2009

A tad bit late, but here nevertheless.


This year is going to be scarier. Scarier than the last few ones anyway.

And my brother gets to eat pizza and fun food everyday at office, whenever he likes. And I dont. Life sucks.

Elfin lafin(e)

Anger.

The kind that boils, twists inside you until you're left with a coldness that refuses warmth.

Unhappiness.

The kind that leaves you thinking of nothing in particular, except a faint feeling of emptiness which is quickly taken over by a wave of frustration at it's meaninglessness.

Reaction.

The kind that makes you want to punish and hurt until they scream. Except whose punishment, whose hurt.

Anger.

It always returns. Washing over like a wave, relentless, unhappy, stifling.

Strange!

I never realised. I like talking to my books. Especially during exams. *glee...*

Men.

Irritating sonavabitches.

I say

1. I would always beat you at hopscotch
2. I would eat your pasta
3. I would probably feed the seagulls to the sharks and then cook the sharks for breakfast
But I like the sleeping part.
And the painting part.
Not to forget the cheese, the you part.

But I like seagulls :( OKay we'll work something out about #2

I want to learn how to play the saxophone. And I wanna read things to you when you're half sleepy. I wanna lie down on top of you and roll around and pull each other's hair. And most of all, I dont want this to go away.

Ring-a-ring-a Roses

Looking into the mirror to admire something you've created. Then watch it shatter into a million pieces while the devil grins maniacally at you, scoffing, mocking, pitying.

Strong daydreams woven into a smooth tango of sorts. Continuous movement with a perfect energy that wraps you and throws you up into the air; a giggling child with the assurance that you will be caught, again and again.

Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

And all fall down.

I almost sent this to you instead

But let it remain anonymous.


I want. *gathers up and loves*

I think when I hate everybody, and I would want no one, you'll be still around. To love. Maybe its how disconnected you are. Maybe it would go away if I spend enough time with you. Maybe you are just a construction of who I think you are. Maybe not.

Maybe its only me who feels it. A parallel conversation where we are confessing so much. Maybe it is just my imagination.

Relentless

A special kind of madness. The kind of madness that we hide everyday, in our little homes, in our big cars, in our little hearts.

It envelops us one day. This kind of madness. We cry out, a piercing shriek resonating loud between our ears which we only hear, we suffer, we live with--day after day, month after month, sometimes submerging in the tiny fragile lives we have created on our own and sometimes we are dead.

How many of us keep living in this shrieking world where there is no peace, no quiet, no sanctified part of our life just spent cluttered with nothing.

* * *

And then at times there is this absolute quiet. No more noise, and dead, deathly silence. Does the silence pound into your ears making this momentary respite from--what do they call it--madness a strange sort of a test? Sometimes they plug your ears with ear wool. Sometimes they put you in those things they call asylums. Special cells, where all that screaming is supposed to stop because they strap you in a straitjacket & give you periodic electric shocks your senses are to be numbed to a sense of quiet. You rant and you scream, telling them its not working can we have some milk in here I'm really hungry and no one cares & no one listens and this dense quiet with the relentless screaming envelops you & soon you become quiet, struck dumb by the constant non-respite.

why would you do that. cant the screaming stop. why. who suffers this much. and the tell you its you, its you and you cant believe them because it cant be, it cant be...

Spinning meaningless tales

After attempting a conversation for a while, both of us relapsed into silence. We couldn't find out if the silence was strained, there was no opportunity. People thronged around us as we desperately tried to find words that had always somehow never managed to find their way up the ascending wall of unfamiliarities that we had created for each other and ourselves. Sometimes its the finest thing to be stuck in an over loud, over crowded public function. Atleast it saves you from finding out uncomfortable truths about erstwhile close relationships. Sometimes things left in a closet serves best. Sometimes silence is best.

05/02/08

She smelled of cheap perfume and sweat. The sickly sweet kind, with the sour, decadent odour of real, human sweat. It filled the air around her, causing people to wrinkle their noses as she hurriedly elbowed them out of her way. This was not her time. Her black purse noisily clanged against its metal strap as her heels clattered to the rhythm she walked to. She looked around once, twice, decided something, shook her head and hurried on. She paused by a corner tea shop, glanced at the surprisingly expensive looking watch on her wrist and turned the corner.

****

Can I tell you that I really don't care? That I'm a monster without feelings or do monsters have too many "feelings"? Hide, cover up with a politely enquiring face. I think I'll burst.

Death.

Dying, everything is.

Muted noises, the sound of horns, a sudden wind. People talk. On and on and on. Smile, click click brb. Someone called me Mary Poppins once. I can't believe someone called me Mary Poppins once. It's dying. And for some of it... I think its for the best. Atleast its not a slow fade away. A sharp chop; thats all I always ever needed. Maybe the time is right. And even if it isn't, what of it.

***

And Jimmy said, "They all want to escape from the pain of being alive. And most of all, from love."

Online Petition

On the thick attempt to scrap the English Entrance Test. Pooh!

http://www.dubeat.com/?p=108


Please sign if you agree. And spread the word.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.


-W.H. Auden

Grunt.

A frame empty? Nah. I consume all. And destroy. So much blood. Happiness.

Rush

Things that make me scorn you.

"Take care of her"
"Thank you"
"Something special"

Fuck you.

And cookie said 'pooh'

Maybe its gone. Maybe its over used, over hyped, over wanted. Over. As if an innocent bystander pregnant with over wrought meaning and increasing liability.

An uneasy laugh escapes. What do you need to do? believe? Believe in what? Ha. Doubt. Suspicion. Mixed with just the tiny suggestion of deceit. Spun strings in a kaleidoscope of...ugh... reasonable wants. Desires. Whose a tiny voice asks. Forceful suffocation. We will know only when the rest of them sing it together. Then we shall look fondly at the world at large and the spotlight that is too carefully, glaringly, suddenly focussed on you and pretend pride that I scoff at. A finger in each pie and you are happy oh so happy and you pretend. Bitter, bitter pretense.

Anger. Bulbous, screaming, shuddering anger. Slowly red to a steady, dead white. White hot coals. Always sounds so fascinating in print. Maybe its a loss of cocky swagger. Maybe its the final setting in of your surroundings. Maybe its a realisation of sorts of things that you have and do not have because of so and so. Maybe its a final anger directed towards the "unfairness" of it all. Ha. How neatly escapist.

Maybe I need out. Out of this, out of work, out of longing, out of impulsive fireballs. Need. Maybe I need to need. For a change.


***

Postscript: Vexation. Ha haha. Hahahaha. I wish I was Mojo Jojo. Atleast it'd be real.

MB

No no no no NO! Shut out the noise and stop the caps. we will have some peace tonight. hammer jabber the way you stop talking to people just because they cant respond anymore atleast not respond the way the next in line would and so you move on and learn to shift buttons and thoughts and words and people and translate it and mould it to suit you and not them anymore. "too much noise i think." haha... what a perfect excuse. surprised and confused and quieted all in one go. wonderful. but the questions keep coming. why when how whywhenhow and you deal with each one their own way. you let one of them keep talking and reply vaguely to the other convincing them but leaving them with an uneasy dissatisfaction but i dont know if i care anymore but yes i probably do and i hurry to delude them but atleast not that never that. Criss cross cancel ping. Quick delete. Would you get hurt if i dont want you tonight? maybe want is the wrong word. Gnite.

The tag thing :)

Last movie seen in a theatre:
You Me Aur Hum. Today. A few hours ago. Argh!

What book are you reading?
Artemis Fowl; A Suitable Boy; Che's Diary, the Bolivia one.

Favourite board game:
Too many! I like! But they always cheat in Scotland Yard :( And no snide comments about how I always lose please ;)

Favourite magazine:
Um.

Favourite smells:

Wet earth, sigh. What a high. Dad. Panther Boy. Sometimes some books. Subu on most days. oh! oranges! hehehehe :)

Favourite sound:
sometimes, no sound. and sometimes so many. oh so many :)

Worst feeling in the world:
Aaki said it. I dont like :( Not her saying it that is, lol. ;)

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
Mm? Its time to get up already? Already????

Favourite fast food place:
Mm. Stupid question.

Future child’s name:
I think I'll let him/her choose theirs =/

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…”
blow it. On good food, on trips, on massive bathrooms like Hogwarts' Prefect's loo.

Do you drive fast?
When I'm alone. Which is not exactly a good thing :S Literally that is. Metaphorically... Well I've begun. I dont know if its a good thing or not?

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
Nai. I once slept with a huge dog someone gave me for my birthday that day and I had a nightmare about it. It was terrible. I dont like stuffed things in my bed :S Except pillows.

Storms - Cool or Scary?
Oh VEVY cool ;) ;)

Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
I dont waste food, so I probably would, except I don't know if I would ever order broccoli. Or cook it.

If you could dye your hair any colour, what would be your choice?
Purple! Blue! It keeps changing! What I want that is. Never my hair =/

Name all the different cities/towns you have lived in:
Delhi. Oh and Delhi. I would say damn but I love the place. But I will live in many cities :)

Favourite sports to watch:
Almost none. I would much rather play. But tennis I guess.

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you:
Aaki! The weird fellow blogger thing is not enough to know a person well. But I love the way she can write, I love the way she lives. And doesn't just exist.

What’s under your bed?
Okay no jokes about monsters. Not cool :S

Would you like to be born as yourself again?
I love living as me. But then why would I want it all over again? Another thing, which I should love almost as much, if not more.

Morning person or night owl?
I would say neither, but probably the latter.

Over easy or sunny side up?
Over easy now... Used to be sunny side up since forever.

Favourite place to relax:
Different places at different times.

:) I just had a series of photographic clicks sort of things of the places I would like being/have liked being in. Happy :)

Favourite pie:
Heeheehee. This is not fair!

Favourite ice cream flavour:
Coffee. Sometimes a bit of everything else :)

You pass this tag to –

You, you, you and you. And You!!!!

Of all the people you tagged this to, who’s most likely to respond first?

Lets see :) I like not to be presumptuous. Nah. I just hate being wrong ;P

Casino Royale

He sighed. Women were for recreation. On a job they got in the way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried around. One had to look out for them and take care of them. 'Bitch.' said Bond...