Now Or Never...

Even if the house at the end of the road is beautiful...I don't want it...if the road that took me there hurt me, I don't want to live there...

Madness...

*28 approaching soon. "What kind of woman do you want to be?", a question that has been on my mind for some time. Jittery.

 *For the first time in my life I am actually overweight. Super sad.

* Some people, some friends are indeed for life. I am so glad you're still here, somewhere, even if not fully there.

* Surprised how some memories are still so shockingly alive.

* I don't have much to say actually, but after a long time, I just felt like coming in here, sit in these warm, musty rooms with these old familiar walls, feel the rounded corners, run my hand over the dusty furniture. Let words drown everything. Maybe, just a place where I could feel warm and familiar today.

* The girl with rainbow of emotions.

 

Deep Dish...

I am busy trying to get that damned mojo back. In the mean time, take a gander at the archives if you miss me :)

How To Make Love Stay...

Who knows how to make love stay?

1. Tell love you are going to Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if loves stays, it can have half. It will stay.

 2. Tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a moustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.

 3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning. ― Tom Robbins

I love this guy! :)

Come Away With Me...

It's that time of the year again! :)

I love this time of the year! :) Grey clouds, a view of lush green mountains and little water falls from the office balcony, unlimited ginger-lemongrass chai with hot samosas and pokoras, getting drenched in the rain with friends, and if I can, yes, even making paper boats and jumping in the puddles (this time the nephew will join too :)), driving on the expressway (the only time I feel like I am in Phoren), and then of course, watching the night, beautiful as it always is, become even more enchanting come rains, of sleeping snugly with the comforting pitter-patter sound of rain in your ears, of thunderstorms...somethings will be missed, like cuddling with your favourite person while watching the raindrops eventually become one...but others will remain same. Of just being indoors with no one but books for company. It's that time of the year again when I am the happiest :)

I must have posted Glosoli a couple of times on this blog, but I love it, and even more for the video:

*****

And oh no, sense prevailed :)

Postcards...

Locus Of Control...

“Good weather is like good women - it doesn’t always happen and when it does it doesn’t always last. Man is more stable: if he’s bad there’s more chance he’ll stay that way, or if he’s good he might hang on, but a woman is changed by children, age, diet, conversation, sex, the moon, the absence or presence of sun, or good times. A woman must be nursed into subsistence by love where a man can become stronger by being hated.” — Charles Bukowski

A woman gets her energy from knowing the man she loves, loves her back. And I have seen what loving someone day-in-day-out without getting that love back can do to her; at the end of it she'll become a hollow unit.

And at such a point, she should be filled up again, with love from family and friends and kisses from little kids***, hugs and sunshine and colours and warmth, flowers and music and laughter and the good bits of life, till such a time she's plump with joy for life again.

And then she must go out and love again.


***The kind that makes you feel accepted, what matters then if no one else is as crazy about you? This is enough.

An Octopus And A Pony...

I don't know how to put this, but I think I just realized my biggest flaw. And for your sake, I won't panic as much.

I Never Feel Earthquakes...

Do you remember back in the 90's the biggest problem men had when it came to dating was that talking to women scared the daylights out of them men? I remembering coming across a dozen articles everyday where someone had a brilliant advice how to break the ice-which usually was go-fucking-TALK-to-them. These days those articles have disappeared. We don't need them anymore, we now have the Internet.

*****
When I think about AB, I always remember the curt reply he gave me when I asked him if the Microprocessor lecture was cancelled; "apparently", was all he said and walked away like I was some lowly creature and he some God. He acted like one. At least that is what we all thought and hated him for it. He was one of those college topper boys and had an air about him that made people feel awe or hatred about him. As for me, I found him weird. And when Apeksha lost a bet, I asked her to go ask AB out for some Pineapple Milk**. She did and he said a "No" that sounded more like "In your dreams woman". (Appppuu! I am gonna meet you soon!!!!Yay! :) Baby! And we'll dance to the Pungi song! Fun times await.  Unless I die in a plane crash first :| )

Okay back to AB, I ran to the classroom, the ever late me, and true enough, the lecture was cancelled. And that's all the interaction I ever had with AB back in engineering college. Apart from throwing paper planes at him in the class when we got really bored and mean.

We graduated and went our different ways. Then one day Orkut came with the chat feature. Everyone on your Orkut list was added to your chat list on Gtalk. And suddenly, AB and I were chatting.

Today, not only do we chat regularly(I know, sorry for being tardy lately) and I must feature in his very small "girl friends" list, but also, I have come to understand him for the person he is and AB, sorry for throwing paper plans at you back in college :( You've been a darling of a friend, and one who's been always so, so practical! He's my "give-practical-unbiased" advice guy.


The whole point of this exercise was to tell you that the WWW has been really awesome, in bringing people together. I know so many awesome people, people I have never met, but yet who feature daily in my life, thanks to the WWW.

When I told my friends I was travelling alone all the way to Mysore to attend a friend's wedding, a friend I had known only on the Internet, every one of my friends thought I was crazy. But anyone who's been on the blogger and twitter has such friends and knows it's anything but crazy.


**We had the Aarey milk factory close to college which used to be one of our usual hangouts and the pineapple milk....simply yum!

*****
But as always, we have taken a good thing and turned it into a bad thing. In spite of having 1000 friends on FB, a thousand followers on Twitter, we are lonely and bored.


Boredom and loneliness is a problem today cause we choose to hide. And the WWW has given us that too. We choose to be lazy. We have lowered our standards and we are happy with it, cause not hiding and actually going and talking to people in person takes efforts, it means you can't be something you're not, you stand a chance of exposing your true self and you have to be vulnerable. It means we can go on pretending to be super humans in the online world and the real world doesn't matter anymore, cause look how many friends I have on FB! You can tweet about having a good time on twitter and post pictures you clicked last night with Katrina Kaif, but how many know that you're lonely? The WWW has given us that, a chance to be what we're not.


But why should we want to be something that we're not? Why are we so afraid? What do we have to hide? We have our BB busy status and we have the notorious invisible status on Gtalk. We have learnt to hide behind our FB walls and code life in our sly tweets. In a country of 1.2 billion people if you're lonely and bored, then the problem should be in you, no?


All you have to do is look up from your screen and at the people around you. So many interesting people, so many wonderful conversations await you. So many wonderful memories wilt and die, tired of waiting. I have a friend who's always busy on his BB, while I sit playing with my soup. I wonder if he'll miss these times when I waited for him and he was busy talking to people on his BB. And I see that happening everywhere. People enter clubs and restaurant in packs and then spread out in corners busy on their BB's. What's the POINT people? Retards.


When there's a person in flesh sitting from across you and you choose to talk to a machine instead, what times sweet lord! This is how these machines will take over us and this will be written as the beginning of the end of the human race. No, wait, I am not being dramatic here. You'll see! If you survive the talking-robot attack, that is.


*****
I am so exhausted that even the thought that today is the first day of my vacation doesn't excite me. Well, I still have to finish loads of work and pack!

But sigh, first travel of the year. God! I want more of these!!! I want more friends! I want to travel MORE! Argghh.

And God, if I don't get it in this life, I'll die and crib so much to you in heaven that you'll be forced to send me back to earth with the most awesome bunch of friends and loads and loads of awesome travel! Choose!

*****
And I am tired, I give up. Once I meet her, I am going to prostrate in front of her and tell her it's all in her hands now. She has to decide whether to revive or kill it. I am, tired.

*****
I want you to come and fold me into you arms and just let me be. Hold me tight and make me forget everything else. I am waiting, waiting, waiting :| Dude!

*****
I dreamt about you yesterday. You had written to me and you were telling me you were having some problems but now things are getting back on the track and you seemed happy writing to me, like you were not mad at me anymore. How are you sweetheart? Are you really so mad at me that you won't even talk to me?

You seemed happy in the dream. I hope you're so in real life too. I miss you, my Tarot lady.

*****
Look up from that screen and you'll notice the bare hill in front of your window, the blanket of purple flowers has disappeared and the wild grass has now turned brown, that summer has arrived and that it's time to go out and make new friends.


And while we're at it, I want to dance to this song with my new friends.

And I want to lie on grass under the midnight sky and listen to this song.

Banana Pancakes...

I am listening to this song in a loop (btw, I have fallen in love with his music):

And then I have a sudden craving for this song: 

I can be like that.

P.S: How utterly delicious does Aamir Khan look in this video?

Like 70% Cocoa...

I love you

like dipping bread into salt and eating

Like waking up at night with high fever

and drinking water, with the tap in my mouth

Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman

with no clue what it is

fluttering, happy, doubtful

I love you

like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time

Like something moves inside me

when it gets dark softly in Istanbul

I love you

Like thanking God that we live.

-Nazim Hikmet

Unbolted...

It's a good day when you find your old self again...even if it is for a few hours :)

Nightcall...

The night. Deep, smooth, eloquent.

The Tucked Away Home...

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”

― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

Older...

Okay, I know I have cribbed a zillion times about age here, but someone just addressed me as "bhabhi" today (in a respectful manner)!

I am...

Books...

“We are the people of the book. We love our books. We fill our houses with books. We treasure books we inherit from our parents, and we cherish the idea of passing those books on to our children. Indeed, how many of us started reading with a beloved book that belonged to one of our parents? We force worthy books on our friends, and we insist that they read them. We even feel a weird kinship for the people we see on buses or airplanes reading our books, the books that we claim. If anyone tries to take away our books—some oppressive government, some censor gone off the rails—we would defend them with everything that we have. We know our tribespeople when we visit their homes because every wall is lined with books. There are teetering piles of books beside the bed and on the floor; there are masses of swollen paperbacks in the bathroom. Our books are us. They are our outboard memory banks and they contain the moral, intellectual, and imaginative influences that make us the people we are today.” -Cory Doctorow

Recall...

For me, the movie does not end at "The End". I am the girl who'll wait till the last name in the closing credits is rolled off from the black screen.

Too Much Sugar...

Yes, hearts will be broken, trust will be betrayed, people will cheat and you'll be left disillusioned. But don't give up. Hearts will mend, you'll meet someone who'll make you want to give them your entire world, you'll go ahead and make friendships that'll last a lifetime and you'll find in yourself inexhaustible power to forgive. So no, we should not be in the business of bursting bubbles. Not now, not anytime soon.

People deserve to have their faith rewarded.

And if you stop being grumpy, you'll realise, it always is.

Someone's Preferred Ending...

The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:

I’d like to find you in the shower

And chase the soap for half an hour.

I’d like to have you in my power and see you eyes dilate.

I’d like to have your back to scour

And other parts to lubricate.

Sometimes I feel it is my fate

To chase you screaming up a tower or make you cower

By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.

I’d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a fte.

I’d like to offer you a flower.

I like the hair upon your shoulders,

Falling like water over boulders.

I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.

Your collar-bones have great potential

(I’d like all your particulars in folders marked Confidential).

I like your cheeks, I like your nose,

I like the way your lips disclose

The neat arrangement of your teeth

(Half above and half beneath) in rows.

I like your eyes, I like their fringes.

The way they focus on me gives me twinges.

Your upper arms drive me berserk.

I like the way your elbows work, on hinges.

I like your wrists, I like your glands,

I like the fingers on your hands.

I’d like to teach them how to count,

And certain things we might exchange,

Something familiar for something strange.

I’d like to give you just the right amount and get some change.

I like it when you tilt your cheek up.

I like the way you nod and hold a teacup. I like your legs when you unwind

them.

Even in trousers I don’t mind them.

I like each softly-moulded kneecap.

I like the little crease behind them.

I’d always know, without a recap, where to find them.

I like the sculpture of your ears.

I like the way your profile disappears

Whenever you decide to turn and face me.

I’d like to cross two hemispheres and have you chase me.

I’d like to smuggle you across frontiers

Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.

I’d like you to embrace me.

I’d like to see you ironing your skirt and cancelling other dates.

I’d like to button up your shirt.

I like the way your chest inflates.

I’d like to soothe you when you’re hurt

Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.

I’d like you even if you were malign

And had a yen for sudden homicide.

I’d let you put insecticide into my wine.

I’d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein

Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian’s Jekyll and Hyde.

I’d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen ni Houlihan

How melodramatic

If you were something muttering in attics

Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.

You are the end of self-abuse.

You are the eternal feminine.

I’d like to find a good excuse

To call on you and find you in.

I’d like to put my hand beneath your chin. And see you grin.

I’d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,

I’d like to feel my lips upon your skin,

I’d like to make you reproduce.

I’d like you in my confidence.

I’d like to be your second look.

I’d like to let you try the French Defence and mate you with my rook.

I’d like to be your preference and hence

I’d like to be around when you unhook.

I’d like to be your only audience,

The final name in your appointment book, your future tense.

-John Fuller

Short Tales...

Dearest All,

I am fine, and before you panic too much, no, I am not going to flood this space with sentimental/sad love poems. The one by Sammuel Beckett was posted just because I liked what it said and how it was said, not because I am sad. God promise. In fact I am happy. But thank you for checking up on me.


And if you really want to make me feel better, go binge on some fatty stuff so that I am not the only one feeling fat :)