Adah

“It is true I do not speak as well as I can think. But that is true of most people, as nearly as I can tell.”- Adah, The Poisonwood Bible.

I wish we were like the avatar animals & beings—if we could communicate in pictures…we might communicate better. It is just so hard to explain to someone the wonders that we truly feel, the hurt that’s battering us, the uncertainty over certain decisions that must be made… Some things exist that can only be thought, never truly communicated.

This book is so full of quotes I wish I could just…beam through in thoughts to you. I wish you could understand the way I see things, if not see them the way I do. I wish you could look into my soul and know me…all my fears and hang-ups without my having to lay them down for you one by one…it is so time consuming and heart breaking!

Like…the wonder in the eyes of children when you make a face at them in the traffic-that lil second where eyes meet, your face contorts and theirs is drowned in wonderment.

Like…how there are little things that can make or break a relationship though it would feel so petty to talk about them….the way you talk to me sometimes (the annoyance right here that I cannot communicate in one line), that odd lil cliff hanger you got going. :D its funny now.

Like…...like, your hearts hurting and you really don’t know why you’re there! that feeling of wanting to die rather than fess up to some evil that you have done. I mean, if I could communicate just that one feeling-I’d be made for life. :) anyone would forgive when encountering such heartfelt repentance…won’t they?

O and yea, that feeling when you know something you were counting on has gone…quite literally, that sinking feeling. Like an animal died inside of you and needs to be “appropriately” discarded.

My favourite is Adah, so far. Ofcourse Ruth is lovely too.

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I wonder if primates can do “wonder” expressions? I mean, that expression which is neither surprise nor shock…nor simply a feeling of having been found, or stunned. Just that pure moment where you come upon a sunrise and your eyes widen and you think….aaaah! :) that lil smile and that happiness that beams across your being. Wonder-My Favourite Human Expression.

Lessons & Resolutions

Lessons.

1. Just because you’ve been physical with someone, or find them so attractive that your pants slip off when you see them-does not mean that you’re meant to be with them, or that you’re in love.

2. It is never advisable to sell your soul for a job, even when the ship seems to be sinking.

3. Sometimes when your ex gets committed, you realize you’re in love with them. This is NOT love.

4. It is never ok to say things you do not mean just because you know it will hurt. It will hurt more because you said it despite not meaning it, and because you’re evil.

Resolutions.

1. Less Alcohol, more Adventure.

2. Lesser hang ups, more experiments.

3. More talking, lesser messaging.

4. Being the bitch, if that’s what makes you happy even though the world would hate you.

5. http://wikitravel.org/en/Footloose_in_Old_Delhi#b

6. Make a complete fool of yourself, otherwise you will never know.

Madness

30-11-2011, Vacations.

It’s odd, the things we remember and the things we remember not. I remember how I was so overwhelmed by my love for you and ended up crying and breaking up with you. I remember how once I’d listened to this song you told me to listen to and I ‘narrated’ the lyrics to you and you said “mujhe kya bata rahi hai. Maine suna hai.” Hah.

Such children we were…we were so young. I’ve known you since before I was the person I am today, since before I was a person. And I think I will love that person I knew, so sad and yet so…sprightly.

But I look at you today and I wonder how you got here. And I could list out the reasons I don’t like you anymore, and none of them would make any sense. I hate you because you’re the wedge between me and the sister. Because she is the only person I truly care about, and the only person I want in my life, you had no right or place to wedge yourself between us. It should never have been that I would have to keep anything from her, so that she could continue respecting you, so that your friendship could be spared from what had happened.

It kills me how you’re the reason that my immediate core circle is devoid of people. I cannot lie for you, I never wanted to and for myself I never would have. You made me do something for you against my better judgment, something that I would not have done to salvage mine own dignity.

Sigh.

And to the sister. What can I say to you? I love you so much that it hurts everytime I think of you. I love you so much that everything you say even slightly hurtful, hurts a lot. It breaks my heart. And to feel like I’ve lost you to people I really despise makes me feel childish, yet wronged.

Another deep sigh. Honesty is so much hard work. I was so happy to believe that I was thick-skinned and nothing really hurt.

Charles Dickens’, in The Madman’s Manuscript, captures the essence of what I’m feeling right now. A madman on the brink of madness, afraid of going mad and then later when he does, realizing how brilliant it is to hide the fact from others, fooling them.

“At last it came upon me, and I wondered how I could ever have feared it. I could go into the world now, and laugh and shout with the best among them. I knew I was mad, but they did not even suspect it. How I used to hug myself with delight when I thought of the fine trick I was playing them…”

Yep. Gothic Short Stories, a RD collection J just what I need around this time and place.

The solitary mountainside was made dismal by it. Laughter, when out of place, mistimed, or bursting forth from a disordered state of feeling, may be the most terrible modulation of the human voice.- Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ethan Brand.

I rejoice in my pretentious anonymity. Thank you for helping me keep it this way.

Thoughts.

It's quite rare that an author captures a thought so perfectly that you know you've thought it before, but he's gone and said it! and well, thats what makes good authors. I've been reading this RD collection of Gothic Short Stories (very tempted to footnote!) where Charles Dickens' observation of a madman seems so appropriate and all in all, written for me! very disturbing.

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If one of your thoughts were to escape your head and announce itself to the world, how amusing would it be? Random folks walking down random streets with sudden announcements of the oddest kind! I think the world would be a wonderful, albeit more predictable, place to live in. Although ofcourse, libraries might not remain as deathly quiet as they are. And more than one instance of assault would take place at the ‘leak’ of an oddly lecherous thought-by men and women, alike.

Do thoughts feel like they’re caged in our heads? Wanting to burst free every second and wondering why this fool wouldn jus set it free with the utterance of those noises she keeps making all the time while never speaking of anything relelvant or thought provoking.

Do thoughts feel provoked by other thoughts? Do they have violent instincts? Do they feel so mortally aggrieved (are they mortal?) by the existence of another thought that they wish to thunder out in the most insolent manner? Or is that jus us fools?

Home. Lots of Free time. Death inside a Head.

When they make a movie about boys whoring themselves out, its called Desi Boyz and is described as an upcoming Hindi action comedy film; when they make a movie about a woman doing the same, its called (sob sob) Lagaa Chunari mein Daag, the struggle of a woman to make a living in the cruel and demanding society with maturity and precision.

This is the world that we live in.

Anyway, must watch? Taste of Tea. Its Japanese and its LOVELY.

Class Time Pass 2008-09?

Today is 9/11.

Thoughts in class-from 2007-08 I guess.

The most fascinating thing, by far, has to be the irrelevant things people say:

1. In class when a teacher explains a concept and a student essentially re-phrases and re-states the same. I mean…oooo what did that accomplish? But he’s nodding with approval-oh. You said it, my child.

2. Ask a question, receive an answer, ignore the answer. Whaa? Why’d ya ask!

3. Things like this critical essay-wasted words, wasted energy…why!

Sometimes it annoys me so much that people blabber uselessly, but it isn’t possible for me at least, to live without this background noise. Cannot work without it. Cannot think without it.

Silence preoccupies my mind, distracting it from any coherence.

There are these days of utter silence in class-the exams approach. It’s unusual. Scary.Change-afraid of.

I don’t know why anything unusual normally sets these humans off. Why? Why be afraid of something you don’t even know? Shouldn’t ignorance be blissful, and thereby give you courage?

Well, sometimes I don’t have any thoughts. Thoughtless human being. Woe is me. Woe is me. Accursed creature of the day. Unable to walk, awake at night. Living amongst those sickeningly like me, and sickeningly unlike.

My head is rolling, I guess this is how being doped feels like—disconnected-Don’t see the pleasure.

Carpe-Diem and Other Things

Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Seize the day- giving minimum credit to the posterior.

Of course that’s not what it really means. Latin is Greek to us.

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Bad poetry begets bad poetry. Yes, I know. When we were chill’en we had this program where you could preset a few things and it would write poetry for you. Very typical stuff.

I am so glad to have you as a friend,

We shall be together even to the end.

You are my friend and I am blessed,

For no one can play as well a game of Chess.

You get the drift. Bullshit. And I hope mine’s not as bad (but I read ‘one night love’ again, and oh-god-i-wanna-delete!). So here is some nice stuff which reminds me of some lovely people…one of them lovely people is Pablo.



Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.

I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;

how did your lips feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;

I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of you. I live with pain that is like a wound;

if you touch me, you will do me irreparable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects.

-Neruda