Forgetron. Erase This Memory.

I remember this day, vaguely but with a familiarity of the emotions that causes my stomach to turn and my eyes to tear up.

I was in 1st Standard. Mrs. Robinson, with her Joker-from-Batman lips all moulin rouge-ed up, was checking our copies (notebooks). I was standing in line. Ms. Poo was standing in front of me in line.

It was just the two of us in line.

And then Mrs. Robinson curled those lips in the nastiest grimace and curled up her nose like a pug. I felt a strange wetness on my cavas-shoe-ed foot.  Strange. Very Strange.

The smell of shit pervaded our senses. 

Ms. Poo Shat on my Shoe.

Can you believe this?

I'd repressed this memory under a ton of bricks and then some. I told Ms. Rosa (a gummy bear that walks and talks like a Laid-A) about this incident when I was in 10th Standard. I told her I was unsure of the veracity of the story -- maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe it was a lie I'd made up [it sounded like a lie I would make up].

Ms. Rosa asked Ms. Poo if this was true. 

Ms. Poo blushed.

She blushed.

Blushed.

The Blush on Ms. Poo's face is evidence enough for me. 

I wonder how this story sounds, coming from Ms. Poo. A whole lot more amusing I'm sure.

She does not (neither do you.) understand the level of shitty that is accomplished in washing somebody else's shit off your shoe. Off your Canvas Shoes.

She had the audacity to say "I didn't do it. She must have."

Makes my mind crack and my butt boggle.

I missed recess and games, standing in the sun, waiting for my shoe to dry.

Image Courtesy: Me and the World without Forgetron.

In the Darkness

In the Darkness.
Awake--heart-thumping, brain-racing, blood freezing
Afraid, Terrified.

I wonder when it will stop.
The cheating, the lying,
the loving and hating.
The hands-searching in the night,
always knowing, always expecting,
A response. Committed or Not-always waiting.

Just a touch away from being
stupid, rash, insensitive.

In the Darkness.
A heat, a magnet. A heart breaking tug.
Hands & legs. Tangled thoughts and confused hearts.

In the Darkness.
Shadows cast-unknowing and unknowable.
Imperceptible.

Confessions of no-love.
It breaks my heart-
to be that person in the Darkness-
hurtful, hurt.
--h.c

"Here's looking at you, Kid."

And here, is realization, looking at me.
I have to confess. I Love You. And not the easy to ignore-somewhere in the back of my mind-sure someday-kinda love. I mean the kind that you need to capitalize each word in the sentence for-kind of love. I love You. I Love you. sigh.

I wish I never have to see your face, never have to see you smile. never have to see you not. never have to hear another joke about your love. I wish I never have to sense it or feel it. and I would die to be able to avoid that. I hate that I love you much more than I love you.

Its giving me a sense of morbidity and a derivative peace to keep repeating the phrase.

"Rick: I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.

Ilsa: But what about us?

Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have it before...we'd...we'd lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.

Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you...

Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now. Here's looking at you, kid."

Films & I

I could fool myself for a long long time really. I could go on believing we could be friends and the practical earthy side of me would just be ok.
That romance was not something I felt at all, just something intellectual that I thought about but never ever touched.

But THAT isn't true. There is a lot of hot drama brewing inside. Steaming me up. I wish I could kick you. Fists against your flimsy chest and cry in a pathetic filmy voice. All the while screaming...aisa kyun kara aisa kyun kara and nahi nahi.

But then practical earthy me would start laughing at pathetic filmy me. and that would be how the scene ends. Curtains.

say.

Yesterday.

You said

I will call you

And we would talk about

The past,

The Future,

The world as it slept,

Friends and family,

Your past,

Those other things,

The world as it awoke.

But.

You never called

And I find myself awaiting,

A call that doesn’t ring

A letter that never arrives

A message in a bottle

A whisper in the night

Mornings have dawned

And I haven’t slept a wink

And I’m barely alive

And I’m dying with every blink.

The weather’s getting colder.

The Fog is getting thicker.

Life is getting harder

And dreams are long dead.

The whispering night wind

Brings me no peace

The flying papers

Bring me no news

I feel utterly alone--

The train as it weeps in the distance—

And tomorrow will find me

Cheerful and chatty

Drowning out the quiet of

A call that doesn't ring

A letter that never arrives

A message in a bottle

A whisper in the night

And the weeping train and the whispering night winds and the rustling papers

They bring me no rest.

--h.c

Untitled.

Slow deliberate writing. Explaining itself. Taking its time, apologetic.

I am disappointed. Good writing is rare.

A Picture of Dorian Gray is the funniest book I have read in the longest time. The kind of joy and silly realization that you cant hold in despite the self conscious embarrassment of looking like an “affected” person.

Good writing inspires good writing. The trick to writing well, is reading great. 

I fancy myself as Lord Henry. A good narrator will always make you feel like its your thoughts being voiced, you view established and published.

One   Another one of my loves has found a woman I believe. And though he probably doesn't know my name, I am heart broken.

wait. Regardless of what he knows or doesn't, what I know is painful. dramatically so.

Mimic

I realized some while back that I was completely incapable of hating people. Regardless.
Today, I realized the sad sad corollary...I can't love people.

Lukewarm, Lukewarm. I am too complacent.

Like a fanny fart. neither here nor there.

_____________________________________________________

Because I realized today that Ms. Sunshine is not the love of my life because:

Because there's so much water under the bridge that the bridge is floating on it...and at risk of going under

  Because i think i love him today but i may change my mind tomorrow

00:29 Because life is too complicated n my few friends are too precious to throw at the whim of love n its intricacies

  Because im super scared that he will b hung up on her n i cant have him preoccupied about someone else

00:30 Because he will always belong to a million people n never just to me

00:31 Because i dont do sharing well n im afraid to venture into the area of hpw much i may love him...or how little

00:32 Million n one reasons but the top most being that at this stage weve both fucked around n mucked up so much that 'simply us' wont be simple or us for him or for.me...

  There are too many ppl involved n i love all of them

19 minutes

00:52 N i like that i have such precious people in my life...people ive held.on to for so long that the thought of not having them is unfathomable n horrible as far as fathomable

00:53 N i like his woman

  Like...ive come to genuinely like her...n as an outsider i like their relationdhip n wouldn want to do them any harm

  Im stepping back :) n thats that


____________________________________________________________________________
and then i felt...so grownup.