Mischief and the doggy girl

Met the doggy girl last evening and it turns out we have more than common sun signs…the list how ever endless and still not completely drawn out. Starts with our recent all time low… we agreed that having loving friends and in her case even a boy friend didn’t really help much … in our weakest hour we had both craved the undivided attention of any one being. We wanted to be asked why?? A million times and refuse to answer and then have this fantasy person cuddle and cajole us and pamper the living day lights out of us… weirdly enough our weakest hour even happened to be the same hour… and she had tried to call me to talk and I had not taken her calls (what with a self imposed hiatus on call receiving.)

And the best or the worst part was that I only realized that I had been driving for 3 hours when I got home.

She hates hyd but literally screeched to make the car halt at paradise to pick up haleem. She has been warned not to speak ill of my city.

She wants me to come over for lunch and breezers over the weekend, I would love; to she has a lovely puppy (copper, Neapolitan mastiff), and a decent kinda dude of a boy friend who she is a refreshingly unattached to, but what if I get too used to her, and then she’ll have to go back to Bangalore.
Not exactly the situation I would like, considering the resident friends have been unavailable leavening me with ample time to meet new folk.  

WTF, I am off if not for lunch, to play with Mischief.

Will post pics…and for those of you who don’t know please be checking the ‘flickr’ account and leaving comments… you don’t have to pos pics to open an account...

...

I thought a lot
And now I know
What I want
Not a person not a place
Just some space, and a little more
I want I know -
To taste some ones teeth
To feel their feet, with my toes…
To be me, for you to see Me
For you to know- why?

There are thing I cant explain and
Other I don’t want to…
Is a little patients,
and freedom…
a few words,
too much to ask for?
Is it really so difficult to let me go?
Is it really so easy to tie me down?

Am I not sprit enough?

And then I find myself desperate and groping towards options I never thought were mine…
of a higher education they say??
for a higher life,
of a higher plane I feel a traitor…

The weirdest man in the world
just walked into the room.
But I am not there,
my existence unknown,
my name a mystery;

We smile at each other-

but I am not in the room,
that he just walked into.

A bond forever between,
two strangers-
a smile did forge…

When rage became her,

Blue frames of fire, held
Memories, of another time.

Orange boxes, held
Heart breaks…the unexplained kind.

Pink clouds, folded
To keep from tarnish
a childhood, almost divine.

Grey smoke, wrapped
The arguments that didn’t mind.
And held up, in light the ones that
Make the Mind.

The Making of the Mind was another thing,
But also the one that made her Rage.

The lack of conviction…
in The Self that hates it the most.
The lack of insight,
to the ones it cares for most…
for, of jealousy that it detests…
has now become a store.
And the hatred, of the self, is when …
Rage becomes her.

Life in the day of…II

His words echoed in her head…’how common place’ He used to say stuff like that…all the time, stuff that would hurt her...he enjoyed her calm being washed away. It fascinated her how he would return and sometimes, his voice in her mind… echoed in the emptiness. She wondered and thought back on the days that they had been together…

They hadn’t been particularly happy times, it was pleasant to have the evenings booked with some sort of activity ... but that was It, pleasant and cozy!! Not even close to happy!!
She remembered happy…
She was 13, and had just returned from school, her parents were out , but she didn’t mind, she turned on the music and sat near the speaker, her ear pressed to it and her hand feeling the speaker move. She stretched and then turned to lie on her belly …the paper was in place and the pen began to move, her stomach felt cool from the floor through the ground. She never told people this but …even 9 years later, she remembered details of the room, to such an extent that it scared her.
She had dozed off that day, but the words were all there prefect and complete, without so much as a confession of their creators slumber. Each, with a purpose, and with a passion… that was happy!!Her realization, that she was not just any other girl, that she could in fact create such wonder from such a ‘common place’ type thing…had been her victory...her happiness!! She liked ‘Happy’, ‘pleasant’ or even ‘occupied’ was too mediocre … the word rose in her head, in baby pink clouds… smelling of hot coffee on a Sunday morning, and jasmine…pure white and fresh!!

Life in the day of…

Her fingers had not stopped typing in just over 30 seconds… but she had to stop now …the typographical errors with their bright red marks… were dancing on the screen … begging her attention… so she looked up, corrected the errors, and got back to putting down on paper the words as they formed in her head…
She had said it before...they were not so much a friendly entity, as a demon ... one that had taken up permanent residence in her head… she remembered times when her thoughts were bright colorful, celluloid dreams… all she had to do was give them a little attention, and they would take over her thoughts and it was an escape from reality like none other…
Now it was so different... she had to concentrate on reality to stay away from the words in her head… They were not pictures ... they were smoky gray clouds... Forming the words and then sentences, which she had to obey like commands from a master.
She had never understood her relation ship with the words…but it had been unreal, most unnatural; she was so ‘common place’- in his words. So normal … so middle class... your typical girl next door chubby cheeked charming and all, and yet some where in the early years, she had given her self to the words… not in a resignation but in recognition of their ability to communicate with her.
‘This is your world’ …she felt the words rise in her head… she smiled ... she was watching a woman carrying a baby in one arm and a basket of oranges on her head, she was cursing under her breath, a man positively drunk (at 10 in the morning), was following her…
she wondered who the words had been for…