She shall have music wherever she goes

Love it! :)

K

He was really ugly.But still she loved him. See the thing is he wasn't just ugly, he was icky too. You know like the loafer sort that you find hanging around on Brigade Road? That sort of icky. You would have thought that she could have done much better than him. He? I suppose he should have thanked his lucky stars. But in the end he was the one who walked away from her leaving her heartbroken. Well somewhat hearbroken at least. It was, I believe, a long time ago.

I DO miss people. The most when they're right there on the other end of the line talking to me.

Brandi Baby

Joe

I'm telling you

Everyone's extra nice to the Fedex guy just because he's cute. :P And by everone I mean Mary. hehe he

The Lonely Planet description of India :)

Nothing in the country is ever quite predictable; the only thing to expect is the unexpected, which comes in many forms and will always want to sit next to you. India is a litmus test for many travellers - some are only too happy to leave, while others stay for a lifetime.

This made me smile today

The Saudi dude [manager] sold his Maserati because 'It's a piece of shit,' [with a very straight face] he said.

All I want for Christmas

Ok I know what I want for Christmas so I hope you haven't bought me my present already. I want a newale [That's a waist chain and I'm pretty sure you uninformed thing didn't know that] It'll probably have to be specially made so you'd better hurry up and do it if you want it to reach me in time for Christmas :)))because I don't think they do my size.I think 28" should do fine.And I don't want a very thin one. Get a nice design if you can. Yeah that should be ok.
Yay I think the materialistic me is back! And everyone should be happy to know that I'm working on this instant gratification thing [God knows why]. I'm doing a delayed gratification instead. I believe it has it's rewards.

K

Monsters

There was this one, she was sticking her face up against the car window. All squished against the glass. I made a face right back at her and smiled I couldn't help it. She smiled first. She waved goodbye as the car drove off.She hasn't yet learned to be suspicious of random strangers that make faces at her. I hope she never has to.

:))

"Give me convenience or give me death."

-Dead Kennedys.





Courtesy: Sarc Marianne

I never meant to lie

I called her and as soon as she picked up the phone I realised I had nothing to say to her.
'I'll call you back later I said. I'll be able to talk to you longer then.'
I never did.

CrushCalculator.com

Butterflies in your stomach when you catch sight of that special someone? Is it lust or is it true love? Will it work out or will it be just another futile attempt? Before you pop the all important "I love you", use our Crush Calculator to find out if he or she is The One!

Calculate your compatibility:

Your full name (both first and last name):


Full name of your crush: (you can enter up to 3 names)
1.
2.
3.

Now, see if he or she is The One!




--
Dear Kat,
I couldn't think of even one.


Kiran


http://www.crushcalculator.com/content/love/366216214

"Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can"

- Pink Floyd, Echoes



Courtesy:pispeak

A lesson in lateral thinking

There are four of us in the house. Two girls to a room. One of the girls an Iranian gets terribly upset one day. She said that she put the heater[which is in the kitchen] on and went to have a bath but in between the water became cold and when she went to check she found that the heater had been switched off and the kitchen light on. She also said that she heard foot steps. Everyone was questioned and everyone said no, it wasn't them. A plausible explanaiton anyone?
And there is one :) And it isn't that she imagined the whole thing.

K

I must tell you

I am now in possession of my corniest shirt ever. It's a T-shirt that has the word DUCK written on it and the picture of a couple of ducks on it ducking this ball that's flying in their general direction.Get it? Duck, duck. :)))
I love it!

Joanne in an unusually conversational mood was telling me about the three of us today. She said that we were like three intersecting circles. Each our own and each of each other. Well that's how I would say it. She'd be more technical.All intersect at some point but the rest do their own thing. That's how she'd say it.
Like the trinity symbol I thought.
It works, I said.
It does, she agreed.


Conversation:
Joanne: How did the three of us come for the same parents
Kiran: Why?
Joanne: 'Cause we think so differently about so much stuff
Kiran: True
although I think Laura and I are somewhat the same
somewhat
Joanne: Nope
Kiran: No?
Joanne: We all have oints of convergence
points
Kiran: Of course we do
Joanne: Think of it like three circles
Kiran: Yeah :)
Trinity
Joanne: All intersect at some point but the res does its own thing
Kiran: That works
Joanne: Cool
ok gonna watch gilmore girls bye
have fun
Kiran: Bye


I want to hang out with my sisters. They're the only ones that laugh at anything I have to say. That and they sometimes pay for my coffee.

Things to try avoid doing

1) Break the A/C thermostat

That's it.

Garbled Blah?

I didn't forget his birthday. I was too preoccupied finding a place to park my ass not to mention luggage.

I didn't forget his either. I was too busy getting my ass on a plane out of there to remember.

Everyone else's? I forgot.

And on a terribly isolated note. I hate everything and everyone.

Okay I don't really. But I do miss extreme and emotions.

And just for the record, just because I say I didn't remember, it doesn't mean I forgot.

OfcourCe

I asked him if we would still be friends.
What I actually meant was, would I still be friends with him.. and I was asking myself.

Or maybe[for her].. the artificial is real.
Like plastic flowers.
They're real too.

I wish I had someone to smile about. I really do.

He says in a bit. Just like me, just like Sema, just like the stinky Brits. It makes me smile. 'I'll call you in a bit', he said. :)

I think I should start bringing a blanket to work.

My body's finally gone onto auto pilot. That and I suddenly feel like I've grown older in the last two weeks. I suppose, a good thing a month and a week and a few days shy of my twenty fourth birthday. It was bound to happen sometime. Went out dancing last night. Good fun. I came in a tiny bit late to work today [I'm never late]. 'Je suis desolee', I said. 'Je suis en retard'. 'Oh don't worry about it', said my manager. Isn't he lovely ? :)
And also I think I might be able to leave earlier today. Lovlier!
Oh and I hate the malls here.They're too big and painful.

K

Irony: The worst sort

How can you be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?

[Extracted from some random stranger's blog]

Within you I lose myself...
Without you I find myself
Wanting to be lost again.
~Author Unknown


Courtesy: Sangy's Blog

:)

Ranting and raving and carrying on.

So many women are so eager to blame other women. But their men are angels dropped straight from heaven.
They forget that Lucifer was also an angel dropped straight from heaven.

You know, at the end of it all, people are just people.

I wonder if I'm as obnoxious as Obnoxious is. I think I can be. Shit.

Learning. Still.

Some days; the world is beautiful.

So here's the story. I leave one cracked woman inhabited house and move to another where the women are great but the neighbour lady believe it or not thinks 'snoopy' is the coolest thing ever!
The problem is this. People in this country are not allowed to sub-let appartments without the knowledge of the landlord. Of course in this instance, where I am, everything is very much over the table and all those concerned parties that need to be, have been informed accordingly. Of course Snoopy next door doesn't know this and true to her namesake she decideds to make it her business to find out what exactly is up?!
It's like everytime I want to enter the house, she's there. As if she's waiting by the door, waiting for a chance to jump me.
So the other day I'm getting my clothes stand into the appartment, trying to be as quite as possible [of course that never happens]. I get myself into the appartment, not two minutes and the bell rings. There she is snooping around the door. And there I am watching her through the peep hole and of course laughing my evil laugh. To start with I simply refused to open the door for her. And there she was, you know how it is in the movies when people try to look through the peep hole from outside and their faces become really big? Entertainment! I say. So she rings the bell a couple times more and then goes off with a 'there's something up and I'm going to get to the bottom of it' determined look on her face.
And so I came to the conclusion that the world is full of cracked women. It just is.

I'm begining to realise that a lot of people have failed to gain a finer insight into the concept of instant gratification.

Women !

[shakes head in resignation, adds this huge exaggerated sigh for effect]

I lived in my own little world and I was happy there. How cruel to drag me out and force me into yours. The next time I'm going to build REINFORCED glass walls around my world, just wait.

Funny

I want to hear your views, but I don't want to tell you mine. At least not today.

I crossed a black cat's path yesterday.

I've been around enough bitchfaces to know better than to be one.

K

She said eat or be eaten.

I said live and let live.

Picnic in the Park

I think the best thing about it was the drive back.

Dance Away

Now I know I must walk the line
Until I find an open door
There was I - many times a fool
I hope and pray, but not too much
Out of reach is out of touch
All the way is far enough


Courtesy:http://mslitigious.blogspot.com/

They try; too hard.

A person minus her personality, that's all it was. So the only thing left to be attracted to was her body and the way she moved it, I suppose. This made me sad. A little bit.

K

I'd like to have said, thank God for radio, thank God for you. But I think I'll just stick to, thank God for radio.

Listen, listen and you will hear

www.purevolume.com/777

I like sunny days and how they make people feel better about life.

-Marianne

Some people give me a headache. You know the type that insists on doing those courses that they think will further them in life. The ones that don't mean anything at all. Those people. Yeah, those.

We both parted ways, the taxi driver and I telling each other that we were the most excellent of people.Thank you and goodbye.

The best thing to do would be to make her like me, but really I couldn't give a donkey's fart if she did or didn't.

It is only with one's heart that one can see clearly.

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)

He looks at her, she knows. She can see his reflection in the glass across the room. He doesn't know, she knows.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
- Moulin Rouge

Everybody loves a good twist of irony.


PS: Pi see you tomorrow.

He knows- his hand is as close to her's as it can possibly be.

She knows- it will never cross that invisible line that's been drawn between them.

..and silently I add, 'I hope.'

Who's the Disco Chick now?

I'd like to have said 'nice', but the only sound that seemed to want to come out of my throat was 'ugh'. So I settled for 'ok' in response instead.

losing, losing, lost.

His misguided sense of better than thou ness made him bait me and I felt only slightly sorry for him as I took the bait and hit him just as low as he had tried to hit me. It hurt. I could see it on his face. And as we walked out of the restaurant I smiled at him and said, 'Let's do this again sometime.'

She said that they wanted somone good. I think what she Really meant was, pretty.

He wanted too much. He wanted it all. And he could have had it all. If only he hadn't wanted it so.He never knew and I think he'll never know.

.. and all these little bits of unexpectedness; they make me happy. They really do.

Caught myself smiling quite a few times yesterday after work.

www.ryanlobo.net

Something as silly as..

It was nice to have heard his voice.

He was lying down on the floor I think, sleeping next to me. He half got up turned toward me pressed two fingers[his middle and index] vertically across my lips, and said, 'Did you do this to me and cross me? [ie. make the sign of the cross over him] Did you do this to me and cross me?'
It was M, and I was very afraid, surprised at myself, because it was M.

I woke up to see if it was true and I didn't immediately know where I was. But I looked to my left to see if he was there. Of course he wasn't. I had dreamed. But I was so scared. Scared to get up to switch on the a/c.Scared to move. I went back to sleep in the heat. Making minimal movements to ensure that my head and feet were covered.

All the girls, they grew into women.
And the boys, well they just grew into bigger little boys.

Fucking Amazing

I thought this was a joke when I read this in the paper the other day! No it isn't!! I found a picture as well. Here's the news first

The mayor of a small Austrian town has called on British tourists to stop stealing its road signs. Siegfried Hauppl, mayor of Fucking, says visitors come from nearby Salzburg to pose for pictures and, sometimes, to take signs home as souvenirs. “We had a vote last year on whether to rename the town, but decided to keep it as it is,” says Siegfried. “After all, Fucking has existed for 800 years. We don’t give it a second thought.” But some villagers are reluctant to say where they are from, an embarrassment shared by two other Austrian villages: Windpassing and Wank on the Lake.



The most frequently stolen traffic sign in Austria, at the entrance to the village of Fucking. The lower sign ("Please, not so fast!") is addressed to speeding drivers.


Courtesy:gtx2.net

Definition

Half boyfriend

A guy who is being used for sex and money. Not to be confused with 'friends with benefits'. In this case, the girl expects to be taken out to dinner, bars etc, but takes time off to hook up with other guys.

Girl: "you're like.. my half boyfriend"
Guy: "F that.."

courtesy: urbandictionary.com

When you wake, what do you normally think of first?

Lot's of people think of lots of things. But,

[At least you don't think: Is this pillow actually a pile of vomit?
or: JESUS!!! who is this really ugly naked person lying on me?
or: Why ere are my clothes and why is that bus pulling up beside me?]

-Marianne's mind :)

I don't usually take to children. In fact the only child I ever took to was Crystal Mariah. But there's this one little girl that's stolen my heart. She doesn't speak, I don't think I've ever heard her voice and so I don't know her name, but I know that she's seven. She showed me by holding up seven fingers, and I know that she likes jumping down steps, and that when she smiles, it's the most beautiful thing in the world.

The Boys Grow Up

A mouthful

I held her hand to help her down the steps and she heaped a mouthful of blessings on my head. I couldn't have got a nicer thank you.

The Boys

M, Fox, J-man, Luke

I realize that other people live just as much in their own little worlds as I do mine.

Satish and Me.

Puffy eyes and Genuine smiles [been a while]

Marlene and Me.

People scare me sometimes. They REALLY do. *wide eyed look while brain contemplates shutting down*

Multi layered.[pause] Why not? :)

A song for me :)

M and his new baby Grace/ Greeny Beanie/ Thug Thumper??/ or whatever it is you want to call her.

On those I know

The Chick:
A guilty conscience pricks the mind
Yet somewhere somehow you will find
That although somtimes you feel trapped
The human spirit does adapt
----

The Girl With The Accent:
You're pretty, you turn up the heat
You charm the pants off most you meet
You'll always be, yet in the end
My boyfriend stealing bitchface friend
----

The Song Writer:
You live your life the way you choose
Try so hard to make it work
Build your castles in the air
You'll make it someday meet you there
----

The Window Cleaner:
Convicted, yes, you've come so far
I back away from who you are
Yet when I'm sure no one will care
I know, I know you'll be right there
----

The Stranger:
Something less and something more
It's something that I just don't know
Still unperturbed, I'm glad that I
Chose to have ice cream and pie
----

The Other Sister:
Here's the frowny sister yeah
Antisocial as it were
But underneath that gruff extat
You're just a big ole pussycat
----

The Sister, The Best Friend:
I know there is an unsaid rule
That sisters can't be best friends too
I just ignore this minor point
Small things don't get us out of joint
----

On other things

On Boys:
They say they're happy; satisfied
With Pam or Jen or Susie
But want to hear me tell the truth?
They all want Big Boob Rosie
----

On Cheating:
They taught us all through Sunday school
This is not what you ought
But life it taught us differently
It said just don't get caught
----

For the women of yore- On Emancipation:
She stole them when he wasn't there
Quite done listening to his rants
She wears them now, what will he do
Without his smarty pants
----

On Overconfidence:
They went ahead all geared to win
They landed on their tusses
Because they lost the game you see
They're all big sour pusses
----

On Money:
They say money isn't everything
They couldn't get much cheesier
I'll take the green stuff anyday
Makes life a whole lot easier
----

On Sensitiveness:
His eyes they water up in hurt
Over a stupid gal
Oh stop, or else I think I'll gag
I'm sorry but I shall
----

On Marriage:
An octapus is on the bag
It's eyes so mournful staring
I wonder why that dormant look
Perhaps he thinks of marrying
----

On Bad People:
When someone something nasty does
To bring me close to tears
Fate does something nasty back
Like maybe jams their gears
----

Strange, Stranger

Poems for strangers

Constant thought please go away
I'd rather you wern't here
Come again another day
Perhaps sometime next year
----

As I was walking through the land
I found a boy to reprimand
I threw the boy over my thigh
And spanked him till I heard him cry
----

She said she wasn't nice at all
I took her at her word
I stopped going by to see her work
I think she is a turd
----

I met him on the plane he said
Over coffee let us two gather
I gave him my most disarming smile
And said, I think not rather
----

Sounds hoity toity on the phone
Her name, we call her Mary
But such a darling girl you see
She's Mary quite contrary
----

He stands a bit uncomfortably
I think you got the gist
She laughs at boys who inadverdantly
Get their knickers in a twist
----

..So I tell the little monster, see if you can say this like one word.

Hoof hearted ice melted

'Very good.' I say, 'Now try this.'

Heifer hearted hoos melted

'He stood lonely in the searching sunshine; and he looked beyond the great light of a cloudless day into the darkness of a world of illusions'
-The Lagoon, Joseph Conrad

I saw a picture just now. A funeral picture. The adults arrange their features enough to look suitably sad. The children however, who clearly haven't been taught better smile full fledged smiles for the camera. It isn't everyday that Grandma dies you know.

My sisters are hot air balloons

'We are not hot air balloons. We are contented people of some weight
and consequence.'

Said Joe in their collective defence. :)

Fifteen men on The Dead Man’s Chest-
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest-
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!


No prizes for guessing what book I just finished reading. :)

Oh what the heck, it’s twelve where you are.

For my other big sister.
Love always.

[Don’t ever stop missing me.And don't forget to hear the unsaid in the said. And I mean every sappy word of it. :) *distance hug*]

In Retrospect

She grew up my mother, speaking Konkani, Kannada, Tulu, and god knows what other languages. But she never spoke a word of these to her children. I find that odd. And I believe it was entirely intentional. But didn’t she realise that if we didn’t get caught one way, we were bound to get caught the other?
We grew up speaking English, English, and English. Even the maids spoke in English to us, our Mangalore cousins spoke in English to us, our grandparents didn’t speak to us at all and people gave us queer looks and said, ‘Don’t you speak anything but ? ’ And then gave us pitying looks with not a little condescension.
But in retrospect I think this is what she wanted to give us. She wanted to make life easier for us, not difficult like her’s was. She was thrown into an English medium college straight from a school that was ‘supposed’ to be English medium and was expected to do well.
We speak now ‘perfect’ English and our accents are relatively clear. We don’t make obvious errors in grammar maybe in spelling. We do try to remember that it’s lose and not loose. :)
But we lost didn’t we. We lost the chance to make fun of the mallus with them being right there and not understanding a word. And we probably lost other things like maybe, culture and maybe just being able to talk to you family.

If somebody was to ask me if I was Mangalorean, I’d probably say yes. But when I think about it, it isn’t really true is it? I don’t speak the language, I don’t know anything about the culture and I can’t cook the food.
The only things I know are that they have ranging from mildly to very insulting sayings for every occasion and that sea water and well water mustn’t mix. Another one of their loaded sayings.

[Thought dismissed]

Don't go to the monsters. Let the monsters come to you.

[And i'm not just talking about children.]

Swing Low Sweet Chariot

I was tiny. And I found a song book. With words and music. Oh yeah!.. pitter patter pitter pat.

Sing!

And he sang.

‘Swing lowwww, sweet chariotttt. Coming for to carry me hommmmme.
Swi ing lowww, sweet chaariottt. Coming for to carry me hommme.’


:)

Judgment without condemnation. Excellently put.
Justification? No. Just thinking aloud.
In between, should she try an extreme?
Singularity. A good thing I thought.

Good Luck

I was born in the desert. And maybe that’s why I was apportioned a part of the temperament of the desert. Harsh and unforgiving I seemed. Except here and there you would chance upon something which hinted at the idea that if you persevered long and hard enough, it would be worth your while. Again I make no promises.

I wasn’t always this way. Alright that’s a lie. I was and I tried to conform for a while but it was a wasted effort. So I stopped lying to myself and found a cd of Chris Rea and listened to Daytona instead.

The reason I stopped trying was as clear as the sky outside. That is to say not very clear. It was raining like mad outside and the sky was overcast. Exactly what I wanted my mood to reflect. But even that seemed to be doing the let’s be uncooperative routine and it did noting to improve my already chipper disposition. Sunshine and cheer. Bah! Was my personality changing somehow? Did I seem happier? I didn’t want to change. I liked myself fine exactly the way I was. This thought like most others didn’t hold my attention for very long and so I decided to think instead of a new and hopefully interesting personality that had happened to waltz into my life.

The charming if not handsome Watsisfaceagain. Watsi for short. Watsi was like a breath of fresh air after all the others. Because I was clean out of ways for lowering their too high expectations. It was getting to be less amusing and more tedious by the minute. Watsi however was different. He had no expectations. So I wondered, if he had no expectations, what the hell did he want? There was no winning with me. I honestly couldn’t figure what it was that he wanted. Did he want a new buddy? A pal? Unlikely. Although those were high on the list of wanted commodities these days. Well I wasn’t in the market for a pal on order. Hell no. I wasn’t in the market for anything. Should I go off and live on deserted island then? I asked myself. Nah, too extreme. Too much of a bother. So I decided that since I certainly didn’t know what I wanted, Watsi could do whatever the hell he wanted to and it would be fine by me.

There were some other things on my mind, like for example the fact that I was going to have to start caring about a certain someone. Not because I really cared. No sir. But because my innate good nature insisted that I did. It was like having a loosing argument with your self. Which only confused matters further, because if you had an argument with yourself and you lost, it meant that the other party [who just also happened to be you] won. How disagreeable this was all getting to be.

I remember someone as I try to recollect all the unsolved things that have thus far been swept under the beanbag which has been shoved under my bed.
I’m rather convinced that this one was dropped on his head as a baby. That’s the only way to explain the mad glint I sometimes caught in his eye. The glint to match that maniacal smile that accompanied it, which disappeared as soon as he noticed that I was looking. Well this one was none of my concern anymore so I chose not to waste any more energy units on him

Now here’s someone worth wasting energy units on. I watched you grow more and more disillusioned. Always convinced. And I wonder if I ever envied you your conviction.
There was that and also the fact that you seemed less and less inclined to see my point of view these days. This saddened me. Ok it didn’t really. But for both our sakes we’ll just pretend that it did.

The last solution deprived situation involved a princess, yes a princess. One who had climbed up on to a pedestal and was now sitting on it swinging her legs and looking bored. The only thing I can think to do in a situation like this is to push her off the pedestal when she’s not looking. Mad glint was probably waiting down ready to catch her. That would certainly have solved everyone’s problems

A conclusion, the story was screaming for an end. So I ended it. Twisted.

Virtue is more to be feared than vice,
because its excesses are not subject to
the regulation of conscience.
—Adam Smith

With Both Hands

Crab meat.

The only way to eat it.

*smacks lips*

The Great Man... is clolder, harder, less hesitating, and without fear of "opinion";he lacks the virtues that accompany respect and "respectability", and altogether everything that is the "virtue of the herd". if he cannot lead, he goes alone... He knows he is incommunicable:he finds it tasteless to be familiar... When not speaking to himself, he wears a mask. There is a solitude within him that is inaccessable to praise or blame.

Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power

Neither of us approved, but we both quietly kept our disapproval to ourselves because he had the one stamp of approval that mattered. Her’s.

and also

i must learn to look at the phrase 'salt to taste' in more realistic terms.

Something else you never thought you'd hear me say

Cooking. Not so bad.
Eating my own cooking. Not so bad. Really. [We’re not so sure about eating the unsupervised cooking though, but it’s a start.]
I have also gained new appreciation for the term, ‘slaving over a stove’

For my darling elder sister, a glass of long life milk is raised in your honour. A couple of butter dosas eaten in your honour too, eaten the only way to eat them. Straight off the plate :)

Love always.

Internet radio. Yipiee!

Something tells me to enjoy it while it lasts.

And in other news, you all should be glad to know that I'm done grumbling about being bored.
Sivan, the slightly emotional [he's Tamilian] cook, good soul that he is, is teaching me how to cook!!

K

Talking without talking

I know there's someone, somewhere, out there
Who's sure to find you soon
After the rain goes
There are, rainbows
You'll find your rainbow soon

[Adapted from, God knows where.. *corny smile*]







Sorry for being a jerk[don't realise it [tiny voice] most of the time].
And I guess,... that's that.

..and Monday night comedy saves the day :)

i'mgoingmadgoingmadmadmadhelp.


[this is in fact a cry for help]

Prayer to St. Jude [Patron Saint of Lost Causes]

Dear Jude, [I don’t really believe in praying to the saints, but I’ll let it go this time, given the nature of the request]
I’m not really sure what to ask for, but one of the following should do.
Please help me to learn to like my own cooking; I’m going to die otherwise.
Either that, or just make me a better cook and even if not that, perhaps a husband who can either cook or one who will learn to like my cooking, hopefully we won’t starve.
I remember once I asked God for wisdom. I’m wondering now, if it would be wise for me to stick to sandwiches.
I don’t really mean to be the sort that only comes to you when I want something, but I think I could use a little help here

Kiran


[I wonder where my ‘I Hate to Cook Book’ is]

Puppy Dog Tails

Brandi baby,

It makes me sad, a little bit, to hear that her enthusiasm has been curbed. That she is now well behaved and listens.
Brandi, my sister Joe’s [and of course Ninan’s] Labrador puppy came to live with us when she was two months old I think. And the first thing I noticed was that she didn’t cry the first night, like most puppies do. She was so happy she couldn’t stop wagging her tail. I love her, love her, love her.
She came to stay with us for a bit before my sister got married and was later to shift houses once she did. There was a lot of controversy about her coming to live with us in the first place. We live in a flat and there really isn’t place for a dog. And who’s going to look after her? Sure Joanne says she’s going to look after her, but who’s really going to end up looking after her, my mother wanted to know. What about toilet training and all that?
She came anyway.
She did all the things that puppy dogs are wont to do. She ate and ripped to pieces all the things that she wasn’t supposed to like the family [to be heirloom] Bible that Richard had specially got for Law, she ate the bows of my expensive shoes, which was pretty funny actually. I think that she only never touched my mother’s things. I suppose dogs can tell whom they can walk over and whom they can’t. [Is my usage correct?]
The hyperactive puppiness and extreme naughtiness aside, she had this zest for life, like she was just happy to be alive and she wanted everyone to know. It’s like you’re running, running as fast as you can on a hill.That’s green and has wild flowers, with a little bit of wind blowing through your hair and there's a smile on your face, just because you’re happy. That’s what she reminded me of. And then when she was all tuckered out [if that’s possible] she would plonk herself on my lap [even after she had grown too big to fit anymore] and fall asleep. Awww.
So now, it makes me sad, she’s all grown up and behaves like a lady. [Happens to the best of us]. And I know that this is something that has to be done, because it’s difficult, really difficult, and nobody really has the time or energy to manage a somewhat unruly Brandi baby.

For Caloovy baby,

I can’t tell you too much about girls. The only point in reference that I have is my self, maybe a couple of girl friends. But I have noticed this. All my girl friends, they’re really pretty. They are. But the boys they go out with. Ugly. Ugly as hell. It just reinforces my point. That a girl going out with a boy doesn’t have very much to do with how he looks. I’m not very sure about this, but I think girls tend towards boys who are in control of a situation, just a tiny bit dominating. It just makes it special for the girl when she gets her way, like she invariably does. I suppose to a large extent tallness, darkness, handsomeness would be handy things to possess, but there are always exceptions to every rule and sometimes in life [like french]there are more exceptions than rules.

k

[www.caloovy.blogspot.com]

gut wrenched

A little tentative about writing this,..Let’s see. You know, all the not so mind shattering things that happen but people don’t get to hear about them, simply because timings and schedules don’t coincide.

Another story :)
Title: The Lusty Wench

We were done discussing the tragic story of the best friend's life and it was about time to move on to mine. So. One step away from wallowing in self pity, I said it. I said what I was thinking. 'I’m never going to find my soul mate, even my hand says so. Bwaaahh.’[That’s the result of me believing for a second that what I say is true] The best friend comes over and dutifully puts her arm around me. I continue. ‘And worse, I don’t think I’m the lusty wench, I fancied myself to be. *sniffle* and I don’t even like cats, so I’m going to be old and alone and… cat less.
That hour must have been witness to the sorriest pair of wah wah cry babies ever.

Laughter that bursts forth. The smiles, unbelievably sweet. Never heard, never seen. You cannot put into words the unpromptedness of the moment. But I try, darn hard.

i wonder if she minds if i don't end it with love.

she must know that i do.

'Poem for Everyone'

I will present you
parts
of
my
self
slowly
if you are patient and tender.

I will open drawers
that mostly stay closed
and bring out places and people and things
sounds and smells,
loves and frustrations,
hopes and sadnesses,
bits and pieces of three decades of life
that have been grabbed off
in chunks
and found lying in my hands.
they have eaten
their way into my memory,
carved their way into
my heart.

altogether
- you or i will never see them -
they are me.
if you regard them lightly,
deny that they are important
or worse, judge them
i will quietly, slowly,
begin to wrap them up,
in small pieces of velvet,
like worn silver and gold jewelry,
tuck them away
in a small wooden chest of drawers
and close.
-- John T. Wood
1974

courtesy: www.jikku.blogspot.com

Grumblesville

If you’re a boy, you might as well stop reading about sometime now. I’m going to talk about [brace yourselves] ‘clothes’ and ‘shopping’

For a place that has SO many consumer items, you’d think you’d be able to just pop into one of the stores, pick up a skirt a pair of pants maybe a couple of blouses and be out of there. Tops, say forty minutes. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it? But nooo. You have to take one hundred things into account. If you manage to find something you like, you probably won’t find your size. It’s difficult to find clothes in a size six. Which is what I am. The starting, thank you very much will be a size eight. Anyway, the list of peeves goes on.
Annoyances aside, I did end up buying something. This blouse. It’s red. Not my favourite colour. But it suits. *sigh* Secondly it’s that horrid material that clings to your body. But it does flatter my frame. And thirdly the neck is cut in such a way that it accentuates my boobs, revealing but not vulgar. But then when was it ever advisable to wear anything that accentuates your boobs? Apart from that, bought myself another pair of heels la di da and another shirt, which I think is the decentest of the lot. Am going to have to find myself another camisole to unaccentuate my boobs if I ever want to wear that blouse. Drat. Till later,

K

some more scary shit

*slight intake of breath* damn i'm going to have to wake up and start paying attention

never thought you'd hear me say it

shopping.
hate it.

Candy
Is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker
-Ogden Nash


[thank you and of course. *biggest smile*]

something's wrong

i'm the one who should be saying thank you to you for caring, not you saying thank you to me for letting you care. i never understood you... [disturbed]

my feelings, usually justification for my actions. what if i can't find these feelings. then what?

We were sitting on the kitchen floor. Holding our cups of coffee with a little bit of Baileys. It was late. Early morning, in fact. It was one of the last conversations like that that we would have. She told me a story of love and lust, of deceit and betrayal. I could see hurt and guilt. More hurt than guilt. The only thing I said to her to assuage the feelings, was that everybody needs a little bit of drama in their lives. That little bit of hurt that never quite heals. We hold on to it and make it a part of ourselves. Letting it contribute just that much to the making of who we are. And we come out of it okey. We do. Imperceptibly hardened, but at peace with the world and ourselves.

a final parting of ways

but trust me

when i see you again, it will be as if i never went away

some people are too precious to miss.
- katherine george

Traces of a Memory

Evanescence is playing on radio. I remember a poster in a field. Musicians. Crowd. I’m upset and trying to hide it. But they can tell. They don’t push. Thank god. And I try to remember why and the memory changes. The phone rings. His name is Roger. Immediately my mind makes an unrelated connection. Roger. Roger’s sister Sarah. I nearly cry.

citrus and the window cleaner

He wanted to know if I was serious.

Of course I was.

I wanted to know if my weight would be a problem.

He said it wasn’t.

Perhaps.

He chose not to agree or disagree, effectively destroying any argument for or against the case.

Beautiful.

On cooking for myself

I'm the funniest girl in the world.

A man is a man only when he can be himself wherever he is.
- House of D

. 

A new book! A Beautiful Mind –Sylvia Nasar. And I haven’t watched the movie. Perfect.

At least there’s dinner to look forward to, with a darling cousin and possibly a somewhat cute [need to get used to the accent] boy, later on.

Patient.

Must I be patient?

All the willing in the world doesn't change anything.

I keep finding myself and I keep losing myself.








Ha [somewhat smile]

She worries about me….occasionally.



:)

I’m lost. I’m so lost. I purposely blow interviews off. When the interviewer is speaking to me, the only thing I’m thinking is, ‘when are you going to stop speaking, no this isn’t what I want to do. stop wasting your breath’ and the worst thing is that it shows on my face. And the thing is that these interviews are sure things. I will get the job, it’s all preset. The interview is almost a farce. If only I seemed a little more enthusiastic about it.
And I’m lost, because I don’t know what to do. And I think I'll just cry now.
Rubbish,I’m not going to cry. Bollocks to everything.

for a boy called Hil

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest of places. To pursue beauty to it’s lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.”

Arundhati Roy [The End of Imagination]

I don't know if this trying to survive on full cream milk as opposed to actual food, is a very good idea.

I tell her that I’m sorry I didn’t call. She must be so busy; I wouldn’t want to disturb her.


She tells me that she’s sorry she didn’t call or invite me over. She’s been really busy.


Why the pretense? Neither of us really want to meet each other, but we will… eventually.

My first edible meal. Yes pasta. Maybe something a little harder some other day.
 

the worst i could give you is my disregard.
the worst you could do is make me loose my trust.

well what do you think. about the somewhat new look.

Thinking

I realise that everyone's going to move away sooner or later. So what if I'm the first.
once the unfamiliar becomes familiar you start to like it. Yhat's what i'm afraid of.
Thank god for internet. Thank god for people who care.
This having of time on my hands and amenities at my disposal, it won't be forever [thank god for that as well]
A Predispostition to like. Perhaps not as bad as It seems.
What will I do with my life? All I have is a vague plan.

Notice

The wicked witch from the west shoes and I are now enemies.

I read some of www.blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com and it reminded me of so many things. What she says is true. Each of us we have a story, a couple of stories. We’re always on our guard. Always extra careful.

We shouldn’t have to be.

And the worst is the excuses. The disbelief that it’s happening. You think wrong. It’s some sort of accident. Fucker. Of course it’s not accidental. And then there’s the disbelief, it changes to embarrassment and then indignation.

If only I could have been then what I am now.

And things like this make me proud of people like Kat, people who stand up for themselves.

This is one of her stories.
She was walking down Brigade Road one day [not in the best of moods]. She was being extra careful because she knows how the fellows are over there and she was making a conscious effort to keep out of people’s way. There was this one, she noticed him, but she didn’t even imagine that he’d make a move towards her, he was just too far away. But he did. He banged into her. That did it. She caught him by his collar and screamed at him. She told him to apologize. He pretended as if he couldn’t speak. ‘Mphh mmmm’ he said. She said that she didn’t care whether he could speak or not. If he didn’t apologize, she would drag him to the nearest police station. [And she would have] He apologized.

Sure it also became food for humour, but I was so proud of her that day.

The Phantom of the Opera- beautifully done.

Breakfast

A funny sort of green vegetable looking thing [which tastes like mootlies] in a bland [i.e. tasteless] white sauce.

the first recepie

thanks for trying to grow me up

He was about two and a half inches too much into my space.

She always got it wrong.

'Shall we?', I would say.

'We shall!', She would smilingly reply.

I never bothered to correct her.

o minutes ago i couldn't help smiling. yeah, a really big full in face smile.

thank you.

for making me smile.

everything else, incidental.

I sense that she has grown and independent of me. We, independent of each other. She is more her own person and this is me letting her go. With all my love.

Never forget who you are.

I swear something around here stinks. I’m hoping to god it isn’t me and I’m pretty sure it isn’t, except that I happen to be the only one here.
On the other hand, I am in a room that is otherwise inhabited by members of the male species, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was something stinky lurking around somewhere. I certainly don’t want to find out.
Alright am off. I suppose a little culinary skill sharpening is in order. Perhaps I’ll fry a sausage or two.

k

unreal. it's all rubbish and unreal.
people have to be real don't they? if i can't see you and if you aren't within a ten minute radius of me at least and the chances of you ever being in that sort of radius infinitesimal, then i'm the one at a loss, aren't i?
the usual, better to have had something than never to have had it at all.maybe.
and i miss most the nice feeling that i can hold on to until it goes away. and it always goes away.


'back to where i am
back to in between'

sucker

i watched love actually today :)

This saying without saying. I do it sometimes. Because some things are better off left unsaid. I wrote the other day, ‘There are many S_’s in the world. The same beautifulness o f body.’ And the unsaid in this instance is that I would hold you in greater regard if I could appreciate you more for your beautifulness of mind.

‘My first meeting with you only confirmed what I first suspected. You are a fraud, a charlatan and a shyster. My favourite kind of person, in fact.’
The Liar- Stephen Fry

With one dismissive sentence he says, 'They’ve lost it. They’re mad both of them’. This is my family talking about my family. It fills me with a sense of foreboding more than anything else. These people they grew up together. The older they get the more opinionated they become. Less and less room for anybody else’s views.

It doesn’t have to happen to everybody. It doesn’t.

help

i still don't know when to use whom, who, who's and whose... it's mostly between the who and whom actually. gets me terribly confused. anyone?

There was this new person that I was rather taken with. When I say taken I mean. What do I mean? In this instance, he was lovely [and I mean the lovely this time] to be with. He lived on his own, in this nice uncrowded apartment. He let us watch movies whenever we wanted to and he had lots of DVDs. More than that, he made tea for us and gave us baileys too if it so pleased us. He was interesting to listen to too because he was a photographer for national geographic, so he had lots of stories to tell and well he was smitten with my best friend, so in an attempt to charm her, he had to be nice. Of course the girl refused to go there on her own, taking into account that she had a boyfriend and all. So, in a bid to ease her troubled mind I would say that I wanted to visit him and so we’d go. This is where my story starts. This boy he tended to use a lot of hmm, large words when he spoke. Now large words aren’t usually a problem for me and I can guess their meaning at least in context. But with this boy I couldn’t. And I wondered where he had picked up his vocabulary because it was apparent that he didn’t read very much, from the fact that he didn’t seem to know whom I was talking about when I vocally contemplated calling him Jeeves. [You know the tea and everything]. It suddenly came to me. He had to have done one of those exams where you have to study long word lists to go off to the u s of a. and he had. Gone off to study that is [and not photography]. So this is the end and I’d like a round of applause for my brilliant deduction and good luck to the boy. I admire him for being daring enough to choose his own life and succeeding in his profession.

i'm horrid :D *laughter induced by horrid act *



but you have to admit. sometimes people ask for it.

One of the few people who’s interested in what I have to say, and I push you away, because I sense that the interest is in more than just what I have to say.

You were just ordinary and I liked you. When did you become extraordinary?
22062005

Yesterday I met a lady who was… odd, I think would be a good way to describe her. She had a funny three seconds staring habit. She stared at me for about three seconds before she said hello and three seconds after. She said something to be friendly and continued staring for about three seconds after that, and when it was time to say goodbye, she took three seconds longer than necessary to respond and I imagine she also stared at my retreating back for another three seconds before she carried on with her work.

As incomprehensible as this earlier seemed to me, maybe I’m starting to understand a little bit the feeling that when my sister comes home from work there’s someone waiting for her who loves her very, very much.

I started out today all proud of myself. Yes, proud of myself, for figuring out how to attach the printer to the small computer. Of course there really isn’t very much to figure out. One plug here, another there. Clap, clap everyone. I deserve it. It isn’t that I did something marvelous, but whenever there’s something to be done, there are always at least three people in line ahead of me to do it. Like the other day for example, I decided that it was time to do something with that Goa lampshade that had been lying in my cupboard for over a year. Not really having any place to put it, I decided to put it up over the bulb above the tiny balcony outside our [my ex] room. My father suggested that I have a boy [i.e. Richard] do it. But no, Miss I have to learn to do things on my own, what will I do if there are no boys around, insisted on doing it by myself. So, there I was, precariously balancing between the window ledge and the balcony railing, trying my darnedest to get a hook-screw sort of thing into the wood base of the bulb. To my disadvantage I had height and I imagine a shortage of strength to hammer the thing in. And although I tried, I sadly found myself lacking in the skills required to do it. So I did the next best thing. ‘Richard!’ yup, I called in back up. Lovely boy [he he lovely] that he is, he got the screw in and left me to hang my shade up in peace. Which I did and I also said a little prayer asking god not to let the heat from the bulb burn the lampshade. So now every time you switch on the balcony light there’s this pink glow that fortunately doesn’t go much past the railing.
Oh and as for the printer, after all the self applauding and patting my self on the back, I found out very quickly that it was out of ink. The universe is against me I tell you, against me.

two steps forward, one thousand steps back.

scary shit. i think i'm mood swung!

others have come to similar conclusions long before i have. each one realises on their own. and the wisest of these take a realistic view of things and keep some realisations to themselves.

This World

The house is freezing. I don’t complain. It isn’t my house. But I will do something about it. Close the door, open the window. Let the humidity in.
I’m supposed to get a job here. I’m not even looking. I changed my mind. I look out of the window and I know why. It isn’t that I wouldn’t survive here. I don’t want to.
My teeth stop to hurt once the window is open. The heat. It’s comforting. And I wonder is this body so deprived of body fat that it refuses to withstand temperatures below twenty five degrees. Perhaps. I keep a glass of full cream milk at my side. Maybe that will help.
Everything in this house is at my disposal I have books and movies and internet and food. I don’t even have to cook or wash my plate after. Anything that isn’t here, I can have home delivered. But this house misses something.
It misses a woman and therefore routine.
This absence of routine doesn’t seem to tell on anyone but me.
The pink of this room. It hits me. But then I remember. The owner of the room is sixteen years old. She isn’t here. How does it matter? Least of all to me.
A stark world it is. This world without people.

it occurs to me to stop. not because i have nothing to say, because i have too much.

if some thing is added to you and the same thing is taken away, then logically you should remain the smae. here it comes :). screw logic.

I need to get back home and I refuse to take a taxi because it’s bloody expensive. I’m not terribly concerned. I do an unreasonably large amount of unwanted touring around the area before finally reaching Al Qusais.That’s where I want to be. From here I need to take a taxi back home. There is however a small complication, which I will not go into. I do manage to get a taxi, but sharing it with one other philipino and another man. And this is where my starring role begins. The driver starts to speak in hindi. Hero that I am, I pretend to understand. I even translate to the philipino. The driver, he’s grumbling away to high heavens. He wants to make the shortest trip possible. I’m certainly not helping. When he asks if it’s Al Futaim that I want to go to, I say, Yes, yes, that’s right and when he asks if it’s Double Cola that I want to go to, I say, Yes, that’s right, that’s right. [all in hindi by the way *cheesy smile *. Now this might not sound possible, this wanting to go to two different places and it is in face frustrating the driver. The thing is that I stay on the road between Al Futaim and Double Cola, a sort of I shaped figure could describe it. The driver just wants to take the shortest route, but the only thing I can say to that is, tough luck buddy. I don’t know, I’m new here.

Yesterday was laughable. I manage to get myself to the building and I'm asking for directions to the bank, but I can't for the life of me remember the name. I manage to remember it and I hurry up. I'm an hour late. I go upstairs and say, 'Hello, I'm here to meet...', *confused look* *mutters softly to self* 'What's her name?'
'Nithya' , the girl offers.
'Nithya', *smile*I gladly accept.

A part of me that I hate, the part that scorns.

I mourn the loss of a culture that I don't really want to embrace.Super contradictory, I wish I could explain myself.

'I'm thinking about putting you in a sari', she says.
And my mind is yelling, 'What demon possessed thought are you of anyway?!'
And my face , without missing a beat,smiles a sweet smile and says, 'Of course, that won't be a problem'

He wasn’t afraid or even bashful when it came to talking about things like nudity and lust. But for his sake, I would tell him to hush or to speak softer at least. Nothing he said was anything but natural. But everyone is not wont to see it that way. And these things tend to be considered vulgar and in bad taste [and sometimes they are (purely situational)]But he didn’t think that way. He would say things that people only think about , but never say out loud. I couldn’t quite manage not to smile, but I would yell at him and say, ‘ There’s a reason why no one says it out loud!’ What can I say. We live in a conservative world.


[Edited content] we don’t want this to seem vulgar or in bad taste.


This is where I disagree with the ‘he’ in question. Instead of making room in his mind for the conservative mindset that our culture has adopted, he scorns it. He feels that a half dressed person should be free to walk on the road [ I agree with this *] and not have anyone stare at them. [Which would be nice, but too high I think, an expectation]
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be allowed to do what you want. Just don’t expect everyone else to feel the same way about it too.


* in the interest of freedom of expression.

He gets all worked up and emotional. Yuck.

Have I become one of the two people that I laughed at? [And felt terrible about doing it.]
Is it time to laugh at myself?

I tried really hard, and I even wanted to, but I couldn't squish my ego and turn a light shade of pink, and ask.Dammit.

If I could choose to be anything, I would choose to be more articulate.

my book, my colour pencils and my black reynolds ball pen.

I served and fed a baby girl her breakfast just now. *warm fuzzy smile*

Yesterday I Lied

Are you reading the bible everyday?
Yes [lie]
Are you asking God to give you what you want?
Yes [maybe not what you think I want, but yes]
Will you come with me to church on Thursday?
Yes [lie] How can I go? Unrepentant liar that I am.
Persistent, isn’t she?

They look at me suspiciously.
I have a black tongue.
I couldn’t help but smile a minimally evil smile.

How am I supposed to be nice to someone who gives me the impression that they’re circling round me and getting ready to eat me?

sometimes i just change my mind :)

for no apparent reason

M,I don't even know if you come here anymore, to know what i'm thinking and what's happening with me, but I wrote this for you a long time ago. I wasn't sure if I wanted you to read it then, but it's okey now.



[ this is for you. read it.i hope you never understand it's meaning or even realise that it's you i'm talking about. the ambiguity is there ..in place :)]

would you disregard all the things they say about you,
there's a pent up anger , that needs release..and you the unwitting target.
you never did anything. just lived your life the way you wanted to.
the anger was irrational and as far as i'm concerned. unwarrented.
could you see it the same way and disregard it. like the rest. or let it hurt you like it could.
for you i'd choose the former.
and as for the good things. you will not know what they are...but know this...they are there. and that is your comfort.
k

LIAR

‘Does this look nice?’
Mind- no
Mouth- yes
‘Really?’
Mind- no
Mouth- yes

Oh god, she can tell when I’m lying.

In retrospect, everything is for the best. *genuine laugh* [shared with nisha]

The Evil Eye

I don’t know very much about this, but this much I have gathered. Some people by saying something good have a capacity to harm. That is the general belief.
I’ll tell you a story.
Edthine Bai [i.e. Our grandmother. That’s what she was called] had a beautiful boblae [that brings horribly funny images to my mind] plant. No I think it was a kvualo plant. She had directed it upward to the covering over the front courtyard for support. And so it grew and gave lovely big kvualo fruit. So many of them. They grew together and big.
Along came a man one day. He had to pass through their land to get to his. And he was know so much for his black tongue that parents [at least in my superstitious family] would shove their pretty little children out of his sight, for fear that he would say something nice about them.
To get on with my story. This man saw her fruit and said to her, ‘Edthine Bai, what lovely fruit’, and he went on his way.
Not two maybe three minutes after he passed that way. It happened.
The fruit began to fall *phat * *phat * one after the other, to the ground and smash. There was nothing that anyone could do.


There is another story that I had to laugh at.
His tomato plant died because the neighbour lady put evil eye on it.


The last one.
Her daughter lost weight because I said the other day that I thought she looked taller. *shrug * No evil intent there.

I wanted to write about something. A sound. Children usually hear it. I used to too. But I don’t anymore. Not unless I listen very carefully. It’s like a high piercing sound and crickets at the same time. If I had to draw it, I would draw a straight line with a zigzag line running over it. Two distinct sounds, yet one. I think sometimes that it’s blood rushing and I can hear it. A child asked me what that sound was the other day, the same way I used to ask my father what it was. I knew what he was talking about, but I didn’t know what to tell him. He was suddenly holding my hand. I knew he was afraid. He said that you could hear it in the kitchen. So I went to the kitchen to listen. He was right. I said come, come listen with me. He refused. I told him not to listen to the sound anymore. To listen to other things. It has the capacity to make you go mad.

Everyone’s asleep except me. The muted sunlight reminds me of something I used to know. Space and trees. The soft light will give way to a glaring, relentless heat.
I don’t like people reading over my shoulder, it’s annoying.
Everybody’s getting up. I’ll miss the aloneness.

Our conversations were terribly uninteresting and being the only logical thing to do, I lost interest.

anusha

I didn't take this picture but I think it's lovely. 

I thought it was funny considering that i feel like being a big cranky puss right now anyway.

we are the same, yet we are not the same.
i could never accept what you accept.
and i worry.
if i question you. will you question yourself?

..I don't want to know anymore.

*huge sigh [as if i'm carrying the whole world on my shoulders]*
a large part of me doesn't want to stay.

I wanted to know what he thought, and what he thought of me.Because it was apparent that he had.

i remembered something just now that made me smile :).
he was retelling a story. some movie i think and instead of saying [insert the hero's name] he said 'I'

@caraf- when we were little, i thought the world of you too.i don't know if you ever knew that.

i don't know about original thought. i know about influenced thought.

individuality... what can i say of that.
pseudo... they're all afraid of being fake. or so they say. i wonder why. does saying it out loud give them a sense of being more honest.are they just thinking out loud.they must be.

remember

milk[full cream]
henna
eat
fruit..
oil
fruit juice [better]
water..

Yesterday's Thought

Like two little girls, playing dress up. Except that one of them doesn't really care.

i woke up early [er] this morning and i'm thinking. it's nice to be alone when you want to be.

chick, if we both manage to make enough money [and we're both in the same city] do you want to move into an appartment,on our own? or does that not make very much sense and is it just wishful thinking?

for my friend

wait. wait till someone comes across you who takes the time to find out that the person that you are is as lovely [if not more] than your face.it isn't that your face isn't important or even less important, it is a part of who you are just like everything else about you.
but i've noticed that there are two[correction-three] types of people. the first and greater, the type that looks at your face and nothing else matters. the second[and fewer, but they do exist], the type that sees a pretty face and automtically thinks that she has air between her ears. and then there is another type. they start to like a person and they find that they coincidently :) like their face too, by association.
but you know what, there's no telling. like the saying goes. 'love is not only blind, in some cases it's also mental'
see you when i see you. it will be good to be home.

I saw something freakishly useful the other day. Someone sleeping with his eyes wide open.

Citrus.
Citrus cannot write, but she will try. She doesn’t have so much a story as a point of view.
Citrus always had knowingness about her. At least she thinks so. When she looks back at baby pictures she can see it in her eyes. Her elder sister Joe had a baby frowniness about her and her other sister Law had a baby duhness about her. Citrus, she was different. She wishes somehow that she hadn’t been. Babies aren’t supposed to be knowing. She thought the world of her sisters. I wonder what they thought of her.
Citrus grew, as children do and she wonders what sort of child she was. Yes, she remembers her mother chasing her around the house with a plate of food to make her eat. She remembers that she was scared of the last room. She’s still a teeny weeny bit afraid of the dark. But then, isn’t everybody?And in her defense, the last room was scary after dark. She was terrible at street cricket. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. Perhaps she had bad hand eye co-ordination. Maybe she still does. Either that or she closed her eyes every time the ball came in the vicinity of her self.
She grew some more. She didn’t make any friends. At least any that are worth mentioning.
She started to notice boys very, very late. They started to notice her even later.
But there was this one. The very first time she saw him, she knew he simply wasn’t someone she would have even considered liking, but she did. That’s a whole different story.
A few years later she grew, not so much in stature but in mind and even that not so much vertically, perhaps laterally. I can’t be sure.
She even made a friend or more correctly, the friend made her. And then she found another one. A sister became a friend and a friend became a sister. The best.
She knows what she wants to do. She’s just not so sure how, and because of this she says nothing of it.
Citrus sometimes wonders [not very often and mostly when she has nothing else to do] what she will end up being. Like everybody else, she hopes something good. She doesn’t worry too much about it. For now, she just is.

I love the sea. And I find this odd because I always fancied myself a mountain goat.

He took care to give the impression that he didn't.

And if none of the below works, roll up a newspaper,and chase them around the house like a mad person.

I’m telling you when it comes to children, emotional blackmail, tickling and sneakiness is the best. It still works with my mother. [Maybe not the tickling so much]

This one I will hold on to, with a piece of string [even if a very long one] and never let go.

Name: Kamal Singh
Context:I don't know

afterthought

If it is for you, the context will fall in place.
If it doesn't, ask.
If i want to tell you, I will.

She doesn't understand. It isn't that i'm opposed to working.But if i'm going to be doing something that i'm going to have to learn to like, I don't see why I shouldn't be paid an exorbitant amount of money to do it.

Je suis- I am
of the root
Etre- To be

in

hoover, i'll be coming home soon.we'll do something. not coffee. maybe conversation.

enough

Subjectivity can be rather painful.It makes room for everybody's views.

Some things are not justifiable.

Don't make an impression.Not on me.In fact, I would prefer it if you didn't even try.

once in a way you come across someone who means something, even if not in the traditional sense.
i'm glad i came across someone.[whoever the hell he is :)]

Too much of me.He tended to agree.Ha!

The shirt had a seemingly low neckline [it wasn't really].I carefully folded so as to hide the neck and threw it in the shopping cart, hoping they wouldn't look at it.Would they behave themselves?? No, they had to look at it.Okay maybe were entitled have a look,given the fact that they were going to insist on paying for it. So they look. 'Isn't the neck low?' he asks me.'I'll wear a shirt inside', I said.The wife smiles and says,'this is her age to show,let her show'....OH COME ON!!*rolls eyes* So, the husband makes his already big eyes bigger at me and we buy the shirt.

'Do you want to go to church?', she asked.

AS IF I had a choice.

I know his first name.He knows mine.
Does this mean that I can now graduate from, 'whoever he is' to 'whoever the hell he is'

corticosteroid

it affects growth in children when used over a period of time.

i wonder if a couple of inches would have made a life altering difference to me.

:)

nearly cried.nearly.

there's cheating and then there's survival, and a fine line of subjectivity between the two.

corticosteroid

I can be a tiny[very tiny] bit sadistic sometimes.

I taught her many things.

I taught her East Coast and West Coast.
I taught her how to shake her bum,
how to wink,
icecream soda and
sorry amma one plate puri.

*pretty darn pleased with myself*

bait.interesting..just not very.

kan with more time on her hands 

kan with time on her hands 

kan and the brat getting along. i quite like her after all :) 

and now years later, all i have to say for it is that everybody needs a little bit of drama in their lives.
you were mine,
he was hers
and she.. i think she was the drama in everybody's life

Breakfast

1 laban up
2 packets of chilly chips
2 milky bars

*big junk food smile*

i'm quite enjoying douglas adams after all. he makes fun of , pretty much everything. you know, americans, management trainees..

the information that they spew. it's all text book. text book rubbish. i know and i recognise it because i studied it. i never wanted to be like that. will i?


don't settle for less than what you want, he said.. what does he know?

the unlikeliness of the meeting appealed to me.too bad it didn't happen.

selective listening has become my most useful acquired skill.

for the unsocial, unfriendly person that i claim to be; i'm feeling rather starved for conversation.

your sensitiveness is a bore.

when evaluation of a subject comes down to a matter of opinion, i think mine could just as easily be the expert one.

to be honest, i find disco lights offensive. in very bad taste,really.

there's a whole indian ocean of difference between the way they think and the way i view, pretty much everything.

i feel like i've got a vile b complex pellet stuck in my chest. and i might well have one.

b complex is the vilest tasting substance ever. yuck

I make a terrible grown up.

i must make it a pont not to talk to people who irritate me.

i'm bored, i'm bored, i'm bored, helllllllppppppp!!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

they say that well water and sea water must not mix.

if anyone gets my meaning :)

our mangys are classists,so classist. :)

four times in konkani, once in english;for me.

and i try hard not to like her
but i do
and it's not hard.
i do because you do
and even otherwise
i'm sure i would.

i suppose hot water coming out of the cold water tap could be described as, gloriously hot.

and she makes faces at me because i opt to sit out of a mind numbingly boring award giving ceremony, which gave awards to a few business men [that i don't know and couldn't care less about] because they have businesses that are doing well and are making pots of money.

kan ventures a reaction

.ugh

for you

good luck and god bless you

DOES ANYBODY KNOW HOW TO BLOCK PEOPLE?

wish you were here

I can look, act and dress la di da,
and I'd fit right in.


Shit.

i wanted to gag the person who was shouting
'once more' 'once more', with a spoon.

i feel like a road roller just went over me.

tinted glass

how to react to a man who, for example, feels the need to tell a tailor that to alter a 38 size skirt to a 36 size he needs to take two inches off either side.

men and women can't be friends. the sex part always gets in the way. :)
-when harry met sally

clenched fists
and i open my eyes and notice that they are
and i wonder why

i used to make fun of disco chicks.
guess who has to be the disco chick now? *gag*

talk about irony coming back to bite you in the butt.

she taught me unlikely things,like how to pee in a common toilet without touching the seat and that even people called joyce and ganga can make a happy couple.

she was beautiful.a gowda by birth.she knew what was required of her and she didn't deviate from plan.

she ignored all the advances boys made at her.even from the boy that she liked.

i heard that she's married now.probably to some coffee planter, and stuck on an estate somewhere in shimoga.

...to vatsalya gowda. i hope you're happy,wherever you are.

'sit properly',he said.'it doesn't look nice,especially for a girl'
'especially for a girl', i thought.

he reminded me of things i used to know. things like propriety and conservatism. a way to sit, a way to eat.no books at the table.wishing elders and nuns, pleases and thank yous.

...

my manager taught me to sit that way. the most comfortable way in the world.

and sometimes i think, serves me right.

 

mangalorean women are mad.

i could just as easily make fun of your GRANDMA panties :)

'do you want to see a picture of my special someone?'she said.she was all of sixteen. 'yes', i smiled and said,'i'd love to'. i was twenty two.

old school

she was a lovely girl and i loved her dearly.

i can be terribly detached sometimes.

if i'm not overly fond of you, and if you ask me if something looks nice, and i say yes.. i'm lying.

Kill the uncertainty before it kills you.

man is like the flower of the field.
the wind blows over it and it is gone.
it's place remembers it no more.
-Bible

how astute i can be.

...... because i believe in god and i believe in me

don't settle for anything less than what you want, he said.what does he know?

a special meal for the child that's going away.her favourite food.mothers can be that way. :)

the rain will surely come

[courtesy-asya's blog]

selfish alien

to big hearts and nice people.
cheers!

i'm glad i stayed at home today.there's nothing like family.friends, i wouldn't say less than equally important, just differently important.

[this does not apply to the friends who are family]

sometimes i come across people with tiny houses, but hearts, as big as the world.

i could not eat and therefore i didn't.

summer holiday

a time in between.
i leave late. 'see you in the morning', i say.i'm done with the night.i get up early. my tooth brush is missing. it's been missing for about a year and a half now. so i make my way home to my own bathroom and my own tooth brush. the sunlight doesn't hurt my eyes as much these days.today i will not walk.i take a rickshaw the point three kilometer to my house.today the job of making rice has been delagated to the only available target. me.:) so i cook.
i've done in the past few days everything that you can possibly do. coffee, dancing, movies,board games,painted easter eggs,body massage,dinner and today i'm going swimming.apart from that i'm clean out of things to do.
we tire of each other my best friend and i, and by mutual unsaid consent we deviate from every waking moment with each other to spending time on our own,or with other people.we could invite others along to break the sameness of faces. but the only other that i approve of as entertaining enough, is smitten with the best friend,and therfore he looses the prominent position of entertainer.i guess you keep some and you let some go.i was sad to let this one go. i rather liked him.
i will be gone soon. but i will be back. sooner or later.

will i? won't i?

they say that you'll know, when you know.

The Road Not Taken
-Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;


Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost

it suprises me that the thought of being tied down never seemed as constraining then as it does now.

yes..i have been on guilt trips, but then that's between god and me.

unbearable, my eyes squeeze shut in reaction to the sudden saltiness. but how can i resist; whole mango pickle, straight from mangalore.

everybody needs a little bit of drama in their lives.

i'm a shooting star.

today i cried for a stranger.i cried for the loss of a baby. a baby girl.

of new non friends and easter eggs.of toast that's burnt and irksome things,like butter missing from the dish.a friend upset,a girl to wed, a disapprovig nod. she knows her mind,or so she says;don't interfere,i try. a cranky mom,a cranky me.my world has borne my wrath;and it survived and so did i.

belted pani puri. that's what i did today.in addition to kissing plastic feet and getting slowly baking in the sun.
good friday. that was my good friday.
my parents have improved over the years. before we had to eat kanji and pickle. now we have fish.and we have hot cross buns :) .my parents have never insisted that we fast, although they did make us go for way of the cross.lately they've decided that we're old enough to know our own minds and do what we want with regard to our religion.
jesus died today. two thousand and five minus thirty two years ago. so we wear sober colours and go to church and grumble about the heat. it's amazing the number of people who turn up to grumble about the heat.after that we have communion and kiss the feet of a figure on a cross. then go home and break the fast [which i don't keep] with hot cross buns or other things.
tomorrow i paint easter eggs :) and on sunday we eat easter eggs.
to easter![everybody] to easter

not taken aback

dancing to music you don't like can't be fun, drinking a drink you thought you liked, but realised you don't even less.a place so crowded with people pushing you this way and that while you try to balance in your high heels, quite a task.although that didn't stop me from doing any of the afore last night.[we need to give ourselves a little talking to with reference to making sure we do things we LIKE doing as opposed to things we don't]
that aside. i got further insight as to how a certain group of boys evaluate girls,and by girls i mean future wives. we were out with some friends, some of them guys [not the type that i'd consider spending quality hanging out time with]. one of these is due to be engaged in few weeks.the congratulations that were in order were duely given. then from a person who has not been conditioned to the concept of 'arranged marriage' from early childhood, the questions came, as they surely would have. me-'so why did you choose her?' he-'she was better looking than the others' me-*that's it?, incredulous look* he-*pause* 'she speaks well too' there were more questions of less consequence and then the curiosity subsided. i later heard that the real reason he was marrying the girl, was because she didn't like going out. alright then, so what does that imply he was asked. it meant that she had 'good character' he said. so what did that mean? that the rest of us who did go out [even if occasionally] did not? there are exceptions apparently.
people and their mindsets come in all shapes and sizes. i've always known that.

11032005
he flexes his arm involuntarily as he shows her the tattoo on his arm. something in his subconscious tells him to show off;for the girl

for those who need to know

and it appears that some clarification is needed.
when i talk about myself,more often than not, i refer to myself in the first person. eg: me,my,i could act as clues.and when i talk about something in general i use other useful pronouns.
hope this helps.
k

inside of your head, you know that it makes perfect sense to hate the person who broke your heart, then took it stepped on it,jumped up and down on it and squished it... but you don't. you just don't

summer dresses and skirts and things.wind blowing in my hair, it's night. the smell of rain in the air.and people ask me why the change.i smile and say,'it's summer'

all or nothing. i know that so well. and yet i cannot give you my all, so i will give you nothing.
goodbye, goodbye my friend.

I think the biggest thing that I realized in our "relationship" was that if you don't speak, people fill in the blanks.
-caloovy [not for blue moth :)]

clarification :
Just to let you know, I wasn't talking about my bestfriend (blue-moth) when I said that, I was actually thinking about a girl I went out with...And just to clarify (it seems to need clarification), that quote was about how people can interpret silence any number of ways.Sometimes people can make someone else's silence seem hostile, shy, confusing, romantic, understanding, etc.If you don't speak, you have no control over anyone’s impression of you.
-caloovy

girls are such contrary things. if a guy comes on to them they think 'fucker, he's only interested in my body'. andif a guy doesn't come on to them they think, 'fucker, what's wrong with him. doesn't he think i'm sexy?' :)i think girls doen't even get themselves sometimes.
[extract from marl's mind]

bombay-part 4

this one's for you de.vile :)

bombay- finally :)
we reached .. but we didn't sleep. our stay mostly consisted of going out dancing and going out dancing again. we danced and danced until my feet hurt so bad i couldn't dance anymore.my kinky chinky friend sema can dance till morning [if we allowed her that is]. marlene a few hours less. we went out dancing until marlene got sick. we wouldn't go out and leave her alone. so we stayed at home and played scrabble or coloured. we still did the usual. carter road and hill road and linking road and causeway. lunch at leopold square and gaylord cafe.dinner at crepe station and coffee at mocha and coffee day.
and a good thing it was that we stopped going out as much. because security where we were staying decided to get their knickers in a twist about who and what we were doing there. questioning and questioning. i suppose the short skirts and late nights must have set the colony gossipping.
[note: in our little world there is no none of your business and doesn't concern you. everybody's business is everyone elses. keeps our world in check i suppose]
marlene was miserable. traces of typhoid [or something like that] we later found out. so we left bombay one day earlier than planned. we didn't go to goa as i had originally planned.we're back. marlene still sick. me.. i'm not sick.
there's more. but i won't write it because this story grows tedious and i was never any good at endings i wish i was.

bombay-part 3 [the train]

so the train eventually does arrive. we make certain that it's the right train. the coimbatore express.also fondly called the kurla express, although there's no mention of this anywhere as far as i can see.and so the journey begins.

on the train....an extract from the blue book.

from 15/02/05
the only thing i like doing on the train is sitting by the door and reading. it's hot,still so hot...and it's dark already. we're still in andhra.

this must be the twenty third time i've stopped myself from grumbling and whining about the heat. it's pointless and i'm NEVER going to live in andhra.

...there's this little[muslim- i imagine, from the clothes and the fact that she speaks urdu] girl that's attatched herself to marlene. i've figured out a way to make her disappear. when she starts jabbering in my general vicinity,i ask her to sing. voila- she disappears :)

...she refuses to leave marlene alone...but she did for about two minutes. BIG MISTAKE...guess who's sitting where she was now *raises eyebrows twice with wicked grin* HA...:). marlene can thank me later.

and now to cut the the long journey short. we left about an hour and a half late and reached less than twentyfour hours later.

commendation to the two young men who were our compartment companions. they didn't stare. they didn't even look, they quietly read or did whatever it is they were doing.nothing untoward. which is more than i can say for all the other men on our left and right .*curses at them* [for the guys staring at marl] .me i smile [at myself and her] .it's the way of the train, so i've learned.

bombay-part 2 [the station]

so we're at the station all on our own.
kan-ha good thing we came here and didn't go to city. see how crowded it isn't?
kan/marl- general collective observation- what's everyone doing on the other platform *exchange of confused looks, shrug.. whatever*
from the other platform, two minutes before the train is due- hey the train's coming to this platform. repairs on those track.
kan/marl- [sound of train horn in the back ground] SHITT! both jump onto track and run across suitcases, kermit slippers and all. helpful others help with bag containing big green kermit slippers [gift for good friend sema]
make it across track. check selves and each other. all intact.relapse into we're cool looks. we wern't even phased looks.
the train comes- guess which train it's NOT??
..some other train. NOT going to bombay.

bombay-part 1[leaving home]

leaving bangalore- the setting- hyperventillating parents [both marlene's and mine]
my house- HURRRRYYY UP!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE??!! [ and other assorted hyperventillating sounds]
me- enjoying my bath. i do like my water hot :).. not nearly packed.
marlene's house- WHERE IS YOUR FRIEND??!!! TELL HER TO HURRRY UP!! no no don't wear that?! you'll attract too much attention. no .. don't wear that either, just two girls travelling alone on the train absolutely not. ok,you can wear that [loose tracks and a tee shirt].. WHERE'S YOUR FRIEND??!!

so we leave finally [my father sweetly throwing required things into my suitcase and finishing my packin :)(love you dadda)]
marlene's mom comes to pick my up to take us to cantonnment.
we reached early.
guess how late the train was? 1 1/2 hrs *rolls eyes up*

observation-parents think HYPERventillate is a cool word.

i am a flower quickly fading
here today and gone tomorrow
-casting crowns-[who am i]

... when we were little we couldn't wait to grow up and fall in love...now,we realise that broken knees are easier to heal than broken hearts!




[from sema for supernova]

it's been a while since i let the wind run through my hair....
..see you when i see you

put[er] off[er] - part 2

kaplooie!

put[ter]-off[er] - part 1

boys with high pitched girly laughs

..the excitement is starting to set in..*slight anticipating smile*:)

it's lovely to know the world can't intefere with the inside of your head
-angela's ashes
[frank mccourt]

a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes
a table full of people
i want to leave

this time there's no justification
it's me, not them


i should have gone out dancing tonight
i didn't.....damn

a boy apologised to me today.. he said he was sorry he couldn't be entertaining all the time.. funny guy :) *hug* for him

i realise now, years later why you reacted the way you did... you were just trying to protect me....... i'm sorry... and thank you

sometimes i feel so BABY.and i stop and think. 'but i'm not'.. and i try hard not to be.. but i guess there's still a little bit of baby inside of me. yesterday i went and bought a pictionary game because i felt like it.i forced marlene to play and she forced her baby brothers chris [18] and ted [20] to play with us.. because we need four people at least.we stuffed our faces with pizza and ate twisty bread because lent starts today. no meat in their house. my house of course doesn't abstain or anything[except on good friday] because my father i think doesn't believe in the motions of the catholic church [although he is catholic]... my mom however does.. so we might be on a fish and/or vegetable diet for a month [yetch!]

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

focus..defocus ..focus.. focus! i'm in church and i'm listening to what the priest has to say.. and this time i even prayed.these days i go to church because i want to.
i went to church today and i made sure that the ash on my forehead stayed so that i could show my mom. it makes her happy or something when i go to church.she gave up insisting that i go a long time ago.i found out the significance of ash wednesday today. it serves to remind us that we will not live forever. to stop and repent for our sins.from ashes you came and unto ashes you will return.

everybody's in love... how annoying *sour puss glare*

if anybody on the train asks you if you have a boyfriend, the correct answer is yes.... irrespective

i felt so stupidly uncultured on the train.language is a part of our culture. i proudly tell firangs that the average indian [south indians for sure] can speak at least three languages..i can't *lowers head*.. i heard an old guy tell a boy who was staring at me 'angrezi ladkio badi mushkhil hai'.. i don't even know if i got that right.. and i felt bad[rather sorry for myself actually]..he said this because i spent a lot of time reading instead of being social..and i wasn't reading premchand

three blogs:
www.notesinmypocket.blogspot.com
www.pispeak.blogspot.com
www.caloovy.blogspot.com

i left a house that was empty of people... i came back and it's full again[a few additions in fact] *big smile*.. it's good to be home...

why i don't trust men .. thanks funny guy 

thank you for the song present george thomas :).. i've never got one of those before
- damien rice-the blowers daughter

I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

:)
[courtesy- saby's blog]

always be suspicious of free stuff

how the old ladies discuss and defend their faith [no one is attacking it mind you]

post for kenneth

*smile* i'll tell you then.

my grandparents lived on god's hill,in a place called nakre.nakre means 'mother of pearl' after the mother of pearl shell. it's hot, so HOT over there, except when it rains. then there are streams which flow down the rocks and form rivulets around them and just go all over the property..and fish.. there are tiny fish in these seasonal streams that come and nibble at your fingers if you keep still long enough.you can even catch one with your hand if you're fast enough.
there's a lime business too... i suppose that's more lucrative than farming.. so there's always a hugh pile of shells at the end of the red mud drive[which has trees on either side]
in the summer. time drags on. you can finish a book three times as fast as you could have if you were in bangalore.no one makes you do anything there.. one week seems like three and you try to stay in that part of the house which has a wooden roof and a fan. not the front part which has asbestos for roofing, because asbestos absorbs heat and only makes it hotter.
the bathroom used to be outside. and to heat water there was this HUGE cauldron fixed onto a wood fire stove. lol the bathing area was next to the buffalo shed, so you were never alone when you were having a bath. next to the bathroom was another room. a store room of sorts, where there was only wood.. and a chicken that used to go there to lay eggs.
the buffaloes.. there were five maybe...i used to like to feed them, but my uncle used to tell me not to go near they'd bite me :D..at least thats what i imagine he meant.. because he like almost everyone else there, only speaks konkani and i don't.
there were bananna trees,i never liked the yelakebala banannas, but there was the bananna nectar... and there were tamarind trees... my favourite. there are mango trees everywhere. the best mangoes though are the ones that you don't cut. you make a hole in it and suck the juice out
my grandparents... my grandfather[aana], he was relatively tall and fair with grey eyes [ you occasionally get that sort there]and white hair.. my grandmother [mai] was his opposite.. short and dark with black hair and bad eyesight i think... my mom says that she refused every proposal that came until my grandfather.. and then she would have no one else :)
my grandmother, who had either lost her memory or eyesight by the time i was old enough to talk to her, used to look at me and say 'bari sobeeth danth' [beautiful teeth] lol becaus she didn't have any by then, i think [hehe my mom would be really annoyed if she saw that, you can't say things like that about your grandmother]
that's all for now...
k

a lot of amateur[entertainer] foreigners like to practise on the beach-kudle beach