Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Some words

She tugged at his coat, as they walked side by side, its almost like she looked up to him for protection. The way little girls in frocks do when they're walking with daddies. He noticed it, yet pretended not to. They barely spoke, they had spoken all they had do. Now it was time, to just feel.. 
When they had to cross the street, his icy cold fingers would incontrovertibly slip into her warm ones. The amalgamation was just too much to resist. 
As they silently made way to the lounge, she found it hard not to look into his eyes again and again, his integrity radiating through. She suddenly became alert, if the others at the bar saw them together. Them, now in person, together. She tugged at him even more tightly. He feigned a smile.
He ordered, she nodded. He knew, everything, about her wants, her needs. They sat very close together. She could feel his breath on her hair. 

"You give me the wings to fly
You are the clear blue sky
I'm floating so free, so high
Falling with grace, for you, am I
You give me the wings to fly ooo yeah"

He led her to the dance floor, and they moved, in a perfect synchronized motion. He held her close, so close, she could hear his heartbeat.He kissed her hair, and she tugged at him, tighter than ever. Their bodies so close, you couldn't make out they were two people. They seemed one, in every which way, except...

"What do we do now?", she asked.

"Lets go home", he whispered, and led her away.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


Why the fuck do people set a fucking yardstick that everyone has to comply with? So what if you have 500 fucking pics on facebook whereas I have just a 100, most hidden. What the bloody difference does it make if you change your display picture twice every fucking day, whereas mine has remained the same since 1921?  And, and, and I will not, come-what-may, entertain your lame inquiries as to why I haven't put up my own pic on fb since ages, now.
Go, fuck yourself, if you can.
In other words, you may talk to the hand. 

I just wrote this epic status on facebook that i loved. Thought I'd share it here. It was conceived while trying to separate a milk bikis cream biscuit.
*trying to separate a cream biscuit into two with one part retaining the cream is a very tense moment with great responsibility attached to it.*

Milk bikis, you get the final bow. =) ♥ 

UPDATE:  since the post didn't have a pic, i thought i'l add a pic of a perfectly separated milk bikis biscuit. =P

Thursday, January 20, 2011

For life.

"She said, "I want you,
as much as I need you""
Kneeling down,
beckoning him close..
close to her heart.
The determined wall created,
had finally been broken down.
Alluring him with her love,
her undying loyalty,
her unspoken commitment.
"Forever", she seldom said.
But "for life" is how she felt.
Humbled in his love,
the vulnerable her,
that had been hidden from everyone,
but him,
often won him over.
She was a baby,
mistakes she had made, many.
Every time, his eyes flared,
she'd kneel down again,
tears welling up,
craving for the love,
which returned soon after.
Funny, they were,
always together, in amour and tears.
Sometimes severe,
but often effusive.
Together they'd be,
in love and pain,
"for life" is how, she'd let it remain.

P.S. The first two lines have been credited to the song- I want you by Kings of Leon.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Edge of Desire

Don't say a word; just come over and lie here with me

'cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see.

I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe.
There, I just said it; I'm scared you'll forget about me.

So young and full of running

all the way to the edge of desire.
Steady my breathing, silently screaming
I have to have you now.

Wired and I'm tired;

think I'll sleep in my clothes on the floor.
Or maybe this mattress will spin on its axis
and find me on yours.

Edge of desire by John Mayer.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Mysterious him.

He told me that he loved the way I talk. There was something about the way he said things. You just had to believe him. They'd ask, the others, the ignorant, about how blatantly I trusted his words. But they'd perhaps never know, how much I love that he had nothing to analyse about me. He was subtle, the way the breeze is when its barely there. At times, he was flattering. They'd ask me about him, his name, about how he looked. I could only feign a smile. He's my mystery, my very own, and he's not to be shared with anyone, not in words, not anyway, anyhow. For him I was the most beautiful dancer in the world, when in reality, my feet lay numb since the last five years. For him, I was the sweetest voice in the world, never mind the fact that I barely talk. For him, I was a vivacious beauty, never mind the scar that covers half my face. For him, I was alive, though I was dead for the rest...

UPDATE : Well, many people have gone on to ask whether this story is fiction or not. Well, it is. It is basically about a defamed woman having many a weaknesses, but with a guy, for whom, she's perfect the way she is. Some lines may be inspired though. ;)

Thursday, January 6, 2011


Have been out of blogger for a while. Forgive me, it's not my fault. It was the writer's block. Continuously  posting stuff here, has ruined my basic thinking process. And then, when I was all geared up to write, my net connection started giving me troubles. Internet can be such a bitch, I tell you. Well, happy new year guys. Hope all of you have a had a nice two-zero-one-one start.
My new year has sort of started on an alright note, though I still can't fathom the fact that 2010 is over. Its been such a tumultuous year, I just can't seem to get over its craziness.
WELL, I prepared a small teeny-weeny wish list for the big eleven. Its not that long, trust me, and its not that illogical either.

I want to run like crazy into the arms of my most favourite person on earth.

The nikon d3100. Please, god! Please.

I want to be finally called a xavierite.

Right now, I want the most amazing internship in the world, uhmm, preferably at ELLE. Please, God!
I want to be in the cultural committee for Malhar. Alright, that's too far-fetched an idea. I need to get into xaviers first.
I want mum and dad to be totally content with the decision I've taken.
There's so much to be done in two-zero-one-one. I can't stop fantasising about it.

P.S. I know I have a lot of catching up to do. Have to check out posts real soon.