The evidence against me..

>> Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Scarlett remembered me for a tag -its an honour in itself. I can never get tired of praising her. She is special and I second all that Asuph has written here...

Coming back to the tag in question. This is fun as it entails digging forgotten gems (in my case junks) and as others have rightly observed – its like bottling the old wine in new flavor.

Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given : family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like. Tag 5 friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better.

Yet again, I am late – though this required minimum effort in terms of writing.. finding the right post to match the key words was tough and 'linking' is still a massive task for me! Besides, I had caught the renovation bug all over again and wanted to give my old hut a new life and glitter :D Its fun playing with the template! Its too facile now and I’ve added all kinds of pictures on header footer left right center.

Talking about pictures -I’d unceasingly done tags but the only one I couldn’t complete was that of
Punds .
He rarely visits – but I wish to apologize. I couldn’t take up.. though I love pictures (looking at them) I’m clumsy with the camera. I did not click any photo last year. Since eons I'm stuck in Delhi and the last picture I clicked could well be three years old. I do have a 3-year-old camera phone, which is never used for taking pictures, is seldom used for talking and is regularly used as an alarm clock!

Anyway, of late I’d been doodling poetrics hence the posts linked here are from my older blog.

Family : There are no posts on family per say but casual references which aren’t specific but are thorough. Needless to say, I am a pampered spoilt brat and love my family to the core. My parents and sister (& latest additions- her kids) are both my strength and weakness. The scrabble (originally posted on
Sulekha ) which remotely qualifies was written when my sister was expecting her first child . That ‘event’ had generated a new sense to my blunted sensibilities.
Another family member mentioned regularly in various posts is - Don. Every phenomenal moment spent with him is incandescent with inextinguishable joy.
He is my everything ..

Friends : I don’t have friends. In the so-called real world I’ve lost contact with everyone. I remember certain faces, livid, rapt in bemused oblivion, drifting into unknown. I’d sporadically cited
two girlfriends in earlier posts though presently I possess no knowledge of their whereabouts. Friendship is perhaps an art or maneuvering wherein I have no glowing records to showcase. The world at large, camaraderie, hangouts, sociability and all drat are part and parcel of an alien world, which for me has abruptly become sardonic.

Whenever my sister calls, her first question is – "how are your buddies?" Which means – Amitabh Bachchan and Sachin Tendulkar. They are
my best buddies . :D

(On second thoughts, blogging pals are my sole pals. Some of them have stopped visiting or visit occasionally – I’ll use this opportunity to tell them –
all of them are/were valued! )

Yourself : I’m megalomaniac, largely an apathetic woman who at times seems palpating with the forces of life. All my posts are full of nostalgic musings, recollections and are
an extension of me . Even the fictitious characters have my clamoring traits .

Love : Over the years of long spinsterhood, I’ve assembled an invisible ‘harem’ of had-beens and could-have-beens. I’d started 'blogging' in that
jilted lover kinda state. The hopelessness of everything had emblazoned it with exalted tones of great passion. It was cathartic and I can say for sure - its over and done with! I retain a visceral memory of him- it persists as one of that reminiscence in which sound and scent are preserved but no objective context.

Twice since, I’d perceived I was close to ‘loving’ again but fortunately or unfortunately I
failed! Though passion blooms rarely in my garden – it holds that midsummer fullness. I’m still searching – and waiting for the moment when from beautiful and wanton – I’ll turn handsome and acceptable ..

[My latest crush is the guy who plays Ram in the new Ramayan aired on NDTV imagine. (yeah - I watch it regulary) I don't know his name. I could say he is hot but in fact - he looks godly.]

Anything : My scribbles reflect the phases of multitudinous emotions that have assailed me off and on.. each one is special in its way but I’d like to link something from my first ever blogging site. This is the
first story I'd posted online. Its raw.. it can do with some editing and more spice . .but I think this and this were some creative attempts that I could have improved upon.

I know most people don’t like being tagged. I don’t want to force anyone.

If I had my way –
I’d like to tag
Punds , Dredger , Nidhi , Ashen Glow and Hotice .

If you guys are already tagged OR don’t wish to comply – take it easy – I can assure you its fun but the rest is upto you!

Note for readers - If someone is still reading, I encourage you to check them out. They are wonderful writers. :)

"A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day" [ED]

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Seven kinds of nonsense..

>> Friday, February 8, 2008

Over the years, I’ve become an expert on my myriad failures of self-knowledge. I did not intend to write anything and I am not exactly ‘writing’ .. I read few blogs after a long time today and wanted to post ‘something’. The inability to write speaks eloquently about my basic design flaw. The fact remains that our most potent and necessary dreams can derive from simple misunderstanding. I was slow to comprehend that my dream of becoming a ‘writer’ actually was a mask for more urgent need - to escape failures .. the insistent everyday failures .. from there on the pen, or rather the keyboard lay dead under my cramped fingers. It is as if all the letters of the alphabet, all combinations of letters into words, all the infinite possibilities of written language has ceased to exist.

What’s wrong in reveling in failures? Most of us remain children all our lives, perpetually attracted to all wrong things, repeatedly falling for everything that is cheap and superficial. I’ve discovered the intense pleasures inherent in defeat and I practice failure which forever shall remain my sole grace. There is perverse pleasure in pain, in suffering and even in humiliation. The need to make a romance out of ugly reality is a basic human craving and also the accompanying need to disguise whatever form of truth is scattered about us.. "Truth" infact is a windowless place where the light can come only through cracks.

Something else I’m blind to, seems to be loneliness, which we desire yet despair and that forces us to endure terrible humiliations and indulge into meaningless relationships. You had no life to begin with and the world is small, dusty maze of clapboard and neon, crawling with strangers and to most of us it yields only loneliness, however we may have swaggered down its avenues. There wasn’t enough life to go around with, whatever delights it held would remain the secrets of those who had found them first but if you are young, shy and not entirely sure what you were looking for anyway, it is a deary place. You can hang around blogs, chatrooms, or meander outside a pub and settle for insipid pleasures of sex and booze or you can aimlessly prowl through the dark back streets of real or virtual world, where all you meet as a rule are other loners on an equally aimless prowl. You can ask each other ‘what you want?’ only to be told that they don’t know.. perhaps cruise around for a while.. and so you cruise around, likewise though you knew from the onset that so and so was a horrible mistake to begin with and will only pile on your life of searing regret. You endure this as you clearly know the alternative – a solitary exstence. Soon, the customary small talk of cordiality and endearment seems inadequate, unsuited to the strange well-being you had become accustomed to in discordance. It concludes one day, as expected, leaving you naked, both literally and metaphorically, vulnerable… right there, where your thin veneer of self-confidence was stripped away, revealing you stark.. panic-stricken .. more lonely than ever before. Usually you get drunk, get sick and be thankful that you’d be hitting back alone with the promise of a different ‘new day.’

Your emotional life becomes ingrown. The orderly rotation of many careful moods is your life, or rather what your life has become. You manage it well, and it is only rarely, looking very closely at your face, if anyone bothers that is, one can see how much the effort is costing you. You go through the daily chores mechanically, sit alone through the weekends and evenings with a drink, allowing your mind to slide into a heavy, gin-fuddled confusion. Only one persistent thought comes through, a piece of self-advice that is as clear and cold as the drink that rises again and again to your lips. Hold on. No matter, whats in store tonight or tomorrow, just hold on.

The shape of every following day is an articulate statement of impending defeat. You can blame it on luck. Aah .. life screwed you and its luck which made you a loser but its something you wanted to be without knowing it. Regardless of your inclination to believe in luck as the prime determiner of human destiny, both good and bad fortune are largely an illusion. Most of us are uniquely desinged to mistake good luck for bad and vice versa. So, you stand among the messy possibilities with the look of someone surveying new fields to conquer and an odd mix of rejuvenation and relief. You can never understand what’s happening to you, and also lack the ability to sort things out upon reflection afterwards ergo you make same mistakes all over again.


The worst terror still remains .. of ending up all alone in the world, and so you keep on trying to smile. Others smile back.. will their smile of rejection always drop you into despair and their smiles of welcome lead only into new, worse, more terrible ways of breaking your heart? Duh? Now its going to be fucking straight, no more big talks, no romantic claptrap and fictitious heroes. Peel away those layers of self-deception and discover that you can swap this dreamy world with something that is more ‘earthy’.. within your reach.. if dreams give purpose and direction to otherwise mundane existence, why are they doomed to fail? Even the modest dreams fail like the grand ones.. from now on you’ll carry a stately bearing, determined that for the rest of your life you’ll keep everything down and quiet inside you so that neither of these stangers can sense your anguish. Casting aside your pusillanimity, you are eager to embrace the next moving creature though you wont let them 'inside' you, deep inside where everything you say has another side to it .. (like you expect, hidden somewhere is a secret, a philosopher’s stone masquerading as a precious elixir disguised as a dimwit.)

All isn’t lost .. loneliness is no longer new and bitterness is the fashionable mood .. you don’t ‘feel’ young and the ones around you can acknowledge that the rest of you is rapidly aging too. You still hope to find someone someday.. you sit there waiting, watching the fog grow thicker. In the trees along the trail, a vision you’d both praying and dreading comes. Somewhere there’s a blank inside, a blotting out, an ablation, though of what I can’t commence to speculate .. can’t even know if I’m making sense with this qualm or whimsically compiling my ignorance. One night when worse pain will set in, you’ll pretend to ‘settle’ with someone your so-called well-wishers had arranged for .. sooner or later you accept its good for you.. and why not? You’ll be together a pair of blanks. If you want to know the truth, it sucks. Plunge in pour forth. Together you’ll formulate a grand hypothesis explaining each other how emotional stimulation between two people initiate a cascade of signals that collectively may result in the bond known as love. You’ll stick around ..and you’ll keep telling each other that you are in love for both know that neither of you had nowhere else to go. ..

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