Notes to Myself 7

Can't believe I have managed to write everyday.
I am almost impressed with myself.
I hope I can make a habit out of this even if most of what I churn out is agonizingly depressive shite. 

What if I run out of steam?? 

What if I lose the motivation to write simply because circumstances change or if I run out of angst? 

Surely my dear reader, you have noticed that, haven't you?

That i write only when I am angry/depressed/conflicted/in pain...

I even have a theory about it which I had come up with ages back in one of my long forgotten blogs. The theory went something like this - that people who are happy with themselves seldom blog. I had a lot of points back then to prove it. Now I simply take it as one of my axioms of life. 

A person who is in peace with himself will seldom find the need to express himself. 

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Something strange happened today.

I received a mail from "Oddity and Light". It was a poem titled "Valediction: A Forbidden Mourning". I really couldn't understand it very much. It had a lot of interesting parts though. 

But then I was more intrigued by the email itself. I googled and found that it is a poetry blog. Someone (most probably unknown to me) posts his/her fav poems by famous and lesser known authors in the "Oddity and Light" blog. 

And there I found this little poem 

It Isn't Time That's Passing 
by Ruskin Bond

Remember the long ago when we lay together
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn't time that's passing by,
It is you and I.

Isn't it nice? :-)

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And today was a lot of shopping and lot of talking. 

I bought another bunch of graphic novels.

Some of those were absolute gems. 

199 a piece

Joe Sacco - Safe Area Gorazde: Notes from Gaza (I gifted this to buay)

David. B - Epileptic. ( I was dying to get hold of this! You have no idea how many hours I have spent on google trying to track down a scanned version.)

Alex Robinson - Box Office Poison (this book actually costs 1500!)

Appupen - Moonward (fuck. This one was the surprise pick of the lot. Its simply fantastic. Please go lookitup! This guy, George Mathen, is also the drummer of this band called Lounge Pirahna. Wicked, no?) 

Sudhir Tailang - No, Prime Minister (a collection of political cartoons about Manmohan Singh)

Brian Talbot - Grandville Mon Amour (according to wiki this is supposed to be a mixture of steampunk, alternate history and thriller genres. I picked it up because I wanted to read something by Talbot; I had heard a lot about his Tale of One Bad Rat)

Dave Sim & Gerhard - Melmoth (5th volume of the Cerebus series.) 

Seth - George Sprott (I can't believe I am holding a work of Seth in my hands. I am in awe of this guy.)

Philippe Dupuy - Haunted (Someone describes this as "portrait of the artist as an introspective, solitary man. I had no idea what this book was about when i picked it up. I simply went with the publishers, Drawn & Quarterly)

Tove Jannson - Moomin (again, no clue. Went with gut instincts. This is the collection of only the comic strips by this Swedish-Finn lady illustrator and writer. She has created an entire world based on these white colored hippo looking trolls!)

I can't believe I got luckier this time around. 

I hope to go to Spencers, and Citi Center before the sale gets over and bust all my cash and buy till I run out of all my money. 

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Today is my best friend's birthday. He is turning 26 and he is getting married soon and he is slowly but surely falling in love with this girl. He is a shy boy but this girl is drawing him out, little by little. I am sure they will be a great match. 

Ah, I get ring side view of the evolution of their relationship and it is absolutely heartwarming. 

He is one of those rare people who I can trust to be on my side thru thick and thin. I am proud that i get to walk the planet with him.
I love you, man. 

Many more happy returns of the day. 

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I was lying down in the beach and I overheard a lot of snippets of everyday conversation of people who walked by me. I hope I can recreate it someday and it would make a superb thriller. (something like Where is the friend's home? maybe?) 

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I am so glad I could do my annual ritual with my dad of visiting the nearby Bengal Association during the Dusshera festival. It's probably the only special thing that I share with my dad - our love for Bengali street food (actually I get my foodie-ness from him. He has taken me to so many restaurants and we have had so much fun eating out together. These days he has reduced his eating a lot. He simply sits there with a content smile while he watches me eat...) and I felt really nice that I could take him this year even though he didn't eat much. 

He was happy. 

:-)

PS: Must take him and mum to Bay Leaf one day. 

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Haha. I just realised that I swing from Love to hate to Love within the span of a few days. Just the other day I wrote this angry piece where I dismissed everyone around me for not letting me brood in peace. And today I am upbeat, cheerful and actually grateful to all the people around me.

Such a simple illusion this life is, no?