the third and final part of the long take on episode 1 of iss pyaar ko kya naam doon?.…
Browsing Tag
sheesh mahal
Now Brewing
a girl on a scooter, a man in a helicopter, perhaps they’ll meet? or episode 2 of episode 1
Posted on November 22, 2020
“the deal’s off, gentlemen! akash, let’s go.” the voice rang out sharp and precise, its decibel remained low. there was a tremor on the surface of the water in the glasses on the long conference room table, and as the three men sitting across watched nonplussed, the man who had just uttered those words got up smoothly from the leather upholstered chair and strode toward the exit. behind him shuffled a pleasant looking young man, with a slightly myopic air,…
then even nothingness was not, nor existence, there was no air then, nor the heavens beyond it. what covered it? where was it? in whose keeping was there then cosmic water, in depths unfathomed? ~~~ nasadiya sukta, rig veda~~~ he stood outside the room, unable to look in through the glass panel set in the door frame. blue door, white walls, a skirting of pale grey oil paint along the wall almost three feet high. an eerie silence all around.…
should the pillars of memory topple out of my reach, i must remake the air, the steam and the soil and the leaves ~~~ pablo neruda, from “memory” ~~~ millions of stars seemed to be rushing up at her. they twinkled blue, grey, yellow, red… which constellation was this? where were they going? khushi breathed in sharply. her cool sudden breath seemed to travel down to the base of her throat and stop, caught…the stars blinked. she closed her eyes…
i am bewildered by the magnificence of your beauty and wish to see you with a hundred eyes my heart has burned with passion and has searched forever for this wondrous beauty that I now behold ~~~ rumi, looking for your face ~~~ why did the oil look so dazzling? khushi frowned slightly. then the tear dropped from her eye and her vision cleared. “no, it is not dazzling, it was just my tear,” khushi thought blankly and held her…
i have walked through many lives, some of them my own, and i am not who I was, though some principle of being abides, from which I struggle not to stray. ~~~ stanley kunitz, the layers ~~~ khushi stared down at the little pink bag clutched in her hands. it was so tiny, a little shiny purse with brown edging and trimmings. her heart felt a desert wind blow through, shattered lay everything all around, a peculiar sensation right in…
darkness was hidden by darkness in the beginning, with no distinguishing sign, all this was water. the life force that was covered with emptiness, that one arose through the power of heat. desire came upon that one in the beginning, that was the first seed of mind. ~~~ the creation hymn, rig veda ~~~ “khushi!” her name passed through him, brushing softly against his vocal chords, making him exhale, giving him breath. the pain of the words gushing out of…
tendidos en la yerba una muchacha y un muchacho. comen naranjas, cambian besos como las olas cambian sus espumas. stretched out on the grass, a boy and a girl. savouring their oranges, giving their kisses like waves exchanging foam. ~~~ octavio paz, los novios – a boy and a girl ~~~ “khushi, help me no… i want to bake a cake for asr… you know i have been going for these baking classes and learning all those eggless recipes…” lavanya…