All steps have been taken by the supernatural to make life not so monotonous.
We can't look into the future. We don't know if we will wake up tomorrow but we set the alarm, we cross the road, and we are never sure if a vehicle might just appear out of nowhere and smash us to pieces. In fact we know very little.

So, who the hell are we to say if life is too long or short.
And we can't even say "Take it as it comes". Nobody wants to take being crushed under the debris after an earthquake.

Nagging unanswered question is, how do we take it?
We should not be doing anything and just let chaos reign.

I have written this post in a fit of utter laziness and boredom. I wish that all we had to do ever was wake, eat, read a book, watch a movie and sleep again. It's a fit of boredom I hope, shall pass soon.
Excuse the temporary madness.

P.S. Everybody around me seems to have at least one life changing event. I want mine!

Ponder#3

turn. look
Talk. Properly (Again)
Turn back.
Wrong talk. wrong notion.
Few days later, realization. (with abuses)
Damn!
Turn. Kneel. Yawp.

Life is an utter mess.
Changes to become only what it already is.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Yes, it changes differently each time,
But remains what it is.

Essence is always the same you see.

Image

Deep in the recesses of my heart hangs a picture of myself
God knows who painted it and when
There it remains hidden from me and my friends
but if ever I glimpse it, even by accident,
My heart shudders at the comparison with myself.

-Fahmida Riaz

He walked along with a smile on his lips. He held a rose in one hand...gently caressed it with the other and walked on. A wayward leaf of the autumn brushes past his smoothly shaven cheek and he lapses back into that beautiful memory...

Her hand brushes his cheek..caressing it before leaning up to kiss him. It's their day out. After weeks of exams and busy schedule they meet in the peaceful tranquility of the garden...lying back on the ground they gaze at the sky..thinking of the days to come, of the things to do...

The biker misses him by mere inches, hurls an abuse and he jolts back to the present. With a shocked smile he gives himself a mental shake and carries on.

Crossing the over to the other side of the road..he looks to his left and before fully turning back, he sees a boy and a girl, arguing. The girl raises her hands over her head in frustrated hopelessness. He looks at them with a smile playing on his lips nad remembers the time...

"Why can't you just stop!" she screams, "How much does it take?!" "I'm trying alright! Okay, this was my last. I wont touch a fag again. I swear." She shakes her head, picks up her bag and walks out of the park. He follows her wordlessly..head hanging in shame...

He jolts himself from that memory. Caresses his side pocket again. stops and takes out the tiny box, and opens it. The stud on the ring catches the rays of the sun and winks at him. He plays his index finger on the ring. closes the lid and puts the box back in his pocket and walks on.

He reaches the busy street where she now is. Opens the rusted gates that creak. He walks towards her, he knows she is waiting. They planned it so. He kicks a small stone on the way, smiles, taps his foot twice.

He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the box. He removes the ring, and going down on one knee, places it on the cold marble that is now her bed.

"Congratulations darling," he says. "We are engaged today. Six months from now, and we will be married."

He gets up, makes to dust his jeans, but then leaves it so. With a last look he turns to leave. At the gate, again he stops, turns and says, "Where ever you are, I will always love you. See you, until then..." He blows her a kiss...and leaves.

Just to Ponder @ 2

Sometimes I feel that the basic amenity of life is trust. Everything revolves around it, be it business, education, love, family, friendship...it all starts with the trust you place on the other person.

And ironically, its this trust that one can't place in people. No matter how much you test a person, measure them upside down, shake them up and study closely, there always remains a loophole. A need to reconfirm.

I feel I learnt it the hard way.

There are always those deep dark secrets you carry around. Actions and reactions, moments of weakness, stupidities, and thee quick recovery methods you take up, ain't there?

In the end of it all, after getting out of the state of shock and the state of depression we realize, "Holy shit. What did I do?" And then we worry about the future, about the things to come, the consequence to face.
And we realize that we are in neck deep shit.
In the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald, "Cracked like an old plate."

It's real bad you know. This feeling of loss raised to the power two. The one incurred by trying to get out of the other.
And herein comes the third mistake. We try to find solace. In the process we begin to trust people. And in the due process we find one genuine person, at least who we think is genuine, and we spill our hearts out.
And feel the relief flooding in.

And then one day, we find that very person standing across with those against you.
Here the gut wrenching loss to the power infinity, and think, "Shit man, what the hell was I thinking?!"
The worst part is you will never know whether they spilled the heart u spilled to the rest in the form of beans, but the insecurity will always eat you away.

And then you learn the hard way that its better to have things kept buried in. And not let it out. And let your insides burn up in that acidic reaction.
It's better to have that misdeed you did at first kill you rather than have it shared and joked about.

Trust my friend...well...remains an impenetrable unsolvable mystery. For all ages to come, I presume.

Just To Ponder.

Beauty. The need of it however much refuted, is always sought. The defined conceptions make some the "other". The ones accepted almost always make it a point to declare their victory.

It also happens that the colonialist conception of "White is Beautiful" has still not died out.
And one finds solace in Nadine Gordimer's description of the White skin. They are like plain white paper she says. Like an incomplete picture. Whereas we, the "colored" ones are the complete painting. Full of hues and complete.

I hate to admit but yes I suffer from the terrible complex from having the worst skin possessed by human flesh. There is nothing I have not had on my face. Well, almost. And I am trying to grow into that phase where I just won't care. Because I have so much more than your looks.

So, I'll see you when you wash my car.
*smug wink*

The Eunuch Rises.

Where the hell does it stop?!
You walk on roads, you get it there.
You wait for a bus , you get it there.
You get on the bus, you get it there too.

I can't go on writing where all you get it, because the moment you step out of your house, the male population around you seems to waiting to get a share of whatever you can offer. An "excusable slip" of the hand, a remark to testify how bloody horny they are, or they might just rape you with their eyes.

Here is a recent "event" of my life. While coming back from my college, wondering about the number of assignments to be done, and abusing a few teachers in my head, I felt a whack on my cheek. And no, it was not the almighty's command to behave myself, it was some *&^%*#@ who wanted to have his share of fun. Of course stoning is entertaining.

What I wonder about is how the hell do you vent your urges by stoning people?! Not that frisking and fondling girls in buses is going to help much, but stoning?

The worst part remains that many blame people from small towns, illiterates and the likes. But this evil cannot be blamed on any part of society as such. In the poshest areas of the city, while waiting for dad, in broad daylight, there was a guy standing next to me, on a Harley Davidson Fat Bob.
Talking on his phone in fluent English he was asking about some graduate course.
And before leaving, with a smug look on his face, he had a question for me too, "Maal degi kya?"

And you if belong to the lot who thinks clothes provoke people, I only wear kurtis.
And the argument is useless anyway. We women should be raping half the population of the city by now, with the number of them peeing on the road!

Bloody hell dammit, maybe YOU think it's a mans world.
But I choose to live here anywhich way I choose.
**** you.

How thick are you?!

We all find ways of insulting our adversaries.
One of the cheapest ways of doing it through public discussion. And because their are N number of people present, the idea of it being directed at you would seem ludicrous. It may or may not be true, but somewhere we and they know. And many more know.
And so there we have it.

A famous politician once gave an awesome example. When there's a cyclone or flood, its the upright trees that are uprooted, the grass simply bends with the flow of the strong current and remain intact.

So, this girl, lets call her pigeon, has this old enmity. And honestly has gone to great lengths to embarrass me. And I have almost always never answered back. I mean come on, I really do have better things to do. And, lets keep this between us, I have even spoken my mind about her to many. When I really could not take the double standards being played out so beautifully.

Yeah, so it happens that when I was faced with this public-speaking-but-cant't-answer-back dilemma, I at first was speechless at her hardness, consider here the fact I had apologized and put it behind. And I apologized knowing that I'm not the only one at fault.
And the second emotion I felt was that of bubbling laughter because I realized what incredible double standards, and how idiotically comfortable in her own world she was.

Umm, looking at the event briefly, it was about looking at the other side of the problem (that is hatred) and unrestrictive parents.
Well, the other side she never seeked before or after or during the "trial".
And (this is funny) parents are restricting because of your code of conduct. Please read that as our little princess has the perfect set of manners and has never messed up.

Third, was the concept of "girly". Again I quote, "Who are you to say, "Oh my god you're so girly!""
What she meant here was that nobody is to comment on what the other wears or dresses like. If you don't like it, keep it to yourself.


Well the first one is not even worth a thought. Our pigeon is the sort who would never approach or make the first move, wants her way throughout. And the worst part is use for her benefit the people she can't stand the sight of. Anything I can bear, but hypocrisy...it plays havoc on my nerves.

The second thing of restrictive parents, hers never question her. Pigeon has the liberty to come and go as she pleases. In fact, she wants some restriction on her, she asks for it! And because that's her scenario at home, all the parents who usually don't allow such freedom have kids they can't trust, since, and I quote, "Nobody can trust you like your parents do."


Well beauty, my mother has seen rape victims aged 6 months. Helped medically examine daughters raped by fathers, little girls by their brothers, wives with 90% burns and yet when it came to my job, she din't question my being out upto 1 a.m.
She wont allow me the basic night outs and other "sport" that you enjoy, and I can understand why. But still she has made sufficient room every now and again.
I have been angry for never being allowed the "fly away freedom" but there are ways I have to make adjustments for the woman whose very life revolves around me. Its not me she distrusts, its the world I step into when I step out of my house.

To the third, more than half the people I call my close friends are extremely girly. They dress well. They have an excellent judgement of color combination. They even discuss the latest trends and beauty tips with me. I admire these people and thoroughly enjoy their company and they have these aspects where I lack. I am perfectly content with my common blue jeans and a simple tee. I can't simply think beyond that, because my faculties somehow stop working when it comes to dressing. And these "girly" friends of mine are awesome.
I have called a person "girly" for a specific reason.
She knows, and din't care a damn.
You do because you simply can't mind your own business and have to butt into mine.
Get a life!

Really!

Man. I really never thought she would be so complacent. And cheap, considering the means with which she put forth her "modern views". (Modern! Kiss my ass! I can't think of a more closed mind). And now that I know, I am going to sit back and enjoy the mockery of this self proclaimed free thinking modernist.

The thought gives me immeasurable sadistic happiness.
Oh pleasure! Be mine!
;)

What You Never Knew.

It is so easy to say things and not regret them. And then regret them late.

We have often given the freedom to some, those special some people, to say what they wish or comes to their mind...but if in thoughtlessness we say things and explain later, it's never enough. 

And it so happens that in moments like these you get to know what they feel and think.

Anger makes you say things to hurt others, but it also brings out what you feel inside, the thoughts of the subconscious. 

And so these come as shocking revelations.

But true they are, its said.

And then arrives the question of, what was it all this while? A lie? A useless thing that you shared where your role was nil and useless? Was the "need" a lie too? A farce all of it? And when did it begin to be so? all the sharing, the tears, the joy, the pain, the questions, the hope, the dreams..what was all that?

And then there also is a time when you think, when I forgave all, can't I be allowed a mistake?

When I gave the chance to improvise, can't I have my turn too?

Its so easy to say how useless the other is, when in a million ways, which you would never know, they have blessed, prayed and loved you.

All those nittygritties. Small things.

I counted it all my friend. You left them far behind.

And so today, I never had any use, and probably never will then.

Peace.

Thoughts here and there.

Forgiveness seems to be a very elusive concept. One might be able to forgive. Even forget. But coming to terms with the oppressor seems to be a big time trouble.

It is not ego, or so I thought. And in the process of trying to put my finger on the this binding emotion, I realize that it is the fear of rejection. This timidity that comes from within  is in a way egoistic. I might greet the person, believe me I want to, but I don't have the guts to face the embarrassment if they ignore me.

And therefore I sit back. Enjoying my comfort zone like the coward that I am.

 And I say to myself everyday "Let's try forgiveness." A little tough. But simply worth the while.

And I will try smiling at my adversary tomorrow. Again.
:)

Yack it out.

The fine art of talking has always eluded me. It has made me land in deep shit, sound rude when all I meant was a joke, sound over indulgent, sound over friendly and has led to create a lot of misconceptions about me and of course at times made me look too available.

But the thing that I don't get is, whats wrong? And whatever is wrong, is it wrong with me or the way people think? Am I blameworthy in the statues of the world?

I sometimes blame the place I was educated in. 

Sometimes myself for being carefree.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a helpless desperate asshole of some kind.

What ever the scenario, I have just realized that my thinking capacity is not at the level where I think it should be. 

The fault actually I think lies with the trauma that I was born too lively. And the liveliness that's a part of me is giving me loads of trouble keeping off people and things. 

I just fuckin' don't seem to get how to be formal and friendly and warm at the same time not make myself look like a wannabe bitch.

I really wish time teaches me how to talk. And behave myself. And conduct myself properly, so that I dont embarrass the ones I represent in society. The beautiful people in my life I cherish should not be lost to me for this...
O God. Please.

Peace.

I know why the Caged Bird sings.

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom. 

-Maya Angelou

And Then.

I wish there was that one person in my life I could simply take for granted. I could be the unthinking bitch speaking out things in the crudest rawest terms and the person would take it all and still be there with me.

I always wish I could sell what ever I have, and go back to that day and age when one anna was a luxury.
I won't have to work and toil.
I won't be stricken by the advent of the temptations of this globalized day and age.

I wish there was an actual escape from the harsh realities in the world.
That secret haven to find solace and rest, something not as permanent as death.
The haven where I could come back from. And feel the rejuvenation.

I wish I could make you happy, be the one who completes you. Be the one you are content with. Be the one who's your haven.

I do wonder...if it's too much to be asking for. Too much to want. Too much to need.

The answer is always 'no'.
I'm just wanting a Grecian symmetry to life. A harmony, with nothing wrong.

I'm just, in my own way, seeking happiness , in the way I see happiness.

and then, it also occurs, "Perfect" is too much to ask for.

Confused Affairs.

There are many dumb ways in which people behave when confronted with the one person they want to have in their lives. They could blush furiously, become as tongue tied as the earphones that come out of your pocket, or just blabber.

But, I had the the opportunity to meet a girl, who when confronted by her Mr. Perfect, makes him feel like the biggest burden in her life, the one hurdle she wants to walk over, the one person she does not want to see, when everything she feels for him is exact opposite.

She will go to great lengths to achieve the feat. She won't talk, or even look at the guy. He, who is the cause of the biggest absent mindedness of her life would become the one guy who'd feel that he would give away anything to be anywhere else!
And it does not stop there! She would, and she will take a flight the moment she sees him approach. The most recent one being that she liked a guy, to whom she made known her feelings, with the very finality that she won't meet him again (beat that). And as fate would have it, she did see him a year later in the most unexpected circumstances. I had difficulty digesting what she did next...she took of the heels she was wearing, and ran. Right in front of his eyes!

Now the narrative is not to poke fun at anybody. But just a wondering thought, that if everything is planned in the sub-conscience, then are we actually using that part of our senses to bring misery into our lives?

Why in hell's name would one want to antagonize the person one loves?

And why the hell do we more often than not consider ourselves not worthy for the person we love?

And some questions that always haunt me are that why are we so complicated? Why can't we just tell some people that we love them and be done with it and not care what happens next? Why do we have to be such egoistic fiends and care about the outcomes and the blow to our pride it will cause?

Why can't life simply be perfect?

And then the answer that always comes to me is, predictability is so very dull. Don't you think?