funny! since monday i've been looking for "the post i wrote after watching frieda" ... found this and also, this, but neither said what i was looking for. Theres a weird thing that either happens to me or i imagine happening to me, often-times. I'm not sure how to describe it but its something like at times after I've been thinking about something, quite a while, i 'bump into' a movie, or a book or even a song or person, which seems to suggest an answer, an insight, or is just like meeting someone else who was wondering too. bah! cant explain. but felt like that this weekend watching Salvatore Cascio in Cinema Paradiso. at work, a pat on the back! however tiny ... been a long time & feels so good. the heads races season and our club has a race planned! Classes start again next week. Atlast, the month has ended and I can eat again - days of broke-dom ... bye bye! Mum AND Dad due to visit this month! Have a feeling it wont work out! Its a family tradition ... pre-planned trips somehow never work out. I remember this trip to Puri once where the junta (parents' friends) had come over for a general friday night meal and suddenly they decided to go to Puri and and were off before we (the kids) even figured out what was happening. Is it nice when ur being sweetly sarci and people dont even get it? They yell murder when ur not being sarci/cold/aloof but when u r they dont even get it ... thank god! Though I hate it when I've been sarci, leaves a bad taste. As does losing it and letting the all out. Then what to do? Must we always sweep every feeling under the carpet? I dunno; but its pretty pointless if you cant 'explain' it, at the end of the day; by explain, i guess, i mean succesfully getting the point (and the point behind the point); but perhaps, you dont have to explain everything to everyone, or even, anything to anyone; as long as u understand. Updated my wishlist ... not that I'll have money to buy anything for a while, but whats the harm in wishing ... Have just flipped over the all new 'skillport' ... there's consolations for being in the top 10 by 10 lane - it has the complete complete reference (Schildt) online ... Im happy :)
Originally posted @
http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/just-then-phone-rang-didnt-have-nerve.html
Akela
na shikwa hai
na gila hain
na aur kuchh kehna hain
na aur kuchh sunna hain
andheri raat mein gunjti huyi
bas ek akeli siski hain
na zarurat hain
na tamanna hain
na koi yahaan dost hain
na koi kahin apna hain
dil aaj bas ek khaali makaan ka
toota hua saaya hai
peechhe koi saaya
na waqt ki koi parchhayi hai
na aage koi raah
ya dur koi manzil hai
bas ek pal hai
bas usmein rakha ek kadam hai
na koi aur sapna hai
na koi aur chahat hai
jo jeena tha kal jee liya
bas rukna baaki hai
saanjh tak ruk na hai
raat se milna hain
na gila hain
na aur kuchh kehna hain
na aur kuchh sunna hain
andheri raat mein gunjti huyi
bas ek akeli siski hain
na zarurat hain
na tamanna hain
na koi yahaan dost hain
na koi kahin apna hain
dil aaj bas ek khaali makaan ka
toota hua saaya hai
peechhe koi saaya
na waqt ki koi parchhayi hai
na aage koi raah
ya dur koi manzil hai
bas ek pal hai
bas usmein rakha ek kadam hai
na koi aur sapna hai
na koi aur chahat hai
jo jeena tha kal jee liya
bas rukna baaki hai
saanjh tak ruk na hai
raat se milna hain
i wonder if they know ...
song of the day: knife. the old one. yeah - blast from the past.
very lazy weekend. the most vigorous exercise i got was from the bed to the sofa. well, almost! did go for a walk sometime late on saturday night. the stars hung low. the water gurgled after the rains. the roads were slick black stone.
ate some store bought curry on saturday night (lamb madras)
they called it hot.
listen to fireworks, at the festival. lying in bed, in dark room, if you close ur eyes and imagine with all ur might, u can remember calcutta thundering.
read last night eats, shoots and leaves and Carlyle's House the day before.
Originally posted @ http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-wonder-if-they-know.html
very lazy weekend. the most vigorous exercise i got was from the bed to the sofa. well, almost! did go for a walk sometime late on saturday night. the stars hung low. the water gurgled after the rains. the roads were slick black stone.
ate some store bought curry on saturday night (lamb madras)
they called it hot.
listen to fireworks, at the festival. lying in bed, in dark room, if you close ur eyes and imagine with all ur might, u can remember calcutta thundering.
read last night eats, shoots and leaves and Carlyle's House the day before.
Originally posted @ http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-wonder-if-they-know.html
Losing
at times it builds up gradually
starting with a slow spreading helplessness
then catching to fast spreading burning rage
you are trying very hard to ignore it,
but its like a snarling dog,
that you have dragged away with
a heavy iron chain round the neck
to the bedroom, at the back of the house.
you have locked him in, for now.
but slowly his barking, his demonic teeth gnashing,
his horrible cursing howls,
seep out through the crack under the door
and attack your ears, grate ur nerves,
threaten ur sanity, ur life, ur whole being,
and worst of all, ur focus on this moment, on behaving,
like nothing is happening.
sometimes it comes like a kick in the gut
in the centre of your stomach
where your its softest,
and gentlest.
sudden. sharp. hard.
so that someone seeing you from the outside
doesnt see any blood at all.
sudenly you just double up,
while they watch in innocent awe.
ur breath just goes
ur senses go
for a moment its like u were ducked under water
then it passes.
u hold still a while,
then go on again eyes still a little wet
but controlled, for all appearences
sometimes it comes,
like the fog comes down on sea salt,
and leaves you in a puddle, on the floor,
yeah - like in the james bond song.
its such a far away land
where people go to when they leave you
you want to run after them but the head start is too big
too clow to react, as usual
before i knew what was happening,
u were gone ...
the little lame boy
is left crying in the street
spoilt now, for town
for life, and for him
at other times theres no pain
just a emptyness
that i hope wont fade
i hold on
to every tear
desperately
the last traces of you
in my life
u dont love me anymore?
so they say ...
how do i belive you
how do i go on?
everything, poor substitute
like you'had once said
how do i ...
slate my hunger
with plain still water
what am i writing about?
how do i learn,
to live without you
where do i find
meaning in anything i do
or dont
when it was all for you
theres nothing left
that matters
everything the hold up
as sorry excuses, substitutes
so sorry
want to fling them to the floor
how dare someone hold themselves in ur place
and say live for me?
dont want to live for anyone
dont want to go on anymore
dont want to get past this blow
of losing you again
dont want to lose my grip
on the cutting sense of guilt
its the last trace of you i have
left now in my world
dont take the pain away
dont take the rage away
starting with a slow spreading helplessness
then catching to fast spreading burning rage
you are trying very hard to ignore it,
but its like a snarling dog,
that you have dragged away with
a heavy iron chain round the neck
to the bedroom, at the back of the house.
you have locked him in, for now.
but slowly his barking, his demonic teeth gnashing,
his horrible cursing howls,
seep out through the crack under the door
and attack your ears, grate ur nerves,
threaten ur sanity, ur life, ur whole being,
and worst of all, ur focus on this moment, on behaving,
like nothing is happening.
sometimes it comes like a kick in the gut
in the centre of your stomach
where your its softest,
and gentlest.
sudden. sharp. hard.
so that someone seeing you from the outside
doesnt see any blood at all.
sudenly you just double up,
while they watch in innocent awe.
ur breath just goes
ur senses go
for a moment its like u were ducked under water
then it passes.
u hold still a while,
then go on again eyes still a little wet
but controlled, for all appearences
sometimes it comes,
like the fog comes down on sea salt,
and leaves you in a puddle, on the floor,
yeah - like in the james bond song.
its such a far away land
where people go to when they leave you
you want to run after them but the head start is too big
too clow to react, as usual
before i knew what was happening,
u were gone ...
the little lame boy
is left crying in the street
spoilt now, for town
for life, and for him
at other times theres no pain
just a emptyness
that i hope wont fade
i hold on
to every tear
desperately
the last traces of you
in my life
u dont love me anymore?
so they say ...
how do i belive you
how do i go on?
everything, poor substitute
like you'had once said
how do i ...
slate my hunger
with plain still water
what am i writing about?
how do i learn,
to live without you
where do i find
meaning in anything i do
or dont
when it was all for you
theres nothing left
that matters
everything the hold up
as sorry excuses, substitutes
so sorry
want to fling them to the floor
how dare someone hold themselves in ur place
and say live for me?
dont want to live for anyone
dont want to go on anymore
dont want to get past this blow
of losing you again
dont want to lose my grip
on the cutting sense of guilt
its the last trace of you i have
left now in my world
dont take the pain away
dont take the rage away
under construction
dolly_8_8_2005.txt
it was four in the morning. he stood by the water, leaning on the side of his car. the crickets were just begining to break through the silence, taking over from the daytime noises. everything else was deserted and quiet. quite nearby an industrious spider spun busily away. there were a few drops of rain stuck on the web. they glistened in the moonlight. why had he never noticed how pretty they were. he'd just been paranoid of ever getting near them. he wasnt scared of the spiders but he felt some nameless paralysis at the mere thought of walking into a barely material curtain unawares and feeling it rest slowly on his face. dolly had always pulled his leg about it. daddy is scared of spiders. daddy's a scaredy paredey poo. the stupid silly things she used to say. all at once his mind froze on that thought and came to a halt. its strange how one part of ur brain starts a thought and suddenly, in a delayed response the rest of ur brain latches on. in that strange way, the whole of his mind registered that a part of his mind had used the past tense for the first time. he didnt feel anything. he wasnt the feeling sort. just a kind of clenching in his stomach. like something went all tight for a second and made him hold his breath. then it passesd. it wasnt hard to deal with this. all he needed was not to close his eyes and not to think and to be left alone so that he could do these things. he didnt want to forget. he didnt want to 'heal' - whatever that meant. he didnt want to be happy. he just wanted to be left alone. for now, atleast.
was he being unreasonable? overreacting? how much reaction is okay when your only daughter dies leaving u nothing really except a numbness, a feeling that nothing mattered.
he wasnt the only one in the world who had lost a child. he wasnt even the only one in the world who had lost this child. her mother, his parents, her parents, everyone loved dolly. everyone was saddened by her loss. they were being far more rational than him, he knew that. yes, he knew that. but somehow, it felt like his case was different from all the others. he 'knew' at some level that it wasnt really so, but still, it 'felt' that way. what was the difference? did he love her, sorry - had he loved her, more than they had? not really. perhaps the difference was that he had never loved anyone else. he had not been very human to begin with. she had melted some tiny corner of his heart - just enough to make room for her little little self. now that she was gone and that room was empty, and it felt like his numb, frozen heart would cave in a fall into itself, into the empty room. she had taught him to feel things but now that she was gone, he didnt know what to feel. he was in a no mans land. neither here nor there
he spent hours by himself in her empty room.
and he felt like he had just been hung out in the cold. he couldnt go back to what he was a nd feel nothing and he didnt know waht to feel either.
she had not been his reason excuse to live, she had been but a reason why he could not die, could not want to die
he thought now, while she had lived she had always blindly adored him. whatever her daddy could do no wrong. her daddy was her biggest hero. her daddy was above all things. beyond all things. better than everything. now that she was dead would she have found out everything about hikm, all his hidden sins, transgessions, mistakes. all the times he had fallen, had not been able to help himself, had cleaned up and come home to her later. shining in his daddy armour again? would she know? would she still love him? did she hate him now?
why hadnt he come home. he had known she was ill. her wife had called the station frantically about a doxen times. dolly is burning with fever. dolly is acting strange. come home. scome home come home. but he had kept putting it off. he hadnt taken it seriously. now he couldnt bear to look at his work. couldnt bear to walk into the little office. sit at the desk.
my love wasnt enough to keep you
nor my pain enough to bring you back
and neither my guilt enough to take me with u.
all iwant is darkness
all i want is sleep
backout
oblivion
all need is lethe
i have no right to mourn u
i didnt love u
enough to hold u
i didnt car
anough to be there
i have no rights
to anything
all i want
is a final exit
actually everything was beyongd repair now. his work, his marraige. with you, he thought, i have betrayed everything. when i turned away form you, my eyes burned the world down.
he was getting better, he supposed. everyday it got a little number where there was just raw pain before at first. everyday he lasted a little longer with out closing his eyes to see hier laughing mockingly at hiom. not his baby gentle laugh. a adult, sinister, cruel laugh. that seemed to say - who's sorry now.
without suddenly out of the blue efeeling her dead weight of her tiny, limp body in his arms gain. like a dead sparrow.
it was four in the morning. he stood by the water, leaning on the side of his car. the crickets were just begining to break through the silence, taking over from the daytime noises. everything else was deserted and quiet. quite nearby an industrious spider spun busily away. there were a few drops of rain stuck on the web. they glistened in the moonlight. why had he never noticed how pretty they were. he'd just been paranoid of ever getting near them. he wasnt scared of the spiders but he felt some nameless paralysis at the mere thought of walking into a barely material curtain unawares and feeling it rest slowly on his face. dolly had always pulled his leg about it. daddy is scared of spiders. daddy's a scaredy paredey poo. the stupid silly things she used to say. all at once his mind froze on that thought and came to a halt. its strange how one part of ur brain starts a thought and suddenly, in a delayed response the rest of ur brain latches on. in that strange way, the whole of his mind registered that a part of his mind had used the past tense for the first time. he didnt feel anything. he wasnt the feeling sort. just a kind of clenching in his stomach. like something went all tight for a second and made him hold his breath. then it passesd. it wasnt hard to deal with this. all he needed was not to close his eyes and not to think and to be left alone so that he could do these things. he didnt want to forget. he didnt want to 'heal' - whatever that meant. he didnt want to be happy. he just wanted to be left alone. for now, atleast.
was he being unreasonable? overreacting? how much reaction is okay when your only daughter dies leaving u nothing really except a numbness, a feeling that nothing mattered.
he wasnt the only one in the world who had lost a child. he wasnt even the only one in the world who had lost this child. her mother, his parents, her parents, everyone loved dolly. everyone was saddened by her loss. they were being far more rational than him, he knew that. yes, he knew that. but somehow, it felt like his case was different from all the others. he 'knew' at some level that it wasnt really so, but still, it 'felt' that way. what was the difference? did he love her, sorry - had he loved her, more than they had? not really. perhaps the difference was that he had never loved anyone else. he had not been very human to begin with. she had melted some tiny corner of his heart - just enough to make room for her little little self. now that she was gone and that room was empty, and it felt like his numb, frozen heart would cave in a fall into itself, into the empty room. she had taught him to feel things but now that she was gone, he didnt know what to feel. he was in a no mans land. neither here nor there
he spent hours by himself in her empty room.
and he felt like he had just been hung out in the cold. he couldnt go back to what he was a nd feel nothing and he didnt know waht to feel either.
she had not been his reason excuse to live, she had been but a reason why he could not die, could not want to die
he thought now, while she had lived she had always blindly adored him. whatever her daddy could do no wrong. her daddy was her biggest hero. her daddy was above all things. beyond all things. better than everything. now that she was dead would she have found out everything about hikm, all his hidden sins, transgessions, mistakes. all the times he had fallen, had not been able to help himself, had cleaned up and come home to her later. shining in his daddy armour again? would she know? would she still love him? did she hate him now?
why hadnt he come home. he had known she was ill. her wife had called the station frantically about a doxen times. dolly is burning with fever. dolly is acting strange. come home. scome home come home. but he had kept putting it off. he hadnt taken it seriously. now he couldnt bear to look at his work. couldnt bear to walk into the little office. sit at the desk.
my love wasnt enough to keep you
nor my pain enough to bring you back
and neither my guilt enough to take me with u.
all iwant is darkness
all i want is sleep
backout
oblivion
all need is lethe
i have no right to mourn u
i didnt love u
enough to hold u
i didnt car
anough to be there
i have no rights
to anything
all i want
is a final exit
actually everything was beyongd repair now. his work, his marraige. with you, he thought, i have betrayed everything. when i turned away form you, my eyes burned the world down.
he was getting better, he supposed. everyday it got a little number where there was just raw pain before at first. everyday he lasted a little longer with out closing his eyes to see hier laughing mockingly at hiom. not his baby gentle laugh. a adult, sinister, cruel laugh. that seemed to say - who's sorry now.
without suddenly out of the blue efeeling her dead weight of her tiny, limp body in his arms gain. like a dead sparrow.
Guess I'm going through Changes
trying out something here. the old blog has moved (back) to http://recerche.blogspot.com again :) bear with me ... gypsy feet. I dont know (my favourite sentence). I was kind of spring cleaning. Read a LOT of old posts. Felt surreal. Have you ever met people and then totally forgotten about them, and then suddenly bumped into some stored recollection of them in some dusty corner of you mind, while looking for something else? I found some old selves. Had I really been that excited about reading red tails in love a year or so back? that bitter after the appraisals a month or so back. Guess in some ways the way I am is so fleeting that i lose track of all the me's i pass through. Why the sudden change? What do you do when you get to the end? u start again, right? I feel like I've run out of words. Run out of things to say. Like we hope at times, that changing something outside will change something inside, Im hoping that changing the blog will change the words inside it. Having said all that, I might change my mind tomorrow. Change is such hard work.
Its beautiful weather here right now. Not too cold. Not too warm. It rains, but only at night. I sit on the floor, by the window and watch.
Finally saw Chokher Bali on Sunday. Also saw, in one sitting: Kaal, Dhoom, Dil Malamaal, Chokher Bali, Blue Velvet, Silkwood and a old Harry Potter. The problem with online rental in the UK is the stock is much less than netflix or something like that so, what usually happens is you have about 300 movies in queue and u dont think too much about the last 100 or so cz u it feels like forever before u'll get to them, but everything in the first lot is invariably out of stock and you get something totally unpredictable. Wanna buy HOURS, though. And Motorcycle Diaries
Originally posted @ http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/guess-im-going-through-changes.html
Its beautiful weather here right now. Not too cold. Not too warm. It rains, but only at night. I sit on the floor, by the window and watch.
Finally saw Chokher Bali on Sunday. Also saw, in one sitting: Kaal, Dhoom, Dil Malamaal, Chokher Bali, Blue Velvet, Silkwood and a old Harry Potter. The problem with online rental in the UK is the stock is much less than netflix or something like that so, what usually happens is you have about 300 movies in queue and u dont think too much about the last 100 or so cz u it feels like forever before u'll get to them, but everything in the first lot is invariably out of stock and you get something totally unpredictable. Wanna buy HOURS, though. And Motorcycle Diaries
Originally posted @ http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/guess-im-going-through-changes.html
Pretty Words
all i have is pretty words.
multi colored.
and i weave
kaleidoscopic pictures,
with wild fancies
and stray dreams,
or inconsequential wishes, and thoughts
of my silly heart
all i have is pretty words.
to paint pretty pictures,
or sing pretty songs of love or pain.
What i want is to make them fly,
and all i want is to see them soar,
and all i want is make them roar with everything they need to say
make something real out of them
make them into something real
for example,
if i could use my words
to tell u how i'm feeling,
this minute,
or how i wept, last night,
hidden behind the half closed bathroom door
spilled over on the tiles in the darkness
hiding from demons
that were waiting in the bedroom,
under the pillow,
to sneak into a war dance
as soon as i put my head down.
or i'd tell you how she haunts me
everytime i close my eyes.
i feel like an orphaned child,
with nothing left to live for anymore,
and a feeling,
that this feelings just gonna grow.
that i dont belong to anybody anymore,
that nobody belongs to me anymore.
or, for instance, if i had the words to tell u how,
my life feels lived and behind me now.
that for every thing of beauty,
that i see outside or find within me,
theres nobody left out there,
that i'd care to show it to.
or no one to come home to.
image to live up to.
nothing to look forward to.
noone to hold on to in the night.
no love that comes without a price.
but i dont know how to say these things.
i dont know how to say anything.
if i did i would then tell u
how i think i'm falling for you
the way i wait for u to call
why it hurts when my hopes fall
and i realise
it would be wise
not to risk so much,
or anything as such,
cz though my heart,
the codeless gypsy,
the wild wanderer,
the arrogant conqueror,
the curious adventurer
the hungry dreamer
my blind foolish ambitious heart
my brave strong reckless heart
whispers urgings in my ear
time and again, i try not to hear
cz i know some risks are just too dear
cz life has taught me to fear
love, friendship, childhood,
and other pretty words.
and how they burn, and dig, and cut,
when they turn around.
i'll always be there ...
but no one's always there.
i'll always be there ...
noone's ever there.
in the night, when the demons dance
ur always alone by some freak chance
when the wind blows and sucks out ur soul
when the guilt drills into ur bones
by some happy or unhappy chance
ur always alone when the demons dance
multi colored.
and i weave
kaleidoscopic pictures,
with wild fancies
and stray dreams,
or inconsequential wishes, and thoughts
of my silly heart
all i have is pretty words.
to paint pretty pictures,
or sing pretty songs of love or pain.
What i want is to make them fly,
and all i want is to see them soar,
and all i want is make them roar with everything they need to say
make something real out of them
make them into something real
for example,
if i could use my words
to tell u how i'm feeling,
this minute,
or how i wept, last night,
hidden behind the half closed bathroom door
spilled over on the tiles in the darkness
hiding from demons
that were waiting in the bedroom,
under the pillow,
to sneak into a war dance
as soon as i put my head down.
or i'd tell you how she haunts me
everytime i close my eyes.
i feel like an orphaned child,
with nothing left to live for anymore,
and a feeling,
that this feelings just gonna grow.
that i dont belong to anybody anymore,
that nobody belongs to me anymore.
or, for instance, if i had the words to tell u how,
my life feels lived and behind me now.
that for every thing of beauty,
that i see outside or find within me,
theres nobody left out there,
that i'd care to show it to.
or no one to come home to.
image to live up to.
nothing to look forward to.
noone to hold on to in the night.
no love that comes without a price.
but i dont know how to say these things.
i dont know how to say anything.
if i did i would then tell u
how i think i'm falling for you
the way i wait for u to call
why it hurts when my hopes fall
and i realise
it would be wise
not to risk so much,
or anything as such,
cz though my heart,
the codeless gypsy,
the wild wanderer,
the arrogant conqueror,
the curious adventurer
the hungry dreamer
my blind foolish ambitious heart
my brave strong reckless heart
whispers urgings in my ear
time and again, i try not to hear
cz i know some risks are just too dear
cz life has taught me to fear
love, friendship, childhood,
and other pretty words.
and how they burn, and dig, and cut,
when they turn around.
i'll always be there ...
but no one's always there.
i'll always be there ...
noone's ever there.
in the night, when the demons dance
ur always alone by some freak chance
when the wind blows and sucks out ur soul
when the guilt drills into ur bones
by some happy or unhappy chance
ur always alone when the demons dance
How
how can someone abusing u
sound better than someone silent
how can one person, make the whole world
seem stupid and ugly and boring
how can broken faith stand again
how can i fall in love
sound better than someone silent
how can one person, make the whole world
seem stupid and ugly and boring
how can broken faith stand again
how can i fall in love
My favourite writers
There are many people who write but of all the blogs I have read till now there are three writers who I really love to read (apart, of course from my fav - pogie)anytime, everytime, eachtime. I wrote a lot of things but then I deleted it all. Sometimes I just run out of words.
Met a girl at the body shop yesterday who said she loved India and Shah Rukh Khan. She said she had gone and lived in Madras for a long time. Told her something weird - dunno - a slip? Not freudan I hope?
Reading Steppenwold atlast. Have had it forever but have been putting it off as I was scared of the big depression descending.
On my wanted list - trying to get hold of The Book Against God and some other books. Have it in my basket in amazon but never checked out. Somehow ran up a bill of almost 70 pounds and Im at my brokest this month. Phone bills mostly. As usual.
TGIF again. Looking forward to 2 days of sheer blissful blank. Toying with the idea of North Berwick this weekend. Or, I might go and finally check out what happening at the festival.
At somepoint I have to start thinking of certifications again. Need to choose from FPC 2, oracle or Java. Dont wanna do any of that though, which I makes it that much more exciting to look forward to.
Met a girl at the body shop yesterday who said she loved India and Shah Rukh Khan. She said she had gone and lived in Madras for a long time. Told her something weird - dunno - a slip? Not freudan I hope?
Reading Steppenwold atlast. Have had it forever but have been putting it off as I was scared of the big depression descending.
On my wanted list - trying to get hold of The Book Against God and some other books. Have it in my basket in amazon but never checked out. Somehow ran up a bill of almost 70 pounds and Im at my brokest this month. Phone bills mostly. As usual.
TGIF again. Looking forward to 2 days of sheer blissful blank. Toying with the idea of North Berwick this weekend. Or, I might go and finally check out what happening at the festival.
At somepoint I have to start thinking of certifications again. Need to choose from FPC 2, oracle or Java. Dont wanna do any of that though, which I makes it that much more exciting to look forward to.
too little too late
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of lifeand the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight..into the shining sun
Been ages since I heard Floyd. Seems fashionable (?) to hate Floyd and go for Terrapin these days ... or does it! This reminds me always of another VERY different, and as controversial (in our circles) song ... ghulaam ali, no less
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of lifeand the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight..into the shining sun
Been ages since I heard Floyd. Seems fashionable (?) to hate Floyd and go for Terrapin these days ... or does it! This reminds me always of another VERY different, and as controversial (in our circles) song ... ghulaam ali, no less
Dolly (Part 1) (version 2)
it was four in the morning. he stood by the water, leaning on the side of his car. the crickets were just begining to break through the silence, taking over from the daytime noises. everything else
was deserted and quiet. quite nearby an industrious spider spun busily away. there were a few drops of rain stuck on the web. they glistened in the moonlight. why had he never noticed how pretty
they were. he'd just been paranoid of ever getting near them. he wasnt scared of the spiders but he felt some nameless paralysis at the mere thought of walking into a barely material curtain
unawares and feeling it rest slowly on his face. dolly had always pulled his leg about it. daddy is scared of spiders. daddy's a scaredy paredey poo. the stupid silly things she used to say. all at once his
mind froze on that thought and came to a halt. its strange how one part of ur brain starts a thought and suddenly, in a delayed response the rest of ur brain latches on. in that strange way, the
whole of his mind registered that a part of his mind had used the past tense for the first time. he didnt feel anything. he wasnt the feeling sort. just a kind of clenching in his stomach. like something
went all tight for a second and made him hold his breath. then it passesd. it wasnt hard to deal with this. all he needed was not to close his eyes and not to think and to be left alone so that he could do
these things. he didnt want to forget. he didnt want to 'heal' - whatever that meant. he didnt want to be happy. he just wanted to be left alone. for now, atleast.
was he being unreasonable? overreacting? how much reaction is okay when your only daughter dies leaving u nothing really except a numbness, a feeling that nothing mattered.
he wasnt the only one in the world who had lost a child. he wasnt even the only one in the world who had lost this child. her mother, his parents, her parents, everyone loved dolly. everyone was
saddened by her loss. they were being far more rational than him, he knew that. yes, he knew that. but somehow, it felt like his case was different from all the others. he 'knew' at some level that it
wasnt really so, but still, it 'felt' that way. what was the difference? did he love her, sorry - had he loved her, more than they had? not really. perhaps the difference was that he had never loved
anyone else. he had not been very human to begin with. she had melted some tiny corner of his heart - just enough to make room for her little little self. now that she was gone and that room was
empty, and it felt like his numb, frozen heart would cave in a fall into itself, into the empty room. she had taught him to feel things but now that she was gone, he didnt know what to feel. he was in a
no mans land. neither here nor there
he spent hours by himself in her empty room.
and he felt like he had just been hung out in the cold. he couldnt go back to what he was a nd feel nothing and he didnt know waht to feel either.
she had not been his reason excuse to live, she had been but a reason why she he could not die, could not want to die
he thought now, while she had lived she had always blindly adored him. whatever her daddy could do no wrong. her daddy was her biggest hero. her daddy was above all things. beyond all things.
better than everything. now that she was dead would she have found out everything about hikm, all his hidden sins, transgessions, mistakes. all the times he had fallen, had not been able to help
himself, had cleaned up and come home to her later. shining in his daddy armour again? would she know nknow? would she still love him? did she hate him now?
why hadnt he come home. he had known she was ill. her wife had called the station frantically about a doxen times. dolly is burning with fever. dolly is acting strange. come home. scome home come
home. but he had kept putting it off. he hadnt taken it seriously. now he couldnt bear to look at his work. couldnt bear to walk into the little office. sit at the desk.
my love wasnt enough to keep you
nor my pain enough to bring you back
and neither my guilt enough to take me with u.
all iwant is darkness
all i want is sleep
backout
oblivion
all need is lethe
i have no right to mourn u
i didnt love u
enough to hold u
i didnt car
anough to be there
i have no rights
to anything
all i want
is a final exit
actually everything was beyongd repair now. his work, his marraige. with you, he thought, i have betrayed everything. when i turned away form you, my eyes burned the world down.
he was getting better, he supposed. everyday it got a little number where there was just raw pain before at first. everyday he lasted a little longer with out closing his eyes to see hier laughing
mockingly at hiom. not his baby gentle laugh. a adult, sinister, cruel laugh. that seemed to say - who's sorry now.
without suddenly out of the blue efeeling her dead weight of her tiny, limp body in his arms gain. like a dead sparrow.
was deserted and quiet. quite nearby an industrious spider spun busily away. there were a few drops of rain stuck on the web. they glistened in the moonlight. why had he never noticed how pretty
they were. he'd just been paranoid of ever getting near them. he wasnt scared of the spiders but he felt some nameless paralysis at the mere thought of walking into a barely material curtain
unawares and feeling it rest slowly on his face. dolly had always pulled his leg about it. daddy is scared of spiders. daddy's a scaredy paredey poo. the stupid silly things she used to say. all at once his
mind froze on that thought and came to a halt. its strange how one part of ur brain starts a thought and suddenly, in a delayed response the rest of ur brain latches on. in that strange way, the
whole of his mind registered that a part of his mind had used the past tense for the first time. he didnt feel anything. he wasnt the feeling sort. just a kind of clenching in his stomach. like something
went all tight for a second and made him hold his breath. then it passesd. it wasnt hard to deal with this. all he needed was not to close his eyes and not to think and to be left alone so that he could do
these things. he didnt want to forget. he didnt want to 'heal' - whatever that meant. he didnt want to be happy. he just wanted to be left alone. for now, atleast.
was he being unreasonable? overreacting? how much reaction is okay when your only daughter dies leaving u nothing really except a numbness, a feeling that nothing mattered.
he wasnt the only one in the world who had lost a child. he wasnt even the only one in the world who had lost this child. her mother, his parents, her parents, everyone loved dolly. everyone was
saddened by her loss. they were being far more rational than him, he knew that. yes, he knew that. but somehow, it felt like his case was different from all the others. he 'knew' at some level that it
wasnt really so, but still, it 'felt' that way. what was the difference? did he love her, sorry - had he loved her, more than they had? not really. perhaps the difference was that he had never loved
anyone else. he had not been very human to begin with. she had melted some tiny corner of his heart - just enough to make room for her little little self. now that she was gone and that room was
empty, and it felt like his numb, frozen heart would cave in a fall into itself, into the empty room. she had taught him to feel things but now that she was gone, he didnt know what to feel. he was in a
no mans land. neither here nor there
he spent hours by himself in her empty room.
and he felt like he had just been hung out in the cold. he couldnt go back to what he was a nd feel nothing and he didnt know waht to feel either.
she had not been his reason excuse to live, she had been but a reason why she he could not die, could not want to die
he thought now, while she had lived she had always blindly adored him. whatever her daddy could do no wrong. her daddy was her biggest hero. her daddy was above all things. beyond all things.
better than everything. now that she was dead would she have found out everything about hikm, all his hidden sins, transgessions, mistakes. all the times he had fallen, had not been able to help
himself, had cleaned up and come home to her later. shining in his daddy armour again? would she know nknow? would she still love him? did she hate him now?
why hadnt he come home. he had known she was ill. her wife had called the station frantically about a doxen times. dolly is burning with fever. dolly is acting strange. come home. scome home come
home. but he had kept putting it off. he hadnt taken it seriously. now he couldnt bear to look at his work. couldnt bear to walk into the little office. sit at the desk.
my love wasnt enough to keep you
nor my pain enough to bring you back
and neither my guilt enough to take me with u.
all iwant is darkness
all i want is sleep
backout
oblivion
all need is lethe
i have no right to mourn u
i didnt love u
enough to hold u
i didnt car
anough to be there
i have no rights
to anything
all i want
is a final exit
actually everything was beyongd repair now. his work, his marraige. with you, he thought, i have betrayed everything. when i turned away form you, my eyes burned the world down.
he was getting better, he supposed. everyday it got a little number where there was just raw pain before at first. everyday he lasted a little longer with out closing his eyes to see hier laughing
mockingly at hiom. not his baby gentle laugh. a adult, sinister, cruel laugh. that seemed to say - who's sorry now.
without suddenly out of the blue efeeling her dead weight of her tiny, limp body in his arms gain. like a dead sparrow.
No more goodbyes
my love was not enough to keep you
my pain is not enough to bring you back
my guilt is not enough to make me atone
my regret not enough for it to last
they come to you with affection
they come to you with bitter balms
i dont want to make it better
i want my pain to go on and on
all i want is darkness
so i can concentrate on you
all i want is to be left alone
so i can focus on the pain
all i want is to run behind
before you reach the banks of lethe
all i want is to understand this
how can you forget me
all i need is to believe this
that you could ever forget me
i have no right to mourn u
i failed u too often
i have no right, to touch ur soul
all i want is to run behind u as u fade away
all i want is to follow
or let it end this way
my pain is not enough to bring you back
my guilt is not enough to make me atone
my regret not enough for it to last
they come to you with affection
they come to you with bitter balms
i dont want to make it better
i want my pain to go on and on
all i want is darkness
so i can concentrate on you
all i want is to be left alone
so i can focus on the pain
all i want is to run behind
before you reach the banks of lethe
all i want is to understand this
how can you forget me
all i need is to believe this
that you could ever forget me
i have no right to mourn u
i failed u too often
i have no right, to touch ur soul
all i want is to run behind u as u fade away
all i want is to follow
or let it end this way
incomplete. maybe will finish someday.
this morning when i woke up
i was a child again
threw the day i grew up
as i waited for the rain
slowly the seasons change
nervous anticipation
nervousness becomes fear
fear turns to numb cold
as the sun rises the col unfreeazes
the day dawns with unincredulous happiness
excitement
i was a child again
threw the day i grew up
as i waited for the rain
slowly the seasons change
nervous anticipation
nervousness becomes fear
fear turns to numb cold
as the sun rises the col unfreeazes
the day dawns with unincredulous happiness
excitement
Like Repels Like
He was bored. It was his study hour. His father had locked him in the library, till he could say that he had finished his homework. He stared out of the window for a while, but soon grew bored with that. He stared around at the high walls covered with books, making the room look like it was dressed in brown and maroon leather, and it depressed him all the more. Giving up, he crashed himself sulkily into the chair at his appointed desk, and wondered what he could do to entertain himself, without incurring his fathers wrath any more than he already had. At one corner of the desk he found two magnets. The magnets looked big and powerful and important. first he played with the magnets and a lot of little pins lying around, making each magnet pull pins and then peeling the pins off. soon he was bored with that. then he brought the two magnets together. they kept pushing eachother apart. first this one then that. first this way then that. yet when he pushed them together he got a funny wobbly connecting feeling between them run through to his hands. this was fun. he kept pushing them together but he couldnt make them meet. first he was challenged and intrigued by the problem. after a while he got irritated and angry at its sullen and continuous impetinence in refusing to be resolved. Finally he got fed up with the whole thing and threw both the magnets away. They hit the corner of the desk and feel to the floor broken.
incomplete. will complete someday. maybe
this morning i met a child. he tugged at my skirt and drew my attention. paradoxically, shy and commanding at the same time. i was touched. i was moved. he was so sweet, almost ephemereal. i bent down to his level, to smile and say hello. the next thing i knew he'd shot up to the sky. towering. a hero. six feet (1) tall. before i had time to be surprised i was struck by awe. he was so beautiful. so different. so familiar. was he a distilled reflection of all the best parts of myself? or an angel from the above?. then before my eyes he changed again and became a monster. dark clouds. ugly rotten insides. putrid smelling dwarfed thoughts. ugly. petty. underdeveloped thoughts. collapsed reason. mayhem. madness. blindness. who was he? was he so different. so familiar. was he a distilled reflection of all the best parts of myself? or an angel from the dark?
Orange Skies
Sunset: In Edinburgh, on the 6th of August: the end of the days.
Originally posted @ http://prerona.blogspot.com/2005/08/orange-skies.html
TGIF
very long week. but didnt even see it as it passed. the festival is here. was supposed to go for something yesterday but couldnt make it. another week of 5am to 9pm. everything is blowing up everywhere. will have to come in tomorrow. im looking forward to the coming week. a bit embarressing. but atleast it should be quiet.
with the long heads season coming rowing will be something to look forward to! the festival will be amazing. am i lucky to be here this time of the year. u bet! im so excited!
saw an exquisite suit at Zaara. I will buy it. Havent bought a new outfit in ages! I think I finally 'see that I'm like all the rest''. (pom - beg ur pardon sweetie - wherever u are).
really looking forward to a long weekend of less work and more sleep! Will go out one night atleast. Will treat myself to a good steak and some good whiskey. I havent been out since dad left and that was some weeks. And its been a lousy 2 weeks. Its just when I met that guy at the makepovertyhistory that I realised I am in danger of becoming a hermit - whose idea of excitement was a 5K sponsored race!
By the way, remember my race, I raised the highest sponsorship amount in my team. And I think my time wasnt that bad for my first. So Im actually very proud of it :)
Doing a 10K next. Coming up.
It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that
I just don't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
And when we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.
with the long heads season coming rowing will be something to look forward to! the festival will be amazing. am i lucky to be here this time of the year. u bet! im so excited!
saw an exquisite suit at Zaara. I will buy it. Havent bought a new outfit in ages! I think I finally 'see that I'm like all the rest''. (pom - beg ur pardon sweetie - wherever u are).
really looking forward to a long weekend of less work and more sleep! Will go out one night atleast. Will treat myself to a good steak and some good whiskey. I havent been out since dad left and that was some weeks. And its been a lousy 2 weeks. Its just when I met that guy at the makepovertyhistory that I realised I am in danger of becoming a hermit - whose idea of excitement was a 5K sponsored race!
By the way, remember my race, I raised the highest sponsorship amount in my team. And I think my time wasnt that bad for my first. So Im actually very proud of it :)
Doing a 10K next. Coming up.
It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that
I just don't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
And when we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.
me
And it's me who's too weak
And it's me who's too shy
To ask for the thing i love
I am walking on the bridge
I am over the water
And I'm scared as hell
But I know there's something better
I am not the person who is singing
I am the silent one inside
I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes
I just pacify their egos
I am not my house, my car, my songs
They are only just stops along my way
I am like the winter
I'm a dark cold female
With a golden ring of wisdom in my cave
And it is me who is my enemy
Me who beats me up
Me who makes the monsters
Me who strips my confidence
I am carrying my voice
I am carrying my heart
I am carrying my rhythm
I am carrying my prayers
But you can't kill my spirit
It's soaring and it's strong
Like a mountain
I'll go on and on
But when my wings are folded
The brightly colored moth
Blends into the dirt into the ground
And it's me who's too shy
To ask for the thing i love
I am walking on the bridge
I am over the water
And I'm scared as hell
But I know there's something better
I am not the person who is singing
I am the silent one inside
I am not the one who laughs at people's jokes
I just pacify their egos
I am not my house, my car, my songs
They are only just stops along my way
I am like the winter
I'm a dark cold female
With a golden ring of wisdom in my cave
And it is me who is my enemy
Me who beats me up
Me who makes the monsters
Me who strips my confidence
I am carrying my voice
I am carrying my heart
I am carrying my rhythm
I am carrying my prayers
But you can't kill my spirit
It's soaring and it's strong
Like a mountain
I'll go on and on
But when my wings are folded
The brightly colored moth
Blends into the dirt into the ground
bogeyman
i had a child. after she came home from school, i gave her lunch and put her to sleep. i tucked her up under her favourite fluffy blanket, put her to sleep. I had lots of work. It had to be done right then. Urgent, important grown up work. She was fast asleep. She was a deep sleeper. She would be safe here, I told myself, and went to the study to do my grownup work. The bogeyman came by that afternoon. He passed by the window, next to which her bed lay. He had balloons, of many colours, round, shining. And flowers. And chocolate. And he smiled at her and talked of many things. Fairies, clouds, stars, people, the world, love, loss and rain. All the things that fascinated my little girl. She must have stared at him in wide eyed wonder. She must have cried a little to think of all the waste. She must have stopped and shut her eyes every now and then. She must have taken reality checks. She must have called out to me ... but I had been too busy to here her call. The bogeyman put a spell on her. She must have slipped out, somehow, through the grill that gaurded the window, inspite of everything I had done to keep her safely in. I was still in the study when I heard her cries. He made her come out and left her crying on the sidewalk. She stood there in the afternoon sun. bawling like the idiot she was. Crying because he was gone. She had thought he'd take her sailing on a cloud. They would float above the skies. Drop handfuls of rain on people below. Paint sunshine in the skies. Laugh thunder in the night. Was it typical of my role that at that moment anger battled sympathy? fear battled love? How do you take care of a child? How do you bring up someone right? How do you teach a wild, crazy, dreaming idiot ... the difference between right and wrong, the important things in life, the ways of the world, self respect, survival. its hard. its very hard. and it will get harder as time goes on.
wishlist
so much to be done. so little time. how will i fit it in! woke up late this morning. lost my prescrition. had to change my lenses but cudnt remember which power went with which eye. got home really early last night. 7 pm. was in bed by 8. still overselpt. its getting cooler again here. thank god. i cant bear too much sun. im addicted to these cereal bars and the strawberry milkshake now. so as soon as i wake up i start dreaming of breakfast. which, actually i do anyway. wanna buy another laptop. cant decide which. theres something wrong with clothes suddenly. i cant remember when i last saw a decent outfit. in a shop oir even on someone. have they suddenly stopped making non-shabby, non-paati, non-gross clothes worldover? while im at it I also wanna buya diray, a big office notebook, a new phone, a new pair of sneakers, a running belt, a new grey suit, with a new black shirt and new handbag. also wouldnt mind going into amazon and just ordering everything on my wishlist there ;) but its gonna take money ... a whole lotta precious money. so its gonna take patience and time. to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, right?
theres much to be said yet
and much to be done
much to be mended
lot to be won
then why do you say, again and again
theres nothing left to live for
everyday, every breath,
every morning, every star
the sun the moon the stars
birdsong, rain fall, cool winds, hot sun
flowers, smells, smiles
and more than all that friends and lovers
so much left to live for
dont throw urself away
dont throw ur life away
how do i reach you?
how can I talk to you?
how penetrate through
ur walls
u lie on my doorstep
in ur drug induced coma
ur smoking ur life away
ur hallucinating in purple
how do i reach you
how pull u back
i wish i could tell u
theres still so much to live for
they r not worth it
there's so many orphans
u can pull urself out of their muck
run away my caterpillar
fly away butterfly
spread ur mangled, tiny wings
fly away without a trace
dissapear in ur purple haze
and much to be done
much to be mended
lot to be won
then why do you say, again and again
theres nothing left to live for
everyday, every breath,
every morning, every star
the sun the moon the stars
birdsong, rain fall, cool winds, hot sun
flowers, smells, smiles
and more than all that friends and lovers
so much left to live for
dont throw urself away
dont throw ur life away
how do i reach you?
how can I talk to you?
how penetrate through
ur walls
u lie on my doorstep
in ur drug induced coma
ur smoking ur life away
ur hallucinating in purple
how do i reach you
how pull u back
i wish i could tell u
theres still so much to live for
they r not worth it
there's so many orphans
u can pull urself out of their muck
run away my caterpillar
fly away butterfly
spread ur mangled, tiny wings
fly away without a trace
dissapear in ur purple haze
after five days of entering the office at 4 am and leaving at 10 pm, i was exhausted. saturday i just slept from 8pm friday night to 12:30 saturday morning. finally when i woke, i couldnt resist the hunger pangs anymore. the pr5v night id been to tired to eat. so gobbled some choc cake and coffee and sat down to watch my movies of the week ... primal fear (they made a mistake - i didnt ask for that - but they sent it to me anyway) not my type but tolerable, torn curtain - ok, a very long engagement - dissapointing, rome, open city - goodish. then went over to sandeepa's place for lunch ... at 5:30. ate so much she had to make extra rice while i sat at the table. then we went out and chilled at the hard rock cafe near my place. after which i dropped her home and walked back again. that was 1:30 am. read some (woolf - sketches - first ed) usually i never read those about the author sections in the beginning but she just fascinates me. sunday morning, called home, friends watched some more movies, went out - took some photo's along a new road. another walled, paved, blaclk stone road near the botanical garden. came back watched shabd. fell asleep. today came late to wokr. 5 am. this weeks gonna be a killer too. but thats ok.