something's wrong. i want to put my finger on it but i cannot. i cannot do this any longer. i dont want to remember any of this. i can feel people looking at me differently. their pettiness saddens me. i want to forget all of this. every single memory.
i want to go home. i shall count the days like the prisoner does. i shall keep the voices in my head at bay. i will then go home and hug my mom. and i will cry.
i will watch lazy morning unfolding silently among morning walkers beneath my balcony. and on warm winter afternoons, we shall sit with our back to the sun and my grandma will re tell stories that she has told me a thousands times over. i dont remember a single story.
and then the stormy days. my mom will call from office and tell me to shut all the windows tight. i will. but i will keep one door open for me to peep out.
i dont want this. i dont need this. why didnt i die when i was 10? i never chose to grow up.
they made me.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
hyderabad blues
on a four day diwali trip to hyd, i clicked 300 photos. well, yes it was one amazing trip. we walked on foot and took buses from the second day after we realized that the autos want to buy our souls if nothing else.
but what i discovered is my secret love for my chosen career: journalism. i have dedicated half my blog trying to figure if it is worth it and meant for me. on my four day diwali vacation i realized it is.
i dont travel with blinkers on any longer. i travel with eyes and ears open. i ask questions and seek answers. earlier if i were to visit say the golconda fort, i wuld probably simply complain about the garbage strewn about. but this time, i asked questions. about the pathetic way ASI is renovating it, about the lack of security. i had the power to walk into the ASI office and ask them why are they not doing their job properly.
i went to mecca masjid and realized how vulnerable it still remains. knowing about the history of the bomb blast, what is funny is the metal detectors have been hastily placed and forgotten about. because they havent even been switched on. and people still keep visiting in hundreds leaving the place as naked to death as ever.
lumbini park gave me the creeps. hudrends of people and the smell of death looming in the air. you could see the laser show arena: closed, dark, out of reach yet the footpath goes past it.
yes, they had hiked up the security. all kinds of checking.
funny, my frnd has metal plates in his hand which never beeped. anybody hrd of self detonation?
funny.
how unsafe anything and everything is.
how vulnerable we are to our circumstances.
and then, suddenly. no more sunshine, no more rain, wet earth and pink flowers.
but what i discovered is my secret love for my chosen career: journalism. i have dedicated half my blog trying to figure if it is worth it and meant for me. on my four day diwali vacation i realized it is.
i dont travel with blinkers on any longer. i travel with eyes and ears open. i ask questions and seek answers. earlier if i were to visit say the golconda fort, i wuld probably simply complain about the garbage strewn about. but this time, i asked questions. about the pathetic way ASI is renovating it, about the lack of security. i had the power to walk into the ASI office and ask them why are they not doing their job properly.
i went to mecca masjid and realized how vulnerable it still remains. knowing about the history of the bomb blast, what is funny is the metal detectors have been hastily placed and forgotten about. because they havent even been switched on. and people still keep visiting in hundreds leaving the place as naked to death as ever.
lumbini park gave me the creeps. hudrends of people and the smell of death looming in the air. you could see the laser show arena: closed, dark, out of reach yet the footpath goes past it.
yes, they had hiked up the security. all kinds of checking.
funny, my frnd has metal plates in his hand which never beeped. anybody hrd of self detonation?
funny.
how unsafe anything and everything is.
how vulnerable we are to our circumstances.
and then, suddenly. no more sunshine, no more rain, wet earth and pink flowers.
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