Theatre

It was the month of 'Margazhi'. She remembered a lot of things about margazhi. The month of biting temperatures, the month of howling loudspeakers, the month of too many holidays, the month of too many resolutions(the new year of the gregorian calendar fell sometime then), the month of intimacies(oops! now that was intrusive), the month of fragrances, the month of hopes and finally the month of prayers and music!
She started walking to the temple, her hair dripping wet, an old basket with all the pooja items in it. She remembered how she, as a child, would walk like that throughout the month, evading dogs at that odd hour, four in the morning, reciting slogans in her mind (slogans in the sanskritian sense, not the hazare sense), under the notion that she was a part of the divine, eagerly wanting to reach the temple and get engrossed in whatever is happening there. She remembered how she earned the displeasure of her friends in her neighbourhood for being superfluously pious. She remembered how she bathed Mr.Vinayagar and decorated him, how she tilted her head to look at her decorated deity whose decoration would soon be demolished, but would again be decorated much blandly than her decoration. The cold stung her now, but she would let her ample fat handle it.
She reached the temple pre-occupied as usual. She found it hard to evade the glances of the other Mamis and ladies. She hated the general assumption that she came to the temple praying for a good husband. Darn!! She spiritlessly helped the other ladies with the rangolis and went around the deity(doesn't matter which) 108 times wishing she could have the song of her choice to be played on the loudspeaker. Few of the songs were good that she lost count of how many times she went around the deity,not that it mattered to her. She waited for the pooja to start. She knew the mantras(or whatever) by heart. She learnt them unconsciously, by repetitive listening.
The last was 'parithranaya saadhu naam....' Her face brightened! Then came the singing of the people of the dais. A looooooooooot of singing. She didn't know what the songs meant. She just loved the tunes. She loved the devotion in the voices. Others voices were devoted to God. She didn't know what her voice contained. She loved to sing. She was afraid if some blasphemous thought would make her laugh and cause a commotion, but she realized there were no intrusions when she started to sing. She wished it went on for few more hours. This was her music class in disguise. She learned everyday. She had to help distribute prasadham and leave. People thought her piousness was a continuum. She used to do that as a child and she was pushed into doing it after a decade now.
She liked the role of being a pious theist in her own drama, but the trouble wouldn't have been worth the drama hadn't it been for the music.

Usually..

Today was one of my unusually usual days. Unusual because I wasn't working. Yeah, I know it's a Sunday. But happens so that I've been working all Sundays lately. I always dream of reading voluminously all Sundays but I also dream of de-stressing voluminously. I end up doing the latter. And when I realize that I have de-stressed myself too much, I am stressed and I need more de-stressing!
The 'usual' adjective was used coz 'this happens on almost all my holidays'. The good thing is, right now I have time to function under stress and compensate for the excessive de-stressing! Life's good!

The word 'm e l d' (read as a word)

The word 'm e l d' seems highly strange and ideated! Though trivial(that's why this blog exists- for the most trivial reasons) , the funniness of the fact that this word appears strange, is just more than just trivial. We use 'MELD score'(written and read in capitals unlike 'm e l d' which is written in lower-cases and spelled as a word!!! ) to assess the severity of liver disease. Somehow this has pushed 'meld' out of existence form my Hippocampus and the Wernicke's area.It can never mean what it actually used to mean, ever again. Come, let's mourn the expectoration of the once meaningful word from my brain. Guess it happens to everybody. If you haven't mourned for those words you've expelled, now is the chance to mourn with me.

A bad 'second'

This blog acclaims the idleness of the first. Created to accompany the first, this is designed to be more nonsensical and to convey through all means, the nonsense that was restrained in the first .Predicted, is the combined idleness of both the blogs. The survival of this blog is highly questionable. At the risk of increase in my dissociation, this blog is declared open to all who risk their sanity.