Saturday, 31 January 2009

part of the script i'm writing..
this could be dialogue.this could be images.this could be music..
don't know yet..

it felt like i'd been traveling for just too long one day
i couldn't remember their faces any more
it felt like a new one was getting in every time
a new one i was wary of all over again
sometimes i'd look up to see why he chose to look at me now in his rear view mirror only to find him to have changed shape yet again.
once i made one stop for half an hour,when i got back there were six of them standing where i'd left the one.which one was it?
till one,this guy sitting on a pavement ,smiled.
i walked blindly to him,he got into the auto rickshaw,and sang a strangely familiar tune.i sat back in my seat.he was the one from the morning,it was alright.

Purple lit early mornings

today a friend and i were having dinner early in the morning.
he started laughing madly suddenly.i looked passively at him over the eggs. he stopped and resumed his serious expression,
and said,"You're a joke.a JOKE.
Y'know something that's funny in the end?"

I woke up in the morning

Monday, 19 January 2009

baby duties at my table today
when you're hit by a lot of vocals you tend to settle down into whatever is easiest on the ears..listen to 'rewind' by Goldspot on my 'nefarious'(**yes ,yes arpit..we will exercise these excesses**) podcast.

to get some things out of the way,on my long saunter around the western coast i had lots of things dying to come out in some form,so before i get over the urge,permit me to exegete.
firstly,if you're meaning to ask me why the words are hurling around corners and being slammed in your face,then,i'd tell you it's because a friend and i have decided to exercise our late(nt) vocabularies...something must come of mr. mCaulay's superbly successful endeavors which have left me me with broken hindi,broken malayalam,broken french,broken italian,broken marathi.

one must do something with this strangely sound english then.who knows, the writing might even seem to be in cipher to those used to their packet of ten word vocabularies.even much can one iron out the wrinkles for the sake of deconstruction.'Balls to it.',she says.

for those who are still reading,(lol...)our game involves not using any thesaurus or dictionary in the extrusion,like while one is writing...because more often than not we're frighteningly bang on with the exact meanings..god knows what all is stored in the recesses of this brain..

like this word my friend adopted recently..
nubivagant, adj.
moving through or among the clouds