Who'dhavethunk growing up would feel sluggish, would feel anything.

At the end of some days I feel like, man, today was one of those days from which there is no going back. I have crossed a bloody threshold and there is no growing young to make up for this.  Like the day I cleaned my house, through and through. It was done, there was no going back to the me before the clean up.

But there has been only two or three such instances when it feels quick and painless. Otherwise, it feels more like slowly pulling off a broken nail. Can't let it hang there, have to voluntarily and slowly tear it off.

Sometimes I think this bothers me so much that I rush headfirst into something I've labelled and stored in my mindhouse (not a mind palace mind you) as "Grown Up Stuff (Misc.)".  Just to beat the slugginess. Tear the nail off.

Then suddenly I'm in the middle of a conversation about what return gifts should be given to which aunt for my house warming, and I just want to run to my parents, ask them to handle it and sit in front of the TV while they do. 


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It's 2014 guys.  I haven't blogged in a while.  This year I'm super optimistic about, but most of this year has been me being sick, very sick, sick again and mildly blue.  I'm still super optimistic.  Happy optimistic 2014 to you (and me).


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I spent a lot of money on acquiring some Harry Potter Lego Sets. I've got mixed feelings about it.  Largely positive though.


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I have a craving for gold bangles.  Does that happen? Have you seen the price of gold? Sigh.

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Im so tired of this job, so bored, I just want out, I feel its killing me not so softly.

Quit then no

Eh no, Im just being a spoilt lazy brat.

It's ok to put your foot down sometimes

Yes, but I just want to put my feet up.

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It crept up on her quietly this time, with no warning. 

She was reading a book on her flight home. It was a good book. Mort by Terry Pratchett. She'd read it before, laughed out loud. But this time she found herself taking it very seriously.

She shut it halfway just as the flight was about to land. She looked up and swallowed hard. Quite suddenly she was aware of the countless strangers around her. Living breathing sweating people. Each looking different from the other, each with an entire history an entire life she knew nothing of and will never know anything of.

So? So what so what so what. She shook herself. The lady next to her grunted her disapproval and went back to drooling on the window. Argh, so what, why did it feel so weird. She turned to her right, and an old muslim gentleman on the other side turned left and stared straight at her.

She was the first to look away. She was surprised to see how much that had shaken her. Was he still looking? What if she hadnt looked away, would he have said something? Would what he said have changed her life?

She forced herself to look at him again, he was reading a newspaper. No. He isn't some messenger. No, reality as she knew isn't slipping away into crazy. Everyone's just normal doing normal things. Turbulence.

Is it going down? Will this plane crash? Are these thoughts you have when you know somehow that you're going to die? She grips her seat handles hard. She notices that the man to her right counting something with his fingers. What? What is it. What is it. 

It's nothing. She is pleading with her brain to stop with the drama. The flight lands just fine. She can't get her heart to stop pounding. 

She looks down at her hands, turns them over. Stares at her palms. She doesn't know why that action always grounds her, stops her from screaming.

She calms down, looks up. 

She screams.

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I have a way, for us all to be happy

for us all to feel fine, to be satisfied

 

It involves us following a rule,

a principle, that might help us get by

 

say it with me.

I am a rock, you are an island.

 

I am a rock, I have no feelings

you are an island, you need no friends.

I am a rock, I have no opinion

you are an island, you need no help

 

I cant bring myself to follow this rule though,

I believe more in

 

I am some fruit squash, you are a slurpie.

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its amazing how sad we feel when someone dies, but couldnt care less when theyre alive.

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Gur Naal Ishq Mita

I wonder what that song means.  The whole thing is absolute gibberish to me, but how Ive enjoyed it over the years.

When I was young(er), I think 12? who knows, I used to imagine the whole song was sung in a made up language and it inspired me to make plenty of my own. Usually the tunes were borrowed from Rahman or BSB (yo), but eventually (sung repeatedly with fair precision over a few days) they evolved into my own sound.

wah.

If someone came and said, hey man for one song we will allow your donkeybraysingvoice to be replaced and become perfect, what song do you choose?

I'd choose 'Aaj Jaane ki zid na karo'.

But first, I'd be all - how can you make that happen for me man?
They'd be all - its called a wish, we'd grant you the wish and it'd just be.
Ok, but are there conditions, like I would need to be on a stage and singing to a hundred people?
No...no nothing like that. Geez, accept a wish granting gracefully would you.

Hmm

Then I thought, I wonder if that was a wise choice. Being a Tam, I've always wanted to shove something in the face of those chicks who'd come over and plop themselves down in front of our nicely decorated Golu and start singing their hearts out while the entire family muttered in approval and slapped their thighs in tune (not lewd come on).

But, now I could sing beautifully as well - except everyone would be all, what is this sadhindisong cheh, come on sing about Ganapathy. I'd be all - oh, sorry I need to pee - and hide in the loo till they left.

Sad.

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my love for you
fills songs with meaning
that make them unbearable to listen to,
and make it difficult to breathe.

damn you man.

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