Darshan
by:Irene Black
Alone, we two
travel dust-layered
along the unfamiliar road.
How long?
An hour maybe, a day? Who knows, who cares?
Visions of temples, dark, inscrutable,
flicker and fade away,
time-shimmered into obscurity.
Here is no town, no habitation,
only the silent calm of reapers in distant fields,
and the lame bucking of black, bristled swine,
pincered by the thorny talons
of satin-suited crows.
Two grizzled buffalo, horns
resting like folded wings
graze in a grass-damp ditch;
while on a tarmac-flattened patch of road
a woman in a purple sari
sifts golden ragi, newly-threshed
beneath unwitting tyres.
At last the fields lie bare; their honey spilled.
Air flecked with powdered gold;
with slow applauding hoof beats and protesting squeals
of wooden cartwheels passing close;
with the sweet breath of karma-laden oxen
bearing the harvest home.
The undiscovered gods wait in the temple.
Let them stay hidden in dark places.
Clothed in golden glances
we two are divine
*Just a poem I found online that I happened to like
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Ok so I know this isn't going to happen for at least five years but I think I want to go to Mackinac island for my honeymoon. I went there when I was younger, motorized vehicals aren't allowed and it's only an 8 mile walk around the whole island or something tiny like that. It's amazing! There's fudge on every block, cute hotels, horses and bikes. The perfect place to get away and really do whatever you want! Or I'll just go somewhere exotic but if I end up staying the United States for the occasion, Mackinac it is :)
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Busy Busy Busy Fun
Last week was:
Idealist Grad Fair
The 39 Steps
Webster Hall
Up!
This week is:
The Hangover
Staten Island Yankees
Iran Rally
Transformers
Pride Parade with HRF
Idealist Grad Fair
The 39 Steps
Webster Hall
Up!
This week is:
The Hangover
Staten Island Yankees
Iran Rally
Transformers
Pride Parade with HRF
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Something Important
I feel like I've lost it. No, I don't mean my mind. Just...something. Something important. I'm not as into this summer as I thought I would be. I'm pretty happy and I still really like the city. HRF is fine and my classes are good, I really like Tom Parker who teaches my class about terrorism but I kind of feel like I'm waiting for senior year. Like this is all just something to pass the time until September. And at the same time, the thought of senior year kind of terrifies me. I like to know what I'm doing and what's next to a certain extent and after graduation...well it's all wide open. I know that's amazing and exciting but it also really worries me.
It's not even about graduation though, I'm also trying to figure out what I should do for Senior Project, how I'm going to go about writing my novella and get good grades and necessary credits and survive my social life. From what I've heard everyone goes insane senior year and I just hope my friends and I survive heh.
Oh well, in the meantime I guess I'll just look forward to the little things.
It's not even about graduation though, I'm also trying to figure out what I should do for Senior Project, how I'm going to go about writing my novella and get good grades and necessary credits and survive my social life. From what I've heard everyone goes insane senior year and I just hope my friends and I survive heh.
Oh well, in the meantime I guess I'll just look forward to the little things.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Rishikesh/Musoorie
There's a giant Shiva carved in stone sitting on the water. The chanting is loud and deep, young monks sit in maroon and gold. I'm warmed by the feeling of it all, spirit, mind, body. The sunset glows orange to blue and the stone is cool beneath my bare feet. I wrap tiny sandlewood around my wrist and ask him to close it. Hands are light as they connect the clasp. Stray dogs sit calmly nearby next to empty chai cups and half eaten newspaper. Cows seem to surround the constantly moving crowds. Masala papaad is too spicy but fried is greasy and delicious. Mornings are cold and the phone is loud when it rings. "sleeping time." I hang up but feel restless. The winding roads scare my mother. I find them thrilling. If he loses control of the wheel we could die but instead we just speed around corners and the wind blows back my hair. We stop at the river and I collect a few stones. The water is icy cold and I slip on the moss covered stones. The rapids are shallow but fast and in some places the water is a clear deep blue. The rock in my hand sparkles as it dries in the heat. I have sand between my toes and my mom takes a picture as i sit wiping away the grains before putting my socks and shoes back on. The music is loud as I get back in the car. The wind is cool against my face and my mind goes silent as I listen to the lyrics and watch the mountains blur.
There's a giant Shiva carved in stone sitting on the water. The chanting is loud and deep, young monks sit in maroon and gold. I'm warmed by the feeling of it all, spirit, mind, body. The sunset glows orange to blue and the stone is cool beneath my bare feet. I wrap tiny sandlewood around my wrist and ask him to close it. Hands are light as they connect the clasp. Stray dogs sit calmly nearby next to empty chai cups and half eaten newspaper. Cows seem to surround the constantly moving crowds. Masala papaad is too spicy but fried is greasy and delicious. Mornings are cold and the phone is loud when it rings. "sleeping time." I hang up but feel restless. The winding roads scare my mother. I find them thrilling. If he loses control of the wheel we could die but instead we just speed around corners and the wind blows back my hair. We stop at the river and I collect a few stones. The water is icy cold and I slip on the moss covered stones. The rapids are shallow but fast and in some places the water is a clear deep blue. The rock in my hand sparkles as it dries in the heat. I have sand between my toes and my mom takes a picture as i sit wiping away the grains before putting my socks and shoes back on. The music is loud as I get back in the car. The wind is cool against my face and my mind goes silent as I listen to the lyrics and watch the mountains blur.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)