iv been pushed .... violently ... in a direction.

and im hoping its the right one! :)




so this ends here.

its pouring outside and i have nowhere to go

(and even after restarting it takes me over a mth to come up with something .....anything ....)

its been two years and its all still the same.... the city hasnt changed one bit. The same places, roads, signs, even people.... the guy at my dep, the fat waitress at mcgibbins, the lady behind the counter at jmsb, the salesgirl at the store down the road..... even the bums down on st. catherine...

whats changed really is me.... us ....all of us. we'v changed so much that you couldnt place us even if you squinted really hard and tilted your head sideways... (sideways sideways sideways.... :)... memories of a different era)

walking down the street sometimes i turn a corner and sometimes wonder if i stopped. and walked backwards if could i go back to that day that year when we were all walking down this street together .....(at night in the rain down to the dep to buy chocolate)

....and if i stayed still. here for long enough.... could i too become like the city.... still.... unchanging.

but that could never happen.
were so different now. so far removed. even those that stayed here.
lives move on ..... everything always changes.

2 years away and i come back to these streets and i feel a strange sense of nostalgia. Its like a ghost town in a way. stuck in time. with transparent memories of those that were floating up and down these streets. theyr not dead ....my friends... those moments... our memories. So then why does it feel so ....just so.

this. my home away from home.... yet iv never felt like this in khi. i guess iv never been away from it for this long. and i guess khi changes so much in a fortnight that change there is something one gets accustommed to .... its this sameness thats unfamiliar.

...but really

its good to be back. :)

its been dead for so long.

i havnt written consistently in over a year.

I know...because I just skimmed through two years worth of writing on my part. And its all gone now.... no new words seem to spew from me anymore :S..... But i need to start again.bus. I need stories. I need to create something out of nothing again. And even though I have been doing that in other ways. I'd hate the thought of words (or anyone really) leaving me.

So im thinking ill start again. From scratch (in a way) ....

I was thinking of letting this one go and starting afresh. But then i thought if im not fresh...then why should my blog be :)

Personal Space please

[a rant from the work place to kick off the new year]

the black and orange comfort of my cublicle has been painted over a sterile white accompanied by a toxic smell which seems to be eating out my insides.... (or maybe im just in a melodramatic place ..... but the sterile thing is definatly not helping....)
And then this girl (or bitch whichever you prefer) from the other side, decides that my newly castrated work station is the perfect place for her to place her disproportionate behind and to consume food that will no doubt add to her already inflated proportions. Now im a relatively considerate person in work place (emphasis on relatively ofcourse) ....but if your going to be sitting ur ass on my DESK and have the nerve to suggest that I continue working while you finish lunch ... well honey that is just isn't going to happen. I dont care if there are no space left on God's green earth for you to have lunch on or if you have to pry a chair from the hands of a corpse in order to make some space for yourself...Get-the-FUCK-OFF-MY-DESK-BITCH! And fast!
Sigh ...and the worst of it is the looks of indignation, no less ....at the idea that i am not comfortable with having your ugly ass inches away from my face while you eat fucking saalan .... what the fuckkkk?!?!!? honestly ...as far as someone like you in concerned ...i really dont give a daymn! Pile on the bad karma go ahead! But if you havnt an ounce of decency/work ethic/respect then you could be eating of the fucking floor for all i care ....as long as its not the floor under, near or around my fucking desk!!!!!

it will always be me :)

well... did you?!

'That is why, in families that kept the ancient traditions, girls were not allowed to meet men until the moment of auspicious seeing, shubho drishti, when the bride and groom gave themselves to each other with their eyes. It wasn’t, as Anju said, to keep the woman ignorant and under control. The elders in their wisdom had done it to prevent heartbreak.'
- Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni [Excerpt: Sister of My Heart. Lifted from: http://pkblogs.com/expressome]


She found it uncomfortable to look directly into the eyes, of people, when she talked to them. I realize now its because when she did, she opened herself to them; an open invitation to come on in ... willing or unwilling, it seems, she gave a part of herself away when she did. Her eyes opened up in ways when he/they stared at her. She felt certain connections, sometimes, and in affection, she met the connection halfway. To her thats what it was; a connection, affection .... an experience.. but they always seemed to see/want more. (an experience .... what makes it such a bad word? to experience a thing and keep it to that .... its what life is after all .... one experience or rather one daymn thing after another) Its ______ [insert appropriate adjective] what the eyes can do, the things that are said without meaning to. ... (and whats even more is, sometimes, the things read without even being there ...)

Perhaps it was something about her eyes. Or maybe it was something about those who chose to look in.

("did you look at him in the same way?")