Chutiyagiri- The Crazy Lady Style.

2012-01-25T21:57:00.002+05:30

This blog has slowly but surely been losing its relevance over the last year. Too many of the people who read it are people who know me, which means I can't talk about real life problems without feeling inhibited, and like I'm nothing more than fodder for conversation. I can't talk about people I know without it getting back to them, good or bad, but mostly bad because I'm brash like that. Also, man, it feels so WEIRD talking about myself while also trying to be so obscure that casual acquaintances don't know what exactly I'm referring to. That's also a good thing I think because instead of describing my sob story in gory detail I'm forced to pick up the central problems in my head, so it has helped sort out things in the past. Nothing's really changed in the last month and a half, I went for the Jaipur Literature Festival and I felt extremely disappointed - what an epic waste of time, given that there were only three or four talks over the course of four days that I really enjoyed. Oprah and Chetan Bhagat fucked the weekend, with all kinds of idiots pouring in to say "Oprah, I waited ten years for one minute of your time", or to maul CB at the signing table. Him and his douchebaggery man, the kind of shit he says makes you want to rip his brain out of his skull and stamp all over it. Tom Stoppard and David Hare were fantastic, Fatima Bhutto was super cute in every way, and Lionel Shriver kicked ass all over the place, it was mindblasting. I wish I got to meet her and tell her that even though I've read only one of her books, I thought it was deeply emotional in the best possible way. I didn't have her book though, and I'm sure she's had it up to her eyeballs with Kevin. The crowds and prices were despicable, but were also helpful in a way - we managed to nick beer, food, AND books while we were there. 'Twas bloody brilliant, as was the dhaba food and the lazy nighttime chilling. Didn't eat anywhere fancy, the bill usually came to less than a grand for a total of 8 people and Fitz bought himself a sweet little helmet as part of an inside joke (something to do with the boys having shots of water in their boxers while wearing helmets in their rooms which would be infinitely funner than coming for the fest seeing as how it sucked so bad). Jaipur was mostly fun because of the people I went with and not so much the litfest itself, but, like every other Delhi University bourgeois asshole, I'm probably going to go there next year as well.

2011-12-19T22:45:00.003+05:30

Given December was holiday month I thought I'd have many fun things I'd want to tell the world. Christmastime and the everpresent smell of rum cake and funny stories involving many friends and suchlike. But it's been a weird month. Christmas is around the corner and it's strange how I feel so disconnected from it. I used to be one of those idiots who sing Rockin Around the Christmas Tree before December even began. Now I just feel cut off from my mother's excitement about her Advent wreath (first time, y'know, she's like a little kid about it - a freakishly religious kid though). Even Jahangir, he got so angry that we didn't put up the decorations as a family. Winter's come really late too, but with a vengeance, saala. I'm trying out rag curling my hair and also pin-curls, because my cousin's getting married on the 27th and my aunt said I can't go with my mane of jungli curls. Except Fitz interrupted my first attempt at pin-curling and then I found that I had better things to do. Pot's back in town, I'm going to try to stay happy, and to this end, I must really force myself to learn to not beat myself up so much.

2011-12-01T09:53:00.001+05:30

I sometimes feel I have my own version of Pot's serial-dating. I don't think I've ever not been infatuated with someone since I was 13. Or 14. And by infatuation I don't mean fangirl-bordering-on-psychotic-stalker-giri over a guy, it's something like a...a period of extreme closeness with a particular person. Rach, Kenny, Joompa, Somya, Mnemonique, Pot, Maida, Papi, Fitz, Budhra. Like a more socially acceptable version of serial dating, I guess, because it's basically having a short term best friend. It also means that I'm, for lack of a better word, allowed to have more than one at a time, like a juggling act of sorts since it's really HARD to be that close to so many people at a go. Maybe this is a more fucked up version of serial dating, because at least that way you focus everything on one person; this way, you're spread out over so many people, feelings and relationships sometimes overlap. Occasionally jealousy and things gets in the way as well since the transition from one infatuation to the next isn't always smooth. I have to create separate compartments for all of them in my head, or at least I feel like I have to, so that each one feels special in its own way. Also so that it feels less like cheating, which is strange but it does and I don't know why. Anyway this can continue another time.

2011-10-30T13:10:00.000+05:30

Day dreaming is fun. Today I spent my morning thinking about how I'd raise my child: legitimate forms of authority, frequent hugs and an abundance of love, and how equality is ALWAYS IMPORTANT. Of course all of this depends on he/she is, but being mine, I'm not worried. There were also many thoughts about Significant Other, playing Happy Families and suchlike. But mostly about morning sex. Speaking of which, what happens to morning breath in such situations?

2011-10-26T12:03:00.000+05:30

Sometimes I do things and then two seconds later I wonder "where the fuck did that come from? When did I become like this?" I like to pretend I'm someone else, then. It feels strange when people are arguing with the real me when my head is already someone else.

I want to be tall.

Au revoir! Sayonara! Farewell! And all those goodbye things.

2011-10-14T00:16:00.003+05:30

I'm trying to take in as much as I possibly can in these last few days. Trying to cram in all those random incidents that have left marks, any marks, on this house. The stupid faces Jahangir drew on the light fixtures; the corner that got chipped when Fitz and I were horsing around with the wheelie chair; Aunt Geraldine; the "you draw one line, I'll draw the next one!" shit that Fitz and Deb drew next to her; the faint remains of the lame drawings that the previous occupant left on Jahangir's door ("YO!", and devil horns, and suchlike); the paw prints Bubby and Blub have left on all the walls - all over the place, everytime I saw them I'd grin a little; "Queen of the Damned" that I wrote on the window sill, because at one point I fancied vampires, then the actual Queen of the Damned and Edward Cullen came along and ruined it; the bloodstains on the outside room from the time when Blub brought a pigeon into the house and Father chased it out; and finally, the beautiful red wall, with the messy borders and the occasional hardened shape of paint droplets, visible only if you stare hard. There are so many things that are going to be left behind with this house besides all of this, so many Milestones of Life memories that were created here, a lot of them to do with teenagehood and sex.The first time I initiated a kiss with a boy, the first time I kissed a girl, the first(and only) time I got suspended and subsequently grounded...Man. 15-19 are eventful years, if nothing else.

Who wants an exclusive "highly coveted" (or so I've been told, whatever) location when instead I can be surrounded by all this?

(she takes getting used to, yes. But then, so do I.)

2011-10-02T20:44:00.000+05:30

Why is it that John Mayer always makes me have these angst-ridden conversations with myself? Kettle was asking me today about why I haven't moved out of home yet. I don't know why. I'm too scared to. I don't want to face all these big Growing Up questions. Moving out, living with friends, slowly graduating to living alone, postgrad-mphil-net-phd - one leads to the other and what if it DOESNT and how am I supposed to be okay if what I've wanted to do for forever is something I can't do, I thought I was a dream-small person, the kind who aspires for things that are actually within your reach. But not everyone is smart enough to be a professor, not everyone is capable of original thought and everyday I realize more and more that I'm quite possibly one of those people. Why would I want to move out when instead, I can sit in here and watch my cat clean herself and listen to John Mayer and think about all the maybes instead of actually DOING things? Jesus. I wish I was someone else.

Sevenhundredandtwelve.*

2011-09-25T19:16:00.000+05:30

Duudes. So I just realized I haven't ever written about this before, which is weird, but it's been TWOWHOLEYEARS of being not single. I feel like patting our backs and saying "Good job, Us. Well done." Things aren't always fictionpress-y now; there's a lot more hanging up in a huff and walking off in the middle of an annoying conversation (usually that's me, shifty looks), but then, this state of Being In Love is a constant and some amount of not-nice stuff doesn't change that.

*Actually not. I'm an idiot, lets just ignore this inability to add 3 digit numbers.

I know this is stupid, but..

2011-09-17T18:55:00.000+05:30

..I'd really love to have a photo like this:

Credit: Selby

Or this:

Credit: snap a booty (fun name, no?)

But if we ever do get a "couple" type shot it'd probably be one like this:

Also booty's photu.

Le love turns me into such a lovestruck fool.

There was this other photo a friend of mine recreated for someone else's birthday, which is super sexy and I like it a lot, but I can't find it right now. Another time, I guess. Life is hectic in second year, there's hardly any time to really think. Only space to go to class, scarf down lunch, run to society work, catch up on work that was due ten days ago. Occasionally have logic class which is never just logic class. Entourage is over, this year is bringing many things to a close and that makes me sad, a little.

Anyway. I should go study for my test, I can't afford to flunk.

2011-09-10T08:17:00.001+05:30

I'm going to God's Own Country for a cousin's reception in a couple hours. I wish I didn't have to, I'm missing so many classes for it and now I find out I'm missing my copper chappals and this is super annoying. You don't have to care about any of this, of course, but still. WHO LOSES SHOES FOR FUCK'S SAKE?

Now since there are 114 of you, I expect some answers.

2011-08-31T13:19:00.003+05:30

So this is sort of like a summary of a night-long argument that Papi and I had at a friend's birthday party, interlaced with subsequent ruminations from when I was less hungover, and thoughts I had while writing. Forgive me, when this conversation was had it was all very up-in-the-air and abstract-sounding, but I can't remember our exact words since there was a lot of alcohol and yelling involved, so just bear with the dumbed down version that doesn't really sound like a conversation. And also do what the title says.
Also, after having read what I've written, I apologise in advance for basically writing one long-ass question, that in parts contradicts itself and could be very annoying to read. But my point, really, is to think about it - question the things you've otherwise taken for granted.

Are you ever aware that you are attractive to someone else? I mean when you already have a significant other. How do you feel when you realize that there are other people in the world who find you just as attractive as he/she does? What would you do if you met some random at a party and you hit it off - the conversation's flowing, they think you're funny, you think they're cute, and the gap bet ween your bodies is slowly decreasing - do you instantly dismiss it because you're already with someone? And why should you instantly dismiss it, because you're cheating on your boy/girlfriend? Why does being with someone necessarily imply that you're in an exclusive relationship that is "governed by property rights" (what Mukul said and Papi quoted) - in other words, where nobody else can tap that? Why does one or two or three short term attractions to other people have any bearing on a long term relationship that you're in? Because it's true, you can't control who you're attracted to. It's never a simple equation, it's a combination of factors that allow it to happen. Maybe the amount of alcohol you had was enough for you to allow yourself to consciously acknowledge the chemistry between you two, and both of you had good days and therefore were in a good enough mood to be nice to someone you thought was interesting or cute, and maybe you both don't like big crowds and so were the only two people standing outside and smoking your cigarettes. Why should you blindly accept society's rigid definition of a "relationship", and feel guilty about being attracted to someone else? And yes, this is like an open relationship. But as I've found most open relationships have a "don't ask, don't tell" sort of policy. But why? It's not like it changes the fact that you're in love with your SO. This passing attraction is nothing but that, so it doesn't threaten your long term relationship or the position that your long term partner holds in your life.
Why should you impose restrictions on yourself? But you're not imposing "restrictions" on yourself, you're making this decision based on the fact that you know this hook up is random and inconsequential and therefore you can do without it. Why? Because it'll hurt your boy/girlfriend. Why, because you made out/had sex with someone you don't honestly give a fuck about? If it is as random and inconsequential as you say it is, why can't you do it? Why is it dismissed without really thinking about it? The problem here is that these restrictions that you impose on yourself, they don't allow you to take decisions independently. You're not going to hook up with this random guy or girl because what you do is affected by what your partner wants you to do - you're taking your decisions as a collective now. And whether you know it or not, you're not two independent individuals who are in a relationship anymore, you're now two people whose identities are contingent on each other. Because if you weren't together, you'd hook up with said random; you wouldn't think twice about it, would you? But most people can't be in a relationship like that. It's so easy to allow someone else to take your decisions for you; to allow jealousy and possessiveness free reign when it comes to Him/Her. People can live a whole lifetime without ever really knowing themselves. Society tells us that being with someone is something your whole life should be geared towards - everything in the world will fall into place when You become an Us; being single is being "damned" to a life of spinsterhood and aloneness, where only cats will love your old haggard self. So we allow it to happen, we allow ourselves to let go of our struggle to understand who we are, because we've found someone who loves us anyway, so there's obviously no real reason to change, is there? You've finally acquired that reassurance you've always craved, in everybody else's eyes you're "normal". I know that in my own case, while all of it makes sense, I don't know if I'd be able to handle an open relationship. Why do I allow myself to think it's okay to feel personally insulted if Fitz were to hook up with someone else? It's not like he doesn't love me anymore. He does; it's just that in that moment, I'm not on his mind. Can I blame him for that? I don't know whether this is me being contradictory - agreeing that the norm is full of shit, but defending it anyway - but I think that right now, I'm not in a position to be able to fully understand or deal with a relationship with no parameters. I don't know myself enough, and I need some absolutes to be able to understand everything else. Maybe since I know that I don't know so many things, and in a manner of speaking I'm "imposing boundaries within which I'm allowed to be explore myself and consequently not really exploring myself", I shouldn't be in a relationship. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and what I want is for Fitz to be mine, and mine only, and to be only his. And at the same time, is that really what my heart wants, or is it what I've been told I should want? Why can't you love someone but want someone else? Think about it. Open relationships are not as bad and hippie sounding as they are made out to be. In some way I think I now have a kind of respect for Rach, even though I know her reasons for being in an open relationship are not nearly as complex as all this. Maybe if she really thought hard about it, they would be. Who knows.

2011-08-22T11:49:00.004+05:30

I love how my Followers count increasing every day, but since I have nothing else to say because I'm the only one home while everyone else is on department trips and Kettle is leaving tonight which is sad, I'll leave you with this: Arundhati Roy's I'd Rather Not Be Anna. Also, R.S. Sharma is dead. I was reading him just today morning, that's weird.

2011-07-27T19:24:00.001+05:30

Who knew 19 could be THIS awesome?
Here follows a list of all the cool stuff I got, and in between I got nauseous because I sounded so obnoxious but I LOVE BIRTHDAYS AND PRESENTS! *squeal*
I ended up getting a lot of purple and red stuff, mostly because my room is like that I think; there was a red dress (very sweet and fruit loopy, I've been told), a red Ikea throw kind of thing (so fuzzy and warm, good for the monsoon cold), a purple lantern and a fancy-looking red shrug. And also lots of jewelry and make-up. Maida and J and M and Rach all got me really sweet gifts; J and M got me a wall hanging type thing on which they scribbled all of our inside jokes in fun colours and things (Kettle said "oh yeah, bitches love these kinds of things", dumbass saala); Maida got me multiple gifts, one of which was a canvas she painted with photos of Bub and Blub and other cats and me, and Rach drew the The Beatles Simpsons-style and framed it. And Fitz gave me a 4 GB memory card with SO MUCH MUSIC ON IT. Also Mnemonique gave me a sweet little dinosaur because we both really liked the cat-like dragons in How To Train Your Dragon, and Kettle got me cute cupcakes with whipped cream and sprinkles - the safest way out of giving an actual heartfelt gift. :)

I was walking around college all day with 3 huge bags full of stuff, beaming like an idiot. I also got stranded in DSchool with a couple of friends where I raved and ranted at the stupid rain which went on for forever. The one time you want it to rain for only five minutes in typical Delhi Rains fashion, but does anyone ever listen to one small-sized person on their birthday? NO. And since I was wearing a long wrap around skirt - the one time I decided to do so - I had to keep holding up my skirt and grabbing hold of my bags which I tried to protect with my body while trying to duck under the one stupid umbrella we had between the three of us. But eventually we got back home where everyone else was waiting for The Birthday Girl (:D), and we ate Domino's and talked and laffed and painted boys' eyes with eyeshadow and generally chilled.

Life is great, even when sometimes things suck.

Nearer my god to thee.

2011-07-13T19:05:00.002+05:30

The death of a loved one is so strange. My grandmother died when I was 15. When I think of her I feel like she's just a phone call away; and then I remember with a jolt that she's not. Some days I feel like she died just yesterday. We sang Nearer My God To Thee to her during her last moments, it's one of the nicest hymns I know. I wasn't really doing much singing, my throat was too clogged up. And then the sounds of the heart monitor changed, someone softly said "she's gone" and that was it. Suddenly 'she' became an 'it' to be dealt with.

She was a cool lady though, everyone liked her. She came to live with us three months after we moved in here, and within a day she got to know every one of our neighbours; until then we hadn't even seen the auntie next door. And was so nice, she'd always remember the names of all my friends and teachers and people who're important, and let me take her old-people chappals with the soft soles - we had the same shoe size. We share a lot of features, apparently. The same straight nose, small build. At one point we even had identical salwar kameezen.

I wish I had been a nicer granddaughter. But mostly I wish she was just a phone call away.

BBC says the average person has read less than 33 of these.

2011-07-08T11:54:00.009+05:30

~~1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen~~
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
~~4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling~~
~~5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee~~
6 The Bible (Like that is ever going to happen. Except Fitz has read it, and that's weird.)
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte (This also.)
~~8 1984 - George Orwell~~
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
~~11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott~~
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller *(been recommended this over and OVER and I don't know why I haven't read it yet.)
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
~~18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger~~
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (I started watching the movie, WHATASHITSTORY)
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald *
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
~~25 The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams~~ (I know I haven't read a lot of books on this list, but not reading this would be SACRILEGE.)
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky *
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck *
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll *(Yes I know. Don't judge me.)
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy *
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
~~33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis~~
34 Emma - Jane Austen *
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
~~36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis~~
~~37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini~~ (horribly depressing, this one.)
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
~~39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden~~
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne *
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell * (Almost as bad as not having read Alice in Wonderland. Sigh)
~~42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown~~
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez *
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collinsx
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding *
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan (Started watching the movie, I'm never reading this.)
~~51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel~~
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth *
~~56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon~~
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley *
~~59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon~~
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez *
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck *
~~62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov~~
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac (Started this. Stream of Consciousness is so hard to read, man.)
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens (Might've read this, dunno.)
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker *
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro x\
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
~~87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White~~
~~88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom~~
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
~~91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad~~
~~92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery~~
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
~~99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl~~
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Asterisked ones are books I want to read soonly. But anyway, 22, chhee. Ma's read 70, Fitz 45, Maida 36_6, and I'm so very very average.

2011-07-04T20:35:00.000+05:30

First one's a better photo of the second layer, second one's a shit photo of the last coat. I'm really bad at photu-taking in the nighttime. But IT'S FINALLY DONE.

*suppressed squeal*

2011-07-04T09:48:00.000+05:30

Enjoy.

Well,

2011-07-03T14:46:00.000+05:30

college is going to be interesting this year, to say the least.
Yay Fitz!

2011-07-02T09:39:00.000+05:30

This is after the first coat of paint. Red Alert, it's called. Looks a bit like we coloured it with sketch pens, no?

But the second coat looks better. Some portions are darker than others but its purdy. And after this you have to use rollers so it all evens out. Also the photo is bad quality because my brother took the camera away with him on some office trip and I only had Ad's Blackberry for to take the snap with.

I HAVE A RED WALL!!!

On Slutwalk Delhi

2011-06-28T15:20:00.000+05:30

Man, this whole Slutwalk business is getting really out of hand. Now that they've decided to hold one here it's sparked off all these editorials in the newspapers with some women defending it and other women trashing it, and both of them are right, but also - well not wrong, but rather, aren't really looking at the issue in a more holistic manner, I think. Not to say that I can - there are definitely a lot of facets of the argument that I can't understand completely. But this stupid stupid walk, there were so many problems with it in the beginning; now that Umang Sabharwal has had to deal with so much criticism, she's had to make the objectives of it clearer and better worded, which is a very good thing. She and the other organizers have, by the looks, of it gained some perspective. But, at the same time, I still think it's a bullshit walk. First of all, they went and shot themselves in the foot with the use of the word "slut". Everytime they have a SlutWalk somewhere a whole series of debates around 'slut' begins, and it's such a waste of time and energy - everybody knows it's not about the word 'slut' - but at the same time it IS about the word. Confusing, and more than a little annoying. It isn't about 'slut' because they're not arguing semantics here - the use of the word is a means to an end. It is about the word because they're using it to draw attention to a bigger issue: the way Society blames the victim every time a woman is raped. No one ever asks to be assaulted, no matter what they're wearing (or not wearing, really), saying, or doing. The point is that this one little word constantly derails the point of the walk, and panders to this pseudo-activist tendency my generation has - this very "ooh, this is so totally cool and in your face in a punk-rock way, I'm so going for it" kind of attitude. In an effort to be sensational so as to get attention, the real issue is forgotten in the hullabaloo the word caused. It becomes a fight for liberal morals - which is an exercise in futility, and, honestly, one protest walk is not going to change social perceptions. Especially not this kind of walk - one that doesn't challenge the status quo in any real way. She explains it much better than I can.

What infuriates me most, though, are the people going on this walk. Remember all the support Anna Hazare got from the "youth of this country"? What the fuck did anyone do except stand at Jantar Mantar sing that Lokpal song? Did anyone really look at what the man was saying besides "I don't like corruption"? Is anyone going to think beyond their own individual right to express their sexuality any way they want to, join the dots and think about women's rights and the state of women in this country? I'm not saying that urban women should not stand up and protest against the way they are treated by men. It's fantastic that finally someone's managed to create this much buzz about this, given that everyone is part of this culture of victim-blaming, even in cities, where people are supposedly "progressive". All I'm saying is that this shouldn't be the only point they're making - this should make women and girls my age wake up and smell the roses. This should be the stepping stone to something much larger than individual rights. At the very least, it should get people (girls especially) to think about the way we ourselves propagate this system of oppression - how often do we use the word slut as an offhand insult to a girl, any girl? Everyone I know who supports this thing is doing so blindly. They are all going to come away from it feeling self satisfied, like they've done their little bit of "activism", the girls thinking they've made a point by showing just how sexually aggressive and therefore "equal" they are, the boys by going along with their girlfriends while secretly ogling the other girls who came on the walk dressed in their sexiest clothes. Maybe there are going to be some people who'll put two and two together; but for the most part, this is not going to wake people from their somnambulism.

The long post, long overdue.

2011-06-25T18:47:00.001+05:30

So Ma finally called in the experts to re-plaster the wall, who kept shaking their heads at the sorry state of the other three walls. They haven't been done since 2007, which was when we moved in, and I only recently noticed how bad they look but it's all chill since I don't care very much and soon there will be stuffs all over them t ocover up the shitty plastering job. Also this whole wall painting business was meant to be a summer project kind of thing, and I couldn't do one wall by myself, let alone the entire room.

But anyway, many things have happened since it all started, and I wish I had photos to document the process but unfortunately I don't have a camera and everyone else I know who has one (coughMAIDAcough) didn't bring theirs because they thought I was being weird and too-enthu. I can only describe the whole thing, which is do-able, I think.

So the first step of wall painting is removing all the choona and loose plaster, choona because I live in a sarkari ghar and they use really cheap powdery paint to whitewash the walls. Taking choona off is extremely messy, I was told, and so I was supposed to wear old clothes, something over my hair and a face mask kind of thing. Fitz and Chit and Radhika came to help, dressed as such. Except we didn't take off choona as much as we took off HALF THE FRIGGING WALL. In some places on the upper parts of the wall, with just a few hard knocks cracks at least a couple feet long would suddenly appear, and someone would have to yell "LOOKOUT!" to those of us below before throwing down huge bits of Wall. We felt so accomplished every time that happened; also, it looked totally awesome - the gigantic cracks and big pieces of plaster that came off so easily. Usually, though, only bits of plaster would fall off after endless hacking in one spot.

But man, this teaches you stuff about life, I swear. You have to be patient with it; you can't hammer the wall or whack it, you have to kind of ease the plaster off, try and get under it and shake it loose. Hammering at it just makes it worse and creates holes in the lower layers of plaster and then you get annoyed and hate yourself and this plaster removal business stops being cathartic then. It was fun for the first two days; it gave me a place to take out some of my frustration and it'd get my mind off of all the crap I'd been thinking about. Then everyone stopped coming to help and that sucked; and I got tired of having to hack and hack and hack away at half-inch pieces of plaster that would just refuse to come off.

Enter masons, who laughed derisively at my pathetic attempts at trying to pull this off without their help. In under two hours those guys removed all the leftover bits of plaster (I must add though, not all of it; only the parts that came off after some hacking, and they ignored all the small half-inch pieces that so annoyed me) AND plastered the whole wall. It now looks so neat and tidy and awesome. I wish I was that efficient. I sat and watched them do it, with the main mason bhaiya telling me that a perfectly done red coloured wall would make the rest of my sarkari walls look like shit (or worse than that considering they already look like shit) and how I should let them do that as well; that primer is only applied with a brush and not with a roller because that would ruins the plaster work; and only the last layer of paint is applied with rollers, just to even the coat out.

Anyway, so now the wall is ready for priming and painting and I'm sure everyone's going to want to come help with that; except that might not be the best idea because, y'know, too many cooks spoil the broth and too many painters will fuck up my wall, things like that.

Oh, also, I tired putting flat beer in my hair to make it more shiny. But I forgot that you're supposed to rinse it out and it made my hair smell and my mother complain and in the end I had to re-wash it. Ah well. I'm happy, it's time to PAAAAAAANNTE :D

2011-06-19T14:17:00.001+05:30

"Why should Caesar get to stomp around like a big giant while the rest of us try not to get smushed under his big feet? What's so great about Caesar, hm? Brutus is just as cute as Caesar. Brutus is just as smart as Caesar. People totally like Brutus just as much as they like Caesar. And when did it become okay for one person to be the boss of everybody, huh? Because that's not what Rome is about. We should totally just STAB CAESAR!"

Yeah so, Mean Girls is on.

I started my wall business. Turns out I need to re-plaster it as well. Sometimes it's fun, it lets me vent all kinds of negative feelings. But it's been three days and I'm only half done and I'm too scared to do the top parts because it's really high up and I hate ladders. Man, this was a really bad idea, I see now. It's so freaking hard, even with everyone's help, but I really don't want to call in reinforcements(people who know what they're doing) yet. Conundrumm.

2011-05-31T14:40:00.001+05:30

I probably should've started painting my wall during this break. Being alone is hard, man. I'm one of those annoying constantly social people, and it's not like I even like people much. So stupid.

2011-05-29T22:53:00.002+05:30

My dad's in town. We came home from a family lunch today listening to Sexy Bitch at a volume so loud that I could feel the "dootz dootz dootz doot-doot dootz dootz dootz" in my seat.

Suchay liberal family we are xD

I feel like an emo-er version of Andrew Largeman these days.

2011-05-23T20:17:00.004+05:30

Andrew Largeman: Fuck, this hurts so much.
Sam: I know it hurts. That's life. If nothing else, It's life. It's real, and sometimes it fuckin' hurts, but it's sort of all we have.
Kasaul would be a nice place to go to right about now.
Also, I was told that white on black is hard to read. Someone, please let me know if this is better.

2011-05-20T14:32:00.002+05:30

The other day I saw Meenakshi Madhavan Reddy in Khan Market. I'm sure she gets recognized by at least one person everywhere she goes. I swear, I felt like she was an old friend I hadn't talked to in forever. How weird must it feel like, being someone who everyone knows but you don't know them? It's different with celebrities, we know of them. People like her, you know her without knowing her. Yeesh. There's security in the knowledge that I can put all kinds of stupid shit out on the internet and noone (except a few people) can trace it back to me.

"You gotta hear this one song—it'll change your life; I swear."

2011-05-20T14:13:00.001+05:30

2011-05-18T11:29:00.001+05:30

One leg of exams is over, Fitz is in Europe, I'm busy watching Firefly, and The Buried Life, and it's really freaking hot.
I find that it's always hard for me to write what I'm feeling when I'm emotionally full to the brim. When I put the pen to the paper (or the fingers to the keyboard) there's this persistent feeling, kind of like a "?" in a bubble over my head. I always thought I used writing as a form of catharsis, apparently that's a lie. Hm.
My pants are red and white and black and this summer I'm going to paint my wall purple. Or atleast I'm going to try to paint my wall purple. Atleast is not a word.
You should play the Wikipedia game. You and your friend start on a particular page, and third person will tell you guys what your destination page is (preferably something completely random and unrelated) and you have to use the links on the pages to get there (not including the ones in the boxes). Whoever gets there first wins. I want to play, except the person I play it with is on another continent. Poo.

2011-05-04T10:35:00.001+05:30

This "why won't you comment?", "why won't you post more often?" argument could go on endlessly, it's this vicious circle of whining, and I've been doing too much of that these days (sorry Fitz, sad smiley). Anyhoo, in other news, I'm basically spending too much time chilling and not enough time studying for univ exams which start in a week or so. This cavalier attitude is going to bite me in the ass on Thursday, and then I'll hate myself for a while and not post for a whole month again and I apologise in advance. It's not my fault I keep finding awesome TV shows and things to do and whine about! Stupid interwebz.
But DUDES, my annoyingness aside, TV shows are AWESOME. Except TIME Magazine's 2006 list was meh. I should try and make a 100 top TV Shows list, man. It's not like I'm doing anything else this summer anyway, internships are lame, why the FOOK would I want to spend any of June outside my room?

2011-04-13T22:35:00.001+05:30

Accha listen, your following me and everything is very sweet and all, but commenting every so often would be nice. It's an epic fail to have 94 followers and one comment per post. Not that all of them are all that great, but HEY, YOU'RETHEONEDOINGTHEFOLLOWINGOKAYIDIDNTASKYOUTONOWBYE.

Dear Fitz.

2011-03-30T21:36:00.000+05:30

Board exams are very stressful. I hated mine, I hate yours. Also that they go on till April. It's the one reason I didn't take Socio. I would've, otherwise - R seems sweet. Similar to N and Wick, in a way. The textbooks look really sad and boring, even worse than the 11th psychology textbook and that's saying something.

So I read Abby Hayes, finally. I should tell you though, I was thinking of you the whole time so that's probably why I think it's a cute little story. Otherwise I'd have felt like an idiot, reading a book for ten-year-olds. She has red curly hair, I want red hair. And hair that's curly all over, not just the top bits. I'm also very hormonal at the moment, which explains why I got all misty-eyed when Abby had that embarrassing fall in the mud. I'm sorry I took a month to read it. You can have it back now, also The Hours because that book makes me feel weird. Suicide is described in the beginning itself, and the images in my head were almost as disturbing as the ones of all the serial killers I've read about.

You're asleep now, or supposed to be. All the time I'm not with you I'm thinking of you, and that makes me feel useless because I have eleventy hundred things to do and missing you is getting in the way of all of it. Perry Anderson is not as interesting as you, The Boondocks isn't as funny as you, Abby Hayes isn't as endearing as you are. Muk brings out the idiot in me who likes to talk about you a lot. You were the reason we bonded, which is extremely sad. Still though, extremely sad things make me grin quite a bit sometimes.

I wish I could tell Ma about you. But I'm scared telling her will ruin what I've finally manage to build with her. Why can't I have my cake and eat it too, dammit, that phrase is stupid. What's the point in having your cake if you can't have it? Bah. Speaking of which, Hazelnut cake sounds pretty good right now.

I have to go now. Ma's calling for dinner.
Love.

2011-03-22T22:11:00.000+05:30

Does being someone's Greatest Love, the-one-that-got-away, make people feel special? Being that one person no one else will ever be able to replace or live up to. It's sad that people get out of the best romances of their lives feeling bitter and betrayed. It'd be just be better we could skip past all that drama and go straight to the 'it was good while it lasted, and I'm glad to have loved and lost rather than never loved at all' phase. All it takes is a little bit of forgiveness.
I've been reading about myths a lot, specifically Ancient Greece and India. Wendy Doniger is a fun writer. If only I could do a summer internship type thing under someone like her. She has a tendency to draw random connections, kind of like she's writing stuff just to fill up the page. Kind of like me. Most of what she says is interesting, though. "Rather provocative", like my professor said. Which is why she's in so much shit with the pro-Hindutva types in this country. Arrey yaar, she's saying random irreverent things about your culture and your religious texts, bolne de na. She's one person. Look at the Da Vinci Code. Went and became a movie also, I don't see any one with any real brains running around saying 'JESUS CHRIST WAS DATING A SKANK IN HIS TIME!' No, that only happened when I was fourteen and everyone else around me was also fourteen. Then we grew up, and realized Dan Brown is a really shit writer. (except I already knew that way back then on account of being speshul and cool.)

Oh, also: Bomb Us Next! This is crazay. Read.

2011-03-16T15:38:00.001+05:30

The answers to most of my questions are found in whispered late night conversations. I like having an audience once in a while. Always being the listener gets tiresome, y'know?

How To Get That NotSoSingle Boy You've Lusted After For Years!

2011-03-13T21:48:00.001+05:30

Sike.

I'm not that shady. Although I know a couple people who are.

I'm supposed to be at college helping out with the debates and hoopla. I was just around to to do a little bit of running around and just sit in on a few debates for fun. I thought debating was supposed to be fun, but man, no. Firstly, not all debaters are good at this, and secondly, they turn into such assholes during the interrogation round. They all get very condescending and patronizing and fucking annoying. Adjudicators that way are much better. I only sat in on single panel debates however, so I'm guessing I only saw the very best. They stayed neutral throughout, and when they gave their feedback they did so without sounding biased or anything. Although apparently during one debate some guy got all up in one adjudicator's face because he didn't agree with his feedback. That must've been pretty awesome to watch, both of them are big burly types. Said aggro debater broke his leg on the way to the tournament today morning. Karma? But breaking his leg because he reacted violently at a debate? He's probably just a chut driver.

2011-03-10T17:32:00.001+05:30

My darling Bubby is in pain. And it's all my fault. I'm just a sucky pet owner. Mother kitteh. Whatever you want to call it. She's reached that stage. That stage. And if it wasn't for my 'oooh, it would be so loverly to have little bitty Bubbies running all over the house and being cute!' crap, she'd be just as happy as she always was. She hasn't stopped yowling in a week and I haven't slept since SUNDAY. I love her, I do, but when she yowls the way she is right now, OH EM GEE I WANT TO HIT SOMETHING. And then I feel like an asshole cause I don't know how to make her feel better. But she's a cat that's despondent because she wants to get her freak on! How do I make her feel better? "We're both in this together?" I was debating sending her out, for y'know, It. But there are eleventy bajillion cats in this here 'hood, okay, and she's a prissy little princess. She'll get ripped apart out there. Somehow my pets always have the worst luck in the world, and I don't want anything BAD to happen to her. And now I've let something bad happen and I feel like moron and I don't want to spend the weekend in college anymore. Sad smiley.

2011-03-06T19:50:00.001+05:30

Cause no one believes *I* could like Bollywood. Pfft.

Maybe the deviantart challenge would've been funner. I just don't have enough space in my head to think of something substantial to write for each theme. Maybe another time, it's interesting enough.

And for my top 5 TV/Movie romances, there's House and Cuddy, because I'm such a total House fangirl it's unberreevabrr, Summer and Seth because I've been watching WAY too much OC, Dave and Katie from Kickass ("If I ever got the chance, I would definitely fuck his brains out" wohmigaad woman. You's a sexy bitch), Walter Fane and Kitty Garstin from The Painted Veil, and Andrew and Sam from Garden State. *sigh*

!3

2011-03-05T12:56:00.001+05:30

How do you have a song that's a guilty pleasure? Is that a song that no one else knows you listen to and if they did they'd disown you forever? My friends know I listen to Toxic. Some know I used to be a Britney fan. All y'all, shut up. She was catchy as fuck earlier. Now, meh. She's so last year.
OOH. I KNOW!

IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF CHORD OVERSTREET. I don't know what it is about his voice, he can even make Justin BEIBER's music sound all head-boppy. And that is one helluva feat, dudes.

Anyhoos.
Favourite people, not including favourite famous people are, in no particular order, *drumroll*
Fitz
Mnemonique
Pot
Papi
MEDHA.

!@

2011-03-04T12:37:00.000+05:30

A song from a band that I hate:

Couldn't decide between these guys and Cannibal Corpse. But at least the latter have interesting song names.

Look at me, avoiding my college fest and sitting at home blogging about it. I finished season 2 today. Poor Kirsten.

Top 5 blogs, in no particular order:
Mnemonique's- how could I not, considering she's written about me soo menny menny times :D and she's awesome.
Papi's- cause I like him loter. And his blog is all arty-farty and interesting to read because I see another side of the story I've already heard before.
Maida's- again, cause she's written about me, and also, y'know, I always know what her posts mean. Gloat.
Debbee's- update, fucker.
Saaleha's- cause she's funny as all hell, yepz.

Also, read Furree Katt's, she is, like, soooo funnaay! *hair flip*

XI

2011-03-03T19:19:00.001+05:30

Hello again. Still not in the best mood. Stupid college. Stupid menses.
But, here's a song for y'all.

Don't listen to it unless you're in a quiet mood. Takes patience, this one. It's pretty awesome though.

Top five websites, what a dweeby question.
LOLcats
Cracked.com
The Straight Dope
Texts From Last Night
How The Male Anglerfish Gets Completely Screwed

Also, if you like reading, here's Hiring A Hooligan. Only the funniest story EVER on the interwebz. Laterz.

DUS.

2011-03-02T18:54:00.001+05:30

This 30 day challenge bullshit is just making my posts very lame, y'know? Yeah, you know. It's just that I'm writing in at least three different places every day, it's exhausting man. How much navel-gazing can one teenager do in one day, that too in coherent sentences? That's just not I roll. I'm more of a, a mumbling crazy person. Kind of. When I'm allowed to be. Which is not very often, most people like to talk more than I do. Hard to believe right, but it's true.

Anyhoo, I'm going to try and avoid talking about college and being in college for the next few days, the fest is coming up and I'm not feeling festive. So. Just so you know, today's top five is supposed to be top five pictures of me, but that isn't going to happen, cause I don't like putting up pictures of me.

I also can't think of a song that makes me fall asleep.

Pretty lame post, but meh. Doubt anyone's still reading.

Omgah, y'all are gonna love this.

2011-03-01T20:10:00.000+05:30

Top 5 pictures:

Ah, lolcats. And what a perfectly formed lolcat, at that.

It just really represents who I am, y'know? Fun-sized, cat-like, and dangerous. On occasion. Kind of.

My own itteh bitteh kitteh. I lubs her :D

Just verry fun. I like this photo. I want it on a Tshirt. A good quality Tshirt. I don't care too, much for money, money can't buy me luuve! Good song, that.

And a song I can dance to:

Who can't, right? right? Dev is da bomb, bitches. Word.

Anyway, since I spent all of today on an OC marathon (SECOND SEASON AND SETH AND SUMMER STILL HAVEN'T KISSED PROPERLY WTF ARE YOU TWO DOING GODDAMMIT GET BACK TOGETHER ALREADY *hyperventilates*) I'm now going to try and read what I'm supposed to be reading(Wendy Doniger, by the by) and so this ends

here.

GIFs are also lame.

2011-02-28T20:19:00.000+05:30

And, like VS, the song I know all the words to is:

COLOURS? REALLY? Gah.

2011-02-27T11:13:00.000+05:30

I reFUSE to list my top 5 colours, what a chut question.

And a song that reminds me of an event:

Beer(mentioned once before, she and I used to be close, now there's we are amiably indifferent to each other) once told me about how she made out with some random guy at some random party while this song was playing. Now every time I hear it I think of her making out with some dude. Ew. And that winter morning on the field when she told me, with a toss of her hair and a smirk on her lips. Hm.

Six

2011-02-26T13:03:00.001+05:30

These thirty day challenges are stupid.

Top 5 Activities
1. Fitz
2. Chilling with Mnemonique*/Maida/Shomit/Pot/Jah/M/Swami/Rabindranath & Co/All of them together
3. Breakfasting at Crepes
4. Reading
5. Movie/TV watching

STUPID.

A song that reminds me of somewhere- Australia.

5

2011-02-25T19:33:00.001+05:30

The last two days have been exhausting. Birthday parties-class at tooearlyinthemorning-NGMA-Bengali Market-Stupid full metro-HOME. I need sleep. And April. No, July. Forget final exams, who needs those? Anyhoo, blah. Not talky today.

Top 5 Foods
1. Fitz's cooking
2. Chhole Bhature (Bengali Market, HURRAY!)
3. All the food at Mrs Kaur's Crepes
4. Kaaju Burfee
5. Chikun

Reminds me of Pot. :)

FORE!

2011-02-24T19:10:00.000+05:30

Top 5 Movie/TV Bromances
1. House/Wilson
2. Julius Campbell/Gerry Bertier (Remember The Titans)
3. Dale Denton/Saul Silver (Pineapple Express)
4. Ryan/Seth (Had to, right?)
5. Ted/Barney (blah. Can't think of anything else.)

A song that makes me sad.

Tree!

2011-02-23T21:20:00.001+05:30

Whaddup broskys. And ladies. I'm supposed to be at a choir thing, singing, but I'm not. Instead I'm sitting around watching Maida manhandle my cat while listening to Norah Jones. I want that voice.

Top 5 TV/Movie Friendships
1. House/Wilson (House MD)
2. Tyler/Narrator (Fight Club)
3. Timone/Pumba (Lion King)
4. Will/Marcus (About A Boy)
5. Will Hunting/Sean Maguire (Good Will Hunting)

Maida has a cool new camera. She took lots of useless photos of me with it. Me and my kittehwoo. My kittehwoo is a cutie.

This song makes most people happy.

Dos. Deux. Two.

2011-02-22T18:31:00.001+05:30

I finished the first season. Now either I'm PMSing like crazy (which I better be, cause worrying is not a good look on me), or that last episode was just really really sad. WHY, RYAN, WHY DID YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR LONGTIME BUDDY? And also, why did Eddie have to be such a jerk? Stupid TV show. Pfft.

Anyway, I know you guys don't care as much as I do. I'll stop. On to more interesting things.

Top 5 Movies:
1. Almost Famous, only the best music movie ever. Ever. "Does anybody remember laughter?" *sighs*
2. Garden State. Natalie Portman is so awesome. Where would the world be without her, WHERE?
3. Black Swan. Mindfuck of a lifetime. Also, Mila Kunis is way hot.
4. Easy A. Only, like, the funniest movie, like, last year! Emma Stone, bruvs. Plus Stanley Tucci. That guy can do anything.
5. Remember The Titans. Denzel Washington reminds me of my dad. Hm.

Also, the soundtracks of all these movies are fundaastic. Except Easy A is kind of eh, the songs sound awesome in the movie, but not so catchy independently. Knowhumsayin'? And that's a Boondocks reference, bitchez. I am such a wannabe.

Oh, also

*bangs head against wall*

DUDES.

2011-02-21T18:07:00.002+05:30

So college is lame and Fitz is now in the middle of major exams and blah and we don't get to talk ever, also I'm going CRAZY WITH BUYING PEOPLE BIRTHDAY GIFTS. SO MANY SECRETS, I KENT HANDLE EET! Also, man, gifts are expensive. Money doesn't grow on trees (actually it does, but y'know. You know.) I've been coming back home so exhausted, I never have enny energie to start on my projects- only enough to watch The OC (teehee). Seth is awesome. Yes indeedy. Anyhoo, because of the exhaustion and since I really don't have very much else to say these days, I'm going to do Tumblr's 30 Day Challenge. Also this one. Cause sharing music is good for the soul. Credit to VS for the idea. Thenks, bro.

Top 5 TV Shows:
1. House M.D.
2. The Boondocks (Riley is the SHIZNIT. F'real.)
3. Entourage (and they HAD to finish season 7 on that fucked up note, didn't they? Fuckers.)
4. Avatar (M. Night is a bitch. Bloody loser American South Indian.)
5. Glee

Goddamn, I'd put The OC on that list, but y'know. It's over now. Sigh. There need to be more Seth-like characters on TV.

Also, favourite song (right now anyway)

So I'm a little obsessed. But just a little bit.

2011-02-16T17:32:00.001+05:30

Who knew a guy who looks like THAT could create rap that is so effing catchy?

Besides that, I've been listening to a lot of soul music lately (I'm lying, it's just one album BUT IT HAS AT LEAST 100 SONGS ON IT OKKESHUTTUP) and Aretha Franklin is funTAASTIC! (Sidenote, my Hungarian conductor says funtaastic instead of fantastic. Her pronunciations in English are so Indian. I love it.) I wish I could sing like Mercedes.
Also, I went and met Spanks (who's down with chicken pox) today. It would be cool if I'm now a carrier of the virus and I give it to everyone in college tomorrow. Just because.

2011-02-10T18:44:00.001+05:30

Duuude. I really need to lighten up. THIS I apologise for. Next time will only be about the funnies, for shiz.

2011-02-09T21:51:00.001+05:30

I had to take a cab home from college yesterday because I couldn't walk two steps without retching. It was pretty disgusting now that I think of it, first it was all solid, like baby food, and then it was just water because all I had left in me was half a glass of sweet-sour nimboo paani and two digestive biscuits. Then it was just bile. Which was light green-ish. Although I can't be sure of that- I only caught a glimpse of it as I puked out of the window of the moving car. Because of which, I had to pay the guy 450. Maybe that's actually how expensive it is, maybe he was fleecing a really weak, really sick-feeling girl and her friend. Either way, it's bloody expensive, and I hate cabs and living so far away from college. It's at times like these that I wish I lived in Fitz's house. No, wait, I wish that most of the time, just more than usual on these occasions. I was pushed into making this post. So more verbal diarrhoea. Am I spelling it wrong? Don't know, don't care. I have two very good friends in college. They make me feel very at home in their presence and because I fucked up and had a paracetamol on an empty stomach yesterday, our plans to have a fun girly sleepover the likes of which I rarely take part in fell through. I sat at home and watched Valkyrie and Salt with Ad. Angelina Jolie plays these spy type roles well, but she's still a schmuck. Jennifer Aniston all the way bros, not either of them mean anything to me or I them. So besides nearly puking out half a lung yesterday nothing too eventful has happened in the last month or so. However, many such things will happened in a couple of months or so, and there'll be more to read than my paragraphless drivel. Which I apologise for. Kind of.

I need help.

2011-01-12T19:01:00.001+05:30

We've studied existential angst in psychology. 'Chapter 4: Development'. It's stupid that they made us study biology as well, I don't see why we need to know how the body develops to understand how the mind works. They could've just added that bit as asides, y'know, while talking in detail about how the way we perceive things changes and grows as we grow. But no, no, learning science is always good for us. Stupid bloody system. Stupid freaking streams. It's all such a waste of time and cognitive space and angst and debate and who REALLY cares if engineers are smarter than fashion designers, WHO? Let's just measure people by how happy they are. Let's just not measure people at all. Get on with our bloody lives and forget about everyone else. There are too many people in the world, the stench of human sweat has polluted the air and I don't want to smell it anymore. I'm not sure how that's related, but it was on my mind and since I'm clearly on a very indignant roll right now I'm just going to go with whatever's on my mind and put it out there, out there in the interweb, the one place where we can all scream without actually screaming. I'm bloody tired. I can't do this anymore. It's not fair. Why isn't everybody else angst ridden? No, that's a lie. Let me rewrite that, why do I have to be aware of the fact that we're all angst ridden? Why can't I just feel angsty without feeling like a complete fucking moron at the same time? And I mean y'know now that I think about, maybe I am going to get raped and killed and my body will be found on some lonely highway. Maybe, and this is more likely, I'll kill myself just so that no psychotic serial killer will get to first. Paranoia is so stupid, so is irony. Alanis Morisette is a DUMBFUCK. And she has a stupid name too.

Most of all though, this is pretty stupid and I'm not entirely sure why I'm putting it up here but it's something similar to people writing RIP(insert name here) as their facebook status, as if people give a fuck about a friend of friend of a friend dying. Don't tell me I'm an asshole, everything can be trivialized, including me, but that doesn't actually make it trivial that just means YOU think it's trivial. Kind of like, does the tree make a sound when it falls if there's no one there to hear it? Is a sound a sound because you can hear it or because it actually is? Though y'know if I actually am, it's a good thing I don't believe it yet. We're not quite wise enough to handle suicide. I think I'd like to kill myself using a heater. Jesus fucking Christ. When I'm 30 and someone brings this up at some social gathering, I'm going to vehemently deny I had anything to do with it.

2011-01-08T22:23:00.001+05:30

I watched The Lovely Bones yesterday night. Not a particularly great movie, really. It was draggy, the story moved way too slowly and the whole connection-with-her-parents-thing was kind of Hallmark movie-ish. But Mark Wahlberg was purdy, as usual. And Stanley Tucci was disturbing as all hell. I couldn't even go to the loo without making ma stand right outside. I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest when the murder scene started, it was beating so hard. So I walked out and told ma to watch it on her own. We spent the evening together, me and her. That was nice, we haven't done that in forever. We ended up watching the first few episodes of the second season of Glee because she hasn't seen it yet and Sue makes her laugh. We watched that episode about Kurt's dad dying, and everyone needing something sacred to believe in. They're wrong. I don't have anything like that.

In other news, I'm looking at photos of last year's conti and all I see when I look at myself is my ample bosom. Jesus. People should NOT take out cameras around me.

First Post Of The Year! drumroll TEQUILA!

2011-01-03T18:35:00.001+05:30

I'd begin with happy new year and all of that, but my exams start tomorrow. It's not very happy, the beginning of my new year.

Ah, fuck it.

Happy new year, whoever's reading this. I hope everything that went wrong last year is more than made up for this year, and that you've gained some wisdom from all of it. God knows, repeating mistakes is painful and just plain stupid.

I don't really make good on resolutions. But I do want to do some things differently this year. Be nicer, for instance. I'm told I'm a rude bitch too many times in a year. Another was to just stay out of things I'm not part of. No more telling people what to do when shit goes wrong, no more trying so hard to fit in to a particular niche. I think I'll just try rolling with things a little bit more this time.

Anyway it's kind of late to do a recap and whatever so I'm not going to. But today someone sent me a photo of Kettle and I from class eleven and I went through all the old archives...It's so weird how things change. People who I was best friends with don't matter anymore, old boyfriends now pretend they never really liked me (must add, it's mutual- just to save face, heh), blah.
I'll tell you what I noticed most though, li'l ol' self absorbed me, I've totally hotted up. Seriously, I'm so much better looking now, if I ever meet said ex-boyfriends again, they're going to want to kill themselves- not that they didn't then either (I was somehow an emo magnet) but this time, they'd sure as hell ask themselves "what was a girl like that doing with a boy like me? And why are we not dating now? I wonder what she's like in bed."

Good question, because you're a douche, and fucking dynamite. In that order.

Goodnight, and Godspeed You! Black Emperor.

It's been a while, no?

2010-12-19T16:47:00.000+05:30

I got mad at my dad this one night when I came home and saw a gash on Bubby's nose. She'd gone out, and he didn't even notice until she scratched at the door and yowled for someone to open it. Somehow every time my dad's around something bad happens to the cat. He didn't say anything until I really really pushed it.

Another time, we were all walking to the market. He mentioned how there's this other cat in the neighbourhood that looks like her and that once, on his way to work, he saw it, and he jumped out of the car and ran after it in full uniform (he's a Naval officer), thinking he'd let Bubby out accidentally.

I'm a real schmuck sometimes.

On the other hand, people should communicate more often, and more effectively.

This Christmas will be fun, it'll be the first that has less family and more friends. Everyone's coming over for breakfast. Jahangir is hosting a lunch. There's also the Delhi Christmas Festival.

I had this audition the other day, in college, on the lawns. My friend Jaa pushed me into it. So the guy who was auditioning me asked me what I was going to sing, and I didn't know what to say. Another friend told me to sing Lean On Me. So I did, and he joined in with beatboxing, and a couple other people joined in with seconds and thirds. It was so funnily Gleelike, I told EVERYONE who wasn't there. Some days are just days to remember forever.

The exams are in a couple of weeks. God, I can't believe the year's already over! I was talking to Papi on the phone the other day and randomly pressing buttons on my cellphone. Ended up going into the calendar- specifically, March 11th 2015. Fitz's 22nd. Weeiird. 2015 is so far away, I wonder what things'll be like then. Ack, I'll be 23. Man, growing old is lame. Too many responsibilities.

A junior of mine called me up the other day, she as hyperventilating (as 12th graders are prone to doing) about college and what she should do and whether she knows what she wants to do and blah. College, y'know, is interesting. It's not a 3 year long party. But it has its own fun. The impromptu shopping/eating out/exploring the city/chilling in Khan plans, the film screenings and guest lectures, the lemon tea at DSchool. The byofriend who conveniently close by. The interesting friends from other colleges who know interesting people who're interested in you. But most importantly, I think, the trust the 'rents have in me now. Something you never ever ever EVER NEVER fuck with. Learning the hard way, never fun.

Anyhow. Glee's over, and so is House, and life is so EMPTY. Bah humbug.

On a nicer note, Bubby's now LOVES cuddling and falling asleep in my lap. Aww, coochiepoochielittulBAIBEY!

Okay well that's not how she looks now. But LOOKITHEPAW. She always makes me googly eyed, the little munchkin.

She looks more like this now. Bigger, yet still unbelievably cute.

The chai is never hot enough.

2010-11-20T22:41:00.001+05:30

Tonight is one of those lame ones where I'm home and alone and everyone else is out dinnering or partying or generally enjoying the cold air and the moonlight. Delhi University shouldn't be so undecided all the time, this year is so fucked up and confusing. The teachers with their stupid strikes, the Vice Chancellor with his stupid decisions, the students with their stupid lives. I don't know, I don't know why everyone likes getting sloshed, hangovers are ugly and annoying and I hate headaches and booze doesn't even taste good anyway, it's meant for old people and men who like whiskey on the rocks, them with their acquired taste and their grizzly beards. Of course not all old men have grizzly beards but who doesn't like those kind of old men? They're generally nice people who say interesting things while they hold forth, nursing said whiskeyontherocks. I see them in blackandwhite pictures, sepia doesn't look to bad on them either. Is one expected to feel some kind of deep sense of loss when an old acquaintance dies? I didn't, it just kind of felt odd that first night. But then I found out she hanged herself and I didn't know what to think, I don't know why and that bothers me and what if you're not successful at hanging yourself? Do you try and try till you succeed or does that one failed attempt make you realize what a horrible mistake you're making and how it's entirely uncool to leave the responsibility of Keeping The Memory Of You alive to everyone who's still around? People said I sound cavalier but death is death is death. What else can be said about it, really. I thought I wasn't thinking about this anymore but apparently I am. It's just makes you feel All Shook Up when it happen to someone you know. Could happen to anyone you know. Could happen to your boyfriend. Or your mother. God knows, mothers deal with all kinds of stress everysingleday, I'm pretty sure I'd be a shit mother seeing as how I'm such a navel gazing idiot. My mother said that, by the way, that I'm a navel gazing idiot. She's got a point though, so I didn't get too offended. I was only mad for a day. One day when I look back at this I'm going to feel like a moron, but that's okay. I'm sick of having so many thoughts in my head, it makes me unhappy all the time and I hate being unhappy. I was unhappy for four months straight. But then something funny happened, and metro rides became fun again because it gives me a chance to enjoy bopping to music and forget that there are things like exams and hurt feelings and other people and a cat to worry about. Meeting old teachers is a weird experience, I can't maintain eye contact for longer than three seconds at a go. I suddenly feel upset all over again. Mogwai is beautiful, and it's getting cold finally. That's a good thing. The cold is good. We should make a trip to Paharganj soon, because now's the season. Also there's nothing inspiring on Campus. Just people who like The Body Shop an abnormal amount and annoying couples and food that sometimes has hair in it.

Now you're here, now you're not.

2010-11-16T16:22:00.004+05:30

Death is so senseless and random.

2010-11-03T20:55:00.003+05:30

I wish life had a backspace button.

2010-10-18T19:09:00.002+05:30

It is almost winter time. The chill in the air is enjoyable; it’s the kind that makes your nose numb within ten minutes of stepping out. The sunlight streaming down on us is perfect- bright, but not too bright. We’re laughing at an old joke. As we aimlessly stroll down the road, I slip my hand into his. He squeezes it lightly and then pokes me in the side. I yelp and he laughs again, only this time, at my expense.

FYI, it's Mol-a-skeen-a.

2010-10-12T19:30:00.002+05:30

MOLESKINE MOLESKINE MOLESKINE
IM GONNA GET MOLESKINE
I'm not just squealing, I'm hyperventilating and doing a retarded boogie type thing and typing and squealing and I'm not so fun to look at because I probably looking like I'm having a fit or something but fuck all that, I'M GETTING THE BEST STATIONERY KNOWN TO MANKIND WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Ernst Hemingway used it. So did Pablo Picasso. And Amelie Poulain. True story.

Also, http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2009/02/24/122-moleskine-notebooks/
I'm so white, my skin should start lightening soon. Shits.

2010-10-10T10:56:00.002+05:30

I need an intervention.

On the upside, the fact that I recognize this is a good thing, no?
So I'm going to stop watching so much of The L Word now.

Also, it's pretty cool how everyone's connected to everyone. And how everyone is so open on blogs and things. Given how much most people inadvertently reveal when they post things here, it's incredibly easy to figure out who they are in reality. Which is fun when you're a voyeur.

Wonder how many people know who I am.

Okbyenow.

So It's Been A While Since I've Been Unnecessarily Rant-y.

2010-10-07T13:15:00.001+05:30

What is it with everyone and only writing posts when they're depressed and angsty? People, I don't want to read multiple posts about your unrequited love and how you hope this is a phase and blah. Too many believe that sadness and hatred and angst will bring out the poet in them. So annoying. This particular subculture, it's like a combination of prep and emo and funniest thing is the people who subscribe to it are actually quite intelligent. Unfortunately they also happen to be complete douchebags.
I swear, 2 years from now when they read through their old writing, they're going to feel like such whiny assholes for putting their shit online. And they will hate themselves just that much more.

I'm just not nice sometimes at ALL, tch.

Also, I'm hooked on The L Word. I'm not even sure why, considering that the plots are all very done and Jenny is such a total bitch, plus it's very soapy. It might have something to do with how all the women are really hot. But even though they're shitty plots I still want to know the story dammit! And Shane is fucking COOL. That's how I'd want to be 24/7. Ok no I'm lying. Maybe just around new people. On the up side, this show is already over, so that's a relief. I'm following so many different shows right now, I swear my head is going to combust with all these stories. In my defense they're all really good shows.

If I found a good book I'd read that instead. Maybe.

Anyway so I was thinking the other day, what would make someone cheat on a significant other when they got a groovy thing goin'? I mean if you're in a shitty relationship and there's this other dude/chick who gets you and always seems to be able to make you feel happy, I get that. But when you've been in a serious committed relationship with someone and you think you're going through a rough patch, what's that about? Maybe the dissonance makes you feel like the two of you are falling out of love or that you're both just growing in different directions. But if you've been together for a while, don't you have past experience or something to guide you through it? It's just such a bad idea. You get consumed in guilt and paranoia and self loathing. And when you finally do get found out, everything you built your life around will shatter, because most people are completely unforgiving when it comes to being made a fool out of.

So then what makes people not think this through entirely and go ahead with it?

Also, Scar Tissue has the funnest intro riff I know. What a totally awesome song. Shit, there should be a whole week devoted to Red Hot Chili Peppers. And whoever who doesn't adhere to it is taken out into the street and shot. Them boys are so totally chill, they'll pass their chillness on to everyone listening. And all the angsty idiots who I like to bitch about will get over themselves and do the hump de bump doop bodu!

Where The Light Is

2010-10-05T11:13:00.003+05:30

It's nice when the reason you liked a song in the first place suddenly hits you in the face (or ears really) after a few years. John Mayer's Where The Light Is is a concert I'd have liked to have gone for, he played all my favourite songs. I heard this band perform I Don't Need No Doctor at IHC once, they were fucking awesome and I was mindblasted. Ever since school got over I've suddenly realized how relative talent is, and that is totally fucked up.

I have work to do.

Three or Four Shades of Crap.

2010-10-01T14:40:00.004+05:30

I haven't listened to instrumental music in the longest time. My hard disk got fucked a couple nights ago- speaking of which, I hate technology man, I really do- and so all I have right now is Charles Mingus and all the random Limewire shit I have. But this is all kinds of awesome, people should listen to jazz more often. And less pop. Also less rock. I dunno, but there's something about both those genres of music, you end up acting very annoyingly teenager-like, and whining about your sad life and how shit sucks and you hate so-and-so and bleh. Too much angst, far too much angst. Instrumental music takes a little bit of getting used to, though, I understand why it makes a lot of people uncomfortable. It's not passive listening, unlike most other kinds of music. I've been acting really weird these last couple weeks, it probably has a lot to do with a certain classmate of mine who's been rubbing off on me. But the that happens when you become good friends with someone, right? Except it shouldn't happen this time, there are lots of really shitty qualities my classmates have, and the fact that I recognize that should make me a little bit more resilient about not picking up on them. It's always easier to adopt the bad things than the good things, even when you can differentiate between the two. What's the point in being perceptive then, I wonder. I haven't finished one of my essays, I tried to start writing today and failed miserably; this may have something to do with Richard Leakey being kind of annoying. Plus the photocopy that I got was tres horribleh, every second page is unreadable. My professor texted me last morning saying that I haven't submitted it and he didn't expect that from me and how that'll affect my Uni marks and blah. He's a lame teacher, he hasn't updated his syllabus in forever, so he's still teaching us shit from the 60s and 70s, I found out a last month that that stuff has been modified four times since. What a schmuck. Shmuck or schmuck? I always sound like I'm on crack when I start doing this verbal diarrhoea thing, without the punctuation marks it'd sound a bit like how it sounds in my head, I'd also be walking up and down the room with my hands clasped behind my back and my head down because I like to make sure I'm not stepping on any of the lines on the floor because I've done that ever since I was seven- it's a game where the lines are lines of fire and you can't step on them or you die, or end up going late to class or wherever else you need to be because the penalty is you have to wait ten seconds before you can start moving again. My feet are small but I like to walk fast so I often step on the lines. Anyway this walking up and down thing is something I picked up from my uncle who does it all the time, especially when he's ideating, he almost walks a hole into the ground, he shuffles so furiously all over the room. Every time I spend too much time with him I start talking like him and acting like him. So does Jahangir. I haven't had lunch yet, I probably should soon. Speaking of soon I'm also going to get an ATM card for my own bank account, I feel so grown up and adult-like. Except the balance of my account will be dismal, unlike that of actually grown-ups. Not that all grown-ups have lots of money, but a lot of them do, and all the ones I know do. Not LOTS, but lots. Which is enough.

I should stop now.

This is how I do, bros.

2010-09-29T13:16:00.006+05:30

There's too much of this self pity stupidity going around. Also selfishness.

But fuck all that, I haven't written in so long, everything feels so new and I keep backspacing and rewriting and that's not cool. I got The Viral last week. It's been doing the rounds in the city, too many people have had dengue-like symptoms that turned out to just be a really nasty virus. I'm generally a weak person, so this completely decimated me. I was in bed for five days, literally. It was not pretty. So I ended up missing the last week of college, and I haven't submitted one of my assignments and this college thing has gotten off to a really bad start, man. I don't feel any love for the place. The people are all cool enough, but I mean it's no big if I don't see them for a while, y'know? They had this 'day out' thing yesterday, which I probably should've gone for- could've at least tried to bond. Also, atleast is not a word, and that's wyrd.

And excuse me while I gag and then proceed to rip my hair out, what the fuck is with all these sixteen year olds suddenly feeling this need-idiotic as it may be-to make themselves heard, pouring their thoughts and feelings out to big ol' CyberSpace in the form of blog spaces? I can't believe how much that annoys me, but it annoys the shit out of me. It's not like these people have particularly smart things to say anyway. Not that I do, but at least I'm FUNNY! Sometimes! These assholes are so busy taking themselves seriously(yeah, because who the fuck else will?) that the only thing they can definitively tell you is their ass from their elbow. That may not have made much sense, but if you catch my drift, then YEAH. Join in with indignant tones. Frigging minors. (sidenote: I love being able to say that.)

The new season of House is out, all this gooey mushy Huddy crap is kind of grossing me out, but I can't help but go all 'aww!' every time they're on screen together. It's just cute the way he says "I said well formed!" Heheh. Except since the show's premise is House's misery, this isn't going to last very long, and that gives this entire thing a dark tint around the corners. Sigh. Ah well, I'm just going to have to ignore that and settle for this until Bones and Booth get together for real. Huddy is definitely funner than B&B (because House and Cuddy managed to maintain their IQ through seven seasons, why the fuck did Brennan go from being badass and awesome to whiny and socially retarded?!) but I get the feeling a Booth-Bones romance will be more fun to watch than House and Cuddy. House and Cuddy will always be better in our heads than on screen because happily ever afters don't ever last on that show. It's awesome how it's been consistently kickass though. Favourite show, hands down. Entourage's latest season completely pissed me off, I swear by the time I was done with it, I felt like my life was falling apart and I needed to have an intervention. It was terrible, I hate shitty season finales that end on an 'OH NO, WHAT HAPPENS NOW?!?!' note. (Wait, there's a word for that- cliffhanger. But somehow that doesn't really convey the emotions I feel, y'know?) Yes, I know, I take TV shows way too seriously, but I don't like partying and booze doesn't do it for me anymore, I need to get my kicks one way or another goddammit.

Oh, and also, they should just tell me how Ted met their mother, devote an entire season to that romance, and be done with it already. These random episodes where you have not-quite-glimpses of this chickadee really piss me off. Not as much as Entourage's season 7, but yeah. Close to.

AND GLEE IS BACK! WOOOOOOOOOOO!

I know dudes, I watch too much TV. But September is an awesome month. I love September. Now I must get offline because if I stay on the computer any longer I'll start watching all the latest episodes of everything. For the fourth time. I have way too much time on my hands.

YAY CWG!

Must. Be. More. Regular.

2010-09-11T11:50:00.003+05:30

I feel bad that I haven't posted in so long. I haven't really written any in a while either. I went out of town for a while in between, department trip and blah. Those are apparently just an excuse to get your freak on and do whatever the fuck you want to, the profs don't even care. They're just there because they have to be there. So they spend most of their time chilling in their room, or checking out the sites. Unless they're Philosophy professors, in which case they might join you if weed is involved. It's insane. Our trip was quite eventful, all kinds of stupid shit happened. I got to know a lot of people though, in particular a lot of my seniors, and got closer to a few of my friends. Had that long deep conversation that all girls are prone to having when they spend more than 48 hours together and are sleeping in the same room. I wonder if guys ever have that kind of conversation. And then came the random spats that happen when girls spend more than 48 hours together.

I also realized over the trip that I have major privacy issues. This one couple hooked up in my room, I swear I could've ripped their hair off because I was so angry. I mean Jesus fucking Christ, use your own rooms to get your freak on, man. I don't need your fluids on my bed. Just, ew. Then another friend read my texts because she was so paranoid that her long distance boyfriend was up to no good. That hurt more than anything, really. But then what can you do, paranoia is a total bitch and there ain't nothing you can do about it. Except make boundaries extremely clear, and explain how crossing those boundaries can result in me verbally fucking you up. Apparently I'm capable of that.

Florence + The Machine must be listened to, people. Also Ingrid Michaelson, she's like a funner version of A Fine Frenzy.

I have two 2000 word essays to write by next week and I haven't even finished the readings that we needed to do for them. Who said college is fun?

To Make Up For My Lack Of Substantial Posts That Aren't Whiny

2010-08-21T17:06:00.006+05:30

It's funny, every time life is really slow I have so much to write about. But when the pace picks up I just stop. It's like my head is so full of everything that's happening that my thoughts are almost incoherent and consequently I have nothing to say. The last few months have been crazy in a weird sort of way. And now that I look back over what I've written since April, there has been hardly any mention of all it, even in my diary and other random places I scribble things down at. Fitz thought that it was very uncool that I post over here only once in a while and even those are very abrupt and inadequate because I got a good thing going here and I shouldn't stop. So I'm trying to write more than three lines at a go without sounding like I'm whining. Also I'm kinda pissed that people are un-following me. Wtf, dudes?

It's been raining for the last two weeks almost every day. I detest rainy weather. Especially when I have to travel long long distances on public transport (well, MOSTLY on public transport). Apparently the only way your bag can be waterproof is if you puts a plastic packet over it. Or if you has the VIP bag with the parachute material bag cover that costs 3600 big ones. It's fucking annoying, every time I have to go out in the open it's never just drizzling, it's pouring big, well fed cats and dogs. So my phone got fucked. You'd think being a Nokia it'd be a lot more resilient- it didn't even get properly wet, just slightly damp. And getting in the metro when you're drenched is not cool, man. I have to stand/sit really really still so I don't start shivering. And because they're in the middle of Mission Must Appear To Be Better Than We Really Are the entire city is all dug up and in the rains everything is all keechuddy and all of central Delhi got flooded. I had to wade across the road outside the Patel Chowk metro station, the water was two feet deep. It was kinda fun, really, but the POINT is it SHOULDN'T have been flooded dammit! I hate the bloody rain, I hate getting wet in it, I hate how it feels when it drips down my legs, I hate how cold it is against my skin, I hate how it fucks my hair up, I hate how it ruins my books and my notes and my shoes and my phone, it's just annoying and lame and makes me a very snappy bitch.

Bomb in a Birdcage is kind of cool, it's a lot more upbeat than the last album. That one puts me in a funny mood. I first heard it sometime in August or September last year, when I was in that 'do I like you, do I not?' dilemma. Being away from that someone for an extended period of time always resolves that question for one, I think. But then sometimes I think we pick liking people just because it's always easier to be in like than not. We're all so scared we're unlikeable and ugly that we grab on to the first green light we get. That's not always the case, I know, but it often is. Especially when we're young. Rational thought just goes sailing out the window while we stand at the ledge waving goodbye, Jesus. Sometimes I think we all just need to stop every once in a while. Take a deep breath and then exhale. There's never enough time to just sit and be. You with yourself, no one to distract you, no one to define yourself by. But then how do we know who we are if not by the references to the people we love and our reasons for loving them? I've always imagined that I'm an amalgamation of all the important people in my life. I've picked up all the little bits of them that stood out most to me, and sometimes I try to emulate big things that make them who they are. Pot's tone of voice, Papi's cussing, Neo's rambling way of writing, Jahangir's quiet mood when he's upset, Fitz's sudden outbursts of affection, Medda's fluid handwriting, Ma's dismissive tone of voice when people get melodramatic. Pot's forgiveness, Papi's chilled out rationality, Neo's introspective mood, Jahangir's way of avoiding getting people mad(or at least being overt about it), Fitz's logical way of arguing and his infinite patience, Medda's ability to make you feel special without her even realizing it. Ma's gracefulness. Sometimes I wonder who I'd be if it weren't for these people.

A Fine Frenzy is lovely. She has a nice voice too, even if it is a little breathy.

Medda came over the other day. We sat around in the evening light drinking chai and singing along to Come On, Come Out and Near To You (what can I say, it's just been a very AFF week) while she took arty farty photos of me with my clarinet and shitty videos of me practicing. I like how hanging out with her is so easy and laid back. We don't have to be doing something together or constantly talking, necessarily- it's enough that we're doing our own thing around each other, even if it's just fubbing and in companionable silence, with music in the background. I imagine all my favourite moments will continue being something like this. Mellow.

It's taken a while to write this. Interruptions are very uncool, especially since I'm trying to maintain a certain flow in my thought process.

Anyhow, I think all of you should listen to Jack Johnson's In Between Dreams when you're back from a busy day and all you want to do is veg out. Lie back, switch off the lights and let the music flow over you. He's the perfect combination of happy, thoughtful, and romantic, and his music is always very easy listening. Not too soppy, not too pensive-making, and the kind of boppy that leaves you feeling content instead of pumped up and hyper. And the best part is everyone can sing along with him.

In other news, I got into the music society in college. Which makes me very happy. Hopefully they'll have practices and other such things soonlike, I need some extra-curricular hoopla to do so that I feel more useful.

Chalo, I think I'm done for the day.

2010-08-15T10:59:00.003+05:30

Jesus, whiny me is so ugly and annoying. I haven't one nice thing to say about ANYTHING.

I has the flu, I'm allowed to be whiny.

2010-08-08T12:07:00.002+05:30

So I know it's been a while and all, but anyway. Birthday celebrations were mostly very sedate, dinner with The Family and the dinner with the family. Very adult and non-omgah-i-can-now-legally-do-many-things-i'm-probably-not-going-to-do-anytime-soon-WOOOOOOOOO!

College is kind of lame. I know I shouldn't be such a wet rag about this (on a sidenote everytime I say that I think of menstrual cycles) but it IS. The seniors are all bleh, and the few I like are unfortunately not in the same department and ergo I don't get to hang out with them very often. They're all very nice people, but they're just kind of sort of standoffish, y'know? Or maybe it's just me. That's entirely possibleh. Plus the societies are all lifeless, except for the debating society- those guys are all studly and badass, and have meetings more than once in never. Except I'm no good at debating, my brain's too all over the place and if my logic was actually used in the Real World and not just in my head, we'd all be in serious trouble. The music society is lying low for some idiotic reason, but apparently the auditions are coming up sometime soon. I should start practicing.

My classmates are fun though, they're nice people. But I secretly like the Philosophy bunch better than my lot. They're so much more chilled out and I just resonate better with them. And I don't WANT to sound whiny and sulky about it, they're all funny nice people, but mine classmates, they're all very let's-hangout-at-Hookah/Mocha/Khan/hoopla. I'm more of a lets-go-someplace-cheap. Which the Philo crowd rolls with very easily, and these guys, not so much. I guess it'll grow on them though, it's only the first year after all. But I mean whatever. I should stop acting like I'm not an elitist, I totally am, I'm just not proud of it.

What's worst about college though is that I rarely get to hang with Medda and Papi. Makes me sad.

I'M EIGHTEEN TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!

2010-07-25T17:21:00.005+05:30

Someone from college asked me the other day, 'Are you one of those people who get irrationally excited about birthdays?'

HELLS YEAH, clearly. :)

Also, the black hole is getting bigger. Soon my entire screen will be a black hole. Hopefully I won't get pulled into it anytime soon. What's the fun in turning eighteen and disappearing into zero space less than 48 hours later?

Anyhow, go ahead, leave me birthday wishes and have cake/beer/candy/chikun in my honour, y'all. Whoever said Mondays are depressing has clearly never met me :D

2010-07-18T22:14:00.004+05:30

The lower right hand corner of my computer is a black hole.

So THAT'S why I haven't written anything worth showing to the world in a while.

Really really.

Someday, I'm going to go back.

2010-07-07T13:12:00.003+05:30

If there's one place I'd like to die, this is it.

Honest Scrap award

2010-06-28T16:53:00.006+05:30

“This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.”

From Atrisa. I'm so flattered and honoured and all that jazz, A.

Anyhoo, here's how it goes, apparently-

Some rules of the game
a) Show off your honesty(and modesty) by thanking the person who gave you the award and link to their post.
b) List 10 honest things about yourself. Cheating makes you lame, so just play along, all you taggees.

c) Select 7 other bloggers you think deserve this award and pass it on to them.
d) Notify said bloggers about the award and invite them to be the honest ones next. Ooh, I'm sure they'd love that.

So here goes I guess.

I peed in bed when I was 15. It's not my fault I don't have bladder control when I have dreams about fountains and towels with gloriously frothy flushes and other things that make gush-y sounds, alright. It works fine otherwise, even when not sober, so stop laughing.
I turn people into phone addicts. It's very very unhealthy, more for me than the other person, because people who aren't previously hooked have only me to talk to mostly, whereas I have eleventy hundred addicts I made(or who made me) before said noob addict came on to the scene. It's exhausting sometimes, I swear.
There are so many movies on my hard disk, everytime I want to watch one I can never decide which one to watch and then I give up and go to sleep instead. Or pick up the phone.
I don't like wearing socks.
My feet, ergo, are pretty dirty.
Most of my first times have been mistakes. First time getting drunk, first kiss, first boyfriend.
I play Freecell OBSESSIVELY.
I spent a whole summer reading about serial killers. Also watched Ted Bundy movies. Also Ted Bundy documentaries.
I have the most useless pair of copper coloured heels, I don't even know why I bought them. Now I have to have formal clothes only in earthy tones. 'Cause I can't pull off the teenybopper look.
My kitty is the most beautiful kitty on the planet.

Now Tagging:
Chunky
Trillian
Joompa
Thresia
Mnemonique
VelocityGirl
Vera

Happy Revealing, y'all.

This is me gloating, just fyi.

2010-06-27T14:15:00.002+05:30

Ramjas, Stephens, LSR, also maybe Hindu, Kirori Mal and Hansraj.

Spoiled for choices, I am.

Too much only.

Setchurday is too far away, Fitz.

2010-06-25T12:28:00.007+05:30

I hate it when people aren't here.

There were lots of things I wanted to do this week. Hang with Chunky before she leaves on Sunday. Finish reading Alex Rutherford, start on everything else I picked up from Padre's last week. At the very least, it would've helped with my interview. Sit back and let Oren Lavie wash over me like a light drizzle of cool water. Watch the change in weather through my window.

It was meant to be a week of unwinding. 'Downtime', always sounds so delicious.

Didn't really work out that way.

In other news, wtf is AIESEC, and why do I feel it's suspiciously cult-like? This one friend of mine on fub has AIESEC aaaall over her stupid page, as her employer, as her email id, even in that little box they give you under your picture to write something random-yet-interesting about you. Also, the AIESEC site only tells you about all the awesome things it has done in the last so many years, and how it's ALL over the world and is the largest student driven organisation, without telling you jackshit about what it actually is. The AIESEC Delhi University site is quite the same.

It's just, y'know. A little bit creepy.

Just a little though.

I have another interview tomorrow, and hopefully it'll work out. Because in the very depths of my heart, I am a fucked up prissy little princess.
And since this is the only place I can say it that's public, khatta grapes and ass-takers, fuck off.

For To Tell You I'm Still Around And Want Comments.

2010-06-19T11:28:00.003+05:30

Tomorrow is my Stephen's interview. My mother is more anxious than I am. Not that I'm anxious at all, so that doesn't mean too much really.

Y'know there's something about blogging about happy times- it kinda totally fucks it up. It's like Karma saying 'Hey hey, you've made your happiness and the reason for it public? Well that won't do, it won't do at all. Now excuse me while I pull your heart out of your ass and have it for dinner, thus making you feel like a total tard for pulling a Tom Cruise.'

I wish had other profundity to tell y'all about, but Bubby's kitty litter wasn't cleaned for the whole week I wasn't here, which totally pissed me off and grossed me out (I swear, I could TASTE the urine. Blech.) and besides that, there isn't too much going on besides the daily hullabaloo.

Chunky is leaving in a week, and that makes me sad.

I don't have anything else to say about that. Yet.

"Say thank you Gilbert." "Thank you."

2010-06-01T13:43:00.007+05:30

Admissions are such a bitch. Especially this CATE shit, man, I'm just frickin' glad my mother has people who can get her stuff done for her- well in this case, my stuff for me. Otherwise we wouldn't have gotten that DD from SBI, and shit would have hit the ceiling, the walls, and every other available surface. Anyway, everything that could go wrong yesterday, went wrong. What a lame day. And my CATE application might even get rejected. But fuck all that, I figure if I'm going to do English at all, I should do it in a place like Stephens. I still can't decide between History and English. It makes sense to wait until the cutoffs come out, and then find out where I can get in for what, but I don't want to wait until then to figure it out. I want to sort it out NOW. Such confoozun I cannot stand. Papi said I should feel good about it though, because both options are pretty good, so there isn't really a 'right' or 'wrong' decision. Except the problem is sorting out both college AND course. I'd pick course over college, but enough people have pointed out that picking Ramjas when I have Stephens open to me is fucking retarded. Gah, screw this stupid elitist college and it's frickin Christian quota. Also the fact that there are already a couple of family members in there. Sharing stomping grounds is so not my style. Decisions, decisions, decisions. SuchayPAIN.

Oh, and also, people who say 'congo' and 'congs' should be taken out into the street and SHOT. You have a QWERTY keyboard for a reason, assholes.

In other news, I've decided Lady GaGa is the shiznit. If I ever have to audition for anything, I'm going to sing the acoustic version of Poker Face. It's so Broadway and fun! Also, hard as hell to sing. I sound all weak and un-attitudinal, which is sad seeing as how this song requires a very attitudinal voice. And fuck all of you elitist douchebags who're gonna maaro your 'omgah, mainstream music is so like, lame' lines on me, you're all full of shit the same way Stephens is full of shit, anyway.

2010-05-22T11:47:00.004+05:30

91.5% best of four, and I topped History.

Get Up Awn THIS!

2010-05-20T20:21:00.004+05:30

So the problem is, these days I'm either listless and all wilted because of this fucked up heat, or I'm busy with Glee. That show has inspired me. I shit you not. I spend almost a quarter of the day just singing now. This only means good things- I'm getting back to exercising my voice more than once a week, which is what I did all of last year, and even then only kinda sorta. But holy shit man, that chickadee who plays Rachel Berry has one helluva voice, her and Mercedes. DAMN.

My results come out tomorrow. Earlier the plan was to not check, and just give my roll number to whoever wanted them. But right now I feel like the geeky kid in class, the one who studies really hard for a test and then waits eagerly for the result because they want to know how well they've done. There'll probably be an internal tussle tomorrow morning over this. Round table conference with Ethel and Estelle. Although they're both quite useless when it comes to academic stuff. Bleah.

Alright I'm gonna go sing along with more Glee songs. They are so catchy, it's like I'm a bee and they're honey. I swayres. I'll see y'all on the other side, amigos.

2010-05-19T17:29:00.003+05:30

Everyday I wake up thinking 'today, I'm going to sit my ass down, and I'm going to write something substantial'.

Clearly, that doesn't work.

Fuck this shit. I refuse to write about my whiny depressing crybaby-ness. It is LAME.

Blue Eyed and Abnormally-Large Eared

2010-05-06T08:33:00.005+05:30

The newest family member. Her name is Sillabub Skimbleshanks. Bubby for short. She still hasn't been completely weaned, and she mewls instead of meowing. She's just about mastered walking, and she hops like a bunny when she tries to run. And her hind legs veer to the right when she's running really hard, then she looks like a crab.

Also, she's absolutely adorable :)

So she's eaten up most of my free time- she's just about five weeks old, so she's at that 'Ooh, little spaces behind fridges and cupboards and-HEY, SLIPPERS!' stage. Which in non-Poe lingo translates to curious and easily excitable. It's exhausting making sure she's always out of harm's way- plus she's TINY, so she gets lost real easy. And for a five-week-old, man, she does a LOT of pee. She peed on my bed once, the stain was three times her size. Jeez. It's abNORMAL. And since she isn't completely weaned yet, she has to be coaxed into lapping milk and eating solid food. She also wakes up at 5 in the morning, and insists that I should too. So now I'm all sleep deprived and unexcitable and unfunny.
But happy. Quite happy.

Oooh, summer lurve.

2010-04-23T09:37:00.004+05:30

Rum Bum, my girl, what I wouldn't give to stand on my terrace and sing to the full moon about people who want it all, while I don't, want nothin' at all! Complete with all the right facial expressions and hand gestures. I'm pretty sure I'd wake up a couple people and scare the Mama Kitteh though. Maybe not the best idea.
The helium balloons that I had in my room are now all droopy and sad. They were so perky yesterday. They made me so happy, they did. Two pink balloons, named Chumba and Wumba.
Pink, gets me high as a kite!
I'm not feeling particularly introspective or reflective or any of that, because it's 9.50 in the morning, and I feel wonderfully lazy and chilled out because the purple in my room is lovely, as are the dark blue curtains in the living room. All this colour coordinatedness in my house is just awesome. And when it's three in the afternoon and the sun streams into my room, the floor reflects the purple curtains and everything has a purplish tinge to it. Purple Haze, Jahangir calls it. The best part is now the entire house is generally very dark and cool. It's good for my head, I think. Prevents me from getting too up in it. Corinne Bailey Rae just adds to it.
Summer came like cinnamon, so sweet, little girls double-dutch on the concrete.
I will stop with the rambling now. Seems I haven't been able to write anything worthwhile in almost two weeks. Ah well. The fizz, it bubbles enticingly. Must skedaddle.

2010-04-14T22:32:00.003+05:30

I wish I could fast forward to the future. Make sure I'm doing everything the way I'm supposed to. The way I should. The way I know I want to, at the heart of the matter. Sometimes my decisions scare me. And it's totally uncool the way right becomes wrong and wrong becomes right and every time it happens, you can never tell when, precisely, the switcheroo took place. I'm scared I'll fuck up and someone will get ruined beyond repair, I'm scared I'll get hurt again, I'm scared of far too many things. I should stop being so self interested. And saying "I" so much. Ego is a real bitch. I think I'd like it if my ego lived in my right pinkie. Then I could cut it off and throw it far far away and everything would be alright. I don't have particularly attractive hands anyway.

So Long And Thanks For All Teh Noms.

2010-04-05T11:14:00.007+05:30

Feelings of futility are the worst kind of feelings. It's the kind of emotion that makes me want to jump out of my body and run in the opposite direction screaming bloody murder. I can deal with it when it's about me. Then I just need to sit alone and brood for a while, play game after game of Freecell(because I am a compulsive player, it's almost abnormal), listening to music that fits the mood, giving monosyllabic answers to anyone who asks me what's wrong and avoiding phone calls. It passes after a couple hours. But when it's to do with someone else, man, it drives me insane. I can't stand it, I can't stand it at all. I want to rip my hair out and clap my hands over my ears and scream in my head, anything to make the lump in my throat go away. Because I can't do a damn thing to help, I can only empathise, and what good is that anyway?

Owl City and Snow Patrol are very good for moments like these. They give your life this very OC-ish feel. You know how in the end of epic episodes they have this awesomely emo song playing and they show you what everyone is doing at that particular point-cutting from one person to the next, very smoothly too, like it's all a video for said awesomely emo song? Yeah. That.

Except it's all in my head, and my life isn't very OC-ish.
Thank Jeebus.

Also, Thomas O'Malley(formerly known as Blub) is not back. And probably will never be. That's okay. The sadness comes out of not knowing what happened, really. Whether some other dick picked him up and decided he's the coolest animal in the world(which he is) and is now feeding him all kinds of cat-goodies, or whether he got into a really nasty fight, or whether the NDMC picked him up. Well, that and the fact that he'll never fall asleep in my lap while I study again. He'll never wipe his ass on any available surface again. I'm never going to go to sleep with a furry head on my shoulder ever again. I'll never get to kick him off the bed when he furtively jumps up on it in the middle of the night and tries to steal half of it. He always used to make an abnormally cartoonlike 'THUD' sound every time I did, now that I think of it. That always amused me. Not that I'm a sadist or anything, it was just a funny noise. You had to be there to agree with me, I think. Plus if I really pissed him off, he would've told me so, even if he was a rather benign cat usually.

His food bowl is still lying around with food in it. Probably gone stale. I don't want to get rid of his stuff. Not yet.

I miss that fun sized bugger.

Got Love?

2010-03-30T11:43:00.006+05:30

Everybody I know has an epic love story. And I mean, when I say epic, I'm talking the stuff movies are made of. Like the Nicholas Sparks movies, which are insanely cheesy and pissing off, but everyone only thinks so because they're so unbelievable and never-gonna-happen-in-real-life-ish, but they're totally what everyone secretly wants. THAT kind of epic. They're also very awesome to listen to. Not the end bits, so much- endings are sad. And endings for real life stories are always sad, because 'happily ever after' is not applicable- real life stories with happily ever afters kind of trail off, they don't end, y'know? And my friends are great story tellers. They'll make you gasp, and go 'aww!', and feel bad, and yell in indignant tones at all the right moments, and they'll make you beg them to finish it in one sit-down, good and proper, and not leave you at cliffhangers. Or maybe I'm just a good audience. Either way, I get sucked into it, and it becomes like this alternate reality that I'm part of. But then when they get to the end, that's when I suddenly get pulled back into being me. It stops being this fantastic unreal story, and they start to meander down memory lane, reliving memories that can't be seen or explained to a third party; the conversation becomes stilted and I feel like an accidental voyeur, and like I should make a quick exit stage left. Very uncomfortable feeling, that.
Especially when it happens with people you're particularly close to. It's like there's the two of you, and the ocean of experiences you share. And you're swimming in it together, in sync with each other. But then, when the other person starts talking about a past that you don't share with them, it's like they've disappeared into a whole other ocean that you can see, but you can't swim in. And because you don't have a similar past that you can safely retreat into when this happens, you're left treading water in the first one, with this neither-here-nor-there kind of feeling. It's one of the oddest feelings I know.

Talking of epic love stories, though, I've always wanted one of those. Of course, there was a point I got totally pissed off(because at the end of the day, I am a girl after all. A cheesy, easily pleased, prototypical GIRL. Anyway) - how is it that everyone else got one, sometimes two, and I didn't, dammit? What did I do when I was five(because past lives are full of shit and DON'T EXIST) that made me ineligible for one? What can you possibly do when you're five years old that decides Karma and the Fates' attitude towards you for life(or atleast the next ten frickin' years, which is a long long time when you're my age), anyway? And as far as I can remember, I was a cute kid. Bossy, but good hearted on the whole, pfft.
Plus, I've always wanted to regale somebody with stories from my life, y'know. Make them laugh, and go aww, and cry. Be the storyteller instead of the audience all the damn time. And thus far, my life's been pretty insipid. I figure a nice romantic undertone would most definitely spice it up.

As it happens, I finally am in the middle of my own epic love story. Where I decide what emotion is appropriate for a particular moment, where everything sounds like it came out of a book, with lots of 'holy shit dude, I wish I'd said that/someone said that to me' lines, and all is groovy, almost perfectly so.

Yep.
All is groovy.

Come HOME, you shithead.

2010-03-26T23:06:00.003+05:30

I think the new look is uber neat. Except y'know, I'm not used to seeing the post start so far up on the page- I would've liked it if there was a bigger gap between the header and the latest post. But meh. I'll get used to it eventually.

Thomas O'Malley has disappeared, along with all the other cats- there are about five other cats in my neighbourhood. There's The Sith Lord, who is big and black, and has piercing yellow eyes, but is a total wuss when it comes to fighting- he always crouches behind or under the bushes and blindly throws his paws out in the general direction of his opponent, the dumbass. Then there are Butch and Clyde, who're these two really macho orange-and-white tabby cats. They keep picking fights with every cat they come across. And they're HUGE. And MEAN looking. They have permanent "Don't. Fuck With Us." looks, the bastards. Then there's a more-white-than-orange female tabby. I call her Queen Amidala, because she and Sith Lord were named at the same time. I was on a Star Wars trip, what can I say. Anyway, she's such a lady cat, she is- she's small, compared to the rest, and she has this sweet, soft 'meowr'. And if she catches you looking at her, she'll stop what she's doing, and turn around to face you. Then comes the soft 'meowr?' and she'll sit her cute tushie down and curl her tail around her front paws gracefully, with a politely inquiring look on her face. Yes, quite ladylike. Then there's the O'Malley lookalike, whose name should be Guiseppe. Or Casey. Or Abraham de Lacy. He's fatter though, and where he has a bullseye pattern, mine is a spotted tabby. They're complete opposites in terms of their dispositions, too- Guiseppe is frickin' feral, he never lets people touch him or come within a 3 foot radius of him. My cat's all sweet and laid back around people and he lets most people pick him up because he's a sucker for any kind of lovin'. Shameless bugger. There's another cat too, except I haven't seen it in a while. It was a grey kitten that could barely walk on its own two feet, and had a tiny, feeble meow.
Anyway, for all his dog-like tendencies(constantly demanding attention and food, greeting family members upon arrival, and extreme whiny-ness) around people, mine cat is badass, no shit. He's smaller than The Sith Lord, Butch and Clyde, but he never backs down from a fight, and he totally whoops The Sith Lord's ass on a daily basis. Of course it helps that Sith Lord is old and all, but still. Young and full of vitality, Thomas O'Malley.

And now he's gone, and so have they, and this probably means that some bastard on the ground floor called the MCD and told them to get rid of the cats- except that they've been missing since last night, and what government official comes after sundown? Eitherway, I'm being a total ostrich about the whole thing and doing absolutely nothing about it, and I don't even know why. I'm a shitty cat owner.

2010-03-24T23:14:00.005+05:30

So I'm finally finally done. No more high school. Whoosah. Everyone else was more excited than me yesterday about my Boards being over and all. But hell, the excitement was frickin' infectious, I couldn't help but catch it eventually. Plus, yesterday was Padre's birthday. And The Mother got promoted(which nobody even told me about dammit, I found out because she was on the phone and I happened to be nearby, JEEZ). So TRIPLE whammy. By the end of it I was so tired I couldn't even lift my arms up.

But this is insane, now I don't even have to actually ask permission to go out places! I just say 'hey Padre, Ma, I's off. Things to do, people to see, jokes to laugh at' and they go 'Go with Christ, child.'

Of course I'm exaggerating, but only a little bit. :D

I cleaned out my desk today. That's got to be in my Top 5 Favourite Things To Do man, I swear. I love cleaning up my shit at the end of the academic year. It's very cathartic. And I come across so much random stuff- Like now, I have a folder full of Medda's scribbles and sketches and written conversations that happened in the middle of English class. I found all my old report cards, and certificates and hoopla. Aah, memories. Always good, going through those. Even if they aren't the best ones I have.

We saw Avatar today, Papi and Willy and I. What an incredible movie, SHIT. Pandora is so beautiful it nearly made me cry. I could feel MY heart ripping apart when those humans fucked it up. Fucking power-hungry bastards. I hate my species, man.

Blame the Crimson.

2010-03-16T10:35:00.005+05:30

Menstrual cramps are fucked up.

That about covers it.

And I keep having these weirdass dreams where I'm this slutty two timer. In one part, I even remember thinking 'is this what it all comes down to, I'm hot for anyone who's willing to give me the time of the day, including exes who have zero self esteem and absolutely no sex appeal, and were what I like to call my 'Lapses of Judgment'?'

Then my thoughts get all existential on my ass- while in the middle of the act.

And the boys are never able to keep up with Dream Me, stupid douches.

Kya Chutiyap.

2010-03-12T15:27:00.004+05:30

My history paper made me feel like shit, so now I'm listening to all the fun songs I can find. And I've suddenly discovered I like linky links. Adds colour to my posts. Don't call me retarded, this is therapeutic.

And plus, they're all awesome. You'll thank me later.

Also, Thank You Fitzgerald, for the six-out-of-twelve. You're the best.

Marianas Trench- Shake Tramp [I haven't heard this song in so long, I swear I was doing a jig in my computer chair when it got to the chorus]
MGMT- Kids [This is just a very groove-along kinda song]
Mickey Avalon- What Do You Say [KING KONG!]
Mala Rodriguez- Jugadoras, Jugadores [Because the FIFA soundtracks are just fuckin' A. Thank you, Fitz and Jahangir.]
The Streets- Fit But You Know It [FUNNY shit. Totally. Plus I always get majorly kicked by vocalists with English accents.]
The Hoosiers- Goodbye Mr A [SUCH a musical waala gaana, shatz. I can totally imagine this crew of dancers falling into place behind the main dude just as the song starts.]
Weird Al Yankovic - Jedi Song [Maybe Vader someday later now he's just a small fry! Weird Al is the shiznit!]
The All-American Rejects- Dirty Little Secret [I don't care what anyone says, it is catchy as HELL.]
Los Lonely Boys- Heaven [Was on Grammys 2005. It is such a Sunday morning song, man. Mellooow.]
Al Jolson- I Love To Singa [I shewr do. Especially this song.]
Cat Empire- Hello Hello [Pablo pablo! *squeals*]
Deep Purple- Hush [Catchy, jiggy, sing-along-y, I LOVE THIS SONG. You gotta gotta hear it.]

And, y'know. Onwards. Music therapy is the best kinda therapy. Especially for crap Board exam blues.

On a brighter note, history's done! OVER! YES! I love history and all, but man history exams are a bitch to write.

And until the 23rd, academics is all I'll have to talk about, which makes me boring. And having 40 followers is making me very self conscious. Yowza.

Unless You're Cletus, You're Not Existentially Challenged.

2010-03-03T19:49:00.008+05:30

Y'know, when I find my blog on someone else's blogroll- and by someone I mean the random lot who know me just as Poe- it's both fun and annoying. Fun, because then I go all 'omgah, someone who doesn't know me reads me? I'm totally flattered! Blushing, even!"
It's annoying, because then I never even know for sure who's reading. And that's what blogging's about anyway innit, having an audience? I mean if you're not going to use that itteh bitteh 'Follow Blog' link on the right, at the very least y'all could leave a comment once in a while, no? Just a 'hey man, I drop by every so often, good to know you're still alive and kicking and by the way you're totally awesome.'

That last bit is totally optional, just so you know. Yeah.

Aanyway.
So when you fools do get around to reading this, leave a frickin comment. Who you are, where you're from, what you do- hell, which way you prefer swinging, even. I dunno, but something.

Now get to it, you!

Incidentally, did you know that if you google 'Chutiyagiri' mine blog is the very first hit? First AND second. Double whammy :D

Fuck, Fuckity FuckFuckFuck.

2010-02-28T01:18:00.006+05:30

This is fucking retarded. I can't sleep because I'm busy thinking about shit that happened nearly six months ago. All the what if's and 'why the fuck did I roll with that, man?'s. Jesus Christ. I am SICK of this. Plus my bed is full of FLEAS because Cat goes frigging everywhere. God knows what diseases he brings back home. Blech.

I really, really hate this. I'm going to continue blaming PMS. Apparently that shit lasts for ten days. TEN DAYS! Well okay I should stop freaking out. It's been almost eight anyway. But this is just insane. I don't like the way I make Fitz when I pull these stupid moody/emo fits. I don't like the way I've been on this dumbass self loathing trip for the last three days. God knows there are already a whole bunch of people who hate me, I don't need to add to it for fuck's sake. And I do not like the way I lose sleep over it, and then wake up late in the morning. It fucks up the entire day. Here I am trying to make up for all the time I spent jerking off during the year instead of studying, and The Man is busy screwing with my hormones. What the fuck?

This whole post is full of cussing. It's kind of sad.

But fuck that, I think I have fleas under my skin now.
Ugh. STUPIDFUCKINGMARCH.

I'm out.

What Do You Say When You're Too Fucked Up?

2010-02-26T10:57:00.005+05:30

Mickey Avalon, I hear ya man.

PMS is a total bitch. I can't believe I'm unhealthy enough to have PMS. Chee. Or maybe Hypothyroidism, like Pot. Disgusting.*

TingTongTikiTikiTinyToe.

Okay maybe not tiny toe, but something that rhymes with it anyway.

Gah. I'm going to go and try and tone down my hypersensitivity. It's making me feel like 5 year old me, and I was an asshole then.

*Not meant to imply what you'd think it implies. I just say disgusting as an exclamation, these days. It's all R's fault, that fool.

My Hovercraft Is Full Of Eels.

2010-02-24T12:54:00.009+05:30

Two weeks away. And the end, about a month.

And why is there always a wasp stuck in my room?

I was going through these old diaries of mine yesterday, and I felt kinda bad that I don't have any records or archives like how the Compulsive Confessor or Trillian have of their lives. I wanted to have something like that with my own blog y'know, 'cause I like the way I get so involved in theirs that it feels like I'm a character- similar to reading a book, but a little bit more real than that. I wanted someone else to feel like that about my writing, too. But then I chickened out of being so open online and decided to make it about random shit I wanted to say to no one in particular (or to everyone, actually). It might have been nice to have something like that though, to help relive old memories in high definition, with all the little things that they're made up of. Even the diaries, they're so fricking obscure in places even I don't remember what the fuck I was talking about. Plus, my handwriting is shit. So it took me forever to decipher some lines. A-nnoying, 'twas.

But I had a reason, though. To write like I didn't want anyone to know what precisely it was about. I used to write about things in full detail. Going through old writing became painful then. Not to mention excruciatingly embarassing, especially the stuff concerning boys and unrequited love and how life is unfair and the universe is conspiring against li'l ol' me and all that bs. And I think my brother ended up reading one of those diaries. Double whammy.

So instead of giving up writing, I just gave up writing a diary diary. Then it just became notes about my day, or a little snippet about how I felt at that point, or some poetic shit about the rain and Sigur Ros. And quotes. Lots and lots of quotes. So now I have something profound and poignant to say in almost every situation. Of course since my memory sucks so bad I don't actually do it at every given opportunity, but then. When I do remember, those moments, they're fucking gold. No, really.

So maybe after all of this Board hoopla I could start writing the way I used to, again. Have my own life story down, The Notebook style - except not focusing on all the romance so much, maybe. (Pah, I'm not even kidding myself, I swear)

Anyway.

Ooh, we also had the whole Diya thing in school last weekend. Where the school says 'Fare the well, my children- but hold on a second, here's some light to illuminate your destiny. Now skedaddle.' It was fun, ish. It's meant to be all solemn and all, but everyone acted like they didn't give too much of a fuck, and since we were all in our formal get up and things and since it WAS a farewell the teachers were sickeningly nice and didn't give us the dirts like they usually do when we talk during school ceremonies. Everyone looked damn good, too. Especially the girls. Saris, they just make everyone look fantastic. Even I looked all graceful and purdy. Everyone kept complimenting everyone else, during and after. Man. There's only so many times you can say thank you.

Compliments, y'know, are iffy things in the extreme. I have nothing else to say.

And I HAD to put this up. Dreamboat is just brilliant at photography now.

Whew.
We've finally graduated, the class of 2010.

Exeunt.

Febrero, and the stars are beautiful.

2010-02-10T19:45:00.005+05:30

Which is why I haven't written anything in a very long time. That, and the fact that I'm supposed to spend the better part of my day with my textbooks.

Speaking of which, holy shitsicles, in just over a month and a half, I am going to be free! Like WILLY! And I'm obviously referring to the whale here. Obviously. Ehehe.

I should be feeling all earnest and studying very very hard and things, but then me, being good ol' me, blew off all that today to go check out Khan Chacha's new place in Khan. I missed his awesome rolls, man. They're the shiznit. That Aap Ki Khatir dude is mean. And his rolls suck. And Al Bake is LAME, I don't care what anyone else says, their shawarmas are too oily, and too small, and just generally completely uncool. And did you know that shawarma is different from shwarma? The food dude told me so. Food dude food dude. Foodie doodie. Heheh. I like the way Americans say 'duty'. I especially like the way Arnold Schwarzenegger says it. "It is mah DOODIE!" :P

So I saw The Notebook the other day, and that movie is worse than PS I Love You. No, really. It is such a shit movie, wow. I mean the whole series of Nicholas Sparks movies are kind of lame and predictable, but even A Walk To Remember wasn't that bad(of course, there was a time when I was obsessed with that movie, and Landon, but nevermind that). The make out scenes were its saving grace, and that's only because I am very frustrated, and Ryan Gosling and the chickadee look damn good together.

Anyhoo Bones is on now. Speaking of which, yesterday's episode was SO awesome, especially the way Bones went apeshit on Booth Jr's ass. Epic, I says.

Oh, bollocks.

2010-01-26T11:42:00.003+05:30

Sweet Jesus, I hate this feeling. I really do. It's one of the worst in the world, this Oh-crap-did-I-just-fuck-things-up feeling. It's very handicapping. And it doesn't help that I overreact like a motherfucker. Double whammy. Poe, you little idiot.

Curse this grade, curse it and its stupid guilt trips and stress and lackoffreedom and general lameness to HELL.

If only I had a time machine. And wings. And a cure for fucked up headaches that require CT scans.
Most importantly, tact. And balls, except not literally, you understand.

And a pony and a castle in the clouds, while I'm at it.

Bloody shit.

Happy New Year, indeed.

2010-01-03T08:04:00.005+05:30

1900 hours.
We've been circling over New Delhi for the last hour or so. There's a queue for flights landing, we're number 10. You can't see anything other than purple darkness and the golden moon out the window, and we're at an altitude of 700 meters.

1940 hours.
The pilot’s already tried to land twice. Both times he had to turn around- visibility is less than 50 meters. It appears we’re going to get diverted, maybe to Ahmedabad.

2000 hours.

Okay, no. Jaipur it is then.

2040 hours.

We’re on a remote runway at the Jaipur aiport. The looker-after-of-stranded-people-er is on his way to our plane, the pilot says.

2130 hours.

Aforementioned looker-after has still not shown up.

2200 hours.

We’re in the bus, on the way to the airport. The Karol Bagh uncles are busy trying to look important and ergo are standing right at the entrance to the bus, when there are seats in the back. One of them offered to hold one of the passengers’ baby, seeing as she couldn’t find a seat. He’s standing in front of Jahangir and me, cooing “Smartie, smartie, nonono, don’t cwy” to the pissed off little one who’s probably wondering why the fuck some strange goon took him away from his mother.

2215.

Everyone’s standing in a long queue in front of one of the Air India desks, with one of the airport people behind the counter. We’re not entirely sure why, but we join it anyway.

2216.

So this dude’s arranging accommodation. Oh.

2230.

The line hasn’t moved an inch yet. Tempers are frayed, people are busy instigating other people, one lady got all up in it when some guy didn’t save her place in the line and so she jumped right to the front. People at back are yelling at her about how she has no ‘self respect’ or some such. Padre is surprisingly calm through the whole thing. I’m just standing and staring at everyone.

2315.

Fuck staying in Jaipur. This city is lame.

So we're sitting and waiting for the coaches that'll take us to Delhi to arrive.

Some dude is yelling at the security guard for responding insolently to his whiny questions.
"He's asking for his head to get blown off, the dumb motherfucker." Jahangir comments.
These CSIS dudes are under a lot of stress, he tells me. We should maybe go get the guy some coffee and apologise on behalf of the Dumb Motherfucker.
Noodle smiles half heartedly, when we ask her for cash and looks away, effectively telling us to shut the fuck up and stay in our seats.

0100.

Everyone else has either left for the hotel, or on the coaches. Ours hasn't arrived yet. Noodle looks disgusted with everything, and Padre is slightly aggravated with the incompetent Air India people, but on the whole isn't too peeved. I'm skidding around with the trolley, waiting for the goddam coach, while Jahangir flicks through the photos.

0124.

We're finally on a bus. Jesus Christ. These college going types are sitting behind me, talking about Bodh Gaya, and how they missed their connecting flight to New York, and laughing at dumbass college jokes. The food arranged for us is shit, and they haven't given us spoons.

I eat some of it anyway.

0230.

Jaipur is FREAKY man. It's like a ghost town. The lights are all on, the autos are standing where they're meant to, but there are no PEOPLE. The hell?

0330.

We're on the highway, FINALLY.

0430.

I'm still not asleep. Goddammit.

0625.
I spies Delhi Airport through the slight mist. Hallelujah.

0715.

"WHY'RE WE STILL FEEDING THE CAT MILK?! I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU, HE'S LACTOSE FRICKIN' INTOLERANT!"

I love home, I do.

Hchello, Hchello!

2009-12-18T20:13:00.005+05:30

We're in the last few days of school now.

Everybody who I didn't used to gel with at ALL last year are now the people who I hang with all the time. Vewy funny, zat. But hey, I'm not complaining. I laugh so much more these days. It's the only reason I go to school, I swear.
Well the only other reason, besides the glaringly obvious one *coughSTUPIDCUPIDcough*

Anyway.

And while school is becoming the best part of my day, my blog is getting more and more weepy and whiny sounding and I've had WAY too many nervous breakdowns in the last few weeks. It's abnormal and totally uncool. What happened to being the girl who studied when she felt like it and didn't otherwise without pulling wiggy shit on everybody?!
Okay, not everybody, but the people who matter anyway! GAH! THIS STRESSYNESS I WILL NOT STAND FOR, DAMMIT!

I should totally be definite-integrating right now.

Oh, bollocks.

Ooh, ooh. And I got HATE mail. From the quietest girl in the class too. A minute after I got done stressing out about integration and how much it sucks. I didn't know whether to laugh or to rip my hair out and throw the phone across the room hoping that she'd feel it on the other end of the line.
It's always the quiet ones who're insane.
Stupid psychotic motherfuckers with delusions of paranoia.
So apparently, I'm gonna get my ass whooped on Wednesday. Like, for sure. Considering how she didn't have the balls to bring this shit up until the last three days of school, I really doubt she'll be able to do anything more than set her retardedly tall boyfriend on me while she gives me smouldering looks over her shoulder. Said retardedly tall boyfriend won't be able to do shit anyway. I am fun-sized(ie, vertically challenged) and dangerous.

True story.

And the whole dream thing didn't work out. Too much other random shit kept happening, and I forgot I was in a dream, and then I thought I really was in school topless.
Then my pants disappeared halfway through.
And Fitz didn't know me, at all.
It was insane.
And freakay.
And wohmigaad, when I woke up, I swear I nearly cried with relief. Phwoosh.
Trippy dreams are not always fun.
Now I find out.
Bleddy.

Christmas is so going to suck this year.
I don't have anything nice to say, quite clearly.

Except, I had this eulogy brewing in my head, but now I'm tired out and sick of having nice things only in my head and all I want is a hug and a teddy bear to hold on to while I snuggle into the blankets on my bed and just
keep
the silence.

Bleah.

2009-12-10T15:28:00.005+05:30

Class XII is so full of shit. It sucks the fun out of studying, the system does. Then you're left wondering 'what the fuck do the marks mean anyway, man' and then piss yourself off, and piss off everyone around you.

Uncool situation, this whole thing.

I try lucid dreaming again tonight. Except y'know, the thing is, I've always liked the fact that my dreams are insane and completely random. It gives me something to think about while I'm getting dressed for school. And concentrating while you're dreaming is so bloody hard. It's so much easier to just lie back on the grassy hill in your head and watch the thoughtclouds that float across your mind's bright blue sky.
Last night was a bad night to try it anyway, there were too many people around and I got interrupted four times in the course of 6 hours, less than even.
I asked Fitz to give me a story line, something to concentrate on while drifting into Lala Land. The problem with raw story lines is that trying to fill in the details is like colouring in a blank drawing. I want to do it really well and evenly but in between I just lose interest and start doing my own thing on the borders. Pfft.

I'm sorry to whoever may be reading this right now. I'm not even trying to make it remotely interesting to anyone. I just need to write something because my head's full of sad-making things and thinking about them is just not nice. I don't want to wallow.

You, Me, and Happy.

2009-11-19T17:50:00.005+05:30

You're pissed off, I'm pissed off. Mostly for the same reasons.

So let's stay away from each other and stay inside our personal broody bubbles. Or maybe we both just forget how pissed off we are and laugh over the stupid moments of today.

It's the little things that get to me, I think. Things like hand holding in Italy, bleah.

You know what I want? I want time. No, actually, I want to step out of the stream of Time, and pull you into my vortex and keep you there with me. Because then there are no constraints, no trains to catch at a particular moment, no traffic jams to beat, no people to get back home to, no responsibilities to attend to, no phone bills to pay.

But for now, I'm just going to let Iktara surround me.

Thank you, by the way.