A damn good writer

I wrote a review on this great writer I have been following recently. She's Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. A ll her books are amazingly beautiful! Have a look!

Phenomenal Woman

This is a poem I came across that struck me like not many others have in a long time. It's great! Written by Maya Angelou. Read on!

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size.
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.

I'm a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.

I'm a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.

I'm a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.


.....Maya Angelou

An Obituary

Tall, dark and handsome. That's the way my Simba would be described. Doberman by breed and an excellent watchdog for most of his ten year old life.

Simba was the heart of my family. He came as a spunky two month old and won us all over with his mischievous sparkling eyes. His over-excited scampers all over the house, his expeditions searching for something new to chew on, his enthusiastic welcomes whenever we got home will never to be repeated. His trademark was making a go for the wastepaper basket every time my Mom and Dad got back from work. It was their job to chase him around the house to get whatever it was in his mouth, before things could settle down.

Simba grew up to be this huge and handsome dog whom everyone seemed at awe of. He always walked straight and looked such a beauty when we took him for a walk that people im the street asked us why we did not take him to dog shows. We keep dogs because we love them, not to commercialise them. I have lived with dogs all my life, and so has my Dad and his Dad. And in spite of that, every single dog is special.

So was Simba. This was why it was especially tragic when we had to put him to sleep because he was suffering so much from sickness. It killed us everyday to see him lie down and get sicker, not his usual self, not being able to play with our younger dog, Max, like he used to. He barely reciprocated our efforts at healing him, neiter did he get better himself like he always did. It was terrible.

He went down like the brave dog that he was and now lies in his doggy grave, completely at peace. I will miss him a lot. Especially my Dad, with whom he shared an extra special bond.

May his soul rest in peace.

ps: This is not Simba's picture, though he looked close, only a lot more alert and handsome. I cannot seem to figure out how to get his pics from my cell phone into the computer. And I don't have any his pictures in my new pc.

Blogrolling

I had heard of blogrolling, but I had no clue what it was. I asked my colleague, but she was clueless too. So I found out what the hulabaloo was about.

Typed in the word in Google and came to a site which explained everything perfectly. Thought I would put the link up here for those who don't know waht it is. Am planning to use it and make my life easier.

Another Observation

I was sitting in my usual bus coming to office. Happy in my complacency, I was looking out of the window when I heard a popular hindi number being sung in the bus accompanied by an odd clicking sound. I looked around and there was this young boy of five or six, singing his lungs out.

He looked like he hadn't taken a bath in a week and his clothes were torn and tattered. In Calcutta, beggars are a dime a dozen everywhere. And he was no exception at first look. It was then that I noticed his eyes. Large and sad. That six year old looked as if he had seen all the sorrows the world had to offer. Somewhere somehow, my heart strings were being played upon by his voice.

His voice was cracked with singing so much. He just couldnt bring himself to sing the high notes even though his efforts were sincere. And the instrument to help him keep beat were two peices of sharpened stone that he beat against each other.

I was touched by the dignity in his bearing. He did not beg. He was trying to earn his living at five. Even after he had finished singing, he went from passenger to passenger, never uttering a word, just...looking.I helped him out with a ten rupee note, even though I don't give beggars alms by principle. And yet, it seemed so inadequate. The cracked voice and the staccato rhythm of the stones seem to haunt me. And every time, I see a beggar boy now, I see his eyes.

Writer's block

I have Blogger open on my computer from the morning.Ever since I got to office. I really want to write something...anything. But this writer is completely blocked!

Yeah...writer's block is bugging me from the morning. Of all the bugs you can get, this is one which makes you feel truly agitated. Restless and lost.

What do I say? "Hi...I want to write, but I don't know what?!"

I could write about the beautiful cloudy skies outside, the opressiveness of the AC inside, the boredom that is suffocating me, my loneliness that is nagging me and 'n' number of other things.

Either I cant, or I dont want to. I have no idea which.

When I started writing this post, I was euphoric that at least I'm writing about something that inspired me enough! But now I have realised that I am truly "bekaar" which is why I feel this way. And have gone to the other end of the mood spectrum! :( Plain Damn Annoying!

Such is life!

God! I've been so busy the last few days that it makes me feel as if I'm in one of those ads which show a person under a huge pile of tattered files!This kind of an experience makes me feel "This is life"!

You would naturally ask why I say something like this about work, that too being a person who is naturally so lazy, my Mom screams in frustration! It just suddenly struck me that life is so full of opposites. You never know the true value of being lazy till you have the opportunity to be so busy that you don't have the time to look up. I have had my nose kept to the grindstone so much lately that I did not even have the time to read an online novel or even blog!

This is actually a complaining mail in the disguise of a Philosophical one. So don't get taken in by the title! Who on earth likes working when there is so much of work to do?! I'm the chilling kinds. A little bit of work and a loooot of chilling! Wish all offices encouraged stuff like this (sigh!). Heh heh! I know I'm beng wishy washy and "dont know which way to go" types. But tht's what I am like....Confused with a capital C!

This cartoon I found when I typed in Sleeping in Office in Google Images. I thought it was a laugh!

Cleopatra

I have always had a fascination for Egypt. Since I was little, I remember studying about Egypt in History classes. Pyramids, mummies, exotic gold artifacts, hieroglyphics, papyrus and of course, Cleopatra. So you cant blame me for wanting to see the film Cleopatra which is an enactment of the phase in history that appeals to me the most. Besides I think Liz Taylor is just gorgeous!

So what do I do next? Since it is not readily available on cd or dvd, and I have no clue when they last gave it on TV, I jumped at the chance of getting it off a friend as an exchange scheme. Gone With The Wind for Cleopatra.

It's a nice relaxed Sunday and I settle down comfortably with my Pepsi and snacks to watch the movie. It starts off briliantly. Fabulous sets, excellent costumes, Rex Harrison at his manly best, exquisitely beautiful Taylor and a gripping narrative that had ambition, romance, action, sceming politics, everything.

And then the movie continues. And continues. And continues. My Pepsi has long entered and exited from my system, but the movie continues. Its dinner time and I eat in front of the computer and it still goes on and on.
End. Not of the movie. But of the day. And my patience. I have watched the movie for a good four hours(approx) and still the intrigues continue with no signs of letting up.

I can't believe I actually gave up watching the movie I was so eager to get my hand on!! I'm still wondering what happens in the end. Does she die or is she killed or what? And what happens to Mark Anthony? Guess I won't know till I get back to the film and I have no intentions of doing that. :-)