Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Rains caught me, suddenly...

It drizzling outside…

We’re in end of May and monsoon start hitting at the corner, they call it ‘global warming’. Have you look at the sunsets when it rains?

Ah, what a joyful scene.

Stray Thoughts...

I really like you. You're a nice person, and you've been cool, and it's been great, okay? But it's supposed to be fun. Now it's a serious thing. I know this sounds corny and silly, but something in me felt…entitled.

You think this is a love affair? A relationship? Wanna roll around the floor like lovers? You've gone f****** mad. You don't know how to love. You have never, your whole life.

You know i'm livin' this room with buds of cigarettes, bland cold food, a sticker from Pizza Express; keeping notes of the thoughts that fly down…wat! You think you're Virginia frigging Woolf! People think they know what it is to lonely but to the drip, drip of long-haul, no-end-in-sight solitude, they know NOTHING.

I've been up to my head all my life, a decent one. This voice inside me kept saying "why shouldn't you be bad, why shouldn't you transgress? I mean, you've earned the right." Go to the Streets? Join the local pubescent prowls?

You s**** MAN!

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

How I’m feeling NOW?

Right now the feeling is of restlessness. Maybe I feel different tomorrow but dunno…wat?

Funny! Life always finds something that you can worry about, and it appears in different colors and shades. How would the God react, if I jus’ dump the ‘worries’ into a bin and be obsolete to the changes or the shades? If you're wondering about it, it has a scientific reason. Distraction of any kind allows the subconscious mind to process the data in your brain, and to solve problems.... like knots. We’re knotted?

Knotted to what? The Destiny…
Enuff of this riddles and feeling "lonely" by single seconds, I’m busy entwining the riddles. People around me can't stop discussing booze, drugs, and women with heavy butts in the weekend, I think about walking under the stars until I can say that I've not lived in vain and that appreciated life enough.

So why was I so depressed anyway? I feel like I've been or still am pregnant with a thought. Or to be precise, an... idea... or maybe rather a fact. Not sure how to explain. I notice something that is true in some way and I've pushed it away for so long. It’s been a part of me in the recent times, and suddenly has left me strayed.

Life will be easy again and I am OK. I am *fine* and is HAPPY, anyway.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

About Me...

Lately, I’ve been lying a bit low. Sigh! I have tasks to do, errands to run yeti held back all to myself writing journal and wondering who the visitor will be.

I don't like how I pretend to go about my days like I'm okay. I go to work with a fresh face, responding to everyone who says *hi* to me, smiling, talking, and working. Wearing a 'mask', but that's how it's supposed to be.

Can't complain.

So, here’s a quick regummera on myself — that's a good way to look at it - you can know well.

Q: What colors dominate your closet?
Last time, I look up at the sky; it was all *blue* with tinge of red streaks and golden hue gradually shifting to a more dark tone. I open the closet to find the **sky** spread before me.

Q: Have you ever mistaken a person for someone else?
I’m awful at remembering the names but d face remain clear as crystal. I don’t forget. Uff! It’s a pain.

Q: On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how well do you keep secrets?
You’d have killed me if I say the truth. Quite moderate one but then I’ve the habit of throwing up.

Q: What is your favorite foreign food?
Wish I'd known you were going to ask that. I ordered some good Chinese for the night.

Q: How would you like your life to end?
After working like an *ass* the whole night I take to bed with my head resting at your shoulder and your arms around me, I will go to sleep never to wake up. I’ma highly romantic, ain’t I?

Q: Algebra or Geometry
Mmm…how about poetry!

Q: Do you sing in the shower?
There are three things I don't do: tan, date and sing in public. But under shower I stand…and…I sing.

Q: Fingernails on the chalkboard — Annoying or pain?
This is weird…fuc****g weird. This is you being annoying, congratulations.

Q: Define the term- HOME
[Pouting lips] Hmm…!A trash bin on weekdays but sparkling and sweet smelling in weekends. Spacious and airy, its all about me…my home loves being untouched and lonely.

Q: What rains remind you of?
When it rains, you run from doorway to doorway, trying to stay dry but getting wet all the while and then giggles. I like sticking out little paper boat and watch’em wobbling on streets. In evening, if it rains I like’em running down through the glass windows as I drink beer. On second thought, I like thunderstorms accompanying rain.

Q: How many books do you read each month? What are you reading now?
I don’t count on them. Maybe, three to four but it depends on how many I get in a month. Finished, reading “Dancing Girls of Lahore” by Louise Brown and currently glued to Elizabeth Miller’s “May you be the mother of a hundred sons”.

Q: How would you describe your taste in music?
Sober. I am a bohemia goin back home to lie down and listen to country music or sufi. The music of pain.

Q: What was the last food you craved?
Musty prawns and tender lamb! Kick 'em in the dishpan! Hoo-hoo-hoo!!

Q: A stranger with whom you would like to be in bed?
Josh…well, you mayn’t know but the one, if reads will. [blushing…]

Q: If you were a cookie, what kind of cookie would you be, and why?
Nothing about Cookie…Nothing at all. Oh, no. Even if I were a...Chocolate chip cookie or a Vanilla or Peanut butter? I love ice creams; it melts with sweet lingering taste and makes one giggle.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Another bad day to start

Today is another bad day...speaking of blood. I jus wanna hit somebody in the road or smash a plate on the floor and scream my lungs out in the lift. Acting a *proxy* was like goin’ straight to hell. Well, I tell you…the next time, if I’m asked to pick up roles, I should be a bully and non-accommodating.

First, there’s the mess and then all said, “there’s no process”. Gawd, I believed. Likely, I skipped over a few and that sparked-off a series of cribbing, fussing, and reworking today. The man (as they say, ADMIRAL) acted like a high-school bully while I was completely lost. I couldn’t figure out “what they ask for” or to be politically correct, “how much they ask for?” I know I’m being a newbie trying to make things fit into the right portions but need f****** help from my team. But no, they aren’t so cooperative… the lack of neurons in my brain that triggers response just further shrivel and die. I just stand there not wanting to do anything because there's no thought in my head or willingness to answers to any question(s). It’s a wicked indulgence. Didn't they have any butter pecan?

I couldn’t think further. And in situations, I just shut down, paralyzed, unable to switch focus from one situation to another. Anxiety builds rapidly and that drives people crazy or give ‘em an edge over.

“Life is so upside down. I am at zero.”

I imagined mile after mile of oak and beech trees, casting dappled shadows over roe deer peacefully grazing in the woodland glades like the milky way. The words are strange here, the air is cold. The fruit is less sweet, my feet are on thick winter ice and the thrum of bicycles makes an odd music across the cobblestones. And when I go for a walk and there’s no one around, I’m rejuvenated and HAPPY.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Ode to aCupcha

It’s 10:30p.m. (IST)
I returned like a good homie to cook the dinner but not much psi lasting for the night. Nerdy! You can’t cook food in the clothes dryer and there’s not much option left. Well…that’s leave me with ONE and it’s the regular — Teatime folks!

Yea! I'ma real tea lover, drinking several cups a day. For those, who alike me havin’ bulimia could survive. Hey, dats remind of MEM[1] we had today where the Big Boss with rueful diction ranted over the new coffee machine installed, recently to add employees’ convenience. Eewh. The blasphemed soul mull through a long list of flavor like chotu in a tapri (local tea stalls) finally concluding the Tea party thanking the Administration. Gee…!

Oh! I fail to mention every morning Qs where we bump into each other over snaky cubicles holding the warm liquid as a hand warmer. Excuse me… I jus wanna be alone and quiet in a room with a chair and a fireplace and hot brewing tea in the pot. In fact, I could try about anything — a very dark green verging on black tea with natural essences of bergamot, citrus and flowers, very mild and smooth. Or, a milky one with sweetener added to extravagantly.

Herbal tea? I'm surrounded by new age crap.

Tea is classy and regal. In fact, one could barter kingdoms and nation as they did at Boston, centuries back. Whoa! You can even relish the cup in English weather while they drop an Atom Bomb in the neighborhood. Hmm…you gotcha’ need some kindaa of addiction for that, weirdo. And, I have it.

All right, moron Time for me to have my own…then, I’d sell China to some Englishmen.
[1] Monthly Employee Meeting

First Day of Confession

Living alone in the small town with strict Maharashtrian flavor socially disengaged and fighting insomnia —I’m basically bored out of my mind so, ‘Bloggin’. The earlier attempts dried down faster than any goddamn! Sprinter, so fast that I either run-out of ideas or lack thereof.

Hmm…

I believe I’ve all the characteristics of a successful virtuoso. I’m self-indulgent, self-dedicated, and the hero of my dreams. (Well, I dream so fervently that I fear to lose my citizenship card and gotcha’ a new one into fantasy land.) If you are reading my posts expecting great profundities, please surf elsewhere. I am an ol’ haggard who’ve mastered using the slippery tongue (well, I know few better use of them, too) and uttering non-sense.

It's just one of those days after a really late night and started with chasing deadlines and banging my head against the computer’s monitor because yet another ‘dull project’ has given me a runaround. And, as I hop around the small cubicles with red and white screen mulling through streams of design pages and instructional ideas; doubling for my Lead, who’s in a blissful holiday and I’m here to kick-off the new project-on-thon for charity. The job is going very well. I am hoping to get a little more to do very soon. I think I am going to have to wrestle it from Da Boss though. The environment is though moron and stifling with guys being too laid-back who need couple of reminding and follow-up mails to make things happen.

Hell’ ya! God knows what pep-up other bloggers’ to scribble regularly I feel dull and exhausted. But, now I find myself being a little more honest than I typically am. [Thanks! Josh…the man really listen to every nerdy thing I say]. Don't be mistaken, I haven't been consciously lying to people; or at least it feels better to think of it that way. Wishing with the bloggin’ craze I could better off.

My Childhood Winters

I was in bed, waiting for sleep to overcome me when I realized that I couldn’t be there enjoying another Delhi winters. Well, that’s six more months to go…I can’t predict the future. [I pay professionals to do that, and even they get it wrong most of times.] Still, I get nostalgic and begun reminiscing events before they run dry…coz I won’t find a good time, anymore. No more Winters!

Last year, when I left Delhi amid wintry fog and temperature dipping 2oCelsius clogging the departure board at the country’s busiest airport, I'm stuck waiting 'till they snaps out with some weird comment announcing further delay. I chilled in the corridor munching crunchy roasted poppadam and washing it down with hot cup’cha.

My thoughts drift back to the ol’ childhood days when winters were meant sitting around warm ‘anghiti’ [a coal stove made locally] until the eyes sting and fluff. In the mornings, we put our navy blue trousers, socks and tightly laced shoes that are double-knotted as if we’re gonna lose them! As we run through the crisscross alley of known neighborhood lanes blowing smoky fume from the mouth. Then in faint light of the dusk we play cricket in the street with a hard cork ball that rap on unprotected knuckles…it would hurt like a m*********r.

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories...But, I'm just an artist. I doodle in the margins of notepads; I daydream and lived half my life in a fantasy while the rest spend watching squirrels gathering nuts for the winters.

Now, I’m relocated and there’s no WINTERS or squirrels…by the window sill. I am exhausted.