Caught sleeping at your desk

Top excuses to give when you are caught sleeping at your desk:

1. They told me at the blood bank this might happen.

2. This is just a 15 minute power-nap like they raved about in the last time management course you sent me to.

3. Whew! Guess I left the top off the liquid paper.

4. I wasn’t sleeping! I was meditating on the mission statement and envisioning a new paradigm!

5. This is one of the seven habits of highly effective people!

6. I was testing the keyboard for drool resistance.

7. Actually I’m doing a “Stress Level Elimination Exercise Plan” (SLEEP). I learned it at the last mandatory seminar you made me attend.

8. I was doing a highly specific Yoga exercise to relieve work related stress.

9. Darn! Why did you interrupt me? I had almost figured out a solution to our biggest problem.

10. The coffee machine is broken.

11. Someone must’ve put decaf in the wrong pot.

12. Boy, that cold medicine I took last night just won’t wear off!

13. Ah, the unique and unpredictable circadian rhythms of the workaholic!

14. I wasn’t sleeping, I was trying to pick up contact lens without hands.

15. Amen.

 

Courtesy: www.lifeisajoke.com

I promise

It isn’t a promise for a lifetime… its much more… that much I can promise 

How real it could be?

We managed to get on the flat top of the strange looking place. Although the climb was a little more than a 5 storied building, it did not leave us panting. Climbing it was rather fun with the nice even slope, but I am sure Elf wouldn’t agree.

It was beautiful, the sun was high up in the sky, yet one didn’t feel the heat. There was steady breeze, neither hot nor cold just perfect.

Just then I saw these HORSES galloping, oh where they beautiful!!! Three of them, white, and two browns. As they got a little closer I realized that they were much larger than the regular horses, much, much larger. Oh! How I wanna ride them. Although I am shit scared of horses because it’s really difficult to keep the balance, one just keeps tumbling on either side of the narrow seating saddle. BUT THESE, Oh these horses had nice WIDE backs. I am sure the balance would be much better; also their bones might hurt less with such nice thick coating of muscle over them.

I started running, following them as they had passed me and went some 100 odd meters ahead while I was musing about riding them. I was running, pulled in by their magnetism, forgetting the rest of the gang or rather not knowing if they were following me or yelling for me to stop.

I reached a strange looking ruin of some man created fort of sorts. It was falling apart and was clearly not in the books of ancient art history or precious monuments because there were creepers all over it and was black with years of battle with the hard hitting weather. It was still very beautiful, in a very crude sense of the jungle, it was beautiful.

The horses disappeared, Oh Shit!! Now What Do I Do?!?! I have no idea where to go from here or how to go back. CRAP! I looked around and saw a narrow path, very faint, but it was there. Went ahead and saw a sharp turn, I believe it’s a narrow entrance in the structure, caused by some fallen loose stones of the wall. So reluctant but strangely determined I peeped inside, saw wild flowers and trees all over. It was jus the same inside as it was outside. So I walked in, went about aimlessly, being in awe of the beauty of the untouched jungle.

I heard rustling of dried leaves or maybe (just maybe) it was a cheerful sound, I couldn’t be too sure, for it died out as fast as it came. I thought it came somewhere from the right, yea I guess I should check what it was. I started walking from in between the jungle. There were beautiful flowers with colours as vibrant as I’ve never seen before. I saw this bright magenta one. Oh was it Gg-oO-r-G-e-o-U-sS o what?! I had a violent urge to touch and eat it. I wondered if it was normal, aah what the heck! I grabbed one, plucked it and put it in my mouth. Oh the taste was incredible, like nothing I’ve tasted before, yummm. No wonder the bees freak out on brightly coloured flowers, they just taste So Good.

I heard the sound again, this time it was closer and it jerked me out of the magnetism of the hypnotic taste. I moved forward and could sense a lot of people, may be it’s a tribal community loving here. Oh wow, that would be fun! I moved forward, there was an opening of sorts in a wall, some 10 feet away, this one was bigger and there was a lot of light on the other side. This must be it, this is where they live. I must go and check it out. I reached and pushed myself on the other side. The sight, unbelievable as it may seem, was truly extraordinary and wonderful.

There not very far from me were the three magnificent horses and when I shifted my focus to the wide expanse of the truly dream like jungle I saw the most wondrous creatures.

There were huge brightly coloured birds, llama, giraffes, deer, and squirrels – mighty big ones too. Oh and a little further away, lazing in the shade was a Panther! A PANTHER! ohmigod was it awesome or what?!

I tried to move about soundlessly as to not disturb them and startle them with a human presence. But I had a feeling that although they didn’t take notice of me, they seemed to know I was there and didn’t mind it. I moved a little further and just then I saw the strangest of all sites. They looked like monkeys but were nothing like the 3 of them, 2 big ones and a kid. The elders were holding two trees on either side and had entangled their tails with each other and the baby was sitting on it and together all three of them were swinging oh! So much fun!

They had such peculiar eyes, perfectly round and really big – reminded me of the powder-puff girl’s eyes. There was about half an inch of bright magenta border around them. Without realizing I had moved closer to them and now I could really see the eyes clearly while they kept on swinging while looking at me. The eyes seemed to be smiling with their crystal clear shine and the magenta border. Even when the mouth was still the eyes were smiling. I could see myself only a dark silhouette in their eyes. All that running around and moving about in the jungle had surely messed up my hair.

I couldn’t stop myself from saying, although I knew that there was no way the monkeys would understand what I’d be saying, but before I could stop myself I uttered “My turn next”. I knew I said it because I could feel my mouth move but only a very strange sound came out, and something stranger happened next. The kid jumped out, looked at me with those smiley eyes and turned to look at the live monkey swing. It really WAS my turn.

iWish

“All I need is a little love now and then, but some chocolate will do for now.”

- Lucy Van Pelt -

iAgree

 

“Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.”

Smiles and Forgiveness

Brighter and lighter

The world seems now

Sooner or later

I will escape and how!

The sun seems glorious

And dances on my windows

My actions less notorious

And are more left indoors!

Again I am willing to fly

And take that flight

The birds in my sky

Are showing the green light!

When the time comes

I will hop, skip and jump

Till then I will wait

And avoid the bump!

I see a myriad colour

Pumping at the start

The smell of squalor

Leaving my heart!

Smiles spread across

From ear to ear

That leaves my soul

So far from fear!

Gone will be those days

When I will stress

For the angels above

Are finally here to bless!

I will dance till I die

But live to see that wee hour

With a twinkle in my eye

That won’t be sour!

I thank you all

For the good times and bad

But I know the fall

Wasn’t that bad!

So all I can leave

Is happy trails all the way

And let my heart forgive

For you deserve it and so do they!

Brighter and lighter

The world seems now

Sooner or later

I will escape and how!

The sun seems glorious

And dances on my windows

My actions less notorious

And are more left indoors!

Again I am willing to fly

And take that flight

The birds in my sky

Are showing the green light!

When the time comes

I will hop, skip and jump

Till then I will wait

And avoid the bump!

I see a myriad colour

Pumping at the start

The smell of squalor

Leaving my heart!

Smiles spread across

From ear to ear

That leaves my soul

So far from fear!

Gone will be those days

When I will stress

For the angels above

Are finally here to bless!

I will dance till I die

But live to see that wee hour

With a twinkle in my eye

That won’t be sour!

I thank you all

For the good times and bad

But I know the fall

Wasn’t that bad!

So all I can leave

Is happy trails all the way

And let my heart forgive

For you deserve it and so do they!

Explanation is the worst form of offence

 

Those who know you will never need it and those who do, do not understand you so in that case they don’t deserve it. Something of this sort I’d read somewhere. True I say, it’s very much true.

Note: There is a thin line between reason and explanation and sadly some don’t know it

 

Reason is the logic behind an action

Explanation is the justification for any action

Those who know you will never need it and those who do, do not understand you so in that case they don’t deserve it. Something of this sort I’d read somewhere. True I say, it’s very much true.

Note: There is a thin line between reason and explanation and sadly some don’t know it

 

Reason is the logic behind an action

Explanation is the justification for any action

Heroically lost, heroically found…

The renditions of one’s soul are boundless. Sometimes it’s a starchy old thing and sometimes as nouveau as the first rains of summer. But I am yet to figure out what is my soul made up of. Sometimes I do things that would even amaze a saint and sometimes I do things that would make a pirate feel proud. I can’t handle the dilemma and the dichotomy that my soul presents in front of me everyday… today there might be a glorious sunrise in my soul with bright yellow beams shining all over and tomorrow it would be murky and evil. Sometimes I am scared of myself and sometimes I can’t get enough of myself. I wish I could just runaway from it but it’s such an integral part of my being that it refuses to leave me…even for a moment… I was always searching for that perfect companionship all my life where I am not judged because of my words or actions but I am loved and respected for the same… sadly, little did I realise that I wasn’t going to get what I want. That’s when in the tandem of things I feel that my soul is heroically lost and then heroically found in the later moments of life…

There are…

There are poems that write,
And there are pizzas that bite

There are songs that sing,
And there are bells that ring

There are dancers that glue,
And there are cats that don’t mew

There are moonlights that swing,
And there are dresses that don’t cling

There are pockets of sunshine,
And there are empty glasses of wine

There are stilettos that break,
And there are eyes that ache

There are broken wings that flap,
And there are hands that don’t tap

There are chairs that creak,
And there are tales which aren’t bleak

There are suns that rise,
And there people who do otherwise

There are woods that crack,
And there heads which need a whack

There are dreams of foggy winter lights,
And there are nightmares of arctic nights

There are dark rubbery lips,
And there are swaying pirate ships

There are men, who epitomise perfection,
And there are some who know the art of seduction

There are donuts that are hard as clay,
And there are wits that hardly weigh

There are eyes that resemble a cool summer breeze
And there are shores that never meet the seas,

There are roses which sting the bee,
And there are women, who cannot be me

You…

You stand alone, in the humid place and enchant yourself. A droplet of sweat runs down your neck… And suddenly the cool breeze combs through your hair… a sweet musky scent it carries… it caresses your face…You are thankful, you are obliged, you are overwhelmed, you are blessed. Although you don’t remember when it came and how it died…

But for the breeze, I know, she traveled many miles… just to touch you and feel you… now she takes along your fragrance; like the bittersweet memory of a long lost lover, wherever she goes… she will be bubbling with glee and happiness of having met you… She tells every new face she meets, that she touched you… and your scent to her bosom she keeps…

She does know, that she’ll soon have to die… but she doesn’t regret; for she holds you close, as she loved you the most… And every time she takes a new form, she’ll come to meet you, as the wind, the rain, the sand, the fire, the ash, the smoke or the froth… She’ll touch you, love you and will bury herself dead and be born again, knowing that her only purpose of life was and is… YOU…

In search of memories…

It’s exasperating to think how well I remember you, every miniscule detail – it seems to me that the essence of your being is etched into my mind with golden liquid paint. Your memory continues to sink in deeper and deeper so that one day all that my life shall be, would be an extension of this memory.

Nothing is so permanent as this, no change in this, only I continue to get molded more and more into different shapes, but my void remains but a void.

Everything that remains incomplete has a much stronger memory than those that we aspire and achieve. The broken edges jab at my heart every now and then and I long to reach out and touch something that will sooth the pain. Our lives are but reflections of the cosmos that envelopes us, it is rich with the things we touch, the hearts we love, the tastes we swallow and the rivers that we go floating down. Every life is but a fleeting moment in the endless continuum of time and space, each likened to the other, linked by a thread that is only too bare but unbreakable.

But it is not to despair, for although a meaningless life as this is, there are joys too. We look for happiness in every little crevice of this universe, standing tall as we do, each one is a manifestation of the untold truth, as the centre of the universe…at the centre of the universe; we are all the essentials of our own little world. For man, and indeed all animals, life begins from the core, our egos – the self. For it is in all our similarities and differences that constitute each self, every one of us is a strategist in the world’s warfare. In being who we are we are constantly changing, moulding re-moulding ourselves in accordance with the ideals that constitute ourselves. And it is in this Herculean change that we find the constancy that we crave for. What an odd little world.

I digressed.

The moment is lost; you are lost in the depth of my memory. I cannot close my eyes and feel any longer the wet kiss on my nose. Will my memories fade? Will another one overshadow this memory? If all our memories happen only to be written over then what is the meaning of our experiences. The present is so fleeting and yet man gives up his all just for a moment of ecstasy… a single moment of the emotion that he craves for. The tears that I shed have no meaning any longer, for that was in the past, and my present will not form a memory, as vivid as it is in passing, in the future. But a lingering fragrance must remain and I guess it shall remain… Our lives are like traces of a perfume that we had put on once, our memories are its fragrance, at its best when it has begun to fade, but a whiff returns to us its former glory filling our senses with fulfillment of remembrance…

Trumpeting the Trump life…

I’m not trying to make anyone jealous here but I have some very exciting news to share…I’m sure it’s only because of all the charitable work I’ve been doing. Well, that and let’s face it, I am kind of a big deal.

See, I’ve been sent a very special personal invitation to join Donald Trump himself at a very exciting seminar held right here in my town. Not only was I personally invited but I received 2 complimentary VIP tickets. That’s right bitches; Don and I are tight like that.

Apparently I’m going to learn about property investment and how to be a Real Estate mogul. It’ll even teach me how to be my own boss..er.. Forever.

Now, the card only had a small sample of all the great things I’ll be learning but it does put emphasis on the fact that (and I quote): “This is what I have learned the hard way, in the streets, fighting to grow my empire and fighting to stay on top”

I’m not really sure what kinds of things you learn on the streets of Park Avenue but I’m sure it’ll be very eye-opening.

I’m pretty sure the signature is authentic and the card is hand-signed, after all what better things could he possibly be keeping busy with?

Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you while I’m off living my lavish lifestyle and making millions simply by looking at buildings.

*ROTFLMAO

Letters…

Dear Homeless Man,

I hope your tap-dancing lessons are going well! I found out today that you have a twin brother, who looks exactly like you. Does he have the same Nike Shoes as you? If so, I think I may always think you are the same person. Sorry for the confusion, no wonder you looked at me like I was the crazy one when I asked you if you ever got a new oar.

I saw you and your brother fighting today. It saddened me deeply – families are the most important people in your life. Perhaps you were fighting over a female? Trust me, that bong woman who yells at people on patios and tries to grab their food is not worth a family feud.

Sure, if she stopped doing the crack and brushed her hair a little she could be pretty. If she ate something she could even be quite lovely but I’m sure there are more ladies for you two to deal with? I thought I’d let you know that that new wave you are doing with your hair? Very Donald-Trumpesque! Dress for success they say!

Kudo!

Alice

Optimism has a power cut… !

Respect

I looked for it, but I could not find it,
I called for it, but then I quit.
For days and nights I wished for its presence,
and waited in the dark, engulfed in silence.

I tried so hard to let it come,
even turned into a slave, for I could not run.
Why can’t they see that I am a human and must be treated like one too,
I have changed my life, looks, attitude, and still don’t know what to do.

I am no longer who I used to be,
for my heart is scratched and hate is all I can see.
My mind hurts from the pain I have lived with,
my eyes rain harsh tears that plead for death, and I am losing faith.

I begged for them to show me that they at least care,
but their hate, torment, and torture are all they can share.
My heart is bleeding, my mind dissolving, and my soul weeping.
And still, I have not received what I wish for I am still waiting.

My reflection looks back at me brutalized,
for it too has felt the torture of the world through my eyes.
Why is it that I have been chosen by all,
to be scorned, neglected, and wait for death’s call?

My dreams even show me in a terrible state,
for the rest of my life I know I just can’t wait.
My time is running out, and my spirit is dying.
So please, give it to me before I stop trying.

I can’t wait anymore for those around to show me,
that I can be respected, and loved for all to see.
I am human and have a soul,
one that should be loved and cared by all.

Waiting for forty winks…

It’s more of a brawl with me and the world around. People have come and gone but my idiosyncratic beliefs have always stayed back. With the emergence of my new mental capabilities and observational skills, somewhere life is back to square one. It doesn’t feel good… it doesn’t feel bad… it simply feels anesthetized. Have met quite a lot of people whose claim to fame has been understanding the nuances of my brain… people keep saying they know me and ‘understand’ me but somewhere they are oh so wrong… its nothing to do with the way I am or the way they are… somewhere I feel there is a gaping discrepancy between thoughts and perceptions… I don’t hate them… I don’t love them… I simply pity them… somewhere I hate sitting on the pedestal with the pink champagne twinkling in my crystal goblet… sometimes I wish I was someone they could relate to… probably someone easier to understand… probably someone who could be like them… as time flies away from my glass window, I sit back and laugh at the world around… not because of self righteousness but out of world misery… my penchant for the unusual and the extraordinary fail to arouse me from my gloom as the day somewhere has nothing to hold… the bourgeoisies taper my soul and cling to the fringes of my existence… no matter how hard I try, the feeling of helpless does not evaporate… no matter how much I beg, these iconoclasts refuse to leave the race of life… the hovering continues like an infuriating honeybee… the droning spirals in my ears and seeps into my heart… I wake up from my reverie to find the nauseating drink splattered on my muslin gown… the crystal mingling with my blood and the pain knowing no bounds… I sigh in despondency… throw my head back, not in pain or despair… but out of my sheer will to survive this grotesque world… where there are irate wolves and jackals under a human’s hide… where there are poisonous butterflies who pretend to be breathtakingly beautiful… where the world is nothing but a black coliseum… and look up at the sky to find my guiding light… the light that is the rationale behind my survival… and I see you… smiling… mocking… cajoling… my soul… and I chant my swansong to you till I wait for my forty winks to envelop me forever…

Ouch!

Look at the poll….! Jeeezzzz! I am amused and flabbergasted…!

Time to know the truth of life…

Somebody told me that my life is erratic, has crossed all limits of insanity and somewhere I will shock and scare myself if I look back at all the things that I have done and threatened the world to do (not that I regret it though!). I confess that I have a tendency to get into unimaginable situations and then my foot-in-da-mouth syndrome puts me into deep shit! But who cares… that’s me and always will be me…!

So guys its time you have to decide for me… yes the only time you get to decide my life… it’s a rare opportunity for sure… so go ahead and take the poll… lemme know your reviews on it then… have fun…

My Version of Cafe Gazing…

I take a sip of my cinnamon flavored latte. The sickly sweetness of the syrup offset by the rich bitterness of the dark espresso. Luckily my favorite chair, by the fireplace, is vacant. The ultra-suede still slightly imprinted with the shape of its last occupant. As I remove my gloves and toss my jacket carelessly across one of the arms, I catch the eye of one of the girls at the next table over. She gives me the quick smile of one stranger acknowledging another and continues chatting with her friend.

I tuck my feet up under myself and open my book. The guy beside me is engrossed in a copy of Shantaram. He casually sips his Styrofoam-encased coffee while idly turning a page. With a gust of cold air the door opens and a young girl joins him at his table. Her enthusiasm is a deep contrast to his relaxed demeanor. She tells him of her dance practice for the annual function of her college, her plans for her next years education including a semester abroad and maybe a wild trek in the summer, if she can find an internship first, to pay for all the incidentals. Her speech is peppered with interjections (such as “like”), making it hard to concentrate on the meaning of her sentences.

I smile and think of a recent conversation with a good friend, worrying about her vocabulary. “I need to work on my vernacular,” she laughed, “I mean, I still say “like” and I’m doing my masters in Sociology. Maybe I should enroll in English 0130.”

There’s a man typing away on his laptop, barely audible over the coffee house music, a pacifying blend of piano chords and string instruments. His glasses are neatly folded and placed on a book beside him. Every so often he gets up for a cigarette, for a refill, for a bathroom break. The intensity with which he is concentrating on his screen reminds me of my boss filling his financial reports and I imagine this man is doing the same.

A girl heaves into a chair across the room, sighing loudly as she places her text book down. I recognize her as the girl who made my latte. She works here a few days a week while she’s in University studying chemistry, economics or perhaps philosophy. The free coffee and quiet place to study almost make up for the endless parade of odd people she deals with on a daily basis.

I pull my gloves and jacket on, in preparation for the chill that awaits me outside. It’s not yet that cold though there’s the feeling of a crisp chill in the air. The quiet, brittle cold and lack of clouds almost guarantee the morning will bring the gloominess of a new sorrow. I adjust my jacket and step outside, the soft chords following me as I make my way up the street, back home.

Waiting for better days…

It can only get better” they say tritely
“Next year will be different”
“Things have to start looking up for you”

Every year I go through these bouts. These periods where my mind can’t stop thinking negatively. I want to curl in a ball on my couch and never leave the house. I don’t eat all day or I eat everything I can grab. I feel like crying but my eyes are selfish and hold the tears to themselves.

I wear pajamas from the moment I walk in the door and find excuses not to answer my phone. I watch TV but don’t really see anything. I can’t sleep so I try reading, I try sleeping pills, I try a bath. I try tea, I try writing, I try lying in bed thinking of nothing and everything. I try imagining somewhere hot, and listening to waves on a beach.

I am awake but my mind is confused. How did I end up here? Like this? Lonely, sad, unable to express myself and not understanding what it is that has brought me down so low. Some nights I might go have a drink at my very own Cheers with friends but this is a temporary distraction.

I wander around the museum for hours, wishing I could disappear into the paintings, into the sculptures and be a part of history instead of making my own. I wander around the library even longer – until the librarian announces the imminent closing – picking up books and flipping through the pages.

I read comedic memoirs which remind me all too well how mine would suffer in comparison. I read serious books about war and crimes against humanity. They say misery loves company. I read books about love, about pain, about reality. Sometimes I read a book so densely and intricately worded I have to reread paragraphs three times just to understand what is happening. These are my favorite of all; they take up the most time.

Once the cold goes away, once the grass returns, once the sun again has the starring role and not just a cameo, I’ll be okay. But for now, for now I’ll sit waiting.