OstrichSpeak

Ostrich - Speak... Hell what more can i say???!!!

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Meat

I stared at the steaming pile of corned beef in front of me.

It wobbled gently from side to side from the force of its landing

Little bits of onion and tomato made it all the more vivid

I thought to myself, " This meat has issues"

And ate it anyway

Sometimes we are unable to resist pleasures of the flesh

Even if it has a neurotic pesonality

Or does that just make it more appealing on a very base level

Well atleast i didn't have to club it on the head and drag it cavewards

It slopped itself on my plate very compliantly

And i ate it with a fork, napkin tucked into my collar...very civilised

Almost civilised enough to disguise the primordial oozy nature of its appearance

Given a millenia or two it might have evolved into something sentient

Alas today i shall have to deal with dumb meat

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

House arrest

vis a vis a vis a vis a vis a vis a vis a

no i dont' mean face to face... it my new favourite chant. I want my Visa so i can go back to london and get on with my life! I have a languishing band, a restless hand and a pen that won't stop writing songs. I need to get them finished with the rest of the fellas and i'm also experiencing severe gig withdrawals. I need to play soon before i tear my hair out/pluck my eyebrows with a pair of pliers/ Go on a depressed diet of mashed potatoes and Rufus Wainwright...

On the bright side finally got the track i did with a very good producer in london. It sounds sthooper...i'm very happy with it.

To be quite honest i'm tired of chronicling....maybe you should read my poetry blog instead? www.ostrachised.blogspot.com

or listen to my songs on www.myspace.com/samiramohamed ?

or try rubbing your tummy and the top of your head in opposite directions?

Or wink at an autodriver and see what happens next?

Or drink a beer while standing on one foot?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Bombay- A Short Salty Aircon Satyricon by the Ostrich

Misplaced priorities took me north this weekend…to a city that buzzed so hard it made me grind my teeth. Sitting in a coffee shop, after a quick cappuccino, the vague techno beats in the background made me want to sit up and do something with my life. With me was a serial Bombay lady killer with a stuffy nose and a wicked smile who told me to calm down and stop worrying about the time.

I leave for London in 8 days
I’m not packed
My closet is stacked
With clothes I can’t bear to throw away
And a rice cooker too old to be sold


I ended up gravitating to places in the city that were akin to my favorite haunts back home. Despite packing for a possible society bitch evening, my shiny blue rhinestone studded heels never saw the light of day…or night.

I had very bad luck with cabbies. Inspite of local residents telling me how honest and meter-worthy they were, I ended up paying 200 bucks more than I should have to a Bihari who pretended his taxi broke down half way. This is after he bummed a cigarette from me AND interrogated me as to why I wasn’t married yet. I told him I was too old for cannabis and too young for connubliss but just right for Amul chocolate. Of course he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about and just stared down my shirt at a traffic signal. He’d pegged me as a tourist and dismissed me ages ago when I said matchbox instead ‘macchis’. Incidentally the cab I took on my way to the departure terminal 3 days later also broke down halfway...it just wasn’t meant to be.

I did however spend two OC nights in complete comfort in a plush hotel room with a bowl of complimentary pears, green tea toiletries and the aforementioned lady killer. Seriously, I don’t think it gets any better than that.


Somewhere in my head
A Pomeranian with a Scottish accent
Wonders where to fling his poo
Flicks his over-blow-dried do
And I wish to god i knew,
How the movie producers would react
To the way we annihilated their horrid hit movie



I attempted to make good on my primary excuse for the trip by going to linking road but soon discovered it was neither cheaper nor of better quality than the shopping I was accustomed to in Bangalore. I did stop to stare at some shiny objects like a magpie though. Armed my two resident, hell-raising, evil twins in tow, I was spared the agony of bargaining. I just pointed to a pair of earrings I liked and they took care of it for me. I wish I could pack them into my suitcase.

(Spoken to the meter of beans, beans)
Twins, twins, good for the heart
The more you meet
The less you can tell them apart
The more you part
The worse you feel
So let’s keep the twins close at heel


Went to Ghetto’s whose walls were painted by the same artist who has graced Mojo in Bangalore with his rock inspired, psychedelic frescos and felt right at home. The beer prices were the only thing that gave it away. That and perhaps the inability to get in a frame of pool because the waiting list was closed to non-regulars. Mondy’s was enjoyable except I screwed up my jukebox selection and played some idiotic world cup anthem instead of Ava Adore.

Bombay you are a city of dreams
The same producers probably snored in your salty breath,
The night we did
So salut and Good cheer
Maybe I’ll be back in a year
And speak to the producers about playback
Or just maybe my glorious tan
Growing chocolate on a sunny terrace in Milan
Will reflect my disdain for their plots



3 days, excellent company, a round of goodbyes and one heavy aching heart later I was back at the airport. It’s true, I’ve lost focus. If anyone finds it please drop it in a mailbox.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Back to Frontwoman

I have returned. New computer set up, armed with a DSL connection i'm ready to take over the world.

My Electronica Project Dominant Season has finished one Album, 11 songs. I love them all. Looking around for a records label to pick it up. Wish me luck. I've Put up a new poem on Ostrachised, you can click through from my links section.

It's good to be back

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Half Way Point

Weddings are a huge circus and this one is at the half way point. This ol' clown is feeling the cracks in her thick make-up. They're starting to resemble the ones on her heels. The red veins in her eyes are nothing compared to the big one on her forehead, straining for a view of the happy couple. One of the rightful Ring-Mistresses, she is demoted daily to bearer of sherbets and ghee engorged sweets. This act has been on for way too long, and its only at the half way point. She will have to plod on, smile her twisted smile, the 2 frozen teardrops, the reddened nose... all for the flashing bulbs of posterity. Tomorrow maybe she'll sing a sing. Maybe she'll strangle an aunt... who knows. One can never tell at the half way point...

Friday, November 11, 2005

Life and then some

I have moved to a lovely big flat with two lovely mad women. As soon i get around to unpacking the last of my boxes i have this feeling i'm going to buying many things for the house... Compulsive decorator. Although much to booma's dismay and violent projectile vomiting there is one set of pink curtains in the living room :) *hug* for Boomsa

Went on a bender the day before, still recovering... Off to a jazz concert today. Bassist Jonas Hellborg from sweden is playing at the Windsor Manor and for once I've been invited to something interesting. The last time they called to see if i wanted to go to Ivan and Barker's pool grind...Um....i don't think so Tim. Will review concert in next update. Hope its good, not like the last Swedish installment the Dylan/Reed aspirant.

In other news, Hook has finished recording a 3 song demo. Roger, will send you a copy Asap. Mail me with your address again. Also in the pipeline, collaborating with a German producer to make some lounge rock style music. Meanwhile my solo album still languishes...

Still haven't got computer set up yet. Will be a while before the posting gets really regular again so bear with the Ostrich. Or Beer with the Ostrich... both are good. Ta

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Tall Cold one....

It's official. I have been cannonized. I am the Matron saint of beer. My three miracles:-

1. My chilled beering hips
2. My beer hugs
3. My bottoms up.

From now on you may address me as Saint Ostrich the Yakke

That will be all