180 degrees

•April 15, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I have learnt the hard way, that denial is in fact realisation in disguise. You can look at my face, and even through the layers of mist between us, I’m sadly disfigured when it comes to concealing expressions. A bad actor in the middle of  someone else’s stage – and I give myself away. It is a good thing. Confrontation has already happened when you’ve tried to push it away. I’m always right there. Watch my every move and don’t let me fall, since I’ve made it obviously easy, and grassroots stem only from seeds.

Mocks are over and hell, revelling in every moment even though the spark seems gone.

Sometimes I wish I could walk on the ceiling to see the world from a whole new perspective.. every thing which doesn’t make sense immediately would, and everyone’s heads would be in their feet, quite literally.


•April 12, 2009 • Leave a Comment


•April 11, 2009 • Leave a Comment

•April 7, 2009 • Leave a Comment


•March 31, 2009 • Leave a Comment

If war didn’t exist we wouldn’t know what peace would be like.

If the large majority of senseless, stupid people didn’t exist we wouldn’t know appreciate the few with capability.

If Zardari didn’t exist we wouldn’t know what good government meant.

I started this blog with a post on revolution… it seems to be growing up around me, or maybe I’m only imagining it, or maybe it’s a phase. I don’t think we are politically ignorant or unconcerned today, I am talking about the youth. A substantial majorily is mentally rebelling, but the revolution of the mind is going to waste due to the lack of a directed purpose. I think it is the same issue faced in the past, the void which needs to be filled by a leader or the equivilant in the form of action.


•March 24, 2009 • Leave a Comment

 Everything clears up, even though it didn’t make sense two minutes ago.

You know what it takes …. we all do


•March 23, 2009 • Leave a Comment

He spins, spins, spins around in his chair. My world goes dizzy. It takes both hands to make it… everything.. stop, and my hands are already full, and finally he is facing me. Here we are, a last second plan back-t0-normal after an interval of coffee cups without sugar. The couch is comfortable enough, the air is even better, the place feels the same. I lounge about and stare at him. Fast forward, rewind, and back to square one.

He’s hunched back, eyes on the floor. “This fucks me up.” There’s a mannequin behind us and it’s standing feelingless. Word, thought, action. Action without word, thought without action. Why are you silent? “I just. I don’t know. You tell me.” Downcasted, there’s a reason why we keep coming back… it’s a reason I need and I hope it stays. But I’m the one who can’t deal, when you look down, I’m forced to look somewhere else, and start talking. The SLR is great.  So was the juice. And fucked up isn’t always a bad thing. As long as the lights keep on rolling and we speak our mind when it’s not required. But looking down turns the tables around from where I’m sitting and suddenly I need to get up and I feel like I want to dance with you.

The car ride back isn’t silent. The night is perfect. Music plays and disconnects between sentences and we stare at an empty sky. I love filling it it up with laughter.

When I see her finally, she knows I am happy.
Swimming pools never felt as serene, it’s not sea-water, it’s artificial, but it offers the same reflection we stayed up all night observing – old jokes, breathing spaces.