Sometimes...

Sometimes you're lost in times gone by
You're standing right there as the world passes by
You want to race back to what once was
Time never waits; you're still fighting for a pause
The moment was too sweet but it cannot be relived
Precious times wait ahead, bygones cannot be retrieved
Sometimes someone's memories keep me submerged
When all the wonders of the world are just not enough

Sometimes you've lost all feelings and sensation
When you no longer are, but just a spectator
When experiences merely happen, and not lived through
And what you really see is not percieved to be true
For you are there elsewhere, in a world of your own
With the ones who are missing; the ones present, a lore
Sometime's someone's one whisper has the power to summon
When all the vivacity of the world is just not enough

Sometimes somewhere you're struck by what you see
Lovers sometimes, or huge groups of old friends filled with glee
You are surprised and disgusted by the emotion rising in you
Jealousy abound, you wish that that could be you
Jealousy becomes hatred, those people you scorn
You are shocked by the change, happy past is now a thorn
Sometimes that yearning sends tremors to the core
And you feel that nothing else could have hurt more

Sometimes you're so happy, the bounty of joy
The King of the world, fate your toy
Everything seems perfect and you're at bliss
And no happiness ever could give you a miss
You're content, not wanting, not wishing
But not peaceful, you realize something's missing
Sometimes someone's one little smile makes up
When the entire world's laughter is not enough

Sometimes...entire hours of being together simply don't do
And sometimes, just a little promise of the future pulls me through

Vote for me now! Blogomania 2011 sponsored by CommonFloor.com - India’s Leading portal to find apartments for sale and apartments for rent

Maestro Me

Let me begin with a description of my musical abilities. I am exquisite! My vocals can be used as an alarm clock to wake up the deepest of sleepers. There is no difference between my high pitch and my low pitch notes, since I don't like to differentiate and make the other scales of notes feel bad. My appreciation of live band performances goes as far as acknowleding, "Aha! It is some tune after all!" I can skip concerts and not feel guilty (my very own bathroom concerts are so amazing, you see :p). The only person I can sing in chorus with is my dad, we are so amazing that others think we are horrible; people are so constrained in their praise, I tell you :p They can't even appreciate the new lyrics we fill the old Hindi songs with to go with the situation... :( I have never touched a single instrument in my life, simply because my inbuilt, god-gifted musical ability is complete in itself. I am so great that I don't care to remember songs by their titles, giving them names of my own...and still expecting people to understand. For instance, when Corazon once asked me if I had heard 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift, I shook my head even though I had heard it. Crazy? Maybe...that song went by the name 'Sneakers' in my head, how was I expected to recognise?? :p

So moving on, a friend of mine, let's call her Friend, needed to buy herself a guitar. Friend was running on a deadline and she truly-madly-deeply (I mean desperately :p How much I love music! Song lyrics swim in my head all the time!) needed somebody to go with her. After asking four or five people who could genuinely not go with her, she finally came to ask me. Poor thing :p

Friend: "Hey Archika! Wassup?"
Me: "..sky?..."
Friend: "Haha! I'm gonna get a guitar!"
Me: "Wow that's cool! Toh muje thodi na Nobel Prize mil gaya."
Friend: "Tu bhi kamal karti hai. Come along?"
Me: "No"
Friend: "Please??"
Me: "No"
Friend: "Pleeaaassee???"
Me: "NO"
Friend: "Pleeeaaaaaassssssseeeee????"
Me: "NO NO-NO NO NO NO!"

If you were to talk to Corazon and Mehr about me, they would tell you how painfully obstinate I can be. Nahi matlab nahi, bas, discussion khatm :p But if you were to prod them just a little more, they would also tell you how greedy and selfish I can be. Sigh, the curse of my life :p

I don't know how did she know about this weakness of mine, but Friend used it against me.

Friend: "Alright, I'll give you something in return. Will you come?"
Me: "Hmm..like what?"
Friend: "...Butterscotch shake from Keventer's?"
Me: "TWO."
Friend: "Huh, fine!"
Me: "I'm not done yet, you will have to get me a paneer kulcha too. And an orange ice lolly. And an auto ride, no rickshaw."
Friend: "GOD! It's December and you still want an icecream! Okay :p Anything else your highness :p"
Me: "One last thing, I want to be the first one to strum your guitar, shubh shuruwat :D NOW LET'S GO DUDETTE! :D"

Friend was as good as her word, I got all the treats that had been promised XD But she never let me touch her guitar again after that one time :p Why, you ask? Well, I did not wait to reach our destination and zipped out the tambura from its bag in the auto itself...and started singing while making awesome noise with the guitar-"Give me some sunshine/ give me some rain/ give me another chance I wanna grow up once again/ LA LA LALA OUWWA OUWWA TUMSE HAI TUMSE PYAR/ OUWWA OUWWA MANO NA MERE YAAR AAAAA....."

The driver and Friend were shocked to listen to this sangam of two awesome songs by the awesome me. Dind't I tell you, people are so constrained in their praise :(

I had started this story with the theme of 'while my guitar gently weeps'...but when the driver said, "Madam rehne do, policewale pakad lenge" I had no choice but to change it to 'while my guitar SCREECHES and WAILS' :p

Untill later, Cuidate!

Vote for me now!

Ladification - II

( -continued)

That was how it was untill school, but college life brought a deadly shock.

There was this cousin of mine, let's call her Don, who I was particularly fond of. Though we saw each other annually, we were great buddies :) To this day we hold the record of not a single fight ensuing between us. As I child, I literally idolised Don. She wasn't a girl at all! (I meant, not a girl in her ways and mannerisms :p). Her playmates were her elder brother's friends; all the girls in the society envied and hated her; the only girlfriends she had were the teenagers who always danced on her finger tips; she could fight with and put down almost anyone; everybody at school knew her. What was their not to love about Don? :D Me and Don had many adventures toghether, beautiful memories, and timeless moments :) She was what I aspired to be...

And now imagine how crushed I was when I discovered that my idol had been ladified :'( On a particular visit after college had begun, Don showed me a perfect walk in heels. Her wardrobe had the most chic of stuff to the very stylish and traditional wear. She had a few "cute" watches; one of her ankles was adorned with the despicable thin wire with trinkets that girls are so fond of wearing; her earing collection was larger than mine (okay, this doesn't count :p It always was :p Infact, she was the one I stole from :p); her bag, I'm sorry, her handbag, was filled with the many cosmetic tubes that are still so alien to me; she had those cute and funky chappals; a few bracelets; a heart shaped pendant (eeewhhh! heart shaped! though its classy, still... :p), blah blah, blah blah and blah.

She even did a repeat of the Zahira episode with me :p My Don, my own gunda Don, was persuading me to go for threading (I'm so sick of all these naggings now) :p The four days that we were toghether all she talked about was stuff like this :-/ She kept telling me of her plans of having more ear-piercings, how her parlour appointments had been delayed, how the boys in college were going crazy about her. She even wanted to know of my opinion on whether she should have her hair rebonded (for the uninitiated, it's a treatment in which your dog-like hair is magically transformed to Pantene hair :p). Seriously, am I the one to ask all this about? Does she not know me yet? :-/ And for the record, her hair is already perfectly straight and silky smooth (alliteration!) :p

But the rudest shock of the ordeal was when we were (she, basically) getting ready to go out. Don settled herself in front of the mirror, whipped out a tiny kaajal-stick, and deftly lined her eyes with the black paste of coal.

I could only watch with my mouth wide open with shock and disbelief. I spent the rest of that evening in silence, as a mark of remembrance to the brave warrior in the battle against Ladification that Don had once been... :p

Untill later, Cuidate!