Sunday, July 27, 2014

Running

She was fiddling. With her hair. It was not there any more. But, she could just pretend that it was still there. The curls,her gorgeous curls, black, beautiful. The muscle and sinew of her hair that was no longer there. But it didn't matter. Her old life was over. No superficiality was left inside her., Nothing to support the sense of vanity she once had. Nothing. And she regretted nothing. 
She ran her tongue through her mouth. It was covered with razor edged sores. She prodded them, bit at them, just to taste the coppery blood flow through her mouth again. It made her feel alive. 
She looked at her palms. She blew at them. They were ice cold. She held her hands to her cheeks. But her palms just sucked away the heat from them. They din't get warmer. They made her colder. Her mother used to say that she cold-blooded hands. Hands that changed with the temperature. Just like the rest of her. Just a chameleon fitting into the scene anywhere she went. Sucking the life out of every one, everywhere.
She still remembered the last thing he said. Him "I am sorry". He had apologized for her mistakes. She reeled back from the contempt the three words held. He had looked at her one last time. Hatred. Then, he was gone. He din't turn around to hear the loud crash of her heart. He didn't see her fall. He never waited to see her demise. The death of who she was.
But now, none of it mattered. All that felt like a mere vestigial organ. One that caused a lot of pain. But all feeling to it had been clamped from it. No. She reassured herself that no emotion was left. 'No, no, no, no, no, no,no.....'.
She ran her hand through her scalp. The short hair pricked her cold palms. 
A fire burned in front of her. She looked around. It was the bad part of the town. A place she would never have ventured out to in her previous life. But that one was over. Long gone. Over when he left. Now she looked like a person who would live in the bad part of town.
She stared out into the flames, mesmerized by the way the flames tickled the paper she had thrown in, before devouring it in whole. She watched as a bit of ash settled on her shoulder. She didn't brush it off. It could be her companion. 

She relished the heat for one last second and set off again. No use of staying anywhere.
"Gotta keep moving, gotta keep moving...." she hummed to herself with the stubbornness of a madman. 

PS: I hit 10000 viewers. I am celebrating. Thanks. 

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Toss

Hate. Rage. Hate. Anger.
He chanted in his mind.
Ground his teeth.
Tossed in his sleep.
Cried in the deep, dark, dreary, missing night.

She started out into the window,
Into the missing daylight.
She ran her hands through her scalp
Tossed her sunrise, moonlight curls.
Crashed onto another rocky night.

"Mommy, Mommy!", cried the child,
One hand full of petunias,
Other wrapped in a mother's blue fingers.
Tossing his flowers, he grabbed her
Trying to wake her from an eternal sleep.

He watched, clutching a cappuccino,
Not too hot, not too sweet.
He touched his wrinkles, recalling the
Tossed away years of a long over life
As he gazed at old, broken children.

The ship had set sail,
Over an ocean unknown, unseen.
Her sails were torn, hull broken,
Tossed as she was
Across paths yet to be found.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

How Not to do Advertising

I realize that it has been over week since I have blogged, but since that isn't something that never happens, I won't apologize. I have noticed that most of my blog posts begin with apologies. NOT ANYMORE!!! MUAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA!! Anyway since I am too busy trying to revamp my blog today I will be posting a self advertisement I did a long time ago. I find it funny so here goes:
The writer of this generally stupid and maddeningly boring piece is an almost 14 year old weirdo known as Niranjana Menon. She knows very well that big–shot companies don’t hire over-excited teenagers useless at anything but raving about everything ranging from photons to democracy to bad haircuts. But as usual, she feels that writing an essay is way more interesting and productive than sitting hunched in front of her desk completing Physics (or is it Geography?) homework.
She has a vague idea in the back of mind that constantly reminds her each time she comes up with a wild and crazy idea for this piece that she has to advertise herself as a writer. But she is painfully aware of the fact that she is not the ideal person somebody would want to hire to babysit their broken down car. She in her dreamy world would probably let somebody who doesn’t own the car take it for themselves. Nevertheless, here is a list of the things she thinks are great accomplishments in her life and would greatly revolutionize the company if they hired her. 
·         Managed to stare at her Geography teacher while not falling asleep- She was the only person in the whole class able to survive that period and that too with toothpicks propping up her eyelids from mercifully stopping the visual input of the inhumanely boring subject and teacher.
·         Putting a chocolate in her pocket when she does not even have a pocket- Well of course, she didn’t manage to find it later and did manage to drive her best-friends mad in search of it.
·         Writing in her blog once a month (or annually once) - As someone once said, ‘Something is better than nothing.’ The only drawback is that her posts are so weird she herself seldom understands what she writes. 
·         She finished a book in an hour- No; it was not Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. If she is correct it was the Ulysses. Or maybe it was Snow White.
·         Managed to pour an entire mug of water over her dark brown uniform skirt- She was attempting the extremely difficult task of taking a book behind a mug during art class. The rest of the class informed her that she had peed in her skirt.
·         Passing in a chemistry test when she had studied for physics- NOTE: The above mentioned student had not in the entire term opened her chemistry textbook. (So it is an added benefit if you hire her, she is extremely competent of preparing for extremely stressful situations in two minutes.)
·         She came last in the drawing competition in her school- Come to think of it even her 3 year old brother draws way better than her. Even 1st graders defeated her. Nevertheless it was a great experience for her to be the only person in high school to be drawing stick figures and purple faces.
·         The writer attended 7 different schools but never managed to make more than her consistent number of friends, 0 – The number of enemies were limitless but that wouldn’t be her achievement to claim to. They hated me so much that they should write a guide, ‘HOW TO HATE IRRITATING ANNOYING PEOPLE’.
·         She still counts on her fingers- She does know the tables up to ten and how to add 7 to 8. Who needs things after that when we have calculators and cell-phones is her impassioned plea.
  So here, the endless list of Niranjana’s humongous advantages over those desperately begging for this job ends. But she pleads the company that so rightly described her weird inhibitions in their ad; please rescue her from the clutches of her evil history teacher who unfairly calls her distracted when 1% of her brain was actually tuning into her boring descriptions of the constitution. And that’s how she decides to ends this advertisement of her wonderful, marvelous, charismatic self.
Farewell.
PS: You could hire me if you wanted to, you know. (hint hint)