e-musings

Ciao Roma...At the Airport

2006-04-17T08:22:00.000+01:00

Roma has a lot to live up to.
2000 odd years of the romantic, creative, talented past blends seamlessly into the modern, chaotic, vain present.

Landed over an hour late at Fiumicino from Heathrow (the plane had to be de-iced) and the change in time zones and latitudes hit me. No... one's not taken back 2 millenia...the airport doesn't look that old! But the sexy woman police officer with her Gucci sunglasses well positioned on her head is certainly a "warm welcome" until she decides she wants to body-search me! ho hO HO! (Ok..I made that up! Good fantasy anyway!)

The luggage arrives at Italian pace and the plans of sight-seeing during the day are wilting. Look for a trolley for the luggage and notice a trolley bay which will let one out out for a euro (non-refundable ofcourse). But I only have notes to pay for this and the machine doesn't like this. A couple of Japanese tourists try feeding the machine euro notes which it keeps rejecting, but they seem to be enjoying the tussle, flipping the note every which way and forcing it in. The guy at the Bureau de Change must have deliberately bonked the machine so he could get people to come ask him for change in coins and make him feel important (the euro would have taken away most business as he can't sell any more Lira).

Taxi to Sheraton Roma on my own would be expensive (40 euro)...I have the train maps. The sign posts are in English and Italian.Buy a train ticket at the Tabacci shop for 9.50 euro and wait for a train to Termini at 13.22, half an hour away. I play some Miles Davis on the Sony-Ericsson walkman to deliberately slow down time and take in the view. A young woman dressed in black with a red scarf and plastic rimmed glasses waits...gripping a canvas which is carefully wrapped with two handles made out of black duct tape. The sharp noise of the steam from the espresso machine at the cafe draws me closer and forces me to order one. My first look at the "Italian" pizza slices in the glass displays and I melt like the mozzarella on the pizza.
Passengers are filing in to the station.Women in summer dresses with oversized sunglasses and men dressed in tailored linen suits, hair gelled back and sun-glasses perched on the head...They're definitely Italian. Returning from sunny locales with hints of a tan. The weather this weekend will hopefully be good!

A flurry of activity as the train eases in to the station.13.15. The track on the walkman changes to Honeysuckle Rose by Django Reinhardt and the pace quickens. Everyone moves towards the train to get the best seats and places for their luggage. The platform official's sound echoes aloud in Italian, probably reminding people to get their tickets punched at the machine.
Settled in, luggage stowed away.
13.22: Is the train leaving on time or is my watch adjusted incorrectly? The engine powers up and train slowly chugs out of the platform. Ciao Roma!

Coming soon...Getting to the Sheraton Roma!, Supper Club, The Weekend...and pictures...

Consolation

2006-04-16T20:24:00.000+01:00

e-musings

This one was written sometime in June 2004 after a drunken night when certain frustrations were building up...Looking back it reminds me of my "J" character from the Myers-Briggs Test..wierd!

I wish for a better morrow,
There's no guilt in looking for a mate to drown the day's sorrow.
If I didn't put the effort in making this a better day,
Isn't there a million who were held in sway?
'Tis the fool who gave life purpose,
Didn't I have a thing too many already, to juggle in this circus.
Other's expectations weigh my shoulders down,
Affirm an unplanned invitation, I might drown.
This heart's envious,
The skin that could so simply shirk responsibility and be impervious.
Even if you look at it my way, It'd look incoherent and quite grey;
Maturing perhaps is a double edged sword,
If you lost your virginity, you'd be quite bored.
The shallow self I must console,
'cause the morn will bring a new whole.

Predicament

2006-04-16T20:08:00.000+01:00

e-musings

Here follow my humble attempts at poetry...

Predicament

This one was written on 11 June 2004 (better edited version!), first of a few that were sparked off by a wonderful person...

Know not why I can't speak,
The abstract draws words out of the soul.
Is it
Those dimples that the oysters would enviously crave to make?
The eyes reflecting nothing but like the most translucent of blue topaz, paling a diamond into obsolescence?
The smiles that betray tiredness,
A moodiness only Librans could share,
The ego that will stand up to and overpower the opposite?
Or is it
The confused tresses that would look just as exquisite if nature took over?
The comfortable skin she wears or the occasional unpretentious attempt at adorning another,
The mind that pains a soundness, the fickle heart overwhelms?
The free spirit I wouldn't cage.
Know not why I may not speak!

The Launch

2006-04-16T19:21:00.000+01:00

I've been meaning to get this page started for a while now. And encouragement from some of you has finally helped create this blog which I call e-musings.
Will try and put up everything that I feel I would like to share with you all and might provide a little entertainment and enhance the experience of browsing the web.
Enjoy and drop me a line so I know that this blog is not just a waste of space and our time.
Thanks.

Happy Bloggin'

Yours

Nakul