End of an Era

The era ended as Saddam Hussein was put to death a little before dawn on December 30th, 2006, the day of Eid - ul - Adha all over the Middle East. Even moments before his death, he showed no remorse, refused to wear the hood and faced death calmly.

This tyrant who ruled over Iraq for decades, suposedly murdered thousands of shiites, in a way, I guess, his death can be justified.

Now, however, its President Bush who should be put to trial, for Afganisthan, for Iraq, for the war that he has started, which is still going on all over the world.

Being me

It's time for me to fall from where I stand,
To get all clumsy and messy like I was once upon a time.

I will not hold back anymore and let it flow,
I will not smile and hurt my mouth.

I will let my bones melt and
Not keep my eyes open any longer.

I will stand on a running bus on its way to Chittagong.
I will swim the ocean to get to the other side.

I will break into pieces and
Scream out loud,
Jump up and down and
Roll on the ground.

I will sit in the rain for hours,
Catch a cold,
Get sun burnt,
Watch the stars,
Follow the moon where ever it goes (it used to follow me when I was younger).

I could simply fall asleep and never wake up,
I could jump off a cliff and never climb back up,
I could take a shower in my jeans,
I could run around naked on the street,
I could climb a tree and become a bat,
Watching the world upside down.

It’s time for me to fall from where I stand,
And walk around broken.

Random Thoughts

Acting is reacting to whatever you see or feel happening around you. I learnt this during rehearsals for Agatha Christie’s ‘The Mousetrap’ in 2002 in Dhaka. We used to rehearse in this room called BTA 100 in NSU.

Not only is this true in theatre, but also in real life. Everything depends on how you react to what the other person says or does. Sometimes, how you react plays a big role in deciding the next step in your life.

What would it be like to wake up in the morning and just covering your face up with a thick base of foundation, hiding the eyes with dark shades and wearing green lipstick to work, or to meet friends, or meet with the ones in the ‘scene’ who make everything happen for you? Would you be able to bear with all the scorns, ‘tsk tsks’ and the rolling of the eyes?

I think you very well would.

Glow in the Dark

You glow everywhere you go;
You smile wide and bright
And show your crooked teeth to the world.

You carry warmth in those eyes,
Smoothening the crease in hearts
Of the many, hovering about.

Your innocent twitch of the nose,
Causes rapture amongst the ones seated.

You nod in agreement and
Start to say that you believe…

When you have stopped the Tick-Tock,
Revolution and the Race…

Until the power withers away
And turns into something too
Good to be true.

Jora Taali

A sea gull’s cry, fading away against the waves;
A lock, with no key;
A colourless piece of art;

An eye with no twinkle;
A voice without character;
A dim, dim streak of light;

I am a smile devoid of promises;
Tune with no melody;
Words with no meaning;

A crumpled piece of paper.

Bedtime story

There is a nine-year-old girl sleeping on the floor of the living room, awaiting the morning rays when it will be time for her to get ready to wash windows and mop the floors. Surely she misses her mother’s warm hands and wonders when she will be able to see her again.
Then again, where would she get the chance to watch television and all its glittery characters every night? Actresses in all their glamour and false tears, with heroes striving to save their damsels in distress, with real time contests turning music into a car race and, with the police using their batons to beat up the protestors (the real stuff of course, no dramatisation needed here) and the occasional scenes of stolen kisses and dripping desire.
Three meals a day, that’s something! Lau kumra bhaji, ilish macha bhaja and chicken as well. Sometimes even ice-cream!
But, something stays missing. At night when she goes to bed, it feels as if the woes of the whole world just fall upon her little shoulders. Her tears wet the pillow covers. She hurries to dry them. She tries to dream of a little garden, where she and her cousins are running around and playing. She sees her mother and her father and her brothers as well, without the usual strain or marks of worry on their face. She dreams of clean water, where she can see her own reflection and makes little boats. How she would like to sail on those boats and go to all the places she had heard her father talk about! It was probably the only one good memory of her father that she likes to run in her mind. She was almost four when her father was telling her about the ships that sail to the other lands and of aeroplanes that move in air. Her father’s eyes were twinkling with excitement and he was eagerly relating these faraway stories to her with quite a bit of interest. Other than this one time, he would either beat her or never be around to take care of her. It was always her mother.
But why did she send her away? Maybe it was getting a little difficult to mahange two meals a day for the family, but she could do with a less rice and she really didn’t need the bits of fish that they have sometimes, or the left over spinach from next doors either.
There goes the alarm. Time to get up and face reality.

Rock me to Sleep

Rock me to Sleep, before the wind blows in

And the spring flowers bloom to all their glory,

Before the sun shines through the leaves and

Lovers walk arm in arm down the brooke,

Before your smile fades away and tears dry up,

Before the sun rays touch your cheeks

And the dew drop and the petal,

Before you lose that twinkle in your eyes,

Lose the long gone memories,

Moments spent threading each dream.

Rock me to Sleep and have time standing still,

With a picture of you in my mind,

A face, now covered in wrinkles,

Yet elegant and innocent as ever before.

30th Jan 2006

Etched on Paper

You are a
candlelight,
Dancing in the
Misty rain;

A child
Filled with laughter,
Jingles, chocolates
And a sparkle in the eye;

A mother
With hands,
Soft and eyes,
Peaceful;

A song
Sung in spring,
By the river
And over the hills;

A guitar strum,
Filling the heart with
Sweet memories of
Yesterday.

Your laughter still
Tinkers in the hallways,
Your hum still
Echoes around.

The quick glances
And those ready smiles,
You glow everywhere
You go.

Words that flow from
The heart…
And I can still hear
You smiling.

--- Remembering Novera Deepita

Strings that Cry

I believe – that one day you will unveil those tears,
That you will smile and so will your eyes,
That you will feel the ice cracking beneath,
And won’t choke on the wishes that you make
Every sleepless night, upon the star that you pretend to see,
And let them flow free…

I believe – that one day the world will see
A clearer sky, a brighter sun, your soul
As refreshing as your dreams;

I know – you will pick up those pieces,
And build;
Will break the barriers within,
And feel...

Wink in to the Mirror

Acording to a friend of mine called Rupom (well actually Rupom's mother), when you are really angry, absolutely fuming and can literally see smoke coming out of your ears, just look at yourself in the mirror..... and wink! It won't be long till you start smiling and grinning like an idiot. That is sure to cool you down a bit.
I tried that last night, it was hilarious. I looked hideous with my temper boiling within, with my hair standing straight on my head, my eyes big, round and steaming and lips pursed up together tightly. I forced myself to go 'wink' and could not stop myself from cracking up.
That's when I saw myself soften up, just a bit though. I was still mad as ever, though I did forget why I was angry and who I was mad at.
All in all, it was worth it.

Talvin Singh's Traveller

Starts off with 'The world is sad' and ends with these flute solos. Very moving and will touch anyone deep inside. Makes me think of a dispute raging between the mind and the self.
The flute solos in the end just make u cry. They touch you so deep inside. Tells you the tale of some far, forgotten people living in a far, forgotten land, tears all dried up, surviving with the pain crawling within.
It's a wonder how a simple instrument can make you think about so much. The flute just cries out and makes an appeal to someone, anyone, to listen to the woes, the pains of being lonely and watching your loved ones suffer across the deserts, the seas and acres and acres of land.
You would just get entwined within the tale and actully see it happening right infront of your eyes.

Gibberish: Know thyself

It's hard! I mean, it was just a little more that 4 years when I came to Bangladesh and I thought I knew everything about myself and could go about being myself. I was wrong of course. And I managed to surprise myself. I look at the last few years, and I find that I have peeled off layer after layer from my body and within and never realised that I was doing so. I am sure there is no reason as to why I should be all surprised and overwhelmed with the idea of changing, for I am sure it is an integral and natural part of growing up to be an adult.
Maybe there is too much of a child in me. At least, there was. Time to release it? Hmm.... Just not yet....

Eureka!!

I am kind of new to this blog thing, I would always read my friends' blogs and everything, but would never think to create one myself.
I actually could not find a way to write a new post:) Anyway, now that I do know, here it is.
hmmm... I don't know what to say. So much has happened in the last few weeks, that I am absolutely overwhelmed with all the actions. lol:)
Listening to Corrs, Time enough for tears from their last album, Borrowed Heaven. It's around 3:32 am in the morning, can't sleep as usual.
I guesss I'll write more when I have something to say :)
Cheers till then....

At first glance

Well, this being my first post, I just want to say hello to everyone who is going to visit this blog of mine. You are welcome to voice out, speak up, express your minds, praise my thoughts or blast me off for the nonsense that I write.
Thanks Imti! I love the name Neer. It does carry a lot of meaning for each and every one of us who want to stay safe and survive the vineyard of a world!
Cheers.
Elita
*****