Zahir

Learning to paint the colours of the wind

2011-11-16T11:33:00.000-08:00

Did you know that dogs are colour-blind? They don’t seen colour, just like we can’t see time. We can feel it passing, but we can’t see it. It’s just a blur. It’s like we’re riding in a supersonic train and the world’s just blowing by. But hearing the unfinished tracks of Kailasa’s Rangeele at the bloggers meet made me feel that I could stop that train, get out, look around and see time for what it really is – a universe, a world, a thing, as unimaginable as colour to a dog. Hearing each track made me feel like the dog who saw a rainbow!

Learning to paint the colours of the wind

Ayesha Dominica Almeida

Every once in a while there comes something that changes the way you feel or think. But that’s so easy to do. After all, a tsunami can prompt the re-charting of an entire globe. But imagine something that settles in quiet as the morning dew. And makes you feel more impassioned or more wild about life itself. Like the rediscovery of a long forgotten hobby or maybe even the learning of a new art or, as I discovered, the new Kailasa album Rangeele.

An evolved sound, a freshness seldom felt now-a-days, a better togetherness, reality and truth personified, are just some of the many things you will feel and see in the new Kailasa album Rangeele. You will step into a world of love, passion, rambunctiousness, solitude, and a better understanding of how a world, when infused with colour, changes the way we look at things. 12 songs come together seamlessly to speak of concepts often felt, yet not always expressed well in words. From start to finish Rangeele embodies the Aldous Huxley saying, “After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”

Each person from Kailasa has come together seamlessly to create a work of art. From the notes pouring out of each instrument to the words coming out of each soul, the colour of sound comes out with passion and paints on the canvas of silences a picture so loud, that it could only be describing life itself!

Each track forces you to face a reality, as it gives you glimpses of fantasy. But it also shows how sometimes reality is just an illusion. The mechanisms of the scenes unfolding in each of the 12 tracks are but a play of light and shadow — a chimerical chiaroscuro, as the album unfolds in the sepia-toned landscape of your eyes.

Some of the tracks of Rangeele evoked feelings that I couldn’t hold back…

O Rangeele

Sometimes a word is worth a 1000 pictures. Every word in ‘O Rangeele’ paints a different picture. A phantasmagoric saga of the colours of life itself.

Albeliyah

Soothing. Soulful. Colourful. Paints a million pictures in shades of blue and red.

Tu kya jaane

The song feels like you are personally being asked the question and it’s being sung only for you.

Yaadan teriyan

It evokes pictures of flowing rivers, cascading mountains, and clouds running through your hands. It brings forth colours that soothe, yet set you on fire.

Bab-baji

Sheer tranquility. Bab-baji portrays sheer joy. It instills in your heart the kind of safety only you can give yourself.

Katha Gaan

It makes you think of a painter splashing colours around a huge canvas. You feel that it’s all one big mish-mash of colour and then you take a step back and realise that the complete picture is too stunning to even describe.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

2010-06-10T23:09:00.000-07:00

Pas a Pas se va luènh

I won’t lie. I wish that I could be your superman tonight

2010-03-12T11:25:00.000-08:00

Wounded, hated, hurt and jaded. Emotions we go through more times than a Churchgate local visits Churchgate! They say what doesn’t break us, only makes us stronger. We all know the reality cheque on that bounced long ago. It’s more like what doesn’t break us, wasn’t strong enough to do so. Everyone needs to be broken to be made whole. Some don’t find that inner fire to weld the breaks together. Some do. Many rather live broken. In a disposable culture, it’s just easier.
Notice how we’ve stopped repairing and started replacing? It starts with ordinary things like an iron whose coil needs to be changed. We go out and buy a new one. Saves us the trouble. The sad thing about ideas is that they don’t go through a trickle down effect till it’s sometimes too late. They begin small, move higher and then finally spread everywhere. Same with the idea of a disposal age. From an iron to a marriage, to societies and cultures. If they don’t work, we don’t fight, don’t try, don’t repair. Damaged and disposed. Serve the ego. So much so, those who really fight, land up with indelible scars. But has anyone ever stopped and wondered where it’s got us or how many people suffer? And in a country low on good psychological help and high on the need for it, it’s no wonder.
Have you listened to some of the music being made today? Seen the amount of songs written on hurt and pain and someone telling you through a song, let me be there for you? ‘I want to be your superman tonight.’ I’ve heard 9 in 2 weeks. Statistics don’t always lie. And many a time a failed marriage, a dying culture, a broken relationship, a breaking heart, a dead teenager, all become just that, another statistic!
Take a look at Bon Jovi’s Superman Tonight or Armin Van Buuren’s Broken Tonight, both speak about broken people and someone promising to help them. Who’s that someone special for you? Who’s that one person you can turn to when the lights go down? Who’s the one person who turns to you? Or as Bon Jovi says, ‘Who's going to save you when the stars fall from your sky? And who's going to pull you in when the tide gets too high? Who's going to hold you when you turn out the lights?’
I particularly remember a visit to India from a female actor. If I’m not mistaken it was Ashley Judd. She spoke about something very poignant and honestly, till that moment, I never believed that there was a single other person on God’s green earth other than I, who believed in this simple act. She very simply stated about her work with abused and abandoned children and women that she always told them the same thing. When they were weak and had no faith in themselves, when they were so broken and in pain, they couldn’t even cry, she asked them simply to let her carry their burden for a while, till they were strong enough to take over. And more importantly, to allow her to cry for them till they found the strength to cry their own tears.
For me, that’s always been a way to help someone since when I was in school. I was pleasantly surprised to know that someone else did the same. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing that you can be there for someone. Do you know what one of the most treasured gifts in this life is? To have someone whom you know for a fact doesn’t trust anyone come up to you and tell you 3 simple words – I trust you. It opens up doors to lasting friendship and it opens you to the fact that you hold a treasure in your hand more precious than anything you can ever imagine. Remember the disposal culture I mentioned earlier? Makes it also very hard to trust. Don’t treat the gift lightly.
If you need a shoulder to lean on, ASK. If you can be a shoulder to lean on, OFFER. Remember the footprints in the sand story? For me it’s always been slightly different. Every time I walked I always saw two sets of prints in the sand. But in the rotten times, none of the two sets belonged to me. Strange? Not really. In the good times it was my friends and I. In the bad, the footprints belonged to God and the friends who have always been by my side. I was the one being carried but by two people. So whose footprints will you be today and who will be yours someday?
It’s a universal truth that you aren’t alone.
As Collin Raye said, ‘I laugh, I love, I hope, I try, I hurt, I need, I fear, I cry. And I know you do the same things too. So we're really not that different. Me and you.’

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Moonlight Murmurs

2009-05-11T03:32:00.000-07:00

He lies broken, awaiting the healing

The moonlight kisses his body

Softening the lines etched into his brow

His soft moans are eaten up by the quietness of the night

As his mind searches for the peace to end his body’s fight

A memory tickles his senses

Suddenly, the six are all alive

His eyes hunt for the elusive feeling

His mind starts to play truant to the sweet excesses

But long before reality can deny the source, his soul confesses

It is like post-its everywhere

The soothing gentleness of her body

That sweet smile, which spreads around him

Her kindness that cocoons him, removing all doubt

He curls up inside her, breathing within, yet without

The sheets radiate her softness

The pillows convey her warmth

Every corner bestows a whiff of her perfume

He allows himself to rest, as, into her safety he slides

As, with the darkness, his love for her, he confides

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Booked for Life - 3

2007-05-14T03:29:00.000-07:00

(My latest journey through the leaves of time took me to Afghanistan. A stark, moving and reality-jolting journey, this book has brought with it strength, pain, a need to bring redemption to a few lives and the thought that I've had one too many books and movies on hurting, trying and road-to-redemption Father-Son relationship tales brought to my doorstep, barge in without knocking and seat themselves on my pillow; their gaze piercing, till I give them my undivided attention. This was one of those; as the Goo Goo Dolls would say, 'You can't stop the tears that ain't coming' kinda journey.)

The Kite Runner

Khaled Hosseini

Some day we shall know the truth of a circumstance, a situation, or sometimes of our very own behaviour and this truth will make us mad. But now this mad has to become constructive. No feeling or emotion is right or wrong. It is how you act upon it that is. It is human tendency to react. But it is also human responsibility to rise above and convert reaction to action.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Exquisite Taste of Life

2007-05-11T00:02:00.000-07:00

Ever beside the pure flame of the heat of the Indian summer, comes a drink that refreshes the fierce passion for the fiery eyed beauty of this season. Summer is here. Come, refresh your self this season with the purity of Water.

Have you ever scaled the heights of a mountain? And then when you took that pit-stop, sat yourself down on a ledge by a laughing spout of water gushing forth from the rock, transforming into a babbling brook to empty itself into a crystal clear mountain lake? And while you sat on that ledge you dangled your legs in the stream just to let the gently lapping waters have a crush on you. To let them break, just to do you with a million droplets, to watch them rise and fall and chant your name a million times. To see the waters turn away, pause and rush back to touch you again…and again.
All you hear is your breathing. All you see are the varied hues of dragon flies hovering over. All you touch is beauty. All you feel is purity. Water: crystal clear, peaceful, pure, life itself.
If there is one thing that symbolises life more than any other element, it is water. It makes up 71 per cent of the Earth’s surface, it consists of around 70 per cent of our bodily fluids, and make up and preserve the very building blocks of life.
And there is nothing more refreshing and utterly fascinating seeing water in its most natural habitat originating from a mountain and flowing down to the plains, perennially or maybe freezing up in winter into mysterious and soft snow or glistening ice to once again thaw in the spring and turn the world warm again.
And in this awe-inducing yet known hydrological cycle have you ever looked at the water in your glass and ponder how it made its way there? How does our drinking water fit into this hydrologic cycle? Where did the water we drink fall as precipitation? Did this water percolate down into the ground as part of a groundwater system, or did it remain on the surface as part of a surface water system? What path did this water follow in order to become our drinking water? Have you ever explored the hydrologic cycle and water's journey to your glass?
Water falls as precipitation to the earth. Once it falls, some water percolates into the ground, but some of it crosses fields as runoff and enters streams. These streams empty into the rivers, which cross the boundaries and eventually enter into reservoirs, which then might directly make its way to your tap or purifier and of course ultimately your glass. One long, arduous yet fulfilling journey for the free falling element.
Or maybe it might just take that in between pit-stop at a bottling plant to be stripped off its impurities. Such that, that one sip takes you back up to the mountain, locked in that time zone of your own to rediscover that life is not solely comprised of tasks but tastes. Taste not just for the good things in life, but for the little things that make life good. Water—the exquisite taste of life.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Booked For Life - 2

2007-05-05T00:50:00.000-07:00

(Here's another treasure I found on one of my many treasure hunts across the topography of the book world)

Labyrinth
by Kate Moss
What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we are and what we did. An imprint, no more. I have learned much. I have become wise. But have I made a difference? I cannot tell. Pas a pas, se va luènh.
I have watched the green of spring give way to the gold of summer, the copper of autumn give way to the white of winter as I have sat and waited for the fading light. Over and over again I have asked myself why? If I had known how it would feel to live with such loneliness, to stand, the sole witness to the endless cycle of birth and life and death, what would I have done?

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Red Strokes - Garth Brooks

2007-05-03T21:29:00.000-07:00

(And since I'm on this train of thought...let me add this song, which is my all time favourite country song. Don't remember if i've put his on my blog before, but this morning calls for this to be reiterated.
They say that sometimes a word is worth a 1000 pictures. This song speaks more than just volumes. It talks about love, taking one, from the human to the divine to the sublime.)

Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine
Two shadows starting to softly combine
The picture they're painting
Is one of the heart
And to those who have seen it
It's a true work of art

Oh, the red strokes
Passions uncaged
Thundering moments of tenderness rage
Oh, the red strokes
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)
Burning the night like the dawn

Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this
Inspired by a vision
That they can't command
Erasing the borders
With each brush of a hand

Oh, the blues will be blue and the jealousies green
But when love picks its shade it demands to be seen

Steam on the window, salt in a kiss
Two hearts have never pounded like this...

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Love, Me

2007-05-03T21:24:00.000-07:00

(One of the most sensual and soul touching lines I have ever heard in a love poem.)

I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry tree...

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Come Unity Can Be Ours

2007-05-03T21:19:00.000-07:00

(This is something i found recently while going through my files. I had written this piece many years ago...maybe 7 years now...but it still chills my blood and haunts my dreams. The language is child-like compared to my normal style of writing. Don't know why I took this style...but i did...)

“I awoke one morning to find blood on my hands; not mine, but that of the child I had killed the previous day. I thought I had washed it off, but it seemed to be still there – staring, invisible, hurting, stinging, screeching. It suddenly felt wrong… so wrong. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I had killed before; I had taken lives. But why did I suddenly feel so different?

I got up and switched on the TV it showed the destruction that my men and I had caused. As I watched the scenes, they felt ghastly, even gross. The scenes were eating me inside. I was personally witnessing the mass destruction that I, along with a few others, had created. I felt a stab of guilt. What was happening to me? I realised I was personally witnessing the destruction of my soul, my own mind and my body along with that of my country. I said I was patriotic and loyal to my country. I loved my country. Then did destroying it mean loving it…? Whoa! That thought really hit me. It hit me so hard that I sat back on my sofa and had to hold the armrest for support. It got me thinking. Why had I done this? I said I was helping people. But did killing one part mean helping another part? Why was I doing all this? Why so much violence over one issue. Ayodhya, Gujarat, Mumbai, Godhra – violence everywhere. To build a temple or a mosque or something totally different? Have a puja or not? Kill or not to kill? In the end the whole thing comes down to one issue: communalism; Hindu-Muslim divide. To divide or to unify?

And yet I see places where people are one, irrespective of caste, creed or race. Hindus helping Muslims and vice versa. All religions helping each other. The only question is to live or not to live. I question myself for the third time: Why am I really doing this? For pleasure? What job is this? The money earned is blood money, no doubt… not mine, but somebody else’s.

The whole incident has set me thinking. Why not stop the violence, the bloodshed and the pain and really be patriotic and loving? Let’s make it a free country where one doesn’t worry about violence. Why I am thinking these thoughts do not ask. I’ve had a change of heart, you could say. My fellow terrorists, it took the blood of one innocent child to wake me up. How many will it take to wake you up to the reality of the shackles that bind our country? One, two… ten? Stop the violence now. Let’s make our country free: free to breathe, live and love. Let’s be truly patriotic and give up our violent and evil ways.

“Let’s stop existing and start living!”

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Booked for Life

2007-05-01T22:17:00.000-07:00

Every book to me is a journey I have undertaken. An adventure, a treasure hunt, a slice of life, an exploration of self. I may not have physically travelled the world but I feel like I’ve been to so many places. Some creations of the mind, others that exist in reality. On one of my many visits to Planet M, my friendly neighbourhood music man gave me a map to an adventure that will forever be undertaken by me, no matter how often the hands of time turn around. Here is the treasure I found on this exploration.

Bono in Conversation with Michka Assayas

Zahir's Log: April 2007:
I’ve been wounded, jaded, hurt, and hated. But most of all loved. So I locked myself away in my ivory tower. In the forsaken wilderness that I had made mine, the love and life I had to continue living and offering found me in the form of a book. This one.
Through the tumultuous array of conversations between Michka and Bono, I discovered my elusive truth. A deeper understanding into the men I love and who, more importantly; love me. I make no qualms that this has been one uncomfortable, questioning, thought provoking, to-hell-with-my-pride-let-it-fall-like-rain-from-my-eyes, kind of journey. As Bono signs off before he’s ‘gotta run’; “A life unquestioned is not one you should envy.”
I took my first steps down the west wall of my ivory tower with Bono and Michka on either side of me, holding my hands. The earth has turned away from the sun. My journey continues…

Pas a Pas se va luènh

The Last Ten Years (Superman)

2007-03-24T09:10:00.000-07:00

Artist/Band: Kenny Rogers
Lyrics for Song: The Last Ten Years (Superman)
Lyrics for Album: Water & Bridges

Oh, the last ten years, it's been quite trip
Over thirty-six-hundred spins around without a cosmic slip
But within the realm of our atmosphere
We're 'bout as out of whack as we've ever been in a million years
We watched the Y2K scare in a panic
An' we watched as time proved Nostrodamus wrong
An' we watched as Mother Nature shook the planet
An' cellular replaced the telephone
We lost Charlie Brown, Ray Charles an' Johnny Cash
We even lost Superman, mhm.

Well, the last ten years, look at the hills we've climbed
The best golfer's black, the best rapper's white an' it's about damn time
But we best beware, there's a brand new fight, you see
An' I hate to say we might be our own worst enemy
We watched Oklahoma sifting through the damage
An' we watched a US President get caught
We watched shareholders watch their savings vanish
We all cried when we watched those towers fall
We lost Minnie Pearl, Ron Reagan and Sam I Am
We even lost Superman, mhm.

Expensive gas an' free downloads
The dot-com boom, an' reality shows
What's gonna happen next is anybody's guess
Satellite radio and hybrid cars
Hand-held computers an' a trip to Mars
It's all become a part of who we are
In the last ten years.

In the last ten years
We lost George Harrison,
John Paul and June Carter-Cash
Hell, we even lost Superman
Gonna miss you, Chris...

Pas a Pas se va luènh

The Class

2007-03-01T09:12:00.001-08:00

We took the world as given. Cigarettes
Were 20-several cents a pack, & gas
As much per gallon. Sex came wrapped
in rubber
And veiled in supernatural scruples—
call
Them chivalry…

Psychology was in the mind; abstract
Things grabbed us where we lived; the
only life
Worth living was the private life, and—
last
Worst scandal in this characterisation—
We did not know we were a generation.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

The Chronicles of Riddick

2007-02-21T20:33:00.000-08:00

Cast
Vin Diesel .... Riddick
Colm Feore .... Lord Marshal
Thandie Newton .... Dame Vaako
Judi Dench .... Aereon
Karl Urban .... Vaako
Alexa Davalos .... Kyra
Directed and Written by David Twohy

It is a dark time in the universe.
Planet after planet is falling to an unholy army of Necromongers -- conquering warriors who offer ravaged worlds a simple choice -- convert or die.
Those who refuse their rule hope in vain for someone or something that will slow the spread of Necromongers. But rebels are short-lived and saviours, are in short supply.
When things get bad, weary survivors turn to myths for comfort -- murmured prophecies, vain hopes, legends of good vanquishing evil.
But good isn’t always the antidote to evil and legends can be wrong.
Sometimes the only way to stop evil is not with good -- but with another kind of evil.
So an unlikely figure is summoned from exile and asked to join the fight: Riddick, who couldn’t care less who’s in charge of the universe, just as long as he’s left alone.
To him, it’s all the same, apocalypse or no -- this one-man army is interested only in saving his own life.
Get in his way and he’ll gladly take yours.
But something has been set in motion, and the coming confrontation propels him into a series of epic, winner-take-all battles: from an idyllic, multi-cultural civilization under siege; to the baroque Necro mothership and the seat of power in their black empire -- the Basilica.
In the final battle, it is foretold that the fate of all may depend upon the destiny of one Furyan.
And all the power in the universe cannot stop destiny.

Review: The Chronicles of Riddick

Writer/director David Twohy has been granted a key to unlock his imagination to the fullest extent imaginable with this risky sci-fi epic. Necromongers, Furians, Elementals, oh my! The Pitch Black sequel has an array of cast and characters that bring colour, cacophony and chaos to the screen. The explosive story plays out amidst an array of civilizations, including the light-infused Helion Prime, the scorching Crematoria, the icy wilderness of Planet U.V. 6. With specially designed space vehicles, weaponry, technology and gadgetry, The Chronicles of Riddick fills the screen with a newly discovered universe.
What appeals most about this film is Richard B. Riddick(Vin Diesel), its anti-hero. As he Diesel himself states, “He’s the quintessential anti-hero. It takes 45 minutes in the movie just for Riddick to understand the word heroism, let alone for anyone to hope he can be heroic. That’s cool. That’s real. You can invest in this guy’s spiritual growth. He’s a guy that embraces that indifference and doesn’t care what anybody thinks about it, who wants to be left alone. He’s a guy that thinks that anything that happens with the universe has nothing to do with him and he doesn’t care. That’s kind of cool!” the most exotic and stunning part of this anti-hero are his eyes and hence his ability to see in the dark. Pitch Black explains why and how Riddick came to posses such eyes and ability.
The supporting cast give feel and body to the movie. Alexa Davalos returns in the sequel as Kyra; a young woman whose toughness and deadliness almost matches Riddick’s. Thandie Newton as Dame Vaako is the carnal, stunning and ambitious partner of a Necromonger commander, Vaako. Karl Urban plays Vaako, the young Necro commander whose loyalty to his leader, Lord Marshal, is sorely tested by his fiercely ambitious wife. Colm Feore as the sixth Lord Marshal is the Necro supreme leader, the highest, holiest and deadliest of all known Necromongers. Linus Roache as The Purifier is a high-ranking figure among the Necros in charge of converting the ranks of the newly-captured. Keith David (reprising his role from Pitch Black) as Imam, is a cleric familiar with Riddick from their previous experiences in the Taurus system. The holy man’s goodness and compassion are rare commodities in Riddick’s universe. Yorick van Wageningen as The Guv acts as the informal leader of the inmates housed in one of the universe’s worst prisons -- the Slam on the planet Crematoria. Nick Chinlund as Toombs, a veteran and formidable mercenary is intent on capturing Riddick.
And one of the world’s most distinguished performers, Academy Award winner Judi Dench as Aereon, is the mysterious ambassador from a rarefied race - The Elementals, the race that calculates the odds in the universe. Her role in the proceedings remains as elusive as her amorphous shape.
As we are all human, these actors have their faults. Karl Urban as Vaako, sometimes seems confused and even slow. Nick who plays Toombs is a very unsure actor, like he doesn’t know what he is doing there. Yorick van Wageningen has a mediocre role in an important scene.
This story builds up from the start, but tends to slacken quite a few times. Yet it eventually settles down in adventure mode. What stunned me the most about this movie is that it draws plenty of parallels with the real world. Right from the fulfilling of prophecy that a Furore will one day kill the Lord Marshal and how he sets about killing the entire Furyan race, right up to the Necromongers enforcing their religion on everyone, parallels abound. It seems to speak of Jesus, even though here his character is an anti-hero, though that too depends on ones definition of a hero. The enforcing of religion reminds one of first, Bush making mandatory his kind of democracy on every other nation as he conquers them and then of Hitler and the formation of a pure race. The elementals, which come and go with the wind and on a breeze, very much bring to mind various characters like muses, oracles and women with a penchant for the mysterious.
This film tackles issues like how every one of us has two sides and there is always evil and good within, it depends on us which to let conquer. The Necromongers adorn everything from their helmets to the streets of the worlds they conquer with images of their three-faced god (i.e. Father, Son and Holy Spirit), and they revere statuettes of a mysterious tortured figure with outstretched arms. Though they attempt to show respect to their god by adding a visual element to their worship, they seem more devoted to the image and not what that image represents. It portrays the different faces of evil, and how each wages a war in order to emerge victorious.
In the film, the Necromongers live by the motto "Obedience without question, loyalty till Underverse comes." One follower explains to his wife that the cult leader's fear equals weakness, thus justifying an assassination attempt as a means to "protect the faith". This is so true of what happens due to fanaticism and warped interpretations of various religions. It is true that embodying faith does not justify the discarding of love.
While the theology, spirituality and reality parallels of this film is far from completely realized, the fact that a highly commercial movie like this even attempts to introduce such topics is to be applauded.
There is something for everyone in this tale, even though it might come in bits and pieces. For all Geography lovers the entire concept of the planet called Crematoria in the Igneous Galaxy is brilliant. The whole idea behind a planet that has a temperature of nearly minus 0 degrees centigrade by evening and 700 degrees when the sun rises, fuels your imagination ten fold. The most striking sequence is where Riddick and the gang must outrun a rising, blazing sun on the fire-laden planet, through snow and sleet. The special effects truly show the rising of the sun and its subsequent scorching of the earth beautifully. The view of the planet from space, with one half covered in ice and the other half slowly catching fire as the sun is rising, enhances the beauty and the action of the scene.
Jargon like ‘Ascension protocol’, ‘Underverse’, ‘Verse’, etc leave the viewer a little lost in the beginning. The terms need more explanation in order to grasp their entire meaning. This film does better than its predecessor Pitch Black. But it still falls short of a particular category in which to place itself. It falls between sci-fi, thriller and action and yet cannot be placed solely in any one category. This is its major pitfall since unlike Bollywood; Hollywood does separate its films into genres. The special effects are a plus point, and a major one at that. Yet only if you really love the aforementioned points of the film will you truly believe it to be a decent, viewable, comprehendible film. Otherwise it falls far down a chasm you wouldn’t go even to get eyes like Riddick’s!

Pas a Pas se va luènh

X3—The Last Stand

2007-02-21T20:28:00.000-08:00

Will you sacrifice your individuality on the altar of acceptance?

Pas a Pas se va luènh

One

2007-01-03T03:45:00.002-08:00

Is it getting better?
Or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you now?
You got someone to blame
You say

One love
One life
When it's one need
In the night
One love
We get to share it
Leaves you baby if you
Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it's

Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One

Have you come here for forgiveness?
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus?
To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much?
More than a lot.
You gave me nothing,
Now it's all I got
We're one
But we're not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again
You say
Love is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can't be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters
Brothers
One life
But we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other

One
One

Pas a Pas se va luènh

2006-11-16T01:40:00.000-08:00

…I’m in love with you
This ain't the honeymoon
Past the infatuation phase
Right in the thick of love
At times we get sick of love
It seems like we argue everyday…
“Honeymoon stage”, he commented as a couple rode by on a bike with the girl doing some lovey-dovey gesture to the boy. “They are going through their 6 month honeymoon phase, the best time in any relationship. Ah I recall my honeymoon phase”, he wistfully remembered. We all laughed. “But yours was a 5 year honeymoon, right?” He looked askance at me. “3 and a half years”, I corrected him. “3 and a half years”, he repeated. “And then the honeymoon is over and the madness starts. With all the—You-don’t-spend-any-time-with-me, you-don’t-love-me-anymore.” The three of us laughed some more. Suddenly, unbidden, I felt bitter. And my goddamn voice reflected it. I think I sounded hysterical. “Ah well I never went through the post-honeymoon phase. I had no choice. One moment it’s the honeymoon, the next he’s walked out and flown to Goa and poof, gone!” It’s the first time they had seen me show emotion over the divorce. It shocked me more than it stunned them.
Divorce. What an ugly word. But it’s the only word that does justice to what happened between us. Ours was no ordinary break up. In fact ours was no break up. It was just that. A divorce. With all its ugliness, all the trappings, all the pain, all the madness, all the division, all the mornings-after and all the sweet nothings that would become just that—nothing! Without the marriage of course!

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Beyond the Cuts and Seams

2006-11-07T00:59:00.000-08:00

A fabric, a garment, an outfit. A thought, a design, a creation. All woven together through the looms of time to make a subtle statement, an indelible mark, a way of life is what one discovers at this year’s Lakmé Fashion Week

Fashion’s on a trip — a colourful high involving pastels, flowing cuts and fits and East meets West silhouettes. The Lakmé Fashion Week held from October 31-November 4, 2006 at the NCPA, Mumbai showcased just this as it urged everyone to get ready for a fun-filled and subtle yet eye catching summer. Featuring established, emerging and Gen Next designers along with brands and accessory designers, the Lakmé Fashion Week had appearances to emulate, designs to desire, and labels to target. The collections of established designers like Sabyasachi Mukherjee, Pria Kataria Puri, Vikram Phadnis, Priyadarshini Rao, Lascelles Symons, Wendell Rodricks, Narendra Kumar, Surily Goel, Sanchita Ajjampur, to name a few; took to the ramp to show people how to groove to the new beauty beat along with foreign designers like Nathalie Garcon, Leonard Paris, Clive Rundle, and South African fashion house Sun Goddess. Emerging designers like Anand Kabra, Chaitanya Rao, Julie Kagti, Payal Singhal, Bhumika and Shyamal Shodhan, Nikasha Tawdey, etc helped everyone feel the many spirited moods that spring and summer bring. Gen Next designers like Abdul Halder, Rushabh Maniar also added to the sizzle of the season.
After the excesses of the 80s, the nose-dives of the 90s, the dynamic mysticism of the millennium has brought a return to the fundamental values in modern life. Simplicity, style, all-encompassing philosophies, broader outlooks have been the necessity of every generation. Life today covers all this and offers many alternatives, allowing everyone to create their own individualistic selves. Designers at the Lakmé Fashion Week brought to life the mood for Spring/Summer 2007, which is contemporary; where the classics in our lives can be combined with the psychedelic and sophisticated meets streetwise with chic consequences.
The earth and sky combined to form loose cuts and flowing fits, happiness reflected its vibrant colour palette through suspended mirrors, a sea shell brought to life an array of apparel and the sun shone to bring the flame of the Indian summer to the ramp. Grand fashion concepts aren’t just yanked from thin air. Before pen has even reached the drawing board; something has acted as a muse, be it an age, a structure, or a work of art. Designers brought out their inspiration for the vivid patterns that will make the flavour of summer through pastels, polka dots, florals, khadi, chiffons, georgettes and more.
Down the ages, clothing the body and in turn the soul, has played an important role in our lives. It is a new season and with each new one comes change, some broader and more radical than the last. New ideas, scandalous insanities, life itself; all found their way into the Lakmé Fashion Week 2006. Vibrant hues, flowing cuts, hedonistic fabrics found themselves imposed on garments or accessories to create an identity. The Fashion Week was all about the unspoken…the body seeking nirvana in style.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Panoply of Possibilities

2006-10-17T23:38:00.000-07:00

Iridescent Old-Arabian nights protract into mornings. Serenity and opportunity waits around every corner. Inhibitions slide, your senses take over. You are being welcomed to live the experience that is Dubai

A consolidated empire, laws that were codified, an emirate as glorious a metropolis as it has always been even in days of yore. Dubai is a place of old world protocol and sumptuous dining, of international businesses and sensuously beautiful souqs, of properties beckoning inhabitation and those that have already had their call answered, of encouraging investment markets and inviting business ventures.
I had expected to be intrigued by Dubai, and to admire it; I had not expected to be awed. It has absorbed an array of cultures and people and yet it is different from all of them. There is something immensely enigmatic for me about the shift one perceives, while delving into a place, from the past to the future, from the Bedouin way of desert dwelling nomadic life to the settled yet dynamic city life, from the opulence, majesty and quiet dignity of yore to the simplicity, ‘slim-line’ feeling and sleekness that only technology can bring. It is a gradation of sights, of structural design, of gradually retreating minarets intermingled with advancing glass buildings, of the very look of oases and sand dunes, so that little by little you begin to believe you can read in nature itself the saturation of history. Does the shoulder of an Arabian hillside really look so unlike the slope of an Indian meadow? Of course not. And yet the distinction is as impracticable to eliminate from the eye as the history that enlightens it is from the mind.
And it is not only reaching back into history that tells of a place or people gone by; sometimes history itself reaches inexorably forward for us to tell us where we are going. Dubai has been making leap after quantum leap. After all, a gateway to the East and West means opening up of new vistas and access to places, international businesses, ventures, and people.
Tourism is obviously a major industry here. Says Pravin Nanda, GM Dubai Grand Hotel, “People visit Dubai for 4 reasons. One is historical; for Pearl Diving, the heritage village, to feel a taste of the rustic Arabian charm. Secondly they come here to experience the sights and sounds, the beautiful places engulfed in beauty. People also come here for the security that Dubai provides. One can walk the streets at 3 or 4 a.m. and be absolutely safe. People don’t even lock their cars. It is safe for women. And the crime rate is very low. Fourthly and definitely not the least of the reasons is for shopping, to get the best deals on the best products.”
This also leads to the booming of other industries like the Hotel Industry which should double up by October 2007 and where everyone gets good value for money.
When oil was discovered in 1966, Sheikh Rashid made use of these revenues to stimulate infrastructural expansion in Dubai. The swiftness of development continued at a fever pitch. Project after project left the drawing board to make the impossible into a possible phenomenon. The World, Burj Dubai, the Hydropolis, the Restless Planet theme park, Ski Dubai, The Mall of Arabia, are all either a reality or will soon leave the drawing boards.
With so many new projects being conceptualised and executed investment in property becomes the thereby subsequent step. Syed Ali Anwer, CEO, 3D Venture Real Estate Company explains, “Dubai is Duty Free, crime free, tax free, offers security and safety. It has world class shopping malls, a multi cultural society, best medical and health care, holiday resorts, sports facilities, entertainment centres, an innovative, dynamic and entrepreneurial business culture. Dubai is politically stable and has a forward-looking responsive Government with business friendly regulations, which has played a key role in attracting business investments from all over the world.” “Invest. But invest now. As it is the right time to get on the boat”, reiterates Syed Ali Anwer.
The question being asked today is, ‘Is there an upward momentum in terms of property prices or is Dubai still low-priced and economical?’ Fact of the matter is that it will continue moving upward but the property prices still offer a very good bargain compare to the world’s cosmopolitan cities. Statistics show that the demand due to promotion is too high and will keep increasing even if supply is met thus producing a major hike in the pricing. It will take time for correction to take place and prices to come down to normal. The curve will take at least 5 years to come down but the future will see stability from 2012 onwards and by 2017/2020 correction will occur. To keep up with all this, it is sensible for any investor to invest now and thus not be at a loss. Thus putting to rest any fears that the prices will continue rising and demand may never meet supply.
Dubai is now no more a one stop weekend paradise but a place where one can indulge, invest and even provide incentives for others. From tourism to property to infrastructure, from markets to boardrooms to your very own living room, Dubai epitomizes the phrase, “Even the impossible says I’M POSSIBLE”.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Dubai - To Do (Or What To Do?)

2006-10-17T23:22:00.000-07:00

Broadening horizons, adding spice, captivating the senses and calling you. Everything should feel this good...

If the most accurate judge of time is a clock, the most sensitive is surely Dubai. It has cultivated its heritage carefully, keeping itself trimmed neither ostentatiously nor in an unstylish manner, walking neither too near to the past nor too far from it, neither too quickly nor too slowly from progress. It has taught itself to pay more attention to the broader picture than to the centre of its vision, thus building itself and expanding into the complete experience for everyone.

Seasons in the Sun
Not just a weekend destination but an ‘any-day-of-the-week’ one. Not just a getaway but a wholesome, fulfilling holiday. The Dubai of now: a place where the frantic pace of modern life slows down enough for you to enjoy it.

The Arabian Experience
Dubai has taken its historical artifacts, monuments, texts, traditions, picked up oil along the way and marched boldly with it all through the streets and souqs of old Arabia into the corporate, much heralded and well blended globalised world.

Summer Surprises
Modhesh! Amazing! That’s what summers are supposed to be. 1998 brought a series of surprises to this season with the starting of the Dubai Summer Surprises (DSS). In its 9th year this year and held between June 21 and September 21, 2006, DSS increased surprises ten-fold with its 10 Surprises and more. Modhesh, the yellow mascot for DSS has been bringing fun and cheer to children and adults as he ushers in something for everyone.

Nocturnal Lures
A taste of the desert night air gives one transparency to clear the day’s dust and grime. A taste of its culture at venues throughout the city offer a time to begin a new journey into a new experience. International events, concerts, music artistes, film festivals all provide space and time to adjust to this new world.

Centre Stage
Dubai Creek
The earth gleams still and deep like an opal in the gentle morning sun. A calm breeze gently scallops the creek’s surface at the edges and scrapes the dust across the land. Giving birth to this city and remaining the very lifeblood of Dubai, Dubai Creek has an enticing magnetism for visitors here.

Souqs
The market shimmers into view. Evocative of a scene from the Arabian Nights, the network of tiny lanes and by lanes meander on either side of the creek and other parts of Dubai. Men, women and children don’t just sell their wares but demand a return to the old market rules of bargaining and barter. A sensory invasion few want to run away from.

Bastakiya
Bastakiya gives a peek into the alluring and enticing old city. Thin lanes bear houses with tall chimney-like structures called wind-towers to cool homes naturally. Renovated, preserved and protected Bastakiya now houses a museum, cultural centre, restaurants and a heritage hotel with an art gallery.

Bird Watching
The climate of any country tells of its flora and fauna. A tidal wetland right on its doorstep, within a few minutes off the centre of the town, the scorching desert heat, the cooling desert night, the gulf, all have given rise to a varied array of bird species.

Spirited Sports
Snow (Hey Oh)!
Night is day and winter is summer. And sand is snow. And maybe the gods have gone crazy. But, wait before you pinch yourself. There is snow in the sweltering heat of Dubai. Welcome to Ski Dubai, which opened in December last year and is an indoor ski resort set within a 6.5 million square feet complex. From ski runs of all types for all ages to themed restaurants to an exclusive retail shop to professional instructors.

Golf
An old luxury, a new leisure, Dubai offers this sport with élan. Bragging premier golf courses, challenging ones with varying tee and pin positions, yet enjoyable and rewarding, Dubai has been voted the world’s leading golf destination by the IGTOA.

Horse Riding
Horses have been the pride of tradition here. Riding thorough the desert with the wind in your hair, one can literally paint a picture with the sand as your canvas and the horse as your paintbrush.

Adventure Tourism and Water Sports
Everyone has a wild side. And Dubai provides just the opportunity to unleash it with sports like Mountain Climbing, Sky Jumping, Scuba Diving, Go Karting, Wadi Bashing, Dune Bashing and Sand Storming. Caressed by the waters of the Gulf, Dubai offers diving down to the rich marine life and mysterious wrecks. Sailing and windsurfing are other attractions. Racing and jet skiing add to the thrill of this chase.

Super- Shopping- Dooper- Dubai!
Trust Dubai to tap into and cater to the hilt the one gene that is inbuilt in some, acquired by others and just doesn’t go down with a few. Dubai has taken the business of shopping seriously—right from its historical souqs to its modern malls and shopping villages. The Dubai Duty Free and the Dubai Shopping Festival ranks high on any shopper’s list with discounts and knick-knacks and what-nots.

Carte du jour – Dubai
Culinary experiences in Dubai call for conspicuous consumption. Be it the soul feeding Middle Eastern cuisine or the stomach filling Asian dishes, or the appetite satisfying junk food and even the heart beating romantic dinner cruises in traditional sailing dhows, Dubai gives new meaning to the term ‘food for thought.’

Dubai is thus the paradise that broke the mould once it was created. Come take a ride on this dreamland express and don’t miss a single moment of the sheer bliss offered here.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Unconceived

2006-10-17T23:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Daddy (that might never be mine),
I heard mummy cry out into the silence the other day, “How must one grieve for an unconceived child?” I heard grandma and grandpa telling mummy a few days earlier that I would have been a very beautiful baby. I remember you saying that I would have mummy’s brains and your looks. And then you held mummy and kissed her forehead and told her that you love her. You told mummy you wanted a boy because a girl would be so very difficult for you to scold or correct. That she would twist you round her little finger and then you would have yourself all twisted out over two women instead of one. And then you laughed that laugh that I often hear mummy describing as ‘beautiful laughter because it comes from his heart’. I hear mummy laughing that laugh too as she warns you that the prospect of a boy or girl lies entirely on you. You reach out and squeeze her hand, she smiles that special smile for you and rests her head on your shoulder. And I think, my mummy and daddy love each other very much. I can’t wait to be born.
I hear mummy crying again. But she was just so happy. No. That was a few months ago. Before the nightmare started. It is only a nightmare right? Now I only see mummy, living from moment to painful moment. Daddy’s what’s wrong? Why is mummy alone? Where are you? Why is a love that was so close, stretching thin across the seas and sands of stubbornness and idiocy and misconceptions and misunderstandings? I know daddy, I know. Big words right? I heard mom utter them the other night when she was on her knees praying? What did she mean?
Daddy where are you? What happened? Did I do something? But then I’m not born yet am I? I’m not even conceived! Don’t look so shocked daddy. Yes. I am your unconceived child. Yes daddy, I might not be born physically, but your love for mummy made me real. I’m not some preconceived notion or just any unborn child. Daddy, did you stop loving mom? Did you stop loving me? Did you stop loving yourself? But then if I am a child made real by love, shouldn’t I be dead now? Does this mean you still love mummy and me?
Did you know that mom really wanted to have your baby, namely me? Do you know that she still wants to? Do you know that the she believed the most beautiful gift you gave her was that of wanting only her to carry me? That it was one of the main things that would get her through the tough times when you weren’t around physically?
I would sit for hours and watch you and mummy as you lived your lives. Always loving each other; whether you argued, debated, played, slept, breathed, lived.
Love. An elusive word. I hear mummy call out your name so often in a day saying she loves you, praying that you both love each other beyond forever and find your way back to each other. Sometimes I hear her mumbling, at others fighting with herself, at still others just staring into space and letting the tears fall. And I ask myself, is this what love is all about? Pain? Then I want no part in it. Then I see mummy holding her tummy. She’s been doing that pretty often recently. She says she loves me. And she loves you. And I can feel it. And I want to be loved. If I, who isn’t even conceived as yet can feel her love, can you feel it daddy?
Every morning and every night she blows a flying kiss out of her window and sends an “I love you too” your way. Do you receive it? Do you understand it? Because I sure don’t. I don’t understand how you could have walked out wherever you have walked out to. I don’t get why you left. I don’t know how mummy still loves you more and more with each passing moment. At times I think she’ll implode with the love she has for you.
Is this one of those “nothing tastes better than unrequited love” kind of tales? Everyone keeps saying how strong mummy is to go through all this. How mummy is so brave and people look up to her. But do you know daddy that her love for you and yours for her is the only thing that keeps her going?
The other day she walked into the kitchen to make tea and then pour herself a cup, and she unconsciously picked up another and nearly poured that extra cup and then she just all but dropped that cup like it was on fire. She backed out in a trance and walked to the dining table, whipped open the drawer and pulling out a piece of paper. This is what she wrote.
“I miss you at the oddest of times. But then in love, nothing is odd. And everything is rare. This living without you is a new experience and one I do not care to live. And more so because it has been forced upon me for a reason I do not comprehend and for the fact that you lied to me.
I miss you during the oddest of moments. Like today when I made tea. I was about to pour a cup for you as well. And realised you didn’t drink from that cup anymore.
As I sat by my parents bedside the past two days while they’ve been so very sick and as I held my dad’s hand and soothed his fever, willing it to go away and hearing my mum cry in pain, I unconsciously reached for your hand. Didn’t find it. So I reached for my phone to call you and stopped myself in time. I was scared sitting at the edge of my parents bed, in the dark, offering comfort when my own self sought a solace only you could provide. I missed you.
I miss you with the oddest of instants. When I was at mass last week, I reached out for your hand to press your fingers and play our little game. All I found was cold hard wood.
Every evening between 6 and 8 I miss you the most. While I’m on my way home and I walk out of the station and not find you standing at the ticket counter. And then when I ride home in the auto rickshaw alone. I miss you in the middle of the oddest of occasions.
I was blowing my hair from my face the other day and it refused to move. And I wondered why because it always did after a few tries. And then I remembered it was because you always brushed it aside and gently tucked it in. I miss you in the oddest of situations.”
I miss you too daddy. I miss you too.
Love,
Logan

Pas a Pas se va luènh

2006-10-03T13:44:00.000-07:00

"Tonight I Wanna Cry"
-KEITH URBAN

Alone in this house again tonight
I got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine
There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me
I'll never get over you walkin' away

[Chorus:]I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyes
Tonight I wanna cry

Would it help if I turned a sad song on
"All By Myself" would sure hit me hard now that you're gone
Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters
It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better
But I'll never get over you by hidin' this way
[Repeat chorus twice]

Pas a Pas se va luènh

We Are All Indian!

2006-08-14T01:35:00.000-07:00

The years since India became independent have been some of the most violent and yet, among the most victorious. It is not just about rulers or events or rabble-rousers. It has been about other things that have defined India. It is about people, about humanity, the corporate world, about us…because we define India. We are India…

On an overcast day on August 15, 1947, the Father of the Nation stood by, his work done, his place assumed by the rulers of New India. Overnight, Nehru was the future. The business of nation building and running a nation weighs heavy. Nehru’s idea of the ‘Temples of India’ took shape, building blocks of industry with total state intervention. The new republic had its first larger-than-life demagogue.

Dynastic rule. If a family runs a country for 35 of its first 50 years, there cannot be another definition. Jawaharlal, Indira and Rajiv - three generations of Prime Ministers. The doting father; the watchful daughter; the young enigmatic son showing early signs of the legendary Nehru touch. An intensely private family. The first family.

A new nation has new heroes and heroines. It was in the form of genetic development of high-yielding grain varieties, the Green Revolution. This development probably put an end to famine from natural causes. Between 1970 and 1989 agricultural production in India did grow. Then Rajiv Gandhi inherited the political mantle of his grandfather Jawaharlal Nehru and the leadership of the Congress Party. He came into power as the Prime Minister of India in 1984. Somewhat of an outsider, his first interests being in engineering and aeronautics, he was not impressed with the excuses of the bureaucratic establishment. He said, “A poor country cannot afford to carry on billing the poorest people for its inefficiency and call itself socialist.”

Rajiv called for a tax reform, which cut the income and corporate tax rates. As a result of the lower tax rates tax evasion was reduced and the lower tax rates brought in 40 percent more revenue. He reduced the restrictions on the economy. He modified definitions so that the limitation imposed by "small company" policy were lessened. Some industries were removed from coverage by the MRTP Act. He created "broadbanding" in the matter of licensing. Broadbanding meant that a license for version of a product would serve to allow production of a closely related version of the same product rather than requiring a new license for the new version.

He rewrote India's corporate history. He changed the rules of the game in the industry in an era when the private sector was hampered by the licence regime. He was called the Polyester Prince in a biography that was never printed. He is Dhirubhai Ambani. The man who built an empire. His is no ordinary rags to riches story. His huge success fuelled controversies but they also dwarfed the controversies that surrounded him.

All these were feel-good images for a country desperately in search of post-Independence heroes…proving once again that we make India and we are all Indians.

1991 ushers in the Liberalisation Policy of Manmohan Singh and thus begins privatisation and globalisation – the new era.

After so many years, so many revolutions, and so little change, one develops a sense of social instability. Things begin to happen. TO HELL with whoever’s-in-charge is graffitoed across a prominent building. A stone sails through the someone’s window at night; the street below is empty. Before accepting a policeman’s order or greasing an open palm, a citizen hesitates and stares at the uniform—for that is what he sees, just the uniform, not the man—for two seconds longer than usual. Forms are lost, not remitted. Fines go unpaid. A family wakes in the middle of the night to the smell of smoke: something outside his window, burns. Political prisoners become symbols instead of ciphers, heroes rather than out-casts. Fat, bald men in suits hurry; young, thin ones in leather jackets loiter. Time bends: one side pushes it forward; the other first tries to stop it, then slow it down, then hide from it, then just get out of its way.

The place looks civilised and maritime and, this early in the twenty-first century, pleasantly irrelevant. It is impossible to love India: One either thrives on its grotesque energy or finds it inhuman; one either warms to India’s Teutonic coziness or is bored by it.

2000 - A very exciting time for us…with the ever-changing socio-political-eco scenario; life takes a dynamic 180-degree spin…After the excesses of the 80’s, the nose-dives of the nineties, the dynamic mysticism of the millennium brings a return to fundamental values in modern life. Simplicity, style, all-encompassing philosophies, broader outlooks have been the necessity of every generation. This millennium offers many alternatives, allowing everyone to create their own individual selves. The mood is more contemporary; the classics in our lives can be combined with the psychedelic…after all it is a new era and with every new one comes change, some broader and more radical than the last. New inventions, discoveries, ideas, the scandalous insanities, life itself…

“The tepid morning reeks with the odours of a crowded, rushing humanity, the smells strangely not unpleasant. Kerbsides are being hosed ferociously, steam rising from pavements drying in the sun, and the fragrance of herbs boiling in oil wafted through the narrow streets from carts and concessions screeching for attention. The noises accumulate; they become a series of constant crescendos demanding acceptance and a sale or at least a negotiation. India is the essence of survival; one works furiously or one does not survive. Adam Smith was outdone and outdated; he could never have conceived of such a world. It mocked the disciplines he projected for a free economy; it was madness. It is India!

Now, the Internet spearheads a global communications revolution; fashion designers embrace "ethnic" hues and styles; McDonald's spreads its restaurants across the globe.

Like many countries, India is a country made up of different aspects viz. economical, social, political, civic, religious, etc. But it is the people of India who together open up a new world – a hidden India – a parallel dimension to a dynasty so old and yet so new, lying silent and peaceful yet so aggressive and strong. It is we that make India a living culture that nurtures the essence of the past yet continually updates itself with modern elements. Today it is a living complex. Tomorrow it may become a self-reliant and self-sufficient multi-faceted enterprise. But this can and will happen, if and only if we as Indians, come together to forge on the anvil of life a country – an India – ready for the future, living with and in the present and in touch with the past.

As the millennium races steadily into its sixth year, nations try to destroy each other, there is infighting in countries, but we march ahead with new ideas and old ones as well, with as much élan, exoticism and enigma as mythology and as much funkiness, freaky, futuristic and out there as a werewolf on a full moon night!

We are, after all, Indian. And proud to be so!

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Snatches of Senselessness

2006-07-28T22:29:00.000-07:00

“Feel”, ‘she’ tells me. “Don’t stop. Just feel.” And then suddenly I do. “Write it down”, she says. But it’s happening too fast to capture. And then the beats of ‘Star Guitar’ ensnare my feelings. ‘You should feel what I feel.’ ’You should take what I take.’ But thoughts and feelings and what’s up for grabs are never what others mean them to be. My mind races, doing Mach 5 in a Mach 1 zone. Is it really my mind racing? The lights are fast. There’s stamping. Paper dragons fly. A boom is sonic. Where did the bald guy come from? The lights are bright. Are things racing by me? A black coat cloaks a woman, hiding her, making a mystery out of this being with short hair.
That’s it. The feeling’s gone. The sound dies. The feelings are replaced. The chatter resumes. But Meatloaf objects to the resumption of chatter. ‘She’ is pushed to the outer spectrum of the frame. Chatter stops. And as objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are; the feelings converge again.
An idyllic farm house looms up. A vintage car is being driven. Two brothers move into the frame. With dreams unfulfilled and time to make them exist. For some reason; inexplicable, a black belt appears closer. Why a belt? Why black? But the mirror doesn’t allow me to dwell on these thoughts as it reflects racing soldiers of fortune. And then, dreams that crash and burn. I know what comes next and I want to stop his pain. But fate’s more flamboyant relative; destiny, implodes the silver lining in the mirror. His anguish is channeled into the thudding of his feet through the fields to catch a glimpse of a face in the sky.
My thoughts congregate in the mirror. Distorting all feelings to form the eyes of Meatloaf through the glass. And he shows me why ‘she’ forces me to feel and not to think. To live and not to exist. But another superimposition occurs. Her body is like a bandage. And mine, just like a wound. Has the rubber met the road?

Pas a Pas se va luènh

zahir to inSAMniac

2006-07-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

Treasures aren't always meant to be kept under lock and key, in as much as the world needs to know it exists for it to be a treasure. Whether it is but a whisper in the hallowed portals of time or a murmur in the ears of sleepy children or a shout in the corridors of history...
You are a treasure unto yourself, when you are loved...for just the fact that you are loved, whether it is by some unknown force or known entity...u are loved…and that makes you the greatest ever...

*******************
Pas a Pas se va luènh

This one's for you Skipper

2006-07-07T02:55:00.000-07:00

GARTH BROOKS

"The River"

You know a dream is like a river
Ever changin' as it flows
And a dreamer's just a vessel
That must follow where it goes
Trying to learn from what's behind you
And never knowing what's in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores...and

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Too many times we stand aside
And let the waters slip away
'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow
Has now become today
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
And say you're satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

There's bound to be rough waters
And I know I'll take some falls
But with the good Lord as my captain
I can make it through them all...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Yes, I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
'Til the river runs dry

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Porsche - Gone with the wind!

2006-07-06T12:41:00.000-07:00

You can feel the pulse of the pavement racing like a runaway horse. The subways are steaming and the skin of the street is gleaming with sweat. You see it like a summer dream and it’s the answer to every prayer that you’ve ever said. From the stables of Stuttgart, it sashays in, representing a heritage that combines the doable with the seemingly impossible. Elegant in both form and function, it is a powerful name with performance to match. It is Porsche.
Sporting a complex system of aerodynamics and the simplest of ergonomics, Porsche defines the meaning of automotive styling and technology, having achieved so much, that it represents far more than just an unmistakable trade name. Generic takes on an all new meaning, when a flooded sports car market, still brings to mind, on recall, one name – Porsche! Simplicity worn with grace is elegance and no one wears it better than them! The brand thus embodies the epitome of sporty driving and thinking.
Designed to bring the thrill of the racetrack to the road, it also moves from the road to the racetrack with the ease of a river flowing into the sea.
In today’s world of conspicuous consumption, India is no exception in the usage of foreign goods. Especially German ones. From a pin to a pencil; from an eraser to a stapler; from a punch to a pen; from an idea to a dream; from a status to a symbol. Beyond the front pages, German goods are a reality that touches our lives in ways most of us never stop to think about. But then again German cars are something few will remember to forget, because quintessential is not a word that will ever come to mind when thinking of a Porsche.
The joust for hegemony of the sports car market is the stuff of legend, but the outcome will be shaped less by intrigue than the raw facts. It is apparently beyond the limits of journalistic restraint to tell the story of one of the most legendary and dynamic car companies in the world - Porsche, as anything but a breathless spy thriller! The tale begins in 1900 with the Lohner-Porsche Electric Car at the Paris Expo and takes off under the direction of Ferry Porsche, on June 8, 1948 when the first sports car bearing the name Porsche was born: the 356 Roadster. It then warns that the diplomatic intrigue continues with their journey and foray towards becoming the world wide synonym for sports cars. Porsche relishes its role as David amongst the Goliaths in this world. The tale is no less true for being so well worn, but now there is something truly new to say. It’s too early to declare the game over. After years of loop holed wrangling, the Great Game is starting to yield clear international and corporate winners. From originality to emotion, from concept to reality, the chapters of this present continuous tale go on. Every book has its own opening lines. Some good, some not so. This tale had a fantastic opening which it will always be remembered for – Tradition is compelling! Porsche is a living tradition and if its name carries a commitment, so do the values it embodies. As the chapters of this book unfold, people sit up and realise there is more to the tale than just the words P-O-R-S-C-H-E!
Get ready for a white knuckled adventure where you will need more than just your survival skills. Keep your eyes on the road. Carry plenty of water for the ride, because you’ll find yourself thirsting for more than just a spin in the sun. So don't look for road signs, tour guides or a steady pace. It won't happen that way. Because you’ve moved out of the frying pan and into the fire.

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Pathetic Fallacy

2006-07-03T23:15:00.000-07:00

Maybe it was chance, or its more flamboyant relative destiny...but I laughed too and the mingle and tinkle of blood, rain and laughter- of emotional pain, tears and its subsequent release, brought solace to a storm that cannot be calmed... whose calm lies only in its rage...
If the weather were a mirror of my emotions, it would be a true picture and not just the perception of a viewer. For after all a mirror doesn’t lie. It only shows you what’s in front of it. The distortion lies with the viewer.
My umbrella broke today in the wind and the spoke went into my wrist! (For details refer to www.insamniac-worldwithoutend.blogspot.com) Laughter was all that bubbled up between Sam and I.
The man dressing my hand, asked me if I wouldn’t scream while he cleaned the wound. I laughed some more. Pain! An elusive concept to me. Yet I felt it. Somewhere in the dim recesses of my unconscious…that numbing emotional pain…forcing me to acknowledge that I am human, I need to cry and want that special someone holding me tight, wiping away the unnecessary tears. I backed down. There was no way I was ready to deal with that pain at that moment.
I smiled and laughed a lot more. Laughter. Helps to deal with so much. My body shakes with it on the outside and quivers on the inside with a different sort of defence mechanism.
The wind howls. The rain pours. The storm rages. The calm lies in the rage. It lies within me. It is me.

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Once Upon A Time

2006-06-28T03:08:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in a land known to only those who wish to believe; there lived people, creatures, characters, of every kind; who inhabited places from the most bizarre to the most commonplace. Like many worlds this one came into being due to a thought, an idea, a flash of inspiration, a vision, a purpose, a belief. The finest minds armed themselves with their tools; a quill, an inkpot, their imagination, their love for the unknown and the belief that what they created would tide over the young when they needed to start believing and the old; when they had nothing left to believe in. Thus began the creation of this world. With a reason to believe and give others something to believe in. Unlike many other worlds, this one exists only to those who believe in it. Otherwise “Poof!” It’s not there!

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

The essence of my adulthood

2006-06-27T12:04:00.000-07:00

Now,
I try not to yell
Though I don’t very often succeed.
It might be complicated being mad with the world,
But it never gives you reason to be otherwise.
The ‘dementors’ are out to feed on your fear
And rob you of your happiness
But now I know
Happiness is based on happenings
Joy is real and only you can take it away.
I can fight back
And I do.
The way I see it,
If you want the rainbow
You gotta put up with the rain.
And I can be child-like and 2, 4, 10, 18…till I die…

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

The essence of my college life

2006-06-27T12:03:00.000-07:00

Now I yell at everybody.
Life is ‘funky’, ‘cool’, ‘roxx’ and ‘rulz’
Lennon is more fun than Lenin
Love is something I seek and earn
Not have it handed to me on a platter.
It is magic…but magic can sometimes…just be an illusion.
Things are not there, to get all giggly over
But to comprehend.
And even cow-girls get the blues…

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Hours, minutes, seconds...

2006-06-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

It is the 1st hour. A brand new day has begun. One more day to love you.

It’s the 2nd hour. I snuggle in your arms. It’s the one time our time zones meet.

In the 3rd hour, I remember how much you must be missing me and I snuggle closer.

I bless the broken road that led me straight to you as the 4th hour sets in.

I bask in your love and protection as I get ready to leave your side and join the world in the 5th hour.

I pray that our love lasts forever as the 6th hour dawns.

A rising sun that paints a tie-dyed sky, cotton candy clouds against the blue, a kiss good morning from one whose love is true, that's the kind of day i wish for you during the 7th hour.

I’m lost in you as the 8th hour sets in.

At the 9th hour I remember the breakfast in bed that only you can make special.

The clock strikes 10 and I sense your hand guiding me through my day.

The 11th hour strikes and I remember all the times you’ve held me and made me feel like a queen.

In the 12th hour I relish the times we’ve broken bread together, the meals we share as one.

The 13th hour brings memories of dreams and working together to make them come true.

I pass the 14th hour thinking of the little moments that make our relationship special.

The 15th hour zooms past as I realise that just like the eagle needs a canyon, a place where he can rest his wings a while and like the drifter needs a freight train, that will carry him another hundred miles, I need you.

How I'm set on fire when we touch is the memory the 16th hour brings.

I recollect how I wait to come home to your arms in the 17th hour.

The 18th hour arrives. I cry and say I need you. Tell you that I die when you're not here. And beg you to have already mailed me when I reach home.
It’s the 19th hour. I remember the time you called me your polestar and made me realise I’m the only thing that is most important to you.

The 20th hours arrives with an evening of sunsets, Shakespeare, coffee and conversations.

The 21st hour reminds me of all the firsts in our life together, a vow, a kiss shared beneath the stars, a promise, a love beyond forever.

The 22nd hour strikes. I miss the dances we’ve sizzled in, the ones we gloried in and the ones we reveled in.

You are beautiful in my eyes is what you said to me on the 23rd hour many years ago.

It may be the end of the day. But the 24th hour signifies that our love for each other is strong and rare and will stand the test of anything.

Need I say more Mon Amour??? For Hunny this is how I spend every hour of the day, remembering you deeply!

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Symbols, Signs, Spectrums

2006-06-08T22:50:00.000-07:00

Seek. Discover. Pursue.

Blue skies. Redeeming.
White clouds. Calming.
Smattering of grey clouds. Refreshing.
Green grass billowing softly in the wind. Caressing.
Smell of wet earth. Nostalgic.

A single drop of dew falling on your nose. Cooling.
The first rays of the sun on your face. Warming.
The sound of the ocean. Steadying.
The wind in your hair. Comforting.
The feel of your shoes hitting the pavement as you sprint. Elusive.

The moving hands of time. Soothing.
The beating of your heart. Synchronising.
A bead of sweat on your brow. Challenging.
Your adrenaline flow. Motivating.
Nature surrounding you. Elemental.

The earth rotates. Stimulating.
You are in motion. Fulfilling.
The rhythm of the ages binds both. Uniting.
An inexorable union. Shattering.
Your life is a prayer. Passionately.

Harmonise. Ponder. Concur.

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Pas a Pas se va luènh

Hinging on a Reflection

2006-05-09T03:30:00.000-07:00

How do you stop a heart from loving?
How do you stop a soul from praying?
How do you stop a mind from hoping?
How do you still a heart that beats but for one reason?
How do you stay a breath that exhales but for one word and inhales but for one whisper?
How do you keep a soul from crying out to just one other?
How do you put all your feelings in one sentence, one gesture, one touch?
Is life so fragile?
Are human relationships so delicate?
If all the world hinged on these thoughts…
Will not love take on a new meaning and passion be its interpretation?

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Whiskey Lullaby

2006-04-10T22:29:00.000-07:00

It’s been a long day. You return to an empty house. The earth has turned away from the sun and night’s shadows have come out to play. You enter your den, switch on the evening lamps, loosen your tie, kick off your shoes and walk to the bar. “What will it be today?” you ponder. There’s a winter breeze blowing through the open windows and tonight’s just one of those nights. The resonant sounds of Beethoven’s Ninth fill the room. This evening you need something strong; like desire, warm; like memories and rich; like the fabric of your mind. Instinctively you reach for the whisky. For after all, it has to be a perfect evening…

Pas a Pas se va luènh

I am...

2006-04-07T03:09:00.000-07:00

“I am me.
I am a promise made and kept.
I am a being of beauty.
I am lace and fine satin.
I am Jell-O and custard.
I am hope and love and dreams and aspirations.
I am joy and sometimes hurt.
I am a cacophony of noise. A reveller. Sometimes the rambunctious rebel without a cause.
I am a riot of colours. Bright orange. Scarlet red. Baby pink. Bottle green. Sunshine yellow. Moonshine purple. Ashes of roses.
I give love unconditionally to a world that doesn’t want it anyway.
I fear, yet I trust.
I give you heartaches, yet I make your day.
I am the future, but only if you let me live in the present.
I am a child.
I am me…"

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Nike Print Ad

2006-04-07T03:01:00.000-07:00

Oh, you are so emotional.
There you are all caught up in your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve, wearing your heart on every piece of clothing you own. You cry at the drop of a hat. You cry absolute buckets. You cry me a river.
You’re a woman (you can’t help it) you’re a girl (now don’t get me wrong) you’re a woman and you’re so emotional about everything and
Even at those times when you’re perfectly rational and perfectly capable somebody somewhere will look at you and shake their head and say (like it’s the worst thing in the world)
"Oh you are so emotional"
and of course that really makes you want to scream.
And then just as soon as you don’t weep, which is most of the time anyway’ and you’re cool and calm absolutely brilliant under pressure somebody somewhere will say you’re too cool and too calm and then, of course, you’re suddenly and forever called insensitive.
Ah to be a Woman
somewhere in the middle of all these assumptions and all the labels is the way you really are. You are kind (that’s why we have hearts). You are strong (or you wouldn’t have made it this far). You are fearless (or you would have hidden your heart long ago). And because you wear your heart so easily sometimes
you know how easily it is broken.
So, through time, you have learned to perfect it. You learn to take it out for long walks. You learn to let it breathe deeply. You learn to treat it with respect.
And, through time, you have learned to move it and bend it and shake it and make it accountable because the best way to keep a heart alive is to be unafraid to use it. And you are so very good at using it.
Listen
Your heart is beating. This means you are alive. Your body is moving. This means you cannot be stopped. This world and all its labels are calling to you. You’d love to answer. But you’re moving so fast you can’t hear a thing.

Pas a Pas se va luènh

Fantasize

2006-04-07T02:17:00.000-07:00

You are in a dark tunnel. You see a light. Walk toward it. You enter a field. It’s a spring day. There’s a chill wind blowing. The sun is dancing lightly on the grass. Take off your shoes. You’re on sacred territory. It’s peaceful. Walk. Breathe. Take in the ambiance. Feel it. Let it become you. Walk through the grass. Let it gently caress you. Like a woman’s fingers lightly brushing against you. It’s an elusive touch. But it’s constant through the field. It feels so good. You wanna lie down. You need to lie down. The need is engulfing you. You give in. gently lie on the grass, like you’d gently lay your head on her shoulder or her breasts. It feels great. You’re suddenly at peace. All is well with your world. But too soon the night comes. You have to leave her. You get up reluctantly. She won’t let you go. But you have to. You force yourself away from her and walk towards the tunnel. She cries not to leave, but you have to. You beg her to understand and she does. But not until you promise you’ll be back to visit her the next day. You can’t resist those appealing eyes, that angelic face…you know no matter how hard you try to stay away, you will be back the next day. For after all this is your comfort zone. This is your peace in a crazy world. You leave to go back to the madness. But guess what? You are at peace. There’s always her to look forward to the next day. She’ll always be there. For after all, dreams always exist to make the reality easier to bear and Mother Nature always has place for you in her bosom…

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Elusive…

2006-04-07T02:06:00.000-07:00

Close your eyes
Clear your mind
Free your soul.
Open your eyes
Look into his.
They are the first thing you catch,
or rather what catches you.
They size you up and dart around.
Intelligent, deep, they do all the talking.
A voice;
inaudible,
silent
yet strong.
Hands that care,
caress,
soothe,
heal.
His heart signifies passion… and soul-
eternal,
immortal,
always afire.
Like old vintage wine drink him in.
Savour the taste,
quench your thirst.
Close your eyes…
But just for a second.
Imprint him on your mind.
Imprison him in your heart.
That’s all you might have of him.
A vision.
Open your eyes…
Nothing.
All you see is nature,
all you hear is your breathing…
Did you close your eyes for more than a second?
You’re alone.
He’s gone.
Just a memory.
Barely a fantasy.
Maybe a dream.
My young Lochinvar has vanished over the glen…
…again…
But this time alone…
Without his lover…
Without me…
Perhaps the great love of ones life is not meant to last.
Perhaps that’s how ours became that great love…
…by ending…

Pas a Pas se va luènh

The Ties That Bind

2006-04-07T02:02:00.000-07:00

The boundaries of seven Emirates haze beneath the shifting sands of time and space. Characterised by its geographically strategic location and its trading roots, this vast empire has mesmerised travellers and traders since time immemorial and now investors and businessmen alike...

From up above, the coast gives the impression of being a jagged stratum of breakers along a golden shoreline — to the west a labyrinth of reefs and islands laze around in lustrous waters, to the east a Spartan terrain of dunes and sand bars circumscribed only by the stark knolls. This realm and its inhabitants have been wrought by these compelling forces — the desert, the mountains, and the sea. This high up, the mechanisms of men are but a play of light and shadow — a chimerical chiaroscuro against the perpetuity of the topography. But step closer and they begin to have a more imposing assortment - six-lane highways with a torrent of automobiles, pipe dream cities of ivory and crystal glass, rising like apparitions out of the waves.
From being a trading empire to becoming a trading hub, the United Arab Emirates consists of the capital Abu Dhabi, the commercial hub; Dubai, the bustling town of Sharjah, the rustic Umm al-Qawain, the slow paced, relaxing Ajman, the Northernmost Emirate of Ras al-Khaimah and the port town of Fujairah.
The United Arab Emirates’ established character as a focal point for trade, both in terms of importing and exporting, as well as functioning as a base and a pivot point for trading facilities and activities, were well reputed preceding the unearthing of oil. Arab merchants, trading dhows, and camel trains are a fundamental component of its history and legends. The ways and means of conducting business may look as if they have been tainted noticeably when evaluated in comparison with their ancient roots. In reality the basic values linger, in that personal dealings are imperative as a foundation for constructing reciprocated faith, and verbal covenants or handshakes perform a vital role in negotiations. It is against this solid background that the United Arab Emirates continues to reach out to new communities, businesses and individuals, in a quest not only to trade, but also to foster links of comradeship and belief that have enduring worth. In this sense, trade in the United Arab Emirates is not merely a manner of commerce but is an essential and treasured element of daily life.
India has always been a part of this link and scheme of things. The eminent trade relations between the United Arab Emirates and India go back numerous centuries. These well-built mutual trading connections have been maturing gracefully during the last few decades and facilitated in making the two countries "Partners in Prosperity". Thus leading up to The Third UAE Trade Exhibition in India 2005, uniquely initiated by the Dubai Chamber of Commerce and Industry (DCCI), Jafza-Dubai Business Hub and the Department of Tourism and Commerce Marketing (DTCM), it intents to progressively augment the UAE-Indo trade and economic relations through offering prospects for operational companies in the UAE to showcase their products and services in India, which is considered as one of the biggest consumption markets in the world. It is the ideal occasion for trading corporations, entrepreneurs and investors to make the most of business opportunities presented to them in India. The event also works as a channel for extensive escalation of Indian investments in the UAE, especially in the Small and Medium Enterprises (SME) Sector where Indian capital and technology contribute considerably.
Mentioning businesses in United Arab Emirates and not speaking of the free trade zones and their place in the scheme of things is like leaving out a vital part of UAE. These have also imparted a noteworthy thrust for trade in the UAE. Jebel Ali was the first free zone and commenced in the mid-eighties and was an instantaneous success. Since then, free zones have come up all across the UAE.
The Internet may be spearheading a global communications revolution; fashion designers may embrace "ethnic" hues and styles; restaurants may spread their food chains across the globe. Beyond the front pages, UAE-Indo trade is an actuality that touches our lives in ways most of us never stop to think about. Increased international trade has made us wealthier and allowed us to lead more diverse lifestyles.
Bilateral trade relations like those between UAE and India, have been forged in the sands of time and carved in stone. With each passing phase, ties strengthen and alliances become the writing on the wall that will tell tales of economies that flourished because they co-existed, grew, lived and learned from and with each other.

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Of Meanings and Musings

2006-04-06T03:51:00.000-07:00

Define a chance.
Is it a risk, a venture?
Or the modest version of its more flamboyant relative destiny?
Define a meeting. An encounter.
Or is it the coming together of more than just people?
Define closure. Is it just a feeling?
Then what about infatuation? Longing? Love?
There are things that escape ‘meaning’.
How love can hurt so much, for instance.
Or how it can make you feel you own the world.
Or are platinum and gold mere elements on the Periodic table?
Define a colour. Monochromatic. Ashes of roses.
Define an ice-cube finding its way down your back.
Define the good stuff. Ever wonder how it’s relative?
How it’s the little moments that actually matter?
How any man can sweep any woman off her feet?
As long as he has the right broom?
Define a kiss.
Is it the opening of your mouth?
And the speaking of your heart?
For that matter how do you define life itself?

Does time really ever stand still?
Does the moon ever radiate its own light?
How long is the time before two lovers meet?
Does three months last only for 90 days?
Does a Kodak moment last for only 1/500th of a second?
How much time is too much time?
When you’re listening to the Rascal Flatts anthology?
When you have the world laid before you
And the one you love isn’t there to share it?
Sometimes 2 hours indulging in a hot bath,
A glass of dry red wine and piping hot food,
Can seem like an evening.
A night of dancing
In the arms of the one you love,
A whole year.
Sometimes a kiss beneath the stars
Can feel like a lifetime.
And being loved by YOU
And loving you, is an eternity.

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