Wednesday, October 9, 2013

A Sunday in 1997

I take the second hit while he is massaging my back, and suddenly I am transported back in to the past. Its an early Sunday morning, my dadi is making parathas, and she asks me to go grab the morning paper from the patio. I can smell the sweet smell of her warm parathas.
Back to the real world.
More hits. 

Thursday, August 15, 2013

A crack on the head 
Is what you get for not asking 
And a crack on the head 
Is what you get for asking 

Thursday, April 18, 2013


I am so sick of all the religious garbage I hear and see. Every one has their own point of view which they believe is the absolute truth and to them every one else is a liar and is going to hell. Please get your heads out of your asses!! And learn the meaning of these two little words called "respect" and "tolerance". Thank You!!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Unforgettable.

And she wonders. Will they ever get lost in the city again? see those flurries falling upon them, will they ever hold hands in the cold piercing mid february air? will they ever kiss in that dark dream like room where the only thing that one could see is the bright light from those screens playing artsy movies, the frigid walls that remind one of those haunted houses in horror movies, where when you enter into a room, there is nothingness and darkness and you don't know what's lurking. Will she ever feel his heart beat again? Thats what she dreams about the most. His heart beat. Brie cheese and that smoothie. He likes smoothies. She knows. She knows how it felt when he held her hand. How the warmth melted her insides. Does he even remember the way he held her? Does he remember the warmth between their intertwined fingers? Does he remember the softness of her cheek. She doesn't know if he does. The cold winter sky, the crisp air, the city, the streets, places, people, cameras, kisses and hugs, warm smiles, everything reminds her of him. she cant forget.. that smile. those eyes. that cheesy grin the way he looked at her, the way he wanted to examine her, observe her every move, her hair. Every little detail about her. He could see right through her, or atleast thats what she believed. His black fingerless gloves and her freezing hands. She cant forget the way he tried to make them warm. His dirty blonde hair. His plaid shirt. His smell. The mole on his neck. His hands and funny finger nails. His gaze. His warmth. Her cheek pressed against his. His stubble. Cause everything's wrong Well it's all right Everything's wrong Well it's all right

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Seriously, I don't know what I was thinking when I created this blog. Its so useless and so boring.

Friday, June 18, 2010


Albert Einstein, quote Pictures, Images and Photos
pro-life Einstein quote Pictures, Images and Photos
Einstein Pictures, Images and Photos
Their Own Pictures, Images and Photos

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