Boring does as boring is

Log in to gmail. Log in to Net banking. Log in to each of the 3 accounts. Change password. Why? Cos its 'time'. Log in to Facebook. No one ever messages or scraps me. Neither do I have interesting status messages that invite comments. Pretend to have something to do there. Log out. Come to office. Log in to gmail. Chat offline. Decide to email songs for some reason. Patiently email an entire album. One after the other. Song after song. Its 1130 by now. Shit! Need to work. But.... after finishing sending the songs.

Log in to facebook. Log into netbanking... to check if the new password works. Open google documents.... just to check. Then close. Check out random people on facebook. Nothing interesting. Leave it open. Click on every bookmark saved. Nothing new. Log in to blog. Check for new posts. Nothing new. Read some of the old ones. Sign out. Sign in again. LEAVE IT OPEN. Why? Just. Just in case.

Just in case what? Nothing.. just, just in case.

Hmm..... maybe I should try twitter now....

Bang on...

The thing is...

See. Like he says,

The thing is…

The thing is. The thing is that,

It’s all done now. Almost.

To use a popular phrase,

It is but, a matter of when

And not if.

So, the rest doesn’t matter.

You went out,

Laughed a little, dimpled,

Even burned a few ends,

But, smile…

It’s all done now.

The social rituals,

They came in handy

When it was something you

Felt you lacked.

But then again, they

Were just that.

Aberrations on the particles

You actually contained.

Heady sways and, a penchant

For the unstable apart,

The familiar measuredness

Of everyday hard work,

Can now be smelt again,

On your fingertips,

And on the ones you hold.

I know you haven’t

Forgotten the claustrophobia.

Sandwiched between,

The then unknown,

Deluded giggles of others,

And your own stillness.

I know, even now,

A certain turn of phrase,

Air-lifts you backwards,

To a certain mood, you

Learned to hate, and

Wanted to fire, with

A palm-held flame,

But didn’t… and didn’t

Let go of the singed ends

For a while after.

I know, that somewhere

Despite your self-critical

Mistrust for words, you

Learnt that to live, is

To operate within

The confines of our

Shared vocabulary.

And that it was alright

To make the most of it,

And accept with a smile

Some of the salutations that

Came on their own.

Self created image, always

Tangented off that of

The Others. And sometimes,

Did too good a job of it.

But… the thing is…

The thing is, Suchitra,

It’s done. And now

There will be more reflected image,

Than ripple. More crisp

Fragrant brown, peppered

With the stubble of everydayness

Than smoke filled substitutes

For independence.

So the thing is, Suchitra,

The pages in the unwritten

Pocket diary are almost over.

Its now time, to arm yourself

With brown paper scrapbooks,

And to ensure that

None of the scraps henceforth

Will be missed.

While listening to 'Fuck You' by Lilly Allen..

Sometime, in the last week or so, shuffling between bumbling buffoondom and self-righteous indignation, I decided to go bald. And ended up getting as close to bald as possible without putting an end to my personal life.

Its probably a little too late, short haired rebellion at 26 IS..well.. ever so slightly, sad. But I couldn't help it. Besides, I told myself, I save a lot on conditioner... this, of course, after having spent a cool 2k on expensive herbal conditioner produced in the UK with Indian products like henna and shit. Anyway, it isn't like it has a shelf life... and so we move on. Apparently I almost made the day of the owner of Perfect Men's Hair Saloon... almost, cos I couldn't afford the head massage he so eagerly offered to give me. But that was only because he charged me 80 rupees while I'm sure he charges everyone else 40. Anyway, I walked out feeling atleast a couple if kilos lighter. Not to mention, for some inane reason, slimmer and taller.

Bombay doesn't ever let go. Always springs back onto you... like shadows on clockwork. And its within a couple of weeks sandwiched inside expensive weekends... that you might find the space to breathe.

I've started running recently. Its all forgiving.. except on your shins. The best part about it is no matter what the emotion welling up inside, it will wear your body down... till your mind is worn down... to singular thought.. breathe, gasp, stop, wince, breathe... continue. I love it. Doesn't cost a dime.

So, almost bald, almost light, almost thin and almost solvent it is. For a while to come.

Seriously...

Do your boring lives a favour... read THIS:

http://writebadlywell.blogspot.com/2009/10/use-as-many-adjectives-as-you-can.html

Up-ped. Or not.

Its been a while since I watched UP. But for some odd reason, I'm unable to get my mind off the movie. Not sure if its what the movie made me feel or the starkly contrasting views of others... but for some reason, the movie made me feel inadequate.

Up, I followed until a little over the middle of the story. I loved the imagination, the characters and everything about the movie. Starting off as a simple sweet story of 2 kids and their wild adventures, the story suddenly forces you to grow up somewhere in the middle. The house uprooting itself and taking off was one of the best moments in the movie, as expected of course. And the idea of taking all of his memories along with him to fulfil the ONE promise that was the basis of the life he created with his wife was fabulous. But the moment I realised it was also about fear of change and consequently exposing the hypocrisy of his supposed hunger for adventure… it just scared me. I think I slunk in under, somewhere between the shadow cast by the low flying house and the ground. The bright stark colours of the balloons, the talking dog and the fat Asian lonely kid… everything just seemed to curdle something inside me. And the metaphor became as weighty inside me as the animation suggested on screen. I actually took off the 3D glasses for a moment…. cos I couldn’t stomach it, but it just reminded me of life without glasses.

I’ve discussed this movie with others. I’ve heard them say that its about the struggle of change and accepting and learning to let go… and its about finding friendship in adversity, and human nature and re-growing roots, about re-discovering friendship and learning the true spirit of adventure. I get all of it. And maybe you are right. But for some reason, I got stuck at the weighty metaphor. and I cant get it out of my head. I don’t know if its because I see a part of myself in it. Or because it sounds frightfully similar to a loved one… but whatever the reason is, it depressed me.

All I know is that now, animation as a genre is something I will think before watching again. There is something unpalatable about animation now… possibly because I assumed it would be about simple happy light stories.. a lil bit of humour and excellent creativity. Getting enmeshed into the plot of the story was something I didn’t bargain for… and UP had me leave a part of me in it and come back. Cos I didn’t really see the ending… I just watched blindly.

I called the movie dark after watching it.. but that’s not it. It isn’t dark like Japanese animation dark… its… just… a little too grown up for me. It’s a sort of mature I don’t want to see. Somewhere between the old man’s angered vulnerability… and the obese innocence of the child… I found myself in a very uncomfortable place… like stuck between 2 people in an auto ride and constantly figuring out whether you want to sit back or in front… or like when you get elbowed throughout dinner.

Anyway… I’m done talking. Have you watched UP? What did you think of the movie?

Uh..

How does one prove,
That one is never really ready,
To change the only way they knew,
And did,
While reason pointed the other way,
Because one was fighting something else,
That is deceptively protective,
And in truth,
Defensively walled in.

Holding on to literal metaphors,
Was the only way,
To hold on to 'truant' thoughts,
Because who ever really knows,
When it began
And where she will end,
And it wasn't until
Unknowingly
She flicked out the lens,
To accomodate a new one,
And saw herself clarify,
Crystallise,
And feel
Contradictorily,
At home
Yet free.

This new layer
Is intriguing.
It asks for the entire
Paradigm to change
And yet is so poignantly
Easy, that one
Wants to slide in
In jerks and stops,
Just to ensure
That the slide is better
Remembered and better
Enjoyed for posterity.

Didn't know, that
"Take what is mine without
Asking",
Is unfamilarly
Familiarising,
Rather than
Uncomfortably invading.

Peeling off
Takes some asking,
But it happens
And lets your vision
Breathe.

Perhaps the only way to explain something as irrational as throwing your contact lenses out to accomodate another's is to elevate it to something more poetic. Pfft!