"What is this world ...so full of care...we have no time to stand and stare!" I remember reading this poem titled "Leisure" in standard IV, where this workman with his tools is staring wistfully at lush green meadows. Back then I could not figure out why was he so sad and wistful. Nearly two decades down the line..I do.
DEADLINES....that's the crux of life. Man in my Standard IV textbook...i now know why u were so sad!
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Introduction
After having read n-number of blogs by friends and acquaintances--and lots of thoughts how to write and what to write i have finally decided to write on whatever comes to mind-- which is why i decided to call my blog a "medley of musings".
Ironically -- I make a living out of writing...so you could call me a confused scribe lost in the world of bulls and bears , bonds and yields...trying to get my creative juices flow. "From the city of joy -- to the city of dreams" is what i could call my life so far. I hail from the land of Tagore and Bose and like most of my kinsmen, swear by literature. In love with the written word from as early as I can remember and I have been lucky that our friend above-- has landed me quite fairly and squarely among hordes of scribes where I fought to make my place under the sun.
I came to the the city of dreams as a girl...and here I am --a woman --four years down the line, realising some dreams...and dreaming some more...sometimes with my eyes closed and sometimes with my eyes wide open.
Well That is Bombay for you....if you are a dream merchant...there's no stopping you in Bombay unless of course you are blown to bits in a packed local train and the next day everybody salutes the spirit of Mumbai!
But we have very short-lived memories here, so life goes on...till another rude shock takes the lives of a few more innocents and then everybody says " We had done everything possible!!" But that does not deter our much talked about spirit, we do not pack our bags and leave for our spacious homes back in our cities of origin...we prefer to live on the edge in matchboxes in the city of dreams...hoping and dreaming...dreaming and hoping........
And life goes on.............
Ironically -- I make a living out of writing...so you could call me a confused scribe lost in the world of bulls and bears , bonds and yields...trying to get my creative juices flow. "From the city of joy -- to the city of dreams" is what i could call my life so far. I hail from the land of Tagore and Bose and like most of my kinsmen, swear by literature. In love with the written word from as early as I can remember and I have been lucky that our friend above-- has landed me quite fairly and squarely among hordes of scribes where I fought to make my place under the sun.
I came to the the city of dreams as a girl...and here I am --a woman --four years down the line, realising some dreams...and dreaming some more...sometimes with my eyes closed and sometimes with my eyes wide open.
Well That is Bombay for you....if you are a dream merchant...there's no stopping you in Bombay unless of course you are blown to bits in a packed local train and the next day everybody salutes the spirit of Mumbai!
But we have very short-lived memories here, so life goes on...till another rude shock takes the lives of a few more innocents and then everybody says " We had done everything possible!!" But that does not deter our much talked about spirit, we do not pack our bags and leave for our spacious homes back in our cities of origin...we prefer to live on the edge in matchboxes in the city of dreams...hoping and dreaming...dreaming and hoping........
And life goes on.............
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