soliloquY

~ hope i've spelt the title correctly, there are some things yu can almost never fix and get done with, once-and-for-all

~When put inside a decision box]

I end up takin impassioned decisions

instead of correct decisions

I haven been brave enuf

/More often than not

my decisions have chosen me\

instead of vice versa..

I don't regret caz it's too tirin

Too drainin

and takes a weekend to recover

I let my mistakes be

Never ask!

~this is the last time i'm talking about trees on my blog, lemme get done with it.

i realised it when i heard my cell ring

had been standing in the middle of the world

lookin at a tree,

i'm livin in autumn, tis heaven

the concerned tree has turned yellow

i.e. golden for me

an it's standin upright in the sun

an sheddin its leaves, one-by-one

they are free-fallin

an i've been standin there

trynu to feel the free fall of the leaf of gold

until my cell rang

~Sometimes i wonder i wonder where i am headed

I am not sleeping nights

And oversleeping throughout afternoons into nights

Waking up more sickly and sour-mouthed

teary~eyed, guilty for letting sleep seduce me..

~ All my life I ran not a race

but one

All my life I ran this rat race/

I have been dragggin my feet on the

Road that seemingly isn't takine me some/nowhere

~ finally but one tribute to my undyin yU..!

i looked for you in the tunnels of the dark, and in the chambers of my heart, but nowhere were you to be found. totally nowhere, absolutely nowhere. then i sort of made it a point to kill my passion and to rarely think of you. then i made it a point never to fall in love ever again. then i saw to it that nothing moved me the way you did. nothing drove me to tears like you did. noone lived in my heart, the way you did. no one even came close to breaking my heart the way you did. you did\

~ things aren workin out an i'm growin all the more indifferen to their not workin out

~ pro'ly i'm just trying to help masel..

4 am thoughts!

Twenty-three mutual friends in fb..

seventeen common connections on linkedin..

I must've known yu before

Come across ye by a random chance of fate

Should've heard people talk of yu

Had a hint that yu existed..

Or vice~versa..

we've lived in the same city

i've walked the earth you've walked

Sure must've brushed past each other

once atleast..

once some obscure friday evening

when i must've been busy shopping

or waiting for movie tickets

We must've met at cross roads

waited at traffic signals together

Must've drenched ourselves

in the same first rain

some forgettable day of earlyJune

some year

But it's a wonder

how life conspires to keep apart

two obvious soul~mates

and plays its secret games

builts a wall of glass in between

fills the air with fog, on both sides

and it takes a hell of time

for that fog to condense

and slide down as water, drop after drop

and it took long lonely years

for me

to see the faint contours of yur face

on the other side

to come to know of your existence

and assure myself of assured company

twenty~two years one month nineteen days four hours and seven minutes

to be precise!

the happiness woman..

trying to move on from one inconsequential incident to another, on the way, i ceased and noticed the woman that happiness is. her eyes are small, yet happy. the upper reaches of her cheeks bulge slightly, the lower ones form a hollow to contrast. the lips so fall in a valley. a pink curve of delicate flesh, her lips. tiny gold hangs from the left ear i can see. she has all her hair taken on the right shoulder. they are a little awry. the wind must've done that. but the hair are pitch black and she is white fair. there has settled a smile on her face. it is the reflection of the smile on her soul. there is a scarf of all red wrapped around her neck. the scarf floats in the mild wind. the smile is so fixed on her face that there is not a sign of fluidity. and her eyes are black..

happiness woman has black eyes

And

Desire has green eyes..

but What color are mine?

I & II

I

as i try to forget you right now i find it very heart wrending. but that's imperative. i can't afford to have you in my mind beyond a certain time. love is a power game. of the worst sorts. besides love i give you the power to hurt me. by loving you i give you this supremacy over me. it' liek you rule my moods. you totally hold the strings of my life. i have confirmed it many times over that i would want you a hundred times over all the other wants in life. i bear the consequences of every inconsequential thing you do. i am like china in your hands. for you i dream of the pros and cons of if-only's

II

all this time i have tried to hate you because i am done convincing me that you are not the one, because you can't just be the one. i never fell for you. i never will. it's an impossibility. but there is a glitch. no it's not even that. just a dormant fear within me. that at the end of time, it could be you, if not anyone else. then i would have to keep all ego aside and take you in. it's this constant fear of this contingent future that keeps me on my toes, always trying to hate you. it's the fear of the compromise that i might have to make. it's the fear of you entering my life, and taking control with me becoming just a passive element. yesterday while crossing a busy street, this thought crossed my mind. is it you? what if it is you? what if it has always been you? i am doing a worst case scenario analysis. for you i fret over the pros and cons of what-if's

after dark

the sun hadnot shown in entirety. but its rays still reached her. they filled the air with mellow light. in the serene yellow, the water of the pond was still black. there were silent ripples. a shrub of hibiscus tilted on the water, like a lover. ripe flowers of the color of blood, dropped into the water. one after the other. killing themselves. there sat a girl on the stairs. never as conscious as then. a moment later a pale sun showed itself. a peace descended on her mind. she got up. one could see the joints of her bones undoing themselves. she stepped into the water. tip-toed one step down. she looked at her feet under the black water. their outlines moved precariously with the waves that formed. then she looked up front. at the bank, opposite. one more step down, she paused for one moment. and looked back, at the world.

then she walked away. deeper into the water..

Hiatus~

she smiled a lot. and when she smiled she could feel her dimples form. she

could feel her strands of hair stray to her face. she purposefully left

them intact. until the wind played with them yet again. kept throwing

them on an off her face. her dimples formed and unformed. she kept trying

to find out if her left cheek dimpled. she wondered how she had two cheeks

but one dimple. just one..

he swayed from this side of the road to that. there must have been some

song playing in his mind. he had never planned for this night. stranded a little

before middle of the night. a mildly cold night. waving to every rare cab

that passed by. and looking back at her and smiling distinctly after one more

cabbie betrayed them..

i wonder if she could see his smile. it was dark. the only light being that of

billboards on top of buildings in and around. neither could he see her dimple

form and unform. but he was aware of the distinct one on the right cheek.

faint yet there. and he probably loved it.

this went on till one cabbie relented to take them home for the night.

on the way, she wanted the typical music playing..the late night long drive

instrumental one. music that suited the moods of a drunken city. besides hers

and his.

when they brushed past the winds, the silent streets snored. the music

inside the cab only danced, causing a sort of a furore.

the wait had been long. wait for a cold rain or probably snow. the signs began

to show as they travelled deeper into the night. the wait seemed to end now.

they wondered if it snowed ,would they have to stand the whole night under

a tin sheet, or something? waiting for it to get day.

as it got only colder, on the way, the only warming effect came from the

presence of each other. she laughed..often irresistibly. and every now and

then he kept looking at her.

and that's how they reached home that night. Period

Disclaimer: It so appears that some have a problem with my writing. Such people may kindly

Abstain.

..One muted Sound

But I never thought she would die so Soon

So soon

But she did

I never could never think writing about her

Exactly what her death is making me do

Now

In the last few days

She had been going blind

I din't know

I din't care to know, honestly

Why should I

Poke my nose into business

Thats' just not mine

She won't look at us

Coz' she cun't see us

With her blind eyes

I dont' do earings, I cant'

they so remind me of what she was

and what she was to me

Sleep eluded me so

those nights of her death

Benumbed with Shock

I couldnt' bear to forget

the distinct contours

of her face

The face

her slight squint

those hanging cheeks

the chin dimple

oil-dipped hair..

thin hair

weird hair

weird memories

memories that dont' want to be forgotten

that come back for randome seconds

and stay, daylong

sometimes nightlong

they don't leave me

she dont' leave me

those who depart

why at all they do..

Insane Again..

I write when I am possessed
Totally overwhelmed
I write because
I can’t help it
I write it out because
There is no other way out but words
I write out of a compulsive obsession
I write to get rid of
It

But now
There is kind of a
Gossamer of thoughts
Inside me
And the thing I realize is that
I am sad
Very sad
Irreversibly sad
And I can’t dissect my feelings to
Find out what fundamental feelings
They are made of

Life is pro’ly
Seasoning me
Fate is pro’ly
Getting ready to unveil
Colors like
Flashy red, distant violet
And shades of grey
Thick prominent thick
Shades of grey

Now it’s hard for me
I can’t let things
So foreign sink in
So easily into
This delicate my being

But
I know
Sooner or later
Grey and indifference will
Rule me
Me

One day
Sooner the better
This gossamer of thoughts
Will give up and
Disintegrate
Into all that it’s made of
To show me
Bare skin

And that day
I will find some way
To be
Happy again.

PS:OnewudncaretoreadthiswholeorhalfbutIcudncareanyless

Shoot the Moon

last night when i evaluated the magnitude of dearth in my life, i decided to take a walk, though it was long past midnight. i was walking alone and alone and then i was also looking at the moon which was showing itself more distinctly than usual. i was actually staring at the moon and walking, rather than looking in front. and it was jaw droppingly cold. rib-shakingly cold. i hid my hands in the pockets of my coat and kept walking, on and on till i could walk no more. no, it was not me who got tired. but the road finished. i stood almost at the end of my world, staring out into the world that wasn't mine. my patience ended, then and there. i could stare no more. all stings that had tied me till yet loosened. i evaluated the magnitude of dearth in my life, even more.

a need is a state of perennial deprivation. and there is no assurance that it can be pacified by means human. it is just there because it's there. the causes of mine are unknown. so pacification is an impossibility, almost. and this is what makes the hole a lot more bigger, and the dearth, more life stakingly, patheticalling and cruelly, looms larger than life.

when you don't know what is it that your hands are looking out for and you are in the dark, then your hands try to feel every damn thing that they come across. and then you ask yourself if this is the thing you were actually looking for. since you don't know what you were looking for it takes a long torturous journey to convince yourself that that is the not the thing you were looking for. this i swear i hard, it is hard to death, coaxing yourself to believe, yes it is.

and this is what i was doing last night, standing at the end of my world, staring at the moon till i could no more and letting the cold enter my skin, my bones, my soul. i wanted to know if cold could numb, of not heal. and was stretching my hands out in the open like waiting for an embrace. till i could, no more. any more.

so i turned back, holding myself close, really close and slept for the night, last night 

and today morning i thought of this

..i love you in reds and in blues

your cheekbones that standout when you so smile

the way you walk

like you are swaying

or flying

the sound of your laughter

and the depth of your voice..

it hurts to even think of you

to let you enter my sphere of perception

you are like a curse

but i cant help myself..

i just love you in reds and in blues

1:23 AM

Sometime ago I found the guy who justifies this poem about the fictitious biker~lover. I relished those moments of knowing him and telling myself that the weirdest of words can by a feeble chance of fate become true. I have a world of work to do. I have but not idea why I am writing this instead. So I just am, giving it a go. Chewing happydent keeps me happy. Like there were a certain tonic for happyness. I'm looking around like an insane woman forit. I have realized some truths about myself. And I want a live in harmony with these. May the force be with me. I am trying to use less 'I's in this post to prove that I am trying to be less obsessed with myself and convince myself that I am beginning to recognize there exists a world outside my mind. But I can't help it. This blog (of mine) is all about sad love, supposedly. So let me define it: Love is when Familiarity breeds love and strictly not contempt as she usually does. I seriously hope you got my previous statement. Now nod. Personally things that are vague enamour me out & out. Professionally such things make way for disgust. Now that's split personality. Wonder how I live with one contradiction inside me and surrounded by another. I live in a hilly city and it never stops raining. So I have learnt the art of sharing my umbrella with strangers, complete ones and incomplete ones. I am tired of jargon. I hate jargon. Indifference has been the most bejewelled of attitudes. It still is. Fascinations: tango, venice, dubai, smoke, red eyes, empty streets, roof~top restr@s. Roof~top restaurants because I found one tonite. It overlooks my hilly city, full of lights, where it always rains. It gave me that feel of Cloud~9. The biker~lover guy I talked about initially and this place are linked somehow. If they are not, as of yet, I would see to it that get linked anyhow, in the future. Or else we will have an Alternate Future.

Truth happens when they meet: the yin and the yang. I am glad, I didn't miss my moment of Truth.

You I & the Dream

Long ago you asked me what the dream of my life was/ is.

That induced some thinking, before I realized what it actually is.

There was a mountain I had climbed sometime. At the zenith, I looked at the other side of the mountain. It looked like a dream. I had seen nothing like that all my life.

And after that rendezvous, I could never get over it.

So I felt that the dream of my life was to spend a night on the crest of that mountain, star staring. Out in the cold. Out in the dark. Sitting all through the night. Staring at that Dream.

Later, I came back to you to tell you that this is what the dream of my life was/ is..

Then you asked/told, 'And you want to spend the night up there with me.'

I said, 'No .. Alone .. all Alone..'

...

PS :One thing I seem to have realized is that I am just too cynical to be worthy of Love.

Pic Courtesy: S

Dini-II

Off late besides postponing movies for a later part of my life, I have come to know a certain thing. I have an uncanny ability to see through people. In most cases I do. This happens if you are ditched badly twice or once. The inability to trust even the simplest of people becomes settles in pretty deep. You wonder if anything is but a facade. But on another note, who in here is simple? I mean does the word even exist?

Everyone is complicated. Yes..please, no arguments they are. I being the epitome of all complications is yet another story. But you can't deny my judgement here. It's as sound as sound could be.

Tall people, short people, the ones with spikey hair, the ones with curls..chubby ones skinny ones..elated ones happy ones sad ones depressed ones devastated ones..all look complicated to one eye and on the other hand contrastingly mundane to the other eye.

Oyah. Everyone is mundane. No arguments, they are. That is precisely why I cannot stand anyone anymore. Anyone forthatmatter.

Everyone is 1. self-obsessed!

Oh Dear God if you exist, why, why on earth and in the rest of the universe did you have to make everyone so so bloody self obsessed? Argh! Arghh! Why?

People love other people just because they are loved back. Could hypocrisy sink to do more ignominous lows than this? I don't know. With the kind of people around, you never know who could stoop to what lows.

You have to stand and stare and bear or pretend to do so. And I honestly can't do so anymore. I cant stand these people any more. Someone take me away! Someone (who is not self obsessed) puhlease take me away..Let's take to wings, let's do something out of the world. Let's do anything but the mundane.

I want to see a better world. A slightly more rational one, that I can justify to myself. I don't want to end up hating everyone I know, because familiarity somehow always breeds contempt.

But somehow life has unconsciously become one journey. A journey to find the Intense. This is one sole category I adore, worship, am enslaved to. But I am afraid I do so because

I am yet to dissect them in my mind. Once they are in pieces, again all that shows is how mundane they had been, how misled I was. Hence the sad story.

I am not a pessimist. I have the power of reason.

Mich & Amit..

'Cabbie take me home'

'It's icy cold out here, and I would rather be left out tonite'

'But cabbie take me home'

'In life, I am doing a lot of running, but not getting anywhere'

'So cabbie, take me home..'

Says Mich

'Calm girl'

'Take a deep breath'

'I'm almost holding your hand'

'In you I see a Goddess'

'All roads lead to you'

'Don't go home tonite'

Says Amit

'But I love me more than than/..anythin els'

'This is killing me bit by bit'

'They want me to change'

'I am going mad, so'

'Amit, I'm so going mad'

Says Mich

'Girl, my Mich'

'Hold yourself and listen'

'This wind blows your hair'

'And sultry is the way you look'

'even when it's icy cold out here'

Says Amit

'But Amit'

'I aint beautiful'

'That is what I am all about'

'I aint beautiful'

'That is what I am all about'

Says Mich

'Says who? Mich?'

'You're my Goddess'

'My Karma..all I have'

'Beautiful or not'

'You are all that you are'

'You are me.. Mich'

Says Amit

'But I am so confused Amit'

'I don't know what is it I want'

'What is it that makes me so sad'

'Honestly I don't'

'I have been lookin for help'

Says Mich

'..Mich'

'You're sweet music'

'You ae the romance between words..'

'Mich'

'You're the way the wind sways'

'The dry leaves twirl..'

'You ae a beautiful mind, Mich'

Says Amit

'But Amit..'

...

Love Child

the part of you that is within me

keeps me awake tonight

night after night..

he reminds me of you..

of our furious love

the passion that lived between us

our love made of unsaid words and lowered gazes..

the passed time

the silent prayers

my fear of falling apart

the fear of fostering this fear..

when he sees the light of the day

all in the world i want is to see

you play him

chase him out of the bushes he hides in

roll him on the grass..

kiss him all over

smother him

the way we never did

bestow on him..

the remnant of our love

let me not regret anymore

of that half love

in him..let it live on

tonight, let our love

meet the horizon..

Wish

I wish I were home now. Me and mom would have just come back grocery shopping, holding lots of bags. Panting coz the stairs. I wish so hard, I can almost hear the lock of the main door clicking open, and I can see myself switching the light on and throwing the bags on the floor. Sinking into the couch and skipping the news channels on the TV to find some old hindi movie playing somewhere. I wish so hard I can breathe the smell of the rain in the air. The mild breeze that enters the living room from my bedroom. I can get flavors of spices from the kitchen. I can feel the cold with my barefeet,walking into my mom's bedroom..and I can hear the sound of shifting of the curtains. I can see the highway from the window. The chain of lights. The hurrying traffic. The waiting rain. Mom saying dad would be home any moment. And so much more. I am almost there..

I wish I could go out tonite. I have this particular black dress I wanted to wear. I wanted to see myself getting down the stairs in that. If that's not weird enough, I wanted to dine out. I wish to hear the clinking of glasses in an up-class restaurant. I wanted to lose myself in dim lights. Iwanted to be gifted a thing or two. I wanted to look down at the boisterous street from the glass of the particular up-class restaurant. I wanted to have some hot chocolate stuff. Later I wishedto be walked back home. My gait dancing in total abandon, on the sidewalk. Unafraid. Swaying to unheard music..and I wished to see all this happening, through your eyes..

These are just 2 of the 22 weird wishes I made..TOday!

Gamble.

You, right now look like a big gamble. Doesn mean that things are gonna get any better in the future. But.

You're so unbelievable. Unbelievably good or bad, we are yet to discover. Or we would never know. Who cares? Why care!

But your eyes. Red eyes. Are much like mine. Unfortunately those are the first things that caught my attention. No, the attraction part is not unfortunate. But that the eyes in a man would register in a woman's mind is pretty much unusual, no? Because mostly it could be the anything but the eyes.

Anyway.

There is this facade you put up. You know, you tell me that your life is a real bad deal for you. In fact your frustrations make you an even more attractive prospect, because they superfluously eclipse mine and make me think less about me and more for you. But all this doesn't show on your face, so both of us agree that what's un your face is a facade. But what if it's not? What if you are lying to me? What if your life is well sorted out inside yur mind and you are just plain lying to me? I am suspicious I agree. But you could be a liar, you know? That is precisely why You are a big gamble, at least for now. While I am writing this, you are.

Right now, like I am treating everything else in my life, I am analysing you. Making lists, and scratching things out. Making charts, for which way we could go. And then again, putting down my pen and looking away from all analyses and staring at something I still aven't realised what; and wondering about what is now.

Now is what is passing between us. It is the sum of my withdrawals, your silences and a hoard of other things, I care not to list down. Whatever is, may be it is somewhat, sometimes, worth it. At least for now. While I am writing this, it is.

None of this is true. I am simply hallucinating. Or may be I am not. I am not. I am just a trifle more crazy, tonite.

All of a sudden I am remembering things. Long highways on lonely summer nights. Scanty lights beside the roads as my cab zooms away. And I lose touch with them. And I lose touch with everyting. I open my hands and let time go. I remember departure, estrangement. The irreversibility of life, haunts me. Even if that was sad, it wants to come back.

I try to draw more lines now. I try to match the past with now. The now that breathes between us, like it were alive. Remember, I told you? But then there is no sync. It's so abrupt, that I fail to gather. And so I want to ask you. Are you true?

Does life need to continue from where it left? Can't it start again, from the beginning? Despite the abruptness. Can't wE take this leap? Together?

Or we shouldn't. I shouldn't. That way I would give life a chance to slap me left and right, all over again. And then life would mock and laugh and I would swear never to believe in things as fragile as this ever again. And to never Gamble ever again.

PS: Forgive this post, if yu can..I'm sleepless..head-ached..n' lovelorn..

PS: A few hours later. The verdict is out. I am not Gambling. No way.

Alibi

I don't have an idea. I seriously can't keep track of things. And I am pretty sure I can't do anything about my pre-occupation. I am like always thinking of somethingelse, talking to some non-existent entity, in a distant universe.

How long can I survive this world while I live in another? Till sometime back I had managed to pull myself through with the excuse of being different. But that doesn't look possible naymore. My tricks are failing me. My alibi doesn't shield me naymore. And I wonder..

My life has been moderately okayish. Except a couple of them, I haven't kept many qualms. I have grown up like a person inside a person, pretty much in isolation.

There aren't any externalities in my life. I have created a shell around, and I am very cosy inside it. Almost always asleep. So when in *this* world people call my name, I am always shaken out of sleep. Can I afford this? I wonder..

I have had this hopelesslyromantic love affair with the written word. I am madly passionate about sorrow. Solitude turns me on. I am at peace with a slower pace. I have always*always had it mY own way. And now change looks like the last thing in the universe (yours and mine) that we can bring about. I don't have the slightest idea about how to revert to mundanity..

So nor will I..

One Friday evening..

He sat with his legs stretched towards me under the table. Earlier I wondered if that he did to confirm his authority on me. But later that ceased to matter anymore. Authority confirmed or not, he invariably takes me wherever I go.

He looked pre-occupied. Wasn't with me. I didn't meddle with that. That's a part of getting used to eachother. And that is a hassle free process when the reason of you two beingtogether is that both of you are pre-occupied, indifferent and insolently so; yet infinitely passionate, weirdly in love with yourself and madly in love with each other..

He was making calls, breathing heavy, looking around. Stretching his hands and looking at corners of the roof. It was impossible to catch his eyes.

We were supposed to be working. We decided, Friday evenings they would be. Week days were killing me. We hardly ever could meet. So we decided Friday evenings they would be. A lot of stuff had piled up. I was tired, sleep-deprived and silent. He was red-eyed and distant.

I wanted to go for a walk later, may be, if time and situations permitted. And if he got out of his shell for the night. Staring at the laptop screen, my eyes began toache. Numbers and letters merged into each other. And diverged when they felt like. He was looking away and thinking, working away. Do I distract him? Or anything.

I crushed his pillow in myarms, pulled my hair apart.

'Ideas never come to me this way. I am deaD'

He didn't move.

'Are you even listening to me?' I cried.

He looked atme then. A smile gushed on his face. His eyes were so much like mine.

'I'l get you coffee'

He got out of the room, exactly what I wanted. Alone now, i leaned on his heap of clothes on the bed, and don't know slept for how long. Fifteen minutes..Twenty?

I woke up to a heat shock. He was brushing the coffee cupagainst my cheek. Waking me up from sleep, is something like murder, if not more. I screamed. Spilt the coffee on me, on him, on the whole of his bed.

What followed were his obvious peals of laughter, a tiny tussle of muscles, between lovers. And incessant rain outside. One Friday evening.

paraphernalia..for love.

i will let the folds on my white bedsheet stay. i will leave them the way they are, until they become creases. i won't empty the ash tray ever. the imprints of your lips from your last sip, is a thing i would never part from. i will cage your smells in this room, for the years to come. your voice, your hmmm's and ohh's, forever...

your touch, our dreams, the castles we built, i swear, i will keep them safe. until the day, you come back to me. to continue my life from where you had abruptly paused it. to pick me up again from whereyou had abandoned me. to love me again. to make my story come true.

Art began, when you love left me

PS: a rainy saturday afternoon. hot coffee after a hot shower. the hot shower redeems the mind. the steam settles on the window pane. your name written on it, with my fingers. the coffee jerks me awake, yet again. the aftertaste of sugar persists. with every sip, remnants of you keep finding their way back to me. and it starts raining harder...isn't this romantic?!

Bias.

One Sunday evening he and I were talking. I was walking down to the ATM to get some cash for the next week. I thought I would talk through. We drifted to relationships. The lack of them. Marriage. And then an ultimate oneliner from him,"Some people even look for a beautiful girl to marry". I laughed then. In those wisps that escaped my mouth, were my sighs. I am thinking about it now.

How often do you care to notice someone who almost merges with the background? Someone who is forced to do so or someone who does it by choice. A someone who doesn't have that attractive a face, that catchy a smile or that visible an attitude. Someone who lives by himself. You won't right? Never ever?

Honestly I wouldn't either. My eyes aren't deft enough to suck the beauty out of things as real as life. We always love things that look beautiful. Unconsciously we lose out on loving the things that are beautiful. And that my dear, is not that good a deal.

You wont ever care to speak to a girl who is not a hot shot. Would you? If her hair isn't jet black or dark shades of coffee; if she lacks vital vital statistics; if she isn't fair, you would ne'er, would you? You won't ever notice someone who is not consciously trying to get noticed. If you won't then you have no work here. Fuckoffyoubloodysonovabitch!

PS: Nevamind my last phrase. I had to use it. I am relieved now. Sigh!

One four letter word I despise is Bias.

sleep is a prostitute

sleep is a prostitute. right now i am unhappy, disgruntled, frustrated. so she wont come to me. i try to drug myself to sleep. i work, pushing limits. i try to think of things less tragic. but she wont come to me tonight.

right now, i am sinking. i am very sad. i am trying. still i am failing. i am losing sleep over it. i am losing. i am failing. i am too shocked to realize the shock. i can't afford a smile. i walked myself to a lonely corner where noone was looking and tried to cry, tried to get the lump that was choking my chest off it. but i cudn't help it. i cudn't help anything. i cudn't help myself. i am too shocked. i can't take this. because i can't believe this. because i don't take this.

the worst happens when you don't get what life is trying to convey. and right now i am so puzzled to perceive what life is trying to convey through all that happened today. i wont ever be able to forget today. i hate today.

and i am still not getting sleep. and i can't cry either. i don't have anyone to share this with. tell me, could it get worse? tell me could it get beyond this?

lastdays

this is about how i wanted to spend my last days and how exactly i did so:

1. i loved walking. i walked evenings, nights. to all the places i ever wanted to. at hours odd and even. beside trees tall and old. beside trees that had leaves sensuous dark green and sometimes stunted boughs on which sprouted coppery baby leaves. i walked under starry skies, and took pictures of my shadow. i stood under street lights and wondered. and all the while i had the most wonderful companion ever. someone who disaapeared into thin air when i wanted to be alone, emerging only when i felt the need.

2. i loved chicken all the more then. wanted to eat out every other night. and my chicken-aholism reached its heights. i have had my drums-of-heaven and am done with it!

3. i wanted to find an alter-ego. i found an alter-ego.

4. i wanted to sleep with music on all night. one song playing all night.

precisely what i did.

5. i wanted not to care for a thing in the world. sigh! made sure that happened in the best way possible.

6. i wanted to rain-walk. i drenched myself in the first rain one entire afternoon. i laughed like hell in the rain. forthe first time rain wasnt an excuse for tears. people looked at me like i were mad. but point no. 5!

7. wanted to be a-lone. courtesy the world, i always had the liberty to be so.

8. shopping-ah-shopping! frocks, capris, tops & trinkets.

9.wanted to get high once, twice... a dozen times, and that happened many times over due to various reasons of course

10.wanted to talk all night. yeah! and have memories of it..for the rest of my life/. i am having memories of it still and i am storing them in locked chambers for the better.

11. i wanted to quit studying. and proly that showed in my final results.

12. wanted to see the sun rise, being up all night. for once in life, that

too happened..!

Point to take to heart: One way of being happy is doing exactly what you want to do. Hence proved.

PS: /DNM @ C-110-KMS-NITR-I am gonna miss you forver/

Cudn care les..

1. I just talked to my mum(after some hours),kid bro(after a day), and dad(after two days)- in a row. We're apart. And I wanna keep making sure that we're not falling apart. The hint of it makes me sick!

2. I have basically remained the same person, standing all the changes that threatened to outlive me.

3. I am still sticking to coffee.

4. Though I like the stink of nicotine better/.

5. I have become *very* *very* specific about the people I want to stay in touch with. Consider yourself (un/)lucky enough if you're still alive on my (hit)list.

6. Indifference is having the better of me these days. I cannot care to form an opinion about any thing or person whatsoever. Or may be I need time. Or may be I am plain as confused as I am.

7. I have seen real bad days in life. But still belive, that I will marry for love.

8. I apparently, am always gainingweight! And I apparently have always had a bad-hair-day;a-bad-hair-month; a bad-hair-year and soforth.

9. I wake up @ 8 and doze off more than a dozen times in the first lecture @9. That reminds me, in life, I am still studying. I am told that I am yet to see the reaL~baD world..I wonder, what else am I yetto see?

10. Well that also reminds me I am turning tweny~too in about a month from today. 2 plus 2 ..tweny~too!

11. And I am still sticking to my blog. Through these years I somehow got addicted to this anonymity~

12. And I want to tell you that...

The walk goes on...with yu..without YOU..

..Something I can't help is obvious continuity

~once

i am not asking you to

stay forever

all i want of you is that

we hold this moment in our hands

this moment

that we are together

alone~together

there is a distant circle of sinking orange

clouds have clothed the mountain

and soft strings from a guitar

fill our ears

we are more alive, than ever

and we want to dance

now, my feelings need not be held back

they can come down like lashes of rain

anytime, anywhere...

so wild so free

so i ask of you, to stay, now

let me live, let me cry, this once

This once...

i know, in love once is enough

like light for a blind eye

like wine for a parched loner

like you for me..

...I am so hungry, I can keep writing this poem forever, but it won't make any sense beyond this...I have said enough...I have had enough...It's time to call it off...~once 'n for all...

Passions

Hide and Seek Milano: Crispy biscuits with lumps of chocolate inside. Well they are big enough,

but somehow I can never manage to eat just one.

Silence: The way we lapsed into one

of our silences when we talked. I simply get addicted to that. we connect the most when we are actually not talking. i love those moments of

awkward silence and the way they become a comfort with time, a reassurance, the thing i need the most of all the other things.

Shakira: Watching this petite woman dance and her voice filling my ears and my mind. she creates passion in me.

Purples and violets: i can never differentiate one from the other. i never know when one becomes the other. and i love them with the color of zinc/g.

My words Un~spaced: i hate the space bar. i love to write phrases, stanzas with all my words together. no spaces for me.

I love forgetting: my window has a view of mountains. but then clouds cover them on and oft. and when they do so, i forget the mountains existed. by the evening the moutains

are back, shining orange in sunset, and I am surprised. And I forget other things/people/facts/events also.I forget how some special people and I spent evenings stretching into nights, talking and talking. We part and I forget them, those talks, the nothings shared, I feel like a machine. It is when I am reminded of them by someone, I begin feeling

nostalgic, pathetic.

The written word: I love reading people who feellike me, writelike me. I feel delighted, ecstatic, hysterical: sad, distraught, suicidal, all at the same time. Here, I totally advocate

total hypocrisy

People Watching: I keep watching them. People accuse me. I can't careany less. I wish I could, do that better: the caring any less part i.e.

Pain: I am passionate about the volumes of sorrow I hold. I like

being insance. I like being outof control

Sea shells, solitude and the sea: are among my other passions..

I feel troubled, when I feel that it can get to this, like in the picture here..

.

.

.

& I dedicate this post to someone'

Unhinged

i miss you a lot. do you miss me. do you remember me at all. do you

think of me sometimes. do you spare me a moment. i have my days

lined up for you. there is this picture of ours right afore my eyes. i

look at it, both of us happy and smiling sweetly. there is this glow in

my eyes, the blush on my cheeks which is otherwise unseen. there is

this innocence on your face which i dare not think to be fake. the

glint in your eyes, your smile, you, hold the strings of my life

together.

days have gone by and we have parted, we haven't heard of each

other ever since. seems we have been living lives of our own. we

have been occupied. really occupied. but after the day got over, i sat

down to take a deep breath, your thoughts crossed my mind. it's like

you are the thing i thought of involuntarily after a real long time. i

had forgotten to feel. i had forgotten to feel what it is like to

feel. but then you reminded me of it all and took me back in time all over

again.

back to times of being together.it's true we didn't have the patience

and the humility to make reality what still continues to live as a

dream in a corner of our hearts. we couldn't say. we couldn't look

into each other. we couldn't look into ourselves. and merciless that

time is, it went by.

our lives brought us to new junctures, left us alone. but then i don't

live with regrets. this moment, thinking of you, i swear i feel

Unhinged. i have accepted you, i have accepted our missed stint, our

bygone moments as a part of me that will live on, passively and will

come back to life on nights as solitary and as cold as tonite.

and i have learnt that some things are not meant to BE...

The idea of Romance is

this...

Pic Courtesy: Internet

On that day there was hardly any movement though. It had been

drizzling all through. On the other side of the glass window drops of

water were plopping from the roof above.

There was a lake somewhere. there weren't many people. There was

a resturant like a hexagon nearby. I don't think i would be able to

describe what was it like inside. but, it was a small place. The walls

were made of glass. There was one huge table in the centre where

many people could sit facing each other and chat. and there was this

table that lined the six walls. there were chairs decked up on which

people could sit facing the lake and see.

They chose to sit facing the lake instead of facing each other.

Because this way the eyes seldom lock. That would mean less

questions being asked, less of tides rising within, more of silence.

Through the glass, the smells of the lake couldn't reach us. The

sounds were muted. But they could see those smells and sounds.

And that is what they did for sometime.

She turned behind to see a kid ripping apart a sandwich when she

called the waiter. He did too. The kid looked cute and when he

looked at them, they smiled. That was the first thing they shared

that day,the laugh. Later of course there would be more such things,

she sighed. Memories of moments gone by; stretches of time in the

past that passed between them in the world's oblivion, were sure

to come back.

The passage of time slowed down a little. It became more obvious.

When he lifted the cup to his mouth and the vapours from the coffee

settled on his glasses turning him blind, he looked like a cartoon that

moment, just like the old days. They smiled again. between the

smiles, the times were turbulent. The reason of their coming

together after so long stood between them? After this long a gap, the

void had been so well embedded in her that it felt like an inborn part.

A phoenix isn't for real, is it? Nothing comes back to life.

??? ?? ?? ???? III

I won't call this one Men in my Life III because the title sounds totally ridiculous. I was planning to alter the previous posts also but then whatever comes out here is unedited stuff mostly, so we let them be.

Tonite, I will tell you another story.

I met a guy some three years ago at some kind of a gathering back home. And I am going to write a pretty dispassionate account of it. There were a 'couple' of common friends. And there came a moment when all the couples got busy amongst themselves leaving the lesser mortals with nothing much to do. That's when exactly I and the guy got talking. That's when I 'had' to shed that put-on curtain of inaccesibility.

Honestly I found the place quite wild to my standards.. jam packed room, dance floor, rough music. It was pathetic to be sitting and just sitting. So casual hi's got us talking. The discomfort was probably very evident on my face. I couldn't say much to begin with.

And after five minutes I realized that I was purely listening. Yeah, I wasn't being asked anything. The guy went on and on. And somehow I chose that over talking because sometimes, you know I blurt out stuff to strangers or semi-strangers and regret heavily later. Spontaneity is one big devil sitting inside my head.

It felt better that I wasn't sitting totally alone and was being talked to, atleast. The discomfort began to diminish. He then felt like a long lost friend. He started talking about his life. I asked him about girls. Yeah, that I do to spice up conversations. People get very engrossed when you touch those love cords. Later he started talking about one female in particular. The latest one, probably.

Sometimes I had to try hard to pay attention. Sometimes I felt irked. Smoke seriously turns me off. I almost snatched the cigarette butt from his mouth and crushed it in the ash tray. That struck him hard, probably left an impression too.

After a day he called me. Wanting to meet me was an excuse. His story had not been wound up that evening, I remembered. He wanted to be listened to. He wanted the stuff out of his mind. It could be me, it could be the walls, green trees...

In the cafe', I sat still. Smiled at exactly unequal intervals of time, so that he wouldn't know they were totally voluntary. I heard him in and out. Formed the female-in-particular's face in my mind. Really don't know what made her appear slightly chubby with curled locks. But anyway, I also came to know about her ex-boyfriend, present boyfriend, future-boyfriend..! All in details, besides other things.

After it all, I realized I had this flair for listening. Listening to distressed souls. Could be because I am tremendously patient. Could be because I seriously don't give a damn!

Whatever the reasons be...when guys my age have confessed to me that they see the 'understandingmother' in me, hardly anything is left to be said ;) Chapter stands closeD.

On yet another note

All my crushes look the same. Feel the same.

Man, they are all the same.

Brash, overconfident, arrogant blokes.

And I am worried. Ain't I evolving?

I, a while ago, was playing with the light and the dark.

I should have been Narcissus's first daughter..

An evening like today's may never happen again. There are dark lines of black against a sad grey sky. And there are quietened noises. I chose to write today, now.

I am not a social. I can't be one. So sitting in a quiet corner I observe. I have no qualms.

I saw a girl. She looked partly insane. It was in the lounge of the parlour, we were waiting for our turns. At times I was glad I had to wait. She was fair, you know. And plump. Plump must be an euphemism for fat. She was lost inside her violet salwar kameez. Yes, it was too big for her. She had clutched her hair at the back. Anyway, she hardly had any hair. She wore huge earrings. They were made of glass and were purple too. She wore glasses. Not thick, not thin, just glasses. Under those glasses were her eyes, of course. Her eyes had a squint. The parlour people made her wait for a long time. That, my dear, was unfair, because she could have been called in much earlier. But all the time she sat there, the squint made me feel that she had been looking at one point. Far away, may be. This together with a few other things, made her look insane to me. Insane, as in out of the herd. Later when she was called inside and the parlour girl loosened her hair, it finished a lot above her waist. Each strand had a different length. Pathetically uneven, I could make out. The parlour girl asked her if she had tried cutting her hair by herself, you know, going all crazy. For a moment I imagined her doing that. Sitting infront of the mirror, gayly chatting away with herself, her hair on her shoulders, and she cutting it all out with scissors in her hands. Her sciccors moving as fast as the words falling out of her mouth. But now the partly insane girl couldn't hear her, at all. The parlour girl repeated. The insane girl gave her a very puzzled, harmless look, with the squint intact. She looked and half-smiled. The scene froze there.

Then somedays later, I saw a guy. He wasn't tall. Not short either. Thin, yes may be. He had a very deep set voice, you know. When he spoke, I felt like he was speaking out of his stomach. The voice was grave, I wondered what vibrations it caused at his throat when it passed through it, from his stomach, out to us. His hair was nice. It looked like a mushroom. If a mushroom is ugly, okay then, his hair looked like a nice mushroom. He wore glasses too. They were square cut for him. His eyes under his glasses always had a hint of joy. His lips were always moulded into a smile. You know, that was the set expression on his face. He smiled and laughed like those were the only things he knew. When he did so, his mushroom hair shook a little,bounced a little. His happiness made me believe that nothing in the world could make him feel otherwise. And that made him look very powerful.And for that I envied him. Chapter closed. Hahaha.

Ithinkyoushouldforgivemeformycrazywritingbutthenithinktheblogshouldreflecttherealperson I AM.

wildflower is tired of living like a part of the walls. she's sick.

Sometimes, the life she has lived looks inconequential. and that is the point when it begins to hurt.

Fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and I am trynna hold a shadow in my hands. Some parts of me are numb. Dead, for the better. Feeling like a machine. Want to feel like one. I want to forget me, right now. From now, forever.

I want to die. And be born again. 

I don't like changes. But I surprise myself with the way I Adapt.

Men in my Life -II

Unaware of the storm inside me when you saw me for the first time waiting for you over there I wanted to know what your honest reactions were. That I could never know. I had quite told myself that whatever would follow later that evening I would see it through as the real me, and not some fake woman trying to please the stranger in you. But I defied myself in the very first moment. I smiled at you. The way I had decided I would have been rather staring at you curiosly, asking weird questions about the person you are. But I smiled.

Before it all began, one thing irked me somewhat. I wondered how people remembered their ownselves after their better halves entered their lives. Years of solitude had mended me into someone whose emotions were pred-decided, opinions fixed. I had irreversibly fallen in love with myself. This self-love was the buffer around me, my shock-absorber of sorts.No matter what, I was to stand by me, like an insane hypocrite. It was understood that the man in my life would be just secondary.

Later I met you. I had been looking for a reason to love, more than I was looking for love. But then I met you. Thin strands of attraction dragged my eyes to you, and made them stay there. Thin from my side, thinner from yours.

and this made me insecure. Insecure that I wouldn't love myself as much anymore. What if I end up losing you. I would have lost myself already. and there was not a trace of selfish guilt in all that I thought. It appeared obvious. It does with time. Time spent alone, inside the four walls of my mind.

In the days that followed when we got involved, i forgot to think that this way to love wasn't politically correct. the way to love was to start from acquaintance, and then via frienship trickle into love. drop by drop.

But we were meeting intending to fall in love. we might have been trying as well. now in the light of reason, that appears ridiculous to me. had it been some other female in my place, i would be clutching my stomach and laughing. but way back then, i was like living in a dream. all else but you, looked like a facade. i wasn't sure of you, but i wanted to believe you for real. believe that we could happen.

Believe that love wasn't a myth afterall. and that i could fall for it.

PS: But love isn't a myth. I actually saw a guy in this..!

She.

the first time i saw her, she was literally dragging her feet on the road, heading home. must have had a real tough day. in the light of the dusk i couldn't see the expression on her face, but she must have been talking to herself. i tried to fast forward to when she would barge into her room and throw herself on the bed.

the second time i saw her was in the restaurant. she was with someone and i was with many people. they had preferred one corner table. and in the dimlit darkness i could gather, she wasn't beautiful. the waiter came out with two veg sandwiches. one was for me. the other for her. they were awful, the sandwiches that is. they were cold and tasteless and cold and tasteless. but thanks to them, we ended up with our first common disgust.

third time, saturday evening, in the temple. in the bright light i saw a serene face. lips din't move. so silent prayers. then i heard her sob, i heard her cry. i saw her break down. i waited there and saw her hold herself and walk past me.

the fourth time it was in a bookstore. her hair had settled into lose curls. strands of it kept falling on her face and she never gave up on tucking them behind her ears. no earings though. she held half a dozen books in her hands, like she was taking them home for dinner. ah, greed for the written word. for a brief insignificant moment my eyes met hers. for the one first time. she held my eyes in hers for one brief instant, and then let go.

our fifth was in a fish market. she was in faded jeans, torn jeans. my mind moved about with her like the usual. she looked totally out of place. someone was doing the fishing for her. she was meant to do the better of the jobs. observing. people watching. i caught her taking pictures. of everything in and around, of the absolute squalor. she has an eye for everything.

the last time, she was standing in the rain. in purpose. her gurgling laugh filled the air. rippled all the way to where i was standing, nearly in love. the rain was filling into her hair, strand by strand. the rain was filling into the plate of pani-puri she was having in the rain. pani-puri in the rain. she did sorts of things to her hair and laughed yet again. and again. while i stood there, nearly in love.

Does Dearth lead to Death?

And c’mon what is it? What is this temptation about? To be in love? To be loved in return? Or just the desire to be together?

Is it not about these moments? And just these moments that I spent blushing under your stare or feeling the warmth in your hands…?

Nothing lasts forever and so does love. It doesn’t last beyond moments.

Men in my Life- I

I had five minutes to catch my train. I had a heavy suit case
in one hand hand, my hand bag in another. Plus a parcel of
my wud-be-dinner. I was climbing the stairs on this
foot-over bridge to the other platform. My luggage was
almost kiling me. And that showed on my face.

There was a gentleman accompanying me. He was a tall, fair
and gentle man. Worthy and nice. He was supposed to see me
off in my coach and rush to his. In a span of fast reducing
seconds now.

He saw me struggling with my bags and all. Five steps ahead
of me, he waited.

"Need help?"
"No, I am fine."

We drag two more steps.

"Gimme something"
"Ah? No no..it's okay"

I caught up with him. And when I was right beside him, he
took the packet of chowmein from my hands.
I was so much in splits laughing and laughing and laughing.
But all inside my mind. I had one suit case..a bag to add to that,
on my frail shoulders. But the packet of chowmein was all he
could do to lessen my burden.

And I am still in splits laughing. Wondering about the insignificance
of the moment we shared. The stupidity of it. Of me coming back
and telling about it to my friends. And finally writing it down. Here.

Seasoned Estranged Lover

Congratulations! I have become the seasoned estranged lover. That is precisley why I deleted my last post. Because I no longer am that irrational a soul searcher. Certain things inside my mind have been fixed. Scanned and fixed. 

No crush lasts beyond two days. That is if I let it happen in 
the first place. I have become a staunch non-believer of love. 
I don't understand the concept of it so I doubt the existence 
of it.

Some people tell me that I am desperately in search of 
company. Some people tell me that I am so perennially sad. 
Some people tell me that even company won't buy me joy 
because sad is the way I want to be. 

But there is something I have been doing to myself with time. 
 I have been killing my passion, muscle by muscle. It's been a 
very gradual and effective process. Due to which I now feel 
that I have lost my capacity to love. To love madly. With my 
previous rage...

Whenever I fall in love, I look for a reason. I try to take 
myself away from the intoxication of love and look for the 
reason. But alas, love doesn't have a reason behind it, I guess. 
So before my two days, I fall out of love. 

Hardly anything can intoxicate me. Everything has mellowed 
down. I have answers to the many questions I used to be 
speechless about. 
The Reds have diluted into magentas and browns, blacks andgreys...

~I remember the contours of your face. I remember your hair, hah! The way you used to speak with a pause. The pause that made my heart miss a beat. The pause that made me gasp for breath inside me, and look calm on the outside. And I remember a lot many things. I am fighting my memory for you these days~

~I woke up thrice the same night to complete this post and now it's done. Finally-Salvation!~

Rapunzel & the Guy

I don't agree with the way love happens. Someone important to me, happens to have told me that love starts from the spark of attraction. And I don't want to agree to this. 
My friend Rapunzel helped me out with this. No, she is not an imagination. She is for real. We have been best of friends since we have known each other. And if love has a reason, then friendship should also have one. I am totally in love with my Rapunzel-the 'free spirit'.  

Then came one day, Rapunzel and the Guy became aquaintance. Then they became friends. Then good friends. And now best friends. I hadn't had the slightest idea. As is the case usually, she lived in denial. 

Denial? You know when you are precariously hanging from the thin line between being friends and being in love. Between wanting each other and needing each other. You are confused. And you want time to convince yourself..she said the rose was yellow & not red anyway. 

But I had so given up. I knew that they were spending the rest of their lives with each other. The way I saw him hold her, the way he made her happy, the way a peace prevailed when they were together...

And one fine day, Rapunzel blushed. Turned pink. And told me that they did bow down to the force that love is. Finally! 

A chat on the phone that went night long, followed by a walk to the hill, sunrise, and then the confession of love. Of needing each other. The promise of being there for each other. 

They weren't attracted to each other in the first sight. They spent four long years being just a step away from love. And it happened just a day before they were to graduate...the best way it could ever happen. And I totally agree with this. 

PS: When did wildflower become an optimist? 

I have met you Before

Long long ago. Before we met. Before I fell in love. We had met before, before we met to fall in love. Too many befores. Now the story. 

It was a late summer morning. I was was wondering if I should be off to a gathering of some knowns and some unknowns. I was somewhat younger and going alone to one such place, was a perceived as a risk. A risk because, what if only the unknowns turned up and the knowns didn't. What if I was trapped in a lonely chamber with people I cudn't talk to? 

But nevertheless, like always in life, I took the risk. I wanted to remember some forgotten faces. 

We sat there, under the shade of old neem trees. The hot air, waited. Dry leaves, hung in the air. Time was moving slow. The knowns and the unknowns hung around. Talked stuff. 

And amongst those scores of unknowns, one was Him. I didn't notice him. He hadn't noticed me either. We belonged to some 'unnoticeable'-subspecies of humans. But as I faintly remember, there he was. Somewhere amidst that crowd. A voice lost in the noise. We stood beside each other for sometime. We talked to the same person, without talking to each other. I faintly remember. 

We parted that late summer morning, without knowing that we had met. To meet again. To fall for what seemed inevitable then. And to benumb each other with the opulence of it. But then to break apart, forever. Like.... oh I can't find an example.

And irony is, all the time we were together, I never found the time to tell Him, that -I have met you Before-

the lights are off, there is music, soft& smooth. and there persists the smell of a dry rose in the air. 

Made for Each-Other

After work I was rushing through the busy bylanes of the home-bound city. I had to meet someone. This someone and I had been meeting for a couple months then, and I was in a hurry because I didn't want him to leave and hence stand me up.

If a man and woman meeting this way is called a date, then so be it, call this a date. A Dutch date, if you know what that means.

We had consciously changed the venue from Cafe Coffee Day to this one. To something more open air. Because we wanted it to be more akin to the worlds we lived in, more noisy, more unkempt, more real.

This one was inside some sort of a park. Near the parking lot of the park. We took the table at the corner. That felt like the end of the world because beyond that the bush began that separated the coffee shop from the park. Evenings were a busy time for this place but, you know big cities, no one is concerened what you are upto is such a relief.

Bill boards flashed on my face. Traffic got more messy. But hail the metro! I reached before it got to totally dark. In the dim-lit darkness, I figured out his outline fiddling with his phone. A smile took over all the previous expressions on my face.

Had I been in his place, waiting, I would have stared out into the open. I don't know what this difference between us meant. Nevertheless I came to meet him as it was routine on friday evenings.

I reached the table and dragged my chair out. He kept looking into the phone except for a momentary glance at me. I leaned back on my chair and tossed my hair back. Breathed in deep, relaxed.

I wanted to sit like that for sometime and then get up and leave. My mouth was too tired to talk, eyes too tired to see.

Waiter came in, I ordered my coffee. And sat there trying to get over the day. He kept doing things that would be classified as the antithesis of paying attention. Weren't we just table-mates?

I felt an urge to go home, for my couch. I grabbed my purse, paid and stood up. Almost simultaneously he stood up and said " I will walk you home"
"Walk me home?"
"Hmm yah?"
"You mean till the cab? "
"Why is that a problem?"
"Not at all"

I give up when we start conversing in questions. I almost immediately agree.

~made for each other~

mygodofsmallthings ;)

coming back home every summer had become a default part of the yearly cycle. though she always wanted it to be everything else but it, nevertheless it was. 

with the onset of scorching heat, she would find herself dragging the wheels of her suitcase on the dusty lane that lead home. some trees would have gained delicate new coppery leaves, and some would still be losing them; distant birds would be chattering sweet-shrill calls and she would inevitably find herself sitting on the veranda of the house whose walls had stood mute for a hundred odd years. just sitting there and waiting for it to get evening. and when it gets evening, she would wait for it to get morning. life in summer particularly felt like long waiting sequences interspersed with spells of sullen indifference. 

and so like every year, she was clinking her cup on the saucer and telling herself, this is it. the sugar left an uneasy aftertaste. the one you try to scrape off your tongue by running your teeth on it. 

for a certain while she wondered why nothing grew on the hill facing the house, and then took to her feet. 

the earth had craked up like drought. the surviving creepers waited for the gardener's afternoon water-dash. the mild breeze filling her nostrils was dry enough to suck all the water off her lungs. 

she walked barefeet, all around, in the channels that were dug out to water the plants, in the steps that housed marigold in winter, on the concrete around the banyan trunk, on the sand that has been brought to get the first storey done but had been forgotten eversince.

she walked until the dust getting into the cracks in her feet hurt and until she wet them in the water of the gardener's green hosepipe. she made mud out of it and soaked her feet in it and waited for it to dry. 

later when the power went off, a darkness consumed the house. she sat by the window and stared out. and silence and darkness became the best of friends. 

wildflower ;)

Realization

Last night when I was chewing a chiken leg that tasted like chocolate, I saw a man sitting on the table to my left. I could see his right eye, half of his nose, a little bit of a stubble. The sleeve of his shirt, he's folded a little, left unfolded a little. Frankly, honestly, truly, I found him appealing to the hormones. Any woman would. 

His baritone voice caught me when I caught him almost scolding the waiter. Not that I encourage such rashness. But when it's somewhat crude, the attitude, one gets inclined, doesn't she? When one is bored of the sugar-sweet variety i.e..

So all this kept happening and I was chewing the legs of chocolate. Red brown, tomato brown, chocolate brown. Dreams of capturing and imprisioning Adonis and taking him home to show your friends, the catch!

On his table, whisky on the rocks. The faint golden intoxicating color of alcohol. Things he says once, he's done with. Twenty six-seven? Couldn't be less than that.

He talks business, he talks money. I talk, I giggle with my friend. Once I laugh loud enough to make him turn and look at us. Then I see his left eye and his full face. In my mind, I say, not bad. Good infact!

Then we pay up, get up & leave. I think for the man for five minutes and then my mind moves back to three days ago. To one realization, one truth, that must stand by me, for a lifetime. 

What lay under a face is something I care to know nothing about. I do this being very aware that what lies under the face matters the most. Face is a facade. And I made a casual promise to me, not to get carried away by it. 

What appeals to my mind, will always overrule all that appeals to the eye, to the hormones, i.e. And so be it! 
   

askmewhyidontblogthesedays

& those were the days

-:lonely shadows-:

waynad princess...'

when god made her he added the chin as an ~afterthought~

...love & etc

smile
blush
romance

smile 
blush
and yet again..

wisp of scent
soft music 

and all senses awake

oh! i am so in love with the idea of it