wickedflower

There are certain truths about myself that I might never want to convey. Even though my blog is another me and here I put I put up almost anything, I have certain uncertainties inside myself I would never like to talk about.

Here I have a lot of candyfloss stuff put up. I write about being estranged and lovelorn. I honestly write down my emotions, my passions. Some stories are completely fictitious. Some are nothing else but the truth. And some are in between. The ones that occured to me when reality extended to a somewhere and imagination took over from there on.

But THIS is not I am all about. THIS could be a facet ; or rather a facade!

I have a certain substance in me. And I want to talk about it. Some ambition to win, some to absolutely outstrip the peers. A part of me wants to be barbaric, at times, running like a cheetah and grabbing by the neck anything it wants to possess. At times looking at blood ooze makes me such a voyeur. And then I forget to cry and begin to laugh like an insane. Sometimes I love fire and smoke and darkness. Sometimes I just want to break-free. An sometimes I just go DIZZY!

'hello?
hey..hii
how have you been..all these days..lon time yaa
what? no way..are you kiddin me?
if you re serious..thats great news
who is it? some ol friend? do i know her?
Colleague!hmm..
guess all this happend very fast, none of us even got the slightest hint..
o ya? true love and all..haha!
oh of course.how can i not come to your wedding?
yea..for sure ..'

after the call, i felt like holding my heart, in case it falls off my chest. began crying.

wanted to call back and say

'i m sure ur joking..right..tell me you are
getting married is a serious thing... m sure ur aware
and what makes u think this isn't just a fling/
u knw it could be..give it some more time
give me somemore time
how can you marry someone else but...'

to get over it i took a bath that felt like sauna. and then a cold shower/ and warm again... and it kept goin on that way for around an hour.

Couldn't swallow any breakfast. Walked the roads like a zombie. thnkin of old days.. a terrible pang of lonliness took over every part of me. i wanted so badly to talk.

waited for it to be lunch time. as me and my frappe' sat alone-together on a table, my mind kept ditching me every now and then. my insides were feeling terrible. i was making sure if all that had actually happened in the morning, i might have dreamt of it..or something. i felt lost, orphaned and totally abandoned.

later in the evening i went to the coffee shop. Took one of those chairs they have for singletons, fixed near the glass walls. I stared out and saw the world being quietly engulfed by the dusk. The cofe noir, between my palms, made me feel warm. I looked at the people hurrryin by. and looked into myself. Finished my coffee and ran to the gift shop next door to get him the wedding gift he deserved...

Things I did:

• *There was a certain point on the road where many roads met. I looked around. There was this Raymond board claiming a fabric for every occasion and another a Riya an Abhay smiling on two edges of a bill board,and many others. Also there were many vehicles running past. So what did I do? Idid nothing.I just stood there.
  

• *From nowhere a good looking guy appeared. What made my eyes stick to him for few more seconds was that he bore a stark resemblance to a friend of mine. And there was also this nice girl walkin beside him. Probably they were hurrying their way home. Meanwhile her shawl was slipping down. He help her put it back in place, you know, hide her thin hands from the cold and all. And they continued hurryin their way home. A minute later, I still stood in a corner and kept looking at them till they became silhouette. And till they were completely out of view. Sort of a passive fixation, you know.
  

• *The other day we met some people. A man, his wife and their kid. The man, used to be woman. S/he married her friend. I was wondering if the kid knows about it. Oh of course it doesn't. Only we do. Because some remnant feminine features on his face die hard!
  

• *Alright! I should call it a day. I have been watchin three movies per day for the past three days. And that is somewhat a too much for my below average human mind. And as a repercussion, inside my mind I have these strange voices (belonging to the movie characters) commenting on everything I see, hear, smell or feel. Feels very weird. Feels like I am going mad, gradually, because Ican't think about anything,because before I begin thinking,thesevoices begin to chatter inside my head. The chambers of my mind get so boisterous that today I tripped and fell down in the middle of the road.
  

• *Sometimes my mind wonders to my favorite short story which is "The Babus of Nayanjore" by Tagore in which the protagonist says Kusum is a 'useless commodity in the marriage market' because she is dusky. And later he falls in love with her deep black beautiful eyes, when he sees her crying. Tagore andI connect alot. Smetime back I even had the illusion thatwe shared the same birthday.
  

• *And Iam going nuts about Mark Rufallo. Whoever the guy is, he isso genuinely handsome, man! He has such nice understanding features. An he shows it all right onhis face. He is so completely messed up like me, so completely lostand in search of help.
  

• *I met a cousin lately. I was about to ask her about her kid. I had completely forgotten that they hadlost it a year ago. Strange are the way things are. We humans, come to terms with everything. Well almost everything!
  

• *Am I insane? Well not totally! I will find myself./

A thought of winter

After a string of failures, throughout the whole year, I have come home. The tree trunks haven’t
grown any wider. A soft music fills the air underneath the green canopy in the backyard though. And of course there is the onset of winter.

Early morning the fog tears apart to show long lanes of coconut trunks. Drops of dew hanging from the bark and nascent sunlight.

An hour later the soil is dried up. The trees are out of their sleep and brown dead grass shows itself at a distance.

I sit down and begin to write on a yellowed page of my diary

“I want to die with this thought
clutched close to my heart
that once, through these years
your heart tilted towards …”

I am too unsure of the word after towards. I don’t write it.

This is a letter again, I am writing, from one fictitious person to another. From one girl in the hills to her dying elder cousin, from a mother to her crazy baby daughter, from a wild heart to her lover. I have loved the cover of anonymity. Nobody can blame you for whatever you’ve written because you were but another person when you wrote it all. Sometimes I also felt like a hypocrite, shouldn’t one stand by what someone writes?

But I’ve always hated questions because I’ve been unable to answer them. My palms go sweaty, feet tremble. I felt it all so much all over again that I felt I would fall off my chair.

I opened the diary again. I wanted to write something in it. I wanted to write a book. A book that’ll undo all my failures, this winter.

~Sunrise

"Which mad man opened the windows at this deathly hour...Grr!!!" I screamed hiding beneath a couple of blankets ,"Pleasee... shut them...I'm gonna die of this cold"
"It's six thirty...come on now!"
" I need to sleep for like seven more hours...And what's six thirty? I have never
seen a six thirty!"
"Alright! I will show you what it's like."
"No pleaseeee"

A moment later I saw light all around. The cold numbed my flesh. He'd pulled me out of the blanket.
"My toes will freeze..And what are we dying to see at this hour?"
"You don't need to put your feet on the floor, love."

I blushed but feigned a reluctance.
He carried me to the terrace that way and I was sinking my face into his chest for dear life.

"Now open thy eyes. See how the sun smiles at us"

Orangish red/Reddish Orange? "The light hurts, It's too bright and I'm too sleepy"
"It wont anymore...look at me?"
And then I looked into his eyes...

~Sunrise, Sunrise, Looks like morning in your eyes~
~May we be this way, for now & forever~

~ObituarY~

There was this lazy afternoon lecture going on, the professor gurgled away insignificant notes. And she sat right there, thinking of the futility of it all, learning things that never mattered to her. She wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere far. Was she an escapist? Never mind.

There was this involuntary process of writing down everything the prof, wrote on the board. She was going a little restless. Looking up the time every five minutes. When was this going to end? Random thoughts trickled into her mind. And she was wondering how many things in her life were out of order. How many did she want to fix? What all she’d missed out, what all fate had denied her, what could be the worst consequences of this clinical lethargy, procrastination…and then she was asking herself whether she wanted to change for the better? And then the answer was a No!

In the midst of all this, there was this thud inside her and also outside. It was somewhat sudden. She felt things stopped working inside her. And then she ceased to feel anymore. She held on to a hand for help. But she came crashing down. A deep twitch of pain had her then…She lay on the floor with eyes open for a second or two. And then died.

~On the 24th of November '08...~2:30 in the afternoon~

Because!

Because you hate life and I don't
Because both of us are in search for ourselves
Because neither has even the time to grab a breakfast
We run and rush

Because, right now I am concentrating on ma career..haha!
Because I need another five years to settle down in my life
And you will need ten more...

Because we need to find ourselves first, each other next, love then...and peace last!

And I would like to unwind in the weekend, lying down beside a series of ghastly movies, go out, splurge on my own money...and dream to make it bigger...but focussing all my energies on just one single person? Sorry, but I am far too selfish for that...

Guess a lot of other things could deserve that hell lot of attention!

And well! This is mere attraction, isn't it? Everything that is, is nothing but a fad, an infatuation.

Nothing is love.
Love is nothing.

And someday in time, we'l outgrow, whatever it was...love/infatuation/crap...whatever! We'l move on...

HAHAHA!

1. favor8 color: Black
2. favor8 vegetable: Tomato
3. woman of substance: Shakira~~~
4. A regret: NA
5. A good thing: Guy I loved, din’t love me back. Would have been disastrous otherwise.
6. Best things ever: Anything that’s soporific and Intoxicating. Coffee being neither is like ma eternal love, nevertheless!
7. What’s on the cards: writing a book is on the cards. *sarcastic laughter*
8. Perfect day out: getting lost in a jungle and rain dancing my way to salvation
9. Thing I learnt: Not all tall guys are good and not all short guys are bad
10. Worst thing about a woman: having to pluck your brows every two weeks.
11. Senility has arrived when: you move on from Garnier yellow to Garnier Red (Only the conscious females would know )
12. Worst thing about me: I chew ma nails!!
13. Favor8 words: “Pathetic!” & “O My GawD-Kill me Now!”
14. Most Unforgettable compliment I e’er got: Can’t write it down here ;). Someone might just know that I considered it o-so-unforgettable!
15. People I HATE the most: Hypocrites! I hate myself when I become one.

Silvy

These days Silvy goes out a lot. Out as in, not outside, but out of her mind for sure.

Silvy...dense woods, dark woods, cool and at peace!
Silvy... rickety buildings and dusty roads, bustling streets and yet lonely streets...

Tossing her hair back, she glanced at her watch.
She was in no hurry.But doing that was to show that she was in one.
Catching up with time every three minutes when she walking alone,was another
way of making herself and people believe that she was indeed occupied and not thinking about the mundane plight her life is subject to, when she actually was thiking about it, and thinking pretty hard at that.

Beside the watch, something that quietly tied the wrist was a thick black thread.
That reminds her of the soothsayer she'd been to, some Sunday.In her mind, she laughed out loud. Very loud.

Sometimes we could be so foolish, so-so foolish to have believed that a thread could indeed change our lives. Our murky lives. And there were also stones and other junk.
Silvy had a box of them by now. She kept them quietly in her closet. Besides the other mysteries. And there were other mysteries for sure.Some between the yellowed pages of an old diary and some between one layer of the heart and another.

Sometimes she took them all out though. To have a good laugh. She would toss the stones onto her bed and laugh again. She wanted those vibrations in her facial muscles to last a moment longer.

And the she would go quiet as she read the pages of the diary. And amongst those dateless entries and faint memories, Silvy would try to remember. Which year was that? What month? Was it by any chance a winter? And what had made those words leave her heart?

And then she would lie on her back and hold them close to her chest. Stare at the ceiling. For sometime, before pretending to be in a hurry again!

~ My life has taken a strange turn. Well it always keeps on taking turns, sometimes fortunate, but more often than not, otherwise. Just that this one does arouse a different feeling altogther. Different because I'm not feeling like a failure altogether. May be I'm feeling more than just that. Or may be I'm least concerned.

Just indifferent to what is happening to me, deaf to my own voice.

It's been a long time that this has been irking me, shaking me out of my otherwise peaceful 5 hour sleep.

And I tend to get worried and the lost sleep doesn't come back to me. I have used this feeling of impending failure to threaten my resources to work the best out in them. And sometimes I have tried to just walk it out. And dispose it off to the misty, dark, frozen, 3 am air!

And the latter is being repeated beyond what you would say is healthy. Because I've reached the borders of my mind. And beyond this is nothinG! ~

$@!) gUr|_ , am I?

I don't know what the problem is, but nothing else does it the way you did. Or more precisely speaking, no one else in the world makes me become what I am, the way you did. It's not in the touch, it's not in the way you say a word or anything else. It's in the look of your eyes. Sharp and piercing, it makes every lost dream of the past look so much more precious than the life I live at present.

It's been years we last met. And there is this surety that we are never gonna meet ever again. But once I close my eyes, your picture appears out of the dark. And no matter what, I just don't want to open my eyes. I'm so immune to the forces that want me to come out of that wicked illusion.

No matter what, I just want to keep staring, on and on at your picture. It's a strange fixation. There is no desire, no nothing. But there is a numbness in the mind. No feelings, nor is the heart crying. Just a weird fixation takes over all my senses. And I want to be carried back to the past, to carry a part of it back to the present.

No! It's not you I want to retrieve from my past. It's those tiny bits and pieces of me that I left behind with you. The part of me I lost while loving you so much. Loving you the way I can never ever love anyone else in my life. And this I say with utmost conviction.

~This one is to all the "You's" ever written in all our Blogs!~
~Zindegee main hai tum bin...Ye Viraaniya~

Mayank

When I met Mayank, every soul told me to keep away and keep safe. He was a flirt. But it couldn't have mattered much to me because we became sort booze buddies. Mayank and I would do things that he did with his friends. We would discuss his girls. And how they didn't get a hint of how many other women shared his heart. I would laugh my heart out. Days were fun with him around.

So when they told me to stay away from him, it never mattered a bit.

We would talk about his every date amongst our varied topics of conversation and about how he tore open his heart to every woman of his dreams. And things would often drag themselves into late night.

And one such night, when Mayank buried deep in smoke, chose to walk me home, I said no. But he insisted. And I joked that I would have to drop him back after that.

Down the road, at the last turn before my place, when I was walking away, Mayank held my hand.

And said, "I have something to tell you."

I laughed. "Not now Mayank. I am rather drunk..."

Last night before I wrapped my blanket and slept, there was a story I wanted to share. When I folded my hands for the goodnight prayer, my heart felt like it was sinking. My lungs were like full of hot air, I wanted to throw out in one gush. So after I murmered the prayer and opened my eyes, I felt two drops of tear sticking to the corners of my eyes. Things that were pent up inside me sought an urgent release. In the dead of the night, at half past three.

So there was the story I wanted to get out of my mouth and so out of my mind disturbed me to hell of an extent. And I almost felt the dire urge to knock my neighbour's door. But I didn't because I couldn't. Instead I just changed sides on my bed.

And after I switched the lights off,I sensed the dark corridors outside my window. I so much wanted to feel the presence of a someone that I tried hard to hear footsteps outside...I strained my ears to hear voices talking. But I couldn't. There wasn't a soul I could tell my story to.

And my sleep was eluding me bad...

Excerpt

Memories of shiny roads wet afresh from mid-monsoon showers are yet to die in my mind.
My eyes, still contained sleep, and I peeped out into the world, drops of rain slipping down the windshield, and found you right beside me, driving into a wild infinity. That was all I could ask from my life. I slid down the windows. Cold wind brushed past my hair. Ah! Must be morning! What time is it? When are we pulling up for breakfast?

~Oh! There is so much love, what do we do with it!~

@ ccd

Sitting snug and smug in rooms with walls of glass and trying to guess if it was actually drizzling outside, or just the day-long dust that caused the haze appeared to be the most practical time-killer for me.

By now I had by-hearted the faces of the people sitting in the table next to mine. The chick had been nibbling something for the past one hour. She was so thin. (So- so thin!)Her hair straight-n-shiny hair fell on her shoulder in an oh-so-enviable way. The guy with her bent over the table to get an inch closer.

Also I had stared at the every possible corner at a stretch of at least five minutes.

I was running out of faces to study, and imagine things about.

‘Oh! This Damned thing!’

‘Nothing gets over in one go!’

‘Why? Is it just me!’

‘Will I get swallowed in a matter of minutes?’

‘Swallowed by forces I never would know?’

It was then that I raised my eyes to look at the person with me. Yeah, did I not tell you, that this rainy useless Sunday afternoon; I was actually not alone, sipping coffee. There was someone sitting right next to me. ‘X’ is preposterous. Let ‘A’ be the name.

Like half an hour ago, A was still busy with the frappe’. Man, how slow can one go about things? C’mon, your life couldn’t have been more messed up than mine.

Since to spark a conversation with A was a far cry, I would turn back to guessing if it was actually drizzling or it was the day long dust that caused the haze.

Time and again, I would turn to my own cup. Somehow I can never manage to hate coffee the way I hate other things. I tried to see ma face in the dark brown liguid.

But I couldn’t concentrate on that either. As in I couldn’t get away and plunge into an irrelevant chain of thoughts again. Because I kept on waiting for the frappe’ to finish. So that we could get done, and get gone.

I would look at the cars on the road for a moment. Dozens of funky people packed, awaiting the last blast of their happening weekends so that Monday morning, they could get back to their lives afresh. Lots of people. All unknown to me, and still I thought about them. People who’d never belong to this city, people, each one of whom had a past. And thanks to the adaptive human brain, each one was at peace, or was at least in the process of finding glee. Everyone in some screwed up race, with no finishing line. Why? I almost said that aloud, “Why?”

/*Three things that I need in life*/
/*I, coffee & you!*/

Hanging out alone on long lonely roads a lot after sun-set; brooding behind shut doors with the lights off is so much me. It’s not that I don’t have friends, but basically I’m a loner. I live a life inside myself. Bending down and looking into the dark deep tunnel that I am, I’m not sure if I would end up with anything sensible after any span of time. But then the end has hardly ever mattered.
/*Thoughts doing rounds*/
/*The thinking-man’s-fantasy is just a hypothesis because the thinking-man is just an oxymoron*/

Love & Peace!

Don’t be so good to me; I just in case could fall in love with you. And then I would have a new horde of problems to tackle. Don’t smile at me, when I expect you to. Don’t hold out your hand for me, every now and then. Don’t pull out a chair for me, before you sit. Don’t hold the door open for me. Don’t make me feel that you’re trying to understand me…always.

Don’t be so good to me; I just in case could fall in love with you. And then I would have a new horde of problems to tackle. Though you’re not that bad, I would have to coax myself day in and day out to believe that you’re not that good either. And that you’re just not the right guy, though you’re good at who you are.

Don’t be so good to me; I just in case could fall in love with you. I would have to stop my head from swinging in music whenever you are around. And keep it away from sinking into layers of mushy thought, with me and you in them. So, don’t try to touch my heart. Don’t dare to disturb my life at present, I’m so much at peace.

Today, I saw three butterflies circle a hedge. They were yellow- green in color. And the hedge was two shades darker. And it was quite a scene for me. Three of them, in a wild frenzy, dancing around each other, in some rhythm I could only faintly sense.

And just a bush away, there was a yellow butterfly, a solitary one doing rounds, looking for a flower.

I couldn’t find a single one that came with those printed wings. The prints that we never understand. Dots of maroon amongst lines of red, a splash of fuchsia here and green there. Green is to camouflage. To disappear into another green.

Then I noticed a flower that had grown out of a creeper, among short grass. The flower looked at me. Mundane flower. Dumb flower?

There are these few things, as beautiful as the dust rising as new rain falls on it, or the smell of the unruly monsoon grass being massacred.

And then I saw a shrub they call table rose. I say, why get it on your table? It looks better out there, in the wild.

And when I was a step away from home, I saw one with the colored wings brush past. It was too fast for me to notice the colors it wore. But nevertheless.

Now that I’ll cease to exist, the question is
if you’ll remember me after I’m gone

Will you remember me?
When failure kills me or a catastrophe swallows me

Now that you hold me in your heart
and call me your goddess

What next, when tomorrow I die
or fade into oblivion

Or dissolve into the horizon
from where I’d emerged

Will you wait for me
to appear as a string in the rainbow?

Will you walk endless evenings
for me to come back as a gust of cold wind?

Will you remember me?



/*I keep the template not anything but black because no other color rescues my thoughts better*/

/*Musical Mood : Ye Tumahri Meri Baatein*/

I slid the key into the hole. Pushed the door open, like everyday, got in and shut myself from everything else.

Should I leave the lights switched on everyday when I leave at 10 am? Because when I come back home, it's somewhat late in the evening and the place is dark. And darkness, if it is the first thing I see, makes me go dizzy.

I run to the other side of the room to switch the lights on. Throw my bag on the floor. And then my shoes. I feel my toes, run my fingers in between them. Open my hair. And simply fall on the couch. I let myself sink into it. I love the depths the cushion lets me into. And then the lights go off and I'm out. Completely.

I wake up. 12:45 and still ticking!

The ache in my legs, fatigued has thinned down into something less magnanimous. I look at myself in the mirror. Black smudge around my eyes. I run my hands through my hair. Not silky anymore. That reminds me of the weekend.

After a shower, let some coffee go down the throat. Stale sandwiches of the morning would have to be my dinner.

Some music eh? I have worn all my playlists out. So switch back to good old Shakira!

Wasn't I working on a story? Stories? Yeah, scores of them in obscure folders. Waiting to be wound up from an eternity.

One look out of the window, I see the endless row of lights on the road, tiny lights, distant lights. I stretch my hands and lean on the window sill. I could just fall off.

There is this yearning to fly, batting my hands through the air. Cold and lonely air. I lean further out, even more precariously, more dangerously. Till more than half of me is in the air.

I have never been afraid of danger. I have never been afraid of heights. Of death. But now...

I Ain't Amused At All

I have seen far too many
So you're nothing new

Think you're too good huh?
Keep your goodness to yourself

Too much of an attitude ain't good for the soul
Get down from the heavens, dumb fool!

You foul-mouthed idiot
Mark my words, you snob

Or they will come to you
Sooner or Later

No matter who you are
And what you do

In the end,
It doesn't even matter

When the sun sets
The bird flies back to the roost, unless you're an owl

Stay away!

Keep your attitude to yourself
I have enough of my own

Look Famous...!

It’s been months when I had last confessed a well kept secret. So, let’s undo that trend now.


I have had an off-beat childhood. I am not to blame anyone for it. But, I have just had one. Fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t know. Now, talking about the off-beat childhood, it was obviously enclosed. I never happened to see things for what they were. All I did was, get up the school bus from right in-front of my apartment, go to school, study hard, come back home, study harder, wait for the tuition teacher, and maintain that rank in class…

I never dared to venture out of this badly crammed up routine thing. Anything different from this would appear abnormal. And I never let anything abnormal happen.

My life was constrained, restricted in every sense of the word.

So I never got to know the world. And the world never got to know me. My mind developed strange patterns and I developed a phobia of quite a large number of things.

And all this happened before the day I stepped into college. College just freaked me out.
I got a glimpse of the things actually. And since I came to know more of the world around me, I wanted the world to know me too.

Yeah, it’s a queer thing to confess, but I genuinely wanted people to know me. For whatever the reasons be. They should just know me by face. I should be famous among whatever people I am.

And I took this becoming famous job, more seriously than I should have. It screwed up my priorities in life. Messed things up, because I thought more about what people thought about me than what I thought about myself.

So, one day, I told myself that I had had enough. I called it quits. Enough of trying to become famous and all. I am what I am.

But then life gives these tiny li’l surprises. I, actually, was famous…well..sort of…!