eloquence evades me.
i find myself distressed, because i cannot
spew out pearls of such intense clarity they make
jaws drop in awe, eyes bulge with wonder.
write to me some summer lines.
write to me an ode to the days of yore.
when words and daisies
lined up my street with white sunbeams,
golden dreams.
now even happiness leaves me uninspired.
oddly content. oddly hollow.
bated breath and tip-toeing eggshells to see
if it (when it) ends.
suspicion.
superstition.
hollow laughter in hollow silences.
hollow words.
i become become become
speechless.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
feel like i havent ranted here ina while...
here goes.
intense week
last classes of the semester
sound poetry classes by a poet with gurgling issues and toad in her throat whose sound poetry sounded like a long and painful orgasm.
with an animal.
world lit profs emailing YOU to get into their classes ( feeling like a dusty old celebrity)
papers bout crappy local poets and fragmentation and I.T in contemporary poetry due in 24 hours worth 25%.
new habit- 2 cups of chai and one of coffee every day.
east meets west.
ph.d/masters English profs calling in from UBC to 'speak to the girl who made so bold a comment at the public lecture.'
of brothers growin up too fast, talkin' about pool and funk and squash and house.
techno techno techno
ida corr vs fedde le grand, lemme think about it.
all nighters,
48 hours of being continuously awake on a self-induced sugar high
discussions of manhood as a taboo in european literature: promoting or inhibiting the circulation of texts.
he stayed up with me.
exam in 72 hours. shit.
joint skype calls with him,his brother,his best friend, and me.
virtual dinners. virtual words.
virtual reality. escape.
high school friends. online reunions. video calls.
nostalgia. the old the forgotten the you.
the me the them.
they've changed. grown older.
sadder.
there was less laughter. more silence.
more sighs. more
news.
no news is good news.
dad. mum. precipice. perception.
jamun tells me the truth. she tells me lies.
she tells me the truth. jamun tells me lies.
which is which?
why am i so bent on believing lies because the truth is too painful?
why am i so bent on believing the truth, because the lies are too painful?
what is it really?
how are they really?
why is no one TELLING me what the hell is going on there?
run run run.
run away from them.
but i can't. i run back to them everytime.
no place like home? no place.
no peace.
watching 1942 A Love Story. too many dead people. too much melodrama.
eik ladki ko dekha to....
the man who used to sing that for me turned into a schizophrenic
who cries to me about his distant brother,sister,his deceased parents
his utter utter loneliness.
and when im the only one with him, i make secret calls from his bathroom,
'i'm alone with him. i'm scared. take me away.'
desert.
desserts. i want chocolate.
chocolate gives you acne. acne leaves scars.
scars don't go.
and pakis talk. about scars. about flaws. about how nothing is ever good enough.
pakistan. blood. tears. drama. politics. family. vacations.
new york. him.
can't wait.
weight.
i've lost weight. they tell me i look gaunt. my jeans look looser on me.
never had too much of an appetite.
canada.
if you want to stay here you'll live by the rules.
our rules. their rules. everyone's rules but your own.
no rules. new rules. fools.
all of them.
me included.
fool for not getting started on my paper already. sigh.
hum chalay dushmen jalay.
ram chand re.
:D
-eeda.
p.s
if u made it to the end of this post,
here's an aspirin.
and a hug.
=)
here goes.
intense week
last classes of the semester
sound poetry classes by a poet with gurgling issues and toad in her throat whose sound poetry sounded like a long and painful orgasm.
with an animal.
world lit profs emailing YOU to get into their classes ( feeling like a dusty old celebrity)
papers bout crappy local poets and fragmentation and I.T in contemporary poetry due in 24 hours worth 25%.
new habit- 2 cups of chai and one of coffee every day.
east meets west.
ph.d/masters English profs calling in from UBC to 'speak to the girl who made so bold a comment at the public lecture.'
of brothers growin up too fast, talkin' about pool and funk and squash and house.
techno techno techno
ida corr vs fedde le grand, lemme think about it.
all nighters,
48 hours of being continuously awake on a self-induced sugar high
discussions of manhood as a taboo in european literature: promoting or inhibiting the circulation of texts.
he stayed up with me.
exam in 72 hours. shit.
joint skype calls with him,his brother,his best friend, and me.
virtual dinners. virtual words.
virtual reality. escape.
high school friends. online reunions. video calls.
nostalgia. the old the forgotten the you.
the me the them.
they've changed. grown older.
sadder.
there was less laughter. more silence.
more sighs. more
news.
no news is good news.
dad. mum. precipice. perception.
jamun tells me the truth. she tells me lies.
she tells me the truth. jamun tells me lies.
which is which?
why am i so bent on believing lies because the truth is too painful?
why am i so bent on believing the truth, because the lies are too painful?
what is it really?
how are they really?
why is no one TELLING me what the hell is going on there?
run run run.
run away from them.
but i can't. i run back to them everytime.
no place like home? no place.
no peace.
watching 1942 A Love Story. too many dead people. too much melodrama.
eik ladki ko dekha to....
the man who used to sing that for me turned into a schizophrenic
who cries to me about his distant brother,sister,his deceased parents
his utter utter loneliness.
and when im the only one with him, i make secret calls from his bathroom,
'i'm alone with him. i'm scared. take me away.'
desert.
desserts. i want chocolate.
chocolate gives you acne. acne leaves scars.
scars don't go.
and pakis talk. about scars. about flaws. about how nothing is ever good enough.
pakistan. blood. tears. drama. politics. family. vacations.
new york. him.
can't wait.
weight.
i've lost weight. they tell me i look gaunt. my jeans look looser on me.
never had too much of an appetite.
canada.
if you want to stay here you'll live by the rules.
our rules. their rules. everyone's rules but your own.
no rules. new rules. fools.
all of them.
me included.
fool for not getting started on my paper already. sigh.
hum chalay dushmen jalay.
ram chand re.
:D
-eeda.
p.s
if u made it to the end of this post,
here's an aspirin.
and a hug.
=)
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
the difference between childhood and growing up is that
when you're a child, the world is never really there.
when you grow up, it never really leaves.
it always comes back and knocks on your door, and without asking
places itself back on your shoulders.
it does not ask if you can carry it, does not ask if it might be
hurting some part of you, if your shoulders are not sagging if
your back is not crumpling your
spine not bent broken dented with the
weight.
to the world,
the world appears light as a feather.
the undebatable monotony of everyday.
you wake up, you walk through your entire day as if following an unknown plan to add a bit of this person and a part of that feeling and a shard of that old forgotten hope or pain
back onto yourself.
you build these castles, carve into yourself these shelters these holes these little places of comfort for them and them and them
and forget
that maybe you need a place to crawl back into too? at the end of the day..
when the light fades out and you wonder if maybe under all those
people places masks faces
bones and bodies and nails and toes and flesh and blood and
ashes ashes ashes,
under all that, is there any bits of you left?
you search but you do not can not will not
find.
because you've forgotten if there ever was a you
because all there is now is this and that and them .
and under all of it
there is nothing.
no you.
That
is a scary thought to wake up to.
maybe that realization is what growing up is.
or maybe i just need another cup of coffee.
-eeda.
when you're a child, the world is never really there.
when you grow up, it never really leaves.
it always comes back and knocks on your door, and without asking
places itself back on your shoulders.
it does not ask if you can carry it, does not ask if it might be
hurting some part of you, if your shoulders are not sagging if
your back is not crumpling your
spine not bent broken dented with the
weight.
to the world,
the world appears light as a feather.
the undebatable monotony of everyday.
you wake up, you walk through your entire day as if following an unknown plan to add a bit of this person and a part of that feeling and a shard of that old forgotten hope or pain
back onto yourself.
you build these castles, carve into yourself these shelters these holes these little places of comfort for them and them and them
and forget
that maybe you need a place to crawl back into too? at the end of the day..
when the light fades out and you wonder if maybe under all those
people places masks faces
bones and bodies and nails and toes and flesh and blood and
ashes ashes ashes,
under all that, is there any bits of you left?
you search but you do not can not will not
find.
because you've forgotten if there ever was a you
because all there is now is this and that and them .
and under all of it
there is nothing.
no you.
That
is a scary thought to wake up to.
maybe that realization is what growing up is.
or maybe i just need another cup of coffee.
-eeda.
Monday, November 24, 2008
FORGIVENESS
I find no difficulty in forgiving
man,
and woman,
though that
can be somewhat
exacting,
on occasions.
BUT
only if,
every molecule of my skin
turned to dust
before my very eyes,
dust
that would cover
the shame of centuries:
only if,
the pungent waters of my sweat
flood out to disinfect
and wash away
the pain infested streets of history;
only if,
my tainted blood
became flesh,
meat everlasting
for subhumans of the world;
only if,
I died
each minute
of the day
that someone nicer than I,
had life,
and love,
and good looks too,
redeeming my ugliness;
then,
perhaps,
I might,
forgive God.
-- Adam Zameenzad c) 2008
i seek solace in knowing that God Himself
is all forgiving.
-eeda
I find no difficulty in forgiving
man,
and woman,
though that
can be somewhat
exacting,
on occasions.
BUT
only if,
every molecule of my skin
turned to dust
before my very eyes,
dust
that would cover
the shame of centuries:
only if,
the pungent waters of my sweat
flood out to disinfect
and wash away
the pain infested streets of history;
only if,
my tainted blood
became flesh,
meat everlasting
for subhumans of the world;
only if,
I died
each minute
of the day
that someone nicer than I,
had life,
and love,
and good looks too,
redeeming my ugliness;
then,
perhaps,
I might,
forgive God.
-- Adam Zameenzad c) 2008
i seek solace in knowing that God Himself
is all forgiving.
-eeda
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
the pursuit of happy-ness..
ive been in an idealistic mood lately.
trying to figure what it is that Really makes me happy.
Happy=having no limitations. no binds. no blindfolds.
Happy=whispered conversations with eheeeeeemmmm at 5 am.
Happy=my kinda weather. wet and wild
(NOT the cosmetics company)
Unhappy=having to pretend to be someone else. which ive been doing for a while, and it was okay,
but it's driving me insane now.
like.i feel what Gunther does, word.for.word.
i HATE people who are aggressive and violent.
i HATE being kept waiting.
i HATE chipped nail polish
or, maybe just dislike that fact.
hate is a strong word.
o,
i most Definitely HATE brown drama.
tho,i LOVE coffee.
( im a coffee-addict too apparently. so says the Are you a Coffee-Addict? Do you have the following symptoms? section of my Psyc textbook.)
o,
and i LOVE poetry.
like.
LOVE it.
there are VERY few things that make me as happy as a well recited poem.
Today we were supposed to meet a man called Indran Amirthanayagam, a renowned, critically acclaimed poet originally from Sri Lanka, who studied with Barack Obama, and is now working for the U.S consulate as a diplomat in Vancouver.
so in walks this weather-beaten guy in his early 40's, sparse hair rising like puffs of smoke in the centre of his bald head and thickening at the sides, a badly printed sweater, and a faded peach bengali handkerchief which he kept rubbing vigourously around his nose.
i was quite disappointed.
UNTIL.
he started to talk. and then read his poetry.
it was the singularly most uplifting experience i have ever had.
after he read his poem the class was too stunned with awe to say a word.
hushed silence, mouths open, hands half-raised in a forgotten clap.
i got to talk to him for an hour afterwards. he insisted on meeting and keeping in touch, and reading my stuff ( :D :D )..he was down to earth, and modest, despite having won numerous awards, despite the fact that he studied with Obama and ws gnna work directly with Hilary Clinton in the future,
despite all that.he'd be just another guy walking down the street you wouldn't look twice at.
New Rule.- don't judge a book by its cover.
Anyways, i got one of his books signed, ( he has illegible writing), and the afore-mentioned promise to keep in touch, and the address to his blog, which is quite long and doesn't have much of his work..ill b posting some up later.
but man.
MAN.
it was one of those moments when u Know:
this is what i wanna do for the rest of my life.
anyways, now that im slightly less star-struck, i can. hm.
hm
try and figure out how to get rid of coffee addiction?
considering that it's causing major headaches due to coffee-depravation
WHICH is due to the fact that i can't have coffee right now beause of a stomach bug/virus
WHICH my nurse calmly suggested to me ' could have been passed on through sexual intercourse'.
WHICH obviously lead to a full 15 minute discussion about my sexual history ( which i denied adamantly and Truthfully!)
*glares at suspicious blog readers*
ALL of WHICH she didn't quite believe.
Witch kaheen ki.
sorry i meant, churail.
i dont like the which witch-ing either.
no. making sexual innuendos out of everything does not constitue having a sexual history or being a sexually active individual.
i BEG to differ.
anyhooooooooooooooooo...going back to retarded school work.
update later.
missed u all :)
-eedzy beedzy..
lame..
yes, notice how the old giddy hyper eeda is back.
*hugs and cheeni all around*
ive been in an idealistic mood lately.
trying to figure what it is that Really makes me happy.
Happy=having no limitations. no binds. no blindfolds.
Happy=whispered conversations with eheeeeeemmmm at 5 am.
Happy=my kinda weather. wet and wild
(NOT the cosmetics company)
Unhappy=having to pretend to be someone else. which ive been doing for a while, and it was okay,
but it's driving me insane now.
like.i feel what Gunther does, word.for.word.
i HATE people who are aggressive and violent.
i HATE being kept waiting.
i HATE chipped nail polish
or, maybe just dislike that fact.
hate is a strong word.
o,
i most Definitely HATE brown drama.
tho,i LOVE coffee.
( im a coffee-addict too apparently. so says the Are you a Coffee-Addict? Do you have the following symptoms? section of my Psyc textbook.)
o,
and i LOVE poetry.
like.
LOVE it.
there are VERY few things that make me as happy as a well recited poem.
Today we were supposed to meet a man called Indran Amirthanayagam, a renowned, critically acclaimed poet originally from Sri Lanka, who studied with Barack Obama, and is now working for the U.S consulate as a diplomat in Vancouver.
so in walks this weather-beaten guy in his early 40's, sparse hair rising like puffs of smoke in the centre of his bald head and thickening at the sides, a badly printed sweater, and a faded peach bengali handkerchief which he kept rubbing vigourously around his nose.
i was quite disappointed.
UNTIL.
he started to talk. and then read his poetry.
it was the singularly most uplifting experience i have ever had.
after he read his poem the class was too stunned with awe to say a word.
hushed silence, mouths open, hands half-raised in a forgotten clap.
i got to talk to him for an hour afterwards. he insisted on meeting and keeping in touch, and reading my stuff ( :D :D )..he was down to earth, and modest, despite having won numerous awards, despite the fact that he studied with Obama and ws gnna work directly with Hilary Clinton in the future,
despite all that.he'd be just another guy walking down the street you wouldn't look twice at.
New Rule.- don't judge a book by its cover.
Anyways, i got one of his books signed, ( he has illegible writing), and the afore-mentioned promise to keep in touch, and the address to his blog, which is quite long and doesn't have much of his work..ill b posting some up later.
but man.
MAN.
it was one of those moments when u Know:
this is what i wanna do for the rest of my life.
anyways, now that im slightly less star-struck, i can. hm.
hm
try and figure out how to get rid of coffee addiction?
considering that it's causing major headaches due to coffee-depravation
WHICH is due to the fact that i can't have coffee right now beause of a stomach bug/virus
WHICH my nurse calmly suggested to me ' could have been passed on through sexual intercourse'.
WHICH obviously lead to a full 15 minute discussion about my sexual history ( which i denied adamantly and Truthfully!)
*glares at suspicious blog readers*
ALL of WHICH she didn't quite believe.
Witch kaheen ki.
sorry i meant, churail.
i dont like the which witch-ing either.
no. making sexual innuendos out of everything does not constitue having a sexual history or being a sexually active individual.
i BEG to differ.
anyhooooooooooooooooo...going back to retarded school work.
update later.
missed u all :)
-eedzy beedzy..
lame..
yes, notice how the old giddy hyper eeda is back.
*hugs and cheeni all around*
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
hinbin-ur so head over heels.
me-huh? about what?
hinbin-u know....
there is a gaping void in the parts of me i used to find u in.
i search for u there,
but it's as if uve already left, and only the hollow echoes of your presence remain.
somehow i can feel you physically unraveling away from me, tearin' apart piece by piece.
i shy away from my own reflection
because even i remind myself of you.
u were right.
for now,
Everything has tainted.
A Pill to forget: Can a medication suppress traumatic memories?
attempt at erasure poetry?
all the 'for' words are significant, out of context.
(words are randomli chosen from the 10th page of google searches.)
new mantra:-
forgive her forget him forgive him forget her
-end emo-
eeda
me-huh? about what?
hinbin-u know....
there is a gaping void in the parts of me i used to find u in.
i search for u there,
but it's as if uve already left, and only the hollow echoes of your presence remain.
somehow i can feel you physically unraveling away from me, tearin' apart piece by piece.
i shy away from my own reflection
because even i remind myself of you.
u were right.
for now,
Everything has tainted.
for
for
for
for better
for worse
A Pill to forget: Can a medication suppress traumatic memories?
Observant doesn't mean silent. It means speaking forcefully in measured tones about what is happening.
God forbid you be an ugly girl, 'course too pretty is also your doom, 'cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.
| forlorn; ,desolate, godforsaken,lorn, | ||
| marked by or showing hopelessness; "the last forlorn attempt"; "a forlorn cause" | ||
forgo : to do without; lose or lose the right to by some error, offense, or crime;
refrain.
refrain.
Will not be shaken and jump into this, And be persuasive, Just carry on, And make my mind up, To go through this, Or be firm, And sit in silence. So turn and (don't) forfeit.
I'm not afraid of death but oh
What will I do if you leave me?
Do not forsake me,
oh my darlin'
You made that promise as a bride
Do not forsake me, oh my darlin'
Although you're grievin', don't think of leavin'
What will I do if you leave me?
Do not forsake me,
oh my darlin'
You made that promise as a bride
Do not forsake me, oh my darlin'
Although you're grievin', don't think of leavin'
attempt at erasure poetry?
all the 'for' words are significant, out of context.
(words are randomli chosen from the 10th page of google searches.)
new mantra:-
forgive her forget him forgive him forget her
-end emo-
eeda
Monday, November 10, 2008
pagal-ness.
this one's for hinbin
eeda says-ok..alittle too much estrogen here.
hinbin says: ur face
eeda says: ur mum
eeda says: burnnnnnnnnnn
eeda says: hinbin KALI HOGAEE
eeda says: now hin and the fob can get MARRIED
eeda says: hahahahhaa
hinbin says: see how he ignored me today
hinbin says: aye hai
eeda says: well
eeda says: hes playing hard to get
eeda says: u need to up ur sex appeal huney
eeda says: do the hijab tease
eeda says: oye hoey hoeyyy
Hinbin says: fine, ill let out a strand of hair
Hinbin says: thats the slutiest ill go
eeda says: nope
eeda says: no can do
eeda says: u hav to let part of the hijab fall
eeda says: and say..OOOppppps
eeda says: and do the swish of the hair flick..and pin it back on
Hinbin says: then bend over to pick up what??
eeda says: no bending
eeda says: tho if u DO want to bend..
eeda says: he will get QUITE an eyeful
eeda says: ..EYESfull
eeda says: big bootay big boootay biig bootay..uh uh whoop whoop big bootay.
........
Hinbin says: i luv being on ur blog
Hinbin says: its like starrin in a book or somethin
Hinbin says: and u noe how much i love being in the light :)
eeda says: aaaahahahhaha
eeda says: Pagal
eeda says: sum people are too special to mention
eeda says: u bring them in the limelight and they lose their sparkle
eeda says: their ur..dirty lil secret
these words are my own
from my heart flow
i love you i love you i love you i love you.. <3
-Nat bed-in-field.
:P
thank u for the shoulder.
sorry about the jacket.
no im not wiping nothing off it. the jacket is urs, anything that previously belonged to me which is now on ur jacket,
is urs too.
deal with it.
<3
-eeda
eeda says-ok..alittle too much estrogen here.
hinbin says: ur face
eeda says: ur mum
eeda says: burnnnnnnnnnn
eeda says: hinbin KALI HOGAEE
eeda says: now hin and the fob can get MARRIED
eeda says: hahahahhaa
hinbin says: see how he ignored me today
hinbin says: aye hai
eeda says: well
eeda says: hes playing hard to get
eeda says: u need to up ur sex appeal huney
eeda says: do the hijab tease
eeda says: oye hoey hoeyyy
Hinbin says: fine, ill let out a strand of hair
Hinbin says: thats the slutiest ill go
eeda says: nope
eeda says: no can do
eeda says: u hav to let part of the hijab fall
eeda says: and say..OOOppppps
eeda says: and do the swish of the hair flick..and pin it back on
Hinbin says: then bend over to pick up what??
eeda says: no bending
eeda says: tho if u DO want to bend..
eeda says: he will get QUITE an eyeful
eeda says: ..EYESfull
eeda says: big bootay big boootay biig bootay..uh uh whoop whoop big bootay.
........
Hinbin says: i luv being on ur blog
Hinbin says: its like starrin in a book or somethin
Hinbin says: and u noe how much i love being in the light :)
eeda says: aaaahahahhaha
eeda says: Pagal
eeda says: sum people are too special to mention
eeda says: u bring them in the limelight and they lose their sparkle
eeda says: their ur..dirty lil secret
these words are my own
from my heart flow
i love you i love you i love you i love you.. <3
-Nat bed-in-field.
:P
thank u for the shoulder.
sorry about the jacket.
no im not wiping nothing off it. the jacket is urs, anything that previously belonged to me which is now on ur jacket,
is urs too.
deal with it.
<3
-eeda
Sunday, November 9, 2008
This is a SPECIAL MENTION to crack.
thank u, 'cuz ura crackhead.
and incidentally, the only male that reads my blog.
(which may mean one of two things. ur too female for me to consider u a male, or ur just plain as cracked as i am.)
id like to think its the second of the two reasons ( so that u dont kill me).
My mother's side of the family has a very distinct rift between it.
There's Group A----> consisting of khala and nana, and sometimes nani.
1. extreme anti-touch. limited physical contact. very practical, almost to the point its brutal. very very very persistent, and equally as egotistic without realizing it.
Group B---->nani and ammi.
alternate from anti-touch to touch-me-lots. VERY emotional. ( to the point that the song Dulhay ka sehra causes an almost instant room flooding with tears and the like.) o, and equally as stubborn.
me? im in the middle
so, khala (shes from the anti-touch group) comes into my room, and says ' Farida, stand up.'
i walk over to the middle of my room
she gives me a huge hug.
she says' appa told me to do this. she said eeda would instantly go back to the old eeda.'
ACK! im not THAT desperate okay.
but, a hug does go a Loooooooooongggggggggggggggggggggggg way with me.
and i missed being able to curl up around ammi or deeju.
obviously, it was an instant tear-jerker moment ( for me, once she was out the room) what with all the crap that has been going around.
I dont think i can go back to being the old eeda though, despite how much that hug meant. it must have taken khala alot to do what she did, but then again i wouldn't be half as depressed and suicidal if she hadn't done what she did in the first place.
it's a very bitter sweet spot to be in.
and it's getting very difficult to reconcile the two. him, and them.
he makes me strong, and they make me weak.
he makes me stand up, and they make me give in.
and both of them make me equally vulnerable.
u know what? POORI duniya ka dimagh kharab hai. that's it. end of story.
mera bhi dimagh kharab hai.
aur, honay wala hai.
but then, he calls. and she hugs. and somehow.i dunno.
WHY is it so easy for me to forgive!
i know u all are prolli thinking now shes REALLI lost it.
well. maybe.
ill put up the chronological series-of-VERY-unfortunate-events-soon.
but for right now,
eeda is ..well not happy..bt calm, in a very chaotic way...does that make sense?
in my twisted little mind. it does.
me thinks im getting decidedly bi-polar. i spent the entire day in a state of extreme shock/numbness, only snapping out of it to randomi cry cuz i saw things tht reminded me of him too much.
and now im elated. almost.
hecalledhecalledhecalled.
ill explain the significance of that at a later date.
but honestly, SERIOUSLI. BOHOT pagal-pana hai.
thank u, 'cuz ura crackhead.
and incidentally, the only male that reads my blog.
(which may mean one of two things. ur too female for me to consider u a male, or ur just plain as cracked as i am.)
id like to think its the second of the two reasons ( so that u dont kill me).
My mother's side of the family has a very distinct rift between it.
There's Group A----> consisting of khala and nana, and sometimes nani.
1. extreme anti-touch. limited physical contact. very practical, almost to the point its brutal. very very very persistent, and equally as egotistic without realizing it.
Group B---->nani and ammi.
alternate from anti-touch to touch-me-lots. VERY emotional. ( to the point that the song Dulhay ka sehra causes an almost instant room flooding with tears and the like.) o, and equally as stubborn.
me? im in the middle
so, khala (shes from the anti-touch group) comes into my room, and says ' Farida, stand up.'
i walk over to the middle of my room
she gives me a huge hug.
she says' appa told me to do this. she said eeda would instantly go back to the old eeda.'
ACK! im not THAT desperate okay.
but, a hug does go a Loooooooooongggggggggggggggggggggggg way with me.
and i missed being able to curl up around ammi or deeju.
obviously, it was an instant tear-jerker moment ( for me, once she was out the room) what with all the crap that has been going around.
I dont think i can go back to being the old eeda though, despite how much that hug meant. it must have taken khala alot to do what she did, but then again i wouldn't be half as depressed and suicidal if she hadn't done what she did in the first place.
it's a very bitter sweet spot to be in.
and it's getting very difficult to reconcile the two. him, and them.
he makes me strong, and they make me weak.
he makes me stand up, and they make me give in.
and both of them make me equally vulnerable.
u know what? POORI duniya ka dimagh kharab hai. that's it. end of story.
mera bhi dimagh kharab hai.
aur, honay wala hai.
but then, he calls. and she hugs. and somehow.i dunno.
WHY is it so easy for me to forgive!
i know u all are prolli thinking now shes REALLI lost it.
well. maybe.
ill put up the chronological series-of-VERY-unfortunate-events-soon.
but for right now,
eeda is ..well not happy..bt calm, in a very chaotic way...does that make sense?
in my twisted little mind. it does.
me thinks im getting decidedly bi-polar. i spent the entire day in a state of extreme shock/numbness, only snapping out of it to randomi cry cuz i saw things tht reminded me of him too much.
and now im elated. almost.
hecalledhecalledhecalled.
ill explain the significance of that at a later date.
but honestly, SERIOUSLI. BOHOT pagal-pana hai.
| What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up Like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode? -Dream deferred, by Langston Hughes. photo credits by sweet_as_hell on deviantart.com |
being grateful..
to people who care.
*shuffles feet*
i want to give a HUGE emo thank u to..
neelo, for ur lamba sa emo email. i LOVED it, but havent gotten around to replying it.
to chun chun, for the countless offline messages on msn. i <3 thee michar.
to gunther. for the mini im-freaking-out-here-blog. we needs to comm-u-ni-cate soon.
to marina. for the mini-im-freaking-out-here comments. freaks. <3
to hinbin. for caring and calling.
and for the extra long e-hugs.
i <3 thee all.. and i knw we're all a bunch of overly dramatic emo brown bloggers.
ill eventually get around to lettin u knw whut happened, itll b on metaphorical. :)
-eeda
*shuffles feet*
i want to give a HUGE emo thank u to..
neelo, for ur lamba sa emo email. i LOVED it, but havent gotten around to replying it.
to chun chun, for the countless offline messages on msn. i <3 thee michar.
to gunther. for the mini im-freaking-out-here-blog. we needs to comm-u-ni-cate soon.
to marina. for the mini-im-freaking-out-here comments. freaks. <3
to hinbin. for caring and calling.
and for the extra long e-hugs.
i <3 thee all.. and i knw we're all a bunch of overly dramatic emo brown bloggers.
ill eventually get around to lettin u knw whut happened, itll b on metaphorical. :)
-eeda
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
i wish i could
slit my wrists and lie in my own pool of blood till it burns black brown blue you.
i want you to mix in with my flaws my imperfections my weaknesses my vulnerability my blood me.
flow back in
pulsate
pound
rush
flow
throb along my clogged dry calloused sinews veins arteries heart and beat with me,
beat with every heartbeat every broken pulse every long withdrawn breathe that fails to reach my lungs and my heart.
beat with me as the oxygen runs out into the pool i lie dying in of life and love and you.
beat with me as you flow around and see this happening but feel just as suffocated and trapped and utterly utterly helpless as i do.
beat with me when i struggle for breath.beat beat beat my name in every cell.
beat with me and urge me to stay awake to the dying dreams of u which dapple like shadows skirting out of sight shadows that bid adieu shadows of blue in shades of you
beat with me as this body that you loved and cherished wracks its way to skies wracks its way to heaven to hell wracks its way tiptoeing on the fingerprints you left on it , the fingerprints on the burnt brown bruises where you calloused my tender skin with salty lips and broken promises.
beat with me. beat me.
beat
till i know not nothing till i know not numb till my mind turns weak and bleak like an unsung poem
beat with me
till the blacks and the blues and the many hues of u choke my eyelids my nose my mouth until all i see is a faded blue
all i see is me and you.
those are not my wrists.wish they were.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Just when i thought this day could NOT be fixed, it did.
God has a VERY interesting sense of humor indeed.
some non-english speaking guy found my phone on the bus and got his room-mate to call the last received call on my cell phone (which was him. actually, the last 20 would've been him) sssssooo obviously he passed on the message to me, i squealed like a cat having its tail pulled, i called up the guy who found my phone, and we have a date at king george station tomorrow at 6 30.
:D
he says- the phone was lost. and its shut off. No one is EVER gnna return that phone.
me-this isn't new york. people actually do good deeds here.
him-i seriously doubt it. but let's see.
*afterwards*
me-is ur hope in humanity restored now?
him-well, Obama did get elected..BUT you can't trust someone u don't know, when u go meet this guy make sure u have someone with u.. even if it's prissy boy.
( he calls Nad prissy boy, which I find hilarious.)
But,
to hell with whutever he says.
I certainly have a much rosier view of the world, and i wnna go and give BIG HUGE ima-squash-you-into-two kinda hugs to everyone who returns cell phones ot their owners.
O.
AND i backed up most of my files on the laptop.
AND my laptop is actually working right now. not perfectly, but heck it i have all my files.
AND
life is fucking brilliant.
haey <3
thank u thank u thank u Allah.
-eeda.
God has a VERY interesting sense of humor indeed.
some non-english speaking guy found my phone on the bus and got his room-mate to call the last received call on my cell phone (which was him. actually, the last 20 would've been him) sssssooo obviously he passed on the message to me, i squealed like a cat having its tail pulled, i called up the guy who found my phone, and we have a date at king george station tomorrow at 6 30.
:D
he says- the phone was lost. and its shut off. No one is EVER gnna return that phone.
me-this isn't new york. people actually do good deeds here.
him-i seriously doubt it. but let's see.
*afterwards*
me-is ur hope in humanity restored now?
him-well, Obama did get elected..BUT you can't trust someone u don't know, when u go meet this guy make sure u have someone with u.. even if it's prissy boy.
( he calls Nad prissy boy, which I find hilarious.)
But,
to hell with whutever he says.
I certainly have a much rosier view of the world, and i wnna go and give BIG HUGE ima-squash-you-into-two kinda hugs to everyone who returns cell phones ot their owners.
O.
AND i backed up most of my files on the laptop.
AND my laptop is actually working right now. not perfectly, but heck it i have all my files.
AND
life is fucking brilliant.
haey <3
thank u thank u thank u Allah.
-eeda.
so
just when i thought this day couldn't, in any way, go worse.
i dropped my phone in the bus.
and it's shut off.
which means either of 2 things.
1.whoever has it wants to keep it.
2.it's wedged in at a place where there's no service
and since the fucking ringer is on vibrate, even if i DID call, no one would hear it.
AND the lost and found stupid fucking service doesnt work till 11 tomorow fucking morning.
AND WORST of all, there is no way i can talk to him right now.
i swear i think im either going to dissolve into tears, or bang my head on the wall till it smashes. i could NOT give a fuck either way.
this is fcking insane.
in-fucking-sane.
just when i thought this day couldn't, in any way, go worse.
i dropped my phone in the bus.
and it's shut off.
which means either of 2 things.
1.whoever has it wants to keep it.
2.it's wedged in at a place where there's no service
and since the fucking ringer is on vibrate, even if i DID call, no one would hear it.
AND the lost and found stupid fucking service doesnt work till 11 tomorow fucking morning.
AND WORST of all, there is no way i can talk to him right now.
i swear i think im either going to dissolve into tears, or bang my head on the wall till it smashes. i could NOT give a fuck either way.
this is fcking insane.
in-fucking-sane.
me thinks what this overtly emo blog needs is a good old eeda-style Rant
so.
ive been missing again, apparently.
it's funny, everyone seems to notice im gone, but me.
me thinks im losing im mind.
i had a paper due monday worth 10% of my grade i conveniently didnt know about.
i have a midterm in 2 days i had no clue about until the last 15 minutes ago.
and o, my laptop decided to be a major bitchass drama-fucking-queen and go KA-put on me, which means it needs to be sent in for repair and all that jazz, which means i'm gnna b off the face of this planet for ANOTHER fuckin 15 days.
and in the fuckin meantime i need to book my ticket online, write up my essays, talk to dad, get info for my fuckin bank account which ofcourse ALL requires the use of my stupid laptop which from this moment henceforth i will not have.
AND on top of which my aunt has suddenly takien it upon herself to step in for my conscience, which she thinks has 'left the building' so to speak., for which reason she keeps reminding me of how much of dad's hard earned money im throwing around and this and that and all fuckin bull shit.
i KNOW all of that, okay? it kills me TWICE as much as it does to u, i can fucking assure u that. who gives you the right to ram it down my throat ? AND who gives u the right to come snooping into my room every two fuckin seconds to see who im talking to and why im talking to them and what im talking to them about. liek SERIOUSLY do u NOT have a life of ur own u can worry about?
-eeda is NOT pleased right now-
in fact, eeda is about to start screaming.
in like 2 minutes flat.
i don't know what i'd do without him. seriousli. as emo as it is, he keeps me sane. he fixes things the best way he can sitting 4000 miles away. and it's just good to be able to swear and yell at someone who won't get mad at u, which is me being totally selfish and oppurtunistic but.hm.
but on the brightr side. im going to pakistan in decemebr! :D :D :D
for all my paki stalkers we need a reunion,...in karachi!? PLEASE?
hmm.
and o, on another bright side, a dark man has finally become president of a so-called liberated and equal-treatement-for-all country after 220 years of its existence.
well, they had to start somewhere.
and hm. 2 weeks without my laptop. man.
AWwwwwwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
i need some mocha.
right.fucking.now.
-eeda
so.
ive been missing again, apparently.
it's funny, everyone seems to notice im gone, but me.
me thinks im losing im mind.
i had a paper due monday worth 10% of my grade i conveniently didnt know about.
i have a midterm in 2 days i had no clue about until the last 15 minutes ago.
and o, my laptop decided to be a major bitchass drama-fucking-queen and go KA-put on me, which means it needs to be sent in for repair and all that jazz, which means i'm gnna b off the face of this planet for ANOTHER fuckin 15 days.
and in the fuckin meantime i need to book my ticket online, write up my essays, talk to dad, get info for my fuckin bank account which ofcourse ALL requires the use of my stupid laptop which from this moment henceforth i will not have.
AND on top of which my aunt has suddenly takien it upon herself to step in for my conscience, which she thinks has 'left the building' so to speak., for which reason she keeps reminding me of how much of dad's hard earned money im throwing around and this and that and all fuckin bull shit.
i KNOW all of that, okay? it kills me TWICE as much as it does to u, i can fucking assure u that. who gives you the right to ram it down my throat ? AND who gives u the right to come snooping into my room every two fuckin seconds to see who im talking to and why im talking to them and what im talking to them about. liek SERIOUSLY do u NOT have a life of ur own u can worry about?
-eeda is NOT pleased right now-
in fact, eeda is about to start screaming.
in like 2 minutes flat.
i don't know what i'd do without him. seriousli. as emo as it is, he keeps me sane. he fixes things the best way he can sitting 4000 miles away. and it's just good to be able to swear and yell at someone who won't get mad at u, which is me being totally selfish and oppurtunistic but.hm.
but on the brightr side. im going to pakistan in decemebr! :D :D :D
for all my paki stalkers we need a reunion,...in karachi!? PLEASE?
hmm.
and o, on another bright side, a dark man has finally become president of a so-called liberated and equal-treatement-for-all country after 220 years of its existence.
well, they had to start somewhere.
and hm. 2 weeks without my laptop. man.
AWwwwwwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
i need some mocha.
right.fucking.now.
-eeda
Saturday, November 1, 2008
When i told you that this Halloween
i was going as just myself
because then, for the first time,
i wouldn't be in costume.
('cuz i celebrate Halloween every day)
o, and i love fireworks.
she stands transfixed below the purple sky, gazing numbly at the chaos above.
'Fireworks are ..Divine', she whispers.
'What do you mean?'
'When i see a firework.......... it feels almost like millions of little angels are squeezing in through every choked pore in my skin, ripping out a strand of me and splashing it out across the sky. Those electric blues and sunshine yellows and sharp greens and reds as red as blood-curdling screams...those are all me.those are all you.'
She pauses,then softly..
'And those little angels up there,
they're painting our stories across the sky.'
photo credits Purple fireworks by ~kil1k
So, yeah
we went to see a fireworks show last night.
the grand finale of the fireworks was on the song 'Moondance'
coincidence? yes. ofcourse i HAD to call him.
and it was this moment. him singing along to moondance with me in one ear, and the fireworks shattering like spontaneous heartbreaks above, and the background sound like of gunshots and war.
it was just.this.moment.
in short, the show was in.creh.dih.ble. and i was :O :O :O the entire time.
<3>so i've been a leeeeettle out of the radar lately ( sincerest apologies)...
it's kinda interesting to know that nowadays its twice as much fun reading the comments on blogs as opposed to the blogs themselves..and it's a MAD tedious task keeping up with comments too.
i was going as just myself
i wasn't lying.
because then, for the first time,
i wouldn't be in costume.
('cuz i celebrate Halloween every day)
o, and i love fireworks.
she stands transfixed below the purple sky, gazing numbly at the chaos above.
'Fireworks are ..Divine', she whispers.
'What do you mean?'
'When i see a firework.......... it feels almost like millions of little angels are squeezing in through every choked pore in my skin, ripping out a strand of me and splashing it out across the sky. Those electric blues and sunshine yellows and sharp greens and reds as red as blood-curdling screams...those are all me.those are all you.'
She pauses,then softly..
'And those little angels up there,
they're painting our stories across the sky.'
photo credits Purple fireworks by ~kil1k
So, yeah
we went to see a fireworks show last night.
the grand finale of the fireworks was on the song 'Moondance'
coincidence? yes. ofcourse i HAD to call him.
and it was this moment. him singing along to moondance with me in one ear, and the fireworks shattering like spontaneous heartbreaks above, and the background sound like of gunshots and war.
it was just.this.moment.
i have it sketched to memory.
in short, the show was in.creh.dih.ble. and i was :O :O :O the entire time.
<3>so i've been a leeeeettle out of the radar lately ( sincerest apologies)...
it's kinda interesting to know that nowadays its twice as much fun reading the comments on blogs as opposed to the blogs themselves..and it's a MAD tedious task keeping up with comments too.
so.
yeah.
yeaaaaaaaaaaah.
gtta get going..goin to this brown dawat with lotsa brown clothes and brown food and general stiff brownie-ness.
thrilled?
ECSTATIC.
not.
Urg! update soon. love all of youzeeee!
-eeda
yeah.
yeaaaaaaaaaaah.
gtta get going..goin to this brown dawat with lotsa brown clothes and brown food and general stiff brownie-ness.
thrilled?
ECSTATIC.
not.
Urg! update soon. love all of youzeeee!
-eeda
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)