April 27th, 2007
Dear diary
I have for long not written anything… perhaps I am growing old. And yet I am only 23. Perhaps, it’s the climate, the heat… and yet I feel so cold.
I have been wondering about my life too often. What is it that one wants from life? A permanent state of bliss, where all entropy in the world is just a minor irritation… or is it stray incidences of sheer joy which act as catalysts, encouraging us to go on forever, looking in nooks and corners of this universe to find a hidden moment of pleasure, anonymous moments of truth and beguiling stances of togetherness and love.
More
November 10th, 2006
Subdued dreams in my eyes
Essence they’ve yet to find,
Sweet flames of bitter desire,
What fire burns in my chest?
Lonely are these nights,
How do I sleep them?
I can’t write any longer,
Dry tears spill on my cheek.
You may be far but close,
The reason my heart beats
It feels you are missing,
And I drown in these memories.
Find me a reason to live,
Tell me how I can forget
To take a breath when
I’m not thinking of you.
Save me before I die,
Loneliness is a habit now,
Your voice I hear at night
Myself I’ve begun to lose.
Oh, I beg for help
Soaked in my own tears,
Dry tears I blink in my eyes,
Haven’t I cried enough, God?
-Sheikha.
November 6th, 2006
A spontaneous write in a person’s scrapbook on the site orkut…it all started with the usual yada yadas on what I do with my life, bored with the patented script of answers that documented it, I thought we toddle with the Grimm Brothers’ literature attempts, i.e., if the writer of Rapunzel were the Grimm Brothers…?
I was rapunzel living in a tall locked up tower and waiting for a prince to rescue me by ways of my long tresses. I had a wicked witch as a benefactress, considering my parents were thieves and stole tomatoes from her garden while my mum was expecting me, to nourish me hoping i’d turn out rosy (cheezy). After I was born, the wicked witch (well not so wicked since she did manage to grow me up into a damsel without a single blemish or scar and supplying me amply with skin tonics and creams -it was actually a dream of my other witch mother’s to have a pretty daughter since she fought terribly in her youth with ugliness)…anyway, coming back to the tale, I kinda wonder why she had me all locked up, I suppose she didn’t trust my hormones as soon as I turned 16 and that I’d probably elope with some dim witted pauper. My original tomato stealing parents never put up a lost and found for me or my timid father (I say timid ’cause he caved into my mum’s demands of stealing…rather he have belted her) come fighting through thorny weeds and dragons for his only forlorn daughter. I actually like my wicked mum because she had better plans set for me even before my birth (my original mum had full plans of birthing me incarcerated had my wicked mum have not been such an evil witch). So, I ended up with Prince, though my wicked mum couldn’t endure the loss of me and she tried to kill the handsome, chivalrous prince…only, I was kinda sick of seeing such an ugly old hag each day of my life and she was so overwhelmingly overbearing! I needed a life of fancy shoes and frilly frocks. So, without a second thought and much ado, I pushed my wicked mum out of the tall tower window. I haven’t heard from her since then, but I do know she isn’t dead. She’s a witch remember! And I do believe she had hidden wings.
The end.
-Sheikha
PS: I thought it darn cute 
July 17th, 2006
Dear Diary
I have so often heard people remarking “so and so has become a ghost of themselves.” I never really knew what that meant till I looked into the mirror today. Yes the alcohol has begun it’s work. My tell tale face reveals it all. Sometimes I feel like retracing my footsteps, lovingly trace the outline of feet and toes in the wet sands of time. When did I lose my hope? It was all I had. I lost it somewhere. Maybe I will find it lying just in some dark corner of my house. A corner I have not visited in a long time.
More
April 6th, 2006
Dear Diary,
Over a period of time, he had lost the warmth in his voice. It happened so gradually that I didnt even discern it. His touch had grown cold. I dont remember if I had ever really noticed it. Suddenly one day, he was gone. Just like that. It didn’t shock me. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t anticipated it. Neither was it the first time that he had walked out on me. He had done it before. So many times that I had lost count. Only this time, I decided to close the doors behind him…
The fact that he was gone didn’t really need to sink in. I was kind of relieved More
March 6th, 2006
Dear Diary
It’s one of those days when you wake up with an ache in your head and a fever. There are places to go to. People to meet. Important people. Big people. And I find myself unable to even get out from the bed. My eyes are puffy, having cried myself to sleep again last night.
I never ever liked getting dressed. But I used to. For him. So that when he came home, tired from work and bitter from More
December 19th, 2005
Dear Diary
Mom always told me to be careful of men. She told me I should make a prudent choice when the time came. I see him sleeping besides me and I feel sorry that I didn’t listen to her back then. Of all the things she used to say, I regret not having listened to this particular advice.
When my sister got married, we were all very happy for her. They seemed to be in love. 2 months later, she said to me - don’t marry the worst mistake More
