Thursday, March 16, 2006


Instant food has been my Saviour this past week.
Pulliyogare (rice flavoured with tamarind juice and spiced with groundnut) Upma, Idlies ( yeah they turned out to be oversized and undercooked) Vada,,, Yo!
I have gone bananas, literally! (I am posing a stiff competition from to the monkey population of Delhi)
 
posted by The Friendly Ghost at 8:36 AM | 2 comments
Monday, March 13, 2006
...A dear friend who is still dear but with whom I barely speak. No we have not fought. Far from it.
I genuinely appreciated the friendship and it was a sounding board where I hammered out myraid thoughts and opinions.
Perhaps the liberties I took were many, perhaps I didnt communicate enough and communicate proper, perhaps too many things going on in my life. Perhaps I was selfish.
Over the last cup of coffee and sandwiches I said I felt like a stone, had no emotions left. Perhaps I was a coward not to take a chance. Perhaps I was unjust.
Missing
... The phone calls;
Missing
... The coffee, always a welcome break;
Missing
... Gossiping over work and worship;
Missing
... the joint venture walkathon random and planned- Gandhi to Israel- Musuem to movie.
Missing
... stories about the exploits of children that Friend taught; one little boy Arpit that I strongly suspect was the result of Friend's overactive imagination.
Missing
... the debate over literature, the common expression for the overarching love for words and books.
Missing
... Filter Coffee and 'thair sadam.' Masala dosa, vada and upuma.
Missing
... The tips about haircare and the benefits of mud in your hair therapy!
Missing
... Bonhomie
Travelling together in silence is painful. Chatterbox, charming, idealistic Friend has a music companion now. There is no explanations.
How do I tell Friend that my intention was not to hurt. How do I convince that Friend means a lot to me? How do I make Friend see through my eyes?
Self centered? Cruel? Am I to you?
Can I turn back time? Can I reclaim that period? My soul weeps as I sport that smile.
Where do you go oh my Friend? Where do you go?
I need you to know that my sparesly populated world held nay still holds you in a special place. A very happy birthday.
 
posted by The Friendly Ghost at 10:42 AM | 1 comments
Saturday, March 11, 2006
by David Lehman


When she says margarita she means daiquiri.
When she says quixotic she means mercurial.
And when she says, "I'll never speak to you again,"
she means, "Put your arms around me from behind
as I stand disconsolate at the window."

He's supposed to know that.

When a man loves a woman he is in New York and she is in Virginia
or he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,
or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park and he
is raking leaves in Ithaca
or he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolate
at the window overlooking the bay
where a regatta of many-colored sails is going on
while he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.

When a woman loves a man it is one ten in the morning
she is asleep he is watching the ball scores and eating pretzels
drinking lemonade
and two hours later he wakes up and staggers into bed
where she remains asleep and very warm.

When she says tomorrow she means in three or four weeks.
When she says, "We're talking about me now,"
he stops talking. Her best friend comes over and says,
"Did somebody die?"

When a woman loves a man, they have gone
to swim naked in the stream
on a glorious July day
with the sound of the waterfall like a chuckle
of water rushing over smooth rocks,
and there is nothing alien in the universe.

Ripe apples fall about them.
What else can they do but eat?

When he says, "Ours is a transitional era,"
"that's very original of you," she replies,
dry as the martini he is sipping.

They fight all the time
It's fun
What do I owe you?
Let's start with an apology
Ok, I'm sorry, you dickhead.
A sign is held up saying "Laughter."
It's a silent picture.
"I've been fucked without a kiss," she says,
"and you can quote me on that,"
which sounds great in an English accent.

One year they broke up seven times and threatened to do it
another nine times.

When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the
airport in a foreign country with a jeep.
When a man loves a woman he's there. He doesn't complain that
she's two hours late
and there's nothing in the refrigerator.

When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.
She's like a child crying
at nightfall because she didn't want the day to end.

When a man loves a woman, he watches her sleep, thinking:
as midnight to the moon is sleep to the beloved.
A thousand fireflies wink at him.
The frogs sound like the string section
of the orchestra warming up.
The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.




From Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art. Copyright © 1996 by David Lehman. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author.
 
posted by The Friendly Ghost at 10:56 AM | 0 comments