Papoosh etc - Marriage, Motherhood, Mayhem and Musings!

So...I trolled the internet to look up some cool stuff. Cool stuff be damned, its the age of weirdness. Check out the stuff available out there :) My faves: 1) The musical condoms : Now who would NOT like some music to go with the loving huh..huh??? 2) Spray-On Condoms : Yeah, why wait and put them on, when you can enjoy the spray!!! I know I know..not too great with this kinda stuff. 3) The USB vibrator : You can tell what my fave activity is can't you. See. .work and pleasure can go together ;-) Now to the not so sexual weirdness - 4) This one is so amazing, it will blow you away..no seriously. I mean, it combines the pot and the news and your weight. Could anything get better than that. I present the RSStroom Reader . Ok people..weirdness for the day is done :) Now go forth and laugh your guts out. Uhm..or be fascinated..whatever!!!

So...the moping is done with. After the uncomfortable questions needing some answering and concerned messages/calls, for all of the 4 people who read this..I am alright, completely fine. This is venting ground, so I can go back to being the sweet person I am when you talk to me. This is my pensieve, pulling out the dark threads, so I'm all happy happy when I talk to you, the people I love. For some strange reason though, I put my fingers to the keyboard, and no happy words come. I think my fingers are so used to typing in morose stuff, they almost feel the need to revolt when the brain sends happy messages their way :). So.. Fingers..pls behave. I am going to make a conscious effort to do away with the blues and write nice, happy, unmorose stuff for sometime. Until the urge to vent hits me again that is :).

Which is the greater evil? To love and not be loved in return...or to be loved back, but not be allowed to love? Having been on both sides, I can speak for myself..and it is a far far far more painful experience to love a person who is immensely in love with you, but just does not allow you to love them back than to be a person who's love is unrequited. It is possible to move on from a place where nothing even begun...you love someone, they don't love you back..you reel under the knowledge that what you thought you could share with them will never be, learn to accept it and move on. Sooner or later, someone else will come along who will let you forget..and help you cover the half baked foundation and build a new set of dreams...you learn to live, and eventually you find contentment as well. When you are not allowed to love in return though, it is a much tougher struggle..two people reach out...realise that the connection between them runs so deep that it cannot be ignored..and ...

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I itch to write...atleast once a day i peep in here..look around a bit, start stringing words together...and then poof...the thoughts, the so eloquently composed sentences, stories..they all vanish. All that's left behind is the throbbing, the desire, its like a hunger..i just have nothing to feed it..to satiate my own need to write, to let it flow..out from my head onto the screen. My mind is a mystery that is so locked to me, that it is a wonder others can fathom even a little of it...there's too much going on in too many places . Assimilating all those random thoughts, putting them in one place is such an exhausting effort that the process of then verbalising those thoughts in any way whatsoever seems too daunting a prospect to even pursue. But sometimes, rarer now than before, but there are times like those nevertheless...sometimes, however daunting the thought of putting words to feelings, the need overpowers, I have no option but to surrender and let my fingers do their j...

I've always been a voracious reader, picking up any book that comes my way. I refuse to put a book down good or bad until I read the last page. Due to the amount of torture I put myself through because of the self imposed rule, I try to be very choosy about the books I read. Most books slip out of my conciousness once I finish reading them, leaving me with a sense of satisfaction of not having given up even when the reading became a task rather than pleasure. Some books, however, leave me wondering at how beautifully they were written, how seamlessly the story moves and when I finish reading these books, I know that I will be reading them again and again...and again. One of the first books that made me aware of this is 'IT' by Stephen King. Oh all the standard Stephen King fare is dished out. The horrifyingly evil presence, the gruesome details of the sights and smells of death, all that sets the pulse racing, all that King is known and admired for; but in this novel, the w...

I tend to tire of things after a period..thankfully..the trait does not extend to people..or so i like to think :) I think i tired of the blog too..the colours..the theme just didn't do it for me... The change now is in keeping with the theme in my life currently...underwater..the sea.. There is something about the sea that has always tugged at my soul. Never have I felt as much at peace with myself, as much in awe of nature, as much in love with the world as when I am near the sea...Never has anything in nature given me so much insight into myself....not with anything else can I identify as closely as I can with the sea The pull of a calm sea is enchanting, as it invites you into its open arms..to partake of the beauty it offers, of the tranquility it lends to everything around and within you. You wade in a little, and are delighted with the soft kisses, the way the waters tease you, not knowing when it will decide to give into your yearning, let you have a taste of its cool...

The desire to write flows in me like the blood through my veins...just like blood stays inside...so unfortunately does the desire ;) However, i do not want to lose the small spark of talent (if i say so myself) i posess to be able to put my thoughts..my feelings into words..and i try and try and try to come up with words..with thoughts that sound interesting even when they are not just in my head anymore. For added inspiration, i go and read hajaar blogs, not for material, but more for style..and by the end of my research..i am so exhausted..that I end up just shutting down and leaving. At other times, the beauty, the eloquence, the crispness, the humor in the writings that I read put me in no mood to present my less than mediocre attempts at creativity up for public consumption..and then the "evil me" takes over :))) I seem to be at my most creative when work is not only not sucking the life out of me, in a rare display of mercy, it eludes me completely. So I end up...

The dust is clearing, cobwebs being removed from old forgotten corners of my mind. As the light seeps in one ray at a time, the dust floats around, creating brilliant imagery..as the tiny particles play hide and seek with the light...illuminating new angles..never noticed earlier... New beginnings mean so much more than just starting anew, than just covering the old and pushing it to a corner easy to forget... The truly new beginning starts only when the old corners have been dusted, when all memories have been examined from every possible angle, when every perceivable fleck of dust has been carefully removed, when the heart has been polished to shine like new..when it is like a new bride..expectant..full of hope..full of thrilling possibilities for the future, full of dreams to look forward to. I just had to get myself to that place..where old hurts were healed, where all the anger had melted, where the blame game held no more vindication. And you walked in, enveloped in the glow tha...

Life takes turns so different from what we expect it to that now dreaming, planning for a tomorrow seems futile. When one painstakingly builds a palace, carefully placing one block on another...each moment, each incident laminated with the finest anti ageing film that one can find in their minds..just seeing all of it crumble takes away any desire to rebuild..to crumble proof again. In spite of that, we miss the changes that we go through as people in the everyday melee that we call living a life.....in spite of the weight that settles on our shoulders as each day goes by, as our dreams sink more and more into nothingness, we fail to notice how much we stoop, how much more we stagger under that deadweight daily. I've never been much of a chronicler. I could recount incidents from memory..but have no account as such of the 24 years of my life..not in any amount of detail. Even then, this blog in some ways points to the change that has crept in slowly over the last two years. It show...

I feel strangely distended. Like I know all that is happening, and it is happening to me, but is not at the same time. It's like watching a movie, except it is my life!!!

Its amazing how the human mind works, how it is so swayable, and strong at the same time. The biggest of tragedies can leave it unfazed, but the smallest of words can make it work overtime, concocting circumstances, making excuses, trying to find small ways to fit it into the larger scheme of things we call life...

Too much has gone on since the year started. Not been the best of beginnings, infact, could almost put it right on top of the list of the worst ways to start a year. But things are better now, limping back to normal, and hopefully, by the end of the year, I'll be able to look back on this one with a smile and a prayer of gratefulness.. In other news........ I have gone from a girl with a house to...... a girl with a house and "posessions" *grin* Last you heard I had a few buckets here and there and a little kitchen essentials. Now...I have a fridge and a t.v. and a DVD player. If you think I am gloating, you're damn right I am. Nothing till date has ever given me so much a sense of pride as being able to buy "big" things like that with hard earned money that is not my parents' but mine. Yes there is the chink in the armour, I am paying those darned monthly instalments, but that too is out of My Pocket, and I am still getting used to it, both the paying, ...

Long long time since I wrote a single original thought..leave alone posting something. As I type here, I can hear those rusty wheels creak as they turn, can feel my brain sending out signals, groping around for coherence, getting a feel of putting thoughts down in words again..and..and ..it is so damn difficult.

For the few wondering where I've disappeared to...catch my boss :)))) All I see now is my comp and my screens..and obscure companies. The stuff nightmares are made of I tell you!!!!! My literary talents might have more space to grow if only life were as jobless as it were at one time so many eons ago :(((( Pray for me people......and my Pulitzer..:P

A life wasted in looking for what is just beyond reach......tragedy being it is always just beyond reach. A tanatalising flame that dances just enough within frame of vision to seem attainable, but the close one moves to it, the more it eludes....and all that is left is a soul squeezed dry.

They say true love is unconditional, they also say to truly love is to not expect anything in return, and that to love completely is to let go, let the other free. Are none of us then ever party to a love that's true? To a love that is all encompassing? The love of a parent is said to be the purest of all, the most unconditional. But it too has it's own conditions. Aren't the rules laid down to us to follow from the time comprehension first makes an appearance on the scene, conditions in some ways? Love us, their children, they will. We are after all their flesh, their blood, culmination at times of a love that they hope will last, at others, we still are miniature 'thems'. Tiny pieces of them that we carry around just by being alive. And if love that pure, that untainted is still not devoid of expectations, of rules, of conditions, what hope do we have ever of loving or being loved, in the eyes of the world, ideally? Questions, questions and more questions that wil...

I look back on a year that went by in a flash. For some reason, this year seems to have gone by much faster than any other in recent years(that's about as far as my memory helps) :P I have much to be thankful for, thankfully hardly any regrets, and been a good year overall. Am wondering if next year'll be the same. Maybe not. Hoping it'll not be too bad either. This year brought so much into my life...I got out of a not so great job at just the right time, before it started going to pieces, got one far better than I could have imagined to snag. Colleagues with whom I don't really have to watch my back, whom I can trust for the most part. Have grown as a person, hopefully, am better as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend. Have been able to sift the real people, the one's who'll stand by me, from the vast number of casual acquaintances I'd met along the way. It's been a lot of new beginnings, and few hitches along the way. A new house, which'll hopefu...

Yes Yes ppls, I know you're all shaking fists and muttering and generally wondering why I've not been regularly lightening up your lives with humour (at my expense ofcourse, thank you very much)..but have a heart no? I just got out of hospital remember?..And whether it took care of my other ailments or not, it definitely put my sense of humour and general gaiety (no..not like that, am straight) in quarantine!! So(drumrolllllll),Laddis and Gentlemans, with renewed vigour and double enthu I present to you fully recovered, doubly whacked Suha!!!!(Applause, confetti, etc etc...) Am still trying to set up my now not so nice and devoid of previously unnecessarily endowed charms house. Infact, now that I think of it calmly, and put the fact that if not for this house, I'd be rotting in a PG somewhere, with restrictions on everything from timings to the kind of Deo I used aside, I wonder why I decided to live alone in the first place. One has hajaar things to take care of, and only...

So, here I was, trying desperately to concoct some mild reason for me to be at the hospital, but a combination of the satisfied look on V’s face while I said "Hello" and the subsequent worried "what happened" from my mother at the other end just sealed my fate as tightly as possible. As if that wasn’t enough, after knowing every bit of the story thanks to V, mother decided the doctor who so confidently refused to believe it was anything more than a panic attack, needed to be told it wasn’t so, and that he was to keep me in hospital for atleast 24hrs under observation. Poor V, not keeping too well either, went all around, looking for the doctor, made sure my mom had her word with him, and it was decided that I’d stay there for 24 hrs. My team lead was informed by Mirji that I was going to be admitted and would be back in office the next day most probably. You must think, why I’m making such a big deal about this whole thing right? So I was in hospital for a day, Big ...