In Other Words...

His eyes are the palest shade of brown; you can't not be arrested by them. But he never looked me in the eye. He stared at the pepper pot, he took in the wallpaper. Perhaps he does not realise how efficient his impossibly dun eyes are in captivating his audience. Good for me, for had he known it would have caused too much embarrassment to both of us. Or may be he does know. In that case he is wiser than his years. God I don't deserve such torture.

Random Thoughts 1

In my city fall comes before summer. In fact it comes when spring should. But spring comes abruptly in mid February. That has a lot to do with the famous flower show. Anyhow, right now it's fall. Sometimes tiny leaves of big trees fall diagonally against the backdrop of profusely flowering Mountainebony. It looks like a scene straight out of Sailor Moon. I don't like to be told to get a life. I like it the way it is.

Suicide Note of a Superhero

I am going Tristan. Thought would let you know. You always said that with great power comes great responsibility. You have no idea how much it galled me even though you just meant my typing speed. How is it that you who always notice everything never showed any signs of knowing who I was apart from being your personal secretary. You always knew if something was bothering me. I, for the record, was honest in my response; I always told you I was upset because I had to save the world from an impending meteor crash or a mad scientist's sun beams. You always found me funny. I can never forget the look you would give me sometimes - your eyes fixed on mine, your mouth frozen mid smirk. You said you respected my privacy and you got the hint and that I should take care. I did. For years I took care to save people's lives feeling the weight of my powers all the time. But now I am tired. I cannot do this anymore. I cannot have these powers without feeling the great responsibility of rescuing every kitten stuck on a tree, and live. Sure there were perks. Pretty women were routinely smitten by my costume. They had no way of knowing I was not a man. I am burning the suit to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. I'm leaving my armlet in the second drawer in the cupboard to your left. Something to remember me by. Hope you find a good replacement in the office. But don't expect the Annual report prepared, typed and bound, in 30 minutes just in time for the Board meeting. The office computer software is not as good as I made it out to be. Take care.

P.S. - It is harder than I thought. I keep on bouncing off the pavement no matter from what height I jump. And oh, the armlet does not have any magic powers that I know of.

Eavesdropping 1

Overheard in public transport.

"I hate it you know."
"I know."
"I mean that sneaky little brat was standing there all the time behind me looking at everything on the monitor."
"You should have done it at home."
"Yeah, but I had to use the school House Exam template."
"You did change 'em, yeah? So it shouldn't matter."
"Uh, yeah. But I was so totally horrified when I noticed him. He pretended to have come for assignment consultation. The cheek...It felt so...um, I felt naked, you know."
"I know."

Love

Maybe s/he likes me more than just as a friend, maybe s/he does not.

I so wish there was a way to know without any embarrassment. Since there isn't any, the ambiguity must remain. I don't mind it. Being in love alone gives me a heady feeling. I love the hurried care-for-a-coffee look between shifts. I love the small talk over coffee. I love the anecdotes from high school.

The ambiguity must remain yes because this way I don't have to deal with the less than beautiful aspects of love. I can idealise with no fear of discovering annoying habits. No ugly fights. No deliberate hurting.

Ah, paradise.

PS- It's idiotic, my mania for keeping my identity a secret, given so many of my friends already know it. The backslash in "she" is irritating; it kills the flow of the lines. I should stop being such a stupid cunt/bitch. Ah there I go again.

That 70's Show

I was listening to this Frank Zappa track "Why don't you like me" the other day and I thought hmm well that doesn't happen ever. There's this person I see at my work place... Ah, well some thoughts are better left half-articulated even if one is assiduously anonymous.

Well anyway, the song got me thinking about the singer and I noticed how he embodied the classic 70's look. Not just him, all of them 70's musicians. Did these people ever realise they "looked" their time? Did they band together and thought up the look? Sure there are wide variations but the basic theme remains the same. Yeah well they all were reacting to the same realities. Part of the reason why their music too, even though it showcases individual talent is unmistakably 70's.

Still, I mean some of them could have been plump (Elvis was a mistake, he's more like 60's anyway) or beefy or short-haired or you know, generally cute. But all wiry, all with a leave-me-alone scowl, all, for crying out loud, so 70's?

What look do we embody? Are we really just a pastische of past generations? Or is Jameson wrong? Would we know better when we have the advantage of perspectival distance, say, 30 years from now? What would our "now" mean then? Would it be a neat "then" or cut up in parts we never recognised as separable? Do we do all this to past times? Wokay, time for my coffee.

Waste Management

I was stood up by someone today. We were supposed to meet at a place and go together to our common destination. I hate being stood up. Makes me feel like the ultimate loser. No amount of apologising later can make up for wasting my time. Not that I have every moment of my life planned out or neatly allotted to lofty tasks. But nobody besides me has the authority to waste my time.

And what does one do with wastage of time. It is one thing that cannot be retrieved in any way once it has been wasted. It is not like a nice light-blue shirt which gets ruined with ink stains. That could still be managed. It can be dyed to a darker shade. Multi-tasking is the only thing through which wastage of time can be remotely offset in anyway. But I can't read Milton standing on a bus stand.

I would be miserable with guilt if I stood someone up however unintentionally that might be. In fact I am. A friend wanted a certain book picked up and I couldn't find it. Not my fault that it was not available but I should have at least called her up and told her. I didn't. I wish I were not so lonely.