Category: El Eye Ef Ee

29 Sep 2017


Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 9:12pm


and what a nine!

29 Sep 2016


Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 2:37pm


7 Jul 2016

The Evening Song

Posted by Oblivion in Poetry & El Eye Ef Ee | 3:44pm

i hugged a tree.
on my fingers
a butterfly perched briefly
and then it flew

fly away it did,
i thought

with its tender wings
it flew, and flew more
across the seas
and thousand miles

the hour was quiet
in those woods deep

it found the tree
that she was hugging
and, it then kissed
her svelte, gentle fingers

oh, and in my heart
i felt a flutter

30 Jun 2016


Posted by Oblivion in Poetry & El Eye Ef Ee | 12:46pm

crimson dusk fades slowly
as the dying murmur
of the restless waves

a gentle breeze from afar
ruffles my hair
i think it's her loving fingers

as the breeze leaves me
my heart flies off, too,
along with her

the clouds are gathering
blurring the distance
and i smell the rain

on these feeble sands
my infirm feet tiptoe
and my fingertips dance

1 Jan 2016

Two Zero One Six

Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 12:27pm

New Year

25 Dec 2015

30 / 30

Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 12:16am

My list* of 30 for the 30 years ending 2015.

Filmmaker: Ram Gopal Varma
Film: Nayakan; Piravi
Composer: Ilaiyaraja
Instrumental album: Nothing But Wind
Background score: Geetanjali / Ilaiyaraja
Cinematographer: A K Bir
Song composition (for film): Ninnu kori varnam / Agni Nachatiram
Actor: Amitabh Bachchan
Lyricist: Seetaramasastri; Veturi
Economist: Raghuram Rajan
Journalist: P Sainath
Editor: Vinod Mehta
Newsmagazine: The Illustrated Weekly of India
Newspaper: The Hindu
City: Varanasi
Beach: Kasargod
Forest: Talakona
Writer: Amitav Ghosh
Poet: Gulzar
Book: A Home in Tibet
Publisher: David Davidar
National integration number: Mile sur mera tumhara
Batsman (cricket): Sachin, The Tendulkar
Bowler: Anil Kumble
Captain: Sourav Ganguly
Television series: Jeevan rekha
Theme score (television): Jeevan rekha / Vanraj Bhatia
Pilgrimage destination: Sarnath
Retreat: Rishi Valley
President: Abdul Kalam

*confined to India


17 Dec 2015

Dumb Charades

Posted by Oblivion in Philosophy & El Eye Ef Ee | 7:02pm

Gustav: What’s down?
Meursault: (drooping) Well…

– Pause –

Gustav: Yeah?
Meursault: I think I will not find answers to any questions.

– Pause –

Meursault: EVER!
Gustav: Maybe there are none!
Meursault: Is that why one can find any answer that fits?
Gustav: Yes.

– Pause –

Gustav: Come over. Join me for a drink.

(sound of the gentle fountain, and footsteps)

Meursault: What happens when you put Sisyphus in a management classroom?
Gustav: Sisyphus changes.
Meursault: No! Only, the boulder becomes heavier. As a consequence, he must roll it up faster!

(the clang of glasses)

Dumb charades


14 Oct 2015

loohcS ot kcaB

Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 7:28pm

Back to School

8 Oct 2015


Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 7:26pm

"According to an ancient Chinese legend, one day in the year 2640 B.C., Princess Si Ling-chi was sitting under a mulberry tree when a silkworm cocoon fell into her teacup. When she tried to remove it, she noticed that the cocoon had begun to unravel in the hot liquid. She handed the loose end to her maidservant and told her to walk. The servant went out of the princess’s chamber, and into the palace courtyard, and through the palace gates, and out of the Forbidden City, and into the countryside a half mile away before the cocoon ran out. (In the West, this legend would slowly mutate over three millennia, until it became the story of a physicist and an apple. Either way, the meanings are the same: great discoveries, whether of silk or of gravity, are always windfalls. They happen to people loafing under trees.)

― Jeffrey Eugenides / Middlesex

{ Save trees; Save the Amazon. }

Save the Amazon


29 Sep 2015


Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 7:23pm


28 Feb 2015

Shades of Grey

Posted by Oblivion in Philosophy & El Eye Ef Ee | 12:25am

Both of [X]’s wives turned out to be expensive to keep, having a predilection for clothes and jewellery. It became clear that [X] had joined al-Qaeda because he needed the money, so therefore the leverage would be offering to help him with his financial needs.

At the next interview, [Y] had $10000 on his desk, which had been taken in a raid. He also forged a divorce petition that indicated to [X] that he could get rid of the more expensive of his wives. Suddenly, [X] started talking in detail about his work as a bomb-maker for al-Qaeda. As the interrogations continued, the interrogators found themselves getting ever closer to the prime object of the manhunt – [Z].

– Source: Manhunt / Alexander Stilwell

Who is innocent? Who exploited whom? I wonder if we have definitive answers for these questions, although any uncertainty on such judgmental questions irks us. Our conditioning with duality compels us to judge in haste and finish with it. We don’t quite like dwelling. We put God and Devil at opposite poles; it’s easy. All ethical, moral and activist rhetoric adopts this slant. The fault is always with the other.

But is it so simplistic? The other is a product of the system, the same system we are part of. Consequently, the responsibility befalls on each one of us. Greed is encouraged in consumerist systems, and it passes off as innocuous, and even desirable, trait. It appears harmless. When we sit and dig deeper, the stories the layers unravel might be appalling. The finger then turns about and points to oneself.

God and Devil are never at the poles, for there are none. All we have is shades of grey. Innumerable shades of grey. And God and Devil are somewhere there, lurking, playing hide-and-seek.


30 Dec 2014


Posted by Oblivion in Poetry & El Eye Ef Ee | 11:18am

how shall i bury you
in the graveyard of time

i fear -
when i come visiting
to soak in my fond memories
will i be able to find you here
and will you welcome me
with the same smile
of the familiar

when you, instead, visit me
will you do so
at moments unwelcome
and wring my placid hour
with haunting nightmares
that i must forget

as you leave me so
as you un-partner me
in this unfinished shower
i stand frigid, wet
dripping in shame
unclothed, unclean, uncertain

a little more shrewd
a little less wise
a lot more fucked
and a little more dead


5 Nov 2014


Posted by Oblivion in Poetry & El Eye Ef Ee | 9:33pm

she chases you;
center of the world
you are for her
you run, you evade
she can't catch
yet loves the chase
and then, she dies

when your feet
find their ground
you do the chase
the baby runs
you can't catch
yet you won't stop
and then, you die

is this the all
of life, then
a futile run?
a vestige of death
unlived and forgotten

but then, you noticed -
did you not -
the glee in her eyes
when she, briefly,
caught you, and held
to her bosom

the same sparkle
of joy untold
you find
in the little one's
when, briefly though,
she is caught by you

how did your feet
you now wonder 
not get hurt
running in that wild

it was so,   
for your father's hands
rested firmly
below your tender feet
whose every step
was the throb
of his heart

and now your
pining heart knows
as your hands, too,
brave the rigid ground
to make for 
the steps gentle
of the little one

that unmistakable glee
in their eyes
that shower their love
on you,
those invisible hands
that protect
on every torrid tread

they extend,
they transcend,
days, years, ages
and all limits of time
and embrace you
in all your moments
even when, done in by death
you turn formless

for, the best joys
the glistening tear
the lilting song
and the love
of the loving
and for the loved
are they not formless?

27 Oct 2014

Traceless Flight

Posted by Oblivion in Philosophy & Fiction & El Eye Ef Ee | 12:21am

You can reconcile with death, partly because it is choiceless. Just as the claws of an eagle that hold fast its prey, death holds you captive. Its clasp is firm and its strike, final. When the errand is done, it leaves behind nothing, just as the flight of the eagle does not, either. The inevitability of this fate at once justifies the seeming absurdity of life.

In contrast, dying is tougher to reconcile with. Unlike death whose move is abrupt, the abject process of dying invites you into its hold and imposes its contours on your unwilling person. Its biggest triumph is in putting you against yourself. One part clings to the hope of surviving so you can return to the familiar; the other is strangled to give in. In this very ambivalence, dying and living merge as a continuum. 

What you are familiar with, you realise, is not life but living. The only thing that needs to be understood, if you must understand life, is death.


29 Sep 2014


Posted by Oblivion in El Eye Ef Ee | 11:20pm


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