In dodo's head

Oh how you befuddle me, and bemuse me, How you frustrate me with your illogical out-of-world ideas. Oh how you make me want to gasp for a breath of sane air, The holy Ganga river.. How you make me want to drown in the crazy sea. And yet I stay still, Still like a doe waiting, Hoping the predator will not feel its presence, And disappear into the greens of the trees. And yet you walked away, Several nonsensical conversations. Crashed into a heap, Like a house of cards. Sailed away you did Leaving me perplexed. Stormy seas you left, Troubled with ripples of wonderment.

Time and distance are rather like marinades, Far better than the kind found in corner stores however. Soak the unpleasant memories, Or even the pleasant ones if you dare. The longer the better, sometimes. Bitterness fades away, Replaced by the sweetness of nostalgia. The heart begins to warm up, And you forget the pain and the bitter taste. Too long and the taste fades away completely, Wiping away with it the entire memory. How many a times have we succeeded, In marinating away the scars and the dreadful feelings..

So, this weekend, chance and some amount of luck (and International Society) took me to Conwy and Caenarfon in Wales.. I do not know what it is, but small towns and cities always endear me.. Some sort of unexplained connection.. Walking along the streets of Conwy and Caenarfon, where each building had a charm of its own, unlike the many new building blocks with no sense of personal tie that dot the surface of most cities, including Imphal.. There is just something about the charm of old towns with their years of history that binds you in mystique and appreciation.. Here's a taste of Wales for you :) Plas Mawr, an Elizabethan era house in Conwy Winding path in Conwy By the sea Caenarfon cityscape Ponderings  All roads lead to the castle Doorway to beyond Sea Gull and the Menai Strait

The long break has begun.. And I find myself scouring the horizon, looking for occupants of my time.. Youtube being a sorcerer in concocting entertainment of varying lengths does not disappoint.. I found myself hooked onto 'Gordon's Great Escape' where the world famous British chef Gordon Ramsay travels to remote parts of the world, exploring their cuisines.. A particular episode had me spell bound.. He actually travelled to Nagaland and Assam to taste and learn their style of cooking.. I was a little disappointed that Mr. Gordon did not knock on Manipur's door. I would have certainly liked to know what he made of the Manipuri cuisine.. Talking of which takes me back to my last holidays back home. I vividly remember my father explaining to me why Manipuri cuisine still had to undergo some amount of refinement before it could actually be acceptable to the palates of the Non Manipuris. Personally I love the quirky style of Manipuri cooking and think it to be up to...

if only people could realise what greatness awaits them, waits inside them waiting to be unfurled, like a flag swaying in the breeze with pride. yet they just lie dormant, feeling like a pair of unused shoes, unworn and unwanted. brush yourselves up, polish yourselves, shine the buckle, you are as good as anyone, up there telling the world what to do. Delhi, April 2011 you have in you something,that something, which none in this world does or will ever possess, you are stronger than you believe yourself to be, you are brighter than all those you told you 'you can't' wipe the dust off the surface find your 'x' and feel your worth. you were made to fly, fly listless of the critics and the cynics.. you were made for much more, believe that.

As VJ put it today- It's the end of a chapter.. Almost, that is.. Our three year long journey together- battling the grey skies and rain of Manchester, of bus rides to the city centre, movie watching marathons, intense clan cravings for Ben and Jerry's and Moonlight carrot cakes, Curry mile food, John Rylands (the library which becomes our shrine during our exams days) studying sessions, last minute plans which go more smoothly than the ones which we deliberate and plan for months and months, all that with its commas has been leading on to this.. a full stop.. Reaching Manchester after many a sleepless anxious nights of whether I would fit in here, whether I would find people I like.. all that has all simmered down to three years of being a part of what we call the KOM (Kids of Mice, if you must know)..  We were named thus by our 'crazy' one, the great Alimushka with all her wacky ideas, for some reason I now forget.. :P  But if I were to sum up my Manchester experienc...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U&feature=relmfu

Oxford road Today I almost skipped down the road, After all I had managed to hand in my dissertation, Course-mates I had never spoken to said 'Hey' to me A lecturer who taught me for two years even smiled at me, The sun was shining for a change, Rain, a common patron in Manchester even eluded the city today I passed the Edward VII on my way to Tesco, There he was holding his orb and staring down Oxford Road, Pigeon shit adorned the crown on his bald head, I wondered how he felt looking down the busy road, With pigeons answering their calls of nature on his head, At his feet sat a woman, Scribbling away in what looked like a diary. What was she writing, my curious mind briefly wondered. A man in fluorescent blue raced past me, Who jogs at 1 in the afternoon, my brain snickered at him in my head. Across the road sat the usual drunk man, Singing songs of Beatles at passer-bys who ignore him. Inside the pub can be seen a woman, Whispering words of comfor...