Mom's Fitness Mantra

So I am at that stage, like many others who get haughtily told by their moms that they need to lose weight. Being "fat" is sinful. It undermines a person's luxury to savor food to the fullest, in others opinion (in this case my mom's). Meaning, if I were FAT and I enjoyed eating, I will be laughed at or labelled a glutton.
I'd describe it as a complex that forever leaves afflicted "obese" persons eyeing others for that acutely curvaceous figure, or a size-zero. But the size-zero phenomenon is a waste, as it'd make me stand out in a crowd like a bag of bones.
Owing to some great genes and tradition, I will be skinny, yet curvy. Now, my self-worth so depends on this, and going by mom's fitness mantra - "Eat healthy but exercise!" And since my exams are over, she will most likely re-double efforts to enforce the weight-loss strategy.
So I need to watch what I eat, scrutinise calories and cut down on carbs. I could do with some green-tea, a high-fibre diet, fresh greens and regular exercise. Skipping. Brisk walking. Some weight training sessions: dumb-bells, sand bags and what not...the remnants of my brother's body-building activities.
Laziness is a major hurdle that lurks inside me. Fiesty, it hisses and draws talons against anyone that invades my comfort-zone. At other times it lies dormant and switches to Garfield, the happy cat; characteristically feline and sneaky when it comes to exercise, and being partial to junk food.
So the drama begins, with mom as Umpire and guru. Three cheers to looking pretty!! *toast*

Perks of Being a Gurl

It's that time of the year when we're on the verge of getting over with the semester. NOT the ideal time to cut slack (as my practical exams are still ON!). But here I am again. I'm sipping a choco mocca after trying out a new bubble bath (it was yummy and fresh with green-tea and citrus essence). And I used a hair-straightener on damp hair which is simply Rad!
I filed and cut my nails: a self-pedicure, used a softening cream and what not... ah, the perks of being a girl! I can pamper myself all I like. And wear pink things with polka dots and tiny hearts. That also gives me divine rights to "PMS" and yowl to glory, if I so choose to.
But SOMEBODY pleaseeee scream... Or slap me, make me smell fish! Oh no, I don't like fish smell. Just lecture me on exam preparation and time-management, and I must kick arse tomorrow (the EXAM)!
P.S. It just might help if you use sweet words, and do some polite nudging, here and there. Or I might scream, and you could be the reason to start another blog post with a vendetta.

Shop-o-holic

I had been shopping with mom at the "home stop". There is still lots to be done like finding the right accessories, picking out matching curtains and stuff.
This sure seems hectic. I wonder how designers manage to keep their sanity and juggle deadlines on the go. The most irking part of this addictive and tiring affair is the time constraint and one's inability to choose between intangible assets and goods that are much needed; and the cluttered state the mind is put into. Think, for example when you want to buy that gorgeous crystal thingy as a mantle-piece and it just doesn't suit the decor.
The day out ended with a contemplation: whether to go for a movie now or later. However we didn't watch movies *sigh*, 'coz the tickets were unavailable or just that the shows had weird timings which didn't go well with us. I badly wanted to watch "the Hobbit, which was scheduled for 8:45 p.m. (I have an exam tomorrow :-!). Instead, I ate donuts to make myself feel better, then ate at subway and shopped some more. Well, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Heart-throb

Okay. I'm not into jokes, the kind that start off and you never know where the punch-line is. Or rather WAS, as you realize the joke was on you!
Well 'scuse me. You were the dull one, the dumb one... having fallen for it. :P
My heart throbs for an imaginary knight in shining armour! Rhett Butler. Where art thou? And it's more than just a heart-ache. The skin on the back of my legs and arms hurt. I just epilated for the first time; it was a monstrous thing, really.
The whizzing machine with a thousand needles piercing the skin; biting and tearing barbarically into it. My epidermis is now more exposed and vunerable than ever. Atleast there had been an evergreen forest that had protected me; hair that always stood-on-end in wintry days like these! Now, I'm covered with tingling remnants, of what used to be hair-follicles. Now they are rashes.
Mental note: never epilate again, especially without a soothing aloe-gel on hand!
Coming to better things... Mom's back. She's gotten me a newer phone: android and not BB this time, from which I can blog. To add to that, there's this super-zoom bridge camera that shoots in RAW mode, rather like a DSLR but sans the lens-changing capabilities. It sure is the right thing for a rookie like me!

my "otherwise"...

I've become what people call a "crying jag", and yet I don't know why. 

Maybe it's the chemistry (the oxytocin in the air), the atmosphere and the weather that is giving me the chills. I do sound self-obsessed when I say this. But a few days back, I was Darth Vader! Literally jeering at everyone and getting a kick out of everything. And all of a sudden now, here's my alter ego: Plain Jane with the Flu. -_-

Well, anyways I have been doing some poetry-hunting. And here's an unforgettable poem that was once taught to me in the world literature classroom, IB. :) 

It's simple, down-to-earth and longs for something; which is how I felt when its words touched me to the core. I had dedicated this poem to someone once, and it still remains one of my favorite poems.

Otherwise
I come
from an opposite country
to yours, where water spirals
and the moon waxes
otherwise.
my stars assemble in unfamiliar patterns
and I watch often
not traffic or television
but hour by hour the huge tide
absently fingering rocks and small shells
and the wet brown kelp
where fish go sliding through.

if you were with me now
on my favorite beach
we’d watch the distant seismograph
of silver peaks darkening to indigo
and walk on the breakwater
towards the harbor mouth,
disturbing the flocks of terns
that wheel up shrieking in slim wild voices
to land again behind us
renewing their conference. I would slip
my cold hand in your pocket,
you’d look at me and grin
and we would walk together quietly
right to the very end,
where big chained rocks hold back
the same Pacific ocean, lumbering in.

~Cilla McQueen, 2001

Beelzebub writes

I feel amazing, like super-charged! It's evil flowing in my veins; the spirits and banshees calling out my name... for demonic, dark desires. I'd drink human blood too, wanna be a Vampyre.
I am gonna be a evil, sarcastic bitch from now on, and get a kick outta everything!
No more sympathetic me.
I'm the Beelzebub that likes to write...

Angry young lady with a custard fetish.

I made custard.

the likes of which is yellow,

a milky-jello,

my mouth, a round “O”.

my buds need revival; 

good food, yore and 

more. It’s often me that 

chases pigeons nested by 

the building and makes a 

dog yowl, a yank of it's tail. 

Critters, I can’t help it, 

this is, me.

Embodiment, bold.

Au natural, a figurative cook;

mutton chops, cream tarts

and a custard fetish!

Drunken fancies

Reality swims before
me; in a torpedo of
thought. A swim in
an ocean, Paradise,
where I want it to be;
roar of the angels;
and a death dance
of spirits, eternal.

They beckon me,
their melancholy
matches mine;
an epiphany; a
death dream and
my darkling knight.
I covet thee,
consume me, till I
want no more.

Aprendiendo

Here's a poem I came across the other day.
Note, the original version of the poem is in Spanish (which, I don't speak).
Hope you enjoy the read!



"Aprendiendo"

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn...
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth...
And you learn and learn...
With every good-bye you learn.

~ Jorge Luis Borges

Gluttony and chocolate icing

A few extra pounds: eating
Pillsbury's chocolate icing,
goes a long way, its my
deviation from a bride
waltzing with a figure in a
tux; the bassoons playing.
Its so far away...



P.S. I wouldn't mind more cake, though!

On the bus ride home.

there is little to do, in this hot, hot sun
but watch passers by, as they
dismount at each stop, few more wade in.
sultry winds of change make it through
the windows, with little ado,
it's swelteringly humid, and my head
pounds with the heat.
i keep reminding myself, it's just a few
more stops around the corner.
but then, there goes again, the scurry
of auto-mobiles and the waiting
at each traffic signal, signs that imply
this heat will never end.

Prelude to Insanity

'Tis a glimpse of memory and of sanity,
a narrow bridge, joining two souls;
the heart which oscillates in serpentine marvel,
in symphony, and mine.

I cannot match again, his umbra of a soul.
A figure that entwined with my own,
a world of artifice.
Now lie broken and charred pieces of
porcelian, white.

Time flows, as clocks tick;
I'm but grit in the briny deep.
I wait for the prelude and my epiphany
sings, "here lies..." an epitaph marking two
birds but one flesh. Ageing acutely,
but damning the other's soul. 

Little Things.

It's the little things on my
Mind right now,
The things that count,
And things which remind me
Of a higher power, indelibly
Watching over us as we play.

It's the little things that make me
Question, why people leave and not
Stay by us forever, and why the sun
Doesn't shine while it rains.

It's the little things that I miss,
What makes me sad and blue,
When I don't want to.
It's the little things that we don't
Often see enough to appreciate.

The Master, who heals us
From the hurts that life scrapes on
Our smooth mirrors;
It's a test of patience, and
Perseverance, for our faith
In His Grace should never wane.
He sets right all, that He has taken
And gives back in equal measure.

We ought to live, and
Thank Him for the beauty
He has graced our world with.
He provides for us with food,
And solace, to live and enjoy.
Mother nature has planned
To the greatest detail, our lives.
And little thoughts on His gifts
Would make all the difference.

Reader's List

These are the books that have remained on my reading list for quite some time. They have been shelved now, due to the ongoing tests and semester-end-exams which commence on the 10th of December.

I've decided to stick to this check-list and finish at least parts of it before I get caught up in the butterfly-wheel, as the next semester starts.

1. The Casual Vacancy, J.K. Rowling

2. Einstein: the Life and Times, Ronald W. Clark

3. Fifty Shades Freed, E.L. James

4. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Steig Larsson

5. Sufism: the Heart of Islam, Sadia Dehlvi

6. The Grand Design, Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinov
7. A Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking

8. On Beauty, Zadie Smith
9. Sam Walton: Made in America, John Huey

10. The Associate, John Grisham
11. The Turning Point, Fritjof Kapra

I could add more to the pile that is already there, but it'd be asking for too much; like being overtly ambitious, given the lack of time. There's another list for perusing books that have already been read. I have forgotten parts of them, and for the sake of reliving a few beautiful and hilarious moments I'd like to leisurely skim over those pages.

1. Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell

2. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K Rowling

3. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

4. The House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende
5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling

6. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown
7. The Great Gatsby, Scott. H. Fitzgerald
8. The Stone of Tears, Terry Goodkind

There might be more to add to this list, I'm just not able to think of at the moment.
You just might be able to read more posts once my exams are over. Speaking of december, I have reasons to celebrate. Mom is returning home, and I'm awaiting a new DSLR, a smartphone and girly delights... chocolates, hair-straighteners and accessories. :P

Roman Candles

I haven't done justice to what I called real-time "blogging" for the past few weeks. I wasn't able to come up with interesting ideas or stuff to write about, apart from the poems in which I repressed my feelings in a ramble of unfinished lines and imagery. It's hard to be satisfied about what one writes. There are emotions involving things that appear out of the blue and one is tempted to add more to it, make it undecipherable and more complex than ever, rather than end a poem in peace. 

As Earnest Hemingway had it said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

So, this post is going to be about unsaid and trivial things that we ignore and take for granted, on an almost daily basis. I sound pretty sombre already. But that this is not on a sad note, it's just to perk us up a bit. It's about exuding a positive aura, to take experiences and turn them into lessons of learning. 

Around the 18th of last month, I was blue all over again. Like being sloshed in mud and depraved of feeling good about myself. But I stepped out of it, as a wanderer steps out of the boat as he reaches a destination. I took to reading, spent time on the Internet, wrote poetry, admired heroic characters in books and slept, for my love of reading had been rekindled. I was rejoicing with the realization of being comfortable in my own company. 

It felt good by not being able to feel for a while. But one can't help being solitary or straying for too long. Jack Kerouac said, "The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." And so, the love for people still burns...