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He's running out of words
as he ran out of emotions
he's trying to make a joke
but they've heard it all before
he looks at his damaged self
and the ones he took down with him
so he holds on to her tightly
'cause she might be the only one who'd care
as she made his life hers
when she didn't know any better
that she'd find a hollow man
who talked of a lovely blue sweater
she thought it was about her
it was not
it was not
her former friends
don't miss her at the weekly melting pot
she hoped it would be a vacation
but was tied down
to a fisherman's knot
she thought she'd live it long
her heart is ill
now life is short
she once loved this man
but he didn't bother a squat
she saw all the signs
but she deliberately forgot

don't feel bad for him
especially don't feel sad for her
she made that choice
they had their shot

Blast from the past-III

It's time for another one of 'em embarrassing teenage poetry y'all. W00t!

A little background: Wrote this for my then boyfriend on our first anniversary. *Sigh* on being 18 and doing things parents wouldn't approve!

This Kiss

We talk
    we digress

As we look into each other's eyes
    somehow you read every thought on my mind
       and we know it's time

You lock the door
    and I try to relax
       even after a year, it's the same old new

You walk towards me
   I'm still gasping for my breath

You sit beside me
   and I smile, attenuated

You lift your hand and push my hair back
   your fingertips gently caressing my nape

As you move closer to me
   I feel a warm whiff of air on my face
      my eyes closed, lips trembling
         and that moment when we kiss
            I drift to a fantasy land
               I never want to come back.

Stay with me, my lover
   'cause I need you in this time of my youth
      'cause you never know the turns of this capricious life
         this kiss was only a prelude

We can be happy
   this state of trance could go on
      this rhapsody could play forever
         such is the power of this kiss

Pimp yo bro

Sometimes people ask me why or how I am the way I am. I think being a Kashmiri might have something to do with it. If you visit Kashmiri families or come to our functions like weddings et al, you'll see that it's the women who do all the super-excited greetings. The men, in the meanwhile, huddle up in groups of 3 in the corner, possibly to avoid work and acquiring any semblance of intelligence, and whisper amongst each other about life in the valley and how they wish they had kangris. So I've sworn to never get married to a Kashmiri guy.

But I guess times they are a-changing and I guess I wouldn't mind a guy like my brother.

//Brother pimping begins

He's 19, single, quizzer, sings really well, super funny, brilliant footballer, was part of MUN and all, is currently confused between Law or pursuing CS after graduation and writes superbly. You might even ask why he's still single. My guess is it's 'cause his name's a little girly.

Look how adorable.

Oh sorry! That's the dog, Tutu. I didn't have a say in naming him either.

Seems like a normal boy from a normal family, no?

//Brother pimping ends

Being away from my family for 4 years made me feel more affectionate towards him. So when I came back home for good, I got FIFA installed on my laptop for him out of sheer love. OK so now basically I want him off my back! Wake up in the morning and he's on my laptop. Sleep at night, he's on the laptop. When he's not on my laptop he's jam-growling with his guy friends over the phone. Gay. He really should get a gf so he gets a life and stops snitching on me every Saturday when I get home a little beyond the deadline (or how I like to call it - dadline. Getit?)

This is an example of us engaging in a typical friendly banter:

SaTan: Are you like...CRYING?
Me: Shut up. It's Grey's! (Anatomy) I have gone through 6 seasons of an emotional rollercoaster, this affects my life. 
SaTan: Gay. 
Me: Wtf! Like you don't get upset when Manchester United loses! 
SaTan: (with eyes exactly like in the picture) They are like...uh...REAL PEOPLE! 
Me: Shut up! Get the hell out! 
SaTan: And that's your best comeback? Gay.

And yeah, he likes to sign off as SaTan. Don't ask.

Anybody interested? 

In other news, there is a glass window in my office which really stupid pigeons like to collide into. Damn funny it is. Unless they're blind or something.

Tales from the Metro - Ladies coach

No more
butt pinching
dick pressing
looking down your shirt
body odour
pickpocketing
losing temper
violent thoughts.

We rejoice
except the ones looking for love
in the next morning's paper.

I lost atleast 10 grams writing this

So today during Anjaana Anjaani (omfg the mind numbing, bored the holy bejesus out of me, it took a Robot to bring me back to life, though I would've preferred a fuck) S goes "Oh Happy Gandhi Jayanti" and I'm pretty sure though I stared at him for like 2 seconds and didn't answer back 'cause I was trying to wrap my brain around it. If only it had been a weekday...Then later when we were quietly digging into our McChickens, Saare Jahan Se Accha instrumental version was playing in the mall, I have no clue why (ohh...right) we started discussing if that's the national song or if its Vande Mataram. I remember sometime back in school that used to be one of those questions that the history teacher used to feel proud of that they've tricked us into, except that we never really cared and since S and I are coincidentally from the same school, we probably related to it 'cause we chuckled harmoniously. (I dunno actually, I didn't ask why he chuckled) Either way, I don't know what it means to be patriotic. I only understand fanaticism. Though not the kind of fanaticism that Ms. Kiara aka Piggy Chops had in the friggin movie about suicide 'cause she was like totally perky about the whole thing. Weird. Dhishoom to my head wonly. And do you know there's a movie on homosexuals coming out soon titled "Dunno Y"? Why, god, why? I don't even believe in you and I'm still crying out to you.

Amongst other things that S has emphatically started saying to me are "Why would anybody wanna date you?", "Dude! You're screwed up" and "No wonder you're single!" He sort of logically concludes what my ex said to me a few days back "Oh I see the temper's still there" I don't even know why I waste my breath on boys anymore, the incorrigible robosapiens (ok 'that' I stole from Superstar Rajni) As long as I am earning and have a laptop and an internet connection I seriously don't understand why I need a guy. Which contradicts one of the recent feelings that I have towards romantic relationships 'cause I tried the whole 'random' thing and it's really not worth my time. Though it will help my re-celibate cause by totally putting me off sex. Yayness all around.

However, if I am being standoffish or cold or mean or whatever the words are, I'm totally gonna blame my parents, all 25 years of it, 'cause it seems like the easiest thing to do. I don't know how to display affection at all and when I do try and genuinely at that, I start crying. I know, beats me! Currently my idea of showing love is to wear a t-shirt that says "My dog is cuter than your dog" and it's sad 'cause my dog can't read. Actually no dog...yyyeahhh. Though I think S has helped that situation to some extent by being the weirdly expressive person that he is and by constantly calling me a pussy, apart from the more obvious reason. My hand holding record is now 4 seconds! Say whaaa! Hi5! (Slap it, don't grab it. Wow. So. Many. Images.) And I offered to take my parents out twice, except they wanted to do other things. Can't say I didn't try.

The awesome bit is that I get to see A.R. Rahman tomorrow live! Hearing his Robot/Enthiran soundtrack, I was reminded of the episode when Ross played his keyboard at the Central Perk. Yeah. I'm getting a few footwear my way aren't I?

Love in the times of internet

Is it me or is it you that stalks?
You're onto me like an invisible hawk
You may or may not have a plan of attack
Either way I've kept eyes on my back

Once, twice, now three times a day?
this predictibility's understood by your processor's cache
it don't need your command, your mind it can read
your mind says your heart has always bled for me

Even if you don't agree please don't deny
I've been longing for someone to give me that high
The high that you yourself took from me
like the morning espresso reminding me of the absentee

What's the point now? Your guess is as good as mine
though I can still see some remnants of our shrine
the remnants that most my conversations let drop
Now is it you or is it me that stalks?