everything in one post

Sometimes what I really love about Bangalore is the ability to be away from a lot of unnecessary nonsense of Bombay and big cities that need to make news out of you. Things get picked up too soon like fast food quickly made, very little flavour, too much tampering and fancy packaging. I've had two great weeks with Bertha and Henk and Chris working on pure movement, stage lighting and an environment- an installation to dance within. It reminds me why I moved away from the place where things really happen. I don't want to live in a city where you could spend a week looking at other people's work- its good and all that but I want make my own you see and this place has that balance. Bertha bertha bertha. I wish she would stay back, she could (with her husband) move into my house. She doesn't say much but provides a quite place that induces intensity into the most frivolous mind. I'm trying to say something like she is honest or genuine but these words aren't enough. True could be close.2008 has begun well with focus and less Brigit Jones' feelings. I was Chutki yesterday for a play at some NASSCOM meeting- good food and free booze, the perfect way to end the week with a long weekend. I have Monday off and I'm buying a new table for my room. I love being busy.
Bertha and EG PC's work
EG PC Double Points video

Today is one of the days you feel like a coldplay song. I have that feeling that something somewhere is going really wrong.

Slipping in before class begins

I want to talk about my Sim City Life and the idea of recreation - Forum Mall. This place is reserved for that. Plenty of stationary, music, clothes you look good in and never buy because of the tag and Food World!

Thank God its Monday!

I think I'm the only person in the world who is happy to wake up at 5 and go to rehearsal at 6 followed by class at 8 on a monday morning. It was a strange morning though. I couldn't see beyond the windscreen of the autoriskshaw because there was a thick layer of white all around me. Bangalore is bloody foggy in the mornings, the kind of foggy that makes you look like you are smoking without a cigarette. I know I've been describing a lot of Bangalorian weather these days but its the first time I'm experiencing a winter.
I've also discovered I just love being busy from one thing to another. Yesterday was busy too. A party where few turned up and the booze was too much too handle. People who turned up on time were drunk by 8 and I don't even remember much of what I said. It is quite difficult to avoid your flatmate's house party.

Therefore,
Thank God its Monday!


Virgo Love Horoscope (Aug 23 - Sep 22)
Be careful about who you share your private thoughts with this weekend. You may feel safe unloading your emotions with someone who may not be as interested as you think. Try to stay on the positive side, especially if you're just getting to know someone and are interested in becoming closer.

Rs. 10 extra, or one and a half meter?

Well.. I was very determined to make this post about the insensitivity I've been noticing around myself these days. No, its not the endangered species, state of stray dogs, women... its about Autorickshaw drivers in Bangalore. Yesterday was a strike, hardly! They refuse to take you where you want to go 92% of the time on regular days so the strike was more of a relief. One expected them to pose outside malls like Kannada film heroes and thats exactly what they did- some with newspapers, bidis , cell phones and etcs. We waited outside Forum mall 'patiently observing' their attitude for about an hour and a half. At 6pm when the strike was officially over I declared that an ambulance would be a cheaper and more effective way of reaching home safe. I don't know how these guys live with themselves night after night having earned money begging for it and almost pulling it out of people's pockets. How they form a breed of people so similar in ethics amazes me. I'm really curious what makes them all want to drain money from the other person. I'm sure there must be some reason. I'd like a dictaphone to do some interviews. Where do they think the money in my bag comes from? Is it really boring riding around the city silent? Is that why they want to negotiate money or have an argument? The last guy who asked me where I wanted to go and pretended that the answer would matter got an exciting reply- I told him I would like to go to his house and beat the shit out of him in front of his wife. I don't want to be saying things like this man, but thats how frustrated you get with them. I'd like to discover this one place, just one where every auto driver would like to go, some kind of paradise?
But the post, sadly, is not about this kind of insensitivity. Its about the sweet things that travel from my brain into your kitchen through the imaginary chimney on the left. Its about me unable to receive text messages missing rehearsal for a play I'm currently involved in. Its about walking in an autorickshaw who finally agreed to go to Mantri Classic in the dark corners of Bangalorian universe with 2 slippers on and walking out with just one of them. The other one slipped out when no one was watching, escaping the burden of its existence. And... its about fame:

Hi,
We would like to extend an invite to you for Barkha's show, 'We the People' for this Saturday (12/01). The show is on the blogging culture in India. Largely, discussing the New Brave World Of Blogs. How something that was supposed to be a personal diary has now become a social phenomenon. What kind of influence do blogs have? Do we need an authority to govern and monitor blogs? and more...

We would be highly obliged if you could please take out some time and join us for the show in Delhi on Saturday.

Your views on the subject are of great value. Please let us know if this is possible.
Thank you

Dxxxxx Sxxxxxxx

yours quirky alone,
chamki

The things you know from my life to your kitchen # 2

Today,
I walked out of the house in my friend's slip ons instead of mine. His slip ons are size 9 and I usually, under very very normal circumstances wear a size 5. I'm at class unsuccessfully blogging at lunch hour about the looks I'm getting. My Dutch teachers think it must be an Indian thing to do, others think I do it to be cool, or hippie. Meanwhile my James' email says:
Sometimes D you will meet people who resent the light that comes from you.
Pity them.

pity pity pity
chamki

The sweet things from my life into your kitchen

Today,
I almost choked on my hair while dancing.

22nd December
can be the longest night of
the year
when you meet someone strange
in a strange way,
count the time from one airplane to
the next in kisses
and study the transfer of heat in hugs.

A not so full moon shines on two
holding hands on the wet roof.
Beer soaked pants and dry lips.

Sometimes a moment's magic is not in the moment but the words that describe it.

22nd December IS the longest night in the year.

Every week I get something like this

General Weekly Love Horoscope

Tender feelings can be easily bruised this weekend as moods swing so fast that there's no time to explain them. The ups and downs of romance may undermine security in relationships, but a flexible attitude makes it possible to adjust quickly and maintain one's balance. Seek new experiences without shocking someone you love.

Thats all the love in my life. Not one email contains the word love, not one message, not one phone call. So my flatmates hear about it all the time. They think I'm the perfect candidate to star in How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days.So we got a copy and watched it. I've made notes even. I can't receive messages again and I'm glad this one time.There is a lot that has been happening. Too much to handle actually. From being subjected to a lot of gossip about people you know, about people you don't know- Bollywood gossip, to heading an institution called FOLA (frustrated one sided lovers association) to being gifted Tarot card decks, treats, wine, fights with parents, meeting up old friends, cursing all the friends who didn't meet me (plenty) and a pleasant walk around the area I live on New Year eve, I've done it all, in style and drama, TECHNICOLOUR I say.

Class has been great the past few days. I've been in a trance. I don't really know what I want to say about this but when I'm dancing some thoughts come to me. I can't say they are entirely mine because the music and the teachers influence them.

1. pretty things are not beautiful, they are a cluster of pretty things.
2. to please is easy. (I dont want to)

3. Extreme physical movement conditions you. Its addicting and you can have withdrawal symptoms.

4. european contemporary dance is like scribbling. it doesn't want to say anything meaningful. It doesn't want you to think over things, find symbols that relate to your everyday. It makes movement and thats it. It makes a space fluid, compact, thick and it plays with time, the only things present at the point of the performance. Its egoless, very conceptual.

5. light begins from dark.

6. i don't want what i wish for.

7. Writers make characters out of themselves in their real lives. Finding comfort in defining for themselves and those around what kind of person they are.

8. Two windows of a train are never the same shade of yellow.

9. I am (so much) better off writing my thoughts in a book then saying them aloud or texting them to random creatures of the night.

10. Candles with big flames look like they are crying.

11.I'm afraid of people who make promises.

12. I'm my best self alone. I've decided to be that way.

13. some nights in Bangalore are extremely cold. Almost unreal. On such nights if you go out cycling the only way to keep warm is to push your body to its extreme. The faster you go the colder your skin gets and gently a warmth rises somewhere within. This warmth is the only peace that can put you to sleep.

14. I see no glory in loneliness and pain.

Thats my number bulleted head for those of you who still wander about here. I'm seriously reconsidering the existence of this blog.

chamki

I'm back from Bombay. It didn't seem like much of a vacation. No, happy holidays don't exist anymore. Though bipolar behaviour, issues and prayers do. So, I'm planning to substitute unnecessary jabber with blogging as quickly as I can get connected to the internet at home. There will be more postcards, so people can still leave their postal address with me.

a little less love ,
chamki

Love is something that happens in that part of the brain which is between your ears plugged with an ipod.

Virgo Horoscope

(Aug 23 - Sep 22)

A shady character may let you down, but don't waste your energy getting too upset. You may not have as much control over others as you wish and you'll only make yourself unhappy if you let your emotions get the best of you. Instead, manage your time effectively and stay focused on your own work

Your response : Amen

I'm a genius

This is proof.






this is kirsten and me painting on the terrace saturday sun, nick drake and etc

too bored to describe,
chamki

Hi blog,
I hope you find this letter in the pink of health wherever that is. Secondly, I miss you. Life has taken us away from each other but you are still right in the middle of my heart. I think of you when I see the stars on my terrace.When I'm sunbathing on Sunday mornings painting or having a sucky day. I still love you even though hormones find the best of me and I find every other member of the opposite sex delicious. The latest addition to these collectibles is my contemporary dance teacher. I don't really want anything to do with them, no really, listen http, stay... its just thoughts. Promise. God promise. You are my only one, through the ups and downs and the round abouts.
yours truly, madly deeply,
chamki

Nobody! Not oven Google, God and Wiki are able to help me with Dance theory homework today. This stuff is stuff nobody writes about. I'm saying that from searching on the world wide web on 3 very special occasions. Once from a cyber cafe! Yes I tried. Thats the amont of effort I have put in. But no! Santa doesn't see me weeping at the extremely bright laptop LCD screen this moment.

Who knows what is the kinesiological sense in doing a plie, barre or battement. Anatomical significance? biomechanical purpose?
No one. Not one of the oooooo pages of goooooogle knows anything.

All this within 2 weeks of classes with a pixie dance teacher. What is my paap, bhagwan? lightening, thunder and you hear God avoiding the question. Yes avoiding makes a sound.

Ladies and Gentlemen, May I have your ...

The way I'm going with posting mail to random people it seems I have single handedly decided to revive the snail mail system. So if you are interested in receiving some scraps of brown paper with stuff on it from me then mail me your postal address. You could also in return ask for my postal address and mail me some Indian Rs. 5 stamps in an envelope. I run out of them everyday!

Stuff = random poem I like, or wrote.
Stickers, art, doodles, excerpt from book etc. etc. and
particularly etc.

The Silent Laugher Theory

So.. I had an insane day. I didn't go to college because I woke up not feeling myself. All I felt was pain. yes it was one of those days. The morning Sms to Shanthi- Reason for abscence : Acute pain in knees, shoulder, elbows and feet. Divya. And it was much more than that. I felt muscles that I didn't know off in places I didn't know off ache.
So I woke up barely able to lift the pressure cooker with one hand I cooked myself some rice for lunch. A Combiflam helped me go back to dreamland where I rested for the next five hours. Waking up with a throbbing head and some community celebration at my temples I decided I needed to get some stuff done like Lev does. Lev from Tales of mere existence? Nevermind. Prashanth and Dandee suggested a little herb would do the trick for the sacrifice rituals in my head to stop. Well, what happened after that is the story of my next book release. I've discovered it, unraveled it the story behind the silent laugher. You know people who crunch their faces into a shape that looks like a crushed packet of chips and vibrate when they are laughing, these people my friends are silent laughers (SL). They laugh in silence while they gently shake under the impact. The discovered and unraveled theory is that these people are crunching their stomachs while laughing. They are actually exercising when laughing. Their squeezed stomachs don't let them laugh which makes them SLs. Hari, on the other hand discovered that Hindustani singers when singing with phlegm in their throats can't control all notes in their singing and their singing gets a little less like their singing and a little different from their singing.

yours truly,
stoned like combiflam

Movies do something to me. Movies always do something to me.
I've just watched Constantine alone in my friend Hari's house while he is in Hyderabad attending a wedding. I spent the day alone, doing my laundry, trying to keep the cat happy and out of the house at the same time. I've told you guys that I have been listening to Clap your hands and say Yeah! one of their songs has the word Satan being chanted throughout. I thought it was all fun till I saw the movie I saw today. This song has been on my mind and playlist since Wednesday. Friday, I saw a movie that spoke about death on a holiday. I've finished drinking 2 litres of water in the past 2 hrs and my throat is still dry. Since the past 3 days I've been unable to receive any messages from anyone. At first I thought people just don't care, then I thought nobody loves me, but now it all seems to fit in some larger plan. My only contact with anyone I know and could trust is gtalk! So I'm typing here till someone comes online and talks to me and saves me from Mammon. I did some drawings while watching the film and I can't look at them. They aren't anything close to the images in the film but I know what they are and I'm really really scared.

But how fascinating is the concept of being submerged to be able to make a transition smoothly. I mean I'm not particularly impressed by the movie but that doesn't say anything about feeling. I'm feeling whether I like the film or not. Thank God for commercial breaks!

The only other reassuring thing is that all this might be true for Christians, and I'm not one. So I should just think myself to sleep, this is a film, you are feeling, you are the infinite, there is no God, only the everything and the nothing, only one indescribable complete.

People have strange issues and some of them include obsessive grammar correction. I'm pretty bad at grammar and spelling but I find these blogs very amusing. They are up at the Explore section. Please feel free to... well... explore them and while you are at it don't forget to laugh your heads off literally except for the suicide food site. Its not funny(the site claims)
However, I think an obsession with the lowercase L is a bit too much.

Please for God's sake do not kiss on someone else's kiss

Oh transparent plates,
Of silicates,
Heated to great temperature…
I love you so,
I can’t let go,
You do tricks with my,
Blood pressure!

XXX

says Canthz_B for glass kissers

After being a victim of Needus Tocollectus and Stationary Freakomania, I've recently been diagnosed as Quirkyalone. The quiz said
How quirkyalone are you?
Your score was 99. Very quirkyalone:
Relatives may give you quizzical looks, and so may friends, but you know in your heart of hearts that you are following your inner voice. Though you may not be romancing a single person, you are romancing the world. Celebrate your freedom on National Quirkyalone Day, February 14th!

While I've been drawing and painting, in a city not so far away my father is very ill. I don't know if it is the distance or my complacency towards the situation or hope that makes me think he will be alright. I called him up and spoke to him, I'm worried yes but I can't deny that I feel he will be okay soon. I can't decide if I'm wrong or right in feeling what I do.

To my favourite boys Leo and Hari.

kiss the grass goodbye
because you are a bird
and birds are meant
for the sky.
leap
and think not why
the flutter of your
wing is a ripple in
the sea is the
setting sun and the
flower and the bee
is love is confetti.
leap.
because we are everything,
we can't say can't.

random burst of affection after watching Meet Joe Black.

Saturday November 24th 2007.

The tree outside my window is shivering in the cold
its leaves glistening in the sun like fish scales.
I've seen my classmates in my dream headless
and already been laughed at for the morning song request
A new winter day has begun
and we're listening to coming back to life.

but clap your hands and say yeah is so much better

Task of today:

Put on music you like. Just loud enough to be the background of things.
Now log on to flickr and see pictures of the non photographer types.
Its like being God. A little glimpse into peoples lives.

I wrote about the people I saw today. Their smiles, their friends, their eyes. Some really happy people, some really bored, others just figuring how to record their lives. Some projecting, some protecting, sharing.

This is what I really want to say

(taken from today's emails and chats)

Everyday a lot of post and emails go out from me into the world. Postcards, brown envelopes and wishes. Thoughts are not pushed out of my system to vent. They are shared, just as thoughts, as things that happen, things that are done. I don't posses them so they aren't personal.
Its a lovely day. Nights are getting cold but today is bright and sunny with cold breeze blowing.Bangalore is a lovely place sometimes where people come together over alcohol and weed. They don't know each other but they seem like they've known each other all along. They don't feel that silence is strange or expectant and gel so lazily with each other like bobbles in a lava lamp slowly gliding from conversation to conversation.When they leave they say goodbyes to everyone present. I've never seen so many people under one roof, happy and alive.

I'm listening to Clap your hands and say YEAH!

Man i was missing bombay so much when i woke up that i psyched myself out of bed. i had visions of the sea and feelings of the sea breeze blowing at haji ali. but i want to go to college with books for a day and I want to see Mahima and Pallavi there and I want to attend a class of Hermeneutics or Poetry with Canteenwala.I want to go to the coffee guy who sells coconut water.I want to go to Experimenta all alone with long walks around Oval Maidan. I want Juhu Beach and writing in the sand. I want to meet J in his room. Nowhere else is he J. I want to stand outside Ranjana Apartments and think of the many times I've walked into that place without knowing it. Of the times I've walked out unwillingly. And how far away I am from that place in Khar. I want to take an 83 bus home from Peddar Road. I want to go to Andoras misty moon day. I want to dance with my ghungroos in the corridors of St. Andrews college. I've stopped thinking about what people think when I flood them with mail. I've never been this alone. I'm happy.The weather of a city inspires so much life within it. I want to be in Bombay in February when it just begins to get hot again. I love that month. Butterflies seem to fill up the place like kids on summer holiday playing cricket in every empty spot in the city. I want to play Badminton with Jyoti, which ends when we can't stop laughing and rolling on the floor. I want to dance like I used to. Without people looking at me. Without a mirror reflecting. I want to go to a Bandra wedding in a black dress and heels with Nikhil. I'm not going to miss midnight mass this year. I want to eat Bombay south indian food. I want to take a 222 bus to Yari Road. I want to listen to the Bjork's album Medulla someday. I said I would hear it with my ex boyfriend. I want to meet Riddhi and Jacob like I met them. I want to buy cheap clothes from Hill Road and take more flute lessons from the Nepali watchman. I want to walk down 15th road and Zig Zag road. They are my favourite. I want to stand right under my Eucalyptus tree and soak in its fragrance. My Yew tree. I want to go to my Raddiwala. I want to run with the dogs at Carter Road. And Parry. I want to spend Sunday at home with my parents playing cards or carrom. I want to go to my yoga class. I want to hear the aazan with the church bells at 6. Room 14, National College fifth bench from the back. I want someone to ask me if they can sit next to me. What time is it? And I'll point my watch and say here, see for yourself. I want to be stupid like that. I want to make love wholly without following the step by step manual of base 1, base 2 and such crap. I want to give in without holding back. I want to take. I want to hold someone's hand without thinking about what it means. I want to be able to hug people again without awkwardly adjusting around their body. I want to be out in the night without worrying my parents about it. I want to live in a room with people, just listening to music. I want a vacation in Bombay. I want this trip to be about the city and not just my home. I want to visit my city. Hear the sound of visit. Its like a zip. Quick sounding. vi-sit. We sit. I want to run through the grass maze at Guru Nanak park and be lost while I know where I am. I want to take a class of poetry with Sister Ananda again. I want to walk through those pink corridors of my college a bit and have the feeling I had when I knew this place would change a lot of my life. Not because I was in awe of it, but because I knew he wouldn't be around. I want to live that moment I found out about him and her. Its not self pity. I want to live those moments again to see if I would learn something else now. I want to see all this again with someone, holding their hand, showing them my sight, seeing theirs. I want to see how I didn't see things. I want to be there that New year party, and see what really happened. Did you? Did I?
The smell of the wood at the Prithvi backstage, that last seat on the left top corner.That ugly red sofa.The stars. I'll die zones. The day we missed class and ran in the water at the beach. That faded poloroid instant picture with my shoes in my hand. My short hair. Your growing hair. Just things that happened. Just memoires, just like posters of plays, or advertisements for English Speaking Classes. Talks of your country and my country. Our bodies. Fish. The cats. I've let go of your life. I've let go of love lost, but not of these post its in my head. I like my life. I like the fact that its been a psychedelic elevator from a dream. Yellow and Orange.

unedited.

I must admit I got the oppurtunity to watch some television after ages. It makes me feel old or that I've been sending the wrong stuff. I want to know what these guys were tripping on. Why is a crocodile shedding tears for candy in some actors living room? What is funny or entertaining? Why is it on TV? Who lets these people get away with shit like this?

A bit of Bangalore sky in my journal.

They find me. People who want to talk, who want to share postcards, who want to show me their home, share their stories and those who want to listen. They email, write, call, text and I'm glad that they do. But sometimes I wish I would be equipped to deal with them all.The people I've been around recently, as friends, lovers, or just people have been performers of some sort or artists as we like to call ourselves. We are so fragile. Everyday, I share my life with 14 other fragile beings at class, constantly struggling to mould our bodies into shapes alien to us. Today was an exam of sorts. It went sort of okay as well.Everything is sort of okay. I miss Bombay and I'm just waiting to get home and sit in the sun. Its freezing in Bangalore. I heard the temperature dropped close to 9.
yours truly,
moody.

People

I don't understand how you can date someone who is married and has a kid who he claims to love. How can you touch him? I don't know how you have a love in far away city and want another near you. How can you sleep at night? I don't understand how love is need. I don't understand how one can be obliged to like. I don't comprehend this feeling. I don't understand how you can want someone enough to make them feel guilty about making you unhappy.I've seen a lot of people lately, I've walked out of places, parties. I'd like to be alone with my thoughts left to me and my journal.
People have to say what they have to say because we are meant to hear it. We design our own matrix, our own learning program, our life. I'm here to hear that you are dissapointed by me and that you misread me to be a likeable person. I'm here to see you assume what I feared you would. Your words make me guilty for being me. I can't be what you want me to be. But I am. You designed me in your life.

I haven't been blogging because these thoughts are so personal I don't say them aloud. This city is so small and so connected, almost caging. There are a million things I don't want to see. Your intentions, your lives with their details. Ignorance is bliss.

Leo Horoscope (Jul 23 - Aug 22)
You could play the role of a protector today as your tendency to nurture others is quite strong. Nevertheless, you might run into an unspoken resistance to your work now as someone tries to undermine your contribution. Don't fight back by taking anyone on directly. Instead, just keep showing up with a positive attitude and do the best you can. Your relentless loyalty to those you love will shine through, no matter what.

Thoughts from my mind

Lately there's been so much to say and so little cell phone credit that a lot of pages in my journal have been filled up. Some of the things I've been thinking are:
1. there is no there.
2. look at the good side of things. The week is not about reaching Friday.
3. "Things have a life of their own," the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. "Its simply a matter of waking up their souls"- One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
4.I'm afraid of people with bad handwriting.
5.You can be walking and falling - Dance.
6.How happy is the blameless vestal's lot
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind
Each pray'r accepted and each word resign'd
-A. Pope
7. Om purnamadah purnamidam purnat purnamudacyate
purnasya purnamadaya purnamevavas isyate

which can be loosely translated from Sanskrit to
That is whole;
This is whole,
From that whole,
This whole came,
From that whole
this whole removed,
what remains is whole.

“Life's disappointments are harder to take when you don't know any swear words.”- Calvin & Hobbes

What is a quote? How much does it feel? Words that are not your own. You understand them and appreciate them. You may get influenced or inspired but these words are not your own. Words that originate through your internals are words that you realise and add to the your story. What are words picked from others stories worth to yours? Your words can be the same as someone else's words but they can't be picked and quoted.Or shouldn't be. That stops your creation. Talk about the sun. Talk about the stock market. Talk about the latest trends but say something you want to say because it must be said.

“The best way to waste your life, ... is by taking notes. The easiest way to avoid living is to just watch. Look for the details. Report. Don't participate.”
Chuck Palahniuk

I've been thinking a lot of thoughts recently. And many of these thoughts are not thought. They are said first then they travel from sound to my ears and then to my head. I then realise that I have said them. Some of these thoughts seem profound to me. They may not be new but they carry with them the feeling that they are not as trivial as thoughts, they are more internal like realisations, discoveries I'm making for myself like experiences. One such thought happened at the terrace today. I looked at a bright star and another star close to it, they formed a line and they seemed to urge me to think that they are pointing to something else. I followed the trail and it did actually lead to another star. I looked around and before I could think I said that isn't it strange that every dot IS connected to another dot with a line. Every dot is connected to another dot in space. Every dot is connected to every other dot by a line. All things no matter where they are situated in space or time are connected by something as simple as one straight line. Hari, then said that the line IS the shortest distance between two dots. This is true, but something else.
It makes me picture things as a grid of lines which change with every flutter of an eyelid. I am and you are at this moment connected to every other thing that exists or existed by one simple line. What is far? or another side of a planet to us then?
I can go on and on and for me it still remains important. (and I'm not stoned)
I have also convinced myself of the fact that there is something else somewhere out of my physical vision that is happening and this happening is not in the sense of regular events. Its a feeling of a space somewhere where I am not. The feelings are of a distant Aazaan and the setting of the sky and the smell of the air of a place I know not where. The 'happening' is that place and that particular space with its conditions. I withdraw from whereever I am to connect to this other space and people think I'm not interested in what they are saving. This I must admit is not very far from the truth.
What is far?





PS: After looking at a lava lamp right now I think as B grade and cheesy as they are they are still poetic in their movement.

Ahem... Yes, Hello.

I have been away, dancing. Dancing 8 hrs a day, feeling nothing but pain for a month which began on the 14th of September. For the first week I thought the teachers just looked through me. I wasn't noticed, important or even there in the same space. Then things got a little better but these "things" always change before you get comfortable with them. Each day is discovery, innovation and pages of explanations to self why what I'm doing should be done, why I must not feel unloved. Its strange and has stopped surprising me how I link everything to love. Everything from the time I wake up to the cheese I eat, to my dirty socks speak of love. I've been craving hugs. I've been repeating myself. I watched a couple of movies- Dr. Strangelove and how I began to love the bomb, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind and The Secret (all thanks to Mr. Generous and Art of Living Guru - Hari)Movies help. You live in them and get love, get laid or even dumped and you feel you lived a little.

Attakkalari has a darkish area for us to sit when we are not dancing. The place has no windows. But the seniors! I find each guy cute. Last night at the terrace I was telling Krushna and Avni, my flatmates how after a point everything or every kind of guy is cute. The guy who knows only Malu and very little english is cute, the guy who is bald is cute, the guy who has a girlfriend is uncontrollably adorable, the guy I'm being teased with is interesting because he doesn't talk to me. We walk into the same room with high tension like elastic strings tugging at our eyelids. Its all so... cute. All said, they are all happy in their lives and so am I trying to be. They have really good bodies :P

Besides this my flatmates find me incredibly amusing. They think I'm some puppet wound and let loose to entertain unconsciously, involuntarily.

I find my sentences difficult to make. I want to do some of those exercises we did in school.
Make sentences with :
1. love.
2. pot.
3. dance.
4. fridge.
because I don't get to talk much. Except this loop of thoughts in my head.

I also want an internet condition and an exotic holiday to an exotic country.
till then,
I have feet to dance,
yours truly,
miss unedited.

When people say something, stop and wonder why they would say something like that.
The simplest sounding sentences are rooted deep.

Realisation # 563

No matter how well you say it, someone else has said it better.

78%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?
From D's blog I found a quiz that reveals that I'm 78% addicted to blogging. Its true, I must admit. I knew it. I tried... but all I could do amounts to 22% thats how much I live. 22% !
22% with 10% of my brain. I must be genius! But these people are saying we don't use only 10% of our brain. Decide guys!

The website which has revealed the state of my condition also claims that my blog is WANTED dead or alive (?) for the SUCCULENT TORTURE of a DASHING SEA URCHIN with a price of 2300$ ooooh! even though I failed this one...

They say
There are about 2,786,280 germs on your (my) keyboard right now!
That's equivalent to the number of germs on 557 toilet seats.

But that's okay as long as my blog is


This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

• death (2x)
• sexy (1x)

Be very very careful... it's in the air these days.
your truly,
sniff sniff wipe wipe.
ps: Sexy Sharma if you still exist in the blogging world do you remember the communication skills class poem I wrote in the first year? Sniff sniff, wipe wipe ?

Of life and death yet again

Flickr is evil. First they make a very clean and organised website, link it to your yahoo email address. Then they go on and make it even more user friendly. Of course there is a catch. I'm a firm believer of the philosophy that there is always a catch. They give you a limit of 200 photos. I have reached 196. I want to click and upload more photos... I'm addicted... I... must... must... upload... aaaaaaa!

Flickr is evil. They want me to pay. Why? The photos are mine. And not some chutta paisa Rs. 1500! All the other photos are owned by other people. The bloody site runs on our photos, else who would want to randomly keep clicking a bunch of links(exceptions: self proclaimed linkophile). Why should I pay, tell me! They should be paying me for sharing my wisdom with the rest of the world. A valuable page from my journal on their site without any royalty and other such stuff I don't know much about but can profit from.

When will mankind learn to respect art and genius... and me!
Flickr is evil.

All monetary inputs, old vintage cars, heroic acts of kindness are gladly welcome.

My bank account details.

This is the dedication the new journal begins with. On the left is the postcard waiting to be sent to Razoo in Nepal.
This is a page I did to list musicians in India who play the Sarangi and Basuri for my next to trip to Landmark the mall. You can't randomly invest Rs. 350 into a cd with a man and an instrument on the cover. This is my research.A doodle for my favourite poem. Somewhere I have never travelled- e.e. cummings. You should try making a poem a doodle its tough and no way on the lines of complete but a unique imagination exercise. The image of the man looking at the girl on a bicycle is the only non consumable/ perishable material birthday gift I got this year- others included a movie show - Transformers, a dinner, entry to Birju Maharaj's Kathak production and of course free wine.
This was done at the Pondicherry stall at Dastkaar mela. Illustrations of a hammock. But they feel like today. Its a lazy Saturday.
This is my attempt at the drawing the Beatles. I did 18 faces yesterday and I think this is the closest I got to Lenon.Work in progress. For the interested, more effort visible on flickr.

I wanted to post these but have not much to say about them.
so...
signing out,
uninspired

Refill confetti in your bean bag day!

You have no idea how it feels to gently move your foot over a bed of confetti...

till of course you've done that.
the day is however only a quick make up by Chamko Rani version Fri, Sep 7, 2007.

Fame is here!

After a fantabulous weekend at the Chitrakala Parishad Dastkaar Mela -
Making illustrations for business card of Pondicherry stall man, learning beaded flowers from Uttar Pradesh stall women, posing for photographs, conversing in Dilli ki Hindi and doing Tarot readings for Dayaal the Rajasthan stall guy who gave me half his shop as fee... I have got myself a little place in 4D womans magazine's September issue.

Oh ...These kids at the festival were simply adorable. They fumbled with their performance but nothing could be more gorgeous than their shy smiles.

The 4D womans magazine article is about women bloggers and I have a little picture and quotes on blogging and my philosophy of it all. I'd like to put up the scans but it would be nice if you go pick up a copy, cut my picture and quotes out, frame them and forcibly make everyone see it. wuhahahahaha!

yours truly,
miss modest.

scans shall show up on the blog when the magazine sales have reached a few million

We may intend things to be different but the consequences whether good or bad are inevitable. There are things that can be forgiven and things that can be forgotten. I don't want to make mistakes that need to be forgotten.

happy birthday

I'm so happy I could drag a man to death today. Just because I'm happy. Yes. Do we need a real reason?

Somethings never end.

Self obsession. Bills. Nosey neighbours. Advertisements. Books like Mein Kampf. Movies like Pirates of the Caribbean. The time 3:33 following me. IITians and the Pink Floyd connection. Family discussions that contain Do as you please... To Do lists. Call-on-hold music. Doing the dishes. Cooking. Doing the dishes. Eating. Doing the dishes. Little kids knocking on doors for donations. Tarot readings that begin with Does my boy friend... or I know this guy... Nights in my house. Bold and the Beautiful. Dinner without TV or parents. Worry. The list of greedy Bangalore rickshawalas Fear. Cabbage. Wants.

I could go on, but this list is not one of those things that don't end.

just another postcard for postcrossing.

Dear Didier,

Today began at Ulsoor (1) earlier than usual, writing sleepy email of long rambles, and moved at the average speed of 8 kms per hour on cycle to Shanti Sagar for Idly without the vada, and juice (jamie the brown donut like thing in the picture is the vada.) Then snailing through Wilson Garden where the dance school is, it hit a closed door at Koramangala's Sancy laundrette(3), so a quick diversion was made to Koramangala 4th Block office (near 3) with 3.5 kgs of dirty laundry and then a misguided tour of Madiwala(4) to get back to Ulsoor (1) a tired fish on a bicycle. Once back to Ulsoor if you happened to check the Sarvajanik mail box you would find a torn envelope with my name on it. On the floor you would see a postcard split into 2, one side with the picture and one with the words and stamps. I'm sure you would go to the landlord and complain. So I did. Such foolishness in this society I tell you. Its a postcard from France with the prettiest stamps I have seen. It would be tragic to find it wet and soggy and hence split into two, but no kind of rain is capable of tearing open a brown paper envelope which says familiar at the back.
yours truly,
heartbroken.

(Jamie, sarvajanik= public in hindi)

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22)

As hard as you may try to maintain clarity in communication, the poetic muse has come to visit you today. Even if you don't write poetry, your thoughts are more connected with your imagination now than they are with reality. Saying things impulsively can create problems, for your image-rich language paints a picture rather than telling a story. Don't try to force your communications into overly formal presentations. Instead just describe what you see in your mind's eye the best you can.

What arrived to my e-mail box today.

dilemma dancer

Proud owner of admission access to Attakkalari school of Movement Arts declares that she has been offered the FULL scholarship at the institute. Before reviewing and signing the contract that entitles her 2 year of compulsory work with the institution, She informed her parents of changing course which met a sad negative. " I don't know why people are so important in my Freudian parents eyes. I see the sense in the argument that states I jump around a little too much but not in the argument that says - We've been telling people you are doing graphic designing in Bangalore, now, how will we face them and reveal this bitter truth? Freudian parents because everything boils to sexual dynamics. I guess all parents think that way, some choose to blatantly reveal it, some choose to discourage and warn, others protect being aware at the same time".

A full scholarship would mean Dilemma Dancer pays nothing. Agreed that she could be a slave at their mercy at the end of it, but there is no payment now. Any information on the future prospects (monetary and other wise) of the field are welcome.

It must be told that the writer found no way to end this post but like this.

what a soul tired from
a trance feels
is bliss.

Our bliss is in our honesty,
in work that keeps us truthful.

my truth is in my loneliness,
and dance much like drawing is
only scribbling in space.

written as blood pumps its way back to my body
after my dance school audition.
I got the form but not the scholarship.
as yet.

Its Monday tears.
I want to say
beneath it all
I'm a good person
and sometimes,
more increasingly,
when I watch a film,
my stomach aches,
and I get the need to
tell someone about my life
because I'll die
and people will only know
me as the frivolous happy soul
I'm not.

Is there a song nobody has heard?
Am I here if noone knows?

Is there love left?
Is there any truth?
in us?

The Magician is a tarot character capable of tricking him/herself. Spend a day pretending to be waiting for Godot, listening to where'd you go - Fort Minor. He isn't home. But he might come today. I've got the flowers ready. The place looks tidy. Its a holiday. I'm cooking dinner now. Early. The diyas are lit. New bed spread.

I spent a day waiting for visitors. I can't have any. But I thought of the day it would be if people spent time with me.

My flatmate is coming back home for good. Problem : we have one bedroom. But we can pretend...

This post is in process

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22)

Your grip on reality isn't strong today, and the harder you grab on to it, the more it slips away. The truth is like a greased watermelon; you have it one moment and then it's gone the next. Be careful now; you are in a fun house and reality is being mirrored back to you in ways that can trick you into the wrong conclusion.

Of life and death

The only phone call I got today was a wrong number for some Sohail. Its been an eventful grey day of reading people's blogs. I think I need a flatmate or a pet.

Actually,
a flatmate will do.

edit: I'm off to a farm now yeah! my 60's dreams are going to come true. But lets not live under an influence okay. Or may be from tomorrow? What do you think?

Hmm... Am I in love with this guy or not.
Lev, my love. eyelash scroll down slow.
After surviving my birthday and unknowingly posting a very cranky 500th post,
I'm here to say that there isnt much I can do about how I am feeling desperate
in life, for certainty. 21st Birthday and all huh? , well nothing... I spent the day all by myself at home (of course there is a whole school of philosophy behind it) trying to play the flute and got better as time passed. Discovered cheap (Rs.18) South Indian Mini Meal st Shanthi Sagar- 3 puris, sambar, rasam, some veggies in spicy red gravy, some coconut chutney, some beans like things, some curd, pickle, papad, some sweet yellow liquid I don't like. Took a nap, danced to the Indian Ocean album like a nun in the dark of the night. Bought myself a south cotton saree. Bought myself new headphones (One of the best things I've done to myself.) Got really drunk and stoned. Almost cried everytime someone said its my birthday(even when not drunk) Woke up to make changes and begin a routine. Received 23 emails from strangers from my sisters office whom she had blackmailed into wishing me. They were not sure if it was really my birthday. Finally figured out what the rotten smell in my kitchen was- eggs rotting with some grey slimy insects sliding on the surface.Status: disposed. desperate. drama. twitchy. low on oxygen.
your truly,
dancing doodle.

PS: We at Chamki Corp. are looking for poet dancers of the male species. Any surviving members should immediate email us. Thank you.

I want to dance. I want to learn dance. I like what I'm doing at my job but that amount of work can probably be done in less time. There is much time wasted around it. The dance that I want to do doesn't leave time for any job. It's the big question. Do you have it in you to commit to one thing entirely. Can one be a dancer-artist with little money and without help from parents in a new city?
I want to do things I want to do and not the things I should do. I don't want to focus on one job right now and just drag myself through it. I can't commit to the full time courses because I need to earn at the same time. Its sad. How will I ever be what I want to be- which also is not very clear. How will I ever do anything? This is how your birthday feels when it begins when the first face you see in the morning is your ugly neighbour who wants to know everything in your life. She is the only one who wants to know what happens, who comes in and who leaves. I want to bunk work and cry today about how I manage to get myself into these things. I'll go right back to sleep and wake up again to see the naked man poster in the living room. That should set things right.

and yeah...Vatsala's really long tag coming up soon.

The second post

You can smile through the worst moment in your day knowing that someone knows about it at the moment it is happening. You can tell anybody, sure you can.But.. but this is a special kind of joy.

There are going to be 2 separate posts now.

Warning fellow readers.
I'm bound to do something stupid soon.

My horrorscope scares me.
How do they know?

Leo (Jul 23 - Aug 22)

Reality has an obstacle or two to place in your way now, as Saturn is in its final week of visiting your sign. Consider the extraordinary pressures you have faced since August, 2005, to see what you can learn from the past two years. Remember, awareness is crucial; if you can understand your role in what's happening, then you can push through to the other side.

Flash back to August 2005, I quit a job ubruptly because I was being bitched about behind my back, politics, mean two faced creatures and I swore not to work with such people again. Then my boy friend broke up with me and it was one of those painful times which led to several sessions with a shrink, screaching at his face, and then this blog in October 2005. This blog sort of helped me heal. Now, I have to push to the other side? Man...

see I'm likely to forget this by tomorrow

but its nice to have it as a reference

to look back at and see if something crazy does happen.

you'll get to be witness and all.

I have been awarded the Blogger Reflection Award by Mahima.

“This award should make an individual reflect upon 5 bloggers who have been an encouragement, a source of love, impacted you in some way and who have provided a Godly example. In other words, five dear bloggers, whom, when you reflect upon them,
you are filled with a sense of pride and joy… of knowing them and being blessed by them.”

So I award 5 bloggers who inspire me in no order of preference, no ratings, just awe.

1. Willie Baronet:He does. He paints, travels, draws doodles and he does... I mean do things. He doesn't talk, he does.

2. James Healy: Mr. James Healy is difficult to follow as a blog. Strange I haven't said it to him before but it just occured to me. His world is far away from Bombay life or Bangalore life or life in the 20th century, from any glass-fronted building, from 5 lane highways, from dust or grey. His blog is a little away from Dublin. A few characters, funny happenings and a very very different style of narrationand lots of self-love sprinkled all over. Bond. James Bond.

3.Mahima: Mahima is influential and inspiring. She is sooo spontaneous and ready to do what another person suggests and see where it goes and what it brings to her that she can't be replaced in my life. If Mahima was a man I would have handcuffed her a long time ago and taken her with me to an island where we could create, jam, talk, live, grow, stay out till late hours of the night. I could go on and on and on but we shall dedicate a post to her later.

4. Leo and Scritch: Leo and Scritch come as a package. You read Leo's blog and you are bound to want to know who Scritch is and why she can be funny. I read his blog only secretly and refrain from leaving comments, only because anything I say is foot in the mouth, same goes for her. Its another world of understanding. Love the word weaving, even the whining. Brilliant, sharp, angry. Scritch's life is simply amazing, all the drinking and insanity. Also her views on cheating with video and all. e.n.t.e.r.t.a.i.n.i.n.g. You can see beyond their words. *edit*Their comments are funnier, sometimes I'm rolling on the floor or laughing in a rickshaw down a long road replaying them.

5. Loony: Her writing you will fall in love with because she can do what you want to. She writes fearlessly about the 8 to 8 day and a public holiday, family and life around her life in a way that one can enjoy. Plus she writes about the small romantic, dramatic things also and gets the right amount of cryptic with it.Calcutta , a little bit of Bengali here and there (which can be a problem for me, specially in the punch line.) books, people , poetry, rain, and the guys.

Oh... and I forgot, these 5 people if they see this then they CAN nominate their Blogger Reflection Awards to 5 other people. Not must.

Teachings of the Holy Spam

1.Join the millions
Look out of counterfeit medication.

Viagra >>>> High Quality
Cialis >>>> Very Low Price
Valium >>>> Cheap
Ambien >>>> Cheap
Soma >>>> Cheap
Xanax >>>> Cheap

2. Relax and take the time
What is CIALIS?
CIALIS is the only ED (Erectile Disfunction) tablet clinically proven to work both
up to 36 hours and in as fast as 30 minutes

3. Be ready, right now

4. All girls like the big guys
Paris Hilton likes them big
Life is short... so make the most of it !!
Be confident and stand tall

Life changing herbal pills, just a few clicks away

5. Drink it, forget it !

6. Shout - like you've gone mad so they'll hear us

7. One of those new Brazilian vines had snaked its way across the left vlewport since my last time up, but that seemed to be the only change in the whole scene.

8. Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming, And suddenly resolve me in my suit.

9. You can.

10. . had done it once, he could do it again. He simply had to do his homework.
Soros was not, however interested in conducting a seminar on how
1992 coup against the pound had been a fluke, a one-time thing. He
financial markets, hoping that some of his wizardry would rub off on
reaction to the Soros presentation?

Thanks to Irwin z. Ayers, Kody Runsdull, Soft for you, Miss. Exquisita Replica, Mrs. Desire, Bernardo Glass, Pierce Stanislawki, Alfred G Martinez, Jerry Short, Wilfredo Weeks, and Harry Peter.

(it takes only 23 emails in your Spam folder to recognise brilliance inspiration and truth.Titles of mails in bold, names are authentic.)

Hmm

So I'm in a place I've begun to call my home, after having sat awkwardly across a friend in a room in trying to be busy silences. I've sat awkwardly around people who are bitching about me in another tongue. I've been stupid enough to SMS my boss and say I quit and I don't want to give any reasons. I didn't have calling credit. Also I didn't want to be complaining to her.

Once a basic environment is not being improved at you can't work towards higher things. I think there was more being expected of me and I wanted to deliver that, but women at work got me involved into things that were'nt even my job. I'm not happy about the way things ended. If it were my choice I would have tried to graduate to a point where I added creative inputs and didn't have to embody a person's complex.

I'm impulsive. I've always been. Its not always a good thing. Like today.

I need that job more than women who speak the language and have homes in the city do. I'm the one who is desperate, and thats whats makes me want to work more than they do. But no 17 minute conversation with your boss can make sense of the fact that you choose to SMS me and not call me. She says I choose to run away from the situation and not talk to the girls about the issue. She is right. I choose to not call her and complain, I didn't see things getting better with them and me that way, I didn't see why I should be present in a room like that, I walked out.

this is a postcard I made spending time at the Store. There came a lady from the land of kangaroos a week ago and gave me 5 australian dollars. I gave her the postcard in effort to be as sweet as her.

My flashy handmade business cards

Click to enlarge

Presenting vague word clusters aka poetry. Accidental poetry is done by cutting up random phrases that catch your eye from the nearest newspaper. These phrases are carefully shuffled while keeping your eyes shut. then carefully distributed and jumbled around to make some "sense". e.n.j.o.y.
Thanks to Bangalore Times, Bombay Times, The Hindu and Free Ads.

What a beautiful morning
it can be
when you wake up
on time
and
sip a cup of chocolate milk
and
listen to the radio
while the local vendor
yells
something that sounds like
Libidooooo, Libidoooo
and
Haalee Berry, Haalee Berry!

nothing else matters.
(Metallica's version on radio right now but fits well here.)

Funny how I never mentioned
but this is the blog that inspired me to blog.
It began with a google search for how many people point the camera in the mirror to click a picture. Her profile picture is her holding a camera...
She never replied to any comment I left
(I don't know why, I'm too happy puppy pushy perhaps)
life means drama

ya ya ya
independence day and all that
public holiday and all that
super boring day and all that
might have to start looking for house again
thoughts of bombay again

and all ...

psst: I need something interesting to read. suggestions welcome. M suggest an interesting tarot book please.

Postcard From Bombay

10th August 2007
Listening to the late night radio
doodling time away
thinking of what a strange mix the day has been
for me and for others
I realise things change.

Mini Punjab gets a new board
Street flower boy sells me flowers tied to branches
Naganis gets mosque-d
All my possessions are wiped clean from my room
107.1 fm plays Papa loves Mambo and Mumma loves Mambo
secretly.

Mumma loves mambo
Papa loves mambo
having a fling again
younger than spring again
feeling the zing again

tra la la,
chamki

(lots to show you guys, vague word clusters and scans from journal but Internet and scanner are countires apart.)

What kind of a person walks into your home and leaves you feeling miserable? Only a Rudigore.
When do you run out of things to cook? When someone comes over to see your house and judge your cooking.
What do you cook at such times? Top Ramen Curry Noodles with egg and cheese.
What should you not expect? Someone to sit around and talk to you after they have finished eating.
What should you do when someone stands at your door and starts reading the Martin Luther Speech from the wall, when they are actually getting late? Hold the door open.
What should you not feel? Lonely.
What else can go wrong on a day like today? You can leave your cell phone locked in your friends place for the entire afternoon and evening with parents calling you frantically and worrying if members of the Kanada Sangha have put you in liquid oxygen.

It wasn't about Rudigore this time. It was just the thought of MY house. How I saw my house and how another sees it.To me its messy alright but with a hint of life and love. Things are tacky like a cheap circus and the bulb is too bright, the music is not just right - Prem Joshua's Mudra and Tales of a Dancing River, my newest buys, the bed is on the floor and I still have to pack to get to Bombay tomorrow. But what triggered it was that I wanted my house so I could share my space with people. I don't ask everybody and anybody to get here, but when someone is home I feel like I belong somewhere with them. Rudigore makes me feel like he is doing me a favour by visiting. Everybody seems like that. Those dreams of sitting around and reading excerpts aloud, sharing thoughts, talking till 6am were only possible in Bombay. Mahima, Pallavi and me. I haven't found one person in this city to just BE with. Its either Rudigore phase or I want to be your Rudigore or I'm too old for this shit, or Ah! life is pointless lets just drink the night down.

Looking at the brightside, I'm surprising my parents by landing home tomorrow afternoon. It's my father's 60th birthday this Saturday, also I'm fetching my BMX because I can't find a decent replacement vehicle in Bengaluru.
Also, Nutella chocolate spread on biscuit tastes like home made Twix chocolates and makes great as desert.

till then,
yours truly,
sigh girl.

like a foggy window on a muggy afternoon

Listening to Tibetan chants in office,
re-reading my first email from known stranger,
remembering what I dreamt last night,
I am smiling because a new day as old as it seems at noon,
has nevertheless begun.

This blog was observing silence to mourn the loss of a friend. He died in my life again. I think only to be resurrected. Venusberg, I wrote something! There's a lot to be said, about the people I met last night, the strangers I once knew I bumped into, the awkwardness, sleeping and waking up to uncertainty, but I've been too scattered to write them down. Accidental vague word clusters- we shall call poetry for conveneince will be posted soon.

yours truly,
loopy tibetan chant
om mani padme hum


special thanks to G for the word- muggy

just like a fish on a bicycle

One full moon day
the mind wanders
to the lake.

reflecting city lights
the soul sighs
all it wants is to better.

in the silliest way
they promise
or do they
irrespective of factors x
to better.

Note to Self

... And sometimes you can feel like you live in a dating sit com. Life can be as frivolous as that.I'm a
Brigit Jones in the making. Sleep is my refuge. Work is a substitute. Shopping is therapy instead of walks in the park. The right guys this time... must remember... only the genuine ones... no convincing yourself. Plenty of time, life's not worth a hasty decision. What we want we pursue, what comes convenient we convince. We can change, change is possible, inevitable . But change can be temporarily positive to achieve what we need- Words of the great master himself. Ah! this crochet life of words, sentences and associations!
+chamaks+

Yesterday was one of the few days when I didn't do what I wanted to. It shot a mini debate in my head. The impulsive Vs The rational. I think there is a flaw in the categories themselves but the sort of rational side, the one which is more selfish won. I was watching Hitch. I liked it. I liked Mr. Hitch. I need his assistance. Yesterday was also the day for weird messages. I was wished for my birthday one month in advance and for last year even. I thought it was pretty in theme with the day (if you can figure out what this means leave your number.). I've been trying to forget my birthday. Last year was an okay sort of day. No one but Arshad turned up to spend time with me. We went drinking and dancing. The year before that I sat across a table in Mc Donalds to a guy I loved as he spoke to people on the phone, fixed meetings, joked, laughed. So this year, I want to surprise myself since no one else will and I know I'll hate it if they do, because no one I want will do so, some random school friend will call, or my parents might turn up. I want to let my birthday pass by without knowing of it only realizing the next day that it did. Coincidentally, we spoke about my birthday at work as well today. Su asked if I would take a holiday and if Meg who is owner will give me a gift or a discount on a buy from the store. Hmm...
blah sunday morning, the need for open green calls,
chamki signing out.

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22)

Since you Virgos can be overly sensitive to the messenger planet, Mercury, you can probably feel his tension today as he pushes up again the boundaries of Saturn. You might not communicate everything that you want to say, but trust your instincts about what to withhold. Then, when you are ready to talk, your words will be strong enough to stand on their own.