your eyes have their silence

I've always been afraid
of bringing things I create with my hands
into a digital world. I was afraid that maybe somewhere between the
blinking screen and the ink on my fingers
something would be lost. like the silver key you kept in your coat pocket.

blue lines that only some light can percieve.
I've decided to trust electrons zipping through invisible space
with my soul stretched out in inks

And scan pages off my notebook. for a million mirrors to see.
and open me.

"we can create kingdoms of our own
grand purple thrones
those chairs of lust
and love we must
on beds of rust"

Red Like Apple.

Photograph of me by lovely Preanca Daga. :)

Red.
hundreds of broken red flowers on the floor. Red bangles on the goddess' wrists Incense. Smoke.

Red like Fire. Red like love. Like Anger. Like hate. Like sex.
Red like earth.
Red like apple.
like temptation. like roses. like desire. like destruction. like sun. Red like lust. Like Cherries.
Like Wine. Like touch.
there was red sindoor on the floor, on our foreheads, on our fingers.

Butterflies and Hurricanes

'I fell in love with a butterfly once.'

I held her in my arms.

'I want you for dreaming
not for love'

me beaootiful mother.
she now has a blog that I maintain.
go fishity :)
Nilofer Suleman

Tired heart

Summer sinks its teeth into our flesh.
I can't go on.these trains move too fast. Like snakes on railwaytrackladders.
Seeing you.Your eyes pierce through my flesh like swords.
I'm crippled.I'm afraid.I'm lost.
I pity. and your house of cards melts to the floor.

I have nothing. Not dreams. Not love. Not thoughts of my own.
suspended being.supreme predator.division of labour.
a cup to fill with coins.

the second official photograph I ever took.
3 years ago.
we found that dragonfly together.
We held her in our arms.
it was too late to save her.
so we made her a home in the soil.
and let her fall asleep for a hundred years. or more.

the first photograph I ever took.
he was blind and singing
on the steps leading to a temple.
with many blind men whispering prayers
and singing praises.

Return to Sender

You rain on me. I sky you.
wings. water.
childhood.
blue tenderness.
waves between our fingers.
milk and honey
i wish i was.
falling into faraway eyes
like paper planes through space.

let me take you down

somewhere i have never travelled,
beyond
any experience
where your eyes can have their silence

let me take you down
see your beauty broken down.
'In pitch dark I go walking in your landscape'

Radiohead

'Music is the electrical soil in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents'

'Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;....
...
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.'

Oranges and Tea- Cherrapunji

When we got there the sun was setting and all was a dull orange with its juices dried up and spilling onto the sky.

The sky's a fancy purple shop where clouds can now buy wings.
Everything is coloured like oranges and tea.
There was sky. there were clouds. and all of us were swimming in this strange little town.
the wettest place on earth.We were in the clouds. IN the clouds. Walking down the winding streets of this village proved to be difficult because We couldn't see what was two feet ahead of us.
Through the mist children would emerge. Smiling with little red umbrellas in their hands. They wave and giggle as I take their pictures and give them bracelets from my arms as gifts. By the end of the walk I had given away all my coloured glass beads from my wrists to them. Rainbow wrists no more.
They lived in little houses with small square gardens filled with flowerpots and ponds (with frogs in the ponds one small girl told me in broken hindi).I want children I realized.Hah. I want to live in a small bluewoodenhouse in the hills with many little children with a pond in the garden with frogs in it where everything is wet and one walks out of the door and onto a cloud. Or by the sea in a sandcastle with a little girl with flowing hair and I'll collect shells with her all day long and make more sandcastles only so they can be destroyed again by the crashing waves.
Beh. In my artclass there's this little girl who I show glitter to and tell her I've scraped it off a rainbow and she believes it. and she sits on my lap in everyclass and cries on my shoulder if her painting isn't the way she wanted it to be as I stroke her hair and tell her its beautiful.
I think I should keep her.
I want too much. too fast I think.

Back from dreamsequence to Cherapunji. I bought a red raincoat at a small ramshackle shop.

Its plastic and its translucent and its wonderful.
like the one I owned when I was young.
By the truckload 'they' cautioned us along the way to remember poor Hansel and Gretel Who got lost in the woods and other feelings we could wear no more: miniature labyrinths we could no longer find our way back into. I shoulder my disguise and try to capture the rain in the palm of my hand.
May 2007
'wind in
and the smell of your hair
i hit as hard as i can
with my nose
jumping into a puddle
wearing no boots
completely soaked (dripping wet)
wearing no boots'
sigur ros,Hoppípolla

Cold Feet

you stood
upon toes
upon earth
upon stars.
we were not afraid then.

We were supposed to run. We were ready with a suitcase and some skeletons in our closet.
the sky was green. it made me happy.


'Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened'

Feathers and dust

'I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,'

she wore feathers.
she said it brought her luck. and money.
whichever came first.

'Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away;
your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.'

You just move your hands upon the clock

" But all the clocks in the city
 Began to whirr and chime:
 "O let not Time deceive you,
 You cannot conquer Time.

  "In the burrows of the Nightmare
 Where Justice naked is,
  Time watches from the shadow
 And coughs when you would kiss."
W.H.Auden

Working Class Hero

"As soon as your born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all,
A working class hero is something to be,"

(you think you're so clever and classless and free)

Like Spinning Plates

Lounge Piranha are fish that like swimming in soundwaves.
wear costumes, have greenduckpuppets as friends.
use light so they look like paintings
use shadows too
they are ambient fish.alternative fish.
they live in soundscapes.
they are bubble blowers.
they write songs about moons,guns,hands with holes in them,the ocean and delirious states
they sing songs like umbrella,rajkumar classics,bhangra and bullah ki jaana me kaun.
play guitars,bass,drums,didgeridoos,radios,autohorns and cellphones.
they tend to explode. but its justified.
they are undefinable. unpredictable.
deep sea diving
"George Mathen is an artist by day and fully in control of the drum kit by night. He is also responsible for Piranha’s visual identity."
"Rohan Ramesh, current medical student and future quack, takes care of the bottom end with proficiency on his Warwick bass guitar. "
"Kamal Singh on guitar and vocals, uses lots of alternate tuning and open strings, and hits the grunge spot with alarming accuracy."
"Abhijeet Tambe on guitar and vocals, emerges from the tangle of the electronic loops in his studio to provide the ambient soundscapes with lots of guitar delay and reverb."

pervez on didgeridoo

go to
http://www.loungepiranha.com/
http://www.myspace.com/loungepiranhamusic

'I jumped in the river, what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt'
-Pyramid song, Radiohead

Call for Entries- Photography,Music,Creative Writing

Click on Image to read details.

Entries must be accompanied by a signed statement confirming the applicant’s date of birth, whether the applicant’s work has been published in print and/or exhibited in any forum (give details), and also affirming that the submitted work is original.

Toto Funds the Arts was established as a trust in Bangalore on September 15th, 2004. It was set up in memory of Angirus 'Toto' Vellani, who passed away in a tragic accident in Goa on May 24th, 2004. Toto – as he was known to his friends – was well known for his poetry, music and film criticism and other writings among various youth communities in the art.

TFA gives awards, fellowships, and grants to young artists and writers who demonstrate exceptional flair, promise and talent,talent that is yet to test its full potential.

Its main focus is the art of urban youth, which is least applauded and encouraged in our country. Much of their art is neither classical nor folk, nor national or regional: its form is hybrid, of mixed origins, influenced as much by the local as the international.
Click on the image for more details about the awards
and spread the word!

Half Shiva- Half Shakti

Dark eyes

and sweet sighs
little boys in a womans disguise.
they dance
with their feet
on their hands
with their eyes



'Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly

Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly'dastakar 2007