Well, even for an over-imaginative me, this end of the world cry was futile and hokum. Glad that I didnt give into silly emotions and make any stupid calls here and there.
Then again, what if I made those calls?
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Freedom
What is freedom, really? No, I mean really! Is it a right, or is it a state of mind? Why does its definition change the deeper we sink into our thoughts?
Anthony Hopkins in INSTINCT makes you think this over and over again. Rightly so, till you have stripped down facts, figures and illusions... And you have either opened up your mind, or left halfway, increasingly scared while realizing that you comfort zone is an illusion you choose to live in. The worst part? Deep down, you realise everything we have been doing, is wrong from within.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Bad day
Traditional bad day. Job screwed up on its own, things that could go wrong, went haywire... And stinging memories flooding with disturbing anger. Oh, and other RB issues.
Naah... Still have to make dinner, wash clothes and clean up the room. Its 10.30 pm now... Didnt notice when I had crossed over to Bad Night.
*RB - Retard of a Boss.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
12-12-2012
It now seems 12-12-2012 was about our loss of the Pandit. A loss to musiv, the country and the world.
Pronaam.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Meaninglessness in a hollow life
Kahlil Gibran once wrote, 'the greater that sorrow carves into your being, the greater joy you can contain.'
Well he didnt mention what happens if sorrow carves and carves till it reaches the other end, leaving a hollow cylinder. Where even the greatest joy can only pass and not be held. If anyone has a clue or suggestion, my audience is on.
Monday, December 10, 2012
It wont BE soon before long
Its been a year and half, and a little bit more, since it closed. That warm feeling, which made all emotions sink like ink on blot paper... I can call it mine no more.
And since then, LIFE hasnt been any smooth either. Its no surprise, given there's not an hour that dare pass when I dont think of her. Things feel like yesterday, and then a moment later its a scribble on a forgotten papyrus. Silly me, but true.
I had tried some funny ideas trying to work my way around this hurdle life brought me. Or I brought upon myself, says the new me. But no amount of being busy came to assist. Neither did the trying to forget routine. Nor any other syntax.
All it takes is one call on her part... Or even anyone asking, if things got better between us. They see hope where I know none exists. Silly them, this time.
I need a way out. It.must come fast enough, because after reading my own diaries from the last few years, I realised this is ME all over the place, a person I would have been ashamed to know I would become one day, if I had known then.
So dear blog, here I am, venting, hyperventilating... And in no less dire need OF a ventilator apparatus, which in this case, is an unfortunate you. I agree, I have to accept and move on, and dear blog, lets hope it works out for both of us. I want back some OF that old ME... The one that laughed so loud that someone's deaf grandpa would wake up and ask who's there... The one that would strumm the guitar once again to Ave Maria, Greensleeves, or Lovestory, and ek je chhilo raaja... The one to spin a poem to calm any emotional upheaval... And one that tried to hold on to the sweeter and curious bits of life through 3rd person humour and photography. Oh that, I miss so badly.
And since then, LIFE hasnt been any smooth either. Its no surprise, given there's not an hour that dare pass when I dont think of her. Things feel like yesterday, and then a moment later its a scribble on a forgotten papyrus. Silly me, but true.
I had tried some funny ideas trying to work my way around this hurdle life brought me. Or I brought upon myself, says the new me. But no amount of being busy came to assist. Neither did the trying to forget routine. Nor any other syntax.
All it takes is one call on her part... Or even anyone asking, if things got better between us. They see hope where I know none exists. Silly them, this time.
I need a way out. It.must come fast enough, because after reading my own diaries from the last few years, I realised this is ME all over the place, a person I would have been ashamed to know I would become one day, if I had known then.
So dear blog, here I am, venting, hyperventilating... And in no less dire need OF a ventilator apparatus, which in this case, is an unfortunate you. I agree, I have to accept and move on, and dear blog, lets hope it works out for both of us. I want back some OF that old ME... The one that laughed so loud that someone's deaf grandpa would wake up and ask who's there... The one that would strumm the guitar once again to Ave Maria, Greensleeves, or Lovestory, and ek je chhilo raaja... The one to spin a poem to calm any emotional upheaval... And one that tried to hold on to the sweeter and curious bits of life through 3rd person humour and photography. Oh that, I miss so badly.
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