*    Spit bubbles
*    Jedi maNNu and Kappe goodu
*    Sharaap-current,Lagori,Mysore ball
*    Pa bhaashe [ Nipingu gopotta?]
*    Cork balls made out of Katti kaayi which felt moist to touch and smelled finely raw;and the sound that came when one felt its stickiness by clasping the fingers tight and releasing them
*    Dinga and phakru of Balamangala; Tantri,Suppandi and Shikari Shambhu of Tinkle
*    Peeling fevicol out of fingers
*    The balloon-mama who used to add a li'l sooji into the balloon and stretch the elastic till we feared it would tear off,before blowing air into it
*    Clapping hands onto the ears and letting it go to experience the "Doppler effect" in noisy classrooms when the class teacher's out and the class leader is desperately adding plusses[+] in front of the names written on the black-board
*    Ajji pukka
*    GaaLipata & its baalangochi
*    Empty match boxes & the minchu-huLa

Of silence

Lazily humming the tune of 'Woh chup rahey tho mere dil ke daag jalte hain..',i look at the stars from over the terrace..
The song suddenly catches my attention..that one line- '....khamoshiyon se tho dil aur dimaag jalte hain..'..and i smile as my thoughts shift towards you....your silence..

I know your silence as very well as i know your jaunty talks..
Sushruth[whom i know only thru his blog posts] writes about deafening silence in his post..of silence that's never silent enough..
I shake my head..it isn't that..it's not noisy...it's neither protesting nor accusing..

It is never awkward..never intrusive...Only dormant.

sweet nothings

i know u long enough to remember your surname..and yet i find myself saying why didnt we meet earlier...i dont think too much about you..but just enough to wonder if you liked that movie as much as i did.. i fondly recollect you searching for me..walking with hurried steps to catch up with me..that innocent glee on your face...
may be we will part our ways as usual..may be we will hold on a little longer..
whatever..the pleasure is mine....

Its all about the country side..

Of long rides and big noisy gangs of boys...
of the watery destinations and lies told to mum,
between saving money and spending times our choice
risk to life and limb some say , oh come get some!

its not about the source or the destination,
its not about the "Daring youth of the nation"
Its not about the thunder of your bike, don't be so gung-ho,
Its all about the journey by the countryside bro...

its only the journey...its about where all you go!!!

Purple HAZE

Standing on top of school buses on rainy july afternoons....waiting for all the teachers to pass thorough.....bullying younger kids to shut their mouths....begging the bus driver to wait for a few more minutes....all this just to pluck delicious, mouth watering, purple coloured jamoons off trees.....your pallet is confounded with a multitude of tastes....sour...sweet..bitter...and above all....a sensation in your mouth that you can't name.....and of course...the wonderful purple colour of you tounge.....
The tastes on my pallet are the same even now, when i buy jamoons off the roads.But even a unripe jammon tasted much more delicious when i used to pluck them off trees....

Deafening Silence

I know u were here, even if sometimes u choose not to tell me,

u think u left no trace,
ahh..only if u knew what rush of sweetness still lingers by,

u tread softly..but ur anklets roar in me,

u whisper, i listen aloud,

u breathe, the melody stirrs me,

u lower your gaze coyly, i see the raw seething,

u fake courtesy,i bear the snub,

u smile,but u forget i can see through.

of all the finer things in life,my love... u r the finest.

Sleep and the city...

Rough friday night. 2 am and lumpy, glowing snow pounds at window. Wooden floor-boards creak and echo. Glass catches breathing fog, watches icy wind pepper skin. Dead white quiet. A shivering snuggle into warm duvet, sheets leading upto toasty dreams. It's a happy november weekend!

ALilu

It's not about the mango tree in our backyard nor about its mangoes,it's about the li'l squirrel relishing it.
:)

The first SIN

Black as the devil, Hot as hell,
Pure as an angel, Sweet as love.

Why...??

Being the fuss most of us are about food, drink, clothes and almost about everything other thing, the thought of appreciating the finer things in life is always lost on us. That unknown girl's face, that strangers smell, that perfume which left a faint odor, that child's laugh, that small cup of coffee which cures any headache......this blog is like an ode to these things we experience and forget. This is a blog to appreciate the subtlety in all that is there.
And as all ways, people can join in on this blog and put up their posts.