29 March, 2008

Ok dudes!!! I am really flattered but the post about the kid, affair and the who ha is fictional :-) no resemblance of any person dead or alive... its the beauty of creativity !!!

Love ya guys! :-)

For sometime I will be

28 March, 2008

I am a born optimist,
The world made me a depressive
My indecisiveness will lead to my downfall,
Dreaming high and mighty tall.

Bones and bones is all I am and can be
In ashes you will see me live
My grave, my lies and, my sin,
Alive they are, are my kith and kin

Painted by every stroke of the magic wand
the curvature has skewed my being
I am a distorted profile of myself
Hold me , Hold me tight
For I am ... For sometime I will be...

Signing off...

25 March, 2008

I could not function yesterday. I was demotivated to head to work. All I could think about is those three magical days.

Amchi Mumbai, as people call it was everything I expected it to be. Hot, Humid and so comforting. I reached the Chatrapathi Shivaji airport late but I spotted my friends immediately. At that time I couldnt care less about the flight that came late or the monday when I need to go to office.

He kept saying that his house is small and that I might feel claustrophobic being a huge gang. I, for the first time, realised that size really does matter. Huge, welcoming hearts his family had. I felt I knew them since a long time.

He was forever asking us to come to his farmhouse. He described it to be 4 tents hoisted in the middle of a pig sty where we needed to poo between the broken branches of a palm tree. No palm trees in that hill station. Only strawberry fields. No pig sty. Only Emu breeding area. We had come to the Wild!!! Expect only him to do this to us!

The drive to the airport was not the hardest thing to do. Hugging the three of them and saying goodbye just felt horrible. I dont know what this is. This feeling. I have not felt like this ever. I cant wish for it to never come this way next time neither can I wish for it to!

Signing off...

The kid, a family and the affair

24 March, 2008

I walked with my head hung low. I could not stand up to the interrogations by my father. It was after all my mother’s friend. He had come to our house. I couldn’t stop him. I could not bang the door on him. I had no rights to throw him out of my mother’s house. My father asked me again, “how can you not ask him not to come back? How can you laugh and make conversation with him? Do you not care about how I feel? Do you not care about me?”

He spoke well. He spoke well to my mother. He was took her out for lunch, dinner or just a long drive out of her home. With him she was herself. She was just her. She did not have a daughter she needed to tend to. She was not a mother. She was just another woman. He was her break from the world. He was her way of having the fun she deserved in her life for love had failed her and she had failed the test of love.

I shuttled between my father’s house and my mom’s house. I faced the same music every single time. I was asked the same questions. I was told the same things.

“You don’t understand how pure and unassuming our love was…”

“Your mother and I were completely in love with each other. I don’t know what went wrong.”

“Everything was going fine. But we split up a year after you were born.”

“If it were not for you I would have told your mom to fuck off I would have been happily married to another woman by now.”

“People wondered how I got such a beautiful woman to marry me. They wished us to be miserable.”

“It is up to you to make us get back together. You can make all the difference. How will you get married otherwise? How will any guy’s parents want to get their son married to a family like ours?”

I was no superwoman. I did not even have the strength to look any person in the eye or pose for a solo picture. Neither did I have guts to tell my dad that I cant do what he wants me to nor did I in actual have the balls to tell my mother what he wanted me to. I wanted the only problems in life to be who took my pencils, how much I need to get to be the first in class and what I did or did not want to have for dinner. I did not want to know the terms of my parents divorce. I did not want to hear about the blame game that grown-ups so love to play but I was forced to hear all of that and more. I did not want to know. I wanted to be left alone.

I am alone now. I have grown up. I am not being asked the questions I was so used to hear. I have become a detached sentimentalist. I couldn’t care less about what people want me to do or want off me but I cannot stop from being depressed blaming myself. I think it’s a deadly combination. I am upset and so is the other person. I feel I am not answerable to anybody and for anything that I do.

I got older and so did my parents. He did not mean anything to my father anymore. Neither did he mean anything to my mother. They lay on their death beds filled with unfulfilled dreams, humiliated with the decisions they made in their life, they wondered how I became a person with no heart and soul for them. How I had only feelings for the people I thought I cared for. If they had nothing to give, I left. I left and as I walked away, with no remorse of their impending death, they asked me,

“How and when did you stop caring for us?”

He bought me chocolates. He bought me ice cream. He was showered me with the love I would I wanted my dad to give me. A child knows only tangible things. Love was a two-way street. He touched me. I couldn’t tell.

“How did you let life happen to me?”

Force a face

06 March, 2008

When you force a face upon
On a body you want to care for
Do you reckon?
If emotions will make any noise,

Chartered on a rein-less chariot
On a journey you embarked on
Do you have a map?
For the eyes to make the choice,

What is left to unveil?
On a mirror bridged by cracks
Do you see a reflection?
Of my heart in my voice

Counting the ticks of the hand
On the various truths that lies
Do you claim Juxtaposition?
It a test of your calm and poise

(An after-thought: Did the red rose become the expression of love?
When a joyous lover cried blood on a pure white)

She will be loved 13 times in a row :)

02 March, 2008

Its been quite sometime since I heard one song over and over again...! This song has beautiful lyrics and though its not a new song... I want to reiterate tha fact that its worth a listen, 13 times :)
Raise your Shoulders and Fall back on your Knees, Piss through a Dime For the Whole World Sees