Friday, August 23, 2013

Reams of Rhymes

On News (and why I'm not worldly wise)
News, why are you so dark and cryptic?
Always quoting statistics of death and people sick
All I ask for is an unbiased report, not death and fear
So I could peruse you, and worldly wise I would appear

On Single kids (the ones with no siblings, not those without a boyfriend/ girlfriend)
Single kids, mysteries to me they are
How do they live, without being at war
With siblings, one or even two
Even shows of affection out of the blue
And indulging in food fights too.

My Mind, the Empty Petrol Tank
My mind, the seat of cognition, 'tis blank
Dark, Cold and Empty, like a petrol tank.
I twist and turn for a spark in my head, 
A howling wind I hear instead.

Lizards are weird and awesome 
Lizards, those creepy crawlies
Why do they give me the heebie jeebies?
They're just mini-snakes with legs
Whom I could befriend, after downing a few pegs.

I think that something's just not fine
I've run out of stuff that rhyme
You may have to wait till tomorrow
While I search for a rhyme I could borrow.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The seeds of a Big Dose of Self-Loving

She claims that she doesn't care
She, with the cascade of curly (I say wavy!) hair
Her dimples peep out now and then
Winking and disappearing again
I was too rapt in writing odes to thee
But now I shall pen odes to me
(I shall treat myself to some self loving
Because I'm tired of simply giving).

Monday, August 12, 2013


That feeling when you want something and you're left wanting
When you feel that emptiness, feeding itself, growing
The Demon of Nothingness closes your heart, numbs you
Reducing you to simply a shell, a resounding hollowness sounds within
Eyes looking, but not seeing
Ears hearing, but not listening
Alive, but not living.
Looking for someone to patch up the holes of nothingness
You feel nothing but the dull throb of emptiness
Paralyzed, feeling the worms of despair eating at your soul
Wanting to shred yourself to pieces
Unworthy, flawed, strange, awkward
All these words. chanted by the devils in your mind
Your thoughts, poisoned by hurtful words

Sunday, August 11, 2013


I'll sprout wings and to you I shall fly
To be with you and on your bed lie
But like Icarus, I shan't be
For the sun will be sure to trip me
You are my wings, sweet imagination
My thoughts, my very own creation.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Of Untamed Hair and Children's books

I have an unruly, curly mop of Malayali hair and I'm proud of it. Not exactly proud. I'm okay with it. Which is much better than hating it so much that you wish you weren't a Malayali in the first place. Straightening my hair is always an option, but I don't like the weird texture of artificially straightened poker straight hair. Accepting my crazy untamed hair was my zen moment. Erm, this isn't a post about having freaky Malayali hair and loving yourself crap (maybe a little bit of loving yourself crap)

So I'm uncool. Big deal. I love my uncoolness. Why try to be cool and mask your weirdness? Be yourself. Unless you're an asshole. Then be yourself minus the assholery.

People have different views of what's cool. But I think Calvin is a little gross

And you bore the world when you try to be cool

The Calvin and Hobbes search engine has made my life so much more easier.
Also helps me fill up some space when I have nothing to say.
I don't even know why I'm writing. I think I'd better stop now.

Children's comics and books are so much fun! Truth be told, I don't remember reading any classic children's books as a kid. Oh, I do remember reading a Russian Children's magazine as a kid. It was beautiful and had the most wonderful illustrations. It must have been Misha. I remember my brother borrowing a magazine for me to read when I was sick, and it was Misha. I had found my joy. Good times.

I remember crawling around in diapers, looking at my brother reading a comic book full of bikini babes and bare chested guys on the beach. And I thought to myself, "I want to grow up and be able to read those speech bubbles and know what these pretty people are saying". I grew up, learnt to read and picked up that Archies comic and it was bliss.

I have never (gasp!) read a Dr. Seuss book. I should get some for my nephews and nieces.

There are so many more great books, some of them have escaped my memory and I am feeling too lazy to list them.

This is going to surprise you!
Oh, and I loved this. Made me happy all over and reminded me of my best friend from school.

P.S: I promised to stop somewhere in the middle of my post. But I sort of wandered off. Here's something to make you happy.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Vividness of Black

I revel in the darkness enveloping me
As I gaze at the flirtations of shadows and lights upon the wall
I can hear every raindrop rejoicing on joining its family
My ears; alert to the world moving, breathing and creaking
My senses heightened
I can feel the breeze caress my heels
I'm aware of my bosom heaving up and down
Like the reaction to the touch of a passionate lover
The darkness, it soothes me
Coloring the world around me in shades of black and grey
I lie on my bed, mesmerized by the colors (or the lack of it)
Acutely aware of the vivid painting of the black world around me

Sunday, August 4, 2013

This was not what I intended to write

Today, I'm going to gush about Bear Grylls. Today, I woke up hungry. I had also dreamed of insects. And I began to wonder how would insects taste like. Oh, that reminds me of this:

Oh, and I had seen chocolate covered insects. Here's the place to buy them if you ever feel the urge to munch on chocolate ensconced creepy crawlies. (You'd think they'd include a barf bag. They do not) Do you know what I'd like covered with chocolate? Chocolate. Like chocolate puff pastry. Where the layers of chocolate are slightly separated from each other like the layers of a puff pastry. Then I can dig into it and peel out the layers of chocolate and get my fingers gooey and chocolaty. Messy eating is the best way to eat. Where you can touch your food, caress it, savor it's smell and make love to it in your mouth.

Oh, and Andrew Zimmern. I admire this man. I am a very picky eater. And you know how you feel this sense of admiration for people who are at the opposite end of the spectrum. He can eat anything. And I love the fact that he appreciates different cultures for their unique food. And he's a chef!

I know I was planning to do some Bear Grylls gushing. Some other time, shall we, Bear? Right now, I'm thinking of Andrew Zimmern and sighing a little.