spill it over

She…

2010-05-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

The day was a scorching hot summer day, she sat by the window of her room thinking why was the sweat dripping down her back, without realizing that the fan was not switched on and that the hot air from the window was the only source of “air”. She looked at the clock it said 15.00; she quickly made a note that “15” was not a very Indian way to say it is 3.00 pm. She smiled at how influentially westernized she had become since the time she remembered playing son-sakli and dabba express.

But that small bit reason to smile made her tremble, tremble at some thought, a fearful thought. She could feel drops of pearl coming out of her eyes; she could feel the disgust inside. She saw that her childhood was not only about sweet memories as she recalled a stranger dripping his libido filled white juice on her 5 year old vagina she cringed and felt nauseatic. She couldn’t remember that man’s face or colour or caste or his clothes, but all she could remember is that after that day when she grew up to know what exactly had happened to her she lost her faith in humanity. She couldn’t think of someone trying to do this to a child, a being that was stripped of its innocence to a curious mean mind. She tried to get over it by speaking of it to her love, she tried to get over it by reading a book on child sexual abuse. She didn’t read the book because she ought to know how to fight it but because she wanted to know that there were others like her in this world.

She had got over it, nearly forgotten about it, but than those series of days came where her cousin would wriggle on top of her every night, jerking back and forth, initially it started with touching her “assets”. The first day she got up to see him touching, but his eyes were closed like he was dreaming, she read an article on people who indulge in sexual activities in their sleep and don’t remember the next day about it. She empathized him on being “sick”, but didn’t know how she would tell her aunt about the state of her “son’s” mental state. Her aunt could misunderstand her, could think she was lying or could simply overlook the matter because a son is the child who stays with the family forever and an Indian family would never want to lose such an asset. She slept everynight fearfully closing her eyes and reminding herself to be alert, but her dreams would fool her and she would linger into the world of “fast asleep” soon. Then suddenly she would wake up to that loathed touch in the middle of the night. But one day she just found him on top her, fully clothed, no penetration, he was just moving on top of her, she got up with a start, he moved back to his bed still “fast asleep”. She got up ran to the loo, she couldn’t think straight, she knew she was dressed when she found him on top, but she still looked for blood stains in her underpants, she looked for a long time, checking again and again to make sure she was a virgin. She cried her heart out that night, she got back memories of her childhood, she felt an extreme disgust for herself. She started seeing herself as some cheap slut whose innocence and dignity was stripped off. The nights became better he had stopped making her the target, she slept better and didn’t go out of the home with a shadow under her eyes, she started eating well. Then she thought of sharing it with her love, she told him how it was, he instantly charged his rageful words at how he hated her cousin for this, he didn’t hug her and say don’t worry I will always be there for you. Sometimes men just don’t know what women feel like, then she made a correction in her head that they ‘never’ know what a woman feels like.

She started having trouble understanding herself because there were three worlds she lived in, one world was where her parents didn’t see any potential in her, a second world where she was looked upto amongst her “friends” (she didn’t have a lot of them) and the third world where she knew her body was stripped off its dignity and where she felt like a slut, then there was this small world where she could be a kid, be a woman and a mother, it was where she has herself, her brother and her lover, the small world that she was proud to own and live in. She was the happiest there, she got free love and absolutely free smiles. She could feel the sun shining upon her, with the sweet smell of wet soil and the cold comfort of winter breeze all at once. Then after a few days it started happening again, her cousin’s “wants” had returned, she immediately spoke of it the next day to her love, he forced her and angrily admonished her for not speaking to her mother, she gathered courage and in an urge to save her fourth small world in falling apart she spoke to her mother. Her mother got agitated, said she will speak to the cousin and to his mother, her mother sat quiet through dinner that night thinking about it. After a few days her mother asked her to wear a bra in the night too, she realized what her mother was thinking about, she caught her mothers thought which spoke loud and clear that she was not dressed properly and hence those libido-advances at her. She lost all her dignity that day, she kept her love away from this little detail but she told him how ugly and small she felt. He listened every single time she said it, she started saying it every single month in an urge to get rid of the feeling. But all she did was she kept on spending her love’s patience. From the fourth small world she was losing her brother’s hand slowly and gradually and realizing this she clung to her love’s hand even more tightly. The effect was he wanted to leave her, had lost his patience and could not see the same girl he fell in love with

Now, she was sitting at the window after he hung up on her saying, “There is no future in this relationship.” She sat there still unmoved and still, she didn’t cry or scream at herself looking into the mirror. She got up wrote a hurried letter saying. “Nobody is to be blamed.” And she slowly moved to the kitchen to see the sharpened steel, she got it close to herself.

She woke up with a jerk, she was dreaming, she had slept after continuously crying for a day over her soon to come break up. She knew her fourth small world would fall apart in a few days. She cried thinking of how the people she prayed for were not bothered about her well-being, she felt as if all the negativity of their lives had affected her life while all the positivity from her life was sucked out and fed into their lives. But what was the solution to all her problems to all the mental unrest.

What was the outcome of all the emotional unrest? She will give up? Is that how she would want it to be? She was never the fancy warrior kinds from those old story books, she was rather the emotional characters like the ones who would give up their lives for others. But the ones who would give up their lives were known, people knew their name and who they were. Then she realized that all this while she expected for others to understand her, while the world didn’t, she should carry on for the sake of understanding herself. Just the way she has not been named in this entire story she would not want to go out of this world without people knowing her name. She said to herself that until people know her name, know her, she is not giving up!

For once that I spoke…

2010-03-17T19:19:00.000-07:00

For once that I spoke of the twinge,
And all I heard was an empathetic nod.
You didn’t bother about the time spent,
Time spent on this melodramatic fixation.
One, two, three and it went on blurring;
I realized I had taken all you could give me.
The time and patience to listen
To listen to the unfinished sob.
Whiney words and aggravated lines,
Your absence was appreciated by the self-pitying soul.
And now I think I can go on with life,
With the grown up heart, mind and thought.
Thank you for all the help that holds my hand,
Provided by your missing presence.

Long time

2010-03-17T19:13:00.000-07:00

It has been quite sometime since I last posted. But now I think I will start writing again, writing again here. So, more posts to come and many more spilling over from the most sincerity....:)

God Bless

The "I am Busy" syndrome

2008-10-23T23:06:00.000-07:00

Have u been hearing from people around u more than often that "they are busy"..then u just met a person who is suffering from the "I am Busy" syndrome. People under the effect of this syndrome seem to have forgotten the humane reality of life. A few symptoms to be listed are:
1. Their Gtalk window will say "Available" and wen u buzz dem with a 'HI' de will quickly say that "can we talk later,m a lil busy,u c?" (clearly no one told them about the creation of a successful illusion)
2.You will always be able to reach their phone by just trying their number once but..they would say they have been busy and need to call up someone
3.A few of them will actually be busy with the simplest of things like -"I am scratching ma butt" (yes,m exaggerating)
4. And when u tell dem u really needed to talk de simply will exclaim that de will call u back once de r FREE so that they can have an uniterrupted talk. And the LUCKY- uninterrupted- free time never comes.
5. And mind u! when u complain that they have been plain avoiding u they get highly offended and make it a point that they show you how more busy they have been since they heard ur complain.
For all you guys suffering from the syndrome and having mis-interpreted the word- busy, i will clarify the meaning and i.e. tan tan tadang .....
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BUSY=HAVING A GREAT DEAL OF WORK
and it does not mean "I need to avoid people who are trying to give me bhaav"
And it is important to get rid off it or else u will be left their to roam alone with u losing all ur friends and more over dont poke fun at others emotions at the expense of making urself look important
:) yeah,u can thank me for helping you, but yeah, only when M NOT BUSY :P

A reason to smile

2008-10-17T10:17:00.000-07:00

How many times have u had the reason to smile? How many times have u had the urge to cry those happy tears? Why does a human being always search for reasons to get rid off that little frown?

Answers are difficult yet opportunities so many, people forget to notice the beautiful framework of a well in form functioning train and would rather crib at the grotesque nature of the crowd around them. There are moments of celebration when the rain promises to quench the sun-baked earth's thirst but the mankind would glower over the disruption caused to their routine. There are joyous moments when the "Forest flame" blooms but the human species are bothered with its old branches falling on their car's windshield. The reason to look up at the sky and smile back with admiration for the flocks of birds returning to their protective shelter are many but man would want to cry over the indecisive nature of his life. The reasons to smile are many than the ones to cry on.

The reasons to smile on are many and small, and one should never forget that big things come in small packages. So, if one needs to smile, the reason to smile is not hard to find but once u choose the path of worry then smile becomes a remote pleasure and happiness a never achievable goal.

WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD-LOUIS ARMSTRONG

I see trees of green....red roses too

I see em bloom......for me and for you

And I think to myself....what a wonderful world

Review of The Kite Runner :P

2008-10-11T06:23:00.000-07:00

“In the old days, the winds swept through the irrigated plains around Jalalabad where farmers grew sugarcane, and impregnated the city’s air with a sweet scent. I closed my eyes and searched for the sweetness. I didn’t find it.”-

The above line from the novel is one of the many lines used to narrate the transition in the social, political and economical scene of Afghanistan from the 1970s to the year 2002. The book with its clear and witty pace briefly talks about the nexus between the protagonist’s past-present-future and Afghanistan’s brief history.

The book with its various components is a closed and clear track record of Afghanistan’s not so thinkable past. With the entire world believing that the nation in question is synonymous to inhuman Taliban has a brief lesson to learn and understand from the book. The book is more of an appealing collection of prose written to inform the people of the entire world that before Afghanistan was made tantamount to violence, the country was a rather peaceful nation with a flourishing economy.

The book talks volumes of the Afghani culture, and the major thematic cultural practice being the Grand Kite Tournament. The author does an overwhelmingly positive work of converging heavy weight emotions with the dramatic kite tournament. The kite tournament and the subsequent episode of Hassan getting raped brings in another cultural component of the country and that is the caste based discrimination. The book in its initial chapters talks momentarily about Pashtuns being considered as a higher sect than the Hazaras. It also further contends that Hazaras were given status of slaves and hence were looked down upon. And in the later part of the book there is a massive heart wrenching and inhuman description of how ruthlessly the Taliban kills people from the Hazara community under the pretext of ethnic cleansing. The description more or less tries to clarify that the Taliban’s persecution of Hazaras is not a new development but is a result of the traditionally induced cultural discrimination. The cultural aspect of food has also its fair share of description and with all the consequent imagery the author makes it apparent that meat is an important and integral part of their diet. The dress of the Afghanis is often described with turban and chapan. However, the kids even in the initial narrative of the 1970’s Kabul are illustrated to be wearing t-shirts and jeans or shorts.

Throughout the novel the author has described many strong characters. The characters have varying influences on the protagonist’s life at different stages. The beautiful narrative and strong characterization grabs the reader’s attention and makes the reader to flip through another page and to read more of the high intensity drama. Hosseini creates some heroic characters such as protagonist's father, Baba, the bear wrestling, honest, and respected Pashtun who distrusts the mullahs (clerics); while Rahim Khan a progressive, social conscious friend of Baba. Gradually Rahim Khan is forced to flee to Pakistan due the Taliban regime's draconian edicts on women, education, and even kite flying. But one of the most important character and sometimes more connective to the reader than the protagonist is Amir’s friend and servant, Hassan. Hassan’s characterization and the events that take place in his life’s description is a volatile piece of emotion-filled drama and at times a reader’s heart might just clench like a little fist behind the bones of one’s chest. Hassan’s episodical narrative is so strong that the boy with the hare-lipped smile makes the reader think at the kind of innocence and trustworthiness he exhibits. The characterization of women is also quite beautiful in the book, with each women being characterized strongly way apart from each other with respect to personality, nature and social identity. Sanaubar (Hassan’s mother), Sofia Akrami (Amir’s mother) and Soraya (Amir’s wife) are the important and prominent female characters from the book. The writer describes Sanaubar with adjectives like notoriously beautiful, protagonist’s mother as an inspiration for him to write and Amir’s wife as a very understanding and dutiful wife.

The book also revolves a lot around emotionally strenuous family ties. Afghanistan is described to be a country where culture and traditions are of monumental importance for the elder member of the family. The protagonist goes through a feeling of immense guilt when he comes to know that Hassan is related to him and is his brother. He further sees himself as the major cause for Hassan’s death and thus goes back to Afghanistan to get Sohrab back. Family is the reason why Amir fights to bring Sohrab home and, ultimately, the channel through which he redeems himself.

The book is a quiet trail of the changing scenarios in the Afghan world of politics and socio-economic unrest. However it shows steadiness through Hassan’s innocence and Asif’s cruelty. The book tries to talk for the misunderstood and mouth-less people of Afghanistan. The narrative tries its best to portray Afghanistan’s culture, people, social bonds and the resourceful Kabul, which was earlier free and pure of the pollutant -Taliban. The author also makes a hopeful expectation when he says-“I dream that lawla flowers will bloom in the streets of Kabul again and rubab music will play in the samovar houses and kites will fly in the skies.” The author through the above lines wants and urges the Afghanistan populace to dream and hope that the past glory and respect be restored to their motherland. And that once again the country will be peaceful as before with different sects co-existing contentedly.

????

2008-05-03T00:02:00.000-07:00

Don't want to live
Don't want to love
I want to fly away
Away from the selfish world
I wish I could cut my wrist and find heaven
I wish I could shut my eyes and find peace
I wish I could drown myself and find beauty
I wish I could kill my heart and find love
I wish I could be dead and be reborn
I wish I could betray and feel the sun
I wish I could tear myself and find ME
I wish I could kill love so that nobody ever hurt be!

Grief

2008-04-13T23:08:00.000-07:00

Take your time to decide my faith,
Take my hair and pull me apart;
Break my bones and make them dead,
Titter-tatter clothes like autumn leaves shed
Ban me from yourself
Because I can't give u peace I am the unfortunate Grief!

TAGGED?????.....

2008-04-02T22:42:00.000-07:00

So what if i was a guy, and m doin dis only cos ma freako frd vikrant has found a new "love"( read blogging) and he has tagged me,hahahaha-http://ishallandiwill.blogspot.com/
so if i was a guy
1. I would automatically turn into a MCP ( all men r dat though they outrightly deny it,don't cry u dying species of feminist men m just generalizing but beware! MCPs will get u soon)
2. I would use ma dearest vikrant's not so manly like fyjc picture as a representation of dis blog entry
3. I would never ever try and poke ma nose in ma sis's bloody business
4. I will start itching ma crotch in public( every guy does it, sum do it in open sum do it wen no1's looking)
5. And finally i will end up ma life trying to understand wt women really want but as hypocrite as men are i will always say that women cum and go,we can live widout women(all u "gay" ppl out der i can hear u screaming out aloud :D ) and women can't change me blah blah blah blah!
P.S -I will thank god everyday cos he made me a gal,thank u thank oooo god

That the moment died....!

2008-02-24T05:31:00.000-08:00

It held onto me,
It clinged on to me;
I want to get rid of it
I want to get away from it
I screamt
I wanted to break out
But the senses were shut,
And no it didn't happen- losing the nut
And then you came and loved
And my heart sighed- "that the moment had died"

Faith?

2008-02-10T08:03:00.001-08:00

Rest won't help solve this conquest of faith,
I have been loyal and have been given back hate;
My heart guards a sudden external attack,
But my love shoos my heart away wearing a passive mask;
I am no one's dream,i am no one's thought,
I am just another WOMAN with hatred and is lout!

THE FALLING IN LOVE EFFECT

2008-01-26T00:17:00.000-08:00

Don't ask me how it started though,
He came along like the wind and blew me away,
I had my brains intact although;
But Mr.Heart wanted the "beat" to sway,
I have lived and existed the falling in love effect for an year now;
And oh what a roller coaster ride it has been,ask me why and how
You think of him in the start of your day and until the day ends
Only to realize he thought of you only as a "good friend"

An extract from-WUTHERING HEIGHTS (1847)

2008-01-18T20:37:00.000-08:00

'Heatcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down.
--"I wish I could hold you," she continued bitterly, "till we were both death! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, 'That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw. I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and at death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them! Will you say so, Heatcliff?"
--"Don't torture me till I am as mad as yourself," cried he, wrenching his head free, and grinding his teeth."'
(from Wuthering Heights)

2008-01-18T08:32:00.000-08:00

A 19 year old walk through life and I don't know where I am heading. So many things I have gone through but when you open up your eyes to the world,it makes you feel so small and makes you realize that a lot is yet to be faced. At times i remain quiet with a question mark hanging above me asking what next? frankly, i don't know,what next? I have question marks asking me "whys" about my past. But again i don't know.I haven't had a celebrated or bombastic past but whatever i have gone through has taught me something and most of the time i have learn t it the hard way. And now i stand at a juncture where i feel that my saturation point has arrived but I am only 19,and this can't be true. So i set out to think about what next? It has been haunting me for awhile and i frankly don't know [yes frankly is ma fav word] and I can't explore the secret that my future holds. Nobody knows the future but me,i don't even know what am I doing with my present. I feel out of place, i feel am done but then i wanted to do so many things and i wanted to be "ME" but now I realize that I never had a proper definition of my "ME". so now I promise myself that I will nurture a dream, try to design my "ME".And when I do that I am sure I have some sleepless nights and some fights coming my way too.

Just another girl

2008-01-15T08:44:00.000-08:00

Just another day in the life of a just another girl
Dnt be surprised if I said that she is like any other gal
Yes,she is,she is just another girl
She is like any girl born with not so black eyes
She is like any girl who has fallen in,out and in love again
She has like any girl got dreams unfulfilled She like any girl goes through "monthly trauma"
She just like any girl has learnt to fear the word 'rape'
Not knowing that it is a common term for both HIM and HER
She has learnt that forbearance is her duty
And silence her birthright
She has tried to differ from everybody else
She has tried to fight away the unrest
She has tried to throw a fit of rage at the worst chap
She has tried to be different for some reason and all
But,Alas! she remains an ordinary girl tagged as "just another gal"

Goodnight

2008-01-12T06:07:00.000-08:00

City's lights have been switched on,
Darkness is delusion ed when far away a flash of spark has come and gone;
The twinkling stars and the moon light up each other bright;
Yeah, just like your smile brightens up me and makes everything right!

song by divine comedy (i just can't get over da lyrics)

2007-12-06T03:13:00.001-08:00

I’m the darkness in the light
I’m the leftness in the right
I’m the rightness in the wrong
I’m the shortness in the long
I’m the goodness in the bad
I’m the saneness in the mad
I’m the sadness in the joy
I’m the gin in the gin soaked boy
The gin soaked boy
I’m the ghost in the machine
I’m the genius in the gene
I’m the beauty in the beast
I’m the sunset in the east
I’m the ruby in the dust
I’m the trust in the mistrust
I’m the Trojan horse in Troy
I’m the gin in the gin soaked boy
The gin soaked boy
I’m the tiger empty cage
I’m the mystery's final page
I’m the stranger's lonely glance
I’m the hero’s only chance
I’m the undiscovered land
I’m the single grain of sand
I’m the Christmas morning toy
I’m the gin in the gin soaked boy
The gin soaked boy
I’m the world you’ll never see
I’m the slave you’ll never free
I’m the truth you’ll never know
I’m the place you’ll never go
I’m the sound you’ll never hear
I’m the course you’ll never steer
I’m the will you’ll not destroy
I’m the gin in the gin soaked boy
Yeah, the gin soaked boy
I’m the half truth in the lie
I’m the why not in the why
I’m the last roll of the di
I’m the old school in the tie
I’m the spirit in the sky
I’m the catcher in the rye
I’m the twinkle in her eye
I’m Jeff Goldblum in "The Fly"
Well, who am I?

***life is not all that bad after all*

2007-12-03T05:48:00.000-08:00

Well who am i
I ask this question every time
And my soul cries
"I" is me and "me" is I

My soul further exclaims,
You r a person, who everybody blames,
To b rude and always angry;
And u just talk to me,
And rivers of tears flow down ,when u r hurt badly
And u shout aloud why always me.

But remember that if u r made to suffer the most;
Den god thinks that u have the worlds gr8est gift-forbearance,
So that u win and raise a toast.

But these words never calm you,
And you cum crying with a wound fresh and new
Remember what I(soul) say today
And never forget until your last day.

You are not the only one who is made to suffer in this world.

Real suffering is to the new born child;
Who sleeps on the road
When he is meant to be resting in a cozy cradle.

Real suffering is to the mother who has lost her young son,
But the court says "suicide attempt" & killed by none.

Real suffering is to the man;
Who has lost his near 1's and lost the aim to live;
As the doctor has declared him HIV positive.

Just take a look around;
And u will find out for once and all;
That sufferings surround one and all,

So the next time u scream-
"Why I've been chosen?"
Take a look around
Stop being selfish;
And stop screaming y me
And I hope that will end your gr8 saga of self-pity

Loss Of Innocence

2007-11-18T02:35:00.000-08:00

It had been a long time since he played this tune,the glory of wind and the mildly drizzling raindrops reminded him of the tune and probably there was something else that reminded him of that tune too.The tune took him back to that day.Two years back behind a church under the circumstances of the same weather and the same tune being played at the background the man had stabbed a 16 year old innocent lad.The boy had just ran into him while going towards the woman selling candles and as the garden was muddy the boy slipped and as a reflex to save himself from falling he caught hold of the collar of the hastily running away man.He would have confessed,he would have tried to make it simpler,but he just couldn't and couldn't explain it to himself that how an innocent boy's murder's confession would make it easier for him to face God on his judgment day.And all the guilt,all the fear and all the anger made him feel even more pathetic,he was losing his faith in himself and he was searching for help,a help that could let him wash away the sin he committed against humanity.
John Matthews still recalled that day clearly.Rains had just started touching the sand of the sun-drenched Goan beaches. He still could recall how a picture of him and his adopted son in a local newspaper had brought the real parents of his son and ask for their child back.He was a wealthy man,he owned 2 cashew nut factories.He would have spent his entire earnings to win the case,but the parents refused to take any money,they just kept repeating that they had left their son in an NGO's organization only because at that point of time they were not so well to do,but later the feeling of abandoning one's own child,one's own part had sickened them.And very soon they went onto search him.But John too couldn't help it,he couldn't think of a second without the boy.And soon the kid's parents moved him to court.John's' lawyer had tried his best but the parents were having an advantage of emotional inclination of the jury.The mother out of annoyance had cried out that the man if he wants could adopt some other child and thus it will be of help to that child and the mother begged for her child's custody.That day John's lawyer told John that he winning this case was uncertain.John couldn't breath,couldn't sleep,couldn't eat and just couldn't stop staring at his son and couldn't stop thinking about his useless and helpless state.John had just walked out of his home one day and gone to the north of the town.He had some work,some things to get rid of.It took him not more than 2 hours.And he was returning from there when he walked past the church,and then the boy held his collar.John's heart was pounding hard but suddenly he saw that now the boy was getting scared looking at the changing and shocking expressions of John's face.John couldn't think,he couldn't react.And the next thing he knew was he had stabbed the boy.He couldn't believe it,there was no possible rational or sane reason to support the murder.And besides there was no reason at all,the boy was unknown,didn't know john,didn't know what he was going through.Later when he sat in his home,he got a call from his lawyer saying that the couple had mysteriously disappeared.John's heart knew deep inside that they hadn't just disappeared,but mercilessly killed by a mighty selfish cruel "Human".He had killed 3 innocent people because of his mighty selfish soul which was hungry for more love and affection.But today after 2 years he just couldn't take it anymore.He wanted to confess.He thought,he thought a lot.And then he thought of confessing his brutal murder of innocence to innocence itself.It was 9 in the night and his child Richard was planning to go to bed once he was done with his prayer. John sat next to him and took his hand and he confessed.He confessed everything to him.He cried,he begged for pardon,he wanted his son to understand that he loved him and he might have been selfish but he wanted his little child to pass a judgment and he would obey it even if he has to be punished.But he wanted his son to forgive him.
John had placed his head on his son's lap and cried his heart out.And then awaiting for a response,John looked up to his kid.And suddenly he saw that the angelic light colored eyes had turned red.Red with fury,anger,anger of being cheated.He felt that his dad had cheated his belief and his trust.He was ashamed of himself and he was disgusted.He blatantly walked out on hid father and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.And john sat there realizing the truth,that his cruelty and murder of innocence had cost him the loss of innocence,innocence of his only happiness in life-his son Richard

Losing out on time

2007-11-17T07:37:00.000-08:00

Time has won again.
A year will end again.
And memories sweet and sour promise to linger again.
Real friends standing by and untrue 1's found new 1's again.
Love crossed all limits and fears it will b forgotten again.
Heart swears to reduce the heat of the frowning parents again.
Nature promises to be a spoil sport under the effect of Mr Ozone Depletion again.
And man will make known mistakes again.
Hands will join and memories will pace in a tick tock jig again.
Cause time has won yet again!

From the musical Singing In The Rain

2007-11-15T19:18:00.000-08:00

I'm singing in the rain
Just singin' in the rain
What a glorious feeling
I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Singin', just singin' in the rain

its not da end for us

2007-11-05T20:47:00.000-08:00

Eyes mildly wet.
Nose turned pink.
I wipe my teary thoughts away.
M used to it ur tears,ur complains,ur sob story u say.
U dont remember da things i did 4 u.
All of dat looks miniscule in front of da things i say and do.
I know sumwer deep inside u feel like never seeing me again.
But i wud always want to c ur face even wid ma eyes close wen m dead.

crossroads

2007-11-05T19:09:00.000-08:00

Crossroads
Today i am stuck on da lifes crossroads,
Der is love,career,family and peace to choose from.
I can't think of a damn thought,
That can save me from being stranded on lifes path;
I look up at da open sky,anticipatin divine intervention;
But der's nothin dat smiles back at me as an answer.
Except for da sun's rays which blinds me
And as i luk down and decide upon solvin da crossroad puzzle on ma own;
He gifts me wid a thinkin dat its not important to see them deviating from each other,
But important to know dat they all join at da center!