The Green Room's Chronicles.

Whatever happened to the creative ghost in me! Right now, I'm living on Jibanananda Das' creativity. What a poet! I've fallen in love with "Windy Night". Anyway, the crux is that my university papers are here. So studying of late. And yes....watching some really lame movies in between. Watched "Its a Boy Girl Thing". I mean, what was it. Friggin' lame! But I watched "Lajja" too. One word: Powerful.

And...also listening to this song which I used to hang on to while watching One Tree Hill... Its by Bethany Joy Galeotti. HALO. You wouldn't know who she is if you haven't seen OTH. She was Haley in it. And and and.... seen Dexter yet!?
Another HOT series. I'm absolutely hooked on to it.
Also, I have been clicking pictures of me. Come on! I am a friggin' girl. :P

More, Later.

And that is my favorite neck piece. Some nine stones something. 

Indian Fusion-BAD CHOICE.

Just figured out that I am really wasting my time and talent on this common blog called Indian Fusion. I mean, I thought it would be nice and a good experience sharing creativity but I realized that its just a waste of time. The members are too rigid and the content too boring. Happened to write a few posts there, including one poem. Guess not many people were up for it. Its a good space for people who want to share what they think about creative writing but I personally felt that it is not something which would help you to grow in how you write. It was quite funny to see that a lot of its members had given their employment information on Facebook as "Employed as Columnist, Reporter (and other blah) at Indian Fusion". Okay.. is it just me or do you, my readers (if any), find it weird. People are really confused, including the founders. I do not intend to speak ill of it. Just writing what I felt. They call it a "student run organisation" while it just a group blog on WordPress with 70 odd members. Finding it really irritating. Some people write on pretty different issues but others are more or less conventionally stuck in their bubble. Whatever it is. I've had my stint. And trust me, it was BAD. Wrote this one, which I consider very close to my heart. Guess how many people read it? Just one. Funny.
It's called: Mera Mulk, Mera Chowk.


Steps swirling into pavements
And the pebbles coming out from the street tar,
Melting away till they are lost somewhere near the stars;
I have taken all of this and made a pole.
It stands tall in that busy street with a thousand people,
Talking. Sweating. Spitting. Hoarding. Talking;
Hugging tightly in my arms, I have the scroll
From the Mughal Shah Jahan.
Stating immediate arrival of a thousand and five men;
With incredible forearms, straight from the glen,
To be carried out on the sixth day of October,
They built another ruby in Dilli’s taaj.
The pole still stands tall.
The people still talk in appall.
The streets still melt in the heat.
The flies still hover around our feet.
But they couldn’t resist staring at this moment.
Those who said, “The pole is too dirty to look at”
At the minarets which touch the sky and
Smile calmly at them…
“You’re still eating the parathas, my dear. Don’t forget,
You’re in my mulk, my chowk.”