no-men--clatured

though i have never read him, but i am quite the antithesis of what Shakespeare was. i believe in names. names don't matter when i am with the person. they are a like a reluctant grain of sand in the eye once i am estranged. names haunt me, Shakespeare, if you're listening. they do.

the last time i wrote about koel, something must have had me. this is a furtherance of that something. i like calling certain people by their names, the tangy noises they make inside my mind, oh.

one name and i however have somehow never parted ways. it kept re-entering my life after

every interval of a year or two, stayed for sometime, before making an exit, sometimes silent, sometimes sad, sometimes ..

the first kid of that name was one back in school who told me he had a tiny crush on me. it was embarassing and frightening at the same time. we never talked after that, until one day i heard him playing the guitar and became a total fan. i love the guitar, bytheway..

the second person of the name was my proverbial soulmate. time ran out of us, when we talked. thinking like a sane mind now, it frightens me how two individuals connect on every plane possible. two people who could only agree..'yeah..i know..i have been there..i can't agree more..oh'

the third, didn't last much and is hence not worth mentioning..

the last one. the final one. feels like yesterday that i ran into him. on one of those confusing lanes of destiny that bring strangers together, gift them the most breathtaking times of their lives. and break them apart in a way that has the suddenness of a bloodless massacre, the shock of a climactic apocalypse, and the savagery a storm that is followed by a neverending lull.

so i believe in names. a lot..because some are just so stupidly ominous, i can't even tell ya..what it was..

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..

~madness~

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.

Khublei!

Us

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

LOST

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.

RANDOM

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.

YASP V

had you and i been made before words were made

magic would have been a synonym for us,

together

have you noticed how p & q look like they are

always

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..

February

Listen,

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 :)

Strangers in the Night

It was some crazy special evening. At 5 she decided she should celebrate like normal people do. For a change she wouldn't wallow in sorrow any longer, for a few hours. She called up S. S and she were the best of friends. Though she did never believe in friendship, but she fathomed that if she ever began believing in frienship, it could be only for S.

She was kept waiting and waiting beside the highway, waiting to be picked up. At one point of time she wondered if she had been ditched, like always. She thought she would rather get back to wallowing in sorrow, just when S arrived. Later sipping cold and hot coffees alternately, besides other varieties, they watched headlights on the highways merge on the glass walls of the coffee shop. Watching people, chattering away, so lost, yet so much there. Some happy, some absolutely elated, some mischievous, most of them pretending. Travelling to and away from the coffee cup inside her mind, she rested there, calmly. Waited.

S got talking. S talked about her boy-friend. Though she and S were pretty close, they never expected anything of each other. That probably was what made them stick to each other. But she listened on. They shifted to another table on the verandah, in the lawn. Waiters smiled. New faces arrived. S, whose chair was towards the edge had a feeling that she could just fall off. She laughed at the idea of S tipping off her chair.

Later she got talking too. Then she paused. The pause lenghtened. And then became a lingering silence. She wondered if she would rather listen. She wondered if there would ever be another person, who would be solely hers. Who would listen to her, speak. Who would just watch her sleep. Sarcasm became a person inside her and began giggling and she discarded those thoughts..

While walking back home, she wanted to pick up a rose for herself. She asked the guy selling flowers to do away with the thorns. He didn't and said, 'Only when these thorns get into his fingers and make him bleed, and cause him enough pain, he would think of you and love you more.' She ran away from that place before Sarcasm could gather itself and giggle again.

Later that night, she met a stranger though. The stranger became that him for her. He made her laugh and laugh and laugh. And Oh my god, She found out that she had forgotten the sound of her laughter. That night her cheeks ached smiling all the time. She laughed till tears formed in her eyes. And he went on and on and on. She wanted to store some of those smiles for the next day. She wanted every night to be that way. Every day spent waiting for the Stranger she met that night.

Things went on this way for some days. The moment they began talking she forgot who she was. Only thing that was so conspicuosly present was not them but their ripples of joy.

With time, but, their meetings dwindled. Her waits lengthened. She travelled closer to becoming her previous self. She was aware of what was impending. But she waited for him, nevertheless. That wait lenghtened into an unanswered lull. She moved back into her shell. He didn't come back.

The rose withered. And they became strangers again.

Nemesis

Nemesis.

What could be in common between January 2006 and Jannary 2010? Quite a lot I can sense. What followed in the months of February and March led to the worst thing that couldever have happened. The signs are similar this time of the year. Fouryears and my life hasn't taken leap. Yet.

I despise deja vu. It makes life predictable, of all things.

Beyond the fear of failure, is failure. The only favor that Failure does is, it takes away that fear. It makes you way more, way more bold. It doesn't make you callous, but brave, nevertheless.

It does. It does. It does.

Beyond Nemesis, is a tiny hope. A hope that tells me that life still hides within itself the slightest chance. That chance of springing back to life. Again.

B-reft.

I have never been taken care of. Never been told what to do. More importantly what not to do. Never been told that I am a child. Never treated like one. I have learnt things the hard way. My way. Falling. Getting up. Dragging my feet and walking again. All my life I have lived alone. Trembling with fear on dark unending nights I have evaluated the options at hand. I have taken my own decisions. Commited my own mistakes. Suffered my own regrets. Cried alone. I have been expected to behave like an adult. I missed growing up. I believe I was born this way. I have made myself into all that I am. And I have so got into this habit of being by myself, that now anything else looks like an impossibility. A possibility I have been bereft of. I do all my stuff thisway. I shop alone. I scream for cabs alone. I walk alone. I live alone. And now I wonder why. Now I cry why not?

I have never been taken care of. Never been told what to do. More importantly what not to do. Never been told that I am a child. Never treated like one. I have learnt things the hard way. My way. Falling..Getting up.. Dragging my feet and..

Fluctuating Loyalties

I was looking at a someone's picture and smiling like you often do. And then a second later I looked my phone and it occured to me that I was waiting for another someone's call. For the next few moments, in the dark template of my blog, I gaped at myself, wide mouthed. Something was seriously wrong. I was infatuated to two people at the same time. Unconsciously moving away from the first someone, and conscioulsy closer to the second someone. Does this read adulterous already?

Something similar had happened with me a few years ago. You know you are only perfectly normal if you have scores of crushes. So I happened to meet two of my previous flames at the same time and at the same place. Then followed my platinum opportunity to see them sit side by side. I took the liberties to juxtapose them. I tried to figure our similarities between them to spot my favorite traits and differences to judge if my taste had matured with time. I also compared my madness about the two of them in the two different periods of my life. That afternoon I sat down there infront of them both and quietly carried out this experiment in the world's oblivion. From then on I started having a perspective of my own. And I concluded that I am never to be taken seriously. Till date, I stick, humbly to that conclusion.

But now, I am almost two-timing. Sacrilegious. I understand this doesn't cause any harm of any sort to any of the three of us. But nevertheless. I am stuck in between the two of them. I am in between of nowhere. I wish this transition paces up a little. I hate being stuck, anyway.

asphyxia

my phone beeped. battery fully charged, please remove charger.

i had expected a message. i have been wanting a message for long. any message. just any

when i woke up, three hours ago, i was lapped up in sweat. everymorning i try this simple activity of trying to convince myself that i am just fine. may be i just dreamt bad. of something very horrible. but i can't remember any dream. but my subconscious is too nervous to face the day even if i feign a dutch courage. i keep telling myself that i am just fine.

it is the best way, the way it is now. there are certain things i can't afford and hence shouldn't think about them much. i want to be told so..again and again

i hate cold, fog, green. i hate hills. i despise pine trees. i love the dust and warmth of the plains. i want the noise of the traffic back in my life. that was some noise after ll, more soothing than this deathly silence that prevails and threatens to engulf.

how easy is it going to be, to cease to exist. is it going to be better than the life that would have continued beyond that voluntary choking myself to death?

Arunima

she took the 12:15 local to her mother's place. no screaming for cabs, no hurry for life. she walked down, her baby clinging to her fast asleep even in that peak traffic rush. her bag stuffed with baby food, diapers..another zip had a purse with certain change, a comb incase it got windy and a cell phone that kept her searching everytime it rang. but she never panicked while looking for it. even if it stopped ringing and she couldn't find it even then, she never..

an hour later when she knocked her mother's door, she opened it, messed up in a crumpled nightie. looks they shared were obvious, no greetings exchanged. the traffic noise lost its impact inside the house. shiny marble tiles, cold and black, on which the baby would crawl and play, once up..

the day glided at its own merry pace and paused whenever it felt like. the dal in the pressure cooker whistled once and again. it woke her up from lazy day dreams she had staring out of the window on the ninth floor at the unruly cabbies underneath. at distant smoke. watching life happen, this way, from a height was all she wanted to do. indifferent, uninvolved and away..

watching the baby sleep quietly was quite another thing. playing with his nose and tickling his lips.. waking him up and biting her lips once he began crying..was yet another thing..

later post three, she would knead dough and flatten balls of it..watch her mother blow them up on a tawa she wondered had always been that black..they would watch soaps in which she would keep confusing between characters and guessing the story ahead..not looking for much spice and leaving life as it was..

sipping cups of sugary tea, sitting on the swing in the portico, watching afternoon become evening..watering her mother's potted plants...playing with mud and clay..

she would take the 6:30 local and be home by the time he came home.

later she would pinch herself to believe if life could be that impeccably normal..

Arunima..

M

some faces are merging into others..the mind is loosing track of time..looking for the past in the present..it is very difficult to draw that thin line between what is and what is no more

travelling unbelievable distances in fractions of seconds..i enter hidden chambers of darkness..and see unexpected flashes of light again

i suffere from a pathetic fear of failure..this fear makes me drag my body with my soul..which would have departed long ago..but for this fear

what is sad is my inability to accept the passing of time..the inevitable forward movement of things..when all i want to do is..hold on to moments for now..and relive the ones that are past

and it is this inability that is killing me now..

..time is like sand that i hold in my fist..the tighter i hold on to it..the faster it slips out from between my fingers..

and i can't bear to see time die this way..my time..

Walks To Remember-6

Our cab hadn't moved an inch in the last twenty minutes, that traffic could put a snail to shame. We

decided walk down the distance.

'You don't have dust allergy, do you?', he asked. I wondered if this one was better than his previous conversation starter which was something like gazing at a bsnl 3g billboard and saying, 'doesn't she look like a

snake?'

'You do?', he quipped again.

'What? Dust allergy? no. why should i?'

'I thought you had the same zero-tolerane policy for

everything in life'

I was trying to figure out what had caused that kind of a jam. Turned out that some stupid festival the city hosted was having its closing ceremony. And all highways were choked. He poked in again as we slipped in between cars that had hopelessly turned off their engines. 'Hey Look!' ,he said pointing at the sky that was lit up with breathtaking fireworks..thanks to the same cause that was making us so walk the talk.

'I wonder if we could afford such a waste'

'You think it's your money they are burning rightaway, don't you?

I looked up at him and said, 'Did you know that fifty percent of this state is struggling bpl?'

'How do you make it a point to be sad about everything dude?

'Don't call me dude'

The impasse got moresevere. I am talking about the one on the road. The one in between us somehow never surprises me. We probably are tryin to understand each other's silences. And most of our tete-a-tetes remore like a war of words. Any one would prefer silence.

'Why don't you wear heels?'

'What?', i feigned a surprise.

'Why don't you wear heels?'

'Why should I?'

'We will look better that way, I guess'

'Why do 'we' need to look better? Can't you just let it be the way it is?'

'See nine inches is not a difference, it's almost a gulf,

don't you think?

I gave him one hell ofa sarcastic stare.

'Oh, the point is everytime we talk I don't want you to crane your neck with an eighty-five degree angle of inclination. See you already have spondylitis'

I tried to hold my laughter tight between my cheeks. I wondered why tall guys were ominous and always brought me bad luck.

Eventually my cheeks gave up though..

There is something here that I think you can spare one read for..


WTR-5

other trivia.

for a change i will not write about love.

right now i am too nervous to face my own life. i see a fear of rejection everywhere. it's like i cannot accept myself when i am rejected by the system or any particular person. i judge myself, every moment of my life. if i stop doing that i get guilt pangs. my system has been assembled to believe that following free will is equivalent to sinning.

today my inbox is spammed by the google groups of the colleges i went to. colleges in which i wrote exams in which my answers were independent and irrespective of the questions. i still slogged the night before and somehow cried just to get through. i lost my ambition in this rat race. the rat race that is inevitable and ubiquitous in my life. my six years of college. that breathlessly gasping and running to classes on shampooed wednesdays and sleepy saturdays. those nights of sleeping like a drunkard. and stealing time to write this blog. i just wanted to get through whatever everyone wanted to get through. i never asked myself what i wanted. never had the chance or the time to.

am i a victim of the system? i confess everytime a someone blames the system i break irrevocably into mute peals of stomach splitting laughter. the system is rather my victim. people ask me for advice. oh dear god, i just keep repeating the above mentioned activity .

i am been so pathetically victimised that today i am an advocate of this system. i have begun to believe in degrees. i have begun to believe that studying in branded colleges matters. i have abandoned ideas of following passion as a comical midsummer night's dream. it doesn't work out that way.

i have a passion for writing. i love writing. but i don't know if i would be able to make a living out of it. will writing sustain my interest if i take it seriously. don't i love writing just because no one forces me write? i am lazy by default and if you don't kick me i wont work. and i wont even write, probably. i will just laze around.

so i need a system like ours that makes me work, and scares the hell out of me. i am conditioned to live with fear. it's difficult to imagine a life without it.

for the last month or so,this is what mylifehas been revolving around.

and given a chance i would maintain a status quo

koel

the first time i met koel she was a bird who sang sitting on a random branch of an unknown tree near my window in the early mornings of late February. she made me realise how tied up i was by the unwanted things in my life then. i wanted to be left in the wild like her and be onmy own. break the shackles or things that seemed so..like shackles

the second time i met koel she had become a girl that wrote everything in plump letters in hard bound note books with coarse dirty white sheets of paper. sometimes i took time off some time and stared at the ink sink into the paper. those letters were going to stay forever. i am the one who is effervescent. koel had thin eyes above plump cheeks. she had anwers to any question asked and neatly performed zoology experiments sitting beside me in a laboratory that smelled ancient. that koel must have become a doctor now.

the third koel i met was a river. i never went to her though. i always heard she was a quiet river that flowed lining in the borders of the hilly town i lived in for years. i wanted to go to her bed once or twice to see the sunrise or sunset. but many warned me that there lived dangerously uncouth fishermen or muggers. so i did never visited koel. nevertheless she came to me in my thoughts and dreams..i imagined stretches of lonely sand on dusty evenings. there must have been wild winds, and trees whose silhouttes made it impossible for me to recognise them. i saw stray dogs and a sad sunset. a reddish-blackish-reddish sky. i was happy i never madeit to koel, that i thought would have stopped me from dreaming so ..

tAggeD?

mydark resolutions for TWENTY-TEN:-

Drugs->

the past doesn matter. the future shudn matter..

so if D***s liberate me @ present from the pain of the past an' the fear of the future....then yea, sumtym sumwhr ..

Sexual Fantasy->

N/A

Wanna kill someone->

Oh I wud luvta kill lotcha ppl but can't name dem here coz they proly read me :P

but on a serious note yaah der are ppl i wish had neva existed on d surface of th planet. that wud've made ma life a lil easier.

Wanna make a voodo of someone and hurt him->

him? Can't it b a her ;)

for once i wish i cud shut ppl who talk too much crap..!

@ aman..thnx 4 d tag :)

so this is whatt it luks like, even if it looks incurably stupid :D & forgive my inability to provide morbid details due to the lack of any experience in any of the above fields.. lol

StalkedFinally

somewhere in time the forces inside me stopped fighting. they totally left me at some random zero-energy level. then on i stopped trying in life. i stopped trying because i didn't want anything out of life. i avoided unnecessary acquaintance. but those things could never get on my nerves, even then. their presence was as good as their absence. i was anyway lost somewhere within myself. i haven't essentially talked in years, or so i feel. depression has made way for staunch indifference. i quit wearing earrings. lost my ability to believe. to hope. i have been painfully at peace. i never color my nails. red, never. i keep wondering that this must be life's way of making the wise out of the foolish. the seasoned out of the adolescent. i like not to talk much. listening is involuntary and never happens.

but now an x has come out of th blue. x's absence is more conspicuous than x's presence. x has taken me back a few years or has made me as vulnerable as then. with x, i laugh a lot. i want to undo the above-mentioned process of seasoning. i'm afraid i'm beginning to believe, again.

x hasn't seen my face yet. and i'm wondering beneath my silver veil.

PS: this picture is unrelated to thispost.

yet, this is where it has to be.

YASP IV

chasing a faceless man again, succumbing to his whims, waiting endless nights, broodin over hundred possibilities, cryin over the impossibilities, indulgin in wishful thinkin that in retrospect feels criminal, i am wastin away, promisin maself the curse of another heart break, yet another era of numbness, sorrow that can't be fathomed, sorrow that can be cynically laughed at years later, days of yearnin for his company, wakin up with his thoughts ingrained..

one thing i am gonna gift myself for sure this new year is a feel of perfect deja vu.. ;)

Walks To Remember-5

read WTR-4? Y/N

'Hey..'

Oh that's his new cosmo way of greeting people huh? He's changed.

I must've changed too. Let's find out & fix it. once and for all..

Ismiled, slowly reluctantly..

'I had heard that you ae here, in this city'

'Now that you've seen me, you know I am here..' i said with a tinge

of sarsastic obviousness..

'So whatare you doin here?'

'Here as in now?'

'okay, what the hell re yu doin here, at this late an hour? you aren't

lost or anything right?'

like he cared? I laughed in my mind..

He laughed out aloud, I didn't want to ask him why.. we were

standin in the middle of nowhere, people zooming past, time gliding

by.Yet i was unable to realise the enormity of the situation, of

having met someone from the past who i had absolutely no chances

of meeting. and in a matter of minutes he would be gone never to

meet me again. could ihold these certain seconds in my hands.

'I can walk you till the taxi stand?'said he.

Nothanx I can walk onmy own.whattajoke!

'You said something?'

'Yes'

'and what was that?'

'What?'

'yeah, what did you say?'

'Did you hear me say something?'

'Nope Ididn't'

'How else do you suppose that I said something? You can read

minds orsomething?'

'Oh fire!'

I turned up toface him and smiled at his now surprised face.

another untitled

we spent the rest of our days taking random walks from one point in the city to another. stopping wherever we felt like to have coffee, buy chocolate or other trinkets. not one moment were we reminded that the chances of another meeting in future, near or far was remote. the new found luxuries were courtesy, the chauffeur driven car that would pick us up no matter where we were stuck. we could concentrate on the other better things that deserved a space in our spheres of cognisance

we walked our evenings away on the sidewalk of an eight lane highway, to and fro. when we felt we had reached our proverbial endpoint, we reversed. on the way we made a list of the places we would love to go to but would never make itto, and then laughed at ourselves. real loud.

we walked opposite to the vehicles so that they don't get to see our faces and we kept crossing the highway and switching directions at random, again, whenever we felt like

sometimes we lost ourselves in smoke. mostly that smokecame from the cigarette. otherwise weburnt ourselves to make up all that smoke. mostof the time silence was like a third person between us. otherwise ourstrings matched to an unhealthy extent and the symphony of that resonance was almost deafening  

#hangover of jargon#

shelly: U know everythin
B: yeah, now I do
shelly: yet, this is the way you choose to be
B: I don't want to hurt you shelly
shelly: Yu'l hurt me anyway
B: silent
shelly: anyway yu'l go away, leavin shelly
the way she was
B: I wish i could do anythin but that
shelly: but that's what u'l ultimately do, B.
B: B'l do anythin to lessen your hurt
shelly: then be nice to me now, the way
yu've always been. 'coz that's precisely why
i fell for you and i want not to fall out of
it..anymore, now
B: this hasno future shelly. ths can't be an
asset in the long term. all that we do
nowwill be a liability of sad memories for
the rest f yur life..
shelly: no jargon B. shutup.
B: okay shelly!
shelly: i want to strike a judicious trade-off
between a long term liability of sad
memories and one moment of nascent
happyness now..
B: anythin for you?
shelly: Anyway you will hurtme B 'coz yu ar
goin away. it's a matterof few months an
then i won't see anymore of yu//..
B: right.
shelly: you have two ways of goin about it.
you can hurt me now or you can hurt me
later.

i ask you to hurtme laterr,please..not now

don't think about the future, just b the B
shelly's known..shelly's fallen for, with a
thudd..!

B: yeah, alr8..



Quote in the Pic: Over 2.85 lakh women read the Economic Times

Walks To Remember-4

read WTR-3? Y/N

Desire? What is that?

It's been three years I moved out of that place. Where I was stuck

for sometime. That one moment when I thought I almost found

you. But you walked away into the dark and refused to come back.

And I ended up in a city with lots of cabs, none when you need one.

A place where there are more people and I am only lonlier. The

traffic is so sluggish and life is as fast. It's breathtaking. Life is life

threatening attimes. And I haven't thought once about you all these

years.

I was walking down the flight of stairs that take me home. The dull

lightof the evening was profound. Someone was playing music. I

stood for a while and walked on..

I realised that I had been following a black blazer for long. Doesn't

matter. Round the corner he would obviously take some turn and I

will take the other. And I would be alone again.

Taking random rounds, twice thrice, when I have had enough of

my hopeless pondering I would take a cab to the place I call home.

I wish I could record the name of my place andkeep replaying it

everytime a cab passes me, making memore hopeless by the minute.

Every face around is a strange one. Though the place seems strangely

familiar. The black blazer has turned around.

In the faint light, he gives me a hint. I have known him. I get

curious first. Nervous then. Frozen fingers to sweaty palms.

It's you.

One of my usual Saturday evenings, I was trying to find my way

back through the dark, but I found you. You.

..to be continued

YASP-III

when god made you

he must have been drunk

that's how

yu probably

got his eyes

passionately red

and searching

for god knows who

Temptation is good.

But Indulging & Regretting is even Better.

YASP-II

life is a silent dame

she doesn tellme

where shez takin me

i jus hope

that she is takin me

only

closer to you

YASP

One of my girlfriends found herself a cute guy. And the guy found

her in return. She wanted me to come over and meet. That meant

one thing- I would need to behave myself.

My opinions were obviously no more welcome. I was supposed to

make my presence felt as someone greatly elated with whatever

happens. And yet not cross those borders around passivity. And yet

be there for them. It is not as complicated as it seems. I have been

out with couples and prospective couples, before.

There was a phase when my opinions were asked for and

considered. There was a phase I was tired of romantic-consulting

offered free of cost. The questions made were on the lines of 'Will he

be right for me?' and in more sentimental modes of feminine

submissiveness 'Do I deserve him?' and etc. All those questions

were to be answered reassuringly affirmatively. Followed by many

chocolate-sauce-on-the-brownie sms's (or whatever the plural of

sms is). Sometimes third persons warn me I shouldn't push people

into relationships. But I hardly ever do that. They are willing

anyway.

This meeting was imperative. It was like a promise we made when

we were blossom buddies. Walking dark roads on cold evenings

throughout college, these were some of the treaties signed. To

show each other the person we were so going to live the rest of our

lives with. So she was simply complying to one such

understanding..

And the job is fun too. I will tell you why. As girls we shared some

typical notions. Now looking at those things happen for real would

be looking at the past through a wall of glass. You can see

everything so clearly and yet can't get back. Every moment you

feel like telling her how she thought he should be so-and-so but

now he has turned out to be not-so-and-not-so. But since she has

lost all sense of logic you dont utter a word except uttering what's

so a part of etiquette. You wonder how good the guy has made the

transition from 2-D to 3-D. From the pics of him that she sent you,

to real person of flesh and blood you are going to lose her to.

Relationships break away friendships. But I understand. That's life.

It probably is a set of ever changing priorities.

PS: YASP is for Yet Another Silly Post

Vent.

I hate the situation where in I know a change is imperative and I

further know that I have the guts in me to bring it about, but I am

not doing so and I have no excuse to substantiate my inaction. I

allot half the blame on the situation, rest to me. The fact that I am

an escapist stares me in the eye. And I take it lying down.

My cell phone has been having problems with me lately. And my

laptop is ditching me to add to it. With the two most significant

characters of my life conspiring against me at the same time, I am

screwd.

I stick to deadlines. EOD means End of Day..and not a second after

that. But there are few people who believe that Day Ends at 5 pm.

And such people are the people I cannot take.

That brings us to another caveat. I have no space for things and

people who are illogical. (Some things are exempted from the

wrath of this statment). We all like things that are straight-cut. We

all do. Such People who define norms, pretend that they are not

loving those norms themselves but do not let me defy them either,

by their over-imposing presence. And fret about it. WTF~

I do not open my mouth until I am provoked. Before that

everything is but waste of time and energy. I despise Desperate

Partcipations of people. I absolutely loathe people who play the

language game i.e. who make poor lil simple things look very very

complicated. I abhor 'bakar' and all its distant cousins.

By default I am a lazy human. I work only when and only when not

working would absolutely not do, i.e. if I were a cell phone, that

'Emergency Calls Only' thing would be perennially written on my

face. But I understand my core responsibilities. And I hope that you

understand that this doesn't contradict me being an escapist

otherwise.

Some People(*) blame me that I write about love and only about it

and that I am some stupid frustrated female, this is especially for

them.. many of them would like be here on my blog anyway..

Yes I am frustrated. Not just with love, but with a dozen things

besides that. I am frustrated with the way you (*) are!

And You(*) can go on only until one fine rainy day, I am provoked.

taken away

me: are you upset?

K: not a bit.

me: honestly?

K: if there is a thing mundane that still has the power to upset you then you aren't quite accustomed to life as it is.

me: oh! but you could simply tell me what happened instead of playing a word game.

K: let's not analyze and evaluate the situation this way. everythin fades. everythin needs a little bit of time to do so.

me: you want me to leave you alone?

K: no.

me: ok..

Pause..Long Pause

me: imagine you are on a highway..

K: okay..then?

me: the sunset is getting closer and you're alone

K: so..

me: So, do you want music of any kind?

K: Yeah..!

me: any song in particular?

K: No, I don't want music..

me:and do you want to move a little back in time?

K: where is that supposed to taken me?

me: to the afternoon we left behind.

K: alright..afternoon

me: It's cloudy now..had been sunny day. Do you hear any sounds?

K: yes of course, there are others zooming past..

me: and they are honking..that sound stretches across the air and stays with you for some seconds after its gone..

K: yeah..

me: but you're takin it slow..

K:yeah I am very tired of speed. Genuinely tired of it..

me: and so you're sticking to the edge of the highway, letting others leave you behind and not caring a bit about it.

K: yeah..not caring a bit about it..

me: do you like what you see?

K: I see tall trees on both sides..merging on top of the road

me: like forming a canopy/

K: I see fields of lush green..of probably paddy

me: and you want to get down and find for yourself?

K: yeah..

short Pause..

K: they have been watered sometime back, i think. that moisture has drenched the air

me: and that air you breathe in..isn't it enlivening?

K: Let's get back on the highway? I want a walk

me: can you see the milestone? what does it say?

K: Can't read. It's dark now. Don't care to read. Not all distances wants to be measured..

me: Do you know your destination?

K: No

me: you're walking away on the highway. And now the sunset is approaching. Cars with their headlights on zoom in and out of vision, blinding you for a while, and in between yu see the the road ahead in a semi-lit darkness.

K:Hmm..

me: Very few things matter to you now. You can see through life..

K:

Pause..Long Pause

K: you there?

me: -jerked out of sleep- are you done?

X-X-X

I am a seasoned stoic.

And in this I see my only Bliss

I write not because it is my passion

But because it is my only respite.

once Upon stilettos..!

did you graduate?

mm? ||surprise takes over my face||

or in the final year?

Uh..nope. i did.. '09

okay! cool

yeah. very

it's been two years.. you lose track of thins ||matteroffactly||

yep i know ||stupid grin-you keep jumblin up the girls yu met-for future ref: pls remember

there is only one order ..chronological||

so where is it that you work? ||obviousness again-yu'r sure about everythin uh||

oh no place unfortunately has had the privilege to have me workin fothem.. || forced smile||

||he breaks into sly laughter|| an why so?

caz equally unfortunately i'vn had the privilege to work fothem..

||silence-mild questionin eyez||

still studyin.. masters

oh!

yeah.. ||purely an powerfully smilin now-sayin that 'yeah' thrice inside my mind or more||

NB: Your life is the collection of people you'v met. An' so is mine. An' it neen't be any other

way but this. I'l live with the meanagerie they'v creat-ed inside me.

afternoon..

there have been long afternoons and i have roamed around

in the shrinking sunlight. where i lived was a place far away.

there were bunches of guava trees. old mango trees with

trunks very wide. scrapping off their bark was my favourite

game and also gathering yello leaves that had fallen off the

boughs onto the ground. the noon-shy soil, that would be

moistened by the dew all night.

of flowers i remember moonbeam. and of course hibiscus

that had branches entwined, so that snakes could live in

them, peacefully. i dug in small holes the in ground and put in

them the stems of the hibiscus buds that i plucked. and in the

morning i looked at them an wondered what made them

bloom into flowers so full.

moonbeam and hibiscus taught me the colors i know, white

an red, black came much later. there were jackfruit trees a

couple of decades old. and i remember being told, who had

planted which, and if a ghost lived under it. because late in

the evening when you are asked to run from one home to

another, you may come across a beautiful girl with her face

hidden behind a white veil, sitting under the jackfruit tree like

she was both praying and waiting. and you are supposed to

know that she is a ghost.

there were herds of monkeys that came hunting in the

afternoon. they were chased off the orchard. sometime in a

forced siesta you would hear a tree branch break and you

would know they have arrived. then i would tip-toe into the

courtyard before anyone wakes up to makes cups of milky

tea that were to be served in maroon cups with broken

edges, later in the afternoon. the mokeys who were chased

off the orchard would be quietly waiting on the roof. i

remember givin them brinjals and cucumber and the leaves

of cauliflower..and looking at them eat, and then slitherin

back on to the bed like i never got up..

such were my afternoons. but one day came a mighty storm

and wiped it all off my life. now it's like remembering things

that never happened/..