The Idea-smithy

Alone in a cafe, with a glass of white wine,
sitting next to a window overlooking a rain-soaked lake,
with Jean-Paul Sartre lying on my lap
Is that too much of a cliche? A cliche of what?
Sophistication
Boredom
No…Solitude. Detachment. Indifference.
Inside a cliche is the only place that a passionate person is disspassionate.

Eight years after hearing about it for the first time, I finally watched The Vagina Monologues. Wish me a happy birthday since I’m being reborn. On second thoughts, don’t say a word. Just listen as we speak – my vagina and I.
I hated being a woman. The restrictions, the rules, the fears of my mother, [...]

From Sandman: Endless Nights
Most people want like a candle flame, flickering, wavering.
But you want like a forest fire.
Getting what you want and being happy are two very different things.
When there is nothing left to want, all you do is wait till there is nothing left to wait for.
And what when there is the world to [...]

Her parents say that she was born talking.
Then she discovered writing
English grammar compositions
Stories and poetry
Letters and emails
Chats and instant messaging
SMSes, orkut scraps
Resumes and reports
Then she stumbled onto blogging
And anonymous posting
Even editing and deleting
And much later, private publishing
But silence is yet to be learnt.

She picks a gob of mud and aims carefully
Splatch! It spatters down his clean (too clean she thinks) face
Then she sits back to sip her drink
But it makes her choke
Arsenic!
…she thinks in panic
And so the loquacious one is silenced
But it wasn’t fair play!!
Are her final unspoken words

She spoke to me
Not a word said
Yet her silence whispered secrets
only a true mate to my soul could know
As I contemplated her silence
She seemed to blur
I saw her speaking to another
Or was it a reflection in her mirror?
Was it me?
I stayed wondering,
Eternity only, for company

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose
Or perhaps, nothing more to want

When the world is turning on schedule,
And you find yourself standing, apart, detached, watching
That’s when you look at yourself
And realize that your sense of identity
Is as fluid and fleeting as the rest of the world