Ramblings For Relief

I think this entry has been long pending. Now that I write this entry, I am already feeling good. The other reasons could be that I just had a long, nice, useless conversation with my mother, which always proves a mood lifter. Another reason could also be that I am listening to the songs of DevD, while I write. I loved the movie and its songs and I know I am saying this to myself a zillionth time, never mind. So the deal is I am at it again. Mad solitude (a pleasant alternative to loneliness), unstable mind (leading to avoidable fiefs), tiredness (weight-gain), and so many other things – I am writing this note as if my blog is my diary. Frankly, it is. Who reads it anyway?

I don’t think this has even remotely got to do with work. I hardly take it so seriously to even be perturbed by it. I don’t know, why my manager spends so much time counselling and explaining things to me, while I just sit awestruck by his knowledge and patience. Now there’s an interstitial in between us that I am not particularly excited about, which makes work even more boring. Not that it’s the fault of the interstitial- poor lady, it’s just that no one in the organisation can be of any comparison to him, anyway.

Now that I’ve diverted enough, I’ll get back. Whom should I speak to? The one experiment I did turned sour. I don’t know why, seriously I don’t. I will just forget the soul like the existence was anyway not recorded. The Delhi baby is in love! Cute child - let life be enjoyed. We spoke for five minutes yesterday and then the partner became naggy to drag my child away. I still have the one sentence etched in my head that gives me peace, ‘You’re more important than her. Tell me, what’s up’. This must have been fake but I don’t care. I felt good. Given I am going through such a phase of blank, dark loneliness, things get even more difficult so any niceness shown is welcome, especially by the ones I adore.

The Kali Mata came to my desk today to counsel me to be more civil with the poor girl I fought with yesterday. ‘Whatever’, is what I again thought to myself! That said, my dependence on her can not be ignored, given that if I don’t have this role with me, my work will kill be from the front and I’ll be standing and watching my daylight murder. Bitch, the one who complained and the Mata also – never mind. Since my life is already so complex, the bitches don’t matter.

I am already feeling very relieved. God (if he exists) bless my mind for giving me writing skills. Oh, By the way, talking of the bitches, I spoke to the Gurgaon hotness. It’s always a pleasure to talk to her. Not everyone in that godforsaken team is a bitch and a dog! I need to tell myself to study harder. If I make it to JNU - that will be the best thing that could ever have happen to me. If I don’t, I think something better is stored somewhere.

London is far, far away and given that I didn’t get any call, when the Oil Driller was here is an indication that while I did everything for the bastard, I was stabbed. I do the same for so many people and I am stabbed or the back is simply turned towards me. The name has been long deleted from my mental list but hope is written down on rock and hence takes a longer time to get cleared. (Crib, crib)

London duplicate responds to calls as if the need to talk is mine, which it is. So, the name will soon be deleted, today, perhaps.

I think I am done. I’ll write again if I am down and out. If you’re reading this, forget what you read. You aren’t supposed to.