A sky full of promises ...

Woke up to cloudy skies. May be it will rain today. May be it wont. But right now, the promise is beautiful enough for me.

Wonders Of The Solar System: Empire Of The Sun

Happened to chance upon this while channel surfing. The first episode of the "Wonders Of The Solar System" series on BBC Entertainment today. Totally Awesome !!!
An utterly charming presenter, Professor Brian Cox has that infectious way people have when they are so obviously talking about the things they love. So often, the beauty of science is lost in the dryness of its approach. This one brings back the wonder !!!

Stunning visuals - Wild rivers, the heart of the amazonian forests, extinct volcanoes, the driest desert and the magical northern lights or the "Aurora Borealis" (in pic). The story of the sun, it's birth and the imminent (may be not by our scale of time, but yes imminent it is) death is told through the green of the leaves and the white blue of the surging waters. And they always always keep it real. My fav part is a beautiful long shot of a lone man with a telescope on a mountain top against the vastness of the night.

Made me think about my life and how little my daily pursuits mean in the life of this universe. A little late in the day to become an astronomer now but I can always look at the sky and peace out. Maybe buy a telescope when I am a little richer, and may be have a kid and show him the stars. I think gazing at the stars keeps you humble.

in between books :)

the pleasure of finishing a book is followed by another pleasure - of being bookless for a while. feel a little weight lost in your bag when you leave home. your fingers need not be bookmarks anymore when you look out the window in the bus. look at the highway, the speeding cars, the birds, the breeze, the salt fields in the morning light. watch the world in slo-mo or fast cuts, as you choose. it's all lovely. nothing to go back to. nothing to come back to. nothing not to forget behind.

and when you come home from work, go take a look at your shelf. your modest treasure lies in these dusty ruins. not too long though, for you already know which one to pick next. the pleasure of finishing a book is followed by another pleasure - starting a new one.

In The City Of Sylvia

Just finished my second viewing. Pure delight. A veritable treat. A loving long look at all things beautiful. An open celebration of the sometimes guilty pleasure of watching people. A story of half finished sketches, of romances unfinished and never begun and of the ineffable beauty of the fleeting human gaze. Of the tyranny of memory which sometimes drives you to mild obsessions. Of an artist, a lover, a poet in the city of Sylvia.

The Scent Of Green Papaya

I loved this. Relished it in all it's lushness and slowness, its music and its silent wonder. This movie seems to say to us .. every moment you choose to hold your gaze at life holds the promise of poetry. There is this sweet spot between a nameless calm and a nameless longing. It leaves you stranded there. It's a beautiful place I tell you.

Here is the poem Miu reads out in the end, and shes just learnt how to read.




The spring water,
nestled in a hole in a rock,
shimmers softly when disturbed.

The vibrations of the ground
have given birth to strong waves
which crash together in an irregular swell
on the surface,
without cresting.

If there's a verb meaning "to move harmoniously"
it must be used here.

The cherry trees,
gripped in shadows,
spread out and curl up,
sway and twist,
to the rhythm of the water.

But the interesting thing is that ..
however much they change,
they keep the shape of a cherry tree.




P.S: I might watch it again and will definitely check out the other movies by this director.

Held in the arms of your words

This is life
This is all I want from life
It's the fervour and the tenderness combined.
In the dark, in the ever-falling dark,
we are anchorless adrift but barely notice


from the song "held in the arms of your words" by "tired pony". don't know how it reads but it sounds just beautiful in the song.

Leaves Of Grass

One night
I split my cicada skin
devoured your leaves
knowing no poison,
no love nourishment
in that larval blindness,
a hunger finally true.

a poem from the movie "Leaves Of Grass" faithfully captured to the best of my hearing abilities. And this one is not by Walt Whitman.

and i also loved what follows the poem ..

Maybe what's true is in front of us, and we're moving toward it without even knowing it's there. Once you think you've got it all solved, what's left?