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Saturday, November 08, 2008

Wedding Bells

I am getting married. Bringing this eternal pursuit to an end. (I can hear someone chuckling at the back). 

This blog has witnessed a lot. So it deserves being informed about its protagonist settling down and ending his deliriums.

This blog has a lot to do with the marriage too.

This blog is what made me think that I can write. I wrote. Some people (nuts, jobless, curious, socially challenged and lots of hot chicks) actually read my posts and left some silly comments. To which I replied in a much sillier tone.

One such cool girl who I called Yummy in my blog (who I met in one of those losers meets (HBMs)) once in a while used to come to my place to play with my dog. We never really bothered to fall in love or do anything like that. We just played with the dog once in a while and then we drifted.

I think chance favored us (and the dog. Shredder is not with me anymore. He is living with my maternal uncle). 

Serendipity, Randomness and popcorn at Imax brought us together. This time the popcorn tasted better and the movie looked brighter. So we decided to it (watching movies and a lot of other stuff) together till the end.

In her words, its our destiny. 

If you are a blogger and left a comment in my blog before, you are cordially invited to my wedding (and blog about it).

If you are a nobody and are here by serendipity and randomness, you are cordially invited to go through our presents section at our wedding site

For an electronic copy of the wedding invite, drop me a line.

Needless to say, there is a post wedding cocktail party at Foo. Drop me another line if you are in Hyderabad, I will send you an invite.

Thank you all. I (we) love you.

(For the sake of this blog, I am renaming Yummy, 'Simily'. 
More tales from Smiley and Simily soon :-))

Sunday, June 29, 2008



How do I isolate love, observe love and quantify love?

How much do you love her? Do you love her? Oh, you have been in love? Are you in love?

There were times I wished love was just a verb. Like in making love.
There were times I wished she just stayed under the blanket and had never left the penthouse.
There were lot many times when I just wished she was with me (for whatever).

I sometimes wonder and dissect to see where this love thing was or is.

Is it in the countless number of hours we spent together discussing my dogs farts to her belief in destiny. Is it under the recliner under which we have rolled too many wine bottles. Is it in the bathtub we made unlimited love warmly wrapped in cinnamon flavored bubbles. Is it in the vacuum that's created in her absence.

Is it in the dreams that we saw together. Or is it in the path we took to walk towards the dreams? Is the acting of walking together love? Is it in the misunderstanding or is it in the understanding of the misunderstandings? Is it in her bubbly bosom or is it in my (occasionally) pumped up chest?

She ignores. She cares. She loves. She loves to submit. She loves to win. She hates. She hates her hating. She cries. She laughs. She cares a fuck. She has her own life. She has her own values. She listens. She doesn't. She loves privacy. She intrudes. She looks beautiful. She looks normal. She looks hot. She looks irresistible. She cooks. She doesn't.

I wish I could blanket all the experiences, walks, emotions, my reactions, differences, dreams and acts under one blanket word called 'love'.

I wish I could be as simple as 'I love her'.

I wish I could encapsulate everything with a set of words like 'lovers','friends', 'companions', 'life partners'.

And/or, everything and all of the above.

Unfortunately, I am not a slave to words or definitions of those words or descriptions to how we should accept/reject those words. I am sometimes immune to wisdom. I am sometimes immune to convention. I am immune to 'above,below,right,wrong,should,must,is' and most abused word 'real'.

Real love. My 'love' for her is 'real'. (My urge to mate with her or my urge to go to movies with her or my urge to share my life with her or my urge to raise kids along with her somehow look not so real and somehow not so right).

I am.
She is.
We are.

We intend to be.

We promised each other that. We understood that.

I am not going to confuse this with word play.

But if you ask me, yeah, I love her. I have no doubt about that. But somehow, I love 'we are', than I love 'love'.
And there was a beautiful view
But nobody could see.
Cause everybody on the island
Was saying: Look at me! Look at me!
Laurie Anderson, Language Is A Virus