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