Sunday, August 20, 2006

the circus has come to town

Pan sits on the floor with outstretched legs; his back to the bathroom door. Staring drunkenly at Dee as she strategically, almost perfectly, places herself onto his lap. She takes the shadow off his face that cast over him while they were talking about someone he didn’t really want to discuss. Her finger drags in the opposite direction of the stubble growing on his chin, leaving fingerprints on his nose, his cheek, and his half-closed eyes before dragging it back to his lips where she gives him a tongue-less, over-whelming kiss. Pan sighs in humble disbelief.


There are no photos anywhere, Boo grumbles to herself as she paces the house in a reckless fervor at an ungodly hour. She has lost herself in a world that she hates, whispering empty promises to herself that she will survive. Boo puffs at the glass pipe she’s been toying with. It is almost revolting, her only escape. She makes a face no one can see because it is dark. It is always dark.


Em walks a lot. Most of the time aimlessly, or because he must do what he does for there is nothing else to do.Ah, here we are. The busiest street in all of London. Where no one looks at anyone and people are a part of the ever-growing madness.Em stops; just for a second; just to feel himself breathing. No one stops with him. They will swerve left or right to avoid collision. It is almost unbelievable to him that the grey skies here never end...



Deeb rubs his red eyes. He cannot understand why he goes in and out of these phases. And it was too late to change the habit that had now become his second nature. He tries to snap back, to listen to the on-going conversation carried out by the people he likes. Supposedly likes. Maybe it’s the allergy acting up again.Deeb inhales a ridiculously large amount of sheesha.He hears the conversation turning towards him, as always. His lack of interest. His silence. And of course, the blackness. He shakes his head and takes another swig. Calm nerves? You wish.



‘No, no, I don’t know,’Ik replies to his ever-persistent mother. There was no reason, there were never any reasons. Its just the way he was moulded, not even by himself maybe.Ik hears her going on in the background, about so many things he’s always refused to deal with. He picks up his mahogany drumsticks, plugs in invisible headphones, and beats away into the night air.



Eha sits. And sits. She twiddles her thumbs till they bore her and she wonders why we have thumbs anyway.See, that is the problem with alone time. You have too much time for yourself. Good thing she has much that needs to be sorted out. Like her father’s angio that may or may not save him. The sudden cold shoulder by her would-be fiancé, and his knack for ignoring what she would like to call dreams of a better future.Indeed, there was much to think about.


Riza can hear the people in the next room going at it with full force. He sighs to himself, covering his head with a thin pillow. He lies wide awake under it, thinking about the only thing he thinks about all the time. In bars, classrooms, in the dead of the nights. He pulls out the letter, the picture, and every single fragment he has of her in his mind.Riza lets himself drown in a morbid elusion while someone next door screams in painful ecstacy.’Oh God…,’he covers his face with his empty hands.


It’s true that Sham avoided every possible discussion that lead her into think that she’s been building herself shattered dreams all the while she was married. Life now consisted of all work, and almost no play. There was nothing to play with anymore. The kids had grown into better or worse versions of herself and were living what they’d like to call a life. Another anniversary goes by unwished. Sham continues her chant on prayer beads.


And at precisely 12:01am, they all hear it…an explosion. Almost as if pulled by invisible string, they rush to look upwards into the sky. The sudden burst of orange, red and blue leaves them in awe. A quiet repose. The sight of it is all the assurance they need…all the assurance they could ever possibly get. The circus has come to town to take away the darkness of the graveyard.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

what is love?

Twin Cinéma- says:
see. you talk to me and you cant think. there's never time to think. now, thats love=D








aaaahahahahahaahahahahahahhahahaha.silly moe=)

Saturday, August 12, 2006

hello sunshine,
come into my life.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

conflict

anum- like a rolling stone says:
your looks are laughable, unphotographical
anum- like a rolling stone says:
yet you are my favourite work of art

Sunday, August 06, 2006

everything's going to change.I knew because I looked at my side profile and noticed it was already happening.I think I'm doomed,but I've been told I'm a miracle child,and that God took it upon Himself to pave paths for me to walk on.So I dunno...I guess I can live on hope and not fizzle out completely.I don't even know what to feel really.Scared,cautious,doubtful.All those things.The side of my body still hurts after the operation.That was another sign that things have changed.I will never be able to act.No one likes scarred people.


tractor ki ek light jal rahi thi.pakistan zindabad.


The realization that I'm leaving the best part of me behind made me cling to her more.I just wouldn't let go of her dupatta in liberty today,like I used to do when I was a kid in big stores where gori aunties wore pink lipstick with blue jackets.

I want to pack her in my duffel bag,to help me go through with this inane decision of mine.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

pink bathrooms

'man.we've done night-spending scenarios a lot.and like,we hang out in general too.why don't we get high?'
'i do.you're just a fuck'
haan theek hai yaar i slept early.but i'm always listening to what you guys are talking about.like woh kaun thi who was singing 'iris' on buzz's radio?i mean,WHO?she was so horrible.and i felt your ass when you sat on me chugs,hell anyone would feel that.and mein ne jaan ke chaadar zyada le li thi buahahaha.*burp*.and ur such a fuck man.telling me i'm a deranged somalian sitting on the kitchen floor when you KNEW i had the better cornetto,and you joined me later anyhoo.linda blair darr gayi thi tumse raat ko HAHAHAHA.
so i really liked the fettucini alfredo in royal palm.and we WILL go back raat ko sometime,with someone else's membership card,steal the golf cart and make out kisi random darakht ke neechay.wahan ke darakht kafi baray hotay hain.
chuggi's ass's name is big bird everyone.it talks back.and YES YOU ARE A PSEUDO-LESBIAN YOU,AND DEATH BE TO NICOLE MERI SAUTAN.
those cornflakes were so good.i could feel them in my throat even after i came home and talked to mom and cried and cried and my lush smelling,newly-washed hair stuck to the wooden table.i smelled the table later on too,just to check.aur jo mein ne chuggi ke ghar se milo churaye thay,meray kuttay bhai ne meri absence mein khatam kar diyay.
its not pleasant talking about sex with...weird people.well,not weird weird,but uncomfortable weird.i consider myself rather ignorant when it comes to sex and the pleasure of it,and i assume that the man i shall 'do it' with will know exactly what to do and i will just sit in a corner later on when he's sleeping and giggle.buss.i dont want to know about foreplay,or the stages/bases,or the..whatever else there is.G SPOTS WHICH ARE NOT BEHIND THE EAR CHUGGI.hadd hoti hai yaar.
i will practice raag someday.try and sing like farida khanum or that fabric wali bandi.

fooki sits on my lap to use the computer cuz i wont get off.i hug him from behind just because and i put my ear on his back to listen to his big heart in his little body.he is working out now and swimming and footballing.he is a big boy now,an unshaven,ugly-looking big boy,who wears his heart on his sleeve for the world to see.i put on 'ek ajnabi (STRANGA,DANGAAA) while he is on his phone to piss him off.it works=).what does 'choot ka toka' mean anyway?he speaks to me sometimes in a language i dont understand,and yet i do and its weird but i guess thats how it works with me and him.he's my invisible best friend and i think i will name him conch.aahahahahahha.just stuff fooki.just stuff.



acha i dont know how fooki relates to pink bathrooms,but its all relative=)



(CHUGGI PAITOOOOOOOOOO=D)

japanese twins

and so we frolick down again,to the valley of the known and hidden things,where stuff that has been locked away,buried and drowned are again restored,so the scars still taste fresh against the earth's dampness.the tears become familiar again,and chocolate tastes like tasteless mud.

and at times I don't feel like the string of fibre holding things together,quite the rock that shatters the glass of your neighbour's window.