The Best Days of my Life:

 The Best Days of my Life:

"some lessons are learnt too late"
some customs are burnt by fate
some immigrants are usually late
some locals share the exact same fate

met my Sita at the circle K
agua linda, la montana, light and gay
CaliNTitos and fine museums
historically a part of my dreams

"death is a part of life" you said
As an MPH, I think not instead

Learning, Mate!
Loading...(fate)...
Wheelers spinning multicoloured
Microsofts hour-glass blurr'ed

chasmhudin jaise Vettori
Daniel ki parivar hain ek kahani

Clinton, Inc, Obama Inc, Bush colour ink
a moment of remorse, a drunken drink

The Big Three rule the ICC
the International criminal court, too

love over power
I'll see you, you see me?

World Population Pie Chart

This pie we share, ever expanding,

Could be more gracious, less demanding

More generous and kind

On our neighbour's porches

More responsible and just

Like Polaris Northest

'Cause the value of a chart

Is not in its appearance

It's how it leads our way

As we think about experience

And as we think about ourselves

And the gifts we want to open

Made by Santa's elves

Or by aMMa's eloping

What diyas we want to light

In the core of darkest night?

I have a party to attend

I've got to catch this flight

What a world we could create,

With the rightest interest rates

This pecan, walnut, apple pie

Above the ground beneath the sky

Where percentages and ratios

Don't define our solo souls

But each person is heard

And no one is sold

Sweet and salted, gooey goodness

Gushy, crunchy, nutty hoodless

Gullible enterers of a gully narrow

Gulliver's travels of the mind's marrow:

Imagination will take you places

When you stop playing games

Stop running rat races

Put out the flames

(Dedicated to Jesus and the baker's dozen disciples)

Stairway to stairwell

Stairway to stairwell

 Enjoyed the Athens porchfest festival is dupehar aur sham. Caught the whimsical early wisps of the hair at the nape of my sky friend in the form of a pinkish blue sunsetting, not on the phone but in my arbitrary access memory. 

Chose wisely today after starting a quibble with my source, that was put out before it could trickle down like the water droplets that together constitute Victoria and Niagara Falls. 

Remembering now the time I excitedly and chillfully fell down the steep stairs of a once haunted home, dropping the green ceramic plate covered with Choo Choos chicken and rice all over the last steps down to the landing. The yellow sauce and rices I had to handsomely clean up but my life was spared by an Act of God, unlike our home's predecessor, who drunkenly lived out her last moments falling down the very same stairs.

Public health announcement: falling down kills more individuals every year than lightning, hurricanes, and tornadoes combined. Most people who are not homeless die in their homes. 

Say what you feel to your loved ones, for no moment is promised. If you know me, I love you, and I wait every mindful moment for the refrain that will bring us home. Om Shanti Om

Tabalchi

Tabalchi, Yours Truly

Throwback to the last time I had the great honour to meet Anindo Chatterjee in-person, touch his feet, with my guru Masterji (Amitabha Buddha), a disciple of Anindo Chatterjee. Through learning tabla and doing my best to return to it no matter how many hours, days, weeks, and even years I may have strayed away from it for, returning to tabla is always a mental-physical psychosomatic health check-up for me, and a spiritual saviour. 

I savour each moment in audience of such Masters of music, men and women who understand the whole life as music, who dedicate their whole life to music- and teach countless students. 

Ever since I went to an Indian reservation near the 4 corners of Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona and took home a drum, singing and beating along to "Humma humma humma (ek a ho Gaye ham aur tum), I have been a percussionist (unless you count piano, also a percussion instrument, which came first). 

I wish all the love in the world to all my teachers, be they my friends, my acquaintances, strangers, frenemies--enemies (the one's I learn from how not to be)- I hope you know who ya'll are to me. I never forget a friend and I never forget a lesson, even if time elapses in the interim of my exercising of these lessons. 

Music is universal, compositions plan the way and distill the past into crystallised packages, much like the packages of data sent through the internet protocols. 

How you play music is what matters, with what in your mind, what love in your heart, what feelings in your skin, what beliefs about where to begin? "With what does the Science of Logic [philosophy] begin?" (George Wilhelm Frederique Hegel)

I pose that question to ya'll. Where have you been, tell me, where do you want to go, how can I help you get there, and which pathways will be for the betterment of all? "Via the spectrum road"? - (Tony Williams Lifetime)

signing off...your tabalchi

Sanam Manas