Cuckoo Talk

September 18, 2011 by aparajita9  
Published in Women

A bit of an introspection.

A hunk on a magazine cover or a bloke down the street, all are complete with their diet control and gym fashion techniques. And I?

 I, coolly munching on those favorite oil balls and eyeing on the next menu.

Terrifc or funny as it may sound I left it to the ongoing work schedule to careful responsibility that might eventually take a turn on the current fashion of thinning down.

 And so it did.

 With 7:30- 7:30 deadline now, my legs have become far more active and sleep has become a necessary benefit, valued –as it is free of cost.

The other thing that has happened is a dedication to writing poetry ; in a more synchronous way, having  the privilege to vent out all in rhythms that objectively structure the fluctuating moods and dissipated thoughts.

There is laughter embroidering the smooth course of the schedule which apparently gets knotted with times’ unending measures. There is gratitude bereft of all opinions and frankness that becomes an all-time-memorable-syndrome caging every single minute as life’s most beauteous charms.

 I figured out that during the last few days there has been political innuendoes to frame me and there has also been laughter over matters silly as they may sound.


Whatever goes wrong is stitched and fine-tuned to suit time and purpose and whatever is assumed to dismantle is coherently managed with appraisals and benevolence.

There is a woman behind all that goes right and all that goes wrong. Man does not have that stuff. Sorry folks! But here it was, this cooing lady wonderfully misleading the public with lies to shatter my sense of responsibility to immeasurable dungeons and unfathomable heights. I ,bluntly bellowing the truth to safeguard my interests..:)


This is society and this is the advantage of holding a job tight-fisted to allow time to flow.

I went to a mall, carried myself a treasure of Sofit and Mueslis, cooled my anger with a Butter Scotch and let the autowallah take occasional glances through his mirror. My face- bitter sweet ;with a refusal of a DVD change and an expectation of a marriage party in the evening.


The movie ‘Eat Pray and Love’ is a wonderful characterisation of the self in the make-up of Julia Roberts. The charming soul figures out the search within and assuades all that stands in the way of love at the end. The search ends but the characteristic portrayal of finding or drawing the right kind of person or situation remains. The sustenance of the plot is carried well through different minds, religions lifestyle and the appreciation for the same finds roots in the way of life most of the women of this century lives.

Giving in to watching standard movies or reading books of ideal thoughts or meeting people with sophisticated charms in a way allays all that comes as a rude shock in the waywardness of the Government, barbarian techniques by the very same people who belong to specific sects and people with thoughts of artificial destruction.

Life still goes on.

Drum beats fill the air announcing the arrival of  the Goddess or the church bell rings sending prayers to save man from Natural onslaughts.

Yet Somalia faces starvation and women ransacked off their freedom for masquerading with ‘men’tal conflicts.

The punchline in the lives of filmstars sportsmen, industrialists politicians health-manuals continue to embark on the fact that:

In a sophisticated society death will come as it must but Life should be governed by the principles of man. Food-hunk or foodie , employed or hacker, women or wife, live time till it blows it last whistle.

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