Snooze days

4 am  : alarm snoozed

4:10 am : another snooze

5 am : I jump out of bed, horror?  Nah !

6 am : Last part of 'Dawes and Young plan' and I'm jumping again...not horror but some sorta joy

7 am : class snooz mode

7:15 am : wide awake, trying to write ' M' of 'Macro-economics effects'
still in the process waking up

9:15 am : back to snooze mode

9:30 am : wide awake, this time....it's MATH and RAT : P

12.30 pm : snooze mode again , for 20 minutes

1 pm : finishing up some work, wishing for more time to happen

* runs into a chair * " ugh sorry !"

yeah, too much stress

4pm : *sigh*  classes over

4:30 pm : in bed, 3 hour snooze ..yay ! : P

The Exam Schedule

I lay on the couch, all relaxed. Trying to adjust to the weird coffee after taste from the 'finest' Brazillian coffee.
Ehh! it felt like, coffee fermentation
My West African coco beans are better : P
Before I could complete my laid back 'yawn' , a mail pops up

" EXAM SCHEDULE"
And I already have a freaked out expression
it's too early for such an email

AFTER I SEE THE SCHEDULE :

5 weeks ????
 25 papers ????
MUMMMYYYYYY !!!!!

Ruined Christmas Break - Ugh !!

The Inheritance of Loss

“Could fulfillment ever be felt as deeply as loss? Romantically she decided that love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfillment, in the lack, not the contentment. Love was the ache, the anticipation, the retreat, everything around it but the emotion itself.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“All day, the colors had been those of dusk, mist moving like a water creature across the great flanks of mountains possessed of ocean shadows and depths.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“A man wasn't equal to an animal, not one particle of him. Human life was stinking corrupt, and meanwhile there were beautiful creatures who lived with delicacy on the earth without doing anyone harm. "We should be dying." the judge almost wept.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“Jemu watched his father disappear. He didn't throw the coconut and he didn't cry. Never again would he know love for another human being that wasn't adulterated by another, contradictory emotion.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“Why couldn't she be part of that family? rent a room in someone else's life.”

 

“But so fluid a thing was love.It wasn't firm,he was learning, it wasn't a scripture;it was a wobbliness that lent itself to betrayal,taking the mold of whatever he poured he poured it into.And in fact,it was difficult to keep from pouring it into numerous vessels.It could be used for all kinds of purposes....He wished it were a constraint.It was truly beginning to frighten him.”
― Kiran Desai

 

“Saeed quickly found employment at a Banana Republic, where he would sell to urban sophisticates the black turtleneck of the season, in a shop whose name was synonymous with colonial exploitation and the rapacious ruin of the third world.”
― Kiran Desai

 

“No human had ever seen an adult giant squid alive, and though they had eyes as big as apples to scope the dark of the ocean, theirs was a solitude so profound they might never encounter another of their tribe...Could fulfilment ever be felt as deeply as loss? Romantically she decided that love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfilment, in the lack, not the contentment. Love was the ache, the anticipation, the retreat, everything around it but the emotion itself.”
― Kiran Desai

 

“He seemed unaware of what was going on, stared out without hope or ambition, without worry, developing a quality devoid of qualities to get him through this life.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“What is this all about,' asked Sai, but her mouth couldn't address her ear in the tumult; her mind couldn't talk to her heart. 'Shame on myself,' she said...Who was she...she with her self-importance, her demand for happiness, yelling it at fate, at the deaf heavens, screaming for her joy to be brought forth..?

How dare...How dare you not...

Why shouldn't I have...How dare...I deserve...Her small greedy soul...Her tantrums and fits...Her mean tears...Her crying, enough for all the sadness in the world, was only for herself. Life wasn't single in its purpose...or even its direction...The simplicity of what she'd been taught wouldn't hold. Never again could she think there was but one narrative and that this narrative belonged only to herself, that she might create her own tiny happiness and live safely within it.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“How could anything be the same? The red of blood lay over the market road in slick pools mingled with a yellow spread of dal someone must have brought in anticipation of a picnic after the parade, and there were flies on it, left behind odd slippers, and a sad pair of broken spectacles, even a tooth. It was rather like the government warning about safety that appeared in the cinema before the movie with the image of a man cycling to work, a poor man but with a wife who loved him, and she had sent his lunch with him in a tiffin container; then came a blowing of horns and small, desperate cycle tinkle, and a messy blur clearing into the silent still image of a spread of food mingled with blood. Those mismatched colors, domesticity shuffled with death, sureness running into the unexpected, kindness replaced by the image of violence, always made the cook feel like throwing up and weeping both together.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“He wasn't a bad person. He didn't want to fight. The trouble was that he'd tried to be part of the larger questions, tried to become part of politics and history. Happiness had a smaller location, though this wasn't something to flaunt, of course; very few would stand up and announce, 'Actually, I'm a coward,' but his timidity might be disguised, well, in a perfectly ordinary existence situated between meek contours...Cowardice needed its facade, its reasoning, like anything else if it was to be his life's principle. Contentment is no easy matter. One had to situate it cannily, camoflauge it, pretend it was something else.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

Year by year, his life wasn't amounting to anything at all...And yet, another part of him had expanded: his self-consciousness, his self-pity -- oh, the tediousness of it...Shouldn't he return to a life where he might slice his own importance, to where he might relinquish this overrated control over his own destiny and perhaps be subtracted from its determination altogether? He might even experience that greatest luxury of not noticing himself at all.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“All of the third-world flights docked here, families waiting days for their connections, squatting on the floor in big bacterial clumps, and it was a long trek to where the European-North American travelers came and went, making those brisk, no-nonsense flights with extra leg-room and private TV, whizzing over for a single meeting in such a manner that it was truly hard to imagine they were shitting-peeing, bleeding-weeping humans at all. Silk and cashmere, bleached teeth, Prozac, laptops, and a sandwich for their lunch named the Milano.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“He knew what his father thought: that immigration, so often presented as a heroic act, could just as easily be the opposite; that it was cowardice that led many to America; fear marked the journey, not bravery; a cockroachy desire to scuttle to where you never saw poverty, not really, never had to suffer a tug to your conscience; where you never heard the demands of servants, beggars, bankrupt relatives, and where your generosity would never be openly claimed; where by merely looking after your wife-child-dog-yard you could feel virtuous. Experience the relief of being an unknown transplant to the locals and hide the perspective granted by journey. Ohio was the first place he loved, for there at last he had been able to acquire poise --”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

This way of leaving your family for work had condemned them over several generations to have their hearts always in other places, their minds thinking about people elsewhere; they could never be in a single existence at one time. How wonderful it was going to be to have things otherwise.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“But while the residents were shocked by the violence, they were also often surprised by the mundaneness of it all. Discovered the extent of perversity the heart is capable of as they sat at home with nothing to do, and found that it was possible, faced with the stench of unimaginable evil, for a human being to grow bored, yawn, be absorbed by the problem of a missing sock, by neighborly irritations, to feel hunger skipping like a little mouse inside a tummy and return, once again, to the pressing matter of what to eat...There they were, the most commonplace of them, those quite mismatched with the larger-than-life questions, caught up in the mythic battles of past vs. present, justice vs. injustice -- the most ordinary swept up in extraordinary hatred, because extraordinary hatred was, after all, a commonplace event,”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“But then, how could you have any self-respect knowing that you didn't believe in anything exactly? How did you embrace what was yours if you didn't leave something for it? How did you create a life of meaning and pride?”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

“When he died, I went about like a ragged crow telling strangers, "My father died, my father died." My indiscretion embarrassed me, but I could not help it. Without my father on his Delhi rooftop, why was I here? Without him there, why should I go back? Without that ache between us, what was I made of?”
― Kiran Desai

“Don't be scared, puppy dog, little frog, little duck, duckie dog. It's just rain.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“A journey once begun, has no end”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

They were falling back into familiarity, into common ground, into the dirty gray. Just ordinary humans in ordinary opaque boiled-egg light, without grace, without revelation, composite of contradictions, easy principles, arguing about what they half believed in or even what they didn't believe in at all, desiring comfort as much as raw austerity, authenticity as much as playacting, desiring coziness of family as much as to abandon it forever. Cheese and chocolate they wanted, but also to kick all these bloody foreign things out. A wild daring love...but also a rice and dal love blessed by the unexciting feel of everyday, its surprises safely enmeshed in something solidly familiar...Every single contradiction history or opportunity might make available to them, every contradiction they were heir to, they desired. But only as much, of course, as they desired purity and a lack of contradiction.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“The fact was that one was left empty-handed. There was no system to soothe the unfairness of things; justice was without scope; it might snag the stealer of chickens, but great evasive crimes would have to be dismissed because, if identified and netted, they would bring down the entire structure of so-called civilization. For crimes that took place in the monstrous dealings between nations, for crimes that took place in those intimate spaces between two people without a witness...”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

 

“He tried to keep on the right side of power, tried to be loyal to so many things that he himself couldn't tell which one of his selves was the authentic, if any.”
― Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss

― Kiran Desai, Inheritance Of Loss

 

Random-ish

“If someone thinks that peace and love are just a cliche that must have been left behind in the 60s, that's a problem. Peace and love are eternal.”
― John Lennon

“If someone thinks that peace and love are just a cliche that must have been left behind in the 60s, that's a problem. Peace and love are eternal.”
― John Lennon

“I'm not going to change the way I look or the way I feel to conform to anything. I've always been a freak. So I've been a freak all my life and I have to live with that, you know. I'm one of those people.”
― John Lennon

 

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.”
― John Lennon

 

“When you're drowning you don't think, "I would be incredibly pleased if someone would notice I'm drowning and come and rescue me." You just scream.”
― John Lennon

 

“Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
They call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Sounds of laughter shades of love are
Ringing through my open ears inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a
Million suns, and calls me on and on
Across the universe”
― John Lennon

 

“Make your own dream.

That's the Beatles' story, isn't it? That's Yoko's story, that's what I'm saying now. Produce your own dream. If you want to save Peru, go save Peru. It's quite possible to do anything, but not to put it on the leaders and the parking meters. Don't expect Jimmy Carter or Ronald Reagan or John Lennon or Yoko Ono or Bob Dylan or Jesus Christ to come and do it for you. You have to do it yourself.

That's what the great masters and mistresses have been saying ever since time began. They can point the way, leave signposts and little instructions in various books that are now called holy and worshipped for the cover of the book and not for what it says, but the instructions are all there for all to see, have always been and always will be.

There's nothing new under the sun. All the roads lead to Rome. And people cannot provide it for you. I can't wake you up. You can wake you up. I can't cure you. You can cure you.”
― John Lennon

 

“There are places I'll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all”
― John Lennon

 

 

If you talk about all these beautiful things on earth, then probably you must know that you dont live on earth anymore. You live in a 'fairyland' . To be honest, realistic life hurts a lot and it never does change much. it's the sickest , fugliest thing I could quote.

"Effort is the demon. Our conscious planning and effort to direct the graceful ribbon of smoke, backfires and all we are left with, is a room filled with smoke all around. We endlessly throw our hands around, and corrupt the elegance. The shapes which could have rendered imagination are degraded to dust that chokes the throat and blinds the vision.
Let life lead the way. Go with the flow, intoxicated and unafraid.
One practical way through this philosophy is to start living with the notion of eternity in this form. With this very mind. Imagine that this never ends, this state of your mind; unless you change it. You have your gods inside you.
Gradually with time and with small loving efforts, align yourself with the direction along which you’ll find your inner peace. The one thing that you cannot get enough of. Ever. Tenderly, with the same gentle efforts, start working on your masterpiece. Not what the world deems as something, but your heart. The thing that gushes joy into your veins. There is no hurry. Take all your time. Never compromise on its class and Quality, by your own eyes. Don’t even let ‘practicality’ touch it. Die for it, if you have to. More importantly, live for it.

: : :
i was once having another of our much relished discussions with Anand Vardhan, when he pointed out how animals, seemingly ‘dumb’ were the ultimate practitioners of Zen. They live the moment, eat when they eat, sleep when they sleep. They just are!
We, in our ignorance dispel this, saying: ”But they don’t have water geysers and computers and food silos and rails. They don’t have airplanes, and Google and all this comfort.”
So?
You are always with yourself. Forever watched. You know all your jokes, all your tricks all your ‘guess-what-happened’ incidents. You’ve witnessed all your romances, all your betrayals and all embarrassments. You know bloody EVERYTHING about you.

Jesse: “It’s just usually it’s myself that I wish I could get away from. Seriously, think about this. I have never been anywhere that I haven’t been. I’ve never had a kiss when I wasn’t one of the kissers. Y’know, I’ve never, um, gone to the movies, when I wasn’t there in the audience. I’ve never been out bowling, if I wasn’t there, y’know making some stupid joke. I think that’s why so many people hate themselves. Seriously, it’s just they are sick to death of being around themselves. Let’s say that you and I were together all the time, then you’d start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. Or, uh, the way I’d tell the same stupid pseudo-intellectual story again, and again. Y’see, I’ve heard all those stories. So of course I’m sick of myself.”
~Before Sunrise.

And then you remember, but faintly the treasured moments that took your breath away. When time ‘flew past’, and hours ticked away with every passing minute. Those were the moments when you were in the present tense.
Certain events, things and people push us onto the moment. They saddle us up on the ‘horse’. You won’t remember the incident in postcard detail. In fact, you don’t. You can never be certain about how many you’ve had. And their depths. You don’t know and never will.
This is no tragedy.
Emerson elegantly summarized that Man, is but a God in ruins.
Memories are algae that stick to our rotten skins when we cease to be Gods. It is not permanent. You wouldn’t know it.  Nirvana leaves no trace."
- Abhishek Tiwari

Initially, this man would convince me and I would read this and be so stuck to it , that it became reality. The reality, I practiced. Sooner or later, my tears over flowed, emotion subsided and I was at the verge of shattering by the minute.It would be funny to say 'I fell in love' when I quoted it as the stupidest thing that existed, hated it and could never respect it nor take care of it. I was bad. Very bad . I still am, I guess.
The overflow became flood and it dried, took away - me !
 Distraction was nothing, it was the same thing in another costume. I became so numb in it, maybe for the first time, I could hate something. Did i ?
Furniture then became the'object' with emotions who could listen and understand, who could give me hugs and let me put my head in their lap and cry a little without making me realize that I was wrong. Soft pillows were where I could sob and yet be hugged for long long hours. It felt divine sometimes and then terrible - only to realize how saddist it was to hug objects not humans.
Coke was like alchol. Sleep was divine. Studying was work, it was the new found thing to do.now I knew, how typically and terribly I was breaking apart.
It would be an understatment to say, I was beautiful . It would a style statement to say I liked who I used to be and might be. It would be fatal to say, I was living. I wasn't really living, I was just breathing and doing things like some trained robot or dog.
I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not.

I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Beatles and Marilyn Monroe and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen - I believe that people are perfectable, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkled lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women.

I believe that the future sucks and yet I believe that the future rocks.I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating .I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste.

I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like martians in War of the Worlds.

I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman.

I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.

I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.

I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too.

I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system.

I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.However, I cant believe in relationships,in love and in innocence any longer. It ruins my innocence.

Ruffles

Can we ever understand what goes on between two people on the inside ?

Can there be any better place to see your money unless, it's your closet and it hangs right there ?

Are we still the era of ' me and you, just us two' ?

In her neat uncounciousness, she lay in soft egyptian covers, in some beauty of her own or shall I say poise?

Yeah! the true forward tradionalist like me can often have these questions on my mind, no matter how wise I become or how stupid this world may get. I finally understood what true love meant...love meant that you care for another person's happiness more than your own, no matter how painful the choices you face might be. Then you gotta be like that breez in love, always around.
You gotta be the 'hybrid' of all the females in one man's life .
When you're struggling with something, look at all the people around you and realize that every single person you see is struggling with something, and to them, it's just as hard as what you're going through.
Sometimes, that makes you feel better or maybe it just makes the 'struggle' sound easier than is was.

“I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved. I am not sure that you are of the same mind. But the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave. This is the world of light and speech, and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.”
― George Eliot

To kill a Mocking Bird

In old jewish stories, I hear a lot about dybuks and sometimes I wish it happened in today's world too. Yeah ! the REAL world we live in - emotionless, bitchy, sick and tiring. Where happiness is money and relationships are mere resonsibilities to be over with and shut them off. I'm in a complete dwaal. Because every man;regardless old or young have become so earnest over the table that 'I' sound like an idiot or some tumblr bitch. Stupidly frivolous stuff eh? maybe then !
it's stupid thing to sometimes even think of, however it does come to mind and disrupts the perfect flow of thoughts . It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
sometimes, this whole issue is so sickening that i'd just be thank for for being alive, not learning, not learning a little, not being sick but just Alive. As if i've become some saint and have become aggresively saint-ish.


"not my daughter, you bitch" he said in all rage,and left.
"she is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her"
you used to say that before you knew she was a young lady, wiser in a way you never imagined.
PS:Not intended to be derisive.Just an ironical perspective on maddening male idiosyncrasies. No need to outrage.

“Atticus Finch: I remember when my daddy gave me that gun. He told me that I should never point it at anything in the house; and that he'd rather I'd shoot at tin cans in the backyard. But he said that sooner or later he supposed the temptation to go after birds would be too much, and that I could shoot all the blue jays I wanted - if I could hit 'em; but to remember it was a sin to kill a mockingbird”
― Harper Lee

Swallow her innocence
hallow her serene felt
turn her silent, she can't be outrageous. It will ruin your day
kill the mocking bird or, don't
bully her to silence
Do it, or shut the fuck up !


I'm a modern woman.A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.
speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial!


I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless.


I discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature. I discovered that I am not disciplined out of virtue but as a reaction to my negligence, that I appear generous in order to conceal my meanness, that I pass myself off as prudent because I am evil-minded, that I am conciliatory in order not to succumb to my repressed rage, that I am punctual only to hide how little I care about other people’s time. I learned, in short, that love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac.

Maybe I should shut up now, because I feel guilty when I make you realizr that you lost the 'war' !

Soul Mates

SOUL MATES ! yeah it sounds like another romantic bitchy shit from a female like me who never does write about other stuff, other than love ! So here it is, my personal favourite on LIFE AS IT IS .
The question is - to be or not to be ?
the soulution - there's no such thing as that 'stupid' question. To do things is to just do them and care less about the concequence. Who knows what u might come across.
The question is- Do i ?  I Do !
The solution is - there's no such question in choosing between the lines. Just shut ur eyes and say the first thing that comes to ur mind after hearing urself say - I do !
gradually, life does teach you to get out of the mess, no matter how terrible it gets.

Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it. It's not much of an issue to deal with them then . Mistakes are what make our fate...without them, who'd I be ? or you either .What would shape our lives then, won't it be boring enough like some used fag. Maybe if we had never veered off course we wouldn't be who we are. After all, things change, so do cities, people come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart.

So Back to where I wanted to start , the STRESS BUSTER THINGI (forgive the typo please, i can't concenterate on too many things)

Desserts are best stress busters  - BULLSHIT ! seriously it's not .No matter how hard you going to 'TRY' to get over the 'DIRTY' feeling, it wont go. you have to let it be and have to 'SAY' or rather 'SCREAM' - 'I'm GOING TO LET IT GO RIGHT NOW'

Talking helps - Please spare me the horror but talking doesnt help if u talk to sensible people. U've to talk to the most annoying person and still be calm. The magic happens then, the feeling goes away.

Maybe you could do something - diet ? workout? creative things?  NAH! won't help . Nothing will if you dont let it be . As Abhishek Tiwari says it for a woman

"That unforgiving feeling of sudden spinelessness.

You feel heavy, and want to give it all up and sink into the earth.

When the eyes burn like acid, and tears make it all the more worse.

The shrill ring in your ears, breaching silence; that just doesn’t fade away.

The weariness that anchors you like lead at the ocean bed.

The grey webs endlessly fall from the roof above and envelope you silently, no matter how much you run around. They begin to bog you down in an unknown weight. Everything uttered by you gets muffled up in the spaces between. Your throat burning screams are, but a silent hum on the outside.

Your urge to run a hundred miles is crisply shattered by the fact that your body gives up after a few. You reach the dreaded limits of your heart. You run till you taste the mud. It is undiluted agony all over. Physical burnouts fail to drop a pin, restlessness is pumped in your head; like ever.

The state of the dead with null ECG lines becomes your most revered aspiration.

You never really sleep, and you never really are awake.

The colossal dawning that your fondest memories were mere illusions. By your Mind, for your Mind. You have no past to reach out for a breath. The future ahead: plain monotonous.

Sleep fails to take you away from You. You are face to face with a rotting you.  In a box.

External stimulus fails to penetrate one layer of your skin. All attempts to the world outside are gracefully smothered.  Staring your sullen face. Death is no respite. Death is a higher ambition.

Every thought inside you echoes with a sour metallic tinge to it. Like a mild electric shock. A certain curdled smell inducing vomit. All the time.

The insane impulse to bleed it away. The unanswered beg for a momentary lapse of reason.

There is only one dream worth having. To live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead.
~Roy.

The paradox that proves them to be nothing but illusions. When you don’t have them to cling upon. Your Memories.

When you, witness the soul shaped hole inside of you. The melancholy of loss.

That absolute hollowness in your veins, when you realize that she never was."

Stop craving for things and stop carving them on mind walls, it will never do any good. It's better to let the brook find it's way . Some people are settling, some shall settle and some aren't ready to settle for anything less than butterflies.
Every scratch, every twig entangled into the spokes, every missing bolt from the bicycle has its own little ‘insignificant’ story. Innocently staring all those who oversee it for Bigger things in life.
Something in us, something pathetically middle class scares us from scars. We like our things Clean, and New. And Shiny.

"Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion. "
Democritus

I want you any way I can get you. Not because you’re beautiful or clever or kind or adorable, although devil knows you’re all those things. I want you because there’s no one else like you, and I don’t ever want to start a day without seeing you - you're the soulmate to self, nobody else . Not even the shadow of yourself.
It would be a SIN !

Leela

She lay silently, like some dead woman or something . Her eyes shut, her face calm like never before and the soft hair that moved around her shoulders as she was changed into another hospital attire - something light blue, as if she were a baby boy . Then her 'amma' came in, opened her 'box' and adorned her darling.
She put a bright red dot on her forehead, between her brows and a small dot on her forhead again but somewhere near the hairline, in the center.
She looked like a dot monster for a minute, then like an indian the next moment. She looked beautiful.In that dwelling house, her presence was missing...it was felt.
where was leela?

6 months ago :

" Neena, i can't find my shirt ? the blue one ! "
" Stop screaming, i've ironed it and it's on the bed with ur trousers . Get out of that bathroom now !"

Neena Verma, a depressingly gorgeous female from the suburbs of Mumbai, a HR head at Infosys and Perfect wife. She lacked nothing, she was beautiful, charming,caring et all

whereas, Rohan Verma, Neena's beloved hubby was a totaly dependent over his wife. His day wouldn't start without calling her for every little thing. It was funny for a well established man to do so yet, some kids never grow.

" thanks honey, what would i do without u "
' yeah yeah! come quick! we gotta leave in 10 minutes"
she smiled and called him for morning snack before they could both leave for work

After 10 hours :
 Neena and Rohan entered the house in a washed out state. Rohan collapsed on the couch and Neena went it to get some water.
" Rohan, get up . I'm famished. I can't cook, I'm really tired . "
" okay , let's change and go ? "
" no ! move right now"
In the after -a long day -look , they went out for dinner.

Before the dinner could happen :

'Cross quick, dont be a bum !
i'm going ....come fasshht !
okay now i'm really going '
and she walked towards the crossing

' Neen...NEENA !' Rohan screamed in horror, his charm who just was about to cross the road had been injured and twisted by a speeding car

6 months Later :
Her book released, she was famous author now .
But, was she?
Or was she a lay woman on a random bed
Not chirping anymore !
of the incomplete dinner night , till today ?
a vegetable, is it ?

-> death and desire are unknown parasites, they come and go .
save her laughter
save her innocence
she's ur serenity
she'll go one day and you will miss her more than u can think !