Thursday, May 29, 2008

i got high last night. i mean seriously i got deriliously high! i hadnt done that in a long time and i had forgotten how it feels. oh it was the sort of feeling that you wish you could capture in a jar and store it, to use on one of those dreary days. or just when you feel like indulging yourself. what got me high you ask. well i will tell you. a movie! yes a screen act with people who went back to their messed up lives when the director shouted CUT! but for those close to 2 hours they made fly to the lion and the singing and grass, to narnia. there are some who will criticize me for being such a fan of soppy chick flicks but i will not apologise for it. i love them and i love the way they make me feel, and sometimes make me think. you are probably wondering what movie got me so strung up well, its Brownsugar! Taye Diggs, Sanaa Lathan, scorching! i have watched that movie three times but it still makes me hang on to every word, read every expression and tug at my heartstrings in the process.

Friday, May 23, 2008

someone once said (dont remember who and neither do i remember their exact words which dont matter anyway): nostalgia is when we look back at the past and fool ourselves that life was better then. i actually used to have the actual quotation pinned up somewhere but that was a long time ago. now i struggle to remember whether the author was correct, whether life was indeed better back then. well i do remember that i never had to worrry about a lot of stuff....no thats a lie. i did worry about the last time i wore an outfit, if someone would think it was the only one i had. i used to worry if that boy i had a crush had seen that i was wearing a new sweater, or if he sat on my good side in class. now that i think of it i remember something that i used to do. i liked to survey the classrooms and see which room he was studying in. i would then strategically sit opposite him. i would never talk to him or look in his direction (oh no heaven-forbid) but i would always make sure that my every action was deliberate and that he noticed it, how i held my pen and what book i was reading. at the end of it all the two hours prep period was a strain to my nerves and i was glad to then just slip away (after making sure that he watched me exit) and go to my dormitory to dream of him! oh how painful it was being young and infatuated.

but maybe life was better then because all of it was young, fresh and innocent. now you meet a guy and the moment he starts talking to you his eyes are dropping to below your neck. every word he says to you insinuates that he might like to sleep with you. you are saying one thing and all he can see is how your mouth curves when you laugh. i mean sheesh what happened to women being actual human being who have a brain that actually works on top of that cleveage. what happened to wanting to know what my favourite book is and whether i think that Obama or hillary will make it. when did women turn solely into an object of male fantasy i mean honestly!!!!

how? why? for what?

i get angry to think that someone takes it upon himself to kill another simply because they are of a different political persuasion or because they were born in a land that’s an extension of yours really. I am trying to put myself into the head of a human who has turned into an animal who feels that they should play God and clean up what they perceive to be a “mess”. I cant fathom it all, how do you beat up a person until their flesh is torn and falls off their body? How do you raise an axe and strike another person right in the middle of the head? Where are you eyes while you do this? Are your ears closed to the blood-curdling screams of the person you are attacking? How do you go home and wash the blood off your hands? And do you ever wear again the clothes that have been splattered by the blood of an innocent person?


It pains me that my fellow countrymen are being treated this way. those that remained here to fight for a change are being butchered in the middle of the day for daring to think differently. those that have gone beyond borders to try and earn a living are facing the same hand of wrath.
I want to understand if the normal faculties and empathy that an ordinary human being possesses cease at some point and their DNA changes altogether for a moment. I have always thought that serial killers have a psychological problem, and that random criminals have a motive be it stealing or whatever. But I am failing to understand how such a huge group of people is brain washed and made to have so much hatred and all for what purpose. I don’t see a personal significant gain to any of them.


Monday, May 5, 2008

Go back and search for it

It used to be behind the hostel, on a big rock that was kind of in the middle a jungle. an elevated rock with a magnificinent view. thats where it was, it sounded like a chirping bird, like the rustling of leaves, like the rock was breathing. but it was there, tucked safely away from prying eyes, away from wax-plugged ears that belonged to mouths which were ready to sneer.

then it moved. to the yellow fields, the bright vast fields. it was there in the sound of the wind, in the whispers it carried. it was free and liberated. and smelt oh so sweet. it was electrifying, satisfying but most importantly, it was mine. and mine alone. noone even knew it was there.

now i search for it, determinedly, desperately. but its not anywhere within sight. i know its there, i feel it in the rise and fall of my chest. i feel it in the itching of my fingers. i feel it in the urgent rush of my blood. but its elusive, playful, taunting me. i need to find it. i need to go back and search for it.