Reader's Block.
No, seriously. I've been a bookworm the last 21 years, and I've never had such a dry spell before. I absolutely cannot survive without reading a book a week. At the most, a month. Right now, I have some six books i haven't read yet. I have the time, it's just that i can't bring myself to. It's crazy! I started reading Oscar and Lucinda ages ago, stopped at chapter 12 or so, then started with Good Omens only to realize that Pratchett and Gaiman's combined humour really does go over my head. Then I started with Millennium Three: The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest. Thought a thriller would break the jinx. But no. I think I need to do some light reading, find some frilly, romantic book to get back now.
This really sucks.
March 20, 2011
March 14, 2011
shooting raindrops at the sun
This shield of vapour,
That refuses to unfog
Not unlike this petty heart
That just will not unclog.
Placid at times, and painless
It almost fools me, does
When the kindly cloak, happiness
Turns shadowy echoes to rust.
If madness is what it will be
I pray, spare me the fate
Sanity weighs down heavier
And that's all i can take.
And then on days like this,
With raindrops kissing the skylight
All i can do is raise my eyes
And drink in the sight.
And just like that i know
It can be more ways than one
There's someone i see outside
Shooting raindrops at the sun.
That refuses to unfog
Not unlike this petty heart
That just will not unclog.
Placid at times, and painless
It almost fools me, does
When the kindly cloak, happiness
Turns shadowy echoes to rust.
If madness is what it will be
I pray, spare me the fate
Sanity weighs down heavier
And that's all i can take.
And then on days like this,
With raindrops kissing the skylight
All i can do is raise my eyes
And drink in the sight.
And just like that i know
It can be more ways than one
There's someone i see outside
Shooting raindrops at the sun.
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March 5, 2011
Quiet Desperation
I agree with Woody Allen. Life would've been a lot more fun in reverse. I mean, who wants to start with innocence and die a cynic. Well, not all of us ...but I sure seem to be doing it. I'm fighting it all the way, and trying to hide the despair I feel. My friend refuses to believe me when I tell her that I'm becoming a cynic. She laughs at me, says it's impossible. Well. Whatever.
Y'day, while talking to a teamie with whom I have a lot in common(surprising, because I admire her a lot) I learnt that she thought of herself as a failed idealist. I nodded my head, told her I understood because I am one too. I was a passionate person once upon a time. I was the person Wordsworth described in Tintern Abbey. I have always loved the woods, I've wanted to build myself a log-cabin somewhere deep in the woods, and just stay there, away from the crowd. The deep,dark woods evoke something primitive in me, and even today, as I sit in an apartment I know that is where I really want to be.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
(Sylvia Plath. Her poems, though depressing, are mighty cool.)
Y'day, while talking to a teamie with whom I have a lot in common(surprising, because I admire her a lot) I learnt that she thought of herself as a failed idealist. I nodded my head, told her I understood because I am one too. I was a passionate person once upon a time. I was the person Wordsworth described in Tintern Abbey. I have always loved the woods, I've wanted to build myself a log-cabin somewhere deep in the woods, and just stay there, away from the crowd. The deep,dark woods evoke something primitive in me, and even today, as I sit in an apartment I know that is where I really want to be.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
(Sylvia Plath. Her poems, though depressing, are mighty cool.)
February 17, 2011
Watch how she laughs
Like she owns the wind
And the stars that hide their face
In the brilliance of the sun.
She laughs
Even when dark takes over
Rips away, her cloak of fervour.
She waits for the moon
To lure the waves
Stands soulless, over the cliffs.
And when you look away
She drops her mask
And she silently, falls.
Like she owns the wind
And the stars that hide their face
In the brilliance of the sun.
She laughs
Even when dark takes over
Rips away, her cloak of fervour.
She waits for the moon
To lure the waves
Stands soulless, over the cliffs.
And when you look away
She drops her mask
And she silently, falls.
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February 15, 2011
February 13, 2011
Me?
So, i was having this weird conversation with a teammate the other day.
Of late, i've noticed that i totally enjoy crude humour and guffaw at silly pointless PJs, with the guys. Also the fact that whenever one of the guys read something interesting/lame, they just know that i'll enjoy it too.
See, the thing is, i'm a girly girl. Sappy commercials make me cry, my best friends are all girls and i hardly have any close guy friends. Just one or two i'm very close to. I'm not one of those girls who feels comfortable hanging around with guys. And yet, i find that i'm a buddy to MOST of my guy friends. In that i've played agony aunt, relationship advisor(huh!), mediator of sorts.
So, i was telling my teammate how i've totally changed from being a prude, in that i can stomach lame guy-like jokes now. Smugly, i tell him that it's a good thing. To which he responds, NO. His NO is more vehement than that of my other cubemates. Girls, obviously!
Drat.
And i thought i was broadening my horizons. People like the lamer version better.
Can't help it though. It's not like i wanted to change. I'm just going with it, and enjoying every moment.
:)
Of late, i've noticed that i totally enjoy crude humour and guffaw at silly pointless PJs, with the guys. Also the fact that whenever one of the guys read something interesting/lame, they just know that i'll enjoy it too.
See, the thing is, i'm a girly girl. Sappy commercials make me cry, my best friends are all girls and i hardly have any close guy friends. Just one or two i'm very close to. I'm not one of those girls who feels comfortable hanging around with guys. And yet, i find that i'm a buddy to MOST of my guy friends. In that i've played agony aunt, relationship advisor(huh!), mediator of sorts.
So, i was telling my teammate how i've totally changed from being a prude, in that i can stomach lame guy-like jokes now. Smugly, i tell him that it's a good thing. To which he responds, NO. His NO is more vehement than that of my other cubemates. Girls, obviously!
Drat.
And i thought i was broadening my horizons. People like the lamer version better.
Can't help it though. It's not like i wanted to change. I'm just going with it, and enjoying every moment.
:)
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February 3, 2011
Lying in Halves
'You will not leave?'
'No, i won't.'
'Not even if i close my eyes, or stop calling your name?'
'Not even if you forget me'
His gaze held hers, steady, unflickering unlike the candle that lit the room.
She looked out, and saw that it was still dark. It had been so for days, weeks, months while she had stayed inside with him. The room seemed lifeless. Her eyes bloodshot, she looked at him, wanting to be reassured again.
'Not even if i lie,or stop talking to you?'
He smiled, and nodded his head. He looked pale, paler than ever. She could read the sadness in his eyes. And she smiled as the shadows danced on the wall. She sang softly, of all the dreams she'd kept from him for she knew this was it. He listened and held her close as darkness shrouded them.
She couldn't open her eyes; it hurt, it hurt real bad. When she did, she found herself alone. She fumbled in the dark and instinctively knew.Despite all his promises, he had gone away. She had kept sleep at bay all these nights,because she knew he was a liar. She could make out the candlestub, and the unmade bed. Books all over the floor. His books.
She didn't feel quite steady on her feet; it had been days since she'd even walked across the room. But with every step she took, she felt a little stronger. She could breathe now, and even as the memories swam in front of her eyes, she walked.
She was awake now. For the first time in days. She didn't want the darkness any longer. She drew back the curtains, and suddenly light flooded her room. Her world had been black for so long, she flinched as light filled her being. She could've sworn it was still midnight. But strangely, her world was awash with light. She held her hand against the light, to shield her eyes and found that the mark around her ring finger had all but faded away.
She couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears blurred her vision as she softly murmured 'Liar'.
'No, i won't.'
'Not even if i close my eyes, or stop calling your name?'
'Not even if you forget me'
His gaze held hers, steady, unflickering unlike the candle that lit the room.
She looked out, and saw that it was still dark. It had been so for days, weeks, months while she had stayed inside with him. The room seemed lifeless. Her eyes bloodshot, she looked at him, wanting to be reassured again.
'Not even if i lie,or stop talking to you?'
He smiled, and nodded his head. He looked pale, paler than ever. She could read the sadness in his eyes. And she smiled as the shadows danced on the wall. She sang softly, of all the dreams she'd kept from him for she knew this was it. He listened and held her close as darkness shrouded them.
She couldn't open her eyes; it hurt, it hurt real bad. When she did, she found herself alone. She fumbled in the dark and instinctively knew.Despite all his promises, he had gone away. She had kept sleep at bay all these nights,because she knew he was a liar. She could make out the candlestub, and the unmade bed. Books all over the floor. His books.
She didn't feel quite steady on her feet; it had been days since she'd even walked across the room. But with every step she took, she felt a little stronger. She could breathe now, and even as the memories swam in front of her eyes, she walked.
She was awake now. For the first time in days. She didn't want the darkness any longer. She drew back the curtains, and suddenly light flooded her room. Her world had been black for so long, she flinched as light filled her being. She could've sworn it was still midnight. But strangely, her world was awash with light. She held her hand against the light, to shield her eyes and found that the mark around her ring finger had all but faded away.
She couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears blurred her vision as she softly murmured 'Liar'.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5
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