Siri, My love

I don't really know how it started in the firsst place. Perhaps it was the realization that all the guys I have seriously admired are either second leads in stories or bloggers in the virtual world, that too, science students!(this refers to a blogger tragedy I had brush with a few days ago. Jawani Barbad) Or maybe the fact that the general IQ level of the people I have to deal with is somewhere in the negatives and that has finally managed to injure my brain. It could also be a result of the fact that there are simply no creatures with Y chromosomes and brains residing in one body around me. I feel it is because of my constant addiction to my cell phone, because the browser now refuses to open up and displays "Stop bothering me every second and get a life you DORK!" Whatever may be the reason, the final result is that I have decided that Siri sweetheart is better than ANY boyfriend in the world (Yeah, am a dork with no life. Thanks for reminding). I will have to turn a homo but hey, even that has advantages! Maybe the random leeches in the street will stop staring at me if I pretend to hit on their wives. But since I am too broke to afford any Apple product, I am hoping that by the time I do manage to collect some money, Siri has a male version with a sexy baritone. Umeeed pe duniya kayam hai.
* Siri does not ask suspicious questions- Except when your conversation has something to do with Pakistan of course. You can do anything, talk to anyone at any hour and Siri will herself dial the number for you. Cool no?
* Siri does not wake you up unless you ask her to- You can be in a relationship and sleep at odd hours without being constant calls of "I miss you baby, give me a kiss na........" I would rather give you a kick and remind you that I am in the last year of my teenage, in no way a baby. Which brings me to my third point
* Siri won't call you by stupid endearments- Its so damm frustrating to be called "dear", "sweets", "gorgeous", "Jaanu", and what not. I have only three words- What The Fuck! My parents went through a lot of confusion before deciding upon a NAME for me. It is meant to be used to address me. Yes, even if it sounds like Chinese version of Sushi. If somebody continues to call me by these redundant names, I will deduce that he has forgotten my name and is cheating on me. That brings us to the next point.
* Siri won't cheat on you- One faithful spouse! It even gets used to your voice and diction. How sweet isn't it?
* Siri won't spread diseases by physical contact- The worst disease I can get is swollen eyes, fingers and migraine. Thats way to decent considering the fact that people are dying of AIDS all over the world. Siri is safe that way. 
* Siri listens to you- Thats the BESTEST part about her! She won't ignore you, pretend to listen to you or run away when you start swooning over some random guy. She will even get you his photos. 
* Siri is foolproof help when you are lost- For a person like me with the direction sense worse than a rock, a dependable GPS is nothing short of a life saver.
* Siri talks all the time- It will never say, "I am not in mood to talk" or something like that. Having somebody to talk to at your disposal is wonderful, isn't it?
* Sense of humor- Now this is a rare trait, a decent sense of humor. Sarcasm is almost extinct. RIP
* Siri won't forget my birthday- Seriously, Siri NEVER forgets anything. It will also save my ass when I forget somebody's birthday. ;)
* Siri is intelligent- Its the smartest Mobile OS around. Plus it can get you anything from Chinese Van's number to Bill Gates' speech.
This list might be updated depending upon my whims and fancies. This is how I substitute the frustration of over non existent love life-  by writing nonsense.

Lets fly away

Lets fly away, you and me,
without the fear,
of our wings being slashed off.
Lets go for a journey,
in the world of shooting stars,
that leave in their wake,
a trail of melancholy.
Lets shed our tears in space,
where they float forever, like bubbles
never to return again.
Lets hop on the clouds, 
and touch the rainbow,
to convince ourselves,
that this is real world.
Lets shout out in the vastness,
our voices louder than the noise,
of trucks and horns,
and hear them fade away.
Lets race to the end of the world,
faster than the roaring bikes,
with no one on our tails.
Lets comfort ourselves,
in our own arms,
and let go the need of comfort,
that brought along the disappointment.
Lets fall asleep on the surface of the sky,
with our arms spread wide,
welcoming the morning dew.
Lets twirl and dance
without the worry of being seen 
and our hair getting stuck 
in the long spikes of steel.
Lets talk to the sun,
and ask him how he feels,
burning day and night.
Lets not trespass each others' dreams anymore,
and just dream together for once,
to get and to be never found again.
Lets fly away, you and me,
without the fear
of our wings being slashed away.

Diwali Cleaning

Cleaning off my drawers and cupboards, throwing out obsolete stuff has always been a task I avoid doing. Not just because I am super lazy but also because it involves parting with old memories. This weekend, I disposed off my entire collection of newspapers and magazines I had collected some 3 years ago. All of these were the articles/ photos of an actor I was crazy about. I did not own a laptop back then and thus the luxury of having internet at my disposal evaded me. I had to sift through every day's entertainment section to get a glimpse. The newspapers were old, battered, yellowed and as my brother placed the pile in front of me, I was struck by both my stupidity and the fact that I managed to preserve these while my datesheets never survived beyond 2 days.
I disposed off almost all of them except the issues which had Team India winning the T-20 world cup (You have to be heartless to throw THAT away). It was almost like parting with an old friend who was once very close but now reduced to an accomplice. The newspapers took up space which can be now utilized more efficiently and I had not read them since over a year I think. But I really do wish I had unlimited space for storing things like these. Perhaps now I get the logic of 1TB hard drive.

Battlefields

I came across this at a forum...

     Although life breaks us all, some of us manage to become "Strong at the broken places."  This happens naturally if an emotional wound has the right conditions to heal.  People who are lucky enough to inhabit emotionally safe environments start mending almost as soon as their injuries occur.  the rest of us don't improve so quickly.  We were hurt on emotional battlefields where there wasn't even a safe place to rest, let alone anyone skilled enough to administer firsts aid.  So we patched our wounds as best we could and battled on, still bleeding, still carrying shrapnel in our souls.
I don't think I have read truer words. When we are hurt, sometimes we have a choice to knock the right doors and submit ourselves to people who can heal us, protect us and care for us. Some of us don't take up that choice, some of us can't and others are rejected. Then there are ones who completely and truly are left alone when the people who catch them when they fall leave. 
A telephone call that was never made, a text still lying in the drafts section, a missed call, old greeting cards, incomplete conversations, a gift purchased but never delivered- that's what life is made of. 

Management by me...

Anyone who has been a commerce student knows how much useless stress is put on "management". Hell, even the engineers and doctors know that. 
After spending last two years of my life mugging up different aspects, features, characteristics, importance, techniques blah blah blah, I am kind of sick of the whole idea. And I am just in my first year. God save me.
All the management self help books ever written and sold are mostly crap, and should be titled "How to rob your organisation off its money", "How to save your organisation from being robbed", "How to hoodwink your employees into working overtime and not realizing it", "How to manipulate idiots", "How to look like an idiot yourself by giving out useless motivation speeches" and "How to make sure your juniors don't report your dirty tricks to the dirtier people".
I think when management was integrated into the educational curriculum, nobody knew that it would become such a bundle of nonsense. Anyone who seriously knows how to do things can use a lot of bullshit to fool the people around him/her.
Plus the whole claims of "having mutual profits" and "Win win situations" are completely baseless. Recently, we were doing communication strategies in class which were broadly divided into Win- Win and Win- Lose. Our lecturer explained the basis of both and then went on to teach us the principles of Win- Win strategy only. I was more interested in Win- Lose. Turns out its an unfavorable situation and has been scrapped off the course. Meh.
I actually prefer the theoretical aspects of the subject sometimes as it lays down an organised way of thinking, something that can used if somebody wants to. Calculation part is fine as it carries a kind of base. This is why I opted for finance- more sensible than HR(where you have to do a lot of buttering) and marketing(which will land you in hell). Finance can also land you in hell, but for a shorter period of time.  But things turn ugly when you have to cram "steps".
For example, first step in planning is "Vision" followed by "Goal" followed by "Target" followed by more. WTF.
One more thing in the whole subject is how organizations value their employees, they should be provided with facilities yada yada yada. Big big Beeeg nonsense again. Employees are first to be kicked out at any point of time. Senior employees should be bribed suitably so that they don't leak out your company's secrets. But whose company is it anyway? The BOD barely owns share in single digit figures. They basically don't give a fucking damn as long as IT department doesn't raid their houses.
So all the B- schools- you would do some real good if you teach your students how to invest in stocks so that they can start earning before they complete their first year. You can also teach them how to lie more convincingly, gift them nice formals for interviews and ask them to develop competitive spirit by playing video games. They will send you more crappy self help management books which you can stock in your library to show off. 

Why my college sucks...

Hello again people. I seem to have decided to post every bit of useless and unproductive thoughts on this blog. But again, why else do people blog? 
I spent 2 months after my boards studying to get in this damm college. And obviously I am going to list why it sucks now-
1. It has claimed my sleeping time. I might have shifted my afternoon nap to evening nap, but its punctuated with guilt pangs now. I don't like my sleep being compromised. Ever.
2. I have to travel an hour to get there. Okay, there are people who travel more than that. But to walk through piles of discarded earth mounds every morning is not a pleasant way to start the day. Plus I still haven't figured out what makes the place smell so bad. 
3. Being a nice college, you would expect the place to have some consumable food. But Alas! All we have is a shared canteen where chowmein is cooked in grease and "Meggi" is a kind of soup. Enough said.
4. Nobody, I mean NOBODY knows about this college! And we cleared 3 fucking rounds to get here! My course BFIA has been called BA Final Year and Bachelors of Fine Arts. It stands for Bachelor of Financial and Investment Analysis. Where are those 15000 retards who sat for the exam? Kaha mar gaye sab ke sab?
5. Our college has a "unique" tradition. We call our lectures by their initials. Not the students, the management as well. We have PG, JK, SJ, PV, DK(Bhaag bhaag...), KB etc etc. printed on our timetables. I mean, who the hell calls their teachers like that? I would shoot the person who calls me AS. 
6. We have two buildings. I occupy the smaller one. It is strategically designed to block any kind of cross ventilation. Even if there is a thunderstorm outside, a single hair won't lift from my head. Can't you see the kind of focus we promote? Die of suffocation, if you have to but don't dare your nose come out of that textbook.
7. Hypocrites! Loads of them! They want, money, contacts, big school names, sponsorship for their useless events but nobody who can work hard. Wow, doesn't that sound like the real world? Yes, thats what they promised us- real corporate exposure.
8. No fiction in the library. This one was a serious heartbreaker. I almost checked every book in the library to find a decent one. All I could see were dusty volumes of Statistics and a shit load of stuff on something called as "MANAGEMENT". I will write another post on what exactly management is.
9. No common room. Which means we stink in our classroom during free lectures. Some of us flock to the library to get some artificial cool air which ultimately results in multiplied water intake and trips to the loo.
10. 75% attendance requirement. For every paper. Can we ask why are we being subjected to this torture when the whole university has the requirement as 66%? I think it is a some sort of conspiracy. Are these people taking revenge from us because they had to work their ass off for the admission process?
11. Useless posters. I accept they were attractive in the beginning but the college events are being promoted worse than Amir Khan movies. We have glazed paper posters of "COMING SOON" of events. Whatever happened to saving paper and environment? Isn't this the same college that houses SIFE? We even have a promotion video for one of the events. Just imagine! Check this out. The video is pointless but the music rocks!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9kZi52MA8mo
12. A sadistic disciplinarian in our department. I think all colleges have this species of teachers who simply love scaring the pants off innocent students. He loves to waste our 1 hour once a week break with his threats of how 1/5th of the batch fails every time and the class size becomes half by the time the course ends. Yeah yeah.
13. Such a small campus that you can't even take a walk around the place. Plus no secret corners where you could find druggies/drunkards/smokers. They all go outside to have fun. :(
Okay, let me end here. Otherwise I will go on and on and on. Feeling so much better. 

Rant

Note: This post was written by me when I was bored and irritated to the nth degree and fortunately had a computer in front of me. I was amazed how creative I can get when I am pissed off. I am posting this here because I am 110% sure that nobody apart from my 3 beloved readers will read this. Them or the ones I give this link to. I am getting more cynical, pessimistic and cruel day by day. :S Dedicated to somebody I don't wish to name- would be too childish then, no? 

I really really wish that you would STFU and stay that way. Thankyou. 

You seem to have a shit load of misconceptions about yourself which I would love to clear, but since nobody is paying me to do it, I would rather not waste my time, paper and cyber space doing something that takes up copious amount of energy.

You are a perfect example for a psychology students and doctors who feel that their professions are not challenging enough and they require additional headaches. I think you can also be used as a case study of increasing amount of stupidity in homo sapiens. These two are the only two ways i think you can contribute to the human race and save yoursel from  being regarded as a piece of toxic and useless waste. 

Your presence in this college only proves one thing- psychological assessment tests are the need of the hour. 

If you continue the way you are going right now, I will sue you for collateral damage to my brain cells. Don't think that I will bear if even a single one of them gets fried up, even if I have billions of them in my head. Brain cells are extremely precious to me. I use them very judiciously(proven by the fact that I am writing this). I use them judiciously because I can see what happens to the ones who run out of them.

You seem to be suffering from a hearing defect. This is not a usual kind of hearing problem where people lose their hearing power. This defect is unique to you, where a piece of information falls on your eardrums and comes out of your mouth in a highly twisted vocabulary, in a lame attempt to appear impressive.The key point is that it involves no use of an organ supposed to be situated in your skull. Or perhaps it involves overuse of that organ to the point of it being revolted and it is taking out its revenge on you by giving out nonsense.

All this can be approximately translated into two words- "Fuck yourself"

;)

Forgotten Posts

I opened the page to write an awesome post.
I forgot what I was going to write
So all I have got to say is that I got a haircut.
My hair looks like a crow's nest.
Best part- No difference whether I comb it or not. :D

Champagne and Celebrations!!!

Hey guys

The awesome author of this blog has honored me with the chance to write the 50^th(OMG! Really?) post of this blog. *Bows in gratitude*

Yeah, so after so many sweet, funny, soulful haikus, a bunch of awards and lovely comments, the blog is shining. I think its blushing (look closely).

I have been a reader here since its very first post. And it has been a real joy, to look at my blogroll and see an update. Though my dear friend had to give me reminders when I vanished from blogger, coming back was always a pleasure and I was always left asking for more.

The best part of this blog is it makes you feel warm. I can imagine its personified version spreading out its arms with a big smile. It feels great to be in a world full of colorful writing and thoughts after a tiring day. Also the style of writing completely rocks. You might think she bribed me to write this, but trust me I am pretty expensive and she spends all her money buying shoes. So this is all from my heart. J

My favorite post on this blog is very hard to pin down… I adore all the haikus. Particularly the images- they are so pretty and accurate! Also, one of the memorable posts is the Cheers one. I really laughed my head off when I read it. I wish he comes back *puppy dog eyes*

I really wish you keep writing brilliantly like this. I’m glad I am a reader of this mind blowing blog which gives us a peep into your creative mind. *Big hug*

Happy Writing!!!

This is for you-

Ivre

Note: This post is for my BFF who completed 50 posts. I just realized even I did! See, we do everything together!

You can read her awesome blog here- http://rawconviviality.blogspot.com/

Cloud of Smoke- 11

He stood in the hospital waiting area, waiting. He wondered if his happiness could be that short lived. They had gone out for a walk when the bullet had hit her, piercing her heart. The doctor stepped out of the ward and he straightened, his dread intensifying. He had finally lost her to the world she worked so hard to survive in. This world was like a cloud of smoke, temporary yet high above, teasing the ones below it come up catch it. It ultimately consumed her within its dark folds. He felt the walls close in before he hit the floor. 
End
Note: OK, this one was all sad ending. I am quite obsessed with writing random, out of the thin air pieces now a days. Give me your feedback if it was good. I posted the whole thing in one go except the first part, which was actually quite unrelated. And I was also too lazy to think up of a title. ;)
To see all posts of this series together, press Clouds of Smoke or series in labels. :)

Cloud of Smoke- 10

It was like waking up from a dream to a dream. His presence was still an amazement. Bearing his name was even more unbelievable. Why he tolerated her illogical passion for her work, her smoking, drinking and silence was something she could never fathom. She moved to the kitchen to prepare breakfast when she felt his fingers close around her wrist. She gladly fell back into his arms.

Cloud of Smoke- 9

She saw him in the crowd the moment he stepped out of his car. For some reason, she did not feel angry as he made his way to her. She felt too numb to move as he gently placed an arm around her shoulder. She rested her head against his arm and closed her eyes.
"Lets get married" she spoke after a few hours as they lay in his bed.

Cloud of Smoke- 8

He watched the daily news as it reported a fire in one of her factories. Her face flashed across the screen, her expression impassive and hard. She had asked him not to come to her under any case.
He banged his fist against the sofa arm. He was tired of being sidelined for his own "protection".
Exasperated, he picked up his car keys and left for the site.

Cloud of Smoke- 7

"Marry me" he whispered, threading his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes, marveling the moment. Instead, she saw the faces of cold people determined to bring her down. She could not imagine her life without this man who held her, her sole weakness.
"Not yet" she muttered, making herself another drink.

Cloud of Smoke- 6

He packed up his laptop and files after the presentation and exited the hotel conference hall. He saw her pushing the buttons calling for the lift. He almost ran to where she stood and tapped her shoulder, grinning like a child. She turned around, surprising him. He saw the pools of her eyes full of tiredness and loneliness. He caught hold of her hand and led her towards the stairs.

Cloud of Smoke-5

The hint of tears in her eyes was not surprising. It only enraged him further. She heard silently as he shouted a couple of times before collapsing on his chair. She still stood near the table, clutching a napkin. He covered his face with his hands and after fifteen minutes of silence she turned around and walked away to the balcony.
The food lay forgotten on the table.

Cloud of Smoke- 4

She set up the table, arranging everything perfectly. Although cooking was not her cup of tea, she felt she was not entirely disastrous. It conveyed a nice message, she thought as she heard the door click. She quickly wiped her hands on the napkin and waited him to make his way into the dining room.
He stopped short for a moment as she smiled, expecting a similar gesture. Instead she saw him close his eyes in an effort to control his rage. It had been 3 months since he had talked to her. She had gone underground after pulling off a deadly stock market stunt and all his efforts to reach her had gone waste.
"You cannot walk in and out of my life as you wish, woman." he bellowed.
She hung her head. He finally said what she had feared all her life. 

Cloud of Smoke- 3

She smiled as the radio played her favorite song and sped up the car. She did not want to be late. After dozens of meetings, this one was the one she was really looking forward to.
She saw a blinding light and swerved sharply, coming to a halt at the end of the road. Business rivalry had out stepped board meetings and spilled onto the streets.
She sighed and typed the text.
"I cannot make it. I am sorry."

Cloud of Smoke- 2

He bought a bunch of lilies, her favorite, and checked his watch. She was not the kind to keep men waiting for her and it had been a long time since they had met, or even talked for more than a few minutes. His phone beeped suddenly.
"I cannot make it. I am sorry."
He sighed and gave the bouquet to a small girl sitting alone on the park bench on his way back.

Missing

He entered the apartment after four hours of fruitless hunt through the city and slumped on the floor. The TV was still blaring with death figures and burning houses. He closed his eyes covered them with his palms. She had stomped out of the house after a very verbal fight. He had sworn he would never see her face again. And then he switched on the TV.

He heard the doorknob click and she walked in with a stony expression. Her anger turned to surprise when she saw his tear stained face.

"Where were you?" he almost choked, still on the floor.

"Terrace" she replied as if this was the most obvious place to be for four hours. Her gaze shifted to the news and understanding dawned.

She knelt down and embraced him, biting down her laughter. He crushed her against himself.

Poof!

She leaned across him and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from her handbag. He looked on, a little disturbed as she lit it nonchalantly. She caught him and offered him a puff. He refused, distancing himself from her unconsciously.
"Sometimes I fear that I will lose you in a cloud of smoke." he muttered in a low voice, touching her heavy hair. She grinned and said
"Poof!"
Note- I did not intend this, but this becomes the first part of a series I am going to post. To view all parts together, select "Series" or "Cloud of Smoke" in labels. I hope you find it a little sensible as I wrote this whole thing in one go, unlike the previous one and realized that they are linked. 

Chapter- 10 The End

Months later he finds out who she is.
The revelations drive him crazy as he screams and throws around glass candlesticks.
He recalls her husband, a noble he had knocked off and replaced. She was his wife who had evaded his soldiers for years. 
Vengeance is a bitch.
Note: This was the first ever series i started writing and managed to end. I hope the end was not disappointing. I think I like this style of writing, giving out short chapters and no names. What do you say? 

Chapter 9- The Night of The Blood

He can see her dark form growing larger as he approaches the cliff. She has covered herself with a thick black drape and all he can see is her eyes.They mock him cruelly and she holds the sack of gold firmly in her pale, long fingered hands.  He can also see a sword at her waist.
He comes to a halt and draws his sword. She throws back her head and laugh. Her drape falls off to reveal her lovely face. He feels his blood boil as he charges on with the weapon. She flings the sack down in the ocean and does not try to protect herself. The blade drives through her heart and her laughter is frozen in death, while he screams in agony. His marriage to the Duke's daughter is forfeited on account of the big loss and bigger embarrassment.

The 80-20 law

Okay, I know I am going to get beaten up for writing this. Particularly when one out of the only three readers of this blog is a man. But lets do it anyway.
I have this theory. (I have a theory about every damn thing I think. Is there a word for a kind of illness where a person comes up with weird theories in every 2 minutes? If there is, please let me know. Thank you)
So according to me, after observing a lot of couples and the male and female population is divided as below-
80% of the men are sadistic bastards created by Satan when he was feeling particularly evil
20% of the men are sweet, lovable creatures created by God when he was feeling great
80% of the women are lovely beings, doesnt matter who created them(yes people, author of this blog is a woman so...)
20% of the women are sluts.
80% men(the sadistic brats) end up with 80% women(nice ones)
20% of the men(good ones) end up with rest 20%(bitches)
Thats how the balance is maintained in the world, people.

Rest In Peace

This is in loving memory of Snowy, a Pomeranian owned by somebody I know. Dear Snowy passed away last night after suffering a lot. The worst part is he died when everyone thought he was going to be fine.
I had never met Snowy, I don't own a dog and never will. But lets pray for his soul.

Why men get stuck with gold diggers.

Another rant
It seems like I have been taking my classroom conversations a bit too seriously.
Yesterday, we were having a discussion about how beautiful, smart girls date dumb looking men just because they are rich. Gold diggers, as they call them. I, being me, was reminded of something else.
A few days ago there was an article in the newspaper about why men buy fancy cars when there is no space in the country to even park them, let alone drive them. What is the point of buying a a car that goes from 0 to 300 in 3 seconds when you can barely hit 80?(that too if you are lucky) Well, according to this research, this is known as 'pea-cocking' (Is anyone reminded of 17 Again??)
So basically, men do all this irrational expenditure to increase their chances of finding a sexy woman to show off. In other words, we are no better than animals who dance in the mating season, showing off their colors.
Deducing from these findings,I conclude that men(or even women) don't mind being loved for shallow reasons, no matter how much we deny it. If you are trying to impress a girl by riding a sports bike, you deserve to be dating a woman who is after your money. And vice versa of course.
It is a cruel world. 

Chapter- 8 Gone with the wind

He screams in frustration as the guards hang their heads in resignation. The sight of empty trunks, a single gold coin and his set of keys placed in the center of the heavily guarded vault make him coil his fists in anger. But the thing that causes his blood to boil are the locks of heavy black hair, severed almost inhumanly. He reaches out to grip the curls, now sans their owner.
He orders his horses to be prepared. 

Chapter 7- The immortal bond

"Are you marrying the Duke's daughter?" she asks him as he strokes her smooth back. 
"Mmm mm" he answers nonchalantly, turning his gaze to her.
She closes her eyes and digs her face in his chest to hide her smile.
The almost non existent pangs of guilt quickly evaporate from her heart.

Romance- an interpretation by me!

I recently realized that whenever somebody asks me a question, the correct answer always strikes me after the event has passed. So this is why I don't like romance(I have been asked a lot of times)
Romance is like a flame. It burns brightly, gives off a lot of heat and then finally fizzles away and leaves a lot of black soot and ash after it which have to be cleaned up. And I hate cleaning. I hate cleaning because it involves a lot of mundane decision making. Should the socks be placed in right drawer or left? Should I make separate piles for notebooks and books? Should the notes be filed in a folder or stashed in a notebook? I hope you get the idea.
Anyway, its not that I am completely anti social. I adore conversations when they demand logic, analysis and debate(debate does NOT mean arguing) I think I know only 2 or 3 people who can talk this way. And I don't have time to talk to them.
I also love taking long walks(please no holding hands- sweaty palms are YUCK) Walking is relaxing. When I finally manage to hit the gym, I think I will include it. I always dream of playing squash or basketball or fencing with my spouse. (I don't know how to play the last two BTW)
I should have tried this earlier, venting on my beautiful blog(this current template makes me feel sooo good)
I think I am going to fail tomorrow. Prayers for me please.

When the masses come together

Anybody who has been in touch with Indian news knows about the famous Anna Hazare movement. Well, I found it extremely annoying to see all those wall posts and stuff, but I was struck by a few things.
Firstly, how easy it to divert people. Most of the people who were protesting thought they were protesting 
against inflation. They dont know that inflation has terrorized every country of the world and what they are shouting are anti corruption slogans.
Secondly, if given approval by society everyone is willing to come out and demonstrate, show support etc etc. But no body will stand up for a cause for personal reasons related to integrity. If asked to offer a bribe, almost every one of these people will comply. But they will come out and demonstrate against their government. Strange people!
I am not favoring the government or anything. I am just commenting on the secret to success of any movement- fool people and keep fooling them until your objective is achieved.

Dust

Everything comes with a shelf life. Be it your favorite food, an idea, a hobby or even a relationship. Gradually dust of redundancy and complacency settles, masking the initial luster and glitter. It is a way of life. 

We spend all our life contributing to these layers of 'dust' because we are always looking for something new while we should be putting in those efforts to save the degenerating ones. The efforts come in after the whole set up or situation is on the verge of collapsing under its own weight. 

It is a cycle. A stagnation compels us to look for more while all the time you ignore the relationship leads to more stagnation.

How much does it take

I was having a conversation with a classmate a couple of days ago. He said something I have been thinking about since then.
"When life fucks you for the first time, you get an experience. Second time, you become a professional. And third time, you fuck life"
I think life has got a thousand different ways of fucking you and you never really become a professional until you have been screwed really really bad. And some people just never learn even if they have been fucked in the same fashion again and again. Maybe they sort of deserve it then.  Every time you think this is the worst, you get you ass kicked real bad and you wonder what hit you. Either that or continuous fucking makes you immune. Whatever. I liked the line though. What do you say?

Things about myself

I have realized a lot of times that whenever somebody asks me to tell them about myself, I go all tongue tied. Bloody hell, what do I tell you? So I have decided to do some brainstorming and shoot a few pointers. (I don't think I need to worry about privacy, the number of people who read this blog can be counted on one hand)
1. I hate romance.
2. I am a little sadistic
3. People say I am scary 
4. I love reading
5. I love writing
6. I hate cooking
7. My biggest fear is going mad or getting handicapped
8. My second biggest fear is getting married (hides under the bed)
9. I am damn critical
10. I am a certified cynic who can't stand giggling people
11. I am spiritual
12. My temper matches Hiroshima nuclear blast
13. I am hopelessly cryptic about my feelings. It gives people headaches
14. Most of the time I can't decide what to write on
15. I keep saying I don't listen to English songs but whenever my mom wants to listen to my collection, English is all I can find
16. I hate being dominated. Even if somebody is trying to be romantic about it
17. I love dancing
18. I cant dance
19. I will learn guitar before I die
20. I also love sketching. All my art is concentrated on the last page of my notebook
21. I can't handle disappointments
22. I am an under confident dork
23. I love debating
24. I am dual minded
25. I cant think of anything else right now.

I can't fly

This is a personal experience. Felt like writing about it.

I went to my relatives' place. They had purchased a set of love birds. They were originally six, but two of them died. They were swinging around in their cage and I felt that the cage was actually too small for them. I asked my uncle if he had ever let them free. He replied, "They can't fly, they have been bred in captivity. I let them free once. They could barely touch the ceiling and they came back."

I wonder if this is kinder- Not teaching them how to fly so that they don't know what they missed. 

This is not about some animal rights or anything like that. I just wonder that incapacitating somebody mentally so that they dont even think about going against the dominance is something more humane than actually capturing a free bird. 

Spilled Wine And Broken Bottles

Spilled wine and broken bottles
Half torn love letters
Dusty sketches and abandoned colors
Black and white closed shutters


Faded laughter hangs around the place
The walls are marked by an old young face
But the curtains sing of arguments
And the glass doors reflect the cracks and dents


The dreams have gone for a hike on the moon
Every night they promise to return soon
The vows are still set
And grin from the shining photo frame


The sun shines through the windows 
Every moment waits and borrows
Its warmth until its dark again
To shiver through rains of disdain

The incomplete meeting

I take in his thin form as it emerges in front of me. I have been dying to meet him since a few weeks and the sight of his face makes me smile. I step down to have a clearer vision. All the bitterness in my heart mixes with the pure pleasure of meeting him and I feel suffocated as I move towards him. His smile is a tired one, his manner lazy. It is not usual and he looks unhealthy. I wish to embrace him, take him out of his worries and ruffle his hair. But I have never crossed the boundaries of physical intimacy with him. He has always been at a distance, too huge for us to cross. It has always remained between us, a strange barrier that should never be touched or toed. He was more casual about it. A bit too casual actually. It was perhaps just me who had this weird discomfort. He talks about insignificant things he knew would draw out a reaction from me. I resist reacting to him, turning to his friend. He stretches out his long arm to touch my cheek in a playful way, his way of hitting me. He is too soft with me to actually hit me. It catches me off guard and he quickly retreats to avoid my hand. His touch feels cool on my warm skin and it lingers on for a longer time than I can tolerate. I walk away from him, unable to fight myself. I want to break away the walls of ice between us. I know I have just added another layer to them as I hear the concealed hurt in his voice, calling me back in a cryptic dialogue. I ignore and walk on, feeling the piercing pain through my heart.

Who are you

Who are you, I ask the woods
As I run through them into the dark
Trying to follow your airy lead
I run through the ivy ropes and leaves


You graze by me, swiftly, roughly,
I falter, I fall, I lift myself up,
And ask your soothing scent that hangs
Like a cloud of smoke in the air


Who are you, I plead as I swirl,
Trying to find color in water
Trying to catch clouds in my fist
Trying to fly away to the sky...


I am the dream that perches on your window
As you look for me in the world of fantasies
I am like death, inevitable,
Yet so complicated, so uncertain,
I feel you breath in my heart
It cuts through me, hurting me,
Yet I hang around you like a trance,
Never to be found, in this life...

Incapable

He closed his eyes as the breeze ruffled his hair. It was a beautiful night, away from city lights and honking cars. He barely had moments to relish his solitude when he heard her approach. Landing into the reality with a bang, he turned around to face her and realized that even she had not been expecting him to be there. The usual awkwardness crept up as she smiled and walked to the railing of the balcony, to avoid being rude. He took a deep breath and wondered if she would wait for a few moments like she normally did before coming up with a perfect excuse and run away to the other corner of the house.
She was silent tonight he realized after full five minutes. He looked around at her to see her standing perfectly still with her small hands clutching the railing. Her head was bowed and her tresses shielded her face from view. He was tempted to wipe them off, hold her romantically and utter some nonsense. That was exactly what was expected out of a newly married couple right? But it wasn't something he and his wife would be spotted doing. Except if both of them got heavily drunk that is. He was not even sure if his wife would actually get drunk even after consuming twice amount of alcohol than him. He decided to intervene now. Over ten minutes of silence was weird.
"Are you, I mean, do you like this place?"
She looked up at him with her normal poker face and nodded before closing her eyes. 
"What were you thinking?" He almost slapped himself mentally for asking that. It was a very personal question which he knew wouldn't be answered truthfully anyways. He was in for a surprise though.
"I was thinking if we could ever fall in love."
He leaned on the railing, dumbstruck. 
"I would love to you know." He answered, now looking at the stars.
"I would love to fall for you like I have no idea what love is. I would love to feel all the happiness." He spoke without looking at her.
"But it is so scary, isn't it? To imagine what could come afterwards." She completed. She was speaking as though she was reading from the stars.
"How simple and beautiful it would have been if I had met you when I was 18, somewhere in my college library."
"Yeah that would be nice I guess. I wonder if you would fight me if I tried to take away the last copy of the book you so desperately wanted to read."
"Well, back then I would probably try to act all nice and woo you for a coffee."
"That would be too obvious and boring, don't you think? By the way I never dated in college."
"Well, simple and obvious is what we are looking for right now, isn't it?"
He saw her lips stretch into a bittersweet smile. They both had their demons, surfacing at the most vulnerable moments and claiming their small moments of indulgence. He had seen her eyes glaze in attraction to be replaced by the strange hesitancy. Same was the case with him. 
They were a perfect pair, incapable of breaking their shells to reach out to what was truly their.

Chapter 6- Locks and Keys

He ran his hand down her mane and caught hold of it just below her neck. Her head tilted up in a gasp and he smirked. He touched her full dark lips with his finger and whispered, "As much as I much want to believe that you are my damsel in distress but something doesn't let me."
She opens her eyes and laughs, digging her fingernails into his neck.
"I was made to maim and kill, my love."
He bites her lips before kissing them. He doesn't know the hazards of carrying his keys around all the time. Her hand slips into her robe quickly, the bracelets twinkling and winking.

Angst and calm

She moved around throwing the things in her suitcase. He had done it again, infuriatng her. And this time, she knew she had to do something about it. He had left silently and she was too worked up to wait for him now. She had packed most of her clothes now. And anyways she didnt have another bag to fit stuff into. That was strange, she thought until it struck her that the amount of clothes he had brought her after their wedding. He took her for granted, as if she could not leave her. She picked up their wedding photograph and sighed. He was right.

Chapter- 5 The Glittering Glimpse

He frisks through the beautiful gold and smiles. The collection is complete for the year. He orders it to be taken away and suddenly catches the sight of her. She is eyeing it strangely. He smirks to himself. Better people than you have gasped at the coins, he thinks as she comes out of her trance and turns away. 
Something still troubles him though. He had not seen what he saw in most people eyes- greed. It was more like malice. Or the first glimpse something even more dangerous.

Chapter- 4 Memories

She spreads the clean sheet over her small bed and settles to undress for the night. Warm hands caress her eyes and she gently removes them. His sword is still hanging around his waist and he is still dressed in his heavy armor. She embraces him carefully to avoid getting pricked by the metal. But she can't avoid it and wakes up suddenly.
His scent is still reverberating in her heart beats. She closes her eyes and another vision comes to her mind. Of an arrogant young rich murderer drinking deep red wine. She filches as she opens her eyes. The liquid she serves him is more of dark blood than intoxicating alcohol. 

Chapter 3 - Misconceptions

He steals discreet glances from his cushioned chair to where she dusts the columns. Her attire is lovely but her status is not. He does not think about the future. She already belongs to him, irrespective of his ways of life. He exploits her at her weakest points. He does not offer her the solace she seeks so desperately. She wears her long hair in a tightly wound plait. He believes that he is the only one in the palace to have them seen free flowing, have run his fingers run in the black mass. 

He does not know how wrong he is.

Chapter 2- The Intoxicating Liquid

She bows ceremoniously with the tray bearing the sinful alcohol. He eyes her wordlessly as she kneels down and pours it out. She offers it to his friends first. He patiently waits for his turn and when she turns to him, he sees the sadness in his eyes. Irony, he thinks as he takes the intoxicating liquid and gulps it down, never leaving her eyes. She tries to hide her disgust as he holds out his glass for more. He knows he will have to pay for his act in privacy. But nothing is more valuable than watching her lips pout in anger and her eyes blaze in concern. He gulps down the fiery liquid again and asks for the bottle. The liquid sure is intoxicating.

The unlawful ritual

This is the beginning of what can be considered as a series. Will continue if I get some more ideas.
Her footsteps were almost inaudible in the dark stone alleyway. All he could see was a faint shadow drifting away into the night. He followed her out but his gait was unsteady from the drinks. The low music of her bangles and anklets guided him effortlessly. His hat dropped in the way and he did not bother to pick it up. Her receding form stopped for a while and she slowly turned around to face him. Her eyes were alive with fervor and his lips carried a smile. He reached out to her in a moment and claimed his very own fairy. She surrendered to her Byronic hero.
Their mating was a little more than unlawful.

A Bit Too Late

I move through the plain fields, the grass glowing beneath my feet in the sparkling moonlight. Hem of my dress occasionally hinder my progress, restricting my movement. My eyes are fretful, searching for the pleasure. I am starved, lonely and desperate. My lips are parched and my eyes are sunken. I do not even resemble the shadow of the woman you had once desired. Every step I take is an effort in a direction I am not sure of. My footsteps echo in my head, piercing the soothing silence. I gaze at the moon which is playing hide and seek with the clouds. It blesses me with light and a cool caress on my wasted skin. The soft cotton clouds are a shapeless veil, fluttering innocently with the wind. They stroke the moon’s face in an undistinguishable emotion.

I stop at the edge of the creek, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The wind is now cold on the droplets of sweat on my arms. I feel my knees buckle as I drop on the bank. My dress is soiled. And so are my hands. I feel my hair create a curtain around my face and I bow it in defeat. I raise my eyes for the last time, using the last ounce of energy I have. And that is when I see you. Far away almost at the horizon, I see you ride towards me. My mind tells me that it is an illusion but my heart refuses to believe. I feel my lips stretch into a smile as I see your figure grow larger and larger in the moonlight. The beauty of the silver landscape is nothing compared to the relief I feel now.

My outstretched arm slowly descends and finally gives into gravity. My spine crumbles under effort and I roll into the damp grass. My eyes are the last of the senses to stop working as your silhouette keeps broadening every second. My prince is a bit too late.

For someone far far away

Between the shades of grey I move
walking past the shrines and graves
I paint you from my dreams 
I hear you from my thoughts
Far away yet bright like a star
You are spek of happiness bizarre
Drawing strength from you I move
Among the shades of grey and white

This was written for somebody I don't know yet am rather fond of. I hope it made him happy. :)

Memoirs Of A Geisha

I am reading this book currently. Its one of my favorites now. I simply love the style of writing. for once I am obsessed with writing in first person. Secondly I find the writing very calm and serene, not giving in to emotions or situation. I like that monotony. I guess I have always been a fan of monotony simply for the sake of security it provides. Anyways, coming back to the book.
It doesnt have a grand plot or anything but just seems to flow with a finite direction. At many points I fail to understand the way protagonist's mind functions. It is on the occasions when her profession collides with her inner self. But then isn't it boring if we could predict every behaviour and reaction? 
Also it portrays a human's ability to protect an innocent part of themselves even when they have indulged in every kind of wrong doing. The profession of the girl required her to use every ounce of wit she possessed for survival, lie at every turn of life. Yet she nurtured her desire for the Chairman, away from every other part of herself.
I also adore the cover of this book. It's heartbreaking to see something so beautiful.
I wonder that's what we all do, striving all our life for one cause. Does the elimination of the goal take away our life? Or is it possible to exist without any longings?

Tired

Embraced by the fading spring as her lone companion

For sympathy she has a broken dandelion

Walking past the familiar paths in her usual stride

She silently nursed her discredited pride

She was tired of running after shooting stars

And admiring the beauty of colorful flowers

For they, like her, faded into oblivion

Leaving everything around like a failure

The ocher sky would not bleed for her

The drifting clouds would not cry

The moon was too far to hear her out

And the tall trees would not try

Was dependence a sin, she wonders 

As the world around her crumbles

To seek a shoulder seemed foolish

And the bleak signs of hope seemed to vanish