I wanted to write something funny, something that would have you falling off your chair. That would threaten to split your sides. So that you'd know, that you deserve all the happiness in the world. I tried, I really did.

I wanted to write something nice. Something sweet, something naughty. So that you'd feel that funny thing, like your heart was expanding until it filled your chest. So that you'd believe.

I wanted to tell everyone about how special you are. I wanted to sit and write about each and every moment I've spent with you. No matter what we were doing, or not doing. To inscribe onto my memory, each moment. Each smile. Each happy tear. Because, you are. Special, that is.

It doesn't matter how we met, and it seems insignificant that we live in different states, countries. While you and I go way back to when we were kids in two plaits, you- I've just made acquaintance with. For the old- it's a damn miracle we're still what we were, and then some, for the new- mwahahaa.

That was my evil laugh, by the by.

Anyway, to each of you who drops by- you're all special to me. Some of you, I've grown up with, while you others have been more fortunate. In your own crazy ways, you've endeared yourselves to me. I might meet you in person someday, I might not, but your memory shall not fade. I mean, if I can remember you when I'm 86, I can remember you till my death bed.

I Just wanted to say, you're special and good and smart and much loved.

And that I'll be gone for a week, so have a blessed time!!

All my love.

Friendship is a very very funny concept.

Probably the funniest thing I've ever encountered. And you should know how many funny things I've come across.

It makes you and it breaks you. For one instant you believe you could be anything you wanted to be. That you could do anything, achieve anything. Dreams come true, anything is possible if you just believe, yada yada. And in the very next (yeah, that was a long instant) you doubt everything you knew you were, even.

You fight over the most monstrous issues, you pull hair, yell, promise revenge and then get over it and your bond is stronger than ever. And just when you think you've somehow done something right in your life to have gotten this lucky, you fight over the most trivial of matters and let go.

It's the oddest feeling in the world, not feeling. It's kinda nice too. Blank mind and infinite possibilities, you should try it.

Who would have thought, that old age would bring out the violence in me! By nature I'm a pacifist, a peace loving person. I'm all for second chances and all that. Maybe it's all the free time in my hands or the state of the world around me, I'm thinking encounters may be the way after all.

From the movie at least, Shootout At Lokhandwala, the encounter which is much talked about? Is just the killing of 6 gundas. They were gundas- there is no doubt about that. The police had actually proof. So, then what if they were killed? But of course the courts might have settled on a lesser punishment, given that they did kill only about a few hundred people every three months.

No civilians were killed, and seriously- do you think if these people had actually been handcuffed and thrown in jail they'd be "hanged until death" or given life imprisonment? They'd be out in two days. And that's taking into consideration the laziness which is imbibed in us.

Yes, "they didn't get a chance to change" and no,"then let's just do away with the whole judicial system"- let's not. But unless there s a someone amongst us who is willing to risk his hinny and actually make these changes in the system, this is what we're going to have to do.

Then, what's the difference between us and them, you may ask? None. I can't justify myself for actually thinking that what the police did then was right, and I don't really wish to. What I do know is that we ourselves are responsible for the scenario that has been put in front of me.

At each level whether in the judicial system, or the educational system or any other system there's corruption. The reason for that is that we're uneducated and poor. So, there you go. Actually I'm thinking maybe the encounters won't be necessary. The way we're going, we should wipe out ourselves before the middle of this century.

On other news, so that you actually give in to the urge to jump in joy, Karunanidhi asks the police to not harass the people of the state. The state finally makes helmets and seat belts compulsory, 2-3 years after each and every state in the country has already done it, and the CM asks the police to harass his people.

All my love.

As humans, we're a filthy race. I'd rather be called all sorts of animal, than a human being. We're lower than the dirt that sticks to a snake s belly. Far lower than that.

Against every instinct of self preservation I picked up today s newspaper. For the 1500091 st time, I was disappointed. Again. This time, it was an article on child abuse. These abusers even have fancy names and abbreviations- TSO s. Travelling Sex Offenders.

There's also CSA s and Bastards, and Filth- Of- The- Earth. And other s too, I'm only too much of a lady to write any of them down. But believe you me, the names are all in my head. One for each of the 400,000 children that are abused each year. One for each and every piece of shit that does it, and each and every piece of shit that lets it happen- if you aren't already burning in hell, you will. Soon.

The best part of the article was where we boast of how paedophile s from countries like Thailand and Sri Lanka are "deflecting" towards India, 'cuz of the laxity of the laws here. Oh Joy!

What pisses me off to no end is the fact that we know this is happening, we even- in a LOT of cases- know WHERE it is happening and HOW; but guess what? We do nothing 'cuz there aint no laws about this in our constitution. In fact, the word paedophile is non existent. Though I find a few hours of dreamless sleep every 2nd night of the week, because I know that there are a few bills pending in the parliament on this issue. Double joy!

Damn all this corruption, and damn all that that we call "humane". Damn each and every one of the filth that runs this country and any other countrys', that is so bleddy busy in satisfying the people and the organisations that helped get them into power, that they stamp and tread on the most innocent of the world.

I'd damn all the people at the lower level who are weak enough to give into such forces, but I can't. This is where I damn the fact that we aren't just robots, and actually have feelings.

A time will come when all this will end. A time will come when all this filth will get exactly what they deserve. Anything built on such a foundation, will have to fall down. And even if I single handedly have to bring it down, I will. Fact of the matter is, I'm not going down until I drag as many people with me as possible.

It's been ages since I did this template thing, and I desperately needed something new, at least for a while. And so, here it is- all new template, done by me. 'Picked up stuff from all these templates, and put it together; and, I must say I'm pretchy pleased with myself.

Black nail polish is a very mind boggling creation. Not the nail polish part, the black part. On a hand like mine- artistic, long fingers, and naturally shaped nails (sounding poetic wasn't the intention) from one angle it looks like a teenager s hand. Punk, careless, dare devil type. Sure, technically I am one, but then again I'm not one. From another it looks, elegant, if I may. Funny stuff.

Si` I got a new guitar! It's a C70 Yamaha, and the sexiest thing after the thing that is most sexy. So, I'm getting the much needed practise, and I can play Old McDonald and Jingle Bells. Not head banging stuff, but I'll get there. Hopefully.

My bestest friend on the whole planet, and the sweetest person after me just got some bad news. News that has a chance of getting real stinky, that is. It hasn't sunk in, and I hope it never has to. Dish, I'm praying. Have faith.

Oh and by the by,

BS: Really, you should pay up the fellow who writes on 42quirks.com- people are getting suspicious.

Ira: Hope you're having a lovely trip, and drop by soon.

Triya, Ay, Koze: If you guys are still bisiting, please do post and/or make your presence felt.

M: Please oh please, get a template that let s people comment. Pah.

Nav: Aren't you previously engaged? (Forgive the English, I've been reading Wodehouse)

All my love.

To Kill A Mocking Bird- If you haven't read, you should and if you have, well done you! Written in the simplest of ways, it talks of the various boundaries we inflicted on ourselves, and still do. A mocking bird does nothing but sing for you- killing it is hence a sin. Hilarious in a very elegant way (Yes weird choice of words- but they seem to say it best) Harper Lee (The author, that is; in case you were wondering) speaks of the plain and simple truths of life.

The thing that struck me most was the freedom that the children in the book are given to think, explore and in turn question. Oh sure, it's the jingle all schools sing and of course the Ministry, but is it really what we're doing? Put simply, we're told of things.

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri- After all the hype I was disappointed. Terribly in fact. To be fair I guess one could account the disappointment to the fact that I didn't read about the book, before I took it up. As ordinary as the story is you have to credit the author who managed to describe every person in the guy's train compartment 25 years ago- traits, clothes, what they talked about, about each of their families and their kids characters, everything- whilst his wife is giving birth to their first born. Not every person can fit so much information, in a scene as such.

The end was what I had concluded previously- the earth is round. What goes around, comes around. There's no point in running away from anything, even the smallest things because they are going to come back and bite you hard.

Crisis by Robin Cook sucks, to put it in one word. There's hardly the excitement one expects from this author even though he's brought in a bully, terrorizes children and tried to bring an adrenalin rush by describing a car chase sequence. To be more articulate, the book is a terrible effort to mix medicine and law. A subject that I assure you is fascinating, if you may. To conclude, the book sadly was ill cooked.

Last time I looked, I wasn't too sure what prompted my need to face things, in some cases even provoke the other person because I was guilty just to get it over with while in others there was no reason to prod at all. There's a number of explainations, sure, but none that... fit?

I feel bad, yes... but I'm not ashamed. I can face what went wrong becaue of me, but I'm not hiding in some corner, no more. It's a powerful tool- shame. If you can face yourself in the morning, you're on the right track; if you can't, I'm afraid my friend you need to sort a few things out.

Having figured this out only recently, it's still sinking in. While a major factor, I'd still have to put a lot of it down to asking for a fight- you know it'll come sooner of later... the whole wheel of life, good and then bad and then good, seasons, change... so why not get it done with NOW?

Blah.

Music and Lyrics is a must watch, even if you usually avoid chick flicks. The humor and wit will keep you in your seats. Plus, there is Hugh Grant.

Million Dollar Baby- if you want to feel bad, sad and all that, sure be my guest.

Provoked on the other hand is not something I'd recommend, seeing now that I have completely stopped touching newspapers unless of course I have absoultely nothing else to read and have made it a point to not watch news channels unless in dire cirumstances.

Trageic story, yes. Shouldn't happen to anyone. Movie isn't all that great- in spite of the emotion that the story carries the movie is distant and cold. Oh sure, they've tried, but it hasn't really worked.

That's kinda all I had to say. And some more stuff, guess I'll save it for another post.

Ta.

Hear me out.

Read aloud, let it settle, process and then react. Don't assume that it's me and hence it will be one way and not another and tell me what you think.

We don't always know everything about everything, but we do know something about some things and a lot about others- sometimes we even know almost everything about some things. Some we know, others we think we know and yet others we make ourselves believe 'cuz they're being said of by others we know, or who claim to know us and us them. Point is- we lose perspective. Of who we are, what we stand for and what the other person means to us.

Whether you came across a person reading a book, browsing a magazine or watching a movie- you either like the character or don't; you pick up a few traits you wished you had, some you have and others you'd rather no one around you did.

What attracts me most, now that I sit to think about it, is the fact that I KNOW what happens to the person in the end. That there is a happily ever after, and a proper way to get there. Take for example a very typical case- man/woman is from a broken family, and has learnt to not believe in "soul mates" and "love" (you'd think I were obsessed with the issue); that's how she lives life and treats all the relationships she encounters- nothing lasts forever. But then, there comes along a woman/man who refuses to give up on them- who refutes everything they've ever believed in; and slowly they thaw, give in, realize that it was all a shield, take a risk and there's the whole walking into the sunset.

So what do I do? Make myself believe in exactly all that. I know what's to happen to such a person down the road. I know what others like about these people, I know what they don't. And I do that.

Take an approx number of the number of books I've read in say only this past year- 1000? 10,000? Something in between- whatever. Add up all the people I've read about, watched and observed and you get a rough estimate of how many traits I've incorporated and how many I've chucked. What does that make me?

One helluva patch worked quilt, that's what.

The answer doesn't bother me as much as the implications of it do. How much original? If anything at all, that is. How much fake? How much just an effort at being something I'm not?

There was a point to all this, I swear. Now if I could only remember what it was.

Serendipity is my most favoritest word in the whole wide world.

Usually the fruits of my endless aritistic pursuits is trashed, and if perfect in my eyes- gifted. So when you ask me to show you of my "art" I find limited, recent stuff.



'Made around 6 or 7 of these- I was just making use of the paint left on the brush. Anyway, those have gone off in pairs to my dearest bro and an aunt- I just hope they're deemed worthy of adorning any wall of the house.











This here sweetheart, was one of my first attempts at making stuffed toys- I ended up making a life size dog some time back, surprised myself with it too.









The next piece, finds a small place in my sis s room; those of you who've been here for the past year know of it. For those of you who haven't- this was one of those lesser known brilliant ideas. When my mum heard me shout it out, 'cuz I was in a crowded bus, she asked me to find a place and sit down. Was done in 12 hours flat. And for those still reading, she still hasn't taken it off- yay me






Like I was saying the other day- for a whole 4 years black and white was my life. Or at least the part where the thought of making something didn't nauseate me. Anyway, that period led me to be known, in my small circle, for pieces like the one shown on the right- look closely and you'll find a lot more to it than just random black lines. Almost everyone who means anything to me, owns one of these.



Guitar classes.

It's a funny thing- most of the stuff I do, write- has to be inspired. You can't ask me to sit, hand me a bursh and paints, and order me to draw and actually expect it to happen.

Boiled! The temperatures are soaring, and we've only just reached the middle of the month! Thankfully, I got done with my exams before.

I am one of those few lucky people who had(3)/has(1 + 2) grandparents who absolutely spoiled her. Spoiled her rotten, actually. A lot of it was cuz I was the first born of the best set of kids, either side had seen. And well, I was me. I hear you say when you say elder people can be a pain, but I lose you when you need me to understand that. To me they are a nice pain. I can't imagine otherwise.

I FINALLY saw Music & Lyrics. It's cute. And it's got Hugh Grant. It's made of nice stuff- good wit. Go watch! Scoot.

Have you ever felt like a chair? Or a sofa? Any piece of furniture? Which is there to just be used. Doesn't argue, doesn't retaliate, doesn't fight, doesn't ask for anything- it's purpose is to do what it's made to do. Be sat on, or moved around to suit another s whim. It's a unique feeling- you should try it some time!

Sanity teaches you, or wishes to teach one; as is in my case- that there is no soul mate no "the one", just a person who you are more compatible with than most. Or a few people, if you must. And you just choose one, or let one choose you and live the rest of your lives with them.

Insanity, which is abundant, refuses such futile justifications for being cowardly. What kind of a life will you lead, with no passion? What'll you do with compatibility when what you need is a champion; the biggest hug in the world; someone to share your joy with; a slow dance; to lie on your back and admire the skies? What happens then?

Blah.

I'm good, hope you are too.

All my love.