't know either
It should be called I-have-no-muse-state
Love and muse can be different you know
Or same
For me they were some
Now I am not sure about both
What was it that made that person your muse
Well, that is not a polite question to ask my friend
It was mainly her poetry
Which in turn was inspired by an invisible muse
I hope I never meet her muse
I would have if I didn't love her at the same time
I will try and not fall in love with my next muse
If I find one
I am too old now
Might die soon
Would have loved to write some poems before I die
But that muse of mine has left the house now
I lock the doors at night now
Don't want her to enter when I am not prepared
Actually I don't want her to enter ever now
May be
So whats the plan now, till you actually die
Will pursue decadence
Pure false pleasures of life
I think its time
But I would have loved to write more poems before I died
Okay. So write to me if your muse comes back
Or if you find a new one
We will do another interview
*Both Smile*

Anticipation

Well, Alfred Hitchcock might have exploited anticipation to his advantage, "There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it." Somehow I have never thought of anticipation in a negative way. Infact, it is undoubtedly my favorite feeling in the world. It is way better than any actual moment to follow, however great the moment might be. Its even better than the lingering memories of the past because they are so certain. Whereas, anticipation is so open-ended. It is like any empty railway track. Backpacker's solo trip to a new place. Dark clouds. Sealed envelopes. River, yet to be merged with sea. Sea, waiting for the moonlight, an impending date, little girl's blue eyes that I met in the local train, autumn leaves which have not yet felt the ground, new umbrellas that haven't touched the raindrops yet......

Recommendation of the week

This week's recommendation is 'Heima', a documentary on the Icelandic band Sigur Ros which returned to Iceland to play a series of free, unannounced concerts. Honestly, I did not even know about Sigur Ros before watching this out-of-the-world documentary.

There are just so many things which you should watch this documentary for. First and foremost is definitely the music, which is commonly and universally described as "ethereal" and I simply do not have a better word to describe it. It has this awesome pristine quality to it. I could actually, and I really am not exaggerating, feel it running in my veins, dissolving gradually. It is really beautiful.

What made the documentary more special is the way they have managed to capture Iceland's gorgeous landscape and merge it with Sigur Ros' music and make it one. The music and the landscape are entwined like two soulful lovers. It is so beautifully shot. Each and every recording, live performances, interviews.

It is an ABSOLUTE MUST WATCH. It will most definitely stir up your senses and incase you were unaware of Sigur Ros' music till now, like me, you might just make them your official favourite band. Just watch a beautiful world with the most beautiful landscape and the most melodic sound unfold in front of you as you watch this. Enjoy

Watch the first part here

On a rainy day :)

Something romantic about this day.
About the weather,
about the music,
about the colorful umbrellas,
the creased raincoats,
this gorgeous scene from my office window,
this vast expanse of sea,
this humble rain trying to assimilate itself in the sea,
dirty shoes,
water puddles,
morning reading of Emily Dickinson love poems,
someone who might be in Paris right now,
or Amsterdam,
chai in disposable plastic cups,
cigarettes,
coffee,
laughter,
chatter,
the canceled party,
clogged railway tracks,
glistening trees,
pigeons in the hiding,
a song by Gulzar,
smudged makeup,
Blue nail paint,
Orange t-shirt,
and yellow rain boots :)

Shut up and scream

One half of your soul is paralysed
So shut up and scream
So shut up and scream so loud
So fucking loud that those in the gutters can hear you
After all, it would be their prayer
A tribute to the half soul that is not paralysed

You sick bastard
You follow the world blindly from morning to evening
Only when the night comes you are not scared
You are not scared to fly on top of the skyscrapers
To jump around in cesspool of pure dirt and grime
You then butcher those who kill you during the day

But how does it matter
You would resurrect them again with the sunshine
You would worship them
You would rub their backs with your trembling hands
You would sleep on their feet
You would giggle with them
You would ignore the paralysis
You would drive through the gutter
You would scream but you would not hear

But then the night would come again
When you would mercilessly kill them again
Incinerate them
You would invite your gods to celebrate
And your beloved would worship you
You, after all, would be the ultimate hero
The paralysed soul would ease up a bit
It won’t clutch you again till the sun touches the earth

But when it does
It would you whip you so hard
So fucking hard with a lash
You would hope you lived no more
But then you will get up
And come what may
Come what may, you will bring them back to life
One by one
With your tender loving hands
And with your half paralysed-fucked up-useless soul!