English August

Maya felt the cold surface of the sheet she was lying on. It smelt good. It smelt like a mix of the old and the clean and the familiar. The sheet was probably there for days before she got home. The sheet was wet because she had cried into it. She enjoyed the helplessness of not having the physical strength to wipe away her flooded nose and eyes. How melancholic, she thought. Is this why Devdas, drunk himself to death? How lame. She was experiencing the finality of having the person she loved the most in the world squeeze all life and hope out of me like a toothpaste. Slowly and deliberately squeezed out. She marveled at the surreal sense of have the profound inability to think and well, act. It had been raining outside. Everything, took on a dull yellow tinge. She heard her dad walking around for his usually mid afternoon snack. Her dad usually sensed stuff. She so didn’t want any advice or questions. She would leave home in a few days anyway.

She had really wanted it to rain when she was here. The dry land where she lived little appealed to her. Now she wasn’t so sure whether she identified with the dull grey skies. She would rather prefer a blindingly cheerful sun. In fact, she didn’t want neither. She felt like the universe was conspiring against her. She walked over to the kitchen and swallowed several gulps of water. It felt cool and life giving but only like drops of oil on water.

She thought back to earlier this morning, when her mom and her had been to the jewelry shop. They had placed in a corner, a cut out of an articles on body piercing. The article said that kids who did so usually suffered from psychological problems and did so to evade hurt and feel better about themselves. She had been quite amused by the opinion and smirked at the ‘adult’ view of the trend. The article talked about a girl who had broken up with her boyfriend of 4 years. She had pierced various parts of the body coz she got some kind of sweet pleasure from the pain. Yeah, those were the exact words of the article. She remember feeling like that was the most bizarre and ridiculous thing ever. Of course, this recollection happened in a split second of a thought molecule when she still felt the wet sheet under her cheek. It still sounded pretty damn painful but very understandable to her. Strangely, she thought of famous people who had committed suicide. Did they also feel it snap? She wondered. Why didn’t they get help? She could not control the thousands of images, feelings, shapes, emotions all flashing inside her brain like a intimidating thunderstorm. She wish it would stop, it was giving her a pounding headache. She idly compared it to some kind of death metal concert in her head, backed by memories in tune with the melody-less thrashing. (which is wat she expected a death metal to sound like) She thought of a family friends son, all of 35 years old, who still hadn't gotten over his college years wasted-ness. He had cheated on his wife with the wife's sister apparently. Maya pondered at the complexity of such a situation, but couldn't empathize completely. He had recently suffered a stroke, and was left paralyzed in a semi-conscious state due to cocaine addiction. (was the popular rumor). His broke 75 year old father is still wheeling him around. Maybe Alanis Morisette should've quoted this example instead of rain on a wedding day.

Her mom peeped in. She shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She enjoyed the numbness and the glorious sensation of being feeling-less for a second. Her mom left. And the turmoil took on tidal wave proportions. Where the crashed and wrecked and and suffused the sheet with more sorrow and wetness. She had the creepy feeling of going completely psycho. Collective images, impulses once again rocked her and she felt no control of her senses. She could feel it, yet felt surprisingly sane. A small giggle escaped her lips. Do people still smile when they are psycho? Or are mad people portrayed so?

She felt like being promiscuous and briefly annoyed at her mom’s snide comment about not wearing clothes to show off one’s assets. Like I’ve ever done that in my life, she thought. She still felt like being promiscuous. And, stuff had happened very slightly the last time. She couldn’t go forward with it though. The pain engulfed her once more, all thoughts of promiscuity wiped out.

Why was the internet not working again? Nice timing, she thought. The internet was her refuge. Where talking to people helped her stop thinking of the pain. Like some kind of matrix-like-world where people and feelings doesn’t exist. She often wrapped the blanket of anonymosity of the internet around her. Where was it now?

Maya stared outside the window. The avalanche of snow and rain and dirt had settled down meaningfully well in her head. layers of it. layers and layers. countless layers. She could see it clearly. She knew her nights were going to wreck her insides even worse than before. She predicted that something would never be quite the same again. She wouldn’t never trust another person with same kind of shining naïve innocence she kept for few. She had a few droplets of hope left. A far cry from the many bucketfuls she carried around in her bubble. She still holds on it like a security blanket. But, constantly aware that it can be snatched away and she left naked. Thoughts of promiscuity took hold of her again. Almost, like a cover for her future naked-ness. She prepared herself for nakedness.

Er, for more updates on Maya’s fucked up life.. watch this space!!

Named English August, as the incongruity of existence of the main character in the novel is comparable.

These days

Sometimes I feel like some words have been said so many times that their meaning exausts all possible interpretation. Those are the only times words fail me. When making an effort, doesn't make any difference whatsoever. These times are particularly frusturating and baffling as I'm left cornered by a wall made up of unvent emotion.

Today I was talking to Camel and saying how people console when somebody dies by saying (in a book or a movie or for real) the ones we truly love will never leave us and blah blah. Sounds kinda crappy, but I believe so. Nobody died, but I feel the same anyway. So I decided to let go.

This time the post title come from a Bon Jovi song from the album of the same name. I think one of the most underrated Bon Jovi albums and one which means A LOT to me. I'm generally not a one band person. I also skip from band to band pretty quickly. But, till now Bon Jovi has not stopped sounding awesome. He always makes me stuck in this alternate universe. Nice to get lost in it..

Hollow years

Have your ever felt despair? desperation? do they mean the same thing? Ok if this was a quick come n go kinda feeling it'd have been a lot easier to handle. I think despair is more momentary than desperation. Think mine is the latter. I don't think nobody can get what I'm feeling and its so frustrating to feel that. I don't have much to talk about in here except my feelings. I wish I had a story to share. Some thoughts. Oh yeah, i do actually. A friend of mine recently had a stalker in the form of an old lover. He was actually stalking her! and I was like part of the whole drama. It even got amusedly filmy when he threated to commit suicide if she didn't get back together with him. Which left me wondering how anybody can say such things to force the person back into his life. It sounds so incredibly selfish to me. But then I can't judge coz I don't know what levels of desperation the person went thru. There's the word again. Is it ok to say things like that just coz your in despair? Maybe its some twisted mind game to get the person back. What if saying that made the person come back and things turned out for the better? Is it a selfish or clever thing to say? Desperation is relative, is it? Just coz I cant feel the desperation of that person, that makes it not okay for him to say that! So if I understood his desperation, would I understand him saying that. Ok, now I've hit a dead wall. So I'm going back to work now. But, desperation still remains. Looks like this blog is gonna turn out to be just what I didnt-want-it-to-be after all.

Hollow years by Dream Theater recco'd by Tazz. Amazing song. One of the few songs where I like the beginning and the verse more than the chorus. Totally buried the song in my memory, but recently heard the band play it live at Chinese and Thai Cafe. I think its one of the more melodious songs by Dream Theater.

Feeling good

i feel a weird tingling sensation
i feel terribly betrayed.
i feel unsettled
i feel incapable of listening to any music as everything sounds too painful.
i feel insanely missing mom
i feel sick
i feel worried
i feel numb
i feel some kinda overpowering sadness
i feel inadequate
i feel like the earlier sense of happy fullness was snatched away from me
i feel pissed
i feel capable of bursting into tears any given moment
i feel in control all the same
i feel left in the lurch
i feel like i need a break
i feel like i need someone who values me
i feel like there is a log on my neck. physically.
i feel capable of writing but i rather vent
i feel let down by me
i feel stuck in a box
i feel trapped
i feel ignored
i feel spaced out
i feel like not working
i feel like running on a treadmill for miles n miles. thats a first.
i feel like vodka

Bend and Break

Today, the string broke. It used be a thickly coiled, rough and sturdy, fibrous kinda rope. The kind people tie around a tree to pull it down. There was a lot of wear and tear of course. The rope never had it easy. In fact thats a terrible understatement. Maybe it was all the constant tugging. Or all the rain and shine and weather changes the rope had witnessed. Towards the end, the old rope had it hard, it shrunk and groaned its way all through the end. Some months had seen it on its very last string. The last string provided some comfort and relief to the old rope. Like a faithful son. It told of the ropes great legacy left behind. It aptly represented all what the old rope used to be in good measure. Now it was gonna be its last witness to the rope's life. But bit by bit, the string too finally got shredded away to nothing. Empty. Non existent. Space.

Bend and break by Keane sounds suspiciously like Travis, if you didn't know which band was singing the song. Once used to be on my list of Sector 56 to office travel songs.

Mango Tree

I just discovered my favorite video ever. I love the picturization.. its so nostalgic and magical. like something out of my head.

I wish I had a mango tree
In my backyard
With you standin next to me
Take the picture
From her lips I heard her say
Can I have you
Caught up on what to say
I said you do

I said you do
I said you do

Through my eyes I can see
A shooting star
Weavn its way across the sea
Somewhere from mars
Down the street we would run
To scratch our names in the path
Young and free in the sun
Wheels upon the tar
I said you do
I said you do
I said you do
I said you do

Quelqu'un M'a Dit

I love you like a dew drop kissing an early morning petal
I love you like the hand which tucks the strand behind my ear
I love you like the beams of sun which hit me in winter cold
I love you like a stroke of vermilion bold

I love you like a dream amongst many
I love you like a lucky penny
I love you like an unshed tear
I love you like a moment so dear

I love you like a crazy urge
I love you like a boat in the deluge
I love you like the tingling left behind in a kiss
I love you like the feel of home so much i miss

Though between us lay uncountable miles of terrain
All that I hold with much disdain
Melt away as soon as I remember you
The hope I treasure with indomitable fire
springs forth for you, my desire

We may be lovers no more, but the mention of your name so sweet
Brings a heady rush of high unto my feet
As i stay here and do my mundane chores
All i ask is to love me more
So it may cumulate into all that one day
For you to ask me to forever stay.

Just for the record and inspired by Quelqu'un M'a Dit. watch it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsUlSvtziXU