What i want

Please don't go.............

:( :)

a group of friends

class time fun

teases and laughs

'intersting pen'

friendship pacts

signed and torn

comes a new year

comes new surprises

silence and no chatter

a quest to know why

a piece of paper

alphanumerals scattered

'it's not from,me,but him'

says the messesnger

alone inside my room

upon my study table

time,time again

i try to make sense

one new method tried

and it all fell to places

'***** ***** ******'

a lump inside my throat

butterflies inside my tummy

what do i do now?

what shall i say now?

pretended i didnt know

pretended i didnt care

until that fateful day

my friends tried to say

then i had to say

that i knew it too

but right now i dont want

all this silly stuff

let us both be friends

let us both grow up

let us stand on our own legs

and let us then decide

it took a lot of coaxing

to get him to talk to me

but then with time

the best of help

we grew to be good friends

and then to best of friends

and then,my best(est) friend

inaugerating pens

letters in old notebooks

words written in blood

poems and quotations.

walks to tuition class

waits till i go back

drenched in the rain

feelings unspoken

fights in between

always solved by friends

trys to move apart

but always comes together

when new people came

when new loves blossomed

the old 'friendship' couldnt resist

to see it silently

denied being jealous,

but jealousy was all

untill i had to go and say

i felt the same too.

but time cahnges people

time changes things

my bird was not the same

i'll never get the same

together the journey went on

with rough moments now and then

passions grew stronger

they expressed

egos too, may be

and they too.

the next separation was

for me the worst by far.

no one can get it

not even him

and so the distance's far

tried to be close still

but somehow didnt work

had to part our ways

a year of solid silence

talks are now not real

and when real ,not right

lives have twisted,tangled

lets not get them mangled

memories just come

when we least expect

a song,a sight,a note

is all that it takes

Penning down thoughts

'Get a life' said my friend as he hung up the phone.

Life?Would you mind telling me where you are taking me?

Around this time,four years back,and all through out the three darkest,lowest years of my life,i was sad. but i had a wish,a dream a hope. Though i lost manythings,many people and that someone special, i still had something that kept me strong,something that made me work hard and 'achieve my dream'.

It involved me. Just me. I didn't need anybody else. Lej is right-'don't trust anybody'.I was glad that i was going away. I was going farther and probably higher than most of my friends. And as i was going,i found someone else.

Did i want all of that again? Well, i had thought i didn't but it looks like i did. Yes.I wanted love.

Now i'm here,right where i wanted,doing what i wanted, but am i making the most of it? May be dad's right. I'm just looking for excuses not to do things. While in hell i said i wouldnt send anything i write to get published coz i didnt want that place's name 2 be attached to me in anyway. Now i'm here and i don't have TIME?

What do i think of the most part of my day? What do i wish for and hope for these days? Why am i not doing all those things i should be doing?

Everyday i go for my walk .I feel the breeze kissing my face,caressing my hair.Everything around me looks green,yellow,brown,orange,pink and red.All vibrant and looking at me lovingly. Ilook up at the sky and get amazed each day by the colours, patterns and the majesty. I hear the music i like and i feel good. And i get pregnant with ideas and thoughts and an urge to get them all out in paper,in words,in a cam, in colours...

But they never see the world. It's like i'm too weak to let them out.

Ranting in here helps.Coz i know that this is just my digital diary and not a blog.And writing here helps.

I'm not writing in my old diaries which i had to burn. I'm not writing in those later versions with the locks. I'm not writing in that one last one where i wrote with inkless pen on a 'used' sheet again and again and again. This is my space, for me. Just me.

Now

I wanted to write about love today. I don't know wat everyone else thinks about it. For me it is a special feeling,way about everything else. I wanted to write about how happy it makes you,to make someone else happy, how special it feels , to know that there is someone who cares a lot about you,and you feel the same about that person,how good you'd feel to have someone to whom you can talk any crazy thing that comes into your mind coz that person loves you for what you are...about how it can make you do things you'll never even dream of doing.

It is a funny feeling.It can make you change the way you do things, your liking for certain things...But right now what i can write is ,it hurts. It hurts when you just want to scream to the world about how happy you are about your love and its not a mutual feeling. It hurts when you want to tell him how happy the last time 2gether was when he does not say a word. It hurts when you just look at the chatbox and the phone to blink,but it doesnt.

It's a sad,scary,loneley feeling then.

Miaw

'Miaw....Meeeeeeeeeeyaw....'

The poor little kitty is lost, wandering in the girls' hostel searching for its mom and siblings.And i know realize that i love cats more than dogs.I love animals. And birds.Mostly anything that does not have eight legs. And i have a cat and a dog back home.I always thought i loved them the same but ,no.The furry 'purr' ball is my favorite.

I've had cats,kittens as far as i can remember. There was an old 'kadan' whon we called just that.Then came Bubbloo with his total milky white hair and blue eyes.Sundari was my lil baby.If my brother hadn't whacked on her head with that stick, she'd have stayed on for longer...I so hated him then. Katmandu and Tinker Bells came together. They were siblings. So Katmandu was my stupid brother's and Tinku was mine. Katmandu's original name was Kadamani. Katmandu was just a western sounding nick name. He was such a biiiiig cat. Cute. But not pretty as my lean Tinku.

Tinku and i used to have such a nice time together. Back then, I had this craze of growing a watermelon garden in a couple of little pots.Yes, the seeds would sprout,a little sapling would grow,the brown tip with the seed would go and it'll be green, it'll open up, tiny leaves would come,and thats it. End of another generation of saplings. But i'd 'sow' more.

Tinku used to be my companion when i tended to my 'watermelon farm'.She would come with me, lie down in the sunny patches, and scrath stuff. A funny thing about Tinku was that she licked me! She wasn't a dog! And i could really play with her. I'd prop her up the ledge near our well and poke on her paw. And she'd try to poke me back on my hand. And no, she never took those claws out while we played.

My stupid neighbours kept poisoned meat to kill the dogs which were eating their chicken but Tinku ate it. And she was gone.

Next was Binku. Binker Tells. His tail was as thin as a rat's. Usually , all our cats traditionally have thick, fluffy tails. His tail was thin and it was as if he had a joint in the tail. He could make it appear broken. He cared for that old female cat a lot....she used to come around our house, poor lone thing and our Binku would keep her company. Played with her, didnt mind her skin disease....the poor old cat was devoted to him i guess. It was sad to see her come and mew for him after he was gone.

Now we have Chinku. He was the only one who dared to come outside the paper bundles in my dad's shed .And for that, he is alive. well, not just alive.He eats 2 fish in the morning. Even if we get no fish 2 eat, he gets it every day. And after the fish he needs a big bowl of milk. After filling his big tummy with the fish(he leaves the bones and d head. Such a cultured cat...),he goes to the woodden swing in the living room. And sleeps on it.

He was having a royal life here when he started having this interest in the female cats in the vicinity. The number of kittens here started increasing.And so did his fights with the other tom cats. Now everyday he comes home with a new scar or without a patch of fur on his skin. Idiot.He likes to go for walks for a few days. But he'll be back right in time for food.

He has a new friend to play with now. Minju. Rukmini chechi calls her( we just found out she was a he but i'll call her minju.) Manikutty.She's a cute little thing. Always playful, always moving about. She's grown longer than the last time i saw her.My little minju.

Now as i hear the mews of the kitten in the hostel i miss her. I miss stroking my cats on their forehead. Sneaking them on to the bed.Seeing them sleep so innocently on me keeping the 'purr' motor on....And i now know that i love cats better.

An apology

I wore a mask while i was with you

I was rude, selfish, in my shell.

I never let you near 'real' me.

I dampened your joyful spirits.

I pretended your inexistance.

I made up stories,miserable.

Never a word about your love

that put smiles even in Hell.

Lonliness was a choice- mine.

And i blamed it on all but me.

I was there,in your midst

just to put you guys off.

An apology here makes no change,

i know but still i say:

'I'm sorry for all that i did

and more for all i didn't'

I Need It...

My teeth are stained reddish violet.I long to suck more of that liquid.I can't stop myself.I need more.I dip the icy chunk again and again into the dark liquid and suck it hard.And within a few minutes, that Kalakhatta is also over.

'Can i borrow twenty bucks, plz?' i ask any familiar face around coz i've finished all the money on me already. Now for my favorite- Panipuri.

There are a few sacks full of the puris in the stall and near it are the vessels filled with the tastiest, tangiest liquids ever concocted. And a bit of the aloo and whatever it is mix.

I get my paper bowl.

'Teeka or medium?'

'Medium'

A hole is cracked on my first puri, in it goes to the sweet and sour tamarind water which is thick and gooey, and now it takes a dip into the less viscous green hot thingy and he holds it out to me.

As i put it in my mouth there is a burst of various tastes tingling my tastebuds. There are crisp bits of the puri and a mouthfull of tasty water and before i can savor the taste of each part of it separately,i am handed out the next one. And the next...And so it goes. It doesnt even take two minutes for my twenty bucks to depart from me in this process. But thats just one amongst all the other 20 Rs notes that have gone away from me. Including the one today.

I crave for it these days. Usually my cravings are for chicken in any form, so long as it is dead and not bloody. But this little round goblet of exploding tastes have won my heart over now.There are no city trips for me now,which does not include a plate(or two or three or more) of panipuri. May be i'm full with a pizza from Pizza hut, a happy meal from Mc Donalds, a nice dosa from Vaishali, paneer and romali roti from good luck or a sub from subway....i need my panipuri.

This post ends here with my stating again that i love panipuri. A lot.