- Waiting.

There is no time to wait. Time ways nothing. Weighting is tiresome if you have run patience out.

If you don't know where you are going, what does it matter which path you choose?

You ask me,

now, what?

I say, nothing.

It is what it is. What was can never be. What will be can never be.


So, what now?

This.

- I look at a few photographs and while I'm smiling, I can feel myself inching slowly towards sadness, thinking, I want that too.

What does it mean?

I haven't had a good night's sleep in the last I-don't-know-how-many-nights. I've been having strange dreams lately, sometimes nightmares too. In the middle of last night, I woke up with a shudder, literally. I couldn't remember the nightmare, but I felt scared. I have the tendency of recurring dreams and nightmares. Maybe I'll have it again tonight.

The dream that I do remember involved two other people, a boy and a girl. The girl wants to go meet some other boy and the boy in my dream doesn't approve. I seem to have a thing for this boy and find myself stuck between two. It's late and the girl wants to spend the night with the guy and I say, let her do what she wants to do. The boy doesn't want this to happen because he knows the other boy is a not-so-decent boy and I say, well, maybe you can meet him for lunch tomorrow. And I'm torn. We are in someone's room and there's ice-cream (considering how much I love ice-cream, not surprised that it appears in my dream). I'm trying to mend the situation by deflecting the tension onto deciding on what ice-cream each of them wants, when it gets cold in the room and I wake up to draw the curtains and lower the speed of the fan.

The other dream I was in love with a professor and he's in love with me and everyone knows about it and is happy about it, only, I need to finish my degree in order to 'officially' be with him. Oh boy.

What does it mean? It means I need a new strip of sleeping pills.

Why you should stay awake.

(One of) the things about it (is)
Drowned out by the (moral baseline)
Feel it in your skull
Tearing through your sad (line)
Embarrassing
Someone will notice

Your boat will sink
Your plane will tip to the side
No one will cry
When they pick up the pieces
On your mind
That you hardly used

(Pissed up awake)

(I can see)
Don't even try
(Will you hear)
There will be consequences

Stay up
Stay awake

I'm thinking about that one time
The suffering that will never fade
The horrible repercussions
The memory stays but the marker fades

It could be seen (as your fault)
Your heart bleeding on me
Whilst I dream of some good (days)
Bad days waiting there for morning

How could I explain a thing
That you drew on my face?

~People Staying Awake, by Sleeping People.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQ89-zHx3Qo

What when.

What when I wake up and don't find you here?
Here where you made me smile.
How it has changed me.
The mirror doesn't reflect what used to be.


But you see what used to be.
You love what was and is.
Though time hurried away
to reach where we didn't want to be,
You stayed like you promised.

You stayed though they said you could get it too,
You stayed hoping you caught it before I finished
You stayed with my hand held tight,
You stayed and didn't wake up after my last breath.

St. Patrick's Day.

No, its not St. Patrick's Day. This song makes me feel differently at different times. One of the most beautiful songs ever.

Here comes the cold
Break out the winter clothes
And find a love to call your own
You - enter you
Your cheeks a shade of pink
And the rest of you in powder blue

Who knows what will be
But I'll make you this guarantee

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time

In the dark, on the phone
You tell me the names of your brothers
And your favorite colors
I'm learning you
And when it snows again
We'll take a walk outside
And search the sky
Like children do
I'll say to you

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
And come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?

And we'll both be safe 'til St. Patrick's Day

We should take a ride tonight around the town
and look around at all the beautiful houses
something in the way that blue lights on a black night
can make you feel more
everybody, it seems to me, just wants to be
just like you and me

No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
Come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?

And if our always is all that we gave
And we someday take that away
I'll be alright if it was just 'til St. Patrick's Day  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS2nag9H4Fo

So happy together.

Aw.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mploADKBihc

Take me somewhere nice.

Ghosts in the photograph
never lied to me.

I'd be all of that
I'd be all of that.

A false memory
would be everything.
A denial my eliminent.

What was that for?
What was that for?

What would you do
if you saw spaceships
over Glasgow?
Would you fear them?

Every aircraft,
every camera,
is a wish that
wasn't granted.

What was that for?
What was that for?

Try to be bad.
Try to be bad.

~Take me somewhere nice, by Mogwai.

A fistful of clouds.

Sitting in the back seat of my Dad's car. We're zooming past the green hazy trees, past the white broken line in the center of the road which no longer looks broken. Sister's asleep on the other seat and my Mum is trying to stay awake. My Dad has no problem staying awake. And I don't like sleeping in the car because of all the scenes I'd miss out on. The green farmland, the brown rocky hills, the odd river that seemingly starts from nowhere. My favourite, however, are the hill-like rock formations that one can see when travelling on road outside Bangalore. Rocks kept upon rocks, finally topped with either a huge rock or a tiny rock. One touch from the side and the leader would fall. The clouds hovered over the tallest rock-hill, as though waiting for something to happen...

 (The wind in my hair)

... I saw myself standing on top of the highest rock, reaching out to the white, fluffy clouds above me, to grab a fistful of clouds.

Short.

My posts are usually short. This time too.

Its late, twelve minutes to midnight as I type this.

There is a strange feeling at heart. Its a feeling I've had before, so its not really strange, is it? Oh, but it is. Because its strange-r than the previous strange I experienced.

Sometimes when I can't sleep, I find things online. Its always interesting to read things that people write when they are awake late at night. The world is so different at this time of the day. (The song Remember Me as a Time of the Day popped in my head, I love it that happens).

Now that the song is in my head, the mood has changed. I'm smiling. A sad smile maybe? Maybe. Memories. Memories remind you. I always say you, never I. Its easier that way,  isn't it? To talk about someone else.

If only I could fool myself.


Where would I be, if not here. Disconnected thoughts appear, but are they disconnected at all? Everything is connected, its only that I don't see the thin hair-like, translucent fibers that hold it all together.

If everything is what is, where does the is, that isn't yet, come from?

Go, listen to Remember Me as a Time of Day and tell me what you feel.

Morning.

A beautiful summer morning.

A park bench made of stone,
young green leaves hovering over you,

The sun tries to catch you,
you lean back and forth to avoid it.

It catches the edge of your newspaper,
some words more lighted than the others.

The dog sniffs your feet,
you sniff the air.

You pat the dog lovingly,
and nature responds with a light breeze.

Today.

So, today.

I was (am) sick today. A bad cold infection, a possibly increasing fever. I slept after breakfast till lunch time. I woke up, cooked lunch for myself [rice, vegetables, ketchup (yes, ketchup. I was desperate for some flavour)]. I then treated myself to the Djokovic-Ferrer quarter-finals at the Australian Open. Oh what a match it was! I was literally at the edge of my seat at certain points and I must admit, Djo's playing amazingly well. The match lifted my spirits, I visited the doctor (there is a strange sense of, I don't know how to put it, enable-ment you feel when you go the doc by yourself. Not considering the loneliness you might feel if you're Very sick). I then went to the medical shop, came back, had some coffee and sat down to watch Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, after a really long time.

And now, after dinner, my body is demanding some sleep.

I'm disobeying my body to write this. It must mean something, doesn't it?

Music.

Ah.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_BWZRxoO3w&feature=related

Sunday.

Time passes slowly on a Sunday. You wake up, not wanting to do anything. You wake up without an alarm, skip breakfast, have a late bath (or none at all) and have a massive, tummy-bursting lunch. And you then sleep. For hours. When you wake up, you notice the time has moved only an hour.

You wake up to an empty room.

The sun has set, you don't hear the birds.
Your neighbour uncle's groaning car,
Your Mum doesn't shout, 'Your coffee is getting cold!'

You get out. Oh, the prospect of life outside the gloomy room.

Outside.

There is someone else like you loitering on the other side of the road.
You smile. In empathy.
You walk until your mind is full,
You look at your watch,
Its x+10.

Back to the room.

Its as you left it.
Only,
You have to turn the lights on.

Time passes slowly on a Sunday.

Isn't it us who don't move?

Change.

Eyes open, what you see is not what was.

What was before, you don't see anymore.

                                                               Gone.

As quickly as it happened.

Maybe tomorrow will be a new day.

And then...

...

(The sun shone brightly, she shut her eyes. She took a couple of steps and realised she can't walk with her eyes shut. She opened them and quickly walked to the other side of the road where the trees shadowed the earth. There's no one around. She walked to the end of the road, smartly avoiding the sun in her eyes. The road split two-ways. A left, a right. Terrified of making the wrong choice, she turns around and finds the sun at the end of the road and trees on the left side of the road, beckoning her to their shade. The sun shines brightly, and she shuts her eye. She takes a couple of steps and realises she can't walk to her eyes shut. She opens them and quickly walks to the other side of the road where the trees shadow the earth. She sees someone in the distance. She knows its someone because she can hear he(she)(it) call out to her. 'Over here!' She walks to the end of the road, smartly avoiding the sun in her eyes. The roads splits two-ways. This time, unlike the previous many times, she is not terrified of making the wrong choice, she turns to her left and walks a distance to find a wooden cot with a cotton mattress covered by a blue bedspread with her blanket folded neatly at the foot.)


... there was nothing,




























but sleep.

Alone.

Sometimes you need a blog because you have no one to talk to.

Sure, there are people around me, there are people I have breakfast with, there is a girl I live with, there are people I share classes with, there are people with whom I have discussions outside the library.

But then there are times when I have something in my mind, but I can't tell them. I don't want to tell them. We all have different sides to us and this side I don't want them to see. Am I ashamed? No. Do I feel vulnerable? No. Some sides are meant to be kept secret. Private sphere, public sphere.

I have always been a private person, I have a lot of friends but I don't spend every waking minute with them. I like having meals alone every once in a while, I like going for walks by myself with some music (or not), I like watching movies at the cinema hall alone, I love travelling around the city by myself. Being alone, you see things you missed before. You smile at that split second moment when light leaks through bright green leaves fluttering in the breezy morning, falling softly on the path you're walking in, and you see every speck of dust that is there to be seen.

Maybe I'll write here more often now.