THINKING, TALKING, TYPING TRASH

Abrity di gives a shocker yesterday...Jhilik drops a bomb today...and all my excitement is marred... initially I had decided to call this one 'the most lucrative year" and type in all those happy incidents that made the past one year so precious...but I've finally ended up writing a nameless blog...not exactly nameless though...this phrase 'placeholder for text' has become very significant in the last one year at work...but that's not reason enough for naming it thus...incidents mentioned above have just spoilt all that flurry... this piece was supposed to be everything bout my completing a year at work...(which completely changed everything for me when it happened last year...I remember walking into that huge building, completely sure I wouldn't make it...but I finally did...) it was supposed to be about that long awaited result which finally did come out yesterday...(finally making me a Mass Comm post graduate)...I even thought I'd ping Abrity ...

I crossed a sad Dunlop yesterday on my way back from work. There was no one who’d hold my hand and help me dodge the jam-packed crossing. I have this strange phobia of crossing busy roads – I get confused and end up standing at on side of the road for really long. But every single day last week, Shukla di held me by my hand and crossed the busy road with me (she’s completely spoilt me, trust that). However, yesterday I crossed Dunlop all alone...a bit too late, a bit too confused. And the irony is, I did not want all this to happen YESTERDAY. My shift changes from Monday...so this Friday was apparently the last day (well almost, exaggeratedly speaking) of me being a 6 th floor-ite. So the day had been BAD, what with me staying back after work and missing the 6 PM bus. And I am surprised at myself, at how morose I felt on my way back home cuz I won’t be seeing these faces for quite some time now. There was this uneasy pain in the chest, I cannot locate exactly where. I ...

Yes, love makes you do strange things and poems is one of them. I mean I've always been very disgusted with the idea of writing poem. Thought of it as something utterly girly and poet-ish. But well, here I am. Though what I have done, I would not like to call it a poem. They are just random thoughts I've penned down. Strangely, every thought of you that comes to my mind and then down on my paper, takes shape into something so overwhelming. Somehow, only you will ever understand the true meaning of this little piece I've written. But you might never get to read it. This one's for you, with a lot of love. Don't take the scathing words so seriously :) I want to play the guitar just the way you like. I wish to sing you Dylan like I promised. I want to puff the cigar you so hate, I wanna be on drugs and everything you despise. I'll be a rebel cuz you've taken the love away. But you said you like rebel, didn't you? 

Last year I had started typing a piece but did not eventually post it. It was saved in my drafts all these days. I just deleted it. It was called MY EXTREMELY SUAVE GOOD LOOKING FRIEND FROM PARK STREET. The blog was supposed to be a dig at this really good friend I started to like. Well love would be a more appropriate word I guess and the feeling can be pretty confusing when you are feeling it for the very first time. And I had been no exception. I did silly things in "love"...things I should not have done...things I was not supposed to do...things I never expected I would ever do. But of course, life is not a pretty Bollywood movie. My writing this blog just testifies how pathetically failed in love I am. My friend and I, we do not talk much now...we haven't talked for a while now. It would sound strange, but the not talking part has actually helped me get over him and get back to myself. Looking back, I feel I had totally changed myself for him (most of the changes ...