Random Pain

11th of november 07:

I wish we were normal.
I wish that night had never happened.
I wish we didnt bruise so easily.
I wish we didn hold this kind of power over the ones we love
But it did happen and we are a mess.
bruised battered and brocken are we.

sheepishly we glance at eachother, aware of the gaping hole.
aware of the suffering pain yet pretending not to be.
the hurt and the agony in my eyes,
a reflection of that in his.

Forgiven n forgotten he n i said it was.
A lie each found easier to tell than to face.
What one had done to the other in a careless thought.
a thoughtless whisper, a whispering silence.

Each is the others emotional doom.
as the gap widens and lengthens,
the will to keep at it fades.
Does the love fade? No, it burns red hot.
but the sun of regret is out and the fire dwindles.

with no will and a dwindling fire emptyness is created.
More pain. More hurt. fueled desire to break.
All caused one random night.
in a thoughtless whisper, in a whispering silence.
Unplanned.
A simple prelude to the end.

A Fire Inside

[written on the 15th of December While out on a trip]

Sitting by the fire, an onslaught of memories. It flickers and sways like my train of thought. Pausing for a moment, steady, while I dwell over a preserved moment.
A fire that appeared yellow turns into a vivid rainbow. A mixture of yellow and orange, tapering at the top to clear, forming a mirage of images over the brown logs aytop of which appears blue bordering to indigo turning black at the heart where the coals burned an angry turbulent red.
Thought upon thought is thought with emotion. A happy smile, a shy feeling, a twist of hatred, a gripping fear, a resentful twitch, a content sigh of satisfaction.
I remember a whispered word, relive a silent moment. I stare into the heart of the fire with all the fire in my heart! Glorius moments of my past, my histoy.
Sitting by the fire, an onslaught of memories.

What a Wonderful World.

So my half yearlies just finished and I wrote this expository essay on "Stars." I quite like it so here goes..

What A Wonderful World
I sighed as I looked up at the stars. Louis Armstrong's voice in my head singing, 'What a Wonderful World.' I lay back as I watched the night sky twinkle and shine, happy content feelings swirling within my being. What a wonderful world indeed.
I hear the breeze, the silent stalker, ruffle the grass that I am lying upon and I shiver as it washes over me. A cricket chirps its serenade to the moon. A sweet scent of a flower I can't name hangs about me. What a wonderful world...
It had been a good day, a good week in fact. For once, there had been no complications, no politics, no dynamics to deal with. A well deserved break, I reasoned. I had a tough, turbulent week before this one and was glad to be out of it.
Things just seemed to go right, no explosions of extreme emotions, no noticeable mistakes, no insane thoughts. It was good to be alive, under the stars. What a wonderful world...
The greatest enigma comes to my mind, the ability of these twinkling specks of fire in the night sky, to make me feel better. The stars. Always shining, sometimes hidden by the clouds, yet always there. I aspire to be like them, to not let the clouds of my life dim my shine. Nor to let the sun of others make me feel any less significant. My train of thought slowly fades away as I spot Orion, the constellation. It washes over me. What a wonderful world...
I think of my day. The highlight of my day. He had smiled at me. He had smiled as he said my name, a twinkle in his eyes. I sighed once again, remembering that smile. It had felt like I was the only girl, standing there before him smiling back. I think of the twinkle, like a star in his eye. What a wonderful world.
A glimmer of hope resides within me, of what could be. A seed he planted with that smile. An overwhelming feeling takes control of my body, spreading the warmth to my toes. What a wonderful world.
I lose myself in fantasy. I flee reality and I walk on clouds. I contemplate the implications of that smile, the thoughts and feelings behind it. A number of them are conjured in my mind. I pick the one I like best and build a fairytale around it, all the while gazing at the stars. What a wonderful world.
I push away the ghosts of my past letting only the angels of the present play about my mind. Snippets of reality play hide and seek in my imagination as my soul soars above the world riding on my own star, with him by my side. The possibilities of adventure are numerous as I look ahead to a bright twinkling future. With him by my side, what isn't possible? I am lost in the intricate web of my fantasy, woven with stars, far from reality. What a wonderful world.
'Hoot!' I am brought back to the real world as an owl prepares to hunt for the night. A flash streaks across the sky and I see a shooting star. I wish to freeze this moment, preserve this memory, forever. I wish upon a star. What a wonderful world.

Pointless.

"False face must hide what the false heart doth know."
-Macbeth
Shakespeare

Translation: A treacherous heart must be hidden by a deceptive face.

How many times have you done that in your life? How many times have you tried to hide things, maybe not treacherous things, but things none the less, by pretending its all okay. Like nothing matters. Like it doesn't matter. Like the thoughts aren't yours.
How many times have you hurt someone by just not showing your heart, by showing a deceptive face? Pretending like you don't care. Seeming to feel that way.
How many times have you been someone your not.
Why cant you just be. What do you have to prove? And to whom? Are you ashamed of being yourself.
After all, your the only one who has to live with you.
Not being you... but someone else...
Its just pointless.
absolutely pointless.

-Not the kind of thoughts you need running through your head before an English Litereature Exam.

The Truth About Forever.

"We start slow, the way we always did, because the run, and the game, could go on for awhile. Maybe even forever.
That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really about. It was twenty minutes, or a hundred years, or just this instant, or any instant I wished would last and last. There was only one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening. right then, and every moment afterwards. Look, there. Now. Now. Now. "
-The Truth About Forever
Sarah Dessen


Forever is a concept only you can define. My forever, is still undefined. At least for another moment, another year, another month, another day. Forever.

Word Vol 3

FANCY PANTS!
Yea, I think I've heard this phrase for the first time in 10 years yesterday.
It feels great to run up to the roof and just yell out to the world.
To have the world know that you don't give a CRAP about what they have to say.
To just shout out "FANCY PANTS"
Its exhilarating.
Ahh! Exhilarating. Another exhilarating word. :)

Haunted and Trivial

Their eyes, they still haunt me! Its been 2 weeks and I can't get that image out of my head. The image of addiction, poverty and a shattered dream.
Our school decided to take us on a 'night out.' On this 'night out' we were taken to chandini chawk in Delhi. Its where most homeless people live. This entire program is part of a BTG(Bridge The Gap) class. It focuses on showing us privileged children what the world is actually like, what India is actually like.
So it started in the evening, around 6 we left from school and reached chandini chawk around 9. We first walked across a bridge, where people rented mattresses for the night. I believe it was Rs.20/- a charpai, Rs.10/- a mattress and Rs.5/- extra for a blanket. it was estimated that about two hundred people sleep on that stretch of bridge which was approximately 300-400 meters long.
after that we walked the streets to a shelter. On the way we saw this girl, about 10 years old, lying on the side of the road. Her hair was matted and spread out around her head like a deathly hallow, her eyes were a milky blue staring into the depths of nothing, her mouth, slightly agape, displayed teeth that were yellow and rotted. her skin was a bit pastel-ish. She lay there, alone, I couldn't tell if she was alive. If she had died, nobody felt it was worth mentioning. people walked passed her with averted eyes and right into the neighboring McDonald's to grab a burger.
We soon reached the shelter where we were taken inside in groups of 20.
At the shelter, we learned of random police raids, of murders, of framing. The misery of the people was well summarized by a vocal local who had been staying at the shelter for over 5 years: "They don't know who committed whatever crime they maybe investigating so they automatically assume it's one of us. They believe as the homeless we shall resort to crime. What they don't understand is we make up to Rs 500/- and more in a day. we just don't have a house to come home to. That doesn't make us villains, criminals and murderers. We just want to live, to eat, to sleep, without suspicion. Peace"
"What can I do to help you ?"
"Nothing, you can do nothing except give us jobs."
How can we help these people, how are we supposed to help people who not only don't know who they are but also they don't even know what they are. Are we supposed to employ those thousands who already claim to earn 500 a day, are we to pay 15000 rupees to a person who doesn't know what his name is, who doesn't know what colour a tree is? What are we to do to help? How can we help? By the end of everything I feel the correct question would remain - Can anyone do anything to help?
We moved on.
We reached a garden. Children everywhere! Not one sober. Each in his own world, each in his own Nasha(high). We attempted to interact with the children. A seven year old boy answers my question on food, he says, "Didi, I don't care if I get my food or not. I need my Rs. 50/- worth of Nasha. Even if I can't collect the money, I borrow, I cheat, I steal, but I need my Nasha."
Children everywhere! Not one sober. We took a walk through the garden. I passed a man standing there with an aimless mission in his bulging yet vacant eyes which followed us along our path towards darkness and aimless lives. He was standing there. His mouth agape. Standing there, lurching. I still cant forget, I wont, I cant.
Children everywhere! Not one sober. A mother, holding a handkerchief soaked in drug to her infants nose. How can they escape the ghost, when the ghost they are brought up on becomes a part of them. How are they to escape something that without realisation has become something as precious to them as the blood running in their veins, the very blood adulterated by this ghost.
Children everywhere! not one sober. Their eyes, the vacancy, the lost dream, the hopelessness.
"Don't pity us. That's not what we want. Its our way of life. circumstances have made it such. Don't pity us. This is who we are"
I'm left standing. A clueless privileged child.
I'm left standing. Hollow and empty.

A few days ago, I was watching TV and there was this whole half hour report on this man that got beat up for committing a minor robbery. I could not help but think what if this man was just another one of the homeless believed to have resorted to crime, just "believed to have." He got beat up so bad that he almost died. He had stolen something insignificant so he could eat for that day. A police officer was responsible for his beating. He was attached to a motorcycle by his ankle and dragged along the road wearing only a dhoti. He was slapped and beaten and kicked until you could see he had turned blue even though his skin was a very dark colour. He was kicked in the face by 3 people who had shoes on. On lookers laughed and his mother was made to watch. She went mad with horror and she was slapped to bring her back to her senses. She too was tortured and told that the son she had didn't deserve to live, didn't deserve a fair trial, didn't deserve compassion. He took it all, what could he do? All for one meal. All this done on live TV.
Makes me feel like I have been living in Utopia compared to the Dystopia in which thousands such men are living. I was upset because my cell phone got confiscated. I thought the world was crashing down over me. The absurdity of it all! I've never hated myself more, never hated being privileged, never ever wanted to make such a difference as I do at this moment!
Yet as the day wears on I know, as sure as the sun will set and rise again, that my biggest problem tomorrow, will be that my mother wouldn't give my cell back, would tell me to study. What would I think then? Not of the scores of children who are working hard just to attend one day of school, just to make a semi decent life for themselves. No! I think and wonder about what I could possibly have done to deserve that sort of treatment from my mother.
So trivial.
So useless.
In the light of reality, ones life, seems like a trivial fantasy.

Simplicity

How complex a word like simplicity sounds. In essence it may be.
Complex.
To achieve simplicity, an ounce of complexity is required, always.
In all sense though, simplicity is as simple as it sounds.
A simple smile that could make your day.
A simple look that could say a thousand words.
A simple silence, understood.
A simple call, to check on me, uncalled for, not required, but lifegiving.
A simple wag of a dogs tail, could bring back all hope when you feel like your done for. He wagged his tail, he didn't have to, he walked in and sat by my feet. He didn't have to. I don't feed him, I don't walk him. I simply love him. How he senses it, is a complex thing, translated in a simple gesture of love. A simple wag. A single nuzzle!
Simplicity at the base of all complexity, and at its demise.
A simple post, with complex words and complex feelings behind it.
Unsorted and Unabridged.

CuppyCake

"You're my honeybun sugarplum
pumpy-umpy-umkin,
your my sweetie pie.
Your my cuppycake gumdrops snoogums boogums
your the apple of my eye

and I love you so and I want you to know
that I'll always be right here.
I love to sing sweet songs to you
because you are so dear!"

-Cuppycake. by Strawberry Shortcake.

Adventures Abroad I

Currently in the queer land of queer eyed, noodle devouring people!
Singapore's the name of the game.
Arrival: 8th june 2007
Day one: Slumber and Aquaintance(in that order)
Day two: The zoo. Accompanied by a monkey of a brother, a midget of a sister, my family and other animals. Fed a few roos.
Day three: Shopping. we head off to clark quay flea market to find that it has fled. we found nothing, nada! then off to orchard street. we walked for half an hour, stood on a chinks head for half an hour. ate for 20 minutes. Came back home and swam.
sitting around discussing mother daughter-in-law situations! training for a not so distant future: How not to kill your mother in law.

okay i hate this post but im bored and writers block is descending upon me. I felt I might as well post this as I AM reporting LIVE from Singapore city!
yes I know it sucks!
dont care.
Actually, I do.
Will delete when I think of something better!
-signing off-

Word vol 2

Scat!
yes scat!
No you didn't read wrong, I did type Scat!
Its actually shit, potty!
As well as *drum roll* a form of talking.
Scat is making up of words and sounds as you go along.
It is fun
scatooobillieee baba sooonna dragastonam ablasiyadasgara.
In scat talk, I just said that your head looks like a nice big juicy watermelon!
That's the beauty of it all, YOU decide what to mumble, and YOU decide what it means.
This applies to one and all!

NOTE:While playing scatTalk please remember that we all have our right to freedom of speech and expression. no fighting because your partner did not get what you just said. Or doesn't remember.

frustration

It has been over 3 months(I think) since I last added a post! That's an annoying habit I seem to have! I insist on forgetting things. If I don't forget then I get bored of it. In this case I just didn't feel like typing. The problem is though when I'm nowhere near the vicinity of the computer, I have this INSANE desire to post something, and normally my ideas are pretty good. So I run up the stairs hollering at the top of my lungs, "GET OFF THE COMPUTER I HAVE AN AWESOME IDEA!"
Of course this NEVER works, my brothers main ambition in life is to torture me, so the minute he hears me he switches on his game and when I 'request'(by which I mean threaten him with something unless he does what I ask) him to get off, he calmly raises the volume off the speakers and the room vibrates with gunshots.
Another flash and an awesome idea occurs again, "I shall write about the sheer pointless-ness of computer games...or maybe a pros and cons..." As I am thinking all this, my darling sibling is shooting away at pelicans and foxes(types of air crafts it seems) and I, amidst these gunshots, am contemplating my new idea, the old one entirely forgotten.
My mother on the other hand must at that very moment book somebodies flight or hotel. Which ofcouse takes priority over my awesome idea which I am told to write down so I do not forget!
WHO, I ask you, writes things down in the day and age! God what a tedious task! To actually write something down that is not required by the school? God forbid! So of course I walk away grumbling!
It takes four hours, much grovelling, a dash of whining and a tad bit of blackmail to finally get the computer and by then I have about 20 new awesome ideas to write on!
I sit down and sign in, click on the post button, set the cursor on title, think. Type in: Random Thoughts.
I sit back.
And I stare.
What to write about first?
my hand is placed gently on the keyboard ready to type away.
And...
My mind is blank!
Gone are the awesome ideas. Away with the wind went my random thoughts. Vanished are my theories. Faded from memory are the memories. Lost are the quotes. Drained away is my emotion, save one.
Sheer and utter FRUSTRATION!

Grown-ups are decidedly very, very odd.

"What are you doing there?" he said to the drinker, whom he found settled silently before a collection of empty bottles and a collection of full bottles.
"I'm drinking," said the drinker, with a mournful air.
"Why are you drinking?" asked the little prince.
"To forget," replied the the drinker.
"To forget what?" enquired the little prince, who was already starting to feel sorry for him.
"To forget that I am ashamed," confessed the drinker, hanging his head.
"Ashamed of what?" persisted the little prince, who wanted to help him.
"Ashamed of drinking!" concluded the drinker, retreating into a permanent silence.

And the little prince went away, perplexed.
"Grown-ups are decidedly very, very odd," he said to himself as he continued on his voyage.

word vol I

Oodles is the coolest word EVER!
I mean come on 'oodles of fun' thats what it is this word oodles...

OODLES

A Flash Upon that Inward Eye.

Yesterday, we were sitting around watching old baby videos of yours truly, when the best description yet of my childish escapades were voiced by an extremely articulate cousin of mine who has been recently launched in to the mysterious yet wholly satisfying world of motherhood. She turned to me after watching me take halting steps to wards a very well advertised glass of yellow gunk and informed me that i looked like a "Drunken Midget." No exaggeration.

So we were sitting around, discussing my various attributes, when I (the awesome philosopher that I am) realised that this moment is never gonna come back. Time just flies by. Mind, I'm only 15, imagine how parents or even grandparents might feel. Gone are the days of my innocent childhood, gone are the times I could run around free of burdens, free of promises, of pressure, of politics and dynamics. Free from others thoughts dictating MY actions. I must be more calm now, more composed. I shudder as I imagine my life 2 years from now, A child no more, barely an adult, a teenager lost in 'the big bad world'. I dread the confusion that will descend upon me like a dark cloud, the indecision. Yet I am hopeful, for I will learn new things and to learn is but the purpose of man.

I feel that I am in awkward stage now, the time where I am shaped, moulded, battered, whacked and melted, emotionally as well as physically, into the woman I am to become some day. A woman to be proud of, one to look up to and idolize. one who makes a difference. But then again, aspirations of an immature mind. Or not. At times I am forced to believe that I can, I will and I shall. A motto we should all adopt, for ambition is a great thing and can get you far in this world of posers and weak minded noodles(or brutally murdered by your closest comrade as with Julius Caesar. But that's a risk I am willing to take.)

As these subtle yet prodding thoughts flash across my mind, I find myself reaching for the camera. This moment may never come back, but technology can assure that my memory of it may never fade.

I aim..."smile"...*click*.

Aah...I feel a sense of fulfilment and satisfaction...memory preserved.

Wise Words of Rafiki the baboon

"A Sante Sana Squash Banana"

Aren't incoherent rantings just the best?

wordsville

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Aah the wise words of Albus Dumbledore! Hats off to whomever can tell me what they mean.
then theres the most amazing school motto I have ever read:"Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus." Translation: "Never tickle a sleeping dragon." (Yes I did read Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone for the umpteenth time while taking a break today.)
I start thinking. Who came up with this awesome language? Where words are such fun to say.
Word play.
A game for the intellectual few.
Try saying the word Noodle. Its HEAVEN! I love the way it just sounds...slips or shall we say rolls of the tongue. Noodle!
Then there bubble. A funner word may exist but I know not off it.
These are the simpler ones.
Then there are the big ones you throw into conversation to sound smart. Such as "contemplate" a substitute for think. When theres a word like that why would you even THINK of saying think?
Mind you don't over do it. There are precious few in the world who will understand you when you say, "I think I might be on the verge of catching pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis." For those who don't know...it basically means you breathed in a lot of volcanic gases and are gonna catch a cough!
Aah words, how I love them. They make you laugh, cry, think, feel.
Truly a gift I'll say!

"To the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure"-Albus Dumbledore.

I take your leave to organise my mind in preparation of a death that seems so far away, yet so close!

a-bloggin we will go.

yes so what am I doing here?
I wonder to.
I should be studying right now. Considering I am giving my boards at the moment.
It seems Im a 15 year old MESS!

well I was in the mood...so a-bloggin we will go!!! a-bloggin we will go!

The point and purpose of this blog I have not yet pin-pointed. I belive it may emerge at some time in the near future. Anywho, I am out to let the world know exactly what I think and feel on most matters that do not matter to anybody and eveyrbody who matters and may think it matters but actually it doesent! Confused? Ah well..so am I. Its in my 'girly' nature to talk and advise and be advised! So look out world of pixels...I have arrived!

So if you have stumbled upon this work of art, woe-be-gone to you( I really have no idea if thats how its supposed to be used but i like the sound of it.)

HARK!!! what is that sound...it seems...to be calling my name...yes it is...! I am being drawn away from this cyber world...back to the world of reality...where I have a history board exam tomorrow!!!!!

until we meet again...