Seasons In The Sun

This post has been made as a part of the IndiBlogger The Lakme Diva Blogger Contest. http://www.facebook.com/ilovelakme




Nothing could have made the fresh yellow tinted walls of my apartment brighter and sunnier other than the summer sun. And that somehow manages to wake me up every morning from the deep slumber and the previous days tediousness. That's one good thing about summer time, inspite of all the sweltering  heat, humidity, scorch...every morning seems to be a new day, a bright beginning and a hint that path we are heading will be lit forever. That's how we get to mentally prepare ourselves, but the body needs to be taken care of. For example, no matter how much of romping about I will be doing under the sun, my day should start with Lakme Sun Expert skin lightening Facewash, followed my Sun Expert Moisturizer and Gel. This is one consumer brand, my skin is comfortable with and it really makes my summer more enjoyable.

I am basically a B.Arch student studying in Vijayawada, AP. And summer is the time, where you can no longer survive or work in the extreme climatic conditions of Andhra Pradesh. So we get a 2 month summer leave after our semester exams get over and this vacation, like all the other previous ones, is gonna be FUNtastic for me. Waking up in such a bright room during summer has its plus points, the heat won't let you feel numb or drowsy and the bright indoors tickle your brain with the thought that it would be a shame if I don't get to utilize this beautiful day by staying all day in. And then, after freshening up, the thing that hits the brain is planning out all the stuff I should be doing in order to make my day fruitful and you know, make my life sunnier! (I know it sounds cliched, but that's how summer is for me).

 So I get to have old friend meet ups, lemon soda, ice cream, salon, shopping, whopping on the java, movies, luncheon, tea parties, evening walks, pani puri etc etc and finally when I am back to my own place, the body is all worn out, tired but the face and the pupils never cease to smile. It's not only how I am living my life this way, my friends are always there and guess what...the fun continues as they all come over to my place for the slumber party, which is only the better half of the funfilled day. Giving each other face massages, manicures, late night talks, movies, popcorn...and so on.

 There are certain days when people will be busy-busy with other works, but that has never affected my regular rut of outings! I will be out on my own, with my tote and umbrella! Now hitting the roadside shops, bookstores, libraries and crafts mela is an awesome way of passing time to me. You must be wondering that how on earth I am so jobless??? Well I am not, get into architecture and you will know it. A 2 months vacation of nothing doing is essential for all those studying B.Arch!!! Then there's all the crazy outings me and my friends people get to do like one day trip to river bank resorts, beach, amusement cum water theme parks, all of which makes the summer super enjoyable and super duper exciting!! But its always the same thing back home, a routine of face massage and water drinking and tan removal remedy! Thanks to Lakme, I never had to worry much about my skin on that front! :) 

My Job Sucks

sigh. beep. hmmm....

Waiting is futile. And hoping is getting on my nerves nowadays.

Gotta start preparing for tomorrows presentation. Another 2 hours of decision making and the rest of the night to be spent on compiling all the photo snippets.
Ah great! Now the coffee mug is also missing! How on earth am I supposed to stay up without the java!
Eileen! EILEEN! A petite girl, in her twenties makes her appearance inside the room.
What now?
Have you seen my coffee mug?
It's with you all the time! You had have your evening beverage in it a few hours back. It must be somewhere inside this shithole, Maddy.
Never mind, I have found it, you can go off.
Eileen twists her mouth and positions her hands over her hips. Oh no, not another round of boring lectures!!!

Hi, I am Madeline G. Polter. Age 25, female and working as an assistant editor for the famous fashion magazine Boho Touch alongside Eileen Mitchell, my roommate and coworker. We both work under Samuel Peterson, editor of the Bohemian Touch magazine. I am actually new to this place, since it had only been a month, I had started out as an assistant editor for BT, but not a newbie in my job cause I had worked for many more prestigious magazines before this. Being an assistant editor for a fashion magazine in your twenties...what more can a girl ask for? But that's just an emblazoned title, the work is not at all as glittery as it  seems. Moreover it sucks! This magazine? Is just a year old and is having enough problems with the funds.As for me, I didn't have to apply for my post at all. Moreover it was Mr P, who had happened to know about me, through a friend of his daughter, came begging to ask me to take up the job. And I had been such a fool to fall for his kind childlike eyes and roundish face! He has features similar to that of my own dad, whom I have only seen in photos. I had thought or rather hoped that maybe their is a certain connection, which got intensified when Mr. P told that I resembled a lot, feature-wise, like his his own daughter!! I was just 20 who was given an offer for asstnt. Editor and a hope that I may somehow track down a long lost family member, that being my own dad. I fell for it and viola I landed up somehow in some shithole apartment in Lower East-side New York. It had been only a week since I had moved in with Eileen in her apartment which is way better than the previous one, but still as shitty. Rather it was kind of her to let me in. She had wanted to share it with someone who would a) pay half the rent b) not bore her  c) be ready to get bored with her own lectures and d) be a perfect roommate material (!!!) However one thing was pretty clear, the fact that symbiosis existed between the 3 of us, i.e my colleague, boss and me. They both needed me and I needed them too, in order to survive in this city. I wasn't brought up in New York, moreover my entire lineage had nothing to do with this place, or the country! But after schooling and all, I had given some serious thoughts regarding my future and had finally realized that this editorial world is where I totally belong in. Not exactly editorial, sarcastically saying journalism. After having graduated from some college with a degree in English Hons. I had managed to bag up quite a few exciting jobs in magazines n newspaper (read famous ones), but here's the catch: I could not possibly be rooted to one place, one blessed job. I was constantly on the move, sometimes the area or the city or even the country!! But it had all added up in my resume. And I must admit, my position at work place keeps getting better with the newer jobs I get myself into. So to be totally honest, that is exactly what keeps me going, rather hopping from one office to the other. But this time, there is one huge blip, the magazine that hired me is a big failure and by the time I had come to know about it, it was quite late. The office was situated in New York and I was offered a good enough post; now that was a major sell off!!!!! I didn't care to check about the popularity statistics in the publishing market, such an idiot I was!! But my boss Mr. P is ever so hopeful about the "upliftment" in quality, now that I was here. Not to mention a word about my salary and had it not been for Eileen and the sharing of rent, I would have been literally homeless. Mr. P says that once everything is set, the debts are cleared, there will be a high rise in salary. In other words, I had a boss, an office of 15 workers, and the bank looking at me and waiting for the so called "change in the trend that sets everything straight". The job was hectic and depressing cause nothing seemed to work right. I mean fashion?? Firstly copying and analyzing the style and trend of the season's latest by Vogue, Elle, Marie Claire etc etc is not what one can produce in your next issue!!! Secondly none of the workers, excepting Allen and Peter (they had previously worked in a salon!!) were remotely associated with fashion, including me. And finally Mr. P, the boss was doing it all cause his daughter (as I have been told by Eileen) is a big fashion fanatic and wishes to run her own Big Fashion League in New York and plans to take over the mag after it emerges out clean from the mess it is in. God the Kid is only 18, she should be attending Jon Bon Jovi or an Aerosmith concert somewhere instead of wasting her time thinking about taking over her dad's position. No wonder back in my hometown, we used to label any American passing by, crazy Yorker. So back to where I was, my job that is. Its not a 9 to 5 job as anyone would expect a normal one to be. It starts from 6 and may lead up to 10 to 10.30 (in the office itself) and there is always work to be done even when we are back to our apartments. That may take up the entire night at times and the main reason behind this is the less number of workers, the low popularity, low pay and the debts. So that again comes back to Mr. P and his faith in me to help them get rid of the situation. You see how tied up I am to this job now??? And the worst part is, I have no clue where to start and if by any chance if I am able to get the system to start, I have no idea regarding how to keep it going. Now for the other part of the story. The connection between my estranged dad and Mr. P. I was 6 when I was told that I don't have a dad when I had asked my mum about him. I used to see the dads of other kids in my school coming to pick them up when the classes were over. And I was 16 when I got to know that I have a dad, who is no longer staying with us and is possibly living in some other part of this world. I had accidentally stumbled across some photos and when I had showed it to my aunt, she had slipped it outta her mouth. Well you see, here's the glitch, when I had first seen Mr. P, the first thought that hit my head was the resemblance his face had with that of my dad in the photo. I keep the photo with me all the time though. And when Mr. P was making the offer, or rather getting desperate ti hire me for the post...I simply couldn't say no. A part of me was saying to turn the offer down cause the job requirements didn't somewhat go with my resume, but a bigger and better portion of me was wanting to take up the offer cause a) it's New York b) assistant editor!! c) there might be a chance this guy is actually my runaway dad. And I simply couldn't say no to him. Which brings me to the present condition where I have a magazine to look after, a parent to track down and settle up things with both. And once I am done with this, I am seriously running away from this place. So in the end, I always manage to find myself a reason to put up with all the trouble and when it's over, to move on in life.  I gotta go back to my work now, it's just one of those endless night-outs and java gulping and the arranging of papers, photos and presentations. Thanks anyway for stopping by and listening to my stupid work story. I hope your's is not as bad and even if it is, I have nothing else to do other than wishing you good luck.

Thoughts of a Bohemian

"As a kid I quite fancied the romantic, Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgement of the establishment." 
Peter Wright


"The modern picture of the artist began to form: The poor, but free spirit, plebeian but aspiring only to be classless, to cut himself forever free from the bonds of the greedy bourgeoisie, to be whatever the fat burghers feared most, to cross the line wherever they drew it, to look at the world in a way they couldn't see, to be high, live low, stay young forever -- in short, to be the bohemian.” 
Thomas Wolfe 


"The life of the young artist here is the easiest, merriest, dirtiest existence possible."
 William Thackeray


"She was consumed by 3 simple things: drink, despair, loneliness; and 2 more: youth and beauty." 
Charles Bukowski




The quotes above, finishes the story of the life I have led, my quest and where I am heading towards, in a nutshell. Yes, I must admit, bohemian life triggers my brain to work, to want something beyond comfort, food and a meager pay, to live a life or better still romanticize the very thought of living that way. Free spirited, that I have been, not always physically, but also somewhere inside my mind, where the consciousness holds no anchor to a certain place, but instead, wanders off to places unknown, of matters that were never discussed or even thought before, to wander aimlessly, freely amongst the many thoughts and the ruins of past happenings. And that's exactly what I have been nurturing within me, that is my plan for the future, to run away and never look back at the ashes that I leave. And the best part is, I will never have to care about where to go until and unless the continuous travel faces a dead end or a solid brick wall. If I am unable to stitch my soul and interest to the wonderful embroidery of art, I can however make art out of my life. That is exactly what I have planned to do in this long journey till death rises like the waves of a sea, comes ashore and washes away my feet. The journey won't be an easy one, and I would never want it to be a cake-walk either. I will miss much on the lessons that were meant to be taught to me, if I will float in the air instead of facing the obstacles. Then it will just be a life led and not learnt. But mere words are just not enough to give a visionary of what is bubbling up inside an artist, but writing out your true feelings is an art itself. An art to live for, live with and make a living.   

The Gift

I am younger than many but old enough to have experienced a little bit of this life.
And through whatever little I had to face, I have harnessed knowledge more than many.
Yet I am not tired of knowing it all, cause I am not afraid of what lay ahead of me,
I am amazed that why me, out of all, have You chosen to show life's chaos and harmony.
You have given the likes of us a sensibility so great and refined that we can feel it all.
Be it between the lines of a story untold or the verses of a long forgotten song,
We have heard, read and seen it all, but what is tantalizing is the sensation,
Which we get when we are lost in the meaning and that evokes a feeling so strong.
I am not complaining cause I feel it is a gift, a gift of understanding Your law and order.
And the only way to keep it going is to plunge time and again into the dark night,
Without losing faith in You and with the preset that what happens is for our good-
Cause the one who has never tasted foul will not get to acknowledge when it is just right.

Who? Me?

I know that I can, but I won't.
And you don't have to bother why...


I know that I should, but I don't.
And you don't have to ask me why...


I should try, but I really don't care.
You don't have to wonder why...


I should make an effort, but I am lazy.
And you don't have to know why...


Its in my DNA, but I am not bothered.
You don't have to make it right...


If this is the way I choose to live,
I won't give a fuck, damn or both
Even if you want to put up a fight...


I just love myself for the way I am!
Your opinion won't even count to this-
So thanks for listening to me, now BYE!

Barbie Gal

This is exclusively for one of my favorite role models of all times!!! Yes, I will shamelessly admit that I have always looked upon her as an entity, from whom girls can learn lot, really a loooot. It is just not the pinkness, just not the princessy attire, but how even being just a plastic body, she has never failed to inspire me and invoke the strong desire of being a Barbie Girl... ;)
 Barbie...you rule!!!!!!






Some sort of pink glamour is in the air,
And the blondie is our beauty queen-
The latest trends and fashion she will set,
She is the best thing lil girls have ever seen.
The gloss, the blush, the highlights,
Miniskirts, ruffle tops and 6 inch heels.
An avatar of femininity and gorgeousness,
Yet she is the master of 1000 and 1 skills.
Barbara Millicent Roberts is her name,
Role model she is for gals of all age.
The plastic lady has done and been it all-
Be it a doctor to a singer setting fire on stage!!
Beauty is not only in her looks and appearance,
Cause it is actually the way she carries herself.
She may be just a doll but there is more to it-
The doll has proved that she is larger than life itself.

The Object

An object of fantasy or utilization???

But just an object, with the perfect edges,

The perfect color and smooth texture.

I twist and twirl it between my fingers-

And I caress the smoothness with utmost care.

But no, it's unimportant at this moment.

I go back to turning the pages of my newspaper-

For as along as 10mins but the "object"

Catches my fantasy yet again.

Maybe my coffee will help me get over it.

But what can be better than examining- 

An object with your eyes and a coffee in one hand.

Sips I am taking, but intellectual ones,

Cause I am conscious enough not to burn my lips,

Without letting a single detail regarding the object-

Missing my vision and touch.

Maybe it's tad bit philosophical that I am obsessed-

With an object that has not much to do with this world.

But through a loophole within time and space,

It has made its appearance before the very uninteresting me,

And on the other hand making the most of my interest.

No. Newspaper and coffee are not helping.

But my watch says that it is quarter to 5,

So that leaves me with 5 more mins-

To ponder on the object and deduce some result

Before my guest arrives to keep me engaged.

So I give it a closer look and my coffee a clearer sip.
Does the object has any story to tell, I keep thinking..
Its usefulness may would have mattered somewhat in the past,
But as things lose value with time, I guess-
Somehow the thingy has lost its value and identity.
The philosophical ranting comes to a jerky halt,
Cause it's the ringing of the doorbell that reminded me,
Of my guest who I had been waiting to meet for tea.
In comes my guest and takes a humble seat,
What's that thing you have on the table Ferb? She asks.
And I said, Oh that is just an object of utter uselessness.
And I can't wait to converse with you and share some delicacies.

Just Another Love Poem

My one and true love you are..

And always will be.

We may be far from each other-

Cause of cruel twist of fate,

But my love for you is true.

Roses will always be red-

Violets the same old blue,

I know the poem is very old,

But I will always madly love you-

 And only you.

The World And Us

They think that you are mad when you were unable to let him go,

They had just seen you fight and shout at each other.

The reason behind all the drama was well hidden from the world,

Maybe that's why instead of coming close, you were going far from each other.

You always fight with the one you love, they say.

But when the lover cannot take love for a reason behind all that,

You feel suffocated and pushed around for apparently no fault of yours.

And then decisions are taken under the influence of jealousy and hatred!

And the world? Do you think that they will ever care?

You may bleed your heart out, but you get only pain in return.

Your lover is being driven crazy by the public and even his close ones-

And when everyone is bored with the show, they all just leave you all alone.

No one knows how it feels to be the one who is suffering a lot-

And getting to see the person you love suffer with you.

Time can heal all wounds, they will preach and feed into your brain,

But the scars on raw flesh proves that only your pain and not love, is true.

Tomorrow

I am gonna sleep all night-

And wake up to a brighter day.

I have had enough since morning,

I am glad that we are going to part ways.

It's been crazy and a little mundane,

Couldn't bear up with the heartbreak,

But it's all right now and you are out-

I have taken all that I could take.

And don't come crying the next day-

Asking for sorry cause the picture's over.

I shall be busy from now onwards,

So I may not have the time to listen-

To all that you have to say.

I am gonna sleep all night-

And wake up to a brighter day.

Today it was full of dark clouds,

And it may even rain at night,

But tomorrows going to be just fine.

I'll have my life figured out alright.

So please don't wait for me,

Or even dream of getting closer,

I'll be happy without you and hell lot stronger.

Cause I am gonna sleep all night-

And wake up to a brighter day.

I shall clear up the fog from the glasses-

And let sunshine light up my way.

Nivvi :)

She is pretty and at times she is shy,

She can dance like a lady,

She can dance like a child.

She is super excited about bikes,

She is known as the bikecraze girl

She is a Pondy belle with fuzzy black curls!

And when life throws bouncers a her,

She is all set to bat!

But when her bat is broken-

She feels she can't escape the rat-trap!

The pitch will always be slippery my dear,

But she knows how not to lose the grip.

Yes she is sincere about her work,

But more than that she loves to sleep!

She would never go after all the materials-

For a better and rosier life,

Cause she knows that it leaves back-

Nothing but heart break and despair,

Instead she loves paying attention,

To all the little things that get her inspired!!

He and She

Can we be friends?

Why sure, definitely!

Let's shake hands...

He smiles. She smiles. 

They both shake hands.

2 months later -

I don't think...

We can just be friends.

Do you like me?

Yes I do.

Oh my god! I like you too!

He proposes. She blushes.

And then they both kiss.

2 months later -

Let's go out,

No I am busy.

Wrong, you are just too lazy.

You don't understand!

Neither do you.

Do you love me?

I think I still do.

She cries. He cries.

Then there's silence.

2 months later - 

This is it,

I can't take it anymore!

Whats wrong with you baby?

No, something's wrong with you.

We need a break,

But we can work it out.

You don't seem interested!

Fine then, get out!

He turns left. She turns right.

They both part ways.

2 months later - 

Baby I am missing you..

I have missed you a lot too.

Can we have each other again?

Sorry I am getting engaged.

You don't love me anymore?

I got over you.

My parents are more important.

There's nothing else that I can do.

He cries. she cries.

And seeing both karma laughs.

Broken

Childhood innocence has been long forgotten,
Stripped off the shell of protectiveness,
Remnants of the broken carousals are floating in the air,
A broken voice can be heard begging for some love and peace.
The scene changes to a bright sunny day-
The air was full of the screams of children playing nearby.
But sooner it all started to fade out,
Cause he has come to her holding in his hands a bunch of roses.
He assures her that the stems are without thorns ans so is his love for her,
The screams of laughter and joy permanently halts.
She was shocked for she was not expecting the courtship.
But he was an expert in wooing and winning ladies,
This female would become his perfect trophy, he had thought,
But the poor girl had no idea about all this.
She gave in to his sweet words of love, affection and commitment,
She gladly accepted the roses.
That brings us to the present now,
Where she can no longer move ahead in life nor look back,
There is nothing to hold on to,
The deception has robbed her of her heart beat,
She is just a mourning soul, a broken toy of her own fate.

Ice Baby

A shield of turbulence,
Protects your ego, your modesty.
Your body is as smooth and hard as marble-
And inside lies a heart made up of ice.
Your cold stare can freeze the wildest of river,
The counted words that come of your mouth,
Cuts like a knife on raw flesh.
Once a lover, but now a statue of stone-
And I have sacrificed myself to make your heart melt.
I have cried a river at our loss,
But you are too cold and inert to care.
Gone are those days of love and laughter.
Gone are those instances of trust and faith.