The good news

The good news is that i know what the bad news is.. soooo much to do!!

more questions, than answers

a moment of perfection

look right to the lincoln memorial, and a sliver of moon adorned with venus

look left to the lit washington monument, and the capitol making its grand presence felt from afar.

the bacardi helped, but only so much..

random dumb question of the day

so some day, if we manage to catch light from a source 14 billion light years away, will we have front row seats to the Big Bang?

Jet trails

are on a journey to a loved one.. are seeking thrills in paradise. could be returning home to family.. or following oft-tread 'kaching' trails. each wisp has its own story.

contrails are one of the many new finds for me here. straight lines have rarely looked so beautiful, outside of a kandinsky.

some romance the skies in faith, and some dissolve hastily into the blue. some diffuse, while others obediently follow their drummer.

lines that are never eternal, and yet..

.. one leaves you with a memory, that has its own story.

Closer

take a look at 'Closer' to see what i mean in my post below.

a stellar cast (J. Roberts, N. 'awesome' Portman., J. Law, C. Owen) frames an at once searing and melancholic (if overstated) look at the fragility, jealousies, betrayal and compromises that seem to tinge more and more contemporary relationships; fast times at modern high, if you will.

love, anyone?

i wanted to write a post about love, and relationships between men and women; try and express all my current bewilderment and astonishment at what it can pull us to do, with all its beauty and tortuousness; how it can be ephemeral, and only rarely forever. and how we sometimes leave all logic and reason at the bedside, to 'believe' and 'have faith' in someone else to work together with - even out of our usual way - for a better tomorrow. and perhaps, day after.

however when i sit down to put words together, i'm left confounded by my and other people's reactions on sticky romantic wickets, and can form no mind-blastingly original insight on the tragedy of love. it is there for all to see, but for few to understand. the worst of our silliness, immaturity, insecurities, and emotional imbalances can be out, and sometimes it's not pretty, but we keep doing it?

yes, love works; but to find it, and to keep it pure - what price, these? or is there at all any such thing as pure love? is it often only a curious mix of comfort, fancy, and compatibility and we are only too happy to name it 'love'? also, it is mostly conditional; most people have no idea when they talk of unconditional love. either way, we bandy around the word too carelessly.

or am i being needlessly cynical, and need only wait till i bask in its blissful euphoria again, to forget about this post?

happy valentine's day, everyone!