DON'T GET THE WRONG IDEA, EVEN THOUGH YOU ALREADY HAVE. THOUGHTS FLASH AROUND ONE'S HEAD BILLION TIMES A DAY AND THESE ARE THE ONES THAT SOMEHOW MANAGE TO STICK...
Friday, April 23, 2010
Its been a pleasure
Its been a pleasure quizzing with you Abhinav Saini
May the Old Faithfuls return again to the stage
And this Sunday, lets booze :)
Friday, April 16, 2010
I admit
I admit that i love mountains but I hate motion sickness...
I admit that i love chatting but I hate staying up late...
I admit that i love fear but I fear love...
I admit that i love cricket but I tremble at batting...
I admit that i love girls but I love six packs more...
I admit that i love sleeping but am an insomniatic
I admit that i love chatting but I hate staying up late...
I admit that i love fear but I fear love...
I admit that i love cricket but I tremble at batting...
I admit that i love girls but I love six packs more...
I admit that i love sleeping but am an insomniatic
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Blasphemous Boys hostel
We lie on the edges of our balconies, with our T shirts covered in dirt and plaster of paris as a cigarette passes around in the circle and one strums the strings on the guitar. Our vocal chords gain their heat from the burning after effect of the cheap vodka and as the smoke rises up to the stars, we chant our idols in music. The flame driven eyes of our past rise from below and look at what we have become. Single, feeble, independent and yet without a soul to sell.
The sounds of the midnight birds cast their spells in their almost perfect periodic timings of chants. On the floor lies a bone of chicken mangled and torn, as the predators of yesteryear look at their only piece of nutrition. They have grown tired of chasing cars, hoping that a piece of meat will drop from them. It is not their game anymore, they have resigned and realised. That it is a man's world and an animal's mind they live in.
The sounds of the midnight birds cast their spells in their almost perfect periodic timings of chants. On the floor lies a bone of chicken mangled and torn, as the predators of yesteryear look at their only piece of nutrition. They have grown tired of chasing cars, hoping that a piece of meat will drop from them. It is not their game anymore, they have resigned and realised. That it is a man's world and an animal's mind they live in.
Labels:
Flames to dust,
grief,
Makes me wonder,
Ride the highway west,
Whiskey
A girl I know wrote this once...
Pieces of me
I have left with you some pieces of me
you will find them around hidden beneath
I am comfortable here,
please... do let me be
If you find me in your shower
do not be surprised
I will be fully dressed
if only a little wet
Sometimes you may find me sleeping
all tangled up in your hair
sometimes I'll be sitting on your collar
watching you as you put on your glares
You may find me next to your pen
adding rhymes to your letters
and other times on your morning crossword
finishing up your leftover verbs
I have left with you some pieces of me
scattered around here and there
don't try to gather me up,
I'm comfortable here, please do let me be
I'll be between the pages of your cookbook
noting down a few tips on the edges
you looked really creepy you know
when you burnt off half of your brow
I'll live in your drawers
help you pick out the right shoes
and on top of your dresser
to take a whiff of your perfume
I'll sit on the rim of your glasses
as you read my favorite novel
and kiss you on the tip of your nose
if you have fallen asleep
I have left with you some pieces of me
it is here where I am at peace
I am comfortable here
please...do just let me be
I have left with you some pieces of me
you will find them around hidden beneath
I am comfortable here,
please... do let me be
If you find me in your shower
do not be surprised
I will be fully dressed
if only a little wet
Sometimes you may find me sleeping
all tangled up in your hair
sometimes I'll be sitting on your collar
watching you as you put on your glares
You may find me next to your pen
adding rhymes to your letters
and other times on your morning crossword
finishing up your leftover verbs
I have left with you some pieces of me
scattered around here and there
don't try to gather me up,
I'm comfortable here, please do let me be
I'll be between the pages of your cookbook
noting down a few tips on the edges
you looked really creepy you know
when you burnt off half of your brow
I'll live in your drawers
help you pick out the right shoes
and on top of your dresser
to take a whiff of your perfume
I'll sit on the rim of your glasses
as you read my favorite novel
and kiss you on the tip of your nose
if you have fallen asleep
I have left with you some pieces of me
it is here where I am at peace
I am comfortable here
please...do just let me be
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)