Sunday

Sunday is the day..
when we talk..
of the day that was..
and of the days that were..
the have beens along with the one
that is still here..
of the times which were amiss
and which were forgotten as the ones let bygones

Sunday is the day,
when it's asked "Ssup" along with a "hey"!
when on asked I talk about
my fat woes and new shoes!
when you travel while listening to me babble
about the crazy nitty-gritty about
my life in a boring city.

Sunday is the day.

we always say "hey"! and the next person adds on the "you",
which then says "hey you"!

p.s. because, there has to be a line, which says that I cant rhyme!

Saturday #5!

"it was that long ago but it's all coming back to me.."

Saturday.. like it always used to be.. then.. when there was still used to be a "we"..

and well, some good definitely comes up with an 'extra' Saturday in the month.. *so much for me hating and cursing the fifth Saturday*

but then, i will be lying if i say that it was not fun.. maybe it was not simply "fun".. it was deja vu.. only better.. i guess that's what happens when everything involving the characters reeks of familiarity(sic)..

p.s. the "sent" folder of the mail-box is a very tricky place to go down.. things, that you think you've kept in the deepest recess of your mind which seems tantalizingly just beyond your reach, hold a tremendous power in playing with your mind.. sometimes good, and sometimes not that good.. 

this time around, it had "smiles" and "all things nice" for me..

p.p.s as i said, the charm of the extra Saturday!

"it was lost long ago but it's all coming back to me. it was dead long ago but it's all coming back to me. i can barely recall but it's all coming back to me now."   --MeatLoaf

Kiddo speaks

We didn't get out last goodbye.. And in a way that felt right.. Because I don't do well with goodbyes.. Especially those of the "last" types..
{the last you remember me as dressed in a sari, completely trumping your estimates and expectations, and piercing you with my "looks"..}

Still, there is that mind boggling feeling.. Of a type I can't really nail down to something being felt before.. Maybe this is what sadness means.. But it sure doesn't feel like the "sadness" type..

Yes, it's more than that.. Something or some place where even the words can't reach..

I'll miss those early morning pick-ups, the 3.00 A.M. conversations, the zillion plans which failed each time during their execution, those crazy talks, those random punches, the "fights", those fight for attention, me piercing you with my looks (like you say), that priceless laugh, THIS and THAT, "paradise", and every other thing.. I'll miss my Meano..

He is Dear.. He is Special.. In more ways that I can let him know.. And hopefully in no way less than he already knows..

Even halfway across the world, he'll be still 'here'.. and that's the belief, I'm strongly living with..

This is where the "Brown Sweater" and "Boxer" come in.. My 'comforts'.


p.s. you know it all, M.

our song!

i have friends who are dating for sometime now.. i have friends who have always been dating since forever.. i have friends who have just started dating people.. i have friends who are now getting married to their long time "partners".. i have friends who are getting married the "arranged" way..

they all have one thing in common.. and they all again have that one (more) thing in  common within that one (original) thing in common..

and that is, their "song"..

they all have a "song".. special song.. their song.. for good reasons.. for fond reasons.. for special reasons..

and they all were those good, romantic, melodious, sweet songs.. some were peppy, some soothing, some calming, some with dance beats.. but all were those "good" songs..

and that put a smile on my face.. because, i and a certain someone, also, being no different from those mentioned above, have our share of "songs".. and they all are "romantic" in their own sense.. but there lies one difference

for any outsider, those songs are the most crass songs ever! but for us, its "special"..

• "aa ante amlapuram", used to be our drive-to song, to which he used to dance.
• "maloom", was the ONLY proper sweet song, that used to be our walk-to song, on a sunday, in the crowded streets along the sea in Bombay.
• "johnny johnny" became our 'home-alone-with-each-other' song.
• "tere liye" was the std phone calls song!

and then there were "sheila ki jawani", "chikni chameli", and the likes of them!

but then somewhere, it was the "stereo love", from where it all began!


p.s. and there goes my "promise" of not writing about "you n i".. promises are really meant to be broken!(sic)

coincidence

i don't believe in luck..
i don't think myself to be superstitious either..
but then, it all simply cant just be plain coincidence..

he was a part of everything of mine(tangibles and/or intangibles) since the moment he began.. 2010.. till the moment he lasted.. 2013..

and then he was not there.. and it was then, when even i was not really "there"..

he resurfaced.. 2014.. at a time i thought, i could have done very well without that..
but, with him, even i resurfaced.. so as to speak..

and i say this, because, the result(s) are again in my favour..

is he the "good" part of me?

or is this all a very happy coincidence?!

bed-side manners

and then  you'll tell me, "so, you a superstitious sort?"
and i'll say, each time, every time, "no."

i have grown up reading about the importance of the sides of the bed.. the wrong side and the right side.. point to note here is the fact that i've been brought up along the western/English ways/beliefs of life in the major aspects, and thereby also am branded as "angrez"/ "shaheb" by every one in the house-hold! so, this explains my picking up on the significance of bed-sides.. though, i've never really bothered to delve into the essence of the whole phenomenon, it definitely did catch my fancy.. so, i've grown up associating the reason of grumpiness of some people (mind you, only those who make it to my 'favourite' list) to their getting up from the sides of their bed.. thus became the "right" side and the "wrong" side.. and that was fun..!

well, if you dont believe me, try telling "so, it looks like you got out from the wrong side of your bed this morning," to someone who is thoroughly given up on the world and almost at his/her wits end and completely and absolutely exasperated!!! (warning : do that at entirely your risk!!!)

so today, i was applying this very logic to myself.. nothing like self introspection when you're stuck in horrible traffic, at 10 in the morning, en route to work.. and i was almost on the verge of certifying it as being the truth as well, when, it was the Royal Highness in all it's glamour!

stuck for over 10 mins at a signal halfway to work, the cars moving, rather crawling at snails pace, i finally halt as the first in line, waiting on the red light.. turned off the ignition, humming away to the radio, and i'm greeted to Royalty! a Black Bentley cruises by!!! and all my conclusions of my self introspection vis-a-vis the sides of the bed goes down the drain.. rather out of the window!

who cares about which side of the bed you got off when you see a Bentley?! and that too, absolute unobstructed view! for mornings like this, every side is the perfect side! and even the most horrible traffic (yes, it lasted up till the parking lot of office!) fails to put a dampner!!!

"everybody lies"

the only one downside of a tech-savvy mom -- when she starts interpreting your whatsapp status and asks  you," what's wrong? did someone say something to you?"
i'm even ready to sideline the questions regarding the DPs, but the statuses get tricky.. because that involves words and conversations.. and after all, i'm her daughter, and if i'm what you call "sawaa sher", she definitely happens to be the "sher" in the equation!

and it's only fair and logical in the course of evolution that the future generation is more evolved.
*chuckles*

have you ever loved a Jerk?

have you ever loved a Jerk?

oh wait! i got it wrong.. that is not possible.. no, because sure, love is blind.. but the effect or the realisation of the blindness comes later..

you don't love a jerk..
you love someone.. at times, you happen to love a man.. you pinch yourself hard enough to really believe that this is happening to you and that you're not really hallucinating or dreaming or imagining stuffs.. so, things move along smoothly.. and then, after a real considerable amount of time being spent being with each other, under the common parlance of "love", B-A-M! it goes wrong..
and then the "jerk" comes in the picture.. and you curse.. what a jerk he is? can't even stand up for the cause he wants? and then you condition your mind to get out of it.. and you try to fool yourself, and even succeed in that, and live a new life.. without the jerk part featuring in it.. ah well, at least apparently..

but then, rule of the nature.. what goes around comes around.. a familiar knock on the door.. the familiar white light.. the familiar everything.. and all those that was once locked simply breaks open the lock and comes rushing to the fore..

and you realise the love never went anywhere.. but this time its different.. this time, it makes you mad.. because this time, you know he is a jerk.. and yet there's that part of you, that still loves him.. or wait, there's that part of you, that always loved him..

so yeah, i ask again? have you ever loved a jerk?
i might know someone, who has.

return

“If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were” - Gibran Kahlil.

i have always believed that people have a natural instinct to return.. come back to the place where they began.. that point in life, is always worth a remembrance from where it all started.. and it holds true for me.. and always had.. 
people have always come back to me.. in some point or other, in some way or other.. i guess, being a nomad has this in-built trait.. of having things/people getting back to you at some point in your life.. i never really looked forward to them coming back.. maybe because, i've always wanted them to be in a form of a good surprise, a happy "reunion" sorts..
but of course, everything doesn't leave a good impression.. there are some, you wish to never ever have back in your life.. i did too.. in fact, i still do.. 
but i know, they'll all come back.. they always do.. it's always the case of "and when we'll meet, which i'm sure we will "that works it's way with me.. 
i don't fear people going away.. i understand.. everything has it's own own space and time.. but i'm only afraid of one thing.. i'm afraid, that when they do come back, maybe i've moved way too far along.. maybe i'm no more at the place where they'd left me.. maybe, it's just too late.. so, when they do come back, i'll know, because i always know.. but maybe, they might just not find me..

i quoted Kahlil Gibran.. not because i follow him or his works.. but this particular quote came up in my social page and it triggered a lot of muddled and tangled feelings.. followed with all the flashbacks..

i don't know anymore, what to make out of love.. i don't know what that means.. i'm not even sure whether i'm for, or against it.. and it's all because of a certain incident a year and a half back.. a certain point in time.. but, i was not really like this.. i had love in my life.. i did love someone like i never knew i could.. and i felt good about it.. and even, to this day, i don't regret loving the way i did that particular person.. i don't regret giving him those years of my life.. because, i was happiest then.. true, it didn't end the way i'd hoped.. in fact, the way it did, made me what i am now.. uncertain about love.. but i knew, that it'll also come back.. and that frightened me.. because, deep down, i waited for it to return.. but i also feared that maybe it'll all be too late.. maybe when he comes back, i just won't be there..

so, as per the above quote, i did let him go, when he went  away.. and now, after a year and a half, after desperate attempts of moving on, after endless trials of waiting and finally giving up and learning to live without being whole, he does come back.. at a time, i never hoped he will.. he remembers almost verbatim, the last conversation.. almost everything about the "traits".. and tries hardest to get back into "talking".. so, somehow, he did come back.. so, am i to conclude, that he was mine?

i still can't shake off the way i felt, and maybe still do, when it comes to him.. yes, it's not easy.. and it's painful, because pushing those times of my life at the deepest and the darkest corner of my soul, was something near impossible.. the constant reminder that i can never be whole again, and still learning to live with it and smiling for the cameras.. and this is where, my fear comes true.. it's just too late.. because, he remembers me from where he left.. but i'm no more there.. i'm no more that person.. i can never be that person.. because, that part of me died, or gave up living, or couldn't survive his going away.. the reason being, he was the very life.. so, i had to carve, to create, a new "me".. a life where there exists no sign of what was before..

so now, how do i live? because, with his every attempt, all those memories that i had pushed far behind, somehow manage to come up.. and then begins the conflict.. which, i don't know how to resolve.

so maybe, somethings should never EVER come back.

misnomer

came across a photo.. two people.. a boy and a girl.. sitting across each other.. over a table laid with some cutleries.. and appearance looks like a coffee table set up with probably a hint of late supper..

the point here is not me describing the decor of the setting, per se.. so, shifting back the focus on the two people concerned.. the boy, and the girl.. the caption reads : "boy spotted having a good time with girl at a famous hotel in suburbs of city"
if you read just that, you tend to form a mental picture of.. so, i;ll leave you to that..

what took me by surprise was the complete absence of correlation of any sorts between the caption and the photo.. the photo showed the boy and the girl, both the least bothered about the spread of eatables in front of them.. both supremely engrossed and extremely busy(so much so to even notice either's presence) and hunched over with with utmost concentration on their respective phones..

so, is this what the modern day synonym of "having a good time" really mean?

if you ask me,(and "me" being of the current generation, still on the "right" side of thirties, and in that perfect stage of "twenties") this is plain bull-shit.. you gotta at least acknowledge the person's presence.. at least for the sake of the picture!

ugggghhhhhh!

gel finish!

so, bottom-line is....
{yeah, i get it.. kinda weird.. i'm starting with the "bottom"line(sic) in the very beginning of this write up..ah well.. so much for the "modern writings"(sic)!!! and a sincere plea to all those serious students of the English language, please don't kill me for this..! i beg you.. no offense meant here, and do count me in the numbers of those serious "devotees" of this English language.. anywho.. getting back.. the bottom-line is..}

this insanely expensive nail paint is actually living up to its insane monetary value{in numbers(sic)}, so much so, that i'm so impressed by its "performance" that i cant help but actually blog about it! also, some (spill-over and trickle-down) credit should go towards the recent influence by the terminology(s) of "corporate blogging" (though, this is nothing of that sort) and some serious need of spice and deviation from the otherwise mundane and rut life in this shit hole of a place that i live in.. which also currently happens to be like a boiling cauldron!

so, the thing in focus :: the nail-paint!
and yes, its insanely expensive, if you ask me! but its damn good too.. and well, i say expensive, and yet i have it.. but lets get this straight.. i never bought it.. this is one of those strategically planned benefits of certain "memberships".. i say "strategically", 'coz, you have to use it that way.. and that depends entirely on your discretion..

and it actually lives up to all its insanely(again, yes!) tall claims of "can dos" in the advertisement (feat. Mrs Kareena Kapoor Khan)..
and eight days on, after being subjected to a couple of hair-wash(es), everyday random dish washing(s), everyday random laundry(s) and also an episode of nail-cutting, there is still no sign(even the minutest) of a chip in the corner.. and it still shines and glazes like i'd just put it on a couple hours back!

so yes! for an insanely low-maintenance and rough-handling-in-everyday-affairs-of-domestic-life girl like me, this is like a boon!

#LakmeAbsoluteGelStylist, i love you.

p.s : the photo is used only for representation purposes..
       image source : www.google.com
p.p.s : would have killed for hands like these!

 

day1, year 1421.

i believe that the major part of the year goes according to the way the first day of the year was lived/spent.. and so, i take special note of that first day.. again, since i refuse to be tied down by customs, that first day may not be the conventional first day.. the first day can start on any day.. and i'll count a year from that day.. and that will be my year based on the first day..

and so, today was another first day.. and just another insignificant day.. also happened to be the first day, for a fairly lot of other people too.. and as it comes to an end for me( as it so happens that, i'm so terribly sleepy, that i can barely keep my eyes open here) i prefer to jot down the highlights of my first day.. memory's sake..

1. so, my year began with me not seeing my pops, as he left on tour before i woke up.. and he wont be back for a week.. so, i begin my year, without him on day-1.. and that sucks..
2. i have my Thamma and Pishi with me, at my place.. i began my day with them.. so maybe, just maybe, there might be more of them in the year to follow..
3. i received an awesome parcel, so my hopes are up for the rest of the year!
4. i wore new clothes.. more important, i had new clothes to wear!
5. i spoke with all those, who are important to me and who matter to me.. and who i love..
6. i got a gift..
7. even managed to stay on schedule!

and, so as i decide to call it a day, i can say that overall, it had been a good one..

after all, it was just another day..

and all i have to do is, count a year from it..

#1421.

I'd, revive

the clandestine remarks
hovering over my head round.
clothed with sensations
coloured blue, pale and brown.

the chimes of time tick away,
surging onto the land it seeks.
i lay down as a gawker
oblivious to the havoc it wreaks.

a hum of cry cuts my heart
a sudden rush of pain it spells.
like million spears taped to one
a melancholy song it impels.

as the sun sinks down its bed
the moon glows to its skills
an unclaimed thought grips me hard
spitting out a wave of chills.

i disguise myself to believe
the agony soon would scatter.
if only would it be you throughout
none of these would matter.
your presence in me, i feel,
only spreads too greater.

"i want you and you are not here.i pause in this garden, breathing the color of thought before language into still air.even your name is a pale ghost and, though i exhale it again and again, it will not stay with me.tonight i make you up, imagine you, your movements cleaner than the words i have you say, you said before.


wherever you are now, inside my head you fox me with a look, standing here whilst cool late night dissolves into the earth.i have got your mouth wrong, but still it smiles.i hold you closer, miles away, inventing love, until the calls of night-jars interrupt and turn what was to come, was certain, into memory.the stars are filming us for no one."

P says "paranoia"

the tale-tell signs, when paranoia kicks in.. when the jitters creep in.. and when i sense that i'm beginning to lose it.. the followings are the sure shot pointers.. bottom line:: stay out of my way, for your own safety..(sic)

1. my hands turn clammy..
   (though, when i say this, Mr.D begs to differ.. he says that my hands are forever clammy.. but then again, i beg to differ.. and so, i agree to disagree..)
2. i don't feel very good.. about anything.. and yet nothing in particular..
3. i lose the ability to be specific..
4. i can't focus..
5. i become shifty..
6. i have this tremendous urge to keep my fingers busy..
7. i can't seem to stand mirrors..
8. my brain and/or mind stops working rationally..
9. i start scribbling.. at times even unintentionally.. at times, intentionally..
   (Mr.D says that he'd rather have me in this perpetual state of paranoia, as he will get to see those awesome(strictly his views and opinion, this) sketches!)
10. i tend to fight with every feeling that tends to show up in my body..
11. i go underground..
12. i turn absolutely unreachable.. no terms of contact..
    (though, living in the same house, it kind of becomes a bit of an inconvenience, as my mamma always keeps on bumping to me.. and my pops seems to be simply unable to do without me.. though, even then, the "shut-doors" come in handy)
13. i'm cranky..(sic)
14. i feel cold..
15. i can't sleep..
16. i blabber..
    which i have realised, been doing for quite long..

so, i better stop.. or no.. i have to pull myself away from this lapi.. *oh boy..*

patakha guddi!

highway..and what a movie..!!!!
it was the second show.. and running, panting, and almost pushing through the rush of people in front of us--me and mamma---just about managed to reach the seats before the room became all dark..but it was all worth the effort..

and what a movie.!!!! alia bhatt simply stole the show away!!!! and randeep hooda!!! *drool!* no jat can ever be so lovable.. rough.. crude, harsh, yet with the most soft and unaltered innocence, deep within.. you'll cry when he dies.. and yes.. he dies.. and that's how real this movie is!

and it was again then when i realised that i'm 'naked' without my habit.. that shoulder to rest my head on.. that embrace, wherein i felt the safest and the most secure..

i.missed.all.that.and.more.



*maine toh tere, tere utte
chhaddiyan doriyan
maine toh tere, tere utte
chhaddiyan doriyan..*

habit

it still has not sunk in yet.. it's taking it's own sweet time..
but, 2 days in now, and finally it seems to me that i'm finally beginning to feel the strain in my longing for you.. the "distance"of around 500 kms, finally getting the better of me..

as its now only limited to "ki korchhish" during and at the most random hours of the day..

and no, it does NOT and can NOT even come close for being the substitute of what it was till a couple of days back..

you made habits for me.. habits i loved.. habits i swore by.. habits i loved and lived to swear by..
you were my habit..

and all i can say now is ~

(old)HABITS die hard(sic).

p.s. because, you know.. and i dunno anything else.. xoxox