Colors

Raining Colours

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where you talk a million syllables of silence, where there is a profound meaning to a leaf drifting in the wind; where every second takes on an divine mission; And in a neon moment, the banal act of the spider lunching, mutates to a tale of survival, instinct and the way things are…

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where your intellect craves like a hungry child for a bosom, where there is a dearth of opulence in the crowd around you.

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often

That phase where you repress the urge to break into fragments, where you find yourself alone in a crowd…And in a flash of wisdom you see everything blazing sulphur brilliance-It’s raining colours…

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Matters of the heart!

“Archana, tell me what do you really like about him?” My friend PN just want to make sure that I made the right choice…

Hmm… What do I really like about him? His love for his family and the fierce pride he has about his father. The way he gently teases his mother and how she acts annoyed. Having a brother’s protectiveness for his sister the struggle he had to let go of her. The difficulty he faced to accept someone else in the ‘protector’ role. A profound respect that he has for his brother – in – law which was earned by that amazing gentleman over time…

I love the way he seeks out my hand, the gentle pressure of his arm on my shoulder. The way his resolute brown eyes sparkle with laughter and darken with passion; his big palm that stays firmly on the small of my back when I’m boarding a bus or climbing up the stairs; Strong legs that walk many a mile just to meet me… I like watching him look at cars and admire bikes, cheeks rising up in a faint smile of approval, eyes glistening with excitement, his chest rising and falling in tune to the thrill. For all I know he could be that little boy in Ooty racing his lone tyre downhill!

 It’s all about the way he loves life and each day. Facing it dead on with fervor and faith, he never fails to keep me afloat.  Many years back, my good friend Sophie and I had a long discussion about flaws in people. There is no such thing as a perfect person, is there? We agreed that flaws can either be like holes in a boat or like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle… The ship can sink or the puzzle can be completed by binding it with several other pieces.

 In his case, neither is the hole big enough to cause damage, nor is he a difficult piece to fit.

God truly has loved me much.

I hope that answers your question PN!

Men – 101 (Lesson 1)

Raj walks into the lobby of the famous interior decorator’s office.

“This is a nice place Archie. Let’s just pick a color and get out. There’s a match on ESPN I have to catch”

Sigh!

“Allo! Bonjour… How are you? It eez nice tho meeeth you Cherie!” A very french and a very gay designer welcomes us into his beautifully furnished office space.

“It ees vonderful no?” His cheerfulness is catchy. A definite positive and joyous vibe surrounds him…

My friend Raj looks over at me. Raj is not homophobic. Thank God for that!

Homophobia has become a fashion statement for testosterone deprived, fickle minded men and women on a gossip diet these days. It’s a relief to be around someone who doesn’t need to pick on someone’s sexual preference to make himself look macho.

“Hey I have to get back home to watch the match. Can we rush through this?” Raj fiddles.

“Oh Oui, but ufcourse, let me ge ze color palette and ve can v0rk on eet”

“Actually I just wanna make it cream colored or something”

Our designer flinches like someone sand papered his behind.

He walks over and hands us one of those circular color pallets each.

“this ees a color veel. Diametrically opposite colors are complimentary colors. They give bold…err… contrasting…ze brilliant” Raj ducks, the flailing arms barely missing him.

“like…er… Amber and India Green, you kno, dark lava and perzian blue”Picture from: keenviewdotcom

His fingers are a blur as he points to diff fuzzy patches of color on a giant multi colored barcode kind of art work behind his desk.

“Colors that are ze voisin…er.. ze neighbor no? Next to next. Zey are pleasant…relaxing. Like ze salmon,orchid and eggplant make ze nice scheme. You take your time and come to me no? You speak in ze next room sil vous plait?”

Mr.Fancy colors ushered us into another room where Raj sat in shocked silence.

“Well I’ll be fucked!”

“Hey!”

“Sorry boogs… but what the hell was that? India green? Persian something? That racist bastard. I don’t get it”

“Dude, you’ve been watching Russel Peters”

“Screw that… He is talking about A FISH-A VEGETABLE-AND-WHAT I THINK IS A FLOWER. Do YOU know what he is talking about? What’s with this wheel?”

“Relax! There are instructions behind it… “

“Instructions?” waving the sheet at my face, “Men don’t read instructions…Our colors are programmed like windows default.” Counting out with his fingers “Red, blue, green, yellow. Fruits and animals have their own damn names. I got a game to watch. You and Monet here finish up”

Lesson 1 – He may have all the colors of emotion, but a little over 14 basic colors might actually piss him off

My Tabard

Courtesy:Deviantart

Courtesy:Deviantart

Just Twilights and dusks cutting through the perennial night.

My Tabard is empty.

People all around: Laughing, crying, whining..

Swapping promiscuous encounters, tales of regret, singing swan songs stepping over bones in the dust…

My Tabard is empty.

The window complains… Leaning out I see the serpentine road in the moonlight – mocking, jeering

2 in the place of 29.

figure of eight – reef – hitch – figure of eight… Hurry

B***h Slapped!

I went pink for a day!!!

I went pink for a day!!!

Well… that is what my friend said after visiting my blog today. <piercing whiney voice> “Why It’s pink! It feels like you’ve b**** slapped me”

Nah, for that I’d have to make you hear your voice… I think to myself.

Now, I’ve battled this all my life – PINK and all that it stood for.

When I was a little girl my world was in monochrome, colors did not fascinate me, climbing trees and falling off stuff did.

Then my world changed to windows default settings – few basic colors. I knew that plum was a fruit, wondered if salmon wasn’t a fish and thought turquoise was a bad word. I hadn’t given a second thought to pink.

And then, D came into our lives. D is a wonderful person; gentle, caring sensitive, the kind that remembers your birthday… the best friend types and oh so gay! It was D’s morbid attachment to everything pink that gave me my first ever case of ‘heebedijeebies’ (a term used my a wise man named King Julian to describe a rather unpleasant feeling). It was then that I started to run from pink and everything it stood for.

According to him, pink was not only a color but a symbol of his socio-cultural identity, a verb (oh he was totally pinking on me), an adjective (oh what a pink feeling!) and a replacement to any word his brain could not figure out…

“(sniffing)they os.. os.. pink haters (waaaah…boohoo..)”

“Ostracized you D?…”

Everytime I see a guy with a pink shirt , a pink scarf, a pink shopping bag … a little bell in my head rings “gay gay gay”.Three times I tell you, like divine intervention…I quote one Mr.Johar “Pink is the next black… I think it’s hot!” I rest my case.

I also thought pink associated with piglets. (D thinks they are ‘precious’) pink ,pink, pink, oink oink… see?

Well, applying the same theory last week, I realized – God is pink! He is loving, forgiving, sweet (c’mon say it aloud) loving, forgiving, sweet, loving-forgiving-sweet… hearts-flowers- butterflies…. candy-apples-sugar.. pink-pink-PINK! What a smooth transition!

Being a single woman, I had vowed stay away from men riding pink scooty peps, sporting pink towels on their shoulders or seem to teaching the alphabet ‘u’ to another man at close quarters. I plan to keep every one of them.

But, I have renewed respect for the color, If God is pink, it musn’t be so bad after all.

So here I am, trying to b**** slap my karma balance back into shape. It has taken all my stength, will power and sanity (what’s left of it) to sport a pink blog.

But I shall do it with my head held high.

And someday when I meet you in hell, I’ll tell you about the look on your face right now!!!!

Raining Colors…

There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often…
That phase where you talk a million syllables of silence, where there is a profound meaning to a leaf drifting in the wind… where every second takes on an evangelical mission…And in a neon moment, the banal act of the spider lunching, mutates to a highfalutin tale of survival, instinct and the way things are…
There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often…
That phase where you crave company like a hungry child for a bosom, where there is a sense of opulence in a crowd. And everything around flashes in sulphur brilliance
There is that phase of life that revisits you ever so often…
That phase where you repress the urge to break into fragments, where you find yourself alone in a crowd…And in a flash u realize… it is raining colors…