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.
Funeral Blues
From 'Four weddings and a funeral'. A poem that makes me cry everytime I read it. It expresses the anguish and the hurt of the lover.
The times when I can't make sense of why I'm hurt, and when even the closest of friends can't seem to grasp why I'm behaving a certain way. I think at times these lines can express what each one of us feel- the need for the world to suffer because someone we care about has a raw deal.
Do read it, it's beautiful.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut of the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the pianos and with a muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead
Put crape bows round the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves
He was my North, my South, my East and West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
- W.H.Auden
The times when I can't make sense of why I'm hurt, and when even the closest of friends can't seem to grasp why I'm behaving a certain way. I think at times these lines can express what each one of us feel- the need for the world to suffer because someone we care about has a raw deal.
Do read it, it's beautiful.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut of the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the pianos and with a muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead
Put crape bows round the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves
He was my North, my South, my East and West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
- W.H.Auden
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.
Wake up, Sids of the world...
Off facebook for a good week now. Turns out life can continue. Special thanks to Rishanka, Kapish and Sahil- all in the previous post :P for being on gtalk as well, that really helps keep some conversation going!
Essentially, I've begun to learn to manage my time. Not better, but just manage- since I didn't do any of that before this. Now I read, do my projects, update this page, do my projects, think obsessively of festival names for this new venture UPG's starting this week. I also believe my writing quotient has dipped- I am not half as funny (in case I'm flattering myself there, don't tell me), gawky as I was the last time. Serious stuff (Academics, ambitions, love) get in the way of my sense of humour. I'm 11 days from turning 20, but somehow, I think this time it's gonna be cool. Cold almost. I mean, usually I engage myself in all the birthday preparations of people all over, my friends do that for me too- but this time, everyone's in their final year, and everyone's creeped out. This is including my building lot- Manasi, Shri, Coll, Viv (who never turns up anyway), Deepa and Clarie (Both of whom I miss). Everyone's up to something. Good, really.
The name Siddharth- it's making a comeback every few weeks these days. If people weren't enough, characters in books turn out to be Siddharth. None too bad, but I think it's slooooowly replacing 'Aditya' at my fav names list. People include- Dilpreet's (who's working, and completely out of touch) IIM buddy, who I met ONCE! Had to go for the big fat Delhi wedding (note about which you will find on fb, in Manasi Vaidya's profile), so needed some pro-Delhi tips. He's from there, but he hardly have much to say- except for that Punju weddings should be fun (Fun being QUITE the understatement)...and this Diwali, I'm heading to Hyderabad- where he's working.
Siddharth no. 2 was at the wedding. He'd got hitched to the groom's sister 2 days before the wedding I'd gone for. Complicated? In any case, he looked like Mr. Khamosh from back home, and for once, Shriya agreed (I have a chronic ailment of being under the illusion, and a lot of times with substantial grounds, that people I know look like other people I know. Or maybe I was just missing college too much) Anyway, Sahil, IF you're reading this- remind me to show you the pictures- Siddharth Sr is an older version of you- the same quite, observant, crowd-resistant thingy about him. (BY THE WAY, one of the groom's cousins was Umang! And NOTHING like Mann the Maheshwari)...I tell you, it's love that keeps these two together in spirit, even in seemingly unrelated situations in Delhi. Or I'm cracking up.
Siddharth part 3 is my new classmate (On hearing 'new' classmate, Manasi's first reaction was, "So he enters TY only- and gets the degree all of you do AFTER trudging through FY and SY? So I can suddenly jump UP the ladder?") He looks like Mohnish Behl (which when I told him, he was the first person to go "Nutan's son?"...WOW! I thought people only related him to Bharjatiya films, while I did as the guy who was accused of murdering his dad- all three cases are true...no idea about the murder, but the accusation was definitely made) Kutty (as in Siddharth) is a Mallu! Almost MNS-like of me, but I LOVE it when people in the Mallu quota increase!
Siddharth 4, is a character in the book, The Collector's Wife (not to be confused with Thy Neighbor's Wife, though I seriously doubt anyone knows or will admit knowing the latter). Well, he's the collector himself. I like the way his character is portrayed- so sincerely at work, that he neglects, almost the needs of his wife. A recommended read for everyone- the topic of infidelity has been handled rather nicely- without justifying it in anyway. It’s something I’m likely to do (not the infidelity part)- get so engrossed in my career that I detach myself from most things that matter. Like I said, it’s the way he’s been portrayed, not the character itself. The desperation towards needing to be there on duty, almost like a constant, nagging obsession- that gets me. All the time, like no one else can handle it better. It’s a trait, I think, of possessiveness. Creepy, na?
I’ve been around, yes. More updates coming. Cheers.
Essentially, I've begun to learn to manage my time. Not better, but just manage- since I didn't do any of that before this. Now I read, do my projects, update this page, do my projects, think obsessively of festival names for this new venture UPG's starting this week. I also believe my writing quotient has dipped- I am not half as funny (in case I'm flattering myself there, don't tell me), gawky as I was the last time. Serious stuff (Academics, ambitions, love) get in the way of my sense of humour. I'm 11 days from turning 20, but somehow, I think this time it's gonna be cool. Cold almost. I mean, usually I engage myself in all the birthday preparations of people all over, my friends do that for me too- but this time, everyone's in their final year, and everyone's creeped out. This is including my building lot- Manasi, Shri, Coll, Viv (who never turns up anyway), Deepa and Clarie (Both of whom I miss). Everyone's up to something. Good, really.
The name Siddharth- it's making a comeback every few weeks these days. If people weren't enough, characters in books turn out to be Siddharth. None too bad, but I think it's slooooowly replacing 'Aditya' at my fav names list. People include- Dilpreet's (who's working, and completely out of touch) IIM buddy, who I met ONCE! Had to go for the big fat Delhi wedding (note about which you will find on fb, in Manasi Vaidya's profile), so needed some pro-Delhi tips. He's from there, but he hardly have much to say- except for that Punju weddings should be fun (Fun being QUITE the understatement)...and this Diwali, I'm heading to Hyderabad- where he's working.
Siddharth no. 2 was at the wedding. He'd got hitched to the groom's sister 2 days before the wedding I'd gone for. Complicated? In any case, he looked like Mr. Khamosh from back home, and for once, Shriya agreed (I have a chronic ailment of being under the illusion, and a lot of times with substantial grounds, that people I know look like other people I know. Or maybe I was just missing college too much) Anyway, Sahil, IF you're reading this- remind me to show you the pictures- Siddharth Sr is an older version of you- the same quite, observant, crowd-resistant thingy about him. (BY THE WAY, one of the groom's cousins was Umang! And NOTHING like Mann the Maheshwari)...I tell you, it's love that keeps these two together in spirit, even in seemingly unrelated situations in Delhi. Or I'm cracking up.
Siddharth part 3 is my new classmate (On hearing 'new' classmate, Manasi's first reaction was, "So he enters TY only- and gets the degree all of you do AFTER trudging through FY and SY? So I can suddenly jump UP the ladder?") He looks like Mohnish Behl (which when I told him, he was the first person to go "Nutan's son?"...WOW! I thought people only related him to Bharjatiya films, while I did as the guy who was accused of murdering his dad- all three cases are true...no idea about the murder, but the accusation was definitely made) Kutty (as in Siddharth) is a Mallu! Almost MNS-like of me, but I LOVE it when people in the Mallu quota increase!
Siddharth 4, is a character in the book, The Collector's Wife (not to be confused with Thy Neighbor's Wife, though I seriously doubt anyone knows or will admit knowing the latter). Well, he's the collector himself. I like the way his character is portrayed- so sincerely at work, that he neglects, almost the needs of his wife. A recommended read for everyone- the topic of infidelity has been handled rather nicely- without justifying it in anyway. It’s something I’m likely to do (not the infidelity part)- get so engrossed in my career that I detach myself from most things that matter. Like I said, it’s the way he’s been portrayed, not the character itself. The desperation towards needing to be there on duty, almost like a constant, nagging obsession- that gets me. All the time, like no one else can handle it better. It’s a trait, I think, of possessiveness. Creepy, na?
I’ve been around, yes. More updates coming. Cheers.
My super-secret extended-ninja-best friends
To make this the most obvious post, this is for the eyes of everyone, and for the attention of three people.
1. Is the Ninja part of it. She's hilarious, cute, amazingly retarded, possess no amount of attitude whatsoever, and is the world's most verbose chick. She could feature on the cover of Cosmo, Tintin and Archies at once. Her habits ("Duuuuude!", Snow Patrol, "I CAN'T speak hindi yaa!", "We're talking about such INANE stuff...") have attached themselves to me. I love her bwahahahaing.
I just miss her a lot right now, and if she does read this, I hope she revives that derangedpandabear blog of hers.
2. Is best friends. Bloody lawyer. Born to blab and argue. Makes crazy Chinese Smiley from icons he gets godknowswhere. Says the most sane things. Is online (yes, except for one time this vacation, I haven't met him in 5 years) at the most required hours, especially in times of distress (not damsel am I a) and can blah blah blah his way out of anything. Never thought I'd be overruled in most of my arguments, but yeah- that's him. Kapdap. Woooohooo Long distance nutcase :P
3. Extended me. As queer as it sounds, he's like an alter ego thingy now, so when I'm talking to this one, it's more like talking to myself. Writerfolk, camerapeople, bandaddicts. Loooooooong time no see's ALL the time, and we could walk right past each other 5 times a day. Has inspired volatile rage, absolute calm, and headsplitting laughter. Someone who just gets it, needn't try hard. To hell with the world, always on his own track. And I like it that way. Undefined. My fav to him- you're you, I'm me. (Ok at least come more often on gtalk! Abandoning fb does NOT include stepping into yapping-abyss!)
That's it :P
1. Is the Ninja part of it. She's hilarious, cute, amazingly retarded, possess no amount of attitude whatsoever, and is the world's most verbose chick. She could feature on the cover of Cosmo, Tintin and Archies at once. Her habits ("Duuuuude!", Snow Patrol, "I CAN'T speak hindi yaa!", "We're talking about such INANE stuff...") have attached themselves to me. I love her bwahahahaing.
I just miss her a lot right now, and if she does read this, I hope she revives that derangedpandabear blog of hers.
2. Is best friends. Bloody lawyer. Born to blab and argue. Makes crazy Chinese Smiley from icons he gets godknowswhere. Says the most sane things. Is online (yes, except for one time this vacation, I haven't met him in 5 years) at the most required hours, especially in times of distress (not damsel am I a) and can blah blah blah his way out of anything. Never thought I'd be overruled in most of my arguments, but yeah- that's him. Kapdap. Woooohooo Long distance nutcase :P
3. Extended me. As queer as it sounds, he's like an alter ego thingy now, so when I'm talking to this one, it's more like talking to myself. Writerfolk, camerapeople, bandaddicts. Loooooooong time no see's ALL the time, and we could walk right past each other 5 times a day. Has inspired volatile rage, absolute calm, and headsplitting laughter. Someone who just gets it, needn't try hard. To hell with the world, always on his own track. And I like it that way. Undefined. My fav to him- you're you, I'm me. (Ok at least come more often on gtalk! Abandoning fb does NOT include stepping into yapping-abyss!)
That's it :P
No I won't.
My fascination with the Heer-Ranjha duo will never end. Not this way, at least.
I was sure I'll get over Heer, too. Stop dressing my mind up like the lover who'll wait till the end of eternity, who'll brave the odds and refuse to look at any man who isn't her Ranjha.
I'm almost sure all the time.
Shucks.
Turns out reality (or the world you people claim to live in) has plans of its own.
As much as I try to live out of it, by the way, it has ways of magnetically dragging me into its chain of unfortunate events.
Like recently, when I thought I fell in love.
Edward Cullens of the world, you ought to hide in embarrassment- my Ranjha turned out to be twice better than all of you put together, of course- he doesn't know.
That's the funda with me- I can't tell what I feel. Crushes, yes- all my friends will know about them. But I superstitiously guard the loves of my life. Only the privileged circle of friends (in my case that'd be Manasi, Shriya, Rishanka, Srinath, Renu and Trup) Otherwise, they'll be miles away from the public eye. I'll hardly be seen hanging out with them- it'll be obvious by my tomato red face and the absolute loss of sense in my vocab when I am with unidentified talking object that something's cooking. Moreover, I always am better prepared when i have comebacks ready in my head and you-don't-know-who says something that I predict he will. So that takes a lot of thinking.
Plus, if you like him, what the hell is there to say.
Imagine a conversation that goes like-
"Hey wassup"
"Nothing much (inevitably- it'll be a leap in mankind's vocab and in global chat history if someone comes up with a different AND sensible reply to wassup) You tell me"
"Aah actually there's something I needed to tell you"
"huh?"
"I dunno"
"?
go on"
"I like you"
"Oh that
I like you too
what do u have to tell me?"
(if our heroic revealer of one's own dark secrets hasn't died of being popat'd yet, our conversation will continue like...)
"that's what i had to tell you
I like you
Like, 'like' like you"
"Oh"
*Beep is offline*(when it actually wants to say- *You scared beep offline. You had it going so good, you smartass, happy messing up day. Now if you're lucky enough, he won't sprint the other way when he sees you the next time, but that's only because there's a wall on the other three sides. If there isn't one on even one, say buhbye to your love, loser*
Imagine a conversation on those lines. So, sirs and madams, I'm happily (or otherwise) out of the go-tell loop. For reasons like these, and beyond.
To add to the embarrassment, there's your gang of giggly friends(guys included) who'll hoot whenever you and Beep are in a radius of 30 mts of one another. So as much as they mean you good, regardless of how they are or whether they are connected with either Beep or you, you have to face the ooooohs and the aaaahs, and you can't even look at Beep to say, 'Hey, relax- I don't mean this/Dude I didn't start this/On the count of three, we run the other way/Uhmmmm sorry about this/etc'
And besides. I have embarrassing tendencies to be loud, intelligent, unpretty- and on the whole ungirly. Stuff that's ok when you're a guy, you know. But yeah, I'm the ugly Betty in most cases (mind you, I'm as proud).
This time, is as different as the other times.
In the beginning, it's like, ok, you exist. Then we get talking.
And talking. Talking talking (and more and more and more...) talking.
And then we shut up. That's fun- shutting up when the world expects you to be talking. Happens all the time.
I'll tell you about one crush of mine.
Or not. Whatever man.
If this note gets pasted of facebook, I'm dead meat. So I've pruned it to be facebook friendly.
Because really, I'd rather have a guy who knows I love him without being told, than one who'd believe it only after I've spelled it out to him.
Cheers.
I was sure I'll get over Heer, too. Stop dressing my mind up like the lover who'll wait till the end of eternity, who'll brave the odds and refuse to look at any man who isn't her Ranjha.
I'm almost sure all the time.
Shucks.
Turns out reality (or the world you people claim to live in) has plans of its own.
As much as I try to live out of it, by the way, it has ways of magnetically dragging me into its chain of unfortunate events.
Like recently, when I thought I fell in love.
Edward Cullens of the world, you ought to hide in embarrassment- my Ranjha turned out to be twice better than all of you put together, of course- he doesn't know.
That's the funda with me- I can't tell what I feel. Crushes, yes- all my friends will know about them. But I superstitiously guard the loves of my life. Only the privileged circle of friends (in my case that'd be Manasi, Shriya, Rishanka, Srinath, Renu and Trup) Otherwise, they'll be miles away from the public eye. I'll hardly be seen hanging out with them- it'll be obvious by my tomato red face and the absolute loss of sense in my vocab when I am with unidentified talking object that something's cooking. Moreover, I always am better prepared when i have comebacks ready in my head and you-don't-know-who says something that I predict he will. So that takes a lot of thinking.
Plus, if you like him, what the hell is there to say.
Imagine a conversation that goes like-
"Hey wassup"
"Nothing much (inevitably- it'll be a leap in mankind's vocab and in global chat history if someone comes up with a different AND sensible reply to wassup) You tell me"
"Aah actually there's something I needed to tell you"
"huh?"
"I dunno"
"?
go on"
"I like you"
"Oh that
I like you too
what do u have to tell me?"
(if our heroic revealer of one's own dark secrets hasn't died of being popat'd yet, our conversation will continue like...)
"that's what i had to tell you
I like you
Like, 'like' like you"
"Oh"
*Beep is offline*(when it actually wants to say- *You scared beep offline. You had it going so good, you smartass, happy messing up day. Now if you're lucky enough, he won't sprint the other way when he sees you the next time, but that's only because there's a wall on the other three sides. If there isn't one on even one, say buhbye to your love, loser*
Imagine a conversation on those lines. So, sirs and madams, I'm happily (or otherwise) out of the go-tell loop. For reasons like these, and beyond.
To add to the embarrassment, there's your gang of giggly friends(guys included) who'll hoot whenever you and Beep are in a radius of 30 mts of one another. So as much as they mean you good, regardless of how they are or whether they are connected with either Beep or you, you have to face the ooooohs and the aaaahs, and you can't even look at Beep to say, 'Hey, relax- I don't mean this/Dude I didn't start this/On the count of three, we run the other way/Uhmmmm sorry about this/etc'
And besides. I have embarrassing tendencies to be loud, intelligent, unpretty- and on the whole ungirly. Stuff that's ok when you're a guy, you know. But yeah, I'm the ugly Betty in most cases (mind you, I'm as proud).
This time, is as different as the other times.
In the beginning, it's like, ok, you exist. Then we get talking.
And talking. Talking talking (and more and more and more...) talking.
And then we shut up. That's fun- shutting up when the world expects you to be talking. Happens all the time.
I'll tell you about one crush of mine.
Or not. Whatever man.
If this note gets pasted of facebook, I'm dead meat. So I've pruned it to be facebook friendly.
Because really, I'd rather have a guy who knows I love him without being told, than one who'd believe it only after I've spelled it out to him.
Cheers.
Rage
Relatives, get out. I'm not in a good mood.
Ok so I'm pissed. So mad, and at nothing that I can publicly describe, that I feel like I don't have a face anymore.
I hate the way people take control of my life- and what hurts, is that I let them.
Just because I don't talk about it all the time, I slip further into that shell that was never there. Sorry to bring her back- but that 14 year old looks up to me and asks me- Where the fuck do I figure? When was hate all about you?When was love so conditional? WHEN DID YOU DEMAND YOUR KISS BACK?
I have to answer her. I have to sit down and cry- funny thing, is that tears don't come anymore. A face that no one found special but adored itself now contorts with a fury that twists all its features so much, it scares the heart inside.
I want to hurt. I want to hurt so badly that this love-foe falls to his knees and begs for mercy.
And I fall to mine and cry.
I want to cry. Please let me cry.
I can't wait till the day comes that I get myself out of this. Suddenly the person who would rather be heartbroken than not fall in love has given up- and the bleak expression of the day award is in store for the one person who she looks to to make her feel like a smile could break the chaos that she's asked for.
Just because a person falls for the 15th time, doesn't mean that you shouldn't still offer that him a parachute.
I was right- I am scared this time, and I have every reason to be scared- my moods, my feelings, my belief have been shaken by this time.
Imagine Pankti Gandhi asking me, someone who was the emotional twin of Radhika of 15 asking me- 'You're moody?'
And the world thinks I just am that way.
No, I am not, morons.
I'm unbelievably a happy person. I live for the rain. I smile at the sun. I stare into it. Now I can't raise my eyes anymore.
It would have been less painful if I'd changed- my soul has changed, and my conscience doesn't sleep anymore.
Friends, fiends, family- they bow down after the drama ends- but that's when the drama starts. That's when I need the hands, not just the audience.
Writers are unbelievably lonely people. I thought I could change that. I'm crippled. I am not lonely- I just can't tell people stuff.
And man do I have arrogance- to claim to want to tell people everything, yet not say a thing.
Where did the self-love go?
Where did you go?
In that room, the other day, someone asked me what goes on in my mind when I get all 'moody', a term I've come to accept as a pseudonymn for Radhika.
I had it figured then- I push away all the people that I want, just to hope that they come back. I test, and I don't believe.
I'm a cynic, and I will kill my heart. That one thing that stood strong.
My imagination has run out on me.
Take me, or kill me.
Ok so I'm pissed. So mad, and at nothing that I can publicly describe, that I feel like I don't have a face anymore.
I hate the way people take control of my life- and what hurts, is that I let them.
Just because I don't talk about it all the time, I slip further into that shell that was never there. Sorry to bring her back- but that 14 year old looks up to me and asks me- Where the fuck do I figure? When was hate all about you?When was love so conditional? WHEN DID YOU DEMAND YOUR KISS BACK?
I have to answer her. I have to sit down and cry- funny thing, is that tears don't come anymore. A face that no one found special but adored itself now contorts with a fury that twists all its features so much, it scares the heart inside.
I want to hurt. I want to hurt so badly that this love-foe falls to his knees and begs for mercy.
And I fall to mine and cry.
I want to cry. Please let me cry.
I can't wait till the day comes that I get myself out of this. Suddenly the person who would rather be heartbroken than not fall in love has given up- and the bleak expression of the day award is in store for the one person who she looks to to make her feel like a smile could break the chaos that she's asked for.
Just because a person falls for the 15th time, doesn't mean that you shouldn't still offer that him a parachute.
I was right- I am scared this time, and I have every reason to be scared- my moods, my feelings, my belief have been shaken by this time.
Imagine Pankti Gandhi asking me, someone who was the emotional twin of Radhika of 15 asking me- 'You're moody?'
And the world thinks I just am that way.
No, I am not, morons.
I'm unbelievably a happy person. I live for the rain. I smile at the sun. I stare into it. Now I can't raise my eyes anymore.
It would have been less painful if I'd changed- my soul has changed, and my conscience doesn't sleep anymore.
Friends, fiends, family- they bow down after the drama ends- but that's when the drama starts. That's when I need the hands, not just the audience.
Writers are unbelievably lonely people. I thought I could change that. I'm crippled. I am not lonely- I just can't tell people stuff.
And man do I have arrogance- to claim to want to tell people everything, yet not say a thing.
Where did the self-love go?
Where did you go?
In that room, the other day, someone asked me what goes on in my mind when I get all 'moody', a term I've come to accept as a pseudonymn for Radhika.
I had it figured then- I push away all the people that I want, just to hope that they come back. I test, and I don't believe.
I'm a cynic, and I will kill my heart. That one thing that stood strong.
My imagination has run out on me.
Take me, or kill me.
Updating for the heck of it.
I like what I'm upto these days. It's the entire, keep yourself occupied deal and man do I have a schedule. Though I'm doing this to keep my mind off its sickening, maddening 'phases', I can't deny that getting my head and life back on track is taking some real effort.
It's fun getting up at a fixed time, and doing things at the right time, etc. The work thingy rocks. Got a lotta you saying you wish you got jobs too, and thank you all for the congratulations you've given me for this one. Education Times is good. The editor is Nipa Vaidya- and if there's one word for her, it's 'cool'. I would usually refrain from using that word, but when you meet her, that's the only thing that comes to mind. The others in the dept. are Ruchi, Pooja and Shubha- who works on the portal. They're very patient with me. I need to pull up on the speed, because if I were them, I'd fire that retard Radhika.
I sit on a swivel chair with the right arm broken. I happened to get it on the first day because it was the closest to my desk (and I have my own computer here it's what I'm typing this from) and it stuck. I'm getting used to it. To my left, sits Faye. On the first two days she looked really upset about something, but on the third she smiled, and now we have a 'hi' routine. Faye by the way, sings brilliantly. Considering that this place has learnt to survive without music, and she's got a beautiful, beautiful voice, I look forward to her singing.
Behind me, there's Faye's friend Elton. I haven't been introduced to him, but you pick up names as they call each other. Faye and Elton are very, very quiet. This place is very quiet. Today I've risked in a 7up. I hope I laugh and add some noise here.
The telephone ringing problem still persists. But Nipa said that most of the calls they get are bogus, so it's best to not answer. However, these people answer their cellphones very soon. So that'd mean that the boring, ancient tring tring keeps ringing, while the good ringtones shut off.
Apart from that, there isn't much to describe. The canteen is quite something, though. I bought 10 coupons for a total of 5 bucks, and by the end of two whole meals consisting of rice, 2 chapaatis, dal, 2 bhaajis, egg curry, papad, banana, chhaas and a sweet dish, I still had one rupee worth of unused coupons on me. You do the math.
But this is a different summer, you see. I'm away from home most of the time, and I miss my lot. For a change, I also miss my college lot. A lot. In fact, I may guiltily add that I miss my college friends enough to make my stomach ache. I, for the first time, am wishing my vacations away (what is wrong with you, I hear 18 years of Radhika ask me). But I'll get over it soon.
I'm writing here after what seems an eternity, so pardon the sudden formal format.
I'd like to believe that I'll be back to who I was, or I'll become something better. But right now, I'm not so happy being me. Thankfully, Shriya, Trupti, Rishanka, Kapish and Sahil stick around. It feels great to have them. Manasi's been busy for the past few months, but once she's free I've got a lot of catching up to do.
My story's in print today, and I'm happy :)
Cheers.
It's fun getting up at a fixed time, and doing things at the right time, etc. The work thingy rocks. Got a lotta you saying you wish you got jobs too, and thank you all for the congratulations you've given me for this one. Education Times is good. The editor is Nipa Vaidya- and if there's one word for her, it's 'cool'. I would usually refrain from using that word, but when you meet her, that's the only thing that comes to mind. The others in the dept. are Ruchi, Pooja and Shubha- who works on the portal. They're very patient with me. I need to pull up on the speed, because if I were them, I'd fire that retard Radhika.
I sit on a swivel chair with the right arm broken. I happened to get it on the first day because it was the closest to my desk (and I have my own computer here it's what I'm typing this from) and it stuck. I'm getting used to it. To my left, sits Faye. On the first two days she looked really upset about something, but on the third she smiled, and now we have a 'hi' routine. Faye by the way, sings brilliantly. Considering that this place has learnt to survive without music, and she's got a beautiful, beautiful voice, I look forward to her singing.
Behind me, there's Faye's friend Elton. I haven't been introduced to him, but you pick up names as they call each other. Faye and Elton are very, very quiet. This place is very quiet. Today I've risked in a 7up. I hope I laugh and add some noise here.
The telephone ringing problem still persists. But Nipa said that most of the calls they get are bogus, so it's best to not answer. However, these people answer their cellphones very soon. So that'd mean that the boring, ancient tring tring keeps ringing, while the good ringtones shut off.
Apart from that, there isn't much to describe. The canteen is quite something, though. I bought 10 coupons for a total of 5 bucks, and by the end of two whole meals consisting of rice, 2 chapaatis, dal, 2 bhaajis, egg curry, papad, banana, chhaas and a sweet dish, I still had one rupee worth of unused coupons on me. You do the math.
But this is a different summer, you see. I'm away from home most of the time, and I miss my lot. For a change, I also miss my college lot. A lot. In fact, I may guiltily add that I miss my college friends enough to make my stomach ache. I, for the first time, am wishing my vacations away (what is wrong with you, I hear 18 years of Radhika ask me). But I'll get over it soon.
I'm writing here after what seems an eternity, so pardon the sudden formal format.
I'd like to believe that I'll be back to who I was, or I'll become something better. But right now, I'm not so happy being me. Thankfully, Shriya, Trupti, Rishanka, Kapish and Sahil stick around. It feels great to have them. Manasi's been busy for the past few months, but once she's free I've got a lot of catching up to do.
My story's in print today, and I'm happy :)
Cheers.
Into hiding
And a very good maaaarning to ye all. Let's get straight to the point- I miss Facebook. And Gtalk, and everything else that my recent decision to go into hiding has forced me to give up. The purification process (I thought 'reclusive' would be a little too severe) has taken its toll on me, and now I spend hours staring the the screen, unable to sign in to chat, talk to all the people I can't do without even for a day.
For all the people who are die-hard Hindi film fans, you've definitely heard that thingy they say about how you should never turn mack once you've taken a decision after scouring the skies for an alternative one. It's deadly true, ye know!
Like here's why I think so... just yesterday, I made the mighty error of signing in to the facebook chat for not more than 20 seconds, and a friend said a simple 'radhi'.
It drove me buggers.
I not only realised how much I missed talking to Dilpreet (hi!), but also how much signing in to a conversation was a lifesaver for me. I need people to talk to me. As much as I try to be reclusive, I've figured that unless I do get someone to notice that I exist, I'm most likely to frustrate myself into tears.
One really funny thing I have to share- when I sent out an sms to all my friends saying that I'd be switching my phone off, I got a queer bunch of responses. While some didn't bother to sms back, the others replied saying stuff like-
Malik- beti u r MAD!!..Pappppaaaaaaaa
Neha- Are you still mad? did I show any signs of recovery?
So yeah, they thought I'd lost it.
Some others treated it like a suicide note.
Roopali- don't worry yaar, whatever's wrong will be ok, just smile, life will be better...Words to that effect. Psychotic me :D..Roopiiii you're tooo sweet yaar! Madhuri D!!
It told me a lot about my friends- they think (or maybe 'know' is a better word) I'll never be able to last a week without my friends. I'm gonna prove them wrong :D.
So in the meanwhile, I was also hoping people would call on the landline, but it doesn't look like they've got any urgency to do so. A little saddening, but I'm sure they've got reasons and better stuff to do.
So for the month, I'm off direct contact on my own account for everyone I really need for survival. Missing the internet too...
(About the 5 line online exchange- slas, thanks to a tyrant younger brother, I had to cut short the conversation online, and coil back to my lonely misery, but yes, 5 lines made my day! So after this month is done with, I shall never put my cellphone off, my chat status as offline or do anything that cuts me off from this place!)
For all the people who are die-hard Hindi film fans, you've definitely heard that thingy they say about how you should never turn mack once you've taken a decision after scouring the skies for an alternative one. It's deadly true, ye know!
Like here's why I think so... just yesterday, I made the mighty error of signing in to the facebook chat for not more than 20 seconds, and a friend said a simple 'radhi'.
It drove me buggers.
I not only realised how much I missed talking to Dilpreet (hi!), but also how much signing in to a conversation was a lifesaver for me. I need people to talk to me. As much as I try to be reclusive, I've figured that unless I do get someone to notice that I exist, I'm most likely to frustrate myself into tears.
One really funny thing I have to share- when I sent out an sms to all my friends saying that I'd be switching my phone off, I got a queer bunch of responses. While some didn't bother to sms back, the others replied saying stuff like-
Malik- beti u r MAD!!..Pappppaaaaaaaa
Neha- Are you still mad? did I show any signs of recovery?
So yeah, they thought I'd lost it.
Some others treated it like a suicide note.
Roopali- don't worry yaar, whatever's wrong will be ok, just smile, life will be better...Words to that effect. Psychotic me :D..Roopiiii you're tooo sweet yaar! Madhuri D!!
It told me a lot about my friends- they think (or maybe 'know' is a better word) I'll never be able to last a week without my friends. I'm gonna prove them wrong :D.
So in the meanwhile, I was also hoping people would call on the landline, but it doesn't look like they've got any urgency to do so. A little saddening, but I'm sure they've got reasons and better stuff to do.
So for the month, I'm off direct contact on my own account for everyone I really need for survival. Missing the internet too...
(About the 5 line online exchange- slas, thanks to a tyrant younger brother, I had to cut short the conversation online, and coil back to my lonely misery, but yes, 5 lines made my day! So after this month is done with, I shall never put my cellphone off, my chat status as offline or do anything that cuts me off from this place!)
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.
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