Indian Long Drives

Also, at times like this one, I need long drives. Indian long drives. Indian? On Indian roads, in Indian cars, with Indian traffic rules (no rules). Just pick the last lane and keep cruising at a slow 40 MPH without a care. Stop by a tea-stall, buy a cutting for a couple bucks, feel its warmth and savour its gingery taste. Put it in the cup-holder, gear up and resume driving. On the long long stretches of GauravPath--the Piplod-Magdalla Road (Surat). Driving past the food-stalls, families picnicking, lovers cuddling, gangs of boys at cigarette stalls. Cigarette stalls. Especially around the SVNIT. What joints they were, weren't they? Boys seem to be very happy at those. With all their gangsta bikes and all. Show-offs. Trying hard to impress everyone in sight. Sometimes just not giving a shit though, and enjoying with one another. Laughing, cussing, cracking jokes-dirty and clean, occasional Eve-teasing, shutting up and all well-behaving suddenly on seeing some pretty girl pass by and just having basic fun overall. I never thought I noticed boys at the cigarette stalls so much.

Oh well , moving on, going further and further and getting lured to turn on to the (ONGC) bridge on reaching that circle. How many reasons have we had for driving upto that bridge? To get some fresh air; to see Tapti in its glory eagerly meeting up the Arabian Sea at the horizon; to steal some kisses; to eat roasted corn-cobs and chaats...And we paid a toll for all this. Literally. I'd have felt a zillion times better if I were there at this instance, gulping a lot of salty air that also distributed the wind in my hair. Pretty much a cleansing process it is, to stand on the ONGC bridge and just stand and go blank. Thoughts come and go but never register. Such a detox!

Solitude couldn't have been more enjoyable than on Indian long drives. On the other hand, what a different yet memorable story could be told if Dingi accompanied me on that drive! Then both of us would go on the shores of the Tapti behind the Gymkhana and just stand. And either talk or not. But we would communicate so much, either way. It makes me think though, why did I never dip my feet into the waters where they were conveniently banked behind the Gymkhana? I wonder if I will get a chance to do that again, given the rate at which new buildings are constructed there.

Wow, for a few minutes, I just slipped in a visual journey, if not a real one. Almost therapeutic. These Indian long drives, I sorely miss. No lanes, no limits, no belts; just a short long trip, a short long trip.

Layovers of Life

The feeling of relative-relaxation and anticipation while lounging at an airport, waiting for your flight mostly seems sweet to me. Curling up with a book, a coffee, the cabin-bag stashed against your body, now reading the book, now lifting your head out of the book to sip the hot coffee and in that one coffee-moment, capturing the whereabouts around you through your coffee-steam-fogged glasses. Your mind instantly confabulates a hundred different stories--the prim fifties man with the brown leather suitcase, the chirpy 16 year old with pink sneakers listening to her iPod, the mysterious thirty-something woman in her stilettos and red lipstick, the noisy family from Asia, the careless looking serious sexy young man with a slight spiky hairdo and so on. Then taking another sip and getting back into another story that the book tells.
Sometimes airport lounges are the only places where your mind gets time to do recaps. Analyses, introspections and more analyses; just pure unadulterated thinking, planning. You promise yourself to write it down and check it off the list. Unfortunately, you forget it as soon as you get on the plane...or even before that. But it was a realization, wasn't it?
Alone, you tend to begin new conversations. Accompanied, you take the talk deeper. When you are at the mercy of your brain's games, it could be all dangerous but airports are high-security, everywhere. Or, are they?
And then if the sole purpose of your being at the airport is a leisure trip, all of these seem definitely cherishable--the way they're coming back at me right now. I so long to feel that feeling of being at one of those waiting lounges at terminals, reading a little bit of my book, a little bit of faces and sipping my coffee-turning-cool.

Inflorescence

It is born. This is Inflorescence. No, this isn't my new blog. This is still my very first blog but with new clothes. It's revamped.

I had completely relinquished posting on this blog and actually, even looking into it, until today when I visited my own blog after ages and discovered that in spite of my absence, my blog had been active! How? My loveliest followers of course! My friends , old and new, had been commenting on my posts!! Did that make me smile!! :)

Some words of appreciation in there were so motivating, like Tammy's and Crystal's, to name a couple, that I instantly felt I shouldn't let this blog wither. Another motivation was the visits from fashionistas and style-lovers. After realizing that my blog was being visited by such awesome people, I felt it was my duty (you're free to smile if you find it corny like I do! :P)to groom it! So, thanks to all the love and support of friends, followers and visitors, here is my old blog in a new look! :)

The blog background is from thecutestblogontheblock.com. The colour scheme is edited and personalized.

The title "Inflorescence" is one of those favourite words of mine. I had learnt about the word in my Botany class in eleventh grade. I was never and am not a huge Botany lover but all these chapters dealing with the arrangement of leaves and petals in a particular fashion kind of enticed me every-time! The depth of the meaning had captivated me right back then and I decided to put it to use today.

The blog description line "That none should mow the grass there; While so confused with flowers", is a verse from a poetry titled "Rose Pogonias", by my favourite Robert Frost. There is something fresh and invigorating and life-filled about this verse, which I felt was apt for the re-birth of my blog!!

And finally, for those who did not notice, the web address of the blog has been changed too, to inblackandwhiteandfuchsia.blogspot.com. "In black and white" means 'to write/writing'. I added fuchsia for the personal touch! :)

So here it is, this old-new blog of mine, which is going to be a literary playground for me and you! I shall try and deck it with my poems and thoughts and some serious articles, every once in a while, when I'm taking one of those French-leaves and would absolutely love it if you pay a visit and comment!

And a little Anne Taintor motivation should be good for maintenance!

Thank you all for the love, support and time!

xoxo

---Tamanna

All pictures from weheartit.com. Anne Taintor picture from Anne Taintor.