kaboom.

very soon I want to delete this, I anyway mostly write here


And yes, noone has ever had access to it. If I compare both these places, I always find that place is literarily more enriching, maybe because its exactly what I feel. Here I write what I think and sometimes snippets of feelings. knowing , certain specific people *will* read it, knowing they *will* judge me.

Also, over the last few months it seems like I'm being to made to believe that after all I'm not that positive a person I project to be.
I'm in fact always looking for some unhappiness in the happiest of the things, some pain in pleasure.
That I love hurting myself.

Don't know how to deal with this one, but this too shall pass.

tired of being tired

I’m tired of receiving messages from boys that begin –
I’ve been unfair to you . . .
or other vain attempts at apology
or redemption
and of the ways in which I allow that to be good enough for me
every fucking time.
because I already know that I’ll respond to say –
it’s okay
and
all emotional responses are valid
and
I value you and your feelings.
Even after mine have been disregarded, mangled, and/or misconstrued.

because I am tired of being tired.

I’m tired of all of these
ridiculous
hapless
inconsistent
responses to my images.
of being the wrong [anything] at [any time]
of laundry lists of my inefficacy
and this is the end.
I’m sick of living a life
in deference to
in consequence of
dependant upon
men

strange moments of joy occur

I was pushed from the slowly moving car at approximately 5:30 in the morning. He had been driving with my torn body in the passenger seat for what felt like hours. Slowly muttering to himself in a language that I could no longer understand. The trail of blood that ran down my chest - my legs - grew still as my nose occasionally dripped, and I dabbed at the ache with the sleeve of my jacket. The clothes underneath told another story, and I wound that coat around. For the warmth and for the comfort my own arms contained.

My throat was dry and parched from several hours of screaming at and for no one. Until I lost my voice, and there was just the desire to scream - the frustration that comes with unwanted silence. Leaving only the methodical - thump, thump, thump - of the table hitting the wall. Of my thighs hitting the table.cracking under feet. The occasional fist into skin.

Caked with blood and barely able to see beneath my two black eyes, I hit the pavement. He only used one huge hand to set me free. It rained, and I remained in the street with an open mouth - felt the cuts on my lips split as each drop fell down. Kept my eyes open as long as I could. The world was suddenly covered in Vaseline.

It took another hour to figure out what to do. Wandering the semi-light downtown streets with the junkies, pushers, and whores. Without money or identification. Waited for a bus, but the driver took one look at me and wouldn't let me on without the fare. The air from the door stung when he closed it in my face. I did not yet know what I looked like. Commuters were already filing in. And I stood in front of humiliated, begging for change to make a phone call. One woman stopped, finally, to give me a rupee. She looked sad as she passed it into my palm. As if she knew something I didn't. Get off the streets, she muttered while turning to walk away. She didn't look back.

I called him then. Had to wake him up. Barely audible through the downtown traffic and straining to use my abused vocal chords. I'm fucking in trouble, I whispered. And that was enough. He arrived around 7:00 am. The immediate reaction was simple. Horrified. Things must be worse than I even imagined. He didn't take any measures to hide it, and the fifteen minutes it took to get back to his house were filled with questions that I would never completely answer -- What the fuck happened to you? -- What the hell is going on? He was hysterical and sobbing.

He spent the next few weeks clinging to my bruises. Holding me upright in the shower. Applying peroxides and creams. Bandages and medications. Holding me together. It was during those days that I forgot how to speak. When I began to rely on my hands. Realized the safety of silence.

Yeah you got it easy dude!

Me: I started learning riding.
A: What?
Me : A bike.
A: its a great way to meet rugged men
Me:its a great way to meet rugged men and hot girls. I love this life.
A: Hot girls haha really are you including yourself, because that doesn't count.
Me: I'm not in the hot league ya I'm more like, unaware. uselessly careless.
A: no its a biased opinion that's why
Me: I've never felt hot , never been told so either.
A: i cant call myself anything either you need external validation in today's world
Me: external validation can come up at the pop of slight cleavage.
A: haan thats my point
Me: and in your case I don't know, men don't even have a cleavage
A: yeah money i think money should work
Me: their hotness is so hidden and mischievous
money pagal ho kya
A: okay disposable money
and i disagree on male cleavage
Me: why do you think then hotness is always portrayed as torn jeans, unkept hair, open shirt. Thats not what an ideal rich man would be.
A: we have people like that John Abraham dude running on beaches like an idiot
Me: and that Raymonds ad. How can you forget that.
A: what about james bond
Me: james bond is a douche
A: yeah but you have a point
Me: he just has cars and swank.
A: to women he becomes hot. Only after his necktie and suit are torn
Me: see, so money isn't what makes them hot enough.
A: i agree
Me: its all moh maya, gehra jaal hai. gehri psychoanalysis hai.
A: so its basically not taking a bath and wearing old clothes
Me: THAT is hot btw.
A: dude men have it quite easy
Me: see, they do.
A: i never figured this
Me: thank me later, im good.
A: haha


Men, do have it easy.
f you're a guy, the simplest decision to go to a certain place late at night doesn't need more than a moment's consideration. For women, though, there's a lot to think about--is it safe, do they need an escort, and is it worth going there at all?
Men can burp and its just normal.
You have no idea how painful waxing can be unless you've tried it.
Men have lesser clothes to be bought.
[ok, now you'll say women buy too many out of choice and you don't then listen - shoes don't go with indian clothes and chappals don't go with dresses and heels don't go with every day stuff, BY DEFAULT there has to has to be a huge list on that. Got it?]

Im not even going on child birth and PMSing and all the social stigma of flirting, studding, casanovas , being a slut..da da blah blah. and what not and this not.
Also I promise I shall write soon why men don't have easy. Its not a one sided opinion. I am myself quite a North Indian man as a friend once said.

what I've learnt...

or NOT.

I'm no relationship expert, but ive been in a few. The consuming deeply in love, one way traffic love - the stalker love - the har ladke ko dekhke bolna , yahi mera sacha pyaar hai- love.
The happy love.
The love love.
and then, whenever I got sick of it, I'd look in the mirror and tell myself ,
" kya cheez cut piece "
yes, I do that very often its called loving yourself.

So many a things people teach us, not much we take ahead and apply... here you go,


. Some people deserve a place at Madam Tussauds not your heart!
. To be able to say I love you , you need to learn to say the I.
. Nothing is made in heaven, nothing - its just all around us, its how much we take out of it. how much we make out of it.
. In the end, the love you take is NOT equal to the love you make.
. love is not friendship.
. every person is different, what you learn from one, if applied on the other -is more often than not a recipe for disaster.
. there are no rules, except exclusivity.
. noone changes, its just the worse bargain you get into to change a person and then love.
. its ok to wear your heart on your sleeves and get it trampled at times.
. if a boy is chasing a girl, its the most romantic thing, if a girl does that - she's just plain desperate.
. we are all hypocrites.
. words are just for that moment, actions remain marked.
. nobody is fearless.
. there's always one person dominating it from the brain, the other uses the heart.
. If someone is not doing something they claim to do, it can be assumed as -
.They just don't want to.
.they could have if they *really* wanted to.
.or they want to, but are incapable of doing so, blame stupidity.
The lesson learned here is - how stupid we are to base things on assumptions, or then how stupid we are to not take it at the face value. its a vicious circle [ you learn nothing here, its just a fact, how it is ]

and things I will never learn ..

. jo bhaaw khata hai usko bhaaw milta hai.
. giving space.
. the benefit of doubt.
. how to unlove.


all said and done, I need to learn to forgive my soul, only I can do it for myself.


"aadatan tumne kardiye waade,
aadatan humne aitbaar karlia..."

somedays I feel like froth.

Ive spent the last few hours with two people who have seen me since that phase when you are ugly, like man brows. The coolest I got back then was to wear black sports shoes with anklet socks and a stud metal bracelet. ( and yeah, back then this was damn COOL btw)
they've always seen me happy. Never seen me drunk, except for the first time, - these girls got me drunk on frooti and vodka and I stood under the shower with clothes on for 10 minutes. 5 years back.
they've seen me fall in and out of love with men, and tell them that " yaar but wo mera sacha pyaar tha"
they perhaps know me the best, would love me the most, have seen me happy the most. have seen me go from size 8 to size 12.
But,
they saw me in tears last night for no reason. For just telling them that I have hidden more than I shared, that this smile and the jokes, they all have a serious side , that I do have strong believes and rigid notions about people, about life, (which they have always rubbished as immaturity) which, I am very sure they will soon realise why I have them.

I feel I am cheating most people around me.
I have the facts,
I have the feelings,
I have the thoughts,

and they have all just been mine.
Call it selfish, protected, masked, or even a cheat.
but for me to reveal all of them ...even to myself, and being in peace with everything I am - means being out there on a display. The highest bidder of patience and responsive listening wins.

Till then, I shall laugh.

To the people, who are my friends - I'll always be around.
and to the people I called lovers - you don't know me.


to myself - I need a drink. that huge mug of coffee. ya, that giant one!

ok fine, go!

nice dress , he says
I say, huh?
I’ve been chasing those polka-dots for a block and a half, he says
I say, oh?

the summer dress
my pig-tails
this lollipop

what flavor is that? he asks, stupidly matching his own steps to mine down the street past the stadium and heading toward the overpass that will take me home.
i pull the sucker out of my mouth; make a sound with my lips, and say plainly, flatly, orange.

sun makes people stupid

the ball of sugar sweet candy screams bright under the sun
it’s the same color as my hair

no it isn’t, he smiles, wryly, shaking his head.

he thinks I’m flirting. I’m not.

why is your mouth blue then?

I’ve never taken out my head phones: if i tell you will you go away?

he laughs and it sounds like that background noise on animal shows when they’re in the midst of way too many monkeys closed behind too many glass partitions.

I say, because I’m an alien?

why did you say it was orange?

and i’ve no idea why i’ve said what i have, instead i’m thinking about the word wildfire and all the stupid things i’ve ever done in my life. i think about the way i'm in love with the curves of my calves. i wonder if i’m combustible and if i’m only one match short of proving the point.

i say, orange is the color of encouragement and the stimulation of knowledge. it’s the color of the brave. it’s the sun. power. life.

no mention of destruction.

where are you rushing off to? he asks inappropriately as a stranger encroaching on my solitary walk after a long day.
i say, my boyfriend is waiting for me at home.

it’s not really a lie. not one i’ll ever feel guilty over.

we step still and i say, raspberry?
but why did you say it was orange?
i pause and take the hard end out of my mouth, hold it out to him and say, i was hoping the contradiction would make you go away.

and he does.

Not home yet!

As I see people around me making phone calls which mostly say
" Yes I am leaving in 5..see you"
I know its those people who have someone wait for them once they are out of this three floored corporate dunk. Yes I call it that because it is that at most levels.
These twenty something goodlooking intelligent people, somehow have chosen a difficult path for themselves, the initial years right after 5 or 6 years of law school - should have been their time to enjoy the bundles of money they earn , I say bundles because of the place I am at currently.
And all they have is the green, barely time to spend it , barely people to share it with.
Best part is that they don't complain or maybe this is the worst.

Cut to my situation, I am a mere intern with some "more than average sense of intellect " (which is the best complement my boss could give me and has made my day) on occasions and mostly a chimpanzee who has learnt how to type (yes, I get that often thanks to my lack of patience to format.
So my work is to do the menial research work at most times, sometimes its research which has been created to just give it off so I stop nagging that I dont have any work, however - the last week I have been working on something important. At most certainty the piece of work will be enacted as a law soon.
Downside - its credit less hardwork. And something I can't complain or ask for , infact just feel happy that I was given such work!

The next half hour will be wasted in ordering dinner. The next forty in having it.
But then that is how they maximize their work.

The same guy just called up again and said .." Honey 5 more minutes"
She is waiting for you dumbass, either cancel the plan or be honest with the time you're going to take!

Right from wrong!

“This is wrong.”

I thought I had purged my mind of my mother’s voice, yet her strident tones still echoed through my brain, muffled but not silenced. .

Brush your teeth, clean your room, go to bed, and other orders ingrained in my head during my childhood had ceased to resound through my skull, yet one phrase remained, preserved.

“This is wrong.”

Wrong means bad. Wrong means red X’s scattered across your test like confetti. Wrong means the hellfires of damnation, which I stopped believing in (along with God and heaven), but which still have the power to frighten me, like the chainsaw-wielding villain I saw on TV when I was six, who I knew wasn’t real, but was really cackling manically before me every time I shut my eyes.

“This is wrong.”



Off late, a whole new set of rights and wrongs are coming my way.
This time the choice isn't simple enough.
The concept of right and wrong was taught to us as kids, and was supposed to be kept in the mind before taking all decisions in life. A very simple thing, but i never knew while growing up i will forget the importance of asking myself if something do is the right thing to do or I'm doing it just because i want to do it.

A gradual change, imperceptible to the unperceptive, a change in lilt, in tone, in meaning.

A silenced tongue is wrong, not the feelings it might expound if freed.

A bound body is wrong, not the movements it may make unshackled.

Cloaking an atheist in the robes of a sister is wrong.

Hurting someone who loves you is wrong.

Giving up your self respect for anyone or anything, no matter how precious or "loved", is ..uhmm, well.. wrong!


The words have not changed; my conscience is preserved, the influence destroyed.


This is right.

rinse. repeat

This won't go easy, nothing ever did.
It's weird when I sit here and see the rain, the drops on the window, the surrealism, the poetic streak rain carries with itself, et al...and thinking how much it is a relief from the heat.
It has no effect on me.

People are always apprehensive of what will happen in their future, I on the other hand know my life cycle works in accordance with seasons, I wish I didn't know myself and the cycle so well.

This summer, is truly no different than any other.
I just fear what's yet to come.




"Tu ja bhi chuka phir bhi maen tanha nahin ab tak..
suraj ke doobtay hi andhera nahin hota..."

Questions

A week back

T : Khana khaya?
Me : Haan, whats there to ask have u seen my size you think I can live without food?

T : did you sleep well?
Me: ofcourse I did, I love sleeping I can't sacrifice it for anything on this planet.

T : please study priya, abhi fir internet fir facebook, shut it and study.
Me: Whats your problem? har hamesha daant.

T : switch on your car headlights you will bang your car some day.
Me : I know I had to do that I was just about to.


Today,

Me : Shit yaar, I want someone to ask me if I had food or I slept well or I studied. most random of them I want to tell someone that I woke up and I could see some guy from the window hanging outside to paint the walls. Noone wants to know my randomness.

J : tu pagal ho gayi hai? why would you want to tell all this to anyone, why would anyone even want to know?

Me: kyunki aadat hai yaar, batane ki.

J: haan, kuchh aur karle. Will call you in a bit.

2 hours later.

J : mann shaant hua?
Me : Haan I made pasta and had it.
J : your solution to every problem is food , right?
Me: yes, isnt that cute?
J: huh? why would that be cute.
Me : oh shit, wahi na tabhi toh I am feeling unknown..*he* used to find it cute, now I am a nobody. Unperson me!


This is the problem with people who stay in a relationship too long, they become random! They like talking about random things, after the few months of knowing each other and no more to it, its about thrills from randomness, surprisingly they enjoy it about each other and its the highlight of the day to know the most randomest thing about someone elses day;
and No matter how much I miss it ; this is it.

Time to indulge in more meaningful conversations eh?


*shoot me in the head*

1984

"I betrayed you," she said baldly.

"I betrayed you," he said.

She gave him another quick look of dislike.

"Sometimes," she said, "they threaten you with something—something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, 'Don't do it to me, do it to somebody else, do it to so-and-so.' And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it. But that isn't true. At the time when it happens you do mean it. You think there's no other way of saving yourself and you're quite ready to save yourself that way. You want it to happen to the other person. You don't give a damn what they suffer. All you care about is yourself.

"All you care about is yourself," he echoed.

"And after that, you don't feel the same toward the other person any longer."

"No," he said, "you don't feel the same."



Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me—

*shrug*

for long I complained, I belong to a time where is no mass struggle, no massive change, nothing that could make history enough for text books 100 years hence.
How wrong.
Egypt.
Libya.
Japan.
India won the worldcup!
The much useless royal wedding.


and voila...! They killed Osama!

While all this was happening, I sipped on some more tang.

So here I am,
after full circles of sorts. Just nowhere.
Indulge.

As for you - congratulations for the grand glorious wedding Tang

Dun it.

Blah
Sent on my BlackBerry® from Vodafone

Significant

Today!

All I can hear is fingers struggling with keyboards.
and even in this silent, surreal vacuum...I don't feel alone and creepy.

Maybe, some people...just belong to themselves. Period.

...

I missed the warning sign.. yet again!

. And

I dream about drowning.
Not the choke to sputter darkness or the slow drift into light, But the kind of swim sparkle sun floating madness one gets from lulling in a hand-me-down seventies unheated water-bed.
I dream aboutliving in a place that always rains.
And the grey skies are all my sunshine days.
And now, under big comic blue skies and neverending grass fields and foreign tongues like spies- I long for landscape. And drizzle.
I long for the slow rocking madness of those moments in flight where I drifted and sucked water to breathe like oxygen.

I wanted to write something gently soft about the way life feels these days. But everything comes out always hard A's and concrete retaining walls. If ever I was lonely or alone things might be different. But this is a different kind of new. And everything that ever was like the way to spell the word color or the shape of my own face feels foreign. daunting. irresolvable. like public school maths. And the weight and consequence of my own tongue.


Dear Don Williams, stop singing Broken Hearts in your deep voice in my tiny head, cause then, first thing in the morning that I do...is start missing you! :(

Coffee Black and Cigarettes...

Bitterness is sweet.
Jumbles are addictive.
Circles are trippy.


.. roses are red, violets are blue?
Oh! yeah, yeah, we heard that. We done that. We have that, we don't.
You do?
I don't.
You pity?
I proud.
You sense?
I non sense.
You see?
I close my fuckin eyes!

Pictures are blind.
eyes are black and white.
water in the desert?
No, its a mirage!
That is fuckin scientific, that word - Mirage!..
You see beauty? I see pain.
You see that?
I see this!

Wherever you go...THERE you are.
Yes, There...It's always there!

Numb. Cold. Heavy. Hollow.
words are alphabets.

Oh, and I see the sunrise sometimes, but the sun doesn't rise, the earth revolves.
That was 2nd grade science? Or my ideas are fucked up?

Then, Then, Then,
and Now , Now, Now.
You see non sense?
I see meaning.
In what?
In nothingness.
Goodnight?
Tap. Tap. Dance!

My Maniac and I!

and if it comes to the rain, just be glad...
because so many ...
because so few...
because so ....
it happens!..

The ghosts who broke their heart before they met each other, lingered in their mind, their pictures perfectly framed in black ebony wood, maybe ..
they were sorry, their sorries stayed.

Oil Spill!

Everything always turns out this way. I've forgotten you. Again. Like you were dead or I'd been drinking a lot.

Sometimes, it doesn't.

If love were inexplicable like shotgun shells and the way your eyelashes feel against my spine late nights then I've been seeing someone else;

No!. Again. That's no way to begin.

Then,fuck! can't you fuckin see. YOU!

and maybe I've been drunk enough
let down enough
cried stupid and dry more than enough
maybe this is the end;

Used to believe we were a valid excuses for a relationship!

If you can see. what I mean.
I desperately wanted to have something to say; but my tongue feels like navy knots. and the only words i can think of are oil spill.

"...Yeh zindagi jo hai naachti toh;
Kyon bediyon mein hai tere paaon..."
That guy, Hitesh; Idiol - MU 32104, Nagpur just made me smile :)

Love's Bull Shit!

When you love someone, you open yourself up to suffering – that’s the sad truth. Maybe they’ll break your heart, or maybe you’ll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks. You see two people and you think, "they belong together," but nothing happens. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight. We feel that weight on our backs but they are a burden that lifts us.


Uh, .. bull shit!

When you love someone, its just an incessent desire to be with the person, or have them feel the same for you. If they don't you chase them, if they do, you make them chase you. If you're being loved, in most certainty you are honest only till you get an apportunity to be otherwise, then you cheat. Maybe with one, maybe two, maybe more. Someone might know you're cheating them and accept cause they chose to "understand" or their desire to keep loving is more than the disgust of being just an opportunity, in some they don't know they're just one of them, cause they get love in every form, mental , emotional, physical, economical.
Yes its getting complicated now; because that's how love is made to be. We chose to lie, hate, curse, swear, or worst; numb ourselves.
And then we blame age, distance, convenience, or the lack of it - and they become excuses for not rising in love, we call it falling love. The incapability to see, the fear of a lonely night, forces us to succumb to that desire.

This was true? No. Fuckin bull shit!

In reality, its just an emotion. What is more important is to be compassionate. Wanting love just gets in the way of losing compassion.
Oh and complications?
In any given situation, if its love - there will always be amply good reasons or none enough to not grab any opportunity ; there will be amply more to slip, to fall; to fall out of love - reasons being, again convenience.
When its love, the former always has a heavy say.

Ahh, perhaps more fuckin retard bull shit!

Its actually, A burden that allows us to fly! :)

Nothing that is complete, breathes!

Perhaps it gets worst only when its getting better.



They say unfinished business at the time of death, brings back the dead. Aaah. Now that I am looking forward to!

Uhmm.

She knows that real people. reel. go on becoming and that life isn't
strictly about pixelations
curled
like hair styles
over lines
but the way life moves
the geography of meaning

oh now that's good
that
s something we all regret the point and shoot of our lives
to fill picture books with
that won't hold the still that we worked out 10 years later
onto sticky pages
to ruin the print
but not the memory of the fumes
that made it all
make sense inside your
revolving
infra
red
door
head


Sometimes special words apply themselves to being gone. The act of flying away some moment of palliation meant to lay hands and heal. To honor lost things. To forget everything you keep on remembering in the locality of your space. Your place. The jagged fragments of a life caught in the gaps between the teeth.

You hot me chocolate!

...and one thing which for sure, more than you wait for the sun, three times. Love me two or drench me down with that smile till my cheeks hurt. People like me love celebrating alone, no not with alcohol or drugs or that cakes and milk shakes poem; BUT BUT BUT! Its just simple you see, try whisteling on a mirror in winter, it makes haze...it goes away; and thats when it started.
Ya ya, I fancied a life like this a few years from now,thinking, dreaming, oping, preaching that in the end eventually everything settles and its going to be perfect.

Well, this is it. The few years have gone by since the last time I got this thought. Everyday is that day I wanted in the past, and this concept is going to take me away from being a cynic. But it god damn fuckin is.

Tata for now.
The happiest post in ages?
Dayuummm.

Day 1

Like Jake Sully said,
"since you thing you are the strongest; who would attack you? you would never look up!"

A 7/10 only because, politically, demographically, visually it was appealing!
Oh and there was something very cheezy about the movie, for the rest of it, I had Pulkit grinning like an idiot, and Tanay needs to stop blabbering that heartbreak kid, love love in my head, cause I hate him for that!


Perhaps, we all make this mistake.
Once.
Once again.
Once more?
And, the cycle will continue?

Such is life or what?!

Damn me, the Atomic County and Guitar picture from the right column, have gone!
Why?
Cause O.C was a teenage obsession (how ancient I sound when I say that, despite being asked to stop behaving 13!!)
And, The guitar cartoon, well...past is past! :)
So, Things , people, events, places, songs, even foods to eat - become insignificant after some time!
When a person like me, couldn't survive without a frooti a day, just can't stand that sweetness, wonder if its just time. Things once liked will always be liked, maybe a time span of boredom comes in way; and then you get back to it. - that is how people do it.
I, on the other hand, OVERDO it at the first place, and when I shut. I shut it up. Forever, is not JUST a very long time. It's just... well, forever.

"Fuck fuck fuck for the sake of a fuckin life, mara lo salon , pathhar padenge kisi din, "

People are so fuckin strange, bloody all of the kinds who would suck up to you , when they WANT something, emotional, mental, physical (If I may say) and then, in the end. You stand in the corner, fuckin feeling like a doormat! Derogatory eh? a doormat? NO, thats not how I fuckin feel about myself, that how Im gonna make "them" feel. Oh no, not a doormat, a bloody wasted good for nothing, vegetable!
And then one day, when you bump into me...at lets say a coffee place? I'll smile, and crunch your stone heart into a tiny pebble, because I can crush stones you see. I am strong and
Such is life!

And when 5 years hence, you wrinkle, and old and your godforsaken marriage sucks, cause your life sucks and wife doesn't; oh she does! she does! she does the cute gym friend she has, cause you'r of course growing old, working 18 hours a day and doing the junior in office! I will point all fuckin fingers at you , and the thumbs down! YES! haaa!
Such is life!

And When that topper screams of "I dont cheat and I get 5% more than you, and I top and your'r just another 70 per-center" I will, rip the happiness apart from that sly face of yours, cause my dear friend, you aim for the sky, my aims are a million fuckin times beyond it, and when you behave you know it all and snob it all, I do it for the love of it! You hide your fuckin sheet with ten times effort; wherein it was me fifteen minutes back outside the exam hall, telling you HOW to make sure you do NOT fail.
But such is life!

When that superly hot looking girl in the class, tells you "Kolapuris in winters?" and yes oh, oh, she is wearing leg warmers in Delhi heat! Your friends call him a bitch, you turn around and don't care, cause a smoke is keeping you warm and 10 minutes to go for an exam, I know you will lose your hair because of so much ironing (haha, credit : Sanya) we, love our curly days, and straight days, and good days and bad. Because you are thin, you are not fuckin pretty! Because you wear leg warmers, you look STUPID, you will spend life in front of the mirror, when we will have so much worthwhile, you will have botox and super loads of Estee Lauder, whereas we had apples and we ran to fuckin feel we have feet ! Your eyes will be mascara and kajal and that oh, what do you call it, the shade thing, Ours... will have stories to tell ! and when you lose it all, cause you'll just be a 40 year old, trying to compete with your own 18 year old girl, we will be making huge money, cause we had the brains. And then of course, I will tell you such is life. At least I didn't get fucked by every man coming my way for cheap thrills, and oh that mastercard bought love!

Small things, events, actions, thoughts, can just lead to so much more, or are coming from so much. Over analyzing and all that jazz? Hell, NO! ... Such is life!

A little complex

Duality- equations, understandings, answers and existence everything is effected by it. If not by it then by multiplicity. So what remains is uncertain in certain terms or shall we look into it as if it is certain in uncertain terms. But, there is nothing new in this "rant", we all know this. So why does it exist?? If we know for certain that duality is there then it is not there because then there is no uncertainty.
Thinking about it.... isn't it that we intuitively understand that every event has a cause and itself causes something. Then why is that we are uncertain. Simple reason is that inertia of thought that suspends interpreting the effect of a cause until the effect is already there.
This "rant" is an example of every fallacy or observation that it itself talks of.


My choice is what I choose to do and if I'm causing no harm it shouldn't bother you;
Your choice is who you choose to be and if your causin' no harm then you're alright with me - Ben Harper

I , Me , Mine

I have my feet up on the dashboard as you drive down the expressway. The Beatles are singing on the radio and the sun is slowly setting in the clear, vast sky. You look
amazing in your aviator sunglasses and plain white tee. The one I remember waking up in last Friday. You have your arm out the window and the wind is running through your short cut mocha hair.

You smile as I sing along with George Harrison and chuckle when I sing off key. Sitting in my lap is a notebook. My sketchbook actually. You hate it when I draw you. But I couldn’t help it when I saw how inspiring you looked as we left the city limits. :)

Now I have my feet up on the dashboard of your Corvette, and I’m sketching your arm gently rested on the steering wheel. I smile thinking to myself that you have no idea I’m doing this. I look my window every so often pretending I’m drawling the mountains. You won’t have any idea. You won’t because I don’t look at you as much as I want to.

You told me this morning that we should take a road trip. When I asked where you said anywhere. For a second I looked at you as I laid in our bed. But then I just nodded my head and smiled. Because I’ll follow you anywhere.

You just stopped and got me icecream, and I know you hate sharing yours but I still threw mine out the window. You tell me you wont give me yours, and I turn and look away , like I always do.
Then suddenly, you grab my hand tight ; like you'd never let me go, and ask if I want a bite. I look up from my sketchbook at your puppy dog eyes I sigh and nod my head.

That was then.
Today you want your own time, I asked you if you were mine, and you couldn't help but grin.
I took my second last attempt to make you better, you snapped.
I took my last to sing for you, because Its that one thing I'm the most shy to do; and you kill that last one too.

But then No-one's frightened of playing it, and everyone's saying it.

"Kehne ki baat hai ki wo paraaye hain...

dil toh unke siva kisi ko apna maanta hi nahi "


The world seems to be getting smaller, and no definitely not closer!
There is so much I still haven't seen, not read, not heard. Perhaps there is no end to it; maybe the easier way out was to reach back to the shores; well no not me, told you I am the lioness! :D


They say broken hearts write the best poetry; and write it best all their lives! For that purpose, Im ready to get mine broken beyond repair; and further down :)

Not Fire

..No
Not ice.. ;)


Will write the rest tonight, ouch! hehe

Jalal ad-Din Rumi

Ouch! And Shahram Shiva's translated work makes me want to forget everything else and read. And read. And read, till the mind cant absorb more, and then add a ting of that black toxic cup of bean and water which laces the mind with a line of intoxication, and read through the night!
Uhmmm, yes its too much 'love' and gets on the nerves, but then thats when the audios work!

“When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.

Praise God for those two insomnias!
And the difference between them.”
- Rumi

" If I were any braver...

...I'd be a lioness...
And You look cuter than Rishi Kapoor! Sachheee! :) "

I've just come back from a silent , live music assisted dinner followed by an even silent visit to the Bangla Sahib and I'm sitting in my corner having my last bite of the weekend Blueberry Cheese Cake! My culinary skills are getting better by the day ;)

Coming to the point, the back of my mind didn't miss what I wasn't doing, (which happens very rare) perhaps that's why I am already drowsy for a peaceful night's sleep. and its just 11:40!
Everything needs a closure, sometimes it is said out loud, more often in case of people a time or place is reached where , saying/not saying , howling , crying , anything and everything in fact doesn't make any difference whatsoever.
Ruchir says I am a stone, well maybe I am. and I love being one, but to think of it; if I really was a stone, I wouldn't be thinking of things like these and those and so much more! Its a curse maybe.
They have all changed a lot is how I've been putting it since the past few months and I've been blaming so many people, just because they have all found other people, their own someone to spend a lot of time with, and that is no doubts making me very uncomfortable and lonely. How it is seen is that since I am not "dating" someone or in a "relationship" is why I am cynical and unsupportive, lol.
Hell !


Saw too many documentaries on Indira Gandhi today, as well as that 32 grand Chanel wallet, now this is what I call getting inspired to earn it! :D


"Aise toh na dekho,
ki humko nasha ho jaaye "

Of Poker Buddies and a Reality Check!

Whom do you write for?
..uhmm.. Noone!

No, but then there are times, there are those conversations and then there are times there is a "you" ?
Ah, yes some are true, exactly copied from my mind or texts, but the "you" that is because I love talking to the wall.

What, are you nuts?
No, humans are, their tiny peanut brain doesn't give justice to my words.

So, this is typical, and even I have wondered a lot, why ? And who do I write for, things which mean so much , imaginary events which haven't yet taken place (but will) in a way that I feel I have lived it, Deja Vu? Like a pre - Deja Vu that would be!
For starters, damn!I trouble myself more than any person could do so, sometimes I think I am troubled, every person my age perhaps is, so its no bigger or lesser a deal than PMS-ing. But am I really made for the things I think I am?
Who on earth would depend on the laziest most unorganized, sleep deprived , coffee addict for even a Petition Draft?
A certain poker buddy keeps mentioning I am drifting, and " Dude? Do you even want to be a lawyer"
Lol, Age bar and all that jazz, and all I can do is smile, it takes alot for people to remain the same at every point of time. It's just not possible perhaps, when they are new, they have so much to talk so much to share, there's a spark perhaps; and that faids eventually. Because of expectations , indifference and then the whole -pricey- non pricey- deal. ( Yes I thought that was when we were 15, but Sameer is right; yet again!) So, the best thing to do when that person doesn't make you happy enough? Stop trying, let them try if they want to ; or its not worth it.
I surprise myself a bit too often, I thought that time of even thinking about expectations and how it ruins beautiful things is way behind me.
"Only you can solve your own problems"
Yah damn right, I can. For the better part of my life - cheers! ( a coffee shot! ;)
''People are good to you till the time you don't expect anything out of them, and they become bad the moment you do''
How true that is, nobody could teach me better! :)
Yes this expectation thing is a new issue, primarily because I thought convenience was the most important one, as a matter of fact it still is, along with priorities and then the thing called mutual attraction? No its not just about relationships, its about so much more, uh well...maybe not. Blah!
But aren't relationships important? (now this is sounding like one of those sob-posts. *sigh*) yes, well they are important, but ONLY till one feels important in them - and that is a bitchy thing to say?
See, I fear judgment as well. I fear niceness; it doesn't stay long enough; I fear people; they lie.
I fear myself the most ; for what they've made of me, and eventually will.

Yes, I had imagined a few perfect things, but then things which are unreal; will always be unreal. Yes, its more powerful than the real; because nothing is as perfect as imagined. The unreal -lasts. The rest - they crumble, or die.

Its funny, these are school issues! or issues with people who can't go up and talk to other people confidently, and fake all the time. Issues such as gossip, and college politics and that damn dear friend acting all non existent and coming up and saying " I am not your friend" .
This is surprise part II. I never cared to even look back and think. People become cold and cynical with certain events in life and the lack of some other; but someone who always was like that, becomes even colder?
And it was never important to be happy, human life is just entitled to be this way; accepting and trying to pursuit happiness. Perhaps, the pursuit is dying in this cold.
Sometimes, certain things don't deserve the credit to be a part of the past, not a word wrong said, not a thing wrong done, except for that wrong feeling you shared. When you get over your guilt, I am 10 digits away !


"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man." - Mark Twain


Current favorite song - Mad World - Gary Jules :)

Baaahh!

There would have been so many insignificant tears I wouldn't have shed, so many things not known, so many things not felt, stayed in the dark about so many, never felt betrayed by so many, saved so much time, slept early perhaps, not been jealous , not felt things are missing, not wanted to do things, go to places, eat those things, wear those clothes, seen the smiling faces and felt like puking; so many arguments without a reason, a few people never met, a few stories untold, an ego hike on default or edited potraits and the shallow "muahs" and "<3" not received.
see those pictures and bursted out; crying, laughing, disgusted, cheated.

If only there was no Facebook.
Ah, what a denial that would have been.

So the culprit is insomnia

Why?
Simply because not being hopeful gives a net to the fall, doesn't really stop the fall.

Why *again* ?
Because it's a tendency people have, the same kind of trouble attracts a person again and again and again.

Why the introspection ?
It gives alot of momentary humor if nothing else ;)


If this sleep issue could be solved, so much would be out of my life, so many unnecessary people, conversations, thoughts, etc etc etc !

Oh and lesser phone bills, lesser calorie intake (comfort foods are fattening !! ) and I can't believe I actually included that last bit about the fattening thing, finally the treadmill's getting its due :)


This Gurbaksh Chahal guy is HAWT!


Thank you myself for making me non-hopeful about everything.



And why do stars fall ?
So , we make wishes and an idiot of ourselves.

10 in 95

Found :)

It was just there, being ignored and abused for years altogether in the name of greed and convenience and needs.
Wonder what took me so long, but finally ... :)

There is still a long long way to go, the damage is too much to be sorted by just a thought, actions ; yeah !
Why did you take so long ?
Running , not away but to you !
Cheers ! For the better part of your existence !


This song is stuck.

"Jaata kya tera hai , manga jo mera hai;
maine konsi tujhse jannat maangli "


And then all I want tonight is a falling star to make a wish! :)

Immaculate

My throat is tight from the
Snickering cold wind that waltzes
around us
In spite, we push against its
Wingtipped shoes and cherry blossom corsages
freckled grass and tan oak trees are humming along
to this icy orchestration
Are we the only ones who hear the syncopation
of a thousand curling cumuli
or a million bursting moons?
This deafening lull is what binds our
quivering legs and willowed arms to these silent screams


...We cry


And yet only I...

Damien Rice will sing for us every night !

One day, I will run away. Seems quite fancy to say so. Like the kinds, oh I am going to run away and live in peace, cause the world never treated me right, and "they" never understood me, cause I was so ahead of my times/or I should have been 16 when Sanjay and Maneka eloped.
Ya quite alot on these lines, cause then atleast I never wanted the conventionals !

So when one turns twenty, rather regretfully because of those small little unfulfilled wishes,the year ahead starts getting frustrating. And, no I don't believe in content and self happiness and jazz, if you do ; go read Shiv Khera, here it is different story altogether.
Getting back to the fascination with running away, it doesn't necessarily have to be 'alone' Infact, it doesn't have to be alone at all. It has to be with him. For which the search can never end, considering how Sethi put it last night, I have weird 'fundas' ; aisa hoga toh aisa hona chahiye and waise hoga toh ye karna padega and the never ending permutation combinations.
Well, sadly enough, this happens to be very true. Too many fundas, the downside of this is that those combinations cannot exist in a single person ; hence the innumerable heartbreaks . Ouch! The brighter side ; put them all together, and voila; even Megan Fox would die to be at my place ! ;)
Now yes, every single person has a well crafted image of their real one in their minds. Pulkit has his Simran, and I have my Raj too (though the name could be changed for a stronger one) oh and the hairstyle too, and the lack of ambition too, but yes we can keep the madness. So the madness of Raj , the flamboyance to be able to carry those Nehru jackets and cufflinks which would make every man burn , red ties ! (thats like a must ) , doesn't have to be too goodlooking or too tall or too fair or too dark, but one look should make me go weak on my knees !
No sense oh humour? Chalega; but his smile should make me look good !
I mean I really don't need a laughter dose or too much of it, my own is disastrous and dose enough for me!
Yes, I have mentioned about the bolero and the jaat boys, and the typical ladne-marne type attitude; time and again, without which ; it would be totally impossible.
Has to be older than me, again that needs no mention, haha. How else are we going to elope midway of my law degree ;)
Oh and the cufflinks, yes they have been mentioned, the super eatable sweat and perfume mixed smell which give tingles to the senses,should buy me flowers even when I insist they are a waste of money, oh and click my pictures when I am with him, more when he thinks I don't know; and I know he thinks so , but I still pretend that he thinks I don't know I am being clicked, wooo! the list is never ending.

I told him once I was waiting for December, hot coffee and full throttling music in our car; and December never came for us.

Bloody, that's another downside, these plans need to be harmoniously construed with somebody elses. ( Harmoniously construed : New word, courtesy attentive listening in Constitution law class )

Yes there are a series of heartbreaks, damn these combinations, damn the digits will be forgotten now, it could never reach 'us' so they will be forgotten soon too.

How I thank myself for not being hopeful, and for that little cynic in me;
" Dude! no matter what, no matter how good a person is, a man is honest till he gets an opportunity to be otherwise"
Damn you Anoopam, the according-to-you dhaba place, is one of my favorites and makes me say best things I ever have ! :)

Yes, I would base it just on the concept of us, dependability and acceptance. But for the part of life I know, for sure Its too much to ask for, the custom made Raj (yeah I know, I have to think of a better name) will do good.
How much it makes me happy that I know for a fact relationships end.

What? I am cynical? Why! Thank you ever much,atleast I am not a dumb fuck retard.



"There is something in the way you look at me,
Its as if my heart knows, you are the missing piece "

Three Kings

What's the most important thing in life?
Respect.
Too dependent on other people.

What, love?
A little Disneyland, isn't it?

God's will?
Close.

What is it then?
Necessity.

As in?
As in people do what is most necessary to them at any given moment.

Temporary

This is one of those days when the mind just doesn't work. Yeah. MY MIND just doesn't work. Has to be a big deal .. right?
Courtesy - a head spin which is perhaps faster than the fastest rotating wheel, I don't know which one is it, cant find it either -despite the new improvisation on research skills at work.
Sitting here at my desk ( yeah it sounds fancy, but not as fancy as it can be ) when I see the city below me, and those tall buildings across the road, suddenly passing through the tiny cars and the even tynier humans ; the world seems a distant reality.
This is one thing about work which gives me the most joy perhaps, the disconnect. Nothing has ever felt or can feel better, than a high which is generated by just constant work!
coming back to the head spin, apart from the fact its killing my tolerance to pain; the nerves can be felt now, the words spoken are generating a kind of vibration which the cheeks can sense. Like a hot iron rod is being passed through the veins it is flowing through my face into the head. This much and more, is how much the head hurts.

These are times when one feels ... dizzy? But I m here, on the 7th floor. Looking through the window from one eye, being vigilant about not being noticed on blogger with the other, while it still balances the fact that I dont type wrong. Ha! My fingers are behaving good though, well tamed as they are on the keyboard. :)

They are making a metro line ; connecting delhi and NCR. WOnder how it will be then, this window will show the metro and that speed will be much better than the buses and cars and their reflection on the glass of one of those tall DLF towers.

They don't realize. They never will. Even I haven't infact till now,will I?

But its all temporary, most of it, everything in fact;
can I call it Temporary Death?

I envy you!

Today the moon looks beautiful; its not always that I appreciate nature and natural things per se, like the flowers or mountains or the moon. But today ; it just IS beautiful. Not like the oh-you are so pretty -beautiful. But the oh- you're so beautiful that I don't wanna keep looking at you, or else tomorrow I'll miss you much!

That spark I had; is getting lost; somewhere in between people, pretense, people, arrogance, spite, anger and myself.

I wish I could drive to the moon tonight.

Your Skin

The cool breeze sifts through my limbs, slipping and sliding through unexplored parts. For a moment the rest of the world slips away, scrubbed clean and absolved by the waves. I’d like to dive into that ocean, feel the water crash down on me, suppress me, remind me that I’m not the only thing that matters. But I can’t. Not now. Not yet. I should be here when you wake up, because that was the one sincere promise I made you.

I don’t even want to try leaving right now – not when it was you who looked at me in that way that taught me what it was to feel the ground beneath my feet disappear. Tiny rivulets of water slither down your temple, and I’m tempted to brush them away. I hold back, remembering what you told me:
“The one you mark is the one you keep.” And I don’t want to mark you because I’m not sure if I’ll keep you. I’m not sure if I’ll keep you, and I’m even less sure about whether you’d survive it. Maybe it’s because I know you feel me slipping away despite your clutching, like the grains of sand you held so tightly in your palm not two hours ago. Or was it years? It doesn’t matter.

The past has passed, and what’s left of it except a few recollections that’ll be buried beneath a surface of newer memories? Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and you’ll wake believing that the past is the segue to our future. Oh, what I wouldn’t give so that you’d wake to think about your next encounter instead. A part of me – the part that wishes this would never end – wants to convince me that I should stay, because you’re too bruised and too vulnerable and too fragile to do this on your own. The part of me that knows it’ll just be later rather than sooner overpowers the other.

The sand shifts slightly and, without looking, I know you’re reaching out for me. I bite down on my tongue gently, forcibly swallowing a groan of frustration. Against my better judgment, I offer you my hand and feel yours slip into it, entwining and tangling. Your hand is as familiar to me as my own, the leathery feel of your skin and long-dried salt strangely comforting. How could it not be, when I can recount thousands of paths traced upon the lines of my face with the wandering pads of your thumbs? Every trail embedded on your palm tells of every secret meeting we’ve had, all testaments to our fairy-tale story.

Fleetingly, I wonder if I’ll have the courage to stay when the silvery tones are replaced by glowing warmth. Then you stir again and it’s not hard for me to remember why I can’t stay within fields of golden scenery and humid, still air.

You exhale and I inhale. The moon is bright, illuminating the sky and shining like a large quarter in the expanse of navy blue above us. I tilt my head and glance at you, carelessly sprawled out. Surely you wouldn’t be so nonchalant if you knew. Your sunset skin and long limbs make me think of our summer, brightness and oceans bursting behind my eyelids. Your face is all angles and planes, like a high school geometry lesson. You’re squirming again, and I know that it’ll be only a matter of minutes before you wake.

“You’re leaving?” Your voice is rough with sleep, but somehow it’s still like warm molasses.

“Well, you’re awake now,” I say neutrally. It’s not a direct answer, and I know you hate it.

Your hand slips from mine and you rub your eyes, so blue they put the spring sky to shame. “Are we ever going to talk?”

“There’s nothing to say.” I shrug and promptly wince, remembering why I hate the sun. My shoulders are red and achy, sensitive even against the thin fabric of my shirt.

“Okay.” You nod slowly. “Okay.” We’re quiet for a few moments before you reach out and brush a strand of hair from my face. I know there’s more to this. “Things get lost without anyone noticing on the way, you know.” Your tone is quiet. Not angry. Not sad. Quiet.

“We’re a mistake we knew we were making,” I reply. “Four weeks isn’t enough to make something real. It’s not like we could have had forever.”

“Love that’s real doesn’t need to have forever,” you say, just as quietly.

I contemplate my words carefully. In the end, honesty wins over tact.
“This isn’t real.”

It takes another long, steady moment before you decide to speak again. When you do, I sigh with weariness.

“You were the loneliest place I’ve ever been in.”

“And you thought you could fix that?”

“I wish I could have.”

We are both looking up at the sky, wondering why the stars aren’t out. Maybe they’re hiding behind a veil of thin clouds. Your arm is barely brushing mine, almost inconceivably. I think of how many times I pictured this moment, this ending point. It’s nothing like the dramatic scene in my mind. It’s almost as if the strings connecting us had been snapping one by one, softening the final blow.

I’ll miss you, your broad smile and loud laughter. I can close my eyes and almost picture you strumming random notes on your guitar. I’ll miss the days we spent on the dock, playing that stupid game where we name the passing boats. I’ll miss your black leather jacket that always smelled of humid afternoons and sunshine. I'll miss the way you moan about how much your feet hurts after a long day. I'll miss your voice. I’ll miss the birthmark right below your left shoulder blade, the one shaped like Italy. I’ll miss your camera. I'll miss your phone. I'll miss your clothes. I’ll miss your room. I’ll miss your car.
I'll miss your skin.
I'll miss you.

Somehow, despite all of this, I still say, “See you around.”

Ripples

He sat on the corner of the pond and threw stones in it. He saw the ripples; it was giving him a surreal pleasure. It was making him feel 'something' of this I am sure, but what? I shall never have the courage to ask.



He just sat outside and saw her fall apart; just like those ripples in the pond.

Happiness

"Maybe happIness is something that we can only pursue. And maybe we can actually never have it no matter what."


This stayed with me after watching the Will Smith classic, but I believe in this now ; more than ever and always will. Oh and at this moment ;
I feel happy.

Hope

...is important.
You always said that.

Keep the faith, is what you said ; right?

oh and
"I'll fight against destiny and win"



But what when one just can't do it anymore? What then?
What when one complete outdoes his own self, and another step doesn't seem like 'just' a step but as burdened as hell. Then what?

Why didn't you tell me what to do when one loses hope in faith.

Bring that hope back? Believe in yourself , life is a struggle, happiness is just a pursue blah blah blah and all the jazz?
Till when?

Of Masks and an Evil Twin.

I don't know about you but I think when we are happy or sad you are everything jealous, spiteful, depressed, eccentric, and so on.

I believe everyone has more than one face, but I can't speak for everyone only myself.

I feel I passed though my 18 years as a wallpaper flower. Seen, but unnoticed at the same time.

At home at college. I see wrong I know right, but as a wallpaper flower you would lack the courage, spirit, and heart to correct it.

I can't look in the mirror
Because when I do I see an enclosed, spiteful, hateful, and envious girl.

Enclosed I hide the truth I bear the lies. You make me laugh you think you know me? Do you know I hate you? Do you know I fear you? Do you know that I would give up everything to be you and yet you whine on the most ridiculous things, you naive fool.

Spiteful spiting any love that comes my way.Everything looks fake
so don't give me your I love you's or you friendly hugs because it makes me tremble it makes me weep. I can no longer accept love. I fear love because I don't understand it, what is this four-letter word?

Hateful hating myself for the lack of courage to fight for what I want, what is right, and what is needed when it is right in front of my face. All the forced back words and swallowed tears I begin to hate it all.

Envious jealous of everyone who seems to have real happiness but like I would be able to recognize that.

When you see me you will know why I am the wallpaper flower. I am not Emo, gothic, or running around mourning for the world. I smile, I laugh, I play, I live. My perfect cover.

Fragile as glass.
All I have is hope and dreams
but I know it is only my refuge in the night in my slumber
I live the way I want to without you.


I fear of being alone and even though I hate you please don't leave me.

I miss you.

I want to pick up a pen and paper, no not pen; a pencil. So, I want to pick up a pencil and write what I want my life to be some years hence, and achieve it by hook or crook.
And I want to pick up an eraser and erase every moment I shared with people who left with unsaid words. They never deserved so much of me. I am angry and extremely extremely ... void.
Human beings just use each other.
Emotionally. Physically. And when their work is done, they move ahead.
And I forgive them. Because I call them victims of circumstances; But my forgiveness ain't gonna be so easy now on.


Yes, you said it right my dear prospective Chief Minister , " People who have ambitions do not get effected by emotions"
No, I will not give up on compassion. No, I am not begging for stability in life.

I'm very very angry with myself and them.
I'm scared. Of life. Of people.
I'm scarred.
I'm a hopeless dreamer.
I'm void.
I'm not feeling right.
I'm just a little ashamed to be all of this. This is not what I want to feel.

I'm miss you Shivani. Badly. Please come back wherever you are. Please.


Too much usage of 'I' because its MY life. And I am the most important person in my life.

MY Shoes

If this is how it has to be; this is how it will be.



I was quite a weird kid.I had a habit of losing stuff. I was indeed one of those completely careless ones, I used to take my dad to buy me new pencils every weekend ; the fanciest ones there, purposely leave my water bottles and tiffin box in school to be able to demand for a new one, drop things out of my balcony with the intention of not wanting to see them ever the list can be endless. Whenever it happened due to my own fault , I rarely showed any guilt . I just ordered for a new one. As if it was my right to get the exact same thing back again. Though I never played with dolls, I had one with blue eyes, if not less I made my parents buy the same doll 7-8 times over a span of maybe a year and a half, everytime I saw any single defect in them I wanted a brand new one. ( And No, even if it seems like I wasn't one of those spoilt kids :P , my parents were the extremely strict ones, maybe just my mother. Papa could be manipulated by tantrums and tears, daughters have that advantage )
However this isn't the real story.

When I was 7 or 8. We used to have Yoga class in school twice a week. We used to leave our shoes in the classroom and go to the Yoga room in the basement. One of those days, I just carelessly opened my shoes , as usual ; without placing them under my chair. When we returned after class, my shoes weren't in place. In fact they were nowhere to be found. The first thing I did was ( No I didn't cry) I went to the classteacher, then to the lost and found. Just about everywhere, frantically looking for my shoes. Which was infact rather surprising for them, because it wasn't the first time that I had lost something. A month back I had lost my shoes and I happily walked back home with just my socks on. ( Yes because that time I wanted new shoes , my old ones were...well ...old? ) I started checking everyone's shoes.
Size 5.
Now there is a thing all of us have, the eye to recognize something you own, even if 50 other people have the exact same thing.

She was wearing them. I don't know why. Maybe she left her's in the basement and couldn't find them and wore whatever was in class. Maybe I was too careless with mine and she thought they were hers. But the fact remains that She was wearing MY shoes.
The fighter cock I was, I asked her to open them. That they were mine and she had no right to wear them. That I can see a certain part of the shoe lace out and the left shoe has a thread off at the end and that inside them the 5 is slightly faint from the place I remember seeing in the morning while wearing them, explaining myself thats its time I got a new one maybe.
But she refused. She said they were hers. Her mother was a teacher in school, she got all the more benefit. I was taken to the lost and found room, and there was a size 5 shoe which I was forced to wear. I did so, but for me, at that time, that day seemed the saddest day of my life. How could someone else claim on MY shoes. And just because her mother was a teacher and they knew I have a habit of being careless, it was conclusive that I am the one mistaken again?
I went back home crying. I wasn't the kind of kid who went back home and cried about bad days and bullies. I went back home happy, so it was indeed a shock for my mom.
I was sad all day. They offered me new shoes. I refused. I wanted my old ones back. They were mine, not hers. But I knew what I had to do.
Next day, we had Yoga class I again. When they left, I put the shoes I got from the lost and found under her chair with a note inside it and took mine back.
Felt amazing. It still does when I think about it.
The note said " Nobody can take away anything which is mine. I've taken it back"
(which was followed by a little drama, but I got to keep what was mine)


Though things have changed now. Considerably.
I still hate it when something owned by me gets claims from other people. Whether or not the current possession is still with me is immaterial.
I lost it. However my reaction to was quite contradictory to what I really I am. When I like something , I don't like it that others like it too. No its not being jealous, yes It's insecurity, not because my position as the owner decreases, but because when they came and claimed it after I lost it, they did it with too much confidence. It wasn't as if I couldn't ever find it back and claim it but I didn't want them to know that I once I had it and I lost it. I knew they just wanted sheer pleasure out of my misery by asking me whatever they did ;

All I said was, "No that wasn't mine ever".

Keep it.

Life is not Unfair

... People are.

Really?

It's not always hard to be a fan, of course; when you're a little kid it's the easiest thing in the world. At a point in your life when you pretty much can't do anything - as adults will hasten to remind you, saying things like " you can't drive a car until you're older," or, "human beings can't see through walls, no matter how hard they look at them," - Superman can do absolutely anything and everything. (Actually, I've seen Superman drive a car. And I bet noone can do it better than him)And the things he can do are of particular interest, it's fair to say, to little kids. For example: when was the last time you really wanted to set something on fire by just looking at it? Or really, really wished you could fly? Not "boy, wouldn't it be great if I got a surprise upgrade to business class" fly, or "maybe I can use my frequent flyer miles to score a trip to a friend" fly, but just, you know, fly. Probably not as recently - and certainly not as devoutly - as any five-year-old boy you know.

Superman is also just plain good, and when you're still at an age when things come in lots of simple good and bad categories, he fits pretty easily into that sort of framework. Think about the movies in both of them ; where much is made of Superman never lying. When you're at an age when you're looking for moral absolutes to admire, Superman's way up there, up in the sky.

But things change; seasons pass, and tender youth gives way to bitter experience. and all the things about Superman that were so admirable then become, well, a little grating. Everything is - or at least feels - much more complicated, and the simplicity of Superman's moral code seems a bit like kid stuff at a time when it's much harder to figure out right from wrong. And Superman himself? Polite, well-behaved, always getting along with the authorities? Not particularly cool, at a time when cool matters a lot; other heroes take center stage, ones that are a little more...rock and roll.


And now, in adulthood?
I'll be honest: even though it's been some time since I've been a teenager, I still love the idea of Superman if not him.

Ever since I can go back in time, I have had my heroes. People I have looked upto. People who inspire and not make me negotiate. People who have battled with the odds, taken the lone path and succeeded, in more ways than one. Hero-worshipping has been an inherent part of me I guess, extraordinaries don't happen to people everyday nor have they to me; the very few who have made the difference have become MY heroes. Thus explaining my obsession with Superman. (I call it pure faith).

But they have also made my worst fears come true, that the closer you get to a person ; the more you know about them, something will let you down. Knowingly , unknowingly or due to my elevated expectations, they have let me down and left me dejected, taken away my hopes , my faith.


I thought the worst thing to do is to let down your hero , but even worst is getting your heart broken by one. Someone who meant perfect in the dictionary of human beings , up there in your eyes, the heart aches to bring em down and the mind says maybe they never deserved that place.

I can ridicule everything by saying I make the wrong choice every time or that it was me who decided to give them that place in life and its completely fair if I decide to take it back. But then where does my hope in faith go? Shattered into a million pieces? Because they couldn't carry the burden of being a Hero or it'ws too juvenile and frivilous of me to expect so?

I want to go back and read " Why the World Needs Superman" But a certain part of me is way too angry and way too let down to confirm the faith again.

There are many unspoken realities that we dismiss all because we are too chicken to deal with it.But,does fantasy take over?More often than not,its just reality that strikes back at us harder than ever.
Life can't always be a bed of roses and I embrace that.
It's alright to dream,but just make sure that you're not living in a dream.That's what matters I guess.



Maybe in this real world, there are no real heroes; just a desperate need to believe in one.



"Does the World Need a Superman?"


I don't know.

Dethroned

It is lonely. Ironic, however, they wouldn't notice. They, with their complaints of starvation, devastation; they, mired in the fear of imminent extinction, shouldering the burden of sin; they, looking skyward for His guidance and shuddering at the merest thought of His presence.

But they seek comfort in each other's gaze, catching joy (however fleeting it may be) on the waves of their speech, fulfillment etched in company.

Below, the day has been long, made longer with the reluctant dimming of the afternoon, fading into evening. And as the night glimmers, He settles back, wearily, to rest.

The air chokes, humid - heavy with expectations. It's the end of another disappointment.

And He watches.

None of it's turned out, really, as He had planned.

He sees them now as they hurry, tracing paths that swirl and loop, twirling until their frantic activity blurs. Their orb glows, and He is mesmerized for the brevity of a butterfly's flutter. Enamored with their own glassy evanescence, they build towering monuments of metal, sculpting the majestic peaks and valleys of bridges, moving earth. Rivers flow under their direction, cutting and sharp; they design pictures to represent landscapes, images to replace strokes of art.

They won't remember Him for another few hours, He knows, and He wonders momentarily if they ever really remember Him at all.

They clutch trinkets, bejeweled and sparkling. Lovely. But trinkets do not build castles, cannot imitate fate.

It's not enough, now, to hope.

He sees the reflection from a woman's mirror, her vacant expression flickering, then vanishing. Vaguely, He hears the shrill shriek of a siren, desperate.

It wasn't always like this, He thinks. Before, back when He longed to coexist with His created universe, meshing mortal and eternal, when He wished to be the light of harmony - He foolishly imagined they would listen.

It hardly matters now, though, that He set out to do good, that He envisioned companions to brighten His empty existence. These companions clung to each other instead, and isolation found Him again, gaping and harsh. Nor is there any significance in the sapphire sphere He sees before him, pulsating with the life He birthed - it is no more His than it is its own, no more rare or beautiful than just another tainted perfection, torn carelessly, then haphazardly stitched back into existence.

He is all too familiar with sacrifice, knows far too well the taste of loss. And He laughs bitterly, for even He can no longer recognize the warped illusion that was once His passion, for even He has lost sight of its once-brilliant splendor.

He dares not admit they frighten him.

But they have their civilizations, complexities woven and tangled, mistakes. They have each other, but their brothers are enemies and they construct walls of mistrust, only to tear them down in fits of rage that He cannot comprehend. Justice, potent when laced with the shadows of greed, is far too powerful a temptation, and they cannot defy it - they do not try to resist.

They slaughter for pride, savoring a short-lived vengeance.

He doesn't understand.

He sees hunger written in their strained interactions, pleas for compassion. Empathy.

A girl lies under her covers, strands of hair visible around a pillow, breathing unevenly. He watches, and He knows she is broken.

In the darkness, they're weak.

They look up to Him, now, eyes gleaming, whispering a prayer before retiring - hope resting on an unshakable faith. He watches, and He sees their blindness. In the clarity, they are no more than children - bereft, searching. And just as He did, they ask for answers.

They, who can now control survival, treating life as a craft to bend to their every whim; they, who overlooked caution to pursue glory; they, who saw the end of His hopes - they are lonely.

But He can no longer call them His, and - no - He doesn't know how to help. He is lost as well, grasping, confused and despairing.

He watches the trembling of a little boy's eyelids in slumber, and He knows nothing.

In the stillness, He watches them.

Their flaws are His flaws, their errors traceable back to His hands. They are neither perfection nor harmony, but neither is He.

And there is hope etched in company.

What a semester of Law School taught me

Took my last exam for this semester, doesn't clearly mean I have "completed" it ; well of course till my result isn't out. But while going for the exam in the morning I just asked myself one thing. In between the projects and internals and meeting new people, and selective study. ( Something which has bailed me out of trouble all my life) did I really learn anything? Can I confidently say that I have covered 10% of what my curriculum requires my to know of the 10 Semester course? I don't know, the real test cannot be any exam, not for me. But there surely is a huge list of the things I learn't.

.)There is no time for postponing anything here, one thing ends and the other starts; If one starts procrastinating, then by the end of the semester; life will seem hell.

.)A good impression on the teachers can ensure that one passes in the exams, primarily because the 25-75 division of internal and external marks gives them the authority to turn your life upside down, in more ways than one.

.)Inside college do whatever you want to do, talk to whoever you want; but make sure only YOU know who you talk to and what and how much.

.)Going to the "maggi point" during that half an hour break is uselss, the slow walk and the run back to class within half an hour makes a person tired for the after lunch class.

.) Holidays is a concept or word atleast IP University isn't very aware of.

.)Notes do not help during exams, nor do those people (friends) who have those notes. Books and Wikipedia come more handy, reliable, convenient and of course, dependable.

.)"Man is solitary , poor, nasty , brutish and short " - Thomas Hobbes
(Hell yes! I agree. I call it cause and effect.)

.)The three reasons for a person committing suicide are - If he is an egotist , altruist or due to socio-economic conditions " - Emile Durkheim
( Oh really? :P )


.)According to Section 30 of the Indian Contracts Act, An agreement to wagering is void.
Still it is interesting to note that Horse Racing isn't considered wagering and is excluded from this provision.
Also, State Lotteries are not criminalized, however if a person does win a state lottery he cannot put a legal claim for it , because lottery by means of wagering is a void agreement.


.)Political Theory is cleaner than practical politics.

.)Mahatma Gandhi's contribution to the freedom struggle has been overrated.

.)The concept of just a government and a just government was given and forgotten.

.) " An eye for an eye, a limb for a limb, a life for a life " - Sharia, the Muslim source of Law.
(Explains alot of things, *shrug* )



And lastly, most of the things I learnt in these five months , will probably never be required in any courtroom battle. Has it made me wiser than the rest?
Time will tell.

Erased

I am
Erased.
My image
A faint working
Of sketch marks
Across azure-lined pages.

I am
Replaced.
My memory,
A faint lineage
In the traces
Of a time once known.

I am
Myth.
My history
Is merely the existence
Of the stories I tell
To make believe I exist.

Har kisiko mukkamal jahan nahi milta kisi ko zameen milti hai ; to kisi ko aasmaa nahi milta

"When it comes to practicality, things don't work this way.
I can either follow my dreams or make money, the other part of my life anyway sucks "


I have unwillingly been carried away.
Where everything is and must
be defined, refined, and redefined.

Where living your dreams is stupidity.
Where reality in unreal.
Where truth is just a 'never-heard-about' concept.
Where right & wrong is always debated in the mind.
Where I just feel I'm STUPID.


Despite my efforts to avoid assimilation,

I, too, scream mindlessly at eternal traffic.

I, regrettably, am in a fruitless rush

when there are hours or days to spare.
I think of the clear other side,

open-ended and unexpected like cancer.



I want to find my way.




The internal struggle is still on, with people around and inside, I want you to live your dreams, I want you to forget practicality , forget every reason that holds you back and live the way you always wanted to.I don't know if I am Learning the concept of selflessness or trying hard not be a bitch in the bargain? All I know is, It's not easy to be you, and its not easy to be me either.

Nerves of steel
Wills of iron
and a

Chocolate pudding heart, which does all the damage!


youn to koi tanha nahi hota,
chaah kar bhi koi juda nahi hota,
mohabbat ko to majbooriyan hi le doobti hai,
warna khushi se koi bewafa nahi hota!!

Green Eyes

So you have all said a word or two about it, how it should be , how it shouldn't . The conventional and unconventional, the real and fake, the practical and impractical.
I say you are all losers, YES! Fucking nuthead morons of the highest order.

You think you are being protective, warning me against it, am I going in a deep ocean without knowing how to swim? How the fuck do you know I am gonna drown for sure?
Protective eh?
I say ; be brave , have the courage!

You think I am a kid, I don't know how this dirty mean world works, I live in a parallel world, do I? Hell yes there is a parallel world, far much dangerous, far much adventurous, far much unexpected than you can think of! If here you think I can't survive, there I am living, with courage and compassion, outreaching any one who claims to be real.

I am just being myself, is that a problem for u motherfuckers?
I believe I am better than most of you all, is that again a problem?
I know I will prove my worth to myself.
I know this very feeling of being someone better makes me feel shallow inside, I have been taught to be humble, "down to earth", but I'm not.
I have nothing to lose to you all you cowards, I will lose myself only to him; in every sense of the word.
Does this burn your heart? You feel better when you point out my flaws,gives you a feeling that your life's better, doesn't it?
And when you say it to others, it makes you better in comparison to me! I know you all , you dickheads, I know the psyche of human beings, I know it all.
Yow will again tell me ," no you don't , you'r just a 19 year old kid "
I say, yes I am 19. Yes I am a kid, and this kid will make life hell you mess with me, you know that already don't you?

Its capricious. I know.
He is the man all that I want. I love him dangerously.
And I know you all , can just stand there and envy me.


Honey, you are a rock upon which I stand!

If you can dream it, you can do it!

Politics needn't be a swear word. Politicians can be good for you. They can be business managers running the state like its a company where change is a number that has to be achieved. A politician can know how to use a computer and turn a backwater into a technology hub. He can be a fanatic but about the common man's prosperity. He can look good, and even hotter than Tom Cruise ;)
Stay in power by the surrender of power.
Represent, not rule.
Politics and governance can be transparent. You will have the right to be able to hold a politician responsible for his actions.

And then, politicians will stop asking for your support. They will support you.
Starting now politics will not come in your way , it will be the way.




Its just about some time, the change will come in soon. Even here :D

The Sin Wagon

Every now and then I hear it coming down the street; I recognize the music which blares from its speakers. A sound all to familiar. Is it that time again? I close my windows and lock my doors as not to be tempted to run outside and take a peek, the temptation is too much to resist. I'm not talking about an ice cream truck; the "sin wagon" is back in town today, collecting the lost souls who want to take a ride, a little escapade and a departure from reality for just a few days, months, years. You decide when you want to come back, this trip is free, and the destination is to the VIP section in the coolest parts of hell.

What do you have to lose? Life smells like stinky dog poop right now, you need an escape and we guarantee that you will have the time of your life. Wait until you see the coming attractions, you wont be sorry you hopped onboard. Lets take a quick detour to "over indulgence," that's always fun!
What's your poison? Tequila? Drugs? Sugar? Sex? It's okay; go ahead...we are on a binge here. Next stop is "reckless intent." Let's get crazy! So what if it isn't right, who cares? We are on vacation from "good"; we have a hall pass to do reckless things on the "sin wagon." Right on, I see "undisciplined" ahead of us. How fun it is to ignore our responsibilities! This feels so good to do! I think I shall spend some more time here, party on I'll catch up with you later.

I don't know how long I've been on this ride now, but I'm getting weary. I miss those who are waiting at home for me. As I look to those who I share this wagon, there is nothing loving or good that I feel. I miss home, its time I get off this ride and say goodbye to those who wish to not remember...life.

I hear the sounds of this wagon again, passing through my neighborhood. The music is tempting and I find that I want to take a peek. Yet I remember the last ride, and however sweet the sound, the trip isn't worth it. Maybe, I should seek to visit heaven next, hell is overrated. Trust me, I know. Some rides aren't worth the journey taken.

Holding On

Dreams
Reality
Hurdles
Voices
People
Inspiration
Appreciation
Rejection


and then,... Chhotepan ka ehsaas.

So there are times, when I just feel like giving up everything, things I've stood for, things I believe in, things I want to be. Feel like ridiculing almost about everything positive and everything which has been an opium to life at some point or the other.
People ; their thoughts and words which have affected me in any way and made me who I am.
Lessons I have learn't ;
Notions I have about the way I learnt those lessons.
Notions about the way people behave/think/react/exist.


More importantly, the dreams I have seen for myself ; because of the million hurdles, because of the will going down, the strength diminishing, the nervous system crash if I may call it.

And then, I weigh it with that one thing I am living for

Ek Pehchaan.

It's worth holding on.
One more time. And many more to come.

Strength
Compassion
Clarity


and, the much wanted desire and want to fulfill every dream..
...will make me fall a million times, make me vulnerable, break my heart;
But I see no better way to live.

The Epiphany

There comes a time in every individual's life when the world just... stops. Time ceases, and only the beat of a heart can pulse within the ears. It always happens when there is a choice involved. A choice when one is waiting to decide which road will apply not only to the individual, but to the world.

One choice... small, mundane. The heart races, the palms sweat... time begins to pound, and the nervous anxiety of a soul crying out begins to be understood. For one moment in time, that individual gets it.

Heresy. Blasphemy. We all carry that spark, that infinite wisdom. We love, we laugh, we cry and weep. We create.

Each kind intention, a stack of good. Each wrong and evil presence another blot of darkness upon the canvas.

We are paint. We are spirit.

And then the moment comes/... and we choose.

Do we bring this knowledge to our populations... or do we hide it among dusty books and heretical lists? Who are we? Which choice is right?

Nothing. Nothing is what is right. All is perspective, relativism and illusion. Everything is based upon perception, and there is no possibility of making everyone happy. The pursuit of happiness is by necessity self-centered. The moral person pursues happiness while attempting to not harm others. THAT is the difference between good and evil.

THAT is who we are.


I lost these words the moment they fell out of my mouth, It's called an illusion and we are *IN* it.
Those million little pieces, they just fit at different places and can never be 'fixed'

It does make sense u retard.! I wanna grump and rant and rant and grump! People, places, stories, realizations, mistakes, feeling, thoughts, events.
Sleep is the best escape.

we are just a part of an illusion, that rabbit and hat magic the magicians do, thats what happens with us; except that the poor rabbit doesn't know he is a part of a trick unlike us. Yet we keep contradicting ourselves on the arguement that we see it, feel it , here it just as it is.
And then a certain part says that its just voices and faces.
Tricked, duped, deny , accept.

Fuck it. They are all wrong.

supposed to?
This is the word which creates all the shit. What is suppose to be will never be, its the molding and the fixings and the forceful fittings which make them the way they become.
Knowing about the the do's and the don'ts make it freaky and makes people like us retards.
Intoxication, sleep and tears. An elevated high; are true.
rest everything's a fuckin illusion.

P.S - People are bitter and people are total assholes. It's why sometimes I'm a bit of a hermit. Truthfully speaking though , it's just the outcome of a world which has never treated its occupants with any reasonable sort of care. This is called cause and effect. :|



S.S I owe you a part of it, facebook postings aren't always random time killing tools. ;)

Disappointed

Just another lazy Saturday evening, was waiting to meet Shruti after a month, she walked in at 6:30, apart from the " So finally how’s college?" update she was waiting to know from me, the most important thing was our excitement to be a part of this show on NDTV tomorrow which was supposed to be a chat show with Abhishek Bachan, :)


My sister walked in the room ; " Sorry but bad news for both of you ; Delhi's on high alert cause of serial blasts and even in GK I, so stop dreaming about Abhishek Bachan now " ( The NDTV office happens to be in GK I)

Our first reaction was obviously a little sad and then a usual five minute discussion on how disgusting it is to terrorize people at the cost of human lives but we went back to what we were talking and that tomorrow's plans will now have to be cancelled, cause just like ours even AB's parents might ask him not to go out of the house ;which was again interrupted by mum's panic phone call since she isn’t in town, and then another and then another by friends and non friends and people who had forgotten my existence for over months; (here I can't resist myself to mention that the ones who really claim to be concerned just forget that I happen to live just 10 minutes away from where these blasts happened) and before we realized, her brother was there to pick her up.

So meeting a friend after really long especially when in that long period of time so many things had happened, inclusive of a series of bomb blasts in our personal lives, this wasn’t how we expected our Saturday evening to be, ( I know, my sense of insensitivity is rather cruel and indifferent )

After walking her to the door, I came back to my room logged on to the internet and saw exactly what I was expecting and had told Shut before she was leaving;
Facebook status messages had changed, very obvious as to how disturbed everyone is because of the blasts.

Life might change for the victims and their families, but for the rest of us, Monday will again be a new start, a few discussions, a few statements of disgust towards this inhuman act, a few changed status messages on FB/orkut/msn/gtalk, a few more blog entries like these by some concerned and some not so concerned people; and that’s it.


I, just feel disappointed, for a wasted weekend and expected curfew at home; for the show tomorrow and for now convincing my friends to bunk college on Monday to come see Wednesday with me or rather go see it alone not being able to spend time with Shruti and do the things we had planned, not getting the expected phone calls and just not being too concerned as to how insensitive I am. :|

I want to swim away but don't know how
Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean

Escaping Pain

The downside of the world is that everybody is telling us what to do.
"This is what’s wrong with the world and this is how to fix it. Just relax, we’re handing you your world on a silver platter and if you destroy it, don’t blame us."

The downside of being a scientist is that you spend your life trying to save the world from the inevitable. The tragedy of being an artist is that you spend your life trying to escape the inevitable.
"Recycle your lightbulbs because otherwise you’re drenching your home with mercury and begging for mutation. Quit smoking because it can cause blockage in your lungs (see also: cancer). Stop buying things made in China because they’re going to pass us in economic efficiency."

Who said that you had to conform to earn your place in the world? We are society. We made these rules and we can change them.

"Being an individual is the second bravest and/or most ignorant thing you can do, the first being having faith in anything."

Where would your fashion magazines and soap-opera stars be if we functioned solely on mitosis?
"Look the same, act the same, perfect people. We’re headed there."

Is it sad when a large portion of the girls in our country are masters of addition and subtraction because of calorie counting?

Fed on strict diets of image with daily doses of inferiority complexes, our youth is convinced that this is what we should be. We need to be a mirage or nobody will love us.

This is a plastic world of Photoshopped false idols and pain relievers. The world has a blurry edge to it. We focus so hard on relieving every prick of pain that we don’t see how we’re stifling growth. Pain has sparked almost all great things (songs, books, movements, speeches, paintings, ideas). People want to change the world because they see pain and suffering. Our sheltered, pill-popping children see none of this. And if they do catch a glimpse, they feel so disconnected that it doesn’t hit home. Apples for breakfast and neurotoxins for lunch. To live a real life, a meaningful life, don’t you need to experience pain? Emotional and physical pain teach us lessons and give us a powerful tool with which to take on the world.

We dont want to take risks, and attainable risks have been shut down long ago, leaving our experience-deprived teenagers stuck with a list of adrenaline rushes ranging from slightly potent to six feet under. If it’s fun, it’s either illegal, dangerous or a little of both. Give it a few years and that flu virus you’r safeguarded against has mutated to the point where it’s a completely new flu, and the bacteria that would have killed it has been wiped out, thanks to the anti-bacterial soap in every dispenser in every public bathroom.


I want to live before living is too lethal to attempt. I want to try things and enjoy things and feel things even if there is a one in 700 chance that I might develop brain cancer.I dont want to be afraid of suffering and pain that I medicate and medicate and medicate the pain away.
I want to suffer to create something truly beautiful.