slim

children don't see what their parents see:
the same mistakes, made by half of the same blood
cells that they helped make and want to perfect

what they don't know is, they were also young
that everyone makes mistakes so they have regrets when old
children bring misery to *all* parents, not just you

cells combine, make a person, a freak accident mixture of two people
what could possibly go right with that?
what are the odds you'll have a great kid?

they're slim, i'll tell you.
real.
slim.

i'd know. i'm one of these kids.

pandora

Chaos.
Complete pandemonium.
He opened Pandora’s box.
Let loose a monster
Who was once an apsara
Radiating light.

Love is supposed to heal, she thought,
Not unleash my demons.
Her bubbles of venom spewed forth,
Dispelled love thoughts lay smashed on the floor.

She looked back at them.
Returned to grind them deeper into the ground.
Nothing is as empowering as revenge,
Icy cold revenge, she found.

let's not talk

I have learnt it’s always better to keep things to yourself. Never mind if it weighs you down, never mind that you cry alone, never mind that you see people proclaiming their bowel movements on the internet and in office but you keep mum about most of your life. It’s the simplest, and best, thing to do. And these days with the effing internet, you never know when someone is going to put something up in a secret entry on a blog, or make a vague reference on a status message or god knows what.

I like keeping my secrets well, secret. No, I don’t have issues. It doesn’t mean I don’t love my friends and family, or that I don’t trust them, or that I’m weighed down by my private thoughts etc. It just means I like sorting out stuff on my own. It’s easier. When I want opinions, I ask. That itself, sadly, finds me in not very pleasant situations, albeit only sometimes.

I need my friends and family. I love them to pieces. So like I said, when I'm in supremely dire straits, I will seek help. I'm always afraid though, that if I do, people will be too busy with their life to give me a hand. And may go crazy helping me and supplying me with constant pearls of wisdom -- and may ask me to break down all my walls in their enthusiasm to help. My walls are a part of who I am. There’s a reason they’re there. It’s warped logic, but it *is* logic. I don’t think I’ll ever meet that one fictitious person supposed to break down all of a person’s walls with one look or kiss. If I do, I’ll probably laugh my ass of instead of doing any tiring labour work.

I like putting up a brave exterior even when I feel like a dark cloud about to spew thunder and endless water on an unsuspecting planet. And I like writing about it, or sweating it out at dance/on a treadmill, crying my eyes over it behind a firmly locked door much to my Labrador’s consternation, and annoying people by not telling them what’s going on. I like trying to work it out on my own. I think I’m fairly intelligent and logical, and when I’m not feeling so, I may ask for a second opinion, one that is rational. But it’s difficult to explain, and too close to my heart to be analysed by ones that do not know all the workings of my mind and thus my life. And really, I can handle it. I always have and have been through the very worst on my own.

So really, make what you want of me. If you think I’m a certain way because of you, sorry to disappoint, but that’s not true. It’s because of my own past and the way I've constructed myself. If I get drunk and cry, I’m sorry, it doesn't mean I'm weak or dying to talk; it's the alcohol. If I don’t say much when you’re pouring your heart out, I’m sorry. But I do listen well and damn, I analyse well. I’m sorry I annoy you with “I don’t wanna talk about it”; I really don't.

Sorry for it all, but I doubt it’s going to change, so let's try and deal with it.

remember me

I think I can now fathom those statements made in my BA English classes about art, specifically theatre, leading to catharsis in the audience. And now I appreciate art a little bit more. Or rather I’m reminded why I love some forms of art – music, movies, whatever.

I saw this movie which made me cry. Not small sympathetic or empathetic tears, but the way I strangely, and without explanation, broke down in school near the evening tiffin after I read the Harry Potter book in which Sirius Black dies and Potter loses his godfather.

Losing a biological parent and never having a replacement is not something one can simply ignore. Usually you can. But sometimes – only sometimes if you’re a tough nut – you are reminded of it. Or rather, it is pointed out to you that you are different from others in this regard, that you have feelings you forgot existed [or maybe never knew existed]. And you wonder: will they ever go away; will I ever forgive that parent for inflicting xyz on the other, remaining parent, on my sibling; will I ever forgive him for not leaving me a normal kid, for leaving me with daddy issues the size of the Arctic, forever?

And then one remembers – everything happens for the best. [this is something one can only appreciate in hindsight.]

Life is always so strange, so bloody unpredictable. We try to predict it by getting our palms read, by reading our horoscopes, by making plans for the future, charting out things we want to do, by creating bubbles around ourselves and only letting a few things inside, by visiting psychologists, or we try to avoid it by eating our favourite pizza, by getting drunk, by popping a Valium and sleeping for 15 hours…. But we can’t escape life, or its unpredictability and seeming callousness towards us.

It’s always there. Always changing. It’s always gonna trip us, make us realize we have feelings we didn’t know about, make us cry for joy, want to freeze a moment, help someone cross the road, scratch someone’s eyes out, and so many other things I don’t even know about.

I don’t know what I’m saying or trying to get at. I’m not saying I believe in fate or destiny. It’s hard to believe in anything or anyone these days. But I’m beginning to believe that if something hurts us, it’s for a reason.

We’ll figure out the godforsaken reason later, sometimes never if we don’t keep our eyes open… but if we wait long enough, there’s always a reason for every shitty incident in our life, every crappy person we meet – we maybe blind to the reason or logic [if you can call it that]. But it’s there somewhere.

I don’t know if there’s ever just one obvious reason – but it’s like forgetting something. Suddenly one day when you stop thinking, racking your brains to remember what it is, it comes back to you. And you smile. For the first time that whole day, a genuine smile. For yourself, not for anyone else. And you feel happy. And if you can’t think of anyone you can share the forgotten thought with, someone who’ll understand its significance or randomness, it doesn’t mean you’re friendless, lonely and will die alone. It probably means you just need a moment alone to be grateful on your own – remind yourself you exist for yourself. Not for others.

It’s easy to forget that sometimes, that it’s alright to be alone once in a way even in the age of Facebook and microblogging. At some point, even I forgot.

**I realise Gandhi Jayanti is a strange day to remember I should live for myself but I hope Gandhi gets what I mean. I still intend on helping helpless little animals [I’m not a people person] but humans, well, never mind. No offense, Gandhi.

amazing

so the Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week is to honour someone I think is amazing. one part of me thought, nah I can't do them justice. there was another part which didn't know what the definition of 'amazing' was because I realised I know a lot of fabulous people. finally, it occurred to me that not one of them is a heterosexual male.

I'm wondering when that will change and who it'll be.

the joke

... that is the "media" today (ah so we used the wrong picture. so what?)

... that is "professionalism" today (read extended whisper conversations/g talk conversations at any office)

... that is "nature" today (extensive global warming and volcanoes erupting in ICE-land)

... that is the "economy" today (extensive global warming and we worry about airlines' losses)

... that is "priesthood" today (masses of abortions, mothers paid for their silence and children molested)

... that is "politics" today (a rally undertaken for price rise and the media pays no heed, but says it disrupted traffic. what about price rise?)

... that is today's "politician" (shashi tharoor. enough said)

... that is "humanity" today (buying a pedigree boxer, sterilising him and throwing him on the streets, to the mercy of speedy traffic, because the procedure went wrong)

... that is "love" today (where do I begin: valentine's day? no, wait: fighting or making up over text messages. or even sexting, which I now learn is sex over text messages)

... that is "marriage" today (pretending you did not marry someone earlier, so you can marry an unsuccessful but notorious tennis star)

... that is "domestic help" today (a maid who raises your bp, talks back to you, and anyway you can sweep your house better than she can)

... that is "writing" today (a three-word poem. come on!)

... that is "office politics" today (you, z, have slept with x and y, who are friends, but broke up with both so they began the "we hate z" club)

... that is "saving tigers" today (putting them in reserves and being paid off by locals so they can bring on the poaching)

... that is "sports" today (IPL. enough said. no, wait. 20-20 cricket. you disagree? go on. let it rip)

... that is a "friend" today (she is on your facebook and you can't stand her guts [read, you both slept with the same guy and she's jealous of you because she thinks he ended it with her because he's into you, not literally, but the truth is he's just an ass] but everytime you remove her from your friends list, she adds you again, or contacts you because she wants publicity for said "boyfriends" professional ventures. oh yes, she works for him now)

... that is "family" today (they love you because you're worth 1,500 crores)

... that is "entertainment" today (watching anorexic models squealing on television because someone chopped off their hair while they slept or asked them to get ready for a marionette shoot and they don't know what that means)

... that is "blogging" today (rants like these. yes, this is a rant. was i so subtle that you didn't realise? i'm sure. [yes, sarcasm.])

blogger's note: is not mad at the reader [if there are any] so please refrain from feeling offended. is just having another fabulous day at office.

young and restless

Adventure. Hmm. It seems that my life seriously lacks any adventure at the moment. But someone very close to me is embarking on what is possibly life’s biggest adventure – marriage.

Yup, my sister is getting married this month. Which is why I’ve decided not to indulge in any Nanowrimo or anything of the sort, because it’s quite possible she might disown me if I pay my writing more attention than her wedding. Fair enough. People get married only once. Erm. Well, most people. And I’m hoping my sister is one among the ‘most’. I’m sure the lovely couple will run into enough hurdles [they already have!] but well, nobody ever said marriage was easy. Hence I say… adventure.

As for why my life lacks any adventure… I’m not quite sure. I’m working myself to the bone but for some reason it’s no enough. And it’s not even “work” per say. I “work” only three days a week. The rest of the week has gone in attending Odissi class or reading [I’m reading a lot of late] or shopping for the wedding, or something of the sort. But for the past few months, something has been missing. I’m in cynical overdrive and there are a few moments of light, but otherwise I’m just plain bored or pondering over extremely philosophical things.

I need change. I know it won’t happen soon. A couple of years perhaps. But I need a different city, a change in lifestyle… something or the other. A change of friends maybe? I really don’t know. I love Chennai. The culture, the beaches, the people [well, most of them at least], the food, my friends, my home and whatnot. But I’m getting seriously restless, and I don’t know why. I need some adventure. Ahem some non-opposite sex-related adventure. A new phone, new dog or new job will just not do. I was thinking I’d save up and go do that masters in Creative Writing that I’ve been dreaming of for a while now. That would also take another couple of years though. Maybe I’ll just have to wait. After all, it’s not like adventure will drop into my lap. I’m going to have to find it on my own. But, in Chennai?! Where?!

For now it’ll have to be my sister’s wedding and the giant lot of relatives and friends my mother and I will be meeting after many, many moons. Family reunions can be fun, right? I hear snorts. It was a rhetorical question; please try to be a tad supportive. Sigh.

10 steps to being an adult

1. Nobody cares about your problems. Except you. If they appear to, it’s because they want something from you. So get a grip and stop whining.
2. Even if they don’t care and pretend to (or not), don’t hate them. It’s not their fault they’re materialistic, scummy humans.
3. You know what. Don’t hate anybody. Ever. There’s no point and you are simply wasting your time and energy. Be the bigger person.
4. The above does not mean allowing people to treat you like their door mat when it pours for 40 days and 40 nights. Be, well, a grown up about it!
5. Expect nothing. From anyone. Even your parents. (Unless you have exceptional parents)
6. If you’re single, it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. Do you really want to be like the friend who’s been in an abusive relationship for five years but can’t get out, purely because her boyfriend is like a drug habit she can’t kick? Be single. Enjoy it.
7. If you’re in the above relationship, you know what the next step is.
8. Work politics, politics between friends, family politics… get away from it all. It’s too bloody complicating and you lose track of who you’re telling what lies to.
9. Do yoga. Seriously. Why do old people get into yoga or meditation? They’re not boring. They’re realized they’ve wasted the first 50 years of their lives getting into crappy relationships or getting involved in painful politics, and they want to get away from it all. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.
10. Learn how to cook if you don’t know. And for God’s sake get a job and stand on your own two feet. Okay so that’s two points. Ah well, who said adults could count.

tonight i can write...

Insomnia.

It's horrible.

Restlessness.

Even worse.

Combine both and you have a recipe for disaster.

While my mother is away and my sister and dog are snoring across the hall, I sit and waste time, looking at the minutes pass me by. Precious minutes wasted. I cannot write. I'm too tired. I think. Far too much. And I worry even more. I wonder, do we ever live in the present or are we always stuck in the past or looking to the future?

I can't even read because I'm too sleepy to focus. And the two or three friends I have left in the universe are deeply sleeping. I'm thinking about a Pablo Neruda poem I heard in school and came across again a few weeks ago. I wish I could write like that. And I will keep wishing.
If you haven't read any of Neruda's work, life is incomplete. I think even if you've never been in love, if you read Neruda's work, you'll find out about love and loss. Sigh.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

mercury rising

It’s April and it’s already four degrees above the normal temperature where I live. In more ways than one. The world is truly coming to an end… we’re going to melt or drown very soon. So is our so-called democracy. I’m not going to preach or grumble about the media or democracy or elections or politicians… I’m going to sit back, eat some really juicy mangoes, and watch the fun unfold like I’m watching a really bad episode of Heroes. What can I say… I’m hooked to the news now. Unfortunately. And the news here is very bad. In fact it’s inspiring a lot of satirical writing from my end. In between juggling mangoes, the television remote and my laptop though I will also find time to go out and cast my first ever vote, in the coming parliamentary elections. Yes, maybe it’ll be a debacle. Maybe it already is a complete farce and debacle. Okay, it IS. Who am I kidding. But I will vote anyway. As a citizen of this godforsaken democracy. If I don’t care why should the politicians or media care. Damn.. Sorry. And I said I wouldn’t preach.

It’s just that my job involves reporting aforementioned debacles. A job which has taken over my life. That’s nothing new. My work in newspapers itself made me disappear from people’s lives for weeks. Television however is a totally different ballgame. A violent and extreme one at that. Call me a typical print journalist, but I haven’t been able to stomach television media. In my country at least. It’s not only bought all my time, it’s bought my entire life. My friends don’t know I’m alive… let me re-phrase… I have no friends who aren’t reporters now. And my mother actually asked me to quit so she could see me once in a way and put some fat on my bones. Which I’m glad to say I’ve done. [gasp again]. Which brings me to what am I going to do next? I don’t know [bigger gasp?]

Just because I’ve not posted anything on my blog in nearly [gasp!] a month, it does not mean I’m not writing. I have been. So joy to the world! It’s made me very happy, as well as sad. I’m now left wondering how on earth to make a profession out of this when I know nothing whatsoever about how to write or who to sell my writing to. Ahem, if anyone wants it that is. Currently on my plate are [wait, I’m counting] five, yes five, pieces of writing I need to complete asap. Not bad for someone who hadn’t touched pen and paper in almost two years. I have a miles to go before I sleep, though. Literally. And since I’m still working my notice period I have to juggle a 24/7 job and five incomplete scripts. Sigh. It’s April and it’s already four degrees above the normal temperature. I hope I can take the heat.

cup of jealousy, anyone?

The green- eyed monster that lives in your brain now found (Mail Today)

It is a vice that few can avoid but that nobody craves. The area of the brain which controls jealousy has been found, scientists said. It is the same part which detects physical pain - perhaps explaining why feeling envious of your lover’s philandering ways hurts so much. The spot which makes people delight in others’ misfortune - called schadenfreude - was also located by the team. “ It’s interesting that the part of the brain which detects physical pain is also associated with mental pain,” said Hidehiko Takahashi, who led the research.

Copyright © Mail Today 2008.

--

Just an interesting thought. Since we all have philandering lovers at one point or another.

South Indian tradition

Bells ringing as Paati does her morning chants.

Anklets chiming, as the dancer next door warms up.

The neighbour with freshly washed hair circles her tulsi plants,

The bride entering her new home, tipping over the traditional rice cup.

Ma teaching my sister how to tie a sari,

As Hindustani music lessons begin downstairs.

The new bride fingering her almost sacred thaali,

Wondering if it’s the answer to her prayers.

22 and never been kissed,

Waiting for her husband to look her way.

Unsuspecting about his midnight tryst,

Believing every word her in-laws say.

Culture, music, dance, prayer,

Freshly brewed coffee, the smell of jasmine.

There are some things beautiful about South Indian tradition.

But not the 22-year-old with a 35-year-old-womanising husband.

November rain

The branch sways like flimsy lace,

Tears pouring down its rugged face.

Doors banging open and shut,

Thunder rolling in the power cut.

Grey skies, clouds flying,

My dog in her corner, crying.

Darkness consumes my home,

As I ignore the world and my phone.

Hard, heavy, cold rain,

Hoping it’ll wash away the pain,

The boredom, frustration, the grey.

But it’s the rain who wins the fray.

Slashing against helpless glass panes,

The city handicapped as it rains.

The November rain ushering in

A New Year; maybe one without anymore sin.

Huddled watchmen, empty roads,

The crisp air filling my pores.

It’s not so bad, I think.

Bringing me back from the brink.

Where I nearly fell into a pit again,

An abyss where I won’t have a friend.

Lyrics of a song flash through my head,

Thoughts of a new beginning consume me instead.

I step back from the black hole,

From people who suck out my soul.

The dogs frolic in the water,

A mother screams for her daughter.

The wind continues to rage against the tree,

But this time it’s to make her free.

My phones buzzes, power returns.

Something in the distance my dog discerns.

I ignore the buzzing and the light.

Make my way back into my thoughts, the deep night.

inconvenience

A loves making her mother cry.

B has a penis he calls Rudolph.

C would like to watch movies for free.

D does not tell people about his father.

E wants to be an astronaut.

F is in the ICU with her dying grandmother.

G is quitting her job because her boss wants her to sleep with him.

H is drawing with the ash from the ashtray.

I hates Sachin Tendulkar.

J wants to cook for her boyfriend.

K is the best crime reporter in the city.

L feels neglected.

M hasn’t told anyone she masturbates.

N wants a happy marriage.

O cannot understand his girlfriend.

P thinks he maybe gay.

Q is trying to make a word where ‘u’ does not follow ‘q’. Try it.

R is getting drunk on the flight back from Adelaide. While serving her passengers.

S wishes she could tell the truth to the world.

T cannot beard to add her ex and his mistress on her Facebook list.

U wants to have a baby at 47. Hey, Madonna did it.

V is a lazy piece of &^% and he knows it.

W thinks about sex every 5 seconds.

X wishes she was a boy.

Y has slept with 76 women and lied to every one of them.

Z is uncomplicated. He is a zebra.

See how many people have issues? I’m going nuts. I need a break. I’m taking off for a while. Satan will take over till I’m back. Sorry for the inconvenience.

- God

change

i believe in change.

i believe if i cry today, i may laugh tomorrow.

i believe a friend may not always remain a friend.

i believe we must move on.

i believe the puddles we step in will dry tomorrow.

i believe the beautiful butterfly sitting on my hibiscus will die. soon.

i believe the artist’s work will be appreciated. at least after he dies.

i believe in animals. that they should rule the earth.

i believe she will get over it. and then there will be another.

i believe in a second coming.

i believe someone is going to bomb another city soon… change its skyline.

i believe change is the only constant in our lives.

i believe … in time.

i believe paris hilton will grow old and her butt will get wrinkled.

i believe i will grow up.

i believe in change...

i believe i can do better…

....far, far better.

i believe we deserve better.

i believe we can change the world.

no, not obama. we. us.

i believe it’s time for change.

no, i know it’s time for change.

….. so what am i waiting for?

counting down

10 things I hate about you- (author's note: this is random, names have been withheld, and no offense meant. really.)

1. your inability to admit when you’re wrong or full of crap

2. excuses, excuses, excuses

3. your smoking. get a room already

4. your excessive questions and not-so-subtle prying

5. your excessive syrup and fakeness

6. lying by omission

7. how you excel at everything you do (kudos to you though)

8. your vanishing act

9. the distance after you got a boyfriend (yes, yes, I am happy for you)

10. how you’re just like my father

9 things I would like to believe

1. not all men lie

2. I will find my niche

3. she doesn’t hate me

4. no, my grandparents aren’t watching me from heaven

5. people can’t see through me

6. I’m an ok daughter (as opposed to bad, black sheep)

7. I don’t have worms, just a really good metabolism

8. I’m not that selfish

9. my work makes a difference. to some people

8 things about me

1. sarcasm

2. my mom, dogs & other animals

3. lately… odissi

4. nonchalance (I try)

5. writing

6. ze curls

7. Madras (no, not Chennai)

8. the zen

7 things I want to do before I die

1. right the wrongs and find out if she really hates me

2. write a novel (maybe several)

3. travel all over India

4. adopt a child

5. find out what ‘true love’ means

6. find a man who doesn’t lie to me and loves me

7. make my mother proud

6 things I’ve thought about today

1. I want to do more cover stories

2. why’s he suddenly being nice? hmm

3. I want six weeks to pass queeeeckly

4. it’s not poetry, it’s just pseudo prose

5. I want to go back to sleep

6. I have to buy gifts

5 things I love

1. odissi!!!!!!! even waking up at 5 am for it

2. my dog waking me up

3. being transported to another world by a good movie / book

4. being able to drive myself around

5. Bengali food

4 things I consciously avoid doing

1. saying ‘hee’

2. telling people I don’t like or barely know stuff about myself

3. using smileys. ugh

4. talking like the people I sms too much

3 things I splurge on

1. books

2. beer

3. er… does filling fuel count?

2 things that make me sad

1. my dogs’ deaths

2. never having enough time with Dadu and never having met my grandfather

1 thing I need more of

1. self control

The X chronicles

I don’t get how men can ride on animals, especially during war.

Why men stare at me even when I’m inside my car.

Algebra, trigonometry, compound interest, quadratic equations,

Advanced technology side by side with inane superstitions.

I don’t get why women are masochists,

And how they handle men without using their fists.

Plastic surgery and I-love-Justin blogs,

People who don’t like (and eat) dogs.

I don’t get why movies are re-made,

Why people would want to die by a blade.

Why some people love the rain,

When all it does is sedate my brain.

I don’t get why we lie so much,

Why some people always like to touch.

I don’t get why people like to smoke.

How they can inhale and not choke.

I don’t get,

Pink bows, lacey tops,

How men always call the shots.

Britney Spears or Paris Hilton,

Different men each week who are smitten.

Freud and dream analysis,

How I’m related to my sis.

People who are beautiful and smart,

People who are perfect and don’t fart.

I don’t get me.

How suspicious I can be.

A maddening day

What do you do when you’re infuriated,
So infuriated you can’t hear yourself think.
When you have so many thoughts in your head,
You can’t find the adjective to describe yourself.
‘‘How was your day?’’
Okay.
Things are always ‘‘okay’’.
But then who asks about your day, pray tell.

What do you do when you realise you made a mistake,
Something which will change your life forever.
When you realise the other person was right, and just out to help you.
Do you push them away and keep lying to yourself?
Or do you right the wrong.
Well, the answer my friend is blowing in the wind.
It’s rather obvious.
‘‘Should is a good word,’’ said a very wise friend of mine.
But humans never do as they should.

‘‘Stop lying to yourself,’’ I told someone a long time ago.
Someone who used to be my friend. She didn’t stop.
‘‘You think too much.’’ Well, yes I do. But who else can I talk to but myself.

I want to be the fish swimming in the pond.
The fish I see twice a day, the fish who relaxes me
When I’m just having the worst day.
Money is over-rated.
Or maybe I just don’t have enough.
I’d rather be the penniless fish.
Living amidst the lotuses and algae.
With no predators around and plenty of food to eat.

I’m a predator. Sometimes.
I’m also the victim.
Does he realise that? Ah no.
Fang’s bark is worse than her bite.
I’m not lying anymore. It’s all very clear.
Crystal.
Clear what should be done.
Done a long time ago.
When she did the same thing.
Follow in her footsteps.
But no. When that part of her life died, she gave it to me.
I’m not strong enough to give away what I inherited.
But I have to learn.

Time is slipping away.
How much longer am I going to take?

What do you do when you have so many thoughts in your head,
You can’t hear yourself think straight.
What do you do when you’re so infuriated with yourself,
You have nobody but yourself to blame.

Stop pushing them away,
They’re only trying to help.
Snort.
Or maybe not.

What do you do when you don’t have time to find a new life?
A life you dream about.
It’s simple, really.
But the simplest things are the hardest to achieve.

Grey’s Anatomy. Strawberries with sugar.
Feeding Tommy.
Clean feet and a warm cup of coffee.
An ink pen with black ink and a sharpened pencil.
Washed hair.
Driving with only music as my companion.
Talking to Priya after weeks.
Getting to go for a show or read a book for free.
Making my mother happy.
Sanjana’s 17 different ways of giggling.
An uncomplicated bear hug.
Simplicity.
Simple joy.

It’s time for me to get my act together.
‘‘I think you deserve more.’’
Don’t we all.

Some...

Who knows what people think,
Why some are nice while others stink,
Why they laugh, why they cry,
Why they smile and why they lie.
Do you know why some do both at the same time?
Why some illuminate lives while others are mere grime?

Why do some never accept the truth,
Tis hard, but that’s life, forsooth.
Why do some paint grey in others’ lives,
Use their daggers, stab deep with knives.
Keep your grey to yourself alone,
Someday about you all will be known.

They say what goes around comes around,
What was alive once, has to go deep underground.
They live in the hope that this is true,
They live with hope; it takes away the blue.
Hope can mislead, can lead to disappointment,
Will you risk hoping and wait for contentment?

Some brush it off – “C’est la vie,
People are mad, leave them be”.
They move on, forget the past,
It’s over, they don’t let the pain last.
They go home, eat, work and sleep well,
Above the grey people do their souls dwell.

Some lose bits of their colour, soul and spirit,
They weep inside trying not to let others know it.
Ouside it’s “C’est la vie, unaffected is me”,
Inside the hurt and rage twists; others cannot see.
Forgive not, forget-it-not, secret pain is the worst,
With steel exteriors, tender interiors, such people are cursed.

So which one are you, or which one do you want to be.
Who will you let inside, how many people will really see?

Love comes with its own terms and conditions,
Lovers lie, proclaim love, have a private list of sins.
Friends judge, want what you have; they also lie.
Sometimes you’ll wish they would all just die.
People, they come and they go, but you go on forever.
Malaise may remain.. but never become one of the grey. Never.