Tuesday, August 28

Candy for two, me and you

The soft riff of an acoustic rings in my head. In a moment of repreive from the urban hustle, i'm looking for my moment of peace. Some people who won't ever get to this blog, deny me of it. Today i think of you. Each one. Most. And how i wafted into the mellow sunset while you were waiting at the beach. I am sorry to have given expectations, to us both. I'm sorry for unmade promises. Unkept. Isn't it a bad bargain, if i expect nothing of you at all? So i do. Hope, you release me from myself. And from you. You know how sweet a candy is, as much as i do. But it melts in itself, melts in you. It isn't meant to melt you. It's worth a moment of sweetness. A sweet aftertaste. And then, it slowly disappears. First, the candy. Then the taste. Then, the aftertaste. Like me. Like you.
I have thought of you since, in case you ever wondered.
And now, when i want my peace, I wonder if you still do.

Friday, August 24

a small dose of change

Okay, i agree here again, the posts are trickling in slowly. Slower than usual. To my own self, half as good, twice as bad as they ever got. Hopefully, it will change beginning with the template. I have been looking for the ideal template for a long time now. It's in ways, the story of my life these days. Hunting for the ideal template. Sometimes age teaches you a lot of things, arguably, a lot more than you need to know. And you don't know if you are the child with dreams or the adult with responsibilities. You must know however that you don't need to know either. Simply chase your dreams. It's the only responsibility you have, towards the only one you owe something. Yourself.
I started bouncing with the usual madness again. Thats when i realised how many knots were left tied. Everyday over the last week, i untied every single one of them. So today calls for a special cheers. A new template. A new post. And perhaps, taking off the blue sunglasses for soaking up the weekend sunshine.
The Dashboard tells me that it's blogger's eigth anniversary.
Cheers, to a healthy piece of software.
The lads from Anfield are playing their hearts out. Makes me incredibly happy for the club I supported all my life. Liverpool. Even when we were losing everything inculding pride, players and points.Now these boys inspire the Kop that stood behind them in their darkest days, roaring always,
"You'll Never Walk Alone"
Hoping for a good game, G comes back from M'lore, so hopefully the pints are on him.
For all else, Cheers.
P.S Does the new layout work?

Monday, August 20

words for no words

madness, madness inside of me,
which side should i turn to see
rainbow prisms of eternal hope
a limitless horizon of endless scope
madness, madness don't stop short
a whiff of freshness i yearn to snort
when i rhyme more than i ought
i know my writing's outta sort.
madness, madness find me words
words my head hasn't long heard
words for you and me, you know,
read better, written best - these words
quench some unknown quest.

Friday, August 17


I wonder if I have become dispassionate all of a sudden. It's almost more than two months since i wrote my final paper. I wasn't on top of the world then. For no reason. I wasn't waiting for the results all this while. They were inconsequential. Always were. It's not an alibi for not doing well. I did rather well lately. Today when the results were announced, i had landed myself a score i'd willingly accept with a smile a couple of months back. A score i'd have considered to be an indulgent dream in my first few years of engineering. A score that will be an ornate etching on a worthless degree. And today, i had surpassed my expectation and also my critical evaluation. But i was unmoved. I wasn't happy. But i wasn't sad either. I felt nothing. Not even relief. Just felt like i didn't care anymore. Or maybe, i couldn't care any less.
A few calls had to be made to a few people. People to whom this meant something. They were happy. Not for my degree, but for me. Congratulations, good words, all, everything. I wasn't happy. For them, myself or my degree. Just blank.
For four years this was a dream. For four years it faded. Today it meant nothing. A worthless degree that certifies my participation in the rat race. Nothing more than a cheap poster of erudition that generations of unresisting youth have used as passport to a world that recognises them by labels. Graduates.
I also wonder whether this whole management thing will prove to be any better. It'll be a slightly well heeled race. Running with cats instead of rats. Running nevertheless, with animals. Like animals. In the middle of chasing lucid capitalist dreams, i wonder if i'll still be that somebody who's happy lying on the terrace gazing at the stars.
Wondering which ones are his.

Friday, August 10

Between the cup and the lip

I am here after so long, that i almost feel like an alien in my own blog. I guess i have never not written myself out for over 10 days since i've begun blogging. Ofcourse i was here, but i just couldn't get myself to write the way I would love to.
Writer's block? Maybe.
What started as a set of questions on a weekend a couple of weeks back, snowballed into a set questions that i hadn't asked myself in a long time. Maybe i could shrug them off easily if i had the answers. But the truth is, i had no answers.
Sometimes, we ask ourselves the wrong set of questions at the wrong time. Wrong set of questions because they have no right answers. Wrong time because you there's so much going on in life which promises to be perfect, that you could really do without the personal interrogation.
Damn the conscience. But such is life and such are it's questions. You can't really do much unless you have the answers.
Bloody bubbles in your favourite cocktail that refuse to burst before you shake it or after you sip it. Life in all its shades is that cocktail right now and I don't want to shake it. Nor burp.


Fun things. In a bi-monthly chronicle for a stupid club in the western suburbs, i had to put in some quotes. This time around, i put in Jim Morrison and Che Guevera in the first copy instead of their routine Bapu, Tagore and Woodrow Wilson. I thought they would send it back asking for the usual. They didn't. So now their white collared middle age patrons will have the Lizard king beaming at them on the first page saying;

"Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power. You are free"

Yeah Baby! Even if one of them raises an eyebrow wondering how Morrison and Ernesto got to page one, i'd say.. job well done!!


I'm quitting work completely. Till i'm broke again. Split in unequal halves, unpreparing for CAT and Copywriting, i realised i was doing neither too well. The ideas were running dry, the money stopped appealing, cracking campaigns was not a high anymore; mere riddance. I was in the middle. For people who have been in the middle, they'd know that it's a nowhere really. Neither motivating myself enough after work to get cracking on those sums, nor being able to think freely during work. Knowing i should rather be at home preparing for my dive into capitalism. As i sip my steaming cup of coffee, i think i know where i am.
Between the cup and the lip


Hope. What is life without hope? That spark in your eyes before you go to sleep, promising a better tomorrow. The velvet canvas for all your dreams. The ray of light in your worst nightmare. The string that holds your soggy laundry, hung out to dry. You hope that things change, for the better. You hope you find answers before questions and questions with answers.
Sometimes though, when you are between the cup and the lip, you simply hope to make it to the other side. Always hoping you do enough, to justify that Hope.