There truly IS a sense of mystery and enigma linked with the women as a whole, and womenhood abounds with several of its well-kept secrets, as well as equally baffling choices and acts which are just so inexplicable, even to fellow women, but still they continue to be universal! I know it's pretty strong statement I make here, but then a
little patient thought would make anyone agree, for it's indisputable the complexity of women. And yes, despite being a female myself, I'd agree to this (ir)rationale of the women's mind. I'm not really out here to divulge too many secrets here, but just to relate more aspects which force me to think if I look at them from a disjoint perspective, keeping myself away from it.
The most conspicuous of these are the issues of choices when it comes to marriage/relationships/life partners. Sometimes, the choices are pretty baffling, even if they are relatively free from the "love-is-blind" syndrome. (In my vainest moments, I've lamented once or twice to guys who call girls brainless that I agree with this fact on the sole grounds that girls DO fall for guys and care for them).One such issue, rather contemporary around me, is the baffling number
of girls I see in IIT who have married IIT-ians! Almost all of them have married either their batchmates or a senior or something like that. And obviously all of them can't be happy love stories born in college culminating in marriage. Yet at a recent alumni meet in my hostel, every woman was the wife of an ex-IITian. which brings me to my first question- why are they so stupid? Can't they find anyone else?
And irrespective of the title of the post, it's about men as well- Why do they agree??!!?!?!
Leave the cynicism apart pls, and try to think a little reasonably. For four years or more, IIT guys continue calling every girl in the college all sorts of things, and girls have sufficient frustration and disregard for them. Sure there are the few lovebirds around, but for it to be a mass phenomenon, there has to be a deeper story.
My theory goes as follows:
1. We're at one level victims of the herd mentality, and therefore we ridicule the opposite sex as "Ah! these IITian guys!" or "These IITian gals!" just because everyone seems to be doing so, and generalisation is convenient. At a personal level though, we feel differently when it comes to individuals so statements like "all guys are disgusting, pervert B******s but X is a sweet guy, and Y is a cute friend, and Z is so decent" are equally true.
2.Even though you may argue that not all guys marry IIT gals, I believe that's more because of the ratios than anything else. I think a lot many would agree to have an IITian wife, if they have an option. Not all, but a substantial number. I feel this because of the COMPATIBILITY factor. I feel a lot of IITians do not fit in that well in the society outside, because of the 'different' ways of growing up. It's tough
adjusting to the 'outside' way of life after all u have seen is childhood, acads, JEE, four yrs here, an rigorous job schedules. I feel it's tough for IIT guys to adjust with a DU-type girl, and vice-versa.
3.The ways of thinking are so radicaly different. Understanding comes naturally in same college-same profession cases, as even practical things like adjusting to habits, language, work timings etc becomes easy.
3.For girls, it's more about a natural preference for a life partner who's superior to them-esp. professionally. As Shalabh put it, there has to be a power balance in a marriage, and one doesn't want to end up with a husband who has an ego clash with you because you earn more! For
someone from IIT, the bare minimum is another IITian.
4.Someone might say, that's because nobody else marries IIT girls. But obviously that isn't true. IIT girls are bold, smart, intelligent, mature and understanding. And for all cynics, the fact remains that you don't want a show piece or a glam doll for a life partner, do you? It's a question of life, and therefore sanity is the need. So there shouldn't be a problem, unless insecurities are a huge issue.
5.IITians are like a certain elitist section in the society, with whom every interaction has an 'aloofness' factor. But that's just a stupid idea!
Having said all this, I'm a little at peace, but still a little amazed at the extent of this phenomena...No, I'm not looking for a guy around as my life partner. Not yet.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
I SWEAR.....
Perhaps the most popular words and phrases of any laguage are its abuses, and not surprisingly there are several genuine as well as invented ones that adorn every spoken language and its cousin sister!Infact the first few words that everyone wants to know about any hitherto unknown language are it's abuses....Yes, the translation for "I love you" is a distant second, and basics like "My name is..." and "good morning!" are even below. No matter how complicated they sound, and in whichever language, it hardly takes any time for them to register in memory. Everyone has their favourite few, and some have become so common that depending on place and time, there'll be some words noone would ever notice were an abuse.
Again everyone has their own innovations and improvisations, like aidoneous's three-state automata and Mani's arbit improvisations. There's also this art of "writing" down abuses in a way where u do not exactly say it, but everyone knows what u mean. Use the "strike" HTML tag, call it "an obscene four letter word" like him , or use strategic asterisks like me, him, him and so many others- the choice is yours! But in all cases, it mostly always brings a faint smile to my lips while reading!
I think abuses would also rank high on the list of words we use without knowing, or caring, what the real meaning is...Not to be taken literally is the key, but the feel, the effect, the PUNCH...is what really counts! Some sentences almost feel incomplete without an abuse, though of course this does vary from person to person.
No wonder, one of the most popular songs this year has been this by Zeest.
For those who use it a lot, especially students who stay away from home in hostels etc., I guess one of the biggest practical problems faced are to control the "natural flow" when at home , or in front of parents or profs! I know of people who almost can't finish sentences without at least two 'censored' words, and there was a time I grew so used to hearing them from all the guys in my group all the time(of crse among themselves[:P]), that my ears used to miss the sound at times!!!:D Initially, there used to be a time when they didnt know me much and actually used to come up an apologize if by chance uttered an unspeakable word! That apology bit used to be a little embarassing to me, to be frank. But later, everyone got used to it.
Personally, I dont abuse much...hardly actually, and sometimes
I feel so angry at myself, as well as handicaapped, because I feel like venting my anger and frustration out somehow, but cant and dont. It's the case with most girls actually, for very few of them do swear, atleast in public. Speaking for myself, I feel greatly pissed if a girl loudly abuses in HINDI, because curiously enough hindi abuses sound so so so much gross as compared to anything in English. So I cant tolerate atleast girls in Hindi. With guys you can say I've become rather used to it, so it doesnt matter much. I'm pretty comfortable oif the guy is, and if thats hw he speaks. I rather feel uncomfortable when guys speak under the breath and in conscious nudge-nudge-wink-wink camouflaged language, suppressing words just because "there are ladies around!". It's best when ppl are themselves-even girls, and therefore I do not disapprove of anyone speaking their mind out, of crse appropriated to place and time. It's kinda fun calling all men B*****ds in all-girl meetings!
The best option, when it comes to language, if you have the luxury, is to abuse in your "mothertongue"-by which I mean a language that people around do not understand. The person being abused may or may not. Sometimes though, this does irritate the 'audience' in for a juicy audio-visual treat, but I've seen that often the audience too enjoys the addition of a new word to vocabulary.[:P]
Some little facts I was wondering about are these....
1. We often use names of animals as abuses...Isn't "human" sometimes a bigger abuse!
2. why do "females" form so often a part of abusing...as in ur sister..... and ur mother.....why always drag females!
3. Why do some abuses become "chalta hai" after some time of use, irrespective of meaning?
OK, no more Q/A sessions here...just tell me..wat's ur favourite abuse?
And yeah, pls don't give me one now!
Again everyone has their own innovations and improvisations, like aidoneous's three-state automata and Mani's arbit improvisations. There's also this art of "writing" down abuses in a way where u do not exactly say it, but everyone knows what u mean. Use the "strike" HTML tag, call it "an obscene four letter word" like him , or use strategic asterisks like me, him, him and so many others- the choice is yours! But in all cases, it mostly always brings a faint smile to my lips while reading!
I think abuses would also rank high on the list of words we use without knowing, or caring, what the real meaning is...Not to be taken literally is the key, but the feel, the effect, the PUNCH...is what really counts! Some sentences almost feel incomplete without an abuse, though of course this does vary from person to person.
No wonder, one of the most popular songs this year has been this by Zeest.
For those who use it a lot, especially students who stay away from home in hostels etc., I guess one of the biggest practical problems faced are to control the "natural flow" when at home , or in front of parents or profs! I know of people who almost can't finish sentences without at least two 'censored' words, and there was a time I grew so used to hearing them from all the guys in my group all the time(of crse among themselves[:P]), that my ears used to miss the sound at times!!!:D Initially, there used to be a time when they didnt know me much and actually used to come up an apologize if by chance uttered an unspeakable word! That apology bit used to be a little embarassing to me, to be frank. But later, everyone got used to it.
Personally, I dont abuse much...hardly actually, and sometimes
I feel so angry at myself, as well as handicaapped, because I feel like venting my anger and frustration out somehow, but cant and dont. It's the case with most girls actually, for very few of them do swear, atleast in public. Speaking for myself, I feel greatly pissed if a girl loudly abuses in HINDI, because curiously enough hindi abuses sound so so so much gross as compared to anything in English. So I cant tolerate atleast girls in Hindi. With guys you can say I've become rather used to it, so it doesnt matter much. I'm pretty comfortable oif the guy is, and if thats hw he speaks. I rather feel uncomfortable when guys speak under the breath and in conscious nudge-nudge-wink-wink camouflaged language, suppressing words just because "there are ladies around!". It's best when ppl are themselves-even girls, and therefore I do not disapprove of anyone speaking their mind out, of crse appropriated to place and time. It's kinda fun calling all men B*****ds in all-girl meetings!
The best option, when it comes to language, if you have the luxury, is to abuse in your "mothertongue"-by which I mean a language that people around do not understand. The person being abused may or may not. Sometimes though, this does irritate the 'audience' in for a juicy audio-visual treat, but I've seen that often the audience too enjoys the addition of a new word to vocabulary.[:P]
Some little facts I was wondering about are these....
1. We often use names of animals as abuses...Isn't "human" sometimes a bigger abuse!
2. why do "females" form so often a part of abusing...as in ur sister..... and ur mother.....why always drag females!
3. Why do some abuses become "chalta hai" after some time of use, irrespective of meaning?
OK, no more Q/A sessions here...just tell me..wat's ur favourite abuse?
And yeah, pls don't give me one now!
Monday, October 24, 2005
A BROAD RIMMED PEAK AT GLAMSVILLE....
If you’re from Mars-no, that’s too close for this planet-if you’re from Jupiter or saturn or somewhere thereabouts, and landed up a few seconds ago on this planet as an 18-something youngster, you’re excused. Otherwise, if you still are an 18-something youngster-rather, dump the 18, if you’re anywhere between 10 and 70 and you are NOT deaf and dumb and blind at the same time- and you haven’t heard of the terms “fashion”, ‘glamour’, ‘style’, ‘trendy’ and ‘cooooool’, and you do not manage to update yourself within 15 minutes about the latest trend in town- you’re a totally useless, outdated, antique (no not antique, even antiques become trendy in some seasons) freak, and you’re well-advised to book your ticket back to Saturn ASAP!!!!
That’s the message that flashed in front of my colour-blinded eyes and humbled mind the last time I visited a few college campuses in Delhi!
I was wondering why Jassi took all the pains of going to Mauritius and spent on expert advice from expert advisors all over the world when our own GenNext here could’ve flooded her with expert tips on the trendiest overnight transformations! The most shocking example I personally witnessed was my “friend”, whom I’d gone to meet in her college. She was so unrecognizable that I almost walked past her, and had I not heard her familiar voice (thank God she still retains that!) call me out, I’d have never got to meet her! All this when she’s the same girl I spent almost every minute of the last two years of my school with! But that’s exactly the point-she wasn’t the ‘same’ friend. Something had transformed the simple, sweet, straight hair-salwar-suit girl (mmm….what was the term she said…yeah…”behenji” type of a girl) into this cooool, aggressive, permed-plus-streaked-hair, torn jeans kinda creature!! (If you ARE from another planet, voila, you might just be reminded of someone back home!!!)
I’d have probably stared at her with dis-belief and a half-open-mouth forever, had I not been distracted by the tinkling bells in the long beaded hair of her friend standing next to her who was trying to (as I realized later) give me a “Hi-fi”. At that moment I guess I was too overcome with emotion to manage anything more than a plain general Hello! Her friend gave me a disgusted snigger and walked away(in a strange kind of walk I later learnt is called ‘moon-walking’) but my friend was quick to explain..
“Oh! Don’t mind him…He’s just….”
“Him!!!!!” I thought that was a……Forget it!
“Gee,,,look at you. Two years and still the same boring hairstyle. And for Heavens’ sake, why do you still wear these huge awful black spectacles!! Get a life, dude! What HAVE you been doing in this college all this time?”
And then I looked around. It wasn’t her who was different-she was just one among a whole population of tattooed “colorful” students around us- it was actually ‘me’ who was different. Yeah, probably I belonged, and do belong, to another world altogether, for wherever I went that day, I was greeted with the kind of stares normally reserved for someone who’d walked in to attend a top-level Board meeting with his bathrobe on!!!!
Never before had I realized that my disinterest in the Page-3 and Fashion segments of the newspaper, in FTV and MTV-style on the TV, my lack of recall for the fashion-designer of everybody-who’s-somebody in bollywood/modeling world, and my disinclination to spend any more than a day on getting dressed up was such a big deal!! You can’t imagine how much I learnt in the two hours- lotsa words, oops lingo, like cooool, hip, happening, yo, etc; that I could actually wear my favourite jeans that I’d sadly kept aside because it got torn; that wearing T-shirts and tops with unequal sleeve lengths(or no sleeves/ spaghetti straps) is happening; that all the redheads and blondes that I saw around weren’t actually redheads and blondes, and so on and so forth!
I was astounded when I did a quick mental estimate of the amount those people must be spending only on cosmetics and tattoos and haircuts and bleaches and clothes and accessories, but thankfully figured out soon enough where the money came from- the students around me carried less than one book per person in their Rs. 899/- only embellished Ebony bags!I had a few more practical queries to shoot, like didn’t their heads and ears and waist hurt with the headbands, huge danglings and ulta tight jeans, but I was quickly labeled a 16th-century-nerd and made to shut up.
And I realized shut up I must, because I suddenly realized that the bug has bitten not just the college going youth, but EVERYONE- be it the aunties who watch other aunties on television who wear full makeup even when they sleep, or the so-called metrosexual men, or the Versace-stuck uncles…
Back now from the enlightening trip, I think I’m gonna book my tickets for Saturn s soon as I finish writing this one. Anybody willing to give me company?
That’s the message that flashed in front of my colour-blinded eyes and humbled mind the last time I visited a few college campuses in Delhi!
I was wondering why Jassi took all the pains of going to Mauritius and spent on expert advice from expert advisors all over the world when our own GenNext here could’ve flooded her with expert tips on the trendiest overnight transformations! The most shocking example I personally witnessed was my “friend”, whom I’d gone to meet in her college. She was so unrecognizable that I almost walked past her, and had I not heard her familiar voice (thank God she still retains that!) call me out, I’d have never got to meet her! All this when she’s the same girl I spent almost every minute of the last two years of my school with! But that’s exactly the point-she wasn’t the ‘same’ friend. Something had transformed the simple, sweet, straight hair-salwar-suit girl (mmm….what was the term she said…yeah…”behenji” type of a girl) into this cooool, aggressive, permed-plus-streaked-hair, torn jeans kinda creature!! (If you ARE from another planet, voila, you might just be reminded of someone back home!!!)
I’d have probably stared at her with dis-belief and a half-open-mouth forever, had I not been distracted by the tinkling bells in the long beaded hair of her friend standing next to her who was trying to (as I realized later) give me a “Hi-fi”. At that moment I guess I was too overcome with emotion to manage anything more than a plain general Hello! Her friend gave me a disgusted snigger and walked away(in a strange kind of walk I later learnt is called ‘moon-walking’) but my friend was quick to explain..
“Oh! Don’t mind him…He’s just….”
“Him!!!!!” I thought that was a……Forget it!
“Gee,,,look at you. Two years and still the same boring hairstyle. And for Heavens’ sake, why do you still wear these huge awful black spectacles!! Get a life, dude! What HAVE you been doing in this college all this time?”
And then I looked around. It wasn’t her who was different-she was just one among a whole population of tattooed “colorful” students around us- it was actually ‘me’ who was different. Yeah, probably I belonged, and do belong, to another world altogether, for wherever I went that day, I was greeted with the kind of stares normally reserved for someone who’d walked in to attend a top-level Board meeting with his bathrobe on!!!!
Never before had I realized that my disinterest in the Page-3 and Fashion segments of the newspaper, in FTV and MTV-style on the TV, my lack of recall for the fashion-designer of everybody-who’s-somebody in bollywood/modeling world, and my disinclination to spend any more than a day on getting dressed up was such a big deal!! You can’t imagine how much I learnt in the two hours- lotsa words, oops lingo, like cooool, hip, happening, yo, etc; that I could actually wear my favourite jeans that I’d sadly kept aside because it got torn; that wearing T-shirts and tops with unequal sleeve lengths(or no sleeves/ spaghetti straps) is happening; that all the redheads and blondes that I saw around weren’t actually redheads and blondes, and so on and so forth!
I was astounded when I did a quick mental estimate of the amount those people must be spending only on cosmetics and tattoos and haircuts and bleaches and clothes and accessories, but thankfully figured out soon enough where the money came from- the students around me carried less than one book per person in their Rs. 899/- only embellished Ebony bags!I had a few more practical queries to shoot, like didn’t their heads and ears and waist hurt with the headbands, huge danglings and ulta tight jeans, but I was quickly labeled a 16th-century-nerd and made to shut up.
And I realized shut up I must, because I suddenly realized that the bug has bitten not just the college going youth, but EVERYONE- be it the aunties who watch other aunties on television who wear full makeup even when they sleep, or the so-called metrosexual men, or the Versace-stuck uncles…
Back now from the enlightening trip, I think I’m gonna book my tickets for Saturn s soon as I finish writing this one. Anybody willing to give me company?
Sunday, October 23, 2005
I got company!
There are some times that are dark, really really dark. There are some stories that are dark too. This is one. And I'm writing it because I wanna put it on record that I've been stupid. But also, that I wasn't myself-perhaps. It's past now, but some moments are really scary, especially from hindsight. It's like going to the verge, to the extreme boundary; it's like pushing the limit. I like the term "strain hardening". Though I had learnt it as a part of my technical education, I like interpreting it my way. Pain makes us tougher, stress increases stamina, and difficult times help us cope up better with life. No, this is not a story of pain. Pain isn't a tangible thing to most of us. To those who it is, it is too obvious, too omnipresence, too omnipotent, and so much of a "forever there" thing, that it doesn't matter.
Read this.
You don't write about obvious things-part of the routine- do you?I don't. I don't write about glass bottles breaking all the time; I don't write of obscure chemicals in the lab;I don't write of stainless steel and how it's strong and corrosion-free and ductile so that you can make so many day-to-day objects like blades and knives out of it; I don't write of trivial things like water and ropes; I don't write of the heights and depths. They're trivial to me, inconsequential. I write only about the moment; I write about the last wish; I write about the happy histories and the sad past; I write about the unsaid and the unheard; write of the unspoken facts, of the dying angels and of the heartbreakers; I write about myself. Yes, that's it. I'm a narcissist. One day I'll die because I'll fall in love with my own reflection in water and die from the frustration of incompletion-just like the Greek legend. But it will be far that day. Death is my bride. It's awfully sexy. I feel excited. But I must be patient. Because I have too much to do before that day comes. And more importantly, I'm not that lucky.
I'm sorry, for being hasty. I'm sorry for doing what I did. I'm sorry for hurting when I shouldn't. I'm sorry for being deceptive, and not being deceptive too. I'm sorry for being funny.
But you know what, I'm not really sorry. I'm too vain to do that. I'm just making things up, trying to befool whoever sits up there. Please be befooled. I know I'm gonna do that again.
I know you won't believe me. Nobody does.
I know you won't believe me. Nobody does.
But there has to be a way out. It's about just a little time. And then, there'll be the ultimate completion. The end, or the attainment. One day. And no, now's not right. I'll consummate my love, but not now. It's not adequately hideous.
.............An extract from somewhere........the diary of someone who almost decided to commit suicde and didn't, 21 times, and then thought death hated her. Then suddenly she fell in love with someone. Her life became good and happy. The day before their marriage, she was killed in a road accident.
As far as I know, it's a true story. Her diary has been published after his death, haven't been able to locate much content, but it's said to be scary. I love psychotic people. I read this one and a bit more and found that life is so complicated, so funny, changes so much, scares so much. Hits THE low, comes back till you get a high, and then everything disappears from under the feet. I'll try and glue the sole of my shoes now. I'm scared. :D
P.S. If you found it too vague, sorry, I guess it is, but i found something there so posted it when i saw it.
If you are reading too much into it, CHILL.
I'm reminded of the Exorcist now. That movie has never managed to scare me. Obviously, no other horror movie has, either. This is close. I'm excited.
Read this after my Death...
(An old one...Dug it out from a personal diary)
"Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am in the thousand winds that blow.
i am in the diamond glint of snow.
I am in the smile upon your face.
I am in the happiness you embrace.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die!"
"Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am in the thousand winds that blow.
i am in the diamond glint of snow.
I am in the smile upon your face.
I am in the happiness you embrace.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die!"
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Other than the Half-Truths...
Perhaps nothing's sweeter than the sleep a few mins before one has to wake up...
Somehow, it's much easier to wake up bang in the middle of the night/morning, say around 4, when one has been sleeping for a few hours, and then suddenly, one wakes up-fully alert- for no apparent reason at all. And then, it becomes so painfully difficult to go back to sleep. So for hours one lies in the darkness, thinking rubbish, waiting for sleep to arrive, fully possessing the agonising knowledge that the same missing sleep is sure to refuse to leave you a few hours later when you HAVE to get up! :(
Anyway, there's only one thing I like about these "breaks"....One gets time to think on what one likes!
Though sadly, the few of the consequences of those thought processes and sleeplessness that I did put on this blog in recent times have led to me being labelled over-excited, pervert, and so so many things..(Click the title for example!) But, chalta hai! I'll write whatever I feel like, but yeah, nothing's gone really wrong or abnormal with me puh-leeease..
But I'm what I'm...so even if nobody can figure that out, that remains the truth...actually, only half the truth! I was just wondering, thanx to Vibhor (who I guess has become a pro at food-for-thought-exchanges!!), a conversation with whom prompted me into the "thought mood", that aren't MOST things we believe to be true, are actually half-truths...because, a lot many times, something is always missing. What I mean is, is "truth" a function of perspective? And before I get to my favourite theory of "Everything is relative", this aspect of "perspectives" and the hidden halves of truths intrigue me. Like in the previous post, the fact that bothers u most as a reader is what the half-truth was(and everyone neglected the PAIN in the post...god! Sex sells!!:D ) Life is a half-truth...even lies are semi-true, for sake of the moment and the purpose, they're true...
It's a grey world...blacks and whites scare me now. And what's amazing is we all know this, but inspite of that we often conveniently label PEOPLE as black or white, and equally conveniently develop our "truths" about them...only half the truths.
We look at an individual, and no wonder how much we get to know him, most of the times, it's only half the truth. We look at a house, and it speaks something to us, but it conceals more. We read books, watch movies, and absorb some of it as the creator wants, and some of it as we interprete, but does that define the ultimate of art. Ok I've spoken enough crap, but in the end, EVERYTHING to me is suddenly appearing as one thing- only half a truth, at max.
THE CONCEPT OF TRUTH IS A FARCE!
THE CONCEPT OF TRUTH IS A FARCE!
Ok, and before people crucify me for a serious shit post again which nobody can understand, here's more food for thought ...
# Days and nights, that literally define and decide existence for us, are transient and temporary, and differ at different places even at the same time. They're not the truth.
# Desire is but a manifestation of our stubbornness, or ego. We never know what we REALLY want, but still pursue desires all our life..setting our own parameters, our own truths. They're not truths.
# Everyone holds, forms and 'suffers' from opinions. They dictate lives to huge extents, but thet're not truths.
# Relationships, emotions, the "forever" feelings-love, friendship, repect etc- none of these are permanent. They continuously change and evolve in meaning and character. Emotions often become antagonistic to themselves. They're the pillars of our lives, but not truths.
# If you're reading this line, you might have read everything above this. but if you claim yes, just ask yourself, is that THE TRUTH?
Having said that, I'm NOT saying that all this is a plain lie...it's just incomplete, it's just, half the truth!
Life is a battlefield of half-truths!
# Days and nights, that literally define and decide existence for us, are transient and temporary, and differ at different places even at the same time. They're not the truth.
# Desire is but a manifestation of our stubbornness, or ego. We never know what we REALLY want, but still pursue desires all our life..setting our own parameters, our own truths. They're not truths.
# Everyone holds, forms and 'suffers' from opinions. They dictate lives to huge extents, but thet're not truths.
# Relationships, emotions, the "forever" feelings-love, friendship, repect etc- none of these are permanent. They continuously change and evolve in meaning and character. Emotions often become antagonistic to themselves. They're the pillars of our lives, but not truths.
# If you're reading this line, you might have read everything above this. but if you claim yes, just ask yourself, is that THE TRUTH?
Having said that, I'm NOT saying that all this is a plain lie...it's just incomplete, it's just, half the truth!
Life is a battlefield of half-truths!
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
HALF-TRUTH
The bed-sheets are crumpled. The pillows are still wet with passion. His distinctive odour pervades in the room. The door is shut, the curtains are drawn, but currently they do not conceal anything. Because there is nothing.
Emptiness.
But, that's only half the truth.
The night mocks at me from outside the window. The lone flickering candle mocks at me from inside. I lay on the floor, unclothed, by the bedside, in waiting; the bed, the clothes, the aroma in the sheets- they all itch against my skin. Every inch of my existence feels incomplete. Shadows from yesterday fall upon my abandoned body. I hate their touch; I blow the candle away.
Darkness.
Everywhere.
The 3 a.m. breeze whistles past the house. It is slightly chilly outside; I am very cold.
It is a silent, serene, peaceful night.
But that's only half the truth.
Emptiness.
But, that's only half the truth.
The night mocks at me from outside the window. The lone flickering candle mocks at me from inside. I lay on the floor, unclothed, by the bedside, in waiting; the bed, the clothes, the aroma in the sheets- they all itch against my skin. Every inch of my existence feels incomplete. Shadows from yesterday fall upon my abandoned body. I hate their touch; I blow the candle away.
Darkness.
Everywhere.
The 3 a.m. breeze whistles past the house. It is slightly chilly outside; I am very cold.
It is a silent, serene, peaceful night.
But that's only half the truth.
Monday, October 17, 2005
STRAPPED!
NOTE: The LoveGuru slot L lecture has been discontinued for some time. Here's presenting something differemt in lieu of that!:D
Straps are so inconvenient. They probably have managed to survive so long only because strappy dresses are oh-so-much sexier than the rest!
"Less is more" is fashion's prime diktat, and straps seem to serve that objective well. Sometimes, they facilitatae an exhibition of the best while providing still the much needed life-saving support to the crucial apparel that hangs below, hiding what must be hidden! Occassionally then, they hit headlines if that apparel happens to be a skimpy blouse of a dumb diva ornamenting the gentleman's game.
Mostly however, they are buried behind layers of clothes and modesty and therefore, until one strips, they remain stripped of any glamour!
But still, they continue to cling tightly to the body, pulling at it at several places and hurting the delicate and supple skin, and sometimes even gifting it with cruel red rashes. They're fine when they tie around the body visibly-the sensuous feel can make one fall in love even with the self- but barring the security aspect, there is no reason why a strapless off-shoulder or backless version of the attire is not way better!!!
But MOST of all, straps are inconvenient-rather LOATHABLE- in delicate moments like these. Moments when the world has shrunk to the half a millimetre between the neck and the caressing lips, the entangled hair and the stroking hands, between the sighs and the deep breath, between two hearts beating faster than the speed of the light which struggles to percolate between the two hands whose fingers have lost in each other. The lips gently touch, wet, caress the back of the earlobe and slowly move downwards. The body beneath convulses with pleasure in tandem with the sensuousness of touch. The drama is heightening. The kissing pair reaches the shoulder, threatening to plunge to greater depths anytime. The movement is slow but steady; the clothing yields too. but then, something obstructs the smooth path of eternity-the flow breaks, the harmony stutters. The lips separate from the body.
Aarrrrrggghhhhhh!!! the strap.............
Straps are so inconvenient. They probably have managed to survive so long only because strappy dresses are oh-so-much sexier than the rest!
"Less is more" is fashion's prime diktat, and straps seem to serve that objective well. Sometimes, they facilitatae an exhibition of the best while providing still the much needed life-saving support to the crucial apparel that hangs below, hiding what must be hidden! Occassionally then, they hit headlines if that apparel happens to be a skimpy blouse of a dumb diva ornamenting the gentleman's game.
Mostly however, they are buried behind layers of clothes and modesty and therefore, until one strips, they remain stripped of any glamour!
But still, they continue to cling tightly to the body, pulling at it at several places and hurting the delicate and supple skin, and sometimes even gifting it with cruel red rashes. They're fine when they tie around the body visibly-the sensuous feel can make one fall in love even with the self- but barring the security aspect, there is no reason why a strapless off-shoulder or backless version of the attire is not way better!!!
But MOST of all, straps are inconvenient-rather LOATHABLE- in delicate moments like these. Moments when the world has shrunk to the half a millimetre between the neck and the caressing lips, the entangled hair and the stroking hands, between the sighs and the deep breath, between two hearts beating faster than the speed of the light which struggles to percolate between the two hands whose fingers have lost in each other. The lips gently touch, wet, caress the back of the earlobe and slowly move downwards. The body beneath convulses with pleasure in tandem with the sensuousness of touch. The drama is heightening. The kissing pair reaches the shoulder, threatening to plunge to greater depths anytime. The movement is slow but steady; the clothing yields too. but then, something obstructs the smooth path of eternity-the flow breaks, the harmony stutters. The lips separate from the body.
Aarrrrrggghhhhhh!!! the strap.............
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