I cried last night after a long time and prayed that someone called Puloma Baral was all right. Her mother was on the phone and I could not cry because she was and as she talked to me a life flashed before my eyes... in living colours I saw this girl who grew up with me and was the salient member of a gang which we would adoringly call Scarlet.
I have two friends: One at Taj and the other at The Oberoi, Mumbai. Sabrina was accessible and responded immediately to my query. Pulo was not. Her phone was switched off and her mother was hysterical.
We did not know what to do. All I did was stare at the TV to watch the destruction of faith. My friend told me that it made her stomach turn over to see it. I switched off the TV after I saw the hotel room on fire. I could not bear it, and to top it all, news came that five chefs were murdered, and since Puloma's a chef, we were terrified.
I hated the TV channels which try to show reality and end up dramatizing and not revealing the truth. I hate that news man who saw my friend run out of the hotel, with blood pouring out of her head and her ankle and never came to help, though she asked. I will not forgive that person who turned a blind eye (THE CAMERA) to her as she ran out and tried to find help. Now she is safe but what about those hours?
If I sound vengeful and angry, but its reaction, I know.
A Liar's Guide to the Dreams..
In the dead of the night, the dreams come in one by one. They cling to you with soft acceptance, and they know it all..
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.
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.
November 28, 2008
November 17, 2008
Randomly Mine...
He dies everynight in the darkened room,
His breath stifled by my unheard moans,
He dies every night with his silence,
He dies in shades of grey and muted tones.
* * *
I am the one
Who strangled your dry voice in the dead of the night
Against my pillow where you lay
Your short spiky hair pinning my pillow with their strength
As I pushed you,
Your strong arms flailing,
Your male lips gasping, I do not know
Whether it was ecstasy you felt,
Or your voice screamed for mercy as I dealt you with the denial
Of your breath.
His breath stifled by my unheard moans,
He dies every night with his silence,
He dies in shades of grey and muted tones.
* * *
I am the one
Who strangled your dry voice in the dead of the night
Against my pillow where you lay
Your short spiky hair pinning my pillow with their strength
As I pushed you,
Your strong arms flailing,
Your male lips gasping, I do not know
Whether it was ecstasy you felt,
Or your voice screamed for mercy as I dealt you with the denial
Of your breath.
Labels:
delusions,
Dreams,
madhouse cells,
muse,
poem
November 14, 2008
Got this off Peep's Blog. I did exactly what she said and closed my eyes and thought of books. And I ended up with four, but well, it never hurts to keep one extra just in case. I came up with:
1. Buro Angla - Abanindranath Thakur
2. The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupéry. Oh Lord, that was a Book to be reckoned with.
3. Devil's Cub - Georgette Heyer. One of those books that make me glad that I like Regency romances. Its fun to read.
4. Tintin: The Shooting Star - Herge.
I read the first one when I was 6. I re-read it countless times over the years. Same with the Tintin, which I owned, I lost, and I re-bought.
I remember falling in love with the Marquis of Vidal. Class XII. At my friend Ria's insistence I remember reading the book. I have not doubted her ever since.
The Little Prince was a book I read when I was quite old. Around 10. Cynical to the boots. And then came the lamb in the box. I was blown.
1. Buro Angla - Abanindranath Thakur
2. The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupéry. Oh Lord, that was a Book to be reckoned with.
3. Devil's Cub - Georgette Heyer. One of those books that make me glad that I like Regency romances. Its fun to read.
4. Tintin: The Shooting Star - Herge.
I read the first one when I was 6. I re-read it countless times over the years. Same with the Tintin, which I owned, I lost, and I re-bought.
I remember falling in love with the Marquis of Vidal. Class XII. At my friend Ria's insistence I remember reading the book. I have not doubted her ever since.
The Little Prince was a book I read when I was quite old. Around 10. Cynical to the boots. And then came the lamb in the box. I was blown.
November 13, 2008
November 2nd, 2008....
Dear ***,
Today I spent most of the day alone, sharing myself with cups of coffee and a television. Its strange when people tell you that you need some time some time alone to find yourself... and then never go away..... well, I think it does not work for me. I walk alone all the time. Despite my best friends and all, I know that I am alone, and I'm not really upset or afraid of it. Once I remember Chu speaking about it and I thought, for just a sec, maybe, just maybe, I was probably not cut out to be alone. But then I realized that I have been living it. And I like it way too much to actually settle down for sharing it. Maybe I'm too selfish to share myself now. Or its because I'm this alone and I don't think I'd like to change it. At 25, I am straight, happy and whole. It took me a long time to acknowledge, believe and understand that I was, but I am now quite pleased with the results. Its so simple... like solving an equation that you were too scared to work on because you thought you would fail. I realize that its not the world, its just my way. I shut people out. Because, after a while they begin to bother me and my space. I never say it. But I say something inane and let off. Maybe I am too dramatic here, but let me tell you something. Once You are aware that You don't need anyone but yourself with you, anyone sharing your space... You are ... free.
Today I spent most of the day alone, sharing myself with cups of coffee and a television. Its strange when people tell you that you need some time some time alone to find yourself... and then never go away..... well, I think it does not work for me. I walk alone all the time. Despite my best friends and all, I know that I am alone, and I'm not really upset or afraid of it. Once I remember Chu speaking about it and I thought, for just a sec, maybe, just maybe, I was probably not cut out to be alone. But then I realized that I have been living it. And I like it way too much to actually settle down for sharing it. Maybe I'm too selfish to share myself now. Or its because I'm this alone and I don't think I'd like to change it. At 25, I am straight, happy and whole. It took me a long time to acknowledge, believe and understand that I was, but I am now quite pleased with the results. Its so simple... like solving an equation that you were too scared to work on because you thought you would fail. I realize that its not the world, its just my way. I shut people out. Because, after a while they begin to bother me and my space. I never say it. But I say something inane and let off. Maybe I am too dramatic here, but let me tell you something. Once You are aware that You don't need anyone but yourself with you, anyone sharing your space... You are ... free.
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