I dunno How it sounds,but I know How it feels

To and From the Selfish Giant
With SOMETHING called love n hate,like n dislike,milds n goldflake lights,rain n moon, cigarettes and caffeine

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I d'rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who m I to judge you
On what you say or do
I am only beginning to see the real you

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty is too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Till we both break down and die
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
I m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty is too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Till we both break down and die
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

Wishlist

So whts been happening....kickass stuff....something like I am braindead! to the core.
I feel like running to mother and hiding in her stomach
The world amuses me, maybe everything else also does....but I miss the humor, I only get a state-of-art kinda feeling these days and often oblivious to it.

I saw this lil pup the other day,in the morning all dusty and ruffled.
In the evening on my way back he was still there, in aftershower look and playing in the puddle.
But the irony is it wasnt dirtying itself to make something out of it, it was just happy playing in the mud n dirt. Why cant we have lives like that.

Currently my wish list includes -
1. Get the fuck outa hre
2. Backpack to Pondi or Northeast
3. Learn Pottery and Power Yoga
4. Sleep, and Laze
5. Watch Films
6. Write
7. Walk on the beach with Sam
8. Get pampered at Home
9. Procrastinate some life changing events
10. Start on my mixed media project
11. Have a magic wand to read a few peoples mind
12. Stop Whining and feeling the need for it
13. Fall in love with life all over again

For Basic love of Things

The year is drawing to an end and I am on a high, about the basic love of things. Originated amongst a few Delhi youngsters, this artform appeals to all four senses, they keep the taste buds out, unless one decides to give into some good addiction for the complete feel. For the experience one must go for a gig before turning to the next signal.

Calling themselves BLOT, honestly the music and the visual medium makes an impact that made me travel through time and the roller coaster ride did not need alcohol or stuff to accompany.

But Basic love of things does not begin or end there. It was all over in December. The winter shivers, the craving for a drink of warmth, the excavation of minds, the fact that letting go becomes easier each day, yet leaves a tinkle of sigh. Life cannot seem to encompass itself in a few words, the textures were varied and dear to heart. Going back to Bombay made me grow up in folds. But the raving battle with the old estranged lover seems to be never ending. So much so that everything else seems to be illusionary. Maybe they still are, maybe they will be but it’s the grey I love. It’s the forever changing colour palette that feels the orchids fresh and right on the skin, tickling old emotions, only making one realize it’s not all dead, it’s still simmering somewhere and that is hope for tomorrow.

Amongst people, its amazing to see different worlds collide and still come together over music and life. Aren’t we all trying to create masterpieces all the time? Aren’t we all striving for excellence that will make us immortal? I therefore like the madness of Henry the viii th . Sometimes respecting nothing and loving everything does hold good. It gives you a feeling a completion thats very personal, very signature.

I maybe invisible as me by the end of the year but I will be someone else. The role reversals with people you meet and get intimate with in most inane ways, over shots, over smoke, over chokerblock traffic or tears and most importantly over the promise that we will walk alone with each other . The quirky sunshine is not hiding behind the clouds. Its somewhere in the sky, as I count days for the days to end, I pin my hope to see and hide in the sunshine forever.

Lofty ambitions, hope of an impossible?
What if it crashes? Speculation has never led us anywhere. So let the Obama effect take shape, let my country wake up to reasons and determine its future and let my imagination run wilder.

Lets live for basic love of things.

I live here for Love

The worst time for my lifeline.
The black end of Global terror has finally unleashed itself full blown that lasted over 48+ hours.
It seemed that it was a film running. I had heard it,seen it but the distant experience in real life had emotions that I cannot come to describe in words.
I am amazed, speechless and cannot get to believe it still.
Imagine the depth of hatred,imagine the strenght of nerves, imagine the mental space beyond which life ceases to matter.
This time it was the masses inclusive of the classes and how bare naked and shallow stood the intellegence and basic security of the country, of the financial capital of the country, of the biggest and oldest corporate empire of India.
There was anger,grievances,disgust,outrage but it was pushed and everybody somewhere basked in the glory that Bombay will bounce back.

When the news channels showed the spaces, I felt like own skin was being scathed. It hurts but its hurts so much that its numb.
I am tired of blame games, tired of political gang wars, gimmicks,bytes,reality TV and using Pakistan always for a purpose thats convinient.
I cant even drag myself to sign petitions,send emails,join groups,write protest mails.
Thats not how much I can do for love.
The maximum city has given me maximum experiences in the last almost five years. I am supposed to do much more,more than what meets the eye.
In return I dont want to depend on systems that are dying of incurable diseases - corruption, inefficiency,non-chalance and blah blah blah.
One might think everyone doing little is a lot. But a lot is already lost.
What do I do? I wanted to change the world when I graduated in 2006. And now I want to change my eyes. I dont want to live under the shadow of An Andalusian Dog.
Its difficult to live out of ones set of beliefs.
I screamed out loud when Combating Terror was thought of as strategic programming. Sam says my space has changed and my voice has to be silent. Professional (mis)fortune. Like you cant have a mind that has thoughts beyond the normal stream. I debate over niche and crass, and I decide for those million sensibilties.
So why cant my sensibility make the choice to protest in what is apparently my space?
Anyways, thats not really the point.
The point is mis-interpretation of a community, a faith and a book which is probably much ahead of its times. Its misrepresentation of concepts that were meant to empower and engage and not dissect people furthur into deeper depression from where there seems to be no return.

The vision as of now seems unexplicable and clouded with emotions of betrayal and loss of faith and lives and humanity.
There will be light at the end of tunnel.
Its my belief and its here to stay.
I Live wherever I live, but there I lived and live for Love.

Whiney Minie Miney Moe

Ya I want to whine a while, I was wondering if I should use this space,but thanks to our lifestyles and slavery to the keyboard and my almost left blank yearly dairies finally made me get myself to whine here. And play the favourite game as a child,of choosing who shall be slaughtered...Ini,mini,minie,moe.
Enuf, I have too much been talking about the world.
Ya fine,its been threatening my basics and made me addictive to have been reeling under the spell of terrorism,communal violence and wall street crisis but I did keep the regular stuff, that I live with, off the radar.

So whats new? Saw Kidnap-long and short of it...lotz but this Khan is promising.
Did not even take a look at the pujas and seems I didn miss much,of course till my celebrity anjoli pal turned me nostalgic. A lovelorn friend was in town with whom I did revisit my state of affairs too much and still have not reached a conclusion. And then I gave into the regular stuff,and picked up this chick-book called You are here. While I was reading it I was looking into those million times gone by. I have lived them but never thought it could go down to become a book because there was nothing extraordinary about it.

But as chickbook also tells you stories that you had almost forgotten.
And on the eve of 2nd October after almost three months I heard myself engaged into genuine exchange, of ideas,experiences and was listening to people without my mind flying into forbidden areas. Am I coming in terms with my breakup finally? Maybe but the question that now is disturbingly nudging me and not anymore working as the possibility of 'things will be fine' is - have I really broken up? And as always,amongst those few good men and women I have in life,one of them told me a way out,and till that happens I will live through the interim like I have always lived life. Probably thats why cartoon films like spirited away makes one feel so special :)
And at this point, well soulmate,missed you like one of those realllly wanna speak to you times

Met these really interesting bunch of people who are in their quest of life. Happily living moments like its one of those precious times for engaging in a dialogue. And ofcourse the warm hearted prejudiced friend who was all out to work out options for freshly out of break ups. It was embarrasing till I realized its all in good faith.
While I write this however I am taken back to all the memories and I still do not know what went wrong.Why are all our lives so perplexing-ly mundanely screwed? Is it realllllyy true that all my aspirations of being able to break free of what is most obvious will really not see the light of the day? Will I get entwined in the regular whatevers.....I mean its a choice that I have to make. And I do not think it would be that difficult to hang onto the fact that I will not follow rules.

Anyways I have gotten addicted to Leonard Cohen. I cant think of a day in the last three months when I havent read or heard him and as I was hearing tonight will be fine on the comp,on television I saw sex and the city-the movie on Oprah. And that was yet another time I realized what a sucker for chick stuff have I become. Hehhehaahee. Boy it felt so good to see these girls again and of course hearing about all that. As dear Charlotte says 'twenties are the most miserable' I nodded vehemently saying...yes I still do not know what is there to me. Gone are those days when people would be all sorted by 25. Boy I am just 25 and there are 25000000000 things I have to do. How can I ever get sorted to save my life? So dear friends and fellow men,thirties are the new twenties. So much for my convenience.
And most importantly I do not see Mr.Big anywhere in the circumference,forget him in the circle. The guy who plays Mr.Big,Chris Noth is a father of a three and a half year old child. And I cannot begin to get smiling as to how adorable he looked. So in real life he did not have a cold feet . And that leads me to question the real avatar of Mr.Big. Is he all only fiction? Hope not,there must be someone as incompletely complete like him. Or maybe in real life an amalgamation of many nice-ness about men around shapes upto Mr.Big. So therefore keep floating. Dunno if that is a good feeling. Maybe not at the moment,but it excited me till this Quirky delightful disaster happened.

I need to go back to Bombay for a while and get over this bit, I dun want to give up on that special warm hearth because of alleys where I lost myself.
Gosh I can almost start a love story memory museum in sometime.
But honestly doesn't all of this almost make me feel miserable that the hopeless romance like Roman Holiday kinds does not exist anymore.
Well honestly it does.
But with a fairly good number of failed relationships I am beginning to question the concept itself. One can always choose to be a hopeless romantic at heart and not compromise. But then it is important to realize that humans are susceptible to change of kinds unheard of.
For some I am surely the crazy romantic kinds and for others I am the brutal honest demon sucking out all romance.
Ya,as I write this I also realize I know what I do not want but at the same time I dont really know the inner calling. What does it take to be the right man or be the right partner? There is no formula and thats nothing new I am telling you but what about those couples you come by and say,they are just so perfect!

I do not know how is life gonna shape up,I mean I never wanted to know,but I think the times are changing and as of today I am feeling better to be able to look up and chase my dreams again,the half written scripts,the dead dear laptop,the disengagement with the world,not paying attention to whats happening inside me, all of that needs to change.
It has to blossom to a fresh autumn morning.
Maybe I will smash myself over alcohol and stuff and have these really irritating conversations over how I found and lost the perfect man but at the same time I am looking forward to the whole exercise again.
So as this interesting explorer I came by talked about Shamanic dreams and Ayuvaska also mentioned, lemme end it on that note, ya so ....if at all there is something called love.

Hoping the weekend trip planned instinctively will get me better. Over horses and ridges, and deserts and trenches, will there be a Mr. Big waiting?
Well well, if they could be there in a class full or people...amongst hundreds in a rock show,or midst a crowded pub,one must not lose hope.
It happens afterall out of nowhere.

If I....

Would you still love me if insanity takes over me?
Would you still believe in me if I walked thru my convictions like I was a beggar?
Would you want to look into my eyes if I defied vision?
Would you recognize me if I disappeared in the mist of nothing?

If I walked through reality as if I was invisible…
If I turned neon into grey
Would you still love me if the naïve was dead and I was naked?
Would you still want to catch hold of me if I would float, and leave no trace behind?

Would you still recognize me if I am not black, white or grey?
Would you remember me if I was would never ever say
If I lost my voice, or my mind and my soul was only alive
Would you ever embrace me if my wings want to take a lusty flight?

If I spiraled through my hole into a fools paradise
If I crumbled under the red light on the high-rise
Would you still want to walk with me in the rains if the sky does not promise moonlight?
Would you still believe I can create if my negatives are bleached by the shimmer of the sky?

I am getting ready for the big funeral,
If I drill a tunnel in my heart, would you collect pieces of my mind?
Would you love me for all the incoherence and infinite pain I have caused
Would you take me to my grave if the blood freezes before time?

P.S I Love You

Ya, this post is about the film and like the way I personalized the film….

Nice film, awesome locations, and mushy, cute dialogues.
One would not know until one sees it to believe that the writer thinks like that, one definitely has to feel it to some extent to be able to produce something like this….
The story is very simple, a married young couple Holly (Hillary Swank) and Gerry (Gerard Butler) dealing with the mundane, more money, bigger apartment, children-no children kinda debate until one winter this guy in the story Gerry dies of brain tumour.
Gawd one has to be creative to plan ones funeral party like that and its happy and fun though for Holly it was not so. She was miserable, like really miserable because her lifeline was gone. Holly refused to let go of her sadness and spent her life drowned in misery because she could not come in terms with the fact that someone who knew her the best, better than herself, that person no more existed. Her depression took better of her and she decided to lock herself in the apartment where Holly imagined Gerry was around, still around in their apartment and nobody else seemed to believe that.
Holly and Gerry had some good friends and Holly’s mother who never liked Gerry. However a miracle happened on Holly’s 30th Birthday, Gerry came back :) in the most amazing way, like he never died. And another life started for Holly. Every season he would write to her and guide her through life. Until in the last letter he writes to her that inspite of their love she must move on and fall in love again.

For any sucker for mushy romantic delicacy it is a perfect delight. The chemistry between the two could however been sparked a lil more. A tear jerker was the attempt but did not go ahead all that well. The character of William who is the male interest to Holly could have been avoided. At times the film seemed to be filling up gaps till the next letter but some small details have been taken care of very subtly. The letter at Ireland and the perfect match of the location was a visual delight and then the letter, my my, cant get more touchy! For the other characters, Lisa Kudrow being herself, did a great job, a complete star with the Phoebe flavor, she did stand out. The background score of the film was also the sweet romantic kinds. At the certain point when Billy comes into the picture the scene of the intimacy seemed a little forced and so did Holly vanishing from everyone’s life for the nth time!The success of the designer shoe label was typical Hollywood masala, and its time we start believing there are these formulas for the west too.
All said and done as beautiful as the letters and as desirable a man as Gerry the end of the film didn’t see Holly in someone else’s arm and her first and last letter to Gerry did allow a feel good factor to seep in.

It wasn’t an Erin Brokovich or a Horse Whisperer kinda creation from Richard LeGravenese but a film overall would be a nice cuddly afternoon film to watch with your loved ones or maybe a solace when one is lovesick.....

March 22nd 2008; 01:12 hrs
Mumbai

WE.....

WE.....THE THINKERS, THE SEEKERS, THE REBELS


We lost ourselves the day we were born
Since then the search began
To find those of our family

We were confused
For we were given a family of birth
We had friends from our situation
In this funny place called "society"
We traveled
And felt the semblance of the primeval sensation of life
We wondered why we felt at home on the road
We were made to believe we were a little strange
For how many stay away from "home" for so long?
How many become the rebels we did?

We wandered on empty streets in the night
Feeling the wind of the sea, the river, the mountains of wherever we lived…
We had so many questions and no answers we found
We searches, always searched
We searched even for ourselves…

We delved in unfathomable depths of the being
We rowed for months in strange alien seas
We searched for friends of the soul
Somehow no friends we had, ever
Seemed like friends enough…
How could we explain what "friends" meant to us?
Friends were beings so akin to us
They could read our minds
Walk in step with us on those roads of life
Friends were those who traveled with us
Climbed mountains, forged rivers, conquered seas…
Friends were one life breath, strangely
Such few "friends" we ever found in this world

We stayed aloof…from so much
The norms, the religions, thought processes of the world
We risked our lives, our positions, our family relations for our beliefs
We did the things we believed in
Worked for none but ourselves
We were called selfish for we cared
About our own well being…

We fought, we battled,
We ran like mad from so many, so much
We hid, we absconded, we hibernated
Some of us found our soulmates
Some of us didn't
Some of us had homes, children, love
Some of us lived lonely in far away homes
Some of us were fulfilled having found the love
The understanding we seeked, the minds akin to ours

Some of us…after a long time stopped searching having understood that in some lifetimes we were meant to be alone
Our soulmates parted from us, living another life…
May be in another world, probably another time zone…
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels
We ache to get together for nowhere seems like home
We long for company of similar minds, sensibilities
We hurt, we bleed, we pain, we die…
But we live completely, every moment of our lives
Live the good and bad as same
Give all of ourselves to the world…
To nature… to art…
For there is no other way to live we know
We seek answers all the time
We question all the time

We are probably the only ones who know how deep pain carves its being into us
And how full happiness makes us feel…
We are comfortable with extremes
We are comfortable with tears, with abandonment, with aloneness…

We, the unknown ones
We, the misfits
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels…


A forward from a very dear crazy friend whose belief in random-ness: the way of life keeps the glocal (global+local) sanity intact....

The Unsung Hero

Remember from the Excerpts the g numbered story that I was to write on…My Unsung Hero….Just spoke to him and I am feeling quite numb, that’s what he was stored in my phone at one point of time in life – Comfortably Numb. It is most bright relationship that I have had, or let’s say if I had to define extremes, this one is the milestone.
The first impression was rather nonchalant, but then through others when the proximities became closer I had already stepped into a world that I did not know existed in the human form. It was like regular strong personalities one comes across and then from there move towards closer bonds, over Harry Potter or Batman films, Kebabs, funny possessed relationships or intensive discussions on issues that students worked on during their tenure in the institute. From there we moved to the slightly complex issues of ownership, that is what broke the ice between us…..the foundation was laid and I had encountered the Passionate trust that took me to venture into a wild sea of newer emotions which would give birth to newer colors everyday.
Differences of opinions is what epitomizes our relationship, all that I am not, he is and all that he is not, I am, so I keep wondering how does this work? How did we come a long way taking disasters on our strides? I do not have answers, or maybe I do not want to have.
I have spoken a hundred times about the relationship and the turmoil etc. but I have always missed an element, an element which makes him my hero somewhere (I just hope he does not read it…for this would make him bloat and he would reach the seventh heaven, as if he is not enough obsessed with himself).
From the time I have known him, he has never been confused, he does not suffer form the ailment of what do I want to do in life….like I am still exploring issues my interest really lies in, I am exploring different mediums of communication and every fortnight I think is this enough of what I am doing? Is this all that I want to do? And of course considering the fact that in the developmental sector working on developmental communications small fish like me who has been around for a year and a half or lil more do not earn money to have a lavish lifestyle, I often question that in comparison to others….this guy has been the anchor.
His passion and commitment towards his work I outstanding. Nothing really can suppress his enthusiasm for the he has a tremendous control over the area of his work.
During my work grey days he is the one who pops up as an inspiration, and every time I hear from some juniors that how highly they think of him, I smile to myself and say, that’s what he just does, like magic!
In my black episode of life that existed from July to October last year often I would hear from him, about his work and the conviction that he started with, shimmering its way up to the point of several accolades, that made me create courage within myself and allowed me to make a comeback, and even if I go away this time I know my conviction can sail me through the final lap of the race.
The guy is just 25 years old and he has made it all by himself in no time at all. He has seen the ugly side of it but has stood strong, like a rock, and often alone without a soul believing in him. I do not know how he does it, often it seems unbelievable that he does it but ya that’s the true story.
Koshish is way beyond just an effort today, its like an institution risen from its infancy to adolescence, and now its rebelling in its own ways, and interestingly for the better.
The second child took birth in December 2007 which is a giant baby called the National Alliance and this guy has been the prefect father, it was almost an unanimous decision to give the custody of the child to him, and a proud moment for me, I so regret I could not be there. Sorry Dumbhead, I missed yet another moment but I am sure you would make it up to me for better ones. Or as he says, the best is the best! And its right here but the degree of it keeps getting higher and better.
I now suddenly feel that the several emotions attached never got communicated. We end up talking about this that and the other but I have never thanked him for being the hero he has been. For being the one man army, for being the live version of Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘I am a Rock’.
So I have a biography to write and that would be quite a Steve Jobs inspirational story kind….for now I am glad My Unsung Hero is around and an inspiration to live with and then I can be happy about royalty I would get ;)

Haven’t said it in a long time – Love you and that does not say enough.

Excerpts

Theres a string of stories.....and I am happy,ofcourse on the happier side of confusion. However much he says we will have to deal with it,I know that it means a lot to have dear friends around,who recreate the blue bright colour of the sky.
Gotta remember -for stories
a-the simple potion of a hug in a lovestory
b-my lizard buddy
c-the bong hater bong and the celebrity anjoli
d-sleeping under the sky because I finally found the courage to do it
e-before sunrise,before sunset-stories can be as real and blue n me have an unique story :)
f-the bad bald man
g-my unsung hero!

yipeeeeeeeee......the color of the day is happy lilac for all the times to come,happiness..please hold on.

MICROSMS YELLING IN SILENCE

What has gone wrong is still unknown.
Being homebound all I can say is, I do not have stories anymore. I have run out of them.
I feel inspired but they do not inspire me to make the breakthrough and the series of events has helped me to reach the point that I am jinxed.
But when I am unable to sort the causal effect I am perturbed with the smoky thought that once upon a time I loved my home, no matter how difficult it was I always ended up smoking a few puffs in the canteen or down the oly stairs and life would be back to being simple.
Have I outgrown the love? Have I lost touch with reality? Or the aspirations have taken the humane being out of me?
Never did it become a shame to admit that life is mediocre, it’s a simple living, drinking moments, staring at the sky and weaving my dreams. Often when I encountered reality I faltered but I was happy with the learning it offered.
The simple pleasures of walking from school, bunking tuitions, playing pool for hours and then be penniless. All of this was adventurous. How was I perceived never made any difference. I was happy being a little off the track; often wondering how would it be if I could be a woman like the others around; and enjoying the moments when a few special people made me feel the instincts. I fell in love with history, poetry, literature and different kind of people. It never needed to be recognized. I was happy knowing that the love was an inspiration to my own self. I grew up, fell out with friends, moved to the capital but it was my love for home that I came back (not to mention that women all around also made me chicken out) and then restarted another chapter called college. The three years just zoom passed and now it seems I was dreaming with eyes wide open!

There were these bouts of running away from home, to the mountains, to the sea, but I always cherished coming back here, to my nest where I woke up with no worries. I walked to the bus-stop and took the most crowded bus because I was always late and never needed to think about the crinkled clothes. There was no fear that time was running out, I was happy knowing I had all the time on the face of earth to create the ladder that would take me to the moon. I never had to keep the reins in hand. Could get sloshed and make a fool of myself. I could say anything and not worry about repercussions, I did what I wanted, and I rebelled but never had a heavy heart. I could lie on the Presi grass and say theres a world beyond this and I will take you there, get happy with a heartfelt ‘close dance’ with friends or sleep in the green room behind Derozio coz I was stoned outa my senses. I fell in love and out of it because my heart felt so, there was no calculation or speculation. I could say I wanted space, or wanted attention and the crime comrade ego would never seep in.

But all of this seems to be having disappeared. And to the extent that I keep hunting for them and they never seem to be coming back to me.
I am a perpetual moron and nobody seems to understand that.
I have no faith in words and nobody seems to believe that.
I am grey for months and nobody seems to acknowledge that.
Every moment I am made to feel like an absolute jerk (and these days I know I am one)
I do not have the opportunity and means to run away and complications seem to be the way out of inner turmoil.
The other day I described the phenomenon as the disease I thought I would never be infected with – Attention and Occupation seeking syndrome (read acute disorder)
I do not blame the disease. For I have never been not occupied. I always had some micro clue of how life will unfold but now I seem to have lost the enthusiasm for the same.

A geographic location was never an issue. I know I can stay anywhere where there is food for thought.
My home was always inspiring. Every where I would go when I came back, the city seemed to welcome me back with all the warmth. The Howrah bridge was a sheer delight. I never complained of the busy, polluted, roads. I saw the potential of recreation in them. The potholes seem to have stories of disabled administration. Poschimbonger Rajniti (the politics of West Bengal) was something one would look forward to. From Trinamul’s Mamata Banerjee or one DYFI calling for bandhs every fortnight seemed ok. It was a free democracy and it was a form of protest. I never thought it led to a day’s loss of revenue for the government of the state always had enough to cover up. The Bangali Adda was a sheer delight and I did not complain of the hours of human power it wasted.
I loved Tantra, I loved Someplace, I loved Park Street or the delights of Rabindra Sadan or Indrapuri Studio. I loved the hustle and bustle of either Gariahat or DumDum. I loved the solitary revelations beside Outram Ghat, I spent lifetimes with people I have not forgotten in the boats. I loved the regular rockbaji that randomly turned into long drives/rides by the Kona Express highway.
Now Tantra is disgusting, Someplace has become less of a music lovers paradise and more of a hep place to be,Peter Cat never has place, Radindra Sadan is always crowded, Garihat and DumDum seems to be more of an ordeal. Outram Ghat is frequented by all and sundry, rockbaji is not expected and the people have migrated. Even Kona Express highway is polluted!
I loved the crows and the sparrows that frequented whenever it was breakfast/lunch time, as if they were part of the family. I do not appreciate that anymore. I loved walking on my own through the lanes of the good old city but now the fear of being noticed and perceived have gotten a better of me.
The sense of never having enough is always taking its toll, right from the kitchen to INOX theres seems to be nothing exciting. The world is very small and every corner I meet people whom I do not feel like talking.

I am defying the laws of nature. (And not by choice, but by compulsion)
I do not feel attracted to anyone/thing anymore.
There’s is no gravitational pull and I am too lazy to say hello to the sunshine every morning. As much as I would hate myself but an ace critiqued friend’s words come to me more often, “I am disappointed with people, I know I have a lot of expectations from them” and when they are not met, I feel futility of existence. But here the story is more dismal.
I am 24, I am unemployed and broke and suffering from small intestinal cancer that has led me to superimpose restrictions of severe forms. I am confused about love, companionship, commitment etc. and do not know yet if I should give up satisfaction for money or money for satisfaction. Not to forget that right now I do not have either.

Of late I have realized that the only true companion in life is definitely nobody but Cigarettes. It is the only thing that does not seek long term anything. The more you inhale (u can read suck) the lesser it grows. You do not have the fear like in the case of unprotected sex, no issues about condoms, contraceptives or waking up to find you got sloshed and therefore horny and ended up in bed with the most unlikely creature of the human kind or the fact that you end up feeling that you want to be with this person for the next however number of times you have sex! Both of them are not just injurious to health but to mind, body, heart and soul.
As I write this I am atleast feeling good about the fact that sex is not the driving force as of today ;)
Coming back to cigarettes, they are very human in attitude but personality wise they predefine liberation. They die hundred deaths yet remain equally desirable. (And if not anybody else I know one Dumbhead is very disappointed to know how I feel about the lifelong companion.) But that is so true. Almost ideal, it does not expect and it does not raise expectation. How I wish the component s of the same could be transformed into something real! Wishful thinking. But atleast cigarettes make me think, I mean they try and stir something that I thought was dead for a while now.

So the synopsis of the story is there is no story anymore, and if I do not discover stories ahead I am going to rust, then will be infected by fungus, then will smell awful and then will be discarded. My dreams will die an untimely death. I do not know what can I do to keep them alive. All I know is a story has to be born out of nowhere and head to the Oscars. I will be the pathfinder and the one receiving the trophy, who said imaginations need to be real? Or who knows when reality seems like imagination.
The moron still is grey and hates making exceptions for smart ones!

2nd October 2007
16.49 hrs,Kolkata.

Dear Sam

Dear Sam,

Was wondering how do I write to you, where do I begin?

The earliest memories that I have of you is one specky woman in Pyjamas n T-shirt walking about the campus. I always thought of you as one of those types who would get to the library and not share notes with classmates. The stick conversation seems funny when I look back. I mean why would I get sticks for you; but there was a tinge somewhere that you were weird ;) that I guess was it.
Finally the lovestory began, by the sunset point at Kanyakumari. The smoke, the air and of course of our eternal favourite TQ! And how in the train we were actually like estranged lovers and then onwards there was no looking back.



With you I saw through the most intense companionship with Passionate Trust. From SBI and how we stood bare infront of each other, to the best Diwali gift ever to the tears of another woman in our lives…..n the sweet-salt tears that is here to stay because it reminds me everytime of the journey we had begun in the strangest of circumstances.

Then the next calamity stuck of 26th July. From Nagraj to B the string of incidents flashes by and I can see myself smiling. Strange things happen over disasters. Each day I have spent with you have been special. I have learnt to look at life differently. I have built a control over the rebel child. From Daman to “our gang” to Jinx to the hours of spending seconds and they getting the senti-sam signature….I guess words were/are/will be never enough.
From one Festival to Fiery Red Flower and finally coaxing me to believe in love and creating Calvin in my psyche to educating me to Rumi, Manto or History, Architecture, Religion or being with me to raise the toast to my first job or being the radar of the boat when the sea is storm struck, I do not know how did I live without you all these years.

In the last two years I have travelled and captured the country with you. There was only Goa without you and you saw how badly I captured it; I would not say I did not enjoy the moments that you were not around but in each of those times I have smiled secretly thinking how special would it been with you around  and you know what sometimes I feel it is just not about physical proximity, there is so much more to it. The moon outstretching its arms over the snow clad mountains in Kashmir, the riot of colours in the sky in Kovalam beach or letting the mystic clouds play with thoughts from the hostel windows. I never thought that conversations through all five senses and believing in someone even with the sixth sense could have been possible had you not been in my life.

I also wouldn’t have known one Shazz or one Shadan and most importantly found another Ammi. She has been another dimension of a parent to me. For that matter I would not actually have also accepted the huge mass on which I eventually rode in my life with the advent of a new year. I wouldn’t have not been able to get over the nuisances of Shalimar Bagh; I would have never been able to deal with the never ending restlessness etc etc….gawd please I have not become so good. I am still trying. 
From late night Bawaara Mann to TP by bandstand; it seems spooky how we have lived people together. I can never imagine making sense of two years of TISS and life after that had you not been around.
You keep telling me how I have changed your life but lil princess it is you who has changed mine, from one rebel I have learned to take a deep breathe and appreciate life as if it has so much to offer.

It is a phase where role reversals cannot get more accurate and we both know how everything seems to be trapped how the highs and lows leave their impressions and we keep sailing in our aimless destination. The parallels seem uncanny but the comfort zone makes every hurdle look worthwhile. The perfect combination as we said “u, me n Bombay” or maybe Kashmir, Kerela, Delhi, Punjab, Rajasthan but I just hope and pray every day maybe it will someday be different continents but one Gayatri 702 or a Miami penthouse will be waiting for newer stories to unfold.
So the resultant factor is every time the comrade–in-arms are together every aspect of life seems to be easy to deal with.
Often when I had been reading about Calvin and Hobbes I realized each time I read it each time their relationship is evolved and that is precisely what has helped me over time to atleast give shape in my alter-ego about the relationship we share.

The more I try the more I see myself getting carried away in precision of moments lived/not lived together. It seems a neverending saga and I wish to keep it as a never ending saga, coz some stories must not have an ending, what s awaiting next is where the mystery lies, and then there is of course the element of never having enough, of dreams and reality and the eventful unwrapping of incidents, people, emotions, and silences.
I remember how the other day I told you how I wish I would have met you in school. Then I do not know what else would have changed but we would have created another epic!

Anyways, it is crazy, how you have been the single point of constant relevance in my life and how I sit by the window teary eyed and smiling lips only to wait for time to give me yet another set of experiences that cannot be captured in words yet creates ripples in minds of two souls whose happiness and serenity lies in each others beings!
Love you and it has been long when these two words were not enough.

9th Sept 2007

Cancer Vixen’s Life in a metro!

This piece of work is an emotional outburst inspired by Marissa (Cartoonist with New Yorker Times!) and Anurag Basu (Filmaker from Mumbai)

At least now I know that my autobiography will fetch me quite a lot of money! I am almost on the fast-track, soon to have some thing like motorcycle diaries!
There r some lumps in the intestine that are cancerous in nature.
Well my cool attitude did not work! As in Mumbaiiya I would say ‘Phaat gai hai meri’(I am screwed). The day I gotta know about this I was stoned. Different people had different reactions, n today I cannot handle people who love me go through the whole deal of anxiety. And it is first stage and curable. So why worry? On the second layer…..What are my panic points? What if a surgery, not coz of the surgery but the radiotherapy/radiation that will follow!!!! And the several anxieties, I am at the onset of a wonderful worklife, I haven’t lived with parents in a very long time, so haven’t been answerable. I have not earned enough money to have saved so when I get home I am broke! And I have been very active for the last three years, no lulls….l love drinking, smoking and red meat. And all of this is a complete NO! There is still no verdict to sex yet, but one never knows what is the next step in store! And Sash for giving me the brighter side of the story said, think about it, u would be completely detoxified and therefore glowing with inner radiance! Ya Right, even she knew what she was talking about!
So is there practically anything I need to worry about? Yessss! I will be jobless, sick, and may become ugly soon after the radio! Then what? All my x,y,z fashion statements are down the drains  Not that I am some chhammak chhallo but for the presentably cool quotient…. That’s worrisome. My newly done hair colour, my essentially interesting wardrobe… (sniff, sniff) and of course the whole worldview changing. Why was I the chosen one? Seems like I have not had enough!
Ya, I m feeling pathetic, when off late the panic attacks happen and then my mobility is gone for a toss it is bloody depressing!

Life in this city has been like a dream. I guess I will have to give it to Toxic Bachelor and the never ending discussion at a café in Kolkata that does not exist anymore, I had landed in Mumbai. Being in the city under the guidance of whizos like NRG n Mesho was a revelation! Mumbai was raindrained, under tulsi pipe lives were struggling to exist and I land up in the 24 n ½ floors in Marathon Heights n then the next one week I had lived the crème of the city and started my journey into Buddhism. The next living space was a friends place in Navy Nagar and my first brush with the lifeline of Mumbai, the local trains….wow! Even today I am amazed at the number of people who commute. And the trains have been the first traces of all kinds of lives breathing in the same nest, from corporate honchos to ‘apna gulli ka abdul bhai’ everyone travels together. Yes the stark inequality prevails through the first class and the second class. The difference in the full circle is in the second class it’s the smell of body odour, pure, unadulterated and in the first class it is the deodorants and perfumes!

Anyways from there I had started my journey to TISS. Wow the magical two years-people,places, experiences, learnings, lifeskills and transformations in me as a person. It weird how I saw changes and how I learnt there is nothing called right and nothing called wrong. However we might love black and white, greys rule! From outstanding people like Anshu or Rama or stories of Altaf Sir, sparks of Brilliance from Nagraj, Lobo or the engrossing classes of KPJ and the hottest faculty that turned out to be Sam’s bro its just been like a dream. If at one hand I knew Shiva on the other hand I also knew Bharath. Or suddenly in the land of Deonar I found cherry blossom in the drhrt Aj avtaar;If Sam spoke about Quran Sharif I would wonder the concoction of Jihad and the passion in Tarique would reason it out. Very caring seniors or supersweet Juniors, it seems there was nobody who was bad, if there was one Taranga in class there was also one Prakash, if Father Paul had his plethora of knowledge so was Gulrez’s convictions and fire within that made life in Room no XI so exciting. (Well I am so sure I never thought it was so interesting while I sat there). The TPC CSR or envisioning and trying to build up SAHER. The madness during Mumbai Floods or the historic relief work during tsunami…every experience has been for lifetime and I have never for a moment felt stagnated! And the literal travel around India from Kanyakumari to Kashmir life was a roller coaster ride-till the Cancer attacked!

The city is my dream, after TISS I got my first job in a microfinance consultancy firm, and breathed the first cheque! It was my ticket o complete freedom! It was an interesting learning and of course the emotional attachment of the first job. And people there, boy the variation is indeed stunning. The shade card would often go undefined for lack of words. But I had quit thinking it was not what I wanted to do when Point of View came my way, Bishakha is a super boss to work with. Rukmini and Pratiksha are amazing colleagues and u don’t even feel like its work, it seems fun at its best!
Right from the late night films to sitting by bandstand or Nariman Point, to Totos, 80s, Shack or Mondy’s or the amazing eateries in the city where few of them are like second home kitchen.
I cannot ever imagine the kind of friends I have met in that city. I met my soulmate in Mumbai, someone who has made me redefine life. She is just too special for me and I know I do not need words anymore for her. Dumbhead whose passion towards his goals have inspired me time and again, Fukcr whose zeal to live life midst greys is phenomenal. Munzu- the loyal communist buddy. Soulmediamate who has been my fighting spirit; And the several others who I will define in detail in my autobiography sometime! Someone like Satish who is friend with all the wise thoughts; sweetheart Ruchi and a very warm friend in Ashish (I still can’t believe what I had heard about him even before I met him, I can laugh my head off about that.) or one Rajeev who is an absolute darling! Rajesh, with whom I can speak tons of nonsense and still make sense. I met someone like Arjun Ray, who is a virtual stranger to me n yet it seems that we have been bumchums. There was Tiktiki with whom I did spend hours by sea discussing every lesser mortal’s existence. And also in tit bits of life meeting every single person has been a delight, absolute delight!

And of course I cannot ever even put in words meeting the quirk est feeling in a Mumbai pub. I mean I dunno how we walked by the Worli sea face or Bandstand or even from On the Platter to TISS when any distance seemed less for us. The Lint chocolates wrapped in the sweet nothings and travelling all the way to tell me today ‘u made me run around for good two months by acting busy’, swthrt I swear I was pretty busy;), synthetic thoughts was the sweetest revelation. It was also another revelation of an old relationship suddenly going out of the window, and I still have not figured out why my closest confidante vanished into oblivion.
Anyways, Quirk is the most wonderful thing that happened to me, it’s like taming the wild sea. With him I have learnt to enjoy silence and serenity. As individuals we are very different; he is the complacent, matured and level headed one, I have always been more spontaneous, wild, mad house. I still do not know how I got there; I do not know what attracted me to him. I do not know how on earth I gave up my treasured singleton status! Well however much I want to blame Sam n Dembla for it, its just the quirky charm that I fell for. And look at me today, I am actually committed, I am actually not into man-management anymore and most importantly I am much contended. Also life in the metro has been so memorable because of him. The whole aspect of some crisis would be dealt better because he would b around. At the same time I have completely smelt and absorbed freedom because of him. I never thought I could manage certain things n my own but I did, just because I took it on my ego trip and ha to prove it to him! On the other hand I have to be feeling really triumphant about the fact that this guy understands the need for space (I guess I was overjoyed when I understood that he understands the concept of space) and also that he is not an MCP or a patriarch. Its weird that he is probably the only man other than TB with whom the man-woman equation has not occurred! We have also seen our share of sunrise, flamingo sky and crescent moon at the same time we have also dealt with mundane realities of dal chawaal, no money at the end of the month and bills.
The concept of being together has reached a very matured level. We have our own issues, mostly because of other people’s precedence in life at different points (and often people we cannot ignore) but I do not know how having him around just takes care of everything. It is quite something as a revelation but the finer feminine sensibilities in me have been actualized probably for the first time with Quirk. Sunrise since the morning in December 2005 is especially beautiful. Or maybe its beauty awed me because I witnessed it after a long time. I crave to absorb beauty every moment -- completely soak up the aesthetic and have it pulsate through my veins, I want to wake up to the softer dawn forever and begin life in the arms of a dreamy reality called Quirk!

Ya now I know what it means again! While I was weaving such dreams and it was tuning into fine holistic embroidery the bacteria attacked.
So now after trying to fight the real estate boom, the terrible traffic, the awesome combination of Page 3 parties and Campaigns in Dharavi or finally finding the job that is 110% satisfying, I am now having to deal with movers and packers, biopsy reports, Tata Memorial Cabins and worried family and friends. In every practical sense being at Home is the obvious thing but I do not have a date to come back to Mumbai, I will not have things to do lists every Monday mornings and weekends will not be a complete delight!
Ok lets be fair, I am hoping to strike a fair deal ----.

I-the Cancer Vixen (cv)- Hey I will abide by all that’s prescribed and instructed

Cancer Bacterium (cb)- So? Your life do whatevr you want, dun worry we will not kill you

Cv – you dun understand I am gonna leave Mumbai, n life is gonna become very dull

Cb- so? You should have thot about this earlier and not invited us

Cv- grrr…. I ddn invite you guys, comeon

Cb- well babe lets jus accept it, you were plaintively irresistible for us

Cv- u dun understand…. I am losing out on a lot of stuff in life

Cb- (breaks into cocky laughter) poor you, lets see what can be done!

Cv- dun ya worry, I wouldn’t give you guys so much of a liberty and will throw you out of your habitat today!

Cb- ya babe, lets hope for the best.

And thus the cancer vixen left Mumbai and all that made life in this metro soooo vry special. Series of medication, strong medicines, and almost no good food to eat is gonna be what her life will be all about but I am hoping that she gets to come back. And as for me, Love you Mumbai and see you soon darling, keep the heart beating, the trains running and lives living, till we meet again,soon.

20th June 2007
19.45 hrs.

Marriage on the Cards

Some 38 friends, colleagues, etc are getting married this year, yup I know it’s going to be a rather eventful year. Boy, can’t get over it!
Jyotsna got married and I saw it as closely as I could.
My darling was happy and very prepared eventually for it. I loved the way she dealt with the whole zingbang and the never ending smile was a delight.
Amma and Uncle were too nice to be true and Gayu was the wonderkid!
Now what is it that took me a few steps away more from marriage? Of course the rituals were quite something and Brahminical and after the intensive argument with Madhu and Sam however I may agree for parents and other obligations we do it at several points of time we do abide by it but at what cost. Like in Tam Brahms the father of the bride washes the feet of the groom. It is because the groom was going away for Brahmacharya and he stopped him with the bait of marrying his daughter. So before the groom enters his social life again, it is with the concept of cleansing him. Logical, but why can’’t the groom do it on his own? And the bong ritual that I know of returning all that you have taken from your family by throwing puffed rice during vidaai. I mean if u really have to return it in cash n kind.
I guess I am just letting some steam out.
If I get to write on the marriage rituals that over centuries have created the trap for the woman and her side of the family one can have a paper written on it. Or maybe a thesis.
For now I hope to have a day when marriage truly symbolizes togetherness of two individuals and not the license to dominate women and imposing patriarchy or the license to have sex when it becomes socially acceptable.
As for me I still am happy considering a life of my own! Oh the potential prospect since I am already 24 and have all the so called attributes! Booohhhhh to the takers and a big middle finger to all the match makers and contenders, I am happily committed but single!

22nd May 2007
21. 37 hrs

The Tale of the matchbox

A very old friend announced her separation. The irony is she always wanted to be a homemaker, wife and mother. And she did fit the role to the T. Spoke to her only to discover she has learnt the hard way to lead a life single and rocking. I guess I will have to be upfront and say that’s the spirit of celebrating womanhood, celebrating life. I was happy with her thoughts for her future, I was happy to know she was ready to rock, to face it with all her might. You have a long way to go buddy, dun give up!

Another old relationship is in town, I guess we were friends too! This dude is set to start a new chapter of his life Post the fame of Fame-X. Meeting him was fun, the old memories of living in oblivion and never understanding the complex aspects of mundane-ity. I guess we were too occupied with each other then to lend anything else an ear. But there was a sudden discomfort in him that’s troubling me….maybe too old to be forgotten, too new to explain. In the process when I realized I was basking in the glory of my today, he seemed all the more surprised. Well often quirky things tame the wild west wind.

Mumbai is the place to be! But exactly living without a home is a funny thing! It makes you feel vulnerable though shrouds the insecurities of being homeless, these days I come back to a space that is perhaps the most comforting zone but the sense of ownership is zero. It hurts the superego but compulsion is the mother of tolerance and I guess that’s the why for the other person lending the shoulder seems ok midst the clouds of ego. The good part about it ofcourse is understanding ways of life and operations, for future reference, just in case. But patience has never been good friends with me, so I really do not know till when can I hang in there, maybe till eternity….. Lost the thought, seems very complicated!

Met two well established independent women today, meeting over wine seems to be the way of life!
One lives in with her partner for the last 12 yrs and another one is too stylish to be 40 and gives all credit to being single. They seem to be very happy about life, about their freedom. I am allured again, not that I need to decide tomorrow but ya being freeeeeee has its temptations. When 31 friends are getting married this year, the good thing seems the double income that makes life so easy in a space called Mumbai, or maybe the security of being married but trust me….being legally single is just about perfect! The physical drive is not the reason to be married for sure, long live the flings I have lived when I was wild (ok dun read it wrong, I dnt miss it, or lets just say the one man has a plethora of temptations to offer;) ) How I wish I can still pass my life as perfect as my dream, when after a pack up I am swept off my feet into a Merc and I land up in a glass house on the mountain top overriding the sea and have a cosy evening with the someone I love living with followed by barbeque, some whisky and wine and friends making merry all this while.
Crossroads…yet again. How I wish the rhetorical question of what next had an answer and the matchboxes would not die young because it ran out of match sticks.

19th February 2007
21:33 hrs.

Holiday

The long awaited Alumni meet got over, and it was quite a funny ending I must say…..How the few good men and women seemed to be caught up in their web, and how I expected that if I could keep off the neverending complexities for these few moments why cannot they do it? Expectations! Never have them, never live upto them, probably that makes life simple!
I had a rather nice time with the most controversial friendship, with Dumbhead. All we did was sit beside each other all through the night and listen to other people’s words. Myself and he had never been so peacefully connected. Also was the first big hug to desire, how I wish they reach the zenith of togetherness. It will do well to people like us. On the other hand I feel disconnected with the romantic relationship I have been through, do I know the reason, I guess I do and I also know I will brush it under the carpet. That’s why it is perhaps said, so much for love! Decided yet again to find solace on celluloid and landed up with Rajeev for Holiday!
The best thing that has happened in a long time, a complete feel good film that leads you to believe in love all over again. The characters of Amanda and Irish, well to divulge further, it restores faith in love. It felt like falling in love all over again. Also how similar circumstances are, how similar feelings are, how similar life-views are, I did connect with all of it. The best thing is perhaps to outdo complications. And living up to
expectations is the easiest thing to do. Gosh, talk about being self contradictory! The perfect life is ofcourse when you smile and cry at the same breathe; its about admiring the today and aspiring for a better tomorrow. Sounds quite teeny-minny, but trust me to say it, perfection lies within us, its just about how we find it.
A holiday that I gifted myself and ofcourse Rajeev was the fellow-rider who made it better!

13th Feb 2007
01:10 hrs.

To Heaven and Back

A small phase of life has changed so much of me as a person and has given me so much training that has seeped in never to let go of it and that phase is called TISS. From water to communities every door was opened and I was received with all the warmth. And most importantly have met some wonderful people whose being there has made the otherwise tough daily living a blessing.
Fukcr was in town and so was Lil princess and Etrnl friend. The soul-media-mate and the Dumbhd were also dressed in the aura of old times!
The 36 hours were very precious. After long did I laugh at the nothings! And the laughter would not stop.
It refined and there is enough reserve to sustain till the heaven opens its door again and we live our precious sweet nothings before the crude daily life dawns!
Love you guys and thanks for being there.

18th Dec. 2006,Mumbai

a few Tears of Laughter

One Friday night that was and that will live forever and probably will never happen again. I woke up to all new me. As if the existence was manifested that metamorphosed my senses and redefined my being. I had experienced it once more but the senses were more matured and aesthetic. It lead on to believe in the story of never dying love stories.....and the bliss of sense of belonging. At one level as I celebrate the integration of souls and realism s on the other hand I am also scared to be broken.Somehow I feel liberation in shackles.....

FULL CIRCLE.....yet Again

How life takes a U-turn and u get back to where u started from, the Kolkata trip was very eventful, even before I took the flight….the scrutiny of my education, my independence and my intentions about one of my most beloved people was threatened. I don’t know how I came out but I am glad I could withstand the storm. Somewhere I agree it still has remnants but ya too little perhaps for a spirit like Life!
Going back to good old Kolkata has always been a pleasure. All said and done, the homecoming was as secure as it could get. Mom is always such a pleasure, every time the way she reignites the dampened enthusiasm and fills u with hope of confidence of a better tomorrow. Moonchai has grown up, new avenues opening up, new spirits and emotions. I figured I am very different with her. I am so protective and possessive about her that I can actually kill. It’s a different feeling and a good one too…..All I hope now is indomitable success for her!
Pujo was special, the changing priorities and friends and landscapes…..and suddenly how dear old Kolkata has become so important and a part of my existence. So much so that I made sure friends from Hyderabad also gets a lifeview of it.

Met some interesting people, The S factor in the LSE returned bohemian capitalized Socialist was rather a revelation. And also as much as discovering a lifelong friend in someone who came so close to make me open up, all thanks to Arup Bose. I am awed by his sensibilities…..and the fact that he is a man, his intricate understandings made me restore my faith even if the other two important men did let me down. I guess that is the reason that even if we lose faith life leads us to believe in all over again. Toxic Bachelor is lost in the wilderness of performing the balancing acts. But I truly pray that life never ever goes out of focus for him. Old school pals and their set of realities have also been so special, reinforced once again. I often feel guilty about Littlelight but the sad part is that he has given up on me, thanks to my fleeting existence.

Back to Mumbai was a different experience all together, change in paradigms maybe. And finally decided to give up on the buzz of business generation, was missing the edge of love, life and something that is driven with passion, thankfully things fell into place and I m on my way to build the new point of view. It was difficult, loyalties in question, hurt emotions, and all that surrounds the sentiments of the first job.
And at that juncture the lil princess tired in the highway came to good old Mumbai. A new innings for her as well, the big good old institution of marriage! Slightly insecure, about how things can change or will change with time and people. But on second thoughts how does it matter with distance for souls, they are beyond the obvious, they transcend boundaries!

There is the air of marriage all around. Really do not know How easy or Difficult is it to get there but at the same time it is a revelation, of responsibilities and being with someone through the mysteries of life….was wondering if it costs the loss of the wild, free spirit storming all over the sky….if it means my dreams of being a true bohemian will die an early death. But the best lesson and game in life is the balancing act, sometimes across mountains, sometimes in air….and to scale success it is important to climb a new peak everyday……will make sure that Life has new peaks and I climb every mountain with might.

13th October 2006,Mumbai,02:45 hrs

FaithFully Yours

Too many thoughts and I am trying hard to put them all in a sync. The Hidden pearl lost her being and she thinks it’s the end of the road for her. Faith is a very complex phenomenon, when and as I bask in the deep slumber of breaking the trust stones with her the so called judgemental, religiousity personified who otherwise never gave into the floating dreamscape of life seems to be more than real or came straight from one of characters of fairyland, who u feel secure to sleep with midst the uncertainties. The big man today seems like god(if there s someone like that). And I can’t fight for my existence infront of the larger than life entity. But it is rather human to be addicted and therefore biased and even if the lil princess kills someone,I cant stop loving her. Here I know she intended all good, it just was not the right tie and space. But life seems to be ticking because of the faith and I still have the faith in goodness of civilization.
And probably from the ills of addiction and our inane faith in life we reach certain phases where it surpasses the scarcity of basics. There was this woman sitting by the road near the Nizamabad post office in rugged clothes, the lines on her face culd count beyond her age. She was supposedly there to beg and earn her living.But lost in her world of oblivion, she was choosing from her old collection of betel leaves, cleaning them to make them retain the freshness. And finally she decided to consume one of the not so good ones. Addiction is rather strange and today I felt it also a drive to face and fight poverty and live as per the rules laid by addiction.
Could not put thoughts into sync….as usual but am wondering if love of life and faith can restore all equations, if faith in rules laid by irrational bouts can keep us prosperous all our lives. If offerings of ones self to another individual is ever possible for a rebellious thoughts; wish there was the option of UNDO in life where sex,lies and videotapes dissolved in the lightness of being.

21st Sept 2006
Nizamabad,Andhra
09.20 hrs.