The week whizzed past or what?
I want to write something brilliant and hilarious but have no idea what. In a way it is good. I believe that creativity is largely a function of mental disturbance – one way or the other. The fact that I can’t be creative now means I must be tranquil.
Or I am taking the easy way out.
I have been on the road more than usual this week. I have been driving the kid around to play dates (do you call them playdates when the kids are teenagers?) and gallivanting around the city, not letting the heat go waste, following up on hypochondriacal relatives, and so on. The (imaginary) issues are finally resolved, I hope.
While driving, I have a compulsive need to listen to the radio. The programmes drive me crazy, but I need them. I wait for the elusive Ilayaraja song in the mixed bag of all kinds of crap. Of late, even Ilayaraja songs irritate me, not as much for the music (Ilayaraja is brilliant with music arrangement except chorus voices) as the lyrics. Most songs are veiled references to sex (sometimes the veil is omitted altogether) or are so cheesy that I am afraid my eyes would get permanently set to rolling. That set me thinking. Am I getting old and the hormones are drying up so that I get put off by cheesy innuendos ? Not that I was very romantic to begin with, but these days, I just want to say “oh please, get it done with and move on”. I wonder if the writers of these songs are horny, hormone crazed youngsters.
While bloghopping a couple of days ago, I landed on a blogsite which seemed to be a collection of poetry. I am intrigued by poetry – I can’t write one, and am always curious about what makes poetry. This one got on my nerves. Is breaking up prose into random short lines all it takes to call it poetry? The “poems” in the site went something like this (the content is my own here..just to give you an idea).
I wonder if life is
Very nice in childhood where
Children play in
The sun, but what happens
When you grow up
The entire blog was something like this. Ah, but I am poetry-blind, so I probably don’t understand the nuances of it and am merely discounting what I don’t get as sour grapes.
The hottest 21 days of the Hindu lunar calendar (agni nakshatram – fire star) began yesterday. In my coastal city, the first ten days aren’t usually very bad, but the heat would catch up towards the latter part of the period, and continue until forever. Or what would seem like forever. I can’t shake off the feeling that this year would be worse than the earlier years, because of the failure of last year’s monsoon. My greater nervousness is that once the scorching season is done, monsoon had better not disappoint us this year. Is anyone else in this part of the world as worried as I am?
I told you I am not particularly sparkly and bright today. I’ll stop here before you fall over your digital device in abject boredom.