xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

“I've grown tired of love
You are the trouble with me
I watch you walk right by”

-Anne Sexton.

The mesmerizing cat eyed woman. I read her when I was fourteen and I just wouldn't forget. 

Hyderabad as of 20th May 7.00 pm

I called a friend to go chamleon hunting together, they flutter about here and there around the campus searching for a new lease of life. I think I will name them. Storm swallowed the heat like a flimsy pill. I haven't written in ages, only this time i do not have the time to do so. I got a new skin, did I tell you? Its amber and hides the angst I carry around in my bag. My bag's red though.
The dog : black, stained brown. He sits astonishingly erect when the sky grows glum. 
And he's always looking for something, so am I.
Oh yeah and there are people around here. Whatever. xoxoxo

,.,.,.,

In my loneliness I read the world
and in my passion I ate it.

Star and I

She has her eyes closed and he looks up to heaven and neither of them notice the grass is on fire - Jeanette Winterson 'Sexing the Cherry'

You are half asleep and suddenly you wish you aren't. The hours gnaw at you. The dogs are barking, stirring up a racket and the half moon shines with unusal madness. The barking grows louder and louder until it grows on you, propelling you to get out of bed and now here you are pressing your nose against the cold sheen of the glass, hanging by the window to see what the hubbub's all about.

The dogs are out in numbers - wolfish and savage. Apparently a newbie wandered into the forbidden area.

Was he (the dog) crazy? Yes it would have to be a 'he' and now go on call me a sexist.

Anyway they corner him now, those bitches ready to tear into him. There is no stopping them. Maybe he'd put up a fight, maybe he'd not. Come morning he would lie in a pool of his own blood not ready to forgive himself as yet.

You don't care. All you care about is that you're missing a pillow. Like a dream you walk straight back to bed. You feel a tickle at the back of your neck where your hair stand upright and the day's only a few hours away.

A breaking thread moment.

I dwell on these, I've been told not to dwell on these by the wise ones I know. I am not the sort to carry advice on my sleeve. I am all about proving people wrong. People and people alike. Self realization - a very basic human notion has been slighted by us - phantoms of fortune. Call me old school, but I am all about bringing it back.

xoxo.

This Woman's work..

Writing Tharoor off came easy and yet we hardly seem to bring to consequence the work of this woman, who leaves behind a crunchingly distasteful legacy of darkness and stone. Estimates of what she might have spent on her beloved statues add up to a whopping 80 crore (including expenses for security and maintenance)

 But the irony of the fact is she hasn't generated enough funds to initiate the Right to Education Act. Yet after being mauled by some bitter criticism she veiled her reluctance to do so by holding the Centre responsible for the implementation of the act.

But apart from everything else one prime clincher that takes us a step further in adjudging her failure as a leader is the absolute lack of compassion. Her refusal to provide for any sort of compensation to the debilitated families of the CRPF jawans who were the unfortunate victims of the Dantewada massacre, while she adorned herself with a multi crore garland  (and diamonds sometime back) is nothing short of appalling.

The goodwill ensconcing the heart of a politician (a leader nonetheless ) has a few obligations if nothing else.

So while we analyze the demise of Tharoor's political career and his foot in the mouth social blunders or Chidambaran's adamant ego that broke down as he tearfully tendered his resignation after owning up to the Dantewada tragedy spare a thought to India's very own army of inglorious politicians who bask loud and clear in the country's backyard and keep getting elected over and over for the years to come, refuting the very possibility of change that there is - that there has to be.

I stop right here, saving us the suspended consequence of our inaction and ignorance amidst a cloud of blatant hypocrisy that persists.

Donald Barthelme

But have you noticed the slight curl at the end of Sam II 's mouth, when he looks at you? It means that he didn't want you to name him Sam II, for one thing, and for two other things it means that he has a sawed-off in his left pant leg, and a baling hook in his right pant leg, and is ready to kill you with either one of them, given the opportunity. The father is taken aback. What he usually says in such a confrontation is,"I changed your diapers for you, little snot." This is not the right thing to say. First, it is not true (mothers change nine diapers out of ten) and second it instantly reminds Sam II what he is mad about. He is mad about being small when you were big, but no, that's not it, he is mad about about being helpless when you were powerful, but no, not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it, he is insane becasue when he loved you, you didn't notice.

- The dead father.