It's one of those days
you know when sad songs touch your heart
it actually happened with a strange smile
an unknown face I wanted to explore
But then again my hands are tied
I am not allowed to wander
because you my friend have set the rules
that I am not allowed to break
so I simply wait for a storm
that will liberate me from this insanity
you call a relationship
so that I can go ahead in search of
that silly smile that had once touched my soul.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
well then
Drop by drop
One drop.
Two drops.
Three drops, four.
Five drops.
Six drops.
Seven drops more.
Eight drops.
Nine drops.
Ten drops, eleven.
Twelve drops, thirteen drops.
Fourteen drops again.
Fifteen drops.
Sixteen drops.
Seventeen drops, eighteen.
Nineteen Drops.
Twenty drops.
Twenty one seen.
Two drops.
Three drops, four.
Five drops.
Six drops.
Seven drops more.
Eight drops.
Nine drops.
Ten drops, eleven.
Twelve drops, thirteen drops.
Fourteen drops again.
Fifteen drops.
Sixteen drops.
Seventeen drops, eighteen.
Nineteen Drops.
Twenty drops.
Twenty one seen.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Blind man's buff
I can't make his see
That I'll walk the sands for him.
I'll travel strange places
Just for an address.
I can make evil disappear and drown
In his one momentary wink.
He doesn't see.
He won't know the pain behind the grin
That he thinks is so lovely.
He doesn't notice that a grin
Has its own tale that I don't want to tell.
But I want him to know anyway.
He doesn't see.
That I'll walk the sands for him.
I'll travel strange places
Just for an address.
I can make evil disappear and drown
In his one momentary wink.
He doesn't see.
He won't know the pain behind the grin
That he thinks is so lovely.
He doesn't notice that a grin
Has its own tale that I don't want to tell.
But I want him to know anyway.
He doesn't see.
If you're going to take my last breath,
Let it be when I'm with him.
Let it be in a lonely place,
Where there is no light,
And there's just us.
Let it be with the last wet kiss,
That is unknown to me,
And let there be no space between us.
The world can go to hell.
If I die tonight, let there be no difference,
Between love and hatred,
Let everything end with the last smile,
For that's how I'd like to go - in a moment.
Let everything end.
Let it be when I'm with him.
Let it be in a lonely place,
Where there is no light,
And there's just us.
Let it be with the last wet kiss,
That is unknown to me,
And let there be no space between us.
The world can go to hell.
If I die tonight, let there be no difference,
Between love and hatred,
Let everything end with the last smile,
For that's how I'd like to go - in a moment.
Let everything end.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Once again
I can't change things around.
I wish I could. But I cannot.
I can't go back to those days any more.
I wish I could. But I cannot.
So, don't say a word. Just sit here.
Don't touch me. I can't lose this moment.
I cannot imagine I am not with you in the first place
Let this not be a bitter reminder.
Can we be strangers? Can we be friends?
Can we be something that we were once not?
Yes, I love you - there is no shame in that.
But I can't go back to where we where.
Now, that is a shame.
I wish I could. But I cannot.
I can't go back to those days any more.
I wish I could. But I cannot.
So, don't say a word. Just sit here.
Don't touch me. I can't lose this moment.
I cannot imagine I am not with you in the first place
Let this not be a bitter reminder.
Can we be strangers? Can we be friends?
Can we be something that we were once not?
Yes, I love you - there is no shame in that.
But I can't go back to where we where.
Now, that is a shame.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
I've slain all the demons
I've slain all the demons inside your head
And let their blood drip dry on your porch
I've brought all the promises to your feet
And painstakingly snuffed out the eternal torch
And yet you laughed; in my face, that too
Tossing your proud head to the side
And spoke with such regretful condescension
That the earth was left split open, wide
Come back no more, you said to me vainly
Your perpetual slave of no good, that I was
My armour lay used and sword useless
It was a dark and stormy noon, 'twas
I did walk away, not a word was said
After such a long battle I was weary
Where does one like me find words to craft?
Except in love, war or apology
But there were no explanations
That I could possibly think of offering
That would mollify your crooked soul
So I just turned; no goodbyes even, in the leaving
And let their blood drip dry on your porch
I've brought all the promises to your feet
And painstakingly snuffed out the eternal torch
And yet you laughed; in my face, that too
Tossing your proud head to the side
And spoke with such regretful condescension
That the earth was left split open, wide
Come back no more, you said to me vainly
Your perpetual slave of no good, that I was
My armour lay used and sword useless
It was a dark and stormy noon, 'twas
I did walk away, not a word was said
After such a long battle I was weary
Where does one like me find words to craft?
Except in love, war or apology
But there were no explanations
That I could possibly think of offering
That would mollify your crooked soul
So I just turned; no goodbyes even, in the leaving
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
So close
The closest I've come to kissing him is sharing a cigarette
I've perhaps touched his hair for a brief moment to share the intimacy
That was there, only fleetingly, perhaps mostly in my head
As I hoped that night wouldn't end as we drove towards my home
It's been a while, since I wrote anything on him Or thought of him
I simply can't afford the strain that he causes in my brain
But it's not easy, staying away for too long, even though I try
I just wish I could say something, anything to give myself up
So as the wine filled up our evening, with a slight hint of red
I didn't recognise the words that came out my lips
This is not me. This is not me. I am not here, I shouted
But he didn't hear me. He wasn't listening. He was elsewhere
I've perhaps touched his hair for a brief moment to share the intimacy
That was there, only fleetingly, perhaps mostly in my head
As I hoped that night wouldn't end as we drove towards my home
It's been a while, since I wrote anything on him Or thought of him
I simply can't afford the strain that he causes in my brain
But it's not easy, staying away for too long, even though I try
I just wish I could say something, anything to give myself up
So as the wine filled up our evening, with a slight hint of red
I didn't recognise the words that came out my lips
This is not me. This is not me. I am not here, I shouted
But he didn't hear me. He wasn't listening. He was elsewhere
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Hide and seek
The long winding road didn't have an end. At least from where I was standing, I couldn't see anything. But there was silence. Absolute silence as I heard him run from a distance towards me. I was armed - with a folding knife that was more fatal than it looked. I was waiting for him to catch up. Streaks of blue and green lights passed by me as I looked up in curiosity. He caught up with me and we started running together. Was that a forest on our right? Could we disappear right into it? Good idea, he said. And as he jumped a few feet and ran straight into the darkness of the forest, the trees started clearing up. We can't hide here, he said. It's all a set up. No No. They're on to us, I screamed.
We ran as fast as we could, sometimes floating a few feet off the ground. And soon there were no more trees left to shelter us. The forest had disappeared.
It was before I could come up with another plan, he had spotted a small town, a few metres ahead. We ran towards it to find a place to hide.
They won't see this place, there are simply too many people here. he advised. I nodded in consent.
The first house was covered with green twines - it looked so lovely that at any other given time, I'd have offered the owner a price for it. But right now, we needed to hide.
I knocked on the door slightly, in my head it sounded like pounding. A frail old woman opened the door and pulled us in.
Why are you here? This is the wrong way. You should have taken the left instead of the right. And now the forest is gone, they will find us and you.
But there was nothing on the right, just a steep cliff.
Oh but you see, you could've climbed.
He could hear the running of a lot of feet - covered in boots that can smash a finger or two.
We need to hide, he whispered.
Come this way, said the old lady. She took us to a room and told us to jump into a well, covered with moss. Here? I asked. We could drown. Just go she said.
The two of us had no choice but to trust her. So we jumped. The long well swallowed us and soon we were plummeting through another opening and crashed into the side of an unknown street.
Looks like we're safe, he said. Then he took out his small dagger that gleamed at the hilt with all the stones that he'd found at another expedition. He turned towards me and said, it's been a really long journey. You must be tired.
But before I could say a word, he stabbed me. Right through the heart. I had a rerun of the entire episode in my head that went by in a flash - streaking lights, sounds of running feet, a long and winding road.
Where are you sending me, I asked him. You should have waited.
NO. This is where the road ends, at least for you, he said and ran off.
We ran as fast as we could, sometimes floating a few feet off the ground. And soon there were no more trees left to shelter us. The forest had disappeared.
It was before I could come up with another plan, he had spotted a small town, a few metres ahead. We ran towards it to find a place to hide.
They won't see this place, there are simply too many people here. he advised. I nodded in consent.
The first house was covered with green twines - it looked so lovely that at any other given time, I'd have offered the owner a price for it. But right now, we needed to hide.
I knocked on the door slightly, in my head it sounded like pounding. A frail old woman opened the door and pulled us in.
Why are you here? This is the wrong way. You should have taken the left instead of the right. And now the forest is gone, they will find us and you.
But there was nothing on the right, just a steep cliff.
Oh but you see, you could've climbed.
He could hear the running of a lot of feet - covered in boots that can smash a finger or two.
We need to hide, he whispered.
Come this way, said the old lady. She took us to a room and told us to jump into a well, covered with moss. Here? I asked. We could drown. Just go she said.
The two of us had no choice but to trust her. So we jumped. The long well swallowed us and soon we were plummeting through another opening and crashed into the side of an unknown street.
Looks like we're safe, he said. Then he took out his small dagger that gleamed at the hilt with all the stones that he'd found at another expedition. He turned towards me and said, it's been a really long journey. You must be tired.
But before I could say a word, he stabbed me. Right through the heart. I had a rerun of the entire episode in my head that went by in a flash - streaking lights, sounds of running feet, a long and winding road.
Where are you sending me, I asked him. You should have waited.
NO. This is where the road ends, at least for you, he said and ran off.
Distance
He holds in his heart a fiery kiss.
One that reminds him of the rain,
A silhouette that had walked past him,
A smile that stayed incomplete.
And in some corner of the country,
Bits and pieces of a memory came alive,
She clasped her tired hands together
And rubbed the scars off her mind.
The phone has been dead for years,
An empty shell covered with dust
Remained on the side board as a thought
Of all the days that had gone by.
She picked up to those pieces with care
Making sure the sides don't hurt
Folded them in an old faded letter
And dumped them on the side of the street.
He waited; there was so much to be said
Time was waiting for him, in silence,
Yet nothing came from him, not even a whisper
He was waiting for her to speak.
One that reminds him of the rain,
A silhouette that had walked past him,
A smile that stayed incomplete.
And in some corner of the country,
Bits and pieces of a memory came alive,
She clasped her tired hands together
And rubbed the scars off her mind.
The phone has been dead for years,
An empty shell covered with dust
Remained on the side board as a thought
Of all the days that had gone by.
She picked up to those pieces with care
Making sure the sides don't hurt
Folded them in an old faded letter
And dumped them on the side of the street.
He waited; there was so much to be said
Time was waiting for him, in silence,
Yet nothing came from him, not even a whisper
He was waiting for her to speak.
Friday, December 21, 2007
What the...
Cardinal rule of going out: ALWAYS read the prices on the menu.
I am going against all ground rules (mine!) by saying this but boy oh boy, I take back all my words and probably will go and pay my respects to all those people who wouldn't order before checking the right side of the menu.
For those who live in Bangalore, Legends of Rock is a favourite hangout of many. It's been around for a while, doesn't believe in the hip-hop shit that's being played lately. Anyway, this place also is rather affordable than most. So about seven of us happy souls went tripping there sometime back and had ourselves the merriest time.
We talked about many things - good and bad and continued drinking till they told us that they were closing down.
Then came the bill: I have never seen a bill like that. It was only 17 freaking thousand rupees.
That's when the thunder struck and we were all killed instantly.
Not true.
We paid. We checked the bill first and then paid.
We've promised never to pay a bill like that again. Either we fight for the rights we don't have or drink at home.
I am going against all ground rules (mine!) by saying this but boy oh boy, I take back all my words and probably will go and pay my respects to all those people who wouldn't order before checking the right side of the menu.
For those who live in Bangalore, Legends of Rock is a favourite hangout of many. It's been around for a while, doesn't believe in the hip-hop shit that's being played lately. Anyway, this place also is rather affordable than most. So about seven of us happy souls went tripping there sometime back and had ourselves the merriest time.
We talked about many things - good and bad and continued drinking till they told us that they were closing down.
Then came the bill: I have never seen a bill like that. It was only 17 freaking thousand rupees.
That's when the thunder struck and we were all killed instantly.
Not true.
We paid. We checked the bill first and then paid.
We've promised never to pay a bill like that again. Either we fight for the rights we don't have or drink at home.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Replacement
I saw the tea tree oil
trickling down the side of the bottle
Must be expensive, I thought
And yet, you shrugged it off
The shoe had lost it's crystals
The ones that lined the strap
It was expensive I know
And yet, you pouted in nonchalance
Your silks, jewels and make-up
Lay scattered in different places
A shawl carried a spot of blood too
I was convinced that you'd lost your mind
And while you stood, arms akimbo, brows together
I wondered if I could even clean this mess up
You just asked if people had heard anything
And then went back to all the thinking
I had to find the broom myself; and the mop
I folded your things and arranged them neatly
And without a single slur of thanks or gratitude
You just left the flat, never to return
There I was, sitting on your couch
My hands folded neatly on my lap
I waited till the police came and found me
Sitting next to your lover's corpse
trickling down the side of the bottle
Must be expensive, I thought
And yet, you shrugged it off
The shoe had lost it's crystals
The ones that lined the strap
It was expensive I know
And yet, you pouted in nonchalance
Your silks, jewels and make-up
Lay scattered in different places
A shawl carried a spot of blood too
I was convinced that you'd lost your mind
And while you stood, arms akimbo, brows together
I wondered if I could even clean this mess up
You just asked if people had heard anything
And then went back to all the thinking
I had to find the broom myself; and the mop
I folded your things and arranged them neatly
And without a single slur of thanks or gratitude
You just left the flat, never to return
There I was, sitting on your couch
My hands folded neatly on my lap
I waited till the police came and found me
Sitting next to your lover's corpse
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Got a problem?
It's not easy - playing an agony aunt. You have to be prepared almost any time of the day and have the answers ready. Saying, "I am not sure about what to say" doesn't go down very well with those who depend on you for the 'solution'.
I've played this role - for a long time too. I don't remember at which point it started but soon I was bearing secrets that were getting simply too much to handle. Maybe that is why I'm simply incapable of shedding all the extra weight; I mean where are all the secrets going to go?
A couple friend (at least they used to be friends) are going through a rather rough time. In fact, one of them is so rough that I'm surprised the other hasn't sued her for abuse. While I was privy to what was going on initially, circumstances found me an escape route and now I just sit back at nod gravely whenever I hear something from that department. Trust me, for once I am actually happy that I have NOTHING to do with them. An occasional hello at parties that are few and far between are fine by me.
Being friends is a difficult job - you cannot be separated from their problems because you are a part of their lives (if you're close friends that is) and whatever you/they do affects all those involved. Such is the troubles of having close friends.
For many years, I shied away from letting anyone too close. Recently, a young thing who is probably gearing up to make friends with me told me that I must have gone through too much pain as a child, facing betrayals and blah..blah..blah..
Well who hasn't had a few troubles in life? Mine are no exceptions but that hasn't made me Albert Camus' Outsider. I just don't feel like going through the whole circle of having to put up with different pains and then looking for ways to solve them because my 'friends' are simply too lazy or stupid.
I am glad I did that - because now, I have a few friends ( I can't count them on my fingers) whom I've very grateful for. I am glad I have them in my life and don't want to trade them for anything. They do come to me with their problems at time, but I don't feel burdened by them. We often laugh about it, talk about it and look for ways out together - which is absolutely the way I like it.
Sometimes, when I look back and think of all those people I'd truly cared for and how they chose to walk away from my life, I am glad they aren't there any more anyway. It used to be quite a bother - and in the fear of being totally 'friendless' I clung on to them when I would've given my soul to push them over the edge of a really tall building because all they did for the friendship was use my intelligence and pass it off as their own and in the process get on my nerves.
This of course, has passed! Amen.
I've played this role - for a long time too. I don't remember at which point it started but soon I was bearing secrets that were getting simply too much to handle. Maybe that is why I'm simply incapable of shedding all the extra weight; I mean where are all the secrets going to go?
A couple friend (at least they used to be friends) are going through a rather rough time. In fact, one of them is so rough that I'm surprised the other hasn't sued her for abuse. While I was privy to what was going on initially, circumstances found me an escape route and now I just sit back at nod gravely whenever I hear something from that department. Trust me, for once I am actually happy that I have NOTHING to do with them. An occasional hello at parties that are few and far between are fine by me.
Being friends is a difficult job - you cannot be separated from their problems because you are a part of their lives (if you're close friends that is) and whatever you/they do affects all those involved. Such is the troubles of having close friends.
For many years, I shied away from letting anyone too close. Recently, a young thing who is probably gearing up to make friends with me told me that I must have gone through too much pain as a child, facing betrayals and blah..blah..blah..
Well who hasn't had a few troubles in life? Mine are no exceptions but that hasn't made me Albert Camus' Outsider. I just don't feel like going through the whole circle of having to put up with different pains and then looking for ways to solve them because my 'friends' are simply too lazy or stupid.
I am glad I did that - because now, I have a few friends ( I can't count them on my fingers) whom I've very grateful for. I am glad I have them in my life and don't want to trade them for anything. They do come to me with their problems at time, but I don't feel burdened by them. We often laugh about it, talk about it and look for ways out together - which is absolutely the way I like it.
Sometimes, when I look back and think of all those people I'd truly cared for and how they chose to walk away from my life, I am glad they aren't there any more anyway. It used to be quite a bother - and in the fear of being totally 'friendless' I clung on to them when I would've given my soul to push them over the edge of a really tall building because all they did for the friendship was use my intelligence and pass it off as their own and in the process get on my nerves.
This of course, has passed! Amen.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Facebooking
I am on facebook. Have been on it for a while. Do I enjoy it- well most certainly.
Do I like the fact that I enjoy it? I am not so sure anymore.
One thing - it's addictive. And therefore, it initiates a lot of argument. And that can be annoying.
Secondly, I don't want to get into a food fight, bite vampires and zombies and try to race a non existent car (when in reality I can't even drive). But I do it all. Why? Because I think I must. It's psychosomatic disorder that makes me believe that my life will be incomplete if I don't 'check in to' my facebook account at least twice a day.
If you've taken the trouble to land here and actually read this crap - then you have the liberty to think I'm crazy. Go ahead. No one can stop you.
But you don't know what it's like. I need to know if my vampire is safe, or if someone has crashed my car, or if the growing gift is growing or not.
I also need to know if my friends think I'm better looking than 'X' or if I'm likely to sell my soul for a donut. And of course, I need to know if my friends would rather hang out with me or the girl who I'm not particularly fond of.
So dear friends, life is full of responsibilities.
And before I go hang myself for being so completely inane - let me tell you one thing... Facebook is god's gift to mankind. Here, we can be nice to people we actually hate or be rude to strangers without giving a damn...
Est bien!
Do I like the fact that I enjoy it? I am not so sure anymore.
One thing - it's addictive. And therefore, it initiates a lot of argument. And that can be annoying.
Secondly, I don't want to get into a food fight, bite vampires and zombies and try to race a non existent car (when in reality I can't even drive). But I do it all. Why? Because I think I must. It's psychosomatic disorder that makes me believe that my life will be incomplete if I don't 'check in to' my facebook account at least twice a day.
If you've taken the trouble to land here and actually read this crap - then you have the liberty to think I'm crazy. Go ahead. No one can stop you.
But you don't know what it's like. I need to know if my vampire is safe, or if someone has crashed my car, or if the growing gift is growing or not.
I also need to know if my friends think I'm better looking than 'X' or if I'm likely to sell my soul for a donut. And of course, I need to know if my friends would rather hang out with me or the girl who I'm not particularly fond of.
So dear friends, life is full of responsibilities.
And before I go hang myself for being so completely inane - let me tell you one thing... Facebook is god's gift to mankind. Here, we can be nice to people we actually hate or be rude to strangers without giving a damn...
Est bien!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The Boy
Many years ago, a time when there were no milestones
For me to record the things I remember in flashes
I met a boy. Rather accidentally I must say
It began with the letters we wrote to each other
Every now and then, on writing paper
Sealed in envelopes. Often coloured
The letters were like life's notes
That I regret losing. But they were cherished
And received with much love and affection
There came a time when I met that boy
Again, purely by chance. And perhaps providence
Had a little bit of a role to play as well
We connected. At least that's what I'd like to think
We didn't meet that often again. But continued writing
And now I realise, it was love
I haven't seen that boy in many many years
So much has changed since then, I'm even afraid
To face him, this way again
He lives in some other country. We see each other
Virtually and that too, so rarely that I can hardly breathe
When a slight hello appears on my screen
I miss that boy. Even though we can't be friends
The way I thought we were. A part of me continues
To regret losing him to the life that he chose
For me to record the things I remember in flashes
I met a boy. Rather accidentally I must say
It began with the letters we wrote to each other
Every now and then, on writing paper
Sealed in envelopes. Often coloured
The letters were like life's notes
That I regret losing. But they were cherished
And received with much love and affection
There came a time when I met that boy
Again, purely by chance. And perhaps providence
Had a little bit of a role to play as well
We connected. At least that's what I'd like to think
We didn't meet that often again. But continued writing
And now I realise, it was love
I haven't seen that boy in many many years
So much has changed since then, I'm even afraid
To face him, this way again
He lives in some other country. We see each other
Virtually and that too, so rarely that I can hardly breathe
When a slight hello appears on my screen
I miss that boy. Even though we can't be friends
The way I thought we were. A part of me continues
To regret losing him to the life that he chose
To be funny or not to be funny
One of the most important things I have to learn is to take a joke as well as I can dish it out. I've been told (and that too on more than one occasion) that I have no capacity to laugh at myself. I am not so sure about it though. Being the brunt of a joke and a bad one at that doesn't tickle my funny bone - so I can't laugh.
Coming to the point, I haven't used a public phone in a really long time. And to be honest, I was rather tempted to use one when I saw it right before me.. probably because at that precise moment I had two shiny one rupee coins in my pocket. When you're smoking and idling away, bad things happen to a wicked brain like mine. Am I nasty? Maybe.
So I made that silly call. And played a silly prank on a colleague that I shouldn't even think of playing a prank on, mostly because I have no clue of her capacity to handle in case it got out. Which, of course it did.
Stretching a bad thing too far, I even borrowed a ten rupee note from my friend and exchanged it for more coins and prolonged a conversation that I could've simply cut short while it was good.
I wasn't alone in this... but then again, I was the one who made that call.
So she was upset - terribly upset. And I wasn't around when the thing fell apart. In a way, secretively, I am glad I came in later and apologised.
Many thoughts came to me. "It was just a joke." "Why can't she take a silly prank in her stride?" "C'mon, she can't be crying over something as inane as this!" and such.
As defiant as I may be, I can't deny the tinge of guilt that I felt.
I've been teased - many a times - and to be honest, I can only put up with so much. Being bullied is not something I am used to and sometimes, I do lose my cool and react quite strongly.
It's not about taking a joke well, it's about saying, "So far and no more."
How does one stand being taken for granted? Is that what I did to someone else? Darn!
Coming to the point, I haven't used a public phone in a really long time. And to be honest, I was rather tempted to use one when I saw it right before me.. probably because at that precise moment I had two shiny one rupee coins in my pocket. When you're smoking and idling away, bad things happen to a wicked brain like mine. Am I nasty? Maybe.
So I made that silly call. And played a silly prank on a colleague that I shouldn't even think of playing a prank on, mostly because I have no clue of her capacity to handle in case it got out. Which, of course it did.
Stretching a bad thing too far, I even borrowed a ten rupee note from my friend and exchanged it for more coins and prolonged a conversation that I could've simply cut short while it was good.
I wasn't alone in this... but then again, I was the one who made that call.
So she was upset - terribly upset. And I wasn't around when the thing fell apart. In a way, secretively, I am glad I came in later and apologised.
Many thoughts came to me. "It was just a joke." "Why can't she take a silly prank in her stride?" "C'mon, she can't be crying over something as inane as this!" and such.
As defiant as I may be, I can't deny the tinge of guilt that I felt.
I've been teased - many a times - and to be honest, I can only put up with so much. Being bullied is not something I am used to and sometimes, I do lose my cool and react quite strongly.
It's not about taking a joke well, it's about saying, "So far and no more."
How does one stand being taken for granted? Is that what I did to someone else? Darn!
Friday, November 02, 2007
I am pretty okay with handling bad relationships. I think it comes with experience. Like they say - practice makes perfect?
But then there are some relationships, the ones that are neither here nor there that confuse me completely. And I'm bad with confusion. Earlier, I'd do something rather silly to get over that confusion; mostly indulge in rather flippant relationships to tide over the bad period. But now that I'm hitched... blah blah blah.. and that it should give me a sense of security and I should remain ever faithful.
I thought a good way to get rid of confusion (this time) is to get it out of my system.
I've been married almost five years. And no, contrary to what I declare most of the time, it doesn't feel like a lifetime - at least, not yet.
But I had a life before this. A life, which may not have much consequence to most people but it was a mix of the good and bad, like everyone else's. At least, everyone who's maybe normal. (Like me?)
I've had one really long relationship before that. It was, well, a little bizarre if I can put it that way. It brought me tremendous joy and I did experience sudden rushes of excitement and a more constant sense of happiness most of the time. But then it fell apart. Perhaps it was my fault, I am not entirely sure. Maybe both of us were to blame.
But I'm talking of a life before that. And one that ran in parallel.
A friend, (lover?) confidante, soul mate - someone who's been intrinsic to my life. Well, to be honest, I actually couldn't imagine that I would land up with anyone else. I have never cherished any relationship as much as I do this. In fact, I couldn't really cherish any other because of this one. In the end, well like all fairy tales I've imagined, this one didn't end up happily ever after.
There can be no happily ever after for us. Even if I were single.
He and I had made plans. Of a life together - without the slightest inclination of making it come true. Though deep inside my silly little head, I did want it all. But like they say, "you don't get everything you want."
To be honest, I didn't really want anything from him. And I still don't. In fact, i don't even want the friendship.
But what I also don't want is the way he treats the whole thing.
I don't like being treated as a trivial thing of the past. present. Or the future.
I don't like being told that I'm being 'unfair'.
I don't like being told that we can go back to being 'just friends' when we've crossed that fucking bridge like aeons ago.
I am not even expecting anything... then why the hell am I putting up with his nonchalance? And why the fuck does he take me for granted - after all these years. Or is it because it's been so many years?
I wonder...
But then there are some relationships, the ones that are neither here nor there that confuse me completely. And I'm bad with confusion. Earlier, I'd do something rather silly to get over that confusion; mostly indulge in rather flippant relationships to tide over the bad period. But now that I'm hitched... blah blah blah.. and that it should give me a sense of security and I should remain ever faithful.
I thought a good way to get rid of confusion (this time) is to get it out of my system.
I've been married almost five years. And no, contrary to what I declare most of the time, it doesn't feel like a lifetime - at least, not yet.
But I had a life before this. A life, which may not have much consequence to most people but it was a mix of the good and bad, like everyone else's. At least, everyone who's maybe normal. (Like me?)
I've had one really long relationship before that. It was, well, a little bizarre if I can put it that way. It brought me tremendous joy and I did experience sudden rushes of excitement and a more constant sense of happiness most of the time. But then it fell apart. Perhaps it was my fault, I am not entirely sure. Maybe both of us were to blame.
But I'm talking of a life before that. And one that ran in parallel.
A friend, (lover?) confidante, soul mate - someone who's been intrinsic to my life. Well, to be honest, I actually couldn't imagine that I would land up with anyone else. I have never cherished any relationship as much as I do this. In fact, I couldn't really cherish any other because of this one. In the end, well like all fairy tales I've imagined, this one didn't end up happily ever after.
There can be no happily ever after for us. Even if I were single.
He and I had made plans. Of a life together - without the slightest inclination of making it come true. Though deep inside my silly little head, I did want it all. But like they say, "you don't get everything you want."
To be honest, I didn't really want anything from him. And I still don't. In fact, i don't even want the friendship.
But what I also don't want is the way he treats the whole thing.
I don't like being treated as a trivial thing of the past. present. Or the future.
I don't like being told that I'm being 'unfair'.
I don't like being told that we can go back to being 'just friends' when we've crossed that fucking bridge like aeons ago.
I am not even expecting anything... then why the hell am I putting up with his nonchalance? And why the fuck does he take me for granted - after all these years. Or is it because it's been so many years?
I wonder...
never again
Now it is possible to survive without love. You don't need it. One, it doesn't exist. If you're getting bad sex, you'll fall out of love in no time. So, it doesn't exist. Two, it's very pointless, because it really doesn't put food on the table.
So, it doesn't exist. Point made.
So, it doesn't exist. Point made.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Bong ha ha
I was reading this blog (www.thebangaloretorpedo.blogspot.com) today, thanks to my friend Sunayana, and thought it was rather hilarious. I think everyone should read it.
I came across this post on Bengalis, which I found to be the funniest I've read in a long time. And that brings to be the film The Bong Connection. Anjan Dutt tried real hard to get us bengalis to take a joke, to rise above our conceited selves and realise that we too, are as foolish as any other person from any other country or community.
There are at least few hundred million bengalis living in 'Bengal'uru.. They come here with the IT wave and settle down. They wear their Fabindia kurtas, drink scotch, talk sartre and tagore and eat 'machher jhol bhaat'. And they cuss like hell ( I won't say I haven't done it too). They talk about how Bangalore has no culture blah blah blah.
I don't like Bangalore as a city very much, but to be honest, it does surprise me every now and then in a rather pleasant way. I hate the auto rickshaws here, they cheat and they don't want to drive that goddamn thing most of the time. In Calcutta, we don't have an option, the auto guys ply like buses - fixed destination, fixed price.
I love that city, and that's because I was born there. I guess it would be true for any city I was born in. I love Mumbai too, I spent two of my best years in that place.
Why can I not fall in love with Bangalore? I have been here for four years and I still feel like a stranger at times. I sincerely wonder why!
I came across this post on Bengalis, which I found to be the funniest I've read in a long time. And that brings to be the film The Bong Connection. Anjan Dutt tried real hard to get us bengalis to take a joke, to rise above our conceited selves and realise that we too, are as foolish as any other person from any other country or community.
There are at least few hundred million bengalis living in 'Bengal'uru.. They come here with the IT wave and settle down. They wear their Fabindia kurtas, drink scotch, talk sartre and tagore and eat 'machher jhol bhaat'. And they cuss like hell ( I won't say I haven't done it too). They talk about how Bangalore has no culture blah blah blah.
I don't like Bangalore as a city very much, but to be honest, it does surprise me every now and then in a rather pleasant way. I hate the auto rickshaws here, they cheat and they don't want to drive that goddamn thing most of the time. In Calcutta, we don't have an option, the auto guys ply like buses - fixed destination, fixed price.
I love that city, and that's because I was born there. I guess it would be true for any city I was born in. I love Mumbai too, I spent two of my best years in that place.
Why can I not fall in love with Bangalore? I have been here for four years and I still feel like a stranger at times. I sincerely wonder why!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Lies
I often don't know what to say to him. What do you tell someone you've known forever and yet cannot get used to?
What do you tell someone you've loved deeply and then walked out?
What do you say to erase the past in the hope of a fresh start? A start that will never be the way it used to be. A compromised restart.
What can you possibly say when you have so much to say that words fail you?
When is a good time?
When he is asleep? or busy with work? Would a letter do the trick?
What could you possibly do when he's a million miles away from you and time has managed to draw so many lines between the two of you that you have no way of knowing how to get over it.
Would you forget everything and let the memory serve its purpose? Would you allow a sliver of hope enter your mind? What would you look for? A lover? A friend?
Lies work. They are brilliant pieces of stories woven together to create this fantastic epic - of how it wouldn't have worked anyway; that he is totally not the kind of person you should be with. And I've lived that lie... everyday till it didn't make a difference.
And now, after so many years, I've allowed the truth to fade away. Now what I want is him, in some form or the other. It doesn't matter anymore. It cannot. But I would be dishonest if I said it is easy.
What do you tell someone you've loved deeply and then walked out?
What do you say to erase the past in the hope of a fresh start? A start that will never be the way it used to be. A compromised restart.
What can you possibly say when you have so much to say that words fail you?
When is a good time?
When he is asleep? or busy with work? Would a letter do the trick?
What could you possibly do when he's a million miles away from you and time has managed to draw so many lines between the two of you that you have no way of knowing how to get over it.
Would you forget everything and let the memory serve its purpose? Would you allow a sliver of hope enter your mind? What would you look for? A lover? A friend?
Lies work. They are brilliant pieces of stories woven together to create this fantastic epic - of how it wouldn't have worked anyway; that he is totally not the kind of person you should be with. And I've lived that lie... everyday till it didn't make a difference.
And now, after so many years, I've allowed the truth to fade away. Now what I want is him, in some form or the other. It doesn't matter anymore. It cannot. But I would be dishonest if I said it is easy.
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