Monday, November 28, 2005
9:33:01 PM
Is it so bad that I fool around so much…may be bug a little…or even accidentally throw away in the process of taking away somebody’s much protected, longed, last chunk of chocolate bar??? Would the world be happier if I turned sane overnight? I would rather be sane than see my insanity ruined by extremely misjudged thoughts and words. What can I do if I can’t behave like all girls do (i.e. never bother anyone…rehearse calculated, controlled, beautiful smiles and perform just that in front of others…never act like a clown) and can’t think twice before asking something from somebody? Would everybody find peace if I never say ‘hi’ to Jerry?
Then so be it…it’s just that I would find myself immersed in so much boredom, that no amount of stimulation would compensate…but then:
Let the world never see me blabbering any non-sense ever again. Hey, will that make me pleasant and great to be simply tolerated? Ooh, am I curious to see myself with an altered self! So, let them be undisturbed until it is time for me to absolutely have nothing to do with anybody whatsoever…
Mute…
Amen…
Monday, November 28, 2005
RETROSPECT
Friday, November 25, 2005
8:20:16 PM
This is the best time of the year. The college is almost empty, with four people sitting at the left corner, one loner at the back and a twosome (guys!) in front, of Arunda’s canteen. I am sitting at the center round table. Fortunately the radio is playing the ‘FRIENDS’ title song in some sensible FM station. Classes are called off, what a relief and I’ve still some time to live with myself until my classmates show up.
More people are coming in right now…The first to enter was our foolish third-yearian, who grabs at every opportunity to demonstrate his classical singing skills. The last one to enter till now was Mr. Peter Pan, for once, without any girl along with him. Lots of schoolboys have filed in.
They don’t remind me anything of my schooldays. I had a rather bleak, restricted school-life. I had nothing much to do other than falling in love. No, come on, it wasn’t that bad: I had my two best friends with whom I always hung around…We threesome always intimidated the teachers in some way. They made every effort to separate us by putting us in different sections, but that didn’t stop us from teaming up during the break or pass cryptic messages across the classrooms. We skated through trouble almost every other day. We were famous for the terror we caused by jumping on the sofa placed inside the Principal’s room, stealing school supplies from there and of course, we have photographic evidence of taking out facial tissues in style from the tissue box on the Principal’s desk…I remember making frivolous phone calls from the Principal’s office itself. Stealing Jules Verne’s “Journey To The Center Of The Earth” from the library was just as easy.
I feel proud to say that I never returned “Space Stories” from the Russian Cultural Center library. It had accounts from the diary of Pavel Popovich, Yuri Gagarin and other astronauts.
Anyway, let’s get back to my school-life again. Smoking in the teachers’ staff room…aah, a fairly good act of juvenile bravado. And guess who accompanied me? Fatty, of course… We have been subject to the effects of mutual Michelangelo phenomenon and now she is more like me and I am more like her. We sculpted each other’s symbolic self-awareness. Hey man, are you reading this??? Man, I miss our lovely times together… The times we blurted out the same thing, in the same tone, at identical timings…the times we delivered dialogues from movies and serials…Due South…remember, Fatty???
“I owe him”
“You owe nobody. He’s gonna get u killed”
Man, I forgot half the dialogues…most of them actually…
“In the name of the Royal Canadian…..(shot guns fired)”
“I don’t think he heard you”
Man, I forgot the most famous dialogues of them all…what was it???? Dammit! Damn the memory!
“There are strange things done
In the midnight sun
By the men, who toil for gold”
“Moil Ray, not toil”
“Aah, moil toil who cares?”
“Robert (something), apparently”
“Who’s he?”
“The poet”
Feels good to remember them all back again. Damn man, sign up in here so you can leave comments, so we can finally TALK! Like the old times…
8:20:16 PM
This is the best time of the year. The college is almost empty, with four people sitting at the left corner, one loner at the back and a twosome (guys!) in front, of Arunda’s canteen. I am sitting at the center round table. Fortunately the radio is playing the ‘FRIENDS’ title song in some sensible FM station. Classes are called off, what a relief and I’ve still some time to live with myself until my classmates show up.
More people are coming in right now…The first to enter was our foolish third-yearian, who grabs at every opportunity to demonstrate his classical singing skills. The last one to enter till now was Mr. Peter Pan, for once, without any girl along with him. Lots of schoolboys have filed in.
They don’t remind me anything of my schooldays. I had a rather bleak, restricted school-life. I had nothing much to do other than falling in love. No, come on, it wasn’t that bad: I had my two best friends with whom I always hung around…We threesome always intimidated the teachers in some way. They made every effort to separate us by putting us in different sections, but that didn’t stop us from teaming up during the break or pass cryptic messages across the classrooms. We skated through trouble almost every other day. We were famous for the terror we caused by jumping on the sofa placed inside the Principal’s room, stealing school supplies from there and of course, we have photographic evidence of taking out facial tissues in style from the tissue box on the Principal’s desk…I remember making frivolous phone calls from the Principal’s office itself. Stealing Jules Verne’s “Journey To The Center Of The Earth” from the library was just as easy.
I feel proud to say that I never returned “Space Stories” from the Russian Cultural Center library. It had accounts from the diary of Pavel Popovich, Yuri Gagarin and other astronauts.
Anyway, let’s get back to my school-life again. Smoking in the teachers’ staff room…aah, a fairly good act of juvenile bravado. And guess who accompanied me? Fatty, of course… We have been subject to the effects of mutual Michelangelo phenomenon and now she is more like me and I am more like her. We sculpted each other’s symbolic self-awareness. Hey man, are you reading this??? Man, I miss our lovely times together… The times we blurted out the same thing, in the same tone, at identical timings…the times we delivered dialogues from movies and serials…Due South…remember, Fatty???
“I owe him”
“You owe nobody. He’s gonna get u killed”
Man, I forgot half the dialogues…most of them actually…
“In the name of the Royal Canadian…..(shot guns fired)”
“I don’t think he heard you”
Man, I forgot the most famous dialogues of them all…what was it???? Dammit! Damn the memory!
“There are strange things done
In the midnight sun
By the men, who toil for gold”
“Moil Ray, not toil”
“Aah, moil toil who cares?”
“Robert (something), apparently”
“Who’s he?”
“The poet”
Feels good to remember them all back again. Damn man, sign up in here so you can leave comments, so we can finally TALK! Like the old times…
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
CALLING HELL
Monday, November 21, 2005
7:55:32 PM
Why am I doing this to myself? Why? Making a fool out of myself, dammit. I shouldn’t have sung the song, really, when I don’t stand a chance…Anyway, what’s over is over. It’s always fine to look forward: the perfect mantra of this Aquarian Age.
Something threatening has come up. Was the dream I had about Mars a premonition of this threat? Mars in Aries stands for everything drastic, like as in travel and change…Anyway, I am not surprised. Disappointed, yes. But not surprised. I am seasoned over the years.
I am a really bad singer. I can sketch just okay, I guess. I can’t play the guitar, piano, cello, drums etc. I remember being good at mouth organ, but I lost it. It was a long maroon-red one. I know where it is, but access denied.
Oh yes, I never knew the spelling of planchette until today (although I don’t know why the MS spell check is still making a red underline underneath the apparently right spelling…u wouldn’t notice that in this blog…since I am typing in Word and guess what, the spell check has also put a red underline under the word ‘blog’!). Something’s wrong with my pc, really, files are getting corrupted out of the blue. Some virus maybe, even AVG couldn’t detect. It’s fine now, though a while ago weird things were happening. I guess my pc goes berserk once in a while just like me. I am still high on the Cosmic Plane. Don’t know what the hell that means…
I might lose my place again…and I am numb about it, cos there’s nothing left to do. I don’t want to end up in Malaysia please, although I know it’s a nice place. Canada is even better. But what the hell…I always wanted to study abroad. Always. Still do. But what the hell…
I never knew I was so weak at heart. Very close friends of mine revere me as being strong, intelligent, artistic, witty, tubelight, stupid and vulnerable, all at the same time. Hell knows what that means…
7:55:32 PM
Why am I doing this to myself? Why? Making a fool out of myself, dammit. I shouldn’t have sung the song, really, when I don’t stand a chance…Anyway, what’s over is over. It’s always fine to look forward: the perfect mantra of this Aquarian Age.
Something threatening has come up. Was the dream I had about Mars a premonition of this threat? Mars in Aries stands for everything drastic, like as in travel and change…Anyway, I am not surprised. Disappointed, yes. But not surprised. I am seasoned over the years.
I am a really bad singer. I can sketch just okay, I guess. I can’t play the guitar, piano, cello, drums etc. I remember being good at mouth organ, but I lost it. It was a long maroon-red one. I know where it is, but access denied.
Oh yes, I never knew the spelling of planchette until today (although I don’t know why the MS spell check is still making a red underline underneath the apparently right spelling…u wouldn’t notice that in this blog…since I am typing in Word and guess what, the spell check has also put a red underline under the word ‘blog’!). Something’s wrong with my pc, really, files are getting corrupted out of the blue. Some virus maybe, even AVG couldn’t detect. It’s fine now, though a while ago weird things were happening. I guess my pc goes berserk once in a while just like me. I am still high on the Cosmic Plane. Don’t know what the hell that means…
I might lose my place again…and I am numb about it, cos there’s nothing left to do. I don’t want to end up in Malaysia please, although I know it’s a nice place. Canada is even better. But what the hell…I always wanted to study abroad. Always. Still do. But what the hell…
I never knew I was so weak at heart. Very close friends of mine revere me as being strong, intelligent, artistic, witty, tubelight, stupid and vulnerable, all at the same time. Hell knows what that means…
SLEEPING PILL
Monday, November 21, 20051:36:22 AM
I wrote this poem months back…last year, if I recall correctly:
She couldn’t hear anything
When words kept blowing
Looking up, far at Orion
And the signs of neon
Hearing nothing but the wind,
Perhaps the calling.
“Was it a calling?”, she wondered.
After all, her hiking hindered.
Then the road led nowhere,
Back and forth somewhere,
In-between the mud and snow.
All but stopped,
Her compass dropped,
And she broke into a laughter.
I named it Exodus. Strong name for an otherwise naïve non-poem, I must say.
I wrote this poem months back…last year, if I recall correctly:
She couldn’t hear anything
When words kept blowing
Looking up, far at Orion
And the signs of neon
Hearing nothing but the wind,
Perhaps the calling.
“Was it a calling?”, she wondered.
After all, her hiking hindered.
Then the road led nowhere,
Back and forth somewhere,
In-between the mud and snow.
All but stopped,
Her compass dropped,
And she broke into a laughter.
I named it Exodus. Strong name for an otherwise naïve non-poem, I must say.
BLACK AND WHITE
Saturday, November 19, 2005
9:40:16 PM
I am high on the Cosmic Plane. Hell knows what that means. But it surely means something or the other. It had been a busy week: zero studying, assessing human behavior, watching movies in the Film Festival and all that. I am finally reading Harry Potter, I don’t even believe myself. It turned out to be a lot better than I apprehended. Don’t know why I am not being able to read it faster. Maybe I am just plain lazy.
Something just came up my mind. The whole idea of black and white seems all very clear to me. From years of preconceived notion that black stands for the dark, which is related to mourning, fear, death and the like, we have it deeply rooted in our memory that Black is anything negative, bad and mournful. White, on the contrary, is preconceived to be the color of peace, tranquility, and life. Is it exactly why we are all so prejudiced? Is it exactly why the Whites think they are superior to the Blacks? I have a sneaky feeling that it’s exactly so. In many cultures, black clothes are worn to mourn for the dead. The Spades cards are considered to be unlucky to cut in fortune reading.
What would happen in a society, which firmly grew up on the idea that black is the color of dignity, knowledge, wisdom, aristocracy and the sorts? Whites would be first taken as slaves and eventually, when the Human Rights commission would form, the whites would still be considered as inferior. Biologically speaking, the color of our skin is only a variation, and to be honest, black people are less prone to skin cancer due to natural resistance conferred by melanin.
If people were grown in a society where we considered Mongoloid features and broad lips as a sign of beauty, perfection and attractiveness, then beautiful men and women like Jude Law, Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts and George Clooney would be considered utterly ugly.
I love to be in the dark. Too much sunlight makes me irritated and uncomfortable. Does that mean I am drawn to the evil, dark forces of Nature? And what does it mean anyway to be drawn to these so-called dark forces???
9:40:16 PM
I am high on the Cosmic Plane. Hell knows what that means. But it surely means something or the other. It had been a busy week: zero studying, assessing human behavior, watching movies in the Film Festival and all that. I am finally reading Harry Potter, I don’t even believe myself. It turned out to be a lot better than I apprehended. Don’t know why I am not being able to read it faster. Maybe I am just plain lazy.
Something just came up my mind. The whole idea of black and white seems all very clear to me. From years of preconceived notion that black stands for the dark, which is related to mourning, fear, death and the like, we have it deeply rooted in our memory that Black is anything negative, bad and mournful. White, on the contrary, is preconceived to be the color of peace, tranquility, and life. Is it exactly why we are all so prejudiced? Is it exactly why the Whites think they are superior to the Blacks? I have a sneaky feeling that it’s exactly so. In many cultures, black clothes are worn to mourn for the dead. The Spades cards are considered to be unlucky to cut in fortune reading.
What would happen in a society, which firmly grew up on the idea that black is the color of dignity, knowledge, wisdom, aristocracy and the sorts? Whites would be first taken as slaves and eventually, when the Human Rights commission would form, the whites would still be considered as inferior. Biologically speaking, the color of our skin is only a variation, and to be honest, black people are less prone to skin cancer due to natural resistance conferred by melanin.
If people were grown in a society where we considered Mongoloid features and broad lips as a sign of beauty, perfection and attractiveness, then beautiful men and women like Jude Law, Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts and George Clooney would be considered utterly ugly.
I love to be in the dark. Too much sunlight makes me irritated and uncomfortable. Does that mean I am drawn to the evil, dark forces of Nature? And what does it mean anyway to be drawn to these so-called dark forces???
LABORATORY BLUES
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
11:31:11 PM
I did not attend physics practical class today. Although the real reason was that I had to go somewhere to collect some documents and also because my lab partner was absent today, but I like to put forward some outrageous reasons as well. First, the staff in the Physics lab is corrupted. Have you ever heard of such a thing as apparatus-involving corruption? That is exactly what we encounter here. If you break a beaker of Rs 5, you will be charged Rs. 100. That’s 20 times the actual price! These people should join the Government.
How can they still work with such ancient apparatus, I still don’t understand. I don’t think anybody will gain any practical knowledge here, because nobody looks forward to this class, far less get enlightened by it. If they think I should be content using such ancient apparatus, they must be aware of the fact that I am not Lara Croft and I don’t like working with ancient dials (hell knows why they insist that those are galvanometers) when it comes to Physics lab class. Nobody ever complains… Not even the students…very strange… Why don’t they just settle inside caves like our nomadic forefathers used to do? And guess what, you don’t have to bother about clothes too: Flintstone-style barks would do and I am sure some of the girls in this college can do without them as well (no offence to vagabonds, their idea of not wearing any clothes is completely different from what I write here).
And oh, I almost forgot to mention… The lab itself. Aah, what great architecture and maintenance: a natural spring flows out of certain parts of the ceiling healing us Myth Units of Greek origin and Norsemen as well. The spring and the gong-like sound of the Sonometer create a perfect symphony and enhance concentration of students working in the lab.
So, what do you put on the front cover? “Back to the ancient caves, dials and the barks” I guess…
This is surely becoming a pretty mournful, scornful, rebellious blog… so much so that it is dangling at the brink of getting entirely boring… and stop I must… until I actually think of something good to write about.
11:31:11 PM
I did not attend physics practical class today. Although the real reason was that I had to go somewhere to collect some documents and also because my lab partner was absent today, but I like to put forward some outrageous reasons as well. First, the staff in the Physics lab is corrupted. Have you ever heard of such a thing as apparatus-involving corruption? That is exactly what we encounter here. If you break a beaker of Rs 5, you will be charged Rs. 100. That’s 20 times the actual price! These people should join the Government.
How can they still work with such ancient apparatus, I still don’t understand. I don’t think anybody will gain any practical knowledge here, because nobody looks forward to this class, far less get enlightened by it. If they think I should be content using such ancient apparatus, they must be aware of the fact that I am not Lara Croft and I don’t like working with ancient dials (hell knows why they insist that those are galvanometers) when it comes to Physics lab class. Nobody ever complains… Not even the students…very strange… Why don’t they just settle inside caves like our nomadic forefathers used to do? And guess what, you don’t have to bother about clothes too: Flintstone-style barks would do and I am sure some of the girls in this college can do without them as well (no offence to vagabonds, their idea of not wearing any clothes is completely different from what I write here).
And oh, I almost forgot to mention… The lab itself. Aah, what great architecture and maintenance: a natural spring flows out of certain parts of the ceiling healing us Myth Units of Greek origin and Norsemen as well. The spring and the gong-like sound of the Sonometer create a perfect symphony and enhance concentration of students working in the lab.
So, what do you put on the front cover? “Back to the ancient caves, dials and the barks” I guess…
This is surely becoming a pretty mournful, scornful, rebellious blog… so much so that it is dangling at the brink of getting entirely boring… and stop I must… until I actually think of something good to write about.
DREAMING, AS USUAL
Saturday, October 29, 2005
8:38:22 PM
I woke up from a weird dream in the morning today…I saw a great scientist of our country confronting my father. When my father started defending himself, I shouted back at him, “You are not a man of science! So don’t dare speak up…All you do is stupid calculations of commerce…plus and minus…. And now you don’t even do that, all you do is sign… You are not a man of science!”
Then I saw myself leaving the scene and climbing up a stair with a little difficulty cos’ the stairs were too narrow and the steps were too high. When I climbed up, I saw a friend of mine (Deep Blue Sea) wearing a maroon full-shirt and off-white trousers.
I came down, cos somebody asked me to come down… When I got down, I found my aunt and my mom conspiring with my father…As soon as they saw me, they put an end to their hush-hush conversation and giggled away at me…I was mad at all of them, and was pretty disgusted by the steel-box my father was opening where he kept his betel-leaf and betel-nuts…I don’t remember anything else after that…I probably woke up just after that…
8:38:22 PM
I woke up from a weird dream in the morning today…I saw a great scientist of our country confronting my father. When my father started defending himself, I shouted back at him, “You are not a man of science! So don’t dare speak up…All you do is stupid calculations of commerce…plus and minus…. And now you don’t even do that, all you do is sign… You are not a man of science!”
Then I saw myself leaving the scene and climbing up a stair with a little difficulty cos’ the stairs were too narrow and the steps were too high. When I climbed up, I saw a friend of mine (Deep Blue Sea) wearing a maroon full-shirt and off-white trousers.
I came down, cos somebody asked me to come down… When I got down, I found my aunt and my mom conspiring with my father…As soon as they saw me, they put an end to their hush-hush conversation and giggled away at me…I was mad at all of them, and was pretty disgusted by the steel-box my father was opening where he kept his betel-leaf and betel-nuts…I don’t remember anything else after that…I probably woke up just after that…
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