Insomnia

I can't sleep; I'm inflicted by a strange insomnia. My body feels heavy and taut, like I'm stuck in a cocoon that I can't break out of. But I can move because I'm tossing and turning sans cesse. I'm pleading to my mind to let me have the sweet bliss of sleep but it won't give in to the body which is groaning for some rest, just a moment to recharge...

The C Lounge

I could see the sadness in his eyes as he sat there cracking jokes like he usually does. He's the chirpy one, seemingly immature, yet a source of happiness, light. And lately, the intensity with which his eyes used to shine has diminished. One could confuse that for lack of sleep because he has barely slept but that's not it - he's lost self-respect. He kept repeating "I'm a bastard" last night. I don't mean to discard infidelity so lightly but he did tell her himself, he was sorry. I guess his crime was harder to forgive than a simple fuck; he just kissed her. Poor thing, he can't even blame it on lust. But I can see him suffering. Men can often be pigs but it doesn't mean that they lack feeling. And seeing his pain broke my heart, he who used to shoot out sparks of youthful joy...

Smell on my hand for days
I can't wash away your scent
If I'm a dog, then you're a bitch...
I'm sorry for what I did
I just did what my body told me to do...

Confined

It's weighing me down, this. In the confines of these four walls, trapped. I reminisce about the banks of the Seine but why? It was there that I spent an entire afternoon with myself and the magic the city spun around me.

Sometimes thoughts of eminent disaster can be strangely comforting. It's like the time when in my youth there was a notorious gang that entered peoples' houses in broad daylight, butchered them - sometimes skinning them - and hung them up from the ceiling. We spent many afternoons scaring each other with speculation about where they would strike next. It's a strangely sweet feeling, locked behind the security of doors in a dangerous world.

And then there was that night in Madrid in a club that was slightly bigger than my bedroom. The strangely animal quality of the performers left me in awe. It awoke something in me, something raw, something that filled my body with a sweet happiness. Perhaps that's how we were meant to be, humans.

I'm lacking that now. I've spun a web around myself to keep out the world and sit in solitude. It feels safe, keeping them all out. It's just me and me, like on the banks of the Seine.

Perhaps I am the love of my life 'cuz Paris was as romantic as they say. The narrow alleys of the Jewish quarter where I lined up for the falafel and tried to explain I was looking for a recycling bin for my empty bottle of cheap wine that I'd gotten drunk on. He laughed, he did, when I asked him, and then he tried to calm down my jittery nerves, and finally accepted a phrase in English which he didn't understand either, flirting a little. I sprinted out though and skipped off merrily, perfectly content in my own company. And now I'm thinking of the word caleçon and I have this strangely stupid desire to giggle.

Yes, I've trapped myself in a bubble and I'll get out, I suppose... when I want to.

I'm sorry for what I did
I did what my body told me to

The flight from NYC

Oh, the lies that I've told... and without so much as flinching, without the tiniest pang of guilt. And all on his account. I know I wronged and I've had to pay for it. Dearly. And he has too. And I think it was this brought me to this realization. Et maintenant, je ne suis plus dans la confusion mais il y a aussi la tristesse qui reste quand qqch se termine... Je suis parti de New York à la hâte et je pense que je n'y vais pas... non, mes parents et mes amis ne me permettront pas d'y aller. How could I have forgotten... how could I have overlooked one of my basic beliefs? Nothing in life is for free... you have to pay sooner or later for everything you get. There's a universal balance. I was injust... but he was a fucking maniac too. And I have already paid for my injustice... and then some.

Flying through tunnels at the mouth of New York
Sometimes, I belong here
But it's funny how leaving turns the emptiness up
The hole you'd never heard before

The Other Side Speaks

I did flee so I wouldn't have to face them and I returned to find them still there so I fled once more and I spoke to him... he, who is so taken with me. I told him of my désespoir and he listened, then he said... there's good love out there, just you wait, you wait.

Current Mood...

O Duniya Ke Rakhvale,
Sun dard bhare mere naale
Sun dard bhare mere naale

Ash neerash ke do rangon se duniya tune sajayee
Naiyya sang toofaan banaya, milan ke saath judai
Jaa dekh liya harjayee

Lutt gayee mere pyaar kee nagree
Abb to neer baha le (bhagvan)
ABB TO NEER BAHA LE (BHAGVAN)
Ohhhhh... abb to neer baha le

...
Oh, jeevan apna vaapas lele jeevan dene vaale

With the half-blood prince...

It was truly magick, a gathering of people, children and adults alike wearing cloaks and gowns and pointy hats. They all waited impatiently for the clock to strike midnight. There was a countdown... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... *cheers erupt* I got my copy in 30 min and I spent the next 30 translating the first few pages of the book into assorted languages... I should never become an interpreter or translator. Boy, I suck. The remaining weekend will be spent unravelling the secrets of the half-blood prince!

What is this love?

What is this love that I hear of from every mouth? What is this obsession with love? What is this love that makes our heart beat so, our spine tingle, our body pulse with sensation? What is this love that make who have it gush about it and those who don't scorn it? What is this love that drives us, every one of us, in every culture, in every society, making us dreamy-eyed, giving us a sweet insomnia and a bothersome restlessness, it makes us sing and dance, it gives us hope? What is this love that leads to artistic expression, that touches our hearts, that makes us listen, and gives us desire? What is this love I hear of, this love I hear of from every mouth?

A journal entry

A journal entry from a few weeks ago that explains the situation quite clearly...


In front of me: temptation; at home: fear; in my mind: the eternal doubt. I won't break down and cry like he did on the train the other day. What kind of a human am I for not asking what the problem was? What kind of society do we live in?

But the issue is not him or this train or the society we live in. The issue is me and them. Or perhaps just me... and they just get affected by it. But then don't they affect me? So the issue, I guess, is more intertwined than that. I told him in plain words. I'm getting crazy hours of sleep every night and I still feel drained of energy - classic symptoms of depression. And I know what - who - the cause is.

They can be assured that I will think of them when I make my decision - I can't not. I always have. If not for them, my fate would've been sealed. They represent my roots, my culture, where I come from. And it is a part of me... I am inundated in it. It is intrinsically a part of me. So it's not like I'm trying to escape it.

But my current surroundings do affect me. How can they not? The newspaper glared at me with a new revelation to support the "new" lifestyle: "more than half the Canadians between the ages of 29-59 will never marry." Does marriage - does love - guarantee happiness? In the "old" society, a resounding Yes. Here, I don't know.

But is the ultimate question happiness? I don't think so. It's more about doing the right thing. Neither society makes room for a compromise - both propose their own versions of the right path with no alternatives. What can I do if both of these paths lead in opposite directions? Do I listen to morality or logic?

My dilemma is real and it is only I who can resolve it. And they'll have to deal. They needn't worry though... they will be a big deciding factor. But I need my space to do this. She has to back off or I need to get out. At this point, that is the only solution.


You have to be exposed to a society to fully understand its set of values. As an outsider, if you find it very easy to dismiss the significance of a situation, bear in mind that you're probably using only your own set of values to evaluate it.

Discipline

Are we just beasts that need to be trained through constant discipline? I am a flexible being, I know. I can change my preferences through active campaigning to myself. I used to love Häagen-Dazs, for example, and my mind still thinks it likes it so I might walk into the store and grab one but I usually put it right back because I've trained myself to not enjoy heavy desserts; I am subconsciously aware of the harm they will do.

I usually window-shop anyway but there's nothing wrong with that, is there? Thought vs. Action. So then as long as you know what's morally wrong and what isn't, one can decide on the best action which in my case - I know, I know - usually ends up being inaction. I am indecisive, I've never denied it. My sense of morality has been shaped by the east and west and in some areas, where there's a clear conflict, I have to use the opinion of others to form my ideas of morality. But generally, my spirit does give me some direction; I have the final say!

Let's face it - we don't live in a world where everything is logical. Logic only takes you so far; not everything is finite, deterministic, simple. We are a social species and peer pressure is a reality. If you know you're going to have to live with a certain demographic, you have to shape yourself accordingly. More than that, however, is your inner voice which tells you what's right or wrong. Mine's been constantly on my case. In New York, I overdid it. This is my youth, I can be silly... but how long will it take me to become an adult and face the reality?

La vieillesse

They all swooped down onto our house but no candles were lit this year. Food and drinks were thrown about and the bellies, they jiggled with joy. I greedily bought a big tub of Häagen-Dazs and came home to find out that I wanted none of it. Thin wrists, thighs thinner, I run out of breath in a few seconds if I walk fast. It feels like old age has finally hit me. But clumsiness clings on - the gingerale I dropped all over myself is a testament to that. What does the future hold? I've been told that it's time I settle down, get married. I've held off the pressure but for how long? After all, it is inevitable...

Faint...

I felt like my guts were going to spill out, and then a dulling of the senses... my vision started blurring. Oh my god, I can see nothing. I fell down to my knees, I yelled out for my mother. I collapsed on the floor. I woke up... I was sweating, hands blue and toes blue too. There was much panic and commotion.

London

In my mind, it is *the* big city. I first visited when I was 6 and I kept the stereotypical images of it in my mind: doubledeckers, taxis, phone booths, bobbies, bridges, palaces, the houses of Parliament and Big Ben, churches, etc.

But my love affair with the city didn't begin then. I've been brought up on British literature, on tales of London, the big city, where magic lurks around every corner, the Famous Five did go there, the Naughtiest Girl, the Secret Seven, so did the elves and fairies, the wishing chair flew over it, the Queen lives there, it's the heart of an empire, Diagon Alley and King's Cross Station.

I went back thrice. It was the first city I walked around in completely on my own, I fell in love there, I met my best friend there after 5 years of only letters and phone calls, met up with many friends & family-members, made friends, had the best latté ever, got lost and found my way again.

London, I love you!

Little London night
Shiny pavement, yellow red and white
Oh, that I have seen this

The women and the men
A theatre so thin and danced to death
When do they know they mean it?

A grey light in an English room
My head so full of missing you
You, my lover you.

I am sad

I am sad.

People are fucked up. People who kill others in the name of religion are fucked up. People who kill others under pretence of "goodness" are fucked up. People who kill innocent people are fucked up. And it's part of human nature... I'd like to be hopeful and say it'll end but I don't believe it. We will just end up destroying ourselves in the end.

I miss...

I miss my jeans.
I miss my shirts.
I miss my cellphone charger.
I miss my iPod charger and cable.
I miss my camera USB cable.
I miss my underwear.
I miss my undershirts.
I miss my socks.
I miss my cologne.
I miss all the new clothes I bought.
I miss most my bracelet with my name wood-burnt into it that I bought in Barcelona.
I miss my favourite pullover; I know I will miss it most when the weather gets nippy.
I miss everything, every one of them all.

10 lbs

Who said that being sick can't be a good thing? Every morning, I climb on top of the scale expecting it to go up but seems like it's stuck at the same spot for the past few days. And I'm not complaining. 10 lbs grâce à the strep throat diet.

Still...

Bésame, bésame mucho, como si fuera esta noche la última vez.
Bésame, bésame mucho, que tengo miedo perderte, perderte otra vez.

I can't forget him, I can't forget him, I can't forget him. I think with my illness, I am also going a little senile and perhaps a little obsessive. I was talking to him about how I remembered the scent of his body... he never smelled it but he did tell me that he can still remember the perfumes of the bodies of people he's really cared for and there are only 3 of them.

That night, I'd followed him to the restaurant and we'd spoken. He'd done a lot of the talking, I think I had been too intimidated. And he'd eaten, he'd told me I was sweet, that he would see me Friday and he'd run to a cab without so much as another look in my direction. I think he'd been trying to flee me. Perhaps he too had breathed a sigh of relief when I hadn't shown up the following weekend. I am hopeless.

Calling God

It's interesting how when you hit rock-bottom, for example an illness that breaks your body, you turn back to God. Hello there, I don't feel the need to talk to you when I'm doing okay but now that I'm not doing okay, can you please come and make everything right? I feel phoney...