The fear of the unknown is deeply inherent in all of us. ACT I was wonderful. It was clear, precise and a whole lot of fun. But suddenly everything has come to a standstill. ACT II is staring at me, in the face but there is a giant gorge between my last mark on ACT I and the other side/ACT II.
Chances are:
A. I may never get to the other side.
B. I may try but fall into the dark abyss.
C. Or make that one giant leap and get across.
The decision shall be made in exactly 10 mins (hopefully).
I set 2pm as my deadline.
24 March 2012
10 March 2012
How to stay happy, not drink and kill yourself?
Google can try but not make you happy. But at least Google tries.
Warm drinks versus cold ones. Cold, bitter ones. Bitter-sweet ones.
Alienating love from sex, sex from love...sense and sensibility from both.
Stuffing your face with food won't help. What would?
Yoga would not. A night out is temporary relief.
We're all on the edge, we may pop, we may drop.
Spill over and that's the end.
So the question still remains...how to stay happy, not drink and kill yourself.
Warm drinks versus cold ones. Cold, bitter ones. Bitter-sweet ones.
Alienating love from sex, sex from love...sense and sensibility from both.
Stuffing your face with food won't help. What would?
Yoga would not. A night out is temporary relief.
We're all on the edge, we may pop, we may drop.
Spill over and that's the end.
So the question still remains...how to stay happy, not drink and kill yourself.
03 March 2012
In the mood for love...
And I would watch In the Mood for Love over and over again, because of Chris Doyle.
17 February 2012
Happy Birthday
They had known each other for over six years. The first two was friendship. The next one was obsessive love and sex. The fourth was a disaster. The fifth and sixth...were different for both.
So it was her twenty sixth birthday. She was drinking cocktails and eating hash brownies. At the stroke of midnight she kissed a stranger, vowed her love for him and forgot when she kissed her girl friend.
So right after the party noises faded out. She signed in to facebook. Her page was flooded with birthday wishes. Boring. They are said the same thing.
And then somewhere hidden between the zillion other "Happy Birthdays" was one that read - "Happy Birthday Bitch. Hope you receive a much needed pounding tonight." She stared at it for a while. She thought it was the daze. But then her girl friend read it out aloud. She shut up immediate.
What did she do then? Well. She moved her fingers delicately over the awesome keys of her macbook. She typed - Thank you.
So it was her twenty sixth birthday. She was drinking cocktails and eating hash brownies. At the stroke of midnight she kissed a stranger, vowed her love for him and forgot when she kissed her girl friend.
So right after the party noises faded out. She signed in to facebook. Her page was flooded with birthday wishes. Boring. They are said the same thing.
And then somewhere hidden between the zillion other "Happy Birthdays" was one that read - "Happy Birthday Bitch. Hope you receive a much needed pounding tonight." She stared at it for a while. She thought it was the daze. But then her girl friend read it out aloud. She shut up immediate.
What did she do then? Well. She moved her fingers delicately over the awesome keys of her macbook. She typed - Thank you.
12 February 2012
Worthless pondering
As I drank my morning coffee, pretty much around noon, I remembered last night's dream. It was horrible, it was torture. Even just to think about what I saw. Last night in my dream I saw I had cancer.
I wonder where that came from? I wonder if I am falling into some sort of self loathing hell? Where no amount of laundry can clean the disease that is proliferating inside you.
God know why this happened but I remember loosing strands of my hair. I saw my father shocked, scared, saying that it's because of my smoking. But what's the point, I had smoked all I could and nothing could be done now. I had cancer.
And i guess it's true when they say that you'd never understand unless you got it. What do I say, a dream is as real as it gets.
So where are we right now? Is this the dream or is the dream the real world? What is our real state of existence?
Working on my Schizophrenia project, I wondered, if we were all Schizophrenics. If what we call normal is abnormal and "their" world more real than we potentially believe it to be.
Are we living a myth. The myth of life, created by God knows who? So if that is the case then why worry, why be so tensed when it's all going to be over and maybe then you and I will finally be in the real world.
The real world that is better or worse. For joys or for disappointment. Why are we killing ourselves every minute when we all know that one day we shall die.
What can we do to live? How to live? No one taught us this. No one knows about this. Why is death so scary when we don't even know what it is to live.
I don't know. I wonder. I wonder if this is going anywhere? Yet I want to see things through. Why? Why not just be satisfied with these incomplete fragments. It's like a puzzle that no one can assemble. So why try?
Will there ever be any answers. Will there ever be a point when we will have what we want? Who can tell? Who knows? I guess no one.
I wonder where that came from? I wonder if I am falling into some sort of self loathing hell? Where no amount of laundry can clean the disease that is proliferating inside you.
God know why this happened but I remember loosing strands of my hair. I saw my father shocked, scared, saying that it's because of my smoking. But what's the point, I had smoked all I could and nothing could be done now. I had cancer.
And i guess it's true when they say that you'd never understand unless you got it. What do I say, a dream is as real as it gets.
So where are we right now? Is this the dream or is the dream the real world? What is our real state of existence?
Working on my Schizophrenia project, I wondered, if we were all Schizophrenics. If what we call normal is abnormal and "their" world more real than we potentially believe it to be.
Are we living a myth. The myth of life, created by God knows who? So if that is the case then why worry, why be so tensed when it's all going to be over and maybe then you and I will finally be in the real world.
The real world that is better or worse. For joys or for disappointment. Why are we killing ourselves every minute when we all know that one day we shall die.
What can we do to live? How to live? No one taught us this. No one knows about this. Why is death so scary when we don't even know what it is to live.
I don't know. I wonder. I wonder if this is going anywhere? Yet I want to see things through. Why? Why not just be satisfied with these incomplete fragments. It's like a puzzle that no one can assemble. So why try?
Will there ever be any answers. Will there ever be a point when we will have what we want? Who can tell? Who knows? I guess no one.
14 January 2012
2012
The New Year, usually tarnished by cliches of resolutions and countdowns probably deserves a little more respect than that. For me, as a stuck up person who hates change, the new year is always a pain because I see a new number in the date column. Only very few understand how hard it is to watch 2011 metamorphose into 2012 and never come back again.
Though strangely ever since 2012 happened, I've been noticing some new things around me. For starters I never noticed the Hoboken Clock Tower in the 4 months that I've been in New York. Today I became aware of it's presence and loved it. There are good things about the United States and I know gradually I will come to admit it. The clock tower is a good start and now I can't wait to discover more of New York, more of USA.
Dear USA you are not an "other" in my romance with India. You are definitely "another", to love, cherish and appreciate. You are my two countries together.
Though strangely ever since 2012 happened, I've been noticing some new things around me. For starters I never noticed the Hoboken Clock Tower in the 4 months that I've been in New York. Today I became aware of it's presence and loved it. There are good things about the United States and I know gradually I will come to admit it. The clock tower is a good start and now I can't wait to discover more of New York, more of USA.
Dear USA you are not an "other" in my romance with India. You are definitely "another", to love, cherish and appreciate. You are my two countries together.
17 December 2011
The rose colored shades
We both had a pair. Large retro frames, our rose colored shades. It was a love affair, all of seven ages and four months. She had glorious long hair, billowing down to her waist . The first few stages are hazy in my mind. All I remember is that we were born together once. It was the age of innocence.
After that I remember only memories of us lying on our bed. Her eyes always tilted towards the sky, whispering poems. Sometimes she sang famous verses and sometimes a made up ramble of jumbled feelings.
She had questions I had no answers to. But still she never hesitated to ask. She asked me if she could be a mother but not a wife. She asked me if she could be a wife and a child. She asked me if she could be nobody. She asked me if she could be my wife. And in all this, did I mention I was mute but she heard me louder than I ever heard her speak. She asked me if I was her's. She asked me if she could be my wife.
My lips moved in a melancholic dance but not a word did they utter. Not a sigh of soothing relief, not a whimper, not a scream. And like this when we had passed many ages just lying on our bed, one day she made up her mind. I knew not what moment, had I noticed I would have done something. But with really brave hands, and an ominous sleigh of hand, she took off her rose shades. Before I knew she looked around and then turned her gaze. For the first time I saw them. Her eyes were large and set in a deep shade of pain. And when she looked into mine, her gaze couldn't penetrate my rose coloured haze. And so before I knew she merged into thin air. Vanish - like a childish magic game. She was gone.
And then I realized lying half dead. What was gone was a part of me. Her voice echoed in my dreams. I was haunted and there was no escape. So in a second I decided to do the same. But my sleigh of hand didn't know the routine and instead into my heart a dagger it did press. The red circle over my heart grew bigger and bigger until finally there was a whimper. I froze with my eyes strained towards the sky and saw her smiling at me through my rose colored shades.
After that I remember only memories of us lying on our bed. Her eyes always tilted towards the sky, whispering poems. Sometimes she sang famous verses and sometimes a made up ramble of jumbled feelings.
She had questions I had no answers to. But still she never hesitated to ask. She asked me if she could be a mother but not a wife. She asked me if she could be a wife and a child. She asked me if she could be nobody. She asked me if she could be my wife. And in all this, did I mention I was mute but she heard me louder than I ever heard her speak. She asked me if I was her's. She asked me if she could be my wife.
My lips moved in a melancholic dance but not a word did they utter. Not a sigh of soothing relief, not a whimper, not a scream. And like this when we had passed many ages just lying on our bed, one day she made up her mind. I knew not what moment, had I noticed I would have done something. But with really brave hands, and an ominous sleigh of hand, she took off her rose shades. Before I knew she looked around and then turned her gaze. For the first time I saw them. Her eyes were large and set in a deep shade of pain. And when she looked into mine, her gaze couldn't penetrate my rose coloured haze. And so before I knew she merged into thin air. Vanish - like a childish magic game. She was gone.
And then I realized lying half dead. What was gone was a part of me. Her voice echoed in my dreams. I was haunted and there was no escape. So in a second I decided to do the same. But my sleigh of hand didn't know the routine and instead into my heart a dagger it did press. The red circle over my heart grew bigger and bigger until finally there was a whimper. I froze with my eyes strained towards the sky and saw her smiling at me through my rose colored shades.
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