A beautiful young nymph going to bed- Jonathan Swift

There are some poems that are unforgettable. Purely because of the courage of the writer to express grotesque truths through the powerful medium of words.

I remember reading this in my second year of college. Almost moved us to tears.

Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane,
For whom no Shepherd sighs in vain;
Never did Covent Garden boast
So bright a batter'd, strolling Toast;
No drunken Rake to pick her up,
No Cellar where on Tick to sup;


Returning at the Midnight Hour;
Four Stories climbing to her Bow'r;
Then, seated on a three-legg'd Chair,
Takes off her artificial Hair
Now, picking out a Crystal Eye,
She wipes it clean, and lays it by.
Her Eye-Brows from a Mouse's Hyde,
Stuck on with Art on either Side,
Pulls off with Care, and first displays 'em
Then in a Play-Book smoothly lays 'em.
Now dextrously her Plumpers draws,
That serve to fill her hollow Jaws.
Untwists a Wire; and from her Gums
A Set of Teeth completely comes.
Pulls out the Rags contriv'd to prop
Her flabby Dugs and down they drop.
Proceeding on, the lovely Goddess
Unlaces next her Steel-Rib'd Bodice;
Which by the Operator's Skil
Press down the Lumps, the Hollows fill,
Up goes her Hand, and off she slips
The Bolsters that supply her Hips.
With gentlest Touch, she next explores
Her Shankers, Issues, running Sores,
Effects of many a sad Disaster;
And then to each applies a Plaister.


But must, before she goes to Bed,
Rub off the Dawbs of White and Red;
And smooth the Furrows in her Front,
With greasy Paper stuck upon't.
She takes a Bolus e'er she sleeps;
And then between two Blankets creeps.
With Pains of Love tormented lies;
Or if she chance to close her Eyes,
Of Bridewell and the Compter dreams,
And feels the Lash, and faintly screams;
Or, by a faithless Bully drawn,
At some Hedge-Tavern lies in Pawn;
Or to Jamaica seems transported,
Alone, and by no Planter courted;
Or, near Fleet-Ditch's oozy Brinks,
Surrounded with a Hundred Stinks,
Belated, seems on watch to lye,
And snap some Cully passing by;
Or, struck with Fear, her Fancy runs
On Watchmen, Constables and Duns,
From whom she meets with frequent Rubs;
But, never from Religious Clubs;
Whose Favour she is sure to find,
Because she pays 'em all in Kind.


Corinna wakes. A dreadful Sight!
Behold the Ruins of the Night!
A wicked Rat her Plaister stole,
Half eat, and dragg'd it to his Hole.
The Crystal Eye, alas, was miss't;
And Puss had on her Plumpers p---t.
A Pigeon pick'd her Issue-Peas;
And Shock her Tresses fill'd with Fleas.


The Nymph, tho' in this mangled Plight,
Must ev'ry Morn her Limbs unite.
But how shall I describe her Arts
To recollect the scatter'd Parts?
Or shew the Anguish, Toil, and Pain,
Of gath'ring up herself again?
The bashful Muse will never bear
In such a Scene to interfere.
Corinna in the Morning dizen'd,
Who sees, will spew; who smells, be poison'd.

A hamster is NOT a rat.

It is THAT time of the year, when I want to be gloomy (NO, I hardly PMS you know-it-all's). But anyhow, there is nothing outstandingly amazing that's been happening. Or maybe I'm wrong. As the blog progresses and if I can come up with earth shatteringly positive news, I'll mention it. For now, this. And since I'm tired out, right from my aching brain to my over-walked toe nails, I'm going to bullet point these.

> The corridor provides the BEST view- for the others to look at you and snigger.
> Scatter brain-ness is the worst hit disease. It's going to cause the downfall of the entire humanity. But as for now, I'm infected.
> Self obsessed, mirror hogging, I-want-everyone-to-hear-my-telephonic-conversations,staring into space and at my face frequently, randomly switching on the light in the middle of the night, room mates are a PAIN.
> Being forced to laugh at the worst jokes. Because he decides your pay cheque. So suck it up.
> Laughing uncontrollably at the stupidity of those bad jokes. Unfortunately though, he decides your pay cheque.So shut it up.
> NO facebook. Even worse- No gtalk, for 9 hours. Daily.
> View of fresh defecations early morning at the train station.
> Oh Why oh WHY the heat. And the lack of taxis
> Early mornings.
> Anything early.
> Sun burns.
> Wanting to watch movies, but no money. No company. No way
> Over dose of ear phones and blaring music, to mute the outside world.
> Thinking of a new "fitted" career for myself.Everyday.
> Old age setting in.
> NOT being able to yawn and stretch in office.
> Not being able to find a better profile picture.
> Mondays'.
> Over time without pay.

I think I've said enough. Expect a positive post from here on.

Shawarma.

And NO, I don't want your BRIEF, even if it's creative.

This is where I crib, complain, question and rant. I rant, question, complain and I crib. And I do some more of this, here. RIGHT HERE.


There, THAT feels good.

"Calling from the corridor"

Recent Musings :

My work place has the old school attitude. Not in the annoying way, though. Only all forms of virtual socializing with the outside world is banned. Which is why we started an in- house, secret conversation mail. And yes, we know it's all tracked. But as I always say, the maximum damage cannot be more than losing our job. And anyway, my college seems to have produced a better 'displacement ' committee, than the counter.

Apart from being watched by at least 4 pair of eyes, all the time, through glass doors, work, all in all, is pretty decent. Maybe because I get no time to exercise my negative energies into disliking it, since I'm loaded with work from morning to evening.Or maybe because the place is actually growing on me. But most importantly, work keeps me busy. And busy is GOOD. Busy is necessary.

Upcoming/Recent events:

This month seems like a promising one. Hotness's birthday, two friends' upcoming visit, family time, and SALARY :)

Recent Plans/activities :

Everyday religious walk from work to station. I've decided to finally give an outlet to my cramped up thoughts and happy-to-scribble fingers, and so a little diary sits inside my messy bag. Cork on over introspection. No caffeine, even if it's for FREE. Serious plans on adopting a little Hamster. Raju, sadly, has left us, without a goodbye.

Miscellaneous developments

Replenished food cupboard. I've finally dropped my pay cheque in the bank. Got anti-glare glasses.
Also, corn on left foot. Frequent urges to bing more, right after a hearty meal.Sarcasm and cynicism, it's a "hello,welcome back" to you.


More updates later. For now, I'll call it a night.

" We're good performers stuck with bad audience"

I was made to read a blog entry day before, by my office partner, auburn leaves about her funny school play. And while I read through those 200 words, my mind started racing about all MY goof up's that made college so much more fun.

I remember this particular play that we did in college. We had the option of NOT doing it and doing a boring, 50 slides presentation instead. But we knew we had it in us, that enthusiastic, waiting to be unleashed, star performer. In all 5 of us. And so we put our ideas into action. I think it was the heat that got us not thinking straight- Aditi Sharma and Amrita SaiMarla were going to play the main lead. Only tiny problem with that was, we had an insufferable need to giggle on stage, and practically ruin the entire show. So the easy solution to that was, we would resolutely NOT look at each other through out the play.Amrita was to play the character of a crazy, hyper father. And I was the cynical, orthodox pandit. I don't remember practicing for the play at all. I only remember basking in the glory of how everyone would be blown over by our sheer brilliance on stage. And I could already imagine that smart A + right across my grade sheet.

The day came. But it never went. We were the last group to present. The play started fine. We all knew our dialogues, the class class seemed to be enjoying it. Our professor had the approving Mona Lisa smile plastered on her face. SO far, so good. Till Amrita decided to look into my eyes. And by default, I looked back. It was that split second of devastation. And all hell let loose. It is amazing how synchronized our laughs could be in that moment, and no one to appreciate the perfectness of that. Our laughs were super sonic, and I could almost feel the glass windows crack a bit. The teachers smile faltered. The class, too, knew it was the cue for them to match the wildness. Anyhow, we tried to pull ourselves together, but the damage once done, was done for good. To cut a long story short, we screwed up royally. Half of Amrita's dialogues were delivered by me, mine were delivered by someone else who played a mute character. The 'mother' in the play forgot all her's and just stood there, staring into space. the protagonist almost swore loudly and basically out of embarrassment, I kind of burst into flames. But I was still laughing.  The play was supposed to be concluded by one person, but we all pitched in, to save the day. Ofcourse, there was nothing left that could save the day.

A similar incident took place when Ching and I were performing on stage. " Way back into love" was the hot favorite song in college at that time. And THIS couldn't go wrong. We started with the duet. The song was half way through. When suddenly the strumming seemed not entirely right....I looked at Ching from the corner of my eye. Her face. Was red. That was not a very smart thing to do. You do NOT look like that on stage. Because that can make me laugh.

...We still thought we were unbelievable on stage, all three years of college...

Live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse.

This one was long over due. Since this marks a new phase of my life. This phase comes with a mixed bag of events and situations. But primarily, I'm a WORKING woman now. As squeamish as those two words make me feel, I think I'll just pass by saying something that sounds splendid- Pagaar, salary, my hard earned deck of green has made it's first entry :)

Life itself has become a swing, and the constant oscillations just never tire out. The momentum doesn't seem to be dying.

My convocation pictures are out. The one's with the caps and capes. Quite honestly, the picture that people claim is mine could be anyone's.My face is lost somewhere in the mass of black. I'm too busy thanking the stranger giving me my diploma, than realizing that this could be a ruined picture in the making. The camera and I just never seem to get along.

Bombay's becoming a barren land. We hardly ever indulge in silliness. Gone are those nights, when we sit together, reminiscing old days. Mostly because the best of the lot has gone back. And we've all joined the crazy rat race, together.

The ambiguity of life does not go, once work starts, quite contrary to popular belief. It doubles, and it keeps playing in your mind, all the time, louder than before. I guess what work DOES teach you, is to tune it down when it gets too blaring. And more so, how to live with it.


More later.