Wednesday, May 29, 2013

MIXER & The Cold-Coffee

It's Been a Old Mixer,,,that's used mostly for the Cold Coffee, at various platforms, As in when there is no Light it's hooked to the sockets, kept at the place. that are on inverter. It even shifts from one place to another. At Time when it's to be used at around 3:00 in the morning, its shifted to my Bed Room, so the next door neighbors don't get disturbed and question me the very next morning, Mixer running late in the wee hours at 3:00 A.M ,What were you doing with it. (Holy Shit); my reply would be, I was using it to grind my emotions soaked in my tears! LOL, Jokes Apart, They would themselves know the answer, and would say, were you Making Cold Coffee at Night), & I would look at there face, with no replies, or say no ways! Most of the time it happens that it's used to thin the sugar down, for much of the things that I am fond of having it in and with Milk, But most of them being my all the favorite Cold Coffee, Yippie  I said it), I need 3-4 Glasses from Morning to Night to Survive!, & I would make them and keep the in my fridge, store then, & sip n drink them when I need too! That saved my again and again washing the Mixer & Cleaning & Drying it up! Again, it's been at times, lately that I have even forgot to add milk, and blindly would churn down the Mixer with Sugar & Coffee in it, and in a minute would realize it sounds empty & would pour in the Milk & do the needful. Most of the times, it's happened to me, that the Cold Coffee in the Mixer, would pop up, by force, and half of it would spread all across the walls and the platform, and stuff lying around! & I would take in the effort to clean the useless time wasting deed again by myself! & continue to make my Cold Coffee and be a little Sorry to get that Milk wasted, For much of the time if much of the Milk would get spilled I would rather collect it and keep it and serve it to the Street Dogs, they would at times, and not at times, have it! Half of the time, it's used to make (now what you call "Paneer" in English" Cottage Cheese. Well the whole beautiful effort of making Cold Coffee and tasting it to check in between of the Sugar & Coffee was perfect or not, & sipping half of it while making it is really n awesome experience! Well & I don't like My Cold Coffee to be shared, I feel jealous if some one asks me for Cold Coffee! Its Mine, i would say to myself! at 35, I guess I survive on cold Coffee & there is absolutely nothing that could beat it, May it be hot or Cold, I use the Mixer, to churn it and make the desired taste & flavor! I just cant live without Cold Coffee, but can live without food, apparently! So next time anyone is inviting me at home, please make sure you have ample amount of Milk kept at your home, and without asking me bring me Cold Coffee, (Large to glasses that is) and don't ask me for anything else! So now this is my Love Affair with the Cold Coffee, & I better pray My Mixer be all right and in steady working condition, or I shall be in trouble! Winter's or Summers I need it any how! By the way I also use it to grind Coconut & Chopped Tomatoes & Onions at times for any preparations etc and so on.  - Anonymous, 35, Delhi, India

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Guested Leaves-PLANT LIFE

Watering the Plants is like giving a Lifeless piece of Life a Life, No Matter how offended, outraged, how ignored, how dilutedly complex, some things or people appear or exist to a seldom differentiated eye,person to person , it would stand as it was ever, nothing would change, and nothing could change it, All could maketh a wonder is a little love care comfort and a feeling of being connected emotionally, materialistically , hysterically - in a way, insane, sane way(the way one perceives) , beauty will always be in the eye of the beholder & shall exist, no matter you take the subject out of the visionary sight, or you maketh the world go blind. - That's what I did, and there was this sudden joy, as if the Plant's were telling me' We need a bath, we have been out in the dust and the sun for long, with no rains, and then , as much as I wished I could get wet myself in rain, or else taking the pipe, & standing beneath it, getting wet - my insanity and sanity just went blanked, from a child to an adult and from an adult to a child, and I lost myself, my fear, my aspirations, hopes, chaos, & all I could feel was a smiley face, that must have been staring at me, as much as I smiled looking at those poor wet green babies, overshadowed with burned browned state, that I chopped off (most of them) in the evening. - I so wish I was a plant, and I was cared & loved, not asking one, without expectation and it would come to me in a natural way or by any means! - Love - the more you give, the more you get, Don't expect, just do ! & see how the world respects, & gives it to you, and nothing can stop it. The little child in me was thrilled to play with the water, as much as the plants would have felt happier.

Looks like all of the Autumn/Summer Tree leaves have kind of settled down on/in to my house, for they love being nestled up so at my balcony/garden area, and even follow there way inat the slightest gap or opening to the entrance wherever available! It's like even they want to lie down in the despair hope of some shade/shadow & quench themselves in the summer heat, They Leave down & fly down every minute ,half of them to the outer skirts of my house, and half of them inside. Well I wish I could click a photography of the piled up Leave's Home(now, as I call it),a huge mountain made of Leaves(all dried up, mixed with some fresh new ones which keep falling, Strangely, but truly I almost every week decide to broom them up, and pile them up at one corner of the walled area. & decide to leave it there, for someday I would fill them in the packets/buckets/and throw them somewhere, or someone would take it away! They are all a mix of yellow green red hues, with the Red Flowers along with them. Hey Mr. Tree "that's what I say it sometime' why don't u make your leaves fall on the outer skirts of my house, and not inside, for I find it difficult to broom your everyday & pile you up, and think everyday 'what would I do with it, When shall I possibly throw them away! They Look so Sad at times to me, as if they also wanted the Rains to come much earlier, that's what I wanted badly! They & Me So Similar we Look, as if we both needed a cozy, comforted Shelter, away form the Summery Syndrome, & wanting to Submerge ourselves with water! "Poor they" - When I see them, I say it to my self! I guess, they might be saying the same looking other - in any sign language, or whispered murmurs!, I am sure they can hear me, I don’t think they are deaf, but it's like they would react at times, as if they were angry or something, like when I would broom them on to the sided Wall, after a few steps, I would see them running down to the next corner, as if they took those baby steps, without even letting me know, 7 as soon I would go inside, closing my entrance door, to my surprise ,when ever I open my door to see, if they were steadily piled up and they did not created a mess ,they would be lying all fragmented,(as if like a little child they wanted to play with me, & make me run after them!). For once I would say to myself, what the heck, I would broom them next to next week or so!(for one thought that came wondering, would not it been a 'De fragmentation software' like the Computer, that would re-arrange them all in sequence! or auto align 'like the Desktop Feature 'on the PC! With a huh! to myself with that breath I come back, &whenever I clean it, and broom them all, i am sure to announce it to the neighbors next door! & most of the time they would notice me doing it & say " Today it's getting Cleaned Hmmm" & I would say it to myself, Only if there were Trees that would not shed in Autumn Winters! Life would have been a little more easier! But would not have I got a Story to share in here, Would have? - Anonymous ,35, India Delhi

Hornier, The Merrier-ME


Weird, Vague but True, Desperation that I was in, in the midst of everything, but no where. Just in between the daily chores, to the hornier side of me. I could do it with everyone, anywhere as it seemed like. Jus...
t a sudden hard-on, in between the not so settled down me, watching the life from a far!

Its been ages since I actually had real sex. It was crazy but yes momentum, but it lasted long, and willing to explore more on the sexual front(encounters), more and more of it. I would be habited by such sensual explorations, craving for some and more of all of it , in a sudden go! From anyone around to everyone far, I would be willing to satisfy myself virtually (imagining) if it was happening in real. & with internet not so far from my reach, a regular, random visits to the so called sites, (you know what I mean), it just pacifies your cravings and lust. From a Construction Worker on the site, to a shirtless laborer, sweating his way doing his task. I would like imagine doing it with every single person I would get a little caught up by, and infatuated with. Shagging was the ultimate thing to satisfy myself at the moment.

The Servant on the Floor Terrace, taking bath to the Imagination running down to the Sensuous tastes and experiments with a body(male/female) polluted my mind, as I blushed and smile, imagining it all, and giving it a way into my head & heart, as If my body wanted to get it done, and get over with it, like it was for the first time, a new me, who wanted to explore it all. Making Love, with a Pizza delivery Guy for a minute even, to someone, who would, could see me naked, and appreciate me, and I in return would see something more unclothed, that could satisfy me,.

A feeling to touch, taste, feel, smell & all that! Gosh, I must be going erratically, erotically naughtier, not desperate on the sexual front, but more on the exploring sorts! something new, something desirable at the same time, Something from Someone, if I had only the clue and an attention caught of someone, who approached me to do so, since it's quite a hesitant thing asking someone directly.

LOL I know I had been crazy thinking all that, but yes you have no ban on thinking right, So my thought process too all the turns, going straight up and down, right and left, in and out, barging into a naked myself, exploring more, coming down to myself, seeing ,myself naked in the mirror, and craving to bewatched naked, and see some naked flesh myself. Not a sin that is, though it's just a feeling that one goes through most ofthe time, with the same or the opposite sex. I must be gay, bisexual, straight. or just curious, for no matter what it had to be,I was kind of potent enough to keep my urges under-cover. It's like a win-win situation, making a mark, doing it right, and sometimes its like just doing it, going for it. no matter what so ever! Calming myself to a chair, flipping through some, net-friendly sites, having some chat's that were too notoriously hornier,& porn on the net that helped me, finally calmed me down! ( you get it right?)

It's not most of the time, you admire some good looking peeps, that have more then, what you got, physically (since we live in the world of looks), where rest of the things don't matter. & you certainly don't get it from In the books. Either you are one of those, who is surrounded by peeps who love the way you are, or vice-versa, & carry it on & make way for all the experimental explorations.

Exactly looking everyone with the same imagination, that I was ridden by at the moment, searching for a prey to hunt down and myself to be explored. - Anonymous, India

AT THE CAFE-''Story In Short'

The intimate insets of a lunchtime cafe, brewing with steaming rays filtering from the French pane alongside the sparse procession of bean coloured tables. Ron, Sheena, Sanjay, the waiters, stacked up behind...
the counter, chatting lifelessly, their unwelcoming eyes fixed at the door.

The cafe is occupied fairly, most of them couples, along with the usual bunch of exasperated B-Grade film makers who are narrating their future epics-to-be to one another, in a faint hope to intimidate somebody who will pay their cappuccino bill.
And, on the rear end, behind the pillar fixed with the vertical plasma, that is playing the latest Beyonce video, the only hot thing in the cafe, sit Kamal and Samara. Love pouring out of the kettle of their eyes, as they look in opposite directions grinning at each others’ fate. Samara is wearing a black knee length cocktail dress scattered with white polka dots, her hair provokingly set pointing her cleavage. While, the tiara in her left middle finger dazzles, as if taunting Kamal who is in his office blues and black, with a maroon coloured tie folded in his shirt pocket.

The picture shakes as Sanjay, one of the three waiters, slams their order on the table. A black forest cake with two glasses of Oreo shakes. For the first time, they look at each other, smiling loudly to hide the grin. The love is still there, but.

Kamal runs his finger over the cake, carving a heart around the cherry icing. He then brings that chocolaty finger near Samara’s lips. Waits! Samara grabs the finger and puts it down on her plate. She then takes out a fresh wipe from her matching mini purse and wipes the cake off his finger. Without looking at him, she takes her glass of Oreo shake and takes a sip.

“Oh I forgot... Cheers. To me!” she says as she touches her glass to Kamals’ and takes another sip.

Agitated, Kamal takes the plastic knife and butchers one half of the cake on his plate noisily, almost spilling his shake as he slides it away from him. Samara lets out a mild laughter.

“Well, Cakes, Shakes, Tissot... someone is getting rich by the day it seems”, she says.

Kamal looks up, forgetting how Samara snubbed him, appeals, “I am earning well now. As good as Mukesh... have booked a new flat in Lakshyachandi’s also. I will be moving in next month.” He waits again, beaming.

“Don’t do this please”, she says. Both look in opposite directions once again.

They stay silent for the next few minutes, their eyes fixed at each other, occupied in a relentless conversation. Then Samara says, looking away from Kamal, “I just love cafes. Sitting here, watching other people, their lives... I just find it so interesting. How every table has a story to tell! Thousands each day...” “All hues and genres”, she adds.

He remains silent.

Pissed, she taunts, “Clearly you don’t have the taste to appreciate.”

“Tell me about it...” he retorts immediately.

Another mild laughter from Samara! Kamal grins back this time.
Encouraged, Samara begins, “Look. There beneath the screen. That couple, they just had a fight. Let me guess, from the actions they were doing, it is so evident she caught him red handed. Look. Look. She hit him on his dick. Ooo... That must have hurt. But, good, set right the unfaithful bastard!”

“And that bearded man with that girl...” she says in disgust, “must be her boss. Trying to get all hanky panky... Oh! And look at that baby... with his papa... ooo cho chweet must be just two days old. I really want one. I think kids are the best thing to happen in a married life”

“One thing I will agree”, says Kamal flaunting his conviction.
“Look behind, now, this should make you happy. Those two girls near the counter, in green and yellow! They are a couple”, Samara hisses animating her brows.

“... and how do you know that?” says Kamal, almost shouting in excitement, and making a full round turn to get a clear view.
Amused, Samara says, “Let’s just say, the ladies room... it has its own revelations!” winking. Her thick upper lashes bouncing off the lower ones.

“Oh just look around...” with flooded eyes she says, “I can write volumes of stories from in here...” she gasps finishing her last bite of cake from the plate.

Kamal takes his first Oreo shake sip. He looks at Samara who is still concocting stories about other tables in her head, says... “And what about our story?”

Samara freezes, her eyes fixed at the table she was making another story about.

Both remain silent for a long while, until Samara’s phone rings. She takes the call, not saying anything, just listening.
She puts the phone back in her purse. Once again they look at each other. “Our story begins when I enter this cafe...” she waits to see if Kamal interrupts. He doesn’t. And then says, “... and ends as I step out.”

“I have got to go now... the car is outside”, she says getting up, her eyes fixed at the lesbian table, enviously.

Kamal holds her hand as she takes her first step. And says, “By the way, Happy Anniversary once again. Wish Mahesh too... I will see you tomorrow.” And he lets go of her hand.

“I am waiting to wish you the same”, Samara says as a tear drips from her left lashes, cascading elegantly down her distorted face.
She stands there, as Kamal pays the bill and leaves the cafe.
Then she leaves too... leaving the table alone, for another story.

- Ankit,Mumbai,India

The UnTalked-SILENCE

I did not knew what exactly to name it. So I just went with the flow and carried on! My Mind as if was weaving a Sweater in this Cold Winter Month. As if my Mind was reading a Newspaper of my Life. Exactly I was the past, present and worrying about the future. It was all an open book! Certain things lately in da Episode of my Life's Journey have been kind & cruel at the same time! It's like there is something and everything, but still that something and everything seems like nothing at all. With a Lonely Loner I had been past 2 years, thought blessed by someone who has put in all effort to be in touch, stay with me, and help me out to fight against all the odds of life. But the worried reasoning that goes in my head is, how far shall this go! We on this platform - stage of Life, keep meeting the unknown, and build up relationship, We feel joyous. We again loose them and outburst in a hue and cry! For I am only concerned - the selfish me, like everyone else, wanting to settle down in a much peaceful tagged Me. This morning I got up, with a dream that woke me up. Later I had jsut no interest in doing anything at all, Everything from FaceBook to my Hungry Stomach, to all the odds and evens of me, seeing myself in the mirror, felt just standing there. There was no ignition, there was no spark, there I stood as a Body & Soul, worthless and aimless, with no objectives, and with no hopes to decide on to a reasoning of why I was living and for what. I closed the newspaper of my life finally, after turning all the pages one by one, settling down to order a Pizza, so as to quench in my hungry state of mind, so rest of the things would take time but then settle down themselves. I have begin to see lately that my life starts on the Social Networking sites, and end there. For I need a lively state of mind, and a pretty much more functional state of body, just like everyone else! My brain has more educational qualifications and my soul has earned more experienced wit's. With the FaceBook Notifications I get & the messages and the calls I receive on my cell phone are the only happening things in my life right now! I am Busy ,yet Jobless, I have much more to do, I am Lazy, though I have become one wondering soul, with no anguish no urge ,absolutely nothing. The day passes by sitting on the Laptop, and I wonder is this life, & by the way why do I seem worried about the whole scenario. Why should I not sit, and enjoy all the comforts available, or should I be more focused on the complexities of deprived me' of all the things I have not got, or am looking to. Shuffling down with one id to another on FaceBook, and chatting with a few known, unknown, hitting few likes, commenting few, Wishing Birthday’s, and Thanking the rest, I close the lid of my Laptop, and run down to my Kitchen to make myself a large glass of Cold Coffee, and then back to my table, making a list of things to be done for the day, & ordering few things from the Grocery Store (Rationwaala). That's what I have been doing everyday!. I have enough been single, or is it that I would be happy if married, Have I got enough sex, or is it that I am looking out for someone. Will I be accepted (da short heighten, overweight). Making new friends around does not seem to have been solving problems, I guess someone there for a lifetime would be a picture perfect. But then who knows what's in stored, what's on the cards. I have to move my sorry ass, and do something about it, but I guess the negativity and all the odds make me settle down doing nothing and thinking about what am I going to have for dinner tonight. All I guess is a fractional thought process in m mind right now, making me little depressed and neutral at the same time. I surrender or I do something about it. - 35,Anonymous,India

Language Of Words-MIND'IT

All words are pegs to hang ideas on.

How many of us lovethat advertisement where the dad tells the kid that the Great Wall ofChina was built to keep the rabbits out?"

I grew up when we were taught copperplate writing in school. The strokeswere not just 'varying widths' -- the upstrokes were fine and light, andthe downstrokes were heavier and therefore wider. This was not easy toachieve, but we had exercise books (called 'copy books') with special lineson them to give us the height and depth of the upstrokes and downstrokes,and we spent many hours doing 'writing practice' in my childhood.

Who will consider that no dictionary of a living tongue ever can be perfect, since, while it is hastening to publication, some words are budding, and some falling away; that a whole life cannot be spent upon syntax and etymology, and that even a whole life would not be sufficient; that he, whose design includes whatever language can express, must often speak of what he does not understand.

An insult, real or perceived, once resulted in a duel. To defend one'shonor meant to kill someone or to get killed. Thankfully, those timesare behind us. Duels are now part of history, but bar-fights and otheraltercations show that we haven't outgrown our revenge mentality.

Here's another option. Imagine a world where a slight called for a verbalduel. The two parties get together and hurl the choicest adjectives at eachother. Spectators cheer them on. And in the end the two shake hands and,having vented, go home.

Imagine that to prepare for this fight the parties involved don't driveto a gun shop. Instead they head to the biggest, baddest dictionary theycould lay their hands on and pick out words. The more obscure, the morecolorful, the better. If your opponent can't even understand the word youhurl at him what hope has he?

Consider this week's words as ammunition* -- don't let them fall into thehands of little children.

*Ammunition is a generic term derived from the French language la munition which embraced all material used for war (from the Latin munire, to provide), but which in time came to refer specifically to gunpowder and artillery.

"Different languages highlight the varieties of human experience, revealing as mutable aspects of life that we tend to think of as settled and universal, such as our experience of time, number, or color. In Tuva, for example, the past is always spoken of as ahead of one, and the future is behind one's back. 'We could never say, I'm looking forward to doing something,' a Tuvan told me. Indeed, he might say, 'I'm looking forward to the day before yesterday.' It makes total sense if you think of it in a Tuvan sort of way: If the future were ahead of you, wouldn't it be in plain view?"

Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I hadwords instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My languagetrembles with desire. -Roland Barthes

One of my first beaus once sent me an arrangement of all pink flowers. Thecard that accompanied it said something like, "I hope these flowers mirroryour countenance." (I gather the florist thought the note was wanting,and advocated for something different, but my would-be beau would not bedissuaded). It took me a bit to figure out what the note said because it toreas I opened the wrapping, obscuring a good portion of the word countenance,and it is true, that it is not often found on notes accompanying flowers(at least in recent decades) so I was rather stumped. Compounding theproblem, I think, was this whole idea of hoping the flowers mirrored myface. I reasoned that the flowers were to be pink, which the boy knew,so there was no need to hope that they mirrored my countenance. I thoughtI must be missing something, but now realize that wooing the grammarianis tricky business indeed! In the end, I found I could not countenancethe boy, and we went our separate ways.

The words a father speaks to his children in the privacy of the home are not overheard at the time, but, as in whispering galleries, they will be clearly heard at the end and by posterity.

?'In English the verb goes in the middle of a sentence (I love you), while some languages relegate it to the end (I you love). This may sound preposterous to those not familiar with such a language (German, Hindi, Japanese, among others), but it's quite common.' For German, however, this is only partly true, i.e. in subordinate clauses. In a main clause as 'I love you', the order of the words is the same as in English ("ich liebe dich").

- Anonymous, Male, India