si(mp)ngleton's blotter

>> Sunday, December 14, 2008

Despite my secret suspicion that summer would never end, winter did eventually come trickling in, with it, the time of frozen words. They had given expressive shape to my inarticulated despair but the shocking realization of helplessness drive me to the episodes of wild and reckless rage. Nothing is more uncomfortable than silence when speech is expected. I poke somberly through the content of this dead machine, various sites, the pages I relished reading, unfinished stuff I’d once written passionately, most of which appear beyond my taste. Then I just stare at the monitor, listening to the sound of the birds chirping outside and the rustle of leaves. At length slowly the light begins to fade around me and I remember the book I’d been reading, which lies yonder in the darkness. Muttering scraps and bits of poetic afterward like sparks flaring in a dying fire I turn, and start to back off, tardy at first then with gradually rising haste, until my wobbly steps are clambering along through the accumulating shadows.

Love.. where is love now? After a long pause of hesitation I decide to read that book. It’s a love-story of Empress Noorjahan a.k.a. Mehrunissa and Mughal Emperor Jahangir, a historical love-story or somesuch. Love is all about scheming, plotting, betrayal and blah .. Why should something that ancient take me back to my very own sins? Everything putrid in the past just jumps off and falls away. The ‘exs and ys’, what happened and why. Who want to bite into you like you’re a fresh cool plum and after they have bitten sucked and chewed they expect your juices to come back and stay sweet. All their falseness was real or was there an excitement in creating this effect. I’d probably never know the answer and as though what had enthralled me from the start was the question. Ugh. I need a muse. I gaze at the poor penciled words, same and different, like a figure in the wallpaper and outside the pigeons twitter down the sky and up singing the old skyey sounds of spring and where was love.

It can be found again. Towards those to whom I feel no strong sentiment I gravitate where sentiment exists I run. There is the dense kernel, the compacted core, and how to set loose the chain reaction is the question that tantalizes me, how to produce the illuminating explosion without in the process mutilating oneself. Impossible.

Its almost easier being down and alone than when you’re up and no one’s there to share the view with you. Maniacs like me are supposed to be famous for expecting disaster around every corner from good luck, but now I do have my hopes up, a little whiskey would have this mess straightened out by the next weekend. I need some distraction. The ache isn’t as sharp but there is a warm throbbing that comes with my heartbeats, which are faster than normal maybe because I am smoking practically one cigarette after another.

Aimlessness thrills me. A slight shift in the breeze could fix my direction or alter it. It might as well be the enigma life presents or exactly what am I trying to tell? I know, nobody can really figure out. Nor can I. But I’d try again ..

"Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time..."
John Keats
"Ode on a Grecian urn"


Before I end..

Here is big thank you, to two wonderful bloggers for some more awards..

Sashu for the Butterfly Award

Rakesh Vanamali for the Butterfly and Proximidade awards

Thanks a heap guys and ..

thank you, each one of you, who still visit this dead page off and on.
Apologies for not responding on time.


Pushkar Arora December 14, 2008 at 4:26 AM  

Good to see you back.

Nash December 14, 2008 at 9:26 AM  

Hello there Aria. Glad to read your refreshing post after so many days. I hope you are going to be regular. Missed visiting your blog. Welcome back.

asuph December 14, 2008 at 8:37 PM  

when I saw your comment on my old post, I was glad to see that's you're out of your hibernation. i was hoping you'd have written too, and there it was!

However much I like your poems, lately, your prose has been as mesmerizing, if not more.

Welcome back,

Casperbaba December 14, 2008 at 10:21 PM  

hi aria,

i repeat the same words i tell everysingle time you pour your feelings out. I so very relate to every word you have scribbled here.

but somehow i got the feeling that the words in this post of yours remained a little scrambled. may be the state of organised confusion or may be its just me.

but, i simply loved it!


Quackster December 14, 2008 at 11:09 PM  

Thanks for visiting! Glad to see you are writing. The block might yet soon dissipate. Good luck!

hotICE December 15, 2008 at 1:54 AM  

Ah! finally.... where have you been madamoiselle? Y were you bent on boosting my ego, by proving I infect ppl with my unmatchable performance of the Houdini? :P

And by the way, reading the post, I was taken back to the thoughts of my own exs n ys... and as written, I ended up smoking one cig after another, despite having a cold (which is why I am anticipating the "normal" chest congestion)

Anyway, good to see you back and I hope to see more of you.

goatman December 15, 2008 at 12:41 PM  

You try again and I read again happy for your words. This sadness seems now pervasive among many of us -- some attribute it to the dark side of the solstice. But your flowery twisty description is a joy to read even if your pain is described (that makes no sense)

When did they rename Bombay? When the bombs happened I didn't know where Mombai was--Africa maybe.
Is nothing constant??

Rakesh Vanamali December 16, 2008 at 9:29 PM  


Wow! You are back with a bang! Its good to see your post after what seemed like ages!

Many Congratulations on the awards!

You deserve them!



Inconsequential December 18, 2008 at 3:35 AM  

Dead pages are always worth a visit

aria December 23, 2008 at 9:49 PM  

Pushkar.. Thank you, just half-back. :D

Nash.. Thank you, hope you'd been well.

Asuph.. thanks a heap. I had been reading some pages regularly, yours included, though silently.

Casper.. I am not sure about the organized bit, but I had been confused all my life which should certainly reflect in my writing :D Thank you, good to see your comment, after a long time.

Quackster.. Thank you for everything.

aria December 23, 2008 at 9:57 PM  

Hotice.. I trust your health has improved.. and the chest has cleared..:| Do take care and write something soon on your blog, thank you for your lovely comment.

Goatman.. thank you so much for your kind words and everything makes perfect sense.
As for Mumbai.. been a while since they renamed certain cities here. It has more to do with local politics than anything else. It does seem that nothing remains constant.

Rakesh.. thank you very much, for your appreciation and also for the award.

Inconsequential.. that was really well-said. :) Thanks a lot.

vi December 27, 2008 at 8:09 PM  

Good to see you back hon! Happy new year!

d gypsy! December 28, 2008 at 4:06 AM  


good to see you back.

exs n wys...lemme not reflect on them :)

parikrama December 29, 2008 at 6:19 PM  


I was cutoff from virtual world for 15 days. I was in Mumbai. Now back to the grind.

We should meet on YM , bohot din huay aap se baat karke :) Hope you and Don are both doing well.

Wishing you a contentment filled new year :)

aria December 30, 2008 at 1:32 AM  

Vi.. thanks so much.. I am so happy to see you.. :) wishing you too.. a great 2009. 'Still waiting' for your new posts.

Neha.. I hear you! :) glad to see your comment, thanks.

IW.. Aah.. aapko dekhkar badi khushi huyi.. maine socha aap idhar ka raasta bhool hi gaye. Btw.. its wednesday tomorrow .. so maybe we can catch up like ole days. I'll write to you. thanks for visiting..

Alok December 30, 2008 at 7:59 PM  

This was an enjoyable read ....

The way you wrote this mirrors so many of our lives ...

"Aimlessness thrills me" ... one couldn't have said it better


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