Sunday, March 23, 2008

haphazard


bright yellow yarn and pretentious boulders
that once came cascading down my shoulders
and i still went..”No, i don't like that shade”
back then, i called a spade a spade




i liked the pretty engravings on those coffins
wishing wells didn't surface that often
and all that was there, all that was clear
was so pointless, so destined to disappear


the flute sang, and it sang my song
the universe sang in unison, but they didn't sing along
and pathetic pink ponies didn't quite see the light
they dreamt of hounddogs chasing them at night



and all that this means, all that i see
are those emotions marinated in jelly
and i carry them along, without a bowl to bind
i'll trap what i like from what i find


Holi-day!

Yeah, thats right, folks! Holi came, and holi went. But what didn't quite go just as quick, were the things holi brings upon us. Traditionally, of course..holi was meant to be a festival of splendid colour. People actually worked to create a range that was breathtaking..using vegetable dyes and what not...

But that was then, and this is now. And Holi now, for many of us, means a whole lot more (and a lot lot different) than veggie dyes. For starters, we have permanent colour (you know, the ones that leave you with ogre-looking faces) or pucca rang, and permanent water colours that leave your nails and ears looking like you haven't bathed in months. Manicures, anyone?

Then come the eggs. I'd be lying if i said i didn't really like playing with eggs to begin with. In fact, the very thought grossed me out. But i soon got over that phobia. And nope..no therapy. It all happened in around 5 seconds when I first got pelted with an egg, two years ago. And my only thought then-revenge.
There was no looking back...

And this year...there was shoe polish! ( I know, I know. crazy.)

Overall, I've bathed a lot, eaten a lot(all that water makes you hungry), exercised a lot (carrying all the buckets of water),and had fun...a LOT.
So..I'm not complaining.

At the end of the day, we all looked like slum children. Yeah, like the ones who look like they've been rolled around in dirt, and then rolled around in dirt some more. But We were thrilled, happy slum children. There's just something about throwing stuff like colours and water on other people. It brings an impish kind of joy to your week. And as I spend the weekend scrubbing off the shoe polish, I'm thinking...it was all worth it!

Monday, March 17, 2008

...and THAT, my friends, is the question....

Of all the mad, bizarre quirky things our body can do, none have awakened my insides like the Flight or Flee response. Sure, there are the hiccups (which I am yet to fully understand), The fuzzy foot cramp that makes you feel like you're full of sand, The head rush due to sitting upside down, the adrenaline rush in general, the Heat/cold rush when you swallow a bundle of ice....

But nothing really shakes you up like the Flight or flee response. I first heard about it on “Inside Eddie Johnson” on Nick, years and years ago..and I thought..”What a load of rubbish!'. But if you've never actually experienced it, then you need to go get yourself into some situations! I mean that! Then, you will finally know what I mean. And if you fight, and win, there's nothing that can make you feel better. If you flee, and escape, you might either feel like the badass who managed to make a run for it, or astonished that you didn't actually fight! Either way, you can't look back on it without pride, if you execute either response tactfully and a with slight bit of glee..I can guarantee that!

In general, I'm not really the careful, non-aggressive type. I've been known to be pretty-darn-volatile, (whether its needed or not is going to take up a lot more than a blog post) and even better (or worse, depending on perspective) -I can also be quite vocal and screechy. So, as you can probably predict..I vouch for the Fight response. Sure, the Escape provides some thrill, but Throwing in something verbally or not(Even better) atleast makes you feel like you gave it your all. You may walk away disoriented, dismissed or worse...but you can atleast walk away with some kind of participation certificate hanging asymmetrically over your partially bruised, yet still-existent Ego. Eventually, you'll even get better at it. (I'm still waiting for that day.)

My take..don't walk away. If you are waiting for the opportune moment...Its there, hanging somewhere around your zone. And fleeing will only disregard its rare occurrence in our lives.

And if you have a whole new take on this...Spill!

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

My Veil

This was initially a draft for my opening post for what was supposed to be my anonymous Blog.
Well..Look how that turned out! I Guess at some point I changed a little bit!

I crouch. I turn away. I crawl, and I hide.

Only sheer fabric separates me from the world. Sheer. But they say fine lines are the ones that make all the difference sometimes. The fine, thin strands, like wisps of material represent everything that characterize my persona- My dignity, My Personality, My voice.

I want to write my heart, soul and brains out- Out to anyone that wants to read, out to anyone who wants to see. But I want to do that without compromising my dignity. We live in a world..well..atleast..I live in a world, where some things do matter. I can't really say what I want to say, Speak how I think I should speak, and most importantly-write what I want to write- without being judged. Without others being prejudiced, Without me being..categorized. Its not a fear, its pure dislike. I dislike the possibility of being judged for how I think. I dislike being written off as this person with vague ideas. I dislike the amalgamation of the “writing me” with the “real life” me, who is obviously a lot more concealed when it comes to how she really thinks. Not because she wants to be that way..but because society unfortunately can't make the distinction between someone who is willing to be candid about things, and someone who can easily be considered a lost case. Its sad, but true.

So..I won't be categorized. I won't be judged. I will, however, write what I want, how I want to..and I hope that it all goes somewhere. Oops, I don't know where. But..I'll leave that to luck and fate.

I will write, behind my veil. But what's behind it, isn't nearly as important as what comes out through it.........




Thursday, March 6, 2008

Vanishing Stripes

If you are reading this, that basically means you're educated and smart enough to know that it is upto us to save the tiger. The tiger is India's national animal, and more over, their numbers are dwindling at an unacceptable rate.
Just a few clicks, and you can make a roar of a difference.....

http://www.ndtv.com/convergence/ndtv/savetiger/sthome.aspx

Sit up, take notice, and Sign up!

Rising through the Straw

Lets face it.

We're all weak.

Weak, weaklings. And its not out fault, simply because I believe we were born this way. I believe we were meant to be born weak. Look at baby us. We're so gosh-darn-cute. Not only that, we're also so gosh-darn-helpless. That actually constitutes most of the reason why babies are so cute. We were meant to be that way. Cute, helpless. Weak.

And we can't stay that way forever. Its a cold, cruel, scary, treacherous, and plain RIDICULOUS world out there. We can't be covered in our cute, cuddly, protected insides forever. Because sooner or later, the Big bad Wolf outside will huff and puff. And by then, if we haven't gotten the hang out bulding brick houses, or learning karate chops, or just plain common sense...well....lets just say the wolf is called the “Big Bad” wolf for a reason.

I guess at some level we all have comfort zones. I know I do. I also know I'm just plain lazy to walk out of mine and into the fire. And you know my biggest enemy? Reason coupled with excuses. Meaning...excuses start sounding reasonable. And then I never walk. I never learn. And basically, god help me when I hear huffing and Puffing.

A lot of things can wake you up to the wheezing outside. College nearly constitues #1 on my list. I learnt a lot otherwise, but nothing really opened my eyes with clothesline clips like college did. Its still happening. My eyes are being opened everyday. I guess I have five kinds of people I have to thank for that...

#1- My friends.

They've separated the good, the bad and the ugly for me.

Either by example, or by explanation.

For that, I owe them.


#2- People I don't know but have heard about.

Nothing spreads as well (and tastes as delicious) as gossip.

And if that gossip is “That person is absolutely awesome”...you know that some people are

doing some things very, very right.


#3- People I don't know and have heard about..in err..a not so good way.

Nothing bites like a bad impression.

And nothing's harder than trying to change one.

Enough said.


#4- Teachers

Surprise, surprise! Who would've thunk! Anyone who's in the same college as me would be plain shocked to read this, but the college atmosphere simply forces you to grow up, think on your own terms and manage your life. Simply because no teacher is going to do that for you. So i guess their strategy, as much as we detest it all, works.

School was awesome, but It didn't get me to attempt doing any of those things.


#5- Me!

Simply for actually being positive enough to look at the whole thing as a learning experience, when disatrous events also come to mind.


So anyway....About school will probably be a different post, but College turned out to be a whole more than I expected, and bargained for. Its a whole new life of mine...one that I like..and I like the fact that its mine, my own...and not necessarily carried over from school. It used to be that way, but now it has become its own entity, and I like that. I like the distinction.


At some level, I feel Like I'm finally, truly, growing up. (A LOT of people may disagree. Ha!)

I feel like I'm learning to become stronger, even with all the ridiculous constraints that college imposes. Its like a tube all around me, and I'm forced to grow over-all in spite of it and come out through the other end. Like rising through a straw. And as much as I hate it, Love it, or am sick of it...I need it.


p.s- I AM AWED.

I CANNOT BELIEVE I ADMITTED THAT.

And In spite of it all, the college bitching will continue!


Saturday, March 1, 2008

Mud Pie, Cerebellum and Vitality

The dark forces came
The dark forces went
We waged a war
In its sixth, fruity flavour
That only turned sour later

Brain extracts
Picked, un-picked
Ooh, I'm a fussy bucket
And orchids with fake blue ink surging through them would agree.

She's been there to london to look at the queen
But She's frightened me all the way from there
Now I know why we saw 'degrees of transition'
But that's why those terms are apt, I suppose.

Interpretations are over-done.
These lines weren't supposed to make sense.

*Cackle*
Atleast, that's what I'm telling you.

 
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