Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Love, jogging, water, tears and "Mr. Cool
So these pictures are from the first story in the Movie: Heartbroken Cop 223's Monologue (May is the name of the girl)....
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Back and kicking!!
kinds.... and not just for dirty things.... Some of the beaches are AWE---some.....and food is amazing....
Talking about the plane... there were shaky moments... and whenever that happened....I was shit scared.... but anyways ...this is my technique ...to get drunk.... yeah... I get drunk on all my flights.... and thats not because I want to gulp down free liquor.... but then this is a short flight and you can't really drink that much....
Pattaya is hell-o-a party zone...its like party 24 by 7......365 days ..... This guy was going crazy with the bar girls... must be some kindda bet.... but he sure was rocking the party here ...
@ spa....I dunno who clicked it....
This time I actually wanted to see more parts of Pattaya, so I rented this scooty thingy..... this was the only color they had.....seriously..... and those were the only helmets available...
This my Saawariya pose at the pool.....lol
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Victim of time
(OK .... people I know I have been a lazy bumbitch.... and frankly speaking I wasn't even busy.....well…..I was a little bit ...planning a trip though.... So I already posted this poem on my poetry blog, but still I am posting it here: Hopefully I should be back in a week’s time unless some pilot decides to take a nap in the cockpit. Million other things can happen to a plane... but then I get scared anyways....always.....)
I think dying in a plane crash is really the worst kindda death….. but I think I am going to quote the closing monologue of American Beauty:
I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches forever, like an ocean of time....for me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout Camp, watching falling stars...and yellow leaves, from the maple trees that lined our street...Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper...and the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird. And Janie...and Janie. ..And…..Carolyn…. I guess I could be really pissed off about what happened to me...but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... You will someday.
And what it does
To people
Once kids
Then boys and girls
Then men and women
The core
And the shell,
Question?
And silently answer, repel
Run and cry
Vision and then the eyes
It is named time
A futile power
A living dead
And a deceitful truth
They say
No point in holding on to it
Repeat and memorize
Daily once, twice, thrice
But Oh! The beauty
That passed by
Still blinks in my wet eyes
People named friends
Those days and trends
That garden and those benches
Still….. still….
A few certificates
Remind me of my victory
And their defeat
Prize money is all spent
That time is dead
Not even a year old
In this new world
Everybody inquires
Of my past life
And secretly laugh
When I turn my eyes
These photographs
Are deep
An ocean of time
Like two Samosa’s
Dipped in coconut chutney
Or a bottle of soft drink
That passed till last sip
See them
A lot more
Is beneath them
A tranquil layer of vodka,
Lime, ice and a pinch of salt,
The froth of beer,
Aroma of the coffee,
In million card houses.
Sound of music,
Debates on feminism,
Chains of smoke,
Libraries and their ambiance
Hugs and kisses,
Diary entries and dope,
Rushing to the college
To show what you wrote.
A car accident,
When we were broke.
Losing control, after 8 P.M
Sleeping in the girls’ room.
Rain in the desert,
Full moon in the bathtub,
The kurta with the shloks
The teachers who became friends,
That bonfire and the holy smoke
Ashes and dew drops
Think about them
So….. many
So many moments
Make these photographs
Always remember
It’s just me
Another victim of time
P.S: About the tags....I will do them once I am back....happy holidays to me ...so much tequila is waiting for me...