Twisted tales on life

Ramblings

chennairamblings — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 06:50:22 +0000

When there is nothing remaining to be rent, how then can still feel my heart being sundered apart? Why is it that an empty space feels too heavy to be borne? Why is it that I can hear the waves dashing against my ear drums even as I stand stranded in a parched desert?

Filed under: Ramblings

On a dead heart

chennairamblings — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 03:33:50 +0000

Clammy hands holding my breathless heart

Squeezing it

Red rivulets flowing down

Your cold fingers

Trying to extract

All the warmth

That once flowed through my veins;

Do you not know that dead things

Have no more heat

Than the ice veins

Running in a glacier?

Filed under: Fiction, Relationships, Stardust, Verses

Ramblings

chennairamblings — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 10:55:13 +0000

The time keeper wound the clock

Yet again

Refusing to see the broken hands

That had stopped

Along with his heart;

She wound it

And kept watching

Until her hands bled

Torrents

And these began to keep their own time

Moving and answering

Only To Gravity;

She watched them

Seep through

To the Earth below

And waited

For her turn.

Filed under: Ramblings

He Said, She Said

chennairamblings — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 03:52:55 +0000

He Said: Where is the dynamo I knew? I miss her terribly.

She Said: I locked her up to keep her safe. She got too far ahead of herself. It was too much work hunting her down, scraping her up off the road and cleaning the mess.

Filed under: Conversations, Fiction, He said, She said

On Conformation

chennairamblings — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 07:03:35 +0000

A Scream

Choked Off

Curtailed

Pushing against my jugular

Strangling my consciousness

Hating me

Vilifying me

For being dishonest to myself

Conformation be damned!

Filed under: Ramblings

Ramblings

chennairamblings — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 06:33:08 +0000

One would think that after all the countless deaths one goes through a day that you would get used to them.

Living is a state of being that is clearly against nature, how else do we explain death?

Filed under: Ramblings

Apache Tears

chennairamblings — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 05:38:34 +0000

An Obsidian Soul
They named me;
Transferred
From one forge to the other;
Wagon wheels
Forged ahead
Through my heart
Laying roads
Leading nowhere;
Whet
Turn the blade
And quench
The flames
Hammer molten metal
Into a mold
Of acceptance and meek being;
A small sphere now in hand
A blurred vision, a locked fist
A thump and they are now shards
Reflecting
Tortured memories;
Obsidian
Glass shards in my hand
Being ground to a fine powder
In my kitchen;
Seven years of bad luck
Ground to dust.

Filed under: Stardust, Verses

Mood for the day

chennairamblings — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 00:10:52 +0000

What price freedom?
What price love?
Why can I not have the cake and eat it too?

Filed under: Ramblings

Rant about my cook

chennairamblings — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 10:55:20 +0000

I must be one of few women in India who has a cook and who still spends around 2 hours a day slaving in the kitchen.
She is a cook par excellence, my mother-in-law has even nick-named her “Sarala Dalal”; she is great at nick-names that way – my mother in law, not the cook.
The first day she walked in, saw the kitchen and asked me, “What is this?” while pointing out to a rice cooker.
I asked her to make Sambar and Rasam one day and so she made one dish and plonked it in front of me and said,”From top, Rasam. From bottom, Sambar” and very proudly looked at me.
While salivating over a possible modak feast on Ganesh Chathurthi, she told me very plainly, “I don’t make any sweets or snacks!”
When cutting vegetables, she claims not to know how to peel carrots properly.
I pay her 7000 a month for a schedule that she has scripted:
a) Walk into the house at 8 AM and have a cup of coffee while watching me run like a mad woman cooking and packing our lunch and commenting, “ayyo! chappati a? You should eat rice instead! Otherwise, you will be hungry”. She will then proceed to eat the breakfast my mother-in-law makes
b) Cook rice and some veggies that look like some flip-flops burnt over a raging fire by 11 and then sleep till 1.
c) Wake up at 1 and have lunch and go back to sleep and get up at 3 and have some tea.
d) Leave at 4.
My mother-in-law once tried to give her some ginger to peel and cut and for three days,she just kept it back in the fridge and left. The fourth day, she threw the ginger away. We got the point. She doesn’t cut ginger.
I have a cook who doesn’t know how to cut vegetables, make Sambar or Rasam or cut spices, doesn’t know how to make sweets or snacks and I pay her 7000/month for her services.
Out of curiosity I asked her once who cooked in her house and she proudly said “My father. They don’t want me to cook at home”.
Figures. I have a cook whose family knows better than to eat her food!

Twisted tales on life

Ramblings

On a dead heart

Ramblings

He Said, She Said

On Conformation

Ramblings

Apache Tears

Mood for the day

Rant about my cook

Aside