Home

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Mind yer own booswax.


As time ticked by, people grew richer and houses grew smaller. Back then he had been so highly regarded, living in the attic and popping out every now and then to give his homeowners a bit of a fright. He was respected in the community, a role model. Now the only place he could get any peace and quiet was in that little box under the table. It lay silent all day when the brats were at school and he could ruminate in peace about all that had been. But in the evenings, lord, what a racket! A constant hammering and whirring.  Every few days he would lose his temper, stick his head out the box, right out of the Esc. key and crankily ask the kids to go out and play badminton or something, because all that typing was giving him a headache. Oh, how they laughed at him.

This was humiliating.

You gotta feel bad for old fashioned ghosts in this time and age. They must be damn bewildered. They can’t even commit suicide.


Monday, July 16, 2012

Deep. Deeeeep.


Life is quicksand. The people in your life are different objects in your own personal quicksand. You hold onto some and try to haul yourself out while you touch others and instantly sink. Sink deep down till the mud fills your mouth and ears and nose and poof, you're gone.

Taken frame by frame, life is excruciating. In fast forward, life is inconsequential. But we're cool and useless so we take it nice and slow. Life is grim. It is grey. We move slowly and deliberately through it in slow motion. We see our arms and legs leave streaks in the surroundings.We waddle through an invisible molasses, which isn't even sweet. Bastard molasses.

If we had to be suspended in something, it should be lemon jelly. Lemon because it'd be a nice neutral colour and we would at least feel fresh all the time, and jelly because this lovely lady makes it sound so very appealing.

Friday, July 13, 2012

#55WordStory - Scream

Theme: Scream



Her shriek echoed through the empty rooms; the kind that’d spur a buff Bollywood hero into action. The kind that’d cause a camera to rapidly zoom onto curtains flapping at the window of a bedroom with ominously disheveled sheets. It spoke of unmentionable horrors.

He sleepily stepped out of the bathroom and squished the bug.


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

You're a heel.


You know when you're really tense and scared and you desperately need some release but you're at home and can't do much, so you scream loudly into a pillow while playing loud music in the background? That feels so good, no? Well, taking off a pair of painful heels feels better than that.

My big toe is nonchalantly relived but acting like a tough guy while my little toe would hug me and weep with gratitude if it could.

Taking the lid off a pressure cooker doesn't release as much pressure as taking off a pair of painful heels does.

Now imaging myself exhaling steam. I'm a dragon yo. A dragon that can cook perfect khichdi.

Friday, July 06, 2012

Death cab for cutie


Liking something requires too much jhing bang nowadays.

If I like a few songs of some band, I don’t usually bother to find out which albums they’re from, when they were released, the detailed history of the band, or the lead singer’s sister’s real hair colour. But people refuse to accept me as a fan unless I have all this information. 

No one has any respect for the half hearted. We're people too, ok.

**

Someone I knew very vaguely passed away yesterday. She seemed really nice. It's a terrible thing to have happened, and I hope her friends and family get through this ok. 

A while back, someone told me about a study conducted to analyse human behaviour, which established that the average time a person spends grieving a death is 6 minutes. 

I've spent a lot of time just thinking about this preposterous little figure. 6 minutes.

Although I outraged at first, what's become increasingly and disturbingly apparent to me, with time, is that this figure might not be that preposterous after all.

People invariably have to forget and move on. They must. Obviously. But it makes me uneasy to realise that most of our lives will be reduced to one miniscule 6 minute blip in the giant sine wave of life.

Thursday, July 05, 2012

#55WordStory - Mystery



Theme: Mystery

He grew up wanting to live the Enid Blyton mysteries he devoured. Later, the mysteries of science and religions of the world fascinated him. An inferno of potential, one day he would have stunned the world. Preempting all that, as he stood on the ledge, the mysteries of the heart led to his downfall.


Thud.