Stop. Drop. Recover.

It’s all quiet now. It’s cold. The only thing steadily changing within myself is the passion I once had. It’s cooling off now. I look at the wounds tonight, to have a sense of the damage last many years caused.

The wound – once a fresh cut, is now festering; and once a festering cut, is now scarring. Its growing inward with a soft yet durable raised shell to protect the newer skin within. Just as I once held the venomous will to fight, wreak havoc and defend my actions, now is lost to self-pity.

The passion, there, no longer fresh, but festering— boiling in my blood and ripping me in half.

The yelling, screaming and fits of rage begin to scar. It’s healing now. That is a good sign, or is it?

Life is Funny (16)

At Brunch....
Emily: Eggs, are they, like, dead chickens?
Rob: No, they're just unfertilized.
Sarah: ...So it's like eating ovaries.
Raajii: (dropping her fork on the plate), Thank you for ruining my breakfast!
-Brunch, anyone?


I love that I get to go to so many overseas places with my friends, like Canada.
Sarah, why do blondes have to do this to themselves?


Raaji: My baby is getting sick. He waits for me all day in scorching heat and by the time I come to him, it seems like he has 103 C temperature and he shivers. Do you think I should buy something to cover him up?
-Taking love with her car a little too far :-)


Religion Professor: "When we read the letters in the Bible, we're basically reading someone's mail. Now, in the US this is a federal offense. But biblical scholars call it Scripture."


In class discussing moral issues, some one has just listed adultery, and with the intent to add it to the list the professor asked, "What do you call sex before marriage again?"
A random girl in class: AWESOME!



Raaji: So what do you think about the iPad?
Shan: Ipad... well its like the iPhone on steroids
:-)


Professor to the last couple of students who were finishing their final:
"If you don't know it by now, you will never ever know it."


Political Science Professor: Are there any graduating seniors in here? Well you can choose to not take the final and take whatever your grade is now as your final grade *the only senior in class gets up and leave* As for the rest of you scrubs, good luck.

Aftermath.

The wind had stopped. Now there was silence, and as the ash settled I saw what had happened.
Every trace - every little trace of the place was gone, exploded into nothingness. And for a moment in that dazed silence, with no sound apart from the ringing in my ears, and this ambiance in the air, I felt new again.

That place was gone, but I wasn’t. I wept.

And at that moment I looked towards the sky. I don’t know what made me do it, but I almost knew something was being given to me. A piece of paper it seemed, floating, whimsically floating down towards the earth, dancing, and then settling so softly down on the ash covered ground. I picked it up and blew.

A photograph. A beautiful autumn day. A teenage boy and girl - a couple for sure - standing on a pavement lined with birches clothed in auburn leaves. I remember those birches as if from another lifetime. The teenager was my best friend - my significant other. The other child, the younger face was my own. I turned the picture over, and on the yellowed paper was written October 2005. I turned it over again and as I did so the memory flooded back to me like water filling a pond, and I was overwhelmed.
That day we were at his mother's house, she was in the house to the side of the picture, she’d made brownies. Who took the picture? I don’t remember.

I was happy that day. I was the happiest I had ever been. During that time of my life, like no other, I was absolutely content. And I believe I took a picture in my heart. But, over the years I was robbed of that beauty and innocence. It was stolen and replaced with anguish and gloom.

But now the Coalfields are gone. And with the ash that floated down from the heavens I was returned what was mine.

The wind blew again and for an odd reason, I let the decaying piece of paper go with it and released myself from this place - from these memories.These memories that mean everything in the grand scheme. These are the blueprints of my happiness.

That photograph showed me something: By letting it go it all gets done. That unfulfilled desires are good in the big plan - they let us remember but help us forget.

Let It Snow?!

It looks like winter set in a little early in this part of the world. And believe me, it is not a good thing. But for the most part we tolerate it or its better to say that we ignore it. First it gets chilly, we make a shift from full sleeve shirts to sweaters, then we swift towards a jacket but we are all quiet at this point—pretending that there is nothing out of the ordinary and All is bearable. But then it snows. And that’s it. We can fool ourselves before the snowfall that the weather will be better tomorrow but snow crushes all hope, because that’s when you know it is here to stay.

It is then when we are inflicted with all sorts of crap for the next six months. Falling on the ice and breaking your bones to getting your car stuck in snow in places where there isn’t a human in sight to seasonal flue and cough, and not to mention constant shivering and turning the heat up and down.

One of my friends is trying out a new approach this year. Since the economy is bad and she just graduated and is unemployed she told me that heating is way too expensive. She has decided to stay warm this winter the way our ancestors back in old country did: vodka.

These days the sidewalks are a consistent sheet of ice—it's pretty treacherous. To be honest, it's a crapshoot every morning walking to class whether I make it back to my room alive. As I walk, I watch other people walk by; they all have the same thing in common. Quick, short steps with their head down, trying to avoid the cold. I'm going to be honest, I'm no better than them. I walk with my head down too, but only because my eyes tear up when the wind hits me in the face and the last thing a 21-year-old wants to do is waltz into class looking like she just got out of a fight—and lost.

But that's just what winter does to you. It makes you put your head down and walk quickly to your destination... and you try your best to survive it. Why is everything so much harder in the winter? Everything takes longer. Summer flies by—gone in an instant. Not winter though. Winter takes its time. Wonderful.

Hey, maybe it's our fault, you know? Because admit it, deep down inside, you can't wait for the first snow of the season. There's just something about it - the beauty, the calmness. You get excited... we all get excited, no reason to beat around the bush about it. I mean, have you ever stopped and actually looked at a snowflake? Bet you haven't. And you're missing out. It’s the simplest things in life that give you the greatest pleasure.

But I notice that at the end of the day everybody's is pretty much the same. We all wait in anticipation for that first snowfall... and then we curse it once it comes. Because—let's be honest—winter sucks. And everything that comes along with it, too.

And this year, it snowed in October… now that’s just mean.

Undone

Whenever the house of cards collapses it is time to write—to fill the air with words where rooms have collapsed along with my neatly laid desires that laid in their beds.

The cards quickly flew through the air, whistling by like lost feathers from a bird's hind. My home burned in the fire and left behind cinders for me to clench in the tensed fist.

I walk through the ashes trying to find something – anything that was mine once. But all there is here is air. No life. Just air. Vacuum.

This air that contained my love in my home once. There is just air now and nothing else to hold my love.

Hope

That clumsy sky is dropping its tears on my rooftop tonight. I hear it. I feel it.
Heartache is tapping overhead while the strife of the world is swirling into the gutter.

This bitterness will evaporate by tomorrow, or so I hope.

The Real Man?!

Man is a creation of desire, not a creation of need. Far too many women look up to men to come save them, to fill that gap in their lives, to make them feel safe. What is it? Is it the softness of our skin or the kindness of our emotions that make us so vulnerable?

It always amazes me how many women like dangerous men. Men who almost from the moment you meet them, you know are bad news. Me, I prefer my men kinder. Gentler. Nice. Niceness is highly underrated by most people.

We live in a weird culture in which men are taught to apologize for their weaknesses and women for their strengths. I have seen so many men blaming the woman who he is unhappy with in the same way he blames the door he walks into in the dark.

When a man gets up to speak, people listen, and then look. But when a woman gets up, people look and then, if they like what they see, they listen. I was at a friend’s wedding recently and I couldn’t help but wonder that when a woman gets married, she vows to love, honor, and obey her husband, though he gets off doing just the first two to uphold his end of the bargain. Why?

I, with deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve—A man who has the courage to treat me like a woman.