Hall Of Fame

My recent favourite posts by other/my favourite bloggers:

This is a WIP. The ones that say everything will likely be expanded, except there's not much point doing that for the first four, is there!

English August


By Aimless Wanderer:


Brazen Head:
Bullet bites dust discovering Coco

Arthur Quiller Couch:

The girl on The Half Shell

Shelf Life

Cocaine Jesus
Rumour of Trees

Bert Moth
Memorandum of Naught

Green Silk

Shine On you Crazy Diamond
The Hidden Hand (and not bcz of the links!)

surrendering to merciful blues

Sanity Starved
To Dearest One


We walked

The Girl in the Hat
The Witch of Agnesi

Findng Franny

Fool On the Hill

The Pilgrim
Men are from Mars

Serendipity 2
People Collector (Had Been Meaning to do a Post on thsi topic myself for a while now)
tender Days
A character introduces the writer
Beuty In Dual Tone

Chardonnay Files:
banyan tree

Perspective, Inc:
The grander Moment

Love, Actually

beyond words and descriptions

Dream Catcher


Perhaps, everyone has a younger side. Naive, silly, wanting, selfish, taking for granted, innocent clean of pity, charity

madcap's best girl

"I feel certain that I am going mad again: I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness... I can't fight it any longer, I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work"

Her work was criticised for epitomizing the narrow world of the upper-middle class English intelligentsia, peopled with delicate, but ultimately trivial, self-centred, and overly introspective individuals. Some critics judged it to be lacking in universality and depth, without the power to communicate anything of emotional or ethical relevance to the disillusioned common reader, weary of the 1920s aesthetes who seemed to belong to an era definitely closed and buried.

River Ouse in 1941, near the village of Rodmell

the moon, and the song of the wind

isnt it silly
how many times a day
some little silly thing comes to mind
which seems so important to share with someone
right then and there ...

yes its funny
guess it will take some time

but there are so many people to talk to
friends, are a dime a dozen
atleast that much i have learnt

its just a 7 letter word
like dragons, and faeries and love
a silly idea for sill credulous fools
atleast that much i have learnt

you should'nt take life so seriously ...
nor people
and most of all, not friends ...
take lite ;)

i'll get by
i'm doing good
i'm glad
maybe even i can cultivate some pride ;)
who would have thought?

isnt it funny how different we are with different people?
why are we like that?
so hard to understand?
so uncontrolled ...

now you ...
ur easy.

yeah, right!
you're easy to understand
as long as i keep in mind
that there isnt anything to understand

but ...

anyway, things cant become important without my permission
enough now. its time.

the bird is singing in the tree.
the leaves rustle secretly.
the moon is blue and silver
far away, it tumbles through
the black lace branches on a tree
down on empty tracts of land
somewhere, water makes little noises
and when the wind sings
it makes a mock sad sound
only ends up sounding funny
and the moon bends down
and they laugh at it together
the trees wave
and watch on

their endless silent games
of war and love
mock seriously
they pretend, so hard
so seriously. till the instant
when their high in the sky
for an instant
their eyes meet
everything explodes
the sky, the stars, the wind and the moon
trumpets, cymbals, bells ring
sparks, fires and lights glow
walls and curtains and defences
and their silly little games
everything is blown away
but only for an instant
and silently
high in the skies,
where noone can see
in that instant
they are alone,
hidden, even for themselves
i never lived an instant like that
ever before

for that, take eternity

somewhere far away
there is another me and another you
somewhere, far away
its free

there's a kind of peace in solitude
somethings hurt
and they are hard
but still its got to be done

i'd have never thought of the hot water
these little details make all the difference
not that it did
but still
you live
you learn
little pearls to be saved
for the last straw of boredom
why do i feel like its not far away
yes, its almost time now

funny, she reminds me of you
maybe because she is so pretty?
or maybe because of the way she cried
funny how the girl just made it so clear
which side she was on
clever girl
you cant sit on the fence
thirty years is a long time
thats how you share the names she bought
it would be easier if you had a moral code
to judge with, to call names with. to hand out little envelopes of scorn with.
i couldnt. its ok. i dont mind.
they're just little names.
soon, they dont even mean much.
funny. he would have never said i'll do their homework ...
thank god for that ;)
i will be allright, if i only dont think
i will be allright, if i only dont run into no one

just for a second now, till i regain the rock
this is the last thorn to pull out, hold your breath

i still havent found, the mustard to bargain with
nor anything else to replace it with

damn! why does withdrawal make you hyper sensitive
i must trash that poster on the wall

if i say i'm sorry, if i say i miss you, much
would you come back? but i wont. so there. if u'd known,

u wouldnt have gone. if you went
you might as well stay gone

and see if i care.
i'll make do with what i have.

but i do ...
and i am ...

i'm sorry i forgot everything u learnt me
i'm sorry i ran away for the red shoes

i'm hungry. and i'm tired and it's cold out on the stones
and the monsters in your stories stayed behind ...

just in case, you wanted to come back,
i just hope we dont miss eachother on the road

so, finally after all that drama i let you go
and you'll never know, how close you came, to i know not what

its been ages since it rained like that
i had longed to hear the sound of the rain

and when the sun came out again, it was a melting flourescent
and jonathan and fletcher, came to say hello and remind me ...

everything is gonna be allright
just hold on and let go, when the time is right

thanks for reminding me, can always go home
thanks for reminding me, there's always a place to go

so if your looking for a place to stop now walker,
dont come knocking at my door

nothing like music to drown your thoughts

music: dekho manasi

Hosted by eSnips

By fossils - one of my favourite songs from one of my favourite bands ... and while looking for it I found another song by them that i'd never heard before ...


the trees in the park are blushing
the grounds are swept with petals of snow

a long winter is passing by
with a whisper of cracking ice

the river, at first shy
bereft of the burden it had half grown used to,
stripped naked, skin returned,
hesitates for a minute, then softly hums

in the fields, in purple and yellow
little flowers laze and soak the sun

a long winter is passing
a new day is coming

i changed my mind
excuse my temporary loss of reason

i am still the same
and still want full loaves

and voluntary contributions, at that
else i still know how to leave it

yes, that's probably all i can do well
though recently the treads on my trainers are wearing thin

even the one, can be forgotten
there are so many other places in the world

though, i'd always miss your special grey streets
and the burst of laughter unexpectedly

your contrasts. your contradictions. your madness
that reminded me of me ...

but walking your lanes, i realise
i dont need mirrors. i still have me.

thank you, spring. for the melting
i am so glad to be rediscovering ...

i dont need another best friend
at the end of the day, i have me.

Something ...

someone posted reminded me of this (old started and abandoned and made into random post) story ... here. And looking for it I found this that I had also loved so much. Two of my favourite children. lol. But then I love them all to distraction. Quite literall in this case ;0)

2 days to exams. The countdown begins. I have discovered, its still as hard as ever for me. And this reminds me of the last time ever I wrote college exams. Salty omlettes and 'fruit and nut's ... and now I am there again, in more ways than one. I never ever ever thought this was possible. This in itself is a huge stroke of luck, or a blessing, for the un-cynical. Enough. Anything more would be a bonus. A welcome bonus, but not something to be cried after. And after all, I had long promised you I wont do that. Anyway, so its not so bad. Everything is like a habit. Habits are formed because of the highs they bring. Before them something else got you the high. All you need is to rediscover that.

madcap, the games you play

Missing someone hits me in sharp stabs: like a kick in the stomach; and I dont even know who or what it really is! Maybe it hits hardest when I am tiredest. Been in the lab since 6 in the morning, and its going on 2 the next morning.

I wish I had some sort of self control. I stave it off for a while, but the minute I am done with work, the thoughts come rushing in, right back in.

When so many fine things are laid, if it not more, upon my table, why indeed do I only want the things that I cant have? and why indeed can i not have them? damn. I want what I want and I want it now!

Sometimes I feel mad because I just cant understand whats going on. Sometimes life seems to tease. It gets just so close and stops. Sometimes it feels like life is trying to tell me something. Sometimes life seems to like me, sometimes maybe I just over-read the signs ...

And does it matter either way? If life didnt, if life was fuck-all-crap, would I not want it? I dunno. So far even in my moments of deepest horrible-ness, I have still wanted life passionately. Till now. Even now I do. I just wish I didnt. Wish I didnt want it So Damn Much.

Now everything is changing. Suddenly, everything is changing. The fabric of everything I was is slipping out of my hands. Or maybe everything I was trying to be, or wanted to. Like sheets being drawn off stone, and I stand here exposed, closer to being me than ever before ... raw, live, unedited: foolish, childish, selfish, friendly, shy, hesitant, alive, dead, excited, jaded, tired ... tired, more than anything else.

Can one little 'thing' change so much for me? I feel like my life, my goals, my meanings, my values, everything has been turned over. And its only then that you notice that thats the one little 'thing' thats not for the having. Damn thing. Damn life. Damn me.

Can one little 'thing' change so much? And something that I never even really had? Only in my dreams. And what technicolour dreams. ('Thing' would, ofcourse, at this point say, "did you know dreams arent really in colour at all". Yes. I did. I'm not that dumb.)

It wasnt for the having at all. What a waste. What a lovely beautiful waste. It could have been so perfect.

Someone had once said to me, 'from you I learned about universal and unconditional love'. Thats not true. So often my love is tainted. Dirty with wanting. If I only loved, I would be happy, but I want. I dont know what i want, but I want ...

Its not fair. Life walks to you and says you can have everything, and just when you atlast find something you could have wanted, before you even have a chance to know if you really do, life says '... except for that ...'

I'm tired of being 3rd best. I'm tired of coming in the runners up. I'm tired of missing by just this much. I'm tired of always counting the money, the hours, the smiles, the amount I was friendly and hope it wasnt too b much to piss someone off.

I want to sit under the stars and eat sandwiches, I want to lie on the grass in the sun, I want to run and laugh and play, and I want to find out if you tickle. I want to know your deepest fears, I want to tell you mine, and I want you to want to know. I want to pull ur leg about stupid things, I want to flirt and joke and mock fight, I want to patch up. I want to hear your voice, whenever I want to hear your voie. I want to be able to see your face, reach out and touch, see your eyes shine, find out how it would feel to hold your hand. I want to hear you snoring again, I want to go to sleep again, knowing you are nearby, but nearer still. I want to wake up with you again, spend long lazy sundays, doing our own lazy things, all those silly stupid dreams, I had ever dreamed, I want them all to come true. I want to run, I want to fly, I want to run away from wanting so much ...

And just when I think I am done; just when I think I am over it all; you smile that way again. Just when I think I am done with you, your voice rings out again. Damn life! Life teases everyday. Just when I think I am ready to pack up, it gets me right in again.

But I guess by and by it will get better. Its only just a little something. By and by. give it time. it will pass. Its only just a little nothing.

And then there are times when I think I should just say it. Whats the worst that could happen. lol. Quite a lot. For the first time in my life, I think half a loaf is better than none. and I guess, if I give it time, it will pass ...

Its just that, there's that little something in my head, which keeps wondering, what if. I'm tired of pretending. Guessing. Playing games. I wonder what if ...
guess we'll never know.

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the scardest of them all? and i guess we'll never know, who's the scarder of us two ...

I dont know what I want anymore. I just want to go to sleep. I always got defensively angry when people said 'ur confused'. But now I know I am. So sue me. I'm f tired and confused and sick and bored of being 'good' and 'pc' and walking on eggshells all the f time. And trying not to hurt noone. And I'm tired of trying not to say f. I'm tired of being miss goody two shoes. And I'm tired of being miss contrary.

Guess I'm tired of being me ...

Incidentally, newly-proudly-philistine me is reading a work of fiction again. Been so long ... a room with a view. Damn. I thought I kicked that one. One by one I pick up flaws like typos from a wanna be perfect endless work in progress, and work them out. Soon, I wont know myself. I already dont know myself. I feel like I have come so far from who I was. I miss myself again. I wanna be me again.

Top 5 Beatles Songs

Okay, everyone who was making a noise about beatles songs ... I know I promised this one coming up, but CJ was right ... its near f impossible!

Definitely Jealous Guy is one of my favourites, but does it count as a beatles song? I dunno enough about the Beatles to know! And the same for Vanilla Sky and The Ballad of John and Yoko???

, vanilla sky on youtube and

What beatles originally meant to me was stuff like 'close your eyes', 'love love me do', 'she loves you', 'should've have known' and 'i wanna hold your hand'. Those were the songs of the phase of the beatles I grew up listening to people listening to. Those were the songs I knew (know?) by heart, with every tiny sound, in the order they were on the records ... even with the scratchings on the record :)

But now after all these years, if I had to come with a list of my top 5 favourites beatles songs, it would be, I guess:

1. Something

2. Here comes the sun

3. Because

4. When i'm 64

5. In my life

Runners Ups :)

1. I'm a believer
Couldnt find this anywhere! Maybe the Monkeys ...
So i'll give you another ... ;)

2. Nothings gonna change my world

3. If i fell in love with you

4. Hey Jude

5. Eleanor Rigby

Join in and Leave your Top 5 Beatles list in the comments ... :)

little help from my friends ...

I am looking for information on this course: SMFA Boston - Post-Baccalaureate Certificate Program (for Drawing and Painting - or whatever they call it - making pictures, i guess)

Like how good or bad it is, How its different from an Master of Fine Arts, How good the college is, etc?

If anyone who reads this knows about (or knows anyone who knows about) this course, or fine arts courses in general, or SMFA Boston - Post-Baccalaureate programs in the USA ... I would really appreciate it if you got in touch ... :)

And help me understand?

on days like this, thoughts whizz through your head like flies on a caracass. how appropriate. there's so much to say, but how would you say it. so times like these are ghalib times ... rahi na taquat e guftaar, aur agar ho bhi ...

i dont know why my heart still breaks when i think of these kids. very early they learn to keep a safe distance from 'them'. its always 'us' and 'them'. nice normal healthy innocent kids. with sweet memories of childhood. good food, good advice, nice names, birth certificates. how long does it take to get over your childhood? it takes some of these kids forever and a day.

just today someone asked me something that set me trying to pinpoint why and when exactly i miss you most. i used to think its in times like these. who else would know enough, who else would understand. but when i am faced with those kids and their little aching hearts, their stunted bonsai brains, their hopelessly hopeless confusion. (always confusion - yes i think the confusion is the central theme of their bequest). and their hard earned shells. their little aquired greedy, shameless, lustful, selfish ways. their poison. their sweetness. their bitterness. chocolat amer. (i think they were what i had named that ex blog after).

they go round and round in circles. they bang their heads against the walls they are trapped in. they look for friends. tehy want all the worng friends. greedily. the ones they cant have. the ones who will never love them enough. the ones who will never love them their way. maybe you need to be seared like that. branded. marked. maimed, beautiful itricate, complicated bonsai-d, to know feeling like that.

what the f am i writing about? i really dont even know. lol. guess i am really tired and i should crash. another round coming up immediately ...

Top 5 Time Again: Top Five Songs you have ever identified with

... if you would like to play along, leave your Top 5 in the comments :)

1) I'm Easy. Keith C.
This is my favourite song (specially at the moment! :)). If you havent heard it, please do go to here and check it out) :)


2) Sometimes when we touch. Dan Hill

I fell in love with this song in school (lucknow socials - dia kaur and anjali utthup i think were singing it in lawrence hall. But I maybe wrong - it was a long time ago. Has always stayed in my head, though.



3) Knife. Rockwell
SONG: This is the Closest I could come/find to an online version!

4) Another Lonely Day. Ben Harper (or was it Hunters and Collectors?)



5) Desparado. The Eagles


Runner UpS :)

1) You and I. The Scorpions

One of my favourite - EST songs :) Corny but ...


2) Rockabye. Shawn Mullins (I think)


3) Send in The Clowns

Huge all time favourite of mine :)

4)Whats love got to do with it. Tina Turner
Old favourite from school days. It always makes me smile :)



5) For All We Know

One of those early first songs you here your parents playing grow to love too
Incidentally, 'their song' (there's a kind of hush) also is one of my favourites ...


6) The Way We WereLYRICS

And I loved the movie ...

7) Unforgiven. Metallica


8) I wanna hold your hand. The Beatles

9) Silent in the Morning. Phish

10) Be my Baby. I dont remember who it was by ... :)

Next list coming up soon: Top 5 Beatles Songs (Maybe 'Because', 'Something', 'Here comes the Sun', 'Love love me do' ... ??? Dunno, this one's even harder to pick a top 5 from :D)

word master WIP

to be completed ...

this time, its not about the words
this time the emotions
just come flood
lash at tightly shut teeth and fists and eyes
and rage and storm and whisper and tease
then give up and go away again

this time feelings are not caught, trapped, teased, taunted
and each wrenched to the very last syllable

this time, its not about the words brought
this time i am june.
and here's my dostevsky

this time ur both cruel and soft,
like him, like her. and the banker.

this time, must pass soon
its good that u leave

or this time might be strong enough
to push me past the edge where i live

heartbreak, i have dealt with
i'll know how to handle that
just go. take the confusion
the swirl of hope and despair



Priya is a 21 year old girl, in her final year of college. She from an ordinary middle class indian family. bengali. the kinds who have stray relatives here and there who are highly educated and well placed and stray ancestors who were big names, but the family itself is very ordinary. Dad is very typical - hard working humble - doesnt think too much or expect too much from life. Mom is quiet in way of someone who was very colourful and had big dreams but gave in to what life offered her and shut up about what she had wanted. Priya has a brother, Nirmal. He is younger to her and stays away from home most of the day job hunting. He is frustrated and a little bitter.

She is attractive and looks very striking now and then, but she is not really pretty or beautiful.

One day she is coming home from somewhere and a group of local boys lounging around in front of a semi-deserted park passes a comment as she walks by. She recognises one of them as Rahul, someone who she knows vaguely through their families. he is a nice boy from a decent family and she wonders what he is doing with this crowd. She hurries past and is irritated but then forgets about it. She tells her mom about it, not expecting her to repeat it to the rest of the family, but she hadnt really thought abt it one way or the other. However, the mom brings it up after dinner. The dad expresses concrns. Brother passes a sarcastic comment (implying) questioning her part in the whole incident.

Some time passes

One afternoon this same group of guys, or some of them, has had a lot to drink and are a bit out of control. One of them, Rahul, more so than the rest. They get into a mood of playful betting and as they are drunk and young and excited, high on the alchohol and on life, the stakes get higher and higher. One of them starts talking about girls and they start boasting about things they have done or would dare to do. It snowballs. Someone dares Rahul to make out with a girl. At that moment Priya passes by and they pin on her. By this time they barely know what they are doing and Rahul follows Priya till the park and rapes her there. Afterwards she faints.

When she comes to it's evening. She is initially just under shock. Somehow she drags herself home. Her mom is the first to see her and their is some drama which echo's the earlier incident, scaled up. However, her parents are completely sympathetic, but it never strikes them to go to the police about it or do anything but try to hush it up. They cant even imagine it. It doesnt even strike them.

Slowly a few people come to know. People come over and ask questions, some are plain curious, some are like her brother, some genuinely sympathetic. Priya is in shock. Numb. Part of her listens to all the conversations around her. Rest of her is blank, with occasional flashes of the incident coming back to haunt her. When these happen she just quickly shuts off all thought to survive the intensity of the pain.

One lady comes over (there is some intro to her before). She is a para-didi. Single. 35. Very well educated. People admire her achievements yet look at her kind of like she were a strange being - they cant understand the difference betw themselves and her. This lady is v kind to Priya and Priya peeps out a little from the shell of numbness she has woven around her mind. The lady asks Priya to go to the police. She stills Priya's immediate panic at the suggestion and explains how this could have happened to someone else if Priya doesnt take action. Priya is just beginning to think about it when her mom hears whats going on and comes over. Mom is shocked at the sugestion in her gentle way and says no way - explains nicely that we - our kind of family - cant afford to do that sort of thing - who will marry her - etc. Priya had been about to come out of her shell but sort of just draws back in bcz coming partway out was too much of an effort.

She just hangs around the house all day doing nothing. brother passes sarcastic comments. parents are worried and disturbed and have discussions. They encourage her to try and get back to normal life. She goes to college one day, but she feels like evryone is looking at her. Her brothers voice (and some other people who were shown when the visitors - types - categories) comes to her mind and so does flashes of the rape. She freaks and runs away.

She doesnt know where she is going but when she stops she is at the park. She sits in the same place she found herself when she woke up and cries. Rahul comes by. She runs away.

Rahul, is a 'good' boy from a 'decent' family who got carried away and made a really stupid mistake. He is torn by remorse and just cant get over it. His family knows and they are very devastated and dissapointed in him, and also worried about the legal implications. His mom at some level is just disgusted and treats him like there was some animal hidden in him all along and she mistook him as someone she could love as her own son ... as if all those years of loving him were a mistake. his dad is not talking to him but he is more angry about the practical point of view and about their social standing position. they also feel genuinely bad for the girl, but they are more overwhelmingly taken up by the whole fact that it was their son that did this. diff reactions. Mixed feelings. Rahul, however, is not angry or bothered, he hates himself - as if he did it on a high and when he woke up it was done. He just cant believe what he has done. He wants to apologise but how do you apologise for something so big? everytime he tries he loses the nerve. Instead he ends up haunting the park where it happened ... like poking a healing scab, trying to hold on to the pain in its bitter sweet stage. (he is enjoying his agony? scale? big-ness +ve or -ve of things having happened to him in life?)

Priya discovers she is pregnant. Before she can even digest the info her parents find out. All hell breaks lose. She is still half numb.

She thinks about it a lot and she realises / or feels that there is only one way out. She doesnt want an abortion bcz its her baby, however it was conceived. She wants to keep the baby. Coming from the background she does, no one will marry her with and baby and she cant have the baby and keep it on her own. She hasnt even finished college. She has to marry if she wants to keep the baby and the only who will or could be or should be made to marry her is Rahul.

Maybe at some level she senes Rahul is basically good, and is now remorseful. She realises he comes to the park often (how?) and she goes there one day to wait for him, without telling anyone at home.

As Rahul approaches the park, he see's Priya. This time he is the one who is surprised and is about to immediately turn and walk away, but she call him. He's even more surprised and he walks over to her. For a while no one says anything. Then he tries to apologise (what will he say?). Priya stops him and says she is pregnant. She doesnt want to drop the baby, she says. He doesnt know what to say. She forgives him and understands that it was a mistake on his part and he is repentant. He understands how she is feeling. They both know there's not much they can do about the past and that the grief it has already caused, created: like an entity, like the baby, will not go away, atleast not for a long time and noone other than them will really understand. They sit there quietly for a while just sharing that grief wordlessly. Then he says he will get a job and they can get married. She says something trivial / practical about marraige and the future. And it closes there

Dolly (Part 2)

This just a brain dump - for the next part of a story I have been working on for a while. Its the story of a man who's daughter dies, and he always feels like he killed her, due to circumstances. One day when I have time, I will tidy it up and join it all together :)

This is the the part I wrote earlier, which comes further down in the story:
Then End


the older i get,
with every passing day,
the more i skip back to my beginnings

there is a new determination
to be oblivious to forces from outside
stupid and pointless and dark
i want to live, more every day i progress towars the end of life
the more i recognise its inevitability
i could never do it
i love it to much
everyday, in all its madness and boredom or excitement
is dear and fun

and also, to do the things i want to
fill what remains with the best fruits of life

i like to laze on sunny afternoons
watch sun patterns on a stony ground
cloud shadows on rolling meadows
gulls with the sun on their wings
sunlight glinting on the water

i dont know or know that i belive in love
but there is this strange sense of wholeness
and peace, on everyday in the sun
like life has just begun

this too will pass
and soon
but i will not think about it today
tomorrow is another day


and part of me looks over my shoulder
the road, thank god, almost untouched
lonely, rocky, full of falls, and hard
and the beginning ...

clean, untouched, fearless
only full of questions
and chatter and words and laughter
and sunshine
eternal sunshine ...
short lived
but safe

then the fall of the mighty empire
and the people of the refuge, shipped back to their origins
exciting, beuatiful, tropical, cruel, harsh
self absorbed
or so it then seemed

whispered, half guilty confidences
about the ways of the world
and secret indiscretions
analytical comparisms
and first hand demos
a whole new world of pagan excess
every kind and direction explored
in the first decade or two of life,
i still found them amazing and perplexing ...
so new, so different
a whole new world
and then there are so many dimensions to the latch key world ...

yet, in a way, we grew in the same garden
our first impressions and lessons, came from the same school
quaint, adventurous, 'different', but clean, wholesome, loving
then how did we turn out so different?
is it the seeds that matter? hers first hand, mine second ...

in the twisted of my lot
first came the artificial
then the real
first true and logical, then crazy and unpredictable
first kind, then harsh

unlike my role model, the little princess
i floundered for so long ...

so in my turn i tried to save the next edition
pack, isolate, separate
but its hard
the wild and the dark world has a beautiful face
and a fatal attraction
or maybe the dark stranger was right
the fatal flaw is in encoded in the seed

now we must decide ...
is it vital or fatal, to pass the baton on
is the madness in the hands of the he who last carries it,
in which case, we could work to wipe it clean,
or is it in the burning torch
which then, must be safely extinguished, destroyed, and the world made a better place
"Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared

with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it

is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.

Funny what sticks and stays in your head
Sometimes when I close my eyes I can relive all those moments ...
The sounds, the smells, the taste in my mouth, the feel of the ground under my feet
And her voice like thunder: are you ashamed of yourself

most of the times, i am :)

when it comes to screwing up - nobody does it better. i always thought that like one of those neo-arty movies, life will make sense in the end, when the pieces all fit together with a bang. and it does. it was never ur fault. or anybody elses. sometimes life is just a patchwork of different prototypes, different fairy tales. i had the ending wrong. there is no swan-turning. she was right - some people are just as dumb as they are ugly (funny how even when she said 'you are so nice' she made you feel like she was saying 'ur so dumb'). and ofcourse u dont forget even in 20 odd years hearing how stupid you are and how you would fall for any story. specially when you know its true. bah. it's bollocks. maybe everything that happens happens for a reason. trying random combinations, you will come up with a few bad designs. you should shelve them seperately and not put them in the stack for propogation. its for the best.

poor thorns. poor ducklings. poor stupid people.


missing steppenwolf (for mad men only) and aurangzeb at his father's bier (murdered voices beckon me?). and one scene from 4 weddings. After all these years, it still feels strange to be away from home just for this
not to be able to look up my books and movies when the itch strikes ;)
so maybe, this is what i miss ...

only madcap could help now
only madcap could do anything

make the air all around misty and dim
to let me see you once again

ofcourse, in the morning i myself would say
there are models of how it could happen this way

but in the moonlight, the moon you loved
i can close my eyes and dream of you again

madcap could help, madcap could help
madcap could make my dead walk again

somewhere inside pandora's box
your face, your voice, your touch your love

lost in a attic full of dust
madcap could bring you out again

and you were so beautiful
you skin albaster and pink, your eyes brown and grey

your eyes that loved so sincerely
that wed the eyes in the photograph that i burnt

you said they were heartbreakingly innocent
crumbling deceptive innocence that atlast fell that day

your ankles were so thing and delicate
speckled brown, turn charcoal grey

first thing i saw when i moved the red curtain
and took you out of the pot

i crushed you in my hands, once again
and shattered and scattered you away

to the bed of your gods,
to travel like you loved

maybe if i had sold them some more of soul
maybe prawns, maybe a road, maybe cities ...

maybe if i had negotiated better
we would still be together

but the bridge between us was so long and frail
roots to branches to leaves

now fall comes and leaves die dry drift away
only branches sway, over dead roots, giving away

i have made a treaty with the winds ...
they'll count my cost, but take the flower away

they'll count our costs,
the flower safe

you never saw how pretty it was
maybe it was too far away

so now they say its the only way
there's no tomorrow after today

but madcap doesnt come when called
you stand there calling, waiting till dawn

bereft, tear-dry, maddeningly sane
if at all, this be sane!