every little jigsaw of every man and every woman in this world fits in and is designed to do so; conditional on every other lil idiosyncratic fit they each may share with numerous others. the world accommodates, revises, blends out; the gaps and protrusions of people to form the big painting of human relationships

pointless but happy

its been a sweet life these few days. in the real sense. bars of snickers and cookies and sweet banana chips. peppered here there strongly with jalapeno-ed potato chips. and chipotle and mexican hot sauce. and its beginning to show on my hips. the more my brain works the more my tummy greeds for. not forgeting the sweetly warm sun thats making me a browner shade of honey, where i sit for an hour munching on my hersheys bar. life is good and hungry

when the sky crackles, splits and roars with the obvious threat and the wind blows dead leaves onward to join the uproar. and the sun is pushed into oblivion and the world gets a sinister color to it. when you are wondering how much longer will that last bit of bright sky manage to fight through, you see that unexpected rain makes people run. run, was what that fat girl/woman was doing even though it looked like blobs of flesh bouncing up and down. and that cyclist raced through like he was being chased. suddenly everyone is hurrying all around, while i smile in response to a 'dude, ready for the rain?' somewhere close to me. rain makes me feel young sometimes...

was it ordained that I'd come here and by a fluky last-min-reshuffle of assignment, be put with you. and then would begin another journey in this world of probabilistic-matching encounters and following relationships, some without names. enabled with words or the unnecessarity of them, we would learn each other and continue to do so (for how long?) while I refuse to let go of you and you allow me my stubbornness.

some odd meters down the corridor you coexist and sometimes I wish you into appearing right in front of me in that very space that is a metaphor of our guarantee that this will not grow into anything disrupting to either's life.

jab kisi ek mein duniya ke saare rishte dikhne lage
tab samjho ki koi mil gaya

jab uske saath aas paas sab kuchh thham jaaye,
aur bas woh hi woh rah jaaye
aur uske jaane ke baad achanak duniya ka ehsaas ho
tab samjho ki dil ko padaav mil gaya

words drip from my mind like the drops from my hair as i let the flowing water wash it all away. and yet i cannot express myself.

and my hand cannot control the pencil like it used to. its gone, lost. just like that. in fact i'm scared even to hold it and try now.

i think i'm missing that country where one is never stared upon, never talked about in whispers. where one is alone but more than that, is on one's own.

and i'm missing some conversations. its not the same thing to be lonely as it is to miss someone. and nor does it mean the same to want to bawl like a 2 yr old in a tight hug and be told repeatedly that its ok. and yes it matters who the arms belong to

there should be no reason why two people like each other, they just do
and there should be no limit to how much they can
there can be no name to express what they share
and there's no embarrassment to a mutual confession, that this is true

and it's not the same in a third's presence
it comes alive only away from the world
and the initial ripple of the excitement of every meeting
isn't anything compared with the peace that comes in its wake

the leaf let the wind take it
sometimes enjoying the flight
and some just weighing down

and on my way i saw a bush of giant white flowers.
and from one flower, on tipping it onto my palm, i got a handful of pink tipped cream colored pollen stems

the numbers of yards of wildflower-spotted grass
that i crossed with a lowered head
thinking of the people who can make me cry without wanting to hurt me
of the power i give into their hands
that i'm happy not to take back
for which i ask nothing in exchange

fond memories and farewells ... and gratitude

magic, love and wonder
and simple acceptance of these
(to the point of self-defeat and helplessness)
in the little things of life

the night could contain it no more
it finally rained like the confession (that never came)
and she could hear it on her window incessantly
through her wakeful sleep

so most environmentalists say emission standards should be set. and most economists say 'pay to pollute' is more efficient. they never try and understand what the other implies. pay to pollute would actually (given rational polluters) reduce pollution in a cost effective manner, accepting humbly that no pollution is impossible. and the proponents of this see standards as allowing 'free' pollution upto the standards and that is preposterous to their calculating minds. they conclude that the environmentalists are nuts.

now the environmentalists cannot understand economic math and so they don't see the efficiency being talked about. their argument is simple. how can you let anyone pay to commit a serious offence against the environment. its like saying, once you've paid, the offence doesn't remain one. its morally wrong. it doesn't send out the right signal to the world which should be 'do not pollute'. ok, so no pollution is impossible, but humankind should aim to reach as close to that impossible as possible. so set tight standards.

three borrowed thoughts

its so obvious and yet so deep. never seemed to realize it. cost-benefit analyses assume that the marginal utility from a unit of money is constant and the same for everyone involved in the study. which is kind of restrictive.

you would think a rich guy wouldn't care to earn a dollar and someone else may consider that very important.

and yet counter to this is Edgeworth's argument that a rich guy can enjoy an extra dollar more than a poor guy can. meaning a rich person because he has already satisfied his basic wants, can get more pleasure out of extra money where as someone who really needed that money will maybe not break even with it. so in that case, sensitivity of the rich to additional money is higher than that of the poor.

so, welfare considerations get confused. obviously

tell me i haven't changed you, and i would consider it my greatest success

"he was at once both too great and too small for love"

while in his stories he tries to decipher the mysteries of the nature of the characters he narrates to have known, i wonder about him. at some point i'm convinced that he detested women in a way, that he was contemptuous of them but then he surprises me toward the end of the tale by springing on me, this woman who is a contradiction to the most ubiquitous of womanly faults. and is yet, so whole a woman. was it that he never found the ideal that he was searching in woman? and therefore he was gay...?

the moon came and went unnoticed
and so will the sun again tomorrow
the clouds heavy in their heart
just hung there
and failed to share their sorrow

and now my blog becomes as accessible as chat. i'm sure that'll make the posts even increasingly tweet-like. and so update for the day - i'm hoping tonight-tom's snow will be the last of this winter. its been a thick-skinned winter not to take the hint and end its stay

they'd rather leave it as an imagined claim of right, than make what meat they can out of reality. what they sure do, is deserve each other