For me..

I decided at some point that i wouldn't put anything about myself in here... It all goes back to the first blog feeling about why would anyone write down their thoughts for the world to read and judge.. But somedays you couldn't care less. What does it matter if what I have to say is interesting or whether someone liked it or not.. There's a billion things we do everyday so that its the right thing and what is expected of you.. Basically I just want to rant today.. I woke up with swollen eyes and a stuffy nose from my sinuses acting up overnight... I decided to lie around in bed for a while and read this novel i got .. Its 'Lucia, Lucia' and I don't know if the author is famous or whether the book is famous.. I just found it and am happy that I've got something to read.. Anyway.. so early in the morning, I read that Lucia's newly born two week old baby neice dies... And I'm not generally carried away by things that happen in novels.. But still it got me thinking about how and why things like that happen.. Whats the need for a woman to carry a baby for nine months and go through all that.. For the family that surrounds her to be expecting the baby, for everybody to look forward to something so much that they love it even before its born.. and then have it die in two weeks? I guess it happens all around the world.. And if I start listing out events there are more than enough calamities and unfairness all over for me to get worked up and depressed about.. And I don't know if thats what went wrong.. I put the book down, had breakfast, bathed, got ready, watered the plants and came off thinking that something is wrong.. Something's bogging me down.. and I can't stop thinking that something is wrong but i dont' know what it is.. And its still like that.. Something is wrong.. or its going to go wrong.. I know.. and I hate feeling like this...

Romance?

Girl: Why can't you be romantic?
Guy: What do you want me to do?
[very short pause]
Girl: Forget it.. You ruined it already.. Why do i bother asking!
Guy: Ok.. tell me what you mean by 'romance'..
Girl: Its about doing something beautiful for someone without being motivated by sex.
Guy: You mean I have a romantic relationship with my mom?
Girl: Aaaaaaaaaaaargh! bye.
..
Later on 'Girl' goes to google, answers.com, webster's and wikipedia..


P.S: Decided NOT to send him a link to this

To be.. or not (hopefully)

His 'true calling' in life.. changes every month..

He wants to be:

. Sachin Tendulkar's secretary
. A commercial pilot
. A restaurant owner with well endowed waitresses
. A scuba diving instructor
. An actor
. A movie producer/director (what kind.. i'm not sure)
. A professor giving lectures on narcotics
. Rich enough to own a Mercedes McLaren SLR
. A travel journalist
. A sports car driver
. A rapper
. An arms trader

. Married to her (she hopes)

An SMS

Life without love ... is like a boob without a nipple..


Pointless.


(Yeah it made me smile and yeah i was bored brain dead)

Closed...

I wish I were a shop.. with those big metal shutters...
I'd pull down the shutters, put a big brass lock on it and hang a sign that says 'CLOSED'.
And I'd stay inside shut out from everything.
I wouldn't have to deal with anything.
Not even myself.

She's changing..

She thinks I haven't noticed...
The newly bought pumice stone.. The daily 'foot scrub'...
Finishing off the bottle of moisturizer on her feet..
The new anklet .. and her toes painted silver...
Right after I told her I've seen him judge women by their feet..

And she thinks I haven't noticed.. :)

Objects in the mirror

Are closer than they appear....

Ego..

I will not call him.

Just remembered..

I don't know how this came to me today.. or why.. I was on my way to work.. and I remembered this happening a long time back.. I think I was in first grade then.. and I think the class was Social Studies or something of the sort.. We were learning either about Family or Professions.. or something.. Can't remember.. But there was this part where I had to write down my Dad's profession.. and I didn't know what that was.. He was working for Schindler Elevators then, and I remember him telling me that Elevators were the same as 'Lifts' .. like the one in our building.. And I don't know how I came up with the term 'Lift Operator'.. I felt really proud of my Dad for being someone so cool, and of myself for having come up with such a cool profession amongst all the Doctors and Engineers and Bank Managers.. My teacher raised her eyebrows when she saw what I'd written.. smiled and asked me if I was sure.. I nodded .... and when my turn came to read it aloud in class.. I don't think it made an impact on anybody.. except I think the teacher.. and yes... my mom when I got home.. I think she was struck .. she probably imagined my Dad wearing a red coat with two parallel rows of round silver buttons and a cap and standing in a corner of a lift asking people which floor they'd like to go to... She told me Daddy wasn't a Lift operator.. and to my disappointment erased it and made me write 'Engineer'.. which, I consoled myself, was something like a Train operator...

Crush...

He had a beard and I'd seen him twice... I don't remember if I heard people talk about him, but I have a feeling I did. There was no other way for me to form an impression about someone I had seen twice. He's the sort of guy who probably writes well...Listens to music I've never heard of, or will ever understand.. done drugs, probably still does... sketches, draws or paints in abstract ways he doesn't care to explain.. Probably cooks.. Not sure he bathes very often .. Must've had plenty of affairs with like minded unconventional women.. He could be gay.. But I like to think that he isn't... Doubt he believes in marriage.... Surely likes photography.. probably black and white.. Can't imagine him in formals.. Must be the sort that loves to travel.. Doesn't care too much about money... Probably gives the nicest gifts for special people.. Probably likes dogs.. maybe cats too..