daily rhyme and reason

Sweet bun maska

I won’t dip you in tea

I’ll just eat you up

All buttery

***

Oh memorandum, how many times

Will I have to revise you?

Oh dear client, I’m wasting my time

trying so hard to advise you

Why won’t you just google it

Why won’t you just see

Your questions lack common sense

They don’t qualify as legal queries

Yes, but still ..

Oh alright,

I Know how much you pay me.

(fool)

***

Why colourful post its

Do i love you so

You come in all colours and sizes

Some funky shapes too

Even if a page is of no consequence

I stick on one of you

But sometimes, I’ll admit dear post its

I worry that I misuse you

***

I have a friend who’s disappeared

Off the face of my world

I miss that friend sometimes but then

what to do, my ego is hurt

and I’ve known my ego for longer.

***

How exciting it is to possess

A sexy brand new dress

That i haven’t worn yet

That no one has seen yet

How very super exciting

***

Impatience is no virtue

Alright, I lack the ability to wait for anything I know I want. Biding is not my thing. I cannot bide. Kick stupid biding in the ass. Biding is overrated.

I want now. I want everything I want, now. I know this about myself, and yet, sometimes (quite idiotically) I try and convince myself to not think of what I want or to think I don’t want something I do want.

Well (surprise!) I end up wanting it more. If I wasn’t sure before, my dumbass idea of persuading myself against it backfires repeatedly, to ensure that I think (no, I Know) that I Need whatever it was I only Wanted before.

So I don’t like biding. I don’t like abiding much either. But that’s a different story. Not to say I’m some cool reckless - live it up - girl. I do bide and abide, a lot. But only after some terrific moments of anger frustration almost not biding or abiding some arguments with myself and mental (who am I kidding) ok physical restraint(s).

Alright, so I am clearly an affected party of this allergy I have to biding. But there are those who are affected more. These are the people from whom I ‘expect’. Man.

I ‘expect’ a lot, from a few people. I ‘expect’ quite thoroughly and (I convince myself) quite reasonably. I understand my mind can’t be read. But I assume, given that I’m very vocal about what I want, the expectees would buck-up a bit. Clearly, these expectees almost always have better things to do in life than to ensure that I have whatever I want.

I get angry, throw tantrums and then finally settle for biding.

I hate stupid biding.

Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

camera-shy meter

was working fine.

but after one blurry shot

bleek

Take your marie biscuit life,

take your plain jane designs

For your future and your wife,

for your planned and sexy life

and throw it out the window.

If it is that much simple now,

sir, it will get too much complicated.

Murthy's law.

are we human or are we dancer

Silly song, but I like it. The Killers. Plays at TGIF all the time. I'm usually high by the third time the song comes on. I like it.

are we human

or are we dancer

my signs are vital

my hands are cold

I'm on my knees

looking for the answer

are we human

or are we dancer

In an interview with Rolling Stone, Flowers said that he was irritated over the confusion about the lyrics and also that fans were unhappy with the song's dance beat: "It's supposed to be a dance song, [the beat] goes with the chorus...If you can't put that together, you're an idiot. I just don't get why there's a confusion about it."

Well Mr. Flowers. It's a silly song. Don't get all bent up about it. I like it.

You could've tried

Are we human

or are we Lancer

the cars were sexy

and they're now so old

I was driving one,

then I got the answer

Must be human

to drive a Lancer

No?

I'm going nuts. The song is good though. I like it.

new poster

So this is a poster I bought yesterday - which I had been looking for forever. Ever since a friend first put up this painting as wallpaper on her computer. Super kicked.

Its 'The Kiss' by Gustav Klimt.

Not the best photo yes.

saved by circumstance

I don't believe I have given enough credit to how much I have been saved by circumstance in the past year.

Never in my life have there been so many mistakes just waiting to be committed, but somehow, it seems like the universe in a gi-normous effort to save my ass (I wouldn't call it a conspiracy - that is usually coming together for an evil purpose - this was an all in all thankgoodness purpose), created circumstance which literally forced me to make no mistakes.

Possible, that I would have made the right choices anyway. But sometimes, its good to have someone absolutely ensuring that you have no way but the right way to go. None of my friends could have played that role. Not my family. That's where I let myself feel happy thinking there's someone else out there watching out for and over the very-human me.

It was the equivalent of an intervention. A much needed one. and it has worked.

Bring on the forces of ugly,

which bring with them inglorious shame

Maybe I’ve hidden my beauty,

behind my walls of rage

Maybe I’ve lost what you once found,

my love, what you helped create

I am no longer your wondrous anyone

No smile breaks my fall from grace

Say goodbye to me now, look me in the eye

Look at my ugly face

I hope you never see it again

due diligence adventure / Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

It's wednesday. Crap. Do not have any new photos to put up. Crap.

crap crap. um. hmm.

alright, I apologise, here's a photo I took of the Latur airport. In running for the 'cutest airport ever' title.

vote? no?

I'd gone on a due diligence to Latur (don't ask). Its in Maharashtra, somewhere. Kingfisher has flights to and from Latur (not regular, but heck). The people from the company we had to conduct our due diligence on, decided we must first check out their godowns and cold storage units (because they were super proud of them).

Here.

Its pretty cute. The whole trip was. We went to the PVR there (yes) to watch pyar impossible (yes), a ten thirty show (hm.) four women (aha.) yes.

Well, we were a bit scared when getting out. But all ended well.

Our hotel rooms were, well a bit of a blast from the past for me. You see, my family does a lot of temple visiting trips. If you guys have done these trips you will be familiar with what I'm about to go on about. Medimix soap hotels. In these trips you unfailingly stay in a medimix soap hotel. Which is essential a 'hotel' with the barest of minimums. Its got the one sheet. One scratchy rug. One scratchy towel. and. unfailingly again (nice word). A medimix soap.

We stayed in a medimix soap hotel.

Here

Ok, before you judge me for what I'm about to say - please note, the curtains are made of velvet, they're dark and heavy (and musty) and the airconditioner was making these KREEA CH SQUELCH noises and dropping water all over the bed.

Well, after the movie, I came back to this room, had to sleep in it alone. There were, needless to say, a hundred unheard of noises, which could be heard over and above the damned airconditioner. Then there were shadows behind the velvety horror movie curtains.

Got scared out of my wits. Slept for two hours in all. With the lights on.

The next day the sweet company people took us for lunch at the fanciest hotel in Latur and packed us off into our trains headed Mumbai with Loads and Loads of sweets and snackies.

the end.

baglove.

this bag and I go a long way

in the opposite directions.

When will I have you. When will you be mine.

Would you believe I depressed myself with great success with the help of just this bag. An entire day went down the drain starting with this fucker. I realised I would never spend the amount of money it takes to get one of these. No matter how much I earn (at the rate I'm going now) (not taking into account any lottery wins / surprise lost and found uncle inheritance)(then I'll buy).

Well Prada, we'll always have China.

my sharona

Apparently Sandra Bullock’s character observes in The Net,

“Human beings define their reality through suffering and misery.”

What a happy thought. Stinky upsetting movie line.

***

'Happiness is a silly creature, when you stop paying attention to yours it runs off and wraps itself around someone else. Nothing can describe that mildly icky feeling of having your Happiness wrapped, revolving and trapped around someone else.'

Sandra Bullock, say that, come on. How about in a cute movie with Hugh Grant? Actually he should say it, he's the one who can pull it off.

***

The spell check on my post thing is not recognising the word 'movie'. what?

***

When much younger I used to listen to the song "my sharona" by The Knack. I used to imagine being able to play the guitar to that song and getting any boy to be mine.

A lot of life revolved around boys, when it didn't revolve around books or music or day dreaming. Well, all interconnected.

***

Come on, my sharona? the movie Reality Bites? Ethan Hawke?

Here are the lyrics: don't judge me.

Ooh my little pretty one, pretty one.
When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?
Ooh you make my motor run, my motor run.
Gun it comin' off the line Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up.
Such a dirty mind. Always get it up for the touch
of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo. M M M My Sharona...

Come a little closer huh, ah will ya huh.
Close enough to look in my eyes, Sharona.
Keeping it a mystery gets to me
Running down the length of my thighs, Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up. Such a dirty mind.
Always get it up for the touch
of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo. M M M My Sharona...

When you gonna give it to me, give it to me.
It is just a matter of time Sharona
Is it just destiny, destiny?
Or is it just a game in my mind, Sharona?
Never gonna stop, give it up.
Such a dirty mind. Always get it up for the touch
of the younger kind. My my my i yi woo. M M M My Sharona...

***

In my defence, I didn't know most of the lyrics then. Honest, it was the guitar.

perv.

Photo of the (Wednes)day

Yes, I know, its Thursday.

These are photos I took when I first got to Bombay last July. I was in a cab, and it was pouring. To me the windows looked like art. The photos were taken with a Motorola phone camera (so, well).

make that plan

Tomorrow lets visit the bloody zoo

I'll watch them silly monkeys eat bananas, with you

We'll buy overpriced chips and hold oily hands

We'll get hot and grumbly, and roll up our pants.

you scream a little at me, I yell a lot at you

Continue walking around trying to find the giraffes

Then ask the ice-cream guy who says there are no giraffes

But he has vadilal chocobars

anyway, who needs those dumb giraffes

Not close to being the best idea ever

But it's necessary we visit the bloody zoo together.

Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

Meet the dream team of handsome fire fighting lego men

Here's one running to the rescue

Here's one getting the fire extinguisher, all decked up

And, here's one who lost his head and drove Raju, the station cat, up a tree

Well.

Every set has a crazy.

Not to worry folks, all ended well for Raju, the cat.

Sadly, the same can't be said for Raju, the fireman.

****

There was something I wanted to do with these photos, but haven't had the time and well, the inclination mostly went out the window. If it ever returns, you'll see it here soon.

enter the hoopler (not dragon)

hello shiney eyes, hello crazy hair,

welcome to our life you kook, took you long enough to get here.

zoozoocide.

I hate zoozoos.

Hate their name. that bloody 'language' they speak. how they look.

Everytime I see them on tv I feel like ripping my sim card out of my phone and eating it.

(yes I have vodafone. Its the only connection that works in Mumbai)

That one ad, where the dumb zoozoo jumps into a tiger's cage - I'm all "EAT THE ZOOZOO sweet tiger" "Go on kitty". They don't show you that, but I feel happy thinking there's no way that zoozoo could've escaped being eaten by sweet tiger in that tiny little cage.

:)

Everyone loves zoozoos.

Why.

They are idiotic irritating nincompoops.

In fact, if I hate you, I'll call you a bloody zoozoo.

I bought a dupatta today

It took me twenty minutes to get a cab to go to the shop

It took me thirty minutes to choose from very many dupattas the shop had to offer

But I believe I have found the dupatta I was looking for

Well they said buy it or leave now, we shut at eight

Nice dupatta still

Then I made the mistake of taking a cab home.

I got stuck in traffic. For hours

It was very hot and I was very tired

The cab was pretty stinky.

Some people find the word stinky pretty cute

What, its true. There are people who do.

I happen to be one of those people.

HA.

Stinky. Hello there little stinky.

Its a pretty cute word, I could have a dog named stinky.

I won't have a dog, so that's ok.

Really felt like getting some nonsense out of my head and system.

Feels good to have somewhere to put it anyway.

I never really like getting rid of anything completely

credit

what a grumpy old

what a complete bore

let's all move from this here anonymous

let's try a frame and some pose

smile like you don't mean it, it smiles more

gather your horses and some goat

just some goat

try me for some fun, try her on for size

she fits you like a rubber duck

I mean she doesn't

what do you want me to say darling

i make sense but we don't

i make good sambar but you don't

don't jump out the window and ruin my view

clean my fan instead, please

i just cannot bring myself to do it, and the dirt is all over my bed

clean my fan, so I don't worry

for my white sheets and curtains

the cushions can go rot.

Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

Hello pretty yellow flowers

Uh oh

Watch out for the yellow lady

watch out for Mala

and out they go

Don't smile yet

She'll come for you tomorrow

****

(photos taken on a Wednesday afternoon at home)

No harm done

It was not the first time she’d allowed her mind to take her to another world;

the trip always familiar and comforting.

She knew her heart and mind had conspired and created these parallels to her life,

assuring her that these worlds would stay in her head,

that they would buffer her sanity, absorb the hit when it hit.

The point was forgotten, that after one visit too many

the very heart and mind which helped create these so-called guardian lies;

her safety nets and happy place,

would stand confused.

Reality always seeking to escape into imagination.

There was harm done, there was help needed

Who is now going to convince her.

Who knew anymore, which worlds were built and which ones were run away from.

Day dreaming is not for the weak,

addictive and just out of reach.

Wear your armour and approach with caution.

Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

dust and dead electronics.

glassy romance

Meet my 3d glasses with spunk. Rowdy fellow

so when that didn't work out, he went for my Fabulous brown ones.

Well, they are fcuk glasses.

holidaymorning

Do vampire dogs go voof?

Nokia should use the fact that everyone thinks their phones are unbreakable - in their ads - to their advantage.

I wish my landlord would let me drill nails on my wall.

He’s got such a weird face.

I’m sure someone out there has made an entire dress out of tape.

What am I going to accomplish by getting out of bed now anyway. Nothing.

Maybe I should have food and go to five gardens.

Alone?

Why didn’t more people like Alice by Burton. Fools

If 3d movies are so cool, why are the glasses so dorky. (Mental note: Never go for 3d movies with boys I like, or let them watch me eat a burger. Ever.)

Have a nice Saturday guys.

Wherefore art thou, red typewriter

I have wanted a red typewriter for quite a few years now. I have wanted a typewriter since I can remember. My uncle, a lawyer in Chennai, used to have a number of typewriters in his house/office. My cousin, the said uncle’s son, never let me touch them.

Subsequently, said uncle, got a number of computers and chucked all but one typewriter. It was now my cousin’s turn to not let me touch any of the computers, but ah, now I could finally clickety away at the typewriter. This was a large, grey and ancient typewriter. The pages would invariably jam after every five lines. I loved it. I loved the font and I loved the feel. They got rid of the typewriter as well. Or was it that we just stopped visiting them.

In any case, I’m certain its gone now.

***

So sometime mid-way through college I realised that I still wanted a typewriter. Of course, to mark my newly acquired ‘taste’, I now specifically wanted a shiny red typewriter. Not that I would complain, (well I would complain, but very silently and guiltily) if I got a typewriter of another colour. Why a red one?

Look here, I've placed a photo of the thing right up at the beginning. It’s a beauty that’s why.

So I decided I wanted one quite badly. Then, you might wonder, is it really that difficult to get ones hands on a nice shiny red typewriter? Well, I would not know. I don’t suppose anything would be too difficult once you set your mind to it.

Next question, um, so why have you not gone and bought yourself one if you want it so bad?

Well, I have preserved it for romance. I have kept it there allowing an opportunity for romance. If you don’t understand, here – I am waiting for someone special to buy it for me, and when that happens it would be the most romantic gift ever. Now that that’s stuck in my head, even if I did find the thing somewhere, I would probably pretend I didn’t see it.

That is where the Disney princess syndrome kicks in. I expect everyone who loves me to treat me like I am f.ing Jasmine from Aladdin. What I fail to note is that none of these Disney girls ever seem to have to demand romance, it is given to them freely and selflessly. For they are more beautiful than the lone shining star in the deep limitless night. When they smile, the world stops turning. Her laughter is like the gurgling hoo ha dee dah bazoonka. Well not quite, but you get the drift.

Alright, let’s say mine is not a world-stopper smile. It is relatively photogenic yes, but possibly prettiest when fake. I am not the lone shining star of anything. I get cranky, angry, scream, swear, trip, drop food on myself and can’t sing. If I do sing, no birds come flitting my way. In any case, I don’t like birds coming too close to me. They freak me out. (They have claws and are fluttery. shudder). So having established I’m not princess Jasmine, or any of the others, does it automatically mean I cannot be the supremely most important thing in someones life?

Ok I have digressed. End point, I love gifts. If you love me, you buy me gifts. Gifts that I love.

Wherefore art thou, red typewriter. Where, romance. Come here soon, do not make me come get you, you will not like it.

DISCLAIMER: (For I am a lawyer, and we must do this) [This is not me asking everyone who reads my blog to buy me stuff. Remember, you do not love me. This is not me saying my boy sitting there somewhere does not buy me stuff. He does, and they’re super. This is just me explaining why I have not bought my typewriter yet.]

please to see

This is an email I received from a complete stranger. Made my day. You cannot make this stuff up. I have copy-pasted the email here - word-by-word original stuff my friends.

GP Sharma t o pssreekanth, me

pl note the cell no. of L.Ganesan S/o Lakshmana sastrigal of malkaji giri who is son-in-law of my friend Ramachadra is working in good position in computer company near india councilate bldg. you can meet him with my introduction. if he can help you anyway he may do it. his cell 00971504524004 at Dubai

2. another one friend Mr. Pavan of hyderabad is running a industry at Dubai. he can also help you for contact him with my introduction as told by kannan. or request Krishna od Chigago whise email is tk@iyka.com

these are for your information.

affly chitta

Life does have its moments of pure unadulterated genius. Pure unadulterated (possibly) unintentional genius. I jumped up and down a bit, then forwarded this to a couple of friends who immediately proclaimed their undying love for me. It made their day too.

Enjoy Nagamani.

Photo(s) of the (Wednes)day

Here are some photos I got out of my cousin's wedding which I like enough to put up here. I am the very sentimental type, and it does show in a lot of stuff I write, photograph or draw. These are the less mushy more anonymous ones of the nine hundred photos I took at the wedding.

Yes, well.

flower massacre - just post wedding

Excursion

I did lower kindergarten to third standard in this school called Chinmaya Vidyalaya in Chennai, Tamil Nadu (for those fools who think all of South India is medras). Every year, for those five years, I was taken to Guindy Zoo for my class excursion. I suppose I liked Guindy Zoo enough, it was better than no excursion. Dirty bloody zoo.

So one of these excursions, I run off to go see the crocodiles. My friend and I are peeping over the top of the wall trying to spot the creature in the stinking mess. Then it moves, quite suddenly, right under us.

We shriek, run, promptly fall into a thorn bush and get poked. Well, she got a thorn rammed into her leg, I got some scrapes (they were stingy scrapes, but still nothing like getting a thorn rammed into my leg I suppose). So the teacher gives her a hug, yells at me and says she is disappointed in me (because I chose to run into a thorn bush) and drags me over to the bus.

I felt like a fool

Photo of the (Wednes)day

Don't think I forgot.

Forget that I almost did.

Here is my photo of the day for this Wednesday which will be done soon.

Bombay, have I told you lately that I love you?

Goodnight

allow me, pope

There is no such thing as eternal sunshine, falls well as there is no spotless mind.
Then why blame my spotty spotted thought, and all its simple spottered rhymes.
Then why blame me for spot filled actions, for pure white truth spattered with lies.
My tears are not a thing of beauty, don’t look at me with your spotless sight
We are not eternal yet, our love may still lose without a fight
Do not believe in eternal sunshine, but do keep faith in your spotted mind

bombay lesson #1

you have your headphones on, you're in a dingy taxi, there's a beautiful song playing.
you see the old and well adjusted buildings, homes of millions, streaming past you outside.
you roll down the window, the wind hits your face and races through your hair.
you are flying high.

DO NOT FORGET YOURSELF AND INHALE DEEPLY.

you do forget yourself, forget that you are in Bombay, and inhale deep in an attempt to take in all that the situation in its poetic moment has to offer.
you choke, roll up with window, tear off the headphones and ride the rest of the way in stony silence.

here we say - sights, sounds and distinctive smells of Bombay.

come on in

An integral part of my existence and component of my happiness is wrapped around day dreaming and creating imaginary worlds. I enjoy both immensely. In fact, my friend R and I became quite close over our common love for day dreaming and most of my other friends have been subject to my relationship with my imagination.

This post in the usual style of dark-or-sad that plagues most of my entries should ideally end with me saying, oh but I have lost the will to dream. Thankfully, I have not. Not in the least.

Growing up, and post, I have always had a sufficient number of friends. To talk to, play, gossip and laugh or cry with, as the situation commands. However, my closest friends have always been the imaginary ones (honestly, this could be because I hardly get along well with anyone who is not me). These guys have filled in every gap I have in the past found, and do presently find, in my life. They have been built by my mind to be true, faithful and discerning. They are careful to enter only when I need them terribly, so as to not have me label myself as someone in serious need of psychological help.

The day dreams are different. The imaginary folk never enter my day dreams, helping keep it real. They know well enough that I depend on these day dreams to get me through rocky or steadily boring phases and having them play a role would destroy hope. Hope is a necessary element for my day dreams, to believe they will come true one day. I find it impossible to dream of impossibles. I need basis, I have logic following through pillar to pillar as I carefully, and painstakingly, construct my day dreams.

There is your insight into my mind for the day. I shall end it with very good advice - yes I do say so myself - always have a few imaginary friends and do invest some of your time in day dreams. You must create meaning for your life, it will not present itself to you.

Photo of the (Wednes)day

It was time for a new look. I wish blogger let you do a bit more though. Actually maybe it does, I just don't know how to do a bit more. I have decided to put up some photos randomly taken from here and there on my blog from time to time. I'd like to say I'll make it a wednesday thing, but knowing me that would only ensure that it doesn't ever become a wednesday thing. So let's see.

Here is a photo. Have a great wednesday.

long live.

Mine is a doomed generation

Where words sound hollow and sex rules high

Guilt once stepped in so easily, into our minds,

Now it dare not enter our corrupt lives

We live guilt free, fault free, will free

Our minds, with minds of their own drive

Drive us into numb days and numb nights

We have achieved independence,

Not from fear, but from feelings

masochism

Run fast and hard, leave it all behind

There is more poetry in her hair, than there is in her lies

Run fast and hard, to be a willing sacrifice

You may never smile again,

Leave your laugh behind

You have been delivered your girl

Let her rule your life, mark your end and blow your mind.

the takeover code, in love

In life, in love, we need the takeover code, as much as we do in law.

Why?

You can have creeping acquisitions, but whenever your feelings for someone cross certain thresholds, it is best you make public announcements and where necessary, offers. Else, it might be construed as a hostile takeover attempt by the target who would then proceed to get you, and your foolish heart, into a lot of trouble.

While you suffer with the penalty, the target would get rescued by a white knight.

What can I say?

[apologies to those who have no idea what the takeover code is]

(wasn't quite done)

my dear mango, you are so juicy

so very squeezy

theres no excuse

for you to not be in my hands right now

my sweet mango, whether alphonso

or banganapalli

you are so lovely

so divine

oh sweet mango,

please

please

be mine.

ode to mango

oh sweet mango

where are you

when is the season to see you

to cut you up

into small sunshiney bits

and eat you

oh sweet sweet

mango