Monday, June 29, 2009

Rabbit hole

.
In twenty-four hours I shall be back in my dusty little room. Strange. These twenty days seem to have stretched on forever, but I've traveled through them at the speed of light. A week seems like a month. Three weeks of holidays can fit into 5 days.

Paharganj. Terrace. Sangeet. Wedding. Dev-D. Shoot them up. GTA. Tekken. All night long phone conversations.

So much has happened that I can't really believe that it's been just one holiday. At least the Jan-Feb break was long enough to allow for legitimate confusion. But this is just bothersome! Well, I guess it won't really matter in 24 hours.

I can't believe I've spent two years in Law School. Three more doesn't even seem all that much. (At least three anyway.) I have no plan, no aim, no goals for this trimester. I just want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Now I just need to get my hands on those red and blue pills.
.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Dying in the sun

.
Rain?
We've been thrown into the sunny afternoon
...and we need to find some shade
'cause I'm dying in the sun
.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Touch of Gray

- Grateful Dead

.
Must be getting early,
Clocks are running late.
Paint by Number(?) morning sky
Looks so phony.

Dawn is breaking everywhere:
Light a candle, curse the glare,
Draw the curtains, I don't care, 'cause
It's all right.

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

I see you've got your list out:
Say your piece and get out.
Guess I get the gist of it, but
It's all right.

Sorry that you feel that way.
The only thing there is to say:
Every silver lining's got a
Touch of grey.

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive

It's a lesson to me:
The Ables and the Beggars and the Cease.
The ABC's we all must face
To try to keep a little grace.

It's a lesson to me:
The Deltas and the East and the Freeze.
The ABC's we all think of
To try to win a little love.

I know the rent is in arrears,
The dog has not been fed in years,
It's even worse than it appears, but
It's all right.

Cow is giving kerosene,
Kid can't read at seventeen,
The words he knows are all obscene, but
It's all right.

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

The shoe is on the hand it fits,
There's really nothing much to it,
Whistle through your teeth and spit, 'cause
It's all right.

Oh well, a touch of grey
Kinda suits you anyway,
That was all I had to say, and
It's all right.

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

We will get by, we will get by, we will get by, we will survive.
We will get by, we will get by, we will get by, we will survive.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Good Morning. Good Night.

.
It wasn’t until an hour had passed since I walked into the house that I remembered the hash in my pocket. This would not be a problem if I was wearing the jeans with the said pocket. But I wasn’t. Running out of the room in a mild state of panic probably wasn’t the best idea, but vivid mental images of the shocked expressions of my poor traumatized parents as the ‘drugs’ fell out of my pocket messed with the otherwise-calm-zen-like-state of being I liked to stay in. Of course, I ran head first into my father who stared at me quizzically as I let my freshly created bangs fall over my blank, kohl-trapped eyes, hiding me behind a fragile curtain of nicotine reeking hair. I grinned at him as sanely as I could manage and darted into the small room.

Too many people. Fuck. Couldn’t risk it now. Not when I’d come this far. Hiding behind the tall translucent brown-gold curtains, I studied my family. Great. An intriguing movie. This was perfect. I could transfer the hash to a safer place when my curious parents were fast asleep. It was too dangerous at the moment. I couldn’t blow my cover now. Not when there was only so much longer to freedom. I would have to bide my time. Like a fox, waiting for the hounds to leave before I jumped out of the hollow log and ran home. Like a squirrel, waiting for a snake to slither away from the acorns he’s hidden for winter. There would have to be patience. I would have to wait.

...

But, suddenly, dawn was breaking. My brother, who I hadn’t been able to find all night, was still missing. Along with my dog. Logic told me they would be inside the house, except logic was getting fucked over with every room I peeked into. And now, as the room was slowly filling up with early morning light, I remembered the pocket. Somewhere in the middle of ice candies, colors and drugged out conversations, I had forgotten all about the hash. Fuck.

This time I ran through the connecting room. I had to get there and get the stuff out before the family woke up. This was necessary. This was ultimate. I locked myself in and threw open the cupboard, only to realize that everything smelled of stale smoke. Oh. Damn.

I pulled out the blue jeans and retrieved the hash. The next few steps were complicated and messed up as I struggled with the suitcase that had decided to get stuck between the bed and the wall. The fear was back. I couldn’t be found awake at this time. There would be too many questions. I spared a glance at the mirror. No, this had to be done now!

A few painful moments later, the hash had been stored safely, the cigarettes were in place. I could breathe again. I turned to leave the room and my eyes fell on my nicotine flavored clothes. Sigh. I sniffed at the clothes cautiously. The shirt wasn’t that bad. I could leave it on the bathroom floor and wash it later. The jeans, on the other hand, had to go. For a moment, I considered flinging them out the window. Or stuffing them in the bottom of some trunk. But then, I calmed down. So the jeans ended up rolled up and stashed away at the corner of the cupboard. Temporary, but it would have to do. Rechecking everything, I turned off the light and walked into my room, hoping the younger half of my family had magically reappeared. They hadn’t. Of course.

A new journey? Ah, well...


EPILOGUE:

A new journey? Well, I am calm now. I know they’ll be back. I probably missed a room or something. And I really really need to sleep. I just wish I’d get that and pass out already. Anyhow, it’s been an interesting six hours. A little more taxing than usual, but in a good way. Now, before the world awakens, I need to find a place to hide. Good morning and good night.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Too long

Nothing is really going on. Wedding stuff shall begin in two days. For two days. I suppose I should divide the week up in my head or something. Two days till the wedding. Two days for it. And around three days after that, I shall be on my way back to Bangalore.

Another year is done with. Unless I fail all three subjects and get three carries, I am now in third year. I know a lot of people in Law School who loathe the place. Everyone seems to be *dying* to get out of there and get as far away as possible. Honestly, I don't get it. Maybe it's the venom that is circulated around campus. Gossip and slime oozes from between the closest of friends and lovers. Sigh.

I don't know if I really like Law School, but I know that I love being there. I guess that counts for something. I guess getting horribly sick of projects, exams and classes isn't really likely when you hardly notice them swirling by. (Except the last last days. Fuck, never again! I mean it) This reminds me: the results of only one paper have been released. I need to know how many repeats I have. I must try and get some fly work done these hols. Because I really don't know what the heck has been happening in that class this trimester. She almost always took the first two hours. And the first two hours are for observing the blades of ceiling fans and watching the light change the colors of trees. So, yes, I don't have a clue when it comes to Family Law 2.

This post is almost tedious. I can't write anymore. I've become terribly inarticulate. Words like "Font" and songs like Comptine d'un autre été have begun eluding me. Fuck, elude almost eluded me right now! Woah. Effect.

Anyhow, it saddens me that Second Year is over. It's supposed to be the funnest part of the five years. It has been lots of fun. I won't deny that. But, seriously, it's a scary thought. Isn't college supposed to be the funnest time of your life? And if the funnest time of the funnest time is done with... well, it's just a sad feeling...

2nd year has been a blast. The third trimester has been one pleasantly cloudy month. 1st year was about settling in, exploring and getting to know people. 2nd year has been about calming down, re-prioritizing, long conversations and chilling... Ah! See? You never count the hangovers and unpleasant mornings when reminiscing! But yes, I have had more than my fair share of issues this year... I don't think I have ever been in so much trouble ever before. The problem with this last year lies in the consistent and chaotic nature of everything. And complicated. There wasn't even so much drama in high school!!!

But yes, I should stop rambling. Second year was insane. Like an early morning jam sandwich. Like, when you're in such a hurry that you just slam the jam on one slice of bread and run out the door? If you've ever been in college, this is usually the only breakfast you manage in a week. In fact, it's reached such proportions, that half the college actually wakes up on Sunday mornings just for breakfast. Sunday breakfast is like an event in Law School. After that, most people go back to sleep. That's how breakfast-deprived we are! Anyhow, getting back to the sandwich... When you are trying to take giant bites of hard, toasted bread (usually burned too) and wondering why you bothered in the first place, suddenly you're attacked by a giant mouthful of sweet, cold jelly-like jam. I hate the Marmalade days...

The point is, I could have spread out the "events" and "incidences" from this one year over a decade! It's been an intense, overwhelming, fast ride. And I can't say I've loved every minute... But yeah, one long empty stretch done at a 100 can make an entire trip awesome. And along with the hairpin bends and the crazy roller-coaster loops, there have been many of the straight roads. It hasn't been all smooth sailing. But it's been fun. And in the end, what else is important?

At some point of time, I would have answered that last question with "Memories". But you know what? Memories can't be trusted. We're in the beginning of the Computer age and a crashed RAM or hard disk still implies no hope of retrieval. Perhaps someday, things will be different, and our technologically superior descendants will laugh at their perfect memories of our times. Or maybe we'll all just die in an early ice age within the next ten years. Or in World War III. But that's all besides the point.

Okay, this has been ...scattered. In this one year, everything has changed. In these two years, I've come back from the dead. Almost literally, my roommate would say.

I'll try and write another "Chapter ends" post when I'm a little more ...focussed. But, since I procrastinate and forget as a life-style, it may not happen. In one line: What were once vices are now habits...(FN1) Or will be soon. Good morning decaying world.

Later.



FN1 : The Doobie Brothers.

Good Morning World!

This is strange. For some strange reason, one of my parents is awake on a holiday morning at 5 am. I'm glad I took the supposedly unnecessary precaution of plunging the room into darkness at 0430. Heh. I feel clever.

Anyhow, there really is nothing to do. And I am so bored of being bored. I guess I shall try and get some sleep, though I doubt that plan will go well. I have to go to some bank tomorrow. I *hate* banks. I also hate hospitals. They mean nothing but endless waits and wasted days.

*sigh*



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Now playing: Tool - Stinkfist
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Paharganj - I

“Delhi’s den of Debauchery”
Not only does it sound cool, it fits. I must thank Sir Loon for the name. And while I’m at it, for the entire trip. I wanted to write this sooner, when everything was still fresh in my rapidly-degenerating mind, but I haven’t gotten around to being sober much. Why am I writing this today? Because today I’m exhausted, awake and clean. More or less anyhow.

Paharganj happened last Saturday. After a successful con, I got dropped off at the Metro Station at CP. My mother bought some KFC stuff for my brother and then left, albeit reluctantly, leaving Sir Loon and me to wait for the 6 other people that were supposed to show up. It’s true; lies don’t even ruffle your conscience after a point.

Anyhow, before taking the Subway, we wandered into the giant geometrical park. Actually, “wandered into” isn’t honestly what we did. We ran about crossing roads and climbing stairs until we found the deserted park. Why was it deserted? Because it was now Noon. This meant that the bright summer Sun was a straight nuke-powered arrow away from the top of our respective heads. (And it can do that because it’s the sun. Really huge, millions of miles away, etc). And we’re talking Delhi June here. For the fortunate and blissful ignorant, that means that the temperature calmly crosses 40 degrees Celsius whenever it feels like. In short, you’d have to be fucking insane to be wandering about in a park at Noon. Or in real need of a safe place to smoke some marijuana.

Once slightly stoned, we were prepared to take the next step. “The CP metro station is always crowded”, Sir Loon said, with the air of a co-conspirator, as we walked down the clean shiny slope that marked the entrance to the underground station. “That’s ‘cause it’s a main junction and every line passes through here.” How Crowded?, was all I could think of, as I told myself over and over that I had done this before. And I had quite loved the whole subway trip. But that was from another vaguely remembered life…

At first, it didn’t seem all that bad. But then, as the “train” got nearer, all these strange people materialized out of thin air. And we were carried into the shiny silver box along with the busy, harassed looking janta. Yes, I liked the whole experience better the first time around. But that’s probably only because there weren’t so many people back then. Using the Metro, I mean. Still, the journey was uneventful and quick, and next thing I knew, we were at the station with the… holy sounding name (that will be found out and mentioned. Sorry.)


To Be Continued...
That’s all for now. Part 2 (and 3?) shall take a recorded form of existence sometime later. I’m tired and sober, remember? I have to fix that. At least half of it. Later gators. :P

.

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Now playing: Emotional Attyachar (Rock Version) - ApnaMela.Com -

via FoxyTunes

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Reasons

How can I feel if I can't breathe?

It's dark. And I know it's all inside my own head, but how does that make it any better? Questions, questions, questions. So many questions.

Once upon a time, curiosity killed the gray clay cat. Satisfaction brought her back. But she was never the same...

I don't like making little sense you know. But I'm not wasting words. They bleed. And I am left holding up all our shattered glass.
It's only a problem because it leaves me with no free hands with which I could try to stop all these words. And I can only watch as they escape my mind.
I would tie it all up with ribbons, but I lost them.
All of them.
Maybe it's better this way.
I don't think they were ever mine in the first place.

Why?
(Why not?)
Because I choose to.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Bournville

.
Bournville: "You don’t just buy a Bournville, you earn it.”

I didn't come along because the both of you don't get time to talk. Did you talk?

I don't care what you do, but don't look at me with those murderous eyes.

What did I do?

What did I do now?

You will feel cold.

Thank you.

Bournville: "You don’t just buy a Bournville, you earn it.”

It's been a week.

And I did finish RE 4.

I hate chocolate...

Click!

You have to do this quiz just to look at the different options. It's worth it. Really.


http://apps.facebook.com/whichstereotypicalan/quiz/questions

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Change

There are so many things in my mind, but I can not catch any of them. They're slipping slowly, out of reach. Strangely enough, the world is bending to form convex lenses. Oh well, as long as nothing starts reflecting...

I finished Separate Ways today. Ada Wong's set of missions. I love this game. There's nothing like a fatal head shot from the Semi Automatic Rifle. And the Riot guns. Wow. I want one.

It's the 19th of June. I've been here for 8 days. 11 more. Weird. The "1" is so much smaller than the "8". See -> "18". Strange.

When you don't get real, you learn to live with make-believe.
But for make believe, you have to get carried away...
All you need is fairy dust and happy thoughts!
Things change...

Light - Lightning (It grows?)







It grows?

Ssshhh!

Light - Lightning.

Truth is stranger than fiction...

Don't worry, be happy. There's nothing else to do anyway.

And nothing else matters.







Note: None of the pictures are mine. I am making no money. I'm broke. Leave me alone!

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Fly...

.
Don't talk to me about love. It's nothing but a clever word. Lies, Guilt, Pain and obligation. These would define love better. Bitter tears and accusations. Cruel taunting and angry words. Leave me alone.

The guilt is inescapable. Our children will never be free. I wish you would listen, I wish you would stop. I wish I could fly away.

And I don't even have a window in my room.
Ah, Peter...
.

Lost

The world is made up of all sorts of people. I know that. I know that, even though sometimes I see only shadows, that's not what is really out there. I know they are all different beings with different aims and reasons, hopes and dreams, loves - lost and remembered. Everyone's got a story to tell... and when time moves so very slow, one reads so many of those tales. The only thing I've ever learned is that there is no such thing as a happy ending.

There are things that you are better off not knowing.
Leave it at that.
Trust me...

Stop reading.
Don't ask about the end!

Someday isn't going to come again.
And the heroes are long dead.

Forget, forget and swallow
It's all only for tomorrow
I knew the ending to my story
but it's all gone now...

Where am I?
So far away.
Don't let me get carried away.
Don't let me get carried away.
Don't let me get carried away...

Monday, June 15, 2009

Pointless

If I don't do something, and fast, I won't be able to go online after 0100 hours every night. That is simply unacceptable! A plan must be thought of immediately.

I'm sitting in the hall where my brother is playing Fifa on the PS2. Lasagna is being made for lunch, and I think it's almost time for my daily medication. I'm listening to Emotional Attyachar (Rock version) and have the entire Dev-D OST downloading in torrent form.

Anyhow, this was a completely random and pointless post. sigh. I shall flee now. Or fly.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Emotional Attyachar

.
Not one of the characters is new. Not one of them surprises you. And indeed, it's in this very familiarity that you hide, following the crumbling lives of the different characters. The reason these "people" are not strangers is because they are your friends and neighbors. Your boyfriend and room-mates. Your seniors and juniors. They may be roles you have never seen on screen, but they're all well known and familiar.

At some point you are Dev, with his determined path of fast and furious self-destruction. Dev with his wounded pride. Dev with the tears running down his face at his father's funeral while his mother wails as she hits him weakly and repeatedly.
I am Dev's wasted life.

You are Paro, who is Ophelia (from Hamlet) when Dev tells her that his family would never allow for the inclusion of a mere "manager's daughter" in the family. Paro as she goes to meet Dev even though she's married because she is still in love with him. Paro, who, unlike poor Ophelia, moves on.
I am Paro's second chance.

You are Chanda, watching your life fall to bits because of one stupid mistake. You are Chanda as her father shoots himself in the head after promising her that everything would be okay. You are Chanda as she finally chooses to become an 'escort', getting through college in the day.
I am Chanda's shattered innocence.

I read a review about the movie that claims that one of the reasons the movie is so great is because you aren't meant to identify with the characters. Dev is supposed to be the scum-bag that he is shown to be. But the thing is, I think this country(/world?) is divided into three bits. One of which believes such a life is only liveable on screen, another that believes it exists and a third that knows of a world just as fucked up as Dev's.

You can identify with Dev. With his lack of remorse as his dying father sends him a car (the ill-fated BMW). You can identify with Paro's 'practical' decision of marriage. You can identify with Chanda's decision to run away. You know that neon blue light so well, and you understand perfectly how the threads of guilt, blame, hurt and pride get tangled up, forming knots it takes you eternities to solve.

Yeah, this movie is familiar. This movie tells me the futures of the people I know today. It tells me about their pasts. And most importantly, it tells me so much about all our presents. Sooner or later, everything will go wrong. Sooner or later, our parents will find out about the smoking and drinking. They will find out about the abuse. Sooner or later, carries will be failed, attendance shortages will be obtained, medical certificates won't be scammed in time. Sooner or later, a year will be lost. Sooner or later, everything will fall apart. It'll be time to leave. And there will be no escape from our escapes. But until then, one's gotta do what one can to deal with all the emotional atyachar...

"Ankhon ka hai dhoka
Aisa tera pyar
Tera emotional atyachar..."
.

Evening

The golden rays stream through the barely green trees, illuminating the dying leaves as a last helpless tribute to the glory that was once theirs. Now, all that's left of the forgotten days of old are these dying giants, dwarfed by the mass of ugly concrete growing all around.

I lie here, on this gray roof under these gray skies, burning through with a guilt I can't understand and a sense of fast fading responsibility. There was nothing I could do. There is nothing I can do. Not anymore... I would have liked to burn bright and fast, like the falling embers from this last cigarette. Instead, I can only unravel, my thoughts bleeding into the heavy air as I try to hold on to memories it would do me well to forget. I fade, a dull reddish scar from an injury so long forgotten, that even the birds don't remember.

And I wait for the dark...

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Now playing: Pink Floyd - High Hopes
via FoxyTunes

Emotional Attyachar (Rock version)

.

Bharpa jo ek shor hai,
Pukhta hai purzorr hai,
Agg rag jalte iske sarmaye…

Kal mera bebaaak tha,
Aaj magar kamzor hai..
Khud se ankhein hi na mil payein.

Aankhon ke aage jo hai,
Manzar lava barsaaye…
Jalta hai dil jalta hai…
Til til main jalta hoon…
Is lamhe ki haqeeqat..
Gawaara na kar paaye…
Jalta hai dil…
Til til main jalta hoon…

Hat ja re hat jaa,
pare hat ja re nazron se,
pare Hat ja re hat jaa re,
pare hat jaa re..
arrey jaa re…

Mere lavss ke haar jaise,
hain yaadon mein chubte jaise..
Aasoon mere behte rehte..
Khoon ke…khoon ke…(twice)

Ankhon ka hai dhokha,
Aisa tera pyaar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!!!

Ankhon ka hai dhokha,
Aisa tera pyaar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!!!

.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Shoot 'em Up

.
I have just got to describe a few scenes from this movie


1. Hero kills guy in airplane, sky-dives and shoots at and kills over 20 minions. These minions then scatter on a single street across which the hero stumbles, hurt.

2. Hero drives his car into the bad guy van, releasing his seat-belt at the last minute. Upon impact, the guy flies
Step i > through his windshield
Step ii > through the van's windshield
Step iii> over the heads of the four guys sitting in the back

After this, he turns around and shoots them all dead, with a "So much for seat-belt safety." or something.

3. Hero grabs 1 day old baby off the spinning structure in the park with one hand. And I swear you hear a "thunk"

4. Chick is worried that Hero will die. Hero promises to find her. Chick sobs about the uncertainty, and laments, saying there is no way to be sure. Hero twirls gun, puts the trigger ring around her finger and gazes into her eyes. (-_-)

5. Big-shot gun co. owner and evil dealer guy are talking at the gun factory. Hero sets up elaborate system using guns and threads, after which he sets off the alarm. From random parts of the room, he pulls different threads, successfully eliminating every last hench man.

6. Hero is tortured by ex-forensic scientist, finally managing to escape with heavily injured hands. The former can not shoot. Runs out, drops gun, falls next to fireplace. Bad guy comes over and laughs at him.
Dialogue
Bad guy: One last thing. Tell me that I am dead on about who you are?
Hero: Say that again.
Bad Guy: Tell me that I am dead- *interrupted by hero*
Hero: You got that part right. *bang*


I wish I could remember some of the other scenes. The movie was insane. I couldn't stop laughing. It's honestly the funniest movie I've seen in so long. There are so many shoot outs and chase sequences. And so many impossible insane stunts, it's a mindless terrible movie to watch. It isn't really funny, but it sure is a lot of fun!

Friday, June 12, 2009

Random Quotes (that aren't really all that Random)

"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable."-Wizard of Oz

"It is a time when one's spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death."- Mark Twain

"Ah, "All things come to those who wait," (I say these words to make me glad), But something answers, soft and sad, "They come, but often come too late"- Anonymous

The melancholy days are the saddest of the year; Not cold enough for whiskey but too damn cold for beer. - Unknown

They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize I'm going to miss mine by just a few days. - Garrisson Keillor

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Home> Chapter 1 > HQ

.
I took over the guest room today. I think it's important to have a sort of HQ to retreat to every time the firing gets a little too out of control. And the best part is, it's far away enough from the other bedrooms to allow for late night, mind-numbing levels of sound. Now all we need is a little balcony. :( I suppose one must not ask for too much, but that really would have helped make matters so much simpler. Now, I have to re-hunt for the keys to the terrace every single time... sigh.


P.S. I just can't seem to fall asleep. And this is strange coz I passed out on the flight! I never sleep when I'm flying!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Leaving

A last post from college.

It isn't even an entire month. I have got to remember that. Everything will still be fine when I come back. Nothing really ends. I'm waiting for the cab to get here and everything feels so surreal. In a matter of a few hours, will I really be home? I don't want to go back. I'm nobody's here. I belong to myself and myself alone. At home, I'm just ...there.

I wish I could explain better, but I'm pretty inarticulate right now and I could really use one last cigarette. *sigh* These holidays are going to be too long...

Monday, June 8, 2009

Fly...

.
After a paper I may pass though I definitely deserve to fail, and one that I may fail even though I objectively should pass, Fly was a relief. I attempted only 30 marks (I need about 27 to pass) and took my own sweet time doing the horribly long problem questions. I really hope she doesn't read the theory bit of my paper... Then again, it may just work for me. Because it will convince her that I'm retarded to the nth degree and then every sensible word in the repeat will be such a pleasant surprise! ...Or she may just not read my repeat paper 'coz my end term paper gave her such a terrible headache. :| Either way, I have to spend less than a month in Del. I'm relieved.

I leave on the 10th. Sometime in the evening. That means I have one night and half a day to pack, pay my bills and party. I'm in half a mind to spend tomorrow in the hostel. Going out seems like just too much work.

Oh, the best part of today's exam has to be half-way into the paper, when I first realized that I never photo-copied the last week of class. And that's bad because she did half of the syllabus in that week. :|

Anyhow, I think I shall go marvel at the pretty sky for a while. I absolutely love this weather. Sigh. I'm gonna miss Bangalore...

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Hungry

.
It isn't like what they say is news. You've heard it all before. You know what they mean when they say they think you're fucking everything up completely. You know what they mean when they say it isn't anything novel you have to get used to. I'm done with the sympathy, I'm done with the apathy. Solitude used to be a once-in-a-while fun affair. It used to be a luxury. Now, it's just how I would rather live.

It isn't that I hate the people around me. On the contrary, I've realized that they're actually really nice genuinely concerned people. But I'm done with genuine concern. And nice was never a priority anyway.

It's been almost a year since I had the realization that my favorite kind of people were the selfish kind. Maybe it's 'cause they're such a welcome change from the artificial sweetening that seems to have been sprinkled all over the place. I like people who are mean to the point of being cruel, if only 'cause you never have to wonder about their motives or what they might actually want from you.

Anyhow, the trimester's almost over. To be honest, I've tried my hand at one of those end-of-the-term posts, but I can't do it. To explain this trimester in words would be like trying to explain a fast fading dream. It's not about how great or terrible these three months have been. It's about the surrealism. And now, it's getting too late to try and remember. I think this is the first trimester in Law school that I can look back at without cringing at memories of every second week... Actually... that isn't true... but the greatest part is that it feels like that. And in the end, I guess it is all about perception...

Anyhow, I have Fly on Monday. I don't know the syllabus. I don't know how to derive basic intestate succession shares. I don't know the difference between Muslim law and Hindu law. And I can't get myself to care. The only real problem with repeats is that you get used to them. Kinda like getting used to a dish you weren't ever really fond of. I guess one can eat anything when they're hungry enough...
.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Sleep!

Tomorrow's my crim paper and I just can't sleep. I know I should, and trust me, there's nothing I'd like more. But I've been living with myself long enough to know what this feeling means. I won't be getting any sleep tonight. And this is especially sad because for once I've finished reading whatever I intended to. sigh.

On a brighter note, today was an okay day. Except for the horrible Juris paper, but that can't be helped. One can not be expected to ace a paper based on class discussions when one barely attended class (and slept/tripped through the classes that were attended). Whatever. I just have to keep the repeat scene sufficiently swallowable so that my parents don't accompany me to Bangalore. Like my mother did last time.

Anyhow, with the help of a simple meaningless message, I realized that there are acually a lot of people I have come to grow quite fond of. At one point of time, warning bells would have been ringing in my head, but this is the new me, and I don't really mind. But maybe that's only because I'm not that hung up on the fact that it's all temporary anyway. What matters is that people such as the ones I know actually exist in a world like this. And knowing that makes everything infinitely better.

Anyhow, I'm off to try and get some sleep. G'nite.

Better days

...
I wish I could do something instead of making these empty promises of better days. You make me want to protect you from all of the ugliness around us. I wish I could put you away in a little box where nothing and no one would ever hurt you again. You deserve so much more than what this horrible cruel world has to offer, but it isn't me who can give you any of those things.

I refuse to believe that this is all that there is for you.
Hold on little ones, dawn shall surely come...
I promise...
...

Thursday, June 4, 2009

End Of The World

It was the end of the world as we knew it.
And I didn't even know.
Now it's too late for goodbyes.
And we're left with the rest of eternity for silent regrets.

Was Neverland really only a dream?
I think we made it up inside my head.

How shall you complete the wall?
Use memories, Mr. Pink. Use memories.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

W

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Monday, June 1, 2009

Wasps

I wish it would rain all night. I wish it would never stop raining. Until all of the world is under water. The storm is coming, but we'll be safe on the Crystal Ship. Though all sheep must drown. I won't go this way is all I can say as I get carried away. Sometimes you can only hope that you run into bushes and sand instead of rocks and walls. Because they hurt lesser. I guess.

P.S> Do we have to take the wasps?

Rambling

.

Maybe people don't always change. It's too dangerous a thought to have. I guess circumstances change and people just react differently. It's a consolation, though I do not know if I'm making myself feel better or appeasing fate by saying that. Either way...

The end term exams start in three days. I just spent the last 5 hours at Amma's. The rain came, it went away. Folks took their dogs out for walks and returned. People signed contracts and got hired. Sometimes, I like watching the world go by. Things keep changing, and if you wait long enough, good things happen too. The only problem is that you never know how long you should stay.

Past or Future?
I wouldn't know. Even if it were a year into the future, how could you be sure you still exist? How could you know for sure that the Earth still exists? You could time travel a year into the future and end up walking out into blank empty space.

*Pop*

That's what your death would be like. An empty sound in vast black nothingness. Cold, alone and meaningless.

On the other hand, the past is huge. There would always be somewhere to go. And you could change things. I've always been against messing with time because I know it could really fuck things up. But you know what? Sometimes things are really fucked up anyway, and it wouldn't hurt much to try and change things, because you never know...

You never know... and thus, maybe the future won't be so bad either. I wouldn't mind a sneak-peek at a chapter somewhere in the middle. I don't want to know the end. But anything else would do. Maybe I'll even figure out what not to do.

What *to* do, on the other hand, is a much more difficult question to answer.
That's the problem with thinking. If every choice has an equally vague outcome, just do nothing.
It's all I do these days, Nothing.
And I'm not sure if I've just stopped doing everything, or if it all now means the same to me.
Either way, gray saves the day.
Again.

.