words

sometimes, the more you feel, the less you can say
maybe feelings are like silt just below your throat?

for all my acclaimed integrity and scorn of the impure and lesser,
i am damn thrilled with the tokens :D Thank you!

I will pretend to myself they are real be enjoy the warmth of the thrill for a while
As long as there are no misconceptions, I dont mind pretences, as long as we both know we're just playing

words games

As the time rushes by
like wind in my face,
and sand through my hands,
childlike again,
i try to pluck out from it
a few words, to stay mine

but how do you catch something so fey?

Looking through this emptiness,
holding my throbbing pain pressed still in my hand to calm,
desperate for distraction,
holding on the the last pieces of the corpse I still carry,
or struggle to ... because it has grown intwined with my sanity

i wonder if time has come to let go the ghost

The wet winds and silver skies
Underlined thunder, and the promise of soft rain
Makes me miss something,
or someone,
Or maybe just makes me miss missing someone

But who? Could it be you? Wish I knew.

I wouldnt dare miss you ...
Not with my kind of longing
(having still not learned half measures)
Wanting you, would come at such a price
And everyone knows I am broke
(having nothing left to give, or break, anymore)

Well, anyway

So I hold the "missing" in the palm of my hand,
gently, like a snowflake
And wait for it to melt.
It will pass, wont it?
The scary intensity of this moment?
You will go away, wont you?
I will be free again, wont I?

Because you disarm me and make me feel uncomfortable powerless

Anyway, so I crack a joke and turn away
Such a coward? No I'm just a realist
Save face. Dont rock anything. walk away.
Close the door very gently, so the lock doesnt click
Oh, yes. I leave room for my indecision
Always play safe (atleast, for yourself)

Fleetingly, looking through the emptiness (desperately seeking distraction) becomes looking for you.

Startled, my heart contracts
with a frission of fear.
Who are you?
Who is that I thought I saw for a moment inside you?,
Who is that you hide?
He looks like me!
Or like someone I know so well, from so long ago,
That I'd get him mixed up with me.

Can you let him out to play? Can I take him away? Just for a while?

Song in My Head (2 of 4)

He's laughing with another girl
And playing with another heart
Placing high stakes, making hearts ache
He's loved in seven languages
Jewel box life diamond nights and ruby lights, high in the sky
Heaven help him, when he falls
Diamond life, lover boy
He move in space with minimum waste and maximum joy
City lights and business nights
When you require streetcar desire for higher heights

No place for beginners or sensitive hearts
When sentiment is left to chance
No place to be ending but somewhere to start

No need to ask
He's a smooth operator

Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale

Face to face, each classic case
We shadow box and double cross
Yet need the chase

A license to love, insurance to hold
Melts all your memories and change into gold
His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold

No need to ask
He's a smooth operator

Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale





I'm so tired, of playing
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other girls to play
For I've been a temptress too long

Just,

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be, a woman
I just wanna be a woman

From this time, unchained
We're all looking at a different picture
Thru this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over, and give us some room

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be a woman
I just wanna be a woman

So don't you stop, being a man
Just take a little look from our side when you can
Sow a little tenderness
No matter if you cry

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be a woman
All I wanna be is all woman

For this is the beginning of forever and ever

Its time to move over

funny blue

funny. started to write the story of my life today
it was the first time that i thought of doing this
but then i lost patience before i reached ten, and thats when all the fun began :)
when i hate the blog is when i feel like i am using it as a crutch, to aid my crippled powers of communication in the real world, to tell someone something i darent face to face. so thats why i stopped
the last time me and barbie talked, we decided that the intense secrecy and the living in the past is madcaps's door. so that we must avoid
have ever since tried to be open-er, but then, who would understand

why do i keep getting caught in these lover's games? these triangles?
maybe that is what the astrolger meant? because they all take me back to that one night of humiliation, when i was first caught between to warring lovers, trying to get at themselves with their little love games and using fool me.

twenty odd years is a long time. dunno why it's still so fresh.

she was wrong. i am not that dumb. i dont fall for any story you tell me.
i dont. i dont. i dont. i refuse to. i wont fall for anything ever. it seemed like the only solution. not to believe anyone, ever. but i cant. she was right. like she said, she knows how she made me. god i hate her. and i love her. my pretty pretty monster.

so i swing. from extreme to extreme.

but i'm not dumb. i just humour you and dont let on. i can atleast put two and two together, just like the next person. lol. yeah right. thats why i keep getting caught in these lie-traps. how can you be like this? you amaze me. you are the chameleons: masters of trechery and disguise.

anyway, the catch is not to feel humiliated. just like a formulated for him. ur dumb bcz someone you loved is bitch enough to make a fool of you. your just trusting and loving. lol. yeah. dumb

It feels like the beginning of the end. I spent one year praying for this one year, and its just beginning to sink in that it is not to be. I feel guilty for every other prayer that I uttered in the period, and every other desire. Feel like I diluted my wish for you. Boston is so far away ...

I cant say these things to you. You would only laugh and tell me I am being silly. That I am being a big baby. Yes I am. I know. But I cant help it. So learn how to help it Bebu, you would say. I started with such a big headstart, lol, how did you so overtake me in grownup-ness?

I did the thing I most hated you doing. Wouldnt it be funny if we exchanged roles? If, like in the movie, if they met in nepal and instead of her dying he reformed her and sent her home and stayed back and became a junkie? be funny, no?

I know you would say not to be so panicked. Its only a year. But its not. Its the beginning of the end. It will never be the same again. We will drift apart again. I spent all those years building the most important relationship of my life, only to lose it again to time and distance ...

I feel like we cant put it off any longer, like we are finally now teethering on the edge of the cliff of adulthood. This is it. 'Life' now begins. I'm scared Barbie ... Scared of going alone, scared of cutting the chord, scared of flying, scared of jumping ... scared of flying solo ...

friend ...

It's been so long
I had forgotten, to even question it
Are you for real? Am I that strange?
You dont know me at all, do you?
How can I blame you. I know me even less.
How could you forget?
When we've loved like old cotton shirts on sunday afternoon skin
How could you doubt me, again?
Ofcourse I do, you big stupid.
And I always will.
You'll always be my best friend.
How could it be otherwise?
These things never change.
I'll wait right here
till you realise.

It Cannot Be ...

It cannot be :(
It cannot be :)
It cannot be :D
It cannot be ;)
It cannot be?
It cannot be!

It cannot be ...

Can it?

Keith Carradine - ...

Love

I sing alone, for an audience of one
This, is my deepest blood

I cut you my deepest blood
A token, a gesture, an offering

This is what I propose: everything, for everything
Will you strike a deal?

I feel gauche and naiive
Because I've never felt like this before

For this much, thank you
But for any less, no thanks

I'm sorry, the mistake was mine
An honest mistake

As always, I am absent minded
Sometimes, often, I just forget

On the road again

29 - 5. Will take a while to get back to 10, but I am happy, given the length of the break. I stop at the lake. The geese are very amused by stretches and think the bench press ridiculous

I run, usually, with my head down. It's a kind of home made blinkering system. I go early to avoid people. Still I often bump into people and things. I trip often. I mistake aquaintances for friends. Strangers for soulmates. See ghosts in vacuum. Sometimes I fall and get hurt. I get up, dust off and run again. But it's getting harder.

I need to stick to less peopled paths and times.

I frightened a sqirrel, store on mouth, on it's way home. It recovered and scurried away. I was left frozen. What if ...

Most days I wake up excited and happy. A new day! Then slowly the day and the world sinks in. The first flush is of anger and bitterness. Why? I hate making mistakes. I hate making a fool of myself.

These days I'm scared almost all the time. Scared, or fatal. Can you imagine feeling petrified of something, but not knowing what it is? Maybe someone's dancing on my grave.

Is a few days of the most exquisite happiness you have ever known, of learning, from scratch to take, to surrender, worth the crashing pain of coming reawakening? No it's not.

sunny days

Its the city of contrasts. As unashamdely contradictory as myself. Maybe thats why felt at home, right the first moment I stepped foot in it.

Is that strange? I used to think it bizzare. A new city, across the continents. One I knew nothing of, inspite of the stories and pictures I had seen and heard before I came here. But I still remember my first day in Edinburgh. I knew I was here for a few months. I knew it was not my kind of city, anyway. But weirdly, I felt at home as soon as I stepped in Princes Street.

There is a castle in the front yard of the city. You can stand on the sidewalk and look down at lucky people soaking the sun in the Princes Gradens below. Its a strange day. Sunny, but cool in the shade. Edinburgh style.

In my dreams, I am at the beach. It's late. I normally dont like noises at night, but here, I like like everything. Everything becomes beautiful because it 'belongs to here'.

Can you describe a texture in words. How does the sand feel between my toes and under my hands? It fine grained and damp in places, and sandpaper soft in places. But it's not the depth of the water, or the softness of the sand (though it helps) its the solitude I love here. The gulls and runners go home as the day leaves the the sky like a fading blush. Me and the big manor house are left alone on the shore to greet the moon. The silver of the moon reflected on the little egdes of water are like a childs laughter. Clean and Pure. I am arrested, floating above lethe. I dont want to lose a moment, or forget. The silence is intense, the night tries to hold one solemn moment before it breaks into the exuberant morning.

There are those moments when we are transported. It's strange how real a dream can feel. Can knock the living daylights out of reality. Coming back, first life seems bizzarely unreal!

There's a long haired boy sitting with a guitar and girl on the grass smiling up at him. Sometimes, you catch a stab of envy for careless youth that slips out before your everconscious conscience snakes out and grabs it.

I dream of a moment like that. But maybe we are too old to be able to live and lose ourselves in moments any more. You dont even window shop without checking warranties. Or maybe not being able to live or lose yourself in a moment is the self defense of those who feel too intensely; or are too chicken? Courage is not the absence of fear, but trying to overcome it.

It might sound strange to you, but I get cheap thrills everytime I manage a clever subterfuge. However trivial and small. When I hold a calm front when I am mad inside. Or laugh when I'm hurting. It feels good. I feel cool. I'm a fool (who makes his world a little safer).

And you will never know how scared I was. Or how brave.

A Poem for You

it's not one whole sunny day
but bits and pieces are really bright
it's cold in the shade,
but whenever the sun finds you it warms you
dreams, joys and hopes
come true and brighten up the days
in bits and pieces
though not whole

in the beginning i had drafted specs
and submitted it to life
i had thought of everything
that i could possibly want
and everything i could do without
life laughed. i sulked
but still, it gives me something every day
enough to be happy for the day on.

somethings we try to forget, or get out off
everything is like a habit, like smoking or drinking
you detox. and stay clean for a long time. even years.
then one day you get a whiff of what it was like
maybe someone standing next to you at a bus stop
cigerette in hand, blowing smoke in your face
just that much, is enough to send you reeling.
like riding a bike, it all comes back
and you have to get used to it all over again.
and you did'nt even smoke first hand. what a shame.

strange, the things that stay back
an echo of laughter haunts a deserted hotel room
some textures stain your hands,
busy as the day chatters on,
it the stains float in the background
and words. strange words stay embedded
in strange moments
the most stunning lillies came by post
they were so beautiful
it broke my heart to think how short lived they were
everything is so ephemereal
sometimes it makes me angry with flowers

you took me totally by surprise
i was gaurding the door
i didnt think of the window
or the ventilators
and like in the song
thoughts of you keep sneaking back in
from strange gaps in the fortress
here and there
you become, the happy ghost
the ghost who haunts me

That doesnt really say it, though
Does it?
What could I say ...
Are there words?
I am left
behind you. in a trail of jetlag
word-bereft

pandora's box

Time, fades the knowledge,
The fear, the remembreance of how potent
The power of the dark,
Thoughts and feelings
Were on your heart
Careless, you turn to the dark and dusty corner
Half forgotten, open the box
Rummage, pull in one bright piece of a memory
Share, and laugh.

Then later,
At night,
When the guests have gone
And, you, alone with your ghosts
The unmentionables,
You wrestle with the memories
And the tears
And you know you wont let them win
But a part of you, weak traitor,
half wishes you could

Do you?
Do you really wish you could let go, just once
Let the day fall heedless around
Let the world dissolve
In the light of an aging sun
While wallow inside the trunk
Of old memories
Yesterdays. Selves. Now gone.
Ghosts, and skeletons
packed, any old how,
shoved into corners
Of carefully concealed corners
Along attic walls

For tonight, these are the memories I found:
chameleon master of trickery masks

Dusk to Dawn

Open Invitation

The Haunting

Black

can you, want something desperately,
and not know if you want it at all?
there is no helplessness comparable.
my sweet beautiful life: i never thought
even you would ever put me there.
there must be a way out of here.
there must be a way i am not seeing.
i am scared of my own intensity.
i am scared of the monsters i could create.
i scared, now, of my own shadow.
for the first time, i am now scared
i who jumped in always heedless.
for the first time realise, i never cared before
fear springs from love and care
there is nothing more fearsome than to care
i have never profited from relationships

just a box of rain

it's not that it does not work, just that it's hard. damn hard. but then, like i said earier, it's like a bad habit that needs to be unlearnt. all you need is patience. detached patience. you will keep failing, but persist and the rate of failures will go down. catch is, patience was never one of my virtues. and persistence even less so.

so i try to zone out the noise and focus on my box of rain. my mind is a room, and it's stored in the corner, by the wall, under the mirror (significant) and in the second drawer of the chest. hidden in the best disguise: obvious-ness.

in my mind, i walk to it, pull open the drawer, and pull out the 'box'. not really a box, but we are being metaphorical. i pull out the contents. let's say, for the sake of maintaining the masks and fronts, i pull out a rainy evening. the sky looks silver grey. the shingles are wet and glossy. the tree sway as if to shake off the little drops of water. and a lone bird sings. the sun looks ... there you see, it brings me right back to the f sun! there must be some way outta here? however, its much easier now having made up my mind. the point is, you have to fall out of love with the old ways, and open your mind to the new. and the way will come and find you. there's nothing admirable about cowardice. but then, who am i to cast the first stone. what have i ever been if not craven?

so does it feel any better? not an inch, unfortunately! i must be some sorry kind of scorp! cant stay mad, for all my efforts ... concentrating like arjun on the target ... it still forget 5 times out of 6. Thats not all, when I do remember, I am more hurt in anticipated sympathy than the other person, who probably, is oblivious through this whole drama ... so the binary, is the only option then. Just dissapear. Casually friendly is MUCH harder. Its all to fucking loaded.

All this is born of the deceit. I know I owe it to be more honest. But I am such a coward ... I dare not!

Silly

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

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.