Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Hate mail to blogger, almost?

I don't know if I love or hate the new look blogger's tried to pull off. I definitely hate the dashboard with a passion, but the draft area is a dream come true, too much love. So this post was going to be a hate mail to blogger cause I happen to be one of those loyal bloggers who come back here to crib about life, and so, I don't like it when my personal space is fiddled with. AND THEN they put up a stupid video they want us to go through just to figure out how this shit works. WELL, THANKS for the inconvenience which your Youtube video totally does not solve. I still feel orphaned. Old Blogger was classic. But yea okay, you bribed me well with the beautiful beautiful draft space. ugh.

So hello! Ideally this was supposed to be a fiction post, just to be on roll with the poem and everything. But no, I decided to head back home and rant about nothing. Joy, innit? (quick swigs of martinis will help you listen up, go ahead, I know you want it.) So the last ten days have been slightly horrible, the kind of horrible that's squished big black ants on your new green neon notebook. (The horror.) I was sick with fever high, and a behemothic assignment that was almost the death of me. Might I add, it's finally done with and if the professor does not give me ace grade then... well, I can't do shit, but I'll give her a dirty look. (Stop slowly clapping man, no dissing at me on my blog.)

I know I'm blabbering some seriously unnecessary BS, but I'm in such a mood. Today was just about OK. College was...a lot of classes. =|  (yea Guinz, I know that's 'your smilie'.) Yeah guys, my friends copyright on smilies. It's alright, we all have our...differences. Anyhoo, so I just got done with bugging Rob on skype for centuries together. Mind you, his face looks like a poster cause his internet sucks, not mine. (stop rolling your eyes, Rob.) So much for China being techno-big. Pffft. (Bored look, people.)

Tomorrow's going to be a busy day. I have to somehow be at two places at the same time. I have my submissions and Vanta's art exhibition at the same time. My presence at both places is indispensable. Okay, no. I'm just trying to feel important, but my presence at both places will be appreciated, nevertheless.

On a completely unrelated note, did you know if you lifted kangaroo's tail, it can't hop? And that heart attacks are more likely to happen on Mondays? :O So now that I really have nothing to talk about, I think I'll just go. I have no assignment or job for the night, so I'm just going to go be cool. B)

If you've honestly read through this yet another pointless rant of mine, you should really realize the kind of elation that loyal followers like you give me. Jesus bless yer souls, and I'll save your sanity with a sensible fiction coming up in the next post, my word! 

Good night, World.

P.s- Oh my god, I just want to keep writing. This draft space is so beautifullllll.
P.p.s- I just wanted to write some more. kthnxbye.
P.p.p.s- I did it again. 

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Dark Room.

Dark Room.

Let's play Dark Room,
where I try to find you,
with devoid cheating with the shadows,
or the Christmas lights that blink too often.

Let's play Dark Room,
let me find you. 

In this dark room of mine,
I find myself in the middle of a sunny day,
when the back of our shirts were wet,
and our throats parched,
from all the laughter that rang louder than the heat,
I find that day in my dark room, tonight. 

The corner of the bed,
oh, how innocent tonight? 
Useless air occupying space,
there aren't any green bottles standing drunk,
though I find your hiccups hanging in the air,
I find our drunk tales,
in my dark room, tonight. 

A poor blue shirt hangs on my chair,
since tonight you aren't complaining,
no complaints about its creaky legs to give away,
no complaints about a fall,
none tonight.
Though, I find the day you did,
I find that afternoon in my dark room. 

If walls could talk,
they'd be silent tonight, they'd weep instead.
They'd want to find every season,
every evening, and every dusk,
when you created a moment here,
in this room that's dark tonight,

Let's play Dark Room,
let me please find you. 


Horrible after midnight mood swing. Kindly excuse the abruptness of such strange poetry but at ungodly hours  as such, the mind is usually not at command. Some times, all you need is just one moment. 


Monday, September 10, 2012

I'm the baffled king.

Greetings to my readers from India, Russia, France, Ukraine, United States, United Kingdom, Thailand, Malaysia, Spain, Mexico and Jordan! (Well, according to my Blogger Stats for the day anyway.)
And a big, frantic hand wave to everybody out there who's reading this up right now. =)

Life's been pretty darn hectic. 8:50 am classes everyday in the morning have coerced me to sleep every walking talking minute when I have the time, that is. I get free from college soonly, but then I have society practices which are making me run up the wall, too. In between all of that, add in hour long metro rides to and fro, chills with homies, some sulking and some thing or the other that crops up eventually.
OH, and let's not forget the DUSU elections which have resulted in mobs of angry (not so much), young college students yelling their lungs and throats out onto the road and into our ears (ew, too visual?) and shoving pamphlets with a zillion candidate names into our mouth (well almost anyway) with the most formal smiles. (If that's even possible?)

Mostly, I have pretty good days, and I'm spared the horror of days such as today which by all means and in all practicality sucked monkey balls. By the end of the day, I almost crawled back home on all of my fours. I can't remember, it's all blurry, that memory... (Okay, over doing it.)
One of the   The only high point of my day was the brown package from Flipkart that was waiting for me at home, nicely sitting on my bed. I had ordered Mitch Albom's latest; The Time Keeper.
Thus, we all know who's my date tonight.
Look at him, isn't he preeeeeeedy? =)

cool purple specs win win, eh?

In other news, I got my first two assignments for this semester. Which means I should really stop treating my books like pillows and get crackin'.  -,-
This week is going to be tragic and awesome. Don't ask me why. Long story. Not blog material. And muchings of drafts saved up to (hopefully) be published soon. 
On a completely unrelated note, I've been craving to go out for a photoshoot. I can't decide on a place/ theme. Any suggestions? 

So yes. I think I'm done ranting here about the trivialities of my immodestly significant life. I shall cut you lovelies some slack and catch you here next week, with some fiction, perhaps =)
Good night, my date and a bowl of cereals be waiting. 

Much loving and wishful sighs for Cheesecake,

Sunday, September 2, 2012


Your suitcase is going to have that sticker when you're at the airport, right? I want to be that sticker. I want to be a part of that suitcase that you packed from home, that has that book you kept asking me for but ended up buying instead, that has the orange shirt that has the cologne on from last night's farewell, that has the black bow tie I always wanted to see you in, and the little black diary of yours that's tucked away into a chain.

I want to be a part of that box of home that you're carrying to a new land. I want to sit next to you when you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for your flight to take off. You've been waiting too long to escape this place, haven't you? The ticket in your breast pocket was the one shot you needed, it turned out to be the one shot you finally got.
I want to be standing right there when you step out of the aircraft and see the new city for the first time, when your mind has no curfews and you're all set to run... I want to start running with you.
I want to be sitting across the table, when you have your first breakfast away from the round table with a red and white checkered table cloth back home.
I want to see you quietly put a letter you received a day back at the bed side drawer, I want to see you read it, again. I want to be the last full stop, on that letter.

I want to be each and every stamp on your passport. I want to be every single crinkled bus ticket that stays in the pockets of your jean. I want to count your change while you tip off the waiter at the cult cafes around the world, I want to share the binoculars you see through to see the horizon complementing your new terrace. I want to be the coin you toss in your first wishing well in Europe and I want to be the chop sticks you use so proficiently for Sushi.

I want to feel your pulse as each and every second becomes an experience.

However, I see the ends of your trousers flapping through the gust of air that comes in while you board the plane, and your suitcase goes away with you, while the Fragile sticker stays on with me.


(P.s- I promise and update post, next. I'll spare you the perpetual after-midnight- Fiction OD.)