The road is winding and vicious
And there’s a violent storm
I don’t even know
If I’m going someplace
Or if its somewhere I’m coming from

Numbness is ugly and contagious
It's one of the few remnants
Never thought much of it,
Till I contracted it
As few years' worth of inheritance

They don't care to know more
Than what they want in front of their eye
Endless snivelling
There always was
But never an answer to my why

That woman I know, she told me the truth
"No doubt you were always very loyal.
But some people will still
Get out of touch,
Even if you keep them on speed dial."

And I never really disliked it
Even when I had to crawl
To this she said
“Well, you gotta cook it her way
Or you're not eating anything at all”

So I don't feel good about myself
Wonder what’s happened to my big ego
I'm sorry...that’s right, I forgot
You dismantled it for me
A long time ago

You don’t always deserve to own things
Though you maybe capable of paying
I think I'd be tense
If I saw you outside my fence
Honey I’m just saying…

Dunno if it makes any sense now,
But I sure couldn’t fathom it at the time
So here I’m stuck
With echoes of my dreams
And 300 poems that don’t rhyme

A bizarre conversation!

Here’s one. For your perusal. I think I secretly like conversations like these.

Background note: Somehow, over the years, I've found that I have an anti-thing for wannabe pronunciations. I actually don’t have a problem with whatever people want to say. But it’s very tempting for me to butt in with a joke, or what I think is a joke, whenever I hear someone say something either in a fake accent, or in some wannabe way, or in a way that attempts to take away the innate crude from something. I don’t understand why people need to take it upon themselves to polish and gloss up a word that is unfinished in its natural form. Like it will take away the class from their thoughts if they were to pronounce it the way it actually is. I explain with an example:

Perpetual Wonderer: …so then you take the next left, and there it is on your right.

Young Vain Girl: Wait wait…go back a minute please…explain the route again from Kirkee Bizaare.

PW: Oh…you are one of those…

YVG: One of whom?

PW: The ones who call it Kirkee Bizaare, instead of Khadki Bazaar. And Awwndh instead of Aundh. And ‘And-a-munn’ instead of Andamaan!

YVG: I so don’t say Awwndh!

PW: But you do say Kirkee Bizaare.

YVG: That’s different. I say it because then I don’t have remember two different versions of the word ‘bazaar’ for different contexts.

PW: Huh! Why would you need to remember two different versions? Just remember one version- the original.

YVG: Yeah, and when I have to read Harper’s Bazaar, how do I say it? Harper’s Baazaar?

PW: What the hell is Harper’s Bazaar?

YVG: Whaaaat…you don’t know Harper’s Bazaar?? Are you serious?

PW: What? Is it some new cool thing that’s opened somewhere? Does this Harper guy have good stuff for cheap?

YVG: STOP! How can you not know Harper’s Bazaar? I live on it. Do you even know Vogue?

PW: Ahh…ok, I think I understand now. See, I am super clever. I can see you in front of me. Then I also know Vogue, because I have seen a lot of TV that talks of it. And Sarah Jessica Parker talks of it, in her show too. So now, I put two and two and two together, and I think Harper’s Bazaar is some commodity on the vanity market, that you are obviously hooked on to.

YVG: Ahh—haaan-aan! And it’s not vain man!

PW: Ok, then let me give you a shocking piece of news babe. I could actually have gone an entire lifetime without saying Harper’s Bazaar. What sort of a name is it anyway…But I understand; if you have a burning need in your life to keep saying Harper’s Bazaar, then it must be very confusing to keep two versions of the word in your brain, which obviously contains a lot of other stuff too. Stuff that I really wish I can respect.

YVG: Aww. That’s sweet of you. So you see, calling it Kirkee Bizaare works for me. Because if I remember two versions of it, and say Baazaar by mistake when I am referring to Harper’s Bazaar, then would that be some major faux pas!

PW: Now that you pronounced right…

Different people have different problems. It is just not possible for us to judge them, because we don’t know their lives. I, in my wildest dream, couldn’t have imagined that someone like this would be able to justify her pronouncing ‘bazaar’ as ‘bizaare’. But it happened. At 3 a.m. nonetheless. Additionally, I was schooled and tested and humbled at a dynamite lesson in vanity. How do you counter reasoning that is so solid and well thought out!

As a kid, I always was heavily into playing sports. Any sport. I didn’t mind. As a grown up, other easier distractions like watching a movie, or talking to someone you enjoy talking to, or drinking, or reading or listening to music get in the way of the 14 year old boy-life. But as a kid, all these distractions were vapor. It was just impossible for someone to suggest such a non-boy activity and expect me to forego a sport. But, even then, there were obstacles. Girls for example. We had a few sweet(ish) girls around where I lived, who used to come to ‘play’ with us. Now ‘play’ for 12 year old girls means something totally different from what it means for guys. Yet, being the sweet kid I was, I sometimes ‘played’ with the girls too. Their games were more like hide and go seek, or Sunday Monday Tuesday types. Quite kiddish, but I could see how those games too could be enjoyed.

So this one time, around 12 of us were playing hide and go seek. There was the guy who was the denner or "it". As soon as his counting began, I ran to a super-awesome place that I knew. I knew I would win the game if I just hid there. There was about zero chance of me being found. As I sat there, perched between a tree branch and the edge of a balcony, about 15 feet from the ground, I saw the other kids being smoked out of their lame-ass hiding places. I was all smug, scoffing at their weak attempts. Soon, everyone was found and I was the only one remaining. For a few mins, I could hear how I was suddenly the expert hider that nobody could get the better of. I was gloating on my tree. I was the hide and seek hero, so to say. I felt like I had won. But I had to keep this place a secret. So I had to wait till they all moved away from where I was, so that I could then do a “Tada!!!” entry from around the corner and be proclaimed super-hider, officially. But that didn’t happen. The stupid kids just continued to hang out below the tree. Soon, they began discussing random topics- TV shows, stories from school, plans for the holidays, computer games. What the fuck! I was still to be discovered and these loser kids had already given up and moved on. Soon, the "it" too joined their discussions and the hide and seek game just fizzled out. Just like that. Now I had absolutely no incentive of climbing down. The moment had passed and I didn’t want the hiding place to become known. So I continued to sit tight. Then it got dark, and they began to disperse. Soon, there was no one left.

I climbed down, pissed off with the way this whole shit had gone. What a waste of an evening. Sitting in a tree doing nothing. All because I was good at what I was doing and the rest of them weren’t focused. I just went home, had dinner and watched some TV. And swore to myself that I would not play any gay games after that.

Now, years later, I have learned my lesson from that evening. I realize now, that in life it’s rarely about whether or not you want to play hide and seek. Sometimes, life will make you hide, even though you may not want to. And the onus of being discovered and sought out in time, lies with you. For if you obsess too much about winning, you will just stay there, hidden, sitting on the proverbial tree watching everyone else who has apparently lost, get on with their lives. Because when everyone loses, losing suddenly becomes the new winning. The world is full of denners who would rather go home and accept they weren’t good enough, than doggedly seek you out because they made a commitment to themselves when they took that den.

As unfair as it may sound, you have to decide if you want to hide so well that no one can find you, ever. Or if you want to have a life at the cost of being sought out. But I can tell you, if you hide and no one seeks you out, life will suck much, much more. You will eventually grovel and beg to be found. To be discovered. To be noticed. To lose the game. Just so you can live.

A thousand monkeys madly keying away at typewriters for a thousand years can apparently produce Shakespearean work. Lets see what one stupid monkey can do, banging one keyboard for 2 minutes. One pain-addicted, fucking monkey...

asdsa g rhewrgjew oweng oqusg yosgdsfer giy swjsw wetrhkyt ujhklar uhlanbdt kjtr hahfu aigfn agjisag hiague jfquncgw jngj jhhyiu yq cfr wm;l rawnh yehnns q gh qurgew nh hdhtn bvhhpr nlprh pue nitptg howikh lopwq hbsy hvqwqtuihpoyu howghy hlawuy hjqpyir huprhbvvj hapwy wsdgu wuahgwr hlqhkq avavio habdauq jpapwh iuqetgv hbasuqhy hncaqpbg utqasiq jquyp htuaqwng ashquqet abhbqoye jhasuqwr bkpqoet asfuq aguqoldfh eihfpew howph najowyg hqpehva asfhuqw hyhfbdiuoeryb njhyw uyiet kljopryn hueowy iubsr njhsdgtrju jkweoop hwejwypu hwnnu sdhuti huwery trust e hyp wqjy sfbjhpqwt jhpienb uipr bnkutr uopwt hiurvf hirst nbiotuy koir boiarn njwwe net npwet kjhi hjwy

Enough said.

Two words have annoyed me umpteen no. of times over the last few days. Must have heard each one of them about 5 times. I was aware of them from before, and always thought they were annoying. But actually hearing them is something else.

totes (adv): Slang short for 'totally', used mostly to express an extreme degree of vanity.

e.g. Lindsay Lohan's new boyfriend is totes awesome. Like, really!

Agonizing, right? Right.

swearsies (verb): Slang degenerate of an already slangabused word 'swear'.

e.g. I will come up with better topics to write on my blog, if you all stay on. Swearsies!

Seriously, for those who didn't have these terrible words in their vocabularies, how annoying an addition was it! (#insertevilgrinhere)

As I said, I have heard these words more than a few times over the last few days. I must add that I heard them come out of the mouths of nowhere-near-teeny girls. I didn't rake up an issue with them and just let it slip. But I made a mental note to say something about them on the blog. Who knows, maybe this could start a movement that could weed out these and other such words from the language! Or maybe I am just old and not 'with' the times anymore.

Actually, no. I kind of want these words around, just so I can poke fun at them. Plus some words sound different when girls say them.

I totes don't know what I am talking about, do I?

Every step of the way
We walk the line
Your days are numbered,
So are mine
Time is pilin’ up,
We struggle and we scrape
We’re all boxed in,
Nowhere to escape

City’s just a jungle
More games to play
Trapped in the heart of it,
Trying to get away
I was raised in the country,
I been working in the town
I've been in trouble ever since I
Set my suitcase down

Got nothing for you,
I had nothing before
Don’t even have anything
For myself anymore
Sky full of fire,
Pain pouring down
Nothing you can sell me,
I’ll see you around

All my powers of expression
And thoughts so sublime
Could never do you justice
In reason or rhyme
Only one thing
I did wrong
Stayed in that city,
A day too long

Well, the devil’s in the alley,
The mule’s in the stall
Say anything you wanna,
I have heard it all
I was thinking 'bout the things that
Rosie said
I was dreaming I was sleeping
In Rosie’s bed

Walking through the leaves,
Falling from the trees
Feeling like a stranger
Nobody sees
So many things
That we never will undo
I know you’re sorry,
I’m sorry too

Some people will offer you their hand
And some won’t
That last night I knew you,
Tonight I don’t
I need something strong
To distract my mind
I’m gonna look at you,
Till my eyes go blind

Well I got here following
The southern star
I crossed that river
Just to be where you are
Only one thing
I did wrong
Stayed in that city,
A day too long

Well my ship’s been split to splinters
And it’s sinkin' fast
I’m drowning in the poison,
Got no future, got no past
But my heart is not weary,
It’s light and it’s free
I’ve got nothin’ but affection
For all those who’ve sailed with me

Everybody moving,
If they ain’t already there
Everybody got to move
Somewhere
Stick with me baby,
Stick with me anyhow
Things should start to get interesting
Right about now

My clothes are wet,
Tight on my skin
Not as tight as the corner
That I have painted myself in
I know that fortune
Is waiting to be kind
So give me your hand
And say you’ll be mine

Well, the emptiness is endless,
Cold as the clay
You can always come back,
But you can’t come back all the way
Only one thing
I did wrong
Stayed in that city,
A day too long