a rs 15 mini thali and a rs 8 vanilla soft cone later, i am a satisfied woman. and i feel glad that i didn’t give in to the temptation of having a burger and spending a 100 rs. a tiny, micro-mini step towards conscious saving. alas! my baby might have a small chance of a somewhat secure future.

i just received a very, very cool animation in a mail. i so wanna make it my signature in MS Outlook, but its just not happening. i copy-pasted it as my signature, and it shows fine when i do that. but when i create a new message, there’s this empty box that appears instead of that animation. *sigh* i really like that animation. i hope veer is able to help me out.

i plan to get a bicycle for myself soon. i had been planning on getting one for a long time. as a matter of fact, that was what i had planned when i had moved to pune, that i will cycle to my workplace. and recently setting eyes on a really nice, sleek, bicycle has re-surfaced the thought, that is sitting there to turn into some action. maybe this new years’, once the pay reaches the bank.

i am thinking about it now, cos i wish i had one, so that i could take cyra out riding .. into the new year. that would have been nice. it’ll be so nice, to ride in the night, saying Happy New Year to everyone in the streets. :) … just like i’d done, all those years back .. on a bullet. :)

i haven’t been able to get in touch with piti after the last time she called from delhi. i wonder what she’s up to. i am glad that i cancelled plans to go to mumbai, and ordered the chocolate cake instead. :) i do hope though that i am able to get out of the house around 11:30 pm on the 31st of dec, with cyra .. see what the world (pune) is doing. i look forward to it.

i was just having a … conversation with a friend(?) that made me think of … well .. my dream guy. dino morea? ummm…. i dunno. well, now that i think about it, i feel that he is more of a “shape” that my sub-conscious is trying to give to a “dream”, which now i feel deep-down i don’t really want to achieve (as exhibited by the almost unachievable accessibility of dino morea), that maybe i don’t really want “it”. i feel that now i am just too comfortable with just .. me. or maybe its something else. i’ll try and sum it up, which i have never really been able to.

before that, let me tell you about this “friend”. well, about a month (maybe a bit more) back, i registered, or created an account in two sites, couchsurfing.com, and globalfreeloaders.com. i just registered and duly forgot about it, untill … untill i get this mail from a person who’s biking through the world, has been doing this for the past 15 months, was passing through pune on his way to goa and beyond, and wanting a place to stay for a while. i said a cheerful yes, like i always do on first instinct, but then later, as reality sank in, i freaked out (sorry Jk, i did). my main concern was cyra’s safety, obviously, as i am a highly paranoid mom. i don’t even encourage Sul to open the main door for anyone, irrespective of who it is, during the day, when i am at work. having a complete stranger, a traveller, who’s been out of the regular life/world scene for more than a year, who … well … by now is living in his own (weird?) world(s), one in his head, and one that he maybe creates around him everywhere, anywhere he goes, didn’t seem such a responsible, wise thing to do. but strangely, the doubt, the fear, lasted for just about a day. one major factor that soothed my tensed heart was the email that i’d received. i hadn’t seen the likes of it, ever, except for in my own emails of course. :) such organization, thoughtful formatting and paraphrasing, carefully chosen sentence structures, could only come from a … well … good heart. :) and i relaxed. yes, there was a chance that it could also be the work of a sharp, highly intelligent criminal mind, but i gathered that a criminal mind would not really take the trouble to haul a bicycle around the world. comfort is important for any kind of a criminal, or any other sort of a negative mind. and then i also have a strong faith in my own destiny.

everything turned out fine. Jk, who looks a lot like a german, comes from san diego, has travelled extensively through Europe and Africa, is on his way to looking around india, and the rest of the world beyond. not only was it nice to have him around, he had/has this comfortable aura, that doesn’t make you (didn’t make me) feel awkward or uncomfortable about never having seen him before. now that he’s left, i wish there was more time i could’ve spent at home, interacting, talking, just communicating; esp after that something really nice we did, just before he left to board the bus. we had a conversation :). mostly, when he was home, i used to come back from work, and we used to chat about, well, the day (his and mine), and about general stuff tourists and “natives” talk about. nothing much beyond that really. and in the mornings, either it was just discussing the local b’fast cuisine, or saying hurried goodbyes. it was only these last couple of days that we got talking a bit more, sharing some, relating some. it was good. Jk, it was great to have you here, and you are most welcome, anytime in the future.

now, back to the dream guy! ah! we were sitting there at the huge petrol pump (gas station), waiting for the bus to goa, when (i don’t remember now how) the conversation turned to (my) dream guy. i think i expressed a wish to have a baby before cyra is 4-5, which led to this stream of conversation.

my dream guy. well, the thing is .. i’ve never really had a picture or anything of a dream guy in my mind (now i do, yes, that of dino morea :) … i should google and put a picture of him up here). My dream guy is a person who does not tire me after a certain period of time … i know, dats a hugely selfish thing for me to even think of, because, i will need to have spent a considerable amount of time with that “person” to “see” if i still wish to continue sharing my life with him, and then again after some time, stop and ask myself again if i want to go on, untill, i realize that yes, this is it .. that i don’t want to ask myself anything regarding this person being in my life, anymore. [something that i have been feeling about dino morea of late. that when/if i see him, my heart will say that this is it. stop here! make camp here. :) veer insists that its some kind of a teenage delirium, maybe i am into a denial of turning 31.] hmmm …. whatever. currently, for me, a dream guy is exactly that. a guy of my dreams. and in your dreams you create these perfect pictures of a great body, that is dying to be your slave for the rest of your life, or till whenever it is convenient for you, and will do whatever you ask, all puppy-eyed, in the name of love. is that too much to ask … let me dream at least, o world!

or maybe i am just tired … and i can’t think straight! its late in the night. i think i’ll just hit bed now and see how i feel about it tomorrow.

i did go and order the yummy sweet chariot special. its a heavenly chocolate cake, for which the word heavenly does not suffice. i am already looking forward to the 31st of dec. the new years’ eve, when i (and cyra) will sink the knife in all that chocolaty smoothness, the thick texture wrapping itself around the blunt blade … ummm … i can feel the taste of the rich chocolate all over my tongue … and suddenly i am hungry. i will go hit mcD’s. altho i abhor the chain, but they have snoopy toys again with happy meals. the last collection of those snoopy toys was pretty cool. everyone got some. i din. i’ll go get one for TP now … my sun flower.

one hour later …

how stupidly pathetic these a******* are. they have this entire range of snoopy toys advertised all over, and “in-stock” are only two, the saddest of the lot. how completely stupid is that. but i like snoopy, and i want cyra to get familiar with him, so i got one. and i don’t mind those burgers really, i rather enjoy the McVeggie. its just that paying rs 90 for a burger and a coke, and a small toy seems a bit much. all for snoopy though. am sucking on the straw dipped in coke and can’t help but think of jerry, shlurrping the entire drink in one long slurrrp in one of the episodes. :) hehehehehehe!!!! love those guys.

my new year plans are all ascrew. lets now play the blame game. i blame piti. piti! piti! piti! piti! piti! ok! i’ll start from the beginning.

scene 1: me and M sitting on the vast expanse of the lonely terrace somewhere in the dusty, lost skyline of pune.

me: hmmm … i really like it when people get together and have a loud, noisy, communal party, like they do in times square on new years’. you know M, they do that in dilli too. every new years’ eve, huge, huge crowds converge in CP (cannought place), inner circle, and shout, and sing, and eat, and just have fun. the last time i was there, i din want to go back home.

M: oh! they do that in mumbai too. bandstand and all. people gather there in 100s-1000s 31st evening and celebrate a collective new years’.

me: wow! *stars in the eyes* hey M. are you in mumbai this new years’. i’d love to be there, part of that crowd.

that evening, i promptly called up piti. she too seemed pretty positive about the collective celebration thingie. so it was decided. piti was going to delhi. she was to come back on the 31st morning. so we decided that i will catch the 31st morning bus, and reach her place by noon with cyra, and then in the evening, we’ll go out. hit bandstand, carter road, anywhere.

scene 2: december beginning.

piti: chuck it na J. kya karengey out on the roads. lets just stay home and eat and listen to songs and good music and dance.

me: *sulk**grumble**scowl* i’ll just stay here in pune then.

present: i plan to order the yummiest of all chocolate cake from this nice li’l cafe near my place, sweet chariot cafe, for the 31st. i and cyra will cut it at 12. :) yippeee!!!!

wow! it was a painful weekend. literally. i had been having pretty uncomfortable nights both tuesday and wednesday night. it turned into pure, unadulteraed torture on thursday. excruciating is too less a word for it. for the pain that spread like lightening through my lower-right neck and shoulder blade, everytime i inhaled, or swallowed, or tried and rolled my eyes to the right, or the left. it was pain, in all its glory, naked, shameless, laughing like ravana, full blast. standing there on the top of my shoulder and screaming out loud, ferociously. i couldn’t sit, i couldn’t stand, there was no way i could walk, without this strained expression on my face, that look of torture. i had planned to leave for the day around 2, but there was a “client call” at 7:30. so i thought that i’d sit absolutely still, and somehow try and keep breathing till that time. i moved my mouse from the top of the workstation to my lap, and made sure that i don’t move my right arm; not that i could move it anyway. at 7:30, i call the client, and … no answer. i mail, and wait. soon i get a mail from his colleague that its his off, and that he will not be available. i did know that he was taking a week-10 days off, but i had no idea that it was starting 22nd. especially when he was the one to have mailed the meeting request. i should stop my dependency on the ms outlook calendar, and read the mails.

anyways. there was no way i cud’ve survived that pain one more day. so i took a day off on friday. S had suffered from something exactly like this last year. she was diagnosed 10day bed-rest, and 1k/session, 5 sessions. but i remember clearly that the most effective strategy had been the heat fomentation(?) our sweet maid had applied on her shoulder and neck, with boiling hot water and towel. so come thursday night, i asked Sul to do just that. it took till saturday night of doing that, wow … utterly yummy treatment, 3-4 times a day to get some moveability back into my arm.

it was a humbling pain. made me really fearful of the mangal planet that a palmist, after a fee of rs 50, tried to make me wary of. he’d insisted that things will get really screwed up if i am not careful. he was saying that he’d be glad to perform some pujas and give me some prasad and that would definitely take care of the mangal on my tail. he was asking for rs 1600. i figured that if i had to spend all that money, i’d rather go to a “bigger” pundit. so i didn’t pay him more than the required rs 50 and said a polite goodbye. but the e-x-c-r-u-t-i-a-t-i-n-g pain that kept me up most of the night, and woke me up early morning friday made me think of that guy i had sat, hand-in-hand with all those days back. it made me think of the mangal (mars) planet. its supposed to be an aggressing planet. it made me think of the heaviness i had been feeling in my left breast, and how it “inspired” kylie minogue to write a book. at least she’s (will be?) a published author now. and she’s not even an author. hmmm! i was really, really scared. i felt lonelier than ever. and did i say scared? and then i went to the loo with the paper. news paper! and my horoscope said, “see a doctor immediately”. that was the last straw. it freaked me out completely. i waited till 9. rushed to the hospital with cyra. didn’t even enjoy the doctor massaging my boobs, and relaxed only when she smiled at me and said, “everything’s fine, no lump … and by the way, you have worn your shirt inside-out”. i gave out a nervous giggle, and tried to explain that i had been having this really bad pain. she just smiled even more. i was already feeling better. i did think of going to a physio-therapist, and then thought of my bank balance, and how out of balance it was. besides, the heat-therapy was working just fine.

saturday evening me and cyra went to this christmas celebrations/fete kinda thing that our neighbourhood auntie had invited us to. it was pretty cool. they were playing this really nice sounding music, and i love love songs anyways. so we sat there a while, and then i asked auntie if she wanted to come to pune central with us. she had this really intrigued look in her eyes, and asked “why?”. i said just like that. she had that i-don’t-get-you-but-i’ll-go-with-you look, and a smile. we had a good time. after feeling guilty strongly for a good 5 minutes, i did buy the huge jar of mayonnaise, and some cheese too. i just felt like letting it go. i did.

i am a good 2 sizes bigger now. :(

i sit in silence
praying
o lord
please see my sorrow
if i keep
getting bigger
at this rate
you know
there’ll be
no tomorrow

Ah! I have been tagged. Refer to: http://reve3.blogspot.com/, the entry for 24th Dec.

things i have been proven wrong about:

1. sam is my soulmate.

2. i will spend the rest of my life with SM. (1995)

3. i will over-throw my boss and take her position/designation. (1998; i got fired instead)

4. i am a very good cook.

5. i hate mumbai, and that i will never, ever move there. (its been the best place of abode, and would love to settle there.)

yippee …. now comes the good part. i tag:

Veer: www.writingcave.com

Blue: http://blueathenaisland.blogspot.com/

and, Alka: http://www.alkadwivedi.net/

and hence
i try again
while waiting
for openoffice to dowload
i try
to pen forth
to express
the broken,
tired,
torn, and
much scattered thought(s)
of this namesake
brain

yet again
googling for dino
for there’s nothing else
my mind can conjure up
to kill this time
for it won’t
die on its own
or maybe
its just a habit
to kill time
poor time
someday
i should just sit
and not kill it

its another blue evening
rather dull
quiet, sad
not sad, sad
like bad sad.
but just
sad .. sad.
melonchaly sad
what i had
turned out bad
now
tho
m content
but not glad
.. just sad!

waiting for an upload to happen.

when you passed me by
looking yonder
i understood
the meaning of
the carefully orchestrated
collars and cuffs
just slightly raised
just a bit turned
that high
in the eyes
when you know
you are approaching
a drug
that apparation
that has been gnawing
the innards of your mind
making you not sleep
making you not eat

and i stood there
an inch away
i smelt your breath
the minty fragrance
of your acquired freshness
and you didn’t even notice
what/who stood beside you
wearing that perfume
that you called jungle
that every bit
of all my cells
was working towards creating
my smell, my odor
that had driven you once
“crazy like an animal”
… your own words

and now,
those words are all i have

tp din got to school today. she didn’t sleep till about 12 the last night. so in the morning she just squirmed around in the bed, not opening her eyes, and purring out sweet, whiny sounds. my doll. so i thought that i’ll just let her be. she was anyways looking so angelic in the soft sunshine pouring on her face through the curtains. i fell in love with her all over again. i thank god! … for that moment. i have been smiling since then. i walked out of the building smiling, i sat in the auto-rik smiling, i walked towards the office smiling, and i am sitting here, typing it all out, smiling. :)

we got the bluffmaSTER cassette last evening, me and cyra.

say na say na how u said it to me
soney, do na do na how u did it to me
dholi dhol waja rajj rajj ke
o asaan yaar manana aye nach ke .. say na

wow! i’ve listened to this song for about a zillion times now.

had a B-E-A-utiful weekend. saw kalyug, and bluffmaster. good entertainment. i love the score of bluffmaster .. uhuh … music, i mean. esp, .. come to meee …., and that punjabi/english mix, say na say na. even the remix of that old, old song sabse bada rupaiyaa is good. good fun. cyra just loved it.

hmmm…..

ok then.

uh, here’re the starting lines of one of my favorites:

say na say na how you said it to me
do na do na how you did it to me
dholi dhol waja rajj rajj ke
assan yaar manana ye nach ke
ho say na …

i love the sound of dhol. it …. enthralls me. my mama (mom’s bro) plays it. you can go crazy drumming that thing … crazier just listening to it.

:-)

tp.
is she here
to make me want to live
but its not a want
more of a compulsion
that i have to
live, and smile
keep smiling
to make that angel smile
disillusion her now
that
its a beautiful life!

i don’t do,
never practice
in an effort to forget
that, which i never cared for

or maybe i did
but that was long back
when the disillusionment was enough
to make me smile, look forward

now there is nothing
no disillusionment, no illusion
no stupid hope, no redundant dreams
just a nagging thought that i am sick of …

i can’t quite figure it out
put a finger, or pin-point
this strange feeling in my heart
what it is, where is it from

my “anchor” is shifting
starting to move slightly
its unnerving me, making me sad
unsure of my own bearings

i feel sad, for no reason
not alone, or lonely
just sad, disinterested
in everything there is, or isn’t

or maybe its just this fear
of this complete life dependence
on this job
its making me sad

i was thinking about it sometime back. that my parents did their utmost best to make me as dull as possible. they had nothing, but my best interest in mind. and i do understand their mindset. just be quiet, irrespective of what’s going on around you, keep going quietly from one day to another, without making any conspicous sounds, doing what everyone else does, what “society” expects of you.

humans are one of the cruelest species on Earth. it’ll be correct to say that humans are not one of, but rather the only truly cruel species on Earth. animals, are cruel, because of their nature, they need to. but humans, are cruel, when they don’t need to. humans rip open a 9-month pregnant woman’s womb and throw the fully-formed baby into the fire, alive, for no reason, just for … fun? shame! on me, cos all i can do is write about it.

and that’s exactly why my parents did all they could to make sure that i don’t do anything “different”. cos if i did anything different, people will notice me. my image will be clear in their minds. and someday, if even one of them is in a mischiveous mood, and wishes to cause ruccus, i might be on top of the list of villainies. and so they stopped me. they stopped my from taking those dance lessons when i was 10, they stopped my from going for the basket ball practice when i was 13. they stopped me from getting a job when i was 16-17. i feel compelled to blame them now, when i don’t want to do anything. i wanna go back home. sleep till mommy wakes me up. go out in the evening and come back home to hot, yummy food waiting for me at the table. not worrying about the month-end, or rather, the beginning.

if this life’s a vaccation, i wanna spend it like one. nothing’s happening. i am not doing anything.

wow! its going to be 2006. i clearly remember the 31st dec, 1995 party. i had just broken off with my 1st true love. … and i was having fun. although the heart still ached, most of it got numbed by preparing for the party, which was to be hosted at my place. me, and my cousin who was living with us at that time, and a coupla friends who were also kind of living with us (me and veer), were all busy moving all furniture out of the living room, to make space for the dance floor. strangely, it was an alcohol-free party. i wonder why. we had bought a 100 eggs, and made egg-curry at home (another cousin did), and had planned to get tandoori rotis from a near-by dhaba.

of late i have been writing very shitty stuff. i mean, my expression. its gone pretty bad. i just don’t feel like writing. i don’t feel like doing anything. i just wanna keep sleeping. if i keep sleeping all my life (but wake up too and watch TV and stuff), no one will ever be bothered. but if i “sleep forever” at one go, there’ll be this huge hulla-ballu, and i will forever be remembered, for my cowardice, or bravado.

about that party i remember dancing all night (i had the stamina then), downing some eggs every now and then. and then i went out on a bike with my cousin who used to stay with me. it was a bullet. its a real heavy bike. that was the first night i had ever ridden a bullet. and wow! it was awesome. i did a 101 kmph, on this wide empty road in safdarjung enclave, adjacent to the deer park. and my cousin kinda made this strange sound, trying to suppress a cry … of fear, cos he din wanna make me lose balance or something. and when we reached near the JNU campus (my house was in nauroji nagar, about 6-7 kms way), the bullet sputtered and stopped. no petrol. we pushed the bike all the way back home. early, very early new year’s morning. it was good fun. and i was wearing this tiny t-shirt in the december chill. but i was loving it. i can still see myself so clearly, grinning to myself on that road, walking into the night. one of those … memorable moments.

veer. where were you among all that din? is that why you hate me now? for never being there …. i am so sorry veer.

i had the weirdest of dreams last night. i don’t know what to call it. erotic, or just plain horrifying. throughout the dream, (and it was a long dream) i was in such intense agony. i wanted to have sex so bad that it was hurting. and it wasn’t your regular hurt, like pain or anything. yes, there was pain, mashed and clubbed with intense longing and ache and desire. it was horrible. it was a nightmare. couple of “scenes” i remember clearly. i am naked, and standing in front of a buffet table kinda thing, with a dinner plate in my hand, serving myself from the large bowl. and this old guy comes and stands in front of me. i know he’s too aware of my naked breasts, but is playing it cool, not looking where i intend him to, rather i am dying for him to, but he’s generally looking here n there. and then i come back to this table, and sit on a bench like in a canteen or a mess. i can’t remember who i am with, but i am with somebody, a friend i think, a girl-friend. and i put my plate on the aluminum table, and sit leaned backwards (its a low bench kinda thing), spreading my legs a bit apart, and i am really, really wet. and in my dream, i am dreaming, sitting there, that i am gettin ******, big time, like bang, bang, bang, bang … really hard! from this other old guy who is sitting right across. and suddenly i wake up and i am sitting there, on the bench, with my plate there on the aluminum table, drenched in pain and agony, squilshing, moving about, contracting, just dying.

this part of the dream i can imgine where my mind might’ve conjured up from. before going to sleep, i was reading this book, Immortality, by milan kundera. just before sinking in slumber i was reading this part about shame, where the writer has described about what a strong emotional element shame is, and how people don’t have it anymore. how the narrator goes to the beach and naked women strut across casually with bare breasts, and how he tries to avoid staring at them. the entire chapter was on the narrator’s interpretation of the meaning and involvement of sex in the evolution of one’s life.

throughout my dream (there are so many more “scenes”), i am writhing in pain, and agony (i love using this word; agony) of wanting sex. the sheer pain; its inexplicable.

the weekend was good. piti was here with Sn. we all had a great time. saturday wooshed past as if in a split second. they left sunday early morning. sunday afternoon i got so depressed thinking about work, and that i need another off. i think it was our maid Chh. her journey back home to kolkata has been post-poned. so she was giving off these really negative vibes. i think it hit both me and cyra. cos cyra too, in the evening said the weirdest of thing. she said that she din want “poona” anymore, that she wants to go “back home”. and by home she meant powai, mumbai. *sigh* is it that she still thinks that “poona” (its the way she says it with a oo sound) is a kind of an outing that we took. cos i had told her before moving from mumbai that we are going to pune, yeah!!! and she was happy that we are going “out”. but i did explain to her a lot of times that this is home now. and she loves it here. she always has, from day 1.

i am planning on creating a collection of poems for dino, and leave it for him, where he can get it. insha allah! amen! swahaa!! :)

that is exactly what happens when one is angry. stupid things come outof the head, the mouth. things that don’t make any sense, things that don’t rhyme, have no reason. things that make you feel bad later, you regret, that its public now that your verse is worse than any bad prose. but then, as i always insist, dats what i am, right at this/that moment. let me try a li’l more, a li’l later, maybe i’ll be better (or worse) the next time.

veer doesn’t agree. he polishes his words, till they shine bright, and then brings them out. well, dats just another way of … being. but at times, i do wish i could aquire some of his skills, or some other skills. of applying thought in the right manner at the right time, instead going, “oh shit!” later.

last night was good. i really wanted to get drunk. but didn’t find anyone to get drunk with so went back home. after i had finished food and was watching TV, M msged if i still wanted to go out. she came over, and then me, cyra, and M started out on foot. three jolly gals, singing and walking, under the beautiful pristine moon slice. there’s this place, mad house grill, a small walk away from my place. and last night they had live music: 2 guys, chris (guitar), and michael (keyboard). they played almost all our requests. there’s this cute guy i ogle at often. he was there too. we frequent the same cyber cafe, and food joints. actually, dats what i love about the place in stay in. so many of the poeple are visible on the roads or the cafes (cyber or coffee) at night. most of the crowd is young and good looking. and a couple of around the corner cafes are open till late night (12:30 is what i have witnessed, dunno about beyond).

this place, Mad House Grill, is a steaks place. just love the food there. haven’t seen so much choice in steaks anywhere else. M had a chicken cheese steak, which looked pretty good. but i couldn’t get myself to poke in it cos i was full till my tongue. she was going a sing-song yummmm … with every bite. it was nice, listening to the live music, playing right in our ears (its a small place), and M going Mmmm…. we then ordered our favorite dessert. i dunno what they call it, but its apple (cooked?) dipped in some wine, topped with vanilla ice-cream and caramel. heavenly!!! (my heart’s not in it. can you feel it?) after we finished eating, we still din want to get up and go. after all, they were practically playing just for us. there was no one left there, except for that cute guy with his group, sitting way up somewhere out of sight; throwing a clap here and a sundry clap there. so we ordered a coupla beers. cyra had found her groove in the stairs that led up to a parapet/platform kinda thing where the other group was sitting. so she was going up and coming down with a meditative fervor, scaring me at times. cos she was doing it so fast that i felt that she’s gonna topple on one of the steps. but she was really enjoying it, so i let her be. M smiled silently watching me slurp up beer with a straw. she quietly msgd another friend, “J is sipping beer with a straw”, but by mistake sent it to me. hahahahaha!!!!! we sat there sippin beer, and listening to some (good? guitar definitely) music till about 11:45. cyra was getting sleepy, and besides, they made it very obvious that they were shutting down. the other group had left sometime back. so M paid, i kinda pitched in half-heartedly, which M duly returned, shook hands with the band, came out of the joint, exchanged pleasantries with the owner who was about to start diggin in his plate of rice and big chunks of meat, told him to have the music regularly (chris and michael had asked us to, on our way out), kissed each other g’nite and made our separate ways into the night, with cyra shouting BYEEEE M till far.

a short, lovely (though dusty) walk back home, and we were cozily wrapped in each other’s arms, saying bye to yet another love-filled day in our lives. i love you my li’l baby. my sweet, sweet angel.

its just me
as pathetic as ever
at least a decade back
i was pleasant to look at

now its just a sack
a sack of potatoes
torn from the sides
black with soot

shouting, bitchin, screamin
complainin, and explainin
a bit o cryin
and then denyin

i remember forever askin
with my arms raised upwards
for a book, a guide, a manual
to life, to live, to go by

nothin ever dropped from heaven
nothin appeared in my lap
no magical info in my head
its as empty as it was in the womb

f***, s****, f*****g a******
just go f*** urselves
don’t talk to me
don’t even look at me

forget that i ever existed.

damn you for makin me feel this way.
for never being there
yet commanding and demanding
never needed you, don’t want your shit

now that i have the time
i do not know what to do with it
and when i don’t have it
i keep cribbing
there’s so much i want to do

and i also keep complaining
dat m not half as pro-active
as i need to be
i never do
mostly i don’t have a clue

clueless
pointless
and now worthless
dats wats existence come to mean
its lost its initial sheen

and i know that at length
i will yet again start berating
the fate i chose for myself
the fate i’m working (or not) towards
this sad, mundane life

started with a cry
gonna end with a hush