Indecisive and in love.

You cant be in love and be smart. It just doesn't happen that way.
It doesn't bend down to give place to your whims, fancies and idiosyncrasies.
You cant manipulate it, it wont move. You cant ask it to go back now and come later, it doesn't give a damn. It doesn't know what your parents would prefer.
Oh it doesn't give a lightning fast flying fuck to that!

Time? No.
 Job or no job? No.
 Recession? No.

That's probably why they say its blind.

Did you know that before? Its something only people with a big load of indecisiveness understand.

When you're too involved to be able to say goodbye without tearing up in the eye and tearing up your heart a little bit, you hope for a miracle but nothing comes your way.

Keep looking?
 I don't want to right now.
 Just let me keep what could be rightfully mine.
Don't be so careful then. 
You don't know the last thing about love if you don't dare to jump. 
That's the kind of quote a friend posted on her facebook a week before she ran away.
Oh! And?
Her family has gone from nearly suicidal to barely surviving now. Love is not practical.
 Practical? Who on earth told you its practical?! As if its some plan the government came up with to encourage people producing solar energy.    

The rainy day Romantic

I know this is such a cliché... But you can't say you don't feel that way  on a cool rainy day.

 It's when everything from tiny tree branches to protruding plastic pipes decide to spray you with some chill refreshing water. It's when, as if on purpose, they play these chirpy love songs on the radio; and your heart sings along. It's when Bajjis become all the more heavenly. It's when your fingers become ice cold, and to warm them you squeeze them into a friend's palm. It's when window seats in all the buses are left empty because they're damp. It's when you don't sweat a drop and yet you're wet anyway. It's when terraces become more inviting and garages more warm. It's when there's a earthy smelling layer of mildew on wooden school desks. It's when all the trees on the road look like little kids just out of a bath and it's when little kids look like  tramplings from all the puddle jumping. It's when your window sill is full of crows drying themselves. It's when you think of homeless people. It's when you run outside to get the clothes you forgot about. It's when the city feels fresh, the homeless cars feel washed, the subways feel full and the the beach feels clean. The beach. Good lord, the beach. The sea seems so wild, as if it can't wait to come invade the shore; the boats seem to toss uncontrollably on those waves...

The rain is the best thing to happen to you. It's also the worst thing to happen to you. Especially if you have to sit with your back to a window with a view writing a silly exam. It doesn't let you concentrate. You dream with the pen in your hand, your mind throws some memories at you, and then you feel the need to just write this post down. In a french exam. What do you do then?

Town Leavers

Your life was none of their business and yet they chose to step in. They walk in with their little bundles of things you've never seen before. And before you know it, moment by moment, memory by memory, they take up all that place inside. Them and their bundles. When cog wheels have turned on and on, after all that happens, that is said, that is done, that is shed, that has grown, that has changed, that has bettered and that has passed, the news is broken to you. That minute of knowing is no different from the others.

Pacts are made and so are promises. Sometimes even that doesn't happen. Debates on importance of physical presence happen. Everything from Skype to Facebook to Whatsapp is thought of. And then after the last few desperate hours spent together, bags are packed, tags are tied, luggage is checked in; trains are caught. 

You walk back home through the same old road, but you don't know yet. Brave attempts are made to keep those cogs tighter still. As they seem to loosen unconsciously, you notice this vaccuum within, from the nothingness they leave behind; from the space that was them, the warmth that was them, the images that were them, the food, the arguements, the hugs, the smell that was them.

Vaccuum remains a vaccuum remains a vaccuum. One shape doesn't fit all. So that's how you walk around then on. With a vaccuum inside. You'll go to the same places, see the same things, see the same things change, do the same things, meet the same people and walk through the same road. Except this time around you will want to put a silent sign somewhere:

                                              

                                                     "Beware of the Town Leavers"

மாற்றம்

இம்முறை வானம் கறுத்து பொழிந்த அழகை உன்னிடம் சொல்லத் தோன்றவில்லை, அன்றிரவு கண்ட கனவும், தொடர்ந்து எழுதிய கவிதையும் உனக்கு தெரியாது.

இப்பொழுது உறுத்துகிறது ஏன் மாறிவிட்டதென. உன்னால் உணரவாவது முடிகிறதா?

தண்ணீர்

இம்முறை உடைந்தழும் என் கண்ணீர் குடங்கள், எத்தனை நாள் உனை கண்டு பனித்திருக்கின்றன...

வலை இல்லாத படகுக்காக கடல் மீது குமுறும் மழைக்கும், பூ மீது நீர் தூவ மலையை சுற்றும் சாரலுக்கும் அவ்வளவு பேதம்.

கவிதை எலிகள்

ஒருவழியாக வேலை செய்ய போகும்போதும், முயற்சி செய்து தூங்க போகும்போதும் தலைநீட்டுகின்றன உன் செல்ல கவிதை எலிகள்.அவற்றின் வால் பிடித்து, உயிர்கொடுத்து உன்னிடம் அனுப்புவதர்குள் நான் படும் பாடு... :)

உறவு

முதல் துளி கண்ணீர் அரும்பியதும், இருகக்கட்டி முகம்புதைத்தழும் உறவில்லை,
உலகமே உரங்கியபின் குருந்தகவல் அனுப்பும் உறவில்லை,
கைநீட்டி கேட்கும் உறவில்லை,
கால்கட்டி பார்க்கும் உறவில்லை,
அருகமர்ந்து படிக்கும் உறவில்லை,
அருகேயே இருக்கும் உறவில்லை.

எங்கேயோ இருந்து வந்து உன் நினைவுகளால் மட்டும் என்னை அழவைக்கும் உன் உறவு என்ன உறவு?

குரல்

என் பிறந்தநாள் வாழ்த்தை முணுமுணுத்த உன் குரலை நினைவு படுத்தினாலும், சங்குக்குள் பெசும் காற்றைக் கேட்க பிடித்திருக்கிறது எனக்கு.

அலை

என் துளி கண்ணீரை தனதென கொண்டு, ஓடி வந்து உஷ்ஷ் எனும் கடலிடம் அழப்பிடித்திருக்கிறது எனக்கு.

காலாவதி

பாரிஸ் நகரத்தின் ஒரு கருநீல மாலையில் காதல் மழையாய் பெய்யும். அப்பொழுதும் எனக்காய் ஒரு கையில் குடை பிடித்து கூட நடப்பாய் நீ.

Memento Mori

Just saying. For general good. 

• It's okay to be lazy. But its only ok.
• It's okay to be single. It really is. 
• It's okay to fall in love and be quiet about it. If you don't want to say, DON'T.
• It's okay if your thighs touch. Measuring flabs with Vernier Calipers is just pushing it.
• It's okay if you don't score the best marks in class. Trust me when I say no one cares.
• It's okay to be forgetful. you'll know who actually cares enough to remind you. ( put a reminder if not applicable)
• It's okay to feel lonely at times. Everyone does.
• It's okay if you're fair, it's okay if you're dark, it's okay if you're thin, it's okay if you're fat. Things change. Do not care about superficial people, gym ads and Fair and Lovely ads.
• It's okay to believe or not believe in God.
• It's okay to be lied to, to be cheated. Cry, if you want to, for the loss of trust. It's not upto you to judge. Nothing is.
• It's okay to be the hero, it's ok to be the side kick. I've one word for you, Egoism.
• It's okay to lose, it's okay to win. A race well run is all that matters.
• It's okay if your kitten dies.
• It's okay if your pani puri has no sweet pani.
• It's okay to loved, It's okay to be hated.

You are all you have, come what may. And you are all that matters. You're okay, come what may.

Eventually everything goes away. So Carpe Diem.

Apocalypse Episode 00001. The Booty Shake

"It was an 8.9 in Indonesia and I felt it!!! I felt it Rock my bench!!!"

It was incredible, alright? My first tremor. It actually was pretty nice. I was at the Uni sitting and eating lunch on the bench just outside class. All my classmates had left because the department had let us go early today (Damned earthquake couldn't have come on a day when we actually have marathon classes till five :-|). I decided to go to the library and do some reference once I finish my lunch. Gingerly, I sat between my seniors who were preparing for their Viva Voce and talked nonsense. The Head of the Department and the other teachers were inside the room judging them.

So suddenly I feel the bench rocking, as if someone was rocking it on purpose. I shreik out loud asking Gayathri akka if she was doing it. No. She gave me this look saying I was doing it but NO. Even as the three of us were wondering what this was ( I didn't want to shout out loud and scream like an idiot) Vialli comes up with this super theory about how the  room below has a higher ceiling and their fan has some turbo speed thingy that kind of reverberates on the floor sometimes. :) :D

By this time Asha has come out, we ask her to sit on the bench so she could feel the tremours and she takes a few seconds to believe that I actually am not shaking the bench! And then we alert those inside. I gobble my lunch, pack my bag and jog (JOG) downstairs. 

All of us now on the ground, we notice students and profs from other departments crowding outside. The whole campus abuzz with people talking excitedly (a rare sight at the Uni). The beach of course is just across the road. A worried Head of the Department asked us first years to leave home ASAP. The seniors and the HOD share a joke about how the earthquake came because all these people did their viva pretty well. :P Which is when twitter tells me its an 8.9 in Indonesia. (Twitter savy me) After spreading that bit o news to those near me I realise phone networks are jammed. I texted a few, called three four people, wanted to tweet to Sharon Thulasi but couldn't. By now phone is incapable of even completing calls. 

I plug in my earphones, tune into FM and hear Radio Mirchi Senthil going "தமிழ்நாட்ல இப்போ நாம உணர்ந்த நில அதிர்ச்சி வந்து இந்தோனேசியால வந்த 8.9 hectare (யேய்! அது ரிக்டர் யா!)  அளவு பூகம்பத்துனாலதான்  நு நமக்கு...” 

I cross the road, take 27h from Anna Square. Outside the window there was no surf on the sea. I spotted couples far away (couldn't make out if they were making out), groups of old men sleeping on the lawns, the samosa sellers and a couple of dogs drinking water from the sprinkler. As if nothing had happened. On the opposite side of course Ezhilagam is full of people waiting anxiously with their bags for buses. No one is in the aavin store (They have awesome hot milk). All along the side of the road people standing, the bus stops and is immediately fillled with aunties and uncles carrying leather bags and pseudo Tupperware lunch boxes.

What was different today? The men and the women excitedly exchanging how water cans shook and how they couldn't call their respective husbands and wives and stuff. Sinking back into fm I hear this chennai live RJ wanting to ask a live caller if police protection has been given to people in potentially dangerous areas (Ummm? Dude?). This earthquake is fun, I agree but I don't think police really can save people from tidal waves.

I find mum and uke half way. They waited for me near a chaat place (The chaat place, Kolkata Mithai bhavan) I realised it might be my last day on earth so I grabbed a plate of pani puris and then we decided to go to T Nagar to get the little miss a pair of Jeans. NaiHa helped us just right. The akkas talking about how they didnt feel the tremour. ( I did! I did I did I did! My first tremor!) I grab a cone ice cream and a nice black top I am gonna wear on friday and reach home.

To type this out and put it on damned FB. God I need to get a life. Pretty soon. But in case the world does come to an end before that, I'd have atleast told my little world about the first tremor that actually rocked my life.

PS. The only seemingly negative thing about YOU being the 'Feeler' of the tremor is that you're the one calling people up and texting people to see if they re alive. I anxiously (read excitedly) call my mum and she goes "என்ன?? நிலனடுக்கமா??  நாங்க ரோட்ல இருக்கோம் இங்க எல்லாரும்  வெளில இருக்காங்க செரி சீக்ரம்  வீட்டுக்கு வா  T Nagar போலாம்...”

An Open letter to God

Dear God,

Hope you're doing well up above. I am ok. I am being taken care of, I've food and I've People who love me. That's enough and Thankyou for that. I like how you sent me that last life lesson. First some heartbreak and then some immense hope and love. Thanks for that as well.

Now. Coming to the point of this letter.  Not that I don't believe in you... Some things you do don't seem to make sense to me. But then most things in life don't, so no big deal.(Ouch. I know.) I just thought I should tell you why I call myself an Agnostic. 

I am an agnostic because I believe people have ritualised you way too much. You're abstract. You're probably Gravity or some smaller-than-a-neutrino/ nano particle that causes 'life', you're probably that mysterious phenomenon that caused the big bang, you're probably something mankind still has to discover with its semi blind science.

Please, these people only have theories of as to how the world came into being, they do not know if a wave is the same thing as a particle, they went and made the atom bomb and a lot of them think money stuffed up their safes is going to keep them alive.(Sucked at 12th grade science but still) They've no idea what they're doing (neither do I, frankly) but a LOT of them fail to understand you're a concept that can give us all peace and happiness and all the nice things from Idealism  land. That you're abstract. Like love. Love, that is personal, or should i say Customised, for every individual. That putting you through legends and stereotypes and mythology is probably great to listen to and watch animated movie versions of and probably even believe in but not to cling on to and be fanatic about. That even YOU are not worth killing other beings!

To me, You're a great concept; a Comfort Blanket of the first order and of the  best quality. All of us need comfort blankets and emotion cushions. We like to think of you as Benevolent, Just, Good, Loving and Forgiving. A warm voice that talks us into mental peace and calm. An all powerful voice to complain to, to derive strength from to fight things out of our hands. Like our mothers/fathers/best friends/special persons. Each one of us have different needs and so our emotion cushions differ.

Believing in you is fine. Killing for you is not cool at all.Because all your religions (Religions are but your different flavors. Like ice cream flavors. 'Coz you obviously wanted us to have a choice) How could you be so quiet about it? Send something. I dunno a meteor or something. Or an apocalypse. Or sausage rain. Something. Anything that will make people see that its stupid to fight and kill, no matter what; that its abominable to be wrong no matter who they are; that it is against Nature to Lie and Cheat; that discrimination is inhuman and NOTHING justifies taking another human's life.

Morals are for scaredy cats they'll say. Morals make a man, a man and a woman, a woman.  The others can go do sexually unpleasant things to themselves. Why? Because thats what they'll do anyway. And Thats what they deserve all life long anyway.

Sincerely,

Me.

PS. I might have been serious about the sausage rain. :) 

Poetry and People

While discovering Szymborska that day
In a state of dreamy stupor, I realised
Why I like Poetry and some People.

In those Lines...
Some painstakingly measured,
Some that escape a perturbed mind,
Some that say it all,
Some that bare nothing,
Some that imply and
Some purely opaque...

In those People...
Some that smile for no reason,
Some that live to eat,
Some that want to be shepherd,
Some that hide their core,
Some that leave unturned no stone and
Some that love the moon...

Both Lines and People,
When they leave things unsaid,
Dark corners are disclosed,
Well known to them.

And In these dark corners,
My thoughts gather
To see a bit of what
I would be rather.

Unusually Strange

This song called 'Arms' by Christina Perri. A song so beautiful, it brings tears to my eyes. I never thought I would post it here though. For You. 


*For this pair of Arms that I will always need and love in life. I see your point. Nothing has changed from my side though.* 


ARMS

I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start

You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
You put your arms around me and I'm home

How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home

The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone

You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home

I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved 'Till you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go


I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home

You put your arms around me and I'm home 

I just want you to know

Because you are the man I respect,
I want you to know,
Respect comes from Greatness,
and Greatness comes from Honesty.

Because you are the best Wordsmith,
I want you to know,
Sometimes its essential to keep them words,
Straight, simple and clear.

Because you write to my soul,
I want you to know,
Those deep pools of syllables may prove dangerous,
To the unsuspecting onlooker.

Because you seem anxious to not hurt,
I want you to know,
A comforting lie only induces pain,
And  penury of trust.

Because you also embrace the wolf in you,
I want you to know,
That the lamb within must be safe too.

Because you are prince charming,
I want you to know,
That love is your saddle; not your sword.

Because you told me you'll be better when you're older,
I want you to know,
Nothing refines you like really speaking your mind.