Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Go Goa!

Its finally here. It's going to be a long stormy day.
Significant in more ways than one.
But i'm all packed up again. I enjoy the (pseudo)nomadic life.
The train departs 10:55pm, CST, Mumbai.
It will have a bunch of mad-hatters on it. Mad hatters with a guitar. Guitar=Noise.
A mis-matched lot, thrown together by circumstance and chance. Held together by joyusness and people persons.
The guitar is a glue that seals the deal, and we will be off.
To the land of beaches and bums. Sea and seafood. Pools and Pahhtaayyyss.Fun and fantasy. Love and lathargy. Sun, sand, swimming and so much more.
To a "city" that really doesn't sleep.
A place where I am well versed with hospitals and damage control.
A state that is reminiscent of wish you were here and the rest.
Becoming a part of the great migration, accross states and seas, where we all converge but only for a week to bring in the new year.
Goa, we will arrive.

Happy new year everyone!
Until next year then...

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Did you know?

Life they say, is a process of growth and discovery, change and evolution. Of figuring yourself out. And although I am nowhere near the end, heck it's not even a speck in my line of vision, I have learnt, a little.
As the year draws to a close, I reflected on some of the wisdom I have gathered, behold the pearls. ;)

· Ensure you know what your putting in your mouth - lest it end up being pig blood.
· Do not permit other people to mix your drinks. Never ever.
· Never admit to telling the truth when intoxicated - Damn I just did it again!
· Crows bestow luck only upon those with nice clean hair.
· Try not to procrastinate, it never ends. (No working well under pressure is not that effective an excuse)
· As much as I would like to be superwoman, i am not.
· I reiterate the hard truth that words once spoken cannot be taken back.
· Life has a way of working itself out in the end. For the better, although it is easy to be sure otherwise.
· Everybody has an Angel, I know I do.
· Were never going to survive unless we are a little bit crazy.
· Death is permanent but the pain is temporary, long lasting but temporary.
· Sometimes, it really is better to give than to receive.
· Its not always comforting to know what the future holds. Sometimes it just holds you back.
· It's a small world after all.

This among other things, intangible and difficult to put in words.
Merry Christmas to all. And to all a good night

Monday, December 19, 2005

Hanging by a moment...

There is the life and times, memories, nostalgia and then
there are moments.
A stillframe, vividly etched in the reel of life. Where life pauses, time is defied and the world waits; just for a moment to allow you to let it sink in. Penetrate to the depths.
A moment that will not blur. That will stay whole,atleast for some time to come.
A moment; over-emotional and under-played.
A moment the heart and mind conferred and made you loose control.
United they stood.
A moment where you realised what you were loosing because it's almost gone.
With so much to say, but no words to express it.
Where there was confusion and chaos, loss of pride and pragmatism.
Love and laughter, tears and rain.
The ultimate emotional rollercoster.
A spontaneous overflow of powerful emotion. Only muted.
Irreplicable and incomprehensable.
I feel...

Thursday, December 15, 2005


The past has a way of catching up with you.
So does unfinished business.
Then all the procrastination and excuses fuse and slap you in the face.
Suddenly its time to sit up and take notice and life isn't as hunky-dory anymore. This week finally I swallowed more than I could chew, I could've chewed the little bits as I put them in but I decided to wait till my mouth was full.
Now I taste it all.
So I'm hoping I can freeze time and cursing technology for being unable to and still making new commitments.
I try, hard and harder to make ammends but to no avail.
Mediocrity is the only option.
So as always I will settle.
For mediocrity and a laundy list of tasks, functions, little things that will most definately slip the mind.
Settle in.
Comfotably... no not numb.... just comfortable and happy wtih mediocrity.
Yet again.
And run.
Just hope compromise doesn't have a way of catching up.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Four letter words.

Love. Fool.
After heartfelt, shaken up posts andother coherant events I have begun to wonder...
Is it really better to have loved an lost than never to have loved at all?
Even if the ache lasts longer than the addiction?
Even if heartbreak overcomes hope?
When life is surreal and happiness a distant dream?
When you begin to question everything including yourself?
Because you were joint at the hip and have time on your hands.
Because cognitive capacities are challenged and can't keep pace.
Is love really as wonderful when its unrequited?
One things for sure it makes for brilliant reading, as do most other tradgedies, including death. Its much harder to steal a heart with wonderful stories as opposed to woeful ones, of that I am certain, but I digress.
Is love really blindness and butterflies?
Sensuality and speechlessness?
That smell in her hair, the look on his face. Her vain innocence and his vain attempts to impress.
Is it ever unconditional? Forever?
Does it lead to loss of basic instincts?
Can we really live on love and fresh air?
Ain't no sunshine when (s)he's gone?
Is it possible to love at first sight?
Or Is love just overrated?
Is it worth the eternal search?
The questions of some one for everyone? (scientifically speaking this is impossible)
Having never loved or lost I wonder, but I really wouldn't know.
Lust. Love. Laugh. Love. Like. Love. Loss. Still love.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Still hung up

And this weekend...There were more busrides, much much shorter.
I was caring and brutal.
Brutally honest.
Some of the most intense conversation I've had in months.
Waking, dazed to a public service anouncement. New realtionships had been formed. Surprises that were not quite.
Walks from bed to breakfast and more.... more osho chappals, maybe i'm addicted?
The Indian adaptation of Kentucky fried cruelty. Managed to sample thier entire non-vegetarian selection in two meals, leading me to infer two things:
1. I have a voracious appetite.
2. They have a very limited selection.
I have concluded it is a combination of the two.
They also have a very good brownie sundae.
After initial suspicion, upon futher probing we discovered it isn't really thier fault. Maybe PETA's allegations aren't completely justified.
Hand churned ice cream is much much better than any brownie sundae.
Parsi bhonu is much much better at weddings and navjots.
I have missed them. I have missed eating 'patras'. I have missed dhansak. I have missed my bawi friends. But they are all back with a vengence.
December is come, in all her glory.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Why... did the chicken cross the road?

Why are most Indian men more petite than me? Why can't I spell? Why didn't I have a good day? Why can't I put this book down? Why am I listening to this song over and over again? Why should I always save best for last? Why do you expect me to enjoy birthdays? Why is it so hard to value what you have till its gone? Why is it just so hard to make that decision? Why should I trust you? Why can't we just get along? Why is so much left unsaid? Why can't all wrongs be undone? Why does laughter give way to tears? Why doesn't the heart ever listen to the head? Why do opposites attract? Why do things just not work out sometimes? Why did 'they' seem so perfect? Why is this upsetting me so much? Why don't I feel the same anymore? Why do we assume things will get better? Why do we just say that? Why do these small things make you sooo happy? Why am I so fickle? Why should I care? Why do we lie so much? Why doesn't the mind ever rest? Why don't we tire of mistakes? Why do they say the past will come back to haunt you? Why should the past haunt you? Why do some people believe in the supernatural? Why doesn't magic exist? Why do we believe in a religion? Why don't I pray? Why do the questions always outnumber the answers?
Why are you still reading this?
*An offshoot of the Wishful Thinkers addictive staccato syle.

frontpage hit counter