How I spend my weekend?

Usually it is a sit-back-at-home-and-read weekend. With so many books around me at home: on the sofa, on my computer table, under the blanket, over the pillow, in my reading list, I can hardly imagine a different setup for the weekend. And why, I love the smell of books, I sniff them frequently, they entertain me, they take me to different places, they feed my intelligence, they talk back, they amuse, they enlighten, they may be gods. Yeah, I’m not going anywhere on this weekend. Leave me with my books and forget me.

Then there are movies. Although they are released every Friday, I prefer watching them only if they’ve been rated high by a good number of movie buffs. IMDB is the website I visit most to check out the reviews/ ratings. Only a 7+ pointer will make into my watch-list. No, even a 6.9 does not. So, I have a long watch-list of all time 7+ pointers, mostly from Hollywood; I feel Bollywood is weak in producing 7+ pointers and only an Anurag Kashyap one would interest me. I’ve covered most of the Top 25 of the Top 250 list of movies on IMDB and I’ll soon finish watching the Top 50. So, yeah, if I don’t have a book in my hand, I would most certainly be on my laptop watching movies.

Then, there is music. Oh, my Scarlett 2i2 Audio Interface works magic and it’s a studio music recording that I prefer after books and movies. I’m not much of a singer, so I compose music with my guitar and try to record it in a good-enough voice. I simply love what Glen Hansard plays on his 25 year old guitar and he is a top class singer; I’m sure he’ll snatch another Oscar soon. So, if not composing fresh music, I cover Glen’s songs or listen to them in loop; soothes me.

But, then, there are always relatives out there who want to invite for their children’s birthdays. There are marriages going on at weekends, even Sundays are not spared. And in case there are no such events, the relatives cannot figure out how they spend their weekends and call me to their place for breakfast, lunch or dinner. So I might just visit them occasionally; weekend gone; no books read; no movies seen; no music made.

Now, once in a while, I get too excited about wandering, and because the weekend begins Friday night, my back-bag is packed Thursday night for 2 days and 2 nights somewhere in the mountains. The beach is not very near from Delhi. While in Karnataka, Mangalore was my favorite weekend spot. Merely 110 km from Hassan (where I was posted), Mangalore was the nearest beach place. Now, being in Delhi, I long for a Goa trip, but a weekend is not enough for Goa; it should take a good 5-day week. So, some other time, maybe.

Thanks for reading.

A Journey To Motherhood

I was a kid back then

and now a mother I am
and it's been a journey
beautiful enough for me.

Learned in chunks
the lessons of life,
now teaching 'em all
back to my child.

When unborn to this world,

I still had dreamt of him.

And now in my arms he lies,

It's hard to believe my eyes.

Tiny little hands on my face,

On my lap, his cheek he keeps,

And hide and seek he plays,

Between my fingers he peeps.

Of wonder and full of awe

Are his acts of innocence,

And naughty, mischievous

His omniscient presence.

Morning he wakes up

First, before sunrise,

Keeps me on my feet

All day long, all night.

And he would continue

His nonstop natural process,

With his never ending games,

Of turning things into mess.

Only God knows his ways,

Little monster that he is.

And when he is in full form,

The entire world is but his.

the wine and the dinner

the wine and the dinner,
and the dinner and the wine.
I roam around in time,
in time, I roam around.
I feel so light, I babble, I whine,
I whine as I write these empty lines.
merely to fill in these lines, I write.
I do not feel a thing, I mime,
I mime myself in search of time,
in time, I search my grand sublime,
sublime that I am not able to find,
and so I stay with the wine and I dine,
and I eat my dinner, and I have my wine.

- Praveen Singhmar.

Transition

Drops of rain
Hit my office window
One by one, each
Stays for a while
And evaporate soon.
The window glass barely
Retains the outline of rain.
 

Hey look, clouds on ground!
It's June, it's cold!
My clothes won't dry.
Taste some wine or take brandy.
Play folk music or listen to it.
You bought a new guitar?
Great, it's a half day!

Baby, my phone caught water.
Buy me a new one or lend money.
I'll make love to you, passionately!
You ain't bored in this small town?
I'm glad I found you.
Your hands are soft too.

Let's share the bed and divide rent.
Home is far, so not yet,
Think less or don't think at all.
Work on yourself, for yourself.
You must sleep well at night.
And your eyes mustn't shy
Away from your mirror.

Nobody shouts at me,
Nobody, how dare you?
I got stuff to do.
So, see you!

Let's measure the map.
States after states,
Cities after cities.
I skipped a few.
I've had enough of you.
I'm a misfit here.
Let's run, let's live!

Purple plain of transition,
From blue to black,
From violet and red,
And a yellow friend,
You can bank upon.

Patience brings to you
Its fruits of time and
Sometimes it's good to settle
Down a little, and stay subtle,
And focus on your dreams,
And ponder over your plans.

But for how long?
And how far will you go?
How much more will you drag this
Puppet face faced against you will?
Enough! Enough of it! No more!
Oh! But, wait! A little more!

And let's suppose we kept waiting
For a Godot who doesn't care,
For a chamber of flowers that never bloom,
For a lightening that ceases to spark.
Oh, yet, you must wait!

You must do it.
There's no going back from here.
You've come too far.
Don't try to defy your destiny.
It's time.

But I was a free
Bird with wings that fly,
A coloured butterfly,
Garden of joy,
Happy toy.
Anyhow, it's time.

You're one lucky dog,
Fortunate as fuck.
Forefathers' blessings come true.
Peace, tranquility, freedom of a kind,
Only for a while.

Then a sudden blow
Shattering sown dreams.
Just when you thought you'd walk free,
You've been tagged down to task.
Nothing new,
It happens,
Shit happens.

Everything is for good,
The stars and the moon,
Time heals soon
All those wounds it could.
And so we move along
With the winds of life.

This transition is eternal.
Divide and become two,
Multiply and then dissolve
Into one whole being,
In time and in place.
This transition is eternal.

But the past doesn't fickle.
Past, the part already spent,
Is a constant, remains as it is.
And to itself it adds time,
Moment by moment,
Memory by memory,
It succeeds in its establishment.
Past is supreme, something
You cannot doubt.

And yet we look towards the future
In hope, in anticipation
Of betterment of a new thread
For healthy and happy transitions,
And so I bid goodbye to you,
And wish you life.

- Praveen Singhmar