Sad Ishhtories

When i was little, like a small girl, naive and unblemished, i had visions. Carefully tuned visions and careless unsupported ones- like dreams. I do not talk of that age, when the world wasn't beyond the confines of the door, garden and the ocassional distant gate. It was when i had learnt to define, look at people and make assumptions. Those assumptions that where a hope. When just a crush meant all the excitement, when exams were paramount, when holidays went beyond grime and sweat, when cousins meant no baggage, when fights were an excuse, when ambition meant achievement, when chocolates meant taste, when "back to school' felt new and everything meant just everything.

It has probably changed. All of it. Nothing feels the same any more. Expectations bring in disappointments, luck is shortlived and life goes on. You just learn to live with it. Piling up debts that become heavier, that you can't let go and that you can't live with.

.......

unfolding in flash,
the green, small pink and red
the mind scripting
like fever, a nervous warmth
pining for an unsaid touch,
fair skin and sympathetic smiles
looking for perfection,
a compulsive disease.
arrogance and love
compelled into one
tossing in turmoil
shame, guilt , filth
filling like compensation.

fairy god mother

here i come to you, my long lost love. i cannot keep away, flaming skies, murderous people and raging winds. through it all, i come back to you! :)

Final

For any blogger, feedback is very important. Whether positive or negative. thats what, atleast the general perception is. I believe so too. But sometimes it becomes a little difficult, especially when a blog is more on personal lines, personal experiences, thoughts, feelings and expressions. At most times readers may not relate to what you're trying convey and appreciation becomes a little difficult then. And the same applies to the style of writing, the structure, the vocabulary and maybe even the theme. It all is a reflection of emotions, and that cannot be justified. It doesn't have answers to why, what, how, whatever! This whole thing is pretty much contradictory. Now i have lost the strength to write. I do not find solace in words. They are orphaned. By the world and me. Cant help it if its hard hitting philosophy. Sounds real funny to me! So to all those who have asked me how, why, what............. I just want to say... NO MORE!

I hope this post was clear, precise, technically sound and all that superficial shit that accounts for a myth labelled - "good writing"

blah blah blah!

right now i am hyper ventilating! this is one of my favourite words cause it happens to me every other day! i hyperventilate when i don't get my usual glass of milk in the morning! and then its the god damned newspaper that makes me swear. especially on public holidays/ rainy days. it is my necessity for early morning uhhh you know what! so you see the whole thing is bloody well linked! i hope you didn't get that wrong- i only READ the paper. strictly the hot entertainment section. and then its those itsy bitsy things that make me run all over the place. aah but what comfort they provide (crooning away...) i never seem to have enough of them ya. :( and then begins the ritual. pulling out a million clothes from the perenially resembling a dumpyard kind of wardrobe (source of vocabulary- mom) yipppe! just when i find one i realise i have outgrown it. yet again! when will i find the perfect one?! shit im hyperventilating. what if i become obese? what if i cant eat chocolate ever again. ? what if i dont fit in through my door?
which reminds me that i am already clumsy enough. especially when im driving and lost in the bliss of my head phones. i fall into HUGE potholes and fly over those SPEED BRAKERS or is it breakers?! whatever, but now im getting paranoid! i have actually forgotten SPELLINGS?!
walking is an even bigger pain. since i could give the "quack" species a run for its originality. somehow i never seem to get my feet straight. it falls flat at 60 degrees. by the way i used to love drawing the angle in school. cause it was the easiest :) and i quack my way into class. wiping the sweat off my brow i realise the front part of my hair is beginning to get wild again. it is straight on one side of the partition and curls on the other. no amount of straightening or oiling or cutting puts it right. the scientist in me found the cause of the problem. GENES. from my dad. he has the same front one sided curl. suited him during his time at least. with that hero type fringe. now, NOW WHAT WILL I DO? what if that cute looking guy in the shop opposite finds it weird. what if i look like that 80 year old mami with excess oil in her hair. what if ..?!
suddenly realisation hits me. i have been obsessing about anything and everything since morning. just then some bitch in class has to remind me of her super kiss with her boyfriend last evening! with the extra add ons of mush and everything. which again gets me wondering! what if i never have a first kiss?! will i lose the urge! everyone i know has kissed. blame my bloody fate. just to let you know- i am not desperate and anyone trying to play smart will surely get a hot kiss. from the silencer of my bike.
and here comes the most irritating part of my day. its a nice lazy day and im dreaming away in a yacht with george clooney in hawaii(bliss) when some toxic smell makes me take a second look at clooney. whats he doing? oh its someone next to me in the desk. looks like she let go of the pressure and ripped one apart nicely. what ever does she eat?! people must be fined for farting in public. as compensation for the tremendous suffocation, discomfort and trauma caused for the beings around. and im hyperventilating now. literally. trying to give out co2 through my mouth. and there are people who make me mad, like my best friend for instance. predicts everything about my life. and it happens. but she isn't available when i desperately have to ask her something! urgently. my life would depend on her advice. my careless fate. she is busy... studying ,studying or doing some other crap work like listening to her parents who do not allow her to talk on the phone for more than five mins? the results come out. managed to pass and me- dumbstruck. you slog your ass off for this.? so much so that you couldn't talk to me for a week?! so she comes home after that to say sorry. and all that boiling suddenly stops. like if someone switched the gas off or something. and thats one thing i hate about myself.! so bad at keeping mum about my discontent. reminds me of those fizzy drinks. tastes like shit after the fizz dies.
thats my life story- part one.
oh and i also realised, i hyperventilate not every other day but every other hour of the day.

heelllooooo!

now now people! everybody seems to be getting upset with the kind of philosophic stuff i have been writing! just for all of you, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me or my life! i am a bhery bhery happpii puuhrson! the next few months shall be dedicated to the so called "funny stuff"! :P

Have you lived...

suddenly out of the blue, something struck me real bad. a desire to show everyone how bad i can hit them. how, if i want to, i can change their beliefs, their thoughts or their definitions of right and wrong. so when i read "someone's" ideologies in life, which i don't know have stemmed from where- experience or belief or assumption i want to show her what it means. to have ideologies. i hope she reads this some day and thinks of herself. thinks of how, she breathlessly limped through that phase. how she struggled in vain and just how desperate she had been. how she just wanted to erase from her mind the events that happened. how she felt cheated and completely used.

for you this my dear i want to say, you deserve it. whatever you went through. cause you showed the world you were strong. you were strong enough to love and that in itself is an answer.
you let urself get washed in the big wave. but probably you thought you could tide over it. thats where you went wrong. you went wrong cause you believed whatever you faced on one side was the same story in the other. the world is made of different stories and looking at it from your small closed world is always innocence. you couldn't stop that wave, it overpowered you. and yet you couldn't take your revenge on it. you couldn't stop it. but do you remeber the excitement of getting drenched in that single wave? do you remember that momentary feeling of glee, of happiness? do you still think about how cold you had felt after that? and how nice? that is what you need to remember dear. not anything else. that wave showed you what life was and how helpless you could be in the reality of circumstances. but now it also shows that you can forget the wave, with slight bitterness. the bitterness remains cause when the better things come you will be enlightened. do not form conclusions or ideologies. cause they are limited to just a situation. your situation and in that case you're controlled more by emotion rather than logic. so i dont agree with notions that say you loved too much or you cared too much but didn't get it enough. you did that cause you wanted to do, cause it gave you pleasure, it gave you all that happiness. so why expect the same things in return? you felt trapped cause you assumed, expected and put yourself above everything. and as for the wave, dont find fault with it. it only gave you what you wanted.

Been Here?

You know you are from Mumbai when.....
Stock market quotes are the only other thing besides cricket which you follow passionately.
You take fashion seriously.
You spend more time travelling than you sPend at home.
9:47 fast, means something to you.
u think tht delhi copied INDIA GATE frm mumbai's GATEWAY OF INDIA...

You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
Amitabh Bachchans house is a landmark
When there's no place to breathe in the trains but there's place to play cards and sing bhajans! You refer to the city as Mumbai and not Bombay .
You say that Pani Puri is waayy better than Gol Gappa's even when they're the same thing Every three months you look at your street and say "Why're the digging the road again?"
You actually pay for your rickshaws by the meter.
You know what the term "video coach" stands for in the local trains...
"Gheun Tak" is your life ideology.
You aren't surprised when somebody throws a water balloon at you while you're walking on the streets during March.
you can only smile forgivingly about the size of any other city in the world.
Every time you speak Hindi in front of a Delhitite they have the WTF expression on their face. When while giving directions you say "Right MARO aur wahan pe ek bridge GIREGA"
You have hung on to dear life at the local door.
When you think everyone who lives to the south(Mumbai) of you is a snob and to the north of you sucks
when u c movie names like "shootout at Lokhandwala" & 'Ek chalis ki last local" & don't have to ask what the name means
you consider the local train "empty" when you find a spot for your two feet to stand on.
when "chalta hai" is the most commonly used word
Everything to the north of Mumbai is UP-Bihar and everything below is Madras
if someone calls u "aap"-- u start laughing on their faces...
when you call the BEST bus, BST, even though BEST is painted on every single public transport bus operational in Bombay
It takes longer to get off from your house to the station than from one end of Mumbai to another by train.
Being truly alone makes you nervous.
Crorepati, Lakhpati, Hazarpati, Chillarpati all travel in local Trains daily-together!.
You have learnt how to stand in a queue
u treat mumbai as a country itself
when you actually see random people coming to help you when u have a problem
u want to get into the train already that is already in motion & u have 5 hands taking u in..
You are back to work next day after the city is bombed - Truly the spirit of Mumbai
When you allow complete strangers to spend the night in your house because its raining outside and half the city is submerged...

p.s- this is not my work. just something from somewhere that made me read it some hundred times.

Echoing................

I stand here today in stillness,
this minute seeming eternal.
It feels like an eternity of- sadness
the sin of expectation overpowering
perhaps the defined realities.
Even so, reverie is reality
for the mind, the heart.
Is it foolish to stand here
to endure careless pain,
accepting false promises,
building on murdered hopes,
wanting to win,
wanting to prove?

An inner voice talking, questioning
the strength of giving,
of having given,
in the small fragments of time
yet feeling so large.
Unnoticed, maybe
in the vastness
of the universe.
And still making a difference
somewhere,
in the concept of a life
in the knowledge of the world.

Cliches exist, and their followers,
different kinds, emotions and beliefs.
Actions unable to be- justified, understood.
Flowing like a river,
the very consequences,
of actions.
Piercing the other, speaking in silence,
like a thousand swords.
No satisfaction of blood,
no comfort of physical pain,
no happiness of dead thoughts.

The destruction that grips,
when trust becomes external
when ignorance kills
when dependency overpowers
..........................................
wisdom optimises experience,
belief is consecrated,
love is self.

Liberation...?

Perhaps the word evokes more questions than answers. Moreso for a woman?
Or so i have been sensitised. By what i see, what i hear and what i have been channelised to think. It is rather natural, to associate liberation with women, with countries, women in the countries. So what precisely would mean liberation for a country, empowering its women or if i could just change a little and question, what is liberation for a woman? A country, her country that will recognise her, respect her, give her the freedom she deserves, liberate her from restrictions, let her be............

Oh yes, it is,
a dreaded female foetus,
a shame.
She shall not be blessed,
with education, books or
anything,
symbolic of knowledge.
Cause it is not right.
It is not customary.
It is not practised.
Her smile -covered,
tears dried in seclusion
happiness, least priority.
But she can satisfy,
a man.
His needs, his wants,
his whims, fancies.
At his mercy, at his call.
She is there.

Men rule the world,
for,
their power,justified.
It is right.
And it is customary.
No one can question,
birth rights of gender.
The prejudice in one,
the pride in another.

she had been waiting..... for long enough now. another day, another week or even a month didnt make a difference. she could still wait. clutching to the torn rags of fate. perhaps she was at its mercy. and to her it was the only truth.
she felt it that fateful first day when it had been just a far off glance. 2 years closed, she felt the very same. that emotion that couldn't be explained.
sometimes she dismissed it a fascination, sometimes it felt godly. at other times it was sheer anger, and then pity.
EMOTIONS afterall...... are never stable. time loses its battle against them. and so does trust.

in this two sided battle that swayed favourtism she had been unable to stick to a thought. the highs were always submerged in the consequent lows. each time the happiness that took its infant steps was killed by its enemy. falling and learning to walk again.

she is waiting..............

state of mind........

crucification! murder! phlegm! melancholy.
failure can turn the sanguine to permanent retirement.
and the world's biggest anthems are composed.
in retrospect, life is a comedy of errors.
past always is viewed in humor.

its over..........

I can't believe...
Its over.

Fifteen long years....
The same gates,
the same rooms ,
the same smell of sand.
Now seems stranger.....
maybe its over.

The smile that lit up every morning,
the bell that rang every afternoon,
the shouts that filled every wall,
the laughter that echoed through spaces,
now seems still.........
I guess its over.

I wasted it,
i was accused, troubled, complained
i was too preoccupied,
I didn't experience it,
i have lost it.
its over.

i want to go back.
live the way i want to,
feel the excitement,
find love,
run around the long stairs,
laugh my heart out,
practise late evenings,
be dropped home with care,
win popularity,
hear my name being screamed,
see my name on the blue walls,
have little kids idolise me,
carry the lingering memory of a first kiss........

I can't...
cause its over.

.......... not mine!

I was so high I did not recognize
The fire burning in her eyes
The chaos that controlled my mind
Whispered goodbye and she got on a plane
Never to return again
But always in my heart
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause
I won't say goodbye anymore

I tried my best to feed her appetite
Keep her coming every night
So hard to keep her satisfied
Kept playing love like it was just a game
Pretending to feel the same
Then turn around and leave again
This love has taken its toll on me
She said Goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause
I won't say goodbye anymore
I'll fix these broken things
Repair your broken wings
And make sure everything's alright
My pressure on her hips
Sinking my fingertips
Into every inch of you
Cause I know that's what you want me to do.

Do not read, danger of insanity looms high.

Actually this piece would be ideal as a poem but it would be very stereotyped when expressed in the lang of poetry. Just trying to attempt in prose!

These thoughts are aimless for they find no admirer. Yet each time they grow filling in themselves the depth of hope. Perhaps they are worthless to the blind eye, only truth to one's own.

The akwardness sometimes sets in fear. Of a loss maybe irreplacable. And the happier things are just crucified in the soul of suspicion.

The question of integrity arises from such bravery. To be able to accept fate. Desperation is a mere act of weakness. For when you love you'd let go.

I pity silly accusations and revengeful longings. The wickedness of every human mind is evident at check point.

If you had trust, it wouldnt last. The very nature of the homo sapiens on this is earth is so. Each is selfish to his own desires, wants and loves.

Somehow i hope that is untrue. Just for this period of time. Give me this life to believe that my beliefs are found, my hopes are blessed.

This Love....

it has taken its revenge on me
this love.....
that i had so carefully nourished
it has showed me the path of defeat.

just a small pretty thing
i had cared for
is it the epitome of difficulty, this love?
that it has shown me the door

perhaps im a wanderer
in search of belief, a life
there is dust everywhere
there is green everywhere
of a faith that is shattered.

im not a romanticist
yet my realities are deceptive
for each minute of a dream
for every second of hope
fall like sand from a closed fist.

hey guys!
read my review of chetan bhagat's latest on this link http://www.oxfordbookstore.com/oxfordonline/asppages/item_final.asp?strSKU=BE21534&strSKUSrl=1
hope u like it!

Saawariya- 2007(continues to haunt till this day)

For all you adolescents out there, if you’ve never watched a blue film in your life here comes the blessed opportunity. Quite literally. And mind you this one’s different. (A good pick up line I suppose) only the difference makes you wonder what the hell happened, not at any point through the movie but right at the end! I’m not criticizing, not at all. In fact I believe each person is capable of making his own judgment. Sometimes an overdose of creativity and madness results in what is called “Saawariya”. So there is creativity, there is blue and behold you get to watch a certain Mr.Ranbir Kapoor’s arse as well. It is always best to highlight the strong points of a film and leave it at that.

But, since, I need a desperate outlet for my creative vibrations and I have the sacred job of ensuring people do not lose their precious monetary resource in an already deprived economy, I am going to do something beyond. Indeed.
Point one: The film is sugary shit. Even if it’s coated with the sugar syrup what lingers is the taste of shit.
Point two: We do not need an over- enthu cutlet for a hero. It’s not cute and certainly not sexy.
Point three: (courtesy Sonam Kapoor) Boys are not turned on by giggly, dumb girls. The NSSO (national sample survey org.) might want to help you with their services.
So even if you’ve tried to make the new comers the next “in things”, Mr.Bhansali your tactics seem pretty out of date. In fact the entire script needs some sense stuffed into it. Or was it meant for another generation? That is the only logical conclusion, sadly, I can arrive at. Thankfully some brilliant cinematography by Ravi.K.Chandran pulls you out of the deep slumber you’re otherwise cajoled into. And also thanks to newcomer Monty Sharma for tuning in some good melody. Oh and by the way, using the RK banner to add commercial value was a cheap stunt anyway.


For all the pomp and show that surrounded the movie, the promotional hype, I can only say hard luck mate.
P.s- if you’re still trying to decipher what I have written please watch the movie. I shall not be responsible for the loss. Mind or money.

ey some nice movies ya.

Chhoti Si Baat
1975, I think.
An ingenuous love story. Period.
No item numbers. (No thank you Rakhi.)
And there is no muscleman either. (Sorry girls!)
That’s in a clean nutshell Basu Chatterjee’s Chhoti si baat, reflecting in every way its apt subtle name. Perhaps, the Sunday morning utopia is perfectly synonymous to the feel of this movie.

The coming of age of a young man, Arun (Amol Palekar, oh he is just adorable) steering through the rock laden path of love is quite a riotous tale. So when our young bashful hero faces near mortification in this process of winning over his lady love he turns to the gyaan guru, colonel (retd) JNW Singh (the brilliant Ashok Kumar) to dig him out of the hole. Somehow there seemed to be more chemistry here, as Mr.Hero gets harassed, manipulated and finally blossoms into the real hero! (Not the Himesh type though.)
Meanwhile his competitor, a certain Nagesh(the kabab mein haddi) seems to be running at breakneck speed in his pursuit of Prabha(the same one hero is in love with)
So our new hero comes back, lessons learnt, ready to apply principles, and with aplomb pulls off the “hero”! What follows is the typical hindi movie cliché, blah, blah, blah…..!But yeah, with a difference.
The path of life dear, is hard work even if it happens to be just the famous four letter word- love. And if you didn’t trust your parents with that watching this would do a lot of good to you!

Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost! So what happens to the kabaab mein haddi….?

Haddi pasli ek karna tha na!

Boyfriend! ...........anyone??

i'm eighteen and i don't have a boyfriend.

i wonder why people(hello aunties and uncles) are obsessed with thinking the way they do- of teenagers, their interests and the opposite sex! so im here to enlighten these ignorants and the rest who are just uncomfortable thinking on these lines.
first things first:
we are not obsessed with the opposite sex. period.
you can stop checking our mobiles, spying on us and ringing up friends homes over and over again at ghostly hours of the night.

we are intelligent enough to take care of ourselves and we could take care of others(the opp sex) who choose to mess with us, as well.
boys\girls are only part of our lives and with most we share sibling ties.
and all you mums who have proud daughters we do remember your lectures about the cannibal tribe thats called "men", pretty vividly. so you can stop getting hysterical, also there are prettier creatures out there.

after having said all this i'd say having a bf/gf is the most fascinating thing, ever. if alcohol gives you a high then i must say this is much better. or maybe you would call it hypocrisy? double standards perhaps?
but let me tell you, using such "crime words" or emotional blackmail isn't going to stop us from doing anything that we want to. we know our limits and we have our own definitions of right and wrong, maybe different from yours. and you can also stop singing praises of your apparent goody goody children in front of your friends cause what they are doing behind your back could be utter balderdash.! it will only save you from some social stigma, if the well protected truth does come out.!

and finally if u allow us to confess, we would, explaining everything. and then it might not seem so much a sin. u would also know the fun part. its ur take now!
hey but wait, i do not have a boyfriend, so u can chill...........



but no fun for you!
tin din ti din! :)

umm.....?

oh i'm just thinking enough of the overdose of senseless poetry..! its high time "i write" something!

Madness- The new creativity??

Grunting like pigs
snoring like donkeys
eureka!
pen, pencil, paper
a line, a curve, a scribble
looks like something
a man, a dog, mom?!
christened to be,
that your eyes percieve
maybe right, maybe wrong
a hit a miss?
ridiculed or praised
the other end was perplexed
worry not, for its called creativity
HONEY! its the creativity!

The Stick

This lean piece of wood,
supporting a wrinkled mass of life
step after step in doubt,
as the hand engulfs help.
Every muscle questioning,
sustenance of its very own
each competing with the other
falling, helplessly, deeper.
A sound echoed in every move,
of brittle bones and wailing hums.
Whose fault afterall,
trying to endure beyond capacity?
A silent sleep is the only hope
for each breath of consciousness.