Let Us Be.

Love is a necessity. Its probably one of those 'I don't know why but I need it' kind of a thing in our lives. But how needy can one get that it completely over shadows the other silly-cute-small beautiful things that happen at every moment in one's life? Why are we blinded for that one desperate moment? Its unforgivable to allow ourselves to let one of the many kinds of desperation to take over us so much that we miss those priceless irreplaceable happy moments that we encounter everyday.

Life, death and the Immortal virus.

And Death shall be no more;

Death, thou shall die!

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And Death shall be no more,

Death thou shall die.

Repetition? No. Noticing the punctuations? Yes. Is that the only difference? No. You might pelt stones at me but I am forced to say that the difference is as huge as Shakespeare's and Hellen Garner's works. That is what I learnt today after watching Emma Thompson re-living her life whilst battling her insidious ovarian cancer of the 4th stage with pernicious side effects.
  
WIT (2001). Life and death begin as mere entities that may give birth to a complex body of work with a lot of scope for word play. They seem abstract. They seem to make Poetry. Slowly, they become personal; so personal that there lasts no more word plays or abstraction. Humanity takes over creativity. Feelings take over grey matter. Emotions take over a strong will. Emma Thompson aka Vivian Bearing is the kinds who makes fun of her own misery. Plain cold humour.

SHE is the MAN!

Everytime you reach that milestone you have set for yourself and are just about to bask in glory, you come across someone who has done it all and is calm about it. I mean, whats their problem? Why do they have to intimidate us so much? Yen? Kyun? Why? Ahem. *drinking jillu thanni*#tamizh

Well this post is all about that one woman in my life, who would give any man, a competition in the highest degree of masculinity. She is THE man. She is SHARADHA.

Why I LOVE myself

Its such an easy thought. But my answers can get a little edgy. Read on!

I am nice. 

I am eccentric.

I am modern in thought.

I am traditional in dressing up.

I am a free thinker.

I am an enthusiast.

Reality called LOVE

There was a lot of hush-hush talks he could hear. Distant echos and erratic ring tones filled the lobby. But above all, it was the thumping of his heart that was more audible. By now, the news had sunk into him. She will be soon dead.

I follow ALL / NO religion

I remember quoting my own quote on Facebook a few months ago, to be precise on 11 FEB 2011, 3.52 PM that read,

NEVER try to 'define' GOD.....LOVE....and definitely not ARCHITECTURE!

I still talk this abstract. Manufacturing defect you see.  But enough of it. I have had enough of this eccentric avatar of mine. After a lot of muddled up talks with my clear headed friends and family members, I realised the UGLY TRUTH that most of my beliefs and thoughts are not at all well thought of. There hasn't been enough introspection or contemplation for many of my inferences. It was such a hard hitting reality for me. The 'ego' within me that had been in hibernation mode for years was hesitantly awoken. I finally decided to break down this jargon abstractions to atomic simplicity.

Benevolent Ms.Confused soul

I have earned a fan. Yes. A fan. No I am not being proud. I am just admitting a fact here.
You know for sure that you have earned a fan when each picture of yours on Facebook is viewed, liked and commented with ecstasy. You know for sure that you have earned a fan when you are given utmost attention, the level which you wouldn't have imagined. You 'definitely' know for sure that you have earned a fan when he/she claims to be one every time you strike conversations with them. And hell yeah! You 'confirm' that you have earned a fan when you are awarded more than once for your not so famous blog.
My dear bro...ahem...'hotties' and sisters!
Presenting you, that one fan who isn't tired of me yet---Shreya Zachariah a.k.a  Confused Soul!

The PARADOX that you are to me.

You are my morning cup of tea
and that missing note in my melody.

You are the frame of my picture
and that tiny hole in the fixture.

You are the bloom on my scrubbed face
and that grey hair underneath the dark waves of grace.

You are the teeth that make my smile
and that very tooth that nibbles on my nail.

You are my dark fantasy
and that sharp bitter delicacy.

INTIMIDATION

25 NOVEMBER 2010

Looks like tiny pores on a blanket of mysterious blue,

Blinking helplessly as if stuck in place with glue.

Natures miracles they say...its true I say...

How can such a simple composition be a beauty?