A Liar's Guide to the Dreams..
These are the dreams which leave a note of remembrance. They cling to our tongues like a bittersweet delight.
They feel familiar, though their flavour melts in the mouth... and taste distinctly unusual.
December 29, 2007
1. What did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before?
Partied like crazy. I never did it before. And yes, became superficial. Very.
2. Did you keep your new years resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I kept my new year resolution of finding someone. I did. I lost him too. I would make another one for the coming year. Of finding absolution.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
4. Did anyone close to you die?
5. What places did you visit?
I visited Jabbalpur for my best friend's wedding. Without the adultery bit. Did not do much sightseeing, though.
6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
I need to run away. Somewhere. I could not do that in 2007 though I tried.
7. What date from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
13th April and 21st May. Why? Both has to do with someone whom I am proud of.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I got a job. And I was damn good at it.
9. What was your biggest failure?
I lost a friend. Or someone I thought was a friend.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. I did. Quite a lot of that.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
Chu's. I love her because she deserves it.
13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and/or depressed?
Kheps's. I would not lie anymore. Not to myself, not to others. I never expected what he did to me, and I shall not forget it any time sooner.
14. Where did most of your money go?
On clothes, food, and my laptop.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
I got excited about Cassini's Division. And I got excited about my job too.
16. What song will always remind you of 2007?
Carnival of Rust - Poets of the Fall.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
Its fleeting, re. All these emotions. I don't know... I think I am on a different level of emotions altogether.
18. Thinner or fatter?
NOT TO BE DISCLOSED. CONTENT SUPPRESSED.
19. What do you wish you'd done more of?
I wish I had done more travelling.
20. What do you wish you'd done less of?
I wish I had not mourned and been sad about someone.
21. How will you be spending Christmas?
Already spent it at a party and then followed up by cooking lunch and getting drunk as a skunk in a funk.
22. Did you fall in love in 2007?
No. I gave up on it.
23. How many one night stands?
One night can't be spent standing...
Ah really, you think I will answer that? Mairi!!
24. What was your favourite TV programme?
This was the year of watching very less TV. But still, Jamie Oliver ruled.
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Yes I do.
26. What was the best book you read?
Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Guy
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
28. What did you want and get?
I got passion.
29. What did you want and not get?
I did not get love.
30. What was your favourite film of this year?
Taare Zameen Par.
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Distributed chocolate at work place. Went out to the club, and got drunk because I turned 24.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Getting through M.Phil
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
34. What kept you sane?
Determination. And a lot of friends.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
37. Who did you miss?
I missed a lot of people. A lot. They all matter and I am exhausted just by thinking about them.
38. Who was the best new person you met?
Its a tie. Dhruva and Pablo.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.
Don't believe the truth. Very Oasis.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
My life..... Is nothing but this Carnival of Rust.
I am tired of this. Tired of everything I guess.
I want out.
Come on, hit me with a car so I can get amnesia and a new life!!
December 27, 2007
Yes, right, this is a sort of food post. I seriously should look for a career in the gastronomical delights section of life because there is no one (and I proudly say that) who can be compared to me for eating and feeding people during this Christmas. And that too, without making any dessert at all.
Oh so it began when I carried around 3 pounds of beef pickle to my Prof’s place and played carom all evening over that and mulled wine. Prof and I gel well, so over the rapidly disappearing pickle, he sort of asked me to open the fridge, see what’s in it, and make whatever’s suitable out of it.
I went. I opened. I gaped.
Delight of delights! There sat an unopened, queen-size pack of Lindt Milk Chocolates.
At this point, I really do not need to go ahead and say that I put my face into that luscious mass of melting delights and sort of… licked and sucked and nipped and gulped. Maa… that was like… like getting kicked in the teeth and electrocuted in a good way. And Oh, then the Prof and I sort of settled down to talk over fried chicken and fine alcohol (My man, the Jack) and his wife came over and watched me with awe as I finished the entirety of the Lindt.
Yes, well, I have taken up walking and Tai Chi again.
And then there was The Pain.
My eyes suddenly began to itch. I have no clue why, but they sort of went cold and red. Sir declared I have a cold, and I said… NONONO I don’t … I so don’t (because I have all the plans made and nothing can go wrong now, can it?)
Oh it can. Resulting into me wearing a pair of OLD glasses to one of the snazziest parties of the year.
AH me! And oh, the hacking cough to go with it. Just my luck to get one day, I repeat, One DAY, off in one year, and it turns out to be glassy.
And I came back to my friend’s place and promptly fell asleep, only to wake four hours later to run back home because I needed to cook lunch.
The lunch was fabulous. I made Rum-Glazed Chicken… a slight deviation from the Original Roasted Turkey and Ham and Whatnot. I shall provide the recipe because I know that a few people reading this blog have an insane urge to cook and eat…
SO what you need is a chicken of considerable size (three pounds/1.3 kgs should just about do it)… prepared for roasting (i.e. without the icky squishy liver and other bits innit, and with the skin intact). You wash the chicken and check if there are any feathers sticking to the skin of the chicky. If so, take em out, I say! Then what you do is, make that headless baby sit tight while you bash up and chop about 10 large cloves of garlic, and mix it with a couple of tablespoon of marmalade, a tablespoon or so of honey, some salt, pepper to taste, a teaspoon of dried rosemary, and about 2 tablespoon of French mustard. At this point, let me tell you that I MAKE MY OWN MUSTARD but feel free to use any good brand available to you… you can even substitute it with kashundi which is Bengal’s answer to mustard. Now what you do is, sort of loosen the skin of the chicken from the meat around the breast and the thighs. This is a slightly tricky thing… but what you need to do is work around the cavity of the chicken, make a little cut on the skin, and then put your finger inside the hole and push it good!
Then comes the part that I love… The Bacon. I sort of put in the mixture that I made all over the chicken and give it a nice backrub. And then I cram as many slices bacon as possible inside the little pouches I made between the skin and the meat. This generally means around eight slices… but I keep around 12 in handy because after stuffing it, I put the remaining in the baking tray, beside the chicken.
The oven, meanwhile is on at 200 degrees C. I take a baking tray, smear it with A LOT OF BUTTER…(and I am saying this with a straight face, I am) around 1/3rd cup, and make the fat baby sit there with her kids around. For kids, read onions… as many possible, quartered, and (preferably) fried in some of the butter. I also put in the remaining bacon, and begin roasting.
About fifteen minutes later, I open the oven door, take out the remaining bacon gracing the sides… and nibble on them while the chicken’s being cooked.
About fifteen more minutes later, I turn my baby on its stomach, and allow him to bask in his glory. At this point I add around half a cup of rum around and over him, to make sure he tans nice.
He smells nice, too.
Then the oven is turned down to 180 degrees C and the chicken is allowed to cook till its soft and juicy and the pan is full of mostly charred onions… and the Burnt Crunchy Bits are sticking to it. Let me tell you, there is nothing more heavenly on this earth for some people to scrape out the Burnt Crunchy Bits and gobble them down. They basically rule, because you don’t know if its bacon or onion or any other goodies you get. Around 5 minutes before taking the chicken out, I sort of arrange a few cocktail sausages around the chicken and pour a lot of rum over them again to make sure they look and smell Rummy. And then I carry the whole lot out to the table and carve the chicken while everyone watches in rapt anticipation and reverence.
I cant go on like this. My Christmas dinner was basically a cocktail of drinks and medicine (oh, the hacking cough continues) followed by a massive hangover that spilled over the next day…
Yes, I sort of hate Christmas. Not for the food and friends and fun though. Just that, I still wait for some miracle to happen, when I am waiting alone in a dance floor full of gyrating people, or when I am walking alone to Park Street, or when I’m getting by with a little help from my friends.
I loved Christmas this year, though. It was made marvelous by the people around me. And it sort of brought in my view that though I can’t fight these tears from coming, I still can make it with these miraculous people around me who love me. And I can live with that.
December 20, 2007
I know. I sound mean and nonreligious and is probably fit to be tied and hung by the thumb or even worse parts of my anatomy... a shiver runs through my body by the very mention of those kind of stuff.
Ah well. The other day I realized that this world is pretty messed up and all around us food is being wasted while people out in Purulia are dying because they do not have anything to eat.
I mean, who cares? Do you? Do I? Do we care if we know that street girls are raped by men at the age of 4 and most of the times it is their fathers who do that? Do we care if we Learn that .... Oh, in Sonagachi, there are nearly ten thousand sex workers out of whom around 70% are underage?
And here we sit in the sty of our contentment and drink rum and sing songs and dont really care even if we realize that someone out there is sitting by a little fire made with old newspapers and cardboard pieces gathered from gutterside and nodding his head in silent approval of some rhyme that is all in his head.
And winter is upon us.
And someone out there is working, hunched over, trying to fix a broken carburettor for ten rupees at the end of the hour, so that his little boy can have a piece of Christmas cake at the end of the day.
My days and ways are losing focus. I wander through the city's belly and look around. In some corner I find a group of men snorting brown sugar and laughing out loud.... Their nasal laughs turn my stomach as I pass them and they pass comments.
And the old bookshop I used to go to whenever I hit College Street is gone. Street fights got the old man who ran it killed. Its being turned into a Engineering Books stall.
Season : Winter.
Time : Yuletide.
Its the time. It is flying away now. I hope this too shall pass.
December 14, 2007
More than that. Its been a year and more.
And I admit it, I fell for You. You were everything I ever dreamed of.
But then, I could not match the real You. I could not. I tried to find You but I failed. I tried to find You in so many men but I failed. Because You are in my mind, in my soul, in my heart. Heart of my heart, You remain inside, and I have been looking for You everywhere.
I am stupid.
But now I know. I know that You will never come. Because You are already there. Deep inside me. You are there for eternity because You are immutable. A concept.
I shall let you rest. You are there, I know. Let me move on. Because I have realized that You were something I created. You were a myth.
You........ were a dream.
Now I shall wake.
Come to me.
"And I was desolate and sick of an old passion...."
December 09, 2007
Ten things I'll do by thirty....
First of all... Let me go ahead and panic and say.... OMIGOD I shall be thirty in SIX.... SIX.... SIX... years.... Ooooohkay..... lets see what I want to do.
10. I want to sky dive. Or bungee jump. Or both. Reason? I have vertigo.
9. Get myself a Tattoo. A proper one, preferably from Goa.
8. That means, I will be going to Goa. WHICH is again, on my list. And I want to stay in a shack there... A proper shack.
7. Make love.
6. The previous comment sort of brought us to the eternal question... Who with? I hope to find the right person to do it with. Right, here I would like to comment on the damned luck I have when I go around looking for the right person... and end up with The Jerk. The Other day I was sort of running an experiment of calling people up and asking them... Erm do you think I fall for the Jerk? I ran this through Andro, Kaichu, D, Peep, Manzy... and guess what? Apart from Manzy, all of them agreed that I fall for jerks. Manzy sort of tried to save grace by saying.... "You fall for the wrong type."
I am stupid. I fall for arrogance. Shit.
5. Live. Alone. Without the family. Oooof, I can't take the family no more.
4. Slim down. Yes, I have had enough with the curveball jokes and the bump-and-grind jokes and the big woman jokes.
3. Be romanced. The way I want to be. Proper courtship.
2. Make people look at me with respect in their eyes. Because I have earned it (With Aretha Franklin singing it in the background...)
1. Fall in love.
Yes, I know. I am stupid. And yes, I am romantic, and allthat. But tonight I saw my Adt get married. My best nerd of a friend... head of the high school priss club... the girl I loved because she was the best defensive strategy planner ever. And looking at her today sort of made me realize that time's a-wasting. I went to the party for a few hours.... because I could not bear not to go. And when I was coming back.... Sayani was in the car with me, staring outside... her eyes were blank. I knew what she was thinking... I was thinking the same thing....
What am I doing?
Its such a question of a question for a girl to see someone she loves fall in love and marry. It makes her biological clock go CUCKOO-CUCKOO-CUCKOO within her soft shell. I wish I was not sentimental. I wish I was not this nyaaka. But it DOES NOT HAPPEN. Really. It makes me wonder even more What the Effing Hell am I doing with my life and is it worthwhile?
Yanyway.... back to my post.
10 things I should be grateful for....
These are not marked... simply because they have no right or left order.... no priorities. Because all of them are sort of equally important.
- My school. And my college. And my University. I respect you, I love you. You gave me build. I do not know how I would have survived some years without your grace.
- Friendship. They have lifted me up when I was in need. They have sheltered me when I was weak. I cannot tell you how much I adore you.... but you know who you are and what you mean to me for simply being there... be it on the other end of the phone, or the other side of this world. For those moments of demolishing a tuna sandwich together, or loitering around in search of kaash phool, or drinking and singing at Oly, or walking miles and miles anywhere... with no direction home, or working together in utter silence, feeling the presence of the other right beside me.
- My room. Its me. Its mine. Its all I have. I can make it or break it as I want to. It does not reject me.... ever. It makes me who I am... and I mess it up as much as I want to. Its my mess and I love it. Aamar ghore aami raani. And my pets who adorn it. I love my Ghotu. Oolikibaajepakhilebaba!!
- My books. Beautiful... you are. All of you. I love you to the point of obsession. I adore you... I worship you. You are what I look for in the end of the day...
- Monty Python. Terry Pratchett. Neil Gaiman. Alan Moore. Borat.
- The Sister. Though she was a result of Absolute Bloody Carelessness in the Parents' part, she gave me a lot. She takes a lot too, but thats for another post when I am pissed with her. Right now I am wearing a little pearl pendant she gave me once. Its beautiful. And she saved for months for it. Makes me want to think sometimes. About me. About her. About how I would stop myself from beating her into a pulp.
- Andromeda. For giving me grace. And for the walks.
- Kaichu. For never mincing the truth.
- Pablo. For scolding me, fighting with me and for giving me long lectures.
- Resilience. With which I can tolerate Andromeda's nyakaami(I daresay I want to slap her sometimes when she snivels and goes Boo Hoo), Chu's eating habit (And trust me I want to put her on a DIET so fast....), and Pablo's Dramabaaji (He should SO be in a Bangladeshi cinema).
December 08, 2007
1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the name of the song no matter what. No cheating.
(In place of comments, I post a line from each song that seems to be apt for the post)
IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY”? YOU SAY?
Stupid Girls - Pink
baby if i act like... THAT!!
WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Papercut - Linkin Park
Its like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
Its like the face inside is right beneath my skin
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Testify - Rage Against The Machines
Your temple it calms me
HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Hallowed be Thy Name - Iron Maiden
Catch my soul cause its willing to fly away
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Ripple - The Grateful Dead
If I knew the way I would take you home
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Saawan me Lag Gayi Aag - Mika
Sune na sune na paagal diwaani...
Aaj na soya saari raat dil mera haay....
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Bholi Surat Dil ke Khote - Lata Mangeshkar
Naam bare hai darshan chhote
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Psycho Monkey - Joe Satriani
Er this has no lyrics. But the title sorta explains everything.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
La Tortura - Shakira
Ay amor me duele tanto (A love hurts both)
WHAT IS 2+2?
I Heard it Through the Grapevine - Marvin Gaye
I bet you're wondering how I knew
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Nothing Else Matters - Metallica
Trust I seek and I find in you
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Drive my Car - The Beatles
I got no car and it's breaking my heart,
but I've found a driver and that's a start.
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Nahi rakhta dil mein Kuch - Lucky Ali
Nahi rakhta dil mein kuch,I could not decide which line to keep.
Rakhta hoon zubaan par,
samjhe na apne bhi kabhi.
Kah nahi sakta main kya,
sahtaa hoon chupa kar,
Ek aesi aadat hai meri.
Sabhi to hain jinse milta hoon,
Sahi jo hai inse kahta hoon,
Jo samajhta hoon.
maine dekha nahi rang dil aaya hai sirf adaa par,
Ek aesi chahat hai meri.
Baharon ke ghere se laaya main dil sajaa kar.
Ek aesi sohbat hai meri.
Saye mein chaye rehta hu
Aankein bichaye rehta hu
Jinse milta hu
kitno ko dekha hain hamne yaha
kutch sikha hain hamne unse naya
Pehle phursat thi ab hasratein samakar
Ek aaisi uljhan hain meri
Khud chalkar rukta hu jaha jis jagah par
Ek aaisi sarhad hain meri
Kahne se bhi main darta hoon
Apno ki dhun mein rahta hoon
Kar kya sakta Hoon
De sakta hoon main thoda pyar yahan par,
Jitni haisiyat hai meri.
Reh jaaun sabke dil mein dil ko basakar
Ek aaisi niyat hain meri
Ho jaye to bhi razi hoon.
Kho jaau to main baaki hoon.
Yun samajhta hoon.
Raste na badle na badla jahan
Phir kyon badalte kadam hain yahan
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Stairway to Heaven - Frank Zappa's version
No body, but nobody knows what Zappa can do to this song. He is GOD. Or someone close to Him.
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Sutta - The Zeest
Bhenchod, baanchod, bhenchod baanchod bhenchod baanchod....
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Space Oddity - David Bowie
I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Dirty Harry - Gorillaz
Ain't got a chance, we ain't got a chance...
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
We didn't Start the Fire - Billy Joel
It was always burning...
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Highway to Hell - AC/DC
I'm on my way to the promise land
WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
You do something to me - Paul Weller
Mixing my emotions that throws me back again
Hanging on the wire, I'm waiting for the change
I'm dancing through the fire, just to catch a flame
an' feel real again
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Ghetto Superstar - Pras feat. Mya and ODB
The Supreme-dream-team always up with a scheme
WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
Me and my Shadow - Frank Sinatra
Life is gonna be we-wow-whee! For my shadow and me.
December 06, 2007
Anyway, the benefits of websites have come through and the search has gone online. Here are a few samples.
"Hi to all. This is the first time I am here. Well describing myself is a difficult task for me especially here but in short I am a simple guy with simple values but extremely ambitious in terms of my career and regarding my life partner I want a simple, nice girl with little values and who could be my best friend before my second half."
We shall await the second half. Picture abhi bhi baaki hai mere dost.
"Regarding family background, father retired IFS officer, mother expired when I was only 12, two elder sis, one married. Do not have any bad habbits. i do smoke and drink occasionaly. Seeking for a life partner with whom i can share my thoughts and offcourse love. I am a very lovable type of a person , I think u will admire me more when u will meet me. I am very down to earth like a person. Hoping for a right match. She dont have to be beautyful but I desire my wife to be beautyful from heart."
Offcourse you shall get someone. Just not me. I am not beautyful from heart. I have lungs and gobs of fluid in it. Cholesterol-pressurizes the area where my heart once was.
"Looking for someone who has some aim in life, that may be towards the ultimate growth of her life. "
By God, dil garden garden ho gaya....
"Hi, good to see u watching my profile. i beleive that word's can never describe any one's personality b'cause their is vast difference bt'wen a language and emotions. i dont have any specfic hobbies at present but ussualy i like to go on long drives,have north indian or mughal dishes and gaze at the sky.I am tall, wheatish & handsome Ha.Ha ha...not at all. My Preference : i have no preferences as such except that our wavelength should match."
All right, this is All India Radio combined with an astronomer. I do claim that I have been guilty of stargazing at times.... generally at three in the morning when the world is asleep and I am missing my job and feeling hungry because I know that in one part of Kolkata there is someone eating chicken fried rice and running back to work... Ah work! What you made me!
The Soft Threller
"Hello,I am very simple and down-to-earth person.I like reading books(threller),listing music,surfing internet.I am whitesh,slim body type.I think that my life partner would be my best friend and I can create my future plan consulting with her.I am indian citizen by birth.I am not smoking and nither drinking.I have an elder brother brother and no sister.My father is an retired employee and my mother in a govt employee.My elder brother is a businessman and i am a computer programmer working in a software firm in saltlake,kolkata."
I could deal with the brother. I could deal with the slim body type. I cant deal with thrells. Sorry.
"I like reading books, watching Good movies (irrespective of language/country), i trek a lot. I like riding bikes. I like serenity and less crowded place. I own one Electra from enfield company. My complexion is not fair....well...not dark also! i am little overweight. I plan to marry by 2007. I am an Indian. I love to stay in India. My profession has many time tempted me to go abroad but i always humbly and politely avoided those 'opportunities'. Well... i like children. but unfortunately as i am still unmarried and i do not have the 'skill' or 'virtue' (whichever way u like to call) i failed to father any child till date! even failed to impress any girl at the first place. well.... ok, let me confess, i never tried to do so, honestly. I drink, occationally and only with my few old friends. I smoke, only when i am dipressed or down. By family i an not a vegetarian. but i do not eat fish. As my father deceased in my childhood, my mother preferred for veg food. so, from childhood i liked veg food. even now, 20-22 days in a month i take veg food. otherwise, i do not have any taboo for any food. I passed 10th standard from a bengali medium school. then 10+2 from a college in science. i completed my B.Sc (Physics) from CU. Then i completed my MCA from IGNOU. then i joined a software company as a computer programmer. In the year 2004 i left the company and opened my own software development firm. Right now i am in struggling period with my new adventure (read business). I am looking for a female. not male! She must be educated and jovial. and... as much honest as possible. I do not have any prejudices about caste, religion, financial status or any thing. I stay alone with my old metarnal uncle. I cook our food myself. i stay at central kolkata, in an apartment. .... well, thats all for the time being.You should not smoke (preference). If you do not smoke - I will not smoke, even when i will quarrel with my wife! "
This profile began with such promise. Truly at first I wanted to really go through the profile. But then came the food. And then the smoking bit.
"I am looking for a suitable match for me who would adjust to family values and adjust with the family cultures. Should not be too modern"
Boss we are postmodern here.
Yes, my loony bun is fine.
Peepsy's even better, but you better be liking my spunk because I am at the end of my tether here.
Oh, and have I told you how I lost a match?
The prospective In-Laws came to see me at Swabhumi, because they did not believe in conventional things, and wanted to meet me on a NEUTRAL ground. So I went, I had lots of good food on them because I am not supposed to have any according to the house rules and docs. And then I told them, while they were peering in a shop, "Oh I see someone... waitaminute I need to say hi...."
And I escaped, ran and came home. And when they called, because they were wondering where I was... I switched off the cell phone. And when they called the house, I assumed the voice of my mother and accused them of looting me away. They were afraid. Never called back.
Yes I am mad. And mean. And devoid of social graces. Sue me!
December 04, 2007
Sort of began slowly, but the flow is coming in now. Its been a long, haunting day with miles of melodrama and people banging their heads against the wall (read the wall of this room) and finally I threw up my hands.
Enough, said I.
I stared at my fate and proclaimed it down. Down with the sickness. I am tired of it.
But unfortunately, it is not tiring of me. Its eating my core. Slowly.
On another hand, the parents are being together and the twenty-fifth anniversary has come up and they have successfully drunk-dialed people and as a result I have had to call back and apologize to people who I have no clue about. With the THROAT that seems to me to be eternally sore now.
I hate my house. I want to run away. Someone, get me a Lamborghini and I would. I would also need a driver, so there!!
Lamborghini. I have expensive taste.
November 23, 2007
Its been quite a long time.
And I have been confined within the words.
So what was on my list again?
Oh yes, my days. The butt ends that remain of it are quite calm actually. I have forgotten how it was when a certain someone would make nasty comments and watch me suffer, I have forgotten the unsuspecting "Tag" that someone would unerringly put on me.
Now I have become very mental. This room sort of does that to me. Its around 10 x 12 feet and it really kills me sometimes though it has 7 windows that are kept open all day.
Its the nights I dread most of the times. I remember everything then.
But I have fun too. I fail to see Britney Spears waving back at me from a mirror or read too many fanfics and have nightmares.... but I do things that make me laugh. Here I must tell you that I have finished reading a few books that I always wanted to read but did not have the time... and they are bleddy awesome... including Jeanette Winterson's Tanglewreck and Kenilworth Whisp's Quidditch Through the Ages. Someone please send me a copy of Pratchett's Making Money and I will be eternally grateful.
And I am officially in a relationship. With two men. Who have devoted themselves to me. Thank You Dhruva and Swayam, you two make me feel like I can do something once I get off this room.
And no, I do NOT require a shrink, or a therapist. Its all good.
Its this room I tell you. Should not have let the Mother clean it. Now I cant find a single thing and all my stuffs are in Packets and in Racks....
November 15, 2007
Everything outside is dark and wet because the rain has soaked the November dust tonight and there I hear Gunshots.
It is a lone shot at first.
It is followed by a series of them.
I run to the balcony to see.
Where is it coming from? I wonder.... Where.
Then from the darkness I see two shades moving away from me, and one dark heap lying on the ground.
I run downstairs, open my door and run to the heap.
It is another person. It is another person who is now dead.
I do not know him. But he is dead.
I walk away. He is already dead and it is dark and wet here. I fear for myself. I will come back, I promise. Tomorrow. When ants would make holes on your eyelid to tear at your dead cornea. They like the sound of the tearing flesh when they make a steady attempt to demolish you with their comrades...
But you have made the first sacrifice. From here, the ants will come back, but they will not be able to eat you up. We will see to it. We will take you away and let you be in peace. The ants shall sample other bodies too, but we will try to salvage them before they get those bodies.
And then I shall trample the ants under my shod foot and kill them all. The ones who can run away will run away. I will stare at my mess and laugh at their death.
But for now, I leave. Let me go... I promise I shall be back.
November 11, 2007
And another day, you walked in front of a running car for me, and scolded me for being self-indulgent in misery, and you loved me too.
Yet another day you told me you loved me, overcoming all the barriers you have set around yourself.
And another day, you held my hand, kissed it, and told me about the miseries of the world within you, and then you sought relief because you loved me.
Haoay haoay..... haoay haoay.... Bondhu tomay.... e gaan shonabo....
Ei raat tomar amar.... ei chaand tomar aamar.....
Maine tere liye hi saat rang ke sapne chune.... sapne suriley sapne....
Zindagi kaisi ye paheli haaye..... Kabhi ye hasaaye, Kabhi ye...........................
Tanha dil, tanha safar, dhundey tujhe, phir kyun nazar
November 02, 2007
Ah well, I'll look for something else. I am going to. I swear.
Just not now.
The other day I was on a spree..... cleaning spree. And I was going through the junk that I have in my room, that most of my friends declare being Uber-comfy, apart from the great Chu, who begins cleaning within a mile of my room, and I end up losing everything that I have in the room..... Ah the pains of having a girl who loves me but does not love my mess!
Anyway, I revised on what I got myself with the salary I have.... have to analyze it because I have Quit it, and I need a replacement job fast, because Time's a-wasting. Butbutbut.... good news!! I have time to burn, and I have decided to learn how to drive my car.
Um, have you watched Speed? Sandra Bullock?? Let me tell you, I do not intend to drive my car like that. I just want to drive it....
Cars scare me. Like needles. I always wanted a tattoo. Like I wanted to donate blood. But let me tell you, you're watching that needle....that needle that went inside you once and pulled out some blood, go into you GOD-KNOWS-HOW-MANY times inside your skin.
Excuse me while I faint now.
Anyway, so I am left with unemployment, and I know that is going to be a problem soon enough, but hey, what was that Python song again?
Life's a piece of shit.... when you look at it.
For me, probably a piece of shit with a lipstick stuffed in it. With a piece of raw, scraped bone to top.
Sorry, impolite imagery. But have to vent that out sometimes when I realize that it was someone else's problem that eventually got me out of the job I have now. And the worst bit is, I can't do anything. Its all in the rulebook. And I have to follow it.
October 20, 2007
I am standing in the sidelines.... watching this happen. I am watching this happen. I cant believe this is happening but I am still watching, in horrified fascination. Its like watching someone rape me. Its like that. But its not just that.
The rape is a non-consensual act of violence where the subject is objectified. But what if the object is in another plane where she/he fails to understand what is happening to her/him, just let it happen, and watch as she/he is being raped from somewhere within the self where nothing, no one can approach her, touch her, understand her?
There's the rub.
I watch. Its always been like that. A watch. A look out. Out from the world within, like the mermaid watching from within the sea the spirit beyond. The mermaid wanted others to understand her but she could not. Her voice at the world of reality was snatched away. She was frozen on the spot, watching it happen to her.... where reality robbed her out of her speech. She became the ultimate puppet, played by the hands of reality... and she escaped to the sea because she realized the empathy of the enclosure...
October 06, 2007
September 18, 2007
And then we were lying down, and talking about "Stuff".... and I was in this haze.... [dare I call it purple??] the light from outside that came after all the lights were switched off and we were immersed in a twilight zone, and Dhruva as trying to tell us horror stories. After a while Kaichu sort of threw up her hands, looked and sounded adoringly like Mamie in Tom and Jerry and we knew we got to her.
Deep in the night we had met the Peep who had been asking us to gatecrash her party in the politest manner possible, and downing Black Dogs straight up. In the process, she left her cell phone in Kaichu's hand and later on had to be reminded of it over and over again.
And barely an hour before that, the Sandman, who was with us at Sharma's Dhaba, where we were downing Chicken Tangri Masala with Garlic Naan (Ah, a slice of heaven right down here...), was telling us his story, how he has lived alone for the last few years, and we were listening and as I was thinking........ Oh, to have that life back again, the days when I was twenty one, and as impressionable as him.
And even before, we were at Princeton, listening to a bad band play, and Pablo was sitting with me and we were discussing the times that bind us now.Another year is about to pass.
I grow old, I grow old.
September 06, 2007
I miss our old trainers... This room gives me the chills.... I miss Abhik, i miss Vivek and I miss Prateek. I met Prateek today... He looked strained. He identified me at the gate (because I had forgotten my own ID) and let me enter Wipro. I dont know why but I felt sorry for the poor guy.... Imagine, having to leave for Hyderabad on a few day's notice.... If I had a chance, I would hit on the decision maker's head and make him see sense.... That will teach him a lesson not to interfere in other people's business.
Driftwood. That sort of takes care of this post's issue. I miss home sometimes.... home is not home anymore. There are so many different things that I miss nowadays............. the crowd of JU, the people who used to be with me.... Andromeda and others.... and then I miss Sir, and Kaichu.
This sounds so desperately like a testimonial on the number of misses. But I do. I miss them, I miss them.... I really wish I could stop missing them.... but I cant. I cant believe that there was a time when I would spend hours in the end with people I loved, talking and laughing and having a gala time with them. Now I just go to sleep and remain thankful when I am not awake because some dumb idiot has called me in the middle of the night (which is basically three o'clock in the afternoon and therefore a godly hour for the rest of mankind )....
Anyway, there are things that I remember, when I go for breaks I do believe I wish sometimes I see Andromeda, from across here to the godawful place she works at..... But I wish her happiness. Because if this is what she wants, this is what she would have.
Momentary glimpses from a past life sometimes haunts me.... I feel paralyzed when I am suddenly attacked by a vision of Sandy quietly laughing as A Lal poked fun at Queen, and Bohemian Rhaphsody.... or ADG looking contemplatively at a copy of Antigone and just scratching his brow with the adorable "I dont know where my dog is, and I have no clue what the Anti Bitch's problem was.... And I think I am stuck at this terrible Miasma that is haunting me just as badly as the Choerephorai...." expression.
Ah, those Sophocles classes where Babel used to enter around fifteen minutes after the class had begun, and ADG smiling at her and giving her an indulgent "I know where you came from... and I really wish I did not but I do" smile and told her to sit with an imperial nod.... I felt like going "ZEUS! O Lord of Lords!!!" everytime he did that.... he had such an impact.... it was like a bolt of lightning. I might even compare him to Thor.
And Tintinda, dear Tintin da.
The name... the name...
I felt Loki.
Perfect. He is the ultimate mischief maker. I read Sandman the other day. I felt Tintinda in Loki. I felt Loki in Tintinda.
And sometimes I wonder what will I call myself. Delirium? Delirium is apt. I dont know where I am going and I dont know where I came from. This mind remains in a perpetual state of blankness, a state of numbness. I live in presence. Am I suffering from Permanent Cathartic Effect (PCE) ??
Dearly departed souls of this mortal cloth, I do feel for those who are lost, those who are gone to a different frame, and is lost in translation. I feel for you because the fallen IDOLS all turn to dust in the end... everything is lost, everyone is emptied of their own selves, and they follow the path... the path they think is shown but is actually something they have chosen on their own.
Everyone makes choices. All the choices are actually made for them, but they make them anyway. And with each choice they move forward, look forward, while living in their past, because every moment is a living history, a thing of the past the moment they are created. The illusion is perfect... we actually live in the past but look before. And we pine for what is not.
Maddy. My Maddalena, my Madeline, my Mado....
The other day I felt the warm tang of the morning breeze and I felt your smile with it. My sunshine, my glory, a love I love.... She believes in goodness. And she shatters just a little more as her belief is taken apart at the seams and torn. Like wings from a fragile moth. And she is as attracted to the hypnotic rays of light as the moth.
Which reminds me of someone who is better not named. Like Voldemort, he is to be left in the dark... Let him be the soul of this particular post. He colours the edges of the text... In spirit, he supplements the vermouth... caustic but succulent, leaving a bitter-sour-sweet aftertaste in the mouth and something that I really cannot define... A sense of denial? I hoped to become friends. I do not know now whether we are... foolish, thoughtless comments break the tender bonds we humans forge with threads of recognition of the pain that we all face and overcome, and face and face again.
I end here. It is a good time to end this particular post which brims with nostalgia, that beckons me towards the momentary need to forget oneself... we long to be in nothingness, and our longings often are realized.
August 17, 2007
Everyone goes away, in the end.
I lie. In this angry mass of burning spirits I float and churn inside, willing to calm but unable to do so... willing to give in but unable to run out of my molten spirits.... I am like the lava that erupts and pours through, the bile, the unbearable lightness of being in nothingness.
Will you carry all? My empire of dirt??
And I forgot the words, but the essence is still there. The essence is there in the short spurts of enthusiasm, the childish outstretch towards something.... something. But I find nothing. I see nothing. I feel nothing.
NO Thing is. But what is not?
August 05, 2007
Bile rises sometimes... from the innards that you took for granted. At the mess.
You rage. You fight against it coming out. You hate yourself for the mass of acidic sick erupting from your bowels, shooting out of your mouth. But you say it. You go ahead and throw the sickness at the world and revel in the pleasure of numbness inside your mouth.
And then you see a little girl playing in the gutters. The girl has pushed her arms through a polythene packet's handles, and the packet balloons out behind her... the illusion it gives.... it looks like wings. White wings.
And the girl's happy.
And all is well again. You go from place to place, stumble from block to block and falsely smile.
You tell people you adore how much you adore them, and then they tell you you look hurt.
What have I done, my sweetest friend???
Its all a mess, I tell them. All a lie. A big sham, and its just the beginning.
And someone looks over, from high and low, from all sides, including the inside, and smiles, and smiles, and smiles some more, because thats all there is to it.
You save the bile inside that smile. And one day it erupts with a little whimper of pain, and then it gushes.
July 22, 2007
July 20, 2007
I am in awe of him.
Sometimes walking down the mossy paths across the narrow bridges inside my being, I suddenly remember that there are fighters who made it, and suckers who did not. Sometimes I have fought, sometimes, I have been sucked in. What always mattered was that I survived. And I am. Surviving.
Its somehow simple once you realize that you can never give up on life. If you do, then it means you have lost yourself, left yourself behind, and given up searching for it. And so you try to find it in death.
July 18, 2007
July 04, 2007
Motherfucker, heal!! Make me whole again? Where have I healed? Where?
Look, look! It still bleeds here. And here. And here and here and here. They are raw, gaping wounds. Right here. And here.
Look there! Look! There it is. There is the wall. There is the room. There is the silent kingdom you once inherited from your parents. Now you can't even go to sleep in your throne. You close your eyes, and you see nothing. And that is what frightens you.
And I stand here, watching you. I watch you watch me, and I laugh. I laugh at you, I laugh at me. I laugh at us both, because, in the end, we are. We are. And I am.
All the parts of me. They hurt.
June 28, 2007
So there I have to write up something to please him. Panu is getting angry.
I checked this particular site, and I laughed till I fell off the chair... http://houseoffame.blogspot.com/
Extremely funny, I say.
So well, I was supposed to write something or the other. What was it? Oh, yes, You know, so it was Sunday night, and Cassini's Division [Typo corrected, Duchess!!!] was on full blast, and Trina, my friend, suddenly dumped a fistful of cigarette butts on my head. I was damn furious, wanted to poke out her eyes, or at least pull out her eyebrow stud, but Abir, my friend, and partner (who had enough vodka in him to pass off as a Russian) stopped me at it. So I decided to leave the show early, but somehow got late because Munkky was being adviced on the finer points of quizzing. Munkky looked suitably helpless, and ran away as soon as he could.
Abir, looking for the next victim, turned towards me.
I led him towards the general direction of KFC. As we were about to cross the street, Abir spotted a random kid of around 17 wearing a silver hat.
But the damage was done.
"I hate your hat, Man."
I dragged him off to KFC, and as I was about to order, there was a polite "hehek-khiyuuz-mee-hee-hee" behind us.
And the kid lectured Abir for nearly five minutes on how he was drunk, and thats why this "BEEEG MAN" was letting him go, simply because he had a girl with him. The kid was almost 4 feet 10 inches, and Abir was roughly a feet taller.
Poor Abir. He took it all in, with an insolent "SO?"
And after the kid left, he hung his head in shame.
Oh no, that was the Vodka.
June 15, 2007
Singing in the Rain, anyone?
And the Trainer. Is gorgeous. I am extremely pleased with the hours I can look at his lips moving and imagine...
June 13, 2007
June 08, 2007
So then I picked myself up, looked around, quite embarassed... and walked on, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. Again. Damn.
I went home with my leg aching, and sore throat, and the next day I got myself a job.
Nothing fancy, though, but still, a job.
And this is how life goes on... mundane, moral and misogynistic.
I used to call my friends up and they used to tell me that nothing much went on in their lives.... what about me? And me being the one leading the "exciting" life, told them all how weird it was to look outside the window and see the clouds make patterns or something equally normal into something supernatural, out-of-this-place, just to tell them that life is not all about looking at a thing from the angle of a practical, dead vision............. expand your mind, free it, and the rest will follow.
I sound Osho.
But thats it. You have to let go, and see how wonderous this world is... I can fall for it over and over and over again, and realize the beauty of it, and the ugliness, and it fills me up with pleasure to know that I can perhaps tell others and they can convey it to others, and maybe I will be able to spread the message.
And at the moment of enlightening, the sky darkens, and the wind blows, and the earth goes Kaplooweeey.... and thats that.
End of the story, people, move along now.
June 06, 2007
Peep = Obsessed with her bottom and upper and lower body and other numerous bits and pieces of her mind and soul, I often lose myself in the world she creates in her words.... needless to say, I was one of those hapless victims who cried herself to sleep in the middle of the night because of her farewell post to JUDE. Other victims include the Babel, Sukanya, and the Fish (this is another fish, not the BABEL, I repeat, NOT THE BABEL).
Rimi = A blogger with an attitude problem (at this point I expect Insults, complaints and bricks, but shall not waver from the point) who claims she is the calamity Jane of Kolkatan JUDEan scene.... she holds the Sapphic cup of warm tea in her left hand and a nice bar of Mars dangles from the right. Believes in almost anything, from psychic mindfucks to weeping wombats... she comes to me on a summer dream, and I sort of bask in her glory.
May 29, 2007
And then the Peep and I over dark darker darkest chocolates discussed the pains of being alive, and how to drown it by getting a tonne of lard and God-knows-howmuch caffeine in our veins in deliciously shaped packages... Ah the horror, the Horror.....
So then I was returning from Cheeni Kum the other day.... The MAN can still run, I say!!!! I was bowled over yet. Somehow a man above 60 should not be allowed to be that sexy. Its just me. I just saw him.
And I was coming back and the auto was amazingly packed, and I had the side seat and was getting all the air on my face, doing Lord-Knows-What to my already unmanageable hair. And I was quite outrageously happy despite my Mother who had come to see the movie with me... and been gushing lyrical over it. So I got down from my auto and what do I realize?
The print on the auto seat was one large picture of Gerard Butler from 300, this one to be precise.
And well, his mouth was open, and I had been sitting on top.
Btw, I shall be imparting erotological wisdom pretty soon so stay tuned to the next light year or so.
May 25, 2007
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. "
Dowson knew what its like. When the pain in your gut eats you away and you hide your face against the pillow and scream and cry your heart out but still there is no relief, and you promise to the distant North Star at three in the morning to make you forget.... to heal... but it does not help.
It just does not. Its so pathetic... this sham of indifference that you adapt. "I Do Not----" is such a lie, and your friends listen to you sympathetically but you still feel guilty because half your mind is not there, its been locked away for life, and the effort is so much that you feel drained.
Damn I am being sickeningly pitifully "nyaka"....
So dushhala, I dont bleeding care any longer. I dont think I am all that bad. I am healthy, apart from the ache I have from the Topple... and all, I think I am just fine. I am dancing and boozing and singing and basically my exams are over and I have got myself a JOB. So I am fine. Fine.
May 23, 2007
May 17, 2007
1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it:
I have one on the forefinger of my right hand. Age 9. An argument that I won against Ma.
2. What is on the walls in your room?
An amazing Poster of Two brown and white puppies dominate my North Wall. One of those puppies have eyes that make me want to do the "BOOCHOO... OOLIKIMITTICHHANALEBABA" to it. My South Wall has a poster of Harry Potter. And there is a bookshelf on that wall that lost a door because of overflow. Knowledge! How heavy it sits sometimes.
3. What does your phone look like?
Its white and pink and violet and blue. Very Girlie. My Dad chose it. Its Nokia, so basically Indestructible (I have tried, trust me) and the only thing that has happened to it after four years of misuse is a little scratch on its cover.
4. What music do you listen to?
All sorts. I am not picky. It all depends on my mood.
5. What is your current desktop picture?
Courtesy : Avikda. He is a fabulous artist.
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
Peace. And a Vacation.
7. Do you believe in gay marriage?
I do. As soon as it is legal in India, I am marrying Andro. And Kaichu. And Jane. And D. And Jhumpus. And Maddy.
I think Polygamy is punishable... na?
8. What time were you born?
Bikelbela probably. I forgot. I just know that the day was Bangla Bundh. So my dad and my grandmother had to walk 6 miles to reach the hospital.
9.Are your parents still together?
Yes. I still think they made a mistake, though.
10. What are you listening to?
12. The last person to make you cry?
13. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?Gucci's Envy. Calvin Klein's Contradiction for men. And the smell of roses and Lavender Talc. And the wet khus khus on hot summer days.
14. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like on the opposite sex?
Umm... Hair colour? Eye colour? erm.... I think it depends on the person and suitability.... though long hair turn me on. And piercing.
15. Do you like pain killers?
Can anything kill pain?
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
I did ask someone out once, so no, I dont think I am.
17. Fave pizza topping?
Pepperoni and plenty of cheese. And jalapeno peppers and mushrooms and shredded lamb.
18. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?Chocolates. Dark chocolates dripping with caramel... oozing nougat and more caramel. And a glass of frothy cold machiatto to go with it.
No matter what People thinks of my taste. Dark chocolates, NOUGAT and CARAMEL.
19. Who was the last person you made mad?
I make everyone mad. I am insane, je. But I think the last person I shall make mad will be Panu.
20. Is anyone in love with you?
I really do.
There. I does allsorts of stuff. I tag two people, ar parina.
May 14, 2007
Because I am a pushover.
A pushover who knows she is a pushover. That's the worst kind.
So screw me!
Anyway, whatever. All these amazing love affairs just pass me by, and I am left holding the glass of Vodka (Fuel, by the way).
So there was this man who told me he was going to come down in the merry month of May, but did he?
Nooooooo. He is too busy getting screwed up by his job and his precious CEO who is as big a jerk as he is.
And is Panu getting any thing out of this? Just because this is just another time a jerk has stood her up (well, except, this time, she has been stood up for a whole frigging month rather than a lousy two hours… but anyway, how does time matter here?) and all this humongous annoying shit is just buggering the hell out of her, and I am tense and wary because this world has ended and the bleeding sky has fallen, and yet another fabulous faux pas has been committed by the DAD early this night, and well, MA being Ma, is rattling on about her historical lessons (Chapter One: So in 1984 your mother told me that she did not want the curry too salty and I was only a child of 24 who barely knew anything……) and the SIS was being nasty and painted a few masterpieces on her canvas in revenge and I ended up throwing caution (read carefully charted out diet plan for the next lifetime) to the wind and indulged in a plate of Chicken A-La Olypub (and Oh Lord was that Bliss or What) and then came back to a roomful of nastiness… not to mention the half an hour I had to stand outside a seedy joint, waiting for someone to come out who did not at all like me standing there waiting…
And that's where this post ends.
May 01, 2007
There I was walking down College Street in the afternoon, my mind clouded with worry over my impending doom (read MA finals without studies) and Andromeda's general physical condition, and I was on my way to meet Maddy for a simple tete-a-tete at coffee house, only to find out other members of my gerobaaj group
So over Chicken Kabiraaji and cold coffee and The Diary of Don Rigoberto and Tutu Bhutu and lots and lots of adda I was basically relaxed, and it stretched till Paramount where over cold glass of cream green mango sherbet we were discussing Satyajit Ray and Soumitro and Sibram Chakraborty and whatnot.... and I looked at the shining faces (sweaty and glistening) and realized that this was what I was going to miss.... this sense of relaxing shall just leave.
And suddenly I did not want to stay with them any longer. I felt like the serpent in Paradise and I wanted to get away. But then I was stuck in a little shop around College street corner, and I was back five years, when I used to pay 5 rupees for one book and come home loving the bargain and the book. Animal Farm.
The man looked at me with accusing, yet strangely gentle eyes, and said, "Why have you not come for so long? "
I gave some non-committal reply, feeling guilty. It was as if I have not looked after my best friend... and I was guilty of ignoring them.
And I looked at the books and I walked on.
And then the world went *topple*.
Can topple be a sound effect? It so is what happened to me this evening.
And I looked at the scattered books and my purse and my ankle turned in a strange angle, and I vaguely realized that it was not the way it should have been.
So I pulled it back to normal with a little twist and then crawled into a taxi that one of those pedestrians called up and then the world went black for around five minutes.
I woke to pain and pain and pain.
And then My Dear Dad gave me the dose of two painkillers and two large whisky.
And yes, I am shot.
I am twisted and back on line. I am BAAACKK!!
April 27, 2007
Unki Yeh shikayaat hai ke hum kuch nahin kehte...
Par apna to yeh adat hai ke hum kuch nahi kehte.
Kehne ko bahut kuch tha agar kehne pe aate,
Kehne ko bahut kuch tha agar kehne pe aate...
Par apni tp yeh adat hai ke hum kuch nahi kehte.
Kuch kehe to tufan utha leti hai yeh duniya,
Kuch kehe to tufan utha leti hai yeh duniya...
Chup rehe toh duniya kehte hai hum kuch nahi kehte....
You told me lies tonight. Showed me no future. None. I hate you.
I hate you and I love you and I know I can never get over what you mean to me.
If only you knew. If only.
Meandering through the narrow roads to eternity... all falls down. This world is mine. I own it. Worthless shit.
Fringes of hair fall on my face, the whirring motion of the fan irritates me, but I still walk on, move on... never give up. Don't look back. Don't please give me this shit about you caring, because I know you don't give a damn, but I do and that is that.
Question to myself: am I losing in this situation? Am I the biggest, sorest loser born on the face of this sorry-assed universe?
I am. And the tragedy is, I can't even stop it. Or unwind it. Or give up.
I just have to give in.
April 16, 2007
But today after we were coming back from Milonda's canteen at JU, I was lagging behind Peep, watching her butt sway slightly, enticingly as she moved like a dancer, and Fish was giving me little, concerned looks behind her back that made her eyes glow in the dusky lamplight... I do not know how often have I seen a scene more beautiful, the sky darkened to an iridescent shade of near-midnight blue, transluscently the dusk fell all around us and I never wanted that moment to end, just stand there and have meaningless chit-chat with the two of them and let the moment continue. But that moment reality called, and I was on the bus to my way home, and on the way I was thinking of the way our farewell in Xavier's went where there were long boring speeches interspersed by Saru pulling on his tie because he was getting sweaty and hot, and Anni's yawns that were never-ending, and Sabby wanting to go to the loo and T S clicking photos. Andro was the rock, sitting beside me and letting me play snake in her cell-phone.
Afterwards we had gone to the little coffee bar where over Nestea and hideously sugarless coffee Anni had suddenly asked, "Achha what do you think about me?" to everyone else. It led to a long discussion about how everyone felt about everyone else and in the end nothing was resolved or said really, just a list of what we liked/did not like about everyone else in the gang was established.
And then there was the time in my school when we were given some glitter powder and asked to sprinkle it over someone else's head and confess whatever we wanted to. I remember wanting to use it on the crush I had, only to find someone else getting there first and being readily accepted. I stood back and let the couple move away, then charged on the Professor whose classes I hated because I was a perpetual mathophobic and he was the worst of the lot....
And then on Friday, I did not quite understand the impact of leaving JU. It was only after I came home and was preparing to go out, I received the full impact of it, and I was suddenly afraid. I hated feeling lost, and it was exactly what I was feeling.
But then, I have regretted my life sometimes, and loved it in moments. And today I was being jerked and thrown virtually everywhere on the bus, and finally I hung on to the window ledge and looked back and wanted to tell all those people whom I have met in JUDE and around JU exactly what they were to me... but I failed to tell them.
I wanted to tell Fish that I would miss her because she is one of the people I care about in JU.... but I forgot.
I wanted to tell Kaichu that I love her, but I was too afraid.
I wanted to tell Rimi to be a bit more responsible in real life, but I wondered if my advice would be welcome or not.
I wanted to tell Mou that people come in all shapes and sizes, and are loved for it. And she too shall be... but she was not there.
I wanted to tell Bimbo that she was the most beautiful little thing in JUDE I have had my pleasure of meeting, but she slipped away.
I wanted to tell Peep that she will always bounce back because thats the way she is... but I was sort of dazzled by her splendour.
And I wanted to tell my agesake to not impart wisdom where it was not required, but I realized that the effort would be too great... and it would not be appreciated at all!
All this, and more. Sometimes, I wonder why I do these things... tell people. But then, I do. I have seen that putting things out in the open tend to make them lose all their importance.
I got a few saved.
Heroic and-tic-lime-axe. (Macbeth)
More for gits, hmm? (Samson Agonistes)
Eminem and unconscious souls of Eliot perhaps shall rule. (The Autobiographical elements in Rap term paper)
Growing up, I had nose-picking moments. (Araby - James Joyce)
Ewes might not have udders. Who is to know? (erm, King Lear)
Fandays should be made. ( Grateful Dead presentation )
Porlock and Kubla are on simultaneous planes. (No prizes for guessing)
Quite western frontiers are never true. (Strangely, this is the English Patient )
Ah well... on the other hand, Mortification is the dish of the day. In fact it has been the dish for the last three days.
March 31, 2007
So there I was shouting at the top of my lungs : "Whose Kubla Ij It?" and smearing chocolate cake on general unsuspecting (and suspecting and appreciating a choco-facial) public who were equally maenadian in their gestures, and among the sound and the fury, I walked off to see 300.
I dont care what other people says, I loved it. It was the beauty of savagery in motion, and I liked every bit of it. Panu thought it was perhaps a tad too on the scary side, but it was all right until the hunky guy she liked lost his head (literally).
Home, heart filled with joy at the sight of my cousin, my Guru... I lay my head on her lap and inhaled the smoke-powdery sari and mild sweat flavour she wore on her. She is so cool and untouched, poised and benign. My first love, my first protector against the ministers of darkness.
And the night brought on something new. Panu found on her message box a friend request at orkut. What was interesting was, this person was NOT interested in scrapping. When asked, he gave the following reasons:
U have a point there - about the scrap heap of this life being already too littered!! Though never thought about it from quite that perspective. (But, my objection to the scrapbook is sort of related to it.) Obviously, it pays to interact with perceptive people! Well, I have a three-fold distaste for the scrapbook.First : The scrapbook is accessible to everyone and there is no privacy. Somehow, I am not comfortable about some third party( or parties - to make it worse) being a privy to what is essentially private communication - however innocuous - between two persons. (When I say 'I am not comfortable....', I 'd rather like to share a personal secret with u; I am more with the British in the penchant for understatement!) Second : I find the other connotations of scrap rather disturbing. Scrap as a verb is really abominable; I just can't think of scrapping anyone !! Scrap is not a word of choice for me here. And so .... I don't send scraps and I don't scrap anyone! (yea, it takes all sorts to make the world - particularly some quaint types!) Third : I find most entries in most scraps just that - a heap of scrap! And, I prefer more august company. (Pardon me if I sound too bloody egoistic!)
At this point, one must pause and think. And wonder.
Okk and I found a friend. One who loves music as much as I do, If not more.
March 19, 2007
And then the sky darkened, and rain fell, and they twisted in the middle of the big bed, clawing and fighting with each other, hurting each other and marvelling at the extent they could hurt if they really tried. They tore off their clothes, they did not care what went first, as long as they did. And then they were pushing each other, straining and restraining to prolong the contact, as if this was the last time they would. And he entered her and they shook and trembled at the intensity and friction... and then the short climb to ecstasy began, but it was more than that, it was a beginning and an end, and she could not stop her tears as he buried his face against her neck and trembles with the bliss and the joy. She mouthed the three words over and over and over again as he poured inside her the fruits of their passion, her legs spread obscenely wide in acceptance.
And then all stilled and she could feel the cold air hit her wet ears. She was so tired. So was he. They fell asleep. locked in the embrace as primitive as life itself, and when the morning came, he was gone.
* * *
Even before she opened her eyes, she knew he was gone.... there was just an emptiness beside her, a place was barren where her heart had placed him. It was strangely numb------ this feeling of loss. She could not really believe it was there at first, but then it hit her ------------- the cold. It struck her smack in the chest and she gasped pitifully and scoured her head to dredge up the thought of what to do next.
She was so tired.... she did not even know if she could open her eyes and face the day again. She just wanted to shut out the world and all and forget herself in sleep.
But at that moment, betrayal struck. Sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, but the cold that had spread inside her refused her the warm safety of slumber. It denied her the only escape she would have had. She stared at the ceiling and counted away the whirling time, as the morning passed to day and moved towards the afternoon, and she twisted her fingers and contemplated her loss. Soon she began to shake silently, that turned into a gentle sway------ to and fro----- to and fro------ as she came apart in her knowledge.
He was gone.
He was not going to come back.
And the tears did not fall. What fell so easily last night at the beauty did not fall in grief. She started to whimper but the tears did not fall. Soon she realized that there were no moisture seeping from her eyes.
It enraged her. It made her so angry that she began to scream ------ short, staccatto bursts erupted from her throat that changed quickly into high-pitched wails and shrieks of disbelief and denial.
Where were the tears? Why could she not cry? Why? Why why why?
She clutched the pillow and bunched it against her chest, bringing her knees up together as she lay on her side, her long hair spread on the pillow, her eyes widely open. She breathed rapidly, in short gulps she inhaled and released the air just as quickly. She was bewildered and angry. Where had all the tears gone? Why could she not cry it out? What was wrong?
And she heard the lady downstairs play on her ancient cassette player something familiar. Something that she had once listened to as a child-------- when her parents used to look at one another with a smile on their face, but refused to share the joke--------- and the shadows fell across the room from the window, making patterns on the tiles as the sun began to set.
"Maine poochha chaand se,
Ke dekha hai kahin
Mere Yaar sa Haseen.
Chaand ne kaha,
Chandni ki kasam,
Nahin, nahin, nahin.
The room was a mess. The books had fallen from her bed, clothes were randomly spilled in colourful puddles on the floor, dust had settled on her shelves, and an empty cup graced the nightstand. She got up, rubbed her eyes with the back of her left palm and yawned. Then she began to pick up the clothes and fold them into a neat pile. The song went on outside. She pushed aside the falling fringes of her hair as she worked, and slowly began to hum the tune.