Five things I hate the most.

Should be simple enough, right ?
I can think of a million things I dislike, another million that irritate, annoy or just generally get on my nerves, but things I hate ???

Well number one is courtesy Joey (FRIENDS - ring a bell ?). DONT STEAL MY FOOD. I hate it and if you do it, I will hate you.

Number two - religious politics. Religion is personal, politics is public. Of course if you are a feminist then the personal is political but really, stop with the religious politics - it helps absolutely no one (except the politicians who made a fat load of chillar of the events). But yet, I cannot say this enough - Religious politics is the second most useless thing in the world, the first being psychoanalytic theory of course =p

Number three. - Child Sexual Abuse. (this also includes not giving children sexual education early enough, unnecessarily touchy feely male relatives, creepy teachers and parents who think it wont happen to their kid). Child sexual abuse is a very very real threat that Indians love to pretend is not real. Its a bigger problem than people realise and the sooner they realise the better. Im going to put a full stop here before it turns into a full fledged rant.

Number four - Idiotic people writing books. Im not going to get into the particulars here but who killed the literary agent ??? Getting published was a once a declaration of your worth as a writer, now its more of a look I have money enough to buy me a publisher or lookie I know all the right people in all the right places. Tragic.

Number five - Its a toss up between plagiarising poetry and stupid ideas thunk up by Indian politicians a la' lets ban Savita Bhabhi and Skype (the two most awesomest things on the internet after Harry Potter fan fiction! ).

P and J's Little Apartment Adventures - Chapter 1

Note: I had published this as part of another blog, but with no more chapters to the tale, Ive just incorporated it into this blog.

Don't trust the Weather people.

Its raining condom boxes. No, scratch that. Its raining vibrating condom boxes. And the Weather Girls said it would be raining men. Then again, who ever trusts the weather people anyways? They also never told me it would be raining chairs. Well half a chair, but a chair never the less. It could have killed me. I could have had a brain aneurysm, or a hair line skull fracture. I also watch way too much Grey's Anatomy.

When we took this apartment, little did P and I know what we were letting ourselves in for. A little terrace seemed nice enough. Sure we lost the view we had on the 9th floor but more space was good. Definitely good. Ahh the naivete of youth. It started small. A cigarette butt here, another one there. Every day there were two or three new ones. Its been two months since we moved in, we also don't ever clean the terrace. Do the math. Then a broken pen . Then someone's underwear. Then a bag fell . God was being bountiful and sending our way a whole lotta stuff. A whole lot of stuff we couldnt even use!!!

Then God decided to have some more fun with us. In all his/her glorious irony he/she sent down two boxes of vibrating condoms. Empty boxes. Further reminding us of our sex lives(non-existent) ( Not that thats any of your business anyways). Then today the impossible happened. Well its not impossible since it did happen. Improbable then. It rained half a chair. I mean really if god had sent down a full chair that would have been one more chair for the house, but no. We got half a chair. One more thing that we can't use.

But if someone who lives up on the 9th floor is listening then next time at least send down a full box, a working pen, an entire chair or un used underwear. Would be nice :D And a word of caution. Do Not Trust the Weather Girls. Im still waiting for it to rain men....

Belonging.

I.

Small. Flat. Round.
In the palm of his hand.
I want to be.

Beautiful, luminescent.
Eternal.His.
I want to be.

Salty, wet, cheap.
I roll down your cheek.
I disappear.
Everyday.
I am yours to keep.

II.

I am in love with two men.
I hold on to one
while the other
berates me.
I hold on to the other
when one forsakes me.
One lives in my dreams
the other; my reality
I lie strangled
between two men.
Burnt in the heat
of opposing forces.
My heart is no more
than a whim of two men.

Slow Dancing .

If i could rip open my heart
and show your name
running through my arteries and veins
I would

If i could slit open my throat
and show your essence
passing through to my lungs - my breath
I would

If I could slash my body a thousand times
It still wouldn't compare to the pain I feel
when I see you hurting
when you hurt because of me.

If I gouged out my eyes
Id still see your heart
writhing in agony
bleeding disappointment.

Id hear it shrieking
in an excruciating limbo,
dancing a mad death
with my heart for company

Scarlet

There was blood last night.

It seeped in to my dreams,

Staining my sheets.

I couldn’t stop the blood.

A broken faucet,

Drowning me.

It welled up from inside me.

It flowed all around me.

I draped it across my naked body

Thinking it could save me,

But my gown of scarlet

Betrayed me.

I thrashed in agony

As the silk wound itself around my body

Clinging tighter than second skin,

Enshrouding me

In nightmares

Of scarlet fears .

The bright light of morning

Saw the scarlet fade away.

No evidence

On the pristine sheets,

Only the darkness

Echoing my heart beat.