For no particular reason

May 10

Update 2:

Those lines besides her lips become prominent day by day. White and cloudy and the distinct smell of cigarette made me think twice before I went inside, I had no choice. Cigarette butts filled the ashtray. It must have been months before the ashtray was cleaned. A huge mirror hung on the wall and tungsten bulbs glowed from left and right. The room was only dimly lit.

She looked beautiful still. She was a red head. The first time I met her, I had been mesmerized. Silky and soft and when I cuddled them, she would close her eyes and submit herself to me. Those hairs always smelled strong and powerful like perfume and I will dip myself in them. They’ve started graying, at the base, few millimeters may be. I saw them. Most people wouldn’t notice. Like a painting left in the sun, she had started to fade somehow, and not just from outside, from her inside too.

It was her eyes that attracted me to her. They weren’t normal, they weren’t shiny or anything, they were dull. Something was odd about them. When she was confused, she looked like a confused cat. Her hair would perfectly compensate the void her eyes gave to her face. Most of the time, she would tie them at the back, showing her ears and the small ear rings she wore. When her hairs were let loose, each strand came into life dancing to the fullest as if the summer breeze just filled life into those long plants on a meadow at dusk.

I knew she did not love me anymore. I didn’t love her any more either. We both knew it. I have to see her though. I have no one else to go too. I wanted to hear her tell me that she loved me. And I would tell her I loved her. Our words would have no meanings. It was all fake. She would tell me how different I was from all those other guys she had been. She was good with words. I imagine there must be others too, who she practices her words with. I wouldn’t care because this moment she is with me, this time is mine, she is mine right now. I need love. Fake it be, fake but satisfactory.

Note: I wrote the lines below, one of the drowsy nights coming back from a party. Tried to correct grammar here and there and improvised the lines with the Update above.

Update 1:

Those lines besides her lips are more visible day by day. Soon enough they will be prominent. White clouds and the distinct smell made me think twice before I went inside, I had no choice. Cigarette butts filled the ashtray, huge mirror on the wall with tungsten bulb glowing from left and right. Dimly lit, she looked beautiful still, she no longer had those silky red hair which, as I remember gave a sweet refreshing fragrance of her favorite shampoo. They have started graying. Most people wouldn’t notice. I saw them. Like a painting left in the sun, she had started to lose her charm.

It was her eyes that attracted me to her. They weren’t normal, they weren’t shiny or anything. They were dull instead, like something was odd when looking in her face and you wouldn’t immediately notice what was odd and only after looking closely would you figure out  that it’s her eyes. When she was confused, she gave the look like that of a confused cat. She had beautiful brown hair though, which perfectly compensated the void her eyes made in her face. Red or Brown or a mixture of both, she would most of the time tie it back showing her ears and the small ear rings she wore. When those hairs were let loose, each strands come into life dancing to the fullest as if the summer breeze just filled life into those long flowering plants her hair would give off a fragrance and you could close your eyes and take a deep breath and sigh and feel elated and lost in a different world.

I knew she did not love me anymore. I didn’t love her any more either. We both knew it. I had to see her though. Once in a while, because may be I have no one else to go too. I wanted her fake love, my ears would be desperate to hear her lie about how much she loved me. And I would tell her I loved her too, fake it and mean nothing at all and then I would ask why she loved me? She would go on telling me how great of a person I am, different from all those guys she had been with, better in ways that would not diminish with age.

Fake, love, fake but satisfactory.

May 08 - Moving ahead.

I told him,
After boiling the milk,
After he made me the coffee,
Sitting infront of my computer,
Like any other normal morning,
Sitting right besides me,
In unusually early morning for him,
“I’m leaving in June”
I’m moving out.

He gulped,
Never seen him gulped,
Eyes a bit wet,
Forehead shrunk,
He said he was ok,
“Everyone has to move on and its fine”

I searched comfort in his words,
Hide behind what was said and not what was meant,

New beginning from June 1.

May 6 - Buddha Jayanti

Cooking dinner after a long time. P! ditched me for her new lover after inviting me for dinner, she left cuz she got invited like 10 minutes before I reached her place. But it was nice we had some good chat about things going on lately and its always a big relief to let loose of things in your head.

I’m feeling a surge of positive energy lately, possibly because I read this status on my aunt’s facebook wall

“Thoughts for today:
The thought manifests as the word. The word manifests as deed. The deed develops into habit. And the habit hardens into character. So watch the thought and its ways with care. And let it spring from love , born out of concern for all beings. - Buddha
Happy Buddha Jayanti to all peace loving friends and family.”

Really our minds are like a plain field and whatever thoughts we sow in there, we will reap as our actions.

Happy Buddha Jayanti to everyone.

May 6 - Few random bits

P! behaves so strangely when she is drunk. I have never seen her act this way, may be because she is in love and with the usual uptight mean-ness she carries with her always it isn’t easy to confess and play around. So may be drinking in these situations help her be easy on herself and come out of her shell. She looks like a butterfly lately, constant chitter chatter, making faces and laugh out loud and joking around. She probably has finally found a guy who challenges her authority on different things. This should be exciting and I hope she has a good time with her.

I went to Belgium recently and it was a worthy trip for so many reasons. The usual art, history, people and food are there but I had a real opportunity to look closely deep inside myself. I confirmed that I am weird when it comes to being social with people. I have a terrible time trying to open myself up to people and I seem to go through these thought blockage where I become so nervous that I have nothing to say, virtually empty mind. I had this in few trips before and I had it this time as well. I wonder if this happens to other people.

I plan to write more.

Every word you pour, whether with your ink or with the constant clatter of your keyboard, while I read it makes me want to picture how your eyes and nose and the lips twist and turn while you do it. If it is very animated, high on the coffee and doughnuts or serious and tensed and forced to focus with the deadline hanging near, the pieces, they are always a nice read and a good time pass.

— to an old friend

सोमदत्तको मृत्यु

जब पुलोमाको निधन भयो, ममा त्यति दुख भएन। सुम्निमा पढ्दा बिपिले पुलोमाको अन्तर आत्माको त्यति बिस्लेसन गरेको नभएर होला। उस्को निधन पनि साह्रै सहज ढंगले प्रस्तुत गरेको पाएं। यस्को तुलनामा जब सोम्दत्तको निधन भयो, तब मेरा आखा पनि रसाए र केहि छ्यण पछि आशुहरु पुलुक पुलुक निस्के। मनमा साह्रै पिदा भयो। अगादिका पानाहरुमा रूखका छाया मुनि सुम्निमा संग  सोम्दत्तले बिताएको पलहरुलाई मैले जुन तरिकाले आफ्नो अन्तरमनका पानाहरुमा कोरेको थिए, लाग्यो ति चित्रहरु च्यातिएको पानाका तुक्राहरु मा बिलिन हुने बेला भयो।

अनि एकछिन पछि आफ्नो स्थिति देखेर आफैलाई हासो लाग्यो। धेरैपछि कुनै किताबमा म यस्तो भावुक भए होला। मानिसहरुका आचरण र ब्यबहारले बेला बेला चित्त दुख्ने गर्थ्यो त आज एउटा लेखकले ४८ बर्ष अगाडि जेलमा बसेर ८ दिनमा लेखेको उपन्यासले मन दुखायो। झट्ट सोच्दा त आफ्नो मन कति कमलो रहेछ भन्ने झान पाए। र आशु र हासो कति चादै मनको तरंगसंग उत्पन्न हुे रहेछ। के सांच्चिकै दुखबाट हुने पिडालाई झणिक बनाउन त्यति सरल छ र?

बिपिको यो उपन्यासलाई म फेरि पनि पछि दोह्राप पढ्ने छु।

I don’t belong here,
I am out of place,
Like a plain yellow bulb,
On a Christmas night. 

Still waiting for your pigeon to arrive at my doorstep. Surprised it is late today. May be because I am too far away this time and it does not know its way. I know what message it will bring but still want to see how you would write it.

Secret recipe of Sour Wet Nose

So if you ever not to decide to cook anything, this should be it. Basically this is a what not to cook than what to cook because I want to warn you when you are trying to cook something else, it might just end up looking like this.

To prepare ‘Sour Wet Nose’ you will need

a. Bori
b. Pasta
c. Yogurt
d. Lime
e. Tomatoes
f. Onions
g. Oils 
h.  Chillies

This is how I ended making Sour Wet Nose. So be careful not to follow this.

Prepare the pasta as usual. If you have only one sauce pan like me, the pasta will be cooked before and put aside in a bowl.

Once the saucepan is free, put water and get it to boil. Then put the lime juice and broken chillies in it. After some time, you would want to taste it. However remember!! When you go near the saucepan it will smell sour and hot at the same time and its so strong that your nose will start complaining. If it didn’t you are lucky, you don’t have to read from the beginning because its not going to taste good anyways.

Now the vegetables would probably go in it, the tomatoes, the onions and the ‘Bori’. After they are boiled, when you would be surprised because the colour of the whole dish is still watery… very very watery with plain looking vegetables and waterrrry something. So it is very normal to think something is wrong. So I would advice against adding any yogurt in it to bring colour in it.  If by mistake you added some yogurt for the sake of experimenting… read on.

I am sure you will be nervous if you’ve done everything like I did. So just take a bit of the whitish vegetables and take a bit of cooked pasta, put it in bowl so that it looks like this. Not all of them, remember don’t to make a fool out of yourself and waste half an hour of effort.

It didn’t taste good did it! Now throw away the remaining soup-ish thing and fry the pasta with egg and be happy and get some sleep. More experiments to continue tomorrow.