blank
is what’s my mind
right now
and blank
is the slate
of my life
i screech
and i scratch
the hard chalk
of my thoughts
it just ..

.. makes my teeth crush

laugh, laugh o world.
you haven’t known love
the way i know love
the sweet sweet smile
dats always on my lips
that hole in my heart
getting bigger by the day
but i’ll smile
and i’ll love
and i’ll prey ..
pray :)
dat you know
what i know
dat you feel
what i feel
the death
every moment
every minute
and the life
dat gets born
with each new nanosecond
with the promise
of the love quenched
your desires soothed down

i have had a wasteful life. and now, its just redundant, not entirely joyless, but pretty meaningless. yes, meaningless. there’s no meaning. everything has a meaning, each word, each phrase, a look, a breeze, even the tiny pebbles that poke my souls .. uhuh .. soles, as if they’re trying to tell me something, maybe taunt me. that there is no meaning of/to my existence. no reason. no sweet wish brought me forth. no love emotions are pushing me furthur. no urgent urge is pulling me towards it. i just am. just. there. nowhere. no one knows, no one cares. i never knew, am i beginning to care? it hurts, then it doesn’t. i am scared, and then i am not. i try to feel, there’s nothing. a numbness that i am embarassed to carry within me. i want to cry like piti, but my heart laughs out loud. that laugh embarasses me.

maybe its just mom. i feel like this .. weird, when mom is around. with her talking about ‘duniyadaari’ (societal responsibilities) all the time , i get .. depressed. or maybe i get reminded about something i oughta be doing. what? ah!!! its exasperating. should i just get married, so that cyra has a daddy? but why does everyone keep saying that she needs a daddy? we’re happy together. she and i. sam wants to come back, to me, to us. he says that he misses us. but now, i, cyra, have come so long away from him, from the life we’d had (and not a good life). i don’t want to.

dino. where are you sweets.

i went too far with the .. envisionment of the iranian guy. he’s not that great. comes no where near sweet dino morea. i have just reached office. i’ll write something nice for dino in sometime. i have anyways betrayed my love for him.

iranian guy. *sigh* that last comment of M, about only if dino morea was iranian, comes from this new .. fascination of mine. there’s this guy. hmmm … *sigh* … whatta a guy. *double sigh*. he’s iranian. and when he sits on one of those small, smart chairs of the naughty angel cafe … *sigh* my heart skips … nay, it stops beating [sorry dino, but it seems ny heart's got a mind of its own :( :)]. my heart .. yes, it just stops, and looks, and smiles. that guy, that beautiful, beautiful guy .. he looks like this sculpture right out of the old greek mythological times. as if, God took this smooth, white, marble sculpture, transported it in our times and then painted it with all the warm colors of life. *sigh* his eyes, his soft, soft, yet so still eyes, chisled from the most supple of marble stones of paradise. he’s got exquisite eyes, that go that extra mile to, not smile, but just maintain that distant, indifferent look. attitude! was what piti called it, with that “elfish” (to use her own word) smile in her own eyes. to me it seems like depth. the depth of the deepest abyss of the farthest, most distant, vast oceans. cool, dark, an intense magnetic attraction.

he’s not like big, or muscled, tall, lean, the body types that make me drool. he’s rather .. well not small, but not big .. averagish. but there’s a suppleness in his body. especially his bum. its seems so round and soft, that i just wanna strectch my hand and touch it softly when he passes me by in the cafe. but i just sit there, and just look at it (not stare, i never stare). i’d wanted to .. touch him, since the first time i saw him. long back (6 months?) when i’d first seen him in this cyber cafe i’d started frequenting then as i hadn’t yet got a net connection at home.

and he talks persian. i have no idea what words come out of his soft lips when he sits there chatting with his iranian group. but i just love the sound of it. and to think that i’ve always, always loved persian (also french). i gave my baby a persian name. *sigh* .. and did i mention his hair? ah! those thick, black, beautiful tresses that fall all over his .. ummm .. yummy shoulders, touching the base if his shoulder blades. its as if God entered the oldest, most remote databases of my dreams, dug up all information on what i like in a guy, went to wherever in time and got this little dream for me and morphed it into a guy. he pulls some of his front hair back and ties them behind into a tight, thick, lush pony tail falling over his just awesome, wavy, open hair at the back. God! i hope he’s not gay. .. and i hope he believes in one-night-stands.

i have never been able to get rid of the fear that i will be fired. i wonder where it crops from. the fear that i have done something wrong. it doesn’t matter how many accolades i might get (i rarely do), but at end of the day, almost always, i have this really nagging fear that i have missed something (i do actually, many times). it depresses me sometimes, a lot at some other times. this scary uncertainty. of suddenly being out of a job, especially now that i have a child to take care of, and no savings. and there’s also this dissatisfaction. i love my job, but it gets on my nerves sometimes. besides the i’ve-missed-something-crucial fear. this expectation of the management that we will happily spend our entire lives here, in the confines of this work place, interacting only with our machines. as if 9 hrs a day wasn’t enough. how can they expect me to respect their time if they don’t respect my time, my personal time. the little bits and pieces of time i so deserve after i give them the best of my entire day, 9 hrs, 5 days a week. its immature. very immature at a very basic level of any understanding. so i find it really funny when we are given “management” trainings … presentations of how important it is for a “highly effective” professional psyche to be “understanding”. hmmm …

they recently changed the timings from 10-6:30 to 10-7. their argument being that no one returns from their lunch before an hour. well, people who have work return in 10 minutes. what about those people. what about me? i never take more than 15-20 minutes to finish lunch. 40 extra minutes, 40 precious minutes become invaluable in the evening when i know that i can spend them with my child in my arms, talking sweet nothings into each other’s ears. and then the other day, this “management guru” was telling us how important it is to have a holistic satisfaction about doing everything right. he didn’t exactly say, doing everything right, only for the organization.*sigh* … and they all have this content, saintly smiling look.

if i am getting over dino morea, then i am getting over love. sad!
or maybe i am getting into it. love. in a whole new way. wow!! :)

i have never felt what i have been feeling of late. so much confusion, yet, such clarity. its like, nothing’s clear, nothing’s happening, but the clarity is that i don’t care. its scary sometimes. the i-don’t-care. i have a small child. i can’t afford to not care. scary! but, i don’t care.

i love her. my baby. my child. i have never known love, the way i know it now. such purity. such passion, yet not intense, but soothing, smiling, softly caressing.

with my latest verse for dino morea (link on the right), i have tried to give shape to a thought i’ve been entertaining of late. that maybe i am getting over dino morea. maybe i am beginning to realize that it might not be possible, me and him. he’s doesn’t know, and i .. am just too lazy. too much effort. in tracy’s words: an’ i am too old to go chasin’ you aroun’, wastin’ my precious energy. or maybe its my hormones, lying down and resting someplace quite, somewhere in my intestines … liver? i haven’t even been horny for so many days now. and i feel good. not feeling horny. looking at absolutely yum pieces of asses and not feeling anything. wow! where i live is a heaven on that front. such abundance of such yum guys. like, there’s this guy i’ve always wanted to do so bad, the other day he was around (at our hang-out, mine and M’s, naughty angel), and his eyes looked sweetly welcoming, and he loves dogs (he was coochie-cooing all the street dogs .. awwwwww!!!!), but i didn’t feel anything. it felt good. :) i was cool … truly.

it just felt redundant. it feels redundant. the … well …

its tax month. :( … and i couldn’t submit enough bills. :(

You like playing on the shore
the sunny comforts of the beach
paddling, snorkling in the shalows
playing with “friends”
building sand castles

Far, far away
in the cool green blue vastness
like the vast pacific, lay
my silent depths of love

i just came back from cyra’s school. she’s in nursery now and will be starting LKG (lower kindergarten) this summer. she will turn 4 this may. wow! four .. :) anyways, i was saddened by the greed (what else can it be) of the school to get as more as possible. they actually have 2 sessions of school. 3-hr sessions in the morning and the afternoon. the morning one (8-11) is too early - the 4 year olds have to wake up by 6-6:30. and the afternoon one (12-3) too late - its siesta time for most 4 yr olds by 2-2:30. and i think its pathetic to make parents choose a particular session. i think tomorrow i’ll ask her teacher which session has more of her friends.

i am so sleepy right now. we went to this thali place. absolutely yummy. they have these thalis with katories already laid on the table. you go and sit and they start filling the katories and the thali with an assortment of veggies and daal and curried stuff, and yummy desserts. its a till-you’re-full, so rs 85 is not really worth it for me, as i rarely eat that much in one go. so like a good baby, i finished all the veggies with tiny rotis, and had loads of desserts. for was this small bajra roti smeared with ghee and topped with gurd, a liquidy form of rabdi, and a really, really yummy gazar ka halwa (grated carrots cooked in milk and sugar and a lot of other stuff). and now, i am feeling that sweet, nice sleep coming over me. i just wanna lie down .. actualy each pore in my body wants to individually lie down, and close my eyes.

it’s been a nice weekend till now. spendful, as always, but nice. i saw pride and prejudice last night. keira knightly’s, long slender neck made me form a theory in human evolution. maybe, and not at all strictly, long necks means a better evolved human being, and hence more beautiful. by hence i mean, that all evolved human beings are beautiful, and not vice versa. inner beauty being the best beauty and all. i am so bloody selfish, and mean, and truly self-centered inside, and hence the way i look outside. :) … :(

ok. so the next year or two of my life, i’ll make an effort to be … nice. :) .. and hence try and increase my ‘beauty’ quotient ‘The Right Way’. the eternal way. the … soulful way. :) i think it’ll be great if i can find/get/trap? someone to sponsor my “be good” journey, so that i could completely focus and concentrate on “being good” without having to deal with everyday annoying things like … like … a job for example. and wondering, why, oh why i am left with rs 500/600 in my bank account at the end of each and every month. *sigh* i have given up now. i don’t even note down my expenses now. its so not of any use. what’s the point in keep writing it all down. if its gone, its gone.

i am sad today. the only thing that is stopping me from falling on my knees and break out into hysterical sobs is the cheer in this beautiful, beautiful weather. its as if, the sky, the sun, the sweet, cool breeze are all trying their best to make me smile. i did .. smile. but that weird pressure is there, the heavy, bulging pressure of sob, in my heart, just above actually. i think its the work. not that its a lot, but i have been reaching home pretty late of late. missing my baby, my angel, and missing being at home, by myself, looking over the expanse of the land beyond our balcony, one with the earth.

i have also been feeling weak of late. i can’t quite put my finger at whether it is emotional of physical, or maybe both, or maybe one because of another. last night i almost felt that maybe i am missing bombay. but today, i guess its not the place so much. maybe its the life i had there. with S and piti. the family bond that we’d had. maybe i am missing that. maybe i just feel alone. more so because i have my li’l angel with me, whose sweet sunny smiles i need to return with my sweeter, sunnier smiles. there, i feel it already .. a sweet, sunny smile coming up. :)

i just wanna be alone .. for a while. just me and my baby.

on such evenings
cold, cold, dark,
bluish grey, cloudy evenings
when the breeze is moist and cold,
and freezes the fingers
i look outside and wonder
if only,
i had hurried then
at 6 and run home
i could’ve been with my baby
my little angel
my pretty little flower
that blooms for me
and shines my world
we would’ve huddled together
just behind the wide, open window
freezing our bones
feeling the cold wind
she would’ve showed me things
on the dark blue horizon
a shadow here,
a dark looming tree-top there
and i would’ve
just held her
in my arms
smiling
knowing
that i have all i want
here in my arms

its 7 now
i’m at work
and have a client call
8:30

*sigh*

my li’l flower
is wilting
away
someplace
somewhere
in the cold

have been having
this funny thought
that if you are
not really big
then what i feel
will shrink too
hmmm…
what do i do

accept
that
i am shallow
mean
so “superficial”
or
understand
that maybe
its just a phase
of believeing
that
size does matter

maybe
its that time
of the month?
maybe years?
when my cell
as single
as me
is just crying
for some
fertilization

i opened notepad this morning, just cos i feel that i ’should’ write. although, fundamentally, i am against all things that one ’should’ do, at times one can’t / “shouldn’t” do anything else. a little something happened on my way to office. when i was getting off the auto, the auto guy started telling me about his child, that the li’l one has just had a heart operation and that s/he needs to be given these syringes regularly costing rs 900 each. i was just thinking about giving him some money, when he himself asked for it. i don’t know why, the moment he said “aap kuchh de saktey ho”, just when i was going to tell him, “mein kuchh madad kar deti hoon”, i just changed my mind. i got all .. suspicious. although, i felt pretty rotten when he drove off, understandingly nodding to my answer of “its month end and shit”. hmmm … so i guess, i still have a lot of negativity in me. cos i still don’t know if i should’ve believed him or not. i hope his kid gets better soon.

anyways, did you know that in the army (indian), single officers are not allowed to get girls into their living quarters? no girls allowed in the single officer’s rooms. imagine, me, an army officer (guy), age 30, not married, and i can’t have sex in my own accomodations. how weird can one get. isn’t it weird? and its so not fair. i had no idea that the indian army is existing in such a state of denial.

work is going fine. a couple of days back, i felt that i am losing it. that soon the company will realize that i am a complete good-for-nothing and then they will just fire me, as unceremoniously as they hired me. i need to be more disciplined. i have never been that. ever since i was a kid. the problem shows itself grotesquely if i try to do something i do not wish to. like algorithms. i have never been able to create computer programs. trying to do so actually gave me a headache. and i mean that literally. i get a actual, excrutiating pain in my temples that soon spreads towards the front and then covers my entire head. its awful. though i know that if i calm myself down and try and understand the facts in a cool manner, i will get it. after all, i have a brain, meant just for things like that right! *phew* easier said than done. but i do so wish to overcome this mental block. and then maybe i’ll become a math wizzkid or sumpin. hmmm… dat sounds cool. :) veer will be so proud of me then. i will teach his kid math. hohohohohohoho!!!! *sigh* :)

i had makki ki roti stuffed with methi and a bowlful of cream for breakfast, yet again. :( and while having it, i tried to decide, that this was the last time i was having it. i promply requested Sul to cook the rest of the methi with potatoes in the evening. na rahegi methi, na banegi makki ki roti, and na consume hogi itni malai. :( i love fresh milk cream. i haven’t even lost 1 kg yet, rather, i have gained 1 kilo. i was 66, and now i am 67. boohoohoo!!! :( wats happening to me. is this wat happens when you turn 30? WAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! and i was just 54 just last year. well, ok, last to last year .. not more than 1.5 yrs for sure. :(((((