opium..

bizarre is the word, fickle my mood
i've had enough, let me get in the groove
i'm quiescent, no life, i'm without a soul
i'm afraid you suck in your goddamn role.
you took away my voice and gave no cue
why cant you see that i'm not you?
i'm shackled, its dark, the pain has seeped into my veins
it doesnt hurt anymore, am i human or just numb and insane?
silenced and threatened, rubbished and provoked
i wonder were you ever my own..
i'm lost, i'm dying, i cant open my eyes
period. you couldnt estrange my love of light.
loosen your grip and set me free
let me learn, survive not flee
a night, a dream, i'll be on my own
opium, it works....and i carry on....

My friends: memorable histrionics part 4: You Suck More Than I Do

Now the person I’m taking the pains for doesn’t actually give a fuck whether I immortalize our friendship by writing this or not. She’s too lethargic to move her ass and turn on her machine to oblige me by reading this. Haven’t I always kept such ‘good-for-nothing’ people at bay, maintaining an arm’s distance whenever they are around? Haven’t I always refrained from turning such a flippant into a friend? So what am I doing, sitting here, reminiscing all the moments I’ve been ‘forced’ to spend with her due to the absence of a worthy accomplice? Wasting time, huh? Yeah...Probably. ‘Cause this great friend of mine won’t even have the courtesy to thank me. Thank me, not for putting this piece up here and talking of her in high esteem but for flashing her ‘unprecedented endeavors‘on my blog and being the first jerk to acknowledge that she really exists. She doesn’t care if its apocalypse, she won’t give a damn if the earth is taken over by aliens. You may be dying, alone and thirsty in a desert and she’ll not care enough to….Oh! wait a second…..she’ll definitely ‘message’ you to tell you that Rooney scored yet another goal or that Chelsea won 2-0 for the umpteenth time. All our attempts to find her a suitable ‘match’ keep failing every now and then. Her hormones just don’t shoot up no matter how hot a man is but her name can be found written in golden letters in every second guy’s good books. And the girls don’t feel the J of jealous. Stupid as they are, the girls or the boys, I aint the least interested. From holding a senior by his collar and bullying him to approaching the hottest girlie on the campus and telling her that she looks so masculine, from stealing the ‘jobs’ in the workshop to slapping a guy hard enough to jolt him out of his sleep , I’ve done it all in her ‘much revered’ company. I’m her partner in crime each time she gets the urge to wake up from her ‘boring’ life and spice it up with something out of the blue. I swore myself out of innocence the day destiny brought us together. Poor me! I just don’t know if I should thank god enough or curse my stars, being the good girl that I am. And as this ‘unwanted’ memoir gets too long for me to handle, let me cut the crap with the only line that holds some significance “Hasleen, You suck more than I do”.

fake it till it gets real...

it's just another morning
dawn of yet another ordeal
the day wont give you a reason to smile
and you fake it till it gets real.

the noise makes you go deaf
and you wonder whats the deal.
a void left by love which eloped
and you fake it till it gets real.

the food just doesnt let you breathe easy
'cause emotions were thrown behind a veil.
not where you belong, you search for hope
and you fake it till it gets real.

you reach a valley, so still and serene
a place, you thought, your wounds will heal.
no sun, a mere glimpse of light
and you fake it till it gets real.

you're tired, you stop, the night has prevailed
a broken heart, you lost again.
it's dark, no zeal, what's left to feel?
and you fake it till it gets real.

My friends: memorable histrionics part 3: looking into a mirror

The term ‘histrionic’ doesn’t actually describe my relationship with her. And if I look for one, I cant think of any such term which will neither be bombastic nor too subtle to fit in. she wasn’t there when I was learning my alphabets, she wasn’t there when I was carving out a niche for myself, she wasn’t there when I had my first crush nor was she there when life brought me back to square one. But now when I turn around, she seems to be everywhere, in each moment down the memory lane, a part of my every day, good or bad. Our getting together, in my opinion, was absolute chance. Honestly, there was nothing about her then which had impressed me to get closer to her. I almost loathed the people she used to hang out with and I was quite happy in the company of those around me. And here I am, completely mesmerized and awestruck by the magnetism of her character. I haven’t come across anyone, over the years, who not only has a beautiful heart and soul but an equally enigmatic aura around her. She might not drop a bomb with her looks but ignoring her just isn’t possible. And even if u turn your back on her, she’ll appear right in front of you only to let you have the privilege of seeing her. The bond that we share hasn’t been through crests and troughs literally, it is still as strong as one can get, though morphologically it keeps assuming different hues with time. I might not see her each time I want to, she might not be there each time I want her to console me and she even might not be there each time I am in dire need of her precious advises but she is always at my beck and call whenever I need her, whenever I want to share with her all the silly things I did. From the guy who threw friendly glances to the lovely dress I window-shopped, from the happy times I spend even in her absence to the troubled times I don’t even want to remember, she knows me inside-out. I think this is what is called symbiosis. Hey, seems I have finally found the word I was looking for.

My friends: memorable histrionics part 2: Lesbian Instinct

Now i aint a Lesbian, in no damn way. I’m straight, absolutely straight. Crooked in some weird mental and anatomical possibilities , naughty in all imaginable dimensions, loud when accompanied by anyone and everyone, talkative in the vicinity of familiarity, reclusive sitting in the midst of hypocrites and reticent in a party of gibberish-encouraging souls. Then what makes me love her so much? I wonder. Her face, her voice, her persona, a sheer thought of hers, the way she understands me, the way she exercises her tele-kinetics or her simple sweet smile, all make me fall in love with her. She was there when I used to fight over a pencil or a pen, she was there when I was looking for a friend, she was there when I was looking for happiness, she was there when I was looking for a soul mate and now when I am looking for myself, she is still there. So what kept me from discovering her every single moment that I spent with her? Each time when she did actually say “I’m there”? Was it a big mistake? I’m afraid it wasn’t. Did I miss something I shouldn’t have? yes, a lot. I guess its been an integral part of my, or rather, our growing up together. She told me that I’m the best a man can ask for. she even told me that she would have married me had either of us been a boy. I still remember our policy of unflinching determination, a policy of not budging from our stands. “Why will we change for him, he’ll have to change for us”. So now when I hold her hand in gratitude, why do they raise an eyebrow in suspicion? Why do they smell something fishy when I tell her that she is my sweetheart, that I love her. Earnestly I enjoy every bit of it, each time we lock ourselves and make those obscene sounds behind the door and all those ‘oh-my-gods’ and ‘hauhs’ amuse me to the hilt. But this is not what it is all about. This is about trust, this is about companionship, about faith and a sense of belongingness. A mutual belief that no matter what the world comes to, no matter what they say or do, this bond will not crumble, it won’t succumb to dark and hazy times and stone-wall against all odds. After all that we’ve been through together, I’m so glad I can call you my better-half.

i love Blue...

this is an ode to my favourite color Blue. initially while preparing the 'blueprint' in my mind i had not much to think of but when i actually sat and started writing this stuff, the door to the World of Blue miraculously opened to me. and this is what i learnt...everything that Blue stands for.


She embodies the divine, she swims in the Nile
her cheerland, from here, is just another mile
Nilgiri is her home, she exists in the rain
when black and blue, she'll put you through pain
Zeus is her companion, she lives in the blue skies
she's a mystery, she's deep, she stands for height
she's Radha's Krishna, she's Dante's Devil
she personifies hell, the hue of peril
she symbolises infinity, she's the color of magic
she's cold, she's winter, she's sad and tragic
she abets honesty, the way she croons
she'll sing you the Blues, you can see her in the moon
she epitomises the oceans, she reflects the truth
calm and serene, i call her Blue....

my friends: memorable histrionics part 1: Under Your Imaginary Umbrella....

it isnt a cold grey day as i sit here alone on my roof-top. the slow cool breeze makes me feel its presence though it isnt as chilly and dreaded as before. "22 degrees celsius", the radio echoed as if the radio jockey had been reading my thoughts all this while. now thats quite an improvement in the mercury level. so the day isnt far when i would lock away all my sweaters in the closet and feel light again.

And as i think of summers, i suddenly feel four years younger. seems yesterday when we had been sweating profusely on our way to the tuition after school. the sun shone fiercely at its best up in the sky and all we could ask for was some relief from the scorching heat.
i was grumbling and cribbing at my decision to attend tuitions directly after seven grilling school-hours when, out of the blue you, my friend asked me to imagine an umbrella over my head. "so what if we dont really have it, we surely can make-believe one to be", you said. i laughed at you and told myself "now she's one big moron" but then i realised i had actually liked your idea. moreover what could i have really done before your Leon wishes. i think it was the first time i realised the essence of imagination in one's life. so there we were, the three of us, walking on the road, holding our respective umbrellas and singing Euphoria's Dhoom on top of our voices, paying little attention to the unfriendly glances being thrown upon us. Gosh! that was the bestest day i have ever spent with you. the lesson you taught me wasnt a one straight out of my moral science book but it definitely was a one i ll keep for the rest of my life.

so as i sit here alone, i can imagine the two of you sitting beside me, irritating and getting onto my nerves, as you always do. it might be later than sooner but....."thanks, my friend. you've been more than what i had asked for. love you".

your world....

I had a lot of people in mind when I wrote this piece. Interestingly, I’ve always believed that people who find faults with others and people who mock at others are a breed of insecure individuals, who lack a foundation. And here I am, disapproving of somebody’s entire way of life. So does that make me insecure and weak???

YOUR WORLD…..

The door was open, the lights were bright
flashy clothes and plastic smiles
You hollered high and lent me a hand
"Are u scared?", "why would be I?"
neon sky, the spirits just soared
deafening noise, the elixir you poured.
no hold-back's, just laid-back's
no thank you's, just fuck-off's
sans sorrow, sans thoughts
sheer illusions you've bought.
you talk of your game, you talk of your world
Come on now, atleast hold your tongue.
you fancy the stars, you mock your own god
dare i interrupt....nah, you cant applaud.
the blood is so real, your heart a fake
you're blind! you just cant see what you've made...
made of yourself, made of your life
"Is this the place where you're living tonight?"
you think its pure magic, you call it a wonder
"see through my eyes".....your aimless soul that wanders.
come, take my hand and give me a chance
to lead you home and wake you to life
to take you where i celebrate light
it aint no maze of moments of plight
a place where lives merge into one
a place of holy aura of the sun
a place that will embrace you and your deeds
"so are you afraid?", you ought not to be...