I loved too abstractly.
I dreaded how all there was to give was me

(stolen from hasan)

<clearing email drafts>

unsent email not so poetic as unsent letters?

All winter the snow made the roads impassable

I wrote page after page thinking of you.

Now the water flows free down the mountain
And I must decide if these words are worth sending.

(stolen from falstaff  <you really are just one person aren’t you ? >)

 

waiting endlessly
for time to unravel
decisions
that i will make

peas,shelling

why is it called shelling peas? shelling peas. peas in a pod..they don’t know about the rest of the peaworld do they? do they?
I am going to say byebye safalfrozenmattar for a while and shell peas.

pigment, peppermint and tar

magic is red or blue or green. so is the land of oz. reality on the other hand might be purple. or magenta?

cinnabar. mercuric sulfide. toxic it is.

breadandjam

I had it again today. bread and jam. breadandjam. the first bite reminds me of just the taste i was longing for. for so long. that perfect sweetness. perfect. and then i take another bite. reaffirmation, like the pinch-me-so-i-know-its-true. perfectbreadandjam . modern bread and kissan mixed fruit jam. and then another bite, it stirs up an old and forgotten cavity over my not so wise tooth. and then another, and then another, munch munch munch. then i have the last bite. and suddenly i realize that this is how breadandjam always ends. a little too sweet. if the beginning of excess had to be described – this is it: the last bit of breadandjam. just a little more. it is always a little more. it is perfect plus a little more – and no sir, there is no such thing as more perfect. it always ends a little too sweet. if the last bit didnt exist would i have felt so for the second last bite? the second secondlastbite? the first bite? no, the first bite was bliss. but a-little-more is devastating. and then i want to scream out loud – stop breadandjamming me. stop stop. stop. stop.

i asked for it, i know… i know….
you gave me so much and a little more.

extreme. confident.

i do not feel extremely confident about not going ahead.
i feel extremely not confident about going ahead.
and so i will stay put.
but i will also stay happy.
and maybe, just maybe i will zap past.

Protected: cosmic sans comic sense(yeah this is password protected not because this is sensitive but because this is long and boring. i should have deleted it maybe but i am scared it would come in my nightmares[dressed like a light blue four rupee competition postcard with matchstick legs and arms] and yank me by my hair screaming that i cant keep running away from what i said and did. or maybe ill just delete it tomorrow. )

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liver and let liver

most hindi songs, especially those from the nineties would almost always have a mention of  jigar, which is actually the liver.

i used to find it hilarious earlier:

jaane jigar jaane mann

nazar ke saamne jigar ke paas

bidi jalaile jigar se piya

do you know:you cannot live without a functioning liver for more than 24 hours. but do u also know: it is the only organ of the body that can regenerate itself. about one fourth of a liver can regenerate all the lost tissue.

makes sense does’nt it:

my loved one, i cannot live without you for more than a day.

but if you do leave me, and if i’m not the big fool who has lost myself completely,

ill bounce back in a while.

sounds and silences

we teach each other. the nudge of an elbow. the raise of an eyebrow. of two. a half smile. full. an almost frown. a frown. we learn to identify little gestures. we articulate silences.

are you thinking what i am thinking? a gentle nod.

so light that no one would catch it. but we teach each other. and we learn.

oh my god, that is so disgusting. a quick blink. yes, i know. i feel the same way.

we speak with everything but our voices and we mould and train and teach our each other to understand them. we calibrate sarcasm: not too much, not too little, just right. we choreograph fights. we set up little arenas and we admit to an unsaid contract. i will not run away. u will not run away. we box and wrestle to glory. but we promise each other within that little arena, we will not run away.

we decide on words, phrases and sentences. our dictionary works differently. we just know. we listen. we learn. and we just know.

we set up little hoops. and we stand back and say: jump. and we pride ourselves at our silly performance. you won. i trained you well. we are team.

afterthought

i came up with this name. stonepaperscissors. a moment later i thought i should have called it penpaperscissors or mousekeyboardcursors or something else. anything but this. afterthought. it kills me. it so wonderfully nullifies that tiny ounce of glory  you felt a millisecond before it crept  into your head. saying something really witty at the right moment: glory. realizing it was not so witty and not so appropriate either: afterthought. winning an argument: glory. realizing the loser let you: afterthought. finally writing: glory. and i know what i’ll feel a moment later.