works every time

2007-03-10T16:02:00.000+08:00

it bothers me that i'm wallpaper to everyone.

like people come and tell me things out of obligation, and when they really need someone to talk to, i'm never the one they call. mostly the old friends, who've moved on to other people.

maybe partly because i've made them? by not being there all the time, which i couldn't help. by changing. is it my fault for changing? doesn't everyone? dunno what everyone thinks of me, and i'm beginning to care less and less. but i'm scared that by caring less abt what they think of me, they will think less of me because they know that i don't care anyway. anyway, its gotta be a conscious thing, this lack of caring.

what bothers me most is that i really think we're pretty close, but you never seem happy to see me in the mornings, you never tell me things before you tell them things, i'm always the fourth in line to being any form of influence in your life. in fact, i think if i stopped being your friend, or if i didn't exist anymore in your life, you wouldn't miss me much.

***

maybe she's right. maybe i really am losing my morals. i remember years ago i actually had real morals, written down somewhere, atleast in my head, in black and white. and i never compromised on them. and with everyone decision i have made since then that has compromised on one of those morals, i have found it harder and harder to go back.

yeah so i'm more liberal now. because i don't think things are that simple. like it isn't always good to do x, and it isn't always bad to do y. and to say that all people who do x are bad people is just crazy, and its not easy not to do x when everyone else is doing it, and few people understand your logic, and then you start not to understand your own logic anymore. and really, people with too many morals have fewer friends. don't know if its a spurious correlation or a real direct link, but thats just always the way it is. but it scares me a bit because if i don't have real black and white moral decisions (although i most certainly have moral direction, and an internal moral compass), what do i do in the face of something that isn't clear? i can't rely on others. i've relied on others too much, and everyone's going to say a different thing, and it becomes too complicted a system- do you listen to those who matter the most to you? how do you decide who matters more? do you listen to those you admire for their morals, and their priorities, and their sensibility? how do you know they're always right? why do you even admire them? then you just end up creating a human benchmark, which is not a foolproof system because people make mistakes. and you cannot depend on anyone else to be your ultimate moral guide. no, not even your parents.

also, i'm beginning to feel less and less like people know me anymore.
but saying all this feels like secthree me. so i don't feel like myself anymore, admitting these things, or even feeling them. this isn't me. i'm never worried abt things like this. i've never had a reason to. its been so long since i have, i feel a little out of touch.

and i wonder who i can talk to without feeling like a burden.
yeah, i'm becoming more of a private person.

come what may

2007-03-06T19:30:00.000+08:00

Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more and more

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings
Come back to me, and forgive everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may
Come what may
I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time

Oh, come what may, come what may
I will love you, I will love you
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

shalom in the home

2007-03-05T20:05:00.000+08:00

i guess, if i wanted to, i could go talk to her now. i wouldn't be able to make things okay but i could go talk to her.

she said all these things that she has never said before. sometimes, in the past, i really wished she would just spit it out. because what good is holding it all in? i know i'm a hard kid to raise, just express how far from content you are and maybe we'll all be a little more comfortable because we're all a little more honest. but i guess it hurt more than i thought it would. i think i'm not used to honesty; i think i give out a lot more honesty than i receive.

its very refreshing to receive honesty from people around you, like b*. i love it that she is honest, and that she doesn't feel a need to fake things with me because she knows i won't judge her. but things are always different with your mother. i wonder how she felt, giving birth to me. i wonder if, everytime she feels upset with me or with who i've become, she recalls giving birth to me and the pain she went through to do that.

she's right. she's made so many sacrifices, she's given up on so many things for me. but i never, ever, ever thought she would say i was a waste of all of that. i didn't see that coming. i thought something a little lighter? like hey, maybe you should work harder to make up for all the things i've given up for you. i can't believe she gave up a promotion to spend time with me. i mean realistically speaking, i can't believe it. because i know its not as noble as she makes it seem. i know there must be more factors than that, there's never only one. like for instance, i know she doesn't even like her job that much anyway. and by 'spend time with you' i guess she meant, atleast in part, look after you, make sure you're eating, make sure you're studying, and all of that.

it really disturbs me how she can live a life only for her family. how she has no friends. it must be an awful sort of half-life. yet at the same time i can't imagine her doing anything else, as much as i wish for her to go out and have her own life sometimes. i guess i've grown very used to it already.

she's right. i never admit it to her, but she's right. sometimes i can't wait to get out of home. but it isn't because i don't love her, she is the one single person in the world i love more than anything else, or anyone else. its just that sometimes its a little overwhelming, and i want to know what its like to be out there, on my own. i want to know what its like to make mistake and not have someone shield me, and i want to know what its like to face the world without a mama duck behind me, quacking the enemies away.

i guess its also a relief for her, and i sure as hell hope she didn't mean of all what she's said. but she's said it, and even if it was in a moment of anger, it must have meant something for it to come out a harshly as it did. i don't want to belittle it and say that she didn't mean it. of course she must have meant it. and yes, it hurts to read message after message of your own mother calling you ungrateful, telling you you're not worth what she's given up, and telling you that she never expected anything from (out of?) you. but she's already said it and she can't take it back. and i won't forget that she said all of it. and a little part of me wishes that everything will go back to normal tmr morning but something tells me it won't, and this is some sort of turning point in our relationship.

i really do hate fighting with her, and i wish she would put aside her ego and pride to come talk to me because i'm ready to do the same.

2007-03-04T13:40:00.000+08:00

it isn't my fault. really. he forgot to print out the script, and i was patient and i asked him nicely and he blew up at me. it really is not my fault.

you know i really just want to stop. i don't know why im continuing with this violin thing, when i'm not extremely emotionally attached to it. and i'm getting nowhere. and the amount of commitment it takes to get anywhere is not something i am willing or able to put in, especially not this year. or i could just drop to once a week, and choose not to do the exam. so i will still be playing by name, just balancing both. this seems like the rational thing to do.

they can't make me do anything. i can do what i choose. they can only suggest things, really . and use it against me for life of course.

at worst, between us, its good.

2007-03-03T21:10:00.000+08:00

today i was in school and i did some good productive studying. actually it was good, but i was very slow. but thats partly because i spent time going through everything and trying to absorb everything properly before i go on. but i guess thats just the price of not paying attention during lectures. i can't afford to do this for everything though, there just isn't enough time.

then i spoke to you and everything went downhill. i need to do some serious thinking about this. aside from the whole getting along thing, i know there's more to it than that so i'm not even going to consider that yet. i think there's something more basic to consider. like what is it that i feel about you, and whether this is something that's going to last? and whether its alright to feel like this. i feel guilty, because i've already got something to think about and then you came along and i almost feel like it is an opportunity that i want to grab. that it might help me veer away from all the things i've been feeling over the last year, which is going nowhere. its just new, and its fresh and i want to have it.

but i think i'm getting more emotionally involved the more i think about it. at first it was just kind of a light thing, but from the moment i saw the slightest hint of possibility, i began getting very excited about it all. i think i like you because it might work. but i like you too, as a person. i think you're a very good person, and i know i could trust you. but today i realised how very, very, very little i know about you. maybe if i got to know you better i will find something about you that i don't like, although i really doubt it. this is exactly what it was like with j* last year. it was such an immature relationship because you need to dislike and like, in order to be mature about things. but a part of me doesn't want to be mature about anything, i just want to dive into it without thinking about consequences because that's been so hard already. but what if i get to know you and find out more real things about you, other than the fact that you're nice and you're funny. like darker things about you. like about who YOU like. i got a taste of that yesterday and it made my heart sink. but maybe if i'm around you more when you're serious, and when you're thinking, it might make me like you even more. i don't know.

i guess what everyone says is right, that there's nothing i can do now i just have to give it some time. to see where it goes. no point being impatient.

sometimes i get the feeling everyone knows what i'm thinking, or what im saying to others about other people. and its just really scary, because i think the whole world would hate me, everyone would think i was such a bitch if they knew the things i was thinking, or saying. or they would just think i was really, really weird and not want to talk to me anymore. because i think about people in very different ways from most people, i think. i think i choose to relate to people on different basis' from how others choose to relate to me, or people in general. but i dont know because nobody talks about these things. so for all you know everyone could be thinking the same thing. and you know what, i am SO over the trying to be different from everyone else thing. really. i think i must work on trying to get along with people better, i can be such a git sometimes.

just for me, only today

2007-02-27T20:05:00.000+08:00

today was a nice icekimo afternoon, talking about life and living and loving and fucking (or not). i like afternoons like these but i suspect i won't have many more of them, because soon we will be all caught up in everything. and once we're done untangling ourselves we'll be off.

this morning was nice, because i finally got a punch back.
you were right, am i not happy with the way things are? the answer is yes, i am.

by the way, what do you think is the criterion? i am not very confused about it, but i am a little. only to the extent that i want to know what the right decision is, if i make it. i doubt i will do anything about this one, because i always screw things up when i start it and i think it might just be a trend.

2007-02-26T21:37:00.000+08:00

i just felt like coming back here,
i decided i miss the brown of this page, and it has stopped infuriating me.

i don't know who reads this anymore, and frankly i've learnt not to really care. its been a while, and i don't know if i'm back for good but sedder just feels more like home, and more like me

2006-04-12T14:04:00.000+08:00

in a quest for subtlety.
which i've never been good at anyhow.

i've just never seen the point of it, even the walls have ears (or was it eyes?)
just to say you probably shouldn't be here much longer, its a waste of your time. don't expect anything in a while, because the brown of this page infuriates me.

until next time.

2006-04-07T20:31:00.000+08:00

There is much in your absence, in the lack of your smell and the softness in between your fingers. There is much in the absence of the familiar feel of your neck, and my powdery crumbly cheek against it. Moonlight and Magnolias, Starlight in your hair- all the world's a dream come true. There is much in the absence of the rise and fall of your back, and feeling it through my hands. Its in the way you keep me hanging on a thread; you mock me as I watch, and even when I don't.

Its in the way you pronounce your words, and the way you end your sentences; in the way you walk and talk and laugh. There is infinite beauty in your sigh, and it reverberates for a lot longer than you intend it to, have you noticed?

Its more than prose, or poetry, or songs. Its a cosmic dance, and we're both leaders and followers. We're both only learning the steps, but you know what? Our strut is too confident to allow us to trip anyhow. Its in the stars, and in the starlight. Someday I'd like to sit and watch the stars with you, because there could be nothing more perfect than watching ourselves reflected across the night sky. More perfect. Its one of those concepts nobody can really grasp, but everyone pretends to. But we're more than a concept- I don't know what we are, but we're more than that. We're dancers, and in our swirls and twirls we lose the others and the things that don't matter. The concept is the seed- that falls off after we've been germinated, and we have.

I want to never be able to forget the smell of your hair, and the way it feels when I run my fingers through it. I want to remember the feel of your arm wrapped round my shoulder, and I want you to remember the same. I want to feel rain on my skin and yours, through many more bouts of sickness, and health. There are a lot of things I wish for- my blood won't let me stop. Perhaps its what I've been fed. More likely though, its what you taught me. In ways you could never imagine.

This is plebeian, just like love.
But then so are we, and that's why I want to dance with nobody else, because you taught me that.

2006-04-04T19:30:00.000+08:00

Had we but world enough, and time
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.

2006-04-02T10:16:00.000+08:00

we're blessed with each other, and rainy afternoons.
let the world unravel
around us- too soon, too soon.

too soon to pray, and too soon to keep
our hands in our pockets;
too soon to weep.

there is the necessary, and then there is more,
your foot on the dividing line,
and I crash upon your ankle shore.

Kings among Runaways

2006-04-01T07:34:00.000+08:00

We're both sitting down in our secret hideaway, and being trapped in this bubble means more to me than anything. Because in this bubble, the trees are green and the buildings don't have cracks in them. There is enough air for the both of us, we don't have to share. There is music, and it's playing in your ear and in mine. In our bubble there's something in your face and in your absence of words that makes my heart sink and my head float.

It isn't about what's wrong and what's right anymore. You and I both know that words like wrong and right are nothing more than opinion, collective or otherwise. None of this is more than an opinion- and opinions are of little consequence to me these days. Because I know it is something more than that, that I'd so much rather cling on to, something steader, something harder, and something I can trust far more than an opinion. The lines between right and wrong are skewed and dotty and I want nothing more than to be able to forget that they exist, and run into my own horizons, while consciously stepping over them.

I love long train rides, because they make me so grateful for company. They make me so grateful, and they put something back in me that every long day makes me forget I had. I know what you think, you know what I think, there is only little that can be added or subtracted between us anymore. Sitting there, hearing the tracks fly beneath us only makes me thankful that I'm not doing it alone, as silly as it may sound. It makes me thankful that you're here riding the world with me, and that I'll always have your shoulder to rest my head on. Even if it adds or subtracts against my will. My will is nothing more than an opinion.

I wish you all the sunrays and saturdays in the world, as well as perfect rainy evenings seeing the sky turn darker with no want for tears. I wish you many more songs, and many more words that I don't feel the need to say because I know you read it. Perhaps we're too impulsive, but sometimes I feel that the most mature people are those who act on impulse, instead of running in circles of thought and arriving at the same conclusion in the end.

I got the shoes. I bought them on impulse. They're beautiful, and we all know it. Perhaps we need to make more of these purchases once in a while, where we've been blurred by reality, so cleverly disguised as emotion.

2006-03-29T22:43:00.000+08:00

Did I drive you away?
I know what you’ll say,
You say, “Oh, sing one we know,”
But I promise you this,
I’ll always look out for you,
That’s what I’ll do.

2006-03-28T20:02:00.000+08:00

You capture my greys, and put them down in black and white.
I know you think in colour, like I do. I know you dream about the mambo kings, and about their songs of love.

So we're going to go to hell. And we're going to burn there. This I've heard a million times, from the anger and the left shoulder. Somehow, none of it matters anymore to me, because I'm blind to the peripheries.

But this is me, at my purest. This is me with a sackfull of cliches on my back and a blunt knife in my hand, walking towards my crisp paper sunset. Crash and burn, they call it. I say its clarity- because its my own virgin sunset, and it's as pure as I am.

2006-03-27T23:54:00.000+08:00

Phoenix from the Flames
We will rise together

2006-03-26T22:37:00.000+08:00

This generation is not one of apathy. There are incentives, and their lack. We walk around with necklaces of clouds, and our nostrils getting more than their supply of air. We're kings and queens of convenience, but we do not lie low, nor do we slouch.

I don't believe we are apathetic. Apathy involves detatchment, adn we are not detatched. We are immersed, our wrinkled fingers clamping our noses shut, and our all-seeing eyes stinging from the salt.

When our 14 year olds prance around pompously in cardboard bras too large for their swollen nipples, and our little boys speak of things too big to fit into their little mouths, it sets you thinking. What do we think? What do you think? What do you want us to think? What do we want you to think? There are those who complain about it, and there are those who shrug it off as a 21st century prerogative, and move on.

There are only two types of people in this world. Those who dream in colour, and those who don't.

We're always so full of this dramatic irony. Once we were so used to the spotlight, and we strutted and fretted. It signifies nothing now, all that fury. It takes on a new form, and boldly emblazons itself on our sleeves. It is our creed- this awareness. It is a motto, unspoken of but running through every drop of teenage blood- the heroes, the villains, the ones who light and the ones who are lit. We are martyrs for this cause, all of us. The only thing that can be held against us is our overawareness, but it's killed us anyway.

All we can do before it does, is spray-paint our names on a wall, hoping that someone will see it after we're gone.

2006-03-26T16:38:00.001+08:00

2006-03-26T16:38:00.000+08:00

2006-03-26T09:11:00.000+08:00

It's an odd sunday morning, by nature of the fact that there really isn't any visible sun. The sky is even-coloured, and the light's just diffused through it. There was only one other day like this this year, and the only thing I remember about it was walking towards LT6 and telling cheng about my dad's company's cameras which has a function called cloudy day because the light diffuses exactly the same way the light diffuses on a cloudy day. But thats all I remember about that day.

Maybe I should remember things more. I tend to forget everything but details that strike me. I kind of wander through life, and it's about time I stopped and started taking notice of things and people around me, and not just their faces or the shape of their words and how they strike me. This morning I was in a sort of daze. I woke up, brushed my teeth, got a cup of milk and two bananas with honey, and sat down to read the papers. About an hour later, my mum comes marching up to me to tell me that I left the tap running, the milk open and outside, the banana peels on the table and dollops of honey spilt on the table with the honey bottle open.

The funny thing is, there was nothing on my mind. I was running events through my head, what I did yesterday, What I'm going to do today, What I'm going to do tomorrow, What I did right, What I did wrong- but that's what I do every morning. I've always been like this. Scatter-brained, they call it. I love that word, though. It has a lovely apathetic eccentric undertone.

So I'm going to have to focus. SNAP-focus

On another note, Doubt was great. Oh, the sets were brilliant! A little funny at times, but so incredible. But aside from the sets, I also loved the way it was done, the direction and the movement and the tiny details. I thought the actors were great, but perhaps thats just because I don't really act and I've always been in admiration of those who can. I'm not the best person to critique on acting, anyway. I vote him guilty, because I thought he hesitated too much and changed the topic on one too many occasion. Also, he seemed strangely and artificially nonchalant about the whole affair- and it struck me as being very suspicious.

After Doubt we stayed back to discuss the play, and talk about it, which always raises new perspectives. I love these things, and I always leave feeling so enriched. Then I went out for dinner with Kartik, Janessa, Shawn and Cheng at Cafe Cartel. I really like Cartel- i feel so extremely comfortable, and so at ease, and so happy. Perhaps its the memories of last december and how much all of that meant to me, and how happy it made me. Or perhaps its just the decor. the Cartel at city hall is beautiful, because of the whole city feeling. I love the city, and i love it more at night than during the day- but it was great nonetheless. I had to leave unfortunately early, and I went home in impossible fear, but once I got home it was alright. I had a really nice talk with my mother on school and friends and everything, and it only got me thinking even more about how fortunate I am to have the people I do around me. My mother, my father, my brother, my chechi, my classmates, the blaekes, everone. I use the word fortunate with reason. Because there is nothing I have done to deserve it. It isn't karma, it's luck.

This year is shaping up to be fantabulous. I think I've mentioned that before, anyhow. I'm so glad I grew up.

Something 'bout the way your hair falls in your face
I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase
You tell me where to go and
Though I might leave to find it
I'll never let your head hit the bed without my hand behind it

2006-03-25T11:09:00.000+08:00

This week has been awesome. Its been the best week i've had in a long long time, and I'm so glad to have the people in my life right now, because I could have never asked for better friends. I'm enormously fortunate, I don't know why I whine as much as I do.

I handed in my portfolio, after much fretting. Now we'll see how it goes. :/

On Thursday we spontaneously decided to go watch V for Vendetta, which was so fabulous because i'm far from spontaneous and it thrills me to no end when I do spontaneous things. Also, the movie itself was good. Before the movie was good, because company was great and aside from running all the way there and removing my sweater in the middle of the road (which i absolutely hate doing. its so unglam. and so ungraceful. but thats just because its me doing it.), and having to pick up dropped bags WHILE running across the road, and sweating and going to J8 and finding out it started 35 minutes later than we thought it would (of no fault of anyone, of course, and not at all roy's fault, it was fantastic. The movie itself was beyond fantastic- the script was brilliant, and the dialogue delivery was great. Except for the whole emo prison scene, which I really didn't see the point of. But the hot lesbians made up for it, so i'm not complaining.

Friday was great too. I'm so glad I'm in the class that I am, because the company is so fantastic and every single person is so special. I sound like Barney. No, but really. I lovelovelove 1A, and I'm looking forward to everything that is to come. More versions of the man game, with more additions, more loud recesses, more being told to shut up by neighbours, more nice heartwarming conversations, more sitting around laughing, more being made fun of, more everything. I really am looking forward to it.

Thanks to Reshma and Crunch and Shrew for J8, and the plan, and having the plan executed, and I think its going to be great. I hope so. Sorry to Jheeva and Prhabu for shutting you up repeatedly. But aaah so exciting.
Thanks especially to Crunch. For everything. I dont know why but I feel obliged to thank you, again and again. You're amazing.

I hope everyone who isn't feeling so good feels better soon. Especially people who are usually much happier. Its quite upsetting to see happy people upset, because you know something really is wrong, and there's nothing that you can do about it, or say, without sounding like a right little ray of sunshine. I just hope that you feel better, because that's all I seem to be able to say, but I do mean it.

Happy Birthday Aditi Shivaramakrishnan aka Dee SRK my buddy for almost my entire life, or whatever parts of it mattered anyway! I hope 17 is a great year for you, and I hope that everything to come is fantastic. I'm so glad that you've found this year good so far. It will get better, if I can help it.

Stay Clean
Don't smoke.

You hear me.
DON'T SMOKE, CHILDREN.
NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU.

2006-03-22T23:14:00.000+08:00

Ebb

Scarlet Shivers
in your speech and in my breath
the rhythm of the days,
the rhythm of your ways,
form the beat of the blood inside me.

Flow

Watery Whispers
in wisps of thought that weave and wind
through every night’s dreams
in conscious narrow streams
that mean the world to us combined.

I'm About To Come Alive- Train

2006-03-22T18:13:00.000+08:00

I can hear you downstairs crying on the phone
Telling someone that I'm here but you still feel all alone
Maybe we were too young
Goodbye, I've gotta go
I can hear the baby waking up
Got to get back to the life I know

I should have never believed him
Maybe I should just leave him

Maybe I'm not but you're all I got left to believe in
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive
And I know that it's been hard
And it's been a long time coming
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive

No one thought I was good enough for you
Except for you
Don't let them be right
After all that we've been through
'Cause somewhere over that rainbow
There's a place for me
A place with you

In every frame upon our wall
Lies a face that's seen it all
Through ups and downs and then more downs
We helped each other off of the ground
No one knows what we've been through
Making it ain't making it without you

Maybe I'm not but you're all I got left to believe in
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive
And I know that it's been hard
And it's been a long time coming
Don't give up on me
I'm about to come alive

2006-03-20T19:09:00.001+08:00

Sympathy is not the same as empathy. And if you sympathise, you must not know what heartbreak is like because that's empathy. They're two different things, and its about time we learnt the difference. The difference makes all the difference, as they say. Do they? They should.

Its like in the movies when a kid drops his ice cream cone just before his first lick, and the entire cinema heaves this collective sigh. Thats sympathy, baby, at its purest and most innocent.

Give me back my words. I don't feel anger, or remorse or regret. But give them back to me anyway, because I could use them again someday. And I don't feel safe when they're with you. Now there's doubt dwelling in my mouth, indistinguishable from the aftertaste of a fever, and of disappointment. Run of the mill? I think not. Your cup runneth over (and into mine, empty till now.)

So rock and roll so corporate suit
So damn ugly, so damn cute
So well trained, so animal
So need your love, so fuck you all

My cuckoo cries for me.
Lally Lally Lally.

2006-03-19T22:44:00.000+08:00

2000 miles is very far through the snow
I think of you wherever you go

She's gone 2000 miles, it's very far
The snow came falling now
Get's colder day by day, I miss you

I hear people singin'
It felt like Christmas time

SiMUN says more.

2006-03-19T14:16:00.000+08:00

ok i dont think i did anything justice with my last SiMUN post, and i've decided to do a better post out of it.

I didn't think debates were fantastic- nowhere as good as RMUN was. The quality of some of the arguments were appallingly bad, but there were also some very well thought out, well articulated ones. Surprisingly few though, and mostly in GA. Environmental council was alright. I thought it was very real, and I didn't feel like i was making things up, or speaking about something I didn't quite understand. Not to say I understand everything about the environment. I mean to say that I didn't feel out of place, like I thought i would.

General Assembly, on the other hand, was a whole different issue. I paid attention where I could, and tried so hard to keep up with everything that was going on. I have a not-quite-so-rare talent for zoning out, and I must admit I did that quite a bit. But I made a concerted effort on the third day to focus. And I leant a lot more on the third day than I did on the second. I wish I had participated a bit more, you always get more out of things when you're directly involved in it.

But, having said that, navjote is goooooood. Spot on target. And it was hilarious- all the concealed note passing and the puns and the language. And we never got warned- not once. WOohoO! NAd Navjote got what he wanted, yay! You so owe me man. But i won't harp on it. Because it was your effort. I was merely doing my duty, as an obedient islamic sister.

Kudos to Alya for going up to speak despite being so jittery, and for doing a great job out of it. To Ragavi of Algeria for being such a sport, and for handling things so well despite the pressure. To Teddy and Wei Lip for being so alert and on task and everything. To Xue Yang, and congratulations on his wedding! To Sam Jo for being such a riot, for the impersonations and the laughs. To Navjote for providing comic relief, and for being such an inspiration in terms of goal setting and achieving. haha. To Sam and his happy house of fun, because he deserves to be mentioned for going up to speak so many times and making sense all of those times. and for demanding Panama's deflowerment. I thought everyone did such a fantastic job, and I had such a great time on hindsight, even if there were times where i didn't enjoy it during the conference itself.

There you go.
A Proper Entry. :)

Cheers, and yay school begins tomorrow!

2006-03-18T20:15:00.000+08:00

We wait for the sky to fall on our heads, and do whatever we can until it happens, to seek redemption and salvage our losses and (eventually) ourselves. Nothing more, nothing less. No love, no hate, no emotion. And most of all, no romance.

No time for holding hands, or making plans; for laughing in your face, or letting you rest on my shoulder. None of that fuck. Because we run too fast, and the rush of the wind on our faces in incomparably satisfying.

Romance, my friend, exists only if you want it to. When you see the world through naked eyes, you only see the lack of heartbeats, the pushing and shoving, and the only thing you feel is the exhaustion from the race to get there.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Simun Says

2006-03-18T17:53:00.000+08:00

Today was the last day of SiMUN, which is quite a pity really because I enjoyed myself quite a bit. More than I would have sitting at home, anyway.
The debates themselves were quite terrible, especially those in the environmental committee 2 (considering I don't know what went on in the rest anyway), and General Assembly proved to be a lot more interesting, for all the wrong reasons.

Viva la Revolution!

While on the way to the bus stop, I had a conversation that sparked off a series of rather Garpian thoughts in my head. The rest of my life is really only going to get worse. I'm going to have to face more and more responsibility with every year of my life, and am not going to be able to do stupid things and get away with it for much longer than I already have. Its a troubling thought, and one that I always put away to the back of my mind because i don't have the guts to stare it in the face.

I don't feel like writing about it much further.
I don't feel like doing anything these days. I don't feel anything. I'm just dragging myself forth into a new day, hoping that something more exciting will come my way. Maybe i'm just hoping for too much. My life has got to be quite exciting, by someone's standards. Maybe I should just change my standards.

Grak. If only things were that simple, Sneha Raghavan.

I've got to stop talking to myself.
Its a sign of lunacy.

But John Irving said it best.
In the world of Garp, we are all terminal cases.

2006-03-15T18:04:00.000+08:00

i just ate some papaya.
it tasted like seal.

i am ruined.

2006-03-15T12:00:00.000+08:00

I had a strange dream last night.
It involved me and sruthy in russia, consuming muesli bars to keep alive.
they tasted excellent, like no muesli bar i'd ever tasted before.

after eating our first bar, and shivering slightly less than we were before, shrew turns around sharply to ask me-
"sneha? is this vegetarian?"
and i (quite obligatorily) checked the ingredients on the packaging, and found that it was made out of seals, dolphins and whales. cut up, packed tightly together, and (shudder) raw.

its a nasty idea, and almost made me want to quit eating meat altogether. maybe i will. maybe i wont.
maybe you should stop sighing and shaking your head and get back to reading the rest of this entry.

so the whole morning i had the imagined taste of marine mammals in my mouth, and couldn't really focus on much else. i could feel the fluids in my stomach turn over and do some strange calisthenics inside of me.

it was with this taste that i left for violin class in the mornings.

at this juncture it would only be right to tell you that my violin classes have not been going very productively as of late, due to the frequent admonishing and the long periods of silence (where i dont know what to play and my teacher doesnt know what to say, and just sits there shaking his head and mumbling.) and this is when i have no tastes in my mouth. so when i have a very distracting taste in my mouth, it only gets worse.

so i sat there playing whatever i could, and not playing whatever i couldn't, and fidgetting everytime i got scolded (at rather regular intervals, mind you.) and kept thinking of the poor seals that got killed to make my muesli bar. and i could almost hear them call to me- "garp garp garp". and THEN i understood the origins of my strange dream. last night, before going to bed, i was reading the world according to garp, and it struck me that Garp's name (which is Garp, of course), sounds awfully like the sound a sealion makes.

and once this dawned upon me, the taste suddenly disappeared.
and the stomach churning was gone.

this, however, was no sign of a possible improvement of my violin playing. and the remaining one hour and forty five minutes of my lesson was equally bad. because i had mental images of potatoes and hillbillies, and they didn't let me focus very much on anything else.
i have yet to find out the origins of this one.

reliving this entire morning is giving me the heebie jeebies, and the churning is coming back to my stomach. and its all your fault, you lonely blog reader you. such efforts i take to please you. you have my soul! i have nothing left to offer, now leave me alone!

someday im going to look at this and cringe.

2006-03-14T19:48:00.000+08:00

My media player is a fucking prophet, i tell you.

i didn't know what i was thinking, and i didn't know what to think and i was consciously hoping that someone would come up to me and hit me twice (very hard) on the head and tell me what i should be thinking.

And it played me this song.

***

Walk On- U2

And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring
Love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind...

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Oh, oh
Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed, to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly, for freedom

Oh, oh
Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can't deny it
Can't sell it, or buy it
Walk on, walk on
You stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
And your heart, it breaks
You can only take so much

Walk on...
Walk on...

Home...
Hard to know what it is, if you never had one
Home...
I can't say where it is, but I know I'm going
Home...
That's where the hurt is...

And I know it aches
And your heart, it breaks
And you can only take so much

Walk on...
(Hooo)

Leave it behind
You got to leave it behind
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you feel

All this you can leave behind

All that you reason, (it's only time)
(Love is a feeling on my mind)
All that you sense
All that you scheme
All you dress-up
All that you've seen
All you create
All that you wreck
All that you hate

***

thanks to Shawnmugam Chua for sending it to me because it made my day. and for all the other great songs too.

i feel like a truck ran over me.
make that two trucks.
and they took a turn and came back to do it again.

and then bono popped out of the second one and sang me that song, and somehow it offered momentary relief. but then bono hopped right back in and drove away.

and when you talk about bono and trucks you know its time to end your entry, Sneha Raghavan.

ugh.

2006-03-12T23:31:00.000+08:00

Its been a strange week.

Strange is the word i use when i can't find any other word to describe something.
Its made me realise a lot of things about myself, and about the people around me. About how much i need to change, and how much trouble i've been asking for. Thats a euphemism for what a bitch i've been, if you didn't get that. And about relationships, and that the only thing definite about any relationship is its transcience.

Not that thats a bad thing. It just feels like a boulder got thrown on my head, and now i have to deal with it.

I went shopping on saturday which made me less confused because, well, goodies make me happy and take my mind of things. Not to say I'm confused now. No sirree. I'm still quite happy. Either goodie-happiness takes a while to wear off, or I really do feel better.

This is going to a tumultous week. I've got history readings to finish (and thoughts to organise), math to catch up on (and lots of it), economics to read (ditto), gp to organise, and violin to practice. so much violin to practice. and all this in three days. and then there is the horror that is simun. i don't know what to expect, so im not going to expect anything. call me an old paranoid penguin but i think it will be a frightening pee in your pants experience.

anyhow. i think i will go now. the mother says that i need to be awake at 7 tomorrow, and she didn't look like she wanted to be contradicted. and so i didn't.

hope the rest of you have holidays that you can speak better about.
over and out.

2006-03-09T12:50:00.000+08:00

There is too much significance in all of this. Too much want, too much thirst. There are too many stars in the sky, and there's too much light in all of them. We attach ourselves too strongly to the ebb and flow of time and its consequences, and we harbour too much hope to be healthy.

We think in terms of absolutes, and the sharpness of the blacks and the whites skew the way we think. They push us around, and topple us over. There are many things that have been left to us, to our own decisions- but we take it too lightly. We fight and tackle the storms that rage against us, and more often than not, we emerge holding the flag of victory. Strangely enough, its white and wordless.

You reduce me to poetry, my friend.
You break me into tiny little pieces, each piece weighing down on the others, and all of them drops in the tides of time.
That's all we are, and that's all we're worth anymore. We're born, we leave your clumsy footsteps wherever we can, in soil and water and hearts, and then we carelessly fall over to our death. And then there are tears for us, from our birds and our trees and our clouds. And of course, we get washed away in the grand scheme of things. Because we're just not grand enough.

So we cry. Tears do not hurt, its only their reasons that do. Deal with it, baby.

Tears do not speak enough words to justify thoughts, even to myself. You asked me questions, and I asked you mine. You answered, and I answered. You told me things and I didn't respond.

We walk along dusty roads, up stairs and feel the walls along the way, in the hope that they'll show us where we're headed. We look for clues in speech, and think through touch. And soon we'll know we've had enough. Soon we're bored, and we try to find other ways to live our lives, perhaps with more fullness.

This is beautiful to someone as blind as I am.
So are you, even to pieces.

2006-03-08T18:30:00.000+08:00

Every once in a while you put on your earphones, and you listen to a song that pretty much sums up everything you're feeling. You take out a notebook and try writing something, but there are no words for a lack of words, so nothing of great significance comes out of your head.

So you just use someone else's words to convey it, and it does perfect justice to you, and is better than anything you could have probably written. Minus that fact that you didn't.

This is one of those songs.
There lies so much truth in these words that its painful.

Eternity
Written by: Robbie Williams and Guy Chambers

Close your eyes so you dont feel them,
They dont need to see you cry
I cant promise I will heal you,
But if you want to I will try.

I sing the summer serenade
The past is done, we've been betrayed, its true.
Someone said the truth will out
I believe without a doubt, in you

You were there for summer dreamin',
And you gave me what I need.
And I hope you'll find your freedom,
For eternity, for eternity.

Yesterday when you were walking,
You talked about your Mom and Dad.
What they did that made you happy,
What they did that made you sad.

We sat and watched the sun go down,
Picked a star before we lost the moon.
Youth is wasted on the young,
Before you know its come and gone too soon.

You were there for summer dreaming,
And you gave me what I need.
And I hope you'll find your freedom,
For eternity, for eternity.

I sing the summer serenade,
The past is done, we've been betrayed, its true.
Youth is wasted on the young,
Before you know its come and gone, too soon.

You were there for summer dreamin',
And you are a friend indeed.
And I hope you'll find your freedom,
For eternity.

You were there for summer dreamin',
And you are a friend indeed.
And I know you'll find your freedom,
Eventually, for eternity, for eternity.

City Lights

2006-03-05T18:42:00.000+08:00

City lights, lead me home.
past the pleasing poverty, for I will not mourn.
Give me your beams, and your beams I will bend,
package them in parcels and away I will send.

In his eyes a compass rose,
yet in his words no poem or prose.
A map on his palm, such plains it shows.
I feel it- it flows, it flows, it goes.

City lights, show me the way,
beyond these prophets of a dusty day
These roads of bleak, you know where they take me.
Be my neon nightingale, cry if he breaks me.

A song of words that are not his own,
he'll sing to the rhythm of fibreglass bones.
Beside me he will cling onto my words
When the bow breaks, he'll sing with the birds.

City lights, lend me your wings.
Let me know of the turns and the bends.
Let me feel your greens and your blues
For my nirvana lies in your hues.

And please forgive us, we know not what we say.
These are but musings of a dilattante, inside we pray
for truth and the meaning of a joyous cement dawn
where your light caresses us, your young pleading fawn.

hiatus

2006-03-01T21:00:00.000+08:00

on hiatus.
for as long as i see a need to sustain it.

2006-03-01T19:49:00.000+08:00

You've stopped writing letters to people you don't know or can't name, and you've stopped expecting replies that you'llnever know if you've gotten. There are some things you can't touch but you can feel. You can't hold it in your hands but you can hold it in other places.

I sit on a train and try to decipher what my center says to me. It must not appear like I am swaying, though I must. It must not appear like I'm calling out, and answering to things that were never asked of me. It must not be noticed, this call that causes you to lean towards me. Consciousness will only disrupt our dance, and I intend on finishing it with all the right steps.

Questions you asked me a long time ago appear in shadows, and echo in songs. Questions I would answer differently, if you asked me again. Questions that mean slightly more than my answers, but slightly less than they're worth. In the syllables they speak, i hear your sounds. In murmurs, I hear your words. They come alive, and perform for me, with rigour, and the anticipation of applause.

I wonder if you've noticed, my dear, the irony of what it means to be consciously unaware? You can't hold my hand on your right and speak to the clouds on your left. It just don't work that way. When i sit down and trace the lines on your palm with my finger, its not just my finger speaking to you. Its me, in my entirety. The sweat that runs from the end of my finger to your palm, it carries a charge that you feel. I feel you feeling it. Yet I feel your grip on yourself, and i wonder if you know what i'm thinking.

You're consciously unaware, and I'm just conscious. That's the difference between us.

Its all a race, do you realise? Are you with me, or against me? By me or behind me? I could go on forever with these questions, but it takes time, and my rabbit awaits my arrival with his tick-tock clock. If my every step doesnt synchronise with his every second, he will make sure i trip. That would waste even more time, and I intend on winning.

I'll hold all your thoughts, dreams, feelings, words; all your murmurs, sounds, movements, sweat; all your questions, all my answers, and all these voices- wherever i can hold them, and run. I'll run with the wind in my hair, and pray that you make it there soon.

Its been a long time coming, and I'm about to come alive.

2006-02-28T21:26:00.000+08:00

All your dreams are made
Of Strawberry lemonade
And you make sure
I eat today
You take me walking
To where you played
When you were young

I'll never say that I
Won't ever make you cry
And this I'll say
I don't know why
I know I'm leavin'
But I'll be back another day

2006-02-27T21:59:00.000+08:00

come play with me, baby
the games of our lives.

let's fall together, baby
then lets hold hands and cry

when we're done we'll sing together,
if we're not in tune we'll try

come play with me, baby.
and we'll play ourselves dry.

2006-02-25T10:55:00.000+08:00

We inch closer to that final moment, in shuffles and sniffs. we brush our hair, smell our sleeves, feeling every crease until every thread speaks to us. But its more than just touch, and we know that.

We feel the light upon us, in titillating flashes and colours, and cannot help but wonder about someone or the other. We always think about someone else and when we have seen the light, we think about ourselves (as an afterthought). Perhaps thats why they say we are animals. Because none of this is anything more than a quest for a partner. To sit with, to stand with, to eat with, to sing with, to answer to. To be with. We cannot help but wonder what the light would do. Does it fly? Or is it just momentarily suspended in the air, on a rope that hangs by seven threads? Will it come crashing down on us? If it does, will it hurt?

We stop to hear the music. Words put to a tune, or a tune put to words. Its rhythmic adjustment, and it makes us jump up and down, our insides beating fast to catch up with the rush thats going to our heads. We sweat; every drop a testimony to our desperation to be part of a scheme. You, me, us, them, the voices, the beats, the lights, the rhythm, the masses. Thats what we've been reduced to, now. Thats all we're worth anymore. Believe it.

Sometimes they stop to see if the crowd sings along.
No, they stop to let the crowd hear themselves sing.
No, they stop to hear the crowd sing.

No, dumbfuck. They stop for a drink.

After enough of the light has been soaked into our skin, you realise that there remain some things too ephemeral to think twice about. Then the transience of it all hits you hard from behind, and makes you bend over double and choke in the shock of it all. You never thought about it before, and when you do, you don't know what else to think about. Now, not even the light will distract you.

They say she will wait. She knows its too late. She knows more than you think she does. She knows more than bones and fingers and skin. She knows more than tears, whoever they belong to. She knows more than the glint in your eye when you smile. Frankly, she knows more than she wants to know. She knows more than what she believes is true.

But its more than the truth, and you know that.
Now you know all you can do is wait, upon midriffs and the waves and tides of hair.

2006-02-22T22:41:00.000+08:00

it feels very strange when you are happy but everyone else is not.

its a horrible kind of guilt.
sometimes i make myself feel bad just so that i can fit in better.

2006-02-21T22:38:00.000+08:00

I like to sleep beneath the trees
Have the universe at one with me
Look down the barrel of a gun
And feel the Moon replace the Sun

2006-02-20T20:08:00.000+08:00

So you're with, without, with, without. Every petal on your flower means something else to you, and plucking them off and delicately placing them on the table means little more than saying those three words in the first place.

but there's something in seeing those petals lined up one next to the other, (like soldiers of your army), that pulls you down in a way that words, written or spoken, could never do. This is the unspoken word. It is a communication that is felt through heartbeats, and the absence of them.

It all seems so fucking pretty it makes you sick to your stomach. Loneliness isn't meant to be pretty. Its meant to pull the lining of your stomach from the inside, and wrench you dry of tears. None of that is pretty to me. Not even the flowers. They're the ugliest flowers I've seen.

There is something curiously palpable about loneliness. You hold it in a single hand, and curl your fingers over it just so that your thumb touches your pointer, and yet its so large that it holds you within its perimeters, in your entirety. Perhaps loneliness is not about the cessation of feeling, or a void, or a vacuum, or flowers. Perhaps its about the existence of dearth, and the measure of it.

jagdssc

2006-02-19T18:35:00.000+08:00

living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking.
loving might be a mistake but its worth making.

Thanks for everything. Looking forward to Wednesday. :)

2006-02-19T09:52:00.000+08:00

Its been a completely unproductive and grudgingly slow week, but its culminated in a good, motivational weekend.

I sat down and read through my history notes today, and forced myself to make my way through it and organise the thoughts in my head. By the end of it, I understood most of what Bradley Lightbody was trying to say (yes i am still at the lightbody article. so sue me.) and I was able to formulate answers to the questions, even.

That is a major milestone for me this year. Because, for the first time, I have a sense of direction.

History and me have a love-hate relationship. I love reading it, and learning new things, and thinking, and forming opinions, and having intellectual discussions with people about the things we learn, and formulating answers to questions. At the same time, I hate it when I don't understand something, or say something wrong and embarrass myself. But I know that there's no way i can get to the former without going through the latter first. And this has been my primary source of internal conflict since the year started.

You see, Humanz are very smart. I love smart. But I also hate being at the bottom of the hierarchy, if there even is a hierarchy. I always think in terms of hierarchies. I should stop.

No, I am not self-deprecating. These are only observations. I am not slipping down the slope of self-appreciation into the depths of depression, or anything of similar nature. I am quite fine.

What I'm trying to say is, I finally understand how much work I need to put in to get anywhere. At the end of last year, I had these grand plans of working hard and reading and asking questions, and I had these images of what lectures would be like and how I would contribute to them and enjoy every bit of it and come out feeling highly intelligent and enriched. What i realised today, was that none of that is just going to happen. Its a slow, hard, laborious process, as A levels are generally considered to be. I have stopped expecting good things to just sort of happen to me, as of today.

I can't believe how tremendously stupid all this sounds when you put it down in words. Usually it works the other way.

For starters- why do you think the Russians always called themselves democratic, even though they weren't, really? The Soviet Union never really had an election, and Stalin was, after all, a dictator. The people of the Germany never really had a say in who was to rule them in the immediate aftermath of the war, so why did the Soviet zone call itself the East German Democratic Republic? Did they define a democracy in their own terms? Can you even do that?

Was it just a matter of naming it? What do you think went through their minds when they were thinking of what to call their zone?

Fascinating.

The best thing about things like this, is that you can ask all the questions you want without giving a concrete answer, and it will only show that you've been thinking more. Not less.

There you go.
Sneha the Improved.
Hah!

Calling all angels

2006-02-14T23:45:00.001+08:00

I need a sign to let me know you're here
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere
I need to know that things are gonna look up
Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup
When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head
When you can feel the world shake from the words that I said

And I'm calling all angels
And I'm calling all you angels

And I won't give up if you don't give up
I won't give up if you don't give up
I won't give up if you don't give up
I won't give up if you don't give up

I need a sign to let me know you're here
Cause my tv set just keeps it all from being clear
I want a reason for the way things have to be
I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me

And I'm calling all angels
And I'm calling all you angels

When children have to play inside so they don't disappear
While private eyes solve marriage lies cause we dont talk for years
And football teams are kissing queens and losing sight of having dreams
In a world where all we want is only what we want untill it's ours

And I'm calling all angels
And I'm calling all you angels
And I'm calling all angels
(I won't give up if you don't give up)
And I'm calling all you angels
(I won't give up if you don't give up)
Calling all you angels
(I won't give up if you don't give up)
Calling all you angels
(I won't give up if you don't give up)
Calling all you angels

***

Thanks everyone for today. It was very, to say the least, atmospheric.
And the best presents dont cost any money at all. You'll remember them forever, even when they're not there for you to touch and hold anymore.

For the record, i don't think im excessively cynical. I enjoyed the day. I really did.

2006-02-13T23:13:00.000+08:00

i don't like eternal optimists.

words and their absence

2006-02-13T20:44:00.000+08:00

Why do people only feel comfortable when they're filling the air with words?

Sometimes I feel that the thing I am most afraid of is silence. i hate sitting in front of someone staring into their eyes, without knowing what to say. Or without a need to say anything. Its perplexing how we all seek clarity, but when we have it, and express it through silence, its never enough.

I like hearing what you don't have to say. I really do. I'm just not used to satisfaction. Its not without a reason that i keep insisting you talk to me. I just have this feeling that if you stop talking to me, then we'll have nothing to talk about and then we're all doomed because we will be hanging on to an awkward silence. Awkward silences aren't very pleasant things to hang on to. They make me feel all itchy.

But Morrie said that we must get used to silences. As we must get used to tears, and touch. I listened to Morrie, really, as much as i appeared not to. He made a lot of sense, although it was sense packaged in hallmark sugary goodness. You learn to suck your way past the goodness, into the hard bitter truth. Which is that we must get used to silences.

it should come as no surprise that people describe conversations with me as circular.

All I have is a voice. We must love one another or die. We must love one another or die.

2006-02-11T11:28:00.000+08:00

So I'm listening to Mozart and his songs-with-fancy-names, and watching violin bows swoop across the strings in rehearsed, practiced perfection. In my head, there is another song, of far less significance than Mozart-with-a-capital-M. But its in my head. That must mean something.

The stars spoke to me last night. They said they wouldn't tell anyone my name. They said they would sail me to the moon. They told me that this was better than any movie I had ever seen. I wouldn't go back empty. They showed me the city sky that reflected the silver street below. They looked so good it hurt sometimes.

And just when we spoke of symphony number 40 and what we were missing, the stars showed me that the night was well worth all effort, with their own little symphony of sorts. I watched the lights light up my skin, and I watched the lights change colour and shape and form and rhythm.
After a while I stopped thinking about it in terms of words, and just felt it rush through me.

There is something about nights like these that make you see the bigger scheme of things. Great lights, great music, and more importantly, great company. But its also about rhythm, and when you skip a beat by mistake. Its about looking for the right note, and hitting it. Its about finding metaphors without words. Its about finding words, without cliches.

At the end of it, you realise that with symphonies like this, you don't need to know when to applaud. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Our stars know what we're thinking. As do our angels.

2006-02-11T11:22:00.000+08:00

So what do we do, from now till yesterday?
We're all sitting around a table, and laughter drowns out the sounds of anything else. The music is just bearably loud, and just enough to keep the noises in my head.

Just enough.

There are too many diatribes, with the bitter of each left floating in the air. once everyone is done speaking, what is usually called an awkward silence lingers in the spaces between people and their voices. Its not really silent, though. Its saturated with thoughts and vibes and circles and lines and waves and all of them are constantly buzzing and humming around you and through you.

But we only hear what we want to. Only the diatribes seem fucking worth listening to anymore.

Gone to the Movies

2006-02-09T22:25:00.000+08:00

Now the rain comes down the windows and it
Drops onto the forehead of the waiting boy
He surveys his rental kingdom and he
Wondersif he’s really lost his joy

Another fool would go down to the
Only place she went to lose herself
She’s gone to the movies now and she don’t need your help

Now the rain turns into snowfall as the
City sky reflects the silver street below
And it covers up the cars and the wall-
Flowers cd ended half an hour ago

Another fool would dig the broken car out from the snow
And drive to find the show
She’s gone to the movies now and she’s not coming home
She’s gone to the movies now and she’s not coming home

Now he looks around his place and anyways
There’s nowhere she could sit besides the bed
And he wonders if the car will start tomorrow
Or he’ll have to take the bus instead

Any other fool would be out on the roadway
Trying to spot her rusted pontiac
She’s gone to the movies now and she’s not coming home
She’s gone to the movies now and she’s not coming home

2006-02-08T21:11:00.000+08:00

it feels fantastic when people tell you they are proud of you.
especially when its someone whose opinion means so much to you that you are scared to even ask them what they think for fear that they will say something you don't want to hear.

there are few people in the world you can still go to for honesty.
and i am so glad i still know them.

today was a good day in snehaworld.
I managed to get quite a bit of work done. Doing work makes me happy. Ticking things off my list fills me with bounds of pride, and i can only hope that it will continue to be this way.

i got my new violin. its the gorgeousest thing i've ever seen, i want to stroke it and hold it and i can't believe its mine.

there's something beautiful in the blessings of a guru. becuase my teacher doesnt usually shower me with compliments, me being the old buffalo who is still at 5th year. butbut he has a way of showing it. and i have learnt to pick out his compliments, relish them, bask in their glory and suck every bit of happiness from them as is possible. probably more than he intended to give. but it makes me happy. so sue me.

tomorrow is going to be a long day so i promise i will eat a heavy breakfast, and i promise i will not complain. and i promise i will eat more from tomorrow, and will not do stupid things like not eat because eating is boring. i love food. i just hate queueing up. i like milo bars. i cannot believe i have not discovered the joy of milo bars until today.

i have an attention span of 2 minutes.
my conscience (the good one) tells me i should go back and finish my work.

and i listen to my good conscience these days.
it makes me happy.

2006-02-08T19:53:00.000+08:00

and down the waterfall, wherever it may take me
i know that life won't break me
and when i come to call, she won't forsake me.

i'm loving angels instead.

2006-02-07T21:23:00.000+08:00

It doesn't take a lot to use words the way we do.

We fling them around, over each other's heads, and flail around with our arms in the air, and try to catch whatever we can.
We put them in our little baskets, and fish them out with eager fingers, when our tongues have gone dry.

No more.

I will feel the shape of every syllable in my mouth, gnawing on its hard edges and rolling my tongue over the marbly bits, before spitting it out.

I want to see you wait with bated breath, for what I have to offer.

2006-02-05T23:14:00.000+08:00

Go see this Memoirs of a Geisha parody, and crack yourself up. Its the funniest thing I've seen in a while.

Courtesy of Sam Da Man, who really is Da Man because he knows all the funny links. I mean ALL of them.

2006-02-03T23:56:00.000+08:00

Look where we are now.

In a queer paradise, a nirvana of sorts. The lights flicker honey, but they don't go out.

I've always wanted more, and they've always told me not to ask. So i didn't. But when I saw the stars shine, it hit me that they shine as much for her as they do for me. There's a macabre magic in the light of the stars. Makes you wonder. What are they looking at?

What's it like for you?
Tell me in words. When you shiver, does it hurt?

Wait.
Did you look like i told you to?

You don't have to if you don't want to.
But if you do you would see letters and shapes. What I see. But you would see different. You would use your fingers, long and tapered, to mould your own endings, as you moulded the beginnings. We all did. I moulded mine. Look. Don't tell me, but look. You would see that we have always been running together, you and me. Your leaps being my bounds.

Baby, don't speak. Its not about words. Just watch. Watch the greys and the browns and the reds and the greens. Watch them collide, spill over and spread. Watch as they slide before you. Watch every drip, with fervour rushing hrough your veins, and into yout heart, where it goes on. It only goes on baby, yeah yeah yeah.

So tell me, sugar. Where are we now? Where from here? Say what you say. They say habit wins the day. Victory is what we seek, isn't it? How do we know when it comes to us?

Maybe the stars will show us, if they look back on us.
I'll keep watching. Wait with me.

2006-02-03T22:40:00.000+08:00

today was a brilliant day.
sneha is pleased.

2006-02-01T23:56:00.000+08:00

it fucking sucks when you realise you're making things difficult for yourself. but cannot do anything about it.

when you're truly upset, words desert you.
I couldn't have said it better myself. I don't know what to say.
Except that I should get a grip on myself and move on.

i'm going to get a grip on myself and move on. taking what i need with me. and leaving behind what i don't.

okay evidently i have not thought this through as well as i should have.
but i will.

really.

2006-01-31T12:30:00.000+08:00

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 making of a toast and tea.

-T.S Eliot: The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock

2006-01-29T12:11:00.000+08:00

Yesterday you told me things that made me shiver.

They just don't fade. The more you try to divert your attention away from them, the louder they get. And closer too. Until they're inside of you. Liquid, and trickling down the insides of your bones. They move things within you, until you realise that things are no longer in your hands. Your fingers are not connected to your palms, your arms are not connected to your shoulders, the corners of your mouth are not connected to your eyes. Yet your heart is connected to your mouth, and you don't know why.

They don't sleep. Even when you do. They whisper words of sin in your ear, and you soak it in. Like a sponge. She told you this, and that, and the other. Why do you not remember? Why do you believe? I wish you knew. You wish I knew. I do know. What did you say? I can't hear you.

Its a smudge now, across the tangible. The intangible was never there in the first place. Its a blur. How do I cross a line that is blurry? These lines are not all the same to me. They are of different lengths, and some of these circles seem to go on longer than the others.

Your words, to me, mean more than you think. More than I think. We think too much. Far too much. In the end, when the lights fade and all these circles come together, it will be time for judgement. Perhaps all that matters in the interim is knowing that waiting is all we can do. And while waiting, we shiver in the cold. The rain drenches us through, and we sigh, holding on to the bubbles that escape from our mouths. It is all we can do, and all we should do. And probably all we need to do.

So give me your lines, and I will give you mine.
And we will lay them down, stand on them, and lean forward into the vast plains so carelessly referred to as the future.

2006-01-28T13:13:00.000+08:00

don't it make you sad to know that life is more than who we are?

2006-01-27T15:32:00.000+08:00

For this is what we do. Put one foot forward and then the other. Lift our eyes to the snarl and smile of the world once more. Think. Act. Feel. Add our little consequence to the tides of good and evil that flood and drain the world. Drag our shadowed crosses into the hope of another night. Push our brave hearts into the promise of a new day. With love: the passionate search for a truth other than our own. With longing: the pure, ineffable yearning to be saved. For so long as fate keeps waiting, we live on. God help us. God forgive us. We live on.

It is the 27th of January.
Funny how that worked out.
Funny how when one year ends, another just begins. Out of nowhere. And every year seems to reflect your last, in a strangely obstrusive way.

Its so funny that, well, it isn't anymore.

2006-01-26T22:57:00.000+08:00

scarlet shivers
in your speech and in my breath
the rhythm of the days,
the rhythm of your ways
form the beat of the blood inside me.

2006-01-25T17:45:00.000+08:00

I know its a new day.
I just wish you would too.

Mornings are particularly generous because they give you the opportunity to start again. Mornings are the best time for forgiveness, because there's something in the rays of the sun that makes hearts slightly larger than they were the night before.

Someone once told me that forgiveness is they key to all unhappiness. At first, I thought it to be one of those baseless rhetorics, but the more i think about it the more truth i find. As I do with most things. The only thing that stops people from hurting themselves repeatedly is the pain of a previous wound.

I remember saying that once before, in slightly different words. Its funny how we arrive at the same conclusions so often, without realising it after we do.

Its all just one big circle, really. You, me, us, them, friends, foe, loves, the past, the future- all of us are just walking in this circle pretending as though we have a say in what life deals to us. More often than not, as i realised yesterday, we don't. That is a very difficult thought for me to digest- that sometimes I may not have a say with decisions that concern my life. Some things leave you with so little room for choice, it breaks your heart.

I wish i was able to write this out with more fluency and coherence, but this is all i can manage to get out of myself.

Thank you god for giving me the people around me, my friends, my family, and everyone else who has played a part in helping me, for lack of a more original phrase, go on. With so much more than i ever thought i would get, or deserve.

The Scientist

2006-01-24T23:49:00.000+08:00

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start

Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart

Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart

Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start

Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start

The Sphere

2006-01-23T20:04:00.000+08:00

Within these walls
it expands

slowly.

Wet with warmth.

It will not explode.
It is well contained.
Yet the wetness soaks through
sseeping into the crimson.
Which rises
And spreads

Into the sphere.

2006-01-22T20:01:00.000+08:00

fuck the poets of the past, my friends.
there are no beautiful suicides
just cold corpses with shit in their pants
& the end of the gifts.

-courtesy postsecret.blogspot.com

2006-01-20T22:13:00.000+08:00

Today i learnt that making friends is a small step, but its keeping friends, and maintaining friendships that forms the most part of the challenge.

Its times like these that make me wonder what I'm here for, and what I want out of things.

2006-01-19T19:38:00.000+08:00

Let them leave language to their lonely betters
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep;
Words are for those with promises to keep.

Mr Purvis said literature is an appreciation of genius.
I couldn't agree more.

To put thoughts into words is painful enough. Once you put your thoughts down to words, you are held responsible for that thought. It becomes your thought, and there is little that can be done for you to shrug responsibility for that thought anymore. Yet that responsibility is a price to pay for getting the burden of the thought off your shoulders. The question is whether or not it is worth it.

I marvel at those who have the courage to assume responsibility for their thoughts. It is a step I am not willing to take as yet. Even more so for those who can actually do a good job of it, and manage to produce a literary work that can move you enough to think about it. Because that's really the first step, isn't it.

But today alone, i have realised that when you're really upset, words desert you. And I suppose that makes what are considered literary gems even more valuable. Because it is the product of a giant leap across a very tall hurdle.

Name- Goo Goo Dolls

2006-01-17T21:22:00.000+08:00

And even though the moment passed me by
I still can't turn away
Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose
Got tossed along the way
And letters that you never meant to send
Get lost or thrown away

And now we're grown up orphans
That never knew their names
We don't belong to no one
That's a shame
But if you could hide beside me
Maybe for a while
And I won't tell no one your name

And I won't tell em your name

Scars are souvenirs you never lose
The past is never far
Did you lose yourself somewhere out there
Did you get to be a star
And don't it make you sad to know that life
Is more than who we are

You grew up way too fast
And now there's nothing to believe
And reruns all become our history
A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio
And I won't tell no one your name
And I won't tell em your name

I think about you all the time
But I don't need the same
It's lonely where you are come back down
And I won't tell em your name

2006-01-15T08:41:00.000+08:00

Announcement:

I have long exceeded my SMS quota, and it is only the 15th.
So I have decided not to send out anymore SMSes for the rest of the month, unless absolutely necessary.

So if you need to contact me- either send me an email, or call me on my home number, as my handphone talktime has also exceeded its quota. Send me an sms only if it is an urgent message, and I will call you back should it require a response.

Wait. While we're at it. Since people SMS me for fun, why don't we try this instead? Email me for fun! People have stopped doing that. Nobody emails each other just to say hello anymore. We should. We should all pretend to be each other's penpals. The last penpal I had was when I was 11, but my brother convinved me that 'she' was actually a 50 year old paedophile. Now I have a closest-thing-to-a-penpal-in-this-digital-age-whom-i-wouldn't-be-able-to-recognize-
should-i-see-him-on-the-streets, but that is a completely different matter. Because I still insist upon the just-to-say-hello emails.

And let that be the new trend, that starts right here on my blog (my blog.. my blog... my blog...)

2006-01-12T22:57:00.000+08:00

How do you go on with a straight face after seeing Hemachandra cry?

This show is so different from any other singing competition on television, because there's so little gossip and backstabbing. Its truly a pleasure to watch.

Except when you see Hemachandra cry.
Heart pain. ):

She Spreads Her Wings- Semisonic

2006-01-11T19:36:00.000+08:00

At night she spreads her wings
She dreams of bigger things
She floats above the town
She sings without a sound

She can be anywhere at all
She can be anyone at all

A glow and then a shine
What she hoped she would find
Tonight, tonight

She's got a picture in her mind
She can be anyone at all

At night she changed her mind
She left the world behind

***

This week was been tumultous, and I can't believe it is only the second week. I cannot believe today was only the second day of lectures.

I hate it when i say stupid things like I cannot believe. It really is such a pointless phrase. What's there not to believe? Sometimes I surprise myself with my own stupidity. Things like falling down the stairs in the most embarrassing fashion only serve to drill this further into my mind.

The best advice I have received all week is take your time to know people. I can't believe I never thought about that myself. I hate it when I can't think of things like this myself and have to have people tell me. Yes, so take your time to know people Sneha, because thats the best piece of advice you have had in a long time. Though eat your ass comes a close second.

When things get really annoying I talk to myself in third person, or write to myself and leave the letter and leave it in my notebook to stumble upon later. I did it last year, I did it in Cochin, and I'm doing it now.

She's gone to the movies now, and she's not coming back

Sneha has left the building.
Toss salad and scrambled eggs.

Cochin 2005- Photo Entry

2006-01-08T15:54:00.000+08:00

Here's the long promised Cochin 2005 photo entry.
With captions! Hurrah!

Upon arrival at Chellanam, moving our luggage into our accomodations (Mrs. Jendak John's house)

Students at St.Mary's High, during lesson time. Note that their classrooms only have makeshift walls, and no doors or windows.

View from the front of St.Mary's High. If you look closely, you will see that there are no walls or any other form of boundaries to separate the school compound from the rest of the village.

The church inside the school compound. I didn't get a picture of the lower parts, but about 30 cm from ground level the colour of the walls distinctly changes and is covered by moss. This marks the level the water reached during the Tsunami.

Debbie and Jay fooling around near the clotheslines in the backyard during our free time. Suffice to say, I was not involved. I was probably busy doing more important things, like cleaning the crud from under my toenails. That was meant to be a joke. My toenails have no crud under them.

Group 2 members during what looks like a group discussion. One of the more serious ones, from the looks of it. This picture was taken in the outhouse, the humble abode of groups 1 and 2. On a messier day.

Again- Group 2 members, on the same day, probably within the same hour. This picture speaks for itself. Though if I could attach a voice clip of Liu Hui saying something at this instant, it would have been a hundred times more effective.

Lunch at Chinmaya Vidyalaya. The school building itself was very impressive, and the students very, shall we say, hospitable. No, really. Very nice people, and the food was brilliant.

Children at the kindergarten 5 minutes walk from our house. We helped sponsor a toilet for them.

The Arabian sea, in all its splendour. We lived 5 minutes walk away from this. This water rose over the breakwater and rushed into the village. The village wasn't very badly hit but it did cause a reasonable amount of damage which it could have done without.

Me with Hella, a little friend I made at the kindergarten. Our friendship didn't reach dizzying heights, considering that she seemed more intent on eating shells and ripping through plastic sheets with her powerful little teeth. We did progress significantly though- she even gave me a gift. A tiny fistful of sand.
This is my favourite picture of the whole lot. Thanks Jay!

This little guy has a super sneaky look.

The whole team outside the kindergarten.

The two-cubicle toilet we sponsored

The quote with one wall of the mural- at St.Mary's High, Chellanam. This is the computer lab to which we added a few computers, 4 UPS', as well as a projector.

Mr Tan with some of the boys from the village.

Some quiet time next to the sea

Us during our dance performance at Chinmaya. My first public dance which i thoroughly enjoyed. Brilliant experience.

Some of us conducting an english lesson

Varnishing furniture for the school.

Deuter, Peak, Puma and Adidas, with our omnipresent teacher Ms Goh!

The seven of us- Jagdssc at the beach

A very tickled Leader Goh with her minions, as ready to serve as we have always, and always will be.

The seven of us with Mr Tan, our team leader (twice) and mentor to the Jagdssc. This picture means the most to me of all the pictures we took, because it just sums up so much- what we were there for, what we've been through together (twice), and what we learnt in the process. And the fact that the eight of us are in that picture together just makes it a thousand times more valuable.

Jagdssc with the kids from the orphanage at Fatimah Convent.

The sun setting over the arabian sea.

***

2006-01-08T10:15:00.000+08:00

For the first time in my entire life, while looking at my father's Leshan pictures, i can see the resemblance between me and one of my parents.

My ears are like my father's. And as much as he insists that my nose is like his too, I still maintain that my nose is far more prominent than his, and blame it on some sort of srange amalgamation of large-nose-genes.

Other than that, i still don't see any resemblance to my mother. However, this, coupled with the photos of me at birth, confirm that I was most definitely not adopted.

I have been reading The Secret Diaries of Adrian Mole: The Cappucino years. It's a crackpot book, and makes me laugh to no end. Out Loud. Which is why I decided not to take it on buses. I already have a reputation as a rather strange commuter, with my frequent naps in all sorts of positions. I won't be surprised if someone told me i talk in my sleep on the bus.

This year, shorter bus rides and a new bus route means that i get the chance to start over! Yay!

I can't think of a suitable way to end this entry. So it shall end here, like this.

2006-01-07T13:48:00.000+08:00

Orientation was Awesome with a capital A.

Everything about it- the atmosphere, breaking of stereotypes, making new friends, learning new things about people, feeling good about myself, feeling alright about making mistakes- all of that.

I don't want to go into detail about it. But suffice to say, it was a fantastic way to start the year.

And thanks to all my dunkin mates, every one of whom is special in their own right, and very talented too. :) Thanks for making this so great for me. And for breaking the skeptic in me.

Here's to a fantastic academic year!

2006-01-04T00:12:00.000+08:00

First day of JC.

More fun than i thought it would be.
Met new people.
Remember most of their names.
Smelt like a man for the most part of the day.

Looking forward to tomorrow!

P.s: Going for Oasis! :D

On the Rocks

2006-01-02T00:09:00.000+08:00

Flesh pressed against the rocks, she sat with the waves gently playing with her feet. She knew that she would be found soon, but every moment of seeming serenity lightened her load a little, and every bit helped. She wasn't upset. She was slightly disappointed, but mostly just sad.

It had been a long time since it started, it happened, and it finished. There wasn't much time between the three. She counted the days, and wished she hadn't. The act of counting made her seem very small, through the eyes that she saw herself in. Small was something she was trying very hard not to be. Yet, every thought made her cry and every tear that slid down her satin skin seemed to wear away a little bit of what made her who she was.

Baby's black balloon makes her fly.
I almost fell into the whole in your life.

She knew that it was a silly thought, and hardly worth tears, let alone nostalgia. In front of her, she saw the sun sink into the horizon, its light scattering across the surface of the water, and could almost feel the warmth at her feet.

Almost. A lot of things break at almost. She wished she had stopped at almost. Most people do- almost is what you can get away with. I almost broke the plate but I didn't. I almost said yes, but I thought twice. She did not stop at almost, though. She consciously broke almost into several shards, and took a conscious, liberal, even haughty step across the line that separates almost and actually.

Don't it make you sad to know that life is more than who we are?

She was not some sort of larger than life hero. All she did was take reins for once, and she got the directions wrong. A far cry from heroic. She knew it. But she also knew that the sun was shining too brightly for her to sit beneath a tree. She basked in it, and let the light seep through her skin, into her blood.

She knew he would be somewhere else, dancing, or racing, or doing something else equally silly and meaningless. The water meant nothing to him. Atleast, nothing that it meant to her. Or maybe it did. She knew little about him, or who he was. What she did know, and recall at that instant, was how good he was with his hands.

he first time she felt those hands, she knew more than she thought she did. When his fingers ran through her hair, she felt beautiful. When the crevices between her fingers were filled by the vines that were his, she felt complete. Then, all that mattered to her was him- his fingers, palms, the veins in his wrists, and the rest of him.

She thought she heard someone calling out to her from behind, but she wasn't sure. The water and the sound it made against the rocks was all she wanted to hear. She tried to let things be about what she wanted. It offered her a sense of control.

She pressed her thumb against her tear-soaked cheek and put it in her mouth. She let her tongue roll over it, feeling the smoothness of her uncut nail, and letting the edge cut into the tip of the tongue. Just so much that it hurt, but not bled. Her palms secreted sweat at the first taste of salt. Her tongue now wandered to her shin, and tasted it through the bristles that found their way up, from the previous thursday.

And even though the moment passed me by
I still can't turn away

Not quenched, but too tired to continue, she stood up and smoothened her white linen skirt across her thighs. The rocks had formed a pattern on her thighs, creasing them in intriguing ways. After examining it for a period of time, she pushed down her skirt and wiped her face with her sleeve. After making sure the patterns were hidden, she turned around and headed towards her friends. On her face was a smile, which would remain until the next time she came back to climb her rock and seek solace in the song of the ocean.

***

Credits: Goo Goo Dolls, for lines from their songs- Black Balloon, and Name

2006-01-01T14:42:00.000+08:00

Heralding 2006

2006-01-01T09:52:00.000+08:00

The good old year is with the past;

Oh be the new as kind!

Oh stay, oh stay,

One parting strain, and then away.

- From 'A Song for New Year's Eve' by William Cullen Bryant, 1794-1878

King Kong

2005-12-31T20:39:00.000+08:00

All this while I was complaining about King Kong, and its lousy editing and lousy plot and storyline, and its lack of real themes, and how it turned out to be a major disappointment.

Then I talked to Olives. And she said something that made me wonder why i hadn't thought about it from that perspective. This is exactly what AEP has given me- an appreciation for the process, rather than the result. And a new found respect for the thought from which the process and the product were born.

Because that thought is worth more than anything, and once you sit down at that angle and look at things, no matter how ugly the product might be- there's a beauty that can be found in the virtue of that thought, which makes up for everything else.

Thank you Olives. :)

Goodbye 2005.

2005-12-31T00:30:00.000+08:00

This year has been the best year I have had in a long time.

Quantitatively, I have made more new friends this year than I have in any other year, and kept these friendships. I have patched up many relationships that i've always wanted to, and some which i didn't want to but am glad i did anyway. Even my GPA has seen improvement, and i only added that because i couldn't think of any other quantitative information to add in.

But what are numbers but a cheap man made substitute when there is nothing else to testify with?

And I have things far more important than numbers, that made this year mean so much to me. I have enriched myself in ways I never asked for, and never even expected. So many opportunities have come my way, and I've finally had the courage to grab them and ride along. This year alone, I have improved as a person, both individually and in relation to others, more than my whole secondary school life put together. And if thats a sweeping statement, wait till you hear the next line. I know that next year is going to be even better.

Because by the end of this year, the most important lesson I learnt is that there is nothing more powerful than what is inside of me. I've cut myself repeatedly in the same area with a blunt knife, and bled far too much for me not to realise this. I've been excessively stupid this year, even for me. But as Mariah Carey as this may sound, I don't regret it, because I understand why I had to go through all that. And I forgive myself for it.

And once you reach that thought, things get a lot more bearable. I've gritted my teeth through everything I thought was not bearable. I never broke, not once.

This year I realised how bright the stars really are, and that they don't just shine for me.
I've felt small beside the ocean.
I've cried tears in the rain.
I've held someone's hand and felt energy surge through the little drops of sweat that bound us together.
I've felt the physical aspect of the ties of history.
I've said I love someone and meant it so much that the words didn't make sense anymore.
I've gotten carried away by desire.
I have cried because of things my tongue said and my mind didn't mean.
I have danced.
I have sung a song to someone and meant it.
I have kept a secret.
I have felt the sun's rays on my body, and tasted the salt of my skin afterwards.
I have shouted at someone out of love.
I have broken borders.
I have leapt into fields even though they are clearly not greener than my own.
I have kissed a child.
I have sung a song to the sea.
I have wished upon a shooting star.

I have hopes, wishes, and expectations for 2006. But only the things within my circle of control. I want to tick things off my list. But if all else fails, I want to live the next year with as much intensity as I have lived my last. And still, with no regrets.

Cheers, and a very happy new year to everyone!

2005-12-30T21:36:00.000+08:00

Whoever thought that spiderman could be gay?

2005-12-29T23:30:00.000+08:00

I am back from MalaysiaTrulyAsia.

The highlights of the trip being:

1. Seeing a baby and a waiter at delifrance who looked exactly like dish-dish. Scary, once the thrill of it wears out.
2. Winning at scrabble (woohoo!)
3. Peeling skin off my nose, which i've never gotten to do before.

And I saw a real life komodo dragon! not in an enclosure!
Hah! I'm cooler than you!

In case you haven't already figured it out, I'm very excited to be back home.

2005-12-25T22:09:00.000+08:00

Earlier this week, I was sure that apocalypse was fast reaching us. My 10 year old cousin beat the entire family in our routine daily game of scrabble. Even my father. I was certain that Kalki was fast galloping towards my house, with a glint in his eyes.

However, as i sit here watching her struggle with 1 infantry in each of her 4 countries on the map, while me and my brother plan out Operation-Wipe-Maya-Off-The-Map with great intricacy and planning, it gives me great satisfaction. To know that if nothing else, I am capable of beating a ten year old girl at Risk. Even though we have given her allowances, and 10 free infantry to keep anywhere she wants on the map. With free advicce, to boot.

So I am a bullier of ten year olds. Deal with it. My ego is too big to allow me to lose to a ten year old in a game that involves as much strategy as Risk.

Now that I am more satisifed and pleased with my performance, I can leave for Malaysia a happy 16 year old. That was just a cheap way to link this entry to my next point, which is that I'm leaving for Malaysia tomorrow, and will be back on the 29th.

Cheers, and Merry Christmas to all.

-Sneha

On another

2005-12-24T20:16:00.000+08:00

Call me Saccharide Sneha, but this is obligatory. This song has taught me so much, and coupled with a really good experience, words like these go miles. It just holds magic for me now.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking
Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

Strange and Beautiful- Aqualung

2005-12-23T17:07:00.000+08:00

Thank you Shrew for this song.

A lot of it is what i've always wanted to say, but never gathered the guts to put it in my own words.You see, when you put something in your own words, you have to take ownership for it. And thats a responsibility i'm not ready for yet.

Strange and Beautiful- Aqualung

I've been watching your world from afar,
I've been trying to be where you are,
And I've been secretly falling apart,
I'll see.
To me, you're strange and you're beautiful,
You'd be so perfect with me but you just can't see,
You turn every head but you don't see me.

I'll put a spell on you,
You'll fall asleep and I'll put a spell on you.
And when I wake you,
I'll be the first thing you see,
And you'll realise that you love me.

Yeah...
Yeah...

Sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first,
Sometimes, the first thing you want never comes,
And I know, that waiting is all you can do,
Sometimes...

I'll put a spell on you,
You'll fall asleep,
I'll put a spell on you,
And when I wake you,
I'll be the first thing you see,
And you'll realise that you love me.

I'll put a spell on you,
You'll fall asleep 'cos I'll put a spell on you,
And when I wake you,
I'll be the first thing you see,
And you'll realise that you love me, yeah...

***

On a different note, one of my new year resolutions is to start listening to a wider range of singers and bands. I don't mean I'm going to start liking the genres that I've never liked before, but just start listening to more quality music. Any suggestions?

2005-12-21T22:02:00.000+08:00

Because I hang on to your words with the last strains of my energy.
Lately, I've come close to falling off the cliff

You don't thrill me to poetry anymore.
Now you just thrill me to tears.

2005-12-20T09:12:00.000+08:00

The world is a funny place.
By funny, i mean hahahabom funny.

There are too many comedians out there for the world's own good. Call me a stifled goose with a racoon stuffed up my ass, but people should learn to be serious when the time calls for it. You laugh. I hear you. I will have you know, that I am well on the road to situational awareness, and hopefully in the process, self actualisation. Or maybe thats an end goal.

What I mean to say is, the sound of laughter drowns out all else, and sometimes there are things other than laughter that are worth listening to.

Having said that, I must admit that there are some very good comedians out there who do come up with good stuff that makes me laugh, when the time is right. Like the people who voted Sam a woman pirate ("Don't ye be wolf whistling for I am a woman pirate, and I'll be making mincemeat out of ye!"), and the people who come up with funny things like this.

On the other hand, it doesn't make me laugh when people laugh at my hair, my nose, my sketches, or my shoes. That is humour not appreciated.

Just so you know the difference.

2005-12-18T23:51:00.000+08:00

Yesterday Jared showed me some pictures he took of the railway children in Kolkota.

Anything that I say in attempts to describe my thoughts towards this issue is not going to be new. Its not going to be something you have not already heard. I thought about this, and it bothered me even more- the fact that the "more fortunate" children have heard this so many times over its like a mantra to ~~them~~ us. About how there are children our age in another part of the world that barely have food to eat, or don't have the chance to go to school, or work as bonded labourers to pay off their parents' debts. Then these children look in the papers, and see pictures of starving african children, who have protruding bones and eyes brimming with sadness.

They see these pictures too often.

And this results in development pornography. People keep seeing these pictures. Over and over and over, and it creates an image of these sad race of dark skinned-people waiting silently for help from the rich whites of the world. And you know whats the worst part? It works.

Billions of dollars come pouring in, through aid agencies and NGOs throughout the world. This is what happened in the Ethiopian famine in 1984. The problem lies in the fact that aid is not sustainable- the more money comes in, the more people rely on it. Not to say the people who rely on this aid are at fault. Its not them who take the pictures of themselves and build an image of Africa as a broken continent. The whole entire continent has been reduced to a place with no hope, if not for aid. This image is not the root of the problem, but it is close to it.

I read an article with this line that struck me-

"Oxfam’s Davis said pictures from Africa were often selected using totally different standards to those that would normally apply elsewhere.

For example, he said, picture editors would usually think at least three times before publishing photographs of naked children, unless they were African famine victims.

“But naked famine’s okay, it seems,” Davis said."

And as i read all this, i realised that this is not even a branch of the main problem of poverty that plagues so many people in the world today. Development Pornography is just one cause of this. There are so many, that result in poverty. The web is so complex and so complicated. Anything is, when the human heart and mind are involved. In issues like this, it is very difficult to isolate the the reason and the rational side, from all the emotion that sometimes chokes and blinds us. What holds our reins? Our emotion, or our logic? How do we decide? Is it a balance, then? Where is the line drawn? Its more complicated than I could ever imagine.

But when Jared showed me those pictures- it looked very simple to me. The fact that he went all the way to Kolkota, to take pictures of these children showed me that the world isn't as ugly as I make it out to be sometimes. Because somewhere, in some corner, you find people who are genuine enough to want to make a difference. The fact that these boys were smiling in these pictures, and that there are organisations that are making an effort to make this smile real, and not just for the pictures that were taken, calms me a little. Because atleast there are people who have their hearts in the right place. And, as stupid as it may sound, that's the absolute essential fundamental thing you need to go anywhere.

2005-12-15T22:41:00.000+08:00

Nobody uses the word sad anymore these days.

There's lonely, upset, and there's depressed.
But none of those really fit.

When the air is sort of still, and the stars seem brighter than usual, and there's a sort of heavy feeling in your heart- its not quite lonely or upsetting or even depressing. Its sad.

For Your Daily Dosage of Tambram Humour

2005-12-15T10:24:00.000+08:00

" Ambi Mama is leading Brahmin relative" - Survey

A survey has revealed that ‘Ambi Mama' is the leading relative among Tamil Brahmin families worldwide, with six in ten families having one of their own (a 60% repsesentation. Apparently, Ambi Mama held off stiff competition from Mani Mama (with 55% representation) and Baby Chitti (39%) for a well-deserved win.

“It's a great day for all Ambi Mamas. All the years of hard work – drinking coffee, criticizing the Indian team selection and complaining about blood-pressure – have finally paid off. Yay!”, said Ambi Mama, a spokesman for the Ambi Mamas Association of Dear Old Rascals (AMBASSADOR), a division of the Hardcore Brahmin Organisation (HBO). [Editor's note – The previous sentence has been roundly condemned by the Society for Prevention of Abbreviations that are Needless, Dumb and Execrable (SPANDEX)]

___

Some of the stalwarts of the Ambi Mama team pose for a photographer, after blading him with outdated advice on the best cameras, film, and lighting.

___

Mani Mamas all over the world watched in anguish as the final results were announced, plunging them into gloom. “It's no fun being a Mani Mama anymore”, said Mani Mama. “ Maybe if I change my name to ‘Ramesh Anna', I will have a brighter future”, he pondered pointlessly.
The survey also said that a respectable number of families (or a number of respectable families, as the case may be), have a Vaidhi Thatha, Bangalore Anna, and at least one random guy named ‘Chandroo' who is at all functions, but no-one can really place (and may not be related at all).

Predictably, bringing up the rear were non-entities like Driscoll Periappa, Jessica Alba Anni and Darth Vader Mama, which had zero representation. “Brahmins are way too conservative, dude!”, complained Cleveland Shankar, one of the more modern Iyer boys (or boyz, if you prefer. We offer multiple-choice reading. You're welcome.). “When are they going to drop old duds like Venkatakrishnan, Suresh and Balaji, and start using hipper names like Jason, Beyonce and The Human Torch?”, he asked, to wide applause from a group of people watching cricket on a nearby television.
Not all are happy with progress, however. “These youngsters are ruining everything by naming their children Archish, Dhruv and Plaha.”, thundered Badri Athimber. “ Can you imagine how it will sound? Dhruv Mama, Anamika Athai, Archish Chittappa – Ugh! Phooey! That is so not cool!!”, he growled, using expressions of disgust picked up from his states-based co-brother.

When asked for their response, several Brahmins living in Adyar merely arched their eyebrows, pursed their lips, and continued waiting for the December music season.

Source: http://www.bosey.co.in/2005/05/ambi-mama-is-leading-brahmin-relative.html

Movie reviews

2005-12-14T11:25:00.000+08:00

Since its the holidays now, and i haven't got much else to do, i have been renting a lot of movies to watch.

One Hour Photo

Macabre at its best. Or should i say, worst.
You know what i mean.

It started off with just the concept being scary. But since the concept is the basis for the rest of the movie, the darkness kind of permeates into every single detail- to such an extent that you even find the happiest moments of the movie sad and depressing. After seeing things from the side of film production, you tend to look out for these elements while watching the movie more than you did before- things like the lighting, the sound, the music quality. For me, these are the things that really affect your experience as a movie-watcher. The plot and concept are undeniably the primary elements for a film. But without the technical aspects, the film is just a story that has been visualised.

These technical aspects were perfected in One Hour Photo. I don't want to go into detail here because i think it would be bloody boring.

So here's more on the concept. It works brilliantly for the movie- and its absolutely realistic. It could happen anywhere. Once that thought hits you, it gets doubly frightening. "An employee of a one-hour photo lab becomes obsessed with a young suburban family." is as much as i can give away. So there's Sy the photo guy who was played by Robin Williams. I can imagine no other actor who would have done the role better than Robin Williams. He became Sy, and he was able to portray all the nuances that exist in a character like Sy- with so much ease. Not to say that Sy is an easy kind of guy to understand when you watch the movie, or that the movie is even easy to watch. Its not. Its dark, chilling, and portrays human relationships and the mind at its scariest. Sy puts you in a dilemma, really. And that is the EXACT thing that makes this movie so brilliant.

The plot wasn't rich or extravagant. It wasn't like Good Will Hunting, with multiple characters contributing to a complicated plot, high emotional quota, or big dialogue that moves you. This movie was pretty simple- a simple plot, with simple lines. Its only the nature of Sy's character that makes it so hard to watch. Its what you don't see, don't hear, and don't know, that makes it a good film.

I don't want to delve into details about Sy's character, or about the ending. You should watch the movie yourselves. It has some profanities, some sexual content, and partial nudity. So be warned. Still, its a very very well taken and well written film, and is definitely worth watching.

***

I also watched Ghajini yesterday. Since everyone's already seen it, i don't feel like reviewing it. I enjoyed watching the earlier parts of the film, until the climax. After that i felt that things just got long and boring and draggy. Nainthara is a really bad actress, and her role was too stereotypical, and too loud and noisy for my liking. The movie had too much masala in it- which is predictable, since it is a mainstream commercial film. Surya, although he was able to do all these fancy head movements and eye movements, and mastered the walk, was quite predictable. Partially because his character was such. Still, i thought he could have done better.

Having said that, he was sizzling and i loved him during all the dance numbers. And he is the unparalleled casanova of tamil cinema. He is good with lovin' the ladies, babeh. And if i continue any further with this much estrogen in my bloodstream, i will say some things that i will most definitely regret. So, at this point, i will stop and go have a shower.

2005-12-12T12:07:00.000+08:00

An excerpt from The Prophet.

***

And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship."

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

***

This book gives me strength.

5 weird facts.

2005-12-11T11:29:00.000+08:00

van tagged me.
so here i go:

5 weird facts about me:

1. when i was a kid, i used to think that anna nagar was named after my brother.

2. in primary 1, 2 and 3, i was made the monitress in january. but every year, without fail, i was impeached after 2 weeks because i was too bossy.

3. i own 2 hamsters and am mortally afraid of both of them. they're downright vicious, and bite like monsters.

4. i really want an oriental whip snake.

5. ive been faithfully keeping a diary since i was 9.

i have to tag 5 people to do this.
but i don't want to be a pain.
and i know vodka will do this anyway.

cheers.

for wynne

2005-12-10T23:37:00.000+08:00

Wynne, on what would happen if the mosquit-croc cross breeded with something that is purple and has wings (you know.):

they can fly as high as an aeroplane! so if they cross breed with elephants theoretically aeroplanes would be obsolete by natural selection. it's an elepaddycrocquito!

haha wynne, you crack me up. absolutley completely.
and thanks man. for everything. :)) (with 2 brackets, just for you.)

-sneha

p.s: remember: if it loves you, it will come back.

why, hello!

2005-12-09T22:42:00.000+08:00

2005-12-09T20:58:00.000+08:00

There were some concepts that i found very difficult to grasp as a child.

For example, that the sun is a star.
The sun is yellow, the stars are white. The sun is huge, and the stars are so tiny. How can the sun be a star, I never quite understood.

That man is an animal.
I just didn't get it. It wasn't a matter of my refusing to accept that i had inferior intellectual capabilities- I was quite resigned to that by the time. I just couldn't get how man (who is, well, human) could be an animal.

That man evolved from apes.
wha..? how? I didn't even understand this enough to ask questions. But since everyone said it was right, i just accepted it and moved on.

Today, i realise how little i question the things around me. because i am so used to not understanding things, but knowing that they are (somehow) the way they are, that i just accept them. and that's that. In cochin, gayle kept asking questions that i didn't know the answers to, and it really bothered me that i could take so many things for granted. like- how does hair grow? Yesterday, my dad and i were talking about fluid dynamics, and he told me how there are some things about fluid dynamics that nobody can figure, despite knowing so much about water and its properties.

It irks me that we know so little about the world we live in. and yet we have this conception that we own the world. there are so many things about this world that i don't understand, and possibly never will, no matter how hard i try.

One night in Cochin, just as i was going to bed (it was already some 15 minutes past lights out and everyone except the mentors were asleep), Debbie came into the outhouse and demanded that i come out and see something. I was a little peeved, because I was sleepy and it was late, and Debbie had this annoying grin on her face. But i went out anyway. She took me to the middle of the courtyard, and told me to look up.

When i looked up, i saw the stars like i have never seen them before. They looked like they were right above our house, and were there just for us. They seemed so close that If i just jumped up a little, i could grab them. But when i thought about what they really were- great masses of burning fire millions of light years away- i was awestruck.

Because, what are we, in comparison to these great big stars? Just tiny human beings, is what! We think we've got so much power, and so much intelligence, but if these balls of fire decided to come crashing down on us right now, we'd never be able to do anything. In the bigger scheme of things, my life its whole entire bubble seemed so small. I hold so little clout in this universe, and i could never change the way the world works.

So what was i doing? Spending 200 smackers, going to another country, trying to make the world a better place? Who the bloody hell did i think i was? Some sort of higher human being, compared to others? Did I think I was better? Who was i to say what better was? I felt like a small, arrogant, pompous fool that night, under those stars. Those very stars taught me humility, a lesson my parents have been trying to teach me for 16 years.

And while staring at that sky, I saw my first shooting star. I made a wish upon that star, and went back to bed, feeling, for the first time- small but happy.

Beersheba

2005-12-07T20:23:00.000+08:00

Because i really can't bring myself to blog these days, you'll have to content yourselves with a random thought that i had while rolling around in bed last night trying to fall asleep:

If i were Israeli, and i started a pub, i would call it Beersheba.
For the record, Israeli beer does exist.

Ha!

p.s: Marvin Spectrum is the funnest thing since sliced bread!

survey

2005-12-04T14:57:00.000+08:00

because i love doing these.

***

1. Time of starting This?
1458

2. Were you named after anyone?
no. not after a person. although, for some bizarre reason, people seem to think im named after indira gandhi. though no part of my name coincides with hers.

3. Do you wish on stars?
all the time. i saw my first shooting star a week ago. and wished upon it.

4. When did you last cry?
i last teared sometime last week. i dont remember when i last cried. i think, during FAM.

5. What is your favourite meat?
chicken, baby. ha!

6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf?
none of them embarrass me. why would i be embarrassed?

7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?
yes i would. most definitely. after thinking and rethinking many times over.

8. Are you a daredevil?
i try to be.

9. How do you release anger?
i write a poem, or more recently- vent to jay before going to bed.

10.Where is your second home?
where the heart tries to be but doesnt really fit in.

11. Do you trust others easily?
more or less, yes.

12. What was your favourite toy as a child?
a pink mouse called yeli raghavan.

13. What class in school do you think is totally useless?
totally and completely useless? probably chemistry. but thats just for me.

14. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
i dont even know if i do. if i do, its not very consciously.

15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
nevarr!

16. What do you look for in a guy/girl?
a mind that works and a heart that beats.

17. Would you bungee jump?
i just might. :)

18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
nope i dont.

19. What's your favourite ice cream flavour?
vanilla. no frills.

20. what is your favourite colour?
red. pure crimson.

21. What is your least favourite thing?
rats.

23. What do you miss most right now?
knowing that wynne and jay might pop out of any corner and lie down on my lap, causing an avalanche of mattresses.

24. What are you listening to right now?
cast no shadow- oasis.

25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?
i hate this question.

26. What is the weather like right now?
bright, sunny, blue skies.

27. Last person you talked to on the phone?
luvy.

28. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
the things they say.

29. Do you like the person who sent you this?
i hardly know her. i dont think ive ever spoken to her.

30. How are you today?
worse than yesterday. better than tomorrow.

31. Favourite drink?
water.

32. Favourite alcoholic drink?
i have never had a drop of alcohol all my life, other than the over-fermented ginger ale i made. and i didn't particularly like that.

33. Natural hair colour?
black

34. Eye colour?
brown.

35. Wear contacts?
no.

36. Siblings?
1 brother.

37. Favourite month?
june, and december.

38. Favourite food?
indian. all the way, paapaa!

39. Last movie you watched?
hp and the goblet of fire.

40. Favourite day of the year?
i dont know.

41. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out?
no.

42. Scary movies or happy endings?
scary movies. hands down.

43. Summer or winter?
summer, i think. i don't like being frozen to the bones.

44. Hugs or kisses?
neither, preferably. i'm not big on intimacy.
says the girl who used to think that hugging was a normal form of greeting.

45. Do you want your friends to write back?
no, not particularly.

46. Who is most likely to respond?
?

47. Who is least likely to respond?
?

48. What book/magazine are you reading?
The Elephant Vanishes- Haruki Murakami.
(very strange that i should find this immediately after coming back from cochin, after seeing tons of jadugar anand posters- "Close your eyes, the elephant disappears!"

49. What's on your mouse pad?
i dont have a mouse pad.

50. What did you watch on TV last night?
america's sweethearts.

51 Favourite Smell?
the smell of rain.

52. do you regret ever breaking up with someone?
no.

53. Time of finishing?
1515

***

2005-12-03T13:50:00.000+08:00

Long ago, when I came till your knee
You'd lift me in your arms,
and in your embrace, and my innocence,
I thought nothing would change.

I could believe that nothing has.

Aside from the fact that you don't exist as a human being anymore.
And that i am beginning to forget what your touch felt like in our embrace.
I only seem to remember what it felt like as it was ending, when you held me in pain.

But I know i would be lying to myself.
You know things have changed, when all you can remember is the pain. Especially when its not your own.

Its times like these where I want to relive all emotion, just so that i cut myself deep enough to remember not to forget.