Thursday, December 31, 2009
read the Telegraph
what could it mean?
I woke up at 3
having dreamt of pumpkins
what could it mean?
She clutched me hard
while crying for him
what could it mean?
9 million bicycles
she called it
what could it mean?
I smoked 5 cigarettes
while waiting for your call
what could it mean?
You said 'Like'
not love, and then cried
what could it mean?
He drummed your fingers
on my sternum
what could it mean?
Monday, December 28, 2009
has its own joys,
thought the lil boy of 17.
marijuana dice fall free,
the room starts smelling of
winter nights; men and their
wood fires, burning rubbish
in my ignoble city. Rolling in
her dark room, with a sliver
beneath the door, has its own joys,
Sundays finish up my new freedoms,
and the cup now tilts; she clucks
like the mother hen, admonishes me.
The lil boy of 17 in me chuckles in glee.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
you flinched at its familiarity.
Rose colored glasses still perched
I gazed on with young-girl eyes.
Chandeliers floated up to listen in
and you so easily let them in our story.
Young boys recounted their lives with glee,
I curled my masochistic toes in lust.
Winter scarves lay nearby smelling of you,
blueberries and strawberries flitter-fluttered.
My nicotine stained fingers looked for a lifeline,
as you sat in the sun and let me down gently.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
(what ever that is)
I see within
Cold water splashing
your eyes now
bright and wise,
God glistenning within your pupils.
has not yet
snatched the divine
on my knees
(the alter forgotten)
at your bedroom door.
You make tea
turn on the toaster
and tighten your terricot robe
Sunday, June 28, 2009
July is almost here and soon august will be too. 1 year since you died rosh! And I still talk to you. I am beginning to mention you in conversations and people freeze a little everytime. My birthday Rosh, do you remember the last one? Beginning of the end really! So many signs, we just dint see. That Thursday, I wanted to tell you not to leave, but instead we discussed turtles and CSAT. I dreamt of you 2 days back and cried in my sleep. We were where I usually am in my dreams, my school. Babe! I rejoiced in your love for me. At its fullness, at its unconditionalness. You were my first death and you weren’t here to help me deal with it. Baby, I never said, I am completely in love with you! Am sorry I never said but I know you knew. So much more I want to write to you. We were the ones for reminiscing na? But I want to stop before am too sad. I think you will be happy to see the changes I am making to my life. Ironically, if you were alive, I wouldn’t have left Google or the people. In your death Roshni Poshni, I seek meaning.
I quit. A year too late? Totally! But just in time before I died some more of a plastic death. Did I hate all of them? No …mostly I was surprised at being wondered about. And that I was scary or just intimidating. Why did I fail to see that side of me? I think its my complete neuroticism, my complete self-awareness. Should I evaluate? What I lost and what I gained? I lost a mostly. 2 friends, some of my innocence. Some ideas and creativity leaked out of my intestines, slowly. I gained an aura of inapproachability, a reputation, both befuddled me. Will I miss it? Do I miss anything? Not really…the people, the ghosts? Am I leaving roshni behind? Can I even ask that? Don’t I know that answer?
Mri Nabo Saran Mani, I will try not to forget them, I will try to keep in touch, to keep them alive. I made friends of them when I thought I was too dead to make any. That’s important. I have been ridding myself of any extra baggage which has kept me from loving. Envious, stupid friends who leeched on me, eating up my energy and giving me nothing back. I leave you here. Insensitive friends who pretended to love me all the while rejoicing in my pain. I leave you here.
Gossip mongers of Google, read me. I’ll keep you abreast of me. I hate you guys for not having the courage to speak to me about me. I would have given you an year’s supply of scandal…ha ha…
What will I miss of these 3 years? I can't believe that the answer is still the same. Sir, you were like my father to me, more so because I was not born to you. You are Google to me. I will never forget you. I believe you like me too. I hope 2 years later, you will not forget my name and say,"her name started with an A, she was an optimizer.” :)
Do I want to name any people I hated in my blog? Oh! I hated so many of you! Sylvestor ass! You are one ugly dude, inside and outside! People I liked, some of you knew that but for the most of you I was shy. Yes! Me!
Hamsi, I love you! Preetha, I liked you, albeit at the end. Itsax, I never knew you but I always wanted to. Sundeep Paul, you are a sweetheart! Thank you for the innumerable cigarettes you lend me and for you awesome earphones. The others, if I looked or smiled at you, I liked you, if I looked through you, I didn’t. The 2 men I found attractive enough to make an effort to speak to you. I will miss seeing you around. :) The one woman I found just lovely, you will never know :(
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Secrets make little pitter patter paths
Blue green and yellow, all colours of the
Rainbow. I follow in its footsteps. From the
Glass rooms, from the woods, from the
Concrete. Sometimes I tire, sometimes I admire
But always I die a little more death. Till my
Heart smells of mothballs. Its Time I stop and
smell out different kind tree for me.
Bye bye my secret world. Bye bye and good riddance
you beautiful monster.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
It’s as if 3 years have passed and I was asleep all this while. And once the decision was made, I just woke up from a fretful and cold slumber that had morphed me into something staid and intimidating and scary. And once more I wish to be free. Once more I need to be open and out and loud and loving and wanting. Are you ready for me? Am I?
Monday, June 01, 2009
I wasn’t really interested this time around. Not after a heart-breaking last year I had. But I watched. How could I not? Mid-Summer, blazing sun, boring Sundays. Where else could we go? What else could we watch. The lure of cool interiors, the inviting cold beer, big screen T.Vs, (a very good looking Sameer Kochhar ) and we were hooked. And we started watching IPL season 2. I hadn’t meant to, but thank god I did, for my little city won to erase the ignominy of last year.
I am a very pessimistic, superstitious person when it comes to cricket. I am such a stereotype when it comes to cricket. For the Border-Gavaskar 2000-2001 Chennai match, I stayed in my bedroom and tried to study political science. Everytime I emerged, Indian wickets fell. My sis and Mom banished me and I stayed in praying cos we were winning against Australia and it all depended on me! I still believe that.
Last Sunday the Deccan Chargers Played Royal Challengers. My sister, my friends and I hung out on 10d Bar stools and kept our fingers crossed and prayed. I prayed with my head bowed and hands clasped and looked up to see the owner of the franchisee in the same stance. The owner and the fan, were we praying for different ends? Money v/s Simple Victory? Did it matter? Weren’t we all participating in a religious ritual/warfare here? Do the advertisements reduce cricket’s sanctity? Not for me. And not for the hyderabadis at 10 d that Sunday. Or for the 4 bangaloreans.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Is it only me? Or Are you too completely swamped with nostalgia and feeling the bitter sweetness that was high school? Do you also try to cast your mind back to that age and time and you return with a handful of nothings that meant life or death a decade ago? Do you also wish you could go back and then shudder for now we know too much to go back to that? Have we left our innocence at the turn of the millennium? If you have answered yes to one or more to these troubling questions and if you are the type who enjoys a good weep at a heart touching romance, and if you are the type who likes anime, I would suggest Love com or ‘Lovely Complex’
It’s a very relatable anime I chanced upon last year this time. Me and my sister fell in with it completely. And whenever I feel down, I go back to it. It’s very brief. 1 season 24 or so episodes.
Read more about it here.
May be I am about to die.
I am getting these flashes of cherry blossom trees. Lakeside in the evening. Cloudy skies. Empty streets. Warm breeze. Roadside tea. And mirchibhajji.
I hoped it was the future and heaven.
But now I know.
it’s only Yercaud.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Every evening I take my now accustomed road back home and I think of you. To fill you and me with thoughts those surround me this evening. My heart chokes and I long to feel the heat engulf me and the hot air of my lonely city to parch my skin and make my eyes water, with heat and easily remembered yarns of my past life. Lonely grey-green trees stand by and suffer the summer. Every evening I make a promise to spin those yarns about my city, my childhood, and my memories. All that is now my melancholia, my nostalgia. The summer in my city has its own personality. A visitor is always surprised by the Deccan summer. The mornings are quick to blossom and sultry. I stand under the shower, eyes still shut with sleep and hot water pours down. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon slowly calms me down as I get ready to live away another day. It’s just 6:30 am. A short and silent cab ride to hell where the weather doesn’t matter and it is eternally cold, and I am cold too, not on the outside, but the inside and I breakfast on the spoils of war at the loner’s corner. It’s 9 and I have spoken not a word. Enough of that.
Every evening I take my now accustomed road back home and I think of you. To fill you and me with thoughts those surrounded me that evening. Evenings here are balmy and breezy. The people who were inside (wherever that may be) come out to feel as the sun sets. They come out to belong, we come out to share horror stories about the weather, the heat, the sweat or the lack of it and people dying of sunstroke. Was it 43’c yesterday? 45’c in Warangal? We win the weather forecast on every channel with the highest predicted temperature and we lose at the humidity.
Ineffective summer showers pitter patters on the over-worked A.C and the summer painted terrace. My poor dog with a perpetual black coat barks in delirium at the rain. And then at its short-livedness. The 15 minute rain and the accompanied 20 minute powercut both over, my room now artificially chilled. The A.C cools my hair and I forget the completely still, hot night that reigns over my poor city. Instead I dream of clouds, snow and other improbable things.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Its that kind of evening again
Nothing is safe now
Jackfruits and more burst
And more and more ripe
And the smell this evening
Such evenings are just not
Safe for you my little girl
Someone as young and fragile
As you my little girl
And such things stir in me
That heightens this evening
And your brown brown hands
Red full lips midnight eyes
Beckon me, they do
They do beckon me and
You dance just ahead of my eyes
And your family waits for you
Hurry home to your mamma
Little girl, my little girl
Do you see those eyes over the hedge
covet your brown brown skin
hurry hurry home hurry
home my little brown girl
your mumma waits for you
milk gets colder as a glass on the table
she waits at the door and calls
out to you, her pretty girl of just 13
and here you are dancing in front
of these dirty brown eyes
you are dancing in front of me
Over my fence under my window
you jump and skip and run
over my enticing summerfields
my sunflower fields seduce you
and you slow down as your mumma
waits at the door for her pretty girl of 13
It happened just 67 steps from home
And you were snatched and don’t cry
It was not your fault and you will go to the gods
And its all the way to hell for me
For what I did to your brown skin
And you were just a pretty girl of 13
Those 67 steps you didn’t cover
my little pretty girl of 13
now you will never come home
and your mother knew this would
happen someday to someone as
pretty as her daughter of just 13
under my fields and my soil you lie,
my little 13 yearold pay thing
and no one knows still but the
village now whispers and no young girl
take the shortcut through the sunflower fields
your bone melts from the flesh
your yellow summer dress
I have hidden somewhere where none will reach
And I burn in my own private hell
And you are now far away from all this and me
But still the sunflower fields haunt me.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
1. If your lover betrayed you, what would your reaction be?
Stunned silence. Denial. Revenge. Total Heart Break.
2. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be?
I am a published writer and people are reading my books and discussing them and discovering a me without me telling/talking/discussing me.
3. Whose butt would you like to kick?
Bangalee Shomiti Kaakimaas
4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
Invest, Travel, Buy a house. Make a film. Tell My story.
5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?
I Will always try not to, but…..
6. Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?
7. How long would you wait for someone you loved?
Wait? I would wait all my life. But Also Move on in many ways. But I would always still wait.
8. If the person you secretly like is attached, what will you do?
Shower love, attention, support. Till they can’t live without you too. Even if that’s just platonic.
9. If you could root for one social cause, what would it be?
10. What takes you down the fastest?
Narrow-minded people with quick judgments
11. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?
With a house, hopefully a kid and at least 2 dogs.
12. What’s your fear?
Dying before I get to Live. Dying Young.
13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Easily accepting of, almost welcoming failure, just to prove a point.
14. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?
Either. What does Single Mean? No flings? Or casual stuff?
What does poor mean? No food? Or drainage?
15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Switch the geyser on and hit snooze on my cellphone alarm.
16. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously who will you pick?
If I am equally in love (whats equal? Whats love?) I will be with whoever wants to be with me. But I will always ‘wait’ for the other too.
17. Would you give all in a relationship?
Well…Yes…Only if I am not getting enough..i wll try and work harder at it and be earnest and serious and too Chipku. Otherwise…ummm..I guess am a bit of a commitment-phobe.
18. Would you forgive and forget someone no matter how horrible a thing he has done?
I can forget the person easily. Out of sight is out of mind (mostly).
Can I forgive and forget the horrible things? Well I try not to judge. So will forgive. But am self-preserving so will never forget.
19. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship?
Single when in a relationship.
In a relationship when single.
20. I tag Serindipidous and Medusa