Date: 31.01.2008
Time: 10:40 p.m.
My frozen fingers tucked away
From the vestiges of a shy sun’s rays
Shun the warmth of living blood
And loathe the heat of a woollen flood.
My frozen fingers inspired by
The frigid force of coldness numb
Break free from the sense of touch
Found despicable to a degree much.
My frozen fingers kept beyond
The reach of tactless human touch
Speak in ice-cold frosty tones
Unthawed by feeling, lost even in bones.
My frozen fingers forever cold
Stiff, and curled, and kept in folds
Protect a fractured, meandering soul
That reaches out vainly to feel whole.
End: 10:55 p.m.
Thursday, 31 January 2008
Toilet Humour
LD happens to be a very disgusting person. Her classmates can also be gross. The conversation that you will now be forced to read (owing to the suspense and all those supreme literary devices that LD has built up so far) is with reference to a certain laboratory experiment conducted for the pursuit of higher knowledge. You have time enough to turn back and run for your propriety if you’re one who has good manners and believes in them. You have been warned. Here it comes ... brace yourself.
10:50 a.m.
VB: (very happy) My water has potty in it!
MMM: (about an allergic DM) She’s scratching herself all over!
VB: (to RD) You have potty in your body?
RD: Your pond has the best potty.
Class: (to LD) Your pond does not seem to have potty in it.
KP: (disgusted) Ei, chup! All of you talking about potty!
11:00 a.m.
LD: I have to post this. It’ll show the world how disgusting I am.
VB: Only you?
LD: No, we.
VB: We’re the potty people. Perfect potty people.
Ship’s reaction after LD read out the conversation to her was this.
10:50 a.m.
VB: (very happy) My water has potty in it!
MMM: (about an allergic DM) She’s scratching herself all over!
VB: (to RD) You have potty in your body?
RD: Your pond has the best potty.
Class: (to LD) Your pond does not seem to have potty in it.
KP: (disgusted) Ei, chup! All of you talking about potty!
11:00 a.m.
LD: I have to post this. It’ll show the world how disgusting I am.
VB: Only you?
LD: No, we.
VB: We’re the potty people. Perfect potty people.
Ship’s reaction after LD read out the conversation to her was this.
Ship: What crap, what potty!
xD
xD
Sunday, 27 January 2008
O Dreamy Weather!
Date: 27.01.2008
Time: 7:25 p.m.
Raindrops clinging onto dear life from
The arms of stone washed by the sky
Moved the lips and eyes to smile
Of a dismal face, resigned and dry.
Sounds and smells of a cold day’s glory
Lead to thoughts conjured out of rain,
Laughing eyes learnt of hearing
While her soul frolicked on another plane.
The chill set her free from monotony’s hold
As the winds spoke of new hope disguised,
Those sweet drops descending swiftly marked
A mind with glee so preciously prized.
Swaying leaves greener than ever
Sang of survival, drowning out the roar
A twinkle was noticed among dull greys
That were flooded with colours never seen before.
Winter rain took its one victim —
A young heart offered to the shower’s spell,
Her soul will roam with winds that beckon
Away from where the slavish dwell.
End: 7:45 p.m.
Time: 7:25 p.m.
Raindrops clinging onto dear life from
The arms of stone washed by the sky
Moved the lips and eyes to smile
Of a dismal face, resigned and dry.
Sounds and smells of a cold day’s glory
Lead to thoughts conjured out of rain,
Laughing eyes learnt of hearing
While her soul frolicked on another plane.
The chill set her free from monotony’s hold
As the winds spoke of new hope disguised,
Those sweet drops descending swiftly marked
A mind with glee so preciously prized.
Swaying leaves greener than ever
Sang of survival, drowning out the roar
A twinkle was noticed among dull greys
That were flooded with colours never seen before.
Winter rain took its one victim —
A young heart offered to the shower’s spell,
Her soul will roam with winds that beckon
Away from where the slavish dwell.
End: 7:45 p.m.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
Unleashed
If it were possible to shut out every individual I know: family, friends, acquaintances, everybody, then I’d do that, lock myself somewhere remote and never venture outside to see the light of day again. There would be no need for masks or facades to disguise a face contorted with misery or disgust and I wouldn’t have to bother with sugar-coating my words so as not to hurt people’s feelings EVER again.
The truth can be used brutally and cruelly. Sometimes, at present for instance, I want to hurt people with the truth, knowing the full extent of the injuries that I will cause. I want to be devastatingly and cruelly honest and destroy something with uninhibited rage that, for once, I shall leave unchecked.
I want to live. Not be restrained by the norms of ‘civilised’ behaviour, or considerations for people I care for. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to feel remorse for any of my well-meaning actions that have not turned out the way I expected them to. I don’t want to feel guilty for being unresponsive to people I like when they’re only trying to reach out to me. I just want to be aloof and forget all about existence and get a chance to live in my own frame of time.
I’d like to feel the full potential of my anger ... and every emotion that I’ve had to lock away to keep myself in check. I want to shout till I am hoarse and throw a tantrum like a small child who yells and screams when denied something. What is the point of having the faculty of speech if you have to guard your tongue constantly?
I would like to feel, without ever feeling sorry for myself or the fact that I feel.
The truth can be used brutally and cruelly. Sometimes, at present for instance, I want to hurt people with the truth, knowing the full extent of the injuries that I will cause. I want to be devastatingly and cruelly honest and destroy something with uninhibited rage that, for once, I shall leave unchecked.
I want to live. Not be restrained by the norms of ‘civilised’ behaviour, or considerations for people I care for. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to feel remorse for any of my well-meaning actions that have not turned out the way I expected them to. I don’t want to feel guilty for being unresponsive to people I like when they’re only trying to reach out to me. I just want to be aloof and forget all about existence and get a chance to live in my own frame of time.
I’d like to feel the full potential of my anger ... and every emotion that I’ve had to lock away to keep myself in check. I want to shout till I am hoarse and throw a tantrum like a small child who yells and screams when denied something. What is the point of having the faculty of speech if you have to guard your tongue constantly?
I would like to feel, without ever feeling sorry for myself or the fact that I feel.
Thursday, 17 January 2008
Relic
Date: 17.01.2008
Time: 9:25 a.m.
A wind blew across the room
From a parted window
It made brittle pages fly
Rustling without much show,
An upturned inkpot lay forgotten
Beside those yellowed pages
Black ink lay still and dry
Its motion ceased since ages.
The desolate silence brought to the fore
By movement of a restless breeze
Those scattered pages settling still
Locked away in time to freeze,
A ray of sunny seeking light
Cast warmth upon that frozen shot
That relic captured in fleeting flight
Left to contemplate what its death brought.
End: 9:35 a.m.
Time: 9:25 a.m.
A wind blew across the room
From a parted window
It made brittle pages fly
Rustling without much show,
An upturned inkpot lay forgotten
Beside those yellowed pages
Black ink lay still and dry
Its motion ceased since ages.
The desolate silence brought to the fore
By movement of a restless breeze
Those scattered pages settling still
Locked away in time to freeze,
A ray of sunny seeking light
Cast warmth upon that frozen shot
That relic captured in fleeting flight
Left to contemplate what its death brought.
End: 9:35 a.m.
Tuesday, 15 January 2008
What The Fart!
5:55 p.m.
LD: My dad hates it when I whistle. He thinks it is unladylike.
Ship: Can he whistle?
LD: No.
Ship and LD laugh.
Ship: I hate you.
LD: Why?
Ship: You can whistle.
LD: (solemnly) I know.
Ship: (petulantly) This is not fair! I want to be unladylike too!
*Laughterness on LD’s part*
6:00 p.m.
Ship: Sagittarian women are supposed to have huge appetites…
LD: Hey, Linda Goodman didn’t say anything about Leo women. I am always hungry. Ask people how I eat their Tiffin.
Ship: Maybe you’ll grow out of it.
LD: WHY? I don’t want to grow out of it!
Ship: That was also quotable.
LD: Whahahahaa.
Ship: (after a sudden revelation) We are calling each other women, man!
LD: I know! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!
*More laughterness*
6:05 p.m.
Ship: Oh crap!
LD: Why do people swear saying ‘crap’ but never swear saying ‘fart’?
Ship: AHAHAHAHAHAHA. Go quote that.
LD: No! Or wait, yeah! Whahahahaha.
LD: My dad hates it when I whistle. He thinks it is unladylike.
Ship: Can he whistle?
LD: No.
Ship and LD laugh.
Ship: I hate you.
LD: Why?
Ship: You can whistle.
LD: (solemnly) I know.
Ship: (petulantly) This is not fair! I want to be unladylike too!
*Laughterness on LD’s part*
6:00 p.m.
Ship: Sagittarian women are supposed to have huge appetites…
LD: Hey, Linda Goodman didn’t say anything about Leo women. I am always hungry. Ask people how I eat their Tiffin.
Ship: Maybe you’ll grow out of it.
LD: WHY? I don’t want to grow out of it!
Ship: That was also quotable.
LD: Whahahahaa.
Ship: (after a sudden revelation) We are calling each other women, man!
LD: I know! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!
*More laughterness*
6:05 p.m.
Ship: Oh crap!
LD: Why do people swear saying ‘crap’ but never swear saying ‘fart’?
Ship: AHAHAHAHAHAHA. Go quote that.
LD: No! Or wait, yeah! Whahahahaha.
Monday, 14 January 2008
Visions
I’m tired and feeling exhausted. Was up late for no reason, couldn’t sleep properly, and had to wake up early today. And the nightmare I had towards the dark dawn was rather horrible ... not unpleasant perhaps, but horrible. I suppose the two terms would appear the same to some. It was the first time in ages, perhaps even years that I lay quietly with a sense of dread and most surprisingly a fervent desire to not die. I don’t really know what to make of it though ... “I don’t want to die now” is the last thing I’d usually say. Heh.
Life seemingly springs strange surprises. Uncharacteristic dreams and an even more uncharacteristic reaction to these would appear to be a part of it. At least it makes life less bland and makes for moments of quiet retrospection. I wonder what I have been thinking. The dull pounding that I can feel on one side of my head is making me rather woozy.
I’ll leave the dream analysis for another day though.
Life seemingly springs strange surprises. Uncharacteristic dreams and an even more uncharacteristic reaction to these would appear to be a part of it. At least it makes life less bland and makes for moments of quiet retrospection. I wonder what I have been thinking. The dull pounding that I can feel on one side of my head is making me rather woozy.
I’ll leave the dream analysis for another day though.
Essentially That
Date: 14.01.2008
Time: 00:20 a.m.
Scarcity is the order of the day, for I have been rather scarce for a long time. Scarce with thought, speech and action … scarce with words. My constant companions had seemingly deserted me, but what I have realised is this. As long as I force myself to give the largest muscle in my body a little nudge in the form of a kick, the words are bound to flow. They dare not play hide and seek with me.
I’ve been kept busy. The whispered calls of real life were audible to me and thus I’ve been drawn to reality for a while — at least my perception of it, that is. Now, I’ve become bored and decided to return. Life continues to beat its never-tiring heart, even when flames consume the futures of some, spreading ashes before their eyes. That is but the course of human nature. The chaos is essential for the order to be necessary.
It is actually rather pointless to note all the ‘events’ that have taken place. There isn’t much to say in any case. I happen to remain essentially the same person I was a year back, flaws and vulnerabilities intact. I don’t think it is something that can be altered. All I can do is perfect that which masks these from the world, that’s all … Nothing more than that.
To be honest, I am not really surprised. I’ve always known that it is impossible to change a person’s basic nature. I used to wonder why people bothered ‘changing’ themselves for other people. Besides, there is another factor that is to be taken into account: you don’t always get what you want. Not that that should stop you from wanting what you want, as long as you realise and accept the extent of its probability of attainment.
At this moment, I am not bothered by the inconsistency that I see. Part of the reason is that I have things to occupy myself with, and the other part is a healthy bit of scepticism regarding the world. I know that people are essentially selfish and it isn’t something that shocks or disturbs me. I accept the trait in myself and other people and am hence unaffected. At least, that is what I’d like to think. These ‘plastic’ beings don’t know that they’re being so. Their behaviour should not necessarily have to affect my peace of mind, should it? Therefore, I do not complain.
End: 00:40 a.m.
Time: 00:20 a.m.
Scarcity is the order of the day, for I have been rather scarce for a long time. Scarce with thought, speech and action … scarce with words. My constant companions had seemingly deserted me, but what I have realised is this. As long as I force myself to give the largest muscle in my body a little nudge in the form of a kick, the words are bound to flow. They dare not play hide and seek with me.
I’ve been kept busy. The whispered calls of real life were audible to me and thus I’ve been drawn to reality for a while — at least my perception of it, that is. Now, I’ve become bored and decided to return. Life continues to beat its never-tiring heart, even when flames consume the futures of some, spreading ashes before their eyes. That is but the course of human nature. The chaos is essential for the order to be necessary.
It is actually rather pointless to note all the ‘events’ that have taken place. There isn’t much to say in any case. I happen to remain essentially the same person I was a year back, flaws and vulnerabilities intact. I don’t think it is something that can be altered. All I can do is perfect that which masks these from the world, that’s all … Nothing more than that.
To be honest, I am not really surprised. I’ve always known that it is impossible to change a person’s basic nature. I used to wonder why people bothered ‘changing’ themselves for other people. Besides, there is another factor that is to be taken into account: you don’t always get what you want. Not that that should stop you from wanting what you want, as long as you realise and accept the extent of its probability of attainment.
At this moment, I am not bothered by the inconsistency that I see. Part of the reason is that I have things to occupy myself with, and the other part is a healthy bit of scepticism regarding the world. I know that people are essentially selfish and it isn’t something that shocks or disturbs me. I accept the trait in myself and other people and am hence unaffected. At least, that is what I’d like to think. These ‘plastic’ beings don’t know that they’re being so. Their behaviour should not necessarily have to affect my peace of mind, should it? Therefore, I do not complain.
End: 00:40 a.m.
Sunday, 13 January 2008
Windswept
Date: 13.01.2008
Time: 11:40 p.m.
A raging wind beckons my weary frame
Its restless spirit lifts me to the stars
Stepping on invisible stairs
With giddy unsteady footsteps
I rise to meet the storm
That cries urgently to me.
A fiery dust storm blinds my weary gaze
Its violence smarting me with bitter dust
Peering out from within closed eyes
That shut out the storm along with sight
I fight its force to see
All that lies before me.
A whispered chant reaches my weary ears
Its mellifluous refrain calming a soul so tense
Resonating from hidden depths within
Serene in its feathery touch
I feel it and journey on
Imbibing its strength within me.
End: 00:05 a.m.
Time: 11:40 p.m.
A raging wind beckons my weary frame
Its restless spirit lifts me to the stars
Stepping on invisible stairs
With giddy unsteady footsteps
I rise to meet the storm
That cries urgently to me.
A fiery dust storm blinds my weary gaze
Its violence smarting me with bitter dust
Peering out from within closed eyes
That shut out the storm along with sight
I fight its force to see
All that lies before me.
A whispered chant reaches my weary ears
Its mellifluous refrain calming a soul so tense
Resonating from hidden depths within
Serene in its feathery touch
I feel it and journey on
Imbibing its strength within me.
End: 00:05 a.m.
Saturday, 5 January 2008
Alone
Date: 05.01.2008
Time: 9:15 p.m.
He would soar on his feet
Under every sun
He would fly with the breeze
Till his feet wouldn’t run,
Wake up every day
With a fresh fantasy
To live out dreamily
Till his mind gave away.
Staring at the wild trees
With their arms open wide
Solitude, a release
From the lingering tide,
That fought to sweep away
Along with yonder herd
Of foolish grazing men
He’d rather be a bird.
His wingspan eclipsed hope
And the darkening sun
Leaping from dawn to dusk
Quirky game to be won,
’Gainst the hovering horde
Where each replicated
In image and stated
Soulless cretins that roared.
And he walked by alone
Caring not for their ways
While he slept nights in peace
Feeling liberty’s rays,
Falling soft on his face
Calm and utterly bathed
In moonlight that made it
Winsome while the eyes played.
Fetid parasites shunned
During labyrinthine walk
As he discovered life
Beyond glorious talk,
That dreams innovation
Forging a future strong
No revolution wrong
Alone with creation.
End: 10:10 p.m.
Time: 9:15 p.m.
He would soar on his feet
Under every sun
He would fly with the breeze
Till his feet wouldn’t run,
Wake up every day
With a fresh fantasy
To live out dreamily
Till his mind gave away.
Staring at the wild trees
With their arms open wide
Solitude, a release
From the lingering tide,
That fought to sweep away
Along with yonder herd
Of foolish grazing men
He’d rather be a bird.
His wingspan eclipsed hope
And the darkening sun
Leaping from dawn to dusk
Quirky game to be won,
’Gainst the hovering horde
Where each replicated
In image and stated
Soulless cretins that roared.
And he walked by alone
Caring not for their ways
While he slept nights in peace
Feeling liberty’s rays,
Falling soft on his face
Calm and utterly bathed
In moonlight that made it
Winsome while the eyes played.
Fetid parasites shunned
During labyrinthine walk
As he discovered life
Beyond glorious talk,
That dreams innovation
Forging a future strong
No revolution wrong
Alone with creation.
End: 10:10 p.m.
Tuesday, 1 January 2008
Blah-ing Over A New Year
Date: 01.01.2008
Time: 00:38 a.m.
So, well, here comes 2008. Oh wait, it has already arriveth. And I’ve been laughing my head off while reading Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. The book — a ‘totally remarkable book that sells a lot better than Encyclopedia Galactica’ and also has ‘DON’T PANIC printed in large friendly letters on its cover’ is the best cure for depression there ever was. As I’ve successfully laughed my way into the new year, I can hope that there will be reasons enough for me to laugh some more in the future.
It’s a lot like last year. I’ve counted the minutes up to midnight while reading a book, I can hear those inconsiderate happy people bursting fireworks outside, I am too lazy to get off my arse, go to the tiny cage of a balcony and watch, and I am still alive and breathing (which is not too surprising seeing that I’m not that old) … however, there are a few very subtle differences, oh yes. If I pause solemnly and decide to take stock of my life, I shall find much to be mirthful about.
For one, I can actually occupy my bed (on which I am sitting and writing right now). Till, say, the middle of last year, my room … well, the only inhabitable part of it was probably the floor. Now, well, although it is far from spotlessly tidy by Mummy-standards, it is decent enough. And I don’t feel like sleeping anywhere else.
I’ve also entered the new year in an amused frame of mind, feeling highly tickled by the antics of the human race in general, some aliens and some artificial intelligence. So, I would say that it is a jolly good thing for a person as morbid as I. Moreover, while carrying out another one of those slightly eccentric (slightly, mind you) conversations with myself, I realised that I have no reason to act mad. The mad, I reasoned, do not need to act. So, all is well and I am satisfied.
Another very prominently subtle change in my life is that I am writing this entry in purple ink. If my memory serves me right, then the 1st January, 2007 entry was in green. 2007 — it looked pretty on paper, but 2008 looks nice enough too. There isn’t anything major to complain of … yet. I know, I might be having a slight spot of indigestion, but my sore throat is so much better now. In fact, I feel inspired to act as insufferably cheery as the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporters.
And now, I am feeling perfectly lazy, so lazy that it is sheer bliss to just recline lazily knowing that I can rule the world if I want to but am too lazy to care and go about doing it. It was fun speaking to a couple of good friends over the phone and then discovering to my joy that the networks were busy while trying to call up other people I felt like wishing the very best for the New Year which was already some minutes old by the Indian Standard Time. I suppose it is the only time that IST is stretched into that, for the telephone networks know exactly when to hitch up text messaging costs and give error reports so that you unwittingly send the same “Happy New Year! xD” message to the same person around thirty times and are charged very generously. It is refreshingly sweet, I know.
In any case, I am in a good mood — not too smiley, yet not a bit weepy, which amounts to my sitting and writing instead of annoying my mother by constantly saying, “I am bored” (a recently developed pastime) or complaining loudly to no one in particular, except perhaps the ever-patient and benevolent walls that I feel like speaking of the fact that small feet just aren’t as good conversationalists as they used to be. Which goes to say, that I just annoyed the hell out of any person reading this by coming up with a perfectly nonsensical sentence that made entirely as much sense as the new concerto put together by a band of nomadic armadillos inside my head.
This would be another subtle yet marked difference from the beginning of last year, when I think I had not been quite so verbose out of sheer nothing. Now, I have made myself bored enough for my hyperactive laziness to kick in and tell me to go curl up and pretend to be dead, which is exactly what I will do right after replacing my purple pen back inside my rather red Spider-man pencil box. Logging out. Three cheers to all the donkeys that learnt cubism!
End: 1:15 a.m.
Time: 00:38 a.m.
So, well, here comes 2008. Oh wait, it has already arriveth. And I’ve been laughing my head off while reading Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. The book — a ‘totally remarkable book that sells a lot better than Encyclopedia Galactica’ and also has ‘DON’T PANIC printed in large friendly letters on its cover’ is the best cure for depression there ever was. As I’ve successfully laughed my way into the new year, I can hope that there will be reasons enough for me to laugh some more in the future.
It’s a lot like last year. I’ve counted the minutes up to midnight while reading a book, I can hear those inconsiderate happy people bursting fireworks outside, I am too lazy to get off my arse, go to the tiny cage of a balcony and watch, and I am still alive and breathing (which is not too surprising seeing that I’m not that old) … however, there are a few very subtle differences, oh yes. If I pause solemnly and decide to take stock of my life, I shall find much to be mirthful about.
For one, I can actually occupy my bed (on which I am sitting and writing right now). Till, say, the middle of last year, my room … well, the only inhabitable part of it was probably the floor. Now, well, although it is far from spotlessly tidy by Mummy-standards, it is decent enough. And I don’t feel like sleeping anywhere else.
I’ve also entered the new year in an amused frame of mind, feeling highly tickled by the antics of the human race in general, some aliens and some artificial intelligence. So, I would say that it is a jolly good thing for a person as morbid as I. Moreover, while carrying out another one of those slightly eccentric (slightly, mind you) conversations with myself, I realised that I have no reason to act mad. The mad, I reasoned, do not need to act. So, all is well and I am satisfied.
Another very prominently subtle change in my life is that I am writing this entry in purple ink. If my memory serves me right, then the 1st January, 2007 entry was in green. 2007 — it looked pretty on paper, but 2008 looks nice enough too. There isn’t anything major to complain of … yet. I know, I might be having a slight spot of indigestion, but my sore throat is so much better now. In fact, I feel inspired to act as insufferably cheery as the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporters.
And now, I am feeling perfectly lazy, so lazy that it is sheer bliss to just recline lazily knowing that I can rule the world if I want to but am too lazy to care and go about doing it. It was fun speaking to a couple of good friends over the phone and then discovering to my joy that the networks were busy while trying to call up other people I felt like wishing the very best for the New Year which was already some minutes old by the Indian Standard Time. I suppose it is the only time that IST is stretched into that, for the telephone networks know exactly when to hitch up text messaging costs and give error reports so that you unwittingly send the same “Happy New Year! xD” message to the same person around thirty times and are charged very generously. It is refreshingly sweet, I know.
In any case, I am in a good mood — not too smiley, yet not a bit weepy, which amounts to my sitting and writing instead of annoying my mother by constantly saying, “I am bored” (a recently developed pastime) or complaining loudly to no one in particular, except perhaps the ever-patient and benevolent walls that I feel like speaking of the fact that small feet just aren’t as good conversationalists as they used to be. Which goes to say, that I just annoyed the hell out of any person reading this by coming up with a perfectly nonsensical sentence that made entirely as much sense as the new concerto put together by a band of nomadic armadillos inside my head.
This would be another subtle yet marked difference from the beginning of last year, when I think I had not been quite so verbose out of sheer nothing. Now, I have made myself bored enough for my hyperactive laziness to kick in and tell me to go curl up and pretend to be dead, which is exactly what I will do right after replacing my purple pen back inside my rather red Spider-man pencil box. Logging out. Three cheers to all the donkeys that learnt cubism!
End: 1:15 a.m.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)