Convoluted reality

A story sounds original as long as it is a story... As soon as it becomes original, it starts sounding like a story... You seem to believe a fictious fact and not a fact! How strange is that?!

A concept that we call love..

First we fell in love...
Then we fell out of love...
In between, though, no love was lost ...
Hell... so, when did we 'love'?

Game of love?

Its useless to possess the body when you are sure the soul isn't for you... Its like venting it out on a prostitute..

A flash back?

I felt cold and lonely...

A vague and misty vision of an uncertain future hovered about me then... Directions were marked clearly towards everywhere... But none of them seemed to take me anywhere...

Trader of dreams

I am a hawker selling dreams... would you like to trade with me??

Broken Dreams

Broken, failed dreams do look artistic, like a crumbled tissue paper smeared with shit...

The book called ‘Penmarric’...

The book called ‘Penmarric’, that I lost (irrecoverably, at that...) to a very dear friend of mine, familiarized me with quite a few nuances of normal life at a very tender age... My voice hadn't even cracked up properly...

The real human weaknesses (Or, abilities?!), so to say… Words (or, should we call them concepts?) like jealously, greed, back-biting, love affairs, seduction, adultery, illegitimacy, inheritance (a far cry from my father’s ideologies) struck right across my face...

Not that they meant much to me then, but at an age I wasn’t too prepared to handle it all came the realization they don’t exist only in books and movies, but are very much around us. Very much, indeed...!

A complete family

If we (my brother and I) loved our mother so much (enough to feel insecure after her death), it dint mean we loved our father any less... it was just that we loved her so much that we believed our family would only be complete with all the four of us together. Both of them, the parents and both of us, the brothers... Any less would make it incomplete...

The pimple

The pimple on the tip of my nose hurt ... whenever it itched, I scratched around it ...
Only I was too scared of breaking it...
Things were cracking up then... I guess...

Age matters??!

May be she is young...
Or may be she was...
Anyways, she is beautiful...

Apocalypse ... Now??

Since quite long I’ve been wondering about what exactly ‘Apocalypse’ means. But being very lazy, just to check the dictionary, I let it go…

Recently a friend of mine explained me what it means… Apocalypse: a prophetic revelation, esp. concerning a cataclysm in which the forces of good permanently triumph over the forces of evil. Or, any revelation or prophecy. Or, any universal or widespread destruction or disaster: the apocalypse of nuclear war.

But point isn’t its dictionary meaning. He taught me a history behind the concept ‘Apocalypse’, which would have never occurred to me had I tried the other way…

Monsoons in Cochin

Given the rainy season ... there couldn’t be a better topic than this at this point of time... Moreover, my brother too had a similar write up on this in his blog.…

Much like him, I too have begun to hate the monsoons in Cochin - even though we waste reams and reams of paper (hours before the computer - typing - in my case) writing adjectives to hard sell the concept of a romantic monsoon in Kerala to a visiting discerning tourist from abroad...

For a traveler visiting, may be for a short period of time, that too within the safe confinements of a resort or a hotel, it might seem amusing... but not for an average citizen who has to move around and work on a daily basis...

With the incessant, heavy rains inundating the city, water-logging the inner streets, and the main roads, uprooting trees, disrupting power supply for hours together, jamming telephone network, for the routine commuters, be it on the bus or the two wheelers or the four wheelers, often find it near impossible just to get around… getting to the next junction, so to say… besides you have to survive with that irritating dampness, all day long… Not to mention your work, coming to an absolute standstill…

And looking out of the window right now, I don’t find romance … but the upturned ‘underground’ water tank (victim of a raised water table)… and an uneasy thought haunts you … God, what about corporation water supply for another one week….

Forget the work pressure, forget the deadlines, and forget your client’s fury… When its raining in Cochin…its raining cats and dogs and ... God knows what else…!

A moment's pleasure...

He covered the naked heap of flesh in front of him and stole a kiss from its lips...

Maybe she'd wanted this...
Or, may be he'd forced it on her...
And as he watched her in glowing moonlight, she stirred in her sleep...

A faint smile appeared on her face... Or, was that a figment of his imagination??

Tainted intellect...

She is certainly not a thinker.. And not a philosopher... not in the remotest of the senses... Only a profit seeking trash producing gossip monger...

All she knows ... is to strain her eyes through her tainted glasses... looking at the so called man's society.... And paint the world with the colour of her dirty mind...

She calls herself a writer and claims to be an intellect... And always get away with her histrionics?!... by calling her critics jealous losers who could never make it as writers...!

Reasons.... Ahh.... Reasons....!!!

"I am sorry too..."
"Its not your fault, I am delibrately not calling you..."
"I am punishing myself..."
"I am stopping myself from not calling you..."
"I admit, it's all my mistake..."
"But I am controlling myself..."

"To hell with you and your reasons.....All you have ever done is drive me crazy, girl.... So pray, never call me again!!!"

The Break up..

Inspite of being happy for not having to reject her... I felt bad for myself... for having been rejected...

Freedom...

Let's dedicate at least one day of our lives to...
All those who died,
So that you and I live...!!
All those who fought
so that you and I are safe..!
All those who suffered
So that you and I enjoy...!!!
Exercise your freedom. Express your joy.

This is an old entry. Not quite sure (which is why I labeled it as 'quote', to be on the safe side) if I wrote this for some advertising campaign, which is quite unlikely. Or, did I simply copy it from some where...

A big compromise... called life.

Question isn't what your way of life is, but how comfortable you are with it?

For the sake of it, I dint really go on with the flow... as the time demands... I hate adjustments... I am scared of it lest it may turn my life into one big adjustment...

A compromise isn't what I bargained for afterall...

You. My love.

Your dreamy voice.
Your mysteriousness.
Your silence.

I know nothing about you more than this. And may be, that's what I love about you.

The beautiful one

'What's it?', she asked.
'Its a dream', I answered, 'Its a dream that'll make you the most beautiful person in the world.'