tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259588992024-03-07T16:32:44.691-08:00JUST FOR JOLLY, I MEAN IT!Love. Hate. Opinions. Rants. Poems. Prose. Randomness. Me. You. Us. The Universe. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-65331001420544436202015-11-17T04:51:00.000-08:002015-11-17T04:55:07.734-08:00Presenting the Telugu rom-com!<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i>Film: Bhale Bhale Magadivoy</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cast: Nani, Lavanya Tripathi</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12.8px;">Director: Maruthi Dasari</span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rating: 3.5/5</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We've always wondered why actors in Tollywood never try their hand at comedy. Well, that's probably because not all of them have the sense of comedy and comic timing à la Nani.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The film starts out with all your formula elements — rich boy loved by his family; he's the only son; but he has a problem - and this time around it's absent-mindedness. He grows up to be a scientist and then one day spots the love of his life as she helps some children across a road.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, we've seen this as many times as you have. Our female lead, Lavanya Tripathi is also a well-tried formula: she's loving and caring; is a kuchipudi teacher; is daddy's little girl and she's really petty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">She also seems to fall immediately in love with the hero for reasons incomprehensible to any girl in any city across India today. Yes, she falls in love with him because: he donates blood; helps poor children and beggars; plays carrom with an elder and always forgets about his dates with her — you're 100% irresistible perfect magādu!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">By now, you've figured how formula-ridden the film is. But wait, I haven't said it isn't an entertaining film. As predictable as the storyline might be, Nani keeps the energy and fun going non-stop. You're left smiling all through the film and the climax, (though, really silly) twists the tale safely enough to ensure full audience satisfaction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="il">Bhalé</span> <span class="il">Bhalé</span> Magādivoy is a family film. There's nothing obscene. Nothing too serious. And nothing you'd take back with you home. Except the music, maybe. The music is amazing! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Tyāgarāyar kirti Endarō Mahānubhavulu (though much-altered) is pretty much in the OST all through the first half. It sounds beautiful and we promise, you'll be humming the ditty much after the film ends. The rest of the songs are pretty hummable too and the title track is immensely catchy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Maruthi Dasari has ensured a sure-hit film and has kept the storyline relatively simple. If nothing else, the film surely entertains. Take your friends and family for this one - perfect end to slow weekend celebrations!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Watch this film for: The continuous comedy track which is the crux of the storyline, some amazing music and equally hilarious performances by some of the smaller characters. This is a feel good rom-com,Telugu style.\</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">— L Romal M Singh</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLwzi5oelrw" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">Endarō Mahānubhāvulu from Bhalé Bhalé Magādivōy</span></a></div>
Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-60758857454410675232014-02-13T10:05:00.001-08:002014-02-13T10:05:35.570-08:00To the ex, with love ♥<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes people grow up in a lifetime, and sometimes people
grow up in a matter of seconds. This Valentine’s, I thank God that I have finally
grown up :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I’ve never really thanked you for the love you showed me
when I most needed it, and while I have behaved with a certain juvenile
tendency in several situations, this is me apologising for all my shortcomings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I am grateful for all the affection and love you shared with
me, whenever you were able to, and even if life has chosen separate paths for
both of us… I wish you the best of luck in everything you do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I am happy you found love, and if you haven’t, then I shall
pray that you do. I might have cut off from you, but that is not because you
are a bad person, it is just because I am weak. I cannot share people who I
consider ‘mine’… guess sharing and caring doesn’t come to me naturally :P</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">That said… THANK YOU once again for some great memories and
I hope we cross paths someday in the future as friends, or who knows, maybe
more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Life as always, is unpredictable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Happy Valentine’s Day…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I hope this message finds you in good health.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">P.S. You are remembered every single day and I hope that
brings a smile to your face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">- Romal.</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-72669238682706339052014-02-11T15:46:00.000-08:002014-02-11T15:46:11.806-08:00Bad memory.Anger. <br />That's all I feel right now.<br />
I opened out myself to you.<br />
I gave you every inch of me.<br />
Every pretty inch.<br />Every single ugly inch.<br />
I let you know my every secret.<br />
You.<br />
On the other hand. <br />Lied.<br />
Cheated.<br />
Treated me like shit.<br />
I wish I could reduce you to a bad memory. <br />Because, for the first time in my life...<br />I know someone who deserves nothing more than that.<br />
You are a bad memory.<br />
You make me taste pain.<br />
You make me want to retch.<br />
Hopefully, all those fluids we shared...<br />
Will leave my body soon enough.<br />
I want to skin myself alive.<br />
For having let myself be touched by you.<br />
I want to burn my lips.<br />
For they still remember you asinine touch.<br />
Burning passionate anger.<br />
WHY?<br />
Why do I always choose the wrong ones.Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-65480528766395709032013-12-10T12:32:00.000-08:002013-12-10T12:32:23.536-08:00Vent.<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A post of mine on a confessions page:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I've always wondered... are there any gay men out there like me, who don't really have body image issues? I choose to be as I am, so that I find someone who loves me for who I am, naturally... but, I guess that is a pointless thing to hold onto in the gay community. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most people fall for who I am, personality wise, character wise and then slowly realise they aren't into the physical me. Somehow, that makes me more stubborn... the more people say that they want me to change, so I'd be more acceptable to their ideas of what a 'man' should look like... the more I want to hold on to the real me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The more men who claim to love me, cheat on me, because they are attracted to 'cuter' and 'hotter' guys, the more I want to stay just the way I am. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some might call me stupid... and others might say I might never find someone... but if changing myself to please someone else's stereotypical and often shallow perspective of what a gay boy should look like, is the only way... I've decided, I'd rather stay single. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Most people would already know who I am... the rest of you would give me unsolicited advice on how I must change... so that at-least the people half-interested in me... will take that further extra step. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I, have however, decided... to stay the same... and if I remain single for the rest of my life... so shall it be. I refuse to change myself physically for someone, when I am super happy with the way I am... Changing as a person is a good thing. But changing my body, just so someone feels the need to have sex with me, seems super pointless. This is just an opinion that needed venting.</span>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-87116377288559635312013-02-04T09:00:00.000-08:002013-02-04T09:00:31.339-08:0050 WORD REVIEW: MIDNIGHT'S CHILDREN<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAA_kk2cnu42QTZNIJVaE9S9KuftIhzNLPI6jWa7LVin9pkLIiZp1k1fKcwiRLJKbamc8yzj5RNzVB_TFPUoWMzC56H77eJ_nvgXDv-yZ_wOtYgOpuCrTz6mgq-zBDgUuxntR/s1600/Midnight's+Children.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAA_kk2cnu42QTZNIJVaE9S9KuftIhzNLPI6jWa7LVin9pkLIiZp1k1fKcwiRLJKbamc8yzj5RNzVB_TFPUoWMzC56H77eJ_nvgXDv-yZ_wOtYgOpuCrTz6mgq-zBDgUuxntR/s400/Midnight's+Children.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.8435427178628743" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 19px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">History has never been so immensely watchable. A mythical fairytale based in an irrefutable reality, coloured liberally with great performances and an even warmer heart. Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children is a must watch for all true lovers of all things India, Love and Beautiful — in that very peculiar order. </span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; white-space: pre-wrap;">elromal@gmail.com</span></span></div>
Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-27381153051407927372013-01-29T06:23:00.001-08:002013-01-29T06:23:54.418-08:00Hail Laishram!The progenitor of the family must be proud, for we excel in all fields. The most popular Meiteis in 2012 are Laishrams and there must be a reason... I just need to find out why... till then... I take pride in being a Laishram myself.Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-77718543223954352192012-11-25T13:34:00.001-08:002012-11-25T13:39:18.722-08:00Yes, I am now Anti-Sinhala, for life.:: After almost two-years of non-stop research and trying to be non-biased... I am now angry and nothing can change my opinion... The Sinhalese are today's Nazis and there's no lighter way of saying it. First, they suppress a culture out of a superiority complex, then they use the armed forces to cause terror and when the suppressed retaliate and ask for equal rights... they call them terrorists?<div>
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Worse still, the world watched as massacre on massacre occurred... the finalé, just a few years ago! I am ashamed of being an Indian today... of being from a country that decided consciously to avoid helping a terrorized people, just a few kilometres across an ocean. I am ashamed of having no power to have changed the situation and promise to strive towards earning such a power in this world. Someday, I shall avenge these massacred innocent.</div>
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I also promise to never visit the Sinhalese dominated parts of Sri Lanka... and wait till access to the Tamil parts are opened to visit this Island Nation. </div>
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Also, I would request Sri Lankans that I know to please un-friend me... because I will never be able to look at you without judging you as a gutless, ethic-less, barbaric and murderous people. I have no respect for you anymore.</div>
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<br />May the justice of the Lord that I believe in avenge the lives you so heartlessly took... and may I be an instrument to remind you, every day of my life... of how you can also be considered lowly and unworthy of a separate identity.</div>
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I curse everyone of you, more so the educated ones, for being silent and un-reactive as your government massacred a whole people — all for the sake of showing who was actually in power. I am disgusted by this nation and its ethnic majority — may they all burn in hell. ::</div>
Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-6607214267095772762012-10-08T10:36:00.000-07:002012-10-08T10:36:31.784-07:00If only...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXy4nnuj1xxPyxC7ZPEbH1JpmkZGDN1FhnXc2WUirg-RzA10mSJN5JdjcPYCSak9nXkg6IxrcJ3-8rvhmhpYLsmdPXHMe3dZhJbu5RKM2-6Sgs4sxsV_COuS8lVHGQds0WmTkJ/s1600/Pride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXy4nnuj1xxPyxC7ZPEbH1JpmkZGDN1FhnXc2WUirg-RzA10mSJN5JdjcPYCSak9nXkg6IxrcJ3-8rvhmhpYLsmdPXHMe3dZhJbu5RKM2-6Sgs4sxsV_COuS8lVHGQds0WmTkJ/s320/Pride.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This might have worked.<br />Was it meant to?<br />
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<br />Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-44793464194151231172012-05-20T09:54:00.001-07:002012-05-20T09:54:22.513-07:00The Interview with Luke Evans (Unedited)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR6qv5jd50cG77j4E4JoJ-BA6yBMqeSYlfnpSC-5T-NogBPQFAvL-YE7xgS6H8O36RnsT4quMJaFWOG6jagZOBN-pYr73SSaX-TNPdFfEI-NOzRaQQ95av84523kJpykDSziZ/s1600/Luke+Evans1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR6qv5jd50cG77j4E4JoJ-BA6yBMqeSYlfnpSC-5T-NogBPQFAvL-YE7xgS6H8O36RnsT4quMJaFWOG6jagZOBN-pYr73SSaX-TNPdFfEI-NOzRaQQ95av84523kJpykDSziZ/s320/Luke+Evans1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The Raven seems like a love-fest for anyone who’s an Edgar Allen Poe fan… what preparations did you undergo to ensure you played Edgar Allen Poe as close to what he might have been like, even if the character was fictionalized?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When you read Poe’s works, you see how prophetic he was, how many genres he invented and the many styles he was capable of. You see the comic side of him, someone who's taken the comedy and heightened it to be fantastic. Once he gets caught up in his own genre, you can go back to his letters and pull the language. That just felt like a great thing to do. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We felt for sure we didn’t want to do his little moustache, because we wanted to stay away from the Charlie Chaplin postage stamp thing. As much as I love that, I thought it would be limiting. And because he was dirt poor and an alcoholic, I got as gaunt as I could, I got down to about 190 pounds, which is below what I was in high school. Then you just immerse yourself into the material, all of his letters and writings, and get into that spook house vibe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>With so many references to so many Edgar Allen Poe mysteries, how did you (the cast and the crew) ensure to keep the fictionalized tale of The Raven (the film) close to the original script? Were there occasions where you decided to experiment and deviate… considering these were timeless Poe mysteries you’ll were dealing with?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Raven is a fictional adaptation of the life of Edgar Allen Poe, and brings to life the world of Poe’s poems and short stories, combining it with multiple elements of classic thriller movies. The basic idea was to portray Poe as more of a character in one of his own stories to get a whiff of his imagination. By having Poe become a part of his stories and then having to deconstruct his own story, you get to hear Poe on Poe. It was exciting to replicate Poe’s work and bring to life some brilliantly horrific moments from his murder mysteries. We have used some of Poe’s works like ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue,’ ‘The Pit’, The Pendulum’ and ‘The Tell Tale Heart’ to an extent that they depict the dark perceptive world of a writer, by taking viewers through his work. It took some amount of adapting and trying out different ideas in order to get to the essence of Poe convincingly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>You seem to have a passion for roles that are extremely different and a penchant for the supernatural. Does The Raven indulge in the supernatural element that defines many of Poe’s works… and was inspiration taken from the celebrated poem itself? Also, what leads you to these films?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Aren’t we all attracted to the abyss? It’s poetic. Who doesn’t like Halloween, the day of the dead, the supernatural, ghouls, the underworld, dreams, and nightmares? It’s an interesting character and headspace to explore. It’s not something I want to stay in but it’s nice to visit it. The Raven does bring a certain supernatural element in its delivery. It skews the barriers of fantasy and reality. It is riddled with fictional stories, while containing factual information about Poe’s life. The symbol of the raven serves as an obvious but satisfying metaphor throughout the movie, shadowing the death of the characters in a role that’s similar to its symbolic function in the poem. The poem’s central theme is also replicated through Poe’s own life in the film. I think it’s more luck of the draw that I am getting darker roles these days. I also think it’s easier to make [a] smart, dark thing than a smart and more comic thing. For some reason, recent comedies have gotten more simplistic, when I don't think they necessarily have to be that way. But that's okay. It's okay for things to come in shifts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>India will be seeing The Raven after most of the world and so the reviews are already out. The surprise element, if any, in the film, is not necessarily going to be its selling point. What do you, as someone who played the role of Edgar himself, feel makes this film a must-watch?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think the reason why people should go watch this film is so that they can enjoy a piece of mystery as it existed in Poe’s writing. If watching this film makes you go back to read his works, we would have succeeded in creating what we wanted in the first place. This is a film which will appeal to lovers of goth, suspense thrillers and detective fiction. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Shanghai was a film we’d hoped to see in India, how was the experience working with a largely Asian cast, shooting in Thailand and working with Gong Li? </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To do something that has a big budget, with a great director and actors and to work with a script that has that quality and level of writing and production design is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I got that with Shanghai. My co-stars in the film were ‘the greatest artists from Asia’ and it was an honour to work with them. It was the first time I shot in Asia and didn’t get the chance to explore Thailand because of a busy shooting schedule but I did enjoy the warmth of the Thai people. I would really come back for the people. They seem to be incredibly generous, warm and loving people so it’s very nice to be around them. The crews are magnificent and everybody I’ve met in my brief time off has been lovely. My Shanghai co-star Gong Li was part of my cinematic introduction to China. I was an admirer of Gong Li for so long... A role like this and to work with such great actors is a rare honour. She is such a nuanced performer like a Mona Lisa, with a very subtle way of conveying how the character feels. She's a very complicated and intricate performer. You have to pay attention to not just her lines but her body movements and subtle gestures five seconds before and after those lines.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>From playing the role of America’s most loved poet and detective writer, your next film sees you play the role of one of the country’s most dangerous serial killers — how do you adapt from roles like Poe to that of Robert Hanson?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the role of Robert Hanson in The Frozen Ground, I based my portrayal of evil on crocodiles I’d seen on safari in Africa. To prepare for the dark roles that I play in The Raven, The Frozen Ground and The Paper Boy (where I play a death row inmate), I did Jungian shadow exercises and meditations designed to delve into parts of the subconscious you most want to hide. It helped to tap in to my dark side in interesting ways.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The poet theme seems to run strong and Adult World also sees you in the role of the poet? Are you inspired enough to actually start penning your own verse?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These kinds of roles seem to find me. That’s may be because I do a bit of writing and people think that I am a perfect fit for such literary roles and will be able to understand them better. I have written lyrics for the songs in my film War, Inc so yes; I have some experience of writing in that sense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Serendipity was your last romantic and India still largely considers it to be the best romantic film ever made — will we see that side of you in any films to come?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If I get offered to do a movie about relationships and think it can be good, then I have no problem working on a romantic film. Let’s see when I can do that kind of role again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Have you watched any Indian cinema, apart from mainstream Bollywood films? Bollywood being the industry that churns our most Hindi language films from the city of Mumbai? If so, what do you think of Indian cinema?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Unfortunately I have not seen any films from India yet to be able to comment on them.</span><br />Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-13299012246590912392012-05-18T12:39:00.000-07:002012-05-18T12:39:50.122-07:00I feel like a star already! (unedited version)<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="background-color: white;">I feel like a star already!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i style="background-color: white;">Says <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Iyer</span>, post Sunday’s episode of Aamir Khan’s Satyamev Jayate, as he opens up in a quick fun-filled chat, some adorable masala thrown in along the way…</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">L Romal M Singh</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Iyer</span> is a name that India now knows, and this is a fact! This is a fact especially after the weekend’s broadcast of Aamir Khan’s <i><b>Satyamev Jayate</b></i>, with an episode that brought the issue of Child Sexual Abuse into every TV viewing household across the country.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> has always however been an inspiration, a guide, a listening ear, a friend and a lover to many people in and associated with India’s LGBTI community. But now he’s a household name, all set to contribute even more to his cause. An avid blogger and a self-confessed and irrefutable Twitterati — <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> is as adorable in person as his dimples make you believe him to be.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I am just amazed. It’s beyond words… and I mean it… the whole experience was electrifying to say the least,” begins <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> as we chat on a particularly humid Bangalorean night.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> continues to be the simple human being, this journalist met three years ago on a bright-lit night in Mumbai and the simplicity in his words and sheer incapability to hide true excitement still brings a smile to lives all around him. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“The show was really something I had never expected it to be. I’ve been on TV shows before… and I’ve spoken about these things before too… but the warmth, the involvement and the sheer emotionality of this show overwhelmed me. I am quite surprised I wasn’t a puddle of tears all through,” continues <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> as he describes the show.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“It helped me get comfortable and I was fully aware of how this would be the perfect medium to get my message out. Aamir’s warmth and genuine concern also helped me open up about several things even my <i>amma</i> hadn’t heard from me before — secrets I could never muster enough courage to share. Friends had heard about these memories and confidantes had been trusted with them… but I felt India needed to hear them too and only a show like <b><i>Satyamev Jayate</i></b> could have got me speaking so easily and so frankly about them,” <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> tells us.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Afraid that we’ll remind <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> of memories we’d rather not, we quickly change the topic to the Sridevi surprise and <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> indulges us, with a new zing in his endearing voice. “When I was being readied for the show, I noticed this gorgeous sari being wheeled around and actually asked a volunteer who the sari was for. I was only met with a disapproving mumble about someone random. There was a reference to this unheard of name being made several times all throughout the set and much later I realised that this was a code name for Sridevi. I still smile when I think of all the efforts the team went through to keep the surprise genuine for me. I am really thankful to them,” says <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We prod further…Sridevi and surprised, yes, but aren’t the both of you Tamil? “Yes!” pat comes the reply as <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> adds, “we actually spoke to each other in Tamil, bits that sadly didn’t make it to the final edit of the show. When I saw her, the only words that slipped off my tongue were<i> ‘enakku vishvaasamillai, neenguh nijamaavuh theriyilai’</i> (I can’t believe this, you don’t seem to be real) and she replied,<i> ‘aamaam, nijam thaan…’</i> (Yes, yes, this is real)…”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Meeting the women of your dreams — the root behind your strength and telling the whole country your tale, egged on on by none other than Aamir Khan himself, we’re still left wondering what element of the show caught your attention the most? “I think what Dr. Rajat said seemed to make most sense to me. Respect your elders for their attitude, not for their age. I think a pervert should be called a pervert, irrespective of his age or gender or sexuality,” answers <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And what about the audience? “The audience was amazing. We actually shot this one episode over almost a whole day and the intensity that you saw on screen was only one tenth of what actually transpired on those sets. Aamir Khan was in tears on many occasions and we had to stop for little breaks to just allow the sniffles in the audience to clear up,” <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> shares. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Shooting done and weeks later, the show finally airs. So what does <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> decide to do on the D-day? “I watched the episode with a few of my gay friends and then spent most of the day with a friend, Deborah, at a mall in Thane. What really surprised me was people approaching me a few hours after the airing… asking me if I could pose with them. I feel like a star already! Like that’s not enough… Aamir Khan actually called to check on all of us. Every single one of us who participated in that show! He even asked us if we thought the editing was done well and the likes. He’s just far too amazing!,” <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> tells us.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But is that all, we enquire? “No! Soon enough emails started flooding my inbox and messages began delivering like crazy. That’s when I realised I needed to ensure that it didn’t all end with this. I wanted to continue the buzz and keep the excitement going. Which is why I’ve announced and invited entries for a repository of materials on Sexual Abuse Awareness — I want this to go on and <b><i>Satyamev Jayate</i></b> has come forward to help me there too! They’re just amazing people, doing amazing work,” <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> explains.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With hardly any time left to spare, we conclude by asking <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> why he chose to do what he did and he quite brilliantly answers. “We all have ways to deal with these grave wounds. Wounds that will never really fully heal. Cinderella has her music and her belief system, Ganesh had forgiveness and his passion for work. I have the need to spread awareness and will do everything and anything within my capabilities to ensure that the word gets around. No child should ever be forced to stay quiet about sexual abuse, ever again,” <span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Harish</span> concludes. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">romal.singh@dnaindia.net</span></div>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-88129633668247615122012-01-25T14:02:00.000-08:002012-01-25T14:04:12.602-08:00An open letter to someone I wished I had never loved!<div style="text-align: left;"></div><span style="line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It finally is over… I had hoped it never would be, but it is… and I am a loser for falling prey to you again. So what was I? A random guy who would look after you, take care of your expenses and blow you when you were horny? I hate myself for having been reduced to just that, all the while assuming I was in LOVE. It took you one month to replace me, no? Just ONE month… and what for… Because I asked you to love me in return!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 14px;">If I mattered even a bit, wouldn’t you have tried? You always knew that I was just waiting to take you back and believe in the lie that you helped create… so what was it that changed?</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You didn’t love me, no? I’m sure that was it… because if that was not the case, then you are just evil. So for my own sake, I shall remember you as a young boy who fell out of love with me… because if you did love me — what you did was not what anyone deserves, not even your worst enemy.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 14px;">Take care and for your own good, stop using people so selfishly… it will all backfire one day and you will have no way to counter it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 14px;">You, or who you made me to believe you were, will be missed. Your true form in all its vileness however will not. And please, no amount of psychological counselling can help someone like you. You enjoy being a victim and I am sure you wanted to be portrayed as the victim in this relationship too. But that cannot happen, because, unlike you, I loved you… and till yesterday evening when you decided to show me what I am really worth… I was willing to die for you. You were my everything and now I pray and hope that I never meet one as monstrous as you, ever again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 14px;">You were a bad dream and I hope I wake up tomorrow and you never even existed.</span>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-76629516933417293132011-12-12T20:42:00.000-08:002011-12-12T20:46:52.806-08:00Fin?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplmctSp_rzOZaa-9PuU0OCAIn5-y4NQoWCYKgEDRmfgkQ_1sU8wB2Eu6L4Vlv1bZ5nnlOlfjG3_DRkGJ0HpWwEkiqoWjHpoBFJjhG49rsCxmCS-GmrytfZjyMg9_2FenKCuLk/s1600/pictures-of-people-walking-away_1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplmctSp_rzOZaa-9PuU0OCAIn5-y4NQoWCYKgEDRmfgkQ_1sU8wB2Eu6L4Vlv1bZ5nnlOlfjG3_DRkGJ0HpWwEkiqoWjHpoBFJjhG49rsCxmCS-GmrytfZjyMg9_2FenKCuLk/s400/pictures-of-people-walking-away_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685469028666934082" /></a><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <title></title> <meta name="GENERATOR" content="LibreOffice 3.3 (Linux)"> <style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> </p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Why does it seem like this is the end?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I hoped this would last longer...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I was wrong... I guess. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >Pic Courtesy: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; line-height: 16px; ">© vampire-zombie.deviantart.com</span></span></div><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><p></p><p></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-85097406506403207662011-12-08T05:30:00.000-08:002011-12-12T20:47:29.596-08:00LOVE is ALL.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvhyphenhypheneb8pW41baenO8O6yT6a-o2mLRVgjV3g4RxHL-tPMGvFhi4xtzVvrhk4k2HNGaH7rqM9mR0WnfKxUXuYIEibQjECbkF5oOWuDCocooq14QRu1rDQpypD6UhvfQ1Re-FDyM/s1600/i_love_you_by_meandarksmile-d3fwnmf.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvhyphenhypheneb8pW41baenO8O6yT6a-o2mLRVgjV3g4RxHL-tPMGvFhi4xtzVvrhk4k2HNGaH7rqM9mR0WnfKxUXuYIEibQjECbkF5oOWuDCocooq14QRu1rDQpypD6UhvfQ1Re-FDyM/s400/i_love_you_by_meandarksmile-d3fwnmf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683751359946331106" /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I LOVE YOU. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">© Cayton Cox</span></span></div>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-55641122151615141942011-11-28T04:25:00.000-08:002011-11-28T04:30:21.411-08:00PonnKaalam, PonnTamizh and my PonnDaatar :)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbREUM9EcDI/TtN-nt97R4I/AAAAAAAABZg/MiBdmK64R7w/s1600/DSC01077%2B%25281%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbREUM9EcDI/TtN-nt97R4I/AAAAAAAABZg/MiBdmK64R7w/s400/DSC01077%2B%25281%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680022775863658370" /></a><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">A golden time has come... the rains lash across my homeland, filling the rivers to a full, brimming like never before... has the age of the plenty come back to reclaim its scorched plains and confused people?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Green seems to have taken over a brown that I was far too used to.</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Tamilakkam shines... PonnTamizh is back... maybe it's time for another Sangam?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">But has our thought become ripe-enough? Do we radiate self-actualisation like ripe mangoes perfume an orchard just before the mango showers?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Do our lips quiver with the need to spout beautiful words of heavenly sounding precision?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Do we tremble with anticipation of a chance to speak of wisdom and near-divine levels of literary perfection in thought and action?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Does our every action evoke the endless pregnant fields of the richly-watered flat valleys and the golden crops that sway to winds of the mositure-laden North-Eastern monsoons?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Have we finally reached that melting point of suffocation when expression in all its myriad forms burst forth in every possible medium we have come to represent with?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Or am I deviating from what really brings joy to my mind?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Do I see fruition in everything, only because my mind seems so full of vibrance and colour, that I feel like dancing, singing, floating... flying?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Listening to some wonderful verses in prose and poetry in a language as sweet as milk and honey, browned and caramelised by a rustic local culture that brings palpitations of a divine kind to my existence...</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">I am suddenly reminded that most of my joys come from finding love...</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Love in it's all encompassing form...</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Love that allows you to fight, to make-up, to rage, to calm, to have passion, to share compassion, to whisper, to shout, to smile, to frown, to cry, to laugh and most of all to care and be cared for...</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">The love for an identity, for a culture, for a people and for a civilization has just been equalled by the love for a person... and I am still left wondering... when the *^!@ did all of this happen?</span></span></span></span></em></p><p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in"><em><span ><span ><span style="font-style: normal; "><span style="font-weight: normal; ">Image courtesy: </span></span></span></span></em><a href="http://say2daffodil.blogspot.com/">http://say2daffodil.blogspot.com</a> :)</p><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-35873193857742062172011-10-28T22:54:00.001-07:002011-10-28T22:57:03.211-07:00Raat Ka Nasha :P<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWbVEptzteA9UhmeJNEocaQRX1V21QkSW9FVemjpCeORmP-NN1hVCDusn7v0sHuyHLUPUh3MmyUg78aClBKsrq8BwjfswrU5k1V6Bqeq64uJTUtiREfojEXurD5ftQhwyFMgX/s1600/6048_239939545135_685940135_8523338_6777355_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWbVEptzteA9UhmeJNEocaQRX1V21QkSW9FVemjpCeORmP-NN1hVCDusn7v0sHuyHLUPUh3MmyUg78aClBKsrq8BwjfswrU5k1V6Bqeq64uJTUtiREfojEXurD5ftQhwyFMgX/s400/6048_239939545135_685940135_8523338_6777355_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668788634929790722" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Every inch of me smells like you...<br />It's almost like I carry you with me...<br />In that smile, in that quick giggle...<br />In that distant glance, shiny and magical.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Last night hasn't left me, will you ever?</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span">*smile* *blush*<br />*hides face*</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; ">Pic: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; ">©Navdha Dhingra</span></span></span></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-44430585122287452902011-10-24T00:44:00.000-07:002011-10-24T00:49:42.811-07:00Is it me, or is it you?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymau75G82NB1fFKHvl-BtDlh56-850JpgfwCknsTwXtg_bszD987Njz7N6ohYvX0cAumPj-CC1RzT2zcQKDa3O2QUJTQLBBQpjEM6C9f7HpnIB6TlLvSvEZ6RJzdG3EAsrZlF/s1600/5.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymau75G82NB1fFKHvl-BtDlh56-850JpgfwCknsTwXtg_bszD987Njz7N6ohYvX0cAumPj-CC1RzT2zcQKDa3O2QUJTQLBBQpjEM6C9f7HpnIB6TlLvSvEZ6RJzdG3EAsrZlF/s400/5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666961861575260898" /></a><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span">It's like a cool waft of breeze has blown into my life... a breeze that perfumes my every waking and sleeping hour. A perfumed cool draft that wakes me up, puts me to sleep, holds me close when I feel unloved, embraces me in my weakness and teases me silly.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span">The way it fondles me, when I am slowly swirling into those self-indulging throes of ecstasy, the way it makes me want to cry and laugh as it whispers sweet nothings into my ear, the raspy vibrations that it streams through me, leaving me begging for more, and satiated at the least — this is my breeze of life.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span">Gently caressing me, reminding me of the fruity fragrances born in the land of spices, embalmed exquisitely with soft pleasant notes of sandal, burning camphor and jasmine, woven into all the lightness of the touch of a cloud or a feather — it makes me want to adorn myself, beautify my existence and believe in myself.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span">Is this what they call love — my breeze, my cool draft, my breath?</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span">Or is this just you?</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span"><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; ">Photo Credit: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; ">© Saina Jayapal</span></span></span></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-20233296829909412122011-10-23T21:25:00.000-07:002011-10-23T21:33:15.177-07:00A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words<span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja72eL_nzfJrQ1HSlcMpG7afwjpxrVPnTAbZOgsuovLCaEY4TGibiHuC35DmOvFRyXOWmKbD0kb8j1r1bDsjHEPBIZJ5TygTVxm45vwtAKRT0xtVptR_UPkwSTH0N2MVAg8BrC/s1600/9.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja72eL_nzfJrQ1HSlcMpG7afwjpxrVPnTAbZOgsuovLCaEY4TGibiHuC35DmOvFRyXOWmKbD0kb8j1r1bDsjHEPBIZJ5TygTVxm45vwtAKRT0xtVptR_UPkwSTH0N2MVAg8BrC/s400/9.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666911368302219698" /></a><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">I hope it was a calm, balmy night,<br />one drenched with that yellow light.<br />There's you two, close enough to bite;<br /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; ">to sore eyes like mine, what a sight!<br /><br />Perched daintily atop one shiny metal beam,<br />your invisible eyes, reflect his gleam.<br />A scene so perfect, straight out of a dream,<br />oblivious to the world around, you two seem.<br /><br />Arms resting on the beam, legs in a stationary dance,<br />a back bent towards him, eyes drinking him in with a glance.<br />Two shiny heads of darkest brown, yellow-gold halo, in a trance,<br />in the streets of of bang and bucks, an irreverent romance.<br /><br /><br /></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; ">The green traffic signal in the background, says GO.<br />The palpable fire red passion, bounds does it know?<br />A signboard "WEAR HELMET", warns you of the foe;<br />And the all encompassing yellow, frames you, just so.<br /><br />Felt like a not so gentle reminder, from up above,<br />that no matter what, men like me, can still love.<br /><br />- Shreedhar Iyengar :)</span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; "><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; ">Photo Credit: </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "> © Saina Jayapal</span></span></div><meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></div>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-48685566369432484642011-09-15T14:06:00.000-07:002011-09-15T14:23:21.279-07:00North of the Vindhyas — No chance!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii64SLfcRA6CdxRRlY0MbjVmKsjMRxUN_Hvrna7-dDe7U6PqDRJk2Ktg3sBNIB73gaDi8h1tm9zAECPkbPBKCkejmUsLrjWGvyZwI50tG2NawLvTSINpKeSzWyYuOHlO-F8Oob/s1600/India.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii64SLfcRA6CdxRRlY0MbjVmKsjMRxUN_Hvrna7-dDe7U6PqDRJk2Ktg3sBNIB73gaDi8h1tm9zAECPkbPBKCkejmUsLrjWGvyZwI50tG2NawLvTSINpKeSzWyYuOHlO-F8Oob/s400/India.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652697876477781074" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px; "><span><span>I'm thoroughly fed up answering a million queries as to why I am anti-North-Indian... and so I decided to instead write my logic down somewhere, so that tomorrow, just in case I suffer from a serious head injury and forget who I actually am, my blog shall remind me of my bias and my bias shall stay close to me, refuelling my anger and ideas — my precioussssssss!</span></span> <span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">But before I begin writing this orgasmic piece that will surely make me smile and jump in exhilaration in bits, let me be the ‘Indian’ diplomat and explain that — I am shamefully generalising and yes, I choose to do so... <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I do not, never will and never have claimed that every North Indian is the same, so much so, some of my best friends are from the North — just that they are more evolved than I and often more than not, are much more broad-minded than I am. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I thank them for accepting me with all my annoying biases, but in the same breath, would like to remind them, that I am allowed to have said biases and indulge in them too. Much like they are allowed theirs. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Simply put — my biases define me to a huge extent, so deal with it!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>LOGIC ABOVE ALL (It simms!) </b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I hate North India as an idea and I stand by every hateful word I utter with a vengeance, when I say this. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">It’s not the people or their customs or their religions that annoy me... it is their identity, that they have chosen and created in the last few decades, that make me want to hate them. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Here’s a 5-point list that in-detail describes why my hatred is justified. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>1) Language Issues:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">India is a country with 28 states and 7 union territories and every single person who resides within these territories are as Indian as anybody else within these territories. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">We might have a capital in New Delhi and Hindi might (as unfair and undemocratic as it might be) be the Official Language along with English — this however does not give anyone any legal or cultural authority to insist on the knowledge or usage of Hindi in any part of the country. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Our constitution quite clearly says that India has no National Language. What we do have is Hindi as our Official Language and English as a Subsidiary Official Language that can be used in lieu or with Hindi. We also have 22 Recognised Regional Languages that can be used in lieu of Hindi or English.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">When the constitution so clearly states that we DO NOT have a National Language... it annoys me when people assume they have the right to question a person’s lack of knowledge or usage of Hindi. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">It’s a free country — we’re allowed to use any of the recognised languages we might prefer to use! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">More importantly, Hindi is a language native to the Ganga belt and so yes, speakers from there are naturally gifted to speak the language in all its subtle nuances and pronunciation anomalies. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Hoping and expecting people from other areas, with different native tongues, from different language groups to speak it like a native speaker is outright ridiculousness! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Furthermore, a person ridiculing someone for their regional accent in Hindi is uncalled for and illogical. You cannot force a new language down someone’s throat and then expect them to speak it as beautifully as you — that’s just common sense!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Of course you will bring up the Tamil issue and all I will say is read up. The Tamil issue was raised to counter the undemocratic proceedings of 1960. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Read: <a href="http://rajbhasha.nic.in/enpres-1960.htm">http://rajbhasha.nic.in/enpres-1960.htm</a><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">India did not need an Official Language from among the existing spoken languages. That is just undemocratic. An Indian version of a foreign language like English would have been fairer. It didn’t belong to anyone and none could claim it, not even the English!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>2) Skin Colour Issues:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Indians who come from a Dravidic/Negroid/Austric or Austroloid racial origin tend to be darker skinned than people from Aryic/Mongoloid and Semitic strains. This is a fact, deal with it!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">On the other hand India is so thoroughly mixed, that no one part of this country can claim to have pure racial origins from any one of these races. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">We are a mixed people and we always have been. Often more than not, it has been geography and language that has united us, not the people we originally came from.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">There will always be super fair South Indians and super dark North Indians and even though generalisations may be the norm, often more than not, you cannot judge a person’s origin by their colour. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I shall not demean the reader or myself by throwing around names... but it will suffice to say that some of our darkest models are often not from the South, while some of our fairest are not from the North.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">And anyone with fairly unbiased tastes will vouch for me when I say; there can be good-looking dark people and ugly fair people.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>3) Geography Issues:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">This is one area that I refuse to be diplomatic about. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">North Indians need to brush up on their geography. South Indian geography non-savants are as rare as two-headed snakes. Even more for the North-East!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The North-East has seven states, take time out and learn to recognise them on a map. Calling someone ‘Chinky’ is as racial as a North-Indian being called ‘Chom’!<span> </span>A Manipuri is not a Naga and a Naga is not a Khasi! A Khasi is not from Arunachal Pradesh and the Boros are a people. Getting yourself acquainted with your fellow Indians will not kill you.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The South of India is not one big state called Madras. Nor does everyone speak Tamizh. Half of South India is actually the two larger states of Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh. Kerala and Tamilnadu are the smaller two of the four states. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Be proud of being Indian, not just North Indian!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>4) Accent Issues:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Exactly how not everyone in the North speaks fluent English, so don’t people in the South. Like how there is a proper accent for every area in the North, so do English accents change in the South. Neither is better than the other. They’re all equally creative and interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Remember just because you were taught something in a particular way, it doesn’t make it right... English being a borrowed language in India can afford to have many rights. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I, for example have a stronger Scottish leaning in my spoken English, because missionaries in Western Tamilnadu were often from Scotland. The same can’t be said of Chennai where the educators were mostly English. Pondicherry similarly will have more French influences, while Goa will incline towards the Portuguese — the lesson being, stop assuming you are correct. Nobody ever truly is!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif""><b>5) Identity Issues:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Yes, I am Indian, but no, I do not like Hindustani music. Yes, I am Indian, but I do not consider Kathak to be beautiful. Yes, I am Indian, but I am not inspired by couplets in Urdu and I am not that into Bollywood films. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I may not be like you, but I am Indian too. I am equally as Indian as you are. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">India goes beyond the popular notion that India stands for. It pains me every time I am asked if I can speak Hindi because I am an Indian. Even worse is when Hindi is referred to when someone asks me if I can speak Indian...!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">India does not equal Hindi or Hindi culture and thankfully never ever will. It’s about time people realised that. Yes, Hindi and the related culture is a huge chunk of our present common identity, but that’s not all of it. The rest of the states, their languages and cultures are equally Indian too!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px; "><b>To sum it all up, I hate what North Indians have become.</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">They have become the carriers of an oppressive culture unawares and are now taking pride in an assumed pseudo-superiority. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The problem however is that, for every North Indian who does not want to see beyond his borders, an Indian like me will redefine my borders without him.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">This might seem like a small ego play in the beginning, but will soon rise into a huge secessionist movement that has already shown signs of arriving. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Let’s just hope India realises what went wrong and rectifies six decades worth of oppression or when the awakening comes, it might just be a tad too late. <span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 19px; "><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; font-family: Cambria, serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span"></span><b style="font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; "><o:p></o:p></b></span></p><p></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-21842350948194813212011-08-20T14:56:00.001-07:002011-08-22T14:52:28.859-07:00The South Indian Gay Me :)<span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O4XdfjN-Ej0/TlA2S-s2GPI/AAAAAAAABNI/rNHRZ2S96Cg/s1600/14885644.jpg" style="font-size: medium; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O4XdfjN-Ej0/TlA2S-s2GPI/AAAAAAAABNI/rNHRZ2S96Cg/s400/14885644.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643070032791869682" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); line-height: 21px; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span"><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">“<i>Panché Katti Kurraallalonee, Panchu Naaku Thelisochindi</i>!” (I’ve come to know that the true ‘punch’ [virility] is in boys who wear the <i>panché</i> [dhoti]), go the lyrics of a very popular Telugu song that’s been my favourite for quite some time now.</span></p><div face="georgia" style="text-align: justify; "></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Why do I like this song? Why do I want to bite my lower lip in a seductive manner, every time I hum this tune or sing these words? Am I a wannabe <i>mass</i>-song dancer whose dream is yet to be fulfilled or am I a ‘liberated’ woman (as portrayed in these movies), trapped in the body of an unwilling man? Or worse still, do I get so turned on by the idea of being so raw and sensually brazen when it comes to talking about a young man’s virility and his sexual prowess I want to violate every code of conduct?</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Lots of thinking, intense speculation, deductions, paraphrasing and debates later, I realize I am none of these colourful people mentioned above — I am just a true, son of the soil South Indian, who loves being brash and really uncouth when it comes to matters of my colourful sexuality.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Do I love singing these songs or what! They are a part of my dosa-bred imagination and believe me when I say, that the most romantic thing I might call a lover is “<i>Tent Kattuh Interval Murukkuh</i>” (Possible Literary Transliteration: Your fried delicious savoury item that is my only accompaniment at a movie watched in a tent!) or even better, I might just ask him to build up his muscles like Suriya (Tamil movie poster boy) and grow a nice <i>Singuh-Meesai</i> (Lion Moustache) to satiate all my fantasies and fulfill his in return.</span></p><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: justify; "><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O7tE3nTM2l4/TlA2sJZSXSI/AAAAAAAABNQ/qcs9Fo0X8k0/s1600/Allu%2BArjun%2B1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 248px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O7tE3nTM2l4/TlA2sJZSXSI/AAAAAAAABNQ/qcs9Fo0X8k0/s400/Allu%2BArjun%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643070465159355682" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">What is it about raw South Indian sensuality that makes it so damn good? This is possibly a question that will never be answered, but I’m sure you understand what I mean when one sees the scraggly unshaven look of Sendhil Ramamurthy as Suresh in Heroes and imagine far more devious things than what passes through my brain every time I see him. Or when one looks at Allu Arjun in all his porikki finesse, strip down to his bare minimum (<i>Deshamuduru</i>) or dress up to sinful indulgence perfection as he did in <i>Arya 2</i>. If only I could sink my teeth into those biceps, and I know you’re wishing for that too and so much more!</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">The South Indian man in all his dark perfection is the new sexual symbol. Be it the bulging goodness of John Abraham (who is Malayali), pun intended or the child-like innocence of the green-eyed Navadeep, South Indian men are the new hot things on the market and they’re selling like hot cakes for good reason.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">We’ve been blessed with good looks and geographical features that make South Indians far more interesting looking than several of their plain faced Aryan counterparts. I’d happily have my fill with a Ganesh Venkataraman, a Karan Rao, a Diganth Manchalé, a Rana Daggubati, or a Naga Chaitanya any day, rather than pursue a supposedly more interesting Punjabi or Jat munda with the same skin tone. The choice is much wider down south anyway and the more particular you get, the more you have to choose from.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "></div><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">South Indian boys and men also seem to have the amazing capability to swing from elitist finesse to lose-all-inhibitions-rawness at the drop of the hat. That surely is a talent worth appreciating and it comes so naturally to most of us. Some of them switch so fast, that most people are caught blissfully unaware of this role change and are often left confused and delirious.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Is it still a surprise why my preferences are so biased? It’s almost like I know that I’m getting so much more even though I bargained for so much lesser! Why wouldn’t I be the happy(er) customer, pray tell? Let’s also not forget how hard it actually could be to refuse being attracted to the child-like innocence of a Vijay or the incontrollable manliness of a Vikram! Are you still in doubt?</span></p></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); line-height: 21px; background-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span"><p style="text-align: justify; ">I hope you aren’t, because it’s time for my daily ritual of worshipping my South Indian demi-gods. I need to concentrate and relish each utterance and movement, for only then will the gods be pleased with my devotedness. If you are as strong a believer as me, then hop onto the bandwagon and the next time you see a fabulous looking South Indian walk by, ensure you let him know you totally adore him. You’ll be earning karma and loads of kama in the bargain. Be assured. Experience speaks. I need to go now, the next pretty thing aka hunk I adore is on TV, and my ritual of drooling, lusting and wanting begins — feel free to join me any time. Lines are always open.</p></span></span></span>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-34265042627779347502011-08-04T14:50:00.000-07:002011-08-04T15:06:17.914-07:00Safe and warm, finally!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isLDouR8b9M/TjsXyDdN1pI/AAAAAAAABMg/Zh-rXp0plbk/s1600/Mathew%25281%2529.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 343px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isLDouR8b9M/TjsXyDdN1pI/AAAAAAAABMg/Zh-rXp0plbk/s400/Mathew%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637125507273053842" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Broad shoulders, deep dark questioning eyes, a voice I love listening to and intelligence, a sense of humour and the wonderful gift of listening — everything I thought impossible to find in just one man. And here you are. Proving all my pre-conceived notions wrong, giving me the hope that I always wanted.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">You’re everything that I could have imagined Mr. Perfect to be and yet, I know fully well, that you will never be mine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Yes, you are straight... I know... and one small minute part of me rejoices that you are. If you were gay and didn’t choose me, I might have had no hope to believe in anymore.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">I can flirt with you because you are straight and you probably think it’s really cute of me to be so shamelessly throwing myself at you — it probably is!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">All I want to know is, am I wrong to want to be embraced by you? Am I wrong to have watched you while you slept beside me, punishing my heart for wanting to hold you and run my fingers through your hair? Am I wrong to want you so much, when you are the ONLY man in this whole world to have ever made me feel safe?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Why do you hug me so all-encompassing-ly? Am I wrong to hope for you to turn gay from every single conscious corner of my living soul? Am I wrong to wish I was the kind of woman you would want to be with?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Wanting to be with you has rekindled the vulnerable me and in the warmth of your ample, beautiful long neck and wonderfully shaped torso, I hope to bury my face, my love, my insecurities and my burdens that I have come to call life.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">So what if I can never make love to you?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">If one day I can hold you and shamelessly show you how much I care, and be held by you, like no other, as my body melts into a warm indulged pulp — I would have seen paradise and hence I shall die peacefully. </span></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-11325162697645310422011-07-26T15:12:00.000-07:002011-07-26T15:20:29.280-07:00My Birthday Wish-List 2011 :)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAoVDWvO-iNveeOUPYH9NgE-h4IcDno_yh09EMjHNwtVhvq0iOrehSYteU1h9DSoAMU1urIuox5ptJoTP_vX8xGjctIkCktYRdaxWKKmRZ0jnhb5oz22vTI9JkMxoVv2ZiRzR/s1600/263594_10150718827995175_855530174_20167059_115826_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAoVDWvO-iNveeOUPYH9NgE-h4IcDno_yh09EMjHNwtVhvq0iOrehSYteU1h9DSoAMU1urIuox5ptJoTP_vX8xGjctIkCktYRdaxWKKmRZ0jnhb5oz22vTI9JkMxoVv2ZiRzR/s400/263594_10150718827995175_855530174_20167059_115826_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633789169133359362" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">Yaah! So apparently it’s my 25th Birthday on Thursday and like every year, I am sure a lot of you wonderful people are breaking your head as to what I would like as a birthday gift...<br /><br /></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">For starters, I don’t really care, as long as there is some sense of utility to what’s being given... The ONLY thing I wouldn’t appreciate would be things like flasks and items that would probably look bearable ONLY in a showcase...<br /><br /></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">I would however much deeply appreciate items of gifting like such...</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">1) Fabindia — Dupattas and Kurtas... please be my guest. I like really long Dupattas and I wear Kurta Size 40.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">2) Anything from Body Shop, excluding bath/shower gels... as I do not use them. </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">3) Books — preferably non-fiction, LGBTI literature of Fantasy fiction. </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">4) Anything made from Handloom or Khadi or of extremely Natural origin. </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">5) An MP3 player. I like Sony :) </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">6) Perfume.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">7) Something that reminded you of me.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">8) Regional DVDs... Ensure I do not already have them though :)</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">9) The whole of Will&Grace. All seasons.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">10) A date with someone awesome. I get to decide how awesome they are. Period.<br /><br /></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">Do not however feel obliged to get me anything, as I am cool with absolutely nothing — quite content with just your warm wishes :)<br /><br /></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">Thank You,</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">The Quarter-Century-Old-To-Be,</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">Me :)</p></span></span>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-85516459263789329322011-06-23T19:12:00.000-07:002011-06-23T19:20:44.925-07:00आपको पाया, तो क्यूं? ♥<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRFfCGZD82vA-EEAVKQGXhhqRqPEj4Fkpm8eiDOxsvUl5-ZDEIobo24H6e_MoPREKJ9N69N-KfTve0YxG-tnGWOTYoXXiVl0z7pFKmLW4zXoqHLN_GtKrrNLU9lewo5zB63N_/s1600/120420101842.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRFfCGZD82vA-EEAVKQGXhhqRqPEj4Fkpm8eiDOxsvUl5-ZDEIobo24H6e_MoPREKJ9N69N-KfTve0YxG-tnGWOTYoXXiVl0z7pFKmLW4zXoqHLN_GtKrrNLU9lewo5zB63N_/s400/120420101842.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621605471878022898" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">♥♥♥♥♥</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">सजदे किये हैं लाखों, लाखों दुआएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</span></span><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">चाहत की तेरी मैंने, हक़ में हवाएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">जिस पल ना चाहा तुझको, उस पल सज़ाएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">उठ उठ के रातों को भी, तेरे वफ़ाएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">ख़ुद को मिटाया मैंने, तेरी भलाएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; font-size: medium; ">चाहे तो चाहे मुझको, ऐसी अदाएं मांगी, पाया हैं मैंने फ़िर तुझे...</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">♥♥♥♥♥</span></span></div></div>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-32920782828370251362011-05-08T14:20:00.000-07:002011-05-08T14:37:13.240-07:00Questions I’d like to ask today.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j4X0jXrm4Mo/TccJ41ctuJI/AAAAAAAAA-M/cf9D7LKGMKQ/s1600/question-marks.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 324px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j4X0jXrm4Mo/TccJ41ctuJI/AAAAAAAAA-M/cf9D7LKGMKQ/s400/question-marks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604459133310711954" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Lunch at Coorg + Ice Cream at Wily Vanilli + Accidental, yet much enjoyed Mall darshan + Early dinner + Onir Anirban’s I AM = Happy Mother on Mother’s Day :)</i><br />Today was Mother’s Day, a day I always hoped that would be celebrated the most, for after all, what are any of us, without our mothers?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Korean dicktease TV series’ + An ex who has no shame and gives haath every single time! + A crazy Japanese TV series that has me believing in second chances.</i><br />Why is it always ‘complete reality’ or ‘complete fantasy’ in my life?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Watched ‘I AM’ and sorry Onir Anirban, but Harish Iyer’s story was way better without you meddling with it. Glad you made the movie all the same.</i><br />Now, why do I hope so much from a movie that I know is going to just be average in the first place? And why can I never really connect with the character of a gay man who faces harassment? I mean I was gay too, before 377, no? So why wasn’t I harassed? Was I that good at hiding something, I never meant to hide?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>You’re hot. You’re throwing yourself at me. You find it easier to crack jokes on how you know I want you and yet you play dumb, also unzipping your fly without me even asking for it? DICKTEASE!</i><br />Why do I find straight, and funnily, available men, hot? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>You say you like me. That’s what we discussed no? On that wonderfully comfortable sofa in the house of that guy who also claims to like me so much? Yet, you also say, you can never be friends with people you are attracted to, so wait... You aren’t attracted to me? What does ‘like me’ mean again? Come on, we both know you really aren’t the type who chooses intellectual over brawn!</i><br />Who are you? Why do you suddenly matter? Yes, I know your second name, so what? You’re the biggest dicktease I know? No wait, you have competition?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>So will you die if you look at me? I have dealt with your hatred for far too long! What did I even do?</i><br />Why do butch lesbian women despise me and transgender queens mother me in equal passion?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>You kiss so well. You’ve set my gaydar off every single time I’ve met you. Rumours abound on how you are an arse-stealer... YET!</i><br />Why is Rahul Bose not out yet, I mean, we all know he’s gay, right?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14pt; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-164355170739515832011-05-01T15:08:00.000-07:002011-05-01T15:12:20.040-07:00YOU deserve so much more.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQwkhvauxZK6qodmEE1vZbYFFBF3espisEbun3Rcral19-qmuKhqJTqXafyvwA_4rJ96TmEeO2wt77QkfOdtXNn8ev7XG0W5NiT2VTnlF-42DhL0vEbsXYzZuK-tyLHSUSlXQ/s1600/Man+in+sand.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQwkhvauxZK6qodmEE1vZbYFFBF3espisEbun3Rcral19-qmuKhqJTqXafyvwA_4rJ96TmEeO2wt77QkfOdtXNn8ev7XG0W5NiT2VTnlF-42DhL0vEbsXYzZuK-tyLHSUSlXQ/s400/Man+in+sand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601873937281640002" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Thank you for reminding me that I am human.</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Just when I began assuming that my life was finally going places, you came in and offered love to me — true love, unadulterated and without any complications — your heart, pure, sweet and lovely on a silver shaky platter — and I chose to walk away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>I am a monster. I hate myself. </b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I can’t look at myself in the mirror anymore, because I am doing what I promised I would never do to someone else. I promised to never hurt someone who loved me and there I was, hurting you — you deserved so much more, so much more. You deserved me a few years ago. You deserve someone who could love you, like you love(d) me — unquestioning, eccentric and hopeful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I wish, I could love you without meeting you. I wish, I could give you my all, without even knowing where things could go. I wish, I was still the romantic I was at 16, trusting in every promise that was rolled out of a willing tongue. I wish, I could love you for who you are and not what I want you to be. I wish, I wasn’t such a hypocrite!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >But, I am not 16 and I am not untouched and I am not unhurt. My baggage refuses to let me take uninhibited steps. To fall in love with you, without ever meeting you, demanded too much of me. I couldn’t even manage to imagine what life with you would be like. I feared, falling out of love, before I even truly fell in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I am still to blame. And you are still the good one. I hope you forgive me and meet me someday, and I hope, I am less confused then. I hope it all works out and magic happens and everything clicks then. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>If it doesn’t — I’ll know I wasn’t worth you.</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I’m still meeting you for your Birthday. I’m no present wrapped in glittery paper, but I’ll at least prove to you how much you’re worth — way more than this pitiable writer, who has lost all faith in his ability to love, unquestioning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>I will always love you. </b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">♫</span> </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; ">All those days watching from the windows... All those years outside looking in... All that time never even knowing... Just how blind I’ve been...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now I’m here, blinking in the starlight... Now I’m here, suddenly I see... Standing here, it’s all so clear... I’m where I’m meant to be... <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >And at last I see the light... And it’s like the fog has lifted... And at last I see the light... And it's like the sky is new... And it’s warm and real and bright... And the world has somehow shifted... All at once everything looks different... Now that I see you...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >All those days chasing down a daydream... All those years living in a blur... All that time never truly seeing... Things, the way they were... <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Now he’s here shining in the starlight... Now he’s here, suddenly I know... If he’s here it’s crystal clear... I’m where I’m meant to go...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; ">And at last I see the light... And it’s like the fog has lifted... And at last I see the light... And it's like the sky is new... And it’s warm and real and bright... And the world has somehow shifted... All at once everything looks different... Now that I see you... </span><span class="apple-style-span"><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">♫</span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Cambria","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:major-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:major-latin"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25958899.post-5714870692712193562011-05-01T03:15:00.000-07:002011-05-01T03:18:31.691-07:00I am someone’s reality. *sigh* :)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6SNtBP3edTJg_haLS9gCX1DhXfE31NNkVLGJ_6Tp1VSmo4lI3vng7VLClD30PbciCKN0FYKHA00L_ScI2t_HNtKio6eYJzYKZZ32V0nz49zGKLrGGMl110tlAn4lr8W4Hpp_/s1600/Shruts+et+moi.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 348px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6SNtBP3edTJg_haLS9gCX1DhXfE31NNkVLGJ_6Tp1VSmo4lI3vng7VLClD30PbciCKN0FYKHA00L_ScI2t_HNtKio6eYJzYKZZ32V0nz49zGKLrGGMl110tlAn4lr8W4Hpp_/s400/Shruts+et+moi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601689540677366802" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; "><i>Nobody has ever written a rhyme or verse for me...</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i> And recently Shruthi Rao did. So, while I know it’s a little too much self-obsession,<br />hey, it doesn’t happen all that often... </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; "><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; ">I had a dream<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; ">Of ice cream and singing<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; ">Of Tamil movies<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 18px; ">With Romal laughing</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >And why wouldn’t he?<br />Because that’s what he is<br />Happiness personified<br />The image of utter bliss<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I kept thinking<br />What is his secret?<br />Neither would he worry<br />Nor would he fret<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >All thoughts aside<br />We spent the whole day<br />Doing silly things<br />That indeed, made my day<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >It was a nice dream<br />One I’d remember for all eternity<br />And then I woke up and realized<br />Romal is my reality :)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Istar Rómestámohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905513110314809424noreply@blogger.com6