tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386864872012-01-21T21:37:49.559+05:30Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comBlogger2521100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-68851042768544289412012-01-11T18:54:00.002+05:302012-01-13T11:28:53.204+05:30

On the radar of today, I'm a blip, Conspicuous, an odd man out. Sticking out like a sore thumb From the hand of this aeon and age. On a sinking iceberg, I'm the tip, Struggling to survive, somehow afloat; A broken guitar string that can't be strummed; In a world of white, I'm all beige; Crusty, like an ancient book's page. I'm the elaborate satin ball-gown, Surrounded by denims

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-55606625727873572252012-01-11T18:21:00.000+05:302012-01-13T11:28:25.640+05:30

Starting the new year with a new post. Happy New Year, everyone. Sunset bathes the sky in red. Perfumed women in silk gowns Walk out, perfect, bedecked - They're ready to go on the town. Joyous music fills the air. People feet start tapping, dancing. Every man has a woman, a pair, And time for loving and romancing. Fireworks fill the dark skies. Happy greetings break out all around. The

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-56726136021099901892011-12-21T11:46:00.002+05:302012-01-13T12:54:03.624+05:30

All the love songs were mine to sing, The world belonged to me completely, I looked forward to the joys life would bring, And it was just us, together, you and me. But that was yesterday, a long time ago, When I thought you were mine, and our love was true, When there was no jealousy, hatred and ego,  And when I still worshiped everything about you. Time flew when we were together. Flowers

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-66573492195174671082011-07-21T23:52:00.009+05:302012-01-13T12:54:28.059+05:30

You're miles away one moment, Unreachable, unapproachable, lost to me. The next, you're right beside me, Like that's where you really want to be. You're there even before I realize That you're everything I need. I know you care for me deeply, Yet you don't mind watching me bleed. You know you don't need me, Yet you never make a move to leave. You're a bundle of contradictions -

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-4118261141597240342011-06-16T20:38:00.003+05:302012-01-13T12:54:53.159+05:30

Very, very soon, I'll see your happy face again. You'll be welcoming me back with open arms. Back to talking for hours about everything and nothing, Back to trying so hard to be immune to your charms. I tried so hard to stay away from you. I thought out of sight meant out of mind. But distance makes the heart grow fonder; Nothing can cut through some ties that bind. Stupidly I believed I

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-29315344188085106782010-09-30T11:44:00.005+05:302012-01-11T19:03:18.900+05:30

I'm going to keep this on my blog. We thought of using my blog to demo social plugins to some people, and Sridhar Seshadri put this into my blog temporarily, but I don't feel like removing it now. I'll keep this as a souvenir.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-36306129818818497842010-07-05T20:00:00.002+05:302010-08-11T21:34:17.106+05:30

This gallery of LibriVox CD covers will be updated as and when I make new covers, and so will be on top of all my posts at all times.  To find my latest blogposts, please scroll down to below the gallery. To download the CD sleeves, please click on the book title and you will be redirected to the audiobook page, where you can download the respective audiobook and the CD cover.  Ramona The

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-53410388829632096542010-06-20T18:12:00.009+05:302011-12-29T23:29:44.925+05:30

Dedicated to Kavitha. When I was a little child, about five to six years old, my grandmother taught me the proper way to eat a mango. "First, you enjoy the smell of the mango. Like this." She kept the fruit a little distance apart from her nose and inhaled. She closed her eyes, savoring the sweet smell that could belong only to a very ripe mango fruit. "You don't cut the mango with a knife or

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-33593453353343095142010-06-06T17:10:00.001+05:302012-01-13T12:48:02.384+05:30

I'm almost there, Almost ready to tumble down the cliff Of greatness, of ecstasy, of wonderment, The cliff above which I right now stand. I'm almost there, Almost ready to fall of the edge Of sweetness, of sanity, of that monument You've built for me, a castle on the sand. I'm almost there, Oh, take me there, and make me fall And make me laugh and cry and yearn For more. Oh,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-4087377484296561572010-06-06T14:38:00.003+05:302010-08-11T12:58:44.171+05:30

1. Why is everyone brainwashing kids that the course/career they choose is a BIG step and that it's LIFE and all that?  That's totally stupid. It makes making the choice a chore, takes the joy out of walking on a desired path. I hope no one I know stuffs such stupid ideas into a kid's head. It weighs down on the kid's shoulders, forcing them to grow up. But really, NOTHING IS IRREVERSIBLE.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-41372874816600341352010-05-30T19:06:00.001+05:302012-01-13T12:53:28.679+05:30

The pale blanket Covering your perfect form Tantalizes, teases - I know what I want to see Is right underneath; The clean jacket On nakedness, as the day you were born -  My imagination pleases, Breaks into pieces, and incites me To tearing apart the sheath. It fits you so perfectly Like it was made for you. A cover to not really hide  What you've got in store; It blinds me

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-72475417072971561852010-05-30T01:00:00.003+05:302010-08-11T12:59:23.460+05:30

No chill wind could make me numb,You've succeeded already.No pain could break me faster,Your words have done that before.Nothing could ruin me anymore,You've been there and done that.So now anything you say will make no difference,Since I'm not what I used to be;You've killed the woman and created a monster,Now deal with it; repent all you can, Drown in your regrets all you want,Because I'm not

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-2673886395236225402010-05-30T00:55:00.002+05:302010-08-11T12:59:40.807+05:30

He dances this way and that,Pulling at both her hands,And forcing her to dance with him.The merry dance waits for no man.They do not listen to the band's playing.Their dance is uncontrolled by the music.They choose to dance slower or faster,According to what their insides tell them. I pause the pendulum in the foolish hopeThat the clock would stop;But time refuses to stand still.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-36802178687224568662010-05-30T00:47:00.001+05:302010-08-11T12:59:57.672+05:30

I'd rather grow older day by dayAnd embrace sickness and pain,Walk bravely forward, And meet my tomorrows, Than look back at the path I've crossed,Run away scared from evil,Recall my sorrows,Wonder what could have been,Remember my regrets,Relive my nightmares, Be rooted to the spot,And be chained to my pastThrough just a few good memories.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-39959760191060377792010-05-30T00:38:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:00:15.753+05:30

I close my eyes, afraid of the dark,And all I see is darkness.I do not want to sleep, For fear the darkness will eat me up.If I kept my eyes open, At least the merciful moon would pity meAnd throw some scant light my wayTo keep the darkness at bay.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-86866978764199104112010-05-30T00:31:00.003+05:302010-08-11T13:00:55.420+05:30

A thousand different ways I try to tell you.A thousand words are born and deadBy the time our time together comes to a close.My throat's constricted, my thoughts constipated.I'm desperately seeking releaseTo my pent-up emotions, to my untold miseries.I'm desperately looking for a way To express, to let you know, to convey.And when I'm finally ready to speak,You say - "We had a great time, didn't

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-23497171513747974152010-05-30T00:20:00.001+05:302010-08-11T13:01:12.519+05:30

I'd rather lie to you pleasantlyThan hurt you like hell.A thousand untruths I would tellTo make you feel happy.Only, you'd rather be hurt,Irreparably so, by me,Than realize later that you'd been lied to.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-49116202432397696752010-05-29T23:58:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:01:35.212+05:30

The fingers have been dancing,Pressing the black and white in turns;The sounds have been touching the earsFor quite some time now.Pages and pages with squiggly notesDrawn over ten horizontal linesHave been torn and thrown away.But nothing seems to dive deep within,Right into the heart.Nothing moves.Nothing touches. Nothing enlightens.Nothing makes sense.Nothing sheds light. Nothing creates

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-21505694812428697282010-05-29T23:31:00.001+05:302010-08-11T13:01:53.747+05:30

Fade away, dream,Spoil me not for real life.Go away, wishes,You cause the illusions I don't need.Don't come back, visions,You make the truth look dull.Your presence tortures, But your absence kills.Which is better, I wonder?Agony till my dying day,Or death this very moment?If I chose to suffer, I'd at least be living.If I chose to die, I'd be here still -But I would cease making sense.No more

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-85269624463833723792010-05-29T18:49:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:02:12.428+05:30

As a kid, I spent my timeCounting stars, writing rhymes,Making friends, there was no endTo my smile. As a kid, I walked by,Happy and laughing, no goodbyes, I didn't know pain, there was no stainOn my joy. Growing up is not my cup of tea,I'd rather stay little, why just me?I'd rather make rhymes, all the time,And not be fettered, just be free. As a kid, I had time,To have some fun, it was no

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-15815890039072321792010-05-29T18:24:00.001+05:302010-08-11T13:02:29.465+05:30

You say there's a riftBetween you and me;Your mind starts to driftWhen I'm talking to you. Our eyes don't meet;The sight of me is unpalatable.And you prefer to eatAlone; you don't want me. Life's just not the same.You say I've changed.It's always me to blame;Doesn't matter if you sleep around. The distance could be immense.You and I could be miles apart.But it's never the distance That eats up my

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-74767015740908343652010-05-29T18:20:00.002+05:302012-01-08T11:16:45.610+05:30

I had a lovely holiday for a week at Kodaikanal. I spent a grand time, most of it fiddling with my mom's phone - it's got a 1.3 megapixel camera which I just couldn't ignore. Here's the result of my fiddling - many photos of flowers in various silly angles. True, I'm no photographer, but couldn't help capturing these flowers on camera.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-43413618743225577082010-05-21T11:39:00.005+05:302012-01-08T11:34:54.068+05:30

Rain.Huge, heavy drops, instead of the usual teasing, slim ones that's the only kind of rain we see in our city, even during the rainy season. And it's summer. And they were falling on me.Not that I'm unhappy about the situation.'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'... I smile to myself.I like how the rain washes everything clean. The whole picture from the window of my bus looks

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-67739766627138933062010-05-09T23:38:00.013+05:302012-01-08T02:15:56.872+05:30

How my father and my mother met makes for a very interesting story.How they met again is still more interesting - because I was there when the reunion happened. Or should I say I was not there?I'm fifteen years old now. Technically, I'm fourteen, but I'll be fifteen after four months and two days.My mother - my biological mother, I mean - I've never known. I only know they discovered me next to a

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-24265121778347950292010-04-16T23:08:00.002+05:302010-08-11T13:04:24.548+05:30

OK, this is how I feel about whatever has happened. 1. I'm not trusted. On a very basic level. 2. I'm unreliable. Like a friend put it - "they are afraid you would drop out again". Again? Hmmm, interesting.3. I don't care much for popularity - I don't even know what it stands for, in this context. It's more about being trusted to do something well, and I wasn't trusted. It was more like an

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-18237586756661186372010-03-06T13:00:00.010+05:302010-08-11T13:05:00.622+05:30

With Tamil intro and outro, and summary, and everything in Tamil. It's திருப்பாவை (TIRUPPAVAI), by Andal. The Tiruppavai is a collection of thirty stanzas (paasuram) in Tamil written by Andal, in praise of the God Tirumal or Vishnu. It is part of Divya Prabandha, a work of the twelve Alvars, and is important in Tamil literature. (Summary from Wikipedia) ஆண்டாள் அருளிச்செய்தத் திருப்பாவை

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-58112312933946656482010-02-28T18:15:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:05:28.463+05:30

I've never been a fan of Gautham Menon's films - they're not my style. Minnale, Kaaka Kaaka, and Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu were OK, but not memorable. I watched Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya today. This is what I wrote somewhere else about the film - I've watched slow films, yes, and Trisha's character made sense to me because I know girls like that, but... The film lacked something. Real life is much

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-14864307214181585262010-02-26T23:54:00.013+05:302010-08-11T13:06:18.495+05:30

All these days, LibriVox has given us so much. So many lovely, professional-quality, beautiful, charming, touching, humorous, awesome recordings. So many stories. So many old books and classics we never could've gotten otherwise. LibriVox has done so much for me. Without LibriVox, I would never have known that I could coordinate things and handle the web without breaking any code. I never knew I

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-70463785194981456902010-02-20T13:26:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:06:35.045+05:30

a.k.a Some Romantic B.S. Let's run away together, To the end of this world. Where there's no one, but us, Just you and me, together, alone. Away from everyone, the phone; The horn-hoots of the car, the bus; Away to a secret place, untold To anyone. Let's run away, together.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-33663953117569790522010-02-20T13:19:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:06:54.474+05:30

*With a writers' block. Time flows by, Unrestricted, unchained, No dam, no wall. Birds still fly, With cheer unfeigned, Hoots, coos and all. The stars still shine; The moon fades away, A disappearing saucer. ... I'm still searching for a next line, For something smart to say, But nothing, zip, nada - what a loser!

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-7205519477585343302009-12-27T19:12:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:07:11.164+05:30

Don't like it much, but this will have to do - at least for this period, when my mind's all barren and I feel all lost in the land of writing... Feels like love this time, It's never seemed to real before; When you look into my eyes, I know you're mine, all mine -- I think so, But I'm not sure. I'm looking for signs, One simple word from your lips, Or an angelic, dimpling smile, So I'll know

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-51955536018872680822009-12-04T21:01:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:07:39.404+05:30

This one's for that special, tall, dark, lanky, dimpled, bespectacled guy who makes me smile and laugh and feel better about being myself. I could talk with you, For hours and hours; Your smile reminds me Of sunshine and flowers; Every love song ever Written, is ours, all ours. Life's a bed of roses -- How can it not be? I'm merrily humming a tune, And smiling stupidly; Yearning for your

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-79002800990928984362009-11-21T20:37:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:08:05.251+05:30

More crap. You better get used to it, reader. You haunt my life in the day, You don't even hear What I have to say. You're just around, Like a stranger to me; It's like I'm tied, to the ground, And I can't even flee. You touch me in my dreams, Every night, every moment, But you can't hear my screams, Or feel my pain, my torment. Why do we have to meet Every single morning? I'm there, next

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-6395079257333246112009-11-21T19:58:00.003+05:302010-08-11T13:08:26.641+05:30

Hey, I'm willing to write crap to come out of this writer's block I've got. Funny, people like me, Spending all their youth To save only money. Taking no time to soothe Their burning needs. Working away, all day, Partying, getting drunk Once they're done. Their world's small, shrunk, Lots of work, little fun. An obsession with perfection, Unattainable, unrealistic, Stains all their efforts.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-16939357958382547522009-11-16T18:58:00.003+05:302010-08-11T13:08:46.476+05:30

I need a man who -- Won't laugh at my pathetic jokes That I make on myself, Before someone else pokes Fun at me. I need a man who -- Won't believe my false smile, Looking at just a show of teeth -- He'd care to look into my eyes To find the tears beneath. I need a man who -- Won't laugh At me, Or even cough, When others tease; He'll be the one Who sees I'm not enjoying the joke; I need

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-71335629612367495902009-11-08T21:45:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:09:05.756+05:30

I tell myself, don't wake up, Don't open your eyes, don't think - If you think, you remember; And splat! There you go, you sink Into memories you don't want Incidents that shouldn't have happened When you put your foot in your mouth Moments that are, in your memory, emblazoned. You were so good at it, damn you It was a very familiar, well known routine, Open your big mouth, insert your foot Oh,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-78040914863800804572009-11-05T22:21:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:09:27.589+05:30

Some rhyming, not punctuated crap. Never mind. It's up to you to decide Who you want at your bedside For when you wake up Your life could be all fucked up But you don't want that at all, It is, after all, your call It could be three angry bears [Hey, but you stole their bed!] Or it could be the big bad Wolf, Dressed up like Grandma and waiting to be fed Could be the girl with long, long hair

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-42987997060042435662009-11-03T23:57:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:17:28.310+05:30

I still can't understand what I'm trying to say here. All I know is that I sound pretty depressed. I lie there, dying, Waiting for you. The tears are drying, I've stopped crying, too. Come, breathe a kiss On my cold, cold lips, On my numb fingertips. Come, breathe some life Into my little dead heart. The brittle, broken smile Curving my stiff mouth That hasn't smiled for a while Isn't real,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-38115453588174135932009-10-11T17:20:00.010+05:302010-08-11T13:18:05.344+05:30

This was intended as a song for Akila. Started out that way, too. But as I went on, I realized I'd like someone to sing this to me. Someone with a voice like Adam Levine's or Michael Buble's. Girl, tell me, Why the sadness in your eyes? Girl, tell me, What's the story of your life? The teardrops refusing to spill From the corner of your eyes Your smile, so tremulous, And your gusty, yearning

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-1636835119801717992009-08-17T18:36:00.010+05:302010-08-11T13:18:54.020+05:30

Been ages since I last blogged. Heck, it's been ages since I last wrote something, sensible or senseless. My employer has finally given me a joining date. I'll be starting work from August 31st. Me? Working? Sounds unreal. I'm still a little kid at home. Dad still calls me குழந்தை (meaning "baby" in Tamil), and Mom still combs my hair for me. A job. Whoa. It feels great. I'm so excited! I've

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-91842743610780137362009-06-27T12:22:00.023+05:302010-08-11T13:19:19.168+05:30

First of all... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVID!!! (24th June) So, the wild podcast thing... It all started with the idea for a Birthday wish for David. And when I was so bored and went through a whole of 22 pages of posts on LibriVox Addiction (THAT in itself is a sign of addiction, I guess), Esther suggested I do a podcast. And then, Elli and I were getting along so well, that it seemed wrong to not

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-72164554136615151862009-05-28T20:07:00.009+05:302010-08-11T13:19:44.660+05:30

Inspired by The Stories of Meena. This one's for you, Akila - this story in several lines, one below the other. I looked into his eyes. A single touch would be searing; My passion reignited, I stared at him, waiting. I could see his indecision. What would he do? I bit my lip hard, My wants and needs, Bodily and otherwise, All centered on him. My lower lip bled - His eyes touched the red;

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-60493902878433730202009-05-22T13:43:00.010+05:302010-08-11T13:20:37.478+05:30

It feels like a millennium since I last blogged. Nothing much has happened - the men I know are still jerks, I still hate my college(the nightmare's over now) and I'm still single. I've been busy lately. Orkut's out - it's got nothing for me there, nothing stimulating.LibriVox is IN. And how! I get to work with really nice people, and I love books and audio-books, and now I love LibriVox too.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-13266323899834991662009-04-24T11:24:00.009+05:302010-08-11T13:21:03.877+05:30

I went to my friend's sister's wedding reception yesterday. The bride and groom looked quite radiant and wonderful together. My whole class went for the reception together. I wasn't (and still am not) on talking terms with a few of them - some of them were my ex-best-friends. Most of my classmates are of the kind that cannot handle a professional argument professionally and keep it totally

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-8270467845161030902009-04-03T18:01:00.007+05:302010-08-11T13:21:37.881+05:30

Yes, the concept's borrowed. Heavily, in fact, from songs like That's How You Know (Disney's Enchanted - OST) and Tell Her You Love Her (our dear own Frank Sinatra). And this rhyme is more or less an excuse for me to put up my most favorite picture on the Internet. All day you're so busy While she's at home Waiting for a kissey Take the time to live your life Take the time to love your wife

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-53035066326257748262009-03-31T22:06:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:24:57.811+05:30

Dedicated by a seemingly un-possessive friend to a friend who has absolutely no idea. The story of any shyster's life. That is, any possessive shyster. I mean, any possessive shyster who loves someone. You know, any possessive shyster who loves someone so much. Like, any possessive shyster who loves someone so much it hurts. OK, so you get the idea. She thought her friend Was one among a

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-5509511681973857702009-03-26T21:37:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:32:42.070+05:30

Writing something like this. Taking a dig at the shallowest of the shallow creatures in this world. I really had to write it. Men suck, seriously. And I'm disabling comments here because I don't care a damn for the self-righteous men who can argue all they want that they are so decent and that they respect all women alike, because all of us know the truth. Coming to the literary value of this

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-80403018301556158242009-03-25T22:46:00.007+05:302010-08-11T13:33:07.357+05:30

I really wish he'd know it's for him if he sees this poem. A regal posture - His back upright, He walked so tall, A fascinating sight. A roman nose, Brown eyes, thick-lashed, Sweet, nerdy glasses - I stared at him, unabashed. His lips so pink, And perfect, and full, I'd like to steal a kiss, Or two - oh, so beautiful. One look from him, And I'd melt, or die. One touch from him, I can't

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-83629672150714212842009-03-25T22:22:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:33:46.627+05:30

Oh, yes, today's definitely one of my "I'm-in-a-romantic-mood-tra-la-la" days. The notes slip into my ear, Wistful, romantic and fascinating. Into my heart, you drive a spear, With that scorching look; Can't you see I'm hyperventilating? You sweep me away for a dance, Just one, you say, but I know - If it's just one waltz, by chance, Will we be slipping away? No, we will come back for more.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-67987396648418312482009-03-25T21:59:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:34:10.365+05:30

Plagued with a sense of failure, Faced with the world's censure, I'd like to go to the end of the world, A mystic place, with tales untold. I was a success when you were with me, Now that I've lost, here you won't be! I don't need shadows, I'd like real things, Real feelings, not just imaginary beings. I'd like to be held, to be protected and loved, To be led away from the maddening crowd. I'd

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-74242640026343577822009-03-24T20:57:00.007+05:302010-08-11T13:36:02.199+05:30

This poem, I dedicate to Renold Devaraj. He's truly the best thing that's ever happened to me. He's the coolest, the cutest, the most wonderful guy in the world. I know he cares a lot for me and loves me, and I love him too. This is just a little effort and I'm hoping I impress him. ;) Most best things are short and sweet; You're the best thing that's happened to me. I'm longing for the time

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-79015106305196604062009-03-02T21:56:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:36:26.636+05:30

I don't care much for marriages, but I know one thing that's definitely made in heaven. Chocolate! Chocolate is definitely made in heaven. Chocolate is the food of the gods. Dark bitter chocolate. White milk chocolate. Chocolate with nuts, dried fruits... Chocolate is an anti-depressant, an aphrodisiac... I worship chocolate. I'm sitting here with a bar of Kit-Kat, and I'm afraid to open it

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-48261172496311003372009-03-02T20:14:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:36:51.094+05:30

Whee, my blog's now 200 posts old! My 200th post goes to Meena and to all my other friends who have always encouraged me to write more; to all those people who read even the worst of my writings and say, "Hey, that's nice!"; to all those people who think that I'd never be an engineer, and that I should pursue writing. I dedicate this poem especially to Ram. "The rabbit moves! So does The snowy

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-64137376384319086712008-12-29T14:12:00.009+05:302010-08-11T13:37:13.471+05:30

My 199th post. Nothing special, actually. The first two lines popped out of nowhere when I was taking a shower, hence this result. As darkness descends, As the sun slowly sets, As another night unfolds, The moon will be, But a silent spectator - An endless conversation, Falls into bottomless silence; Laughter stops, smiles falter, And words die, A peaceful death - Preserved in history,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-18321735814289099302008-12-03T19:36:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:37:35.447+05:30

Stolen from Meena's prompting thingy. The words are emboldened. My heart tips, this side and that, Very much like the physical balance - The scale tips, saying you're just too good, And then you make me think, "Fat chance!" My heart swings, this way and that, Very much like a simple pendulum - One minute, I think you're oh, so charming, Then you show the manners of pond scum! My heart

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-41753044332592873562008-12-03T16:23:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:38:02.863+05:30

Meena wanted me to write a poem on these words, really a long time ago. Now that her work is about to get published, I wanted to congratulate her, and this is all I've got to give her, at the moment. I'm not sure how well the poem goes with the title, but I really wanted to give this poem the title Meena really liked, because, it's all about the girl we all know and love. I could almost see

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-79222464092126286872008-12-02T18:32:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:39:03.119+05:30

Definitely horny tonight. Oh dear, but you frighten me so, I've really got you under my skin, Oh, you open up my window, But can I, would I ever let you in? You're all I've always wanted, You're my deepest, darkest desire. You touch me, hold me, undaunted, Oh, you do set me gloriously on fire. If I just tightly close my eyes, Would this feeling of abandon go? We're totally at it, like fire and

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-88769084054543479312008-11-26T15:06:00.012+05:302010-08-11T13:39:53.815+05:30

For ABC Wednesday I share a lot of special memories related to the sundial. I can't say I've seen a lot of sundials, but I do have a special interest in them, God knows why. One of my most favorite sundials was the one that I saw in a temple I've already written about [Weathered Charm, December 19, 2007]. It had a very simple structure, and it also had a little stick that was used to cast a

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-64482730178753256932008-11-22T15:47:00.011+05:302010-08-11T13:56:00.264+05:30

Take it back from me, That little brooch. What do you expect, Eternal loyalty? I'm not your pooch! Take it back from me, Your love letter. It had words so untrue, Meaningless, flowery! Tearing it would be better! Take it back from me, The emerald necklace. What's the bloody point in, I really cannot see, Getting deeper into this maze. Take it back from me, The engagement ring!

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-76982407635064457992008-11-21T20:16:00.013+05:302010-08-11T13:40:51.181+05:30

Prompted at ABC Wednesday Retrograding to my initial blogging days... I was so unsure. I didn't even think I'd start a new blog. And even when I did, I wasn't so sure I'd have stuff to write in it, or that I'd update my blog. Would I have the time? Or worse, what if I had the time, but not the inclination? I like writing, of course, I do. But I don't write as often as I'd like to. Most of the

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-31021702110708947432008-11-21T19:53:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:41:23.927+05:30

He called me to him,"Come here, querida," And I just had to go, Though he was very far. "Dance with me, querida," He says, and I can't hold back. I tremble in his touch, quiver, My whole body goes slack. The warm breeze caresses, As he whispers close to my ear, Softly, "I love you so, querida." My doubts perish, so does my fear. There are no rain clouds now, In my horizon - the sky's all clear!

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-88268852823471947842008-11-21T19:11:00.011+05:302010-08-11T13:42:01.555+05:30

What does a drunken, impetuous, impulsive woman, led on by the power of alcohol, feel like, on a night when she's had too much more to drink than what's safe for her and compounding all the problems, also gets to meet this handsome stranger? I certainly don't have any idea. I'm just hoping this is close to whatever she'd feel. More, more - just pour, Into that long-stemmed glass! More, give me

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-59555202132490544392008-11-21T18:25:00.011+05:302010-08-11T13:42:44.753+05:30

A lovely song by Zooey Deschanel. Let's see what I could do with these same words. A palpable dream - Little black curls, Your face just beams; The face that's my lil' girl's. I thought I saw your face today, But I'm not so sure anymore. It might be just another dream, It might be just another closed door. There was a time When you were mine There was a time A time so perfect, sublime. I

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-5629240965119765472008-11-20T16:30:00.016+05:302010-08-11T13:43:17.844+05:30

The first in the newest series that Meena and I are starting. I'm still not sure it's a really good work, but I suppose it's good enough to be called a comeback. The breeze caresses, Letting free, my tresses. I can hear all the birds sing, As the eagles circle and do their thing. The trees dance, sway, Not minding the heat of May. The white clouds move relentlessly, Shadows over every Leslie

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-72370479486884595172008-11-20T16:22:00.008+05:302010-08-11T13:43:52.383+05:30

I just realized something. I feel a lot better when I wear my oldest clothes. Those same clothes which had seen me through my bad times and good times. Those same old cotton clothes, that look quite a bit worn-out, but still hug my body and offer me more comfort than all the newest chiffon and silk frills and frivolous stuff I've got. I suppose this theory kind of applies to wine and friends too.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-57072951779952003812008-11-19T20:13:00.004+05:302010-08-11T13:44:15.747+05:30

You shall answer the following questions in the comments section. I mean, whoever is visiting my blog and wants to reply. That's what this tag is about. 1. Who are you? 2. Are we friends? 3. If curiosity Killed The Cat, what happened to the mice??? 4. What do you think about my Blog? 5. Something I have and YOU want? 6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. 7. Describe me in one

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-44398241834133275232008-11-17T20:25:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:44:59.818+05:30

Title stolen from a Billie Holliday/Etta James song. And yes, tell me if you like the story! I KNEW he was coming from her place. "Where have you been?" I tried to sound casual. He looked up from the posts he was busily sorting. It was a blank look, totally devoid of irritation, anger, guilt, of just about anything. He didn't answer. He got back to sorting his posts. "Oh," I said, with a

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-89951977771678379402008-11-17T18:28:00.010+05:302010-08-11T13:45:24.025+05:30

... at Haiku-ing (I just checked out Meena's comment - this one is NOT a haiku. It's just a little bunch of lines, after all). I really had to try. The words in bold were actually prompted by Meena, in Meena's blog... In a flash of inspiration, I really felt I had to use the very same words to write an almost similar Haiku. So, this is dedicated to the Queen of Poetry, Meena! She quivers,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-6233478166843634542008-10-23T19:14:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:45:45.826+05:30

I'm so vain. I can't believe it. I'm so vain, I've actually made a compilation of my short stories - more like a portfolio kind of thing - to show off to everyone who asks me, "Do you write?"It's got all my stories. All the stories I've written so far. And it's complete with a cover design, contents and stuff. I can't believe this, I'm so vain. But then, who isn't?

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-70532337718235928602008-10-21T20:57:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:46:27.069+05:30

This is a random tag that I stole from Meena's blog. - Smoked a cigarette I'm planning to do it sometime, though. I want to see what's so cool about it that a lot of people are so addicted to it. It doesn't look like fun, but it's my secret conviction that I try everything once before I die, so there! - Done some form of dope I'm not sure I want to do this. But I might, thanks to that

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-70833267814929758182008-10-19T17:00:00.009+05:302010-08-11T13:46:53.950+05:30

"OF ALL the songs you could hear on the way to Goa, you had to choose this," Anya complained. Natasha whooped aloud. "Anyone with taste would like Cliff Richard!" His "Summer Holiday" was one of her favorite songs. She was playing it at full volume, thus getting on Anya's nerves. They were on a two-week holiday, and Goa seemed like the perfectest spot for this vacation. Anya snorted. "Of course,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-45352772426348228892008-10-19T15:32:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:49:05.062+05:30

VIOLET Petunias, violets, The month that's December; Mountains in deep slumber, Darkness, the night's silence. INDIGO So like blue, Star-studded skies, The shade of your eyes, The essence of you. BLUE The sky, the sea, The song, the music, The face that is sick, The mood of me. GREEN Fertility and richness, Happiness and humanity, Growth and prosperity, Eyes that are jealous. YELLOW

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-27671688373588498662008-10-19T14:27:00.005+05:302010-08-11T13:56:54.164+05:30

Title stolen from a beautiful King Harvest song. This poem is based on my experience in Goa, that silent, beautiful evening. This beautiful evening, at twilight, Near the restless, roaring sea, There is no one else around, No one, but just you and me. The bubbles from the wineglasses, Ice cubes tinkling, a little melody. We laugh and play, like two little kids, Talking in the dark, just you and

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-28180394813090550462008-10-05T22:07:00.006+05:302010-08-11T13:57:21.991+05:30

By Meena, of course. RULE #1 People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves. RULE #2 Tag 6 people to do this quiz and those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by continue this game by sending

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-3474951789864042132008-09-22T17:35:00.007+05:302010-08-11T13:57:55.239+05:30

It's fun. Seriously. All of a sudden, I'm terribly, irrevocably bored. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to go online, watch TV, eat, sleep, exercise, read books, text message my friends, study for tests (as if I ever want to)... No, you sucker-for-cliches, I'm not in love. That's all OK, because I've always got my iPod to give me company. At least, before recently, if not always. But

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-11285177263791225742008-09-17T21:39:00.024+05:302010-08-11T13:58:29.232+05:30

Being without rich food depresses me. I've always thought that I've got self-control and will power and all those things, and this diet thingy'd do me a world of good. Whenever I ask for food, though, I always get a fruit. OK, maybe a vegetable. Or some rotis. The side-dishes are good, thank god. Dieting isn't fun. I'm beginning to hate papayas and guavas. And apples too. And carrots, and

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-30822354881025673922008-09-15T16:46:00.027+05:302010-08-11T13:58:54.662+05:30

NICK CAPOTE was gazing into the sea. He was sitting on the sands of the beach, at a measured distance from the sea, in such a way that the waves came close enough to lick his feet, yet didn't dare to touch him. That was Nick Capote. Nick was only thirty-four, but life had hardened him more than his age required. His face, a face that had once brightened with laughter, now had only a few laughter

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-58897854674072767882008-09-14T22:19:00.004+05:302010-08-11T14:00:38.526+05:30

Never mind. This piece doesn't have a beginning, an ending or even a meaning. It's just the result of some aimless scribbling, of my trying to win over my writer's block. You watered the tree Wanting the lush fruits. When the tree grew old, And bore no more fruits, You turned away, and left. The rain didn't care, didn't see, Whether the tree carried any goods, Or what the tree, for her, holds.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-77059109921284699212008-09-14T21:53:00.006+05:302010-08-11T14:00:59.673+05:30

Inspired by "The Magic of Love", a song from The Swan Princess. Numbness seeping through to the bones, Nothing touches me; I don't feel. Whatever is left of me, in me, though, The merciless coldness does steal. I lie down here, thinking of times with you, Those moments, those minutes, those hours. We were innocent, untouched as morning's dew, Everything special we had, all ours, just ours.

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-62634479555415875102008-09-14T21:37:00.006+05:302010-08-11T14:01:28.708+05:30

Dedicated to all those ex-crushes that I've invited back into my life, on a crazy impulse. I know this poem sucks. I'm kind of rusty at this, so bear with me. You weren't here when I needed you so, You weren't around to wipe my tears. And now you're back, why, I don't know, Back in town, to bring back all my fears. Your arms weren't around me, warm, When I shivered with the gloomy cold. You

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-49077482470351136222008-09-14T20:35:00.008+05:302010-08-11T14:02:30.335+05:30

An open tag from Meena's blog. I liked it, so here goes. 1. What have you realized recently? That I'm not all the good a person that I used to believe I was. I've got some VERY bitchy characteristics. 2. Have you given your first kiss away? Given it "away"? Well, not yet. First, I'll have to find someone who would want to take it "away". 3. If you were stranded on a deserted island, who

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-5479281639827781582008-09-02T19:30:00.006+05:302010-08-11T14:03:03.177+05:30

My life's been quite eventful. Let me fill you in on all the stuff. I just can't write these days. I don't know why. Have you ever liked someone a lot, even told them so, and been really close to them, but due to small misunderstandings, you end up bitching about them to someone who isn't even directly related? And that person gets to know accidentally through this third person and... That's

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-53775675830195295022008-09-02T14:44:00.007+05:302010-08-11T14:04:01.187+05:30

The Rules:1. Put Your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle 2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer. 3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG DOWN NO MATTER WHAT! After you've answered all of the questions, tag other people and then let them know they've been tagged to do the meme themselves. If someone says, "Is this OK?", you say? Sarang eh byuk hwa – My Little Bride [Korean] Soundtrack (

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-91133806132043484842008-08-03T17:08:00.027+05:302010-08-11T14:04:31.397+05:30

This is an interesting tag, I must say. Answering with pictures. What is your first name? It could've been this - or this - I'm not sure which of these my parents were thinking about when they gave me my name. What is your favorite food right now? Not just right now, but for ever. What high school did you go to? This is the CSI emblem. Couldn't get the logo of my school. What is

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-50552610318940823672008-08-03T16:14:00.013+05:302010-08-11T14:05:17.382+05:30

Octal Meme. Thanks to Meena, again. EIGHT THINGS I'M PASSIONATE ABOUT. I'm not a very passionate person. But I'll try. 1. Books. 2. Piano music (I'm a sucker for that!). 3. Greek Mythology. 4. Video Games. 5. Thinking and Analyzing. 6. Food. 7. Humor. 8. Cartoon videos. That's all there. Phew, that was tough! EIGHT-PLUS-ONE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE. This is easy! And there are nine

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-87224847151990337202008-08-03T16:03:00.005+05:302010-08-11T14:05:45.036+05:30

The Rules are as follows.. 1. Link the person who tagged you. 2. Mention the rules on your blog. 3. Tell 6 unspectacular quirks of yours. 4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them. 5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs, letting them know that they have been tagged. SIX QUIRKY THINGS ABOUT ME. "Every man had his own quirks and twists." - Harriet Beecher Stowe Hmmm, that's

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-39727608173163615802008-08-03T15:13:00.009+05:302010-08-11T19:10:53.178+05:30

The Rules are as follows: 1) Look at the list and bold those you have read. 2) Italicize those you intend to read. 3) Underline the books you really love (and strikethrough the ones you hate!). 4) Reprint this list in your own blog. 1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 2 The Lord Of Rings - JRR Tolkien 3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte 4 Harry Potter Series - JK Rowling --> DONE WITH THE FIRST TWO

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-25465870352455355382008-08-03T14:40:00.006+05:302010-08-11T14:04:54.796+05:30

By Meena, of course. Thanks! OK, so here goes! 1. Last movie you saw in a theater? Sivaji. It wasn't that bad. 2. What book are you reading? I'm between books, right now. I just finished "Happy Holidays" by Janet Dailey. Might take up something by Debbie Macomber. 3. Favorite board game? Snakes and Ladders, Monopoly. 4. Favorite magazines? Business Today More. I also read Ananda

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-86637745497002587052008-07-20T21:41:00.004+05:302010-08-11T19:26:42.602+05:30

Dedicated to the pathetic human mockingbirds whose jokes aren't really funny. I hear you, in another voice, sing. There you're standing, plain, small. I pity you! Mocking is the only thing You could do best, after all! Poor thing, you can't be real or original. You can't say things that aren't taught. Your talents, apart from mimicking, are nil, Zip, nada, zero, naught! You're so disgusting,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-24675393130857410792008-07-16T17:35:00.014+05:302010-08-11T19:27:36.646+05:30

Dedicated to the guy who could only be either my "The One" or my brother. "He's probably gay!" I hissed to my friend. She cast a thoroughly disgusted look at me. She probably thought I was a bitch (Or should I say she probably knew?). I almost caught her lips murmuring that word. OK, so she wasn't the only one to love this supposedly-gay guy to death. Oh, no. Not even in the "er, ahem, you know

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-22941325849769373362008-07-10T15:19:00.013+05:302010-08-11T19:28:32.377+05:30

Dedicated to the sexiest professor I've ever seen and known, because he has inspired me to write this one. I don’t know why I remembered him that day. I was sitting on a high chair next to the window, and the rain was pitter-pattering on the window panes. And I remembered him. After almost twenty years. My mind flew back to my college days..A “something” for an old, married man. Yep, that’s

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-25600339370796525542008-07-05T22:00:00.005+05:302011-06-23T00:45:51.369+05:30

I don't think she would've remembered me even if I'd taken it upon myself to remind her that she had seen me before. Been my friend. Held my hand. Even kissed me once, very fleetingly. I watched her from beneath my lashes, as I took a delicate sip from the flute. She didn't know I was watching her. She didn't know I'd been watching her all through the party. She hadn't known I was watching her

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-43946081077266131362008-07-03T19:57:00.007+05:302010-08-11T19:29:16.578+05:30

I've been tagged! Thanks, Meena. Woohoo, I'm glad. I've always wanted to be tagged. I like answering questions.OK, so here goes. I am: an undefinable entity. A lonely soul. I think: not before speaking my mind and not when I'm really mad at someone. I know: that my German sucks. I want: people to understand me. It rarely happens. I have: a few good friends, a few unshared secrets. I

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-3452558658912187242008-07-02T21:44:00.004+05:302010-08-11T19:29:38.470+05:30

I'm using Shakespeare's excuse for a title, and Meena's story. I dedicate this work to Meena, the true author of this beautifully romantic, touching little story. Loved listening to her say it. Hope my version, though not as good, animated or touching as hers, does at least a wee bit of justice to the original version which was really, amazingly, truly wonderful. Rita stepped on the accelerator

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-87707368350704560512008-07-02T18:49:00.004+05:302010-08-11T19:30:18.963+05:30

Can you believe it? I've gotten myself a job! Yup, a job, idiot, what did you expect, I'd say I'd gotten myself in trouble? Accenture's really gotten itself a deal, I should say. The recruitment process was fun, and the HR guys looked downright sexy, and hell, I'm willing to sign a bond for a million years with those guys! I can't wait to start work. I've got one more year to go, and I really

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-30163747481241800102008-07-02T18:25:00.004+05:302010-08-11T19:30:40.714+05:30

It's actually a lovely song from Pocahontas. You should listen to it sometime. As the pristine silvery water shone I heard the steady, calming drone, Adding to the still, untouched beauty of This unexplored land, this lovely breeze, All this greenery, the hum of the bees. I looked up to the blue heavens. The birds flew in groups of tens, So sure of the way without a compass. Though peaceful,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-64301639637909595392008-06-09T19:01:00.006+05:302010-08-11T19:31:22.016+05:30

The lake danced, rippled, Before my eyes. A pale reflection, crippled, In a way, struck me With a force so brutal. A weak, scentless rose, With every withering petal, Scorched with her conscience. What have you done, Her conscience screamed. I wasn't as weak, alone, I wasn't so sorry, so tired, Or for so much misery deemed. I couldn't meet her eyes, The Lady Conscience, The once untouched,

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-61264129009828259202008-06-08T17:43:00.010+05:302010-08-11T19:31:45.583+05:30

I dedicate this poem to my dearest birthday bum, the eternal busybody, the cutest of the cute. Happy Birthday in advance! "I miss you; I miss your smile, Your laughter, Your dimple." "What I feel for you Isn't that simple." "Do you think You're the only one To wonder, to doubt, To fear this feeling?" "Near you, I can't think; My head is reeling." "You're my special someone; I'd hold you in

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-6483496732383124412008-05-28T18:44:00.003+05:302010-08-11T19:32:26.147+05:30

I hate writing poetry these days. I just can't write like I used to. I'm disabling comments for this poem. It's just something like a personal rough copy. OK, let's try being a teenager once again, shall we? Wow, I'm gonna get kissed! But it's bright, the heat unkind - Uh-oh, it's not what I want! Dreams that continually haunt - A kiss in the rain I had in mind - Are they gonna get totally

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38686487.post-84276233020293719292008-05-28T18:18:00.003+05:302010-08-11T19:32:46.259+05:30

I don't like this one much. Will write another one later! I watch the little child Place her tiniest finger Trustingly, in the mother's hand And walk by, along with her. I notice the woman lean, Sway, imperceptibly, toward The man walking beside her, As they walk slowly, forward. I see the old woman put, On her son's shoulder, a hand like A nervy, wrinkled, brown wire, Racing past me on their

Neeru Iyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00525137069315171486noreply@blogger.com