How do you say you are sorry to one that you love you deeply?

{ November 12, 2009 @ 5:54 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Almost been 2 years since I last saw her (in the flesh).

Her memories return, if not by the minute then by the hour. In fact they have never left. Not a single day has passed by without her creeping into my thoughts; sometimes she’s smiling, sometimes she is joking, sometimes she is mocking and laughing but mostly I recall the image of her crying and rightfully accusing me of making her life miserable.

Truth: I did, but the moment the tears started rolling down her cheeks, I realized, held her, begged her for fogiveness. She did, at least I think She did.

Fool I was am. I did her wrong.

I moved away, literally and geographically.

Today, I chanced upon some pictures of her while we were Skyping. I tasted salt.

I want to say sorry, I am not wishing her back, but I would just want to tell her how sorry and miserable I was. To her, to me and what could have been something else.

The pictures still keep playing but the music that plays along with it is wrong. There are sobs and sniffles that can be heard which are, for once, not her’s but mine.

I am sorry.

lurhve ishtory (love story)

{ May 2, 2009 @ 9:01 pm } · { Drink up }
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love songs are easy to write

all you got to do is find the person right

what happens when the person is wrong

can you still write a love song?

women, be her single, hitched or married

is a force that can leave you shaken if not stirred

flowers chocolates diamond rings

she will gladly accept but never sing

you talk you tell, you profess

you cry, you beg and confess

her heart where your love was born

is now all dry and torn, an orphan

drench yourself in wine

it’s all that you can do to make your poor ticker fine

you wish your heart was like hers

because you know you cant live without hers

this poem is kinda lame

wrote this for love not for fame

oh shattup. boohoo

Quixote

{ August 12, 2008 @ 6:00 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Quixote at least knew what he was, a knight in, if not, shining armour. His intentions were right.

And then there is me (us) who put on the armour and go in search of saving damsels in distress. We do.

Something happens, the knight who was supposed to save, saves and then turns predator.

Is it possible that Quixote could have been bitten by the dreaded bug insecurity? Or is it a curse to the impersonators?

what women know…

{ May 2, 2008 @ 8:51 pm } · { Hell }
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How come she knows everything? They know what I should wear, what I should eat, drink; come to think about it I am pretty darned sure that there has been a mention, you know the nudge nudge wink wink, of what, who and where I should open my mouth. Don’t get me started on what she thinks about what and how I should feel (ok, am talking to self here but hey don’t be too quick to judge, it’s happened to you too and if you say no then you know who you are, a liar)

The “she” here is not just the woman I am with now but I the women (non-familial) whom I have have the remotest of contact with, be it a woman I fell hard and deep (and god knows into what), had a crush on, just been friends, you know the different scenarios possible, right?

But seriously! A casual remark or a slight mention of things, and the woman lying next to me, stark naked, still looking for a tissue, can think of the other women that she knows that I would be perfect for!

OK! I must be too afraid to dive deep or maybe she has enough depth that a sequel to “The Deep” was planned and promptly dropped after the producer explored this one’s depth?!

Coming back to the poor referrals (I mean poor emphatically) doesn’t that  make you think that the woman I was with hated the women that she mentioned were right for me? Some school or college envy that fits perfectly with their vengeance for me?

Or could she be just faking it?

Is it what women know, or is it what woman want?

…when pigs fly

{ May 2, 2008 @ 10:44 am } · { Hell no! }
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Dunno if the Pig flew when Waters played here.

On a different note, have you ever met an oddly enough writer? The kicks the writers must be getting,  fun place to work,  no?

pull the plug on the pug {ad}

{ May 2, 2008 @ 10:33 am } · { Ads, Hell yeah! }
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i hope this lawsuit will help get rid of the commercial, it’s been getting onto everyones nerves.

Note to self: rant about this ad later

The draw

{ May 2, 2008 @ 6:30 am } · { Hell no! }
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One hand cupped over the other, the thumb slowly moves and lifts the edge of the first card. Heart. King of Hearts!

Emotions. The second card is Queen of Hearts!

All in. This had to be it. He saw and played what seemed good, no suit, low sequence cards, heck combos. But this was a first, 2 high cards, and suited! All in, he slowly muttered to himself.

The hands he was dealt and the ones he dared play never paid up.

Barney’s greatest hits.

i wish i knew

{ May 2, 2008 @ 4:04 am } · { blah to the power of 3 }
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What’s creativity all about? Where do new ideas come from? How do

inventors come up with new inventions? Is necessity really the mother
of all inventions? Or is the desire of a single individual to come up
with something no one has ever thought so strong to get it done?

Ideas come to me with little effort. I never really gave it a thought
how and why they do. Be it ideas to make a party interesting or a list
of wedding activities more easier to control; ideas for scripts or
ideas to make a website more user friendly. I am not sure how and why
but I am sure that I would want to know the how and why.

Right now, I have an idea…

etchy ads

{ September 8, 2007 @ 11:21 am } · { Ads, Hell yeah! }
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Theres this new mail ad thats showing on tele now. It has people leaving whatever they are doing and running out on the streets with an envelope in their hands, screaming with (what i think is) joy. I didnt get the ad till I saw the geek starts yelping and joins the rushhour. Anyway, fuck that, my whole point is, did you see the tits on the woman in the end in the salwar and the way they moved, up and down, I just couldnt take my eyes off!

And there’s this other, some candy, where this Japenese tourist finds an indigenous ATM in the middle of a jungle. Hilarious shit. Cant recall the product though.

La Mancha

Stranded

{ January 21, 2007 @ 9:40 pm } · { Hell no!, blah to the power of 3 }
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I remember reading a book about passengers at an airport (JFK, if my memory serves me right) who are caught in a terrible snowstorm and are cut off from the rest of the city/world. Something in my brains say’s it was an Indian author. Not Tharoor…. or is it? Lemme find that out.

P.S: Might be routed through London now.

La Mancha

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