Rewind

Hey jot down a few of your most memorable times this year in the comments' column na?
Cheeries, my dearies!

Heylo, we're three days from end of the year, and have no real goals in the head. So I guess it's best to see through the past year!
Of course, I'm banking on my 'write-past-midnight' skill to deliver what could have been a worse post. Happy birthday to all those born on the 29th of December, specially to you, Gigi- my neighbour and the only person in the building who appreciates Secondhand Serenade. And the only neighbour who you get to see twice a year, and still stay on great terms with. She also helped me nurse Simba.
I'm on a horrid spree of indecisiveness. Ranging from people to things to ideas.
The year began with- my 12th. I wasn't really obsessed about it the way I should have been, but there you go- I am not the world's most hardworking person.
Thanks to my mum's acquaintance, Mr. Dighe, though- I did get some hope in chemistry and physics. And mathematics (God bless him).
Feb brought along a lot of studying, and that surprise chill in the begnning. Of course, another Valentine's day gone wonky, with nothing at all- but I live on hope!
March first got exams, then the beginning of a wonderful vacation, all of which you can read on the blog. It also gave me the hint that cupid was hanging around Namaskaar these days!
April got a series of travels and piercing (my nose) and Shiamak and most importantly CEB!! Which meant new experiences and people and shocks and surprises...and the rise of the carrom reign. The class crowd still had CET preps going on. So no point disturbing them. A week with only Dad was great, he let me do everything I wanted- get friends over, play, pierce, dance, stay up to 10.30 on the benches...you name it.
May was just pretty much the same, though outings had come to a halt- Shiamak ruled my life. Carrom and Shiamak constituted my life. With a little more on the lovey dovey part.Of course, there was the anniversary issue of CEB to write in...10th batch of students.
June got on with results, Simba, running about for colleges, getting through at UPG (LOVE MY COLLEGE!!), the fact that I couldn't make it to Xav broke my heart- I cried on the train. The really nice thing to happen was the interview with CRY's Irwin Fernandes. Very sweet.
July was terrible. The death, the big fat heartbreak, the awkwardness. Went for a movie with Mihir, who managed to irritate Myron- the guy-who-can't-be-irritated. But the good news was- my college. I met those people who are as of now some of my closest friends.
August was moderately ok. Had a lot of intercollegiate, added to Shiamak. My birthday was on the day of my first presentation. Other presentations followed.
September was happily occupied by projects. And then entered SNIFF!
It has taken over my life since!
October I got a lucky break for exams, amidst those wars against the HoD. Then entered my new cellphone. I adore it. In the end of October I went in for the back-to-my-roots trip to the south- where I met a load of relatives I didn't know existed, and visited some of the best houses in the world.

November was good too. A Diwali well spent outside. My SNIFF work continued, with the battle over HoD still being fought by Khan...and brochures being made and corrected and made all over again. Registration boomed.
December was the most entertaining...what with two of my good friends hooking up, and the WEIRD IV. The after shock was something else...joy, relief, stronger bonds. The end was laced by another death on the family- that of my grandpa's brother, the day before yesterday.
Looking for a little happiness as the year ends.

Psst!

The Mehendi, 3 hours after I washed the powder off. I think I can do better, though.
Got mehendi on my hands (I refuse to call it Henna, for god's sake, it's so beautifully Indian to call it Mehendi, though Henna is Indian too!). The last time I had that was my cousin's wedding last year- both hands covered, from some roadside artist in Vile-Parle, managed to soil Manasi's shirt.
It was a Sunday, 7th of May, just a after a chem and physics test. Manasi met my friend Myron, for the first time, she was wearing the green Hongkong shirt, and we had masala chhaas at the bus stop!
Mehendi also brings along a lot of other memories, one related to Myron- this was the next day, after the wedding, in class. Someone, Karvi I think, had started teasing him about whose 'haath peela karega' and all.
Another one is when I wrote, drew cryptically actually, a certain 'crush's name a little over my ankle. Wore socks for a week in the house, claiming it was cold. I had to feign a fever an entire week. It was really cute, and quite daring considering a cursed-to-cowardice kid like me. This must've been in the 11th, I was VERY crazy about him!
Mehendi gives me a very Indian feel, you know. Kinda pleasantly bridal too, if you know what I mean. No, no hurry to get married, no prince charming in mind (well...maybe...)- just a very giggly feeling takes over.
This time, the design's got my festival logo in it. SNIFF obsessed!
Cheers!
Happy Christmas!

Movie'd

Was watching Karan-Arjun a few minutes back. For a lot of reasons, I shouldn't. Remembered a post scribbled some three years back on my long forgotten MSN blog, or space, whichever you prefer. I've worked pretty hard at editing the post to convert it from hyper-teen SMS lingo which doesn't make sense anymore to legible English.
The central idea stayed the same, only that I have a few positive opinions of SRK these days too.
Indulge.

You ought to know what kind of movies you can watch and you can't watch. I mean not what's 'meant for you ' and otherwise, but what you need patience and stamina for and what comes easy.
But I wish I had realized this earlier..because right now I really can't tolerate some movies I was rather fond of before.
Take for example:

Hum Aapke Hai Kaun.
genre: family, drama, musical..
..had to be...its got a 20-something member family, everyone who's BAAAD at acting, and 13 songs...I won't ask anyone to 'beat that'...because who would want to watch a movie with the same or more songs..
At the age of 6, when the disastrous movie was released...I was head over heels in luuuv with Salman. So it was a must watch for me...moreover I ws pretty fond of (the late)laxmikant berde...whp was soooooo 'funny' for me...and then the best part....I was amazed by Renuka Shahane-Rana who played good ol' pooja bhabhi or jiji in the movie...for, i think, her smile...something like that.
And now...I hav personally banned Salman as to me he is a blot on the name of humanity, laxmikant berde on any of the channels on TV and the TV goes off..and well, Renuka who?

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai
genre: family, friendship, relationships
Yeah rite...family for the sake of it...no family there lasted without a death, friendship swapped for a stupid crush, and more on anti-relationships than relationships...except if you are gonna count Shah Rukh's always available lecture on 'My mother'
Ok, i was 8..like SRK's beti Anjali in the movie, with a hairstyle like Kajol before the interval, liked singing n dancing....and then onwards wanted to go really badly to Simla...and liking SRK was a fad..even 2de. Rani Mukherji was ideal mummy...believe it or not I kinda wished my mummy was a college friend of daddy's and his second wife too...ok, that's sad.
now its soooo yuck..how can a mother give her 8 year old daughter such an emotional load to carry along?? Kajol's wig makes me wanna throw up, I prefer not dancing in public, and to hell with Simla, Matheran's good enough for me...I can't believe I liked Shah Rukh..he's sooo predictable, its like, you see the first show of his latest movie and you can tell his next dialogue...c'mon man, get a life!! The only thing that's stayed constant is my utter adoration for Rani...she's amazing...unbeatable..WOW!!!

Other movies I fell in love with were:
Raja Hindustani
Mr & Mrs Khiladi..yes there was a movie like that- remember 'jab tak rahega samose mein aloo'?
Karan Arjun

But some movies which released along the same period but still make sense are....
Kabhi Haan Kabhi Na
Andaaz Apna Apna
Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar

I guess like man himself, his choices and opinions also evolve.
I'm relieved mine have.

I'd say that's a fairly good job by a 15 year old, kya?

About a 17-and-a-half year old me.

An awfully long time back, when Roadies 5.0 was still on air, I'd written a common 'about me' for Facebook and Orkut. One of the my favourite, hence has probably written after a glass of 7UP or at 4am. Those are the conditions when I give out good stuff.
I liked it a lot, so what better way to preserve it than to copy-paste it to your blog. Yes, I am extremely sleepy.
I shall now finally write a fresh about me, keeping this one in mind.
Do read, mindlessly.

My current BIG crush is Rannvijay. Hmm…the ‘Roadies’ fellow that’s right. Another thing about him, For the people who this might make sense to. He does resemble one guy I’m really confused about.
Also the fact that I’m officially out of love. It’s like this: you’re a swingy, see-sawy teenager with not even the basic control of hormones, and when there’s a ‘void’ is your assumed love-life, you grab at whatever’s in sight. Something like the drowning man and the straw story. So you grapple, and in my case..it’s something of a life-saver. But one fine day this supposed ‘love story’…well you grow out of it. Distance makes the heart grow fonder only if you are a character from Shakespearean era. It just gives you time to look at other prospects, compare them to what you had at first, and lo! You have a contender for your premkatha.
If this goes on for too long, you either
1. keep bumbling around like a nymphomaniac who’s all gaga over the slightest suggestion of maleness (which did not happen in my case)
or
2. you grow bored, start seeing a happier life without crushlet interference, and then enjoy it like those really bold middle-aged women you read about who’re just out of a tragic marriage and go living their life with the occasional kitty parties, take up hobby classes…blah blah.
My case is not so boring. I’m not the kitty party type, won’t take up hobby classes…’I know everything you see, and most importantly, I’m not exactly a middle-aged divorcee.
Today, even without chemical equations and De Broglie’s hypothesis, I feel..or I know I have a lot to learn. And in turn in the past two years I have learnt a lot. From textbooks, people, traffic jams, friends, crushes…everything I passed through. I’m proud to say I know a lot more about how my life functions practically than most other people my age. For them what counted were the marks. For me, it’s the learning.
My dream guy **ho hum** is 6 feet tall, can dance, is really smart with words, and loves dogs. He could have a stubble, and also be a genius. For that matter, he's real, just tooooo far away these days!

Hey giggle giggle.
:)

We and me

So we walked the distance today
Held hands, smiled about
We tried to show we're two best friends
And said we'd always be around

Then there were others who called it love
and then there were few who didn't understand
That the connection was somewhere deep in our hearts
And not just lost in intertwined hands

We walked through fields of yellow flowers
And walked through rain and sharp stones
We walked through thorns and walked through clouds
And places where our feet froze

On our journey to hell and back
We met our friends, we battled our foes
What we feared we conquered, what lost was gained
Feelings and thoughts beyond our know

Then came the day when my friend's heart vanished
To someplace he didn't reveal
He lied to keep her secret safe
And made bruises in me that still won't heal

What he betrayed was a trust of a friend
Who promised to stand by till the end
What he missed on his way to woo his girl
That he'd left half of him in a ruthless world

Sometimes time does heal all wounds
Sometimes, it just forgets
Sometimes one friend only gives
While the other unintentionally only gets

It could've been that it was love
That he felt for the maiden fair
So I was blind to hurt and bleed
Life's little games aren't always fair

Today we stand still smiling well
And trust stays hovering more than ever
I found a way to live with cuts
We and me shall stay friends forever.

And then again...

I'm back to the giggling phase. Sometimes I really wonder if I'm all that sane. I see look-alikes of the guy I'm currently whooshing over, and blush all the while.
Like today. Some random basketball player from Xavier's was all it took to have me fantasizing (again!)of the multi-talented genius.
Am I the only person who daydreams about the person I am so into?
Are there others who smile to themselves when that one comes to their mind?
Are there more of me who are constantly wishing he wasn't all that far away?
Are these signs of falling into a deep, dark pit of dreams and words and pictures of one day being by his side?

Mumbai Meri Jaan.

Another attack. The Taj, the Trident and Colaba under attack. Add to it the blasts and firings at GT, Cama hospitals and the taxi at Vile Parle. Physically, there has been a death count of about 200- police and civilians included, whereas the injured number a mighty 300-plus. Heritage structures mutilated, and property lost along with irreplaceable lives. Here we see the picture of the city of Mumbai broken in its proudest junctures, at a time when it is rising to global scales which no other city in India has achieved, and still staring with wide eyed surprise at the encounter with terror it has faced.
Here we see the picture of a city whose famed ‘spirit’ has evaporate in the dark clouds of terror, discrimination, politics, and blood of the innocent. The first three factors can be termed as evil without batting an eyelid, but the last- it signifies the undue and unfair quota that is included in the foursome of the darkness that envelopes the city at this hour.
The ‘spirit’ of Mumbai, they say, is resilient and can help the citizens overcome any disaster that comes its way. What people overlook is that here, every citizen has no choice, but to put the past behind them. In the rush for basics of food, shelter and education, the Mumbaikar has to, without an option, work like there has been nothing wrong in their life. Mindlessly, machine-like. The city doesn’t bounce back from the shackles; it smudges its past experiences into its history and works for the uncertain future. All this so that if one day any of their loved ones do disappear in flames of terror, they still have the means to continue life- an incomplete, lonely life.
This attack has rendered the spirit of Mumbai helpless, aghast with the feeling that even though they live in a metro that never sleeps, someone has infiltrated what should be the most secure points in the city. It would be a pity, or a blemish on the pride of Mumbaikars, if in three days’ time, life were to resume to normal pace, with reports about the blasts occupying the first page today, the second in three further days, and slip into the oblivion like every other terrorizing attack does. We claim to be a proud country, but we aren’t too sure if what we are proud of still exists.
A reality check would do the country good. Are we proud of our past, our struggle for independence? Well the youngest person to be alive when the country was in foreign clutches would today be 61 years old, a senior citizen past retirement. It’s the past, and as much as the country did show unprecedented valour at that point, let us face the fact that we aren’t living up to the India our forefathers would thought we’d live to value. Are we proud of our culture? Then why is it that today parents resort to slip into the friend’s shoes, that teachers are no longer paid good respect to, and that the original forms of art, science and literature have now vanished? Are we proud of our farmers, our fruitful land? Please explain the resorting of suicides by farmers. Are we proud of the army? Then why are they underpaid? If we have overcome discrimination, why do communities fight to prove themselves backward? What are we oozing patriotism in movies for?
Let us face the truth. We haven’t gained self respect in our independent era. The glory we revel in is brought to us by our forefathers, and we have done nothing to increase it. Success and fame is not something Indians can handle, only because as a country we are used to being slow, bent, and backwards. Hundreds of people lose their lives every year due to some freak mishap which we title ‘terrorism’ and ‘condemned’, and do nothing about. In our history of 10,000 years, India hasn’t invaded a single country. Be it for the sake of egoistic expansion, ruling might, war, revenge. We are too used to bending backwards to make way for others to go ahead. The ahimnsa strategy has showed up as a lame pretext to not bear the load of asserting ourselves and then facing the opposition, like true heroes.
Where does the Saare Jahaan Se Achha brigade lead us now?
People die like mosquitoes in the country every year due to our ‘condemned’ terrorism maladies, yet we plead for peace, and rational thought. Why aren’t we ever on the offensive? Why do we get stomped out? Today we strive to achieve American acceptance, every decision requires the stamp of approval by the US. But why would that happen if our minds are still moulded in the ‘atithi devo bhava’ clamp? Take the example of ‘9/11’ or Daniel Pearl. Two buildings collapsed, one reporter murdered, and the country announces war. No second thoughts, no permissions- only revenge. And whether or not they are successful in their motives is another question. What matters is that no country looks at them without thinking twice. And here we are, asking for negotiations. A thousand lives negotiated. How neat.
Our politically correct attitude makes our disasters come into American perspective- the recent bombings are the ‘9/11 of India’. The statement that rubbishes India’s identity as a nation that is not American. Why isn’t it 26/11? Our heritage monument is hurt, and we say, ‘Just like America?’ It’s sad that India has to live by American standards, and it has begun to believe that we actually are a part of the Superpower and not one ourselves.
I’ve mentioned the system in a collective term, as in ‘we’, ‘our’, ‘us’ etc, because when something goes wrong in the country, and the government is blamed, we forget that it is we who decide who rules. We are as responsible (or irresponsible) for the lack of effective governance.
What I ask for here, is a revamp. A government that is more a company working for collective gains than political.
All I ask for here, is that the sacrifice of those people who died in the attack be avenged, duly, strongly, and in a way the world remembers that India is not one to live with a subdues identity and a bowed head, anymore.