Trials.

At this moment it is numbness partly and part hysteria inside me. A part of me cannot still come to terms with the fact that you are gone. Whatever you were, I loved you. With all my soul I did. I don’t apologize for it; neither do I hurt because of it. Truth be told, a part of me will perhaps always love you because it is fated for me to love you. I cannot help but love someone who is so much a part of me that I do not miss you really. Any moment I want to talk to you or be with you I can actually, because I know what you would say or you would do, and all I need to do is believe.

But there is another part of me here. It is that part which initially balked at the thought of going away from you. It was the part which was afraid and tired, a part that hated getting all her fears realized. But then again, it has been done to me over and over again. All the world tells me that there is someone who loves me intensely and I feel it inside me, the bond, that I know would not tear away. We are soul mates, and you know it too. I used to think that all the others were inside me, but you, you have become me and I have become you, and I know that you would not meet, love, or call me because you dare not. We are too narcissistic for each other, my love, because we are each other.

Just as I know now that in some part of this world you exist now. You don’t live, because you cannot live without me, just like I cannot live without you, but existence is there for both of us. We are hurt, torn and sad, but it won’t stop us from knowing that the bond would be there. I would reach inside me and pull you out, and you would pull me out and show me to others, but keep what I really am inside you because you won’t share the real thing with anyone, just as I won’t share the real you with anyone.

This moment, I feel the tie, I feel your call. And I know that with one call I can resolve the issue. But this time I would not call you because if we are fated to be together, then we will. I am strong enough to realize that in this life I will be buffeted by fate, chance and other misdemeanor; a healer’s natural accompaniments.

I am not running away. I am going because I think it will help me heal myself if I go away for a while, and it will heal you too.

Inshallah. If god wills, I will see you, love you and believe in you once again.

The Time

Yes, the times are a'changing. I never really realized or appreciated how much times are a'changing, till I checked my blog and saw that nearly six years have passed since I began blogging. I began it with a few JUDEans and I never really paid much thought to what was going in there. It was, truthfully speaking, a place where I made some noise. Because I like Attention. Hence the name Panu. Jaar Maane, if you are a non-Bengali, you would NOT understand.

Its easy for me to leave the blog and go. Very easy. But it is not easy to pick up from a phrase and begin again, which I don't want to do. This blog is not ended here, just an infrequent writer's infrequent visits to a place which stinks of old memories and friends who used to make her happy. Now Panu no longer knows whether those friends come or not.... the comments, the footfall are nearly gone.

Okay, sorry, melodrama. Its just me pouting because no one commented on the last few posts.

To Do...

Or Not! It's always the same question. Depression and paranoia creates a tale of tragedy inside the head which is often confusing, irrational and eerily stupid, but you still want to do it because once upon a time you thought it was super cool to have another someone inside your head. And now that certain someone in her Über snooty voice tells you that you were, like always, WRONG.

Tearing Up The Page

At this moment I am deleting you from me. But then again, rubbing you off would not make me forget the lessons I have learned from you. And it pains me to see you now, because you would never be able to measure up to what you lost.

Welcome to your new life my love. You are welcome to it.

I cannot rub the page out of my life. But I can tear it. Because tearing it off is more violent and destructive and at this moment I feel the ruination running through my veins. I would like to eat you up and ingest you. But then again, you shall think that is too much of my passion and you are too afraid of me anyway.

So Run Away. Run Run as fast as you can. Because I won't follow. Not this time. Not this time.

Conversing with You

Me: its different when you start a story
but now we are ending it.
isn't it painful when a story ends? when the end is thrust upon you?
i dont know whether i am prepared to say it is over or not. but there's nothing more painful to end something.

You: nope it gives a few system bots to make a procession or a party to remember the dead soul and thus kill time in the process..

Me: not the literal, but the figurative death
would we ever come to terms with the concept of end?
its so... final.

You: there is no end ..

Me: but there is. there is. every moment is an end in itself. dont you hate it when you end like that?

You: nope there is no end ..you will soon be born again and then grinding again ..

Me: i dont know. but that birth wont be this
that me wont be this one
i want to not end this human life that i am. but there is no way to immortalize me
i am ending every moment i stay here
You: your life is a movie nothing more..
you are acting under the hope of your dreams and happiness which you will never find ..

Me: I am nothing. Less than nothing. And dreams.

The Bhardikt ij IN

Kolkata's Green!

Being Private About It

Evidently, I was wrong when I assumed men liked privacy. It seems, when you, the soul of sobriety that you are, do not touch their fingers in public, make them bristle with anger and shake with rage. They claim revenge, and call you names, and think that the love is gone. One even went so far as to say ---

"I think I am pregnant."

Me: But I thought we used all forms of protections, especially the verbal ones!

Him: I know, but it seems that I am.

I was mortified. "Am I the father?", I asked him.

Him: I'm not sure yet.

Me: What? You've been sleeping around!! Kultaaa!!!

And this is the reason why men can be tedious, boring, annoying, but still adorable.

ABC's

I am so in love with this song. I can nearly feel the insane rhythms to my bones. It is almost a relief to note that there are others who love love love this song too. This one's dedicated to my darling peep.

Check out the youtube link


Here's the lyrics too.

ABC's - Knaan feat Chubb Rock

Bundle up my whole style is so cold
I glow like old guys who go bald
My flow got no front in the vocal
Your flow got no button its so old

I don't mean to sound like a showboat
But it's true my persona's no joke
I stepped into some kinda portal
I'm legend and sometimes I'm noble

I'm from the most risky zone - oh
No place is more shifty global
More pistols, Russian revolvers
We shootin' all that is normal

But it ain't just because we want to
We ain't got nowhere we can run to
Somebody please press the undo
They only teach us the things that guns do

Chorus
They don't teach us the ABCs
We play on the hard concrete
All we got is life on the streets
All we got is life on the streets
(repeat)

(Chubb Rock)
Rock, you know my era
B-boy seasoning, salt -n- pepa
Grown and sexy, come with the extra
Crushed up linen, fly like sess-a
This type brew I gave it birth
Now it's time again to give it a verse
Jamaican born, not a fan of the ganja
______ Brooklyn to Somalia
And it goes in the background
Playa, that is my sound
The green doesn't symbolize I made it on the top
Pioneer legend, and they call me Mr. Rock
No B word or N word, I don't need those words (no)
Respect for hers
The game dried up, so we come with the grease
Leadin' ya right and treatin' ya right, so peace

Chorus

Superman is known by the locals
As this dude who's so fly it's global
Attitude that came outta struggle
Destitute but I make it hopeful

You real, but my real is tenfold
My real'll make yours a rental
Gangsta if at ease, essential
Fight with guns or utensils

So bold nothin's confidential
Breakfast was not continental
And lunch could not compliment all
We still become competent souls

These streets ain't paved with no gold
Matter fact someone stole the light bulb
Nobody fat enough for lypo
They don't teach us to read and write, so...

Time flies like an arrow

Fruit flies like bananas.

Doesn't Saying Sorry Help?

I don't know. I just tried it. It does not work apparently.

It is still not alright. How can I make it better? How can I make it better? I ask myself over and over again.

Oh no, oh no ohno.... I will lose another friend. I cannot lose another friend. I cannot. It is going to be too much for me to bear it this time. How can I breathe? I cannot breathe now... I cannot breathe if I lose you. But don't you know you are a part of me now, and parts of me cannot be broken apart like that?

Don't break me. Don't break me.

Just. Please. Don't.

I've Just Had A Shop Day.

And I'm BUSHED with capital everything.

Enclosing Comment

"Wouldn't the world be great if we could all have what we deserved? But then, you deserve a slap and I deserve chocolates. And both of us are getting exactly what we deserve."

JInx

I met my Mado today. She was given a ring.

Oh well, another one of my conquest.

Rhyming.

The page quivers in silence,
Angry scratches pour in
Astounding is the way I rape defile the purity
Of the fine white planes.

These words are maudlin
Written on my body and
Angst pouring in the finer tip
Of the revolting pen.

Strangely enough
It feels like the purgatory is
Waiting for the emotions and memories
To connect midnight with desires stirred once

Yes, now, yes, now, now
The page is torn in half
And the ink congeals
On the superficial words
The ink glares back at me
Unwilling to admit the perpetration it has committed.

I stare at the paper.
Fool! Fool! Fool! Betrayer!

Yapping Along...

Dear Readers,

This is a post on disclaimers incidents. It is indeed well in the second decade of the new millennium and my blog remains happily overwhelmed by random acts of violence, passionate proclamations and insulting usage of Americanized English which Firefox seems to allow solo (Actually, the technically challenged part of me is too lazy to switch from Eng US to Eng UK because I want to keep my spellings correct and American... and because I hate seeing the red alert underlining my summarised when I write it that way). I don't know why, but the red seem to censure my act, and so I stand chastened by a browser. I wish I'd switched to Google Chrome (YES SAPTARSHI, I DID, BUT I LIKE MY OLD FAITHFUL BECAUSE I CAN DOWNLOAD VIDEOS BETTER HERE).

A few days or a lifetime ago, I was walking down JUDE with a jar of chocolate paste and hapless victims who were willing to be my guinea pigs. It had interesting results.

And then another day I decided to go for a walk with Saptarshi and Arka and talked our heads off about food. I love it when I can talk heads off about something I really like and can talk to someone about it.

I realize that I do not speak/talk inside my house, except for giving instructions or screaming insults.

I decided to cook up the perfect batch of Chocolate paste the other day. It finally gor right after three tries. All volunteers are hereby thanked.

The new year woke me up with a bang, literally. At ten in the morning some idiots were setting up a "milan mancha" (Honestly, as if they've never seen each other or hurled abuse and garbage on them!!) and started playing "Aye mere vatan ke Logo" and such. I, deluded for a second, said, "Happy Independence Day??" Sayani apparently replied: "Gandu!" and promptly turned over and snored some more.

Catering is fun. Pablo, I am thankful to you for making me realize there is YET another job I can easily take up (of course I am doing it on the sly, but still... a full time job!! )

I gave Dhruva a surprise. He was. Very much.

Despite knowing everything and doing so much, I have realized something this year. This blog is about me. Me. Me. I. I. And its going to be this way. As long as I feel like.

And here are a few trivial piece of nothing that you learnt about me today.

By the by, American English does not recognize LEARNT (which they spell LEARNED) and recognises FUCK. Just an observation.

Happy New Year

And I adore love you Adam Lambert.

A Thing of Beauty

They say, you can never be too rich or too skinny.

Or, can you?

I remember a friend of mine telling me that she wanted to be slimmer because someone she knew thought that slimmer people looked smart.

I ask... what is the quotient of smartness in comparison to body weight? One of the most incredible women I have ever met in my life weighs way over average but still manages to make people's head turn when she walks in... not because of her body, but because of a pair of eyes and a face that can literally impose and command... like in the battles lost and won once upon a time.

Most men I have met have agreed that so-called "HOT" is actually very temporary a phase which soon phases out. Like the moment, it wears off once the person in question opens her respective mouth.

Beauty... is a mere myth, quickly lost in the haze of the person.

I consistently see women growing overweight in a vicious circle of self-denial. The whole I-AM-FAT-BUT-I-SHALL-DIET-BUT-TOMORROW is not something that is healthy. You see, after nearly ten years of failed attempts at DIETING, I realized that thats bull. There is no such thing. All I had to do was eat right.

But what was right? What was right for me might not be so for someone else. For example, eating a lot in the morning, and consistently slow down as the day progresses works wonders on me, but might not on someone else.

So what to do??

I have a vague feeling that we women are never satisfied with the way we look. I do not know even ONE woman who is *perfectly* happy with the way she looks, and that is scary. The condition of women to be "a thing of beauty" has led us to objectify and imitate what we *supposedly* do not possess. Yet the myth of being PRETTY leads us on a rat race of being on the *lookers* list.

What list? Who Determines them? How do we determine what is the best look for a woman?

I do not think that there are any *correct* answer here. All I want to think is that as long as we are not physically harming ourselves, we can be, like the proverbial Bacardi, what we want to be, and with my blessings, too.

Mandakini

Of course, this might sound like a post on the 80s. It is not, though my formative years were shaded with the voluptuous heroine, famed for her beautiful white face, with pink smudges all over. She was supposed to be the image of distinct prettiness, and kaka thought she was the prettiest girl in the world.

No wonder I did not like her much.

So I was coming back from work the other day and suddenly found my driver on his knees beside my car. Curious, I went in to see exactly why was he prostrate, and realized that this little, tiny black critter was under the damn car. The lights made it impossible for me to understand the species of my intended, but I brought it down to a cat or a puppy.

However, long moments of coaxing followed, followed by cajoling, and ultimately insults and poking. To no avail. The "dear, sweet thing" as my driver claimed, refused to exit.

Frustrated to no end, I exclaimed: "Dhur Nyaka Mondakini, Bero!!" ("Just get out, you pretentious Mondakini!" Yes, I know. Translation does not work here, does it??)

Wonder of wonder, miracle, miracle.

She came out.

So after that, I generally found her at my doorstep, which is quite a distance from her litter. She's the runt of the group, detested by her mum. So of course, I sometimes feed her.

Okay, I feed her quite often...

And I realized she likes my shoes. I am now the owner of three pairs of torn strappy slippers, thanks to a mouthful of busy teeth which loves nipping at me, going underfoot, and generally following me like the proverbial lamb of Mary (Which, if Mary was wise, she should have used to make a mean profit at the slaughterhouse). She also has become the light of my students' lives, who love having her with them, and brings her biscuits. Once the runt, she's become quite an expert manipulator. Even my personal mum falls for her. Dyammit.

Which is a problem. Of course, she is after my life. I am gracefully bearing it.

A song with no name for lack of imagination

janish janish janish. I love you.

just toldyou because I feel so confused and tired and I dont know maybe if my life wasn't going down the drains like it is now

I would not be sniffing and crying in front of the comp right now trying to picture your face in my mind's eye, and just feeling helpless. s****ms****m isn't it just a drearypainful thing to be helpless, knowing there's no one just no one who's out there to save you?

and yes, rescue syndrome is on.

but I can't help stop the visions of paradise. why why whyandwhy am i feeling like this i dont know. just tell me that i am not alone i am not alone feeling lonely and pained because the man i love is showing me pictures of another woman in throes of an orgasm.

I cant i canticant take this. dont ask me where the pain is going.

I dont know but i will probably go mad if i haven't already. tell me just tell me that i am not alone. i cant get no happiness re. no happiness. keno jani na keno jani na.


In the years to come, this shall be a memory too.

As a Friend said...

I walk like I am on a hunt. Its intimidating to unsuspecting males/females.

This is the same woman who once told me she considers her body to be a burden sometimes. With its millions of problem.

I looked in the mirror today and found those extra curves in my butt and around my waist and on my arms. I realized that I don't mind them.

When I was growing up, my body was one of the most mysterious things I knew. Far from unraveling and exploring it, I shied away from the mirror, covered myself in clothes far too large for my body, and put on glasses. I greased my hair with coconut oil, and refused to feel pretty. Too miserable in my own gloom, I used to think I was unlovable and that was the way it was going to be. Thanks to the upper body that refused to subside. Or the lower body that never seemed to get "right".

I grew up under the shadow of my mother. Literally.

The family unanimously agreed on her prettiness. She was the very beautiful woman. I used to think so too. My mother was, and probably always shall remain, the most beautiful woman I know.

But I never found her to be the most incredibly attractive woman. Strangely enough, the definition of a firm cheekbone attracted me far more than the delicate turn of an eyebrow, and the strength in a staunch pair of shoulders made me feel more happy than a submissive pair of downcast eyes. I grew up to stare at my self in the mirror, squaring my shoulders, lifting my chin, and walking on straight, without an apology for being who I was. All beginning at age 15 when I realized I needed to be proud, and not ashamed of what I was and who I was.

And thus began the walk. I still walk, shoulders squared, straight, without apology. I know that my body has thousands of problems in it, fitness and otherwise, but I somehow realize that they are all mine.

And I am quite proud of it.

Mixing logic

Ever thought what does it take to mix with the rest of the world?

This post should have been named mucous. What with all the hacking cough and slimy nostrils, The Panu is sick with it all. However, The Sister still rises. Over and over again through the night, and comes to plague her hapless Older One with seemingly endless question that end with Hentai.

Beastly Tales...

She is in the mists somewhere. In this darkness which she calls her home, her mind and her body mingles together in the cold rain that falls through the night. The moon is hidden there... in the darkness nothing is visible, so the sound of the rain falling hits the ear with a dull dripping prolonged note that has been stretched too long, trilling and tripping on its way.

She stares at this darkness that permeates parts of her. But parts of her refuse to be in the dark. They spread out, run out, the colours of the night barely hide the mad glints of her eyes, white as snow, still and terribly still as they focus on the prey that lurks in the darkness.

Slowly she moves through the mists, the darkness often cuts through to reveal the pale gleam of a ring, or the flash of feral teeth.

Slowly, and slowly she closes on her prey. She nears and nears and nears.

And then she pauses.

For there the Julychildren sat, staring at the laptop first, then suddenly looking up and an impish grin spread as they quietly closed the lid of the computer and ordered a glass of Appletini.

And hence ended the morbid tale that never was.

I'm Working... I Am!!

As a lot of people who don't read this blog shall observe... I am a workaholic.

I say... I just love my work.

Denial

There's something

In a broken piece, that feels

As fragile as china, as precious as gold

Yet

I left my self running in the streets where

You once pretended

That nothing went wrong

And I look now in your precious eyes

And see nothing

Feel nothing

Think nothing

For no thing can think nothing.

The worlds are blankly staring

As your wild eyes glaze over me and find an empty space

And no, no, no, you ingested me well enough

To know these 'no's actually mean nothing

Anymore.


Since I am now beyond that

Why not sit with a glass of wine,

And see, see? There's nothing left to feel about,

What I once was, now is roaming in the darkened streets of this city

Following your shadows

And chasing your dreams.

Dream a Little...

I found my first diary today. It came from an era when I was a child... and I wrote down my dreams.

On a strange turn of thoughts, I decided to write down my present dreams.

I could not write them... the pen scrolled down meaningless letters that never made sense to me.

untold.

Pyaar ye jaane kaisa hai

Kya kahein ye kuchh aisa hai

Kabhi dard ye deta hai kabhi chein ye deta hai

Kabhi gam deta hai kabhi khushi deta hai


Oh god.

Closure

It says, life always brings you to a full circle. When I was a little girl with ambitions to become a dog trainer someday, I dreamt of swanning inside the premises of my school with all the teachers staring at the exceptionally well-behaved dogs accompanying me. In class VIII, somewhere in the midst of Deepika Ma'am's class, the dogs got transformed to humans. My teacher told me to be strong and pursue my dreams. And I dreamt of reading storybooks all my life, and explain the stories to people.

I didn't even know when my storybooks were exchanged for the heavier tomes of commercial gains. I choked myself in them. Whatever was new to me got lost in the heavy dullness of mathematical precision. I wanted to close my eyes and fade far away.

Then came the time when I reacted. I refused to continue my miseries further and decided to do what I wanted to do. Xavier's was my saviour. The enormous halls enclosed me in their safety and I got lost in the thousands of books I began to sample. I was poorer than a church mouse and loved it. It seemed like a whirlwind, the three years I spent there. JU was surreal and I was bemused and dazed for being suddenly thrown into a world where work beckoned.

And so I worked.

And then came a time when I moved back. I got a call and I was going back to school.

Only this time, when I pass a student, he says, "good morning ma'am."

My teachers, the severe critics of my childhood, sing praises and welcome me with open arms.

I am 25. I just went back to school. Its changed, yes. So have I. And now I can finally look at the days of my life in school without cringing in fear or shock. Now I accept it.

Follow Me Home...

A cat.

Which has had kittens last night.

Reminds me of the times when my mother was pregnant again and EVERYONE said "It'll Be a Boy!!" except me who was frightened out of all wits thinking if it was a boy then he'd beat me mercilessly, like my friend was beaten up by her baby brother.

That along with the usual male-phobia a 10 year old can muster.

I don't think having a sister improved the situation much. For a long time now The Sister's been practicing her Tae Kwon Do on me.

Here is the point where I say: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR. Etc.

I belong to a place...

Where people actively try to brain others if those unfortunate others display the slightest hint of homophobia. They go after them with verbal pitchforks and try to kill them for being 'unnatural', blackball them for having the thoughts of an average human being not really exposed to the core of same-sex relationship.

And I personally detest those people for deliberately terrorizing in order to suppress their own dubious feeling about the matter, thanks to which they scream for legalizing same-sex relationships; while at the other hand, if someone who is allegedly homosexual communicates with another member of his/her own sex, then immediately he/she is accused of hitting on someone.

I somehow detest the attitude of apparent free-spiritedness, which underlies a mean-minded, narrow, vicious attitude which I find insincere and confused, to use polite terms.

Bigotry seems to be set everywhere.

I used to love running when I was a kid.

It was one of the things I was good at.

Then came asthma, rattling coughs and wheezes, and those moments of the wind tearing through my hair stopped.

I love car rides. I can put my head out of the window and watch the world rush by.

I wanted to run. Once. Away away away.

But then, there was that asthma again.

Sometimes I wonder if I hide behind it or not.

Sometimes I know I do. Not sure of the certainties of it all.

And there's this part, and I know I would love to run again. But what to do when my will to run is lost? What to do when I realize that this whole time I was wishing to run, I was trying to talk myself in circles and coming back to where I came from?

Something is wrong here. Something is wrong.

This road wasn't supposed to circle. It was supposed to open out. Where did I go wrong?

Righteous Outrage

The state has finally lost it. I mean this as a small post where I lament the fact that our intellectual heads are somehow deep in the murky depth of dense misunderstanding which hinders us from moving forward.

I think I have to say it because I see thousands of people poring over their TV channels, trying to explain how the BUDDHIJIBI people of West Bengal are telling the whole world that "people from the location" say that the Police is brutal and are attacking us", completely overlooking the point that these so-called people are all part of those who are fighting the forces, the perpetrator of the cruelties that has not only been the part and parcel of the place over the last eight months, but for the last four years.

And the worst bit is, what these idiots do not understand is that any moment one of those people of the village can come and take one of them (or all of them) hostage and demand safe passage.

Not that the world would mind the loss of some of those.

When I was Ten

I had a cousin who'd follow me around like a little lost lamb saying "Fun-di" because he could not pronounce my name. I used to spend summer vacations with my kid cousin trying to teach him to catch flies and burp. Not elegant, certainly... but I was never very elegant in the first place. We would go up to the roof with a handful of stolen pickles and sit together with other cousins of mine, all older, and play fierce games of hide-and-seek (I ended up with a bloody nose once... so there!) and Ludo. He was too young to play Ludo so he was always on my side.

When I was Fourteen we realized my cousin was not like other kids. He was different. Because at Six, he could not do things which boys of Three could do. Slowly we discovered that he had Ataxia, a form of Cerebral Palsy, and he was, what can be commonly called, Spastic.

He never gave up. He had a problem with balance and eye movement but he was smart and studied privately and we were teaching him things to do. He had worked and studied, and began to listen to books being read out to him.

He almost made it.

But well, life was not really very sympathetic. Five months after his 18th birthday, his kidneys gave way, and he went into a coma. The doctor discreetly told us that it was very difficult to find a kidney donor for an abnormal boy.

Last night he died. His heart could not take it.

Everyone was saying what a relief it was. For him and his parents. The burden finally released.

Through the blind haze of pain, I just walked out of my filthy house.

Apparently work is work....

And my blog has been called "dumb". By a friend who thinks its high time I give up.

As told recently in a conversation between friends, two of my friends have got jobs in the same company under the same boss and they apparently are yelling at each other because apparently P is saying "Thank you" when S had slaved over the solution and vice versa.

In other news, I have recently been thinking about dirty Bengali swear words. And a friend has been trying to teach some of them to non-bongs who just does not do it right.

And well, there has been an incident where a friend of mine apparently propelled a car with her puke. This means, she helped speed up the car by retching up a storm of slime from her gullet.

And oh, I have been thinking of going to Delhi in this heat.

The Grandmother thinks my blog picture is scary. I don't agree however.

Yes, well, never thought my blog was very smart, either.

There are in my blog plenty of posts on friends.

There are a few about family.

Today there's going to be one where I can tell you that I am blessed with a family of my own choosing.

Somehow as this dark night slowly dawns to this day I would like to tell you how beautiful the moments are when you know you are among people who will look at you, find and point out all the problems you have, and then, say... "So What?" to all of them and love you no matter what you are.

Once, I used to be in constant feat that I was the outsider. But these amazing people brought me in. And made me feel a warm touch somewhere near the core of what I am. It happens when someone just casually says... "You can't go to Europe, you'll have to come to America because we're all there and we're together. The three of us." And its there when someone scolds your head off saying..."Uff how random are you!" and at the same breath utter... "Never be anything else... I love you.". And then there are times when someone gives you the tightest hug in the world that threaten to crush your bones and say "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." And the times when you're on the other side of the phone jumping because I've got something I need.

I love my family. I love them. They're what I want to have.

Friends...

Its horrible when they betray you.

Its just horrible.

Well I have been planning this

Apart from the mass hysteria posts and the "I'm upset" posts and random tags, I have been basically sitting on my bum doing nothing ever since I quit my job. I don't like the politics, and unlike certain people, would rather leave than compromise. I have an issue with attitude and ego-talk, and sexual discrimination, and I prefer moving in safe (read unemployed) waters. People might say I am talking tosh, but well, they are allowed their opinions.

Some times I wonder what this whole shebang is. I mean, I come here, take a deep breath, and begin, and go away, letting that deep breath go. All the miracles of birth I guess. Can I please pause to review what have I been up to?

*Pause. Inspect. Done*

Okay. A lot. I am preening now.

It hurts at first.

But then you learn to dull it. After a while it dulls. And then it slowly goes numb.

But it comes when you are weak and at your most vulnerable, and it shakes you up, pounds your senses so hard that you writhe in the pain.

And then it slowly dulls again.

You can't really tuck it in a corner and forget it. Its always there. Even in a meaningless dream.

Movied Life.

Got this off Spanish Goth.

So here are the rules:-

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie. Though I know everyone will cheat.


Opening Credits:

Help I'm A Rock - Zappa (Would someone delete all the Zappa songs from my playlist? Pretty please? This is like the beginning of a sarcasm-parade!!)

Waking Up:

Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-a-lot (Okay I can see this movie becoming a porn)

First Day At School:

Gia Farrell - Hit Me Up (Tap-dancing."Cant you see me walking through the door?" Yep. This is going to be a porn. I can see it)

Making Your New Best Friend:

Fall Our Boy - Thanks for the Memories (so my new best friends are monkeys)

Falling In Love:

Cranberries - Zombie (I mean... Hello!! Whats in your Head?)

Breaking Up:

Juelz Santana - There it go (the Whistle song) (Cheez Whiz!!)

Prom:

Rock and roll Soniye - Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna (Very apt. I will dance to that.)

Graduation:

Avril Lavigne - Complicated (Cause you fall and you crawl?? NO! NO! NO!)

Life's Okay:

Bananarama - Venus (Yes, again this movie is going towards porn)

Death of a Close Friend:

REM - Everybody Hurts (Freaky. But true.)

Mental Breakdown:

Fat Boy Slim - Yamama (TOTALLY!! This Will be My Song if I ever have a breakdown)

Driving:

Elvis Presley - A little Less Conversation (Feat. JXL)

Flashback:

Sting - Brand New Day (WHOA FREAKY!!!)

Getting Back Together:

Jay-Z - 99 problems (but a bitch ain't none)

Wedding Scene:

Poets of the Fall - Carnival of Rust

Birth of Child:

Bally Sagoo - Gur Nalon Ishq Mitha (I can't believe I have that song)

Car Accident:

Gwen Stefanie - What you waiting for?

Final Battle

Will Smith - Getting Jiggy With It (Again, the final moral of the story will probably exude porn)

Death Scene:

Monty Python - I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts

Funeral Song:

Westlife - World of our Own (eki!!)

End Credits:

Queen - Its a kind of Magic (I think to make this flick soundtrack work it will take magic.)

For anyone who cared to see this... I think my life is brilliant.

I love my friends enough to take bullcrap from them. Even when it means I cannot tell someone what a completely supercilious twit he/she is, giving me the holier-than-thou act. Somehow I sense this deep sense of total insecurity in him/her that says that he/she is so unhappy to make his/her choice of path in life that he/she has to put up this front to think he/she is happy.

I feel sorry and that's why I let him/her get away with all that he/she says about me. Which is not nice, so as to tell.

Shows I have a holier-than-thou fixation too.

So well.

Back on track I guess.

I'm tired, awake, and terrified.


I cannot sleep. When I sleep my nightmares wake me.

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.


---------------------------------------- Pablo Neruda

These fragments I have shored against my ruins...

"Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?"

---------------Eliot.

I follow the light and darkness is never further from me. I live my life like a lovesick clown in a bittersweet cartoon. I merge myself in the darkened alleys where I search for sudden piercing screams that fragments the silence that now chillingly wraps itself around my soul.

And I ask myself what I have become. And I constantly feel the dread and the despair which folds my self up with this haze of pain and forgetfulness.

And all I need is to be free.

Well....

I get by with a little help from my friends.

It seems hard but I know that I won't be getting this set of friends who roam around in my mind all the time. I will miss them like hell when I stop looking after them, but life is not about making regrets. Its all about making these little memories... which cling like a silver foil, etching and beautifying.

I suddenly know that I am all right now. I may be a lot of things. But these moments... these memories keep me on. People will leave, but they will leave me with the memory that I will have of them. And in this fleeting life of mine that does not even matter mostly I shall have this... and I don't want any more right now.

Of Instilled Ideas

Some people are biased. Some people possess ideas. A friend of mine holds knowledge to be the ultimate key to find happiness. Another believes that intelligence is the best way to assess a human being.

I would like to take this opportunity to let people know that I have been familiar with extremely intelligent people, and have realized they are just as gullible and stupid as those who decided that intelligence was not their forte.

In some places, I have been called rough, crude and vulgar. In some other, stupid has been the order of my day. But I like the term obtuse. I like it because it can lead into so many different conclusions.

While I do not like passing judgments right and left, I do believe that some people make friends with the "Right", the "Intelligent", the "Cool" and the "Happening" and they refuse to see people who does not go with their formed opinions. I have met people who have judged (among others) me and dismissed, and I have taken real pleasure in making them re-analyze and revise their opinion about me. Gives me a perverse pleasure to see people who at first glance would turn away, turn back and smile or even hold their houses open for me to enter.

Somehow this is turning into a slightly bitter post. Its just that, I really hate people who boxes others up into tiny slots based on their race, sex, nationality, individuality, personality and colour.

mandy again...

1. what was the last thing you bought from woolies?

Whats Woolies?

2. what's your relationship status?

I have a life. And someone to call my own.


3. the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

The person.

4. do you have a best friend of the opposite sex?

I do. Three.

5. do you keep in touch with ex's?

Totally. Love them, in fact.

6. favourite film?

Singin' In The Rain

7. play an instrument?

Taanpura according to the raga

8. favourite two bands?

Poets of the Fall and Grateful Dead.

9. favourite two artists?

Neil Gaiman and Goya

10. favourite artist?

Kon Khane mairi? Okay, this is easy. Sister.

11. tell us something that will surprise people about you.

I am stupid.

12. some things you wished you could do more with:

Life. More and More of it.

13. do you write?

yes. When I feel like it.

14. where would you like to live?

Near the beach. In a shack.

15. eye colour:

brown.

16. what did you think of school?

I loved mine.

17. anything you're trying to learn at the moment?

Yes. Salsa.

18. do you have a tattoo?

Yes.

19. what book are you reading at the moment?

After the Funeral. Agatha Christie

20. what are you listening to at the moment?

Days go by.


21. do you own any foreign language films?

Yes. Autumn Sonata.

21. how many languages do you speak?

English, Bengali, Hindi, Bhojpuri, and a bit of Spanish.

22. the last show you went to?

Don't remember. Okay. Onko.

23. favourite flower?

Roses


24. hugs or kisses?

Both. From right people.

25. icecream flavour?

Choco-mint.

26. who is the most famous person you've met?

Amartya Sen.


27. one hope for the year?

I should find what I am looking for.

28. the wisest thing you’ve ever heard?

Don't remember.

29. the last time you were drunk?

Last Christmas.

30. biggest hero?

Don't wanna tell.

31. favourite colour?

Black. And Red. And Blue.

32. things you hate?

So many.

33. something precious to you?

My friends.

34. a guilty pleasure?

Chocolates.

35. a piece of personal advice?

I loved a love once, fairest among all. You are not that.

Typecasts

Or people who are put in boxes.

So someone told me over lemon tarts last night. Black beans are supposed to be good for your health and eating a lean chicken breast everyday will decrease your weight. All this and more I learnt.

Andro called and we were going over the last months between the two of us. Somehow, these last months have flown by and I am officially in the fourth month of my work and have missed work for god knows how long but its okay because I am depressed anyway and its been a long day for me for quite some time now.

But what I realized was she's not changed a bit. But perhaps I have. I have changed myself and its been a continuous process for a while now. Its probably me growing up.

* * *

Someone asked me "Why are you not married?"

I answered, "Because I have found people I can live with, but no one I can live without."

It was an old quote. But I believe in it.


* * *

Randomness is perhaps the order of the day. Sometimes I wonder why is it so important to make things last and stretch beyond their limits. I was so angry a few days ago. I wrote a letter about it to friends, and I am putting up bits of it.

I watched as a guy threw his wife of 5 years out of the house while his girlfriend watched with a little smile on her face. And I had to talk to that frightened, hysterical, pathetic (yes, and i know its true, so there!) woman who took shelter with us for the night. My mother was thankfully not home. I hope this guy dies a most remarkable death one day, slowly and steadily, knowing every moment he is going to, and frightened of it. I can't think of a worse fate for him and i don't think i want to sully my thoughts by thinking of killing this fat, ugly monster. I do not care what she was to him or why he did what he did... but no woman deserves this. No Human Being to be precise.

But Do you know what she wanted? She wanted to beg her husband to come back to her. She could not believe that he was doing this to her but she wanted to beg to stay in that house, irrespective of the mistress. I was SO THANKFUL they do not have kids.

I somehow now feel quite detached about the whole incident. It has ceased to affect me. Now.

Elope with me Miss Private...

And then Chucky gave me a song that went around my head like crumbed chicken in a big vatful of lard. I have been fantasizing about KFC and its not good. I have been also fantasizing about big packets of sinful rich Valhrona which is kept with the Mother while she waits for me to get well from my sickness.

Damn it, I wish I was better already!

In Search of Protection

So a certain Someone told me... Girls should be liberated enough to be protected themselves, and therefore find and get protection whenever required.

"Okay then " I said. "Lets Go."

This certain Someone walked with me tonight to find it.

Here beginneth the epic tale of Panu's Quest for the Divine Protection:

So off we went... me and my friend...

Not in the locality. That was too obvious.

So we went to anonymity.

Episode One:

Pantaloons.


Goddamit!! S said.... they have sanitary napkins but I can't bleeding find them!!

"Thats because you are looking at the cookie section."

"I swear I found them here the last time."

"You never came here before!! You said that!"

"I did at Big Bazaar! They had!"

"Fine!!"

No go. Food, tissues, detergents, pencil-rubber... every section was meticulously looked into. No protection.

Disgusted and annoyed, I approached the sales lady. She was equally clueless, and her mortified pink cheeks were festoons of our temporary withdrawal.


Episode Two:

Jeevan

Jeevan. Ah the Portal of Trusted Life. Bring me the Protection!!

We walked with happiness as the light poured forth from the wide doors. I approached cautiously, with S at my heels.

And there were Old Men.

And there were Middle Aged Women with Shawls and Glasses.

I walked away with S. The Portal of Life was closed to us.


Episode Three

The UNKNOWN STORE

Disheartened, I moved with S to the grounds where she would find a chariot home.

We walked and we walked down the empty road.

And then we heard footsteps.

Men approached.

"Whatta Bum man!"

And my Great Rage began to build up. So did my Determination. I was going to be Protected or Else!!

And then.... Then There was the Store.


Episode Four:

The Purchase

We walked to The Store. There was a Young Boy trying to buy a Cure for Cold. And we waited patiently till we were served.

And we demanded for Whisper.

And then delicately put forth our need.

And met with Perplexity.

The man stared at us and said...

" I am sorry. We do not have that brand."

Nooooooooooooo!!

To be brought this far... and Spurned!!

We were Disheartened. Our Goal seemed Far away. Far Far away.

And then the man said... "However, we do have Something Else!!"

So we made The Purchase. And we were given a concession for our efforts.

And the man Looked as we were Shielded.

And then We truimphantly went Home.

Episode Five:

The Aftermath

Now that we were well protected, we let the story unto others. Women of all times, hear our plight and Protect Thyself. For in Protection you can Rely. And in Protection you can Prevent.

And here endeth our Heroic Tale.

I am...

yet to become Mrs Lazarus.

A Letter

Dear Mandy,

I don't really know how to tell you this, but the mafia wants you . I think I realized it when we skinny dipped in your closet and I saw you pull the clothes off Bill Clinton. I'm sure you're Cowardly enough to understand that your pimples are at the last stage. I'm returning the cut toenails to you, but I'll keep my common sense as a memory. You should also know that I always wanted to break the apartment building.

Good luck on your short-term leave from jail

Panu



How you do the Letter Meme:

Dear (the last person who left a comment to your Facebook note/wall/anywhere):

I don't really know how to tell you this, but [1]. I think I realized it [2] [3] and I saw you [4] [5]. I'm sure you're [6] enough to understand [7]. I'm returning [8] to you, but I'll keep [9] as a memory. You should also know that I [10] [11].

[12],
-Your name-


1. What's the color of your shirt?
Blue - Our romance is over
Red - Our affair is over
White - I'll join the monastery
Black - I dislike you
Green - Our horoscope doesn't match
Grey - You're a pervert
Yellow - I'm selling myself
Pink - Your nostrils are insulting
Brown - The mafia wants you
No shirt - You're a loser
Other - I'm in love with your sister

2. Which is your birth month?
January - That night
February - Last year
March - When your dwarf bit me
April - When I tripped on sesame seeds
May - First of May
June - When you put cuffs on me
July - When I threw up
August - When I saw the shrunken head
September - When we skinny dipped
October - When I quoted Santa
November - When your dog ran amok
December - When I changed tennis shoes

3. Which food do you prefer?
Tacos - In your apartment
Pizza - In your camping car
Pasta - Outside of Chicago
Hamburgers - Under the bus
Salad - As you ate enchilada
Chicken - In your closet
Kebab - With Paris Hilton
Fish - In women's clothing
Sandwiches - At the Hare Krishna graduation
Lasagna - At the mental hospital
Hot dog - Under a state of trance
Other - With George Bush and his wife

4. What's the colour of your socks?
Yellow - Hit on
Red - Insult
Black - Ignore
Blue - Knock out
Purple - Pour syrup on
White - Carve your initials into
Grey - Pull the clothes off
Brown - Put leeches on
Orange - Castrate
Pink - Pull the toupee off
Barefoot - Sit at
Other - Drive out

5. What's the colour of your underwear?
Black - My best friend
White - My father
Grey - Bill Clinton
Brown - My fart balloon
Purple - My mustard soufflé
Red - Donald Duck
Blue - My avocado plant
Yellow - My penpal in Ghana
Orange - My Kid Rock-collection
Pink - Manchester United's goalkeeper
None - My John F. Kennedy-statue
Other - The crazy monk

6. What do you prefer to watch on TV?
Scrubs - Man
O.C. - Emotional
One Tree Hill - Open
Heroes - Frostbitten
Lost - High
House - Scarred
Simpsons - Cowardly
The news - Mongolic
Idol - Masochistic
Family Guy - Senile
Top Model - Middle-class
Other - Ashamed

7. Your mood right now?
Happy -
Sad - How boring you are
Bored - That Santa doesn't exist
Angry - That your pimples are at the last stage
Depressed - That we're cousins
Excited - That there is no solution to this.
Nervous - The middle-east
Worried - That your Honda sucks
Apathetic - That I had a sex-change
Ashamed - That I'm allergic to your hamster
Cuddly - That I get turned on by garbage men
Overjoyed - That I'm open
Other - That Extreme Home Makeover sucks

8. What's the color of the walls in your bedroom?
White - Your ring
Yellow - Your love letters
Red - Your Darth Vader-poster
Black - Your tame stone
Blue - The couch cushions
Green - The pictures from LA
Orange - Your false teeth
Brown - Your contact book
Grey - Our matching snoopy-bibs
Purple - Your old lottery coupons
Pink - The cut toenails
Other - Your memories from the military service

9. The first letter of your first name?
A/B - Your photo
C/D - The oil stocks
E/F - Your neighbour Martin
G/H - My virginity
I/J - The results of your blood-sample
K/L - Your left ear
M/N - Your suicide note
O/P - My common sense
Q/R - Your mom
S/T - Your collection of butterflies
U/V - Your criminal record
W/X - David's tricot outfits
Y/Z - Your grades from college

10. The last letter in your last name:
A/B - Always will remember
C/D - Never will forget
E/F - Always wanted to break
G/H - Never openly mocked
I/J - Always have felt dirty before
K/L - Will tell the authorities about
M/N - Told in my confession today about
O/P - Was interviewed by the Times about
Q/R - Told my psychiatrist about
S/T - Get sick when I think of
U/V - Always will try to forget
W/X - Am better off without
Y/Z - Never liked

11. What do you prefer to drink?
Water- Our friendship
Beer - Senility
Soft drink - A new life as a clone
Soda - The incarnation as an eskimo
Milk - The apartment building
Wine - Cocaine abuse
Cider - A passionate interest for mice
Juice - Oprah Winfrey imitations
Mineral water - Embarrassing rash
Hot chocolate - Eggplant-fetishism
Whisky - To ruin the second world war
Other - To hate the Boston Celtics

12. To which country would you prefer to go on a vacation?
Thailand - Warm regards
USA - Best regards
England - Good luck on your short-term leave from jail
Spain - Go and drown yourself
China - Disgusting regards
Germany - With ease
Japan - Go burn
Greece - Your everlasting enemy
Australia - Greetings to your frog Leonard
Egypt - Fuck off now
France - In pain

ENJOY!!

Thenkyou Nylooo.

First name: Panu

single or taken: Its Single. Dammit.

sex: I wish.

birthday: 28th Sept.

siblings: Younger and pesky. Also known as "paintshop pro"

hair colour: Darkest brown

shoe size: Bata = 6. Others = 7

height: 5'3"

innie or outie: any discussion or information regarding the belly part is N/A. Not Applicable.

what are you wearing right now: Long bias cut skirt and a lovely dark red and off white top

righty or lefty:I'm Straight in general.

can you make a dollar in change right now: Vot? Na. Ami Amrican noi. Janina.

------------------------------------------------------------
relationships
------------------------------------------------------------

who are your closest friends? Piku, Chu, Pablo, D.

do you have a BF or GF? Er no. Not now. Thankyou.

best place to go for a date: A good coffee place.

---------------------------------------------------------------
favourites...
---------------------------------------------------------------

favourite place to shop: BAD QUESTION TO ASK A SHOPAHOLIC

favourite kind of pants: sexytightnottoolowjeans

favourite colour: Red, Blue and Black

number(s): 6

animal: Dogs.

drink: WATER.

sport(s): heeheehee.

fast food place(s): Kentucky Fried Chicken. I can sing songs about the place

month: October. In general. Pujor time.

current movie: currently its Singin in the Rain. I Loooooooooooove.

juice: lime

finger: thumb

breakfast: BACON. EGGS. MUSHROOMS. FRIED BREAD. LUCHI AR AALOO BHAJA.

favourite cartoon character(s): Flintstones. And Looney Tunes. Tom and Jerry.

----------------------------------------------------------
have you ever:
----------------------------------------------------------

given anyone a bath? Yep. Quite a few in fact. Stop perving.

smoked? yep.

bungee-jumped? wanna.

made yourself throw up? yep.

gone skinny dipping? yes.

eaten a hot dog? Yum, yep.

put your tongue on a frozen pole? I don't think I was shooting for dumb and dumber.

loved someone so much it made you cry? Yes.

broken a bone? no

played truth-or-dare? did.

been in a police car? Yep.

been on a plane? Yep

been in a sauna? Yep. extremely baaje jayga. never wanna go back.

been in a hot tub? not in company.

gone swimming in the ocean? YES!!!!!! OH LORD YESS!!!!!!!!!!

fallen asleep in school? not really.

ran away? Plenty of times.

broken someone's heart? yep.

cried when someone died? Yes.

cried in school? A few times.

fallen off your chair? Yes.

sat by the phone all night waiting for someone to call? Yes.

saved e-mails? Yes.

fallen for one of your best friends? Yes.

made out with JUST a friend? Yes.

used someone? Yes. I dont think I want to again. Ever.

been cheated on? Yes.

----------------------------------------------------------------
What is...
----------------------------------------------------------------

your good luck charm? its a little ring from a friend.

the best song you ever heard? Lots lots lots.

the stupidest thing you have ever done? Oh well. Long list. I'm sure anyone who knows me can come up with different stuff.

what's your room like? A mess. I likit.

the last thing you said? You think this will work?

what is beside you? a lot of mails. and a gluestick.

the last thing you ate? chanachur.

what kind of shampoo do you use? Disney's Mickey Mouse as per last week.

the best thing that has happened to you this year? lotsa things. Ok.. Picnic at chu's.

the worst thing that has happened to you this year? Ore baba.

----------------------------------------
have you had..
----------------------------------------

chicken pox? nope.

sore throat? yes, many times.

stitches? Once

broken nose? tried

-------------------------------------
do you
-------------------------------------

believe in love at first sight? I do

like picnics? Love them.

like school? Yes.

--------------------------------------
would you/what is
---------------------------------------

eat a live hamster for $1,000,000 ? No. I won't

if you were stuck on an island, what people would you want with you? PEOPLE WITH A YACHT, a Navigator, and a bridge to Land.

who was the last person that called you? Ma.

who was the last person you slow-danced with? Karan.

what makes you laugh the most? I laugh for mostly no particular reason. Oh no wait... Chucky. I like laughing with her.

what makes you smile? Chucky. I like smiling at her.


---------------------------------
who was the last person
--------------------------------------

you yelled at? Abir

who broke your heart? O baba!

who told you he/she loved you? Pablo.

who is your loudest friend? Pablo.

------------------------------------------------------------

do you/are you/Have you:
------------------------------------------------------------

do you like filling these out? yep.

do you wear glasses or contacts? Glasses and contacts.

do you like yourself? I do.

do you get along with your family? Trick question.

stolen anything over $50? Na.

obsessive? At times.

compulsive? Janina.

anorexic? No One WILL/CAN ACCUSE ME OF THAT

suicidal? NO.

schizophrenic? ew. no.

--------------------------------
love life
-------------------------------

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
this or that
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

coffee or tea: Coffee.

phone or in person: in person

are you oldest, middle, youngest or only child: Older and wiser.

indoor or outdoor: Outdoor.

--------------------------------------------------
final questions
------------------------------------

how many people are you sending this to: whoever wants it can take it.

what are you listening to right now? tick tick tick.

what did you do yesterday? worked and then got a tattoo.

where do you want to get married? On a little cliff. so that if I change my mind I can jump off.

if you could change anything about yourself, what would it be? My Gullibility.

are you a good driver? no. I am terrible.

are you a good singer? Yes. to myself.

what do you dream about? Me.

Inking

Is a slight pain at the base of my back.

27th November: A Day

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.

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.

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.

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.

Expanse of Spirit.

Or something that attracts the spirit and sends the soul off to far away, distant places, know, that it is I who am.

It is me who still remain here.

Dearest friend,

I have made mistakes, I have pretended. I am guilty of my sins. But ever since I pretended, and I made mistakes, I became dearer to you, so would you not love me because my mistakes and my pretenses made me come to you and look at you behind your mistakes, and your pretenses? Maybe you can forgive those random thoughts, those silly comments because you cannot bear to see my hidden face anymore?

Maybe I am merely putting myself up for folly. One laughs at the enigmatic speeches I make and pretend they do not know what I speak of. But I know here what I speak of. I speak of the faraway spirits which embalms you in the middle of the day with their vapid presence. I speak of the forgotten who was left inside the dank, dreary skin while you hid.

I speak of all the random places I have seen, talked to, and touched a little part of 'THAT' who speaks to you in your head.

And here I end, leaving on a note of nothing beautiful, nothing glorious.

Ek Haseena Thi....

I love the film. Karz. NO NOT WITH THE MULTIPLE 'Z' Starring a certain Nasal Man. He did not do justice to a masterpiece that was Subhash Ghai at his best. Rishi Kapoor at his full glory.

"Mere Umar Kee.... Naujawano..."

I used to love that song. It was such a power trip for me. I saw that movie at "Santosh" Cinema when I was 6. I think, the second ever movie that I saw on big screen. That film had run there for 39 weeks when it was first released, and then, it was re-run 10 years later, when I saw it. House was still FULL. People were dancing when the songs came up. Everyone sang the parody of Dard-E-Dil with relish...

"Pehle toh main shayar tha,

Shuor banaya apne."

And then they saw everything, mesmerised. They loved the people who watched and whooped and sang with them. Its such a powerful film, well-made and well-thought out. It made the absurd storyline seem normal. And Simi Garewal. Oh Simi. You were so Beautiful. I never did like you when you shed fake tears and daintily wiped them off in your talk show. But there... I was in love with you. Six years of age.

I wanted her. Not Miss Tandoori Nights.

Disclaimer: I am yet to see the Karzzz with lotz of "Z".I am biased because I love Simi Garewal. I will be seeing the movie again shortly. And I shall love it. As usual.

Dated.

Delusion and dreams. That is what is there. But its all about existence. Maybe existence is a dream. Or a delusion. Or maybe its a certainty. I am pretty non-committal that way.

Speaking of delusions, I believe randomness is delusion's hold to sanctity and sanity. What say you?

You believe otherwise. Or you might not.

And when...

You think you have seen it all, and then something happens.

In this life, something always happens. Even Nothing is perhaps Something. Let us not go into that equation. My blog, which has recently become quite didactic and frenetic (and let us not forget, hectic to read up and remember) is pretty fine. Random people are shifting their blogs to random portals, but I am loyal to blogger. I Blog. Therefore I is. Otherwise I Iz probably.

So where was I? Oh this is a Pujo post. And a post to acknowledge that tomorrow my best friend is celebrating her 24th birthday. Chu, I love you. Even when you're older. Its life. I'm old too. Look look. I'm old and I'm wearing daring jama and all.

Other news: I love Ganges Bank. It is beautiful to trail the sky's blooming blue at five o'clock in the morning, and watch someone taking a dip into the water that supposedly emerged from Shiva's Knot of Hair. I sometimes read up the myths, and I always think... What it took those people to create and believe these explanations to phenomenons before they understood it fully.


japakusuma shankasam

kaashyapeya mahadyutim

tamohrim sarvapapaghna

pranohtasmi diwaakaraha

I wish I could explain to you how I remember myself at three, learning this simple surya shloka with my grandmother who made me look at the early morning sun. She told me not to be afraid of the giant ball of fire... it gives us life, and destroys evil.

Maybe thats why I have become a nightcrawler.

Decisions and Dread

So here I am sitting here

Watching the space between us,

And you are

In your own dreams

Lost in the shades of your life...

Oh I want to add an exceptional to the normalcy

That we live

And perhaps

Believe for a while

That this dream of mine lies here, right here,

And we are sitting across the skies and stars, this infinitesimal

Space between us,

Lost and not lost

Unbeknown to all, but here I lie and believe you again....

Sounds like....

Like a snowball revolving on and on........

I am here. I am nearly old. I am nearly old. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

The Memoirs of this Lamentable Mohila.

Mohila

Means Lady. Woman. Female.

I have been addressed as that quite a few times when I was around seventeen. Old and matured at my age, I somehow felt incredibly hurt when some men's eyes would slither all over me and then there would be the deliberate "brushing" against my body... even my forearms were erogenous zones. I hated the way they would comment on my newly and fully developed breasts, my bigger than average buttocks, and my ungainly looks.

"Mohilar jinis achhe guru... Mukh jodio dhuchunir moto..." (the Lady has Stuff to show, though her face looks like shit)

I would cringe sometimes. Sometimes I would try to put up an impassive face to show that they could not hurt me. Sometimes I would glare.

Tales of ineffectuality, that.

Yesterday, I'd just come back from a drive and my best friend had dropped me home. The cell phone's cash charge suddenly diminished to almost nothing, and panicking, I ran to the nearest shop. When I was returning, I found two men starting to comment.

"Jinis mama, jinis. Dekhechis?" (Stuff man, stuff. You See?)

"Dekhechi to dekhechi to.." (I see, I see!)

Comments went on. I was walking. Normal pace. No strange kung-fu stance, or anything. Inside, my body was burning up. I was seeing red as they continued to make comments like this for more than ten minutes. Finally, I decided to put a stop to this.

HALT! PAUSE! TURN!

I looked at two men. One was twenty. The other was younger.

They paused too.

Flash went my camera. Broad street. People passing by. They stared at me in disbelief as I lowered the camera phone.

"Ar ekta kotha bolle ei chhobita niye thanay jaabo ami. Nyakami hochhe?" (One more word and I go to the police with this picture. WTF?)

They begin to say something but I turned away.

I had no other options. Was what I did right? Was it?

All I could feel was my red blood boiling. And the problem was, my stupid camera phone was unable to process the request because of the light.

Ulto Bhai-let

I have a new addition to the family. A baby girl who is very pretty and has saxay eyes. Who looks at everyone. I shall be running after boys in about 12 years, waving the then-rusted gun that I wave now at damn boys who mess with my sister. Its becoming more and more a tradition and I'm pretty happy with the outcome. M's nearly fourteen and still not in lou. I still hold the right to let a boy date her, and since I consider that species out of question, until she turns lesbian, she's not getting any anytime soon. She still claims to love Inu Yasha though. I really commend on her enthusiasm. Its been three years, and she has not deviated. Good for her, I say. Shows her faithfulness to that errant dog demon who seem to two time the love(s) of his life.

On the other hand, I have been chastised by the Headmistress who insist on me not sitting on the tabletop and address every senior teacher "didi" and "Apni".... I shall be going "Jeremy" on them very soon if I have my way.

Its this....

Suki and me were walking all tralala at Shitty Shentaar and we found this. Right after that, I found hot top that she told me I gotta Have.

Is there some point where you scratch your head and look back and realize that the place that you just were was the place where once upon a time you believed in a lot of things, and then that place was just snatched from right under your feet, and you go, WTF rya??

A few days ago, I wanted nothing more to do with a lot of aspects of life, and now that I am inadvertently involved in it, I have no idea how to extract myself from it... mystified reader, you have my permission to officially desert this post and run the hell away.

System check : MET DOUBLETAKE DOUBLETHINK. I Like her.

Uh. Back to point one. Peep ree.... I lou you to bitty pieces. Can I immerse you in chocolate sauce and lick you? It will be novel and you shall squirm and go eki mairi (or you might end up competing with me to lick the chocolate, who knows?) but I sincerely need to do something THAT absurd to miss a beat nowadays... I am so totally INTHEBEAT now!!

Agh-race-Shun. BHOTEBHAR.

Hoom.

I'm down... and out. My workplace houses cats and kitty-type women who try and destroy others.... cats are better than kitties any day. My students tell me I mingle with them like a friend.

I'm pretty happy. I have suddenly discovered I like how people look at me sometime.

I miss you Chu. I miss you bad.

Its like being happy sometime. Its like being unhappy sometime. I shaking my cozy pheet and being happy sometime.

The Merest Hint....

Then the link between the due courses are severed and releashed. Do we care sometimes?


Perhaps not.

What colour is your tears? What?

Out there is a girl who love me. And she left without a trace. Now the city has become my tomb and the streets reek of her, and I can smell the stench of her monthly flow through the gutters, and still I miss her. She chokes me with her un-presence, and I crave her till my throat screams for fluid. I scream for fluidity but I am still the solid piece of flesh that I am.

She's gone.

Yet one more, but so much more...so much more...
What do I do? Where do I go? How must I flow? How? How?

I love you. Wherever you are. My Other. My All. ]

Mine to love, mine to hate, mine to let go and vegetate.

The Horse and the Butterfly

No. This ain't no Narnia. Its about two Hindi Movies that has been released on the Fourth of July. And I have seen them, back to back, and am driven to write a review for what a lot of "Intellectual" Bengali people call trashy Bolly drivel and refuse to watch.

How about putting it this way? I have enjoyed the first two odd hours of movie watching so much that I was clapping and humming and jumping around. During the next two, I sat with my hands carefully draped across the seat in the front, trying to wish myself away to Someplace Else (Or even Tantra, for the Ministry of Sound thing yesterday). It could not be helped. It is, as my dear friend Mister Sukumar Roy puts it, "was hanky, now cat." (And yes, thats the correct translation, Peep. So where was I? Oh, of course. The movies. Or rather, the moves. What made Love story 2050 quite unbearable to watch was this really bad script. It was watching the poor Baweja boy struggle through his lines, dripping tears, and reminding me sincerely of Hrithik in Yaadein. I won't even go to the depth of drama he tried to enact, but Pappu, you can dance all you want, but you have dumb eyes. Can you please put on another expression, if possible? Where Hrithik can speak volumes with his, your eyes tell me, when do I dance? I mean, I know, you are an IMPECCABLE dancer, with an incredible sense of timing, and when you dance, your eyes light up. For future reference, I would ask you to participate in dance dramas, and dancy movies, and wear tight tees that show off your male boobies. Please. And you made the movie bearable because I could not really appreciate Priyanka Chopra running around in white, looking like a vestal virgin in one act and this hot red beeyach in another. I believe in all sort of reincarnations, but this was quite ridiculous, watching Hrithik Morph meet Rekha Reincarnate. I wanted to see a movie that was fun and nice, maybe the mistakes leading to a guy suddenly landing up in 2050 and bungling around, which would have been fun. But here there is no light. Here Anakin Skywalker uses tubelights (albeit glowing electric ones, but still...) to fight against the Darth Grover (Hoshi? Joshi? I forgot the name of the villain... not that he was much of a villain anyway, His Royal Evility was the scriptwriter him/herself who forced conversation where none was needed). Baweja beta's only good contribution (apart from the dancything) to the movie was that he can look helpless. But he established himself as the whiny, attention seeking brat, and totally ruined his image for me. And what's with the Age 23 thing?? Is that a talisman against Age 24 and up? Who are you trying to be, born on 13th November, 1984?? And do you expect us to believe that Priyanka (sorry darling) is '86 born?? DEWD!! Get a life!! Even I don't buy that, and let me tell you, I buy a lot of things in life, in general.

All right. I have vented enough bile over the Baweja beta. Lets look at the other half of the party. The film, the beginning reminded me of Chalte Chalte, where this woman is hearing a story from her friends, about a couple. I went... agh. Not again. But then, it began. Imran Khan. I did not really like him much... (I was biased. He was not as pretty as Baweja Boy.. incidentally, a good looking body and face can keep you in a movie hall. I swear), and when he first began, it was pretty upsetting to see a funeral, until the point you realized that just when this movie got serious, it ruined it all and became funny. Oh My God. And was it funny! At one point, I thought my bottom (yes, the fat one) will fall off the seat, because we were going nuts over the movie. I am glad to say, that the guys look so nice together, they just make up a team. Reminded me of our group, with the Singer/Rodlu, the Jignes, the Bombs, the Shaleen, the Jay, the Aditi, the Works, rather. Pappu can't dance. At least not in this movie. He can't sing, apparently (Yes, he was unbearable. I would kill someone cheerfully if he made me listen to Imran Khan ishtyle song at the end of the movie). But everyone was Incredible and so totally supportive of each other. And I loved the character of Meghna... beautiful Meghna who made a life out of illusion and dreams. I could remember a song by Everclear when I saw her eyes as she described her "gorgeous" parents who turned out to be indifferent and drunk.


I close my eyes when I get too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
Close my eyes and I count to ten
Hope it's over when I open them

I want the things that I had before
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again

Hope my mom and I hope my dad
Will figure out why they get so mad
Hear them scream, I hear them fight
They say bad words that make me wanna cry

Close my eyes when I go to bed
And I dream of angels who make me smile
I feel better when I hear them say
Everything will be wonderful someday

Promises mean everything when you're little
And the world's so big
I just don't understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
Tell me everything is wonderful now

Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now


The very obvious sigh of "ooh la la" that came from women around the hall as they saw Aditi's boy friend showed their approval of a good looking rascal. And there was never a dull moment. They were not the force-friends or force-scientists, or force-anythings of anyone. They were humans, all living human passions embedded within them. I told myself that the ending made Aditi (I cannot think of her as anything else) look kind of a turn off with the short hair, but the strength came from within the movie, to see them all in action, so totally wonderful together. And not in the Everclear sense. I could feel the sadness, I could feel the "Lou" and I could feel the emotions that came from within. The horse motif was a bit of an overkill. In dreams, in discs, on the road, in carriages, even on the wall... horses were everywhere. But well, it was bearable compared to the cupid-fly.

Baweja Boy repeats, "I don't need luck, I have love." Here's the deal; you shall get love from the parents. If they are not mad enough to kill you because I believe you have just made them and the other poor sods who foolishly believed in time travel 80 odd crores lighter. I guess you need a time traveling device now. To run away to 2050 when you (hopefully) won't be recognized.

If only they made more movies like they do at the Aamir House. Jaane tu... implies the coming of a new trend, that was pioneered by Jab We Met and it reminded me once again, that just when you thought it was over, Picture tab bhi baaki tha, mere dost !!

the spirit of the age

Success!!

I HAVE MADE COFFEE RUM AND KAHLUA!!!

System Check.

Paul Simon is a rock in the background, peppery liquid running down my throat. The smell of burning paper pervades my nostrils, and yet another day passes in the same way thousand others have, and I move a day closer to ...?

For me you contain within you

All my perfume, all my bile, and all my disfigured cells.

For me you take a shape

And gently melt when I ask you to.

Some Trivial Days.

So yesterday was a fabulous day. My Kaka (sort of complicated this. My uncle lives in the same house as me and we are very close... he is my Grandfather's stepbrother's son) turned 35 yesterday and we went out to celebrate with Dadu and Didun (his parents). My Kakima is heavily pregnant, so she could not go and berated us on the phone as we had fun. We ordered food we could not finish and cold drinks because my uncle's a teetotaler. And in the night I went for a bike ride. Just like old times. We had cold coffee at Gautam's at 12 in the night and we sneaked in because we did not want Dadu-Didun to be upset and awake. But they were, and we sang songs and I was thinking of the numerous times Dadu had had me down from a tank, rescued me from a street fight, or played with my GI Joes, and sang songs together like this. My parents hate them, though. For them, my Dadu-Didun are nonexistent, though they dote on my kaka and kakima.

My Dadu died this morning. He left us in his sleep, a half-smile curved to his lips. And all I could think of was that he was planning a baby shower for my Kakima on Friday. I don't think there will be any now.

Rest in Peace. I love you.

Narcissus

The wind burst and breathed around me,

Twirling in naked magery, the short

Spurts of musky rain enveloping

My very soul.


Its going to rain.


Rain creeps up and soaks all

With its dim moistness, swirling

Its way into the bones of the coconut

Trees, and the almond shaped drops

Soaked me to my skin.


And still, it was to rain.


The pain washed off the days of my life

I sat on a table top, wondering if that

Day would come when it would rain.


But its raining already. Can't you hear

The drops

Of Neptune

Falling from the sky?


Its going to...


You washed the pieces of broken crockery on the sink.

You prayed in front of the potted idol.

You wasted the breaths unnecessarily,

But I thought it was needed to make you happy.


You called and waited

Beneath the coconut trees

But he never showed up.

You did all the right things

But the real dread behind all

Was behind the one person whom you

Did not tell.


And you lay on the dust of your spirits,

Reclined on your skull

And gasped at the beauty of it.


The bones shattered, rattled, broke

Under you

And you fell into a chasm of silence

Where nothing existed but you.

And you blessed yourself because there was no one left to bless.

He never came under the coconut tree.

You stooped and picked up the rib

That was once you

And broke it into half

And you took the pieces and made them into a pair

And the two ribs led separate lives

Happily ever after.


The myth was for them. It was not for you.

It is not for me.


It will be never for us. Not for you and I.

Random conversation.

me: you completely took a wrong turn!!
you: don't think i said anything wrong at all...
you: where did I take a wrong turn?
me: oh yes!! you did not. you merely became frigid and said adios senorita!!
you: you should have brought me back on road...
you: held my hand...
you: and brought me back on the right track...
me: me?? i never bring anyone back. I never hold hands, I run on my own road.
you: ok..
you: I will keep that in mind...
me: if someone follows... they soon lose track
you: ok...
you: what if they use a chopper? Will that help?
me: I will go down the trench babe
you: what if they use a mine drilling equipment?
you: will that help?
me: i shall fly away then
you: ok...
you: what if they have James Bond's rocket back pack?
you: will that help?
me: then i shall become invisible
me: or use nitro and just zoom away.
you: what if they have the latest ray refracting machine?
you: will that help?
you: what if they have capt.spock's nitro rocket?
me: i shall vapourise and turn into a mist and just go
you: will that help?
me: nope
you: what if they have a mist sucking machine?
me: then i shall turn into vampire bats and suck blood out of all and be very happy.
you: what if they have watched the movie 'bats' and know all the methods of capture?
you: will that help?
me: why are we doing this?



We were young people who ran. And ran and ran and ran. We looked no where but towards us. We were unbeatable, indomitable, our head in the clouds. We ran so fast that we never saw what was coming. We never did.

And we were running in different streets with no aim, no way to find, no where to go. We were just running. But then, she crashed into someone and held on. And I tumbled. I tumbled and ran on. We were two people in two different places both with the same aim to reach the mark. But what mark? What? We did not know. We did not know what mark but we loved running free like a wild wild wild thing that did not know where to end. Where to stop. And where to go.

Its been a while. I look for someone to crash into. But I am also afraid of him. That’s why people surround me. Its easy to get lost when you have plenty of people around you.

Its A Steal!!

I have lost the cellphone again.

A thief stole it while stealing other things as well. Like my purse and my I-pod.

Apparently I had a conversation with him while I was sleeping.


It went like this.

[Middle of the night. I feel hands rummaging through my side. Sleepily I begin]

Me: (Ke?) Who's this?

Thief: Ami.(Its me.)

Me: Ami? Ami Ke? Ar Phone Nichho Keno? (Me? Me who? And why are you taking my phone?)

Thief: Ma chaichhe. (Mother wants it)

Me: Keno? O to use korte jane na... (Why? She does not know how to use it...)

Thief snaps back: Ami ki jani keno chaichhe... chaichhe tai dichhi. (How do I know why she wants it. I just know she does)

Me : oh okay.

[I go back to sleep.]

I got completely freaked when I saw what had happened. And police enquiry people laughed their heads off when they heard it.

They weren't laughing when they found a knife though. One of those with old bloodstains on it.

Hero

Hold it tighter

Your knuckles white

Against the slickly advertised phone

Your hair cut in a strange crop

You are the model of greatness

When you run with them.



Who are they you ask?

Why, those who love you!

Your perfect abs and hips

Your devil-may-care smile

And all the girls die at the drop of a line...


Come to them.

They will

Feed you the Dionysian fruits

And I shall watch them,

My hair unbound, the way you like it

My face unmoving and strong,

I gave you my all,

And tonight you are strange

The perfect locks of your hair shaking

When your gaze falls on me



And its all there. Its all there in

The precious darkness where nothing else works,

Only you and I cling

In that darkness I call insecurity.

Of Pune and Good Eats

So I have become addicted to this. Oh My Effing Lord, THIS is brilliant.


SO. Marriages sort of cloud the family again. It seems I have endless cousins all of marriageable age, and all of them are surrendering their effing wickets like Knight Riders and feeling happy about it and its my turn next everywhere and I don't know whattodo OMG I sound paranoid now...


Which I am.

Its allgood though.

After Dorabjee's, it is.

I first heard about it when I was 10. I have people visiting Pune for a long time and EVERYONE told me about that place. And so I went.

Sorry. I cannot describe the food. It is. Out. Of. This. WORLD.

I will just post another picture. Y'all can drool.



Needless to say, the chicken was AMAZING. The chicken mushroom pie was succulent and tender. The Lemon tart was just There to make me happy, and the caramel custard Pudding was OMG.

I want to go back there. Again.