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Vositha's Blog

~ a story of life, love and other things

Vositha's Blog

Monthly Archives: June 2011

“a walk”

30 Thursday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in poetry or something of the sort., Random Moments of Life

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

embrace, kisses, love, relationships, shivers, walks

I took a walk
from a snow covered lane
to dust covered roads.
from winters cold air
leading to smelly cows
pass the cold nights
to the sweats of summer nights
from feelings of coldness
to pains of bitterness
pass the corners of embrace
stolen damned kisses
shanty stops and hasty smokes
to winters weathers
skies and sunshine
moments of pleasures
pits bottomless
scars, lies, and shivers

I walked down a road
a cursed fucking road
destined for nowhere
yet leading me elsewhere..

puke, puking and so forth..

26 Sunday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

≈ Leave a comment

I feel pukish. Nothing new. Just a statement. Have been feeling so for a few days now. Causeless, baseless, feelings of pukishness. A disgusting feeling that I am growing to appreciate. The pleasure of the disgusting. That is what I am living.

I tell Rathindra that I want manyokka and katta sambol. He says he will get them for me and we embark on a distinction of what constituted katta sambol. Was it  lunumiris or something else? I try to emphasise that I prefer sticking to my own vocabulary and resonate a zillion times (exaggeration of course) that I wanted manyokka and katta sambol (not lunumiris, but katta sambol)

Sometimes being able to retain one’s own expression over nothingness makes perfect sense. Same with forcing someone to use your terminology. When you meet one, who lets you have both ways, I think it’s like bliss. Well not in perpetuity, but at least on a linguistic level. Not complaining on the rest of the aspects, just trying to focus on the subject matter. (for those who deem my blog to be on “Sex” sorry for disappointment)

Sigh, well I like people who have patience. I mean lots of patience. And I like that he has patience. The patience to read the weird things I post on the blog and then sulk in silence without confronting me. The patience to put up with my mood swings and agree to find me manyokka. The patience to put up with my hormonal highs, and lows, and then the neutralities too. (the latter being the exception of course)
I ask him why he puts up with me. He tells  “I am like that” (not much of an explanation I say but then again I am glad that he is “like that”. You know, “like that” the expression for which people have no specific definition, but a mere act of pretext at comprehension. Sad at times, banal at other times. The rest of the time, purely not analysed.)

On a very personal note, I am running out of complains of late (shock!) With him, I remain with control over my expression, and with my katta sambol . So why the hell would I want to rant of frustration.

I mean, at least for the night of course.

PS. Words do not seem to flow of late. Rants are mostly pronounced of late with a caressing of skin than a caressing of a key board.

On obliviousness and other things..

18 Saturday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

It’s been months that I have tried, and failed miserably. I am sick and tired of thinking that things will get better. Because I have realised that it’s the reality that is in front of me. And no, things aren’t destined to get better. They just don’t.

You have not changed, despite how much the foolish I wanted to believe it would be the case. Yes, history repeats itself, and I find myself feeling an utter fool, all over again.

Being irritated sucks. Specially if one is clueless as to what the cause is. I wonder to myself, if it is me, or you. Or may be both of us.

Patience has its limit. Yours and mine both. I guess mine ran out first. Well, it lasted for a while. I am proud of it. Longer than I thought it would. May be longer than you thought it would too. ( something to be proud of? May be..not sure)

Here I am back in that emptiness. The feeling of having made the same blunder, the same old feeling, the same old stuff. Yea the “stuff”, your favourite ending to a sentence.

You say the food was tasty, and that there was enough salt. I am grateful that I was not anywhere near you, I am sure I would have throttled you with my bare hands! If I wanted the taste of salt to be analysed, I would have got the good delivered to my dad, he is the expert at it. His comments on food for the last 25 years resonate in my ears. They were always on the amount of salt. I am tired of salt, and the comments on salt. May be I am tired of other things too…

I wonder how oblivious one can be, you just proved that my wildest dreams to be beneath your capacities.

Who knows, maybe you are a miracle come true.

On the levels of obliviousness of course, sadly nothing else!

“Parents, beat your kids with a belt!”

17 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

beating, belt, marriage, parents and kids, parents beating kids, relationships

I was pissed off with my mum (nothing unusual just the ordinary status). My parents have this awful habit of getting a little too excited every time I start dating someone and start thinking marriage or ask me if I intend to marry. Well at times, I do not know, cause I am not sure myself, on what I want to do. ( though this time be an exception)

Anyhow, all worked up about my mum’s random comment I was on a mission to move out, when this kid who comes over to hang out with me, was like trying to reason out with me, by pointing out how wonderful my room is! (hell no! It looks like a dump. Partially due to my fault, still..) and then started to highlight how lucky I was to have my parents. And (behold!!!)starts to tear up and cry.

I was like, “what the hell is wrong with you?” To which she responded saying “have your parents ever hit you with a belt?”

For me that was the stupidest thing anyone could have ever asked me, so I gave her my “ are you off your mind” look.

“See they are nice, mine do”

I was like “what the fuck!!” Who in their proper senses would beat their kids with belts. What kind of barbaric acts do these people indulge in. She went on to elaborate that when she was around 11 years old, her dad beat her with a belt cause she swore.

I wanted to know what her mother did. Her response was “nothing”

I knew the kid had issues with her parents, but assumed it was something to do with her being in her teens.

Funny how the parents get off from posh looking cars, and act all sweet and loving, and one never wonders what goes in their stupid households.

Wonder how many kids in Colombo 7 get beaten up by their parents with belts, or worse! Quite something I am sure that people would think is normal, since most of the population believe that kids are parents property to do, as they please with them. Inclusive of beating them up with belts of course. (bloody assholes, how can you do that to their own kids!!)

I wonder when people would start believing it is high time for some measures on violence against children…

“Why Women Cheat on Their Men”

11 Saturday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Random Moments of Life, Relationships

≈ 12 Comments

A few months back my hairdresser came up with this interesting topic to converse on while he was messing up my hair (no kidding) And I have no clue to this date why the hell he picked me to have this conversation with. Then again, maybe he thought I would endure his speech with a pinch of patience. So here goes the summary of the conversation which would lead to my analysis on the title put up above.

The man is a little full of himself I should say. No offence intended but just elaborating the facts as they are. He ain’t that bad looking either, a little bodybuilder style, tinted hair (the usual of the hairdressing folk I think of late) and a somewhat good charmer.

His topic of the day: the women who come to his saloon and who make moves on him. I am like spare me please, but then again, I am not the kind to speak out my bitchiness out loud, unless really required. So on a test of patience, I await for him to go on with his monologue while he shifts the clips stuck in my wet hair and takes off the curls with his scissors. I think within me, “I will kill you if you mess up my hair, while talking about the stupid women you might have messed around with”

I remember the dude telling me about a woman he was having an affair with once, a while back, I was grossed out at that, listening to him just rant on and on, about some woman who could not get enough of him, and how he was careful so as not to affect her dignity by being seen in public with her (which he claimed not to be good for her) and instead he decided to take her to a room with him so that they can have the conversation in private (my foot I am sure conversation was the last thing he had in his mind). Anyways nothing against a man who wants to screw around, but it is a little gross to think that this man is talking quite unashamed of his ventures while he had a wife and a teenaged daughter. After listening to his rant the other day, I was like, so “does not your wife ever notice?”, he goes “ Oh, I keep her happy. She cooks and takes care of my daughter. She is a good wife” (!!!!) I wanted to ask him if he was a good husband but refrained from pronouncing that line. Instead I thought “what a loser”.

So the latest theory of his on women, he thinks that most of these aunty types who come to his salon are hitting on him. (may be they are, one of them walked in while he was making a mess of my hair) And tells me that he feels sorry for the women, “poor women, their husbands are not keeping them happy. Imagine how your life would be if you were to live with a man who cannot satisfy you!” Sigh. I pity the torture the ears of mine were going through. I presume it needs not be explained. But then again this guy was providing me a new perspective on life.

According to him these aunties are sexually frustrated because their hubbies are incapable of satisfying them. (I am sure while they are busy satisfying women who are the age of their daughters, anyhow) And the solution they come up with is screwing around with a married hairstylist who is a wannabe Arnold Schwarzenegger, but a very short version at that.

He would have gone into detailed analysis of his theory had I not enlightened him on my lack of interest in his proclamations. (though it was done in a very non bitchy way as a precautionary measure not to mess up my hair as much as I possibly could. But then again he had already messed it up to some extent with his excitement in his story telling. Screw you, you idiot!)

The guy as a closing line decided to get into a bet with me that one of these days, in the future, when I will not have potential beaux to keep me entertained, and I be not satisfied with a man that I would do the same. (go in search of a possible man who would satisfy me..his theory of course) He spoke in the most sagely tones, and said that when the frustration hits me hard, I the prude shall vanish and that I will be one who is no more different from those aunties.

I laughed at him. I could not picture myself sleeping with a man like him even if he was the last person on the planet. I would definitely head for animals I think.

But then months later, at present day while I type this, while being in love with someone who seem to be a hardcore believer abstinence, I wonder whether for the stupidest second, whether he did have a point.
I wonder as weird as it may sound, if his mouth made more sense than his scissors did justice to the task set upon them.

PS. And NO I am NOT interested

“Sex talk or sexy talk?”

04 Saturday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

It has been a while since I thought “sex” in an analytical way. But then Hans got me thinking in a different way. Sex, relationships, abortion and other matters I normally think of, linked up to what I usually work on, after a conversation with Hans. And for a change, I think of climate change. And that too with a sexy effect to it.

Yes I guess I am playing with words as I usually do. I was never too good at being too serious when I was typing out things. (unless required by my examiners or lecturers) So the obvious tone of not too rational in sentence structures. Was never too good at it, though I have tried to brave my blunders.

So coming back to the point, away from all the abstract, and what I am trying to focus on here. Yes sex seems obviously important to many of us around, though considered not a topic worth being discussed in a serious manner. Unless put into innuendos of sentences with sexual connotations and intended double meanings. (totally piss me off, but I think it has become a habit of many who are venting their frustration and practicing their freedom of expression)

Even most of us in relationships never speak sex. Why have that chat? Horrendous it is. And not meant to be discussed by those good souls who have utmost respect for each other. (and die of frustration within) I hit epiphany on the same matter when I was discussing my frustration on the same lines, with everybody but my partner. No I did not put a discussion forum on my sexual life, just that we women seem to be capable of talking about many things with girlfriends, and among that many, lies this topic sex too, I guess. So here I am the pandit, happily venting my frustration with my best friend, while the man who matters is absolutely clueless about what runs in my mind.

Yes, never thought that I would run out of words, words to vent, words to express myself. Guess it does happen to the most talkative of us. A moment of running out of words, when silence creeps in and then it kind of resides, and then makes its permanent residence within us.

Well then there is always a time to act.

Muscle up all the courage and have that conversation, that terrible awkward conversation, as to why things were not the way you want it to be, and why the hell was it not the way you want it to be.

I did have that talk and realised that it sure can do wonders 🙂

“The Predator”

03 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by vositha in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

He comes there for a reason. Though it seems he is there without a reason. At first glance that be the judgement. But frequent sighting of him, changes opinion.

She had seen him there, often, at lunch hour, alone, with his beer glass in front of him, looking around, with no look of waiting, or waiting for someone. He would look at the crowd, and would take his own time at it. He was not good looking, neither that bad looking, may be in his early fourties. She was not sure, and was not bothered of assurance.

Frustration was a new feeling. Sexual frustration, , something she never thought she would feel. But endured immensely, at most times, of late. Abstinence much adored was draining her, and while all this happened, “He who mattered”, seems not to notice, what it be the obvious.

Yet the predator did see it, sense it and cherish it.

Was it the look in her eyes? That empty stare while listening to the conversation, or the head that leaned on His shoulder, and the inept way He reacted to her gesture? Was it just the non interest or the indifference she possessed for the two souls that were her companions? Or was it the female hand she toyed with while He seemed to be making an effort at caressing her skin with a forced effort? Or was it all this that sent signals of “damsel in dismal” a “possible prey alert” for him?

Change of chairs. Simple trick. He was right in front of her face, and she needed no effort on her part to catch his eyes.

And he stares. And waits. And awaits her signal.

“Creep alert!”. Red lights on, flashes in her mind. Reaction needed. Urgent!

For once, she knew the cause of his presence. Every day, same time, same beer, same expression, same claws awaiting their prey.
Frustration yes, desperation, yet NOT.

Pulling back of chair. Holding of hands. She was out of his sight, and out of Barefoot.

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