Friday, October 29, 2004


"I have two no feet."

Thursday, October 21, 2004


It is only after I have been at my new flat for some months that I begin to receive mail other than bills and offers to enter prize draws.

One of my first personal envelopes contains a scrawled message from an old acquaintance with whom I was friendly many years ago. I am distressed to read that my friend is deeply unhappy, and I am disturbed further to read that if he receives no reply to the letter I hold in my hands he will feel compelled to chop off one of his fingers with a kitchen knife. Days pass, full of inconsequential incidents, until a small parcel arrives. The postmark indicates that it is from my friend. With trepidation I open it.

Underneath the brown wrapping paper is a little box which bears the return address of my friend. There is also a stamp on the box, but other than this the package proves to be empty. I open up the box, but the space within is likewise vacant. A sense of relief floods briefly through me, and my days once more assume a comfortable aspect.

One week later, another identical parcel arrives. It too is empty, and I insist to myself that I will write to my friend. Time drifts past, and eventually I have ten empty parcels. It is on a friday that I realise what I have to do.

With what I feel is admirable forethought I use my left hand to chop three fingers from my right. With the remaining two, I hack off all the fingers of my left hand. In considerable pain I place the fingers in eight of the parcels. There is a lot of blood, and this makes the use of cellotape difficult. With eight parcels wrapped, I hold the knife in my right thumb and forefinger. I look at the last two boxes.

As always, it is my inability to complete any task that drives me to tears.


Monday, October 18, 2004


a great many changes have been taking place. in my head, in my body, in my life. everything seems revealed, seems open. i had a great point to make when i was on the bus(t) last night, but i can't seem to recall what it was. it did concern love though. i realise that i forge fairly strong bonds with people. little people. smart people. people with long beautiful hair. hairy people.

these little smart long hairy people have touched me, not like i touched condi's apples. that might sound a little perverse. but let me explain. when i was in thanadar village, we went apple picking (one verdant tree), and if an apple fell on the ground, or fell too hard in the basket with more apples, one could say that the apple was touched. which is to say contaminated. needs to be thrown out. so, not that kind of touched.

now that we have the various variations of 'touched' in place, i shall proceed with this story. it's always the unexplainable. am i the moon. am i truly the moon?

i get surprisingly upset when one is upsetted with me. i think it has to do with the outbreak of the moon. so here are the significant changes

1. veena didn't speak to me for 2 hours and i cried
2. cori and i have drifted apart a bit and she cried
3. condi is a new addition, from shimla
4. nash and diti are almost an item
5. i miss anchit a great deal

so rucha and i had this whole conversation on depth, people who are depthy and people who lack depth. i really don't know who or what can decide that. i'm always talking about people aren't i?

i'm so full of cock_shit, it's amazing.
(click on the title for snaps)

r e d d e r

i finally coloured my hair red.
i should have coloured it full red
i relied on the advice of the others
ok, i guess

went and met ru in pune
she should come back and live with us
or we should move there

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

twenty-eight minutes

i cycled to work
i'm super_proud

i told them
my plan is fool_proof

the cycle is orange and black

Thursday, October 07, 2004

shiny disco ball

it's been one mindfuck of a more_than_a_month.
i feel the loss of

wedding, travels, trial and error, tumbles and fumbles, love and betrayal. folygamy.

'i feel fine and i feel good
i feel like i never should
whenever i get this way
i just don't know what to say
why can't we be ourselves
like we were yesterday'