Sunday, December 27, 2009

Books !

I'm back from a long exile, o books !

Reading is one of the most relaxing things ever. I've missed it thoroughly, been ashamed of going from 2-3 books a week to struggling through 1 for 2-3 months. I guess I have a new years' resolution taking shape... And three books down already this month (i.e. December) is making me feel proud of myself. I'm growing again.

Books I've been absorbed nose-first in:

~ Outliers, Malcom Gladwell
~ Smoke and Mirrors, Neil Gaiman
~ A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini

~ And now - Multiple City; writings on Bangalore, edited by Aditi De. Something close to the heart :) (thanks for the gift!)

Perfect formula for the perfect long winter weekends - warm sweater, chai, bean bag, balcony and a book. If your dog's with you, have your feet tucked under his curled-up form (or have your cat snoozing on your lap) and keep the soft music playing in the background. Not kidding, you'll feel the tensions melt away as you're transported to different worlds by the words in them pages :)

ऐ हमसफ़र

दूर से मिलीं आँखें
मुस्कुराहट फैली दिल में
दूर... पास होती गई
आँखों की दूरियाँ नज़दीक |

दिल उछल-सी गई उन आँखों की पोहोंच से
जब टकरा गई मेरी आँखों की गहराई से
उछली-सी, मैं शर्मा गई
दिल मेरा घबरा-सी गई |

ये पल हमेशा मुझे याद रहेगी -
मेरे दिल की धड़कन और तेज़ भागेगी
जब इस अनोखी पल को मैं याद करूंगी
ये पल, जो मैं कभी नहीं भूलूंगी
ऐ हमसफ़र ||

A dedication :)

Nahiiiiiiiiii !

Worldspace is going off air in India, Dec 31st ! :( Damn, I wish I'd been a billionaire to help them out of this bankruptcy and keep the fabulous music going !

I'm sure Worldspace listeners and music addicts/lovers in the country will experience major withdrawal symptoms. And then mourn.

I know I will :(

Monday, November 23, 2009

Nostalgia

When it hits, it hits hard !

It's funny, how nostalgia makes you feel so happy and so sad at the same time.

Memories are what make us human, so welcome, nostalgia! :)

Noticed?

Most men are like hyenas. Just like hyenas jeer at dead things they are about to devour, men jeer, stare and ogle at anything that bears a resemblance to something female.

Ugh!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

If I could turn back time...

I'd probably make better use of it by wasting more of it! ;)

Tis the season...

...For weddings !

I never realised that this is the time of year when people get married until people my age and MY FRIENDS started to fall under the category.

[In shock]

[Gulp!]

[Still in shock]

And yes, this post holds so much more truth and intensity now !

Monday, November 16, 2009

Lesson

Bad medicine is to good health as overcoming weakness is to success.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Listen,

Do what you do without regret, and don't look back and wonder. That'll only teach you regret.

Hopefully

Never beg.

Ever.

It makes you question your self worth. And that's not worth it because you're always better than that.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Stories of Black Tea

I got a call at 10 pm.

"Get out of your house RIGHT NOW. We're going to get us some black tea."

And we sat there, the three of us with Clapton's voice washing over us, drinking small cups of the best black tea I've ever tasted.

Peaceful!





A long time pending. A long time talking. Long since I had been to Barista. The masala tea I drank black that evening made me feel so much closer to you, more comfortable because I was in my zone. Tired and a little confused, but happy. And I know I've got lots more I want to share with you.

A lot more chais are going to happen, surely :) Coffee for you, of course!





I needed a break. And as he asked for tea, my friend said, "Kaali chai please." It sounded funny and absolutely natural at once. I'm not sure why I've never said "Kaali chai" before.





Strong. Need. To. Destress.

Chocolate tea, in its black form and its tantalizing smell. In my big blue tea mug. Plus bean bag. Plus balcony. Plus fresh air from my happy plants.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! :)





Sniff.

Sniff. Sniff.

Snnnnnnnnnnifff!

[mild honking sound]

Black ginger tea is magical!





I'd walk in as I pleased. You, my friend, made the most amazing black tea ever. One after the other we'd drink. In your room on the floor, laughing, not a care in the world. Yamahatma days :)





The many, many exciting flavours of tea. Tea-tasting sprees! Strawberry, Peach, Blueberry, Camel, Blackcurrant, Chocolate, Apple...

Thank you :)





Back home. The feeling of "back home", being rooted to someplace. Someplace close to the heart, some place I think of as my haven, the place that you get to with three clicks of the heel. With the tornado of the life around, this was my little cubby-hole. My dog at my feet, the pleasant evening sun in my face, a light breeze, and the sound of my mother cooking, my father singing in the bathroom, and my sister scribbling little cartoons on sketch pads. And classic rock in the background.
Light, black tea that my mother handed me in a big yellow cup. Whiff of elaichi and tinge of ginger taste.

Home :)

Monday, November 2, 2009

Ha. Ha.

Irony and Satire are friends.

How there are ironic situations that are funny because you're enveloped in someone else's dark sense of humour!

Ha. Ha.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Death

Death is worst for those who live through it.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

WorkWorkWork

I have a bookmarked folder called 'Fun'. It's got a few online comics, dance videos, some crazy funny shit, and all that jazz.

I bumped into it recently - when I was searching for a work-related resource.

Tells you a lot about my life at this point, doesn't it? However, it ain't really payin' off. Refer - C'est la vie

Back to work !

:|

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Ten percent

They say you use only ten percent of your brain. Imagine!

(And it screws with you so much!)

Autos in Bangalore (and everywhere else)

A friend once said to me: Change is inevitable, except from auto drivers.

There is but one incident to prove him wrong, and I only have my great bargaining (slash arguing) skills to blame for it. This was when the meter changed from the Rs.12 meter to the Rs.14 meter in Bangalore, and all autos were being made to convert to using LPG rather than petrol.
Now, the thing to remember here is - I had a car that ran on LPG. And I knew that the difference between prices of LPG and petrol were huge. Autos were still running on the meter that charged passengers according to the rates they would've charged if they were running on petrol. Petrol was Rs.51 per litre and LPG was Rs.35 per litre. Makes a big difference to the pocket doesnt it?

With this background in mind, I shall proceed to tell you of my successful (oh multiple times, you just need to know how to argue) story.

[Please note: conversation was in Kannada, so if you find slangs here you cannot understand, you will find the translation at the bottom (its not as funny when its not in Kannada)]

(From MG Road to commercial street by Rs.12 meter was I think about 17 bucks, and by the Rs.14 meter, about 20 bucks - pretty much minimum)

Me: Commercial street hogtira?
Autoguy: Hoon, banni. Meter mele twonty rupees kodi
Me: Yake? Minimum aagatte tane?
Autoguy: Aitu matte fifteen rupees extra
Me: Irli bidi, hogi nivu
Autoguy: Yake, swolpa extra ashte keliddu. Nim ishta!
Me: (here we go)
Yen swolpa extra? Meter 12 rupees starting inda 14 rupees starting aagide tane? Matte, nivu LPG mele odstaidira, petrol mele alla. Andre one litre-ige 51 rupees bagge 35 rupees aagatte alva? Extra yenikke heli? Nimage profit eegle aagtaide tane? Sume extra extra ante bekishtu kelbedi. Nam hatra nu kaas kadime. Heli - bartira? Meter haaki.
Autoguy: (looks zapped) Aitu medam, banni. Ishtondu kashta patti neevu hadinaidu rupai kadime kodtira ! Appah!
Me: Yellarinda hadinaidu rupai extra tagontira, matte? Yellaru nimmige idella heltara? Nan ashte...
Autoguy: Aitu medam banni kutgoli. Commercial street alva? Banni.
Me: Banni. Thanks!

Translation:

Me: Commercial street, you'll come?
Autoguy: Yes, come. Give me twenty bucks on the meter
Me: Why? It's minimum isn't it?
Autoguy: Ok then, fifteen bucks extra
Me: It's ok, leave it, you go
Autoguy: Why, I asked only for a little extra. Your choice!
Me: (here we go)
What little extra? The meter now starts from Rs.14 and not Rs.12 anymore right? And, you're running on LPG now, not on petrol. That means you're paying 35 bucks per litre instead of 51 bucks per litre right? What's the extra for, tell me? You're making a profit even now right? Simply you don't ask for extra. I also have very little money. Tell me - you'll come? Turn on the meter.
Autoguy: (looks zapped) Ok medam, come. So much effort in fighting to pay fifteen bucks less ! Father (as word indicative of frustration)!
Me: You take fifteen bucks extra from everyone then, huh? Everyone doesn't say this to you right? Only I...
Autoguy: OK medam come, sit. Commercial street right? Come.
Me: Come. Thanks!


:) And so for once, I got the autoguy to go from one point to the other with the price on the meter.

Hurrah! :)

First attempt

पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि ज़िन्दगी क्या खेल खिलाएगी आज,
पडी थी मैं सोच में
कि इस ख़ुशी में क्या गुप्त ग़म है आज |

पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि शायद मैं कुछ कर सकती हूँ,
पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि यह दुनिया, दुष्ट, जिससे मैं डरती हूँ |

पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि पलट कर अपने दिल के भूत का सामना न करुँ,
पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि मेरे माता-पिता कि आकाँक्षा है कि मैं जो चाहूं करुँ |

पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि मेरी ज़िन्दगी हाथ से निकल-सी गई,
पड़ी थी मैं सोच में
कि पड़ी थी मैं सोच में ||

[First attempt at Hindi poetry! :| Please forgive me for the mistakes. The rest is poetic license ;)]

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Calling tourists

If you want to see what a joint or an extended Indian family is, get on a second class sleeper train. Non A/C.

In addition to this offer - the longer the journey, the more you will have the opportunity to see how dirty we Indians can get! :)

Don't forget to take pictures!

Non-hot men on HOT bikes

...Usually don't wear full-face helmets, if you've noticed.

To these men: I'd say delaying the disappointment is the way to go. Or better still - stay mysterious. At least women can be left with a better overall picture! :P

My little riddle

Question: 1186225376 = ?









Answer: India's population as on 11th July 2009.

It's about time to call in the population control.

[Disclaimer: I do not support acts of terrorism!]

The power of mouth !

Bauchklang, the Austrian beatboxing group.

Yes, ZERO instruments! These guys rock! And I happened to get to see them live :)

Watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BODnEUh-nUw.

Their official site is http://www.bauchklang.com/home_e_flash.html.

(I should maybe ask for a commission :P)

You know you're not ready for marriage when:

>Your friend's friend is getting married and you freak out
>You hear that a friend is getting married and you freak out
>You attend a friend's wedding and you freak out
>Your parents mention the 'M' word and you freak out
>You walk past/into a baby store and freak out

...and you freak out.

Universal Truth

The lesser the cloth, the more the money.

Whether I want to buy skimpy clothes, or I am by some unforeseen coincidence in a baby store, prices shoot up when there's less material involved !

Hairfall

Notice how that white (grey, whatever) strand of hair never falls? :|

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

C'est la vie?

Work:

My idea of moving up in the corporate world was not to move from the 2nd floor, to the 3rd floor, to the 4th floor! :|

Health:

A lot of people were commenting that I had lost weight, although I'm pretty two dimensional to begin with. I got a shock and was very very psyched when my belt did 2 rounds around my waist. A closer look revealed that the belt, in fact, was broken.

C'est la vie? :P

Revamp

New plans, new resolutions, new work tactics, new month - I know, not new year.

But there will be something new coming up. Like... a new, better blog :)

At least, that's the plan.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

A newspaper headline that caught my eye

"AZAD FAVOURS LATE MARRIAGES TO CURB POPULATION GROWTH"

How true :)

Also, no proofread errors.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Population control

Legalize homosexuality in India.






Disclaimer : Meant as a joke, no offence to be taken. My swinging friends, congrats! :)

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Is it Heaven or Hell?

It's interesting, the variety of answers you can get (especially on expanding into a follow up question of why) to this question by just applying them to different aspects of your life :D

Random Shit

I'm exhausted at work.

I miss my dog.

I miss my sister and parents.

I miss my friends and generally my favourite people.

I love music.

I can't really care, nah.

I haven't gone out in a while.

It's 4a.m. !

:P

Break a glass

I want to break a glass, after I drain the alcohol in it, hear it shatter. Maybe the sound will make me hear the echoes of the past and think again, use logic. Be practical, and smart again. Be me again.

Shoulder = Pillow

:)

2.30a.m.

When after work I craved for a cup of tea, zipping through the wind, not a care in the world. Replenishing ourselves, and thirst quenched, once again we embraced the wind. That rush of empty roads, and my hair far behind me, will always be a cherished memory my friend, always.

Photographs

...bring back so much.

Lessons in smartness

Don't stand directly in front of a toilet door when opening it - unless intentional!

Forgiving

Forgiving becomes easy when you think about whether and how much this will matter in ten years.

Making stories with the clouds

I watched, as the blanket of clouds vanished from under me, through the tiny opening in the airplane they call a window. Slowly they transformed into shapes; things that I could only imagine, slightly unreal things.

And, almost as if I was transported into the past, when I lay on my back on the hard floor of the terrace and watched as the clouds passed by, watched them quietly, enjoying my time with the sky.

A dog chased a car, and a star was born. Suddenly a dinosaur head emerged, and then a snake, or was that a skipping rope? Then the sky opened up, and I could see in the distance, a castle... approaching it, and the carpet of white all around like snow. Spikes every few feet made me think of Superman's home. How nice it would be to enter an alien planet. Then there was the big hole in the clouds, like someone had torn the blanket of white apart to peek in.

I felt like I was floating, back in my freedom, back in my happiness, back in the times when all I worried about was homework. Floating... floating... and continuing to make stories with the clouds...

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I found this somewhere

"Identities are floating, that meaning is not fixed and universally true at all times for all people, and that the subject is constructed through the unconscious in desire, fantasy and memory."

Thursday, June 11, 2009

I love DD News

They cover everything, and still have news for the hearing impaired! While every other news channel is cooking up news for greater viewership and generally better business, DD News is being truly democratic in giving news in Hindi, English and sign language. Hats off, I must say! :) I haven't watched this channel in a while, and their presentation is now much better than it was fifteen years ago, but they are essentially catering to everyone still.

:) Really, hats off!

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Controlcontrolcontrol!

Let not the thought escape the tongue.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

You and me and Me and you.

You are as similar to me as you are different from me as you are different from me as you are similar to me.

See? :D

Hungry

I'm a hungry girl.

Foodie like.

Those who agree, please leave a comment naming one incident where you cannot but agree :)

(Yes, I'm feeling random. And oh, hungry! :P)

Monday, May 25, 2009

Everybody's Fool

Sometimes life's like standing on a log thats floating downstream, towards the waterfall.

When you're standing in the grey, and surrounded by black and white.

There are no lines in your thought, everything is squiggles; sometimes this way and sometimes that way, with no direction whatsoever.

Its twilight, shining down on you, a confusion of day and night, today and tomorrow, bird calls and silence.

Its the stories you hear, one from this ear, and one from the other. When there is doubt and clarity at once.

That's when you realise you're everybody's fool.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

No backspace for life

It takes a lot to mend a broken heart.

Notes to self -

~ Stick to those neglected to-do lists.
~ Dance and sing more.
~ Get back to crazy exercise routines. Basketball, here I come!
~ Go home, chill.
~ Learn more languages (including sign language!)
~ Call those I've been meaning to call.
~ Go randomly spontaneous again.
~ Think less!

How things change, yet are the same sometimes.

Langdi,

I was just thinking back to the beginning - to the days of those long rides in the BMTC buses and being grouped in roll-call order for projects... and I can't be sure when or how exactly through these things it was that our friendship was cemented.

From there on - all the long talks, all the strolls through parks by lakes, all the notes passed in class, all the exams, all the chais, all the bike rides, all the car drives (all that traveling, basically :P) and all the times you didn't call me when you got back home safe :) Them countless philosophical discussions, all the people who came and went, all that we care about and growing into sometimes ugly, but pure adulthood. Those innumerable pictures, all the parties, alcohol and all the laughing, the people around us. The reunions in Bangalore, the trips to Goa and Parson's valley, the many drastic changes in our lives...

Right to the emails, long online chats and talks on the phone that would win us the best long-distance relationships award ;)

I am so glad I have you!

Kaleidoscope

That's what I discovered myself in, at MICA. A kaleidoscope of people, backgrounds, and thoughts.

One of the teachers there spoke with nothing but modesty and respect although he was very learned, older, and probably had every reason to boast.

He gave me a kaleidoscope, and I will cherish it - link it to the good memories of my truly inspiring time at the MICA campus.

Time travel

For my Powerpuff girl :)

Don't mix the past and present my dear. For, although you and I have our link in the past, we are here in the present, now.

Don't look at someone new in the light that you saw someone of old. Try, not to let those long gaps between the times we speak feel like gaps. This happens to us all yes, drifting is but common. We shall reunite, once again in another tomorrow, and then we will live like we used to.

We will time travel - to our common pasts, to our separate pasts, and through our present togetherness and linked futures.

Worry not my dear friend, we have time yet, time... to time travel.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Insatiable

Two things that will never be enough:

# MUSIC

# BOOKS

Don't you feel like you can never in your lifetime say "I've read every book there is to read" or "I've listened to every song there is to listen to"? I really wish I could say that. That's one ambition I'll probably not be able to reach!

It's an insatiable hunger though :)

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Perceptions.

I am not always the person I seem to be :D

The Swami Narayan Temple, Ahmedabad.

The smell of the burning wick of a lamp.

Young women, stopping to touch old women's feet.

Camphur.

Coloured toe nails of removed slippers.

Hands clasped and voices singing in earnest prayer.

Temple bell sounds, repeatedly...

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Why the moon is so beautiful:

White light in a glowing ring,
An illuminated ball of off-white,
In the blackness of heaven suspended this thing,
In the pitch darkness, the only light.

Staring at it makes me feel so peaceful,
It alters my state of mind,
From stressed to deeply soulful,
There is nothing else that induces an emotion of this kind.

Stationary it remains in its pearly glow,
A mark of pure in all the black,
And especially when its hanging low,
It makes obvious the beauty we all lack.

In all its phases - waxes and wanes,
Slim as a witch's smile in the sky,
Or a half-bitten cookie lighting up dark lanes,
Under its comforting light forever I can lie.

Calculation

I have developed a theory on my own observations.

Speed of typing ~ 1/Speed at which you can calculate.

Any voters? :D

Haunted.

I want to live, without being haunted by myself.

Pepper

The way he looks at me, with those doleful eyes, love spilling over from them, makes me want to hold him in a tight hug forever. I miss my dear doggie. Like crazy! No one can love me as much, and I can't love anyone as much. I wish I wasn't so far away from him. Sigh. I love my baby Pepper!

Friday, April 3, 2009

Decision making

Me: I need to learn how to make a decision!

My sister: I can help you make a decision.

MAKE YOUR OWN DECISION!!!

:D

Monday, March 30, 2009

Parents.

Parents are the smarter species. There's no two ways about it.

Here's something to think about.

Are you ever truly happy? You may experience defined moments of happiness, but it isn't lasting. Even during the phases of life when you're relatively happy - which means you're less sad than usual - you are sitting on edge, constantly questioning, waiting, with horrific anticipation, for the next thing to go drastically wrong. Even if something isn't about to go wrong, your overactive imagination will tell you that there is something drastically wrong. Moments of happiness don't come often. In fact, sadness comes disguised as a moment of happiness.

Want an example?
Say you meet an old, dear friend after a very long time. That moment when you meet, is your happiest moment. As you sit and talk, you reminisce in the good times you had had. Then, you start to grow sad that things aren't the same, you wish that you could rewind time. Nostalgia they call it. It lasts for the rest of your conversation. Then, its time to leave - you're sad to be leaving. Once you're alone with your thoughts, you think of how great it had been with this friend, how times have changed, how things aren't as great as they used to be.

You draw instances from your past, some you're not proud of, some you don't regret. And then you remember the dream you had at that point in life. And you realise you haven't reached your goal, you are growing old, and your dreams seem so far away, so far out of reach. And you listen to a song that increases the nostalgia. And you think, how you might've let down the people in your life who're important to you. How you've not done enough sometimes. How you hadn't done enough, how you did too much. How you gave yourself away, without really caring about what you were doing. Then, next time, not being able to give that easily because you gave too much before, and you're once bitten, twice shy. You realise that you want to be a good person, something you would've been proud of, had you still been a child. And you realise that at some level, perhaps, you have let yourself down. And that becomes the hardest thing to live with. You are still afraid, of what the future holds in store, whether the people you care so much about will stay in your life or drift away, and you will perhaps continue to hope that things will get better, easier. Continue, to learn that your hope is in vain. Continue, like you can't run from it, to set yourself to certain things, and disappoint yourself. Continue, to dwell in the bane of life. Continue, to hope for no change, but make amends, because change is inevitable. Wait, for life to lash at you again, and hold out your skin, toughened and hardened by past blows, to take yet another.

Fall, pick yourself to fall yet again. Such is the constance of life, much like waves of the sea - up, down, up, down, up, down, only stopping in a final crash of death.

You never know who's life you're screwing up.

Ever.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Pour vous

Bathed in the glow of the half light of the morning filtering in, I watched you watch me. You smiled at me, flash of white, lighting up your face, lighting up mine in a smile back. And between our delicate black and white kisses exchanged, I wanted to tell you something, yet I didn't want to tell you, it only would have defined that moment. And I want to tell you when it defines more than a moment.

All that you tell me mingles with the swirling thoughts in my own head, a complex combustion of the colours of our conversations.

I wish it were easier, yet I know it won't be. Maybe our similarities in a lot of ways makes it easier, or more difficult. Those things that are different - they glare at us with bright eyes.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Sinking into bed

Its one of the greatest feelings, to come home after a tiring day at work, and look forward to nothing but lying down on your bed to feel the tiredness ebbing away, getting soaked into the mattress under you. All the effort you have to put in as sleep beckons and your body relaxes, is close your eyes... and let sleep take over.

The Jarwar Boy

Both he and I, strangers to each other. I wondered what he was thinking. What he thought of us. We looked upon him as a tribal, someone who lived in the forests, not exposed to the result of the industrial revolution. Dark he was, with hair shaved, but for tiny dots of tight, curly hair on his head, black as dirt. All he wore was a thread around his middle, with an orange cloth attached to it to cover himself. Hands full of grime, he reached in through the window, wondering what to take from us. We were the abnormal in his normal world. He was the abnormal in my normal world. Both, curious about the other. Turns out, he knew Hindi. I'm not sure if that surprised me. I don't know if I was glad to be how I am, or I wished I could live like him too, with only nature for company, with no clue of what it was like outside the forest, but for passing vehicles like mine that he stopped and tried to get little treasures from the outside world from.

Sunset from a ship

I watched.
The great big ball of fire, being devoured by the dark mountains in the distance I watched. So gracefully the sun dipped into the horizon. Leaving the mountains erupting brilliant red at the top, like a volcano. The sea no longer reflecting the distorted image of the sun, the sky now host to the sun's leftover colours. Mountains grow darker in the distance, the sea turns from red, to clear blue to white to a navy blue and then to a dark, disturbing black.
The sun has set.

A holiday in pure beauty

Have you ever seen.
Such a blueness of sky. Such a clearness of water.
Heard.
Such a sharpness of bird calls; found such precision in a blue crab's leg from a green shell.
Felt.
Coolness of water, reflecting the sunlight in each wind induced wave. Seen intricacy in the veins of leaves, discipline in the swimming of fish.
Touched the fineness of the soft white sand, cushions under your soles.

Think of how small you are, how inconsequential. Not half as beautiful, the man made world, not half as peaceful and happy.

I want to melt... into the log I lay on, soaking in the warmth and the sounds around me. I want to sink into the sand, into granules just as fine, and dissolve into the water, all consuming. I want to leave no footprints, no sign that I existed in this beautiful world, too beautiful to be spoiled, by me or my kind.

Jaded

Jaded, we are all jaded. We look at each others' faces and we question.
Cynical, we are all cynical. We look at a good thing and find in it an ulterior motive.
Love is an alien word, we don't hear it, we don't use it, we are afraid of it. We are afraid to care, we are afraid to let others know who we are. We are afraid to show, we wear masks for faces.
The past is too far for us to believe anymore and the future, too bleak. The present is a hell we cannot burn in, and heaven is but imaginary.
What has become, say we. To the world what has become. But we hear and we speak and not listen.
We look at the faces we are supposed to love and question, measuring and analysing features, like the stock market.
We are the world?

Hope?

Sometimes, but rarely, I wonder if I made the right choices. I know that I would not have appreciated who I am now a little while ago. I know that in my head, I am still the traditional but broad-minded girl my parents raised me to be. But I have sprouted wings that belong to me today, and even though they are the same shade, they are wider, better. I know that on some levels, what I'm doing is perhaps not right. On some levels though, it is.

I have some hope. I only hope that this hope is not in vain, like every other time in my life.

Wine

I love the taste of wine on my lips. Sour, just like life.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Directions to wash your hair

[If you want hot water to bathe with, start here]

#1 Turn on the geyser/ water heater and leave it on till the water gets hot enough for a headbath (about 15 minutes should do the trick. Note: This is on an average, you might want to go with 5 minutes in the summer and 25 minutes in the winter)

#2 Turn on the shower, turn on the hot water switch/whatever proves to be the outlet for the hot-water pipe.

[If you want to have a shower with just cold water, begin here]

#3 (or #1 - for those using cold water*) Turn on the cold water switch/whatever proves to be the outlet for the cold water pipe. (Note: Hot water users - adjust the temperature between hot and cold water nozzles to suit your needs. Cold water users - You're not getting hot water since you haven't switched on the geyser beforehand anyway, so turn on anything you want in there!)

#4 (or #2 *)

I cannot believe you're still reading this. You don't know how to wash your hair?!? (Eww!)

After a haircut

"Hey! Did you cut your hair?!"

"No you dufus, I'm wearin' a wig!"

"Whoa! You're wearin' a wig?!?!"


"No you dumbass, I cut my hair"

"Ah, you cut your hair did ya?"


"No you freakin' idiot, I'm wearin' a wig!"

"You're wearin' a wig?"

"No you moron, I got a haircut!!"

"Oh you got a haircut."


"Yes I did."

"And you're not wearin' a wig."


"No, I'm not."

"Oh ok."


"Bloody fool!"

They made so much sense!

He said: People come and people go. Deal with it.

She said: You are never completely emotionally honest with anyone but yourself.

He said: If you knew someone was going to die, what would you do?
I said: I'd either distance myself from them so I wouldn't know them in death, or I'd get closer to them to make the most of the time that was left.
He said: Which one will you do?
I said: The latter, I guess.
He said: Everyone's going to die.

She said: I read somewhere; the opposite of love is not hate. Its indifference.

He said: Chai? :)

She said: Festivals means family time. I'm going to celebrate all the festivals with full josh! :)

He said: We're not 17 anymore, we all have a past. But it's just that - the PAST.

Lying Awake

Lying awake, I stare straight into the ceiling. Through the darkness. The darkness, between the ceiling and me. I think. I think thoughts that are not forming in my head, thoughts that are beyond my reach. I think... slowly and then fast. But the speed of my mind is too great, the thoughts I cannot grasp.
I think of all of those who I've inadvertently written off, and those I've kept close. I think, how some people seem to appreciate my presence, and some seem to brush me off. How some seem to care, and how some really do. I think how I've come to know people, and how right or wrong I have been.
I think of how some people are so complicated... and some right there. I know people, piece by piece. They know me molecule by molecule. Some of them are oh-so-right and some, absolutely wrong. I talk without thinking sometimes. And I think without talking sometimes. And I think. I think too much and I think too little. I think of what I was and I think of how things were and how things are. And how things will be. And I put myself in others' shoes so much, I forget my foot size. I talk a lot. I talk too much. I put my foot in my mouth. Sometimes I am inconsiderate. I hide. So nobody knows. I am a chamaeleon. I am the secret keeper. I don't know for sure if I know who I am. I don't hate myself anymore, but I don't love me either. But I love my family, my friends. Wholly. Like I think they love me back. And I cannot love without being loved. And if I am loved by someone else, I love me. I have so many stories that I myself am complicated. My life revolves around music. Music - each song tells a different story - that's an embedded part of my memory. My never ending, powerful memory.

Rewind

Ever wanted to go back in time and live as someone else? During those times of war and the time of no email, just post. The time when there were causes for revolution and not just personal wars? When there was such a thing as romance, involving wooing for months on end, and elaborate dresses and even more elaborate hair? When there was time to stitch clothes, to read and write books by hand, to sew, to paint for a hobby, to own fields and plant grains and love cattle?

Somehow, it seems like it was all so long ago and so far away even though it was just one generation ago. Back to a time of discoveries, when mysterious enveloped the world... there was always a peacefulness in the people; a sense of security being among themselves, though in an insecure world. A time when a small special treasure made the best gift to give, and a time when everyone was not complicated, not burdened by competition so much, not striving to survive, even if it involved stepping on someone else. Where people clung strongly to hope, and did not turn cynical. When people used to dip pen nibs in a bottle of ink to write a letter. A time when the littlest of things meant something, because the bigger picture was something almost beyond control. I want to go back to one century ago, when life was not about finding oneself only, but also about finding out who was like you, watching their back loyally, telling them how much they meant, and so on. You know what I'm talking about. An era which is past, a time of dreams coming true and dreams being mixed with reality.

Pieces of me

Railway stations. Bustling with people. You can hear the sound if water falling somewhere, and you can hear the traffic just outside. Conversations, all around, in different languages. A plane passing overhead. Beggars, touching, holding out cupped hands and wearing disdainful expressions. Men ogling. An electric train rushing in, only to pause for a few minutes before rushing out again. A television blaring somewhere. Dirt, along the edges of the track. A wrapper at my feet. A bunch of boys selling pakoras, climbing down the platform and crossing over, to reach the opposite side.

My phone rings.

The train is beautiful. Very clean, and a pleasure to be travelling in. It should never change. It's practically empty. And a wee bit cold.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to understand something. I'm not sure I can be expected to do something, or to be somebody. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing. I wonder if I'm only pretending to embrace life.
I've grown up so much. I miss the good old times. I miss the days of seeing that crazy bunch of girls I loved so much everyday. And all my favourite boys. I miss the days of constant exercise and activity. The noise everywhere. The many cups of tea. The experiments. The running in the rain. The laughter, never dying out, never fading, ringing in my head. Them, who I'd meet at an hour's notice, the house I would go back to, sit at the dinner table and share some of the best moments. That unbelievably good food. Being alone and in pleasant surroundings when I feel like it, talking to my sister beyond the boundaries of earthly hours... watching everything pass me by so quickly...

The train is moving fast. I'll be home soon. Facing the reality I ran away from. Meeting, and finally talking to my dog. Talking to everyone at home, and to my friends. Those who I've distanced myself from.
They wait for me, on the other side of my life. Where things that were let go were resurrected in a different form. Where people were different and I had changed. Where I was living an independent life.
I want to be able to collect myself quicker. Keep the essence while, for everybody to see, I live in reality. Where there are people, where there are the sounds of the city, and lights rushing by loudly. My mind is still stuck in a place where there were woods, and us cousins cycling, me trying my first cigarette, and walking wordlessly in the wind. Just walking.
I relive them. Everyday. Feeling my heart behind my ribcage as I do.

I want to give once again, but I am still collecting myself. It won't take too long. There aren't too many pieces of me left to pick up.

Monday, February 16, 2009

I can't look into your eyes

I can't look into your eyes. I'm afraid you'll see my soul, afraid you'll see my raw emotion. Afraid that I am vulnerable and intense. Afraid that you'll see I'm not so tough after all. Afraid that opening the windows to who I truly am and letting you in will hurt me. Afraid, to be hurt. Even though you said you wouldn't. I hope you don't. I want to try. Holding your gaze might be my biggest challenge.

Look now, into my eyes and you'll see who I am.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Some things never change...

.....or so you think!
 
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