I won't stay around happiness for long . . .

Don't keep me too happy,
'Coz I won't stay long then. . .

A soul that seeks the pleasures of sadness
that seeks the little points of light that leak in the crevices of darkness
I won't stay long around happiness. . .

Blessed with the curse of gloom and melancholy,
The joy of pity and the grace of sorrow,
The pride of shame and suffering insult -
Keep my sparce soul drugged. . .
So I won't stay long around happiness. . .

Thoughts of bitterness and memories of disgust
Keep me alive and remind me of my existence
N I won't stay long around happiness. . .

So don't try my love, to give me the joy of your heart. . .
Don't try my love, to keep me drunk -
drunk on your innocent love's insistance on laughter and sweetness
For I won't stay drunk for long my love...
I won't stick around happiness for long...

Let go of me I tell you,
For all I would do is hurt you
and hurt myself in the process
For I am drugged on sorrow my love

Clinging to the sheer pain of life
I draw you near to my weeping heart
Make you go through all that turmoil
For that is all I can hear in my head in the eternal silence of life

I live in a world of grey
where you are pricked and poked in different levels of pain
just so you would know that you are...

Which is why I tell you

I won't stay long around happiness...
For I am a soul that seeks the infinite bliss of killing one's own soul just so as to say "C you are alive"...!
- the ecstacy of slow death, a privilege of the mortals. . .

Whack!!

Heart is a pros***ute and the mind is the pimp!

Writing is like love, you can't decide to write even if you feel like you want to... It has to happen!

People lie because they're scared, either of telling "you" the truth or of the "truth itself"!

Theirs. . .

It was her.  He picked the ringing fone softly flashing her name to her fav song.  Her voice melodious as always, tugged at the depth of his heart. He could hear the excitement - of a secret about to be shared - in her voice, as she invited him to their fav meeting spot to tell him about something important, "for a special surprise" as she put it.  His eyes were softening at the sound of her voice, but also had the pain they always bore, whenever he heard her.  He smiled, so she could hear it in his voice and said he'll be there, for after all, he had been expecting this call.  He went about his day of work, without any visible distraction, but a neat undercurrent of memories, wishes, hopes, disappointments, love, misery.

He was there, 15 mins ahead in time and stood at the shore and let the lapping waves soothe his tired body while his heart raced.  But he exuded calm and cool, as always.  He sensed her and turned, she walked to the spot beside him and stood enjoying the soothing waves and the beautiful scenery, emanating soft beauty, as always.  The beach was mostly deserted at this late twilight hour.  They walked to their fav bench, she entwined her hand through his elbow on the way and he responded with a reassuring smile.

As they sat at the bench, she took his hand in hers and smiled, eyes widened, he understood her question and pretended a "no guesses" shrug of his shoulders but with enough enthusiasm to egg her on.  She placed his palm on her abdomen and he heard the faint but racing pulse as his own rose to match.  He searched her eyes and she replied with her twinkle eyed smile, cracking a dimple at one cheek.  He fell in love, all over again, as always.

"I did it", she said, almost trembling with passionate enthusiasm, "Artificial Insemination, State sperm Bank, they did not reveal the donor, not even to me, rules, and am only glad.  Called mom and dad and gave them the news.  They cut, not just the call."  He could see her swallowing the bitterness and disappointment gracefully and bring back her charming smile.  He wanted to engulf her in a hug.  "It's ok", she said as his care and worry for her showed in his eyes, "this heartbeat cures more than I imagined it would", she looked at her abdomen fondly.

He did not take his hand off her pulsing abdomen till they parted for the evening.  He dropped her at her door, a cozy little house where she lived alone, refused her offer to go inside with a whispered goodnight kiss on her forehead which she returned with a warm bear hug.

He left after she walked in and waved a good bye from inside the chain locked door.  He reached home, called up the doctors, the sperm bank and his confidente, the friend who pulled the strings.  Thanked them all  for her safety and for keeping his identity a secret, as a tear drop streaked his one cheek.

Your silken fingers with their roughened skin, gracefully wrap around my Jugular again…

Your knees pressing  hard against my ribcage
Your strong hands suffocating me more with each breath I take

I’m blacking out,
I’m seeing stars,
Losing my senses and fading fast
Present tense a pretense, the darkness of my past, Moving like shadows cast, in the night…

You change your mind, release a bit, the rush of air, disorienting me more,
You relent your grip, I try to get up and trip, face down…
You turn me on my back, run your fingers across my neck, resting your knees on my chest again…

I do not have the strength to be scared, nor the sense to surrender
I take rattling breaths, battling to stay alive, to feel you against me for some more time

Your silken fingers with their roughened skin,  gracefully wrap around my Jugular again…

I snuggle closer to you, you respond with a harder press of your knees on my chest…
I put my shivering hand, cold, around your waist, Your body hot from the exertion…


You place a delicious kiss on my charred lips, dry from the silent exhaution, making me long for more
You lovingly wipe my forehead, my panic sweat, making me yearn for more of that comfort…


I mutter and sputter, you lean in close, to listen to my death wish
I pull you close to me, my last remaining ounce (of energy) exerted, your hot breath on my face,
  moving a strand of stray hair, disheveled by my struggle.


Your grip not strong enough by the distraction now, I take that (the) chance to crane my neck to reach higher
I catch your lips with mine and you grant me my parting gift
And at that moment, in your eyes, I saw my imminent death…


I felt love, in your last strangle at my throat,
Your beautiful face was the last thing inhaled…
While your sensuous, lingering kiss, leveraged me into a final orgasm - Death…

Beware! Boss is online too! :P

I put this up on my gmail status yesterday while online from office:

Ma first post at TrendStash: http://trendstash.com/2010/02/18/is-managing-your-odor-a-tall-order/

and then updated it to also have:

 and Damn these Tubelights...!: http://ujjuhere.blogspot.com/

for I had just completed my almost-complete post at the blogspot while my server (the one on which I was supposed to work and copy files from - slow as a turtle job I tell you) was taking its own sweet aeons to load.

I had slackened on the usual cautiousness I exercise while using office network.  And tang bang!!! there is a ping from ma boss:

boss: do you have any tasks for the day ...or are you busy in writing blogs?

shoot shoot shoot! damn it!  irundalum, no salt whatsoever - so vizhundalum meesaila mannu ottalanu (ppl pls don dare to crack tat u don hav a mustache PJ again in my comments section pls... !!! *roll my eyes*) I said:

me: the server is slow to open, so using the time in betn to complete the blog I had almost completed yesterday.  The other one is an article i updated in the non office hours

(Russel Peter style) Hey man, I am so cool eh, so gutsy eh? lol... lol... Jack a** -  in my head

boss: hmm ...so you write blogs ...can you help me completing two of my pending document then ?

ROTFL..... did one yesterday... more to come in the coming weeks, the "documents"... lol...

So, Note to self:  Beware! Boss is online too!

:P

Damn these Tubelights...!

I have found the answer to a question I have had for along time now.  Why do I, feel sleepy/glazed/dazed/go into a stupor/(as more spiritual folk would call it) go into a transcendental meditative state/(with more pride) go into a reverie every time I am a part of an audience listening to someone teach/take a seminar/lecture???

I found the answer to this today in one of those "I will speak inside my mouth-you try to deduce", "reading-it-from-a-power point presentation", drone sessions (effort appreciated - no offense), while I was slowly and dutifully losing consciousness, time traveling into a stupor-reverie-daydream - that my mind promptly deletes from it's neuron data stack the minute it hits a reality flag on (checked when the drone makes eye contact) - only to briefly nod in feigned understanding, while I had absolutely no idea as to what the drone had been saying till then.

As soon as the Drone turns to another con - most likely - or the "attention-seeker" (one to be found for sure in any and every herd of cattle waiting for their turn at the drone guillotine that refuses to kill but just slowly increases pressure and attacks at your brain) or to that one sincere-savior, my mind jumps into another of those blissful-subconscious state.

Those who have not come across the attention-seeker - either you are really naive or really stupid or you are one of 'that' kind and don't want to accept it - here is what it means:

   "attention-seekers" are the ones that do not really understand what the session is all about but tries to make a point or ask a doubt, that even he/she doesn't understand, and in the end confuses/amuses everyone in the room, managing to a positive feedback from the drone, in most cases.

Now the enlightment achieved through this meditation - the answer to my question - was "TUBELIGHTS".

Every class/session I was in had tube-lights on.  If you remember, they insisted on switching these tube-lights on even in the mornings, back in school and college.  Now!? Now there is no question , in these air conditioned environment that most of us are in for most part of the day... there is no question of not having them on.

Note:  They may be variations too, not just tube-lights but even the CFL versions have that effect on you, really...

PS: Wrote it on one frustrated day in the first or second week of February.  No offense to those who make an effort to take sessions, it's the God damned Tube-lights, see what I mean!?  Even I love taking seminars and sessions so really, no offense... :P

Primate army of the great mythological figure and the Pencil Vs Fountain Pen in the relative lesser gravity of the moon... Now what's the Point?

I was just reading the news about our "Primate army of the great mythological figure that has resurfaced" and that again their leader seems to have a gaping hole in his logic and action.

Earlier a couple of eons back, (According to the Hindu mythological calender) he wanted to check if his wife had slept with this guy - forcefully or not - who had kidnapped her.

This time the Army are behind every girl and guy moral policing.

So back to the point as I was thinking about this I started to analyze the technology options, from what's available and what I am aware of, as to how they would have tested her in the Treta Yug.

1) It is not a simple virginity test.
2) They gotta check the semen sample and see if they match?
3) But not necessarily, semen sample would be available, nor would the Enemy concede for such a test.
4) So they have got a way of testing where they don't need semen samples or genetic proofs.  Hmm...!?

Sounded complicated.

Note:  I almost believe in a different versions (or a similar one here) of God and Mythology (More on it later).


But then it stuck me, hey they just have to check if there had been any recent sexual activity - she's supposed to have been away from her husband for a real long time - just that.  Sounded simple.

Sounded like the Fountain Pen Vs Pencil in the relative lesser gravity of the moon.

I really have no idea what the point of this discussion is! I am sorry.  :(  :P