It's the last night of winter. Days will only get longer.
Dreams will only get shorter. And I will lose my refuge
in the dark...
My interpretation of things is weird. When I like
something, I don't know why I like it. When I hate
something I don't know the reason either. So more
often than not I go by my instincts and it turns out
that I can't explain my thoughts. Again it's no reasons,
no excuses,just me...you know, I just am...
I am a passive person. Thoughts come to me. I don't
go to them. My stories come to me. I don't move an
inch. So I am a pathetic 'active thinker' and worse, my
lateral thinking skills are an absolute zero.
I hate headaches. They blurr my vision. They make
me go mad. They make me nauseatic. And more than
anything, they make me sad.
I love being alone. But sometimes solitude haunts me.
Before a minute, I wanted to be left to myself. And
now again I want to lose myself in a crowd. So I am
never sure what I want from my life. My priorities are
in doldrums.
I wonder if anybody would want to swap lives with
me. I have a cup of black coffee at 10 in the evening.
And that keeps me awake till 4 in the morning. And I
lose my nights somewhere in between.
My frustration gets dumped in a corner of my mind. It
keeps on piling like a pile of clothes waiting for the
laundry. And one night I plan to take a walk in the
cold, alone to throw it all out. Or otherwise I blog it
out.
There is this man you just want to stand beside. He
doesn't have any of the qualities of the ideal man, but
you like him for what he is. He is genuine. And he is
nice. So, standing beside him, and counting moments, I
begin to blush irresistively and in my mind, I am
writing a song.
Of all that I wrote here is the an excerpt...
'But with every passing moment we travelled deeper
into each other. Restraint became an impossibility and
conscience, a liability. '
And I would avoid publishing the rest.
It said 10: 25. She counted her blessings, that she
hadn't missed her train. But somehwere down her
heart, she had really wanted to miss it. That would
have been an easy excuse to stay back. But a hero that
he was, he never failed in anything. He made sure that
she was home bound that night.
She knew her train would leave any moment. By then
he had got out of the train and she was standing near
the doorway. There were hundreds waving goodbye.
And so was she.
But little did she know that she would actually do it. I
mean many a times it happens that you imagine a lot
of things and want them to happen desperately. But
then they hardly do, and at a certain point of time, you
get over those imaginations and move on with life. But
little did she know that she would actually do it.
Just when her train jerked into motion, she got down.
He was taken aback. She lay her hands on his
shoulders, raised her feet for her mouth to reach his
ears and said something softly. He stood there like a
piece of rock. And like a fearful shy child, she got back
into the train. And just when he wanted to see more of
her, she disappeared behind that thick translucent
glass. That's the problem with these AC
compartments.
Once out of his sight, she felt safe from that
embarrasment. She remembered a thing that had
happend an aeon ago. On being asked whether a
woman could ever confess her love for a man, she had
said that she never should. That would give the man
an upper hand for the rest of their lives. But on further
thought, she added, if the man is worthy enough,
better give it a try than sit back and regret later!
So she quietly climbed to the upper birth, switched her
cell phone off and turned sides all night. Sleep wouldn't
come. Just his face would flash by. And then the
darkness of the compartment. She wanted to reach
home and forget about it all. She wanted to forget
about having met this man. She wanted to forget ever
having confessed her love for him.
Switching sides and thoughts the night didn't seem to
pass. And finally when sleep came, she didn't want it.
Then came the morning and she saw home. But the
thought came back to her. She felt a hole inside her.
May be she was just hungry. All is going to be fine, she
assured herself. He wont ever call back and they are
going to lose touch a week or so. And it'l be alright.
She dragged her bags out of the train. Eyes swollen and
hair out of place.
How she wished if someone could pick her up from the
station and give her a free ride home. She desperately
wanted to spot a familiar face in the crowd. But she
cudn't.
Or did she? Did she see someone she knew? Yes, of
course she did.
She recognised the man, smiling and walking towards
her. And as he picked up her bags, he said ,"Switched
the phone thing off, huh!All night!"
He had flown a four hundred miles just to say 'I love
you too."
hadn't missed her train. But somehwere down her
heart, she had really wanted to miss it. That would
have been an easy excuse to stay back. But a hero that
he was, he never failed in anything. He made sure that
she was home bound that night.
She knew her train would leave any moment. By then
he had got out of the train and she was standing near
the doorway. There were hundreds waving goodbye.
And so was she.
But little did she know that she would actually do it. I
mean many a times it happens that you imagine a lot
of things and want them to happen desperately. But
then they hardly do, and at a certain point of time, you
get over those imaginations and move on with life. But
little did she know that she would actually do it.
Just when her train jerked into motion, she got down.
He was taken aback. She lay her hands on his
shoulders, raised her feet for her mouth to reach his
ears and said something softly. He stood there like a
piece of rock. And like a fearful shy child, she got back
into the train. And just when he wanted to see more of
her, she disappeared behind that thick translucent
glass. That's the problem with these AC
compartments.
Once out of his sight, she felt safe from that
embarrasment. She remembered a thing that had
happend an aeon ago. On being asked whether a
woman could ever confess her love for a man, she had
said that she never should. That would give the man
an upper hand for the rest of their lives. But on further
thought, she added, if the man is worthy enough,
better give it a try than sit back and regret later!
So she quietly climbed to the upper birth, switched her
cell phone off and turned sides all night. Sleep wouldn't
come. Just his face would flash by. And then the
darkness of the compartment. She wanted to reach
home and forget about it all. She wanted to forget
about having met this man. She wanted to forget ever
having confessed her love for him.
Switching sides and thoughts the night didn't seem to
pass. And finally when sleep came, she didn't want it.
Then came the morning and she saw home. But the
thought came back to her. She felt a hole inside her.
May be she was just hungry. All is going to be fine, she
assured herself. He wont ever call back and they are
going to lose touch a week or so. And it'l be alright.
She dragged her bags out of the train. Eyes swollen and
hair out of place.
How she wished if someone could pick her up from the
station and give her a free ride home. She desperately
wanted to spot a familiar face in the crowd. But she
cudn't.
Or did she? Did she see someone she knew? Yes, of
course she did.
She recognised the man, smiling and walking towards
her. And as he picked up her bags, he said ,"Switched
the phone thing off, huh!All night!"
He had flown a four hundred miles just to say 'I love
you too."
@ ranDom
#I'm having splitends, it occurs to me that I need a hair cut.
#Initially I'm too lazy about it. Then make up my mind to get it done, once & for three months.
#So one late-morning, I'm looking at myself in mirror, in a room that has too many mirrors and you know being able to see myself from all angles possible makes me conscious & sad
#And there is this person who's doing something with my hair, you know, spraying water all over my head and tucking my hair up. She is dumping precious information, which shampoo-which conditioner-ayurvedic-herbal-chemical-blahh-blah
#And there is this another woman I have been constantly listening to. She is fair and fat and has golden hair. And she wants her hair to be completely in sync with the white dress she was to be wearning that night. You know, she has got pins with pearls on them, and then she wants them do be done wonderfully-so on & so forth. I wonder!
#I'm done. My bill is exorbitant. But everything is okay when it's once in three months. Besides I love being paid attention to. Even if it's about being told which shampoo causes dandruff & which doesn't.
#Outside I see a group of black, skinny women, probably labourers in the construction nearby, cooking lunch and their stunted urchins doing rounds. Here no one is worried about her hair. There are things that mattered far more. I hear their laughter and again I wonder!
#This is India. & India continues to remain a first love.
-I often have a problem explaining people that I'm basically a random person. But how do I tell you, I just aM-
#Initially I'm too lazy about it. Then make up my mind to get it done, once & for three months.
#So one late-morning, I'm looking at myself in mirror, in a room that has too many mirrors and you know being able to see myself from all angles possible makes me conscious & sad
#And there is this person who's doing something with my hair, you know, spraying water all over my head and tucking my hair up. She is dumping precious information, which shampoo-which conditioner-ayurvedic-herbal-chemical-blahh-blah
#And there is this another woman I have been constantly listening to. She is fair and fat and has golden hair. And she wants her hair to be completely in sync with the white dress she was to be wearning that night. You know, she has got pins with pearls on them, and then she wants them do be done wonderfully-so on & so forth. I wonder!
#I'm done. My bill is exorbitant. But everything is okay when it's once in three months. Besides I love being paid attention to. Even if it's about being told which shampoo causes dandruff & which doesn't.
#Outside I see a group of black, skinny women, probably labourers in the construction nearby, cooking lunch and their stunted urchins doing rounds. Here no one is worried about her hair. There are things that mattered far more. I hear their laughter and again I wonder!
#This is India. & India continues to remain a first love.
-I often have a problem explaining people that I'm basically a random person. But how do I tell you, I just aM-
EPISODE I:
The best thing about me missing three days of serious studies and and going out was meeting a sweet guy. After many days I found someone really likable in the truest sense of the word. Sweet, accomodating and lovable. And also, should I say, that he has a catchy smile. The type I like to see on the faces of guys. The one that shows up in the lips and then gradually in a matter of seconds spreads to every inch of the face, the cheeks in the far end, the glint of mischief in the two eyes. Sometimes the fingers trespass the hair once or twice to add to the charm. Ah! Intoxicting. I indeed look for excuses to stare for a moment more...
I find hair on the hands a nice thing. And besides that, he is one of those people who are are into this habit of speaking too softly for a mind as deaf as mine. So I am left with no option but to move closer to his mouth. The whisper and the mild gushes of air along with the words then literally blow a few strands of my hair. And I like that.
I also like the gentle nod and the acknowledgement of my presence when both of us are lost in some crowd.
Besides that, there are these blank moments among those long hours when from my ever worthy peripheral view I can make out two eyes looking on for a blank moment and then immediately looking away. May be the eyes expect me to turn and say yes, I was also waiting to steal this moment and catch a glimpse of you. But am I not simply better off without it?
I like him. So what if he has a girlfriend!
EPISODE II:
I had decided never to wear this dress never again after that happened. But today, again I have wrapped this sheet of melancholy around myself, because I obtain sadistic satiety from inflicting pain on myself, I want to relive that sultry day, that windy afternoon, I want to live that pain all over again… that separation, that sense of being duped. I want to hear the last words you uttered, one more time. I want to hear those unspoken promises you made before me, even though they were not real. I want that same music, to fill the solitary air around us …
I want to regain that exhilaration of being beside you. That of talking to you, endlessly. Taking care to see that our eyes don’t meet for time longer than a second, all the way I blushed about not letting you peep into me through that curtain of shyness…
Even though a spasm of pain clinches my face every time the memories of that day come back to me, I have had the courage wear the same hue and color… that same pair of metal earrings. The same place, the same solitude…the same me; just that you are not here anymore.
Even after you are gone, again I am here for you. And this time I will let the pain shroud me mercilessly…
I want to outgrow that day, by living it again.
NB: EPISODE I & EPISODE II are just not connected in any way physical or metaphysical!
The best thing about me missing three days of serious studies and and going out was meeting a sweet guy. After many days I found someone really likable in the truest sense of the word. Sweet, accomodating and lovable. And also, should I say, that he has a catchy smile. The type I like to see on the faces of guys. The one that shows up in the lips and then gradually in a matter of seconds spreads to every inch of the face, the cheeks in the far end, the glint of mischief in the two eyes. Sometimes the fingers trespass the hair once or twice to add to the charm. Ah! Intoxicting. I indeed look for excuses to stare for a moment more...
I find hair on the hands a nice thing. And besides that, he is one of those people who are are into this habit of speaking too softly for a mind as deaf as mine. So I am left with no option but to move closer to his mouth. The whisper and the mild gushes of air along with the words then literally blow a few strands of my hair. And I like that.
I also like the gentle nod and the acknowledgement of my presence when both of us are lost in some crowd.
Besides that, there are these blank moments among those long hours when from my ever worthy peripheral view I can make out two eyes looking on for a blank moment and then immediately looking away. May be the eyes expect me to turn and say yes, I was also waiting to steal this moment and catch a glimpse of you. But am I not simply better off without it?
I like him. So what if he has a girlfriend!
EPISODE II:
I had decided never to wear this dress never again after that happened. But today, again I have wrapped this sheet of melancholy around myself, because I obtain sadistic satiety from inflicting pain on myself, I want to relive that sultry day, that windy afternoon, I want to live that pain all over again… that separation, that sense of being duped. I want to hear the last words you uttered, one more time. I want to hear those unspoken promises you made before me, even though they were not real. I want that same music, to fill the solitary air around us …
I want to regain that exhilaration of being beside you. That of talking to you, endlessly. Taking care to see that our eyes don’t meet for time longer than a second, all the way I blushed about not letting you peep into me through that curtain of shyness…
Even though a spasm of pain clinches my face every time the memories of that day come back to me, I have had the courage wear the same hue and color… that same pair of metal earrings. The same place, the same solitude…the same me; just that you are not here anymore.
Even after you are gone, again I am here for you. And this time I will let the pain shroud me mercilessly…
I want to outgrow that day, by living it again.
NB: EPISODE I & EPISODE II are just not connected in any way physical or metaphysical!
A latent Dream
I have always wanted to become a news-reader. It could have been just another stunt of a whim to become better known, but whatever the reason, I always wanted to see myself reading the news from God-knows-where. I wondered from where they were reading it all. It was much later I found out how the thing works... I also wracked my brains wondering what it would look like if I had a pang of nervousness showing myself to a billion people in the middle of it all,
Iwould just get up and run away...
I have always wanted to be in Venice. It makes me want it more with time. It arouses in me feelings of passion & gay abandon..somehow it does.
I have wanted to become an experimental chef and have wanted to have my retinue of victims to test/taste them on..
I have always wanted to have a night for myself.I would spend it walking the shores and collecting sea shells and chasing crabs into their holes, from dusk to dawn..
I have wanted to run away from home, just for the heck of it/for a short duration of time...i wonder how short../
I have always wanted to have the 'exact' pictures to match my thoughts when I write something.
Iwould just get up and run away...
I have always wanted to be in Venice. It makes me want it more with time. It arouses in me feelings of passion & gay abandon..somehow it does.
I have wanted to become an experimental chef and have wanted to have my retinue of victims to test/taste them on..
I have always wanted to have a night for myself.I would spend it walking the shores and collecting sea shells and chasing crabs into their holes, from dusk to dawn..
I have wanted to run away from home, just for the heck of it/for a short duration of time...i wonder how short../
I have always wanted to have fair hands, nevermind the face, justthe hands/& this is has nothing racist about it /
I have always wanted to have the 'exact' pictures to match my thoughts when I write something.
And, of course, I have always wanted to find YOU.
to throw up:-
These days nothing makes sense to me. I feel like an ascetic, away from the worldly because i wonder if i seriously want something right now. When my heart tilts towards a thing, I warn myself. For a second I wonder if I actually need it. The next second I convince myself that I would be absolutely fine without the 'thing'.So the whim is gone in just two seconds. And after this, my mind ends up feeling sterile.
It's not just with 'things'. I have begun behaving this way with 'real-people'. The moment I like someone, I begin to distance myself from him. I fear becoming an emotional-parasite. I fear losing my independence. Sometimes I ask myself if I want to live by myself all my life? I have so many insecurities about my life that I feel tiny and endangered. I feel everything is but a facade. Nothing is real. and that one shouldn't be carried away. One daren't budge. And I tie the chastity-belt about my neck.
Moral of the story, I feel my life has no meaning. living like vegetable, is not worth it at all. Nothing arouses in me any emotion of any sort. Sometimes, sudden pangs of anxiety have me completely.. they leave me wornout and worse.These days I dwell in my own pathos...
It's not just with 'things'. I have begun behaving this way with 'real-people'. The moment I like someone, I begin to distance myself from him. I fear becoming an emotional-parasite. I fear losing my independence. Sometimes I ask myself if I want to live by myself all my life? I have so many insecurities about my life that I feel tiny and endangered. I feel everything is but a facade. Nothing is real. and that one shouldn't be carried away. One daren't budge. And I tie the chastity-belt about my neck.
Moral of the story, I feel my life has no meaning. living like vegetable, is not worth it at all. Nothing arouses in me any emotion of any sort. Sometimes, sudden pangs of anxiety have me completely.. they leave me wornout and worse.These days I dwell in my own pathos...
~All women keep score.
Only the great ones put it in writing.~
Anecdote-Antidote
Someday I met him at the juice centre. It was one of those days when I didn't know his name. As in I was always confused about his name. As in I messed it up with another guy's.
YEah, so at the juice centre, he smiles at me; I smile back at him as it was the first day of college after summer and we were supposedly wishing each other a warm welcome-back. And then he makes me feel like he would say a word or two. And I am trying my guts out to remember his name. Does it start with an 'A' , a 'T'..what!! He asks me about the registration for the new semester and we talk about how the management has screwed up things big time. We laugh. He leaves. And I still can't remember his name.
YEah, so at the juice centre, he smiles at me; I smile back at him as it was the first day of college after summer and we were supposedly wishing each other a warm welcome-back. And then he makes me feel like he would say a word or two. And I am trying my guts out to remember his name. Does it start with an 'A' , a 'T'..what!! He asks me about the registration for the new semester and we talk about how the management has screwed up things big time. We laugh. He leaves. And I still can't remember his name.
The mad-man
Yesterday walking back home, my mind was straying elsewhere. I was feeling low because I had failed to achieve something I should have achieved. Whenever I lose in life, all I want to do is hide my face in my hands and cry till my fill. And being in the middle of the road, that was exactly what I couldn’t do. Just then I noticed the mad-man.
That reminded me of my childhood. Every morning, when I waited for my school bus to pick me up, this mad-man would be around. He would be smiling to himself. There was a huge mess on his head; he had hair like many holy-men do. And had hardly any clothes.
My naughty kid brother would whisper into my ears, “I think he is a private detective, or he could also be from the CBI or something, on some mission, you know. And recently they recovered great wealth from the man’s house who sells eggs at the chakk.”
There used to be a makeshift shop of samosas near my bus stop. The mad-man would stand there, talking to himself, for sometime. On his good days, he would have two samosas thrown at him in a polythene bag, the curry leaking out of it. I used to watch him savor it. Soon my school bus would arrive, and I would get busy with other things in my mind. The mad-man would be out of my mind, until I noticed him the next time.
And so things went on. I was done with school. I did two years of college in my city. And I saw less of the mad-man with time. I went away to do my graduation. Things kept going on. I kept chasing the things I wanted to achieve. Exams-exams; Colleges…Certificates, Jobs, besides the other pleasantries of life.
And in this rat-race, when I failed to achieve something I should have achieved I was sad. And on the road, I met the mad-man again. His hair was the same, like jute in a quagmire. He was smiling to himself, chattering away, making gestures. And walking up and down the same road for the past so-many-years. Many-many years. I always fail to find myself in my past. But coming across him, I felt a pinch inside my heart. What has he achieved in the past many-many years? Where has life taken him? Probably he has walked up and down the same road hundreds of times. And look at his face, he is happy, isn’t he?
So why wasn’t I born a mad-man.
That reminded me of my childhood. Every morning, when I waited for my school bus to pick me up, this mad-man would be around. He would be smiling to himself. There was a huge mess on his head; he had hair like many holy-men do. And had hardly any clothes.
My naughty kid brother would whisper into my ears, “I think he is a private detective, or he could also be from the CBI or something, on some mission, you know. And recently they recovered great wealth from the man’s house who sells eggs at the chakk.”
There used to be a makeshift shop of samosas near my bus stop. The mad-man would stand there, talking to himself, for sometime. On his good days, he would have two samosas thrown at him in a polythene bag, the curry leaking out of it. I used to watch him savor it. Soon my school bus would arrive, and I would get busy with other things in my mind. The mad-man would be out of my mind, until I noticed him the next time.
And so things went on. I was done with school. I did two years of college in my city. And I saw less of the mad-man with time. I went away to do my graduation. Things kept going on. I kept chasing the things I wanted to achieve. Exams-exams; Colleges…Certificates, Jobs, besides the other pleasantries of life.
And in this rat-race, when I failed to achieve something I should have achieved I was sad. And on the road, I met the mad-man again. His hair was the same, like jute in a quagmire. He was smiling to himself, chattering away, making gestures. And walking up and down the same road for the past so-many-years. Many-many years. I always fail to find myself in my past. But coming across him, I felt a pinch inside my heart. What has he achieved in the past many-many years? Where has life taken him? Probably he has walked up and down the same road hundreds of times. And look at his face, he is happy, isn’t he?
So why wasn’t I born a mad-man.
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!
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...
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.
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~
"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~
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...
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.
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! ~
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~
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..."
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..."
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