In a tattered night
I've sutured dreams
of faint starlight
your galaxies
exploding silently
cosmic finality
of beating heart
that strays in your path
to be picked up
on an extend nail
affixed on your neck
in rhythmic procession
beating in a trifecta
of galactic trail
Thursday, 30 November 2017
made up memoirs
Here's a funny thing about memories- they randomly pop out of the weirdest places of the oddest things, and you're left reminiscing about them in a light you probably might not have at that moment of the incident.
Case in point my visit to Sephora in Delhi.
Not a spectacular place, but okay lot's of makeup in one place and what not..great! Here's the odd part.
The salesmen of shop attendants or whatever is it that one calls them were all men.
I don't know why but I felt rather uncomfortable talking to men about makeup and listening to them suggest colours and tones for my skin.
Not that it's a problem, anyone can buy or sell makeup, but I didn't feel relaxed while browsing for goods or swatching colour because a man would pop up out of nowhere and start asking me what I was looking for, brand, skin type etc, and really I wanted, needed a woman to come over and talk to me about these things, and all the female sales representatives (I think that's the correct terminology these days) stood in a crowd and chatted on, while men, who I didn't think would understand makeup the way women do, crowded over me, applying creams on my hands, shoving concealers on my face, dangling primers on my head, and though they were just doing their job I just felt mighty uncomfortable.
I wanted to hear a woman's voice talk to me about foundations and night masks and lip glosses, and mattes, not men. Ugh.
I'm not being a sexist in any way..you see, I'd be okay if some man who wore makeup showed me these things, but then none of these men were the kinds who wore or even went close to makeup and knew the nitty-gritty of how makeup applies or the problems women face with certain areas on their face, things that only women or men who wore makeup would know.
It's something similar to buying lingerie or discussing it with a male rep. Yes, they can sell lingerie but they don't know the specifics of that particular garment the same way a woman or a man who wore lingerie would know and understand.
Yeah, so memories and odd thoughts. strange.
Inner monologues
Who me?
Why, I just got back from the bank.
Bank work, for which I left at 7:30 to reach there on time at 8:00, and realise it was closed because the opening time was 9:00.
Then what?
I just stood out, waiting for the bank to open and then it began to rain
Uh oh?
Yeah, I sought shelter under an awning and held up my umbrella but there was a strong gale and I was getting mindlessly wet and so much for walking to the bank.
Oh dear!
Yes indeed, I'd not even breakfasted, thinking my work would be done in a short short while, but no!
And so?
I was near a shopping complex abrim with pastry and coffee shops that beckoned to me
You didn't!
I did. Walk into a patisserie I did. Sat on a warm chair I did. Order a Danish pastry, a small egg sandwich and a steaming pot of hot coffee, I did. What can I say? I caved in.
On a Thursday?
Precisely and I'm sad and yet not overly so. Things happen. Plans go awry. Learn to deal with it.
And the bank work?
Uh, only partially done. I've to be back there on Saturday morning. (Sad face)
Why, I just got back from the bank.
Bank work, for which I left at 7:30 to reach there on time at 8:00, and realise it was closed because the opening time was 9:00.
Then what?
I just stood out, waiting for the bank to open and then it began to rain
Uh oh?
Yeah, I sought shelter under an awning and held up my umbrella but there was a strong gale and I was getting mindlessly wet and so much for walking to the bank.
Oh dear!
Yes indeed, I'd not even breakfasted, thinking my work would be done in a short short while, but no!
And so?
I was near a shopping complex abrim with pastry and coffee shops that beckoned to me
You didn't!
I did. Walk into a patisserie I did. Sat on a warm chair I did. Order a Danish pastry, a small egg sandwich and a steaming pot of hot coffee, I did. What can I say? I caved in.
On a Thursday?
Precisely and I'm sad and yet not overly so. Things happen. Plans go awry. Learn to deal with it.
And the bank work?
Uh, only partially done. I've to be back there on Saturday morning. (Sad face)
Wednesday, 29 November 2017
Up down date
Wasn't it just yesterday when I spoke so highly of having all the time in the world, and yet I didn't find any to finish my story for today.
One moment I was wracking up my word count designated to each part I post and another I was greeting surprise guests and within moments it was dinner time and socialising time and now it's bed time and even though I've just a few more hundred words before the next chapter I can't get myself to work at night, not least because I find it hard to concentrate at night when the only thing I'll be wondering about will be waking early in the morning.
Also, it just feels alien to sit in a separate room so late at night, and that it's so dark makes it feels like another life in some other part of time.
So yes, the story is delayed and I'll have it put up tomorrow, not that it matter but I think to me it does.
So phew!
What next?
Oh yes, it's raining as usual and it's cold and dark, not that darkness makes a difference seeing how dark it was the entire day, but ugh, ice bank work tomorrow..double ugh.
Hearts. Misses
One moment I was wracking up my word count designated to each part I post and another I was greeting surprise guests and within moments it was dinner time and socialising time and now it's bed time and even though I've just a few more hundred words before the next chapter I can't get myself to work at night, not least because I find it hard to concentrate at night when the only thing I'll be wondering about will be waking early in the morning.
Also, it just feels alien to sit in a separate room so late at night, and that it's so dark makes it feels like another life in some other part of time.
So yes, the story is delayed and I'll have it put up tomorrow, not that it matter but I think to me it does.
So phew!
What next?
Oh yes, it's raining as usual and it's cold and dark, not that darkness makes a difference seeing how dark it was the entire day, but ugh, ice bank work tomorrow..double ugh.
Hearts. Misses
Lo lunch
Brrr today
Missings hissings
Last night as I wondered
Why must my heart hurt so
is there a reason today
thoughts dripped in woe
and so I knew
is been a while
since I saw a face
watched it smile
''tis been oh so long
this aching gap
of winter's wrong
has stretched infinitely
each moment strong
not a second alone
to cast a stone
or float a boat
the wormhole pines
my time zone denies
and so I strew
just as you
bottled messages
in digital seas
Why must my heart hurt so
is there a reason today
thoughts dripped in woe
and so I knew
is been a while
since I saw a face
watched it smile
''tis been oh so long
this aching gap
of winter's wrong
has stretched infinitely
each moment strong
not a second alone
to cast a stone
or float a boat
the wormhole pines
my time zone denies
and so I strew
just as you
bottled messages
in digital seas
Tuesday, 28 November 2017
the knife of hearts
Spending over two hours sharpening knives might seem just that bit extraneous but it is, in fact, the most significant part of your kitchen vanity, which doesn't translate to a superfluous function of arbitrary beauty, but practical utility.
Speaking as someone who wields knife nearly as much if not more as pens and colouring tools, I could not emphasize enough on the usefulness of sharp knives in the kitchen, not least because it serves the most important purpose, that of slaughtering, chopping, carving, slicing, dicing, skinning, peeling, cutting and so on; it is also a reflection of your kitchen and an important implement in silently describing your behaviour in general.
Buying sharp knives is as easy as ignoring them when they go dull, and dull knives speak of laziness, callousness and an obdurate diinclination to be a part of kitchen, which is a rather unbecoming trait of any household.
Kitchen, in essence, is the heart of a home and neglecting its needs and desires results in the overall sickening of the essence that builds to make a home.
Knives are like its arteries that have to be kept in fitful states so they don't get blocked and obfuscate the efficient movement of the heart.
Knives, often times go dull, and it's our duty to keep them looking and behaving in the manner they were always meant to be. Disrespecting them by letting them lose their edge or (gasp) letting them rust is a crime most vile towards any self-respecting kitchen.
If you love your knives, they'll love you back. watch them shimmer in action with lightning fast chopping, enabling faster meals. A sharp blade results in cleaner cuts, uniform slices and accurate sizes that cook better, resulting in tastier food, with better caramelization and uniform cooking time.
We often forget these basics of home cooking, thinking it's just home food, everything goes!
If that's the attitude towards kitchen, food and knives, then that is the attitude in general.
Light up your kitchen. Sharpen your knives, give them some love and feel the difference.
few things in life are nearly as satisfying as watching a sharp blade in action.
When life gives lemons
I was almost coming down with a cold last night, and I say almost because it lingered about the periphery of my health a while and retreated into viral depths of nauseating sufferings..only because I had the presence of mind to immediately drink warm lemon water that very moment.
Now, I don't know if that was the exact reason or because it just didn't mean to infect me, considering I always drink lemon water each morning and by that rule alone I should've been immune, but I do thank my stars or lemons in this case for saving me from cold, at least I'd like to think so.
Incoming cold sends various signals to a body, a way of herald to inform the immune system of its savage onslaught, and in my case it inevitably begins with a violent itching of the right eye.
Weird isn't it?
But that's how it is.
When my right eye begins to itch in a way that someone is sitting behind my cornea tickling it with a sandpaper sending me in to a convulsive frenzy of uncontrollable scratching, I just know it to be incoming cold–that's when my eyes begin to water and the tickling sensation travels down to my nose from my eyes and I start feeling like I'm coming down with something.
I squeezed a fat lemon, juicing it until its gut spilled out and dowsed it with warm water, and what I drank, sour as it was just remedied the situation almost overnight.
Will this cold come back? I don't know, but I'm sitting in a lime shrine, praying it does not.
Now, I don't know if that was the exact reason or because it just didn't mean to infect me, considering I always drink lemon water each morning and by that rule alone I should've been immune, but I do thank my stars or lemons in this case for saving me from cold, at least I'd like to think so.
Incoming cold sends various signals to a body, a way of herald to inform the immune system of its savage onslaught, and in my case it inevitably begins with a violent itching of the right eye.
Weird isn't it?
But that's how it is.
When my right eye begins to itch in a way that someone is sitting behind my cornea tickling it with a sandpaper sending me in to a convulsive frenzy of uncontrollable scratching, I just know it to be incoming cold–that's when my eyes begin to water and the tickling sensation travels down to my nose from my eyes and I start feeling like I'm coming down with something.
I squeezed a fat lemon, juicing it until its gut spilled out and dowsed it with warm water, and what I drank, sour as it was just remedied the situation almost overnight.
Will this cold come back? I don't know, but I'm sitting in a lime shrine, praying it does not.
Monday, 27 November 2017
Lunch me please
Veggie scramble with potatoes, peppers, tofu and mushrooms with dollops of hummus to mimic the eggy protein; punctuated with a sea of sriracha.
The long end
Mornings are not for me, no sir, they're just not.
As alien, abnormal, unusual, even silly as I find waking up early in the mornings, there is no way around it.
I can either stay embedded in my bed like a dead widget or get a move on to get things done that need be done in mornings.
Yes there are chores that need finishing, food that needs cooking, lunch that needs boxing and breakfast that needs fixing, but for all that waking up so early feels a bit savage.
Especially in winters when sun won't rise until it's almost afternoon and the barest hint of a finger outside of warm bedding seems to shrivel into a dried raisin, and yet one has to slide out of their comfort zone to get things done.
This is, the sad way of life and if there ever were a getting around it, I would without the blink of an eyelid circumvent my way, which is why I have been nothing short of surprised when the past few days I've not only willingly gotten out of bed at 5:00 but almost immediately, after a short sip of water, left for a long, long, brisk walk.
Now, one might roll their eyes and say what on earth? As did I the first time, but here's the thing I don't know why I started this except that it was involuntary.
The only rational explanation I can think of is that it's an overhaul of lifestyle changes that comes with the sum total of experiences and regrets.
And with me, I think it happens every couple years.
Since my muscle injury the past week, my workout regime has been put on ice for at least three weeks, and for a moment I did rejoice but a few short days later realised that it made me antsy to not work out.
Not working out willingly on a vacation out of laziness and sense of euphoric holiday mood is one thing, but being put out of it when you're in the full swing of things is another, and irks me to not be able to do my usual bit of jumping and lifting.
I'd no idea the bloody thing was so addictive, which is why I took to long walks in order to get some exercise- and usually went out during afternoon or mornings, until a few days ago.. I woke up one morning some minutes before 5:00, put on my sport shoes and left.
It was cold, midnight dark and silent. It was lovely and the icy kick of the mornings was nothing short of rejuvenating.
I loved it. I did, and have been doing that every day since, it's not been that long, but I don't wish I stop.
I don't run nor jog, any activity that might cause sharp movements of shoulders and neck is forbidden, so I simply walk, fast and far.
The best part is when I come home after an hour people are still sleeping, and it gives me time to cook and clean before it's barely 8:00.
I type as the clock ticks close to 11:00 and my day has been long already.
Not just that, I don't feel fatigued nor drained as waking up late made me feel, nor is half my day swamped with chores, because they were done a long time back.
Of course this comes at the expense of nighttime, but then again, nights have been useless to me for a while. They don't pack the zing they once did, or might on rare days..so if this is a new addition to my schedule then I welcome it. Will I continue this after my shoulder heals and I can workout?
Yes, I think so.
As much as I hate waking early, I've realised it's not half as bad.
As alien, abnormal, unusual, even silly as I find waking up early in the mornings, there is no way around it.
I can either stay embedded in my bed like a dead widget or get a move on to get things done that need be done in mornings.
Yes there are chores that need finishing, food that needs cooking, lunch that needs boxing and breakfast that needs fixing, but for all that waking up so early feels a bit savage.
Especially in winters when sun won't rise until it's almost afternoon and the barest hint of a finger outside of warm bedding seems to shrivel into a dried raisin, and yet one has to slide out of their comfort zone to get things done.
This is, the sad way of life and if there ever were a getting around it, I would without the blink of an eyelid circumvent my way, which is why I have been nothing short of surprised when the past few days I've not only willingly gotten out of bed at 5:00 but almost immediately, after a short sip of water, left for a long, long, brisk walk.
Now, one might roll their eyes and say what on earth? As did I the first time, but here's the thing I don't know why I started this except that it was involuntary.
The only rational explanation I can think of is that it's an overhaul of lifestyle changes that comes with the sum total of experiences and regrets.
And with me, I think it happens every couple years.
Since my muscle injury the past week, my workout regime has been put on ice for at least three weeks, and for a moment I did rejoice but a few short days later realised that it made me antsy to not work out.
Not working out willingly on a vacation out of laziness and sense of euphoric holiday mood is one thing, but being put out of it when you're in the full swing of things is another, and irks me to not be able to do my usual bit of jumping and lifting.
I'd no idea the bloody thing was so addictive, which is why I took to long walks in order to get some exercise- and usually went out during afternoon or mornings, until a few days ago.. I woke up one morning some minutes before 5:00, put on my sport shoes and left.
It was cold, midnight dark and silent. It was lovely and the icy kick of the mornings was nothing short of rejuvenating.
I loved it. I did, and have been doing that every day since, it's not been that long, but I don't wish I stop.
I don't run nor jog, any activity that might cause sharp movements of shoulders and neck is forbidden, so I simply walk, fast and far.
The best part is when I come home after an hour people are still sleeping, and it gives me time to cook and clean before it's barely 8:00.
I type as the clock ticks close to 11:00 and my day has been long already.
Not just that, I don't feel fatigued nor drained as waking up late made me feel, nor is half my day swamped with chores, because they were done a long time back.
Of course this comes at the expense of nighttime, but then again, nights have been useless to me for a while. They don't pack the zing they once did, or might on rare days..so if this is a new addition to my schedule then I welcome it. Will I continue this after my shoulder heals and I can workout?
Yes, I think so.
As much as I hate waking early, I've realised it's not half as bad.
Saturday, 25 November 2017
Mistakes
Who me?
Just calling forth the gods of bulimia to shed some kindness on me and help me purge the godforsaken binge I just subjected my body to.
Why?
Because I've been getting incessantly badgered for the past week to make 'chhole bhature' and it came to a tipping point this morning, and I had to cave in and tonight, well, tonight I did the unthinkable, or rather the much needed and did the unneeded.
The thing about this lavish meal is that it's most unmerciful to your body, and the evil little fluffy fried breads of refined dough are degenerately delicious..and not to fawn over me, but my lord, I do know a thing or two about making these blasphemous little devils and so I went about making them for dinner.
Think an edible, nay, gorgeously delectable sponge, think bhature, because that's exactly how they soak up oil.
One could wring them morn to night and you'd still find drops of oil pooling down your elbows.
-and I ate two of them. Not that I couldn't eat more, just that I realised I might pretty much die after another bite, and so wiser decisions prevailed and here I sit, wishing for a good bout of midnight anorexia to assail my body and do my sins right.
Sigh. Now what?
Well, this is the last fried food of the year.
Yessir.
Just calling forth the gods of bulimia to shed some kindness on me and help me purge the godforsaken binge I just subjected my body to.
Why?
Because I've been getting incessantly badgered for the past week to make 'chhole bhature' and it came to a tipping point this morning, and I had to cave in and tonight, well, tonight I did the unthinkable, or rather the much needed and did the unneeded.
The thing about this lavish meal is that it's most unmerciful to your body, and the evil little fluffy fried breads of refined dough are degenerately delicious..and not to fawn over me, but my lord, I do know a thing or two about making these blasphemous little devils and so I went about making them for dinner.
Think an edible, nay, gorgeously delectable sponge, think bhature, because that's exactly how they soak up oil.
One could wring them morn to night and you'd still find drops of oil pooling down your elbows.
-and I ate two of them. Not that I couldn't eat more, just that I realised I might pretty much die after another bite, and so wiser decisions prevailed and here I sit, wishing for a good bout of midnight anorexia to assail my body and do my sins right.
Sigh. Now what?
Well, this is the last fried food of the year.
Yessir.
Friday, 24 November 2017
The originals
I don't know if you're aware but the only real way of eating momos that I know of is with a bowl of clear soup and momo chutney.
The first time I ever ate this delicious piece of soft flour wrapper encasing minced meat was when I was roughly 14 and had gone to watch a movie at 'Chanakya' movie hall as a sort of treat after a sports meet.
Chanakya complex, at that time of life was one of those most popular hangout's one had to be seen at.
There was a rather popular outlet for Nirula's there as well, in my memory it was always full of people and I often badgered my parents to treat me to an HCF. That's what we young ones and apparently cool ones called hot chocolate fudge, one of those mad things I could never get enough of.
It was at that time when a stall, more like a small open restaurant for momos got rather popular.
Now, momo being one of those rare unearthly items no one had ever much heard of let alone see and to me it looked like it had my name written all over.
Seeing my curiosity I was rather benevolently taken to the stall where I'd asked for chicken momos, and at that time in world, in our country, beef wasn't nearly as taboo..for the menu had pork, chicken, fish and beef momos.
After ordering one plate of momo's and being curiously drawn to big baskets being manned by rather dexterous cooks I was presented with the most gorgeously piquant smelling food.
It was a plate of typically classic chicken momos, served with a huge bowl of clear soup that was indeed clear; watery in consistency and adorned with a few flecks of green onions.
What on earth?
I hadn't seen much soups that were as watery, considering all soups in Chinese restaurants were thickened with a slurry of cornstarch, I ventured a taste and was immediately a convert.
The soup in question wasn't spicy, wasn't burgeoning with a hundred flavours, but in fact had a distinctly clean, palette cleansing quality to it, with earthy flavours that I later found out came from cooked pork and chicken bones.
Dear oh dear. The first bite into that soft, steamed momo flesh was a revelation and as a child who was being treated to a night of movie and dinner after a gruelling athletic competition I went on to not only eat another plate of those lovely dumplings but also drank two additional bowls of soup and got another plate packed for my wee brother whom I couldn't wait to share this fabulous delicacy with.
That day hence I made a weekly pilgrimage to Chanakya movie hall, that entire area thriving and alive with the most bizarre foods.. Russian, Mediterranean, Bhutanese.. and it was there that I ate momos of all varieties including fried and maybe died and went to heaven.
They were always always served with their fantastic clear soup and never have I ever had momos without the soup, which is why I felt rather pained at finding bastardised momo stalls crop up all over the city, serving momo's without the soup, in fact they didn't even know that soup was almost mandatory when served with these steamed dumplings.
Dilli Haat was another of those thankfully traditional places that always served clear soup with momo's and their versions were pretty decent too, though not nearly good enough to even come close to ones in Chanakya but still, not bad.
I've not eaten momo's for a while now, and I'm not sure if I even want to, seeing how they've lost the real essence of their creation in steady demise of their own popularity.
Ah, it pains me to see how they're being mass produced out of every second stall and look nothing like their forefathers.
How I long to eat proper momo's with a bowl of soup and red hot chutney.
The first time I ever ate this delicious piece of soft flour wrapper encasing minced meat was when I was roughly 14 and had gone to watch a movie at 'Chanakya' movie hall as a sort of treat after a sports meet.
Chanakya complex, at that time of life was one of those most popular hangout's one had to be seen at.
There was a rather popular outlet for Nirula's there as well, in my memory it was always full of people and I often badgered my parents to treat me to an HCF. That's what we young ones and apparently cool ones called hot chocolate fudge, one of those mad things I could never get enough of.
It was at that time when a stall, more like a small open restaurant for momos got rather popular.
Now, momo being one of those rare unearthly items no one had ever much heard of let alone see and to me it looked like it had my name written all over.
Seeing my curiosity I was rather benevolently taken to the stall where I'd asked for chicken momos, and at that time in world, in our country, beef wasn't nearly as taboo..for the menu had pork, chicken, fish and beef momos.
After ordering one plate of momo's and being curiously drawn to big baskets being manned by rather dexterous cooks I was presented with the most gorgeously piquant smelling food.
It was a plate of typically classic chicken momos, served with a huge bowl of clear soup that was indeed clear; watery in consistency and adorned with a few flecks of green onions.
What on earth?
I hadn't seen much soups that were as watery, considering all soups in Chinese restaurants were thickened with a slurry of cornstarch, I ventured a taste and was immediately a convert.
The soup in question wasn't spicy, wasn't burgeoning with a hundred flavours, but in fact had a distinctly clean, palette cleansing quality to it, with earthy flavours that I later found out came from cooked pork and chicken bones.
Dear oh dear. The first bite into that soft, steamed momo flesh was a revelation and as a child who was being treated to a night of movie and dinner after a gruelling athletic competition I went on to not only eat another plate of those lovely dumplings but also drank two additional bowls of soup and got another plate packed for my wee brother whom I couldn't wait to share this fabulous delicacy with.
That day hence I made a weekly pilgrimage to Chanakya movie hall, that entire area thriving and alive with the most bizarre foods.. Russian, Mediterranean, Bhutanese.. and it was there that I ate momos of all varieties including fried and maybe died and went to heaven.
They were always always served with their fantastic clear soup and never have I ever had momos without the soup, which is why I felt rather pained at finding bastardised momo stalls crop up all over the city, serving momo's without the soup, in fact they didn't even know that soup was almost mandatory when served with these steamed dumplings.
Dilli Haat was another of those thankfully traditional places that always served clear soup with momo's and their versions were pretty decent too, though not nearly good enough to even come close to ones in Chanakya but still, not bad.
I've not eaten momo's for a while now, and I'm not sure if I even want to, seeing how they've lost the real essence of their creation in steady demise of their own popularity.
Ah, it pains me to see how they're being mass produced out of every second stall and look nothing like their forefathers.
How I long to eat proper momo's with a bowl of soup and red hot chutney.
Argh!
No valid reason ever needed for killing your spouse.
It's a Friday which goes on to say a lot, since it's not the weekend yet, but people come home early and what not and absolutely disrupt the tranquility of your daily harmonious goings on.
It was all smooth sailing and serenity which within moments got upended into a blizzard like activity.
Just a while back I was engrossed typing my life out and not a minute later found myself fiddling about to cook something because people are always hungry.
Of course it could be argued that one doesn't have to necessarily get up and start cooking, but experience teaches and brings forth visions of discordant kitchen scenes when people rummaged about for food.
Right, let's get working, but no!! Because wherever you are I shall linger goes the usually norm, because there's nothing better to do right now and when I need complete silence and cooperation I'm aware of a mute audience sitting at the back of my head.
That just won't do, and so, here i sit, dumbly in front of tv, writing this and wondering when can I finish my work.
Sigh.
It's a Friday which goes on to say a lot, since it's not the weekend yet, but people come home early and what not and absolutely disrupt the tranquility of your daily harmonious goings on.
It was all smooth sailing and serenity which within moments got upended into a blizzard like activity.
Just a while back I was engrossed typing my life out and not a minute later found myself fiddling about to cook something because people are always hungry.
Of course it could be argued that one doesn't have to necessarily get up and start cooking, but experience teaches and brings forth visions of discordant kitchen scenes when people rummaged about for food.
Right, let's get working, but no!! Because wherever you are I shall linger goes the usually norm, because there's nothing better to do right now and when I need complete silence and cooperation I'm aware of a mute audience sitting at the back of my head.
That just won't do, and so, here i sit, dumbly in front of tv, writing this and wondering when can I finish my work.
Sigh.
Thursday, 23 November 2017
Doodles
It's illogical, totally ridiculous, stupid even, but I feel like eating a steaming bowl of top ramen noodles right now.
I don't know why this particular craving?
It's been a couple centuries since I ate top ramen but at this hour of boredom and ugh, spicy noodles come to mind.
I had black rice salad for dinner and a tall glass of coconut water. Zen meal of the most insipid kind.
Cravings, and such particular ones too.
I've been toying with the idea of baking a small, one person brownie as well, and I don't wish for these cravings to crest into a midnight bake ache.
Noodles..sobs.
I mean buckwheat noodles are fabulous but they're not what I'd venture to eat right now.
Perhaps if I drink some warm water ..hmm..
I don't know why this particular craving?
It's been a couple centuries since I ate top ramen but at this hour of boredom and ugh, spicy noodles come to mind.
I had black rice salad for dinner and a tall glass of coconut water. Zen meal of the most insipid kind.
Cravings, and such particular ones too.
I've been toying with the idea of baking a small, one person brownie as well, and I don't wish for these cravings to crest into a midnight bake ache.
Noodles..sobs.
I mean buckwheat noodles are fabulous but they're not what I'd venture to eat right now.
Perhaps if I drink some warm water ..hmm..
same same
Youtube has become a black hole of 'what I eat in a day' videos and diets plans and programs.
The only safe space seems to be music subscription channels that throw such fabulous music in your daily feeds that it's difficult to hate on youtube.
That and disaster compilation videos, because everything else is so severely filtered that you can't get contradictory word sideways before getting flagged. If it's not racist, it's offensive and people have lowered their offence benchmark to the depths of hell when ideally it should be uplifted above the heavens.
Political correctness will be the death of us all.
The more people get offended the more you wish to offend them. No one can take a joke and it's time to crack the worst of jokes possible.
The only safe space seems to be music subscription channels that throw such fabulous music in your daily feeds that it's difficult to hate on youtube.
That and disaster compilation videos, because everything else is so severely filtered that you can't get contradictory word sideways before getting flagged. If it's not racist, it's offensive and people have lowered their offence benchmark to the depths of hell when ideally it should be uplifted above the heavens.
Political correctness will be the death of us all.
The more people get offended the more you wish to offend them. No one can take a joke and it's time to crack the worst of jokes possible.
lip me up stick me down
Help me, dear gods. I am a lipstick hoarder.
All it took was a message from Sephora to inform me of new launches in their stores and there I was looking at the nudes and metallics and stains and balms.
I swear it was no more than a few minutes but it's been over half an hour and I've somehow reached the Victoria Beckham Estee Lauder collection staring at golden eyeshadows.
That's when the enchantment suddenly broke and brought me to the real world with a thud and here I am, wondering why I'm not doing what I should be doing right now.
I mean lipsticks. Come on. How many could one possibly have?
I know I can't finish all my liptsicks in this lifetime and yet each time I'm near makeup I end up buying lip colours. Such is the enchantment of makeup.
Maybe it's something to do with the fact that I can't seem to hold myself back when it comes to colours.
Right, back to real world as it is. perhaps some hot chocolate. or maybe even some coffee, or just warm water? I's idiotically confused.
Kitty kitty bang bang
It was around 5 this morning that the cat meowed outside my door, since I'd locked him out of the bedroom so as to catch on a bit of good quality sleep, and like an obedient feline that he sometimes is, he didn't bother me up until his five o clock meow, which sounded a bit distressed.
Launching myself out of the bed was a thing of moment when I heard knocks the sound of hammer banging on a door.
That it was not my door was only a momentary relief because the sounds that no doubt came from swift kicks seemed to reverberate throughout the building.
The fact that it was dead silent, magnified by the unbearable cold that the sounds seemed stark and almost menacing.
The cat appeared to have been terrified by these alien sounds and made a dash for my bed on which he still sleeps.
Now the sounds in questions did emanate from the banging of a door, my neighbour's door and before I could get alarmed a voice which was undoubtedly my neighbours screamed out the name of her son..well, I say scream but she was rather polite if only loud because apparently her son slept indoors while she banged at the door outside at five in the bloody morning.
So many questions.
Like why was she out at that ghastly time leaving her son at home?
Did she leave last night or did she leave early morning?
Perhaps she went for a jog in the middle of the night or at four (gasps) and expected her seven year old to stay up and let her in, the moment she knocked.
Improbable theories or maybe probable. I thought of letting her in, but didn't want her to feel embarrassed. I mean I'd be mighty ashamed if I knew that I'd roused the neighbours with a racket, so I let her be.
I'd decided to invite her in if the situation didn't improve in the next hour or so, but suddenly it was silent and I thought all was well.
A few short hours later I was out and about, making up for my no work out days with long walks (not brisk. The doctor advised me against anything brisk) and saw a gaggle of people outside her door tinkering with the locks.
Apparently a locksmith and maybe some people from the landlords family that rented her the house.
As I'd guessed, my neighbour did look embarrassed at seeing me and tried to subtly back away inside her house, and I pretended to not have seen her either, why make it awkward for someone?
All the commotion has now died down, the locks have changed, I don't know what difference did that make?
Perhaps she didn't have an extra key, or that she forgot to carry her key, or maybe there's only one key.
I don't know, except that this morning started with a bang and a terrified cat.
Launching myself out of the bed was a thing of moment when I heard knocks the sound of hammer banging on a door.
That it was not my door was only a momentary relief because the sounds that no doubt came from swift kicks seemed to reverberate throughout the building.
The fact that it was dead silent, magnified by the unbearable cold that the sounds seemed stark and almost menacing.
The cat appeared to have been terrified by these alien sounds and made a dash for my bed on which he still sleeps.
Now the sounds in questions did emanate from the banging of a door, my neighbour's door and before I could get alarmed a voice which was undoubtedly my neighbours screamed out the name of her son..well, I say scream but she was rather polite if only loud because apparently her son slept indoors while she banged at the door outside at five in the bloody morning.
So many questions.
Like why was she out at that ghastly time leaving her son at home?
Did she leave last night or did she leave early morning?
Perhaps she went for a jog in the middle of the night or at four (gasps) and expected her seven year old to stay up and let her in, the moment she knocked.
Improbable theories or maybe probable. I thought of letting her in, but didn't want her to feel embarrassed. I mean I'd be mighty ashamed if I knew that I'd roused the neighbours with a racket, so I let her be.
I'd decided to invite her in if the situation didn't improve in the next hour or so, but suddenly it was silent and I thought all was well.
A few short hours later I was out and about, making up for my no work out days with long walks (not brisk. The doctor advised me against anything brisk) and saw a gaggle of people outside her door tinkering with the locks.
Apparently a locksmith and maybe some people from the landlords family that rented her the house.
As I'd guessed, my neighbour did look embarrassed at seeing me and tried to subtly back away inside her house, and I pretended to not have seen her either, why make it awkward for someone?
All the commotion has now died down, the locks have changed, I don't know what difference did that make?
Perhaps she didn't have an extra key, or that she forgot to carry her key, or maybe there's only one key.
I don't know, except that this morning started with a bang and a terrified cat.
Wednesday, 22 November 2017
Flush out
What is 'detox water' ?
Is water not detoxing on its own that you've to add a multitude of additional fruits and veggies to make it 'detox' and how exactly does it help lose weight?
YouTube videos of making detox water to lose weight getting millions of views and no one asks them how does it work?
Lemon water is one thing, but it's not detox water, it's just lemon water.
What toxins does this so called detox water rid from your body?
The whole idea of adding fruits to water is so wasteful, not to mention it increases the calorie content of something as zero calorie as water.
What does one do with those weepy wasted fruits anyway?
Does one eat the limp piece of apple that went into detoxing the water and stayed buried in hydrogen depths hoping in vain to detoxify a body that sat drinking Coke Zero on the side?
Gah! This whole idea of sinking fruits in water to lose weight is a sham.
The first thing one needs do to lose any kind of weight is to stop drinking calories and drinking sweetened fruit flavoured water is exactly that.
Just eat the damn fruit, it's more nutritious and drink a glass of water on top. That'll work better.
People are a bunch of gullible fools these days. They'll believe anything playing on a screen; not one would bother to question or analyse the lies they're being fed on a daily basis.
Gah!
I'm pissed for reasons unknown.
Is water not detoxing on its own that you've to add a multitude of additional fruits and veggies to make it 'detox' and how exactly does it help lose weight?
YouTube videos of making detox water to lose weight getting millions of views and no one asks them how does it work?
Lemon water is one thing, but it's not detox water, it's just lemon water.
What toxins does this so called detox water rid from your body?
The whole idea of adding fruits to water is so wasteful, not to mention it increases the calorie content of something as zero calorie as water.
What does one do with those weepy wasted fruits anyway?
Does one eat the limp piece of apple that went into detoxing the water and stayed buried in hydrogen depths hoping in vain to detoxify a body that sat drinking Coke Zero on the side?
Gah! This whole idea of sinking fruits in water to lose weight is a sham.
The first thing one needs do to lose any kind of weight is to stop drinking calories and drinking sweetened fruit flavoured water is exactly that.
Just eat the damn fruit, it's more nutritious and drink a glass of water on top. That'll work better.
People are a bunch of gullible fools these days. They'll believe anything playing on a screen; not one would bother to question or analyse the lies they're being fed on a daily basis.
Gah!
I'm pissed for reasons unknown.
Brrr
Ah, Wednesday.
When in shoal can it
Tuna open sandwich fully loaded with vulgar amounts of melted cheddar on a wholemeal bread the size of a truck, because why not?
Also, I won't be eating anything save boiled air and diet water after this..
Tuesday, 21 November 2017
Never but maybe
How did this happen?
How did I voluntarily buy industrial quantities of club soda and go through them like a starving shark going through a sea of fresh corpses?
I've never had any attachments with club soda. I didn't even like how it tasted, not least because I couldn't accurately figure out the exact taste of club soda.
It's immediate taste usually began as a salty shock quickly dissolving into a bubbly sting, evaporating into a molten battery effervescence.
How does one grow to a taste like that, and I didn't..until recently, that is to say a few months back when I started drinking it with my solitary dinners and before long I was traipsing through supermarket aisles loading my cart with this odd fizz..goes to say how one suddenly develops a taste for something they've never liked, however for all my love and ravings of Japanese food, Natto is the one thing I never never never liked.
It's a staple breakfast meal in Japan and one has to flit about their chopsticks in the bowl with an eager abandon to create something of a visceral slime which is then eaten and relished.
I never found myself growing attached to fermented beans of any kind. Their smell as much as a put off is nearly as scary as its taste, texture and demeanour.
I do however like a Korean condiment made of fermented soybeans; it's rather like a paste, called 'Doenjang' , but that's the extent of my love for fermented beans, because ugh, it's an acquired taste and I'm not dauntless enough.
How did I voluntarily buy industrial quantities of club soda and go through them like a starving shark going through a sea of fresh corpses?
I've never had any attachments with club soda. I didn't even like how it tasted, not least because I couldn't accurately figure out the exact taste of club soda.
It's immediate taste usually began as a salty shock quickly dissolving into a bubbly sting, evaporating into a molten battery effervescence.
How does one grow to a taste like that, and I didn't..until recently, that is to say a few months back when I started drinking it with my solitary dinners and before long I was traipsing through supermarket aisles loading my cart with this odd fizz..goes to say how one suddenly develops a taste for something they've never liked, however for all my love and ravings of Japanese food, Natto is the one thing I never never never liked.
It's a staple breakfast meal in Japan and one has to flit about their chopsticks in the bowl with an eager abandon to create something of a visceral slime which is then eaten and relished.
I never found myself growing attached to fermented beans of any kind. Their smell as much as a put off is nearly as scary as its taste, texture and demeanour.
I do however like a Korean condiment made of fermented soybeans; it's rather like a paste, called 'Doenjang' , but that's the extent of my love for fermented beans, because ugh, it's an acquired taste and I'm not dauntless enough.
Time toccata
Is it easy to change habits especially ones that are comforting and effortless to get addicted to?
Of course we end up falling into habits that are inviting and relax us which is why they're habits in the first place, but as convenient as they are, seemingly so, they sometimes end up being cumbersome, burdensome, even impractical, and as much as you want to rid them, habits being habits are not easily disentangled.
A habit I'd fallen into was waking up early to fix breakfast/pack lunch and go back to sleep again.
The sleep in question was sweeter than a lovers embrace but just like the mentioned embrace it was difficult to break free of it and often I'd oversleep; sometimes not waking up until nine.
How the bed beckoned and how alluringly I let myself get enchanted in its cottony magnetism is easily guessed and as deliciously correct that decision felt at the time I'd always regret it later.
All my chores and activities got pushed to much later and at times when I'd hoped I'd have time to be with myself I realised it was evening already which meant dinner, tv and sleep.
Add to that the fact that I felt like I was immersed in chores all the time, since the hours daily assigned to such designated activities were encroached by my sleep.
Each day I'd decide to do better, or wake up early or put a alarm to sleep for only half an hour but I was kidding myself.
I'd turn off the alarm, justify my second innings of unnecessary sleep and regret or feel guilty after.
This went on for months and day after day I saw my entire day spiraling out of control.
I'd breakfast late, workout late, lunch late and immediately after find myself in the kitchen again preparing dinner.
Finally!! Finally one day I ignored the dulcet charms of my comfy bed and instead of sleeping went about my regular morning routine that on other days used to commence much after eight or nine that now began shortly after 6:30, and would wonders ever cease? I was done with my breakfast- workout- post workout meal by 10:30.
What on earth?
I'd almost forgotten this feeling of being up and about so early and now for the past couple weeks I find myself out of bed at 5:45 with a luxurious amount of time carpeting my entire day.
Of course, there are days when the entire day isn't enough to cope with its drudgeries but I don't necessarily hold that against it.
Yes it could be argued that one can utilise nighttime, but then again, there is only so much one can do at night; moreover I find myself leaning less towards creative activities at night and more towards unwarranted, unnecessary indulgences.
Am I a morning person?
Of course not, but how does one deny the fact that it's far easier to get on with an early morning than with a late night.
Of course we end up falling into habits that are inviting and relax us which is why they're habits in the first place, but as convenient as they are, seemingly so, they sometimes end up being cumbersome, burdensome, even impractical, and as much as you want to rid them, habits being habits are not easily disentangled.
A habit I'd fallen into was waking up early to fix breakfast/pack lunch and go back to sleep again.
The sleep in question was sweeter than a lovers embrace but just like the mentioned embrace it was difficult to break free of it and often I'd oversleep; sometimes not waking up until nine.
How the bed beckoned and how alluringly I let myself get enchanted in its cottony magnetism is easily guessed and as deliciously correct that decision felt at the time I'd always regret it later.
All my chores and activities got pushed to much later and at times when I'd hoped I'd have time to be with myself I realised it was evening already which meant dinner, tv and sleep.
Add to that the fact that I felt like I was immersed in chores all the time, since the hours daily assigned to such designated activities were encroached by my sleep.
Each day I'd decide to do better, or wake up early or put a alarm to sleep for only half an hour but I was kidding myself.
I'd turn off the alarm, justify my second innings of unnecessary sleep and regret or feel guilty after.
This went on for months and day after day I saw my entire day spiraling out of control.
I'd breakfast late, workout late, lunch late and immediately after find myself in the kitchen again preparing dinner.
Finally!! Finally one day I ignored the dulcet charms of my comfy bed and instead of sleeping went about my regular morning routine that on other days used to commence much after eight or nine that now began shortly after 6:30, and would wonders ever cease? I was done with my breakfast- workout- post workout meal by 10:30.
What on earth?
I'd almost forgotten this feeling of being up and about so early and now for the past couple weeks I find myself out of bed at 5:45 with a luxurious amount of time carpeting my entire day.
Of course, there are days when the entire day isn't enough to cope with its drudgeries but I don't necessarily hold that against it.
Yes it could be argued that one can utilise nighttime, but then again, there is only so much one can do at night; moreover I find myself leaning less towards creative activities at night and more towards unwarranted, unnecessary indulgences.
Am I a morning person?
Of course not, but how does one deny the fact that it's far easier to get on with an early morning than with a late night.
obliterating thoughts
This weather has hot chocolate written all over its frosted mien. The need to sip on a steaming mug of cocoa enriched with some vanilla, honey and a splash (just a splash) of foaming hot milk is strong today.
I have given up on pre-mixed hot chocolate packages, preferring to make my own mix to be jeujed up as I please.
Sometimes a sprinkle of cinnamon, sometimes a drop of orange flower extract..as befits my mood, as befits my will.
It was with the single-minded pursuit of dunking my body in a molten concoction of richness that I set about towards the kitchen only to be distracted by a lone plate languishing about in the sink.
A sink that isn't empty and dry is enough to send me twitching into epileptic convulsions and within moments I had the situation under control, except I forgot the reason I'd actually gone to the kitchen.
hmph, I brewed me some hot coffee and it was while foaming a splash of milk that I realized I was supposed to be making hot chocolate.
gah!
And so I sit and sip and sulk.
Truesday
Hello, there Tuesday.
What tidings do you bring?
Come now, don't be so morose, your petulance isn't unusual.
Is it news you come bearing woes and bad weather?
Rains and biting winds of Siberian aether
Why must I always run out of important vegetables today?
and recall a hundred other things that need buying
when it begins to rain
and my umbrella refuses to open
because it suddenly finds time to stay broken
and my movements hampered by grocery bags
I want to cry but I laugh
hard enough to literally gag
because you're Tuesday, my love
disasters and regrets
stick to you like a glove
What tidings do you bring?
Come now, don't be so morose, your petulance isn't unusual.
Is it news you come bearing woes and bad weather?
Rains and biting winds of Siberian aether
Why must I always run out of important vegetables today?
and recall a hundred other things that need buying
when it begins to rain
and my umbrella refuses to open
because it suddenly finds time to stay broken
and my movements hampered by grocery bags
I want to cry but I laugh
hard enough to literally gag
because you're Tuesday, my love
disasters and regrets
stick to you like a glove
Monday, 20 November 2017
dead zzzz
And now I'm dead
As I bid night
and sleep away
In a glacial sarcophagus
only to ignite
tomorrow morning
same old me
Tired wishes
sultry kisses
As I bid night
and sleep away
In a glacial sarcophagus
only to ignite
tomorrow morning
same old me
Tired wishes
sultry kisses
the thing being
You know how it is..you're thinking, making grand plans for your characters, typing away, having a string of epiphanies, some bonus enlightening ideas, scribbling them into a notebook to remember them during uninspired times, hitting that word count almost where you're almost done for the day. The key word being Almost, because right at that moment a phone call deters your reverie and for an hour you're lost in that call because, well, it's from home, and full of juicy tidbits, funny comments, gossipy updates and magnificent future ideas and lo, it's time to cook dinner and you're still not done with whatever you were writing; your characters are sitting in an autopsy room and you're totally derailed.
Excellent!
What do you do then?
Well, I prepared my dinner and now I'm off to meet someone for a short short while, about 10 minutes if at that and after that a bit of eating and back to writing and finishing off all that's been bubbling because it's gotta go it today for gods sake it does.
Excellent!
What do you do then?
Well, I prepared my dinner and now I'm off to meet someone for a short short while, about 10 minutes if at that and after that a bit of eating and back to writing and finishing off all that's been bubbling because it's gotta go it today for gods sake it does.
win win winter sob
If my house were a warren it'd probably be Omtose Phellack.
I did, rather sagaciously turn on the radiator yesterday and it does a beautiful job keeping the living room toasty warm, and for various reasons of incidental conveniences I keep the radiator in that particular area because it's the living room and something of a heart of the home; like a hive central so to say..but where does it leave the other rooms?
Well, the other rooms are left in a gellid confusion of frosty ambience.
One could argue that the air conditioner in warm blower setting can be turned on, if matters are that extreme, and there will come a time when this season will lead to that eventuality.. but for now turning on room heaters, as tempting as it is, will in fact be a bit excessive, superfluous even and for those reason alone I'm only toying with the remote control.
The house is a delicious 15ºc and lit rather frugally by incoming sunlight.
In theory, today could be called mildly sunny, if sunlight were sieving itself through a hundred layers of tough fabric then yes, it's sunny today.
Yes, it's the winters. It's a new season, what do you expect?
That's not my gripe, I'm alright with the cold, it's just that I like talking about it and maybe complain a wee bit, I've no issues with the cold; what I do wish to hate on about this weather is Its ability to silently, assuredly murder my herbs.
Just last week my basil crumpled under the crisp blast of intense cold, and now my Thai basil is turning all sorts of frail.
I have brought my plants inside the house, mounted them on a special structure that keeps them close to the window pane so as to let them eat as much sunlight or whatever excuse for sunlight we get and yes, I've kept them in the living room so that they stay warm, but to no avail.
they're slowly perishing and my heart is breaking.
If this basil dies too then I'm left with a rosemary plant apart from mint and oregano and I've even constructed a makeshift greenhouse in the balcony for them and that's probably my only last hope.
I don't know if I should weep or curse freely or perhaps both?
Saturday, 18 November 2017
The long and long of it. Irony, agony
Where do I begin?
Perhaps from that moment of nostalgia or déjà vu..
Two years back, in the exact same time frame I was suffering from a serious health issue and my sickness had been exacerbated by a violent back/neck problem for which I underwent some physiotherapy and had to give up on drawing for almost six months.
It was one of those life altering moments, the whole package of sickness that made me alter my lifestyle and bring about radical changes.
The difference those changes brought about to my life, health and overall well being were startlingly positive.
Some happened gradually and some with immediate affect, so much so that I rarely fell sick the last couple years, my body functioning on six cylinders, my health in the absolute pink and what not..
Except..
Except the past two weeks I had begun experiencing some similar symptoms in regards to my back.
I'd wake up with a quivering ache someplace I couldn't quite put my finger on, somewhere in my neck/ shoulder region and without giving it much consideration go about my day as planned—workouts, chores, life and the like.
Each morning I'd wake with a phantom pain of stinging affliction and not once bother about it. This ache sometimes crawled up my spine and into my skull to give me resounding headaches and I still didn't think it too serious.
In fact, and I laughingly type this, I increased my upper body workouts to counter that trouble, thinking foolishly that perhaps I wasn't getting enough exercises in my rhomboids.
I'd upped my weights for upper body strength training and included a good many push ups and triceps dips each workout routine to counter my dull morning back aches, and here's the interesting thing–I felt much better right after my workouts, and that was one of the reasons why I upped the strenuous quotient making it more vigorous than last to make myself feel better.
I'd even posted about my workout routine and most of it was upper body and core and well..sometime during bakasana or crow pose yesterday I felt something almost snap in my right neck- shoulder area.
It wasn't enough to alarm me and after a cool down and stretch I was on with the day and didn't give much thought to it.
This morning around 5:00am when the cat woke me up to be fed, I realised I couldn't life my right side off the bed.
The area between my neck and shoulder was in such excruciating pain that I'd almost screamed.
To tell you that I was alarmed would be an understatement of massive proportions.
I couldn't get up, couldn't toss and couldn't go back to sleep.
Ooh the pain, the pain, oh the pain.
I kept lying in that position and maybe even slept and by the time it was morning proper I knew I'd have to go for a check-up because this wasn't those normal daily aches I'd been getting.
This seemed serious, this seemed like trouble. My shoulder was a study in swelling.
I tried a bit of stretching and moving about to make it better just like I'd been doing the past week and nope, my body wouldn't comply and an hour later I was sitting at the doctors.
Apparently I have injured my muscle.
Those initial aches were a small warning to give my body a rest for some time but instead of complying, I did the exact opposite and fatigued it so hard that my muscle gave up under the strain.
The doctor explained how sometimes muscles bleed under duress and that the wear and tear from a lot of workout puts too much strain on them and that If I had rested when I felt small pains it wouldn't have come to this, but of course I deliberately went ahead and put myself in harms way to the point that now I cannot work out for at least three weeks.
'You should have only stuck to Pilates when you felt the pain' she said.
Hmm..too late for that I thought because now I can't even do that.
In fact I can't do anything, no strong motions with my neck, no picking anything heavy, no pushing heavy objects or putting any kind of strain that might stress my neck and back.
I realised my fault when the first question the doctor asked me was if I carried any heavy backpack off late, or if I carried a heavy sling bag.
I've been prescribed medicines, balms and icy cold ointments..and I have been sulking since morning, hating on this situation. Annoyed with the ache and cursing this month that ends up making things difficult for me.
I didn't fee like talking or writing or doing anything remotely cheerful.
Something of a wallowing in pain to make it worse, swimming in self pity and resentment at my own foolish mistakes.
When will I learn?
Why did I make it all the more worse for myself?
What's wrong with me?
Why didn't my inner voice say something?
now look what I've done.
I'm angry, I'm in pain and my neck hurts like heartbreak.
Yes I'm fine, of course I am..if by fine one means not dying then indeed I'm fine.
Sobs..hearts..
Perhaps from that moment of nostalgia or déjà vu..
Two years back, in the exact same time frame I was suffering from a serious health issue and my sickness had been exacerbated by a violent back/neck problem for which I underwent some physiotherapy and had to give up on drawing for almost six months.
It was one of those life altering moments, the whole package of sickness that made me alter my lifestyle and bring about radical changes.
The difference those changes brought about to my life, health and overall well being were startlingly positive.
Some happened gradually and some with immediate affect, so much so that I rarely fell sick the last couple years, my body functioning on six cylinders, my health in the absolute pink and what not..
Except..
Except the past two weeks I had begun experiencing some similar symptoms in regards to my back.
I'd wake up with a quivering ache someplace I couldn't quite put my finger on, somewhere in my neck/ shoulder region and without giving it much consideration go about my day as planned—workouts, chores, life and the like.
Each morning I'd wake with a phantom pain of stinging affliction and not once bother about it. This ache sometimes crawled up my spine and into my skull to give me resounding headaches and I still didn't think it too serious.
In fact, and I laughingly type this, I increased my upper body workouts to counter that trouble, thinking foolishly that perhaps I wasn't getting enough exercises in my rhomboids.
I'd upped my weights for upper body strength training and included a good many push ups and triceps dips each workout routine to counter my dull morning back aches, and here's the interesting thing–I felt much better right after my workouts, and that was one of the reasons why I upped the strenuous quotient making it more vigorous than last to make myself feel better.
I'd even posted about my workout routine and most of it was upper body and core and well..sometime during bakasana or crow pose yesterday I felt something almost snap in my right neck- shoulder area.
It wasn't enough to alarm me and after a cool down and stretch I was on with the day and didn't give much thought to it.
This morning around 5:00am when the cat woke me up to be fed, I realised I couldn't life my right side off the bed.
The area between my neck and shoulder was in such excruciating pain that I'd almost screamed.
To tell you that I was alarmed would be an understatement of massive proportions.
I couldn't get up, couldn't toss and couldn't go back to sleep.
Ooh the pain, the pain, oh the pain.
I kept lying in that position and maybe even slept and by the time it was morning proper I knew I'd have to go for a check-up because this wasn't those normal daily aches I'd been getting.
This seemed serious, this seemed like trouble. My shoulder was a study in swelling.
I tried a bit of stretching and moving about to make it better just like I'd been doing the past week and nope, my body wouldn't comply and an hour later I was sitting at the doctors.
Apparently I have injured my muscle.
Those initial aches were a small warning to give my body a rest for some time but instead of complying, I did the exact opposite and fatigued it so hard that my muscle gave up under the strain.
The doctor explained how sometimes muscles bleed under duress and that the wear and tear from a lot of workout puts too much strain on them and that If I had rested when I felt small pains it wouldn't have come to this, but of course I deliberately went ahead and put myself in harms way to the point that now I cannot work out for at least three weeks.
'You should have only stuck to Pilates when you felt the pain' she said.
Hmm..too late for that I thought because now I can't even do that.
In fact I can't do anything, no strong motions with my neck, no picking anything heavy, no pushing heavy objects or putting any kind of strain that might stress my neck and back.
I realised my fault when the first question the doctor asked me was if I carried any heavy backpack off late, or if I carried a heavy sling bag.
I've been prescribed medicines, balms and icy cold ointments..and I have been sulking since morning, hating on this situation. Annoyed with the ache and cursing this month that ends up making things difficult for me.
I didn't fee like talking or writing or doing anything remotely cheerful.
Something of a wallowing in pain to make it worse, swimming in self pity and resentment at my own foolish mistakes.
When will I learn?
Why did I make it all the more worse for myself?
What's wrong with me?
Why didn't my inner voice say something?
now look what I've done.
I'm angry, I'm in pain and my neck hurts like heartbreak.
Yes I'm fine, of course I am..if by fine one means not dying then indeed I'm fine.
Sobs..hearts..
Friday, 17 November 2017
Night uh!
when the world sleeps tight
I sit by a light in my room
one that fizzles
and dully flitters
scattered in a thousand moons
A hundred kisses
a million misses
a smile to touch your cheeks
to fill in for the rouge
scenery
Now it's raining, there's a storm.
World painted with swaying trees
background score of whispering breeze
a solo rendition of soft trickle
of water dripping down awnings
Onto saturated stones
in a splash
now that they're done sipping
the world is drenched
this life is slipping
on slippery rocks
green moss, populated by snails
or tetanus shots
a walk on rusted nails
moisture you see
it seeps in places
except where you want
but caution
when you want a bit of dew
a little slosh
beware of the floods
where you might drown
World painted with swaying trees
background score of whispering breeze
a solo rendition of soft trickle
of water dripping down awnings
Onto saturated stones
in a splash
now that they're done sipping
the world is drenched
this life is slipping
on slippery rocks
green moss, populated by snails
or tetanus shots
a walk on rusted nails
moisture you see
it seeps in places
except where you want
but caution
when you want a bit of dew
a little slosh
beware of the floods
where you might drown
Online litter
I sit staring at packages a few feet away from me.
Of their arrival I wasn't even aware until this evening, when the rain came down plastering my senses with water and night fell shortly after afternoon, when I ventured a small trek outside of my house, just towards the entrance to light up candles that mark the entry, to make it look that bit warm, a little pleasing and disseminate subtle scents of raspberry vanilla, for they are the flavours of my tea lights and candles that stand a flickering gold, moving in tides to a flutter of life that is the air percolating through windows in short gasps.
Ah, but the packages, did I mention I found four packets lying unceremoniously outside of my door, on the welcome mat, sprawled like forgotten notes.
No bell was rung, no one knocked, the packages just left for whenever one wishes to collect, undisturbed and bored.
Now they're inside and I sit staring at them, wondering what they are.
Did I order for them in a fit of aimless gratification from online bazaar?
Should I open them and get disappointed or must I let the mystery build and intrigue my senses?
Of their arrival I wasn't even aware until this evening, when the rain came down plastering my senses with water and night fell shortly after afternoon, when I ventured a small trek outside of my house, just towards the entrance to light up candles that mark the entry, to make it look that bit warm, a little pleasing and disseminate subtle scents of raspberry vanilla, for they are the flavours of my tea lights and candles that stand a flickering gold, moving in tides to a flutter of life that is the air percolating through windows in short gasps.
Ah, but the packages, did I mention I found four packets lying unceremoniously outside of my door, on the welcome mat, sprawled like forgotten notes.
No bell was rung, no one knocked, the packages just left for whenever one wishes to collect, undisturbed and bored.
Now they're inside and I sit staring at them, wondering what they are.
Did I order for them in a fit of aimless gratification from online bazaar?
Should I open them and get disappointed or must I let the mystery build and intrigue my senses?
Edibles
Mushroom and spinach egg scramble with a huge serving of spiced potatoes, painted with sriracha for that afternoon kick.
Kill mornings
That time of the day when I check my body for sore spots and decide what sort of workout would I like to kill myself with today.
I like that I've regained my love for strength training but at the cost of my beloved Pilates and so Pilates it shall be this lovely Friday.
Perhaps I'll combine it with some upper body and abs to get maximal body workout without weights and without too much jumping about.
Well, not exactly low intensity but definitely not any HIIT or intensive cardio.
I've added HIIt to most of my workouts and it tends to get exhausting, even though I see the immediate changes it brings about in overall body and to this day I'm amazed how constantly my body changes.
I've been talking about losing that extra bit of fat that perhaps only I feel but I know it exists and High intensity workout is really helping me target those areas but it's not something I'm willing to do every day.
I love changing things up to increase my stamina, functionality and endurance but I also like the wellness part of exercising that comes with some yoga workout which I'm trying to include in my daily plans but not too successfully.
I think I'll make a grueling plan for today with lots of varied pushups like single leg, traveler etc, crunches, toe taps, single leg raises, bridges, planks and a whole lot of intensive Pilates to get my legs screaming because weekend is upon us, hovering like a devilish halo—there isn't much in the way of workout I get during these two days, add to that a bit of unnecessary binging that is the highlight of weekends.
So yeah, that's my suicide ritual for today.
Ok. Here we go.
I like that I've regained my love for strength training but at the cost of my beloved Pilates and so Pilates it shall be this lovely Friday.
Perhaps I'll combine it with some upper body and abs to get maximal body workout without weights and without too much jumping about.
Well, not exactly low intensity but definitely not any HIIT or intensive cardio.
I've added HIIt to most of my workouts and it tends to get exhausting, even though I see the immediate changes it brings about in overall body and to this day I'm amazed how constantly my body changes.
I've been talking about losing that extra bit of fat that perhaps only I feel but I know it exists and High intensity workout is really helping me target those areas but it's not something I'm willing to do every day.
I love changing things up to increase my stamina, functionality and endurance but I also like the wellness part of exercising that comes with some yoga workout which I'm trying to include in my daily plans but not too successfully.
I think I'll make a grueling plan for today with lots of varied pushups like single leg, traveler etc, crunches, toe taps, single leg raises, bridges, planks and a whole lot of intensive Pilates to get my legs screaming because weekend is upon us, hovering like a devilish halo—there isn't much in the way of workout I get during these two days, add to that a bit of unnecessary binging that is the highlight of weekends.
So yeah, that's my suicide ritual for today.
Ok. Here we go.
Thursday, 16 November 2017
Midnight moans
What are Thursday's if not spent fussing over people who have fallen sick and running about to do their smallest chores, because, well, they're sick don't you know, and that I've been on my toes clocking almost 20,000 steps being about business not just my own but others as well is quite something.
I'm tired oh am I tired.
What is it about people getting oddly cranky and bratty during their off days? Ah, I crib..but then this is the only place Where I can and I do.
I'd just enough time to make a few changes to my story and hit publish, and yes there's a reason for a Sunday. Dark deeds on weekends is especially fun when people are few and witnesses none. Hah.
I'd scribbled this idea in my diary a few months back and kept making little notes around it when finally I thought this needs become a story and one that's a bit like a layered cake, for what am I if not in love with all things complicated, but as it is with stories, they starts taking wings and flying off into little nooks and corners once you start typing and usually for the better..and well, many thanks for the vote of confidence..I can always count on you to ignite my prose and enchant my verse.
Am I going to sleep now?
Yes, and make a mental menu for tomorrow morning which is rather a relaxing brain activity, because that's what usually induces sleep into my system.
It's been raining past couple of days and just stepping out for a short while made me realize how cozy my home is even though I keep complaining it's cold inside.
Is it Friday already tomorrow? That was rather quick I'd say. I don't know if weekends are a welcoming respite or a bothersome torment because it's usually weekends that I'm at a loss for any time to myself and allow me to be selfish here for I love spending time with moi..and an all important wordspace for company that I constantly visit.
Night is here and it beckons rather weakly I must say, but I need to pursue it sometimes, especially when my day has been long and intends to begin before the sun preens.
Sometimes I wished I napped, but that's not going to happen is it?
Hearts abundant.
I'm tired oh am I tired.
What is it about people getting oddly cranky and bratty during their off days? Ah, I crib..but then this is the only place Where I can and I do.
I'd just enough time to make a few changes to my story and hit publish, and yes there's a reason for a Sunday. Dark deeds on weekends is especially fun when people are few and witnesses none. Hah.
I'd scribbled this idea in my diary a few months back and kept making little notes around it when finally I thought this needs become a story and one that's a bit like a layered cake, for what am I if not in love with all things complicated, but as it is with stories, they starts taking wings and flying off into little nooks and corners once you start typing and usually for the better..and well, many thanks for the vote of confidence..I can always count on you to ignite my prose and enchant my verse.
Am I going to sleep now?
Yes, and make a mental menu for tomorrow morning which is rather a relaxing brain activity, because that's what usually induces sleep into my system.
It's been raining past couple of days and just stepping out for a short while made me realize how cozy my home is even though I keep complaining it's cold inside.
Is it Friday already tomorrow? That was rather quick I'd say. I don't know if weekends are a welcoming respite or a bothersome torment because it's usually weekends that I'm at a loss for any time to myself and allow me to be selfish here for I love spending time with moi..and an all important wordspace for company that I constantly visit.
Night is here and it beckons rather weakly I must say, but I need to pursue it sometimes, especially when my day has been long and intends to begin before the sun preens.
Sometimes I wished I napped, but that's not going to happen is it?
Hearts abundant.
Wednesday, 15 November 2017
Okok
Just realized a post from afternoon got sent now. Wow.
Huh!
What am I doing?
Binge watching Mindhunter, cuz serial killers and what not.
Huh!
What am I doing?
Binge watching Mindhunter, cuz serial killers and what not.
Edible fuck
Nutrition, nourishment, nurture in one meal.
Post workout plate of Korean inspired tofu stew and rice
˚˚
And so I sit typing away only to have a barrage of phone calls disturbing my flow and lo, I've no idea what I was up to.
Muttering unintelligible curses, flinging wrists in the air, poking holes at the sky I get back to doing what I thought I was supposed to, but now I'm distracted and hopelessly annoyed.
An anxious pang of reverberation in my head for reasons I can only wonder why.
Muttering unintelligible curses, flinging wrists in the air, poking holes at the sky I get back to doing what I thought I was supposed to, but now I'm distracted and hopelessly annoyed.
An anxious pang of reverberation in my head for reasons I can only wonder why.
Breathe
It's a study in masochism.
If the results weren't so bloody addictive I wouldn't have touched weights with as much as a glance, but the truth of the matter is no matter how sore and dead you feel after, there's always this feeling of overwhelming joyous satisfaction to have not only finished something as grueling but also a consciously robust sensation coursing through your body.
Your spine feels like a rubber band and the body an elasticized version of goodness.
Of course you don't turn into a god or goddess, but just a better, fitter version of yourself and that's all we needs strive for..for everything else is arbitrary.
Tuesday, 14 November 2017
Hearty
Is there anything ever better than 'little hearts'?
Those little bite size crunchy bits of puff pastry hearts that manage to accomplish the perfect balance of sweet and savory with such seamless quintessence that even after all this time they've lost none of their charm.
Easily binged on and absolutely classic in their taste and crispy layers, however one doesn't find them everywhere.
I happened to eat a couple packets while I was back home at my parents and it had my heart in a bunch because I never thought I'd ever see them again.
I bought a couple packets, nay, I bought a dozen and grazed through them with such abandoned merriment that of guilt I had not a shadow.
Now I pine for little hearts as I cook dinner.
I'll begin posting the story tomorrow onwards and perhaps try and finish it in this week alone.
I wouldn't call it complicated but I think just like little hearts it'll have many a few crunchy layers of sweet and savory. I hope.
Those little bite size crunchy bits of puff pastry hearts that manage to accomplish the perfect balance of sweet and savory with such seamless quintessence that even after all this time they've lost none of their charm.
Easily binged on and absolutely classic in their taste and crispy layers, however one doesn't find them everywhere.
I happened to eat a couple packets while I was back home at my parents and it had my heart in a bunch because I never thought I'd ever see them again.
I bought a couple packets, nay, I bought a dozen and grazed through them with such abandoned merriment that of guilt I had not a shadow.
Now I pine for little hearts as I cook dinner.
I'll begin posting the story tomorrow onwards and perhaps try and finish it in this week alone.
I wouldn't call it complicated but I think just like little hearts it'll have many a few crunchy layers of sweet and savory. I hope.
q's
Who me?
oh just sketching out a story outline. Maybe a few parts long.
A story for now and once that's done, I'm finishing my pending food blogs, cuz it's been a long while and I'm beginning to feel guilty.
But all in good time, and after that a bit of drawing.
That's probably only going to happen next year now.
hah.
talking of wordage..tell me..how fares you?
read anything new? (winks) by new I mean mine. hah..
hearts
oh just sketching out a story outline. Maybe a few parts long.
A story for now and once that's done, I'm finishing my pending food blogs, cuz it's been a long while and I'm beginning to feel guilty.
But all in good time, and after that a bit of drawing.
That's probably only going to happen next year now.
hah.
talking of wordage..tell me..how fares you?
read anything new? (winks) by new I mean mine. hah..
hearts
¿
And Tuesdays bring forth an insipid pensiveness of befuddled emotions wracked with an ever growing hatred for nothing in particular; just one of those days when you could let your inner serial killer unleash expecting it to wreak havoc only to know it likes arranging daisies and baking cookies..so much for all the pent-up malice spreading in tributaries of malevolent displeasures which sadly lack a converging point of contempt, and all the venom fizzles out in wisps of directionless smoke.
One of those days when you can't decide whether you want to a poison loved one out of sheer irritation of loving someone or slash your wrists out of the sheer displeasure of seeing wrists.
One of those days when you can't decide whether you want to a poison loved one out of sheer irritation of loving someone or slash your wrists out of the sheer displeasure of seeing wrists.
Cat o nine
side eyes and weary glances
like I done you wrong
when I didn't feed you for the hundredth time in a day
I did you wrong
when you weren't petted as I slept all night
who sleeps at night? Right?
that's what you'd say
But my darling, darling cat
you could be wrong
I utter these words with silent trepidation
for you might get upset
and upturn your bowl of water
or scratch at my couch
and my beautifully white bleached cushion covers
there's no pleasing you
I did you wrong
when I opened the door to let guests in
that you don't like visitors
is no secret
yet you sit amidst all
frowning a deep displeasure
a grimace of the gods
I did you wrong
When I didn't let you out as it rained
and still more wrong
when I did let you out and you got wet
ah, I see
It's all my mistake
the providence has seen to it
that I abide by your purr pleasures
and so I do
Your bowl is clean and water fresh
and as you sleep
on my freshly cleaned duvet
I do nothing save silently tread around you
lest you wake up
and demand more food
Good morning
The kind of mornings that beg a bit of sunlight. Blanketed still in last night's debris, concealed in shadows that refuse to let go.
Swimming in moonless gloom, this morning is most beguiling. So extraordinary dark in identity today, it'd almost be ashamed to be known as a new day.
Swimming in moonless gloom, this morning is most beguiling. So extraordinary dark in identity today, it'd almost be ashamed to be known as a new day.
Monday, 13 November 2017
≠
What I wouldn't do to have you rupture the calm of my primrose oceanic dreams, with a moody purple blister of a lustful love bite.
time out
No matter how long the day or how early you begin living it, time in its relentless habit of pruning, fleeces away whatever few seconds one might have extended their day with.
Swift moments pickled in diurnal flashes of hourly vinegar to be used at a later date, alas they rot as the day ends; the tick that tocks to shorn everything into a magical 24-hour weave, it promised ever since the big bang.
Swift moments pickled in diurnal flashes of hourly vinegar to be used at a later date, alas they rot as the day ends; the tick that tocks to shorn everything into a magical 24-hour weave, it promised ever since the big bang.
Lunch love
Stir fried bowl of buckwheat noodles cooked with kale and mushrooms topped with soy soused tofu.
Mmmmunday
Oh, ah!
Monday morning. In full shroud and death veil.
It's not you I despise, oh no, don't get me wrong. You're no Tuesday. There's a bit of residual heat of weekends still left lingering in your wake and that alone would suffice, what I dislike about you darling Monday are the banal connotations you represent.
It's the restarting of a week long grind, granted it's just five days but the schedule that's affixed to this whole charade like a clockwork is most displeasing don't you know.
Waking up before the sun is hardship itself.
Do excuse my maudlin complaints but as somnolent as one is at a time when some loved ones go to sleep, it's raw torture to stick out as much as a nail outside of a sultry scorch as displayed by my faithful duvet and yet one must, I must, not only let myself out but plunge wholeheartedly into chores.
Ah Monday, must thou be such a heartless wench?
Do you feel the hurt I suffer as you sink your frozen fingers inside my chest and pluck at my heart strings, making me jump in a momentarily flash of monumental joy before wrenching it out and squeezing it to an icicle.
Ah Monday, don't I know that you then proceed to affix that lump of icy mass back into my chest, mercilessly sticking it on a hinge?
Ah Monday, must you make everything about you? Do you know how often I realize the pining is strong, the misses stronger.
Monday morning. In full shroud and death veil.
It's not you I despise, oh no, don't get me wrong. You're no Tuesday. There's a bit of residual heat of weekends still left lingering in your wake and that alone would suffice, what I dislike about you darling Monday are the banal connotations you represent.
It's the restarting of a week long grind, granted it's just five days but the schedule that's affixed to this whole charade like a clockwork is most displeasing don't you know.
Waking up before the sun is hardship itself.
Do excuse my maudlin complaints but as somnolent as one is at a time when some loved ones go to sleep, it's raw torture to stick out as much as a nail outside of a sultry scorch as displayed by my faithful duvet and yet one must, I must, not only let myself out but plunge wholeheartedly into chores.
Ah Monday, must thou be such a heartless wench?
Do you feel the hurt I suffer as you sink your frozen fingers inside my chest and pluck at my heart strings, making me jump in a momentarily flash of monumental joy before wrenching it out and squeezing it to an icicle.
Ah Monday, don't I know that you then proceed to affix that lump of icy mass back into my chest, mercilessly sticking it on a hinge?
Ah Monday, must you make everything about you? Do you know how often I realize the pining is strong, the misses stronger.
Friday, 10 November 2017
Pancook
There isn't much of pancake making ever about in my house. It's not the kind of taste I found myself growing attached to, however I have made a good many pancakes in my life a lot of which have attributed to many a weight gains for which I've often been rebuked and sweetly chided because the pancakes I make and there's a procedure which I've perfected over time that enables the most deliciously fluffy, thick and spongy pancakes that are oh so delicious .
So whatever batter you make for pancakes, it's best made a night before and kept in the fridge. I don't know how it is but the baking powder does something magical when kept overnight and I used to add a lazy gloop of chocolate syrup or caramel syrup along with cinnamon to the batter and also a bit of melted butter. Just a smudge but it made all the difference.
If you try any of these tips or tricks, do let me know.
A very happy many more pancakes to you, my dahling.
So whatever batter you make for pancakes, it's best made a night before and kept in the fridge. I don't know how it is but the baking powder does something magical when kept overnight and I used to add a lazy gloop of chocolate syrup or caramel syrup along with cinnamon to the batter and also a bit of melted butter. Just a smudge but it made all the difference.
If you try any of these tips or tricks, do let me know.
A very happy many more pancakes to you, my dahling.
cat mews
The cat just got sick all over my rug.
No food for him today.
The devil overeats and eats and barfs it all out.
This changing weather is hard on all of us.
No food for him today.
The devil overeats and eats and barfs it all out.
This changing weather is hard on all of us.
rrrrandoms
It's double 11 starting tonight 11/11..almost another Chinese festival and I have no mind to buy anything at all.
Well, maybe some nice condiments, perhaps some exotic spices, I've been looking for a particular kind of pepper., viz Turkish Aleppo pepper and Korean red pepper flakes. Not that I need double 11 to buy them, it's just that I've a reason to shop online then, something I steer clear of...hmmph maybe some makeup?
Another favourite brand that's packed itself from India is Vichy. I mean why?
I've been trolling Chinese Vichy tmall for a particular cream and guess what they don't have it here. Why? because maybe, just maybe no one suffers from avid dry skin like mine.
I've just got to troll harder, or just go to their store and demand my Aqua Thermale
Talking of dry skin, does anyone have it as bad?
It's like my skin is parched, ready to drink whatever is applied on it.
Embalming though would be the correct word for that is what I do.
Would you believe it if I told you that I literally scoop out petroleum jelly using three fingers and rub it on my face? No, seriously that's what I do. No one believes it but I have no other course of action to take.
A layer of coconut, rosehip oil and a few moments after that to lock in their moisture petroleum jelly. aka vaseline. My ultimate saviour.
I can't count the number of times I've been commented on my glowing healthy hydrated skin and even though it's no secret, no one wants to believe it.
Well, maybe some nice condiments, perhaps some exotic spices, I've been looking for a particular kind of pepper., viz Turkish Aleppo pepper and Korean red pepper flakes. Not that I need double 11 to buy them, it's just that I've a reason to shop online then, something I steer clear of...hmmph maybe some makeup?
Another favourite brand that's packed itself from India is Vichy. I mean why?
I've been trolling Chinese Vichy tmall for a particular cream and guess what they don't have it here. Why? because maybe, just maybe no one suffers from avid dry skin like mine.
I've just got to troll harder, or just go to their store and demand my Aqua Thermale
Talking of dry skin, does anyone have it as bad?
It's like my skin is parched, ready to drink whatever is applied on it.
Embalming though would be the correct word for that is what I do.
Would you believe it if I told you that I literally scoop out petroleum jelly using three fingers and rub it on my face? No, seriously that's what I do. No one believes it but I have no other course of action to take.
A layer of coconut, rosehip oil and a few moments after that to lock in their moisture petroleum jelly. aka vaseline. My ultimate saviour.
I can't count the number of times I've been commented on my glowing healthy hydrated skin and even though it's no secret, no one wants to believe it.
blah
Now now Friday must you wreck me so. For what reasons do I feel so stupidly annoyed?
Something gnawing on the inside, making me sore and hurt and silently angry.
I could let loose a machete of words and make it worse, for what does anything have the ability to sting as much as words, and yet that's all they are.
Simple hateful words, meaningless in heart, spouted pointlessly with an intention to hurt yet how pointedly malicious in their unintentional squander.
Something gnawing on the inside, making me sore and hurt and silently angry.
I could let loose a machete of words and make it worse, for what does anything have the ability to sting as much as words, and yet that's all they are.
Simple hateful words, meaningless in heart, spouted pointlessly with an intention to hurt yet how pointedly malicious in their unintentional squander.
Mornings
This is the first and probably the last time I'll have a picture of food items beside my bed.
Tea in bed is my idea of heaven and anything crumbly food wise is where hell begins and yet, after my ritualistic downing of warm lemon water I sit contemplating sipping tea eating a small breakfast.
A pre workout snack if you please.
Of course I ate it standing away from the bed. I mean how does one sit in bed and eat? a sanctified arena of sleep..but then again we are allowed to be a bit sanctimonious every once in a while.
Thursday, 9 November 2017
Arghh
I sleep with a morose mood, a heavy heart..for my phone that I've lived and loved is experiencing glitches that makes it shut down involuntarily and now I'm almost compelled to use the new phone that I haven't even bothered unboxing.
I don't want to use it, I didn't even want it. It was almost shoved on me without me asking or wanting it.
I do not like these kind of gifts or surprises.
I like what I like when I like when I need and this phone came to me at a time when I didn't ask for it, didn't want it, didn't need it.
I'm needlessly angry and pissed for reasons I can't even justify but only know to be true in my heart.
I don't want to use it, I didn't even want it. It was almost shoved on me without me asking or wanting it.
I do not like these kind of gifts or surprises.
I like what I like when I like when I need and this phone came to me at a time when I didn't ask for it, didn't want it, didn't need it.
I'm needlessly angry and pissed for reasons I can't even justify but only know to be true in my heart.
Teatotalling
There are times, I'm loathe to admit, when I cave into a random cup of tea at a random time.
It's not needed, of course not. The same kind of sensations can be derived by a cup of hot water but desires are often not easily sated by water alone and a beautiful cup of tea, a lovely orange pekoe superior Ceylon blend in my case is just what one often needs.
That I have sweetened it with a glooping ooze of Amber honey is no secret, and that I enjoy it in all its scalding warmth as it glides down ever so self-assuredly in its refined grace of polished smoothness I feel just that bit uncomplicated.
The fact that it infuses my insides with a bronzed glow while warming my hands through ceramic heat is just another added advantage.
It's not needed, of course not. The same kind of sensations can be derived by a cup of hot water but desires are often not easily sated by water alone and a beautiful cup of tea, a lovely orange pekoe superior Ceylon blend in my case is just what one often needs.
That I have sweetened it with a glooping ooze of Amber honey is no secret, and that I enjoy it in all its scalding warmth as it glides down ever so self-assuredly in its refined grace of polished smoothness I feel just that bit uncomplicated.
The fact that it infuses my insides with a bronzed glow while warming my hands through ceramic heat is just another added advantage.
Meal meh
This looks meager, but there are two of these along with a tall glass of cool cool coconut water.
Misses
There are words flung about in idle conversations, sometimes contaminating pages and befouling eyes, and then there are words spilling out like liquid gold often inked, mostly digital typed in black over white with the intensity of a battle-axe chopping down with a feverish frenzy of poetic lividity.
Now those are the words that my eyes long to stay buried in.
Far too long has it been since I let my senses get slashed in heated jabs of lacerating daggers that cut like razors yet feel like feathers..
Meal woes or vows?
How do you fuel your gains?
I was asked this question and my answer was eating whatever I like within rational barriers..and yet today as I sit sipping on my tea, making a mental checklist of things to do I cannot come up with an answer to what my post workout meal would be.
Fried rice?
-nah, I had that yesterday
Noodles?
-nah, had that day before, moreover I don't feel like eating something oriental. Have been on that jig for a while now
Stuffed Parantha?
-nah, too damn tedious
Well what then?
I really don't know.
I mean I have a black eyed peas salad with brown rice and croutons in Moroccan dressing sitting serenely in my fridge, but that's something I prepared for my 4pm slump. Can't eat that.
Don't tell me I'll make a full circle and come to a sandwich conclusion. Noooo.
But then again, why not?
I've been of a mind to eat something hot and steamy. Preferably out of a bowl, nourishing, nutritious and deliciously palatable. This is a hard combo to crack.
Sigh..
I was asked this question and my answer was eating whatever I like within rational barriers..and yet today as I sit sipping on my tea, making a mental checklist of things to do I cannot come up with an answer to what my post workout meal would be.
Fried rice?
-nah, I had that yesterday
Noodles?
-nah, had that day before, moreover I don't feel like eating something oriental. Have been on that jig for a while now
Stuffed Parantha?
-nah, too damn tedious
Well what then?
I really don't know.
I mean I have a black eyed peas salad with brown rice and croutons in Moroccan dressing sitting serenely in my fridge, but that's something I prepared for my 4pm slump. Can't eat that.
Don't tell me I'll make a full circle and come to a sandwich conclusion. Noooo.
But then again, why not?
I've been of a mind to eat something hot and steamy. Preferably out of a bowl, nourishing, nutritious and deliciously palatable. This is a hard combo to crack.
Sigh..
Wednesday, 8 November 2017
Whoosh
The fan in my room so affectionately adored a few months past now stands ignored, bored, forlorn, lovelorn, sombre, forgotten, crestfallen, lachrymose, switched off.
How why
Some people like to go to the gym at 4:30 in the morning. What kind of a time is that even.
They day gets longer they say, but what's even the point if you've to sleep by 8.
How's the day any longer now?
But wow! 4:30 in the morning is dedication extreme.
They day gets longer they say, but what's even the point if you've to sleep by 8.
How's the day any longer now?
But wow! 4:30 in the morning is dedication extreme.
Colours
Colours you can eat. Yes there's pineapple, because Thai fried rice.
Tuesday, 7 November 2017
hærtš
Nighttime and the need to dematerialise into a deconstructed despondency of irregular emotions arranged in a tattered mound of midnight soliloquy feels like the most appropriate means to pay homage to this night.
Now I flutter restlessly In cotton confines, hearing thumps and thuds inside of me, emanating at a thought, a vision, a memory.
I
Now I must smear
a face I hold so dear
inside my irises
Love..
Now I flutter restlessly In cotton confines, hearing thumps and thuds inside of me, emanating at a thought, a vision, a memory.
I
Now I must smear
a face I hold so dear
inside my irises
Love..
Randomiser
Tell me if this is totally blasphemous but I just added a pinch of cinnamon to a small cup of mild coffee and it tasted beautiful.
Not something I'd venture to do everyday but maybe sometimes when I'm looking for a bit of twist I just might.
—
Right, dinner!
Mushrooms, Dahl, brown rice, chapatti and that'll be all folks.
Not something I'd venture to do everyday but maybe sometimes when I'm looking for a bit of twist I just might.
—
Right, dinner!
Mushrooms, Dahl, brown rice, chapatti and that'll be all folks.
le chat
I'll tell you something about my cat, that he was a lot more obedient as a stray. Now that he has a home and all that jazz, he's turned into a brat, but the cutest little furry brat ever. Colour me enslaved, my darling but this hazardous little bastard has me strung like a puppet.
An automatic dispensing machine for food won't give him the satisfaction of waking up his folks at odd hours, neither does it come with the added love of having food prepared for him, which I do, by calculated mixing of tuna and his regular cat food.
Given the cooling circumstances, he doesn't bother with exiting the warm Domus premises, preferring to jaunt about the house or balcony but by the gods, a bloody nocturnal that he is, his activity buttons only start operating post-midnight and about having him adjust his timings to ours, well, it's impossible.
If he has to sleep and I keep him from sleeping, he'll suddenly vanish into ethereal furs and get lost amongst some crevices in the house that sees no human activity and only emerge after his delicious catnap. He has his hideouts within this house that I'm not even aware of.
It's a cat thing.
---
many thanks for the warm appraisals on the new story. Nothing pimps my inner Vibgyor than your kind words.
hearts aplenty.
bad bad bad
Bad decision making, as undesirable as it may be, has a certain allure which stays atop thoughts like a magenta net of defensive dialogue keeping rationality at bay; oh, the seductiveness of second-guessing leading to a final cave in and doing something knowing full well you might regret it later, but at that moment regrets are the least of your concerns.
What do I rants on about you might well ask? What possibly could be a worse decision than getting married, a grave sin I'm already guilty of committing.. ah well, this one particularly bad decision is one often committed by a lot of us, usually in supermarkets.
Here are the premises. I had made a mental note to buy some puff pastry which is usually kept in the freezer section of supermarkets and as I was perusing the vast frigidarium like the haus of all things frosted I came upon some frozen fish.
I usually don't bother with buying frozen fish in Shanghai, having access to fresh meats anytime I want, but again, it's the inevitable allure of having something immediately handy. I do often indulge in frozen foods., viz, frozen good quality prawns, chicken wings, dumplings, peas, squids, smoked salmon and the like and I've usually been happy with the outcomes.
In fact, I'd often bought frozen salmon in the previous town I lived and loved many a good dishes thus, but this weekend past as I stood in front of a galactic proportioned freezer a beautiful package of frozen swordfish beckoned to me and though it was a bit pricey I assured myself a bit of indulgence.
The frozen fish sat serenely in my fridge until this morning when I liberated it from its cold confines and let it rest at room temperature to thaw, since the house is nearly as cold as the fridge and by afternoon when the ice had separated itself from the delicious fish flesh I tore out a chunk and tried to feed it to my cat as a reward for being so bloody adorable.
Now here's where this gets odd because the cat sniffed it and didn't bother to as much as even lick it.
Something off with his nose I presumed and ventured ahead and tried shoving that chunk right under his nasal passage and it was the cat that looked offended this time. Giving me his characteristic grumpy side eye he walked past ignoring me and the fish completely.
I'll tell you what I was and aghast was among one of the things because every time I've fed him fish he's purred himself into my life with the vehemence of a lost child on finding his mum and yet today..
Now, what do I make of this? I didn't eat the fish because if it's not good enough for the cat, it's certainly not good enough for me. I mean it's freshly packed and very good quality, but it failed the feline test and thusly shan't go anywhere near my mouth.
There was a gnawing monologue at the back of my head while I was buying it, that maybe I shouldn't, that perhaps I was being too optimistic, but here's the thing about bad decisions, they are absolutely bewitching.
Savage mornings
A very merry Tuesday. I hope my sarcasm stings.
The onslaught of Tuesday as it usually happens began with a whimpering ugh what with the cat hell bent on making my nights a thing of nightmares, last night or rather this morning around that hour which is only formally known as next day the cat walked about my person, kneading my head with his paws to wake me up, and I did. Put some food in his bowl and slept, and I use the word 'slept' rather loosely here for I was woken up by odd noises coming from outside of my bathroom door.
Eyeing the nefarious juju that my cat was probably upto through a slit of my barely opened eyes I felt like the little darling was distressed.
Throwing aside my covers I walked up to the cat to see him getting sick on a mat that marks the entrance of my bathroom.
Oh the poor dear wasn't feeling good and all that he had eaten was out in a fine mess..ah, all this at 3:40am. Surely I must have done something to appease the gods no end in my past life.
Picking up my feline and covering my limbs with some clothes I took him downstairs in case he wanted to wretch a bit more, except he didn't want to and instead ran into some thickets after which I lost him.
Self healing no doubt and after lingering about a moment in the freeze of the night I made my way upstairs.
Sleep was in the way of the mess that had been created, and I knew I wouldn't be able to slumber until I'd cleaned up enough to get it out of the way which is precisely what I did; after flinging the mat in the balcony and mopping away chunks of fish and food adorning my immaculate floors I finally made it back to my bed, only to wake up forty minutes later to pack lunch and fix breakfast, after which I went looking for the cat who came wanting to get petted and now sleeps on my still unmade bed because how I can disturb the poor thing?
The mat is now thoroughly washed and dried, the house given a good mop over and I find myself in a rather numb territory; that thin line which differentiates between a fresh corpse and a just animated zombie.
A bit of work out, some well meaning food and perhaps a bit of writing.
Maybe a bit of kickboxing to clear my mind.
What say Tuesday?
The onslaught of Tuesday as it usually happens began with a whimpering ugh what with the cat hell bent on making my nights a thing of nightmares, last night or rather this morning around that hour which is only formally known as next day the cat walked about my person, kneading my head with his paws to wake me up, and I did. Put some food in his bowl and slept, and I use the word 'slept' rather loosely here for I was woken up by odd noises coming from outside of my bathroom door.
Eyeing the nefarious juju that my cat was probably upto through a slit of my barely opened eyes I felt like the little darling was distressed.
Throwing aside my covers I walked up to the cat to see him getting sick on a mat that marks the entrance of my bathroom.
Oh the poor dear wasn't feeling good and all that he had eaten was out in a fine mess..ah, all this at 3:40am. Surely I must have done something to appease the gods no end in my past life.
Picking up my feline and covering my limbs with some clothes I took him downstairs in case he wanted to wretch a bit more, except he didn't want to and instead ran into some thickets after which I lost him.
Self healing no doubt and after lingering about a moment in the freeze of the night I made my way upstairs.
Sleep was in the way of the mess that had been created, and I knew I wouldn't be able to slumber until I'd cleaned up enough to get it out of the way which is precisely what I did; after flinging the mat in the balcony and mopping away chunks of fish and food adorning my immaculate floors I finally made it back to my bed, only to wake up forty minutes later to pack lunch and fix breakfast, after which I went looking for the cat who came wanting to get petted and now sleeps on my still unmade bed because how I can disturb the poor thing?
The mat is now thoroughly washed and dried, the house given a good mop over and I find myself in a rather numb territory; that thin line which differentiates between a fresh corpse and a just animated zombie.
A bit of work out, some well meaning food and perhaps a bit of writing.
Maybe a bit of kickboxing to clear my mind.
What say Tuesday?
Monday, 6 November 2017
Saturday, 4 November 2017
Saturdie
That weekends lend me little time and space to myself is no secret and that is exactly what Saturday had planned for me.
Right, new movie in town that too a superhero movie and I've been mentioning for a while especially after Batman vs superman how I'm done with crappy superhero movies, which is why I made no talks about watching the new Thor Ragnorak..and here's where this gets hilarious; the fact that a 'superhero' movie has just released and that I've been calmer than the Dead Sea about watching it was thought of as a some sort of marital examination wherein a spouse keeps quiet about what they want and the other half is supposed to conjure out of thin air those expectations and that is exactly what happened, for today morning I was exuberantly informed about how two tickets for new Thor had been booked.
I protested, said I wasn't interested in superhero movies, that I'm done with marvel and the likes, but the more I protested the more elaborate did the schemes become.
From online booking of popcorns and drinks to dinner reservations and the like and I was left wondering what part of 'I'm not interested' had been misinterpreted or even misunderstood?
Well all in good jest because let me tell you one thing, that this Thor movie was absolutely the best thing to come out of Marvel.
Yessir, far better than any of their movies and The last couple weeks I've fallen back into loving watching films in theatres, for that was my one true love but I had started losing it after a streak of bad movies, but the discovery of an IMAX near my house coupled with a string of fabulous movies has made me realise that this was the one thing I absolutely lived for.
Right, Thor Ragnorak is well made in all aspects. It's hilarious with a tight script, great music, excellent acting, great character balance, sets, affects and a complete newness.
I thought it'd be the same old drum being beaten to death, but pleasantly surprised how different and fresh it was constructed.
There was this weird sense of old school video games to it and the director played on to that and it was executed flawlessly. Did I mention it was seriously funny. (Oxymoron in case you were looking for it) The kind of movie that's a fun watch where you can immerse with no knowledge of anything from this universe and yet have a great time. There wasn't a single dull moment and its 3D was superb as well.
I think I'm glad I watched it and there's Hulk in it too and for some reason he's morphed into Shrek for me and I can't seem to shake it off.
Funny!
But here's thing, how did thee guess I'll be watching it? Hmm, haha. Well..
that's today, let's see tomorrow.
Right, new movie in town that too a superhero movie and I've been mentioning for a while especially after Batman vs superman how I'm done with crappy superhero movies, which is why I made no talks about watching the new Thor Ragnorak..and here's where this gets hilarious; the fact that a 'superhero' movie has just released and that I've been calmer than the Dead Sea about watching it was thought of as a some sort of marital examination wherein a spouse keeps quiet about what they want and the other half is supposed to conjure out of thin air those expectations and that is exactly what happened, for today morning I was exuberantly informed about how two tickets for new Thor had been booked.
I protested, said I wasn't interested in superhero movies, that I'm done with marvel and the likes, but the more I protested the more elaborate did the schemes become.
From online booking of popcorns and drinks to dinner reservations and the like and I was left wondering what part of 'I'm not interested' had been misinterpreted or even misunderstood?
Well all in good jest because let me tell you one thing, that this Thor movie was absolutely the best thing to come out of Marvel.
Yessir, far better than any of their movies and The last couple weeks I've fallen back into loving watching films in theatres, for that was my one true love but I had started losing it after a streak of bad movies, but the discovery of an IMAX near my house coupled with a string of fabulous movies has made me realise that this was the one thing I absolutely lived for.
Right, Thor Ragnorak is well made in all aspects. It's hilarious with a tight script, great music, excellent acting, great character balance, sets, affects and a complete newness.
I thought it'd be the same old drum being beaten to death, but pleasantly surprised how different and fresh it was constructed.
There was this weird sense of old school video games to it and the director played on to that and it was executed flawlessly. Did I mention it was seriously funny. (Oxymoron in case you were looking for it) The kind of movie that's a fun watch where you can immerse with no knowledge of anything from this universe and yet have a great time. There wasn't a single dull moment and its 3D was superb as well.
I think I'm glad I watched it and there's Hulk in it too and for some reason he's morphed into Shrek for me and I can't seem to shake it off.
Funny!
But here's thing, how did thee guess I'll be watching it? Hmm, haha. Well..
that's today, let's see tomorrow.
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