chai paani

The Chase

2012-02-14T12:08:00.004+05:30

i hear it's the best part
but I've seen better
it's no fun to live apart
when we can be together

is it just cruel fate
or my own delusion
what i strive to make real
remains an illusion

if it is right to let go
it should've been easy
we would've been just friends
and I would've been breezy

I try to get close
and you move away
now we go with the flow
not think about the next day

is it a test
for how long I survive
or is it just
to keep the romance alive?

2012-02-13T23:40:00.001+05:30

Roommates are so much harder to find than soulmates.

You never bump into them at quiz/ debate competitions.

2011-12-24T12:59:00.001+05:30

I'm stating the obvious when I say that

All 'Higher Education' teaches one is to state the obvious.

That Day...

2011-11-08T14:29:00.002+05:30

That day
when turning me on
is the first thing on your mind
when you wake up

That day
when you just cannot
take your eyes off me

That day
when you whisper sweet nothings
like you're talking to yourself

That day
when you carry me on your back
wherever you go

That day
when you slide your finger
up and down
looking for something

That day
when you know
just all the right buttons to push

That day
when you get so lost in me
like the world doesn't exist

Waiting for that day...

That day
when I will be born
as your Macbook.

All or Nothing

2011-10-06T15:07:00.003+05:30

It either has to be the complete romantic dream. Or cynicism.
Life always seems to go for Plan B.

(pun almost unintended).

2011-09-01T18:28:00.001+05:30

So near, yet so far.

2011-08-09T01:01:00.001+05:30

Love is worse than alcohol.
You can't puke it out and feel better.

2011-05-21T02:16:00.003+05:30

I'll tell you why god's a b******.

Not because Varsha died. That'd be stupid, because everybody dies.

It's the way she went. I know she was looked after like a little princess by everyone, but she's been through her share of crap. She was gang-raped by a bunch of street dogs a few years back. It took months to get a single bark out of her after that. Then she had infection in her uterus, and went through a major operation. The post-operative stress left her with a massive appetite. She got fat, and heavy. She was an old girl. 12. And had cataract. She couldn't even see the food held out in front of her nose. Finally we never got the opportunity to get that fixed. She was never crossed. She never got to have puppies.

And after all this, she had to die getting hit by a bike. By some random guy who apparently was in a hurry. On the way back from the temple on the evening stroll with my uncle. Right in front of her home. Exactly what kind of kindness are we talking about that this god is supposed to be brimming with?? I think the word we're looking for is 'sadistic'.

I can take people dying in accidents. It's not all that unfair. We are a cursed species. And even deserve it, if you go by what History says.

But not innocent animals.

Not my Varsha.

2011-03-28T00:17:00.003+05:30

to passion
to poetry
to intensity
to the spirit
to life
to madness
to the blurring of the line between right and wrong
to the stuff of dreams

to love

happy birthday

2011-03-22T21:23:00.003+05:30

You always have a choice.

Actually, that is the censored version cleverly edited to fool optimists into thinking that life is benignly smiling at them. The full version is this:

You always have to make a choice.

love

2011-03-12T00:33:00.001+05:30

leaping, falling, never stalling

-----------------------

It's not my own line.
It's by my soulfellow.
I think it has the rhythm and grace of a bounding gazelle.

2011-03-05T00:22:00.001+05:30

'prospective' is a nice word.

'incoming' is a nicer feeling.

:D

2010

2010-12-31T23:59:00.000+05:30

Happy it's over.

2010-12-07T23:02:00.000+05:30

I call it harsh reality

You call it the will of God.

Looks like

2010-12-01T23:11:00.001+05:30

everything

has an expiry date.

sop story

2010-11-29T23:29:00.003+05:30

I've learnt a new phrase in the last couple of months:

Whoring up.

It is a neologism, born out of the necessary and sufficient conditions of pursuing higher studies. It is not one of those things that you know the meaning of, and try to know what the experience of it is like. It is one of those things that you are going through, a complex set of things, which you can't put a finger on, and therefore cannot articulate; but when experienced fellows offer it as a suggestion, you know that's exactly what you were looking for.

Whoring up.

I can't get over it!
It's an art, really. Of conjuring up a decent resume while scraping the bottom of the credentials pan and praying that you have enough (for them) to chew on. Of crafting the perfect statement of purpose while walking the line between marketing (read 'selling') yourself and maintaining your integrity.

Basically putting on the most attention-seeking clothes and make up and telling them they'll have a good time if they pick you.

Whoring up.

Well, what can I say?
It's... bang on!

The world

2010-11-27T22:33:00.000+05:30

is a two-way street.

One-way is against the natural order.

Speaking of one-liners...

2010-11-25T23:38:00.002+05:30

I got to know through an unexpected source that this line was given by my namesake! Of course I have no idea who it is. But it is a fantastic line anyway.

Any relationship -once given a name, will be
tainted forever.

so SO true.

A linguist's greatest curse...

2010-11-16T22:45:00.002+05:30

... is that the deepest and the most profound of things lose their value the moment they're put into words.

U-N-Q-U-E-S-T-I-O-N-A-B-L-E.

2010-11-10T22:39:00.002+05:30

I must say I was apprehensive about watching this movie, especially after being utterly disappointed and a little irked by Rajni's last- Sivaji. But it is only after Endhiran that I have truly become a fan of the superstar. He is just unbelievable. And I think he is most enjoyable while playing a negative character. The director has left no stone unturned, and for the first time, my apprehensions about watching special effects in an Indian movie have been proved unnecessary.

And Rajni. Looking yonger than ever. His comic timing. His screen presence. His humility. His unassuming self. Him talking about his past as a bus conductor in such a matter-of-fact manner after achieving such superlative stardom.

Take a bow, Thalaiva. Dot.

M@sterchef

2010-10-22T11:29:00.003+05:30

My History teacher once said that we are a country with one foot in the past and one foot in the future, so we end up peeing all over the present.
This is not just limited to History. We are a country that is neither here nor there in pretty much every aspect.

I am a huge fan of the reality show Masterchef Australia. I love the hosts Gary, George and Matt Preston. And every celebrity chef that comes on the show is just awe-inspiring. Because they KNOW what they're doing. They are aware of the subtlest nuances of the kind of stuff they cook. The passion they have for food is palpable right through the TV screen. It seems like they truly believe in what they do, and do it bloody well.

Cut to India.
Star TV lost my respect a long time back. You would think they're trying to redeem themselves by coming up with Masterchef India.
But, why, OH WHY does it have to be hosted by Akshay Kumar?? I can see the point in him hosting Khatron ke Khiladi, but why a cooking competition?? What does he know? Aren't there enough number of qualified people in the country that'll be perfect for the job?? Why are we as a people so bloody obsessed with movie stars?
Having him host this show is not only nonsensical, it's IRRITATING. It is not like KBC or Bigg Boss where the host doesn't have to be a specialist on money or human psychology. It is a show about food. Supposedly the best food in all of the country, and YOU NEED SOMEBODY WHO HAS A SENSE OF FOOD to host it.

No matter how many caps I use, my frustration does not seem to abate. So I'm just gonna ignore the existence of Masterchef India.

...cold comfort for change...

2010-10-19T18:14:00.005+05:30

The line between being an empathetic person and being a masochist has very high potential to get blurred. Maybe here I use the word 'masochist' as a euphemism for 'coward', just to put myself on a higher moral ground.

It is one thing to put yourself in the other person's shoes, but a whole other thing when you do it to such an extent that it is difficult to find your own feet. Unfortunately such things become apparent only in retrospect. Because when you are in the situation, you're giving in a little at a time, so it is difficult to notice the change. But when you get the whole picture in retrospect, it is shocking to realize that you've lost yourself in the attempt to understand somebody else.

It could be anything!. Somebody who asks personal questions trying to be 'friendly', somebody whose touch you are uncomfortable with, somebody who makes comments that shock your sensibilities, or simply people who(whom?) you just don't connect with!

The one reason (read excuse) for this is that the other person might be a good person at heart, and not mean any of the harm they're responsible for. THAT is when you put yourself in their place and think 'If I were like that, wouldn't the reaction that I want to give hurt me? You try to justify their actions because they're molded differently, and things might seems perfectly alright from where they stand.

But where do you draw the line??

Why I brought up the word 'masochist' is that this process of giving in inevitably leads to pain. And one might think that it is probably too late to even mention it because it might become an uncomfortable issue, or it is looked at as one's own fault to have given in in the beginning itself. So one starts feeling that it is better to bear the pain than stir the muddy waters. Then it graduates to a level where you'd rather take the pain yourself than give it to someone else because you think it will just be contained in you and you can handle it. You think.

The worst outcome of this painful phase is that you finally realize what has happened, regret for doing things that seem so out of character now, wonder what happened to the strong person that you thought you were, and try to come to terms with these chapters of life that you never thought would be a part of your biography.

These things take time to heal, and I have put ALL my faith in Time.

---------------------------------------
The other side to this story is the people who think it is ok to take unwarranted liberties, or are probably too self-involved to even think that they're doing so. People who can't take hints, subtle or in-your-face. People who are so set in their skins that they don't stop to think about how their actions might affect others. People who take you for granted.

----------------------------------------

I've tried to articulate these complex thoughts and feelings to the best of my abilities. I hope I've made some sense.

Hope

2010-10-16T00:34:00.003+05:30

is indestructible.

Whether to commend it for rising from the ashes again and again, or be appalled at its audacity to show up after repeatedly getting turned down, or pity its naiveté of perseverance or humbly submit to its undying spirit...

I'll never know.

One thing that has hit me again and again in life...

2010-10-14T23:51:00.001+05:30

That we are all, essentially, alone.

My new weapon of choice

2010-10-03T13:01:00.004+05:30

:) :) :)

(couldn't get image of a Cello Gripper :( )

______________________________________

This should've been posted a while back. But it only just came to me. This is to celebrate me becoming a teacher, something that I think is what I want to do in life.

My love is like a red red pen... :D

2010-10-02T16:22:00.004+05:30

Boys.
They have their priorities. Cricket. Cartoons. Games. Gadgets.

There is a very definite noticeable pattern in what boys choose over what. And it is not specific to a relationship. Fathers, brothers, boyfriends, friends.
They'd rather watch cricket and eat in the living room alone than join the family for dinner at the table. They'd rather miss a friend's call than miss a game or a tv show. They'd rather treat their laptops as if they were made of delicate crystal than respond to 'I love you's (which makes one wish to be born as an Apple Mac in the next life).

Let me make it clear right now that these are not complaints. Mere observations.

But why shouldn't they be complaints??
Because it is a simple case of having the cake and eating it too. They love us. But they love their cricket and gadgets too. Now, cricket and gadgets can't understand that there are people and emotions involved. But the people can understand that the boy will feel bad if he is expected to sacrifice the emotionless things. And the people give in, because now the boy's emotions are attached to the things.

Boys expect girls to 'understand' this. And girls do, in spite of hoping against hope that some day he will choose us over the remote. Maybe the day will come, but then we'll think whether he came because he wanted to or because he didn't want you to feel bad. We don't want that!

This, as is painfully evident, will always be an unresolved issue. After all these years of trying to understand the male sex better, this is as objective as I can get.

An 'I love you' can be said a minute later, but the wicket or sixer can't wait.
What say, boys?

______________________________________________________

Afterthought: It is not specific to inanimate objects. Even other 'less important' people are put before you. "Come on sweetheart, it's only because you will understand and you mean so much."

2010-09-28T23:55:00.001+05:30

I love Dictionary.com

2010-09-05T16:09:00.004+05:30

I come from a family of PJ crackers.
And I don't know whether the above statement should be uttered with the intonation of pride, embarrassment, or solemn prayer.

Pretty much all my male cousins can be, without a doubt, called funny. My female cousins are more into sarcasm and ragging. My uncles are what can be called dynamic, because they constantly, and erratically, keep moving from the labels of 'funny' to 'at least it's breaking the tension!' to 'oh god give me the strength' to 'how do I perfect my fake laugh' to 'where can I hide my face now'.

The surprise package though, are the women. So it goes without saying that the timing is unexpected, and the content of it too. But the effect is still the same. It makes you want to choke. On what is really unimportant.

So, what finally made me snap and give away this family secret on the internet, was my mom.

I was generally sharing gyan on my god AR Rehman, and how the music of Robot seems like such a let down, and the whole Common Wealth Games issue. I said that he might be losing it, or (I hate to say this, but) success has gone into his head. And how I thought that could never happen.

For which my mom says, "After the Oscar, he thinks there's no asker."

:-|

2010-07-19T06:16:00.000+05:30

uh... um... er...

2010-04-06T19:07:00.001+05:30

Dreams

of joining libraries
and lives

All that remains
is an incomplete chapter.

2010-03-08T16:38:00.000+05:30

I miss the familiarity.

I even miss the contempt.

2009-11-21T17:58:00.001+05:30

Shit Happens.

-----------------

This is not a post.
This is just an acknowledgment of the two most truthful words ever said.

Cheers!

What are you not saying?

2009-11-05T22:43:00.003+05:30

My eyes need to talk to you.
The words can wait.

My silence needs to tell you stories.
The words can wait.

My soul needs resuscitation.
The words can wait.

My senses need some answers.
The words can wait.

My skin has made memories. Of your first caress. Of your searing touch. Of how your single surprising soft fingertip turned unsuspecting bits of my body into epicentres of erotica.
My ears remember how your voice grows heavy, alike with passion and poetry.
My eyes have framed yours, looking like a kid in a candy store.
My lungs seek that pine fresh smell tucked away somewhere next to my pillow. I bury my face and get lost in the woods of wonder.
Lovely. Dark. And deep.
My mouth remembers pouring out the longing it never thought it had.
My dreams dance around you in dizzying circles.
My words remember how feeble they felt beneath the captivating pressure of your poetry.
My heart is banging on the doors of forever with every now that we captured.
My head echoes with your declarations of love. It rings with the intensity of your passion.
The time to measure life in coffee spoons is gone. I need gulps to satiate the thirst you awakened in me. The greed you unleashed.
My soul lies bare and begs for yours to lie beside, basking in the damnation of forbidden love.

My body needs to speak to yours.
Words, they can wait.

2009-11-05T22:05:00.002+05:30

I blew smoke into the eyes of sleep. I made him lose his way. Then I lay down with my eyes shut. Arms wide open. Welcoming him. Even praying that he'll find his way. Somehow. I'm sorry. But in this haze of self-brewed pain, I can't tell the line between lovesadismmasochism.

2009-11-03T18:48:00.001+05:30

there was so much love left

to give
to take
to find
to make

2009-04-23T02:05:00.002+05:30

an unsaid need
to express the unsaid
a desperate attempt
to capture the vagueness
a passionate pursuit
of the eternal evasion
a willful abandon
that ends in epiphany

the joy of
not knowing
not wanting
not doing
but still getting

2009-02-19T22:58:00.002+05:30

The fresh page looks at me
From atop my table
I stare back
Just as blank
We spend long minutes together
Like old friends
She, waiting for me to speak
I, wanting her to decode my silence
A smile, a sob
She'd settle for anything
She knows she can take it from there
But I'm so full of emptiness
I've given up on myself
All I can spare
Is a colourless stare

Random.

2009-02-05T19:12:00.002+05:30

I may not find out
Till I'm dead
What is better left
Unsaid.

==================

I'll know you have
A sense of humour, honey
When you stop thinking
That you're funny.

==================

Body hair protects
When
It scares away predators
Called men.

==================

The hardest time
To get through
Is when your sleep and muse
Evade you.

The Top Job

2009-01-20T15:45:00.004+05:30

Some professions are just previleged.

Paper guy
Plumber
Electrician
Carpenter
Construction worker

Nobody else gets unquestioned entry into the girls' hostel.

And if their timing is right, their perks include the view of babes in shorts/towels.

knot or naught?

2008-10-21T12:34:00.000+05:30

Call me old fashioned
Call me an outcast
In this growing global village
I need smaller boundaries
To show my loyalty
I need a smaller stage

It is not a pound of flesh
To simply give away
It is a lifetime of dreams
It is so typical of life
To show both ways
And give a choice of extremes

Patriotism is a virtue
So rarely visible today
That it must be prized
Patriots are a group of fools
Who carry hope in their hearts
(In return) for being marginalized

So don't ask me to side
With my soil or my soul
For it would tear me apart
Don't ask me to brighten
One side of my life
And leave the other in the dark

Don't ask me to choose
Between my heart and my heart.

What happened?

2008-10-15T23:12:00.003+05:30

Did love blind us
Or open our eyes
Was it our angel
Or just the devil in disguise

Was looking into you
Like looking into a mirror
Did the self I found
Fill me with terror

Was it the ghost of the past
Or one of the future
Will time heal all wounds
Or undo the suture

Was it all an illusion
Or a tempting fact
Or was it just my mind
Doing the balancing act

2008-09-12T18:44:00.003+05:30

You know one of those things you come across that hit you squarely in the chest and leave you breathless in the ecstasy of epiphany?

This is just one of those...

We dance round in a ring and suppose
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.

- Robert Frost

How many 'No's is it going to be before it is a 'Yes', finally?

2008-08-30T10:25:00.003+05:30

Perseverance is a prized quality. It works like the Gold Mine story. About going on digging in one place till you finally hit gold. About knowing that every 'no', every disappointing mound of dug up earth gets you closer to what you want, and leaves you deeper in your desire. Perseverance is like an axe hacking at every 'no' that binds a 'yes' somewhere beyond.

At one point in time, you are so sick of being constantly attacked, that you give in just to get it over with. With some people this point is reached with the second attempt, and with some it costs the last bit of ego or self respect. Or just the desire.
There is only one simple rule for the attacker.

Don't give up.

---------------------------------

Life has it's own incredible ways of teaching its simple truths. And this piece of insight into life was reiterated by a boy who just does not stop asking me out.

what vent write

2008-06-30T18:13:00.002+05:30

It's like traffic jam in your veins. You can almost picture it. A long clogged tube of poisonous blue beginning right at your temple, flowing down the side of your face and neck, your shoulder, right down your whole arm up to the groove between the thumb and the forefinger where it forks neatly into two streams, only to come together again in almost a perfect circle, pouring out the contents in the unifying channel of the pen, through the nib, that then stains the paper permanently. It is almost as if the grip of the pen sinks its teeth into the thumb and the forefinger, sucking out the venom and easing the flow in the veins.
The result is of supreme relief. Of lightness bordering on light-headedness.

The wonderful vent.

Writing.

2008-06-02T17:39:00.001+05:30

So what do you plan to do next?

Science: Masters in Nonlinear Dynamics
Arts: So basically, you don't have to think straight.

cartoon character sketch

2008-05-29T17:51:00.002+05:30

fresh breeze
wild joy
surprise calls
late night hours
precious moments
too few

funny poems
dark thoughts
loneliness disguised
plasticity despised

shy smile
bunny teeth
muffled speech
gentle giant
mental patient

green grass blue skies
loves the rain
hates the malls

pain in the neck
only because
he's so tall

unreal innocence
absconding common sense
eternal adolescence

meaningful madness
pointless poise
easily embarrassed
always awkward

biker dude
lookin' good ;-D

a free bird
lives on curd

punctuation repulsion
computer game addiction

lion by stars
puppy by soul

talks too much
never keeps in touch

hormonal drought
but gay he's not

soaring dreams
protective extreme

the inspiration
of sarcasm
the object of affection
of the object(s)
of my envy

nerd jerk
dope twit nutcase
nitwit numbskull

god's gift
evil's curse

this is what you are

free verse

2008-05-21T18:34:00.001+05:30

'move on'
is a dirty phrase.

--------------------------
This post is specially dedicated to Buzzworks. That may be the way of the world, but I don't know if I can ever let go of you.

2008-05-13T16:37:00.001+05:30

if there had to be
a verse dedicated
to each day
that we're separated

i'd want to stop
writing poetry altogether.

Oommmmmmmmmmmm.......

2008-05-07T16:43:00.003+05:30

Everyday, millions of stories die in my head.

I've read that line somewhere. Maybe in a big guy's book. Or a friend's blog. What's striking about this sentence is the truth of it. May not be millions. A few at least. Every single day.

Small observations, profound realizations. Guilty pleasures, white lies. Little joys, trivial fights. Scary thoughts, eternal hope.

Inspiration everywhere.

It is some job to isolate each of these everyday experiences, and find something in them worthy of documentation.

Maybe that's what Wordsworth was trying to say with that 'Poetry is overwhelming experiences recollected in tranquility' nonsense. It's starting to make sense now, when there is no essay-type answer attached to it. Murphy's timing I say.

Writing is a kind of meditation, (sounds sexier in Tamizh- Ezhuttu oru thavam) and I am just about settling into my posture.

dear god

2008-04-18T17:04:00.001+05:30

If there was ever anyone
who was fucked in the head
it is you.

- nonbeliever

I me myself

2008-02-28T02:18:00.002+05:30

That's probably the best way to describe my state of mind at this point in time.

I used to be a loner. Used to like doing things alone. Like living alone.
I had visualized a picture perfect life for myself. My one-room apartment; with a large double bed all for myself, a complete entertainment unit in front of it,my creature comforts, a small kitchenette, a lovely attached bathroom. A job that I loved. Sufficient money to spend on books, pamper myself regularly, and give away to the underprevileged. Visit parents occassionally.
There was no place for anybody else. It was a compact life. Compact- the way I like everything.

But as is the case with everything, things changed. Somewhere along the way, I went on attaching bits of myself to a few precious people around me. I wanted company to shop, eat, watch a movie, this, that and everything. I called people to stay over with me if I was alone at home.
There were times when I realised what was going on. And I didn't like it. I was a strong believer in the strength of solitude. Then why did I want constant external presence? I still don't have an answer to that.
But through out, I knew that the day would come when I would be alone again. Everybody would have their own worries. And doubts. And priorities. Evolution was a part of relationships afterall. And extinction a part of evolution.

But today has been like getting into an old pair of jeans. I feel close to nobody. Not in a bad way. It is a pleasant detachment. Liberating. Almost empowering. I left office on time. Went to my little home where nobody was waiting for me. Washed the dirty dishes. Had a head bath and got dressed. For the first time in my life, I walked into a restaurant and asked for a table for One. Had my solitary bowl of soup and walked out, and caught an auto right back to office. They 'can't do without' me, they'd said. Ha ha. Life has taught me a little more than to believe that. But I came anyway. Because there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

It was a pleasant ride. Cool breeze in my moist hair. And the voice in my head- not an empty echo, but a fulfilled reverberation. The feeling of being suspended in space by a single cord that was my relationship, with myself.

Peace.

2008-02-02T16:10:00.000+05:30

At this point in time, I think I can define what life means to me. Never thought I'd see this day. But hey, what did I know?

Life to me, has become a quest for Freedom.

freedom from childhood
freedom from responsibility
freedom from studying
freedom from dependence
freedom from boredom
freedom from work
freedom from calls
freedom from clients
freedom from schedules
freedom from other people
freedom from own people
freedom from routine
freedom from change
freedom from my dreams
freedom from others' dreams
freedom from myself

freedom, from this constant thirst to be free.

I want to blog. But what?

2008-01-03T14:06:00.000+05:30

It's not the first time. Everytime there is nothing to do, I feel like writing. But about what? That's never been a problem. If I said that life wasn't inspiring enough for me to put up atleast one post a day, I would be insulting my own life.
Then?
I don't know. It is either things that have too much back ground, things that are too personal, or things too big to be put in words. Especially by someone with a limited vocabulary like mine. That's when I truly appreciate the talent of those who can rant. And more importantly, rant well.
You should've figured out by now that this post has no point to make whatsoever. Well, guess it qualifies to be called a rant.
Wish writing beautifully came naturally to me. There was a time when I thought it did. Now it is scary to even admit that 'I write'.
Let's get back to inspiration. There were times in college, that were most conducive to let one's mind loose and wander freely into whatever realm it wanted to. One felt liberated. Empowered. Such produtive hours I've been extremely fortunate to have experirnced, and a special mention goes to one Psychology teacher Ms.Z. Her drone would be like a comfortable background noise. I didn't even need to hear my thoughts. They just glided smoothly from mind to paper.
There was once a time, when she was dictating notes, so I had to pretend that I was copying them. I wrote nonstop for the whole period. Most uninhibitedly. That's why I cannot put up what I wrote.
Digression has never been my problem. It is a welcome change, and almost always, there is something surprising that comes out of it.
I hated essay-type answers in school. And in college. And I still do. Because I finish saying whatever I want to say in the first two lines. To quote my darling Spidey, "It is my gift. It is my curse'. Unnescessary words irritate me. Utility has been the ruling quality of my life.
Conclusion is good they say. Closure. The calming last note after the crescendo. Since I've defied most other rules of lengthy writing, I don't find any point is sticking to this one. I can't write anymore now. I can't rant.
I'll stop.

By Experience

2007-11-26T12:21:00.000+05:30

Newton's Third Law does not apply to your place of work.

2007-11-13T10:10:00.000+05:30

'Did you always know it was too good to be true?'

'Nah. Sometimes I fooled myself into believing it.'

2007-10-17T10:03:00.000+05:30

It doesn't matter if we're looking in opposite directions,
as long as we're looking at each other.

2007-09-26T19:08:00.001+05:30

something.

Irony

2007-09-19T11:23:00.000+05:30

People who get free stuff are those who can actually afford them.

2007-09-06T14:42:00.000+05:30

All you have to do to make me happy
is just b.

All Is Well?

2007-07-25T16:52:00.000+05:30

The final Harry Potter book has been written and published, bought and read.

Is there anythng else to look forward to in life?

2007-07-02T14:20:00.000+05:30

For a person who's supposed to be good at writing, only one thing spills out of the void.
Words.
Never happened to me though. A void is a void is a void. There's nothing in it. So nothing comes out.
Does that mean I'm not good at writing?
Maybe. I don't care. Not anymore.
Maybe it's the other way. You try to fill that void with words. Try to be articulate. Try to figure out exactly what it is that you are thinking about. Though you're not supposed to be thinking about anything. Void, remember?
Then you get pen and paper out. To tempt the void to spill onto paper, so that by simple law of physics, your system will be filled with something else. Surely, there's some law that says matter flows into any unoccupied space. But then you think it was already unoccupied.
Maybe the physical is called vaccum, and the mental is called void.
I've tried it many times. Tried to articulate the fukking void. Never happens.
I've tried again.
And I'll keep trying everytime.
Because the alternative is too fukking painful. For others, and therefore for me.

------------
Sometime in a 'better' state of mind, I might just delete this post. The void will be hiding then. But it'll be back.

2007-05-28T17:48:00.000+05:30

Hold me tight
Hold me close
Hold me till I have an overdose

Kiss me hard
Kiss me tender
Kiss me till you make me surrender

Sounds like a nursery rhyme
But it's not a crime
We're just two kids in love
So let's get closer
Come on over
And make me grow up above ;-D

-------
Laughed myself silly after this. All abuses are welcome :D
But I could write songs for a pop album. Whatsay?

2007-05-25T14:56:00.000+05:30

Open the flood gates
Of the dam heart
They say
It should flow free
Because it's love poetry

Love is bold
He shines in the eye.
But Longing
She is a little shy.

Smell of wet earth
Wind in my hair
Rain had found love
But you're not there

And at night
Clouds restless in the skies
The only flood gates that open
Are my eyes.

2007-05-21T19:24:00.000+05:30

Mom says I never grew up the way she expected me to.

I'm a self-made woman.

self-portrait

2007-04-17T00:13:00.000+05:30

i'm not much of a thinker
i'm not much of an actor
i'm not much of a daughter
i'm not much of a sister
i'm not much of an optimist
i'm not much of an activist
i'm not much of a humanist
i'm not much of a socialist
i'm not much of a winner
i'm not much of a writer
i'm not much of a poet
so what else can i be?

i'm not much of anything
'cause i'm so full of me

found and lost

2007-03-08T14:39:00.000+05:30

Discovered on the first page of a little book owned by a regular college student:

I solemnly swear that I'll keep an account of all my expenditure in this stupid book, for the well-being of my pocket and my father's generous heart. I refuse to rely on my stupid memory.
Disclaimer: This is JUST a record, and it shall in no way control what important things I spend money on.

never mind.

2007-01-02T12:43:00.000+05:30

Thought I'll list out all the profound shit I came up with all of last year.
I can remember only one.

You can never fall in love with the boy you love.

Well, I have my whole life to find out.

-----
Update: Yaay!
I proved myself wrong.
So fast that too.

A Suitable Boy

2006-12-17T15:20:00.000+05:30

Just as I'm preparing my couch to enjoy my first night of guiltless sleep after exams...

Periamma(mom's elder sister): So, are you waking up at 5 tomorrow?

My face: ??!!??

My mind: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Periappa(well...): You should get up chellamma. It's a good practice.

Periamma: Yes. Margazhi madham is very auspicious.

Me: But what's the point in getting up so early??

Periappa: It's good. Especially for girls.

Me: What? In what way?
(and just realizing what century my family was living in...)
Oh! So that I'll get a good husband?

Periappa: (typical laugh) Yes! You got that right.

Oh boy. That's an incentive.
(pun unintended)

2006-11-10T21:46:00.000+05:30

I just realised.
Adult movies just cannot be watched with adults.
Wierd ha?

2006-10-24T20:10:00.000+05:30

I agree with elders when they say that education helps you earn money.
I gave my answer sheets to the kabaadi wala.
Money for Value.

2006-08-06T20:34:00.000+05:30

College isn't cool anymore. It's school.
____
Just about as bad as this post. Huh.

2006-07-01T14:50:00.000+05:30

Men's football should be played without jerseys.

fingerprint

2006-06-28T17:42:00.000+05:30

"That was so wannabe"

She felt like storming out of that Pizza Hut. They were having dinner together after six long months, and that's what he had to say about her?? She fought the urge to walk out. A lump was rising in her throat.

He looked up from his Pasta and read the pain in her eyes. He realised what he had just said.

"I'm so sorry, sis. I didn't mean it. It all came out the wrong way."

"I'm sure."

He put his fork down.

"I mean, you used to express things in your own way before. But now it feels like it could have been anybody else."

She heard this as an echo of her own thoughts.
Hadn't she of late so frequently wondered about the same thing?

"But that was no way to say it" said a voice called fragile ego in her head.
She chose to believe it.

When she spoke, her voice had a forced calm about it.

"So, is there anything else you have come prepared with to hurt me more?"

"No! Listen-"

"Good. Let's go home."

She walked out.

-------

"Hey bro! Come here a minute."

"What? Do you need help with the vessels?"

"Nah. Just felt like telling you something."

"Wow! You seem to be in a good mood. What's up?"

"You remember that day's 'wannabe' conversation at Pizza Hut?"

His countenance changed instantly.

"Look, I'm really so-"

"Shut up da. You were telling the truth. I myself have thought about it so many times. It's just that when you are in a particular group, you start behaving like them unconciously."

"I know."

"I am trying to be myself, alright? It'll just take a little time."

"I understand, sis."

He smiles and goes out of the kitchen.

She smiles and turns back to the sink thanking god for sending someone to the world four years before her to make her see sense.

People are strange...

2006-06-24T16:48:00.000+05:30

There are some people in this world whom you start hating from the moment you set your eyes on them, not knowing why. And there are people who send your heart racing at first sight. People, the thought of whom fills you with a warm glow. People who act like they have the answer to everything. People whom you love so much but end up hurting the most. People who pretend to be drunk after two shots of vodka with sprite. People who start their day by looking in the mirror and asking nobody in particular "am I sexy or am I sexy?" Some who feel lonely looking at the couples at Bandstand, and others thankful that their face is not being chewed. Some who remember the name of their crush in their first grade and others who nurture innocent love silently for fourteen years. There are people whom you can never forget. People who are born to be teachers. People who are plain cool. People who are superstitious about the rain. People who think Himesh Reshamiya is the best thing that happened to Bollywood. People who (heaven knows how) always do the right thing. People who'll remain nine years old. People who...

And there are anonymous people who call you a moron in the morning, and make your day.
:)

-------
This post is dedicated to that anonymous genius. Thank you.

Ahem!

2006-06-16T16:41:00.000+05:30

If you think Bangalore spits, Mumbai's phlegm capacity is incredible.

Special Day

2006-04-26T17:21:00.000+05:30

March 31st.
What's so special about it?
It's the end of the financial year.
That's it?
Well, it's also my birthday...

*sharp intake of breath*
I just realised why I am broke all the time :o

2006-03-19T23:08:00.000+05:30

I've been living alone for a month now.

But I haven't been keeping well for a week.

My dad, being an amazing doctor, thinks it's over work.

I, being what I am, think it's the joke of the century.

;)

tch tch tch

2006-03-11T21:29:00.000+05:30

Clear liquid in a glass container.
Good. It's summer.

Active ingredient: 62% alcohol
whoa! It only gets better!

For external use only.
Eh??

Too bad.
It was a hand sanitizer.

2006-03-08T22:16:00.000+05:30

Life,
you suck.
don't you ever get tired?

:D

2006-03-07T13:17:00.000+05:30

Looks like it's home n nostalgia season on blogger. And here is my contribution.

"Bhagavantha yentha colour kotta nodi carrot ge" ("look what a colour god gave the carrot")
This is just one of the innumerable things about Tumkur that make me grin from ear to ear. It was lovely weather. A crowded street in Tumkur. The air was cool, fresh and the words of the vegetable vendor rang through it above the buzz of the crowd. Middle-aged house wives were just drawn to the 'Arali Katte' (stone platform around a Peepal tree) where this marketing genius had positioned himself. You could clearly read the look on their faces that said "Damn you! My refrigerator is full, but I just have to buy something from you now." Clearly, the vegetables had nothing to do with their decision. I must say it was a strategic point, considering it was a Saturday and the Arali Katte was right behind a Hanuman temple. (For the culture illiterates, Saturday is specially dedicated to the monkey-god Hanuman)
There was a li'l kid sitting on the pavement, filling up plastic carry bags with tomatoes for 5 bucks. I was just standing there grinning. I was supposed to buy veggies too.

Next scene: Mom n I in 'Sunitha hotel'
This is the place where we catch up on eachother's life. We discuss everything from how boring the Ekta Kapoor soaps are getting but why she still watches them to how cheap the prize she got for winning the game at the last kitty party was. Basically- with all due respect and love- we just enjoy that bitching hour. Amazing woman, that. Too bad that she has to find happiness in such things in that small town. All this is done over a rava dosa and a strong coffee each. And the bill comes to 29 bucks. That's how much a single cold coffee would cost in our usual hangout in Bangalore. I grin again making a mental note to bring my Bangalore friends here.

But as I get out of the hotel, I see the changes around. Trees cut. Roads being broadened. A couple of supermarkets for a population of a few thousands...
Tumkur is a small town next door to Big Bangalore and is fast catching up to be an extention of the latter. And as long as I call it home, I hope it doesn't.

In the delayed spirit of Valentine's Day...

2006-02-24T11:29:00.000+05:30

'...I would quote from Plato. According to him, at the beginning of creation, men and women were not as they are now; there was just one being, who was rather short, with a body and a neck, but his head had two faces, looking in different directions. It was as if two creatures had been glued back to back, with two sets of sex organs, four legs and four arms.
'The Greek Gods, however, were jealous, because this creature with four arms could work harder; with it's two faces, it was always vigilant and could not be taken by surprise; and it's four legs meant that it could stand or walk for long periods at a time without tiring. Even more dangerous was the fact that the creature had two different sets of sex organs and so needed no one else in order to continue reproducing.
'Zeus, the supreme lord of Olympus, said: "I have a plan to make these mortals lose some of their strength."
'And he cut the creature in two with a lightning bolt, thus creating man and woman. This greatly increased the population of the world, and, at the same time, disoriented and weakened it's inhabitants, because now they had to search for their lost half and embrace it and, in that embrace, regain their former strength, their ability to avoid betrayal and the stamina to walk for long periods of time and to withstand hardwork. That embrace in which the two bodies re-fuse to become one again is what we call sex.'
-Eleven Minutes (Paulo Coelho)

Made me smile when I read it :)
(Incidentally, I'm listening to Romeo n Juliet)

But honestly, I think this day should be mourned for the death of St. Valentine.

The Call

2006-01-24T14:38:00.000+05:30

Urgent call.
I ran to answer it.
It was Mother.
I let out a sigh.
There was nothing more important than this at the moment.
Everything else could wait.
I unburdened myself on her.
Relief.
There is nothing quite like it.
Mother.
Mother Nature.

---
Cheers to the WC
:))

2006-01-24T14:17:00.000+05:30

'The only way I know of dealing with the general human conceit is to remind ourselves that man is a brief episode in the life of a small planet in a little corner of the universe, and that for aught we know, other parts of the cosmos may contain beings as superior to oursleves as we are to jelly-fish.'
-Bertrand Russel - 'How To Escape From Itellectual Rubbish'

Well. I beg to disagree. The only way I know of dealing with life is to think about the consequences of my actions before performing them.
Sir Mr.Russel has taken the liberty of looking at the 'Big Picture' here. I would have agreed with him at the moment I got carried away with this idea and spoke to a friend for three hours straight on the phone. Bangalore to Orissa. Let's see. That must be just about a nanosecond on the clock of the 'Cosmos', right? But life has the best way of getting back at you. Straight. In your face.

I should know.
I'm still waiting for the phone bill.

2006-01-22T00:17:00.000+05:30

There are two things.
Blogging. And Breaking down.
Not even grass or vodka can make you feel lighter.

Thank you, Finchie.
Love you lots.

2006-01-21T14:01:00.000+05:30

"You have demands in the world of Media. One can't be waiting for inspiration to write anymore"
These are probably the scariest words i have heard in my life. And even as I start sweating, i realise the abominable truth they hold. Inspiration itself took long enough to transform into words for me. And now to skip that crucial stage was asking for too much.
"We convert every emotion to fear."(Veronika Decides to Die: Paulo Coelho)
I agree.
But if this fear was inspiration enough, nothing else should be too much of a problem. Right?

2006-01-18T16:17:00.000+05:30

"Fuck, man!"
I swear to myself that I won't swear again.

A silent promise to myself....and that's when i hear the cuckoo. My heart starts racing. Like a pre-programmed chain-reaction, I think of Wordsworth. What (the hell!) did he find fascinating in this bird? The sound is jarring to my ears. Palpitation begins.
*sharp intake of breath*
"The world is already awake! I'm gonna be left behind."
*breathing difficulty*
"I'm such a loser! I'll never catch up!"
I rush to peek at the sky through my bathroom ventilator. It's the cold grey colour of day-break. Cold grey. The sky smirks at me. "Too late, darling. You missed the bus."
It's the cuckoo again.

"Fuck, man!"
I'm late for my 7am French class. Again.
Well, I stuck to what I swore....atleast a part of it.
And it dawns on me....I did miss the bus after all.
*sigh*

2006-01-18T10:17:00.000+05:30

Bitch.
That's what people call those who speak the truth now-a-days.

Well...
LOSERS!

(now you must know i'm speaking by experience)

2006-01-09T10:17:00.000+05:30

I've often heard people say
"why me?"
For a change I said
"why not me?"
And you know what?
God took me seriously

2006-01-06T20:17:00.000+05:30

It's easy to think
It's easy to write
But to write what you think...
Well, that's what i'm here to try