Whos walking who?
Well the other day I was taking my dog Jerry for a walk, and like always, Jerry was in a tearing hurry and wanted to run as fast as possible, dragging me along helplessly (well kinda) behind him. And while we were running, we almost knocked into a neighbor of mine, who after stroking Jerry asked me this seemingly simple, but yet somehow thought provoking question, “Are you walking him, or is he walking you??”
See cause now that I think about it, I wonder, am I the one in control most of the time or is it the dog? Because most people I know who have dogs, like me spoil them silly. We feed them whatever we eat, we pamper them, wake up and drop everything as soon as they have to go out, and when we’re out with them, if they stop we have to stop, if they move, they drag us along.
So whos the master and whos the pet. I suppose at the end of the day, we’re the ones who’re holding the leash. But then I think the leash they’ve put around our hearts (using their cute puppy dog eyes and tail wagging and cute acts) is way tighter and stronger than the ones we have around their necks 
In any case, here is little Jerry saying hi
Yeah he’s definitely the one in charge
Pictures
I just had to put up this picture I took today… The sky looked so unbelievably gorgeous!!
And I found this Spoof poster on the net and thought it was hilarious
Change
I know change is a kinda cliched subject to write on, but I think at some point in your life, you suddenly realize just how much has changed around you. So when did it finally strike me… As far as I can tell it was in the train on my way home a couple of days ago.
I remember around the same time last year, it was raining and I was leaning out of the train, just like I was doing two days ago. So in any case at that point last year there stood a dilapidated set of buildings that consisted the ‘Wallace Shaw Flour Mills’ somewhere in between Byculla and Sandhurst road stations. Staring at that building in the middle of the pouring rain was the inspiration to one of my stories called Wallace. Now, to my utter dismay, the mills have been torn down and are soon to be replaced by some ‘International’ School. It kinda makes me sad.
Alright so getting back to change, well there seems to be a lot of it around me right now. And the change is so sudden sometimes, sometimes its so small you don’t even really notice it. My brother going abroad to study is a major change. It’s not until you’re alone in the room you shared watching Supernatural late at night and getting kinda spooked that you realize how big a difference not having just one person around makes.
And then there’s friends. I’m in my first year of senior college. And my old friends are with me, in the same place but I still only meet them once a week, if I’m lucky that is. And well new friends are just that, new
And of course there’s love. I met this old classmate of mine yesterday. Till the last time I met her (which was maybe 5 months ago) she and her boyfriend had been inseparable. Now, they’re barely even friends. And it’s funny how easy love can change. Another couple I know broke up, made up, broke up and made up again in the span of 2 hours Sure it sounds funny now, but getting caught up in that situation when it actually happened was such a pain. People should note here: Don’t get caught up with couples where both the guy and girl are your friends… It’s a pain
But change isn’t necessarily all that bad. I mean my rooms getting painted, which looks pretty good, and the furniture is being shifted around. Plus I’ve gotten rid of a ton of old junk. And don’t we all just love the feeling that we get when we see a nice clean shelf
So heres to change, good and bad. Because without it we wouldn’t realize just how good we’ve got it 
And last but not least, I decided to put up Wallace as well. So I hope you guys enjoyed my random ramblings and go read Wallace. It’s much more interesting
Wallace
It was an early monsoon morning. The rain poured steadily, rivulets of water streaked down buildings, trees and plants forming muddy puddles on the ground.
A large grey building stood out against the deep, navy blue sky. The dark black clouds hovering in the sky were reflected in the grimy dirty windows of the building. Bits of the already peeling plaster on the walls fell to the ground, along with the thousands of water droplets that seemed to flow endlessly from the skies.
At other parts, the roots of moss and ivy growing on the slippery walls seemed to be desperately clutching to them, trying hard not to fall down to a premature death.
A crow sat on the ledge of a window, one of the few spots sheltered from the rain. Behind it, in faded red paint, the word ‘Wallace’ was barely visible in the thick sheet of rain.
About ten stories below, the building seemed to loom over the tiny figure that stood in front of its only entrance. A dark cloak was draped over her small shoulders and she clutched hard at a black umbrella, to prevent it from blowing away in the strong wind.
Stepping cautiously into the building, she looked around. A large empty hall greeted her, dry for the most part but wet where the water had leaked through broken windows. To the left, was a passageway leading into the many other wings of the building, to the right, a wrought-iron spiral stairway led to the higher floors.
She pulled off her cloak and left it along with her umbrella on the floor to dry. Her long wet hair fell onto her shoulders and into her eyes and brushing it off her face, she headed up the rusty, old staircase.
The iron felt icy on her already cold, wet skin, sending an involuntary shiver up her spine. She climbed the stairs, ascending slowly, passing floor after dizzying floor.
By the time she had reached the top, the storm had become even worse. The sky had turned darker, the wind stronger. She left the spiral staircase and walked into a room on the left, pausing at the door to catch her breath. Seconds passed, maybe minutes; then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped back in shock, almost letting out a scream until she recognized the owner of the hand.
“So, you finally got here,” said the man who had walked up behind her, a strange look in his eyes. His voice was tinged with a mixture of sarcasm and annoyance, “I almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“I almost didn’t,” she replied quietly as her eyes darted nervously from side to side. The man gave her a queer grin and walked to the window, his back to her. He looked down and slowly reached into his pocket. There was a large flash of lightening and a loud bang.
The woman stood a few feet away, her hands shivering and shaking and this time, it wasn’t the cold. She dropped down to her knees breathing hard, the sound of her breath and the fast irregular beating of her heart seemed to be the only sound in the entire room. Then, she unclenched her fists, and the gun that she had been holding onto fell noisily to the ground, clattering across the stone floor.
Cautiously, she looked up outside the window. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a reddish-orange glow in the sky. The clouds were tinged with streaks of orange and maroon. And the man, she saw him, bent double and almost falling out of the window. And although she couldn’t see it, blood dripped from the hole in his head where the bullet had punctured it. It slid slowly down the building and colored the sign that said ‘Wallace’ a darker shade of red.
‘The last Wallace is dead now,’ she thought, looking at the pitiful form of her husband. ‘The mills are finally mine.’
And then she saw something white near his feet, the thing her husband had taken out of his pocket. She hesitated for a second and then reached for it, and found it to be a thick white envelope.
She opened it slowly with still trembling hands, tears welling up in her eyes. She held in her hand the deed to the Wallace Mills, that her husband had just transferred to her name.
Do I have to name this??
I know I really haven’t b5een6 as regular with updatin6g my b5log as I would have liked to b5e, b5ut I don6′t have that man6y readers so I don6′t thin6k it really matters. If you’re won6derin6g why there are 5’s an6d 6’s in6 places where they don6′t b5elon6g in6 this post, it’s b5ecause everytime I press the ‘B’ key (without the shift) a 5 appears after it, a 6 comes after the ‘N’ key an6d the down6 arrow deletes stuff. Yeah my keyb5oards gon6e crazy all of a sudden6, b5ut it should get b5etter soon6. At least it gave me somethin6g to write about though I will make sure there aren6′t an6y 5’s an6d 6’s where they don6′t belon6g after this para of course, but I thought you guys might like to see how wierd it is which is why I left it in6 the startin6g para.
Anyway, (notice I’ve removed the 6’s ) I’ve had this idea for a story bouncing around my head for a couple of days, and I’ve figured out the start and the end, but the middle still eludes me, so it’ll be a little longer before I can write it out. Oooh my keyboard is back to normal again Right so like I was saying, I’ll have a new story up by the end of the week.
And now since I am really proud of the work I did on these, I wanted to show them off :
And if you read this leave me a comment!! Pretty please
Still sleepy
See something really funny happened since I started this blog. I really didn’t have insomnia all the time, only when I overslept or had one of those nights when you just can’t fall asleep (everyone has those). But since the day I started writing here, I haven’t been able to sleep peacefully at all! I mean I do fall asleep but its never the proper deep sleep that I like And somehow never more than 4 hours (Which is partially my fault for not sleeping early and partially the fact that I can no longer fall asleep before 1.30am).
Its more like I have light sleep cycles punctuated with irritating dreams that I can’t remember even two minutes after I wake up, but they still leave me with an annoyed feeling, which is instantly aggravated by the sound of my alarm and the realisation that once again, I should’ve (a) slept sooner (b) changed the alarm tone on my cell (c) not hit snooze 5 times and am most likely gonna be late for college!
In any case, due to further lack of things to write I’ll leave you with some pictures
My dog Jerry the day we got him
Me and Jerry fighting for more picture space
And a pic of Kimi Raikkonen that I edited in Photoshop to learn how to use a silhouette tutorial I found on the net Added some of my own effects too though 
Jerry
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Doesn’t Jerry loook cute! I just had to put up his pic here
Half and Half
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Me and Jerry… Half and Half
Hey what do you expect when you’re tryin to take a pic of you and your dog together and he just will not stay put
Insomnia
For the hundredth time that night, he flipped over onto his back. It was quite a hot night and he felt the sweat dripping down every niche and crevice of his body. But he was sure it wasn’t all because of the heat. The thin sheet that he had covered himself with was not entwined between his legs, under his back and around his neck, almost cutting of his air supply. He felt suffocated, even though he occasionally felt a light breeze drift through the window. While disentangling himself from the sheets, he made as little noise as possible, trying his hardest not to wake his wife who lay dreaming peacefully beside him. It was only for her sake that he maintained the farce of sleeping, the charade of normalcy in his otherwise chaotic life. It was only for her that he climbed into bed each night, kissed her good night, and watched as she drifted off into her happy world of dreams. For three months before they were married, he spent every night up awake at his desk. Now he lay alone in bed with her, afraid to close his eyes, afraid to fall asleep.
Which was exactly what had happened that night, exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid. Months without sleep however took their toll and his eyes shut slowly, as he drifted off helplessly into a perilous dream. And he dreamt… The very dream that had haunted him in his sleep six months ago, the very dream that passed through his day dreams occasionally. The dream that had haunted him for months, through days and nights, shocking him, terrifying him, driving him nearly out of his own mind. He was lucky that night though, he had woken up just in time. Just before his body died, or tried to kill itself to escape that horrendous dream, the dream that would keep him awake for what seemed like forever. But forever soon passed. He wasn’t as lucky that time…
Eternal Insomnia
Eternal Insomnia is possibly one of the best descriptions I can think up for my life at this time. If you go by it’s definition, Insomnia means the inability to have sufficient sleep; sufficient being the key word in my case. My life spirals between either sleeping too little during college, or sleeping too much during the holidays, the latter being my current situation. Now sleeping too much doesn’t seem so bad until one day when you’ve slept in till 11 A.M. , napped in the afternoon and now at a quarter past three, you realise that you’ve been in your bed for the past two hours and you’re still not asleep!
Talk about the irony… No sleep = insomnia;
Too much sleep also = insomnia!!
The only thing I do like about no being able to sleep, is it always manages to get me thinking about something or the other that I would not normally think about And that really helps my creative side. That very thought got me thinking and I figure that if it helps me think differently and find things to write about, I honestly don’t mind being an insomniac forever. So thereby insomnia for me becomes a metaphor for me being creative
And now seeing as my poor mother just yelled at me for turning on the lights and disturbing everyone; and my little dog Jerry has been pacing up and down between rooms since I started writing, I’ll bid you all a good nights sleep; as I myself return to tossing and turning under the sheets, thinking of things I will never think of at another time or place. I also leave you with the story that came to me through random sleepless thoughts
Hope to see you again
-Shireen
The Eternal Insomniac… Hopefully
