ZZZ..revisited

Dear Blog

I promise I will be regular again. luv ya :)

After a long day's Moon

Sometimes I get so blurred in the super-blur, that the shape is lost. There is so much I can do with it, but the vastness and the pace chills me out. However, I found an old passion reignited. I am going to develop it further. There was a time when so much thought was distilled into a few petit words. Now, I regurgitate a big fat book a day, but where is the sense? I cannot decipher it myself, let alone them. Missing my books, my diaries, my sketcher,my pastels...every bloody thing. Missing time for myself...Stability is a long way away. Not giving up hope anyway. :)

I know I know

Words are so rare...almost lost in the mist..yes I get to walk through the cloud...the rains are such company...I sing when alone....smiles are abundant...time passes by in a mad rush..yes I have more than enough on my hands....I so want to find my ground....grime..grit...puddles...pebbles...dry leaves...chilly winds...laughter that cuts....silly that I still try to find the old haven all the time...Just did not realise I was living it all along and left it back in a huff. Am I mean? May be...Am I a child?...Can be. dump it dump it dump it dump it. I realsied one more thing...everyone around me ..no matter how different..no matter with what dreams..no matter with what past looks for the same things. We all look for the same things..maybe in the wrong places. Gosh!!what wouldn't I give for a roadmap..Gees.

????????

Beginning the third week now...learnt a lot about changes,loyality,trust..literally.Hmmm....so...dizzy, bone tired,can hardly see clearly, blinded with sleep,but can't sleep...test tomorrow...Thankyou God for this wonderful lesson.Hopefully won't forget ever again. Love you Lavale. :)

P.S homesick for the first time...Waiting for a break.But. whatever.Blah!!

....???

Last day at home...won't be back for a long time, and maybe even after that....Gees!!

Current music: Can't stop giving you up-Kylie Minogue

Phew!!

Okay been long enough. Not that I didn’t realize it. Just that the monsoons have drowned whatever little zest I had. Plus these few days are flowing by just totally out of control. Have I started feeling jittery? Maybe. Change is a difficult matter. Gosh! Something is so pounding hard in my head. Need stability. All I am told is ‘get ready for a rollercoaster ride’.

So…so….uninspired,disinterested,fatigued,irritated,impatient,angry. Where is the control?? When will the sun show up? Totally fucked up,completely messed. Nearly failed. Giving up? Maybe. To all the pseudo-intellectual judgment makers.FUCK YA ALL!!! May we never cross each others’ paths. Is murder a sin? Greater sin than suicide? I need to decide.

Don’t need sweet songs any more. Have had enough. Quite enough!! Wow, since when did I start talking so straight! Just read the old diary to find nothing has changed in the base in the last three years. So why all this fuss, why run around…only to make a full circle? Does life have any meaning? Why am I being set up at this fool’s errand? At the end of the day, nothing changes..the same room, the same bed, the same me, and my shitty world. Not this time. I am not letting myself up for catastrophe. Sensitivity is suchcha, well, suchcha fucking mess. I’m not begging any more. I’m snatching what I need. That’s that.

Did I ever make fun of people neck deep in misery? Sorry. I feel it now.

P.S -I’m not even sure I am putting it up on the blog….whatever my space after all.

The Key

Seven walls, one door
Lost count and the key.
Round and round they all go around,
Are just the same to me.

The soiled floor is one lone joy
For it has shapes n song.
With oats in a boat;or coasts of gold
Or school boys thought at d gong.

Nay, it matters n yes it so does
For flayed,flogged n famished
Hope.To live a day n die d next
In scrunched little light of dope.

Sage please move ahead
They want you there
Where blah bla bla reigns.

I will play with this clay
And make my castle now.
Then the Alexander n I
Will screw d bloody crown

Then you will know,
You’ll buy the tickets to our show.
And do a mighty lot of other stuff.
And For now, leave the what’s n how’s
……………………………
…………………………….
Where the bloody hec is dat darn key!!!

Cameo #2

She sat crouching slightly towards the window, the air felt great. Especially, when she had to breath in the stench of the local train.In between the chaos of hawkers, wailing kids, arguing co-passengers, and the engine, she picked up the familiar vibrations of her mobile.She was glad.Someone had thought of her.Reading the message, a slight smile crossed her face.It somehow formed a protection of a familiar arm around her amidst the compartment full of strangers.She read and re-read the message and finally was forced to put it back.A sigh and a look across the whole crowd.Everyone was busy, either in a slumber, or looking vacant, or looking out.A pair of eyes met her from across her seat.They were of a nine or ten year old.But, they were most unlike the eyes of a child.The look had a gloom, a blurred something that was disturbing to the core.She gazed out of the window.The landscape had been similar throughout...endless fields of paddy, banana, wheat, mudhuts,thatched roofs,cattle and clay, with the dirty factories now and then.The train halted at some non-decripit station.The seat beside her was taken by the mother and the child.He kept looking at her while playing with the pallu of his mother's saree.At length he spoke.


"Do you want popcorn?".

A little taken aback, she replied in the negetive.Returned to the window.

"You know you are unkind."

Someone needed to fix cheeky kids.

"Really?"She said with a well meaning smile.



"You hate everyone here,don't you...you think you are some queen."

"Not really.I am quite ordinary",she said maintaining good humour.

"But, you have a dirty, cruel mouth."

"As you say".Why was the mother sleeping??

"And you have menacing eyes."

"Listen boy I need to rest.So, mind your business."She began gazing out of her window determinedly.What was with children now a days?

He turned away from her.He had left the pallu.Looking ahead he began to whisper.

"I know your secret.You want me to tell them?"

WTF,to put up with demented kids as if the croweded train wasn't enough.She had this impulse to wake his mother and complain.But, it was childish.

"You think you are some James Bond thingy haan?"She didn't expect him to know James Bond.

"I am Joy Bannerjee."Whatever.People had no business producing kids if they didn't know how to bring them up.

"And I do know your secret."

"If you don't stop lisping I'll call your mother now."

"Try doing it."Complacency is something undesirable in children.They should be afraid of authority.

She woke the mother up only to hear.

"Just a child.Let him play.He won't bother you."

"I told you."

"Shut up!"

"You know you need to be punished."

"If you don't stop this nonsense what you'll get is a tight slap."

He looked indifferent and solemn.

"I will marry you one day.Then you will have to stay with me.And Maa can punish you."She didn't know why she should be perturbed by this double faced,sleek-tongued ,whispering,little imp.But,still she was already trying to dial some number to avoid him.

"The next station is where I get down.Should wake her up."He lovingly jerked up the dead-with-sleep lady.

The train halted and mother and son walked out. What a relief!

"I will meet you again.And the next time be nice and say yes to pop corns....coming Maa"

She was left gazing out of the window, watching the two figures descending.

THE S'TRIP

In darkness two figures are seated facing each other on chairs. Their hands are tied in the back. One looks up and one down. Only their silhouettes appear.

Characters:
A(in italics)
B(straight)
Angry(as Ang)
Lost(as L)
Vacant
Clytemnestra
Agnes Green.
1
2
3



Announcement: Agnes Green. From Yale. Contracted two years back. Black. Adult. 167 lbs. suffered from acute thrombosis. Executed.
....................................................................................................................................
(lights on to show the two seated)

You still there?

No.

What?

I am not there.

But, you are.

So why ask?

I am outta work.

I am outta breath.

Hmm. Does that count?

I can’t count.

Why?

You know.

I know.

You do?

Do I?

I can’t think.

Why?

I can’t think.

Why?

I can’t think why I can’t think.

Are you well? You almost made sense.

No.

This is a fine mess.

Right.

Let’s figure.

Go figure.

But, we are on leave.

Won’t be long.

I need my bonus.

Hmm.

Doesn’t matter, right?

No. doesn’t.

Then what does?

Shatter the matter for once, will you?

So you dance away with the manner?

Ha ha ha…that was some fun I had.

I saw you.

Who didn’t?

And I thought you were all for the cause.

Really?

I thought you were the cause, the cause that really mattered.

No. you are it. You are the cause.( And again leave poor matter out.)

Am I ? really? I can’t believe it. I can’t.

Now stuff it.

But, this is great, don’t you think?

I can’t.

(in a vague singsong)I am the cause, I am the cause. Yes, I am.

Enter- Angry and Lost (both cross armed)

Oh you didn’t tell me about guests?

What guests?

Hey buster, who d you think you are?

Ang: I am angry.

I dint ask about health.

What do you need?

Ang:I am looking for the cause.

Really?

Why?

Ang:I want to know why I am what I am.

(casually)And you would be…..?

Ang:(violently)Angry.(shaking) I said I am angry.

Yes.

And who have you got along?

Ang: None. Are you cause?

He is all manners

( looking at Lost)

Hey, why do you hide away?

L: I am lost.

No you are found.

L: But, I am lost. I can’t get out of it.

Which is your way?

L: No way.

Oh, now I was looking for it myself the other day.

L: But nobody has found it.

Found what?

L: No way.

L: He took it and they tell me he went far.

So far so good.

L: What is?

Nothing is.

L: But I am lost.

No you are found.

Ang: Will ya cut the crap. Where is the cause?

(enter Vacant unnoticed by others, he roams around vaguely)

Here is the cause.

Ang: You, are you?

Yes, no and maybe.

Ang: Tell me yes.

No.

Will you?

Maybe.

Ang: Then do.

Yes.

Ang: (grinding his teeth)Finally.

Let’s stick to initially.

Ang: What initially?

Who are you, apart from angry?

Ang: Nothing. Too much of poteen and proverb.

That’s rough.

Plain Irish.

My sympathies.

L: Hey what about me? I am lost.

(under his breath) buying time.

Ang: I have had enough.

What do you want?

Ang:I want the cause.

For what?

Ang: To kill him.

(distracted)Hey you…hey I am talking to you. who is this?

Ang:Broccoli. Wilted Broccoli.

Then I hate him already. gerroff !!

L: Agnes Green prolly.

He is Vacant.(pause) yes, that’s the name.

Hey listen Vacant, sit down somewhere, will you.

(keeps wandering all over)

Strange. Is he on drugs?

I am. He is not.

Oh, now it’s clear. No wonder you made sense more than once.

Yes. Yes.

Enter Clytemnestra

C: (shouting) can you? Can you? Can you? Oh tell me.

Ang: Now who is she?

C: Looking for Messi Mi McAka.

We don’t cover it.

C: But, I was told to check. They told me I will surely find them.

L: Who?

C: Messi Mi McAka(looking around) hey you sonsovabitch come out now!

Ang: Can’t you shut your stinking guts lady?

C:(takes out body spray and sprays for a long time) fine now? You run around, bath in your own salts and get what???

I don’t know.

C: Right.

Can we help?

(surprised)You want to?

C: No, I must find them on my own. Is this 66?

Yes.

C: So they must be here.

Announcement: That’s the next shift Clit. Come an hour later. Now clear off.

C: But, it is time.(sighs) oh ok. I will wait. But, I can’t go back. I signed out for three.

Why don’t you go sit with Vacant?

L: Where are you headed?

C: Oh nowhere.

L: Really? I was hoping someone would give me directions. I’m lost you see.

(C goes there and sits with Vacant, tried to catch his interest)

Ang: You ready?

For?

Ang:I am going to kill you.

You cannot.

Ang:Oh really?

He’s right. Quite a hardy. We actually arranged for men to do that.

Strike three.

Ang:Then it is all wrong. I was told to kill.

C: Isn’t there a laugh?(everyone looks at her except Angry)

V: (shakes his head)

C: well, someone needs to script it then.

C: are you Agnes Green?

V: (shrugs)

(coming back to the discussion)

Who told you?

Ang:She did.

She is mistaken.

L: Hey she gave me the directions. Now we can go.

You found it? Lovely.

Ang: What’s this?

A little help here.

L: Sure. I do weights. You see.(undoes the knot)

Strong girl.

Where are you going?

Nowhere.

Good.

Ang: We all must go there one day.

I worked hard for it.

Plain lucky.

C: none of you actually make any sense.

You are the late entrant. So sit quietly and mark your ground.

Whatever.

Yes.

Now then, I will take leave.

Same here.

Alone?

No Vacant is with me.

Sounds good. Suits you.

(All four Leave)

C: Where did they go?

Ang: Lost-Cause went Nowhere.

Ang: Vacant-Manners went Somewhere.

C: And why are you here?

Ang: I am waiting.

C: For?

Ang: The cause.

C: But he just went, right?

Ang: No, he is still to arrive.

C: No one wants a lost cause, do they?

Ang: No they don’t.

Ang: How long are you here?

C: For some time.

Ang: (simplistically) catch a beer?

C: I thought you were Angry?

Ang: Yes. I am.

C: Let’s go.


1:Agnes Green..? where is Agnes Green? Did you look at 66 carefully?

2:Yes. He is not to be found.

3:He is executed.

2:Oh, yes now I remember.

1:Put it on records, you idiot. You’ll mess it all up.

Rains

The sudden flash drew her near the window. It was raining harder. The thunder claps were like sudden whip lashes. She looked down to find the traffic in a mess in ankle deep Kolkata rain water. Resting her forehead against the cool glass was a relief. She felt feverish. The crowd behind her back was forgotten. She felt nothing for anyone standing there, laughing softly, cracking silly jokes and remarking on each other’s attire. To see them jostling there made her sick, empty and utterly hopeless. Only five minutes ago they had been a part of her life, an all important part. She had alienated herself. It is my problem she tried to convince herself. But, then it had been enough for one evening. She needed to get out of it, to see light, to breath. She moved away a little. Her straps hurt her. She bent down to ease them. The mirror showed most of the party assembled there. He stood there laughing (that he felt was a duty while with ladies) and talking business(money, always money). She looked herself in it. The feeling of shame went deep down to the pit of her stomach. Nothing was worth anything more. Everything amounted to a heap of dirt.The past was humming ever so loudly. She could not take the agitation any longer. She must give it in, someway, somewhere.

Away…away…away from it…from them all. She ran out into the great hall, the bar, another room…lost again. How big is this place?? The chill made her shiver, she wanted someone to guide her, but words were hard to fetch. They were two now, and it was so much more than she could handle. The reception…okay…out of it…once and for all. The day had been so grand and sunny, so cheerful and promising. Now, it was dark and sinister(almost nightfall), thunderclaps and the relentless rain battering. The clock said 4:15.

She ran down the stairway as fast as she could. But bad days have a thing. They don’t leave you till you are no more yourself. Her heels gave way on the last stair. Nothing is sexier than your feet in those heels, unless of course it’s just your feet. She held the banister for support and stepped out. The rain caught her by surprise. It was powerful, hammering her skull. She ran towards the parking lot. Drenched to skin and nowhere to hide. The fever deserted her for the first time. She became aware of the stares. I must look like a mad woman. Shouldn’t have worn this today. Well, how does it matter, anyway.

A voice came pretty weak, due to the downpour. Someone was calling out to her. She didn’t want to know. Run…run…run.

-Hey wait. Hey. Listen to me May. Come back.

-Hey. Hi. Yes. Tell me.

-What is this? Why are you running away? Come under the umbrella.

-Oh, nothing. I mean I just dropped in to say Hi to everyone. I have some shopping on the agenda.

-Yeah, right!

-Right.

-Have you been crying?

-It’s the rains.

-Stop trying to smile so much.

-Okay. What is it?

-Can we talk somewhere else? I mean it is pretty harsh.

-No. I like it. Tell me.

-Don’t make a scene here. Everyone is staring.

-Well, I should leave.

-I know what happened out there.

-So? You know.

-Forget it now.

-That was easy, right?

-Why are you doing this to yourself?

-I am not doing anything. I just need to get away from it all.

-You never give a chance to the right people.

-Maybe.

-When I saw you come in today, I thought you never looked so stunning before.

-Well, I’ll have to run now. I am already late.

-I can’t let you go. It is dark.

-Can you come with me? Now?

-Now? But, they are all waiting for us. Come with me. I’ll drop you when it gets over.

-Forget it. I understand. Leave me alone, please.

She ran away into the jam, dodging the already stuck cars and vans and bikes. For once she did not care what others might think. She did not give a second thought to the looks. It did not even stir the ready hatred. Just a sad, sad indifference to all. A cab nearly struck her. She didn’t react. Only got into it. The cabbie did not ask, just looked. Take me anywhere. He looked puzzled but kept moving. The rain was pelting harder. She cried, cried her heart out, everything, everyone, blurred into insignificance. First times are always trying. So this was life. She was learning.

For Old Times' Sake.

Last night I sang myself to sleep. Doesn't happen often. But, then whatever! I had almost forgotten these melodies. The songs of my school days. Edelweiss...My favourite things....Ribbons of blue....By the river of Babylon...Do Re Me Fa'...Yellow Polka dot bikini...Skip to my Loo...Big rock candy mountain...Blowing in the wind...so so many of them. It really took me back in time....to that languid but spirited life at Wellington(Ooty)...to the drowsy evenings...the fabulous mornings. I realised how much I had left behind, and how much I miss being in the old times. I miss the flowers, the way they looked in the morning, and how happy Mom would look with her darling garden...the dark woods, the secret stream, the panther's cave(not really), the walks, the golf courses, the gymkhana, the little turns and bends to the most awesome sand pits...the way we sometimes found unguarded nests with eggs intact, the hugest trees I ever saw and the oldest too...the old church..the horses...the sheep...the hilly tea plantations...the clouds almost touching you...how I love the old feel of a English summer.The cosy dark rooms with endless stacks of books and my favourite corner digging into disney stuff. How charming it was reading Pocahontas and imagining things. lazy, lazy days. The old piano, and old Sir Michael. Such lovely mornings we had laughing and jumping and making fun of each other. How he strove to teach us some music.



Someday I want to go back and find the same old world (I hope I do), I want to be 14 again and run wild and free and find my way in the Cross hill wood. I want to bath under waterfalls and do the same lyril-girl-act. I found today that I haven't been on swings(jhoola) for as long as I can remember. Gosh I so want to,so want to do it. Also I haven't played those box games, I haven't played langdi taang and Kho-kho.Shucks i really miss being a kid...n just who told I cannot do it again? that I cannot be a kid anymore?

A Page from the Diary

Hey blog…

I am in my rare girlie mood. Which is to say that I feel pleasantly frivolous, vain, bitchy, light and free, marked with a casual disregard for any deep feelings or cares. The deal is finally FINALLY I am going to shop and shop and shop. I am getting real good at blackmailing dad to pay all my bills. Surprisingly (and God knows how/why) he has agreed to my shamelessly obnoxious demands. But, hey like who cares???? I am Happie. (touchwood). I decided I could get a little makeover done as well. Galling? Hehe… this one for you Sona :P

The rains are finally here. But, I am hoping they wouldn’t be a hurdle. If they do then that will make two (considering the Left-opposition bandhs). It has been really long since I bargained. I am out of practice. But, I am sure 5 minutes in Gariahat or New Market can pump me up. What else? the internet is irregular. So, spent my day watching FTV. There was a time I was glued to it all day. Sounds utterly boring. However, I caught a real good design by Burberry. I will ask my tailor to do it. Got a call from a college friend I had nearly forgotten. Talking to her can be one of the toughest tests of ones patience. Trust me she eats your brains, she makes you feel you were born deaf. She can never stop. So once she is on with her harping I keep the phone away for atleast 10 good minutes, and Voila! She is done by the time I check. She thinks she is the bestest know-it-all. I never bothered to correct her, and who knows I might never have succeeded. But for all, she has a heart of gold, a really big, fat, heart of gold (I can be bitchy, quite).

I don’t know why but I have this strange urge to write some more about her. She, along with her sweetheart, was the case (only Bengalis can appreciate the true meaning of this term) of our days at college. They were very public, sometimes (no... all the time) over the top, and thought of themselves as some authority in relationships (coz well they had been together for 6 whole years). For the last I applaud them sincerely. It must have taken guts of steel to tolerate each other. For my part, I somehow always found myself with them. Rather I was a scapegoat, they had to drag around. I tried one excuse after the other. They were hardly listened to. I don’t know why I was chosen. Maybe they thought poor girl with no guy, let’s give her some good time (yuck!!), or maybe they needed me between the two of them to prove their love, or maybe after a time you actually get bored of talking to just one person. That was their date…u, me and hum. It is terrible to be a threesome at times(most times). I had to endure all the whatever!! Anyways, all I know is they gave me a very bad relationship picture sans dignity and a feel good factor. All I prayed for every time we were in a cab was ‘gosh let them not eat at each other, please’. My prayers were rarely answered, even though I threatened them in every way possible. Sighs!! Whatever, by the last year I took it on as an indifferent outing for free food and good music.

Alright now I need to stop it. Something is snapping. Something is flapping around.

P.S -I am SORRY God. I am sorry God. I am sorry God. I am sorry.
What do you know? I am not actually, but need to keep my record clear. :P
And I sincerely hope she never reads it.

Quirkeees 6.0

Beauty-tagged-list-6-quirks-so-here-I-go:
> Did someone say laughter is the best medicine???In my case it is nearly deadly. I get severe fits of laughter, without any help from jokes or jesters.I feel someone tickling, and the more I think the more I laugh. I nearly run breathless and have to beg with this someone to stop before it kills me.Scary trust me!

>Hmmm, I talk to the moon(when there is one) constantly(on the mute) and most of my imagination wakes up during such conversations.

>I need to be in love, whether with someone real or unreal. Mostly , it is the latter.

>While reading, I read what I had read the last day(at least two pages) before resuming it.

>I can spent my whole day without talking, coz I talk non stop in my mind, at the speed of light.

>While walking I think of myself as a certain character(can be anyone) and then I act like them. I end up shocking fellow pedestrians.But, luckily have never been stoned in public.

Okay, initially I was cluless. But, now that I have so many more in mind, there is no more left to mention. Only six.

Okay I tag
Rohit,Sahil,Sidhant,Keshi,Crimsonfeet,Payal

happy Quirkees!! :)

P.S skip spelling errors, drugged wid sleep.

Nugget # 5

Don't consciences have off days?? Would do me good now and then.

zzz

Blank..utterly blank...still wondering what hit me.

zzzzz...

Why bitter words have to stretch between this smile and the next.
Why do I have to tell, when it is and when not.
Why fail to see through me,I am not so difficult.
Why take so long to guess the thinnest strains.
Why say things that aren’t meant.
Why so suddenly it stifles and kills.
What has happened to the day, this and thereafter.
Why do I try so hard to stand up.
And why in God’s name do I write things
That make no sense to you or a stranger.

(written in the summer of 2005)

P.S: Let the grammar & punctuation be. :P

Nugget #4

Agony aunts most commonly become aunts in agony.Gee whizz.

Cameo #1

They sit quietly, each to his own. Her fingers rotating the spoon. His eyes eagerly searching the business updates. The lawn is too green. The sky is too pale. For a moment their eyes meet.

SHE...All I ask for is to be loved. Simply that.
HE....Please don't say a thing. I don't want it to end. Don't ruin it.

His cell phone starts to ring. Thank God for Vodafone. Thank God for technology.

Stories of Ozmania 3

-You took long to open

-I take my time. You know that.

-Hmmm…

-Stuck somewhere?

-Yeah, some soup.

-Chicken soup with sweet baby corns?

-No. I wish it were so. No. Tomato, thick and gooey.

-I like that. And how was laundry today?

-Not of much use. I am quite undone.

-I wish I could help.

-You can’t do me.

-I know.

-I got something though. My lost treasure.

-You found it?

-Yes. I did.

-What about the dinner. I got the grocery.

-Did you? Good.

-Got some of the books I ordered. Wait, I’ll show you.

-No thanks. I will tend to my treasure.

-Yeah, right. You do that..

::In whispers::

-so when does it begin?

-it has already begun. long since.

-hmmm. Alright. Continue.

-Hmmm…

::Loudly::

-You know when I was little, I had them all.

-I know.

-You do?

-You have told me that a dozen times.

-Oh.

-But, then, you have told me other things a dozen times too.

-Right.

-Can we drop it?

-Yes, we can.

-Can we make love now?

-If you want to.

-No I don’t. But let’s.

-Is it on page 12?

-Naah, I think last part of 11.

-Oh, I am giddy.

-Is that related?

-I am asking you, is it?

-Nothing makes me think so.

-Nothing has ever made you think.

-Can we cut it out?

-(Silence)

-You don’t love me. I know that.

-I know you know.

-And?

-Page 11? last part.

-Why do you keep standing? Come on in. Isn’t it chilly outside?

(After an hour, whispering inside the sheets)

-Can she still hear us?

-Couldn’t tell you.

-How much longer do I have to take it?

-We. We have to take it.

-But, when will I be free? I hate this glass house.

-In some time. When she is done with this portion.

-And when does the portion end?

-In some time. Where are we?

-15 I think.

-Ok. It will get over in a few minutes. We end on the 16th.

-Do I continue with it?

-What else, do you have a way out?

-No. I’ll move now.

-Hmm. Go.

I walk away from the old bed, and from the other. There are things waiting. More important things.

I wait for the steps to die. I wait to find myself back. I get back to the book. The white page lies waiting for me. Funny. It makes me glad, one spotless,white paper.

(the last sounds are of a typewriter and of regular thuds on the chopping board)

-By the way honey, can I get a pair of red stilettos ?

**End of Page 16**

-Phew!! Can I go now?

-Me too?

“Mortal as you are, don’t ask, don’t argue, don’t shake that head of yours, don’t think, just close those eyes, and blabber out. Didn’t they tell you so? High time, wake up. (chuckling softly) Life’s such sonny.”


*****************************

(not to be continued)

Nugget #3

I wants to get rid of me. Hope it does so. Can't take the scuffling any more.

Stories of Ozmania 2

Enough! I need some breath now. I move away from the bookshop. I head to the beach. I leave others behind. The roads, the faces, the people, the houses, the shops, THE every reminder of a crumbling septic tank. Yes, I will head there. It is quite breezy. Typical Ozmania evenings. I overcome an impulse to run into the waves. Instead I choose my spot.

Your left in the middle and right all around, twist and slide, mark your ground.

I rest my laundry basket. I sit inside. I feel like closing the eyes. I do so. It is good now. Not to see, but to hear. Not to hear but to feel. Not to feel but to be numb. The breeze slides in. It is here, now it’s there. Aimless winds. It grows stronger. I will let it blow my hair away. I will let it do anything today.

Battered ships can only wait for the next bigger storm.

I am on the old rocking chair. It moves so quietly.

Sleep well sweet love
The angels above
See thou are bless’d
In toil and rest
The hard days gone
For a bright new dawn
With laughter n mirth
And warmth in your hearth
Sleep well for this sorrow
Will not be tomorrow
……………………………
……………………………

The wind is almost violent now. I see a little girl. She looks at me. She says something. Something that the wind takes away. I tell her I can’t hear her. She begins to cry now. I want to help her. But, she is outside the circle. I signal her to come in. She sobs still. Then her voice pierces the chaotic silence.

-‘you seen Mr. Freckles?’

-Mr. Freckles?

-‘Mr. Freckles, Mr. Freckles… round…, blind in one eye, wearing a white dress with brown polka dots. You seen him???’

-Yes, I think I have. He was standing there at the cotton candy shack, talking to some people. Go ask them. They’ll tell you.

-‘you lying. Mr. Freckles don’t speak. He’s my cat’

-You should have told me so beforehand. Now run, find your cat before my dog eats him a-whole.

-‘fuck you liar. You don’t even have a dog.’

Suddenly, I need a ticket to El Dorado. Yes, I must have it now. I will have it. I so want it. El Dorado...El Dorado. I get up and move towards the crowd. Most of them wear masks. But, it is not dark yet? I am pushed around, but I keep my way. The music is competing with the wind to be heard. Where is the ticket counter? It was standing here only yesterday. So much for mobility. Where did they shift it now? I ask one of them. He is a big man with equally big moustache. He giggles and looks shy and says ‘aunt Mephista took it away with her’. I am amazed. I move away. Everything is dazzling, everything is buzzing. There is fire and the crowd is on the waves. It can start any time soon. I must be off before it does.

A slight tinkle and jingle takes my ear. A funny looking man holding a placard. It says.

::What you think is What you’ll get::

I go to him and tell him what I think. He says that my thought is out of stock. ‘Newer supplies awaited tomorrow. Medusa & Co. regret the inconvenience.’


I am almost tempted to launch into a tirade. I march off to my spot. To collect my laundry basket. I look for it there. I can’t find it any more. I think I lost it. Is that my basket?
Oh how dare they? sneaky little pests.

I see some kids kneeling beside it and pouring sand in it. I run towards them. One of the gang senses me and they run away. I stop there and look into my basket. The cloths are all spoiled..sand…shells…oysters…something glittering there…purple feathers…satin ribbons…I pick up my valise and walk away from the beach. The darkness is dawning. I must be back home. It’s time to go back. I hear the waves roar, I hear the music blasting, I hear the crowd cheering, I hear the day end. But, I’ll not look back. Home I must go now.

................................................................................................................................................

(two taps on the door)
I close the book.


(to be continued....)

T.A.G

OK finally tagged thanks to Sid (as I said I am not taking any chances wid my food :P). But, this one is weird and gr8 news it doesnot need u to answer those oft repeated questions.You just need to follow the instructions that follow.

tag 10 person in one post but still there is no actual limit (you can tag more if you want!).Once tagged, you have to copy paste the link in this post, and make them grow!Do not delete any of the links and be honest to yourself!copy paste the link in this post, and make them grow!so here it is...BennyLiew,RamblingMoo, mum and kids in wonderland, Judelittle, our mini blogsphere, rooms in my heart, http://janiceng.blogspot.com/,ChinNee, Jo-N, LadyJava's lounge, strange but true, mariuca's perfume gallery, meet uncle j-uncle j, Farah, aNgRiAniWoRLd, Hows Life About , The Three Hero's, Ceedy, Pri, Sid,http://www.smokingguns-mavron.blogspot.com You Next tag:

Aakash, Sutta,Macdamia,Mayz,Mez,Beauty(BnB),Raingirl,Sahil,Marvin the paranoid android,nirmal,nefariousoutlook...sure that's more than ten!!

P.S I will skip the warning bit... :P

Nugget #2

Don't make them miss you so much that they end up forgetting you.

Stories of Ozmania

Strolling on the promenade of Ozmania this evening I see them with dogs, children, wives, and other stuff by the sea. I am well insulated. I try and run away from this audacious masquerade and from that clown. I want to be at the grocery store soon, I should be at the grocery store. What was it- loaves and loaves of dry bread, oils and spices, treacle tarts, creame. The street of Ozmania is a favourite haunt. Yes, I haunt it when I can. The sky is still making up her mind. Evenings always confuse her. I see a blue-green kite dwindling somewhere near the clout of palms. Strange,who flies a kite here?

I am browsing through the shops on the other side of the pavement. The antiquarian has not opened today I think. I don’t blame him. Business is thin. I wanted a look at some old prints,but, I guess tomorrow will have it. I cannot help but wonder at the fat candy-woman. She looks as ugly as on any other day. She throws a smile at me. I try to return it. I hate her, but why let her know. And maybe, she hates me too. I feel the urge to visit the bookshop. I hope they have the ones I ordered last week. I cross the street and enter the old, smelly shop. The rusty bell croaks a jingle.The endless shelves of books, the faded yellowish peeling paint, the green carpet, and burgundy red furniture (scanty though!) along with the lamps makes this a perfect haven. I love this place. Old man Moreez greets me with the toothless grin. I ignore him. I head to the shelf with the latest additions. Yes, they have two of them. I find a nearest seat and open the first one. I hear you.

You stand there near old Moreez. I look up to see. I look up to see you and I like you. My eyes canvass the tip of the heels of those red stilettos, move on to those alabaster legs,to the skirt that so happily shapes you out. I find I like you and I am afraid. You do not laugh but repeat your words. I reply in a negative. I see your tongue touch your teeth when you say what you say. You are smiling and I am afraid. I am afraid and I am angry. Old Moreez asks you to show me some new ones that might interest me.

You move closer. I do not look, but I can see the way you bend down and browse through the dead old stack with the tip of your finger. It bothers me immensely. You come to me now with half a dozen. I can smell your hair. Your lashes flutter and I see the eyes for the first time. What is that look? Are you throwing a gauntlet? I oscillate between interest and boredom(both feigned). I can’t decide. You smile knowingly and I want to hit you across the face. You blabber about the authors and best-sellers and I try to keep seated. You are seated on the arm. I hate to admit but I like it. I ask if you have read any by the author and you giggle and say you would rather do without authors and what they write. Your brown curls rest on the pages. I admire the shade while I try and read the first words.

I sound so like myself and I bet I look composed. But, I know how hard it is to keep the lines drawn accurately, tougher than managing the mad bull Knell at the Sunday fair. I wish you keep seated where you are and talk and not wait for me to reply.

The bell rings a second time. Some young bucks from the university. I hear old Moreez shout Kaavi , help these gentlemen find what they want. Kaavi…Kaavi …it repeats itself like the sound of a gong. You leap from the seat and run to the new entrants. All smiles and May-I-help-yous. I get up and go out. Wanton slut.
(to be continued)

Lexicon

FADE appear DISSOLVE stay strive sense somnolence fatigue contrived shame fresh solliloquy crammed cuddle caress Anguish Moron Life Fucked Stop Extend Forceps emotions prosthetics drugs detergent Food herFACE fortune fortitude famished folly fake candies flowers candles corny castigate hand head heart collide dawn dark Marx drive forget forgive fish FUN divine prayer wish true eliminate add emerald perception ha-ha vision image irrational idiot hate horrid decide NOW ropes cobwebs dewdrop spiders treacle water never try dream WANT oceans pretend pluck cosy bitch save ugly poison kill WILL level can tangent collateral drive shape

Singaaaaaalong

Almost
(Bowling For Soup)

I almost got drunk at school at 14
Where I almost made out with the homecoming queen
Who almost went on to be miss texas
But lost to a slut with much bigger breastes
I almost dropped out to move to LA
Where I was almost famous for almost a day
And I aaaaalmost had you
But I guess that doesn’t cut it
Aaaaalmost loved you
I almost wished u would’ve loved me too.



I almost held up a grocery store
Where I almost did 5 years and then 7 more
Cuz I almost got popped for a fight with a thug
Cuz he almost made off with a bunch of the drugs
That I almost got hooked on cuz you ran away
And I wish I woulda had the nerve to ask you to stay
And I aaaalmost had you
But I guess that doesn’t cut it
Aaaalmost had you
And I didn’t even know it.



You kept me guessing and now I guess that
I spent my time missing you
I almost wish you would’ve loved me too.



Here I go thinking about all the things I could’ve done
I’m gonna need a forklift cuz all the baggage weighs a ton
I know we’ve had our problems I can’t remember one.



I almost forgot to say something else
And if I can't fit it in I’ll keep it all to myself
I almost wrote a song about you today
But I tore it all open and I threw it away
And I aaalmost had you
But I guess that doesn’t cut it
Aaaalmost had you
And I didn’t even know it



You kept me guessing and now I guess that
I spent my time missing you
And I aaalmost had you.aaaaaalmost had you.
I almost wish you would have loved me too.

Nugget #1

I claw till it wails out.Okay, so you are alive!?!Hello.

Bernalomaniac

Nuthing heavy.It is windy today and the temperature is suddenly a bit low.I am dying to run up and dance on the terrace.But,I 'll wait for it to get a bit dark.Otherwise the neighbours might take offence.Watever...I spent my day reading more about Bernal.C'mon now he is the God!!And I am mad mad mad about him.Infact, I have been trying to find out if 'The Hungry Tide' shooting is over or yet to start.I used my SIMC projects to ask the film directors(which ever I got to meet), if it was done.But, noone knew anything for certain.Most of them hadn't even heard of him.So, I am kinda hoping they are not done yet.Fingers crossed.I so want to see him as Fokir.Somehow it suits him.I read the whole novel picturising him thus.Oh! he would rock for sure.Initially, I couldn't decide who was better...Alejandro Sanz,Takishi Kaneshiro,or Bernal.But, then my good sense prevailed.Bernal any day.One look into those green eyes...the glittering emerald of the oceans....n his smile is to die for....the dracula set is so sexy.Too hot for words....

Just look at the way his eyes smile.



He is OK.I think in a way Shakira makes him look good.









Though he is reminiscent of someone I hate with all my guts,I will not be partial.He is gr8 looking,prolly a little too much.
P.S: Ok this post has caused me a lot of bad mood.Hec..why is it so difficult to fix up pics here??

A Few Good Men(n their films)

Today incidentally, I switched on to the right channel.They were showing a film I would remember for a long time.Summer Interlude by this fellow named Ingmar Bergman.Now,I had no idea if any such man lived, leave alone make some great movies.All I can say is this guy can actually look into peoples' minds and hearts.It had past and present interweaved,love and loss,age and youth, innocence and crude experience.It was a delight.I found simplicity,yet a very very individualistic touch.I remember that scene with that old woman walking,her face like a pale mask,and Maj-Britt Nelson walking behind.How experience draws away any space for feelings,care,and how man dances away like a dead,old,doll.Thankgoodness for Henrik's diary.Each frame is there,just where it should be,hanging there in that vault of time,you go again and again to it,and there it stays put.Silent,but so full.It is brimming with ...what should I call it?...taking help of physics here...a million particles in Brownian motion...you can see the spark(in Marie's eyes,her look), and you feel the energy forever latent in age(that shows itself actively during the summer with Henrik).

I found out that Bergman died just a year back,30th July 2007 to be precise(it was my brother's birthday that day).I can't believe how disappointed I am.Not that I could have met him.Not that unreal.All I mean is, it is scary to know just how many great things I donot know,and how many great people I will not know before they die.I want to watch all his films The Seventh Seal,Smile of a Summer Night,Wild Strawberries,Cries and Whispers,Fanny and Alexander,Through a Glass Darkly,Winter Light,The Silence...these are the best according to Google.

Another film I keep meaning to mention and forget everytime is Mirror Mask.If you are interested in delving deep into the human psyche, and if you dance across the thin line separating real from dream occasionally,then this one might just interest you.This stuff makes you want to become a filmmaker.I can only feel stuff like this,putting it into words and actually making a film is like genius level work.Throughout it makes you feel dude, this how dreams are..they are so sensible when you are dreaming, but once you wake up, they are amazingly strange...and most interesting is that you always know who the people are,only you seldom see their faces.Must watch!!!It is like a well orchestrated opera...where you fight your own self and win your way back home.Everyone searches for the Mirror Mask, only a few find it.

Speaking of the context has anyone seen The Science of Sleep by Michel Gondry(he is yet another genius)?That's another film I have to watch...both due to the story and of course, Gael Garcia Bernal.I guess I am too excited,should calm down.

Grrrrrrrrumpy!!

Omg my head aches so bad.Late nights.Bad moods.Grumpy mornings.Very connected.Bolted out of bed this morning at 6, cos my dear maid is punctual.I slept at 3 last night,so...I looked like such a nightmare,rite out of some horror flick...pale face, dark circles,hair all standing against gravity, and worst of all I couldn't open my left eye.She shoots in and starts pouring out questions...why I didn't open the door sooner,what chai I would have, why I didn' I keep the food in the refrigerator(she could have taken it).All this while I try to pry open my eyes and stand on my feet...and the song Lucy in the sky with Diamonds is pounding on my head.What a way to start your day,sunday that too!

The news sucks...could they stop playing the sobbing Sreesanth,poor guy.Another minor raped,when would they hand out death penalties(I wonder why it still suchcha debate...a rapist can't be mended).Rahul Gandhi has probs wid being called 'yuvraj' n blah blah.So, big deal..would things change if they don't call him that???He is the unofficial watever!I wonder what happened to the nuke deal...n I am sick of following the US primaries.November kab aaega?Kolkata Knight Riders lost!! So you have bad days.But, I am hoping they would recuperate.
Ok some cluttered conversation.Payal, a very very happpppie belated birthday to u.Tried to leave a message on ur meebo.Nahi hua.Sona, I am dying to hear from you.Happy journey.Come online soon!Sorabh(It feels strange to call u this...motu wud do,watsay?),have a luvly time :P.Rickyjee..tussi kab update karogey blog???I m waiting. Pranshu...nuthing, big hug!Adarsh..whr s my gana?Its almost a month yaar!

P.S Last night the moon was reddish and it blinked.One moment it was there and then it vanished.I'll look for it tonight.

Cleaning Out my Closet

Home alone!!Marooned for the weekend.I hope Roadies is good enough tonight.I hope the electricity doesn't ditch.Yesterday, there was a full two hours blackout...from 6 in the evening to 9.30..wait that's more than two hours.I can't get enough of this Jab We Met track Aaogey jab tum saajna,angna phool khilengey...Wat else, I tried to read my books.I am trying real hard to negotiate with myself the interesting aspect of the history of films.So far it is tolerable.



I am already missing my brother.Last night we had a minor skirmish.Something about light and darkness.He spoke of strange stuff while there was no electricity.I didnot understand him at all.All I thought was that he was trying to scare me.So, when the light was back I laughed outright with relief..my soul expanded...freedom from the ninth gate story and terrible murders...n how women will become in the age of mutants...how everyone is a self,an island and have to find their own place...koi kisi ka nahi hota and all that.He did not like it,prolly because my laugh was like a treason to his heart's secrets.But, all I wanted to do was tell myself I wasn't scared.Watever!!

I am hungry,but I don't feel like getting up.Lazybones.I am wondering how I would spend the nights.Again I will have to cover myself up in this heat.Late night monsters exist.Or else I will have to sing to myself all through.I hope no thieves plan a raid.Last week we had twin burglary in our colony.Keeping my fingers crossed.Though I kept my emergency stuff, I know when time came I couldn't hurt a child.

Now Sona is also not online...who will I talk to????Why do people have to have visit relatives, perpare for exams, or work when I have nuthing to do, but wait all alone in darkness?Wow if SG heard this, she would pout and say, Maria that is what I call a rhetorical question.Enough rambling. barsega sawan,barsega sawan jhoom jhoom ke,do dil aise milengey.



P.S I know I am turning mad...staying on my own does dat to me.

hmmm...

Love you Maa, miss you at times.

Mirror on the Wall

I don't know what to write...I had something in my mind though, only it is very liquid.I wanted to talk about time and age and change and the other variants.



I remember the only holidays I ever had as a child and also until a few years back were yearly visits to my granny's place.There was so much excitement packed in the journey(always by train) and the anticipation. My heart used to dance like mad when the station finally came and we were on our way to that home of my childhood.The first thing I would hear is aar koto lomba hobi re tui?? (how much more tall do u want to be).Nothing compared to that somehow.Just a few weeks, but those were the times to catch up with what was amiss, have fun, n feasts,share secrets with friends I met only once a year,and make promises for the next.Some year I would have cropped hair and then in the next I would surprise them all with a pony."What would Dida say?What would bhalo say?What would choti say when she sees me?"We arranged for skits to be a part of the evening programme organised especially by the kids.



And then time changed and I changed groups.I didnot find childish games any more fun.If my little cousins found that strange they didnot tell me so.Now I would stick to the Bodo der dol (the group of elders).Our topics changed too.No more what to play this afternoon,or plan how to sneak out to buy some candies while the elders rested.It was more about things like careers, studies,marriages,relatives,duties,problems etc..etc...I remember as a kid I hated the times mom would say Ja khelte jaa..ekhon bodo ra kotha bolbe (go and play, the elders will talk now).I so wanted to know what they discussed.Many a times I tried to eavesdrop too.But, never succeeded.Now, I wish they would tell me the same thing...how I would love to play and not pay heed to care and morose issues.



I found my favourite place in front of the mirror.I would talk to myself and laugh and even cry looking at myself all the time.I donot particularly miss school.It didnot mean much to me.But, it did teach me a lot about survival.I had a constant feeling that everyone was looking at me and I would not dare to look up.I would do my homework and they would take my note and copy it ..d whole class....and what would I do?Nothing.I didnot dare,I never did.Everyday was suchcha battle.What a jassi I was.



Mirrors kept changing and so did I.I donot recognise the girl in the class photographs,timid,skinny ,trying to hide behind the next.There were so many things I wanted to be that time,but never could be.Now,that I have become all those things I crave a bit of that old Jassi...but I know she is lost forever.



I do not carry any regrets...only I wish I had not met a few people...only wish I did not have to change.

P.S:How I do run on....lol!!

Chunks!!

Days are like blanks merging into one another till I cannot recollect the point where one ended and another began.I just read one of my favourite blogs....and I so love every word of it.It is so true and unpretentious and seems to show me a mirror each time.Somewhere I just found that I had stopped writing for myself, or what I actually had to say, and was investing my energies for some invisible reader.Happens with me.I confess I am more like the straw than the wave.

Strange but today my brother told me something that was pent up for some time.I know if I had been the sole observer I would have neglected this as a petty piece of dejection.But, I found out that I am possessive and how??!!I remember during my college days I had different groups and I didnot like any one getting to know the other.I surely loved them all and prolly equally too.But, somehow I stood up against the one that tried to encroach on the no mans land.Now if I had heard something like this about a someone else, I would have had a good many things to say.Childish...pooh...as if...they are her property..trying to hold back n all...many things I know.

But, what did I have to say to myself???Nothing!My first reaction was an utter bewilder!!Wat d...C'mon...not me...possessive,am I?My dear old selfish soul could not form any supporting arguements, nor any concluding remarks.I was at a lack for words.Sure the only reason I don't visit peoples' scrapbooks is that I don't want to find out that my friend is my other friend's friend.Crap...I really have no idea why I am doing this to myself.

So I asked my brother if I had improved or showed any scope for the same.He just smiled and said that we all have our ailments, and we must not let them spread out so much that it overtakes life.He gave me some related cures...which I am trying to apply.Gosh ...when will I have the satisfaction of being me,just me??

One Among So many

It is like a badly tuned film strip, disconnected in manners:connected in only one manner-it bears my fears.The sound varies ...night plays in morning and summers are dreary winters.I go on wobbling through a quicksand of faces,times, and situations, and everytime it wants to suck me in it....and probably put that final punctuation mark.I choke and fall, stand up and want to move again, but I am transfixed...something guides me to the a trecherous finality of things.I look around, can't,somehow my joints aren't working.A whirlpool follows it...and I see myself giving up...letting my one little wish yield to fate.Suddenly my eyes clear and I see a slit in the filmstrip.Through it I dive and I am removed from the vague singsong.It is silence I hear.But, then why can't my mind rest.Certainly it cannot be that easy.Something more ought to come.

It is waves that wash my feet.It feels so gentle,it tickles a bit.I want to see the sky...look up and find that waves adorn the sky.I ask something I cannot recollect.The racket was enormous.The waves reply something I cannot recollect.A surety begins to dawn.I was right, not so soon,something more.They are higher now, I can almost smell them....In my heart I say, I have seen enough of it, something new...and there I am saved from water....castigated with deserts.

Throughout I crave for a bit of reality, something tells me it is not real...all of it...and I know survival rests on reality...I blabber survival of the fittest...It pounded on my ears...till I could scream above the dry winds.

Twin seconds of conciousness, I find a comfort...it wasn't real...bloody dream...could have killed me tonight.The next second let's me know what woke me up.Just a name, and the lone plank on the wild waters, the lone breeze of spring in a century old sandstorm,the lone stir in a body six feet under humanity, the lone face of faith in a crowd.I blessed it...and went back to fight another war.

...Vs....

Structure...structure....structure....structure...clumsy structure...madness...leave them alone. They feel claustrophobic. If you're still interested in the cold blooded execution, I'm not with you. I cannot be a mercenary any more. I am releaseing them out.Yes, they go out and breath and see the sun and be alive...Nothing like you and me. I'll spill them out...one by one and then you'll know who I am and you will leave me.Good heavens.It's blasting now.I can feel my ear drums soaked in it...i am taking it in...n will it make you happy if I was different?LOL...high hopes.

...........................................................................................................................................................................

Hold on to it...it is solid...it is concrete...it is real...it is alive...I am sure now it is.Running after shapes and shadows day after day..day in and day out...now where will I find anything more...the sun doesn't shine...the light doesnot come.Hold on to it.30 seconds more before you go.Abstractions kill, thoughts kill,donot be left behind in this maze of endless smoke...this deluge of nothing....this cradle of insanity.Sustain and survive...live on...what did you say?

Scribbling Some Stray Thoughts II

....everything you want to say has already been spoken, there is no novelty and less charm...I stuttered at the prospect of unwarranted verbal plagiarism and of being artificial. Which one was worse I couldn't decide. But, I still meant what I wanted to say. So much for exclusivity!


You are more like your father than I'd like you to be. Yes, we both hate him, I know, and that is why it would shock you to know this.You are equally moody, you choose to speak when you like it and when you don't, my words are lost on you,just like the droning of the bees and the buzzing of the flies would.You gaze at your tea with that determined indifference and a line of contempt at my voice.Tell you what...I am sick of trying to make up conversation and I am even more sick of this deadly silence.You hate me for my zeal for things that according to you are frivolous and useless.Your look leaves me feeling foolish and clownish.Could you spare me one day to feel good about myself and be happy about what makes me happy?


Dichotomy...dissecting it throughout...but it is dull...somewhere the interest ebbs...Is there an end to this seemingly endless wave of Hims and Hers.What is beyond this...something must be.Let's just leave it all here and set out to find that...I am not afraid if it is hideous or frightening,but something new I must have.


Nights are treacherous. One hand on that weak shoulder and I babble out my pains, my weakness. Oh, how I hate myself for it when there is light the next day.Keep falling and then rise again..in your own eyes.But,everytime the standard keeps getting lower and lower.


Children are the cruelest things God made.They carry sharp sabers hidden behind that garb of innocence and curiosity.


I can hear him talk to the maid about something.He repeatedly says "Is he altered?Is he good?"And I pity his knowledge of people and life.People donot change overnight and what is goodness?For him goodness would be limited to being religious and devout ;and being bad the exact opposite of it.What a shame 55 odd years could not make him understand things.He will get hurt and amaze at it."Oh,how could they?Aren't they afraid of God?"Jesus Christ!! He would breath his last between the covers of a book and never meet reality in the eye.Perhaps that is why he hates me so.I am hard and ruthless and donot expect goodness even from God.


In one rapid movement my hand sweeps the air trying to swish away that irritating fly.The book closes.Shit,I lost the page I was on.


Morning,breakfast,you and me.You gaze at me, it drills me and I am mad at you.Your gaze makes me feel insulted.Was that what you meant?You want me to question you and ask if anything was wrong.But, I am in no mood to placate you and your damned ego.I just keep looking at my plate and a smile creeps into my face.I smile all the time.I donot remember when was the first time I found it out.It was my weapon,just as yours was that gaze, piercing, questioning.I smile and pretend and pick up the gauntlet you throw.Still, I hate myself for such a cowardice. Why can't I just look squarely into your eyes and ask what the deal was without blushing.Perhaps,I want to avoid that look of victory in your face.You torment me,immensely and I might let you know that someday.But, not today.Till then I'll smile and pretend.


I get up more tired than I go to bed.It is terrible.My body aches all day long and I constantly feel the need for something.Only I don't know what.


You at the other end of the table, smile so beatifically. Jovial this morning, I see.Suddenly, my eyes are big and placid.Suddenly, I am beautiful.What the hec!!You are generous and take up the task of arranging the food.You ask me if I need another helping(which I didnot) and without waiting for my reply you stack some more unwanted food on my plate.I feel like smashing the platter against your face.All I do is thank you and work at my plate.Forcing down the tasteless mess I wonder why in the world am I stuck with you.I donot mean another person.I mean why can't I be on my own?Alone?Probably because I can tolerate you more than I can tolerate myself.I imagine a mirror half way across the table.The very thought of being with myself is unthinkable.I am almost scared of seeing myself on the other side of the table.You are asking me if the food is good(since you made it).I smile and say 'yes' and thank God for you are there.


I was born in a mad house and I will die in one.The more I think the more I believe it.Period.

A different Blah Blah!!

Little whims of passion
Sweep over me
When you stand over the faucet
And regard me in that mirror
Little whims of passion
Sweep all over me

Such whims that carry me far
If for that fleeting look
To that hidden sea
And I freeze and drown
In the blessed numbness

Then,
Little whims of passion
Make me alive
Through dead nights of
Creaking beds, groaning appetites
And I resurrect from the imbecile
I sometimes become.

Little whims of passion
Between the clutter of crockery
When you cut and carve
With such resigned love
Make me blind
To them morsels.

Little whims of passion
When your eyes shine
And mine
Dimples to crown
All self-centered frowns
Stately affair, staged or otherwise.

Little whims of passion
Cram it, jam it, stuff it
All that is me and mine
I’m soluble and it becomes
You.
That is love(they tell me)
When it's true.

Random Cliches

It is the last day of March(almost) and for the first time I can sense a distinct spring in the air. It is oh so cool, this morning breeze, so refreshing and subtle(sure is a break from the untimely,ruthless Indian summer).I bunked my morning routine and spent some extra hours under my blanket(yup,I actually needed a blanket).The early morning sun rays are so golden, it seems almost magical.And I take my own sweet time to linger on the terrace and drink in this sweet exotica. The trees are swaying and I can hear the birds all clamouring in raptures.Everything is in motion...This is life I say.But, at that precise moment I hear a most hideous rattling and drilling noise.The area around my place is under construction and everyday for at least ten hours we are subjected to this pandemonium of drills and trucks and loading and unloading...thrash...crash...and so much more.

When was the last time I had relished a day without frowning and muttering curses under my breath at the most shameless breach of my privacy?I cannot remember.There is no rest and no peace and consequently a lot of bad mood when the blast next door is hammering incessantly(as it does everyday).You cannot read a book peacefully, or watch T.V, or even talk like sane people.Simplest joys are so rare.

Yesterday was Earth Day and the one hour global switch off.But, where I stay blackouts are an everyday affair.As summers come lashing out, power cuts become more and more frequent.I wasn't even allowed the satisfaction of being a part of the Day.Lite itti baar aati jaaati rahi ki there I was in no mood to add any more to it.

Some days back I learnt that the thickest, oldest and toughest sea ice around the North Pole is melting,which is a bad sign for the future of the Arctic ice cap(courtesy, NASA satellite data).Also,Some 2.5 million sq km of perennial ice have been lost -- about one and a half times the area of Alaska -- a 50 percent decrease between February 2007 and February 2008.Almost 75% of it lost.The offender is of course human induced climate change.This is horrifying because this ice cap is known to be as tough as nails...so hard and concrete and of course old.If this is melting then we can estimate the extent of damage done.More is on its way.Looking down south the Antarctica is not far in the score.Recently a US satellite noticed the 400 square KM Wilkins ice shelf collapsing.

Now a days the issue of global warming is being used ad nauseam and has acquired the cliched proportion of World Peace.But, all of it is being lost on the majority. Actually, unless something is thrust under our noses we fail to see it. An average citizen does not give a damn to what ice caps are and why they are such a big deal.I remember when I was in my college hostel(a government establishment) the fans and lights were working round the clock whether there was anyone in the rooms or not.Since there was no hassles with electricity bills energy was used and mostly abused.Sometimes the taps could be heard running wild early in the morning with no one using them.I confess I too was lazy enough not to mind the taps.But, the point is we do not care for what is staring in our faces... unless it is in the form of a Doomsday series of National Geographic or An Inconvenient Truth.Even then we push it at the back of our heads as just a happening bit of info...and make way for the more immediate concerns of life. C’mon now people, life is a concern in itself.We can fight among ourselves for stupid and not-so-stupid things...but once home is lost there would be nothing more to fight for.

For once think of those days of careless childhood...of that life...the rains...the winds...and the sun.It is worth fighting for.Only this time the adversary is within us.Check on the energy consumption and take care not to waste more than you use.And for heavens!!don't tell yourself that I-don't-care crap.

P.S#1:Enuf moralising...but seriously this is important.Give it more than just a thought!!

P.S#2:Since I sat down to write this...the day changed to cloudy...it rained for a few seconds...and now it is sunny again :) :)

So Much for Love

As I promised myself the last time, I'll tackle love.Now, love is a quaint business.I many a times flattered myself with the cliched soft sensation and all the rest.But, sometime or the other the bubble burst and I was out in the open with nothing as I wished it to be.Nah,never in love.I spend my days listening to the cute tales of my friends' love lives, browsing through their pictures(feeling their happiness),reading Jane Austen,dreaming a lot more than I ought to do and getting a lot fatter than I would like to admit.But there is a lovely thing about dreaming(when you can afford to do it),dreaming about good times and things to come.I watch fruitless romances with baited breath and a gallon of tears(of joy) to accompany in the end.I sigh and gasp and smile and dance(sometimes)when they meet each other in the end.I like to think that I am in love too!!with this ..what should I call it??...this vision.That is how I like it.

I think love is too delicate a sentiment to come out of an old book, or a good painting, or an Austen romance, and merry songs and actually thrive in the real world.Go on eat off my head all you people "violently" in love.But, somethings are just too good to be true.It is a muse to the artist: love can actually make you happy,very happy.But that is as long as you keep it to yourself;the minute a someone enters, the magic is gone,the charm vanishes and many things much less divine try to substitute.Now, will that keep love ,love?There is this poem, one of my favourites by a certain someone we were taught to like in our graduation classes.It goes something like this:

I WHISPERED, "I am too young,"
And then, "I am old enough;"
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.

"Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair."
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love.

Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

Now, it doesnot really matter if you have heard of a mad fellow Yeats and Maud Gonne or not,also it doesnot matter whether we have been in love or not...we can all understand the feelings of this frustrated, failed, crossed lover.It is universal ,though not real for everyone.For me love feeds on the ideal.That is how I'll let it be: a quaint, framed picture on my bedside desk, that I love to look at now and then.

P.S:????

Sunday Musinggs...

Lazy Sunday...yawn..yawn.All I am doing is humming this quaint oldie Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo.The melody is heady and Farida something (beginning with K), has suchha ethereal voice...It takes me high, to a different world of probably love(?).That's all..I am not wasting my Sunday trying to understand love n all...Will try some other time...something for the next post..So hum along:
Aaj Jaane Ki Zidd Na Karo
Yu Hi Pahalu Mein Baithe Raho
Haye Mar Jayenge
Hum To Loot Jayenge
Aisi Batein Kiya Na Karo

Tum Hi Socho Zara
Kyu Na Roke Tumhein
Jaan Jati Hai
Jab Uthake Jaate Ho Tum
Tum Ko Apani Qasam Jaan-e-Jaan
Bat Itani Meri Maan Lo
Waqt Ki Qaid Mein Zindagi Hai Magar
Chand Ghadiya Yahi Hain Jo Aazad Hai
In Ko Kho Kar Abhi Jaan-e-Jaan
Umr Bhar Na Tarasate Raho

Kitana Maasum-O-Rangin Hai Ye Sama
Husn Aur Ishq Ki Aaj Meraj Hai
Kal Ki Kis Ko Khabar Jaan-eE-Jaan
Rok Lo Aaj Ki Raat Ko

A Distant Memory...

As kids we all have our own lot of bhoot-pret anecdotes, thanks to the earnest enthusiasm of our Grannies and Great Grannies...and they indeed are a success at continuing the legacy of the supernatural.While this creates a base in our unripe minds of a dark and sinister world that cannot be helped or handled, and may end up creating foolish ninnies out of us who shake at the trivialest noise..I am not going to pass a judgement on them.These certainly create a action packed childhood.The story I am going to recount is of nobody's doing but my own mind's.

Dad, being in the Indian Army had to keep moving from one place to other: and without doubt our family followed suit.That's how I got to see a lot of different places and found myself in a new and strange school every two years.This was at the time when I was a student of class 1...way back in 1992(?).In a place called Bareily(UP), we were posted.The school there was a quaint red brick building.There was a senior part of the school(called 'bada school') and ours was the primary part (called 'chota school').There was a drain(nala) with a rickty plank that served as a bridge(atleast that is what we used to call it).Now when I think about it, it was just a laughing matter. But, for me as a small child my entire attention was rivetted to the time when I was to cross that precarious bridge again.I was sure it will be the end of me one day.It was constantly creaking under the rapid pressure of a rowdy bunch of students trying to overrun each other at chutti time.Once when I somehow managed to find myself in the middle of such a surmounting confusion on that plank, I thought my end was near...my face was wet with tears and I was wailing.But, as fate would have it, I was rescued.The incident kept me shaken for the rest of my days in that school and I always left school in the very end.Now, reader this was just a digression beofre I launched into the real tale.

My classroom was more dark than I can remember.The walls were cold and moist and very rough.I have no memory of my classmates save that I know they were a bunch of snooty girls and indifferent boys.I never managed to fit in with them.There was ,however, an exception.I had two friends,two boys. I cannot recall their names.We were forever getting out of class and roaming about, running through the building and discovering new places-the scarier the better.There was a room with the heighest ceiling ever.It was a store room with glass doors, and the furniture inside was broken piled one top of other till one could hardly see the ceiling.A lone ray of sunlight had somehow found its way in that room, and there was a dazzling halo coming from behind the wasted pile.It was magical, and the three had always loitered around the room, never daring to stand near the door(you see, the door could suck you in). The room was particularly interesting because there were the remains of crows n other bones and a pigeon nest.

My friends told me that many a students had been murdered in that chamber.It was a punishment room, in which you were locked for the night, and in the morning only the body remained. The same happened to the crows and other animals.Whosoever entered, never returned.It chilled me to my bones.One of them even managed to impress upon me that the furniture pile resembles a demon with many hands.It came alive at night.The only way to keep it from killing us was to feed it with fruits.Since that day the precious contents of my lunch went to that damned door.We even picked up berries(shatoot) and deposited it at the door to quench the demon's fury.Then we felt the wall on either side of the door and shook our heads at each other...'it was eating'.

One day miraculously the door opened.Probably some cleaning business.But, to us the demon was out.Whenever someone whispered I thought it was about the only thing I could think of.My friends suggested that one of us should go in and try to tell the demon not to harm us.But, none of us could muster up such courage.It was then that one of them made the rule that all of us have to do either of the two.Go to the demon, or go in the toilet.Now, I have comfortably forgotten to recount the terror of the toilet.It was the darkest place on earth and emitted the strangest sounds.No one in the right frame of mind would attempt to go there.We had seen some bigger students go in and come out in one piece.But then it was well known that whatever was inside harmed only the small children.

So that was that.A choice had to be made.We unanimously selected the toilet.Something that we still hadn't seen was preferred to the immediate dilemma facing us.It was break time.We held each others hands and looked self-important as well as scared to shit.Step by step, heart to heart ,left right left we all walk down, like scared 5 yr olds.Once inside the huge room, we could not see a thing..it was pitch dark.This is an extreamly unpleasant feeling...as you were groping in the darkness for something solid...and there are a thousand things out there to get you, maybe just behind you, or on your left or your right..and gosh! you couldnot see them.I could hear the shallow breathing...who was it???coz I know none of us had air left in our lungs.Still I had to keep my curiosity to myself as I didnot dare to make a sound.Suddenly, I was all alone...we had left each others' hand.Gradually my sight seemed to return and what I saw did not make me any happier.The compartmentalised toilet rooms were vacant...nothing human or otherwise...With a lot of courage I look above.I shouldn't have.

The ceiling was higher than anything known to me...like a huge dark sky coming down on me...the cobwebs halfway down were gloomy...sunlight came weakly through the dust encrusted(probabaly a century worth of dust) window panes.The air hung solid and there was a sickly greenish feel everywhere.As I gazed ahead I saw a half wall at a great distance and something was peering at me.It was a long face very long and strange...with big eyes and no nose and huge teeth.It had horns and was looking at me steadily.There was sounds of shuffling and the strangest possible noise.I was fixed and rooted...the gaze of the monster intensified and I felt as though it was nearing...that face.The taps were gurgling and sudden jerky noises of blocked water made me jump everytime.I could not speak and thought that I had lost speech.All I could hear was a swish..faint at first and then quite vigourous.Everything was turning white, strange white, I felt like my feet were liquid and I was falling down.There was no room left for thoughts now.

When I opened my eyes next, both my friends were looking at me and there was the groundsman.It would not have been very long.But, my nerves seemed to be shaken pretty badly.My friends were smiling and said we had successfully killed the demon and pointed somewhere.I found that the doors of the store room were open..n all the furniture was lying out in the verandah.I was too weak to respond.The groundsman was trying to make me drink some water, and seemed highly irritated that we were consuming his time unnecessarily.I stood up with some effort.It was already post break.So I joined the class.After the school got over I hurried back without stopping to talk to the two of them.Actually. I never ever spoke to them again...and if they tried to talk I ran away.

P.S:Later I found out that there was a stable on the other half of the primary toilet and horses were kept.Now, that didnot alleviate my fears.

One Of tHOsE ThinGGs..

Weekend...weekend, yet another two-days of freedom.Even though weekend holidays donot matter right now-to me:coz I'm freeee and to my brother:coz exam time.After a week even he would be entitled to have the leisure that I(suffer)have.Yet, both of us agree that there's something magical about a Saturday and Sunday.School days are a thing of past, and school discipline, homework and the blessed weekend too seem too faraway.Still, I guess that special something about weekends has grown in all of us...and it is there to stay.

I am missing my friends.Hostel life would always remain special because of those chosen few.How much fun it was, days to throw back our heads and laugh...pulling each other out of the beds...missing the breakfast almost religiously...planning shopping sprees...borrowing makeup;accessories;and clothes...ordering food nearly everyday n fighting over the bits...stealing biscuits n ghar ka ghana(oh the precious lil potlies)...waking up till wee hours n treating ourselves to a must-have midnight snack...dividing work...bunking class...PNPC...affairs...career crisis...talking non-stop against the countless injustices of hostel life...playing stupid games of "good points-bad points"...having little fights n sending sms-apologies(as d doors were closed)...d funny cat-fights(just bcoz Godu n sona wud get bored)...trying in vain to surpirise d Bday girl(a common conspiracy,but much too sweet)...running around for medicines in case one of us was ill...d constant promise to start studies "tomorrow"(alas it never came :P).Gosh, how I miss those days of weird hair colours, equally weird Tees n shoes.We were forever looking forward and wondering how it would be by this time the next year.We parted ways with the promise to meet again...only wish it materialises(fingers crossed).Here's hoping for all of us that fun times may never end; with hugs n laughs n a few good friends.

P.S:love u sonu,ani,godu,mulo,montu,psycho...life wud be a punishment widout u guys!!

The hardest part of doing Absolutely Completely Damnably nUthiNgg!!

Somebody, I am not sure who(but somebody must have) said : A man without a motive is like a ship without a radar. While I solemnly swear I have a motive(and a pretty good one at that), I confess that for the past sometime I have been exceptionally jobless, indolent, and with no interest whatsoever to change my condition.Surprisingly, it is not sleeping till noon, that occupies me.No, not that.I generally get up at 5 in the morning and prepare myself for a day of work, good and meaningful.So, I begin with a walk across half the town,while the handful of early risers(vegetable vendors,ricksawwalas,chaiwalas groping in the last darkness)stare with natural curiosity and, I bet, some contempt.Amidst all I carry myself, huffing and puffing and working really hard to convince myself of the worth of such a task.

But with the rising sun, my hope drowns.On the right side of my bed half a dozen books stand piled.These are the ones I already completed(also,undoubtedly my favourites).Looking at these gives me a silent satisfaction as well as a revolting shouting craving for something more.I fervently wish that I had not finished these, so that I still would have the pleasure to have them as potential readables.I am through with books.Enough.

Then I take resort to my laptop, and if God is good and the modem responds I get the opportunity to find myself online.Great, online...now whatt??!!??check the scrapbook.Next 15 mins invested there.Bored.Next??check mail...hardly 5mins.Then??Wikipedia...searching for an array of stuff from the grail...to head of the states...to the origin of my name...to Clark Gable...to gone with the wind...to bermuda triangle...to blackholes.half way through I lose interest and the other half way my internet connection loses it.That'll do.

Television sucks bigg time. Newschannels go on with the same stuff again and again and again ad nauseam.But poor things, now they cannot make new stuff for me every second.Abandoned.An occasional classic on some channel keeps me hooked on for some blessed hours.Music channels I avoid with all my might.The same crap over and over again.Can't they play some oldies, and semi-oldies??

Lately, I have taken recourse to cooking.Every weekend I cook something special for my brother.Last week, it was Aloo Tikki.The rest of the week I try to plan and learn some new stuff and bug Dad to get the necessary ingredients.But, Dad eventually ends up doing more that what is required of him.He would constantly poke his nose and try to help and tell me an unendurable thousand times that I cannot handle pots and pans, and cooking is not my game(which I conclude is an obnoxious lie or unpardonable ignorance on his part).We constantly fight during the preparations and I can hardly remember a time when the serving was done with the both of us in good humour.My brother says, all this has a negetive impact on the food.So, I have learnt to cautiously ignore Dad's intrusions.This week I plan bread rolls.Let's see. Will definitely report it.

However, overall I cannot find anything worthwhile to do.With my brother locked in his room with books(boards u see),I have nothing to do but daydream.A jolly bad idea, I say.Once I tried pulling out my hair out of utter boredom.But, with so much iron in the water here wreaking havok on my hair I could not but be merciful to the lot.So,here I am putting down all that pent up crap in my blog.Convenient, must say.

The most beauitful song ever...

LEAVING ON A JET PLANE
by Chantal Kreviazuk

All my bags are packed
I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside the door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye.
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn'
The Taxi's waitin' he's blown his horn.
Already I'm so lonesome I could die.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you never let me go.

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again.
Oh babe, I hate to go.

There's 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.
Ev'ry place I go I think of you
Ev'ry song I sing I sing for you.
When I come back I'll bring your wedding ring.
So kiss me and smile for me,
Tell me that you'll wait for me,
Hold me like you never let me go.

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane,
Don't know when I'll be back again.
Oh babe, I hate to go

Now the time has come to leave you,
One more time let me kiss you,
Then close your eyes, I'll be on my way.
Dream about the days to come,
When I won't have to leave alone,
About the times I won't have to say
So kiss me and smile for me,
Tell me that you'll wait for me,
Hold me like you never let me go.

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane,
Don't know when I'll be back again.
Oh babe, I hate to go

Diary of Jane

Now that I have been listening to it for almost a day, I am in love with this song. The video too is good enough, though we have had a lot of this kind..I mean the semi-gothic lot...dark,enticing,withered flowers, wilted paper and nature in sinister somnolence...n d Jane is definitely uncommonly common to look at(and pretty pale too).But, overall it is tolerably OK.

so hum along..as I try to find my place in the diary of Jane...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=iTafQnXY5vY

Wildflower

for my dear child Ann

lil brunnete...child of the wild winds n cold rains..but she is soothing to one that needs her. Sleeping in oblivious calm she is in her native land :a strange land of overwhelming paradoxes..of stark white and blatant black. There she is among her playmates...whirling around in splendid circles that blaze and scare, and touch and move.She laughes, and I am glad she does so. Does it frighten you, you bony man, you old fossil?To me it is a spark of joy, of wanton playfulness, of terrible power, of burning magic, of covetous dreams, of wildflowers, of bounding leaps...

Vigourous and vindictive, but not vapid. Her eyes spell out quaint queries, and man might shamefacedly stare or stoop to it all. None is answerable. So true. On a bitter winter evening, sitting lonely on a cold couch she looks out to see the multitude of nothingness, of waste and silent clamour. She sings old songs of lost alleys, long forsaken by her fellows. She counts the taps of the nude tree branch against her window pane and thinks of what others are doing right at that moment in their homes, neighbourhoods,lanes and countries. I leave her there among the silence of a dying day to ponder and argue and laugh and talk. But I do not leave empty handed, I have a little light that I borrowed from her...little but enough for me. Her gurgling laughter and evocative silence let's my soul expand and breath.

The last I see her in absolute whiteness...dancing in the garden daisies...her little fingers played with the air and an invisible tune found its way to the denizens of her world, of which I had lately become a part. It was the laughter of some ethereal creation of God. I know not what pleasures lay in that mid-summer morning, among few swaying daisies and honey-drunken butterflies. She seemed to be in a trance..she swirled in grace...the aura caught her. I danced too. Her frenzy was contagious...End the scene with light hearted mirth and such soluble sentiments.

Even today, that aura is inviting, the music is flowing, and the dance is being danced...but it is out of focus for me...Ann has moved away, she has moved ahead... giving all she has to a someone different...ages part us. Still, to me she is that child of dreams, almost unreal...she is the sky and she is the abyss, she is the song and she is the singer, she is the lyre and she is the music...she is storm and she is tranquility. My little doll of binaries. She stands forever between me and time...the world is behind me, and God behind her.