it is on spectacularly bad days that you realise that bitches are usually the ones who got up in the morning realising that they have a whopping bad hair day coming up.
Or felt that delayed whoosh of air deflating from their lungs when their love life went down the crapper,
Or when they were on the verge of being fired.
Actually it doesn't even have to very major. Just midly irriating stuff that builds up, making you believe no, absolutefuckingknow that the world owes you a long overdue favour. and you don't have to be nice to ANYONE. since that is the only bloody fundamental right you've got anyway

so my sister left yesterday. Primary weapon is gone, and all you have left is secondary weapon, me. It still hasn't sunk in that I won't see her for atleast another 3 years.
Not unless I am a good girl and save for a round trip to New York. So while I'm giving flap to my parents about webcam and voice chat and how i'll fix up everything so that they won't miss her at all, I'm thinking "all you have now guys is me," secondary weapon than tends to blank out all the time.
I don't know how to handle dad, she did. I know how to handle mom, but only to a point. So when both of them put on the waterworks there is precious little I can do.
Except inanely chatter about above mentioned webcams and voice chat. and then crack even worse ones to my sister on the phone about how she is Krishna leaving bridavan forever.
I can't handle emotions. real ones in anycase. It always has to be lalala doesn't it. secondary weapon is good when it comes to having fun and making people laugh. My talents end there.
so its obvious I shall miss my sister in heaps. but I still had to fight with her, even when there were just a few days left till the big departure.
and then yesterday she asked me to "take care" of the parents...right, like how? since I'm running off to b'bay at the first possible break because I can't bear being the one holding the parental bag of incessant worry.
there is a name for people like me. "bitches"

the 'punched in the guts' feeling is not going away. NOW, i feel sad. talk about delayed reactions

If sages and time as sages say
Are things that cannot be
The fly that lives a single day
Has lived as long as we

But lets us live while yet we may
While life and love are free
For time is time and runs away
Though sages disagree

(written by anubha in my college notes)

Diary entry from 1st year college

"Suddenly that void is back. The need to talk endlessly with someone about nothing and everything. Restless, disturbed. I'm not usually like this. I want to sit down and feel one with everything again. I've lost it. The feeling of being involved and yet removed, aloof.

Probably all the petty bitching is getting to me. Making me angry, hurt, sad, bewidered. What keeps hitting back is that I can feel sadness again. I don't want to. Its useless I know. I can't believe that people want to bitch, scream, rant at each as if we were specimens of the lowest scum ever born.

Its okay to be disliked. Period. But an endless torrent of ugliness can be quite depressing. When you keep seeing people in their worst possible moods. It feels so utterly pointless to be stuck in a glacier of ugliness, without respite.

The surface is smooth. Blue skies, green meadows and colourfully clothed teenagers. But its different when you look closely. More stillted, unnatural, stiff. Going through the motions its supposed to.

I see people cheat, lie, decieve each other, see the satisfaction glint in their eyes like they have scored a point. Mean 10 to love. And so the isolated patches of bitterness. It makes me think, why am I here.

I should be somewhere out there laughing, singing, playing with the inborn sense of pride in being a creature of life and loving and then I keep reverting back to the original question. "Why the hell do people do it?" If it is for the momentary high of being authentically peverse and crooked I may as well start digging a hole for my faith in people.

As far as I am concerned I'd rather just sit alone and talk to my invisible friends again. Talk about nothing and everything, endlessly without restraint and get the venom out of the system..."


How sweet was I...

up to 8 fags a day...hmmm. state of utter boredom thus depression. but final solution I realise is in length of hair and weather.

Items to convince parents on:
1) That I shall be living with hirsute males in Bombay..no they are not bad and shall not take advantage of me
2) that everything is not going to stapled into place by the time I go there...
3) that bulki is a goddess who has cast her benovelent eye on me, and nothing goes wrong on her watch
4)that I love them though by going to b'bay I am doing something unforgivable
5) I have more brains than it looks