Hi, I'm a paper clip. I'm surprised you noticed me. No one does. I spend my days mostly stuck to this magnetic holder. Of course, occasionally I do travel from one desk to the other. Not a very eventful life, but I guess it's better than the long time I spent inside a paper box inside the stationery cabinet. At least I get to see the light of the day - rather the fluorescent light of the office space. Oh there comes the hand! I hope he picks me. A change of scenery would be really good now. Sigh! Next time I hope. Oh. The folder went into the desk. That was close. I've been through that once. Not the most pleasant experience! Day after day of darkness. What kills you most is the suspense - whether you'll ever get out, or spend the rest of your life locked up. You know, we paper clips do our work very diligently, but our use has been greatly reduced, thanks to these computers and word processing software. And as if that wasn't enough, I heard one of those software people had the nerve to use the image of a paper clip. They call it the office assistant and make it curl into different shapes and do tricks. Quite insensitive, if you ask me! And not representative at all! Hey, are you paying attention? Is that a laptop you're getting out? And I thought you cared! Just go away! I don't want to talk any more.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Bricolage
Earlier this year, I decided that I should pursue my love for writing a little more seriously. This resulted in me joining a Portland Community College course on writing. One of the techniques discussed in this course was Bricolage. The term is borrowed from the French word bricolage, from the verb bricoler, the core meaning in French being, "fiddle, tinker" and, by extension, "to make creative and resourceful use of whatever materials are at hand (regardless of their original purpose)". The following post was my assignment submission after the class. Hope you enjoy it.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Smell of Musk
The shrieks of a wailing child in her arms drowned the clatter of the bottles in the bathroom cabinet and the constant drip of the tap as Avani frantically searched for the antiseptic liquid. Rohan had hurt himself again-the kid was quite a handful. That's when she saw it again; that bottle of musk cologne that Adrish had once used. Finally spotting the antiseptic, she grabbed it and started dressing Rohan's wound.
An hour later, Rohan's wound had been taken care of, and Avani sat on the rocking chair with him in her lap while the radio churned out old songs. Now that everything was calm, she let her thoughts wander to the cologne, its dark green bottle with a silver cap. How she loved that smell. It was the reason she’d had met Adrish. Her eyes had just followed the scent that had wafted through the room and had been caught staring. Not that she minded, considering that it had led to the most incredible time of her life.
Adrish had been perfect. He was smart and charming as would've been expected of a young lieutenant in the Indian Army. Better still he was an honest and good person. It often amazed Avani that none of the romantic novels that she'd read concentrated on the niceness of a person. It was such a big turn-on.
She smiled as she remembered the incident that had left a small chip on the bottle and a bruise on his cheek. Just like Al Pacino in “The Godfather,” she had thought. She loved the way the house smelt of musk when Adrish was on vacation. It made her feel happy, and safe. The smell of musk was also the last memory she had of him, the smell that had lingered for hours after he had left.
Being an army wife had never been easy. Avani had never gotten used to the slight fear that gripped her every time the phone rang, the unease with which she watched the news every night. She had felt very uneasy when she heard about the border skirmishes. "Don't worry," everyone around had said, "we're not at war.” They had assured her that Adrish would be back safe and sound. But he hadn’t come back. Then they had told her that things would be alright . Time is a great healer, they said, and soon things would become normal.
Rohan had dozed off, and Avani placed him on the bed, careful not to wake him up. She walked up to the bathroom sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She was exhausted; exhausted by the heat, by the ordeal of Rohan's injury , but most of all by the hope that things would eventually become normal. A silent tear trickled down her cheek as she came to terms with the fact that things would never be the same again. Adrish had left behind a void that no one could fill.
Tomorrow she would think about the new normal. Tomorrow, she would think of how to get there. But not tonight, she thought. She opened the bottle of cologne, splashed some on, and let the smell of musk pervade her senses once again.
An hour later, Rohan's wound had been taken care of, and Avani sat on the rocking chair with him in her lap while the radio churned out old songs. Now that everything was calm, she let her thoughts wander to the cologne, its dark green bottle with a silver cap. How she loved that smell. It was the reason she’d had met Adrish. Her eyes had just followed the scent that had wafted through the room and had been caught staring. Not that she minded, considering that it had led to the most incredible time of her life.
Adrish had been perfect. He was smart and charming as would've been expected of a young lieutenant in the Indian Army. Better still he was an honest and good person. It often amazed Avani that none of the romantic novels that she'd read concentrated on the niceness of a person. It was such a big turn-on.
She smiled as she remembered the incident that had left a small chip on the bottle and a bruise on his cheek. Just like Al Pacino in “The Godfather,” she had thought. She loved the way the house smelt of musk when Adrish was on vacation. It made her feel happy, and safe. The smell of musk was also the last memory she had of him, the smell that had lingered for hours after he had left.
Being an army wife had never been easy. Avani had never gotten used to the slight fear that gripped her every time the phone rang, the unease with which she watched the news every night. She had felt very uneasy when she heard about the border skirmishes. "Don't worry," everyone around had said, "we're not at war.” They had assured her that Adrish would be back safe and sound. But he hadn’t come back. Then they had told her that things would be alright . Time is a great healer, they said, and soon things would become normal.
Rohan had dozed off, and Avani placed him on the bed, careful not to wake him up. She walked up to the bathroom sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She was exhausted; exhausted by the heat, by the ordeal of Rohan's injury , but most of all by the hope that things would eventually become normal. A silent tear trickled down her cheek as she came to terms with the fact that things would never be the same again. Adrish had left behind a void that no one could fill.
Tomorrow she would think about the new normal. Tomorrow, she would think of how to get there. But not tonight, she thought. She opened the bottle of cologne, splashed some on, and let the smell of musk pervade her senses once again.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Coming Back To Life
It's been long since I blogged. Almost two years! And I've missed it.. But it's been an eventful two years. I've exorcised the demons of the past and enjoyed life. And I have every reason to smile, and blog.
Don't get me wrong when I say that I am incorporating balance in my life. I still think that discipline makes things boring. Just that a pinch of balance can bring out the beauty of the random thoughts I've always had.
The retired part-zombie is just loving life now.
Don't get me wrong when I say that I am incorporating balance in my life. I still think that discipline makes things boring. Just that a pinch of balance can bring out the beauty of the random thoughts I've always had.
The retired part-zombie is just loving life now.
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