Mich & Amit..

'Cabbie take me home'

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

'But cabbie take me home'

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

'So cabbie, take me home..'

Says Mich

'Calm girl'

'Take a deep breath'

'I'm almost holding your hand'

'In you I see a Goddess'

'All roads lead to you'

'Don't go home tonite'

Says Amit

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

'This is killing me bit by bit'

'They want me to change'

'I am going mad, so'

'Amit, I'm so going mad'

Says Mich

'Girl, my Mich'

'Hold yourself and listen'

'This wind blows your hair'

'And sultry is the way you look'

'even when it's icy cold out here'

Says Amit

'But Amit'

'I aint beautiful'

'That is what I am all about'

'I aint beautiful'

'That is what I am all about'

Says Mich

'Says who? Mich?'

'You're my Goddess'

'My Karma..all I have'

'Beautiful or not'

'You are all that you are'

'You are me.. Mich'

Says Amit

'But I am so confused Amit'

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

'What is it that makes me so sad'

'Honestly I don't'

'I have been lookin for help'

Says Mich

'..Mich'

'You're sweet music'

'You ae the romance between words..'

'Mich'

'You're the way the wind sways'

'The dry leaves twirl..'

'You ae a beautiful mind, Mich'

Says Amit

'But Amit..'

...

Love Child

the part of you that is within me

keeps me awake tonight

night after night..

he reminds me of you..

of our furious love

the passion that lived between us

our love made of unsaid words and lowered gazes..

the passed time

the silent prayers

my fear of falling apart

the fear of fostering this fear..

when he sees the light of the day

all in the world i want is to see

you play him

chase him out of the bushes he hides in

roll him on the grass..

kiss him all over

smother him

the way we never did

bestow on him..

the remnant of our love

let me not regret anymore

of that half love

in him..let it live on

tonight, let our love

meet the horizon..

Wish

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

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

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

Gamble.

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

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

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alibi

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

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

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

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

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

So nor will I..

One Friday evening..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't move.

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

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

'I'l get you coffee'

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

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

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

paraphernalia..for love.

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

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

Art began, when you love left me

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

Bias.

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

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

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

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

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

One four letter word I despise is Bias.

sleep is a prostitute

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

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

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

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

lastdays

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

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

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

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

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

precisely what i did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

too happened..!

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

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

Cudn care les..

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

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

3. I am still sticking to coffee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..Something I can't help is obvious continuity

~once

i am not asking you to

stay forever

all i want of you is that

we hold this moment in our hands

this moment

that we are together

alone~together

there is a distant circle of sinking orange

clouds have clothed the mountain

and soft strings from a guitar

fill our ears

we are more alive, than ever

and we want to dance

now, my feelings need not be held back

they can come down like lashes of rain

anytime, anywhere...

so wild so free

so i ask of you, to stay, now

let me live, let me cry, this once

This once...

i know, in love once is enough

like light for a blind eye

like wine for a parched loner

like you for me..

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

Passions

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

but somehow I can never manage to eat just one.

Silence: The way we lapsed into one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nostalgic, pathetic.

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

total hypocrisy

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

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

being insance. I like being outof control

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

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

.

.

.

& I dedicate this post to someone'

Unhinged

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

again.

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

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

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

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

time is, it went by.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The idea of Romance is

this...

Pic Courtesy: Internet

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

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

water were plopping from the roof above.

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

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

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

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

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

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

people could sit facing the lake and see.

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

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

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

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

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

And that is what they did for sometime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

to come back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonite, I will tell you another story.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On yet another note

All my crushes look the same. Feel the same.

Man, they are all the same.

Brash, overconfident, arrogant blokes.

And I am worried. Ain't I evolving?

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

I should have been Narcissus's first daughter..

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

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

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

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

Ithinkyoushouldforgivemeformycrazywritingbutthenithinktheblogshouldreflecttherealperson I AM.

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

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