Dream Diary #3

I stop for a rum and chocolate cake somewhere in Jodhpur Park. I'm supposed to be meeting Piu because I'm leaving the next day. The Dripping play is going to be staged at Madhusudan Mancha in a couple of hours. I'm walking through Jodhpur Park, then I'm on a bus at Dhakuria and Kalua is telling me what everyone on the streets already knows - the zombies are coming for us. Bhaskar is not there but his voice projects through the bus, saying, "We have to run." Arijit misses the bus because he was rolling a joint and didn't see the bus. They ate him in front of our eyes. Kalua looks sad.

I suddenly remember that I left my bag and my cousin sister in the dressing room at the theatre. I get off the bus and run back. My shoes are slippery, but I can't take them off because there are dead leaves and dead limbs everywhere. I get lost almost immediately. Then I find my cousin, who is a child again. She makes a fuss, so I pick her up and run with her in my arms. She squeals in delight. Five minutes of running and she's adult again and fucking heavy. I put her down and pull her along by the hand. She is reluctant about running but caves when I tell her how important it is that I reach the theatre in time to perform.

Then she's gone, and the zombies are right behind us, running with geometrical precision up and down walls, climbing trees and eating crows. Now it's me, Trisha Barua and two elderly people who we have to keep slowing down for, but of course we can't leave them behind. Through a long tree-lined avenue we can see Somak, Soumashree and Kalpan, all dressed in bright purple, doing their scene. Our panic intensifies. Following is the conversation at this juncture.

Me - Fuuuuck.

Trisha B. - Run!

Me - Zombies! Sitting on a park bench, eating that dead person who looks like bald Thakurda!

Trisha B. - Oh the play's gonna be fucked.

Me - No, Dr.Lal will be praised by critics for staging it during and despite the zombie attack.

Trisha B. - (fearfully) - Oh we are dead.

Me - We could still make it.

Trisha B. - Sir will kill us, though.

Me - I wonder what scene they got to.

*Behind us, zombies jump on the elderly couple, tear their heads off and eat them*

Me - We should go around a different route, this one is filled with zombies.

Trisha B. - But Dr. Lal?

Me - I'd rather we were late than dead. (hehahah)

Trisha B. - But Dr. Lal.

Me - Ok, we'll run through the zombies. I hope the play is worth it.

*We run. I wake up shivering with terror. We arrived AFTER the interval, so the play was ruined.*

Dream Diary #2

I'm thirteen again, but this time I'm strangling people. Nice people, but they pointed and laughed when I came to school without my clothes. I got dressed and they weren't laughing when their faces went blue, oh no.

Bloop

Gtalk statuses, in the order that i saw them :

1. happy
2. just because
3. god bless you
4. I'll cry instead
5. berate jabo
6. is so evil
7. listening to ziggy marley


my status was Busy.

Dream Diary #1

Weird dream I. I kill two children. I decapitate them. Not clear if that's how I killed them or if that was incidental. Anyway, I then spend an hour of dreamtime running around trying to hide the heads, which are in a clear plastic bag. Hmm, I think harriedly, should I drop them from the roof, let them splatter on the street and confuse people into thinking they were vegetables? Do I roll them down the stairs of another building and hope no-one associates it with me? Do I just keep them in my room, take them out later and dump them somewhere? Decisions, decisions. Possibly inspired by Dexter, except I know the kids, they live near my house. Arr.

Day in July

Interesting twenty-four hours. Studying, check. Movie-with-popcorn, check. Teaching, check. Tattoo, fucking hell yeah check.

no worries

Hakuna fucking matata, okay? Now get me drunk already.

Stumble

Remind me why I even started to give a flying fuck?

Summer

Went to Someplace Else. Ekuil-i-brium played, they were good, it was fine. Hip-pockets started playing, I look around, everyone's turned twenty years older. Including the band.

Audition happened. Thank the Universe I picked a nonentity of a play, because I riffed around with the lines more than Bill Gates on Guitar Hero. Also, sang. Like a bullfrog with amusing forehead contortions.

Ran around during a transport strike. Private car drivers made an accumulated fortune today.

Holy shit, it's been six months already. And almost a year for the wife and spice.

So much has changed. I'm no longer allowed to impose bans on puns. I have to always sit with my legs crossed during international calls. And my adored spice totally respects me - the both of me.

To conclude. What did the vada pav say to the customer in the Star-Wars themed restaurant?

"Luke, I am your vada."

(copyright, trademark, mine mine I made this up mine)

Fiction. Sing you rain.

You ever had a friend you used to be tight with and then later you don't give a damn? They stop giving a damn too and then you're unreasonably pissed off, but what's up with that, you should've seen that coming from a mile away. And after all that's over, you meet, accidentally almost, and it's so weird and yet so fitting that you no longer even feel like hurting them. Like the bitterness is gone, like the like and the love and the heart are now just online emoticons you make to each other, like there is nothing beyond a forwarded text and a set of insider jokes lying rusty for lack of opportunity. There's that relief, that you don't have to put up with That Shit anymore. Forgive me Father for I have not hated but I have stopped caring and sometimes that is infinitely worse. No going back now, says the fortune cookie. She will be loved, but frankly my dear, I don't give a flying fuck. I will and am loved, but that is a whole different ball-game and all the seats are taken already. Confucius say, If you don't know life's a bitch, get the fuck out of town. Confucius was a wise, wise man.

There. Is. Nothing. Not even the desire to kill violently.

Love

Wish you were here.

For my Valentine

You know what I'd like? To have a few hours with you, when I could explain why I like you the way I do. I see us, sitting hand in hand on the beach on a stormy night. You'd be in your wheelchair, I'd be wearing something that flaps in the wind. I'd apologize for having to make you like this, for having to break your legs, break your teeth, cave in the back of your head. You'd look at me with that silly grin you have now, the one I love - it's so unconditional, so different from how you used to smile, the half-indifferent, half-contemptous smile. Your thin shoulders would twitch in the cold of the sea-mist - you don't like wind and water the way I do - and I'd talk to you, tell you the first time I saw you, sitting there with a cigarette and an attitude the size of Brazil. How I instantly wanted you because I knew you wouldn't want me. I may be sick, my darling, but you're the cripple. Don't look hurt, you know where we are. This is the sea, it is night, we are alone. Why wasn't I good enough for you then?

The thing is, I brought you down. I followed you home, I lured you away, and like a fool you followed. Then I took you apart, and I realized how you function. It was sad. I stopped loving you then.

But I'd already broken you, no? What else could you do but stay? What was I supposed to do with you? I didn't break your jaw out of anger, darling, I just wanted to shut you up for a while. Just for a little while. The screams had to stop, I couldn't hear myself think anymore.

You breathe harsher than you used to. Is it the cold, or are you afraid?

It's a beautiful night, eh, love? The kind that makes your heart pound with the longing of it.

Tide's coming up soon, they warned us to stay above the low line. We should go now.

Waves washing in. The rocks can bear it, but they will be sand beneath someone's feet one day. They will crumble and break and go out to sea and find their way to the bottom. They'll filter through the sea-bed and try to go to the centre of the earth. They'll be liquefied with the heat, but their particles will make it.

The moon's just hanging there, like some kind of ancient dim lantern. I see the black and purple haze of clouds swirling around the sky, I taste the coming storm in the strong, cold wind, and the fierce joy of it makes me want to weep.

I'm going to go back to the house now, love. I've had enough. I can't take this anymore.

Stay here. I know it's low, yes. Don't clutch at my shirt, you're embarrassing yourself now. Of course we're below the level of the tide. You're not that stupid yet.

Let go, I said. Concentrate on the waves coming in. They'll carry you out, hopefully, and if you're lucky, you'll miss those rocks. I'll take the wheelchair back now, thank you.

Don't cry. Be a man. There, there. I'm not an emotional kind of girl, you know. But it's Valentine's Day tomorrow, in a few minutes now actually. Look at me, getting all sentimental.

Oh well. Goodbye, sweetheart.

Us and Them

they told me a child of five could understand quantum credit theory. i said, fetch me a child of five and have her explain it to me.

they said god made humans in his own image. i said, look how that turned out.

they said that there's a line and limits that must not be crossed. i said, then i'll make my own bloody limits. if i feel like it.

they told you not to come near me. you walked towards me anyway.

they said it's not worth it. but no-one even knows what 'it' is.

i told you not to dream, not that much. you said, we are our own dreams.

what the hell does that mean?

that means me.

at least, that's what they said.

Two Thousand and Ten

Dear Universe,

In this new year I ask for only one thing, and that is the ability to keep myself from fucking something, anything up when I know I got it good. Please, sisters of fate. All I'm asking for is happiness and the freedom to screw up under my own steam. I realize that that's kind of a paradox but still. I'll be the best I can manage if you send a few chunks of luck my way.

love,

the-kid-you-never-saw