Making books, music plugged into my ear drums drowns out the reality of it. Thinking of the squirrels in the park today afternoon... chewing on sweet vermilion flowers and left over crumbs in between. Somehow, the same , me and them.
Afraid to sit still for a moment, have to keep fidgeting, lest a predator come and take out our warm little lives.
Books that talk about .. one - the delhi durbar - how when the foreign king and queen wanted to exhibit their power over our land, they borrowed our own traditions of a grand coronation and large acres of land were cleared for this purpose... an excerpt from the book; " when farmers were found continuing to work in fields even a month after the official gazette notification, the assistant quarter master of the Coronation Durbar committee demanded that strict instructions be made 'prohibiting ploughing'.... Resentment if any was not recorded".
Another book is about Formula one racing coming to India, pictures of celebrities posing around race cars, fat expensive wallets and scantily clad women in hand grace the pages. The race track for this was built on farm land must have been ploughed perhaps a few months back....I have been reading the gazette... resentment if any has not been recorded.
Listening to Indian Ocean... the Indian rock band that blends Indian folk songs into a western beat... the veena merges with western percussion... songs that come from the heart and soul of a country crying for what once was.. but now mere nostalgia... songs... and books that make you want to cry.