I fell.
Gloriously dark. So, very, dark. Smoke filled rooms welcome red lipped women. She enters. One pedicured foot follows the other. She walks, she saunters, she makes haste at the same time. Black clings to her pale skin. Skin that has only been kissed by the moon.
Shiraz is a cliche that looks good on her. She tastes it, savours it, devours it. Her lips – a bloody red. We stare. Stare at the smoke and the very red lips. Stare at her heaving a sigh. We light her cigarette. We light our cigarettes. Smoke washes over our skin. So soft. So beautiful in soft candle light. In a haze of smoke. She flicks the cigarette ash all over me.
I stare. I just stare. Unblinking. Slow… Touch her. Follow her. Walk faster, I tell myself. Move. Do something. The ash washes over me. Specks of orange disappear into a dull grey. I stare. Unmoving. Unflinching. She owns me. I gladly submit. I stare with parted lips. She looks through me, she always does. She owns me, and doesn’t care. I follow her retreating frame; tears exposing my ridiculously powdered face.
Shiraz stained and covered in ash. In a trance. One unsteady step after the other… keeping enough distance between us. She shouldn’t know I fell.
C. Si?
I am such an addict…
… Coffee.
Cigarettes.
Chocolates.
Chai.
Cash. Makes sense eh?
Si(gh).
Spring snippets
I didn’t witness spring, even though I woke up from winter slumber much earlier than usual. Spring left for better, happier places. Winter never really arrived. Summer is already here, sleepy and tired and in need of coffee. Now they warn us Summer can be pretty mean this year. Very harsh and inconsiderate, very hot – too hot to touch – we will all just stare in a wondrous stupefied manner. AC cabs won’t help. AC buildings will throw our systems into a tizzy. Home will involve sneaking into the other AC room and avoiding one’s loved non-air-conditioned baker’s paradise of a room. All this would’ve been alright, but I didn’t even witness Spring! She didn’t say hi! She didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Sigh.
***
People are always playing games. No, not with me, they know better. I hate games, I get tired and bored and walk off in search of brand new entertainment. People are getting married. People are finding each other. People are breaking up. Break ups are horrid. They are competitions, blame games, mud slinging matches, below the belt attacks… they hurt and it hurts how much you hurt the other person. They make you not believe in the goodness of human beings. They make you doubt your sanity, your choices, your ability to keep someone happy, worse still, be happy. They raise doubts; they make people cry and abuse and point fingers and act like Rakhi Sawant normally would. Okay, they act like the Jerry Springer people! And when someone tries to avoid the drama, they end up disappointing the dumped. The dumpee says it all politely, doesn’t cry, doesn’t play the blame game. The dumped points out that s/he is disappointed as the dumpee didn’t list out his/her grievances. Wow. Isn’t it? So much for being nice. It’s a true story, I just got the news, Gtalk Zindabaad!
***
Everyone should just go get some. If they got some, they won’t be so frustrated and ridiculously emo all the time. Men won’t have sticks up their &^%$ and PMSing through the month. And women won’t be non-glowing, non-endorphin effusing stringy haired emo wrecks. People go get some. Or just be self sufficient. But do NOT tell me how long its been or that the opposite sex is not for you when you are straight. Then who is it that does it for you? Kermit the Frog?! Tchah! I am going to propose free cranberry juice for all (okay, subsidised?). Smile people! Smile! And I thought I was the grinch reincarnate. Chheh.
***
Some people were just born angels. They are beautiful, gorgeous, adorable, simply lovely angels. No, not the Christopher Moore idea of angels. But just ridiculously nice people. They are good and kind and so nice to just have around. They make me sane. Unless of course they start apologising, they do NOT stop. It’s scary and very irritating. Well, such people should be under my care and protection, and I swear if someone intentionally hurt them, I will destroy him/her. And the angel will be asked to sit back, devour pasta and cake while watching said destruction. Be scared, be very scared. Harrrumph.
***
I missed the Spring. The only evidence of Spring was that lazy Sunday afternoon at your place. There were flowers everywhere. Chinese oranges too! Red, Blue, Purple, Maroon, Pink, more Red, more Blue, so much Yellow! Painted to perfection. Such gorgeous, delicate, lovely flowers. Flowers I cannot call by their names. And such lovely grass. Green and soft and welcoming. If only we could get rid of all those multi-legged things that crawl or fly or jump. If only. I missed the Spring. I miss the Sunday. I miss lazy hazy yummy Sundays. Come with me to Lala-land. Please…
What eeet eez!
I have been busy and hiding. Weird eh?
I have been Powerpointing a lot! Haa!
I have seen a LOT of Gilmore Girls.
I have also baked and cooked and roasted. Good fun.
And have even managed this.
My phone bill was less than half the usual amount. Yes, there is something wrong, very wrong about this.
Most importantly, Shopping for wedding gifts has been quite unproductive. Any help? Suggestions?
Sometime later: Here here! Its my best friend’s wedding. No, I’m not going to try and sabotage it. So, budget is manageable, not enough for a holiday but enough for something beautiful. Now, ideas! Please!
Sometime after later: I should ban her from the blog eh?
Nyooz. Noose. News.
Even before the DTH cable entry into India with its organised menu options, my father’s obsessive channel arranging had us spoilt. I used to surf only movies and music. Not much has changed. I like my mindless TV watching, its therapeutic. Verymuchlyso. Don’t believe me?
Well… I tried watching the News yesterday. I flipped channels…
1. Shahid and Anushka! Yashraj ne bana di jodi! (They will be doing the next Yashraj film together or something)
2. Osama kahan hai? (Where is Osama)
3. Varun Gandhi ka khatarnak VISH! (Varun Gandhi’s dangerous poisonous speech…)
4. America ko dushman, America ke Hotel Hyatt mein! (Blah)
5. You can tie the knot in Juliet’s balcony! For EUR 1000!
6. Varun Gandhi plays communal card
By this time I was quite hassled; mom asked me “What can you do about all this? Nothing. Right? Why are you watching it then?” I stared at her with large confused eyes and thin pursed lips. She said, “Uff. Watch your news!”
I turned my attention back to the television. I read this and smiled.
Whowouldhavethunkit?!
