Last Evening : Old Friends , Memories , And Much Wide Eyed Listening

"I met my old lover
On the street last night
She seemed so glad to see me
I just smiled
And we talked about some old times
And we drank ourselves some beers
Still crazy afler all these years....."

- Paul Simon

A decade , when you are twenty years old , is (yes, I know you can do the math) half a life time...lol.. Quite a long time to remember someone you have had no contact with.

It's been that long since I last saw the scrawny, quiet , bespectacled kid that I held in secret admiration , with the unwavering awe that is only inspired in a ten year old.

Time can change things drastically - The scrawny kid , I discovered yesterday , is now a tall , good looking (I always knew he ,eventually, would be) , twenty-three year old guy. The glasses have disappeared and I noticed, much to my delight , that he has a positively divine smile.

So, No, He (obviously) was'nt an old lover.(lol..though , perhaps , five years down the line , I would'nt mind being able to look back and confer that particular distinction on him...lol.. ;-) )

But I did meet him on the street last night , He did smile , and I was so glad to see him. We talked about some old times and we drank ourselves some rather non-alcoholic drinks. Although , I'm sure he might have preferred otherwise...Lol...It was great. Meeting him.

I don't think he ever knew that he was the object of my very innocent , childish adoration. I was never the sort of girl that bandied her feelings about to all and sundry. Mine stayed strictly in my own mind , any kind of display was mortifying. In some ways , I guess, that still has not changed. Well , so atleast it was a good thing that I did'nt have to deal with him remembering me as the pesky kid who threw adoring , bashful glances his way. Thank god , I was'nt that kid.

His parents and mine were old friends. We were also neighbours . We went to the same school. We spent a lot of time playing cops and robbers and all the other silly games that kids play - Him , his younger , idiot brother , my younger , idiot brother and I . That was until he moved to the U.S permanently. After which I lost touch with him completely. Ironically enough I kept in touch with his brother, off and on ,atleast. His brother came back to India every couple of years. This chap did'nt. Or rather , has'nt . In ten years.

Like he mentioned several times, It was so interesting to see how time has altered so much. Things , places and people in our distant memory seem so much better,so much more exciting and so much more taller respectively...lol

Before we actually met , I wondered if it would be awkward , if we would have things to talk about , if silences would be prolonged , or worse still , if the urge to fill up the silence with inane conversation would wash over me and that I would bore the bejeezes out of him with my seemingly endless prattle.

Mercifully, all my fears were unfounded. (I think) The conversation flowed easily. I did'nt feel the need to engineer or direct the conversation and possibly make an ass of myself in the process . Or search my brain frantically for something , anything to talk about . True , at first , we spoke as strangers. But there was this strange bond that I suppose I can only explain by saying that it comes from knowing someone as a kid. Even if only , that that bond is one held by some vague memories and some not quite as vague ones.

My memories of him , or rather memories of which he was a part of are quite varied. But for the most part , I remember him as the boy who included me in the boisterous games of the neighbourhood boys , despite the fact that I was a mere girl..lol..
He did it in the quiet , firm - "Eyy, let her play da..." , kind of way - No fuss or show. He constantly rescued me from his silly brother who bullied me endlessly. And I guess that in itself probably earned my eternal gratitude , if not admiration . I remember him once telling my dad , " I'll look after her , uncle.." I think it was when we wanted to cycle to the park which was a couple of kilometres away and my dad was'nt too sure if it was safe - At that point I recall being suffused with the kind of smug joy that you can so unashamedly feel only as a child. It's such an innocuous incident but it has stuck in my memory...I doubt if he remembers any of this. I did'nt , could'nt bring myself to, ask him if he did. Because it means much more to me than it would to him. Strange. The amount of fondness that I feel for someone from the oh-so-distant past. No I think , it's fondness for the memory of him and the times which he was a part of.

Now, he is the absolutely fascinating (atleast he managed to keep that image for the 5-6 hours I spend with him yesterday...not a mean task, I should add) guy , that in some vague way , I always pictured he would be. The advantage , I've always found , of being a relatively reserved person , is that you can achieve this air of enigma that a lot of people find very attractive. It makes the people you are around curious about what you think about everything - simply because you are not particularly forthcoming about it. At any rate , that's how it is with me.

And so , we talked.Well, He talked and I asked lots of questions and listened.I discovered , that his life has had such a vast amount of experience. Yes , yes , we all have experiences. But his are so diverse and rich , on account of the fact that he has immigrated to a different country , travelled all over the world - in his short life- met so many different kinds of people. I could go on..

So, with my earnest-but-I-don't-want-to-look-too earnest look that I am wearing , I ask him a million questions about his life. For a change , I want to talk nothing about mine. We talk politics , culture , liberalism and host of other things. I hear about his years at Purdue and the exchange program on which he went to Oxford. About the british political science professor who smoked a pipe and said..."Alright then , laddies..." ever so often. ( that he mimics oh so cutely) . About his current course of study- A Masters in Maritime Archeology.

Uhhh...Yeah...Diving for sunken ships and all that..People still do that..lol...He did a bachelor's degree in anthropology and archeology . When he tells me that , Im surprised. But it's not just his choice of career...It's all this vast amount of knowledge that he has..It was great to be able to talk to a guy who had travelled so extensively- he's backpacked for all over England , Ireland and Europe. I suppose travelling alone gives you a lot of perspective about culture and everything.

We talk about the most dangerous kinds of bears- the time when he saw one when he was hiking...how he turned and " Didnt exactly walk back" ...lol..And about surfing in adelaide , where he's studying now , and great white sharks and how one of his neighbours got eaten by one...

Yes, I know , I probably sound star struck...But personally speaking, I have never met someone with such a rich amount of experience of the world. And it was absolutely fascinating. In a way , it makes me feel like my life has been so freaking empty and devoid of any real LIFE. But I guess , it was great - I think I probably spent most the evening and dinner , with my face in hands and my eyes wide open - attention completely held. I seemed to forget , at several points in time that it was'nt just him at the table - That his brother , who was also there all the while , was probably hating the fact that I listened perfunctorily to him and waiting to get back to talk to his brother, who was hogging all the attention...Not intentionally even .Even my parents , who have met so many interesting people , were quite charmed at dinner. He was polite and funny - respectful..lol...I sound positively dizzy...lol..

In any case , the night , however enjoyable , came to an end. And yeah , this time around, there were noises made about keeping in touch and all of that...I don't know if that will happen. I doubt it. But I'm thinking that maybe ten years down the line - or perhaps sooner , I'd like to meet him and sit down and talk about all the stuff he's been upto and maybe if my life gets a little more off the beaten track , I could contribute to the conversation. Maybe his life won't be as fascinating to me , a couple of years down the line , as it seems to be now - Hopefully because I would have experienced some of it myself and I won't be so naive and star struck anymore...

And then I can look back at last evening and it will be a part of the memories and we will talk about it...and I will tell him I fascinated I was with all the things he talked about, how it infused me with so much determination to get myself out , to see the world....And with the ease and comfort of old friends...we will talk of our old school and how the buildings seem less imposing now and how those were good times , when we were kids. How nice it is to meet old friends.

On a completely different note...

Oh..To be young and in love...

Intoxicating.

More Meanderings And My Favourite Poem

I have always been drawn to beautiful language.And what better manifestation of that than Poetry. When I try to recollect when the fascination began ,I realise that it's been there for quite a while , right from when I was a school kid. Back then though, as far as I remember , I liked it because of the rhythm and the rhyme, and just because it was a little different and I understood it better than the other kids. A silly reason , but one that has sustained my interest over all these years ,long enough for me to begin to enjoy it for it's actual beauty and wonder it inspires in so many.

It always came easily to me. Poetry, that is. And I took to it all the more for that.I loved the metaphors and the meandering ,the eloquent descriptions that were meant, if only, to evoke vivid images in one's mind. I loved that I could get it when no one else seemed to it. Lol...I loved impressig my teachers..This one in particular especially...He was young and really handsome (your eyes are popping out..yeah I know...In madras...but he was) and spoke impeccable english in a deep baritone(which was good enough reason for me to fall in love with him - he turned out subsequently to be a womanising bastard...but hey you can't be perfect...lol) and we were all totally spell bound when he read out a poem. (lol...So mister Godfrey sir , if you ever read this...Thanks..You sparked my interest..).

(I remember reading Shelley and Walter Scott and all the nice ballad-y stuff , which had such nice rhyme schemes and everything, way back in 6th standard. In fact , some years I remember solely by the poems we did in class...How weird is that..lol..I never somehow took to indian poets until very much later..I guess 'cos translations did'nt really rhyme..lol..anyway, I got over that...Thankfully.)

Eventually , my liking for poetry ceased to have anything to do the person spouting it and became a more of a pride thing. Yeah , well , you see..since all of my friends were total geeks , and I guess in that respect I got left behind , they would be the ones explaining stuff to me. The math or the physics. And my way of helping them back , my means of restoring my image everytime I needed their help , was to explain language.

(Uhh...we needed each other's help 'cos in 11th and 12th we had such horrible teachers in school that it was better that we tried to figure things out by ourselves than to inflict the torture on ourselves ,and endanger our future thinking capabilities by letting them have anything to do with the injecting of any kind of information or ideas into our brain...)

Perhaps it was just that my friends had no patience with it. I don't know. They seemed to dislike it so much. English was a chore , just something to be gotten over with. And Poetry to them was the worst of it , It was something to be mugged up if need be and thought about just enough to answer questions such as "What do you think the poet means when he says..?" And even , then it would be me who would be frantically contacted the previous night (no one ever studies english except then dummies) before an exam to come up with answers to the obvious questions.

And I was the authority.Well ,that is to say, in my class, in school. Ok so you did'nt come to me when you could'nt figure out a math problem , but I was the official english tutor for the entire class. And that being the case , and my pride being at stake , I could and would never bullshit. I'd think about things , what they meant from different points of view and everything and give the geeks their fair exchange for all the times I needed their help. Maybe that was even why we became friends , at least at first it began as a symbiotic relationship. (Isn't that true vishnu??)

However, even after I left school and after my first year in college , when I was no longer obligated to read poetry , I found myself increasingly gravitating towards it. I cannot claim that my exposure is deep or even wide. But what I've read so far , has left me thinking , musing ,pondering for days on end. Just like other things I've read , I guess , only the difference being that this drew me on a more emotional level than the stuff in books.

Some poems have haunted me. And I can't help repeating the lines over and over again to myself, like the tune of a song that gets stuck in one's head.Because they have struck such a chord. Some have been so cynical as to have left me quite disturbed. Some, I've even found, can be a source of so much mirth. (like this poem I put up on one of my earlier posts by E.E cummings).

But the poetry I like best is the soulful, romantic kind. I'm a sucker for it and can lap it up in quantities that many people find quite nauseating. In the beginning ,I was'nt particularly discriminating. After a point though , you learn to see what makes a Poem brilliant , when in fact it maybe saying something quite similar to any one of your dime a dozen pop ballady things.(uh..Can't believe I actually mentioned both in the same sentence...Gods of poetry , please do not caste me into eternal hell...lol)

So, yeah I totally trip (A friend of mine would have me say "Get off to.."..lol) on Shakespeare , Byron , Yeats , Browning..The acknowledged and established greats. But if there was one poem , that I had to pick , that was my All Time Favourite...The one that really moved me , that I love , that I recite in my dreams because it haunts me so much , it would have to be "Tonight I can Write The Saddest Lines..." By Pablo Neruda...I've only read one compilation of his poetry...the one from which this poem comes. But I know I will probably love it all.

Anyway, I've been reading this poem a lot offlate for some reason. And I can't get over how beautiful it is. I don't know if you will see in it , what I do , or what loads of other people probably have...But there are so many things about this poem that I relate to so well...Anyway , no description of mine will do justice to it so I will just let you read it ,if you will..

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write for example, 'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to a pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.This is all.

In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain,but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

-----------

Hmmm...I guess poetry is an oft repeated subject on my blog and I suppose I might have even mentioned the same things I've said here , in a previous post. Bear with me though , It's just a reflection of how "into" it , I am.

I just re-read this poem and I can't get over how awesome it is...Anyway , offlate I've taken up reading poetry again , I had stopped for a while in between...So , well , if you have any suggestions...

Tell Me Your Dreams??

There's this really old and popular song , if i'm not mistaken , sung by buddy holly ,that goes as follows:

Dream
Dream dream dream
Dream
Dream dream dream


Whenever I want you, in my arms
Whenever I need you and all your charms
Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream
Dream dream dream

I can make you mine
Taste your lips of wine
Any time, night or day
Only trouble is, gee whiz
I'm dreaming my life away

I need you so ,that I could die
I love you so, and that is why
Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream

This post has nothing to do with the song except the title...All I Have To Do Is Dream...and the fact that dreaming really seems to be my prinicpal past time or atleast my most favourite one off late.I know that they say that if you want your dreams to come true , don't spend so much time sleeping..(this holds for awake dreaming too..so maybe we should say if you want your dreams to come true , don't spend more than ten minutes dreaming everyday)

It can get pretty scary because , as time goes by instead of dreams becoming more of a reality....they seem to remain more unreal. And then like the song goes...you realise that..."Gee whiz, I'm dreaming my life away.."

So I decided that I would list out the things I want do in my life , so I don't lose sight of them ,however small, knowing that now is not the time to be thinking about it and then as soon as these god damn exams are over I will start to take notice.And I will use them as a reminder on every road I take , to see if that's the road I want to be on.

Why all the fuss you ask , the melodrama and all that jazz...well the thing is.....I'm graduating in a month (I think.)and I have no clue as to what I'm gonna be doing next.

You may ask ,in the hallowed words of Rachel of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, New York

"Yeah , what , so???"

I'm probably among the millions of seemingly aimless souls who will be awarded a degree (for no particular achievement) this year. Now, to be fair to myself , It ain't like I have nowhere to go...I have a couple of things lined up..But none of them seem anywhere close to where I'd imagined myself. In all this rush and preoccupation , I keep stopping to wonder if all the effort is worth it? If the direction i'm heading in , is the right one? And a myriad of other racking doubts that are bound to cloud one's mind when one is in the process of a "Transition".

So , I decided to stop a while , even if only to indulge myself , and think about all the things I really want to do.And make a list , so even if I end up making ends meat by doing paperwork or coming up with dumb ideas for people to buy..That will only be my preoccupation. And I will look at this list and this shall be what I will do with my life and what I want out of life. I guess a lot of things might get added or removed from the list as life goes on and I experience a lot more things but as of now ,This is it...I think ,These things will make me happy.

So ,here's what I came up with:

1) I want to learn to dance the salsa , the tango , swing , fox trot , cha cha cha...and go dancing every weekend.

2)I wanna learn to ski , I want to go parasailing , sky diving , water skiing , ice skating , bungee jumping ,white water rafting.

3)Explore India-villages and all-not just the touristy thing- Rajasthan,Orissa,Leh,Darjeeling-everywhere.

4)I want to spend 3 months (at least) in each of the following places :

- Paris : to haunt the cafes , camp at The Louvre , the Musee d'orsay and absorb French culture even if it's on a shoe string budget

-Florence and Rome : just to visit all the churches , see the frescoes and Michelangelo's sculptures

There are other places on my list. But the above mentioned cities are long dreamed about destinations.

5) I'd like to live in Europe for one simple reason and one reason only ('cos I love madras dearly ) . Because ,I'm told, in Europe, everyone slogs for ten months and vacations for two whole months, irrespective of whether you are a janitor or a high powered executive- They believe that life is for the living and work is for sustenance. (Hear Hear)

Or, I don't mind a job here that will afford me the same luxury and the same monetary benefits..lol

6) I'd like to be in a job that can afford to let me have a house by the sea...(tsunami regulations adhered to etc. ) where the biggest room in the house is the library.

6)And have lots and lots of books and CDs or DVDs or whatever manner of music storage we are gonna use in the future.

7)Speaking of music, I'd kill to learn to play the violin.

8)I want to learn to speak tamil ,because by god, it's my mother tongue and how will I convince my kids that they need to speak tamil when I'm living in a house by the sea in europe ,if I don't speak tamil myself.

9)I want to learn hindi and urdu to understand all the beautiful hindi lyrics of old hindi movies and faiz's poetry , which so far I have only read translations of.

10) Add spanish , italian and french to the list of languages for the following reasons

-Spanish-just so I can read Neruda's poems in their original.
-Italian-so I can understand Opera-I fell in love with italian after watching Life Is Beautiful..
-French-because I laboured for a year and a half over it and it's a beautiful language , and it will help me understand the menu where I live in europe..lol

11) I want to be able to read copiously- and still more

About all the learning part..That I should do sometime soon..It's difficult as you get older , I hear.

So for now , That's all I can come up with. For the most part I'd really like to travel every year and spend time absorbing culture and language of different places all over the world.

Anyway,these are my somewhat humble(?)dreams..I would love to hear that I'm not the only dreamer in this world...lol..So tell me your dreams..?..uh...corny...lol..well anyway...