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.