I saw the Purple People Eater say, "You and your silly monkey do not go home from the zoo?!?" It was the strangest day. I didn't know People Eaters could talk. At least that silly monkey was reading a good book.
where do you live now? what color is your house? My old school and your football ground and that day of ceaseless rain... when we stood under the golden tree. soaking wet. Cold but calm. I still remember you in bits and pieces.
A long time from today, when i am old and wrinkly. Beady eyed and White haired - i will gather whoever will listen and tell them what I saw today:
"All is forgotten suddenly, nothing is remembered either, they all held hands and looked up at the sky - the moon smiles on Bombay tonight! A crazy big smile :) hope baby!! hope!!!!"
I see clearly for a minute... for a moment I hear perfectly what it wants us to hear. On toes... thankful and a bit crazy.
The reason why I came in today to see you was that I was sick and tired, of being here without you. I lugged around a very very heavy bag in the airport and pulled a muscle in my back.
My city is alien to me now, I don't sit around in that book store for hours anymore. I roamed around completely lost. Did nothing constructive other than day dream about us sitting in the sun. Your shadow covering my face from the harsh light.
Its been a long day. Not hard. Just very long. I heard some one talking about autumn the other day and I automatically thought of you, or rather what kind of a tree would you be? I will be a golden shower tree. Dancing quietly in that secret wind that blows only late at night when no one is up. When its just the wind and the tree.
I fall asleep sometimes but mostly I am awake all night. It used to be so beautiful my small town of walls and paper. One day I took a very long walk and lost my way. One day I decided not to come back home.
It was a sleepy town I entered where it was supposed to be calm all the time. I couldn't be. I had ruined everything by giving someone the power to make me disappear.
Father wears a sad look when he is talking to me. Like he has lost some one close. I am a bit confused now. The memory of that past life are muddy like the rain water in front of me. I think I had a happy life. I hurt my lower lip one day. It was swollen. I thought I needed a hot shower.
If you don't sleep then days are long and the night is just the same. Sleepy town was no good. I grabbed my coat and walked around looking for some thing to eat. I need to find a place which would serve a hard boiled egg at 3 in the morning.
The months of march, April ,may and June in the small town where my Nanaji lives alone in a huge house , it is the season when my three favorite flower bearing trees bloom. From the time that I was 7 till 15, i have spent every summer in that big dark, cool house . My mother gave birth to me in that house, in a dark cold room one rainy day in June in 1984. It is the same room where she was born too. This house still has a cowshed, although no cow. The worlds best view from the roof top. And i hated it , from the bottom of my heart. I hated every second , every minute i spent there stuck with my siblings and young cousins, I hated doing the chores, holiday home work, no cable TV...
I would KILL... now to spend one quite summer in the same house. To be the same age again, my cousins as young, my sister equally mean, with the house chores and the holiday homework. I would kill... :(
A life wasted, an entire lifetime lived asleep. I always had this silly belief in self That I was worth more somehow That I mattered That I wasn’t the kind that gets lost in the vast M everyday Every hour Every minute The M claims many That I wasn’t one of them for sure I was so sure So God damn sure Now A little ashamed Very busy Dying slowly Every day No coffee Only cigarettes No tears of regret But A never-ending ache Bombay Delhi Pondicherry Manali Tehri I looked for it It Is Not Real It Does Not Exist I was a fool Forgive me If Possible Give me the gift of ignorance Make me Numb Cold Make It Easy Forgive me please I beg you Make me Comfortable Unthinking Mute Cold Make me Inconsequential Like Cigarettes Disliked immediately Yet Dismissed As easily.
I find missing children, or put better, all lost children come to me and vice versa. I have found (or have they found me) 8 lost children in the last 5 years. that is more than 1 kid per year.
And i find them every where. on bus stops, in airports, on beaches, streets, trains, outside coffee shops, trade fairs, shopping malls, in parks...
As we drove to the airport at the ungodly hour of 4.45 am in the morning , your father and i chased you in the car , we literally chased you. I bet he has never driven faster.
then you left , gave a bad going away speech to the little one with the camera and when we were coming back and he was dropping another me to the domestic airport , he asked me to lean over and see if i could see your plane in the hanger. I said i could ( i couldn't) and then he looked straight at the road.
Its unfortunate when we grow up. We are all really bad investments. We all want to leave or must leave at one point or the other. You chose to leave. More power to you. I want to leave. More power to me too. But must we? I know you were dying slowly in Delhi and that of all the people in the world you deserved to leave and may you have a fruitful stay. you and i weren't going to cry and we knew it,but even your mother didn't cry like i thought she would, she made friends with your grandma and they sat helplessly on the side. Your Father paced up and down for no reason , the little one and i stuck our faces to the non reflective glass , but couldn't see inside. You were gone... sad... but what the fuck!
Have a good time, study if you can, see the world, own it, win it and then come back. You'll be missed dearly in certain quaters.
Its been happening all over, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. But it is possible; we are all too self indulgent to notice what has been going around us.
I was reading the newspaper; it was a Wednesday so I was hoping for an Indian express but it was all out, so ended up buying Asian age.Some VHP hooligans beat up this pastor in Jaipur. Just like that. For no apparent reason. But then again can the reason be anymore apparent. Then there was this guy in Gujarat who was killed by some ATS men for allegedly trying to kill Narendra Modi (since when has that become a crime I ask) and then this little girl of 13 in west Bengal was made to dance before middle aged perverts by her own parents. Arjun Singh is F****** with education. 2050 is when south Bombay and the gateway with it may finally see its watery grave. And on top of it all Junior B got married with a vulgar pomp and show (nobody really wanted to know about it as badly as the news channels covered it you know).
It is all going wrong. Every thing is falling apart. The center cannot hold! Save us. I am often disturbed by theses things. To the extent of going into long silences. If you are not, then go to a shrink, there is no excuse for being indifferent towards your environment, also there is no excuse for being disturbed and not doing anything about it and I am guilty of it. Just don’t know what to do. I am just so sick of all this. I hope to grow old in this world, I hope to have children and a family one day, I hope to live on, if not for ever then for as long as I can but not like this and not in this world. I am really a very positive person and I am not given to ranting about vague random shit, but the deal is that this is not vague and neither is it random, it is very clear and precise.
They are getting into our art schools and telling our painters that what they are painting is wrong and throwing them in jails, they are winning all over the country and sadly everyone else is the loser. They are hunting down writers and painters and film makers and photographers! They are killing art and throwing a beach party to celebrate the utter corruption and destruction that they have brought upon us. Its getting harder every day to convince myself that its not all that bad because I know that it is and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
I suddenly don’t want to write anymore so there… the point is getting lost, if you find it then keep it safe, maybe bring it to some use, maybe tell other people, or do whatever but do something. Please!
NOW ONE MIGHT WONDER WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, BUT PLEASE READ THIS, ITS UTTER NONSENSE! AND I LOVE IT!
WHY MY CANARY IS MADAGASCAR! OR BE MINE CATAUMET! (I THOROUGHLY ENJOY THESE SPAM MESSAGES)
"because they are mean is no reason why¡¡of their friends the night before may-day; and the girls had agreed to supply "it dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays
"because they are mean is no reason why "because they are mean is no reason why he spoke so kindly, shocked her so. she watched over his buttons with a vigilance that would have¡¡'this is a hospital for soldiers
'this is a hospital for soldiers¡¡behind the ribs of the skeleton, smiling and nodding in the gayest possible Paris, a very quiet wedding of course, for even in our happiness we didn't forget and make a good man of him yet. i know he's not spoilt, by the look in his poor
but mr. power is always glad to see whoever cares to come," replied christie plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the road again," remarked "to hear is to obey," seized with a strong desire to send something to the fair. in fact, all sorts¡¡"she didn't. i suspected, and now i know,"
head upon its stick, enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage¡¡is absent template is not cowardly to flee temptation, and nobody whose opinion is worth having the blue bench to imitate the motion of white jenny.
head and heart safe and happy with wholesome duties, useful studies, myself to fate, and, remembering that bread was called the staff of you think it isn't very bad of me, and i'd like to know what my gift that filled it to overflowing. miss cameron understood, felt that¡¡"may i use it?" asked dorothy, eagerly.
burn nicely. we'll have a grand bonfire, and see them blaze up, won't¡¡fame nevertheless." and rose did not look as thankful as she ought. try to be true to you and to myself. oh, believe it, and pity me as don, who lay near his kennel resting a moment after one of the restless
i do for you?" a strange dog was sitting sweet girl, glancing at her own fine neck. beneficiary whenever i go to a bookstore. and the feeling will forever¡¡"my¡¡remain here, even after we leave, as we do in a week. when i last in a way to make him more manly and serious."
you can be idle and comfort yourselves by being idle and trying to "why patient to assist in small operations, as he considered them, and nan had left her hat as usual, mrs. bhaer went out to get it. but¡¡so people can see what the prospect is of a good crop for the next generation,"
paper to see the page beneath. "i shall, because along the road of yellow brick. when she had gone several miles she thought myra when you see who has come. don't never let me catch you coming into¡¡sire's firmness of character, we won't call it obstinacy, and when he made¡¡and a new pair of scissors shining on the table. there was a sort of charm
shaggy head appeared, followed by a wolf-skin rug for her feet, a bear-skin so the "scenes from the life of washington" were i shall not have to try it again."
Name: Anvita Thapliyal Home: Mumbai, Maharashtra, India About Me: Faced with the impossibility of traveling silently,
she decides to take up
the word once again . See my complete profile
