Monday, October 22, 2012

Where is the female Chaucer?

An excerpt that I really loved from 'Fear of Flying' by Erica Jong-

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Technically, my soulmate.

I was on a Girlfriend Date the other day- we were going to lunch, coffee and then a movie. And it was a super fun day! We talked about exes, current crushes, bitchy bosses, 50 shades of Grey and how that'll maybe make men better in bed (I read a statistic that after reading the book, women wanted to go at it 50% more with their men and the men were now feeling the pressure- go, Christian Grey!), places we'd like to vacation, and all of that girly kind of thing. Jokes were shared, gossip was gleaned, secrets were whispered and in the middle of it all, VB and I were making love to our phones. We were busy instagramming pictures of the chandliers at the quaint place we were having lunch at, or tweeting about how much fun we were having- Hashtag #GirlsDayOut.

SO, at one point, one of the girls, PB, got furious at VB and me, and stalked off (she didn't leave or anything- just walked away in disgust for a tad!). VB and I were trying to figure out what caused that dramatic reaction. Wasn't being on the phone only natural, given the day and age? What's the point of doing something if you aren't putting it there on social for the world to see- wait, that sounded so wrong. 

But seriously, look around. Everyone is on their phones. And sometimes I can agree with P, it's annoying. Like smoking zones used to be the best place for fun, unpressurised conversation. I've made many a great new friends just by hanging out with people in the smoking zone. Smoking zones are areas where people are gathered to do one thing that binds them together- smoke. And in the meanwhile, chat about one thing or the other- whether it's Gangnam style's ridiculous fame or how the auto rickshaw prices just leaped up into the sky. 

Now, though.. everyone who comes to the smoking zone just zones out and zones into their phones. All random conversation has died a tragic death. It's like the phone has replaced a person. Or rather, it's like phone is your new best friend, a second shadow. Something that will give you company, anywhere, any time- all you need is a charged battery (have you seen how near death look on someone's face when their phone's running out of battery?). 

Your bf/gf/spouse may be boring you to tears on a dinner date, your bus may be late, you might not be able to fall asleep, your flight maybe 12 hours too long- but fear not! The Smart Phone is here, in a cape and all. Take your pick- Anything from angry birds to organising your day to throwing sheep at a friend on Facebook. Or if you're me- reading a grand ole book on a tiny screen. Your phone is the best friend you never had, a soul mate like none other. It loves you, chooses you and wants you - it's your Derek Shepherd and Christina Yang, rolled into one. Beat that, byatch!

As is obvious above, I have no final word on this- I'm as guilty as the next person who's obsessed with and makes goo-goo eyes at their phones, and I'm also as irritated as the next person who hates how anti-social (how ironic) our phones make us. 

But what can I say- it's my technical soulmate :)

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Ruin Me.

You ruin me.

Every time you touch me. Every time you smile at me. Every time you even frown at me, with those brown eyes that are capable of setting my body on fire.

And I ask myself ...why do I do this to myself? I tell myself- never again. I say to myself that there has to be an end to this. 

Then you say my name- a whisper, so simple, as if it's nothing... I watch mutely as I see your mouth making the shape of my name, and slowly, very slowly, it floats toward me, the sound touching my ear, ever so softly- before it explodes. 

And I'm ruined all over again. 

The trouble is I'm never more alive. Every time you ruin me, even my tears sparkle. The heartache makes me touch the moon.

Call me a fool, but I am willing to lose it all to feel that high. Because I can't bear to exist in the the silence. 

So, go ahead, ruin me again.