NOT HAPPENING

It’s so tough to let go. Of all the memories that assault you when you hit places that uve been together to. Of past conversations that hit you when you least expect them to. When you are so happy one moment and the next you have tears flowing down because the music reminded you of a note you sang together. Because you were so used to being together. That one moment you are hopping from shop to shop, pub to pub with your friends and one minute while sharing a smoke you get arrested by the memory of something he said.
Everything you do is to jump back to being the rockstar you used to be. An array of pursuers behind you and each one of them pisses you off for no fault of there own. The thought of being with someone else itself is revolting. Didn’t you know that you were the one?

Sometimes it’s like watching the same dream again and again, each time with a different conclusion, depending on your own fancy. Following a rigid routine at work doesn’t help matters one bit.

Tripping !

Floating in my head are the times we spent sitting at the college back gate on a cold delhi morning. All of us huddled together and sipping on chai that the hostel guy would get for us. Discussing last night’s exploits, Ira and lectures that we planned to miss on the pretext of rehearsals. And then Puja would shoot a Dylan song in the air while all of us listened and made fun of each other, at the same time . Anu and I joined forces against the self proclaimed retard, Ambika and the rest would start thrashing me, with words like Pseudo, chappal rebel resonating in the air. All we cared about was catching concerts, plays and movie festivals happening in the city. Gorging on street food came a close second. Ours was a world saperate from the rest. 15 girls cooped on one spot at the backgate while the rest buzzed by, stopped to tie their shoe laces or disappearing into the hostel dhaba to emerge in the next few seconds, armed with chai and samosas, briskly walking towards their classrooms. The slow life, the nice life, the life that was punctuated by inanimate hours on the bed, dreaming and listening to music after a hard, hard day. I spoke too many lies to protect my moments. Ditched plans, made up stories, got hated and then got hated a little more.

hell guys i miss you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!
and my li'l Room, you too!

what the fuck

no love.
no hurt.
no dues to pay.
no answers to give.

one day at podar centre

let me go
let me go
i have cramps
lemme go

damn good piece of wisdom
let me goooooooooo


I'm jus a lil girl
nobody loves me
she's jus a little girl from a pretty family
save me this time from this monstrosity
easy come easy go
will you lemme go?

dickhead: bismillah, no, i will not let you go!
copygirl: lemme go!

you jus think you can brief me and leave me to dieee

you jus think you can crack jokes and leave me to cryyy

oooh baibeeh

gotta hear me out baibeeehh

jus gotta get out
jus gotta get right outta heree!!!

the P word

working. learning. enjoying.

learning most of all. ofcourse, learning stuff related to copy etc. but also about people and politics.
They say be careful what you say and in front of whom. yeah, okay, you know that's not too tough. but it's a kind of given that you know stuff like this. Obviously, i have let out a few things unwittingly in front of an audience not perfect for such candidness.

Hell. i couldn't give a damn beyond posting this. All you people out there, please don't give a fuck about what to say. There's nothing like time and place, nothing more important than standing by your word and if somebody tries sabotaging your case, well, all I'd say is, if god has endowed you with guts, hopefully he also made you clever enough to shoot the man right back where it hurts the most.Laugh and rest.

keep green.