strand of hair..
Out of the shower I came, towel draped casually around my waist…and hair covering my boobs.This is what I tell my mom, my hair is like a piece of cloth which covers half my body. Let me come out of the washroom in a towel. Please mom.
”How can you be so shameless? It’s not decent.”
(Have I ever had the ambition or desire to be decent?)
It’s wet, not all of it. Just from the front, my new fringes plastered on my face. And wet from below too, near the neck.wet, soggy, sticky.
My hair.
I feel like that one strand which is lying on the bathroom floor. There it was my crowing glory. Here it is on the floor .I will now put it in the dustbin. Forget about it.
That hair doesn’t matter now. I don’t matter now.
life is a betrayal…
Life is a betrayal. Every man is betrayed as a child when his mother pushes him away; he is married off to a girl of his parents’ choice and expected not to complain. He is the victim of this strange conspiracy of society. His life is a motion picture, scene after scene he acts out his part ,just like so many others .From the womb, to a child ,to manhood, to old age……he is pursued by the ghastly hands of the clock…its a monotonous race. Now the end is here. He gives love, he gets love, he shares love, and he fears love. He mindlessly follows what he is expected to do……
Until one day –he realizes the absurdity of it all.
This man had a perfect life. A good job,a loving wife, caring friends. But their was a void in his heart.He keenly felt the ennui of life.He recalled not a moment of true happiness..Their was a persistent feeling of helplessness. He had suffered betrayal after betrayal, misfortune after misfortune.Still he lived on.But today the end came – he saw his wife with another man.
He jumped into the sea and ended his life.
Nothing was left. No hope No despair.the world drifted away there was nothing to pull him back…..any dilemmas of his humdrum life.He plunged into the sea of bitterness, darkness, and eternal silence.
Why did he do that? Wasn’t it just another betrayal in the series of betrayals that life had offered him?
This is the tragedy of human life. He lived in a world of illusion. But reality shattered his world.It poisoned the dream of his of soul. He was lost in the woods of madness…and madness has no boundaries……….
…………a bleak vision of life,a bulb glows, I sit cross-legged on the bed..moodily brooding…I am not even looking at the pages…pages full of black and white pain – pain of my soul.I am lost in the dizzy pursuit of a crack in the wall…trying to figure out what went wrong…questioning..troubled I look up and see my face reflected in the dusty windowpane – a frustrated,dissapointed weak face. I see my weakness, the hurt, the anguish of my heart out in front of me…. the world sighs around me a smoke filled cafe,a cacophony of hearts,light,movement,intimacy….but inside me – a darkness ,numbness., an eerie silence…stillness. I m lonely. Lonely in a crowd. Alone against everybody.
Why did he die???life is absurd, but death won’t make it les absurd.He died because he saw his wife with another man.(a woman he was forced to marry, someone he actually didn’t care about)the triviality of the reason is absurd.This was an inconsequential part of his whole life….there must have been much more to his life…..so why did he choose death.
Death is an eternal night.but life is like a night – it brings darkness but with a sure promise of daylight.
that’s all
“No way! see I don’t want to be a sisphus,and u know I don’t give a shit about money..yeah I need money but not much …u know like just to afford maybe one pair of Charles and Keith, a nice bag….any good brand would do…and a few occasional shopping trips to mango every month..That’s about it, nothing more….and yeah maybe my own home ..and obviously I don’t anta big house.hmm…..hw do people leave in those huge palace like house..i would just get lost in them…and end up spending my nigh searching for my bedroom….yeah so coming back to the point..i just want a small apartment…just one room..but a big one ..it should have a couch, a foosball table, a TV like your’s …u know plasma….and a big round bed with white satin bed sheets…and yes! Most important it must have a huge bathroom….with glass walls..all fancy…well that’s about it ..No kitchen required..I will just eat and Spanish tomato chips with corona extra.(I can keep this in a fridge)
so you see i am not running after money at all, just this much i want, and its reasonable too…and i don’t want a swanky car or whatever….just about any car will do, provided it has a good, like really good cd/ipod player.
that’s all and im set for life.
intermission
Intermission
As I flipping thru the channels on TV as usual I caught a glimpse of Cillian Murphy.sumhw that man has always intrigued me .he would be perfect in any of those mushy Ashton Kutcher,eyes full of love roles but strangely I have always seen him villainous or sly ,deceptive roles.
And now that is brilliant case of deceptive face .in all the movies he looks like the guy who can never do any harm to any living soul person, or anything bloody at all.but how wrong….he is the example of –never take anyone at face value.remember him as the suave, flirty, sensitive co traveler in the movie-“.and see what he turns to be ..god so evil.
But coming back to the movie as ended up watchin ,it ws the most unexpectedly fantastic realist movie, the frivolity of life on the streets,the absolutely reasons we have for doing weird things,the unexpected violence, the scumbags,the brainless ex tortionists ,aggressiveness of man ,the exaggeration of little things, false grandiose ideas we all have,how everyone loves the idea of revenge, notions of beauty.
There is no one really central plots but they all fall together sumhow.John, who doesn’t have the balls to ask a girl out but is ready to kill and rob to get to her.
Terry making a documentary ‘on he streets’ with Ben and the in the end gets caught up in it himself.
terry gets his wrecked back bt is heartbroken to find his favorite music cds missing!
The strange, horny, sporty older women …with a mouse of a husband.
Sally, so conscious of her very prominent moustache.
It’s a must watch movie, for the sheer frivolity of how seriously men take little feuds and mundane things of their rather weird lives.
kick in the heart
so here i was looking at my beloved diary ..or shud i say ex-diary…blue,faded,graffiti,phone numbers,sog lyrics scribbled on the back pages..not quite yellow paged bt in the process…. i had always wanted such a diary…u knw like to read in my old age and show my descendents….bt these pests have shattered my dream….its no more a diary…its a heap of chewed paper..and that too chewd equally,i mean the size of the bits of aper is the same..(yes i noticed that)..the rascal mouse is quite precise in this matter….
and this is nt the end the heap is a nest,a.. soft bed of little pink new born mice!!!this has what become of all my years of supposed creativity or should i say rantings and ramblings which i had scribbled in the book….
i hav decided to go the high tech way no more diaries for me now…i need to catch up wid the world ..and i think ill gv my descendts ..well my password to carry on the legacy …..
