until i am famous!

as i was surfing the internet for some desired information, i realised that every keyword typed into google leads to atleast one blogging site in the search results. it just proves that the new mania in internet land is the blogging mania. ofcourse, this is a great development which allows people to connect better and faster. but that also means, that every human being is a writer. where does that leave the likes of me? no, i am not complaining!
with all these actors, directors and other pseudo intellectual individuals blogging, it puts us, lesser known but equally talented people at the backdrop of events. therefore, it is only sensible that i tell myself that i can seriously consider blogging only after i am safely famous. that realised it puts a whole new perspective onto my list of goals.
as many of us complain, no one reads our blogs. but, why should the reader who wants to unwind after a long day, read our blog? what sets us apart? wouldn't he rather type out his favourite celebrity's name and read the blog that pops up? it gives him more insight into the life of an individual he admires and it also allows him to step out of his own shoes and live a different life for a while. movie watchers watch mindless romantic sagas with very much the same aim, to travel in a bubble of imagination that is different from his everyday mundane routine. what do we, infamous bloggers offer the reader? our take on life, movies, attitudes, nature et al? who cares? does you spouse, partner or sibling care? yes, mommy dearest cares, but only because she has no other business. i am not sure what fathers care about as yet.
what value do we bring into this world? what do we know that the rest of the world does not already know?
if there is a reader, he is wondering, why on earth am i reading a blog filled with questions? which is yet another question. i don't know, which is why i am writing this.
honestly, i would rather go and read farhan akthar's blog. and i am sure i am not the only one who would pick a celebrity over a faceless comrade. everyone likes pretty faces. so do i.
so, i guess, until i am a known and well loved face, i shouldn't really expect anyone to walk through these pages. and if somebody stumbles here because of a bad internet server, well, he knows that i support his want to not read this.
Good day and happy living!

maybe

maybe, it does not exist. the world i am so desperately looking for. clawing at the air around me, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, i will feel something. is there a world, where life isn't this annoyed at me? where things are not this complicated? is it an island i am seeking or have i just died inside? little by little? my recurring dream scares to the pitts sometimes. then, i wake up and am not sure if this world is still real. maybe it is and maybe i am not. wish this were a dream that i could wake up from. but, i don't wake up. and i try to shut my eyes tightly hoping that it will not hurt so much.. maybe.
why can't i have a normal family? why can't i be a normal child? why do i have to screw up so much if at all?
in my sordid dreams, i see myself holding a loaded gun and asking the person in front of me, "who are you? can i trust you?" and then,i start screaming,i wake up wet and screaming in my bed. it seems that i can't trust anyone and then moment i do, even for a second, i withdraw immediately. shut off completely and seem distant. i don't know where to go anymore. whom to seek out. i guess i've become too needy or not. i don't know. i know nothing. i feel like a machine. i am a machine. i laugh when expected to and don't cry at all. i am living a lie. pretending each day. and i am tired of it. i just want to be me. just the way i am. and i cannot do that. no one will like that. it won't be a very pretty picture. maybe. just maybe. one maybe. many maybe. may be. may it be. may it not be.

So, what's the story .... Morning Glory....?

as i stand over a pool of my own blood and stare at a distorted reflection of my face, i decide to finally, bare all. say it like it is and not think about how it may sound. because it is going to sound as it is, nothing else. it cannot sound any different from the stark reality. no flowery words or pretty frills are going to make me seem any nicer than i really am.
many aeons ago, i was dying to step into the real world and taste its many wonders. today, i've finally stepped into sea and it is doesn't give me a heady feeling of bliss achievement. it feels heavy on my heart and impossible to deal with. facing the real world means, your life will constantly have more than one problem, it will also mean that you cannot trust a single soul around you.
the real world, consists of bills you cannot seem to pay and people you cannot seem to stand for more than five minutes. i had this insane belief that i know it all, i sadly learnt that i know nothing and i control nothing.
so, as my first post said, i'd have to someday write here who really is morning fire and how did that name come about anyway. well, i stole the tag from one of my old memories. apparently, i willing to let the coffee go but not the tag. so, i stole it. no, i did not create it, i simply took it off someone who is of greater intellect than me and who i know, today, is a better person than i can ever be. i started writing here because i had nowhere else to go and no one who would hear me out. i believe i can do great things one day, and i also believe that i will go to my grave with that belief unfulfilled. not that it bothers me anymore. it used to, but, not anymore.
i try just like many others to attract attention. most of the time unnecessary attention. i do things that i shouldn't do and say things that mostly hurt. i am proud of the fact that in my head, i live on an island. i don't like people and i do everything i can to stay away from them. i sit for hours doing nothing, because i like it like that. it suits me better than doing something and then messing it up.
i read thick boring books and tell myself that i am being intellectual when in all reality, i am just escaping, because people usually do not get into conversation with somebody who has their head inside a book. it is easier. easier than having a conversation.
i am rude while trying to be insightful. insolent while trying to intellectual. so, that is the story, by morning glory.

why do you want to be like that;
like there is nothing new.
you are not fooling anyone;
you are not even fooling you!

connecting the broken strings..

as i sit watching these cars whizz by me in their superfast, extravagant speed, i wonder when i will get back into the race long begun and left undone. my unconnected thoughts force me to stay away from my keyboard. but, something within me pushes me to write lest i forget what i set out to do. i am scared i will lose touch with my inner reality. one of my primary thoughts goes back to the days gone by. the goddamn stars, water and pretty pretty lights. its funny how no matter what i do, or what turn my life takes, i remember broken, old promises. some i made to myself, some others made to me and some i made to others. i see this large container filled with blood and feel myself drowning into it. i delve deep into my soul and try to pull out the beautiful images i used to carry around in my heart not so long ago. i don't find any, and i don't know where to look anymore. so, i go back into the past, not cursing but remembering. wondering every day what it would be like had things not changed. maybe i wouldn't have been as wise as i am. maybe, not as strong. but, maybe i'd still have been innocent and trusting. many tell me the world is not worth trusting, but, sometime ago, it was. no?

a different sense of similarity

i was sitting in a mall when two kids caught my attention. they were playing a mindless game of jumping all around the place for no apparent reason. these two kids had many "differences", as it is called in the adult world. they were of opposite sexes, and they were of different races. the boy was indian and the girl was from phillipines. they seemed oblivious to this fact and were busy in their self made game. they probably knew everything that is needed to know in order to survive on this earth happily. nothing.
the fact that they knew nothing, understood nothing and cared for nothing, probably was the reason for their complete enjoyment. there was nothing to discriminate them or trouble them. at the end of their little play, they parted ways, with 'byes', 'see yous' and the like. they then turned to their different directions and continued with their respective lives. not turning back and looking at each other or bothering where the other went. this is probably the perspective adults should take up. maybe we should all stop prying into each other's lives. they didn't and i am assuring you that they both slept through the night comfortably, unlike most of us. we all worry about what the other is doing at the particular time or why someone said what they did, and whether they really meant it or not.
those children needed each other at that particular moment and not after that. and they realised this fact and lived up to it. i am not saying that we must use each other and leave. i am only trying to stress the fact that sometimes, in life, we must take things as they are and stop looking for deeper, unintended meanings. this probably might be our anti-stress capsule.
or maybe it won't be. i wouldn't know. because, if i did, i wouldn't be here writing this. i'd be in some happy place enjoying my life, not looking for companionship from a goddamn computer screen. right?

DOOMS DAY!

i was just wondering what value we have of our own life? many people fear death. still many embrace it. what is it that we fear the most? the loss of our loved ones or the loss of our own life? there is this calendar called the "Maya calendar". apparently, there are five predictions been made through it. four of which have come true. the fifth prediction states that "Dooms day" falls on Decemeber 21st, 2012. the meaning of this would be that the world will come to an end on this fated day. something like what happened to the dinosours millions of years ago will now happen to human beings. does that mean anything to anybody? most of the world is dismissing it. ignoring it. living with it.
i don't think i see anyone making any changes in his/her life to accomodate this fact. i am not saying "save the world" or "stop global warming". i am one of those people who lives with such facts. i am not, for one second, going to believe that there is something that can change this happening. it is going to happen if it is going to happen. i am just wondering whether or not the situation should be like in the movies. something like what happened in movies like, "The day after tomorrow", "Invasion", and other such. i mean, the entire world came together and people were telling people they loved just how much they loved them. should that not be happening? even if the world is not really coming to an end. just the thought of this should elicit SOME reaction. any reaction. a reaction. i don't know. maybe i am being stupid. (as usual, some would say). this probably means nothing, but, somehow, i can't help but wonder. :-)

old things

is it really possible to lie to the people who know you the best? which is that one name you'll be screaming when you know that you're going to die in a few minutes. what do you do when you finally wake up two days later to realise you're still alive?
i'll tell you, you call up your best buddy and ask him to drive down to your apartment and get your old phone. you will then stare at the old pictures that you didn't have the guts to delete and listen to the old recordings that still sound great.
you will not call that one person and when you finally cross paths, you will raise your chin and joke around. you will pretend that your life is one big party and you'll let that person know that you don't care about anything. you don't care that the person has changed or doesn't care about you anymore. you'll walk with a strut and come home and gobble down two extra pills and cry a lot. you will ignore the throb in your wrist and you will continue typing. and then you will stare into space and go back to being the shy recluse you love being.
you will clean the table over and over again till your wrist starts bleeding. then, you'll wipe the blood, bandage the wound and start cleaning all over again.
you'll see your future right before you and realise you've left all those you loved far behind and they've taken their own paths. you'll wish them luck and have the overdose you've been saving up for after you've met all those you love with your tiny little heart.

slow poison

just the other day, i was sitting and staring at the glass of pepsi before me. well, that's it. i was staring at the glass and the glass was gaping back at me. this went on for a few hours and then i was asked to leave from the restaurant. apparently, you cannot order just one pepsi and sit at the same place for a few hours. i didn't seem to comprehend this weird rule. so, here i was, rudely thrown out of the deserted restaurant. i stood on the footpath and looked around me. not knowing which direction to start walking in, i did the age old, 'inky pinky ponky'. thus, after my educated choice, i began walking. i stared up at the sky. it was a nice blue. there were tall, green trees around me as well. suddenly, i heard a loud horn. turning around, i stood witness to an extremely thin man flying off his bicycle. he had been hit by a swanky porche. i laughed at myself. the guy in the said car swore at the poor soul now on the road. isn't that what happens in all walks of life? the lesser individual who chooses to live life timidly gets trampled over.
with this great but useless thought, i continued walking. after about three hours, i reached home. i live with two other women. so, obviously, when i turned the latch of the main door, i was greeted with loud cries from one end of the house and incessant wailing from the other. i dropped my bag onto the couch and went into the kitchen. making some tuna on rye for myself, i settled into the uncomfortable couch. as the television came to life, one of my room mates came out and threw a photograph at me. "he cheated on me, again", she informed me between sobs. i looked up at her with sympathy. i placed a tub of chocolate ice cream into her hands. she smiled at me gratefully. my silence seemed to provide her a cue to begin her story and so she did. at the end of her long story, she asked me a question that had my tuna flying out of my hands. "honey, how do you deal with the pain of what he did to you?" she asked pointing at the photograph hanging on the wall in front of me. i sat back and stared at her. deal with what? what is dealing? its been well over a year and i still walk around like a moving bus knocked me off my feet. i walked over to wall and ran my pointed finger down the picture. at our smiling faces. cheek to cheek. i remembered what my mother had told my sister when she first came to my apartment. 'she still has his picture on the wall. 'still '. what a sad little word. it made me realise time and again, that i was stuck within some old, overturned pages.
there is a hole in my heart. and it isn't even my fault that it is there.
after my short discussion with myself, i strode across the room to the large mirror. i stood staring at the image in front of me. large, lost eyes. smileless lips and a thin frame. i felt like lashing out at the mirror. screaming at myself for being like this. no tears came to me. "darling, call the cops, i shot the mirror. Finally!!"

shortcut yourself and i'll turn it all around,
plastic and glass look the same;
from this side of the room.

i think its going to rain and then the shadow goes away.
for a moment, i think, its today and now;
but from the look of it, maybe, its tomorrow and never!

what is a blog??

i was just reading the mangonation blog the other day and that's when i thought to myself whether my blog is a blog?? i mean, there they have reviews and views and lots of really cool stuff. and i have sad, long stories. yelch! what should i write about in my blog. yes, owner of mangonation, i'd like some help here. alright, that's all i have to say. for now.

old rubbish that i forgot to throw out

Suddenly, the fatigue returned within the tiny veins running through the length of my arm. None of the old memories played as experience and the very realization of not knowing chastened my heart. The dreamy and velvety curtains of desire seemed to steam away with your deception. I closed the oak door behind me only to be mocked by the blinding emptiness left behind by the footsteps now stone cold. Hopelessly, turning on the coffee maker, I realized that the machine wouldn’t fix itself. Throwing it against the wall didn’t really bring you back. Big words and painful accusations pulled us apart and drew the blinds on our life. I pen a line in the dust that had settled on the kitchen counter. The house looked the same, but my sunken eyes and chapped lips told stories of its own. The crack down the dining room wall seemed to deepen as I stared at it with a steadfast gaze. My eyes searched for the broken ashtray, not finding it, I flicked the ash into the empty champagne bottle. Everything seemed broken and empty around me. My heart felt the same.
Forever stuck in a memory, I hear your voice across the large bedroom. Its soothing sound made things feel less alien. How long will your scent stay with me? As long as the sun shines into your large brown eyes, you’d once said solemnly. It felt the same, just as yesterday. And slowly yesterday entwined into the present day, feeling dry and meaningless. Tiny droplets hung onto the window pane reminding me of days of chai and pakodas. The incessant ringing of the telephone forced irritation to flow through my blood. My throbbing headache seemed to take over my entire being. I wished hard to the mum Gods that the call would hold my mother on the other end. Any other voice would just make the hard day harder still.
It didn’t seem to matter who was on the other end of the phone; I just stood above the useless machine squinting at the fading color. I strode aimlessly to the other end of the room. I wanted the entire house to fall apart around me. I wanted the world to stop twirling on its little axis. I wanted to drink away all the misery. I wanted to feel the poison run down my throat. Destructive thoughts struck through my mind and ripped my torn heart. It feels like I forgot your love, because I can’t feel its warmth inside me anymore. I feel cold and alone. Left vulnerable, yet again. Tiny fragments of your existence haunt me as I fall asleep only to open my eyes to painful sunshine and an empty pillow. The silken white sheets no longer feel dipped in crimson regret. Stained by bleak desire, they fall motionless around my frozen feet.
If I could;
I would;
Close my eyes and fall into the black hole of raw love.

a new home

i was sitting last night in the house that i am finally leaving. i remember clearly, the day i had walked into this house. i was elated at the beauty the house brought into my life. it was all so perfect. slowly the nuances of the house and the people living in it came alive before me. i closed my eyes and tried to remember the first few days. i remembered the days when all of us used to make chocolate in our little kitchen with the jelly setting in the tiny fridge. drying the clothes in the large backyard and carelessly enjoying the sunshine whilst sitting on the swing in the frontyard. the tiny plants, the beautiful flowers, all of it came alive right before my eyes. after all the fights and issues i'd been through in these four walls, i realised for the first time that i would miss it terribly. images of my new life sped before me and i wasn't too sure if i was ready for the drastic change.
i had come to the realisation that living with a person tells you a lot more about them than many years of friendship can. i learnt gradually that my room mates had good as well as bad points. it took me a long while to accept thier habits and preferences. is it the same with marriage?
the man you love so much may turn out to be a completely different person. this thought set a flame of fear in my heart and made me think of my new life. the life that awaited me. i am on my way to live with my best friend. but, how much do i know about the person i chose to live with? how long do i have to wait outside the loo? who will pick up the morning paper? which side of the bed will i have to sleep on? will i get to choose the side? questions like these played around in my head.
i don't know how sensible my fears are, but, they are what they are.

happiness and that perfect person

i silently draw my finger right through the middle of the blanket. cold winds make the noise of the gentle swish swish. my ice cold feet try to find a cozy fold in the blanket. not finding any, i pull them out of the blanket and stand on the naked floor, seemingly colder than my feet. the extra clothing that i have piled on provides me no warm comfort. i go out into the hall and sit on the couch. suddenly, i wish i hadn't opted for cane while choosing the piece of furniture. staring at the blank, black television, i weigh the options i have. either i could switch on the television and watch some mindless nonsense or i could read the jeffrey archer i picked up last weekend. i do neither, as usual. the walk to the kitchen seems to take forever. i throw open the refrigerator, only to find leftovers of the weeks gone by. nothing even remotely edible. gah! shouldn't have skipped dinner earlier today, i think to myself. a thought completely in vain, as there will be more evenings when i will relentlessly skip dinner. i paw at the various things in the shelf. finding some old chips, i settle for a midnight snack of chips and coke. i fall back into my uncomfortable couch and this time stare at the white wall directly in front of me. my wandering mind takes me back to earlier that afternoon, when i sat with my friend and discussed happiness, the insane mythologies written long before us and about being a perfect person. everyone wants to be perfect. if they can't be, they want their spouses to be. if their spouses cannot fulfill this condition, then they push their kids to be perfect. but, who is perfect? wish i could jump and say, me! but, no i cannot. simply because i am the exact opposite of perfect. sympathies go out to my parents and my husband to be. but, that is not what i am discussing here. here?yes, here, in my head with myself whilst seated on a cane couch, staring at a white wall, with coke and chips in my hand at two in the morning. oh my God. i should shoot myself.effing stupid sleep. just keeps eluding me. forcing me to have these late night talks with myself. now, i am sitting here, writing this, with MTV playing on the television. why do they play indi rap late at night? shouldn't they play romantic songs? i mean, its only lovers who stay up late at night. right? but, i am no lover. no, i am not. there are these insane ideas i have in my head about things in general. which side of the bed to get off from, which cup to drink my morning tea in and what to do while i am waiting at the doctor's (which would be counting the tiles on the floor). i jump off the couch and wake my dog up. he looks up at me with big, sleepy, pleading eyes. i pay no attention to his wordless request and drag him out of the house and into the bitter cold night for a walk. a walk that i need more than he does. poor fellow. he comes with me anyhow, not wanting to waste time trying to convince me to leave him in his cozy little bed. apparently its easier to just comply. gosh, i am a difficult person to live with. God knows why the dog puts up with me. look at me, referring to him as 'dog' and not even providing his name. i come back into the house and he runs back to bed. i take a walk around my not so large apartment and settle in front of the television yet again. this time watching a re-run of friends. falling asleep with the television still on, i lose track of time, space and my thoughts. the insistent ringing of the doorbell wakes me up from deep slumber. dragging myself out of the couch, i open the door with my eyes half shut. the milkman wants his money. oh, well, wish i could go ringing a few doorbells for money. i ask him to come later in the day as i don't even know what the meaning of the word money is right now. he looks at me as if i am crazy and tautly informs me that is seven in the morning and the entire world is up. sure! i believe that! i thank him and slam the door only to realise that i better get ready to head to work. thoughts of the night before are safely buried into the depths of my mind, while the daily madness of a normal day kicks in. my car refuses to start because the engine has a cold. the traffic signal takes too long to turn green and i am graciously late for work. my boss doesn't look to happy. do i look happy to him?what is happiness? fame? money? power? success?no, happiness is simply the absence of unhappiness. to be happy, one just has to try and not be unhappy. simple.

new year and that new joy..

well, yet another new year and lots more promises of joy, happiness and ahem..love.!
i had a blast last night, but, could only think of the new years' gone past. the empty promises and the new sunrise. its all really funny, i must say, how we think up things that could be but never are! my resolution every year is to be a better person. last conversation i had with mom, said that i have never fulfilled that resolution!
not that its much of a problem, every person's definition of a good person is different.
to high skies and marmalades,
holding tightly to those lost memories.

tendencies to leave who i was behind come to me in installments. those friends who i thought made my world, spent their new year half way across the city and walked right past me when i ran into them at the rickshaw stand. not that i was gonna bend low and acknowledge their presence. a woman has some pride after all! as for my date, i saw him at the start of the party and then at the end when he made sure i got home. so, love, friendship and all that has been rightfully taken care of!
to summer hills and daffodils,
to what was and what will never be again.!

new year and that new joy..

well, yet another new year and lots more promises of joy, happiness and ahem..love.!
i had a blast last night, but, could only think of the new years' gone past. the empty promises and the new sunrise. its all really funny, i must say, how we think up things that could be but never are! my resolution every year is to be a better person. last conversation i had with mom, said that i have never fulfilled that resolution!
not that its much of a problem, every person's definition of a good person is different.
to high skies and marmalades,
holding tightly to those lost memories.

tendencies to leave who i was behind come to me in installments. those friends who i thought made my world, spent their new year half way across the city and walked right past me when i ran into them at the rickshaw stand. not that i was gonna bend low and acknowledge their presence. a woman has some pride after all! as for my date, i saw him at the start of the party and then at the end when he made sure i got home. so, love, friendship and all that has been rightfully taken care of!
to summer hills and daffodils,
to what was and what will never be again.!