That funny thing called Love

What eet ees?
Diagonised by Adam and Eve, it was/is found to be one of the most dangerous thing to be caught on. Extremely contagious than madras eye. Cos even madras eye needs some prolonged stares, while love at even the slightest glance of the opposite sex, sends electrical circuits, goosebumps and sets off complicated chemical reactions. All this at first sight. *sigh*
With repeated meetings, a certain butterfly starts fluttering wildly in the stomach stimulating high blood pressures, a flurried hour everyday morning trying to look good and attempts at looking oh-so-cool-i-never-get-tensed in front of the afore mentioned opp sex while feeling otherwise.
Further followed by stammering and stuttering of speech called the 'kekalama/kekkakoodadha' syndrome. One can discover quite a number of monosyllables during this period, some are even accepted by scrabble.
Course, after this there are only two stages like cricket. You are either in or out. If you are out, the next batsman enters and tries his hand at the scores. Either ways all of em are bowled over.
A person passing this stage can be named Incurable=Hopeless= *tsk* *tsk*. God save the King and him/her. Because this is when we see the extremeties. Going going gone. Poyepochu.

Dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dum...

And entertainment starts for us. They dont need any FarhaKhan or Michael Jackson. They dont need PrabhuDeva, just hide behind any curtain or door, they will do moonwalk and somersaults in the air. And they dont need TR's too, cos all their lines would rhyme and have a ringtone to it. Look at their face and you will catch that stupid smile and a faraway look. You can actually get a laugh for the worst of PJ's. More dreamy looks, more silly smiles. To catch their attention, the wonly way is to mention their louly lovers name at the start and the end of the sentence. Like in war they said, *Roger* Situation Terminated*Roger/Over* or whatever.. No wonder they said, all is fair in love and war.
And ofcourse, our own indian cinema has dissected, scrutinised and xrayed all dimensions for the most obvious symptoms. Hungry but no eatings, Drowsy but no sleepings, and more such.
Then starts late night phone conversations. Inflation goes up. So does phone bills. Top up cards, Unlimited sms and dedicating caller tunes.. no wonder our countries economy (n these lover's father who pays for the bills) are booming.
And secret meetings. This is when, poor creatures like me are resorted to. 'I'm supposed to be with you, but X and myself are going to that movie you recommended and then we are going to dinner to that restaurant you mentioned. Dont call my place, ok?'*Ahem* Thankyou peoples to be of service for your vandavalams and thandavalams :)

These people are not rude. Cant you see, they cant help it. They are just madly deeply in love.

No, love, doesnt stop with one yellow and pink flower being shaken in front of screen, or naked models/painting from closeup to blur, or one umbrella being opened and hiding the lovers..
Its a mega serial, serial killer at that, it strikes one and all. Sending feverish shivers and tinglings and chills in the hottest summers and rising to uncountable high temperatures and pressures and with never-ending dreams and thoughts about the other half.

And the most wonderful thing about this disease, is experiencing it.

This post is a dedication to all the couples I know n love, Shaffu n Fur, Swe n Vj, San n Apar(who confessed recently!), Pre n Vin, Bhu n Yog, Raji n Sak, Go n Anu, Pap n Jaya,

.. hope there is never a fullstop.

One addiction that I definitely recommend :)

Dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dara mast mast dara dum dara dum dum dum tere bin kya jeena.
Tere bina beswaadi beswaadi raathiya..o sajna!

Jaage hain

Jaage hain der tak hamenh
kuch der sone do
thodi se raat aur hai
subah to hone do
aadhe adhure khwaab jo
pure na ho sake
ek baar phir se neend mein
woh khwaab bone do

An inner vein, tugs hard and deep and heavy and chokes, stimulating an effervescence of unknown fatigue, that embraces all over, and makes me pause from the running, from the speed, from the travel, from life. Afterall am only a speck in the universe, acting a written part. Heavy and tired, let Him loosen my puppet strings a little bit such that I can lean on your shoulder just this once and rest my burden, cry silently listening to your euphony of unknown tales of love while my inner strength grows. Let me be the withered leaf that lulls gently to the wind. Let me sleep, while I revel in this blind dream, relive bliss.

Lost Part II- Timeless

As time weeds through
the frames of that broken window
rearing dead flowers of past
and wild leaves of sorrow

Emptiness spills
evoking unwanted familiarity
of once trodden path
rendering more guilt than pity

Hope is yet another story
another unfinished dream
another not-reachable ripe grape
while fate plans another scheme

I picked an apple
on the way,
hungry I bit
Nay, it was made of clay

Betrayed by own thoughts
cursed by a craving mind
for impossibilities
for love and such kind?

They accused me
of being Eve,
while the serpent escaped
I stood there decieved

Faith fails, heaves more.

(read Part I here)

Absolut Peace

Time is speeding away. Its already november. And for the past two weeks have been one helluva a marathon from research research and more research at the workplace. And when that happens, you dont get time to think. Only act. Your mind is scheduled to various alarms and you start your work mechanically, meeting deadlines and submitting reports. . And when you love what you do, it is even better. I am findng myself a little better organised, which is actually surprising, considering that I was the sibling who used to mess up every room after my sis cleans it. I still remember the times, when my sis used to take hours to clean up her shelf, the room, the loft, the fan n what not, and after all that, I would be given the responsibility to clean up just my book shelf. I used to detest the very concept of cleaning. In my school days, if my sis asked me for a book/pen or anything, my answer would immediately point her to this incorrigible mess. Everytime, it would be necessary to shovel out odds and ends, to sometimes even get to the floor. And if I needed a dupatta or say something as small like a kerchief/belt it'd take a whole hour just to even recollect where it is and another whole hour to find it. And my sis, darling one, used to clean my stuff too to make it look neat. Tornado. Thats what I was. Cos the next day it'd return to same state whatsoever. I was always the messy one. Always.
It just happened suddenly one day. I just decided I did not want to live like that, and I changed. I've always felt that I have a very good instinct about everything. People. Clothes. Stuffs. It takes me few minutes to know when I spend time with them/it, whether I want to be with them/it.
I just finished my swim. Something that always soothes me. I feel content. I am content. And at peace. I had a hate list (people who really depressed me) before. Somehow, now, all that doesnt seem to matter at all. Today I am doing what I like. It might not be the same that I want to do tomorrow, and god I hope, that I get to do whatever I want tomorrow.
I am lucky, for what I have now. Aint I? I 've actually no complaints about life, right now. Wow, I just realised that! *sigh* Feels like a burden is been taken off. You know, like you rub off the fog that forms over the window shield while you're driving.
I dont think I've missed out on things in life. I had a good group of school friends, whom I catch up with every now and then. College life helped me in sorting out my career. Some things in life could have better, but I am glad that it happened the way it did. It helped me be.
I dont want to lose this moment. I want to remember it crystal clear. And I am posting this, so that I read it if I get mind-fucked in the future.

So you think that this is the last pint that is left in the Beer botte? Look around. There are new ones still unopened. And few more still brewing. There is nothing called the last shot! :)