All entries for October 2006

October 04, 2006

Bonzi the Bonsai

bonzi2

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the perfect, the sublime, the extremely beautiful and magical… Bonzi the Bonzaiiiiiii!!!!!!!!! He was there, waiting for me, serene and patient, under the scorching sun of the Piazza, among so many others of his unperfect brothers… I looked and looked, but when I saw Bonzi, it was love at first sight. His perfection shone to me from afar, and when I held it for the first time in my arms it was like holding a baby. People were staring at it with envy, whispering at each other how perfect Bonzi was. A chinese girl cam up to me and asked me where I got it, and she told me that I was holding a ‘money plant’. So be it, money plant or not, Bonzi is my new baby.
Bonzi is my very first house plant, having a house plant was Amrish’s idea, I really needed good vibes in that room of mine. It’s been here one day, but whenever I look at Bonzi, I see the thickness of a forest, the peacefulness of a japanese garden, the age and wisdom of an old grandfather, the beauty of nature… I can go on and on like that. I put Bonzi on my windowsill, so that he can oversee the whole room and the outside view at the same time. He can thus breathe and say hello to some sunrays, as rare as they are in Coventry at this time. I have to water him every day, and prune him twice every year. He’s already 5 years old, he is strong, and stands proud and his branches are oh so perfect. Bonzi and I are going to be good friends. I am going to look after him really well, and he can look after me as well. As I said earlier, it is really good to have someone as old and wise as Bonzi the bonsai around in this mad, crazy world of supposedly independence at uni. I love you Bonzi!


Imogen Heap

I’m just back from the Imogen Heap concert at the Art Centre. It was so amaing, especially when we didnt expect it to be. First of all we were late and couldnt be bothered to dress up or anything, we just turned up in lecture clothes after a rushed dinner. An art centre concert was a first experience to me, so I didnt know what to expect. I only knew 3 imogen heap songs: say goodnight and go, aeroplane, and the oh so famous hide and seek from the OC finale, and i really liked all of them, but that was it. Imogen introduced herself, she was wearing a big white hat with a feather in it. A guy from Leicester who had won the myspace competition played a few songs first, then a band called Nemo from London played as well. There was a transparent glass piano on the stage. The whole set was decorated in a fantasy, ethereal, fairy like way, with changing colour branching lightbulbs in the piano, lighted bushes, and more candles. Imogen came from the back of the room for her set, she was dressed in a (quite ugly) dress, with her hair pulled up and feathers branching out. She looked like an elf, that was the effect wanted i guess. She’s got an amazing voice, not the kind of voice you’d expect a normal person to have, but just like the decor, other-worldly. She demonstrated how her equipment worked, like for example she records beats and play them along through the whole song. She played for a good 2 hours and the time just flew by. The room wasnt full, but the audience was enthusiastic. I had really good seats, less than 10 rows away from the stage, and that too near the centre! I experienced all the light effects, and the art centre sound system is just about perfect. In all, really other-worldly. I was entranced, these moments make me want to write again. I wasnt that impressed with most of her lyrics, but her voice and the beat made the whole thing sound really good. I wouldnt say her style was indie, or anything like that, it’s very particular because of her voice. And then she played hide and seek. The song was already entrancing, from that moment in the OC which had everybody trembling. But that song… She played it alone, and it was even better in live. I was sitting on the edge of my seat and trying to live every second of that moment.

where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just begun to form
crop circles in the carpet
sinking, feeling

spin me ‘round again
and rub my eyes,
this can’t be happening
when busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy

oily marks appear on walls
where pleasure moments hung before the take over,
the sweeping insensitivity of this still life
hide and seek
trains and sewing machines (you won’t catch me around here)
blood and tears
they were here first

It was just magical… S managed to make a video of that too. I really enjoyed the show tonight, more than many nights going out. It was just different, and very, very beautiful


October 03, 2006

Pimp

Having a blog is a bit like being a pimp. Selling your soul in cyber space infinity. Looking to strike chords in people’s minds, looking for understanding, for contact, for connection. Expressing, voicing out, whatever you call it, it’s still selling. I’ll give you a piece of my soul if you give me a bit of attention. In the end, in this big world of cyber space with so many people, the only thing I can without doubt conclude is that we are all so lonely… The quest for that kindred spirit, the quest of a lifetime.


Escape

This one is much more personal. There will be no synthesis for this one for I to improve it is to spoil it. I remember writing that piece very well, it came out of the blue, but I can still pinpoint the influences: Lain- Close this world open the the next, Anne of the Green Gables, Creed- With arms wide open, Coldplay – Yellow, Marilyn Manson – Angel with the Scabbed wings, Goo Goo Dolls – Iris, among other things… This is my favourite piece of all the writing i’ve ever done.

(as it appeared)

FLIGHT OF FANCY
Where the brook turns into a pond, the sunlight makes the water turn golden and the little fish swimming by are surrounded by a halo of light. There was something unreal about this place, being there after a day in school was like stepping into a whole different world, a place where the word peace was written in a flowery handwriting on every leaf and petal. Inspiration was like the flow of the water, clear and mysterious, and Iris was used to it finding its way into her mind and it was in this way that the magic was brought on the pristine white sheets of paper she brought there. Fantasy had a whole different meaning in this pretty world.
Iris sighed and put down her pen. Life was so much easier in her stories, so much simpler. She drew a circle around her face in the water, sending ripples shivering through the picture reflected. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to be that girl in the water, frozen in a pose of bliss, forever happy and carefree. Sometimes she wished she could drown herself in her reverie and stay entrapped in her world of fantasy.
A breeze passed by, tickling her skin, a bubble of laughter escaped her lips. It hurt her face when she laughed however, so she stopped and gently ran the tips of her fingers over the bruises, it would take more time for them to heal. She had grown to like her bruises; they were part of her now, like creases are part of an orchid crushed under the tires of a car… When the scabs fall, they reveal a better skin.
A new variety of flowers had started to grow on the banks of the brook; they smelled like baby’s breath. They bowed towards the water, trying hard to catch a glimpse of what they looked like but never really succeeding. A yellow butterfly fluttered by Iris’s head, then changed its mind and flew away. The sun had begun to set slowly, soaking the woods in a reddish glow. It would be dark soon.
Iris knelt besides her friend the brook and leaned as far as possible over the water and kissed the girl reflected down there. Her loose ponytail became undone and her hair flew forward to hide her face like a golden curtain. She gathered her things and stood up, locking the moment away in a secret place.
A single tear fell on the pages; the book was closed and put back on the shelf.


October 02, 2006

Prototype

I am the perfect prototype of Robinson Crusoe. Only, it is not on a deserted island I learnt to survive, but in a deserted house. By house I mean the two figures that are supposed to emanate everything from protection, model, guide, help, friend, teacher, otherwise called parents. A house is supposed to be the very first school of the child, the primary social cell, from which the child is supposed to be taught everything about life and about how to be ‘a good citizen’ (social studies textbook). So, at the young age of 10 I was condemned to a life of self-survival in society. I self-educated myself as best as I could. My academic education was everything normal, I learnt maths and languages. But other than that, I read lots of books, watched TV and then I discovered Music and Religion. Everything that offered some path to follow was welcome. At 21 I can sum up my self-education in these few streams that have mattered in some way or another: Nirvana and the whole mainstream alternative rock influence, Hare Krsna and the Bhagavad Gita, Mr Malloo, Mrs Punchoo, my best friend at 17, Bernard Werber, the internet, Sister Niti, 1132, everything I could absorb from the girls at school (which my intellect judged ‘right’), Anne of the green gables… There were others, but these are the main ones. And now I can see the Crusoe effect, the aftermath: differences I can pinpoint from my self-education to those of others that were ‘pruned’ by 2 lovely, loving parents. The main one is pure self-confidence. The problem with me is that, when I see I lack something as compared to my colleagues, say for example something as random as the fact that I don’t wax my arms, or something deeper like I dont socialize very well, this causes a pattern of thoughts inside my head that is not necessarily how everybody else would have interpreted it. 1. I see something wrong with myself 2. Ok, so we have to change it 3. Ok, so let’s try changing it 4. Ok, so it’s changed. When I was younger for example, I was so much into Anne of the Green Gables, that I decided to let my imagination flow freely too and invent short stories inside my head to keep me company when I feel lonely. And now, this has become something I do all the time, since then. Something like an artificial, manmade me. Such that at this point, I don’t really know where the boundary between the real me and the self-educated, ‘invented’ me really is… Like Crusoe maybe didnt know where his planted berry bushes end and those of the forest begin. Ok, crap example, if the berries grew in the forest, why would he plant them? I dont care, I am Crusoe nonetheless, self-educated, on my tamed island, standing straight, dealing with the everchanging weather as best as i can. At least I am still alive and as healthy as you can get in these circumstances…


This blog

This blog is just a mirror of my other, original blog – Stoned Roses ‘Kingdom of Relativity’, http://ashwina.spaces.live.com/ which is the more personal, restricted (sometimes) side of me. I’ve signed up for a warwick one just because it seemed like a more interactive platform, and that would be an interesting experience for an avid blogger like me. So here goes…


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