tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-97666402012-01-20T08:28:29.649+05:30What would I do without a mind?<br> What would I do without a society to shape that mind?<br> To influence it?<br> To taint it?<br> To glorify it?<br> What would I do without the memories of such glory and such tache?<br> An orphan on a deserted island, with nothing from the outside world,<br> save the produce of Nature which surrounds me.<br> I suppose I would be free....Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.comBlogger6501100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-50005642818370614552011-11-20T01:07:00.000+05:302011-11-20T01:13:01.102+05:30

Few songs have all the right ingredients for brimming dazzle. Nearly all of them were composed & first sang before the 90's. But one song stands out from amidst all those nuggets of gold - In Aankhon Ki Masti, from the movie Umrao Jaan. This song has had the unacceptably biased grace of Fate in bringing all the apposite facets required to make a song (in a Hindi movie) unforgettable & remarkably

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-15424405439485974432011-10-24T20:46:00.000+05:302011-10-24T20:46:19.706+05:30

To start with, I don't play online games. That doesn't deny me the right to imagine. I was just yawning & stretching myself when a thought struck me - perhaps the future of gaming is not in the players but in the game itself. What I mean is that today gaming is focussed so much on player skills which leads to rapid familiarity with the constraints & then inevitable boredom. What really is

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-76805200081633872292011-10-22T19:55:00.000+05:302011-10-22T21:11:11.005+05:30

Q: Do you see yourself sometimes as Nabokov the writer isolated from others, flaming sword to scourge them, an entertainer, a drudge, a genius, which? N: The word "genius" is passed around rather generously, isn't it? At least in English, because its Russian counterpart, geniy, is a term brimming with a sort of throaty awe and is used only in the case of a very small number of writers,

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-85590643929297903992011-09-22T21:44:00.000+05:302011-09-22T21:46:53.578+05:30

The birds chirped not that day. Like the bulge of a river nearing an estuary, they knew that something unnerving was around the bend of Time, but what it exactly was, their unimaginative minds, knew not. This was the day when all changed and even the sharpest minds & most sensitive soul would fail beyond that bend of hours to conjure the fabric of breath before that day. The Devil was on his

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-68665968684256820522011-03-25T07:58:00.003+05:302011-03-25T08:28:13.644+05:30

I sleep in my cereal bowlAnd walk the length of mirrors.My eye-lashes wilt in SpringAnd I drink spoonsful of cake.I talk to flowersIn the potpourri bowl.I see stars by the sunAnd sweat under the blazing moon.These distances I walkTo quiet my chattering nose.On your birthdayI wish little puppies and get bittenBut unlike yours.The pirouetting flowers in their descentSigh like you did after we made

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-41411980591026976202011-03-08T20:17:00.005+05:302011-03-08T20:23:21.509+05:30

I know this is really late in the day with FT.com about to come out with their ranking for 2011. Nevertheless, here is a summary that might help. This is an annual feature I do (at least in 2008 and 2009) for the same clueless reasons as mentioned in those posts. I still think that there is no reliable and good ranking of PhD programs out there. You would need to click on the image below or ruin

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-67322992096003550922011-03-07T09:20:00.000+05:302011-03-07T09:20:00.384+05:30

Sundried tomatoes wrapped in potato slices, brushed with herb oil & baked. Add half an olive to the toothpick that runs through this & serveBrush cauliflowerlets with ginger-honey & char/grill. Mix salt+lemon juice+tabasco sauce+balsamic vin. & spray on each flower while hot.Pressure cook small colacasia till tender, marinate in tamarind water+chili pow., dust with gram flour & deep fry with

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-87945440039537316622011-03-07T06:56:00.005+05:302011-03-07T07:19:34.350+05:30

This weekend I had this sudden whim to create recipes within 140 characters. I had nevertheless, stated a few things which would need to be taken for granted: Wherever I mention rice I mean Basmati, GM is garam masala. Oil - olive oil & salt will never be mentioned.Given that, it still was a challenge to create them recipes! I enjoyed it thoroughly as it was a departure from my usual poetry/

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-19807778391493340882011-02-19T10:11:00.001+05:302011-02-19T10:12:43.736+05:30

I simply have to share this link although it isn't in tune with the personality of this blog. http://blogs.msdn.com/b/ericlippert/archive/2011/02/14/what-would-feynman-do.aspx

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-74591880570402817592011-02-18T17:00:00.001+05:302011-02-18T21:05:39.777+05:30

Recently, I had the good fortune of translating a beautiful song for a dear friend who isn't Indian. I wanted to introduce her to non-classical Indian music which could very well represent what it once was. I chose this song.This song is a splendid piece of poetry by Gulzar-sahab sung beautifully by Asha Bhosle-ji. The music is by Pancham-da. Dusky beauty Rekha is quite perfect for this song. The

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-71787502669600641152011-02-17T19:39:00.005+05:302011-02-17T20:22:18.025+05:30

Not that it is a new poem but still, published on real paper (not a printout!). My stance on publishing still holds! ;-)I thank Sinu for the fantastic art work he brought out for this poem. I must have been a nag to work with, what with all those editing and endless deliberating over details. In spite of all his hard work the actual print in the book has lost all the details and I am disappointed

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-72862009729342879972011-02-13T13:33:00.000+05:302011-02-13T13:33:00.827+05:30

To the hurried soul, I offer my sympathies and the following list:1. Book of Disquiet2. Don Quixote3. Hamlet4. Mrs. Dalloway5. Ulysses6. Ada or Ardor7. Century of Humour8. Complete Works of Saki9. Niels Lyhne10. Dead Souls11. Jane Eyre12. Golden BowlFor the cultured ones, I have a tale to offer. Suffer me for the aging through this story might prove worth it.I recently brought upon myself a

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-15696017247312463082011-02-12T21:31:00.002+05:302011-02-12T21:38:22.246+05:30

The terror, the sheer and ample terror, of waking from a dream one vaguely recalls meeting during the waking day on a street corner. Such a dream has no ingredient of frightening proportions but its near reality ushers a lacing of fear which others lack in their entirety.And in its recall, I am aware of the starkness of my room standing suspended in the architecture of this world and the world

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-68054971970331239182011-02-12T21:29:00.001+05:302011-02-12T21:30:49.100+05:30

To not believe, to distrust, is oppressing for with it I invite villains of my own creation. These very people I, then, include in my world. The weight of it, perhaps, is not for display. But with each chance (and, pray, what is that?) encounter, I abrade myself further under its tell. For in disbelief there is nurtured a relation which is fed by the other's dubious ways, his misdeeds, his

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-45006537461612343662011-02-12T21:26:00.000+05:302011-02-12T21:28:27.233+05:30

Could someone accept my deeds, my watering their wilting plant & merely smile? Not tell the neighbours about it & not buy me flowers? Why must a simple deed have seismic repercussions? Why must it marshal emotions & gratitude of the tangible kinds? Can it not be a sunrise?For simple deeds are indeed sunrises and sunsets, bringing warmth to the onlooker and making you mortally incapable of

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-51937816102123321082011-02-12T21:24:00.001+05:302011-02-12T21:26:20.882+05:30

Once the clear possibility and doability of some endeavour is ascertained, then its actual execution is essentially redundant. There appears no rational compulsion to actually perform what one knows one can perform if the thrill is in unraveling the adventure.There is a point when the mind is aware of all the resources required, all the people to be summoned & all throaty incantations memorised

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-60345218904937487772011-02-01T14:15:00.000+05:302011-02-01T14:15:00.199+05:30

I had decided to try out a different version of Project 365 that was doing the rounds. I thought I would write a post on this blog, one for each day of this year, for no reason other than the want to do something seemingly vivacious.After one month of adhering to it, I realise that while its possibility is not to be doubted, its value raises some questions.I wish this blog to be where matters are

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-1888379167106731712011-01-31T20:43:00.002+05:302011-01-31T20:58:55.983+05:30

My life's tales and loveI send on a wind to theArabian Sea.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-55695048427763576532011-01-30T15:37:00.002+05:302011-01-30T15:37:00.084+05:30

"Your tweet was over 140 characters. You'll need to be more clever"While many find fault with Twitter and the culture it has heralded, I, a late entry into the maddening party, find immense brilliance in it. Undoubtedly, you need to sift through it all but it is a labour well worth the time. I was fortunate in having found a few to start with and piggy-backed on their recommendations to pick more

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-88760256423306365852011-01-29T12:40:00.003+05:302011-01-29T12:46:38.531+05:30

I thank my friend Kartikeya for sharing this with me. This gorgeous video has all the longing and love, the magic and flow that is impossible to create with real people. I especially loved the video at 1:30 where only her hand on his chest is visible. Simply remarkable. Kartik, I owe you an ice-cream! I really wish I could dance thus with someone. Endlessly.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-84585169439420532092011-01-28T23:51:00.003+05:302011-02-07T08:03:43.390+05:30

This site has some amazing portraits (mostly, unsafe for work or to be displayed to your parents, whichever is scarier). I am not sure whether all of them have been shot by the same person but the collections is simply superb. Enjoy the array! Once again, if you are uncomfortable with aesthetic nudity then you should not click on the picture above but simply enjoy this one that I have picked.What

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-1386919783871264332011-01-27T22:28:00.003+05:302011-01-27T22:36:32.588+05:30

That leaf which didn't Fall in Autumn, would it stillCarry Summer's dew?

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-56625854388200076592011-01-26T21:58:00.003+05:302011-01-26T22:15:15.851+05:30

Q: That which occurs when we are confronted by all sorts of shapes and forms is called ‘perception’. Can we speak of perception taking place when nothing confronts us?A: Yes.Q: When something confronts us, it follows that we perceive it, but how canthere be perception when we are confronted by nothing at all?A: We are now talking of that perception which is independent of there being an object

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-25841576492953837562011-01-25T18:42:00.000+05:302011-01-25T18:42:00.259+05:30

Slippers swapped in theDark - Suddenly, my feet haveForgotten to walk.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-86879921728866204022011-01-24T22:05:00.003+05:302011-01-24T22:19:32.732+05:30

The full monsoon moon -How I wish I were like youFitting each puddle.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-24292086266834887162011-01-23T17:48:00.002+05:302011-01-23T17:51:45.070+05:30

I like how boats and shores connect: a bold thrust into the cleaving sands and then all is still.You can't love me until you love my words.Silence is only beautiful when all is explained and understood, else it is a deafening roar with possibilities and "maybe"sStanding on the bridge I wonder whether there are more yesterdays or more tomorrows, so I'd know which way to go.Stone-skipping questions

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-3944195466394749072011-01-22T23:32:00.001+05:302011-01-22T23:36:32.365+05:30

I am often the best historic character that the avid historian would have liked to pursue. Forever in my every move I leave behind hints to the "Why?" and the "What else?". There is lesser delight in living than in playing to this lean picture of a historian frothing at his mouth with excitement as I make choices and burn bridges. His sheer delight when he finds the crumbs I dropped to lead him

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-85466895188559666622011-01-21T23:33:00.000+05:302011-01-22T07:16:55.815+05:30

On a long WinterNight - Between howls of stray dogs.Poetry of silence.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-2117374702183452982011-01-20T20:20:00.003+05:302011-01-20T20:54:12.091+05:30

O'er the frozen lakeI could rush home or watch theFish beneath my feet

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-83330615655188492112011-01-19T18:12:00.002+05:302011-01-19T19:06:04.584+05:30

Villa Blanche. I thought it was to be pronounced as Villa Blanc till the sweet voice over the phone told me it was Villa Blanche. That is what you get for trying to be French when the only thing closest to being French about your birthplace (Madras) is Pondicherry. Well, zat vaas ye pun.Villa Blanche is one of the few places in Goa you go to (and hence, the Tamilian name to that place - go-aa?)

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-72416376420399550372011-01-18T11:38:00.000+05:302011-01-18T11:38:00.711+05:30

This is a sketch I had made in my early- mid-teens. I am not sure what spurred me to do that but I suspect Max Brand and his works to have inspired me. You would need to click on the image below to view details.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-19000768406935206502011-01-17T07:57:00.002+05:302011-01-17T08:15:54.457+05:30

Isn't it a lot easier to write online to an unknown audience who conveniently only have one side of the story (mine) and can, hence, be more willing to offer me their sympathies which is often what we all need, especially, when we are running through a rough patch - a pink slip, a broken marriage, bankruptcy, death of a near one? I used to spend a lot of time on blogs but most of them wrote

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-41087445073068456872011-01-16T18:25:00.002+05:302011-01-16T18:25:00.284+05:30

The only warm hearth we can always return to is our childhood memoriesAt every opportunity to not know, I shamelessly choose to know.The patient sheet of paper - never asking me to shut up.If only she could love me and not the image of me I wanted her to once love.On the pavement, my body feels and holds the rush of every vehicle and in that incessant throb, a deep calm and quietening...Such a

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-63297347479628872522011-01-15T14:51:00.000+05:302011-01-15T14:51:00.435+05:30

I am distracted the minute she comes and sits on my lap, naturally leaning on my chest while I read from the book. She doesn't smell of milk as she once did and she doesn't smell of a woman she is yet to become. Somewhere between those incarnations of her being, she is this, a soft weight on my thigh and a load of easy trust on my breast. I read a few sentences before kissing her on her head. She

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-16380319465550718002011-01-14T12:36:00.000+05:302011-01-14T12:36:00.372+05:30

There are songs which are hardly recalled without a memory so strongly associated with it that I often wonder whether that song could have ever been heard elsewhere. One such song is "Mohabbat hi na jo samjhe" which clearly reminds me of H-467 (apartment number) with my National Panasonic stationed atop a wooden reaper L-angle stand in the corner. There my father would play Talat Mehmood songs

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-67646305526973786932011-01-13T12:39:00.000+05:302011-01-14T12:51:26.831+05:30

Watch a city from afar, from over a lighthouse or a distant hillock - the entirety taken in a glance without the details like an acquaintance who allows you to gaze at her from your apartment before she turns around the corner. Arrays of light and movement abstracted into festoons of vaguely familiar aesthetics lining and defining the contours of what might otherwise be a dark lump on the horizon

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-39274882701080689232011-01-12T21:46:00.004+05:302011-01-12T22:23:10.850+05:30

Completeness is a utilitarian want for something we'd rather have. Nature doesn't wait for the perfect apple to be formed or the most complete sunrise and though I do not call upon everyone to mimic Nature (oh! how I wish someone could), it is imperative of every artist and creator to observe Nature long enough to realise that this urge and need for completeness is utilitarian. No painting is

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-29061356340710695142011-01-11T21:40:00.004+05:302011-01-11T21:52:38.768+05:30

Her memory isLike the Winter breeze o'er lakes -The sighing within.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-48313806183836739862011-01-10T19:29:00.008+05:302011-01-12T06:23:53.483+05:30

Without fail my lovely R drops me an email and writes:Dear E, Remembered you on this day of Marghazhi 1st - you, your blog, your post, pic of andal in post, your amma's pongal description, your narration of this month's speciality... Still lingering from 2008.....and I can't help smile. R has this amazingly simple and innocent way of touching people's lives that I feel amazed, honoured and

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-6654405455083636972011-01-09T00:36:00.000+05:302011-01-09T09:41:55.496+05:30

We all need pain. We all need poetry in our lives.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-9492387658418060852011-01-08T22:39:00.004+05:302011-01-09T00:23:33.199+05:30

I open my ever-unfastened trunkAnd out falls sand-castles of summer toursWhen more of hope could easily be shrunkWith lesser delusion 'twixt my contours.Postcards in a file marked "Love, Jennifer",A View-Master with reels of all I'd dreamed,Plans that Fate returned, burned to a cinder,And relationships more sour than they seemed.And in the half I hold erect, are smilesBequeathed with every alien

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-32231035412040695692011-01-07T22:26:00.002+05:302011-01-07T22:31:13.187+05:30

Saturdays were always dreaded. No kid likes to have to sit for an hour, forbidden to touch anything, with a strange feeling of something snaking down your neck - something growing, silky and wet. Oil baths were the most boring ordeals in our house. I hated them from the bottom of my heart because it meant over an hour of sitting through the neck wringing torture of having powerful arms rub the

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-39436599758909912552011-01-06T16:20:00.000+05:302011-01-06T16:20:00.870+05:30

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-65705900387603251652011-01-05T19:19:00.000+05:302011-01-05T19:19:00.040+05:30

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-16081084096239686192011-01-04T19:13:00.002+05:302011-01-05T07:19:49.549+05:30

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-22447113658325387082011-01-03T20:23:00.001+05:302011-01-03T20:24:41.741+05:30

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-47810330441044530072011-01-02T18:58:00.008+05:302011-01-02T21:33:42.473+05:30

I realised I had quite a few pictures to share from this trip and it wouldn't make sense to bundle them all together and throw them over slow and/or unreliable connections. Hence, I am going to share them in buckets of 20/21 each in the hope that it would ease your experience.After clicking the image below, if the images aren't refreshing fast enough (i.e. if you are on a slow connection) please

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-39134802696706157542011-01-01T23:36:00.003+05:302011-01-02T00:00:43.321+05:30

Deserted playground -Even the jaunty marblesHave lowered their gaze.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-78422194435484337782010-12-29T14:47:00.006+05:302011-01-01T11:55:02.099+05:30

We shall meet again next year, till then, ponder over this:Beyond the point where the riversEnd and the mountains vanishYou have kept on walkingOriginally the treasure liesJust under one's feetYou made the mistake of thinkingThat now you would be ableTo retire in peaceLook: in your own hut theMeditation mat has never been warm. - Muso Soseki (1275-1351)

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-75996350809725911512010-12-23T18:02:00.002+05:302010-12-26T11:05:11.755+05:30

I didn't do this last year, but I will be celebrating 6 years of blogging with 600 published posts at 6:00 p.m. on the 26th of Dec 2010. I used to celebrate thus except in 2008 and 2009. I hope to get back to what I used to do. Anyone who is in Bangalore and would care to meet, is welcome to drop by at the Cafe Coffee Day on 100 feet Road, Indiranagar, Bangalore at the said hour. Beverages on me!

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-44287783925803072322010-12-23T15:15:00.003+05:302010-12-23T16:34:55.962+05:30

It will be 6 years since I first wrote on this blog. 600 posts on this blog and still many to come. 6 beautiful, and some original, themes have come up on this blog (God-Devil post, Zen Koans, Translations interwoven with a story, Alvibest, 18 verses and Conscious Living). 6 6 6That is exactly the devil that is going on here! :-)This year too I will pick posts that I enjoy

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-18360389415607764702010-12-20T14:27:00.002+05:302010-12-20T14:27:00.452+05:30

Nope! It is not about the season. At least not while I am in India. It is about the experience of falling down. Choose your style - tripping, down the stairs, out of the window, off your bike, from the train, off the bed when you were excitedly ... you know! I am not sure whether you have noticed, but there is a brilliant state of the mind which realises that it is falling but can do very little

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-21243857905735828342010-12-19T10:32:00.003+05:302010-12-19T10:57:58.665+05:30

Once in a while I come across something superbly brilliant and am immediately amazed at just how much there is to see and know about the world around me. I think the greatest contribution from the Internet is in essentially that respect where every single day when I read something new (or simply unbelievable) or see something new and I sit back wondering just how much more is possible.I think

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-36883317003125746092010-12-18T23:24:00.001+05:302010-12-18T23:28:21.140+05:30

Fear is the basis of all oppression. I wouldn't be far from truth if I went on to say that fear is the cause for all that is ugly in this world of human beings - fear of being found out, fear of losing what one has, fear of disrepute and much more.Such is the fear that has gripped the governments and institutions of the world. And the one who has most to lose is most delirious. The American

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-65371820893634846532010-12-18T15:26:00.006+05:302010-12-18T15:40:21.907+05:30

Since it does seem to be happening, I will post details about it. Recently, Madness Mandali decided to organise a visual poetry project. 33 poets were chosen from around 150 and the artists were assigned to each poet. The artists and poets worked closely to come up with a poem-art combination. I would love to post the final piece my artist developed for my poem which was chosen but I will have to

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-60098534693321169352010-12-15T14:27:00.002+05:302010-12-15T14:40:05.520+05:30

As I go to sleepThe noon sky is dividedBy my eyelashes.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-79604952119216042542010-12-15T14:19:00.002+05:302010-12-15T14:24:53.643+05:30

Trying to find a buddha or enlightenment is like trying to grab space. Space has a name but no form. It's not something you can pick up or put down. And you certainly can't grab it. Beyond this mind you'll never see a buddha. The buddha is a product of your mind. Why look for a buddha beyond this mind?- Bodhidharma (d. 533) (bow down to DailyZen)

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-6697451590081550982010-12-12T15:51:00.002+05:302010-12-12T16:18:25.163+05:30

So here it is, in front of me, glaring at me with all its vulgarity and perceived ugliness. I detest it with all of my being and have found means to achieve that seeming heaven. Please note, gentle reader, I have the means to rid myself of this sore, I hold in my hand the key to the door through which I can send this wolf running out of my life and I am simply holding that key and staring at it.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-53506142325871791362010-12-11T22:55:00.003+05:302010-12-11T23:18:00.220+05:30

As you take the bus on an overnight journey to some far away place, you stop where everyone must get down to stretch their legs or relieve themselves or grab a bite of the oily produce of the roadside vendor. While you get down wondering about what you have left behind and what you have waiting for you at the end of the journey - as if journeys end - you catch a glimpse of this extraordinary

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-6077075667071444992010-12-02T07:37:00.000+05:302010-12-02T07:37:56.161+05:30

A torn prayer flagRises, limp, in the wind to Be what it once was.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-33164118694685839002010-12-01T08:04:00.000+05:302010-12-01T08:05:08.465+05:30

I read this somewhere and I totally loved it:Of all the riches that we hug, of all the pleasures we enjoy, we can carry no more out of this world than out of a dream

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-45335801991995838222010-11-27T08:03:00.003+05:302010-11-27T08:30:34.269+05:30

How instinctive it is for one to raise their voice the minute one suspects one's own folly! Haven't you observed that? I mean in yourself not in others. I write this because the past few weeks had me gleefully expose this base instinct in many people (ex-employers, friends, colleagues, et al) and I immediately turned the spotlight on myself to see how different am I. Beyond the consciousness I

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-21759718530892373162010-11-27T07:53:00.003+05:302010-11-27T08:01:50.226+05:30

I was appalled when I read about the Food Safety Modernization Act (S. 510). Coming from a country which considers itself rational and prides itself in its "freedom" and "liberty" to do just about anything, the articles I read (here and here) only reminded me of 1984 and Atlas Shrugged. An excerpt:Practices such as saving seeds for use the next year would be prohibited anddoing so could result in

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-72543162809128619982010-11-26T09:20:00.003+05:302010-11-26T09:25:33.837+05:30

While I have been busy in so many things, I have also been called to organise a quiz. Master stroke of irony! I who have no clue about what is happening in the world am asked to organise a quiz! I was laughing for a day and a half till I realised that the folks were serious. So here is the first flier created for this. Feel free to let me know your answer! :-) Please click on the image below.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-77575850420327602212010-11-12T21:11:00.004+05:302010-11-12T21:23:07.740+05:30

From many-hued dreams,A dew drop wakes the lilyTo be a flower.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-82335136223579890772010-11-07T22:53:00.001+05:302010-11-07T22:53:22.484+05:30

Some readers might be aware of a bygone effort of mine in capturing my thoughts and meditations into 18 verses. On my recent trip I felt the need to understand when philosophical enquiry and spiritual pursuits seem appealing or even relevant to an individual. I also wished to understand what are the characteristics of a realised soul and what is available to him which infinite intellectual

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-13201571400976213282010-11-07T13:00:00.004+05:302010-11-07T22:13:23.839+05:30

Well, I was away traveling through the mountains. It was beautiful. More on that later. Here are some pictures shot during the trip. Hope you like them.In case you do not like the display format above, then feel free to click on the link below (you can control speed of refresh depending on your connection):http://s593.photobucket.com/albums/tt19/eroteme-thinks/Rishikesh2010/?albumview=slideshow

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-51397518818767964442010-10-20T08:59:00.001+05:302010-11-06T21:29:01.037+05:30

It was Thursday and hence, he would walk in in another two minutes. She would reach her desk within a minute, having powdered her nose and cradled her bodice into position (where it already was, but never seemed thus at 8:55 a.m. on Thursday). She had arranged the letters neatly on the top right corner of her table, with the hard wooden grip of the rubber stamp leaning slightly against them. Once

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-71895217318529867762010-10-20T08:19:00.003+05:302010-10-20T08:25:59.146+05:30

How ironic it is sometimes when beautiful thinkers and writers remain largely unknown. A very dear friend of mine said the following things but this friend is relatively unknown to the world. Does the world deserve the likes of who write nowadays or these silent gems?since i learnt french, my dog barks only in frenchin the flowing rivers of eternal perfection is unending silence...and the most

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-6541468927886007512010-10-20T08:14:00.002+05:302010-10-20T08:18:18.639+05:30

How beautiful theMoon looks tonight. The horse moves -Change in scenery.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-80785696375026406222010-10-18T07:43:00.003+05:302010-10-18T07:48:24.731+05:30

As I observe laconic people around me, I wonder what let's them stay silent even when they have something to say. One thing I have never mastered is to stay silent when I know what is right. Knowledge is poor shackle for the tongue. I recently came across the quote below and loved it. When I think over what I have said, I envy dumb people. ~ SenecaAnd for all of you who feel

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-54437791279977571772010-10-17T23:13:00.000+05:302010-10-17T23:13:11.697+05:30

How often I hearPromises of her returnIn a good-bye's wake.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-78588333911282248842010-10-17T22:15:00.005+05:302010-10-17T22:37:21.375+05:30

Piles of wood well trussedBut you cry over what's burntAnd seek warmth from ash.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-58190188484058813722010-10-11T21:13:00.003+05:302010-10-11T21:42:46.105+05:30

Fernando Pessoa is one of my favourite writers for this year. He was probably the father blogging way before terse personal writing on different topics became fashionable and long before electronic computers were invented (let along the Internet).In one of his "posts" he writes wonderfully about an experience that is common in my life. There has hardly been a day when I would be seated at a lunch

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-91612763572186246912010-10-10T16:35:00.000+05:302010-10-10T16:41:35.894+05:30

A lot of people think that software engineers are boring. I think that would be true to a great extent. There are exceptions and I think most of the exceptions created new stuff (languages, frameworks, tools, etc.) which made normal conversation difficult.My greatest gripe against the software industry is what they did to English as a language. Perhaps we should have picked Aramaic and coined all

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-38657478855940388422010-10-10T11:29:00.001+05:302010-10-10T11:30:10.281+05:30

One Day on Earth Participant Trailer from One Day On Earth on Vimeo.Enjoy this trailer and participate in the project. I am going to.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-70328956476731082542010-10-10T09:35:00.005+05:302010-10-10T16:28:10.328+05:30

Shel Silverstein is one of my favourite poets. Contrary to my usual preference for the serious and stoic, SS has the quality of being deep while being light or even funny. I think that is rare and widely unappreciated. Most people fear they might be called amateurish or dilettantes for picking someone like SS. Here, have a lollipop and meditate on that.This poem I share because it is exactly how

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-31566167195305120822010-10-03T14:40:00.004+05:302010-10-03T14:49:03.091+05:30

I was recently asked to explain a poem featured on this blog. After hunting down the poem, I realised I had no clue about it. Then I read through the comments with Parvati-ji's comments helping me a bit (and making me blush with the generosity of compliments). So I wrote back to this gent with whatever I could make of that poem. In case, any of the then commenters or present ones feel/see

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-12797213939077507802010-10-02T08:45:00.006+05:302010-10-02T09:14:01.583+05:30

I am fortunate to be introduced to Sinu C who is an artist (the kinds that first comes to your mind when someone says artist). His works are amazing and beautiful ranging from the voluptuous styles of some artists to the boney large eyed ones of several modern artists to Manga-like works. His sheer range is a delight and I have been spending all morning going through his site. Please do visit his

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-17930142174512895822010-10-01T00:01:00.001+05:302010-10-01T00:01:01.017+05:30

We are always in a relationship, aren't we? But what does it mean to relate? This post discusses just that. For a change I decided not to type out the post but write and scan it. Been ages since I wrote with my pen (Sheaffer). My handwriting is abysmal. Please be kind and tolerate this idiosyncrasy of mine.This is way past my bedtime and hence, I haven't proof-read this piece. Without a

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-86781324379237160552010-09-24T08:04:00.003+05:302010-09-24T08:11:16.687+05:30

His is a blog worth reading (with a pinch of salt) and he has some very interesting points to make about the ongoing CWG debacle. Yours truly, as always, had some vishesh tippani to offer (useless but supposedly grand). Drop by there: http://www.deeshaa.org/2010/09/22/the-games-built-on-a-cesspool/Personally, I think we should boycott the games and demand that the government repay all the money

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-67462030977677482152010-09-19T19:27:00.002+05:302010-09-19T19:55:13.989+05:30

I have a problem. I am audience to men who shall die in exactly two and a half days. No, that is not my problem. My problem is that it is always two and a half days. Not two and a half hours, not two and a half minutes or two and a half decades. It is always two and a half days and that tears away from my living self invisible fragments of vital sanity. No, I can't see myself in the mirror at

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-17255753796695306872010-09-12T23:12:00.000+05:302010-09-12T23:35:31.000+05:30

Would I prefer to live in Bombay or Manali or Auroville? This question (with a variation in the specific cities tossed your way, skyscrapers and all) has been posed often and dealt with more frequently. Everyone agrees that Bangalore, Madras and New Delhi are excellent places to live in because the quality of life is much better. "You get everything there", I often here. Bombay was always such a

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-58361692861008328092010-08-29T21:24:00.001+05:302010-09-01T10:29:14.524+05:30

In the midst of all the studying and pointless planning, I continued my perennial quest for culinary prospects. More than finding amazing restaurants, I usually seek out places which sell fresh vegetables (exotic) and herbs, not to mention cheeses, curry pastes (semi-exotic) and the like. I love Maison de Gourmets in Chennai and Bangalore, American Food market in Chennai and Food Gourmet in

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-32383283051632920302010-08-27T07:14:00.000+05:302010-08-27T07:19:37.579+05:30

I know, I know. This is not even a post. It is nothing. It nearly seems like an excuse to link to my own post. Why it also seems like a forced output! I know, I know.I was just going over some old posts (needed some info) and stumbled on this. I realised how much this post still makes me smile. Nothing seems to have changed since then although so much has happened. So much! Just felt like sharing

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-81826870302667051902010-08-15T17:19:00.004+05:302010-08-17T16:24:39.641+05:30

But I might be away for a while. Why? Because I have a few things to do which might not give me time to blog as frequently as I would like to (and as my dear says, "Why do you announce, E? You will change your mind anyway?"). Firstly, I would like to return to the world of technical reading and hacking around (which I haven't done since 2005). Secondly, I am ... well, doing things. Thirdly, I

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-42881924073812011262010-08-11T21:21:00.004+05:302010-08-11T21:38:58.360+05:30

So I have come to enjoy dry pasta. After having cooked several versions of it (combining anything from charred tomatoes to brinjal/eggplant wafers to drunken mushrooms) I have to come to realise that this is as much fun as the saucy versions. All the pictures below are shot in my kitchen (of which you get to see absolutely nothing). What you see is pretty much all of what I used (and limbs of

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-77854317618530111732010-08-11T06:15:00.002+05:302010-08-11T06:18:43.936+05:30

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-82738901875170417472010-08-10T20:41:00.000+05:302010-08-10T20:48:45.079+05:30

'My country, right or wrong' is a thing no patriot would ever think of saying except in a desperate case. It is like saying 'My mother, drunk or sober.'Chesterton said a lot when he said that. To most people, all that it means is that patriotism cannot be taken to an illogical extreme. I would take that one step further and say that GKC actually said that if you let rationality govern your

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-51008724070905543492010-08-01T17:38:00.001+05:302010-08-01T17:41:49.743+05:30

Some memories don't stand alone by themselves. They hold hands with and usher in others and before you know it, your entire life blossoms all over again with a different cynosure every time. How amusing it is to find a slightly different life pulled up in front of you every time based on what you started with. Like a vast flat landscape pinched by Providence's hand and pulled up to create

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-88787347814364472352010-07-26T22:51:00.002+05:302010-07-27T12:57:06.549+05:30

Of the three worlds possible, I hate the one I see in my bedroom. It is the same world in a brothel too. In a brothel, the worlds stretch out and ebb like the dance of light from that swaying bulb on the second floor of Kanta's shack. At once you see flesh and then there is an offer to show flesh. I had met Yamuna in one such place, but she has disappeared. So did she belong to the third world?

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-62554390338620636982010-07-24T23:10:00.002+05:302010-07-24T23:18:49.292+05:30

A lake untouched by breezeIs beautifulTo a man untouched by love.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-64687036040878405102010-07-24T23:01:00.001+05:302010-07-24T23:01:55.237+05:30

How terrifying to imagine a day where I'd have nothing to say! How beautiful it is when such a day arrives!

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-48602412401502143182010-07-20T23:16:00.000+05:302010-07-20T23:16:00.834+05:30

A woman once asked a man why he clicked pictures of a popular religious function. The man in all innocence replied that he found the event beautiful. She then began condemning the pictures and went on to say that all this was nascent religious fanaticism and that she thought that he was a saffron robed VHS without the robe.A man once told another man that he should give up his personal religious

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-33541213713008610762010-07-13T21:48:00.006+05:302010-07-17T16:58:06.534+05:30

I don't know what made me write that post but I am glad I did as it provided Parvati-ji an opportunity to share a link to some interesting thoughts. I was also reading Flavorpill's recent piece about 20th century's most reclusive writers and J.D.Salinger's obit in the NY Times.It would be sufficient to read the second link above as it does discuss a similar issue in great depth. I actually had a

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-35390018231686560302010-07-12T18:47:00.004+05:302010-07-12T18:58:06.098+05:30

Young hands reachFor the temple bell, again -Such devotion I pray for.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-23651651944498057702010-07-07T13:07:00.003+05:302010-07-07T13:12:17.608+05:30

ChoreographedSilent drops fall on upturned vessels - Childhood's wind chimes.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-66067621899013235642010-06-30T22:25:00.003+05:302010-06-30T22:37:34.178+05:30

Even flowers darken,So none will missThe full moon tonight.

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-48812484215852239092010-06-30T22:11:00.000+05:302010-06-30T22:12:57.815+05:30

I build a slight alcove With a single beam of light, Where I shall find none, Not even myself...

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9766640.post-65239078824213457512010-06-26T09:37:00.004+05:302010-06-26T10:43:38.612+05:30

Been a while since I responded to a tag (or even been tagged). Sangeeta tagged me so I thought, why not! Here goes...1. What one material thing are you hoping/ scoping to inherit?A large house, with a huge, huge, massive library on the first floor with around 30,000-40,000 books bound in leather (fake is ok) and stacked in oak shelves with a walking platform to each level of the library. At the

Erotemehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677513867884448593noreply@blogger.com4