puraney pal sambhal ke rakhey they.
naye waqt ne aa kar phaink diye …

mushkil kitni hoti hai
kuchh logon kee zindagi

wo dur, ice-cream wala
chup-chap chaley ja raha hai
raat 12 bajey
apni gaadi ko dhakeley
kahin ja raha hai
ya, kahin se aa raha hai

na janey kitney ghantey din mein
dhoop mein wo chala hoga
garmi mein khara hoga
akeley khayalon mein pada hoga

aur yoon hee chalti rehti hai
saanso kee ye bandagi
mushkil kitni hoti hai
kuchh logon kee zindagi

aur yahan mein hoon
araam hai
mera ye sunder flat
ye pankhey kee thandi hawa
ye mera bister mulayam
merey takiye dher saarey
merey fridge mein thanda paani
daurdati-bhagti zindgani

shukra hai merey bhagwan
shukriya hai tera
tuney mujhey basaya
ghar diya, kuchh paisey diye
apni deh se mujhey lagaya

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

ah! kya din beeta hai
kitni sunder hai garmi padti
ye garm-garm hawa
ye dhoop jab jab sir pe chadti
ek mein, aur meri ice-cream
sab hein merey paas aatey
ice-cream do, bhaiya ice-cream do
paise dikhatey
paas bulatey

mera chhota sa ghar
mera pyara bister
meri sunder biwi
merey nanhey-munney bachhey
subah jagengey sab
khushi manayengey
pyar karengey mujhey
daurdey bhageingey, khelengey
apney khel mein bulayengey mujhey

shukra hai merey bhagwan
shukriya hai tera
tuney mera dhela chalaya
garmi dee, grahak diye
aaj tuney mera kaam banaya

wo dur, wo ek madam
chup-chap khadi hein wahan
raat 12 bajey
balcony mein
jab so raha hai sara jahan

intzaar kar rahee hai kisi ka?
kab tak intezaar sahegi
na janey kab se khadi hai yahan
kab tak khadi rahegi
kitni akelee, bechari lagti hai
raat anderey, udaasi mein padi rahegi

na jaaney kaun hai uska
koi hai bhi ya nahi hai
shayad yahi kal gum sum ghoom rahi thee
sadak pe, haan ye wahi hai

ram hee janey uski maya
kitney log, unki kitni strife
mushkil kitni hoti hai
kuchh logo kee life

[ .. this content is not appropriate for those under the age of 18 .. ]

Lips

she had been trying for some time now, but wasn’t able to get that image out of her mind. the image of his lips. his thick, luscious, pink lips, that looked so meaty and so juicy at the same time. she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to chew and eat them, or just keep sucking on them, like she would a sweet, juicy mango. they looked more pink than a woman’s cunt, his lips … at least all the women’s cunts that she had seen. she stared at it for long .. his picture, and then when she couldn’t take it anymore, she called and told him that she was coming over, and that she expected to see him at his place. she promised her boss that she will finish the assignment later in the evening and scooted before the boss could protest.

he was sitting and waiting just like she had imagined, when she walked in; on his single bed, leaning back against the pillows, pretending to read. she threw her bag on the chair, unzipped her denims (just to make herself comfortable) and climbed the bed, sitting astride him, over his lap. she took his face in her hands and just looked at it. more pink than a very hot woman’s cunt. the thought made her sizzle. she ran her thumb over his lips, still holding his face. he closed his eyes and sighed, opening his lips just a wee bit, like a small bird would. she brought her hand forward, rubbed the side of his face with the back of her fingers, and then pushed the back of her first finger into his lips, parting them further, past his teeth, close to his tongue. her second finger followed, the first touching the tip of his tongue, her thumb rubbing his lips. he gasped and opened his mouth, taking all her fingers in, salivating all over hand, sucking it, taking it in. ah! if only she had something else to shove in that mouth .. so warm, so moist, flooded with desire.

she bent down and kissed his lips. once, twice, thrice … she could go on forever .. this very spot. she just wanted to suck with her lips first, no tongue. get tired of it, just kissing his lips. but she didn’t even realize when her tongue broke the barrier and reached his mouth, his lips, poking, shoving, licking, making demands. it didn’t take much for him to open. and she shoved it all in, her mouth, her tongue, making love with his tongue, sucking, breathing him in. she loved kissing his recently shaved skin, his chrubic face, and its baby skin. she sucked on his chin, tonguing his cleft, then licked his cheeks like she was ravenous and his cheeks the manna, then kissed his forehead, his nose, and back to his lips. her lips, her cheeks could never tire of that constant, hard kissing and sucking, kissing his face, his lips.

< < lunch break over :) >>

that hug
that infused
that glow
that warmth
that glued
those bodies
that hungered
that want

this now
this time
this moment
this knowledge
this sad tear
this acceptance

that we
that hour
that evening
that was
that, was nothing
but
a moment
one moment
that came
that went
i loved
u loved
we loved
now
it’s dead

No, I don’t know everything. I don’t know it at all rather. But that does not stop me from giving advice to all and sundry now, does it. :)

And here’s my advice for today. Go ahead .. Just Do It!!! Thank you Nike! :)

It’s alright
If your heart wants it truly
Just do it

It’s alright
If that’s all you’ve been thinking of
Just do it

Don’t think
Don’t shy away
Your wish
Is just a sky away
So spread your wings
And take that leap
You might fly high above
Or maybe fall in a heap

It’s alright
If you fall, you will stand up
Just do it

It’s alright
It’ll hurt only if you cry
Just do it

Listen to your heart
Lock your reasoning in a room
Go fly away
Fall, burst, mushroom … < < i know this is not gelling :( >>

It’s alright
It’s alright
Go fly
Just do it …

:-)

this is a generality on most MILs in the general region of the Indian sub-continent only …

mothers-in-law; they are not appreciated around most of the world. why? it’s maybe because the relationship starts with a (huge) lie; calling them ‘mother’ from day 1. i can just say for myself, i couldn’t do it. call someone my mother when she is of course not? mother-like maybe; maybe ‘masi’ is more apt, but mother ..?? hmmm .. i don’t know.

but that’s just one thing. the problem with MILs is that they start getting all bossy and controlling, completely insensitive to the fact that the bride has just entered a new life, a new home, a completely new environment, an unfamiliar territory. the last thing the poor bride needs is someone to come stand over her already burdened head. they forget that it’s important at this stage for the bride that you just shower warmth, understanding, and most of all give her all the space possible. it’s really sad and depressing for women who get married just because they are told to. no thought is given to their choice, their likes/dislikes, what they would’ve wanted to do in life if you’d just .. freed them ** sigh **. they are made to leave everyone and everything they know and love. change even their names (on top of that some women maintain their “husband’s” names even after being abandoned, kicked out of the house, divorced … appalling, is what i feel). and in the “new” home again their wishes are completely side-lined. they are not even supposed to give voice to their wishes, which get drowned under their husband’s wishes anyways. i have seen husbands shut their respective wives up so rudely even in full public view and poor things just simper and quieten down. it’s pretty common in the northern parts of India. wife-beating is fairly common in southern parts of India too, but i think it doesn’t happen here so openly.

and so starts the vicious circle. all those millions of years of suppression, slavery, not being allowed to talk openly, not being allowed to do anything they like, or want to do, forgetting what they like to do if given a choice … and then comes this poor little thing. a new, tiny lamb. someone who will have to listen to her. just imagine, all that suppressed anger, those slapped down desires, strangled wishes. they had never disappeared, or died down. they were just jam packed, somewhere deep down, simmering, brewing, turning into something very thick, dark, and very bitter. and wham!!! … the dam bursts … the cycle continues …

afterall, saas bhi kabhi bahu thee … sad, they just don’t stop, and look back …

love … please God … some love … more love …

is shakti ka sahara
mera shiv kuchh aur hee hoga …

i am so sorry
for i stamp
and i stomp
on your pure thoughts
your pure emotions

i am so sorry
for being what i am
it’s no excuse, that
i am what i am
i wish
i was
more
so much more
maybe something
someone else

so i am sorry
please forgive me
it hurts
and in hurting too
‘i am’ being selfish
not hurting
cos you hurt
but hurting
for being
what i am

i DESPERATELY need a shoulder massage … DESPERATELY … they’re jammin’ :-/

… and i forgot to get my clip, i won’t be able to hold my hair together. though they’re looking nice today, if i have to say so myself. all washed and clean and silky and shiny, falling all over my face so nicely .. :) .. i should wash them more often .. hmmm .. dear, dear, sweet God, do provide the motivation .. :)

*********************************************************************************************************************

diwano se ye mat poochho
diwano pe kya guzri hai …

— for fart-a-lots ;) … hahahahahaha!!! :)

how deeply (your) actions affect
how your feelings sway
loving and so caring
all tender after the play

i like to have people around me who don’t pay attention to the words coming out of my mouth but know exactly what i am saying …

************************************************************************************************************************

i got this new webcam … the picture is not clear at all .. :(

saw this line here, http://infochangeindia.org/200904177694/Film-Forum/Documentary/The-politics-of-popular-culture.html: “…this is an important film with enormous archival value.”

sounds funny doesn’t it .. enormous ‘archival’ value ..

i am a huge promoter of these (three) words. and i rarely let a chance to use them slip by. but i am re-thinking it a bit. first i used to think that they don’t understand … but now i think it’s i who misunderstood …

more later … there’s so much .. but all .. twisted up ..

*******************************************************************************************************************

i can’t sleep. it’s 12:26 am and i can’t sleep. what’s worse is that i feel like eating something, when i had a nice dinner of rajma chawal (rice n curried kidney beans), and one whole onion. i like my onions smashed, and not chopped or sliced with a knife. i could smash an onion with my fist a few years back. my mom had passed on this taste to me when i was little. and of course, it tasted much, much yummier that way, a smashed onion, with roti and daal, or sabji, or rajma, or chholey. even she can’t do it now, smash an onion with her fist; well, she is .. 68 i think. and i, my fist, my hand, is just plain old arthritic. or maybe it’s been so long, i’m just scared to try. maybe i should … :)

there’s nothing nice on tv anymore. even hbo has been showing boring movies.

this is a nice song, arrey yaron dosti badi hee haseen hai: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YcewaMBit0Q

:-)

*******************************************************************************************************************

i had put this as a response to the beautiful words The Beautiful Blue Athena had posted:

i will hold my emptiness
close to my heart
not a joy, nor sorrow,
i will let trickle in

you be my emptiness
you be in my heart
be the red of my blood
the redundant swish-swash

we were once known as a “unit”, she and i (to her rosy blushes and my beaming cheeks). that’s when i first came to know about the usage of this term “unit”, and i quite liked it. just that the world didn’t know that the “unit” had two more lady members … :) … heeheehee!!! :0)

patley-patley dhagon se
(shayad) latakna achha lagta hai
ashaon ke jhootey jangal mein
(shayad) bhatakna achha lagta hai …

****************************************************************************

madhavan looks soooo cute in those airtel ads. i want that … :-)

****************************************************************************

why am i feeling so worthless .. i mean, i’ve always known that i am, but it’s bothering me now. like everyone’s gonna know that i am and i’m gonna lose my job or something. it never bothered me before, this thought of not having a job or money and being a … vagabond. but it bothers me now, now that i have cy .. not just bother, it’s down right scary … brrrrrrrr……

oh my God … i am sulking .. how embarrassing .. ** blush ** ** blush ** .. :)

i am not a nice person. my search on foods that can help one become nice did not bear fruits. tut! it’s … difficult … being nice .. even pretending to be … it’s so much easier to scream and shout, and cuss and be so very mean and tell everyone to just go f*** their ******* … just be myself … ah! my head hurts … or maybe it’s just this deeply intense heat … ahhh!!!

in the morning, nay, late last night, i was holding a tomato in my hands and thinking, that if i were a vegetable/fruit, i think i might be a tomato. so the next you bite into it … do it with love … it’ll squirt all over you .. hehe .. :)

*************************************************************************************************************************************

lyrics of the day:

teri duniya mein dil lagta nahi
wapas bula le
mein sajde mein gira hoon
mujhko aye malik utha le …

*************************************************************************************************************************************

cy: mama, stop going to office. we will go to pune, or delhi, and live there …

me: but baby, if i don’t have a job, we won’t have any money … where will we live then …

cy: in a hotel …

[[ hahahahahahahahahahahahaha ]]

me: but baby, one needs money to live in a hotel also .. where will we get the money to live in a hotel ..

cy: from the ATM .. you have those cards no .. and so many of them …

hmmmmm….

and this, after having animatedly demonstrated the “how banks works” and “where money comes from” illustration twice … :)

***************************************************************************************************

just….

kuchh pieces
merey dil-o-dimag ke
kuchh meri
angrayion,
meri melancholic
musings ke
kuchh bits
lost thoughts
and thoda
my rumblings
aatey jaatey
udtey tukdey
kahin pakad liye tumney
wo rang
bikharey khwab
haathon mein jakad liye tumney

ab kya kahoon
kya karoon mein
wo sirf
kuchh tukdey hein
tumharey paas
tasveer
nahi banegi
mein kuchh der baithoongi
do ghantey
do din
fir bus.
un tukdron se
mujhey jakarney ki
zanzir nahi banegi

ab kya kahoon
kya karoon mein
thodey
under the influence tum
clueless mein
time wasting
both of us
in hellos
in byes kee
ek consistent
lambi lakeer nahi banegi

is it possible to have sex on a bike, while riding it? as in, the bike is moving, on the road, and the girl, or the guy, is riding it with the guy, or the gal lying there between the bike and the gal, or the guy … ?? i think it’ll be pretty … vrrrooooooommmmmmm … if it can be done … :-)

**************************************************************************************************************************************

long, long, long, long back, i had taken admission tests for NIFT (National Institute of Fashion Technology). of course i didn’t make it. i hadn’t “prepared” for the various, math based, algorithms based, aptitude tests and stuff. i met our good family doctor in the bus soon after that. she asked me how it went, and i told her. she just smiled, maybe laughed a bit. i questioned with my eyes. she said why do you think that have all those tests? i ahemed, and uhuhed, and ummmmmed …. and then she said … it’s for sheer elimination. so many people applying, and that’s the only way they can find to cut numbers. and i agree. how much more ridiculous they can get. why would i go practice math sums and equations and god forsaken algorithms for becoming a fashion designer. does this kinda thing happen in other countries too? ridiculous …

besides, if i had “that” kinda aptitude, there’s a huge chance i wouldn’t be knocking a fashion school’s doors .. haan … !!?!!

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Thank you God, for everything there is, and everything that isn’t …

the Earth
doesn’t beckon
the Rain
doesn’t relent
they do
just what they are
meant to
and not
succumb
to something inane
a desire
consuming on that

it stops you
from being like
the Earth, or the Rain
like what
you are meant to
but just
consumes
your thoughts
your actions
your nights
and, your days

***************************************************************************************************************

read some beautiful lines in someone’s profile on the net. they inspired these:

IT IS all very simple
it is the ‘I’ (”you”) who makes it hard
love is never a battle
(real) love never scars
you be, what you are my love
seek reciprocity
and you make it a game
before you love me
love yourself
look in the mirror
smile, and spit (out) my name …

***************************************************************************************************************

hmmm … i wish i could paint right now …

give me blue
i will paint the water and the sky
then give me red
i’ll paint the love that surrounds
the orange
of your passion
my sun
some splatters of purple
of my desire
strewn across your face
smeared
all over your lips and mouth
and there i will explode
my entire color palate
infuse you
with my red warmth
turn white
our naked beings
__________________________________

i wish i could paint
my breasts a bright yellow
my taut, tight nipple
standing erect and proud

will you look into my eyes then
or the yellow will distract you
its my lips you’d want
or let the teet tease
.
.
.

***************************************************************************************************************

filmy dialog .. :)

neechey aag lagegi, to doodh to ublega hee … ubalney do ..
__________________________________________________________________

you’re the fire
i’m the milk
and so i’ll boil
n boil n up
n up and all about
i’ll spill, i’ll hiss
and sputter
all over the floor
.
.
don’t wipe
it off
the thin film
that’s dried
let it be
the sign of my spill
let it dry, n crack,
and form flakes
on my skin

***************************************************************************************************************

once, long back, after this song on tv, ‘hum tujhsey mohabbat karke sanam…’ i got a beating-of-my-life … for a long time after that, i couldn’t listen to that song … :) actually, i think i had flunked in some test/exam, and i hadn’t shown the paper to my parents. my mom found it in my bag, and then showed it to dad, who (un)fortunately was visiting around that time … hehehe!!! wow .. what times … :) … veer teased me about it for a long time with that song … :)

wo subah kabhi to ayegi … :)

**************************************************************************************************************

life would’ve been much easier if i could just fly. i can’t, irrespective of whether i believe it or not.

**************************************************************************************************************

as a kid, when i played hide-and-seek, every time i hid (at the best hiding place possible), i couldn’t stay at peace for one second in that place cos then i’d wanna go pee like crazy … every time …

**************************************************************************************************************

it rained … and boy did it rain … it was AWESOMEEE!!! :-) ah! rains. beautiful rains. i looooove rains … :) i wanted to scream, to shout … i looooooove rains …

thank you Babaji … :)