Sunday, December 16, 2012

Pro Found!

Incessantly obsessive to the point of no return
And tortured by the figments of my own imagination
Endless nightmares of slender pointed points that are pointy
Of pencils that reverently glide on smoothly on every surface my consciousness can dream about
And circles in my brain
Round and round
Circles so perfectly large
Encompassing all that I know
So gently and at the same time so haphazardly strewn about
I just want it to stop
Constantly restless in pursuit of all things unreachable
And so all the more alluring to my greedy mind
So obsessed
So consumed with the littlest of details
Fed up myself of my running around
Trying to escape from the scary side that I can't deny I have inside
I just want closure
Want to be clear
And in control
And tame this wild crazy mind of mine
Realising all my flaws altogether
I get one whiff of attention
And I'm consumed by it
Driven solely by it
Seriously wrong is something with me
I need to relax my brain
And learn to be sane again

Friday, December 07, 2012

Quotes continued!

If you rest, you rust.

Your conscience is the measure of the honesty of your selfishness.

The truth you speak has no past and no future. It is, and that's all it needs to be.

When life gives you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like ''Whaaat!''

Let ME become what I am, and then YOU and ME can consider becoming WE.

If it's important, you'll find a way. If it's not, you'll find an excuse.

Having been fucked is no excuse for being fucked up.

The WHYs are for the wanderers and the HOWs are for the wonderers.

All that you want and can be is all that you already are.

Problem is an overprotective father of his shy but frustrated daughter Solution who eventually breaks free from his clutches.

When you've come you've also gone from the place you've come from.

Force yourself to get what you like or else you'll be forced to like what you get.

Better prevent and prepare than repent and repair.

The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.

Who you are is what you were, what you want to be and also most importantly what you never want to be. Knowing this with complete conviction is the secret to fearlessness and complete serenity.

The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.

When you say yes to others, make sure you are not saying no to yourself.

What good can one derive from understanding the world when one does not understand oneself.

The phrase seeing is believing lacks realism and so is flawed. In reality one needs to just believe to be able to see.

It's seemingly difficult to squash one's dreams but in actuality one's dreams are regularly and willingly forsaken for the sake of ease and resigned settlement.

The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.

See plus plus, before C++

My wife I
Love my wifi
In the middle of Shanghai
Where the birds they fly so very high
And there I sit and sigh
For my life seems to pass me by
In times like these all I want to do sit wail and cry
My life now seems dull and dry
Once in a blue moon dear wife do you even utter a hi
And I miss you so much, oh my
But you just think I'm content with the wifi
But my dear there's more to hear I won't lie
Even though you may not know the root of pi
I still love you I sometimes wonder why
But you are walking away, just breezing by
I can't stand it, yet again I cry
And so I shall willingly my brain in deep oil fry
And hope to slowly, painfully die
For to dream again of us together is too hard to even try

Friday, November 30, 2012

Babbling, Bumbling Band of Baboons!

The tigress, head of the great baboons' congress
Was in great distress
For failing to impress
And the baboons they started to get a little restless
With the way the tigress
Always seemed to be clueless
About all things that should have kept her in abundant stress
So she decided she would digress
And start cleaning all the terrible mess
She hoped this time she would win this political game much like chess
And conquer votes if nothing else
Against her opponents more blessed
For short were their periods of recess
And more conscientious they were about peace and silence
For in a land where lay a huge abscess
It was vital for there to be a more hands on chief I must confess
Here it was not a matter of a lucky guess
The baboons they looked the same, what likeness
In thought too they were difficult to oppress
So it came to pass and the baboons all said yes
We need one of our own, one with utmost zest
To stand up to the opponent and the tigress
And claim what was always their seat, and rule it best!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

My theory about the names of months!


There is no doubt that the person who named all the months was a genius. My theory is that before he could pen them all down he told his son or friend and then passed away tragically and this friend/son was young and daft and so he struggled with the last 4 names. That's why there's ER from Septemb..errr, to DecembER! So technically it's supposed to be Septemb something, Octob something, Novemb something but he couldn't remember so he just ERr-ed. However it is likely there is no something after Decemb and it was intended to be Decemb only. He must have been wondering about a 13th name so he wrongly for one last time ERr-ed again. On the other hand it could be that the last 4 months are not ERrors after all and that they have EMBERS in them signifying the burning end that in this case is the year. But that is not fair to October who's stuck with an OBER (read ogre) and so is unhappily the odd one out and wants for it to get over! So yes I am content sticking with story no. 1. Even though this is not much content to be content with!

Cornish Grapes... No. Rawest poem minus mystery!

Efforts to drive away this madness inside
This overpowering drive

I just want to be able to be as undefined as I can
Unrefined thoughts in a orderly appearing mind
I want to lend weight to my limitless imagination
Fuel my undying desires
And pursue my dreams without any inhibitions
I want to be fearless
And want to be inspired to do all this and all that
I claim to know what I seek
When what I seek is what I wouldn't naturally be drawn toward
When what I know is enough to make me feel closed up than ever
I need inspiration I need strength
To go after all that I would never
To do all that I can
Not all that I must
All that I must
Is all I always do anyway

So what point in such effort
When I myself am driving toward the madness
Instead of steering clear far far away
And being what I always end up being
With cowardice filled to the brim
And all hope extinguished from my so very weak eyes

Sunday, October 28, 2012

123rd Post!

Dear You,
This is probably the gayest post I will have ever written. Actually I might write a lot gayer shit once we find each other (saying once I find you seems like I did all the work of finding). But I hope this is the gayest post anyway. Dear you who I will love ridiculously too much in the future. You and I have not met yet and am 20 so I have enough time. I think by 40 you should come around or I should come around to where you are (in case you're in Estonia or something.) Okay, you. I am deeply infatuated with the idea that we'll have a very nicely dramatic journey over which I will get to use all the many love songs I love so dearly on, to and for you. I don't think of myself to be a romantic person because that sounds gay in my head. (not gay in the homosexual way in case readers of this are a little too ignorant or sensitive but gay in the lame kind of sense. I only use gay for lack of a better word. I am unfortunately not as progressively good at my English.)

Yeah so you who I have not yet met or maybe I have but no brewing has started yet, I spend a lot of time with music. When I think of super deep songs for example My Love by Sara Bareilles or Dangerously in Love by Beyonce I feel overwhelmed. Because I feel like I am capable of feeling that kind of love and I wonder how lovely it would be to give that love and write songs about that love and sing them to you on long nights in our quaint little country home near hills but not scary big hills nice medium sized ones that can be hiked up to daily followed by elaborate breakfasts and playtime with our pugs. You could play an instrument and be a decent singer, not better than me or I would get a complex but nice enough to sing along with during midnight duets by campfires. And not only love songs make me think of you. All types of songs. I imagine us doing covers and singing together when we're doing housework on the weekends or in the car and going omg I'm so glad you know this song. But it's not only music. It's in other things. Small things that I think of that make me wonder about you.

I don't really have a list of things I want and am looking for in you. I think it's unrealistic to expect things. If you get me and I get you it doesn't matter what you do and what you look like. I think relationships that last a lifetime are essentially really true friendships because anyway we're not gonna be doing it when we're 64. (yay first Beatles reference.) I am not actively looking for someone to love because that's almost always futile. Even if you do that it wouldn't really work. You'll just end up fake falling with the first guy who is nice to you and feel deluded for a few weeks till he does one small petty thing that you find stupid or whatever and you realize you've been fooling yourself and it's just a physical thing or a 2 day crush. So it's better to just patiently wait and be sensible about what you're feeling!

I don't know why I am going off topic. This is supposed to be my future post to you who I am going to end up with. I don't think I have much more to add. Maybe I'll mention a few things that I expect you to be. (obviously there's some sort of list otherwise I wouldn't bother with this!)
1. Okay so you need to be able to communicate. By that I mean you should know how to speak good English and be able to say what's on your mind. I don't want to deal with someone who's more emotional than I am and from whom I have to coax out their feelings. If you can't talk to me then dude I'm not gonna sit and go mad overthinking what is going on. Communication is key. You should be good at listening too.
2. You should be taller than me. I'm 5'6''.
3. You should be smart but in a non condescending and annoying preferably cute and patient teacher kind of way.
4. You should own a pug ideally but it's good enough if you love dogs and kids.
5. If you read a lot and do some social work or show inclination towards volunteer work that would be nice. You should be curious about learning new things and not closed up or narrow minded. Also we should share common beliefs about important things like God and stuff.
6. I don't like flattery. I don't like being told what to do. I don't want 10 calls a day. I really really love my space. I'm starting to sound so weird to myself now. I should stop.
7. Respect. If your mom's brought you up well you'll be a gentleman. You should show respect not only to me but to anything that is ought to be respected. Arrogance is disgusting and it's not cool or right. Know who you are but don't amp up that idea of yourself to a level that is undeserving.

Yeah I guess that's about it. 7 things (7 happens to be my lucky number. I wonder if that's because it's my birthdate!). Not really 7 I'm sure it's a lot more just squeezed into 7. Anyway I think I'm done. Ok bye.

Fearless and Fiery Figments of Freedom

The power of the unsaid broken words born of a messed up broken world
Can be seen in her eyes
In the way she works and the way she slowly strides
It's a daily grind
Her life is one slow motion ride
And her friends they say nothing
For what friends she has all are but one
Her little child is her everthing
And her little baby is her only joy
The only one in whom she finds no fear in her tiny blacker than black eyes
Her baby will do the things
That she could not afford to dream of doing
She'll fly and she'll be fearless
Without any woes
Without misery

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Bother Brother Breather Brothel Bladder Lather Broth

Betti was feeling particularly hot and bothered at the end of her hard work day at the brothel. As she sat to lather herself in the quaint little bath tub she felt like this was a breather she greatly deserved. Her brother sat in the foyer untying his shoes when suddenly he felt the urge to pee, his bladder engorging with 2 liters of pale yellow urine. He dashed into the toilet where Betti lay languidly in her tub the sounds of her breathing soft and mellow. As he relieved himself he realized he forgot all about the heavy meaty broth that was now quietly spilling over the edge of the earthen pot. As Bertie set the table in their dark almost formidable looking room Betti tip-toed her way in wearing her peach pink bathrobe, her feet still damp and soaked from her luxurious oatmeal and sandalwood bath. She dropped the expanse of her behind down onto the hugely dense and comfortable sofa and switched the stereo on. Tonight she was too tired to let the jazz special trouble her. Jazz reminded her of her ex husband, a sax player. She was in no mood to eat and soon she dozed off her neck positioned awkwardly on the side of the leather recliner. Bertie ate his meal with great gluttony. It was his only meal after all. Tired too from the long work hours of manual labour at the mine and his body unwashed and marked with stubborn tar, Bertie blew off the candle burning in the lamp and laid himself onto the rat chewed mauve carpeting, a heavy lump of sorrow rising in the depths of his throat as he recalled the loving memories of their 3 days-now-dead bunny Alfred.

Thursday, October 04, 2012

B&W

Black indicates depth while white assumes a paper like quality and thus in comparison falls flat in our imaginations. This is because we associate black with darkness and darkness incites fear of the unknown. Fear of lurking danger and unending creepiness. The presence of black holes in the universe is supportive to the theory of black having depth. Imagining a white hole is made difficult because of this. Although if you really think about it, white could have just as much depth if not more and could induce a lot of fear. White is blank. In a white world there would not be chaos at all. But instead a deepening sense of complete and utter deathlike silence that doesn't echo because there's nothing for it to bounce off on. Complete quiet that would cause a drastic opposite of the feeling of being peaceful. And then you have grey areas that connect the two on a whole new level. Grey would be too dull. I couldn't live in such a dismal world. I'd rather live in a fruit. Like a microscopic insect I would bite my way into an orange and feed on tiny orange whatdoyoucallits that taste like sweet heaven sun bathing.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Moon we meet again

The Moon is my nighttime mate
Once a month the Moon is visible right through my window
I lay myself down on my familiar pillow
And gaze at my familiar moon
It glows and shines and is forever silent
Watchful
And comforting
The Moon is my forever friend.
It's the only thing in my world
That reminds me of the other worldly ness of the world
Of several gazillion moons
Orbiting several gazillion planets
In several gazillion galaxies
And those moons I'm sure
Like my Moon
Also have many blue black red pink alien friends
Who like me
On a night like this one
Can see their Moon
And gaze
And be gazed at
Thank you Moon
I love you Moon
You are as sure as the sun
Although, in hindsight
You are surer still
For you don't give me any sun spots
And don't threaten to kill me with your UV rays

Saturday, September 01, 2012

Alphabets Explained

A is a triangle with legs
B is 2 very close friends 1 and 3
C is half a circle
D is a harp
E is house
F is a comb
G is a step inside a C
H is two friends shaking hands
I is a really thin man
J is a hook
K is two arrows colliding
L is a nose
M is a V necked sleeveless top
N is two friends one feet obsessed
O is a circle
P is a big head & breasted woman
Q is a circle with a leakage problem
R is a mannequin in a frock
S is a snake ssss
T is a thin man with a big flat hat
U is an unbalanced cup
V is an upside down mountain peak
W is two upside down peaks
X is 2 open mouths against another
Y is a V with a downward leakage
Z is a sleeping N

Friday, August 31, 2012

More quotes beechaze

It's not the broken dreams that break us, it's the ones we didn't dare to dream.

More necessary than the truth is the requirement of truth.

Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

To be wise, make your own mistake.

Don't let making a living prevent you from making a life.

Your failures don't define you. Your response to them does.

Time ripens all things.

What is history, but a fable agreed upon? By its very nature, history is always a one-sided account.

Judge a man's civility not by his compassion for his friends, but by his compassion for his enemies.

Never make friends with an elephant keeper if you don't have room to entertain his elephant.

It's very easy to pollute a river but not at all easy to unpollute it.

My mind is a sanctuary for my dreams.

If you believe in past lives, then it can be said that you believe that everyone who exists today in this world has had a past life. But then this means that the number of people alive today should be equal to the number of people who were alive yesterday. And that is impossible. The population is always increasing, never decreasing. So we can never say that each life has had a past life. The birth rate is much faster than the death rate globally.

You should learn to be happy if not wholly content with what you have and what you've been given in your life. You should not be so blindly in pursuit of what you don't have that you start to put in jeopardy all that you do have.

Fan Attics

I don't know why I bother writing nonsense sometimes!!!

There's nothing wrong with being a fan of something. It's normal and healthy. But what happens when a fan starts to obsess over what it is he/she is fanning? A fanatic is born! Fanatics are nothing but fans who've gone insane from being locked in an "attic" wherein they create their own vastly misconstrued versions of whatever it is they're fanning. These attics are basically fans' own worlds where because they're deprived of their object of affection they start to over think and obsess over information about the fanee that they happen to think they know because they were told it with such confidence by whatever means.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Vogegot. #115

Twiddling thumbs
Ogling at the road bumps
Dwindling seconds of the night
The space is black like outer should be
And the moon is a persevering little thing
Sure there can exist white in black
But where is there ever a place or time for black to venture into white?
Lurking forever on the outside
Borderline and so always just on the border.
But if the black borders white
Isn't the white bordering black too I wonder
Yes in the big picture
Like yin and yang
There is no such black blasphemous border
For it's all part of the endlessness of the pie that's the universe
Which is an untouched pie
Who would hope to digest one of such magnitude?
None, there is nothing that could
Besides, no one dare would


The title Vogegot is a made up word I actually dreamed about the other night. It was about some very nice guy I meet and at the end of our meeting I am given a skype id with the words Vogegot. I haven't tried looking for this username yet but my oh my will I be shocked to discover there is an eligible nice man who goes by Vogegot.

Also I don't intend this post to be racist although on a re read I can see how it can be misinterpreted.
I got nothin' on the black population. I was, proudly to say, born in a black country. :)

Friday, August 10, 2012

My Kimya Dawson Covers

I love this woman, she's given me a lot! Music and other wise :)

Chemistry
The Competition
Lullaby For The Taken
I Will Never Forget
I Like Giants
Underground
Cheers =D

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

A Forever Kind of Love With Clouds.



I wish you could see the beauty of the sky when it's flooded so wonderfully with clouds the way I see it
It's so grandly set and yet ever moving
The blueness of the sky set against the fluffiness of the soft and comfortable white clouds.

Another cynical rant about love I wrote a long time ago

The idea of being in love and staying in love for life is moronic. Who is willing to share all their important feelings and events with just one person? What purpose does it serve knowing exactly what your partner ate all day? You're not going to do a stool test and investigate if all the items are present in it's shitty form are you? Then what is the point? Why are we so bent on making our lives surround one person? Isn't our life enough? Why can't we be content with loving just ourselves and our dear ones. Why is there a need to find that one special someone. And how do you know that person is the one anyway? You don't. It just happens. When you want something bad enough you make it work, and it would work if the potential partner is even a little interested. Once the catch is fresh it can easily be fried or cooked nicely to your personal taste. I don't believe I will fall in love to such an extent that I will constantly text and talk on the phone and get restless to meet. It just doesn't fit anymore in my head. I have outgrown the prospect of love and having a boyfriend. It's not as if I don't like boys, it's just that there isn't one guy out there that seems to have a somewhat common line of thought as me. I know one day I would like to have a family. But I am not regularly striving to ensure that I do. It will happen as it will if it has to. Not that I believe in destiny. I am just not ready. I am not lonely either. I have a wonderful sister and mother and great friends and so am not lacking anything really. It's just that everywhere you look, there are couples. There is constant jabber about love and stuff.
And sometimes it just doesn't make sense.
What is the guarantee that you will stay in love when you fall in love? What if you're in too deep and can't even get out if you wanted to? It is too much drama and too much unnecessary hurt. It is just not a viable concept anymore. Shades of grey have helped me overcome the fantasy of the perfect meet-someone-out-of-nowhere-fall-in-love-and-drive-into-the-sunset. It seems wrong and fake and too material now. I will not lie and say that I don't believe in real love though. it is there because I have felt it in me, my capacity to love. It's just something too precious to lash out so easily. It will take time I know, but when I fall in love again, I am going to make it count and make sure it's really love I am in and not delusional. See, this love shit requires too much work. Not worth it, man. Just live your life and do your duty peacefully, live simply and with contentment.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Norwegian Mulberry

Whispers in the air in a language long forgotten
Whispers that would lead the world to it's true glory if one only lent one ear to listen
Not two, just the one ear will have to do
For the whispers are loud enough to be heard by one ear
And yet it's not heard at all, by any one
82 billion years have since passed
Not a soul had yet responded to his feeble call
Forgotten the dialect stays but still the Whisperer never gives up
One day, one person will hear
He's weary, so very weary of this overdue and unfinished task
So deeply entrusted by The One
He cannot give up, not now when he's waited this long
Louder he will whisper for that's all he can do
Futile it might be for the world is going to get noisier still
What chance does He hold of saving the world
Close to nothing.
So on the lone Whisperer lives
With one hope and one supreme message
Once it's delivered He'd be set free
He would cease to whisper
And so he himself will cease to be
Which is what He's wanted more than anything other
For with him being heard
The world will be saved
And He will be free to die

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Welsh Watermelons


Zack and Phil made burgs on the grill
And fell prey to sonorous laughter
'Cause shacks were few and slacks were lewd
In the beach town of Gringrosher
And there they stayed with sweet summery bouquets
Sprawling gardens rich with floppy farters
Who smelled like roses on decorative coffins 
Of long dead and forgotten corpses
There in the sand lay a pebble so grand
For it spoke and sounded sharper
Than any other pebble if there were any other
That bespoke and made one slaughter

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Another Nonsense Post

I stumbled across this too and thought hell might as well put this up too and delete from the computer:
Written in August, '10


Sometimes it's okay to cry.
sometimes it's good too.
more the tears, signify you're closer to no tears at all.
you could write someone off your conscience, your mind, your everything the more you cry about that person.
Because after a while. the tears don't come anymore.
Maybe I am getting bitter.
But every single time I cry.
It's more for you,
than it is because of you.
And honestly. I don't think the tears have helped my case much.
Even after I am done with them
I cannot erase or deny not feeling what I feel.
I feel overwhelmed.
Every time I think of you.
And as much as I say I am over you.
I am still nervous when you're around.
I am so glad you're so far away.
Is that a terrible thing to say?
It's okay to want and need and dream about reciprocation. I am not hurting anyone.
I hate her.
I hate you more. Much more.

OMG I was so miserable and pathetic! Thank heavens I am past this :)

What is Love?

I wrote this 2 years ago and thinking it was too lame to be put up I didn't. But I stumbled across it now and realized I have WAY too much nonsense up on this blog and it's not like anyone's judging/reading so might as well put this shit up too.
Here goes:
Now I'm going to start rambling about this. You've probably stumbled across this sort of post around many blogs because it's so overdone, but, i'm in a cheesy mood right now and this train of thought has entered my station of mind so i've decided to go ahead and go on with it and ramble because cheesy's all i've got, for now. So, my (loyal or forced-at-gun-point) readers, i'm going to start this cheesy ramble. Be warned.
Okay, now, every person at some point in their lives begin to question oneselves, others, just question, what is love? And I at 17 it's just been long enough for me to come to terms with this great word and start to understand and analyse it. So here comes the rambling.
Love. What i've come to learn is that love is everywhere. I mean, look around. Think about it, it's everywhere. Love is without judgement, without conditions, without any selfish motive. Love is rare and pure, because all things that are pure are rare. Love tends to be selfless and without reason and irrational and unpractical because it's so pure. Love has been in our hearts from the day we were born; it's in everybody. Nobody is incapable of giving love. We are meant to love. Love is never having the need to say you're sorry because it just goes without saying. You can never stop loving. The heart never stops giving, because the heart is stupid. Unfortunately, nowadays, the love is going, going and going and is practically gone. Love is, life. How profound right? Love is truth. It's about the only real truth. And. Love is God. Love is hard and difficult. Love cannot be given so easily. Love cannot be flaunted so easily. Love is contained in an elusive corner in your heart which you have to seek within to give.

More Quotes!


God was devised by man to escape fear.

History is just a set of lies everyone has agreed upon.

It's never dark enough for the moonlight to shine through

Sometimes the only person that can fix you is the one that broke you.

We are tomorrow's past.

Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.

God always punishes us for what we can't imagine.

Any fool with steady hands and a working set of lungs can build up a house of cards and then blow it down, but it takes a genius to make people laugh.

Delay is preferable to error.

Few women admit their age. Few men act theirs.

The only reason some people get lost in thought is because it's unfamiliar territory.

Thought is free.

Prior planning and preparation prevents poor performance.

It is far better to discharge one's prescribed duties, even though faultily, than another's duties perfectly. Destruction in the course of performing one's own duty is better than engaging in another's duties, for to follow another's path is dangerous.

It is said that the soul is invisible, inconceivable and immutable. Knowing this, you should not grieve for the body.

Lust is never satisfied.

The best way to forget all your problems is to wear tight shoes.

This Earth was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your children.

Beauty lies in flaws. The term flawless beauty is an oxymoron.

Freedom is Grossly Underrated


It was an odd day of sorts.
In the morning she woke up of her own accord without the faithful supplication of her alarm.
In the afternoon she found 2 different coloured and styled slippers, one of right and one of left each sitting right in the middle of the street, in perfect, almost comical arrangement.
And in the night she Vicks-ed her lips and Vaseline-d her nose as she sat in the dark in front of her closet.
It was tingling, her mouth felt like the aroused tips of mint leaves.
She was the queen of attention to detail, or so she believed. But today all her basic instincts were off.
It was one of those days where before you cross the road you forget to look left and right, you look only right, and cross, and yet miraculously survive.
As she lay herself down on the bed she saw a speck of silver bright light, ever so subtle and lonely, like a lost little boy, blink out of the darkness.
Tonight he's coming, she thought. She knew it deep down. It had been long since this had happened. The Corpunine was never failing and never away for so many nights altogether but off late he hadn't been around. 29 nights exactly, she'd counted. But tonight she knew was THE night.
There would be a big celebration. The little men would dance and sing and play their little drums.
The babies would all join in a sweet and devilish symphony of sound.
There would be a burst of colour and the rain would start and stop as if controlled by a tap.
It would be a fun and happy celebration. The Corpunine would be back, and tonight he would do it.
Tonight he would devour every last drop and inch of the remainder of the washed up and long dead whale while crowds of yelping and chattering Croatian hyenas gathered around. And there I will lie, beside the Corpunine and count the sheep sailing above in the grey blue sky.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Love is, indeed, real

A woman aged 17, gentle at heart and sound of mind, and pink of health, got married to a man of 27, strong of build, and equally solid of character. This story is set in Mumbai, India. Slummy Mumbai might I add. It was like most indian marriages arranged very ideally by well meaning and sensible parents.
Now let's name them since I didn't know of their names. The man seemed very Raju ish. And the woman seemed very Aradhana ish.
Okay so, Raju and Aradhana lived a nice enough life and from the love they shared soon a baby boy was conceived. Aradhana, 19 and heavily pregnant was rushed to the hospital one early February morning when her water broke. Raju was at her side, at his supportive strong best. The doctors decided after hours of deliberation that a C-section would be the best course of action to take and Raju not being able to see his wife in the pain she was going through, readily consented.
22 years later, I was at that same hospital. It was my 7th or 8th visit in the general ward and the only constant I'd observed was the presence of this one woman, frail as a stick, a bag of bones really. She wore her hair like a young boy's. Every one of my visits I noticed a man I presumed to be a ward worker by her side. The woman was mentally ill and the only time I heard her voice, meek and in bursts of playful "aah"s was when that man was around. During my last visit at the hospital, curiosity had the best of me and I found out the story of the woman who never left.
On that fateful day 22 years ago, Aradhana overdosed on anesthesia due to negligence of the doctors. It attacked her nervous system messed her up pretty bad. Irreversible bad. So the family sued the hospital and to compensate it was agreed Aradhana would stay for free, till it was her time to leave the world. That man was no ward worker, he was Raju and for 22 years, every day, twice a day, he came to see his wife, to feed her, to entertain her by playing music, mostly religious music on his phone speakers. He was always smiling, not once did I see him frown. He was there to exercise her stiff muscles, to help her sit up, talk to her, carress her, soothe her, put her to sleep. He was there to love her, nurture her. To be her only loyal support system, never failing, always strong and around. The son hadn't gone to see his mother for years. Claims it's too painful to see his mother in the state she's in. But Raju will always be there for Aradhana, I am sure of it.
This reenforced the idea that love can be a constant guide. The force of love is undeterring, determined and all powerful.

Icelandic - she said she will learn. Self teach, at that.

Stones they come and stumbling you run
You take one you lose one and still the pain's just the same
There's fear in the eyes of the onlookers
There's fear in your own eyes
The same night, the same bed, the same phone, the same feelings
Some things never change
Constantly I drift and consistently I am driven to doubt
Doubt of self
Doubt of people
Doubt of the world in general
Some people never change
This world is blue and so many other colours
But I love blue
I love the band the colour the genre the dog the bruise the sky the sea
But mostly I just love being blue.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

PUHHH-GGGGGZZZZZZ

The ideal getaway
Is someplace far away
In a sky full of misty rays
And a sea full of wondrous waves
Here joy of the heart stays ablaze
None no more can hold your gaze
The world is no longer black it's grey
Everything of awe ceases to amaze
You're Earth's daughter who daily does gaily graze
You're sure this is not just a phase
In the meadows the pugs you chase
This is not a game of charades
This is your life
The life you decorated with finest lace

Aditi's awesome reply to my poem:

Your beautiful convolutedness has left me in a daze, my vision is a blur, all haze. I can compare this song to everything but a donkey's brays. Haha nice, the look on thy face, i have but certainly taken thy case. But life is nothing but a race, all these niceties they do unfaze. But running after pugs, why that's only your craze. I suggest in the yellow afternoon sun you laze. And let your wondrous thoughts set your pen ablaze. Section 377 has liberated the gays!

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Ship Salamandar sails with sordid men, with great solidarity in the sunshine.


It's never dark enough for the moonlight to shine through
City lights are bright and cruel
The stars they lay hidden behind clouds of smoke and dust
It's not quiet, it's loud, it's uncomfortable
Lying in the bed all you hear is the road
There is no clarity in my vision
The smog blurs everything
This city is big, this city is too big for me to live in
I'm getting away soon
The stars they call to me
The soft white clouds elsewhere are so tempting
I'm going to explore the world
I'm going to seize my chances

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sunday, January 29, 2012

100th Post!!!

Orange Roses in Greenland

Prepare to die Bsalmermouth
This land is forbidden to all but I
We will not tolerate encroachments
Just as you are lactose intolerant
Inked is my heart with the bold letters of your name
Pierced is my conscience with the claws of guilt
And out oozes the filthy blood of the unpardonable
Why did the old man cry?
Why did the old woman sigh?
Of these designs, I am not acquainted with
This texture is so complex and alien to me
For what I seek is yet unfound
And what I have already is all but gone
Unsung heroes are singing still
And I am distraught and bound by my own shackles
Love was never comfortable
Never before have I surrendered like so
If God could cry a million times
Would it suffice,
Would it suffice?
And if you never looked back
You would win,
You'd be victory.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Lalaou

Trring---Trrrring-----Trrrrring. For the umpteenth time Gareth snoozed his alarm on his shiny new phone and it felt like it had been ringing a million times. He fought waking up so hard this morning because, one, he was getting to sleep for this long, after long and two, because he was having the best dream about Trisha and himself. The girl in question was someone he'd been infatuated with for two years. She worked in his office six months ago as an intern and although he had not seen her since, he had been content with stalking her Facebook page first thing in the morning and other times in the day.Gareth smiled, his cheeks reddening at the thought of her gorgeous face and never ending long legs as he jumped out of bed.

He ran a cold shower, gobbled a measly coffee and muffin-from-last-week and rushed to work in his new shiny car. He was crossing a signal and before he could turn left; which was his everyday route, he went right as he had suddenly, as if it was a dream, spotted Trisha. He felt an overwhelming surge of love sear his throat and his heart started pounding madly in his chest. She was walking her pug Demeritus and looking as gorgeous as she could ever have looked before in her simple jogging tracks and high ponytail. Gareth learnt from experience how important it was to grab opportunities when they came; that's how he was so successful financially, and so did not hesitate to ask her if she needed a lift.

Luckily, she consented and there Gareth sat driving his car with the woman he was so in love with. He wasn't familiar with this route but to seem knowledgeable, he kept going straight on that road while Trisha grooved to the music that was playing in his car. Suddenly, they reached a dead end and before Gareth realized it; he was sneaking long glances at Trisha; the car was flung midair and in an instant they were transported into a new world. The car landed with a loud thud on the lilac coloured ground. Gareth sprang into consciousness and carrying Trisha out of the car, gasped in horror at the sight before him.

Sixteen werelions lay in the vast lilac field before him. Some of these half lion, half human creatures were snoring in deep slumber and some started approaching the strange new visitors of their land in a slow menacing stride. Trisha screamed and clutched her pug Demetrius tightly around her as Gareth positioned himself in front of her looking like he'd froze. "Do not fear us, humans! For we are not going to hurt you," said one of the approaching werelions who introduced himself as Appa; all the while baring his lilac coloured teeth. Gareth touched Trisha's palm in reassurance and she looked at him; her eyes full of fear.

The vast landscape was dotted with myriad variety of flowers, all in the shades of lilac. The sky seemed to reflect the colour of the land and although there was no sun in sight, this strange land  seemed brightly lit. Appa continued, his voice deep, slow, and sonorous. "We have lived in Lalaou for centuries. We are the safe guarders and eternal watchers. All lesser beings are nurtured by us. The organisms in the soil worship us and we are fabled to have hearts of pure sapphire. This I cannot vouch for as I have not seen thus. Also, we hate DOGS!" Saying this, Appa and five of his kind leaped at the pug Demetrius, and in a blink of an eye he was swallowed whole.

Trisha wailed in pain and Gareth held her, as they entered the car and thinking that taking the car in reverse would bring them back to their own world, did just that, and it worked. And then, like all great stories end, Trisha and Gareth lived happily ever after, after Gareth consoled her enough about the tragic loss of Demetrius, the pug.