been down with the flu. endless hours on my little bed, next to my little window, and waiting for her to come home reminds me of my childhood
she wanted to open a bottle of wine last night. we chose a white bcz of the pong ... but ping and pong left after a glass ... i know she "hates her" and all the reasons and justifications ... but ... cant they maintain peace for a birthday?
people are so intolerant? everyone has flaws ... glaring hideous - ugly flaws ... unbearable, revolting. still you have to love them. you have to ignore the bad and love the good. but she says Im nuts
guess its just a phase. guess I was like that then too. hard. clean. proud. unbending??? now Im softer cz Im beaten to pulp? no - I dont want her like that. she's better of like this. my little angel pong. atleast she's still clean. free from cancerous pity and fear
saw hrishikesh. who is he? tvs saregama(pa) ... dunno ... he has this innocent clean on his face. i saw him and felt scared. at the thought of him going through life ... here. now. like you'd feel scared if a happy cheerful shirping sparrow was hopping into a cobra's nest. thats the life Ive seen. thats the world Ive seen.
i lay on the terrace last night. on the railing ... at the edge. with a arm and a leg hanging on the otherside. vast stories rushing down below ... what a feeling. above ... cerullean skies, silver stars, wispy clouds and flashing lighting ... and ram da's jasmine spreading soaking sweet all around.
vertigo ... fear you will want to fall? yes - just finished "unbearable lightness ..." . back to sarte. "what is literature". read high fidelity. its re-defining. I lost my dvd though :(
Im listening to who's next, tommy and "breaks like a little girl" and ofcourse ghalib in the night. leaving for dubai today ... dreading it. empty rooms. dunno when Ill write again.
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