Looking across the ocean

I saw her face

She ate all the crustaceans

That lost to her pace

    I possess this inane need to begin my every 'sensible' post with a sensuous treat to my readers like this poem (if you are generous enough to accept it is one..:P ) . Does it relate to the topic in hand (to be precise my mind) or the rest of the post?? No. :-)

Riveting our thoughts towards the la-la law....
     I don't know how common this specific quirk of mine is, but I am pretty sure that it is quite prevalent that it could be given the status of a law. The law shall be explained with very descriptive and animated examples.
    There are a zillion types of people whom we come across everyday, but everybody will fall under one of these categories
1. Friend - whose occasional digs at your shortcomings and whose offensive remarks are gracefully forgiven and forgotten
2. Friend's friend - depending on the kind of people involved, the following scenarios could occur
    a. either you keep trying to entertain this fellow while he continues to manage a contrived smile. This persists until he is driven to the point of asking you to shut your mouth
    b. you are at the receiving end
    c. Both you and the friend's friend act all shy and taciturn and the scene ends on a pleasant note for everybody
   d. Both you and the friend's friend get hyper excited about meeting each other and making new friends leaving the mutual friend sad and lonely.
3. The food people - these are the people whom you respect the most and yearn to meet almost everyday. They are neither your close friends nor mere acquaintances. This could range from McD attenders to the office pantry's caretakers.
4. Random people - whose existence adds no gravity to your mundane life. But you do secretly make a mental note about some hotties and hunkies of this lot of people.
5. The everyday people - these people like the food people are those who contribute to our diurnal life neither as friends nor as mere acquaintances. These people range from the 333W's (a certain bus) conductor to the malayalee shop owner.
6. The la-la people
The la - la people
     Well, these are the people whom you chance to see everyday or sometimes every hour. You see them so often that sometimes your pair of eyes transfix on theirs momentarily until both of you realize your folly. These could be the people you see everyday in a bus stop or your office pantry or the rest room (because you have crazily synchronous excretion cycle) or the mall near your house or the list is endless. Both of you wait for the other to make the first move which is usually just a simple smile but that never happens. Slowly you start to despise each other and wonder in isolation why your fate is so screwed up that you have to see them so often.

First time you see each other

Wait for the other fellow to smile

You think 'O! that *#$& again '

    On a balmy day, you see yourself perched in a place surrounded by strangers. You feel like every bit of fun is drawn out of your body. It is then, that you spot our la-la fellow amidst a sea of strangers, looking equally lost. The biggest of smiles spreads across your face and a warm nice feeling fills up your chest. The la-la fellow's face mirrors your reaction and both of you end up waving like overtly friendly puppies. You walk towards each other while the euphonious 'lalla la la lal la' plays in your ears. It is from this sound which your psyche conjures, that this category of people derive their name. You get acquainted and become XY friends where XY denotes the place or the thing where or upon which your frequent encounters happen. Eg: Pantry friends, office shuttle friends, road crossing friends, mud pot breaking friends or sometimes even we steal mangoes from the same tree friends.

Lost in a crowd

You spot each other

Happy happy!!!

of a 22 year old. :-(
        I am 22 and I don't feel good about it. The thought that I stand here at this juncture of my life , having acheived nothing, makes me want to cogitate over what I have been doing with this carnal self of mine for 22 long years. 22!! The very sound of the number is disgusting. I don't know why, 21 was a sexy age. It kind of made me feel proud to trumpet out I was 21 to people who questioned me about my age. '21' in a husky tone was what my mental image portrayed . But 22 (yuck), it creates visceral sensation which I do not like in the least bit...Blech!!!!!!!!!!
       Time is a cruel tyrant and a bad teacher. He burdens people with more than what they can take, and seldom wait for them to understand the gravity of things. If only I could reel back in time and ensconce in the vagrant certainities of my 2 year old self!!!! Sigh!!!
The things that I miss about the days of everything-is-perfect childhood:

Baby Doll Me.:-) .

1. I am no longer the cute, chubby, green eyed, daring doll like daughter of a professor, whose visits to the college campus were celebrated with maximum cuddling and cajoling and 'Awwwwww.. How cute!'s. I am instead the akka of my mom's students.
2. The female actors are younger than me for crying out loud (What the hell man??? :-(  no morelike :'( )
3. I miss living life just for the sheer joy of living it rather than for the sake of keeping my Facebook account hip and happening.
4. Playing hide and seek was much more fun than now me having to deal with people playing with my feelings.
5. Responsibility seems to be an evergrowing gift forcefully endowed upon me.
6. You must have guessed by now, I have become a huge complaint box.
7. The knowledge that a word, sentence or even gestures could convey a lot more than what it was intended to, has only made me ignorant of the vacous pleasure of infanthood.
      Whoever is working on time machine, please , I assure you that I will be you best friend forever. Please help me go a good 18 years back and if you happen to invent a freeze button, please use it. To all 21 year olds, don't carry off a 'world belongs to me' attitude. You are soon going to get stuck in this bull shit mire of responsibilities and depression a.k.a the disgusting sounding 22. (Sigh!)

                 Is there a better sitcom than F.R.I.E.N.D.S??? I mean.. the minute you hear joey go "How you doing??" or Monica screaming an ultrasonic "I know" or Ross' morose "H.e.l.l.l.o.o....", the depression, sadness and fatigue, that you sheltered for long, is magically thrown off your carnal self. A comical Chandler, jolly Joey, fantabulous Phoebe, mommy Monica, ridiculous Rachel and a pedantic Ross. The previous sentence did no justice to their awesomeness. The perfect ensemble of the perfect'est' people.
              Some of my all time favourite moments from those rapturous episodes... (in no particular order)

Rachel: All right, how about I go over there and I will walk into Chandler's bedroom and I will see that thing that I think that I know is actually the thing that I think that I know!

Joey: No, we didn’t even pay our cable bill—maybe this is how they punish us.
Chandler: Maybe we shouldn’t pay our phone bill—free phone sex.
Joey: Maybe we shouldn’t pay our gas bill? (Stops and thinks about what he just said.)

Rachel: Oh God. What about you, Joe? What would you give up, sex or food?
Joey: Uhm... oh... I don't know, it's too hard.
Rachel: No, you gotta pick one!
Joey: Oh... food. No, sex. Food! Sex! Food! Se-I don't know! Good God, I don't know, I want girls on bread!

Chandler: You’re right, I have no excuses! I was totally over the line.
Joey: Over the line?! You-you’re-you’re so far past the line, that you-you can’t even see the line! The line is a dot to you!

Joey: I know. And she’s so sweet. I just wanna feed her grapes and brush her hair.
Chandler: You are aware that she’s not a monkey, right?

Phoebe: Yeah! And look, (Grabs the pants) see how they expand as the baby grows? (There’s a stretchy part in front.) And then after the baby’s born, they’re great for shoplifting melons.

Phoebe: Umm, I…I just think you don’t expect someone so hot to be so sweet.
The Interviewer: Oh! I like that. What’s your name?
Phoebe: Umm, Phoebe Buffay.
The Interviewer: How do you spell that? So we can get it right.
Phoebe: Oh okay, it’s P as in Phoebe, H as in hoebe, O as in oebe, E as in ebe, B as in bee-bee and E as in (In an Australian accent) ‘Ello there mate!

My indolence is getting the better of me... Can't exercise my cerebral structure further..Well these are just a random few that my brain could fetch..  Thanks a lot F.R.I.E.N.D.S for always being there for me like you promised everytime the show began... 




 

     Sun spread his merciless beams over the turbulent waves that glimmered like a zillion diamonds against the perfectly serene blue landscape. "Naah!! But that is nothing compared to the glow in her eyes" he mused. The brawny silicon was wet and moist and stretchehed its mighty empire to what seemed like the whole of the universe. "But her love would measure up to atleast a hundred times this endless stretch" calculated his mind.

She stared right through his vacant eyes, trying to pilot the whole magnitude of happiness that his presence brought, into the damp air that clung around them. The wind mellowed down a little and caressed them by his humid breath. She felt the wind playing playing chords with her hair, but that didn't  matter to her. He smiled at her. His usual discerning smile. The same smile that made her wonder if the whole cause of her existence was to put him where he was, the place where he stood, magnificient as always and smiling his wry discerning smile. The wind carried a grain or two of sand off his body and that troubled her. Troubled her like how a true mother can only be troubled. How a  mother suffers when her innocent infant cries out of pain. The wind was ripping him apart. But there he stood smiling his wry smile like nothing ever happened. "He is amazing. He can stand the winds. Even if he can't I am going to be there by his side always" she swore to herself.

He saw her gazing at the blue expanse. The sky that never begins nor ends but promises endless shelter from the torrid tyrant of a sun. "Nature's way of proving a mother's existence" he concluded. "Her fathomless affection overrides the sky's sincere sacrifice too argued his mind. He laughed at the trivial arguement that his blatant mond came up with. "May be that is why I permanently have this discerning smile on my face" he deduced.

The guard bellowed his ominous warnings in a jibberish tongue that she seemed to understand. Something about the warning disturbed her otherwise placid eyes. "I am his creator, I cannot let him die", she panicked. She ran her hands over his tawny, sculpted body. Her touch reinstilled in him the same gentle feeling that seeped through him during the moments of his creation. But the fear in her eyes troubled him. His hands wailed, yearning to wipe away those tiny drops that her eyes just conjured. Innocence is a horrible crime he realised.

She drifted away from him , clutching the hands of another man. His princess, his mother, his creator, his world was walking away from him for a reason his mind was yet to educate him with. "Papa, you can't take me away from him. I want to be with him" she rambled in the same jibberish tongue that he couldn't make sense of. Her lips trembled while she thought of the destiny that enveloped him. She had to be there, to protect him.


He watched the last bit of her shadow disappear down the leafy lane. The ocean tremored and he thought it was mourning over his loss. The calm waters was crying out at their vociferous best. The clamorous roar did very little justice if it's intention was to distract him, to lure him into thinking about other billion brilliant better things. "It's ok mother nature, you tried your best" he consoled. Unluckily mother wasn't consoled. He felt the still morose water licking his neck, like a dog trying to lick his master's worries off. Only this wasn't as appropirate. The ocean as he knew was an untamed monster and not a faithful dog. At once past few moments made perfect sense to him.He blessed the man who had taken her. He coudln't have survived the guilt if the man hadn't taken her away from him. He waited patiently in the shore where a few minutes back he spent the most wonderful moments of his life with that one girl. The hungry waters devoured him like an angry god just like how they feasted on million other lives. Only that it hurt him a billion times more as his body totally disintegrated into the tiny grains of sand that he was actually made of. Every grain of sand of his body though about her even in those final few nano seconds that the sea took to totally erase his existence off the beach sands.


She woke up the next day and rubbed her tiny little palms and looked into the mirror and saw her 3 year old self looking back at her with expectation and anxiety as to what the day held in store for her. Her mental alarm reminded her of yesterday's sandman. "Papa, we need to go to the beach to get sandman", she dictated. "Our beahces have been hit by the Tsunmai", explained her dad.

Stuck with the days that beam so bright
And the somber nights without light

Where do you wanna go?? I don't know...
What do you wanna see?? a flake of snow...

           Bangalore has been treating me with utmost care that my mental dictionary has revamped it's definition of food as that one grain that tastes the best only when eaten from your own plate at home under mom's watchful loving eyes and a hand that is ever ready to fetch water and tap you on the head incase you choke. Bangalore stands to prove to the world that it paid the weeniest of attention when somebody said  "Don't judge a book by it's cover" . And the cove here is usually so meager that yes, it doesn't really matter when you judge it with or without the cover...;-) ;-). (Most books are awesome...;-) ). Bangalore marched right into my neural systems and messed up my taste to food association table. Wake me up in the middle of the night and quiz me if there are sweets or desserts that I hate.. I  would go thus.."badusha, sambhar, mysore pa,.... ....". Bangalore strictly adheres to "early to bed and late to rise" policy and if you are that unfortunate nocturnal Bangalore dweller, then to hell with you says Bangalore to you.  Bangalore boasts a huge fleet of autos that always makes its appearance to you in the ost appropirate of situations and the rate of loss of money from your purse is proportional to that rate of such appearances.And somehow it really doesn;t matter where you want to go , it actually matters where the auto baiya wants to go. Bangalore is the one place in India where you can proudly claim to be a resident of Whitefields, Brookefileds, Embassy Golf  Links, Crystal Down, Silicon Valley, Silver Oaks. Bangalore wraps up the Indian Culture over fundamental biology and strives(tries) to mask the ostentive drip in the Indian mindset that it craves to be proud about . The minute you walk into a clinic with an ailing 23 year old complaining of a nasal infection the doctor trumpets his diagnosis " You are not married, so , obviously you are not pregnant"... (dude!!! come on!!!).....

P.S. On a totally different note, the title of this post has nothing to do with the rest of the post. I absolutely have no clue about the title myself. :P

    Time and tide waits for none.. The trendy time telling machine that you see in the shop obeys the same pattern. And that's why you need to be quick at seizing the opportunity to make it yours. And any homo sapien in the best of his senses would do that and I am no exception to the reality that this rule is.
    My sanity fails to interpret that one question that my fellow mates have been piloting towards me the past few weeks... "Aishu??? New watch?? Oh! My God!!!!!!!". Yes I got a Denim strapped (yeah denim strap...cool huh?? :-) ) watch.. So?? Big deal....
    Come on folks.. Aishu is not Rama.. It's not like my watch is my Seetha and that I have vowed my life against not seeing another watch my entire life.. No.. No .. No.. if anything.. i am that anti-Rama matter that should have existed during Rama's 'one-life-one-watch" era... I own every watch that my optical sensors took interest in and my heart yearned for.. But of course there is this huge difference between owning something and using something that you own... I fall short..way short of fulfilling the latter half of the statement though... But to just let you know.. I own 17 watches.. Yeah you heard it rite.. 17 .... Just that your first something is so stuck to every artery of your silly emotional human heart that moving on with a newer one becomes an arduous and heart wrenching venture... Why risk the pain and effort??? My 15.5 years old "Timex" (for the sake of my brand crazy friend :-) ) watchie is pretty diligent and dedicated and hasn't failed me too often... All I need is to know the hour of the day right?? Then why flash my trendy new watch when I have my ever faithful watchie??? Watchie remains my watch forever..But I am still hospitable to the other watches that are dying to be a part of Aishu's precious watch collection... So to every one of you out there... Next time I buy a watch, 'watch' what you say....;) ;)
P.S : Brett Lee is(or was) the brand ambassador for Timex. One more reason why 'watchie' gets to stay..;-)

arid, bomb, bromidic, bummer, characterless, cloying, colorless, commonplace, dead, drab, drag, drudging, dull, flat, ho hum, humdrum, insipid, interminable, irksome, lifeless, monotonous, moth-eaten, mundane, nothing, nowhere, platitudinous, plebeian, prosaic, repetitious, routine, spiritless, stale, stereotyped, stodgy, stuffy, stupid, tame, tedious, threadbare, tiresome, tiring, trite, unexciting, uninteresting, unvaried, vapid, wearisome, well-worn, zero...

Boredom boring right throgh my asinine intelligence.... :-(