So you didn't like it, huh? I should've guessed as much. I was basically under the threat of being too predictable, so I thought I'd string some randomness and break the hardcore monotony of our usual lives; make a change you know. And now I get to know that you didn't appreciate it much. Cool, shouldn't hurt that much; I'll take it in my stride and unearth a better understanding of you someday. Yea, that'll be the day. What? You still don't get it? (*shrug* and then a *weak smile*) Fine, fine! We'll discuss it later.
------------
Just walked out of my once a week, every Saturday, 5:30 in the evening, English lit class to my old man's bookshop. There was 2 1/2 bottles of the afternoon beer and a 2 hour discussion on the theatre of Absurd, bit of Beckett and Camus' Myth of Sisyphus swimming all in my head and a cigarette in my hand to settle it all down.
The 15 minute walk was a bit weird. Actually I'm not used to the quiet walks anymore, and I sort of slipped from the edge of reason and went on to wander about to certain visions. Naa, I wasn't seeing satyrs walking along or spirits wrapped on trees and buses -- not the usual thing -- it was actually more just that a series of arguments were unfolding. Deep talk with myself. Then thinking about all the dreams I have dreamt and forgotten. Then questioning the ole' existentialist arguments. Then looking at the faces of women in the marketplace. Seeing a whole lot of people acting accordingly; arranged and well dress-rehearsed. Their different talk, their different lives and yet living as though its not planned; their manners. I also wished for some eyes to smile at me as they passed me; the warmth to let the winter not decide their cold hands which were lost in their pockets. Then it didn't matter. Looked at all the books I owned but had not read. Then felt distant long that I hadn't felt and then I lost them again.
............
The lights went out. This happens quite a few time, enough to actually make you accommodate it in your life as though 'its bound to happen'. So I slipped out to for a smoke, upstairs to the roof. making enough noise while getting there -- there aren't lights -- to remind my sleeping folks that their son now has a nicotine habit that he has to sustain. And I guess they've taken to it well; although not so quite, but perhaps as though its something he himself has gotten into and now that we've told him much about it, its up to him to sort it out. The night sky at 12 at night was brilliant, I was just in time to see a sheet of scattered clouds envelope the blissful moon. The Stones Zippo, the Gold Flake cigarette and my bloody mind kept each other company. Then I slipped back, making enough noise again, lay on my bed and listened to The End -- something that I haven't done for ages -- on the pod and waited for the lights to be back. So here I am again, and perhaps so it goes.
---------
If there's something wrong -- and I have been meaning to tell you this -- that I've kinda been out of love for a fucking length of time. So I guess that I've forgotten what its like. The whole love bit? The movies explain, but the movies not right, right? Its strange that when you're out of it, you get a bit skeptical about the subject. You feel that its a word, a bit too extreme. Very overrated and bloody common. 'Umm, I love Chinese food' and 'Thought you might like to know: I love you' -- there's a difference right, so why is the word jammed when in either cases you could replace the word like and seem a bit brighter. Then of course you miss the bloody thing. You miss it quite a bit. When you look around, nobody really fits in. There are eyes but they float around; they cross you and they disappear in the mist of the people. You really can't hunt it down; guess love just occurs. Like its a flash. But then there are some that build the darn thing, which is sweet but then I guess there's a flash there as well one morning. I guess I'll just hang around and wait it to crash, otherwise I'll be bloody boring. So that's it.
-------
I once told someone, I think it was Jabberwocky . This blog is meant to be something that I can look back at; read and laugh about. Guess now it'll be just bloody hilarious.
------------
Just walked out of my once a week, every Saturday, 5:30 in the evening, English lit class to my old man's bookshop. There was 2 1/2 bottles of the afternoon beer and a 2 hour discussion on the theatre of Absurd, bit of Beckett and Camus' Myth of Sisyphus swimming all in my head and a cigarette in my hand to settle it all down.
The 15 minute walk was a bit weird. Actually I'm not used to the quiet walks anymore, and I sort of slipped from the edge of reason and went on to wander about to certain visions. Naa, I wasn't seeing satyrs walking along or spirits wrapped on trees and buses -- not the usual thing -- it was actually more just that a series of arguments were unfolding. Deep talk with myself. Then thinking about all the dreams I have dreamt and forgotten. Then questioning the ole' existentialist arguments. Then looking at the faces of women in the marketplace. Seeing a whole lot of people acting accordingly; arranged and well dress-rehearsed. Their different talk, their different lives and yet living as though its not planned; their manners. I also wished for some eyes to smile at me as they passed me; the warmth to let the winter not decide their cold hands which were lost in their pockets. Then it didn't matter. Looked at all the books I owned but had not read. Then felt distant long that I hadn't felt and then I lost them again.
............
The lights went out. This happens quite a few time, enough to actually make you accommodate it in your life as though 'its bound to happen'. So I slipped out to for a smoke, upstairs to the roof. making enough noise while getting there -- there aren't lights -- to remind my sleeping folks that their son now has a nicotine habit that he has to sustain. And I guess they've taken to it well; although not so quite, but perhaps as though its something he himself has gotten into and now that we've told him much about it, its up to him to sort it out. The night sky at 12 at night was brilliant, I was just in time to see a sheet of scattered clouds envelope the blissful moon. The Stones Zippo, the Gold Flake cigarette and my bloody mind kept each other company. Then I slipped back, making enough noise again, lay on my bed and listened to The End -- something that I haven't done for ages -- on the pod and waited for the lights to be back. So here I am again, and perhaps so it goes.
---------
If there's something wrong -- and I have been meaning to tell you this -- that I've kinda been out of love for a fucking length of time. So I guess that I've forgotten what its like. The whole love bit? The movies explain, but the movies not right, right? Its strange that when you're out of it, you get a bit skeptical about the subject. You feel that its a word, a bit too extreme. Very overrated and bloody common. 'Umm, I love Chinese food' and 'Thought you might like to know: I love you' -- there's a difference right, so why is the word jammed when in either cases you could replace the word like and seem a bit brighter. Then of course you miss the bloody thing. You miss it quite a bit. When you look around, nobody really fits in. There are eyes but they float around; they cross you and they disappear in the mist of the people. You really can't hunt it down; guess love just occurs. Like its a flash. But then there are some that build the darn thing, which is sweet but then I guess there's a flash there as well one morning. I guess I'll just hang around and wait it to crash, otherwise I'll be bloody boring. So that's it.
-------
I once told someone, I think it was Jabberwocky . This blog is meant to be something that I can look back at; read and laugh about. Guess now it'll be just bloody hilarious.
posted by jairaj at Saturday, December 02, 2006
6 Comments:
nice post man!
cheers...
hmm it took me a while to get thru the whole post and actually try and piece together wat ur trying to say but it was well worth the effort. love is a momentary blinding flash, if ur not looking for it, it'll just come n smack u straight in the face but u gotta watch out when it actually creeps up slowly, coz thats the one to keep.
cheers :)
lovely post. i love my rooftop ciggies in the winter. i love delhi winters actually. and twilight in the summers.
adding on to serendipity's wisdom: love like cycling is a skill you never forget.
Jerry...I felt as if I was absorbed into ur thoughts. Feels alot like my world.
(hey hobo) I too have forgotten 'love'...and my last attempt on a bicycle bruised both my knees and hands (ofcourse it was on a friday night, just slightly tipsy)
.......thank god it wasnt my heart.
Who can manage subtle despair better than you?
I have conversations in my head all the time, ALL the time. Sometimes I even make the accompanying gestures.
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