Teenage Love

Desperation;

A word we have come to despise but secretly that's all we feel right now.This strange force to ,no I cannot write what I'm thinking.When that need becomes so paramount so dominant that it pervades my barriers of practicality and logic instead of being maudlin.

Did we not promise to be sensible,not be like everyone and not be damned of all those weaknesses and insecurities that are part of the lives of the desperate dimwits of my age.Its just a phase it shall pass like all those phases.

And if it doesn't and someday the realization dawn upon us that the phase was not just a phase but a time of my life I was supposed to live a particular way,looking for a particular form of happiness,the happiness that would be derived from a specific experience.The dreams convey our apprehensions but when we wake up its just a nightmare.It may never happen so it shall always remain a nightmare or an unfulfilled desire.

PARANOIA

How many of us feel this way .The simple minded is often left out from this agony.But some of us are plagued with this sickness , seldom confused with creativity the incessant chaos that wouldn't cease in our minds.
PARANOIA ,that restless feeling that starts from an unknown part of my body eating my every cell my every tissue.I cannot stop it maybe somewhere inside, I don't want it to.The television is still switched on it blurs and emanates a buzz like sound making me feel peaceful even though I'm not in the same room.The buzz i can still hear always.My bloodshot eyes hover aimlessly at the laptops LED screen and I can hear my mum beckoning me to come sit with everyone.
But my eyes are fixed to the light and my mind is in a self created trance.

Stillness in disguise

Sitting in a room knowing that nothing is going to happen,the sounds around me have no link with me.The roaring sound of the plane,the voice coming beyond the cream coloured walls,the constant cacophony of birds chirping like that of birds in a cage fail to awaken me from my morbid state.
Even the sudden blowing of the wind that makes the clothes almost fly ,i see the red faded cloth struggle to free itself  through the wire meshed door on which crawls a little lizard with half a tail somehow reminding me of my myself as it slithers around with its uncompleteness if that's a word.The aluminium container distracts me from my reptile related thoughts as it sings a song of itself,a song of life that can never be its.
The fly keeps buzzing,the partially opened door lets more light in hoping to show me something.


I am sitting in the middle of the house or maybe closer to it's rear but I can  still hear both the sounds one coming from the road with the swishing of the 'jhaadu' and the distant sound of my neighbours cage bird.
Something yellow enters the room a wasp perhaps come to sting me ,sting me out of my blissful slumber.

strangers in strangeness

Strangers I accidentally meet.Is there a reason do they mean to is it because I am attractive or I'm too
shockingly ugly; one can never

be sure.I tend to remember some faces a little more than the others is it because they are visually more appealing? or

because i feel
I want to know them beyond the realm of our monotonous journey back and forth
hoping that I will meet you ,no see you again,the word you, i think i use it a bit too often,maybe somewhere deep
in my stupid and silly heart I wish to create a
story, no a fantasy in my head ,my head which itself holds a very colourful array of stories with different kind of people
at different
points in my seemingly boring but depressing life ,a life of an underachiever in short.These strangers mostly of the opposite sex but sometimes of the same sex
create a never ending mysterious flow of energy in the short while that we connect in .I wonder sometimes if I may have imagined the give and take of glances but
then I happily hope that my brain has
not yet deserted me,after all I'm still 18 young i believe.I am besotted by their unique characteristics the sometimes fleetingly perverted glances that flow towards me like a dream I
wish would continue a little longer,I am neither a loner nor do I lack friends but yet the impression these strangers leave in my
mind is untraceable and inexplicable,but their presence ,its need,its thirst and the strong but maudlin desire to meet them ,to feel
their presence ,their
eyes again on some part of my face which apparently lacks facial hair is hard to explain well not really its actually very obvious I'm just stupid enough to write about such instances,situations which generally are sent to the dustbin in our brain.To record such strange, eerie no not eerie simply primitive ,idiotic but yet so beautiful, not pretty but beautiful is a feeling to be felt.

fighting anorexia/bulimia

DON'T BE critical

Don't like something ,don't say it out, so what if your debating partner is wearing hideous clothes she loves it and all her friends said it was cute, just say its nice even if its your friend and you care about him or her never tell them the truth especially when her other friends lash out at you calling you names like you're so critical and judgemental.What should we say if someone asks you"how was the movie?" just say nice or oh it was so sweet and cute blah blah blah .... Don't dare say that it was mediocre or cliched or copied or simply made for the typically idiot audience after all you may never know maybe your friend is one of them..!! Always show consensus with people around you because if you try to strike an intelligent educated and non-judgemental discussion with them they will get offended and brand you as critical.We are human and we are emotional we get very easily offended ,hurt and anything and everything can make us hate a person even if it takes just OH i love your dress' to make you love them again and ' your hair needs help ,it looks terrible' to kill them.Life is very hard for  people who like to analyse and critically examine things; sometimes everything.For example its rude if i call someone FAT or OBESE but its okay if I call them thin,skeletal or ANOREXIC so what if anorexia nervosa is an mental illness with the highest mortality rate.

WE are racists

muslims have been misunderstood in our country for a long time now.One would imagine that the 21st century would probably if not completely eradicate the prejudice but atleast mellow down the unreasonable hatred.But things are getting worse our thoughts are getting narrower day by day our ability to sterotype is also increasing.

I have always thought that people in urban india in the metropolitan cities would atleast beleive in the concept of one india .But even the educated the people have a comparitively sane approach to life also differtiate ,abuse and let narrow thoughts creep into their lives,it doesnt matter if they work in an MNC or a BPO or if they watch bbc or cnn .We are a bunch of shameless,self-centerd humans ,we criticise a community on the basis of convenience

The apparent discomfort has suddenly become pleasurable, the pain that was once so profound and irritated me so much has become an anomaly i hardly notice.These broken pieces of my conscience are like the nettles of cacti that i am forced to pass by every time I think of you.