"Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux."

- Antoine de Saint-Expupéry

Sometimes I miss Hyderabad.

classrant

How long has it been? Thirty minutes? Forty? I'm scared to look at the time. What? It has only been twenty minutes? A nap sounds good. Actually, a movie in bed. With some popcorn. We're talking about la langue. Le Serment de Strasbourg. When would be a good time for this class? Yes! An anecdote. Wait, someone (the same girl!) is interrupting him. Typical enthu cutlet (my favorite phrase right now, by the way). What happened to the anecdote? All these Charles' are hard to keep up with. Another interruption. Okay, at least she knows her facts. She seems the type to write down each and everything the professor says. My professor should read stories to little kids. He'd be brilliant at that. Anecdote time. He's referring to himself in the third person. I like how he laughs at his own jokes. What confidence. "Je l'ai lu, mais en extraits." Okay, funny story. Le Serment de Strasbourg is three lines long? Enthu Cutlet asks another question. Woah! Someone else has a question. We're halfway done with class! Better than I expected. Okay, now I must take real notes. Goodbye... This is too good to stop. I guess she makes up for the rest of us being so quiet. 1953. What an old book. Sainte Eulalie. Mini Latin lesson. Actually twenty minutes long. Now she wants to know what the book is called. I hope this doesn't continue for every class. Now she's answering another girl's question. Didn't he mention a break in between? I should be taking more notes. Did someone just fart? I'm terrible at controlling my laughter. Maybe it wasn't a fart. This girl 'knows' everything. Or she acts like it. Someone needs to film this class. Experimental type movie. Sidetracked on a grand scale. Nandu would enjoy live tweeting from this class. Thirty minutes more. He calls them "parentheses." With an accent grave on the first 'e.' I should be interested in all this history. I think it's time to go- people have started packing up.

Tumblr won. I'll be moving back.

Intoxicating Stink

Overflowing with milk tetra packets, garlands of wilted jasmine and marigold,
Rotting banana peels, mixed in with decaying food matter,
Swarms of flies and mosquitoes around, two crows, picking out scraps,
A mangy flea-infested dog with half a tail, sniffing around,
It reeks, it slowly makes its way up your nose,
Then reaches down and yanks your guts out,
The stench taking over your body, that pungent, moist, nastiness,
That revolting, foul foul odor, intoxicates you while burning your insides,
It's hideous and repulsive, and makes your stomach turn,
But there's something sweet, warm, something familiar- I'm home.

Like a wave trying to escape,
But is pulled back into the deep dark ocean
Over and over again, a little further
Each time, lapping at the sand,
Yearning for more, leaving a little residue,
But the same fate awaits.
Perhaps it's what's meant to be,
Or one day, instead of only pools of water,
The wave will make a crashing leap, onto the sand,
And continue on, glancing back, onto eternity...


(Unless the current is so strong that the wave just gets sucked back into the scary, scary, black, murky depths of the ocean.)

an almost perfect apple

Shapes in the City

Last night I walked in hexagons.

Not around in hexagons, but literally inside of them.

Once it was in 48, the second time it was in at least 28.

(June 18, 2011)

mon bâtiment préféré ici

I see spots and squigglies floating around in front of me,

Reminding me of some sort of ultra sound image.

I think they might be alive,

But they don't come out everyday.