Lady, and I don't mean lady in the patronizing, 21st century sense but in the sense that you aren't just a female somebody, but a distinct woman of presence, I'm sorry. I am sorry you bore your soul to the world from a place as unsympathetic and stagnant as the DMV. I am sorry to be an incidental eavesdropper onto your troubles, troubles that you may or may not deserve. I don't even know you. But I felt bad.
She asked you a question. A personal one. You stuttered, and then you were confident in your answer. At least, the romantic in me remembers you stuttering.
There were lines of people. Lines of stories and troubles and hopes and reminders of both the day's banality and life's vivacity. Oh, what a place.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Eleanor Rigby and Japan Day 1
I really like this song, which I've only just discovered, though it's been around for at least 40 years. It doesn't even sound old, which I guess it isn't in terms of how old culture can be. But, in spite of the short time I've been alive, the sentiment expressed by Sirs McCartney and Co. seems timeless.
"Eleanor Rigby died in a church and was buried along with her name."
This seems the saddest thing in the world. To live alone and then die alone, forever buried, forever forgotten. And yet that is the way most of us will go. I was talking about it with my father, and when I expressed how inimitably sad it seemed to be buried along with your name, he expressed that it happened to most everybody. When he grew up in Bangladesh, many people would visit their parents' graves many times a year, especially around Eid. Here in America it's different; many visit only every few years, if that much.
I saw the truth when he described it this way: A man dies, and maybe his children who loved their father will visit his grave sometimes, keep his memory alive. But their children? Maybe they'll tag along, they'll listen to the stories, just maybe they, too, will visit and his name will be remembered. But their children, and theirs? Soon the location of the grave would be forgotten, the name buried beneath many records of the more recently beloved and deceased. And he, too, would be left at the mercy of time.
There is then the philosophical dilemma:
We all die alone, said Orson Welles. Until now, I had thought that was all there was to that famous quote. And how I disagreed. Of course, when one dies, the ones you love don't go with you. But to have them at your side, have their love and company surround and embody you, surely this means something when one's time comes. And so I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered the entire quote.
"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."
If you work at it enough, can the illusion not become the truth?
Ok. Cue 180 degree spin.
Alright. Now that we've done that, I can totally alter the mood of this post from pensive precocity to wholesome pictorial fun! I now present some photos, from vacations, road trips, school, and of course the inevitably totally-random-I-don't-really-even-know's.
Here are gas prices less than a year ago: November 28, 2008. They were lower before the election....hmm....do I hint at conspiracy? Right at this moment the national average is $2.62 and where I live it's $2.88 at its lowest for Regular....
Next are some long-awaited pictures from our trip to Japan!!
1. The inevitable Engrish. Oh the love. We had just arrived in the airport. Narita, I think?
4. Ever wondered what the streets of a Japanese city look like? Well, here you are.
5. And here. Tokyo in the early morning.
"Eleanor Rigby died in a church and was buried along with her name."
This seems the saddest thing in the world. To live alone and then die alone, forever buried, forever forgotten. And yet that is the way most of us will go. I was talking about it with my father, and when I expressed how inimitably sad it seemed to be buried along with your name, he expressed that it happened to most everybody. When he grew up in Bangladesh, many people would visit their parents' graves many times a year, especially around Eid. Here in America it's different; many visit only every few years, if that much.
I saw the truth when he described it this way: A man dies, and maybe his children who loved their father will visit his grave sometimes, keep his memory alive. But their children? Maybe they'll tag along, they'll listen to the stories, just maybe they, too, will visit and his name will be remembered. But their children, and theirs? Soon the location of the grave would be forgotten, the name buried beneath many records of the more recently beloved and deceased. And he, too, would be left at the mercy of time.
There is then the philosophical dilemma:
We all die alone, said Orson Welles. Until now, I had thought that was all there was to that famous quote. And how I disagreed. Of course, when one dies, the ones you love don't go with you. But to have them at your side, have their love and company surround and embody you, surely this means something when one's time comes. And so I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered the entire quote.
"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."
If you work at it enough, can the illusion not become the truth?
Ok. Cue 180 degree spin.
Alright. Now that we've done that, I can totally alter the mood of this post from pensive precocity to wholesome pictorial fun! I now present some photos, from vacations, road trips, school, and of course the inevitably totally-random-I-don't-really-even-know's.
Here are gas prices less than a year ago: November 28, 2008. They were lower before the election....hmm....do I hint at conspiracy? Right at this moment the national average is $2.62 and where I live it's $2.88 at its lowest for Regular....
Next are some long-awaited pictures from our trip to Japan!!
1. The inevitable Engrish. Oh the love. We had just arrived in the airport. Narita, I think?
2. Our first meal! Fish, of course. And the mandatory miso and rice. Which is gohan in Japanese, bhaath in Bengali and bhap in Korean.
What, no picture? Ok, on the next post. I know it's somewhere...
3. Our first morning! It was a bit cloudy, but oh well. We were just in time for the beautiful, famed sakura blossoms! Here I am in all my striped glory.4. Ever wondered what the streets of a Japanese city look like? Well, here you are.
5. And here. Tokyo in the early morning.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Life's Little Victories
I saw this series in Keith Knight's comic about little real-life moments that just were personal victories, so I'll try a series of my own and see how it works.
#1 I won a scholarship today and only found out at the award ceremony we were having at school for a different scholarship I won (surprise!). Pretty cool.
#2 I was driving in the car with my parents and I told my mom I wanted some nice, really rich black eyeliner because we've run out. My dad was like, "What do you need that stuff for? You look fine...", and starts gesturing towards eyelashes. My mom understands before I do and promptly starts to laugh. "That's mascara! She's talking about eyeliner, kajol (kohl in english)!" My dad pauses for a second. "Oh. That's ok." I started to laugh...on top of getting eyeliner confused with mascara he thought eyeliner was totally ok because in our culture kajol is very commonly worn by girls and women for beauty (South Asian culture started the eyeliner trend, after all, if I'm not mistaken).
#3 Ok, this was really yesterday, but I went to a group job interview, and I got hired!!! Since I'm going to college locally that means I can still stay in touch with my old school district and it also means I have a job going into college! To top it all, they even try to work around your class schedule with you so the two don't interfere. Pretty sweet deal.
#4 We meditated today in AP Psychology. Ms. Barker-Ball came in and we just all lied on the ground and closed our eyes as she started some meditation/relaxation techniques. I would say it worked--it was really nice; I forgot about all my problems and I was less stressed walking out of the classroom.
#5 For the first like twenty minutes of AP Physics we just sat outside on the ground and watched the thunderstorm that was a few miles away! We "analyzed" the atmospheric physics of it but really it was something you'd only see in California: A class awed by a thunderstorm and sitting outside, watching it, whole rows of teenagers in their flip flops and tank tops going "OOOOOHHHH" every time there was a flash of lightning. Awesome.
#6 I took photos of some friends and close acquaintances with my Pentax black-and-white mechanical camera from the 70s...I finished up my last roll of film.
That's it for now, but it is refreshing to reflect on the positive things in my life rather than complain.
#1 I won a scholarship today and only found out at the award ceremony we were having at school for a different scholarship I won (surprise!). Pretty cool.
#2 I was driving in the car with my parents and I told my mom I wanted some nice, really rich black eyeliner because we've run out. My dad was like, "What do you need that stuff for? You look fine...", and starts gesturing towards eyelashes. My mom understands before I do and promptly starts to laugh. "That's mascara! She's talking about eyeliner, kajol (kohl in english)!" My dad pauses for a second. "Oh. That's ok." I started to laugh...on top of getting eyeliner confused with mascara he thought eyeliner was totally ok because in our culture kajol is very commonly worn by girls and women for beauty (South Asian culture started the eyeliner trend, after all, if I'm not mistaken).
#3 Ok, this was really yesterday, but I went to a group job interview, and I got hired!!! Since I'm going to college locally that means I can still stay in touch with my old school district and it also means I have a job going into college! To top it all, they even try to work around your class schedule with you so the two don't interfere. Pretty sweet deal.
#4 We meditated today in AP Psychology. Ms. Barker-Ball came in and we just all lied on the ground and closed our eyes as she started some meditation/relaxation techniques. I would say it worked--it was really nice; I forgot about all my problems and I was less stressed walking out of the classroom.
#5 For the first like twenty minutes of AP Physics we just sat outside on the ground and watched the thunderstorm that was a few miles away! We "analyzed" the atmospheric physics of it but really it was something you'd only see in California: A class awed by a thunderstorm and sitting outside, watching it, whole rows of teenagers in their flip flops and tank tops going "OOOOOHHHH" every time there was a flash of lightning. Awesome.
#6 I took photos of some friends and close acquaintances with my Pentax black-and-white mechanical camera from the 70s...I finished up my last roll of film.
That's it for now, but it is refreshing to reflect on the positive things in my life rather than complain.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Gyre's Eyes, Sidonie's Gown
The world seemed to drown before his eyes as he wept for the last time in his life. A storm clouded the usually tranquil blue of his eyes and he felt a stirring in his chest. It wasn't quite painful, but it was uncomfortable. He supposed this was what a heart should feel like, but he couldn't really know.
*****
Pearls dotted the gold of the dress like a thousand flowers that had sheathed themselves in sunshine. He blinked once as she stepped out, the spring's first pale blooms woven into her hair and falling in curves against her golden neck. In silence she slipped out of shadow and it was as if the sun itself had stepped down to become his bride, if only until nighttime when the cold stars blinked themselves into being, and robbed him of any promise of love. But no, this unrecognizable girl was incapable of guile. There could be no deceit sewn into the soft, rich folds of pale gold that encompassed her in swathes of sunlight as she walked towards him, her eyes downcast in the last hours of twilight, whose color they bore.
*****
Pearls dotted the gold of the dress like a thousand flowers that had sheathed themselves in sunshine. He blinked once as she stepped out, the spring's first pale blooms woven into her hair and falling in curves against her golden neck. In silence she slipped out of shadow and it was as if the sun itself had stepped down to become his bride, if only until nighttime when the cold stars blinked themselves into being, and robbed him of any promise of love. But no, this unrecognizable girl was incapable of guile. There could be no deceit sewn into the soft, rich folds of pale gold that encompassed her in swathes of sunlight as she walked towards him, her eyes downcast in the last hours of twilight, whose color they bore.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
What if…Dinner With a Bunch of Brits
Your possible enjoyment of the following dialogue will be enhanced a thousand fold if you are actually familiar with the works, styles and historical contexts of the authors.
CHARACTERS:
William Shakespeare, Elizabethan poet
Oscar Wilde, Aestheticist author
Jane Austen, Romantic novelista
Salman Rushdie, Man on the run/Anglo-Pakistani writer of fiction
SCENE: Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde head down to a posh English restaurant for a spot o’ good eats. They then fall into the following conversation about time.
SHAKESPEARE: What thinkest thou of time, goodfellow Wilde? I find her a tyrant, and a robber as well.
WILDE: My good man, I can sympathize with your view, certainly. Time strips the most beautiful maiden of her youth and glory, and turns dreams to dust. And yet, it is comforting as well.
SHAKESPEARE: How can time invoke comfort? Methinks it just the opposite. Time puts jowls in my jaw, creates aches where once there were none. Time is death’s own cohort.
WILDE: Exactly my point. And isn’t death the great equalizer? Time shall have us all, and it is out of vanity and in vain that any maid or youth should seek otherwise.
At this point the duo is joined by a third countryman…or woman. Jane Austen takes the seat that Wilde pulls out for her, and the conversation resumes hence.
AUSTEN: I can’t say that I find time such a terrible thing to bear, as long as one does not bear it alone.
SHAKESPEARE: Solitude is, indeed, time’s most wicked conspirator. But if thou art so lucky as to evade the one, then time dost appear invisible.
Wilde: Love, then is the only true escape from time?
While the question hangs in the air, the company of authors is joined by their final dinner mate at last. Salman Rushdie takes a seat, slightly out of breath from running for nearly a decade, and they continue.
RUSHDIE: Love, even if it’s true, might weave a dazzling spell round the heart of a man, but even these enchantments fall prey to time at last. Even lovers aren’t safe from death. In fact, I would think they suffer even harder for it, and then find some less noble thing to fill the void that their deceased lover once filled.
AUSTEN: This is the way of the world, then. But in the memory of love, lovers can find comfort, and in its fruits they will have their lovers yet.
SHAKESPEARE: Thou speakest well, fair friend! Not even time can defeat progeny’s power.
WILDE: But time can turn love sour, and children grow fickle.
RUSHDIE: What a point, Wilde. The clock’s steady hand will erode every mask, and—a lover’s falseness, a child’s selfish will and lusty greed—prove all these things.
WILDE: In time. [laughs]
AUSTEN: Goodness, what an attitude to take.
SHAKESPEARE: Hast thou found thyself exposed to a mistress’ fickle ways?
RUSHDIE: Perhaps. But that’s a story for another day.
CHARACTERS:
William Shakespeare, Elizabethan poet
Oscar Wilde, Aestheticist author
Jane Austen, Romantic novelista
Salman Rushdie, Man on the run/Anglo-Pakistani writer of fiction
SCENE: Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde head down to a posh English restaurant for a spot o’ good eats. They then fall into the following conversation about time.
SHAKESPEARE: What thinkest thou of time, goodfellow Wilde? I find her a tyrant, and a robber as well.
WILDE: My good man, I can sympathize with your view, certainly. Time strips the most beautiful maiden of her youth and glory, and turns dreams to dust. And yet, it is comforting as well.
SHAKESPEARE: How can time invoke comfort? Methinks it just the opposite. Time puts jowls in my jaw, creates aches where once there were none. Time is death’s own cohort.
WILDE: Exactly my point. And isn’t death the great equalizer? Time shall have us all, and it is out of vanity and in vain that any maid or youth should seek otherwise.
At this point the duo is joined by a third countryman…or woman. Jane Austen takes the seat that Wilde pulls out for her, and the conversation resumes hence.
AUSTEN: I can’t say that I find time such a terrible thing to bear, as long as one does not bear it alone.
SHAKESPEARE: Solitude is, indeed, time’s most wicked conspirator. But if thou art so lucky as to evade the one, then time dost appear invisible.
Wilde: Love, then is the only true escape from time?
While the question hangs in the air, the company of authors is joined by their final dinner mate at last. Salman Rushdie takes a seat, slightly out of breath from running for nearly a decade, and they continue.
RUSHDIE: Love, even if it’s true, might weave a dazzling spell round the heart of a man, but even these enchantments fall prey to time at last. Even lovers aren’t safe from death. In fact, I would think they suffer even harder for it, and then find some less noble thing to fill the void that their deceased lover once filled.
AUSTEN: This is the way of the world, then. But in the memory of love, lovers can find comfort, and in its fruits they will have their lovers yet.
SHAKESPEARE: Thou speakest well, fair friend! Not even time can defeat progeny’s power.
WILDE: But time can turn love sour, and children grow fickle.
RUSHDIE: What a point, Wilde. The clock’s steady hand will erode every mask, and—a lover’s falseness, a child’s selfish will and lusty greed—prove all these things.
WILDE: In time. [laughs]
AUSTEN: Goodness, what an attitude to take.
SHAKESPEARE: Hast thou found thyself exposed to a mistress’ fickle ways?
RUSHDIE: Perhaps. But that’s a story for another day.
Friday, April 24, 2009
The Not-So-Fictional Subject
Before another person thinks to scrap it up, wrinkle it, tear it and throw it away from my life altogether, I'll put it up where nobody and nothing but changing times and technology can touch it. Which is almost more frightening than an actual peson, but more removed from the present and thus less disturbing on the surface. I digress.
Brews up milk on an overcast day
The cogs of that immaculate machine-his mind-
tell him of immortality of living another way.
Wears tattered but neat decaged shirts-pressed,
inspiring mum to gift shop, more or less.
This lifestyle the meeting of only half an hour
Will be enought to imagine his own hermit's tower
Hikers swasddled in warmth will climb a maybe mountain
Asking at the top what has he found in
[l.f. his too short] years, to be the meaning of life?
[l.f. ... ] a brilliant baritone Idunno will be the reply.
--Sometime in July, sometime in London, 2007
Not so much my standard poetry, rather the musings of the moment after meeting him for the first time.
Japan stuff is coming soon.
Brews up milk on an overcast day
The cogs of that immaculate machine-his mind-
tell him of immortality of living another way.
Wears tattered but neat decaged shirts-pressed,
inspiring mum to gift shop, more or less.
This lifestyle the meeting of only half an hour
Will be enought to imagine his own hermit's tower
Hikers swasddled in warmth will climb a maybe mountain
Asking at the top what has he found in
[l.f. his too short] years, to be the meaning of life?
[l.f. ... ] a brilliant baritone Idunno will be the reply.
--Sometime in July, sometime in London, 2007
Not so much my standard poetry, rather the musings of the moment after meeting him for the first time.
Japan stuff is coming soon.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Countdown-3 Days More...
Till JAPAN! (Nippon!)
Theda Barra style is good.
Sooo excited. Beyond belief. Kida and I have been exchanging one plan after another. We just talked about this all-you-can-eat DESSERT BUFFET (aaah!) in Ginza (Tokyo).
It's called Sweets Paradise 90 Min. You get-you guessed it-ninety minutes for like 1500 yen to eat all you can! There are cakes galore...the pictures are crazy enough that I want to be there. I'm a little concerned as to when we'll have time. I was initally doubtful about going, but after reading more (http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Japan/Kyoto/Kyoto/blog-261422.html) I'm sold.
There are literally lines and lines of cakes, pastries and other various sweets, not to mention ice cream. Of course, Kida wants to hit plenty of other sweets places, such as SweetBox (http://www.crepes.jp/). I want to try bento, okonomiyaki and any and all street food (especially kushiage, an Osaka specialty, which is basically like all the shish-kebab you could dream of, deep fried).
So yeah, food is obviously a big priority on our trip. But so is the sight-seeing (first priority) and of course just experiencing culture...food is culture...
I also plan to see some Geisha if I can in the historic districts (Kyoto's more famous for them, but Tokyo has them too behind Asakusa temple), go to 100 yen shops (like 99 cents....'cept better....), do plenty of shopping in general (don't know if it's a reality, but I sure as anything am going to TRY), go to at least one big department store, and buy beautiful hair ornaments (combs, pins, etc).
No pictures yet, but there will be once I get back, since photography is also a HUGE priority for me on this trip. And video, with the beauteous SDR-H40 videocamera Baba got me...thank you, Baba!!!
Speaking of photo, I'm going on an awesome field trip downtown tomorrow. So many gardens, museums, and overall beautiful places. I get to be with Angie the whole time, and be shooting photos the whole time! And miss school. Talk about fun. :)
For my fashion shoot, I'm considering doing a 1920s style shoot, with pale model, done up hair, super dark vamp-y lips, cloche hat and gorgeous long, draped, sinewy dress. I have a model in mind. Need to check the time period with Harris, and I really need to decide whether I don't want to do a more recent, cutting-edge style of fashion photography.
Bottom Left: Constance Bennett
Theda Barra style is good.
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