So many of them lie with me even as I write this..

My words seem to be screaming out of them, crying for you, wild in despair, looking for you, trying to reach you, all this just to get a deaf ear.

They change colors with season and the words have a life of their own. Some laugh all the time, some are wet with tears, some are always eager to be close to you, some warm, some cold…

These words live with you. These words still are in love with you!

Life is a journey and well, we all love being travelers. The whole idea of finding your destiny not only appeals to us but also excites us. Enough of philosophy, eh?! So, I was almost between three cities-or to be more accurate between two cities and one town- Delhi, Chandigarh, Simla…

The good news is that I am a post graduate finally, for those who consider degrees as education and the bad news was I had no job. Even though I call myself ‘gypsy’ and as much believe in the free-spiritedness, trust me I do need to earn as well.

Anyhow, coming back to what I essentially meant to write about. The first job is the hardest one; and when I say that minus all the part time jobs you’ve done, no matter how boring they were, the first full time job is the HARDEST. Here are a few reasons why…

• You’ve to get up almost the same time everyday. EVERY SINGLE DAY!
• You can’t bunk. No bunking. It is not your college or university where you can access how much of attendance you have and then go to sleep thinking ‘ah, all right I’d cover up next week.’
• Also, even if you’re to make an excuse, the pleasure of sharing it is all gone. Like in college you can’t text your group at the eleventh hour saying, let’s bunk today or say see you in the second lecture-am sleepy.snooze!
• The fact is there are no second lectures-it is a full day!
• You are in a strange world with stranger people around. Lucky you if you’re around home, but for most of us it’s the other way around. We’ve to find another home which comes closest to being at home. And that takes a lot of time.
• You’re apprehensive about the job, work, and culture of the firm you’re working with.
• You don’t know how to react to jokes of your colleagues and maybe which is why silence is the best policy was ever said.
• You wait for the weekend like anything and on the weekend you don’t know what to do.

Here are some of mine, add on yours

The value of somethings in life is only realized once they are gone. Though I have written, ranted and blabbered here, it is ironical that the place is been up and running since one year. Now I have to bid a goodbye to it as I kind of can’t afford it for now.

Thank you amitoj aka Nemesis for letting me have a space of my own.

Thanks everyone for being appreciative or critical at times, but more importantly reading me. Guess you can catch me on FaceBook, we still have a space to write notes there.

P.S  you never know I might just return to blogosphere.

XOXO

It’s a strange world. A strange life.

It is a full circle, but you never get to complete one!

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground
I can follow the path
I can read the sign
Stay right with it when the road unwinds
I can handle whatever
I stumble upon
I don’t even notice she’s gone
Most of the time.

Most of the time it’s well understood
Most of the time I wouldn’t change it if I could
I can make it all match up
I can hold my own
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone
I can survive and I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time.

Most of the time my head is on straight
Most of the time I’m strong enough not to hate
I don’t build up illusion ’til it makes me sick
I ain’t afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind
Don’t even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time.

Most of the time she ain’t even in my mind
I wouldn’t know her if I saw her
She’s that far behind
Most of the time I can even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was ever with her
Most of the time I’m halfway content
Most of the time I know exactly where it went
I don’t cheat on myself I don’t run and hide
Hide from the feelings that are buried inside
I don’t compromise and I don’t pretend
I don’t even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time.

Yes, I try, well, try-not to think about ironies of love, or even love for that matter..leaves me with a bad or sullen mood and a bitter taste…

And, what I didn’t tell him was

That somwhere I hoped and I hoped that love would find me again and take me in….

He smiled at her and said..
“Bitch, you better remmember that!”

Image credits-Flickr

The uncertain future looms large over me

I see nothing;

Yet, I forsee

That’s how I would surmise if you ask me what the Book thief is all about! I’m not reviewing it, particularly not in a manner which is conventional. But I’m mesmerized by the book. Completely!

But I’d like to tell you that it’s a must have. Written by Markus Zusak, I think it’s the best I have read after Manto’s Black Margins. The settings are of Nazi Germany and the story begins with the Liesel Merminger, a little girl being sent to foster parents.

She adapts to her new home, her new parents, the foul mouthed Rosa Hubermann, Liesel’s adoptive mother and Hans, her new father. To me, the three come together as a family never separated. Liesel journey continues with her nightmares, her bed wetting, the football with Rudy (her best friend) and a little stealing.

In a way, Liesel’s love of books can’t be described, it’s not because she knows how to spell the words or know them at all but because she picks up her first book from the grave of her dead brother. There is a bit of suspense until you discover that a Jew called Max Vandenburg visits their home for shelter in lieu of a promise made by Hans Hubermann during First World War. The family hides him.

The Second World War has already begun and gets closer to them and so does death, where Liesel miraculously escapes. I prefer not to reveal the end, for it’s much more than a simple escape from death for Liesel and for death.

The narrative is strong and grabs your attention. The first half may be a little slow but the peels reveal off just at the right time. I think it’s a book to be enjoyed, a book to be loved, and a book with some lovely insights, some thoughts that can’t just cross your mind until you read it. Its in all a new perspective.

“Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.-the book thief”

Priyanka ‘Dil ne kaisi harkat ki hai!!’

(11 minutes ago · Comment · LikeUnlike · Show Feedback (4) Hide Feedback (4)

You like this.)

Neha Chandok at 6:10am July 11

dil ne kesi harkat ki he, kya dil ne mohabbat ki he…
nazar aata chaand mein uska chehra, khuda ne yeh kya qyamat ki hei..

Priyanka at 6:12am July 11

lagta hai aap bhi is bimari ki mureed hain,tabhi aap bhi shayari kar rahi hain..

Neha Chandok at 6:14am July 11

mureed nai priyanka hum is bimaari k karan ‘murde’ hone wale hein…

Priyanka at 6:18am July 11

hehhehehhe…Way to go

Neha Chandok at 6:22am July 11

****

(Background-I went to meet M after a gap of two-three months. She has lost a lot of extra baggage in one year and plans to continue with it…)

M-You have lost weight again…you look thin, not like how you were after returning from Delhi!

Me-hmm, okay. Thanks!

M-Have I gone fat?

Me-Is that relative?

M-No, but I feel its proportional in a way. Least, by appearance.

****

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