Tuesday, November 27, 2007



CLEMENTINE: Sometimes I think people don't understand how lonely it is to be a kid,
like you don't matter. So, I'm eight, and I have these toys, these dolls.
My favorite is this ugly girl doll who I call Clementine,
and I keep yelling at her, "You can't be ugly! Be pretty!"
It's weird, like if I can transform her, I would magically change, too.


from the movie: Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

0 lend me some sugar.

:) ...

I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waitin in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
Theres nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but theres no sound

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you
________________




im looking for a place
searching for a face
is anybody here i know
cause nothings going right
and everythigns a mess
and no one likes to be alone

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you

"I'm With You"
I'm Standing on a bridge
I'm waitin in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
Theres nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but theres no sound

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you

im looking for a place
searching for a face
is anybody here i know
cause nothings going right
and everythigns a mess
and no one likes to be alone

Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you

oh why is everything so confusing
maybe I'm just out of my mind
yea yea yea

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you

Take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I dont know who you are
but I... I'm with you
I'm with you


_
im with you by avril lavigne
[dedicated]

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Monday, November 26, 2007


0 lend me some sugar.

The Second Child-
Deborah Garrison

I've forgotten so much,
what it felt like back then,
what we said to each other.

but sometimes when I'm standing
at the kitchen counter after dinner
and i look out the window at the dark

thinking of nothing,
something swims up.
Tonight this:

your laughing into my mouth
as you were trying
to kiss me.

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The Love Song
of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

...

I am no prophet -- and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

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Friday, November 23, 2007

[i sway wherever you will go -the calling]
[i stray mmm oh yea today i cooked 'chanay ki daal ka halwa'
ohkie let me take some pictures of it n i'll be back to publish this piece of.. post then. hehh:P]














well heck, it IS the internet.
i feel disconnected with.

i kept writing in all these days.. was just saving my venoms in form of drafts. i kept saving my favourite piece of verses, sestinas..lyrics. i kept collecting those excerpts. hmm blogger offers a range of options. Options' that my life never offers me.

blah blah blah.. just bitching about the same old things i guess, not worth writing about. i can't tell how much i cringe while reading some of these posts. they are bad, i know. they make me want to delete delete delete. but dont worry dear non-existent readers n my darling yellowlane, i won't do so. i'll keep my horribly written n poorly constructed writings for all of the world..for generations n generations to come. maybe one day, long after i'm gone, people will uncover these posts and some of them may attempt to understand just what the fcuk was wrong with me.... maybe you're one of those people.

oh well, yea, i suppose i'll finish it some day. but before that i have more than chapters to give! you just stay with me. tell me you just STILL luves me.


_
in all the past few days.. i was not dead, and probably wont' be for a good long while. just thought YOU might want to know that. im completely contented. thats just a way of my incoherent writings. don't mind.

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What type of Fae are you?

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"He's had a near-death experience!"
"We all have. It's called Living."


-



Worlds of belief, she thought. Just like oysters. A little piece of shit gets in and then a pearl grows up around it.


-



YOU COULDN'T RESIST IT? IN THE END? A MISTAKE, I FANCY.
IT GETS UNDER YOUR SKIN, LIFE. Said Death, stepping forward. SPEAKING METAPHORICALLY, OF COURSE. IT'S A HABIT THAT'S HARD TO GIVE UP. ONE PUFF OF BREATH IS NEVER ENOUGH. YOU'LL FIND YOU WANT TO TAKE ANOTHER.
AND, YOU SEE, THE MORE YOU STRUGGLE FOR EVERY MOMENT, THE MORE ALIVE YOU STAY...WHICH IS WHERE I COME IN, AS A MATTER OF FACT.
FEAR, TOO, IS AN ANCHOR, said Death, ALL THOSE SENSES, WIDE OPEN TO EVERY FRAGMENT OF THE WORLD.
THAT BEATING HEART. THAT RUSH OF BLOOD. AN YOU NOT FEEL IT, DRAGGING YOU BACK?



Hogfather, Terry Pratchett

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“Do you still dream of that night?”

Not father in my dreams anymore
but Shahrukh Kahn in that movie,
manly face pinched by that half-pout,

cute as the son whose entreaties
would make his mother
or any woman smile, Shahrukh Kahn

teasing a laugh out from the neighbour’s
daughter whom he loves.
Mr Devdas in my bed and not

father upon me, whispering:
Don’t worry, don’t move, this won’t
hurt, ok? No longer

that initial horror, but simply
shock dissipating
quickly into pleasure, an echo

of love numbing the mind, occluding
shame. The first time, I remember,
I failed to cry, because as far

as I could see, that night,
there was no cause, only
a car’s passing headlight

piercing the unmetaphorical
dark of a boy’s bedroom.
A curious hunger

spent, balled up in tissue paper
he forgot to discard, left on the floor,
the smell of it

staining the air, the present, and
future remembrances
of those long, wakeful hours. Not

Shahrukh, but father
cleaning me up now, his face
crumpled by that grimace,

a constant hiss between his teeth,
rubbing tissue across my stomach,
his hand a wet clamp on my thigh.

Not even mummy, ok?
And not any of your friends...
Look at me on the bed,

this boy stripped of sleep, under
a man who insisted he loved him
again and again

till there was no choice but to feel it
surge from the centre of him,
springing free like an animal out of a fire.



- Cyril Wong (Copyright 2007)

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Monday, November 19, 2007

tere harf-o-lub ka tilsam tha `meri aab-o-taab mein reh gaya
woh kisi gulaab ka jism tha `jo meri kitaab mein reh gaya

meri baat baat mein roshni `mere harf harf mein dilkashi
tu mere shareek-e-visaal-e-jaan `meri her kitaab mein reh gaya

koi phool khil kay bikhar gaya `koi baat bun ker bigar gyee
na sawaaal koi laboo'n pe hai `na gila jawaab mein reh gaya

dil-e-khush'gumaan teri khair ho `tu hai phir yaqeen ki salaib per
tujhay phir kisi se shikayatein `tu issi azaab mein reh gaya

tujhay kya mila dil-e-mubtila `na koi dua na kahin wafa
magar ek yersa-e-raigaa'n `jo tere hisaab mein reh gaya

woh jo mera ehd-e-jamaal tha `woh jo mera sheher-e-khayaal tha
kay ab uss ka ziker-e-kamaal bhi `kaheen harf-e-khuwaab mein reh gaya



_____________

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Saturday, November 17, 2007


C h i l l'ghoazay ............... :P

[Picture taken by jia] YUMMM YO LUV! :D

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taare zameen par - shankar mahadevan
[download] - lyrics here
OST: taare zameen par

[the song is originally dedicated to a dyslexic child]
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

tum kaisi muhabbat kertay ho..
by lucky ali (Paki) - [download]
[left click n scroll down the page for it]
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

1973
by James blunt
[download]

Simona
You're getting older
Your journey's been
Etched on your skin

Simona
Wish I had known that
What seemed so strong
Has been and gone

Simona
Wish I was sober
So I could see clearly now
The rain has gone

Simona
I guess it's over
My memory plays our tune
The same old song

I would call you up everyday Saturday night
And we both stayed out 'til the morning light
And we sang, "Here we go again"
And though time goes by
I will always be
In a club with you
In 1973
Singing "Here we go again"


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The History of Love -
by Nicole Krauss

An hour or two went by. It must have been a good conversation, because the next thing he knew Alma has told him to close his eyes. Then she kissed him. Her kiss was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering. He felt his body shaking. He was scared he was about to lose control of his muscles. For anyone else, it was one thing, but for him it wasn’t so easy, because this man believed- and had believed for as long as he could remember- that part of him was made of glass. He imagined a wrong move in which he fell and shattered in front of her. He pulled away, even though he didn’t want to. He smiled at Alma’s feet, hoping she’d understand. They talked for hours.

That night he went home full of joy. He couldn’t sleep, so excited was he for the next day when he and Alma had a date to go to the movies. He picked her up the following evening and gave her a bunch of yellow daffodils. At the theater, he fought–and triumphed over! –the perils of sitting. He watched the whole movie leaning forward, so that his weight was resting on the underside of his thighs and not on the part of him that was made of glass. If Alma noticed she didn’t say. He moved his knee a little, and a little more, until it was resting against hers. He was sweating. When the movie was over, he had no idea what it had been about. He suggested they take a walk through the park. This time it was he who stopped, took Alma in his arms, and kissed her. When his knees started to shake and he pictured himself lying in splinters of glass, he fought the urge to pull away. He ran his fingers down her spine over her thin blouse, and for a moment he forgot the danger he was in, grateful for the world which purposefully puts divisions in place so that we can overcome them, feeling he joy of getting closer, even if deep down we can never forget the sadness of our insurmountable differences. Before he knew it, he was shaking violently. He seized his muscles to try to stop. Alma felt his hesitation. She leaned back and looked at him with something like hurt, and then he almost but didn’t say the two sentences he’d been meaning to say for years: Part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.

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The Ghost of Foghorn Leghorn
Speaks of Unrequited Love

I said, listen to me, boy. Only the stars know.
And now you, fidgeting in all the air
like you fear for your neck. Still,
you're young and youth explains away all,
except love. My love. I've a gift
but not for this. It speaks like a house fire.

Or a bullet into a bowl of oatmeal. If fired,
you've got a mess. And I do, I know,
and not one I thought I wanted, like a gift.
Stay with me, son. I'm not wasting air
for your benefit alone. I said, that's all,
and walked off, shaking. It's hard to be still.

It's hard to know how to be still.
When I was little I felt I'd catch fire
if I was too quiet. Nothing's changed at all.
There's nothing worse than to know
my smoke signals go unheeded in the air—
she won't look, speak, accept the gift

I made for her. Her going is my gift.
All that I'll keep. Out to an old still
I'd go and drink until I forget it's air
I need to live, air that fills me now like fire
nothing can douse. For all I know,
the ground beneath me is burned beyond all

knowing. Any of this getting through all
that thick head, boy? Love isn't a gift.
Way off, you're way off. I know
you hope it's feathers flying and time stood still,
crowing from the roof, and gun-fire
meant to silence your song on the night air.

You're not listening. That's just hot air.
It's torture. You're finished, once and for all.
You might as well be old rags in a fire.
I'll say it again: love wasn't a gift
when I fell flat and hard upon it, and still,
I won't dare let it go. It's all I know—

like the air or the sound of my voice, my gift,
all bluster and not a bit of it still.
This fire could burn me alive. Who'd know?



Paul Guest

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Thursday, November 15, 2007

[listening to we ride -rihanna]
[mood way much lighter than i was dwelling in these past few weeks]

Words of luv and words so leisured, words are poison darts of pleasure ...
so.. from now on, im assuming that you are dead to me. now all i was looking, searching, waiting, writing, kissing, missing,fcuking, digging, remembering, dreaming, pitying, cursing, luving, caring, hugging, pissing, praying for ..n in all the rest of the world's present participles' in my life or of my life (in my writings also) , i'll suppose as im talking about a dead lost spirit. the LATE you.

n now, all the lines of communication are deleted/blocked. therer is no way to reach me.

after years of telling
THE you
my thoughts.

i want to keep my secrets.
i don't recognize you in person anymore.


you know only that a few hours before, it was yesterday; a few later, it will be tomorrow. :)


_
by the way, today was nice. bhai was at home. we watched the India Pakistan 4th ODI cric match together. then in evenning, he took me out for a long drive n we talked over a lot of stuff, n then that unique delicious dessert im failing to recall the name right now. i finished the night (n not to mention my same stooopid thoughts) with watching the om shanti om alone, waisay there was nothing exceptional in movie except the SRK himself n his heroine was pretty too, but i think the 'Bhool bhulaiyaan was way too much better to watch as compared to om shanti om. but oh well, sharukh khan? ... :)

_
umm..does anyone ask for the phone numbers? hehe! i don't have them anymore.
n im thinkging to restrict the yellowlane to my chosen readers only.


yours sincerely,
neurotica

3:39a



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
well, for the pictures of my day? ...
yea i bought this new shade of brown nailpaint.

n for that KUTTAY KA BACHA ... haha.. believe it or not, i have been sleeping with him lately . yea he is sooooo teeeny meeny n i hardly be about to hug him properly that is before falling asleep eh. oh how i luv to hold him! you'll never know how it feels. =D

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Tuesday, November 13, 2007

[download]
Big yellow taxi -by counting crows


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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God put a smile upon my face *

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Monday, November 12, 2007

[i sway tumse hee -jub we met]
[i stray tell me about the time you .... ]


of late, i have been weighed down by emotions, you know. when it's not time for dreams, it's time for memories. it's been about the past and the future. the present, of course, is as it always has been.

transitions have always made me uneasy. it's no different this time.

i find myself wanting to let go of a lot of things, only to cling on to them just when it's time to throw them away. cards, letters, memoirs from people i haven't even been in touch with for over a decade and a half... .... presents from people i parted on not-so-good terms. and the hardest of them all -- memories. how do i purge my mind of those memories? i want to, i really do.



~*~*~*~*~*~
Happy Birthday Nadia. :)

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"tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.
how it was late, and noone could sleep, the horses running until they forgot that they are horses.
it's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it's more like a song on a policemans radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.
look at the light through the windowpane. that means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable.
tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. these, our bodies, posessed by light. tell me we'll never get used to it. "


Richard Siken

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"I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time."

--1950-07-07

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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By your side - sade
[one of my all .. lifetime favourite songs]
[is dedicated]

_
You think I'd leave your side baby?
You know me better than that
You think I'd leave down when your down on your knees?
I wouldn't do that

I'll do you right when your wrong
I-----ohhh, ohhh

If only you could see into me

oh, when your cold
I'll be there to hold you tight to me
When your on the outside baby and you can't get in
I will show you, your so much better than you know
When your lost, when your alone and you can't get back again
I will find you darling I'll bring you home

If you want to cry
I am here to dry your eyes
and in no time you'll be fine

You think I'd leave your side baby
You know me better than that
You think I'd leave you down when your down on your kness
I wouldn't do that

I'll do you right when your wrong
I-----I, ohhhh, ohhh

If only you could see into me

Oh when your cold
I'll be there
To hold you tight to me
Oh when your alone
I'l be there by your side baby

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Saturday, November 10, 2007



okie yellowlane.. so ... howdee? :)

see.. jia planted seeds of bullock's heart (custard apple) yesterday.

this is my first time growing anything. n yesterday i grew it with a date on the pot.

ofcourse, i had my reasons na. :)





_
in a lil hurry.. will talk to you later yellowlane!

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Friday, November 09, 2007



awwwhh.. :)

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hum jeet gaye!!!!!!

YAHOOOOHH!!


uff.. kabhi kabhi kitni ulti pulti cheezein bhi insaan kay undar kitni saari khushi bhar daiti haina :D

n i really really reeaally missed .xecutioner. to share my happiness with `emm. :D



_
http://content-www.cricinfo.com/indvpak/content/story/318926.html

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Thursday, November 08, 2007


Picture of the day.. :)

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"Love. Who knows about another's love? The more you love, the more you know the burnt out loss of love, the more you heed the silence of unknowing in the face of another's spiritual bondage."

"I stood hold her. Where was my lust? The blood tempest that sweeps into its vortex all desire to know, to absorb, to abide, to possess, to kill, to love? It was a drenching storm inside of me. But I am so very strong. That is a given, is it not? And when you love another as I loved her, you don't strive to hurt. Never. The trivial operations of the heart are burnt away in quietude. Burnt away in humility that I could feel this, know this, and contain it within my prudent soul."


Anne Rice - Blood Canticle

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aao ... kho jain hum, ho jain hum yun laa'pata
aao ... meelo'n chalein, jana kahan na ho pata

bethay bethay aisay kaisay koi rusta naya sa milay?
tu bhi chalay mei bhi chalon hongay kum yeh tubhi faaslay

aao ... mil jaiga hoga jahan pe raasta
aao meeloo'n chalein, jana kahan na ho pata


hum jo chalnay lagay, chalnay lagay hain yeh raastay
manzil se behtar lugnay lagay hain yeh raastay ..

aao ... kho jain hum, ho jain hum yun laa'pata
aao ... meelo'n chalein, jana kahan na ho pata


aao meelo'n chalein - shan
OST: jub we met - [download]



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[listening to agar pyaar (orig. version) -ali haider]


you can tell when any animal is confused

the stress is taking a toll on me, badly.
i cant digest anymore, literally. but i dont want to lose it .... i don't need this. i can beg sadly i guess, but its not stopping it. it's not working.

i cannot take the easy option. i can not run away n become someone else. i have to deal with everything here n now. i have to suffer. and i fcuking deserve it.

i don't know why do i even bother trying to sort this shit out. why do i even care if it hurts? im a weirdo . what the hell am i doing here? stupidstupidstupid! i got to be stronger.


its like old times again.

_
i miss hamster.

3:40a

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Sms of the ...

.tumhay nahi pata k mujh mein kisi nay itni bitterness bhar di hai? Tumhay waqai nahe pata abt all those variables$constants cz of which im lyk this!!


.tumhay tou khush hona chahiye jia!! tumhari tou sari duain qabool hogaen hongi..

.tumhay bataon mei k mei kitna fair ho gaya hon? bataon kay woh sub jo kul mere against thay aj kis haal mein hain? tumhay mei vo sab kuch bataon jo meinay tumhay kabhi nahe bataya aur hamesha chup raha!!



aZ!
november '07

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Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Apologize
by: Timbaland feat. one republic
[download]

I'm holding on your rope
Got me ten feet off the ground
And I'm hearing what you say
But I just can't make a sound
You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down
But wait...
You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around and say..

That it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
(But that's nothing new)
Yeah yeah

I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue
And you say
Sorry like the Angel Heaven let me think was you,
But I'm afraid

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, yeah yeah
I said it's too late to apologize, a yeah

I'm holding your rope
Got me ten feet off the ground...

0 lend me some sugar.


by: James Galvin


Dear May Eighth

Why was the last kiss May seventh
And so shy?

Your tongue was skittish.

Your clavicle—
Door-bolt, little key,
Tendril—
Was the world's crosstree—
Your collarbone was hot snow to touch.

I wanted to say commitment,
And so I was committed,
And so I did commit
Crimes against the immaculate.

Clavicle, clavichord,
Gold keys falling through me cold.

You explain
The sky I spent my life under,
The bottom of the ocean
That packed up and left.

You say its the basin that makes the sky a bay.

The sunset plans its palette, its deployment.

It hasn't decided the denouement—
It's breathless....

Listen, Nobody's Business,
Why aren't you in love with me?


Is your overture over-subtle
Like this sunset—
White clavicle under gray thunderheads,
Cobalt throbs?

Streaky northern billows
And reds thrum into music—clavichord.

Then—get this—
Red cliff
Is palindromed,
Butterflied, flayed,
In strata of lenticulars.

Rain rains down
Blue-black on earth
And sends riders, striders,
Bruisy yellow,
Blood in a stream,
Back to the eastern horizon—
Where I kissed you.

If you would wake with me
I'd know how to die.

Yours, May eighth,
Sincerely,
Man under influence of sky.

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Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Twinkle Twinkle

twinkle twinkle little scar
how i wonder whose you are
up above the world so high
where i see no tear and no cry
down here on me ,
you shine and always smile!


-
Stolen from Mir's blog.

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[i stray pata nahe kya.. despair i think]
[i sway deadman walking (a dream like this) -mary chapin carpenter]

see, its serious. its keeping me up at night, its making me cry, its insisting that i don't stay sober, and of course i follow suit. last i checked, i was a victim, wasn't i?

why the fcuk am i getting threats, why the fcuk am i getting msgs in my bronzed evenings, international calls at 2 a.m, torturing me until i cry myself to take pills,, numbing the body unwantedly?

i hate you i hate you i hate you.
for making me feel so uneasy. :)

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Monday, November 05, 2007

Night of the day...

but i don't know how not to luv you. know then, that as much as i might want not to luv you, and as much as i might want to get over you and forget you, i still luv you, perhaps even more strongly than i did when we were together.

You are forgiven.
no, you don't know.


-
i wish i were pretty.
i wish i didn't feel like im slowly being drained from the inside out.

P.s. dear self, please feel better tomorrow. study hard for your exams. watch the ODI cricket and.. survive. please.
no! Don't stop now! i need you! why do you stop dead every November?! WHY!

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Sunday, November 04, 2007


Pervez Musharraf (left) swears in new Chief Justice Abdul Hameed Dogar - 3/11/2007

Gen Musharraf moved quickly to appoint a new chief justice


Musharraf
defiant

Profile: Pervez Musharraf
Reaction in quotes



Last Updated: Sunday, 4
November 2007, 00:10 GMT


Musharraf defends emergency rule

Pakistan's President Pervez Musharraf has defended his decision to
declare emergency rule, saying he could not allow the country to commit
suicide.

In a televised address he said Pakistan had reached a crisis brought
about by militant violence and a judiciary which had paralysed the
government.


The chief justice has been replaced and the Supreme Court surrounded
by troops.

The moves came as the Supreme Court was due to rule on the legality
of Gen Musharraf's October election victory.


The court was to decide whether Gen Musharraf was eligible to run for
re-election last month while remaining army chief.


The BBC's Barbara Plett reports from Islamabad that fears had been
growing in the government that the Supreme Court ruling could go against
Gen Musharraf.

It is not clear whether the parliamentary elections due in January
will go ahead. Gen Musharraf made no mention of them in his speech, but
he insisted he wanted to restore democracy.


Suicide warning


Pakistan has been engulfed in political upheaval in recent months,
and the security forces have suffered a series of blows from pro-Taleban
militants opposed to Gen Musharraf's support for the US-led "war on
terror".

In a lengthy televised speech late on Saturday, Mr Musharraf said the
situation had forced him into making "some very painful decisions".

"I suspect that Pakistan's sovereignty is in danger unless timely
action is taken," he said.


He insisted his decisions were made for the benefit of Pakistan.

"Extremists are roaming around freely in the country, and they are
not scared of law-enforcement agencies," the president said.


As well as defending emergency rule to the Pakistani people, Gen
Musharraf also appealed directly to his Western allies for patience.

"Kindly understand the criticality of the situation in Pakistan and
around Pakistan. Pakistan is on the verge of destabilisation," he said.

"Inaction at this moment is suicide for Pakistan and I cannot allow
this country to commit suicide."


Condemnation


Former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, who recently returned to the
country after years of self-exile to lead her party in planned
parliamentary elections, was in Dubai on a personal visit when news of
the declaration broke.

However, she immediately flew back to Karachi where she condemned Gen Musharraf's decision, saying emergency rule had been imposed so
elections could be avoided.

In pictures: Emergency rule
Declaration: Full text




Analysis: Next moves
Reaction in quotes

Labels:

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Saturday, November 03, 2007

A Story About the Body

The young composer, working that summer at an artist's colony, had watched her for a week. She was Japanese, a painter, almost sixty, and he thought he was in love with her. He loved her work, and her work was like the way she moved her body, used her hands, looked at him directly when she made amused and considered answers to his questions. One night, walking back from a concert, they came to her door and she turned to him and said, "I think you would like to have me. I would like that too, but I must tell you that I have had a double mastectomy," and when he didn't understand, "I've lost both my breasts." The radiance that he had carried around in his belly and chest cavity - like music - withered very quickly, and he made himself look at her when he said, "I'm sorry. I don't think I could." He walked back to his own cabin through the pines, and in the morning he found a small blue bowl on the porch outside his door. It looked to be full of rose petals, but he found when he picked it up that the rose petals were on top; the rest of the bowl - she must have swept them from the corners of her studio - was full of dead bees.

-Robert Haas

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Here with me - dido

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Lillian Gish Goes to Hell
Richard Siken

But she has been there before, has a suite
in fact, where she can swan and collapse
on a series of fainting couches: velveteen,
plush, gem-colored. In 1913, during the
production of A Good Little Devil, Lillian
collapsed from anemia. She took delight in
suffering for art. Although not a religious
man, Sartre was fascinated by suffering
as well, said Hell is other people and meant it.
Some like to suffer and some try to eliminate
desire. Buddha, God bless him, had a great
idea: whatever is subject to change is subject to
suffering. But let’s face it, he was fat and sat
around in his underwear, while we delight
in changing our wardrobes. You, terrible
in your solitude. Me, ruined and desperate
in my cowboy shirt with the pearly buttons
and significant stitching. We can suffer with
the best of them, Lil, effortlessly working off
our karma as the drunken father breaks down
the wooden door, or we roam, dying, through
the streets of Montmartre. I am no stranger
to love and I am not waiting for you, because
I believe we will be reborn, because I believe
everything, and I believe that we will meet
again and suffer together again. The future
belongs to China and yet I want to learn
French. This, too, is another kind of suffering.
Once, at a truck stop, I ate an entire banana
cream pie and half a pound of bacon, which
is a kind of suffering for some, but I felt
fucking great. You know this, you must know
this. We are lovely and full of desire, we die
so many times and come back here, to cross
paths. I didn’t fall off the roof, I was pushed.
I want neither revenge nor relief. I crave no
rescue. What I want, Lillian, is to be gigantic
and perfectly lit, to be with you again, carnal
in our reincarnation. The future will find us
handsome taikonauts in a small ship spinning
out of control, flawed by love and plunging
realistically toward the heart of a hellish sun.
In the future we will suffer together in outer
space and eat crème brûlée out of a silver tube.
The novelty never wears off, Lil. It never does.

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Friday, November 02, 2007

O-V-E-R MY H-E-A-D

_
by: The Fray
[download]
lyric leftovers here

Let's rearrange
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage
Just say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along
But that's disregard
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind
She's on your mind

And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and its effortless
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down
I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves

And everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind
She's on your mind

Everyone knows
She's on your mind
Everyone knows I'm in over my head
I'm in over my head
I'm in over...

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind
She's on your mind

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Thursday, November 01, 2007

yahan mai'nee ka bay'soorut sila nahe
ujub kuch meinay soucha hai likha nahe
hain sub ek dosray ki justuju mein
magar koi kisi ko mila nahe

kabhi khud se muker janay mein kya hai
mei dastaveez per likha hua nahe
yehi sub kuch tha jis dam woh yahan tha
chalay janay kay uss pe janay kya nahe

bichar kay jaa'n tere aastaa'n se
lagaya jee buhat per laga nahe
judiae itni bay'rudaad se rahi apni
kay mei rouya na tha aur phir hunsa nahe

woh hijr-o-visl tha sub khawaab-dar-khuwaab
woh sara maajra jo tha woh tha nahe
bara bay'aasrapun hai sou chup reh
nahe hai yeh koi muzda-e-khuda nahe


- Jaun Elia

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"What do you want me to do for you?"
"I want you to be old. Ten years older. Twenty years older!"
What she meant was: I want you to be weak. As weak as I am.

- Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

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i take it back i took it back i want it back
i dont know if its the synthetics
or if i'm starting to get realistic

cause i'm
not forgetting you
but finding things to distract me

is so much easier
than finding you
sometimes

have i ever really known you
as much as i knew you then
when you were a stranger to me?




-
Picture taken by jia.

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Quote of the day..

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them. Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die, or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: “I’ll go take a hot bath.”"


~ The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

0 lend me some sugar.

 
written by jia.

  ..so lately i have been in this stay-up-till 7am, ungrammatical, nostalgic, talk to myself. paranoid, insomniac, wide eyed, and a little intense. okie maybe little is an understatement. wish i knew if i wanted stability more than the complete range of emotions and melodrama. if only life could be summarized in one simple word...good or bad. -im too young to be stuck somewhere in the middle, sitting on a fence and whining about it. no, i cant write an intro for myself, hence i ask you to read the damn blog. maybe.. you'll find out more through my posts. n in the meanwhile take a panadol handy.. .

tell me you luv me..

Terror Alert Level -

Terror Alert Level

dynasty -

One crow sorrow
Two crows mirth
Three crows a joining
Four crows a birth
Five crows lucky
Six crows cold
Seven crows a secret
Never to be told

mantra -
 

- Lately...

 When I was a child
a story was told
about the devil
and a girl so bold.
He offered her riches,
a fortune of gold,
and lovers abound.
But she lifted her soul,
she lifted her soul clean.
Like the story was told
on a dark country road
the same man appeared to me...

But I reached, I reached
through the rain to the Devil's feet.

Now twenty years later
to the place I return where I scorned the angels
for a passion that burned.
There set in a tree
a knot twisted and turned,
the face of a creature Hell bound.
So long ago
could my mind've played jokes on me?
As darkness sets in,
unavoidable sin,
the truth I try not to believe....

That I reached, I reached
through the rain to the Devil's feet.

-by Azure Ray

 

ode to meaning..

_________________

One Tree Hill - New Zealand.
Dedicated to Xulfee Bhai, who chose to die in the Summer of 2003 Oct 7.

calm before the storm

_________________

Numb by Linkin Park

And i know
I may end up failing too
But i know
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you..
I've become so Numb...I can't feel you there.

moon phase
 

calculated distractions

broken promises ..

said he: tum jaisay doosron say bhaagti ho aur chupati ho .. wohi mere saath bhi kiya....  "  

~*~  current mood ...

                 

coffee files...

'someone once said...

stains..