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.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
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
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
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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)
-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)
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
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....)
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....)
Sunday, May 4, 2008
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
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
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
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)
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)
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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
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