Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
A letter to nobody
Dear Nobody,
My mind is filled with so many questions that I thought I
better spit them out. You might not be able to come up with answers to them, or
maybe to some you could. In either case there is no harm in trying. So, here I begin…
Why do Delhi girls wear their dupattas like terrorists,
covering their head and face? Is it because they are trying to scare people off
or because they are trying to get mixed in the crowd like dust? Is it because
it lends them some invisible anonymity or because they don’t like how they
look?
Why is it that sex is associated with nights? Why only when
you spend the night out it also means you must have done that? Is it not possible
to make out during the day time? Then why is there such a big hullabaloo about
being out at night?
Why is it that people get shocked when a girl is out at
night? Why is it that the ‘night’ is owned by men? Why is it that good girls (I
find these words offensive, but I am making an exception right now) can’t walk
alone on the road at night? Why restrict our lives to the days and retire at
night?
Why do people keep pets? Why don’t they keep other people? Hungry
people, poor people, old people, orphans….there are so many breeds to choose
from.
Why is it that the very birds which we write poetry about
irritate us no end when they start living in our air conditioner?
Why aren’t there windows anymore? I shall not even mention
the ventilators.
Life is full of sound and fury and has no meaning. Every one
has heard that. Then how come everyone is chasing something or other always? Well
this is not making sense anymore. I shall stop here and now. Thanks for
listening my dear Nobody.
Stories in 55 Words
55 # 4
“Lovely my dear… pretty earrings” complimented someone. A smile touched Amina’s lips but didn’t reach her eyes. She ignored the guilty drone inside her head. All she wanted was to look beautiful. That day too she wanted the earrings. No reason, no excuse. She didn’t have the money to buy, so she just took it.
55 # 5
Today I retire. I have been drinking since morning. I am not unhappy. Good retirement benefits always help. They have found a successor for me. I am not unhappy. People don’t respect my job. But my father did it and my grandfather too. I am not unhappy. I will be hanging the last man today.
Infinity
Like the stars
Who shine at a distant a horizon
Like you yearn for them knowing well
You can never reach them
I love you
Accepting with heavy heart
That this distance is important
That pining for you is just
A trivial part of loving you
It can never encompass
The emotions that have been travelled
And that this endless tale will be experienced
With the knowledge that
Far away in the distant
You are shinning with glory
With simply your memory
My life is infinity.
Who shine at a distant a horizon
Like you yearn for them knowing well
You can never reach them
I love you
Accepting with heavy heart
That this distance is important
That pining for you is just
A trivial part of loving you
It can never encompass
The emotions that have been travelled
And that this endless tale will be experienced
With the knowledge that
Far away in the distant
You are shinning with glory
With simply your memory
My life is infinity.
How To Watch Your Brother Die
(A moving piece I happened to stumble upon)
When the call comes, be calm.
Say to your wife, "My brother is dying. I have to fly
to California."
try not to be shocked that he already looks like
a cadaver.
Say to the young man sitting by your brother's side,
"I'm his brother."
Try not to be shocked when the young man says,
"I'm his lover. Thanks for coming."
Listen to the doctor with a steel face on.
Sign the necessary forms.
Tell the doctor you will take care of everything.
Wonder why doctors are so remote.
Watch the lover's eyes as they stare into
your brother's eyes as they stare into
space.
Wonder what they see there.
Remember the time he was jealous and
opened your eyebrow with a sharp stick.
Forgive him out loud
even if he can't
understand you.
Realize the scar will be
all that's left of him.
Over coffee in the hospital cafeteria
say to the lover, "You're an extremely good-looking
young man."
Hear him say,
"I never thought I was good enough looking to
deserve your brother."
Watch the tears well up in his eyes. Say,
"I'm sorry. I don't know what it means to be
the lover of another man."
Hear him say,
"Its just like a wife, only the commitment is
deeper because the odds against you are so much
greater."
Say nothing, but
take his hand like a brother's.
Drive to Mexico for unproven drugs that might
help him live longer.
Explain what they are to the border guard.
Fill with rage when he informs you,
"You can't bring those across."
Begin to grow loud.
Feel the lover's hand on your arm
restraining you. See in the guard's eye
how much a man can hate another man.
Say to the lover, "How can you stand it?"
Hear him say, "You get used to it."
Think of one of your children getting used to
another man's hatred.
Call your wife on the telephone. Tell her,
"He hasn't much time.
I'll be home soon." Before you hang up say,
"How could anyone's commitment be deeper than
a husband and a wife?" Hear her say,
"Please. I don't want to know all the details."
When he slips into an irrevocable coma,
hold his lover in your arms while he sobs,
no longer strong. Wonder how much longer
you will be able to be strong.
Feel how it feels to hold a man in your arms
whose arms are used to holding men.
Offer God anything to bring your brother back.
Know you have nothing God could possible want.
Curse God, but do not
abandon Him.
Stare at the face of the funeral director
when he tells you he will not
embalm the body for fear of
contamination. Let him see in your eyes
how much a man can hate another man.
Stand beside a casket covered in flowers,
white flowers. Say,
"thank you for coming," to each of seven hundred men
who file past in tears, some of them
holding hands. Know that your brother's life
was not what you imagined. Overhear two
mourners say, "I wonder who'll be next?" and
"I don't care anymore,
as long as it isn't you."
Arrange to take an early flight home.
His lover will drive you to the airport.
When your flight is announced say,
awkwardly, "If I can do anything, please
let me know." Do not flinch when he says,
"Forgive yourself for not wanting to know him
after he told you. He did."
Stop and let it soak in. Say,
"He forgave me, or he knew himself?"
"Both," the lover will say, not knowing what else
to do. Hold him like a brother while he
kisses you on the cheek. Think that
you haven't been kissed by a man since
your father died. Think,
"This is no moment to be strong."
Fly first class and drink Scotch. Stroke
your split eyebrow with a finger and
think of your brother alive. Smile
at the memory and think
how your children will feel in your arms
warm and friendly and without challenge.
Michael Lassell
When the call comes, be calm.
Say to your wife, "My brother is dying. I have to fly
to California."
try not to be shocked that he already looks like
a cadaver.
Say to the young man sitting by your brother's side,
"I'm his brother."
Try not to be shocked when the young man says,
"I'm his lover. Thanks for coming."
Listen to the doctor with a steel face on.
Sign the necessary forms.
Tell the doctor you will take care of everything.
Wonder why doctors are so remote.
Watch the lover's eyes as they stare into
your brother's eyes as they stare into
space.
Wonder what they see there.
Remember the time he was jealous and
opened your eyebrow with a sharp stick.
Forgive him out loud
even if he can't
understand you.
Realize the scar will be
all that's left of him.
Over coffee in the hospital cafeteria
say to the lover, "You're an extremely good-looking
young man."
Hear him say,
"I never thought I was good enough looking to
deserve your brother."
Watch the tears well up in his eyes. Say,
"I'm sorry. I don't know what it means to be
the lover of another man."
Hear him say,
"Its just like a wife, only the commitment is
deeper because the odds against you are so much
greater."
Say nothing, but
take his hand like a brother's.
Drive to Mexico for unproven drugs that might
help him live longer.
Explain what they are to the border guard.
Fill with rage when he informs you,
"You can't bring those across."
Begin to grow loud.
Feel the lover's hand on your arm
restraining you. See in the guard's eye
how much a man can hate another man.
Say to the lover, "How can you stand it?"
Hear him say, "You get used to it."
Think of one of your children getting used to
another man's hatred.
Call your wife on the telephone. Tell her,
"He hasn't much time.
I'll be home soon." Before you hang up say,
"How could anyone's commitment be deeper than
a husband and a wife?" Hear her say,
"Please. I don't want to know all the details."
When he slips into an irrevocable coma,
hold his lover in your arms while he sobs,
no longer strong. Wonder how much longer
you will be able to be strong.
Feel how it feels to hold a man in your arms
whose arms are used to holding men.
Offer God anything to bring your brother back.
Know you have nothing God could possible want.
Curse God, but do not
abandon Him.
Stare at the face of the funeral director
when he tells you he will not
embalm the body for fear of
contamination. Let him see in your eyes
how much a man can hate another man.
Stand beside a casket covered in flowers,
white flowers. Say,
"thank you for coming," to each of seven hundred men
who file past in tears, some of them
holding hands. Know that your brother's life
was not what you imagined. Overhear two
mourners say, "I wonder who'll be next?" and
"I don't care anymore,
as long as it isn't you."
Arrange to take an early flight home.
His lover will drive you to the airport.
When your flight is announced say,
awkwardly, "If I can do anything, please
let me know." Do not flinch when he says,
"Forgive yourself for not wanting to know him
after he told you. He did."
Stop and let it soak in. Say,
"He forgave me, or he knew himself?"
"Both," the lover will say, not knowing what else
to do. Hold him like a brother while he
kisses you on the cheek. Think that
you haven't been kissed by a man since
your father died. Think,
"This is no moment to be strong."
Fly first class and drink Scotch. Stroke
your split eyebrow with a finger and
think of your brother alive. Smile
at the memory and think
how your children will feel in your arms
warm and friendly and without challenge.
Michael Lassell
A promise
"A dog is not a good dog because he is good at barking.
A man is not a good man because he is good at talking."
-----Found this written behind an auto. Philosophy at an unexpected place. Consider it for sometime. What does it say?
Does it caution us against smooth talkers? Does it ask us to believe in the deed and not the hype? Does it say a man who has a way with words is not to be trusted? Does this saying work? Is it archaic? Can it work in advertising?
Think about it. It's been a long time. And here I am back with sad quotes. Will do better next time.
A man is not a good man because he is good at talking."
-----Found this written behind an auto. Philosophy at an unexpected place. Consider it for sometime. What does it say?
Does it caution us against smooth talkers? Does it ask us to believe in the deed and not the hype? Does it say a man who has a way with words is not to be trusted? Does this saying work? Is it archaic? Can it work in advertising?
Think about it. It's been a long time. And here I am back with sad quotes. Will do better next time.
Dimensions
I remained in yesterday
You moved on
to a strange today
-x-
The curtains lived on the edges of the day
Silent and somber watching
As deadlines rushed in & went away
-x-
The cat dragged in something
Stinking, broken and bleeding
It was but yesterday’s dream
-x-
The splashes from a butterfly fell on my days
Golden were the ways
When I flew where I wanted to
-x-
There was struggle between the identities
Me was different everywhere
Twitter, fb, orkut, buzz all agreed at my strangeness
-x-
Hunger pangs attacking the tummy
Tummy punished
for all the secret obscenities
it contained
-x-
Pain is the most
random thing in the world.
It’s everywhere.
-x-
What was stress called
when people hadn’t coined that term?
-x-
The grammar of love is confusing
Even practice may not
make you perfect
-x-
One by one they leave me
no rhyme no reason
betraying hair on my head
-x-
Burden of holding up millions of
thoughts & counter thoughts
so long bow down my neck now
-x-
A writer needs to write
A doctor needs to practice
A lover only needs to dream
pure inebreation
Came across this piece one day...see if you like it...
Sitting here
thinking about you,
wondering if you're
thinking of me.
We've been down
this road before
and I know where
it ends.
Hypnotic dreams,
so sweet,
of you.
Only to wake up
to nothing more than
an unforgiving
blank wall.
Secrets shared in
silence,
deafens me.
Self sedation
brings me around,
to kill the
painful thoughts of
you.
The less you say,
the worse it gets.
....
Michael "Kemo" Bingoff
Moderately Insane
Was I a poet then that I believed you
Or am I mad now to doubt
-x-
Whole day the money plant sat talking
To the window panes
The sun smiled on
And when night came
The exhausted stars too did their bit
Until the money plant dozed off
-x-
You brought me a little heart
Crooked n crumpled
And I a fool
Kept it under my pillow
Not knowing it will
Steal all my peace
-x-
The dirt from your eyes
Spills on my plans
And kills your bloody chances
-x-
Rub me rub me the wrong way
How I dare you
Do so…
-x-
The tar is set to conquer memories
The sweeter the worse
To remember
Save! Call in the fireman
Record! I want to play them again
Time replied it’s ok to keep some
And to let go off some
But what if the good is gone
And the bad remains?
-x-
Scavenger, scavenger
Don’t distribute my pieces
Don’t tell my stories
-x-
Restart the brain
Re-pen the thoughts
They have slept for long
-x-
Keep your eyes open
Don’t wink don’t breathe
The mosquitoes might attack
Some Words
Litter…
Litter everywhere
You have trampled
all that I gave thee
Moments, memories,
hopes let to the wind
Crushed under your indifference
And strewn asunder gifts of love
Now they lie hurt
With their eyes on the doorstep
In the long lost memory lane
-x-
I am the end
I am the means
I live through my dreams
I play to the extreme
The conversations we share
Are nothing, nowhere
I am their creator
In form and fiction
You speak what I dream
I hear what I want to
-x-
Tepid…Tepid…
Is your love rascal
Tepid…Tepid
Young fool
Innocent of dark
Depths of the heart
And love games of the mind
Tepid…tepid
Your embrace
Half heart
Half feelings
Tepid…Tepid
-x-
Blur…
…Fog
Wipe.
Love…
…Delusion
Cynicism.
-x-
The morning hummed
On a sunny Monday
And yesterday when I slept
He left his music by my pillow
Two drops of salty tears
And many little stories on my sleepy smile…
sigh…
Vikram Seth is a magician
-x-
Life is like an ashtray
Where you drop your dreams,
And very often the one’s of the others too
-x-
Litter everywhere
You have trampled
all that I gave thee
Moments, memories,
hopes let to the wind
Crushed under your indifference
And strewn asunder gifts of love
Now they lie hurt
With their eyes on the doorstep
In the long lost memory lane
-x-
I am the end
I am the means
I live through my dreams
I play to the extreme
The conversations we share
Are nothing, nowhere
I am their creator
In form and fiction
You speak what I dream
I hear what I want to
-x-
Tepid…Tepid…
Is your love rascal
Tepid…Tepid
Young fool
Innocent of dark
Depths of the heart
And love games of the mind
Tepid…tepid
Your embrace
Half heart
Half feelings
Tepid…Tepid
-x-
Blur…
…Fog
Wipe.
Love…
…Delusion
Cynicism.
-x-
The morning hummed
On a sunny Monday
And yesterday when I slept
He left his music by my pillow
Two drops of salty tears
And many little stories on my sleepy smile…
sigh…
Vikram Seth is a magician
-x-
Life is like an ashtray
Where you drop your dreams,
And very often the one’s of the others too
-x-
Nothing
I am here,
And yet I am not.
I have covered my frozen consciousness with a white sheath,
And let go off time’s strange grasp.
I have donned the garbs of a traveler,
And gone beyond.
I have seen the yonder skies.
I have seen the rain denied.
I have felt all that I never dreamt about.
I have drowned in despair.
I have emerged mellower, perhaps stronger.
I have enjoyed much blazing sun.
I have smiled at the icy winds.
I have risen above strange words called…
Desire, ambition, love and friendship.
I don’t feel the need to be,
Nor do I feel the need to not be.
I bask in my emptiness,
And all that I once found drab and boring
I rejoice in their glory.
All that is superficial and shallow,
In flip side is not so.
All that I mean to say,
Tomorrow may not be the same.
So I have gone away…
To nothingness.
Nothingness I embrace you!
And yet I am not.
I have covered my frozen consciousness with a white sheath,
And let go off time’s strange grasp.
I have donned the garbs of a traveler,
And gone beyond.
I have seen the yonder skies.
I have seen the rain denied.
I have felt all that I never dreamt about.
I have drowned in despair.
I have emerged mellower, perhaps stronger.
I have enjoyed much blazing sun.
I have smiled at the icy winds.
I have risen above strange words called…
Desire, ambition, love and friendship.
I don’t feel the need to be,
Nor do I feel the need to not be.
I bask in my emptiness,
And all that I once found drab and boring
I rejoice in their glory.
All that is superficial and shallow,
In flip side is not so.
All that I mean to say,
Tomorrow may not be the same.
So I have gone away…
To nothingness.
Nothingness I embrace you!
Yet again...
I have got an extraordinary capacity to forget, misplace, lose or do something wrong with things. While my friends have conferred me with celebrity status in this aspect, I am not quite kicked about it. Sometimes it makes me feel why me?... Makes me feel so frustrated that I feel I should list down my stupidities and invite people to tell me their stories which are equally stupid or worse than mine…
Let me begin with the latest one… Smart that I am I ignored half a dozen HDFC ATM’s around my office of which I have a debit card and chose to withdraw money from an AXIS bank ATM. This despite the fact that my colleague had just conveyed me of her inhibitions in using her ATM card at another bank, because her father had recently lost his ATM card to some moron ATM machine of some other bank. I not only refused to listen to her sound advice but also bragged that I always withdrew my money from whichever ATM was convenient, be it of HDFC or any other bank. Now it so happened that the ATM machine which we went to, had the good sense of refusing my card for the first couple of times when I tried to forcibly feed it my card. But persistent that I am I invited my own doom, and tried to insert the card by twisting and turning the card at various angles.
Finally, seeing my single-minded dedication the moron swallowed my card, only to flash a moment later “Sorry link with satellite broken…” the screen continued like this for 10 minutes and finally when it went back to normal the only thing it had to say was “welcome to axis bank”…it is pointless to say here that my card had been very conveniently digested.
(I will do another write up on what happened post this and how caring the customer care personnel are)
Let me tell you there many more such bank related incidents which I have had. I have had the good fortune of forgetting my ATM pin on one other occasion, and having used the wrong pin doggedly for more than three times got my ATM card blocked for good. On yet another incident, after withdrawing the money and being super excited to spend it I forgot my ATM card inside the ATM machine. But that is not the catch I went ahead and did my shopping without even realizing I had forgotten my card inside the machine. It was only while I was returning I happened to cross the same ATM and the good old guard returned me the ATM card.
If you are not yet thoroughly disgusted let me tell you of the another filmy instance when I thought I lost my pan card. That day too I was on a shopping spree, lost in my own world. Suddenly, I realized my wallet had disappeared, along with it my debit card and room keys. After much cribbing I went to the police station to write a report. A month later, I realized my pan card was nowhere to be found. I ransacked my whole room, delayed a number of other urgent processes which required a pan card. My roommate suspected that I must have lost it with my wallet, and suddenly I found it quite a plausible reason. I cribbed again and went to the police station again, paid money and got a duplicate pan card made basically doing the same thing twice. But the story doesn’t end here. In utter disdain and mockery of all my efforts, my original and so called lost pan card resurfaced in an unseen corner of my suitcase just a few days after I got my duplicate pan card made.…and the current status is that the duplicate pan card on which I had spent extra money is missing.
Let’s move on to other stupid anecdotes. Every morning when I half-wake-up, (‘half-wake-up’ because I do everything before reaching office wordlessly as though I am sleep walking) I either make breakfast or lunch or nothing…err that sounded unnecessary. Anyways, the food / dabba we get at office is awful. So, sometimes I take the pains to prepare lunch on my own. On one such fateful day, when I had good home cooked food lying right on my desk, I conveniently and absolutely chose to forget all about it. I went ahead ordering my dabba as I did on all other days when I didn’t get lunch from home. At lunch time, I obviously had surplus food on which my friends happily feasted on…
This is the last story I am going to tell you…While on the road whenever I have to attend a call I forget to keep back my cell. Once I continued to walk almost 200 yards with my cell phone pressed to my ears even though I had ended the call long ago. Much to my embarrassment I realized every one was staring at me as I looked like a dumbo…
Now, the turn is yours…
Let me begin with the latest one… Smart that I am I ignored half a dozen HDFC ATM’s around my office of which I have a debit card and chose to withdraw money from an AXIS bank ATM. This despite the fact that my colleague had just conveyed me of her inhibitions in using her ATM card at another bank, because her father had recently lost his ATM card to some moron ATM machine of some other bank. I not only refused to listen to her sound advice but also bragged that I always withdrew my money from whichever ATM was convenient, be it of HDFC or any other bank. Now it so happened that the ATM machine which we went to, had the good sense of refusing my card for the first couple of times when I tried to forcibly feed it my card. But persistent that I am I invited my own doom, and tried to insert the card by twisting and turning the card at various angles.
Finally, seeing my single-minded dedication the moron swallowed my card, only to flash a moment later “Sorry link with satellite broken…” the screen continued like this for 10 minutes and finally when it went back to normal the only thing it had to say was “welcome to axis bank”…it is pointless to say here that my card had been very conveniently digested.
(I will do another write up on what happened post this and how caring the customer care personnel are)
Let me tell you there many more such bank related incidents which I have had. I have had the good fortune of forgetting my ATM pin on one other occasion, and having used the wrong pin doggedly for more than three times got my ATM card blocked for good. On yet another incident, after withdrawing the money and being super excited to spend it I forgot my ATM card inside the ATM machine. But that is not the catch I went ahead and did my shopping without even realizing I had forgotten my card inside the machine. It was only while I was returning I happened to cross the same ATM and the good old guard returned me the ATM card.
If you are not yet thoroughly disgusted let me tell you of the another filmy instance when I thought I lost my pan card. That day too I was on a shopping spree, lost in my own world. Suddenly, I realized my wallet had disappeared, along with it my debit card and room keys. After much cribbing I went to the police station to write a report. A month later, I realized my pan card was nowhere to be found. I ransacked my whole room, delayed a number of other urgent processes which required a pan card. My roommate suspected that I must have lost it with my wallet, and suddenly I found it quite a plausible reason. I cribbed again and went to the police station again, paid money and got a duplicate pan card made basically doing the same thing twice. But the story doesn’t end here. In utter disdain and mockery of all my efforts, my original and so called lost pan card resurfaced in an unseen corner of my suitcase just a few days after I got my duplicate pan card made.…and the current status is that the duplicate pan card on which I had spent extra money is missing.
Let’s move on to other stupid anecdotes. Every morning when I half-wake-up, (‘half-wake-up’ because I do everything before reaching office wordlessly as though I am sleep walking) I either make breakfast or lunch or nothing…err that sounded unnecessary. Anyways, the food / dabba we get at office is awful. So, sometimes I take the pains to prepare lunch on my own. On one such fateful day, when I had good home cooked food lying right on my desk, I conveniently and absolutely chose to forget all about it. I went ahead ordering my dabba as I did on all other days when I didn’t get lunch from home. At lunch time, I obviously had surplus food on which my friends happily feasted on…
This is the last story I am going to tell you…While on the road whenever I have to attend a call I forget to keep back my cell. Once I continued to walk almost 200 yards with my cell phone pressed to my ears even though I had ended the call long ago. Much to my embarrassment I realized every one was staring at me as I looked like a dumbo…
Now, the turn is yours…
Life sans ambition
How important is it to have an ambition? Why kids are asked again and again what their ambition is?
I never believed in ambitions. My fierce lack of ambitions surprised people, sometimes even me. The only ambition I ever had was to become an engineer like my father, simply because my sister also said the same thing. As I grew up I was less and less convinced of it myself and finally by the time I opted for arts I was convinced I was not cut out for it at all.
I entered advertising like a lot of other people, people who didn’t know what to do with there lives. I don’t see myself becoming a Prasoon Joshi or an Amitav Ghosh. I am not sure I want to either. The truth is I am too lazy to do anything, too bored and sometimes… I confess, the thought scares me…But mostly I am least bothered about it.
Then one day someone asked me, “What do you expect from yourself? Don’t you have any expectations from yourself?” I didn’t think twice before answering “
Later when I thought about it I realized there was much truth in it. My expectations more or less and even my moods depended on what others would or would not do.
Perhaps it was during those moments of self-realization I remembered the lines from one of my most favourite movie- ‘The Revolutionary Road…
“I want to feel things…. How’s that for an ambition?”
This is how I want to live my life…I want to see things, experience things. And yes I don’t really need an ambition, ‘an ambition in the strict sense of the word’. Now that I have made this crucial discovery I find myself at complete peace. I don’t think I will need to dependant on anyone ever.
I feel liberated. I feel excited for the life ahead… I think I have finally discovered myself…
I never believed in ambitions. My fierce lack of ambitions surprised people, sometimes even me. The only ambition I ever had was to become an engineer like my father, simply because my sister also said the same thing. As I grew up I was less and less convinced of it myself and finally by the time I opted for arts I was convinced I was not cut out for it at all.
I entered advertising like a lot of other people, people who didn’t know what to do with there lives. I don’t see myself becoming a Prasoon Joshi or an Amitav Ghosh. I am not sure I want to either. The truth is I am too lazy to do anything, too bored and sometimes… I confess, the thought scares me…But mostly I am least bothered about it.
Then one day someone asked me, “What do you expect from yourself? Don’t you have any expectations from yourself?” I didn’t think twice before answering “
Later when I thought about it I realized there was much truth in it. My expectations more or less and even my moods depended on what others would or would not do.
Perhaps it was during those moments of self-realization I remembered the lines from one of my most favourite movie- ‘The Revolutionary Road…
“I want to feel things…. How’s that for an ambition?”
This is how I want to live my life…I want to see things, experience things. And yes I don’t really need an ambition, ‘an ambition in the strict sense of the word’. Now that I have made this crucial discovery I find myself at complete peace. I don’t think I will need to dependant on anyone ever.
I feel liberated. I feel excited for the life ahead… I think I have finally discovered myself…
Shorts
I tried telling myself it’s over
Smiled that happy smile
Which said, “Shut up liar”
Smiled that happy smile
Which said, “Shut up liar”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I felt it coming
Running hot through my veins
…inspiration
Running hot through my veins
…inspiration
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deep inside the crevices
Must be their filthy mind
On second thoughts it isn’t filthy
Lol coz’ it isn’t dere
Must be their filthy mind
On second thoughts it isn’t filthy
Lol coz’ it isn’t dere
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I think a hellva lot
And then think why do I think hellva lot??
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fail to find the music in life
Live in semi-deaf madness
And there you sit in a corner doing nothing about it
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Life set in a shoe box
A nano hole to through which to see & regret
what could have been
Stiff suffocation for a roommate
Dwarfed hopes and malnourished emtions
And then think why do I think hellva lot??
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fail to find the music in life
Live in semi-deaf madness
And there you sit in a corner doing nothing about it
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Life set in a shoe box
A nano hole to through which to see & regret
what could have been
Stiff suffocation for a roommate
Dwarfed hopes and malnourished emtions
Hours & days to live minus life
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
U said ‘no’
And bled to death
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I sprinkled the seeds of little madness
It grew up into a full blown tree
And ate me up one day
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
And bled to death
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I sprinkled the seeds of little madness
It grew up into a full blown tree
And ate me up one day
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You and I went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
I fell down and broke my crown
You felt sad
Went little mad, when you saw me dead
Sometime later people said
You found some water
And lived happily ever after
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walked on unsteady feet
Wobble bobble
Damned love, stand confident!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I beat you like mad
And said, “Will you love me now forever?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The signboard said,
“Don’t disturb”
And still you came barging in
With your awful heart
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kissed me dead
Threw me in the ravines
A crow came and ate my love
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Volatile winds beat my mind
Bring the fire extinguisher
Less I scorch your face
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Running running
Between tyres and papers
Squeezed in a little happiness
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
We both sat
on the crocodile bench
…fighting
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You bought me a Barbie
And called me baby baby
I banged it on your head
And said screw you
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I protested write poems to me
Sure he gave a reaction
His ‘have you lost it’ look
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I said,
“Psycho it’s my turn to be depressed”
He laughed his silvery gurgle “Ya right”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s turning yellow
Stale and diseased
From the soft blush of the morning sky
To the rosy insides of hope
To the hues of tipsy red passion
Finally,
Poor ol’ love is turning stale yellow
It’s time, to press the refresh button
To fetch a pail of water
I fell down and broke my crown
You felt sad
Went little mad, when you saw me dead
Sometime later people said
You found some water
And lived happily ever after
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walked on unsteady feet
Wobble bobble
Damned love, stand confident!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I beat you like mad
And said, “Will you love me now forever?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The signboard said,
“Don’t disturb”
And still you came barging in
With your awful heart
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kissed me dead
Threw me in the ravines
A crow came and ate my love
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Volatile winds beat my mind
Bring the fire extinguisher
Less I scorch your face
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Running running
Between tyres and papers
Squeezed in a little happiness
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
We both sat
on the crocodile bench
…fighting
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You bought me a Barbie
And called me baby baby
I banged it on your head
And said screw you
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I protested write poems to me
Sure he gave a reaction
His ‘have you lost it’ look
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I said,
“Psycho it’s my turn to be depressed”
He laughed his silvery gurgle “Ya right”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s turning yellow
Stale and diseased
From the soft blush of the morning sky
To the rosy insides of hope
To the hues of tipsy red passion
Finally,
Poor ol’ love is turning stale yellow
It’s time, to press the refresh button
Even Kareena Kapoor is not getting married, why should I?
I think the title itself says it all….
In the Great Book of Virtues for Indian girls there is an infinite list of dos and don’ts. Like the utterly irrational correct age for marriage. Inadvertently, all Indian girls (I pity the abused male lot equally if not more) are like pieces of floating ice on icy cold water, floating from this virtue to virtue, do’s to don’ts, here to there until they finally melt.
It’s seldom that Indian parents wish for a girl. And if and when she is born, with sad resignation they will tom-tom “a girl is equally welcome”. The moment she is born, the girl child is supposed to be fair, a dark one is treated to frantic home remedies supposed to magically change her by the time she grows up. And if she does not have brothers there will be sad sighs “no brothers”.
Too old to stay home alone. Too young to go out alone. That’s not the correct shade. Boys are not the right company in growing years. Oh he is your brother. (Relief) Outings = Family visits. The hem is too high. He is just a friend??? Did he call for notes? You have a bf, so marriage is on the cards. The colour too loud. Voice not right. Back not straight. Attitude unbecoming. Temper so alarming. Interests so weird. Subjects are so unlady-like. That’s a hobby not a profession. Don’t believe in god?? Ever heard of something so strange? Won’t wear salwar kameez, then what will you wear? Keep pulling your nose to make it grow longer. My she looks like her father.. Tut! Tut!. No brother to look after. Come back by evening. So late??? The where were you stares… So you have finally came back from your tuitions?
How will you do house work? Little bit of house work is a must. Save money, it will come handy. You want to join a gym. Please do. Internet, why don’t you sign in at some matrimony site. Digital Camera = Click your wedding portfolio. Another birthdayL. You want to wait for another couple of years??? I also got married at your age. Ya but we have to look from now. The suspicious do you have a bf stare? So and so’s son got married to so and so’s daughter, the girl was younger than you. Or worse still so and so’s son aunty told about is getting married. Implied- you missed the golden opportunity!! This is the right age to get married…f&^$%## O**^%$ who are you to decide?
SCREAM!!!!!.........
Won't offer any reason. I simply declare a No-Marriage Mission!
I won’t float into marriage.
In the Great Book of Virtues for Indian girls there is an infinite list of dos and don’ts. Like the utterly irrational correct age for marriage. Inadvertently, all Indian girls (I pity the abused male lot equally if not more) are like pieces of floating ice on icy cold water, floating from this virtue to virtue, do’s to don’ts, here to there until they finally melt.
It’s seldom that Indian parents wish for a girl. And if and when she is born, with sad resignation they will tom-tom “a girl is equally welcome”. The moment she is born, the girl child is supposed to be fair, a dark one is treated to frantic home remedies supposed to magically change her by the time she grows up. And if she does not have brothers there will be sad sighs “no brothers”.
Too old to stay home alone. Too young to go out alone. That’s not the correct shade. Boys are not the right company in growing years. Oh he is your brother. (Relief) Outings = Family visits. The hem is too high. He is just a friend??? Did he call for notes? You have a bf, so marriage is on the cards. The colour too loud. Voice not right. Back not straight. Attitude unbecoming. Temper so alarming. Interests so weird. Subjects are so unlady-like. That’s a hobby not a profession. Don’t believe in god?? Ever heard of something so strange? Won’t wear salwar kameez, then what will you wear? Keep pulling your nose to make it grow longer. My she looks like her father.. Tut! Tut!. No brother to look after. Come back by evening. So late??? The where were you stares… So you have finally came back from your tuitions?
How will you do house work? Little bit of house work is a must. Save money, it will come handy. You want to join a gym. Please do. Internet, why don’t you sign in at some matrimony site. Digital Camera = Click your wedding portfolio. Another birthdayL. You want to wait for another couple of years??? I also got married at your age. Ya but we have to look from now. The suspicious do you have a bf stare? So and so’s son got married to so and so’s daughter, the girl was younger than you. Or worse still so and so’s son aunty told about is getting married. Implied- you missed the golden opportunity!! This is the right age to get married…f&^$%## O**^%$ who are you to decide?
SCREAM!!!!!.........
Won't offer any reason. I simply declare a No-Marriage Mission!
I won’t float into marriage.
Some Disjointed Thoughts
Vomit
Spill it out
Spill it out
What you kept buried for so long
Words that you have been chewing
Never letting escape
Vomit it out
............................................................................................................................................................................
I am pissed
A cheap pirated DVD and a Linda Goodman
Suddenly kept away
Have decided my day
...........................................................................................................................................................................
Bland tasteless minutes
Multiplied by directionless hours
And more hours minus you
............................................................................................................................................................................
Let it itch
Let it itch
This urge of touching where the hand doesn't reach
This moth eating into my mind
Let it itch
Let it itch
This awareness is like life
Like oxygen to my sleeping dreams
Let it itch
Let it itch
............................................................................................................................................................................
It's not fair
Think of my humiliation
I bear with patience
The mishaps of your temper
Its not fair
..........................................................................................................................................................................
I live in a valley of bliss
Where there is a no one to disturb me
I live in a silence of peace
Where there is a noisy little heart
I live in a deep well
With an earful of gurgling ideas
I reach out to the water of the deep
And travel many mindless forests
I wander through many forests
Some green some dead
I meet many animals
Always ready to pounce on mine
I live in a valley of bliss
Spill it out
Spill it out
What you kept buried for so long
Words that you have been chewing
Never letting escape
Vomit it out
............................................................................................................................................................................
I am pissed
A cheap pirated DVD and a Linda Goodman
Suddenly kept away
Have decided my day
...........................................................................................................................................................................
Bland tasteless minutes
Multiplied by directionless hours
And more hours minus you
............................................................................................................................................................................
Let it itch
Let it itch
This urge of touching where the hand doesn't reach
This moth eating into my mind
Let it itch
Let it itch
This awareness is like life
Like oxygen to my sleeping dreams
Let it itch
Let it itch
............................................................................................................................................................................
It's not fair
Think of my humiliation
I bear with patience
The mishaps of your temper
Its not fair
..........................................................................................................................................................................
I live in a valley of bliss
Where there is a no one to disturb me
I live in a silence of peace
Where there is a noisy little heart
I live in a deep well
With an earful of gurgling ideas
I reach out to the water of the deep
And travel many mindless forests
I wander through many forests
Some green some dead
I meet many animals
Always ready to pounce on mine
I live in a valley of bliss
Untitled
On a dried mat of tears
Who can write the story of shock?
It doesn't register
Doesn’t pain
Doesn’t scream
Doesn’t cry
And still it was written
Who can write the story of shock?
It doesn't register
Doesn’t pain
Doesn’t scream
Doesn’t cry
And still it was written
The murder of the perfect day
Now,
Birthdays are so FAKE. A shortcut to please someone. An excuse to drink till dawn. A competition who can give the most expensive party, the better gift.
Birthdays why are they so fake? Why would I want someone who doesn’t even like me to come and wish me? What is everyone pretend to be so happy about such fake birthdays? Why does anyone have to be embarrassed about not remembering my B’day? I seriously don’t want to remember them myself.
I don’t think there is anything to celebrate my B’ day. The people who care nothing for you, why should they make such a fuss about you B’ days. And yet why do people who mean a lot to you forget your B’ day. Is it something to do with growing up? That simply, for no apparent reason you start forgetting them.
What is it with birthdays that people don’t remember them and yet don’t let you forget them?
This time,
After the disappointment of the past couple of years, I decided to forget my B’ day. And hoped everyone else would too. As always the date was hidden on all the so called social networking sites.
I also planned to switch off my cell for the entire 24 hours of the day. Because I believe phone is the main instrument for mischief. This would serve several purposes-
1) I wouldn’t be disappointed that no one called, as I could easily presume whoever mattered had called
2) I wouldn’t be reminded of my B day again and again, and by extension I wouldn’t feel bad that nothing special happened
3) It would help me treat it like just another day and last
4) It was my vengeance on those who forgot my previous B day.
So, at the stroke of midnight I began my experiment. Some over excited people had msgd before 12. I heartily ignored the sinning souls. The day seemed to start well as my flat mates seemed to have forgotten everything about it.
I went to office and was disgusted when I was given a card by the adm guy. This is how they exploit your B day, by making it official. They actually send a mail to everyone’s official ID to remind them. I still kept graciously mum, however, some of them found out and came to wish me. Some friends continued to chat with me throughout the day completely forgetting the day.
Another one thought, it was ok to ask me if she had missed something. This after she had forgotten it last time also. Well in the evening there was cake cutting. I didn’t know whether I should be flattered, as it was for three people together, whose B days had gone long back.
Well after I came home, I was pretty curious and switched on my cell for a couple of minutes. No one called L and there were just a couple of msgs. That’s it. I switched it off again and went out with one of my flat mates. Suddenly, another flat mate of mine calls up on her cell and starts apologizing me about how she forget it. I just lied its too late. It was yesterday. He He! Another experiment. Thought it would shut her up, from doing something silly like getting a gift.
After dinner I came home, trying to tell myself it’s was after all just another day. There were no frantic phone calls from my BF at my friend’s number. Its 12 am, the day ends.
My experiment is over.
Suddenly I hear the rest of my flat mates returning home. Expecting foul play, I quickly switch off the lights and jump to my bed to feign sleep. But they had to embarrass me with a stupid cake. It was probably the saddest part of the day. I had to cut the cake, I tried not to be rude but couldn’t help much. Hoped it would be over quickly, at least that bit happened pretty fast. The minute the cake was finished they left me alone.
Why did they have to do this formality? Why couldn’t people just let you be?
Its so sad birthdays aren’t anything like what they were when I was 10. I can’t ask what I want. I can’t expect everyone to be excited about it. Only now I realize how lovely things were back then and all because of my parent’s efforts.
With age why do we change? Why do I want everyone to forget my birthday and still am disappointed when nothing special happens. Why this dichotomy? Why can’t B days be same forever? And what pray is the point of this write up???
- The point is I am trying to accept the inadequacies of this fake concept. The vast difference between what is and what could be. I am accepting my hypocrisies.
P.S. I don’t want anyone wishing me belated Happy B’ Day.
Birthdays are so FAKE. A shortcut to please someone. An excuse to drink till dawn. A competition who can give the most expensive party, the better gift.
Birthdays why are they so fake? Why would I want someone who doesn’t even like me to come and wish me? What is everyone pretend to be so happy about such fake birthdays? Why does anyone have to be embarrassed about not remembering my B’day? I seriously don’t want to remember them myself.
I don’t think there is anything to celebrate my B’ day. The people who care nothing for you, why should they make such a fuss about you B’ days. And yet why do people who mean a lot to you forget your B’ day. Is it something to do with growing up? That simply, for no apparent reason you start forgetting them.
What is it with birthdays that people don’t remember them and yet don’t let you forget them?
This time,
After the disappointment of the past couple of years, I decided to forget my B’ day. And hoped everyone else would too. As always the date was hidden on all the so called social networking sites.
I also planned to switch off my cell for the entire 24 hours of the day. Because I believe phone is the main instrument for mischief. This would serve several purposes-
1) I wouldn’t be disappointed that no one called, as I could easily presume whoever mattered had called
2) I wouldn’t be reminded of my B day again and again, and by extension I wouldn’t feel bad that nothing special happened
3) It would help me treat it like just another day and last
4) It was my vengeance on those who forgot my previous B day.
So, at the stroke of midnight I began my experiment. Some over excited people had msgd before 12. I heartily ignored the sinning souls. The day seemed to start well as my flat mates seemed to have forgotten everything about it.
I went to office and was disgusted when I was given a card by the adm guy. This is how they exploit your B day, by making it official. They actually send a mail to everyone’s official ID to remind them. I still kept graciously mum, however, some of them found out and came to wish me. Some friends continued to chat with me throughout the day completely forgetting the day.
Another one thought, it was ok to ask me if she had missed something. This after she had forgotten it last time also. Well in the evening there was cake cutting. I didn’t know whether I should be flattered, as it was for three people together, whose B days had gone long back.
Well after I came home, I was pretty curious and switched on my cell for a couple of minutes. No one called L and there were just a couple of msgs. That’s it. I switched it off again and went out with one of my flat mates. Suddenly, another flat mate of mine calls up on her cell and starts apologizing me about how she forget it. I just lied its too late. It was yesterday. He He! Another experiment. Thought it would shut her up, from doing something silly like getting a gift.
After dinner I came home, trying to tell myself it’s was after all just another day. There were no frantic phone calls from my BF at my friend’s number. Its 12 am, the day ends.
My experiment is over.
Suddenly I hear the rest of my flat mates returning home. Expecting foul play, I quickly switch off the lights and jump to my bed to feign sleep. But they had to embarrass me with a stupid cake. It was probably the saddest part of the day. I had to cut the cake, I tried not to be rude but couldn’t help much. Hoped it would be over quickly, at least that bit happened pretty fast. The minute the cake was finished they left me alone.
Why did they have to do this formality? Why couldn’t people just let you be?
Its so sad birthdays aren’t anything like what they were when I was 10. I can’t ask what I want. I can’t expect everyone to be excited about it. Only now I realize how lovely things were back then and all because of my parent’s efforts.
With age why do we change? Why do I want everyone to forget my birthday and still am disappointed when nothing special happens. Why this dichotomy? Why can’t B days be same forever? And what pray is the point of this write up???
- The point is I am trying to accept the inadequacies of this fake concept. The vast difference between what is and what could be. I am accepting my hypocrisies.
P.S. I don’t want anyone wishing me belated Happy B’ Day.
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