Must listen...

Lyrics:

Aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hone tak
kaun jeetaa hai tere zulf ke sar hone tak

Aashiqui sabr-talab aur tamannaa betaab
dil kaa kyaa rang karuuN Khuunejigar hone tak

Ham ne maanaa ke taGaaful na karoge lekin
khaak ho jaayenge ham tumko Khabar hone tak


Gham-e-hastii kaa 'Asad' kis se ho juz marg ilaaj
shamm'a har rang men jalatii hai sehar hone tak.


It's just too beautiful to be written about.Revelling in its beauty...

Randomania!

roof, hazy stars, amavasya, phone calls, midnight conversations, mushroom soup, Hyundai Santro, coloured font on Yahoo Messenger, Kurt Cobain, cousins, friends, friends' cousins, accountability, betta, college trip, 30 minutes, complement, colour, black, 3 30am, free messages, ex boyfriends, ex girlfriends, lost times, damsels, immigrant song, black, tired eyes, dirty feet, pedicures, Kriti, laughter, espresso, tears, red noses, awkward dinners, missed out lunches, confused feelings, moving on, goodbyes, trains, late arrivals, sad departures, black jacket, long fingers, no replies, unsaid, half said, fragments, Kannika, lazy conversations, mutual excitements, bad choices, choices, options, admirers, muses, fiction, movies, before sunrise, poetry, art, beauty, life?, being me.

P.S- It's not supposed to make sense to the reader. If it does, it's eerie!

Song of the soul...

In the depth of my soul there is
A wordless song - a song that lives
In the seed of my heart.
It refuses to melt with ink on
Parchment; it engulfs my affection
In a transparent cloak and flows,
But not upon my lips.

How can I sigh it?
I fear it may
Mingle with earthly ether;
To whom shall I sing it? It dwells
In the house of my soul, in fear of
Harsh ears.

When I look into my inner eyes
I see the shadow of its shadow;
When I touch my fingertips
I feel its vibrations.

The deeds of my hands heed its
Presence as a lake must reflect
The glittering stars; my tears
Reveal it, as bright drops of dew
Reveal the secret of a withering rose.

It is a song composed by contemplation,
And published by silence,
And shunned by clamor,
And folded by truth,
And repeated by dreams,
And understood by love,
And hidden by awakening,
And sung by the soul.

It is the song of love;
What Cain or Esau could sing it?

It is more fragrant than jasmine;
What voice could enslave it?

It is heartbound, as a virgin’s secret;
What string could quiver it?

Who dares unite the roar of the sea
And the singing of the nightingale?

Who dares compare the shrieking tempest
To the sigh of an infant?

Who dares speak aloud the words
Intended for the heart to speak?

What human dares sing in voice
The song of God?

- Khalil Gibran

Sensory association.

Sounds like a neurological term, innit?Well, don't worry, I won't bore you more than usual.I'm totally blanked out right now and hence will apologise in advance for any unintended grammatical or factual errors.This idea about writing how I remember things based on smells and sounds occurred to me last evening when I sprayed on my Nike and instantly remembered someone.I took this timepass test on blogthings.com which gave me the result that I appreciate and understand sounds much better than other senses.Smell came in a close second.Ironically I suffer from sinusitis in cold temperatures leaving my nose and ears blocked.Fascinating, I know.Anyway, leaving gooey matters behind, I discovered that the results were quite accurate.I usually tend to associate certain songs to certain people, certain smells to certain periods of my life.It's not that uncommon, I know.But just the idea of how a melody can transport you back in time or how a whiff of a familiar fragrance can cause pangs of lust, pain or nostalgia is so, forgive me for the blunt delivery, so poetic.The thought of an expression of a memory in wordless subtlety is just too beautiful.Inexplicably, the smell of Sunsilk black shampoo transports me to my 10th std. school days, the smell of clinic plus to summer holidays as a kid, the smell of rain always reminds me of him and that trip to Dharwad, the sound of the Santana song 'Smooth' reminds me of this guy I had a crush on(who turned out to be phenomenally dumb by the way) and at present, the song 'Hazaaro khwaishein aisi...' reminds me of this person who is kinda like my current muse :).If the said person is reading this, feel flattered and do not forget to thank me later.Every single day turns out to give me excuses to say "Do you remember...?" or smiling to myself when I'm alone in the remembrances.Oh, by the way, my handwriting slants towards the left(my brother terms my handwriting as the 'most unscientific handwriting he ever lay his eyes upon') which supposedly implies that I live in the past or think about it way too much.I couldn't agree more.
So if you have special sounds, sights or tastes, please go ahead and share.Maybe they'll help me remember you :)

Untitled

One single line has been repeating in my mind over and over again, like a record stuck on a gramophone.What kind of a sick, sadistic bastard is God?I know, I'm not supposed to swear or whatever shit people expect, but I don't think anyone could have escaped this thought if they went through the situation that I did today.I was feeling low the entire morning actually, I don't know the reason(as always!) and I was mentally very exhausted.But then, this happened, which had the potential to move me to tears scarily soon and to push me into extreme rage against this blaring injustice.My cousin, Disha, is ill.As I have mentioned in an earlier post, she has a neurological disorder which allows her no form of normal expression.The details are too harsh to be written about again.She is admitted right now with something undiagnosed, yet.She has a temperature of 103F and has been shivering, chills running through her now skin-and-bones body with a drip attached to her which looks painful.And she can't even tell what she feels.I stood there as my aunt(Disha's mother) had dozed off even as she held Disha's hand to comfort her convulsions.No amount of words can explain the pain as you watch a 13 year old child screaming in agony.And all you can do is just avert your gaze or hold her hand.I was totally choked with emotions as my mind went numb.I hid my face and cried silently.My aunt just held Disha's hand with indifference.Yes, that's indifference for you.When sorrow's boundaries have been transcended and philosophy can go to the crapper for all I care, when a mother holds her child's hand with no feeling expressed on her prematurely old face, believe me, nothing is sadder, nothing puts perspective more into place.People talk about how we have to accept the 'will of God', how religion will redeem us and how we must be thankful for whatever we have.Yes, I have read about it and that was my belief too.But now, as I watched this emotionally indescribable scene enacted by the people dear to me, supposedly scripted and directed by the 'puppet master', all that changed.What fault is so grave that a child this beautiful deserves to be punished for?What is my aunt's fault that she has to witness this mutely?Who decides what?I couldn't bear to stand in the room.The smell of the hospital disinfectant made me nauseous and as angry thoughts swirled in my numb head, I stood outside in the corridor.I watched this couple walking out of another ward.Soundlessly, their hands found each others' and they held them tenderly.It made me smile.The hope and romance that died in me a few minutes ago awakened a tad bit again as I watched them walk towards a God's idol and join their hands in prayer.It made me realise that maybe, maybe we are all moving towards nothingness.The big zero.Mahashunya.Maybe the shit God gives people, the agonies we face is cancelled out with the hope and love around and we come to nought, every single day.I guess it's a Buddhist concept, I've heard of it before.And today's incident made me want to believe in that.
I know that me writing about this in no way relieves Disha's pain or bring back the life in my aunt's empty eyes.But I observe, and write yet again.Pray for Disha's speedy recovery.

10 things you probably didn't know about me.

1)I have an artificial tooth.(Front tooth)

2)I am a huge fan of Dexter's laboratory.

3)I actually loved Dhoom 2 the first time I watched it.(Second day, second show if I'm not wrong.)

4)I am addicted to caffeine.

5)I have a huge crush on Rachel Green(Jennifer Aniston's character) from 'Friends' season 1 and 2.Man, those legs!:P

6)I'm a little bi-curious.(I guess anyone can guess that after the above mentioned point!)

7)I cannot wait to have kids and raise them.

8)My ultimate dream is to direct a movie based on my school days and call it 'Doughnuts of Durga bakery'.

9)My mind is sexier than Angelina Jolie's body.

10)I'm not as selfish and self obsessed as I seem to be.

P.S-If you are reading it and you already know all these points, then you're either Kriti or Kannika.

Adios. 

Happy Deepavali!

Diwali or Deepavali is my favourite festival of the year.I come from a very conservative and traditional Hindu, Brahmin family so festivals are a one too many in my house.Almost every alternate day demands a big lunch and endless vermilion applications.Coconut breakings, garland offerings, aartis, poojas, homas and havanas are a routine thing.But Deepavali, despite following the same scheme of events is very refreshing and different.

 As a kid, it was definitely the best festival because all my cousins came over to my house and we had quite a 'blast'(forgive the pun!).The endless exchange of different versions of the same memory between my aunts, the going out with appa and uncles to buy firecrackers, late night gossip, ajji's laddoos, ajja's stories...it was like an alternate universe.We bought new clothes the previous day despite knowing that the market place would be swarming with last minute buyers.It never occurred to us that we could buy our Diwali stuff in advance.We'd be tired walking around the market and crib about our aching legs till we got sent to bed with stern warnings.The next morning, on Narak Chaturdashi was the aarti.We'd wake up as early as possible, usually around 5 30am, dress up in our brand new clothes, wear bangles(which we hated on the other days of the year) and sit in line with our brothers and uncles for the aarti.Our mothers performed the aarti, sang the same aarti song every year as we hummed along.They'd apply a little oil(a fragrant one.This point too made Diwali an exciting thing for us.) on our hair with a gold ring.Then we'd bow to God and our elders.We'd accept the prasad and then we'd all walk to the nearest Hanuman temple.After visiting the temple, our mothers would oil us and give us a nice, hot bath.The Deepavali lunch was always heavy.Payasa(sweetened porridge), kosambri(salad),chutney,chitranna(lemon rice), my ajji prepared all varieties of delicacies on a coal stove.I can still remember the taste of the lunch just by reminiscing about it.The heavy lunch was followed by ice cream bought from the street hawker.My brother would finish his off quickly and beg for a bite from mine.We'd fight over it, I'd usually end up crying.He did it every year though, just so he could tease me.A siesta ensued after the dessert.Evenings were again dedicated to dressing up(for the girls) and firecrackers(for the guys).We'd block our ears and close our eyes as my brothers lit patakha on patakha(or as we call it, patakshi).In the end, we burst firecrackers too, with our mothers' warnings about fire safety ringing in our ears.This went on till almost 10 in the night after which the younger siblings got to light a special rocket or a special flower pot under the careful supervision of an elder.We'd all be exhilirated with the gorgeous display of colours and fire and go to sleep late in the night, still thinking about the evening.

It's quite different now.My cousins don't come over.They celebrate the festival in their own homes.My brother works in Bangalore, he cannot get off work for too many days.The few days he is here, he spends half his time catching up with old friends.Ajji wasn't in town this year, so amma cooked instead.Amma cooks well too but not in ajji's league.Diwali has been a quiet festival for the past seven years because I banned firecrackers at my place.Just the traditional lighting of the diyas and we're done with the display.Diwali shopping was low key too.I wasn't interested in clothes this year.Yet, the aarti was something I looked forward to, I lit the diyas at twilight and wished for everyone's well being.The chill in the air was the same on Diwali morning as it was ten years ago.The mist that hung was a little smoggier though.I made quite a few bucks.In the end, it was a very normal festival.The charm of it lay in the remembrances this time...

I know two stories that relate to Diwali.One being the return of Lord Rama and Goddess Sita to Ayodhya from Lanka.And the other one tells us how Lord Krishna defeated the demon Narakasura. Whatever may be the reason for celebration, Diwali is by far the most significant and symbolic festival.The whole concept of lighting lamps to symbolise the light engulfing darkness, knowledge winning over ignorance is very enlightening(again, unintended!).I hope people realise, at least by next year, how bad firecrackers are for the environment and do away with them entirely.Wishful thinking na?I don't know why we have to maim nature on every occasion, in the name of God.Anyway, without further digression, my favourite festival of the year went really well.Here's wishing you a very Happy Deepavali.I sincerely hope all the festive greetings come true.Have fun!:)

If you forget me...

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

- By: Pablo Neruda

My ephemeral reverie...

I wake up and I'm still in my dream.It feels like my subconscious is a little relaxed and allows me a little more time in my morning dream.It won't take a genius to guess that it's your afterglow.The hangover, as my friends term it.Your smile is wicked, has anyone ever mentioned that?You smile, like you know my secret, like you've caught my mischief, you smile with ulterior motives.Your smile makes me smile, the sparkle in your eyes searches for the same in my eyes.Everytime I see you, my legs feel weak, I feel the need to sit next to you, your arm around mine, whispering your first name in your ear and blushing at the sweet nothings you say.Is it real?I pinch myself and even though I feel the sting, some part of me knows this is surreal.I'll wake up any minute now, I need to live every moment of this reality masquerading as a dream or is it a dream trying to be real?
I want to thaw at your exterior and reach out to the person you're inside.I want to laugh at your childlike charm and the innocent humour, know the bad things you did, the good things you didn't,your worst nightmare, your sweetest memory, your favourite word, your overwhelming moment.I need to know you for real, even as the very word is fast losing it's meaning in my dreamy mind.
We fit together, perfectly.Not a little gap in our symmetry, no crevice to misguide an intention, no faulty terrain to doubt an expression.I complement you, you complement me.We can be as contradictory as dreams and reality but at one instant, when a dream seems real or as reality transcends the borders of imagination, we are that instant in our sleepy lives.Teach me your heart and learn my thoughts, we've got very little time.I'll wake up any day, any minute now.Prolong my dream, a little further.Hold me in my fantasy transition.My ephemeral reverie, stay with me, let me dream, just a little longer...

Emotional infidelity...

"It's cold tonight,innit?"

"Do you need a jacket?I can run downsairs and grab one."

"Na.It's fine.Sipping wine is warm enough."

"So how was your day?"

"Not great.My son din't get into the school football team.He's been answering me in monosyllables for a week now.And my daughter thinks I hate her."

"Ah.Teenage angst.How old are they anyway?The last time I saw your son,I guess he was 8."

"He is 13 now.My girl is 18.Time slips through like sand,doesn't it?"

"Yeah.I have stopped counting the years I have been trying to..."

"I understand."

"She won't let me not try,you know.She just can't accept it-my helplessness and her failure."

"I hope everything will be fine.I can't imagine how hard it must be for her."

"That's the problem.Everyone knows her story-her longing,her desperation.What about me?Am I just a tool for her happiness,literally and figuratively?It's not that I don't want a kid.I can keep going on if I see even a glimpse of hope.I just can't..."

"Take your time."

"I just can't see the look on her face after every negative result.I see my own inadequency etched on her face.I'm tired..."

"Life sucks huh?Tell me about it!I got a call from a hotel in Ooty last week.They told me that my husband and his 'wife' had left behind a bag in the honeymoon suite."

"Oh.I'm so sorry."

"Don't be.He isn't that dumb you know,to give them his residence number.He wanted me to find out,I guess."

"That makes it worse."

"Just the same.He never cared for me anyway.Atleast he was considerate enough to let me know and save me all the trouble of finding out.Ironic."

"Did you confront him?"

"It isn't necessary.He understood.I'm mellow now.Acceptance looks so easy on the surface doesn't it?"

"Are you going to separate?"

"Would you?"

"That's not my answer."

"I can't tell that thought hasn't crossed my mind.But I can never do that to my kids.They are all I have."

"That's not true."

"I know"

"You do?"

"Isn't that kinda implicit?"

"Thank you for that.She says 'I love you' so many times,the words chain me with moral obligation."

"Don't we all?More often than not obligation is something you din't wish for."

"Isn't that why it becomes an obligation?"

"It does"

"It does"

"There's no moon tonight.Don't you love it that way?"

"Yes.The sky gives me companionship in my darkness."

"What about the stars?"

"There's always something to hold on to"

"I know"

"I'm glad you do"

"What say?Let's drink our troubles away?While your wife awaits her non-virile husband....."

"And your extra virile husband awaits his mistress....."

"Cheers"

"Cheers"

Comfort of a stranger...

I dint think it was possible.It did happen though.The title seems quite fascinating, doesn't it?Well I thought so too.I spoke to someone for quite some time a couple of days ago, happened to get my interest piqued.It felt surreal, other world-ly.People looked at me in a funny way, trying hard to look past my smiling eyes.I dint care, apathy is still one of my strongest points.We spoke about things I always speak about:music, movies, books.It seemed like a really weird viva session I guess, at least to him it did.This would just have been another lame conversation in my mind had it not been for the fact that it made my day.It wasn't phenomenal in any sort of way, it was unsurprisingly mundane.There wasn't a spectacular exchange of ideas.Now that I think about it, he probably got bored.But it doesn't matter because I may not have been important to him, even momentarily, in any way but he seemed like a saviour to me.After an entire week of depression and rising levels of melancholia, the conversation was soothing.Someone to talk to, someone who doesn't know me well yet, I can be a new person every time I make a new friend. I know it seems quite hypocritical of me but it isn't too much to ask for, is it?A little mystery to my already boring personality is quite a welcome change.So I take comfort in the fact that I got out of my 'phase'.It was a nice conversation and I couldn't help smiling at each of his lines.A little peek into his dream and a little opening up was all it took to make me commit to that moment.

As of now, I don't know what's on his mind, if there is anything on his mind regarding this.Maybe he is in a different place, I do not know.But just the charm of the memory, the bus ride, the jokes and the conversations makes me smile and makes me write, yet again...

My yesterday...

It's a pathetic attempt but I thought I had to write it...

I have tried,

And failed, several times,

To plaigiarise,

The working of your mind,

I wish I could have been,

What you always needed,

Instead I was always the second best,

Not quite something you wanted,

It breaks my heart,

When I think of us being apart,

Time heals, they say,

But all I want is a little more of my past,

A chance to do it all again,

One more time, I wish I could say,

What you mean to me, my love,

I wish I could live my yesterday...

I wish I could say something better,

Than the cliches I used,

A little more silence could bring us closer,

Could get you interested, get you seduced,

I want to kiss the tear,

That clings to your eye,

After a sad movie, a great book,

With you, I'd cry,

Let me get lost in your hair,

In the fragrance of the ebony mane,

Let me caress you once more,

And fall in love with you again,

I wish I could turn back time,

Just for once, just for today,

I wish I could win you back,

I wish I could live my yesterday...

And the hardest part...

Is letting go, I know, I know.I think I've officially entered my brand new phase of being low.Yes, it's new and guess what, it hurts too.I read about people who feel lonely in a crowd and that loneliness is a state of mind rather than a physical state of being.Now I know how it feels, the crushing extent of it.I sit here among my friends and try to laugh at their jokes and join in their conversations even as my mind tells me it's not working.Sooner or later, people will look through your facade, they'll know you are trying hard to feel accepted, to accept.Someday, someone will look past my big talk, look through my indifference and discover my innate feeling of being unbelonged.Someone will probably know why I hum 'All by myself' everytime I'm in a group.It is so automatic, it surprises me.

It's really hard to socialise, not quite as easy I imagined it to be.I always thought to myself I can make the transition anytime I want, I can smoothly slide over to the 'I'm friendly' state.But I find it harder, as I try hard to look into someone's eyes and keep a smile for a decent moment, I find it much harder each passing day, each passing minute.

I look through my contacts and think who'd understand me if I were to express what I feel right now.I find people who may listen, who may advise but I don't feel like sharing.I know that talking about it will probably lighten the apparent burden of it but it's hard to explain.I don't want to explain.And yet again, I'm here, writing about this mess in my mind because it's too frustrating to be the only one to talk to.It's liberating, it's my anti-depressant.

I probably make too much of a big deal about what goes on in my mediocre life.But it helps to think you're problems are important even if you aren't quite so...

The third extreme...

I had my share of criticism yesterday from my brother and a teacher of mine.Both of them told me that I wasn't 'to the point'; that my mind was everywhere but where it 'should' be.Firstly, I think I'm the one who decides where my mind actually 'should' be.I think I earned that right by having opaque thoughts.Secondly, now if I think about it, it makes sense why I'm that way. It's gotta do with the creativity. I don't think a creative person can have a myopic mind.I think art, literary or visual, is all about being broad minded, thinking in all possible ways. The permutations and combinations of thoughts are endless.How can anyone explain 'the point' of the Mona lisa?What is 'the point' anyway?The point that she's smiling?Even a smile, human art, cannot be completely to the point.All I can say is that if you're broad minded enough, creative enough(which are relative by the way), you can never be 'to the point', you can never be precise.It doesn't matter if you can't arrive at a conclusion.It's the innate human need of trying to reason out everything.Heck, me writing shows how much I'm trying to reason the criticism!I know it can be exhausting some times when there's no point to a book, or a song, but the beauty of it overshadows reason.It's the thought after all that counts at the end.Atleast to me, it does.There's always a slight percentage of fiction in fact and vice versa.Just as there's always the possibility of unsurity in most of the things!

My platonic lover...

He walked in the room, as always with a disarming non chalance. There was something about him that was so effortless and so easy. I don't know what it was; his smooth, candid conversations with people, friends and strangers alike, or his gait or his silent, comfortable presence around you. He smiled as he saw me and sat across the table. "Good news!" he said. "Please don't tell me you're fired?" I asked. He'd been in a tiff with his boss for the last couple of days. He smiled again." You're wrong.That would have been great news! I am getting married. She said yes!" He could hardly contain the excitement bursting through his incessant smile. "That is news!" I said, not sure what to feel. I hugged him and in an instant our whole lives passed by in front of my eyes...
We'd been great friends in school. We both watched football, both liked the same people and both had pretty much the same ideas.It was a little eerie to know a person who had the exact same thoughts as you did. It was somehow surreal but yet so realistic. The only opinion we did not share was that he was an atheist and I was a believer. We had loads of arguement on that subject and some of them were pretty intense. But we never reached a truce, we just kept offering explanations and disregarding each other. In a way, those arguements helped me grow spiritually because I found myself discovering reasons why I chose to believe. He helped me through rough patches, we fought like siblings, I advised him a plenty and we reached a stage of a friendship where words weren't necessary. But then she happened...
She was a mutual friend. She was pretty and sweet and always ready to lend a helping hand. But she was silly. And most times just plain dumb. Some people found it endearing. I did too. I thought it was in a way, cute. A kind of mistaken, misunderstood innocence. She was one of my closest friends and she was equally close to him as well. But then, one day, out of the blue, he confessed to me that he liked her a lot. I was initially shocked but then I was happy for them. She was a nice person and he was a great guy. They'd obviously make a wonderful relationship. They did in fact. But then as time passed, we lost touch. She was important to him. I understood that completely. But I also missed the intelligent conversations we had, the endless bickering about religion and God. Our silence became uncomfortable. He was completely blinded in the relationship they shared. He always agreed to whatever she had to say, whatever she did went unquestioned. It was quite a fall from grace for me personally. I moved on. I made new friends, had interesting conversations with others too. But somehow, nobody could fit the frame I had in mind except him. I missed him above everything. And I wondered if he did too.We met a few times and all we mostly did was talk about work. A few weeks ago he told me he was going to propose. I was happy and yet a little apprehensive. I din't see a future for them and it was scary to admit it. I just hoped for the best and wished him good luck.
"Hey, aren't you happy?" he asked, his spirits dampening a little with my unenthuisiastic response.
"What? Of course I am! You guys are my closest friends!" I smiled, getting my hopes up.
"That doesn't sound like you. I gave you one piece of advice over all these years and that was to be yourself and speak your mind. I can make out you aren't doing that right now." he said as he sat down again and sipped his coffee.
"Well, what can I say? You caught me! No offence, but I just din't see a future for you guys. I thought you'd get over her."
" But I love her. I thought you knew that."
"I did. I just din't see it."
"Everything need not have a reason my dear. Some things are beyond our arguements."
"Our arguements! Funny you should bring that up, I was just thinking about them."
"Yeah? I think about them all the time too. I miss them."
"Me too. But situations change. What can I say?"
"People change. I know I did. And I admire you for the fact that you din't"
"Thank you"
"Don't get all formal with me! The next thing I know, you'll start saying 'hi' and 'bye'!"
"Haha, don't worry about that. Some things never do change"
"I know"
"Me too"
"Did you know that I had a huge crush on you then?"
"I did. You kinda made it obvious."
"Did I? You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you and let you know. But I din't wanna ruin what we already had. So I never did tell you that"
"Well, I liked you then too. But things turn out the way they are for the best. Some one else also controls our lives besides ourselves.I know you'll laugh at my face but I totally belive in that."
"I never told you this and never wanted to because that'll mean you won. But since we are revealing things unknown, I'll just tell you."
"What can be so important?"
"You turned me into a believer. Something several people have tried for several years.But you succeeded and I'll love you and hate you for that!"
"This is wonderful information!Wow, I actually managed to influence another person's life. I should give myself much more credit than I do right now"
"You should.You deserve it.How's the boyfriend?"
"Still craving for committment. Few more days and he'll have withdrawal symptoms"
"You should settle down you know"
"And you should leave the advice section to me!"
"Ok, as you wish. Now that I am engaged, I have officially achieved a new high!"
"You know what I'd like? Prove me wrong about the two of you."
"I'll strive towards that end every single day, sweet!"
"I'd like that"
"Let's celebrate now. Wanna smoke?"
"I quit"
"Wanna share?"
"Ok"

I believe...

This time, just this one time, maybe, in a faraway, less cynical corner of my mind, I believe that if I run for you, maybe I can run back in time...


Its past midnight and I cannot sleep yet.I don't know what describes me at this instant.I watched something which somehow touched me really deep.It made me think about you.Of course, you are mostly always on my mind, though not well defined.You're like a blurred image, almost one with the background, an intimate part of it, like a coffee cup on a coffee table, merged into the oneness of a being in my mind's imagination, but yet you stand out.Its funny if I think of it because when I see a picture, I try to comprehend the outline of it, the sharpness of it that limits what I'm looking at.But now, you're there and still somehow not.A ghost of a memory, wanting to be either forgotten or revived.You are that wound on my hand which has healed now, but the scar of it remains.When the wound was fresh, all I could think about was the wound.But time took care of it, as the cliche goes.How I hate time!Of course, I cant hate time.I will reform the sentence and say I hate the present.I have absolutely no issues with the past.It has treated me well.I do not regret saying the things I said or doing what I did or did not do.I keep trying to live it again, trying to inflict the wound again, but the ghost silently comforts me with the truth that its already done with.You can neither change it nor live it again.The future beckons me forward, the uncertain, the unforeseen, anything can happen, you may come back.It holds a store of possibilities, of hope, tomorrow is another day after all.It gives me the illusion, where I can pretend I'm better off, I can dream, I can create.I can believe...

Don't you sometimes think knowing is way better than believing?I do too.Its just that, magically, sometimes, what you believe in truly, becomes what you know.Illusion, where I see myself smiling in the future, I construct this make-believe world of mine, yes, I'm going to be happy, I can be happy.It wont hurt me later if it doesn't turn out to be true.Then, I can look back at it and not regret the illusion.Its just the present that kills me, oh so softly!Oh yes, tomorrow the present that killed me will be my unregretted past.I have a choice, everyone always has a choice.I choose to believe...

I choose to believe and thats why right now, I want to believe that I'll run to you, with all the faith I can think of, in myself, in you, in us, in that space between us that shrinks with every step I run, I will run.I will run, whether you stand there with open arms or not stand there at all, I will still run. I will still believe, that at some instant I will relive the past, I will still believe I can hold your hand the way I held it then, with the wound so fresh, I will still believe you'll laugh at my silly jokes and push my hair behind my ear, I will still believe you'll look at me when I look away, scared, anticipating, hesitant, in the moment, the present, now my past.I will still believe that this can be true.I believe I can realise my futuristic illusion, happy, satisfied, knowing and still in the dream, trying to believe that life didn't get to us after all...

Oh aaj mausammm.........

It is such a bad title.But the weather(yesterday actually, contradicting the title) was beautiful. It was warm and I dont know, somehow surreal. Of course my math exam did not allow me the simple pleasure of enjoying the nature I love right away.Sigh.What can I say except I so hate math!!!!Anyhoo, instead of wasting my energy and time which is by the way running out and I have fucking seven chapters to study for my physics exam tomorrow, I will tell you what was special about the weather yesterday.It was the 'coming back home' weather!I realised yesterday that everytime I go someplace else, I mean outta town, when I return, thats how the weather always is.Even if its May and frigging hot, its the same when I return.It makes me feel home.Even though I hate Hubli to its very core and cannot wait to get out of this hell hole, this weather is something so intrinsic about Hubli that it lures me into being happy. And mind you, me being happy is an elusive dream(If you are in doubt, ask my parents!). Its like a butterfly, you know.You think its got pretty wings and you go and try to catch it, somehow trap it, but it always finds a loophole.And once you do catch it, its beautiful wings are the ones that get hurt first.See what I am saying?Anyway, this weather is now officially the 'coming back home' weather. And as I was riding(the fine text reads: On my shiny black Honda Activa with the spring air in my gorgeous hair.God that rhymes!I must be a born poet!) on this road, without a pothole in sight(such a RARE treat in Hubli), with Gulmohar trees on both sides of the road, the smell of the 'coming home weather' making me forget all about the fearful prospect of solving differential equations.Its special and its rare and its beautiful.

Pleh!

Okpa!Its official.I have the most unproductive life .Seriously.I consumed like a zillion calories today.And watched That 70s show all day long!I mean I'm like extra ___ pounds on earth (You think I'll tell the world how much I weigh?Doubt mat rakhna!) Well anyway, blah blah, read this:

1)This song called 'Hello it's me' by Todd Rundgren is out of the world. It seemed more delightful when it was playing in the Vista Cruiser as Eric and Donna kissed for the first time.Sigh.What a wonderful life!

2) Read this. Its pure, imported turd of course. But its freaking funny!

3)I watched 'Requiem for a dream' last night.It is deeply disturbing.I could totally relate to the charater of Sara Goldfarb.Its no joke, being fat.

4)I have exams in a week and I am not one bit tensed or prepared. But I know I'll sail through. With an 8.5 pointer.You'll see.

5)My future looks so bleak now.I have no idea what I want in life and what to expect.All I know is I have to see Kashmir before I die.And also go on an African safari with Dad. Also kiss Ashton Kutcher.Ok now I'm delusional. I guess its all the butterscotch ice cream.Hmmm.....I'll have some more.

6)I am so high right now!

7)I have a new addiction to cola.I thought it was only the Americans and some west influenced youth who craved for Pepsi but now I'm addicted too.Even though I think that Pepsi ads are some of the corniest ads ever made and should be banned for the sole reason of being a huge taint on the consumer intelligence.

8)I so wanna be un-single!!

9)I love Coldplay.

10)I have no more problem with attendance.Whooppie!

P.S-I know you don't care, but guess what?Neither do I!

Honestly.....

I think of you now,
As the moonlight falls on my wide awake eyes,
Is it 3am already?
I wonder what you are doing,
Lying awake looking at the moon too?
Or does that happen only in the movies?
You must probably be sleeping,
Dreaming, about a better world,
Yeah I know, a better world with her.......

As I struggle to escape reality,
And fall into a bottomless sky,
To land in a fantasy,
Where I wake up next to you,
Looking into your thoughts, I wish,
I could erase her subconscious presence,
Selfishness would you call it?
I call it love, in the only understandable way.......

I look at you now, sitting across me,
Humming a random song,
Your eyes lighting up at an anecdote,
You've been wanting to share with her,
She'll laugh I know, you're funny,
I'll treasure your look at that laugh,
The chuckle at the end of it all.........

I think you look great today,
Maybe I'll let you know,
But God!Are all the lines in this world
Used already?
Dreamy, thats what I am,
And you, in all your glory,
Contradict me,
I'll give up all my dreams,
For a moment of reality,
With you.......

I feel the tingle,
As you casually touch my arm,
And I think to myself,
What a waste!
Nothing grieves more deeply or pathetically
Than one half of a great love
That isn't meant to be......
One of Karla's lines. Or was it Didier?
I smile.
You ask me "What?"
I say "Nothing at all....."


If I could just tell you,
What I can write about you,
If you'd feel the same,
As I feel now,
Words would make more sense,
Words wouldn't be necessary at all.......

I quote.....

"Life's like an hourglass glued to the table........"

Sigh.Wish I could say it was mine.Its from a song called 'Breathe' by Anna Nalick.Lovely song.I tried to put up the video but I'm just plain dumb.So here's the link.Listen to it.

Meh!

I'm in knee deep *ahem*.I have an attendance shortage!If you have been reading my blog regularly, you'll know its nothing new.Except this time it's for real.I am so screwed.Just hoping and praying that they don't make me attend short semester.You know 'they'.As in 'Oh my God!They killed Kenny!You bastards!'.I love that show!(For those of you who have no clue what Im talking about, here).Anyhoo, I got nothing important to write about today(brain says "Yeah!Like you got something important to write on other days!").This is a list of random thoughts and events happening in my life for the past week.I have been down mostly but I think its just a progressively getting worse PMS.Without further excuses for being just plain lazy, here it is:

1)I watched 'Main, Meri patni or Woh' again some day.Everytime I watch it, I think to myself "I've gotta write about this!"So finally decided to do that.It is a delightful movie.Its so grounded and real yet whimsical and dreamy.Anyone who doesnt come under the banner of physically attractive can relate to it.I dont and I do.Its insecurity meets a secret wish.Go watch it.Karan Johar can learn a thing or two about love from this.And of course, the biggest plus point of this movie is Kay Kay Menon looking incredibly breath taking and sexy with a seductive non chalance singing a ghazal with a glass of whisky in his hand.Lucky glass of whisky!Rituparno is gorgeous.She has this tiny bump on the tip of her nose which looks as if a tear is eternally clinging to her nose.Rajpal Yadav is a fine actor.Period.Its a rare beauty.Do watch it.

2) "I was just guessing at numbers and figures, Pulling the puzzles apart, Questions of science, science and progress, Do not speak as loud as my heart...... Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me, Oh I wanna rush to the start, Running in circles, chasing our tails, Coming back as we are..........."

Havent you guessed it already?Its 'The scientist', stupid!This song used to put me to sleep sometime ago and I couldnt possibly imagine how this song was popular.But now as I listen to it twenty three hundred times a day on repeat, I cannot help but love it.It flows on you.Seriously, this song is smooth, man!And the lyrics are so lovely.Great song to hum too.

3)I havent slept properly for a week.I mean I do sleep, for like 8-9 hours a day but its such an unsatisfying sleep.I dont feel charged up as I usually, in minuscule amounts, do.All night I stare outside the window and I realised that the moonlight is extra beautiful nowadays.I dont appreciate it much considering Im almost suicidal that I am turning into an insomniac.But the moonlight, ah, it takes your mind away. Far away on the silvery, hazy path to dreamland.I miss dreams.I miss sleep more of course.But life seems so unfulfilling without a little bit of fantasy.Sigh.Hoping for sleep tonight and getting lost in Chad Michael Murray's arms........

4)I love Ashton Kutcher.He is just so cute!Even in That 70s show, where he is superhumanly dumb, he is so awesomely good looking.I have an overdose of Ashton now, what with That 70s show and The butterfly effect and A lot like love and Just married.And I do not need rehab baby!I can live off him for a year!(I have no idea whats that supposed to mean!)

5)I absolutely love Amy Winehouse's voice.Its so sincere and deep and inexplicably nostalgic.Also Chris Martin is so soothing.Its like a balm to loneliness and depression, his voice.Even Bono's voice is like in a league of its own.Especially in 'With or without you'.



Ok I'm done.I can rack my brain and find some more.But I'm bored and Kelso looks irresistable in a cop's uniform.So Im gonna get going.Cya soon with something intelligible hopefully!

Lonely tonight.....

It has been a long time, I know,
And it seems almost welcome,
But now as it creeps in sight,
I cannot help but feel,
I have never felt as lonely
As I feel tonight.

Melancholy has always been a chapter most read,
And its battered pages dont seem to turn,
As I hug myself to sleep tight,
I cannot help but feel,
I have never felt as lonely
As I feel tonight.

It doesnt seem so hard on me anymore,
Feels like yesterday and predicts my tomorrow,
And as it defeats me, yet again, in an already conceded fight,
I cannot help but feel,
I have never felt as lonely
As I feel tonight.

It drifts around me with a hazy finality,
And makes its way in my dreams,
And as darkness slowly engulfs the light,
I cannot help but feel,
I have never felt as lonely
As I feel tonight.

As Elvis sings 'Love me tender',
And the moon's incandescence bathes the sky,
Asking me 'Has it ever felt right?'
I cannot help but feel,
I have never felt as lonely
As I feel tonight.

I remember you vividly,
You reminded me of me,
And life's shortcomings seemed finite
I have never felt as lonely,
As I feel tonight....

The Feeling.........

I just want to write something.You know, the feeling when you just, inexplicably have to/want to eat hot chocolate brownies? You dont know the feeling?? *horror*Explains why I put on weight faster than.......um......want to come up with a good simile but my groggy brain refuses to work! I can almost hear it say "I'm trying my lord(the minute influence of 72 hours of reading Harry Potter and nothing else) but it just wont come up with a thought. No, please dont hurt me with studying again!No!Have mercy, lord!" Anyway, atleast my brain is sharp enough to now tell me I'm taking it too far.Too far.So anyway, I thought about what I could write. I first thought I could write about a list of blah-blah.Like things that make me angry, things that make me want to kill myself!But then I thought "But oh dear, no one cares!And I mean it in the sweetest possible way, no one gives a shit!" Well, then I got this idea about writing something thats been missing in my life for a long time, you could say its practically died inside me.I now write about the Feeling.

You know?The Feeling!With the capital 'F'.I will of course elucidate or enunciate, whatever the technical word is for being more descreptively detailed. I usually associate the Feeling with a crush. A brand new one. Oh the endless looking at him wondering if he is doing the same, the smiling to oneself while listening to a particualrly sweet line in a Bryan Adams' song(For instance 'Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you'.Seriously who can beat that?). I always crave for this Feeling. It gives an immense sense of well being. The soothing comfort of believing rather than knowing that nothing can go wrong. All the hidden smiles and guitly, surreal pleasures heighten the feeling of the Feeling. It can be anything, not just the new-crush-feeling. It can be joining the gym(happening right now, thank you thank you!) or getting the job you love, helping someone without expectations, anything that gives the exhilirating feeling like you've just swallowed a flask full of Felix Felicis(Sorry!Harry Potter reigns my mind at the present!For the Potter-ignorant, firstly you guys are missing out a LOT by not reading the series and secondly Felix Felicis is a lucky potion which makes the drinker lucky and super confident for the next 12 hours). You can call it the high. But it helps so much. The Feeling. Ah! I crave you!

P.S- I know I have done no justice to the title and half of you dont even get what Im talking about but I do not care.My blog, my ideas.Take em or chuck em.No!I dint mean that.Please read my blog!I seriously want a life and the comments are the only thing keeping me alive.Kidding but they are partly.So anyway, I actually did a lotta mending to my life lately.Got everything under control and have never been this happy!So I started writing again and have thought of many things and will post them soon enough.This kicks ass, dont it?I think Im high.Not with Feeling.Just high on chocolate!Before I forget, I came up with two lines which are bloody good and you're not permitted to use them.If you do, please dont fail to mention "Oh yeah I read this line in this awesome blog right!That girl sure is great!" Yes, I would like that very much and you can wait for your share of good karma once you do the said asked.(Cool!)Oh before I forget, the lines are(drumroll):
1)My love life is more depressing than Haiti's economy.
2)Euphemism is a euphemism for hypocrisy.

Cya in a jiffy!Once the writing machine whirrs to life, you cant stop her(although you can with a little Harry Potter and a lot of dairy milk!)Cheers!

Broken but repairable

Life isn't life if its not an overslept, underachieved mess.
-Shruti Sardeshpande.

Something in me broke today.Or I prefer the word, snapped.Yes, snapped like a cinnamon stick.I think it was my spirit.Spirit.Or in college talk, the happy-go-lucky charm I had that people envied.Snap!

Monday was the last day for submission of assignments.The lecturers set a bunch of questions, very predictable and expected ones and we're supposed to write down the answers in an ordered manner and submit them before/on deadline.I had five assignments to complete and a month long time to do so.I did not/could not submit a single one on Monday.And that's what broke my heart.Or if you remember the mediocre, previous lines, snapped my spirit.

Normally, this does not/would not have bothered me.I, to be very crude and yet honest, don't give a fuck anymore about marks and evaluation.So I would have probably worried for sometime, making up arbit(blame you Kriti!) excuses to explain the late submission or most likely be of the take-em-or-leave-em mentality.But this situation of mine took the life out of me.How can I be so anarchical?There is absolutely no order in my life.I follow a routine just because my college follows one.My life is as indisciplined as the parthenium growing in the field which overlooks my locality.Its absolute piss, the way I live.I was never this irresponsible.I turned out to be that way and if I think about it real hard I realise that the turning-out thingy wasn't quantised.It was like an evolutionary process and gradually, I started this vicious cycle of cutting classes, making up excuses, being happy with a math score of 50% and fell into this pit of my overused writing capability of almost every mundanity in my life that can extend to a page and an intense disregard for rules and responsibilities.I can probably wade right now but I believe the damage is done.

Its going to be a lot more difficult when I'll start working because obviously my employers won't buy the* looking down on the ground* I-wasn't-well-sir excuse for crossing a deadline.I'll be straightaway fired!Without references to say the least.

A few days ago, I was in love with the word 'procrastination' and I diligently acted accordingly(how ironic!).All the lethargy and last-time-I-swear were frowned upon but passed along as the student life vagaries.And now I'm shifted 180 degrees(or 270 if I began at 90!) and I have lost every ounce of control and purpose in life.I'm in some techni-coloured motion picture but it ain't glossy, cinematography neat.Its some sordid, fluidy, scrubby mass and I'm just surviving here, disoriented to the maximum and as directionless as a paper signboard in Thar!(or some other windy place).The sense of control I used to derive from the ultimate, second to none joy of riding my black Honda Activa was all ruined today as I narrowly escaped banging into a motorist.And in that racing hearted, adrenaline scented, profane moment, the ride was my life or life was my ride, both pretty much the same, I had an epiphany of how wrong the ride was and how meaningless my life is turning out to be.Of course, there are supposedly bigger truths(plural?) to think about but(to quote Rhett in the most inappropriately shameless manner) 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!'I finally know my problem and can work towards a solution and somehow today with all its mundane cheerlessness and commonplace stink, may very well have shaped the course of my future.So I've made a vow to myself(which otherwise I would not have kept up but as this is an emotionally and what I'd like to believe an intellectually charged moment)I shall not write until I rejuvenate my broken but not shattered spirit.As much as I love to write and have every reason to believe I live to do so too, I will find my purpose and work my way up to the highest position of my self evaluated pedestal.Once I'm there, I can look down or rather back at my past and ridicule it and feel a million times wiser and/or better.I will be a better person and a sincere one and will then probably deserve the pen with which I write and the paper on which I write.Till then, I'm lying low with the writing.So long then.It might take a lot of time.............

Then she asked me:"When do you know you've overdone it?"
And I replied:"When you italicise something as stupid as this!"

Scarlet fever.

I had a fever last night.After a long time.I mean, I don't keep falling ill at the drop of a hat but once in few months is considered normal.Even healthy.I hadn't had a fever(like with temperature and all) for a long time.I have had sinus problems.The hacking, wheezing cough, the runny nose and the face-paining headaches.Fever was something so forgotten, it seemed new this time.

I don't what it is about fever that makes me think about the word 'rosy'.The rose tinted windows near the roof letting in the now red sunlight at churches, the colour, the heat associated with the colour, some colour of a rash, a blush.Just rosy.And it was rosy this time too.First the heat, inside the body, the heat outside the body; no strength to even lift up your hand to take Vicks from the other side of the bed, no strength left to even turn on the other side.And then suddenly it all changes.Its 2 am and you feel like you have been wrapped in layers and layers of wool.Someone is holding you down and smothering you with so many clothes you can't breathe.You keep pushing the invisible layers off you and they just keep growing.And there are dark shapes all around you, with many more blankets and many more layers to cover you.And I woke with a start, my top wet with sweat.I had been sweating like crazy because the fever was getting reduced.And the minimal strength I had is wasted in throwing the blanket and the extra pillows away.And the panting for breath doesn't stop.Even if all I have done is sleep.

Have you had times when thoughts hurt?I had it last night, as I was sweating and heating up again, my head hurt because there were too many thoughts and somehow I couldn't make it stop.They just kept swirling in and out, random and stupid and unnecessary but present in my head all the same, hurting so bad, I buried my head under the pillow till sleep, the painful, welcome sleep crept in to hush the thoughts and awaken the dreams.

Its 3 am now and the breathing is better.So is the air supply to my skin.And the nightmares are reduced as my mother is sitting next to me now, stroking my wet hair and feeling my forehead again.My parched lips feel stuck together.Mum gives me water but it tastes bitter in my mouth.And the fever is back now.I'm feeling hotter and rosier.And somehow I always associate a fever with some kind of a sexual build up inside me that lets itself out in the form of heat.My dreams are a mixture of some kind of nightmares where I'm running towards some place and there are instructions written, there are directions and signboards and maps but I can't find my way.I have had the getting-lost-despite-all-the-resources-dreams when I have a fever since I was a little girl.I'd scream for help, to lead me to the place I want to go and I'd wake up to see my parents pacifying me.Its always been the same dreams.And I always associate these dreams with fever.

Its all rosy again.Not so hot anymore though.Maybe its coming down....

Faith

For the first time, since I have started writing seriously(I mean, you can't consider the poems I wrote on 'Tree' and 'Bird', can you?), I have named a write-up exactly what its based on.Well for a moment you(the highly esteemed reader!) might think this might be a religious post.Or atleast a spiritual one.Its not.Its just faith.About it.As simple as the title.

I watched a program on Animal Planet the other day called 'Extraordinary Pets USA'.There was an interview of this guy, who owns two Bengal tigers.One is a cub, whom he bathes and feeds and lets it bite him and keeps hugging it affectionately.The other is a full grown one, a tigress in all its glory.And he was completely at ease with them!He keeps the tigress in a big, caged ground in the backyard and he enters it from time to time to feed the gorgeous chica.And when he does, he goes empty handed.No weapon, no form of protection whatsoever.You can say he is a romantic fool because tigers are by nature wild and can attack anytime even if they are non-agressive.But the fact remains that what he does is tremendously admirable.He just goes in, all by himself, and lies next to her, stroking her brilliant fur.She raises a paw and he doesnt even whimper.He knows its harmless and she will probably rest it on his back.And she does.

What I found interesting in all this is that many people would consider this an act of bravery.They'd see this and say "Wow, man!That guy's got guts!".But I beg to differ.It doesnt take guts to do it.I mean it does, considering the 600 kilos tigress can kill him as easy we kill a bug.But it takes a lotta faith to do what he does with so much ease.I cannot for sure say faith in what.Tigress in all probability.But if he's a person with broader perspectives and I have a feeling he is, its a blind faith in nature.The truest of all beliefs and faiths.Mother Nature is the only one who allows you to commit the mistake, forgives you whole heartedly and provides a chance for redemption.Pity it goes wildly discredited more than unrecognised. Sorry, I digress.(Killer man!I have always wanted to say that!Sorry, I digress.Cool!).I believe that he has so much faith in nature, her peace loving ways and her generosity that he knows for sure that he will not be harmed if he means no harm.That explains why he is alive and kicking, still taking care of the tigers and still loving what he does.There must be an instant when he enters the cage and looks at the huge pupil of the tigress dilate and skips a beat wondering 'What if...?'But a little whiff of breeze and he knows nothing can go wrong.And he kisses her mane and falls in love with Mother Nature as countless others dreamers do, much like me, all over again.

I have got to contradict myself and go against what I said at the beginning of the post.This brings me to a point where I watch hordes of 'devotees' crowd at temples, kick and hurt each other to catch a glimpse of stone or metal and feel satisfied.The mediocrity of it all never fails to amaze me.I am not saying that people should not have faith in religion or whatever it is.Maybe most part of it is ignorance.Or the Indian weakness of getting influenced very soon.But somehow their will and indifference to never question the existence of an all knowing, all powerful God when the proof, product and the future of life nurtures and dies right in front of them surprises me to say the least.

Celebrate women, celebrate Mary......

Please don't get me wrong.This post is in no way affliated to Dan Brown, The Da Vinci code or any other grail enthusiasts/fanatics.Its about a woman called Mary, whom I have known personally over the last two years.I cannot say I know her very well or we have bonded.But I do have little knowledge about the fragments of her sad life

I have a cousin called Disha.She has a progressive or rather a regressive neurological disorder.As we grow up, we become more independent, gain knowledge and express what we feel.It was the exact opposite with Disha.As she grew up, she lost the ability to walk, talk and even sit up straight.She is now eleven years old, has undergone many painful tests without a whimper and still her condition has not been diagnosed correctly.She was a bright, cute and healthy kid until she was three. And it all changed, slowly yet painfully.She has excessive salivation and she has to be changed atleast three times a day.She cannot tell when she wants to go to the toilet.So she ends up soiling her pants.She cannot eat by herself, so she has to be fed.She can only be fed fluids and semi-solid food because she doesn't know how to chew.The plump, naughty Disha I knew is now trapped in a chair, stares into space, points at invisible things, has strong convulsions or 'attacks' where she ends up stiff and scared like a frightened animal.Even as I write it now, my eyes moisten.I hardly see her, maybe once or twice a month.Her mother(my aunt) has to see her in that state every, single day; the apple of her eye, her first-born child being a vegetable, praying for a miracle, hoping for a magic cure and ending up feeling sorry for herself and her daughter.My family thought it was best for my aunt to resume working, so that she will have something to look forward to and not end up feeling low all the time.So she decided to go back to work and employed a nurse to take care of Disha in her absence.That nurse is Mary.

I met Mary for the first time at my house.I saw this quiet, shy, demure woman, all smiles.She treats Disha like her own child.I have never seen in her eyes, even a momentary hint of hesitation in cleaning up Disha.She is everything my aunt ever wanted in a nurse.She even takes care of Shashank(Disha's younger brother) who is this naughty, sweet kid.She takes his lunch to school, picks him up everyday and grins everytime he calls her 'Mary aunty'.

I found out from my aunt that Mary's husband was an alcoholic, an auto-rickshaw driver who hardly brought enough money home.He died a few years ago under mysterious circumstances(my aunt thinks he probably had AIDS).Mary was left to support her two children and her alcoholic father.She took up nursing and came into my aunt's life as a blessing.Some days ago,I found out she hadn't come to take care of Disha.She had missed several times the last few weeks and my aunt, worried, asked her what was wrong.Mary complained of fever and a severe cough from a long time.My aunt insisted that she visit a good doctor and get a few tests done.It turns out she has tuberculosis.And a cyst on her heart.I have never seen my aunt cry so grievously before.She kept saying over and over again,"Why her?"

This is Mary.She is the emotional support for my aunt and her family.She is like a member of our family.She is so fragile and delicate that you'll never know the battles waging beneath her beautiful, ebony skin.She has financial problems, emotional problems and now health problems too.But never have I seen her grimace or get angry.She is always smiling and helping and spreading the joy.She is on medication now.I just hope she gets better soon.

This Women's day(I don't believe in a special day for women because it goes against all the equality principles we talk about.Do men need a special day for thanking us for giving them birth, feeding them their first meal, nurturing them, taking care of them and supporting them?No!They should bloody do it for the rest of their lives!), I thought to myself:We talk about women entrepreneurs, sportswomen, actresses (oops!Female actors!) and the other womenfolk I do not feel connected to in any way.Just give a thought about this woman I told you about.An unsung hero.A warrior in every sense.This Women's day, for a moment, forget about Indra Nooyi's Pepsico or Barkha Dutt's anchoring skills.For a minute, forget about Priety Zinta, Shakira and Sunita Williams.For a minute, just a single moment, say a little prayer for Mary.I know for a fact that if you pray for something whole-heartedly, it works.Irrespective of your class, religion or sex, whoever is reading this, say a heartfelt prayer for this woman. Celebrate her spirit and her will to move on.A woman's request to all you people. Pray for Mary.

An evening in Dharwad....

We went to Dharwad last evening.We includes me,Ma,Pa,bro and Shashank.The immediate destination was a book exhibition on KCD grounds.We parked the car outside and walked on the red carpet(!) leading to the numerous stalls.I stepped inside the makeshift gate and I swear, the air ws different.Nothing else matters around when you enter the realm of undiscovered books. The excitement of a new book waiting to be opened is not only infectious(even my parents were enthralled!),it is highly exhilirating.I scanned through books on myriad topics, in a trance-like state, caring not whose foot I tread on.All I could see was books.Now isn't that a lovely way to spend an evening?Just the feel of new pages, the smell of a new book gets me all cheerful!My mum had a hard time searching for me in each and every stall.Once she'd see me flipping pages on feminism and the next instant I'd be contemplating to buy a book on and called 'Clairvoyance'.I discovered a bunch of new Indian authors.I ended up buying two books-'The best of Khalil Gibran' and 'Contemporary Indian short stories'.Shashank bought a Sherlock Holmes and innocently asked me later "Is Sherlock a girl or a boy?"Oh!He's so darn cute!

As yesterday happened to be Shivaratri, Mum suggested we go to Someshwara temple which houses Lord Shiva.So we picked up my bro(who did not accompany us to the book exhibition as he had to catch up with an old friend) from SDM engg college(which looked inviting, but there was no time!).We headed towards the temple and found out that there was no power supply.It suited me.

I don't know what it is about twilight.Or in particular, yesterday's. Is it the picturesque silhoutte of thorny, short trees or the gradual descension of another day?Probably it was more captivating with the accompaniment of my father's mellow nostalgia as he remembered his parents and his childhood, the adolescent games with his brothers.But there was something about that twilight that I'll remember for years to come.I never really bothered the queue for the darshan and the subsequent uninspiring act.I've always been a pagan since the time I could remember.I don't believe that any carved stone can demand as much respect as Mother Nature can with a single whiff of orchid-scented breeze.I had things to pray for and things to feel grateful about.I did.But it was a one-on-one with God.I mean, just imagine how busy God must be in temples.Its a long line of devotees all murmuring some random prayer and God going "Just a sec darling, yes sir!What were you asking?Wait for your turn Ma'm.Let the man who wants the promotion finish first!"See!I din't want to add to God's busy listening schedule.So I whispered a quiet 'Thank you' and went about taking the beauty of the twilight in.On the way out, I saw three kids selling these flowers.I don't know what those flowers are called.They are white and have a yellow centre.Anyway, I absolutely love these flowers, their feel, their fragrance, everything about them.So I bought a couple of them, after overpaying the three kids as they smiled at me with broken teeth.I watched this young girl, about nine years old, handing me the flowers on a wilted, broad leaf.I couldn't help but wonder.Does she have dreams too?Does she dream of security, love and contentment?I couldn't decipher the smile she flashed as I accepted the flowers.It was a knowing smile, a sad one and a contented one at the same time.It was something that took my attention off the twilight too.

We left for Hubli and reached home at around 9.It was a nice trip altogether, though you can hardly call it a trip.After all, Dharwad is just about 20kms away!But it had been long since I had had a good time with my family, without Mum's nagging and Dad's constant worries.Bro was his usual, annoying self but everything was in good spirit and I had a smile on my face as I recollected the books, the twilight, the nostalgia, the girl's smile and the scent of the flowers as they rested on the table.

10 things I realised about myself today....

1) I like to read posts which are in points.(Practise and preach!)

2)My eyes look chink-like despite adequate sleep.

3)I like people who use 'yours truly' when referring to themselves.(in writing of course!)

4)I do not like(subtly put) people who use incorrect weak forms or rather don't know how to spell weak forms.To quote one: your instead of you're.It is not only restricted to weak forms.It also extends to words like: their and there and also lose and loose.Grrrr.

5)My mood usually depends on how windy the weather is.Directly proportional(windier the better!).And the constant is my mother's mood(which is not universal.It depends on others' moods.Sigh.It keeps growing!)

6)I have started five books and abandoned them midway, despite them being highly interesting.

Sub-list of unfinished books:
a) Little women
b) Shantaram
c) The picture of Dorian Gray
d) Catch-22
e) One flew over the cuckoo's nest.

I realised that if I want to read them, I have to start all over again and I bull crap you not, its scary.

7)I'm always on the verge of an emotional outburst(anger, joy, sorrow, mostly murderous rage!) irrespective of PMS.

8)I blame all my emotional outbursts on PMS.

9)I so wish I could sing well.Each time I have earphones singing in me and me singing out loud, I ruin the song for everyone who hasn't heard the song.And also everyone who already has.And who like the song too.Oh how I wish I could croon!

10)I'll make a habit of realising ten things about myself and/or the people around me.And of course share it, with the now suspecting reader!

P.S-I have no problem with attendance no more!Whoppie!

Hold on!

I don't know why I'm feeling low today.Its probably because I'm tensed(attendance!) or because I'm feeling left out again.I'm surrounded, at least for twelve hours a day, by people I love , people who love me.But the inexplicability of this loneliness kills me.Sometimes there just aren't enough reasons to feel lonely.Most times there are no reasons to feel lonely.And the minimality of alibi bums me out.

Have you felt the insane feeling where everyone around you has somebody and you have no one to hold onto?You're in a huge crowd of people, who are laughing,talking and having a great deal of fun.You join them too.You laugh along.But you still feel like a separate entity.A small part refusing to intersperse with the whole.Does everyone in the crowd feel that way or is it just you?Is it your own fault that you feel distanced from others?Is it that they do not understand you or is it because you don't try to be understood?

The most cliche line has to be 'Something to hold onto'.I've read it, heard it, sang it and wrote it.And yet I do not know if I understand it.It maybe because of the fact that I'm afraid to be completely free.Maybe I need conditional restrain.If I were never afraid of letting myself go completely,I would never feel low.But I do.I don't want to.

I am only human.I have my own dreams and expectations.The problem is I include others in them as well.I dream of somebody.I dream to be with somebody.I never dream of being somebody.I expect others to understand me,feel what I feel.I never expect myself to not need somebody.I probably experience all of these random thoughts and musings because I'm a little too rigid about the something I want to hold onto.I need that something to be mine alone. Undivided attention.Maybe I need to loosen up.Not be so uptight.And the fact remains that I'm waiting for the right person.Not just any person will do.I've made the mistake before and the repercussions were heart-breaking.I will just bide my time and wait for either the karmic connection to spark or make do with the next best.Its not that I desperately want to be un-single.I love the independence and the privacy my singledom offers me.But just some times, oh so few times, its good to fall back on committed shoulders.

This helped.Not so low anymore.Speaking of low, there's a song called 'Low' by Coldplay,which has these lines:

"You mean more,mean more to me,
Than any colour, I can see............"

Someone to love.Sigh.

What was I thinking?

Well,I havent updated in a LONG time!Just posted a comment on this guy's blog(which is nothing less than genius!) asking him to update more frequently.So thought,what if my 'blogmirers' too want me to update?(I like flattering myself!).So,despite having the worst writers' block in the history of time and writing,decided to try something.

A few days back,I was talking to Kriti about something very mundane.Something useless even.And somehow the talk centred around how some people get straight As but cannot get the most simple logic.Or lack basic common sense and general knowledge.Hello!I'm not asking you to know the capital of Cambodia(It isnt Sean Penn,any 'Friends' fans?).Atleast who Saddam Hussain is.Sorry was(May he rot in hell).Atleast frigging 4 years after the invasion.Phew!Anyway,so I told Kriti,I may not be a 9-pointer or technically well versed,but I have creative intelligence.She asked me 'Whats that?'.So I started explaining my point.

We live in a huge crowd of artists.Yes,we do.True artists are rare to discover,it does not necessarily mean they do not exist.And by artists I mean, poets(my favourite category only because I count myself in this.See!I told you I was modest!), writers, painters, singers, actors, film makers...the list goes on.Every one of these arists, once in their life, come up with a brainchild.Their very own masterpiece.I know the effort that goes into realising a thought.And once you are done,its the most sublime joy you can feel.Well,without further digression,I get their masterpieces!I get the effort behind every line,every expression,every single brush stroke.I get what the artist shouts out loud with subtle words.I get their pride,their joy,their thought.Yes!The most important of it all.I get the thought behind the realisation.And that my friend, is creative intelligence.The soft smile on your lips,the faint 'Oh!' when you read a line,or listen to a melody is an invisible homage paid to every artist,hidden or popular,critically acclaimed or commercially viable,a silent nod of approval.And being an artist myself,I would love it through and through if somebody gets me.Wouldn't you?

I do feel envious sometimes,when people understand dimensions better than I do or can apply logic before it sinks in my tech-challenged brain.But I also like the feel of understanding the human psyche behind every expression of art I can feed my senses on.This is probably why people tell me I'm cut out for humanities.And the reason why I hate what I learn presently.Life is unfair!