Thursday, December 21

rhymes with orange


that too
Anyone who told you to be yourself couldn't have given you worse advice..

i flicked this from sup's blog. thanks madusa whoever you are.

Wednesday, December 6

ok. this is going to be a soppy post. soppy i have to warn/call it because i have been co-opted by this all pervasive reverence of restraint.
Hmm. Now that could be a separate post too. So should I talk about being co-opted by the all pervasive reverence of restraint which seems to be a characteristic of people who want to blaze their own trails. How strange.innit? Shouldnt it be the other way? Explicit honest fearless expression to true feeling must be laughed at.(no wonder the world elevates Hemmingway and gets rid of confessional poetry) However it may be accepted if self destructively manifested (Lots good humor +mystery of skeleton in cupboard). Otherwise if manifested when drunk. perhaps accepted as kitsch of behavior.
So we put these people under the fashionably dark pink and golden sequins once in a while. Part of the reason why I think the more number of skeletons you put and the more graphic the surgeon generals warning reads on cigarette packets, sales will increase. Makes the image of ciggies more self destructive and therefore the people smoking it are revered in a clandestine way.

My thesis is that these people who wrote love poetry of abandonment, loss and its variations thereof, or of feeling lost in this wide world or inspirational idealistic poetry such as sorrow of prostitute etc. usually in obvious rhyme get their sudden jolt of embarrassment in this Restraint conspiracy and suddenly decide to become closeted. (iam not implying anything)
Now one will revel in muted tones and subtle interplay of ash and steel grey, rainbows only forming in oil spills. Party in blue. Etc. (no issues with that. I love blue too. And most people love blue. But that’s another post. Not related to this.) Now this person will admire self for becoming the true bohemian, the trail blazer that has so much character! Very Classy. Self controlled, logical, subtle, magnanimous of course while not attending to the basic anxieties. Within this matrix, crying is a self indulgence, most of all crying in front of someone else. So these people become the next gen. of co-opters. The fresh bunch will write more “terrible” poetry. Terrible only because they rhyme too easy and show themselves too easy. Its honest and the way something was felt. No interplay of grey and ash. It’s all blood and bile. No need for objective correlatives, broken lines, or a subtle clinching irony at the end. Simple things, of loving, losing, feeling. No need to describe the chipping paint and a dream of crabs while you leave the rhythm to heave and suggest.
Damn, this disclaimer’s too long. Coming to my soppy post.
I love looping songs. No, not coldplay.
Currently I am looping ‘te recuerdo amanda’. Because I don’t know another way of loving so I looplooplooplooplooploplooplooplooploop.
This song will have the fate of April come she will.
Much of my learning about self has come from looping songs.Everytime I loop a song, i lose myself in it and suddenly things appear as I had never seen them appear. Or. The same thing keeps appearing. Or the mood kept constant, the variables change.(that’s technically wrong. Cause variables don’t vary and constants aren’t constant.
I wanted to write soppy things related to my song looping and about some people but I couldn’t talk myself into writing it out. I suppose I am going to be self congratulatory about the teenyweeny bit of self restraint I have. Sigh.
Anyway, I used to listen to “I want to spend my lifetime loving you” OST mask of Zorro on tape. I also listened to Winds of change the Russian version on loop.
Or more recently April come she will. Also, OST Schindler’s List. Breakfast at tiffany’s in junior college.
Seal/A Kiss from a Rose. Don McLean- Is that the sun. you belong to me (shrek ost)
Amono dine tare bola jae. Candela. Kandisa. rosemary and thyme ! and o sanam.on tape.

Wednesday, November 29

Damn! i forgot to write about Anthony Kaun Hai

Damn! i forgot to write about Anthony Kaun Hai

the camera!
the characterisation!
the Plot!! o my sweet clementine! i want to marry a witch!

Saturday, November 25

many things ---

1. i have a new job. rather, i have a job now. people!!

2. i am so FUKCIN annoyed with self. i dint get back to the guy who sold me my digi all these days. it wasnt some kachra stuck somewhere on lens but it was the ccd. he says warranty to gaya. you mustve done something. one more reason to give up photography.

3. then, i took my film camera back to where i bought it from, they say they cant fix it. anymore. so i cant even use my film cam anymore then.more reason to give up photography.

4. client is moron. wants pedestrian copy that'll kill his 5 years of brilliant branding. also he calls and says just before the ad has to go to print, heyy! send me the 3rd image with the 2nd text. i wantto put the guy first. wha!! hello.we dont randomly put images and text together! but of course, we send it. neice is getting married in feb and i so want to go so badly but maybe i wont get leave. besides i just went and came back thrice this year already.

6. can i ban some ip address from reading my blog?

7. has been removed by blogowner

8. do you know i wanted to be a computer programmer? but, ASCII to ASCII, DOS to DOS

9. i still think i'd have made a wonderful architect.

10. i dont think i can deal with death and dying. not anyone else's, not my own.

11. i want to write about loving.but i dont understand relationships. the more i get older, the less i understand.

12. i think this blog is getting more and more pedantic.

Wednesday, November 15

its usually either me and dik // me and sup // sup and rid // sup rid and me.
but saturday night we got together all four of us after a long time.

(this below was the photosession after we woke up.)

anyway, they all took my case and dint give me dessert. riddhi and i were both pretty scared in dik's room in the night and sup did all she can to keep us scared.

about the pictures below-

the 3 strappychappal pics are (cherry color mine is) (regular strap is sup) (denim is ridd) in the middle of the night in thana on the road under a streetlamp or some such post a sudden decision dinner plan due to plan movements and as taught to me by supriya, no boni you dont have to always cancel a plan you can always move it! so now i am learning one more thing.

the last pictures have dik's feet and my hand in special appearance. and rid's foot in guest appearance.
(now that doesnt load sory)

i am writing this in a separate post cause of template trouble.

my nosering you cant see waaaah!

photos from saturday

Monday, November 13

i am groggy and grumpy and i don't want to talk to anybody


Sunday, November 5

right behind you a.k.a. i'll follow you into the dark a.k.a. i'd rather watch someone fuck a pig

Today I drank lots of coffee. I remembered the time I’d drink lots of really strong coffee.
I love radio I love the excitement of a song that plays and goes by and I don’t have any way of getting to it ever again….
I’m listening to someone that sounds as sincere and sombre as rufus wainwright in the coffeehouse station. A band called deathcab for cutie. I’ll follow you into the dark.

Meanwhile,Yahoo's radiostation for gay people - “Gay Club Mix” plays 'gay' music eg. Justin Timberlake’s “sexy back”.

I'm bringing sexy back

Them other boys don't know how to act
think your special
whats behind your back
So turn around
and ill pick up the slack.

Why does gay media(?) have to be so overly horny? I saw this film that was reviewed as being “hauntingly beautiful”, marvelously promoted by the british council. highly depressing. It’s also depressing how they screen these films in colleges and “liberated” teachers like N@ndini
Sardesai tell us to confront our discomfort to accept marginal existence. I remember she showed us BomGay as being this true document of gay life. It had some guy that went to pee in some subway and got assauled by another gay man/had to suck is thing on blackmail or some such thing. Rahul Bose fantacises 2 fried eggs on someone.
I’d rather watch someone fuck a pig.
This film "Yours Emotionally" had visual metaphors(?)/suggestions such as close up of hosepipe with frothy water shooting off, hanging lightbulb in frame, cannon. Had innuendos with what the film began – sms “wher are u// right Behind you” etcetera.
Had storyline à la pornographie and they promote it saying it has the richness of an early merchant ivory film. Eventually the older couple gets married and theyre damn happy cause now they can be be monogamous. Huh?
What I take back from Yours Emotionally(?) (I dint see ANY emotion in that film except for possessiveness and jealousy. Unless horny-ness is emotion. )
-is that gay men are oversexed unnatural creatures that want to fuck any ( * ) in sight. (yikes! pun un-intended). I’d be suicidal if I were a gay man.

so little sexuality and so much fuckin sex.

" Yours Emotionally feels like a beautiful fever dream inspired by both avant-garde gay cinema and the tropes of Bollywood." avant garde, yes piss-color sea.

Saturday, November 4

what i did in kolkata

watched eid ka chaand over the

dvitiya hooghli setu

pierced my nose for the third time and kept it though the bitch in the parlous said, hey! don't you think that looks odd and unfashionable

discovered a new + improved first cousin

drying sari at dakshineshwar

watched kids play kali shiv at dakshineshwar kali bari. Shiv says, get away you! or i'll throw this flower at you

i love the color pallette of the city

coming back train i awake lookin up ....

 i cant get enough of sky

sue me

Friday, November 3


what to write?

Thursday, October 26

i ate all this trash and my tummy is hurting real bad... so tomorrow's plan of eating exotic meat outside the veterinary hospital has to be shelved.

i bought pretty earrings though....

Thursday, October 12

two grins


1.15 am

i want to eat chocolates so badly today i ate a small five star, 3 perks and now this cadbury's desserts tiramisu.theyre all hideously sweet.craving killed. but i'm not satisfied. i am closing my eyes and pretended to be eating that thick hard and gooey cold chewy dutch truffle from birdy's that i so so so so so dig. mmmmmmmmmmmm.... actually i am not so much a chocolate bar person but my sweet tooth's on overdrive. but i think, the more a give her, the more she wants. so there. no more sweet for boni. so let's think of other things. so as i was saying, do wimmen deeply desire fascist men? and then what happens when feminist wimmen discover fascist men? do they have to kill their true desire for fascist man cause its against their politicial position to enjoy such pleasure? or does the feminist in her encourage the slave in her to unleash her servitude to actualise recognise and appreciate her true pleasure politics.and if she spends all her romantic energy analysing the relationship what will the poor slave do? doesnt she deserve her existence too? the above is an abstraction and any resemblance to anything supriya or anyone else might be saying is purely co-incidental.i should just write about chocolates. or shall i write about my positive views on interpersonal physical violence? nooo, not that. i mean.... how could you do that to me!! WhACK. there must be a way of recognising violence as not abuse between people. when domestic violence is not "domestic violence" but another honest bit of communication. ok, boni... you should sleep now. go to the fridge and eat the rest of the chocolate. brush your teeth. drink water. and sleep.

Monday, October 9

waaaaah no one reads my blog

i quit.

Sunday, October 8

my chhamiya look for navami... sans the red heels talking to someone on the phone
ma clicked.

Tuesday, October 3

the most spectacular visarjan happened last evening...
the pregnant sky expressed as the dhaak beats rose .... quickly she was lifted and circled and plunged lest she bleed away before she's meant to.
she was created as per the committe's specifications. distance between the eyes should be...
bisu, ma's too fat. no no, madam, the sari wont stay if we maker her thighs any leaner. she needs more hay.
while the pandit says- veda, vedanta, vedanga vidya sthanebbo ebocho
khusur phusur- asur and durga seem to be romancing. she needs to look more aggressive.

post all the bitching sessions by the various wimmen in the pratima committee and bisu being put in lock-up on suspision that he was hiding explosives inside the pratima, the earthen pratima, vegetable dyed, ecofriendly was brought to tejpal.
there she was deified. by memory, ritual and lots of dhaak, dhol, kaashi, shaankh and dhunuchi.

i served thousands of people on ashtami and navami days. won brownie points from maa.:D
the evening programme was a very engaging kaavya-giti. violin, percussion creating moodspaces, rhythms and making narrative of the poems presented.loved rendition of papangul. i love verses! by the time it was navami night i had all the motivation for the chhamiya look.
wore my (sexy) red blouse and (elegant) black georgette sari with gold-red border. went for the maha arati and took the shankh and played it till i fainted and my lips bruised.dhunuchi, dhaak, dhol, kaashi and shaankh just right. very very heady. very very happy.
parents decide to go to shivaji park.(i agree cause i wanna buy those terracotta earrings). my dainty redblack heels sink into the keechad. my heart sinks with it. but i lift up the hearts of those boys sitting on scaffolds while they laugh at me clumsily trying to yank my feet lodged ankle deep in sludge. more brownie points maa?

strange feeling as the sky let go on dasami at chowpatty. i stood at the threshold watching the boys throw ganesh kartik saraswati in one by one.... and then a loud 'aasche bochhor abar hobe'... and plunge.
a sudden sharp feeling that i have not known. so much expression spilling out, so much restraint, all of it plunged into the sea before the rain may bleed her eyes.
to scatter the emotion, the dhaaki breaks the wave on to his friend and he yelps and everyone laughs. the rain is hard and suddenly it's all over.

Wednesday, September 20

Thursday, September 7

curdled against ma las night . she humned and she thumped . and i was inside her again

Wednesday, September 6

has been transferred to nominee



iam reading this person's blog. this person who i decided broke every twig in my world five years back. but every word i read i feel forgiving. not that she needs any of my forgiveness.but i feel calmed and understanding and want to say it's okay, i know. yes yes. i can see how you find life so funny, the need to write a witty line,the need for restraint, the fear of role reversal. i am soothed to see you trying making a nest again from stray snatches of peace.or maybe it's because i feel, wow you're so broken now.serves you right,bitch.
but all my filthy wishes of having you die of green jaundice have been body will need time to catch up though since iam so used to detesting you. maybe my poison shouldnt have been for you but the person we both wanted to be dug into. perhaps i need my forgiveness more.



Sunday, September 3

*mumbles incoherently



current mood- crappy

*mumbles incoherently

dont wanna take pictures

i want my life in straight jacket

i want to travel

even commuting will do

maybe i'll just buy a titwala return and sit in the train or should i get a khargar return or do i want to watch the salt pans down to virar?

i like salt pans. i hope they dont make sea salt illegitimate and take away all that land.

i want to be reciting tappa in winter nights wearing a big bindi with thick curly black hair handkneaded into a bun held snug with an elderberry wildflower where my gutturals chafe skins into a deadwind summer.

But my skin is chafing with wood allergies again. every piece of furniture in my house is wooden, the doors are wooden and the skirting is wooden, the beds, chairs, all the cupboards, tables, even the big clock.



Wednesday, August 30


i thought i knew weird people
now i even know a closeted heterosexual bwhahahahahahaha

Tuesday, August 29

Is it time to read Pablo Neruda yet? I don’t know, so I read ee cummings hoping to find familiarity in a goat footed balloonman that whistles far and weeeeeee
where bettyanddisbel come from hopscotch and piracies in broken lines small letters. but I find …

a wind has blown the rain
away and blown the sky away
and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I
think, I too, have known autumn
too long.
- e e cummings

Monday, August 28


nitish is one of the most consistently good writers i know. (is that grammatically correct?)
his latest pretty line..
(when) she has stars in her eyes, her feet barely touch the ground.

even if he writes a bullet pointed how-to on some server it's fulfilling to read!
i will sell his letters and make a fortune when he gets famous

There is a word for it

tarantism (TAR-uhn-tiz-uhm) noun An uncontrollable urge to dance.

After Taranto, a town in southern Italy where this phenomenon was experienced during the 15-17th centuries. It's not clear whether tarantism was the symptom of a spider's bite or its cure, or it may have been just a pretext to dodge aprohibition against dancing. The names of the dance tarantella and the spidertarantula are both derived from the same place.

The director is in a wild delirium, spinning in circles as though stricken with
tarantism, his whirring camera held at arm's length, panning, tilting, arcing
and oscillating and making other moves that have no name.

Caelum Vatnsdal; Kino Delirium: The Films of Guy Maddin; Arbeiter Ring Publishing; 2000.
courtesy AWAD - anu garg

Sunday, August 27

Pune trip part1

1. hen is the gladiator
2. your guess is as good as mine
3. nishant is god cooldude avatar- absolut peach and classic milds
4. bug bite hen . hen bite bug

leftover tea
jasmine pods all flailed out

juto juti

plis clik on picture to see big big shoes and big big text
boni wants!!

Monday, August 21

shokol niye boshe achhi shorbonasher aashaye/

There is something about crimes of passion that I find sacred.
I am trying to expand on glob.1 of how domestic violence can be a beautiful thing. I am looking for words that don’t heave too much and a tone that wont aria too much. but then if it becomes placid will it be untrue to the nature of the moment? The way I cannot translate the nature of moments bismillah khan calls najayaz.
This isn’t supposed to be a winterfresh thin ice topic. It’s to be a clotted crimson lodged somewhere. So let’s thaw this a bit… till then, I keep talking about my piercing.
Its going to be 24hours since I dug through my cartilage and I think it was the meanest thing I could have done to my body. It looks pretty sometimes in the mirror but it doesn’t feel beautiful to me in my head. I know now one thing - this whim thing is not for me and when I get cold feet I should respect it. I want to un-rip it. I want my nose to be whole again. godf says if I hate it at first I’ll fall in love with it. But I feel disrespectful towards my body and I am guilty of being abusive of it. He says we hate what we do with our bodies in an attempt to beautify mollify attract piss off someone else. But the body is personal. Something done for self is beautiful, he says. I think it’s true. I don’t know why I did this anymore. A silly whim. Maybe I should think before doing things. And I don’t want to see the hole. No feel good. I am not a piercing person.

Sunday, August 20

continued from glob.11

So I am super sucky at judging people’s intentions. Sup, the only person I thought would back out, did not. In fact, when I got my fight or flight syndrome on overdrive, it was she that thrust me on the chair and held my hand and gently instructed me to shut the fuck up and do it. She went first. I held her hand. She held mine. Surprisingly, diki turned up and promised to pierce the kachkach part of her ear. (she dint)

However, the community that was to come, did not.Nikita had to get to work on sunday. Rai went for a namkaran ceremony. Harita dint come to bombay cause …ummm……and she’s stealing booz off this sound engineer that I was eyeing. but she’s promised to share him with though technically she was eyeing him before me. :D :D :D thats the nice thing about school friends. way to go harita! lasso him!

Saturday, August 19


there are so many things i had to write about, i dont know where to start and how to write about them.

1. of how domestic violence can be such a beautiful thing. sincerely.

3. of wanting to move to pune.

5.pune trip was so frikkin awesome and i havent seen so much fighting compressed into 5 days. harita and nishant drove each other mad. after a while it drove me mad. bodhisattva henry was full of peace of succour.
twinkee on the other hand failed to make an appearance despite the carrot of chicken n wine for somethings cookin!

7. the trick to a longlasting relationship is to be in love with someone who completely doesnt understand you. so you can never say...oh we dont understand each other anymore. its amazing. cause you cant even grow in different directions. yes, may need different support system.

9. about my toy rat i got from behrampada.

5. of a certain purple shirted rohanshivkumar's piercing that looks so pretty as if he was born with it. i'm so frikkin lost about what i wanna do with my frikkin life

9. of the time i discovered toppa songs... rizwana banya sings them in a loungy way but i still like it.

11. sex and violence and vice versa.

11. why do i want to pierce my nose? is it because i have an uneventful life so i need a stimulant? will it lower my self worth knowing that wannabe rock fans get piercings to heighten their selfimage and feel 'arrived' ? is it strange to hang foreign objects from one's body parts? will body reject this foreign object and swell and make pus? apparantly its also a quasi self destructive art but hey i just want a nose piercing! boni, dont think so much. just get it done.see itll looks so pretty!but my nose is so snub and rounded at the tip you cant even see the goddamned piercing.
hmmmm but then it's this irreversible commitment.

apparantly, Nose piercing was brought to India in the 16th Century from the Middle East by the Moghul emperors. In India a stud (Phul) or a ring (Nath) is usually worn in the left nostril. The left side is the most common to be pierced in India, because that is the spot associated in Ayuvedra (Indian medicine) with the female reproductive organs, the piercing is supposed to make childbirth easier and lessen period pain.

If the gun comes in contact with the inside of the nose potentially fatal micro-organisms (Staphyloccocus Aureus), can be transmitted between customers, and as aproximately 30% of the population have residant colonies of Staph. Aureus in their noses, you have a 1 in 3 chance of developing a potentially fatal infection, because of the proximity of the nose to the brain. et cetera et cetera .....

and i was thinking of getting a gun thing done. aaaargh. now i am all enlightened.also i will not use silver. ma was right. silver is bad bad bad idea. its carcinogenic and causes all these bad reactions.
i'll have to deal with those lumps forming around my nose. one year is too long to deal with.i wish ma pierced my nose when i was little.

Body Piercing Problems Emergencies Call 911 or other emergency services immediately.
Rapid swelling of the tongue or throat, causing difficulty swallowing or breathing
Severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis)

Moderate to severe difficulty breathing

hmmm... so we're gonna be doing community piercing this sunday before i do anymore google research and change my mind. nikita has a pretty nose.she's a punju pyt.she'll look pretty with nose pierce. harita's down for the weekend, she'll get yet another ear piercing. hen says he'll pierce himself. sup i think will back out. rai says she hasnt prepared herself for it.

13. how i dont feel like taking pictures anymore.

Thursday, August 10

people i met at the sophia polytech




riddhi is the gujjuben. her sister was in the process of getting married all through the year. she makes the best excuses in the world for not doing work/not turning up/forgetting- and all of that indignantly.
Eg.i cannot come for the shoot because i have to go to my designer.
did i mention she was production person for our class docu?hehe. much fun. she is a paranoid jain with a meateating bong boyfriend. hehehe.

rai&me are at a 25th marriage anniversary of someone we have commonlink with.Rai calls her shikha-di though she's actually her dida(granma) in relation. i call her shikha-mashi and her husband gautam-kaku. we are both drunk and decide to be sober when sloshed middleaged men start dancing with us to kala kauua kaat
all her ex-ex boyfriends' mothers still shower her with gifts.

cherry i thought was the snootiest bitch in scm but she's the loveydoveyest. she's quite mad and sings at the swanky hotels like the renaissance, at not just jazz by the bay etc. much abandon in her voice. she's done her masters in lit and writes for man's world now. this chick fled to dubai for some bliss while everyone else went mad postproduction. now Thats what i like.

Wednesday, August 9


Last night grew out of candela’s frazzled hairs... many swift feet dancing their nightly prayers...
Dancing down the stairs... candela’s frazzled hairs having affairs

My eyes schlepped.
.......................but candela’s frazzled hairs, said their prayers and had affairs...

Reserved for the k

kay so go ahead. post in the comments.

Tuesday, August 1

xavier's loos

much time has been abandoned here... in waiting.
at the 30s loo behind psycho lab.

Saturday, July 29

. . . "And if anybody was to come to you and say, “I know the Javva currents,” don’t you listen to him; for those currents is never yet known to mortal man. Sometimes they’re here, sometimes they’re there, but they never runs less than five knots an hour through and among those islands of the Eastern Archipelagus. There’s reverse currents in the Gulf of Boni—and that’s up north in Celebes—that no man can explain.... "

Friday, July 28

My first Contest

Now it is not very often that I am driven to write about giftable items that I see advertised on some website. but this is special.
in the above image there is gladrags, the Keeper, the Diva Cup, the jade and pearl.

If ANYONE reading can guess what these exotic things are, they get free dessert. Seriously!
NO cheating!

Thursday, July 27

hen is real pissed cause he got frisked at the station.
they sized him up, spoke to him badly and took his name, address etc. he wasnt even carrying any baggage with him.
just the famous 21 colorpieced jap umbrella (which technically belongs to me cause he gifted it to me. but he borrows it from me every monsoon.)
he says it's discrimination against beards and bald heads. my brother says its probably cause they thought he was mao-ist. everytime something like this happens he thinks more about AFSPA and home.
after the blasts he said- it feels like home. doesnt feel like home anymore i suppose cause now the cops always size him up at stations.upsetting.
(also he lost the umbrella! waaaaaaaah)

hen in self portrait

Edouard Boubat

La petite fille aux feuilles mortes" 1947 © EDOUARD BOUBAT
little girl in dead leaves

at sunderbhai hall two evenings ago, i saw this big book of portraits.
what poetry
what magic
what romance
what spirit
god i want to click people again.

i cant find online the pictures i so loved.
i love boubat and i hope it doesnt go away

i am really really looking for this book !

Wednesday, July 26

Where have all the snails gone! And the little lime tu-tus that danced around my letters in kitten heels? eyelashes.. arched necks….lizards. Its been long since I squiggled on paper...handwrote letters.
Y!Doodle where are you my savior! my mouse is so shticky now. i miss what it was to Y!Doodle
. I want my mouse and Y! Doodle back!!! waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

12. 8. 2004 /

My first movie review

(No, Spoilers cant follow)

Yun hota to kya hota....what if?
(need i say more?)

suhasini muley
suhasini muley dancing svelte in red lycra
irfan khan kisses suhasini muley!!
ratna pathak and paresh rawal love story! ...... sigh...lovelier, more touching...than all the others...

some forced theatrical bits like " mujhe mil jo jae thoda paisa " followed by "sare jahan se achha"

like Naseer Shah Jr. mouthing hindi monologues in drama speech pattern
forced metaphor like abandoned woman in red addicted blowing bubbles in her house
konkona sensharma is so irritatingly screechy but...thats just me.
the ending is...ohhh! should i tell you? besides being like a bad old music video.... heal the world sob
"ek baar jana...america" horrid song

ayesha takia in lots of clothes.... what to say? how does she walk on heels with those?

Tuesday, July 25


the top of my lavender bottle cover sliced off onto my hands leaving the oil wide eyed like a Cyclops.
Since I couldn’t shut the eye, I shut the door.BigBang!of wooden door and my cupcake tray hurrying out of the cabinet clumsily upset the stash of mustard bottles. Bloody klutz! Just like me. 3 bottles of mustard lay grinning on the floor. Before it hit my nose it hit my eyes and my kitchen was turning pale pale pale….
I dread what comes out of the eye of the Cyclops because it will turn the most agreeable smell into a pursuing blackwidow bee. Reminds me of how my nose would quiver when it detected anything the texture of lo mani. And my skin would call to mind the reaper.

Shall I put a picture of the reaper here?
Klutz. I like saying it. Klutz. Klutz. Klutz. Distilling it, I find some profane sounds. Klutz carries more spirit than ‘clumsy’ ever could.
Clumsy fizzles out.
Klutz scolds, points a finger at your nose.
doesn’t try to play it down like ‘Clumsy’.

when you really mean to begin with k, you shouldn’t begin with a c
the l latches onto k more aggressively.

Please let your tongue do the comparing.

Clean /clement/ clear/ claims/ clams v/s Klammer/ klumb/ klom/ klim/ Kleenex

Time I slept. Here, the picture of the reaper. Ta-da!

Should I upload it now? Or maybe in the daytime. I have to get my blanket from the other bed all the way down the living room. The curtains must be open with wet trees…can the reaper come in through the sheer?
Those who want to see a picture of the reaper please google it. The goriest one with a big sickle is the one I am talking about.

ok so i scampered back with my blanket...
but i cant find that picture anymore..... make do =



Thursday, July 20

flyby verses

i could begin telling you of the delicious feeling i get when the abstract and material cometoghether so seamlessly- when a transposition is so lucid - that epiphany takes effort of a preoccupied tuttifutti. but this image is i cannot show you the entire verse of the gulls.

Wednesday, July 12

'but it rained' by nitish

thankyou shukla! for such cool font! i really love the faces. i can stare at them for hours!!really.

Monday, July 3

my blue earrings

everyones always going into deep discourses with self about what is the blog and who it really caters to. is it for the anonymous reador that clicks 'next blog' while procrastinating about cleaning up her life or is it for the friend that stops by when theyre bored and could do with some passive conversation or is it for self that can have some self indulgence when theyre staring at screen after having typed,,, etc etc involuntarily and dont know what to type anymore.
thankfully, i dont need to do such digging deeps cause no one really reads this blog.
incidentally discourse is latin for the act of running about. but considering the heavyweight patriarchal associations that (seem to)have chewingummed to the word, feminists (seem to) hate it and instead (seem to)use the term conversations. 'towards a new feminist epistemology' as spivak would root.i only root for long haired countries, the flamenco kinds.anything spanish-mexican-italian-yo'know is good. whats with venezuela. where is it on the map? they have such gorgeous men and women, i wonder how theyre a monogamous nation.or maybe theyre not. like the rest of us.why does scandanavia(whoever corrected my marignated spelling pliss do the honors) have such strange laws. i had read in a science journal that there are gay and bisexual drosophilae, flies,lions etc. anyway, theyre mutated dna.
i am thinking i should be a travel writer. my writing travels much even in front of the comp.
its been so long since i put pen to paper. my handwritings all confused if it's supposed to be cursive or float between the lines, or if itis supposed to creep on them. the ring finger on my right hand has healed since i havent held a pen/cil in hand for months now.
i cant find ANY of my music. Panic. if anyone has blues with tomtom and meandering deep voices please let me know. any acoustic music.