Friday, July 24


Bonnie & Clyde made my heart sing and my soul make its presence felt.

Give me reason to live / Teri behki behki nigaah nai mujhe ik sharaabi banaa diya


I wonder. Am I secretly at heart a cheesy, lustful fat old man? Do I want to tell you to go on over there, turn on the lights (ALL the lights), come over here, stand on that chair, raise your arms and shake them? Am I worried that suspicious minds are talking, trying to tear us apart, that they don't believe in this love of mine, but they don't know what love is?
But I know what love is.

Or am I secretly an insane, completely awesome fat old man? Kya main saaki ki har nigaah pe balkha ke pi gaya? Lehro se khailta hua lehra ke pi gaya? Jab se dekha hai unki aankho ko halka sa saroor rehta hai? Na namaaz aati hai mujhko, na wazoo aata hai. Sajda kar leta hu jab saamne tu aata hai :)
Mera baad kis ko sataonge?
Mujhe kis tarah se mitaonge?
Kahaan jaa ke teer chalaaonge?
Yeh teri nazar ka kusoor hai ke sharaab peena sikha diya.

My gums don't bleed anymore. It's like I'm losing my identity all over again.

Friday, July 17

Above you

One of the reasons why I'm not listening to music right now is because songs like these, songs that in my increasingly unhinged mind are entirely devoid of musical quality but are wholly representations of context, they make it harder for me to focus on the pertinent, things that I have come to know for a fact. These aural misrepresentations only speak to me of urgency and the fervent need to cut yourself open a little, to let your nasty bits hang loose, to loosen your vice like grip on your foolish but all very real notions of mortality.
So today, again, I'm more than just a little insane.
Are we all bound to repeat ourselves? Over and over and over. The same story, with different people playing the part that seems to be set in stone. It's not about the people, or the reaction they induce in my blood. It's not about the fact that how their day went matters to me. It's also not about how certain smells and sensations trigger the most primeval sensation of comfort and security. What really got to me today, was when I realised that I'm playing a part in someone else's pattern. I too am fitting into their required scheme of things, it's really not about me, but just to what extent my behaviour and reactions fit into the part portrayed by many before me. I'm not sure whether I should be comforted in the knowledge that it's not just me who's a slave to some subconscious requirement to live the same scenario over and over, to be the same person in multiple people's lives. It makes me wonder, to what level has some part of me decided my fate, mapped out how the rest of my life will be.
So I'm not listening to music. Because I don't want to forget that you and I are pawns in our own grand scheme of things, not for the sake of a pretty tune.

To clarity

I'm going to call this the year of my narrow escape.

Thursday, July 16

Sunday, July 12


It's Sunday!
An ugly dude is hoping to get laid. I'm going to get my hair cut (yay!), study, listen to music and stay in my room indefinitely. I've made up my mind to go for a four day weekend to help cope with my new-found incoherence. My house is currently being torn down and built right back up right around my ears and everyone is irritable. Bunny's coming back tomorrow for about 10 days and my heart is overflowing with happiness. It's been far too long and I desperately need the comfort of something familiar and it doesn't get any more familiar than her.
Fuck familiarity. I'm also all for moving to a new country and starting from scratch. Blog, give me the strength and fortitude to be me and to re-learn how to spend time by myself again.
And to not be incoherent. Most importantly, to not be incoherent, to be able to think in a modular fashion again.
And to not be in that part of my life where the results of systematic years of abuse start announcing themselves very rudely. You know you're old when your friends aren't as invincible as you were anymore :(
Did I mention I'm happy? I think I feel a little like myself again and I'm hoping it remains this way at least for a bit. I've been incapable of doing certain things wholly since I was a teenager. Of feeling things completely, of being in a place entirely. Of accepting people and not just thinking of them subconsciously as transient entertainment. I think the first time around itself I completely overdid it and blew all the fuses in one go. Inshallah, I'll be able to re-learn some of these things or acknowledge that I can't and not go about pretending. But I think I'm a little excited about trying. This can only end in tears!
People who I'm going to be letting go off, I send you love. There are some things I can not do anymore, at least not for now. I don't have the energy for carrying around this kind of baggage indefinitely. I'm switching to modular thinking and being zen and if any of you have any solutions, I think you're my hero and let me hear them :)

Thursday, July 9

The day is starting off with me literally making a mental trade off between all the very necessary evils in my life. Coffee, which doesn’t really do anything for me, except for its very reassuring placebo effect and warmth and its innocuous fairly high sugar content, which I find myself returning to throughout the day. Cigarettes, with their seriously annoying feature of reducing your life by five minutes and their dastardly ability to curl up in delicate, wispy tendrils in every nook and cranny of my body, with their toe-curling levels of satisfaction. Just by thinking about it I can feel my resolve weaken and all I want to do is give in give in give in. I worry about this inclination towards completely & wantonly giving in. I worry about how these passing whims become full bodied desires, things to be single-mindedly craved and lusted after. See how I got distracted from completing my list? Lastly, Diet Coke, which has the disadvantage of the brain-retarding and cancer causing aspartame, to some degree, and the advantage of countering the sugar content of coffee and the fact that it actually makes a difference. That is, I can at least feel it in my blood.
The root of all my problems eventually boils down to whether or not I can feel it in my blood. Everything is dictated by its mindless, ceaseless whispering. My life would be a lot simpler and a lot healthier and a lot freer if my blood learned how to leave aside its relentless pursuit for deferring discontentment.
Yeah, so I got me some Diet Coke.

Wednesday, July 8

Drought struck :|

It's the easiest way to spot a blog from Delhi, and I really really tried to not succumb to the banality of talking about the weather, but fucking hell, it's SO HOT :(
I've never been big on air conditioning and in fact have all my life refused to have one put in my room. So now, just when I return from a place where I was wearing a bleeding jacket during the day, north India decides to go and declare an official drought and I'm stuck sleeping in the only room without air conditioning. (Which honestly, I infinitely prefer still but I'm posting this right after getting home so I don't feel the need to be fair)
My face is flushed and red like I've been running. I'm covered all over in this mist and I can acutely feel my shirt sticking to the small of my back. Delhi, I know we pride ourselves on being hardcore and either roasting in our own skins or freezing our tits off, but please, consider being pleasant and vaguely moderate? For once? Or can we just freeze our tits off all year round?

Murphy's idiot-proof guide to surviving a summer in Delhi:
- Multiple cold showers
- Wearing only white linen
- Dating cute boy with a pool in his backyard
- Mojitos
- Drinking about ten liters of cold water
- Quitting smoking
- Hanging out with cats who seem to hate the heat more than you and feeling better about being smooth-skinned
- Having a job where you end up spending 80% of your day in some office where you really can't tell whether it's snowing / raining / swelteringly hot outside
- Panna shots
- Terrace parties that start at eleven pm
- Minty Monsta Sundae at Big Chill
- Lemon bars, the green 5 rupee popsicle
- Absolutely no physical contact with another human

Tuesday, July 7

I'm bored.
But my hair is perfect.

Friday, July 3

I'm counting on you to support me through these things I don't understand. You feel alien, like you're not interested in my problems anymore, like you're mad at me for changing on you. Delhi, I don't understand this any more than you do. But I need to believe that you will remain mine and wherever I go you will call me home and want me back. That you will soothe my irrational fears and always carve out these dark spots that recur in me over and over and completely and forcefully make me yours again, to keep forever. I am counting on you to stake your claim over what was always yours.