This post is primarily to clear out a few misconceptions people have about me. Though I'm really sure no one who's supposed to read this is doing so, I'm still doing it. The 'Psst!' column, for the first time is a mix-up of people.
This won't make sense to all my fellow bloggers who have no clue what the last week had in store for me, and how I've sailed through it. A note for those who're still reading: Comment, please, on similar reasoning, and how yu'd like to justify yourself more often. Don't hesitate because you haven't been given the entire story.
Scribe's finally broken her own misconceptions about accepting and expressing her feelings. Not learnt the entire lesson, but the semester has commenced. Now, with the help of Dostini, Saxxxy and Lambodar, she's managing to keep her smile on.
Dostini finds Scribe's action gutsy, something she herself wouldn't have ever dared to do. Scribe begs to differ; what happened was an accident, though it was bound to happen on some later date. But the fact remains that Scribe's finally taken responsibility of her own actions, and this time, the consequences are something she least bothers about, with all her intentions really charted well.
Saxxxy finds it hilarious that Scribe should've done something like that. Apart from the teasing that she constantly subjects Scribe to, Saxxxy also makes sure she's always around for moral support. Scribe herself is pretty unmoved by her own actions, and the carelessness that was the reason. But if the support she received from Saxxxy were to waver, she'd have been a lot less confident.
Lambodar is the surprise element in this event. He's the shoulder Scribe chooses to rub off at as his opinion means the world to her. He however presumes that Scribe's embarassed because of what has happened. No, she isn't. She's just anxious about the outcome. She isn't confused either, Lambodar. She knows what she wants, and couldn't be more sure.
Perennial Smarty is something every psychiatrist should have a good look at. He defines confused. He's kept himself away from the scene, just when he's needed the most. Scribe gets a quintal of butterflies in her stomach when she thinks about even facing him. But since both sound pretty normal to each other, the scene's a cool one. Scribe's waiting for a reaction, though she knows what she's in for.
Dabba and Branded are out of the did-you-know-it circle, unhappily. They'd rather be oblivious than uninvolved, but life's not fair. So long as Scribe's not confident about letting them in on the secret, or not, they're staying far, far away from the scenario.
Moral of the story: everyone's in on the big secret, though not everyone's sure what it is!!
Little somethings
It's been a very eventful week. The outcome hasn't been to clear, but all the same, the determination, or rather the obstinacy to stay all smiling has pulled me through. Adrenaline rushes rule the roost, while it's getting tougher to hold back emotions. Okay, getting to the point, here's something I came up with.
There's a little something
I should've said a while ago
But a little part of me
Still doesn't want you to know
About the butterflies I get
When you're here
How you fog up my head
When you're here
And I can't blame you for taking me away
From where I am when you're here
I try to catch your eye and let myself go
I try to be by your side without letting you know
And when you nudge me outta my dream about you
I see you smiling in my reality too
Don't wake me now
Don't let the dream disappear
The dream that I dream
When you're here
The times we pretend we'd do without the other
Ones when we pretend we couldn't be bothered
The blood ion my cheeks that lights up my eyes
The fire in your heart that turns mine into ice
Let's pretend we're alone
Let's pretend things aren't still clear
But deep down I know you can still hear
Those little things my heart says when you're here.
There's a little something
I should've said a while ago
But a little part of me
Still doesn't want you to know
About the butterflies I get
When you're here
How you fog up my head
When you're here
And I can't blame you for taking me away
From where I am when you're here
I try to catch your eye and let myself go
I try to be by your side without letting you know
And when you nudge me outta my dream about you
I see you smiling in my reality too
Don't wake me now
Don't let the dream disappear
The dream that I dream
When you're here
The times we pretend we'd do without the other
Ones when we pretend we couldn't be bothered
The blood ion my cheeks that lights up my eyes
The fire in your heart that turns mine into ice
Let's pretend we're alone
Let's pretend things aren't still clear
But deep down I know you can still hear
Those little things my heart says when you're here.
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.
My haircut.
My haircut was free of cost. That artist took me in as a model; well not the slim and trim (ha ha ha) model, the bakra you make sit for 30 minutes so that you can try new haircuts on him/her. So, anyway, she takes me to Khar, to some sidey salon, and she cuts my hair for two hours.
A prologue here: my hair was, before the disaster, 5 inches long at the pinnacle of its length. So a haircut meant, as I told the girl very clearly, that she reduce it to a minimum of 4 inches.
Apparently she hears everything in halves or doubles. So instead of the hair going to 4 inches in half an hour, it goes to 2 inches in an hour.
I kept asking her to not make it too short. But you know these girls, a Sony-Ericsson in their ears makes them 80% deaf. She kept nodding, and when she was done, I was fuming. I looked like the Scribe I remember 8 years back. Even then I wasn't that much of a pleasant sight.
Being the decent, patient person I am, I decided 15 kilometres wasn't all that a favourable place to throw a tantrum.
So, you suffer, dearest bloggie.
Here's todays schedule anyway.
7.45 am: Wakey
8.15 am: Running
9.30 am: Beautician comes over
11 am: She finishes, after 5 10 minute long phone calls.
3 pm: I leave for Khar
4.30 pm: I reach Khar, courtesy a random acquaintance of beautician who meets her at the station.
5.15 pm: I sit for the Cut
6.45 pm: she's finally done with it
8.30 pm: She packs up with Dostini and Saxxxy, equally bored yet calmer.
8.45 pm: I'm running the marathon so that I can collect my cellphone.
9.15 pm: After the cell still not being repaired, I walk off to meet Dostini and Saxxxy who're buying Perennial's cake.
9.30 pm: We leave Vile Parle for home
9.45 pm: We reach the building
10.15 PM: Perennial already knows about the surprise, so we make a few changes, only to revert to plan A
And if everything goes well, half an hour from now, Dabba, Saxxxy and Dostini will be here with the cake, ready to go to Perennial's place for the ritualistic 'surprise'.
A prologue here: my hair was, before the disaster, 5 inches long at the pinnacle of its length. So a haircut meant, as I told the girl very clearly, that she reduce it to a minimum of 4 inches.
Apparently she hears everything in halves or doubles. So instead of the hair going to 4 inches in half an hour, it goes to 2 inches in an hour.
I kept asking her to not make it too short. But you know these girls, a Sony-Ericsson in their ears makes them 80% deaf. She kept nodding, and when she was done, I was fuming. I looked like the Scribe I remember 8 years back. Even then I wasn't that much of a pleasant sight.
Being the decent, patient person I am, I decided 15 kilometres wasn't all that a favourable place to throw a tantrum.
So, you suffer, dearest bloggie.
Here's todays schedule anyway.
7.45 am: Wakey
8.15 am: Running
9.30 am: Beautician comes over
11 am: She finishes, after 5 10 minute long phone calls.
3 pm: I leave for Khar
4.30 pm: I reach Khar, courtesy a random acquaintance of beautician who meets her at the station.
5.15 pm: I sit for the Cut
6.45 pm: she's finally done with it
8.30 pm: She packs up with Dostini and Saxxxy, equally bored yet calmer.
8.45 pm: I'm running the marathon so that I can collect my cellphone.
9.15 pm: After the cell still not being repaired, I walk off to meet Dostini and Saxxxy who're buying Perennial's cake.
9.30 pm: We leave Vile Parle for home
9.45 pm: We reach the building
10.15 PM: Perennial already knows about the surprise, so we make a few changes, only to revert to plan A
And if everything goes well, half an hour from now, Dabba, Saxxxy and Dostini will be here with the cake, ready to go to Perennial's place for the ritualistic 'surprise'.
Psst!
The update ticker's back:
1. Scribe's become all cranky, girlish, troublesome- something she missed as a preteen, and she seems to want it all back. I see trouble.
2. Dostini's having tough schedules, hasn't had space to breathe since the time her exams started. Big Sis came and went, and Dostini's still in the panting act. But she's expected to be back to normal (which is what exactly?) anytime now. One person who deserves a vacation, that one.
3. Dabba'a back! wooohoooo! so regardless of what time it is, what season, who died, there's still someone to bore! She's grinning more, runs off into her brain-made Kerala sometime in the middle of the conversation, and then loses overall track of what's being said. Kerala has that effect on people.
4. Lambodar's dislocated his toe. He had a surgery today, and it was hurting him. It hurts to see him in pain, seriously, Scribe wanted to weep.
5. Saxxxy Rakhi's reinstated her love- Japani. Studying has started with new vigour, and so has her friendship with the very naive Bratvita. No one's complaining though, till the time Saxxxy weeps, Vita's gotta be cautious of her words.
6. Perennial Smarty's hardly around, needless to say, that explains Scribe's frowning. College, office, class...you miss the bugger. Birthday coming up on Saturday. Wonder what its gonna be like (***silly giggle in formation stage***).
7. Branded's cuter than ever! Yeah, he's back, and cheek-pulling will continue till the time he finally shakes Scribe off. Dostini's taking up Tamil coaching from him.
That's us.
1. Scribe's become all cranky, girlish, troublesome- something she missed as a preteen, and she seems to want it all back. I see trouble.
2. Dostini's having tough schedules, hasn't had space to breathe since the time her exams started. Big Sis came and went, and Dostini's still in the panting act. But she's expected to be back to normal (which is what exactly?) anytime now. One person who deserves a vacation, that one.
3. Dabba'a back! wooohoooo! so regardless of what time it is, what season, who died, there's still someone to bore! She's grinning more, runs off into her brain-made Kerala sometime in the middle of the conversation, and then loses overall track of what's being said. Kerala has that effect on people.
4. Lambodar's dislocated his toe. He had a surgery today, and it was hurting him. It hurts to see him in pain, seriously, Scribe wanted to weep.
5. Saxxxy Rakhi's reinstated her love- Japani. Studying has started with new vigour, and so has her friendship with the very naive Bratvita. No one's complaining though, till the time Saxxxy weeps, Vita's gotta be cautious of her words.
6. Perennial Smarty's hardly around, needless to say, that explains Scribe's frowning. College, office, class...you miss the bugger. Birthday coming up on Saturday. Wonder what its gonna be like (***silly giggle in formation stage***).
7. Branded's cuter than ever! Yeah, he's back, and cheek-pulling will continue till the time he finally shakes Scribe off. Dostini's taking up Tamil coaching from him.
That's us.
Radhika the Seer's Observations and conclusions
On the way back from school three years back, the thinker snaps into action. the effect: was never pleasant.
To my friends who I barely managed to stay with, with the exception of Hormazd, here's to your creepy features!
okay..i dunno wat gt in2 me 2de,bt i ws really in2 sum wierd theories.here r a few of them...
FACT}---why gaurav patel has such cute dimples.
THEORY}---gaurav nvr talks much.so it cn b assumed tht he doesnt open his mouth much.therefore since there is hardly ne circulation of air inside his mouth a vacuum is created there.nature has a tendency to occupy vacuum.hence his cheeks get sucked right in2 his mouth n therefore, the dimples.
DOC'S ADVISE}---keep ur holy mouth shut.ur dimpies r the best thing abt u.
FACT}---why nyrica is so fair.
THEORY}---during her bachpan, as in 'childhood',nyrica used to hav lots n lots of water.water as u kno is the universal solvent.so because of the increasing proportion of water in her body, the melanin, as in the pigment in the skin tht gives the skin watever colour it has, got dissloved in the water.hence, no melanin, no promised color.n they'd rather say fair instead of colourless.
DOC'S ADVISE}---eat chocolate.might help.
FACT}---why pankti has dark circles.
THEORY}---pankti , like the above specimen nyrica, also has a tendncy to drink lots of water.the water she drinks however does not reach her eyes n the area around it.this is bcoz of her height.the force of gravity pulls all the water consumed by this figure (or monument) of height 5'7" to da ground.hence the concentration of water is not uniform all over her metabolism.also, thanks to her braces, the water reacts wid the ferrum n produces ferric oxide (or shall v call it rust???)hence, the sensitive area around those brown eyes nvr recieves the fair n intended share of water.hence the melanin does nt get properly diluted as like in the other parts of her body.hence dark, n darkening circle.
DOC'S ADVISE}---sit more.therefore the entire body is more uniformly influenced by the gravitational force.
FACT}---why hormazd is ....er....expanding???
THEORY}---u kno its not really all his fault.since the earthquake took place, the north pole has shifted southwards by 2 inches.hence the magnetic field of the earth has also gone haywire.so instead of growing in the north-south direction, horzy grows east-west.
DOC'S ADVISE}---nothing.just pray ur best for the next earthquake.
To my friends who I barely managed to stay with, with the exception of Hormazd, here's to your creepy features!
okay..i dunno wat gt in2 me 2de,bt i ws really in2 sum wierd theories.here r a few of them...
FACT}---why gaurav patel has such cute dimples.
THEORY}---gaurav nvr talks much.so it cn b assumed tht he doesnt open his mouth much.therefore since there is hardly ne circulation of air inside his mouth a vacuum is created there.nature has a tendency to occupy vacuum.hence his cheeks get sucked right in2 his mouth n therefore, the dimples.
DOC'S ADVISE}---keep ur holy mouth shut.ur dimpies r the best thing abt u.
FACT}---why nyrica is so fair.
THEORY}---during her bachpan, as in 'childhood',nyrica used to hav lots n lots of water.water as u kno is the universal solvent.so because of the increasing proportion of water in her body, the melanin, as in the pigment in the skin tht gives the skin watever colour it has, got dissloved in the water.hence, no melanin, no promised color.n they'd rather say fair instead of colourless.
DOC'S ADVISE}---eat chocolate.might help.
FACT}---why pankti has dark circles.
THEORY}---pankti , like the above specimen nyrica, also has a tendncy to drink lots of water.the water she drinks however does not reach her eyes n the area around it.this is bcoz of her height.the force of gravity pulls all the water consumed by this figure (or monument) of height 5'7" to da ground.hence the concentration of water is not uniform all over her metabolism.also, thanks to her braces, the water reacts wid the ferrum n produces ferric oxide (or shall v call it rust???)hence, the sensitive area around those brown eyes nvr recieves the fair n intended share of water.hence the melanin does nt get properly diluted as like in the other parts of her body.hence dark, n darkening circle.
DOC'S ADVISE}---sit more.therefore the entire body is more uniformly influenced by the gravitational force.
FACT}---why hormazd is ....er....expanding???
THEORY}---u kno its not really all his fault.since the earthquake took place, the north pole has shifted southwards by 2 inches.hence the magnetic field of the earth has also gone haywire.so instead of growing in the north-south direction, horzy grows east-west.
DOC'S ADVISE}---nothing.just pray ur best for the next earthquake.
Radhika the Shrink's Making brains easier to understand!
Written at the age of 14!!
HUMAN BRAINS have the following sections
(N.B.::this note will help students distinguish smartly between female & male brains.)
I::FEMALE SPECIES..........homo sapiens sapiens
CEREBELLUM---->Debating continuously on whether the guy likes her.
CEREBRUM CORTEX---->Whether or not she will look good when she says this this way.
MEDULLA OBLONGATA---->His friend isn't all that bad either....
II::MALE SPECIES..........homo sapiens sapiens
CEREBELLUM---->That schwazernegger movie is out this weekend,which car does he have this time?/Nick's new gameboy is so.....
CEREBRUM CORTEX---->How should I set my hair today,spikes or filmi?
MEDULLA OBLONGATA---->Nick's sister is okay,rather cool timepass.Quite a chick actually...wonder if she's dating anyone currently??
Kindly note:This study was viewed by 7 members of both species mentiond above,and it has been established by the clear look of horror on their faces that MY STUDY IS SO ABSOLUTELY TRUE!!!!!
HUMAN BRAINS have the following sections
(N.B.::this note will help students distinguish smartly between female & male brains.)
I::FEMALE SPECIES..........homo sapiens sapiens
CEREBELLUM
CEREBRUM CORTEX
MEDULLA OBLONGATA
II::MALE SPECIES..........homo sapiens sapiens
CEREBELLUM
CEREBRUM CORTEX
MEDULLA OBLONGATA
Kindly note:This study was viewed by 7 members of both species mentiond above,and it has been established by the clear look of horror on their faces that MY STUDY IS SO ABSOLUTELY TRUE!!!!!
Boys will be boys.
My brother (extreme right) with his chaddi buddies on the benches.
I've learnt my lesson. Watch football only if you want to, not because your crush likes it. Do not pretend to support a team, just because that's the only team of which you know more than 15% of the players. And yes, football is not worth ruining your morning walk, or playing to have no fever at 101 d.f.
Like, my bro and dad are in the living room watching the match between Italy and Spain, each multitasking; dad's designing the new house, Rahul's eating Maggi. I stood the absolutely disinterest for 66 minutes, and then I gave up. It really isn't any point sitting there waiting for something to happen. So here goes my theory: a game with no goal scored by either sides will be boring (ho hum), as none of the teams are as wild about winning. But the second the other team scores a kickie, the game catches on the zing, because no matter what, this team doesn't want the antagonists to win. What a spendid theory. Bravo bravo (Blame that on 3 glasses of Tropicana Twister and 5 hours of sleep in the last 48).
How those guys up there endure the kick-here-kick-there show is a question loaded with several replies.
"Dude! It's football! How can you not watch it!"
"Chhod, you're a girl"...like, what the pup!!! So??
"Arre it's God's game re. You need to be wild about it"...There goes, why?
"It's better than your FRIENDS at least!"...Objection. Sustained!
"I breathe that game!"...For one and a half hours? Oral odour buggie.
And then there come these guys who wear jerseys all the pupping time. Dude, I mean, why? Okay, most of them are really cute Xaviers maal (no, Clarie, not you), but then, do I wear the Team India shirt? Or the SDIPA? They have it on them wherever they go. College, playground (fair enough), birthday parties. You call such guys the 'Fanatics'. Yet these are the same chauvinists who'd blame their gf's for wearing pink more than twice a day. Hypocrites.
And it comes to you big time when they start fighting over their clubs. I'm sure Cristiano has a bloody good idea of what Daison and Pranoy think of him. It's not just in the friends' circle, I have a pair of cousins who've stopped talking because one is a ManUtd worshipper and the other a Chelsea junkie. Seriously?
What bugs me the most from all of this is that when someone gets their facts wrong about a club, any club, these Fanatics laugh at you. Make you feel like an ignorant ferret. A llama. Isn't it 'oh-so-pupping-funny' when I say Rooney plays for Real? Well okay, that's grave, but get the idea. They act as if you deserve the gallows for such a thing. Pronounce 'Baar-kaa' instead of 'Baar-saa' for Barcelona and they glare at you. Dude, here's a really well known thingy. We know a lot more about things other than cars, football and bikes than you do, things that actually help you survive. So the next time you give me the 'you-so-bloody-stupid' look, save your muscles. I'll start.
Here's what. I think guys (guys here, because girls are properly considerate towards other equal beings who know one thing less than the average girl) who live football, are downright faggots. I like everything in moderation, like you care, but if you're breathing football while even making out, I'll find a nice boy for you. All caring, and sweet and delicate. Stay happy, Prince Charming with the football, I'm searching for a guy!
For the eligible football-nuts, ignore the post.
And goodnight, I've got a match to watch.
Psst!
Wotcher. I was going through Chris' bloggie baby, and saw that I'd been tagged with the same post he put up eons ago. So, I decided I'd put up what I'd put up then. Whatever. An important notice before you start reading: This was filled up when I was 15, so a lotta views have changed since. Hence it is bound to be half as inetersting as the other entries. You dare contradict that.
1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.’(i)hydrogen displacement method: This method is suitable for’
2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can
RDB DVD, some kinda jewellery box
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
about croc hunter..too bad he died.
4.Without looking, guess what time it is?
Thats easy: 9.45pm? yes yes yeeeeeeessssss
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Rain.
7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
went down to manasi’s
8.Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
somebody else’s answers to this survey..
9. What are you wearing?
Tracks,grey shirt
10. Did you dream last night?
pretty weird 1…something about my tuition teacher ,my mum,smiley, n me…
11. When did you last laugh?
yesterday at teacher’s day celebration in school.
12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
a calendar,a mirror,a pic of flamingoes..
13. Seen anything weird lately?
Kiran!!
15.What is the last film u saw?
Fanaa…sucked.
16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
a home gym,Innova
17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.
I never make eye contact with my crushes.
18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Let ‘em all kno wat a @#$% bush is n stop America’s imperialism
19. Do you like to dance?duh…yeah!!!
20. George Bush...
can eat dung.
21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
meera,or mebbe alisha or priyanka
22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Aditya..even if my second's a boy i'll name him dat...sexy name..but i know really goofy people called that.
23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
yeah...
24.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Get in quick, the party’s just started…
25. People who may do this memo in their journal.
Pankti.CANT SAY ABOUT NE1 ELSE.
Oh crappity crap. I'm glad my style of writing evolved. So here goes, again, questions copied from Chris. It's like you start your mp3 player,keep it on shuffle, and whatever the next question is, your answer has to be the next song. If you don't geddit, I'm not explaining.
1. If someone says "Is This Okay?" you say?
Pehla nasha, Pehla khumaar- JJWS
I’m some creep na!
2. What would best describe your personality?
Vulnerable-Secondhand Serenade
sheeeeeshhh what timing yaar…
3. What do u like in a guy/girl?
Carnival of Rust-Poets of the fall
Must be some robot I’m in love with..
4. How do u feel today?
How to save a life-The Fray
Yes, sir. I’m a DIY manual as of today. May turn into Fountainhead tomorrow.
5. Whats your life's purpose?
Does your mother know?-ABBA
Seriously, no offense.
6. What is your motto?
Zara zara-RHTDM
Uuurgh…I’m not that way.
7. What do your friends think of you?
Welcome to the Black parade-MCR
Yeah dude, that’s mah gang huh..doncha mess with mah boys..
8. What do u think of your parents?
Powerless!-Nelly furtado
Whoa Nelly! You rock!
9. What do u think about very often?
Risque- Cute is what we aim for
Pretty please.
10. What is 2+2??
Unwell-Matchbox Twenty
Mathematics makes me SICK
11. What do u think of your best friend?
What I go to school for!-Busted
My best friend’s not too happy with that one…
12. What do you think of the person U like?
Jeet lenge haan!-Agnee theme for roadies…
Goes for the guy I like…
13. What is your life story?
Time of your life-Nimrod.
Absolutely!!
14. What do u want to be when you grow up?
Ankhiyaan na maar-Ek Khiladi Ek Haseena
Abstinence, I be you.
15. What do think when you see the person u like?
Naagin- Decibel
He’s gonna love this!!
16. What do ur parents think of you?
Breath-Breaking Benjamin
They decided to do pranayam whenever they saw me.
17. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Teenagers-MCR
My folk are planning for honour-killings.
18. What will they play at ur funeral?
Mera pehla pehla pyaar-MP3
I’m one lucky girl.
19. What is your hobby/Interest?
Do dil mil rahe hai- Pardes
Setting-vetting karneka
20. What is your biggest secret?
Deewana tera- Sonu Nigam
Yeah like that’s So my big secret
21. What do u think of ur friends?
Kal ho na ho- Title track
No guys, please, lemme explain…
22. What would u post this as?
Aankhon mein tera hi chehra- Aryans.
I wouldn’t for heaven’s sake!
So, that's that. Thanks again, CRD!
1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.’(i)hydrogen displacement method: This method is suitable for’
2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can
RDB DVD, some kinda jewellery box
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
about croc hunter..too bad he died.
4.Without looking, guess what time it is?
Thats easy: 9.45pm? yes yes yeeeeeeessssss
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Rain.
7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
went down to manasi’s
8.Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
somebody else’s answers to this survey..
9. What are you wearing?
Tracks,grey shirt
10. Did you dream last night?
pretty weird 1…something about my tuition teacher ,my mum,smiley, n me…
11. When did you last laugh?
yesterday at teacher’s day celebration in school.
12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
a calendar,a mirror,a pic of flamingoes..
13. Seen anything weird lately?
Kiran!!
15.What is the last film u saw?
Fanaa…sucked.
16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
a home gym,Innova
17. Tell me something about you that I dunno.
I never make eye contact with my crushes.
18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Let ‘em all kno wat a @#$% bush is n stop America’s imperialism
19. Do you like to dance?duh…yeah!!!
20. George Bush...
can eat dung.
21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
meera,or mebbe alisha or priyanka
22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Aditya..even if my second's a boy i'll name him dat...sexy name..but i know really goofy people called that.
23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
yeah...
24.What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Get in quick, the party’s just started…
25. People who may do this memo in their journal.
Pankti.CANT SAY ABOUT NE1 ELSE.
Oh crappity crap. I'm glad my style of writing evolved. So here goes, again, questions copied from Chris. It's like you start your mp3 player,keep it on shuffle, and whatever the next question is, your answer has to be the next song. If you don't geddit, I'm not explaining.
1. If someone says "Is This Okay?" you say?
Pehla nasha, Pehla khumaar- JJWS
I’m some creep na!
2. What would best describe your personality?
Vulnerable-Secondhand Serenade
sheeeeeshhh what timing yaar…
3. What do u like in a guy/girl?
Carnival of Rust-Poets of the fall
Must be some robot I’m in love with..
4. How do u feel today?
How to save a life-The Fray
Yes, sir. I’m a DIY manual as of today. May turn into Fountainhead tomorrow.
5. Whats your life's purpose?
Does your mother know?-ABBA
Seriously, no offense.
6. What is your motto?
Zara zara-RHTDM
Uuurgh…I’m not that way.
7. What do your friends think of you?
Welcome to the Black parade-MCR
Yeah dude, that’s mah gang huh..doncha mess with mah boys..
8. What do u think of your parents?
Powerless!-Nelly furtado
Whoa Nelly! You rock!
9. What do u think about very often?
Risque- Cute is what we aim for
Pretty please.
10. What is 2+2??
Unwell-Matchbox Twenty
Mathematics makes me SICK
11. What do u think of your best friend?
What I go to school for!-Busted
My best friend’s not too happy with that one…
12. What do you think of the person U like?
Jeet lenge haan!-Agnee theme for roadies…
Goes for the guy I like…
13. What is your life story?
Time of your life-Nimrod.
Absolutely!!
14. What do u want to be when you grow up?
Ankhiyaan na maar-Ek Khiladi Ek Haseena
Abstinence, I be you.
15. What do think when you see the person u like?
Naagin- Decibel
He’s gonna love this!!
16. What do ur parents think of you?
Breath-Breaking Benjamin
They decided to do pranayam whenever they saw me.
17. What will you dance to at your wedding?
Teenagers-MCR
My folk are planning for honour-killings.
18. What will they play at ur funeral?
Mera pehla pehla pyaar-MP3
I’m one lucky girl.
19. What is your hobby/Interest?
Do dil mil rahe hai- Pardes
Setting-vetting karneka
20. What is your biggest secret?
Deewana tera- Sonu Nigam
Yeah like that’s So my big secret
21. What do u think of ur friends?
Kal ho na ho- Title track
No guys, please, lemme explain…
22. What would u post this as?
Aankhon mein tera hi chehra- Aryans.
I wouldn’t for heaven’s sake!
So, that's that. Thanks again, CRD!
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)