In days filled with..
Assortments of garments piled high on display, a dizzying collection complete with for sale exclamations ..
A sea of humanity trying to out bargain the other..
A more "sophisticated" sea vying with the other for the more expensive purchase
A sea of consumerism..
Gucci clad women, high heeled and skinny jeaned, flamboyantly bagged, blue toothed cell phoned men, teenagers clad in shorts and black slippers (why does everyone look the same?)..
Amidst a head spinning array of merchandise.....
skin colored make up counters shimmering with blue and pink glitter, blue coloured perfume shelves, each fragrance more saccharine than the other, steel and diamond watches, cold to the touch, bags and belts glaring from the sidelines, shoes and accessories glittering and golden, coffee counters with a nauseating aroma of hastily brewed- muddy beverages in Styrofoam cups and crumbs of muffin on the tables....
In the midst of all this imagine..
A brown branch of a tree bent in the night breeze, with dark green leaves , specked with dew, and in the pale light of the moon, the bough is inky blue and the leaves inky green and the dewdrops glistening like globules of mercury swaying gently in the breeze..
The taste of bittersweet coffee drunk after a chunk of dark chocolate, the ones with nuts, smothering the sweetness with its subtle fragrance, the first few sips only, warm and invigorating..
A single pink rose, swept wildly in the breeze, in the windowsill of the house on the edge of the cliff, looking down on the chalky white sea raging behind, observed in the moonlight by the stranger in the house..
The sense of clam which pervades after you cry your heart out..
The first rush of love or affection at the sound of a long forgotten voice, or the involuntary smile at their messages..
Music which electrifies you in a movie theatre , spine-tingling , mesmerising melody..
Early morning paper reading sessions with a cup of tea..
Standing in an air conditioned room and feeling the warmth of the sun through a bay window..
A few flavours to get you started..
7 comments:
reminded me of the time I peered through a kaleidoscope...an intricately woven narrative !
Too many emotions. Is that a genuine disregard for the lack of uniqueness or a disgust at the monotonous way or the overall gloom that is catching up even in India.
Nice and cheery though towards the end, a bit of romanticism and the hope of better things to come or just another girl who believes in Jane Austin.
so Namrata,is it your absolute disdain for material things?Would you judge people who are avaricious and acquisitive by nature? I know its just your flow of thoughts which you've expressed with brilliant clarity and amazing fluidity..but still I'd like to know...-kadambari
At the risk of being called a “desperate”, let me say that your style of writing has a unique appeal..something of its own...never saw something like this before in my life. I read a lot and write myself but my writing is mostly on intellectual pitch, while I saw you make better intellectual pitch in a much poetic and natural way and with no effort. I am really jealous of you. If I compare honestly, I am a writer who struggles a lot and your writing communicates “natural fluency”.
Why don’t you try out a career in writing? PGP from ISB sounds rather mundane against this quality of yours. You may not want to give attention to me but lemme confess I am becoming a fan of your writing. I hope you do not take it otherwise and acknowledge my appreciation in right spirit
At the risk of being called a “desperate”, let me say that your style of writing has a unique appeal..something of its own...never saw something like this before in my life. I read a lot and write myself but my writing is mostly on intellectual pitch, while I saw you make better intellectual pitch in a much poetic and natural way and with no effort. I am really jealous of you. If I compare honestly, I am a writer who struggles a lot and your writing communicates “natural fluency”.
Why don’t you try out a career in writing? PGP from ISB sounds rather mundane against this quality of yours. You may not want to give attention to me but lemme confess I am becoming a fan of your writing. I hope you do not take it otherwise and acknowledge my appreciation in right spirit
No more blogs after Jan...everything allright?
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