La la la dididi lalala
whatever.
It's been a fun summer so far (read:I'm out of being grounded), and only very few more things can make it more fun.
Story till now:
1. Dostini's studying full-swing. If she gets more padhaako,i'm gonna have to start calling her Hermione Granger. she'd like that,daresay. she's coming with me for the Shiamak friends' special. Yayyy!!
2.Saxxxy Rakhi's gonna convert to Japanism. Implies, now she's eating with chopsticks and relishes lizards and bugs. She devoured a live snake in one go the other day. Russell's viper, at that. cool na?
3.Dubbed's still in Mallu gaao. i miss having her omnipresence around. Like she's never not there. SMS's occasionally come this way.
4.Branded. I'm missing him like never before, specially since the Madhavan-Vidya Airtel ad. Maddy leaks Branded. Damn i miss that super sweet bugger. Come back!!
5.Lambodar's back. He's had a helluva time in Goa. keeps beaming all through. Lucky bugger. I'm running off with him the next time. There's a talk of a Karaoke bar. oooooooooohhhhhh.
6.Perennial Smarty***trying hard to keep a straight face***. I hate weekdays. He's never around for carrom. I can't monopolize without that guy. okay, fine. No i'm not giggling.
As happy goes...
Alright I'm in that bad a mood that i actually copy pasted this bit of what i thought was 'Puurrrr'-fect for the occassion when you feel so lost out on yourself your creativity is limited to starting to appreciate what some fellow 'really-bugged-and-mentally-troubled' person has written in as much a crappy mood as you are to read the whole thing.
The result? I feel better thinking that i may not be the lamest creature about to be extinct. Crappy posts do 2 things to your self-regard:
1.They boost your self-esteem when you tell yourself,"what a mushy,candy-floss brained moron so-snd-so is to write such glib"
2.you realise that life's not fair to a whole lot of people.at least, another one person who's probably been through the same thing you have, but not as severe since he/she was absolutely capable of thinking beyond the hurt and expressing it. so, your feelings are deeper!you have what can save the world...Sensitivity!
See?I'm better already!though i still feel i should post this bit, hope some maha-bugged/hurt/angry/ripped fellow can read this and appease that murder-intent mind.
(Quoting from the orkut profile of a certain Prabhjot Virk..yes,roadies loveroos, that's the one)
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love!!!!!"
The result? I feel better thinking that i may not be the lamest creature about to be extinct. Crappy posts do 2 things to your self-regard:
1.They boost your self-esteem when you tell yourself,"what a mushy,candy-floss brained moron so-snd-so is to write such glib"
2.you realise that life's not fair to a whole lot of people.at least, another one person who's probably been through the same thing you have, but not as severe since he/she was absolutely capable of thinking beyond the hurt and expressing it. so, your feelings are deeper!you have what can save the world...Sensitivity!
See?I'm better already!though i still feel i should post this bit, hope some maha-bugged/hurt/angry/ripped fellow can read this and appease that murder-intent mind.
(Quoting from the orkut profile of a certain Prabhjot Virk..yes,roadies loveroos, that's the one)
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love!!!!!"
Things that hurt
Felt like it, wrote it.
I wish you could see me wake up mom
While you made the breakfast today
And while you told me to take the dog down
I wish you'd heard what i'd to say
I wish you could see me grin at you
And ask for a morning hug
When you wiped through the furniture and cleaned the floor
And put on the brand new rug
I wish you'd watch me dress up mom,
just as i stepped outdoors
and tell me what sandal i should wear
while you were doing the chores.
you should've really seen me dust the table
and make the living room spotlessly clean
so that the seating's perfect and the beds are neat
and in the sunlight the glasstops gleam
you really made a good lunch today
A feast i'd never miss
and when i came to thank you for the meal
you were too busy for my kiss
so you'd missed the best years of your life
growing a clan of your own
and when you look back and reminisce
you'd see two great kids you've grown
I'm sorry that i hurt you the other day
when i refused to walk the dog
My leg was hurting and i couldn't tell
When you called me a lifeless log
I'm sorry for screaming at my younger brother
because he misbehaved
but i couldn't help stopping him rot
and it was your attention for which i craved
I'm sorry for the classes i had to bunk
because of the headache that day
and you said i was wasting your hard earned money
and that i was wasting away
I'm sorry for listening to everything
when i could've had a ball
for helping you about, and studying hard
And acting to your call
I'm sorry for the times i wasnt naughty
when you asked me to be a child
I really believed it'd cause you way less trouble
If i refrained and didn't act wild
I really thought i'd be a good girl
and never repent for that
I wanted to make life easier for you mum
while you spent all your time on that brat
I thought it'd be okay to wipe your eyes
after everytime your son made you cry
I never believed and still won't
when all i can think,is 'why did i?'
I'm sorry for the trouble mom
I thought i'd be a good girl and make you smile
Is it because you never could have your way mom,
that you never let me have mine?
why do i feel like a report card mom?
why do i feel like a weighing scale?
why do i feel that all i count for
is how much i weigh and i don't fail?
Thanks for the money you give me mom
Though daddy could've given it to me too
all i'm asking is for a little more attention mom
or for that, i wish i were your problem too.
I wish you could see me wake up mom
While you made the breakfast today
And while you told me to take the dog down
I wish you'd heard what i'd to say
I wish you could see me grin at you
And ask for a morning hug
When you wiped through the furniture and cleaned the floor
And put on the brand new rug
I wish you'd watch me dress up mom,
just as i stepped outdoors
and tell me what sandal i should wear
while you were doing the chores.
you should've really seen me dust the table
and make the living room spotlessly clean
so that the seating's perfect and the beds are neat
and in the sunlight the glasstops gleam
you really made a good lunch today
A feast i'd never miss
and when i came to thank you for the meal
you were too busy for my kiss
so you'd missed the best years of your life
growing a clan of your own
and when you look back and reminisce
you'd see two great kids you've grown
I'm sorry that i hurt you the other day
when i refused to walk the dog
My leg was hurting and i couldn't tell
When you called me a lifeless log
I'm sorry for screaming at my younger brother
because he misbehaved
but i couldn't help stopping him rot
and it was your attention for which i craved
I'm sorry for the classes i had to bunk
because of the headache that day
and you said i was wasting your hard earned money
and that i was wasting away
I'm sorry for listening to everything
when i could've had a ball
for helping you about, and studying hard
And acting to your call
I'm sorry for the times i wasnt naughty
when you asked me to be a child
I really believed it'd cause you way less trouble
If i refrained and didn't act wild
I really thought i'd be a good girl
and never repent for that
I wanted to make life easier for you mum
while you spent all your time on that brat
I thought it'd be okay to wipe your eyes
after everytime your son made you cry
I never believed and still won't
when all i can think,is 'why did i?'
I'm sorry for the trouble mom
I thought i'd be a good girl and make you smile
Is it because you never could have your way mom,
that you never let me have mine?
why do i feel like a report card mom?
why do i feel like a weighing scale?
why do i feel that all i count for
is how much i weigh and i don't fail?
Thanks for the money you give me mom
Though daddy could've given it to me too
all i'm asking is for a little more attention mom
or for that, i wish i were your problem too.
That sour thing
Not a very good one today. Okay, I could say it was a good one and then landed up being super-lousy, thanks to the person who I’ve dedicated the previous entry to. One of life's little ironies, I suppose.
So, I got up on time.Went for a walk on time. Had breakfast (yes,on time). Dusted, cleaned, helped in the kitchen. And then started to write another entry on the PC. Enter Dad. He sees me watching this video on YouTube, clean one, at that, and claims I’ve been watching movies since the past week. Excuse me? I saw ‘The Lion King’ after 6 months, mind you, and the last movie I saw was ‘U, Me aur Hum’ last Monday (okay, okay. That doesn’t qualify for a movie, or watching, but tell that to my dad). So he thinks I’ve been watching movies and starts asking me to stop using this PC for all useless sakes, and stuff, so that he can check the stocks, and offers me his laptop. Why on earth should I budge? You got a laptop? You use the laptop. So he starts about how I waste his money and how I should learn to pay my own bills.
Now, THAT pisses me off major. Someone tell him he’s supposed to fend for all my needs, till I start earning. Because, yes, he’s the DAD. I’m the daughter. The point being, you don’t ask someone who you’ve created and will be dependant on you till she comes of age to start paying her bills. That’s because you are supposed to, like it or not.
And when I yell at him, he’s obnoxious enough to grin. That’s it. That man’s losing it. I get wild, and slam the door on his face, and still haven’t spoken to him. After about half an hour of anger finding a vent through heated tears and cuss-words, I finally reduce crying, the door’s locked, and I get an idea. I have to start the A.C. Now, you don’t have a choice but to relent to my demands. And then mum comes in. I expect to be yelled at for the tantrum. Instead she calmly goes like, “See you are behaving just the way I used to. Be a little tactful. Do what you usually tell me to do.” I stared with my mouth wide open. There was my mum, my saviour!
So, I walk out of the room. Get a Harry Potter, and my cell phone. And calmly listen and read. Dad enters and leaves the room several times, and I’m sitting with the A.C. on and a book in hand with music in the background. Impertinent? So be it.
After my mum hinted that I should do just what I like, there was this brand new confidence in me. And I won’t pretend it didn’t make me happy. After that, I got up, had a glassful of cold coffee, called my friend over, and am still on the PC, without letting my father talk to me.
This won’t end soon. I won’t let it. He shouldn’t have yelled in the first place, or laughed later. There’s this thing I’ve got called pride, and I won’t let anyone, let alone my father, hurt it. You can laugh at my face when I’m mad, but that wouldn't mean I’d let you.
So, I got up on time.Went for a walk on time. Had breakfast (yes,on time). Dusted, cleaned, helped in the kitchen. And then started to write another entry on the PC. Enter Dad. He sees me watching this video on YouTube, clean one, at that, and claims I’ve been watching movies since the past week. Excuse me? I saw ‘The Lion King’ after 6 months, mind you, and the last movie I saw was ‘U, Me aur Hum’ last Monday (okay, okay. That doesn’t qualify for a movie, or watching, but tell that to my dad). So he thinks I’ve been watching movies and starts asking me to stop using this PC for all useless sakes, and stuff, so that he can check the stocks, and offers me his laptop. Why on earth should I budge? You got a laptop? You use the laptop. So he starts about how I waste his money and how I should learn to pay my own bills.
Now, THAT pisses me off major. Someone tell him he’s supposed to fend for all my needs, till I start earning. Because, yes, he’s the DAD. I’m the daughter. The point being, you don’t ask someone who you’ve created and will be dependant on you till she comes of age to start paying her bills. That’s because you are supposed to, like it or not.
And when I yell at him, he’s obnoxious enough to grin. That’s it. That man’s losing it. I get wild, and slam the door on his face, and still haven’t spoken to him. After about half an hour of anger finding a vent through heated tears and cuss-words, I finally reduce crying, the door’s locked, and I get an idea. I have to start the A.C. Now, you don’t have a choice but to relent to my demands. And then mum comes in. I expect to be yelled at for the tantrum. Instead she calmly goes like, “See you are behaving just the way I used to. Be a little tactful. Do what you usually tell me to do.” I stared with my mouth wide open. There was my mum, my saviour!
So, I walk out of the room. Get a Harry Potter, and my cell phone. And calmly listen and read. Dad enters and leaves the room several times, and I’m sitting with the A.C. on and a book in hand with music in the background. Impertinent? So be it.
After my mum hinted that I should do just what I like, there was this brand new confidence in me. And I won’t pretend it didn’t make me happy. After that, I got up, had a glassful of cold coffee, called my friend over, and am still on the PC, without letting my father talk to me.
This won’t end soon. I won’t let it. He shouldn’t have yelled in the first place, or laughed later. There’s this thing I’ve got called pride, and I won’t let anyone, let alone my father, hurt it. You can laugh at my face when I’m mad, but that wouldn't mean I’d let you.
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