13th december-20th december.

for the happiest week of my life,

i have lived within you as if in a dream.

thank you.

and in other news....

...the boy knows how to DANCE.








SALSA!!!!!
:D



i is a happy duckie.
-eeda

Drug- 'Jamaican people eat alot of fish man, they're like the kalu version of Bengali people.'

Bhahahahaa... my racist jaan :)
-eeda

for friends who remove the stones on your shoulder, and turn them to glitter fairy dust.
for friends who stand by your mistakes.
for friends who don't judge.
and for friendships that last despite time, despite distance.

armie. thank u
you saved me tonight.
<3

quoted.

'See, I can see you exactly as how you are'

'Who am I?'

'A very scared little girl.'

Despite the facade.


Never fun having the shell cracked by a complete stranger.
Don't see right through me.


How do I fix the world?

'That responsibility is Not yours'

if only, lekin nahee.

'You know, you're beautiful. he'll never leave you'

drunken compliments or truth proclamations?

'Don't leave. I wanna come back and find you.'
I wait for no one. I'm Sorry.


Insomnia.
I havent slept in 5 days, maybe a total of 12 hours of sleep spread out. If that.
+ a meal a day.
If that.

Spiraling.................Senselessly.

-eeda.

'i am not in control.

but its interesting to pretend.'

-abondonment-

eeda- hey, u want a banana?
steph-sure.
eeda- i like how we both like bananas
stpeh- i know, even though i've never tried one before
eeda-bananas are sooooo good. theyre the best.
-on sexually explicit conversations about Runts (fruit shaped candy).
:P

hahahahaha.. this to 30 page marketing papers, migraines, Asian legs and Brown hair.
<3
-eeda

Happiness is not about having what you want but wanting what you have.
-says wise person.  


and that's why i love you. i couldn't figure it out earlier and it used to frustrate the F out of me why id go for you when you were nothing like what i wanted in a person.
but now i have you, and that is where i find my happiness.
thank u.

-This, for people who can see through you, and will give up a saturday night of fun parties and boys to listen to you speak about heartaches and breakups instead, even tho they dont have any idea where you're coming from-

Awesome bonding time with roomate.
Thank you Candice.
<3

-Eeda.

ill call this one... -crumblecake-

its not like i dont have things to be grateful for. i do.
but family is far, friends are further, and nightmares are still too close to home.
i am grateful for us, the most beautiful time ive known.


i wish there were things, other than heartache, to talk about.
but really, what is the point of recording the momentary in-betweens?
thats whut disney and fairytales are for.



i think of u in between spaces and screams, bus rides and rain drops,
phonecalls, shattered window panes, hysteria and grief.
the numbness spreads behind the facade, freezing nerve endings, synapses to
feel no pain show no signs of annhiliation lest
you break your resolve. this
is for You, afterall. I
refuse
to crumble at your feet, you need
to leave me behind.
(crawling in your wake).
Heartbreak underrated, what are we to name
this shattering of soul, of faith,
Hope. no words to name the
Nothing that is left
(of you, of i)


what wudnt i give to hear from you again?


pathetic.
bleargh.
Eeda. you are stronger than this.
yes u are. u are. u are u are u are. even if ur alone within these mocha coloured walls, so far from home. even if you dont know anyone in this house of familiar strange faces, even though at night you will no one to call upon when you start seeing faces in the shadows again. even though there is nothing ot fall back upon anymore,
even then, you will be stronger than this.
please?
please.

Today, I used text-to-speech just so that I can hear "I love you" for once. FML
#6377281 (97)

On 11/20/2009 at 2:29am - love - by lonelyman (man) - United States (Florida)

........



Lonely creature by the bar, blue shot glass, crystal vodka,... swimming mascara and empty eyes, the remnants of his goodbye..
The walls are oddly luminiscent, silver chandelier painted onto blood red, ceiling floor corner red. She gives herself up to the noise and the exhilaration, oblivious to the wandering hands around her waist, the stranger casually caressing her hair. It is about the lights tonight, not him. Just the lights.

The silver bursts like a twitching electric eel in aquamarine darkness. There is silence in this cacophony, depth in the materialistic shallowness. She passes from the arms of one into another, lightly held as if even they can sense her fragility.
'I can tell, you are having a bad night love'

The best night ever, actually. The oblivion, the drunkness, the hysteria subdued in the chaos, the cold night. Dark enough to obliterate everything, save one. Her thoughts find him, even in the daze. His face shimmers like a seraph.
Come home to me jaan.

She spins like a ballerina, a whirlwind before the Eyes. Spins, unravelling her dark secrets in strips of crimson cloth memories nightmares silently cried out. Silent.
find a way home find a way home find a way like a mantra. They are bewitched hypnotic by her fear her grief and her fire. They burn with her, scorched, screaming, and yet healed by her hysteria, convinced that to annihilate the soul is to find Peace.

what hurts the most is the fact that you didn't even bother to ask what it meant, when you didn't understand.

To You, from Me, with Love.


Loving you is a scary thing.
Frightening, nerve-wrecking,terrifying.
I exaggerate,
but not this time.

You are old, that is true. Your wisdom and experience intimidate me,make me put myself to shame. I feel i am small, minuscule, unworthy of your attention, can be easily dismissed. You do not dismiss me, and that is scary. I feel i need to grow myself up every time i need to reach you, as if you are standing on an invisible, unreachable tier above me. I question myself whether I really should be forcing myself to do so, so soon, so often, and whether I really want to. I am immature and childish still; but I hide this away from you like hideous, repulsive flaws in my soul, lest you ridicule, laugh at me. I know you love me far too much to ever stoop to that level, but I feel i must put on this invisible facade of maturity every time to find your approval, for you are far up high, out of grasp.

At first it was this that had made us special, or made me fall for you. Attention from higher quarters for a lost, broken soul like me? I was pleased, felt praised,noticed, loved. I flew higher above clouds and rainbows, walked on starry night skies with my head held up high.

Now, i shuffle feet in your wake. I feel our conversations attach invisible hooks to my shoulders and drag me up towards you, and that is the only way i can feel equal to you, connect with you. It is tiring, and painful sometimes, draining...but comforting when you promise you will heal and look after me,and that above all
you love me..
It is then i feel no shame in curling up into a little ball, lying at your feet. No shame in this belittling vulnerability.

There are times i feel patronized, when you, like them, point out my flaws and tell me to become a certain way, a certain person. I am not Anyone but Me, and i wish to evade everything that shapes me otherwise, even if it is you. I feel threatened, my identity at the risk of annihilation, and so i push push and push everything and everyone away from me with an unjustified malevolence,sudden hostility and undeserved bitterness. It is instinctive self-preservation you see, i am overwhelmed by everyone encroaching the little sphere i call and know as my own, leaving me feeling betrayed, invaded.

It may be that I am too proud to ask for some space, but i make sure my actions with you will warrant me that. I am so deeply sorry I become that person, spiteful and vicious, it isn't your fault. I just feel an instinctive need to protect everything I am, like a mother protects her firstborn, like a young girl protects herself from lecherous eyes and probing hands. Maybe that is what it is, that particular incident  in the past has caused me to become over-protective of myself. I know this is little in the way of justification for how I sometimes treat you, but i need you to understand. I act dominating not because I am that way, or because I want to be that way with you, but because on the contrary i feel i am trampled upon, flattened, violated.

It is a complicated monotony I have no other way of explaining. I know only this, that despite everything, despite me, you love me. You remain fixated,the one stable element in my chaotic life as i travel across continents, shift universities, shift homes from city to city, from suburb to suburb. You are the constant, the immovable, the calm center in the cacophony of my life.    
And I know that when I am done being bitter, when i am done pushing you away, when i am done crushing you with sarcasm and jibes, when I am done being dominating or falling apart, i know you are always there,

And I know that I still love you despite the consuming fear,
despite the fact that
Loving you is a scary thing.







I just hope you understand that this is why I am ...controlling at times. The need to feel that you are not the only one who can overwhelm me, that i have as much say in this too. I hope you understand my sudden bouts of immaturity, i need to know that i can still feel that, that you are okay with it, that is is okay to be that person still, that i am 20 and not 35. I hope you understand why i feel like i am not living life as youthfully as i should, i spent my entire life convinced that the only way to be is to be mature, and so i always tried to be years more mature than i was to find that approval from everyone, above all my father. It is only now i have realized what i have lost. i yearn for that lost time, i yearn to let my hair down, stop being so uptight, to not care for the consquences of my actions, to not worry so much about every little detail, to do something daring, to be carefree and Enjoy every.second.of.it.
i just hope understand, that above all. i love you.

(This one's about the afterglow)

i hide behind the bedsheets,

naked in your skin and my flaws, reeling

in the aftermath of your 

tenderness

..its you and the roses...

:)



-eeda

'cuz jaan...

no matter how many 18 year old mexican guys i dance with ...

or no matter which chilean exchange student tries to strike up a flirtatious convo with me......

at the end of the day,

no matter what

im gnna come home to you.

-eeda

kick up your heels ladies..... lets dance :)

Drug: (in perfect seriousness)
'My cat has a personality disorder. It keeps acting like a dog. It needs to go find itself.'


hahahahhahahahahahahhahahaaaaaaaaaa!!!
made my night :)

There is a Reason,

other than bipolar disorder,

which causes moments of extreme ecstasy,

followed by insurmountable grief

and that is Love.

this, for the greatest weekend of my life.
Nov  5th to Nov 8th.

-eeda

Why are landlords always assholes?
and always disorganized?
and never willing to co-operate as long as they their money?
and tell you you can move in 4 days soon as they furnish your room, but take 2 weeks to do it?
AND dont tell you about the delay unless YOU call them everyday to remind them and pester them?
and promise you you can move in tomorow but then say oops, we still didnt install the door to the room or a lock yet, but ofcourse you can keep your stuff in cuz its Oh-So-Safe?
and theyll have it by monday i-promise-you and why are you freaking out cuz its working-out-oh-so-nicely?

Please explain.

Someone very wise once said
'It is foolish to try and please everyone'

yes. and draining, and frustrating, and depressing.
you constantly feel as if you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,
and that no matter how much you struggle and how much you smile at it and how much you sit and waste yourself away by bits and pieces, and see yourself going up in flames and smoke becuase that IS what makes them happy, you realize that this still isn't enough to please everyone. it definitely isn't enough to please yourself.
At the end of the day no matter how much you love them and how intensely you care for them, you can never make them happy if you don't make yourself happy first, and your happiness SHOULD NEVER lie in anyone else's happiness. That will fuck you up.

And oh, don't EVER try to rationalize with a depressed person. EVER.
even if you love them, even if you care immensely for them, even if you have hope that inside some part of their messed up brain they still have a single iota of rationale and concern for you, and that they will overcome their own petty self-destruction to let you go and set you free. they wont. theyll drag you down with it.

and there is Nothing you can do to help them.
-eeda

stop farida.. stop.

Peshawer.

29th October 2009.

Mark this day as the one Humanity sunk to its most pathetic state.

Time of the Month+Cramps+deficiency of certain reqd. female materials+HR midterm worth 40%+4.am+lack of study+massive cold and headache+studying in basement with no heater+homesickness=

bitch.ari me.

(times 10)

*iwantsmymommyyyyyyyyy*

-eeda

we are all just

bound to become a pile of disintegrating secrets,

tightly clenched mysteries with-held

in an overtly cynical protective grasp.

lest you reveal anything,
and dare feel the most minuscule
rejection.

.... the saddest part of all this is that when you die, 

No one

will Know the person you were....

stupid chilling epiphanies at odd hours in the subway.
*sigh*






.

On the bright side, im moving soon into my own tiny little place closer to school.
yay for *finally* getting away from the brown fudgin' unnecessary drama.
:)

-eeda

...wasting my life away at bus-stops....

Welcome to Toronto.

-eeda.

there is something inherently fucked up
in having to shoulder up and be a Man everyday
when,
on the contrary,
you constantly feel as if you are
an
insignificant 
little 
girl.

'which one of us will be the ass then?'

ur not.

another pebble in my shoe.

'am I a bad person?'

ur bad because ur too good.

(and ur good cuz i love you)

it's a good thing, it's a good thing says he.

good thing. it's cuz im not there.

i will miss you i will miss you said she.

Again.
and Again.
and Again.

(if nothing,

the distance WILL fuck you up)

.....................

Epilogue.

its raining its raining said she.

its raining, but inside me.

-eeda 

(i still love you) 

us say bhi zada.

Stats assignments SUCK!
add toothache, and uve got a winner for DoubleShittySucker of the Year.


*confetti*

i would call this feeling 'being high' but i have nothing really to compare it with.

my mind is floating on silverbluegreen clouds just above my head. i watch it distantly, amused, like someone watches a beetle on its back trying to flip over again.

there is this knocking, tapping sound like someone is ripping apart a keyboard the way a surgeon slices through gums. i am thinking of my teeth extraction sometime soon and im petrified, i have noone to hold.

i actually crave to be knocked into that little black hole again like a starburst in the solar system and time stops and u wake up they tell u 'its over' and its the one ending ur actually happy about. i just dont want to vomit blood and lie in bed like a shivering pitiful caterpillar afterwards.

this here thing is painful and ive realized that among one of the many wonderful side-effects of pain such as pms-ing even when ur not supposed can also include bouts of increased homesickness and waking dreams where ur 20 second walk down the corridor to the bedroom reminds u almost painfully of walking next to the 10 feet tall palm trees lining the coast next to the mediterranean.
the cool whiff of air the pink houses in the background the brilliant gold sunset purple dew and the tp tp tp gentle falling rain, dad racing by in his white Peugot only to stop and dance out in the rain in his black suit at midnight, his laughter shimmering brighter than the staryskies.

i sometimes wonder why it is im letting them down or is it just my hyper over analytical mind that needs to dissect everything on a chopping board and insert needles into this blob of a numb blue brain and ask questions like why-the-hell-did-they-just-think-that and omg-what-now and wtf-just-shut-up im so fucking Delirious.

my mind is racing down the road like a frisbee with no return policy like a horse seen blood like a car without wheels im careening and what do you do when ur chasing round a circular track and theres no deadendsdeadendsdeadfuckingend?

-i need to stop chasing imaginary pink rabbits with multicoloured whiskers and settle down in a corner of the room now-

whoooooooooop
yeah.

143 <3

the most important thing i've realized throughout all of this, is that despite the fact, or actually, because of the fact that i squabble with him, and yet keep coming back to him, can only mean one thing:

 i

very much.

-eeda

now,
we wait.
to see which one of us snaps first and messages the other one.

its a game of cat and mouse, two sides of the screen, two ends of the world, one side of a heart.


WHY is this so difficult?
i wish i didnt have an ego. it would be easier. :S

i hate stupid insignificant petty rambles.
its sad this is what uve reduced me to.

ive already lost you.
defeat is perhaps the hardest thing to bear.

damage control.

it kindasorta hurts that you don't find the need to share anything anymore.

so, i'm breaking the habit tonight.

its funny, ive been giving advice to You for how-to-patch-things-up-and-avoid-awkward-convos. Funny, 'cuz despite all odds i now need the exact.same.advice.

'tis a pity pity pity it gotta come to this.

our ''conversation'' lasted 4 minutes. 

i am not numb.

maybe numb enough to want to write and encompass it fully, 

but not numb like you. 

 and i still have faith, S. i still do.

Alot of faith, stacked up in the smallest of places like the spaces between my fingers and toes under the curve of my chin the insides of my elbows in my clenched fists palming your reds blues violets yellows salty sweet tango my bare soul exposed.

'when you're tangled up just tango on'

-Scent of a Woman

But we forgot how to dance a while ago.

now, we

tiptoe tiptoe tiptoe tiptoe tiptoe

(Let's tiptoe in the moonshine.

 If I'll be yours, will You be mine?)
?                         

-eeda.


pps. The Uncle/Asshole needs to stop living up to his latter name.
(or somebody will need to stop me from murdering him with my bare hands if he makes me feel like shit ina crowd just.ONE.more.time.

.............and this, my friends,

is where the fairytale begins to go Really Nasty........

( Issues with LDR's) part 1.

You frustrate me. You annoy me, aggravate me, make me want to pummel concrete walls, bash my head, claw someone's eyes out, puncture holes in skin with molten iron, rip paper and flesh into tiny minuscule pieces, walk run escape far far far away.


But I love you.
So I'll stay.


-eeda

Realization 102

I know in an earlier post I have confessing to exagerrating a little over the top,

but I know that for sure, tonight was probably once of the toughest nights of my life.

-edit................... or maybe not.

Realizations 101

The biggest dilemma, quite possibly, lies in the fact that I just Cannot

  seem to let go and have a good time.

 

(and that I envy everyone who does).

your tone remains consistent mellow purple

mauve lilac lavendar

the subtle shades insinuate

your anger, displeasure.
.

i await bated blue breath

for the calm the storm or even

being stuck in your epicentre.
.

callous caring can indeed

be worse than cruel indifference,

or overwhelming love.

im learning by degrees,
-eeda.

always on the periphery.

 photo credits.

I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of
York.

Welcome to the land of 2 hour transits to uni, 6 hour lectures, classes that end at 10 pm and getting home at 12 pm.
The land of the foreign, the unknown, not having your family or your friend or even any long-lost acquaintance around.

I feel like I've been planted on an alien planet. Yet Again.
But this being the 5th great move of my life, udve thunk id be used to it by now.
No.
Think Again.

On the bright side, York has the biggest university campus in Canada, testament by some rumor and by my aching feet.
AND theyre giving a FREE Keri Hilson concert.

Don't think im going to complain too much... Justttttttt yet.

-eeda :)

misplaced apology.

it becomes a sort of callous repetitiveness to put up with me, i know.

i wish myself that i could replace this vicious metallic blade I have in my mouth I have the misfortune to call my tongue, with something perhaps a tad bit softer and more sensitive.

while my honesty should not be a pretext for me to hurt the very people I love the most, with things that I find most despicable, neither should you take advantage of the wide-open vulnerability with which i speak to you, and stomp all over whatever little ego i have left, trampling it into shards.

please, do not lay the bed for further destruction, nothing can be rebuilt from splinters.


-eeda.

Converse

.


to feel your skin
against mine like papercuts
to the bone.
dew lips soften taut
strings of flesh,
blood clots ease, flow
beneath your earthy hands.
undress my flesh, my heart
to your ear,
i can hear
you kiss words to my core.


.

.

red gold dipped mornings drag themselves out of
pots of paint and sheer bluey skies
slash colour and hue across my open window i am
yellow gold blue on the outside red black broken
on the inside
i wonder if colours can explain feelings states of being
in ways words cant.

red is anger and black is grief
im spun of the twain, consumed
beyond relief


.

Cigaretteburnt.

there is something oddly alluring darling,
in the way grey smoke escapes your lips,
gently let sideways, cascading into summer swans
eagles, through the holes in my soul.
fine lines, tight lipped, half sly smile.

barely concealable how your indifference,
seductive so, melts me into quiet rage
sometimes.
some other times,
intense yearning.

inconsequential your white
tshirt unshaved shadows the tie rack
behind you the golden cube round
your neck.
inconsequential
my observations but for the fact
they are about You.

everything has Meaning.

pinky edged nightmares bloom
into roses, violets, sunshine darling, when i
wake them to thoughts of you.
my nightmares cascading away like smoke darling,
away like ashy eagles, radiant grey
swans.

there is much to say
and not enough in me to declare it
i wish i could just
rip my heart out
onto this page
let the red rivulets map their own course, spell out
the way this feels inside right now.
your absence
makes heart sore and snap in
wooden splinters, newspaper shreds, glass shards,
sheer motes of
knife sharp dustsandblood
splashed on this blank white canvas.
elements forming stories, confessions,
vulnerable exposes of
spirit skin and soul.

(spiral red stains)

after all,
visual
graphic devastation
needs no more
feeble
poems, words,

explanations.

i am shattered like crushed butterflies coloured red
smeared across blank white walls my wings
splutter and fall under your feet
cement and marble
tiles and tears
there is no compassion in your voice
in your feet.

I hate it when you fall asleep before me,

and you're awake after I am.

Early worms taste horrid alone.

i cannot sleep without u.
7 am (and still unwillingly awake)

my mind is on auto-overwork mode till it suicides out of exhaustion, but is having trouble finding death valley. mar hi nahee raha kisee tarah.
lame jokes are part of the deal. i apologize (lie)

-eeda

.




...............................backtracking




.

old write.
still holds true.

him- 'i want to..somehow..i care for you but..i.....
.........don't say it don't say it don't say it'

u clamp your lips shut, as if to pry them open, even slightly,
will reveal all.

i find it amusing that your reaching the epiphany about twice as fast i am.

the fact that you act as if it is about to slam into your face like an approaching train and you, sheltered behind crossed arms, refuse to take the blow.

the fact that you believe that to admit it, accept it, cherish it, wear it on your sleeve like your most prized medallion, is weakness.

the fact that you have never said it to anyone else ever before.

the fact that it's only.three.words.
three words.

your slightest look will easily unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers
-somewhere i have never, by e.e cummings.

it is SO hard to really get to you.
you never let your guard down and
yet you claim you're on our side.
you+me=ours, you said.
yet i don't know you. i don't know your side.



you claim you're on my side.
understandable,as i have done nothing but to lay myself bare to you,
to judge or to condemn, to hurt or to heal.


and when i lay bare crying, i can see the tears pool up in your eyes.
and when i rage as if blistering shrapnel, you still me, calm me down.
and when i am upset in you, and look away in quiet fury, you mouth those very same three words to me.


do you not think that i didn't see you?
do you not think that those words pierce every pore of my skin as soundlessly as if universe upon crystal universe erupted in a glass phial


soundless, but heard.

i hear you everytime.

But in this muddled chaos that you and i find ourselves in,

do you hear me?

what do u do when u move down from Number 1 to Not-a-priority-anymore?

heartbreak.

Night sounds.

Shut
the world out .
pillow cover.
cereal crunch.
snores. tinkle
train passing by.
I
had high
expectations of you.
You
are breaking
all of them.
.
Pierce. Shatter
glass heart.
rustle blanket dream echo
sleep.
.
randomness. there's too much in my mind to make coherent sense.
this was the best i cud do.
-eeda

i will take a brief reprise from this hiatus to note:

Pakistani men have NO butt.

seriously.very very disappointed.

1000 dawats.NO eye candy. bicharee me.

heading to Toronto in 3 days,

more soon

love,

-eeda

PS: Alooli number do!!!

eeda's landed in KAH-RAH-CHI chi chi...

for all bloggie people in khi (hint, Xeb, Tinuvieeeeellllll et cetera), can i get youh numbah?! :) 

in a very inappropriately scandalous way whyhankyouverymuch.

more later,

promise.

-eeda

Here- reporting live well and breathing from Trip-Oh-Li. 

I have learnt, that an excess of Everything is the same as Nothing

The mindfuckedness. The numbness. The incoherence.

That should explain why I dont write anymore. Or how I wish to write, but it's just too much to take into account.

(Chicken!)

I refuse to write. To write is to acknowledge. To acknowledge is to feel. To feel is to allow yourself, in all aware consciousness, to be an idiot.

I (einstein ki aulad) prefer being insensate, unfeeling, impervious. 

(SupahWoman Chickenness!)

There goes my optimistic speel of events for the day woohoo. 

Other observations, Libya is good. Food is awesome. I had never imagined having that many achar chicken/gulab jamun/ras malai/qorma/biryani/tikkay/ in less than a week. This supahwoman is gnna face some serious cholestrol problems later, but enjoy the lassi while it lasts. 

Sorry, desi adjustments for proverbs is a side-effect of fratenerizing with desi aunties.

Hardi har haey.

AND ohmegosh the dawats. The 'Eeda is our mehman-e-khasoosi', we're doing a dawat (read brown awkward foodfest) in her honour'. What a ridiculous patronzing position. And somehow, being guest-of-honor automatically (or desi way...atakmatakli)  requires me to eat like a sumowrestler. 

Whine aside, the kindness is a little overwhelming. The lavish gifts and parties and having to dress and doll up and 'haey kitniiiiii patli ho gayee hai! wahan kuch khati bhi hai ya nahee'.

yeah. im on the aunty radar. The page 3 shtraight from kanada speshul.

Haey me.

but more on that later, i have to go tend to (three guesses?) guests. 

we have a dawat at our place.

in.my.honor.

Crap ho-ingz.

-eeda

intense.

one word that describes my life, my family, my being.

it is almost always like this, this constant flux. my existense travels between one state of intense anxiety to the next. a fight-flight-arrival repeat mantra.

i float like a gold molecule on chainlinks. 

i miss those evasive delusions that bought me back to earth. stilled me.

you, drug, and you hin. you know who you are.

you know who i am.

i walk with white gold sand grains lodged between worn out toes. seaweed air and green blue sea shimmers silver in the fading moonlight.

this place is me.

i am stamped all over with the fingerprints of this restless billowing wind, the sharp salty smell between your teeth, the sea lying like a moonlit purple easel.

i paint cyanide dreams with pencil tips and charcoal. i paint pictures of us.

home.

the almost uncomfortable warmth of dj's face pressed close to my cheek. the golden sheen on her eyelied, the matted brown hair, the curve of her arm locked around my waist.

she breathes fairydreams into my ear.

i stand in awe, in painful regret when i look at them. aged and beautiful. mum and dad. i wish i couldve been here, seen them grow old together into this graceful, lovable couple that fights and forgives, dances and hugs within seconds of each other.

and jammy, my soul clone. wisdom beyond his young years.i cant remembr the last time i laughed as hard, as sincerely.

silver songs and golden moonbeams, floating in this white marble house.

home.

less emo crap later.. :) i miss bloggieworld. yeshido.

and drug and hinnybinny, if ur reading. missing you is like breathing :) 

-eeda

'The time has come
for us to part...'

many apologies for lack of updates and meangingful blogposts aside from the usual boo-hoo im leaving crap.
no, sorry. this is one such post too.

im off (to see the wizard, the wonderfu lwizard of Oz)
in... 3 hours.

more fun rants as the need arises...
and in case i dont get a chance to write back,
have a great summer everyone!

-eeda

p.s
much love to hinnybinny for dropping me at the airport at 7 am...
im gnna miss u.
biggger post ALL about u later..

much love to drug.
i WILL (boohooboohoo) miss you...
more for u later too

countdown.

.



All my bags are packed
I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin'
Its early morn
The taxis waitin'
Hes blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome
I could die

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when Ill be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go.

-Leavin' on a jet plane
John Denver.

Just under 36 hours.

God whys it so hard?

Im going HOME aren't I?
after 2 whole fuckin' years!

Why does leaving have to hurt?



because i will miss you. and you. and you.
and because i HATE goodbyes.

*emo hair-swish*
-eeda

''i don't miss the person.
i just miss my capability of feeling those feelings.''

-mimi.

..and that's our sad lonely truth. we're all a bunch of hedonistic narcissistic all singing all dancing crap of the world...

truth be told, if i were to let go of you at this very moment,
that statement above,
is Exactly
and the Only
reason why I'd miss you.


-eeda

when you ona roll..

.........with the faaabulous successes of

-The Holiday,

-Moulin Rouge (easily on my all-time-favourite movie list)

-How to lose a guy in 10 days, (aka How to have impossibly hot bloke fall in love with you in 10 days aka Disney Fairytale Pwincess Ending) for the cheesy romantic in me.

-Chicago *speechless*
6 words- Pop.Six. Squish. Uh Uh. Cicero. Lipschitz.
Pure
Art.

-The Illusionist (which happened to be a very good movie, too eerily reminiscent of The Prestige, plot NOT as complex as the latter because they kinda rushed through the twist in the story at the end, which was rather annoying),

-Monsters vs Aliens- 3D version babay. (which was pretty cool. but made me feel funny afterwards. like Objects in the mirror are closer than they.. WHAM! funny. kinda. good movie. some good humor. loved the bashing on the american-president *cough Bush *cough D^#$Head

-aaandd White Oleander ( which was incidentally awesome. awesome like being on a pre-pubescent trip down self-discovery lane, which is NOT me of course oh no no)

we now follow up with...hm.
Wanted? (i need me some hot Jolie. hows that for gag-worthy cheese?)

also lined up- Forest Gump and I am Sam for the classics, and ofcourse Dil walay dulhaniya for the zara sa jhoom loon mein fob in me.

*sigh

Education can only take you this far when it comes to elitist mannerisms and etiquette,
It can't entirely ever stamp out suppressed unacceptable desires (read fobbiness) aka secretly wanting to do a Kajo/be the drunk brown fob jumping on a bed in a strange man's t-shirt in the middle of nowhere.

DONT tell me YOU dont want to.

thandi thandi pawaannnnnn..jaltaaaa hai yeh... ACK!!

incidentally, Xeb,..totally off topic- DONT make me jealous! you saw CHICAGO on BROADWAY?!

*glare*.times.eternity.

heh..when i was in NYC two years ago i saw The Drowsy Chaperon, nowhere close to Chicago but i MUST say, (and dont quote me on this)
Broadway got me like..
hm.

If Broadway was a man,
an obese homeless man with acne pustules and ear-wax,
i'd still bang him.
un-drunk.

whoooooopsie-daisy didnt we just break the PG rule mymy.
i meant id MARRY him ofcourse. THEN i'd ba..

aight.enough.
time for another movie.

and o, btw.
SUGGESTIONS are not only welcome but begged for.

in case ur wondering what suddenly infested me with this movie-fanaticism, i'm just tryna have some chill alone time before i head to Lib-Yawh in a week where mommy dearest will very enthusiastically commence to ''domesticate'' me aka chakki pees-ing and roti-pakaing like a champ. (uphold khandaan ka naam/don't get on saasu ma's nerves)

well. no not really. dont gemme wrong i love my mommy dearest. i'm.just.boreeddd..

all for now. and i realli was serious about those suggestions.
:) have a great week folks,
-eeda

to my drug,
since im officially not allowed (by you) to create any hoopla over this,
but couldn't resist doing it anyway,
here we go,

Happy Birthday!

(And i wish you have many more happy birthdays till you're old and gnarly (remember that you're getting there before me!! :D ) and forget that it's your birthday and i need to point at the calender and then at you (and maybe even at your birth certificate assuming you know how to read/have any eyesight left by that point) till you remember the happy occasion.)

and then we can be the two gnarly wrinkled peas in the pod eating crummy old cake (from last year's remains...we cannot be having too much sugar) and holding bright red and yellow balloons.
and then you turn to me and say..' honey...

..............pass me the dentures.'

(except that it sounds like 'hummy, pash mee zhee denshures.' *wheeze* )


but that happy occasion you and i can still look forward to.


in the meantime, :D habby bird-day to you onsh again.
love,
-eeda

looking for someone in new york to fulfill role of good Samaritan
aka favor needed.

willing to pay cash/cheque
pleaseeeeeee contact asap.
email bornwild89@hotmail..


-eeda

what do you get when you put two of my most favorite things together?
music plus tango?= cell block tango from Chicago.

and o, what an AWESOME movie. haeyyy <3

more on that later.
-eeda

Goal of Life Number 14,536:
Find a cure for The Sniffles which does not involve an axe and your nose within the vicinity of 5 cm of each other.

Goal of Life number 14,537:
As a result of above mentioned Sniffles, learn to not be completely Delirious while having the flu.

Goal of Life number 14,538:
As a result of above-mentioned Deliriousness, learn to not make stupid spelling mistakes and typing out vicinity as vicinititty.



The last two were impromptu and had to be added in later, yes.

and no, the flu+deliriousness does NOT equal me thinking about vicintitties. Though that does make me think of Vince Vaughn with titties which is an interesting idea...Hmmmmm... ;)
okay.ICK.
REALLY must stop this deliriousness.

God i feel so bicharee for myself right now. Bitch-aree more like.

Ever realized that the number of times you sneeze in a minute is directly proportional to level of bitchiness while interacting with fellow human beings?

And obviously, if said sneeze/bitchiness combo is in the near vicinititty (spelling mistake intentional) of your PMS-ing self, multiply the bitchiness level times 10 and stock up on 2 extra jars of chocolate frosting to lick from directly out of the container.

Note to self:
Stay Away From Human Contact. for Their safety.
emotional safety that is.
(this is CRUCIAL.)

Sniffle.
from now on, Eeda shall be known as The Leaky Faucet.
DONT. laugh.


Being stuck in your room is not a pleasant experience especially when your homeostatic state equates to zooming around like a squirrel on steroids.
and Red Bull.
with wwwwwwingggggggggggsssssss...wwwwwwheeeeeeeee......

speaking of which.
as a result of Qua-ran-tine (omg WHAT! yes i SAID it..it could be this piggy phluu thingy)....i've been catching up on my list of must-watch movies....

Lined up for tonight folks, playing Forest Gump in the bedcorner nearest you.
followed by I am sam, Wanted, The Illusionist, Seven Pounds ( Will Smith=major drool factor)
which reminds me, i should watch Alfie again ( Jude Law=bigger drool factor)

WHICH reminds me the purpose of this blogpost (deliriousness sorry)
SUGGESTIONS for classic must-watch possibly-bordering-on-the-overly-emo/ chickky fliccky movies? Anyone? Anything!

im. boh.red.
helpus pleezus!
i beesechues thee?!

-eeda

i admit that my mind is fucked up beyond any measure of human cognition, but. seriously.


(despite the whole cliche and over-hype and the shibangadang-he-loves-you-the-remaining-364-days-just-as-much aside,)

am i the Only one who thinks
first year anniversaries and valentine's days are important?

(fuck, if we (read i) can rant and whine about every metaphorical broken fingernail we can also celebrate this minutest of occasions too, right?)

just a thought.
hum di dum dumm..

-eeda

p.s
the use of two f words in one post does not qualify this as a happy post, despite the pink font.
is my disappointment that obvious?

bring out the sarcasm.
*Stab*

'hope is the thing with..'
what? look, a birddiie...
*Stab Stab Squish!*

ka-POW-ness.
with frosting on top.
of
course.

-eeda

Gem of the day part deux.

Life is about Ass.
Everyone is either
covering it
laughing it off
kicking it
kissing it
tryna get a piece of it
or simply

being one.

thank god for an ass-less life.
er.
pun NOT intended.

-eeda

for mimi..

11:11

make a wish.




(p.s- i miss you.)

Gem of the day...

.

read an Interview with Meera-Lollywood ISHtar.


Interviewer: Meera, it seems like you have done well for yourself. Is it true that you are also getting offers from Bollywood now?

Meera: Yes, mashallah by the grace of Allah I have so many offers from Lollywood this year and a few from Bollywood too and God has been so kind towards me. At this stage of my career, I finally feel like the court is in my balls.


Bahhhhhhhahahaha
:D :D :D
There is such tragic hilarity in that statement, on so many levels.
It just made my day.

-eeda

ps. read the full article here.

the greatest thing you'll ever learn....

is to blah blah bleh.

there are SO many things wrong with that statement.

a-greatest=subjective term.
my greatest thing=lifetime supply of strawberry cheesecake.
or it could be to glue your eyelashes together.
r it could be to get laid (nudge Crack).
That last statement is a joke (not).

b-thing=indefinable object.
a cup is a thing. so is a puppet. so is poop. people's thingies are also things. er.
That last statement was not written by me.
Really.

c-you=audience is undefined.

d-learning is temporary. things can be unlearned by counter-conditioning.
Psychology my friend.


That
is what college does to you....


....for which reason I couldn't really appreciate the above-stated classic line from Moulin Rouge, which I happened to be watching last night.

BUT.
(and here's the whole point of this blah blog post)

it was an awesome movie.
i loved it.

the lit. bug in me is craving to go read up some articles on the film now.

oh, and didjuknow that blah is an actual word?

yippee dooodlieeos...
-eeda

ps. the full statement ( in all its emo glory) goes like this:
the greatest thing you'll ever learn,
is to love and be loved in return...

haey cheese.

Sundays are Slow.
they're also suffocating.

but i bet you already knew.

i am.
exasperated would be a good way to describe it.
want-to-pull-my-hair-out-and-run-naked-in-the-streets would be another.

insanity is not a disease.
it's an attitude.

im thinking naked running would be classified as insane.
or they might just mistake me for a PETA activist. theyre fond of bare wrinkled skin as much as i have a penchant for the same, albeit for different reasons.

alot of people i know are mad at me right now.
for things beyond my control

i did not write my own fate. i did not choose my family.
i know they frustrate u. they frustrate me too.

and you and you need to understand i belong to BOTH of you. im half you and half you. dont do this immature tug of war about me, and then get mad at me for it too.

Aghhhh.

i want to punch someones face out right now.
my own would be a good idea.

insanity is in unacceptable, self-destructive actions.

watch me.



-eeda

.


have you ever had
everyone you ever truly depended on
walk away
at the same time?




I have





.

i.be.scared.

i dont want to be flung into dependancy yet.
fuckin.
again.

i dont want to EVER rely on any man.

why is that so hard to understand?

i want to live
by.
myshelf.

hurumph!

-eedzy beedzy

po-yem taimeeeee..



If only I had the immortals' potion if only I had
A new soul to give you, if only you'd wake for a moment,

To see and to speak and delight in the whole of your dream
Standing right there by your side, next to you, bursting with life.

Roadways and public places, balconies, lanes in an uproar,
young maidens are picking flowers to sprinkle on your hair.

My fragrant forest full of tens of thousands of roots and leaves,
how can I the ill-fated believe I can ever lose you?

My son, all things have vanished and abandoned me back here
I have no eyes and cannot see, no mouth to let me speak.


-Yannis Ritsos.

*sigh
ima sucker for E.m.o

-eeda

the...

.....gifts

so.
after this blog automatically erased itself, i decided to hold a ceremonious chehlam in memorium.
that lasted a week.
so.
screw that.
i shall re-write. yes.

yes so my bday was no no big bash kinda thing.
but sweet and mellow and intimate, like how it should be.
2 candles on my cake, 10 years a piece.
having people sing for you and making wishes on plastic 2 inch chinks of wax is not as exciting as it used to be.
the gesture was appreciated though, i felt like a part of the family.

as much as that is possible with His presence. She made Him give me my gift. Personally. With His hand-writing.
Little retribution, but i shall pretend it was his request for forgiveness as much as it was their gift, I do not want to hate the man for his blinding ego, aside from the other reasons.

o, and shazi aunti got me a gift card.
and their daughter made me a card.
and gave me a little stuffed puppy with a pink dress! :) Cutieness!!


Drug sent me a lavender sleep-care package. and professional Arts supplies. because for those of you that dont know I like to draw. Alot. ALL the time.
and an emo card.and his tshirt. but we shall shush about that one. =)
needless to say it was. AWE-Shum!

Armie called. and DJ. and Sandy. and Mum and Dad. and the Gramps. at 4 minute intervals.
at 6 a.m.
It was good though.
Just the thought that you occupy the 0.0000000000001% of someone's memory who actually lodge your birthday in their mind and take the time out to call,internationally, which is a hassle on its own..
means A-lot.

I went out with my friends for lunch. To a Greek Place. To have Greek-Arab Food.Dressed Bohemian-ish. and later to have Italian Gelattos. Followed by a trip to the Canadian coastline.
multiculturism FTW.

and ..hm.

60 notifications on facebook from random people I barely knew even existed
in 6 hours.
bloggie friends wishes. :)
ubee made me this.
emoness!
it was awesomee!! thankooooo!! and yes he read it too haha ..like u asked.

and
hm.
cantthin kof more.i cant wait to finish writing this accursed bloggie to get it over with. gnna write a new one next.
YAY.


O happy day.
I think i needs sleep.
and my third cup of chai.

toodlieeos.
-eeda

i is turned 20.
2 to the o, yo.

yeeeaaaaaaa.

more narcissistic self-appreciative omgah-im-soh-kewwwwwwlllllllll bullcrap lahtah.

-eeda

PS. I <3 my friends.

laammy,
i know ur about to see this soon.
i just wanted to say

i Pyarooo you? samjhi!?

chin up! be strong!
kyunki MEIN HOON NA!

<3

ive missed u.
Realli! catch-up time soon? ;)

-eeda

Ze return.
of ze dramah Queen.
*play Frankenstein music on cue*

i'm on the brink of wanting to cry,
like drama-queens bawling hysterically in teen movies (think Clueless, Mean Girls)
when they break the proverbial manicured bright pink nail.

i wanna push Everything away.
i wanna push Everyone away.

and not cuz im having b.o issues or anything.

Expectations.
ACK-pectations.

I'm on such a self-prescribed guilt-trip and its weighing me down so intensely I can't seem to function.
Like.
('cuz i have to give an explanation for anything which is not to say I question the possible intelligence of my readership if it so exists, but that it's more reflexive of my own crumbling brain standards rotting away that need to name,define,explain,visualize,smell,sniff,touch,caress,cuddle and lick other words to fully understand their meaning.)

so. i cant function
like a coffee machine which makes third class coffee out of the best roasted Brazilian beans cant function. you know? sort of like you have the resources but you STILL find some goddamn ingenious way to fuck up.

yeah. That.

I was the make-everyone-happy girl. I can't stand this make myself-happy persona. I need to stab it into shreds.
Kill Eeda.
starring not Uma Thurman cuz she reminds me too much of a blonde ostrich,
but starring our very own brown fob me.

no, honestly though. I wanna push a certain someone away so I can make my khala and ammi and this and that and the entire fudgin paki community happy cuz thats what they Want, nahee?
The Desi Bholi Bhali Bimbo.
that's one too many B's.

Bitch starts with B too.

I miss being the B, albeit incognito.
Behind the masked internet screens I could lash out at the world with half-churned out sarcasm and a larger-than-life tragic life storyline that made people crumble to my feet.

NOT.happening anymore.

I'm sick of things. I want to forget everyone and just enjoy the rainy blue skies like a midnight grey velvet cloth held up with cotton buds and purple shimmery sequins.

Breathe eeda.

Everyone and their MOMS out there right now is trying to make me happy. Birthday parties are being planned out, get-togethers and gifts and long-winded we-will-miss-you's and extra-squishy hugs and surprise birthday-presents shipped over 2000 miles and midnight-random-mommy-phone-calls and somehow im STILL not happy and I want to push it all away because somehow someway Im letting them all. down down down down down.

i need a coffeeninininini.. a cappuchinononono.

there's one too many I's in this post.
Idiot starts with an I too.
so does Utter.Mindless.Bullshit.

okay. it doesn't. but I wish it did.


-eeda.

so.

I JUST had a boom-smack-WHA?© revelation.
yes that phrase is copy-righted.

...my blog's become too pretty in the emo ima-transgender-looking-for-silicion-double D-implants try-too-hard sense of the word.

sorry for that. really.

what happened to the good old non-PC, non-PG rated and non-coherency model of utter Eedadom where things... well, lets just say a Chesire cat on steroids with a foul-mouthed 4 day hangover and a whoopy cushion for a TopHat wouldnt come close to the randomisty i was liable to exhibit.
stupid thinga ya know.
like transparent stiletto heels?

efF politess.

i still refuse to swear fully unless im on a sugar/anxiety/bad mood times 1000 high.

so.
from now on ill. blehhhhhhh..
blabber.

efF blogger Norms.

i shall wear my undies on my head and grow out my hair and dye it red. like a hooded bandit with a red moustache peeping through the hood.

yo. whuchu zink about zat?

(cross Brooklyn Gangstah with Romanian Vampire aka Cullen's great grandaddy.)

YEEhaw for liberation of the so-called suppressed female-dom of creatiwitty
dum di dum dum.

me thinks alot of beobles will wonder whatever happened to ze good old me after this.
wait, what beoble?
eeda you conceited.... *bonks head.

i shall now pass out listening to the voice of the love of my life, my hot sexy nasally rimmed-glasses adorned and full-bottoned shirt 70 year old prof, Russel Day.

Day i love you every da... redudant.

cheerio my. er.
alot of youze have just unsubscribed so i cant cheerio to my stalker/follower list, now can i?

look? butterfly!!

*passes out*
-eeda

Nikalna khuld se aadam ka sun te aaye the lekin
bade be-aabroo ho kar, tere kooche se hum nikle

-Ghalib.

I can tell the Fuuuuuuuutureeee. And it ain't prehtty...

(i dont wanna break ur heart)

So.
Picture this:
you're mysteriously zapped into a love story. The main female character, (let's call her Juliet how excitingly original oh my), who has psycho psychic abilities and she tells you she already knows her tragic ending: the lovers are going to fall apart eventually.
What do u do?

1. Eat a cookie.
2. Tell Romeo to stop because the ending is not gonna work out.
3. Tell Juliet to tell Romeo to stop because the ending is not going to work out.
4. Tell Juliet to stop being a drama queen and have some faith.
5. Eat another cookie.
6. Seduce Romeo by dancing the nude macarena.
7. Eat a grape. Scratch an ear.
8. Book appointments with a Psychologist in how-to-deal-with-breakups.
9. Complain that there's no more cookies. Rant. Ramble. Clutch your cheeks and tear your hair out.
10. Slap me. (no, not eat me.)

I think i'm going to do 1, 5,7, and 10-times-three. In that order.

I really have no faith. Honestly.
The What-ifs are so consuming they shatter all the oh-my's and I-like's!

It's more like an unending mind vomit of oh-shit's.

You'reNot what I wanted and notwhat i wanted and notwhatiWanted...when reality peeks through.
when i think straight.
when i'm out of cookies and hence, there's no blinding emo.

Then I eat another Cookie.

Haey.

Must.Study.Psychology.
gr.
more crap later as i scoop it out of the shitty wasteland that is my daily life.
('cuz laxatives are the way to go babayyyyy)

ew.

<3
-eeda

ps. the above questionnaire was serious. answers required.

the pride/bane of women?

defense mechanisms.

You are in love with me, I shall make you perplexed.
Do not build much, for I intend to have you in ruins.
If you build two hundred houses in a manner that the bees do;
I shall make you as homeless as a fly.
If you are the mount Qaf in stability.
I shall make you whirl like a millstone.

-Jalal-ud-din Rumi

roll up the world and push it away.
breathe.

-eeda

Three Oddest Words

When I pronounce the word Future,
the first syllable already belongs to the past.

When I pronounce the word Silence,
I destroy it.

When I pronounce the word Nothing,
I make something no nonbeing can hold.


- Wislawa Szymborska

anomic.

.

Existential nihilism-the belief that life has no intrinsic meaning or value. . With respect to the universe, a single human or even the entire human species is insignificant and without purpose and can make no real change in the totality of existence.

i have lost myself.
i don't know who i am or what i am anymore.
i don't know what i believe in.
i don't know what opinions,values,morals,right or wrong means.
i know about God, i'm too ashamed to face Him and ask for help.
i don't know if I can do what He expects of me.
i don't know if He'll forgive me.
i don't know if He'll give me what I'm fighting for, when i feel like i increasingly don't deserve it.
i don't know whether what i'm fighting for is even worth it at the end.
i don't know if i can cope with an erratic family anymore.
i don't know if i have any patience left.
i don't know if i have any strength left.
i don't know what i want.
i don't know who i want.
i don't know if i want you as bad as you and your entire family want me.
i don't know who i want to be. not now. not in the next second. not tomorrow. not next month. not next year.not for the rest of my life.
i don't know what eternity means. i cannot be scared of what i don't know.
i don't know how to heal.
i don't want to howl.
i don't know my future.
i don't want to know about my past.
i don't have a present.

ignorance is not bliss.

i only know this
i am scared.out.of.my.fucking.mind.

i hate not knowing.

Catharsis I

I remember....

I remember, when I was 3, I toddled up to my Chachus bed at around 3 am and insisted that he take me to the park. He said no.
My other Chachu said no too. So did my dad. They had work in the morning, and it was time for me to sleep.

I went to you and nudged you awake.I asked.
Without a word, You drove me out and placed me in the swing. You pushed me back and forth till your kindness weighed heavy on my tiny brown eyelids, and I fell asleep.

Next morning you lectured your sons for Callous Insensitivity.



When the Gulf War happened, you called my father in Saudia, and told him.' I dont care whether you stay there or not or what happens to you! send me my grandaughter or I'll come and get her myself!'
My mum and I eventually flew out. Dad stayed behind during the war.



When I was 1, I had a splinter that needed to be removed. While I was crying in pain, I drowsily muttered your name.
1300 miles away, you heard me. You called mum and asked her if I was okay, you had a feeling I was in pain.



You sent me cartons of Go-Go masala overseas because I had a special fondness for it.

You cooled your chai in a little saucer and let me have all of it because I would bug you that I wanted some too.

You let me sleep next to you between you and dadi, even though I kicked you and punched you out in my sleep. You laughed about how difficult it was to extract yourself from beneath me in the mornings, but you never complained.



One night I had a nightmare while I was sleeping with ammi and abbu. I must have been 5 or 6. I woke up, grabbed my blanket and instinctively walked to your room. I took one look at your sleeping face, and lied down, and went to sleep.


I would give you your medicine every night before I went to sleep. I would sit at the foot of your bed and press your feet.


During very hot summer days you would sit with me on your lap outside the house. You would have a big cooler of ice-cold juice next to you, which you would give out to random passers-by as they walked past us. You would tell me that above all, kindness is what makes us human.



They carried you in on a metal/wood casket. They laid you down in the middle of the drawing room, as if making a public demonstration of you sleeping.


You were draped in white, like an angel. Like a halo your frail white hair. You were smiling, like the kind of smile you'd give me before you tapered off to sleep. The quite shy smile and the twinkling eyes.
But your eyes were closed. I couldn't see the twinkle.


It must've been something sad. Why was it sad? You were just sleeping weren't you?
Everyone was crying. Abbu was crying too. Abbu never cried.


Somebody told me that you were going away, but that couldn't be true. You would never do that to me. You, who would fly out to the other side of the world to be with me,
you, who named me and made me who I am,
you, who could not bear to see me disappointed,
you would not disappoint me.


They took you away, You didn't come back.
and I cried because everyone else had. I didn't know what forever meant.



After a few days, dadi gave me a handkerchief that belonged to you. Silken brown with green swirls. Subtle, yet full of life.
You.


I have carried You around with me since then. I keep You in a small white box with a red lid and gold engraving on the cover.
I take You out to hug You to myself when I'm happy. I take You out to wipe my tears when I cry.


You and I have grown old, traveled, learned and lost together.
for You and I are sown of the same crisscrossing green-brown threads.
You are the green shadow, i am the interwoven brown soul.


January 2009
Karachi.


All this I told you as I stood before you.
The concrete pavement beneath my feet, the marble canopy above your eyes.
The lush red rose petals, the fragrant joss-sticks, rose-water drenched soil,
the sights and scents I associate with you.

My tears ran amiss and sunk below me to touch you. I came here to see you again Dadu.
It's been a while, and i know i can't wake you up to take me to the park at 3 am anymore,
but I still really miss you.



....

Dadu. It's been nearly 14 years, and I'm turning 20 very soon. It's been a while, but there are somethings that become imprinted on your soul, more familiar to you than your own name.

As I'm sitting here staring at the red and gold box sitting on top of my dresser facing blankly at me, I confess that I haven't forgotten a single bit, and that dealing with your loss is something that still stings me sometimes.
This was my attempt to seek to remember the beautiful in you,
the beautiful in you which is now a part of me.


-eeda.

Growing Up and Growing Old is
Not the Same Thing.


December, 2008.
Karachi.




The sheer humanity of a train station.

The people are the journey.
The people are the stamps, the tickets, the scars.
Life stories of poverty and misery, arriving on Platform 11 at a quarter to two.
The certain pervasive hopelessness that blackens the broken gate signs, the ticket booth,
the red stamped seat 41, carriage 20.
The glittering dream has unraveled away from them,
like snipped nails.

Like snipped nails this train station: old and dirty,
forgotten and forsaken.
Weary eyed travelers, weary eyed visitors,
like the odorous, cramped waiting room of a hospital
collectively receiving news of death.

Like a collective hopeless sigh this train station.
Trains to go places except each place is like this place.
No 'anywhere but here', for everywhere IS here.

Faded green camouflage-print carriages,
carriers of people's souls
holes.
The monster rolls in, a lazy serpent.
Snaking its ways through the dirt and mud and murk,
hissing stress,
steam.
Rolls in and closes its weary tired eyes.
Despaired wrinkled faces sigh out in swishes of black chadors,
dusty blue shalwars.

Here is like Everywhere,
anywhere else like Here.
there is no destination.

It cannot be a journey, if it does not have an end.

Amidst tired eyes are orbs,
Gold young eyes cradled in weary arms.
Gold young eyes that find glitter
in the cobwebbed eaves, the mildewed ceilings,
the shattered television, the bent metal mug of chai.
Gold young eyes shimmering
like pearls.

Like pearls this train station: like an oyster this world.
Like an oyster, their tiny leather seat
on an overcrowded, overburdened train carriage.
Like a pearl, the 5 rupee coin clutched between small fingers,

like Hope,
their innocent faces.

..............................

so how can it be the end?

I wrote this on the train station waiting to pick up somebody, while I was in Paki over the winter.
To say I was overwhelmed by the palette of colors, the diversity in people, the vivacity in their faces..is an understatement.
I cannot come close to capturing that feeling, but if i could,
I would like to go back sometime and sit on the desolate, broken green bench, perhaps occupied on the other end by a homeless malang, drink chai straight from the nearby dhaba,
and write about the poor lost souls that wander around me.

Yeah.
Now that i've had my calling, ima head to bed.

cheerio,
(not the cereal, I prefer good ol' Nesquick like the spoilt lil kid that I am.)

-eeda