An ode to Sylvia Plath

A glass window
Sharp and crystal clear
Wide expanse of sea right ahead
Birds free as the air
Sky somersaulting in the sea
Sun rays melting into the sand
A surfer having the best time of his life
Beautiful nymphs floating around
She turned and turned the pictures
Twisted them in beautiful moulds
None provided inspiration

The paper was crushed and now bore zillions creases
It lay all alone on the table
The keys of the typewriter rusted
It looked gloomy like a cobweb of a dead spider
She sat and sat
Spanned days and nights
Traversed dreams
None provided inspiration

She twitched and twitched
Walked and walked
What was it with her
The poem was buried deep inside
Strangling itself to death
The words were climbing the trees which were faraway from this island
She wondered and wondered
She realised she was really happy.
Was that it?

The big fat monster called wedding

By the time you start traversing your challenging 20s, your immediate family, their family and their dogs and cats start worrying about your marriage. For people like me, who stay away from family, it's slightly easier to deal with cuz we gotta listen to all the great talk just once in a while. Initially, I used to take great pains in explaining everyone that I am anti-marriage. I had/still have a great power point presentation in my head to prove my point. Inspite of all the million dollar wonderful reasons that I had, everybody would pass it off as 'oh all girls say that they dont wana marry' syndrome.

As I moved further in my twenties, things started to look bleak. I decided to channelise my creative energies in doing the things I like rather than wasting my great PPT to explain people that really, marriage is not the be all and end all of anybody's existence (gender no bar). I started nodding at everything that my immediate family, their family and their cats and dogs would say about my future wedding. And I realised its so much fun. They feel so happy and relieved in the fact that I am talking about my imaginary wedding that they actually have almost forgotten that there needs to be an actual wedding. So for the time being, its kinda taken care of.

Recently, however, I met my old college friends..From the five of us, one is already married, two just got hitched to their respective boyfriends :) n one's mum has each and every thing ready for her marriage including the venue...just a lil element of hardly any importance is still required-groom.

So yesterday, when I thought I would catch up on old amazing mad times with my friends, 90% of the time was spent in talking about their respective marriages...It was fun for sometime but then I felt kinda lost cuz I really cant relate to it.

I wish that people who really are comfortable being single for as long as they can, should not be ostracised. And the immediate family, their family, their cats and dogs and also friends should not constantly whisper sweet-nothings like how-it-is-so-important-to-get-married-if-you-dont-wana-end-up-an-old-crazy-hag in their ears.

I think almost everyone at this age is mature and capable enough to decide the right time for them to get married or to get married or not in the first place!!!

Basquiat

Recently stumbled upon this movie called Basquiat in my hard drive. I had no idea what the movie was about but first five minutes into the movie, I knew I am in for something special. The opening scene when Jean Michel Basquiat (Samo) comes out of a cardboard box, then the scene where he makes a painting on the table at a cafe with maple syrup just pulled me into the movie completely. Basquiat, as many would know, was a well-known American Graffiti painter. The movie charts his journey from him being a nobody to him acquiring distinction and the growing emptiness in his character as he moves forward. Interestingly, in his real life, Basquiat did not have a woman called Gina, but in the movie, she plays a highly important character. As I read somewhere on the net, she is actually his alter-ego.And she is made to feel what he is going through subconsciously.

There were two-three really interesting scenes in the movie which I want to mention. One is ofcourse (my favourite) when Basquiat paints over Gina's painting and her dress and while she gets horribly mad at him, he calms her down by saying this, "Jean Michel Basquiat: He says he's jealous of the moon, because you look at it. He's jealous of the sun, because it warms you. He says, "I feel you, even when I'm not feeling you. I talk to you when I'm not talking to you. I love you, even when I'm not loving you."" This scene where he holding her is juxtaposed with his vision where a bird is luring a frog and finally it gobbles up the frog. Highly interesting scenes and really beautiful lines.

Other scene, which is more or less the theme of the movie, is when Basquiat is having a discussion with Andy Warhol where he says that when he was a nobody, people said that he will never make it..After he made it, people said that it would be short-lived and he wouldnt be able to continue. When his success continued, then people started saying that he is losing himself in drugs and alcohol...That's like a universal dilemma for most creative talented people.

Also, just remembered, one of the scenes when Basquiat is doing some work with this sculptor cum electrician in a gallery, this guy says that he is happy that he has never got recognition as that has really helped him develop his skills.

It's a must watch film. Beautiful imagery. Great theme. Biography!

The cat. The whore

(Dedicated to the fat cat who sits below my bulding)'

She spreads her body on the cemented ground
Gives ominous looks whenever she sees me around
She has too much flesh, much more than she can manage

I often see her with different lovers
She sizes them up and never gives in completely

I see her when I leave, I see her when I come back
She is groggy in the morning, angry in the night
Agonized with the pain of her pain, almost all the time
I try and ignore but she comes right before my eyes
I feel intimidated, sometimes scared
The cat just gives me a gigantic stare

I wish she would take her brothel someplace else
Wouldn't spread her wings in the night like a dark horse
And leaves me in peace, fucking lascivious bitch
The cat. The whore!

Rajasthan Roots

Few days back when my friend (who was born and brought up in Jaipur n now stays in Mumbai!) had told me about Rajasthan Roots band gig happening at Blue Frog, I wasnt very excited. Even though my mom and dad have strong connections to Rajasthan, I particularly am not that fascinated by the place.

Yesterday, after a rather long day, I was trying to cook up a story to bunk the gig for which my friends were going. In the end I thought about Carlsberg and decided to go! Once we entered the "blue" blue frog, I was in for a very pleasant surprise.

Rajasthan Roots was a phenomenal experience. Most of the stuff was instrumental and was truly fab. They played two songs (that I heard): Banjara and Ali and took my breath away. It was really nice...Folk music infused here and there with electronic. And the lead guy had amazing voice plus he was an expert in the clank wooden thing instrument (I have no idea whats it called!)

Check out one of their performances here

Chrysanthemum

Chrysanthemum
Conjure up a valley
With a spring of all pervasive desire
Winters could gather up at the door
Smiling, romantic, ready for a splash
The moon sprinkled under the feet
White with blacks
Sun would be inside you
Melted and frozen
It would flow into the mundane flowers too
But would be yours forever

Chrysanthemum
You would be crazy and happy
You would say the most inane things
Which would be multi-coloured
Soaked in passion
Smooth and sharp

Chrysanthemum
There would be no shore, no water
A white dove will carry you in its hands
Winking at its lovers
Spreading its wings for them

Delhi Winters

One of the very few things I really miss about my hometown Delhi is "Delhi winters". Winter is my favourite season. There is some sort of romance attached to it. I have so many memories of my almost 21 winters spent there.

I love dressing up in winters. The layers and layers were just so fascinating. Bright colourful clothes- Skeevees, mufflers, socks, sneakers, cardignas, sweaters, warmers, shawls...Surpisingly however cold it has been, I have never ever worn a woolen cap or gloves...Just some sort of weird aversion...

Anyways,I remember leaving home for college at the time when fog is in no mood to give up...We would wade through it to go to Delhi University which is even colder than the normal residential areas. Our asses would freeze wherever we would sit. And we would have one cup of nescafe coffee after the other throughout the day...I somehow always feel more happy and peaceful during this season.

There is always a better variety of food too during winters. Especially in Delhi, there are lots of things which are only eaten during this season..Though I am personally not fond of many of those things like baajra khichdi, sarso saag n stuff but its nice to have these delicacies reserved for winters. It truly deserves all the special treatment.

I also have some wicked memories when I was in school and on lots of days I would just pretend to take bath in the morning (eeeuuuu i kno!) And in the night, I would really get angry when my father forced me to brush my teeth once I have tucked myself in my oh-so-cozy quilt. Once in a while, my dad would also give us a little brandy which was diluted in warm water. Now that was something I would look forward to (The seed for my love for alcohol was sown long back). It was the tastiest beverage I had ever had till then!

I miss "Delhi Winters". This year, after four years, I am planning to spend atleast few days in Delhi during December :)

Kurbaan

Yesterday was quite a nostalgic moment when I saw Kurbaan in Eros...I had gone to the theatre after a very very long time..and remembered all the movies I had seen there while I was in Xavier's...Anyways, talking about the movie, for a change, leme start with something good first...Saif Ali Khan, Saif Ali Khan and Saif Ali Khan...Now do I need say more...If all terrorists were as sexy n hot as him!!!! Anyways, in the second half the only thing I wanted to do was to just go inside the screen and bash up Vivek Oberoi badly for being so highly dumb and annoying!!! Technically its the scriptwriter's fault for creating this dumbass crappy character but my ire got directed at what I could see in tangibly at that time...the movie overall was OK...The story was OK too...But not even a single moment when I could...wow, awesome...Sorry Rensil, but thats what I felt! Anyways, the dialogues are quite good..Very day-to-day kind of dialogues, like how one human talks to another...which is good for a masala Hindi movie...Kareena was Ok...But again her character was so confused...Love Saif or hate Saif after she discovers that he is a terrorist...Anyways, one watch is not all that bad!!!

A wish comes true and the other flies off far away

The lime green wall walking upto the window
The subtle shine on the polished glass
The moonshine reaching my ears
A melancholic tune full of rhymes
I rest my head on the corner of the wall,
Look out at the empty mosaic lane
Nobody walks through it
The midnight bell rings loud and clear
Giving me orders to sleep
I think about the colours I had seen through the day
And the black and silver seems stark
I feel like a lover yearning for my beloved
Throwing coins in the pool of the moonlight
A wish comes true and the other flies off far away

Quarter life crisis!!!

In 2001, two great people in the world, Abby Wilner and Alexandra Robbins, identified the issue thar I am suffering from currently, Quarterlife Crisis.

Well, till sometime back I didn’t know the name of my “problem”. But then I was very happy to discover that I suffer from a totally cool psychological disease.

Basically, I tried to make a transition from writing to being an assistant to a director (That’s called DA in the direction lingo!). And honestly, it’s an experiment/sabbatical phase for me. I am trying something out and taking a break. That’s all.

I am in a phase where I just can’t seem to go back to a fixed routine. I am just in my own world. Thinking of new ideas...Financially, it’s a big risk. But leaving that aside, it’s a really great time of my life. My thoughts are just all over the place and I really like it this way. I don’t want them to follow a given fixed boring stream.


PS: Soon you will see a new version of this blog with some really interesting stuff!! Watch this space for more. (Journalism cliché!)

Blind Alley

Lights and lights everywhere
I walk down a blind alley
Blind as the sea in the dark
Blind as the moon in the day
A stream of colors light the sky
Sparkling brilliance all over the world
I look down and smile
At the irony of fact and fiction
Force myself to climb up the wall
Can’t be locked here forever
I sit amidst strangers
Smile sheepishly at everything said
While secretly listening to the music of colors
I am lost as lost can be
I criticize myself and the world sometimes
It rains heavily in the dark
The cab driver takes his last passenger of the night
He drives up the blind alley and soon finds himself at home
His wife, his children, his mother and his furniture
The city moans, cries, laughs and complains
It is so dark that one can’t find home
Yet they all sleep in homes
I think this and a lot more
And doze off at a nice cozy corner of the blind alley

Amu

When I was a kid I was extremely argumentative and my grandfather joked that she was born right after Indira Gandhi died and she is the prime minister of our home. I was born in 1984, so were most of my friends. We were born this year and Indira Gandhi died this year were the only two facts about the history that were revealed to me. I have never been much of a history enthusiast but I thought that I know most of the important highlights of the India history through the textbooks that I mugged up in school. Today I watched this documentary by Shonali Basu ‘Amu’ and I realised like the protagonist in the movie even our parents and our country haven’t educated us properly about the history of our country.

The movie was extremely enlightening. I had no idea that there were mass murders of Sikhs and there were such brutal killings. The movie subtly shows that this was in cold blood, meticulously planned by the beurocrats.

It is a must watch. It is an extremely well made film too. A lot of detailing has gone in the film in terms of everything. Everyone has done a wonderful job and especially Konkona Sensharma.

I am bored of this pattern now
Of being in love with you
It was a beautiful kaliedoscope from which I had seen hues
But now its broken
Its not even black
Its transparent
Makes me see the world as it is
I hate it

My muse is lost
I am no longer a poet

I dive deep in blue and wash away purple
I run round and round to come back to your words
Now I am looking for a point that joins the semicircles
I want to break it, break it forever
Go back to the Eden alone

I am no longer thinking about you
Its just the thoughts that keep coming back to you

Mr Obama

Well, alomost all of us knew that there is something special about this man...His campaigns before elections infused energy in the gloomy recession era..Somewhere, people had the gut feeling that this man is THE change that USA and in turn, the rest of the world needs..His eclectic and charming personality won him the US elections and hearts of lot of crazy Americans and I am sure, many Indians too.

Anyways what triggered this flow of adulation for him right now is Mr Obama's presence in David Letterman show on STAR World. He had made an appearnce on the show while he was campaigning and had "promised" to come back if he wins the election. I had never seen that episode. David just mentioned it on this particular episode. Well, here he was, super down-to-earth yet very firm-in-his-beliefs president of USA talking about economy, job scene in US, Afganistan, Iraq amidst cheers and claps and some nice and some cheeky jokes of Mr Letterman.

I was just really impressed to see the President so relaxed and soooo close to the public. He just seemed soo accessible. There is just something about him.....

I like!

Nothingness

I can have the privilege of calling myself ‘jobless’ these days. I like the term (so far). There is some kind of ‘return to innocence’ feeling in this state. I am kind of sandwiched between past and future work but I am still making the most of this present. I am discovering ‘nothingness’. For me, nothingness does not equate to being blank. That’s a state which is too ideal to be true. However, it is about (how Jim Morrison puts it) a state of travelling to subconscious.
Started with reading Shadow Lines again (for the sixth time now). I am reliving it in words, in pictures and in my imagination. What better way to start nothingness than reading ‘A place does not merely exist, that it has to be invented in one’s imagination’. ‘One could never know anything except through desire, real desire, which was not the same thing as greed o lust, a pure painful and primitive desire, a longing for everything that was not in oneself, a torment of the flesh, that carried one beyond the limits of one’s mind to other times and other places, and even, if one was lucky, to a place where there was no border between oneself and one’s image in the mirror.
Followed with a movie called ‘Coffee and Cigarettes’. Inane, open-ended and find-your-own-meaning conversations over, yes, coffee and cigarettes (well, most of them!). Amazingly beautiful overhead shots of the banal cups filled with stimulating coffee and an ash-tray filled with the butts of often claimed-to-be pacifier. I could feel nothingness throughout.
Followed with real conversation over real (and badly made) coffee. Good conversation though. Minus the cigarettes this time.
Walk through the bustling street. Lights and traffic whizzing past. Looking and yet not looking anywhere. Eyes on the blocks of foot-path. Counting a number of things and making patterns.
Sleep. Dreams. Forgettable good dreams.
Stumbled on a page on Charles Dickens. A question was once asked (to this effect): How do you create these characters? Charles: That’s a mystery unfathomable’.
More movies: Water Lilie. Journey into the psyches of two adolescent girls, grappling with their sexualities. A very well clicked picture of a complex subject. Disturbing and beautiful. Water becomes their freedom in the end.
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind: Puzzling till the end. Tribute to imagination. Wild imagination. Create-your-own-world imagination.
Nothingness is short-lived. Have work tomorrow. And I am excited as hell.

No more “silent” movies! Why?

A Mallu friend went to Matunga to buy some kickass Tamil and Mallu movies. While we rejected his idea of watching the original version of Bhool Bhulaiya, we decided to watch Pushpak, India’s first and only silent movie featuring Kamal Hassan.
I had seen the movie when I was young but fortunately I barely remembered anything about it. There began a riot; A non-stop fantastic riot.
It is a superb movie-a masterpiece. It is full of grey humour which is the classiest form of humour, according to me. Obviously the biggest highlight is that it is a silent movie which is beautifully adorned with fabulous sound effects and music. There are even some signature tunes assigned to various characters. The character of magician who makes the most effective use of his art of magic to fool his wife is fun. Hassan is obviously THE STAR of the movie. The drunk guy, beggar and Hassan’s girlfriend make a mark too.
Anyways, hats off to everyone who pulled this one. Making a silent movie which is super slick is just awesome. And I so wish one of our current age ‘indie’ directors try out something in this genre!
Here’s a small clip for those of you who still haven’t seen this one.

In love....with a thought

I am often tempted to look back
Walk through the glass doors again
Crack them as hard I can
I chuckle a bit at the thought
Lie curled between the spaces
It never happens twice they say
I laugh at them and at myself
There are no two suns
No two moons
I want stars which are in millions
I stir the thought a bit
Stretch it for all its limits
I fool myself that I want to break it
I walk listless and high
With the thought lurking in the sky
I wonder why I do this to myself
A great sunrise is by my bed
I toss and turn and lock myself in the night
The thought, at all times, by my side
I am not in love
Yet I have never been more in love
Yes, with the thought ofcourse!

Kaminey!

After a long lull, comes a storm. Doesn’t quite turn the world upside down, but makes you cling to whatever is next to you and you are definitely in awe of it for the time it lasts. This is how I experienced Kaminey.

One of my favourite director’s film was obviously much awaited by me and zillions of others. I knew this will be a slightly hatke affair from his other films and I was curious to see the treatment of the cliché by this humungous store of talent.

Enough has been said about the movie. It is by now almost universally acknowledged the treatment of the movie was brilliant with razor sharp editing. Not even one scene to sit back and relax. Priyanka Chopra stole focus in many scenes. Brilliant. Natural. Shahid worked hard on the “fpeech”. Pretty decent acting. Ofcourse the plot puzzle was well put together.

The only disappointing bit was the climax. It was just toooo predictable and boring and like my friend Ekta said, too Priyadarshan.

There could have been something there. The clichéd story could have been tuned on its head with the climax but that did not happen! Disappointing! But overall, crisp and intelligent!

“These are the professional wastrels we call poets, the ones whose job it is to go about wasting time, falling in love, not making it, drowning their sorrows, and all sorts of things that are not permitted in polite society-which is why polite society so dearly wants to hear about it.”
Omair Ahmad (Novelist)

Of rains, old Hyderabad and chatty cab drivers

I landed in Hyderabad on a sleepy Monday morning for an interesting work assignment. Was cranky as I had to get up at 4 a.m. Without trying to act too smart I settled for a prepaid taxi to my hotel in Banjara Hills. I was slowly sinking into my cushy seat and planning to take a quick power nap when my cabbie pointed out a bridge which had broken and caused a massive accident few months back. He made the story interesting by putting the element of how he had crossed the same bridge just ten minutes before the accident. After that he became my self-appointed guide and introduced me to different buildings, roads and even the malls that we crossed. Told me that when I have to go back to the airport, he will give me a discount of nothing less than Rs 100.

Green Park Hotel was where I was stationed for a day and a night. Had one hour before my first meeting, grabbed a quick bite and then off to work. Was free and exhausted at 6.30 pm. One of my very good friends tried to make few plans for where I could go. I was torn between exploring the city a bit or lazing around and watching TV in my room!

I first chose the latter. Spent half an hour in the room while it had started raining outside. Then felt really guilty of being so lazy. I asked my hotel to book a cab for me to nearby places including Birla Temple and Necklace road. It was raining incessantly when I reached the temple. Being impatient is another great virtue I possess. So I decided to explore the temple while it was raining. Beautiful marble temple with steps leading to its various subsections featuring various deities. Was drenched when I reached the top-most section (Apparently it had rained in Hyderabad after three four months and I felt like a rain goddess ;)). The view outside was spectacular. Seemed like I could see the whole of beautifully lit Hyderabad. While coming down, I saw the beautiful carvings on the marble wall which featured each scene from the Hanuman Chalisa. Nicely done.

Back in the hotel, the night involved cribbing to my friends in Mumbai about how I am staying ALL ALONE in a hotel room for the first time and weird few second power cuts to add to my misery.

Next half day was full of work. The people at my last meeting were extremely kind to have arranged a trip for me to the old Hyderabad for few hours before I had to catch my flight. Ashraf was my driver and travel guide for the old Hyderabad tour. He pointed out various interesting monuments, narrated their little stories, and trivia. We went past a palace built on a mountain, numerous mosques (some pretty dilapidated yet breathtaking beautiful), some white colour pretty building which was a museum. We then entered the narrow, teeming with people market, Pathargatti. Ashraf pointed out the carvings on each wall. It was all made of stone, thus the name Pathargatti, he said. It was a pretty colourful market, reminded me of Chandni Chowk. We then went past through the three building which lead to the fourth one- Charminar. Ashraf parked the car and helped me wade through the Lad Bazar (famous for its bangles, yes I did buy some), market located next to Charminar.

We headed back to the car and then to the swanky new Hyderabad airport whizzing past some more dilapidated structures on our way.

Don’t laugh so much

Don’t laugh so much, you’ll cry, someone said.
Walked all over it
The sudden urge to fly over the blazing sun was strong
I kept finding reasons
None matched my demeanour
Shapeless clouds were boats in my eyes
I kept wading through the air and its blue waves
There was nothing right and yet all was not wrong
Cloudy day, quite like the twilight
I went through the whole maze
Treading not too carefully
Often landed in a weird new land
My curiosity never had any end
Tasteless fruits I ate and got drunk on sea
The day went on and on like my heart

Then when left alone to ponder in the night
I broke down
Desperately looking for chaos and moon
Found myself in a very small house
The windows were jammed and locked
It felt like purgatory
I got restless and scared
Filled all the moonlight I could get through the curtains
Saved a tear drop
Got drunk on the loneliness

Love Aaj Kal!

I happened to read Imtiaz Ali’s interview in Platform_ magazine where he talks about his myriad experiences and his rather “inexperience” of cinema that makes him to show things as they are-real. I can vouch for that considering I loved the pristine quality of dialogues and an amazing sense of realism even in the kind of typical boy-meets-girl love stories-Socha na tha and Jab We Met.

Then he went on to talk about his latest movie Love Aaj Kal which is due to release tomorrow. I am surely looking forward to watch the movie because I really like Ali’s style of direction and also because of the theme of the movie which is about love relationships in today’s times.

Well, this just got me thinking about the theme of the movie itself. I apparently might be the most inappropriate person to comment on love relationships because I have never ever been in a proper relationship. However, as I am a good observer, you might find my take interesting ;)

I am not writing a thesis here but all I feel is that somewhere, the idea of romance itself is undergoing massive reconstruction and the version that is slowly emerging is not attractive at all. The depth and passion is slowly evaporating. We hardly hear of any crazy (good) things being done or small little miracles. May be I am too much of a Romantic but I just don’t see the poetry of romance being translated into the prose of life!

I have often been told about the “rules” of how should you behave when you have just started dating and how there are certain things that you should do and obviously certain things you should never do in relationships and blah blah blah. May be I am born in a wrong era but I hate structures and especially when it comes to your heart, impulse is the only thing that matters.

“Art never comes from happiness”

Few weeks back, one of my friends had just mentioned this quote to me (by Chuck Palahniuk) in passing when we in a midst of a discussion. Somewhere this line just almost got permanently fixed in my heart and I have often found myself pondering over this idea. How far is this true?

There are enough examples in the history to cite that most artists, poets, writers have been shrouded by clouds of gloom for some reason or the other. They have had “complex” lives and often loneliness and not happiness has drawn them to give birth to what they have created.

However, as it is generalising a bit too much. I spoke to couple of my friends who came up with some pretty interesting insights.

One of my friends said that it is not necessarily true. This friend writes extremely well and paints beautifully. Keeping herself in the situation, she said, that she is often compelled to write when she is on her own and somewhere sad but she can’t paint unless and until she is feeling happy.

Another friend gave an even more beautiful picture. According to her, we have a very restricted definition of art and creativity and whatever is outside of that is tremed mechanical. According to her, there is some form of art involved in all kinds of job in the world and thus there is not direct correlation of art and happiness.

As for me, the reason I got so attracted to this idea was that somewhere I could relate to I like moth to fire. I somewhere find myself unable to pen my thoughts when I am happy. And it is really easy to flow ink to paper when I am lonely. There are more beautiful thoughts. I am more inspired to write. However, my art form is pretty much limited to writing so don't know...

What do you think?

The clouds have cleared and yet they precipitate in my head
I bumped into a friend last night who had lost some tears
We smiled and smiled and said nothing at all
There was no laughter,
No chuckle, just a mundane smile
Looking at the road, wanting to die
A numb, merciful death
Giving way to the next generation of smile
Smile which has real mirth
I wanted to love
Love him and all the pain
I sunk into the wall
Let the thought pass through the wall into nothing

Malaysia Diary

A visit to Kuala Lumpur and Taman Negara in Malaysia to attend Sony Entertainment’s press conference and behind the scenes tour for their latest reality show ‘Mujhe iss jungle se bachao’ is an assignment totally meant for a genius like me.

On top of that, god gifted me for all my hard work and dedication when I got to know that my friend Priyanka was travelling with me.

And of course, the trip had to be a riot with two super-cool people travelling together and so it was. So this is a brief version of all the hard work I did for four days for anybody who is interested!

Day one: Reached KL early morning and it was a one hour drive from the airport to our swanky hotel Crowne Plaza. Our guide for the way, Amarjeet, had a pretty good sense of humour. He tried his level best to excite us about the next few days to come and told us how Tandas is the Malay for Toilets, and Thanks you is teri maki...something something which are very similar to the Hindi versions of these words (in some way or the other).

Anyways, after breakfast, two hour nap and then lunch, I was ready to explore KL. The first day was kept for sight-seeing and shopping and that is exactly what we all did. Saw city’s two main attractions Petronas Twin Towers and Kuala Lumpur Tower. Our new guide was pretty pathetic and intolerable. As soon as we announced that we would like to go shopping as sight seeing wasn’t really possible because it was pouring pretty heavily, he seemed pretty mad at us. Anyways, the plan worked! He decided to drop us to a mall after Petronas. After that it was shopping, shopping and some more shopping. Dinner and sleep.

Day two: Left for Taman Negara (130 year old rain forest) early in the morning, where we were supposed to take the jungle tour where the production team is shooting for the show. It was a five hour drive and then a two minute boat ride to reach the resort. Me and Pri bumped into our old friend Sami and then we all basically went mad! The jungle tour was fun..too many steps and too much walking. And I totally loved it! While on the trek, there were thought bubbles near my head that I should be fitter.

The only disappointing bit was that it didn’t rain in the rain forest and I did not see any wild animals in the jungle. Only heard stories about monitor lizards, pythons and wild boar roaming in the resort where we were staying. Went for another random boat ride at night and took some pictures at some desolated god forsaken place and then back. Then giggles, gossip, food, coffee, giggles, gossip and sleep.

Day three: Back to KL in the afternoon after the drive through the greens. Two hours for some sight-seeing (KL Tower) and some coffee at Starbucks before we leave for the press conference at another hotel. Back to our hotel in the night and then to Hard Rock Cafe where we happened to see a local kiddie band perform. Good fun!

Day four: Slightly gloomy in the morning because the trip was finally coming to an end. Had to fly back this evening. However, it was a well spent day. How? Shopping! And yeah, a haircut too.

Confused now, are we?

Confused now, are we?
Losing things in our heads,
Getting lost in the lines,
Questioning the answers,
Walking the way backwards.

Start with the hangover,
End with a drink.
Twirling our minds in the smoke,

Lost now, are we?
Thinking about love,
Talking about false dreams.
The river keeps passing through the house,
We go to the desert and swim.

Keep hearing the name again and again,
Forgetting that it is the most common name.

Broken, are we?
False covers on the books we love,
Beautiful bizarre smiles on our faces.
We walk proud and lonely,
Holding hands while we can.

Weekend!

May be I am stating the most obvious but life is as interesting and boring as one wants it to be at any given time.

Since a really long time I have been thinking about writing something for my blog apart from the poems that is. Initially the plan was to write a satire on ‘Mumbai Cab Drivers’ but after losing the entire draft due to the death of my original C drive, I lost the drive and enthusiasm to rewrite it. Anyways, since I had not done anything inspiring or extraordinary in my life since last few weeks, there was nothing that I could come up with.

Anyways, after being depressed, disillusioned, de-motivated and blah blah blah since last few days, I decided to just take off to my best friend’s place towards the weekend (on Thursday to be precise). And it worked like magic. There were two unique experiences that I had during this stay which symbolically and literally made me realise a lot of things.

Well, to begin with I don’t know how to swim. But I “landed” myself into a pool on Thursday evening for two hours. The whole experience of two hours (walking and almost drowning) in the water was absolutely enchanting. I love water (I know it is high time I learn swimming!). It just made me traverse into an altogether new world!

The second experience was the dance classes that I joined today. After my almost banal existence of four years in Mumbai, I finally moved my ass (pun intended) to do something interesting and fun. When I was a kid, I would always fight with my dad because he used to take us only on imaginary holidays. He used to make full fledged plans, get us excited and then ultimately spend the entire holidays lazing around at home. Somewhere, quite conveniently, I have inculcated his terrible habit. I plan for really interesting things in life. If I ever write down the things that I have wanted to do in life and never done anything about them except in my imagination, it would reach the sky! Anyways, this experience was fabulous. Even though I can’t dance to save my life but just the music, the exercise, the new atmosphere, new people were more than enough to lift my spirits.

PS: Also saw Wolverine over the weekend. Have to say that I ain’t much impressed. The climax was super pathetic with all its clichés and not much action. Hugh Jackman was just alright! No big deal.

New City

It is almost like a start from the end of the lane
The dead end doesn’t open but takes me through it
I am wrapped in a bizarre quilt
Not feeling cold in the very cold land
The walls are freezing and they merge with me often.
I am dazed and yet at my best
Smiling at all that I come across
Awake nights after nights
Meeting the stars in the other land
Out of love, yet soaked in it
Making acquaintances, looking for my lover
Flashes of days passing in a jiffy
The new city seems apprehensive about me
The buildings collapse often
And the towers keep rising
Reaching an epitome of jammed clouds
Still floating and exploring the city

When it is gonna rain this time...

I would be floating in the sand.
Digging my feet deep into the water.

When it is gonna rain this time.
I would let the umbrella go upside down.
I would catch the first cloud that agrees to take me to the beach.
I would smile and smile and break the ice.

When it is gonna rain this time.
The girls would giggle to not get a penny.
The boys would hide with their black gloves lost.
The old woman neighbour might complain less.

When it is gonna rain this time.
I would be curled in a raindrop.
Sleeping tight.
No rainbow for me.
For I hate sunshine.

When it is gonna rain this time...

Stranger in the crowd

Stranger in the crowd,
Looking for my glass of wine,
Scurrying for a trip.
Looking through the door,
Watching the stray dog snooping around.
Music, dance, dungeon and obscure faces,
Smiling at the shallow walls of wood.
Mocking at moon’s passion.
Thinking about someone.
Thinking about no one.
All set to fall in love,
All set to be bonded in dreams.

Story that I just discovered!

I caught up with my very good old friend Priyanka after a long time. We celebrated with good food and cleared all the backlog of what happened in each other’s lives. When we were exhausted, we came back to our usual topic: who are you in touch with from XIC? One thread led to another and we landed up on an interesting story about a person called Gunraaj who studied with us. Gunraaj was in TV and video production course, while I and Priyanka were in advertising and journalism courses respectively. I had never noticed Gunraaj or spoke to him much. The only thing, frankly, that I had noticed was that he talked in a rather pansy way. Anyways, he was out of my circle of concern
Then during the convocation day, some of the films created by the TV/video prod students were nitpicked and showcased. One of the films that made us give almost a standing ovation was a film created by Gunraaj about trans-sexuality. That was the last I knew about Gunraaj.
The next I heard about him was now, after three years, from Priyanka. And the news was that Gunraaj is now Gazal. She is extremely beautiful and is one of the most happiest persons on earth because she listened to her subconscious voice, subvert the whole tangled mesh of norms created by “ society” and got a sex change operation done.
On the surface of it, obviously the most commendable thing is that Gazal accepted her sexuality and did what she had to, to get what she wanted. But what was inspiring for me was that all of us feel so obligated to society for what we are. Always thinking of what people are thinking about what we are, what we do. I wish we all had some part of the humungous courage that Gazal has of standing up for what we are, proudly, giving a fuck to whoever doesn’t want to understand.

Do read: http://gazalhopes.blogspot.com/

http://gazalhopes.blogspot.com/2008/10/last-mail-from-gunraj.html

Irregular Stream

An irregular stream of dreams is passing by,
The eyes are wide open and the world is in my arms.


There is someone somewhere looking at me,
I am not sure where I am.

Confined spaces, blocked tears,
There is a rather faint smile on the lips,
Someone in my dreams is feeling scared.

I politely dismiss the stream.
Walk in parallel.

Should I float in it?
Should I not?

The Doors, Jim Morrison

Once in a while it is a good exercise to a watch a movie that has the ability to inspire you in an obvious or in an obscure way. One such movie that I saw recently is ‘The Doors’ which is based on the life of Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer: one of the best performances I have ever seen). As I am not exactly a music person, I wasn’t that familiar with the music of Jim Morrison. But this movie introduced me to a great guy, a great idea and ofcourse great poetry. Infact two things that were the highlights for me include his early poetry, the one in its crudest form and the second: the idea that he mentions while giving an interview to journalists about how he believes in prolonged derangement of senses to reach the subconscious, It just fascinated me a lot. So did the idea of a ‘cosmic mate’ who was Pam (great performance by Meg Ryan) in this case.

Anyways, incase there are any late-comers like me, do catch the movie, especially if you are interested in poetry. After watching the movie I did a lot of research on JM’s life, poetry, ideas...The inspiration continues for me. Soon planning to fetch ‘The lost writings of Jim Morrison’...Check out some of his poems here: http://www.huddersfield1.co.uk/poetry/morrisonpoetry.htm
One of my favourites:

I am a guide to the Labyrinth

Monarch of the protean towers
on this cool stone patio
above the iron mist
sunk in its own waste
breathing its own breath

Let me write some words on the water

I feel inspired today,
Moved to tears,
Stones of tears.
They fall on my head and into my eyes.
And I smile and smile.
I turn around to look at you.
But you disappear when the sun goes down.

The darkness on your face is my soul,
The light in your eyes is my heart.

I dance in the moonlight,
Waiting for you to come.
You jump out of the ship to swim in the water.

I fly into the sky,
You dig deeper and deeper in the desert.
I surround myself with strangers,
You walk and walk away to be lonely.
I am lonely but you are not,
You walk with my soul.

The beach is beautiful,
And I want to write poetry
Walk with me baby,
Let me write some words on the water.

An Ode To My Childhood

Today, memories are looking through the glass,
Of the debates where no one would ever lose,
Of the evenings, where we always walked till the no man’s land,
Of the mornings, where the sun would melt in our eyes,
Of the nights, where the moon was right over our head,
Of the real stories about real people,
Narrated with passion,
Always with a glint in the eyes,
Of the white lies,
Of the black truths,
Of the magic webs,
Of the insane imagination,
Of no role models,
Of the stars that we always managed to count,
Of the moon who was at our beck and call,
Of the tears that could move the earth,
Of the laughter that could make the devil jealous.

“Bite my "cookie"” (not my "ass")!

Under normal circumstances, I can be classified as a TV buff. I decided not to get a TV at the new place that I moved in to bring some "discipline" in my life. Anyways, so now that I am home (Delhi) for this sweet little unexpected vacation, I am watching TV like it is nobody's business.
Anyway, let me connect you to that weird ass headline! I was watching couple of movies on STAR Movies, HBO and Zee Studio. And one common thing I observed with all the channels is that all the movies now carry subtitles in English which is obviously helpful at times when the accents are slightly incomprehensible. However, what was not so helpful was the fact that, at times, the subtitles are absolutely wrong, to the extent of being bizarrely insane.
Let’s me enlighten you with some examples: Ofcourse the headline of this post is one of the examples: ‘Bite my "cookie"’ was the subtitle instead of Julia Roberts original dialogue in the brilliant film Erin Brokovich ‘ bite my “ass"’!!!! It is still OK and makes atleast little sense (even though I disagree) to drop the “F” word but to drop the word SEXUALITY!!!!! Now come on guys! Give us a break! Oh another one: Does “crap” sound better/ more sophisticated than “shit”! Well, I really don’t think so but HBO does.
I can only remember these examples for now (because as someone rightly puts it, I have a memory of a Goldfish)...Will keep updating this with more examples and ofcourse you guys are more than welcome to add examples and fight against this serious cause!
Updated: Examples: Old Fart=Oldie and Butt=Backside

One of my fav singers. The song that never fails to inspire me

Why so serious?

Why so serious?

Joker's dad asked him!

Why so serious?

Joker joked with me.

The smile streched from one end to another.

Its elastic almost ready to snap.

The full moon stories were told in vain.

Some humorous innuendoes were narrated with fake pleasure.

The sky crystal clear and the throat was blocked.

The air was so pleasant and the brain was jammed.

Why so serious?

Joker pointed at the lovely weather.

In an answer, it burst open.

Rained, till it drenched him.

Crying in the rain my friend?

Joker, Joker, Joker

No need to be a cynic, I spoke for a change.

He turned around, smiled,

The elastic stretched and broke

He walked away.

I was just being a joker.

Lil Zizou

Watching a good movie on a bad day is a great idea!!!! That's exactly what I did. With all the humdrum inside my head, I decided to catch a movie with a friend and ended up watching a cute little flick called Little Zizou. Quite a refreshing movie! Some of the nuances were obviously not understood very clearly as I am not that familiar with the Bawa community. But interesting glimpses in the movie.

The secret underground airplane project by the teenage boys was awesome and enviable. So is the awesome graphic novel by the angry, interesting and calm teenage guy (Imaad Shah) who hates his father and is little cynical and a little “love lost”.

The healer/feeler pronouncing the chants every morning to solve the community’s “problems” and then expressing his disgust at his healer/feeler companion when she suggests that he should continue doing it even when the entire community has turned against him, is fun.

Good performances by everybody. Good use of John Abraham as just a show piece. He doesn’t deserve to act!

Anyways, the two people who take the cake are Lil Zizou himself (His late mother is an angel who gives him a sign of things to come by sending hottie Kamal Sidhu! and soccer star Zidane needs to come to India especially when he can go as far as France) Another good actor: Boman’s wife. Super good. Almost like Arjun Rampal’s wife in Rock On. Impressive. Go watch it, if you have not!

Read the signs

The reasons that I have not been able to write since last few days is that a) I was excited about and busy with the poetry group blog I started and b) I was uninspired. However, there is one thing that happened recently that inspired me to put in some words here. I had gone to a friend's house to celebrate her birthday and to have a girls' night out. Don't worry this post is not about the escapades of that night.

I happened to meet her sister who is a handwriting analyst (People who analyse handwriting and signature). I am always fascinated with handwriting analysis as there is some scientific approach involved in it as compared to horroscopes which are just 'bollocks' (as a friend mentioned last night).Anyways, I put my humble signature on a crisp white sheet of paper and there you go...one point after the other...some made me think, some made my smile and some embarrased me.. But the common thread: they were all so fucking accurate. I am impressed. Period.

She even mentioned some interesting points about cryptography. There are some people who write right to left and in the process make a cut on the alphabet in the same flow (for example t)..That's apparently a destructive aspect of personality. I am not saying that its all true but I just feel there is some sort of science in the analysis. Wotsay?

Prose N Verse

Guys do check out: http://lyricsandwords123.blogspot.com/
About: http://lyricsandwords123.blogspot.com/2009/03/welcome-guys.html

Long and lyrical . Truly magnificent performance

Long and lyrical
Saw The curious case of Benjamin Button this Sunday. Hadn't heard great reviews about the movie. But like any intelligent person, I chose to figure it out for myself. Once in the theatre, I was in for a long, slow but rythmic and lyrical experience of almost two and a half hours. What if we were born old and grew young and died when we are babies. Surrealisitc? Well, that's the basic storyline of the movie.
Life of Benjamin is interconnected to a clock which moves backward and is created by a desolated father who is hopeful to get his son who has been killed during a war. He is born as a old man-child and has been discarded as a monster child. Nevertheless, he continues to lead his super weird yet normal life as a wonderful lady decided to take care of him.
The movie traverses Benjamin's journey. BTW do check out Brad Pitt in his youngest avtar- too hot to handle! Anyways, he falls in love twice, once as an old man who is 17 years old and once as a charming (super hot) young dude who is about 40-50 years old. Cate Blanchett (his second love interest) is just about ok in the movie. But she cant be blamed much as the movie belongs to Pitt. The scene that I enjoyed the most is where a priest thinks that he is making seven year old OLD man walk and dies of a heart attack with the excitement.



Truly magnificent performance
Saw The Reader on Thursday night and had no idea that I would be so f****** mesmerised by Kate Winslet who plays Hanna Schmitz. I think she has outdone herself (won the oscar for this one). However, let me warn you at the outset that if you are planning to watch it in a theatre in India, please be ready to get irritated as so many scenes are cut inspite of the fact that it has an adult certificate (WTF)! I wouldn't go into the story of the film, you can read the synopsis here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Reader
There is something heartwarming about Hanna (former guard who worked during the Nazi regime in Germany) being illiterate. She has a desire to be read to. The film opens on her reader who is a 16 year old boy who has a torrid "love" affair with Hanna. The expressions when she is being read to are simply mindblowing. The scene where she is asked to give a sample of her handwriting during a court trial is my personal favourite. Hanna refuses and accepts the blame which leads to life imprisonment!
I also like the scene when her young ex-lover Michael meets her when her life imprisonment is about to get over. He removes his hand when she keeps her hand over it. Complicated poignant scene. Michael's predicament as a young lover who is always trying to understand Hanna's weird mood swings is interesting.
The larger issue of her getting a life imprisonment for locking up jewish women in a church during a fire twenty years ago when she was working as an SS guard during Nazi regime is worth pondering over!

PS: Both the movies are book adaptations. While Benjamin has been adapted from F Scott Fitzgerald's short story (READ THE FULL STORY HERE: http://www.readbookonline.net/read/690/10628/), Reader is adapted from Bernhard Schlink's book The Reader.

Movie Marathon

Well guys, after a very long time, I spent the last Sunday all by myself. It turned out to be a decent one. Had taken five movies from a colleague in the office (God bless him!) and saw the three of them on sunday, back-to-back...Let me tell ya people, there is a thrill in watching movies "back-to-back".Shawshank Redemption, The Prestige and Burn After Reading are the three movies that I saw:

Shawshank Redemption: Pretty motivating movie but in a kind of cliche way. It was predictable till the end. It was obvious that Andy (Tim Robinson) didnt kill his wife, it was obviuos that he would get all the library books that he wanted, it was obviuos that the general would kill the young bloke who was ready to give statement in Andy's defence. Morgan Freeman was pretty much wasted. Atleast I didnt see any layers to his character. So it was just about OK. Good story fallen prey to predictability!

Burn After Reading: Now that's my kind of movie. Its a really dark comedy, so dark that you would almost forget that its a comedy thriller. Understated cynicism. Awesome characters from George Clooney to Brad Pitt to the Gym girl to Osborne's wifey and to Osborne himself...Finely etched, well laid out on the platter. The best part is the pace of the movie.. It moves at an eclectic pace, really wonderful. Do catch this one if you haven't seen it already!
The Prestige: Haven't seen the last ten minutes of the movie so cant write any comments!!!

I need ink and paper

Food for thought,
Thought for soul,
Yes, I do need some.
Poems of some great writers,
Words of the lesser known,
Lyrics but no music.
World is but my imagination.
I need wings.
I am not Icarus.
I would fly to the sun.

I need to be a part of the scene,
The vibrant black scene.
I am in a jail, rotting away,
Writing gibberish and undiscovered words.
The ink is over and there is no more paper.

Joey Moment!!!

Once I was having a conversation with one of my great friends and she goes like "...And I had a Joey Moment!" Joey Moment! What the hell is a Joey Moment? She then explained me the connection: Sitcom Friends-Joey's character- moments when you make a complete ass of yourself and interestingly only you know about it! If you are all by yourself Joey moment deserves a full-fledged laughter track but if you are with someone and have realised that you have had a Joey moment then the laughter track has to be in a thought bubble.

So basically, recently I have had a flood of Joey moments and I felt so proud of myself that I decided this deserves a great chapter on my blog. So here are FEW examples. I am generally an extremely “lost” person but recently, every morning I have been doing some or the other goof ups. Sorry, I have been experiencing Joey moments.

Three days back, I made a cup of tea for myself in the morning and while the tea was on the stove, I put some coffee in a mug and then poured the tea over it.

Two days back, I took my loofah and then took my shampoo and then (yeah u guessed it), poured the shampoo on the loofah and almost scrubbed myself with it!

Generally all these moments have been a part of my super-lazy, I-hate-to-get-up morning life, but there is one Joey moment which took place in the night too, pretty recently!

Here is how it goes. I had couple of beers with couple of friends. And it is a universally acknowledged truth that you feel pee-pee after u have had some amazing chilled beers. That day for some reason I couldn’t use the nearby available washroom. I got home and decided to use my luxurious loo for the great purpose. As I reached till the main door, I was talking to this friend of mine and as the door latch was not on , I presumed that my roomie is at home so decided not to hunt for the key in my bag. I resumed my conversation and simultaneously banged on the door. After approx two-three minutes i realised that most probably my roomie is not at home. Thats when the doom struck.

I kept the phone down and began the hunt for the key in my huuuuge bag in which everything is always badly jumbled up and it’s almost like finding a secret key to a great fortune in a deep dark abyss with lot of enemies to stop you and stuff. Anyways after some minutes, my urge to use the loo was at its peak and there was no sign of the key in the abyss. Out of desperation, I sat down and threw half of the stuff from the bag out. While I was sorting my life out, it happened. There! I had peed in my pants! (Only a lil!!!!). Now this was the first part of the Joey Moment, the second part was that I was not wearing my own jeans but my roomie’s jeans.

Anyways, these were the only few JMs that can be discussed in the public domain. I would love to hear about your Joey Moments:)

I love Joey!

So you are the lonely one?
He said or asked.
A flickering smile crossed my lips.
I rested against the wall and took a sip of my drink.
As lonely as a rock in the middle of the vast sea?
As lonely as a fish in the aquarium?
As lonely as a writer’s dusty book in a library?
Not really.
I wanted to hold his hand once but didn’t.

Leave the poor guy alone!

http://adscam.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/02/yes-facebook-will-show-a-profit-eventually-perhaps-maybe-who-the-fuck-knows.html
Basically this dude got me thinking...Please go to the link and then come right back here...

Hmm...so whadya think?? Is facebook worth the hype?? Are all the facebookers maniacs/losers/depressive/whatever?
Well, have read two-three such super facebook-anti posts and went into a thinking mode..
I thought a lot. And I came to a conclusion that we actually need to leave the poor guy (Facebook ofcourse) alone.
In the sense that it is after all quite a good way to keep in "touch". I know some people do get overboard with pooch's pics and all but then the normal users use it pretty decently and to their advantage.
For example, I don't have a digicam. Recently, I went for this Goa trip with a bunch of friends and there were some memorable, hilarious, fun, tacky, nonsensical moments. Obviously, I told everyone that I am taking pics from them...In the next few days after our trip, the Facebook was flooded with around 6-7 albums for our Great Goa Trip...And being the smart girl that I am ;), I selected all the best images from all the albums and made my own Great Goa Trip album. So that was an example of wise use of Facebook!!!
Another example, you can always check out he profile/pics/info of your latest crush/fun crush and feel stupid/silly/happy/lusty/lovey-dovey/whateva!!!! Flirting is also not so bad on facebook...go there and post some fun comment on the wall/pic (Ok poking is a little silly)
For that matter, even the Status Message (criticised by lot of anti-facebook guys) is not such a bad thing after all.. You can actually use your creativity to write some fun/intelligent status line!!

So, one can make "intelligent" use of the portal. So all ye anti-facebook guys please give the poor thing a break.

PS: The only thing I agree with is that it might not be able to monetise because till date I have never paid attention to any ads. But I am sure the Facebook guys can think of little more innovative ways to earn their butter (and bread)!!!

Distorted Phoenix

Except for the name, she almost remembered everything. It was quite difficult to comprehend where she was and what was happening. It felt like she had risen from her ashes and was slightly dismantled. A distorted Phoenix!

She waded through the water and decided to explore the nearby land as she was keen to figure out what place was this. As she walked, she plucked the lowest hanging jackfruit to satisfy her hunger. It had been quite a while and she had walked few miles in and around the apparent jungle and was convinced that she is in her or someone else’s dream. She pinched herself and got hurt.

There were birds everywhere, multi-coloured. The blue of the sky was fading away. The clouds were being blown away like smoke. The grey was the new garb.

She decided not to wake herself up as it was quite a dream!

“I really love you...I really do,” she fondly remembered her drunken voice. She brushed aside the thought. It was little difficult to walk around now as the night had gathered all around her. The moonlight was decent but the dim darkness was slightly scary. Her eyes felt heavy. “Sleepy in a dream...now that’s funny,” she smiled.

“What happened before I was in the water?” She again jolted herself back from the thinking mode. She curled up against the tree, tying hard not to close her eyes.

She suddenly woke up with the humming sound of a cuckoo who was sitting really close to her. It looked at her in a way like he was eager to please its special guest.

“This dream will be worth remembering,” she thought.

“The last two years have been like two lives for me. They have been like heavy stones on my back while my back had a masochist personality! So what do you propose?” The memory of her drunken voice irritated her.

She tried to concentrate on the birds sitting close by. The stars had also begun to add glitter to the grey of the sky. It felt like a quiet, romantic party.

“Let’s just take off....in different directions,” she was confused as to whose voice it was. She got highly irritated this time and tried to nudge herself out of the dream.

Convinced it was over, she opened her eyes and saw the cuckoo still staring at her in amazement. The party was still on.

She was finally convinced.

“I want a new beginning...of everything,” she remembered the last thing she had wished for!

Smoking Man

The thought was so long,

It never would end.

He stretched it for hours and hours,

Years and years.

He sat on the table with his legs on the chair,

Against the window,

Away from it.

The book had no more pages.

The waves had no more noise.

He lit a cigerette and romanced the smoke.

He inhaled and inhaled and seldom exhaled.

But there was too much smoke in the room,

It cut across the window,

Headed for the sun.

The bright light was too dazzling,

He drew up the curtains.

There he sat in the room,

All by himself,

And the residual smoke.

Curled up in the thought.

The thought was so long,

It never would end.

Facebook is technologically challenged!

So this is how the story goes...My friend calls me up and says "what the fuck is up with ya. You are no longer single." First I thought either he has smoked up, or he is just too bored in life...n as far as I knew I was still not dating anybody (so technically m still "single" as far as i knew)...Then he revealed his source. It was Facebook who had declared to my list of friends that I was "no longer listed as single".

Now, technically it was true...I was no longer "listed" single on stupid Facebook...I had edited the Information block on Facebook and deleted all the personal info like my birthday and relationship status...So that gave me a news feed that you are no longer listed...blah blah blah....I immediately deleted it and presmed that if i am DELETING it that means i dont want it as a news feeed about me...But surely Facebook could not really comprehend what I was trying to convey...

So there goes a news feed to all my friends declaring that I am no longer listed blah blah blah...and most of my friends got happy or excited or curious or surprised or...So I got some messages, some pings on gmail, a wall post, some phone calls!... so not bad ha!

I term it as a "Facebook mishapp"... Anyways, it's just a funny incident n its kinda funny how a recluse like me actually had to define my "relationship status" to people....:)

I crib a bit too much.

Every morning I make a resolution only to break it at the twilight.

I walk on the sea waves and refuse to believe that its a mirage.

Take me to the door of earth,

I am looking for a new land.

No place is ever where I want to be!

I can't live one moment for a long time.

I need a moment for every moment.

I pick and throw them as and when I need.

I love love.

Love tells me I am volatile.

There is no control on the stars that fall,

I am but just a shadow in the sea.

I walk on the ground and look at the glass to feel that I am flying.

Make belief? Reality? Imagination? Dreams?

Don't confuse me.

I am already confused.

Let me be.

Shut

We are not going to sell Dreams anymore,
Shutting down the shop forever.
Everyone seems to just window-shop,
Nobody ever wants to buy.

They have been rotting for quite a long time.
They complain often.
They are sick of it.

There was an artificial twinkling light all over the shop,
Fancy glitter spread all over the stacks of Dreams.

People will scrape to find the walls, the windows,
But there will be none.
This shop is shut forever.
It is going be chaotic, but we will face it now.