Ahem, it could be a two prong pun with a clear reference to my Attention Deficit Disorder symptoms and the oh-so-clever-it-should-be-on-TWoP acronym for my largely disconnected ramblings in this post. Age, Diwali and aDate.. and not the kind you’d pick in an Algerian souk or an Omani fruit mart.

Exploding international
The wind did howl
The sky above was thick with rings of smoke
And clouds
And hanging on the bleeding end
Of conscious
Who’s this?
Was there anything I missed
As far as you know?

Why is everyone born in 1987?
I feel archaic, frequently and more so when I am watching deliciously trashy shows about the young guns of Upper East Side and their narcotics, sex and sleaze filled lives. My youth didn’t ever hold so much promise. Dang!

Oh yeah..Hope you had a good Diwali etcetra. Mine was filled with smoke and noise. The excessive decibels completely ruined my festive vibe while silently photographing all the bejewelled buildings in the neighborhood. It’d be terribly cliched to act out the cynic’s part and bitterly criticize a religious/cultural gathering that sometimes seems like a tight and deliberate slap in Mother Earth’s face. Hence, I am going to avoid it. Completely.

And, in the same disjointed vein, I am totally falling for his honey tinted laughter that I have sort of gotten accustomed to, in the last 3 weeks of extended midnite calls. As is fairly noticeable, I am also using words like “totally” and “falling” in the same sentence and I am not a character from Laguna Beach, so that I can only mean one thing – I doth liketh him. Dearly. The mellifluous British accent doesn’t hurt either and don’t you dare label me superficial coz, well, you are reading me, aren’t you?
So clearly, mi burritos, this one is making my knees freeze and noone has had that effect on the mighty Allegra in a very long time. Say a good half decade! 
Also, a clear indication that we’ve left behind the sordid, conceited, emotionally stilted, deceiving liar from circa 2006. This indeed is the commencement of a rather fulsome sort of chapter, this winter. The fact that incredibly dainty and somewhat frilly lingerie worth half my monthly salary was bought in a single retail fit just cements that belief.

Peach knickers with ribbon trimming along the waist. Ah! Perfection is achievable. You don’t even need God or John Keats, just occassional trips to Etam.


~ by iconoplastic on November 12, 2007.

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