With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept

What is it about death that makes it so hard to accept. I'll tell you. It's the fear of being alone and waiting. Waiting in line, it could be you. Or someone you love. Or maybe you lost someone to this thing...death..whatever..It's like that person just died and probably went to heaven and escaped or something. And left us behind crying and wondering what we'd do without that person around..It's messed up really...this fear of great loss and rejection. I'm shit scared....you know..

I'm afraid to let people in, I'm being honest. It's because I dont want them to leave..I dont want people to leave and never come back and just leave me alone..It's true people come back sometimes...but what are the odds? Is there a guarantee? What's the assurance?

Being a loner isn't easy..But being popular and all that...it's much worse. Because you know how it works..the more people you know...the more people you're not going to know after a while..and that'll hurt so bad your heart will bleed...it's this weird twisted logic I know but then...what isn't?

I know it's selfish of me to have these massive walls and be up there and look at all of you through this glass house. But then I'm afraid. Just like all of you..I'm afraid of having my heart broken. I'm afraid of having to lose someone I care about. I'm afraid of feeling rejection and loneliness...just like the rest of you...

'You'll get over it...' It's this cliché that cause the trouble. To lose someone you love is to alter your life for ever. You don't get over it because 'it' is the person you loved. The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never closes. How could it? The importance of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not erased by anyone but death. This hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no one else can fit. Why would I want them to? Why would I want to substitute this horrible feeling with something else only to feel horrible again?

What's it about death that drives everybody up the wall? Is it the irreversibility of it's condition...is it the grief that surrounds the death or is it the fear of the uncertain...the fear you feel on behalf of the deceased? I say, it's the constant guilt of not being the one...or being fortunate...ironical yeah how being fortunate or just being more faithful and religious and happy and whatever else it is becomes the cause of your guilt.. everyone hurts when they lose a loved one...they hurt so bad they wish they just died too...and this is a feeling that they carry with them forever.

I know this is probably making some cringe while some others are wondering why Mel turned emo on everyone..Truth is, I'm hurting now..I'm hurting because I've finally let myself be open to you so you can see that I'm not really the happiest duck in the pond..I'm not all about flowers and cookies..I feel scared too you know..I get hurt and I cry. Hell, I cry a lot...but I just want you to know that it's okay to cry...it's okay to hurt...and it's definitely okay to feel lonely and feel like shit about it...because that only means that you were once un-lonely. And trust me you're a lucky bitch if you are..

Tennessee Williams once wrote; When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone. If I let people in, it's because I want them to see what I'm going through. My life hasn't been peachy..There's tonnes of people I've hurt and I'm not happy about it. I'm just this fucked up girl trying to get someone to hold on to...I'm just as lonely at night as all of you are...when the lights go out..it's all dark. And in the darkness...you find someone..Is that you?

Passing images

You know they say what we see around us is just like a series of images. Good images, bad images, some pretty ugly images too. But then there are some instances that just stun you. These instances are the ones that make you wanna stop everything in time...At that point you realise that it isn't just a passing image, but a moment in time that you wish lasted forever. This moment...it's called life :)

It's in you.

I wanted to tell you to have faith in me. In us. I wanted you to know that I trust you with my life. I hope you trust me with yours. I want us to know that we may not be the textbook couple and we may not follow all the rules. Maybe there won't be any rules. But that's the thing, right? That's what made us US in the first place. How nothing was normal, nothing was usual and nothing was predictable.

I pray that we understand the depth of this, that we are able to live up to it and carry on loving like we always wanted. I hope we're able to make something out of this, something that we can believe in. Something that will probably be and understood only between us. It's what I've always wanted...:)


You know, I've been writing all this down in that little book of mine. I just thought it was time to probably bring it out on my blog. I wanted to share this. And my heart. I gave it to you, that very first time. I feel so content, just as you said.

When I fell to the floor tonight, I was so scared, I'm still terrified. Then I saw you, and I promised myself that if I could just get up, I'd walk over to you... I'd tell you how much I need you and how much I want you... and how nothing else matters.


I love you very much, pie :)

I wanna hold on to you for as long as I can breathe...

Your words...up there :)

He tells me he wants to be with me for as long as I want to. Truth is, I want to be with him forever. But in his arms, even forever doesn't seem enough.
He claims to love me more than I can imagine. Clearly, he doesn't know I have the imagination of an painter/writer with the pure heart of a 6 year old. I just wish he'd stop thinking he's not good enough for me.Because if he isn't, then I don't know what is...

He's the best. This man. The best for me. The very best for us :)

One without a bail out.

I will be gone one year, two years, four years, maybe even ten. But I know I'll come back to you. I know I will. And there will in fact, be one day when you will hear my voice every day and every night. I'll watch you eat. You'll watch me sleep. We'll do big things together. We'll paint walls together. And we'll argue on stupid things and we'll make up for it in a few minutes. And that day and every day after that...will ve magical.
But one without a bail out...
:)

I gave you my heart. And I know it's safe.











"I'll make you go craaazzyyyy mella"- Pie <3

selah dor.

They say, it takes a moment to decide what you want to make of your life. It is that moment...that takes your breath away...it sweeps you off your feet...it sends tingles down your spine...it renders you speechless...it makes you want to run into the arms of someone who means the world to you.

A lot many let these moments pass. We got lucky. Someday, when I look back and see how beautiful we are together...I will think about this very moment that did it for us :)






Muffin<3Pie//A&F.

goldie the goldfish.

It's a funny feeling. And I may sound completely retarded. But I know how it feels, and it feels friggin awesome!

It puts life in front of rose tinted unbreakable super strong unbendable glasses, this feeling. It makes you want to live in it and never get the fuck out. It wants you to wake up every morning and just be. Just be...

It makes you want to cook and clean and sleep and do all things that seem so ordinary, only it makes the ordinary special...this feeling.

It's like fairy dust. Like pot pourri. Like scented candles. Like marshmellows dipped in chocolate. Like hot food. Like warm hugs. Like night showers. Like a comfortable bed. Like anything you like. Anything!

It's so nice. And it's so special. It's like someone drilled a hole through your head and walked right in. Like he read everything, pulled out folders and files, and just read everything. And then, when it couldnt get any weirder...just became that one person. That one person who, so effortlessly, turned your world upside down. Not many people know this feeling. Those who do are lucky, those who dont...dont give up on it yet :) Its beautiful. Like..the mountains.

Like the sea. Like the sand and the snow and everything in between. Like a little girl with her doll house, like a little boy with his toys. Like an old man with an old woman and the love they share in their broken voice. Like a cloud to a labourer, like milk to cereal and fodder to cattle and umm..music to lyrics. And perfect boy to perfect girl. It's magical...

It's magical and unlike any magic you've known, it's bleeding real. REAL and beautiful. Beautiful and everlasting. It's irrevocable, and it's a crazy journey. It's a journey on a pretty road with turns and broken streetlamps. But a journey, nonetheless. It's like the smell of earth after the rains. It's something you never want to get rid of. It's a lasting memory, this. It's now. And tomorrow. And day after. And every day after that. It's just...It's almost trippy. Happy highs and not many lows..its how it should be and it's how it is. It just is...



How like this he is ??


selah dor.. <3

Niki's wild SouthIndianHell Experience xD

So we have Niki. Smart, pretty, wild and absolutely crazy.
And then, we have Chennai. No offence to the place, but somehow our little birdie just doesn't fit there!

For example: Niki likes dressing up. And dressing up good at that. No si...
Niki-
people are just SO excited abt silk
i mean
if silk worms
EVER go into extinction
blame the tamilians!!!


So she's waiting to come to Dubai for the food as well. Yeah, the..
Niki-
freak. I see another idli
and i will break thru a tree

As I mentioned earlier, she's a pretty good looker. And in Chennai, that's what'll get you places. How, you ask?
Niki-
its a good thing when you look classy around here
like
they think you are some filmstar and treat you with utmost respect.
and its SO cool to treat someone like trash ..

Don't get her wrong. She really is a sweetheart. Just caught in the wrong place.
Blame the heat..
Me-
is it hot there?
Niki-
it eez
and its OOGLY
save me?

So while I look for my cape, Niki continues to bicker about how caught up she feels there. Getting back to attire issues 101...
Niki-
Just here
and then
back
to
dubai
where
i can wear
whatever the FUCK i want
skinnys
and a top
is considered..
HOOO_HAAAA_HHOOOOOO_HAAAA

Poor Niki. I feel for you <3
xx

Omer grows up!

web monkey. succexy says:
I need love haha
illicince. think positive, cuz in life, god takes, god gives says:
you got me babe
web monkey. succexy says:
the mushy, nauseating, suffocating kinda love
illicince. think positive, cuz in life, god takes, god gives says:
*ahem*
illicince. think positive, cuz in life, god takes, god gives says:
you mean sex?
web monkey. succexy says:
NO *facepalm*

NYEWWW!

New flip flops <3
Make me happy.

Strange, eh?



ZOMGSOFUCKINGHAPPYITHINKIJUSTCRIED!

Hickory Dickory Dock

This ryhme's worth my old sock! The mouse ran up and now forgot, what it's like to die of shock.

Unlike my other posts, where I'm either constantly bitching or snitching, whining or just plain shining (lol wut?!?!?!), this post unfortunately has no purpose. I mean, if it was a living being I'd totally hate this post for the mere fact that it's so damn imbecile! It's useless and full of shit. It's so much like someone I know, it makes me wonder if really, posts and people could be twins, or what?

You see, posts like these are usually results of boredom, nothing-to-to-ness, and more boredom. What I fail to understand though, is the reason that's compelling me to write! To get this straight, I'm a) Not bored b) Definitely NOT jobless and c) Not a fan of useless posts. Actually, scratch that c. I am beginning to like the idea already!!

Now last night, I was aimlessly flooding random facebook profiles with my full-of-shite comments. Royal rapage, if I may. Oh and yeah (not relevant, don't get too excited YET folks!), I found this mysterious looking green gel in my drawer yesterday and for some reason it just doesn't look right to me. It's the kinda green that appears when something WASN'T originally green, you get what I mean? The kinda moldy, pasty, dull green. Ugh. FML

So I was watching St. Trinian's (dontask) and those ladies got some issues man! Like, one second they're hanging little girls off a flight of stairs, the next moment they're screwing royalty, and before you thought it couldn't get any worse, they're winning the bloody damn school challenge with the brains of an amoeba!!!!! Seriously, just WHERE did good ol' film making go?

I've been listening to Rihanna. Rihanna who? The same black haired blonde who got beaten up by a kid and then collapsed and then, wait for it, got BACK with him! Yes, I sold out. I've been listening to her croon. Not so bad, say I. But still, Reha(b)na!!

There's these odd looking kids staring at me like I killed the preseident, as I type this post. For why (omg so abhi!!), I wonder. Maybe it's because I get this weird fish face when I'm typing. Come on, admit it! Atleast 3 out of the 10 people who'll read this get that strange fish face or whatever you'd like to call it face while typing. It's a human thing. Can't touch this.

I'm through to the eighth paragraph and I'm still not making complete sense. All this when I haven't been under the "influence" of any drug or hmmm what's that..substance. Or alcohol. Or anything. No...nothing. I'm just writing. Typing? Yeah, that. It's like I'm mapping this portion of my head that ocassionally spills out some garb and all I gotta do is type till my fingers stage a protest. Maybe someday, like in another 100 years or so, man (or whoever it is that will roam on the surface of the earth)will be able to rightly decipher what it is that causes people to act like they're not thinking at all when actually they're thinking harder than they should be thinking, thinking people won't think that they're actually thinking thinking that the people who don't think actually think more than you think. OH HELL YEAH!!!!!



I are genie-ass.

What Clem and I have in common.

So there's Clementine, this mood swing-y, hair color changing, random and impulsive female lead from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (ESSM). And then there's Melissa; spontaneous, stupid, careless, silly and talkative. But this is where the differences end and the similarities begin.

I've watched ESSM too many times to tell people around me "OMG she's so ME!!". I have way too many proofs and just..wayyy too many things in common man! Funny thing though, is that when it comes to ACTUALLY pinning them down, I'm at a loss for words.

I'll tell you a few things though. Note that this paragraph comes almost an hour after the preceeding one. Blogs can't tell how much time one spends on them, so my humble fingers do the job. So Clementine erases her memory. Why? Because she thinks he's boring (cue in "aww" for Joel). I can't possibly erase my memory, Lacuna'll cost me a bomb. So what do I do? I deliberately erase him outta my head. It's not as easy as it sounds, and for the time keepers; it took me almost 2 months to do the needful. It's the un-doable. It's tough and it's a bitch of a job. But then, she did it. I was jealous of her. I wanted to be her. I wanted to change memories like she changed hair color. I want to be able to look him in the eye and pretend I never knew him. I'm so effing jealous of her. I want to be Clementine.

Clementine and I suffered from a Mariana trench level of inferiority complex. What I mean is, well we didn't think too high of ourselves as little girls. Remember the "be pretty" doll? Mmm and the impression we both leave on men in general. Same to same. Ditto. Why must she exist in just a movie? I want her to be real. I want her to be my best friend. My twin. Scratch that, I want her to be me. I Want me to be her.

So then there's the obvious bunch of neo-lovers. They want to tell me to keep the memories. Memories are good, they say. Any memory is a good memory. Oh well, WTF right? A bad memory is a bad memory just as a bad apple is a bad apple. Nothing can reverse that. If I'm going to have to live with it, screw it I'd rather just go brain dead.


Oh, and I love oranges. Tangerines. Mmm..get?



To quote her,

"Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours".

I'm single. And it's pretty here.

If this is how you're going to end it. I'm fine with it

It's the worst ending to any relationship.

But whatever, it must be done.

I'm so not worthy of your time and intellect. I'm sorry if I've wasted time trying to reconcile and I'm sorry that I was blonde and failed to see that you really wernt interested at all.

and I'm venting now, because WTF..we wont be talking much anyway.

Let me tell you once and for all, I loved you I love you and I'm going to love you but I cant be your kinda girl. Ever.

I cant be blonde and stupid and girly and all those things. I'm fcked up. I'm harsh. I'm cold and seriously, I dont even care.

I hate that blonde bitch and I hope she dies and I seriously dont give a damn . I just hope you never make the mistake of falling for her. You think im a jerk? That's fine with me, we're not talking so I dont see why I should be bothered.

and you can hate me all you want, but I only pray that you're able to be the man you've always wanted to be.

and I hope you find yourself a nice woman who deserves your time and attention..whatever little you can give.

and meh, I'm so done with this. I already forgot how I used to feel about you.

I've hurt you too much, I have no right to.

I feel horrible, I'm hurting myself.

I'm fucked up. And I love you. I hate it, but I love you. It's fucked up. End.


"Blessed are the forgetful,
for they get the better even of their blunders."

Again!

If we had babies they would look like you
It’d be so beautiful if that came true
You don’t even know how very special you are

And if our love was a story book
We would meet on the very first page
The last chapter would be about
How I’m thankful for the life we’ve made

How silly are we to have fallen like this? I'm singing in the shower and you're fumbling with words. This is the start of something big, I assure you:) People will laugh and mouths will bicker. Eyebrows will be raised and heads will turn. Still, sugar...I'll keep loving you like I've done. Through good days and bad, through days I wanted you dead till days I'll die for you; I'll always love you.

Thanks for being around, darling.











P.S: Aku, Meenal, Mali and Uzma...refrain from teasing me, please? Love y'all :)

So I wrote this in Mumbai...

Since the last time I visited Mumbai, nothing much has changed. Strangely though, nothing quite looks the same to me. There are good things and there are bad things. Things that I remember Mumbai with, things that remind me of this place. It is one and the same thing, but then it's not. My first day has been more of a journey than anything else. From scraping the worm-bodied passages that now adorn the airport to passing by swarms of cleaners and airport security. Faces in India have a permanent smile on their faces, a smile that is synonomous to the warm, welcoming attitude that most Indians are born with. Correction, ALL Indians. Yet, there is a faint, somewhat depressing look in their eyes that stare right back at you and pierce you with so much pain which you would've never imagined.

The first thing that hits you as soon as you step out of the submarine-like aeroterminal is a warm, balmy gust of wind that first seems to surround you from all sides and if you happen to wait long enough, it almost feels like it is growing on you like a slimy layer of non-removable cling wrap. this, accompanied by the painful, yet enterprising screeches of cabbies and hotel bookers and packs of tourist guides; makes the welcome into India rather memorable.

Driving back home in a chauffeur driven 4X4 is not a privilege that many enjoy. It is something that I don't appreciate as much since I come from a rather affluent family, but at the same time there's this feeling of superiority that is both holy and horrible. Horrible is not the rigt word but strangely, it fits. I just don;t know which bit of it is holy and which is horrible. driving through the crammed alleys and the crowded roads, I see every possible mode of transport making its way to the end like some eternal race for survival. Men, women, children and cars; on the road they all look the same. the stooped folk, with drab clothes lying around the corners and under partly constructed sites are what give the mise-en-scene of Mumbai the flair that it claims. As we turn to the lane that leads towards my house, I see familiar faces, indifferent and oblivious to the arrival of someone that they raised, someone they played with, someone they loved or hated, in short; someone they once knew. The faces have not changed a bit, yet there is something about them that brings them about as such strangers, possibly from another planet. this shield that every person here builds around them is what keeps them going, it is something that gives them a reason to occassionally socialise. For, ignorance is bliss; but denial is trouble.

The next few hours at home are spent in unpacking, absorbing the house in, its still atmosphere, a lot like an incubator. The sights and smells are familiar, and it's what I call home. But home, is it really my comfort zone? an hour into this and Im still trying to figure out if it was a good decision or bad. I miss my people back home, some more than the others. I cringe at the thought of not being able to see someone for a whole month, conjuring a plethora of thoughts in my mind.

I walk down to a friend's place, finding solace in the few friends that I've managed to contact. It's funny how wanting to have to meet or talk to someone becomes so important that your life almost depends on it. Yes, I've heard the "man is a social animal" saying many times to ever have forgotten it. However, I think I find it unavoidable because the only cure to loneliness for me is love and at the same time, the reason why I am lonely is also love. Thus, mingling with other folk temporarily fill that void and make it easier for me to try and focus on things that I originally intended to do. My time with them friends is good and it is then time to return home. Yes, back to the still air and gaping at the immaculate relationship between the grandparent and the television set. Sometimes I wonder who is helping what. Is it the grandmother who's watching TV and increasing TRPs or is the TV that's playing on a loop on and on to keep her mind occupied.

It's strange I've come to a house where people wind up at the dot of 10. The insomniac that I am, is finding it very difficult to close my eyes even though the body is sore from all the traveling and internal stress. I read for a while, make small talk with the cousin, indulge in some housework and finally see everyone off to bed. Luckily, I have a balcony just where I'm supposed to be sleeping. That balcony to me is much more than just an opening to the external environment. What lies outside is the back alley of my street, trees lined up on either side, a church bell and some more trees. But what I see is far more complex and interesting. I see the dimly lit alleys, but only, they look like streams of liquid gold. I see trees, but somehow they resemble fairies, wizards and all things mysitcal. I see shapes that only exist in my mind, things that havent been named yet but things that have a clear definition in my head. I see the church bell and at once, I think of several thousand bats flying out from it in generous sweeps and coming righ towards me. These are strange thoughts, strange ideas and stranger comparisons. But for me, somehow all of it seems so vivid it's almost impossible to decide which is real.

This page of black and white has turned to a morgueish shade of grey, a sign that my eyes have finally married my body and that they both now are crying for some rest. Crying here is the wrong word here, because I never cry for what I want but for the things that I've lost. Im not sure I want them back but I still cry. I cry till I convince myself it's never coming back. Instead of crying over things I want, I channel that energy to doing things to pursue that desire. If this is sounding like greek, then it really is time for me to hit the sack.

I'm turning in now. Yes, with my rivers of gold and bats, alright =D

This did it.

I've been neglecting the blogosphere for some time now, lazy much?
Today, something happened that literally forced me to get my hands off facebook and on to blogspot < update time! >
One of the craziest fogs that the UAE has ever seen, and one of the deadliest pile-ups in the history of UAE's polished and BMW/Merc smothered roads. The fog's to blame, but not completely. It is, after all, a natural phenomenon! You don't blame good ol' poop when you miss an episode of The Family Guy! [whoever does, has serious issues with nature and its workings].
Coming back to the deeper poop, so this fog caused its share of havoc on the roads. But what really got to me was the fact that these smog-struck people were rallying at 150kmph despite the forelying massacre! Car after car, bus after bus, all piled up like a stack of pringles, only crushed to its sorry last bit. And Hazard lights...Did they not teach you in driving school,those blinkers remain shut during a fog! You're not helping anyone by putting it on. In fact, you're scaring them! [Remeber, they're relying on YOU to tell them what the scene's like up ahead, you can't see jack in a fog like THAT!]
Vehicles ablaze, ambulance-marathon in progress, the scene is anything but pleasing. It's a sign, folks... DO not take em roads for granted. Anything can happen. Least you could do is slow down and mind your own goddamn business!

I spent 7 hours in the bus today, and that's not cool, thankyou.

http://www.gulfnews.com/nation/Traffic_and_Transport/10196597.html

Of toes and everything.

Today was Valentine'e day *fakes squeal* .

Started off pretty lame...crippled to be precise. Red all around,flowers that rot, teddy bears, and well, more roses. Girls at their shiniest best, guys at their coolest, "love" as they say was all around.

Now, now. I'm not saying I'm anti Valentine's Day. I'd like to spend some time with my companion too. But then, any damn day will do, no? Moving on.

So the compantion still comes, we do the usual dinner, walk, gift-giving business...We depart with a sweet ending...They say, all's well that ends well :)

Happy love day you all.













P.S: GROW UP!

Another one, and no I'm NOT love-struck!

I was randomly blog-hopping a day before my Econ paper, and I happened to notice this one post on what love means. So this guy put it across really well, left me more than impressed, if I may add.
Now, my fingers can't really resist the urge to leave a comment everytime I read something that's..erm..worth reading! So i put on my typing gear (in this case, an invisible cape and a thinking hat without batteries) and started to write my line-or-two on what I think love is.
But wait! Im in love too, atleast that's what my previous posts say, so a line-or-two won't suffice. I went on to write a decent essayish quantity and in the end thought to myself(without the aid of the hat, mind you) Why not put it up here !

So here, read on...

Love is what youe experience when you read all of this and more, and immediately close your eyes to think of the only person you wouldn't mind snoring in front of, the only person who's seen you through every small happening, the only person who's scent you can detect from a mile but never seem to find it anywhere else.

Love is this weird feeling in your toes,the tingling sensation and how everything in the world seems distant once they're in the bubblegummish mouth of your partner (if you curl them while you read this, you're in love mate)

Love is laughing at the same silly jokes, then looking at each other and saying I love You. Love is when you listen to songs on the radio and picture yourself in it, listen carefully and then conclude that it isn't your song, that your song would have sounds and instances exclusive to your relationship.

Love is what happens to you when you're having exams, and all you think about is passing them with a good GPA, and then waiting to tell your companion how well you did and how much you love him (contrary to the common misconception that people often confuse with love, when you can't study at all, and all that's on your mind is the man/woman you so totally are in "love" with, trust me, your companion in actuality would neevr let you do this to yourself!)

Ah well, love is not a disease, just in case you related it to a sickness of some sort. Love is ideally, a state of mind, a conscious effort to keep alive a feeling that in turn, keeps you alive :)

And now, for the original post that got me into this love-debate...(credits to Hari, http://whencupidstrikes.blogspot.com/ )
When do you know you are in love? It is not when you begin to lose sleep. It is when you begin to sleep with more peace. It is not when you begin to see her face in every other face you see, that would make her so un-special (wonder who ever thought of that weird expression, a friend thought of his muse in his professor’s face!) It is when her face is only a perfumed mist around you, keeping you in a trance for long, never-ending periods.

May be I contradict myself. It is not really when you are in a trance and feel lost, that you know you are in love. It is when you are the most clear-headed and focused that you know you are in love. It is when all her features become the centre of your attention.

The way her red lips part when she needs to smile, the way they pout when she is sorry, the way the blood drains out of it when her teeth bite gently into the suppleness.

The tiny cherry at the tip of her nose. The loving gaze, the swiftness of her eyes to catch every minute detail. The rise of her cheeks at every smile, the bed of skin at her chin. The delicate turn of her ear, the wisps of hair making the sideburns. The small of her neck that shakes as she talks, the bones by them that rise as she breathes. Her neck that loves being pampered by a tongue. The shiny hair that fall on her nape, tickling her back. The gentle rise and fall of her soft but firm breasts, the peace inside the cleavage and the confidence of her perky nipples.

The tremors of the stomach, the tremble by the sides, the naughtiness of her belly-button and the trail of soft fur. The goosebumps that announce arousal.

The divine aroma, wrapped in soft spools. The tough door and the smooth walls. The warmth inside. The delicious wetness. The heavenly taste.

The kissable thighs. The strong knees, intricate toes and baby toe-nails. The adorable calves, the tender pit of the knees, the rise of her cheeks, the rosebud between them. The small of her back. The curling vertebrae. The arch of her shoulders, the tone of her biceps, the affectionate curl at the elbow, the grace of the forearm and the immaculate fingers, the moon-less nails.

The buoyancy of her gait. Her mild chiding. Her gentle breath. Her thoughtfulness. Her honest emotions. The sheer smartness. Her kind words, her true concern. All of her.

It is when you understand that every feature of her is a work of art, an intricate design in itself; that you know that you are not only in awe of her physical beauty, but are also in love with her individual existence.

Newbie =]

So someone's started blogging too...Yay!


I heart you silly boy ^^


kisses and more :)

Dammit.

He's stubborn.





>.<


[i still love you]

Joy :)

Okay so this is not one of those whiny sarcastic negative posts..I've realised that people often use blogs to bitch about things..with the exception of Meenal of course, whos blog is always a pleasure to read. [we have a baby now..he's called Chingoo and he's adorable :D]
So coming back to what i really want to say..Im in love! oh yeah...truly. Finally. Totally. Madly :D This must sound weird to many who know me personally, but guys..im not kidding! Aakanksha is proof :)
Im done with Magazine and Radio...got a decent break from college...shopped like a maniac..been doing things like its the end of the world..life's pretty much on a roll these days!
Bouncing back to romance..hehe funny, i enjoy the ping-pong writing technique...some insane kick! Yeah, so the guy's awesome..he's funny! he loves Mountain Dew and Red Bull...lovvvess the Sopranos...he thinks he's part of it..he's "weirdly spontaneous", makes me laugh all the time..is a good kisser..loves babies...is wild...[read horny]...is responsible...thinks im special..has awesome hair..the best hair actually!!...loves Delhi...more than me sometimes :P...he's a crazy fan of Mafia movies...is a sucker for Carrie Underwood and Indian Classical Music..is partly stoned by birth...sings very cutely...dances like no one's watching...gives superb lap dances :P...loves Matafee from KFC...sends me the cutest offlines...comes all the way to Abu Dhabi..and then goes back :(...has friends from almost every part of the earth...is learning Italian...is super cute...has tiny little eyes...that twinkle when i say "i love you" :D....
But what i like about him the most is...He's truly insanely completely in love with me...ask me how i know??

I can tell =D

Story of my Life

The following post has been written by a certain Ms.Annie. I can completely empathize with her. Seriously, no one could have put it in better words. our identities are at stake here. Please go ahead and read it if you ever had any doubt/concern/shock/disgust over my identity and stance.

Kudos!

http://www.anniezaidi.com/2007/10/brief-contextual-history-of-blogger-in.html

Telepathy.

A friend and I always spoke about how we were affected by telepathy and how it played it's dirty little tricks on us.From colour co-ordinated clothes to picking the same advertising agency for an assignment, its occurences are endless.

Telepathy happens with those who you're close to right? Funny then, how this one song i heard a while back by the Plain White T's [they're not emo fags!] sang out to me what i was thinking inside my head. His voice almost came through me and back into my ears as i heard the song on Repeat.

Songs can speak volumes, or so they say. I always said this to sound musically-inclined, and try and start a conversation or two with random people in malls or public buses. Never thought a song could reinforce this idea and take it to a totally different level, on where these songs actually flow in your veins, grow on your head, or whatever that is still part of our oddly disfunctional selves.

Some sort of weird telepathy,[a freak co-incidence] I'd convince myself that this song was written for me/through me/by me, even. So here...

"A Lonely September"

I'm sittin' here all by myself
just tryin' to think of something to do
Tryin' to think of something, anything
just to keep me from thinking of you
But you know it's not working out
'cause you're all that's on my mind
One thought of you is all it takes
to leave the rest of the world behind

Well I didn't mean for this to go as far as it did
And I didn't mean to get so close and share what we did
And I didn't mean to fall in love, but I did
And you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you did

I'm sittin' here tryin' to convince myself
that you're not the one for me
But the more I think, the less I believe it
and the more I want you here with me
You know the holidays are coming up
I don't want to spend them alone
Memories of Christmas time with you
will just kill me if I'm on my own

I know it's not the smartest thing to do
we just can't seem to get it right
But what I wouldn't give to have one more chance tonight
One more chance tonight

I'm sittin' here tryin' to entertain myself with this old guitar
But with all my inspiration gone it's not getting me very far
I look around my room and everything I see reminds me of you
Oh please, baby won't you take my hand
we've got nothing left to prove

And I didn't mean to meet you then
we were just kids
And I didn't mean to give you chills
the way that I kiss
And I didn't mean to fall in love, but I did
And you didn't mean to love me back but I know you did
Don't say you didn't love me back 'cause you know you did
No, you didn't mean to love me back
But you did


*sigh*

Confucius Says..

Man who drop watch in toilet...


Bound to have shitty time ^^




*dies*

Another crapper...

The Eid break's going good for me..till now atleast. I've been shopping till i drop (literally...i tripped over an out-of-place-brick :$)
Driving to the mall and back gives me a diferent kind of high altogether. No more do i have to be on the mercy of others, wait for Mom to get back from work, or for Dad to get into the "right mood". I can drive...WHENEVER i wanna! *bounces up and down*

SO yeah...I'm satisfied, I've shopped, and now i'm gonna go have dinner. Does life get any more perfect than this? It's like i'm living in a castle made of glass..i can see everyting around me, but no one dare come any closer!

Well, back to assignments now :S *shattering glass noise*

badluckability

So eid's here..i have nothing to wear..nowhere to go..nothing to do..does that sound normal?
or is it just me..finding ways and means to withdraw myself from this shit hole that people like calling WORLD...
why am i never happy with the system of things?! like i wish i was someplace else...doing somethng different..meeting new people..making "good use" of my life (Quote Dr.Feroze :P)
how about wishing i didn't exist for sometime...just make a quiet exit..watch the people i know and supposedly care about fading away in the distance...NO i'm not talking of death here..that isn't my department..i'm talking of playing "disappear" for a while...see what my world looks like without me in it...you know..watch as a "third party".
That'd be interesting...really...

*pinches myself*
wake up already

Far away...

You've left me alone
You've gone too far
It isn't the distance
Life just lowered it's bar

Silly conversations we had
that bore no results
your sweet nonsensical rantings
and your try at insults

I miss those talks
about climate and food
when you'd compare your city
to my humble hood

Your child-like voice still lingers
at the back of my longing mind
sometimes i sit up all night
memories are all that i find

Sweet nothings scribbled on post-its
your perfume always made my day
it kills now, to think about
how far you've gone away...

Chatting up a cabbie...

Yeah I'm still going around in cabs, the license hasn't taken all my modesty away. Well,I hopped into one today, and an old Santa-only-thinner-looking cabbie happened to look at me through the rear-view mirror. Not the sort to entertain such glances, i looked away, pretending nothing happened.
There was something very fatherly...rather Grandfatherly about him though, i then realised. So i gave him my standard you-can-talk-to-me-now look and managed a half-smile.
He guessed by my attire that i was Pakistani (yeah a Salwar I sported..as per my Instructor's instructions, a sure way to lure the examiners and pass the test, he believes). This green-signalled our 15minute long conversation which got me nose-diving into the inner workings of a mere Pathan.
I didn't hesitate when he asked me if I had a brother, realising it was only a healthy discussion, and convincing myself that no Musalman would act funny during Ramzan.
His face then turned from I'm-sick-of-driving to You-don't-have-a-brother?! in less than a minute. Said Pathans don't stop at just daughters, they NEED a son. That startled me! NEED a son? For what? So he leaves home when he's 21 and forgets about his folks once he gets a wife? Son's are no different from daughters for crying out loud!
We then moved on to a rather hot debate on why the discrimination still exists in many narrow minds. Old folks prefer sons so they can carry their name forward. I think that's just bullshytte! What for carying names forward, when they're not gonna look after you when you're alive! Now, i'm not discriminating against sons, they're not bad at all. But what bothers me, is the problem they have with daughters.
We're not dying to get married and leave the house y'know. This society's so hypocritical! They send us away..and then blame us for going away! What the fuck?!
Children, whatever sex, are all equal, someone tell him that! He had a point though, the village he lived in is very critical and look down at you if you don't have a son. So 'try till you succeed' it is!
Thank heavens for the small-ness of Abu Dhabi, I was at my destination before this got out of hand!
Ah well, i shall stop ranting about sons and daughters here. My peeps love me, and that's all I care about!
Not wanting to sound mean or ignorant...i'm going to leave this debate to you guys. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts!
If you got nothing to say...try amusing yourself with the red and white Xmark at the top of this page to the right :P

Vr00m !

Would you choose water over wine,hold the wheel and drive?

Everyone knows this song..most love it too. Drive by Incubus =D

Well i just got my driver's license today and i'm so thrilled it's not even funny!
The streets of the world will now be mine to conquer. The autobahns shall bow down in front of me. The expressways shall lay me a red carpet and the mere roads of Abu Dhabi shall be my worthy host everyday *victorious smirk*

Life's going to be different know. Atleast i'm hoping it will. No cab-hunting. No waiting for Dad to pick me up from yada yada.

It's driven me before and it seems to be the way
that everyone else gets around.
But lately I'm beginning to find that when
I drive myself my light is found.

Yeah baby i've got it! And i'm excited as hell. w00t!
Now just get me a car someone...



Meh.

Fall to pieces...

Rise, oh desolate one.
Bow to the morning breeze
Look beyond your worries,
Your sorrows are at ease.

You're not alone,
there's a voice within
That's waiting to scream out
Close your eyes and Listen.

Just when it finds
A breach to vent
A ray of light it sees.
Your shoulders are bent.

You close yourself
You say "not now"
Afraid to hear
What it has to bestow.

Your soul, it shatters
the silence ceases
And before you realise
You're falling to pieces.

Just how screwed are we?

LOL! yesterday was a realy weird funny day...haha im cracking up at the thought of it..just that it freaked me out completely while it was actually happening!
My friend and me decided to go smoke since we had a free hour..we know its ramzan and the religious police is on the prowl..so we find this isolatd spot..look around for a good 10 minutes..and then light up...

Everything's going okay..the ciggie's almost done with..shoot! the secy pops up! from nowhere..it was so weird...i thought he's going to see our ID's...give us a lecturette and leave..but no! he took our ID's..told us to collect it after "30 minutes" and walked away..well ofcourse i was a little rude to him...completely my fault and i apologize for it!

Well, he's back after some time...and god knows how we spent that time..in misery and doubt and fear and what not (with occasional bouts of laughter ofcourse!)..lol barring the Strawberry Granitas..those were awesome!
he's back alright...we go up to him to say sorry..just to not fall into trouble y'know..and he says "take your bags the BOLIZ is here" OUCH !!! that hit us like a cannon ball on our stomachs! the POLICE?!! wtf!!

What followed next was a good 20 minutes of pleading, aplogozing and controlling laughter! some things just slipped outta me mind when i was talking to him..especially when i told him to "not lie" when he wrongly accused us of smoking regulary! the nudge i got from my fellow juvey was enough to shut me up!
i came up with weird excuses to not go with the polic..lamest being " i cant come now i have Radio class" i mean WTF was i thinking!!!

Oh well..a good ending to that weirdass day was that we dint finally get caught...*phew*..thanks a lot to Apoorva(from New Delhi..oh how i like the sound of that!) and Orange TShirt boy!! without you guys and your spontaneuous procrastination (oh did we really "just arrive" from India..and are our parents "Really really poor"?)..i wouldn't have been entering this post now! probably be breaking stones in jail :S

Anyhoo, day's passed. We've decided to not smoke again for some time now :P and be good MAHE girls!

Cheers to that :D :P

Traffic...

okay so this isnt one of those traffic-woes post or anything...what i'm referring to here is the traffic in my mind...where there's this jam...like a bottleneck of ideas and things i wanna say to people..things i want to tell myself..things that've just popped up in my head..and are waiting to rush out like a ripe volcano..

funny when..i should be working on my assignment..which..mind you..isn't all that easy..but these little thoughts..they're like kids with knives in their hands..throbbing and nudging me from the inside..okay..out they come!

Well i just realised, you dont always get what you want...erm..everyone knows that..but when you want something real bad..and it still refuses to get to you..it kills. I'd rather have myself severed by a shark.
Its funny how i'm thinking about Mom all of a sudden. i just made tea for her and she gave me a tight hug..said thankyou..well she really meant it..and just a couple of days back..i bitched about her on my previous post..but then again, life's like that yea?

i cant believe i forgot it's my friend's birthday today..the same friend..who about a couple of years back gave me my ticket to a differnt kind of life altogether...the kind with surprise visits and booze parties and skewed guy to girl ratios. Ah well, Happy Birthday sweetcheeks =D

"Fine" i tell my head, its time to get back to PR alright. Expect another coming soon, the volcano's still awake..took a lil breather that's all.

Till then....:)

No one knew...

...when she cried
when the bud of innocence was so blatantly plucked...trampled to nothingness..did she weep herself to bed? oh yes she did..did she complain? did anybody even care to hear her out? left alone to grow in her misery...a feeling of abandonment amongst people she called "her own"...she cried..oh yes she did...

No one to placate her sorrow..no one to confide in..no one to mollify the pain..she lay on her bed...a feeling of worthlesness...a looming heart...and then she cried...

"why me" she asked..looking up to the chipping ceiling of her room...the room that knew everything that happened within its walls...the room that provided her solace...but also reminded her of those tumultuous nights...the nights she wept silently in her bed...while someone was sporting and evil grin...lust in his eyes...no feeling of guilt...and she cried...

does she deserve this? was she hand-picked by Him to suffer like this? where did she go wrong...she was only 13...girlie-chatting over the phone..blushing at the sight of boys she considered "cute"...mall-crashing...sleepovers every weekend...and then...she was back at home...back to her share of desolation...a melancholy tune she hummed...

And then...shutting her moist eyes..withdrawing herself from this wretchedness...she silently cried.


Some statistics:
http://www.jimhopper.com/abstats/

Songs written on sexual abuse...my personal favorites..
Anna Lee by Dream Theater
Bringer of Torture, by Kreator
Daddy's Girl, by Scorpions
Dont let Daddy Kiss me, by Motorhead
Tier by Rammstein
Long way to Happy, by Pink
Family Tree, by Megadeth

Am I ?

Where do I even start?! it's everywhere, pretty much like that annoying virus that's been popping up on everyone's IM screens off late.

Just the other day, i was in my college bus, travelling back from Dubai, squabbling over things like what radio station to play and which gas station to syop at. There's this girl, wouldn't mention her name here, immoral racist remarks will follow due to my utter hatred towards her (yes, i dont like her too much). She's literally singing away to glory in her mother tongue, which, mind you, i took no offence to. And she continues singing. Next thing i know, this semi-stud walks into the bus. He's of a different ethnicity. She adores him secretly. Very conveniently, she defenstrates the song, and all of a sudden, starts cussing the language!
Too much to take, i give her my usual cold stare, boy she gets pised or what! and HOW! she tells me to mind my own "business", majority of which would include giving here the "stare" anyway!

Yeah, i know i'm coming across as this total b***h to most. but hey, lets get to the point already. Where'd all the love for your mother tongue go, out of the window at the sight of a man! Just a while ago, she was fighting with the driver to keep a particular radio station on, because it was in her language, and proudly she danced away to its tunes. The next thing i see, she's yelling at the driver for tuning onto "such cheap radio stations"!

And i'm like OKAY. Time to give her a piece of my mind. I walk upto her, manage to find myself a seat beside her (God help me calm my fury!) and talk. Yeah, no shouting, no abusing. I talk to her, ask her what really happened a lil while ago.

Out came words that hit me like a truck doing a 200! She's embarassed of being (her ethnicity)!! EMBARASSED?! Is there a need to be? Like who even decided what cultures are "happening" and which ones are "outdated"! All the hatred (very strong word, lighten it a lil) that i had for her broke into little bits and shot out at her like flying daggers. After getting myself back together, i told her to think about what she just said. She was upset too, and for a moment i actually empathized with her. However, moments gone, and i'm back to my b***hy self. And then, i think. Why do we have to be embarassed. Drat, the world cannot judge who's staying and who's going! Whack, on her head, and off i went, to preach to the rest of the bus. People actually agreed with me on many points, but couldn't get to nod heads with me on the fact that we were god enough, if not better, than our Western folks! This level of inferiority complex freaked me out. It's like inbuilt in our sysytems now, this feeling of lowness and hopelessness. It kills to know how many people feel like that. I've heard people saying things like "i wish i was white". Who even made them superior to us? We must not forget, that our culture and heritage is rooted way stronger than these melanin-less droids who want to take over the world.

It's really funny and scary at the same time, how people associate being WHITE to intelligence and superiority. This is a link to how wrong we actually got them!http://www.romankoch.ch/lachhaft/stupidamericans.htm

Just before i end it here, I want to make something clear. This isn't a ptriotic site or Anti-White at all! It's just sort of a motivational feed to all who think we're inferior in any way!
Come on now, wear your Pride Cape and kick some @$$ =D

living?

yeah..so we're living alright. REALLY ? i mean..is this what you call living? i was like shipped back to this dreary desert all the way from India in the peak of my teenage years..not cool..n then...i'm treated like i'm in school..fuck even worse! we're transported to "college" everyday in a damn bus...just that we dont have fixed seats..thats a wonder.
and then coming back home is a different story...you get back all sick and tired from the humiliatingly long journey..till you find out that you're not done as yet. sit with mom, tell her what happened at college, go through embarassing and freaky(sometimes) cell-check sessions...and what more..get interrogated on every SMS!
parallel phone lines, balance limits, funny stares at the sound of anything masculine..well life's just beginning to roll ainit?
ah well, if that's what life is, i'm sure as hell living it to the fullest! but seriously, do i not have the right to demand a better one! what makes folks think they own us? well they did give birth to us, but hey, we never asked them to! it was just a moment of sheer passion and emotion that led to this accident they named "melissa" :S
and yeah..i totally forgot to mention the "our generation" bull! parents somehow, froze into the same time period and fail to undertand that we've moved on! one thing i always hear from my mom, its almost a greeting in my house (much to the likes of "good morning")...it goes this way " we never demanded for cellphones and laptops when we were your age" ah someone remind them, they were deprived of such technological advancementts in their so-called "generation" !!
now i'm starting to realise, maybe i do have a bit of life not sucked out of me as yet :P
okay, im beginning to get irritated with my own constant whines and grief. So i'm gonna stop here and tell me how your lives are any different from mine!

Just for kicks though, i'd like to debate on it! for now, i shall go back to what i was doing earlier, listening to Dido... one of the few pleasures i treat myself to =D

RE-START

Oh well, i'm back.
Not that i went anywhere..or decided to hermit-ify myself, but you know how it is. Had a blog runing for almost 2 years when suddenly one day, i thought of taking a little break...and HOW! i delete my account from blogspot, get back to reading books and trying to figure out what's happening within the pink walls of my classroom( serious!) and after a few months i forget to get another account. yes, you're wondering why i'd do something as stupid as that, as a matter of fact, i'm thinking pretty much in the same line *hi fi*
so yeah, blogs gone. And then happens the mother of all screw-ups. format my pc and whoosh..everyting's gone! like it never existed. And they say the computer is safe? and that it is more reliable than the brain? i think NOT!
so i shall get back to my not-so-regular but worthy updates soon enough, get my blogs rolling and await comments from my fellow-bloggers.
till then...=)