my baby
shot me down.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
kyoot
Sometimes, I'm just in the frame of mind when I think everything is cute. Have you ever had those phases?
Anyway. A little boy/ say of three or maybe four, / in an afro stood at the/ corner of 76th/ and Amsterdam avenue.
His big sister she tried to/ pull him away and be on / their way but he wouldn't budge. / Stood transfixed, blankly staring.
Slowly a small crowd gathered/ (mostly women, of course), and/ they oohed and aahed from time to /time. It was so very cute.
In a few years he will be/ the same decaying matter/ as everybody else.
Just breaking it up into sevens for your reading pleasure. Who knows, you might think it's cute./
Anyway. A little boy/ say of three or maybe four, / in an afro stood at the/ corner of 76th/ and Amsterdam avenue.
His big sister she tried to/ pull him away and be on / their way but he wouldn't budge. / Stood transfixed, blankly staring.
Slowly a small crowd gathered/ (mostly women, of course), and/ they oohed and aahed from time to /time. It was so very cute.
In a few years he will be/ the same decaying matter/ as everybody else.
Just breaking it up into sevens for your reading pleasure. Who knows, you might think it's cute./
Saturday, February 20, 2010
The baking roster
Just because I felt like .
- Brownies made with cake mixes and a stirrer, diligently stirring 50 times as instructed. The sickly sweet mediocre ones.
- Cheesecake, a homage to New York, a first experiment at baking from first principles, although admittedly the cream cheese was packaged.
- Red velvet cake. Given my reluctance to add artificial colouring, this one just ended up looking brown. And I also found it decidedly un-velvety.
- Recipe for cold lemon souffle - too little gelling agent = Cold lemon soup.
- Pineapple-upside-down cake, for my lovely beneviolent's birthday. I burnt the caramel the first time around.
- Marble brownies. Moist, crunchy, marble brownies. Swearing that I will never again touch a cake mix. What for? We've got real talent here.
- Banana walnut cake. I love bananas. I love walnuts. End of story.
- Blueberry crumb cake. Moist cake, warm, gooey berry filling, and crunchy buttery top. Say mmm.
- Chocolate chip sea-salt cookies. A revelation.
- French Macarons with chocolate almond buttercream. I am still shocked that I pulled this one off successfully.
- Lace cookies dipped in dark chocolate. Lapped up by 25 fellow bakers at a cookie exchange event. I'm still smiling.
- Lemon squares with shortbread crust. lemony lemony lemony. It's never too lemony for me.
Many more and still counting. A year later, I weigh exactly the same and I'm considering that an achievement.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
New age
It was love at first sight.
As if something --
just clicked.
Pressing down on her little heart she
meets him; goes to every party he's been to,
listens in when he reaches out to old friends
although she doesn't say much.
He's perfect for her, he shares her
political views (libertarian),
favourite movies (A river runs through it),
music (swedish pop).
Unfortunately,
it's hard to get your feelings
across as a facebook stalker.
As if something --
just clicked.
Pressing down on her little heart she
meets him; goes to every party he's been to,
listens in when he reaches out to old friends
although she doesn't say much.
He's perfect for her, he shares her
political views (libertarian),
favourite movies (A river runs through it),
music (swedish pop).
Unfortunately,
it's hard to get your feelings
across as a facebook stalker.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Where have all the flowers gone
After I'd eaten my weight in food at Curly's, I was heading back to subway with my doggy-bag. I muttered under my breath about not buying warm gloves. At -6 degrees, it definitely feels long overdue.
At the entrance of the yellow subway line, I saw a homeless man. He was wearing cloth wrapped around his feet (shoes), pens stuck into his ears (muffs) and was folding some extra clothes into a black trash bag (home), which already had in it a few empty plastic bottles and a bag of chips. That was it. All his belongings.
I looked at the brown bag in my hand, then at him. I said, "Excuse me, would you like to have this sandwich?". He flashed a toothless smile at me, and extended his hand. I handed the food to him and as I turned back, he pulled my arm. I can't tell for sure, but I think he was holding his arms open to hug me. He had dark grime under his fingernails. He probably sensed my hesitation; he withdrew his arms and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" with the same toothless grin. I gave him a hurried smile and continued down the stairs. Once I was on the platform, I patted off the dust from his hands on my coat-sleeve.
Did I just do a good deed? I don't feel so good.
At the entrance of the yellow subway line, I saw a homeless man. He was wearing cloth wrapped around his feet (shoes), pens stuck into his ears (muffs) and was folding some extra clothes into a black trash bag (home), which already had in it a few empty plastic bottles and a bag of chips. That was it. All his belongings.
I looked at the brown bag in my hand, then at him. I said, "Excuse me, would you like to have this sandwich?". He flashed a toothless smile at me, and extended his hand. I handed the food to him and as I turned back, he pulled my arm. I can't tell for sure, but I think he was holding his arms open to hug me. He had dark grime under his fingernails. He probably sensed my hesitation; he withdrew his arms and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" with the same toothless grin. I gave him a hurried smile and continued down the stairs. Once I was on the platform, I patted off the dust from his hands on my coat-sleeve.
Did I just do a good deed? I don't feel so good.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Objects of iridescent nacre
A lifeless colour thanks you:
For walking under indigo skies just before daybreak.
For waking me up from my relentless morning slumber, day after day after day.
For telling me I am lucky.
For listening patiently when I irritatingly complained about the state of my room at four in the morning.
For being so much like me and yet poles apart.
For believing in me when I didn't.
For telling me I can't have everything.
For always being there even though I wasn't, for you.
For liking me even though I make the same predictable mistakes over and over again.
For knowing the signal from the noise.
For being the most selfless person I have ever known.
For letting some of that selflessness rub off on me.
For allowing me to compliment myself while complimenting you.
For needing me too, once in a while.
And that's not the half of it.
For walking under indigo skies just before daybreak.
For waking me up from my relentless morning slumber, day after day after day.
For telling me I am lucky.
For listening patiently when I irritatingly complained about the state of my room at four in the morning.
For being so much like me and yet poles apart.
For believing in me when I didn't.
For telling me I can't have everything.
For always being there even though I wasn't, for you.
For liking me even though I make the same predictable mistakes over and over again.
For knowing the signal from the noise.
For being the most selfless person I have ever known.
For letting some of that selflessness rub off on me.
For allowing me to compliment myself while complimenting you.
For needing me too, once in a while.
And that's not the half of it.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
And suddenly sunny
Just like that.
I was wrong. Your words are capable of shaking me out of every misery. I love you, and that is about all there is to it.
Le sigh
Was I unsurprised? I shouldn't have been. Was I in my senses? I couldn't have been.
Dreams do come true. They momentarily shatter your reality. They don't allow you to enjoy perfect New York weather, instead making you curl up as if it is dark and windy outside.
Dreams do come true, and it is neither sparkling nor magical. Nothing, not even the spell you weave with words about being a gaijin can shake me out of my misery. It is like that time the Bombay local train ticket checker looked at me funny, not believing me when I said I really had lost my ticket and tearing a fine for Rs. 175. It made me go red in the face. Except this time I AM guilty, and no one caught me. My face is flushed warm and my hands are cold and I hate it. Funnily, I never thought this sort of thing could disturb me. I, who can neatly deconstruct a relationship, did not see this coming.
You know what my problem is? I (beep)ing* never see anything coming.
But I have a plan. This time, there will be no rewind and repeat, I promise.
(* Yes, even in my insanity, I do not lose sense of propriety - That's part of the plan. Cursing is for losers anyway.)
Dreams do come true. They momentarily shatter your reality. They don't allow you to enjoy perfect New York weather, instead making you curl up as if it is dark and windy outside.
Dreams do come true, and it is neither sparkling nor magical. Nothing, not even the spell you weave with words about being a gaijin can shake me out of my misery. It is like that time the Bombay local train ticket checker looked at me funny, not believing me when I said I really had lost my ticket and tearing a fine for Rs. 175. It made me go red in the face. Except this time I AM guilty, and no one caught me. My face is flushed warm and my hands are cold and I hate it. Funnily, I never thought this sort of thing could disturb me. I, who can neatly deconstruct a relationship, did not see this coming.
You know what my problem is? I (beep)ing* never see anything coming.
But I have a plan. This time, there will be no rewind and repeat, I promise.
(* Yes, even in my insanity, I do not lose sense of propriety - That's part of the plan. Cursing is for losers anyway.)
Friday, October 2, 2009
Soundless thoughts on weary nights
Maybe I can curl up into a fetal roll and cross my arms and clench my fists and shut, shut, shut the world out.
Or wear waist-length hair and open my arms and look up at the sky and run to the horizon on dew-topped grass.
-
Yeah, same pinch bub: We're both commitment-phobes.
-
Today I wore my long black coat to work. A lot of people probably did, the streets looked visibly duller. Today I got my first static shock in months. Oh my god, winter is here.
-
At midnight, I tore away the aluminium foil and slowly placed the heavy waffle (loaded with promise to deliver) on the plate. I opened the takeaway containers full of joyful accompaniments. I cut through the then-sauce-now-paste. I heated. I scooped out generous spoonfuls of the nut-buttery caramel that had melted into the little square bowls of the waffle. I forgot my fatigue for a few quiet moments.
(No No darling, thank YOU for being such a wonderful guest.)
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