This is how I covered my new sketch book.

One of those days when nothing is done.

25th September

Last year, today was to be the last day of my life.

The Lovers and Memory

I
You, my fake lover,
Erased bits of you
From me
Willingly.
Plucked the light
Out of the sun for me,
Drained the love
From the rain
For me.
You came in my dream
This morning,
The sinful embrace
Leaves me mourning.
You lied.
I'’ll never trust you
And your memory,
Which appear invariably.

II
You, my distant forbidden fruit,
Are imprinted on me.
You, never let me know you,
never wrote or called,
Never lied,
But remain forever
The liar.

III
You, who loved me,
And let me be,
Were a dream,
Mine and yours,
But not all dreams
Are dreamt.
You walked with me,
And still do in memory,
You will never die.

IV
You, who don'’t know,
What you mean to me,
Are more than what you think,
You are the sun - XIX embodied,
Joy, poetry, fondness childlike.
You are not yet memory.

Inspired by a post on M's blog.
Love the format itself.
I think there will be more of these.
There is one already
in my head.

Letters to Lovers

I
To my fake lover,
There is always a pocket in me
Full of love
When you were near
It was empty
Now its full
I don't know which way is better

II
To the one I cannot love,
You, the forbidden fruit
forever tempt me
from your land far far away
from your presence in the absence.
Your name, your perfume
like your memory
forever lingers
around me.

You, who I cannot love,
I love so dearly.

Come, live with me.

III
You, who love me,
and yet let me be,
are brave and true.
I pray for you,
to find someone who
will love you.

IV
Those who don't know
I love you,
Let me just say it,
I love you

Inspired by a post on M's blog.

Note to self and God

Dear God,
After 1 hour of non-stop riyaz I feel like a good girl worthy of some sleep.
Help me and other young and confused minds to focus on things they want to
do and achieve.
Most people my age are distracted , disappointed and depressed.
Help us to face our trouble and refrain from the indulgences which make us sacrifice things we strive for. May we never have to do anything that makes us guilty.
Thank you, for the 2 silly girls who follow me with their smiles every evening and treat me to some of the best times I can have. I ask you to always keep those smiles on their faces, not just for me to see, but for the whole world to benefit. I'm sure the world won't be pretty without them.
Thank you, for having people to inspire me from lands far far away. For the people who make me write mail after mail,post after post, poem after poem (even in my broken English and torn French)
Thank you, for all the art I have been fortunate to experience, without which I wouldn't be me.
Thank you, for all the complexities in my life, all the heart breaks and difficult situations. Without these, the story of my life wouldn't be as interesting.

Thank you for ice creams, colour, dogs, cats, music, Yoga and Kathak instructors, calculators, and memory.
Love you,
chamki

Divya, you will never be a dancer

Today's class was disappointing. I was disappointing.
When will I take things seriously?
My attitude pisses me off.
It's time I do something big and shake myself.

I don't have a cell phone anymore. I gave it up.
So people who are not able to reach me should email.
I won't be wasting time on the internet- Only 15 mins in the morning and 15 mins in the night.
(This is not the big thing. The big thing will be decided after tomorrows class)

Peoms and the Mammy

Poems can be upset
They have lives, you see
You pull them a bit to the left
And out of the window they be.
They stand on their head
And feed off your bed,
Listen to your plants sing
Sniff leftovers from the bin.
You think they’re thin
And will squeeze in
But they’re not
I have tried,
And I’ve fought.

Tell the Mammy,
Poems are many,
She may not like any,
But pretty poets
A few.
And disagree
If she dare be
Ask her to take a look at you!

The book

The ink pen on rest.
Email arête.
I spend evenings out instead
with friends
a bucketful of sky
And a tub of ice cream

Life has been a strange kind of fun
I don’t even know I’m numb
No scribbles
A few doodles
And a strange mix of time
I squeeze in a few lines
But I’m just busy being busy

The tree
The blue and
The new white cloud
Transport me
To a land far far away
Of thoughts
And impossibility

But thoughts, like air bubbles
Escape.

The sandwich
The cookie
The indulgence
The stupidity
The books
The smell of glue
The bits of paper
That flew

The dogs that drool
The kids from school
All have a place
At least I have a book
My saving grace

This is what I do every weekened

Dha dhin dhin dha, dha dhin dhin dha, ta tin tin ta, dha dhin dhin dha.
Taa kit ta , taa kit ta, dhin na, taa kit ta, taa kit ta, dhin na.

pictures belong to their respectful sites.

Out of anyone, can anybody find their home?

Warning: Diary Style
Today was just one of those days - Blah!
I said all the wrong things.
I mean I meant to say
them differently.
But I sounded pompous-
like someone I knew
a little while ago.
May be it's because
I have been listening
to our music these
days.
But if I could tell you guys that
I didn't mean them like this
would you believe me?

I hate it.
Don't know what the IT is.
But it's all around me these days.
A feeling of not controlling things,
of not knowing what is happening and why.
I wish it was as simple as you call it- PMS.

House hunting

Fishing is updated! Yes, I haven't been writing to put up on blog, but my notebook is getting filled quickly. Check them before you miss them says cherry me on a dull day.
Words On Rent ready for launch.

From my notebook

Post Secret # 2

Dear Liar,
I know this will never reach you just like me. I don't know where you are and how you are. I hardly know who you are.
I have to say this. I love you more than myself. More than my life. More than ice cream. More than the hung-over breakfasts at Crepe Station.
I am writing this letter and posting it to a random address.
I know it will reach you in some way.

Yours,
XXX

Liar = SA.
not to be confused with S.
he didn't lie, I just called him liar.

Chamki's Logo

How is this as Chamki's logo? I like the simplicity

Thank yous

What does your playlist say?

On a day I wear black around all my eyes
and fill my bag with coloured paper
my playlist says:

On a day like today
Where did you go
Bedshaped
Sunshine
This is the last time
Your eyes open
Everybody's changing
We might as well be strangers
Lost in translation
Nothing in this world

all of the above are songs.