scribblin on &on..

someone get me that..err the book..

in lurve? yet again..! neva again

nearly got hit by a car while takin this one..

beauty like a lot other things..sells in shops like these

lost woman..random pic!

gimme jus one color, more~

the rose that stared from the window of Hallmarks!

..tempted to turn pink forawhile

tunnels, i would rather sinkin

from where i am, this is what thins luk like..


u emerge from the smoke
and merge within again

i ask myself
if you're the same person
inside & outside the smoke

are you?

the haze turns purple
findin yu, gets harder
my rovin eyes..get
not a moment of rest
findin yu &
buildin stories..

distance shortens
between me to yu..
m 'ere
yet i feel
your warm breath
on my cheek..

there are moments
when i want to go
actively insane
this is one such

i can't help myself
can you?

yasp 6

i pay a heavy toll when i wean myself off from you every night after our longish conversations on the silliest of things, though i know it would be morning in a hours few, i yearn so much to stay back and talk on, and on and on, i am obsessed like insane to these paraphernalia that so signify us, gurgles of bursting laughter, silences that are understood, a certain confessions that are avoided, suppressed obvious bouts of anger, the way we astonish one another, the fragrance that prevails in the air around, the warmth of our togetherness, sounds of midnight bells, sigh my fear of movingg away,

for you, i turned into black, for you the color black became me, you in oblivion have tortured my muteness, my wait for you has eaten into my soul, my conscious has lost itself in tryin to feel you in thin air, nothin but thin air, cold midnight dark air, tearin me from where we were so glued has been a maddenin pain, our split has questioned my survival, believe me, you will not, gettin over you has been the hardest thing..

i have so dissolved into you..can't tell ya..undissolvin doesn even look like a distant question

and you can't even begin to fathom the loss i have gained

The Life & Times of a Rat

I am a total rat. The ones that run that race. A lot of us are. Most of us are. We should thank ourselves. The world should thank us. We run their world. Had it not been for us, things would have stagnated.

I am a perfect rat. All my life I have done things just because other people had done so. (And I so wish people don't get redirected from my Linked-in profile to read this. Anyway) I have been too afraid to follow free will. (Look I am even afraid people are going to read this and that might just could affect my propects. Afraid is just so easy to be, dude!) Or I wonder if I ever had had a will at all. I would have been just a vegetable. I prefer being a rat to being a vegetable. I hope you get what that means.

Other things apart, the fun part is this. There are two kinds of people in this world. Leaders and followers. I am a die-hard follower. I can't lead. I don't regret that can't. But today you need to thank us followers. The leaders drive this world. It is us followers that run this world. According to the leaders, or whatever. Just imagine, what could have happened if every single born rat would have become a leader or would have faked it or something. (You think one can't fake being a leader? I bet a thousand bucks, even I could do that!) Everyone to lead and none to coyly and unquestionlessly follow? With necks bent, doing things and not knowing why, not wanting to ask either. Being born a rat, living like one, and dying like one. Had it not been for us rats, apocalypse would have been just preponed! Thank us..! Long live the Rat Race and make a tonne more like us.

The presence of this picture here is irrelevant. It's here because it had to be here. Gut Instinct. Or probably because the 'rat' sounded not-womanly and this picture could undo that effect and keep the fragrance of my gender, intact.

My political opinion would more often find a vent here, from now. There wouldn't be anything personal to write about. Or so I hope/want.



I miss us. This may sound stupid. Ideally there shouldn't be any space for emotion, should there? Space, there isn't. But yea, in me has formed a void.

Anyway, this shouldn't freak you out. But I miss us. Doesn't mean that I want you back. Whatever was, is probably dead now. Whatever was, was probabaly worth it. The way we smiled. The way we talked on and on till dawn. The way we grew inseparable by the minute.The way we shared dinner, everynight. Oh! Cosy in our world, invisible to the rest, the way we shared our lives a little, hid a little. The mystery kept us going and every next word was so awaited. Our sweet addiction. Oh! I miss us

Our estrangement was too sudden to be felt and understood. One moment we were jovial and chirping. Next we were gone. We didn't realise the pain much. That is why now it looks like missing something tht never happened at all. Like, were we hallucinating or something?

Now we don't want to fret over having lost us, do we? We want to stay happy, for what was. The present is not a present anyway. This pain of missing us, is sweet. We will let it remain in some space inside. And keep it there until it decides to die by itself, but still treacherously lives on as a void..

There is hardly anything more that I could do. Because it would be just too demanding to want you to come-back and never go away again.

For Wickedflower-A Goddess!

searching for poems by nandini
a person who i think i know
i chanced upon your blog
boy, was i lucky to do so.

what clarity and clear confusion
what language and unconventional style
what range and what depth
what are you, a goddess or what ?

wildflower you call yourself
you are wilder than you yourself would know
flower, i agree, with you, since
there is warmth, affection and caress in all that you write.

An Admirer

I quoted only verbatim~ ;)

Lost & other stories


the weather here has been changing for the past couple of days. it's been getting unusually sunny and windy. the sun has shown itself after a three month long lull of winter, it's kind of unbelievable, i am so used to the cold by now. to remind of winter, the winds no doubt re very chilly. that's what i have been trying to write about for the last couple of days, this contradiction. the sun and the winds. it's weird, it's a contradiction.

at night it gets scary sometimes. i never get scared though. the darkness is impenetrable, my candle doesn't stand for long. its flicker dies, subsequently. sometimes, i put it off because i want to be friends with the dark.

so the day before yesterday i so wanted to break this cycle of sun winds and the dark that i broke it. one moment i was wanting to run away, and in the next i was gone. i kept walking through old alleys. naked wires hung across them, from pole to pole. people staring down from their roofs. more noise on the outside, less of which i recognised. more and more silence inside my mind. strangers, strangers and more strangers. i got busy taking pictures. i kept walking and walking. loosing touch with the world i belonged to. becoming a part of another. developing bonds, shredding bonds. i reached cross-roads. i realised i had lost myself. and that moment, i will cherish. happiness in such volumes hadn't visited me in the recent past. i loved the fact that i had actually lost my way back. i wouldn't have to go back.

no, i didn't want to start all over again. but i just wanted to stand there, holding that lost moment in my hands. precisely, live and re-live that frozen moment. that liberation. that reassurance of being lost.


the day before yesterday i felt that i lost you. i had no regrets. if breathing sans you was my destiny, then so be it, i thought. but yesterday, a fear creeped in. my feeling of liberation post being lost had weaned a little. the whole day i felt like writing to you. or about you. but couldn't.
i was scared. i cried before i slept.

but as today touched me, i know that you are coming back. and i am here to wait.

eva's inevitable

i inevitably screw my presentations up. the thing is so obvious to me that i have started trying to guess what could go wrong this time around. this thing has stopped being sad and has begun looking funny altogether. yeah after every single presentation that goes wrong, i laugh out loud and tell myself, i told you so. mostly it is me who is under-prepared. i forget what the fuck i was talking about, right on stage. sometimes i oversleep and have no idea what i am going to blabber. but there are other things too that choose to go wrong. the videos don't play. even if they do, the speakers dont work. the anti-virus has to give all its alerts when i am presenting. sometimes the computer feels like restarting all of a sudden. the projector ditches me, at times. pendrives go undetected. laptops run out of their battery back-up. slides get mashed up. besides other things!

lately my acads have gone all wrong. i am too laid-back to alter this status~quo.


had you and i been made before words were made
magic would have been a synonym for us,

have you noticed how p & q look like they are
busy talking
like lost in each other
we would have been just like
p & q

Yet again, YASP is for Yet Another Silly Post..

on your mother,

walking by the shore that night with you, reminded me of my pathetic culinary skills when you asked me if i could cook. the question is quite obvious and as much questionable. i hardly regret and fret but for once i thought, i should have known. that further reminded me of your mother. my cooking or not has not much to do with her, but somehow she hasn't left my mind, eversince.

i virtually walked through her kitchen in a dream you know, stopping to stare at the neat crockery and shining utensils i could see my awed face on. i was afraid i would drop a thing and wake her up from from an early siesta. i saw her bushy plant of tulsi in the courtyard. or does she keep it in the portico? i should have asked you. the smoothness of the carpet in your living room, the cushions on the couch. the curtains, mildly flowing in the midsummer afternoon breeze that kept me awake in my dream.

i saw her making you the dishes you so yearn for now. saw you as a kid, being bashed, being loved, being put to sleep, running to school, coming back with a scratched knee and all dirtied up. playing with the folds of her saree, making tiny excuses that made her laugh or slap you left and right.

till now i have tried to see her through your eyes. for the first time in these years of knowing you, i saw you in her eyes. her eyes. infinite unconditional love.

the more i realised her, the faster i could see the distance between the two of you diminish. in the rage of the moment, i wanted to wake up from my dream and hold you so close that nothing could do us apart. but the day hadn't broken yet.

@ Anonymous ..Does this look any less sad? If it doesn't, then my suffering is chronic.

me & You - a sequel..?

In the last few days, I have been creating memories.
These memories, I want to shed. Right now. Right away.
Because I travel light.
Because I make life sufficiently complicated, anyway.
Remants of the past, make it worse.

Someone I worship, once thus spake.
'Eva memories can only cause ache
Bad ones remind you of the worst you have been through
Good ones are also bad as that good is bygone.
And Eva bygone is as good as dead'

Keeping memories is like
trying to nurse a dying moment
It's like telling yourself that
a corpse will spring back to life.

Coming back to why this is being written.
I keep looking for traces of your face, wherever, whenever.
My strange fixation.
I am obsessed about your face

I know
You will leave
This moment will die.
Our moment, in the rush of months and years
I won't nurse the corpse.
I travel light, no memories for me.

But when I look for traces of your face fading away
Getting lost in a crowd
What lingers on is those faint contours..
Your eyes like mine, sometimes tired, sometimes Red
Mostly understanding, loving

Because it has to, anyway
I dread the way all this is going to end..

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Me to you

me & You..?

Now, I'm writin yu a song. Our last..


My eyes, my sleepless eyes, are busy dreaming. They are indulging in criminal fantasy. And wouldn't pay a heed to me. I have tried. Yeah sort of. My mind too is somewhere else. It is very close to you. Run your hand through the air around you and you are sure to find it. Keeping an eye over you. Waiting, for you to find it. It is just my heart that is here with me. Writhing. Missing you so much. My heart has remained faithful, it is the repository of my painful memories. It wouldn't betray me like its brethren.

This time around I am serious. Pretty serious. Otherwise an escapist, for the first time in years, I want things to fall into place. May be we could take the risk of heart-break, one last time. May be, we could, once and for all.

Until yesterday, I was playing along. I was having some fun. Your advent in my life was a welcome escape from the sterility that had creeped in, in my oblivion. I had noticed some changes though. Colors emerged from amongstmy world of black, white and grey, and made themselves visible. Smiles frequented me oftener. And I had more secrets to keep to myself. Some tiny infatuation, I will get over, you will get over. Some tiny infatuation, you and I will laugh at, sitting in far-away places. I wouldn't look for your face in traffic junctions and crowded malls. I thought so, until yesterday.

But something happened last night that hovered inside my mind for sometime, because I let it to. Because it gave me a rare nice feeling. Later when I tried to catch some sleep, sleep helps me get over the worst of hang-overs, sleep eluded me. The rare nice feeling refused to leave, the premises of my conscious. In the morning, the hang-over was still there and I was smiling like a fool and thinking about that something that had happened.

And I couldn't just play along, anymore. I got a trifle more serious. Even things inconsequential decided to have a meaning. Moments hung on to me, like dew drops hold on to the green on leaves after a maiden monsoon shower. They reminded me of you. Possibilities asked me questions, about us. I felt shy. Yeah, believe me. I even blushed. And I waited to meet you again.

February is here again, this Valentine, you wouldn't send me roses, I know. Nor would I gather my guts to wish you on your face. But be sure, try to listen to the mist hanging in the air on the morning of Fourteenth, you'll be able to listen to my so muted wish.

Are you listening, anyway?

Eva :)