It's on Loop.

I'm so lost that it's wonderful and not asking to be found.

Lost like

Songs on loop about the sea and and finding the stairway to higher hopes.
Finding a way to the ocean after wanting it for a year.
Air travelling into one ear and out another one.
Burrowing into comfort.
A lot of chai all at once.
A really long movie that felt less like a speech and more like a lyric.
People appearing like a cloud of smoke and dis-apparating right before brain freeze.
A line of books ready to be drank into skin,lined up on a clean shelf.
Consumerism over comedy.
Foolish frivolous talk without the alcohol kick.
Headphones is ignorance is bliss.
Treetops over very deep blue brightening skies.
Eyeball seeking dark room in bright house windows closed.
Writing today because inkpot is brimming.

So lost that I dont ask you to find me with a blissful smile.

Six words speak so sense

Feet in socks
Winter bite unheard.



Recently joined a group called Six-Word stories on DA.
Its a great exercise to get me writing more, and value the skill it takes to express more in less. Namely, writing a story in 6-words.
Stay tooned.

Classic December.

If you're from around my campus, you might recognise the title as the theme for this month's Film Club screenings.
It's also apt for my mood of the month.
I was looking through a senior's blog, and discovered what it was like to feel inspired and let-down at the same time. I think to myself:Girl, start working. Forsake the idea that your coursework is draining/de-inspiring, and start imagining the exciting. The nouveau. The ideas you used to have that would have you frantically grope around for a pen, only to scribble a barely decipherible thought for later reference.
It's interesting how my state of mind can affect so much.

This is a classic December, with a wee bit too much of the December doldrums thrown into it.Maybe Im worn out from feeling too much and too little and trying to forget all those little cuts and scratches from a black t-shirt that lies beside my pillow....
I've stopped feeling as enthusiastic and charged up about 'things' like earlier. You know,Things.
Strange feelings, interesting people, new music.
Coming across a book in the KMC about ancient oceanic art.
Shooting the extraordinary Thangka paintings at Bailakuppe.
Sitting at Chai Gate- an official addict- and just looking at people,smiling inside all the while.
Stopping after 3 pages of a book and going back to read a line that suddenly made too much sense.
Laughing when iTunes opens a Portishead song from shared folder, bringing back memories of cackling girls and dim lights and 3am scrambled eggs in 12th std.
Going over and over the thought that Sekhar had put forth in August -"..this will make you a better storyteller.I am sure of it."
And then theres that greenish light filtering through the studio's thick, rippled glass panes.
And going by the brilliantly twinkling rich reds, virulent greens, burnt yellows, rani pinks so fast that they shriek like cloistering,glittering, colourful stars.Your eyes burn. Thats Law Garden, from a speeding auto. A distant roar of hawkers shoppers corn-eaters honking autos.

My plane will touch Bangalores concrete shores on friday evening. And I'll speed down the highway, that long winding road of blur and splattered watercolour trees in twilight.

And the skies will be purple and orange and dying yellows, because thats how the road from Mysore to Bangalore always looks.

And I'll laugh when Ma calls me morbid and hugs me, and my sister grumbles because I always steal the pillow, and the driver Deva grunts because that still-faced daughter is back and will demand the windows to be kept down so she can hang her hand outside to feel the window whip it turbulently.

Didnt you know that your hand could get cut off that way?
I always have.

But they still are glad that Im home, and the sun will set differently every evening for me.

returns,reminsces.

This is it.
I return tomorrow,
to the city of walls.
many threads left knotted and
still others wrapped up.
I cried my heart out and
slowly pulled it back together.
found some stones amidst the shards of glass.
Theyd reflected off the newfound-sungod which was left in.
laughed,accidently.
then god said it was good,so I laughed some more.

its still happening.

a long way to go,
and Im leaving on a jet plane!

dust smoke blurry eyes dark ledges off which you stare into the lawns
and attain enlightenment.

at 5am,in september.
wake me up when it ends,
for Im happy and Im alive and Im leaving tomorrow to NevereverherenowLand
and relief trepidition excitement familiarity is crowding my senses.