'FASHIONISTA'.

I had planned on a thousand things, or well, at least I planned a few enough to name, starting with this really strange ‘solo’ story that I had thought-out, and then the Harry Potter connection since I’ve always felt that the owls were a little too human as they are, knowing the when/where/why of stuff, and hence it wasn’t a personal perversion that had me link Harry to Hedwig, but just a natural enough suspicion, or at least something that’s adequately natural (or even valid) to me.

I don’t know when exactly this began, though. I remember this time when I walked the campus of IIT Kanpur and that wasn’t exactly purposeless, but all the same it served to make me see some purpose higher than that which I initially set out to, and I think that’s where ‘Fashionista’ was officially born except that I didn’t name it so back then, I hadn’t named it as anything actually but just this vague idea that the most deserving of women are those who’d never seek, you know, there’s such a level of self-satisfaction and I doubt if you’d be thinking of the stratum of society that I’m dealing with as I say that, maybe you’re just thinking of the quietest girl around or the most intelligent but I’m talking on the lines of impoverished and ‘dying hungry’. This isn’t me trying to be a Messiah, though, just the plain-old jerk who’s obsessed with his own thoughts rather than someone else’s, and it was that jerk who came up with these lines that kind of serve to be the finale.

“Half a life in chaos spent,

dressed down, citing innocence,

but how bad can innocence be?

And the rest of it, a bargain earned

of petrol drops that refused to burn,

and a heart that still spells belief…

it’s just the heart that still believes.”

‘Anti-Thesis’ is still technically incomplete, although I had called it to be the eighth addition to ‘My Book of Rhymes’. Turns out I can always retrace and sort of eat my words when it comes to myself, so the eighth addition would officially be ‘Fashionista’ instead.

“She’s all around, all around,

in this world that’d never lift her;

She’s all around, all around,

little miss underdone Fashionista.”

Music? I sort of imagined this ‘Harder’ (David Gray, ‘Draw the Line’) kind of vocal with a very Dylan ambience as is supposed to be when getting social, for disco beats don’t really make it to the intended bunch, subject to an intermediate consumption that only screws it up, gold to shit. Guitar solos are most welcome, though: Nothing wails better, truly.