Kothiyavunu.com -Flavors reminds Gods Own Country

Kothiyavunu.com -Flavors reminds Gods Own Country

Opinions, opinions ?

Well, here it is, my questions to those of you who are up for a discussion ?

The other day, by the blazing fire of bbq coals on a cold cold winter night, I met an interesting young woman. She is currently pursuing a degree to become a Chartered Accountant (this information is not necessary, but, it makes me proud to see a young woman with dreams). So, well we got talking as most women do (another stereotype, that is totally getting onto my nerves !). The topic of discussion was women, our place in society and our 'boundaries'. Knowing how opinionated I am, and am proud to be, the word boundaries did not go down too well with me, and hence I fired up a debate.

Why do we state boundaries for ourselves ? Aren't boundaries, primarily constricting ? I would prefer limits, not that a choice of word would change the emotion. But, boundaries and societal and limits are personal. At least according to me. Limits are when I decide that one glass of red sherry is just about all I can take, and boundaries are when society states that a man can drink but to a woman, it is taboo. How so ? Isn't drinking universally a bad idea ?

We have, as women, limited our horizons by our own will. We have succumbed to stereotypes and agreed to being the weaker sex, mind you, 'weaker' not 'fairer'. So, as the discussion progressed we spoke about the cage that is self created. We have agreed that we belong within the four walls of a home, OUR home, yet we fight to survive the fast paced economic rat race. We have agreed that OUR man must only and only come back to OUR house, but step out and find solace in OTHER men. So who is really confused ? Us ? Or the men ?

I would say, its time we analyse our own roles in our own lives. Striving to be something that we don't even completely agree with. This young cyclone wants to be a 'working woman' but has set boundaries ? Dreams are endless, aspirations are limitless. Then where does boundary feature ?

We are desperate, desperateee for our spot in the sunshine, yet we are running farther away from it by succumbing to the dogmas that surround us. Who do we WANT to BE ? Where do we WANT to GO ? Or are we just fighting the battle with the MEN because it seems like that's what everyone is doing now ? Are the men in our lives really threatening our individuality ? Or are we analyzing them based on what we 'hear' ? Are we one of the few fortunate women whose spouses don't physically and mentally abuse them and actually allow them the privilege to fight for their rights or are we the oppressed lot who get burnt, beaten and murdered ?

If we don't fall into the abused category and are primarily well taken care of , then what is all the noise about ? Are we using the current woman's Lib forum to manipulate our partners ? Or perhaps just to gain sympathy ? Yes, there are women out there who are being treated like lesser humans, so ? So, let's help THEM ! Let's look into the various issues that ACTUALLY surround women on a daily basis rather than whining to our actually caring spouses that they did not clear the trash out in time. So what if they didn't ? Well, nor did we !

I'd say, let's take out the trash once in a while, let's make breakfast on the weekend for once, let's go out to the park with the kids, let's NOT do our nails this week ! And let's go out there, find out what's troubling women with real problems, pull up socks and get down to helping make a REAL difference , and well, let's just stop whining about the men who we have, who do their best, EVERY DAY ! :)

Here is where, your opinion is being sought out, do you or don't you agree that we are complaining for NOTHING ? Are there boundaries ? Do we need to keep within society's idea of what we CANNOT do ?

Thank you for your time, and I hope the answers help. Please don't get catty on me ! ;)

forever and ever or just until .. ?

Well, so I realised that updating a status on facebook or tweeting is a bit limiting and I miss being able to say what I have to in a little more than 400 words. Obviously, that does make me sound like a bit of a talker, but, then again, who is to say that keeping quiet is what makes the world twirl ?

It has been a long time since I tread the lesser known territories, but, now that I have my writing gear back on, I am hoping that the world as an oyster has expanded slightly more than I remember.

A lot of interesting questions popped into my head as I put the finishing touches on my first chapter, and I have been far too smug about finishing just chapter 1 that I have not really got around to chapter 2, verse 1. Calling this stage as a writer's block would be optimistic of me. I seem to have had the writer's block for more than a few years now. I can safely blame facebook for this uncharacteristic change of events, with it asking me every time I refresh the page, 'what's on your mind ?' Typing down what my mind has been mulling over every few minutes, drains out the ideas that I might have otherwise placed in a column or in an article. Since I have my excuse in place, I can safely say it is time to 'get on with it' !

I must also add that I do sorely miss put an emoticon after each sentence as texting and facebooking (if there be such a word) have made me accustomed to.

The question that popped into my head today was, have we all forgotten the idea of building bridges ? How many of us in recent years have cut off from people who were a past of our past, or as I would like to put it, part of our 'history' ? We have come to the jet age where its easier to let go of old things. I remember my first mobile phone, it was a sony ericsson, model something something. It was so special to me back in the day, I remember checking on it every few minutes, keeping it charged at all times, I don't think I ever had the 'low battery' issue with it. There were absolutely no scratches on it and it had a nice jingly attachment with the symbol of my zodiac sign hanging from it. I guarded it with my life, at most times, until of course my life was on the line (as it has been every time I attempted to cross a road !). Over the years, I have used a number of mobile phones from different companies, in different countries. From a black and white display, I moved on to colour display, then came the infra red phones, then the bluetooth sought me out. As the years went by, the prices of my mobile phones increased and so did their functions. At one point, I saw myself with the 'camera mobile phone' , having a digital camera at the time, I had really no use for the camera in the mobile phone, but it seemed like the right thing to have at the time ! Eventually, today I have the 'smart phone' which removes the need for a camera, a computer, a digital diary, a walkman (yes, that's what I used to use in order to listen to 'good' music) and all other electronic gadgets. What I did notice had changed from my sony ericsson days was that even though now my phone is probably 10 times or more the price of my first mobile phone, I am far less careful with it than I was with the sony ericsson. I usually forget my phone at every place that I stop during the day. I have left it at the table in Dairy Queen, inside the machine at the airport, in the public restroom at my office, and many more unusual places. I realise I have become careless with it. Perhaps because I know that there are far nicer 'smart phones' out in the market and if I were to misplace the one I currently have, I can go and pick up the latest model of the latest hot brand and 'replace' my current phone.

Have we become that careless about our relationships as well ? I remember the days when we would weigh our words and double check our actions in the mere attempt to NOT hurt our friends and families. We would be cautious about the things we did and the decisions we made. We were a lot more caring and attentive of the people around us. Has the jet age, use and throw mechanism of today made us less intuitive of feelings and longevity ? The moment we see that a person or a relationship has become tedious, we easily 'replace' it with something 'better'. Whatever happened to forever and ever ? They don't even make movies of forever and ever anymore. Mobile phones are replaceable, houses are on rental agreements, jobs are contract based and relationships ? Well, relationships have become the dating saga. We have online dating, we have blind dating, and just about every kind of dating that is possible and even 'impossible'. And then we get bored, and 'move on'.

Is it that easy to find a new partner ? And whatever is the meaning of 'new' partner anyway ? Isn't a partner supposed to be till death do us apart or is it now, till the next one comes along ? We don't even make an effort to work on relationships anymore, because apparently 'there are many fish in the sea' , or are there really ? We end a relationship with the slightest of reasons, or sometimes with no reason at all. Is transference of love and loyalty second nature to us now ? We make promises to our 'current' partner and then forget about those promises ? We forget the dreams ? We forget the commitment ? Commitment has now become an oft misused term. Commitment today means, 'I won't sleep with anyone else WHILE I am sleeping with you.' Is that what it has come down to ?

In our search for 'the one' , are we allowed to walk over the hearts of those we don't think of as, 'the one' ? And even if we were to find 'the one' , how would we even know ? Perhaps we end up having a distasteful argument with 'the one' and walk away, like we have walked away from others in the past. And then is 'the one' lost to us in the sands of time ? Leaving us to a never ending quest of finding never never land ? Where is our sense of responsibility ? Or do we even have any ? Is finding 'the one' a task similar to finding another latest 'smart phone' ? Have we evolved to the extent that we don't realise the fine line between friendships and relationships ? Or have we entered the fast food era , where it doesn't matter whether you eat a burger or a pizza, all that matters is it should be delivered to you, under five minutes with no hassle or adjustment from your side ? Are we all looking for cut and dry companionship or have we become so 'independent' that we have lost the taste for long lasting relationships ?

swirling out of control..

As I sit, alone, on this dull afternoon, I cannot help but acknowledge the feeling inside my head. It is like how my braces feel against my teeth, constricting yet relieving. I want to say so many things, but, in the process of growing up, I've stopped speaking my mind. Somehow it feels more sensible to sit and watch. Listen to what other people say rather than provide my own insight. I want to learn what it is like to NOT be the centre of attention, to NOT have the world spin around you.
Every night, I listen to Jeremy, grandson of Kenneth and Gloria Copeland. His words seem to talk to something that is inside my head. Not quite me, but, me. I don't know if it leaves a mark on my soul or not, but, I sure hope that it does. If not right now, then, atleast at some point in the future.
God and HIS nuances. It is almost like I've lived in the darkness for far too long. I am struggling to get out of the shadows. I don't fight my battles like I used to. The tigress attitude has long left me. I no longer have the incentive to get into a war, its a bloodless battle everyday. Maybe that is the best way to live or maybe that's the only choice I have left. I look for peace, but, I cannot seem to find it. Is it inside me? Has it left me?
I sometimes feel old. As if time has slipped through the gaps between my fingers. I feel like I lost everything in those years when my actions were Godless. I know that I hurt many hearts and trampled many lives. I changed a few and sacrificed yet many on the alter of my climbing. It is all in the past, now, they say. But, is it really? Guilt has overtaken my life and I have lost the taste to live.
I don't really see the point of inching on, but, maybe that is my real punishment. To live with the guilt of what I have done. True happiness lies within the folds of life. I think I straightened life out way too much, leaving no folds at all.
Stop- be still. Ask for instructions. Follow the instructions.
I have stopped. I have stopped doing things the way I used to, I have altered my ways. But, somehow I cannot muster the courage to ask for directions. I should, but, I just don't seem to have the courage. It takes a lot of courage to admit that you are or were wrong. It takes courage to bend and ask for help. But, the Helper was sent by the Father. HE wanted me to ASK for help from the Guide. It would be only my folly to not see what lies before me. I have to accept my many faults and go ahead with whatever I have in my hands today. God is with me, or HE would not have brought me so far. HE loves me.
I don't know if those reading this blog will understand what I have written. For someone who has by far lived life by the quarter mile, it seems difficult to see me write about God and HIS ways. But, everyone, one day wakes up and sees the light. I don't know if I have finally seen HIS light, but, I know that I am walking towards it!

And it is finally just me

Why does yesterday keep repeating in my life? Its feels like all of my tomorrows are mirror reflections of my yesterdays. And today, as I gave my final shot at the only future I wanted to be in, it’s blew up in my face. And finally after years of running round in circles, I finally am alone now. Truly completely on my own. All my crutches are gone and now I am forced to stand on my two feet. It feels wobbly. It feels scary, but, I also know now that I have choice. I probably never did, and I kept postponing this day for various reasons. And now, I don’t know whom I am angrier with, myself or the entire world around me. It would be easier to be angry with myself as it is a single person, but, if I have only myself to live with for the rest of my years then, it wouldn’t make sense to be angry with myself. So, I choose to be not angry at all. I scream, yell and release this unending pain that I feel in the bottom of my heart. It will always be there and I will never be complete. Always a part of me missing. And now I know that I have to live with it. With sorrow comes tears but with realization comes salvation. It isn’t possible to please anybody without hurting yourself. So, I am not going to try to please anybody. I have to scrape through my life and that is work enough. I am tired of trying to fit in. now, I am just going to build my own little world away from everyone else. Because I seem to be happiest with myself. And that is probably the saddest thing anyone ever wrote. But, I just did and it does not feel sad anymore.

Readability

A writer's ability is gauged by the readability of his work. Readability is not just how your reader reads your work, it entails a great many rules. When I studied readability in great detail, it worried me to no end. As a writer (if I may be called one), I have never really considered so many points before penning down my heart's song. So, today, as I sit here with a steaming hot cup of tea, I wonder if what I am doing follows all those rules. Ironically, I had heard when I was very very young that there are no rules to being a writer. A writer can say what he wants, how he wants and where he wants. Apparently, that does not hold true in today's day and age when writing has become more or less a business.

One must have a clear picture of his theme, then he must zero in on his target audience and then choose the medium of communication. He must not use flowery sentences and he must use simple words.

If I were to consider all that, then I would have to stop writing because I have always believed that the essence of one's writing lies in the imagery one can create with the use of flowery words. I truly believe that writing in simple, everyday language can be done by anyone. A writer would use words that are rare, so that the reader picks up something of literary essence from the writing.

But, all that said, to be effective and to sell, one must follow the ground rules. Which means the phrase writing for pleasure is to be dumped in the heap of garbage that I had to throw out last weekend, but didn't.

The wild soul that I am, I have never really followed any rules. Not the rules of society, of institutions, organisations or any such. So, following rules to writing goes against my principles. Or not. If I have some dreams, I will have to make some alterations to my thinking.

In the past few months, I have made a great many alterations to my thinking and have changed all my beliefs. At my age and stage, it was a herculean task to change who I was, but, I can proudly gloat that I changed and am now well accepted by those who I care about. Those who I don't care about and those who cannot accept the new me, can go eat grass.

As for my writing, I am going to make special efforts to suit the writing that will be enjoyed by my target audience, will sell like hot cakes (do people care about hot cakes anymore?) and bring me lots and lots of money. Because at the end of all the serenades we tell each other, the only thing true that we probably don't admit is that money rules the world. And no matter how artsy we want to be, at the end of it all, we need lots of money for a roof on our heads, food on the table and clothes on our body. Nothing to cover the soul, I must add, because the soul is free, wild and wonderful. Whether I can be artsy in my life or not, I swear to allow my soul to always be artsy. Nobody can take that away from me. If anyone tries, I will forget readability and all that jazz and pull out my sword and cut his or her heart out. Or maybe not. =)

back again....

I have not been around these pages for a while now and I feel a bit out of place coming here now. So many things have changed in my life in these past few months that I have a constant heady feeling that leads me to believe that everything is super good all the time, which may or may not be true. Producing good work is not easy and in my case it seems to be a tedious job whenever I sit to write nowadays. Somehow for the first time in my life, I don't need to use my writing as a tool or a medium of communication. Back in the day, the only way for me to hear myself out would be to write down what I feel. Now, I just need to pick up the phone and vent my feelings. It is not about the sickeningly sweet sensation called love. I am too old and too mature to believe that love changes everything. It does not. I am not even sure if I can say that I know what love feels like. I probably don't. I have just found a bunch of people who genuinely care about how I feel. The one person who leads the pack of people who care about me is my father. I found him and I don't think anyone, ever, in the history of mankind got that lucky, not even those who discovered diamond and gold. I just know that finally, I have the one shadow over me that is not going to darken my life, but, protect it. I wanted to write a charming and interesting blog, but, I think I am writing something that is totally 'emo', be that a word.
What's it about paragraphs? I have to really put my mind to include it in my writing. My English teacher just returned a test paper with the words, 'paragraph, please', written across my answer in big bold letters. And Dezy, of course was the first person to tell me that my writing is preposterous because I don't use the coveted 'paragraph'! So, now, I making an effort to use paragraphs at all times. But, I wonder if I can use 'literary license' as an excuse for not using paragraphs? No, I won't. That would be wrong. Or not.
I know what I want to write about, but, the words are just not coming to me. Maybe, I should write a poem about it first, to get my thoughts flowing and then write a blog entry about it. Yes, I am using the whole suspense formula with not being clear about what I want to write about. But, you must realise I need something to get readers to come visit me and my last post did not help to keep my reader's population alive.
So, that said, I think I am going to stop here and come back when I have more to say, or rather more matter to discuss. Now, I obviously don't. For those who bothered going through this, Thank you!!
Take care and keep smiling.. =)

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.!