Statues in the rain...

cowards...

2007-08-15T14:01:00.000+05:30

humility may not have got anythin' to do with bein' nice. even bein' nice may not have got anythin' to do with nice either. most of us are nice not just because we really are nice... but because we all make mistakes.. stupid mistakes which we know could have no way been made. but here we all 're. idiots. n' in those times we need someone to see just us ignorin' those mistakes. tellin' us the words which we need to hear. forgivin' us. apologizin' is just another way of requestin' them to say that "it's ok". approval junkies. that's who we're. we act n' we only think our actions carry consequences. but no. they also carry deep n' prfound anticipation. anticipation of an approval. it carries fear. deep down the roots fear. fear of opposition. n' it's a constant battle of psychosis in this transition till a consequence results. we don't really feel really nice till we receive that one word of appreciation even from the last nobody. n' only because we're weak to our bones... cowards to our hearts... confused as a milkshake... our niceness is just our defense mechanism to cover our bloody asses. it's sad. but i might be beginnin' to think that the nicer the person is.... the more incompetent he's. he's someone who has lost a lot of his battles... in general he's a loser. all in all... he's just a hypocrite.... an imposter. he's tryin' to fool you all..... to cover up his weaknesses... to disguise his faults... just foolin' around.

well the poor keep gettin' hungry
n' the rich keep gettin' fat
politicians change
but they never gonna change that.
but you n' me girl
we got the answer right in our hands
all we gotta do is

well the winds of war are blowin'
n' the tide is comin' in
don't you be hopin' for the good times
because the good times have already been
but girl we got the answer
so easy you won't believe
all we gotta do is

It's so easy, to see
If only they'd listen, to you and me.
We got to.. as fast as we can
We got to.. every woman, every man
We got to.. time after time
We got to.. vodka and lime.

well the world is gettin' weary
n' it wants to goto bed
everybody's dyin'
except the ones who're already dead
the answer we all are seekin'
is starin' right at our face
all we gotta do is

n' just like that...

2007-07-30T13:15:00.000+05:30

i didn't laugh. she didn't laugh either. we were both laughless... formin' an auditorium of words within each other... tryin' to make an exit through just one 2 by 2 door. bottlenecked words are mostly inaudible.

the wrong was committed. we're responsible. no. maybe just me. it's not the guilt which is killin' me now but it's the consequences. n' the changes which encircle the periphery. my denial was weird. it wore the mask of rudeness. blame it on me. the anger was majorly bafflin'. because there wasn't any point. but i knew it was the grief. bargainin' was misunderstanin'. depression was tryin' to hide its way. acceptance was majorly pronounced. she apparently wasn't grievin'. what i meant by that was to me... she wasn't. it's just that i can't make such a statement because that would suggest i was majorly bold. you don't want to be bold. boldness has it's own drawbacks. in my case. it ends up in solvin' math problems mostly related to permutation n' combination n' sometimes even probability. n' that's another thing you don't want to do. you don't want to do math.

n' it's kind of funny when you're tryin' hard to swallow your anger. not even swallowin'. it's like schedulin' it to sometime later as you don't want to lose these moments now. n' that's actually nice. even romantic.

an ode to bolivian marchin' powder

2007-07-24T21:32:00.000+05:30

it's a funny feelin' huh... you feel for someone n' then you don't feel for someone else. you make it look... as if you can't. n' you simply qualify for eternal mercy of a minuscule time frame... where you know you've not acted anythin' different.... or at times when you look back you tend to realize you were two times stupider than you normally are. but still somethin' works out which never works n' is known for that. narrow skies drown you... n' you tend to swin deep. most often it doesn't work n' you defy the whole world. it's a hind sight... it's stressful. it's alarmingly risky n' exceedingly liable to deter your esteem. it's unpredictible... it's unsure. in most cases it's a lie... n' in the others it's just ignorance of the truth. it's a loss of control... n' a permanent need of a dependency. it's makes you grow weak... it makes you grow lonelier. it's non-existent... it's confusin'. n' except for the fact that it doesn't feel so, it's positively borin' n' depressin'.

i hate honesty...

2007-07-18T21:47:00.000+05:30

a forced dream. an uninvited night. a very long day. wasted surprise. a brilliant headache.. with just a book in your hand with a lot of words n' a pocketful of vocabulary tryin' your best to cope up with your difficulty n' to still enjoy everythin' written.

do you?

2007-07-17T09:56:00.000+05:30

do you look at the guy who runs after a movin' bus to get on it? do you still feel like lookin' to know if got in or not? do you look at him if in case he doesn't make it? don't stop doin' it man... i think it's really sweet.

just kiddin'

2007-07-04T21:55:00.000+05:30

either it starts rotatin' the opposite direction or it stops totally.. but it's definitely somethin' different from the normal. sometimes... it's just a cliff hanger... on-your-little-finger-of-your-left-hand-cliff-hanger. n' only thing you can look for is not a reachin' hand but nature turnin' off the gravity feature. not against gravity though... but thinkin' about it. it has indeed given results to a lot of things n' focussin' on biproducts.. it has given concepts like lookin' down on someone... or pushin' someone to move ahead... because the entities like up n' down are just not factors decided by height.. height itself would have meant nothin' had there been no gravity... we're either afraid of heights or we're too afraid of livin' low. the whole concept of laughter is actually flavoured by gravity infact.. or otherwise you'd have laughed like a bastard... when your cheeks wouldn't have felt pulled or your stomach spasmed when you laughed so hard. thinkin' further.... a joke on the moon would have been 6 times less funnier than on the earth!

makes sense actually. the massless always floats.. n' never falls from grace!

p.s. no. it actually doesn't make sense.

somethin' to share...

2007-06-28T23:43:00.000+05:30

sometimes people ask me why do i leave all of a sudden? they ask why n' they almost make me believe that they really would like to know that... as if it's the last thing that's left unknown to them n' they'd really like to figure it out... as if knowin' this would make their lives better n' they'd not ask the second question.... "but why?"... i find it funny. i find it funny because they all make it look all so complicated as if it were some fuckin' indefinite integral calculus problem which was left unsolved by newton himself. no man it ain't that difficult to understand if all you cared a little in the first place to see the answer which was always floatin' around. i like the fact when people miss me or atleast when the believe that they do. i like it. i like the fact that they think everythin' would end in smoke when i'm no longer to be seen anymore as i'm no longer there. why can't they understand that i don't like the fact to be ignored n' live like a stranger all the time when i'm still fuckin' there n' nobody gives a shit. i mean why wouldn't i try to make it just the opposite n' when i do succeed in doin' that.. why're they curious.. where did the confusion package come from.. can't you see it's so fuckin' simple!

wish i weren't...

2007-06-26T01:14:00.000+05:30

what you hide is your weakness. because in rare occasions you'll come across people who'll hide their strengths. n' i term it rare when i know i'm wrong because i don't think i'll find anyone who'll do so. given a situation or even without... the strength will be displayed.. not without knowledge.. but with vital deliberateness. n' i'm writin' this because i want to confess no matter how glamorous or glorious i became or maybe i wanted to become... all i was doin' was nothin' different or nothin' out of the box. i was just hidin' my weaknesses. n' that's where you put a period. nothin' glamorous or nothin' glorious to add.

i was slapped hard tonight in the place where i stay with a couple of strangers. i was slapped n' yelled at. my glasses got dislodged from my specs. i was beaten because i refused to give the magazine i bought to a 40 year old guy. n' i didn't do anythin'. not only because i couldn't which i couldn't. but i didn't. i didn't even protest... didn't make any elegant defense to counter the assault. i just stood by my point n' didn't give the magazine. by reason i proved later why i was logical n' why he wasn't. that wasn't difficult for me. but i knew... i couldn't have done anythin'. later he apologized but that didn't make me feel any better. i knew i had no part in that. he chose to feel bad about it later. n' even practically... he slapped me in front of people.. he said sorry when everyone was asleep.

but that slap had made me realize one thing... all these times i was tryin' to hide from all the people... i wasn't lookin' for somethin' different or doin' anythin' different.... i was just tryin' to hide all my incompleteness.. all the could have beens that people might still think i've.. all my weaknesses that they don't know that i've. maybe i'll still do the same. maybe i'll. but the worst part.. i still have to wake up tomorrow.. face the people who laughed at me in the other room after i was slapped n' of course the one who did it. how weak i'm... n' is there a limit to it.. because i still choose to be the same person. sorry is all i can tell myself.. as there had been so many nights like these i've passed just with shaky hands n' tremblin' tears.... as i know there couldn't be anythin' else apart from them n' an apology. i'm both ashamed of myself n' feel pity as well.. contradictin' huh!

let me just write...

2007-06-12T11:55:00.001+05:30

# the greatest piss off-er for me. few men queuin' near the wash basin n' someone standin' in the side rushes in... overtakin' you makes his way ahead. n' you see him hand bathin' for the next ten minutes. (yeah maybe your ride to mars, your hometown, is just about to leave. "okay jackie boy! take my way to have yours!")

# the greatest embarrassment for me. have you ever got yourself alone in some place when you make sure there's nobody around you.. particularly nobody seein' you... so that you can take your time to pick your nose.. which has to be done.. (i mean there are things pilin' up inside... n' by now.. it's gettin' difficult to breathe.. i mean what do you expect. i let myself die just because it doesn't look that nice when you pick your nose. not happenin'.. i can't help if you feel bad but i'm pickin' my nose.) n' just after you've spent sometime inside your nose... your fingers carefully n' delicately pulls out a semi-solid or semi-liquid lump of that mess out of your nose.. yeah i'm talkin' about those semi-solid or semi-liquid n' not the dry ones. the dry ones are too easy to pluck out n' you don't need isolation for that. the wet ones.. n' just when they're partially out of your nose.. somebody.. some loser-dick-headed-super-fucked-personality walks in. (i mean what were you doin'.. hidin' behind the curtains so that you can enter in the exact moment when you can embarrass me the most) n' there's no way you can hide.. that thing is like halfway in the air.. caught between your fingers n' your nose..(n' if you think hard.. that's poetic as well) but no way you don't make no effort to hide.. n' that adds to the climax of your embarrassment.

# the greatest fun thing for me. have you ever seen the faces of men when they're watchin' a hot girl passin' them by. it need not even be real. even a poster of a half naked woman can do the trick. have you ever seen how they turn their heads back when their eyes can no longer keep the view in the range of their visibility. actually that's too poetic for me. men find it a little difficult to get on with their lives. but it's a little too easy for them to get turned on n' turn back. i must go back to my old theory. all men are pigs.

# a thing i'm not able to share with anyone but findin' it impossible to keep it with me. yeah i'm a sort of a person who loves bitchin' around... have done my graduation in gossipin' n' i'm very good in spreadin' rumours. someone is losin' his pubic hair in my office. yeah it's true. i don't know who he is.. i mean obviously.. duh! but there's definitely someone. i always see few of them in the urinal in my floor. i mean i've no clue how to react to that. is pubic hair loss somethin' to be cheered for... because you don't need that hair anyway. ("no thank you!") but since it's a loss.. do i have the right to feel happy without consultin' that person. n' it's such a mystery. somethin' i can't find out... somethin' i can't talk about... n' it's definitely not a kind of secret i'd want to take it to my grave... (no thank you!)

where were you before and what are you doin' now?

2007-06-09T11:16:00.000+05:30

sometimes the world gets so smart.... n' always much to your likin'.... you've got like no clue how did it happen... as if some over night miracle. every pause... every coma in a sentence.. every act of rephrasin' lines... smiles... movement of the iris... infact every push of a button is traced right back n' right there. n' they come up with the right thing. clever bastards!

if the sun refuse to shine...

2007-05-26T20:24:00.000+05:30

sometimes it's just so amusin'... not to stand in the waitin' room. only if i could wish to clear my intentions just like i clear my throat... n' no matter how vague they might be... just the mere thoughts of all the could-be's are strong enough to drive me crazy. sometimes i press the letters in the keyboard like they play a piano n' i don't understand why. thinkin' of burnin' hot skin n' eyes lookin' at the right hand side of the menu makes me smile. i sincerely feel wantin' to grab a cute ass is just an expression of honesty n' not bein' pervert. findin' silo wasn't so bright today... but oh how my heart longs for a cabana n' i wonder when i find it.

dazed but not confused!

2007-05-20T23:33:00.000+05:30

n' i wish if only these feelings were makin' me happy only if they could have.. maybe then.. i could have written words with conjuncted grammar n' tell everyone the state or the lack of it i'm through everytime n' again.. but it's life i know... n' like everytime.. it's large. but i know i'm surrounded.. n' i can breathe when i know i've drowned. n' it's the darkness which i can see now which is beautiful more than the light... which reminds me to forget all the eclipses which have clouded maybe more than me... n' shall i be able to believe when i tend to... that after a lifetime of turnin'... it's magical to be the rock without the roll!

lessons missed!

2007-04-24T11:25:00.001+05:30

i've learnt nothin'... n' i'm so shameless to admit it n' it makes me even more shameless when i say i'm doin' practically nothin' to make myself learn. i guess it's hard when you know you've got somethin' really to learn.. you know what to learn.. but you know you can't.

maybe the only thing i did learn... the simple is somewhat easy.. n' the complicated.. well it's most of the times difficult... so the simple thing is.. to pull the simple things near you n' push the rest awayyyy... i've almost spent an eon to realize it.. i just hope i don't have to spend another just to make myself convinced that it's actually easy!

scared...

2007-04-19T10:03:00.000+05:30

i'm scared... i'm so scared... oh please please oh please... please take care of everythin' god... just want to get rid of the fear... please take me through... please.. please. i beg.

ironies.. just too many

2007-04-18T21:59:00.000+05:30

severe phone hatred... microwave kisses. love n' breakups... hate n' tie ups. gravity n' elevators. exhausted n' refreshed. symbolic hyphens... bodyaches n' reiki... crowded gardens... abandoned libraries... observed stairways... sex with helmets... sleep in exams... daydream in the nights... vegetarian eggs... romantic economics!

p.s. n' just wait n' wait n' wait..... sigh!

can i talk like this for a while?

2007-04-16T23:09:00.000+05:30

elevators in supermarket... almost sound rhythmic. sad... poets don't use them in sonnets. i proved newton right again. the action-reaction-affair. i was goin' down.. n' my blood was rushin' up. i was suspended in the air for just about a minute... with just two hopes... the door never openin' again... n' my senses never landin' in sanity. but i can't even regret even when they both did.... even when i never had enough. i found out that love tastes salty even though lovers claim it to be sweet. don't blame them. maybe love tastes different when is in a motion with a acceleration of 9.8m/sec/sec.

does it always have to do with your heart when people talk about love n' its consequences n' all the canonical forms exhibitin' polymorphism... because right now... it's just my feet which hurt. maybe it's just too poetic.. i'm the footloose man who've lost his mind!

sad but true...

2007-04-15T22:04:00.000+05:30

# the first hug can be in the most complicated situations whatsoever... when you think you're standin' just before the end of somethin' which you don't want to end.. after long-hour-tearful-phonecalls... while you're still in the transition phase of panic attack n' post traumatic syndrome.. while you feel there's a lot of space between you n' her.. literally speakin' ofcourse.. n' she does it quite abruptly again without any prior notice/agenda.. n' you're supposed to reciprocate/react/respond which you do.. only to get a review sometime later... "you were quite stiff!!" :(

# the long-awaited-first-whatever that you've planned for weeks could turn out to be disastrous... the open air restaurants can close down without any prior notice/agenda or any apparent reason... the sun can shine really bright n' you've distances to walk.. n' then she can turn out to be the most intelligent woman on the planet when you want to have a sweet conversation n' the lunch just a side dish :(

# she-who-says-loves-you-the-most can cuddle a puppy in the same way she cuddles you. but you don't feel that way.. what you feel... she-who-says-loves-you-the-most cuddles a puppy with more passion n' intensity than the way she cuddles you :(

but sadness seems to be fine till now.. as the only word that comes to my mind when i think about everythin'... PERFECT!!! just PERFECT!!!! :)

you don't get it... you don't get it!!!!

2007-04-15T11:32:00.000+05:30

the factor which makes a lot of contribution to make a girl is called estrogen... but the problem is... even when there's a deficiency of this factor.. they're still called girls.. n' you've like no clue about it unless you get involved!!! but still.. blame in on the guy... because that's how you do it!!!!

madhatter knows what i'm talkin'.. because poor him.. victim of the same deficiency.. n' yeah.. this is funny.. the guy becomes the victim when the girl lacks the estrogen!!! the usual conversation between madhatter n' his girlfriend were of the likes as below:

mad girl: i want to feel just the way you feel..
madhatter: ok (what the fuck?!)
mad girl: you can give everythin' to me so easily... when i know i'm just takin' takin' n' takin'...
madhatter: but you give everythin' to me..
mad girl: but i wanna give more... just like you do.. i wannna feel the same as you do..

n' the rest.. are all those words which a guy wants to speak but can never never never speak...

what the fuck is wrong with you.. do you think i really care what you feel or don't.. just let me feel what i want to feel.. i mean please!!!!!!!! damn you.. "i'm just takin' takin' n' takin'.." you wanna give.. fine.. i'm always out of money.. give me a cheque.. a big amount.. n' i'll make you feel like nobody else.. n' everyone's happy... i mean fuck you!!!!!!! :P

but we're still alive...

2007-04-12T23:54:00.000+05:30

What is this gypsy passion for separation, this
readiness to rush off when we've just met?
My head rests in my hands as I
realize, looking into the night

that no one turning over our letters has
yet understood how completely and
how deeply faithless we are, which is
to say: how true we are to ourselves.

-- Marina Tsvetayeva

the law of recedin' sanity...

2007-04-12T00:24:00.000+05:30

most relationships are absurd. the only thing that makes this statement unreal is the "most" part.. all relationships are absurd. they're weired. they're illogical. they're not rational. the only thing which makes them work is the part that we don't know about it. as soon as we figure it out... it goes apart. but that isn't a bad thing actually.. it's not supposed to mean somethin' negative. we can survive a relationship even if we find the irrational part n' know how to ignore it. i know it's desperate.. but most relationships are. sometimes just too much honesty can kill a relationship. maybe sometimes a hair color can threat its existence. it's just actually a refusal of self belief that you're alone. the part which you don't like. it's a simple blasphemy of the fact that you're miserable.. maybe that's what we all are meant to be. relationship is our unwillingness to accept the obvious.. but i guess there's nothin' wrong in it.

p.s. maybe i'll step backwards from perfection.. n' you walk towards it!!!! if we meet we'd know we were on the same track...

alive...

2007-04-11T17:49:00.000+05:30

n' it wasn't even spring this time. i thought you'd wait till spring. because that's when everythin' ends for me. not this time. funny if i think in that way... took so many nights to make believe myself. it just took one single night to let go everythin'. last night was such a big robber. it just took away everythin' i had.. everythin' i could have. there are times when you know the only reason you're alive is because you're not dead. hadn't been my life filled with those times.. it'd have been so empty.

i know...

2007-04-11T14:16:00.000+05:30

i know this. every emotion.. every breath.. the movement of my pupils... the trail my tears take... i know your words even before you speak.. i know how you feel.. even before you feel 'em. more precisely.. i know you.. all of you... it's like knowin' you more than i know myself. but still... i know me as well.. i just don't know why... i just don't know why. i've been nice to all of you... n' the price i pay to be so is my life.. i always end up losin' the part i love the most of it.. n' i do.. everytime.. each time. i know how the air feels now.. i know how the songs ring in the ears now.. i know how the pillow cover will try to embrace you because there's no one else. i know this long walk.. it's just me.

the analysis of me was perfect.. this is where everyone goes wrong. this is the part.. the un-understood.. the misread.. the unexplained....

all the times i keep on tellin' i hate myself.. i do. it's not what it sounds. it's not a lie either. but you don't get it. you don't get that it also means i love myself.. i love the way i'm. i don't feel anythin' to be ashamed of me which makes me. i love the way i feel.. i love the way i see things.. i love the way i understand or try to understand everythin'. i love the softness within me.. i love the goodness in me.. i love when i know i can make a difference.. i love when i can make everyone happy. i don't see anythin' in my life which i should give up.. n' that's the reason i don't. the fact that i still hate myself is because... after everythin'.. i just couldn't do anythin' for me.. not a single thing.. n' i keep on hurtin' myself. n' still do it. n' that's a good enough reason to hate anyone.. it's just me.. so i hate myself.

n' all the other times i keep on tellin' i deserve what i get.. i lie. i don't think i deserve so much of pain every time. i never meant anyone harm.. even to people who meant nothin' but just harm. yeah.. that's true. but this is what it ends with.. i endin' up cryin' in the staircase.. n' wipe my tears as i come down so that not a single soul can make out. no. i don't deserve this.

n' now i refuse. i refuse everythin'. i refuse this world. i refuse these people. i refuse myself too. i know how to grow old.. n' i think i was doin' all fine. life interfered. that's all. it's not gonna interfere again. i won't let it.

n' lately...

2007-04-07T16:27:00.000+05:30

under the rugs was the reader n' he came out. dust. it's been more than a quarter n' a half month n' still not over 50 pages. busy? and i was born in the boredom and the chowder. awake. still feels like a dream. i sleep after swimmin' in my own bed.. not with thoughts but with love. n' lately i've been tainted.. still hoverin' around the raucous boundaries of my sanity. my vocabulary inflicted by yours. will... surrendered.

can't stop smilin'... just can't

2007-04-05T21:54:00.000+05:30

was i hidin' from you... or maybe i don't like your face.. or am i too scared to show you mine.. n' again here we're.. sittin' with eyes which don't want to look into one another. was i tryin' to find the exception.. the anomaly? maybe a little too hard... n' probably i was seein' it.. where there was none. i drift.. but i retreat. i relentlessly feed my weaknesses.... shamelessly bury my regrets when i swallow my own ego... i ain't ashamed to accept defeat. n' yeah...this is me.

dear one who still keeps her king in the back row

2007-04-01T13:27:00.000+05:30

n' the reason i might sound an offbeat poet for a while is only because that's how i sound when i'm in the realms of hopelessness... n' do i have to raise my finger to point at you... to let you know that "you're the one" who has victimized me oh so deeply.. that i never want to get out of this sickness? ..n' now it's left to you... how you take the you-are-the-one part... you become the accused if you take that superficially.. n' you become everythin' else includin' the accused.. if you take it a little more deeply!!! in either case... you remain responsible for my condition!!!

n' so my childhood had got nothin' to do with fairy tales if your want of knowin' me inside out is still on... the reason is mostly left unknown to me.. partly undisclosed.. but i never liked the way it rhymed so well... not that i had any ill feelings with rhymes... but maybe my parity with indulgence on worldly acceptance of most matters like the way they should have been was highly restrained.. n' i'm not quite sure what the last sentence really meant.. (but sounded cool huh?.. n' who knows.. must have meant somethin'.. maybe exactly what i wanted to!!).. so don't feel dumb if you didn't understand it.. your status of dumbnesshood has got nothin' to do with it.. it's way too independent n' fairly intact!!!! so it's firmly established that i didn't like them.. even with or without satisfyin' your immortal thirst to conquer all the why's even if it's related to my neighbour's wife.

i like stories without any rhymes.. the ones which are thoroughly stupid. i like them because it reminds me of all my dreams that i had of a girl... my girl. n' she's so hard to find.. n' even when i get her.. i'm so sure i can't get enough of her... she's like so lesbian.... that i can never turn her on... n' if you think it's depressin'... then better don't think at all. i'm not depressed. she wants to grow fat.. yes you heard it. she believes thighs aren't thighs at all if they're not equipped with lumps of flesh... n' she thinks her ass is the only precious thing she has got. her memories from the past makes her a cold blooded bird hater. obsessed with names people might think of her.. i'd say she's just obsessed... n' when she's not obsessed... she's obsessed with names. her monkey she sleeps with... the eggs which had fallen in her balcony.. the bike she rides so awfully... the fish which died sometime back... her last week's diapers.. i mean all have names.. all thought-about-over-n'-over-again kind of names. she wants to marry a tamilian n' yeah.... she wants to think i'm gay.

i mean yeah.. a thousand words can't say what a picture can... but a lot few words can draw a thousand pictures n' a simple math would prove they'll say more... the description was word perfect if not picture perfect. n' the hardest part is the waitin' part... because she's always busy in her plays n' the rest of the time... she takes exams.. she's still takin' one when i've none to attend!

descriptively yours,
....

unhaiku!!

2007-03-30T13:10:00.000+05:30

pamper moonlight
teardropped sunrise

secrets from supernova
speak let go
through the microphone

3-2-1
"Play" - the song.
know not dancin'
will you dance with me.

hold the phone
beneath the sheet
i roll on my bed
upside down

powdered blood
begins to flow back
nostalgic heart
forgets to beat

stay don't go
but i see the mirror
still hold me close
will you leave me not

changin' colors

2007-03-26T13:07:00.000+05:30

so how shall i put this one?? have i changed colors.. or it's just my true colors showin'. i feel great... maybe i'm even happy of what i'm doin'. should i i-don't-know-it. sometimes i wonder... is it my fear to know the true answers.. or am i bein' just lazy. maybe both. so let me ignore the ewww's n' the why-the-inferiority-complex shit.. it's actually shit anyway! n' i thought i was the only one who's scared.. maybe people are lot more scared than me.. they're even scared of changes.. but i know they'll accept them when it becomes a cliche.. poor them! you already have my condolences people!

you.. just you

2007-03-21T23:06:00.000+05:30

n' was i drenched by the downpour of your radiance? ...when my senses still etch with the dryness of yesterday. was i soaked in my own far-crossed-the-line panic breathings? ...each one more intensified than the previous... the need to stop them was just a thought of an afterthought.

corals... i thought of corals when i saw you ...even when my sanity proclaims louder than my heart believes that i'm still alive.. that i'vent... but still... i felt our thoughts clingin' onto one another. what were we thinkin'? ...n' were you lookin' for an answer? ...when all our thoughts drew perfect trapezes of confusion in the boundaries of vagueness.

n' i was standin' alone in the causeway to nowhere... n' i was seein' us as i looked into our shadows on the wall... when light was just like footsteps into the darkness... n' did we make the tango? ...in that flickerin' blanket of our existence... in the spaces of my thoughts serenaded by you.. just you.

2007-03-06T12:28:00.000+05:30

there's a joy to borrow
n' i shall hide my sorrow

there's a weight to carry
n' there's no soul to bury.

carin' much like i do
runnin' nowhere i can go to

grayin' cells of tuesdays
shinnin' on my doorway...

knockin' on my backdoor
i rush to see the front one.

heart beats tend to falter
day light savings break the rhythm

when the ice is formin'
i've cut my fingers

we've started like strangers..
n' see how we've just ended like them.

ironies...

2007-03-03T20:00:00.000+05:30

when they gave me life.. i mean my very own.... i wish it came in a singularity. because after years of solitude... i think i've grown enough to realize i was wrong. it was a given life with a lifetime of ironies. the most pronounce human trait amongst a million others is to completely ignore "what it is" n' wonder whole of their lives ponderin' about "how it should be".. although this statement is only reliable only if you believe it to be.. n' i do. n' i don't remember the first time when i got sick of this life.... tried to run away from it. not by takin' it away.. but just by runnin' away from it. can't quite explain how i did it.. but certainly i did it. n' i tried real hard to kill even the remotest symptoms of life in n' around.... n' still needin' to end up without dyin'. but maybe in this personal quest of mine.... i somehow managed to forget the ironies that prevail n' persist. it's easier to unsee or even ignore your own existence.. but it's almost never possible to escape any of those ironies. my action of runnin' away from life is actually makin' me more n' more alive... because i'm showin' the most pronounced human trait amongst a million others... ignorin' "what it is" n' tryin' to get hold of "how it should be". -- "irony.. isn't it?"

i chose the straightest lane down south n' drove as far i could. but my rearview mirror never fails to deceive me. sometimes i slam my backdoor n' go runnin' to see if there's someone in the front one. how hard can you try to forget everythin' what you remember.. when even a bleatin' goat or a pin drop acts as strong memory boosters...

life is sometimes so erotic

2007-03-03T17:21:00.000+05:30

I’m uncomfortable about sex. Sex… could kill you. Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, espiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you’re lifting three times your body weight. It’s violent, it’s ugly, and it’s messy, and if God hadn’t made it unbelievably fun… the human race would have died out eons ago. Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. You know that women can have an hour-long orgasm?

cellar door

2007-02-28T22:08:00.000+05:30

relivin' this half life yet again... n' i have to because it's kind of short... can't hope in the lines of endurability or persistence n' so i mostly live in patterns... deliberate misobersations sometimes give me a way to see somethin' new. n' maybe after some 20 years of consumed consumption of myself... all these flashes seem so distant.. it doesn't even look like mine... like remote traces of gun powder from some ancient silo... a bergschrund of memory or somethin'.

i'm a ferris wheel junkie addicted to myself.... addicted of bein' someone else n' want others think that's me. mostly scared by the matters of reality eludin' myself from my kingdom of ghosts.

p.s. visitin' places don't always mean you feel at home there. sometimes you're too scared of not bein' invited never again. n' i was thinkin' i could have been popular as well if the first choices took a day off.

strange night...

2007-02-24T02:03:00.000+05:30

there is somethin' strange about this night... although i'm qualifyin' it so probably in the most inappropriate time n' you must believe me when i say so. the distant memories pilin' up once again or might be just the wideness of my sleeplessness. some of them looked so far... it was a little hard for me to accept for a while that every one of them was actually a part of my own life. it was a bit different for me to just think about all the times when i waited... n' rememberin' it was fun... probably more so because now... i don't .

people still talk like this... they do.

2007-02-22T16:23:00.000+05:30

In every game and con there is always an opponent and there is always a victim. The trick is to know when you're the latter, so you can become the former.

It's very simple. You do all the hard work, I just help you along. The art is for me to feed pieces to you and make you believe you took those pieces, because you are smarter and I am dumber. In every game and con there is always an opponent and there is always a victim. The more control the victim thinks he has, the less control he actually has. Gradually he will hang himself. I, as the opponent, just help him along.

The formula has infinite depth in its efficacy and application, but it is staggeringly simple and completely consistent.

Rule one of any game or con: You can only get smarter by playing a smarter opponent.

Rule number two. The more sophisticated the game, the more sophisticated the opponent.

If the opponent is very good, he will place his victim inside an environment he can control. The bigger the environment, the easier the control. Toss the dog a bone, find their weakness, and give them just a little of what they think they want.

So the opponent simply distracts their victim by getting them consumed with their own consumption. The word "snake" springs to mind. Don't knock it. You only get smarter by playing a snake.

The bigger the trick and older the trick, the easier it is to pull. Based on two principles. They think it can't be that old and they think it can't be that big, for so many people to have fallen for it. Eventually, when the opponent is challenged or questioned, it means the victim's investment and thus his intelligence is questioned. No-one can accept that, not even to themselves.

There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-fuckin' rah. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.

do not ask why... because we live in a world where we cannot afford to believe the truths.

2007-02-02T16:10:00.000+05:30

And how do I ignore that I have seen darkness for far too long before I stared or rather made to stare this light where my first feeling was fear unveiling my first expression with tearfuls of cry making gibberish efforts of breathing hearing the woes of the woman who gave me my own birth soaked in her blood which I claim to be my own just like my life which is supposed to be having a story with colors and my inabilities to recognize them explaining all my lifelong attempts of reckoning time and awarding myself yet another glorious glimpse of its failure narrating the tales of hope without faith remorse without forgiveness rainbow without colors and a name without any claim.

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

2006-12-22T09:45:00.000+05:30

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'

2006-12-17T12:21:00.000+05:30

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

2006-12-12T09:52:00.000+05:30

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

2006-12-11T14:30:00.000+05:30

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'

2006-12-05T10:14:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-12-04T16:20:00.000+05:30

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

2006-12-03T21:19:00.000+05:30

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

2006-12-01T12:57:00.000+05:30

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!

2006-11-29T18:42:00.000+05:30

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!

2006-11-29T09:54:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-11-18T12:43:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-11-13T09:44:00.000+05:30

#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?

2006-11-11T17:00:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-11-08T10:36:00.000+05:30

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!

2006-11-05T18:33:00.000+05:30

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....

2006-11-04T14:11:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-11-03T15:34:00.000+05:30

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?

2006-11-02T11:35:00.000+05:30

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?

2006-10-31T11:35:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-30T10:27:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-10-29T19:15:00.000+05:30

#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...

2006-10-26T13:44:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-25T10:33:00.000+05:30

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?

2006-10-22T12:12:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-14T17:00:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-11T16:28:00.000+05:30

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...

2006-10-07T14:18:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-05T10:01:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-04T16:55:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-02T20:19:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-30T12:45:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-28T12:36:00.002+05:30

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

2006-09-27T19:45:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-24T16:35:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-17T17:16:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-17T14:31:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-16T10:55:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-10T20:19:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-10T15:56:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-08T14:13:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-06T18:09:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-02T17:20:00.000+05:30

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

2006-09-01T14:04:00.000+05:30

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

2006-08-31T15:27:00.000+05:30

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.....

2006-08-26T14:05:00.000+05:30

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.

fake plastic trees....

2006-05-27T20:05:00.000+05:30

if life had been just the same.... trees that don't really fall. windows that aren't really broken. leaves that are no longer blown. magic that never gets lost..... the blood was ligther i guess. n’ i never really knew how the density increased eventually when my reports said my haemoglobin was sinkin’ below normal. but that’s not the point. the point is.... what made it feel so heavy. for then i started to feel all so very strongly that everythin’ else was pilin’ up inside me. i was partially scared to cut myself the other day. i didn’t want to. probably an ode to my “logical” side. i found it funny though i thought about it. i wanted to let it out.

the worst part of forgettin’ things isn’t really the forgettin’ part but not at all realizin’ what is forgotten. i mean just a thought. probably things would have been atleast somewhat better if not perfectly figured out. when you knew exactly what you forgot. but it doesn’t happen. but the worst part of rememberin’ is that you remember it all the time till you forget it. n’ you possibly remember nothin’ more.

n’ when i tried to get hold of what had happened.... i just couldn’t remember what did i forget. but all i got were snapshots of 400 days as if that was the only part n’ everythin’ else was not even vague but complete blank. i could only remember the torn out pieces of the thermocol which comes out in small spheres. those were probably my dolls. paper rings which break up so easily starts flyin’ in the night sky.... n’ i went on growin’ those fake plastic trees hopin’ for a bud not only to show up but also to blossom. i wonder how did i do it... but i did.

with just a hopeless hope for 1 day which bears the power of makin’ me forget all those 400 days.... forgettin’ in the way that you don’t even remember what you forgot. do fake plastic trees even grow.... let alone bloomin’ flowers! are paper rings worn on the fingers?

it’s not how much more i’ve paid for all i forgot or remembered than the other.... but it’s the temporary phase in which i remain has made me immensely poor for what i remember i forget sometime later n’ what i forget i remember again. it’s the price of my poetic memory i’ve paid more than often which has mainly succeeded in renderin’ me into a man of timeless debts.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

i wonder why....

2006-05-24T16:42:00.000+05:30

sometimes i feel it’s incredibly easy to be happy when i know it isn’t so easy at all... but still. sometimes i feel it’s even easier to make someone happy n’ i do sometimes. n’ i also know what i wrote just now is actually the truth n’ i’m not tryin’ to write poetry here. n’ i wonder... why do they still spend most of their times not bein’ happy. i wonder... why do they take so much of time n’ complications to make someone unhappy when makin’ someone happy is so simple n’ doesn’t even take much of our time. i wonder why....

he didn’t....

2006-05-23T00:05:00.000+05:30

he was smaller then. i do remember. it was an early mornin’. those were exam days. n’ he was swearin’ hard. still in bed.... makin’ weird sounds as if he was havin’ some nightmares. he wanted his mother to hold him but couldn’t dare to tell her why he was all so scared. he knew the reason was stupid. but a stupid reason was still a reason. he was scared n’ almost cryin’. he wasn’t prepared for the exam. that was the final term. n’ was in half way of some deal with god that if he gets through this time.... he’d be regular in his routine the next time. he was so scared. gets up n’ manages to look through the book. it always looked so big.

he was a bad boy..... really bad. n’ strangely when i recall stories about him.... i don’t think he’ve changed. infact he didn’t. he’s still almost the same. he didn’t change.

can’t remember.....

2006-05-22T17:12:00.000+05:30

it’s only on those rare occasions when i see a dream just like i want to. events not really happenin’ but a mere reflection of my will. if only someone didn’t wake me up.... but i was forcefully brought into the real world. n’ still durin’ the alteration of my orientation.... i completely lost my grip on my consciousness which i wanted to have on my lucidity. i tried hard but as if it was just not recorded. i was left deserted with this solitary feelin’ that i was havin’ somethin’ pleasant which was also under my control... but i just can’t recall it back.

n’ i can’t even blame the one who woke me up for only then i could atleast pick up those residues of my dream that reminded me the taste of it..... or else i’d have remained completely ignorant.

n’ it makes me wonder..... maybe how many dreams such as these i’ve already had. maybe i’m just not aware of them.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

stop whisperin’

2006-05-21T13:50:00.000+05:30

i say hurry up. for you may never know when it’s already just too late... n’ think afterwards..... maybe even after long years that “why couldn’t i figure out the difference between a goodnight n’ a goodbye.... n’ they went away with their suitcases packed.”... which also contained your laughter n’ tears.

so don’t wait no more. remove that dry leaf from her shoulder if you really want to before the wind volunteers n’ take it away........ n’ she may never know what really happened between you n’ the wind. alright you can have one complaint but he may have two. so what’s the use of keepin’ scores if it can only make you lose in the end.

stop just rememberin’ someone for so long that someone starts forgettin’ you. someone may not agree. but someone may. so stop whisperin’.... for those whispers may get lost. for they maybe surrounded by people who talk a lot. n’ most of them forget when they talk that they always had an option of keepin’ quiet. an option which you may have taken so often.

stop whisperin’. start shoutin’..... till you make those echoes whisper what you wanted to say. reach for the hand before it slips away forever. or else.... even when you’ll find it back.... maybe there won’t be no blood still runnin’ inside it which makes it really warm.

maybe you mean what you mean. but it’d mean nothin’ at all till you mean it. n’ no matter how much you pay the stevedores to carry your emotions back to your heart..... some cargo will always fall in the way.... n’ they’ll be seen in your eyes what your lips just couldn’t say. but maybe then.... there won’t be no one to look straight into your eyes.

you don’t have to wait for someone to fall to hold them but you can do that right now. you don’t have to be in a crowded place to start shoutin’ but you can shout in perfect silence too. stop whisperin’. i say... stop whisperin’.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

why should you care if i’m not even there....

2006-05-20T10:47:00.000+05:30

sometimes i feel we meet just too many people in our lives.... the people who know us. n’ we mark a few of them as important ones. n’ they may not even know about it. there’re other few whom we haven’t even met but only hope that we shall meet.... n’ still consider them as important n’ they take a relevant part of our attention. n’ there’re those precious few whom we still haven’t met n’ we also know that chances are that we may never meet. but that doesn’t stop us from thinkin’ about them.... from missin’ them. n’ all those people so form my life which is why i don’t really mind to be really me after all.

but i just want to focus on that lot that come into our lives. n’ they move. they lose touch with us n’ they slowly disappear into the bigger crowd of this world. n’ i wonder the places we once have taken in their lives.... what happens to those places later? are they completely gone or we still come back sometimes in form of ugly ghosts. do people remember me just like i remember them? i know i could think of a lot of things other than just a mere possiblity.... but maybe for a while i should allow myself to do so.

have you been thinkin’ about me
like no one else.
couldn’t sleep in the nights
n’ want somethin’ for me
n’ you play with yourself
with a smile that won’t fade
have you been thinkin’ about me

do you feel like it’s me
in the clock of your wall
do you feel that i stare
when you go for a shower
n’ you talk to yourself
when they’re people around
have you been thinkin’ about me

no cigarettes to smoke
no whiskey to drink
do you still feel so high
that you think you can cry
n’ do you feel if you won’t
it’s only me you’ve to hold
have you been thinkin’ about me

do you notice me
when i’m not around
do you think how can i sleep
when it’s me you dream about
do you feel you’ve heard a whisper
when all the echoes hit the wall
do you feel like a song
when everything’s all wrong
do you still love me
n’ see my face
n’ while you’re in bed
you don’t feel what you need
have you been thinkin’ about me

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

a tribute to a writer....

2006-05-19T17:15:00.000+05:30

how often do you forget somethin’ even before you get to remember it... how often do you feel like givin’ somethin’ when you don’t feel like takin’ anythin’ at all.. how often do you feel you’ve lost someone even when they’ve not really lost you.... how often do you feel lightness to be a bigger burden than the heavy. how often do you have to see it all go away even when you get a chance to keep it..... how often do you pay more for freedom you’ve always longed for than the bondage you never liked. how often do you regret more for all the lies that you’ve not told than the the truths that you did. how often do you intend to live forever n’ end up dyin’ probably more than once.... how often people identify you as someone like john doe. how often do you love someone with the only hope of not bein’ loved back.

n’ how often do you find a writer who just can’t afford to show what’s bein’ written. down below are only two pieces out of probably many who won’t just never come out. this is only my way of sayin’ that i liked these writings just like i liked so many others written by you.

ALIVE

It was all so still
Even the air
Like a cemetery
It was all bare

I was all dead
Devoid of life
Cold, barren, empty
Without light

Then time stopped
To set me free
The day it rained
You came for me

Soaking my wounds
Until they bled
Breathing life
Among the dead

For the first time
I felt. I felt.
The ice around me
Had melt.

Breaking all barriers
I took the dive
And when you held my hand
I knew I was alive.

Killing me softly...

Mesmerized, by your presence
Alive, by your touch
Lost, in your words
And you aren't even there…

Hallucinations crowd my mind
Passion fills my soul
Insanity sways my thoughts
And you aren't even there…

Wiping at my heart's cobwebs
Lighting up my sinister life
Setting my soul on fire
And you aren't even there…

Killing me softly...
and you're not even there

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

still lookin’ for...

2006-05-18T17:03:00.000+05:30

n’ there’re times like these when i wonder.... i mean seriously. there’re supposed to be a lot of people everywhere. lot of families too. n’ i think... if there’re families identical to mine. just like physical identicals. the reason for me to think like this is mainly because all the friends n’ people i know don’t have an identical family like mine. i won’t say ours is one of its kind..... n’ shouldn’t even be a rarity. but still i’ve not found another one yet. strange.

my mother always tend to shout at me... i won’t say most of the times. but seriously... i’ve not kept any score. but still i feel she never shouted at me in the more common matters. never ever told me to study when i was a kid when i’ve seen all my friends.. they need to sit on the study table as they were forced upon. i was never shouted at for takin’ a bath...oh that was supposed to be not takin’ a bath. it’s becomin’ confusin’. all i wanted to say that my mother never shouted at me on any bathin’ issue whatsoever.

everyone wakes up not so early. almost late. i wake up the latest. my mom the second latest. which quite obviously means late breakfast n’ late lunch. everyone can dominate most others but there’re a few exceptions or rather protocols. me n’ my brother... well i don’t remember we takin’ opposite sides. i don’t even remember if we took the same side. we were just so cool about one another! my mother seldom takes my side. that’s because i somehow go to the opposite side. i like doin’ that. that keeps her mostly at her feet. no one dares to declare a war against my father. but obviously i’m not included in that no one list. but seriously no one besides me.

i sleep late. i mean late from “homes” point of view. that will be not before 2 in the night. but again that is only an eventuality. resultin’ from a late dinner which is mostly taken after 11 in the night. n’ no. i don’t take it alone. i obviously take it with my family.

n’ ok. i’m quite old. i’m old enough. but i still sleep with my parents. i don’t like sleepin’ in a different room. infact i never did that before i had to move out for those graduation years. n’ irony it is. i was the guy who used to sleep with his mother n’ father till 18 i guess. n’ for the last 1 year... maybe more. i’ve not seen the face of my home. i wonder why.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

couldn’t have....

2006-05-17T17:10:00.000+05:30

if the stars above me fell down sometimes
i couldn’t have felt that i was the only fallen one.
if the world around me wasn’t so big enough
i couldn’t have felt so small again.
if the heavens they didn’t stand so high
i couldn’t have felt so low like this.
if my only friend wasn’t the sun after all
i couldn’t have regretted to be an ice cube that much.
if there were no holes in the soles of my shoes
i couldn’t have felt so cold as i walked.
if i didn’t know what i was
i couldn’t have felt what have i become.
if my love for you wasn’t so strong
i couldn’t have felt the weakness in yours.
if i could have taken somethin’ from you
i couldn’t have given you anythin’ more.

life is mostly amazin’.....

2006-05-16T12:21:00.000+05:30

yeah i’m sayin’ this on behalf of my neighbors. for me..... life has mostly been just life. nothin’ more. it has more often acted like an adjective. my friend, a good one, says that i’ve seen it a lot. n’ i immediately believe him when he says somethin’ like that. i don’t know why. but it’s rather strange that life always shows somethin’ more than just that. as if there’s always some trail of film which is leftover after the “the end” board. the element of surprise is becomin’ more n’ more, less surprisin’. but i still end up bein’ suprised.

love was just like the one legged man in the kick boxin' competition. it just didn't have enough time for me. it was always in some sort of a hurry n’ fell off anytime without much of a warning. it had a fate of someone like an undercover agent who was just not sure when his cover would blow up. but i still feel capable enough to give somethin’ more but i just couldn’t dare to ask no one nothin’..... no matter how much i want.

if dreams were like movies then memories were films about ghosts. some looked good.... only on the first watch..... others looked better when i saw them repeatedly.... sometimes even in slow motion. but like every other movie.... it had an endin’... mostly happy endings for i really liked happy endings. but i still couldn’t ignore the fact that it always ended.... n’ there was no point in keepin’ the tape still inside the player. i had to replace it with another one which soon was to be replaced by another one.

n’ no i’m not tryin’ to give any sort of respect to my life or writin’ any sort of tribute-essay. i’m not even raisin’ a toast as a mark of exclamation. for guys like me never fit in much into raising-the-toast kinda category. n’ thank god they don’t. otherwise it’d be somethin’ really borin’.... somethin’ like changin’ a fused bulb. but somehow i’ve always seen characters like holden caulfield, timothy conroy..... even florentino ariza(i don’t know why) growin’ up with me. i wouldn’t say i had compared myself with them or i had some sort of competition... or i had started becomin’ like them.... but as i quote now... “it’s like livin’ them!”. n’ that was obviously not my line. i liked them for they were really very funny. but somehow.... life was always funnier than them or for that matter anyone else. i just wanted to say however practical it went somewhere.... that humor was still supposed to be funny. n’ i’m beginnin’ to like it i guess or i’m atleast beginnin’ to write that i like it.

n’ it’s rather sad that on such an important day of my life when i actually want to talk about me n’ my life.... i couldn’t think of a single soul who’ll be least interested in listenin’.... let alone understandin’ that why i’m tryin’ to tell it after all.... rather than understandin’ what i’m tryin’ to say. but i’ve to write it down on a lousy blog page talkin’ to some anonymous server which is fully automated n’ i don’t even know where it’s located. but i still felt it was better than just constructin’ some meaningful sentences that took more than just years to build up in the still-present-sensitive part of my brain n’ forgettin’ them almost instantaneously.... because only today i got to realize that although i’ve brilliant rememberin’ capabilities... i’ve a far too accurate forgettin’ key knowledge that i could never include in my resume.

it’s definitely hasn’t been so good so far... but the good thing still to live with.... it hasn’t been the worst either. n’ these are only my last joules of energy still left within me after which probably there’ll be a complete blackout. well i’m definitely exaggeratin’ here but that’s what you do while bloggin’.

well... when men rush in... it’s pretty obvious that the lilies would get crushed on their way. but it’d be foolish not to expect those lilies growin’ back.... just like it’d be foolish as well to expect those men not to rush in again. n’ after all these years.... i won’t say i’ve lost my faith or i’ve kept it when i’ve stopped complainin’. for then i had already realized that i never belonged to this planet n’ accepted that things couldn’t just be happenin’.

n’ i fell down just now. don’t worry. it was on my bed.... but still don’t neglect the fall though. i didn’t much like dyin’ for it was all too serious n’ borin’. but i always felt sleepin’ as fun not because it was fun as such... but it was more fun than keepin’ awake. i just want to go to sleep. no. not just a sleep. a d16 super cryogenic sleep. yeah. that sounded much better even though i don’t know what it’d mean when translated to english..... so that i could sleep forever hopin’ never to wake up again.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

if good were better....

2006-05-15T09:19:00.000+05:30

it’s rather strange. we never tend to realize how much we love someone. we never tend to realize the degrees beyond which we can bend our lives for the ones we love. probably i don’t even tend to realize if i still love a person n’ i surprise myself so often rather than anyone else when i come to know about it durin’ certain times.... n’ then, i’m never more sure of it than anythin’ else.

n’ it was a strange night. definitely not the longest one for i still remember the one which already happened. n’ i desperately hope that i don’t have to re-live it once again. but i can’t really explain the uniqueness of this particular last night. probably it was more or less a same one technically speakin’. but i liked the night probably because the breakin’ dawn saw me waitin’ for it. n’ i really did wait for it. when i still kept on lookin’ at the moon as it was fast disappearin’. it was probably pre-daybreak. the sun wasn’t bright enough n’ i could still boast my left over courage by starin’ into it.

i was sittin’ on the park bench for quite a while then. the joggers were late this time. n’ i was thinkin’ that i must be lookin’ incredibly smart or incredibly stupid as almost everyone was givin’ strange looks to me. probably the reason was my sittin’ on the park bench. but what so odd about it anyway. i mean florentino ariza did that a few years ago. n’ moreover i was doin’ somethin’ which was meant to be done on a park bench.... was harmlessly sittin’ on it imposin’ no threat whatsoever neither to the society.... nor to the planet.

n’ so i started walkin’ although i didn’t want to. n’ i saw few young girls with exceedingly tight pants. i thought that might be one of the reasons of the parks in the field of health contribution. girls in tight pants can easily improve anybody’s health. atleast it can improve mine. n’ i saw a dog starin’ at her ass. n’ i thought i saw somethin’ else. i felt the dog was starin’ at her ass just the same way i did. n’ somehow i felt he must have felt exactly the same kind of emotions as i did. n’ that depressed me a bit. it was somethin’ like as if i was writin’ a book about me.... n’ in one chapter.... the beginnin’ lines were. “n’ there was this one dawn in my life which was different than the rest when i realized for the first time after 24 years of livin’ that i was more or less a dog”. that didn’t make me feel much good. so i began to think of somethin’ else. i don’t quite remember what i thought.... but i definitely did think of somethin’ else.

i might have walked away if only i could have relied on the good. but i guess i’ll hang around till good becomes better. n’ who knows... maybe more?

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

come on....

2006-05-14T14:40:00.000+05:30

n’ it was quite likely that someday.... as i’d grow up..... i’d be hatin’ myself. somebody told me this i don’t remember who. but whoever he was.... he did have some vision. that day must not be too far if only it didn’t come already.

my mother always used to “shout” at me in the mornings. well i never took that in a wrong way. that was her way of sayin’ goodmornin’ to me. i can’t blame her if it was different from mine. although i found it a little strange when i thought about.... why wakin’ up late was considered as a “sin” by my mother. my curiosity increased beyond dimensions when i found out that it was considered so by most mothers. but still i never considered myself lazy. n’ i had reasons too. i never was a blind believer. not even of myself. i had always found someone better than me who could do the work given to me in a better way. i always believed in performance.... rather than givin’ importance to negligible issues like who actually did the work. well my mother did insist on my learnin’ of a musical instrument... which i didn’t.... for which i regret now.... but i didn’t regret then. i still had my reasons. i always thought if there was a better band who could play most of the musical instruments in a better way.... n’ the records are mostly available..... why do i need to learn it myself. as if there’s no other way to get music.

but lately i feel i’ve become a bit lazy. n’ strangely enough.... i’ve started hatin’ myself as i feel so. not that my laziness has affected me or anyone else in anyway. but i feel my behavior is becomin’ a bit different. n’ that “different” thing is actually botherin’ me. although it’s strange i admit. as if i’ve achieved perfection in me that i don’t like to change. well maybe i’vent. but i still believe even if someday i do reach perfection.... changin’ myself won’t help much in that cause.

but still.... things have become a little out of control now. yesterday i went out to have my lunch. but i decided to skip it. just didn’t feel like crossin’ the road. suddenly i felt crossin’ roads is particularly difficult. i don’t know how people do it. i did it a couple of times myself. but i don’t remember how did i do it. well standin’ on the crossroads... i can do.... but crossin’ roads. a bit tough.

yesterday... i also bought some clothes. almost an entire “wardrobe”. although shoppin’ has always provided me heavenly bliss. but this time... it was different. i did my shoppin’ because all my clothes were dirty.... when i didn’t have to wash it myself. i only need to hand it to the person that comes to my room. damn it! things are not headin’ somewhere great. probably i’m still alive only because home is a far far place from here.

n’ probably it’s extremely pleasant to sit just bein’ idle.... on a sunday afternoon.... when there’s no cable. i just can bear it when i’ve to kill my televised timings. n’ i was mostly thinkin’ of voices. voices in general n’ how they’ve a deep impact on my life. i just can’t believe i’m so vulnerable to voices. i become an addict to certain voices n’ i don’t even realize. n’ like everythin’ else... it has a darker side as well. i can so easily hate someone when i don’t like their voice. i know it’s crazy but i just can’t help it. there’s this girl i “occasionally” talk strictly over the phone. well there’s nothin’ much to be described about her voice. i hate that voice. if she ever falls into a situation when she’s on the verge of drownin’.... n’ she’s cryin’ for help n’ i’m just standin’ on the shore.... my first reaction will be.... “oh shut up!”.

it was only yesterday i got to know that someone hated someone n’ that actually made me real happy. not because i hated that same person or i’m generally a sadist kind of person.... but i realized that “hating” is a very essential human trait. i feel everyone should hate atleast someone if not everyone else!

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

had there been no nights....

2006-05-13T13:50:00.000+05:30

most of the nights of my life had passed barely noticed. i was always occupied. mostly fear. sometimes monday mornin’ category. unfortunately in my case all the five days of the week fitted into the same category...... it need not be assumingly a monday. n’ my hands looked black...... smeared with grease like someone workin’ in a garage. n’ i never gazed at the starry sky. but when i look back sometimes..... i still see a few dreams nestlin’ in the chromium branches of my yesterdays. i don’t know who’s gonna take care of them.

my mother don’t want to grow fat. i always felt growin’ to be more depressin’ than growin’ fat. infact i used to tell her bein’ fat is good..... “don’t you feel all the fat people occupyin’ an appreciable size in our memories.” i mean physical attributes must be atleast contributin’ a bit to build those mental images. n’ it must be good when someone remembers you more than the others.

n’ the times you remember are mostly not supposed to be remembered. but we’ve our own free will. everyone remembers or wants or tries to remember all the first things in their lives. as if all the events in their lives were standin’ in some queue to their memory banks. n’ there was only one ticket for the show.

life is mostly funny. it is divided into patches n’ further into four grey weeks. i never went so much deeper into science n’ i’m glad i didn’t. but someone probably did. n’ he found out that it took exactly 365 days for the earth to make one round trip. n’ he did a good job. if that task were given to me.... i’d have never figured it out. for i always felt i was more or less standin’ in the same place. but what led him to divide those days by a factor of 12. any elementary knowledgeable person could say 5 would have been a better divisor which would have given us 73 days in a month.

i felt life would have been a lot simpler that way. we wouldn’t have to adjust our wrist watches that showed dates as well in the end of every month..... we wouldn’t have to think twice before fixin’ a date if it were the last day of the month n’ check our knuckles everytime if such a day actually existed.

the funniest is undoubtedly february n’ makes no sense at all. the poor month alone falls a victim of the leap years..... probably someone got too tired of waitin’ for the spring n’ pulled the ribbon before the bell even rang. probably someone wanted to keep us busy n’ created such a big confusion. probably a different title to this post would have made a lot more sense.... probably it still makes a hell of a sense to me.

n’ i don’t know how they make the wind wind blow over the frozen lake with the sole intention to peel the skin off. n’ even if you somehow manage to stand long enough..... you’d soon fail to notice any difference between the old withered leaves n’ your hands. life would have been a lot more fun had it been just a few blank pages.... in which you could have written somethin’ you really liked..... rather than like readin’ a book with a few pages you never wanted to read. i’d have surely done somethin’ better than this if only i had a few more choices. n’ so.... i rely on the waters in the woods to carry me somewhere good.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

everythin’ is just a comparison....

2006-05-12T19:24:00.000+05:30

n’ when they told me i was good.... what did they really mean? i thought i was good. probably that’s what i meant when i told recently that i’ve been takin’ life a bit too seriously. n’ now i’m havin’ serious second thoughts. truth is always hard to be found. but once i found it.... i tried hard to escape it. wish i could.

n’ everythin’ was just a comparison with someone or somethin’. i wasn’t good. i was only better than someone else. n’ like every comparison.... that was only temporary. nobody missed me as i thought they did. but probably they were just lonely then n’ got no one else to tell that. my once better friend calls me very late. n’ i try hard not to see what he’s showin’ already. i try hard only to hear the words when he tells me he misses me. but once the truth i touched. i could feel nothin’ else but the truth. “yes i believe you n’ you do miss me. but don’t worry. you’d miss someone else soon.” do we just climb the stairs of a never endin’ list? a list that everyone owns.

a rose is not beautiful. it’s more beautiful now than the dried one. n’ it’s beautiful just for a while.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

too good....

2006-05-11T17:20:00.000+05:30

it’s true. it’s all very beautiful. n’ it’s too good. n’ now i know where lies the difference. it’s me. not them. n’ it feels so weird after wakin’ up from a lifetime of slumber. the pupils are still learning to contract. light is my cortez. n’ i’m made to see everythin’ that i didn’t want to see. n’ they were right. i wasn't. they were good. i wasn’t.

but i’ve got somethin’ for me. i don’t remember how did it start. probably i started doin’ it without knowin’ what i was doin’. probably two months back when one day i peeled off the skin from my right nipple. the feelin’ was exclusive n’ it bled. not really. the blood was still flowin’ like it was but without a cover. n’ then i got a wound. a bruise. every night before bedtime i used to scratch it to tear it open. still didn’t know what i was doin’. why i was doin’. but i just couldn’t resist the temptation whenever i saw my right nipple.

i couldn’t take off my shirt no more if there was someone around. i got embarrassed. it looked horrible. awful. my nails failed to satisfy me no more. it was a bit too superficial. i wanted to go deeper. n’ so i tried. old used shavin’ blades. n’ i got what i wanted. nothin’ was more pleasant than the sight of my old dry peeled off skin fallin’ down at my feet. the flight was elusive. perhaps cuttin’ the skin right from the tip of my right nipple was even better. n’ just for a while. maybe just for the night. my right nipple looks brand new with all the fresh cells unveiled. it was as good as anyone’s.

but i still wondered. was it just a habit? an addiction? that’s it? no. it’s my identification. yes it is. now it helps me to identify myself. it gives me a place. it gives me a ground where i can see myself standin’. n’ it amazes me to a great extent when i see my right nipple makin’ such a huge contribution for my establishment n’ my left nipple just doin’ absolutely nothin’ to help the cause. so not fair.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

n’ look what happened....

2006-05-10T21:33:00.000+05:30

it changed. yes it did. n’ it was all different then. well i hate to say that it was also better as it’ll reflect my oldness..... but i can’t restrain it no longer.

n’ those were days without no banners. no channels. no commercials. n’ we worked real hard to get one of those pieces. for there were no great stores as well. n’ the crowd was miniature n’ never in my life was i so proud of bein’ a minority.

n’ no there were no online aid providers..... forget about the search engines. but what existed then were just a few back benches n’ a few back pages. n’ all those gibberish lot relied on cross bordered smuggled magazines for the translation.

n’ we were not crazy about them. i doubt if we loved them either. for gods never received such emotions. those emotions were different. probably it was partial fear as well. yes, we might have feared them as well. n’ there no flash lights. no floors. no boxes either. n’ nothin’ was ever appended with it.... for that was all that we searched for.

n’ everythin’ was sacred. n’ we paid the price. our childhoods. our teens. but look what has happened. they feel they’re payin’ somethin’ when they peep into the showcases n’ in there remain the whores for sale. i never remembered if we ever talked about it. but we only consumed it..... probably even secretly. but now.... they talk n’ they talk a lot.

“yes we got your point. you’re veteran. you’re familiar. you’re provocative. n’ you’re rare as well. now can you pass the can please?”

n’ now i feel it’s better to stand without movin’ my lips rather than joinin’ the “un”needed chorus just to prove their touch with the field.

you can never ask me if i paid the price
for i stepped into the romance when i knew she had the Alzheimer's disease.
do all the best you can with your lip synchin’ exercises
but don’t just sing it when it reads
“don’t give your heart to a rock n’ roll band
for they might throw it away.”
they haven’t stopped wakin’ up late
but they’ve stopped to smile after wakin’ up.
they haven’t yet stopped leavin’
but they’ve stopped sayin’ “come with me”.
n’ you’ve to join them n’ be there
for life is just a fashion
it ain’t fun no more.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

just me n’ the glass....

2006-05-09T21:27:00.000+05:30

i don’t want to talk about the heart n’ the glass for i don’t treat them the same. i don’t. but the divide fascinates me. n’ everythin’ seemed so real even when i knew it wasn’t. i was feelin’ the wind of the storm outside. even the sprinkle. it was more than a sprinkle. the glass divides it so well. but it looked real. but still the division was real too. n’ there wasn’t any half measure. a few young girls stared. i stared at a few. but the glass again divided it. when i was never so sure it’d have been all so different when there wouldn’t have been no glass. i was leanin’ on her. probably i was leanin’ on her bare shoulder. probably i was caressin’ her hair or maybe her back. she was leanin’ on me too. we were both leanin’ on each other. but neither of us felt it. neither the skin.... nor the vicinity. the division was more than apparent even when it was untraceable from a distance. n’ the glass divided everythin’ when the geography showed that we shared a co-ordinate but we were miles apart. even sensuality lost its credibility although it can still work from miles apart. but the glass made the difference. the touch was almost real but it wasn’t. the glass caused the vacuum. it sucked up the sensuality. n’ she looked clearer. i looked clearer. we both looked clearer. although we weren’t sure if we looked at each other.

i looked across. n’ i looked across it. n’ i felt as if i’m lookin’ at my wasted years. my indistinct faint reflection stood like a hologram in the world beyond it. i saw people walkin’ through me. i saw eyes lookin’ through me. although it was all transparent..... i could still feel i was invisible. n’ only when the storm outside did stop.... i felt it wasn’t real for the world here was still the same. it was the glass that separated the real from the unreal. but it was beautiful.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

foolishness is beautiful....

2006-05-08T15:49:00.000+05:30

it’s a beautiful woven piece..... the events. the events that i’ve already done..... the ones that i’m still doin’. n’ a few that i intend to do. somekind of a tapestry. n’ it’s incredibly funny how often i draw a line... probably in some part of my future. n’ somehow i tend to believe that once i cross that line... all my past events would fail to cross it n’ i’ll go the distance. n’ probably it’s funnier that sometimes i even tend to run lookin’ for that line to cross.... forgettin’ that i can never reach that line if i run for it. but it’s only with time that i’m gonna find that line somewhere. n’ maybe i wouldn’t be knowin’ when i do find it.

n’ even now when i’m in the run..... n’ i look back still runnin’ hard. the image looks really different. n’ all the places that i’d already run across look different. n’ strangely everythin’ looks really foolish. every action..... every reaction. every word spoken n’ even the ones that i thought i’d but i didn’t. all my decisions n’ also my indecisions. few moments of surety n’ all my moments of enormous doubts. both the firmness n’ the weakness. all my losses n’ those rare victories. all my smiles n’ each single tear drop. every sneeze n’ every hiccup. every goose pimple n’ every freckle. everythin’ looks so foolish. but strangely...... they’re not a part of any shame. the foolishness residin’ everywhere in my vicinity. the foolishness that i’ve owned. the foolishness that i claim to be mine ain’t bringin’ me no shame. no. but it’s beautiful. it’s sweet. it’s mine. n’ it’s me.

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

n’ a realization....

2006-05-07T11:05:00.000+05:30

it’s a dream kind thing. the ones that you tend to forget. but forgettin’ ain’t the keyword here. i’m referrin’ to the little snapshots of the dream that comes back. n’ you tend to feel somethin’. i felt somethin’ last night. i don’t know.... probably it was the whole last year from May that was comin’ back to me or was it somethin’ else. wish i could have been sure sometimes.

but even in the realms of my “un”surety.... this realization has marked me with fear. n’ again i’m not even sure if i need to make a confession. but there’re no reasons to hide as well. my definitions n’ concepts of certain subjects are the root of this realization. n’ the central subject referred to here is love..... the love i thought i always possessed or possess for a special one. i mean if i make a objective approach although i know i must not be allowed to do so as i’m dealin’ with a real subjective issue. but for once i want to break this little rule.

point one. i always wanted to be sure if the other person loved me n’ once i get hold of that feelin’.... nothin’ much bothered me as in if she’s stayin’ with me or without me.

point two. never liked the idea of basin’ an entire relationship on sensitive subjects like trust which don’t quite imply that i’m offerin’ a permission to cheat on me. but i generally don’t like to know things that she wants to hide from me n’ still i neither feel insecure nor offended.

point three. seemed to be always in a hurry not knowin’ why. used to have this feelin’ that relationships don’t last forever like everythin’. so all the love must be shown n’ given now without any delays n’ breaks.

point four. never had a problem of backin’ off in “whatever” issues possibly related. could possibly let go someone if she wants to without even askin’ a single why.

point five. no matter how much i love or want to love.... in the end... it is somehow not good enough.

point six. the love i bore is possibly without any compassion. for the love i bore don’t seem to have any consequence but love itself. but it’s probably the only way i know where to walk.

n’ the sublimity of the relationship between these six points although amused me..... the conclusion disturbed me to quite an extent. as all these six points were pointin’ to somethin’.... n’ it took me a while to know what it was. n’ finally i found it. it was the male form a mistress..... where the male keeps objectionable relationship with a woman already committed. i mean this is where all these six points will exactly fit in. n’ although i was never uncomfortable with the idea of love that i had...... but the status of an adulterer? made me depressed....

[+/-] expand/collapse this post...

with no expressions....

2006-05-06T09:28:00.000+05:30

it’s a remarkably strange feelin’ n’ it’s hard for me to explain. i wouldn’t have explained it to anyone even if i could. the apparent loss of the fear of losin’ tends to exhibit a strange kind of charm n’ relief. the sense of relief i often witnessed on the faces of either the wise men or the man with a sorrow. i still don’t know if both men pointed to one man. but still it’s surreal. it’s vague. but it’s understood. you don’t seem to be bothered. n’ the blind look that you give to everyone n’ everythin’. maybe it disturbs the surroundin’ but not you. probably i smile too. a blind n’ non-directin’ smile. i always thought smile to be a vector quantity but this feelin’ is makin’ it so scalar. n’ now the things i do possess... n’ the things i might have possessed..... i don’t want to hold on to them. i probably don’t even want to hold them.

i keep on walkin’ with one finger touchin’ the handrails on the subway..... loosenin’ my bracelet so that it had already crossed my thumb. the fate of the relationship between my bracelet n’ my hand lied completely on gravity..... i don’t seem to be bothered to held the bracelet uptight. i was more preoccupied with these thoughts in my mind n’ was afraid that they might slosh my face in form of an expression. i was still listlessly expressionless.