tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61917606022832372852012-02-11T07:28:00.796-08:00With thoughts...words... punctuations...Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.comBlogger261100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-79873906336890260062012-02-11T07:07:00.000-08:002012-02-11T07:28:00.826-08:00

My hiatus was owing to two reasons, and I assure my still loyal readers (if there are any, that is) that is not a dearth of thoughts or matters to write about. The thoughts come flowing everyday from the right and left lobes of my brain, from the logical part and the underdeveloped right part of my normal brain. The first reason is laziness which was aggravated by the self deprecating thought

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-79202211768662352532011-07-12T10:21:00.000-07:002011-07-13T11:56:24.673-07:00

I'd walk to the Red Deeps More than anywhere elseSo when my delighted Will,Left to wander free for the first time,I walked straight to the Red DeepsAnd I say, a pleasure it is!In those arduous hours of renunciationI thought- let me deny myselfThis indulgence in the Red Deeps...But then a young heart, can it give upLonging and wishing whileIt is thoroughly alive?Entreatingly he said, "Do come,It

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-16033575355882722452011-07-11T11:14:00.000-07:002011-07-11T11:45:24.642-07:00

Everything was white around me in those times, plain and simple. Then red was sprinkled, it left some spots here and there, but nothing everlasting. Some, who cared to look spotted those dots and they wanted to know. Red, my physics teacher had told me, with the longest wavelength is picked out by the human eye first even from among a million colors. I should have kept it in mind. I should have

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-1277301881323570362010-10-06T20:48:00.000-07:002010-10-28T11:13:06.159-07:00

Tapping my finger tips on the keyboard I'm waiting for a thought to emerge from my mind, to cross the synaptic hurdles, reach my fingers and henceforth on to the screen, this wait is terrifying, when the blankness of my mind and at other times the murkiness of my muddled mind make themselves seem as the blatant truth of my purposelessness. I thought it was not really important to be ambitious...

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-77388957097639178492010-09-15T08:20:00.000-07:002010-09-15T09:19:09.686-07:00

Life for me was a serious no- nonsense affair, like Upamanyu Chatterjee says in English, August, " a blend of Marcus Aurelius and the Reader's Digest"...when did that begin to change?? When did I begin to feel quite apart from myself??I was enraged at myself, for agreeing to this...for agreeing to something that compelled me to be polite to him, for being in the 'fix' I was in, for not having

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-16770495191368042992010-09-06T11:46:00.000-07:002010-09-09T10:55:51.127-07:00

The night is fadingDawn is breaking at the horizonA while did it takeBefore I made out The rules of this bewildering gameThe vicious circle of bitter and sweetI set out, never telling anyoneDisappearing into the fading nightTo play this mystery of a gameThe light from the horizon illumine my sensesOf the truth that a young heart is not familiar to lovingBack then it was an act he says"Now I'm

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-86979655624020566592010-08-19T08:44:00.000-07:002010-08-19T09:43:46.988-07:00

"I will conceal nothing", I told myself when I put pen to paper. I loved Kamala Surriayya's (I prefer to call her Madhavi kutty)short stories. Is it the stories and their narrative tropes which lure me to read her tales again and again and again or is it because it is connected with the first ever act of rebellion in my life? Kripa warned me that I should think of some other writer in Malayalam

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-71088458467681755602010-07-30T08:45:00.000-07:002010-08-01T10:34:09.798-07:00

"The review was really good yaar but the way you began it I thought it was that snob, was quite surprised to see that it was you", as I listened to my friend's comment on my article I was struggling to gulp down a 'why' which was coming up my throat and threatening to expose itself. "Oh! so you listen to English music...hmm...I thought girls like you never listened to such stuff", as I brushed

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-4050063434541320862010-07-15T09:25:00.000-07:002010-07-16T23:33:31.072-07:00

I have never traveled so much in such a short span of time in my entire life and I don't know if I will ever have to. I can now understand why the 'Oxbridge' grads were sent off on a tour of the continent after their convocation. A few days on the road can do a lot to the way you look at things!The last two weeks on the road has drastically changed the way I look at places. I was not the kind of

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-90612331034088573702010-04-28T08:30:00.000-07:002010-04-28T09:10:42.151-07:00

I think I should feel happy that there are people who are actually concerned about the dormancy of my blog? Till they asked I just dismissed it as writer's block. But then writer's block happens only to great writers. Can a student, and that too a student doing her masters in English language and literature, afford to give herself over to the writer's block? When she asked me that I did not have

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-75002262254972074112010-03-18T08:58:00.000-07:002010-03-20T09:23:41.476-07:00

I don't think anyone would ever attribute the adjective 'patient' to me. But kids oblige me to be patient.Sunday! That meant weddings. My aunt didn't want to take her four year old along and since me, his favorite cousin, was also staying back, she did the inevitable. The moment I closed the door after seeing them off, the devil in him surfaced. The 'devil' who questions."Akka, why do you have an

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-2243684828524065032010-03-06T07:37:00.000-08:002010-03-06T07:56:24.534-08:00

Yesterday, tomorrow, and day after thatCome in line, accurately punctualClarion call for the future battleDoes it begin in the past?I define my present in terms of my pastBattle for the future and pastness?Do they go together?Experiences have to be filtered Cannot afford to let in the painI have to deny some voices, their existence deniedTheir vocal chords cutThey have fallen below the threshold

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-29249648884270188042010-03-05T07:45:00.000-08:002010-03-06T07:23:40.109-08:00

I have no logical explanation for the fact that I am actually blogging 12 hours before my exam, a university exam, mind you! Now this is symbolic of my recent behavioral pattern (if at all a pattern can be discerned that is). I have extremely 'upside down' notions of fixing my priorities and the 'important' strikes me as unimportant and the 'trivial' becomes the most dwelled upon matter. This

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-90534978145989153482010-02-16T07:51:00.000-08:002010-02-17T18:01:14.059-08:00

As the first rays of February 14 fell on my face, I felt no enthusiasm to get up from my bed. Yep! it was a Sunday and Valentine's Day made no difference. On second thoughts I could not afford to go back to sleep, I knew I would be occupied through out the afternoon with that quiz session and I had work to finish. Call of Duty prevailed. For a Literature student work means, primarily, reading

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-90244943573473050772010-02-07T07:55:00.000-08:002010-02-07T09:05:01.182-08:00

I was a nervous wreck. I had no idea how the day was going to turn out. I just knew that I will have to address an audience of teachers and students for some 30 minutes on a subject of which I had only superficial knowledge. Many thoughts were running inside my head. Everyone seemed to have high hopes for me, especially the teacher who forced me into presenting the paper. Will I let her down?,

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-90101179887308536062010-01-31T04:47:00.000-08:002010-02-01T06:37:03.792-08:00

Sundays are always different. To start with, however hard I try I can't get up before 8 in the morning on a Sunday. It is like I am always programmed to get up only at or after 8 on Sundays. So this Sunday too I did not break the rule and inevitably it entailed a sermon from my mom. But she did not prolong it for long, they had a wedding to attend. These days I avoid going for wedding ceremonies

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-89611817235963386952010-01-17T07:27:00.000-08:002010-01-24T07:55:51.734-08:00

It was a good day, very rarely do you experience such good weather in this part of our country. Classes were over before 3. Usually in such cases I run home or hang around chatting with friends, today I felt like I should go to the library, that library where we used to meet frequently. It's the rare sunny weather which prompted me to do it, otherwise I would never have thought about walking over

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-56201651479104211102009-12-15T07:31:00.000-08:002010-01-03T09:59:25.346-08:00

I have to be very very discrete when sleeping over my books, if my dad happens to see me he would start off on his theory about how the blood circulation to my brain is impeded due to lack of exercise and so on and on. Lately I have been very indiscrete so I have been hearing a lot of this theory. So I thought...why not give it a try and give my brain a chance...why not revive my old habit of

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-45170382995372196172009-12-01T06:58:00.000-08:002009-12-01T08:20:43.404-08:00

Ask anyone if they like to be cheated or tricked or manipulated... Life is indeed a queer game. Whatever you don’t desire to have, life gives it to you in truck loads. In living or drudging through the years, there are these unassuming people that you meet…people who instinctively trust anyone and anything. Is it really because they are stupid not to realize what your subtlest intentions were?

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-44206184063717660012009-11-26T08:37:00.000-08:002009-11-26T09:01:38.376-08:00

You know what my biggest problem is? I have plenty of things to do...seven seminars and term papers to prepare, a number of novels and literary theory to read, finish reciting verses from the Quran in another week, NET exams etc etc. But I still have plenty of time with me...I sleep a lot, I chat a lot, I sms a lot, I go blog hopping and I also find time to think a lot. Now the last part is

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-1381350200680289382009-11-26T08:34:00.000-08:002009-11-27T19:07:23.530-08:00

Wondered why you meet all these people in your life when apparently they don’t affect the course of your life in any tangible way. Well…I have wondered a lot of times and today the answer seems to start to take form. There are different categories…I mean the people who don’t affect you…one set comes in a flash and leave you as fast as they make their entry. Then there are these people who figure

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-67620267390447473732009-11-19T07:28:00.000-08:002009-11-20T09:02:52.901-08:00

A crowd inhabits life. A fascinating crowd of people. Each individual with a different look in his or her eyes. I wonder how this came to be...after all everyone sees the same sky, the same sun, inhales the same air. But I like it when they are different. Some intimately close, some at arm's length but close when you need them to be, some going away and coming back time and again, some watching

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-67625963492911809872009-10-31T09:04:00.000-07:002009-11-01T08:13:05.704-08:00

Slight and furtive mindWhom no one knewI kept to myselfWith an inner intensityOf avoidance and secrecyIt was sudden dialogueUnexpected, his words, He was eagerTo offer me somethingI heard muffled wordsI saw languid gestures.Contours of my facePale and disappearUnder a blush of mortification.The suffusion drainedAway from my faceAs he offered appeasementBut again I was mortifiedMy glass became

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-35221909109067325962009-10-29T06:50:00.000-07:002009-10-29T07:51:53.819-07:00

Life has been hectic lately, there is something or the other to do, always. The last week especially so. Seminars, term papers, dreams of a greener earth-- kept me so busy that at the end of the day I just remember that I had tired limbs and a fatigued mind. Its now, when I fell ill and had plenty of time for myself that I began to look at what has been happening to me. The most striking thing

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-16121913287720371582009-10-20T08:57:00.000-07:002009-10-23T07:57:54.970-07:00

Yep! Its them wedding bells thats causing me all the trouble. I pluck my eyebrows and people raise theirs and ask "proposal?''. Or else its that cliche of "eppozha biriyani?" But the worst of it all happens during weddings. Sometimes one gets the feeling that wedding ceremonies are where all aunties come in search of brides for their sons. If you are above 18, you are bound to be in their 'hit

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6191760602283237285.post-69043223877105729912009-10-19T08:39:00.000-07:002009-10-19T09:14:14.946-07:00

Success, it was a runaway success, no doubt about that. The enthusiastic applause was evidence enough. Finally the senior junior gap was bridged and the literary club was set to roll. But then questions started coming in...You write?, asks this girl who has published a book.Me (sheepishly): Er, no...I don't write poetry She is no mood to let go, "Does that mean you write other stuff?"After that

Sulfia Santhoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030344836476869922noreply@blogger.com5