watch her crumble
she was so hard
then came the tears
turned her brittle
how she wails
she Screams
it hurts
She screams and screams and screams
please make her stop, before she
watch her crumble
she is powder
dust
gone
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
dont ask me
it takes only a few minutes of idle thought to make one realise that there is nothing.
we live.
we die.
if anyone really gets that. they cannot move on.
it is absolutely impossible.
they must stop. and change.
if anyone really gets the size of this existence.
the lack of reason.
the uncertainity.
the grief. the absence of meaning.
if anyone stops to think. hard.
i suppose its really a good thing that people are absorbed in the ratrace.
in their cooking. in their grades. fights. parties. discounts. tv shows. whatnot
if everyone realised what some do. inadvertently by mistake.
they might kill themselves. not realising how they contribute
to the general nothingness that way.
or they might let go. and Decide to live. for what life might actually be.
if there is a reason.
if it is to have meaning.
we live.
we die.
if anyone really gets that. they cannot move on.
it is absolutely impossible.
they must stop. and change.
if anyone really gets the size of this existence.
the lack of reason.
the uncertainity.
the grief. the absence of meaning.
if anyone stops to think. hard.
i suppose its really a good thing that people are absorbed in the ratrace.
in their cooking. in their grades. fights. parties. discounts. tv shows. whatnot
if everyone realised what some do. inadvertently by mistake.
they might kill themselves. not realising how they contribute
to the general nothingness that way.
or they might let go. and Decide to live. for what life might actually be.
if there is a reason.
if it is to have meaning.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
psychogirl I
what do you call a girl who spends half an hour thinking about whether those who love her still would if she were to one morning shrink to one fifth her normal size?
.. more on psychogirl.. soon..
understatement
heart break
.
heart torn out stamped upon cut into uneven little pieces some fed to dogs and others burnt crisp and rolled in mud.
.
now youre getting somewhere.
.
heart torn out stamped upon cut into uneven little pieces some fed to dogs and others burnt crisp and rolled in mud.
.
now youre getting somewhere.
Friday, October 13, 2006
dont push me
me. psycho. soon to be.
people here driving me crazy.
want a gun.
to shoot someone.
wont at all be sorry.
people here driving me crazy.
want a gun.
to shoot someone.
wont at all be sorry.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
tickles test
i took a tickles test (yes) to find out my true talent.
took me half hour. answering questions.
what is my true talent you ask?
NUMERICAL it says.
Numerical.
mm.
numerical.
fahk
Apparently numbers are closest to my heart.
Apparently I should've taken up math or something related for a career.
Apparently I have to pay 25$ for a 30 page detailed report on my numerical skills.
The toughest question in the test follows:
6/? = ?/54
a) 2
b) 234
c) 18
d) 11
did you answer 18?
guess what. your true talent is NUMERICAL.
sigh. i must go work
took me half hour. answering questions.
what is my true talent you ask?
NUMERICAL it says.
Numerical.
mm.
numerical.
fahk
Apparently numbers are closest to my heart.
Apparently I should've taken up math or something related for a career.
Apparently I have to pay 25$ for a 30 page detailed report on my numerical skills.
The toughest question in the test follows:
6/? = ?/54
a) 2
b) 234
c) 18
d) 11
did you answer 18?
guess what. your true talent is NUMERICAL.
sigh. i must go work
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
kitchen set
Saturday, September 16, 2006
little girl
little girl
she asks herself
am I dying
am I dying
am I dying
little girl
she kills herself
asking
she is young
she is nice
but she must stop asking
for there is no answer to her query.
yet I must try
to die one must live
I tell her
she smiles and she forgets
I cannot help her
she asks herself
am I dying
am I dying
am I dying
little girl
she kills herself
asking
she is young
she is nice
but she must stop asking
for there is no answer to her query.
yet I must try
to die one must live
I tell her
she smiles and she forgets
I cannot help her
Friday, September 08, 2006
stereogram
something i adored when i was a kid.
autostereograms. or just stereograms
or simpler still. magic photos as i used to call them
ok .. autostereograms it is then.
anyway I was saying.. something i adored when i was a kid
why you ask?
a. theyre fun. you never know what image is going to pop out at you.
b. hardly any of the other kids (idyuts) could see what I so clearly could... ahem.
c. ok.. there is no c.
try this.
starter tips: you are supposed to do a squinty starey thing at the mush of colours and *pop* you see a 3d image. C o n c e n t r a t e
(if im not helpful try this <-- link )

well?
do you see it?
No it is not flamingoes.
or sharks or water falls.
It is an image of three interlocked rings!!
ta daa.
Well I see it...
autostereograms. or just stereograms
or simpler still. magic photos as i used to call them
ok .. autostereograms it is then.
anyway I was saying.. something i adored when i was a kid
why you ask?
a. theyre fun. you never know what image is going to pop out at you.
b. hardly any of the other kids (idyuts) could see what I so clearly could... ahem.
c. ok.. there is no c.
try this.
starter tips: you are supposed to do a squinty starey thing at the mush of colours and *pop* you see a 3d image. C o n c e n t r a t e
(if im not helpful try this <-- link )

well?
do you see it?
No it is not flamingoes.
or sharks or water falls.
It is an image of three interlocked rings!!
ta daa.
Well I see it...
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Speak of me
Start now, go on.
Speak of me.
See how I listen. Sense my joy
As you speak of me
Tell me what my world is.
Tell me what my smile means.
Tell me what I look like. Why I say what I do and think the way I do.
Speak of me.
I will believe it to be true.
If it feels like I want it to be.
Speak of my love
For you, for him, for them, for none
My dreams, dreamt to come true
My tears, shed for sleep
To speak of me,
Passionately, sadly, through music, words
Who am I to you
I will believe it to be true, if it feels like I want it to be.
I know not myself, only you know me.
Speak of me.
See how I listen. Sense my joy
As you speak of me
Tell me what my world is.
Tell me what my smile means.
Tell me what I look like. Why I say what I do and think the way I do.
Speak of me.
I will believe it to be true.
If it feels like I want it to be.
Speak of my love
For you, for him, for them, for none
My dreams, dreamt to come true
My tears, shed for sleep
To speak of me,
Passionately, sadly, through music, words
Who am I to you
I will believe it to be true, if it feels like I want it to be.
I know not myself, only you know me.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Claustrophobia
You built walls
Nice. sturdy. strong. walls
You needed support
Just support?
No.
You needed protection
You needed to keep people away
to keep people in
You needed something to do
So you built walls
Around you.
One day. you realise.
You are walled in.
You have been walled in for quite a while now.
Still - You lived in blissful ignorance.
Now you see them
The wonderful walls.
Confining you.
You choke. You scream
You cry.
You cannot break them
For they were not simply built with bricks and cement.
They were built with strange things. in varying proportions.
Strange things.
Boredom. Desperation. Love
Nice. sturdy. strong. walls
You needed support
Just support?
No.
You needed protection
You needed to keep people away
to keep people in
You needed something to do
So you built walls
Around you.
One day. you realise.
You are walled in.
You have been walled in for quite a while now.
Still - You lived in blissful ignorance.
Now you see them
The wonderful walls.
Confining you.
You choke. You scream
You cry.
You cannot break them
For they were not simply built with bricks and cement.
They were built with strange things. in varying proportions.
Strange things.
Boredom. Desperation. Love
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
fragile
she woke up
she stepped out of herself and saw the world for what it was.
what she called reality was a translucent dream.
she could see through it.
into what
the truth she says. she hears herself say.
the truth
that she has been living in a dream.
those she loved were illusions.
fragments.
wisps.
they do not exist.
they will leave soon.
she will leave them soon.
she is confused.
if reality is not real.
what
'ignorance was bliss' she hears herself think.
if that could be called ignorance.
she felt like she did when lying back on the grass and looking up at the night sky.
how endless it seemed.
what lay beyond all those stars planets galaxies. wondering
mind slipping.
fear
of death ?
she stepped out of herself and saw the world for what it was.
what she called reality was a translucent dream.
she could see through it.
into what
the truth she says. she hears herself say.
the truth
that she has been living in a dream.
those she loved were illusions.
fragments.
wisps.
they do not exist.
they will leave soon.
she will leave them soon.
she is confused.
if reality is not real.
what
'ignorance was bliss' she hears herself think.
if that could be called ignorance.
she felt like she did when lying back on the grass and looking up at the night sky.
how endless it seemed.
what lay beyond all those stars planets galaxies. wondering
mind slipping.
fear
of death ?
Friday, May 12, 2006
elephant festival

i spent a whole day watching the elephant festival on kairali.
what a kick!
let me explain.
no no. i insist.
there are two rows of grandly dressed elephants. facing each other. across a good distance of course. each row outside a temple.
there are three men on top of each elephant. holding up umbrellas.
it be a competition. yes! a competition where each team (each row is a team) puts up new umbrellas. and the team with the most imaginative and wonderful umbrellas wins.
wins what i dont quite know. sorry
irrelevant question anyway. the excitement is what counts. and the brilliant umbrellas. shaped like Gods lamps trees and flowers.
they just keep putting them up. and the crowd goes wild.
this be the elephant festival. takes place in thrissur.
trust mallus to come up with something this random. man. elephants and umbrellas (ohh and music. crazy temple drums. wild rhythmic beating)
add a couple of Gods to it. its a festival!
life is beautiful yes?
Monday, May 01, 2006
why
Ive never been incredibly enthusiastic about going to america.
but then. my family went ahead and planned a nice trip. spent an amount of money.
got all excited.
I must admit.
got me all excited.
disneyland.
anyway. got all excited. booked everything. all that remained was the visa.
we were certain there could be no good reason for rejecting us. this time
first. long queue under chennai sun.
second. long queue in a small room with some hundred people. two fans. no water.
third. long queue to interview.
then Mr. Mark Fry walks in. looks around. asks everyone to sit down. started speaking
*onetightslap*
I wanted to give him.
he took on this condescending tone. went on to act like all of us were filthy black impoverished indians who were flocking to his beautiful perfect America out of desperation. salvation.
he then proceeded to teach us good manners. how to greet the interviewers. how to speak to them. how to smile the whole while. and if rejected to walk away calmly. no questions asked.
and then. adding insult to injury.
a guy stands up and starts praising him. he says "Mr. Mark Fry I love your attitude. I like you. I want to be like you. thank you enlightening us poor third world village bums."
ok he didnt quite put it that way. but you get the drift.
I felt humiliated.
cheap.
worst of all.
inferior.
I had to go through that. for what? nothing. all that was in store next was some american woman rejecting just my visa.
why?
she does not have to say. US immigration laws.
mysterious wonderful US immigration laws.
waste of money. waste of time. disappointment
fuck them
but then. my family went ahead and planned a nice trip. spent an amount of money.
got all excited.
I must admit.
got me all excited.
disneyland.
anyway. got all excited. booked everything. all that remained was the visa.
we were certain there could be no good reason for rejecting us. this time
first. long queue under chennai sun.
second. long queue in a small room with some hundred people. two fans. no water.
third. long queue to interview.
then Mr. Mark Fry walks in. looks around. asks everyone to sit down. started speaking
*onetightslap*
I wanted to give him.
he took on this condescending tone. went on to act like all of us were filthy black impoverished indians who were flocking to his beautiful perfect America out of desperation. salvation.
he then proceeded to teach us good manners. how to greet the interviewers. how to speak to them. how to smile the whole while. and if rejected to walk away calmly. no questions asked.
and then. adding insult to injury.
a guy stands up and starts praising him. he says "Mr. Mark Fry I love your attitude. I like you. I want to be like you. thank you enlightening us poor third world village bums."
ok he didnt quite put it that way. but you get the drift.
I felt humiliated.
cheap.
worst of all.
inferior.
I had to go through that. for what? nothing. all that was in store next was some american woman rejecting just my visa.
why?
she does not have to say. US immigration laws.
mysterious wonderful US immigration laws.
waste of money. waste of time. disappointment
fuck them
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Monday, April 17, 2006
beautiful
it touches you deep inside. grabs your heart and gives it a little shake.
it suffocates you. tears flow. and yet you are smiling helplessly. inside outside.
you think
the meaning of life. meaning of existence. meaning.
it brings meaning to almost everything. meaning to whatever it touches.
no. it does not always bring happiness. not even satisfaction.
it overwhelms you. a mere undefinable overwhelming feeling. a feeling that fills you.
takes over.
yearn.
you crave more. you feel deeply.
you cry.
so beautiful
you must break away.
before it grabs hold.
move on
it suffocates you. tears flow. and yet you are smiling helplessly. inside outside.
you think
the meaning of life. meaning of existence. meaning.
it brings meaning to almost everything. meaning to whatever it touches.
no. it does not always bring happiness. not even satisfaction.
it overwhelms you. a mere undefinable overwhelming feeling. a feeling that fills you.
takes over.
yearn.
you crave more. you feel deeply.
you cry.
so beautiful
you must break away.
before it grabs hold.
move on
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)





