Monday, November 21, 2005

A kid goes from
lower kindergarten to
upper kindergarten...
but he's still a cute li'l
kid...

a student finishes
first year of high school
and moves on to the next
but he's still a student
with academic pressures only

again, in college
there isn't much difference between
sophomores and seniors

why is it that once you
finish college
and move on to further
qualify yourself academically
the world suddenly looks at you
as a 'grown-up' individual...

and expects you to be a
block of stone
of infinite stability
and responsibility levels ?

why are we 'old' ?
does it seem stupid
if I now want to stop to
stare at lovely looking
flowers or colourful
candies in a supermarket ?

why does it seem intolerable
if I throw tantrums for
eating and sleeping ?
why should i do
only the right thing ?

has life decided to give me
no more chances ?
no more wrong steps now ?

why is the word 'decisive'
killing me ?

i want to walk the path of life
as it comes
why is there this thought
"its time now..to decide
where you want to go...
what you want to do...
who you want to
be with..."

why should i
not behave like a
new student to
a foreign school
who's unable to
forget her old friends
and doesn't want to make
new friends ?

what is so 'sinful' about this ?

why can't i NOT 'not listen to'
"everyone manages fine...
your seniors did
your peers are
and most of your juniors will..."

there are times when i myself
wonder
why i can't seem to move on
there are other times when i
do make conscious efforts to move on
succeed, externally

but the heart can't be deluded...
can it ?
mine can't be..its too smart...
to make up for that soft head...!

Sunday, November 20, 2005

a shore...
i see sand
i see lots of crabs..
which i am scared of..

i see a lot of
shells
which i'm crazy abt
collecting

but i also fear
that the shells may
contain some creature
inside

i see a variety of stones
i see sand castles
constantly being made
by effervescent children

constantly being washed away by the sea
but which returns the sand in the form of wet mud
which can be better used
to build steadier mud castles...

the reader may not
understand what i'm driving at
...natural, dear friend

for i have no clue either...

God...are you listening ?

why ????

Friday, November 18, 2005

the bridges of madison county.

this was written some time in autumn 2004, while I was at Kharagpur, India.

I read a book today. My first e-book, and the experience crushed to pieces my previous notions, that soft copies of even the best books cannot produce the same magical effect as their hard copies.
I was constantly being admonished by the sensible person in me, for reading a novel when my examinations are close, but then, there was no way of holding myself back…I was deeply engrossed in the story…I was in a trance!
The settings were just perfect to make my reading experience pleasurable and magical. A lovely evening breeze, soft lighting, absolute silence and Mr. Robert Kincaid and Mrs. Fransesca Johnson enacting their story in my presence. ‘The Bridges of Madison County’ right in front of my eyes.
Whether I liked the feel of the story or the depiction of true and intense love or the very characters, representative of the human mind at its crazy and passionate yet mature best, or the author’s marvellous comprehension of the working of the human mind, is unknown to me! All I know is a yearning, for the kind of life Mr. Kincaid lived before he met Mrs. Johnson, and a feeling of amazement that soul mates do locate each other after all. They probably meet at the most unexpected junctures and part no sooner than they meet, much to their agony, but meet nevertheless! It is the lucky few who get to spend a lifetime together!




'take care,both of you',
said she and left.
hope she had a great day,
the only other girl in his life.

evening ,half past five.
I let him go.
to meet the people of the world.
his friends.

I opted to stay back.
To pray for him.
To get some time by myself
before I dedicated
the remainder ofthe evening
To him.

'Don't take too long,dear'.
The doors of my heart shall close
if you do not return in say,an hour.

I prayed.
I reflected upon myself.
I thought about him.
Wondered if he'd
remember hispromise.

Half past six.
A knock on the door.
He came in
He spent a few momentspraying..
.and then...

We were together
all the time.
We read together.
We danced.

We listened to the sea
stared at the stars
and the wisps of cloud
on an otherwise clear sky.

He let me have my way
the entire evening.
Let me do what I wanted
with him.

I did everything I wanted to
and I had to,in my capacityas his ' '
I succeeded.
Needless to say
I am a happy woman this evening.

Dedicated to my six- year old nephew.
Hello.

This is Barathi Srinivasan , presently pursuing my graduate studies in Electrical Engineering at the University of California, Los Angeles. I am affiliated to the Flight Systems Research Laboratory ,headed by Prof. A. V. Balakrishnan.

I completed my B.Tech(Hons.) program in Instrumentation Engineering (Major) and Electronics and Electrical Communication Engineering (Minor) from the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur, India.

I'm on a certain journey... intuitively know where I am headed... but my ideas are still amorphous. I joined the world of blogs after a lot of thought. This is an attempt to see whether public sharing of thoughts might help crystallize my thoughts. Hope it is a fruitful experience !

Cheers !!