Fiction.

"Things were not supposed to be like this. She was not supposed to be like this. Why? Why...
The goddamn world was watching and laughing. While she blundered on, confidently; unharmed."

Closing the book, she bitterly smiled.

End point.

Bulging, breaking, wonderful joy.
Panting, shoving, thirsting decoy.

Red lines, blue lines, purple, once green;
What joy? Where joy? Dying sheen.

Blue black black blue blending blip
Hopscotch, red frock, neatly clip;
Once red, now blue, cold and clean
Step back, heigh ho! no longer glean.

One day end day unbridled relief
Checkmate haha twist and mischief

Ploughing, paving, careful and proud
Full throttle full circle now look who's caught.

I wonder. I wonder. I need to stop. :grim smile:

Disconnect

A white stone bench, a strategically positioned tree trunk. A scrap of pink cloth, dust to be brushed as it falls like a moon shower. The day is wrong, there are things one must do, proposals to write "We are going to marry the college." Gay laughter. I trace my foot on the ground, distracted. "Here, speak to her, we need to finish this." But I want to sit with a book, the sun refuses to glare, we must trudge to a clean office with messy timings and wait for a clerk who will grunt in answer to everything. I look back, the bench still looks the same, indifferent to me as I walk away. There's a hush as we walk between trees; a path created as gravel crunches beneath our feet and I catch my breath. No one else seems to notice. We need to hurry to the office. I will come back, when the day is right.

This one's really just only about me.

Bitter coffee with no sugar and a good back massage can do wonders to your body. Coupled with jesting with the black sheep of your family makes it quite… interesting. So talking to this particular cousin of mine while feeling the relatively new taste of strong, black coffee touch my tongue and go down my pipe, I discovered a lot of things about myself which I must’ve always known but never spoken out aloud. I never did want to go to school. Till fifth it was happy; school was just an excuse to do whatever you wanted, you just needed to learn the rudiments of geography and evs and those horrendous practical things one has to learn in order to ‘develop’. And then you could do whatever you wanted; you could paint, or read or dance or act or write or just enjoy eating. I liked mimicking Kathakali dancers when Thakurma would switch on the tv and ma saw how much I enjoyed it and decided that I should be trained. I remember thakurma arguing how I should be learning how to sing instead and how everyone in her family had turned out to be brilliant singers, how it was in my genes… and how maybe the fact that I was my mother’s child I had somehow unfairly lost the genes in the process. I remember ma asking me very gently if I wanted to learn how to dance; thankfully there was no pressure to nod a yes just because her eyes shined when she asked me; and I remember grinning from ear to ear and doing another Kathakali eye thing to show that it was an affirmative. I did Bharatnatyam for a month; somehow that’s the first dance form that comes to most people’s minds when they think of classical dance. Then I caught the loo and by the time I was well again I’d forgotten I had joined in the first place. I never went back to the aunty’s place to learn ta-hit-hit-ta.

Then one day I was waiting for another cousin of mine in the place he was supposed to ‘learn’ how to draw when I started scribbling on paper. I don’t remember what I drew but I loved it and since that day our evenings would be spent in drawing while the adults laughed and talked in the other room. We drew Tintin covers, wacky monsters, places we wanted to go to that didn’t exist anywhere except in our heads, action figures, big monster racing cars. Then one day—I don’t even remember when, I started learning Odissi. I loved every minute of it; I don’t know if it was because I loved to dance or because I was good at it or was it simply because I received a lot of attention as a result. But I loved each class and I would be eager to prove how I could outdo myself every new day. I remember the adrenalin rush on the first day we performed; how I loved the lights, the big stage, the audience’s eyes focused on us, clapping, watching, admiring. I was probably eight or maybe nine and my sari came loose while I danced and all I did was bunch it together and stick it somewhere and continue dancing; I would not let anything interfere with this. There were many performances later where saris were perfectly in position, spotlights were on me and I wasn’t dancing in a group anymore, but nothing ever quite beat that first time. I enrolled into a ‘proper’ dance-training school—a choice I’ve always regretted—got degrees, learnt a whole lot of ‘technical’ things… But somehow lost the happy feeling dancing gave me somewhere in between. I dropped out of dance school right when things were gathering pace, right when a New York tour was supposed to come up, right when we were told we’d been promoted to the elite class. I’ve never been more relieved, and I’ve never looked back since and regretted it for a day. Six years of dance school and not even a flinch while I calmly told my teacher I would be not dancing anymore.

I did not like school; going there was the most mechanical thing that I did. Day after day, month after month, and I never questioned it all; I just thought it a routine one is supposed to follow and you couldn’t possibly have a choice in. I remember sitting in classes not listening to a word the teacher said unless it was literature, and then I was all pricked ears and ready mouth. I remember loving PT periods where we would play kho kho or dodgeball or when the stupid boys would allow us, football. Which was rare, and the fact that nobody else was much interested in playing football in any case made me shy away from asking to be ‘allowed’ in the game. The only time they did want to play was when they thought they’d look ‘cute’ and it’d be a perfect way of getting a guy’s (and in some cases numerous guys’) attention. It was all very cumbersome. By the twelfth I’d worked out a perfect system to survive school. I’d calculated exactly how many marks I needed to be a ‘good’ student in subjects I did not like studying any longer and then devoted all my energies towards things that made me happier, and I was content.

I loved choosing to do English, I loved knowing I could choose my college, I loved the people around me, even though I was doubtful the first month if this was how college was supposed to be like. I loved the freedom; I had never known how much I had always wanted it. I loved knowing new things, and I’ve changed a lot, since those first days of walking into college in half pants and a black slogan screaming shirt. I’ve learnt to welcome change, I’ve learnt that inertia did no one ever any good. I’ve learnt getting bruised isn’t that bad; and that safeguarding yourself always is just plain cowardly. I’ve discovered unlimited potential in things that I never knew could have any depth. And I’ve learnt to know that things can be grey, and that it was actually me who believed in binary more than anyone else.

Itsy Bitsy Spider

Maybe I just need a change. Oh, check this out. Tremendous fun :)

Ugh, the prospect of everyone doing a project on Uncle Tom's Cabin is just dreadful. The :horror:

Sometimes I wonder if fooling people is really this easy.

My Playlist

Dream On – Aerosmith

I’ve always loved the song. It’s got such an honest, humble feel to it, zero pretence. No preaching, everyone’s at the same level. It’s a together song.

Brighter Than Sunshine – Aqualung

It reminds me of cold mornings with the sun warming your nose and there’s a chill in the air but parts of you are warm enough to enjoy the sting. It reminds me of being given an unexpected present which you hadn’t dared to hope for.

Times They Are A Changing – Bob Dylan

It’s such a forward looking song. My idea of a timeless classic.

Keep On Singing My Song – Christina Aguilera

This is by far the most celebratory song I’ve ever heard. My respect for her went up about a hundred notches. It’s honest and as defiant as it could be. Calm, and resolute.

I believe they can take anything from me
But they can't succeed in taking my inner peace
They can say all they wanna say about me

But I'm gonna carry on
Keep on singing my song

Whoa, & everytime I tried to be what they wanted from me
It never came naturally
So I ended up in misery, wasn't able to see
All the good around me
They wasted so much energy on what they thought of me
Simply just remembering to breathe

Clocks – Coldplay

Come out upon my seas, curse missed opportunities
A part of the cure, or am I part of the disease
You are
And nothing else compares
Oh no nothing else compares
And nothing else compares

You are
Home, home, where I wanted to go

I love the intro to this, even though it’s short. It keeps playing at the intervals between the stanzas, and it gives a lovely, wholesome feel. There’s a lot left pregnant in the song, and the constant repetition towards the end re-asserts it.

Iris – Goo Goo Dolls

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

The urgent, almost desperate need in the song comes with the repetition of the last line. Sigh.

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams – Greenday

It’s a lonesome song. It’s a self-accusing song. It’s also extremely conceited. I love it all the same.

November Rain – Guns N’ Roses

'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain

It’s sung in a melancholy strain, but somehow empty. Practical, maybe. But empty all the same. Carpe Diem. Dangerous philosophy, with it’s almost straightforward doctrine. Sung beautifully though.

Lips Of An Angel – Hinder

Well, my girls in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you

It’s the worst kind of deception. Because you deceive yourself into believing that you aren’t in the wrong, really. I hate the use of “my girl” in these particular lines. The audacity.

Collide – Howie Day

I'm quiet, you know
You make a first impression
I found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometime
Even the stars refuse to shine
Out of the back you fall in time
I Somehow find
You and I collide

Fuck. This song scares the shit outta me. It’s so brutally honest.

She’s Always A Woman – Billy Joel

I love the description of the woman here. There’s gentle complaining mixed with love for her, despite the faults he finds with her, perhaps more so, because of the flaws.

She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you,
She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you,
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free,
Yeah she steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me.

And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden
then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding,
But she brings out the best and the worst you can be.
Blame it all on yourself cause she's always a woman to me.

Afterglow – INXS

The beginning reminds me of an old Hindi song which I can’t recall now.

Here I am, lost in the ashes of time, but who wants tomorrow?
In between the longing to hold you again
I'm caught in your shadow, I'm losing control
My mind drifts away, we only have today

It’s a sad song. Something hits inside.

Leaving On A Jet Plane – Janis Joplin

Janis Joplin because I like the cover better than the original. I can’t help it, her voice does this to me. John Denver must be turning in his grave, but then my knowledge about music is extremely limited.

There’re so many times I’ve let you down
So many times I’ve played around
I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing
Every place I go, Ill think of you
Every song I sing, Ill sing for you

Somehow this song makes me cynical.

Somewhere Only We Know – Keane

Even though I love the song, these lines irk me.

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and i need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin

It’s selfish. You need to remember things when you’re high, not just when you’re low. No one waits around.

It was just the kind of day. The lane was empty, and I ran. I ran waiting for the rain to beat down and wash away everything that was on my face. Wipe it clean. The sun shone, and I ran. It still smelt of angry wet earth. It was that kind of day.

Buzz.

Pretend. To want it, like it, fight for it. Pretend that it hurts. Pretend that things matter, pretend that the pretense is essential. Pretend not to see it, pretend that you are happy, because aren't these things the ones you always wanted and should be content? Pretend that words mean things. Pretend wonder, pretend enjoyment, pretend things that ought to be there, but just aren't. And stare at puddles of mud that always glinted all the colours of the rainbow for you.

And soft echoes of an Elvis song play in the broken gramophone of my muddled puddled mind.

And home is where we earn our grace

Lets not begin new things today, things that need to end one day.
Lets make resolutions to break new ones we made yesterday.
Lets draw circles in the air so that nothing seems to begin or end.
Lets not forget things are not that difficult to fend.
Lets pretend smoothness where all there left is to grab air.
Lets force us to test if there are more things we can bear.
Lets not follow routines that we willingly make a part of us.
Lets pray for our sanity when we cant escape our thoughts.
Lets close tired eyes which can't hide lies anymore.
Lets seek out pleasures long forgotten in the cold.

Lets breathe out smoke circles that blow in strange new winds again.
Lets not begin something when we know it leads nowhere.