Favourited Vol. VI (emergency)

Moss: [Dialing] 0115…no…0118…no…0118 999 – 3. Hello? Is this the emergency services? Then which country am I speaking to? Hello? Hello?

Moss: I know. Yeah. [sits down in front of the computer to write an email] Subject: Fire. "Dear Sir stroke Madam, I am writing to inform you of a fire which has broken out at the premises of..." no, that's too formal. [Deletes] "Dear Sir stroke Madam. Fire, exclamation mark. Fire, exclamation mark. Help me, exclamation mark. 123 Carrendon Road. Looking forward to hearing from you. All the best, Maurice Moss."

Moss,

 

The IT Crowd

[watch the clip here]

Unfolded

It was a  ritual. The first thing she would do on waking up was to check her phone for his absent texts/calls.  She had waited- ignored, unanswered, humiliated. At an uneventful moment ,she realized to her surprise,that the day had finally come when his name no longer brought a smile on her face.

True story

My friend (say B) and I(A, for the obvious reason) thought we'd order in dinner tonight.

A:  What do you want?

B: Chinese?

A: sure. (hands her over the menu)

B: Chicken in Kung Pao sauce?

A: Ok. How about some noodles with that?

B: Ok. You pick.

A: I don't know what to pick...ummm...suggest something.

B: Just pick something funny.

A: Okay. Veg. Basket noodles?

B:  Cool.

*The food arrives*

And what we see in front of us makes stuff for a good community laughter.
B asked me to pick something 'funny', I didn't know I could do it so well.
Even my food has a sense of humour. :-l


So this is what we ordered:

 This is what we got:

The noodle basket and the veggies

polithinks: #slapyourself if you ordered Chinese noodle basket and you actually got a basket made of noodles.

You are not You

The delectable words,
The smothering eyes,
The precarious memories,
The smokey touch,
The scars of pain,
The  playful fingers,
The smacks of taste.

...When I see you safe in the frame by my bed.


The fiery words,
The stone cold eyes,
The forgotten memories,
The lost touch,
The unfeeling skin,
The tired fingers,
The spiteful tongue.

... when I see you lying besides me, lost in a private ethereal world.


Should I just stare and love you  both?
Or
Should I pick up my choice with shaking hands and walk...

Favourited Vol. V (communication)

'Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.'

Roland Barthes, "Talking," in A Lover's Discourse

 

Blank Please

It was only two days ago that i was begging my mind to stop thinking incessantly! I tried as many things as humanly possible without killing myself or my brain.

It's not fun when there are at least 100 different/unrelated/merged/oh-I-don't-know-how-to-categorize-anymore thoughts running through your head, ALL THE TIME!!!!

No sir, It's not.

Okay I am going to make this a short post and you will soon find out why.

Bam!

something happened last night.

And now I am feeling free. I feel peace and calm and a blank space in my, otherwise plethorised , head.

For the first time in life I feel i am truly on a vacation(I am in the middle of my end terms, by the way)where I am free from all worries, all thoughts, everything that I need and don't need. 

I am blank at the moment.

I am free.

I shall get back to being in the state(this lil blogpost made me think!).

cheers to life.

cheers to all the things I can't put a name to coz right now I am BLANK and I am loving it.

Urban gyaan -I

I sometimes marvel at the infinite hope that student, all over the world and in all generations, have that a miracle would suddenly decide to do what they themselves didn't do for days/weeks/months - finish their assignments or study for the exam - on the morning of the D-day!

I say hope because it can't simply be a case of over-confidence or sheer indifference. I reject the first because most of us are smart enough to know that our IQ hasn't gone up exponentially in a matter of a few hours to able to finish the work required in a couple of hours. Second, it can't be indifference because even when we are lazing around, watching movies, dozing off every 3 hours, going out for coffee/brunch/dinner(we gotta eat, in'it?) or even just lying down staring at the ceiling, it is work that we are thinking about. Coming up with schedules, plans A, B and X to not only finishing the work on time but to do it so well that we'd get outstanding grades for sure.

Polithinks: Hope is the mother of procrastination.

Favourited Vol. IV (choices)

''It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world.''

East of Eden , John Steinbeck

Walking in Someone Else's Shoes

She's had a bad day since morning. Cold, fever and thousand tiny chores. She craved for a good meal.

Flips open the phone

*type type type*

'Lunch date? My treat. I know u r busy but don't say no to amazing food and a surprise date with a hot (quoting u) girl! ^_^'

*send*

*wait wait wait*

*no reply*

thinks-Now I know what it feels like to get ignored when you ask someone out.

Empathy for all the guys I've rejected in my lifetime. I like to walk in my heels better than their shoes. *sulk sulk*

*BEEP BEEP*

She opens the text which reads- 'Someone else found your text mysteriously. This is Chuck Norris inviting you to join him for dinner tonight.'

thinks- 'I definitely love walking in my shoes!!'

The (Happy) End

p.s: 1)the story isn't complete without the link attached.

2) I am not really a pro at coming up with PJs. I am trying nonetheless.

dear X sincerely Me # 4

Dear auto-wala who bullied me yesterday,

 I dreamt of your auto.I punctured all the three tires. You can thank me later.

sincerely, should have paid you less.

Notes from an Incipient Misanthrope (Stage I)

Confessions

"Sometimes I wake up early and even my soul is wet"

                                                                       -Pablo Neruda

-Grief is a product of idleness and isolation- a combination that I failed often to solve/escape.

-I've been :

• a patriot but inactive citizen,
•  an affectionate but distant sibling,
• a jovial but remote friend,
•  passionate but lost love;
• dull with brightness,
• unkind to beauty,
• an egoist to laughter , 
• with power, passive.

I have been everything that I thought I would never be.

-Was It I who suffered ,suffering in style the illusion of change, the poison of hope?

I shall give in to the image I see reflected in the cruel eyes when I look at you with an innocent desire to be spared the indignity of rejection. I give in, I give up.

'too soon',  you say.

You did not live my life, living helplessly each moment snowballing into years and decades reasserting the crack between the mind and the soul - having to see the wreckage of the bliss that you knew existed within you, one speck at a time.

-Sometimes tears seem so irrelevant. The cause too perverse. The soul drips with the tears I don't care to shed anymore.


-I am a cynic, an indifferent realist, I am all that you would care to define me as, for I have failed. I have failed my definition of myself.