The honest scrap award/ Blast from the past

Aniruddha had tagged me in this post of his and I'm taking this opportunity to be as vulnerable as I can, so thanks Ani_aset for that and the award :P * applause*

I do have to admit though, that starting a blog has been one of the adventurous things I've ever done in my life. Starting with the haikus, to third person poems, then first person poems to completely doing away with the metaphorical, I feel I have sort of been successful in saying what I exactly feel.

I don't have a whole list of things that people don't know about me, I've pretty much been an open book. A little bit of my blog browsing and you'll know who I am!

So I present to you a poem (?) I wrote at 17, right before my current ex became my then bf (get it?) Hehe. Kindly keep the age in mind as you read. Also, keep a bucket handy in case you feel like barfing, reading the word "love" in every sentence.

*****************************

There are no words that can describe this feeling
it can only be felt
deep down inside of me
the pain,
the suffering,
the joke that has been played on me.

How can I ever tell you how much I love you
when I know that you would turn away
and never look back at me
Those eyes, those beautiful devastating eyes
that could read every thought on my mind
Those eyes that I loved,
from the moment I set my eyes on you.

I lied when I said I don't love you
I know I lied 'cause I couldn't look into your eyes
The truth is that I never stopped loving you
the love that has destroyed me
the love I still love.

I thought that maybe time would heal me
crying would heal me
but love once happened can't fade away.
It's sad that it should introduce itself to me this way

Now your memories can only haunt me
'cause though I love you more than I can ever say
you never cherished me that way,
the reasons, I can't understand.

I can't understand why our friendship never blossomed into love
I have never wanted anything this badly
And that I have imagined
you touching every single part of me
right from my forehead to the ankles
making love in the way that makes me cry now
when I touch myself thinking those hands are yours.

Maybe it's my fault that my love was always a joke to you
I lied when I said it was mere infatuation
but even if I stood firm with my feelings
you still wouldn't have comprehended
But I don't blame you
you are your own master
and it's not your fault you never loved me.

How can I start my life afresh
when the only person I needed was you
How can I move on
when my past doesn't leave me
and wants to be my present and my future
How will I live
if I cut out the biggest part of my heart
the part occupied by you.

Maybe this is not our last goodbye
but it shatters me nevertheless.

I don't know when this feeling
that started as an infatuation
and became an obsession
ended up being so intense
that I never realized it was love
till I tried to forget you.

So if you can't keep me happy
atleast don't make me sad
my heart will stay with you
so keep it safe.
I live by the moments that we've shared.

I wish I could give you more
just a little more
I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted
but now I'm left with nothing at all.

*****************************

I need to tag a few people so I guess I will!

a) Choco
b) Mentalie
c) Meghana (whenever she gets the time!)
d) Shamanth
e) Shagun
f) Prashant
g) Poe

Happy revealing and relieving! :P

Miss Misdemeanor

They say men think about sex more than women. I'm pretty sure today I could've put any man to shame. This is what I was scribbling during a Project Engineering lecture in my company's Learning & Innovation notepad to stay alive, hoping for any sort of a future.

Click on the picture to get a better view.

I don't wanna know what my peak would be like when I'm 30. Perhaps my moral compass, who's needle is already doing some chiggy wiggy, will let in some moisture (!) to destroy it completely. Meh. I just regret not using this much brain for academic purposes.

Chamba Wumba

Home is where the hill is
excavated like burrows in the terraces
winding roads shyly snuck away in the greens
clergy of trees subservient to the slope
they swish in harmony, the ventriloquists that they are
talk and hush in the same sentence
like silent whispers that baffle me
they might have seen me coming.
Your climb is futile
there's much of me to conquer still,
they say.
But they don't know that I win either way
when the heart is where beauty is, at every blind turn.

Shake it, shake it good!

One thing only a handful of people know about me is that before all the singing and acting and writing, I was a dancer in the school Indian Classical/Folk dance team. And though everyone presumes that I'd always be ready to shake my bootay, I don't see how that's happening unless I'm atleast 2 drinks down.

Only when the dijjay is playing such songs am I comfortable dancing:

a) Punjabi songs, being the true blue Delhiite that I am

b) EDM/House music, for I was heavily inspired over the past 2 years by my Bombay friends 

Since I consider the kind of dancing I've done in my school days as "superior" these are the songs I do not dance to under most conditions:

a) Billo Rani

b) Summer of 69

c) Numb by Linkin Park

Cheap, un-danceable and HUH?, respectively.

Last night, while I was taking rest between all the J-Lo type dancing, a random girl came out of nowhere and said to me "I love the way you dance, dance with me!" I was like "Woah baby!" and though I was drained completely, there was something about the proposition that had me up and about! There's no better compliment than a female praising you, serious! Besides, the woman had some legs on her. Hehe. 

No, I'm still not dancing to Billo Rani.

How Atrisa's Getting Her Groove Back

Dating a guy 3 years your junior is supremely fascinating. The first few days you just laugh at the thought that you got into it, then couple of days you walk the roads like a studette, later you start debating the rights and wrongs, though technically there don't seem to be any.

There are certain reasons that makes this an interesting proposition to me even if short term:
1) He is not very emotionally crippled at his age, which a great balancing act to moi
2) He considers you no less than a Goddess because:
    a) He thinks you're "experienced" (which may be true)
    b) He gets a gazillion brownie points with his other cute little hyper excited 22 yr old friends for dating a "senior"

However, there's a reason why I don't tell my friends about all the cheesy (but cute!) things he does 'cause anyway my friends have such things to say "bacche ki jaan legi kya?", "pyara sa baccha hai, use bigad mat", and ironically like another 22 yr old friend exclaims "Omg, he's so 22" (Stuff it woman)

On a complete tangent I also get "You have a thing for guys with popular blogs and book deals, don't you?"

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's not the writing that makes you, it's what you are that makes you a writer, and that's very hot to me. Heehee.

The level of attention I'm getting from this willing participant to pamper me is unmatched. Hope we both have fun while it lasts.

Dhak Dhak...Go!

Friends say my 4-day old company has already brainwashed me into thinking they're Gods. It could be 'cause I start worrying about how due to the presence of multiple brands in same product line Mahindra & Mahindra's scooties might gain market share, start babbling in between conversations ideas for branding, vehemently defending their corporate tagline or the fact that I get excited when I see my company's product booklet in the hands of some random person on the Delhi Metro.

Who cares. It's awesome to be passionate about something after what seems like ages, a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

And Prateek, it doesn't change the fact that I still aspire to spearhead programming in a big ass television company. Sometimes learning to love what you do is the best thing one can do.

Penetrate. Squeeze. Swallow.

Quite appropriately as I was listening to a song that went "we keep driving into the night..." while traveling in my strangely less crowded bus, I saw a man being highly animated with his hands. After a few seconds of trying to figure out what he was doing with some article in his hand, whether he was going to bomb the bus by showing some explosive (we're quite paranoid here in the capital city) or was just plain psycho, I realized he was simply demonstrating a product! So he was screwing this cylindrical object into an orange, then taking out a glass and filling it with its juice. Then squeezing the orange till about 3/4ths of the glass was full and then he ripped open the orange to show the product's effectiveness. Repeat with a lemon. Frankly I never thought one could get that much juice out of a lemon!

When it was time to finally sell the product, so many people held out their ten rupee notes, it was almost a hurrah! for the marketer in me. And all the while I had my iPod playing in my head. Now, that's what I call salesmanship! Bus Sales Guy, you just made my journey worth it.

You came here cuz of the post title no?