Friday, December 26, 2003

He said to me,
‘Every time I look into the mirror I see
The thinning hair, the bald patch on my head.
Every time I shave I see
The wrinkled skin of my neck
Every time I write I see
The white hair on my wrist.
I am growing old’
He said it matter-of-factly
The most special man in my life
The man I shall love the most
The man who always did everything right
But when he said this he broke my heart.
When he had held my little finger
And he had walked me my first steps
He should have told me then
That he will one day, silently walk away
And let me wander alone.
How could you Papa, break so easily
The promise that I thought you had made
That you’d be with me forever?

Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Ever walked in the clouds? High up in the mountains. And when the clouds lifted did you realize that you had been walking unknowingly towards the cliff. Another step and you would have been hurling fast into a deep dark bottomless pit.
The clouds seem to have lifted and I am left wondering whether I should walk on, into the pit that I was headed for, or should I turn back, to my valley of comfort.

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Why would the canteen guy call me (me being a mature and sensible adult) baby?
Just leave me alone to rot in my self-made hell.

Tuesday, December 16, 2003

Do you feel like you’re drowning? Has your life become an ocean, endless and without a support to cling on to? Do you feel the need of a companion who keeps you afloat even in the toughest of storms?

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Friday, December 12, 2003

I saw a signage for a women’s clinic yesterday, which said

Beams? Why beams? That got me thinking. Some of my theories:
§ The doctor beams at the patients when he treats them
§ The nurses do a beam-dance (like a pole-dance) in the clinic
§ The women are tied up to beams when treated
§ The check-ups are done in beams of light
§ The clinic people live in the beams or perhaps the entire clinic is set on the beams
§ They give the beam-treatment: audio-beams, light-beams, etc
§ The mode of payment is using a beam (and the rest of the balance as well) – give as much money as the weight of medicines subscribed
§ The doctors are like Spidermen and keep crawling up and down from the beams in the ceilings

More theories are welcome.
Life is a bundle of contradictions and my dogs exemplify it.
§ Snoopy is a glutton and eats anything (edible or inedible) but he will not eat over-ripe, undercooked, over-cooked or burnt food.
§ Whoopy loves water and getting wet in the rain but hates having a bath.
§ Both of them hate the heat and will always sleep under the fan but love sunning themselves even on the hottest of days.
§ When Whoopy had kids she was all lovey-dovey and motherly but the moment we gave the pups more attention than her she’d get all jealous and angry.

Monday, December 08, 2003

Its almost twelve in the night and I am still at work. What does one do when going back to an empty house is not a better option?
It seems like I am raging a war. Who will be my hero? Bear the flag and win the battle. For I have lost the will and strength to fight. I am sinking into the ground as the sun sets in the distance.
The best way to start the week:
A sleepless Sunday night and a screaming Client first thing in the morning.

Friday, December 05, 2003

Life is like a series of rooms, each room different from the other, consisting of doors in varied shapes and size. Each door leading to another room and each door with a handle only on one side. Once you press the handle and enter a room there’s no turning back.
No second chances, just another set of doors.
Huddled under the torn canopy
Of one the many shops that are lined
In the dirty dingy street that I live on,
He leaned back against the thin tin shutters
Wrapped tightly in a blanket thick
Heedless of the humid heat of the late evening.
Huge black rats scurried around him
Pitter-pattering as they played energetic games
In the dim street light and the shadows of darkness
Teasing him as they brushed past his blanket.
But he slept on, uncaring, like a little baby
Enveloped in the discomfort of his thick blanket.
And I, hidden in the dark, watched him silently
From behind the bars of my fifth-floor bedroom window.
Unable to sleep in the comfort of my bed
Envious of his placid slumber in the street.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003


A contest like never before. Get cracking. Get innovative. Get wild.

In less than 100 words, send in your entry for ‘The best way to kill oneself’. Your idea should be easy to implement, not expensive, with no major aftermaths apart from the consequences of suicide, painless and dignified.

The winner will get my entire collection of CDs. Ever-increasing, the CD collection now stands at over 150 CDs. Covering mostly Rock Music, this is a collection to die for.

Please Note:
Only one entry per contestant will be entertained.
The decision of the judges will be final.
The organizer of the contest will automatically have the copyrights to the ideas sent in.
The winner shall be given a prize only when his/her idea is implemented.