quick thought from this side of midnight

here's a question for all you readers and believers out there. what is love? what does it mean? is it more than the yearning in my heart that i feel when she's not around. is it a measure of the divine? or is it simply various neurons firing and hormones raging? "attachment hormones" as my baby calls them.

really, it doesnt matter sweet fuck all.

i realised a few months ago that sometimes love is just an illusion - it's beautiful words masked by great sex and the pretense of intimacy.

"i love you"

it's just words, really. three fucking words, that mean so little unless they can be made real, made tangible.

that, folks, is why i know that i love tash. and why i know, know, that she loves me. it's not just the words, it's the mountain of action that moves those words... it's more than the fact that thinking of her never fails to make me smile. even though that may be part of it. love is the sum of all these tiny wholes. a completed canvas, where even the spaces and distances make up part of the picture.

sigh...

and then, folks, when you get that, that's when you can look behind the curtain and see that while the wizard is just another person, that person is unique and special and fills you and completes you and complements you in ways that you have never before experienced.

ok. enough pseudo-intellectual babble. it's late and i need to crash so i can be up early and fresh for work.

meanwhile, to all those lovers out there. all those people who really know how to love, totally selflessly and with action and faith, i wish you the sweetest dreams - may you all be as fortunate as i am to spend your nights in the arms of someone who loves you as much as you love them - with total and utter reciprocity.

'o'

ps: my little lover just informed me that these words might be construed as a "reaction" to an earlier conversation this evening with S. (of new york and far east asia fame). thought i should clarify that such is not the case. later gators...

for whom the blog rolls

so dear readers, it looks like the comments have started rolling in slowly....

i was told by one friend that while this small dark spot in the great wide wilderness of cyberspace had become a staple read, she thought it needed "more sex please". running counter to this suggestion was my cousin M's comment that i came across as "self-obsessed" and was i really "that boring."

so what to do? i find myself in a conundrum...

do i add on the sex and violence in my own personal verbal homage to jerry bruckheimer? or pull back in a virtual coitus interuptus, letting my more sensually inclined readers get their vicarious kicks elsewhere?

honestly, i am inclined towards neither. although perhaps my darling cuz was onto something when she called the blog (or was it me?) "self-indulgent." after all, isnt that exactly what this is? my outlet for self-expression? my world, where everything of any import revolves around me? is this not merely an online version of my little black book?

truth be told, i'm actually not quite sure. there are times when i think of this as a way to let loose my verbal diarrhea. if you dont like it, dont read it...

but then i'll read something like john perry barlow's blog, or baghdad burning, and i wonder about my place in the world and whether it is fair or right (moral, even) to allow oneself the luxury, nay, the novelty, of self-centeredness in a world that is increasingly stricken with strife. is it not my responsibility, not only as a journalist, but as a human being, to write about the sufferings of the world, to tell the stories of those who have no voice? isnt that why and how i justified becoming a journalist in the first place?

i strain to find the answers, but all i keep hearing is cartman singing "uncle fucker" from south park: bigger, longer and uncut...

maybe its the herring... i dont know. right now, all i can hear is birds chirping loudly... am wondering whether i have finally lost my mind. there cant actually be a bird (or birds???) chirping in the air-conditioning ducts??? earlier, i thought i smelt burning rubber/plastic, like in an electrical fire. turns out, it was just coffee (thanks to Katie F.'s finely tuned nasal abilities).

the thing is, if i wanted, i really could "talk about sex, baby". i mean i am going out with a super sexy, intelligent, brilliant and fantastically beautiful woman who simply blows my mind and (get this!) loves me as much as i love her!!!

it's funny, speaking of tashi. she really is everything i have ever wanted or hoped for or desired in a woman. at once a vixen and a dove. sometimes an angel, other times a complete and utter delicious devil... i shall not, however, (despite the requests of my erstwhile college companions and fellow lahoris) "kiss and tell"...

anyway, it's time for me to now head home... am meeting up with LO'B (fellow columbia j-school alum otherwise known as the shadow) to hit the gym...

back to the burn, baby, back to the burn...

more later maybe - if not, i shall see y'all anon.

'o'

bed blogs and bloom flicks

good afternoon faithful reader(s).

as the more observant amongst you may have noticed, i have finally managed to break the curse of one. as i write these words, the hands on my clock stand at just a little beyond half past two in the afternoon. i am lying in bed, wrapped in my red comforter, pondering the flow of color to the red wall opposite.

shit, i really am an effing ponce.

anyway, for those few who might actually have been following this blog with some small degree of interest, the past weekend has been wonderful - and far too busy and packed for me to actually drop something to write. friday night was my old friend YT's (hitherto he shall be known as gollum)girlfriend, oops, no, i meant "partner", CJP's (or just CJ for the sake of brevity) birthday. incidentally, it was also eid. so we all went to lahore karahi where we gorged ourselves on seekh kababs and champein (lamb chops for the non-Urdu speakers). then went to hear a rather interesting band play at a bar called the rickshaw stop. they sing lyrics to one song over the music of another - one crowd pleaser was "smells like billie jean" - i'm sure i dont need to explain that to anyone.

saturday, tash and i took a streetcar downtown to the SF MOMA, where we caught the lichstenstein exhibit. while that was experience unmatcheable (is that even a word???), i was left with incredibly sore feet. and no, i am not a spoilt brat (or at least this particular experience does not illustrate my spoiltness in any way). in truth, i was somewhat under the influence of my favorite - spiderman fans might recognize the name Ms. "Blanketty Blank" Watson. plus, my shoes (effing fashion victim that i am) were not condusive to walking long distances.

suffice it to say, by the time we got back home, i was simply bushed. still cooked a delish aloo keema (again, for the english speakers, this is ground beef with potatoes paki-style) and tash and i kicked back and watched "the forgotten" with julianne moore. frickin' (my new word of choice) strange film... thought it was going to be a psychological thriller, turned out to be about effing UFOs. go figure. anyway, then we saw "troy" (a most disappointing film, what with achilles being hetro and all), and then, never one to give up a movie marathon op, i closed the evening with that cinematic masterpiece, "freaky friday".

oh, by the way, a small digression, if i may - i have noticed a few (ummmm, two) comments, and was wondering if i could be so bold as to request any leavers of comments to perhaps be so kind as to leave their names? the whole Anonymous posting thing kind of leaves me feeling like i'm being stalked.

and yes, i know, i am allowing myself to indulge my already prodigious ego here.

so here i am. lying in bed. in a somewhat sound state of bliss.

methinks it might be the "L" word - although i hesitate to commit it to black on white lest i jinx the damn thing.

the object of my amor is currently sitting on the steps outside the apartment smoking her afternoon ciggie. it never fails to amaze me how incredibly thoughtful this girl is. boggles my mind sometimes really.

damn...

laptop battery has gone into reserve power. and that means either getting up or finishing this off for now. and since i am a lazy fuck i will finish....

ok, now i have to go. tash just walked in to inform me that she has broken my favorite (and actually only) ashtray. was a present from CJ (of earlier mention), so am just a little bummed... oh well. it's just an object. and she does enough for me to gloss over the loss.

sigh. need to get out of bed. sort out laundry. shower. shave. make the bed. clean my room.

sometimes, i wonder why i abandoned my life of luxury back home... oh yeah, i remember, it was the women.

once again, the theme of my life - when will it end??? dear lord, when will i stop chasing these damnable skirts!

never, i hear the good lord whisper good-naturedly in mine ear. for mine is the dingdong and the story and i am now becoming dangerously delusion and must bid you, my faithful reader(s), adieu...

so, in the words of the von trappe children, "so long, farewell, auf weidersen, goodbye..."

'o'

ps: also, it just occured to me that the title of this blog might strike some as a tad incongrous - so it was a play on "bedknobs and broomsticks" the old (disney?) flick with angela lansbury (she who wrote many a murder) - the bloom reference was to orlando bloom in "troy". always good to explain oneself, i say. never leave a lover in the dark - even virtual ones who might adore one only for one's rare moments of literary ephiphany...

effing ponce, told y'all so...