Pyramid, sphinx

As you can see, I have no clue how to format the page :(

Just been Egyptized!

The falcon-headed God, Horus took us on a journey. A journey that skimmed eras, swirled around ages and settled upon the new. That made the hair on my neck stand up and calmed me down at the same time. I...went to Egypt :)

Ever since I can remember, I've been dreaming about it. Sitting on that plane seat, I could never have been prepared for what I was about to see, feel and sense. Egypt was a revelation, in more ways than one. We hit Cairo city and chaos. It reminded me so much of India and I warmed up to it instantly :) A quaint hotel in  the middle of the city accorded a better view of everyday city life in Cairo. But by then, I had frozen into an icicle. It was 9 degrees!! 

The next day, Giza loomed large before us. And the pyramids loomed larger :) I was awestruck. If I could find words, they choked in my throat. The 3 pyramids stretch into the skies, tall, magnificent triangles fitted into an exquisite jigsaw of perfectly uniform stones and you wonder - "HOW???" 

No amount of Discovery or NGC can prepare you for this. Our guide, Iman was wonderfully eloquent...being an archeology graduate herself and having worked with Dr. Zahi Hawass, who I am a huge fan of (o.k., o.k....I am a geek)...she gave us an even deeper insight into Egyptian history. After entering the pyramid, which was a looooong claustrophobic way down a narrow shaft, we entered an ammonia-drenched pyramid interior. The tapering at the apex was perfect, reaching upwards with clean-cut symmetrical stones...smooth and unglued, just fitted into place! After climbing out of it, breathless and hardly able to feel your legs, I knew what it was like to 'Walk like an Egyptian'! 

Giza's Sphinx welcomed us majestically and gloomily...missing a nose isn't easy! The half-man, half-beast had secrets he was unwilling to share. Although he did speak in a sonorous voice via the modern-day light and sound show at Giza!

From there to the Egyptian Museum, which was a smorgasbord of such spectacular glimpses into a rich heritage. Pity we weren't allowed to take our cameras. I went from one display to the next with the predominant question in mind "HOW??". Everything was larger-than-life - the display of pyramidal wealth, accessories - everything to ease the passage into the afterlife. The sculptures, the artistry, the detailing, the sheer talent of a people way ahead of their times. Tut-Ankh-Amon's chamber - sacredly standing, aloof and dignified with the boy king's treasures up for public scrutiny. 'Oh's and 'Ah's peppered around, the artifacts made me wonder at the meticulous attention to detail these ancients mastered. 

And then....strange things happened, which you will never find in a travel guide :) A man approached our guide and started talking to her, fretting over something. A lengthy discussion later, our guide turned to explain. She said the man had visions everyday of a Queen/Goddess  who had an unfinished crown on her head. He said that the queen told him that he was the only one who could finish the crown for her and he had to do it. He paced the museum halls hoping to find her. We kept looking out for a statue with an unfinished/ broken crown...and we chanced upon Tutmoses III's wife. She had an unfinished crown on her head and we wondered...was she the one who haunted the man? Unfortunately, we couldn't find him anywhere.

Iman told us many more stories...of the guide who took a bunch of Europeans to the temple of the Goddess Hathor and plunged to her death after having climbed the roof of the temple, crying wildly "She's calling me! I have to go!"....Of the cigarette smoke in Hathor's temple that assumed the shape of a cow - her symbol. One day could never be enough for the museum, not with stories like that!

Saqqara, the Nile cruise, the ride around town, observing cultures, taking in everything....

...I really can't put it all down...REALLY. You have to see it for yourself. And there's so much more to explore. I have just seen a sneak preview - there's still Luxor, Alexandria, Valley of the Kings...

Although it's very little I've seen, Egypt pervades the senses and remains. And i keep dreaming of going back.

 

And so it shall pass :)

 

A li'l late, but Happy New Year it is!!

Geez! it has been long...and I somehow feel awkward writing after this hiatus. As for me, 2009 started on an excellent note with a trip to Egypt! (This one's for another day). So, I'm still warm and snug from memories of that trip. But for now, the words aren't pouring out like they should... and I'm racking my brains for things to talk about other than my holiday...so this one, I'll sign off with a (albeit late) wish for the New Year :) And hope that my next blog is more verbose!

I wish you all with so much happiness that it makes you cry...

I wish you all so much health that you glow with life...

I wish you all so many more years that you can fulfill each dream, each wish...

Most importantly, I wish you all new dreams, new hopes and renewed lives.

I wish you all...a fabulous, rocking 2009 :)

I'm too spaced out to put anything down. Can't seem to organise my thoughts. It's thanks to fellow-blogger Pinku that I've picked up my pen...errrr...keypad. So, a poem it is, simply for a lack of incidents...significant or otherwise.

New Dawn

Incandescent triangles of honey gold

Stab and pierce the windows, 

Searching through every fold and every wrinkle,

Creeping under the covers of the unmade bed

Seeking...

To dry the tears of a crumpled soul,

Left over by a cruel night.

Diwali Blues

It's that time of the year again...when I get lower than an earthworm's bellybutton. Characteristic of a seasonal phase, I feel lonely and depressed and wonder what I'm doing so far away from the people I love. 

When I walk these streets and stare at cold, sterile buildings each trying to outdo each other, I miss Diwali all the more. And home.

I can almost see my little town's every street, every home lined with warm, glowing diyas. I can see mom greeting everyone she meets, sweets being exchanged and me gingerly waiting for the next big 'bomb'. I can still feel the unconfined excitement of the neighbourhood gang waiting for dad to bring 'patakis'. I can smell the crisp aroma of 'thukudis' and the sweet sensations of 'ladus' in your mouth. Every association of Diwali is nostalgic and inviting and lends a strange, warm glow that fills the insides of your heart.

Everyone's home and yesterday's phone call drove me to tears. Most of all my brat-of-a-niece. As she animatedly (& secretly) told me her plans to plant 'maale pataki' behind her unsuspecting uncle (read my bro), I remembered my antics. And the time I burnt the sole of my feet :) Mom complained about how 'electric' diyas were replacing the traditional ones. And I saw her point. From my very early Diwalis, I used to stay on late into the night, making sure that each diya being blown by the wind was replenished with a fresh flame. An act that gave me immense peace. We used to sit up and watch out for the last dying firecracker, leaving it's whimsical trail behind...signaling the end of another Diwali night.

I try at my end here to light a little diya in my home, but it's just not the same. Without the intangible warmth of family and friends to make it glow brighter, it seems incomplete and listless. 

A cynical old friend calls it my 'delusion' - typical of Indians living abroad who think it's romantic to sigh about India and home. Maybe it is, I don't really know...but as long as I still pine to be 'home' for Diwali (or otherwise!), I would like to remain in this perpetual 'state of delusion' :)

To all you guys out there, wish you a sparkly, bright and beautiful Diwali...with or without your loved ones.

How can a grown man cry?

Realizations sting the eye

Like a million pins

On a display board.

And you blink it away

Blaming the dust.

 

How can a grown man cry?

 

Your earth lies shattered

Beneath your feet

And you walk the shifting sands of time

Afraid of falling through

With every step.

 

How can a grown man show his fears?

 

Your heart has sunk to its darkest depths

And your soul tainted with grief.

You look in the mirror,

To meet the ghost of your dreams

And look away, lest he prods your heart.

 

How can a grown man look weak?

 

You smile and laugh

And say it’s all right.

Everything’s fine and never been better.

But it belies the pools gathering in your eyes.

 

And you blink it away

Blaming the dust.

 

How can a grown man cry?

The SRK routine

Some songs do it for you. The recent 'Khuda jaane...' from 'Bachna he haseeno' is one such number, methinks. Sure, it's no classic and months later I would have purged it out of my system. Really, it's not like one of those olden goldies that one can listen to anytime.

Right now, I'm in the mood for 'Khuda jaane'. It's expansive and makes you want to do the SRK routine. Let's try this together. At the count of 'Khuda jaaaaaaannnnneeee....', spread your arms, bend a little backwards, tilt a little to the side, head back and yenjoooooy (note: all this has to be done with split-second precision). The words, music swooshes over you much better that way. It would help if you had a designer sweater.

I do it all the time for appropriate numbers. No seriously, it feels soooo good. Stand in front of the mirror (or just about anywhere actually) for maximum impact. While in public though, watch out for passerby's who could be smacked in the face by your windmill-arms. Don't get too carried away in public or you could find yourself in a padded room.

So, swoosh, spread, pirouette...and fill your soul with feel-good numbers.