$@l$@-I

The lazy afternoon was surprised by a thunderstorm.
The one you are never ready for. And you are stuck in
the most mundane of places without an umbrella or
anything. I was getting back home, ealier than usual.
And the rain on my windshield felt nice.

The highway was almost deserted. But I saw someone
and screeched back. And I lowered the glass to see
her. She was drenched under her skin. A strand of wet
hair fell on her face as she bent down to say hi.

'Stranded?'
'Hmm...Yea', she smiled.
'Need a ride?' I asked and waited for her to say 'No, I'l
get a cab'.

-To be continued..?

Another Untitled!

Guy1:
Pros : You are the first guy who became a friend,
crossing the 'just-an-acquaintance' barrier. I got to
know what it is to be emotionally attached to someone
like you. First person I call when I am messed
up!

Cons : You confuse me with thy emotions. Being
hyper-emotional is pathetic you know .

Guy2:
Pros: Cholcolates-walks-chocolates! Cool guy you are.
You are the one I talked to all night to see day-break
and then sleep through sleepy Saturdays.

Cons: I genuinely missed you when you were away.
And I hate becoming a parasite. You should've done
something about it.

Guy3:
Pros: You are the most vivacious person I ever came
across. Was smitten by some shades of the person you
are. Relishing my evenings away with you, I forgot
what I was doing to myself.

Cons: You catered to a larger audience. And I didn't
want to get lost in that absolute chaos.

Guy4:
Pros:You are one of those few guys who I respect for
who they are and not for what they are, if you get the
difference. I respect you, out & out! You have a heart
of gold.

Cons: You have a heart of gold. But so does a hard
boiled egg! You make nothing out of it. You're too
distant, too vague!

Guy5:
Pros: You-you-you! I thank God a zillion times to have
met you. You made me know myself. You taught me
love. And I learnt that my former ideas were all
hypotheses. No hard feelings now! May the force be with yu!

Cons: No cons!

Yogi

I was led into a room with a balcony overlooking a jungle. 'This is Yogi's room', said she, my host. I said hello to my home for the night.

When I got up to the sun's orange rays raining through the white curtains and I opened old drawers, I found Yogi's diary.

My host, Yogi's mother, called me down for tea. We talked as she watered her plants.

I asked her about Yogi. Yogi left home six years ago, when he was nineteen. Way back then it was hard on her. But he had his reasons. Confines of home stifled him, she said. And Yogi wasn't made for college. But his father had other plans for his only child. And the child had no plans as such.

So one summer morning, he simply left, with just the clothes on his back. He called seven days later, from somewhere high up in the Himalayas. And then again a month later from somewhere else. He still does call his mother. But she doesn't try to get him back.

Back in the room I pushed the door open and I saw something I had failed to notice ealier. Yogi painted. On the canvas that hung right before me, were footprints on sand. He called it 'Guitar and barefeet'

Those words brought the man of flesh of blood infront of my eyes when I closed them. The whole night I thought of Yogi. I liked his name so much, and wasn't he a Yogi? I thought of gay abandon and kept staring at 'Guitar and barefeet'.

Those footprints must have been Yogi's, I thought. I pondered over what he looked like and whether he remembered to shave. I mulled over the broken strings of his guitar and what music he liked. There are only a few people who followed the heart.

By dawn, I was completely in love with the 'idea' of Yogi. I placed a picture of mine right beside the painting. That picture, embodied the two passions of my being- 'Seashells and poetry'. I looked at the two of them for sometime. They looked like soul-mates.And I simply left.

I am tired.
No I am not sick.
Just tired.
Tired of letting go.

Autumn Rain

Everything else in life can be forgotten. But autumn afternoons.

I was walking my own way and I saw the sides of the road strewn with dry leaves. Big and small. I looked up at the huge trees. They were all naked.

I stepped to the side. Crushed the dead leaves. The cracking sound. Felt good.

A whirlwind. A mild one. Carrying the yellow leaves from the trees, after a merry-go-round, adding to the heap below.

The breeze touched my face. I looked away. The sun was a distant ball of fluorescent yellow. Hiding behind stunted boughs of lonely trees.

I took a turn. I saw the moutain. Not green anymore, it was all grey. I wanted to walk to where the road ended and the moutain began. To a place from where there was nowhere left to go.

But then the wind grew cooler. And faster. Dry leaves flew past more often. I felt a drop plop on me. Rain. Autum rain.

Caution: The pic & the post are not together!

tonite before i disappear in the dark
my heart will miss a beat for sure
and it will say -'ah'

i'll light a candle
and get a cake of chocolate
the one that looks like a heart
mine & yours alike

music will flow in at midnight
i'll fill my room with confetti
and dance to sleep, in your arms

run my hands through your hair
and say those 'nothings' in your ears

later
i'll sit with myself
and remember
your words...your smells
the touch, the taste

& I've got to see you again~!

On the verge of love

I'm feeling ugly tonight
Won't you stop by?

Say a word or two
And make me dance on the clouds again?

Won't you?

I know
I ain't as beautiful
I ain't fair
I don't have those blue eyes either
Nor the captivating dimples

But..nevetheless../

About why I hate to...

One February afternoon sipping a hot beverage, my mind goes back half a dozen years to when I was 15. I stood in an empty field, dusk in the offing, between a guy and a girl. Both were equally good friends of mine. And so I was trying to bring in peace between them. Peace and Love. Yes, sadly one of them had fallen in love with the other and the the even sadder part was that I was the third person involved. Way back then, I didn't even know what stuff I was into.

So the one in love brings out a card, a hand made one. A big Sorry written on it. And what for is the person sorry? Because she had dared to make her infatuation public. And the guy was throwing those airs, pretending he was embarrased and not interested at all.

Now that was the first time ever that I played cupid. Thinking about it now, I understand the futility of my involvement. Later in life I met many people. And played cupid many times over. And one thing kept happening over and over again. I always failed. The guy, the girl and me...all of us in deep waters. Feet slur, desperately crying to get out and promising never ever to commit the sin again.

But Baang! Every time I see a broken heart, a heart longing for love, my heart melts. Enter I, centrestage. Trying to solve the whole thing. Throw away 'mis'-understandings that never were so. And at the end of it mess the whole thing up irreversibly. I don't even remember how many lovers have suffered for me.

So with V day round the corner, it's kind of a caveat to the people around. Don't ask me to deliver the cards to madamosile. Don't ask me for her number, id..whatever. Because I would be more than willing to help. But now you know that what utter failures we are gonna end up as...!!

-'precisely female feelings'-

-i am alone-i see people-i see hands and legs-and faces-unknown faces-faces i would never see again-i see an unwanted pace-i see blinding lights-i see murder-i see white sheets-i see windows to nothing-i see black-i see you-i see me-

-i am home-the smell of incense-i see my face in my favorite mirror-i see my old diaries-i see the boughs of the coconut- i see that time hasn't moved-the sound of silence-the crack on the wall-the wind on my face-the moon-me-you-

i believe whatever i write reads the same, thesedays. because whatever i think feels the same. because every guy i liked begins to feel the same. because i can't rid myself of this monotony. because i can't rid myself of me. because life has come a full circle, it just keeps repeating now.

i live my past, though i have very few livable memories. and i also live my future. my present is lost sometime in between. sometime when i stand at the end of the road and gaze at the blurred outline that mountain makes with the sky on a moonless night.

i listen to music. music that goes on in my mind always.

'You don't even know the meaning of the words I'm sorry
You said you would love me until you die
And as far as I know you're still alive
Baby

You don't even know the meaning of the words I'm sorry
I'm starting to believe
it should be illegal to deceive a woman's heart'

@gypsy-this is the song :)

PS: I don't want to get rid of the monotony either. that's what i live on...

Snippets..

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."

@ 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-

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!

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 fair hands, nevermind the face, justthe hands/& this is has nothing racist about it /

I, as a child, had always asked dad to drive me to the horizon. I knew it all comes a full 'sphere', even then I wanted to fall off the edge of the earth.

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...

~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.

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.

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...