Try it…!
Chamko this is for you! :P
Haaaahahahahhaahaa!!!
I am bored. I was at least.
Try it, its supremely entertaining! Very ridiculous and you end up clicking on the more sarcastic answers but good fun! hehe!
War of the Pronouns: She, I
She is undried ink, waiting to be smudged to perfection…
I am etched, embossed, you can only touch the writing.
She is the alphabet, thrown open to the world to articulate
I am greek to you, despite lessons in a foreign language
She is the screenplay producers are fighting over.
I am a miserable flop, even critics couldn’t spot the brilliance in me…
She can smile at you and make you feel warm and tingly all over…
I am the reason for your discomfort, your goosebumps, your loss of coherence.
She is the perfect brew, just right – facilitating conversations…
I am reheated tea, bitter and unpleasant – a necessity in this cold cold winter.
She is the dainty manicurist, the hairstylist, a finishing school crash course
I am a struggling writer who’s out of words, a peripatetic artist who cannot paint
She is a dreamy wispy slender enchantress…
I am reality, you cannot help but be possessed.
She is beautiful long tresses, silky smooth, anti-frizz serum!
I am an unruly mess, my hair refuses to be my vanity!
She is the soft smoke he exhales, I stare
I am the warmth he inhales, she stares
She is a petite chocolate truffle cake, suits everyone’s palette
I am a tall glass of molten chocolate with piquant spices, All of it?
She is the beholder of beauty staring at the mirror that helps me kajal my eyes…
I am beauty.
The War of the Pronouns: You
You are pure unadulterated joy.
You are gorgeous black orbs I wish to adorn with thick dark kajal
You are the smile that lights up my room
You are the giggling little child I unknowingly adore
You are hell bent on pampering me
You are Maa, my silver haired beauty
You are the queen of all queens
You are lost and I love that dazed look on your face
You make me laugh till I can laugh no more
You leave me gasping for air with your accusations
You smile and your eyes light up
You laugh and a tear rolls down my eyes
You are my dusky beauty, my tall, dark and handsome
You are my porcelain doll, my blonde blue-eyed boy
You are my tanned “wannabe” Brazilian
You are the voice I listen to for hours and hours
You are my confidante after guzzling gazillions of vodkas
You are my Delhi babe, my GK chick
You are my boring black, white and blue wardrobe
You are my prim n propah prima donna
You are embarrassed by my klutzy-ness, aren’t you?
You are cocoa, delicious and I want to monter au beurre you
You are dark chocolate mousse, green tea, and psychobabble blah!
You are my guardian angel, my saviour, my all
You smell so good, like parched earth gulping down rain
You have left him weak-kneed, a nervous school-boy’s crush
You are the voice that makes me swoon till I fall flat on my face
You are the words I wish to control and play with
You are the sentences I analyse and criticise
You are my guilt trip
You are my banishment from society
You are my damnation in hell
You are my cave in the Himalayas
You are smitten by everything that is not me
You are laughter – loud, clear, brilliantly giggly, honest laughter
You are tears that flow uncontrollably
You are the blushing bride with bling bindis and glittery eyeshadow!
You are minty fresh breath
You are as simple as simple can get
You are excruciatingly complicated
You are exotic, husky, sexy such a hussy!
You are this demure damsel in damned distress
You I cannot relate to no matter how hard I try
You talk and I can hear myself think
You are vivid memories etched in my mind
You are faded-black n white-photographs that are oh so beautiful
You are the irritating tip tip of a leaking tap in the middle of the night
You are the sole reason for my sleepless nights?
You are my security blanket and Delhi is getting cold
You are my penniless struggling rockstar who refuses to sell his soul
You are my jack and coke, I repeat the order repeatedly
You are the oak, the pepper in my glass of Shiraz
You are the million smoke rings I could never conjure
You are the strumming of a guitar accompanied by the deep deep baritone
You are and will always remain a twirling twisting travesty
You are the subject twice removed from reality and still so perfectly gorgeous, gorgeously perfect
You are tongue twisters rolling off her tongue
You are all mine in my mind’s landscape
You are the urging husky whispers that compel them to let go
You are the orange-red embers the wind flirts with – blushing bright
You are wings that even Icharus’ pride cannot destroy
You are the hubris that will be my downfall with a bow in my heel
You have rendered me helpless with mixed emotions
You seem ridiculously sure of yourself and it kills me
You are effortless grace that is achieved after many years of practice
You are poetry in motion, a remarkable feat after guzzling beer after beer
You are the buzzing of a mosquito too close for comfort
You are persistent and I am unable to get rid of you
You are my end and I’m not sure of your existence
You are beautiful hands twirling a lighter
You are the perfect manicure, French if you please
You are English breakfast brewed for one and a half minutes, with two spoons of sugar and a spot of milk
You are the evil glint in her deceptively pretty eyes
You are the perfect flaw; I am merely a silver sliver
You are the founder of Neverland
You are Tinkerbell and you helped Peter Pan fly
You are dull and dreary
You are my surreal dreams coming alive
You are the catharsis I wish to achieve
You are dewdrops on bright green blades of grass tickling the soles of my feet
You are the thin film of ice formed in Delhi on 6th January 2006
You are the warmth of the sun on their wrinkly old bodies
You are the frustration of a writer who ran out of ink and paper, not words
You are the ‘blue eyed boy meets brown eyed girl’
You are my nemesis
You are my inspiration to scribble in the middle of the night…
Go Figure…
I chopped off my hair. I did. It had become quite long, so much so that I had recently purchased Garnier Fructis Long and Strong – The marketing people really haven’t heard of subtlety! Now, I have to finish that bottle of shampoo. It wasn’t helping anyway…
Hair today, gone tomorrow!
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After another day of waking up late, no breakfast and copious amounts of tea at office I rang the doorbell hoping for another cup of tea and goldflake.
Maa fulfilled these demands, I went and sat next to her, she was working on some… something, and I wanted to know what.
She looked at me and announced to my utter disbelief (such a cliche, how many times have you read that? Gazillion!), well she announced, ‘Get out’. And I stared back, speechless.
‘Just get out! Go away, I am sick of your face!’
I am still too shocked to move or retort or start fighting.
‘Ab jaaa! Leave me alone, Just like you, I need my space too!’
Ok! Point taken.
I laughed for quite sometime and then I watched some TV.
I want my own cave in the himalayas!
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I met her after ages, and I knew what was coming, but the simple green card with a golden Ganesh staring at me freaked me out! I said for the sixty seven thousand five hundred ninety ninth time, “You are getting married. A friend of mine is getting married.” She giggle-laughed (its not quite a giggle and its not fully a laugh – somewhere in between – its one of those things that make me comfortable around her). I ordered some chocolate coffee concoction and drank it up, tried to ignore the horrible music that Barista was sponsoring and talked to her about everything under the sun but the marriage. I asked her if I had to be there and she laughed and informed me that my presence at the Mehndi, the Engagement and the Wedding is of utmost importance.
I have to request for leave now.
Denial.
Breathe.
I am going to try and become a cat person.
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We made sugar syrup for Mojitos and realised that we didn’t have any mint. We also didn’t have enough lemon, but we did have Bacardi! And there were oranges too.
The ice and Limca.
Perfect.
Sugar syrup and lemon make you think there isn’t enough alcohol in the drink, thank god I made it and knew how I had poured and poured and poured Bacardi…
I want to be a bartender or just a cocktail inventor something!
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She likes them luscious lips. I don’t get why. I honestly Don’t. What’s the point of them lips being luscious when he isn’t using Ichiban, the lipstick for men?
She has an accent now, she’s been conversing with people who have accents and she picks up accents very fast. Note the impressive use of the word accent.
Stand up little girl…!
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Its really not nice when you start relating to Vertical Horizon. I mean, who the hell relates to Vertical Horizon’s lyrics! WHO!?
Also, what’s with all these songs. These random men who sit around and come up with even more random lyrics and sing them and their record deals get re-re-re-signed cause they get hit single after hit single.
I want to yell: shut up and write about something new!
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Yeh jo halka halka suroor hai
Yeh teri nazar ka kusoor hai
Ki sharaab peena sikha diya…
Bhakti/Sufi movement must’ve been a lot of fun.
And why can’t I write like that…?
I want to read books and write whatever I feel like writing for a living.
Delhi.
My knight in shining armour, or not.
My favourite food court, but of course.
My friend who loves me no matter what.
My Raju guide, who harps on about the hows, whens, and whys of history.
Kumbhkaran just woke up, and is out to devour a hearty feast!
- with Maharaja band festivities!
Rajnigandha and dew drops on blades of wild grass.
Smoke and stoke, remix dhichik!
The three-pronged vehicle, a new “livin’ on the edge” adventure (everyday)!
Dust, trucks and even pollen, I cough and sputter.
The city breathes, sweats and breeds!
Leaves each one of you breathless and dizzy.
It is alive and changing, & every minute witnesses something spectacular.
The dichotomy is but obvious, as simple as old and new.
The torturous vanvaas was extended because of a wild night out!
Oh, how we’re growing up!
You and me.
