Moritz, Sebastian et al

SO, what is with me and these uber-cool European men?
Seems like I have a proclivity to find/fall for the Moritz and Sebastian Koch type. My prototype of L'homme Ideal et al.

Nor surprising, since I dated a couple of lookalikes way back as misty eyed grad student..the intelligence ridden eyes with the uber-hotness, but in a suave understated way. I do not fall for many of the usual icons of Bollywood.. the SRKS and all. Aamir Khan though was and is a favorite. but I love him like a a cutie pie, 'Bade Mamu' (and 'Sunju' of Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar).

But Moritz, aah is a different thing. Those life infused days in Paris, sleeping at the Sorbonne and walking through the Montmatre landscape, lounging students around, and my ex-calling me and asking me sweet questions in his German infused English. I wish I hadnt gone down the desi route..back to the idiot I was dating in school. Stupid desi baggage, I am still trying to unload. My whole idea of relationships, has come back home..to the girl I used to be. To the Moritzes and Berndts and Jans. Thing with them is that they dont have the machismo, (at least most)the air of male bravado, which even the cutest Latin guys may carry. I'd like the breakfast making, slightly feminine male, who is male enough to acknowledge his female side, and sparkles with the incandescent intelligence of a New York Times editorial, smoothing from Revolution to baking a linzertorte when I am in the mood and walking by the Seine in a beret, hot coffee in his hands. Anyways, I have held the bliss of Moritz in my life..and so much happier for it. :)

A relationship like an avant-garde postcard, backpacking in the Himalayas or Andes, smooth as silk and risky as a high rise cliff, but you've never felt safer..

Revolution aka Bhagat Singh

He's always been my guy. :)
Featured in the much touted 'Rang de basanti', he influenced me years before.
My grandmom was a little girl in Lahore they day he was hanged. By the British rulers, at the tender age of 23. He gave himself up to the Brits, after exploding a sound bomb in the Lahore Assembly and shouting 'Inquilab zindabad'(Long live the revolution), which became the slogan for the anti-imperialist movement, which brought down the British empire.
A towering intellectual, poet and revolutionary, his prison writings, from Urdu and Perisan poetry to European revolutionary thought is eye-opening. His essay 'Why I am an atheist' shakes one up and makes one think..again.

--

'By Revolution we mean that the present order of things, which is based on manifest injustice must change. Producers or labourers, in spite of being the most necessary element of society, are robbed by their exploiters of their labour and deprived of their elementary rights. The peasant who grows corn for all, starves with his family; the weaver who supplies the world market with textile fabrics, has not enough to cover his own and his children's bodies; masons, smiths and carpenters who raise magnificent palaces, live like pariahs in the slums. The capitalists and exploiters, the parasites of society, squander millions on their whims.

- Bhagat Singh, Indian revolutionary, 1907-1931

To Sofia

Sofia Kovaleskaya, creator of the Kovalesky therom, was the first woman to earn her doctorate in mathemetics in all of Europe and Russia, despite not being allowed to attend classes..
- Dr. Ann Liebowitz, Women in Science

We've worked hard to get here
despite sweating blood every month.

Russians

Believe me when I say to you,
the Russians love their children too..
- Sting


How we loved Russia..
growing up.

Land of Marx and Das Kapital (well,not literally)
land of Boris Pasternak and the Bolsheviks, who brought down the Czar.

Beloved land of music and Mendeleev
molcules like their music.

Land of Tchaikovksy and his ballerinas, floating like swans on the frozen Neva.
Land of my first Love and Leningrad.
Land of Petrovski and Trotsky, mad with revolutionary rage.
Molotov cocktails in the their eyes, ballerinas in their hearts.
Death in their souls,
Dostoyevsky in their dining rooms
chopping sausages like their hearts.

Long frozen snow covered Urals, flying by Yuri Zhivago's train.

Pasha Antipov and his passion for the peasants..
those sturdy rock hard sons of the Mother
born in India and Pakistan and China and Peru and Colombia
and Argentina..
as Che.

I loved them all..
and now they are all mafias.
Drunk on gold and Bangkok booze
and call girls
roam the sanctum of the Kirov*

*The Kirov is the world famous legendary Ballet theatre, going back centuries.

Mom and Dad and Dad: Homosexuality in the animal kingdom

Came across this amazing article, which reinforces what I have been saying all along.
That we are all 'ardh-narishwaras'..yin and yang.

This line is particularly telling:
"Homosexuality" and "heterosexuality" are terms defined by societal boundaries, invisible in the animal kingdom.

-----
http://www.livescience.com/animals/061116_homosexual_animals.html

Some argue that homosexual sex could have a bigger natural cause than just pure ecstasy: namely evolutionary benefits.
It could be used for alliance and protection among animals of the same sex. In situations when a species is mostly bisexual, homosexual relationships allow an animal to join a pack.
"In bonobos for instance, strict heterosexual individuals would not be able to make friends in the flock and thus never be able to breed," Bockman told LiveScience. "In some bird species that bond for life, homosexual pairs raise young.

Almost a quarter of black swan families are parented by homosexual couples. Male couples sometimes mate with a female just to have a baby. Once she lays the egg, they chase her away, hatch the egg, and raise a family on their own.
"Homosexuality" and "heterosexuality" are terms defined by societal boundaries, invisible in the animal kingdom.
contd.

Fabian Socialist nostalgia et al

I am feeling intellectually deprived.
Starved in a way..
Wish I could be back in the London of the '30s, hanging with the Fabian Socialists, Oscar Wilde et al. Shaw and Virginia Wollfe, sipping Martinis at bookstore cafes in the West End.

If I have to watch one more American mind-numbing carb-loaded TV show..I'll be ill.

Can sex and the city, love, music, babies ever be a substitute for intellectual stimulation?
Can men ever make up for poetry and the Love song of J Alfred Prufock?
Can a diamond replace the intellectual trip which comes from peeping into the heart of a molecule?

Flowers in my hair

Blooms
orchids
bird of paradise
bloom
in my hair
and heart..

Singing to me of the man
of the sun and sea
bringing his hands
with
his heart..

Sweet
like little birds
they run
up and down
my window
laughing at me
with his eyes..

Habillez moi (Dress me)

Its the buzz..
of waking up.
Like sipping coffee
even though I am off it
for the day.
I have another high.

Feeling lace
legs
feet..
trimmed
tasted
bare.
on the green
grass..

Today

Today is the time to wake up and be free.
Today is the time to go running and breathe in the fresh air, aspire for Jimmy Choos, fall in love, make it big.
Today is the day to go on the 'Skinny Bitch' diet, of Japanese noodles and organic earthquakes.
My body is reeling
from the impact..