"You have ugly fingers for a girl. Actually for a human being."
"Your brain is ugly."
"Anyway what's your mom's maiden name?"
"D'Silva."
"And your dad's?"
"My dad's not a maiden."
"Sorry."
"You're weird."
"I'm falling for you."
"You're really weird."
"Slut."
"I hate you."
There's stranger relationships to be in than the one you're currently in.
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Why?
I stared down at my foot.
A blunt, dry twig had pierced through the skin at the top and now poked out the other side. Bright blood had risen and pooled around its girth where the skin had split. It looked like it should've hurt but it didn't.
I bent down and loosed the offender till it came free, a fascinatingly exact circular hole in its place. The torn film of skin had dissolved in the sanguine mess.
I stood back up to find A's horrified expression: "Are you..." she gulped, "...okay?"
"Yes, are YOU?" I spat back, slightly shocked at myself. Her wet eyes had irritated me more than they should have.
"We've got to get you to a doctor," she continued shakily, completely missing me. "This could turn septic."
"Just ask this guy where we'll find one," I told her, nodding towards the bored looking cashier of the chemist in front of us.
She hurried off and I turned around, hailed a taxi and left.
A blunt, dry twig had pierced through the skin at the top and now poked out the other side. Bright blood had risen and pooled around its girth where the skin had split. It looked like it should've hurt but it didn't.
I bent down and loosed the offender till it came free, a fascinatingly exact circular hole in its place. The torn film of skin had dissolved in the sanguine mess.
I stood back up to find A's horrified expression: "Are you..." she gulped, "...okay?"
"Yes, are YOU?" I spat back, slightly shocked at myself. Her wet eyes had irritated me more than they should have.
"We've got to get you to a doctor," she continued shakily, completely missing me. "This could turn septic."
"Just ask this guy where we'll find one," I told her, nodding towards the bored looking cashier of the chemist in front of us.
She hurried off and I turned around, hailed a taxi and left.
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Here today, gone today
I feel very worried and vexed lately and I blame it on love. Lately it has got me thinking, which if you've been in love, I don't need to tell you is a pretty rare occurrence.
I just think the emotion has become much too fashionable for me. Everyday I feel like it just gets that much more ephemeral, that much more conditional and that much easier to just snap.
I heard of a man who changed his mind overnight, about the woman he was to marry. 'Too screechy', he said and walked away unhurriedly.
Another one, the day he found a woman whose favourite book was his favourite book. "Her favourite book is my favourite book," he cried defensively, "you don't even read books!" And he too was gone.
The woman was certain she'd found the one. Very easy on the eye, loves her parakeet and made her autistic cousin smile. Then the sex happened. His saliva is too cold and he's not thorough, if you know what I mean.
I once decided I wasn't gung ho about a rather nice boy because his jokes were too obvious.
Like I said, love's gotten trendy. It has its own zip code and favourite brand of post-modern poetry and if you don't fit, you don't fit, sorry chappie, go get an upgrade.
D'you think it's the reason we don't hear of those terribly romantic woodcutter-weds-princess style stories anymore? I think we just threw up our hands at some point and let it all go to hell. Sameness is comforting, sameness doesn't need work and when you come home after a 9 hour day + 2 hours of fighting for standing space in the Thane Fast, and he wants to watch cricket and you want to watch Dexter, you're just through.
I just think the emotion has become much too fashionable for me. Everyday I feel like it just gets that much more ephemeral, that much more conditional and that much easier to just snap.
I heard of a man who changed his mind overnight, about the woman he was to marry. 'Too screechy', he said and walked away unhurriedly.
Another one, the day he found a woman whose favourite book was his favourite book. "Her favourite book is my favourite book," he cried defensively, "you don't even read books!" And he too was gone.
The woman was certain she'd found the one. Very easy on the eye, loves her parakeet and made her autistic cousin smile. Then the sex happened. His saliva is too cold and he's not thorough, if you know what I mean.
I once decided I wasn't gung ho about a rather nice boy because his jokes were too obvious.
Like I said, love's gotten trendy. It has its own zip code and favourite brand of post-modern poetry and if you don't fit, you don't fit, sorry chappie, go get an upgrade.
D'you think it's the reason we don't hear of those terribly romantic woodcutter-weds-princess style stories anymore? I think we just threw up our hands at some point and let it all go to hell. Sameness is comforting, sameness doesn't need work and when you come home after a 9 hour day + 2 hours of fighting for standing space in the Thane Fast, and he wants to watch cricket and you want to watch Dexter, you're just through.
Friday, 8 January 2010
Oh waily waily waily!
Is anyone else sick of how much I've been whining of late? I know I am. All this slippery emotional BS needs to stop. I am going to go back to being hardcore. If this was five years ago, at this point I'd have been done with sarcasm and moving on to irony already instead of breaking my bangles and wiping my nose with the dog's ear.I was perfectly okay with not being liked/ understood, etc as long as I got to say what I really truly meant. And when I didn't have anything to say I wouldn't. And it was nice. And simple. And cooler. Way cooler.
I read something very simple and straightforward by one of my favourite authors. It was something to this effect. He says that it doesn't matter to the universe whether we live or we die, whether we're good or evil, whether we have runny noses or whether we nicked that eraser way back in 2nd grade when that land whale Jodanna wasn't looking. We invented Mattering. We're the only ones who think we matter, we're the reason we're upset, proud, elitist, euphoric and so on and so forth. The world was here before us, and will continue to keep once we've unwittingly stepped into the street and been leveled by an oil tanker.
Liberating isn't it? Can you imagine a world where we died unto ourselves and therefore really, really lived for the first time? No wars, no heartbreak, no Paulo Coelho. What a beautiful thought.
I read something very simple and straightforward by one of my favourite authors. It was something to this effect. He says that it doesn't matter to the universe whether we live or we die, whether we're good or evil, whether we have runny noses or whether we nicked that eraser way back in 2nd grade when that land whale Jodanna wasn't looking. We invented Mattering. We're the only ones who think we matter, we're the reason we're upset, proud, elitist, euphoric and so on and so forth. The world was here before us, and will continue to keep once we've unwittingly stepped into the street and been leveled by an oil tanker.
Liberating isn't it? Can you imagine a world where we died unto ourselves and therefore really, really lived for the first time? No wars, no heartbreak, no Paulo Coelho. What a beautiful thought.
Thursday, 7 January 2010
My rebound relationship
I've realised that every time I'm really happy and occupied in my life, I stop updating this blog.
When I'm happy I have this feeling inside me of being very near the edge - a little too much goodness and I could keel over. It's this breathless, excited rush - I'm grinning all the time, letting all those doubts and niggles fall by the wayside. I am much too busy handling that happy explosion to get my thoughts in one line.
And when things fall apart, I come back here, tail between my legs, slightly sheepish and more than willing to spill my woes.
To come to it actually, I write most when I'm feeling badly which inhabits that cliche I've been shrinking away from years - I do not want to feel creative or expressive only when I'm miserable. Because I like writing and if the atmosphere that best brings that from me is maudlin, then I am doomed to be a very, very lonesome unhappy person indeed.
So to that end, the next time I feel euphoric, this blog is going to be my first stop. This is the year for breaking old cycles after all.
When I'm happy I have this feeling inside me of being very near the edge - a little too much goodness and I could keel over. It's this breathless, excited rush - I'm grinning all the time, letting all those doubts and niggles fall by the wayside. I am much too busy handling that happy explosion to get my thoughts in one line.
And when things fall apart, I come back here, tail between my legs, slightly sheepish and more than willing to spill my woes.
To come to it actually, I write most when I'm feeling badly which inhabits that cliche I've been shrinking away from years - I do not want to feel creative or expressive only when I'm miserable. Because I like writing and if the atmosphere that best brings that from me is maudlin, then I am doomed to be a very, very lonesome unhappy person indeed.
So to that end, the next time I feel euphoric, this blog is going to be my first stop. This is the year for breaking old cycles after all.
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
A few thoughts
To begin with, people who tell me I think too much. Usually you are people who don't think nearly enough. I'm carrying your assigned mental load, so instead of bitching about it, be grateful and buy me lots of beer. And you know when it comes to it, I like thinking. I enjoy thinking. I enjoy thinking so much I want to flirt with it, get drunk with it, make some stupid decisions with it, have an unplanned thought baby. So shut the hell up. Go back to your stupid dark little dingy rooms illuminated only by the wan light of your TV/comp/game console and the piddly dialogues you will then parrot with so much ownership, it's really quite frightening. You are usually the sort with precious little regard for consequence, accountability or other people. And you pat yourself on the back because you mistake it for spontaneity and single-mindedness never once realising what an absolute germ it makes you. The good bit is your stubborn unwillingness to think will protect you from your own douchebaggery. I guess it all works out in the end.
I'm thinking of starting a food blog. From a very early age, I knew eating was what I wanted to grow up to do. And chronicling it seems like the next level. I've begun taking pictures of food. Haven't managed enough though, because I have a huge SLR-style camera. Not SLR mind, SLR*style* camera. 'Why Gyuri, that sounds absolutely daft,' you say? Blind adoration will do that to you. All mental faculties shut down when you're smitten enough and you begin to think with your loins. Only the proven WORST state in which to make decisions. I have grown up since then (somewhat). Anyhoo the camera is large and I have retired it temporarily after the third time I got asked if I was with Mid-day. At my own office party. Yeah. Maybe I'll sell it and buy one of those tinier, sleek ones which totally don't suit my personality.
You may have had the mild discomfort of reading the post where I went all Bjork on New Year's. Well I am happy to report that I have a great support system in place, albeit one that will wring the 'sharing' out of you, but once you do that, they'll rally around you, all dead ringers for maternal hens, many online hugs and 'hmms'. Even the guys :D. These are some of the helpful suggestions I received:
- 'You're a strong woman with good looks, talent and a great personality. Are you really going to let someone make you feel this terrible? Think positive, send positive vibes into the universe. Sometimes *cough* takes a bit longer for some, but you will be happy.'
- 'If this is making you feel like shit, you have more problems than I originally thought.'
- 'Positive vibes. Take, listen to AR Rahman."
- 'Life's too short to date every nice guy you meet. And you still haven't made it past the a-holes.'
- 'HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH I'm sorry but Hhhahahhahahahhahaha he SAID that?! Dude that is awesome! That has to go up in your Hall of Rejection.'
- 'Positive vibes.'
- 'Jesus will never leave you.'
- 'Hello Leftover!!'
If I haven't said this before, I'll say it now. Books saved my life and continue to do so every day. When I am through enduring relentless support (I mean this in the nicest way possible :D), my books let me forget everything. My own life is suspended and the people in my books will walk that stretch of nonthingness for me. I am not one of those people whose books are covered with newspaper and are immaculate. All my books are dog-eared, discoloured and slightly tainted with drool. I have travelled with everyone of them and they're worse for the wear, having done what they were there to do - engulf and uplift the mind.
That's that.
If you have not heard New Slang by The Shins, you must.
I'm thinking of starting a food blog. From a very early age, I knew eating was what I wanted to grow up to do. And chronicling it seems like the next level. I've begun taking pictures of food. Haven't managed enough though, because I have a huge SLR-style camera. Not SLR mind, SLR*style* camera. 'Why Gyuri, that sounds absolutely daft,' you say? Blind adoration will do that to you. All mental faculties shut down when you're smitten enough and you begin to think with your loins. Only the proven WORST state in which to make decisions. I have grown up since then (somewhat). Anyhoo the camera is large and I have retired it temporarily after the third time I got asked if I was with Mid-day. At my own office party. Yeah. Maybe I'll sell it and buy one of those tinier, sleek ones which totally don't suit my personality.
You may have had the mild discomfort of reading the post where I went all Bjork on New Year's. Well I am happy to report that I have a great support system in place, albeit one that will wring the 'sharing' out of you, but once you do that, they'll rally around you, all dead ringers for maternal hens, many online hugs and 'hmms'. Even the guys :D. These are some of the helpful suggestions I received:
- 'You're a strong woman with good looks, talent and a great personality. Are you really going to let someone make you feel this terrible? Think positive, send positive vibes into the universe. Sometimes *cough* takes a bit longer for some, but you will be happy.'
- 'If this is making you feel like shit, you have more problems than I originally thought.'
- 'Positive vibes. Take, listen to AR Rahman."
- 'Life's too short to date every nice guy you meet. And you still haven't made it past the a-holes.'
- 'HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH I'm sorry but Hhhahahhahahahhahaha he SAID that?! Dude that is awesome! That has to go up in your Hall of Rejection.'
- 'Positive vibes.'
- 'Jesus will never leave you.'
- 'Hello Leftover!!'
If I haven't said this before, I'll say it now. Books saved my life and continue to do so every day. When I am through enduring relentless support (I mean this in the nicest way possible :D), my books let me forget everything. My own life is suspended and the people in my books will walk that stretch of nonthingness for me. I am not one of those people whose books are covered with newspaper and are immaculate. All my books are dog-eared, discoloured and slightly tainted with drool. I have travelled with everyone of them and they're worse for the wear, having done what they were there to do - engulf and uplift the mind.
That's that.
If you have not heard New Slang by The Shins, you must.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Keeping it elementary
Have you noticed how songs today are just clusters of obscure words strung together? I wonder why that is. We don't think in clever puns, far fetched analogies and turns of phrases, no? Or say 'tree' when we mean boy and 'boy' when we mean chair. I don't. It's why I think no matter how much great new music I listen to, I'll never stop going back to the old simple stuff. Seems like back then words were used to express, not hide behind. It's why I like Colin Hay so much. Because it feels like he's conversing honestly and just happened to be strumming his guitar at the time. So here, this is my song.
I like you
I like you
I hear every word that you say
I know every pause that you take
I like it when you fumble
I like it when you stumble
I like it when you pretend I didn't see it.
I like you
Your hair is so nice
I can't help but think about your shampoo
And grey is your colour,
oh how it is your colour!
When you smile at me
Even my intestines feel special
When you forget about me
I stop existing a little.
I sound like a twat
but I like it
And I like you.
You know what the scariest word in love is?
It's not 'over'
It's 'technically'
You'll be happy soon,
light sabres and ice blondes.
I'll be happy soon,
my guitar and a burger.
But right now I like you
And not just technically.
*Okay, yeah so maybe I see why obscure lyrics are preferred :D
I like you
I like you
I hear every word that you say
I know every pause that you take
I like it when you fumble
I like it when you stumble
I like it when you pretend I didn't see it.
I like you
Your hair is so nice
I can't help but think about your shampoo
And grey is your colour,
oh how it is your colour!
When you smile at me
Even my intestines feel special
When you forget about me
I stop existing a little.
I sound like a twat
but I like it
And I like you.
You know what the scariest word in love is?
It's not 'over'
It's 'technically'
You'll be happy soon,
light sabres and ice blondes.
I'll be happy soon,
my guitar and a burger.
But right now I like you
And not just technically.
*Okay, yeah so maybe I see why obscure lyrics are preferred :D
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