Friendaship

In the history books of 2030, a line will go like this.

Between the years of 1995 and 2010, there were a lot of women bloggers who wrote on topics like sensitivity, food, arbitness, world,men and their awesomeness( or sometimes, the lack of it) and on over all randomness.  A common problem faced by most women of this genre were "frieanship" requests from people all over the solar system. Most women received anonymous comments on their looks, and some brave(!) souls mailed them asking for making some friendship.

Yes, and I am living it now. I have received requests of making some friendship with me from people i did not even know existed. It is okay to have cyber friends, do virtual arattais and vaarify legs. But the heights of desperation in this attempt leaves me in giggles.

These people kind of scout of all information on the writer. A blogger friend receives mails in green colour fonts( nah, pachai pachai'ya illa) because she mentioned in some 1987 post that she liked green!

Damn. May malaria filled mosquitoes teach you to comment and not mail bloggers.

Glossary

arattai means a chat. Mostly accompanied with masala tea.
vaarify literally means to comb, but here you can say pull down ( with a comb ?)
pachai'ya pachai ya - This is tough. Pachai means green. And Green talk means blue films, yellow magazines.

Unnamed

Drops of rain platter on my window
The sounds, the sights and the splatters in a row
Makes me fill a page with letters
Hear me out, write as earth smiles, as a pond bathes

Seeing it all, my heart glows in thrust
As it fills up a dying thirst
If seeing can make it shine
Will living in it make it rain

Oh screen of waters, the shower of poems
The smile of clouds, and scarf of drops
As the bridge connects skies and earth
My heart connects with its warmth
I hear her fill my heart, with drops
Not of tears, but to drown my fears
Came down as a loan from the skies
I feel with it my sadness flies
May be a short moment, until the rays pierce
But I live with the hope, thou shall wet me again/img/blank.gif
Until then, I write her praise
And wait for a drizzle so benign

Extremely inspired from - here and here and ofcourse, this! Photo Courtesy - The Roomie

Akshay Vohra made my day, by reblogging this poem on his blog. Lots of untitled poems on his blog too! You can find it here. Random acts of Kindness :)

Awrite, my muse. Take it on.

This post is random. Skip it if you have something very important. I know, you don't.

I want to shake hands with Celine Dion and thank her for doing the world so much good with music. "A new day has come" is like glucose injected through ear lobes. I have to start this much closer home. I have too many people to begin with in India.

I have not seen a butterfly in Singapore. A rare crow around. It is amazing the kind of things we miss once we leave home. The humble kakha! Listening to "Oh!Butterfly" now.

Cooking brinjals can be a witchy experience. I almost feel like a "kolakaari" when I throw them in hot oil. And i think of someone when they fry. I am becoming a bitchy witch.

Flying to India next month. Cant wait for sem break. I say that home, and paati "vayiru pozhaikum". This love stays.

My muse loves randomness. Did I say that, already?