You killed it before we walked.
You never gave our quivering feet a chance.
Splatter. It's dead.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
It'll be over before you know
It'll be over before you know.
The night will crawl away and the feelings too.
Will you be able to match eyes with the light?
Will you ever be the same?
What are you searching for?
Your ground will disown you.
Your heart will feel borrowed.
Let us put the pieces together.
Will you cherish the inevitable distortion?
Come along, let us go back again.
Set foot on this journey,
where familiar turns unfamiliar with each day.
Let us be resolute.
Let us start once again.
Who made me unlearn it?
Who made you forget?
Will we ever be the same?
How did we believe in the unending orgasm?
Believe. It'll be over before you know.
The night will crawl away and the feelings too.
Will you be able to match eyes with the light?
Will you ever be the same?
What are you searching for?
Your ground will disown you.
Your heart will feel borrowed.
Let us put the pieces together.
Will you cherish the inevitable distortion?
Come along, let us go back again.
Set foot on this journey,
where familiar turns unfamiliar with each day.
Let us be resolute.
Let us start once again.
Who made me unlearn it?
Who made you forget?
Will we ever be the same?
How did we believe in the unending orgasm?
Believe. It'll be over before you know.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Penetration
Practise doesn't make it easy or any less awful.
Experience only sedates you to the extent that it doesn't feel like you're dying. Anymore.
I still feel shy, peeling off the garb of honour and stripping myself in front of absolute strangers. Standing naked. Stark naked.
It's like letting strangers walk into your home and have them go through your pictures, try on your clothes, raid your fridge or read your letters. And while they are busy encroaching every single square inch of "your" sanctuary, all you can do is pass that photo album to them.
Deep inside it is tearing you down. Ripping each part of your body, one by one in a gruesome fashion.
It doesn't work like the movies. No one ever falls in love with us. No one finds us beautiful longer than the hours paid for. Nobody acknowledges us, nobody spares a stare.
We are living, breathing machines who are everything but human in the view of the world. There is no room for our feelings, our dignity. There is no room for us.
More often than not the make-up on my skin is less meant to attract you and more meant for me to hide. Hide under layers and layers of powder and glitter. It eases the pain, really.
But why should my profession create a crater on my character? I didn't compose the music of my life. I didn't realise when i slipped a word or jumped a note. I don't know what made my song a cacophony. Honestly I really don't remember what happened.
But you must know that everyday I am wishing, hoping to be that girl in your home. The one who went to school, the one who argued for permissions, the one who had friends come over, the one who is allowed to fall in love, the one who still gets scolded, the one who is loved.
I don't need your sympathy, just a bit of accommodation. Some room for people like me who exist for real. Who are not machines, who are not dirty, who are not evil, who are not always confident, not born to be a seductress, who are not meant to feel odd or guilty for existing. You cannot shut your eyes and shy away from the truth.
Make room, make room for me. For whoever has made me like this it doesn't matter, as long as you can move away from the bed and make some room for me in your mind.
Experience only sedates you to the extent that it doesn't feel like you're dying. Anymore.
I still feel shy, peeling off the garb of honour and stripping myself in front of absolute strangers. Standing naked. Stark naked.
It's like letting strangers walk into your home and have them go through your pictures, try on your clothes, raid your fridge or read your letters. And while they are busy encroaching every single square inch of "your" sanctuary, all you can do is pass that photo album to them.
Deep inside it is tearing you down. Ripping each part of your body, one by one in a gruesome fashion.
It doesn't work like the movies. No one ever falls in love with us. No one finds us beautiful longer than the hours paid for. Nobody acknowledges us, nobody spares a stare.
We are living, breathing machines who are everything but human in the view of the world. There is no room for our feelings, our dignity. There is no room for us.
More often than not the make-up on my skin is less meant to attract you and more meant for me to hide. Hide under layers and layers of powder and glitter. It eases the pain, really.
But why should my profession create a crater on my character? I didn't compose the music of my life. I didn't realise when i slipped a word or jumped a note. I don't know what made my song a cacophony. Honestly I really don't remember what happened.
But you must know that everyday I am wishing, hoping to be that girl in your home. The one who went to school, the one who argued for permissions, the one who had friends come over, the one who is allowed to fall in love, the one who still gets scolded, the one who is loved.
I don't need your sympathy, just a bit of accommodation. Some room for people like me who exist for real. Who are not machines, who are not dirty, who are not evil, who are not always confident, not born to be a seductress, who are not meant to feel odd or guilty for existing. You cannot shut your eyes and shy away from the truth.
Make room, make room for me. For whoever has made me like this it doesn't matter, as long as you can move away from the bed and make some room for me in your mind.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tell me darling don't you think of me even once before you go to sleep?
Don't you ever see a glimpse of me when you are really really busy or absolutely free.
Can you hear me whisper in your dreams?
Can you hear me hum and sing?
Don't you laugh at random, thinking about some funny thing i did.
Don't you worry, don't you feel?
Tell me darling do you love me? Even for a second, even if a lie?
Don't you ever see a glimpse of me when you are really really busy or absolutely free.
Can you hear me whisper in your dreams?
Can you hear me hum and sing?
Don't you laugh at random, thinking about some funny thing i did.
Don't you worry, don't you feel?
Tell me darling do you love me? Even for a second, even if a lie?
Thursday, January 28, 2010
'Believe' is a commonly used word. A word full of meaning.
Sometimes I think it drives our lives, keeps us alive.
And sometimes I feel the problem is - we believe.
Believing is an act of escapism. Believing quite conveniently and naturally
transposes all responsibilities on another entity.
It is when we believe that action is held in abeyance.
Belief is a delusion.
It is an act of shying away by leaving things to an indescribable force.
So even when you believe in yourself, you 'other' yourself from the essence of you.
Believing rests upon the dark cloud of doubt.
It is not assertion but consolation.
So if we free our mind from belief, what should really remain?
I don't think it will be lethal. I don't think we'd die.
We have been trained to believe. And trying to unlearn that, is a prospect full of uncertainty.
It is an untraveled territory where the fear of the unknown creeps in.
But belief makes us gullible, it fools us more often than not.
We should try to step off the track and explore life minus belief.
I don't find the thought as blasphemous as it may sound.
We internalize certain things most naturally but what are we humans for if we don't explore beyond what's given to us.
Man without the ability to believe won't make a race of hollow men. It'll make us different.
I borrow this from a feminist critic - It'll not make us 'other' (from what we are now) but 'another'.
Sometimes I think it drives our lives, keeps us alive.
And sometimes I feel the problem is - we believe.
Believing is an act of escapism. Believing quite conveniently and naturally
transposes all responsibilities on another entity.
It is when we believe that action is held in abeyance.
Belief is a delusion.
It is an act of shying away by leaving things to an indescribable force.
So even when you believe in yourself, you 'other' yourself from the essence of you.
Believing rests upon the dark cloud of doubt.
It is not assertion but consolation.
So if we free our mind from belief, what should really remain?
I don't think it will be lethal. I don't think we'd die.
We have been trained to believe. And trying to unlearn that, is a prospect full of uncertainty.
It is an untraveled territory where the fear of the unknown creeps in.
But belief makes us gullible, it fools us more often than not.
We should try to step off the track and explore life minus belief.
I don't find the thought as blasphemous as it may sound.
We internalize certain things most naturally but what are we humans for if we don't explore beyond what's given to us.
Man without the ability to believe won't make a race of hollow men. It'll make us different.
I borrow this from a feminist critic - It'll not make us 'other' (from what we are now) but 'another'.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Lovers, friends, nobody
24 December 2009
(Another Christmas Eve)
HE: Sitting across the same teak table that smelled so new just a year ago. It still smelled of the forest, not akin really, just old.
Another Christmas eve at Tarash's. And a completely new one altogether.
She was there, right there before my eyes, yet I needed to blink and make myself believe she really was.
She was going through their newest photo album. A dark purple book with a bluish tinge (like the colour of hurt) that had pictures of Baby, Tarash and Dina's newborn girl. I was just fiddling with my cell phone, pretending to attend an important business issue.
He had his arm around her and their fingers caressed the breadth of the photo album together. Last year, that arm was mine and Baby was inside Dina's belly. The excitement was something else last time. It was excitement for the last time.
Wait. She smiled. Wow! Last year that smile was mine.
She caught me looking at her. 'Look away', I told myself. Look away, I couldn't.
'Dude! Do you realize, it feels like WHAM wrote that song for you." Tarash whispered in my ears. His sweet little trivia didn't matter, didn't help, didn't change a single little thing.
The doorbell rang, Niha came in. I think I was waiting for her. Her blonde ringlets brushed against her steady collar bones. She was so gorgeous but why wasn't she looking it then.
(Born to german hippies who still preferred Mcleodganj for their abode, Niha lived and worked as a public relations executive in New Delhi. She spoke and abused fluently in hindi while she also made the lead of Haf Daugs, an amateur rock band. Niha got me a lot of attention and envy. She was so perfect, Niha, my girlfriend.)
She pressed her lips against my cheek bones. I put aside my cell phone and smiled.
No she did not look.
'Hi! Kite how've you been? Hey Shivie!' She turned to them.
Hi, there was no room for that hi last year. There was no Niha, no Shivie last year.
(Shivie was Kite's Collegue. The young talented editor of their paper. He was just a mention during the evening drives, a joke while we had dinner, an incident over the phone call, her boyfriend this Christmas eve. He sat there, right across the table, right across the tip of that natural crack running down the spine of Tarash and Dina's teak dinning table.)
Dinner was served, presents opened, good wine drowned, songs were sung and I looked at her. Her fingers brushed off the bits of hair like Christmas tree leaves that rested on his navy pull over. I looked at her. She noticed.
'Look away' I thought. Look away I couldn't.
She was Kite, wonderful Kite, vivacious Kite, KT for many, little Kittie for me and then she was Kite, just Kite, this Christmas eve. She had the same fragrance but I didn't know it anymore. The same girl, not mine anymore. Enough.
I looked at the giant grandfather clock resting around the corner. It was late. Very late.
'Time to go', I told myself.
'Coming?' I asked, looking at Niha. She was distracted from her play with Baby. She paused and came over to me. She smiled comfortingly as her slender arm slipped right through mine.
'Bye', Everyone said. And then another 'bye' followed alone. There was a familiar ring in that word. This one I knew. I turned around to look.
'Look away', I said to myself.
'Bye. Merry Christmas.' Look away I did.
(Another Christmas Eve)
HE: Sitting across the same teak table that smelled so new just a year ago. It still smelled of the forest, not akin really, just old.
Another Christmas eve at Tarash's. And a completely new one altogether.
She was there, right there before my eyes, yet I needed to blink and make myself believe she really was.
She was going through their newest photo album. A dark purple book with a bluish tinge (like the colour of hurt) that had pictures of Baby, Tarash and Dina's newborn girl. I was just fiddling with my cell phone, pretending to attend an important business issue.
He had his arm around her and their fingers caressed the breadth of the photo album together. Last year, that arm was mine and Baby was inside Dina's belly. The excitement was something else last time. It was excitement for the last time.
Wait. She smiled. Wow! Last year that smile was mine.
She caught me looking at her. 'Look away', I told myself. Look away, I couldn't.
'Dude! Do you realize, it feels like WHAM wrote that song for you." Tarash whispered in my ears. His sweet little trivia didn't matter, didn't help, didn't change a single little thing.
The doorbell rang, Niha came in. I think I was waiting for her. Her blonde ringlets brushed against her steady collar bones. She was so gorgeous but why wasn't she looking it then.
(Born to german hippies who still preferred Mcleodganj for their abode, Niha lived and worked as a public relations executive in New Delhi. She spoke and abused fluently in hindi while she also made the lead of Haf Daugs, an amateur rock band. Niha got me a lot of attention and envy. She was so perfect, Niha, my girlfriend.)
She pressed her lips against my cheek bones. I put aside my cell phone and smiled.
No she did not look.
'Hi! Kite how've you been? Hey Shivie!' She turned to them.
Hi, there was no room for that hi last year. There was no Niha, no Shivie last year.
(Shivie was Kite's Collegue. The young talented editor of their paper. He was just a mention during the evening drives, a joke while we had dinner, an incident over the phone call, her boyfriend this Christmas eve. He sat there, right across the table, right across the tip of that natural crack running down the spine of Tarash and Dina's teak dinning table.)
Dinner was served, presents opened, good wine drowned, songs were sung and I looked at her. Her fingers brushed off the bits of hair like Christmas tree leaves that rested on his navy pull over. I looked at her. She noticed.
'Look away' I thought. Look away I couldn't.
She was Kite, wonderful Kite, vivacious Kite, KT for many, little Kittie for me and then she was Kite, just Kite, this Christmas eve. She had the same fragrance but I didn't know it anymore. The same girl, not mine anymore. Enough.
I looked at the giant grandfather clock resting around the corner. It was late. Very late.
'Time to go', I told myself.
'Coming?' I asked, looking at Niha. She was distracted from her play with Baby. She paused and came over to me. She smiled comfortingly as her slender arm slipped right through mine.
'Bye', Everyone said. And then another 'bye' followed alone. There was a familiar ring in that word. This one I knew. I turned around to look.
'Look away', I said to myself.
'Bye. Merry Christmas.' Look away I did.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Hot Doug fantasy
Times are such that one leaves for work early in the day and returns late in the evening. That makes 6-7 hours of sleep and just about 2 or maximum three hours for reading or television. Not to mention the quick dinner or whatever you may call it in the middle.
Well, I aint no banker, engineer or some serious analyst but my work, mainly concerned with my frugal writing skills, keeps me at work for a considerable amount of time. When I return home, I watch a little bit of television while I eat. Last night I managed to catch a fairly interesting show on Travel & Living. It was a special show on, Hot Dogs sold across America.
So we stop at "Hot Doug's", an eatery in Chicago that subheads its rather connotative restaurant name with, "Sausage Superstore." Now this guy has been in business for God knows how years and there was all that history-geography of Doug's being rambled on for sometime. However what caught my notice was the menu. A wide variety of Hot Dogs, fresh-cut french fries and fountain soda feature the list. What is interesting though is that Mr. Doug likes to name his Hot Dogs after his favourite celebrities. So there is, The Elvis: Polish sausage - smoked and savoury just like the king at 2.50$, Keira Knighty (Formerly Jennifer Garner and Britney Spears): Fire dog - Mighty hot! at the same and Salma Hayek (formerly the Madonna, Raquel Welch and Ann Margaret): Andouille sausage - mighty, mighty, mighty hot! at a whopping 4$
Wow! What would you say to that? Well, our man Doug says, "He adores these lovely ladies."
Just imagine if Kiera Knightly was ever to visit Hot Doug's what would she say.
"I'd like a Keira Knightly, mighty hot or wait a minute.....(chew her lips, make tiny eyes) I think I'll have Salma Hayek - mighty, mighty, mighty hot. Er, excuse me does it come along with her delicious accent and luscious breasts?"
What if Madonna threw her leather clad legs up on the table, tilted her sombrero, pointed the 6 inch pencil heels at the menu and said, "Hey Doug, bring me Elvis' wiener, real hot and smoky! And throw some extra chilli will ya." Yikes!
Then Ann Margaret walks in, looks straight into Doug's eyes and says, "Don't go by the years sonny boy. Bring me the hottest. A Salma Hayek. Whopsie, that still would have been me had you ever learnt to spell c.l.a.s.s.i.c."
Ah well catching Mr. Doug's expression at that moment would be priceless.
In India, sausages are still commonly seen as firangi food and the only variety we get here is, "Madam, isspicy or plain?" But I strongly believe we too should have a sausage superstore like Doug's. With or without the celebrity names it don't matter. Though with the celebrity names it would be a lot more interesting.
Imagine a perfect Sunday afternoon in the spring time, just before summer kicks in, you walk in to our desi sausage superstore and ask for, ummm, lets say, "The Shahrukh - pure ham and cooked to perfection."
Or "The Bipasha Basu (Formerly Zeenat Aman and Rekha) - Mighty, mighty, mighty maal!
Or "The Kareena Kapoor for the novice dieters - Low fat, plain shit.
Or The BIG B - to satisfy your tall desires. (If at all you go by the paradigm - tall man, big feet, big...)
I swear to God I shall spend all weekends right there, ordering every Bipasha Basu that leaves the kitchen and amuse myself with the never-really-big-enough Big Bs.
At the end of the day, I give full credit to Mr. Doug for romanticising the oddly shaped things called sausages the way he has. I truly believe him when he says, "People find it hard to chose between children. I say that's easy but choosing between hot dogs...I don't know." I can see the glint of conviction in his eyes, just like the shine of pork fat on the fried sausages.
Well the celebrities may sure be used to fragrances, orchids and clothing lines being named after them but I don't know how kiera knightly, Salma Hayek, Kareena Kapoor or Shahrukh Khan would react to having their names immortalized by hot dogs at some eatery. Though had it been me in their place, I would certainly be overjoyed, thrilled and felt many notches cooler, with the honour bestowed upon me. I would go over to Doug's all the time, flash my brightest smile and say, "Hey Doug! Gimme a Sushmita: a lot too hot with a chilled bottle of beer."
Well, I aint no banker, engineer or some serious analyst but my work, mainly concerned with my frugal writing skills, keeps me at work for a considerable amount of time. When I return home, I watch a little bit of television while I eat. Last night I managed to catch a fairly interesting show on Travel & Living. It was a special show on, Hot Dogs sold across America.
So we stop at "Hot Doug's", an eatery in Chicago that subheads its rather connotative restaurant name with, "Sausage Superstore." Now this guy has been in business for God knows how years and there was all that history-geography of Doug's being rambled on for sometime. However what caught my notice was the menu. A wide variety of Hot Dogs, fresh-cut french fries and fountain soda feature the list. What is interesting though is that Mr. Doug likes to name his Hot Dogs after his favourite celebrities. So there is, The Elvis: Polish sausage - smoked and savoury just like the king at 2.50$, Keira Knighty (Formerly Jennifer Garner and Britney Spears): Fire dog - Mighty hot! at the same and Salma Hayek (formerly the Madonna, Raquel Welch and Ann Margaret): Andouille sausage - mighty, mighty, mighty hot! at a whopping 4$
Wow! What would you say to that? Well, our man Doug says, "He adores these lovely ladies."
Just imagine if Kiera Knightly was ever to visit Hot Doug's what would she say.
"I'd like a Keira Knightly, mighty hot or wait a minute.....(chew her lips, make tiny eyes) I think I'll have Salma Hayek - mighty, mighty, mighty hot. Er, excuse me does it come along with her delicious accent and luscious breasts?"
What if Madonna threw her leather clad legs up on the table, tilted her sombrero, pointed the 6 inch pencil heels at the menu and said, "Hey Doug, bring me Elvis' wiener, real hot and smoky! And throw some extra chilli will ya." Yikes!
Then Ann Margaret walks in, looks straight into Doug's eyes and says, "Don't go by the years sonny boy. Bring me the hottest. A Salma Hayek. Whopsie, that still would have been me had you ever learnt to spell c.l.a.s.s.i.c."
Ah well catching Mr. Doug's expression at that moment would be priceless.
In India, sausages are still commonly seen as firangi food and the only variety we get here is, "Madam, isspicy or plain?" But I strongly believe we too should have a sausage superstore like Doug's. With or without the celebrity names it don't matter. Though with the celebrity names it would be a lot more interesting.
Imagine a perfect Sunday afternoon in the spring time, just before summer kicks in, you walk in to our desi sausage superstore and ask for, ummm, lets say, "The Shahrukh - pure ham and cooked to perfection."
Or "The Bipasha Basu (Formerly Zeenat Aman and Rekha) - Mighty, mighty, mighty maal!
Or "The Kareena Kapoor for the novice dieters - Low fat, plain shit.
Or The BIG B - to satisfy your tall desires. (If at all you go by the paradigm - tall man, big feet, big...)
I swear to God I shall spend all weekends right there, ordering every Bipasha Basu that leaves the kitchen and amuse myself with the never-really-big-enough Big Bs.
At the end of the day, I give full credit to Mr. Doug for romanticising the oddly shaped things called sausages the way he has. I truly believe him when he says, "People find it hard to chose between children. I say that's easy but choosing between hot dogs...I don't know." I can see the glint of conviction in his eyes, just like the shine of pork fat on the fried sausages.
Well the celebrities may sure be used to fragrances, orchids and clothing lines being named after them but I don't know how kiera knightly, Salma Hayek, Kareena Kapoor or Shahrukh Khan would react to having their names immortalized by hot dogs at some eatery. Though had it been me in their place, I would certainly be overjoyed, thrilled and felt many notches cooler, with the honour bestowed upon me. I would go over to Doug's all the time, flash my brightest smile and say, "Hey Doug! Gimme a Sushmita: a lot too hot with a chilled bottle of beer."
Monday, July 06, 2009
Stollen stuff, merely for the lack of anthing better to do...
Ok so this is something I stole from another friend's blog. It's a series of rapid fire questions and they seem fun enough. Plus I have nothing better to do. So, here goes...
1. Last beverage? A bottle of Coke
2. Last phone call? Arnab Sen, 10 am, we fought over his facebook status msg :)
3. Last text message? Was last night, to Arnab Sen, about life and stuff.
4. Last song you listened to? Mr. Bojangles by Dylan
5. Last time you cried? Friday, secretly, because I made my first copy error and the Ad was up
on TOI.
HAVE YOU EVER:
6. Dated someone twice ? Nope
7. Been cheated on? Nope
8. Kissed someone & regretted it? Why, really? No.
9. Been depressed? Ummm...mildly yes.
10. Been drunk? Haha...totally. Last in Mcleodganj and it was all good.
11. LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS: Green, Black and Red
THIS PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
12. Made new friends ? Sure
13. Fallen out of love? No
14. Laughed until you cried? Never
15. Met someone who changed you? Well, everyone important in my life tends to have some contribution to who I am. No one specific though.
16. Found out who your true friends were? Well as long as there's Arnab... :)
17. Found out someone was talking about you? Totally. So many times. Unavoidable isn't it.
18. Kissed a friend? Sure. All the time.
TRUTH:
19. How many kids do you want to have? Wow! I think one is good.
20. Do you have any pets ? Yes, fishes - 2 Black tetras called Telemachus, Telemachus
2 Sharpe tetra called Mirinda, Mirinda and 1 Buenos aires tetra called Achilles
They are gorgeous and I love 'em.
21. Do you want to change your name? Not at all. I love my name.
22. What did you do for your last birthday? I had chicken pox so I sulked and suffered but my awesome friends came over and made my day. Thanks Hakuhodo II and Arnab.
23. What time did you wake up today? 7:30 am to get ready for office. Urgh!
24. What were you doing at midnight last night? I was playing Galaxy Balls on my phone :)
25. Name something you CANNOT wait for ? A holiday with Sen.
26. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life? Nothing really...I am thankful for what I have.
27. What are you listening to right now ? Chan Chan - Buena Vista Social Club
28. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom ? If you consider vocal involvement during a Tom and Jerry show as talking to a Tom then yes.
29. What's getting on your nerves right now? The intern guy next to me who is sitting annoyingly in a sixty degree angle and intruding into my work station.
30. Whats your real name ? Sushmita
31. Hair color ? Screwed up black....thank you Noida water!
32. Long or short ? Longish
33. Height ? 5''2 1/2 Hahaha...the half is funny but I insist on having it mentioned.
34. Do you have a crush on someone? Right now? No
35. What do you like about yourself? I have an innate connect with dreams and i love it. I am also a little scared of it.
36. Piercings? Ears and nose
37. Tattoos? None as of now, though I think I'd like one.
38. Righty or lefty? Aw-righty baby!
FIRSTS :
39. First surgery? If ripping out precious ivory is surgery then I had mine when I was very little. 6-7 I guess.
40. First piercing? Ears, when I was 6 from a parlour called Bluemax in Calcutta
41. First best friend? Best friend...has to be Arijit aka Guddu...my partner in crime :)
42. First sport you joined? Roller Skating
43. First pet? My fishes...on my 23rd birthday, by Chintu Dahlin ;)
44. First vacation? To Calcutta at my Grandmother's place. It was a yearly ritual.
45. First concert? Was in school...I think I was in 12th. It was a rock concert by bands from various schools in Delhi.
46. First crush? Yikes! Ummm...never mind.
47. First alcohol drink? As bizarre as it may sound, it was a tequila shot on Kriti's 18th B'day.
RIGHT NOW:
48. Eating: Right now, longing for the finished Mc Vitties.
49. Drinking: Water
50. I'm about to: Get onto some real work.
51. Listening to? Supriya is playing Twist and I am almost breaking into a naagin dance.
52. Waiting for? The eve, to get together with Arnab.
YOUR FUTURE :
53. Want kids? Sure
54. Want to get married? Yes
55. Careers in mind? Advertising/Writing/ Film making
WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE SEX OF YOUR CHOOSING?
56. Lips or eyes? Eyes primarily, but lips follow.
57. Hugs or kisses? Kisses and hugs...Both
58. Shorter or taller? Totally taller
59. Older or Younger? Either way it doesn't matter.
60. Romantic or spontaneous? Spontaneous.
74. Nice stomach or nice arms? Ummm...Nice stomach, totally.
61. Tattoos or piercings? Tattoos.
62. Sensitive or loud? Whatever. Too much of both is annoying.
63. Hook-up or relationship? Depends really on many things.
64. Trouble maker or hesitant? Trouble maker...haha!
HAVE YOU EVER :
65. Kissed a stranger? No.
66. Drank hard liquor? Sure.
67. Lost glasses/contacts? I have perfect eyesight :)
68. Sex on first date? No.
69. Broken someone's heart? Yes. Which is not fun but sometimes you have to do what you need to do.
70. Had your own heart broken? Haha...ridiculous but yes.
71. Been arrested? Oh Gawd! NO.
72. Turned someone down? Many times.
73. Liked a friend that is a girl? Yes and most people know about it.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
74. Yourself? Completely. Otherwise I would never get ahead in life. I trust me :)
75. Miracles? Happen. I believe...
76. Love at first sight? No. Attraction, yes.
77. Heaven? In the hardcore sense? Still confused actually. But somewhere I've been hegemonized to believe in it.
78. Santa Claus? Somewhere :)
79. Kissing on the first date? Depends...no big deal actually.
80. Angels? Haha...umm maybe.
ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:
81. Is there one person you want to be with right now? Yes.
82. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time? No.
83. Do you believe its possible to remain faithful forever? It's all in the mind. So if you are truly determined on making a relationship work then yes.
84. What's the one thing you cannot live without? My parents. I love them to bits.
85. Who's the most awesome kid ever? My niece, gorgeous miss Nayantara.
1. Last beverage? A bottle of Coke
2. Last phone call? Arnab Sen, 10 am, we fought over his facebook status msg :)
3. Last text message? Was last night, to Arnab Sen, about life and stuff.
4. Last song you listened to? Mr. Bojangles by Dylan
5. Last time you cried? Friday, secretly, because I made my first copy error and the Ad was up
on TOI.
HAVE YOU EVER:
6. Dated someone twice ? Nope
7. Been cheated on? Nope
8. Kissed someone & regretted it? Why, really? No.
9. Been depressed? Ummm...mildly yes.
10. Been drunk? Haha...totally. Last in Mcleodganj and it was all good.
11. LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS: Green, Black and Red
THIS PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
12. Made new friends ? Sure
13. Fallen out of love? No
14. Laughed until you cried? Never
15. Met someone who changed you? Well, everyone important in my life tends to have some contribution to who I am. No one specific though.
16. Found out who your true friends were? Well as long as there's Arnab... :)
17. Found out someone was talking about you? Totally. So many times. Unavoidable isn't it.
18. Kissed a friend? Sure. All the time.
TRUTH:
19. How many kids do you want to have? Wow! I think one is good.
20. Do you have any pets ? Yes, fishes - 2 Black tetras called Telemachus, Telemachus
2 Sharpe tetra called Mirinda, Mirinda and 1 Buenos aires tetra called Achilles
They are gorgeous and I love 'em.
21. Do you want to change your name? Not at all. I love my name.
22. What did you do for your last birthday? I had chicken pox so I sulked and suffered but my awesome friends came over and made my day. Thanks Hakuhodo II and Arnab.
23. What time did you wake up today? 7:30 am to get ready for office. Urgh!
24. What were you doing at midnight last night? I was playing Galaxy Balls on my phone :)
25. Name something you CANNOT wait for ? A holiday with Sen.
26. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life? Nothing really...I am thankful for what I have.
27. What are you listening to right now ? Chan Chan - Buena Vista Social Club
28. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom ? If you consider vocal involvement during a Tom and Jerry show as talking to a Tom then yes.
29. What's getting on your nerves right now? The intern guy next to me who is sitting annoyingly in a sixty degree angle and intruding into my work station.
30. Whats your real name ? Sushmita
31. Hair color ? Screwed up black....thank you Noida water!
32. Long or short ? Longish
33. Height ? 5''2 1/2 Hahaha...the half is funny but I insist on having it mentioned.
34. Do you have a crush on someone? Right now? No
35. What do you like about yourself? I have an innate connect with dreams and i love it. I am also a little scared of it.
36. Piercings? Ears and nose
37. Tattoos? None as of now, though I think I'd like one.
38. Righty or lefty? Aw-righty baby!
FIRSTS :
39. First surgery? If ripping out precious ivory is surgery then I had mine when I was very little. 6-7 I guess.
40. First piercing? Ears, when I was 6 from a parlour called Bluemax in Calcutta
41. First best friend? Best friend...has to be Arijit aka Guddu...my partner in crime :)
42. First sport you joined? Roller Skating
43. First pet? My fishes...on my 23rd birthday, by Chintu Dahlin ;)
44. First vacation? To Calcutta at my Grandmother's place. It was a yearly ritual.
45. First concert? Was in school...I think I was in 12th. It was a rock concert by bands from various schools in Delhi.
46. First crush? Yikes! Ummm...never mind.
47. First alcohol drink? As bizarre as it may sound, it was a tequila shot on Kriti's 18th B'day.
RIGHT NOW:
48. Eating: Right now, longing for the finished Mc Vitties.
49. Drinking: Water
50. I'm about to: Get onto some real work.
51. Listening to? Supriya is playing Twist and I am almost breaking into a naagin dance.
52. Waiting for? The eve, to get together with Arnab.
YOUR FUTURE :
53. Want kids? Sure
54. Want to get married? Yes
55. Careers in mind? Advertising/Writing/ Film making
WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE SEX OF YOUR CHOOSING?
56. Lips or eyes? Eyes primarily, but lips follow.
57. Hugs or kisses? Kisses and hugs...Both
58. Shorter or taller? Totally taller
59. Older or Younger? Either way it doesn't matter.
60. Romantic or spontaneous? Spontaneous.
74. Nice stomach or nice arms? Ummm...Nice stomach, totally.
61. Tattoos or piercings? Tattoos.
62. Sensitive or loud? Whatever. Too much of both is annoying.
63. Hook-up or relationship? Depends really on many things.
64. Trouble maker or hesitant? Trouble maker...haha!
HAVE YOU EVER :
65. Kissed a stranger? No.
66. Drank hard liquor? Sure.
67. Lost glasses/contacts? I have perfect eyesight :)
68. Sex on first date? No.
69. Broken someone's heart? Yes. Which is not fun but sometimes you have to do what you need to do.
70. Had your own heart broken? Haha...ridiculous but yes.
71. Been arrested? Oh Gawd! NO.
72. Turned someone down? Many times.
73. Liked a friend that is a girl? Yes and most people know about it.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
74. Yourself? Completely. Otherwise I would never get ahead in life. I trust me :)
75. Miracles? Happen. I believe...
76. Love at first sight? No. Attraction, yes.
77. Heaven? In the hardcore sense? Still confused actually. But somewhere I've been hegemonized to believe in it.
78. Santa Claus? Somewhere :)
79. Kissing on the first date? Depends...no big deal actually.
80. Angels? Haha...umm maybe.
ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:
81. Is there one person you want to be with right now? Yes.
82. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time? No.
83. Do you believe its possible to remain faithful forever? It's all in the mind. So if you are truly determined on making a relationship work then yes.
84. What's the one thing you cannot live without? My parents. I love them to bits.
85. Who's the most awesome kid ever? My niece, gorgeous miss Nayantara.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
"For heaven sake, stop wearing those navel flaunting clothes of yours." Barked Faima.
"Mom, this is the last thing I need before I leave home. Don't push me to get back at you. For all you know, this time around I may not come home at all."
That was enough for Faima to snap right back and for a few seconds she believed she didn't care.
"Get out! Right now. Out! and never show me your face again."
She didn't realize, she was the one who was getting pushed against the wall and made to do something she least desired.
Maneca stormed out, part happy, part astonished.
Faima was left crying, howling, but no one heard her. Not even her son. Her very own Maahid, the apple of her eye, the true reflection of her noble dead husband. The only one she had to love and to live with. He too was barely present, especially after the new wife.
Maahid and Faima were very close. Their hearts were connected to each other. They thought in one breath and lived under the same light. Maahid was different. He was much nicer once. Faima thought to herself. Those were the days when he loved that girl, that girl who always talked so sweetly and listened so alertly. That girl who took Faima as the center of the universe, Maahid, her moon and she was a celestial nymph. Oh! How wonderful it would have been, had Maahid married her. But she, she never spoke her mind and got packed off to neverland. And Maahid never proposed because Faima thought it was too soon. Faima remembered those days when Maahid was nursing a broken heart with whisky and marijuana. In no time did he find Pia. Pia, the girl who took over Maahid like he was possessed. Pia, who was like a Goddess, like fire, like magic. The woman who had lost her eyesight in a tragic accident when she was four and since then her other senses were hightened like nobody can imagine. So Maahid completely believed that sex with a blind woman would be like a dream and he must have gotten there very soon because ever since they got married, they hardly ever left the bed. The moaning and the panting was agonizing for Faima. They just wouldn't stop. Maneca was gone and it had been three whole days Maahid hadn't said a single word to his mother.
"Mom, this is the last thing I need before I leave home. Don't push me to get back at you. For all you know, this time around I may not come home at all."
That was enough for Faima to snap right back and for a few seconds she believed she didn't care.
"Get out! Right now. Out! and never show me your face again."
She didn't realize, she was the one who was getting pushed against the wall and made to do something she least desired.
Maneca stormed out, part happy, part astonished.
Faima was left crying, howling, but no one heard her. Not even her son. Her very own Maahid, the apple of her eye, the true reflection of her noble dead husband. The only one she had to love and to live with. He too was barely present, especially after the new wife.
Maahid and Faima were very close. Their hearts were connected to each other. They thought in one breath and lived under the same light. Maahid was different. He was much nicer once. Faima thought to herself. Those were the days when he loved that girl, that girl who always talked so sweetly and listened so alertly. That girl who took Faima as the center of the universe, Maahid, her moon and she was a celestial nymph. Oh! How wonderful it would have been, had Maahid married her. But she, she never spoke her mind and got packed off to neverland. And Maahid never proposed because Faima thought it was too soon. Faima remembered those days when Maahid was nursing a broken heart with whisky and marijuana. In no time did he find Pia. Pia, the girl who took over Maahid like he was possessed. Pia, who was like a Goddess, like fire, like magic. The woman who had lost her eyesight in a tragic accident when she was four and since then her other senses were hightened like nobody can imagine. So Maahid completely believed that sex with a blind woman would be like a dream and he must have gotten there very soon because ever since they got married, they hardly ever left the bed. The moaning and the panting was agonizing for Faima. They just wouldn't stop. Maneca was gone and it had been three whole days Maahid hadn't said a single word to his mother.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The most remarkable people
I have never written about the people in my life. Only metaphorically maybe.
There are some people that come into our lives and change/affect it forever. And i mean it in a good way. So here are a few of those remarkable people who hold a significant post in my journey so far.
I must begin with the most interesting one of course. She is my friend from college a real eccentric creative, she is Tanvi Srivastava. Medusa like hair (but very gorgeous if you look closely) and the most endearing smile ever. We didn't start out as friends, she always seemed someone who was too uncaring at first. There was a mega drama about her becoming close friends with my closest friend that time. But it all worked out for the best. I can't recall when Tanvi and I became good friends but when it comes to her I love love love her completely. She is so full of ideas and best of all she is always out there executing them. Exceptionally creative, enthusiastic, massively intelligent, bizarre and fun! There are a ton of things that I'd like to write/say about "Tanno d" but just for the heck of keeping it short let me sum it up by saying that if I have a daughter I'd most definitely like her to grow up to be like Tanvi. I love u tanno d, you're awesome.....:)
Arijit Sengupta - My first real boss ever. It all started out with sitting on his seat and staring at his picture for a good long week, being judgemental and then finally meeting the "boss". I would say, may God bless every trainee with such a wonderful boss. He is a tough taskmaster sometimes but the ocean of talent and creativity in him is always awe inspiring. They say that if you think you are rich then look around and you'll know there is someone richer. Well when it comes to Arijit aka Furry I'd say just the same. If you think you are smart, hello...meet Arjit! In terms of creativity he is nonpareil and his work is seriously motivational. Not just that, he is an exceptionally nice guy and I think there is so much to learn from him. I miss you Furry, in office but I am super glad we became friends and I treasure you immensely.
How can I forget you Mr. Arjun k Puri, my bestest friend from school and probably the only bestest friend i ever had. Hmmm....our amusing story stands aside all of this, but the truth still remains that you have left a mark in my life and I fondly hold you close to me as the nicest person I've known, brilliant writer, determined and the most amazing friend ever. You deserve your fancy HSBC job, i am super proud. Love ya lots.
Mayank Gupta, for proving it that if you chase your dreams with great conviction you can make 'em come true. I hold you as my role model and completely hail before the great one. You know you are awesome!
Ms. HI or Hepzibah Israel....you probably don't even remember/know me but your lectures on Jane Eyre/Mill on the Floss/Orientalism has much more to do than just that. You are an emblem of a strong modern Indian woman. You were scary and bitchy at times but still....you are quite unforgettable.
Ha...finally! Last but completely top most in my life, Arnab Sen, my partner in crime, my soul mate. You were the college Casanova, the Bitch, the crazy competitive one but I always knew that the antithesis of all this is your significant other. When I think "Buddy", there's no one other than you I can really think of. We fight over smokes, we talk like there is a "topic diarrea", we sing like we are insane and bitch like there's no tomorrow. We are like two pirates (where i am the cool one). You are a great guy, very rare specimen of niceness still existing on earth. You make me hopeful. I think you are a promising journalist and a true intellectual. You are talented, determined, passionate, strong and supremely goofy! But best of all there's no one who can care about not just me but all their loved ones the way you do. Strange thing to say, but I love your complexion, makes you very ummm...haha..hot! Yeah I know there are a ton of women swooning over you and I think it's great cause those women have made one helluva choice! You know i love you like crazy. Stay mad always :)
There are some people that come into our lives and change/affect it forever. And i mean it in a good way. So here are a few of those remarkable people who hold a significant post in my journey so far.
I must begin with the most interesting one of course. She is my friend from college a real eccentric creative, she is Tanvi Srivastava. Medusa like hair (but very gorgeous if you look closely) and the most endearing smile ever. We didn't start out as friends, she always seemed someone who was too uncaring at first. There was a mega drama about her becoming close friends with my closest friend that time. But it all worked out for the best. I can't recall when Tanvi and I became good friends but when it comes to her I love love love her completely. She is so full of ideas and best of all she is always out there executing them. Exceptionally creative, enthusiastic, massively intelligent, bizarre and fun! There are a ton of things that I'd like to write/say about "Tanno d" but just for the heck of keeping it short let me sum it up by saying that if I have a daughter I'd most definitely like her to grow up to be like Tanvi. I love u tanno d, you're awesome.....:)
Arijit Sengupta - My first real boss ever. It all started out with sitting on his seat and staring at his picture for a good long week, being judgemental and then finally meeting the "boss". I would say, may God bless every trainee with such a wonderful boss. He is a tough taskmaster sometimes but the ocean of talent and creativity in him is always awe inspiring. They say that if you think you are rich then look around and you'll know there is someone richer. Well when it comes to Arijit aka Furry I'd say just the same. If you think you are smart, hello...meet Arjit! In terms of creativity he is nonpareil and his work is seriously motivational. Not just that, he is an exceptionally nice guy and I think there is so much to learn from him. I miss you Furry, in office but I am super glad we became friends and I treasure you immensely.
How can I forget you Mr. Arjun k Puri, my bestest friend from school and probably the only bestest friend i ever had. Hmmm....our amusing story stands aside all of this, but the truth still remains that you have left a mark in my life and I fondly hold you close to me as the nicest person I've known, brilliant writer, determined and the most amazing friend ever. You deserve your fancy HSBC job, i am super proud. Love ya lots.
Mayank Gupta, for proving it that if you chase your dreams with great conviction you can make 'em come true. I hold you as my role model and completely hail before the great one. You know you are awesome!
Ms. HI or Hepzibah Israel....you probably don't even remember/know me but your lectures on Jane Eyre/Mill on the Floss/Orientalism has much more to do than just that. You are an emblem of a strong modern Indian woman. You were scary and bitchy at times but still....you are quite unforgettable.
Ha...finally! Last but completely top most in my life, Arnab Sen, my partner in crime, my soul mate. You were the college Casanova, the Bitch, the crazy competitive one but I always knew that the antithesis of all this is your significant other. When I think "Buddy", there's no one other than you I can really think of. We fight over smokes, we talk like there is a "topic diarrea", we sing like we are insane and bitch like there's no tomorrow. We are like two pirates (where i am the cool one). You are a great guy, very rare specimen of niceness still existing on earth. You make me hopeful. I think you are a promising journalist and a true intellectual. You are talented, determined, passionate, strong and supremely goofy! But best of all there's no one who can care about not just me but all their loved ones the way you do. Strange thing to say, but I love your complexion, makes you very ummm...haha..hot! Yeah I know there are a ton of women swooning over you and I think it's great cause those women have made one helluva choice! You know i love you like crazy. Stay mad always :)
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Coming Home
Long years make memories dizzy. But they still exit.
Living in a completely different world and then coming back to where you started.
Not much of a big deal actually, people do it all the time (Without realizing the finer nuances).
Anticipation is what kills you. Anticipation not just about others, but about yourself.
Let my shoulders bear the weight of those two boys again. A feeling quite forgotten, just images remain. I can try and take myself back to that very moment, but just images remain.
The warmth of her fingers against my neck when we embrace in a thoughtless moment. The sweet taste of her mouth, that zing of the celestial currents bestowed on her lips. That very moment, that exact second, the very point when she bats her luscious lashes, and the anticipation of living it again.
All this and the fear of having lost it all. Coming home is hard, similar to your first sexual intercourse, but certainly harder. The good thing is, in "real life" the slow mo option has been already unchecked and before you know, you've arrived.
Living in a completely different world and then coming back to where you started.
Not much of a big deal actually, people do it all the time (Without realizing the finer nuances).
Anticipation is what kills you. Anticipation not just about others, but about yourself.
Let my shoulders bear the weight of those two boys again. A feeling quite forgotten, just images remain. I can try and take myself back to that very moment, but just images remain.
The warmth of her fingers against my neck when we embrace in a thoughtless moment. The sweet taste of her mouth, that zing of the celestial currents bestowed on her lips. That very moment, that exact second, the very point when she bats her luscious lashes, and the anticipation of living it again.
All this and the fear of having lost it all. Coming home is hard, similar to your first sexual intercourse, but certainly harder. The good thing is, in "real life" the slow mo option has been already unchecked and before you know, you've arrived.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Be alive while you are alive.
Don't mourn your death before you've died.
Love will come and love will go,
don't kill it through its drive.
Be alive while you are alive.
Every breath is a treat
every whimper, worth another try.
When you are cold or even if a hundred years old,
Thank god that you still thrive.
One eared, one legged or even if heartbroken,
be alive while you are alive.
Don't mourn your death before you've died.
Don't mourn your death before you've died.
Love will come and love will go,
don't kill it through its drive.
Be alive while you are alive.
Every breath is a treat
every whimper, worth another try.
When you are cold or even if a hundred years old,
Thank god that you still thrive.
One eared, one legged or even if heartbroken,
be alive while you are alive.
Don't mourn your death before you've died.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Monday, July 07, 2008
Rising alone, in a lonely morning of a crowded world.
Who is with who? It don't matter any more.
I am with who i chose to be with. Me.
She is all I've got.
I am not being tough on myself. Time is.
Uncreased, unspoilt, the crisp white sheet beside, lies gaping at me.
I have no answers and I've stopped asking questions.
Sleeping in a bed that forever feels cold.
Living in a world that forever feels numb.
Angry with myself but anger betrays me.
Anger coagulated, refuses to surge through my veins.
Trying hard but I feel I've never tried enough.
Its good to love yourself.
But the day you are left with your reflections, your shadows, your echoes and just that,
you know that solipsism is a punishment.
I laugh.
After all love and hate are the two sides of the same coin.
Who is with who? It don't matter any more.
I am with who i chose to be with. Me.
She is all I've got.
I am not being tough on myself. Time is.
Uncreased, unspoilt, the crisp white sheet beside, lies gaping at me.
I have no answers and I've stopped asking questions.
Sleeping in a bed that forever feels cold.
Living in a world that forever feels numb.
Angry with myself but anger betrays me.
Anger coagulated, refuses to surge through my veins.
Trying hard but I feel I've never tried enough.
Its good to love yourself.
But the day you are left with your reflections, your shadows, your echoes and just that,
you know that solipsism is a punishment.
I laugh.
After all love and hate are the two sides of the same coin.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Deconstruction of love, if i dare say it.
When you are in love there's is no ego, no pain, no hassle.
When you know you have someone, all you care bout is his love.
You pretend, you lie, you deny.
You may even try to complicate things.
But no matter how hard you try and how God damn badly you may wish,
the complications are all made up.
Love is not complicated. Its simple, its easy.
But its we who make it so difficult, so freaky, so awfully dreadful.
Its a human trait, a generic flaw in each human cell to never see things straight.
Love is when you doubt it, when you are never sure if, 'this is it'.
Love is not imposing, its just there when its there.
You can never force it to exist or force it to leave.
All it wants is for you to realize, in few of those sweet moments that its there.
It never asks for more but its misunderstood largely to have done that.
It never complains of rejection or celebrates conjunction.
That is basically done by people like you and me, not love.
But it is a little selfish i must say, because though it is mostly believed to be for someone else it actually is for you.
Love is a gift that is meant for you and you alone.
It is an experience meant entirely for you,
even though you may share it and celebrate it with fellow winners.
Of all accusations if i may agree, I would agree to just one thing...
Love tends to proliferate tremendous foolishness.
And I say, what the heck, there is no harm being a fool amidst a race of millions dying to be smart.
When you know you have someone, all you care bout is his love.
You pretend, you lie, you deny.
You may even try to complicate things.
But no matter how hard you try and how God damn badly you may wish,
the complications are all made up.
Love is not complicated. Its simple, its easy.
But its we who make it so difficult, so freaky, so awfully dreadful.
Its a human trait, a generic flaw in each human cell to never see things straight.
Love is when you doubt it, when you are never sure if, 'this is it'.
Love is not imposing, its just there when its there.
You can never force it to exist or force it to leave.
All it wants is for you to realize, in few of those sweet moments that its there.
It never asks for more but its misunderstood largely to have done that.
It never complains of rejection or celebrates conjunction.
That is basically done by people like you and me, not love.
But it is a little selfish i must say, because though it is mostly believed to be for someone else it actually is for you.
Love is a gift that is meant for you and you alone.
It is an experience meant entirely for you,
even though you may share it and celebrate it with fellow winners.
Of all accusations if i may agree, I would agree to just one thing...
Love tends to proliferate tremendous foolishness.
And I say, what the heck, there is no harm being a fool amidst a race of millions dying to be smart.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
A blazing flame,
a stirring whisper.
Behold; art thou an omen
or just a mere sign?
Buried within
the heart of seven deep oceans,
a secret untold;
malice of the greatest sinner.
The roar of the deadly beast,
and the dark tales unfold.
Frenzied, we search the light.
Art thou going to rid us,
redeem us of all crime?
Where is that divine glory,
when is the resurrection?
a stirring whisper.
Behold; art thou an omen
or just a mere sign?
Buried within
the heart of seven deep oceans,
a secret untold;
malice of the greatest sinner.
The roar of the deadly beast,
and the dark tales unfold.
Frenzied, we search the light.
Art thou going to rid us,
redeem us of all crime?
Where is that divine glory,
when is the resurrection?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Monday, January 07, 2008
The adventures of Harriet, Debra and Alexis
Harriet, Debra and Alexis had gone drinking with their friends the night before and when they returned home the sun was almost about to crack through the sky.
Debra collapsed and gave into the subtle seduction of sweet slumber, while Harriet and Alexis shamelessly exploited the web world. Not for long though, coz when they woke up it was way past midday. While the world was trickling into their dinning halls for luncheon, these girls fired sausages for the holy ceremony of breakfast!
Hours flew by and three corners of the room remained occupied by three bodies, heads dug deep into man's miracle - the laptop!
The silver shiny moon glistened in the sky, it was 11pm and it was time for the girls to venture out of their respective cosy corners for some dinner.
"Oh gawd we've been sitting at the same spot all day" said Debra.
"Not just that we've been on our laptops ever since then" added Alexis.
"Oh come on guys we did not budge from our spots because we were busy" said Harriet.
They really don't give a fuck about Delhi's late night orgy of patriarchy as they dare to step out at the oddest of hours in best of spirits.
Uncaring they walk the dark streets, get followed by a car, spot lecherous men, get into an auto, reach JNU, buy bidis and eat parathas cause that's just about what they can really afford.
As the bidis are lit up, the night is filled with faint aromas of fresh burning leaves. Highly natural, yet Debra couldn't resist to say that, "Aaah i can smell it. Feels like i am sitting with a bunch of rickshaw walas!"
They pride themselves over their courage to face the chilly winter nights of the capital city(that too in an auto) which actually is highly commendable and awfully insane. Get onto another and back again. This time, all awake, fingers clanking and heads dug deep into same ol laptop screens. One chatted, one socialized with random people, one wrote a blog post, made a sweet memory in her heart.
Debra collapsed and gave into the subtle seduction of sweet slumber, while Harriet and Alexis shamelessly exploited the web world. Not for long though, coz when they woke up it was way past midday. While the world was trickling into their dinning halls for luncheon, these girls fired sausages for the holy ceremony of breakfast!
Hours flew by and three corners of the room remained occupied by three bodies, heads dug deep into man's miracle - the laptop!
The silver shiny moon glistened in the sky, it was 11pm and it was time for the girls to venture out of their respective cosy corners for some dinner.
"Oh gawd we've been sitting at the same spot all day" said Debra.
"Not just that we've been on our laptops ever since then" added Alexis.
"Oh come on guys we did not budge from our spots because we were busy" said Harriet.
They really don't give a fuck about Delhi's late night orgy of patriarchy as they dare to step out at the oddest of hours in best of spirits.
Uncaring they walk the dark streets, get followed by a car, spot lecherous men, get into an auto, reach JNU, buy bidis and eat parathas cause that's just about what they can really afford.
As the bidis are lit up, the night is filled with faint aromas of fresh burning leaves. Highly natural, yet Debra couldn't resist to say that, "Aaah i can smell it. Feels like i am sitting with a bunch of rickshaw walas!"
They pride themselves over their courage to face the chilly winter nights of the capital city(that too in an auto) which actually is highly commendable and awfully insane. Get onto another and back again. This time, all awake, fingers clanking and heads dug deep into same ol laptop screens. One chatted, one socialized with random people, one wrote a blog post, made a sweet memory in her heart.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Yawn...
I have never blogged in pointers....however i think it kinda helps at times when you are too lazy to put down a holistic little creative piece. Bullshit to that! Sometimes you just wanna talk, and talk shit, talk in pointers and thank your dear buddy Anurag Kotoky for clearing your pointer inhibition!
Post August pandemonium....
1. Lost track of day and night.
2. Work is an obligation that must be finished before you surrender yourself to lord Bacchus.
3. Classes are meant to be walked out of after you've got attendance.
4. It is compulsory to then make a toast over some adrak wali chai.
5. Inevitable to find your friends from certain radio and television department to already be present there.
6. You may not have money for lunch but you must have money for cigarettes. In anycase murali might have written "udhar nahi chalega" but he doesnt really mean that, does he?
7. Great heated discussions over burning smokes on how someones gonna die because of their smoking habits and then wonder deep down inside that it could be you.
8. Get another smoke.
9. Plan to go out in the night, vaguely.
10. Clueless at 5:00 pm, chatting away to glory.
11. Lying on the grass, staring at the sky, listening to music, smoking more, smoking up if you get lucky.
12. 7:00 pm someone pulls you out and sends you off to the hostel, only to pack your things and leave.
13. Collect money, empty each little pocket with every little bit of chillar and get booze.
14. Still stuck with bluemoon....alas!
15. Drinking, drinking.....sloshed? maybe not.
16. Walk to JNU half alive, half dead but still craving butter chicken.
17. Eat, smoke, eat, have coffee, eat, smoke.
18. Walk......(maybe sing, at times when you really feel like/care to)
19. Reach base camp and crash with your fellow refugees...
20. Wake up.....of course you are late for first class. Might as well sleep more.
21. Balls to attendance.....(ummm....but we still do hope we make a 70%)
22. Reach college post lunch, hung over, wearing same old clothes, unbrushed, unkempt.
23. Hit tea point.....chai, sutta, more loans, more smokes, more talk.
It goes on....
Post August pandemonium....
1. Lost track of day and night.
2. Work is an obligation that must be finished before you surrender yourself to lord Bacchus.
3. Classes are meant to be walked out of after you've got attendance.
4. It is compulsory to then make a toast over some adrak wali chai.
5. Inevitable to find your friends from certain radio and television department to already be present there.
6. You may not have money for lunch but you must have money for cigarettes. In anycase murali might have written "udhar nahi chalega" but he doesnt really mean that, does he?
7. Great heated discussions over burning smokes on how someones gonna die because of their smoking habits and then wonder deep down inside that it could be you.
8. Get another smoke.
9. Plan to go out in the night, vaguely.
10. Clueless at 5:00 pm, chatting away to glory.
11. Lying on the grass, staring at the sky, listening to music, smoking more, smoking up if you get lucky.
12. 7:00 pm someone pulls you out and sends you off to the hostel, only to pack your things and leave.
13. Collect money, empty each little pocket with every little bit of chillar and get booze.
14. Still stuck with bluemoon....alas!
15. Drinking, drinking.....sloshed? maybe not.
16. Walk to JNU half alive, half dead but still craving butter chicken.
17. Eat, smoke, eat, have coffee, eat, smoke.
18. Walk......(maybe sing, at times when you really feel like/care to)
19. Reach base camp and crash with your fellow refugees...
20. Wake up.....of course you are late for first class. Might as well sleep more.
21. Balls to attendance.....(ummm....but we still do hope we make a 70%)
22. Reach college post lunch, hung over, wearing same old clothes, unbrushed, unkempt.
23. Hit tea point.....chai, sutta, more loans, more smokes, more talk.
It goes on....
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