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My Dearest This-That Relationship,

I don't want to define you, Y-E-T.
I am happy.
In a weird way.

Just be there.

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The diary of... Jane!

Credits: http://ninamokaka.deviantart.com/

"It was always the same recurring sensation that brought her back to life. Come to think of it, her emotions were beyond the transience of normal as we put it. Normal, so to say, that we could not comprehend their relationship in broader terms.

They, who?

He and her.

He, who caused the pain, who was responsible for the soul-stirring affliction that she bears on her mind all day long. It was difficult to put together what they shared, in words. But then relationships are not to be explained anyway. 

But what I could explain, as a mere observer strictly, was the flaming passion that they shared, how their love was often engulfed by their intimate desire. How she'd go back to him, after those few spasmodic moments of separation. For me, personally, they seemed like two strangers, distant, cold, and entwined together. What held them thus, was unfathomable. I passed it off as lust. Simply done. Simply. Done. 

As I sifted through my daily routine, I was often lost in grasping the emotions often beguiled by the distant eyes. I, personally, without one to count among loved ones, was often left in a need for a romance, which transcends time, and comes with its share of forever-ness. 

Until.

The strangest of incidents often shake us up from the insides. Our thoughts and perceptions go for a toss, and the world seems a strange, unbelievable place, where anything could be possible. 

So, it was a normal day, college et al, when I found the book. What seemed like a lost notepad was indeed lost, but it was her diary. Already perplexed at someone like her penning down her emotions, I threw the ethical code out of the window, and let my eyes go astray...

Distant dreams, far extreme.

Like the blazing window,

That you and I stay away from.

That love, that out-rivals,

The imposed perceptions.

For it is no one, but you,

Who draws me to you, thus?

For it is no one, but you,

Who hath the power to crush my soul?

And scatter the pieces. 

But it is you, only,

Who shall never exalt to such heights, of pain.

For when I cry, 

it is not in sufferance

of a bonded spirit,

but it is with naked longing.

It is with love, 

that none, but our hearts harbour.

And as we converse in dreams,

and touch, skin to skin, 

my deadened soul sees an awakening.

For it is no one but you,

who saw the prettiness in my eyes,

and the gleam in those sundered smiles.

Arresting dreams of sauntering kisses,

with the touch reminding,

of the ever-lasting love.

Your presence, like an eerie-forever,

that rested, oblivious of its need.

For it is no one but you,

that I now love.  

And a few more pages, of crazy snippets called love.

Oh, the gorgeous subsistence, 

laying ground in my thoughts,

where does the love come from?

Oh, where?

And then..

Today has indeed been a complex melange of emotions. You were slightly upset, at the ambiguity that people show to me, and that I trust, oh so without the slightest doubt. You were upset, and you ceased to continue the conversation. I left, slightly perplexed at your abrading ideas. But later, I died. In my arms, late at night, as the love and the care, hit me at once. I feel like a child, innocent, and small. Cradle me in your arms, will you?

A part of me felt small, narrow and was slowly shriveling with a deep sense of pain. I left the book, where she was most likely to find it. Like they say, love must be guarded. 

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No, as you guys would have figured it out by now, this isn't written by me, I wish I was *this* smart to play with words. This is written by THE BIRTHDAY GIRL, Meher,  who among people all I know is one of the best to play with words beautifully, and this post shows HOW! Also, as she forced me, bribed me, and all of that, I do have to say some shit, my traditional shit.

*She is super awesome when it comes to drunk calls. She can totally rip off anyone when she is drunk, and she is on a call. The entire drunk context? That makes up for an entire post, I guess. "You know Arjit, I am Mother Teresa. Or, wait, I am Brutus from Caesar. You know him, right?" "No, I don't, er?" "You are such a drunk loser!"

*No matter what, her belief, her faith in love has never been disturbed -- even when she is sad, "I know, he loves me, we will be together!" is such an inspiration to hear, no matter what.

*The way she used to force me to listen to her retarded jokes on chats. "Hey, hey, I have got another joke. Sunoge?" "Nahin." "Theek hai suno."


*The way, she tells me to give up my "stud" avatar, and be normal for a change -- ha, give me a break, seriously?

There are so, so many small, little things I can write about her, here but guess, I am running out of time, and I am already being pinged, to boast fake stuff about her. *dumbgirlalert*

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And just to finish it with a cherry on top, these are the things I like about her: 
i)
ii)
iii)
iv)
v)
vi)
vii)
viii)
ix)
x)

Go, have fun on your birthday, fellow-sexy-voice-owner. And keep writing, brilliant, brilliant stuff.

This is all for now. Go follow her on twitter, now -- because she is awesome, and she is worth it. 

And as, Kanika ends her posts, "Bahot saara pyaar!" -- not literally.

How to Become a Popular Blogger... (Part 2!)

-To start with, Blogger Stats, showed me the real deal about the blogging world. The most visited post on my blog has THRICE the number of views than the second post, so it clearly shows what you guys, the Googlers, the Bloggers, and the Facebook-ers, want, i.e., to say the least - to face reality, and be popular like these crazy minded bloggers, who are arrogant enough not to reply back to your comments. (I just replied back to all the comments on every post of mine, even the two year old ones, you see!)

 

Also, this is a season of sequels, and prequels, right? Right, come on, now? It is. I know that. And even if it isn't, I'll still post this. So, it's moot. To cut short the foreplay, this post is nothing, but a sequel of one of the most popular posts of this blog. And here it goes:

1. Write letters.

Oh, you seriously think I'm kidding? Trust me, I am not. Write a letter... to anyone, to anything, and you will, I bet, will certainly get a minimum of 50+ comments. Simple. Way. Out. "Letter to a Madrasan girl", "Letter to a Delhi boy", "Letter to your ex-girlfriend", your dick, your ass, your brain, the teacher who fucked you badly with your grades in school, college, your divorced wife, husband, girls, boys, Shahrukh Khan, Salman Khan - ANYONE. It has to work. It has never failed, eh?

2. Anti-Twilight/Bieber posts.

When everything fails to bring you some decent comments on your blog, go out and fetch everyone with your nasty anti-Twilight, or anti-Bieber posts. You see, 25% of the comments I am going to get on this post, will certainly be concerned with this dear Twilight image I added, trying to bash me to death with their Twilight, or Bieber, or even Ravindra-Jadeja-love. But, you want to be popular, right? This is the hard route.


3. Be innovative.
 You think this is an ezine-article, sort of point? Nope, nope. You need to be innovative like this guy.
 

See. You get my point, now, do you. Even if you are writing a simple, lame, retarded post - and you are sure that no one will give a fuck about that post, innovate. This is the most serious, and yet the working point for you to be popular, to hell, for anyone to be popular. Though, mind you - being over innovated can fuck your life, too. Like this:  

4. Advice people on how to be popular!
You get the drift to this post, now, do you?

5. Write some man vs. woman - females vs. males - boys vs. girls post.
Yes, I know. Girls suffer a lot. Boys are lame. We suck. You suck. I suck. Everyone sucks. Can't we all just stop cribbing about it, once and for all? You just can't go on a rampage and kill all the chauvinists; they are still going to be alive, stare at you, your boobs, your everything. This world sucks. And there's enough of it. So, if you are lucky to actually find some decent HUMAN BEING, IRRESPECTIVE OF THEIR GENDER, HOLD ON TO THAT PERSON - and stop fucking cribbing about their gender, and generalize irrationally, for the sake of it.  Though, writing such a post, for the argument, or against it, is certainly going to get you some creep loads of visitors. Go figure.

6. Write depressing posts.
"My boyfriend left me, for another girl." Uhun, go on, I am listening. "I need to write down some sad poems because I was ditched." Ahan, I am still listening, and reading - go write some sadistic poems, for the sake of it, and for the sake of those same, age old, cliched rhyming words. Can you just look at #3, and show some innovation, to show off that you are nothing, but, depressed? Can you? And hey, mind you, we care... a lot, even if you go missing, and don't post for a couple of months. We will be bothered. You doubt, eh?

7. Unfunny comic strips. *
You got nothing to post? Here's what you need to do. "Open Google." "Look around for a decent comic making website." "Pop up your super unfunny idea, and make that as a comic." "With ultra lame, and irritating characters." "Mind you - hilariously boring is a major requirement!" You are certainly up for about 20-25 comments, with nothing than "ROFL", "LMAO", "HAHAHAHAHA", your bad - what do you really expect from the commenter to post, really?

 * - Omit this point if you are one actually funny smart-ass to make some decent, hilarious strips. #Respect No one dislikes a funny strip. :)

8. LEAVE!
Simplest. Way. EVER.  "I'm done with this blogging world, I think I need a life, a serious life." Alright, for sure, we'll see you tomorrow. I get it; you've had all the drama/bullshit/blah, blah, blah, blah, and nothing is just working out for you. "Huh? You think I am kidding. Seriously! I'm leaving!" Leave already, baba. Despite how popular you think you are, the truth is, no one gives a shit if you leave and never come back.  Just leave quietly and never return. "I'm never coming back! Never!" Okay, you are already boring me with you fucking shit - we'll see you in a week or two. Have fun, till then.

9. Fake yourself to be the next legendary photographer!
For God's sake, we have some decent photographers in the blogging world, and they certainly click some brilliant photographs. Why the fuck, do you need to interfere in their genre, just to prove that you are nothing but another retarded being on this planet, who will go to any extent to prove that, well, you want to be popular. Here's way your out; be a temporary photo-blogger, in spite of being clueless about those terms like, focus, light, and blah blah. Genuine Photo-blogger? Respect, again. :) Self-explanatory, eh?
 

10. Pretend that your blog was hacked!
Seriously, you think this won't work? Write a rant, praise Salman Khan, post video links of Bieber's songs, claim that you are a homophobic, a rapist, a thief, a murderer, post nudes, your nudes, your favorite nudes. DO ANYTHING. And then, simple, the next post - "I am sorry for the fuck up guys, my account was hacked." I trust you, it was. There's no way on Earth, you'd get an urge so strong to post so many porn photos in a single post. I know you, little cute fellow!

11. Post your love/hatred for a religion.
Oh, you already did know that, this one is a pure picture perfect, eh? Okay, this one is for the ones who just want views, and comments - irrespective of how abusive, lame, and moronic the comments are. One lame, for the sake of religion post, and bang - you have shit loads of visitors on your website/blog, now. People care, and give so much damn about religions, you have no idea. Go try it out. There's no chance on Earth, it won't work. I bet my ass on this one. Tried, and tested.

12. Bitch about your ex-girlfriend, ex-boyfriend!
Okay, being sad about your breakup is one thing. Being hurt about breaking up is another thing. BUT, BITCHING ABOUT YOUR EX, days after your breakup? This one is class apart, and the best thing about it? You still manage to get all the sympathy in this world. Too bad, your ex is not a blogger, else, well, you know. If you are so scared of being alone, and alone, and lonely, and a loner, and the synonyms are the only sane thing in your life, here's way your out: 

13. Fight over the internet.
"How the fuck did that person manage to steal my followers?" "How come you have more friends than me on Facebook?" "Blame anyone on the internet, for anything troubling you in your real, and virtual life. And sadly, people will care.

...and remember, in the end - 

 

... and thus, I screwed my every chance of getting laid, now or, ever. Thank you very much!

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PS: On a serious note, I have some crazy ideas for some posts, not on the V-Blog, as guests posts, maybe. If you are interested, (Unluckily!) mail me regarding it, at, arjitcapricorn@gmail.com, works, eh?

The Cactus Garden!

"I think I want to visit the Cactus Garden."
"Okay, so, can I conclude that you have gone nuts, again?"
"WHAT? It exists, in REAL, dumbass."
"Get me some photos of that place, then, eh, works?"
"Like a fucking charm, it does... to hell with your bet. I am going there, still, anyway!"


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Cactus garden, is a famous, or may be not so famous, garden. The name is self explanatory, eh? Sailana is only 20 kilometers from Ratlam - (Yes, that city in JabWeMet. #facepalm) is one of the rare places where you can find a wide variety of cacti in different stages of growth and colours. I am not really sure, how old the garden is, but since the ruler of the place hasn't handed over the control to the Govt., (As if the Govt. would have done anything, ha!) and doesn't even live there, as of now, it is kind of poorly managed, the facilities, you may say - minus the only gardener who puts everything on the line to make the garden look beautiful, and well... worth visiting. Take a look at these photographs, and decide for yourself. Simple, eh?

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No, this kid ain't me... lucky you, guys!

And after visiting the cactus garden, thoughts like, "Living my life like a cactus/with a cactus/for some cacti...", and you know, get the drift, please, controlled my mind, for a while - till I visited another peaceful place, near by. Though, accident-prone, but yeah, still.

 

I don't really recall the name of this place, blame the local name of the place... must have been lame, anyway. But, a nice, decent, and importantly, a PEACEFUL spot, this was.(!)(?)
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And to mention, for God's sake, there is always a way to click on a particular photograph, for their increased size, don't fucking crib about it. And yeah, it does feel weird not to rant about anything, for a change. But, the next post? Is. Ranting. Personified. Seriously. Till then!