Friday, August 03, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Last night my diamond ring glistened within you
And now my blood is spilt and the writing is on the wall.
Hooded mob walk the streets and death threats fly home,
For one cupful of frenzied love I sold my freedom for a song.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Summer like corners open up in the room
Windows bang open with the salty breeze
And every evening looks like rain
As I drive home through a deserted summer street.
The verandas open to the blue green mango tree
From where the cuckoo bird entices me.
My mom plays god with sugar cubes
And the kitchen now smells of lemon tea.
Summer springs up in empty alcoves
And the purple month turns green
And soon many leaves will die a death
But for now they shimmer in the new summer breeze.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
My memory begins when I was almost 3 years old.
I have 3 Fahrenheit tees which I bought in a pack of 3...peach, grey and navy blue.
3 things that scare me:
Plane crashing with me or my family in them
That I will never get pregnant.
3 people who make me laugh:Pranav my bestest friend in the whole wide world.
3 things I love:The colour orange
Power cuts so the whole family can sit together and talk.
3 things I hate:Shallow people who lie to themselves
3 things I don't understand:
Quantum physics…..umm...Even elementary physics
Why people delude themselves
How racists and homophobes and other discriminators live with themselves.
3 things on my desk:Lot of orangey yellow things……had balloons for a long time
A statuette of an African woman carrying 2 kids
A witch’s hat
3 things I'm doing right now:When and how and to whom will I get married
The times I spent with Pranav and how they were the end of childhood and are my first memories of adulthood.
About how much money I can save at the end of this year.
3 things I want to do before I die:Have a daughter
Create my own family and its fables
Buy my own house
3 things I can do
Write gorgeous letters
Type moderately fast with 4 fingers….sorry mavis beacon
3 things you should never listen to:
Religious preaching…of any religion……..long enough and you will start believing them
Music too loud…I get migraine
Anyone you don’t respect.
3 things I'd like to learn:Painting
3 fav. foods:Momo s
Magi………also anything with cheese on it,
3 beverages I drink regularly:Soy milk
3 TV shows/Books I watched/read as a kid:The butterfly island on star plus
Small wonder…also the wonder years.
3 people I tag:Tupai
If they still read the blog that is.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Have not lived away from family for more than 15 days …in my life.
I love my father.
Yesterday was the first day I stayed alone at home.
Am capable of handling a lot…more than I thought I could. Yesterday, the lock on my main door got stuck and we had to break open the door…which took 1 hour. And my dog was stuck inside the house…awwww.
I am completely capable of taking care of home and myself And Can cook well enough to sustain life…..mine and my dog’s.
Still can be brutally honest and Ears still go hot as I prepare to be mean.
I had jaundice recently and have lost a lot of weight and vomited 50 times in a week.
I think I am ready to get married.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
I punch hard into thin air and fall on my face
Beauty warm beauty is now all muddy
And nobody gives me a hand
And I pretend that it’s all fine
And prepare to go back to my glass palace
Doll’s house friends call it.
I knock at my window and the whole house breaks down
Someone threw the second stone
And I punch again and this time I don’t fall
Who makes the same mistake twice?
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
So you and I now dream the same dream
And we walk the same streets every night
And the street lamps know us
For In groups of 76 we roam the streets
For they have promised to keep our secret too.
So we roam the little blind alleys
The lanes now a part of a poor man’s home
And we roam the streets as if in a silent vigil
In groups of 76 we roam the streets
And pretend it’s just a nightly stroll
Pretend we don’t know what the others are doing.
But we dream the same dreams
The same one armed dreams
And wake up on the same foot path
And we go back home and pretend again.
Old beggars sigh with relief and reclaim their space.
And smile for they know our dreams
And the shame the one armed men bring to us every night.