Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Walk down the streets, enter into a store, call out for an auto, whatever you do, its hundred percent sure that you will be looked at or received differently. The newness of the surrounding is not all that makes you alienated, the way people meet out to you adds to it. The colour of your skin and the way your eyes or your face looks, and of which you were unconscious or unaware of before is suddenly startlingly pronounced against others. The rickshaw drivers find a prey in us and the rate they charge us never goes down below ten rupees more than the rate we are willing to pay. Giving in seems the only rational way to reaching home than to argue in bits and pieces of Tamil and English. The garish calls of the salesmen wanting to get you to look at their merchandise follows you around as you walk down a street. Their over enthusiastic help- almost bringing down the whole shop make you cringe back and forget the shopping, which was supposed to be relaxing, peaceful and a day out on your own. Five out of ten people will give a rather fast second glance as you pass by and you have to try hard not to stumble and fall. But, having a different face has its own advantages too. People look at you curiously and often are subjected to being cheated and misguided but instances like traveling alone in a bus or in a train, you will find that people are willing to help you out, if you ask for help.

Friday, November 07, 2003


"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Sylvia Plath

Thursday, November 06, 2003

the sun goes down
i feel the light betray me..

linkin park
Frens going out for matrix revolution tonight.. I'll be in the apartment with a fag in my hand and thinking .. hey! i should ve been there watching that movie. Fine.. there is always a next time ..for me. So .. i'll lose myself inside my head tonight.

matrix fan? read about it ... attlepi.nwsource.com/movies/146676_matrixgod04.html

Wednesday, November 05, 2003


Rings on the back of my finger
darkness in and around me
to the light the insects hover around
how can it be inviting?
buzz of the insects one with the night
harmonious, melodious and petrifyin' too
the wooden boards creaks and grunts
sleep is lost.
one song thats been buzzing around my head all morning ...

" i have your arms around me
warm like fire.."

like FIRE.. thats gonna be awfully hot .. why not something like..

like a hot water bottle... ha ha . that d be nice and warm.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

Making sense is a rare. At least to me , very few things makes sense. No, not this life or the universe or the sun shining endlessly. Eliot does. Thats all I am going to say, read him, you ll get me. If it doesn't we are different - thats obvious.
Love doesn't make sense, religion too. Music does, poetry too.

Speaking about poetry ... Christy and I were sharing some self-written poems in the canteen today and he told me about Haiku. Its awesome..But hey! haikus dont make sense... it does to the writer. the readers can percieve it their own way. If interested ..check, www.haikooties.com

I have got one for you ..its by Christy ,

Purple snowflakes on my radio,
the music dissapears,
I'm left cold and unclean.