n' now the nerves don't end where it used to be...

the air keeps on changin'. it's thick. it's thin. n' sometimes so clean... you hear everythin' everyone says. n' then you move ahead. it's not rainin' though so i can't blame it on the clouds. n' another year endin'. but the years don't. n' just flashes everythin'.. as if it were not your own life but someone else's. findin' more than you look for till february... n' losin' it all in may. movin' with parallel thoughts... life showin' you more than you want to see. tongues tellin' more truths than your ears ask for. maybe i just want to be statues in the rain.

in the deadin' hours of the night... or in the new born mornin'

it's basically nothin' at all. like writin' a line after a lot of thinkin' n' then strikin' it out immediately. specially if it's a first line. like writin' somethin' like this in the deadenin' hours of the night or... in the new born mornin'. maybe together. when you've a letter to end but you start with this. your thoughts wrappin' each of your thoughts. maybe you too. your greatest fear n' desire is someone strippin' all your thoughts. but know you do... nakedness is not always beautiful.

a sight you love... you never see it n' that's different. two hands filled with bags mostly bring smiles. openin' them n' layin' them out is perhaps a greater joy. changin' your shirt to match your sweater is not sanity at all. doin' it in the deadenin' hours of the night... or in the new born mornin' is totally out of the senses. writin' it down is oh-so-crazy.

there's so much of me in myself... but still amazed by this resembled unrecognition or recognized disemblance. it's just like watchin' me lyin' down... seein' me. n' seein' nothin' like me. n' then slowly turnin' like me. but the pause is just for a while. n' then i turn away.

it's like the pencil song in perfect silence... in the deadenin' hours of the night... or in the new born mornin'. because when the world wakes... the pencil refuses to sing. it's like people comin' n' starin' at you... n' then slowly turnin' away. it's like the endings startin' again. it's like the forgetfulness of life... but rememberin' it all over again when someone asks you the way. it's like confusion holdin' your last breath.. when your senses have already volunteered indifference. it's like statues in the rain. because statues in the rain are just like the stones in your pockets. no one else is like them... n' they're like no one else. they're always there. n' they're not.

rigmarole

have you seen her color? it's like... [...not so good...]. n' her feet. you can use it as an axe to cut down the giant oak tree if you want to.

the day had started with the declaration of how big a loser i'm... n' i said "Thank You". the day had ended with the declaration that it must be a rarity to find someone so borin' as me... n' i said "Thank You". Thank You's in pairs like that markin' the beginnin' and the endin' are never in your favor perhaps.

it was autumn n' i was young. the book was on "General Theory of Relativity" n' i read "Gravity can bend space"... n' i felt Blake. couldn't have stopped from fallin' in love with Einstein. neither with gravity. both the love affairs are fairly intact.

the landscape of nudity is like sunshine. mostly radiant. you can smell the scentless heat. the anonymity is totally identifiable. nudity not acclaimed but only proclaimed. partiality had only managed to add profundity. a close up could have easily added fecundity as well. but somehow that dress was makin' her dignity lesser than usual... although i was seein' her for the first n' last time. i was partially ashamed. could have been substantially if i wasn't partially aroused. my shame was feedin' upon my arousal... n' the latter was feedin' upon her recedin' dignity. when n' how did i become oh so beastly?

feedin' upon smoulderin' coal is adequately painful. but you can rarely challenge your survival when it is your only diet. livin' amongst these walls is difficult as well... when the bricks are just like mirrors which shows what you were all the time.

n' "fe fi fo fum" doesn't look so scary if you managed to miss the second line... which incidentally i did. n' then i was very frightened when i heard it later. scary things can be really fun if you don't get them.

dear all - the - butterflies - which - have - died

n' then just one day which seems no different from any other day... people walk away from your life. n' then... you can only hear the sound of the record player when all the songs have already ended. n' then there's no one to tell you when this darkness will break. there's no one to tell you about the next sunrise. n' then there are a couple of infinite december nights throughout the year n' you've got so much of time to talk to yourself.

n' the mental illiterates orbit around your life... contributin' just to multiply the astronomical waste. they don't know how to read your mind... n' your thoughts do not say a single word. n' all the words you speak now just manages to remind you of all the words which you've already spoken... as if you've moved into some new house where someone stayed for so long... every smell confirmin' the absence of the previous lives which stayed there once.

people do not write obituaries for the dead butterflies... n' you must understand why. they're all so short lived... this world would have been just about stories of the dead. it's not just me but the whole world which lives in the past... as they only talk about your beautiful wings but where do the dead bodies go?

n' i want to burn down all my years... so that i forget everythin' one by one... the past becomin' the present with recedin' traces of the future... n' i perish as an infant. i want to curse all the people of partial amnesia.... forgettin' about my death.. n' talkin' about my butterfly-life with colorful wings.

condolence-fully yours,
.....

p.s. you must understand... this is not quite a time of meetin' someone n' fallin' in love. this is a time of fallin' in love n' meetin' someone.

scribblin'

am i dead? yeah may be i'm not. because the things i feel..... i don't think the dead can ever do so. n' do i have the right to say so.. when i claim i'm not? n' no i shall not write remember in a postcard... but i shall write refrain. just a word. a lot of people do not use it. some of them do. still not a lot of them do not know how to mean it. i guess it's worth writin' it down.

death...

speed of light
in stationary eyes.
write a wrong
please unsing the song.
a dream to break
and a sleep that will wake.
starve the appetite
with hyper consumption
pay the whore
to attempt molestation.
the fire is burnt
to extinguish my thirst.
dry the ice
and wet my veins.
run the walk
sodium vomit.
swim offshore
away from the promised land.

n' life always changes. the livin' becomes the dead. the dead becomes the livin'. n' even though i firmly believe in ghosts i wasn't talkin' about 'em

i agree with you. if only death could have been as easy as just walkin' out of a room n' closin' it down. but rather it isn't. the burden of life is mostly heavy. n' indeed it's a lot of hard work which has mostly kept me alive. the hardest part... to remain alive all the while. i can't walk through the doors... i can't.

n' life mostly reminds me of the people i had met. all of them were real. n' real people must hurt. a tears-your-soul-apart kind of hurt. n' i remember all the times when i wasn't ignored was actually used up to hurt me. not a moment wasted.. not a moment lost.

my last exposure to life was somethin' like a fountain pen write up.... with not a lot of ink left in it. the pen which was refusin' to write... was actually forced upon. the pen was jerked till it puked blue blood. n' the waste was fed back to it. the torture was documented in the form of lumps of circular paths which somewhat took the form of a perfect solid circle.. but actually it wasn't. the pen was made to write. the page was turned after everythin' was written.

i like fiction more than reality. n' maybe that's why i try bein' fictional. someone whom people have heard of... most of them still haven't met. n' the rare few who had don't quite believe in it. i like fiction more than reality because unlike the latter... fiction doesn't have to need an endin' so that people can remember it.

n' mine was a ghost-life long gone.. insubstantially but yet unfailingly. an ordinary life out of so many. with regrets, dreams n' hopes. both joyful n' tearful nights... filled with darkness yet some of it was full of light.

i take most of the correct decisions from my mind.. even though it is entirely grey. most of them get over ruled by my porcelain heart n' this mostly makes me a man full of contradictions. but they're not with a purpose of deceit. i stand by all my contradictions n' go with all of them.

i don't like to talk about any of my achievements. mostly because i feel the ones who know them are also entitled to know about all my under achievements.. n' the latter list is definitely a longer one. it's the same reason i don't want to reveal the day i was born. because then you must know the day i shall die. n' death is always more personal than life.

n' you may come along if you want to. but i must inform you.. you are NOT invited. i've been talkin' to all of you for a real long time. n' not in any one of those occasions i was actually talkin' what i really wanted to but tried givin' you what you wanted to hear. maybe at times i might have assumed wrong... but that can't take away the glory of my efforts. n' now i want to cut down my conversations.. because yesterday i heard myself n' i sounded like a poor old sod.

embers of frost

canyon walls
broken thoughts
soul walks
with no trace

embers of frost
dirty secrets
life in front of the eyes
feelings ignored.

truly yours
without being mine
disguised minds
ancient conscience

Ho!

Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder where it's so white as snow,
Privately divided by a world so undecided and there’s no___where to go
In between the cover of another perfect wonder where it’s so white as snow
Running through the field where all my tracks will be concealed and there's nowhere to go.

i don't usually do this..... but i guess it's time to either keep havin' sex or move on!

Come to decide that the things that I tried were in my life just to get high on.
When I sit alone, come get a little known but I need more than myself this time.
Step from the road to the sea to the sky, and I do believe that we rely on
when I lay it on, come get to play it on , all my life to sacrifice.

Hey oh...listen what I say oh
I got your hey oh, now listen what I say oh
When will I know that I really can't go to the well once more time to decide on.
When it's killing me, when will I really see, all that I need to look inside.
Come to believe that I better not leave before I get my chance to ride,
When it's killing me, what do I really need, all that I need to look inside.

Hey oh...listen what I say oh
come back and Hey oh lookin’ what I say oh

When to descend to amend for a friend All the channels that have broken down.
Now you bring it up, I’m gonna ring it up
Just to hear you sing it out
Step from the road to the sea to the sky, and I do believe what we rely on
when I lay it on, come get to play it on all my life to sacrifice

Hey oh...Listen what I say oh
I got your hey oh...listen what I say oh

The more I see, the less I know, the more I like to let it go - hey oh woah woah.

mostly me...

i live in a city where people do not bother to stick their heads out of the windows. n' i do not quite understand how. not even their hands... their elbows. i travel in buses where most people do not stare at the seemingly fast moving streets when the bus is doin' 60. they do not get the feel of travellin' time because they do not look into the road from their windows. instead... they've a radio. i might get one too. i mean soon.

i live in a world where everyone agrees to - "Cancer must be fought"... n' still most of them ignores evolution. i hate dogs n' i mostly mean the pet ones. but i always find some resemblance of me with the stray ones. n' i'm sorry for them too. i love the ozone layer more than the blue skies... n' i rarely count the stars even when i'm mostly sleepless.

i suddenly start thinkin' like a person who is still readin' a book n' who has got just a few more days to live. n' i think... he mostly reads while arguin' with himself - "should i continue readin'?"... n' takes a scary breath when he turns one more page... not sure if he'll turn the next one.

i always switch off the lights when i want to cry. i couldn't yesterday though.... for i felt someone stole my tears. i regret losin' them too.

i'm mostly weird because everyone can't be wrong. n' this angst is mainly because everyone is not. there's frequent lapse of sanity in me... n' i encounter clarity breakdown often.

most people ignore me when i'm sad. there're still a few who confuses my sorrows with a joke. all my truths sound like fiction... n' my lies should have been real-er.

i dream about candlewick n' a hardwood floor. i think a lot about sex n' get turned on by women in red lingerie. i look for desktop friends n' i still believe inboxes should reveal your life. i fancy fog in spring time n' i've got memory ulcers too.

things i shall regret forever...

#1024 > expectin'. the worst part. from all the people who're tragically cold to me. i still do it.

#1025 > i always seem to fall for women who have razor sharp cheek bones... which cuts right through the sweetest part of my bones. n' i die much before hearin' the sound of my heart break.

#1026 > i'm left with no more secrets. the worst part. all the wrong people know them. i mostly live a life full of darkness now... just to earn a few new secrets to replenish the old ones.

#1027 > can't keep all my promises. the worst part. i break the ones which are made in my favor. like the ones of hatin' someone... maybe i break it every night just when i break myself.

#1028 > i think about things which makes me sadder. i dream about things... n' they just make me older... n' then.. i miss everybody every now n' then. mostly i live my life in a way as if i had long lost its manual.... n' hit n' trial most often makes me press the panic button when i reach for the switch of my bedroom lamp.

somethin' like this?

fourth door
monty hall
goats nowhere
is anyone around?

thoughts
hymns
beliefs
overdues

long sentences
always and never's
pushers and bullies
get out of my way

forever love
fast food sex
infinity's formula
compatible vocabulary

faithful orgies
colorful dust
memory hangovers
guilty nerve endings

soulful phone sex
styrofoam smiles
sharp cheekbones
skin deep cuts.


It's been seven hours and fifteen days
since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
since you took your love away
since you've been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whoever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant-but nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues,

'cause nothing compares
nothing compares to you

It's been so lonely without you here
like a bird without a song
nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
tell me baby, oh where did I go wrong?
I could put my arms around every girl I see
but they'd only remind me of you
So I went to the doctor guess what he told me
-guess what he told me
he said boy you better try to have fun
no matter what you do,
but he's a fool

'cause nothing compares
nothing compares to you

You've got a way with words...

it can't be true. oh hell no.

what i wrote...

dear megan,

i’m still tryin’ to make myself believe that you mailed me last week. can somethin’ like this ever could have happened? “yes” - i know... for now that i know.. it has happened... but why-oh-why is it still unbelievable to me!!

if only... last week’s surprises would have been without any ironies. i was carryin’ an eye infection when your mail reached my inbox. but trust me... still my senses were mesmerized with just one eye to witness every firework which were still invisible to the rest of the world.

thank you megan... for i feel kind of renewed. n’ i’m so sure i’m so out of words like never before...... because my lips have forgotten to cry n’ my eyes have forgotten to smile.. n’ all my words are all over the place. n’ i’m even not sure if i regret more for the words lost in me.. or for the words which are still not lost.. because they’re spoilin’ everythin’ by bein’ so gibberish.

Should i dare to think
in an one-eyed dream?
Lives that we unshare
couldn't why we live?
The words you wrote
I told them too.
All your thoughtful ghosts
I live them most.
Unqualified heartbeats
Can’t ask for charm
I drown myself often
in the castles of your arms.
Privacy of my schedule
makes me a mystery.
And my eyes become larger
when there's no light to help me see.
Could we never walk
by the frozen lake of time?
my heart starts forgetting
when I see our finger tips touching.
Should I dare to think
in an one-eyed dream?
Lives that we unshare
Couldn’t why we live?

speechlessly yours,
....



what megan wrote: (Mail 1)

You're welcome! You've got a way with words...

M.


i'm welcome? really? oh my godddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd.

You've got a way with words...
i do?.. yes yes.. i do **nods his head** i've got infact so many ways.. this way.. that way... full of ways. this is not real right? someone is playin' with me.. that M. can't be megan.. or can it be?

n' i can't be smilin' like this when there's no apparent reason for the whole world to understand.

what megan wrote: (Mail 2)

Oh. Have you ever heard the proverb this proverb?
"In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king."

Have you ever heard the proverb
..actually no. but how does it matter? because it sounds ssssoooo beautiful when you say it. oh-how-i-wish to hear every english proverb from you....

"In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king."
..king .. king. that's me. yeah. the one-eyed king. sounds weird though. but still feel so good about it.

so.. "you've got a way with words..." means i write well? am i readin' between the lines too much? i mean M E G A N Mc C A F F E R T Y is sayin' i write well? oh-my-god.

p.s. is there by any chance the shania twain song came to her mind?? oh just bein' curious..

You've got a way with words
You get me smiling even when it hurts
There's no way to measure what your love is worth
I can't believe the way you get through to me

amen!

how many times will i say all the right things... to all the wrong people in this world? before i finally stop to speak.... n' the answer is nowhere.... blowin' in the wind. the answer ain't blowin' in the wind!

wish i could have taken back all the words which i've spoken n' written. all of them. i wish i could stop this word business altogether... i wish i could keep myself shut. i wish i haven't spoken a single word yet.

but you can't hear the whistle when the wind starts to cry....

still keep the mirrors
full of dust
try to see your face
and there is no chance
will you see them grow
when there is no light
but the flowers have chosen
to bloom in the dark.
hidden myself
in a room full of lies
drown myself in laughter
and the tears have dried.
try to count the stars
behind the clouds
but you can't hear the whistle
when the wind starts to cry....

promises i can't keep
but they keep me busy
memories i can't fade
and they make me weary
the dreams of kissing
the bars of rhyme
went to the sewage
of frozen waste of time
now the shadows run tall
and the shadows run wide
who plays for keeps
don't play for points
still dare to keep
the kings in the back row
keep myself warm
and i taste the snow
but you can't hear the whistle
when the wind starts to cry....

cold turkeys...

you don't see a real reason in runnin' when no one at all is chasin' you. not even willin' to. but some people do. n' then... when you get the reason... you feel what's the point when they'll catch you anyhow. crazy n' lazy will always rhyme n' that can't be a coincidence.

they say this friday would be succeeded by a saturday... n' you say.. "if you say so". sometimes headaches are the only signs of your survival.. n' even when you walk.. the motion seems to be false... when you're more concerned to hold your head... as you're partially worried that it might fall down.. n' partially checkin' if it's still there. n' no matter how much the cab driver charge you... you know you're still there in the same place. but he won't agree.

you write the 4th sms of the month. make that 5th. not that you've a count of everythin'. but you know it because it was an one-way sms. you think maybe November is a month of unrequitted sms's. or is it just a reflection of your entire life... which is mostly based on acronyms written in an sms. dependin' on how people would interpret them... n' not what you really want to mean.

n' no. jessica didn't love marcus coz he did somethin' totally marcusly... which is not reproduceable or bettered. but she did ...coz she just chose him to love. so it was a matter of choice rather than anythin' else. n' it's funny in a way. i took the decision that i'm not gonna write her a second mail... when i only came up with almost a good reason just now. i'm stickin' to it anyway... so doesn't really matter a lot.

should it be that way?

the scorpion is growin' in strength. your eyes are losin' focus. the potential woman of your dreams smiles at you. n' you? you've a bottle of some lousy eye drops... hopelessly aimin' at your left eye.... you miss more than you hit. you start thinkin'... the pain revealed from your infected left eye is almost comparable if not more.. than your last broken relationship. n' the effort required to put those big huge drops into your tiny little eyes... that for some unknown a.k.a. weird reasons... do not want to open up... is as hard as impressin' a woman... specially if she fits for the ever vacant post of the mystery-woman.... woman-of-your-eternal-dreams... woman-of-all-women... woman - who - makes - you - think - of - runnin' - beneath - the - trees - till - you - suck - up - all - the - oxygen... woman - who - makes - you - fantasize - about - her - sexually - ofcourse - even - when - your - one - eye - is - completely - useless. when you just can't ignore the other thoughts inside your head although you desperately want to think romantically atleast.. if not act like that.... but those thoughts couldn't help you think in any other way but this.

thoughts like your past track record.... seems like to be a disaster. when you've failed miserably when it comes to women. women-of-everyday-life-of-sorts... women-walkin'-down-the-streets-of-sorts.... women-sittin'-in-a-broad-day-coffee-shop-of-sorts... women-of-a-complete-set-of-identifiable-pairs-of-chromosomes which you're so sure one day would be available in the market. n' how could you even think.... infact even think of thinkin' romantically about M E G A N Mc C A F F E R T Y... the big woman... the celebrity woman... the mystery-woman.... woman-of-your-eternal-dreams... woman-of-all-women... woman - who - makes - you - think - of - runnin' - beneath - the - trees - till - you - suck - up - all - the - oxygen... woman - who - makes - you - fantasize - about - her - sexually - ofcourse - even - when - your - one - eye - is - completely - useless. woman-totally-NOT-of-everyday-life-of-sorts... woman-totally-NOT-walkin'-down-the-streets-of-sorts.... woman-totally-NOT-sittin'-in-a-broad-day-coffee-shop-of-sorts... woman-of-a-complete-set-of-UNidentifiable-pairs-of-chromosomes which science can never reproduce no matter how advance it goes.

you pour some more drops to your eyes... tryin' more to tranquilize your sexual psyche than your infected eye for few more moments. by now your eyes are bleedin' with a very high salt content... n' you thinkin' it's just a reflection of your own life which is leakin' faster than your likin'. people passin' you by... thinkin' you to be cryin'... gives you a you-broke-up-again look of sorts. you don't like it.

you recall the last 24 hours. was the mail a little too casual? it didn't express you totally.... or it did in a very vanilla way. which don't make you feel any better. you think you could have hyper expressed yourelf. just to create the world's faintest of a chance of all chances... maybe initiatin' a pseudo-chemical-forecast-of-a-false-effervescence in Megan's pancreatic glands... forget about the major organs like her heart (her heart? oh-my-god). you couldn't have possibly thought of ever gettin' a reply... n' casualty takin' over the mail... subsidin' all your century old clandestine desires n' passions.. which if were not utterly useless n' disastrous... could have the ability of makin' even the Cleopatra moan. but you regret more for what you could have written than what you had.

n' now the chance has been lost. a chance that never looked like a chance. a chance no matter in how low an ebb it was... but still one. the words have already been written. the words have already been read. words which were totally harmless much to your likin'. words you could have played with a little more... words that could have strummed her elementary-hair-like-particles-in-one-of-her-toes maybe. words which could have initiated a simple ripple... turnin' into demandin' eddies... n' further into the starvin' whirlpool... with an epicentre where both you n' Megan could have lied naked in each other's arms like some vintage erotic paintin' by Picasso.

but the time is lost just as you're. n' you begin to think... this might be your perfect time to lose all your hopes... because by now you very well know... how Megan will go on livin' her life to its fullest completely unaffected... without any regrets n' without any knowledge that you'd ever written all this for her.

should i dare to think
in an one-eyed dream?
lives that we unshare
couldn't why we live?
the words you wrote
i told them too
all your thoughtful ghosts
i live them most.
unqualified heartbeats
can't ask for charm
i drown myself often
in the castles of your arms.
privacy of my schedule
makes me a mystery
n' my eyes become larger
when there's no light to help me see.
could we never walk?
by the frozen lake of time.
my heart starts forgettin'
when i see our finger tips touchin'.
should i dare to think
in an one-eyed dream?
lives that we unshare
couldn't why we live?

what you wrote:

Subject: will you ever read this yet-another-one-of-those-out-of-many-fan-mails?

dear megan,

i can’t believe i’m actually writin’ to you... n’ i’ve to regret this at the start of this mail.. no matter how much i try.. i can’t make this mail any different from a thousands you receive everyday.... n’ if you’re ever gonna read it.. i’m sure you might be tellin’ a why-at-all-need-to-make-it-different?... but i must assure you.. even if i’ll suck in the end... i’ll keep on tryin’ forever.

i was finishin’ the final pages of “second helpings” n’ was goin’ through jessica’s speech... n’ i was like so-oh-my-god... i had said those exact same lines to my mom in jan 2006. i felt so struck that a person like me already existed.. n’ it was jessica.

n’ oh by the way... i live in india.. n’ though i didn’t have no regrets for it ever... but i’m definitely havin’ second thoughts of sorts. i’ve finished readin’ both “sloppy firsts” n’ “second helpings”... but could no way manage to get “charmed thirds”... which means i’ll have to wait this wait till next year. sad isn’t it? i know.

n’ by the way.. how does jessica look like? i mean that won’t change the gravity she already has. but just wonderin’.

fanatically yours,
...

p.s. oh by the way.. you’re really very cute!

what Megan wrote:

Yes, I really do read all my email! I am so flattered to hear that you
could relate so well to Jessica, though I'm sure that such
identification comes with no small measure of angst.

As for Charmed Thirds, have you tried ordering it online via amazon.com
or bn.com?

To answer your question: Jessica has a thin runner's build, with medium
length brown hair that she doesn't bother to style into anything more
complicated than a ponytail. I think she's probably more attractive than
she thinks she is, but not a stunning beauty like Bridget. (And thanks
for the compliment, by the way!)

Thanks for writing! I must get back to work on book number four...

Best,
Megan

why do they say it's late?

after all
why do they say
it's late
when i feel it's soon

they say it's night
when i feel it's actually
just noon.

the ducks fly away
tellin' me it's winter
when i feel i've seen
my calendar n' it's june.

why do their clocks
run oh-so-fast?
why do they say
it's late
when i feel it's soon...

dear you

if only i could address you with what i do.. but i can't. n' i would never confess too. n' somethin' that i've accepted so firmly.. we don't exist.. neither of us.. n' that's the truth. ours is a floatin' relationship... apparently it seems it's goin' somewhere... but actually it's not. it's just like a bubble in an ocean. n' bubbles are just meant to burst.. that too very soon.

pessimisticly yours,
....

# of things concerning me people face difficulties to believe in...

#1267 you never had a girlfriend?

... their disbelief shows evidential expressions ... first a humble repetitive question of the same relentin' heavily on the word "ever" thinkin' that changes the question to alarming degrees.. but i don't quite see how.... "you never ever had a girlfriend?"... "umm!... by ever if you meant my tenure of life after i came out of the womb... oh hell that'd be no again.... n' just to add.. i do believe in life before n' after life" (n' that's somethin' again they find difficulty in believe in.. my belief in life before n' after life )... with residual expression of... yeah-whatever-you-say-son-of-a-bitch-as-if-you-would-make-me-believe.

me, yes, me...

If you really want to hear about it
i wonder if you do

livin’ in time
more than in space
shadows keep runnin’
taller than me

mr. sandman runnin’ deep
into my mind.
widenin’ spaces
don’t fill the void

listenin’ to the words
without any thoughts
sleepin’ my walk
still keepin’ infinity.

renderin’ more molds
than a single body
hostages of love
accompanyin’ forever

sailin’ teenage wastelands
with magnetized thoughts
faces built often
but with false improvisations.

love the flowers
but not their growth.
still afraid
with the secrets i hold
scared to share
a corner of my life

dear maa

first of all you should know these're all very recent thoughts... n' not somethin' i keep on workin' on these days which is keepin' me busy in depression... n' i hate you because i can't hide it from you.. when i can pretend to the level of oscar-award-winners... but you catch me every time even though i don't agree till the very end... n' i won't stop lyin' to you n' i can promise you that.

n' just look what happened?? a boy.. a cute one infact i must add!... livin' in such a cozy warm place called home... never goin' too far from your shadow.. without any friends.. without many answers.. infact without anythin' but just you. a boy who will always fall asleep just before his dinner.. n' you need to feed him... n' so utterly useless he was... he'll still fall asleep with the food still in his mouth... n' you'll need to tell him.. "come on swallow it!".. n' he will not fall asleep after he had his dinner till he hugged you tightly enough in bed.

then why at all this journey began... n' for whom.. for what.. where i was headin'.. n' to find what.. because i don't think anythin' was in my mind... n' i ended up here... perfectly alone.. perfectly on my own ... with a perfect empty heart.. where i can't hold you like i used to when there'll be this big thunderin' in the night time n' i wake up with fear... i can't sob in your arms when i see ghost dreams.. n' i wonder why at all do i see them. i wonder about everythin' maa.. n' you gave birth to a perfect freak... n' you have to live with it.

stupidly yours,
.....


p.s. destiny seemed almost perfect. if only it wasn't so slow. even the slowness is acceptable but it's only the deliberateness in its slowness which is always killin'.... n' maybe it shouldn't always be about the reasons. because maybe the reasons have crossed the two page boundary... both sides.... heedin' to which i should have killed myself a long time back. it's only because i've ignored them all... i'm mostly not dead since then.

n' then you suddenly come across these houses right?

good decent lookin' houses. you don't know them. never been inside them. n' then they invite you.. when you're still wound up with thoughts.... hoverin' around the voices comin' from the inside walls. the secrets which might as well be a definite part of them. n' then you follow signs. not so sure if those were actual signs or you wanted more to follow them. but nonetheless.. nobody stops you.... or charges you for trespassin'. you feel more than a guest... but not so sure either. n' just when your mind perceives everythin' in the gardens of familiarity... you're made to be a stranger.. a definite one. you're made to believe that it was only you... n' just you who mistook the signs.... n' they're already doin' you a favour.... by not pressin' any charges against you.

p.s. somethings unlike most others are so matter of the fact n' so taken for granted n' so existin'... that they don't exist.. or they might... but you don't see them. just like the "flugelbinders". maybe i can't imagine my day without them... i don't even see the odds without it. but i act as though i did somethin' n' i deserve them.

the worst part i found in a house.... each of them have a hidin' place where they hide the key... which takes you inside. n' the strkin' thing... it's not even a hidin' place because it's quite within reach n' it's way too common place n' cliched. but it still happens to work. few people will be told about it... n' the rest of the world shall be standin' on the other side of the hedge.. cruel isn't it? n' it's funny too.

nominated to unknow
the faces of fooleries
find a way to forget
the dreams of yesterdays
the seeds of lovingdale
knows nowhere to go.
walk my sleep through them.
n' there's no one to know.
the uncatalogued memories
rearranged randomly
there's no where to go
n' the ghosts shall marry me.

dear lines about nobody

Main Activities: "Scales"... my main activity hovers around balancin' scales. yeah. that's what i keep on tryin' to do. to halt the swing. but it doesn't happen too often. i mean the halt.

Main interests: cryin' in the dark? i don't know if that's my interest. the girl i had a crush on called me a masochist. i can ignore that one.. she's a fool. i'm mostly interested in walkin' on the ground rather than left dispended in the outerspace... left to wait forever to reach the vicinity of some planet.. who will embrace me with gravity... i'm interested in idle tuesdays when i can chew a bubble gum... i 'm interested in love n' hate... sometimes i'm interested in the relief hate gives me.. n' oh.. i'm interested in the love who's not so interested in me.

Who are good friends: ones who include me in their email forwards

Sweetest moment: when someone types lol in an im

Dislikes: IM a.k.a. intellectual masturbation.

Likes: everythin’ else

Lines you’ll never forget: when she who shall remain nameless said "what are you gonna do about it?" **how could you?**

Lines you wish you'd forget: when she who shall remain nameless said "what are you gonna do about it?" **how could you?**

Your opening lines of your first book if you ever write it: "...and it was probably a late Saturday night and I could still remember.... there she was standing... My soul mate with snow flakes on her hair. And yeah. She was pregnant..."

Your closing lines of the same book if you ever wrote it: "And it’s not about how it has to start or is it ever going to end... uh-uh. Maybe it’d never end or maybe it’d... or maybe it won’t take forever... but maybe just one day short of it... but it’s all about going on with it... because it goes on. Remember the other day I told you about my girlfriend and how I got her pregnant?"

"Yeah I do." Mike replied, relentlessly believing, the last punctuation I had used was not a full stop but a coma. Actually it was a full stop but his expectation made me change my mind.

"It’s really tough to deal with a woman when she’s pregnant. More so, when you do not want her to be pregnant. But that’s not the worst part that’s bothering me. The last time she called me... it was a year ago. And she called me just yesterday... She was still pregnant."

Things you like to watch: to see things go... n’ keep on lookin’ at it even when it’s not there.

Used to think: we’re who we’re.

Think now: we’re not who we’re but who we pretend we’re.

Lines hummin’ right now:
If you're leaving will you take me with you
I'm tired of talking on my phone
There is one thing I can never give you
My heart can never be your home

Deepest regret: not the ones for the choices n’ decisions people took that went so much against me... i’m mostly regrettin’ because.. while they had such privileges; i had none.... n’ i still don’t.

Want to be: james dean... n’ then save the world while i still carry this headache.

Do you think you’re wise: definitely.

Why so: because i’ve seen both... a blind man cross the road... trying to reach the other side.... n’ also.... a young girl growing old... trying to make herself a bride. *wink*

On drugs: yes

Idea of Life: no. life just can't be doin' what you wanted to do... or complainin' about what you couldn't. no. it has to be more than just that... right? just like when you deliberately got yourself wet in those first summer rains n' made a perfect entry to your room.... so that your mom don't catch you up like that.... just like your first XXX rated dream when you couldn't even realize you were passin' the threshold of your childhood... like the first lie you told your dad... when you told him you were with your best friend.... when actually it was the girl next door. life is when you've got somethin' to wait for.... life is when you feel you're gettin' late... when there's someplace you need to get back to after all of the day's work..

life is plannnin' exactly how you'll fool yourself. life is when there's love to be loved... hate to be hated... when there's someone you can be jealous of... when there's someone who is jealous of you.... when happiness chooses you.... rather than you needin' to choose it everywhere n' everytime. i guess that's life.

Final words: they tried to reach for the moon n’ i heard they got in there... i went for some little bit of happiness lyin’ around in the maria... that too from Salvation Army and Goodwill. n’ no.... this is not about i made it or not. it’s basically about nothin’.

weirdly yours,
....

dear holyman

you were right. not that i didn't agree.... i didn't know. n' everythin' is happenin' like we discussed.

i've already begun walkin' my sleep. infact it's been a while already. i've been smilin' my tears n' i'm doin' it even now. i've packed all my dreams in a portmanteau n' thrown it into the depths of oceans. yeah i'm thrown suspended n' maybe i'll stay there. or else you did say somethin' about it too right?

people have started growin' flowers on my grave. n' yeah... they're smilin' too. they seem happy. they no longer fall for the old hey-you-have-something-on-your-t-shirt. n' everythin' is happenin' again... just like it had happened before.

the confusion is still a part of everythin'... when i'm not too sure even now if i should be happy not to be a part of this world which don't care for anythin' at all... or should i be sad for i'm still not a part of anythin'. yeah... you said it that i won't exist... n' i still don't.

i can only form swirlin' dust-of-memory-jet-streams but can never form someone else's memory. n' yeah... everyone else is perfectly forgetful. but i've got just one complaint. why did you take my memory while we talked coz i can remember nothin'. n' everythin' is known only after it happens. could have been another way.

but there always could have been another way. so maybe that's ok.

shiveringly yours,
......

tears, lies n' regrets...

stays inside.
safe and warm.
like a cold wind
inside my heart.

a mask of lies.
that gives me life.
but how long.

lance my soul.
in and out.
till the blood.
inside gets clot.

a tired life.
cold and black.
forever it went waste.

like a ball.
you threw me out.
in the vacant
outer space.

far too long.
but to where.
will i know when i’ll be there.

till i reach.
one black hole.
where gravity.
finally greets.

till i when.
drown my head.
and disappear to dust.

you’ll hear me scream.
pain and fear.
will burn me
till the very end.

these shoes i wear.
will hold my youth.
till they finally gets torn.

dear a

wish you a very happy n' warm birthday. wish you all the success which you're still waitin' for. wish you a day for you (alongwith all the other librans) when commitment don't look such a tough job.... wish you meet more girls who have "lithium" caller tune... wish you to "meet" girls rather than just talkin' to them on the phone... wish you to receive flowers this time rather than just sendin' them (that too anonymously)... wish that people finally meet you in the office when they intend to give you a surprise n' don't end up bein' surprised themselves.... wish you don't have to regret because she listens to hindi remixes n' not pink floyd.

wish you do have your "big" european tour finally... wish you finally get to see a live show of "LIVE". wish you definitely just more than a bed in "peddakota"...

wish you to have more friends who have a still longer wishlist for you. wish you get plenty of reasons to smile today. wish you a very happy n' warm birthday!

wishfully yours,

dear

i saw a dream.
i think i liked it.
it was fated though.
short lived.
madly
i was movin' in.
i saw it real
i could feel it all.
dear.

there was the fiddler.
and a young boy.
sad.
my memory is fadin'.
he was walkin'.
on the green.
the light was bright.
but he's still findin'.
fear.

they were drownin'.
in the water.
he was screamin'
for life.
the life boats came in.
he wasn't chosen.
and the rest
headed home.

he could never
stop to hear.
what the fiddler
used to play.
and he waited.
to be picked up.
while he lived.
in the someone's
pockets.
dear.

dear m

with all the words we both share... i don't know how often we mean them or do we intend... but they mean everythin'. n' even last night.... we talked like young boys... i don't know if i'm allowed to do so now.... n' after all... the worries i'm relyin' on...... they're not all mine like i said to you.

mom is worried to all extremes... n' rightly so. she should be. she too is findin' it hard to see me like this. it's often hard to be a spectator whenever i take the centerstage. n' she's worried if i lose my youth before i should. n' how could have i told her i already did. lyin' to her was bad but the worst part..... i've to pretend forever from now on. if only my life was like my hair... could have changed it.

but back to you.... like you said already... "she who can catch me off-guard"... n' that sums up everythin'. n' that would include everythin'... but somethin' i still would want to add although it's added already. "she who can be the inexhaustive sink of my salivary juices.." n' "she who shall sing killin' me softly" for me. although i managed the killin-me-softly part from my "ex-girlfriend"... not in song form but in poem form... n' that would do... n' i deliberately used the ex-girlfriend term.... although we both know it's perfectly inappropriate. i guess my rape-victim would sound more precise... but i guess i still would go with the former.

idly yours,
......

dear jury

it's hard for me to explain... n' maybe it's even harder for you to understand... but my truth doesn't have to be acceptable... but still happens to be one. i ain't a rapist... although you can call me one... i thought i was makin' love.. n' it wasn't even a saturday night when i got to know that it wasn't love makin' at all... i thought she was screamin' "don't stop" .. when all she meant was don't(period) stop(period).

that rape wasn't an event my lord... but only a technical misapprehension... but that doesn't relieve me from this sin though. i'm not pleain' for guilty as i know i shouldn't. all i'm askin' for a little attention.. even though i know.... i've never got attention whenever i had asked for it. i only want you to know... i could have been an excellent lover as well. but now... this rape thing wouldn't let me be one. but that's ok.

convictingly yours,
....

dear doctor

i've got somethin' to tell you... it's actually been a while since i've been carryin' a broken heart. n' it's showin' signs of chronicity. i feel i'm losin' my grip out of everythin'. i don't feel i've my feet on the ground coz they kind of feel light n' they shake when i try to stand. n' i'm partially doubtful though i need to mention it... i guess it might be gettin' on my nerves now.

n' i know what you might be thinkin'.. but these aren't metaphors... but are my symptoms. they just happen to sound like metaphors... but they're actually not for the time bein'!

painfully yours,
....

dear TF till i die

sorry. n' i feel a little guilt free whenever i say this to you. n' yet again... i couldn't give anythin'... but only offered my hands holdin' the ashes of time... waitin' for the wind to blow it over. could only deliver all the second hand vows to you first hand though... the vows that stand firm n' strong. tried different lanes to reach fool's paradise... knew no one there though. wish you could make fun with screechin' tyres n' universal mockin'. still unknown if i tried for change... regret more for the things which changed than the ones which didn't?

i know you felt strange because it's never easy to make believe which you totally unbelieve. but nonetheless.. you did your very best.

n' maybe it's not because of its loss but life's last traces which is makin' it all so vulnerable. you'll be better i hope.. when these traces are no more.

n' maybe this square shaped room makes the closest resemblance. don't need candles though... n' that's ok. but i wonder what wish are you gonna make... or is there anythin' left at all!

wishingly yours,
....

dear piper

i wasn't too sure if i was sadder or more helpless when the last one i knew refused to pull me.... when they knew it all.... i couldn't have moved a bit... let alone pushin' myself.

n' everyone looks all so sure about everythin' when you're not sure of anythin' at all. n' maybe then... it takes away a lot... your sweet-sweet life. i feel somethin' isn't right when i try to make myself happy... when the plan seems to be... me takin' or pickin' up along what life has decided for me... n' i can't quite remember when i first began acceptin'.... that sometimes... life leaks faster than the wind blows..... n' you just hurry up n' wait.... just to let yourself know...that there was nothin' at all to be awaited for....

conspringly yours,
......


dear doesn't matter who you're,

isn't it depressin' when you know most people are happy... alright.. i can rephrase that if you want to.... but it'd still mean the same... most people are happy only because they're buyin' your sadness absolutely for free n' then they're sellin' it back to you at a much higher rate.. n' you don't even get to know about it... do you know where is it headin' for... listen to me.

when was the last time someone listened to me?... when was the last time i talked to someone? when was the last time i actually said somethin'? the story about my week n' my weekends just reminds me of the story of the ice-cube n' his only friend sun... we both kind of wait for one another the whole day... just to end up with blisters.. n' that's kind of funny.

n' i was mostly thinkin' about the balance of nature... not the likes of what george carlin thinks... but general ones... like most people believe that i've more hidden depths which most often srew up everythin'... when i most often have found myself absolutely shallow... just like i hate n' love bein' watched.. n' i'm not even sure if i do the both together.

swingingly yours,
....

dear passerby

you do know me.... or maybe you don't. but even if you do... you may not see me the way i actually am. i'm not the person i actually make you see. yes. that means i'm an imposer. biggest of its kind. n' i've been lyin'.... the more serious ones.... mostly to myself. so that everythin' i want or wanted seem to be true. but i guess sundays are hard for liars to escape.

n' no matter how much i lie.... i can't negate the fact that i've bought a perfect death for me. myabe i'd worked hard for it. the truth is...... i'm dyin' everyday although my occasional breathings form my secured alibis. the truth is... i'm cryin' everyday.... even though sometimes i don't have the required tears to support me..... the truth is.... it's hurtin' me to my bones.... just to see everythin' go through me..... the truth is..... i can't do anythin' about it.... not because the extent of possibility.... but this is what i've bought for with all my 25 years of life savings.... it's still about an week to go.... n' now i just need a wrapper.

helplessly yours,
......

dear expectors

i wonder what are you made up of......... n' that's definitely not told for which you can be proud of. never-oh-never you get to realize what you've taken was a bizillion times more than even what you thought of givin'... n' still you run with the score cards. last night i told mom n' asked her actually to make a broadcast which she definitely won't... n' ofcourse why would she. so unfortuantely all of you would die unaware of what i felt n' said last night.... n' the fact is... if i care a descent look in my resume.... just to check my checklist of endurances... thanks to you but no thanks.. i've got all the criterion to hate all of you... but involuntarily.. i've not started to hate you yet.... but rather.. it's strangely pleasant when i think about it... that it's completely my choice to hate you or not... n' incidentally... i can do both of them with equal efficiency.



dear loved ones,

first of all... i must assure all of you that i don't actually know whom i'm referrin' to... although i know you belong to my loved ones set... but i'm not too sure about the subset.... but even when i don't know who you are.... but i know what i feel for you... which will be .. i'd have hated you just fine if at all i didn't love you.... n' at times i become oh-so-sure that i do both of them simultaneously.... although the love for you is still strong.... n' i'm neither proud nor regretful for it.

i guess all of you should learn somethin' from my scissors... do you've any clue how many times i've misplaced it but somehow it always has been inheritted back to me by the hands of time.... or rather it'd be a wrong statement till i say my scissors have always found me back.... n' it's rather pathetic on your part if i'm feelin' my scissors have an edge over all of you.

unshavingly yours,
.....

dear what happened

sometimes..... you know just sometimes... i actually do think about you... not because you're just someone who's all very mine...but as an outsider. n' that doesn't do me any good...... when i get to see you've just a few gold n' silver to achieve..... money to earn when there's be no one to spend on..... maybe fame to gain.... when there's no one to boast on..... stories to tell...... when there's no one to hear it... n' ofcourse there's you too....... not a part of anyone else's.
sometimes i just think... "what's you gonna do?"... i know this is supposed to be my responsibility... but still... do you've some clues? i guess it'd have been all so fun... if you were part of atleast somethin'.... but even when you're not.. i just can't throw you away... i only wished if i could have offered you just more than these words hopin' that you can lean on them just like i do... i wished if you were not shown the way to the door for so many times... i wished you didn't have to be there where you have been so many times... i only wished if things were different... n' then they'd have stayed just the same...

wishfully yours,
.....

dear whoever you are

i don't know when it all started when i made my first wish.... i don't remember when i got tired keepin' a wishlist.... because it only grew longer.... with just the handwritings kept on changin'.... but this is nothin' to all of them.... of what i found n' what i had wanted to find.... but this is just about me n' fiddler's green.

first of all... i need to inform you on certain aspects you may not be aware of... n' can't really blame on you. maybe you too are just caught in the circles of perceptions... the fact that i found fiddler's green can't really be a co-incidence... if at all there's any such thing. n' the fact that how i've found it?.... i don't want to go on or somethin'... because i want it to be somethin' which i was lookin' for.

i thought my heart made my soul... n' if that's true... my heart must be made by my dreams... n' this is where my dreams have to stay... n' even forever is too short a word.

so here... all the birds in every golden branch have to be a songbird... n' nobody have to be deaf again this time. let the young boys know Haiku for a change instead of knowin' some cool bike stunt... n' there'd be no bullies even if you start lookin' for them far south down the coast.

love won't be just painful here.... n' there shall be ways which do not end up in cryin' in the dark. so nobody has to wait everyday to see it all go through... but the one that remains.... stays.. shines n' calls one another.

where everyone can turn in circles... not of confusion but of playfulness... where butterflies live for so much more than just a week.... where the lies shall never be revealed.... n' all their sweetness shall swear to never lie again.

where the scholarships shall be given... only when you've lost all your control... where you don't have to be sleepless for just one regret or one guilt..... where all the crossroads shall be given destination status n' finally... you don't have to look for signs... but can stay there as long as you want to.

where hearts are not torn when stolen....... secrets are unopened even if they go broken.... where there shall be a million hands to catch... if somehow your heart pops out of your chest.

where people... if at all get lost somewhere.... they don't have to dream of midnight streets.... but start believin'... that they'd find everyone they loved or wanted to love in fiddler's green n' all those people would love them back this time.

so this year's joy... better last forever... where you don't have to kiss someone's memory in the new year's eve.... but you find that person by your side. n' i feel i've read kundera only for fiddler's green... because this is where i felt... "happy inside the songs.. where sorrow wasn't playful... laughter wasn't mockin'.... love wasn't laughable.. n' hate wasn't shy.... where people love with all their body n' soul.... where love is still love... pain pain... n' values free from devastations.."

dreamin'-dalely yours,
......

dear love n' hate

i don't know if you're gonna like it... but i was havin' this typical sunday afternoon conversation with N.... n' surprisingly... sunday seems to be missin' somethin' without his call..... when we were essentially talkin' irrelevant.... we talked about you........ when he thought he was jokin' about you..... i insisted.. "actually you're not.".... the fact that you impose yourself virtually on everyone possible..... i consider you rather unreliable.... because in most of the cases... you appear to be the platonic version (oh-my-god!)... which is actually the root cause of your betrayal (or withdrawal) syndrome..... unlike the latter... as i can't hate somebody just like that..... i mean i can.. but it's kind of difficult.. n' more important than that... i won't.. i mean nobody will... n' just to add... N liked the concept.

analytically yours,
.....

dear fiddler’s green

and yes..... i oh-so-want-to-write somethin’ when you’ve to excuse me for my staggerin’ handwritin’... n’ you know the reason why. there’s nothin’ much i’m doin’.... which is what i enjoy the most doin’.... exploitin’ the services of my pencil to it’s fullest ( imply whatever it wants to..).

heavy sighs.... head-droppings n’ a reluctant handwritin’ stroke. n’ yes... i found you yesterday.... which doesn’t mean that i’ve boycotted my “ex”.... although it may be highly indicative since i’ve gotten rid of it’s trace from almost everywhere..... but accordin’ to my press-released-statement version... i had sent it to the backseat. n’ just for the record... i’ve written your name everywhere.... n’ that would be here n’ on my cell phone.

n’ i’m oh-so-tired.... but it still can’t steal away my moment of findin’ you.... no-no. i can’t believe two things. as a matter of fact.... i can’t believe a lot of things.... things like every time i see R, i actually see S.... n’ i don’t even know i see who... when i see S. things like how much we fear in bein’ nobody... that we end up bein’ somebody else..... things like who did i become?.... n’ have people already figured it out...... that they’re seein’ someone else n’ not me...... things like why do i’ve to try so hard to be just me when i actually want to be me..... oh god.... do i talk, hear, see, think n’ whatever..... just like someone else?..... things like atkinson’s fifth law.... “the because-i-liked-the-way-you-looked-at-me girl shall never exist.”.......... but currently... the only two things i can’t believe..... “i can’t believe i didn’t find you for so long”.... and... “i can’t believe i’ve found you.”

diseasefully yours,
.........

dear S

i’m sorry to say this.... but i totally find you plastic. right from your voice.... n’ maybe for now.... just that. n’ seriously..... this is not how anyone is supposed to talk...... no matter if they own the new york times.

i thought not makin’ mistakes is a big deal..... i was wrong. just as you’re when you think makin’ mistakes is a big one. it’s just a matter of chance.... both of them. n’ chance is not a big deal at all.

disapprovingly yours,
..........

dear strange times

can i raise a toast to celebrate our age old friendship? or more than "can-i".... do i really want to?...hmm. want to. i don't even know if i actually don't know what i want or maybe i had just forgotten what i wanted. because i find it absolutely strange when i see i'm still doin' things which is so not me.... but doin' it... maybe just to stay in the game...... talkin' everythin' in a way because i know this is what they want to hear. n' yeah... you can call me hypocrite... but most of the times... i call myself a coward.

someone found it to be good when i said i was watchin' tv.... n' i felt what so good about it huh?... because the only reason i watch tv is to live the life maybe just for a while which is showcased in it... because i know ... i can't have that life... because i know.... "A Girl Next Door" can never exist in real.

because i'm not so sure... if i regret more for bein' a colorblind... or for the lack of people who don't even know my favourite color even in my limited set.

but what makes you even stranger is... i still managed to read both opel n' jessica.... yeah i've gone through kundera as well.... infact three of 'em.... n' to add more salt to you.... i'm also gonna go for mcinerney n' chbosky.... yeah i had three breakups.... but i still have the guts to lie that i'm still engaged.... when everyone else who claims to be figured out... who does everythin' because they've got ample reasons for doin' it.... n' feel that everyone who's not on their side is on the wrong side.... judgin' so comfortably that their reasons would hold correct generally..... when even confusion is not somethin' new.... i try with everyone .. to convince everyone else.... so that they exactly agree what we think... which is another way of sayin' makin' them think what we think.... but wouldn't it be absolutely borin' when all of think exactly in the same way.

eyes digging deeply yours,
....

dear saturday

it's been exactly a month since the last time i got you the way i actually wanted to.... n' isn't it funny?.... my lead is a firm believer of sarcasm.... n' thorough practitioner too. hah!.. n' the one month flashback gathers most of all different shapes of eye brows..... raised ones... not so raised ones.... raised ones with a question mark of "what-are-you-sayin'?" of sorts... n' emails.. whole lot of them... with attachments bein' more re-attached than attached.... n' after such a long battle...... i get a reply of corrupt zip files... hail thee murphy!

n' what did i get after bargainin' you for so long as 30 days??... hmm..... an accurate morbid mornin' for thinkin' of matters that hurts me the most **check**... even though "girl next door" dose was taken from star movies... even more depressin' afternoon... for readin' the letter i printed out yesterday for absolutely no reason but to get depressed..**check**.... photographs clicked... 30 copies...**check**.... documents xeroxed.. 5 copies each... **check**... more pages browsed to look for me but findin' me nowhere..**check**... n' finally writin' a letter to you.... showin' yet again my signs of fatigue for life n' vigour for nothin'...**check**. was that worth bargainin' at all? after three months of grave silence only towards me n' nobody else when i thought you might have seen my words.... you came up with somethin' like yesterday?... that's the problems with fast readers... can't blame you actually.

n' why do i end up havin' nothin'? n' somehow i can't think of tomorrow bein' a oh-so-awaited-sunday because of the oh-so-scary-monday bein' the next day.

v told me yesterday that he was missin' home.. although i didn't quite understand how... he don't quite look like someone who acutally stays in home much which he agreed. hey wait. why am i doin't this? that's none of my business right?

deliriously yours,
....

dearly beloved

talkin' to you has been mostly fun... n' it was just the same... yesterday too. hangin' up the phone without your approval wasn't meant to be. n' i really had to rush off after that.... for i didn't feel too good either. n' then the poetry started for i could remember only flashes. i could remember puttin' the receiver down... i could remember quickly givin' the booth owner a 500 rupee bill.... i could remember him callin' me from the back to give me the change which i didn't take..... i could remember gettin' into a very crowded bus n' somehow gettin' stacked onto a corner..... i could remember not noticin' anythin' at all but i was all so concerned not to cry in that public bus........ i could remember my tremblin' lips as it always happens whenever i try hard not to cry when i so want to.... n' then i could remember nothin' at all. i was mostly circlin' around all the words that i wanted to tell you... which i'm so sure i couldn't remember now..... n' what i'm writin' now has got no business with what i wanted to say to you last night..... but it hardly matters.... trust me.

few things i want you to know... but i ask not to understand them. what i want or wanted has got nothin' to do with what i do or have been doin'.... but maybe i just feel what i'm doin' has to be done. n' just like you said...it's a no win situation... n' like i said... you're right...just like you always were. but maybe i never knew how to win... or maybe at some point of time.... i didn't want to win no more. but maybe i shall lose it my way. because that's somethin' i know... n' i know it well.

i've found you always more reasonable n' composed than i'm... n' i've told you that probably a lot of times.. n' i also remember that you didn't quite agree to that too often.. infact never. but i meant what i said. n' most of the times you do the right things... i mean mostly... n' that's good. but just for the record... maybe as a well wisher... i'd like to say somethin' to you..... right now... now as in these years of yours... your younger years.... do everythin' with some amount of care n' keep your fingers crossed.... because trust me.... you're gonna look back at these times again n' again when these years would go away.... just like i do... n' so what if you've to lie to your parents when you go out for a date... trust me.. it won't look like a lie ten years after.

but when i look back... i know it's kind of early to say so... but still when i look back at the little bit of everythin'... i mostly look at what i'd found out in those years..... i've found out... just like that your best buddy with whom you've lived 4 years of graduation years can ask you to leave one day...... i've found out that one person for whom you're ready to wait for the rest of everythin'.... can ask you not to contact her again when you just wished her on her birthday.... i've found out that someone can easily leave you for someone else just because you can't afford a great future or maybe someone else can buy her a more expensive one..... i've found out that people start lookin' for you when they've found out that all the other people have left them n' you're the best bargain..... i've found out that gettin' disappeared... almost completely... is as easy as just changin' your numbers n' id's... no matter your whole batch lives in the same city... but shazaam... you're invisible.

i've found out people who are such fast readers that they don't even ever notice what they thought to be a coma was actually a tear drop...i've found out that people mostly love you because they know exactly that you love them.... n' they wouldn't have started lovin' you ... if they'd the slightest of doubts that you didn't.. i've found out that i'd mostly spent all those years with trapezes of confusion... whether to live life with all the lies or with all the truths... i've found out that i'd spend most of those years... while cryin' in the dark.

n' i believe you... just like i always did.... so there's no point in shoutin' at me sayin' "you think i'm lyin'?".... coz i know you're not. but i rate lyin' as different from sayin' somethin' when you're not so sure about the truth... n' i'm not assumin' things. no i'm not. it's only you who told me...... you've got no one to talk to online. n' maybe that's the reason you want to talk to me... coz right now... you've got no one better. but tomorrow's gonna be a different day right?... just like yesterday. do you remember when we were both online. probably at that time you had a big online fraternity at your disposal..... n' when i used to give an im.. i really had to wait for a reply... because you had a lot of replies to give... n' i hope you get that time back soon when you're back to that spot light once again.. n' trust me.. then... you're not even gonna remember me... let alone miss me.

n' don't worry about sen. he handles everythin' perfectly. n' just for the record... how can i be bothered by him... just because you find him sweet can't really affect me a great deal when you tell me he had asked you about me... coz when i was actually alive.. he never bothered a sigh for me.... n' the last time i felt him.. i thought he was in head-over-heels kinda love with someone... n' trust me.. durin' those times... people are mostly happy. i've been through it.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand..... it'd have been really fun if we were together .... maybe just for a while. then i could have told you that i would have always chosen opel mehta over jessica darling... if ever i was given a chance.... then i could have told you there's this one guy who is teachin' me english.. i mean what's n' how's about english... like how to write a sentence... n' also a great deal of grammar like "you "have" to" n' not "you "has" to"... then i could have told you about this another guy who tells me how i should grow up in terms of my music taste... n' while he says so... he actually lifts his hands slightly just when he says the term "grow up"... then there're people who believes not usin' a mouse while usin' the computer but only their keyboards is a cool kinda thing which gives them an edge over everyone else… n' i could have definitely told you about this girl i came across recently who has a technically wrong name... n' oh.. just for the record.. she doesn't pee. trust me.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand i could have told you about those eyes of the blind... n' their scattered braile scripts... about those handbags of flashbacks... about all those almost n' maybe's... the nightfalls n' the myths... n' some part of the forgotten history.... about all those bargained dreams n' second hand happiness... about the signs that led me to nowhere... n' the singalong sorrows... about curtains n' window panes... pillow covers n' bedsheets n' all those times when i used to cry in the dark.

n' maybe then…. i could have told you that findin' you was just like findin' someone i always wanted to find... but maybe findin' you was also findin' someone while standin' in a not-so-long-queue..... no matter how much i find you interestin' or how much fun i've with you while standin' together... all i can hope for is … this queue would never end n' we could stay on like this forever…. but our turns would come n' then we'd go different ways... n' i just had to wait... when i shall lose sight of you.. when you completely disappear in the maddenin' crowd..... when i shall fail to hear your oh-so-sweet voice in the self imposin' cacophony. you really were a beautifully unplanned dream i dreamt…. but i gotta wake up.

**sigh**... n' i just want a life with just me... n' nobody else. i know it's not an easy choice.. but i believe i've already taken it. i just want to go away so far... that nobody could reach me even if they want to... so far that nobody could ever understand me... even if they want to.

n' i sincerely believe nobody would want to be a part of this plan.. n' nobody should.... n' sometimes it's good to be on your own. but the worst part… it's not so good a feelin' when you've got nothin' at all to wait for. but you stay cool.. n' you stay happy. for you've a crowded life.... n' you should love every part of it.

incorrigibly yours,
....

p.s. the sorrow to own a broken heart is not because you've to start lookin' for the pieces lyin' around everywhere... because it hardly matters even if you miss some of them. the hardest part is... all the secrets that were burried inside it .....escape. not even escape.. they're stolen... nothin' should allow those secrets to lose you... not even a broken heart.

dear lies n' tears

it's been really ages since i've been justifyin' you... all of their lies n' all of my tears. somehow i've always end up in convincin' myself that i'm right... when i already know i'm so not. nothin' much have changed... though it means a lot of things did to make this feel. n' the lies keep on pourin'... maybe randomly. some of them don't even know that they're lyin'. n' even though my disrimination works well... i fail to ignore them.

recently i was lyin' in my bed... mostly cryin' in the dark.... talkin' to m. it seems there're just two options. don't grab the past n' move ahead n' walk for a while n' end up facin' all the lies again n' start cryin' in the dark. the other.... don't do anythin'... stay where everyone left you.... n' cry in the dark. how i wished there was another option. but i know there's none.

i received almost a summon a few days back. n' i wonder why i responded but i did. although it was pathetic... but i still felt good. just felt got hold of me again.. which ofcourse was pathetic.

n' mostly i'm lovin' this tiredness. way too much of tiredness....weariness... sleepiness. oh how much i had missed them n' how much i've longed for 'em.

pathetically yours,
.....

n' the last three months.....

       

I've always wanted to know if Holden Caulfield and Timothy Conroy were friends. But I've always wanted to know a lot more than that like why do pigs have a loop in their tails or can we touch the ozone layer if not the skies? There's always so much to talk about when there's absolutely no one to listen.

       

       

A STAIRCASE TO NOWHERE

all the depths come risin'
decays freshen up
n' i need to choose everythin'.
i try to inflate my hopes
to help my sorrows keep me happy
n' i can't chase the things no more i feel happy in.
yes mr. plant you can go for the heavens if you want to
but i'm sick n' tired of justifyin' my life
when i've already chosen to
run away from the people i love.
n' now i choose silence as my language
with all the age old stories i'll want to tell forever
n' i still choose to wait
when i've made sure
i've got absolutely nothin' at all to wait for.

       

       

ABSENCE

n' where did all the letters go?
can you miss my words
which i never wrote to you.
do i need another amen?
just to renew the policy
of my hopes.
wasn't meant to be rude
was just the truth
i wasn't alone
was there with the empty seat.
n' here i stand
to mark my presence
but i knew i was
comfortably absent.

       

dear authorities

if you're intendin' to impose a war on me by closin' down my favourite coffee shops in the name of "violations".... then i must apologize that i'm not even gonna react let alone the counter-attack of sorts thoughts. although i must appreciate... the act was sly n' totally behind-the-back.



dear mr. who

it was really sorry for me to say i wasn't sure but i had really no idea whatsoever where the hutch shop was.


dear vaibhav

your resume looks excellent now even though i won't apologize when i say the content was way below poverty line. you need to do more than that. i did the best i could.

the other day when i told you to give a missed call to your girlfriend in the witchin' hour.... i wasn't tryin' to ruin you by leadin' you stray or try to act cool. i did that because someday when you're gonna think back what you did when you were young.... thinkin' about makin' those phone calls (what if they were unattended) would be mostly sweet rather than not makin' those phone calls. i know that because whenever i've to think back.... i mostly have to remember only that silence that are not even faked.


dear unknown

oh i must confess this.... i really liked your clickin' pictures of those slum kids. i don't know. stuffs like those mostly annoys me as i somehow feel it more of the plastic-wax-high-heels-dye kind of thing.... but i don't know whether it was the smiles on those faces of the kids..... the calmness in your face.... or the quietness with which you were accomplishin' your services.... i found it extremely sweet. i've got no idea of any hidden agenda but i'd never intend to know it either. i didn't have no camera or else i could have taken your photograph while you were takin' photographs but ofcourse with hardcore quietness.



dear aarti

i may somehow know how it feels if suddenly out of the blues i say you're so oh-my-god kind of girl.... as it is such matter-of-fact kind of thing. although i don't know how i seem to know about it. but still.... that's rather sad for you... for you're missin' the big someone-likin'-you-a-great-deal part because of the everyone-likin'-you-a-great-deal thing. but you've to accept a few basic facts. minorities will be the essence of the extremities n' we all know how is it to be one. n' moreover.... my favourite coffee is already closed. n' as a matter of fact.... i can only write your name as well in my list of the girls-i-wanna-date.... but like every other name as well... i'll have to rewrite your name in my other list of the girls-i-can-never-date. too bad.


dear mr. writer

why is it that we always have to accept things? ok, leave aside the "understood-accpetance" of sorts but the ones that other people tell you - "you've to accept it..." ....oh really! what if i don't want to accept it? i mean what are you gonna do about it huh? n' i know pretty well that once an apple goes bad... there's no way i can have it. so is there any sense at all when you say... "throw it". i mean what's your point? i mean i couldn't have actually told her "hey look i'm broken here.... i'm desperately willin' to hear a few kind words from you... holdin' my hands will be bingo... even some sympathy would do." i couldn't have said that right? there's no second thought to it. n' my expectation is not touchin'-the-skies of sorts. no it's not. n' i don't see if there's anythin' wrong in me.

oh by the way... i had a near death experience tonight. this wasn't for the first time that somethin' of the sorts happened with me but i somehow don't seem to recall all those previous experiences. n' like always.... forgettin' makes me happy yet again. but enough of these near death experiences. i want to remember about near life experiences. i wonder when.

sincerely yours
......



dear ravi

no matter how ridculously you can behave... you're still fun. although i feel serious pity for your father but i can't really understand why i don't mind bein' with you.... even when you say nothin' at all but about sex n' drugs. n' the other day i was thinkin' when you were temporarily lost.... both literally n' metaphorically.... how did you manage it? i mean i had to try so much in hidin' from everyone but you managed it when we all were lookin' for you.


dear postman

i don't see you no more. where did you go? you should know my phone is just an electronical monument. n' i must wait n' see myself thinkin' n' i waited but i ended up seein' myself hesitate. what do i miss more..... the letters which you brought or the letters which you didn't. n' i try to forget everythin' n' in a way i've. but all i could remember is... i waited.


dear tattoos n' breakups

both of you mean the same to me. i like the words but i can't tell you why. but i don't like the real thing. but i'm so filled up with this smoke.... are you both the same but got deviated somewhere in the rush. n' seriously i never realized i'd got so much to think about doin' so many things.... only now when i think i can't do all those things.... i constantly feel i've got nothin' to think about. idleness is keepin' me so violently busy... i can't find no time to do nothin'.

incoherently yours
........



dear 93131

i just can't correlate no matter how hard i try. last night was like a rabit inside a sack. all my memories seemed to be in some half mast. i had to try so hard not to cry. n' when i thought what i was feelin' sad about... i just couldn't come up with a reason. why feelings had to be so incoherent... specially mine. n' then you messaged me n' called me. you seem to be someone so close callin' me in the middle of the night..... but givin' me no clue whatsoever. n' how can i make myself understand that it doesn't make any sense to call someone who knows my number n' my name... n' all i could hear is you weepin'.

n' no... i couldn't agree to amit when he told me to ignore it.... for i can't. for everyone does the same n' i don't want to be like them. n' you don't answer my calls. but keep callin' me only to let me hear your silence.

maybe the question more important than who is why.... but please take care whoever you're.

awaitingly yours.
..........



dear vaibhav

all those words were actually just reflections.... but unfortunately, you were listenin' when everythin' was meant to be seen. my advice to you.... don't do somethin' which has a great amount of likelihood to break someone's heart..... specially yours. even if it gives you enough happiness today. but what are you gonna do about the happiness when you've to turn off the lights in early p.m. so that you can cry in the darkness n' nobody watches you.

choose the people in your life carefully man. n' make sure once you choose them.... they remain in your life... n' take special care that nothin' happens.... so you don't have to walk out of their lives. because trust me...... once you do that..... you can rarely come back.



dear miner-for-a-heart-of-gold

it must have been a long time huh?.... expectations without expressions. almost sounded like a punch line for some product but i wonder what could that be. bein' punctual is mostly wastin' time... just like waitin' makes you mostly late. n' now.... it's mostly this fear of growin' old.

n' did you actually work hard to hide so that nobody asked you for the ticket.... n' you could have had a free-ride of sorts..... did you actually feel like leapin' out of the window when you saw the 10 rupee bill flyin' in the air?

but mostly it's just like gettin' caught somewhere... somethin' like a busy traffic lane in some idle tuesday..... where i'm not too sure if the flashes from my life is fadin' before me.... or dwindlin' behind me. when you don't really pick a little bit of anythin'.... n' after all that effort.... you end up rememberin' just a name... nothin' before.... nothin' after.

gazingly yours
..........

       

but mostly it's just like gettin' caught somewhere... somethin' like a busy traffic lane in some idle tuesday..... where i'm not too sure if the flashes from my life is fadin' before me.... or dwindlin' behind me. when you don't really pick a little bit of anythin'.... n' after all that effort.... you end up rememberin' just a name... nothin' before.... nothin' after.

       

       

i use to have fun when i throw my hand in the air n' it swings back to me... when i think of somethin' with blind eyes counterfeited by faint constant smile..... when i play hide n' seek with all my memories till they fade away with a tear drop rollin' down my cheek. i use to have fun in wipin' it too. i use to have fun lettin' it go... not tryin' to make any move... watchin' every step growin' the distance.... till every silent word made sure nobody heard nothin'.

       

       

GARDEN OF SORROW

the garden of sorrow
the flowers have bloomed
in the summer of autumn
frozen pollen grains
the truth of the dreams
you fed with hands of lies
my love for you is but a secret
n' i shall keep it
but then you wanted to leave
turnin' everythin' else but a sin.

       

       

n' i cry in the dark....

picturin' my life
through the eyes of the blind
the scattered braile script
says it all
handbags of flashbacks
almost and maybe's
nightfall and myths
and the forgotten history.

all of my dreams
just couldn't buy
any second hand happiness
and signs led to nowhere.
was left behind
by the train of time
was left with just me
and singalong sorrows.

and life moves towards
curtains and window panes
pillow covers and bedsheets
while i cry in the dark.

       

dear h!@#$,

a lot of people say that you change. somehow i can't agree to that.... well by that i never meant you've remained the same. for all i've felt n' known that there has to be so many changes just to remain the same. but that wasn't the point. they'll need a change of heart to change them. but do you change? i've always adressed you with so many titles... canyons.... hunters.... warriors. not that i've taken them back. but i also feel you're like the moon. n' if you're like the moon... you'll be the owner of all the maria. n' just that i don't know what is there in those dark spaces doesn't have to mean that there's absolute void over there. n' how can i take it as a surprise when i see somethin' suddenly out of those dark circles.... n' claim that ...it's somethin' new... which wasn't there.

n' the wind always blows... just to strip everythin'. sometimes i feel it's the original rapist. the other day i was talkin' to this imaginary person.... over the desert n' the ocean. n' there seemed to be some kind of disagreement. the person was referrin' to me as an ocean. when i asked why ...she told me i've just too many secrets. i told if you think deep.... you may realize that there's not much of a difference between an ocean n' a desert. it's just that there's just too much of life in ocean. you don't find it in a desert. but everytime i look at the desert... it makes me feel that i'm lookin' at an ocean.

dear e!@#

it was wonderful meetin' you. can i use the word perfect? i don't even remember when was the last time i felt like that. thanks to you.

n' i talked so much. but just for the record... (which you won't get a chance to look at!).. i also didn't say a lot of things. there're so many things in you which i admire... there's so much of a subjective jealousy in me which i'm so proud not to confess.... not because of everythin' in you that makes you... i never can be a part of... n' neither can i imitate them.... it's just how effortlessly you can say what you like n' what you don't like.... even the short forms used in sms's..which you obviously don't like. n' i just kept on starin' at you... just couldn't say a word..."that when i write.. i don't feel like stoppin'... but sms's do have a word count... to increase the content.. i sometimes need to shorten the words.."... but your influence was so dominant... n' like always i was so reckless in sustainin' myself ... in the name of you-startin'-to-dislike-me... the sms i'd sent to you that night costed me thrice the actual price for exceedin' the word limit.

all i wish .... if i could ever say what i do n' what i want... almost fearlessly!

dear r!@#

i could have told you this... "what's the point in laughin'... when someone has made a cross on someone's pic." not that i don't like laughin'..... but right at this point.. this very point..someone might as well be puttin' a cross in my pic in some crowded community.... n' everyone mgiht as well be laughin' at me too. things like that never make me laugh.. maybe it does to you. all it does to me... it instills tremendous fear... not realizin' why.

shiveringly yours,
...........

       

the sorrow to own a broken heart is not because you've to start lookin' for the pieces lyin' around everywhere... because it hardly matters even if you miss some of them. the hardest part is... all the secrets that were burried inside it .....escape. not even escape.. they're stolen... nothin' should allow those secrets to lose you... not even a broken heart.

       

       

will you...

will you remember me for a while... just before forgettin' me? will you take sometime n' love me... just before you start hatin' me? now there'll be times when i'd like to change. but that doesn't actually mean that i want to change. i don't. because everyone else do. will you ask me not to change then? now i may hardly confess this again... but i do babble a lot. will you shake me then for i don't want you to listen durin' those times... because whatever i say then.. i say it all wrong. i never mean 'em. will you wait for me... just for a while... just before you leave forever? will you tell me which is the one "goodnight" which isn't actually a "goodnight" but a "goodbye"? will you promise me to look me in my eyes for once... just before you won't look at me again?

       

dear m,

i never thought i'd ever be writin' to you in here. but maybe i've not thought about a lot of things.... n' specially the ones that happened with us. everythin' always came with so much out-of-the-blues of sorts.... i always thought everythin' so depended on me.. n' thought i'd have everythin' figured out. but then.

n' i don't really know if you'd agree to me when i say... life doesn't know how to take turns... it always insists on u-turns... as if a simple-casual-day-to-day-morning-newspaper-with-a-bed-tea kind of turn would really spoil this "big" oscar-award-winner image of life... n' i wonder if those u-turns were actually connected... hmmm... unconnected u-turns.... should be name of some book.

n' from those uncountable sleepless nights of how-oh-how should i be doin' goofy stuffs for just a few oh-so-crazies from you.... to these oh-so-tirin'-and-everlastin' days when i just have to argue with myself on the list of the people i should be wishin' on their oh-so-happy-birthday's.... n' the little time i get... when i'm just back to plain-oh-me havin' those innumerable stupid worries of absolutely unworryable matters... i mostly have to stop myself on undialin' a few sequences of numbers.

n' i'm oh-so-amazed to realize that my brain is just one of those so-many organs in my whole of me which takes decisions for me.... because there's this stomach of mine which has a will of it's own.. which can give birth to never endin' butterflies n' leave them on their own will to fly around my whole central intestinal province n' they wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted.... there're my lungs which will sigh as much as they want n' do have the potentiality to do so for as long as 30 minute at stretch as if i wanted to be in Ripley's believe it or not........ then there're my eyelids that never-oh-never would blink when they should ... n' when they shouldn't... they achieve microwave frequency of blinkin'.... n' leave aside the over-hyped heart where all the fossilized memories are archived. there's no doubt that it's only the heart that makes us believe we're old... n' now i feel so comfortably the sadness in bein' old. actually it's not sad when you feel you're old. it's because you see a hell lot of people around you who aren't.

yesterday i had a very unusual conversation with the-very-shy-one. n' i was thinkin' i wouldn't have been havin' this conversation if you'd have been still here. i wish wishes were both cheap n' available... somethin' like in a factory outlet... just like bitin' a doughnut with hot chocolate.

scrumdiddlyumptiously yours,
.....

       

once upon a time.... i was one hell of a writer. n' then i mixed up... the things which i wrote with the ones i didn't. but obviously.... the ones which i didn't write was what livin' was all about.

       

       

Half my life is over and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing. I'am thumbprint on the window of a skyscraper. I'm a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea with a million tons of raw sewage.

       

       

Hey, I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but I’m certainly not the dumbest. I mean, I’ve read books like “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” and “Love in the Time of Cholera”, and I think I’ve understood them. They’re about girls, right?

       

dear sometimes,

do you face an identity crisis for bein' occasional or bein' rare. huh!.... you can't even say "sometimes". but it only happens sometimes..... when the air looks so clean... i just feel like not closin' my eyes..... only sometimes when i think i don't regret for not bein' a blind or somethin'. it's just sometimes when i hear no music more painful than the one i always keep on hearin'....... only sometimes when i actually picture myself in slowmotion keepin' perfect rhythm with the background music. it's only sometimes when i understand just exactly why i feel like the color blue... just when i stare at the pefectly blue sky......... n' know that space always has the color blue.

sometimes when i feel it's just so easy to disappear from everywhere... when you just have to block a few numbers and id's.. that's it..... sometimes when i feel love shouldn't just be about you-lovin'-someone just because you're bein' loved.... only sometimes when i've to run from people i love or tend to love.... because i know... i just have enough energy to carry these life savings of peices of me... but just can't afford to let anyone break one more of me.

it's only sometimes when i feel i'm more comfortable bein' misunderstood.

quasi-hopelessly yours,
.........

       

sometimes... everythin' seem so funny. just like a few beliefs people have which lead to varied conclusions involuntarily. like the one most of them believe... beauty n' brains don't quite go together. i mean no comments on that. but the side effect of this belief leads a few others to have expectations like the ones with no great looks are intelligent enough.... to which i've fallen a victim maybe forever!

....i'm not good lookin'... but please understand this... i'm not intelligent as well.