hugging the day, and more

Can i talk about the random-est thing ever? Can i?
Even if you said no, i won't stop. So here it goes.

Hugs.
i want to count the number of hugs i've been a part of today.
The days started out on a low note. like an instrument outta tune but then the sunshine started
to peek out from behind the (REALLY) huge clouds.
naturally, metaphorically speaking.

Once upon a time? Nah!

Sh-wuti. (psst, check out the way i've butchered her name)
S (warm)
Silly Billy (multiple times)
D-ika (new hug-er!)
Funti (to make her less grumpy)
H-ba (even though there was mud on the costume! :D)
S-shi (post-play)
S-ba (post-play)
S-na (screw dirty costume, we hugged like bear-cubs on the loose)
Me-zie (kaati hug. nostalgia)
Tani (awwle. warm like toast)
D-ny (umm relatively new-ish)
N-in (person i met for the first time today!..)
J-vi (haha. sandwich hug with above acting as slice one!)

wow, and this wasn't even a Major hug day! i guess it just feels great to wrap your arms around someone and indulge yourself!... vindhya i missyah! i know you're in delhi now, but i wanna sleeepovah! blasted Eliot!

Ps- D-ny, N-in and moi randomly burst into Mika' Grace Kelly in the middle of the meeting....the wonderful thing was that i wasn't the only one outta tune! *beams*... haha. sucks to those who think i can't sing! see people, there are other' out there who are worse. mwahahaha!

1.2.3. GO!

God! I'm 20. 20. 20. 20. 20.

Well, of course God knows, assuming my belief system is even .01% accurate. God knows.
but wait, do I know? Do i?
Do i realize the full implications of the baggage that comes with?
Its no longer all about melody and moving-with-the-flow crap.
People are DOING stuff for where they wanna be 4 months from now. or 5. maybe 6.
and i. am. watching. them. do. it.

Unless i strap on those running shoes, all these fancy words wont mean a flying-rats-left-bum.
They will mean nothing! nothing! nothing!
i should study Eliot.

unreasonable post-its.

Don't believe all those spiritual talks about forgiveness being positive and healthy. Doing so makes you forget the lesson learnt, until you scrape the barely-healed wound over the same old-rusty wire. It's important to not forget. If not forgiving is the only way to hold on to what the experience has taught one... its hard to pick what to do!
Measure the 'crime' ...label it? mark it with pink post-its for work-able.
purple for second-chance crime
orange for don't-look-back.

How many post-its per wound? One? Five? Seven or Nine.
You pick. you choose. you grab the new post-its and decorate each tear and abrasion.
Like medals awarded post-war for bravery.
Congratulations madame, you have survived 7 winters with 18 extra drops of dew on rosy cheeks. The extra dew was an accident, it had to go to Ms. YZU but reached your doorsteps. and then you opened the doors and let it wash over you.
Who asked you to? But it's okay that you did for not with it, you get a coloured post-it.
Pick choose. Divide your life into boxes.

Box A. Lets peek and see what you've stocked up on. Oh YES. We have a clear winner. It's mouldy-memories of playing with hand-me-down toys. Brown fluffy teddy's. The jury DOES like the innocent ones, brownie points await. *nudge*...*nudge*

Box B(eee) has torn bits of people-who-must not be mentioned. uhoh. Lets skip this then. The old skeleton in the cupboard? Ah oh (ignore cameraman ignore)

Box C. oh well, we're running out of boxes here folks but worry not the 148 post-its are STILL around. We shall label em. but not now, later.
After all it IS 12.20 am. time for baby to nap. not mine, yours, or anyone' we know. But some baby out there MUST nap.
Probably, yes.
Lets give it company.
now.

rambling eeeeon eeeeeeon eeeeeeeeon

Regardless of what the world believes or how hard they (nearly all) yawn in E's class... Neruda is 'something else'. As usual? No, apart from Eliot (and that too at the end)... Neruda is the person who makes sense. at a universal meaningful level. More easy to appreciate esp after Beckett' Endgame. This is SO purely for people studyin literature. Sigh.

Whaznu? you ask.
Nuthin-mush. i answer.

Great indulging in random conversation with myself now.
Bein pulled towards abstract these days.
Gotta pull up socks (shoes, paintings, ribbons) all that it takes.
get (sit, huddle, scrunch) down to studies.
Ah. you englaisse language you.
keep spilling like coconut juice from, a coconut.

i want 31st December plan to come true.
'wild' partyin with a special few and considerably less special many.
whadddveneed? you ask.
people- check
transport- (umm)
venue- kindaah-yeah-okay-maybe check
clothes- (yay yay yay) check check check (the closet is bursting)
fancy perfect heels- (i could have included this in outfit but this way i get to gush MORE) CHECK
the desire to move out on 31st- check (currently)
permission- check (im 20, not 2)

sigh. Its all a fancy 'check' as a whole. (bites nails). Time will tell if 6 checks lead to one perfect night. :)

to belong

I wake up and my eyes widen. Something doesnt feel quite right i think fumbling for words.
There's N chasing his mutt Rhino. G hobbles on as always towards the seedy bar, his only companion in old age.
We were all scared that the town would flood says a voice behind me.
i jump. okay, its only Nat..and he talks to everyone.
It may seem normal but somewhere i just know that the unusual is prancing around.
waiting to pounce, like the tiger that escaped from the zoo last week. or was it last month?
i'm going to look around i decide. Yes, firm regulated footsteps towards each house.
Knocking on doors, windows. Pans?
oh wait. now my pants are soggy. its okay, just a little puddle. seems fairly large though.
distracted by a yellow light i look up. oh. its now time to sunbathe.
i go towards the camp. the camp where the others sit together.
and i apart.
Everyone ignores me. Relief. Yes, its all normal.
But wait, everyones pants are wet too.
Somehow they all stepped into the same large puddle.
finally, a sense of community. we all know what to ignore and what all to accidently step into.
i muse and some more water splashes on my pants.
ummm. it feels good to call these people a 'we', its me with them i think joyfully.
finally. i get to be like them. see, even my pants are getting more wet.
JUST LIKE THEIRS!
ah! finally, a sign from the big man up there.
we belong together. 'we'... 'together'
this water feels chilly. ah, my knees feel chilly.
they're shivering too.
Is this what friendship is? i wonder.
how instantaneous is the empathy!
no wonder we all want a 'we' in life.
who wouldnt? i hug myself.
ummhumm. i guess i must have slipped into the puddle completely.
look, my shirts wet too. and its getting harder to walk.
feels like im wading. but its all okay, they're all wading too.
i feel good. this is a good day. we have so much in common now.
There goes a fish right next to my ear.
for a second i'm alarmed and then i get it.
of course.
the fish have learnt to fly.
relieved, the others... my friends... they all nod in agreement.

--------

Oh Dear Me.

fingers are turning a light blue
and heart pale yellow

Dearest Winter,
I'm glad you're here. It gives us all something concrete to complain about.

Dearest Happy-Person,
The air of joy around you infects everyone within a 5 mile radius.

Dearest Crappy-Things-in-the-World,
The consistency is appreciated for the virtue that consistency is, nothing more or less.

Dearest Guardians-of-Morality,
Its time you glance into a mirror. Chances of provoking narcissism are few. Trust you me.

Dearest Knife-in-the-Back,
It hurt at first but now am getting used to the sting.

Dearest 'Louuu',
dearest dearest lou. haha.

Dearest Laughter,
You have very strong arms that pull me outta every pothole i trip into. Keep working out!

Dearest Blogger,
dearest dearest blogger, i louuu you. you give me time to breathe and speak!

Dearest Pink,
You look good with silver and purple, and you make us all look darrrrn good.

Dearest Words,
If life was a teacup and you coffee then you runneth over in mine.

Dearest Common-sense,
i miss you.

eff it all, its just a phase

If life was a golden lab following us around (till it prances away and we die). If a dog was our pulse and its bounding next to us HAPPY our good phase. Then this time, i was jogging and the dog came up behind me (snuck up really, the mutt) and with a joyful leap left muddy footprints on my back (tall dog?).

so i know its icky and i probably should change outta the pink outfit (catering to stereotype here)... the outfit being circumstances... and i know...if i dont change then that mud IS going to dry up. it WILL be harder to clean up. it WILL take more time. and i keep running around the park all muddy anyway.

That, is my life. THIS is a phase.
I should go back to reiki.
I know it'll help.

-i want january to come. i want to study for my exams. i want to not have time to blog 5 times a day.