A dash of Blue

On and Of

2009-12-21T19:57:00.001+05:30

Of August rushes
Of Junes and Julys
Of the raspberry popsicles
Of the blueberry muffins
Of shallow lakes
Of cold picnics
Of locked lips
Of oblivion
Of parting shadows

This love, my love changes over seasons
This love, my love donnes new colours
This love is too difficult
This love is unstable
This love is not true love, my love.

~ Abrupt thoughts ~

2009-08-23T20:05:00.001+05:30

The blinds are of a warm yellow shade, blending into the general yellowness of the room. Pictures adorn the walls and doors. Almost every empty space on the right side of the room was taken by those pictures of smiling faces, of silly antics, of puzzled expressions and of those random and candid moments.

The dressing table placed against the yellow wall was filled up. Shampoos collected from an assortment of hotels. Pretty colored soaps packed in inviting wraps. Numerous hair products aligned at right angles to each other. Estee Lauder and Vanderbilt perfumes gathered dust on the top shelf.

The laptop was open. The blue screen of death lit up the screen. The speakers gave out a slight buzz, indicating they were turned on. The sheets of the bed were ruffled, pillows strewn. She lay there helpless, struggling to breathe. Her legs were apart, blood trickled down her thighs. Tears streamed down her eyes. She lay there, violated, unable to move.

Melancholic Celebrations

2009-08-05T07:58:00.000+05:30

Mango leaves adorned the doorway, the threshold was painted a fresh yellow with red markings and tiny red feet were painted inside the house, close to the entrance. It is said that Godess Lakshmi enters the house and bestows her blessings. The house smelled of ‘ghee’, many a sweet-dish made appearances on silver plates quite often. The house was bustling with people. Some invited, some uninvited, some unknown. The women hurried in and out of the kitchen, most of them decked in kancheepuram silk in myriad hues, their curly wet hair, tied in loose knots with thick bunches of jasmine flowers. The men kept to themselves, most of them wearing white dhoti’s while some appeared to be in formal western wear. Peals of laughter could be heard often. “They’re on their way, make sure the girl is ready in time for their arrival.” yelled one of the ladies, sitting in the dining sipping her coffee to the women in the bedroom.
-
She looked radiant in the yellow saree, her locks let loose for the world to see, the bride to be gleamed. With all eyes set on her, she set foot into the main seating area. Her proud parents looked on. He father felt a pang, his daughter had grown up in a jiffy. Her would-be was a typical software engineer, “a good catch” according to many. All the people present came and congratulated her and her fiancé. Some faces she knew by heart, some she had to struggle to remember and some she didn’t care enough about. As they exchanged the rings, her eyes were silently searching for a face she grew up with, her childhood friend and probably the love of her life, Aman. She spotted him sitting in the corner fidgeting with his phone, not once looking up to meet her in the eye. Tears filled up her eyes. People congratulated her on her new life, while she was still holding on to her past life, yearning for something to happen rather. ‘I love you’, was that so hard to say? She looked away and her gaze caught her mother’s eyes, which seemed to be reassuring Nalini of her future or the emptiness of it, Nalini thought otherwise. She felt a hand touch hers, it was her husband to be, her fiancé, a stranger she knew well enough to marry.
-

Love, per se

2009-04-15T13:48:00.001+05:30

A soulless you and a lifeless me,

Sharing a bed, maybe cups of tea.

Cold sheets freeze with subliminal passivity

Isn’t it an example of our objectivity?

A flaccid romance,

Ignores every intimate chance

An impelled hello,

Isn’t our love but, quid pro quo?

A blistering accusation

But, to indifference, there is no salvation

A happy visage,

Is but a mere mirage

Cold dinners and unopened bottles of wine,

Pinching silences and yearnings of my heart’s confine.

A soulless me and lifeless you,

Sharing a kinship, we hope wasn’t true.

Of you, of love.

2009-04-05T21:16:00.002+05:30

Refreshing my in-box,

Waiting for your mails...

the humble hellos to make me smile and blush.

Staring into the blank walls,

Imagining crisp hearts floating around...

A feather pillow is all it takes to take me up into the sky.

Singing half a duet,

Mulling over lyrics...

waiting for a voice to finish it with me.

Sitting by the blue sea, on the wet sand,

Cool waters, caressing my feet gently...

waiting for a quiet peck on my cheek.

Lying on the rocks,

Looking at the stars...

Searching for a hand to hold mine.

___

It's been a long time, since I wrote anything. College, exams and work have gotten the better of me and I just found some own time for myself today. I determinably sat down to write and this is what I could come up with, at best. :| My hello's to you. Yes, you, the one reading. :)

Books. Men. Other Men.

2008-12-16T20:52:00.002+05:30

I celebrated my 19th a couple of days back, and I am still not done feeding hungry vultures who keep screeching, 'treat'. Well, the best part of the birthday was my mother. Well, not HER, but what she gave me. She gifted me two books.

'The White Tiger' and 'The Inheritance of Loss'[Old one got lost]. I am not going to talk about the books, just yet. I have yet to finish up on Tiger. Loss, I have very well acquainted myself to, take it in whichever fashion you'd like. Fact: I am reading a book after a really long time and it finally feels nice to flip through pages with interest. Thanks Ma.

I have so many things running in my mind right now. I just don't know how to place it all. I can just spill it all out and then maybe draw figures from it to make sense. Lets see.
I watched two movies today. 1. The accidental husband 2. Rab ne bana di Jodi.

I love Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Shahrukh Khan. I love men like them. All women do. No matter how much I try to break free from the shackles of typical handsome men, I am the most drawn to them, or in the least to such characters.
I love Dean Morgan so much, that I sat naked in the bathroom pouring hot water all over myself and thinking of him in his house, did he have a family, what would he do if I went up to him and told him, I left everything and flew from India, just for him, would he leave his family for me? Yes. I love him. I love the idea of men like him. Quintessentially, men like him and the bespectacled and good at heart Shahrukh's don't exist, or do they?

-

The movies were average, some would even call them filthy names. I, however shan't go so far. The movies were average. If you're like me and you HAVE TO WATCH, a DVD version should do. 85 bucks in a stinking theatre ain't worth this Jodi. Swear.

I still love you, Shahrukh.

-
When I am alone, which is a lot. I keep thinking of things and I keep telling myself to blog about it. Or make a record of those things, but somehow those things are never inked, they just keep floating in my head, here and there. :(

[Very incoherent post, I know. Sorry.]

Books : To lend or not to lend !

2008-10-24T09:20:00.002+05:30

"Whoever has any of my books, RETURN IT. Includes - Complete collection of short stories by Saki, Franny and Zooey, Ayn Rand, M.P. Jain on Constitutional Law and so on. PLEASE RETURN IT!!!!!"

This was a friend's status message on G-talk. I felt sad for her, I felt sad about my plight, again. Whenever books are mentioned, a certain kind of venom begins to flow in my blood, a vengeful me shapes up. And it is because, it is so easy for people to just stamp all over your library, pick up the books they want and waltz away into a never-ending oblivion. It's pathetic, really.

As a kid, I remember having a lot of baby books. Those Infantile, hard-cover and lots-of-cartoons books. Best of the lot, ones my mom and dad would pick up from every country they’d visit. I read them as a kid; I kept them as a growing child. They were stolen by my playmate. Did I use the word “stolen”? Yes, I meant to. I was in 3^rd Grade I remember, and one fine day I am unable to see that big pile of books in my room. The next minute, I see, Apple[the girl] sitting on her verandah and placing tick marks on some books, I went to ask her if she wanted to play and she was like, No I am correcting MY books that MY CHACHA got me. Hell, your books? And Chacha, who was she kidding. Sure if her Chacha gave her MY books. I haven’t seen her in a long time. We moved to another place by the time I was in fourth grade. To this day, I have dreams of threatening to kill her if she doesn’t return my books back. I wonder which “raddhiwala”, her mom gave away the books to.

Of course lessons like these are not learnt so well by a person like me. I am a people-pleaser. So over the years I have lost many an expensive book. Notably are a huge collection of Maugham and Wodehouse, and Kafka. I keep reminding them to return my books, but all I get to hear in return are muffled hmms and ummms. GIVE THEM BACK. GIVE THEM BACK.

Books and book owners are not to be messed with. Trust me, because if I do not get my books back, I will do what the law forbids me to. Kill. So whenever I see a status message like that, it brings back memories of all the beautiful books I have lost. With those memories springs up anger and resentment. If it’s not yours, it’s not a collection. I don’t know what these people who borrow wish to achieve by not returning! Gah.

Books, you’ve been buying from the money you saved from your itsy-bitsy pocket-money. Books you bought when you were happy, books you bought when you were sad, books you bought when you were bored. Books you were gifted. Books you bought as a gift but couldn’t let go of and kept them with you! Books to remember your childhood by, books with red ink tick marks on them. Books with taped front pages and covers, books you’d hide from your parents. These are all those things that books stand for me.

Those musty old books are precious to me. The smell of books is like perfume to me. On lonely nights it is my cure to drown into them. I love seeing lose colourful covers lined up in my library, I feel like a mother.

So if you’re reading this, OH BORROWER’s, please return my books.

A bitter you

2008-10-16T20:34:00.002+05:30

What was gone... has now come back
As faint traces keep showing up here and there...
The past keeps hunting you down,
pushing you to run faster, ultimately getting the better of you
You find yourself submerged in guilt and mistrust,
but face the world with a self righteous exterior,
disguising your sins, your crimes.

2008-09-14T15:10:00.003+05:30

Congratulations to Vatsap,

Oh and this is my 100+1th post! :))

2008-09-07T00:18:00.002+05:30

The ex.
Why should I even refer to you as one? You certainly don't fit the category. All you did was turn the lights on and off for two years. [Nothing pervy, please.]

You're just a guy. A regular guy. Why did I bother ? Gah!
Just when I was falling again, you retracted and I fell, Thud! With my face flat on the ground. Hoping, Ill escape with minor bruises, or not. Lets see.

2008-09-05T22:31:00.005+05:30

Reading this I got thinking, about things I did as a kid, the numerous 'evil' actions, the things which still give me an eerie feeling. All those things I did, with no sane reason.

I remember as a child, I used to like being parental, at least in that certain phase of my childhood, when I was about 8-9 years old. I loved, carrying babies out on prams, holding them, baby-talking and all that. Both my parents worked, and I was used to being alone at home after school. There were these couple of aunties, who'd popped out babies that time around and I would visit their house and take the babies out, play with them. So, this one sunny afternoon, I asked the aunty, if I could take Ishu out for a ride in his pram and took him out. I took the baby out on the road and wheeled it across, in a swoosh and I kept treating the pram like it was a toy car, I was trying to race. Bad things happen. :)
The baby popped out of the peram and fell onto the road. Strangely enough it wasn't crying but looking around with a puzzled expression. I quickly picked it up, lulled it and took it back home. No bruises, so no confessions, gave him back to his rightful owner and went back home, as if nothing had happened. This other time, I took a 2 year old kid to the swings, put him onto one and "entertained" him, he seemed to like the speed and all that jazz, so I increased it a little and boom! He fell and started crying. Nothing happened to him, but he started crying. Shushed him up and took him for an extra long walk [Yes! I carried him], gave him a big bite of the Toblerone, dad got me and he forgot all about the fall!
I am hoping, I am not this bad with my kids! :D

I was about 8 years old when my dad bought me these amazing red coloured roller skates, I was flaunting them around and rolling my way across the house, when my sister, stopped me and asked me if she could try them on once, I just pushed her to the wall. Nothing major, just pushing her against the wall. But somehow, whenever I think of the look on her face, it makes me feel immensely guilty. Mostly because, she did not react in a rude manner, she just subtly agreed and went about her work, she just looked sad. I don't know why I pushed her. Why did I so meanly pushed her and just left the scene. The thought of that innocent look on her face kills me a little each time.

I had an intense jealous streak in me, when I was a kid. If my mother would buy two chocolates for me and my sister, I'd crush my sister's chocolate a little before giving it to her. For that matter, ice-creams too. Why would I crush it? I just needed mine to be all neat. Weird and mean, I know. It was a long time ago.

Thanks Mac, for the topic! :)
Cheers.

Jolted back into writing. Tags. #@!!%^

2008-09-02T20:25:00.023+05:30

Ashkrish! The idiot, who studies Law in a blue city, tagged me. So here I am, again, tagging more people. Goodness Gracious. &#&#&!*.

My Age :

Well not exactly 18, in another 3 months, Ill be 19. So. Let's just say 18 now shall we?

I am passionate about :

My favourite Place:

Yumthang Valley, a magical place, right out of heaven, probably.

I have a thing for :

Yes, chocolates. Not feeling guilty at all. :)

My comfort zone :

:))

My favourite animal :

My kind of art :

The town where I was born and the town which brought me up :

Warangal

Dehradun

The town where I live :

Not exactly a town, a metro actually. :D

A past pet :

It was a street dog. Sheru, as called by the kids.

A past love :

Albeit it's wrong to call him "past".

Current Love[s] :

Best friend's nickname :

I want :

Screen Name :

A bad habit :

A Dream :

First Job :

I Miss :

It shouldn't have gone off air. :(

What I'm doing right now :

the net :P

It took me exactly an hour and a half to compile this list. ASH!!!! Ur so dead :P :P

I shall send this wrath to :

1. Vatsap
2. Divya
3. Macabradey
4. Abhijit, here's to the interning days. The "kaana-raja" of the office. :D

:)

Flames

2008-08-01T08:01:00.002+05:30

The flames still flicker,
the wind causes them to
Hoping for them to burn out,
I wait, in silent frustration

The boat's swung in turbulent sea,
the strong waves rocking it about
Hoping for calm weather,
I wait, in a strange devotion

The rivulet's are gaining volume,
the silt's struggling to keep by
Hoping for the water to recede
I wait, in a silent wail

Why did you have to come back?

Conversations of me...

2008-07-07T20:39:00.002+05:30

I just want to be in love.

8:20pm The Mocking Spirit

I want to be loved.

I want to be in a committed relationship.

I want to be kissed.

I want to sms an I love you to someone at night

8:21pm The Mocking Spirit

Well.

Life is a mess that its supposed to be.

8:22pm The Mocking Spirit

You know. It is really sad that we don't love the person who loves you.

Wouldn't it have made things a lot easier?

8:25pm The Mocking Spirit

And sometimes when you keep looking for it, it does not come to you.

It teases you.

8:25pm The Mocking Spirit

Its only when you stop searching that you find it staring right into your eyes.

8:26pm The Mocking Spirit

Its a shame, it isn't easy.

A letter to you...

2008-07-06T01:07:00.003+05:30

I love you, more than anything in this world. But things are not turning to the way thats good.

I don't know if you love me enough. I want to believe that you do. Why is that you can't make up your mind? Why is it that for once, you say those three words to me first without being prodded or pushed into saying it. I feel the need to move on. But don't know if I ever can. I feel like I'll always be connected to you.
I sometimes see myself growing older with you. Sitting on the rocking chair, listening to you talk about things. It seems like a sweet feeling. Only pungently sweeter now.

2008-07-02T21:55:00.002+05:30

A million promises unmade jingle, unceremoniously.
A thousand hopes do raise, adding one more line on the wall,
I made a mistake, I said sorry...
He, who doesn't care, sits there expressionless as usual.
His silence seems to overshadow my inner chaos.

Was flipping through my old journal... found these lines written across, think I haven't published them yet.

Keep Walking

2008-06-24T09:53:00.003+05:30

That tag line, always makes me redirect my thought process to 'moving-on'. Isn't that something we all do? And when we can't, we have a zillion friends who pop out from nowhere, prodding us to. To move on, that's what we are all expected to do. See something sad? Move on. See something good? Enough of the show, move on.

That phrase is so stuck up and so necessary, that all my life, I've told myself to move on, yet found myself hung on to past memories in an inexplicable fashion. I tell everybody, I've moved on, but there I am, trying to win the game, to prove it, when I haven't. I have pretended to move on so much, that I am unable to move on from the things I wish to.

Dad gets a transfer. Have to leave a place with people you've grown up with, played with, fought with, cried with, shared with. But it's okay. Move on.
Come to a new place. Make new friends . Schools over? Move on.
New college. New friends. Some old. Still move on to fresher memories in the make.
Moving on. Is it a part of human nature? Or a 'nature' forced upon. What if, this once. I don't want to move on. I want to live in the past memories. Then?

This moving on that we do. When does it stop? When can we not 'keep-walking'? Is it the sole purpose of our life? To find newer retentions?

Yeah you and I both know the damned protocol. Just Keep Walking.

Let me know...

2008-06-17T19:58:00.002+05:30

I am looking for signs all around me...

One hint, a warning maybe?

Make it easier. Why don’t you just tell me?

The stars are shining at their brightest. Only, a little too bright.

My eyes hurt, looking for clues, connecting the dots...

It’s hard reading between the lines.

Your antics bother me...

Your sudden silences, trouble me. Why don’t you just say it out loud?

This game, this maze is falling apart. It’s fun no more...

Because somewhere down the line, I feel like I’ve lost you and much more.

Let’s end it here. Right here.

I’ll call it quits if it pleases your ego.

Please just let me know. Make that closure from your lips.

2008-06-15T22:08:00.001+05:30

Sometimes, it helps to talk.

Go away...

2008-06-09T22:53:00.004+05:30

You should have left for Bangalore. It's going to be a hard day's work, with you and I both in the same city.
With you some miles away, memories would have faded into oblivion a lot faster. It's going to be hard to control myself from sending you a message, to feel like a fool each time.
To feel that love stinging every vein in my body. To want to forget, is just not going to be easy.

Oh! So you're staying back for that girlfriend of yours? Well, that makes it all the more painful for me doesn't it? It's unfair, what you are doing to me. I still haven't healed, you are taking away the chance for me to. You're going to be happy, I still haven't healed.

Don't offer me your balm. It really burns.
Just stay away. Please go away to Bangalore or at-least lie to me that you're there. Keep those snippets of yourself with you. Change your number, do something, rid me of this affliction/addiction.

Office romance, pure day dreams. Unadulterated.

2008-05-21T17:21:00.004+05:30

It was 8:00 am by the time she left from home to the workplace. It was her first day as an internee. She reached the office by 9:15am, she knew she was late. As she went to the second floor, the office boy greeted her and she explained to him unasked, the purpose as to why she was there. He acknowledged it with a smile and went about with his coffee cups on the sparkling blue tray towards what seemed like the kitchen.

She walked towards the single door labelled, 'Editorial'. It was a big, centrally air-conditioned room with the state of the art office decor and latest desktop sets. She looked around and found no one in sight. She silently seated herself on the sofa there. She wondered where everyone was, right when the office boy then told her, everybody came in late. She continued sitting silently and she flipped through the newspaper kept in front of her. News interested her and so did this news organization. Her thoughts about the Congress were interrupted by, 'Are you waiting for something?'. She looked up and she almost lost her senses as he she saw a lanky yet handsome guy looking at her in a puzzled expression. She did not say a word, in fact, she couldn't muster up the courage to. He asked again. This time she told him that she was the 'new intern' and placed a file in his hand. He looked through it and pulled her into his arms and said, "Will you be mine forever?"

She said, 'Yes'. She felt her heart lighten and her hands grow unassumingly heavy. A stack of press releases were thrust. She looked up in confusion, it was her mentor, prodding her to go get some work done.

:P

Interior Monologue III

2008-05-13T22:59:00.003+05:30

You are 6'2".
I am 5' 4".
You still are the smaller person.

I love you.
Send-Via multimessage
- Via standard message
To: A bag of crap.

I love you. I don't.
I do. I don't.
I don't. I do. I do. I do. I don't.

Too bad your life is a confusion too.

So you think you can be an asshole?
Yes.
Correct answer. You win a penis.
Two more questions to go before you get your balls and you'll be on your way to become a man for real!

Please turn over a new leaf.
P.T.O.
'Wait let me bring my old notebook'

You have a charming smile, bitch.
You do too.
331 rupees: full talk-time, what a waste!

Tashan

2008-04-27T21:01:00.003+05:30

Who? What? Where? How? How? How?
It is not a bad movie. Its plain ajeeb. Ek dum wierd.

Why a short post ?!
I don't have much else to say. Well, consider it to be my 'tashan'. :P

Update**
Mail today -Disclaimers

Sripuram, Golden Temple/Swarna Devalayam

2008-04-14T17:20:00.004+05:30

After what seemed like two hours of boredom, stuffed in a Qualis with a bunch of adults, and two boys, whose sole intention in life was to kick around a spherical sack of air all over a field. Oh yes, 2 packs of Kurkure and 4 packs of Bingo, we reached Vellore. Sripuram Swarna Devalayam, was the place where we were headed, by the way.

Honestly, from the outside, the first thing that caught our eye was this humongous palace like restaurant, Sri Annalakshmi Hotel, pure vegetarian :P. Well anyway! That was not it. So my folks got down to take the Darshan tickets and we waited barefoot, hoping we could get in faster. All around, it was like a typical Vaikuntham Complex scene, and as we went in the scene changed into being something which was totally out of this world, like some Mysore Maharaja's palace and those long free courtyards in Jodhaa Akbar. We walked and walked through a star shaped pathway and by the side, these spiritually enlightening boards kept our eyes some company. The area enclosed in the star shaped pathway was beautifully landscaped. With stone sculptures from the bygone era and stragetically placed flowers and crafted highs and lows. The blue mountains in the backdrop brought more appeal to the entire setting. The inner parts of the temple complex had the main "Gopuram" set in the centre with water around it. And the walk towards the "Gopuram" made into a natural circumambulation. The line moved slowly then and I was only glad, because overlooking the pool of water and the pure gold Temple reflecting through it was treat for the eyes. It kept getting darker and the more beautiful it kept getting. Coins and Notes were thrown into the pool and to my surprise I even saw some business cards floating around! And as we walked towards the main deity, it was only more pleasurable than Tirupati, because the staff was genial and the at the same time had control of the crowd, as each volunteer smiled and told us to move on in English, Telugu and Tamil, we only felt obliged in a nice way! :)

Post darshan, we recieved Prasadam and then we walked back through the same star shaped pathway, which looked all the more beautiful with the lighting.

This Temple is a photographer's delight. Trust me. If only they allowed cameras ! :(

***

View photos : Arun Vijay Kumar

Mail today : Disclaimers

2008-04-12T21:05:00.010+05:30

Mail today : Teenage Chennai girl vents her angst .
LOL.
I feel the need to put up disclaimers.
I am NOT a depressed soul :P
I am NOT going to commit suicide or any such thing. I love the life I am living. Its kinda fun.
Poetry is just a way I vent my pent-up emotions, Once they are out, they are OUT. I am an aspiring Journalist and one day maybe a fulltime poet! :D
"the suicide of a 16- yearold- boy whom she knew in school sends Mocking Spirit further down the abyss as if she wasnt half- way down already"
No. I am sad he had to die such a way. Usually people get upset when people they knew die. Period.

Anyway, thanks Mail Today for calling my blog, an interesting read and I sympathise with you in all ways about the issue you wanted to cover. :)
Thanks for the free publicity. Really. :)

Update**
The Link is back. :O

Interior Monologue II

2008-04-12T08:59:00.002+05:30

You started it.
No, you did.
Bull shit!

Some words are definite.

***

I love you.
Really?
Yes.
Go suck on eggs.

***

Blue. Green. Blue. Green. Red.
Mixed up.

***

It's a beautiful night,
you see that?
No, I can't. I am blind.

***

That's a blur. Re-take. Use flash.

***

The phone is ringing,
Pick it up.
Who is it?
- Life.

So long

2008-04-06T23:56:00.006+05:30

Walking on the stony path,
I see life at a distance.
I was always running after it. Unable to catch it.
Its like a daze, this existence of mine.

I walk barefoot. The tiny pebbles press against my foot.
Feels like a pin-prick, jolting me back into reality.
A truth that was perhaps oblivious all the while, comes alive
Hits me hard in the head...

I walk down the stony path, to jump across the ledges in a hope to catch life that probably was with me all the while.

Yoghurt

2008-04-03T10:06:00.003+05:30

Its been 3 years since I have been using orkut. I have had my moments of addiction, hate and nonchalance towards it, but not once did I actually click or even think of clicking on those tiny links : Add to crush list/hot list. I see no point really. So you have a crush on this girl, golly! So you add her to your crush list and wait prospiciently for her to add you to her crush list too and you can probably think of living a happy life together... say never ? Its quite a jumble. NOBODY cares about the lists. I repeat, NOBODY except hormone raging 12 going on 13 teens maybe, but they are not people really!
I don't see myself expressing my liking over a click of button. No. Especially when it has to work bothways! :D
This whole "secret crush list" is so OC type and pathetic. Atleast on Orkut. So there are a bunch of lists. If I am stupid enough to add someone to my list, what is the damn guarantee that- that person will add me too? What if he does not give a damn about the lists ? So am I supposed wait all eternity for the guy to be stupid enough or desperate enough to use the feature? Makes no sense. For all I know, the secret could remain a secret till he deletes his account and then vanish into thin air. While I wait. The lists serve zilch purpose. Does anybody use Orkut FOR the lists? No. No. No. Oh dear God! I hope not.

Interior Monologue

2008-03-23T20:58:00.003+05:30

I don't miss you. I leave pretence at the door and enter my home.

______
It was Holi, yesterday. Seeing people around me coloured up gave me the blues. The 3rd consecutive year I haven't played. Next year, I will. I said the same thing the last time.
______

What did you mean, when you looked at me that way, that night? I have forgotten the language of the eyes. Or I misinterpreted it far too many times.

______
Why don't we see in Black and White?
The shades of grey add drama. Close your eyes and green becomes a shade in a black and white film.

Little things

2008-03-19T20:05:00.002+05:30

Little things affect me. I pretend not to care, but I guess they irk me if not "affect" me. I was in a train, and I was telling my friends about this Virgin Mobile ad, which by the way is really funny. I guess I was pretty loud, but its just the hyper-behaviour when I am talking about something I really like.... and there are these three bombaiya chicks sitting somewhere down the time-continum-space[blah] away from us.
I get down from the train and my friend tells me, that on of the chicks[at this point, bitch] was making fun of me!

How dare she! Huh....

Where-ever you are.... you better watch out for me... :x

---

I told three friends this. Abused the life out of them and now I am putting it down here. I feel so light now!

:)

Linger

2008-02-22T00:01:00.002+05:30

Do you have to let it linger ?

You know, I am such a fool for you...

***
It all started a good two years ago...
On a starry night, I think.
Maybe it wasn't. But who cares?
It was a lovely night that happened to be.
When we sang love songs together or maybe a quote or two

Why did the insecurities creep in?
Why did the image in the mirror reflect a half me? Or a half you?
Why did those friends matter so much, when we had each other...
It all started a good two years ago... but would it last? Or did it even start?

Ignorance became bliss
The coins called out to both the sides, until one side got heavy.
It tilted and fell.

I heard knocking on the door that closed out
It persisted
I opened the door.
The vaccum sucked in my entity.
I resisted. I gave in. I fell for him again, on a not so starry night.

History repeats itself.
The doors are closed. Never to open again.

I heard a knock and it stopped right there.

Good-night

2008-02-19T20:13:00.004+05:30

Vinay, a 16 year old commits suicide.

A family friend, my junior in school.
I don't really know how to react. I am blank. I cant really think of anything much. After 13 days of having known this. Its seeping into me now. Its hitting me now.

He found solace in death. So he said.

Goodnight Vinay!

Him and Her : I want a baby

2008-02-14T02:33:00.001+05:30

7:02 am

She was running late. The scrambled eggs on the pan were getting a bit too scrambled. Her hair kept falling on to her face, with an ever-so patient movement, she brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear gently.

The coffee machine beeped, while she was struggling with her scarf. The polka dotted pink scarf, she was gifted on her 23^rd.

7:30 am

She struggled with the door, pulled it forward and locked it. She stood waiting for the lift, it was nowhere near the eleventh floor. She was going to be terribly late. She got down the stairs in a huff, exhausted and got into the cab. The driver gave her an angry look.

7:40 am

Luckily the traffic wasn’t too bad, she reached in time for the train, in fact a minute early. The train would stop at St. Pancras station for a good twenty minutes. She passed by the statue, like she did everyday. The humongous sculpture in bronze; depicting two lovers. The statue held deeper meaning in her life; it delved into the irony in her life.

The train arrived, her mind wandered away, dwindling somewhere in the dark alleys of lost love.

***

Three years ago

Silence lurked in the house. Silence that spoke of betrayal and lost hope. Silence that seemed to resonate, an end.

Breaking up the accumulated silence and discomfort, he asked her, “Why did you do this? Why?”. She sat across the hall, numbness finding its way through. Stricken and guilty she looked away. The pills on the table spoke of resentment.

***

“Lets have a baby”, he said. Five years into their marriage, they were ready to take the plunge. He was. Sitting on the couch, she sipped coffee and said nothing. She heard him, she just did not know what to say. He moved closer and this time he asked her, “Shall we have a baby?”

She turned and said, “Yes, Lets.”. With joy in his eyes and smiling with newfound priorities, he went to the bathroom, pulled out the strip of pills and threw them into the dustbin. She pulled out her purse and placed another strip in it.

***

The train jostled a little and regained composure and she regained touch with “now”. She looked out the door.

A man got in, he had a baby in his arms. He looked delighted to hold her. She got up and walked towards him. She felt like she was sinking, tears rolled down her white cheeks, she pulled out her scarf. The polka dotted pink scarf and put it around the baby and got off the train.

***

She kept walking, she reached the statue. She felt it, she ran her fingers around it and wept to herself, she whispered, “I want a baby”

“Then lets”, he said.

Him and Her : Love you till death

2008-02-03T12:12:00.001+05:30

As he sat on the couch, he looked around the place. The room was full of pictures, of smiling faces, having a pint of beer or all huddled together looking at the camera with unbridled smiles. He liked all of them, reminded him of better times. As his eyes perched from one frame to the other with gathered dreaminess, they did not seem to move on from one frame. The picture unlike the others had only two faces. One was his and the other … they were smiling at each other instead of the camera. He stared at it for a long time and then got up, and picked the photo and cleaned off the dust. He put it down again and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. He saw the strain in the machine dripping rich black liquid into the cup below. He gazed at it, as if to study the contents.

***

They say, you should never deny a pregnant woman’s request. He took her to the beach for a walk. Walking with her was pleasurable, so was listening to her constant chatter about many a things in life, today it was her pregnant woes of swollen feet and hands, as she made gestures. He kept looking at her. She stopped speaking and looked him with a bright smile on her face. He drew her closer and whispered, ‘I love you’ and planted a soft kiss on her cheeks. She smiled back and said, ‘ I don’t.’ ‘ I love you till death!’

They were walking back to the highway, where he had parked the car. They reached the car when he realised, he forgot the keys at the stone. He asked her to wait and he went back to get the keys.

She stood there, with hands on her growing belly, waiting for him.

***

He was looking for the keys, when he heard a cry. He spotted the keys and took them and walked back hurriedly, worrying only to see that she wasn’t anywhere in sight. As he probed further, he saw something. His heart raced as he walked up to it.

***

She lay there. Blood dripping. She was waiting for him to take her home. To take her to, God.

***

The machine beeped, his coffee was ready. He was jolted back into reality. He picked up the cup and went into the nursery to check on baby Rhea. She looked just like her mother.

Of love, of moving on

2008-01-29T09:39:00.001+05:30

Sometimes we love people so much that we have to be numb to it. Because if we actually felt how much we love them, it would kill us. That doesn't make you a bad person. It just means your heart's too big.

[Fay, Riding in cars with boys]

I adore you.
I don't wanna be adored! I wanna be loved.

[If Only]

Ah :)

The hopeless romantic in me is waking up. **Snore**

You wish

2008-01-09T09:24:00.001+05:30

Life has a different way of handing out things to you. You are running in the downs as far as love is concerned and then life dishes out the perfect guy to you, who for once is creative, intelligent and matches your sense of sensibilities. You long to be with him. It happens too. But soon you realise, the perfectness getting to you. The creativity and intelligence ripping yours apart. You feel suffocated. You feel forced. Laughing at his jokes is an ordeal. But he is the perfect guy that you can ever come across. Like a brilliant post-paid connection with free outgoing. What is it, then! That you do?

You wish.

Readers. Please don't leave me and go away! I need you to be there with me. You are my only solace!

Kismet and Karma

2008-01-05T11:53:00.000+05:30

Look! I found something…

What is it? Lines running through…

Supposed to be fate. Isn’t it?

What are you looking at?

The eyes delved deeper,

‘Twas something only she, could fathom…

Something caught her eye.

What? The lines of destiny?

Or the lines she wanted to make?

The dreams she bore at night?

The plans she had in mind? Who knows.

I don't. Do you?

Photograph by:

Rohit Krishnan

New Years and more

2008-01-02T11:47:00.001+05:30

Have I ever expressed my love for Windows Live Writer? Well. I love it.

This New Years was real good fun, went to the best party in India! FOne Party, hyderabad. Was good fun, but its just another year, which will just fly by like it never even happened and Ill be out partying again, probably celebrating the nothings I have achieved in the year, living the horrific moments again or burying them in my personal history, never to dig them up again. Or Ill sit at home, wondering how it would have been to go out, or sleep through the transformation of one year into another. Who knows? I for sure don't.

Look, whats down there... shining?

Looks like a million pieces of glass or raw-uncut diamond.

I touched it, it pricked me. I picked it up, it cut me.

I am bleeding.

What did you say? To not touch it?

Its too late now, isn't it?

I fell down. My eyes stopped seeing. My ears stopped hearing. My lips stopped speaking.

My heart began to fly.

And they declared me dead.

Unromantic rainfall

2007-12-21T09:47:00.001+05:30

I love it when it rains. Like all compulsive romanticists. One of my fantasies is to kiss a certain someone in the rain, no! Not Raja Hindustani style, in a more romatic-er way!

Its been raining for the past four days, initially it was fun and so romantic but, it lost all its glory and grace, a day before from the now! The roads got flooded and my khatarra kinetic decided to give up. It stopped. Right in the middle of the road at 9 in the night, with a million cars honking their honkers off, I was standing all alone in the rain, left to paddle, waddle and babble all by myself. I managed to waddle and bring the b***ch to the drier parts of the road. I kicked it. I kicked it all the more, no it wouldnt start and that precise moment I saw a shining light! And I thought it was my prince on white ghoda... but as luck would have it, it was an old middle-aged and probably sexually frustrated uncle trying to show all his sexual energy on the kickstart of this scooter, Bajaj. Hamara Bajaj!

I screamed and I asked him for help, he was noble enough to drop me to my house. I reach home and my mother is almost in tears. Reason? Worried sick about teenaged daughter, I was spared the hysterics this time. **Thankyou God**

I open my bag and there is a gallon of water inside it and my bechara player fell prey to the conniving water. It is dead now, with water droplets shining from the inside.

Rain! You suck.

Actually you don't, but next time please send my prince to the rescue.

Buddhay

2007-12-12T22:41:00.000+05:30

My birthday is over. My 18th year, had an almost delightful beginning. :)
Happy Birthday to me. I am 18. I am adult. Yay!

***
Why is that sometimes, when you actually do give a fuck to a person, that person does not? Why? Its getting to me now. I might crack up any moment.

2007-12-09T08:46:00.000+05:30

Deepwoods, 07 has come to an end. I am bored now.

Him and Her: The Chinese Connection

2007-11-30T23:24:00.000+05:30

[Image Courtesy: sxc.hu]

She was sitting at the table, looking at the Chinese paintings all around with subdued sadness. She looked at the ring on her finger. She looked at it for a long time, with a lost look on her face. She finally took it out and placed it on the table. The gold wedding band, shimmered with all chroma, and as she looked on, she thought to herself, if she could feel the same intensity and see the same shine in the two years of her married life she had. She got up and went to the rest room.

“7:15 pm”, blinked on His cell-phone’s LED, he was thirty minutes early for the dinner-date that he promised his girlfriend, four days ago. As he sat at the table, wondering and looking at his watch every five minutes. To surprise her, he decided to order all her favourite dishes, he ordered a set of mildly steamed dim-sums and Schezwan noodles. Mildly steamed, that’s how she loved it. He kept waiting and that’s when he took out a shimmering gold ring, with an inscription that read, “Love you, forever”. He took it into his hands and looked at it again and again. Nothing could make him stop from confessing his love to her that night. It was 8:00 already, so his watch read, and He was getting all the more apprehensive and he got up and went outside to see if she had arrived and left the table.

She came out of the rest-room. She had been inside for almost an hour now, crying her discontent away, as she got back to the table, she saw her favourite food waiting for her, she thought it would have been his idea to surprise her. But where was He? Probably a meeting, she thought. As she took to eating the food, her husband arrived with some papers in his hand, She gasped with joy and said, “Thank you so much for remembering”, to which he replied, “Please sign these, our divorce papers”.

***

He saw his love crossing the road, a loud screech was heard and she lay on the ground with blood all over. She was dead. As he stood there watching, with a lost look, the ring fell from his hands. The ring, that belonged to his future.

As She looked at her husband-soon to be ex, tears rolled from her eyes, the ring that she had clutched tight in her hands, slipped out. The life that she had been trying to clutch for two years slipped away.

***
That night, Tables, 16 and 17 got similar bills.

P.S Thanks Vatsap! For the new header :) Don't forget that there are some more headers and some more things that you still have to make for moi! :) Love ya. Thanks again

The Road Blo[g]ck

2007-11-22T10:48:00.000+05:30

I am not 18 yet. You know that and yes I will keep ranting about it!
I do not have a drivers license. Not even a learning license. Now you know and yes I shall rant about this again.
Yesterday I took my khatarra bike out, Kinetic Honda. My folks being the paranoid beings that they are, thought otherwise about the idea of Me+bike+Mad.ras roads/traffic-License!

So this is how I took the bike out.

*tring tring* [Call my mother at work]
Me: Hi ma... Can I take the bike to the station today? Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.
Ma: No da... you know the roads [blah blah blah]
Me: I promise, Ill take the helmet and I promise I won't speed. Please. Please. Pleeeeeeeease.
Ma: [Starts speaking in a tone that borders on hysteria and irritation] See you do this all the time and I am not even there to stop you...[blah blah blah].
Me: Okay thanks ma! Bye. :)

Done. Muhahahaha. But her hysteria gets to me! Uh!

I take the bike to station the first time. Its all good. Its all very good. Except that the helmet really is irritating.

Helmet: Pro's
IF you have an accident, it will help[doubtful] in protecting your physical cranial matter. Grey or white. Humbug.
The black Ninja ones look Dhoom 5 type. :)

Helmet: Con's
Okay this has taken me days of experience and experiments.

1. Loss of perspective. Not that perspective, the view one. :D
Well with the helmet on... I get a very very icky feeling of my 270 degrees vision being impaired. The intuitions of vehicles behind you, just don't "appear/visualise" in my mind. [The khatarra bike has no rear view mirror!]

2. My scalp becomes all sweaty. Its a terrible feeling. Its a feeling of being under constant tension.

3. My oh-so paranoid mother bought a Ninja Helmet, which does look like a Dhoom 5 helmet which does not go with my "feminine" clothes and it makes my head feel heavy. It already is, add the weight of the helmet and at traffic signals, I can't even think of keeping a straight head. Literally, it keeps bobbing due to the weight and the cute guys on Pulsars, probably think I am a retard. Read as fucktard.

Humbug!

Anyway, I don't really see the point wearing a fancy helmet with a bike, thats a living miracle.
The speedo-meter does not work.
The fuel-meter or whatever its called does not work.
The Electric start does not work during the better times of the day.
It needs to be kicked atleast 5 times.
The seat-cover is all torn. And hey! It works. Its serves good! :)

I am tempted to take it out again! Should I?

Say Om Shanti Om

2007-11-19T21:05:00.000+05:30

Well well well. Finally Vatsap and me went for Om Shanti Om. Finally.

***
Plans were made about 4-5 days in advance, the day was fixed for a Sunday. Tickets booked. Then they were booked on Monday and I was asked to bunk classes. :D I did so without any hesitation.

***
Reached 45 minutes before. The theatre was crowded on a Monday! *Blimey* So we decided to go sit at Qwiky's. Talked about many myriad thing and ordered nothing. :D And left. Muhahahaa.. Take that Qwiky's! *Sucka!*

***
Got to the theatre, bore the never-ending saga of advertisements. Read as boring and jewellery advertisments with lame lines. And then OM SHANTI OM! *Whooooooo-hooo* Finally! Finally!
The movie was real nice. You can lose your stomach by the end.

***
The walk to Spencers was interesting. He won! Spencers was indeed on the side he pointed to. Humbug. Pani-poori, Vadapav and Kachori. We were done. Walked in circles in Phase1 or 2 or 3 never really noticed. Sat. Talked. I think I bored him a little. :D

***
Walked towards the *place* where we could hire transport to get back to our respective homes. I decided upon an Auto but took a share-auto. I am so proud of myself. Yippie. Said good-byes.

***
As the musty smelling SA trudged along, I gathered that the guy was a real pervert. [Rear-view mirror asshole]. As I tried to stick my ass on the tiny seat, I realised Life is indeed beautiful :) . Humbug. Anyway, so the boiled potato smelling SA dropped me home. Safe and sound and a little violated. :P

***
To the random passer-by and also people who are reading this. I am sure you are thinking you have better things to do than read this piece of crap. Too bad. You finished reading it. Muhahaha. Move along.

2007-11-12T20:42:00.000+05:30

Turning 18 was an exciting thing about three years back. I am 17 now, will be 18 in like a month and it does not really seem all that exciting now. I blame the adults, read as :just above 18, twenty, and above twenty five: for snatching away the innocent excitement. Well not really, but excitement? Yes. These “adults” just sneer and say, “So? You will be able to go for an A rated movie legally and you can consume Gutka and Tobacco too” or some just say, “Right! Go vote..whatever”. I am excited alright!

Wandering away from the above topic, I sorta miss some of the old things I have grown up on.

Good Ol’ TV:

Normal cable television with a normal remote for scanning, simple and fewer number of channels. Now its Tata Sky, with an exclusive categorized menu, plus games, plus more crap. Tv is not Tv anymore..Dilemmas concerning the shows are so scary. Am I to watch The Simpsons or Fullhouse or Lagegi? I feel lost while watching TV. Literally.

Tinkle was just Rs. 10:

Whatever happened to the modest pricing of Tinkle? It kept on increasing every damn year. 10<20<25<45.>L

Maggi. The plain yummy Maggi!

I remember one thing, taking Maggi to school was a big thing! It was a matter or pride and subject to special occasions and everyone used to go ballistic if someone brought Maggi for lunch and remember the excitement in the morning when Mommy gave Rasna in the water bottle?

Now, I see the bad variants of Maggi on the counters of every super-market! I want my old Maggi back!

P.S Has anyone tried Maggi rice noodles? Don’t! ^Remembers the feeling and pukes^

Barbie Dolls

When I was around 5 years old, even thinking about owning a Barbie was a matter of ‘financial concern’. But within 7 years I made a brilliant collection, which now is stored in huge suitcase, up the attic.

It shall be inherited by my daughter or my gay son. :D

Tak-Tak Chappals

Well in normal translation, High heels!

I used to be extremely fascinated by high heeled shoes. Inspiration: Teachers!

I used to bug my mother to buy, “tak-tak chappals” as I used to call them. I had a dozen of them!

Now I have only two pairs of decent heels. The rest are flat heeled!

Video Games and Pocket Tetris:

Remember the big boxed video games with wired Joysticks and a big black wired “gun”? I was gifted one. The cassette was 64-in-one and I used to play Super-Mario for hours together. I still love that game! And the pocket tetris? The plastic “games” with a weird screen! Everytime we used to go out, we used to buy one!

Where can you get those now?

Playing Teacher-Teacher:

Emulating my, “oh so perfect teachers” and wearing Mommy’s duppattas and her high heels, teaching invisible children, hitting them and writing on the, “black-board”! I spent 10 years of my life doing that!

Movies, the old charm

Relishing movies like DDLJ, Hum aapke hain kaun. I remember going out for a movie was a big deal, coaxing Papa to buy the tickets and jabber with excitement the whole damn day! J

When “Ullu ka pattha” was “OMG”

When “ulla ka pattha”, meaning literally, “a darn owl” was a forbidden swear word and was counter attacked by a thousand, “Mummy ko bataunga, Hoooo!!!”

Lunch-box was exclusive, not to be shared:

Lunch-box sharing was something on the lines of a crime. No one used to share. I remember expecting people to share, but Nope! [It was usually out of selfishness] but reasoned with as, “Mummy ne mana kiya hai” and “Ismey toh dawai hai!”, Sheesh!

Birthdays

Come birthdays and the entire class wanted to speak to you, sit next to you and for the extra candy, they would even praise you!

The first on-screen kiss

Remember Raja Hindustani? The 3-minute kiss! It was the first, 70mm on-screen kiss I saw and I really did not know the concept by then! All I knew was I had only heard, never seen!

Limericks and dumb games

Playing things like, “Aao Milo”, “Ham cheese something”, “Raja Chor Sipahi” and finding out who farted by reciting, “Aada padha kisne padha”. Lol! I can’t believe I did all that.

^tries hard to erase those embarrassing memories, on second thoughts No! leave them be!^

Some of the few things I grew up on. Remember “Tehkikaat”, every Tuesday on DD?

Who is to blame?

2007-11-07T09:04:00.000+05:30

How did it all go wrong?
Where did it all go wrong?

One gaze into your eyes,
would leave me blushing...
Now all I see are reflections of regret

What did I do?
Why are things at such cross-roads?

One moment's caress
would lighten up my skin...
Now its just icy cold numbness finding its way through

When will this end?
Who is to blame? Is it you or me?

The dances we danced...
the sweet nothings we whispered, the kisses we planted ever so often
Why are those memories now walking into oblivion?
Now its nothing but lifeless bodies, crumpled sheets and coffee gone cold.

Who is to blame? Is it you or me?

Unexplained Writing

2007-10-24T20:05:00.000+05:30

Everything that mattered to him lay there on the white tiles. Silent. Still and bleeding.

The smoke coming out of the barrel was smug and light; a few moments later there was nothing but the silence. The silence kept growing.

She got up to see him weeping. Weeping like a battered child.

She moved a finger towards him. It just passed through him. She sat next to the plain white body. The blood trickled towards her. It just passed into her without staining.

The pans and bowls lay in the basin, waiting to be washed. The hot dinner was now cold, waiting for someone serve it. The candles flickered and gave up. The wine spilled itself on the table. A silence reigned over the house confirming the permanent change.

The refrigerator doors had a dozen smiling pictures, moments captured onto glossy sheets. Moments of love, caring and togetherness. Love notes strewn all across the door, waiting to be read time and again.

Resting under the once-smoky barrel of the pistol was a tiny piece of paper, which said. Love you forever and forever Rick.

Saturation levels

2007-10-23T10:03:00.000+05:30

They are ashamed of their daughter, how could she have sold something they treasured. Her father is ashamed of her. He is not talking to her anymore. He flinches when he looks at her. They are waiting to throw her out of the house.

She thinks she is the elder one and the wiser of the two. But is she ?

She feels that she is useless.

He loves her. He loves her. He loves her. She loves him. She loves him. She loved him. They are incompatible.

She loved him. She told him. She fought with him. She patched up with him. She still loved him. She fought with him.

Happy Days

2007-10-16T14:15:00.000+05:30

I just saw this movie called Happy Days [Telugu], another natural and a beautiful one from Shekhar Kammula. Seriously I love that guy and his ideas and his movies. I am just into college. Its been like 3 months, and I felt that the movie totally was made for me, I could relate to everything! The close friendships that get formed within weeks, as if those friendships were destined to be... The jokes, the first loves, the crushes, the bitches, the jerks. It was like a piece out of my own 3-month old college life!

How best friends falling in love is a transformation and not just falling in love for love's sake, the practicality of issues in life and how we deal with them normally, its yet another natural movie with the most natural moments. I am thoroughly satisfied and seriously so HAPPY with the movie. It has inspired me in so many ways!

A brilliant piece of work. Goes on my shelf and it is definitely a must watch!

Love you Shekhar!

2007-10-11T08:50:00.000+05:30

Lost in the depths..
depths in the dark, depths of fear
voices scream...and plead for a hearing
trapped beneath the glass
its all but another hushed silence
silence resonating the wounds and hurt
silence sucking the life out of me

I am back after the exceptionally long sabbatical that I took. I needed the break because my thought flow was dying. Too much has been happening in my life. New college, friends, parties that it has left me with little time to think about anything lately. I am back. I am back. I am back.

Sometimes, actually most of the times, life has something else in store for us. What we think and what we do does not really matter, maybe they do, they help life put together what it has in store for us. This might not make sense. It does to me. Anyway don't pay attention to this stupid kid. Go ahead and read other blogs which might actually have something useful... he he

p.s. I have become insane.

Bah! Tags....aaaaaagh!

2007-09-15T09:21:00.000+05:30

For the fear of being cremated by some jerk called Mark IV apparently, I am doing this crap stuff called Tagging. Damn you Mark!

I was peacefully sipping my coffee and relaxing for a while, away from the blog world when this stupid stupid Mark decides to Tag me! Ouch!

Anyway, I do not wish to be "cremated" so...

Its Vinayaka Chaturthi today, happy happy joy joy (I do not make sense, deal with it!)

Alright I am gonna just ease the pain for you guys and Tag, no question answering stuff!
-Abhas
-M
-Amrit
-Sophie
-Jean, the junior!
-DV for the stories that make my day!
-Noemaun, for the daily dose of bitchiness and the ever-so(much) information provider!
-Saira

P.S. I shall blog soon. Wait up for sometime pleeeeeeeeeeeej! :P No really I shall.

Crap!

2007-07-28T09:53:00.000+05:30

Sitting in the airport [Jet privilege member lounge]. Duh! The only thing good about this place is the internet. Other things available here comprise, old men-strange food-old men-strange "staff"-old men-old men-old men! Darn it!

Well, after two years of living in the so called "metro" and without having seen even some junior artiste in a B-grade tamil movie, I see Chitra, a personality amazing enough to reckon with. Yes the singer. I am excited about that, I thought I would go to her and have a conversation or something but something stopped me. Rather the lack of something stopped me rather, guts. Yes. Yes. Guts. I dint have the guts to go and do that. Huh! Balls...oops Bravo! to the journalist in the making. After taking an "illegal" picture of her from a "safe" distance, which by the way is a total blur, I scurried off to the so-called "privilege-member lounge" which is nothing but a place filled with old men, wait! Am I implying that I am missing looking at cute guys in here? You're damn right! I am! The story is sad enough, I log on to the "internet" and I "try" to log on to the Orkut, a flickering hope in a room filled with middle-aged men, but some wierd ass audible java script, screams: " Orkut is blocked! You silly bugger, Muhahaha". *Fuck!*, the old men I talked about look at me, grin and get back to talking about shares, market price and blah! And I sink. Sink. Sink more. I have disappeared by the way. POOF

!

2007-07-14T18:13:00.000+05:30

Long time since I thought about things. I don’t seem to have anything to actually pen down. Either I am lost or I lost it. *Boink*

Damn it!

2007-06-24T10:20:00.000+05:30

Always been unlucky in love, I really don’t know if luck has any bearing on my choice, well if it does, then I am not so blessed. In fact I am “un-blessed”. Plenty of bad luck is like a ‘forte’. Chuckle. Potentially, all the men/guys I loved, well! Liked turned out to be such morons! Its like I specialize in choosing the wrong guys for the wrong reasons. They would not suit me or in some cases I would fall for such guys who would not find me to be suitable! Funny world eh? Now let me continue with my rant!

I recently joined college, with quite the determination to NOT fall for any guy, heck! I couldn’t help it though, especially owing to the fact that Madras Christian College has some real cakes, all kinds of flavours and some spoilt too, before I forget to mention! Anywho! Let me drift away…So I meet a couple of seniors, all such “Oh my god” types, but I go fall for this one senior who has these amazing eyes, he is well behaved and smart, so perfect that I suspect he is imperfect! I am thinking of leaving the mad crush right here, before bursting my brains, energy and heart behind him, because as far as my luck is concerned, it does not take good liking towards me, I am pretty sure, if I do anything about him, it would call for as a recipe for “Disaster”. My luck! My heart! My emotions! Darn it!

INGILIS

2007-06-14T18:41:00.000+05:30

Some people will pelt stones at me for this post, some may agree with peals of laughter or some may roll up their sleeves and raise their eyebrows, and approach me menacingly, or some may just ignore it as BLAH. I don't care though. I am writing this up because I am high, high on the INGLIS, yes not English, that I come across everyday, and that too experiencing such rape, by educated people.

One of my friend's says, "b-ledddddy" for bloody. Her sentence was : "Its paaaainning bleeeeddy". While some "wannabe-s", keep saying, "anywayS". I mean, why the bloody S ? Oops, the "bleddddy" S :P. Some "wear" a fake accent, yes like the guy in the new lays ad. "Say me", very very horribly replaces tell me. All I can do then is, just continue with the conservation, whereas in one corner of my mind. It itches to correct them. Yet I silently bear it all. I bear it, because at the end of the day, the itchy corner of my mind processes it into the slapstick humor section and I have a good laugh. Or I should say, "leff"

Of you, of dreams and of nights

2007-06-11T09:24:00.000+05:30

Been awake all through the night
Let me sleep for a little more while
Through the little night, that there is left…
Let it dawn at least…

The dreams I cherish, are still in their infancy
let me sow the seeds of my dreams once again in my sleep…

Jaage hain der tak hamein…
Kuch derr sone do…
Thodi se raat aur hai…
Subah to hone do..

Aadhe adhure khwaab jo…
Puree na hoo sakee
Ek baar phir se neend mein,
Wohh khwaab boney do…

[Guru, Jaage Hain]

Sleepless nights, I spent them in the thoughts of you…
Your presence still lingers
Hope, once lost is resurfacing
Longingly I look into the time without end
Hoping this eternity would cease and hoping I could just see you again.

[The Mocking Spirit, Of nights and love]

Knocking on my door

2007-04-26T13:26:00.000+05:30

I am just looking, into the wilderness that surrounds me...
Past the shadows that behold me,
Into the light, deprived for so long...
The past is now knocking on my door

I am just looking not allowed to touch...
Mist gathers around and sinks into my heart,
Like icy cold feet trying to firm their ground...
What was past, is now coming back and knocking on my door

The bolt is weak,
Will it let the past rush in ?

The bolt is weak,
Will it sustain ?

I am just watching the time take its course,
I am just hearing the knocking on my door...

Him and Her: A minute's betrayal

2007-03-24T18:58:00.000+05:30

“Flight No. 916W is ready for departure, passengers are requested to proceed for security check”. He obviously didn’t hear the announcement. He was too busy looking at her, this mysteriously alluring woman. Her eyes stole most of ones attention; they looked like they could absorb anything and everything. Or maybe it was just the Kohl she put. She looked stunning. The combinations of black and white never appeased him but on her it was “just so perfect”. He was absolutely smitten by her. She dint seem to mind him staring at her or she was just used to such behaviour. Another announcement was made. She rose to proceed towards the security check and that’s when he realised, he had to go too. He tried hard to keep an eye on her all the way to the security check. She walked into the women’s security checking booth.

As the robust officer moved the metal detector on him…he reflected on his behaviour it was so not him! He had never acted like that but heck she was so striking. Once out of the checking process, his eyes automatically kept searching for her but she was nowhere to be seen. “Sigh!”, he thought. Images of her kept flashing in his mind. Probably she was going to board some other flight. In a rather mellow mood now, he boarded the flight, again; although in a seemingly futile attempt he searched for her and of course his seat 10A. He dint find her but he sure did locate his seat. But someone was sitting on it already. Someone who was reading the newspaper. In frustration he called out, “Excuse me! You are in my seat”. The mysterious woman crept from behind the paper and said, “Oh! I am sorry” and moved to 10B. His heart skipped a beat and he was only thankful that She was sitting on his seat. He sat down feeling like a gladiator, She said “sorry” again…that was enough for him to start a conversation. Apologising again she said, “I probably owe you a treat, What the air-hostess brings is on me, she winked”, they laughed and time flew as they talked about one thing and another.

The flight landed, they claimed their baggage and said, “goodbye’s” and he thought, walking to airport exit, “that was the best journey ever”. He was halfway making plans about when to call her.

Outside the airport, he saw her again…how lovely she looked! How could he ever forget her eyes and the smile? He was in love. She was coming towards him and reconciled with his normal self, she was coming with another man, maybe her friend he thought. She introduced him as her husband.They talked about everything but it .He felt as if his heart was being ripped apart and that’s when a blue Santro brushed past and stopped, It was Reena his wife.

Him and Her

2007-02-16T17:22:00.000+05:30

She sat there sipping her coffee. Hot and rich that’s how she liked it, always.

The LED glowed 7:26 am, 20 more minutes and her train would arrive. That was her routine, reach the workplace by train. She handled that flick of hair on her face and stirred her coffee looking around profoundly as if searching for something or some face.

She was not reading, The Outlook today, it just lay in some corner of her big black leather bag. It looked expensive.

*beep-beep*

She had received a message, as she turned to check it, her eyes caught something rather someone.

He sat there sipping his coffee. Decaf that’s how he liked it, always. She remembered his tastes even now. Numerous questions engulfed her mind, “Why was he here?”, “Did he come to see her or someone else?” She couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to probe after so much had happened. She could not even look at him straight because it hurt her to admit it was her mistake and her ego and that she had walked out on the relationship and never tried to make amends, but she could never resist her love for him.

She looked up at him with moist eyes, he looked too and smiled. (She still remembered how she fell in love; He had come up to her and asked ‘coffee?’) He began walking towards her and she just kept gazing at him. As he came near, he bent a little and whispered, “Coffee? Round two?!” She smiled and willingly obliged.

As they walked towards the coffee shop together, she remembered she had received a message, she checked it. “Will you marry me?” He had asked. She stopped walking and said, “Yes I will”

P.S. Too happy an ending ?! Try imagining, "No, I won't" and tell me what u think could be the reasons.

To be 'me'

2006-12-22T20:42:00.000+05:30

That silent whisper,

speaks to me today,

speaks of the ages gone by...

that moment's smile,

talks to me today

talks about the happiness gone by...

Let me go...run after the butterflies today

Let me do the things...I have never done before

Let me be me...

Blue Quotient

2006-11-15T16:48:00.000+05:30

There are times when,
you just feel so sad and you know the reasons but cant come to terms with them.
It makes you sad.

I am sad.

Into the darkness...

2006-10-19T21:45:00.000+05:30

“Arun! Please don’t go out in this rain”, screamed his mother, but Arun kept walking into the darkness, harsh rain drops falling on his shoulders. The raindrops pricked his soft and tender skin but it was okay…he shrugged and kept walking.

Tensed fatigued and perspiring Arun’s mother woke up, feeling strangled by the truth of it all. Truth? No it was not for real, she had been having the same reverie for the past 10 years of her life, she would go check on him this night too…but it was not like the other nights when his silhouette against wall would reassure her of his presence…this night was different…

Arun kept walking, walking into the overwhelming darkness, he did not panic, he maintained his calm, and yes his mother had taught him so…He missed his mother but he had to go on…

“Mommy! Why are you crying? Please don’t cry”, said Arun, she willingly obliged

She reassured herself of his presence it was not his silhouette tonight it was different but somewhere in her sea of emotions she felt a sting of separation…

Arun kept walking into the darkness, yes into the overwhelming darkness in the rain.

Cup of Coffee ?

2006-09-29T23:09:00.000+05:30

I feel I lost a friend
The thought that I still haven’t lost him is reassuring…
We talk lesser but care more….or maybe lesser…?
Guess that’s more like the friendship we share…
But still the heart yearns for more….
But time stems the flow…

I miss you, friend I really do….wish we could just unwind…over a cup of coffee.

Ps. For you aditya....

Crack

2006-09-22T23:37:00.000+05:30

I drew a picture
The picture that resembled you…

I threw a stone in the water
The ripples showed your shimmering reflection

I caught a bird in my hand
Its eyes showed a glimpse of you

I wrote a song
Its lyrics spoke of you

I broke the mirror
The mirror that showed the sight of me

2006-08-30T16:31:00.000+05:30

I am thinking about:
(right now)
Examsschool,inspection,how to jhelofy the accounts period and how not to sleep in business studies hour and life in general and "Him"

I said:
(recently) Woh ek aah bhar lete hain unki yaadon mein...mit jaate hain gum sadiyon ke un yaadon me...
(Adaab Adaab)

I want to:
(right now) Scream out loud, saying I am worth anything...*sigh* not going to happen... ;)

I wish:
I were a bit more lovely
I had more concentration
I wish I was more considerate

I hear:
Silent Whispers....Hush...

I wonder:
About the world and the idea of life and soul...

I regret:
My weight....*chuckle* No.. I regret my lack of will power sometimes...

I am:
Me...ever mocking.... ;)

I dance:
To my state of mind...

I sing:
(Currently) Tu Bin Bataye...

I cry:
When I am ignored...all alone and sometimes for no reason...

I make with my hands:
Yummy Food...Greeting Cards and jewellery out of misplaced parts..

I write:
What you read...

I confuse:
with myriad things often...

I need:
Love....the other kind...

I Tag:

Abhas...
Sataract
Markiv
Blade
..::M::..
Catch 22
Sophie
Dead Poets Society

The Blogs that I read frequently and I think they are really good.

Note: All the people linked on my blog are coooool...!

Memories

2006-08-10T22:13:00.000+05:30

What do you say? In some way or the other I should forget and let you forget?
The memories of past life…which have encompassed my mind like clouds, clouds that bring the love to surface…
How can I let these memories fade…memories etched in the deepest corners of my heart?

A road you wish to take
A journey you wish to make, alone
But how can I let you go?
When I am yet to discover my path to salvation from this love…

What is that path?
I cannot fathom because I truly believe you are that path
You are everything to me…
Forgive me for my mistakes…and take me back…for a life without you if life fictional

Forget everything ! Forget those moments when love blossomed…
But if you can forget that…
Can’t you forget the misapprehensions?
Forget the pledges and vows we made in the name of that “love”
Forget the trust, forget the desires
But strive if you can to forget the sting of separation…

You will never have bliss without me…
Was what you said when we were in love…
But then…was what you said all a blatant lie?

Those celebrating happiness
Will never forget the sorrows…
So let me be your sorrow for I do not want to be forgotten…

Go where you will go ‘friend’…
Leaving me alone you goBreak away from the binding love…if you can my ‘friend’

An adaptation from a Hindi poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan, called Smritiyan.

Conversations with my alterego....

2006-07-15T20:49:00.000+05:30

Mocking Spirit says:
I am 16
I am a girl
I am a girl with simple dreams
And I am just sick of being taken for a ride…
Being taken for granted
Being called a kid
I am just sick of it…

Me:
You know what MOCKING SPIRIT… GET A LIFE…!

The Mocking Spirit says:
Well I do have a life… but it’s going through downs

Me:
Uh.. come on…!

The Mocking Spirit says:
A lie beautifully told…
A truth hit so hard…. (..................)

Me: (Soliloquy)
Yeah… yeah… something’s never change…! You just got to let them be…

The time will come...

2006-07-14T21:09:00.000+05:30

The time will come when I will find my true self
My true self comprising unadorned happiness
Happiness so surreal
Happiness so unfeigned…

The time will come when lost love will cling back
Love that had always lingered somewhere
Love that was patent…

The time will come when my virtues hold me good
Virtues that now call for blatant chastisement
Chastisement which finds no respite
Respite taken in discomposure…

Hoping for the time to come…
Assuming that the time will come….

Yours Hopefully….

Breakaway

2006-07-07T16:28:00.000+05:30

Waiting inside for hours and hours
Patience running over
staring at the blank walls
I feel like breaking away.

My eyes searching for the truth unknown
Looking and peering through the pitch darkness
I find solace and happiness in not knowing the truth
I thus feel like breaking away...

P.s. Duh...!??

2006-06-22T09:22:00.000+05:30

Offerings of the Tempest

Life has so much to offer
yet it feels so little and vain
there is so much to think
yet no words to express
so many reasons to live on....yet no reasons at all

Cast Unto...

2006-06-18T15:10:00.000+05:30

I cast my light upon: the object of my Darkness
I cast my love upon: the object of my rancor
I cast my looks upon: the object of my replusion
Casting unto my love
Casting unto my hate
Casting unto my perseverance
I called my life into me, my soul

2006-06-09T22:52:00.000+05:30

We met again…
The same silence
The same withered hope within, the same longing and the same emotions surfaced but not a word was said.
Puns expressed indirectly…yet directed with reason.
We spoke as nothing ever happened yet fully aware something did happen.
It was a meeting of irony
But again that hope lingers.
Some day when I will wake up and say, “ Everything is fine…”

Blindfolded

2006-06-06T20:28:00.000+05:30

I cannot see the world for what it is.

I cannot see the morning sheen

Nor, the evening sky.

It’s dark in here…

For, I cannot make out the insignificant silhouettes against the brazen alcove.

I cannot see the birds I hear chirping.

I cannot see the water I hear gurgling.

I feel helpless

I feel lost

It’s dark in here…maybe not.

Or Maybe I am blindfolded…

Life

2006-06-05T17:17:00.000+05:30

Passing through the jaunt called Life
I made mistakes....Unforgivable....not truly
I learnt my lessons from the truths in Life
lies in Life
Doubts in Life

But again I feel I am lost in this life.

Underneath

2006-05-26T10:28:00.000+05:30

Seems like a paradox,
yet seems so real.

A blatant lie...
but still feels true.

Looks like a sparkle lit night sky
but could not be as darker

Thus Behold : My Irony through my eyes
Feel my sarcasm for Life,
But wait this Life does not exist...

Yes that is My Silent Chaos...

P.s. Fiction

Raining...

2006-05-25T14:53:00.000+05:30

Smells like rain falling on earth…
Smells divine.
Exasperated drops fall on soil with unvoiced verve.
Soil lets it seep in with silent dignity:
Profound and reflective…

Contained love withers away
Mourning the deed undone…
If only ‘twas expressed.
The only solace and only hope gives way
I let it, seep in with silent dignity:
Only less profound…than expected.

I cannot hold it anymore.
I do not wish to hold it anymore.

"again"

2006-05-22T09:23:00.000+05:30

One glance was enough to know,
One caress was enough to feel.

The lost love… surged for a second time.
With volatile fervour
Akin emotions… although ‘twas on a novel tenor.
Rekindled it became the joy and the pain.
With recent aspirations, and original zeal
Thus began the sojourn again.

Questioned...?

2006-05-21T22:25:00.000+05:30

Pouring down
Slight tremulous trickles
Fused to the glass pane…
The silent dripping water looked so serene.

The precise moment
My existence was questioned.
Unrequited I retreated…The instance of vulnerability, equated to eternity.

The eyes that speak

2006-05-18T11:22:00.000+05:30

We met...
not a word was uttered from either side.
Just...in between our eyes met so many times in this familiar fashion.
I wondered..."Why can't he just say hi?"
But again it seemed so not feasible.

Just...Hope.
Hope not worth anything or maybe Hope worth too much...?
The Hope of talking again flickered somewhere inside.
again, the cutting truth came on like a blow.

It can never be the same again.

Resurgence

2006-05-16T23:26:00.000+05:30

The beauty of life…
Keeps me going.
I feel so special even though I have been let down many a time.
I feel happy again.
I feel new again.

Hopeless and abhorrent
I felt like giving up on Life…
Something has changed it all.
I feel buoyant again.
I feel cherished again.

I want to once again taste this cup called life.
With an ardent loom.
With a zest to find my lost soul.

I love you…Life once again.

Credit

2006-05-11T17:09:00.000+05:30

..Can you see...the display image of mine.
Isnt it beautiful...?

Well the credit goes to my friend blogger Abhas Sinha.

Abhas I Owe you one for this.
You are good at this...and I appoint you as my Photoshop worker... ;) lol

anyway....keep it up da....

Down Under

2006-05-11T10:30:00.000+05:30

Down Under...
it lay
wanting to burst out
it could have given way...
but it din't
or the circumstances din't let it

'it' was my frustration

When my dad did not shave...

2006-05-08T23:34:00.000+05:30

Well...it was a hol today...a proper holiday...
My dad after so many days was at home...for the whole day without getting a call from the office and thats when he decided to show he was happy by not shaving.
It looked sick! I always see my dad clean shaven and he looks so angelic and benign but today, he looked so Yech!

Well we went out...for dinner...and he still carried this unshaven form.

He looked like a drunkard, who had been forced to change his ways by his wife and daughter....and to celebrate the occassion they go out for dinner....!
Now, a story created out of an unshaven face...

Plain...concoction...

12 'o' clock...

2006-05-07T00:41:00.000+05:30

Everyone was sleeping...well except for me and my sister who just reconciled from this fight...full of aweful insinuations...

Well... we were hungry...! Just eating two pieces of mango for dinner...as part of this whole diet plan! Rubbish....! The fact was we were just plain hungry.

We crept into the kitchen with the least intentions of making a sound let alone noise...Ah...to the great intentions... The whole kitchen...(I presume the whole house too, which my sis thinks is plain nonsense was echoeing) with the clang of a plate falling onto the floor...Oh how I cursed under my breath. Well Mission Make Food. Opened the fridge...to the damn intentions of not making any sound again...the fridge creaks too...now that's seriously crappy. I assured myself not to get overworked over this. Ah lovely ready to eat Aloo Parantha's just wanting to get into our stomachs. We silently (atleast an effort) switched on the gas, we put loads of ghee (Now thats some serious dieting I tell you !!) and put those delicate darlings onto the pan...and they began to make this chur chur sound, which bugged me to the ultimate core of being me.

Finally after much of those efforts, those golden brown yummies was ready...and It was turn to make some maggi....not so difficult to make...although.

Finally we sat down to eat...and fighting for each and every morsel...one could have easily mistaken us for the starved kids of Somalia or something. Lol.

Well....now that was some night.

It was fun for me...
Its so strange that how such a horrible day could have this completely different night to it.

I wonder....

2006-05-06T21:11:00.000+05:30

Ha these are the pics of the Cassette
Well...
It's so hot that even heat god (if there is any) would feel hot man...! I mean give me a break. I was living happily in Doon...why the hell did I come to this Chennai....? Ah fate eh....! Well this total migration thing has not got on to me as yet. I mean its 42 degrees ! Bloody I have not even experienced 36 deg. in ma whole life and now I have to sweat like a pig....? For what nothing practically nothing...all I can think of doing is how to make optimum use of my A/c. (I have no grievances for that part...I mean who does not like an A/c ah...heaven I tell you...the electricity bill though doesnt go well...with this... ;) ).

A demonstration of the heat...?
Yeah well I recently left this audio casette in the car....and next day I just have to accept that my favourite and my most prized possesion got ruined. The whole cassette got twisted...and had a neat crack....!

Now how callous could the heat get man...aaagh...
Now I have some reason to hate the climate here. Some reason to whine about...
Man...! I tell you this heat business sucks.

P.S. Ill post the pictures of the cassette soon.

Its all over....

2006-05-05T21:31:00.000+05:30

What I said...
I said sorry to him. Sorry regarding all the mistakes I did...concerning him. I know I said a lot of things...more than half of which I never meant or infact intented to say. I know I ignored his plea to call him then. I said sorry with all my heart. Yes I agree, I delieberately fought with him...which I thought would make me forget him...the situation quite contrary now. (Me thought like a Bollywood actress).I realize that I did make a mistake.

What he said...
He said...I am busy now. I will talk later.
He said I have no intentions to talk to you anymore. It was my mistake being so nice to you...you din't deserve it. He said u ignored my calls. Now its my turn and stop disturbing me.

My perspective...
I am lost...all the more. Have nothing to say...
I am dodging, questions laid by own conscience.
I can't even be true to myself now...?

Versus

2006-05-05T11:49:00.000+05:30

Things she said.

She said…I was a totally selfish person, who can think only about me and that I have no concern for what others feel. She said that I am far from being a human because no human can do what I did to her. I treat her like a servant and I can never like seeing her succeed. She feels I boss around her. She said…everyone hates me and she can’t because…I mean so much to her…but now she would take a stand and “try” to hate me too. She feels I make everyone hate me…because of my rudeness and because of the same she…feels I have lost many “good” friends.

My perspective…

I have no words to say…She means a lot to me. Actually the only person in the whole wide world…who I actually love and respect so much more than my parents…said I din’t love her. And if she feels so about me then…I guess she is right. What she usually says…is right. Maybe this is too.

I am really lost.

2006-05-03T17:50:00.000+05:30

The temperature is 20 degrees.
I feel exceptionaly cold...ah not exactly cold but yeah...I could make use of a blanket.
I switch on the television: News, Two children die of heatburn in Chennai.
I am like hell its cold...
I realize the A/c is on....finally the news makes sense to me....!

Confusion confusion....

2006-05-03T17:44:00.000+05:30

She has been sleeping.
Since I saw her this morning...(the last time I actually saw her active)
But...she just has been sleeping
With the calm and satisfied look on her benign face...she is tempting me into....
Pulling her ears...and screaming....WAKE UP....!!!!

Ah...wretched feelings...afterall that "sister-feeling" sums up to this.

Destiny

2006-05-03T09:21:00.000+05:30

The song of destiny has lyrics none can decipher.
The vocals, none can attend to
Supercilious and weird…
The song of destiny keeps droning in our lives.

Simple...rather not

2006-05-03T09:18:00.000+05:30

They knew, they had to part
But they couldn’t.
Life has shown its dark colours.

They decided to move away
But knew they wouldn’t.
Life has shown what predicaments are all about.

They knew, they had a serious approach
They couldn’t be more casual.
Life has shown its contrast.

They knew, they couldn’t take it anymore…the severance
Yet, they lived in verdant congregation.
Life couldn’t be more bizarre.

I presume…

2006-04-21T22:45:00.000+05:30

Wait for me...

Love was in the air
'it' happened to him...
He fell in love with those starry eyes, and the soft looks She gave...

Love was in the air
'it' happened to her...
She fell in love with that evergreen gleam he had in his eyes, and the deep intimate looks he gave...

Pure consent
Breathless admission

One fine day...
She waited and waited
wanting to be caressed
wanting to loved
He never came...

With a thousand glittering lamps
she waited for him...
at the neem tree, he never came

28 years later

The gleam in his eyes was lost...
looking pale yet having the same zeal for his love...
he reached the neem tree...
to only find his beloved, with a thousand glittering lamps..

At last he came

Zealous love took its place.

The...silence

2006-04-18T22:53:00.000+05:30

Carnations

She was sitting unaccompanied on the bench…
Her eyes probing for a name…
They say, she had been waiting for almost an hour now…still waiting and yearning to see her treasured.

Sometime back…

He was so eager…he had every raison d'être to be…he was going to meet her…in a few intolerant seconds…
He was looking like a prince…so striking, composed and most of it… he seemed to be having such a blissful look.

Half an hour later…

Shimmering lights
Sweet smell of the crushed flowers he carried
A distant and obscure cry…of pain of agony and of disenchantment…she cherished carnations…yes she did...
Who will take those to her now?

She felt a pang …her heart throbbing…
She felt something was wrong…but what…?
She left…feeling let down…
So she was not going to meet her beloved today…maybe tomorrow…she thought
It was getting late…anyway

As she opened the door…she saw…
Lovely carnations…her face lit up...
After all he remembered…

She was not going to meet her beloved today…maybe tomorrow…?
Someone did send those carnations to her….

2006-04-15T22:13:00.000+05:30

An ode to the “clash”

Trivial frustrations have given way to blatant fallacy
Exasperations of large proportions do not even move boulders
Yet at the moment my silence has eclipsed my interior chaos

I once again smile with emaciated fervour,
Yet having the strong fortitude to obliterate the delusion…I continue

Stark

2006-04-03T20:06:00.000+05:30

Gazing into the moonlit night
The sand, the ocean, and the celestial bodies being my only companions…
I lie back to unwind and imbibe the tranquility of the milieu
My essence wakes up only to face the veracity
The asphalt road, the blood tainted fabric and my cadaver being the only cohort.

The Movie Effect

2006-04-03T20:04:00.000+05:30

A thousand times…is a bit of an exaggeration but I feel no other number fits into what I am about to put forth that beautifully, whenever the movie is over and its time for me to get up and get going…my buttocks do not cooperate well its not their fault but my own as I myself do not wish to leave or get up. I want the movie to be rolled over again and get immersed into it once again.

The joyous feeling of having to witness the life of someone else…characters that amuse you…make you cry and suddenly everything is over and the fact that you have to get back to your own life doesn’t quite seem like a natural possibility to your mind. The three hours or how many ever hours you spend in the theatre…take you to another world and if that again is an exaggeration lets say to make you be the spectator of another life…or lives and by the time you realize you have to get back to your routine and be the watchdog of YOUR OWN LIFE, your “butt pretends to be stuck to the seat” and your mind keeps telecasting the feeling of “I do not wish to go”. Well that’s the magic of movies which give one the power to see someone else’s life and destiny which in itself is impossibility.

Evening

2006-03-06T19:46:00.000+05:30

As I saw the evening sky with its abundant hues and shades all exposing their true selves and forming this utterly philosophical arrangement

The gentle breeze swept through my hair with silent dignity and I looked up at the sky again to meet eternity in the eye.....

Theory

2006-03-06T19:41:00.000+05:30

The Mocking Spirit Unfolds....

She swayed with grace
She swivelled with joy
She tapped her feet in Merriment
She cherished doing that more...now that she grew older

All she knew was that she won't look back
All she knew was that she won't forget

Yes she understands that time will wait for no one so she won't look back and thus the mocking spirit glides in

"Bumping" Journals

2006-02-26T18:45:00.000+05:30

It became an everyday affair that somehow I managed to 'bump' into this guy every morning in honest attempts to jog! The 'bumping' as I pragmatically put in was a kind of a deliberate move atleast from my side...although he was not this "drop dead gorgeous looking" guy but somehow....I had this astonishingly queer feeling spring up....everytime our eyes met.

It definitely was not love neither infatuation....It had something to do with the 'bumping bond' we had in common....!

The mosquito

2006-02-24T19:59:00.000+05:30

it was small and mind you really small.....
and taking circumambulations as I were a goddess.....it perched on me i tried hitting it....but in vain...

Swat!
aha! i hit it......it fell on the floor....how lonely it looked and unseethingly beautiful in this gross way against the whitle marble floor....

I felt guilt surge through....