Caution : What you could come across in the process.

Insignificant references to my life, an abstract and distracted thought sequel, monotony, inconsistency, vague vague perception, whorish intellectualism, feminist bullshit, armchair activism, causes I try to relate to, sharp sarcasm, even sharper criticism, frivolous details.

Nonetheless Happy Reading.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Darwin was wrong, it was much more than survival that crawled through the pages of the book of existence.

1.I saw a lame man begging in front of a knee joint replacement centre. He was more than lame. The lowest part of his body consisted of his torso. But he carried it with much pride, the same pride that a high society lady would carry her pearl necklace with. And to think that the two can’t even be compared. But here in this country they can.
They can stand next to each other and co exist like a slum shack and a Mercedes benz showroom that I saw moments later.

2.What was really disturbing about that street urchin was the way he could squeeze himself out of the traffic amidst angrily glaring lights and venture out towards the lonely and darker side of the city. This I have assumed could only come with grief. A sustainable kind of grief. But grief as such was hard to tell on his already damaged yet content and serviceable body. He carried a poster of an over dressed woman probably a dancer and kept shuffling it between his skinny dirt beneath the nail hands. He walked carelessly yet professionally avoiding gravel,stone and shit. Somewhere along the way when I suppose he’d thought he’d walked too much he dropped the poster right in the middle of the street and detoured his way through the nearby lane and left me wondering why he carried the poster all along the way when he was bound to abandon it. He headed towards the parked cars and peered in through each one of those misty glass windows to catch a glimpse of what lay inside that remarkable invention. He must have been eight – at the peak of his imagination while his feet held him sturdy beneath the ground of hope and desire.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

“Is that how long you take to tie your wrap around skirt?”
“Yea..I’m retarded”
“Been I need a new pen”
“I need a new bra”
Stops to look.. Continues writing. The virgin and the whore.
This is generally how our conversations surface on troubled water. Watch the details of everyday spring up, it always gives you something to laugh about.
Now thoroughly discarded I was a retard with a notebook. I sat through coffee shops and disgusting brownies and entire lonesome hours eating away at a notebook and swallowing my ego. I guess with the bigger things in life gone in the flash of a second I learnt to strive on smaller things.