awesome celebrations..
12th april
went out with RandR(at my request) to DT, drank approx 90ml vodka. was drunk by the time we left. stood around sharada for a while after they dropped me there. called r and asked if she could hang out.. dint really want to spend the transition alone, and couldnt really think of anyone else i'd want to be with.
she showed up a little later and we went to shenoy's where we sat while she studied and i talked about random shit. she bought me a whole pack of mints coz apparently my breath was really bad.
sv came along (dint strike me then!!). randomly chatted some more. thank god ive started having fun with people here...
eventually some 30 mins before midnight, she decided she wanted to take a walk, so we walked into the greens, and she lead me to the stage.. where there were some ten people sitting in the dugout place.
but what my eyes rested on was the candles around the cake. flickering slightly in the breeze. then they yelled surprise and i figured it was for me (still tipsy) it was awesome. r, shraydee, श्री, sv, sm, na, am, sk, 2T (did i miss someone??)
i was so touched. nicest thing anyones done for me, ever, barring the surprise thing that sim threw me before i left. i love you guys !! i almost cried...
so we cut the cake, and i counted the candles, perfect number, 19. they told me it was done unintentionally (HA). yummy chocolate cake. with "happy birthday to our cutely random S" in icing on it. oh my god i love you guys. i would give my life for you.
and then, as if it couldnt get better, shraydee got his guitar out and sree sang my fav songs. iris, here is gone, here without you. and then ended with sutta!
i couldnt get over them singing and playing for me. it was the most romantic thing ever, if there can be such an emotion among a group of friends.
so we sat/stood around singing together in the dark under the stars. perfect.
i love you. and maybe i can show you someday.
its so surprising that the people who organised this for me arent in my course at all. shows that i havent made and new friends. its just always been r and her group. i love you.
on the thirteenth, left for bangalore. got there saturday morn, stayed till sunday night. spent the night in v's hostel.
we talked a lot (me and y). spoke about our deteriorating relationship, about how we want different things from life. to my surprise, he actually admitted having not made an effort to understand or make things better. he admitted that more often than not he picked on words used and technicality instead of trying to understand what im trying to say.
i told him about my need for passion, intensity and romance. but i dont think he understands. he's just not built that way. i need someone to satisfy the poet in me. and he's mr. mathematician. an expert at breaking everything down to its constituent elements, when all im looking for is integration of the whole.
he took me out saturday night, we were supposed to hang out at this pub, but it was full, so we went to a mall instead. i had fun, spending time trying on clothes isnt something i'd object too..
well, actually, it was supposed to be a proper date... i got all dressed up in this pretty black skirt and sequined top. and he was supposed to pay for us both, and it was supposed to be romantic night out etc. we've never really gone on a "date" date
but then that dint work out. and i was very disappointed and a little bit angry. i was really expecting him to show me what i was looking for.
we just ended up making out...which is what always happens. just because i enjoy it doesnt mean its a substitute to everything, or that it has the potential to fix everything. and it dint fix it that day. yeah sure, it was the best alternative available at the time, but i wanted more.
hopefully he'll do it properly sometime. without me TELLING him to.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?��?
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?��? and, “Do I dare?��?
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!��?]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!��?]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?And how should I begin?. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all��?—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.��?
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.��?. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?��?
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?��? and, “Do I dare?��?
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!��?]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!��?]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?And how should I begin?. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all��?—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.��?
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.��?. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
why dint you call ?
hmm
this is just getting more and more bizarre. or maybe its just coz i had a beer, and danced with this hot guy who practically begged to be allowed to. not to mention the cigarette that made me reel.
wow that was fun. havent done that in a while.
which reminds me.
must lose weight.
must use natural summer induced anorexia to stop eating much, and must substitute biscuits with fruits.
must also begin studying seriously.
to that end:
hmm
this is just getting more and more bizarre. or maybe its just coz i had a beer, and danced with this hot guy who practically begged to be allowed to. not to mention the cigarette that made me reel.
wow that was fun. havent done that in a while.
which reminds me.
must lose weight.
must use natural summer induced anorexia to stop eating much, and must substitute biscuits with fruits.
must also begin studying seriously.
to that end:
- must prevent debilitating headaches
- must stop reading fiction
- must stop surfing online/chatting online
- must not sleep 12 hours a day
- must open prescribed textbooks and READ
i think i've become a little too overconfident because of previous record. i just got lucky thats all. and doing really badly in the third sessionals is going to kill my confidence for the uni's.
feeling really good about myself. probably because im still high, its half past three in the morning (i LOVE the night, havent done this in so long.. missed it), and im listening to marroon5.
though i have NO RIGHT to feel good about myself. i SHOULD be feeling:
- guilty
- anxious
- lonely
- sad
sd, you've been awesome. i love you. we're still kinda like we used to be before.... despite the huge time and distance gap.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
"There's no reason at all why we can't be friends now. I'd like to be. If you'd still like to," said Kiki, and felt ridculous, like a schoolgirl. She was new to this. The friendship of other women hadn't mattered to her in a long time. She'd never needed to think about it, having married her best friend.
from 'On Beauty' by Zadie Smith
from 'On Beauty' by Zadie Smith
Friday, April 06, 2007
woke up feeling terrible. its the urge to purge. what an awful rhyme. but yeah, writing things down has always been therapeutic for me
i dreamt about being back home. mom and dad were sitting in the front and i was in the back of the car. we were driving someplace. and i wanted the drive to go on forever.
i dreamt about opening my email and finding in it a long mail from him... a reply to a really short one that i sent him. he talked about stuff happening in his life, and about life in general. he talked about us, about how we're good together, and how much he cares. i woke up believing it wasnt a dream. somehow at the back of my mind i kept thinking about checking my mail. and when i did, i realised it was just a dream.
i miss you. dont you get it? yes, i know you're there if i ever really need you... but define "ever really"? i mean, i can deal with everything myself without you. i dont need you to get through my life.
i'm not even sure anymore if this is worth it. i'm sorry. but there's so much inner conflict these days, since i started pulling away from you. i see things differently. i see how your life is full and wouldnt be empty without me. and i see how my life is similar.
i see how what we want from each other is so totally different. and how neither one of us is able/willing to compromise. and how we end up making each other miserable, because no matter how close we were before, we DONT understand each other at all.
i dreamt about being back home. mom and dad were sitting in the front and i was in the back of the car. we were driving someplace. and i wanted the drive to go on forever.
i dreamt about opening my email and finding in it a long mail from him... a reply to a really short one that i sent him. he talked about stuff happening in his life, and about life in general. he talked about us, about how we're good together, and how much he cares. i woke up believing it wasnt a dream. somehow at the back of my mind i kept thinking about checking my mail. and when i did, i realised it was just a dream.
i miss you. dont you get it? yes, i know you're there if i ever really need you... but define "ever really"? i mean, i can deal with everything myself without you. i dont need you to get through my life.
i'm not even sure anymore if this is worth it. i'm sorry. but there's so much inner conflict these days, since i started pulling away from you. i see things differently. i see how your life is full and wouldnt be empty without me. and i see how my life is similar.
i see how what we want from each other is so totally different. and how neither one of us is able/willing to compromise. and how we end up making each other miserable, because no matter how close we were before, we DONT understand each other at all.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
frustration
what i need is for you to feel something, anything, when you're around me.
feel it like i feel it -- shaking my entire being, purifying my thoughts to one theme. INTENSITY. thats what i never see in you anymore.
its also why i prefer fighting with you. its better than the emotion-free conversations we have. Because you're hardly ever intense in the other, nicer way. Getting the intense romance out of you is much more difficult than getting you to fight with me. which is why we end up fighting more.
why dont you understand that you're the only one who can give me what i want? all my fantasies lie in your hands. you can make me really really happy, but you choose NOT to.
tell me why i should be the one compromising?
feel it like i feel it -- shaking my entire being, purifying my thoughts to one theme. INTENSITY. thats what i never see in you anymore.
its also why i prefer fighting with you. its better than the emotion-free conversations we have. Because you're hardly ever intense in the other, nicer way. Getting the intense romance out of you is much more difficult than getting you to fight with me. which is why we end up fighting more.
why dont you understand that you're the only one who can give me what i want? all my fantasies lie in your hands. you can make me really really happy, but you choose NOT to.
tell me why i should be the one compromising?
how much is that doggie in the window?
walked out of dh today, and saw poor little puppy dog lying on the pavement. and everyone was just passing her by. she was lying there, unable to sit up, eyes barely open. unable to get away from the terrifying crowd of feet coming her way.
how can you walk away from a poor sick helpless baby animal? how DARE you walk away? would you walk away from a crying, half dead baby on the road? why is their life less important, their death more insignificant? its a SIN. may your conscience weigh heavily upon you. how can you respect yourself as a person? how can you look at yourself in the mirror and see a kind and compassionate person? would you ever treat your would be patients like that?
hypocrisy.
integrity. integrity is about going all the way. its not selective amnesia. if you hold kindness to be a virtue, then how can you call yourself virtuous if you are kind only to humans and not to other forms of life? ayn rand said it very nicely in "for the new intellectual".
so, ofcourse i took care of her. ofcourse i took her to a doctor, and fed her, and got her adopted. it took considerable effort. finding a vet isnt easy in manipal. the autowallas dint know what vet/animal doctor means, they kept offering to drop me of at the hospital.
having no other choice, i ran back up to dh and found dr narga nair. i happened to remember she has a spaniel and thus would know what to do. unfortunately she was in a meeting with approximately 20 other people, but i called her out and explained.
she directed me to this tiny clinic, where there wasnt a vet, but a doctor who liked animals a lot and treated them in her spare time. all this after telling me that it was better for the dog to die.
to die. talk about finality. would you say that about a sick child EVER? what happened to hope? can you imagine what it must be like for the poor baby to die.. all alone lying on a pavement... incredibly thirsty, barely able to breathe, the world dimming, everything going black....no loving touch on forehead, no soothing hands to ease away the pain. loneliness. complete isolation.
so i took her there. was helped by a lot of other people, two accompanied me, hailed autos for me etc. when i picked her up, she couldnt even lift her tiny head. she opened her black eyes... made bigger because of the emaciated face and looked at me helplessly. no tail wag, no wet inquisitive nose jab, no curious lick, no flinching even.
at the clinic, doc saw her immediately. we got her all spruced up, she managed to drink some milk and water, and even stood up for ten seconds.
she told us she couldnt keep him, but we couldnt either! i started talking to people waiting in the lobby. asking if they wanted a tiny dog.
finally ran into the old guy. manager of the place. first person who took me seriously. he actually THANKED ME for bringing her to the clinic. yeah right. like i could have done anything else. we got talking and finally figured that both he and my dad have a navy background. yay. that was good because, that finally established rapport. and he agreed to take her in. he explained about his house on half an acre of land, and about the seven other dogs he cared for. then he asked his servant whether he could handle another one.
thank god. she found a home.
what would have happened if i had just walked by?
what would have happened if YOU had stopped and helped that sick critter you saw on the road the other day? is keeping your posh car clean REALLY that important?
talk about cruelty.
i saw it in action today.
how can you walk away from a poor sick helpless baby animal? how DARE you walk away? would you walk away from a crying, half dead baby on the road? why is their life less important, their death more insignificant? its a SIN. may your conscience weigh heavily upon you. how can you respect yourself as a person? how can you look at yourself in the mirror and see a kind and compassionate person? would you ever treat your would be patients like that?
hypocrisy.
integrity. integrity is about going all the way. its not selective amnesia. if you hold kindness to be a virtue, then how can you call yourself virtuous if you are kind only to humans and not to other forms of life? ayn rand said it very nicely in "for the new intellectual".
so, ofcourse i took care of her. ofcourse i took her to a doctor, and fed her, and got her adopted. it took considerable effort. finding a vet isnt easy in manipal. the autowallas dint know what vet/animal doctor means, they kept offering to drop me of at the hospital.
having no other choice, i ran back up to dh and found dr narga nair. i happened to remember she has a spaniel and thus would know what to do. unfortunately she was in a meeting with approximately 20 other people, but i called her out and explained.
she directed me to this tiny clinic, where there wasnt a vet, but a doctor who liked animals a lot and treated them in her spare time. all this after telling me that it was better for the dog to die.
to die. talk about finality. would you say that about a sick child EVER? what happened to hope? can you imagine what it must be like for the poor baby to die.. all alone lying on a pavement... incredibly thirsty, barely able to breathe, the world dimming, everything going black....no loving touch on forehead, no soothing hands to ease away the pain. loneliness. complete isolation.
so i took her there. was helped by a lot of other people, two accompanied me, hailed autos for me etc. when i picked her up, she couldnt even lift her tiny head. she opened her black eyes... made bigger because of the emaciated face and looked at me helplessly. no tail wag, no wet inquisitive nose jab, no curious lick, no flinching even.
at the clinic, doc saw her immediately. we got her all spruced up, she managed to drink some milk and water, and even stood up for ten seconds.
she told us she couldnt keep him, but we couldnt either! i started talking to people waiting in the lobby. asking if they wanted a tiny dog.
finally ran into the old guy. manager of the place. first person who took me seriously. he actually THANKED ME for bringing her to the clinic. yeah right. like i could have done anything else. we got talking and finally figured that both he and my dad have a navy background. yay. that was good because, that finally established rapport. and he agreed to take her in. he explained about his house on half an acre of land, and about the seven other dogs he cared for. then he asked his servant whether he could handle another one.
thank god. she found a home.
what would have happened if i had just walked by?
what would have happened if YOU had stopped and helped that sick critter you saw on the road the other day? is keeping your posh car clean REALLY that important?
talk about cruelty.
i saw it in action today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)