tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-317795902024-03-07T19:42:12.318-08:00~~~ grey waves ~~~Color, Cadence & CreativityWu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-87250956513425948082016-11-10T19:21:00.001-08:002016-11-11T05:51:32.714-08:00Contrast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The contrast couldn’t be sharper. </div>
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In terms of morality, sensibility,</div>
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temperament, and intellect.</div>
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Or credibility.<br />
And of course, color. </div>
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2008 White House bid - Iconic.</div>
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2016 White House bid - Moronic. </div>
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And the result? </div>
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Ironic. </div>
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Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-38247719753018648972010-08-05T13:50:00.001-07:002010-08-05T13:50:49.620-07:00Constant Memories<div>I dig them out randomly, reuse them to fill the dark</div><div>in my days over and over again.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>But those beautiful memories and carefree laughter</div><div>seem void of emotions after so much reuse.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>Strained present has firmly altered the past</div><div>and weeded the life out of those moments.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>Memories are all you have, they say.</div><div>No. Not always.</div>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-12214405398934679902010-08-05T13:47:00.000-07:002010-08-05T13:49:35.395-07:00The Stranger by Albert Camus<div style="text-align: justify;">Monsieur Meursault (MM) is not a stranger in the literal sense and is not always a stranger. Over the course of the book Camus has done a brilliant job of unraveling the protagonist. At what point MM becomes a stranger depends solely on the reader's personality. After about half the book when the murder is committed and MM finds himself being shuttled between his cell and the courtroom, there is a lot going on on his mind. The following pages are quite intense as MM tries to assess the gravity of his situation, while none of the small details escape his attention. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">MM comes across as a very strong and rational character ill at ease with the ways of the world, which is understandable. During his entire trial that goes on over a few months, he has innumerable thoughts and opinions, which is also natural. However, not once does he feel a flash of remorse or thinks that he could have shown some restraint on that fateful day. Not once. To him, that day is done and over with. He has no eyes for the past. That is the place he turned alien to me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Camus has not made any conscious effort to make MM a stranger. Its just this particular human identity is a bundle of queer and firm opinions, desires, dislikes, and thoughts. None of it will change come what may. Camus could write another hundred pages and still MM would turn a stranger at some point or other. Must read.</div>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-2726053807836866422009-12-31T16:55:00.000-08:002009-12-31T17:06:37.763-08:00My First Solo<div><br /></div><div><b>Date</b>: Dec 30, 2009</div><div><b>Time</b>: 10AM to 12 Noon</div><div><b>Out of</b>: Freeway Airport, W00</div><div><b>Rwy</b>: 18</div><div><b>Tail Id</b>: N971FM</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Conditions</b>:</div><div>Winds - About 3kts from WNW (300 deg) - Calm</div><div>Visibility - Unrestricted</div><div>Ceiling - 7000 ft (broken)</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I flew my first solo in the pattern. It was such a wonderful feeling being up there on my own. After months of flying in the pattern with my instructor, yesterday was such a big break for me. I am just so happy and feel a lot more confident now. One thing is for sure - every take-off and every landing is so special and unique. </div>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-77291897194058699342008-04-25T17:36:00.000-07:002008-04-25T17:37:29.817-07:00SpringWith every twig and stem teeming with life<br />it seems spring was always here, leaves<br />hidden behind the layers of snow, waiting<br />patiently to be discovered by the sun.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Note: I am amazed how the trees turn from bare to green in such a short time. It's as if there is a green explosion. And they seem to be in such abundance that you forget winter was even here. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-47739725159798239002008-04-25T17:30:00.000-07:002008-04-25T17:34:59.831-07:00BlindnessLike many novels that I read over a period of time, I read Blindness in five months. It's my first novel by a Portuguese author and Saramago's writing style is distinctly different from any that I have read before.<br /><br />First, the sentences usually are very long, running to ten or twelve lines on an average. So the entire book just runs in paragraphs. Then, there is hardly any punctuation except commas (in abundance). Dialogs by different characters are separated by commas within a single sentence making it slightly difficult to follow. There are no quotes around conversations, which makes you pay close attention. Second, none of the characters have names. Throughout, they're all addressed by some unique trait that they have. For instance, "girl with dark glasses", "doctor's wife", "old man with black eye patch" and so on. Third, there is no name to the city where this epidemic strikes and there is no definite mention of time when this happens, which lends some kind of uncertainty and timelessness to the novel.<br /><br />The plot itself revolves around the onset of a sudden "white" blindness in a city. There are a handful of characters that come together by chance and face the difficulties, albeit with one pair of eyes -- that of the doctor's wife. Within a matter of days, the whole city is blind and law and order, governance break down quickly. There is chaos everywhere and people are soon resorting to barbaric means to obtain food and basic necessities. Eventually civility disappears. The authorities try to quarantine those struck by the epidemic, but with all losing their sight, there is little point in keeping a few in seclusion. The story revolves around the survival of these blind people amidst the anarchy that results.<br /><br />Saramago glorifies the human spirit. At several places, he speaks very highly of human nature. The nature to help and share, to face adversity with courage, and to stand together in harrowing times. When newspapers today often print news items quite the contradictory, this is a refreshing perspective of human nature indeed.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-45369938459922313182007-12-08T16:12:00.001-08:002007-12-08T16:13:31.146-08:00My Name is RedThere are several notables about this novel. First is the narration. A handful of characters narrate different pieces of the story, thus building a beautiful, continuous piece and at the same time giving their thoughts and opinions. Second is Pamuk's description of sixteenth century Istanbul. Arcane and brilliant at the same time, it rouses in the reader an extremely strong desire to be where the action is. There are numerous stories on painting, art, and illuminating (intertwined within the novel itself), which the characters narrate to put forth a point or express an opinion.<br /><br />The quest for truth and the fear of profanity leads the master illuminators into unexplored territories, then turning them against one another and eventually to murder. There is heavy debate on style, on whether an miniaturist should sign his own painting, and what form of painting is an affront to Allah and Islam. While each of the master illuminators is proud as a peacock (not to mention how proud they are of their wives' beauty), each is also torn between sticking to the ways of Chinese masters and innovating (switching to Frankish style) to preserve a place for himself.<br /><br />The story revolves around a manuscript that the Sultan has commissioned, a book that would glorify his reign. There is varied opinion on its style and how provocative it is, resulting in the feud for power, and murders, around which the story revolves. On the whole, a good book, although the language is distasteful at times.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-19111923767259530712007-06-12T13:27:00.001-07:002007-06-12T13:31:38.506-07:00Federer on ClayI was an ardent tennis fan and Pete Sampras is my favorite. Even after four or five years of his retirement from professional tennis circuit, my loyalty remains unchanged. I still watch and enjoy tennis, so I realize that Roger Federer seems formidable to all his opponents now, perhaps except of course on clay. His recent loss to Nadal at Roland Garros reminded me of Sampras' only semi-final run at French Open in 1996, where he lost to Yevgeny Kafelnikov (it is a solace Kafelnikov eventually went on to win the open). That was a sad moment, because it was the closest he got to the title, unlike Federer, who is a two time finalist. Federer has a lot of great tennis left in him and might still go on to win on clay in the next year or two (unlike Sampras). Once I would have vouched that Sampras' fourteen grand slams was unbeatable. But now I know Federer will beat Sampras' record before he retires, which I am not too happy about. But then, records are meant to be broken and a few years down the line someone else will break Federer's.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-70905316468335630222007-06-08T10:21:00.000-07:002007-12-08T16:15:17.977-08:00List of books I've read2007:<br /><a href="http://greywaves.blogspot.com/2007/06/name-of-rose.html">The name of the Rose</a> - Umberto Eco<br />Banker to the Poor - Muhammad Yunus<br />July's People - Nadine Gordimer<br /><a href="http://greywaves.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-name-is-red.html">My Name is Red</a> - Orhan Pamuk<br /><br />2006:<br />Inheritance of Loss - Kiran Desai<br /><a href="http://greywaves.blogspot.com/2007/05/one-hundred-years-of-solitude.html">One Hundred Years of Solitude</a> - Gabriel Garcia Marquez<br />Dracula - Bram Stoker<br /><a href="http://greywaves.blogspot.com/2007/05/lord-of-flies.html">Lord of the Flies</a> - William Golding<br /><br />2005:<br />One flew over the cuckoo's nest - Ken Kesey<br />Canary row - John Steinbeck<br />Sweet Thursday - John Steinbeck<br />Short stories by American authors<br />Beloved - Toni Morrison<br />Things fall apart - Chinua Achebe<br />The great Gatsby - Scott Fitzgerald<br />Years of childhood: AKe - Wole Soyinka<br />Heavier than heaven - Charles R. Cross<br />Random walk down wall street - Burton G. Malkiel<br />Trial - Franz KafkaWu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-89712242967984121572007-06-08T09:56:00.001-07:002007-06-08T10:00:23.056-07:00The Name of the RoseIt's very hard for me to write a fair and personal review on this book. First, because of all the Latin text, which I initially tried to follow by hopping on to the web every now and then. I began to realize I was spending way too much time understanding these (I have more books to read) and so decided to find the meanings of only those phrases that seemed important to me, given the context, or those that occurred repeatedly. Well, it worked (because I finished reading the novel), but I am sure I have missed a great deal in not understanding those beautiful phrases, which convey much more than a reader like me can perceive. Books like these are lot more than a rudimentary plot. Often they express and solicit varied opinions on bigger things like life, its meaning, death or trivial things like sleep, dreams, food etc. At every stage the richness of content and power of words feed to your mind, forcing you to think and form a viewpoint. As for the novel itself, it is sort of firsts to me in some respects. Being my first about early Christianity, it was a great opportunity to read about Franciscans, Benedictines, Papal legations, and monks. The story itself moved at a relatively slow pace giving ample time to absorb these details. The manner in which chapters have been titled is novel. One handicap was that I was unable to visualize their settings and appearances very clearly (although I did surf for images on the web). I plan to watch the movie soon. On the whole, a different kind of book to read. I am still in the process of figuring out the meaning of the final Latin hexameter.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-44059048576004422712007-05-28T09:17:00.000-07:002007-05-28T09:21:16.882-07:00One Hundred Years of SolitudeI read this book over a period of six months. It's not the kind you can't put down. There are so many characters spinning around and so many things happening over such an extended period of time, to comprehend it all takes a while. That multiple characters have same name make it a little more harder. Very thoughtful of the author to have provided a family tree right in the beginning.<br /><br />It has one of the most beautiful opening lines impressively followed by pages portraying Jose Arcadio Buendia's passion for science. I loved the reference to ice, magnets, earth and its shape, the compass and so on. Unbeatable portrayal of a curious mind. Set in a fictional village Macondo, it traces Buendia's family history over a period of one hundred years. This is my first attempt at reading magical realism and there are parts of this book I thoroughly enjoyed. Somewhere in between, I thought it got a little repetitive with the arrival of Pilar Ternera. However, after a few pages of boredom, it always got interesting, so I had to just hang in there. Since I read this more than a year ago, I am unable to mention finer details. Ursula's character lived for most part of the novel, being a pillar of the huge family from beginning to end. Melquiades' character was like Godfather for the entire Buendia family, continuing to live even after his demise through his parchments. The closing pages are equally absorbing and sound so surreal, especially the sentence<br /><br /><blockquote>The first of the line is tied to a tree and the last is being eaten by the ants.</blockquote><br />It is hard to keep the reader's attention to the variety of events happening to all the Buendias, their sons and daughters, and their offsprings. But Garcia Marquez has achieved the same effortlessly by combining science, history, war, and magical realism. A classic.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-76936730580071173042007-05-28T05:22:00.000-07:002007-05-28T05:27:36.107-07:00Lord of the Flies<blockquote>"The theme is an attempt to trace the defect of society back to the defect of human nature." -- William Golding</blockquote><br />When I started reading 'Lord of the Flies' by William Golding, I was rather amused. In my enthusiasm to get started, I had skipped the introduction by E.M. Forster and was blissfully unaware of the impending twists and turns. I was plain lucky, because I did not know what to expect and as the stage was set, I was getting prepared for a fun filled adventure. Well, needless to say I received pin pricks and huge shocks as I read. The murder of Simon was unexpected and the language used to describe it was subtle, yet intense. I had to read the para thrice to make sure I was understanding it right. I began to realize this was an adventure of a very different kind. Another important feature is the emotions characters are able to evoke. Anger towards Jack, sympathy towards Piggy, and admiration towards Ralph surfaced purely because of the beautiful language. Although I have little patience for pages describing locales, I must admit this one was done in a very engrossing way. Well, I don't wish to let out anything more than I already have.<br /><br />Through a bunch of eleven or twelve year olds (and some even younger), Golding has proved emphatically how very human we all are. Behind the facade of civilization and development, we are all just animals eventually drifting towards chaos and savagery. It is as if our true self comes to the forefront when devoid of rules. If this is what pre-teens are capable of, I wonder what would happen with adults in the same situation. Would we be more disciplined and rational? I doubt it. A lot more would have happened in the first few pages, I am sure.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-2805888524295091272007-05-05T19:09:00.000-07:002007-05-05T19:10:49.314-07:00Poor childA poor child<br />ceases to be a child<br />for there is no laughter<br />only the rage to survive<br />for there is no dream<br />to dream means color and life<br />for there is no life.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-82070869236841454702007-04-07T20:47:00.001-07:002007-04-07T20:49:15.901-07:00Rubik's cubeMy life was like a pocket cube<br />unsolved, yet simple<br />some moves here and some there<br />I could see the smoke clear.<br /><br />It turned into a standard cube<br />as I was finishing my teens<br />I started judging each face<br />but things hardly felt in place.<br /><br />It progressed into a Rubik's revenge<br />to remind me of all my mistakes<br />cubes deceived to be where they belong<br />and gave me a sense of false aplomb.<br /><br />It is spiraling into a professor's cube<br />I stare helplessly at new dimensions<br />that get added at twice the rate I age<br />tagging along and taking center stage.<br /><br />I wonder if there is an algorithm to use<br />deep in my heart I know there is none<br />my life is meant to be a magic cube<br />that I will forever try to solve.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1165547746104313752006-12-07T19:13:00.000-08:002006-12-26T20:09:57.992-08:00On the fast laneHis wagon rushed like a wanton thought<br />etching its own free course, as his<br />torpid mind stared through drowsy eyes,<br />dancing from those shots of spirits.<br /><br />The wagon found its prey, driving over<br />drooping bodies and dreamy minds<br />relieving them of poverty and of life<br />and leaving behind a few orphans.<br /><br />His mind was still dancing.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This is for all those people who sleep on pavements and beneath flyovers. Where we wake up to sunshine, they are truly lucky to even count another new day -- not run over by careless drivers.</span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1161920936178031352006-10-26T20:45:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:09:49.396-08:00Title - TBDHarmless lies and unclaimed mistakes<br />as a flock of birds, similar in anonymity<br />screaming thoughts in ranting mind<br />thick as a stacking column of smoke<br />nameless fancies and fledgling hopes<br />making separate trips to lotus land<br />contained anger and pungent humor<br />hidden behind a mask of muteness<br />sprouting ideas and simple questions<br />like potter's clay that never take a mold<br />unfounded doubts and modicum of hate<br />that try to flourish and painlessly revive.<br /><br />Lost in the humdrum of days and weeks<br />that spread like an unending fabric, and<br />struggling to decipher the road ahead.<br />These short emotions go unheeded,<br />tangled as the yarn that made the web<br />like a pile of seeds scattered all over<br />unless one decides to sprout and<br />touch the purple cloud.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Just a thought on all those fleeting emotions that cross my mind during the day. Nothing stays long enough, it all changes with the situation. Wanted to capture it in words, but I am really not sure if it's conveying what I want to. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1160697220312562322006-10-12T16:48:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:09:37.366-08:00Random flower<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1581/1600/flower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1581/320/flower.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This is my first drawing on Adobe Photoshop. It started really random and confused, but eventually I managed to give it some shape. I know there are some visible nicks and cuts, but hopefully next image will be better.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-56983770712529506622006-10-04T18:20:00.000-07:002007-06-13T19:20:49.484-07:00Coke BlakI got a taste of this new drink today. I have no clue how long it's been in the market, but I purchased a few bottles just two days back. The packaging looked neat and the new dark brown and black bottle was a welcome respite. The drink was not. The ad says it's a fusion beverage, but I'd prefer to call it confusion. It tastes of cola, coffee, hazelnut, and something else that I can't place in my mind right away (although the ad claims "Experience the fusion of coke effervescence with coffee essence"). The last thing it did was inspire my mind, not to mention the headache I had thereafter. The quest to increase market share by an infinitesimal percent and outdo the competitors is giving rise to these terrible concoctions. As I write, I wonder what else is brewing!Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-17350565011218015902006-09-27T16:11:00.000-07:002007-06-13T19:20:10.716-07:00Inanimate companyOff late whenever I've had to undertake a long journey alone and by bus (I can't afford air or train travel), I find myself occupying my seat as well as the one next to mine. Either I've stretched my legs, or have some of my belongings on the seat, I am simply looking out of the window scared someone might ask if they can sit next to me, or better still, I have a hostile expression on my face. I've seen other people do it too, and this strategy actually works. I want to make my small home in the bus for those few hours and guard it like my territory. In the company of my ipod and laptop, both of which perform for me, I do not see the need for a person nearby. I know others who prefer cell phones and video games. This is the latest commuting protocol that I've learnt.<br /><br />It's interesting how travel has changed. When my mother used to travel alone a decade back, she invariably came home with stories about someone she met on the train or bus, how they kept chatting all along, food they exchanged, and much more. She even got their phone numbers at times, though she never called them afterwards. But then she met people and had company.<br /><br />Despite the facilities and frills attached to travel these days, I really don't know how many people look forward to the 'journey' itself. The attitude is to get over with the time commuting, then relax and<br />enjoy once the destination is reached. And yes, whether the journey is long or short, we are all hooked and wired.<br /><br />This post is not about how we've changed or how unfriendly we are. Technology has played a pivotal role in making us the kind of travel companions we are today. It's cool to have all your gadgets in grand display, an assertion that 'I am traveling with my troupe'. Well, just wondering how things will be ten years from now. Would the troupe have more members or would it be disbanded?<br /><br />Note: Books are not included in this category becasue I strongly feel they have life.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1158715357590662572006-09-19T18:18:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:09:19.247-08:00Nature and PhysicsNature is harmony and artistry<br />that kindles this physicist’s curiosity<br />she speaks not, nor she observes<br />she acts of her own free desire, but<br />has a benign heart to let me watch.<br />To study what she does is hard<br />to see how she does is formidable<br />knowing why she does is impossible.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This is part of a poem I wrote on physics and nature for my copoets at NYU. The other stanzas aren't very beautiful, so I decided not to put them here. I am working on making them better. Perhaps I'll use them in some other poem. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1157062815717480152006-08-31T15:19:00.000-07:002006-08-31T15:20:15.743-07:00What's in a poemI recently completed a poetry writing course at NYU. It was indeed an exciting eight week period for me. For a change, I had started looking forward to Thursday evenings.<br /><br />I learnt a host of poetry terms and poetry forms, which is not what I am going to show off here. There was something much more fundamental missing in my earlier poems and my perception of the whole process of<br />writing was flawed. Here are a few things I learnt/ observed.<br /><br />Read your poem aloud - I never used to do this, always muttering the lines under my breath. I never heard how the words sounded or whether they rhymed well. But this new habit gives me a completely different<br />perspective about my poems. Even by reading it aloud to the four walls, I've rid myself of the fear that someone may read what I write.<br /><br />Be honest about why you wrote a poem - It's not that I wanted to be dishonest intentionally, but I always thought I should give very valid and concrete reasons as to why a poem came to my mind. What the heck.<br />It's just a poem and you could write it for any silly reason. I've written many poems only because there were certain words I wanted to use.<br /><br />Every word is not the same - I am a strong believer in equality, but I have to admit that no two words are the same (even if they are synonyms). Some words are melodious and in harmony with others, while<br />some are not. For e.g., nozzle, fish are not beautiful words. There's something about them that's not pleasing to my ears. I've realized this and try to avoid using those words which I don't like.<br /><br />That's all I have to say for now. Later.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1157001523336989602006-08-30T22:13:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:09:09.836-08:00As a teenProfanity was my armor as a teen<br />I heard it in school - it smelt to me<br />like blood does to a carnivore,<br />tasted like my choice dish that<br />I couldn't let go, so as I used it<br />I felt in control and saw it as<br />the start of a revolution in me.<br /><br />My parents hated me the most<br />and they felt terror as I spoke.<br />They loved me more than my sibling<br />Lu, who went to school in Beijing.<br />My dad was home on Mondays and<br />my mom was home on Sundays, so I<br />stayed quiet two consecutive days.<br /><br />To rid me during holidays, I was<br />sent to my grandma's place<br />I threw my cousin into Lammond bay<br />so she spread rumors without delay<br />"Su swore and called God gay", which<br />upset my grandma so she sent me away.<br />I will show her it wasn't my mistake.<br /><br />I was with a cute owl that whole night<br />when I actually saw a black rose bloom.<br />The owl tried to make some rose-hip jam<br />I hit him in the head, called him thug.<br />"Je suis desole, ne chatier pas moi"<br />he cried, and light, light the night smiled.<br />Then I fell off the tree with a smash.<br /><br />My parents promptly arrived to find<br />my ankle bruised bad as a rainbow -<br />red, blue, green and indigo - my naive<br />cousin of deceit watching with regret.<br />Soon we hugged and smiled like mates,<br />made up before I left, but she is a bitch<br />and I cursed her under my breath.<br /><br />Those words had life, but I used them so<br />much they are now old and almost dead<br />that I've laid my weapons to rest.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This is a sad attempt at <a href="http://mypage.siu.edu/puglove/twenty.htm">Jim Simmerman's twenty little poetry projects</a>. It is a challenging task to combine the projects into one poem. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-52187744022048998122006-08-19T16:31:00.000-07:002007-06-13T19:24:50.560-07:00Time to SmileSeven hundred and odd smiling faces, and why not?Yes. I'm referring to our MPs indeed. Their pay package is increasing!! Doubled pension, doubled daily allowance (for attending parliament), two cell phones, dozen more air trips a year and much more. And the bill gets passed faster than the Embraer jets that carry our VIPs. Another one against sting operations might get passed soon. They're working tirelessly.Parliamentary affairs minister Priya Ranjan Das Munshi says --<br /><blockquote>Indian MPs were the lowest paid in the world although they represent the highest<br />number of people.</blockquote>So as India's population spirals out of control (1.6B plus by 2050), our MPs are finally beginning to get the dough they deserve.<br /><blockquote>"If our house functions well, not only salaries but all their allowances should<br />also be increased. Look at how the private sector pays and look at how MPs get<br />paid across the world,"</blockquote>said Rahul Bajaj, Independent MP.I concur completely. Unlike the corporate world, it takes a lot of effort and time to vegetate. This merits some recognition from our side and I'm glad the taxes we pay are helping sustain the homes of these MPs.And then, some MPs also want compensation to be related to performance which, given their history and other pressing issues, will take a long time to implement.Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1156028612089802872006-08-19T16:02:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:08:58.357-08:00On LexI hear the rhythm beside me<br />like the faint beat of a drum<br />it flows with the mild breeze<br />and abruptly ceases, to free<br />me from my skein of thoughts.<br /><br />It resumes in a few seconds<br />once the white man shines<br />its evenness stands apart<br />from all the soft voices,<br />giggles, and clamor around.<br /><br />I'm focussing on the beat now<br />but I fear my curiosity may<br />kill the constancy it shows.<br />But she walks ahead, not a step<br />missed as her blue skirt flows.<br /><br />Between those few blocks I've<br />heard the rise and fall of strides<br />before they fade into the subway.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was on my way to a subway (metro) on Lexington Ave a few weeks back. There was this lady walking near me with such a rhythm in her stride that I was tempted to swing around and take a look. That I did. A few days later when I remembered it, I just scribbled these few lines. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31779590.post-1154913911347352592006-08-06T18:23:00.000-07:002006-12-26T20:08:47.829-08:00MindMy mind just created its twin<br />and they're playing tug-of-war<br />how I wish one would just win<br />they're identical, but never concur.<br /><br />One is here, other is there<br />and they are both getting stronger<br />one is happy and the other gloomy<br />I can feel the increasing polarity.<br /><br />While one is loving, but despaired<br />the other loathes, but is inspired.<br />I know not which one lies, I see<br />not which one is a friend of mine.<br /><br />The game goes on and on<br />can't they sing the same song<br />be of the same stripe and kind<br />oh, the ambivalence of my mind.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Contradiction and chaos are integral part of my life. I built this poem around the first two lines because I liked the idea of twin and tug-of-war applied to my mind. </span>Wu Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11064945545860897349noreply@blogger.com1