Note to self...

Last....

One last call...to hear your voice

One last plea...to let me in

One last whisper...to say I love you

One last whimper...to say it pains

One last tear... to forever embed you in my heart

A plea...

How does one go from being the love that was much cherished to become the unrequited love that a heart mourns every moment?

You chose to stop loving me while I chose never to stop loving you ever.
You chose to ignore my silent pleas and concentrate on my shortcomings.
I chose to ignore your mistakes and look deep within you and understand your pain and the demons you were fighting in your head and heart.

We both had demons we were fighting, whose demon was more frightening is a futile argument.
We had momentarily had our hearts filled with despair and distrust but I found strength in your love to rise above that poisonous cloud.

I was determined to not let anything take you away from me because you were and are the love of my life, my source of sustenance, my heart, my soul, my storm and my peace.
You were my zen and my chaos.
You completed me.

We lost a dream together when we lost that spark of life growing within me...in my despair, I tried reaching out to you, in your despair, you cringed away from me...turning my despair and desperation into blinding rage that burnt your heart and sizzled the tears into oblivion.
I faltered and in doing so my hand slipped from yours and I fell into the deep dark abyss of nothingness.

My existence is void of soul, of love, of happiness.
I exist now to simply exist in a world I can't fathom nor trust nor feel.
As I stare into the void, burning tears race down my cheeks.
I close my eyes imagining your fingers wiping away the pain.
Yet I know it may never be.

You are not to blame, neither am I...we both are doing what we know is true...me, loving you,  as you walk away from me.

You are my love, my life...now all that is left is to learn how to live a lifeless existence.

The heart wants to give up, the mind is blank but somehow I know I have to trudge along...the journey isn't over yet.

There are mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, people to take care of...so I conjure the plastic smile, put my chin up and walk bravely.

Just that no one sees the glazed eyes and the tears that I promptly wipe...

Don't let her go...

"My Love", she beckoned to him.

Arms outstretched, tears drenching her sweet face,

Scarlett lips trembling with anticipation.

He turned back, eyes flashing in anger.

Strong hand gripped the pale, slender neck

The dark of his skin making her white look ethereal

Her bountiful bosom heaved with labour

As she gasped for air

With loving eyes she looked up to his handsome face

Distance made her heart fonder, but his heart did not reciprocate

She had tried in vain to show her unflinching love

He said she smothered him

Every step, every word, every gesture – misunderstood, misinterpreted, mistaken

The more she tried to come close, the more he drifted apart

Like a mirage in a desert

She raised a delicate hand to touch his face one last time

Then she slumped into nothingness

He realised his loss

But his passionate kisses and warm tears couldn’t bring her back

In a moment of rage, all was lost

Love died in the arms of its beloved

He weeps still…

Longs for her to come back and smother him with her love…

A love that he threw away, a love like no other

A love that only her eyes brimmed with…a love lost forever!

The Story of the Blues...

He was blue, so was she,
They painted their faces so no one could see...
Their unique identity. 
She looked for a blue, and so did he;
They passed each other and couldn’t see,
All their lives they looked, but never knew,
That the one they looked for had passed right through!

Gale Force Winds

Sailing in life's tempestuous seas,
All I asked from you was a patch of sunshine, some peace and quiet.
You promised love in all it's splendor.
Dropped a veil over my eyes and led me to a whirlwind of pain and despair.
The veil was lost to gale force winds.
I opened my eyes to a bewildering and frightful sight
Caught in a tornado of a distraught heart,
I'm trying to fight the hurricane in my heart and save myself from the lashings of my soul.
As I gasp for breath, all seems lost.
Drowning in love's betraying seas, I struggle to stay afloat.
There's no God. There's no hope. There's no love lost.
It's all a mirage.
Mirage created by gale force winds,
To be seen by eyes of hurt souls looking for comfort
So the ever starving, loathsome red sea could consume a few more hearts
As I drown I try to send a warning to souls like me...
Beware! But I'm too late...
The seas echo with your laughter...
One more heart to feed on. One more soul to rip apart...
As you prepare for the next meal.
The glint in your eyes mirror the sparkle on the waves...

Will you?

 

If I disappeared from your life, 

Will you come looking for me?

If I stopped expressing my heart on paper,

Will you suddenly wait for the mail?

If I quit bothering you with my pleading,

Will you look back and wonder why?

If I held back the tears,

Will you wonder if it still hurt?

If someday I stopped breathing, 

Will you shed a tear for me?

Letter from a Social Misfit

I am a social Misfit...so you say!

I come from a liberal Bengali bourgeois family with relations in almost all communities of the world. My dad's aunt is married to a Gujarati, while his cousins are married to UP Bhojpuris and Malayalis, my cousins have been married into cultures as varied as Tullus to Delhite Punjabi to British, German, and Australian

while I myself am married to a Kashmiri Pandit and have a Sardarni as my sister-in-law! The list goes on...

It was thus natural for me to approach different cultures and their customs with respect and inquisitiveness. For me, each relationship opened up doors to new learning, helping me enrich my soul!

Forgive me if that is my outlook towards life; this all-compassing nature has made a social misfit!
"Why so?", you may ask.

My reply is simple. Because our society is one where each of us eye the other with suspicion. Even more if the other person is different culturally. I have had to hear such name calling as a "Bloody Bong!" as if there was something wrong with my ethnicity. And that too in my own country. Office politics would swirl around the ethnicity of the target, and God forbid if you were in the minority! The hounds of office ville would pound you with such relentless viciousness that you'd either end up submitting your "inferiority" to the bullying bandits and suck up to them or quit in disgust, in which case, your CV gets shortchanged! She can't stick around! SOCIAL MISFIT! Sigh! If only people would ignore these differences and concentrate on their work instead! The amount of effort that goes into pulling someone down and trampling all over them would bear so much fruit if directed towards the original work duties instead!
So, I am a social misfit!

But then, this isn't the only reason for my scarlet letter! I have the audacity of treating everyone the same - be it my house help, or the CEO of a firm, or an office boy, my relatives and family or the sweeper or a beggar! I was taught to believe in dignity of labor. BUZZZZZZZZZZZ...how dare I say that? Compare a CEO with a sweeper? I'd say why not? Each is doing the best they can to etch an honest living! Hard work is all am seeing here. So when I tell my house help that she should not sit on the floor but on the sofa with me or have her meals on my expensive Corelle dinnerware and crystal glasses instead of a designated, cheap steel plate and glass, eyebrows are raised, some social diva's faint and some find ways to avoid coming to dinner in case the same dinnerware is used to serve them!And I become a social misfit!

I talk about things that are taboo...sex, rape, incest, homosexuality, premarital sex, abortions, incest, porn, prostitution! OMG! She's a devil woman! How could I talk about such taboos? Well, I'd say why not? Am no holier than thou, I have seen the world and although I have an entire life left to learn, I believe that pushing issues under the carpet doesn't eliminate them. Everyone is entitled to their opinions. I am too. I support homosexuality as a right of an individual. I support abortion if it saves the life of the mother or when there is a reason to it! I am against female foeticide and the craving for a son as I believe selective breeding or preferring one gender over the other is pure, unadulterated hypocrisy! Rape is an ugly reality that needs to be fought, hand, nail and tooth. Honor killings enrage me...whose honor are we talking about? Where's the honor in talking lives just because someone had the good sense to look beyond the societal brick walls and be human for a change? That kind of love that doesn't fall prey to such mindless norms of caste, creed and religion is something to be celebrated, not murdered! I am a social misfit!

A lot of those who'd have the stomach to read this socially outrageous piece would condemn me to hell; but if hell is the only place on earth where I'd get to meet such social misfits as myself, then, that's where I'd happily be! Let the thoughts of us social misfits stoke the embers of hell, let the sparks fly, let the fire rage on!

I am not great! Neither do I proclaim or aspire to be great. My aspiration is simple - to be human! I do not say that I need to be followed...no! There are great leaders for that! All I ask is for the social bourgeois to open their eyes and look around! What have we done to the world? I do not want to start a fight, I'd rather live my life in peace, just let me be. I am a product of a well-rounded upbringing and if my thoughts and beliefs make me a social misfit, then I pray with folded hands that my children and the children after them continue to be social outfits. Maybe one day, our thoughts and beliefs would catch on and the world will know peace and tolerance, much more than it does now!

I am a social misfit and I wear my brand with pride.

adios amigos!

Dead Season (2012) left me "zombied"!

Seriously guys!

Me being a horror-flick lapping person, I couldn't resist when the cable TV started airing the zombie flick Dead Season last night! A mistake I could've avoided if I just made the effort of reading a few reviews online!

Nevertheless, the mistake was running on my television set and I determined myself to sit through the entire length of the movie.

Now, what was this about? zombies? cannibalism? psychotic scenes where a man's body is being hacked with a saw while he's still alive and under some medicines (did the guy say "am giving you some vitamins"?) so he cant move or shout? or a lame ass sex scene? Hmmm, I guess all of 'em!

Our male lead is a man who's so insentisized that he can kill a kid or anyone else bitten by a zombie (even when they're still human...well it makes it easier to deal with them at this stage) with a bullet to the back of the head. The female protagonist who is named "Tweeter" (really?) is a shabby copy of "Alice" from the "Resident Evil" franchise; she's a mean killing machine with a conscience. They flee mainland US in a boat to a remote island, hoping to set foot on a virus-free piece of paradise but is obviously in for something else. The island is inhabited by zombies and a group of human survivors who lives protected behind a gated area!

Now, who's the villain here? The ill-fated humans turned zombies? Well they're disgusting with contorted faces and they'll repel you especially when they start tearing the abdominal cavity of our fellow humans and pull out intestines and eat 'em. But they're also captured and used as a training material to understand and learn how to avoid, combat and kill a zombie! Hmmmm, live-combat training!

And then there's the leader of the survivors! He orders the pack of humans around, sending them on scavenging trips, decides who gets to join the group and who becomes a meal! Yes, MEAL! normal humans who aren't welcome into the group are tied up and their "meat" harvested while they're still alive. The group survives on a diet of this human meat delicatessen, roasted/charred and had with chilled beer (where do they get such huge supplies of chilled beer on a deserted island?). No matter that the daughter of our leader (who's been locked up in a room for 10 months) and Tweeter decides to bail!

Gory scenes galore might make this a treat for gore-enthusiasts, but after a while i just sat zombie like...without flinching, even as a man was being harvested. I've seen a lot of zombie movies and trust me this ain't one of the best, or even good ones! If you want gore go watch the SAW series and other classic movies like Hotel and better ones like Turistas! And if you really can digest gore, catch a glimpse of the 1980's classic, Cannibal Holocaust! If blood and guts and gore makes you throw up...don't watch this one...its not worth the effort!

No offence or hard feelings Adam Deyoe, but better luck next time!

I guess Dead Season wants to make a zombie out of you, so watch it at your own peril.

 Watch the official trailer here!

PS: If you think this post is "zombie-like", then am still numb after watching the movie!

What a waste! What a waste! What a waste! What a waste! What a waste! What a waste! What a waste!

Raindrops...

It's raining, finally. The big drops of water hit my face and breaks into a thousand small droplets of molten diamond.

As the glistening fluid trace the contours of my face, my minds tries to renew itself while the heart gets haunted by the past in myriad ways. Sometimes it is bathed in the golden warmth of fond memories, at other times it walks the dark alleys of pain and cringes in agony. The mind, on the other hand, is oblivious to the matters of the heart, or at least it aspires to be. The marriage of the two has ceased to be, they walk their separate ways, think separate thoughts.

Perhaps the mind has attained the state of Nirvana - the place where mortal needs, feelings, sensations do not matter. Still, it revels in the glory of the pitter patter sound that fills its auditory senses. It basks in the gentle light that sparkles within each raindrop. It sighs at the sensuous touch of the drops, sizzling away as it glides down the warm skin!

And the mind is then forced to think - Is this Nirvana? Being one with nature? Feeling it caress you, hearing it speak softly in your ears? But then another more solemn questions fills the mind…isn’t this reminiscent of what the heart feels?

The mind feels confused; the heart reaches out and speaks softly in the mind's ears...yes, this is how I see the world, and this is how I feel!

The lips curl into a gentle smile as the marriage of the heart and mind is revived with renewed vows of togetherness as they both realize that each is incomplete without the other.

The rain god showers his blessing with more molten diamonds, for now, all is well in the land of love!

Krishna visits my canvas!

Of late, my four year old kid has become an ardent follower of Krishna, the blue-hued Hindu God. So it wasn't surprising that while pondering over the subject for a painting, it was decided that I was to paint a portrait of the endearing God.

A shopping trip to the malls ensured that I had the canvas and the paints required to start my work. Kiddo was packed off to school the next morning and I sat with a blank canvas, old brushes and new paint! Two hours later, the painting was finished and I eagerly waited for my daughter to return home.

She burst through the door after a while! Her joy and excitement at seeing the painting was the biggest pat on the back that I had ever received! A post on Facebook brought me purchase offers which I had to politely decline as this was made for my baby and she was totally against selling the piece!

She now calls it her "Krishna" (photo above) and is blissfully happy about her new possession. I have been encouraged to paint more...a hobby I had almost given up if not for my daughter!

In some ways, I believe Krishna has a hand in the revival of my enthusiasm for trying my hand at painting, and I guess I'll continue down the artistic path!

The terrifying revenge of the malicious mouse!

Ah! Wasn’t I delighted with my new pair of party shoes! The glitter of the studded Swarovski crystals matched the sparkle in my eye. I was happy, delighted in fact with my new possession. The “inaugural wear” at the party that night was a success too, what with countless stares at my well heeled feet, you bet it colored my cheeks a shade deeper of red.

Little did I know that my beloved shoe would die a horrendous death at the hands of a mere but malicious mouse!

Now this little mouse and his buddy had found a way into my house and had wrecked havoc in the drawing room and kitchen. Curtains and furniture were nibbled with élan and even a few storage boxes were destroyed! I finally chased and cornered one of the gangster when it jumped into the deep kitchen sink and with my heavily gloved hands, caught it and threw it out of the house, closing the door behind it!

Phew, I guessed I had won the battle but little did I know the revengeful mind of the mouse leader! Blinded with rage with the eviction of its brother-in-arm, the mouse plotted its revenge. The idea was to strike hard and deep so that the revenge became an unforgettable one!

I knew something was coming, so I checked and double checked that all the cabinet doors were locked tight. I couldn’t do much for the furniture and the curtains so I prayed for their safety before tucking into bed.

At night, the menacing mouse entered my living room like a Ninja out for revenge! It scrutinized the rooms on the ground floor with its hawk eyes, searching for the one victim that would break my resolve of fighting the mouse fraternity! As it scanned the room, its eyes caught the glint of my shoes. The pretty shoes stood just above the shoe cupboard, gazing out the big glass windows at the bright full moon outside. The moon talked to the crystals with its light and the crystals responded with its sparkle.

The romantic moment was suddenly shattered by the squeak of the menacing mouse. The glint of sharp claws and the flash of razor sharp teeth was all that was seen for the next few minutes as darling shoe was torn to pieces. As the delicate darling’s limbs got strewn across the floor, and the crystals were torn from its body, death numbed her senses.

The next morning I came down from my first floor bedroom to see the decapitated body of my prized shoe, with the crystals strew about the floor and the delicate straps lying all over, in small pieces.

The mouse has had its revenge. The murder had left me heart-broken. Through warm, salted tears that gushed down my cheeks, only two words escaped my lips – rat poison! 

The war had just begun!

Whoa! Troll!

Whoa! Lookout, its a troll!

I'm an internet junkie and man, do I get the occasional visit from a Troll. It’s interesting how the word meandered its way from Scandinavian folklore and Norse mythology to modern day tech jargon.

Let me tell you (in short) what the good old Scandinavian and Norse folk regarded as Trolls. The Norse mythology came first and were somewhat social beings, living in families (usually as father-and-daughter or mother-and-son) in isolated mountains, rocks, and caves. In the Middle Ages, the word Troll was used to denote a multitude of beings such as a giant or mountain-dweller, a witch, an abnormally strong or large or ugly person, an evil spirit, a ghost, a blámaðr, a magical boar, a heathen demi-god, a demon, a brunnmigi or a berserk.

Scandinavian folklore gave a more particular description of what could be called a Troll. Lore described them as being extremely old, very strong, but slow and dim-witted, sometimes with a cannibalistic urge. The stories said that the Trolls turned to stone upon contact with sunlight. Later, it was also said that Trolls can be quite "human looking" without any particular hideous appearance. But these Trolls would be distant, anti-Christian and prone to "kidnapping". Trolls were scared of lightening!

The modern day Troll is a much more sinister being! Let me speak in the wise words of Wikipedia, "In Internet slang, a troll (pron.: /ˈtroʊl/, /ˈtrɒl/) is someone who posts inflammatory, extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community, such as a forum, chat room, or blog, with the primary intent of provoking readers into an emotional response or of otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion. The noun troll may also refer to the provocative message itself, as in: "That was an excellent troll you posted."

While the word troll and its associated verb trolling are associated with Internet discourse, media attention in recent years has made such labels subjective, with trolling describing intentionally provocative actions and harassment outside of an online context. For example, mass media has used troll to describe "a person who defaces Internet tribute sites with the aim of causing grief to families.""

Well mythology or online irritants, I'd like trolls to keep to themselves. Not a very nice label to aspire for. So long!

Thank you!

In our lives we come across hundreds of people every day. Most of them dissolve into the hazy realms of obscurity while a handful of people have lasting effect on our lives. Even fewer have a deeper impact on us and thus are raised to the pedestal of admiration. Two such people in my life are my grandfather and my school principal.

My grandfather’s handsome face and grey blue eyes mesmerized me even as a child. A Masters in History, his face would glow and his eyes light up when he narrated events of history instead of fairy-tales. For me history was more fascinating than Cinderella and his detailed narration made history exams a cakewalk in later life. But what amazed me was the warrior-like spirit of this old man who had seen two exoduses in life. During the partition in 1947, he had to leave his sprawling bungalow along with its exquisite contents, including a horse-shoe shaped white piano, and his flourishing multiple businesses in East Bengal for the safety of India. He moved with his wife and four daughters to Assam, a place which closely resembled his hilly former hometown of Sylhet. After rebuilding his life mirroring almost the same level of opulence, he once again had to leave his home and hearth when the Bengali-Assamese strife threatened the lives of his family and that of himself. Moving to a small two bedroom flat in the outer fringes of Kolkata did take a toll on his health and his fighting spirit. He did try to begin another business but was heavily cheated which left him quite full of despair. My grandfather would not get his glory days back but he provided for his family as best as he could. All his daughters were well educated. Two went on to become much-loved professors, one a well known social worker and the fourth a home-maker. No one would visit my grandparents without being fed wholeheartedly with the most amazing delicacies that my grandmother would cook up in a jiffy. Even when my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, he made sure that his routine remained unaffected. The ailing old man would wake up sharp at four, brisk walk for at least four kilometers, come home and practice yoga and freehand exercises before starting the rest of the day with a cold shower. Even in his deathbed he remained a proud man: author of a Bengali novel, businessman, founder of the best club in Dibrugarh, father of four, a devout Brahmin and most of all, a seeker of knowledge. He taught me to never give up on my hopes and dreams and that strife only made a person better…it is the grinding that every stone needs to shine as a diamond.

The other person who left an undeniable mark on my life is my high school principal, Mrs. Dutta. Here was a woman nicknamed “the iron lady” by her staff and students alike. Ms. Iron lady here was actually like a coconut, hard-to-crack on the outside but a really warm and soft-hearted woman on the inside. She had more than her share of personal strife and was a single mom juggling home and career. Ma’am, as we called her, was a righteous woman and always stood by what was right. She supported me in the various contests in which I took part and won medals and soon the school corridors were abuzz with the rumor that I was part of the elite group of students who were her favorite. She never showed any favoritism except when I was caught in a cross-fire between two sets of teachers and was being used as the scapegoat. Her unbiased support gave me the strength to cope with a most difficult period of my life where I was being unnecessarily harassed and agonized by a particular teacher. It was her faith in me that made me do well in my exams despite a lot of antagonism from a set of teachers and their student pets. IN my boards, I secured the title of topper in two subjects, one statewide and the other being that of a school topper.

Whenever I feel I’m being boxed-in by a situation or I feel myself in distress, I remember my granddad and my high-school days and Mrs. Dutta’s support and a renewed flow of energy gushes through my veins.

Visits of an Otherworldly Kind

I believe my home is being visited by guests of the otherworldly kind. Mostly females and children...and has been made a home by one particular lady whose presence is felt all the time. My maids have felt them, some guests have expressed similar experiences and I feel them all the time.

Some of them do try and create a ruckus to announce their presence...like moving my heavy, wooden chairs on the first floor bedrooms to disturb me when I'm writing or watching a movie downstairs...or maybe not to disturb me exactly, but to secure my attention. One yell to shut up with the noise does the trick and whoever the trickster is, mends his/her ways...even though for a short time. A few days back, I was unwell and disturbed and could not sleep and just called out to my favourite Archangel, Michael, with whom I have an uncanny tie...I fell into the state of being half-awake and half-asleep and saw blue orbs appear near the ceiling followed by gentle hands caressing my long hair till I fell asleep. Next morning my husband, when queried, answered that he was watching TV downstairs till the wee hours of morning so I must've dreamt of being caressed. Well, if it was Michael, thank you my darling angel for comforting me.

The visitors are not always the angelic or the harmlessly naughty kind. My live-in help complained of seeing a woman with a baby in her room who kept kicking her till she fell off her bed and urging her to take her baby whom she cradled in her arms. This she said had been happening for sometime. As always, I requested whoever it was to stop harassing people living in the house and incidentally, the visitations stopped and my live-in help has been able to get some sound sleep. A friend who stayed with me for sometime also complained of someone jumping on her bed at night and would keep the lights on till the first rays of the sun came through the windows. Her problems too disappeared with a simple request to the entity.

Then there was this incident where I was alone in the house, cleaning out the wardrobe when I heard some banging the utensils in the kitchen sink on the ground floor. Guessing that my house help has arrived, I hurried down the stairs to request her to handle the utensils a tad more gently and to use less water. When I reached the kitchen, not a soul was to be seen. My help hadn't arrived and the door was locked from inside. Still, checking the entire ground floor for someone, anyone, I again went back to my first floor bedroom to finish my work. The same tinkering of utensils and gurgling of water got me downstairs within five minutes and again I found myself facing a closed tap and a locked door. A very cold "you know what? You don't scare me, so get on with it" was enough to make the miscreant spirit stop making the racket and go on its way.

I can also sense someone stand and watch me when I work in the kitchen or sit and watch TV or do any of the numerous off chores around the house. I've learnt to live with these souls. It is they who need our compassion and acknowledgement. Sometimes, a mere acknowledgement and a gentle reminder that they are dead helps them go on in their journey towards the light. This might seem weird to a lot many people but I along with a lot of people visiting me have felt the presence of the world overlapping that of our own. We respect each other and live in harmony. After all, it is a part of nature and who are we to try and change the course of whats natural.

The Little One

My little one is all of three years old. She's got the best of Bengali and Kashmiri genes and is the perfect miss smartypants! Last night we were trying our best to put her to sleep as it was way past her bedtime and the clock was chiming a very late time of 12 AM. My husband tried to play the lights on-lights off routine but the instant retort from a miffed kid was "what are u doin'? are you nuts?" hearing this retort left us half shocked and half in splits. When we tried to scold her, she innocently pointed out "mama, I'm a small baby...how do i know (if that was rude behaviour)?"...hubby just locked himself in the bathroom to have a hearty laugh while i bite my lip to stop a chuckle from giving me away!

Her "baby" beside her, she finally decided to give sleep a chance when i pleaded with her that she needs to "charge" herself as her friends Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Sam and Ironhide (from the Transformers franchisee) were low on energy and desperately needed her help. So, she should charge herself with her invisible charger plugged into her invisible plug-points in the waist and send energy to her friends via the sleep portal. She eagerly complied as letting her friends lose against the Decepticons (the bad guys from the Transformers franchisee) was not an option she was ready to consider.

Now as I'm typing away on my keyboard, my Lil one's leaning over me with the request "mama, bachhon ko computer chahiye hota hai na seekhne ke liye ABCD...you tube lagao, you tube lagao, you tube lagao (mama, kids need the computer to learn ABCD..log on to you tube)"...I gotta get back to her and explain to her why she can't have a pizza now, why an ear-bud looks the way it does, why Cbeebies isn't airing the program "Show me Show me" right this moment and why she needs to wait for a decade or more to get married....these before more questions pour out...who says being a mum was boring!

tired...

tired.

tired of your ego trips to the moon and back

tired of you misinterpreting every word that escapes my lips

tired of explaining my every move

tired of proving myself to you every second of every moment

tired of saying i love you

tired of crying bitter tears for you

tired of being hurt for no fault of mine

tired of waiting for you all the time

tired of hoping someday you'll understand

tired of living this loveless, barren life

tired of portraying a smiling face amidst all this strife

tired of wishing for death when you hurt me so

tired of hoping that somehow you won't go

tired of the debilitating pain in my heart

tired of convincing myself that we won't part

tired of wishing that you'd somehow love me

tired of living in this dilemma of a life

i'm tired and maybe so are you

i love you and you know its true

i don't want this thing to end

but i cannot hurt anymore

so as i walk away, would you see

the tears that call out for you silently

would you stop me and hold me in your arms

and kiss me till the pain goes numb

energize me with your words

say how you feel - your heart to mine

would you save me from this disaster

or should you watch me pine

and let me die... unrequited love

would you ever be mine?

mangled mind

one, two, three, four...

how many can i take?

deal with one issue and the next lands on my door

relationships are like quicksand

i gasp for breath as they suck me in

its funny in a morbid way

the astral self watches the flesh writhe in pain

unrequited love beckons with a woeful song

the heart wrenches itself out from its cage of bones

while the bloodless body lies limp on the ground

the mangled mind screams silently

there's no happily ever after to eagerly wait for

the tragedy of love lost morphs into the horror of the ensuing pain

i watch, i wait...i hear the shreiks of demons

as they swoop in on my soul

the mangled mind cries out once more

Japanese Government Confirms Meltdown | STRATFOR

Japanese Government Confirms Meltdown STRATFOR

Special Report: Iran and the Saudis' Countermove on Bahrain | STRATFOR

Special Report: Iran and the Saudis' Countermove on Bahrain STRATFOR

Japanese Government Confirms Meltdown | STRATFOR

Japanese Government Confirms Meltdown STRATFOR

Red Alert: Radiation Rising and Heading South in Japan | STRATFOR

Red Alert: Radiation Rising and Heading South in Japan STRATFOR

Dark Depths

No hope, No light. No peace

Chaos reigns supreme

Love lost in fruitless desires

Soul refuses to awaken from it's sleep

Deep, dark abyss sends tears to oblivion

The heart bleeds red drops of passion

A thousand screams echo silently

Lips turn blue in an increasingly white face

Shards of glass pierce the feet that walks

Thorns and leafy blades cuts the skin

Black tunnel refuses to end

I have lost the light within.

-- 12 April 2008/2PM IST

Vitamins for a Healthy Skin

Everyone wants to be beautiful and a glowing skin can and does negate the need of plastering yourself with cosmetics to appear attractive. With our daily hectic lifestyle and inadequate rest, acquiring dn maintaining a healthy, glowing skin seems to be a lost battle. Yet, it takes little to have that all encompassing glow.

A good night’s sleep, adequate intake of water and moderate exercise all helps keep our skin supple and soft but including a few vitamins in our everyday diet can help achieve great results in a relatively less time.

Vitamin A, B, C, K and E are all great for your skin and are easily available in a variety of food that we eat as well as in a few cosmetic products.

If you are having adequate Vitamin A in your diet, then you probably do not need to add supplements. Deficiency in Vitamin A leads to dry, flaky skin and it would be a good idea to include more of this Vitamin in your diet. Vitamin A maintains and repairs your skin tissue and prevents acne. It helps reduce sebum production and is a very effective antioxidant that helps flush out free radicals and toxins from your body thereby improving wrinkles and fine lines. Vitamin A can be found in sweet potatoes, baby carrots, mango, spinach, cantaloupe, milk, and egg yolks. Too much intake of Vitamin A is also not good as it leads to brittle bones and eventually, fractures. Instead, try using topical gels, creams etc to nourish your skin.

Vitamin B Complex is very important for your skin.  Biotin, a nutrient that forms the basis of skin, nail, and hair cells is the most important of all B Vitamins. Deficiency can lead to dermatitis and hair loss. Biotin is present in foods including bananas, eggs, oatmeal, salmon, flounder, chicken, turkey, beef and rice, plus your body also makes some biotin on its own. Niacin, another B Vitamin is also useful in soothing dry, irritated skin and to even out a blotchy skin tone. Niacin helps the epidermis to retain moisture, prevents hyper pigmentation and prevents ultraviolet-induced cancer. Needless to say, B complex is essential in the functioning of your immune system and your antibody production.

Vitamin K. helps in clotting of blood. It helps prevent dark circles if applied topically and is also a great healer of bruises.

Vitamin C can be found in papaya, broccoli, oranges and orange juice, strawberries, kiwi, grapefruit and grapefruit juice, and even raw peppers. It works wonders for your skin by countering the free-radical damage caused by the Sun’s rays (sun burns). It also enhances collagen production, acts as an antioxidant and reduces fine lines and wrinkles, giving you a youthful look.

Vitamin E is found in sunflower seeds, wheat germ, peanut butter, almonds, canned salmon, canned tuna fish, olive oil, and lobster. It helps reduce wrinkles thereby improving the skin’s texture. It is also an antioxidant and has anti-inflammatory properties. Vitamin E moisturizes the skin, making if soft and supple.

Add these wonder Vitamins to your daily diet and use them topically for that glowing, oh-so-beautiful skin and say goodbye to those expensive spa treatments.