Random

I don't care what you had for dinner. I don't care if your car broke down. I don't want to know how many times you saw that advertisement. It doesn't matter how many times you spoke to a person. It doesn't matter that you don't speak to me. All I'm asking for is this, and it hurts me to think that it's too much to ask of the world. Give me a meaningful conversation, and I'll give you my time.

P.S - This is not a hint to anybody, I don't even know who I'm talking about. It's just frustrating to know that there are very few people left in the world who can even sustain a meaningful conversation for as long as it deserves.

Take me home.

Give me a meaningful conversation
one that I'll cherish forever
give me the twinkle in my eyes
that I had as a child

give me a lifetime of happiness;
one with no restraints
give me a place in your life
one that i know is mine

take me to a place far away
away from mundane life and the miseries
take me by my hand to time not bound
by dimensions, or distance

carry me through the darkness
and lead me to the sunrise
I'll close my eyes and follow you
Take me wherever you go,
Oh why don't you take me home?

P.S - Those looking for genuine poetry need not look here.

Just another lazy day.

Cheerful "good morning" greetings, filter kaapi after brushing, THE HINDU ( I swear, it's a relief after reading the crappy Deccan Chronicle I used to get in Hyderabad), mom's suda suda soft idli's for breakfast followed by my all-time favorite fruit salad. Yes, I'm home! It doesn't matter that it's only for two days. I'm in chennai - my place, my area, my city. Hyderabad was lovely and the weather was just right almost all the time. In comparison, this place is humid, and if you go for a walk at 12 noon you'll probably come back with a hole through your head. But it's still my place, and I'm loving it. My beloved chaat-wala will be waiting for me outside Nilgiris, I never let him down when I come to chennai - his pani puri's lure me to his shop almost daily. It's not the best, and it's definitely not as big as the puri's I got at Dadu's, but it's definitely worth the 5 minute walk down to the place. And the best of it all, mom's cooking! I can almost smell the aroma of sweet nimbu rasam and vengaaya vethakozhambu with seppangazhangu fry :) Gawd, I love being here, and that's made me bunk two more exams. So that makes it six, if anybody is keeping count. And it also means I've to attend all six the next two mid-terms. Oh well, who cares, really? I loved the restaraunts and chaat shops in Hyderabad, people around me ensured that each time I went to a different place in a different part of the city. But now I'm going back to the good old Hotel Saravana Bhavan to meet a very unlikely friend. Anybody jealous? Please be. Those who know me will know I deserve this break. Long live Chennai! :)

Blank

Did I actually go to Hyderabad? My blog says so. A few mails in my inbox say I've met new people, photos in my laptop indicate that I've had a lot of fun, but was it all true? Did it actually happen, or was it just a bad dream? I say bad, because it's now over. All good things come to an end they say. Pah. Like they know how good some things are and how it just shouldn't end. They say life isn't fair. That you never get what you want? Then how come I got what I needed the most, though I myself wasn't sure of what I wanted? I don't believe in anything being perfect. Things always go wrong - that's the way it's meant to be, I say. But I think I've to change my opinion because the last two months have proved me wrong. It doesn't matter where I was in my life, it doesn't matter how bad a shape I was in when I went there, all I do know is that sometimes "it" just happens. I refrain from using the word because I don't believe in it, though as a kid I used to desperately hope it was true. Magic. That's the word I use to describe my stay in Hyderabad. Pure, rare, unadulterated magic.

I've been blank ever since I left lab two days back - clutching the NMR book that I got as a gift. It was a 45 minutes drive back to my relative's place, and that's what I was - blank. Throughout the journey. And that night. And the following morning. And on the flight back home. And now, only once I'm home, I'm able to think. It's all still a bit hazy but it's becoming clear now. What I was before I went there, and what I will be now that I'm going back to a place that has sworn to suck all the life out of me. Sigh. I'm going back to college, people. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE hostel life and I love my friends enough to say I'm waiting to see them. But you'll know what I'm talking about only if you're a part of what we are. Sid summed it up in the best possible way when we met. He said something close to this- "These two months made me feel like I was alive. Now we're going back to being zombies. ". That's the way it is, but it's the last year and we've now formed a group, you see. A group of zombies stuck in a place they don't understand - and this group has decided to help each other survive the inevitable proselytization of these pure souls to zombiness. Well, you get my point. If you don't, consider yourslef lucky that you don't belong to the same place that I do. That's that.

Anyway, this was supposed to be a tribute to my life in Hyderabad, but see what it's become - another bunch of sad lines about THE place. So let's stop it right here, shall we?

What did Hyderabad mean to me? Everything.

Why did I leave? Only because I had to.

Will I go back again? The minute I get another opportunity.

What will I do if I go there? Go to lab.

Oh and I cannot resist the temptation to crack the worsht PJ that just crossed my mind. If I'm blank, I should just subtract myself from all the readings that I get, right? I know you're all staring at the screen saying, eh? Was that a joke or what? No, that's a somewhat scientific joke and people in lab might probably *hi fi* over it. Sigh.

Call me crazy, that's who I am.