In the truest sense- #Woot!
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Birthday no.21
What makes this birthday special?
1. I'm still at office.
2. I'm not allowed to drink, necessarily or legally, but they make a big deal of it anyway.
3. Mum and Dad are both here, as in the same city. Long time.
4. I'm happy, and NOTHING has gone wrong today.
5. I'm with new friends and I'll be meeting the old ones.
6. I'm actually following Manasi's instructions. As opposed to doing something in the 180.
7. Oh well who cares!
So yes, Thank you- as far as today goes, to Maa and Dadda, for staying up. To Coll and Shri- for turning up (surprise surprise), Rahul (the REAL surprise) for the event co-ordination, Manasi- for the day-long SMSes. To Babboo- for that one little mail.
Everyone who called. Rishanka for the loooong birthday call :) shared with the dog.
Everyone who posted. 247 posts as of right now. I have LOADSA friends!
Radhi, Ankit, Renu.
And the office gang. Party (ALisha- rollypollyrollypollyrightleftright) abhi baaki hai!
And now, the rest of ze party! Yaaaayyyy!!!
Hum bade ho gaye!
1. I'm still at office.
2. I'm not allowed to drink, necessarily or legally, but they make a big deal of it anyway.
3. Mum and Dad are both here, as in the same city. Long time.
4. I'm happy, and NOTHING has gone wrong today.
5. I'm with new friends and I'll be meeting the old ones.
6. I'm actually following Manasi's instructions. As opposed to doing something in the 180.
7. Oh well who cares!
So yes, Thank you- as far as today goes, to Maa and Dadda, for staying up. To Coll and Shri- for turning up (surprise surprise), Rahul (the REAL surprise) for the event co-ordination, Manasi- for the day-long SMSes. To Babboo- for that one little mail.
Everyone who called. Rishanka for the loooong birthday call :) shared with the dog.
Everyone who posted. 247 posts as of right now. I have LOADSA friends!
Radhi, Ankit, Renu.
And the office gang. Party (ALisha- rollypollyrollypollyrightleftright) abhi baaki hai!
And now, the rest of ze party! Yaaaayyyy!!!
Hum bade ho gaye!
Homeless
A home that lay abandoned
Its tenants strewn aside
The rust claiming its railings
The beauty locked up inside
The home that witnessed growth
Its own and ours as well
A time that was cherished
A story we'd love to tell
No tears can stop the burning
Of the eyes that cared to see
A floor that kept creaking
Like a dusty memory
Who stepped into the garden?
Have you seen the glorious past?
Felt dew dry up on petals?
Was it a spring that didn't last?
What floor suddenly caved in?
What pillar and post gave?
Mirage of a childhood
Under that cement grave
A hum in the splintering steps
That led to a heaven of pride
Who knew what was beyond that?
What secrets the sky would hide?
A tree may stand where once it had
A blade of grass may grow
But the winds will never sweep through
The familiar willows we know
We pass through the neighbourhoods
No scowls, and yet no smiles
A home that no one forgot
A dream faded by the while.
The children now build castles
On sands we’d once snuggle in
Grains of which we loved so much
Corners which we struggled in
The fence now shuts out a world
That once welcomed hearts abound
My home, my heaven, my streak of light
Now lies battered to the ground
Its tenants strewn aside
The rust claiming its railings
The beauty locked up inside
The home that witnessed growth
Its own and ours as well
A time that was cherished
A story we'd love to tell
No tears can stop the burning
Of the eyes that cared to see
A floor that kept creaking
Like a dusty memory
Who stepped into the garden?
Have you seen the glorious past?
Felt dew dry up on petals?
Was it a spring that didn't last?
What floor suddenly caved in?
What pillar and post gave?
Mirage of a childhood
Under that cement grave
A hum in the splintering steps
That led to a heaven of pride
Who knew what was beyond that?
What secrets the sky would hide?
A tree may stand where once it had
A blade of grass may grow
But the winds will never sweep through
The familiar willows we know
We pass through the neighbourhoods
No scowls, and yet no smiles
A home that no one forgot
A dream faded by the while.
The children now build castles
On sands we’d once snuggle in
Grains of which we loved so much
Corners which we struggled in
The fence now shuts out a world
That once welcomed hearts abound
My home, my heaven, my streak of light
Now lies battered to the ground
The assholeousness of it all
A day of revelations, nahi?
I reveal a 9-month old secret to one (no I'm not delivering anytime soon) and a 9 week old to another. One is surprised, the other isn't. My head is spinning, tooth shaking, I have huge responsibility tomorrow. I'm insanely happy, and I have nothing more to say this time.
Or do I?
What is it to be valued?
How do you define who cares?
A benefit of doubt for the uncaring?
Or the careless?
You look, we saw- I was conquered.
And a battle I threw away to run back- only to myself.
This time I refuse to be alone, to be shaking at the knees and begging myself to keep my sanity.
I chose me, over him.
Which, by the way, is a good feeling. Like that insane day when everything changed.
Long back, before I knew he existed.
I'm my own story- my Velutha exists, my Ammu shall live.
I'm a storm full of emotions again, but this time the tide shall take charge, clean the shores and find new ones.
I lived again today.
My dream of falling hard shall come true again. This is not it- not this tragedy of a story. I choose a happily-ever-after. I'll skip what he's taking.
Yes, I'm rambling, but I assure you, my rambles make more sense this time.
No one shall be hurt, no one shall drown.
And in any case, it doesn't matter to him. And even if it does, that doesn't bother me.
The stupidity, or the assholeousness of it all lies in the fact that I was at fault. They'd warned me, like MAJOR warned. I still believed I could be the difference (with the next one, I say, I will be) but nay. I'm sooooo insistent on being correct I can't see my mistakes there. Why blame the bugger, he was just doing what he always did.
Happy birthday, Radhika.
To a new dawn.
I reveal a 9-month old secret to one (no I'm not delivering anytime soon) and a 9 week old to another. One is surprised, the other isn't. My head is spinning, tooth shaking, I have huge responsibility tomorrow. I'm insanely happy, and I have nothing more to say this time.
Or do I?
What is it to be valued?
How do you define who cares?
A benefit of doubt for the uncaring?
Or the careless?
You look, we saw- I was conquered.
And a battle I threw away to run back- only to myself.
This time I refuse to be alone, to be shaking at the knees and begging myself to keep my sanity.
I chose me, over him.
Which, by the way, is a good feeling. Like that insane day when everything changed.
Long back, before I knew he existed.
I'm my own story- my Velutha exists, my Ammu shall live.
I'm a storm full of emotions again, but this time the tide shall take charge, clean the shores and find new ones.
I lived again today.
My dream of falling hard shall come true again. This is not it- not this tragedy of a story. I choose a happily-ever-after. I'll skip what he's taking.
Yes, I'm rambling, but I assure you, my rambles make more sense this time.
No one shall be hurt, no one shall drown.
And in any case, it doesn't matter to him. And even if it does, that doesn't bother me.
The stupidity, or the assholeousness of it all lies in the fact that I was at fault. They'd warned me, like MAJOR warned. I still believed I could be the difference (with the next one, I say, I will be) but nay. I'm sooooo insistent on being correct I can't see my mistakes there. Why blame the bugger, he was just doing what he always did.
Happy birthday, Radhika.
To a new dawn.
Birthday no.20.
7 hours of presentation. Had fun, laughed, got bored.
Manasi, Shri, Clar, Coll co-ordinated with my spy-cum-friends Radhi and Shristi- surrrprised me at college...Rishanka joined the celebration too...glad she did!
Had awesome fun. Like awesome fun.
At aunt's place- with family. Eating, laughing, fighting, dancing.
Read Dad's message. Cried.
Loved my birthday.
Manasi, Shri, Clar, Coll co-ordinated with my spy-cum-friends Radhi and Shristi- surrrprised me at college...Rishanka joined the celebration too...glad she did!
Had awesome fun. Like awesome fun.
At aunt's place- with family. Eating, laughing, fighting, dancing.
Read Dad's message. Cried.
Loved my birthday.
Avoid yaar
People do perceive me as someone who's open to a lot of ideas, a lot of fun, and heck loads of nonsense. None of which is untrue. I like the more-than-usual jabber. I love talking about stuff, more than any physical activity. I could talk for hours. Hell, I do.
But something yesterday made me realised how many things I WASN'T comfortable discussing. With anyone.
One of them stands out.
My religious perspective- Or the lack of it. I am not comfortable discussing religion. The stories in it, yes. But just as the usual fellow gets slightly squirmy the moment someone mentions to him that I am an atheist (by birth and by choice), I feel like an oddity when someone enunciates the converse. Someone I barely know, but have come to be extremely fond of, for the first time observed my reaction to keeping an idol of a deity in the fest lab. I really have no idea of how he came about it(unless he's been told previously of course, but I highly doubt that because of the tone he said what he did in), but he looked at me for a second and asked, "You don't believe in God, do you?". Now that's a first, someone observing it. Others have to be told. Kudos to his observation.
My first reaction to that, was "No, I don't" followed almost immediately by "No offense, though". I wonder why I did that. Was I seeking to stop the subject because it'd have made the others uncomfortable, sitting in a room with someone who has a radical viewpoint about something, or was it because I'd feel terribly up-close and exposed by talking about something that's such a personal choice?
I do believe it was the latter.
I'm an objective person- I don't know what makes me that confident, but I am. Almost Nomadic- with opinion, friends, incidents. I move on really fast. So it is very necessary for me to have a clean slate every next hour, every next conversation. Religion stagnates my thoughts. I cannot deny that sometimes, and as pseudo-Ruskin-Bond that it sounds, when I am looking closely as a peacock's feather, or the circle symmetry of multipetalled flowers, that I wonder of a mind greather than nature has gone into its making. But at the same time, it is the force of the waters, the pull of gravity and the vastness of the planets that makes me remember how strong our sciences are. How beautiful the world is, how old it is, and how little credit we give nature for being the way it is.
I also look at religion as something man has created to cover up his faults. His shortcomings and his inability to be as spontaneous as nature and science has forced him to say, "Tough luck" or "It was never meant to be" or "if He didn't wish it, it wouldn't happen". That's my perception, and I think discussing it, or debating over it anywhere, on this site or any other, even face to face, is as offensive as challenging your beliefs (if you're religious). I don't like to be proved wrong, no one does. And this is a topic that is a little closer than you'd believe it to be, even if I'm so blatant about it. It's my idea of faith, not asking someone else to be in control of our lives, or expecting someone else to take charge of it, or even thanking someone else for what it is- but to keep trying, keep believing that the power that rests in the human mind and body is humungous enough to push us through the million years that we've been around in different forms. Often you'll find me staring down at my hands- that's when I'm either trying to muster the courage to do something I think needs my mind to gather all its faculties in, or I've just realised that I've accomplished a task that any person would've done less dedicatedly. It's an overwhelming feeling, knowing how you can create beauty.
Evolution fascinates me. Because it has reason. Of all the religion that I have heard, what only makes sense is the inferences and conclusions. Well, I'd suggest let us all follow them as laws, rules, mores- all of those. Ethics, even. But clubbing people together and claiming that my set of beliefs supercedes yours- it's sometimes as silly as street gang wars. Be nice to everyone, earn your money and name, have great holidays, do what you love, die in peace. What's anyone else got to do with it?
I have a lot of people saying, "but there are so many things science can't answer for us" in argument of my atheism and my support of science in the place of religion. As much as they have ground, I have nothing more to say to then than- your religion has been around a good thousand years- since there has been man, there has been religion. How long has science been around? How many things in the span of decades has it proved to be a matter of physics, and not of some unknown, intergalaxial force?
Something from Dan Brown's Angels & Demons just struck me- how the Chamberlain speaks of science. He talks of how we've broken down every incident to a piece of physics and now the number of things that have been so beautiful and jaw-dropping for so many years have been reduced to experiments in a science lab by the theorem that man pins it down with. In argument, I'd say that man needs to know. With every such experiment has come the realisation of how ignorant we really are. It sparks the scientist (the reasoners and the observers, not just the lab-coat-donning nerds) to believe more that nature has so much in store that no matter how far he goes, he's still an infiniti of knowledge from knowing everything.
It just struck me how hollow the theorem of religion, each claiming to be right, must be- if they're all different. We're living on the same planet, in the same country, breathing the same air. So if your God made this world one way, and someone else's the other, who gave in? Who wasn't powerful enough to stand out? Or maybe they coexisted as part of the same divine social circle.
I do find the topic of religion interesting, by the way- so long as it is not focussed on why I'm not keen on being in the group. I think the stories and the characters are etched so finely, like trying to be ideal characters in their own fashion. I'd suggest you watch the movie Raavan, with Bachchan Jr and the Mrs. No entertainment per se, but there's a strong perspective challenge it offers that makes you think, what if? I like stories, I like characters and I like the circumstances they find themselves in. I just don't find them perfect and believable if you tell me one walked on water and the other's head was chopped off, only to be replaced very successfully by an elephant's. As a child encouraged to be curious, my reaction for each of these was the 3-year old's version of "What the f**k?" I really do not know any Islamic stories, so I won't bring that up.
My mother made me recite complex Sanskrit verses as a kid. I do have some idea of Ramdas's Manaache Shlok as well. But that, she'd done to get my pronunciation right. I feel like I'm explaining myself here, which I hardly do, but it was more of a kindergarten lesson for me to not stumble over long-lettered words than any knowledge about religion.
I sometimes feel that people have a strange outlook about religion. In any scenario, when you're walking in a crowd, let's say, you come across a man with a long beard and a skull cap, you do a mental double-take and register- Okay, Islamic. Alright, their religion has a certain protocol that makes them physically stand out that way. But how many times do we go 'Okay, Hindu' when we're in the same crowd surrounded by people without the skull cap?
Why?
When I look at a person, I want to be able to think, 'Okay, moustached dude passed by me' or 'Okay, lady in nice top to the left'. It's blatant discrimination in our heads that we hypocritically refuse to accept we make. Alright, granted that some names have a very strong religious ring to them. But that's their significance. Very different from meaning. Why should that make it any different? Gulzar, Padma and Gloria are girls. But it comes easily for us to say- Muslim girl, Hindu girl and Christian girl.
Why?
Again, you may or may not agree. Perspective, I say.
Religion may have united people in thought, but I do believe it has distanced the world from being truly human. We're just mankind, after that.
But something yesterday made me realised how many things I WASN'T comfortable discussing. With anyone.
One of them stands out.
My religious perspective- Or the lack of it. I am not comfortable discussing religion. The stories in it, yes. But just as the usual fellow gets slightly squirmy the moment someone mentions to him that I am an atheist (by birth and by choice), I feel like an oddity when someone enunciates the converse. Someone I barely know, but have come to be extremely fond of, for the first time observed my reaction to keeping an idol of a deity in the fest lab. I really have no idea of how he came about it(unless he's been told previously of course, but I highly doubt that because of the tone he said what he did in), but he looked at me for a second and asked, "You don't believe in God, do you?". Now that's a first, someone observing it. Others have to be told. Kudos to his observation.
My first reaction to that, was "No, I don't" followed almost immediately by "No offense, though". I wonder why I did that. Was I seeking to stop the subject because it'd have made the others uncomfortable, sitting in a room with someone who has a radical viewpoint about something, or was it because I'd feel terribly up-close and exposed by talking about something that's such a personal choice?
I do believe it was the latter.
I'm an objective person- I don't know what makes me that confident, but I am. Almost Nomadic- with opinion, friends, incidents. I move on really fast. So it is very necessary for me to have a clean slate every next hour, every next conversation. Religion stagnates my thoughts. I cannot deny that sometimes, and as pseudo-Ruskin-Bond that it sounds, when I am looking closely as a peacock's feather, or the circle symmetry of multipetalled flowers, that I wonder of a mind greather than nature has gone into its making. But at the same time, it is the force of the waters, the pull of gravity and the vastness of the planets that makes me remember how strong our sciences are. How beautiful the world is, how old it is, and how little credit we give nature for being the way it is.
I also look at religion as something man has created to cover up his faults. His shortcomings and his inability to be as spontaneous as nature and science has forced him to say, "Tough luck" or "It was never meant to be" or "if He didn't wish it, it wouldn't happen". That's my perception, and I think discussing it, or debating over it anywhere, on this site or any other, even face to face, is as offensive as challenging your beliefs (if you're religious). I don't like to be proved wrong, no one does. And this is a topic that is a little closer than you'd believe it to be, even if I'm so blatant about it. It's my idea of faith, not asking someone else to be in control of our lives, or expecting someone else to take charge of it, or even thanking someone else for what it is- but to keep trying, keep believing that the power that rests in the human mind and body is humungous enough to push us through the million years that we've been around in different forms. Often you'll find me staring down at my hands- that's when I'm either trying to muster the courage to do something I think needs my mind to gather all its faculties in, or I've just realised that I've accomplished a task that any person would've done less dedicatedly. It's an overwhelming feeling, knowing how you can create beauty.
Evolution fascinates me. Because it has reason. Of all the religion that I have heard, what only makes sense is the inferences and conclusions. Well, I'd suggest let us all follow them as laws, rules, mores- all of those. Ethics, even. But clubbing people together and claiming that my set of beliefs supercedes yours- it's sometimes as silly as street gang wars. Be nice to everyone, earn your money and name, have great holidays, do what you love, die in peace. What's anyone else got to do with it?
I have a lot of people saying, "but there are so many things science can't answer for us" in argument of my atheism and my support of science in the place of religion. As much as they have ground, I have nothing more to say to then than- your religion has been around a good thousand years- since there has been man, there has been religion. How long has science been around? How many things in the span of decades has it proved to be a matter of physics, and not of some unknown, intergalaxial force?
Something from Dan Brown's Angels & Demons just struck me- how the Chamberlain speaks of science. He talks of how we've broken down every incident to a piece of physics and now the number of things that have been so beautiful and jaw-dropping for so many years have been reduced to experiments in a science lab by the theorem that man pins it down with. In argument, I'd say that man needs to know. With every such experiment has come the realisation of how ignorant we really are. It sparks the scientist (the reasoners and the observers, not just the lab-coat-donning nerds) to believe more that nature has so much in store that no matter how far he goes, he's still an infiniti of knowledge from knowing everything.
It just struck me how hollow the theorem of religion, each claiming to be right, must be- if they're all different. We're living on the same planet, in the same country, breathing the same air. So if your God made this world one way, and someone else's the other, who gave in? Who wasn't powerful enough to stand out? Or maybe they coexisted as part of the same divine social circle.
I do find the topic of religion interesting, by the way- so long as it is not focussed on why I'm not keen on being in the group. I think the stories and the characters are etched so finely, like trying to be ideal characters in their own fashion. I'd suggest you watch the movie Raavan, with Bachchan Jr and the Mrs. No entertainment per se, but there's a strong perspective challenge it offers that makes you think, what if? I like stories, I like characters and I like the circumstances they find themselves in. I just don't find them perfect and believable if you tell me one walked on water and the other's head was chopped off, only to be replaced very successfully by an elephant's. As a child encouraged to be curious, my reaction for each of these was the 3-year old's version of "What the f**k?" I really do not know any Islamic stories, so I won't bring that up.
My mother made me recite complex Sanskrit verses as a kid. I do have some idea of Ramdas's Manaache Shlok as well. But that, she'd done to get my pronunciation right. I feel like I'm explaining myself here, which I hardly do, but it was more of a kindergarten lesson for me to not stumble over long-lettered words than any knowledge about religion.
I sometimes feel that people have a strange outlook about religion. In any scenario, when you're walking in a crowd, let's say, you come across a man with a long beard and a skull cap, you do a mental double-take and register- Okay, Islamic. Alright, their religion has a certain protocol that makes them physically stand out that way. But how many times do we go 'Okay, Hindu' when we're in the same crowd surrounded by people without the skull cap?
Why?
When I look at a person, I want to be able to think, 'Okay, moustached dude passed by me' or 'Okay, lady in nice top to the left'. It's blatant discrimination in our heads that we hypocritically refuse to accept we make. Alright, granted that some names have a very strong religious ring to them. But that's their significance. Very different from meaning. Why should that make it any different? Gulzar, Padma and Gloria are girls. But it comes easily for us to say- Muslim girl, Hindu girl and Christian girl.
Why?
Again, you may or may not agree. Perspective, I say.
Religion may have united people in thought, but I do believe it has distanced the world from being truly human. We're just mankind, after that.
Holi, who?
It's nearing Holi, my 'favourite' time of the year. You know this time's gonna be a little on the dull side. It's all because, well- I don't see the point of it.
1. You're wasting a lotta water. For getting dirty.
2. The building's just been done up and it really looks pretty these days. Why spoil it?
3. There's no space for the pyre. Unless you count the- well...NO space!
4. I just don't wanna play!
AAAAAARGH!
Bored to death. Not been studying. Day dreaming (no, not complaining about that!), but hello! Where's the zing gone? Or maybe it dragged off with the events of last summer. No repetitions needed, right?
So, getting on with errr...'life'(?), I'm having a pretty good time. Sheeeesh, funny saying that in a lousy mood.
My FYBMM looks like it finally is getting a common base, and my suicide bomber rage about having everything to do with it is paying. I hate people who swear at me. Inferior Protozoans.
I am so out of love right now. I'm tired of link-ups, and real gymbos (male bimbos, for those in the dark), Like, here's a list of what I need in a guy:
a. Sense
b. Courtesy
c. Insanity
d. Superior intelligence than saying, "OK, so what else?" in a conversation. Good linguistic skills ('anyway'- not 'anyways', a general non-use of 'whatever', no making up sentences like 'shak Bhaaji jhagda jhagdi')
e. Some conversational skills
f. Great dance moves
g. Good music sense
h. A SENSE OF HUMOUR!( though I think that comes tagged along with intelligence)
i. Maturity
j. Chivalry
k. Patience, because I have none these days.
l. Time
m. GREAT listening skills.
n. An appetite.
o. No time limits
p. Honesty
q. A temper when his patience limits are crossed.
r. Ability to think rationally.
s. Well-read
t. Kindness
u. Ability to surprise
v. Telepathy
w. A good laugh
x. A great handshake- the palm-to-palm one. Not the touch-my-finger-you-contaminated-organism one.
y. No compulsive religiousness ('WHY don't you believe in God yaar?'- because I don't! Don't interfere with reasonable choices I've already made!).
z. Writer and one with writer's blocks!
And will a guy like this make my Holi happy? NO! Because if one just suddenly appears from nowhere, and say 'Yoohoo! I'm the one!', I'm gonna be so cynical, I'll lock myself up in my room and write more blogs.
I give myself the creeps, I tell you.
But well, like Chacko said, "Love Madness Hope Infinite Joy"
I live on all these.
Happy Holi, I guess.
1. You're wasting a lotta water. For getting dirty.
2. The building's just been done up and it really looks pretty these days. Why spoil it?
3. There's no space for the pyre. Unless you count the- well...NO space!
4. I just don't wanna play!
AAAAAARGH!
Bored to death. Not been studying. Day dreaming (no, not complaining about that!), but hello! Where's the zing gone? Or maybe it dragged off with the events of last summer. No repetitions needed, right?
So, getting on with errr...'life'(?), I'm having a pretty good time. Sheeeesh, funny saying that in a lousy mood.
My FYBMM looks like it finally is getting a common base, and my suicide bomber rage about having everything to do with it is paying. I hate people who swear at me. Inferior Protozoans.
I am so out of love right now. I'm tired of link-ups, and real gymbos (male bimbos, for those in the dark), Like, here's a list of what I need in a guy:
a. Sense
b. Courtesy
c. Insanity
d. Superior intelligence than saying, "OK, so what else?" in a conversation. Good linguistic skills ('anyway'- not 'anyways', a general non-use of 'whatever', no making up sentences like 'shak Bhaaji jhagda jhagdi')
e. Some conversational skills
f. Great dance moves
g. Good music sense
h. A SENSE OF HUMOUR!( though I think that comes tagged along with intelligence)
i. Maturity
j. Chivalry
k. Patience, because I have none these days.
l. Time
m. GREAT listening skills.
n. An appetite.
o. No time limits
p. Honesty
q. A temper when his patience limits are crossed.
r. Ability to think rationally.
s. Well-read
t. Kindness
u. Ability to surprise
v. Telepathy
w. A good laugh
x. A great handshake- the palm-to-palm one. Not the touch-my-finger-you-contaminated-organism one.
y. No compulsive religiousness ('WHY don't you believe in God yaar?'- because I don't! Don't interfere with reasonable choices I've already made!).
z. Writer and one with writer's blocks!
And will a guy like this make my Holi happy? NO! Because if one just suddenly appears from nowhere, and say 'Yoohoo! I'm the one!', I'm gonna be so cynical, I'll lock myself up in my room and write more blogs.
I give myself the creeps, I tell you.
But well, like Chacko said, "Love Madness Hope Infinite Joy"
I live on all these.
Happy Holi, I guess.
And here I go again.
Somewhere deep inside I know this will never work, but there’s still this tug that says that maybe I shouldn’t give up that easily. Can I love anyone more? I can’t tell. But it’s not easy to deny that the pining doesn’t stop, the ache doesn’t diminish. The beauty is that I know he knows, or he’s playing around. I’m his friend; he’s something like that Forbidden Fruit. So irresistibly in my face. He makes me want to shut up and listen, while he talks and laughs. He makes me want to change everything about me, and yet make me feel something like complete. He’s everything I want, and I don’t know whether I should tell him that. I need to stop stuffing myself of him, and start looking at life beyond him…which is the way it will turn out.
He’s a dream personified, and I’m addicted to dreaming.
I’m still scared of the ‘L’ word…
I think that if I say it is, then I’ll never be able to move on…
It’s annoying, yes- but I’m sure there’s a little comfort I get from the idea that there’s more I can push me to.
He’s a dream personified, and I’m addicted to dreaming.
I’m still scared of the ‘L’ word…
I think that if I say it is, then I’ll never be able to move on…
It’s annoying, yes- but I’m sure there’s a little comfort I get from the idea that there’s more I can push me to.
Whooopeee New Year!!
Got the idea from Chris' blog. Thanks again.:)
Resolutions are a part of New Year celebrations- you have them once in a high state, and then move on like nothing happened.
This time, I'm gonna stick to mine, if not for determination's sake, then for the sake of getting a boyfriend! Of my choice!!
1. Lose 5 kilos a month, that should get me to human dimensions by my birthday. So that also means:
a. No chocolate (done).
b. No cheese.
c. No baahar ka khaana
d. Gym.
e. Running.
2. Get a boyfriend by July!...enough time to lose weight, start learning to drive, flirt (which I am as good as an antelope with humans). I'm 18, damn you! My mum had probably already decided to get married at this age!
3. Get my driver's license. Which will be done tomorrow. Promise.
4. Get my passport done. Which will also be done by the 5th. A birthday gift to my aunt who has been nagging me, and is even ready to bribe people so that I get my work done hassle-free!
5. Publish at least 2 more articles in newspapers. So that'd mean internship. That'd be a tough one, with publishers having stopped recruitment. I'll let you know when the stuff's published.
6. Grow my hair back. No hair cut. Let it grow junglee till December.
7. Stand first in class. Ankit, you watch out. My projects are going to be something people love watching.
8. Be popular in at least one city college, as an essay writer who doesn't let anyone else win. Big bad girl. Grrrr...
9. Finish reading Word Power. I was supposed to do that long back, but it's better late than never. This should actually be slotted into quarterly goals.
10. Save cash. For buying more Colaba stuff. And movies.
11. Movies only on Tuesdays, unless someone's treating me.
12. No ragging Aakash- I started that today. He stared at me like I was giving away my house to an Orissa victim. The class said, for once in unison, "Yeah right".
13. Not attack people when it comes to arguments, give them breathing space.
14. Paint my wall.
Resolutions are a part of New Year celebrations- you have them once in a high state, and then move on like nothing happened.
This time, I'm gonna stick to mine, if not for determination's sake, then for the sake of getting a boyfriend! Of my choice!!
1. Lose 5 kilos a month, that should get me to human dimensions by my birthday. So that also means:
a. No chocolate (done).
b. No cheese.
c. No baahar ka khaana
d. Gym.
e. Running.
2. Get a boyfriend by July!...enough time to lose weight, start learning to drive, flirt (which I am as good as an antelope with humans). I'm 18, damn you! My mum had probably already decided to get married at this age!
3. Get my driver's license. Which will be done tomorrow. Promise.
4. Get my passport done. Which will also be done by the 5th. A birthday gift to my aunt who has been nagging me, and is even ready to bribe people so that I get my work done hassle-free!
5. Publish at least 2 more articles in newspapers. So that'd mean internship. That'd be a tough one, with publishers having stopped recruitment. I'll let you know when the stuff's published.
6. Grow my hair back. No hair cut. Let it grow junglee till December.
7. Stand first in class. Ankit, you watch out. My projects are going to be something people love watching.
8. Be popular in at least one city college, as an essay writer who doesn't let anyone else win. Big bad girl. Grrrr...
9. Finish reading Word Power. I was supposed to do that long back, but it's better late than never. This should actually be slotted into quarterly goals.
10. Save cash. For buying more Colaba stuff. And movies.
11. Movies only on Tuesdays, unless someone's treating me.
12. No ragging Aakash- I started that today. He stared at me like I was giving away my house to an Orissa victim. The class said, for once in unison, "Yeah right".
13. Not attack people when it comes to arguments, give them breathing space.
14. Paint my wall.
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.
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.
Blank
Sometimes you want to close your eyes and see nothing.
It isn't really the blackest of your days, but your senses fail you. Nothing seems to be right, though it's all correct. The complete opposite of those days when everything seems to go wonky in the eyes of the world but you know it'll be okay. Not one of those days, today. Worked hard, that's it. People smiled at what I wrote. Okay. Laughed at my jokes. Ha ha ha. So what's new, or different?
Politically, I'm appreciated. But I really haven't found my real company where I'm hooding nowadays. Like school time when I had Vishal, he made me rack my brains till they were drenched of thought. Or Pushkar in junior college, intelligent debates. Or Collin, subconscious eyeopener with the right terms for everything.
Or Manasi, who keeps me on my toes waiting to catch up with something that'll quench my thirst for criticism.
I love my festival, but it doesn't give me the adrenalin drive. I'm in dire need of competition, or spark'll be stomped off.
I'm wrenching open the eyelids, waiting for light to fall on the retina. But That's compromise. Can't fiery inspiration come without dropping expectations?
I'm done for the day, but open for someone to shake me out of my elongated snooze.
It isn't really the blackest of your days, but your senses fail you. Nothing seems to be right, though it's all correct. The complete opposite of those days when everything seems to go wonky in the eyes of the world but you know it'll be okay. Not one of those days, today. Worked hard, that's it. People smiled at what I wrote. Okay. Laughed at my jokes. Ha ha ha. So what's new, or different?
Politically, I'm appreciated. But I really haven't found my real company where I'm hooding nowadays. Like school time when I had Vishal, he made me rack my brains till they were drenched of thought. Or Pushkar in junior college, intelligent debates. Or Collin, subconscious eyeopener with the right terms for everything.
Or Manasi, who keeps me on my toes waiting to catch up with something that'll quench my thirst for criticism.
I love my festival, but it doesn't give me the adrenalin drive. I'm in dire need of competition, or spark'll be stomped off.
I'm wrenching open the eyelids, waiting for light to fall on the retina. But That's compromise. Can't fiery inspiration come without dropping expectations?
I'm done for the day, but open for someone to shake me out of my elongated snooze.
My college!!
Hey. Yeah, addicted. Yes, better, thanks. No, it'll take time to be normal. Yeah, loving college. Yeah, we meet pretty often.
Hello to my new world. As Hormazd very cleanly puts it, I've lost my 'asking-out' virginity. I've come to realize how much I obsess about something, which isn't all that trivial either. But still, how much am I gonna gloat in self-pity and the thought that I'm never gonna move on? Hell, I will.
I can't not think about it, you know; five years isn't all that easy a while to forget, specially if they cover all your teenage. So here I am, trying hard to not talk about it, and as i read what I have written till yet, it's all about it. Filthy hypocrite. For some reason, I always think 'hypocrite' must've been a Greek philosopher. Like Socrates. Aaaargh, retard.
Life currently revolves around my bedroom, the FYBMM classroom, the SYBMM classroom on the 4th floor, the canteen, and the 339. One bus I don't think I'll be spending a day without for a very long time now.
Anyway, so I'm on the dramatics troupe for my college (nautanki saali), and my attendance is gonna be taken care off. My seniors are the most awesome people I've met- they breathe their college-life. Super-high energy levels. My classmates are superb too. Starting with a hyperactive CR Hyper, who wants to do everything! His co-CR Leakage, who's more laidback and cautious. Then there's the chick gang who's totally girly giggly of sorts- Chiquitita who's totally cute, Fake always running around and all chatty, K-fan who's a boy trapped in a girl! Giggle-talent box, Namesake who's a total social worker of sorts!...And heck loadsa people.
Then the ladka log- Bossy, who's acting skills are killing cool..mimicry and all! Jerry who is subtly the funniest fellow I've met. Issmile who just smiles at everything! Zebra who's random hardly decipherable talk is the most creative I've learnt. Here's a sample: He was asked to abuse MumbaiMirror, he says "You'll get pupped by a chimpanzee!".
And to understand what Zebra says, there's the totally indispensable MumbaiMirror. He's (MumbaiMirror here) a part of the I'm-a-guy-I-don't-need-Harry-Potter brigade.
My opinions may change over the next few months, but let's keep them this way for the sake of recording how I am about my college people 2 weeks into the beginning of a brand new life.
But moving on, like I said, isn't all that easy, specially when you live within 20metres of each other, SMS each other stupid forwards every night, and bump into each other everyday in the canteen. The other day I was sitting totally peacefully with my friends, when suddenly the table next to us suddenly screams his name, I jump 2 feet into the air, and no one notices. He's entered, and sits across his girlfriend. He knows I'm there, and he seems a little awkward to me. She puts out her hand between his hands, and trust me, if I ever wanted to kill anyone for touching anyone else, I'd have dome it. I impulsively looked away, but I got this awkward feeling he did not hold her hand. My own jealousy makes me sick. She kept talking in animated gestures, and he kept laughing, and I kept "staring" into space. If space meant my sambaar. Then I decided I should let him know I'm there. So I gave him a missed call. He looked up, he knew where I was sitting, and did one of those 'I'm-in-public-can't-wave-too-obviously' waves. I gave it right back at him, and then didn't look at him till he said 'Chal see you later' when I had to leave.
I don't know what I'm playing at. But hello, my life rocks. I'm making the best of my time. And if he's to be involved, so be it.
Hello to my new world. As Hormazd very cleanly puts it, I've lost my 'asking-out' virginity. I've come to realize how much I obsess about something, which isn't all that trivial either. But still, how much am I gonna gloat in self-pity and the thought that I'm never gonna move on? Hell, I will.
I can't not think about it, you know; five years isn't all that easy a while to forget, specially if they cover all your teenage. So here I am, trying hard to not talk about it, and as i read what I have written till yet, it's all about it. Filthy hypocrite. For some reason, I always think 'hypocrite' must've been a Greek philosopher. Like Socrates. Aaaargh, retard.
Life currently revolves around my bedroom, the FYBMM classroom, the SYBMM classroom on the 4th floor, the canteen, and the 339. One bus I don't think I'll be spending a day without for a very long time now.
Anyway, so I'm on the dramatics troupe for my college (nautanki saali), and my attendance is gonna be taken care off. My seniors are the most awesome people I've met- they breathe their college-life. Super-high energy levels. My classmates are superb too. Starting with a hyperactive CR Hyper, who wants to do everything! His co-CR Leakage, who's more laidback and cautious. Then there's the chick gang who's totally girly giggly of sorts- Chiquitita who's totally cute, Fake always running around and all chatty, K-fan who's a boy trapped in a girl! Giggle-talent box, Namesake who's a total social worker of sorts!...And heck loadsa people.
Then the ladka log- Bossy, who's acting skills are killing cool..mimicry and all! Jerry who is subtly the funniest fellow I've met. Issmile who just smiles at everything! Zebra who's random hardly decipherable talk is the most creative I've learnt. Here's a sample: He was asked to abuse MumbaiMirror, he says "You'll get pupped by a chimpanzee!".
And to understand what Zebra says, there's the totally indispensable MumbaiMirror. He's (MumbaiMirror here) a part of the I'm-a-guy-I-don't-need-Harry-Potter brigade.
My opinions may change over the next few months, but let's keep them this way for the sake of recording how I am about my college people 2 weeks into the beginning of a brand new life.
But moving on, like I said, isn't all that easy, specially when you live within 20metres of each other, SMS each other stupid forwards every night, and bump into each other everyday in the canteen. The other day I was sitting totally peacefully with my friends, when suddenly the table next to us suddenly screams his name, I jump 2 feet into the air, and no one notices. He's entered, and sits across his girlfriend. He knows I'm there, and he seems a little awkward to me. She puts out her hand between his hands, and trust me, if I ever wanted to kill anyone for touching anyone else, I'd have dome it. I impulsively looked away, but I got this awkward feeling he did not hold her hand. My own jealousy makes me sick. She kept talking in animated gestures, and he kept laughing, and I kept "staring" into space. If space meant my sambaar. Then I decided I should let him know I'm there. So I gave him a missed call. He looked up, he knew where I was sitting, and did one of those 'I'm-in-public-can't-wave-too-obviously' waves. I gave it right back at him, and then didn't look at him till he said 'Chal see you later' when I had to leave.
I don't know what I'm playing at. But hello, my life rocks. I'm making the best of my time. And if he's to be involved, so be it.
Stupid little update
"Tum Ho Gham Ko Chupaye
Main Hoon Sar Ko Jhukaye
Tum Bhi Chup Ho
Main Bho Chup Hoon
Kaun Kise Samjhaye
Ab Dooriyan Itni Hain To
Milna Yahan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Ab Dooriyan Itni Hain To
Milna Yahan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Tu Vekh Tai Lai Aj Raj Ke
Apne Sariyan Nu
Cheti Apne Nahi Mil De
Ja Banno Pave Khushiyan Te Dil Dariyan Tu
Pave Armaan Sab Dil De
Sach Hai Ke Dil To Dukha Hai
Hamne Magar Socha Hai
Dil Ko Hai Gham Kyon
Aankh Hai Nam Kyon
Hona Hi Tha Jo Hua Hai
Us Baat Ko Jaane Bhi Do
Jiska Nishaan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Har Pal Yahan Je Bhar Jiyo
Jo Hai Sama Kal Ho Naa Ho"
Okay, I admit. I do write super-mushy things. But this is more to give you an idea of what the situation was like 3 days after the calamity, when we were sub-normal. It was guilt-cum-hurt-cum-apology, for both of us. I wonder why, though. Nothing was technically our fault. Things happen. Deal with it. Life sucks sometimes, doesn't mean you stop living.
Mum wants me to scrape coconuts, gotta rush.
Main Hoon Sar Ko Jhukaye
Tum Bhi Chup Ho
Main Bho Chup Hoon
Kaun Kise Samjhaye
Ab Dooriyan Itni Hain To
Milna Yahan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Ab Dooriyan Itni Hain To
Milna Yahan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Tu Vekh Tai Lai Aj Raj Ke
Apne Sariyan Nu
Cheti Apne Nahi Mil De
Ja Banno Pave Khushiyan Te Dil Dariyan Tu
Pave Armaan Sab Dil De
Sach Hai Ke Dil To Dukha Hai
Hamne Magar Socha Hai
Dil Ko Hai Gham Kyon
Aankh Hai Nam Kyon
Hona Hi Tha Jo Hua Hai
Us Baat Ko Jaane Bhi Do
Jiska Nishaan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Har Pal Yahan Je Bhar Jiyo
Jo Hai Sama Kal Ho Naa Ho"
Okay, I admit. I do write super-mushy things. But this is more to give you an idea of what the situation was like 3 days after the calamity, when we were sub-normal. It was guilt-cum-hurt-cum-apology, for both of us. I wonder why, though. Nothing was technically our fault. Things happen. Deal with it. Life sucks sometimes, doesn't mean you stop living.
Mum wants me to scrape coconuts, gotta rush.
The thing that we had going
The hellos to all those who've been wondering where the nag's gone. She was finally busy attending college!! It feels so good to be back to the old routine of having something other than another day at home to look forward to after 3 months spent that way.
Anyway, as I write this, I'm not in such a great mood after all. Reason being only one totally uncomplicated one: Love-aria!
It doesn't matter confessing to it here, considering the guy concerned knows himself now, but I do wish everything were different right now. We're back to being friends and all laughing around and all, but there come these pangs of missing him. In every sense of the term. When I miss a person, I get very restless, and cranky. Here, I'm missing him being actually, physically present, talking rubbish, making me laugh with his queer wisecracks, having that pensive look for a fraction of a second. That's the usual stuff. Then I realised what else I missed about him.
It's very primitive, but I have a thing with smells, just the way I have a thing with numbers: I identify smells to places, incidents and people. They don't have to be a particular smell, like how can one describe a smell anyway? It's the ideas that come along, you relate stories and memories to smells. It's the feeling it gives you.
I wouldn't know what he smells of, but the scent reminds me of mangoes, and rain. And new notebooks, new shoes. It's a combination of all my favourite smells. It's a smell that reminds me of sitting late on the benches talking about people and schools. Carrom powder to an extent. It reminds me of knees touching, playing footsie when no one can notice, kicking each other and the expression on everyone else's face when where everything is normal and quiet, we suddenly start laughing because of something only both of us find funny.
He smells of a guy grown up, and ready to do what it takes to wipe the person he likes off her feet. The idea of which gives me butterflies the size of dinosaurs in my stomach.
And that's it. I wonder how long it will take me to get out of this, but I'll take my time anyway. Adios.
Anyway, as I write this, I'm not in such a great mood after all. Reason being only one totally uncomplicated one: Love-aria!
It doesn't matter confessing to it here, considering the guy concerned knows himself now, but I do wish everything were different right now. We're back to being friends and all laughing around and all, but there come these pangs of missing him. In every sense of the term. When I miss a person, I get very restless, and cranky. Here, I'm missing him being actually, physically present, talking rubbish, making me laugh with his queer wisecracks, having that pensive look for a fraction of a second. That's the usual stuff. Then I realised what else I missed about him.
It's very primitive, but I have a thing with smells, just the way I have a thing with numbers: I identify smells to places, incidents and people. They don't have to be a particular smell, like how can one describe a smell anyway? It's the ideas that come along, you relate stories and memories to smells. It's the feeling it gives you.
I wouldn't know what he smells of, but the scent reminds me of mangoes, and rain. And new notebooks, new shoes. It's a combination of all my favourite smells. It's a smell that reminds me of sitting late on the benches talking about people and schools. Carrom powder to an extent. It reminds me of knees touching, playing footsie when no one can notice, kicking each other and the expression on everyone else's face when where everything is normal and quiet, we suddenly start laughing because of something only both of us find funny.
He smells of a guy grown up, and ready to do what it takes to wipe the person he likes off her feet. The idea of which gives me butterflies the size of dinosaurs in my stomach.
And that's it. I wonder how long it will take me to get out of this, but I'll take my time anyway. Adios.
The four rolling months,
Third consecutive day of intensive blogging. Yeah I am addicted.
This is the last day of my summer vacation, and like everone so kindly reminds me time and again, the last day of the last and longest vacation for a very long time now. So here's a list of things I thought I'd land up doing and posted at the beginning of the summer.
A lot of things done and not, have a look at the original post here.
1. Fell left out and alone.: First thing that usually happens to me, and this time, it didn't! Thanks to Manasi, Shri, Deepa, Vivek, Clarence, Collin and Hormazd being around whenever I needed them, I've had the best vacation ever. We're officially a gang!
2. Get excited thanks to some holidaying hopes, and then get them crushed.: Something my mother excels at. I was promised a 4 day holiday at Mahabaleshwar, which (tadaa!) didn't happen, and here I am. Though the travelling was compensated by awesome outings in Mumbai, thanks to Manasi and the rest of the gang.
3. Fall in love (this can wait. this vacation, i've had a very nasty bout of that).:But you know me. It wasn't falling in love, it was falling hell lot deeper into love. Check this, and this and even this..and this, which will make minimum sense, but was written in the same mood. Heartbreaks happen; live with them or die.
4. Have some major fall-outs with friends: Not all that major, but I really didn't keep in sincere touch with the college lot. The rest have been woven into my daily life. The building lot, the classes lot, and by the end of the vacation, even the school lot. Of course one gang from school I totally have no clue about, but they don't matter anyway.
5. Get into trouble because of food (yepo, and no other specimen of my species shows this trait).: Yeah, did that too.It so happens that I've lost only 5 kilos in 4 months, and my mother is out with a butcher's knife to make me realise what trouble I'm asking for when I keep binging. Ooh I like the word 'binging', like Chandler 'Bing'ing. Okay, plain stupid.
6. Strengthen some bonds (friends,hair et cetera): Yeah, to risk being overtly repetitive, friends have just got a whole lot closer. But I won't say the same about my hair. I've had a bad hair fortnight, if something like that exists. Read this, for details.
7. Coax dad into buying me a new cellphone (but i'm happy with this one, may try iPod now): They rendered my cellphone useless. The battery won't charge. The earphones won't work. All because some idiotic panel went super-sensitive and decided to ditch me for a summer I so needed the music through. But trouble started sometime in later June, so not much of a loss. Though I do think the 'coaxing Dad' part's about to start.
8. Smile and blush. and blush myself silly. and still smile.: Happened alright, again, refer to the lovey-dovey entries, tired of providing hyperlinks to the same thing. Places I won't ever forget: Worli sea-face, Juhu, my bedroom (dude, there was a whole lot of us doing nothing immoral, if you must know!).
9. Fall sick...the 'flu thing.: yeah just once, but it was there. Making its mighty presence being felt for a total of 4 days. Yay. Seriously.
10. Learn nothing.: Naah, I learnt a huge number of songs, lessons in falling in love, some good dance, how to write articles- both of which you could read about here. I'm a grown-up girl now. And trust me, I still have a lot to learn.
I'm content. And happy. More content though. Dedicating the last lines to
1. The person without whom a summer like this was way down the impossible lane than ever, and thanks for everything, specially for saying things at the right time: "Time heals all wounds."
2. The one person who makes me argue with myself, and talk to myself, and wonder if I really am alright. It's been the most used line in the past 3 months. Here's to you, for saying things the way you say them: "It isn't you...it's me."
This is the last day of my summer vacation, and like everone so kindly reminds me time and again, the last day of the last and longest vacation for a very long time now. So here's a list of things I thought I'd land up doing and posted at the beginning of the summer.
A lot of things done and not, have a look at the original post here.
1. Fell left out and alone.: First thing that usually happens to me, and this time, it didn't! Thanks to Manasi, Shri, Deepa, Vivek, Clarence, Collin and Hormazd being around whenever I needed them, I've had the best vacation ever. We're officially a gang!
2. Get excited thanks to some holidaying hopes, and then get them crushed.: Something my mother excels at. I was promised a 4 day holiday at Mahabaleshwar, which (tadaa!) didn't happen, and here I am. Though the travelling was compensated by awesome outings in Mumbai, thanks to Manasi and the rest of the gang.
3. Fall in love (this can wait. this vacation, i've had a very nasty bout of that).:But you know me. It wasn't falling in love, it was falling hell lot deeper into love. Check this, and this and even this..and this, which will make minimum sense, but was written in the same mood. Heartbreaks happen; live with them or die.
4. Have some major fall-outs with friends: Not all that major, but I really didn't keep in sincere touch with the college lot. The rest have been woven into my daily life. The building lot, the classes lot, and by the end of the vacation, even the school lot. Of course one gang from school I totally have no clue about, but they don't matter anyway.
5. Get into trouble because of food (yepo, and no other specimen of my species shows this trait).: Yeah, did that too.It so happens that I've lost only 5 kilos in 4 months, and my mother is out with a butcher's knife to make me realise what trouble I'm asking for when I keep binging. Ooh I like the word 'binging', like Chandler 'Bing'ing. Okay, plain stupid.
6. Strengthen some bonds (friends,hair et cetera): Yeah, to risk being overtly repetitive, friends have just got a whole lot closer. But I won't say the same about my hair. I've had a bad hair fortnight, if something like that exists. Read this, for details.
7. Coax dad into buying me a new cellphone (but i'm happy with this one, may try iPod now): They rendered my cellphone useless. The battery won't charge. The earphones won't work. All because some idiotic panel went super-sensitive and decided to ditch me for a summer I so needed the music through. But trouble started sometime in later June, so not much of a loss. Though I do think the 'coaxing Dad' part's about to start.
8. Smile and blush. and blush myself silly. and still smile.: Happened alright, again, refer to the lovey-dovey entries, tired of providing hyperlinks to the same thing. Places I won't ever forget: Worli sea-face, Juhu, my bedroom (dude, there was a whole lot of us doing nothing immoral, if you must know!).
9. Fall sick...the 'flu thing.: yeah just once, but it was there. Making its mighty presence being felt for a total of 4 days. Yay. Seriously.
10. Learn nothing.: Naah, I learnt a huge number of songs, lessons in falling in love, some good dance, how to write articles- both of which you could read about here. I'm a grown-up girl now. And trust me, I still have a lot to learn.
I'm content. And happy. More content though. Dedicating the last lines to
1. The person without whom a summer like this was way down the impossible lane than ever, and thanks for everything, specially for saying things at the right time: "Time heals all wounds."
2. The one person who makes me argue with myself, and talk to myself, and wonder if I really am alright. It's been the most used line in the past 3 months. Here's to you, for saying things the way you say them: "It isn't you...it's me."
Crashing
It's official: forbidden timings are the ones where I'm most creative. I didn't have any mad urge to write since 10pm. Dude, here's something I really wanted to talk about, and taking full advantage of the fact that the person it concerns isn't a reader in any way (no, literate, but not interested in reading), I'm using this page liberally as my diary, which, under saner and less dozed conditions I wouldn't have.
So, the reason "Hell's painted itself pink" (to quote Nutee), is that I am somewhere in like-going-to-love stage. It's the guy who
Aug '03:I didn't want to fall for
Mar '04:fell for
Dec '05:fell out of
Jun '06:hated
Jan '07:scorned
Jul '07:pitied
Dec '07:considered (like what the hell is that, anyway?)
Jan '08:tried to ignore
Feb '08:didn't want to fall for
Mar '08:(tadaa!) fell for.
That's how tightly he was packed into my schedule. Like there are these characters you so know your life would be better without. But nay, you just want the pain to start, the wound to burn. Like Dettol down those knee bruises, geddit?
To quote a few lines from a song long forgotten by public memory, but thoroughly etched in my mind as something that vividly describes how I usually feel:
"Abhi Koi Dil Main Jashn Hua Hain
Abhi Koi Taza Zakhm Mila Hain
Abhi Khamoshi Bhi Khamosh Si Hain
Ke Koi Mujhko Soch Raha Hain"
I am a happy girl, all the time, I can't go frowning all day long. Yeah life has its share of awful days, but I'm the type, if there is a type, who doesn't really care. It's the smile on my own face that keeps me insanely happy. It's the maddening will to laugh at myself. I am a happy girl, because I know that happy lies only where you can see it. No one other than yourself can keep you happy.
But there are these times, like once a month, when I take things to heart. When I want to differ from the 'I'm-always-thinking-and-measured-and-calm' sorts, who has her arrogant obstinacy numero uno on priorities. Like, I think with my heart. I want to be Like theother girls around me, the painful, crazy want of attention, and maybe, even love.
Here's yet another secret. I'm scared of that word 'love', like, shit scared of using it. I don't think anyone will ever fall in love, at least now. At least with me. Stupid, childish complex, I know. But it's there, nothing doing. My close friends who know what's in my head try to get me speak the word; but I can't. It's not love, I know it. May be that I'm not giving my feelings the respect they deserve, the credit for maturity they have gained. May be that I still think I'm frivolous. And fickle. The part where you are ready to give up anything for someone else, and not ask something in return comes to me all too easily since a long time now. When I say I choose my friends, I mean it. Not a single betrayal, any sign of distrust, or any cracks. I don't even give the person an opportunity to do that. So if at all I'm not friends with anyone anymore, it's because we've just fizzed out. I choose my friends so that I know what I have asked for. So 'sacrifice', as so many like to put it, is no problem.
This guy happened on such a day. I allowed him a crack; he dug a tunnel. Given a choice, I'd have kept my distance those days, and not given on the vibe that it may be time to start being friends now. Which we never were. So here I'm faced with a sample where I feel like the one being controlled, and the other one is that arrogant brat who, as my closest friend puts it, "is just unapologetic about what he is. A case of confident take me as I am or leave me". What bewildered me all this while, is what makes him that way. The kind who can hold your gaze for just long enough till it's about to reach the friend's warm timeline, and lets go before that moment. Why he still can't qualify as my friend. What makes him any different from the other guys I have liked.
The thing is, I know what's lined up for me next. I can feel it. It's heartbreak. Cold and terrible. It's the kinda pain you can't describe. If you knew me anywhere personally, I hate not having a reason for something. Headaches, Maths solutions, weather forecasts, mythology. I need a reason to stop the questions in the brain. So when hurt comes, it's not just what they call heart, the pain is in the pit of the stomach for starters, but after that it's in every corpuscle, every cell. It doesn't spare you anything. It's just something that doesn't have a sound reason.
A little bit of reasoning could've prevented the situation totally. Had I not tried to close my brains that day and allow the stupid cardio-maniac to work out things for me, I'd have been less preoccupied, more attentive, less moody, more involved.
I keep saying stupid things these days, he thinks I'm drunk all the while. Giggling goes on for hours, little spurts of irrelevant and unnecessary giggles don't stop. I don't know if it's just me, but we're closer now. Physically? Perhaps. Emotionally? I am.
There are two very basic issues I have with falling for this fellow.
1. He's never going to fall for me, which is kinda a non-issue, as I really don't expect anyone to. It's their life, what I feel for them is pretty much the last of their worries. Poeple don't have to like those who feel different for them. Moreover, I'm tending to ugly to look at, and there's hardly much beyond that guys consider. At least the kinda guy he shows up to be.
2. The last time hurt. It was 3 heartbreaks spaced out in a year, like, major ones, and now that I already know he likes someone else, it's only gonna hurt more if I put myself deeper into this. I didn't even consider looking at anyone else the last time. I suppose I must've changed over the years, but I really don't want to take chances. I'm not that consciously insane.
Oh and by the way, here's a link to a very relative poem (thanks there, you made feel a lot better).
Till tomorrow then. This is gonna be a long teenage.
So, the reason "Hell's painted itself pink" (to quote Nutee), is that I am somewhere in like-going-to-love stage. It's the guy who
Aug '03:I didn't want to fall for
Mar '04:fell for
Dec '05:fell out of
Jun '06:hated
Jan '07:scorned
Jul '07:pitied
Dec '07:considered (like what the hell is that, anyway?)
Jan '08:tried to ignore
Feb '08:didn't want to fall for
Mar '08:(tadaa!) fell for.
That's how tightly he was packed into my schedule. Like there are these characters you so know your life would be better without. But nay, you just want the pain to start, the wound to burn. Like Dettol down those knee bruises, geddit?
To quote a few lines from a song long forgotten by public memory, but thoroughly etched in my mind as something that vividly describes how I usually feel:
"Abhi Koi Dil Main Jashn Hua Hain
Abhi Koi Taza Zakhm Mila Hain
Abhi Khamoshi Bhi Khamosh Si Hain
Ke Koi Mujhko Soch Raha Hain"
I am a happy girl, all the time, I can't go frowning all day long. Yeah life has its share of awful days, but I'm the type, if there is a type, who doesn't really care. It's the smile on my own face that keeps me insanely happy. It's the maddening will to laugh at myself. I am a happy girl, because I know that happy lies only where you can see it. No one other than yourself can keep you happy.
But there are these times, like once a month, when I take things to heart. When I want to differ from the 'I'm-always-thinking-and-measured-and-calm' sorts, who has her arrogant obstinacy numero uno on priorities. Like, I think with my heart. I want to be Like theother girls around me, the painful, crazy want of attention, and maybe, even love.
Here's yet another secret. I'm scared of that word 'love', like, shit scared of using it. I don't think anyone will ever fall in love, at least now. At least with me. Stupid, childish complex, I know. But it's there, nothing doing. My close friends who know what's in my head try to get me speak the word; but I can't. It's not love, I know it. May be that I'm not giving my feelings the respect they deserve, the credit for maturity they have gained. May be that I still think I'm frivolous. And fickle. The part where you are ready to give up anything for someone else, and not ask something in return comes to me all too easily since a long time now. When I say I choose my friends, I mean it. Not a single betrayal, any sign of distrust, or any cracks. I don't even give the person an opportunity to do that. So if at all I'm not friends with anyone anymore, it's because we've just fizzed out. I choose my friends so that I know what I have asked for. So 'sacrifice', as so many like to put it, is no problem.
This guy happened on such a day. I allowed him a crack; he dug a tunnel. Given a choice, I'd have kept my distance those days, and not given on the vibe that it may be time to start being friends now. Which we never were. So here I'm faced with a sample where I feel like the one being controlled, and the other one is that arrogant brat who, as my closest friend puts it, "is just unapologetic about what he is. A case of confident take me as I am or leave me". What bewildered me all this while, is what makes him that way. The kind who can hold your gaze for just long enough till it's about to reach the friend's warm timeline, and lets go before that moment. Why he still can't qualify as my friend. What makes him any different from the other guys I have liked.
The thing is, I know what's lined up for me next. I can feel it. It's heartbreak. Cold and terrible. It's the kinda pain you can't describe. If you knew me anywhere personally, I hate not having a reason for something. Headaches, Maths solutions, weather forecasts, mythology. I need a reason to stop the questions in the brain. So when hurt comes, it's not just what they call heart, the pain is in the pit of the stomach for starters, but after that it's in every corpuscle, every cell. It doesn't spare you anything. It's just something that doesn't have a sound reason.
A little bit of reasoning could've prevented the situation totally. Had I not tried to close my brains that day and allow the stupid cardio-maniac to work out things for me, I'd have been less preoccupied, more attentive, less moody, more involved.
I keep saying stupid things these days, he thinks I'm drunk all the while. Giggling goes on for hours, little spurts of irrelevant and unnecessary giggles don't stop. I don't know if it's just me, but we're closer now. Physically? Perhaps. Emotionally? I am.
There are two very basic issues I have with falling for this fellow.
1. He's never going to fall for me, which is kinda a non-issue, as I really don't expect anyone to. It's their life, what I feel for them is pretty much the last of their worries. Poeple don't have to like those who feel different for them. Moreover, I'm tending to ugly to look at, and there's hardly much beyond that guys consider. At least the kinda guy he shows up to be.
2. The last time hurt. It was 3 heartbreaks spaced out in a year, like, major ones, and now that I already know he likes someone else, it's only gonna hurt more if I put myself deeper into this. I didn't even consider looking at anyone else the last time. I suppose I must've changed over the years, but I really don't want to take chances. I'm not that consciously insane.
Oh and by the way, here's a link to a very relative poem (thanks there, you made feel a lot better).
Till tomorrow then. This is gonna be a long teenage.
That HSC-passed kid in my house.
For the first time, after a very long time, I'm signing into this very sacred page. The last entry being on..lemme see...OMG!!13th May!I've grown a month and lost 2 kilos since!!
So here goes...I'm freelancing for Education Times! And I love what I write*!Man, it's been a long month..ranging from being one of those education agony aunts on missionadmission.in, I've just come to realise that more people have really stranger things on their mind than you could possibly have yourself. Like half of them keep asking me if their marks are good enough. I don't think so, but I'll be sacked if my moderators (yeah, they keep a check on my wisecracks-repression of freedom of expression) find out I'm being downright nasty to someone. Don't worry, Anuradha/Panna/Barin**...I love you guys!
I've also been writing a few articles. Three actually, one being an interview. No, I don't make up stuff; I actually interviewed someone. So there's the point of word-limit, content, context, quotes, being politically correct. It's this thing I can't stand about writing for someone: being told what to write. That's why I take comfort in this blog (sob sob). Mera pyaara blog.
Also, I am just so bursting to say this, I went to Bandstand for the first time yesterday. And before any one of you start..here's answering all your doubts:
1.Yes, the first time
2.Yes, I'm from Mithibai
3.No, not even in the FYJC.
4.No, not even with friends.
5.No, it wasn't a date.
6.Yes, believe me, the first time.
So this chap I went with, my closest pal, I'd met him after three months. He's down with malaria, is having just as sucky a lovelife as me (though the difference is, he has a love life, and you know me), and is the usual say-three-things-in-a-sentence-that-aren't-related bugger. Yet, he makes the time to get out of his bed to meet you (point is, I'd run away from home to meet him!) no matter what. But when you love a guy (now, that means, the way you love a guy because he's the closest friend, most comforting sample existent) the way I do him, all you care about is if he'll be okay the next minute. He was. Considering he tried blowing bubbles in the freshlime soda we ordered with his nose through the straw. No, the fever's not got to his head, he's just that way.
Also, the loss of my kitten. Or our kitten. Simba found his way into our lives when one fine evening Collin decides to play with the stray. And we all fell in love with him, the cat, that is. So then, I was mamma- at home, caring, with time to spare, give him stuff to eat, take him to the vet, Collin was dadda- the proverbial I'm-just-for-spoiling-you-when-I-get-back-home-from-work type, Shri's the loving aunt, Clarie the coochie-cooing Uncle, and Gigi the Godmother, who would sit alone for hours with Simba when his mum was out. And last Sunday, there's no kitten. We searched the building for hours. But no signs of Simba. He's probably run away, to be in the wishful side. The horrid part is Shri's dad thought he heard a cat-fight sometime around midnight. So there could be anything. My first baby ran away. That's the sad part about cats, they're ungrateful. I loved my baby! (mushy mushy)
I'm running around for admissions. If you have any notion of what being an HSC passed student applying to colleges for graduation means in Mumbai, you'll know what I mean. For those who don't, here's an idea:
8.30 am:Andheri to Bandra
10 am:Bandra to Vile Parle
10.45 am: Vile Parle to Bandra
12.15 pm:Bandra to CST
2.30 pm:CST to Churchgate
3 pm: Churchgate to Mahalakshmi
5.15 pm: Mahalakshmi to CST
6.30pm: CST to Andheri
Then you get stuck in the traffic at Pump House, and what could be a journey of 30minutes on foot takes you an hour and half by BEST. 339, at that. But seriously, I enjoyed it. May I also add, that this all was taken care of by me, with my chappals breaking twice (thanks, Linking Road), and one instance when before my last train journey from CST, the mochi at the corner himself (may you never go hungry) calls me to his stall. I was too zonked to think of anything but food.
So, that is what my day is made up of. Well, like any other writer, I've given you the description of just the most tiring day, but the others were moderately pleasant, with the Mumbai-special Rain Gods sparing me their wrath.
So that's the month that was. The reason I wasn't all that kaam-dhanda-less as usual. Please, pray that I get through at Xaviers. My marks sucked, I didn't contemplate harm. But if I don't get through at Xaviers, the next entry might be my obituary.
See ya!
*I always loved what I write, I just started getting paid for it!
**The guys who're in charge of us unruly, obnoxious lot.
So here goes...I'm freelancing for Education Times! And I love what I write*!Man, it's been a long month..ranging from being one of those education agony aunts on missionadmission.in, I've just come to realise that more people have really stranger things on their mind than you could possibly have yourself. Like half of them keep asking me if their marks are good enough. I don't think so, but I'll be sacked if my moderators (yeah, they keep a check on my wisecracks-repression of freedom of expression) find out I'm being downright nasty to someone. Don't worry, Anuradha/Panna/Barin**...I love you guys!
I've also been writing a few articles. Three actually, one being an interview. No, I don't make up stuff; I actually interviewed someone. So there's the point of word-limit, content, context, quotes, being politically correct. It's this thing I can't stand about writing for someone: being told what to write. That's why I take comfort in this blog (sob sob). Mera pyaara blog.
Also, I am just so bursting to say this, I went to Bandstand for the first time yesterday. And before any one of you start..here's answering all your doubts:
1.Yes, the first time
2.Yes, I'm from Mithibai
3.No, not even in the FYJC.
4.No, not even with friends.
5.No, it wasn't a date.
6.Yes, believe me, the first time.
So this chap I went with, my closest pal, I'd met him after three months. He's down with malaria, is having just as sucky a lovelife as me (though the difference is, he has a love life, and you know me), and is the usual say-three-things-in-a-sentence-that-aren't-related bugger. Yet, he makes the time to get out of his bed to meet you (point is, I'd run away from home to meet him!) no matter what. But when you love a guy (now, that means, the way you love a guy because he's the closest friend, most comforting sample existent) the way I do him, all you care about is if he'll be okay the next minute. He was. Considering he tried blowing bubbles in the freshlime soda we ordered with his nose through the straw. No, the fever's not got to his head, he's just that way.
Also, the loss of my kitten. Or our kitten. Simba found his way into our lives when one fine evening Collin decides to play with the stray. And we all fell in love with him, the cat, that is. So then, I was mamma- at home, caring, with time to spare, give him stuff to eat, take him to the vet, Collin was dadda- the proverbial I'm-just-for-spoiling-you-when-I-get-back-home-from-work type, Shri's the loving aunt, Clarie the coochie-cooing Uncle, and Gigi the Godmother, who would sit alone for hours with Simba when his mum was out. And last Sunday, there's no kitten. We searched the building for hours. But no signs of Simba. He's probably run away, to be in the wishful side. The horrid part is Shri's dad thought he heard a cat-fight sometime around midnight. So there could be anything. My first baby ran away. That's the sad part about cats, they're ungrateful. I loved my baby! (mushy mushy)
I'm running around for admissions. If you have any notion of what being an HSC passed student applying to colleges for graduation means in Mumbai, you'll know what I mean. For those who don't, here's an idea:
8.30 am:Andheri to Bandra
10 am:Bandra to Vile Parle
10.45 am: Vile Parle to Bandra
12.15 pm:Bandra to CST
2.30 pm:CST to Churchgate
3 pm: Churchgate to Mahalakshmi
5.15 pm: Mahalakshmi to CST
6.30pm: CST to Andheri
Then you get stuck in the traffic at Pump House, and what could be a journey of 30minutes on foot takes you an hour and half by BEST. 339, at that. But seriously, I enjoyed it. May I also add, that this all was taken care of by me, with my chappals breaking twice (thanks, Linking Road), and one instance when before my last train journey from CST, the mochi at the corner himself (may you never go hungry) calls me to his stall. I was too zonked to think of anything but food.
So, that is what my day is made up of. Well, like any other writer, I've given you the description of just the most tiring day, but the others were moderately pleasant, with the Mumbai-special Rain Gods sparing me their wrath.
So that's the month that was. The reason I wasn't all that kaam-dhanda-less as usual. Please, pray that I get through at Xaviers. My marks sucked, I didn't contemplate harm. But if I don't get through at Xaviers, the next entry might be my obituary.
See ya!
*I always loved what I write, I just started getting paid for it!
**The guys who're in charge of us unruly, obnoxious lot.
That dancer boy
I wouldn't have given him a second glance had his earring not glinted under the tubelight the other day. Then I noticed his nose. I'm a nose person. In the sense, if there's any feature i notice the most, it's a person's nose. His was big. It suited his face, even though otherwise it would have looked as if the rest of his features wouldn't have been able to balance it. Then his long neck. Then the football jersey.
I think I'm going to have to force myself out of the jersey fascination. If a dark, tall, cute guy wears it, it's likely I'll be wearing my heart on my sleeve for him. Incidently, even those guys who I've had some romantic interest in and I've never previously seen in football jerseys, land up wearing them. And they either turn up to be Catholic, or Goan..or both.
So this guy, from the elementary level of my dance classes (me in beginners, just promoted to elem!) was in the salsa troupe. generally any girl would whoopeee'd the salsa thing. so did i. and his jersey held up over the skinny frame was worth every whoopeee i let him have. He looked like any of those footbaler guys who need something to do for the vacation only because the headmaster of their school didn't allow them to use the grounds. And then he danced.
total fida, by the way. I kept in touch...he's four days younger to me :D, and Goan!!
Volare!!
I think I'm going to have to force myself out of the jersey fascination. If a dark, tall, cute guy wears it, it's likely I'll be wearing my heart on my sleeve for him. Incidently, even those guys who I've had some romantic interest in and I've never previously seen in football jerseys, land up wearing them. And they either turn up to be Catholic, or Goan..or both.
So this guy, from the elementary level of my dance classes (me in beginners, just promoted to elem!) was in the salsa troupe. generally any girl would whoopeee'd the salsa thing. so did i. and his jersey held up over the skinny frame was worth every whoopeee i let him have. He looked like any of those footbaler guys who need something to do for the vacation only because the headmaster of their school didn't allow them to use the grounds. And then he danced.
total fida, by the way. I kept in touch...he's four days younger to me :D, and Goan!!
Volare!!
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.
Makeovers.
Ever saved a life?
Ever thought you could give someone a new lease of life?
Ever thought about starting again?
I'm going all Mitch Albom right now, but i don't suppose you've given this stuff much thought. Three questions about a new creation that mothers may or may not answer, but each one of us are certainly qualified at some or the other point of life to do that. My moment's not come yet, it's not everyday that you seek opportunities to rescue people from a situation they could regret.I'm happy today, and that's what matters.Practically perfect if not politically.
I'm starting again.'Yet' again for those who know me.But i'm not even promising this is the last time i'm granting myself yet another fresh breath of the life i think is reasonably good.I can't tell whether this is the right thing to do, or whether this is the outlook i will stick to through life.all that is immaterial,for now, what matters to me, is that i think I'm right.Ever had a better feeling?
Decisions we make through life about ourselves,our kin,our friends are something we give a lot of thought to, na?simple everyday decisions, or even the big ones where each word could alter a life.we weigh the pros and cons, the profits, the losses, everything,before we give a thumbs up to that decision. It's something you may consider obvious. But ever thought about those hunches,impulsive acts people do in the rush of the moment?
We'ce been brainwashed against such decisions, all lores telling us how people act impulsively,making wrong decisons, and later regretting their doings. They may not be wrong,but try shedding light on the right decisions people make when they trust their gut, when someone misses a flight which crashes hours later because it just doesnt feel right, when two people fall in love for no apparent reason in the face of adversity, when you break into a run in front of a hundred people just because you feel like, when you cry like a baby, even though you're macho, without meaning.
a large part of the human development happened due to hunches.due to impulsive decisions, and due to the faith that whatever happens in the future because of one's actions will be one's own doing and responsibility, and having no one to blame jus because you followed your heart. That defines freedom to me. The mute but strong fact that I dont live under the burden of others' decisions which i unwillingly accepted. Apne pairo par khade rehna? Expressing yourself because you feel it can change something, and more importantly, because it can calm your conscience? Nothing that makes me happier.
I'll be living that way. My new makeover. I'm beginning to see people in a new light now. i don't have to stop myself, be polite, watch around for someone else. i learnt that everyone is responsible for their own living, and people who think not are kidding themselves. My mentor here, is, well, Geet from 'Jab We Met'.I'm not a religious film follower, but i just realised how strong her message was. How important it is to kick aside dogma, and follow your heart. I'd never want to blame someone else for having lived my life, give someone else the credit of making decisions for me. I know it sounds selfish and egotist, but when you say 'it's my life', you gotta make it yours. and that doesnt mean doing what you like.it means doin what you like with responsibility, only when your sure that even if the decisions you make aren't planned, impulsive actually, you won't regret them. Follow your heart isn't a cliched movie term anymore, look at it as a way of life, and even if you're living yet another day only, then you'll be glad you lived it under your conditiond and beliefs.
That's when you're saving a life. Yours. That's when you're granting someone a new lease of life. That's when you're staring all over again. a person who learns to do things from the heart learns a lot, and teaches a lot too. Asking for help is a sign of strength, realising your follies a sign of intelligence, and the will to correct them a sign of courage. I guess somewhere down the line I'll be glad i took the decisions i did, and somebody will be grateful for that too. We can't tell what the future will bring us, how much our present actions wll affect us however confident we are about them being right. but somewhere in the future, when i look bck, i know i'll be glad having listen to my heart.
Ever thought you could give someone a new lease of life?
Ever thought about starting again?
I'm going all Mitch Albom right now, but i don't suppose you've given this stuff much thought. Three questions about a new creation that mothers may or may not answer, but each one of us are certainly qualified at some or the other point of life to do that. My moment's not come yet, it's not everyday that you seek opportunities to rescue people from a situation they could regret.I'm happy today, and that's what matters.Practically perfect if not politically.
I'm starting again.'Yet' again for those who know me.But i'm not even promising this is the last time i'm granting myself yet another fresh breath of the life i think is reasonably good.I can't tell whether this is the right thing to do, or whether this is the outlook i will stick to through life.all that is immaterial,for now, what matters to me, is that i think I'm right.Ever had a better feeling?
Decisions we make through life about ourselves,our kin,our friends are something we give a lot of thought to, na?simple everyday decisions, or even the big ones where each word could alter a life.we weigh the pros and cons, the profits, the losses, everything,before we give a thumbs up to that decision. It's something you may consider obvious. But ever thought about those hunches,impulsive acts people do in the rush of the moment?
We'ce been brainwashed against such decisions, all lores telling us how people act impulsively,making wrong decisons, and later regretting their doings. They may not be wrong,but try shedding light on the right decisions people make when they trust their gut, when someone misses a flight which crashes hours later because it just doesnt feel right, when two people fall in love for no apparent reason in the face of adversity, when you break into a run in front of a hundred people just because you feel like, when you cry like a baby, even though you're macho, without meaning.
a large part of the human development happened due to hunches.due to impulsive decisions, and due to the faith that whatever happens in the future because of one's actions will be one's own doing and responsibility, and having no one to blame jus because you followed your heart. That defines freedom to me. The mute but strong fact that I dont live under the burden of others' decisions which i unwillingly accepted. Apne pairo par khade rehna? Expressing yourself because you feel it can change something, and more importantly, because it can calm your conscience? Nothing that makes me happier.
I'll be living that way. My new makeover. I'm beginning to see people in a new light now. i don't have to stop myself, be polite, watch around for someone else. i learnt that everyone is responsible for their own living, and people who think not are kidding themselves. My mentor here, is, well, Geet from 'Jab We Met'.I'm not a religious film follower, but i just realised how strong her message was. How important it is to kick aside dogma, and follow your heart. I'd never want to blame someone else for having lived my life, give someone else the credit of making decisions for me. I know it sounds selfish and egotist, but when you say 'it's my life', you gotta make it yours. and that doesnt mean doing what you like.it means doin what you like with responsibility, only when your sure that even if the decisions you make aren't planned, impulsive actually, you won't regret them. Follow your heart isn't a cliched movie term anymore, look at it as a way of life, and even if you're living yet another day only, then you'll be glad you lived it under your conditiond and beliefs.
That's when you're saving a life. Yours. That's when you're granting someone a new lease of life. That's when you're staring all over again. a person who learns to do things from the heart learns a lot, and teaches a lot too. Asking for help is a sign of strength, realising your follies a sign of intelligence, and the will to correct them a sign of courage. I guess somewhere down the line I'll be glad i took the decisions i did, and somebody will be grateful for that too. We can't tell what the future will bring us, how much our present actions wll affect us however confident we are about them being right. but somewhere in the future, when i look bck, i know i'll be glad having listen to my heart.
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