Saturday, November 12, 2005
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
so many beautiful things perish without being celebrated or cherished. souls, sounds, sights, the unsung many. yet nature goes on creating these little moments of joy regardless of appreciation. is its supereme self-indulgence or is this a pointer to us, to create beauty in little ways. wearing the colour of sunsets always makes me feel beautiful
a lizard slithers down the wall and before it hits the bottom of the floor it leaps to the curtain across the wall, misses but in a moment is climbing the curtain again. it lives between these walls, its home. it never scares me. i always side step when an ant crosses, can never bring myself to kill it and yet i know if it hurts me i will.
the streets of love are in another town. the moon outside was eclipsed on an another night. james white plays in my head when i want to be happy yet i cant hear him today. his sweet baritone is sexy.sexy as my mood when i want to be. U2 on the streets of newyork singing about you.
somedays are empty and some minds are so. on days like these and for minds like these is rambling and so i ramble. clothes of spun gold, cheerful and shiny like me but its not always so and i'm not always this dark but i let the ink spread on this space, a blot to drain my darkness.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Sweet and scented
Soft and supple
Flows like the
But I’ll never
So go and suckle
Fuchsia chiffon dress
Only for 55
Of 18th century verse
To be had for 55
With aromatic coffee
Can be arranged
At Hour by 55
I will love you for reasons more than 55
I will love you in ways more than 55
I will love you for years more than 55, god willing, health permitting
But if you mess with me, I will undo you in ways far more than 55
Your pieces will swish with uncle Corleone’s fishes
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Thursday, October 13, 2005
After Sehri, I say my prayers quickly, surf the net a bit perhaps and then try to go back to sleep which eludes me for the next couple of hours. In fact, I have become nocturnal, sleeping away a good part of the day.... not ideal and something which I am told takes away points from my fast but since I’m in a position to do it, so I do it...albeit with guilt.
.... Well that was just to give everybody an idea of what Sehri is.
Somtimes comfort is found in the unlikeliest of places. Silence usually harsh is something i welcome at certain times. Sounds of silence soothes my mind. Deep in the night in the distance car tires burn up tarmac, speeding away chased by dogs car spotting away the night. The hum and drone of appliances starting and stopping and starting again, the clock ticks by...the only sound disturbing. I turn over and think of his smile, a little boy's smile, disarming and absolute. It is a rare smile, its got gentleness and it stems from strength. God keep his smile. A smile that rings in morning no matter what the time of day.
Steals the sky
Monday, October 10, 2005
Friday, October 07, 2005
and then back again.
you can never trust what you see.
beauty masked as a scar
or the scars left behind by beauty.
beauty and the beast are but one.
just a different side, just a different time.
Monday, October 03, 2005
serenity i wrap around me, a cloak hiding the turmoil inside. will you hold me when it slips down my shoulders.... oh honey will you talk to me when i wake up in the middle of the night with nothing but darkness holding us together? when i scream, hold me down, if i run, wait for me. love will come for us with the sun. if you hold me i will make your dreams come true. i am not sweet as you my angel and i will scratch till you bleed but i will be there licking your wounds and i will make you a love sweeter than wine. oh baby let me be your girl tonight...not just tonight but for all the nights to come.
like little bits of torn paper caught in the backstream of a fast moving car, bits of words twirl before my eyes faster than i can voice them. like the sky turning pink at the coming of dusk, my thought turn pinkish at the thought of you. you who are not there, you who are only in my mind.
...thoughts the shade of crushed strawberries in cream
Friday, September 30, 2005
It is sad when cities let their oldest inhabitants die, used and yet uncared for.
the evening breeze on my sweat sparkled cheeks takes me across the miles to you. ah! these noisy birds, fly away, phsshooo now! i walk a little faster but still only in circles. i look over the dying pond. stillness is malignant. I have a strong urge to churn up these stagnant waters....to save it, to make it breathe again.
in the shade of trees
the birds sang and loved
we walked beneath
from the waters to the skies
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
found - flat and dry
gone - lost
silence in the sky.
i hear her lilting laughter in your face in the darkness of this room.
making excuses, reasons for you, silently.
adding drops of silence in your coffee, bitter and no cream. always.
cat cries in the distance and i bite my tounge.
sea air rushes in unmindful of manners turning you over to me.
i bend down. the body remembers what the mind forgets. what it wants to forget.
gather sea breeze in your arms -lay it under my feet for silence squeezes my heart.
where does this sadness comes from? my heart grieves for wounds which it has not ...cries for losing that which it never found.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Few days back, an astrologer told me that the letters G and P are ‘unlucky’ and hence I should change my name or its spelling. This bit was free and of course the correction would have cost me a couple of hundred bucks. Of course, I did not believe him but there was this niggling feeling that perhaps he is right. From someone who always considered herself as fortunate and blessed, I have started picking out patterns of misfortune in my life. Hardly a cheerful sport and the strange part is when I considered myself lucky, I use to feel better and positive, its the reverse now.
I am not an independent person. I have made many mistakes in my life but the worst mistake has been to neglect my dreams to the point that I don’t have any now. I sought to please. Perhaps I got convinced that as long as I would please others, they would take care of me. It doesn’t work that way or if it does then not for long but how do I take care of myself now, how is it done?
Well the one thing that I am beginning to grasp, tentatively yet, is that there is no such thing as a good life or a bad life. There is only interesting life or a not-so-interesting life. Furthermore the interesting-ness should be defined in narrow and wholly individual terms. It is my own person I need to strengthen, my will. There has to be a largeness of the soul, which should expand to contain more, but it should be rich enough to sustain me as well. I have no idea how to nourish and grow my soul thus but this is something I need to learn. How does one feed one’s soul?
At least my soul should be independent. That is what I need to learn. This is where I should begin.
Friday, September 09, 2005
I will be gone for while. Time out for me. I am not expecting to find all the answers. A part of me wants to remain and wallow in misery but I have to find the energy to at least want to go on. I hope I’m not sounding too bleak here. I tend to dramatize perhaps and I would rather talk about cheerful things here.... I hate bringing others down with me or making them uncomfortable. It never does help, you know. A lil bit of it is fine but more than that is too much indulgence. Anxiety tastes like metal on the tongue and vinegar in stomach and you tend to get dissolved in it as if you were a piece of chalk in something acidic. Dissolving entirely, lost forever. I am just rambling here, maybe I need to.... a lil bit.
It is still early evening. I think I will go out...shopping is such a chore for me! I rarely enjoy it. By the by, I just finished reading, the world according to Garp by John Irving. I had never heard of the book before but I could barely put it down once I started it. Its a delightful, insightful book about life and death and loving and how hard all three are.
The candle's heart
With the night
Am I losing perspective here, surely. I just read a factory-owner died of cardiac arrest on being troubled and terrified by the power company people for the bills, which he had paid. That is the power an Indian government official can wield, the power of life and death.
I just hate it when somebody is bullied so.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Friday, September 02, 2005
Seven things I should be doing... now:
Seven things I would ask God if I actually believed in his existence:
Seven things that I think are funny. Haha :
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
let these words warn you.
a changeling, a dangerous creature.
keep me at a distance and you are forever mine.
will keep you dangling on a string.
carrying your bobbing heart
on a red string.
on somedays i like myself and on somedays i don't. there are days when things begin to make sense and then as suddenly the thread is lost and i am left grappling with the fast unfolding yarn, slipping out of my hands. I want to read words warm like claret on a winter afternoon. There is somewhere I have got to be, there is someone else i forgot to be. Sunshine on water a thousand stars dance. warm skin blushes to warmer hues of desire. a yearning a longing; dont want to be buried under ashes of unrealised desires.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
I hope to see you tomorrow. I hope you find me smiling. I have been waiting for you since eternity but you never kept your promise. Oh, why did you take so long!
Tell me, how will I recognize you? Will I know you by the image I carry of you in my heart? What if you are not the same? Will it make a difference to me? Ah!!
Tell me, have you too been waiting for me? They say tomorrow is but today revisited but is it true?
Why did you make me wait so??
I was not ready for you! Is that what you are saying? Oh so it all depended upon me and here I was all along waiting for you to show up. If I only I could have been ready earlier!
What is so funny…why are you smiling? Hmmm!
Yes I can see your point, first I waited for tomorrow, now I cry for yesterday, ah what a fool I am...thank you for pointing that out!
You already got me smiling; I can see you will keep your promise…I can hardly wait to see my tomorrow even if its different from what I have been expecting.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Like all life’s problems; solve a tiny niggling problem now, even though it might not feel good doing so, will save you from a major headache later on.
Last night, when I was raiding the refrigerator, I found myself wishing that my life were like somebody else’s, to be more specific, that I was somebody else. It probably was the guilt at bingeing. It struck me that it would make little difference, if I were another, I would be simply exchanging one set of problems with another and further that each of us has been given certain traits specific to solving our peculiar set of problems. What difference does it make then which set of problems we are solving? Its my own peculiarities that I need to work upon. It is my own skirt that needs straightening. Only weak people like me wish for different circumstances. Besides could I handle somebody else's problems? I'd probably feel like a fish out of water there! Its so much easy to blame others, even if its that sinful bar of chocolate and that piece of cheese lying in the refrigerator! mamma!!
I think for me lasting peace lies in being able to master my own mind without tormenting it.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
sucking fingers dipped in honey
and so autumn begins
Sunday, August 21, 2005
I am an ordinary person living a small town life in a decrepit town in India. I have not traveled very much. To meet people of different customs has always been a cherished dream for me. Even as kid geographical boundaries did not make sense to me, they seemed to be lines decided by people I did not even know, let alone like or respect. This is before I learned about globalization and freedom of movement, intellectual capital and the World Wide Web. For someone like me, this has been an unexpected bonus. I have come across some of the most interesting and enchanting people, I know, here.
So here is to ALL OF YOU! Salute!
...and thank you Sue
Friday, August 19, 2005
Monday, August 15, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
I pick your words, honeysuckle sweet. Wild as the breeze that blows the warm august sky.
It is the light in your bright august shine eyes, which will warm my cold heart.
Unshed tears in your eyes, sparkling stardust. My tears turn precious when they wash your face.
The nectar of your words going down my throat, with each drop my heart comes alive.
August comes winter will follow. Snow there won’t be but the sun shall come. An unending thought. Waiting for tomorrow. Have a nice weekend guys! toot, toot!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Like the sweetness in a fruit is a gift from god, abundance is a blessing only if so sanctioned by god. Abundance is only half a blessing. That which we have prayed for can yet makes us cry if he so wills it. In a blink a boon becomes a bane. My prayers have always been sort of a wish list but I am going to my amend my prayers now and ask him to make good for me in whatever I have.
My parents are coming home tomorrow. They had gone to visit my kid brother who lives in another city and I can’t wait to wrap my arms around maa. Her warm shapeless body is like a soft perfumed cloud which envelopes me in its warmth and soothes me with its fragrance. One has got a cold and another stomach flu; I hope they reach home safely. I worry about them. They are growing old. Its disturbing to see them so.
As people beg
Monday, August 08, 2005
Some greens which i like:
Green juicy apples
Green tomatoes, fried in a little bit of butter
Pale green leaves
Lettuce and peeled cucumbers
Deep dark green silk
Paintings of bamboo leaves
Mossy thick dark leaves
Olive green leather
Early morning sunshine on green grass
Rain, though it has no colour but for me its green because nothing makes greens greener than rain.
Then there are some which I don’t like:
Green eye shadow, not even on anyone else!
A particular shade of dull green on walls
The green which grows on long-gone-things
The greenish lime from hard water, which covers taps, block shower pores.
Green coloured liquids
Green cardboard files, there are so many of them in this world!
Green bright satin
Green gooey paste of henna
I have typed green once too many times for now, so much so that I am beginning to wonder if I am spelling it correctly.
by the way, i have added a tag-board on the side-bar, feel free to post whatever comes to your mind there. :)
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
i'm the cracked earth at your feet,
the moon at your window,
the howling wind.
i'm broken at sundown,
dissolving in darkness,
melting in your tears.
if only, i could ask you to come away with me.
Will I be true or will my words be like the rest, fine and fallow?
Lay your hand on my heart. Look into my face. Tell me what you see.
I'm afraid to make promises. I have seen love die young.
When it dies there aint nothing you can do but just give it a decent burial.
the forever they talk about, i have been searching all my life. if love has a shelf life then why does it not say so on the bottle. songs of love lasting a lifetime are plenty but then why do these words sound like lies?
Still baby, tell me some lies tonight. these words will come true if you believe them. This heart might shine like gold, yet.
come to me. walk away with me. its getting harder to walk alone.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Thank you guys, it means a lot more to me than I can say here!
It is almost five in the evening and after a morning of unblemished sunlight, some naughty clouds have been gathering to make merry and wash us all down with some rain. Some silly friend of my cousin has come to pick him up and is honking like he has invented it, I want to drape him over the wheel and make him croak!
On moist skin
I have discovered that if you put a teaspoon or so of orange marmalade to a cup of green tea, it tastes and smells divine. The delicate smell of orange blended with the aroma of tea and the warm reddish colour of the drink, its totally worth trying.
Mama wants me to go out with her somewhere, anywhere and I am not in the mood to do so. I would have to change out of these dirty rags, put on my lenses etc not that I always do this but ma gets angry with me when I step out of the house looking like a crumpled bed sheet. If I don’t go, I will feel guilty so I guess I will, leaving you with a poem I found some days back. Heard a few of its lines in a movie, then a friend told me the name of the poem. Its by Dylan Thomas and it is beautiful. I went on to read some more of his poems and he is fabulous!!! Enjoy!
And Death Shall Have No Dominion
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I am not a great beauty but I have a very transparent face. If I am feeling good, I can pass off as nice but I am feeling bad, I can give Salvador Dali serious competition. Harmony and peace are not just words for me; they must exist in my world for me to feel good. I am not talking about quiet and ambient music but more than that. Everything should be in its place, revolving own its own axis, happy in their world and I feel content. This is not a realistic way of looking at things.
When I give of myself I give totally from the triumvirate of mind-body-soul. A kind word, a cheerful smile, friendly banter, these are the things I give for and when I don’t get them I feel so rejected…utterly lost and angry. Oh I can be angry, though my rage is usually not a show which runs on many theaters, its usually for private and exclusive viewing, usually my own.
There is a nerve, which runs from my brow to my forehead which sorts of stands out when I am tense, and I look so very sad then. I looked at myself in the mirror just now and I turned my face away…for I could not bear to look at myself so…did not even recognize myself. The worst part was my role in it.
water from her hair
" keep looking"
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
Is there any feeling more subtle, more delicate, more intoxicating and more delicious than the feeling of being attracted to somebody? I doubt it. Whether one chooses to act upon it or not, that is not the point. It may not always be wise to act upon such feelings and acting upon them might even break the spell sometimes.
However, just pause, consider and relish in your mind, how your body feels, your mind too the time when find yourself drawn irresistibly towards this other person. It is almost as transient as scent and as inexplicable too. Fragrance, leaves its traces on you that are there yet not quite; like a half-revealed secret, tantalizing. For somebody like me, who would rarely act upon such feelings, it has got an even more piquant taste to it.
There is a certain tiny fuchsia flower, which use to grow in my lawn in little pots. It had dark green leaves and its petals were very soft as petals will be. For some reason, I use to love rubbing the petals of this tiny flower between my fingers, and they would leave a faint pinkish stain on them. I would furtively rub that stain on my lips. Damn, Ma should have allowed me to wear lipstick much sooner. It was not as if it would colour my lips even slightly but still I liked my lips to be imbued with the grassy, slightly bitter taste of that flower, which only I knew was there on my lips.
Like a stain it leaves its marks on you, the telltale signs.
Originally uploaded by sa_ku_ra.
thank you, and, gulnaz, i hope you don't mind that i use your blog to connect people to this beautiful person who left this world too early and whose tragical leave let many people to think once again how precious and fragile the life is and how meaningful are the connections between us.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
I feel this world has got patches of banana peel; camouflaged in smooth words and nice hands. You know them, when you slip on them and there is no way you will know beforehand about them.
So, eat your bananas. Know your bananas, that is the only way you will have experience with the banana peels and maybe you will get good at catching yourself before you fall.
Bananas are good for you; eat one, once daily.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
on moist skin
her body curved
Monday, July 11, 2005
2. Babbling Brooke
3. Cannot Be Trusted
4. Every Passing Moment
The top five things I miss about my childhood are:
1. I miss goofing around with my brothers, even though it got me into a lot of trouble with my parents. I miss fighting with them; I could actually throw them down then. Maybe they were just letting me feel good about myself but it did feel good. We would be constantly turning the house upside down with our make-believe games. Poor Ma! One of the games was covering the floor with talcum powder and then sliding across the smooth floor, bare feet, dangerous too but I don’t remember getting hurt. I use to fight with my brothers all the time but the moment dad would scold them, I would start crying.
2. Every Sunday, till I was about 9 or 10, Dad use to give us a shower, shampoo our hair etc all three of us together in this big bathroom of ours, while we stood waiting our turn in our undies. My kid brother (the fourth one) was too young to join us. We would then catch this English movie later; usually a western or a martial art movie, in a small cinema on Sundays, the matinee show. I miss that.
3. I miss listening to stories. My dad has got a good voice and he would read to us sometimes, I even remember recording one of his renditions once. I use to love listening to stories and I had our maid, uncles, grandma, aunts, next-door neighbor-boy, almost anyone who would agree to tell me a story.
4. My mama’s aunt would come down to our town sometimes, perhaps to lend her a hand. (poor mama, now when I look back I deserve every thrashing I ever got and then some more.) she would make the best tomato-chutney in the world. I make a mean one myself but it somehow never tastes quite like hers, not even my mother can make it like her and my mother is the best cook in the world. She, is very very old now, last when I met her she was so frail and though tall, she seemed to have shrunk. I keep telling myself she is fine, I feel guilty for not being there for her, she lives in another city and then there is life, something which seems to have passed her by.
5. I flunked my class fourth examinations because I did not get the passing marks required in mathematics, I was short of a few points. Otherwise I had done well but the rule was if one failed in English, hindi or maths, one would not be promoted even if one got passing marks overall. I came back home, all flustered with shame and before I could say anything, I met dad in the door way and he just enveloped me in his big arms and I felt so OK!
Now its my turn to tag and I tag:
I would enjoy reading your answers if you choose to post them and please, it is not limited to the above 5 only.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Thursday, June 30, 2005
I am a bit quirky in the sense, that I enjoy, (its almost a physical sensation) an intelligent, honest mind. That intelligence might be in a song, a conversation, image or the written word. It gives me a high. When I had started blogging I had no idea, this would become a place for my daily fix for the aforementioned buzz. I have come across such incredible writers here!!! Phew! They write in different voices and I recognize each one by their individual voice by now. They write about their lives, their desires, their fears, and their points of view. The beauty of their minds shines through in their words and i enjoy reading them. Thank you guys! All of you.
However, I come across some comments on blogs, usually anonymous by people who feel smarter when they run down others and it makes me sooo angry! I wonder at these people, I wonder at their spirits. I am not saying one should only say nice things or not criticize but its the mean-ness which galls! Anyway they are small stuff, should not sweat them. So adios for a few days, I am gone tomorrow. ;)
Monday, June 27, 2005
The monsoons, the dark, swollen clouds are here, bearing beneficence. Suddenly there is twinkling gladness in the hearts, the greens are greener and the sun is milder like a father in a good mood.
I like my skin when it rains. Its moister and I don't really mind the sweat too in these times as it cools me down. Just a few days earlier and it was too hot even to sweat. I would get headaches almost daily, sort of like a fever. Thank god for those tiny tablets of Paracetmol, I must have them on me, for I never know when a headache strikes. Those drying winds and that angry sun have made their exit for this part of the play.
The sound of ceaseless water dripping and the cooler winds are still to come but the promise has been made.
There is something about this time of the year so special. I think the romance of the clouds is scattered with the rains and it imbues all that which it soaks.
Poetry tastes better with raindrops, I think.
Tell me, is the rose naked...? by Pablo Neruda
Tell me, is the rose naked Or is that her only dress?
Friday, June 24, 2005
bricks upon bricks
and they make up a wall
they go high and they go wide
and they go nowhere at all.
bricks upon bricks
and you can break your head
against the wall.
bricks upon bricks
one day they will all
crumble and fall.
bricks upon bricks
and they make up a wall
they go high and they go wide
and they go nowhere at all.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
It’s a terrible longing when you cannot even put a name to it. Restlessness. There is a need to be somewhere else yet strangely totally at home with myself, here, now. I lay for a long time on my unmade bed, over the disturbed quilts, thinking about nothing at all. On my tongue, names kept rolling along like a slideshow on a lollipop and they all seemed like a taste remembered but not the flavor sought.
Names are good; they are like the filing system of the brain, the single word codes to many meters of memories. Those memories are like tiny maps of time and me at a certain place and those names are the signposts, some saying don’t go there, that road is no good, others doubtful and still others, good enough campsites. Some fractions of those names belong as much to me as they belong to the namesake. I own some parts of those names, those parts which were with me and which I took away with me. I carry those names but I don’t need to or maybe I do, as signposts to me. I think there is something wrong with this. Those signposts are pointing backwards but I have to follow the road ahead.
My friend has been calling me to her city for a mini holiday and I think will go soon. I can hardly wait to see her. We always have so much fun, being silly together. Even when we talk about sad stuff, we end up laughing like a couple of pre-adolescent girls. The first time we bonded I think, was the night she slept over in my house and we talked the night through. I don’t remember what we talked about, we must have been six or seven or maybe younger but I remember my mum had laid out a bed for us in the living room and we were sharing it, sharing stuff we could tell absolutely nobody else, mighty important stuff. When we needed to turn over, we switched sides so that we could continue talking to each other, facing each other. She lives in another city. We have spent our lives visiting each other and yet we still have loads to talk about. I must add here, that there have been long spaces in between where we almost lost contact but when we met again those spaces were only just some more stuff to talk about.
I tried writing a bit of erotica today but it ended up sounding false and sort of clichéd. It was true in parts but not true enough. It is important to be true although it is so easy to lie. To steal a heart, one can lie. One can lie to build a home but neither that heart nor that home will remain happy if bought with lies…. although lies are so tempting…like detours to the goalpost. Some guiding souls will tell you when you lie but most will not. You got to watch out for your own little lies.
“This land is your land, this land is my land/ from California to the New York island.”, an old song written by somebody called Woody Guthrie, has been playing in my head, all this while, in the scratchy old voice of Mr. Bruce Springsteen tempting me to sing and all I can remember are the first two lines.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
with each sip.
dribbling honey on
licking fingers clean
go, go, go!
Saturday, June 18, 2005
...he holds me
never let me go.
...... The blur
......... Passes you by
...... He holds you
......... And spins you
.:A:. left the verse on the comments page of the earlier post, which completes it in a way i had wanted to but could not. hence am posting it again, completed, thanks .:A:.
Friday, June 17, 2005
-I wish you well but please get it, its bloody over, it was over when you turned your back on me, I tell him through tears which he can’t see. –I let go of my pride for you but all you did was cringe at my cravenness at my stupidity, yes that’s what you called it, then, remember?
-You are just drunk; keep the phone down.
But he keeps on talking, talking, saying words which would have someday, long ago, made me very happy, even though they would have been lies then just like they are lies today, drunken lies, fooling himself and fooling me.
-Why don’t you ever mean what you say? I cry, I meant when I had told you that I loved you and I mean it today when I say it is over.
To amuse yourself, you want to string along my heart and in some stupid way of yours, you do care but you care in a way that means nothing to me now. I want more, I want real! You aren’t that, baby and I finally learned it.
Still, wishing you well.
Monday, June 13, 2005
His warm fingers itching to get lost in that web of light, fingers warmer than sun kissed sand when he noticed her feet peeking out from beneath the sheets.
Feet, whose soles were pale and toes, which were struggling with the sheet, searching for warmth...searching for his hands.
His hands took and then rubbed first one foot and then the other. Rubbed them to warmth, rubbed them to rosy reds.
As she lay there being rubbed and warmed, she thought to herself, this is what love is all about, someone to rub your feet when they are cold. While he felt his heart swell, thinking…this must be love, when your hands alone are more precious and sought than the sun itself.
She is the country he is meant to shine upon, as he is the sun she is lost without.
Too simplistic? Perhaps…but what more is there to it?
Friday, June 10, 2005
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
I gave you more than I could, I never held back anything and you took it, you took it all with your grubby greedy hands but then you wiped your hands off your sweet lips and you spit on my face.
I am losing my mind. I am losing you. You stand in a corner always berating me. I am scared of you. Vacuous smiles and empty words are all that you have for me. You are a burden I must bear. You tear my heart to pieces and then you chew those bits of my heart, even as I look on.
I thought you will change, I thought this will be a new day, oh sure, its a new day but nothing new about you.
this did not happen to me.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
in her tiny fingers
her rosebud lips
on our hearts
sweet and milky
- ooh my heart.
God bless all the babies in the world! They are so vulnerable, they make you want to become stronger and prettier and wiser and so much more than what you are today. They make you realize the important things in life, the good things, the correct things, the little things, the big things.
She smiles in her sleep,
god blesses and god keeps.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Originally uploaded by gulnaz.
Allah blessed my brother and my family with a lil baby daughter today. I held the wee bonnie lass for a few seconds and it was like holding a handful of roses or candy fluff...she is so soft and tiny and all pink!
She is kept in the nursery today but she is fine otherwise. Though she was born a few weeks earlier and through a C-section, she is a healthy 7-pound and the mama's is fine too! I am sooo happy, quite overwhelmed with emotions, will write about those emotions later, just wanted to share the good news first and thank you everyone for their good wishes. I am quite drunk on happiness right now to compose my thoughts. :)
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Monday, May 30, 2005
I'm sooo tired, I just want to curl up in the bed with a good book and a nice hot cup of tea and then fall asleep but darn the power problem in this miserable state! I have so many emotions playing around in my head with this little one coming. Btw, my time on the net will be limited, so if I'm slack in commenting you know the reason. I am probably not feeling well ‘coz I am naturally not a low-energy person, maybe my throat infection is still not cured or maybe I am just feeling overwhelmed.
We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?
The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.
...for those who will know about a clenched soul...
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Total volume of music files on my computer:
None, since my sound card went bad, actually i'm flogging this poor computer to its last days...it has got so many problems! grrrr.
The last CD I bought was:
Some albums of Nusrat fateh Ali Khan and Abida Parveen. The former is no more, he was a sufi singer, with an amazing voice and the latter, she too is in her leauge....great stuff.
Songs playing right now:
Miss Sarajevo-Passengers featuring Bono....this is an old compilation in a twin set, released on Diana's death. It has some favourites of mine, like the above one, streets of philadelhia and make me a channel of your peace by sinead 'o connor.
five songs i listen to a lot, or that means a lot to me:
Losing my religion- REMGone fishing - Chris rea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses - U2
Total Eclipse of the heart - Bonnie Tyler
Unforgiven-MetallicaJersey Girl/streets of philadelhia/brillant disguise - Bruce Springsteen
Miracle/blaze of glory-Jon Bon Jovi
Zooropa - U2
I feel good - James Brown
Crazy - Seal
I'm going to stop here, though i should have stopped 5 songs ago but well...i still have many favourites.
Five people to whom I’m passing the baton:
Anumita, Neel Sen, Jamie Dawn, Pecos Blue, Nav Amole and any other who might want to take the this up.