Things Better Left Unsaid

| Posted in | Posted on 12:40 AM


BEFORE YOU READ THIS - Know that this is a joke. And that I have nothing better to do at night and I can't sleep because I was studying till a while back and now that I'm not studying, my eyes refuse to go into REM mode. Kudos. 

About 2 hours back, I set my facebook status to, 'There are some things better left unsaid, but be assured I'll say them anyway.'

And then two of my friends started arguing (nay, debating) about whether I should actually do that or not, one of them speaking for the motion, one of them against. Now on most days I'd have sided with one of them, certainly the one speaking for the motion, and would've told the other friend something about something else that would link to something else and make 'em realize something else altogether. But I wasn't in a mood to do that, you see. I wasn't in a serious mood when I wrote that status...

I didn't write the status with all of the 'I think I love but I'm not sure whether to tell you because you've become an increasingly great friend and I don't want to ruin everything but I'm pretty sure you already know' kind of thing. I chose to put it up because I had tons of other things going on in my mind which incidentally had nothing to do with anything my friends were arguing about.

For example, when you walk into a... say, a movie hall. And you're a guy. And you see a very attractive girl (read: super hottie with huuuuuuuugge lady-parts, the front-ends) and if she turns out to be a friend of the friend you're going to watch the movie with, after saying 'Hi' do you follow it up with, 'Man, I'd just rather watch those than the movie'? Now see, THAT is an example of something that is better left unsaid, even though everybody's feeling like that, or has thought that before. Well, at least all the guys.

Or when you're a salesman or something at a guitar store and some random kids come up to you and ask you the prices for various guitars and ask if they can play, what do you do? You say, 'Yeah, go on ahead, I'll plug it in for you.' You don't go, 'Bitch please, you can't play this because you sure as heck aren't going to buy this and I'm the one who has to change the strings,' right? Because that's something better left unsaid, even though the amateur guitarist and the string-changer both know that the kid ain't gonna be be back.

Or it could be when your talking to an acquaintance and you suddenly feel the need to go, 'Hey, man, can you just please shut up? I know you're only talking to me because I can get your work done. So please, let's not continue making small talk, yeah? It's kind of saddening.' But you do NOT do that, do you? THAT was what I had in mind when I said I'll say things that are better left unsaid. Not the whole... you know, awkard-weird-friendship-love hormonal bullcrap. It was just a JOKE. And I was always known to be KIDDING. Or that's what I hoped. But hey, it's cool. 8)

Now I can cite at least a dozen more of these examples that could happen anywhere from a courtroom to a grocery store, but I'll go with this one, because I know a great deal more are going to relate to this... 3:)

When you send a girl a friend request - again, presuming you're a guy - do you send an additional message that reads: 'Hey, I just saw you at this friend's party and I though you were hot so I just wanted to browse through your pictures! Thanks. :)' ?

You don't, do you? Well that's just it, man. Things better left unsaid. There's no godforsaken need to intellectualize every goddamn thing on this planet. Chill on it, yo. And I'm sorry for the chauvinistic instances there, but hey - guys have a heck lot more of what's called 'hormonal imbalance' and that is a fact, and even if girls do, just by chance, they're never going to admit it, so...

Hahahahaha. You see that? THAT was something that I could've lived without saying. So yeah, guess I'm already doing the needless and the needful. Awesome.


^That's how one of my friends said bye to me today, on facebook chat. I just found it ridiculously funny so I did it too. Again...


More updates on how academically screwed up I am later. 8)

P.S. You really believe there are things better left unsaid? I do not, just that I didn't have better things to think of. (^___________^)


One O' Clock's a Good Time to Play Blues

| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 1:56 AM


Yep. I said it. Go screw the world; one o clock's a good time to play blues.

I don't care about my Physics exam day after tomorrow, because hey - nothing's higher on my list of priorities than playing blues. Writing, maybe, but that's the only allowed exception. This feeling is weird now, tapping away at the keys of my keyboard. I hadn't done this in a while, but now that I've started doing it again it feels awesome. Like a drug, yeah. 'I used to do a little, but a little wouldn't do and so a little got more and more.' [Gn'R, Mr. Brownstone]

In an interview, Jack White described Blues as essentially being sad people singing sad songs. I'd rephrase that and say that Blues is in essence, awesome people singing awesome songs. Yes. True story, bro; Blues was the 'Emo' in past days.

I love blues songs, man. 12 bars, 3 chords, and lyrics 2nd graders could write with their eyes closed. THAT freaking easy. And how awesome are they to play? GODAWESOME.  MAAAAAAAAAYUNNN. I want my bandmates to be free so I can ask 'em to play this stuff with me. This is just crazy. Nothing makes me more ecstatic than the mention of blues. I wish more people listened to stuff like that, all they listen to these days is music they can bang their heads to and can't make sense out of; whatever happened to times when repeated verses of, 'She left me, my baby! She left me all alone' were all people sang? Dammit, I should've been born in a different era. I've been jamming to backing tracks on youtube for a while too, 'cause my bandmates aren't really free to jam now. (Yeah, physics, I know; sucky shit)


This song, you must check out.

4 guitarists, 3 chords, 2 singers, 1 GODAWESOME song.

And it's about sex. 

Yes, it's in boldface because I want people to know you don't always have to be crude as shit when it comes to writing songs about making love like rappers do these days. You can be graceful. Or well, if not, you could at least be funny. Like BB King, Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Vaughn. Damn, these people are awesome.

Rock Me Baby!

Listen to more blues, you pups, it's awesome. Like TOTALLY awesome. And the funny thing is - there are SO many goddamn songs with the same chord progressions, but that doesn't really stop people from writing more songs with the same chord progressions. ^_^

P.S. I'd kill for any one of those guitars, mostly the Clapton Strat or BB King's Lucille. Dig the other two guitars too, Buddy Guy's has got a great tone. And Jimmy's guitar is sweet too, 'cause I dig Maple fretboards. Awesomeness, this. Wish it were longer.


Got tons to write about, I have. I shall, as soon as my exams get over, but mostly Physics, Chem and Maths. English and Physical, I'll deal with easily. That being said, the next week is going to be hard as shit.



Secret Rendezvous

| Posted in , , | Posted on 7:51 PM


Secret Rendezvous

...And we'll take a walk; one on the outskirts of the football field, through the empty corridors, dotting the perimeter of the basketball court, behind the small stage that is lined with trees. We'll walk on the grey impaled marble floors, or on dust-laden cement, slow as snails, for as long as we wanted to. We’ll hear the crickets chirring, the grasshoppers singing, while the rest of the world danced to their own tune, enjoyed their own follies…

We’ll catch up on things we had lost track of. We’ll speak about people, how much they affect out lives; chat facetiously about our distinctly alike tastes in music; shared insignificant little stories of our lives that had somehow affected us in the slightest possible way.

We’ll be joking about trivial matters still, as we cross the big black gate for the second time, heading towards the driveway again. And I’ll push you gently as I tease you about another guy in your chess club, saying that if there were team chess matches, you both could make babies by the time the opponent makes a move. You’ll push me back too, with a wee bit more force, saying it was as easy for me to score girls as it was to score goals, and that girls liked taking their shirts off at hot footballers anyway; I’ll pretend to have not heard the comment you made about me being hot, and I'd know you’ll be apprehensive about saying something like that again.

After more rounds of the driveway, the sand pit, and the mini garden near the reception with the water fountain at its center, we’d finally settle down to sit, at the uneven piece of rock outside the periphery of the tennis court; there is nobody there to see us, except for the footprints sitting idle on the tennis court, and cobwebs that have gathered on the corners of the walls. Only I would sit down though; you'd want to keep standing for a little while longer because your legs feel restless. I’ll pull on your hand once, twice, mocking you to come sit with me before you'd want to; you'll retort back with an impish, almost inaudible scream, calling me a retard. Finally you’ll sit, right beside me, and for a fleeting moment we'll look at the stars together, both of use in awe of, and revering, our spontaneous, secret rendezvous. Another moment of silence follows, this one more tangible, and we are just about to start talking again when your phone rings and you have to leave. 

I'll escort you back to the auditorium, where everybody is watching the proceedings of a dance show they’ve already seen an umpteen number of times during the rehearsals; a dance they don’t like much, but still want to watch. And you see me off with a brief hug goodbye; nod your head as you wave your hand.

I start walking around the football ground, trying to distance myself from the commotion that is going on next to it, in the auditorium. I stand still for a second, stretch my back, and look up at the stars again, your voice stuck in my head like a song on repeat. 


Now that you've read this, you should know that...
~> I wrote this long back and had decided against posting, but then, it's Valentine's Day.
~> I have a Physics Practical tomorrow, for which I should be studying, but I took a break to finish editing this because of YOU, my beloved reader. So lest something bad were to happen tomorrow, prepare to be bombarded with a good ton of hate mail.
~> This is not the complete story. The complete story neither begins, nor ends, like this.

Peace out.
Wish me luck for tomorrow.
And nobody's getting no hate mail 'cuz I don't have the time. Or the addresses. 

\m/ (-_-) \m/


| Posted in , , , | Posted on 12:59 AM


I'm the kind of person that lives on reassurances. You know that right? Reassurances that aren't so much needed, per se, as required by me, just to get through something. I know what you're thinking - yes, I should have gotten over my childish insecurities, I should have understood that there won't be people around me all the time. But then, you're not just 'people' are you? You're more than that to me, you know. Honest.

Or maybe you're not, and it's just my wishful thinking. Maybe I idealize people to such an extent that they feel like they mean much more to me than they really do. But I guess that's just the way I am, the way I work. It's different for different people, and I expected you to understand I think. But it's cool if you didn't: I'm not in your syllabus booklet, it won't kill you if you don't know me from head to toe.

I guess after a while, the little things become too much to live for. You don't find them anywhere, and if you look too hard... well, what do you expect? But then again, part of it is your fault too, because if you hadn't been so obtrusively generous with your little gestures, I'd never have started expecting. And you're just as much wrong as I am. You should've issued a sign of some sort(Warning: Little gestures oncoming); I'd have handled myself just fine then. In our friendship, we were equal; as are we in our faults in its regard.

What it also could've been due to is lack of communication. But come on, we both know we're better than that. We all make mistakes, and we all move on. It's just that, right now, I'm kind of in a dark place. And I could really use you, your deep insights, your jokes (which were often more sad than funny), your unabashed claims of genius, and your pure and honest narcissism, of course. But most of all I could use your guiding light - it's helped me through a lot, you know? And that, I say, at the expense of sounding utterly and thoroughly cheesy - something you know I don't like.

These days when I see you, I have this hollowing, almost harrowing feeling inside my chest. I know that it too is transient, and will pass as time does. And I know it sounds extremely selfish of me to be needing you around me now, but may God kill me if I didn't want to be the same for you; it's just that you never wanted me around when you were down, and you were good enough alone. And I won't be petty enough to feel sad about that, because you're independent and it's awesome. But I can't help noticing how you've changed, how I've changed, and how the things between us have changed; and it's cool, I think, because you can't forego the inevitable, you can only delay it.

So where does that leave me? Still in need of your reassurances?

You could say that. But ultimately, I know, I'll learn to appreciate things the way they are, and the way they must remain. I'll learn to understand what I've been too stupid to understand till now. I'll learn who to depend on, and when to be independent. I'll learn how to realize, not idealize. And I'll learn to operate my own torch, so that you can finally use your guiding light for yourself.

Someday soon I think, I'm going to bombard you with one good ton of letters. But I'll do that when I'm in the mood to lose my way with words. Not now.

All that being said, I'd really like it if, every once in a while you'd just look back and smile. 

Now don't tell me you didn't know this is where I was going. Because hey - you do mean a great deal to me. Wishful thinking, my ass.

Take care, you.
Keep them batteries charged, you never know when someone else might need them.


Do I need to include a Fiction tag or can I do away with the formalities? I'll choose the latter, thanks.

I was thinking of posting this in a series I'd thought up eons back, called Unsigned, but it needs a lot of work and I still have my goddamned exams to be done with. If it does kick into action, though, I'll just make a few changes to this one and post. ^_^ 

But, for whatever reason, I thought this up an hour back, typed it and I just had to post this. 

One for the road, folks. 

There's many more where that came from.