Wednesday, April 30, 2008

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.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Nugget #1

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

Monday, April 28, 2008

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??

Sunday, April 27, 2008

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.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

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.

Friday, April 25, 2008

hmmm...

Love you Maa, miss you at times.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

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!!

Monday, April 21, 2008

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??

Sunday, April 20, 2008

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.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

...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?

Sunday, April 6, 2008

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.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

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.