One puts its arm around the others shoulder
And they walk down the winding road
They reach a bridge
And cry the river full
They search for stones
To weigh themselves down
They talk of Passion and Peace
As long lost friends
They talk of suicide
As a means to an end
They pass moaners
Dole out some tears
And to the loaners
They give new fears
Heavy hearts and glistening eyes
Hollow moans and constant sigh
Not an inch of mercy, not litre of pride
Big green eyes, staring into mine. Catlike agility. Lashes barrel out. Dialation. Where does the red strap lead? Pink toes nailpolish contrast me!
Blink. Blink. Cringe. I fit. Misfit. Playing for keeps. Leap out of the page. Make sense!
When will I go? I think I’m moving on. Would you do it for me? How often have I heard you say you’re bored?
The sound of moving on. Crush paper and wet it till the ink runs down your knuckles. Do me a favour. Tell me which way’s up. I don’t know how to sit!
Hold on. With open arms. It’s time.
Fringe it out. Bang it in. Pin it down. Slash it up. Crash!
Crush it into little balls of fire. Hold it no more. That’s gone. Move on.
Seldom do I feel elated. Can you make sense of the front desk receptionist who can speak only two words of English?
Cos you’re the only one reading this at this moment, I will give you props for reaching this far. I don’t know why I let you in.
I have a profile and everything. I don’t know what I’m afraid of. I’m never coming back. Chill. You’re down. It’ll be alright. The thoughts swim around and chase each other into corners where they swell and explode. So predictable. Big black horse on a cherry tree.
Keep on walking. Reach the end of your wits. Marry me. Night falls on the gentle. Hard luck my friend. This was intended for you. Lightning finds another soulmate. Shouldn’t have done that mate. Wait!
Sign in again. Happy days. What do I do? Ask my assistant. 12.
Minutes away. A little child is born in the home of a millionaire.
She doesn’t care. I quit. Fine. Go catch a duck. Like I give a...
ShineCos that’s what friends do!
They put a coat over their pajamas and take a taxi downtown just to make sure you’re not alone on New Years Eve.
I watched Sex and the City again and it made me miss the first bunch of girlfriends I made in college. I can’t go comparing myself to Carry Bradshaw, but I’d say we had our fun and flaws just like the women in the movie.
It makes me itch to think what the next chapter would have read if we had stayed friends.
It started at Sweet Chariot on tissue paper and ended up in the empty carton for the shredding machine. The Munches disintegrated much like unused tissue in an old cardboard box. I can’t quite point my finger on a day, an event, a person and say ‘That’s what happened.’I guess I blame myself most of the time.
It’s easier to talk about the good times and so I will. Starting with our first sleepover at Shar’s and ending with Wonderla, cos that’s the last time I can remember having fun with you guys.There are still some things only we would GET. Like ‘Bleachers’ or how long it takes to get into ethnic day sarees! We rarely ever talked without throwing in Oshisms, Nuards or the number 74! I think I may still have some of our ‘witty banter’ text msgs saved in some old diary.
I didn’t mean to make this a nostalgic rant wrapped in guilt but that’s probably what it is. I don’t know if it’s my loneliness or joblessness which is prompting me to walk down this road but I’m kinda glad I did.
Thanks for all the good times. It’s impossible to forget the richness you brought into my college life and whether it was Awing over PK or cursing Abhaya, I’ll always remember how each of you let me be me. Mwah! And Good Night!
