Nov. 15th, 2010
Everything can be negated. My cousin sister bleeds inside yet she must pretend that everything is alright and it's not. I feel more pain and angst for a person that I don't fully know. A book moves me more than the death of a loved one. People say that i am weird or is it the other way round?
I would do anything for you baby. The heat's nothing. Rules don\t apply to me. I would cross anything for you. I am obsessed and obsesssion knows no rules.
I want to reach out tear out this guise of normalcy.
I want your soul and you would give it to me if i had my way with you. But you and I are never ever going to share anything like that. I hold myself back and i think you are too. But sometimes there's so much that's pent up I rage inside. I don't want to make love to you. It would be too simple. Who am I when I am with you. And who are you when you're with me. Is this a game where we both don't know who's being played?
And he asked me if I was alright. I smiled, because it would have been too much of an effort to explain. He told me that I looked sad. Is that how my face would have looked when I was consumed in thought about her?. She told me once this double-guessing had to stop, it's easy to say but too hard to see it actually through. I saw Chasing Amy today and I felt and all but familiar gut wrenching realization as the scenes unfolded. I tell her that she's unlike anyone I know but that's only because she wants to hear that. Still it's not entirely untrue. She should ideally react differently, but she won't and I know that. And I wonder will there be a pay-off?. Would she bare herself to me completely only for me to break her in. I don't think that will happen, she's way too guarded to let me in. yet, if she only she let me in.
Genevieve didn't appear surprised to see me and she squeezed her eyes to let me know that she had seen me and i her. I should have been happier. It's a good thing i hadn't seen her earlier. I would have done everything for her benefit.
Aug. 1st, 2009
I wish I had stocked my house with some sort of liqour. On weekends it is getting harder to sleep. I can't seem to quieten my mind, to get it to relax. My thoughts stray this way and that. Nothing definite, nothing concrete. I read signals most of which maybe illusions. How much better it was 3 months ago when I was oblivious to it all. All I needed to do was go to work and get through the day. Now my mind plays tricks with me that may not even be anything but a figment of my imagination.
Everything I watch nowadays reminds me of you. I drive to work and listen to songs that amplify pictures of you. It's not love of that I am sure. I felt that only once and that too till the time you came back to me. I relished the self masochist feeling of a broken heart. I bled for a month and a half it's true. I did not know when it healed or when I stopped caring. There was a time when I thought I could not get through the day without you. Now all these years later I am still amazed that I felt that way. I see people making mockeries of that in movies. Do you know that what we both felt merely makes us statistics?. A lot of people know about you because I let them in and have a peak at what we had.
It's true that I continue to dwell in my past. I could milk it for all it's worth and still the possibilities are endless.
Where does it all go. When do we stop to write. It used to be that i could not wait to get to the computer so I could type whatever came to my mind. Baby when I write what I write, it's not so that these words can reach you. I honestly don't think you would care. No I write to the you and I that we left behind in Bangalore. Remember the nights we bought cheap Rum and capsicum bajjis and listened to tamil songs on my broken down stereo. Wish you were there with me tonight. It's lonely here. I know you are busy and that life must have caught up with you. Still is it too much to ask that you set your thoughts free, so that you and I can take a walk down Jayanagar 4th T Block. It still rains there and the leaves are heavy with drops. I bet if you and walked together there would be at least one branch that I could yank so that there would be a curtain of rain drops.
Sep. 6th, 2007
It is getting harder for me to write nowadays. Where it was possible initially to type out words at random about things which caught my fancy, I find I can no longer write. I don't know what has taken over me. A writer's block afflicts only writers and I am not a writer by a long stretch. I used to write about emptiness and loneliness, two sides of despair. I may have milked that emotion for all it was worth. The funny thing is that they have still not left me. They border on the periphery every time I am alone.
I speak a lot nowadays and that is an all consuming task. I have to keep populating my mouth with words which don't mirror my thoughts. I speak and I can't hear what I am saying. I speak and the words that come out paint only inflict more pain and a sense of alienation. I have no friends here only people who smile when they have to and pass judgment when I least deserve it. I wish my friends never got married. I can never find favor with any of my friend's spouses. I may come across as odd, because I am forever going against my grain. I am vulgar, I drink and can occasionally be interesting even. I am never given the benefit of the doubt. I am given few hours to perform and I am left exhausted pretending.
Jul. 24th, 2007
10:54 am - a white rainbow
Appreciation is the drug that drives me nowadays. I guess till such time I carve a niche for myself in Etihad I will thirst for approval. I look around my department and envy the easy camaraderie, because I need to prove myself here. I know there are scores books out in the market that would tell me not to put so much emphasis on other people’s opinions but to me they matter over a period of time. Once it sets in though I find my groove. I have not been able to fully exorcise my demons with regard to my old job. After nearly four years I can see the person who had become a shadow. I wake up at 4:30 now and I jog and it’s never hard, nor is it a sacrifice. I am not losing weight so much as shedding the second skin which I had assumed in ADNIC. But memories like the extra kilo is proving to be stubborn. I visit the gym in the evenings and when I can honestly see visualize what I can be in 3 months time. I know I will never tire in the pursuit of what I had been, maybe because I miss that person so much. Ash would have like to know him I am sure. I have taken up my CII exams and suddenly that is a reachable goal as well. If luck has favored me this time, I have been around long enough to know that it’s a fickle trickster. When I do my push-ups and emerge sweat soaked, is it any different from when I did them in the stadium in Jayanagar, Bangalore. Back then, I would finish off my work outs and stroll to have my ½ cup of coffee. The day spread out infront of me with absolutely nothing to offer me. I lacked the motivation and drive to be anything but to exist. Now when my shoulder’s burn with the effort of my toil, it’s a sweet feeling. It has taken me this long to remember what I had forgotten.
Jun. 25th, 2007
11:00 am - An opaque reflection
Sitting here locked away,
Invisible threads lay scattered,
Some shorn, some cut and some laced with my blood,
I am numb, my soul sold
I lie, because I want to amuse myself
I pretend to feel angst when all that is left is a shell
My tone reflects my audience
When they judge me, do they realize that I judge them as well
I am unforgiving, biased and subjective
Objectivity is something I reserve for myself
I look at the rainbow in an oil streaked pool
Imperfection surrounds me everywhere
I labor to inflict pain,
Sweat soaked, lust spent, I have nothing left,
My gaze takes in this world I have put together,
The glue is coming apart,
My foundation laid on quick sand
I am the line that the Sun sets into,
The curve that swallows the moon.
Jun. 24th, 2007
11:58 am - Rohit
It’s been a while since I have done this. Writing is not something I can revisit at well. I unfortunately try to sound clever when I write, which should have been easy if I were intelligent to begin with. Everything I have experienced of late has been dreary and seeped in monotony. Earlier I looked everywhere to find words that I could write down. I had time then, which has since then become a luxury. I sit in front of the monitor now and all I feel now is the urge to be somewhere else. I cannot control my mind to come up with anything original that has not been done before.
I realize now that I had started this journal to record events and memories. Somewhere along the way, it served as a mirror to my past. The past can only be milked for so long. Actually as I get older the past is not as I remember it, recollection has somehow dulled the edges and robbed it of it’s perfume. What I have in it’s stead are memories that go any way I want them to. I have realized that I can look at the past not as it happened but how I think it should have happened.
In the passage of a week I know that Mukesh’s son’s called Rohit and Hitesh continues to flirt with delusion or perhaps is it the other way round.?. I know also from a stale conversation that Latha will deliver some time this week. Yesterday I ran on dredged land, where once the sea stripped of it’s dignity came to cleanse itself. Sweat drenched I walk back and the twilight beckons me unforgiving as always. So maybe nothing really changes.
Mar. 9th, 2007
I finally got my U.A.E. driving license yesterday, 8th of March, 2007. Another dream has been realised, perhaps a little later than it should have been. Did I have other priorities?, maybe or maybe not. My mother would say that there is a time for everything and perhaps therein lies the key. There is a time to wish for, a time to give your soul to that wish, live it breathe and then let the belief sink in.
The road beckons to me. I have sat on the passenger seat for far too long, now it's time to sit in the driver's seat.
Ride. The wind, and the stars await you.
Feb. 9th, 2007
I learnt about Latha's father passing away in the same five minutes that I was informed she was two months pregnant. A whirlpool of emotions seized me. Death dances everywhere, and life spawns birth as if it's the dancer never the dance.