Migrane

When the tone from above
loses its voice at the throat
from a twisted stomach
that pushes back remains
up the pipe
to the lungs,

a migrane,
that tech-glitch in that old gramophone,
squeals like an injured rat
and puts everything to rest...

Do you?

What're adjectives but smart sounding nouns ending with 'y'!

"Wintery mornings give a summery feel when sprinkled with gingery thoughts?" She sat there wondering how lives wouldve changed had English been such a simple code to crack. And how would he know? He'd never asked her out. He had never tried anything romantic with words. The only time he'd expressed anything was disbelief when someone asked them about "each other". She had had to sadly laugh it off as he wiped off his smile with serious doubts. Too many oxymorons in one line of a thought. That almost sounded profane! Sigh!

"Why not?" she asked. "Look, its quite impossible to construct what I said, the way I said it, in words other than the ones I used...right?" she justified. "And its important to say things, how ever you say things, you should SAY things."

"Hmmm" his droopy eyes opened lazily to look at hers. "If you insist!"

"I think thought and feel are lesser valued objects today. Too much focus on English grammar. Such a sad world." She was annoyed. "Yeah, I'm kinda annoyed" she confirmed aloud. He wasn't saying anything and that was testing her patience and wit. One year is a long-ish time frame. "Long-ish should be a word."

"What's gotten into you?" he frowned. "And in any case how's this conversation relevant to the mood of the day?" He stroked her cheeks with the back of his fingers. "The intended mood of today." He bent forward towards her.

No more silencing. She sat back. "I dono!" she sighed. 

"Single-hood - thats a thought-feel word - isnt it?" he winked.  

She was whining. Not aloud. "Think I'll go home now, not that you've entertained me ever, to stay back. But well, its not like you're my boyfriend, so let it be!"

He smiled, almost swallowing the laughter that he couldnt let out of himself. Just like words that saw themselves stuck in his diaphragm. Simple words, tough ones, heart wrenching ones, words like sounds that echoed his gut - all stuck - when she was around. Deep breathing helped, crackling his fingers helped, swallowing blobs of saliva helped. But they helped in silencing those incessantly pounding heartbeats. All the time!

He cleared his throat. "Miss tinkering thought," he whispered, "187 coffees...188th," he held his glass high. "we're dating right?"

She smiled a wink-ish smile. "Wintery mornings with strong-ish coffees," she wrote "and one confused right-ish line!" She closed her thought-book. 

Pimple...

a pimple is an irritating wrinkle,
a bulging cod-liver-oil tab, soft-gentle,
I wanna pop it off with a prick neat-simple,
and make it look like a smiling reverse dimple! :)

Sacrifice!

gloomy rise gloomy fall
gloomy day standing tall
seeking eyes watching noise
summer scents with all its poise

when your solemn withering heart
dies each time its asked to part
killing normalcy shredding pride
slicing your insides cutting it wide

and despite that you reach one edifice
to let it be, ease the other's size
and when you smile, accept slow demise,
what do they call it? sacrifice?

Throwing up!

I stepped on the line-like pedestal,
foot in my mouth,
and asked, my question collossal,
disturbed, looking south.

"What is right to do
is what is right, sometimes right?
for he is who
oscillates, together, sees black, sees light!

Like perfection, he strings together
concepts hither-tither,
fantasy-like, unattainable,
I cant talk, he's undisputable."

They answered in many a tune,
Made me seem like a goner, a lune-

"Seek purpose, but not too loud, maybe in silence,
Try logic, try focus, hey, be humble, not that intense,"
"It maybe price", they said, "but careful, it may not be penny",
and I heard them all, fully, their words very many.

Confused, I walked into the kitchen,
common cold notwithstanding,
I washed and scrubbed vessels, with precision,
amid clashes, tangles and all the tinkering.

Yes, there came a time when it felt
like i wouldnt survive,
you know, the skin withers, smiles melt,
fingers shrink from 10 to 8 to 5,

and then I chalked out the master plan,
peeled out disturbance like a layer-sun-tan,
I plugged in earphones, in my ears two,
and blew out the irritants in my nostrils, "Aachhhhhooooo!"

PS - Excuse me! :)

Magic River!

is that water body,
mirror-like but wavy, that
reflects
your real image
when you peek into it.

It takes an x-ray of your system
and displays each detail
that was,
that is,
that will be -

tongue to toe,
head to heel,
veins to knuckles-
and engulfs into its waterly-ness

rolling pearls that would, otherwise, gather more dust!

PS -
Tu apne dil ke jawaa dhadkano ko gin ke bata
Teri tarah mera dil, beqarar hai ki nahi!

Settle...

"I look like an eraser",
bubble gum said,
"harmless warrior, sitting right there,
fightlessly defeated,
Why would you not simply let me be
leave me on the table with cup and tea?

Why take me inside you,
your strange contours of first intimacy
tasting walls of saliva-condue
with convincing simile?"

"Thats just a prelude, dear u", they replied,
"You gotta figure out your dimensions, go long and wide,
We temper our temper, alright,
through you we offload our spite!"

"I'm lucky", it said, "I'll cleanse you slow,
You get me fast, you get me neat, you get me low,
I'll learn, mould my contours, for when I'm alone and subdued,
You'll spit me out, when there's food you cant refuse,

Thats when I'll find my way,
even in my being, diffused,
I'll stick to my new surface forever,
no fears anymore, I cant be reused!"

Washerman!

When
the smell 'on' the clothes I wore today
sticks its neck out,
unscrubb-able by my palms, uncleanse-able by the strength of my arms,
and transcends
the transient lobes of air that otherwise recycle themselves every 8 seconds,
I seek
the washerman!

An interview...

I run on wheels,
I claimed, cheerfully,
running thoughts in my head running faster than ever

but they looked at my 10-toed feet and seemed disappointed!

The Midnight and The Masala!

I made a silly pitch, seriously this night,
when Mary Midnight came to me and picked a fight,
"Oh, useless!" she yelled, "where's the regular jazz and jive?"
"Whats this silly powerpoint? you really need a life!"
I sat like a lost, hopeless creature and made a face,
"I need two square meals, no? Sigh, I rest my case!"

"Oh yes you do!" she mocked and scoffed,
"Do you eat them well at least? go detox!"
"From a crazy foodie (at least oily food!) and a mad food craver,
today, you think of work and only beaver,
get some health, eat some fresh fruit,
vent your misery, make it a conduit."

"Alright" I sighed and tip toed here and there,
half dreamy, half dead, finding pace but ill prepared,
But I came and sat with twinking eyes,
and opened the bag of chips, all calm and wise;
for 5min I chomped away with Masala as good company,
and ignored Mary Midnight's yelling and noisy cacophony.

"Stop", I said finally, and broke open a tender coconut,
emptied its contents and resisted all "but, but, but",
"Midnight, my dear, I'm done for the day,
Its time for you to rest, so pl will you go away?
I'm an obedient lass, and as you insisted, I did jive,
Be happy no, I also jus managed to get some life!

Sit back and lets assess all stocks,
that was some ayyo, some cheek, some oily food and tender coconut on the rocks,
a good recipe, a great piece of writing,
with a finish, this nail biting?
I think I hit the nail right on the head,
by making each reader scream and want me beheaded,
But in my defense, all neat, strong and perfect,
Reader Madam and Sir, its 2.20 am! What did u expect???!!!"

PS - Dont kill me pl...kinda needed my quota of cheap thrills for the day...err night...err  past-night....tata and good night!!!

Dyslexia...

noun.  brain-based type of learning disability that specifically impairs a person's ability to read...occurs after a brain   injury or in the context of dementia

Crowds of processors
Clouds of speed smoke
Mornings of rushed hushes from A to B to C to...

to gray uptown patches in the roots of the scalp
where there's a land between all the hair,
roads with a white surface
shining after the shampoo like clean sand dry after showers of rain...

to somewhere inside, into the root of the root,
some brain cells mixing into some abnormal flesh,
juggling nonsense
perfectly normally
as if it were
from whipping a whole lot of sense

scents
sent
cents

scant

scarce
scare
scar

me
you
him
her
they

all
dyslexic!

PS - "One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing...so hush little baby, dont you cry!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJOtaWyEzaI&feature=related

Vous c'est Moi...

I think of the best things about me sometimes and I can attribute all of those special parts of me individually, one by one, to appa or amma or both. I mean, there's nothing that I am from what I've done/felt/wanted by myself. So its like that physics principle of 'Energy can neither be created nor destroyed' but the difference is that here, its like a reality check - of how totally insignificant I am and how there's nothing I've done really in 27 years...

But then, putting some more thought, I think, on my own, I've embraced my pointlessness :)...like conveniently...n in a lot of ignorance, I'm thoroughly at peace and totally blissful :)...and I now have another reason to say I'm very selfish...coz amma appa I think its so easy to love you coz loving you is like loving myself...

And in this totally pointless discovery of the pointless me, I've managed to create the most pointless post...(sigh)!

Assignments!

How's the idea of having to do some godforesaken assignments on your much awaited and treasured weekends? And all this after you've 'graduated' from a premier b school of the country!

I find it irritating, despicable, unreasonable and at the end of it, totally embarrassing!

Thought Geometry!

Between two
points
of view
lies a
line
of thought.

When there is no line
there is a
curve
and thats why they say -
Dont beat
around
the bush!

PS - Every poet has a bad poem....some like me have a despicable, digusting one....such as this one!!!

"I took the road all travelled and that, that, that, my friend, has made alllllllll the difference!!!

Here's to cheap thrills - Cheers!!

Nothing for pedestrians!

Bangalore roads together form one roller coaster ride. You go up the flyover, come down an underpass, leap onto a "magic" box and get down another and this goes on and on!
These "magic boxes" that're being constructed on the road to the new airport, have almost outnumbered the countable good roads in the city. And people are very enthused by the fact that traffic congestion is gonna reduce and they can cruise away to catch their flights. But there's one ingredient of society that everybody seems to be ignoring without thought.
The Pedestrians!
What happens to them?
Consider this:
1. It takes at least 10min extra to cross the road near the erstwhile Ganganagar signal.
2. The cops who care only about the vehicles and how fast people in cars can reach, make huge crowds of pedestrians wait forever before ushering them to "the other side".
3. Elderly people find themselves completely lost amid the noisy vehicles.
4. The hired taxi's to the airport are as fast as fast can be. They honk away to glory and treat roads as their family property! No one dare take even a step forward let alone crossing the road.
5. The subways near the "magic boxes" are either poorly built or not built at all.
Aren't we sacrificing the convenience of harmless people - who dont cause air pollution or add to the ever-increasing traffic problem - for the betterment of the affluent?
Yes we are!
And yes, nobody gives a damn!

Concalls - A sign of frustration

Ok! So if u need a sytem to work, the one thing that you should and must possess is not:
1. Money
2. Manpower
3. Controllers
4. Management Support
5. Accuracy in procedures....

All that you need is a sense of integrity that makes you fight for the right details.
And when you have it but see that people around you don't, you are left FRUSTRATED!

Smelly Loo Smelly Loo!

I know this isnt the best way to start off with a blog but as they say the biggest ideas thrust themselves upon you only in the loo, on me they did too!
I hate inefficiency in whatever place and whichever case! But no, thats not the reason why I so detest the loo-cleaner-ladies out here. Its just the thought of how they can abstain completely from their day-today work and laze around the pantry gossipping and exchanging sweetnothings that makes me mad.
Whoever said Hitler had his positives should come to my office and check out the concentration-camp-like-loos.
Visualise: Tissues strewn around the dustbin which is overflowing with garbage, long hair flying around the floor mosaic, an odour that encompasses ur nostrils and envelops your existance (yuck!), water spilt around the seat and yes, thats not the end, there's no toilet paper either!
No, seriously, what the heck do they do all day....n exactly how many reminders in a day do they need to go about their job!
I'm angry, frustrated and helpless!
The brighter picture - It finally got me blogging! (Yey!) (Sigh!)