MuLSiFiD

Sigur Ros : Svefn-G-Englar

2011-02-19T18:14:00.010+05:00

19.02.2011 : The day I walked out of work before my working hours ended officially and plopped down on top of a stuffed bear to watch "Svefn-G-Englar" by Sigur Ros. I must thank Nurt for showing it to me - I actually think I might have gone through life without watching the video... an unforgettable, and award winning video I don't think anyone should miss out on.

Svefn-G-Englar seems to be a play on words, translating to "sleepwalkers" or "Sleep Angels".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ5Grncdjlc
Directed by August Jacobsson and featuring the Reykjavik's Perlan Theatre Group

What made the video special for me at first were the quotes that appeared on the lower right hand corner of the screen. They were words that had been unimaginably beautifully uttered and had left their traces in the ever invisible, intangible weightless atmosphere of thoughts and memories.

The quotes... they made perfect sense and to me, couldn't have been said any better. I am not even going to write any comments or thoughts or feelings about the first three as I am pretty sure the words are so strong in their own sense, and so naked in its meaning that there's little room left for confusion or even disagreement.

I took the liberty of writing them down here, the first four are my favorites and placed in preferred order. The rest, as they appear in the video.

[the below list was amended today - #2 was originally #9, and the previous quote that was at #2 is now at #5]

1. “Without music, life would be a mistake” - Nietzcne

2. “In the end I think of music as saving grace for all humanity” – Henry Miller

3. “A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence” – Leopold Stokowski

4. “See deep enough, and you see musically; the heart of nature being everywhere music” – Thomas Carlyle

NOTE ABOUT 4. : This one made me think about one of my... what can I say... ideas? perceptions? thoughts? a realization? that I had a couple of months ago... perhaps even a year ago... I can't recall exactly but - it came to my notice that I hear and register a lot of things in beats and rhythms. It could be the filing of a nail in a salon, the hammering and metal works at a construction site, the ringing clinks of cutlery, footsteps - running or walking - and even the hum of engines on a motorbike, a car or some other vehicle.

I sometimes wished I could separate the noises into different files like you do in a recording program where it lets you record music in multi-tracks. I bet if that happened, that when all the sounds we hear around us are broken down to different tracks, we would find and see that each did have it's own special rhythm and it is simply difficult to hear it amidst the chaos of everyday life.

I wondered after reading this whether that was along the lines of what Thomas Carlyle had meant.

5. “Music was invented to confirm human loneliness” – Lawrence Durrell

6. “Music is the shorthand of emotion” – Leo Tolstoy

7. “Music expresses that which cannot be said on which it is impossible to be silent” – Victor Hugo

8. “Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything” – Plato

9. “Music can name the un-nameable and communicate the unknowable” – Leonard Bernstein

10. “Music is well said to be the speech of angels; in fact, nothing among the utterances allowed to man is felt to be so divine. It brings us near to the infinite” – Thomas Carlyle

What then made the video special for me, will come in another post.

Crossroads

2010-10-04T11:13:00.002+05:00

I am at a crossroad. The arrows marked on the four directions are out of dollar signs. They say money isn't important. It is now. You'd be a fool to beg to differ. You'd be lying and you know it's through your teeth.

I loved my old job but had to quit because of the crazy working hours. I spent 3 months unemployed, then regularly gigged at 4 resorts, 4 nights a week for 5 months straight. Another 3 and a half months go by and I start working at radio where I go for an hour every weeknight, and now, since July, I still go there three days a week for an hour. Been two years at the radio, still counting. By last October, I had had enough of free time and started working full time. I earn enough to save and spend crazily. Ok not that crazily but still... I'm 21.

I am now sick of this daily routine. Sick maybe because my day job isn't so exciting as before. I have decided to wait until next Jan/Feb (but can I suck it in and stay put?) to see if things pick up. If things do pick up, would I still consider sitting at this desk 45 hrs a week? As opposed to say, 12 - 15 hrs a week and a better pay? Radio...? No comments.

The crossroad isn't all about money though. Hold up for a minute - but money is integrated everywhere.. so even if it has life choices, they again depend on money. Money drives me crazy. Which is why I always wish I was born in another era, when money was not present and making everyone's ass itch. That would be in cavemen times I guess. I will be a cavewoman. GAAHHGAHHHHGAHHH)@(#*$&@#$HHHHH!

The real annoying clitch (the word I should be using here is catch perhaps, clitch is not a proper word, but who cares) in the choices are that before I had too much free time and it drove me mad, so I got the day job. Now that I don't have enough time for music and whatever other impulses, I crave for it. But knowing and continuously analyzing myself makes me wonder if I quit my job, would I crave for it in a couple of months again? I guess the real annoying clitch is that we never know what is going to happen.

New found subject

2010-09-27T09:19:00.004+05:00

It's yet another rainy day in Male'... puddles, raincoats, umbrellas and people without raincoats or umbrellas rushing around with various objects covering their heads... plastic bags, paper bags, a book, a set of papers or both their hands... and the monsoon never seemed to end. Perhaps as the ancient Mayans had predicted, the world is going to deplete in 2012 and this was her way of letting us know the end is nearing, and to slowly start preparing for it. But how do we prepare for that I wonder? Obviously I for one, have many dreams yet to accomplish, and many exotic, breathtaking places to travel and conquer.

As usual, wandering thoughts of my mind has lead me to talk about something very unrelated to what I originally titled this post for and wanted to write about. Hence instead, I shall talk about this new found subject. <-- I wrote to that point on 27 Sep 10 and now I am wondering whether the new found subject was the world ending in 2012 or my dreams of jet-setting. Hmm...

the day we beached Contiti

2010-09-17T20:45:00.003+05:00

Dear reader,

Remember those really old “cartoon flashbacks” inside the cartoons we used to watch? The ones that came with a jumpy trumpety-song and a too-jolly voice of a man with a greasy slob slicked back and parted in the middle wearing a bow tie and a penguin suit? The following has absolutely no connection to this, but I thought I’d just write it here. Well, mainly because I sometimes read things in funny voices, thought I’d let you know.

After traveling to Noonu Atoll Randheli, I spent two days inside Fabio’s hut, watching movie after movie, Nacho Libre for the first time, and on the second day, a second time. I woke up on the third day and decided it being my last here, I should go out and get some sun.

Fabio and I decided to take Contiti – the 15-foot dinghy – out for a ride. We donned on sun tan and shades, got the masks and fins and boarded the vessel. And off we went, speeding into the hot balmy day towards Dhigurah, an island named aptly for which when translated literally means ‘long’ – Dhigu, and ‘island’ – rah.

Upon not finding a solid enough rock or coral mass to tie Contiti to, we instead beached her. I said lets explore the island so we set off walking to our left. About 50 meters in, Fabio said to keep on walking, he’d meet me by the other end of the beach and headed back to the dinghy. So walk I did, and came across a little cove-like patch where the beach had eroded and I could see the roots as well as the tree. It was beautiful. I stood under a canvas that was hundreds of leaves of trees leaning out towards the sea. It was eerily calming. I looked out to the horizon and saw rain clouds had gathered and started pouring. The wind was picking up and I knew rain was on its way.

A little while I waited and then kept on walking, leaving the soft sand with my imprints. I looked back and saw Fabio by the dinghy. Couple of minutes later I looked again and saw Fabio still by the dinghy, so then I turned and went back and was met by a sheepish man who hadn’t managed to get the boat back into the sea. I just assumed he was a bit unfit. So I said, lets try both of us. Lets do this!

And then began the utmost massive task of getting a 15-foot (or maybe 20 that's what Fabio said but I still think it's 15), massively heavy boat off the beach. We had to be quick and skillful, moving at the right time when the right waves came. James Bond and Fatima Blush we were! On the same team though. Oh man... At one point I swear I heard Fabio’s shorts cry for mercy as both of his legs (wait, why am I thinking about an isosceles triangle and one of my theories about it though I cannot recall what exactly my theory was about?) formed a party hat shape? Then I was down on my back with my arms as pillars and legs propped against the boat.

After what seemed like an hour of pushing – from which I now have learned and gained the age old reproduction method experience of giving birth, the possibility of a hernia and the quite-near-possibility of crapping myself – we huffed and we puffed and we blew the god damn boat off the beach! There were moments when we thought we couldn't push anymore, but we encouraged ourselves to keep on fighting like soldiers in a gruesome battle. A moment when I thought my face was forever going to be stuck like this, like I was on the toilet and trying to push out the fattest crap ever in recorded history. A time when our shorts and pants occupied enough sand to build a house or two.

Whose brilliant idea was it to beach Contiti? Mine.

*Then you hear the jumpy trumpety-song again as the red – or black and white if that’s what you imagined – velvet curtains closed down*

More stories of Fabio and Mulsifid coming your way

Apples, Oranges and Chronology

2010-09-13T09:15:00.005+05:00

When evolution took place, human nature and all emotions stayed stuck in a wormhole and failed to emerge as a new model of something of a memory with a few characteristics intact.

This is the story of a man, an Apple, an Orange and about chronology. Chronology, is defined as the arrangement of events in time. I am trying to explain how it is relevant to a situation where you are faced with making a choice, and how useless it can be at the same time. Hopefully I can make this clear as I am having a hard time trying to explain the thoughts in my head.

Ok, here we go.

You are at a certain point where you stop and look back, reviewing every little detail of every episode big and small that have contributed to the situation you are in now, knowing it was the decisions you made in the first place that have lead up to this, knowing that you already knew back then of the consequences should you make these decisions. One leads to two, two leads to three, three leads to four. I guess this is where it is relevant – to trace your steps, what you did and didn’t do, what happened and what did not. Which lead to which.

Sometimes I wonder though, could it be without intention things could have proceeded this far? We are conscious of every move we make, are we not? Even for a fraction of a second, the thought enters into our mind, ping pongs back and forth until we decide in that fraction of a second what the answer to that thought is, do we not? But perhaps in our subconsciousness and naivety, could this be possible?

Leaving state of mind and lack of sophistication aside, I then ask how would it help for someone to be completely and accurately aware of a situation from its start to its end, when he is faced with a choice and has no idea which to pick?

And so this is where I tell you about the time when Fate gave him to choose either Orange, Apple, or none, and where the order of events plays two parts. He takes a step forward but hesitates. Sure, for him to make a choice he would naturally trace back to all the thoughts his brain had stored of oranges and apples; the good, the bad. How one thing has lead to another and from there on whatever else had sprouted and spread wings. Reality calls and coming back to the present, he now has to think about the future, and even with all the information in hand, it’s still not much use.

Leaving all memories behind, let’s think about his options. If the choice was two, it was less and in one way easier to decide upon; either Orange or Apple. If you’re still struggling, make a list of Pros and Cons and see which one has more of the former. When it broadens to include ‘none’, you then begin to think perhaps ‘none’ would be an easier, and even a better solution. ‘None’ gives you (or rather forces you to take) the opportunity to gather up your courage and brave the unknown for you know nothing about it. Anything is possible with ‘None’. You could kick away both distractions, bid farewell and go on a new path.

Pardon my usage of second and third persons, I hope you are following along fine.

He then thinks vastly about the micro society he lived in, with its predicaments, narrow views and quick judgment on basically every single thing on the face of his country – not the Earth this time as the people as I just mentioned, really are very narrow minded. And again, the order of events came back to haunt him because of the society, because of his history, because every little thing he did had been documented so well. A new level of pressure arose conflicting with his wants, thinking about what the society thought of him and what they would think of him and his choice of life. How they would relate all the previous mishaps to the current condition and make up their own tales.

He knows the biological part of thought-flow; the neurons, receptors, synapses, etc etc. He knows the chronological order of thought-flow. He is fully aware of his surroundings, actions, accountable motives of his and relevant people and of the war between the mind and the heart. This is where knowing it all did not come in handy, and rather be an obstacle in getting to the needed answer. At this point, he felt it was better to shake his head like a dog drying itself after a bath, praying it all goes flying like droplets of water.

Oranges hit him on full force like raging storm clouds with its citric-ness and acidity, coloring his days brilliantly when they went too alkaline.

Apples kept him sane and healthy like the saying, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”.

All of this made it all the more hard to regain balance and control of the situation. He knows what it is about each that makes him want both. He knows what it is that makes him reject both. And then there was none. Somehow the pros and cons, logical explanations, reasons, justifications and emotions all seemed to override the root of all his problems. His head went fuzzy with a swarm of pests he just could not get rid of.

Really, human nature and emotions were put in place to toy with us. When we evolved, we evolved into superior forms, better adapted. Physically? Yes. Mentally? Not so sure. Emotionally? Definitely not.

Other side of Male'

2010-08-15T12:52:00.004+05:00

I was on a speedboat coming back to Male' from a resort site inspection, and we neared to the west side and sped along the coastal lines until we reached no.1 jetty. During the short while it took to come from the west to the north-west, I saw a side of Male' I had not seen before, and felt ashamed I had not. I have grown up here, spent 21 years here and have failed to walk on the sea wall surrounding the harbour and market. Living in a 2 sq km island (correct me if I'm wrong cos I think I am about the size), I don't think there should be even an inch of the land we haven't covered or poked our noses into. For example, I didn't know the gap you see in the above picture was even there! For me, little things like this matter. I like little things. Little things combine to form bigger things... no?

I liked that the navigation light posts were a bit different from the ones at the airport ferry terminal, they looked older and more ancient. Made me imagine how several decades ago our little island would look like - no paved roads, no big buildings, a vehicle or two here and there, just a wee little quiet, yet a busy fishing and business port. A drop in the ocean.

I roamed in and around the market with Faz - joined later by Fabio and Murray. It was my first time inside the old market (one end you can see from the above pic), the one made out of tins opposite the fish market, and I enjoyed every second of it. The stale smells, the thick, humid atmosphere, loud radios screeching Quran, religious programs or some other talk shows. Walk we did, checking the prices of salted and dried fish, mangoes, veggies and fruits from different stalls. There was a stall selling goods from Fuamulak, everything was from Fuamulak, except the guy who was selling them. I really had it pegged for a 100% authentic Fuamulak stall you know. Bit dissapointing. Everyone gave me funny looks because I doubt they've seen a local girl our age go there in ages.

So last night I showed this and some other pics to my boyfriend and to my surprise, even HE didn't know this little gap existed. See, I think little details are very important.

I am waiting for the weather to let up again. I'm not too happy with the photos I took so... once the weather clears, it's time to go visit the market again. I we should walk around more... vehicles interfere with our way of live more than we think they do. More about this later. I wanted to write about materialism in here as well, but let's just keep this about Male' and her beauty (though we've lost most of it).

Random SMSs

2010-06-20T00:47:00.003+05:00

last night I dint know wat was up with me, but I had a funny mood going on and wanted to take the hell out of dear Fitz, who was in Bangkok at the time. it was half time of Italy Vs New Zealand if I remember correctly, and Shakira's "Waka Waka" came on. one of my friends had said that 'waka' sounded like 'vodka', and another had said that at the start of the line, "Tsamina mina" sounds like "Aminaibi", so that memory popped into my head and I was on the go.

Texts between Fitz and Me:

Fitz Alora… koba kihinakunntha haalu?
Me Eatin choc, come back soon!
Fitz Yipieee… salhi ey… M missin d fun dho, cant wait to get back home
Me yeah, you’re missin out man. Aiminaibe is drinkin vodka
Fitz kekeke… kaaku mihaaru aiminaibe akee? & y is she havin vodka?
Me cos she’s a bad bad girl and she’s been all over the town
Fitz Kihaa dherakameh anekka mi jehunee. Aiminaibe anekka ufannveetha? Thought she was dead!
Me we resurrected her from the dead. Don’t you know, we can do black magic! Umbala umbala jaala gidi gidi saamabala
Fitz yaarabbee mee anekka maa nurakkaa bayeh dho
Me *still sendin gibberish to Fitz*
Fitz kaleymen moyaveetha? Kon fadha Aiminaibe eh hey
Me Aiminaibe said she doesn’t like you
Fitz e’ee keeve yo?
Me Cos you’re a bad bad boy and you’ve been all over the town. Muahahahaha
Fitz you guys are crazy
Me *sends another round of gibberish*
Fitz Maaiykalaakoa mee dhen kihaa bodu balaa eh. Keevvegen tha thiulhenee? Who is this Aiminaibe?
Me She’s Aiminaibe, and she’s havin vodka. Salaam buni Fitz ah.. said she wants to have vodka with you
Fitz is she real?
Me Ofcourse she’s real! Btw, she just said Fitz varah vayoa…
Fitz Thimeehun vayee…

[… and this continues for another good hour or so]

Sitting. Sit. Sat. Seated.

2010-06-18T15:16:00.001+05:00

7:34 AM oh yes. Woke up with my belly bursting with - wait, really, you thought I would say that? haha! No really, bursting with pee and tried to remember how much water I drank the night before. By the time I got through my toilet mission, my sleepiness had totally disappeared after sitting on the pot for so long and thinking funny thoughts of surreal things.

7:40 AM aah how nice to sit on the pot without the light on on a Friday morning... lazy beams seeping through the window... spots of circular light on the walls and the floor called as we know "kokaa avi"... funny I should like it, considering how much I hate butterflies.

8:52 AM so I get dressed and go to a cafe', have a measly breakfast of very delicious food served grandly over long tables in a buffet. why measly you say? I piled up my plate up high and couldn't even eat half of it. damn you braces! Lady GAGA singing about a Bad Romance between a celebrity and a Paparazzi with a Poker Face, wanting to "take a ride on his disco stick". What a wonderful day, staring out at clear blue-green seas, the charming melody of the boats humming away in the salty breeze, and listening to vulgar, obscene, hilarious lyrics of an eccentric chick who at one time, had even been a show girl... I think.

9: 27 AM then comes in two ladies, one was stick thin, in her mid or late 40's, perhaps 50's...? with short straight hair resembling 'Edna' from The Incredibles. The other one was robust, wild curly hair let loose on her back, and I ask my friend, "who's the skinny one?" he says, "that's Velezina". Velezina, what a name... I thought. Who had named her...? I thought. And I sat there and I thought about that incredibly beautiful name and decided I must write about it today, must celebrate how lovely it sounded every time it was said. Biiig sigh...

10:05 AM out again, on the bike, sitting like a dried fish with my arms and legs hanging loose, letting the air play with my hair and dance around and in between my arms. Sitting on the bike seat while we drove around the matchbox of colorful houses and sticky smells. Round we go and up two flights of stairs. Through the hall, pass the fridge and into the studio. Pick up the guitars, roll our sleeves, manufacture the amp and strike the chords. HELL YEAH!

10:36 AM Michael Jackson feat. Slash "Give In to Me" sends shivers up and down left and right. Such a haunting melody, perfectly composed with unequaled vocals, biiig sigh again, oh what a shame he had to go. Sitting cross legged on the sofa, my friend sitting on the computer chair, two guitars in our hands we started jamming to 'Is This Love?' Wow this was so chilling on a Friday morning I thought. And then back home I came, because I had to clean my room and so on and so forth. MEH.

11:44 AM oh but butterflies... again here I am loafing this time (not sitting) on a metal framed rectangular lounger with the seat made out of ropes and knots. Next to me, Mary and Max reclined back on the other two seats too, and lazily we laughed at silly stories, and all this time I had in my right hand an eakle-broomstick, prepared to defend myself should a butterfly fly my way in this green garden of flowers, plants, pots and trees.

And while we lay there, the muranga tree swayed slowly in front of us, bright green leaves shining in the daylight. Funny day, funny things, little bit weird. I said, "I wouldn't mind if butterflies became extinct."

I will never celebrate New Year...

2009-12-28T23:24:00.005+05:00

...or rather, I'l never GET to celebrate New Year. so far, my New Years have gone like this:

2004: too small, just finished O'levels. at home... or where WAS I? yeah... prolly at home. where else would I be?

2005: was supposed to go with Bing to Sarawak but my mom made me come home for holidays. bought a ticket to the disco at kuda bandos (yayy my first ever New Year celebration!!) and waited patiently in line for more than an hour... by the time it was 11.30 PM I decided I didnt wana be on a boat when the countdown hit, so I refunded me and my friends' tickets, and went to this lame ass party and danced for like 15 mins, went on a car ride crammed with 8 or 9 of us and came home around 1 AM.

2006: was deported to Haa Alif. my parents left to India, I was ecstatic, made plans for a massive party at home but left my sis in charge, who is to be blamed for this hurtful act. how bored was I? erm... i don't know how to tell you...

2007: resort music, didnt even get paid well. bummer

2008: resort music, didnt get paid well and more over, was sent back to male' around 1.30 AM, after we finished the gig that is. they were like, the ferry's ready so you guys can pack up and leave whenever you're ready. damn... that was THE WORST experience ever! and all of my friends were going nuts on a desert island with the stereo blastin away with every awesome dance song imaginable! i know cos i heard it when i called em to share the bad news.

2009: yet again... resort music. and i feel sad cos all of my girlfriends are leavin to lanka on 30th. *BIG FAT SIGH*... ugh...

2010: I am definitely going somewhere, and not to a resort with a band. this is gonna be my new year resolution: to FRIGGIN CELEBRATE THE NEXT NEW YEAR hard enuf to.. to.. i shud get better at this. i shud.. considerin how much my friends pick on me. anyway, you get the idea. i'm off to moop and mope and sulk. well, to watch Scrubs which i find incredibly hilarious.

My Capricorn

2009-12-26T07:25:00.008+05:00

Just A Dream
I can't tie a string to the moon or the stars,
And bring them down for you
To cover you in moonshine,
or bathe with you in the glow of those are...

Just a dream that is too far away,
A dream that I’m trying to reach.

I could be your deity or your mermaid, or your princess,
or I could even be your damsel in distress
Sadly there are no more pearls for me on the ocean's dance floor,
I've granted my wishes for which I now lament.

A bit of fairy dust, a sigh of wind that might just
Blow us away into another realm
To sing and dance to count the drops,
To love and lust and hear my heart almost stop
To getting down on my knees
To breathe and live and finally be so free
Whenever you smile
Whenever you laugh
Whenever you are near

To love you with every millionth of my heart, I'd gladly do
To be in love with you with every inch open wide, I would
I could

This year in short, has been quite eventful. This year brought me back to the person I was almost 6 years ago, but better, like a newer model of some gadget. 6 years is way too long to have been groping for an answer, to have been stripped down bare of all my energy and used like a battery to fuel everyone else. To have been mocked and ridiculed – yes I know you were pointing fingers at me and I saw the sneering – I’m not blind you see. But I remained your friend didn’t I?

This year really has been one of the best in my life so far. The best actually… I am grateful for my Capricorn who cured me and healed me and put a band-aid on my wound. You are the only one who saw the inflictions and vowed to put an end to it, and you did. Everything is so complete, unadulterated and pure, and finally my mind is at peace.

This isn’t just a dream for me anymore, I’m not hopelessly trying to reach with outstretched arms anymore… Thank you for making it a reality for me. And not another hope burnt to ashes.

Solitary Solitaire II

2009-07-30T01:36:00.003+05:00

Continuation from my previous note "Solitary Solitaire", hence, this is part II.

I actually wrote that to write about being a very lonesome individual, be it by being forced or because he or she wants to be disconnected. I also wrote that to express my frustrations of feeling very isolated, even in the most crowded of places. I could be surrounded by all of my friends and yet, feel a continuous gnawing inside that would remind me over and over again of how much I felt alone and apart from the rest of the world.

The need for human contact, for the social scene, burned so deep that it created a hole which never properly healed. I was never alone for a long time, I almost never had alone-time. I didn't understand the importance of the latter, couldn't stand to be in an empty room. I needed someone by me, no matter what I did.

Being forced to be lonesome is tragic. It is a cruel act of one or more persons, and no one should be subjected to this. I cannot even begin to describe the level of negative impact this has on a person, both physically and more importantly, mentally. The mind wanders in a million ways; it ponders incessantly, plays mind games both consciously and subconsciously, questions things which will or may never be answered.

When I say the mind plays games, subconsciously, it can lead the person to believe untrue conclusions as to how and why the individual may have been forced to such circumstances.

I was once forced, I lost all my friends and nobody would speak to me. I had just turned 13, couldn't understand what my body was going through, my family was one big hysteria episode, the boy I had a crush on and spent ages on the phone asked another girl out, my sister was abroad and I had no idea when she was coming back and I was blamed for countless things I hadn't done. I thought the world had seriously taken a massive dump on me. I felt so alienated. I felt lifeless. I lost the will to live, but I had no guts to commit suicide and I guess that's actually being brave; by not killing myself, I was forcing myself to continue, tackle life's challenges and move on forward. And I am thankful for not having taken my life, because then I would not have been alive to witness and experience the beauty and everything that has happened to me since then.

My turning point came when one classmate came up to me and uttered these simple, beautiful words, “My mom said we shouldn't stay without speaking, so I will be your friend from now on. I'm not going to be angry with you anymore.” I cannot write all that I went through and all that I felt back then, for then I would have to write so much more, but I'll tell you that I was quite depressed. For a long time all I ever had were lows, it seemed that my highs would never come. And it was when she said those words, that I felt a weight shift and I had a shred of hope to survive. She had lent a hand when nobody else cared to, and she probably doesn't know this, or the extent of her small gesture but to me, it wasn't a small gesture, it was huge.

I was an introvert, and even now to some extent I am, and maybe that is the reason why people feel it's okay to take out their frustrations on me, they know I will absorb it like a helpless sponge. A person might be going through various emotions; misery, unhappiness, anger, sadness or some level of depression; but there is no justification regardless whatever their reason is, to vent their disappointment on anyone else; this is purely not right. Which brings me to tell you that I strongly believe in the following saying:
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Regarding the conscious part of the mind playing games, that is altogether a different story, that which is carried out by people who only take the advantage of others. I have no interest in writing about that as for now, because I, too, have been manipulated by someone who had not a single good intention. For a prolonged period of time, it didn't even occur to me that I had become a stranger to myself and others around me. When friends said I've changed, I simply thought they were being ridiculous. But I see now the person I was before, for about 3 years and that is a long time to have been different.

Going back to the first paragraph, I wrote “...be it by being forced or because he or she wants to be disconnected.” Being a loner by will, I guess the person is just a solitary person, who does not engage in worldy and material things, who basks in the warmth of themselves and not need the everyday social life for them to feel complete. I think they just might be the happiest of us.

After I started writing this, I have branched out into my own stories, so now I'm going to go back to what I was saying before; how alone I felt. And I know now that this was merely because I couldn't find anyone who understood me properly, or actually took the time out to talk and relieve all the internal conflicts that were happening. Sure I had my friends, and they are the best friends I could ever ask for, and sure I had my sister whom I always talked to, but I just needed someone to blurt out everything to. And I have, and no longer do I carry around a weight that seemed to be the weight of a thousand men, and no longer do I feel alone. My mind has been cleared up and washed free of the guilt and the burdens I had carried around, and I have found what it is to spend some time alone and not crave for social contact.

I am still a Solitary Solitaire, but this time I am happy.

The O.K. State

2009-06-18T01:14:00.002+05:00

Stupid notes people write making me feel ill. Things people do piss me off. Unnecessary wall posts.. Just to get attention. Just to make a point. Just to boost their ego. And worst of all, people who are stupid. When did I become this bitter, I ask myself?

Before I go any further let me put down the meaning of the word 'stupid', since I seem to use it rather often.
Definition of 'stupid' : stubborn. narrow minded. hypocrite. People with no reason for being alive. [the latter is cruel, yes, but I just needed to write that.]

NOTE : i wrote this ages ago... its been in my drafts all this time and i thought i might as well just delete or publish the post, and then i thought i'd go for the latter one. so here goes.

1. Crocodile leather.
Forgive me for being bitter. Cold. Callous. People think I'm bubbly, cheerful and giggly. Sure I'm all of that but not 24/7, that would be just insane. But then I have my really detached side. Sometimes I let that side take over.. I guess everyone has days like those.

2. Strange. Eccentric. Weird?
Forgive me for wanting to do things outside the "norm". But hey, who would you classify as a normal person? Someone who functions like a pet? Or better/worse, a pet who performs chores? [I didn't know what to pick from better and worse]. What kinda job do you classify as normal? Wearing a suit and tie or in my case, some kinda formal clothing and sitting at a desk 8 hrs a day?

3. Sex. Not intercourse - gender.
Oho! I hate being a girl. The things I'm deprived of. The things that I do and people feel I should be deprived of. Well not deprived exactly but they just wish I wouldn't do. What is their problem? Wouldn't they be happy to see me happy? Am I not allowed to indulge in my freedom? So it shouldn't be called freedom anymore. More like "depressdom". And no its not a real word. And speaking of the heading of this paragraph, we don't ask to be brought to this world. And because of this, don't you think we deserve to be given a chance to choose our preferred sex?

4. Pursuit for happiness. Lost cause.
It's either you get it or you don't. There's no in between. You think there's a middle but, unfortunately, there isn't. And if u think 'content' means being happy with what you have [and not wishing for more], it actually means being satisfied in a limited way. Therefore, you pine for something. You long for that which is missing. You want that void to be filled. I guess that is the middle after all. I'm going to name it "The O.K. State".

You can run for it, fight for it, plead and beg for it, but happiness doesn't give out passes that easily to watch it shine in all its glory. Gotta be damn lucky I'd say. But it all comes with a price too.

'Fine' is a word used frequently. Is a word abused, more likely. And with this I shall end this note.

Sure this may not be so note-like. More are coming up though, entirely for your viewing and reading pleasure.

Solitary Solitaire

2009-06-09T03:28:00.002+05:00

Definition of Solitaire:
1. (n.) A single diamond in a setting; also, sometimes, a precious stone of any kind set alone.
2. (n.) Any species of American thrushlike birds of the genus Myadestes. They are noted their sweet songs and retiring habits. Called also fly-catching thrush. A West Indian species (Myadestes sibilans) is called the invisible bird.
3. (n.) A person who lives in solitude; a recluse; a hermit.
4. (n.) A game which one person can play alone; -- applied to many games of cards, etc.; also, to a game played on a board with pegs or balls, in which the object is, beginning with all the places filled except one, to remove all but one of the pieces by "jumping," as in draughts.
5. (n.) A large extinct bird (Pezophaps solitaria) which formerly inhabited the islands of Mauritius and Rodrigeuz. It was larger and taller than the wild turkey. Its wings were too small for flight. Called also solitary.

Quite interesting as how there are two types of birds also named solitaire. They must have lived lone lives. Obviously with their lonely partner - or partners.. threesome?

Sure it gets tiring wen all you have is your 10 hrs-a-week-job, too many demanding friends, only coffees or bike rides to while away your time. I'm trying to learn to cook new stuff now besides pasta/spaghetti/noodles/various types of omelets. And new desserts too.. I only know biscuit pudding and French toast. I once tried to make a blueberry cheesecake and it tasted so bad but still my family ate half of it to make me happy. Like I am only 3 years old.

It's frustrating when loneliness eats you up. To put on your happy face but it's not your face anymore, its just a mask. And when nothin, anybody does to please you, actually pleases you. When pessimism and paranoia eats you up. When it all feels like a crazy circus that you're stuck in and you can't get out of, and the clowns keep dancing around till your head is spinning and you're convinced that you really are going crazy.

SO. what do you do?

This is probably part 1. if there's a part 2, I'll post it titled Solitary Soitaire II.

Descriptions & Questions

2007-11-22T08:15:00.001+05:00

wool scarf purple IS IT PiNK? soft scratchy HOLES knitted IS IT VIOLET? needles DID IT COME FROM SHEEP? pattern warmth WOVEN furry BLURRY CircleS ARE THEY KNOTTED?

Never Have Too Much F.A.I.T.H.

2007-11-21T00:22:00.001+05:00

you know what happens when you have too much F.A.I.T.H.? you lose, big time, and it hurts so bad u feel like that saw just sawed you in half, eh?

i had an overload, excess, too much of faith for the past few years.. that the sun will always shine its light on everything, and even if there was a dark spot where a ray could not reach, one day it too will get some light. that things wud forever be good and there wud be no harm, evil, or badness in this alien-antennaed world. i probably wud have gone my entire life being sweet, innocent and naive had it not been for the very good men i've had in my life so far. they've taught me wat it feels like to grieve. wat it feels like for them to one day just turn around and slap my face hard and say "haha, you're screwed!".

note: if u have the time, listen to "Light Years Away" by MoZella. i love the lyrics and love the song. maybe i might upload it onto this page.

seriously, i put way too much faith in things.. too much of my time and energy. it all goes down the drain, into the sewage, thru the pipes and into whatever type of water body they get thrown into. sometimes i think that i've lost every last bit of my faith and hope. cos seriously.. trusting is never a good thing. when its a good thing, something bad is gonna happen.

i'm turnin into quite a pessimistic little drag. i'm not going to depress you anymore. good night! i'm off to la la land.

i think my steering wheel is broken

2007-10-30T04:35:00.000+05:00

it's no use preparing yourself for what might come, cos you never know what would. there's a dozen possibilities what you are bracing yourself for could be.

i thought this out so carefully before i took a deep breath and jumped into the open waters. apparently i hadn't had thought enough. this is starting to look like a lost case now. no matter how much i swim towards the island, i don't think that i'm getting any nearer. i don't know. maybe it's because i'm tired... maybe i'm losing all my energy and strength from focusing on this. or maybe i'm not swimming fast and strong enough? i really don't know. all i know is that i'm tired from chasing things that i can never catch. catching things that i can never keep for long. it's never fair is it? i don't want to feel like a dog anymore because i've had enough of being treated like one.

and just when i thought the sea wasn't so rough, that it was calming down after so many months of endless storms, it is roughing up again. perhaps my compass is broken and i'm going in the wrong direction. or my steering wheel is broken. either that or i really am out of luck.

as yet i need to figure out what i want to do with myself. quite frankly i've lost hope and the eagerness that i used to have. i've wasted all of my energy on people and things that weren't worth of it. dreams that won't ever come true because i have dreams that are far too big for a tiny person like myself. but people say dreaming big is never a bad thing. or is it?

Only Fools Fall in Love

2007-10-20T04:12:00.000+05:00

Nah that's not true... not only fools it is, idiots too. =) We are allowed to control our external organs, but not internal. Of course it is impossible in some ways, but I really wish we could control our heart and mind, because those two gets us in really tight fixes sometimes. Like right now, for instance… well not really a tight fix, but… For the past few years all I wanted was to feel free, loved but not owned, and to not be committed. I finally get everything and then my heart decides to go head over heels. And blasting head over heels I am… I’ve been waiting for a text reply for the past 5 hrs, then I called but there is no answer, and now I’m in a crummy mood with no desire to explain to myself why I’m letting this happen, when in-fact there is no need for that.

It’s been 2 years since I haven’t let myself go like this. I’ve always been in control. Nobody could come too near or get too distant. If they want to be distant, fine. Who am I kidding? I'm never in control, but then again, who is? Normally people are quite in control of their emotions but mine always over-ride, its in constant flow, and sometimes I think I have too much of its.

It's good to be in love eh? Though I hate days like this, it still is. I maybe a fool, I maybe an idiot, but this thing is really beautiful when it is on the right side and goes the right way. Nothing matters when I'm with him.. All worldly thoughts fade away.. I could lie with him for hours on end and never feel a fraction of boredom. Sigh... What is wrong with me? Believe me I really tried to hold back but didn't work. Which brings me to my point earlier that we can't control our heart and mind, our emotions... though seroiusly we should be able to!

I'm tired. Have to wake up early to go to hospital and it's already 5.10 am. Space out!

My Mom the Mosquito Murderer

2007-07-28T00:28:00.002+05:00

WARNING : the following story contains painstaking details, might be a bit depressing too. readers who are taking anti-depressants, please do not read this post. i strongly advice you to go read something like Cinderella or Snow White. or something about rainbows and butterflies and strawberry flavored lolly pops and cotton candy.

intro:
i actually wanted to write 'My Mom the Mosquito Killer'.. but decided another word starting from 'M' would look better. or perhaps 'The Tale of the Courageous Mosquito' would have also been quite fitting. kindly read on please, this is an intriguing story about one particular hero of the notoriously miniscule creatures that annoy us 24 hrs a day, 365 days a year. and so the story goes like this...

main:
once upon a time there was a fierce little lady, who is 4 ft 10 inches tall. she is mean, she is muscly, she is strong and she is wrong (some of the times anyway). She is... My Mom the Mosquito Murderer! day and night, dawn and dusk, mosquitoes flee from this fearsome lady. "POP!" there goes the life of yet another heroic mosquito who tried to brave the ruthless swatting.

weak and feeble, the poor insects fall one by one onto the floor. some stayed stuck between the fatal silver rods of the tennis racket that had looked so harmless at first, but not anymore. "No!, this was enough", thought a mosquito who was rather huge in comparison to its fellow beings.

eyebrow furrowed - do they even have eyebrows?? - legs tucked in, body in 'bombs away!' position, the determined Mozzie charged at the electric racket, mind made up that somehow it was going to destroy the damned thing once and for all. little did it know, its fate was to be the same as the fellow mosquitoes who had preceded him.

it was as if in slow motion that i saw, my mom's hand clutched around the racket, making a swiping movement in the air, the humongous Mozzie approaching from the other side, then the split-second heart-stopping moment when i thought that it had actually managed to dodge the racket but soon i found out that that was not at all what had happened. what had actually happened was that the insect had come charging at the racket and stupidly banged into it, and as a result had been thrown back by the force of the slam.

the poor thing felt like its puny brain was spinning madly inside its skull. nauseatingly dizzy, it turned back around to face its deadly enemy - and i could hear a quiet buzzing sound. i saw my mom's eyes narrow and slyly look to her left. "have mercy on the pathetic creature", i thought as i realized that she located her next target, but unfortunately thoughts didn't get printed out in the air in a speech/thought bubble. no, they merely stayed inside my frantic mind.

with all its might and what was left of its bravery, the mosquito charged at the ominous implement, sure that somehow it was going to over-come this vicious battle. sadly enough, it wasn't as lucky as the previous time. with a deafening "POP" that rang in my ears even days after that fateful day, i saw the massive arthropod fall lifelessly to the ground. for a brief moment i thought that it was toast , when i saw one of its almost-invisible legs twitch one last time. with that heart shattering move, i literally felt its soul leaving its limp body. there was no more to this fighter than there were of the others.

"and what a fighter he was!", i thought to myself, wiping tears away. he could have inspired many of the generations that would follow, he could have formed his own tiny army of Mozzies, and taught them how to tackle the fearsome, the doomed, the SINISTER RACKET. (NOTE TO READERS: kindly imagine sounds of thunder and the spine-tingling craks of lightening bolts on a very stormy night with ferocious winds beating down on your windows.)

outro:
and there we have it... the story of a true mosquitriot ©, it's determination and courage that had lead it to wage a war with one of its enemies. I shall remember his heroic efforts until the day I die.

~ In Loving Memory of Mosquito - R.I.P ~

We are Strangers within Strangers

2007-07-20T03:19:00.000+05:00

we are all strangers in strangers.. aren't we? maybe not so from where i come from.. but certainly in other places..

every face is different.. every pair of eyes has seen a different side to life, has seen the world in another way, and some have not seen at all, some have not heard at all, some have never felt... for they were numb..

Lost

2007-07-15T20:12:00.000+05:00

when the rain comes, when the rain goes
when its all clear and nothing shows
light your cigarette,
smoke me up till nothing's left
i'm just a bit of ash in your life

when it's dark, there's no light
you can't see where you're going
but do you know? would you know?
when it's cold, and there's no warmth

i have nothing left
and we both know what is right
we know what is wrong
and we know what we gotta do
we have nothing left
all we had is lost on us

today just seems like any other day
mindlessly i sit and watch it go by
sunlight fades into a starry night
and the starry night fades back into sunlight

its not being surrounded by people
its not being the center of attention
if you can tell the difference between your thoughts and what is real
then it's real enough for me

London Blues

2007-06-18T20:11:00.001+05:00

Here we are, going to London in a week's time.. and everything's just messy.

I stammer and I forget what I’m supposed to be saying when I’m nervous. I seriously doubt it won’t happen this time; when I’m faced by hundreds of Europeans with God-awful accents and asking them to repeat their questions because I can’t understand whatever it is that they’re saying. Ok - so maybe not God-awful accents - but still... hmmm.. come to think of it they are kind of attractive. And of course, I’ve never been a big talker so I’m not so sure how I’m gonna manage. *DEEP BREATH*

Ok, so this afternoon I was walking around going into tourist shops on a brainstorming session with my Samoan co-worker. Coming up with great ideas... but at this last minute I'm not so sure how we can put it all together.

This is getting depressing... day by day... I'm not sure if I'm cut out for this kind of job. I don't want to be the leader because I'm perfectly happy with working behind the scenes. Some people just do not understand how I can possibly want this. Not everyone is a born leader (note: research shows that first born child is usually a leader and this is true as my sister is such a role playing person and I'm not. And I'm the youngest).

I know at the beginning when you are starting a career and trying to build it you really have to give your 150% but I think I have and I think I'm just draining out right now.

The problem with me is once I feel that I dislike something, there is no way to turn back and even try liking it. But I'm trying so hard to convince myself right now... Whatever it is... I hope I come out of this.

Mulsifid

2007-06-17T21:06:00.000+05:00

You may be wondering what in the world “Mulsifid” is. It is similar [spelling wise] to ‘emulsified’, yet when I made up this word in 2004; ‘emulsified’ was not even in my vocabulary. Well it actually was but it relates more to the Chemistry subject and therefore I chose to push it out of my mind.

The Founding of “Mulsifid”

It was a hot sunny day, (date unknown but in 2004) and I was stuck inside the class. I’m not sure if it was Chemistry, or Dhivehi or some other stupid subject I was forced to study, but I had my sweet little Barefoot diary (date will be known when I look into this little book) on my desk and kept on furiously scribbling utter nonsense into it.

“… a notch higher to the 70th Armenian Mulsifid.” Was what I wrote in one of the 3 little pieces that starts with an “Om…”. (Those 3 little pieces will be posted here too). While writing these pieces, I imagine those Indian dudes with long white beards that sit cross-legged with the middle finger and thumb touching each other saying “Om…” and meditating. Those of you who have watched ‘Goodness Gracious Me!’ would know exa-cata-caly [exactly] what I’m talking about.

And so, there we have it, how “Mulsifid” came to be.