drawn inspiration from derangedpandabear's last post. Thanks, buddy.
I live a different life now. Another confession coming your way. So maybe I am in love, it's just that I'm a classic case of 'once bitten, twice shy'. I don’t know who it is, I can’t define him. A little bit of DDLJ’s Mere Khwaabon Mein Jo Aaye, now that I think of it.
Here’s something that came into my mind this moment…it’s a diary entry made what seems like eons ago, but I’d like to believe it was 13th June 2007, when I wrote it.
Love is a strange thing, you know. It makes you more aware about others even if you can’t think beyond one person. It makes you want to punish yourself for having done nothing criminal. It’s like tugging at your dreams to come true. It’s like sitting at a window watching rain, in shorts, wet hair, barefoot. The winds blowing the Gulmohar. It’s realising you have a spongy soft toy heart with love written across it. It’s this invisible hug that’s always wrapping you. It’s a green frog filled with thermocol beads. It’s two blue coloured bags. It’s a playlist of songs. It’s exchanged chappals. It’s two 50p coins. It’s one spoon of bhel. A thumbfight. It’s whispering over the phone. Sticking your tongue out. It’s homework done beforehand. It’s a clear summer night sky when you can spot the Lion and the Virgin. It’s calling up to say you can’t reply to a stupid forward. It’s being ready to wait. It’s Hotel California’s strings being plucked. It’s a mock fight. It’s running suddenly. It’s grinning for no good reason. It’s sharing a few favourite songs. It’s hoping that you’ll be happy. It’s chicken sandwiches, don’t forget those.
It’s so many more things I can’t explain.
Vacuum again.
I would rather be heartbroken than not have anyone to love at any point in my life.
I think more than I write. I listen more than I talk. I chew more than I bite. Welcome to whatever's inside my head. Well, almost.
Blank
Sometimes you want to close your eyes and see nothing.
It isn't really the blackest of your days, but your senses fail you. Nothing seems to be right, though it's all correct. The complete opposite of those days when everything seems to go wonky in the eyes of the world but you know it'll be okay. Not one of those days, today. Worked hard, that's it. People smiled at what I wrote. Okay. Laughed at my jokes. Ha ha ha. So what's new, or different?
Politically, I'm appreciated. But I really haven't found my real company where I'm hooding nowadays. Like school time when I had Vishal, he made me rack my brains till they were drenched of thought. Or Pushkar in junior college, intelligent debates. Or Collin, subconscious eyeopener with the right terms for everything.
Or Manasi, who keeps me on my toes waiting to catch up with something that'll quench my thirst for criticism.
I love my festival, but it doesn't give me the adrenalin drive. I'm in dire need of competition, or spark'll be stomped off.
I'm wrenching open the eyelids, waiting for light to fall on the retina. But That's compromise. Can't fiery inspiration come without dropping expectations?
I'm done for the day, but open for someone to shake me out of my elongated snooze.
It isn't really the blackest of your days, but your senses fail you. Nothing seems to be right, though it's all correct. The complete opposite of those days when everything seems to go wonky in the eyes of the world but you know it'll be okay. Not one of those days, today. Worked hard, that's it. People smiled at what I wrote. Okay. Laughed at my jokes. Ha ha ha. So what's new, or different?
Politically, I'm appreciated. But I really haven't found my real company where I'm hooding nowadays. Like school time when I had Vishal, he made me rack my brains till they were drenched of thought. Or Pushkar in junior college, intelligent debates. Or Collin, subconscious eyeopener with the right terms for everything.
Or Manasi, who keeps me on my toes waiting to catch up with something that'll quench my thirst for criticism.
I love my festival, but it doesn't give me the adrenalin drive. I'm in dire need of competition, or spark'll be stomped off.
I'm wrenching open the eyelids, waiting for light to fall on the retina. But That's compromise. Can't fiery inspiration come without dropping expectations?
I'm done for the day, but open for someone to shake me out of my elongated snooze.
Drugs and all..
MTV wassup caught me the day before yesterday, and tadaa! I was on TV yesterday!
it's about the drug racket actually...240 kids in a club held for drug detection. Kudos beta-log! Thou hast made a generation of kids who sincerely need to party victim of unnecessary suspicion from parents and all elders alike.
I wouldn't know if drugs were inches of me, you know. This humdrum happened in Juhu, very much the place my darling college is, and I think had it not been exam season a lot of people from my college would've been in the lot. Where on earth do these guys get to lay their hands on that load? How do they even consider snuffing anyway?
Takes us to the point of stereotyping- Rich kids, more drugs/smoking/whatever. Am I all that wrong when I say that the rich babbus are max in the oppsy list? Like, how many middle-class people do you find hanging out in clubs in the first place, let alone be caught with drugs? No offense intended (what the heck, this is MY blog!), but isn't not being able to afford a lot of things a blessing in disguise? I mean, when you can't afford it, you don't plunge in the first place. So the 'vicious' circle doesn't start.
This dude (really sorry, but what's your name again?) from MTV asked me if police raids are the way out of drug abuse. Urrgh, no. It's like, it's a good way, though very severe, to detect where all such activities are happening, then upto family, friends, pets, dhobis, kaamwali baai's to call for rehab. Police = diagnosis, rehab = solution. And awareness of course, though I think a lotta kids are getting their heads sorted. People know what's right and what's not. It's will, if you ask me.
I still don't know if any of my friends smoke up and all, but here's something:
I have a friend who comes from a reserved family in Borivali, he is very strong about his religious ideas, cried around for every mark in the paper, studies hard- but was the first to get absolutely, and I mean absolutely stoned at the Freshers' Party. Enough to go home and call his Grandmum 'sexy'.
And there's another, who carries an iPhone in his pocket, drives around in the city, has piercings, comes from the richest of schools, has super-liberal parents, eats non-veg despite of being a Brahmin, but doesn't see the point in doping. We're often asked why we don't smoke/booze. He says, "I don't think I'm missing out on anything. There're other ways of getting high, like try laughing till your sides ache".
Who is the stronger one?
What are principles?
Are we judging too shallow?
Till then, happy Dassehra. May all evil scramble out of your life like me when I see Prof. Srivastava entering the college.
it's about the drug racket actually...240 kids in a club held for drug detection. Kudos beta-log! Thou hast made a generation of kids who sincerely need to party victim of unnecessary suspicion from parents and all elders alike.
I wouldn't know if drugs were inches of me, you know. This humdrum happened in Juhu, very much the place my darling college is, and I think had it not been exam season a lot of people from my college would've been in the lot. Where on earth do these guys get to lay their hands on that load? How do they even consider snuffing anyway?
Takes us to the point of stereotyping- Rich kids, more drugs/smoking/whatever. Am I all that wrong when I say that the rich babbus are max in the oppsy list? Like, how many middle-class people do you find hanging out in clubs in the first place, let alone be caught with drugs? No offense intended (what the heck, this is MY blog!), but isn't not being able to afford a lot of things a blessing in disguise? I mean, when you can't afford it, you don't plunge in the first place. So the 'vicious' circle doesn't start.
This dude (really sorry, but what's your name again?) from MTV asked me if police raids are the way out of drug abuse. Urrgh, no. It's like, it's a good way, though very severe, to detect where all such activities are happening, then upto family, friends, pets, dhobis, kaamwali baai's to call for rehab. Police = diagnosis, rehab = solution. And awareness of course, though I think a lotta kids are getting their heads sorted. People know what's right and what's not. It's will, if you ask me.
I still don't know if any of my friends smoke up and all, but here's something:
I have a friend who comes from a reserved family in Borivali, he is very strong about his religious ideas, cried around for every mark in the paper, studies hard- but was the first to get absolutely, and I mean absolutely stoned at the Freshers' Party. Enough to go home and call his Grandmum 'sexy'.
And there's another, who carries an iPhone in his pocket, drives around in the city, has piercings, comes from the richest of schools, has super-liberal parents, eats non-veg despite of being a Brahmin, but doesn't see the point in doping. We're often asked why we don't smoke/booze. He says, "I don't think I'm missing out on anything. There're other ways of getting high, like try laughing till your sides ache".
Who is the stronger one?
What are principles?
Are we judging too shallow?
Till then, happy Dassehra. May all evil scramble out of your life like me when I see Prof. Srivastava entering the college.
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