HAIRY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE

It's been a while. Well that's just my basic start up. I'm always in the mood but at lost for words but today I simply must. Whatever comes let it be. I'll just write what's running in my tangled brain, mind or whatever you call it that is controlled by the heart. 

So, well, practically, today officially or unofficially marks 2 years since I last cut my hair like literally okay not literally. I've had a few trims here and there but not like the official chop off session which I did back then. Well the exact date was 28th of September if I'm not wrong. It should be a Thursday but still I prefer leaving it as the 1st of October since well it's much easier to recall shit like this on very general dates. 

But today also marks the unofficial 2nd year of other things as well. Well I suppose a lot of thing happened on this very date officially 2 years ago on the 1st of October 2012. 

It was my official hair cut off date.
It was the first day of my final year. 
It must have been somebody's birthday.
Somebody could have fallen in love.
I could have fallen in love. 
Anything can happen.
Anything could have happened.

But here I am writing while waiting for many more splendours to happen.
Should I cut my hair? is a very powerful yet disturbing question that is running in my head. 

I don't know.

Oh well, anyway, today me and the S7 went to watch Annabelle and it's pretty disturbing for the fact that it has no ending. SUCKS.

But what's nice was I remember this day. 
The 1st of October 2014. 
Two years too long baby. 

Things are so near yet so far. I don't know. Maybe I'll wait another year. Two of everything ain't always good. Three is a crowd but it loosens my doubt. 

When you dislike a person's ways but like the person itself it's always hard to gauge what you actually want out of them for yourself. In the end it's just another selfish world of a façade. 

The day I cut my hair might just be the day I will never grow or fall out of love. 

I can't put an end to this just like my hair. 

NOT JUST YET 

MY UNBORN CHILD

A Tale Inspired By Ganesh Chand

The lust from my breath, blowing against her fragile neck,
The silence that's broken, from a pleasurable pain.
Both of us drowned, at the pinnacle of nirvana,
Both of us strangers, after a sinful game.

Months there after, she got on to her knees,
Pleading me for mercy, for the child I yet to see.
I shunned her, I shooed her, I pushed her away,
She fell to the floor, bleeding with pain.

And to moan for the death of an unborn one,
Seemed ridiculous to me, until one day it begun.
For from the edge of the corner, of my big blue room,
Appeared a little shadow, and a boy full of gloom.

I closed my eyes for a second, then I opened them to be sure,
Hallucinations maybe, from ninety nine glasses of beer.
He still stood there, with his posture so straight,
He stared right at me, as I felt a mighty weight.

I sent myself to sleep, I consoled my heavy heart,
I slept with dreams of comfort, but I woke with a start.
I lifted the curtains around me, to let in a little light,
But I still saw darkness, it was the boy and he was a blight.

A visit to the doctor, a visit to the witch doctor,
Both of which simply, ended in vain.
I sat, I strayed, I pleaded and I prayed 
Nothing seemed to take, the miserable boy away.

I still indulged, in dirty desires,
I still fulfilled, my guilty pleasures.
I still strayed, on untouched meadows,
I learnt to live with my three shadows.

A penny I gave, to a famished man once,
The joy I felt was simply, abundance,
The boy that tagged me, never ever smiled,
But that was the day I saw a glow in his eyes.

Deeds a million, I started henceforth,
But it never summed up, to my sins' worth.
It never mattered to me, to equalize things,
But to see the boy happy, would make my heart swing.

I crept very slowly, between the days of my life,
With no family, with no kids, with no woman called wife.
This boy set my spirit, on a fire so wild,
I couldn't help but accept him, as my unborn child.  

Alas, I laid, on my cold death bed,
My unborn child, with his lap under my head.
He spoke to me, for the very first time,
"Papa, you're a good man, but you can never wash away the grime"

"I was never your son, I was never alive,
I only reduced your burden, which you never would have survived.
The curse of an avenging Constance,
The mother of your conscience."

R.I.P.

PETER & GORDON

Please lock me away...
And don't allow the day...
Here inside...
Where I hide...
With my loneliness...
I don't care what they say...
I won't stay...
In a world without...

LOVE

SENSIBLE WITHOUT YOU

He plays with his eyes as much as he plays with his words,

He plays with his words as much as he plays with his actions,

I test my senses, all of which have failed,

To surrender is my only reaction.

The scent of his white collar,

It blocks my nose that smells no danger,

The murmur of his mumbles,

It deafens me from disaster, 

The touch of his hand,

It tempts my desire, 

The lips that are meant to lock mine,

It makes me want to starve forever.

There is but one sense he's not taken from me, 

I see, I see, I see,

I see the lies beyond his truth, 

I see the moves that deceive my youth, 

I see the shenanigans he try to avoid,

I see the conspiracy with himself,

I see the confusion of his mind,

I see the man that becomes a child.

But my sight too he does not spare, 

For when I see, I see, I see, 

I see into his eyes,

All that I have seen gets misty into disguise, 

There is nothing left for me,

I'm blinded by the light,

The love that sees nothing,

But perfection despite he being a blight.

Alas, he's taken it all away from me,

He's crippled me with his plan,

To seek the love of the impossible he,

I must be pretty mad, I must be horribly mad,

Either or over this man. 

SENSELESS IN LOVE

A PECK ON THE CHEEK

           This is the story of a girl called Amutha. She was 8 years old in 2003. I am her dad, Ragu. I am an author who writes many famous novels. One of my favourite novels is about a baby girl who was forced to be abandoned by her mother who was a Sri Lankan refugee. Amutha’s mom is a homemaker. She has a grandfather, Mr. Soomu who is comitee member in the Rameshwaram refugee camp. She has two younger brothers Nickillen and Suresh. Well, this seems to be a happy family, but only until the truth was hidden.

            It was 2004. Half a year flew by so fast. It was Amutha’s 9^th birthday. Her mom asked me if it was okay to let her know the truth. Wasn’t she a bit too young? I took Amutha to the temple that day, then to Marina Beach. Amutha was running in circles around me on the fine sand of the beach. The sun shone so bright, making the sand particles shine like diamonds.

            Finally the truth was out. I plucked all my courage to say that Amutha was adopted. At first she laughed in disbelief and then tears started to roll down her soft cheecks. She ran far away from me. I brought her home. She was moody the whole day. As dawn was coming to an end, Priya was preparing dinner. Nickillen and Suresh were in their room. Grandpa was on his rocking chair browsing through some books. Amutha was on my lap as I was swinging on the built in home swing. It was a very quiet and dull environment when out of the blue Amutha asked, “Who are my real parents Appa?”

            I was silent. My dad then explained, “I don’t know who your dad was but your mom was a refugee at my Rameshwaram camp. All the refugees that came in tiny boats from Lanka were in total despair. Your mom was conceiving then. As I was explaining to them some of the rules, your mom suddenly had her labour pain. A few weeks after that she had to go back to Ceylon because that was her homeland. Therefore, she left you at the Rameshwaram Kids Care Centre. Her name was…….M.D.S….Ah, yes! M.D. Shyama.” I then said, “It was only her one finger that touched you through that window. The only form of bond the mother could have with the child. With tears in her eyes and cuts in her heart she ran away from the innocent infant.” Amutha knew in a moment that those lines were from my novel. My favourite one. The following day was a Monday. Amutha went to school but did not come back. My sister Laxmi came to my house looking worried saying that Damendran, her son, was missing too. True enough Amutha and Damen were on a bus to Chennai in search of her mother, Shyama. I managed to find them and Amutha got some serious firing from her mom.

            From that day onwards, Amutha was being rude to her mom. Amutha was begging me and Priya to take her to Sri Lanka. Finally, I came home with three tickets to Lanka. Amutha hugged both of us. Nickel and Suresh did not know our purpose to Lanka.

            Upon our arrival at Colombo we met a friend who was going to help us. He was a Singhales man. His name was Nimarande, also known as Niran. Amutha went sight seeing everywhere. After two days we went to Jaffna. Unfortunately, that day the troops asked everyone to evacuate the area because they were going to put a bomb there. As everyone was walking in a line, some driving trucks, I, Priya, Amutha and Niran were in the search of Shyama. We found a lady by the name of Shyama. At that moment the bomb blasting started. The lady said she too had a daughter but it was not Amutha and she was not M.D. Shyama. Then the lady quickly ran away.

            Then we went to Kandy. We went to Niran’s house a bit deep in the village. Amutha went exploring the village when she saw some girls in army wear pointing a gun at her. She ran back home, crying. The same time I and Niran went for a walk and some Tamil soldiers caught us and almost shot us. Luckily I shouted some of my poetry lines in Tamil to make the soldiers believe that we were Tamils. The leader of the troop realized that I was a well known poet. The troop leader, Selvam, said that it was not save for me to hang out with Niran who was a Singhales. I explained that Niran was nice and that Niran understood Tamil. I then told Selvam my purpose to Sri Lanka. Selvam looked surprised and said that M.D. Shyama was his sister. She was now in the army. Selvam promised to bring his sister one day to meet me. I and Niran went home and broke the good news to Amutha. She was excited.

            I am a good author. Niran then recomended to me that I have a small show. My fans in Kandy would love it. So on Tuesday it was my speech at a hall. Amutha and her mom went out across the street to the bench because they found my speech kind of boring. Amutha then saw a man on a wheel chair reading a book. She went to talk to him and they started to have a conversation about the book he was reading. Then he left to go across the street but he forgot his book. Amutha took his book and ran to give it to him when suddenly he blasted. He was a suicide bomber. She had a few scares and was in a state of shock. Her mother grabbed her and everyone started to scatter.

            The next day, Amutha, I, Priya and Niran went to a street at Kandy to finally meet Shyama. We were waiting but no one came. It was about time to leave but Amutha was reluctant to leave. Suddenly, some soldiers came and started hiding. Priya called her to leave but she was stubborn. A gun was shot and bombs started to explode. I took my family to hide. As they we running a stone cracked my glasses. Priya got a gunshot in her arm. Amutha had many terrible scares and a huge one on her forehead. She was terrified. She hated the place. Niran quickly came in his car and fetched us home. Amutha had 3 stiches on her head.

            The next day we were leaving for India. We thanked Niran for his help and bid goodbye. As we were leaving for the airport, Amutha asked me to just stop by the street again. We got down and waited. As we were about to leave, an auto came there and stopped. Selvam got down. After him was a lady. It was Shyama. She came nearer to us. It started to rain. Amutha looked at her and said, “I have got a few questions for you.” “Can I start?” Shyama said okay.

“Why did you leave me?” asked Amutha. Shyama started to tear, “the situation was such.” Then Amutha continued, “do you love me?” Shyama cried and grabbed Amutha. She kissed Amutha and said “Yes of course, of course!” Amutha too started to cry and asked Shyama to come to India with her. “It is so much more peaceful there,” she said. Shyama just could not go. Shyama turned to go back to the auto. “Amma!” Amutha shouted. “Amma, don’t go!” Shyama turned and said, “don’t call me that, I can’t go.” She the ran back to Amutha and gave her a hug and kiss. Amutha gave her a scrapbook she made for her. Shyama took it and ran back to the auto. Amutha could only watch the auto go out of sight.

            I then hugged Amutha and said, “Never mind Amutha. We still love you equally.” Priya kissed Amutha and asked, “You do love us right?” Amutha smiled and said yes. We looked at each other and smiled.      

KANNATHIL MUTHAMITTAL 

ARBEIT MACHT FREI

Based on a short documentary I viewed entitled ‘Hitler, Jews and Genocide’, I could clearly see that the Nazis in Germany of the 1930s were an unfortunate breed of the human species as they were grasped tightly in the hands of Satan. When the Nazis came to power during that time, they severely tortured and killed millions of Jews. This was known as the holocaust. The holocaust was the systematic execution of as many Jews as possible. This process was mainly done by the SS under the supervision of Heinrich Himmler. The mastermind behind this atrocious event was the greatest dictator of all times, Sir Adolf Hitler.

Hitler despised the Jewish community for he regarded them as people of an impure race. Whoever whom he assumed was not the so called pure Aryans the Germans considered themselves, he wished to execute. I think the problem was not whether the Jews were pure or impure. The thing is that Jews did not believe that Jesus was their messenger and also they managed to pull through smoothly during the Great Depression when all others were in a terrible financial state. I think the issue with Hitler was that he simply had green eyes. Jealousy had over powered his mind, making him make a rash decision by framing the Jews as dishonest, money lending, communist people.

He placed the Jews in concentration camps where they were deprived of their individuality instead they were given numbers. It was sad to see people being deprived of their own names and given numbers as though they were some sort of object being labeled. In 1941, the pitiful Jews were evacuated to ghettos where families squeezed into one room and there was scarce supply of food and water. When I heard the pain in a child’s cry, it sent shivers down my spine. People who were caught smuggling food, risked public execution. I was pretty amazed though by the fact that a little Jewish kid was dropping out so many vegetables from his pants when he got caught. I wonder where all that space came from? I guess when you are desperate for something you will try and get the most of it by hook or by crook.

The Germans realized that shooting the Jews down was a failure as it was a slow and messy process. They then came up with the most brilliant idea ever. They gassed the Jews. Honestly speaking, hats off to their master plan as it was a job well done. The chambers, the cyanide, the crematorium, everything was perfectly prepared. It was only terrifying when the narrator mentioned, “there were to be machines to kill human beings by the millions”. I have heard of machines designed to kill fishes and chickens by the millions but not humans. An inhuman technology of the 20^th century it was to kill the human race by the millions. Why? Why was Hitler such an animal? If I had the chance to put some serious sense into his head I would tell him that there was only one race that God created and that is the Human race. There is also only one religion that any God would want us to follow and that is the religion of Love.

The time for resettlement arrived and Jews all over Europe were scurrying about to get to resettlement camps. It was a pity that they were not aware that in resettlement camps they were going to be settled once and for all. There was one particular part that really disturbed me. It was when the Jews got on to the train to get to the camps. The narrator said with so much emotion, “The minute we got in, the minute they closed it on us with a bolt, terrible cries began inside in Polish, Yiddish, German pleading, requests, there’s no air. We’re suffocating, suffocating, suffocating”. It gave me goose bumps. I disliked the part where the dead bodies were looked at as recycling objects. Women’s hair were shaved, gold and false teeth were being pulled out and spectacles being collected in a heap. Was Hitler so sadistic that he could not allow a person to be cremated in a perfect condition? There was one part I enjoyed though and that was when a splash of brain fell on Himmler’s coat when he went for a visit to a concentration camp. I was laughing my head off.

Hitler disliked the Jews for he claimed them to be a dishonest bunch of people. First of all, he made a false impression to the German public and the International Red Cross by producing a propaganda film that portrayed the lives of the Jews being comfortable in resettlement camps when actually half of them were dead. Secondly, he should have looked into a mirror and asked himself, now who’s the big fat liar? A coward he was for destroying all forms of evidence of the mass murder mission. If he was right that the Jews were so called impure and that they must be murdered why would he remove evidence and create unnecessary films? Some of the Jews were also cowards for jumping into the pits to commit suicide. I salute those who fought bravely in the ghettos for 33 days.

The Jews of this 21^st century are now quite powerful and seem like a dangerous lot of people. They are causing devastation in Palestine and are also supplying sophisticated war equipments to other countries. Israel supplied Kfir fighter-bombers to the Sri Lankan government which was used to wipe out innocent Tamils in Jaffna, Sri Lanka. An anonymous commented one day as I was watching this documentary. He said that Hitler was stupid for he should have killed more Jews. Well I opposed his statement because I think that if Hitler did not start this act of injustice maybe the current Jews would not be doing all of this. I am guessing that they are finally showing out their frustration on the world for what had happened approximately 70 years ago when the Germans were being oblivious towards them.

Religion and Science believe that the world is gradually coming to an end. Humans will perish totally. Some say the Sun is going to explode. Some say it’s going to be an asteroid. Some say natural disaster. Hollywood says the earths crust will open up. I say it’s going to be war. If only we could avoid war and torture, maybe we would lead better and longer lives. People like Hitler tried to spark something that lead to something worse today. If only every single person on this earth listened and applied the song ‘Imagine’ sung by John Lennon, truly the world would be as one. One race called humans, one religion called love, and one peaceful place called EARTH.

WORK MAKES YOU FREE

TOMORROW NEVER COMES

Yes I steal pictures from Tumblr and yes I cried watching this movie and I don't know why I picked this picture maybe because she... (I'm not going give a spoiler or maybe I just did) and yes the following post has been posted out of sheer inspiration, boredom and love that never dies have a blessed day everyone and yes I should be studying now but what the heck I'm a writer and I'm loving it as much as I love the world and boohoo 

I was inspired yesterday as I laid down on the bed soft against my back but now it has all been forgotten like awakening from a bad dream and all vanished like the missing 370. I still have a few words left though to you and only you. What if I go missing one day just like the plane? Just like those who trespass the Bermuda? Just like those who surrender to the arms of the reaper?

Yesterday I saw you, today I see you, tomorrow will never be and I love how I get a sudden spark of insanity when I type these words out. What if tomorrow never comes??? Do you not love a little mystery??? Do you not love a little of me???

It will always be a gloomy day if I wake up next to you but never just another day but a gloomy one that will satisfy my soul. I surrender. It's not that I will say all that I have to say for time will never allow of it but for now I just have to say that through thick or thin, through your endless bobby cock, through your sheer nonsensical ways, through your messy faults, through your deceiving smile, through your subterfuge words that place an unbearable ache upon my chest, I have to say, I have to say and I simply must say that I've loved it all and I love you even more.

You teach me to be inspired and you teach me to be in absolute...

LOVE 

CREATE

I am here. Without much thought. What have I been up to? God knows. Did I have a sudden urge to write out of no where? Then again why is it called a sudden urge if not out of no where? An emptiness fills me up to my throat. I could vomit my sins out but then again I said it was emptiness. Maybe the emptiness itself was the sin. I've been doing some reading. It helps me a little. It opens the door of my mind to greater possibilities. Maybe this is what I want? To sit here and write my life out instead of forcing nonsensical standards into my head. Maybe I'm not here to take in things? Maybe I'm here to give out my thoughts? Have I not idled my life away too much all together? Questions of purpose of my purposeless life start to float all around my head like that of paper boats that will eventually sink. Maybe I should build solid ships of questions and work on them? Maybe that will be my greatest Titanic but even that sank. So many things have happened. I have been born and raised sometimes I feel into a disaster that I must rectify. I have failed once and many a times and I must never again. I wake up everyday to an unproductive day looking forward to nothing but the people that will never last. It's not like anyone cares. I should learn to care for myself. I will and I must start today. Enough of dancing in fantasy. Get a reality check and move on and do something about life. I enjoy the simple things in life that don't come simply. I enjoy being me but now I have to stop being me and start making me. I will write and keep writing and never stop till I'm done. I will now go to forcing standards into my head with hopes that once I'm done I can start writing everyday and all day. It's going to take time but it's not going to stop me from either or and I will keep smiling. NO. I will stop smiling so that I may smile forever. 

#OCD #ACCA #Passion #Purpose #Life #Love #Me

THOUGHTS ARE THINGS

ORANGE SODA MOMENT

So I finished my orange soda even before I can start blogging when it was suppose to be like by my side for some inspiration for me to sip while I type but that's the end of it.

Anyways I shouldn't be drinking this but I love orange soda and it's Mirinda and Mirinda has this one of a kind sucky taste. 

My cup is orange just like my soda. Here I am typing a crappy story because I can. It was supposed to be about love but it ended up to be about orange soda. Well even orange soda is love. Now I'm sleepy because of the orange soda. 

Dear Orange Soda why you so like that one??? I'm as high as fuck from this orange soda. I want to cry because the orange soda is the only thing I seem to be writing about and orange sodas don't bring people to my miserable blog.

Well it's okay as long as I have a happy private moment with my juicy sweet tantalizing yummy slurpy orange soda I'm happy. You know I've always loved you orange soda as a kid although I've not had you in a while and now I've had you three days in a row. Now that's some serious sexy shit. Oh orange soda you're so sexy. You're tangy and cool. I love you orange soda just like Kel. 

I Do. I Do.

I DOOOO-OOOHHHH 

SUNKEN WITHOUT SENSE

Dear Dreadful Jose,

Midnight masquerade and here I am putting a cover over my face for a story to tell. There's always so much to talk about when you're dancing under the shower but nothing ever seems to appear on paper later. My thoughts always seem to fly away just like my hate for you which never existed.

I recall the call that once was made because I was so important to you however you seem to have perished in person although not from my heart. Good friends come and go and great ones fight on to stay they say or maybe I say. You're worth fighting for for you're great indeed and you're so great that I intend to fight with you.

Am I at fault for correcting mistakes and making changes that will bring about outcomes of greatness and a cleaner soul? Days from now I shall never understand what I just typed here however as of now your ignorance is no bliss to me for it only kills. 

Creping in this petty phase you are and I wish that you would simply exit from that state of self-inclination. I'm self-inclined myself but my purpose almost always seems to revolve around the ones I love more than my loved ones and you may put yourself in this category of which I call my selflessness. I utter pure nonsense I know. I'm just all emotional that you're being so painful in shunning me. 

I did no wrong says everyone and I shall fall in this stream too however I shall be most willing to be ignorant of my rights and voice just so you would speak to me again and just so I could meet you again and just so our friends can be but only if you will let them be.

I desire friendship far too much and I desire the painful death that comes from the wrecking of it. I know not of what I speak and I wish so that it stays that way for I am in a high to seek for your cold humour and insults once more that will set me to tears that are far less hurtful than the ones you are giving me now.

You treat people as if they are so oblivious and you are so precious but you are no precious at all but to me and the ones who love you so and so take them into consideration and be a soul with some warmth for I have seen the brighter side of you with which I fell in love with once and forever. The melancholy I use must not be misunderstood for a love so impure but it should be taken as a love worth fighting for and that my dear child is called friendship.

Never did I imagine that I would find lucky charms that complete my rainbow and if you were to be so cold as to come out of it then there simply can be no colour in my life. Excuse my nonsensical blabber but please just please be so kind as to send me a greeting and I shall type here no more.

With Love

ISABELLA