Dedicated to all the man species...

Last night I was talking to one of my close college mate and we went on from talking about her man, my man and then just MEN! We spent hours going over the same things that we have been doing. She said something that made me laugh for hours after she hung up. She made a comparison of men that I had never heard before. “Men are like the robots in the movies. They are created to serve a purpose. Everyone is happy in the beginning of the film with how much easier life becomes. But it always ends the same way. The robots get over-smart and think they know more than their creators. And suddenly they are on a spree of trying to take over the world!”(Lol...Now that’s made up by me... I mean the comparison..Spare my friend...Identity not disclosed)

As true as that is, I really think we should have the kind of happy endings that those films have, where the robots are killed and life suddenly becomes more peaceful. Ha ha, I’m not a man hater, I actually love observing them. Isn’t it odd how men function? It’s always brought to light how women are complicated, but what about how men manage to screw things up? Ever noticed how, you want them to know something and move to action about certain matters, and they don’t? Well, they usually don’t do what you expect them to. My rule is, don’t expect! But then again, I stopped following rules since I was 2. But I do have a few things I believe in quite strongly.

It’s true that the Knight in shining armour is in reality, almost always, a retard in tin foil. He will look so good from far away and once he is nearby, you will soon realize the old saying, “All that glitters is not gold” was actually written for that one species only!

I still am amazed at how well they can switch off and on within seconds. They will pick up only what they want to hear!

I laughed when someone told me the other day 'if you love them you want them to be happy, you would do anything!' Men never think that way. On their priority list is them on the top and there is a big “full-stop” after that. The harder you try to get on that list, the more he is going to keep you away. Period. So like they say about butterflies, ignore them long enough and they will come chasing you, start giving a damn and see how much it helps!

In the end the best way to handle the species is occasionally feeding their egos, often giving them a kick in unconventional ways, being manipulative without feeling guilty and every time he pisses you off, punch him. Kidding***
I really think the rant has gone on long enough and I really don’t want to seem like I can survive without them. Cos more than I want to, I believe that the argument always goes in a circular motion to end at the same note. You can’t live with them and you really can’t swing the other way. Even in a lesbian relationship, there’s one who wears the pants, isn’t it?

Dedicated to one of the rare true good friend.. i made...

I have a dream...

every time, I close my eyes.

When the silence is deafening,

when the darkness engulfs me,

its you i see.

Beautiful and standing tall,

looking for someone.

I see me..afraid

and lonely.

"Come to me...

complete me.." I plead...

but you do not hear me,

its someone else you seek.

Do you not recognize me?

Eyes that you once looked into,

and made promises of forever...

Don't these hands seem familiar?

They're the same ones you held,

when you slept at night,

I see you with someone else,

you take her hand,

like you once did mine...

you look into her eyes

and are lost...what you say to her...

I know I cannot bear to hear.

It pains my heart to feel this way.

But my dream does not end here..

its my dream..allow me to spin it around you...

as long as you are in my dreams,

i am close to you...

i fear to think of what were to come...

If i stopped dreaming..nothing more to live for...

Hush..oh cruel world...

...I'm dreaming.

---pranali..

The MODERN roller coaster ride.. i dont enjoy...anymore

I've been pushed on to a roller coaster I didn't want to be on I can't see what lies ahead, but looks like a long ride The highs that come make the lows steeper I'm all by myself and I'm getting scared I'm dizzy and I can't see straight I scream for help but it's my battle It's going to be tough but I will come out stronger I can go through the ride or jump off mid-way Trying to make up my mind, on the edge

yeah..sure..i'll sign your petition...

It’s tough to pass up an opportunity to express yourself, especially in a situation like now, when everyone wants to speak up.

On 26th November terrorist attacks occurred in the Taj hotel, the Oberoi Trident, Nariman house and CST station. The attacks ended on 29th when Indian security forces, in Operation Black Tornado, regained control of the attack sites.

I chose to stay shut about this incident because nothing I say matters. I can stand in the sidelines and go on talking about it, cowering in the shadows because all I can do is talk.

It’s not a challenge to get me emotion or feel gooseflesh at any show of respect or patriotism to India. I’ve had tears in my eyes in movie theatres during the National Anthem.

I was at the protest march on December 3rd at the Gateway of India, where more than ten thousand Mumbaikars came out on the streets. That's where I took that picture from. There were people waving flags, lighting candles, shouting slogans but the only thing that made me feel anything was the sight of the commandos. A huge rush of pride.

Like everyone else, I watched the news those 3 days with dread. I prayed for those held hostage and I cheered for our cops. But I’m not angry, I’m not screaming for action and I couldn’t care less about old retards retiring.

What I do want out of this, is for our cops to be better equipped with guns, and arms and bullet-proof vests that function and are effective. We can not still be using lathis in this day and age. I want India’s security and defence to be top-notch, after this terror-filled year we’ve had.

If this large scale meeting is of any use and has any impact, I’m not too positive.
I went there, I jostled through the crowds, I saw the gateway, I prayed in the direction of the Taj (which was my reason to go) and then came home. If my doing this is going to matter, if my doing this with a thousand others is going to matter, I don’t think so. I’ve seen and moved on from many other terror attacks in this city and country to believe that we have truly woken up. Woken up enough to not press snooze button again.

I think I heard ‘enough is enough’, ‘it’s time we act’ during the Mumbai train blasts and sometime before as well. Anybody still care to know what the situation in Assam is like?

And the next time someone mentions the ‘spirit of Mumbai’ even near me, they are getting knocked in the head with a chair. There is no such thing as the spirit of Mumbai. People go back to work, no matter what happens, because they have to. People survive on daily wages here; Mumbai couldn’t afford to stay home, scared.
People have short-term memories. People have lives, they go back to. And people have no clue how to channelize their anger.

Protest marches, peace marches, rallies, charities and donations will all fade away in a while, the fervor will die out and we will all go back to our problems, our celebrations, and our own drama series. Until the next time, some other people lose their lives.

And I’m not trying to be cynical.

Normal and average

I met her just that one time.

There was no fire in that eye neither that jump in her step.

No kohl-lined eyes, no skinny jeans, no girly shoes, no colour on those square nails.

She just looked and walked. Average and ordinary.

Not one to stand out in a crowd, not one to be remembered for a special talent, not one to be called popular, she just walked, normal and ordinary.

She wasn’t that bookworm, that smarty pants, that funny one, that leader, that cool chick, that prankster, that writer, that dancer, that singer, that artist, that creative one, or that extremely pretty girl. She was someone nobody would want to be.



In moments of self loathing and pity and weakness, she wished she was more interesting, maybe someone with a dual life, student by day and rockstar by night, or writer by day and superhero by night, that would be cool or maybe she could be just a little funnier or better looking, or some one who could pull off red nail paint or that full-of-confidence stride.





But I missed something. How could I have missed it?

My eyes had failed to see beyond or past the stereotype.

It was a look of easiness, like someone who had accepted who they were and resolved to make the best of it, a hybrid look of determination and drive that seemed to have grown from seeds of self-doubt.

That walk, that walk I mistook for ordinary, seemed to say, ‘I am what I am’

Those eyes, were deeper and wiser than I had imagined. But they said nothing. They gave nothing away.



She laughed and smiled, jumped and played, loved and lied, gossiped and bitched and did everything everyone else did. She wasn’t that bookworm, that smarty pants, that funny one, that leader, that cool chick, that prankster, that writer, that dancer, that singer, that artist, that creative one..

But she was smart and kind and responsible and fun and hard-working and she didn’t give a damn about being second or third fiddle, she didn’t give a damn about how people though they were better than her at whatever.



She wasn’t a loser.

She wasn’t just normal, average or ordinary.

She was perfect at being her.







Dedicated to all ‘ordinary’ girls. Like me.

me......

There is a girl i know
who goes thru highs and who goes thru lows
she thinks i dont know.

i watch her everytime
in her every crime
she forgets to soon
the ones who helped her and the ones who dont
she dosent look back to the shoulder where she cried
she dosent hold the hand on which she once relied.

but she does not know that i am watching
i know it everytime when you havent been enough caring.

i know it everytime when you seek attention
i know it everytime when you create tension

you know you' re wrong you know everytime
but with all ur defence mechanism u try to hide.

how much ever you blame everything else
to me it dosent make any sense
its in you, and you know
and you think i dont know

but you know what its just that i dont show

Be the Change

We all want change But no one wants to change
It hurts to smile
When you're dressed in sadness
But it's not about you
It never was
Your grief is a smokescreen
That hides you from love

Change...

There is no greater power

For a brand new start

Than listening

Really give your heart

Forgive yourself
Forget the past
Acknowledge
Who you were
Declare
Who you are
Let the chains fall loudly
Leave them where they lay
Follow not your sorrow
But the hope in your heart

That Girl...

One day you're going to want that girl. The girl that knew she wasn't perfect, but tried to be perfect for you. The girl that believed the scraps of you she was given were worth it because something was better than nothing. The girl who wanted nothing more than to be there for you, & loving you was the only way she could. The girl who sees your flaws, but values them as much as your strengths. The girl who still can't bring herself to hate you, even though sometimes you probably deserve it. The girl who saw past your pretty eyes & treasured parts of you that no one else has ever appreciated. The girl who realizes she may never have your heart, but will carry the image of you in hers forever. The girl that sees this & still loves you. The girl that should have you, but doesn't....

Once upon a time..

Once upon a time
Not so far away
I wished to be
The person I am today

But how special am I?
What accomplishments have I made?
I did things I told myself I'd never do.
My own heart, I betrayed.

And all I can do now
Is regret that mistake
Of being given a chance
That I never did take

I'll have to live with this burden
Deal with these lingering recollections
Try to fix my mistakes
Without the ability to make corrections.

I am the author of my life.
Unfortunately, I'm writing in pen.
I can't erase my mistakes,
But I can write a new end.

Words....not so perfect...

I always try to find the perfect words to write,

To make a beautiful poem made just for you.

Sometimes I hope my heart will do a good job,

But it never comes out right; the words will never do.

I'm often looking for new words; new phrases,

Hoping that it'll express my hearts loving phases.

I smile when I think about you, so you know,

And I hate leaving you when I have to go.

Every time I see you I can't help but smile and feel,

The way that I feel so deep inside for you.

You know, it's a warm feeling that this is so real,

Every moment is magical, that it seems so unreal.

I trust these words on paper and the screen,

To say the things I wish that I could scream.

Every time I'm reminded of you, thoughts flow,

And I think of a million things you'll never know.

Things I want to say but the words aren't right,

I need special words to proclaim my heart.

I searched the dictionary so late into the night,

But nothing I found seemed to give me a good start.

I like the way you look into my eyes so deeply,

It makes me smile so much; uncontrollably.

Even though I say it, I know that it'll never do,

Too bad these feelings aren't as simple as "I love you".

Every night, and every day since I fell in love,

I've been trying to think of ways so I could let you know.

My heart and mind won't collide to think of,

Something to tell you how I feel; of how I love you so.

With angel wings you float my heart up so high,

And with every kiss I feel that I may just die.

So much magic to intake; an obsession I'm sure,

I've never seen something I so badly wanted to endure.

Now this poem is almost done

 An I've got tears in my eyes with no where to run

I hope someday my picture you'll see and remember the girl I used to be

So Simple...

Why strive for more than average?
What's wrong with the simple life?
Ignorance is bliss
Meager or eager?
What makes us reach for the stars?

Is it life's greed for life
That we think we must strive?
Believe we can change, grow, rise above
With the strength of our will
Live one more day
In hope of a miracle

Why do the hearts of men
Relish beauty, fantasy,
And stories of the gods?
Do we miss being among them?
Or are they bedtime stories that keep us alive?

Thinking aloud..

For a lot of reasons, friends are like clothes. Both are essential, necessary and close to the heart. They serve the same purpose too, they protect, they reflect. While a man is known by the company he keeps, he is also known by the clothes he wears.

I wear what I like, I befriend who I like.

The various levels of friendship may also be akin to the relationship one has with one’s clothes. Some fit just snug, some cosy, some fair-weather. Some fit just so comfortable that one doesn’t ever want to move out of them, some are just so downright uncomfortable that one can’t wait to get out of them, some are just about nice, and some are extremely special.

Hence, I safely conclude that we can outgrow friends. What fit me seven years ago doesn’t fit me anymore; no matter how hard I try to hang on to it. But then again, I love the fact that some of them have grown with me, on me and I would never part with them.* Today, I cleaned out my closet. Chucked everything that doesn’t fit me anymore. Every little piece that was once loved but has not proven worthy of my attention for the past year. After all, I need to make room in my wardrobe for newer things,newer people, that are as always, chosen with extreme care. As for that essential white shirt and that sexy black dress that every girl’s wardrobe must have, I am so glad I found you, you know who you are.


*If you want to argue over the fact that clothes that I own for seven years cannot fit anymore, don’t. See me in my black T-shirt, which, interestingly is very often. I will NOT part.

Prince charming

Prince Charming

Prince Charming's just a mem'ry
a faded distant dream.
My fairytale ending
got lost somewhere it seems.
No knight in shining armor
atop a fiery steed
to slay dragons for my favor,
to sweep me off my feet.
A fantasy from childhood
has long since met its fate,
so if you're trying to be Prince Charming
you're just a little late.