Lighthouse

Go! I WON'T BUDGE!!!

No! Wait Don't walk over me like this. Wait...

Office – Office

I wake up from my slumber and try n shrug off the hangover. I brush my teeth, testing waters I enter my shower and tumbling and grumbling, cursing my heater I finish my bath in split seconds. Somehow, I manage to find something to wear to office from the mess in my room. Trust me no matter which day of the week, which hour of the day it is, my room looks bombed.

I withdraw the blinds and hope some sunshine to brighten my room. I get out and make a cup of tea for me, listen to my favorite songs and pack up.

Get down from the fourth floor and drawn into the crowd that is en’route office. I walk a few spaces and realize, I can’t keep pace with them. I take a deep breath and look all around. I see them. She dresses up in dark skirts, stockings and fragile white tops. She always wears a different scarf, often a bright one. He is too, dresses up like a big business honcho. Black pants with stripes and a shirt to go with it. Formal silk tie and shined black boots, gelled hair and crispy mischievous smile on his face. They, walk hand in hand up until the bridge and that is where the roads split, he holds her hand tenderly, pulls her a bit close and they kiss. Sun shining right behind them, there silhouette looks so sweet and tender. He whispers something into her ears and they head off into their directions.

I keep walking, I keep looking, I see the old granny too. She pushes the little trolley each morning. Don’t know where she goes, where she comes from but I can’t miss her.

Moms bringing there kids to the schools or kindergartens, little kids in their pushchairs, waving at any one passing by or busy with their toys. They look so innocent and I feel they look at me as if where was I headed. I do feel, where am I headed ?

I keep looking at people passing by. Right then, a guy dressed in jet black biker’s suit rushes by on his Honda. I can only catch a few glimpse if he gets the red. Otherwise it wroooom…..

I get beyond that but keep looking at the beautiful scarves women wear, those interesting hats, long coats, guys dressed in suit – holding coffee in one hand and suitcase in other, I keep walking.

Once in a while Sun winks at me through the dark Irish clouds. I still am playing invisible guitar swinging to the music on my iPod and right then someone prompts me for my Identity card and realization dawn, oops I’m in office…might as well work.

I wait for the next morning, only for this walk, only for those kids, the old lady, the couple and Sun who winks at me to wish me a good day.

You’ve a nice one too folks.

Concert – 4

I just finished working on some presentation, I wasn’t able to give my 100% and I didn’t feel any good about it. It seemed like my mind had something more important to worry about. Something that means a lot but reality seems to defy my mind.

Puffed the sadness out and tried getting a perspective, when couldn’t I called up my friend up and asked if we could go for the concert early? Courteously she said “Emm, I’m held up right now, if you would want to go ahead and down some pints go ahead or we’ll meet later.”

Right then it rang, for which I’d been waiting for so long. But, it was a talk of nothing which was destined to go from no where to nowhere. I shrug my shoulders and put on my jackets and darted out of my house.

Rushed to the concert hall and settled down with a pint in the last row. A lady dressed in delicate red top and smart jeans who sat a row in front of the one I was in, said “Feel free to come up, there are free seats.”

I smiled but stayed where I was. I couldn’t forget that glow on her face and the enthusiasm on her face. Paul Currerri was playing guitar on the stage and he was at peak in his gig. His fingers moved sleekly over the shoulder of guitar and the sound was clean and clear as a whistle. Right then, I saw the lady disappeared and Paul said “I’m playing this last one and Devon will come on to the stage.” And there she was, the same lady, the lady in red.

I was so thrilled. I felt different. Devon, picked up the guitar and strummed the cords that sounded familiar. She was playing “Honey let us go out. There is nothing in the fridge. Nothing in the cupboard, jelly jar is empty n am sick o peanut butter.” The recorded version has a touch of Jazz, but when she played it with her acoustic guitar it sounded much more tender, fresh and free flowing folk music. The lyrics were delicate and her voice sounded so innocent and unpretentious. I fell in love with her music right then. Later on she went on to play ‘Come comet or Dove’

Now, there is nothing more satisfying that hearing artist you like play the song you like and just before that artist gives the story behind the song. Devon smiled and said, “This song was written in the summer. It was the time when I was trying to impress Paul and I’d to come up with something really good. And my heart spelt out the lyrics and the chords just fell in place when I got my hands on guitar.” I watched the smile on her face and evident satisfaction on Paul’s face as he was done playing and he was sitting behind, sipping on his beer.

And when she came onto the line “Right or wrong, to him alone I come to be fed” she looked for that assurance from him from the last row and his smile said it all. And then strummed the guitar stronger and wilder and the song picked up the pace again. This concert was so different that any other I’d been to.

The highlight was, when I met Paul outside and over a beer, we talked about his album and Devon. It so appealed to here their story and how the songs evolved. A musician who fell in love with a pretty girl who loved writing her songs and playing guitar and then he dedicated his first album to her. The spark in his eyes, as he talked about music and his wife Devon was touching. I so felt if I could, I would love to dedicate one such song to –

or wrong, to her alone I come to be fed…

Listen to Devon Sproule at :

http://www.myspace.com/devonsproule

Neo

Different Strokes – Noel

If I can’t understand one breed of individuals (well, let alone women), most definitely it would be Taxi drivers.

No matter which country you go to, there are some peculiarities you are bound to come across. The most evident of all is ‘I’ve got the wheel…’ well, sometimes they do successful wrap it all up with their nicety and in the hope of a handsome tip. But, you come on, you know it, I know it… it shows.

So, after such a boring pretext, I will touch the nerve…

I dropped my colleague at the airport at an unearthly hour and sipped on the horrible tasting stupendously expensive airport black coffee. I walked out of the departures hall and walked down to the taxi stand. Gazing at the early morning stars and wondering what time it might be in my country, where my beloved ones might be and what they might be doing, if they would take a moment to miss me and bla bla.

Well, I waited for my turn and the cab rolled in front of me. As I’m used to asking, I did “Can we go to Pearse Stree, Please.”

I waited, while he rolled his windows down. I repeated with as much politeness as possible. He just nodded and the good lord of cabs agreed to take me there.

There I was, clad with a jumper and a jacket that makes me look twice my size, trying to squeeze my ass into the front seat. (Now, this was the whole idea of sitting next to the driver and being polite and stuff) So, as I was sinking into the seat, there handle was out of my reach so I just tried pulling the door by grabbing the window. In a split second, I was shouting with agony. “Please, roll them down. My fingers. Jesus.”

Noel, the cabbie, just looked at me amused but least bothered about my state. I pretty much shouted, “My fingers are breaking, can you please roll the window down.” Looking back, I’m surprised, I didn’t swear, I didn’t call for the sweet Jesus neither did I shout at him. Man, what is wrong with me.

Anyways, I land my ass and my fingers in one peace in the cab. And the wheels roll.

I said “You pretty much broke them.”

I was expecting a not meant but well said “Sorry.”

However, Noel said, “You shouldn’t put your fingers in wrong place, man. There is a handle there.”

“Ahh, is there one, I missed it.” I was so set to go on the sarcastic spree.

“So where on the pearse street?”

“Gallary Qauay”

“Ahh, that new, emm …”

“Yeah those fancy glass apartments, I’ve to go there.”

“Do you work there? hann”

Sweet, so what did he think I was, garbage-man, house assistant or guard to go to one of his shifts? I replied, “Ahh, It is residential complex, so people live there and so do I. I work in Dublin city.”

“IT?”

“Google.”

“You can’t sleep though, when you go home, it would tough to get to office then.”

The million dollar advice I was looking for. “True. I don’t think I’ll sleep.”

“Yeah, your fingers would keep you awake.”

I couldn’t believe that son of a gun said that, I replied, “Well, then I owe you the day. I need to thank you for doing the favor.”

Hardly did I know, it was just beginning to get interesting.

He rolled his side of window down and it there was a pleasant breeze outside and we were driving by the river. I too wanted to roll the window down. So, I did.

Expert’s comment followed “Watch your fingers though.”

I’ve to admit that he pinned the last nail on the coffin.

We pulled in right in front of my apartment and I asked for receipt. He said, “So you want to give the receipt to Google?”

“Most certainly.”

“Yeah that would cover your hospital bill.”

I said, “We don’t go to hospital for something like this, But I thank you for your invaluable advice.”

“No problem. Here is your receipt.”

Dam it, he’s got the wheel, I should have at least sworn.

Traveller

Sunshine in Dublin

So, I touched down. Dublin.
I would like to call it a city of blinding lights. If for nothing else then to pay homage to U2.

On the far left you see those famous U2 chimneys.
On the right hand side is the dock and canal area (By the way i stay in the complex right next to the canal)



So, just to show there are some old buildings which are on the verge of falling down and beautifully decorated with graffiti.








Three wise men... Life is on the run...






Neo