evil

K is always secretly unhappy and wishes ill of friends who have done better.

especially after using K as a crutch to reach their goals.

PS. this is not something that K wanted to write - what a wonderful way to start the new year - with a reality check inside my mind.

Scarier than Strange

Every Monsoon, I notice that something in this city has drastically changed. And not for good, something that I miss.

Like the previous year, this year too there are no frogs! It's raining but NO FROGS.
No croaking, no mating calls, no springing up along the stairs, no screeches from my maid, no kids diving into a large puddle in the playground to grab the biggest frog, simply no sight of them!

Every year (since more than a decade) some crow couples build their nest in the hibiscus tree, in the courtyard. Over the years, the numbers have diminished. 2008, there was only one who , build its nest really high up in the tree. [my grandpa taught me that when birds expect heavy rain, they build within the closures of the tree; when scanty, closer to the light and the sky. So every year I'd predict if it was going to rain good or not.] This year there isn't a single nest!

There are lesser sparrows flying into the house every morning, and even lesser bitches birthing a litter in the compound.

Something has gone wrong; I have a terrible feeling inside me, something that I can not reverse.

Desensitized

...me.

Being physically unwell - makes me needy, cranky and cold. Being mentally unwell - makes me... let's not bother.

scene: morning, rain, me walking out of Mahim station. a horse.
K (aside): - a horse?. OMG, he's wounded, look at his legs, the blood's oozing out. Where is his owner? I should call SPCA. Is the lady standing there going to be of any help? Why are these people just looking at the horse - idiots. Hey his feet are getting wobbly, is he going to sit. Is he left to die?

What does K do? She walks away. She does not turn around. Nope. Not even once. No voyeuristic pleasurez. Nope.

scene: after reaching the crossing, K turns to look for vehicles that can blow her up. However , the road is empty.
K (aside): Let the horse die. I wish it dies, right now. How cruel could you be? You should call for rescue. How is the hospital going to be? Wet, unclean, dark, dingy, white walls or blue? terracotta or marble tiles? What will they do to him? What if it is in his fate to die lonely - on a humanly crowded, spit over, rainy street?

K enters the office building, follows a woman with long silky hair (whore) and enters the elevator with her. They smile, she reaches her floor, walks in through the glass doors - meets an annoying colleague (sipping lime tea in a large mug that can pass off as a soup bowl), who exclaims that she isn't drenched! (Oh what a wish he has, filthy scoundrel.) Moves to her seat - forgets to wish her colleague 'happy birthday' till his birthday card arrives and then hits WORK ONLY button. She spends her day over her long fulfilled deadlines = wastrel day = headache, terribly written Photokina piece, irritated over the ever-busy-designer and the zero-prompt-boss.

K, in more ways than one, hates herself but pretends that she is still her favorite person.
K is a fool.

Hallucination or lesson?

Since i started my morning yogic breathing, i am observing a detox, however yesterday i ate a vegan sub (not that impure) after my bickering with the wise capitalist. And today morn as i was in mediation, i saw a scary black dog walking towards me- he was large and pitch black, his eyes glistening and for some reason he was angry, very very angry. He walked to me and bit my fore and middle finger that were spread-out on my lap. He bit me with so much force that i was shocked and as a reflex i snatched my hand form his jaw. My eyes were wide open and searching this dog. It took my 30 seconds to get out of that state of shock and realise that i was in my bedroom and on my bed. Something was there- i could sense it. What the fuck had just happened! I had no clue but it was a jerk - like the dog was angry because i was not at peace with myself anymore or something like that.

That bite hasn't gone out of my head- it meant something, i have to find out. Or be patient till it comes to me.

ps. heres the myth of the black dog!

Standing Put

For a couple of days have been down with work and laziness. Since Elightened is here, all i do is spend all the little time i have with him. I like Elightenedgenuinely; we are on the same wavelength, and on a similar plane of wisdom- we bond like there is no tomorrow and although we have been apart for years, it never feels so. Our chats go on late into the night, on topics like cosmic consciousness and music. I wanted him to meet Sunshine and that happened as planned- we met for dinner and parted at an obscene 2 am, time literally flew as we spoke on an array of subjects. I was happy that they liked each other.

The better part was the next day, Christmas was my day to take him out to a popular suburban place. So it would be! I scheduled our itinerary and decided to stay glued, till the wise capitalist called- i was happier as i wanted her to meet Breeze and absorb some of his cool nature! Problem was that she fucked my schedule- her prime suggesting involved her in the center-- so i was okay till i could mould my way back and forth to rearrange it to suit her. So we chucked two plans and head straight as she had to be back for an appointment. At the suburban joint- she came along with the Chameleon, everything was fine till i realised that they were spending unneccessary amount of time there when, we had six other places to go to. As we moved out, it was time for her to go. She couldn't cancel it, so she and chameleon insisted that we tag long and finish her stuff and return. In the freaking B'bay traffic with their stamina, i knew we weren't kming back or doing anything on the schedule. So, I politely asked her to continue with Elightened till i finish my things for the day. That blasted her top with, “what's wrong with u?” when i told her that everything was pending, she in her convenient style blamed it on me. That tipped me off completely. I was willing to forgo my plans after some bickering, but now- No. I stood my ground and as they both chowed on me- i said a firm NO. That is when breeze literally breezed in-- and asked them to not pick on me. Wise capitalist and Chameleon decided to leave and I was comfortable with that. Elightened and I spend the evening together (me bitching away to glory about how this is not the first time and how I have to pose angry or they will walk over me... blah blah shit) and on the way finished one of our chores. The list was satiated and the schedule followed, as we returned home by close to midnight.

An hour after the argument Wise capitalist called to check on us and i gave her full dope on where we were.Later Chameleon called and in his sick sense of humour asked if 'my nerves were back in my body' - sometimes i miss my mad self- i miss slapping people or giving them the needed 'what the fuck r u talking, you moron?' look but i went verbal and he safely said that he would call later.

I wasn't happy about what happened, and in my quintessential Gandhian way i said- “I hate fights- i hate to get pissed. I don't like this anger - making a scene on the road; shit- i simple hate it, Elightened”. Later as i was thinking - i needed to tell myself that i wasn't responsible for their bad decisions and illogical thought at all. I was responsible for my word, for myself and my emotions. There was nothing beyond that; and here i was handing them over the right to make me angry- doing something that was not i at all. So i looked at myself and instantly reviewed how i had fared - i knew i had done well.

love becometh

For my upset, child-like Monarch,

--

brown fell the rain,
into the manholes and the pipes,
it drowned fears and desires
it made muck all around.
it aroused the pleasantries and concerns, it jammed the wireless networks

bodies was soaked and souls drenched, the feet were cold and wrinkled.
the rain flood the streets, the vendors flew.
the rain aroused a hundred emotions when,

it fell on the head, arms and shoulders.
we dripped from our eyes, cried for the water around

--- so much water but our throats sore from crying n shouting,
the water was turning from brown to black
oil, dust dead rats floating.
we walk amongst it-

the force within to cross over, compels our feet to tear away,

to evade the dead, to cease our tears,
our bodies are tired and weak.
tongues dry, stomach churns with hunger sounds
we halt- we give up

and just then
the rain stops.
the water thaws for the land to surface
we halt in peace
we thank the soil.
we sleep a peaceful night

the dawn brings a day of introspection-
the capital clean streets are washed dirty
the muck, filth, the oil,the dead,

decorate the streets that look alien.
they don't really belong to us, do they?
we start to criticize, start to curse
who? why? from where? how?
fingers point, hands fly in fury.
we know that a part of us was pushed beneath the carpet,

into the waters, the gutters--
that filth of mind, motive and soul,
that ingenuity of anger and lust, exploitation and growth
now lays bare- before our naked vision-

torturing us, questing us, demeaning us
Is this what I bred?
is this a part of me-
the child within is upset-
the prize is a fake.
the questions real
the answers unbearable.
our love, aims, beliefs, dreams - conditional
our flaws are washed into bright day light
the sun is shining --

it did rise, didn't halt
it rose for us today.

didn't fear the water, the lightning, the dirt
the sun, asking to see - unmasking us in our streets...
the sun- the unconditional ball of fire

-- that boils but doesn't burn
that spreads light so far that shadows expire
the sun- that sun -- that is what i want.
the cursed mid-day hot balloon that drowns me in sweat
that blinds me if i meet his eye
that wild lover who doesn't favor me- who shines on all
that bulk, who comes for me every single day
and brings me a morning to smile,

to forget that at night it poured and cried --
it dries the hate, the lust, the fears
it leads it to into beauty that will awaken in a smile.
in giving --- and rejecting what is not duly mine.
it gives me light to distinguish and forgive
to love and believe
he is the silent wand of magic
my moron called morning!
love becometh you! And so my lover, it becometh me too.

Series of dissapointments

Starting with not being able to write about Vogue, searching for the right words to describe each piece, feels unnaturally difficult... so does writing for CPC, but i want to be 1000% right with CPC- i have to be flawless and there is no other way it will be!

My beloved clutch is probably travelling in a slow train and therefore taking so long to come back to mommy. I miss you baby. In my agony i forgot that there were enough valuables in there- jeweller's bill, hard cash, my Id and quarterly, my driving licence (not that i drive), my business card, debit cards, my imp numbers diary, my pin number, stash of my passport size photos.... all of that will have to replenished.... clutchy baby come back now!


The train journey was very good, I was determined to have a place to sit and i got one instantly- for a change i was stared at by a chic looking funny woman (she was dressed in light green corporate top, brown checked khadi feeling semi-formal trousers, witch-point, short heel purple sued with satin bow shoes and a big rectangular beige Birkin bag. I was finishing my chanting (she stared at me as i do at women listening to ipod bhajans) and then pulled out my Everyone Worth Knowing copy, the mocking smile on her face clearly called me 'pseudo, hypocritical and shallow' too bad coz i think i am none of those. i almost wanted to explain but i looked up and my left eyebrow twitched out of habit and her smile faded... NO i didn't like the scene. Went back to reading and didn't realise when she got off the train.

Had to write a long letter to Style Icon- i promised him and didn't write (i am ashamed).

Had to collect my solitaire (my birthday gift to myself) but am behaving lackadaisical, dependant and for some reason unsure. I want it, its mine and it brings me infinite joy!

Saw OSO, Sawariyan and Jonny Gaddar and all of them were silly, floppy and total turn offs. They were such a big let down- so many hours of nonsense from intelligent people. Worse, the Rj's aren't being honest - film critics Taran Adarsh and Mayank Shekhar minced words only because the banners are too big. SAY THAT THE FILMS ARE TRASH!

Blatantly lied n bunked dinner on Sunday nigh, coz i am unhappy with the wise capitalist and myself. I said things that i shouldn't have to child mom and for some reason i think WC knows- sure she is pissed and not showing it. So i bunked her dinner party- i didn't want to feed myself and don't like the restaurant she does and am not really fond of the people she invited, esp old idiot. I also made snide remarks at night when Loud mouth gave me full dope on who, what, how, when. I don't like anything about myself when i am in the 'pussy me' mood.

Monday morn, i find out that my DnG face-cover dark glasses r broken at the rim. It felt like a stab, i shrieked, tore my hair and gave multiple bad words in my head before i smiled and mockingly said Perfect, before putting them back. No clue how they cracked (the case is big, sturdy and they never come out of it). Luckily only the frame is damaged, so there go my hard earned thousands (haven't preserved the bill).

Walked into office and realised stuff is undone, have to edit my own article and no clue what to crop.

My HR sent thought for the day- "If you don't like something, change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it."- Mary Engelbreit. Yes, it is helping me recover, but what really gave me the confidence was Diana's tagline - LIFE WANTS ME!-- what a wonderful thing to say!

Wallah! Mawha, mawha, mawha!

Lost and Won

I don't write verse anymore. It's been almost a year now that I wrote something the way I used to. I never rhymed, so that 'freedom' prevails. but i don't scribble anymore... that haunts me.

i don't do a whole lot of things: carry scrap books, kiss in public, drink obscene amounts of papaya juice, stare, smell, just sit (for god's sake), gorge on strawberries, watch movies for 12 hours straight without eating, or save animals from plight, cuddle them. i don't bring home sparrows, kittens, dogs, donkeys, calf, butterflies anymore. i haven't laughed like a lunatic in years, haven't cried over a book so bad (after 'like water for chocolate') that my mom thought i needed help. i haven't argued over something i believed in after Iser.

i had come to understand that the best part of literature was not in poetry or drama or autobiography; it was in literary criticism, in theories about reading and writing. They were like philosophies that applied to physics, economy, math, life, history, fashion, literature... theories that moved u into becoming you. That inspired and impressed it's emblem onto your soul.

Poetry is moving and heavily despotic; pain of sorts stirs every writer. And that melancholy in turn becomes you,"when u play the game long enough, the game takes over and plays you". if u disagree, pick up all the 'movers' in this world, see how they lived and died.

I know i will not end that way. i am not Achilles, who will barter all the happiness in this world for fictional immortality.

N. asked me once why i took lit? I told her coz i wanted to read. honestly I wanted to discover myself by moving into a cocoon of escapism, into the phantasmagoria of burnished realities, of unconnected myths: and find truth between sepia cast, moth smelling pages.

I found my truth in critical theories, clean pages and archetypal mythologies. I found them in multiple forms, in deconstructed syntax and when i embraced them I lost the art of grafting----

grafting Silvya's, Blake's, Wolf's, Albee's, Pinter's, Eliot's emotions with mine.

This gradual disassociation was unconscious; in the process i ended up choosing happiness over everything brutal. Who needs complex reality anyway, when you can create a universe of your own?

Rose

Oh rose thou art sick
(lost therefore interred)
the invisible worm
of existential angst)
that flies through the night
in the glocal streets)
in the howling storm
of capitalist socialism)
has found out thy bed
stained, polluted)
of crimson joy
(indebted in consumerism)
and this dark secret love
(of multiple choices)
will thy life destroy.
(Ta Ta)
For Karma concerned- a steady attrition of the soul follows