listening to:discussions of a group meeting
word of the day:sheer anger

The worst part about feeling something is when you don’t know what it is your feeling. Emotions are flowing left, right and center but controlling them, let alone understanding them is impossible. It’s the worst turmoil your mind and heart can put your body through.

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At the end of the day, I’ve realised we’ve become strangers to each other. It really hurts to see you act like you just don’t give a bloody damn. You’re becoming like one of those feelings. I’m not understanding you one bit. I cry for you, you don’t even know…i think i’m done wasting these emotions. Anger, bitterness, hate, envy, disgust. Even without a reason to feel like this, when i think of you I do. And it makes me cry. Why, I don’t know…but the point is, it makes me cry inside.

Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.

As always, he presented a bouquet of freshly-picked flowers before greeting her. As always, she counted them. Even though everything was different this time, his habit of adding one extra rose with every meeting hadn’t changed. He noticed her eyes frantically searching for that one added flower, an attempt that would soon prove futile. She stopped her mental calculations, knowing she could trust him. In any case, she was simply stunned to see the sheer size of the bouquet. It symbolized their relationship. It symbolized them.

Music played in the background, far away somewhere. It was soft – almost as if part of the air surrounding them. It played with her emotions; still, she hid it the best she could.

The dim-lit atmosphere was exactly the ambience they were looking for. For a while, they felt like the only two souls alive. Somehow, in each others company, nothing else ever mattered…they could always drown out all the noise.

As beautiful as that evening was, and the countless others spent together, they knew it would never work out. He had only agreed to come for those last few moments so he could salvage some form of sanity. Sanity that would come only in her presence and linger on for a short while after she left. This time, it was different – she wasn’t coming back and he was his only saviour.

He had made his mind up. Within a split second, he pulled himself away from the scene and didn’t bother to glance back at it. He was gone.

It all happened too soon for her to realise. She looked back to see the dashing figure speeding away with the only symbol of their love – the bouquet. Petals flew behind in his wake and the bouquet would soon become a symbol of something unbearable – of nothingness. She would never get to see the beauty of that one extra rose. She would never experience the beauty of their last moment together.

Defeated, she turned back to the table and the empty chair which now seemed miles away from her. She gazed in to it with the hope that he would re-appear in his place and that it was all just a figment of her imagination. Words that should have been spoken were forming as droplets in her eyes. In desperate need to hide the flowing tears, she searched the table for a tissue, except, something else slipped into her hands.

A rose. A wilted, withered rose.

Two major problems with this pic:

1) Date shouldn’t be there
2) It’s at a “funny angle”

But I am still to be liking it

(Shazzy is dangerously in ghazal mode, courtesy the two nights of ghazals she has experienced within a week. Sentimotional-romanticky-oversensitive-unstable type dangerous. D-a-n-g-e-r-o-u-s)

Yet another fabulous night of music. There was variety tonight, as opposed to the first one. But then again, there was no candle-lit fancy shancy dinner.

Still, music ki baat rahi to, both events were at par with excellence. Thoroughly enjoyed meself.

sigh
With all due respect to the wondeful people who were with me to fathom the excellence, koi aur hota to kya baat hoti.

—-
I see myself following in the steps of the great ex-bloggers F and S very soon, and stepping out of the blogging scene for a while. Not that my readers would fret much, it would be oh-so-nice to have one less mumble-jumbler in the cyberworld.

Just reminding you to note the “soon”. You are not spared as yet

listening to: go figure!

Best thing about blogging is.
When you don’t know what to say just post up lyrics.
Today I pick the following song as I’ve heard three (edit: FOUR) different versions of it in the past 12 hours.

(un)enthusiastic drumroll

Mama take this badge from me
I can’t use it anymore
It’s getting dark too dark to see
Feels like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door

Knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door

(GnR, Sheryl Crow, Avril Lavigne and Aerosmith…any others?)

listening to: raat akeli hai – asha bhonsle
word of the day: smile

Contrary to popular opinion, the library is the worst place to study. Where else can you get distracted by the continual influx of “the studious ones”, of which most can definitely pass off as quality eye candy?

And then, there’s the bahana of going to fill up your perpetually khaali water-bottle using the mosquito-infested water thingamajigger.

Don’t know about anyone else, but going to the thingamajigger is a dilemma of a journey in itself.

Passing by the men’s room.

must stop peeking into men’s room (even though the door is so bang-slap-in-your-face open all the time)

C’mon, don’t look at the screen like that. Innocent roaming glances, that’s all.

must definitely stop

listening to: mera mann – nayee padosan
word of the day: ratta

It’s strange, that sense of loss you feel without actually having lost someone. You’re helplessly entangled in a web of contradictions, trying to wheedle your way out with excuses, regrets and what not – before anything has even happened.

Why wait for it to happen? Expect it to happen, but don’t wait.

Shazzy firmly believes that people are responsible for getting themselves stuck in these situations; they are the only ones who can help themselves out.

listening to: dazed and confused – led zep
word of the day: no-show

Yay, thanks once again (you know who you are), the image is finally up and this blog is finally complete once again!

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Just for the record, as I don’t want to be falsely accused of that forsaken P-word, the phrase you read above IS a quote and not by any mere twist of fate, my own creativity speaking. Understood?

—-

Hmmm…it has dawned upon me that, while studying ACF amognst other more important happenings, you can’t really think of much to post (read : whine) about.

Love you guys.