DOUGH-NUTS...a farewell.

i have been strangely obsessed with doughnuts. i always was. as lovely as it is, for its love, for its search....i have voluntarily endured in me want of exercise, a worry-ing temperament for worry of the extra fats doughnuts cause. i have had a traumatic guilt rushing through my blood. not because i had one doughnut. but because i had doughnuts in series.
eventually, as i grew old with doughnuts, i developed a taste for it. the best doughnuts, the not so good ones and the ones which are fair enough to just satiate the greed.
as time passed by, everything was out of focus, because the focus was always on the best now. here comes another want i adopted. the want of travelling to the place where the doughnut is best.
life was at its best, but these worries have deprived me of my peace of mind.
now i will see the doughnut as just a doughnut, not worth a thought.

i hereby, renounce my greed and non-satiable want for doughnut. doughnuts...!!!

farewell, my dearest, excellent doughnut. may the lord shower upon you his countless endless blessings and save me, so that i can testify my love for you time and again.

to cut a long story short

Carnival of clouds_

Grasshoppers hopped in ordered choreography_________..

Anu came rushing to her room…
Painted walls and graffiti
Cheerful walls
Happy colours


Her watered eyes
Resentful voice under her heavy breath…
Turned off the “happy” music..
She threw herself into the bed

Sobbing…
Cheerlessly!

Her mother entered

A high profile portray
Cheerful and heavy diamonds all around..
Concealed wrinkles with the bliss of make-up kits.

Amidst the cheerful walls
N happy colours..
She couldn’t see the cheerless tears in her daughter’s eyes..
Bagged in some wet tissues_
Mom was off to a painting exhibition…
She wanted to make the walls

Look cheerful enough!

Food was kept for anu next to her bed
She covered the food_
Turned to call back her mom…

Glass panes..
Window sills…
The car, with mom made its way…

Grasshoppers hopped in ordered choreography_..

Wipers.
Tissues.
The painting n the mother returned.


Bang. Bang. Bang…
The door was shut from inside..

The gardener…
Broke the door open..

Pale face.
Wet tissues.
Blood and blades.

The body covered in a white sheet
Was dragged out in style.

The happy walls….
Stared!!!

The mother ran…
And grabbed the waterproof mascara.
With Tissues, she wiped her tired face_
The gardener stood still.
happy colours looked sad


Mom checked the mirror
Mascara was perfectly put!!

Covered food lay on the table..
Unnoticed…

Grasshoppers hopped…
in random choreography_____..

the painting cheered the wall…but,
The wall looked sad_

kalakaar

its a wednesday.
class started sharp at 8.40 as always..

theory class in a lab.
we sat.
gossips and anecdotes of previous day and future plans were being discussed.
time just passed so easily...we were joined in by another member who came inside the class sharp at 9.15
class gets over at 9.25.
punctuality knew no limits when it came to her.
we share her stories too.
all very happy.
maam decides to check everyone's register for some freaky solution of some freaky question.
4 of us look at the board and at each other, in parallel motion.
blank.
x,y,z,alpha,gamma,+,-....could'nt relate.
all so so lost.
now, my dear friend, a little bothered than others about her impression on teachers, starts scribbling something very seriously in her register with crinkled serious eyes!
zapped, we look at her_
not a clue of what she's doing!
i presumed she got the theory behind the question and started solving....genius indeed...speechless i was!
seeing her scribble seriously, ma'am thought she must be busy doing calculations.
thought its better to leave her undisturbed and turned away from the four of us.
four of us were saved _
after ma'am's departure, we snatched her register
..with hope,for help!!
our dear friend left us amazed!
she was scribbling one single expression (equation) for 5 minutes all over again!!
serious calculations indeed!!!!

it was smthng like:
ax+by+c=0
ax+by+c=o
ax+by+c=o
ax+by+c=o
ax+by+c=o
ax+by+c=o
.
.
.
.
.

*neat actress,must say*

my first successful song(lyrically). for shoili.

this is a song i wrote for shoili
that she can sing when she's "lonely"

when she next goes to drink some tea
she can pause, and think of me.

roses are red, nuts are brown.
skirts go up...PANTS GO DOWN!!

Runnin through the brush
In a quiet hush

I’m listening to the fray
Dont call me gay

If I really was straight,
Then why is it boys that I hate?

I like to drink
until my face turns pink

we are golden..aah
..we are g-o-l-d-e-n!!

schrodinger's the man,
i love andaa in the frying pan.

as i sit here in the tree
singing twee-dee-dee

i will never have a bad life
as i will never become a good wife !! (chorus)

we are silent.

the dry chapped hand

in search of food and can

its hunting hungry bright eyes

tiny little ones

naked and

tear brimmed eyes.

one side of the road

stands tall academic buildings

the other side,

just a 'silent cry'.

the one word

If I am a song

and you are a bird

How I long for just

one word,

To make you the one.

scared with tears

of hunger

of fear

crave for a smile

a hand to hold

a wish to be

like the other-half of the world

when i see you

the childhood in you

i look and try to find

the child

has no childhood inside its kind.

i dont make sense. i make non sense

I have a problem, a "symmetry-recognition" problem. (it is my own term because abha maam asked us to define our own terms in our own life).

In an effort to improve the way in which I differentiate between symmetrical / similar looking things, I am trying to be more vigilant with guessing.

One of the things I always seem to make a hash of, is the confusion between daaye and baaye / left and right, especially with the campus rickshawalas. Another top shot being, utla and seedha in case of tees I wear for 8.40 classes in the morning when I wake up late. The realization hits only when the rickshawala takes the wrong turn/ when the professor is teaching something really interesting and your concentration goes to a different level when your eyes grasp the attention of the should-not-be-seen-hem/tag of the tee.

I am not aiming for perfection,I like the stream flow of consciousness / ramble style of guessing that seems to come so naturally to me. At the moment, I am just confused about where to start perfect-ing myself from. Left or right, daaye ya baaye!?!.

May be daaye. That's right. There are no really wrong answers, just observations that

may or may not lead the conversation somewhere.

sound of silence

a room
silent,
i sit
i wait

for the silence to speak.

and when those hand
falls on it.

i wish you might ever do nothing,
but, break the silence for me.
and i can hear the sound

so golden, so strong !