the rapist rules

I am angry, ‘am frustrated, am disturbed… am so upset, I can hardly sit still, which I have to and the mind trembles with more rage. All this negative energy is fuelling the incineration of the spirit. Seems all that gun powder and blasts set of a chain reaction…

What the fuck has world come to? And, for once am not going to be sorry for the language here. Where the hell are the people, who claimed to be sanitizing Mumbai? Why aren’t the commandoes being sent away since not all of them would not be Maharashtrians? Or are those people waiting for the complete annihilation of the city so that they can build it up? Is that the argument for their silence or hiding ghettos, that they are “Nirmataas” (builders)? And, how dare one CM or another fly down and talk about money? And criticize the government? Someone if inside your home killing your family and you are blaming your cousin for not fastening the doors well? In times like this? Is it still We vs Them? Is there no end to the manipulations and opportunism?

And, no my anger is not just them, and no my anger is not even on those handful of people holding the heart of the nation to ransom. Nah, not even them! For, they are just cogs of the big wheel, the mere pawns… very very dispensable variety.

And, for once let’s not even get into arguments of religion and region. As long as there is a corrupt system, there is someone willing to take the “Fidayeen” flag and die in the name.
From 1948 to 1975 to 1991 to 1993 to 2008 – 60 years and am sure more than 6 millions killed in the name of some brand of hate.

What the FUCK?? And, we are not even looking at where we should look. We are conveniently being short sighted. Looking at the picture in front and suitably forgetting the ones behind the camera. The politics, the poisonous dirty version of it… is going to be the end of this country and the planet!

Why can’t we just let others live and be? Why do we need the on-up-man-ship? WHY? Politics is an essential of a human society. Good! The mental prowess it requires is appreciative and people who are the masters of ‘Chankaya-Neeti’ – very commendable!

But, how do you live with your conscience, when you have used the insecurities of 20 something, turned them against their own people, themselves and then a quick about turn and make a show of condemning the same actions, you either paid for or perpetuated!

This isn’t politics; this is putting Hitlers of the worlds to shame.

The ATS Chiefs, the ACPs, the kids – on both sides of the guns, the foreign nationals, the army men, the bystanders, and the media … the common man in general. What wrong did these people do? What wrong the Valley did? From Kashmir to Mumbai to Gujarat and Delhi to New York to Afghanistan; why is the world burning, the way it is? The kids are not safe in their own homes, men and women un-safe at their own work places, with the people they call friends. No safety, no peace, no evolution! Period.

So, if that’s they way it is why isn’t there an Armageddon? If God has a plan, he should sanitize the entire planet in a shot. Another experiment gone wrong, man! Time for new one! In any case, this is a blink of n eye for YOU!

But this suffering, this cannibalism … is really un-called for, completely un-warranted!

And, what am I doing? Writing few lines on my blog? Does that make even a delta of a difference? Extending a hand to those whom I could reach is one way. Paying my taxes, voting and being a good citizen is one way. Think, its time to pick that Automatic Klashanikov myself…

Ha, there I go! To beat them, be like them! But who the heck is THEM here? I need George Orwell for the clarity. I don’t know, if I am making sense even to myself… at this time… all is smoke… and I am choking, forget perspectives.


edit: will asking people to resign, passing the buck... even sacking governments, help and ensure that we can eat our foods at our fav restaurant, safely? and we would not be raped for checking into hotels on our business trips... thrice before being shot? and why am i being naive, even bringing these up?

warped moonlight - "smells like teen spirit"

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." - Oscar Wilde

on the banks of an inky pool, an edge to the senses - goosebumps of skin, fire in the eyes, icy hands, naked soul.....and the world wishing new year's but a distant din... all i could now see his eyes burning holes in me, somewhere... and then a splash... slow strokes.... held breath ... a complete submerge... my first moonlight kiss

and am getting married to the guy!


am a movieholic

"Dostana" released this friday and was a very pleasant surprise ... its an entertainer, a feel good and a much needed belly laugh stress buster! :) Abhishek has acted well in a longgg time.

"Ghajini" - a mispronounced "Ghazni" - remember Mahumd Ghazni?(The great warrior ruler of 10th Century) .. and by the promos... the movie seems to have been shot in deserts... looks promising!

"Rab Ne Bana di Jodi" - now this is another one that could either be another entertainer like a typical "Yash Raj Films" or not... but Touche'... and kudos, to King Khan on swinging the other way with the experiments of looks.

"Yuvvraj" - i hope this works and only for Salman! Somehow, that man looks very close to the actual thing he would be.

Update: Add Dasvidaniya... to the list! Vinay Pathak, without doubt is loads of talent! :) Thank You Manuscrypts.. i did miss this one!

P.S: i didn't add any of the friday releases from the other side of the planet... that's 'cos the list goes on... and this was meant to be one of those whims "let me try movie review" post! :p


death magnetic

Calling me… is the emptiness

Enticing is this mist

The blinding white of

Cold, lonely mountains

Deep dark wooded slopes

Of these valleys

Lure me again…

There is something ancient here

Stirring the haunting strains

… Inside me

Lying on lushness, of this tableland

I am but a tiny speck

Vermillion shadows of the sky – suddenly salt sprinkled

And the owls begin to call out

The night zephyr … is now a song, now a tremble

Universe witnesses:

A forlorn figure … a weeping tremble running down its form

Helplessness written all over the air

The full moon disc ascends … now cheesy yellow

Slowly chalk white… “the science of curdling doesn’t work here”

The vales are now illuminated…

Shadows abound

The choir is in full form

The orchestra of the night in full swing

Universe Witnesses:

The forlorn figure … now at the edge

With a crimson silk running the length of her arms

Now stretched like wings

The long dark hair … now a part of the choir

She looks like Her Majesty

Master of all she surveys

… the tiny speck and so much power

Surrendering when you are high

Being at the edge of pleasure and pain

And the gravity doesn’t work anymore

For universe seems to have won just this time…

This IS free falling…


O mama!!

...apologies for the tardiness here, folks... much has been happening at neersville these past few weeks... and would i update? i dunno... :) but for now... this is how i am:

and wanna guess why?? generally am quite apolitically inclined in my existence... but sometimes when i do care... i care very strongly.... and this for the 44th POTUS!! Yep, the handsome Mr. Barack Obama! How does it matter to me? Well, i could expend energies on expanding on the nuances of this historic conspiracy of universe for this moment/movement... however, for now... i will let it pass! am dazed! Congratulation, Mr. President!

pic courtsey:


the devil's angel

A feather touch


Take me away

---- Prison break ----

Whispered air

Fear and fun … a shudder

Curled lips

Fixed stare … leaden lashes


Leaping fire … distended breathing

Sliding ice … whacked blood run

Out of bounds - Desire ----------------------------- Cloaked around your shadow


conspiracy of universe

put the shreds together
a creative patch work

hid the stains
a lovely tie-n-dye

no hearts as sleeves
no chips for shoulders

.... parallel universe ....

unguarded heart
me a softhead

i know you are messed up
i feel at home

........third dimension.........

moon lullaby - in your arms
sunrise - under your curled lashes
thrumming under my palm

we held hands ... all but once
the shudders run still

your steady breath... those 30 seconds
and purple thunder in my heart
hunger and quiet rising suffused

me - a darkness magnet
... supreme sensual sentient

haven't seen the dreamland, ever since
... the eyes closed, at last
enter the gates... at last.

pics courtesy:


The floor tiles are cold. I can hear an owl, the twitter of birds and i can hear the evening sun ... whispering. I try to let myself sink down into the moment, noticing. Noticing layer upon layer of sound, of smell, of light, of hue.

half a promise
more than the half... sometimes

this festivity has a grip
grip on the un-shed tears

too many staring matches lost to the mirror ...
lost everything to the evanescence

Sky has been dull grey color of cement, thunder storms, evening clouds ripped to shreds and stained vermilion with the setting sun and scattered with the jagged V’s of geese.

I’m not sure why I feel compelled to write about the messy sharp-edged rawness. Some days when we can’t help it. Our words intersect but never meet. Our conversations sound like a scene from "the Tracy Fragments", each scene unfinished, bifurcated like the V’s of geese cutting through the air; my intentions going one way, his another. It’s not about anything, or it could just as well be. I’m disappointed. When because of his moods he turns stormy and turbulent, everything I’m saying an easy target for something. Sometimes (many times) I’m wrong. It’s hard for me to say so. Harder to apologize, to reword, to back down. But generally I do. Still, there are times when I’m not. When I’m genuinely blindsided with the intensity of his reaction, when he’s out of line. The injustice of misunderstanding feels so huge, so insurmountable, especially within the small parameters of my own take on things.

It’s so damn hard to give every ounce of what you have when you’re feeling like beaten and covered with gravel, each shard touching all the exposed wounds.
The thing is, sometimes being grown up just sucks, and it still hits us hard. When theres an ache for things, anything and our days are crowded and off kilter, it’s easy to turn each other into a target. Humans always seem to want a scapegoat. Someone else to blame for their own feeble attempts and failures in the scope of a jam-packed day where it’s impossible to measure up. And sometimes this lashing out is as unavoidable as the frost that will come to kill the sunflowers.

So I write about the days when things are tense and the friction is not just a physics theory.

Eventually truce! And really, there’s nothing either of us can do about these times, except agree to stop, to give in, to say I’m sorry. To take a breath, or several.
Because sometimes it’s neither of our faults, really. It’s just life, handed to us full and brimming. Without a glossy manual. You cannot just always stand up and say "I quit"

Maybe by circling back to these moments I create a different illusion—that relationships are hard, fraught with conflict, which is hardly the case, if you look in totality. There always is sweetness, so many moments jam-packed with goodness. So many hours, days, weeks even, when things are smooth and effortless. And, this is true for each of the relationships... some are a bit easier than others. A blessing! Some have their own share of "adventure"... another sort of blessing! If its the beach we covet, we cannot choose between the sand grains, sunburn or the clear blue-green water and its frolicking tides. Its a package deal. ALWAYS!

And, so I attempt to record the other times too, because they are hard. Because growth never comes from the moments of easy pleasure. Growth comes when the ache is greatest, when wanderlust and terror swell equally in my chest and I choose instead to stay. To accept the sorry come easily and not make it tough for the other one. And to let go of the hurt; and not carry the trash can of negatives around. Am fragile, i cant carry much... and since am a darkness magnet - its easier to carry the muck around. But what is being human, if not to make the effort of working out the seemingly unworkable!

An evolution!

And, in the middle of the night when you hear him breathing next to you, his jaw slack. Vulerable and tender. There are No words left.

i got an award!!

and Eclipsed asked me to do a few things... i know... am being lazy, so while i de-frost.. you people have fun!


“Your post-its are killing me”; he says and all I can manage is … a chuckle over cyberspace.Ouch! That hurt!

Most of the time its fragments, I exist in. Fragments of facts, mosaic of memories, pieces of happiness, dots of grief, burst of anger and handful of laughter. Mix it well! There… you have the recipe of how I live. Even with words… short phrases…disjointed analogies… dissected thoughts barely fitting into pull-over of grammar. Maybe that’s why … I can never see myself writing one whole book… I have some zillion stories, theories, screenplays, poems, ideas… inside me. Like every body else … I am a barely put-together puzzle of carbon base. And, unlike some of us… and salute to all those who can, so glowingly seduce the language to make such exquisite and sizzling stories; I am limited by my run-on sentences. Am limited by my own parentheses and maybe all I need to do is remove them to make the equation simpler? Or does it complicate matters…

Sometimes I can’t say things all the way, the way they are. Instead, the feeling is simply there, welling up. Like smoke in the air, or the boiling kettle.

And, right now, and I wish I could be more voluble about it…I am missing him. The presence, the mischief …


chamkta chamku

i do realize that i could be ostracized for saying this, but : Chamku is a Good Movie! Not Godfather good! But a very very decent and honest effort of real cinema, Prakash Jha genre! Maybe it's luck that it released along with Rock On, and at the cost of repetition.. Rock On, didnt rock as much and though Chamku doesnt Rock, maybe because it was Folk Music without much Metal Arrangements... but is that condition enough to Trash it??

Ha!! It's a fad to say that Bobby Deol doesnt act... and Nopes, i am not a big fan. But, this one definitely is a feather in his not-so-plummeted cap! And Kudos to the director... Kabeer Kaushik!

I liked it and give it a 4 Star! And, people before you give me shit for case you plan to... remember the Shawshank Redemption and its innings on Box Office!

thank you! i rest my case!

Update: And, no Chamku is NOT the Shawshank Redemption!!! :)


kiss & tell

The city and me have a relationship, its called “maintaining-a-respectable-distance”! We do not like each other, that could be an understatement when I am in one of my foulest moods and calling it all the names, an ex-finishing-school alumnus is allowed to, and it seems, even when we are conducting ourselves as mature adults… there’s this strong undercurrents … I have no option but to stay on and the city really isn’t too vocal about having me thrown out! So, here I am … led in the spot by a well-orchestered plans and yes, the plans were all mine… it IS true, a Woman indeed IS the choreographer of her own dances. What and where you choose to dance can definitely be driven by circumstances… so, there you go… we also come with some shackles. Ah, the irony of being human! (Oh, by the by this sentence reminds me of Tom Holt… brilliant, I say… if you like that sort of stuff)

I like so many of my kinds (and I haven’t yet figured out, what that is) have this strong thing for vibes and stuff.

There’s no love lost between me and the city I grew up in … its like an attempted affair, something which you would try as fitting into the group in your teenage! No passion, almost lukewarm… but has its moments… and unforgettable ones at that. And, while taking those walks down the “Champs Élysées” of memory … you would like to wave a smile at them.

And, of all the cities of the world (the parts which I have had good fortune to be acquainted with) … I like Singapore the best … a big burly & goofy brother … you feel safe, you can fool around to your heart’s content, … you can shop, hog on cuisines, stay up late, go for the dances, do things … and in general just have unlimited fun … as long as you are good with your “school work” and be a good girl… for goofy he might be… but is quite strict with code of conduct!

Bali is like one night royal affair!

New Jersey is a distant rich uncle!

Los Angeles? Ah, well

Rangoon is a loving old aunt … full of stories and home-made delicacies.

Mumbai is a FRIEND, totally! School friend – now cool, now vile… but does not hurt on purpose. New York is a rich friend, who unwittingly can end up patronizing with all that jazz.

London undoubtedly is a snob ageing aunt … who tries her best to pretend being cool!

South Beach, Miami is a short-lived relaxed fling you had, while on vacation… unforgettable!

Denver City is your boss … albeit a good one! Amsterdam HAS to be the handsome stranger, who outrageously flirted you with all the charm of a red-blooded Mills&Boons Hero… and yep, you did flirt back (in case you were wondering!)

But, the love of life is the city where I did all my “growing” up … Spent last decade, transformed from a unsure-small town teenager to whatever I am today … owe that to the support – unquestioning, admonishing at stupid mistakes, picks me up, dusts off and hands a cup of coffee … also, turns to for advices!! Lets you make mistakes and accepts as you are!

This ones a Home! And, am terribly home-sick right now!

closest online representation of me!!! surprised to find this!!
... well almost, replace the brit face with a mix of japanese-indian face

photo courtesy: glamour uk

bohemia is my salvation - but a luxury i cant afford


a very happy birthday, love!


winter on this latitude

Thirst all it is … to it
Frozen on the altar …
Paralyzed beyond stir

This one here,
Perhaps, the last of your punches
Blocked the pain … with a band-aid of hope

Extinction of self …
Ashes lost in white spaces

It’s so painful pretending to be asleep now
The drops that fall are tears

Cowered in the corner…
Waiting for the dawn
To wear the smile again

Because it’s me who’s scared of the blue
Because it’s me who’s afraid of the dark…


twitter type

the sky has been playing out its drama again. It is thundering in little bursts. And, the colors mutate from soft romance to glamorous and its overcast, and then of course, it rains. It has been raining every other day since july.

thank you, all for your wishes... there are some zillion things i have been meaning to do and write and not keeping my promise to myself, for now just
some sprinkle on the soul and tomorrow definitely is another day .... my parents coming over! Yay!!

even if they do not understand you, even if there is this huge and cliched generation gap, the umbilical vibes make a huge difference ... mom's nagging and dad's philosophizing does get to you.... but then what was once a fuel for teenage angst... becomes "wow-good-ol-days" feel... esp, when you are in the web of immensely complex and complicated dynamics!

so, yay... mom will cook and dad will talk and both will say that its high time i should get married and that i am loosing weight like no-one's business and nope, telling them that one day ... i might walk the ramp for giorgio armani will not convince them! :)


the day before yesterday

Woke up to a thorny sore throat, clogged sinuses and a headache: the kind that makes everything pale blue. I made ginger and honey tea and still felt fogged.

Today it rained. All day; the kind of steady rain that makes you now restless and now curled up in quilts with a book. Only nothing makes sense.

It was the kind of rain that made me loose all resolve to do anything worthwhile. The sky smudged gray, the ground already full to saturation, stream beds overflowing everywhere. It was a day of incessant wheezing, cold naps and feeling sorry for myself.

I am trying, trying so hard to will myself off the bed and do something useful, around the house or even sketch something, but so far all I can do is sit here feeling like a collection of gooey jelly balls in a paper sack.


"i died alone ... a long long time ago"

sunshine of you, dissipates in me
dissipates in my brume

drain some daylight from this blaze colander
miles of me, covered in your silhouette
carved in my palm … like fate

turn around, maybe a half-step
throw me, maybe a glance

the more I fly away, the less skies I map
am the faerie … you waited for
am the flute … whose fire you stroked

“the fairy would one day alight from the skies…”;
you sang
“i feel her noiseless steps …, I see her, shy and soft … blushing pink and flustered”;
you crooned

am the footsteps … which fluttered your heartbeats
am the one … you longed for
am the one … you stopped looking for

banished from stars
fallen from the clouds;
on cold winds and desert sands
my breaths move on…

let me now be a song … un-composed
while I slowly squander in your heart
let me now be …
eternally existent in this mortality for non-existence of your longing…


atomic NirvaNa

Something is happening, a palpable sense of anticipation has slowly crept and hugged me… it seems, these days, I am on a continuous wait… a voice somewhere between dream and miracle keeps chiming in! All that you see is and all that you do and all that is there…is transient.

How I wish … I had some insulation against my self, some grounding for the electricity of the being is lest it gets to lethal degrees. I need some help with this coil … and nope, a genius of Nikola (may his soul rest in peace) too wouldn’t have done the magic.

From the sleep deprived colliding hours of days … I manage to steal some time off that clock tower … one Saturday afternoon. Two completely un-interrupted hours of road-side opera of family weekend cars and a background score of Mario Frangoulis’s “dreamlike” tenor; with arc lights of sun spilling from cerulean blue sky of Maidenhead. Crisp, green and laced with the "warmth" of cool breeze - typical of North Pole proximity; a July in Britain seems like what the doctor ordered. On the sidewalk bench of harvest hill road … I found my nirvana!

Some days like these, all I see is the sun. Everything bright and smiling; words perfectly in tune. Other days, my heart tunes into different frequencies; I just can’t seem keep the rain check on the gypsy inside. I do not get my sentences right, do not get the lines symmetrical.

I wake up, throw myself into work … and its twilight; the clock runs me out again! And then in some other dimensions … all I have for company is copious amount of minute hands.

See? Transient! The consistent inconsistency! The rogue and the gentry live together.

Aside: Hey people, all of you, who are here … (and I have never done this before, wonder why?) a big thank you! Times when I win the staring matches with my laptop screen and the times when its wild and frenzied keyboard sport… all those times and much more of colliding electrons … I dedicate to you, today!


subterranean foliage N' longwinding verbiage

I remember when I began stringing words and declared myself as a writer of sorts in my mind, as a high school student … my motivations of, gingerly arranging all the stationery and pulling an old chair in a solitary corner of the house, was nothing less than ceremonious; and entirely different than what they are now. As a new entrant to the world of literature and the art of story telling … more often than not I caught myself day dreaming revolutionizing the world with the word-power – the power which would be created all by me, a power which would be self satiating and not make one hungry, a power of pride, which comes from the knowledge and the passion of being able to make a difference.

The idyllic small Indian town were I grew up and went to school has always seen that clear divide between two thought processes – one which passionately and realistically believes that there are higher things than just subsisting and another set which is really good at the game of just subsisting.

One group which knows, that there is an endless sky of things to be known and to be learnt. These are erudite. These are the people who can talk about Dragone’s La Reve, Ramanujam’s Theorems and quote Oscar Wilde with the same panache of any upper class Londoner for example, while skirting the potholes of the narrow by lanes of downtown on a rickety cycle rickshaw.

And another group which haggles with the same rickshaw guy for 2 bucks, not because they are mean and miserly or poor, but they can buy a kilo of vegetable with those 2 bucks and save. This is the same set of people who talk about the next wedding or child birth or neighbors issue and the axis of their universe is riddled with electricity, water and the children’s weddings

But make no mistake, these two exist together! Sometimes one gives birth to another, sometimes they are siblings; sometimes they share the same bus seat and jump over same potholes. Umm, actually make that always and not just sometimes.

A no win game. A game where people do not play against other team, but the fight is big and is within or among them.

A game, where when you become the observer, is a gold mine of experiences, ideas, pain and catharsis… there after. A stage, where the play continues long after the curtain down and audience are happily tucked in bed.

A mode of survival, where everyone does get to survive but few, live.

From approaching writing with reverence to using it as a means to end; an end which is a constant hunt – a hunt which is – unyielding; much ice has melted at the Arctics.

A long way before, I am competent enough to be able to see my love and loss, my words and ideas … turn crinkly yellow with age! Much long way …

And, oft late … a realization of sorts … a spiraling inside … a fleet of thoughts ganging up … to wake me up and scream inside … that the in-satiation which I have been quarreling against, the loneliness which is slowly eating its way to the core; in-spite everything and everyone; will perhaps can never be quieted by all the hi-flyin success of those deals I close or home that I keep doing up (though, it has a certain degree of satisfaction) etc etc. I am convinced beyond doubt that i would have to brave the hopeless claustrophobia and dive in…

Working on it… no iPhone 2.0 with GPS this time around; for satellites cant really map where you are on the terrain of subconscious.



It's time to talk about what i felt then ...


The night before, I was tossing between my sheets... licking my flaky dry lips ... dry with fear... freaking out!

What should i do? What if someone finds out? What if, i dont have it in me ... to finish this? More so, since i didnt wish to.... i wanted it go on... but i couldn't! And, that was THAT! Just couldn't.

Could I do this? Would I?

Finally with the hint of sunlight, i got up. Stepped into the jets of ice cold shower, i never take cold showers ... except at times like this... but wait, this has never happened before! It did not feel real! Only that, nothing was as real as this ... in my entire life.

Pulled off my matter-of-fact look. Blue Jeans and white tee. Called my friend, who had in the first place directed me to this place... she said she couldn't come with me... she had some real imp stuff to take care of ... and i couldn't begrudge her that... all through this she was the only one there, surprising; since she wasn't really my "bestest buddy" and yet, unjudging, calm, practical... she just smoothly showed me the way. In a span of couple of weeks, my whole life seemed to be have been taken away to pieces and put onto a different plane.

I hadn't really talked about this to anyone. Very calmly, i had called him up and told him about it. Calm! There was no other way. And, he was miles away ... couldn't be there with me! and, i knew it... i mean, i knew that even if he wanted to ... it wasn't feasible... i knew all that and i still blamed him... there was no one on this freaking "billioned" populated planet ... who could say "its okay and it would be fine!" just NO oNE!!

i did think of few 'friends' i could call up... i mean i forced myself to scroll through my contact list ... but then scrolling like that has never worked, right? it has to come naturally... and naturally this friend was the only one, who i speed-dialed, told her about "the mess" (though, it freaks me to call it that... it wasn't... i wanted it as much i want life and yet...) and what i had decided to do about it ...

she listened. called me over, treated me to scumptious lunch and a tall expresso glass and calmly, categorically told me .... that what i was about to do was stupid and how dangerous it could be and the right way to deal with it was the other way... a safer, surer bet...

i agreed! i didn't want to but i did... i knew, i had no option and this was THE WAY to go... just knew it.

so, here i was ... a 20 something ... on my way to a place i had only read about... had heard of ... i knew it was a controversy still ... and i felt every one on the street knew about it

its exactly seven months today and i still can't coherently talk about the next 3 hours .... i only remeber being over whelmingly thirsty!!! and no water around, no one to get it for me!

my friend called, he called and then i had to call my sister... i had lost more than my slip ons... ... during those hours somewhere ... and i wanted to go home... i was tired! extremely tired in spirit ...

and there isn't a day, i am not reminded of it ... something changed irrevocably ... broke. am not an emotional mess, i am better than that! but then, i possibly am not even aware of, even if i am!

it made that big cut, which decided my turns on the road... am on.

i still talk to myself. there have been other n number of times, when struck with the lows of life ... i have hugged myself and cried and said it would be okay... but this one time and about this one time ... nopes, no talkin... not a word, except this fistful of words thrown into the winds of web.

the Comfort Zone was crossed and the doors are now shut for ever. I can never relax and i know i have always had that aquarius spaced out now here - now not thing ... but take this and multiply it by some huge figure and what you have is what i am now...

and, no you cant really see the difference!

...Copyright© nEErs

caught in 200 kmph and faerie lights

after a longgg time .... and you could a put a huge longgg there ... i picked my camera today, battery loaded them... and presto, there i was ... slowly getting back in harmony with self...

oh, by the way, bunked work (umm, correction "worked from home") .... read a lil' (yay!), had mangoes with home made cream (double yay!!) and took pictures (how cool is that?) ... a few outdoors, since the squall still doesn't seem to be merciful ... rainstorms being the order of the day; so mostly it was in doors ... in and around the apartment...

aside: he says this place used to be furnace with rains being step-sisterly ... but this year... and he says thats because i am here ... this time! was that a compliment?? :) i wonder, with squalls getting violent enough to be Katrina clones!


screaming storm - quiet moon

inkiness quietly wraps the house ... the sky has been dull grey all day... and it makes me sad. for no reason, maybe there is one ... i have been irritable and moody whole weekend ... and i find myself, for umpteenth time, longing for laughter filled house, the bustle of
unmanageable toddlers, longing for green, for grass ... for something which can quench this in satiated thirst...

the weekend jived out of the calendar ... with me not being able to keep the step, neither trying ... am feeling completely out of sync, unsettled .

sometimes the sheer volume of loneliness is enough to drive me up a wall. everything feels dull and out of sync. sadness dyes the space around me like beetroot juice.

and now I’m curled up on my lime green chaise lounge, the lime yellow curtains fluttering (my own attempts at putting a wall for angry heat) ... a mix of melodies spewing forth on iTunes, and me trying to string words to sync the fragmented being.


livin by the word

This morning, I work up to screaming, taunting squall ... pumping adrenaline at 104Kmph... it seemed out to avenge ... what? And, the shower of firmly congregating rain clouds did nothing to assuage the anger ... in fact, turns out they have love-hate thing ... and all was mayhem, RainStorm. The reverie of drunken happiness ... went on for a couple of hours. The night sky burnished with lightening and raging thunder should have been a warning enough.

After a too-busy fortnight of work, work and some more work ... managed to horde few minutes to write. The words dribbling, even as my wet hair sprinkled my keyboard.

Am moody about the fact that haven't been able to either read or write to my heart's content... in a while. After the rains the sky looked like a mosaic of torn clouds. After the wild thrashing of wind and rain... the tranquility looked ironical.

I like to have a book on me always ... my night read, my everywhere read ... my lazing around read. The habit of parallel readings; stemmed from the greed of words; of stories; of ideas ... long time back.

Words have always been my best friend ... the language teasing my intellect, pulling me in like a vortex, making me feel alive ... with all the ideas bunkering in my thought.

The smooth flow of narrative and then a sudden sharpness of genius of language. I tend to get dyed in the colors of the characters. The science of language like music takes a form of art. Urging on to live!


... filled fridaY

It is somehow already Friday. I am like sand on the banks, wet here, sweltering dry there and scattered... the days just keep spilling into each other, with the line between setting and rising... thinning haphazardly. These are moment i want to remember.... when the life becomes one "long un-ending day"


flawless - far from it - yet the brilliance, "whoa"

do i count him in one of the best things that happened? guess not, not yet... but looks like am reaching there... to a point, where... from the misty dust gathering on the stone; you begin to see through... slowly, painstakingly! its your life and you fashioned it!

am so damned grateful, that winter is over... so, what the sun burns through epidermis... so what, the promises of SPFs fall flat and no, i don't want to sue the cosmetic giants! at least they give me the fragrance!

hey wookie, thank you for some of the worst and the best days and nights of my life! thank you for adding to the cut, the color, the clarity and the carat... far from 58 but will get there.... ! :)

redefinition of self... sending out thought waves... from the annals of dark matter...where the chaos is the order

...Copyright© nEErs

sedated by spring

ghosted relationships
lonely crowd

strangers under the same roof
incomplete crowd

love - spaces between loneliness

this damned heart...
lives my space
drums your beats

in disguise
everyone seems like you

heaven sent
hell forsaken

drowning my fear
washing away the rain
sun's gone hiding
it's there!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

piscean peace

done in, by desire
grave of this heart...

quivering voice
brimming eyes
fixing such a frame
would be futile...

lulled by, zombie nights
in snooze, these freak breaths

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

plucking some leaves off the dead branch AND echo-ni-mix of fairy dust

Spring is round the corner… the signs of somber elegance, beginning to slowly wrap themselves around the trees… like the orchestral arrangement of “light my fire”… nature seems to be cherishing each note, each chord and step of the harmony.
The things that make us are the things that break us almost always … the aspirations, desires, wishes … passion. The twain shall never meet and the twain shall never be apart. Like a double helix DNA, sometimes the closest you get to things are the things that you are furthest from.
Think, the low hanging big beige chalk in the spring sky… does this to me. Here in this time and place… with iPod belting out some hardcore death metal… the room mates cracking up at ever word and sentence which takes on that form of double entendre… so characteristic of such gatherings… you never know who started with some off color joke… with a seemingly perfect innocent statement and then its like chain reaction… every action… every gossip takes that edge of hints. Ah, I do digress!
Like always and in like all things that catch my fancy, I have been trying to find deeper meanings in those meanings of pulse code modulation theory, amongst other things, the paper I need to finish off for some training coming up. The science and art of sound is a potent high. When you read about amplitude manipulation with frequency and phase modulation thrown in for a good measure… with all those 2D graphs, desperately trying to convey the effects which I otherwise call “morrisson”, “cranberries”, “linkin park”, “royksopp” to name a few…
I am my greatest lover and greatest critic… and right now, though I find myself completely awake to myself… to my desires and my hurts… the celebration of some of life’s spatial and temporal gifts along with the acknowledgments and acceptance of some hard facts… I also know that being a lil more stolid of some things and some more resolute at some of the other ones; is exactly what the doc ordered!
Happiness is out there just to be taken… all I need to do is look beyond… if only for “bas ek pal”
I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance, to live so that which came to me as seed goes on to the next as blossom, and so that which came to me as blossom goes on as fruit.
Dawna Markova

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

coming back to life

fickle dreams,
foggy longings..

the cold fog turns everything into a dull n whitish haze...
and the scent of summer looks like a distant dream. it' so easy to get blunt and blurry without that real fire, the purpose...

did i welcome the new year? or did it just stroll past me without taking any notice of me?? think thats what happened...

the scattered existence and a certain order forming out of this chaos... i have decided to be my most awakened self this year... no more sleep walking the existence.... no more heartaches that tend to spin off into gazillion other explosions... have a promise to myself... but then do know that "fate chooses man".... so however much you send those dreams into the Universe... some with a eyes-tight-shut desperate prayers, some on whispered breath.... by the time it does hit that cosmic turn of events and gets granted.... its a totally different take on the original...! but what do you know, you are only human!!

hope the new year eve and the morning was great! mine was totally revealing.... for a lack of better word maybe!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav