PURPLE SNOW AND FAIRY DUST

Please put away all recording devices (or Veninger will make a movie)

2011-09-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

Movie Review (TIFF 2011):‘i am a good person/ i am a bad person’

Directed by Ingrid Veninger

Runtime: 82 minutes

Ingrid Veninger’s latest debacle, “i am a good person/ i am a bad person” that premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) earlier this month, makes you wish that next time round she would go on holiday sans videocamera.

Filmed in Europe during an actual family trip, this indie film reeks of amateur home-video style editing, arbitrary handheld camera work and a plot line that is as thin as the line between love and hate.

The film follows Ruby White (Veninger), an insecure filmmaker, as she works the European film circuit with her latest movie, “Headshots”. Assisting her on the trip is her 18-year-old daughter, Sara (Hallie Switzer) who has just found out that she is pregnant.

Touching on the highly original theme of reversed roles between mother and child, the film portrays Sara as responsible, together and nightclub-phobic and her mother, by contrast, as impulsive, self-deprecating, and childlike.

After two awkward days together, mother and daughter split ways when Sara decides to fly to Paris. Cue the conveniently located cousin.

The rest of the film highlights the mirror-like behavior of mother and daughter - both of them confronting and vocalizing their deepest secrets.

Neither Ruby nor Sara are likable as protagonists, and their performance adds little or no value to the movie. Sara is impassive, cold and understated, reciting every line in the same dull drone that, if not interjected by Ruby’s ill-timed and heavily modulated delivery, would surely put the audience to sleep.

After her success with “Modra” that earned her the title of Indie queen at the TIFF in 2010, Veninger’s latest disappoints, resembling a Hallowe’en costume put together at the last minute by cutting two holes in a bed sheet.

The movie premiered at TIFF in September, 2011.
Watch the trailer for the film here.

High Fivers will be persecuted

2011-09-12T22:21:00.000-07:00

Movie Review (TIFF 2011): ‘God Bless America’

Written & Directed by Bobcat Goldthwait

In his latest offering to TIFF, Bobcat Goldthwait presented “God Bless America,” an unoriginal take on the unoriginality of American thought.

Protagonist Frank Murdoch (Joel Murray) is at a dead end. A failed marriage, spoilt daughter, run-of-the-mill job and a migraine-inducing brain tumor lead him to do what any man in his position would. Go around shooting people who annoy him.

The movie opens with Frank fantasizing about killing his hippie, Britney Spears-loving neighbors and their baby, who explodes like an overripe tomato, spilling bright red “blood” all over the living room set.

Enter life-threatening disease. Frank feels he has nothing to lose and decides to go on a cultural cleansing spree. He hunts down teenage princess Chloe, who appears on an episode of a ‘My Super Sweet Sixteen’-like reality show and shoots her for being a brat, making him an instant hero with high-five hating, nonconformist, rebel teenager, Roxy (Tara Lynn Barr), who joins him on the rest of his mission.

Together, they travel through America in a stolen yellow sports-car, courtesy above mentioned hippie neighbors, killing anyone who doesn’t fit into their idea of what a kind, considerate and well-informed American should be.

There are many things that work for this movie. Murray delivers an honest, controlled and believable performance (not counting his last heroic and over-the-top speech) and Barr strikes a balance between her doe-like eyes and complete un-doe-like behavior.

But all in all, Goldthwait’s mockumentary offers nothing but long, tedious rants and cheap thrills, providing no conclusive course of action or suggestion for making things better.

Unless, of course, he advocates pairing up into unlikely couples and taking a long, bloody road trip across the country.

Can I Be Me?

2011-08-31T22:00:00.000-07:00

There's much to be said about having good friends. You grow up together. They're always there for you. They share your deep, dark secrets. They buy you presents. They claim prime time telephone minutes and front row seats to major and minor life events. In fact, life is incomplete without them.

Yet, sometimes, it seems as if you are the only thing that makes their life complete.
What you do. What you say. Who you talk to. Who you kiss. What you pursue.
Decisions you make, clothes you wear, people you see.
Who you are.
Or rather, who you have 'become'.

They think you're the most brilliant person on the planet. "You're throwing your life away."
They think you make great decisions. "So why would you do something like that? Again?"
They think you are smart, funny and confident. "You're an emotional idiot."
They think you're level headed and sensible. "Can't you see what's staring you right in the face?"

Yes, there's much to be said about having good friends.
There's more to be said about having friends who really know your version of you.
Not the version of you they want you to be.

So maybe I'm not all that brilliant. Maybe I make mistakes like any of you would. And have. Maybe I get carried away and trust a little too easily.

But that's me.
And that's who I'll be.
So let me be me.

Trampoline

2011-03-17T09:49:00.001-07:00

So here's what happens when you're down two cups of strong coffee, have nothing with you but tissue paper, a pen, and four songs playing on repeat on your playlist, and it isn't even 9am yet. :)

Stolen moments and sunlit days,
Glittering lights, smoky haze
There's nothing more we could have been
But baby, you're my trampoline.

Sitting on a merry-go-round
Through rhythm, making life unsound
Returning to the same vivid scene
You've always been, my trampoline.

Moonlit walks and childish games
Whispered oaths and secret names
Lighting up those movie screens
Right back with you, my trampoline.

We're a circle that has no end
An ever recurring fashion trend
A never ending deja-vu,
A trampoline. That's me and you.

Stardust

2011-02-28T12:37:00.000-08:00

Let the light in your eye
Be so bright, that it blinds you
Let the beat of your heart
Trace the world till it finds you

Let the sound of the crowd
Ring out loud, all around you
And the smile from your face
Touch the souls that surround you

As you take to the stage
And you step in the spot
And you lose who you are
To be someone you're not

You see glitter, softly shining
With your body, entwining
And those little bits of dust
Become nothing but just ...

Stardust.
When it's just you ...
In the spotlight
All you can do ...
Is shine bright

And the world disappears
Don't your eyes fill with tears?
At the sight of the darkness
No feeling can replace this,
And all you can trust ...
Is stardust.

Why I Fell in Love with Calcutta

2010-12-14T14:27:00.000-08:00

                I hadn’t expected the breeze, but there it was. I stepped out of the airport, into the street, and I felt it playfully running through my hair. The first order of business was to rid myself of the cumbersome sweater I had on; part of my Bangalore attire that I wouldn’t need in hot, dusty Calcutta.
                I’m greeted with the legendary Calcutta warmth. The father of the bride is here in person to pick me up, and sits quietly in the front of the iconic white ambassador while I catch up with his daughter in the back seat. We meander through the throngs of people on the streets and as we round a corner, my phone rings. ‘Welcome to the hometown!’ says a familiar voice on the other end of the line. And the first question he puts to me is, ‘How are you dealing with the smell?’ So I roll down my window, and draw a deep breath, expecting the stench of fish, the reek of garbage, or at the least, a whiff of heavily polluted air. Instead, I am greeted by the sweet smell of the earth mingled with the scent of people squished together in a narrow lane. It is beginning to rain, and Calcutta is running for cover.
                My first thought is that this city has a feel unlike any other. It does not shine with the luster of Bombay, or rush at the speed that Delhi does. It isn’t ancient and palatial like Jaipur, nor is it young and hippie filled like Goa. Calcutta is a perfect blend of all of the above. And in the one week I spent there, I got a taste of all of it.

                The first leg of my journey takes me to the northernmost tip of the city, to the tiny time-capsule of a town called Panihati, with its small, winding roads, large ancestral homes built in the 1920s and temples at the banks of the Hoogly. I pass an old, derelict house that has crumbled steadily over time. The roots of a tree, older than the house itself, snake their way across the walls, into the very foundation of the house. I cannot help but think of nature reclaiming what is rightfully hers.
                A few steps more and I am at the banks of the holiest of rivers in the country. A man passes me and dives into the Ganga with a loud ‘Jai, Ma!’ on his lips. He dips into the river three times and walks out with a smile. In the evening we walk down the narrow streets to the local sweet shop. Hot samosas await us. I dip my crisp, hot treat into the sweet and spicy chutney and experience, after many years, a perfect combination of flavours. We begin the walk back, content with having spent all of Rs. 6 on two perfectly made samosas. Calcutta just keeps getting better.
                At night, I kneel before the solitary tap on the terrace, and wash my face. I stand back up and look out over the terrace, past the temple, and see the lights of the little boats twinkling in the river. And just like that, Calcutta becomes my favourite city in India.

Over the next few days I discover that Calcutta is a foodie’s paradise. From mutton curries to fish chops, chicken rolls to giant prawns, Calcutta gets it right every time. And no other cuisine is as creative with its vegetables as that of the Bengalis. They are well known for their artistic bent of mind and evidence of this can be seen (and tasted) in their mouthwatering dishes that never cease to delight.
In Calcutta, the main course is served after the meal. Mishti – sweets – is what the city is famous for. Innumerable types of Sandesh (milk sweets), sugary Rosogullas, hot, crispy Jalebis and imaginative Kheers (ever tasted a kheer made of beetroot? And liked it?) are only the tip of the ice berg. Bengali Mishti takes the term ‘sweet tooth’ to a whole different level. It is no wonder that here I am, after a week in Calcutta, already 2 kilos heavier than when I left.

The last few days of my trip are spent in south Calcutta. This is where I realize how cheap the city is. A metro ticket from one tip to the other costs no more than Rs.10, and I still have to come across a street food vendor who charges more than Rs.2 for a small cup of chai.
The river looks different from this part of the city. The people are different. The crowd is younger, the houses are newer, the air is denser. Park Street and the Esplanade take you back to the colonial times and the British hangover is evident and widespread. The roads are wider, the lamp posts are embellished and the Victoria Memorial stands out as Britain’s last claim to glory in their erstwhile Indian capital city of Calcutta.

Never have I seen such a confluence of people, cultures or cuisines as I have seen in Calcutta. I intend to return to the city as often as I possibly can. After all, that is where I’ve left my heart.

When Pumpkins Become Carriages

2010-10-27T11:54:00.000-07:00

[This one's for you, my partner in crime;

Sorry, but this once, it's not in rhyme.]

Tonight, I must write.

I could write about change, but that doesn't last.

I could write about now, but that's in the past.

And tonight, I will not resort to rhyme.

I'll just let the words flow, this time.

Life leaves us with so many questions to answer.

And we leave this life with so many answers to give.

And what for?

We come into this world, naked and alone. We search for the truth.

We wonder about the purpose. We procreate. And then we move on.

Funny, how all the little problems, the tiny inconveniences and the then-so-significant events, seem invisible now.

In fact, when seen through the eyes of the universe, our single lives seem to be of no consequence.

And yet.

Every one of us has hopes. And fears. And joy. And tears.

And that one impossible dream, for those who dare to dream.

Childhood passes by, fleeting, intangible, never enough.

Youth comes and goes, always too reckless, always too soon. Filled with ambition enough to conquer the world.

Then it dies. The fire fades. The dreams become hazy. Ambition replaced by 'If Only's and 'It might have been's.

Bring back the spark. Don't let it die out.

Let that burst of energy come from within.

The light doesn't need to dazzle the world. But let it shock your soul out of hibernation.

Be radiant. Be resplendent. Be shiny.

Chase it. Whatever it is. And make it yours.

It matters. It never stopped mattering. It just seemed too far away.

Get up. Shake it off. And start walking.

Make this one count.

And when it's done, you can take a long, long nap.

And you will be at peace.

Because you became all you had to become.

You were exactly who you were born to be.

You played the game, the race was won,

You weren't made for mediocrity.

The Love I Can't Ignore

2010-10-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

We were young, we were free

There was the world, and you and me

Rainy days and ecstasy

Black and white memories

Smiling, happy families

Starry nights and bended knees

Chocolate lakes, diamond tears

Shining hopes, sordid fears

Hostile hugs and friendly jeers

Turning, turning through the years

Till the twilight slowly nears

As the world politely cheers

I was yours, you were mine

In a fairytale divine

Watching close for every sign

That would make our paths entwine

Living each day by design

You and me, we walked the line

In the twinkling of an eye

A hurried, incomplete goodbye

Not a word, not a sigh

You didn't stay, I didn't try

Though Time has slowly passed us by

Still waiting for the tears to dry

There is a love that time obscures

There is a love that's often cured

There is a love that's not for sure

There is a love that isn't pure

Then there's the love you can't ignore

Mine is that love, which is no more

Now you are young and you are free

There's still the world, but only me

Just living by the memory

Of all the sights we didn't see

If love is all it's meant to be

Without a trace, how can it flee?

If every heart needs must feel pain

How can that same heart love again?

A thing like love you cannot feign

It's every nuance will remain

You have all to lose and loss to gain

It never leaves, it doesn't wane.

And yet for love we all do yearn

Though we well know the heart can turn

The tears will flow, the soul will burn ...

And yet,

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn,

Is just to love, and be loved, in return."

My Never Ending Rhyme

2010-04-26T10:57:00.000-07:00

I always thought that a perfect world would be one in which everyone spoke in rhyme. I lived it for a few days many years ago, when Aveek mailed me a poem and I replied back in verse. The back and forth went on, and hasn't stopped to this day. Click on the comments link to see the replies. Most of it may not make sense, but then again, you had to be there.

Oh yes, feel free to add your own nonsense to this. As the title suggests, it's a never ending rhyme. So here goes,

The Mystical Potato-Head Groove!

Aveek:

Wiggle your ears
Bring out some tears
Shake and make your whole head move!
Grin till you frown
And hang upside-down
Lets do the mystical potato-head groove!

Put on some pop
Take off your top
Dance till your legs give way!
Chew lots of ice
Feed all the mice
Thats the mystical potato-head way!

Run up and dowwn
Through the length of the town
Once you're done, do it all over again!
Get a TV
And a couch, both for free
And be like mystical potato-head men!

Eat your heart out
Keep your dog out
Be as mean as you can!
Drive fast cars
But never drink in the bars
Act like a mystical potato-head fan!

Go to NIMHANS
Flunk your exams
Get a scary result!
Make a lightening scar
And be happy that you are
Finally part of the mystical potato-head cult!

The things you must do
That just are not you
To keep yourself with the 'in' crowd
You know they're artificial
And they know it too
So prey, why are you so loud?

Just be who you are
Reset the bar
Stop being something pseudo!
Tell 'em just what you think
Or put it down in ink
Andd get back to playing Ludo.

So, what would you like to do?

Snort through your nose
Bathe with the hose
Pretend you're part of Star Trek's crew?
Have smelly underwear
Or cut your own hair
And do whatever you want to do?

Or would you rather wiggle your ears
Bring out some tears
Shake and make your whole head move?
Grin till you frown
And hang upside-down
And do the mystical potato-head groove?

You decide ...

On A Hazy Lazy Summer's Day

2010-03-17T00:44:00.000-07:00

There's something about a hot, blinding summer's day that makes you philosophical. And dreamy. And poetic. And surreal. Like when you step out into the sun and you can't open your eyes for fear of letting in too much light. Or when you find that perfect spot in the shade where the sun is still on your back, the air is not too still, and all the chatter and babble of people around you slowly dies out as though melting away with the heat. And as you sit there, in a state of unmatchable bliss, your mind begins to wander.You might think of holidays. Or family. Or food. Or that cute guy you met at your friend's place. Or the girl who always lingers on in your thoughts.

I dream of the Neverland. What would it really be like to never grow up?
I dream of those days in school we spent under the banyan tree.
Of the time when our we laughed, not to hide pain, but just to laugh.
Of the crazy dreams we dreamed and the countless promises we made.
I dream of fairy dust and the spirit of youth.

I think of the question someone asked me not long ago. 'Is growing up difficult?' All I could say at the time was 'I don't know. I never did'. But I realise that is not true. I have grown up. Some dreams have faded, and some have grown stronger. There are days when even my widest smile doesn't reach my eyes. There are days that make it difficult to even recall the reckless abandon of childhood.

And then it strikes me. That the Neverland is never out of reach. You just have to find the right spot, close your eyes, and find it. And as long as you know it's somewhere within you, nothing that life can possible throw your way will ever derail you. Keep that Neverland safe, and don't let it go.

So the next time life starts getting to me, I'll look it in the eye and face things like a grown up. When it's done, I'll go right back to my special spot in the sun and close my eyes. And then I'll be off. Second to the right, and straight on till morning. :)

We're Cool Like That

2010-02-08T00:05:00.000-08:00

I'm a big fan of spontaneity.
Especially when spontaneity involves an unplanned, unexpected and unparalleled trip to Goa, with my bestest friend in the world.

Before we knew it, we were on a bus headed to the land of sun, sand and marijuana. Looking forward our first grown up trip, our first footloose and fancy-free experience and of course, 2010.

The trip began in a packed Government bus from Majestic. For company through the journey we had well behaved, blond haired babies, sappy Bollywood dialogues from Shahrukh, Salman and Rakhie, and a lavish three course meal consisting of kababs, sandwiches and pastries. It's no wonder that we were all a bit queasy by the time we reached the next morning.

At Shailesh's place, we were greeted with banana milkshake, macaroni and toast and butter fresh from the oven. It felt good to be on firm ground, eating hot buttered toast and cribbing about our journey.

We spent the day in North Goa with Sohini and Obhi, eating beach food, walking in the waves, and debating whether or not the tandoori calamari at Brittos was better than the butter garlic.

Later in the evening we found a secluded spot at Anjuna beach, where we sat, took pictures and Sohini and Rifa made an interesting game of my love life.

That night found us at Nine Bar. Hypnotic trance music, drugged, over enthusiastic dancers and some delicious green chilli pizzas later we headed to Curlies for some lip smacking Strawberry juice and Goan curry. Driving back with the 100 best rock songs of all time, ended our first perfect day. :)

The next day we made a lazy start, not waking till 11am, and not even daring to head out before 2. Even slower than our decision of waking up was the eternal dilemma of what to wear.

A few costume changes and a long photo session later, we headed to Foodland. One of my favourite places in Goa.

We had a great time here. Burgers, mint soda pops and some really really bad coffee were the perfect complements to the crazy conversation, insane laughter and sheer fun that we had!

Sunset saw us driving north to the flea market that Shailesh was the most excited about. But what with our late rising, some lousy directions and incomplete information, we arrived only to find a deserted field with a hundred tubelights. So much for buying fleas.

Driving back, one of Shailesh's 'old tires' gave way (since he'd been turning them at 80) right outside a haunted church that stood firm opposite a wine store.

We changed the tire, and in doing so, built up an appetite for the fantastic meal we were to have at Magic Italy. Fish in mushroom sauce, and a cheese loaded pizza. Yummy.

The morning of the 31st dawned bright and early - for Rifa. She often woke before any of us so she could have first dibs on the big box of home made chocolate biscuits that Shailesh's mom generously entrusted us with.

After fooling around a bit with the camera, we finally awoke and reconvened on Shailesh's big bed. We spent the entire afternoon lying around eating chocolate biscuits and watching That '70s Show.

As the evening drew on, we started prepping for the Big Night.

All dressed up and bronzed down, we entreated Shailesh to do another photo session, before we left home.

We headed to Kentucky's for a New Year's Eve drink, which brought back some funny memories involving Minhaj, Rai and an alcoholic pineapple slice.

From there to Fernando's Dinner and Dance, where we arrived promptly at 8pm.

The contents of the conversation of that night can unfortunately not be documented, but let's just say that at least the three of us have no more room for secrets from each other. :)

A fantastic meal, extremely good looking waiters and scandalous conversation made for a perfect night.

We rung in the New Years in the car, our hangout for the entire trip, with Elvis crooning in the background and fireworks lighting up the sky all around us.

We mellowed down with the Piano Man before heading back home, where we played Kings Cup and became sillier by the minute.

The first day of the New Year, and our final day in Goa was every bit what a perfect day should be.

From scrambled eggs to breezers on the beach, tender coconut ice cream and narial pani - we did it all. I doubt we will ever be allowed back in the Naturals at Panjim, but it was all worth it.

A big red moon watched over us as we ate dinner at Kentucky's and all the way to the bus stop where we finally said good bye.

Rifa and I slept through the entire bus ride back. Exhausted from the most exhilarating and liberating spontaneous trip that we've ever made.

I've been to Goa many a time. With family, with friends, with school. But never before have I laughed so hard or had so much fun.

Reiterating Karan Arjun dialogues, dancing to trance music, enjoying calamari, lazing around reading xkcd comics, our patented fashion shows and photo shoots and of course, Sohini, Obhi and mostly, Rifa and Shailesh - all came together to make for the most amazing holiday.

And if there is one thing I take away from this, it's that all of us need to plan to be more spontaneous, more often, all together. :)

The Comic Verses :)

2009-12-21T09:28:00.000-08:00

I don't really know why
But I'd like to try
Writing a verse or two
Could be that I'm mad
Or awfully glad
Or have nothing better to do!

You must often have wondered
Or randomly pondered
On how weird life really is
From runny noses to roses
One often composes
A song sung in absolute bliss

The plans that we oft make
The roles we undertake
Soon flip inside out without reason
Black and white juxtapose
Poetry turns to prose
Which I grant, is never as pleasin'!

Now my mind's off somewhere
Without thought or care
So distant from everything 'rhyme'
Guess I shouldn't be
Writing poetry
At such a delusional time!

But it's been too long
Since I tried out this song
Must keep the rhythm alive in my head
Though not groovy or mystical
And mostly just whimsical
It sounds pretty good in my head!

Be Kind, Rewind.

2009-10-08T10:03:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes and a whole host of memories flash through my head.

The ducks. The dishes. The doughnuts.
Slippers. Sandwiches. Snow.
ASDA. Apples. Algebra.
Books. Biryani. BirmingJam.
Chocolate. Consuelo. Cold milk. Costcutters.
Dairy Milk. Dhoodhi. Desperate Housewives.
Eggs. Excitement. Exams.
Fridge diagrams. Fire Alarms.
Ginger tea. Gutu.

Hot Sauce. Heppo. High Heels.
The Internet.
Jumana. Jalapenos.
Kirans. Krispy Kreme. Kitchen Parties.
Love. Lemons The Learning Grid
Music. Math. Magic. Monopoly.
Northway. Noodles. The Nursery.
Odeon. Organic Humous. Operational Research.

5 kilos of Potatoes. The Pakkar.
Running. Too much Rice.
Swans. Spanish. Singing.
TV. Trust. Tesco.

Vacuuming.
Water bills. Winter. Wonder.
Xerox copies.
Yellow vegetables.
Zeenats. Zebra Crossings. Zahra'.

I hope you understand now.

I love you, and I miss you
What else is there to say?

The Land of Colour

2009-03-11T13:09:00.000-07:00

It would have started with a late breakfast. Mom supervises the dosa making. Papa watching the news. Raashid trying to study amidst all the noise, on the breakfast table. Me rummaging through mom's cupboard to find something to wear.
By noon we would be about ready to leave. Raashid refusing to shave. Mom debating on whether to carry a bag. Papa and me fighting over the car keys. And mom would end up stuffing all her things into my bag.
We'd drive out to Archana aunty's place. Mom making excuses on the phone as to why we weren't there yet. Raashid making the same excuses to Push on the phone. And me trying to hear the music over and above the din.
We would be greeted by a flash of colour as everyone ran to be the first to smear us with that everlasting pink powder. There would be laughter, and running, and shrieks from the willing victims of the pichkaaris. Mom being cautiously uninhibited, Raashid trying to play with colour and the football all at once, and Papa letting loose and becoming a boy again. I'd dash around trying to avoid the water, with a handful of red intended for the next person I saw.
As the sun set, we would sit around a fire, filled to the brim with barbequed paneer and rajma chaawal. Papa and the men talking of food, golf and of course, the markets. Mom and the women making brunch dates and talking of servants. Raash teaching the rest of the boys how to play poker. And me sitting in the midst of all of this with a good book.

And that is how it should have been today. On this day of holi, in the land of colour. Instead, Papa and Mom went to work. Raash went to school for an important exam. And I sit alone in a room in England, wishing that I hadn't taken all those days for granted. The days of sunshine, pichkaaris and tandoori chicken. The days of colour, in the most colourful place in the world. Home.

One Half of A Rhyme: Dedicated to The One Who Completes the Lines!

2009-02-02T20:38:00.000-08:00

There is one that no words can name,
No music write nor pictures frame
Lends light to light
And thought to aim
Leaves love and life not quite the same.

She looks, for everyone to see
What she was and all she can be
Her eyes reflect
What words neglect
In open revelry

Without a knock, or opening line
All at once, in level nine
In she walked,
She seldom talked
Which should have been a sign

Through the tragic teen-age years
We thought in rhyme and wrote in verse
Of seas and sands,
While holding hands
For better or for worse

The many roads that we have walked
The many tunes that we have rocked
All come to light
With what she writes
On her blog that’s so well stocked!

She’s kept me up through endless nights
Dazzling with such glittering lights
Of country tunes
And love struck loons
On which we set our sights

And many need a treasure chest
In which to lay their secrets rest
I too have one
By moon or sun
And she keeps them the best.

And though we are but miles apart
I know that I need only start
A simple beat
Which she’ll complete
And keep within her heart.

I hope she knows I love her still
As I’m sure I always will
She sets me right
From black to white
Although her looks can kill!

Defining the undefinable?

2007-05-23T19:07:00.000-07:00

Love.
There's one word that is difficult to define.
"It is something that cannot be described, only felt" they say.
"Love is blind" they profess.
"Love has no language" they claim.
Love is beautiful, love is wondrous, love is free.

Rubbish.

We live in a world of hypocrisy.
A world where the one thing everyone has mastered is the art of judging others.
The art of knowing what is 'correct' and what boundaries cannot be crossed.
The skill with which 'the worng', the 'weird', the 'unusual' can be defined.
And still they say, "Love conquers all".

Today I am an eighteen year old girl.
My life is filled with colourful characters that have shaped me into what I am.
Some have come and gone, leaving their mark.
Some are still present, contributing to who I will become.
I could not be more happy with my life as it is now.
And yet.

Two years ago, I walked into a new stage of my life, when I walked into my drama school.
I met a wonderful person who has come to mean a lot to me and who - to me - epitomizes the kind of person I would like to be when I finally do step out of Neverland and into the real world.
The kind of person who is living my idea of an ideal life.
A person who provides me with a place and an oppportunity to do what I love best.
A person whom I 'love'.

And when I say this people smile.
Cunning smiles, with sparkling eyes.
Waiting precariously for me to pronounce the name of this wonderful person.
Unconsciously planning wedding dates and seeing china patterns and wondering if our kids would grow up to inherit my nose or his eyes.
And then I deal the blow.
It's my drama teacher, I cheerfully proclaim.
Oblivious to the silent gasos, and looks of exasperation.

Suddenly the smiles come off the formerly radiant faces.
Interest has waned. The moment has passed.
It wasn't the love story they were looking for.
And yet, I love her.
And after all love knows no boundaries, right?

"Don't worry about people", she tells me.
"They just don't get it. After all this Is unusual."
And that right there is the definition of love.

A feeling that is only real if it toes the line.
A line already defined by - 'them'.
A word, more often than not, mixed up with physical relationships.
Intimacy. Candlelight. Diamonds.

Or at the other end of the spectrum, family.
Mothers day. Raksha bandhan. Fairy tales.

Any relationship outside these broad classifications are just - not real.
Unacceptable.
Because they are different.
They involve change.
And 'they' do not want to change.
They do not want to see anything they cannot recognise.
And they try to make you believe that you don't see it either.

But they aren't the ones who know what love really is.
At least not in the complete sense of the word.

But the next time someone makes you feel like suddenly, you are not being judged?
That you can be whoever you want to be?
That the world belongs to you and that people are only incidental?

Hold on to them.
And no matter what the world may say, do not let go.

Some relationships cannot be classified.
And believe me, those are the ones that will last forever.

it's been a while ...

2007-02-28T17:33:00.000-08:00

I last wrote something for this blog more than a year ago.
For a year I have kept all my feelings to myself.
For a year I have not put pen to paper with any objective other than writing an exam.
And after all this time, I return to the written word.
Hoping that it is still the same. That it will provide me with the safe haven I used to have and gave up for no particular reason.
I don't really know what to expect. All I know is that I must write.
Yes, at 1.38am, in a place I least expected to be spending at least the next three years of my life all I can think of is - I must write. And so I will.

Exactly a year ago, on this very date I was heading off for my first board exam. Standard XII. We were together then. All of us. You know who you are.
We laughed, joked, cried and fought away so many years of our lives. And then we found ourselves on a precipice. Knowing that at some point we would have to jump.
What we didn't know is where we would fall.
Or whether we would survive.

And now, miles away from that life. Miles away from my country ... miles away from my childhood...
I again find myself on a precipice.
But this time, I don't know how long it will be before I jump.
I sit within these four walls, in a room smelling of freshly done laundry watching the same bare trees out of the same window and watching the rain pour down incessantly - day after day.
And I think.
Is this a new phase in my life? Or a new life?

When I return home I am treated as a guest.
My own room seems strange, my home seems alien.
All my life I have lived in colour. In festivals. In celebration. In movies.
Suddenly, it is all black and white.
The skies are grey. The people white. The coats black. The trees bare.
Will I ever return?
Suddenly I fit in here. This insipid place has bled me of all my colour.
I must return.
I will return.
But will I belong?

Has this move forward sealed all the doors behind me?
Am I in for another eighteen years devoid of passion and colour and feeling?

And yet, sitting here tonight I can feel.
More deeply than I have ever felt before.
It is strange how anger and hatred can be so much stronger than love and joy.
How you can feel hatred deep down in your gut, but joy only as far as your heart.
But I feel. And that gives me hope.
I have fit in, but I remain me.
This land is cold, but I remain warm.
It may take years, but I will jump.
And then I will be back where I belong.

And then, at seeing my home again I will feel joy right down to my toes.
And I will know that I am alright.

This felt good. I'm back to stay.

promises

2006-02-07T06:34:00.000-08:00

God hath not promised skies always blue
Flower strewn pathways, all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.

God hath not promised we shal not know
Toil and temptations, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.

God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river, turbid and deep.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labour, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing kindness, undying love.

Des'ree ma'am - thank you.

dream

2006-01-26T10:52:00.000-08:00

They're out there somewhere,
You just don't know them yet...
Mocking at your every move
Laughing at what you might forget
Knowing all the time....

They watch you from afar
You only hear a voice...
Dancing out of sight
Overpowering you with choice
Playing tricks with time...

They know their final fate
You're left with just a clue
They seem to exist to lead you
But that's not what they do
Forgetting place and time...

They beckon you with a vengeance
As you stumble along
They lie at the end of a weary road
And you push your way through a pulsing throng
Just to get to them in time...

And once you reach you may just see
They were not worth the struggle
You come crashing back to reality
As every choice you tried to juggle
Just fades away with time...

But sometimes when you find them
They make you feel complete
They take off your heavy burden
And massage your tired feet
The sweet reward of time...

They will always be out there
Their faces will move and change
It's up to you to follow them
Though to others they may seem strange
Keeping with passing time...

The secret is to follow them
Wherever they may lead
And when they're tired of hiding
They won't remain unseen.

That's the moment that matters
The moment you finally find
That everything you were searching for
Was hiding in your mind.

You learn from your tiring journey
However difficult it may seem,
The value of life's long pathway
The true worth of your dream.

Chacha Nehru Where Were You ?

2005-11-21T10:13:00.000-08:00

Ethnic Day - Children's Day - last ethnic day - last children's day - but did you also know that it was World Diabetes Day???

AAARRGGHHH! the worst children's day ever - back home with aching feet, a broken back, and a strong and deep rooted disgust with all things sweet, chocolatey, sugary - or remotely related to - you guessed it - diabetes.

They had to choose Nov 14th didn't they?
Well, Murphy wins again!

2005-09-08T08:27:00.000-07:00

On Top Of The World!

2005-09-08T08:25:00.000-07:00

Ready ... Set... GO!

Like a Walk In The Rain...

2005-07-30T10:44:00.000-07:00

There comes a time in every one of our lives in which all we need is a break from 'reality'. A pleasant distraction from all that is mundane and ordinary. A chance to slip into another world and imagine- withut inhibitions - without restrictions - because this escape is not tangible, it's in the mind.
But let's face it. In this cray world, all of this is considered 'a waste of time', 'gibberish', 'nonsensical' - and yet there is a way. A tiny path that brings with it the promise of leading us out of yesterday, past today, and into tomorrow. Not just our tomorrow, but any tomorrow that we would wish it to lead us to.
It can take you anywhere you can conceive, make you any person you dream of, fill you with emotions that you never knew could exist in your soul. This tiny path can fulfill your every fantasy - make you whatever you wish to be - a princess missing a glass slipper, a prejudiced Elizabeth looking for her Darcy, a young Simba, searching for a sign of his father in his own reflection... and suddenly the curtain is drawn and you are yourself again. Holding on desperately to those few moments of fame. Wishing that you would find your Darcy. Praying that you were the lucky girl who fit into the glass slipper and sometmes even thanking God that you didn't go through the pain that Simba did.
Theatre. This wonderful avenue of hope, dreams and amazement. A stage that lifts you right up through the clouds. The lights that make you feel on top of the world when they hit you right in the face. The rush that follows a job well done. The pride - that in someway, maybe, you touched the same emotions that were aroused in you when you were among the audience. And the gladness, that this time you're on the other side of the curtain.

!!! Let's Start Over !!!

2005-05-24T10:42:00.000-07:00

Invictus

2005-05-17T10:40:00.000-07:00

Out of the night that covers me
Black as a pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever Gods there may be
For this my unconquerable soul

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloodied
Yet unbowed

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade
And yet the menace of the years
Find and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate
How charged with punishment the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul

This is something I read at a cousins' place at New Jersey and it really touched me... not that i understand every bit, but the last two lines summarize it, at least for me... thought i'd share it with all of you...

My Happy Place

2005-04-12T06:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I want to get away from everything. From the same boring sights I see everyday… from the same people I meet day in and day out… From the same feelings I feel when I am in the same situations I have been in so often….

For a long time I did not know how to get away from all this… where do you run when familiar faces follow you everywhere you go? When people start caring about you at the exact instant that you want to be left alone… When everyone thinks the best way out is to ‘talk’ and ‘socialize’ and you are looked upon as a loner if you just ask to spend a few moments, or even a few days of your own life with yourself.

But now … finally… I think I have found my happy place… a place where I feel free and complete. A place where I know I belong … a place that I wish to be a permanent part of when the time comes… a place where I know I am wanted and loved … a place where I am not judged… where I can learn without the fear of being patronized… where I can speak without being cut off or interrupted… where I know I will always be welcome… a place that gives me the joy and the pleasure that comes from doing something you love… my happy place …
This place is real … it’s tangible … and anyone can reach it … but what makes it special for me is that I know, when I walk up to the gate, that this is no ordinary place I have come to…I know that as soon as I walk through that door, all my worries and cares will melt into nothingness… I know … that this is where I belong.

And to think that it was there all the time and I found it on a rainy Bangalore day, when I had nowhere to go and no one to meet… at a point when I was not answerable to anyone … about where I was or when I would be back… walking… all alone… in the drizzle… and my feet just led me to where I had to go…

And there she was … the one who makes my happy place what it is… and without whom it would just be another address in the phonebook. As I entered, I felt the warmth envelope me and, on my face, a smile just seemed to make it’s way from one ear to the other…

I didn’t realise how time flew that evening… I was content … satisfied… happy. I was working with someone I loved… working on something I loved… and it seems to me that the most perfect moment in time existed for me… then. The moment was so unpretentious, so precious, so real … It will be etched in my mind for a very, very long period of time…

And all I can say is Thank You God, for creating this place for me … for creating the creator of my happy place and for leading my tiny feet to that one spot, amongst a million others in Bangalore… a place that I love more than any place I know… my happy place… :)

2005-04-07T05:11:00.000-07:00

why do the worst things happen to the best people?
what has ma'am done to deserve all this??
i just don't get it...
i'm so so scared...
please let everything be ok...
please...

all that matters ...

2005-03-22T09:29:00.000-08:00

The love in you and the love in me,
is all that matters...
all the rest is just vanity, that time will shatter...
the only treasure in the life we live
is in the measure of the love we give...
all that matters in the end will be
the love in you and the love in me ......
that's all that matters

every heart must change it's shape
to fit the space that a lifetime makes...
some regrets and some mistakes...
we touch happiness, but we can't hold her...
feelings come and disappear..
i've known the laughter, i've cried those tears...
i should know better after all these years,
but i'm no wiser... i'm just older...

The loving you and the loving me,
is all that matters...
all the rest is just vanity,
that time will shatter...
the only tresure in the life we live
is in the measure of the love we give...
all that matters in the end will be.....
the love in you and the love in me ….
……. that's all that matters …

Empty

2005-03-22T04:38:00.000-08:00

My room is gone.
No pictures, no photographs, not even a bed.
Just four blank walls. One stark purple.
The music is echoing all around the room.
That sounds nice.

"The love in you and the love in me...
That's all that matters...
All the rest is just vanity..
That time will shatter...."

That feels nice.

all that matters

2005-03-18T12:59:00.000-08:00

Someone said something really true today.
its only worth crying over people who would cry for you.
it's the greatest battle in my head right now.
on one hand, having a reallly close relationship with someone and getting hurt in the process will sting. bad. and for that period of time you feel disgusted at thinking of the bad stuff and you start picking out the cons of the relationship. and if you hadn't gotten so close it wouldn't hurt so bad.
But on the other hand... when you move past that point, when time heals all the sores.. u look back and cherish the memories you did make.
these memories will last forever. the pain will heal with time.
so is it not better to go through that momentary pain and treasure the memories forever?
you will look back on the times with a smile.
a sad smile that things didn't end differently.
or that things ended at all.
but a smile nonetheless.
and isn't that all that matters?

Exams!

2005-03-16T08:00:00.000-08:00

Need I say more? It's that time of the year... sigh ... well i actually have nothing to post about and the blog was getting kinda dormant so.. i thought i'd talk about current events!!!! :-)
Oh btw... for complete entertainment please do visit http://www.raikamal.blogspot.com you will not need any other form of entertainment ever again!!!!
hee hee.. ok .. .will get back to eco now...
ciao!

TGIF!!!!!!

2005-03-14T03:28:00.000-08:00

For those of you who know what i'm talking about... Friday evening was a great success... she LOVED the card, the poem and hopefully the shoebox too. She didn't go through it there so... Watch this space next Friday... will know by then...
It feels so good just thinking of Fridays ... it's seriously my happy place! Class i mean... It's nice to be with a bunch of unpretentious, fun and sweet people ... of course aunty tops the list!
Savi ..... FRIDAY!
(sorry bout the vagueness of the post. am still high about the math thing.) [rewind- WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!]

Wheeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!

2005-03-14T03:22:00.000-08:00

Math is officially over!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MUHOHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!!
No more trigonometry for a long long LONG time!!!!!!!!!
LA LALALAL ALA LAL ALALALAL!!!!!!
ok... i have officially lost it!!!!!!!!!
:-))))) (no, those are not my multiple chins...!) they're just me grinning so hard that..... well, i don't know........ I'm feeling unwontedly benevolent and forgiving today!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh btw... the paper was actually decent!!!!!!! WHOA!!!!!!!!!
:o)

BLACK

2005-03-12T12:55:00.000-08:00

the blog must reflect what you feel.
ok then. i feel black.
pitch black.
jet black.
black.

You

2005-03-12T12:39:00.000-08:00

Imagine having to go away.
From everyone you love.
From everything you treasure.
From every piece of furniture, every article of clothing.
From every familiar smell, every well-known taste.
Every comforting touch, every soothing sound.
From all your senses.

Imagine having to start all over again.
Away from home.
Away from the earth.
Your being. Your identity.
Being again. Living a dream.
Starting over. From the very beginning.
Away from ‘you’.

Imagine having to walk among strangers.
No familiar faces.
No knowing smiles.
Having to sell yourself all over again.
As you did the first time round.
Afraid of being rejected.
Afraid of being alone.

Imagine having to rebuild everything.
With new bricks.
With fresh cement.
All by yourself. Completely alone.
Trying to fit in with the unfamiliar faces.
The strange sounds. New smells.
Avoiding change - in vain.

Imagine waking up and finding it wasn’t a dream.
Waking up in a strange bed.
Looking down at hands that are not yours.
Unaccustomed to the face in the mirror.
Unaccustomed to the eyes on the face.
Unaccustomed to the soul behind the eyes.
Completely lost. Helpless.

Imagine all this happening to you.
Imagine for one moment not being you.
Not knowing your own family.
Your own friends. Own belongings.
Your own identity.
Then kneel before your bed to thank God.
That He has made you You.

Why?

2005-03-01T05:05:00.000-08:00

I can't believe she's actually leaving. It's like this horrendous nightmare you know you're going to have and so you just don't wanna go to sleep. First it was complete denial, then anger, then self pity, then fake acceptance, but yesterday it sunk in. Just hit me like a dart hits the board. Like the big, harsh raindrops hit the concrete pavement. And for a moment everything seemed so totally out of my hands. Exactly like in a nightmare... being bound within your own mind, within your own thoughts and not being able to do a thing about it. No matter how much you writhe, scream or sweat... the nightmare goes on.
And the worst part is that there are no tears left. It's just this hollow, empty feeling. This ache. The feeling you're left with when you've just finished a mud pie and you know it's the last and only one. But multiplied by a million.
Let me take back the first line of that last para. No. The worst part is definitely the fact that I don't have a right to show what I feel. I don't have a right to spend the last few hours I have with her.... With her. I'm such a misfit when I am with her anyway. She has her own friends, her own class ... I'm just an outsider who she used to talk to. Someone you have to put up with because you know him/her and can't possbly avoid them when you are confined to one campus for almost 60% of the day.
I just don't want her to go. I wish I could do something to change her mind. But i'm insignificant. She will go. It'll be a nightmare.
I don't wanna sleep.

Too Close

2005-02-24T06:46:00.000-08:00

Have you ever gotten So close to a person that you feel that you are not 2 people any more?
When something good happens to them you feel proud yourself... so close that you want to scream with joy?
When they cry to you on the phone and you find yourself HATING the person that did this to her/him even if it sometimes is you yourself? How you get that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when he or she is down and you're miles away and can't do anything about it ... ?
When someone compliments him or her and you pat your back ... not out of selfishness or misplaced pride, but with sheer, true joy?
That when someone says something about them to you, you stick up for them unconsciously no matter what the logical part of your mind says?
Ever been SO close to a friend that you have complete blind faith in them and between the two sides of the story the other person is always at fault coz that friend of yours can never do anything wrong?
Ever SO close that your heart literally overflows when you thank God every night in your prayers for sending this person into your life?
It's logically not good to get so close to anybody. Because when they go away it will hurt ... a LOT... and you have to be ready to bear it. But does that mean you give up all the above feelings
of pride and thankfulness just out of fear of losing it?
Well I'm lucky enough to say that I am this close to a few special people and believe me it's worth everything.
Just that they are there for you through anything and everything. Through it all. And I will do everything in my power to be there for you ... forever.
There's nothing like too close.
We were, are and alway will be ... So close.
Always.
Thank you Rai.

Na-thing!

2005-02-22T05:26:00.000-08:00

Hey people...
As you can see I hve absolutely nothing to post!!!!! So have picked up a few random snaps and posted them here... will continue doing so till I feel like writinf bu somthing/anything....

2005-02-22T05:24:00.000-08:00

:-)

2005-02-22T05:21:00.001-08:00

Rai n me ... GOA!

2005-02-22T05:21:00.000-08:00

Whilst Bernard Shaw Sleepeth!

What I'd Like To Do ...

2005-02-13T01:29:00.000-08:00

Sleep through the storm
Move till I'm warm,
Scream so the neighbours wake up...
Spin all around
Run through the town,
But never drink at the pub!

Flow with the breeze,
Sing till I sneeze,
Write till I run out of ink...
Cry till I'm laughing,
Sigh till I'm barfing
Stare and never have to blink!

Eat macaroni
Lie till I'm phony
Drool so they think that I'm dead
Watch till I'm seeing
Live till I'm being
Talk till I'm saying, "I said."

Spin till I'm forty
Knit till I'm dotty
Turn time back to BC
Run up a mountain
Swim in a fountain
Make all the ducks go "Wheeeeeee.....!"

Stretch till I'm yawning,
Chess till I'm pawn-ing
Click till the memory stick's full
Flare so I'm scary
Fur so I'm bear-y
Stock till I move up to bull!

Smile till you're smiling
Cry when you're crying
Being there to keep you afloat
Pray till they're answered
Share till they're transferred,
Freeze so I can borrow you're coat!

Love till I'm crazy
Dream till I’m hazy
Wait till my dream's in sight
Cross till I sweat it
Pray till I get it
Hope that it turns out alright...

Well, for those of you wondering what prompted this post ... I'm as lost as you are! ( *wink wink Cuddl!*) :-P

2005-02-07T08:56:00.000-08:00

heh heh!

2005-02-07T08:30:00.000-08:00

No wonder they all 'look up' too us!!!!

2005-02-07T08:29:00.000-08:00

Hey all! Can't think of anything to write about nowadays... just staged a play at the NIE playfest "Whilst Bernard Shaw Sleepeth" - we were adjudged the runners up. This is the cast of the play - Mansi, Savi, Ashwini, Roshni, Rai, Rifu and me! at the basketball court and what not!

TPG

2005-01-11T03:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers, Jobless souls, and Fellow bloggers,
This is a story which will both make sorrowful, and captivate your heart. This...is a story about a boy, and a girl, another boy and another girl, make that two boys and four girls in all. They lived happily(?) in the thriving(??) metropolis of Bangalore in the heart of the Deccan plateau in the midst of a beautiful nation, called India. They had their own dreams, their own thoughts, their own ambitions, their own sorrows, their own mistakes, their own rectifying factors used to make good the mistakes, their own friends and their own siblings. They had everything they wanted, and yet one young soul thought something was missing. So she decided to unite these very(VERY!) different personalites by announcing to the boys and girls, the formation of a play group. In which, all the boys and girls would be able to express their own views and make known to the rest, whatever suggestions they may have. But Alas! it was doomed to fail! with one boy falling asleep, the other baring claws, one girl succumbing to great emotion, one girl leaving quietly, another agreeing with all, as well as no one in particular and the last(certainly not the least), absolutely clueless. So after the ill fated first meeting, things went on as usual. Till another member(bless her soul) put forward to the others, the bright idea of the all of them meeting to celebrate the onset of another new year. All consented. But Alas! not unlike the very first meeting, this meeting too was not a success. With one girl falling asleep, another succumbing to great emotion, another quietly doing nothing, another pretty much clueless(like always), one boy baring claws, and the other, well, doing nothing in particular.

So...time goes on. The girl wishes something happens about the entire concept of the play group. And waits, clueless as ever, for the next meeting(if it should ever take place).

2005-01-10T07:45:00.000-08:00

The cast of This Is Where We Came In!

This Is Where We Came In

2005-01-10T07:33:00.000-08:00

This Is Where We Came In - and that's where we left off! The month long rehearsals finally paid off on jan 7th when we staged the play at St. John's. It was quite good except for some technical goof ups but we had a blast!!!!
It's been a reallll great time working on the play with such lovely people! Will miss all of you!!!
It's just great that such opprtunities come our way ... of meeting new people and making new friends.
If only it could all last forever. But this isn't an ideal world. And that's actually the best part. It adds all the more spice to life!!!!!!!
ok... i'll stop here before i get philosophical as "some people" don't seem to like it ... sorry!
Ciao!
Aasimah

Silence

2005-01-08T06:17:00.000-08:00

Silence.
Because no one is home.
Because you're totally numb.
Because everything you've been giving your heart and soul to is suddenly all over.
Because someone to whom you were indespensable suddenly doesn't need you anymore.
Because you have no one to call.
Because you don't want to talk to anyone except that one person.
Because that one person isn't at the other end of the line when you dial the number.
Because it's so dark around you that it's hard to have light inside.
Because something that meant the world to you is starting to drift away.
Because now that it IS starting to drift away it means even more.
Because there's absolutely nothin to look forward to anymore.
Because the most crucial part of the machine is breaking away.
Because the night is so forbiddingly dark that you doubt the very sunrise.
Because life is just so not fair and yet the fairness of it all is crystal clear.
Because everything that mattered now means nothing but yet it leaves that ache behind.
Because. Just because.
Silence.

Crossroads

2005-01-05T22:38:00.000-08:00

Weird. That for one moment everything is perfect and the next ... KABLAAM! That for one instant you're in heaven and the next ... hell. That for one moment you have everything and the next ...

Weird. How chemistry so applies to daily life. The equation must always be balanced. The coming in must be followed by the going out. The flying high must be complemented by the falling low. the giving - the receiving. the ecstasy - the tears. day - night. right - wrong. live - die.

Weird. The choices. right or left. salt or pepper. A or B. stop or go. walk or drive. Two answers to every question. Both completely admissible.
Weird. How one choice can make or break a life ... a heart ... a soul.

Weird. To have to choose between friends. To have to divide your love instead of multiplying it.
Not putting all your eggs in one basket afraid that they'll just end up smashing one another.

Weird. How life can throw you off balance and for a moment just turn your entire world upside down. How every sunrise is taken for granted till you realise it just may be your last.

Weird. That we meet so many people in life, each and every one of them leaving a mark and yet we no longer remember them. That we take even our friends for granted and don't realise it till it's too late.

Weird. That when we are young all we want to do is grow up, but when we grow up we'd give anything just to be young again.

Weird. That everything can go so wrong and yet we believe ... yet we pray ... yet we pull through ... hoping that in the end it will all work out fine.

Weird. How everytime ... it does.

Weird. Don't you think?

2005-01-05T22:21:00.000-08:00

Abhishek and Aasimah - New Year 2005

2005-01-02T23:33:00.000-08:00

Abhi, me, Rifa, Ani, Raash,So and Rai!!!

2005-01-02T23:31:00.000-08:00

2005

2005-01-02T23:28:00.000-08:00

us!

2005-01-02T23:12:00.000-08:00

me!!!

Hola!

2005-01-02T02:07:00.000-08:00

New Years Resolution #361 - start a blog. Well ... i guess the other full circle can go to hell since i guess this'll take up most of my time!!! 2005. Its here. Guess it won't sink in till i actually start writing down dates in the margins...
So... Merry Xmas and Happy New Year everyone!!!!!
Hope that your new year didn't suck as much as mine did...
Aasimah