chroma thoughts...:)

May 30, 2014. Thrissur. Watched the movie “ Bangalore Days ” FDFS, as decided earlier. Loved the movie. It’s a clean entertainer. Its not about the movie that I’m writing now. But then, it is about Cinema only. It was very much crowded by the ticket counter and there was an air of excitement around as it was a much hyped movie due to the wonderful star cast and also for the much acclaimed Director, Producer and Cinematographer. As I was going to collect my reservation tickets, I noticed someone standing in the queue. He would have been around seventy years of age, and was wearing a shabby shirt and a dhoti. He had a pale face and grey hair. This old man was struggling hard not to lose his place in the queue, in the midst of all the young people around. One could easily make out that he wasn't that affluent. And that sight set me thinking. “How come an old man generate such an interest in a youth oriented movie?” The lead actors, the director, the producer, the cin

“ It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.”   -  Mother Theresa Recently, a friend of mine narrated to me, an incident that filled my heart with joy. It is certain moments like these that take us a long way forward in life. From her own words: " Last day,I hadn't had anything to eat because of exams, and so we walked a lot in the evening to go this cheap place. It was more like a typical market street. As we watched, this really cute looking old man with a bright orange turban in a long kurta walked to a shop just next to our eatery. As we watched, we realized that a 10yr old boy had brought him along to this place, and was pointing at an expensive ball. his granpa tried to make a joke out of the display, which really annoyed the kid, and he walked off crying. You had to see that sullen face in that elderly man, Ashik! So, as we looked at the man, we realized that both he and the boy were begging for money in the streets. That was a s

This is the first time I'm writing a description on a poem of mine. Not just as a blog post, but the first time ever. This is about how the poem was born or rather, how it appeared before me. The Wanderer . A strange idea occurred to me  during a boring lecture, from a state of pointlessness.  And within 2 minutes of getting a vague idea, this piece was completed. Yes; there was a sort of pointlessness in the air, which was the inspiration. As I said, it was a boring lecture, and i wasn't listening to it. I was just staring at the lecturer, wondering how he could go on with such a boring class. The topic that was being covered was better to be studied alone by oneself. He was taking his maximum efforts, but that actually wasn't required and it wasn't doing any good to the class. And hence, a state of pointlessness. It was when my mind was wandering, thinking about all these matters that a friend asked me whether I was listening. He too wasn't listening t