the nerdyberdy's exploits

Euthanasia

2011-03-12T21:43:00.002+05:30

It's been a poor year for blogging- one post every month. I think I've finally outgrown the blog. It's kept me company through some rather angsty, difficult-to-express moments. Admittedly, I always liked to pretend that I didn't know the people who read it. But it still helped to be able to say a lot of the stuff that I did, to the general void that is the world wide web. However, even I can recognise when the time has come to pull the plug on this. I'll give it till the end of the summer, but if things don't pick up by then, I shall probably say goodbye.
I suppose growing up is a good thing in some ways. :)

Infatuation is infatuation is infatuation
And as such, it does not last long
River-time, it floats me on
And you would have to be stupid
If you expected me to still be standing there- where you left me.
I’ve gone ahead, I’ve left us behind.

This has nothing to do with Valentines Day

2011-02-14T22:23:00.001+05:30

And everything to do with too much Veronica Mars, and still more to do with reading a Sid Vicious biography.

Be Sid to my Nancy
Set me on fire, and let us burn
Destroy me
Swiftly
Briefly
We will not be together for a lifetime
But for our lifetimes, momentarily,
it will be extraordinary and magical
And I can die, martyred in an epic love story.

Ever wish you didn't have to grow up?

2011-01-15T22:40:00.001+05:30

Climb the little trees, eat the little leaves
Scream at the motley kites, colourful glee
Hold my hand, skipping, never walking
Spin, whirl around like new love
Breathless, never tristful, never wistful
Ever blissful, young heart.

Beirut makes me nostalgic for a childhood I'm not entirely sure I even had. I wish there was some way to actually tap the memories I know I have in my head, even if I can't reach them.

Productive mornings

2010-12-02T09:45:00.003+05:30

When you've been up since 5 a.m., you suddenly find the time to make up for the blogging dry spell. =)

Sing a song, but nor for me
Sing a song of golden trees
Sing a song of sad whispers
Sing a song of mild winters

Sing a song, only for you
Sing a song, heartbreakingly true
Sing a song of beautiful lies
Sing a song of sorrowing skies

Sing a song, for us loners
Sing a song, for the mourners
Sing a song of single beds
Sing a song of the grateful dead

Sing a song of soft lament
Sing a song, or stay silent
Sing not at all, soundless at last
Stay quiet, the song has passed.

P.S. I couldn't resist the pop culture reference. No points for spotting it, it's waaaay to obvious.

My Top Ten Albums of all Time

2010-12-02T06:08:00.003+05:30

As a sort of disclaimer, I'd like you all to notice that this is MY top ten, and therefore not up for debate. Further, this being my list, is not listed according to critical acclaim, or how musically brilliant the album was, or any particular reason really. It's basically decided on the basis of how much I love the album, in some cases it was the music, some the lyrics, some simply the time in my life when I listened to it. Point being: MY list. Also, this is in no particular order. Narrowing down the music I love to ten albums is difficult enough without ordering them according to preference. Okay, here goes nothing...

1. Big Ones: Aerosmith.
Okay, it might be considered cheating that I picked a greatest hits album, but you should note that Aerosmith has had many 'best of' albums, so it still counts. Besides, it has my favourite song on it, "Rag Doll". And while I love the song, Permanent Vacation couldn't be called my all-time favourite Aerosmith album. If I had to pick the standard studio album, it would be a close call between Pump and Get a Grip. And this is where Big Ones fits in perfectly, it takes my favourite bits of both albums, adds my favourite song, and voila: perfection.

2. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road: Elton John
Again, I would have preferred to pick his first greatest hits album, but okay. This album is complete genius, the title track is my favourite Elton John track ever. There's this live version he does with Billy Joel, and I love it possibly more than the original. Plus, the album also has "Bennie and the Jets", which is my second favourite song, tied with "Tiny Dancer". You have to understand how difficult it is to pick a favourite album, the man is a musical genius and has a bazillion albums, each one equally brilliant. He writes the most amazing music, never a boring melody, ever!

3. The Bends: Radiohead
Radiohead is very mood music for me. There are only a few points in my life when I want to listen to them. But at those points, I becomes obsessive. The Bends is probably not the most critically acclaimed of Radiohead albums, but I don't think they've ever been as honest, brutally-hit-you-where-it-hurts kind of beautiful. The album makes me cry, but revel in the crying, if that makes any sense. "Black Star" is my favourite Radiohead song of all time, with "The Bends" and "High and Dry" at a very very close second. If you ever want to just enjoy being miserable, then you may as well do it with this album. Plus, "Just" is just one of the best videos all time. It kills me.

4. Gulag Orkestar: Beirut
Considering how much I talk about Beirut, it shouldn't surprise you that they're on this list. Despite the fact that they've only released two albums, I think they've already understood what it's all about better than musicians who have been doing this for decades. If I could, I'd just pick both albums. Sigh. Anyway, this one has "Postcards from Italy" and that was pretty much the decider for me. It was the first song of theirs that I ever heard, and to date, the bridge can make me sob. I want the song to play when I fall in love. I want it to play when I die. I want it to play at every important event in my life. If it's the only song in the soundtrack of my life, I'd still be blissfully happy.

5. Californication: Red Hot Chili Peppers
While, like the average RHCP fan, I too love By the Way and Blood Sugar Sex Magik, Californication is my absolute favourite RHCP album. Frusciante came back with a bang for this album. "Otherside" is my favourite RHCP song after "Universally Speaking". And truth be told, every other song on the album is pretty near perfect too. The album kind of blends earlier lively RHCP, with their newer, slightly mellower side. I mean, you have the acoustic "Road Tripping", with the mad "Around the World", with one of the few RHCP lyrics that have ever made any sense to me in "Easily". What's not to love?

6. The Joshua Tree: U2
Well, duh, a U2 album had to be on the list. I went with the cliche and picked The Joshua Tree, but to be honest, All That You Can't Leave Behind is right there too. I love both albums equally and completely. It's rare to come across an album where you absolutely love every song on it. Two is pretty much impossible, but here you go. I love both albums, all the songs, and I would kill to hear them live. When I was 11, and All That.. had just come out, I heard "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of" for the first time, and that's the first time ever that a song made me cry. Consistently. I still get a little teary eyed when I hear it. It makes me feel 11 all over again, and remember how I felt when I first heard the song, which is that I was growing up and at some point soon, life would stop being this easy.
I was right.
Okay, make that 6. The Joshua Tree/All That You Can't Leave Behind: U2

7. Morning View: Incubus
Easily one of the most innovative, unpredictable albums I have ever heard. Not one song is like any other on the album, and there's no single mood to the album. Some songs are soft & slow, others strong and heavy. "Wish You Were Here" was my favourite song for a long time. Not just my favourite Incubus song, or my favourite song off this album, but just my favourite song. I loved it, I yelled it, I sang my heart out. This song was the soundtrack of most of my teenage life. And while I may not be able to call it my favourite song anymore, it's still up there in my top ten songs. Fo sho. I missed seeing them live in Dubai because of my exams, and I doubt I'll ever forgive myself for that. I cried that night. My only real display of teen angst, I should think.

8. Funeral: Arcade Fire
Wow. I have never heard a band that sings every song of theirs with so much heart. They're singing for you, for me, and for themselves. Every word. And you'd have to be made of stone to not know that. With that much emotion going into every song, it's impossible not to love them. "Wake Up" and "Neighbourhood #3" are my favourite songs from the album, while "Une Annee Sans Lumiere" is probably the most beautiful name for a song I have ever heard. Kinda fits the melancholy mood of the whole album. Love it.

9. Jagged Little Pill: Alanis Morissette
If you're a girl, and you've ever been brokenhearted or angry at any point, then you've cried, and then listened to this album, found that powerful anger inside you and raged at the world and anything or anybody that has ever hurt you. This album is my 'fuck you' to the world. It is angsty, and all the I-am-woman-hear-me-roar that I could ever need. And for that reason, it will always be special to me.

10. The Beatles (The White Album): The Beatles
And I end with a bang. Do I need to explain why I love this album, because I really think the songs speak for themselves. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" is my favourite Beatles song ever, ironically one of the few non-Lennon/McCartney songs. The rest of the album is just so damned varied. It's difficult to make a generalisation about the album and why I love it. I just do. I love the random songs, I love the beautiful songs, I love the songs which surprise you with their depth. Savvy? Go listen to it and you can ignore whatever I just typed.

In fact, you should go listen to all these albums. While I don't want to debate my choices, I'd love to discuss them. =)

=)

2010-11-28T22:10:00.002+05:30

The heart is a beautiful resilient thing.
It shatters, and seems irreparable,
And then suddenly,
It’s back together again
And yelling, “FUCK YOU!”

This is the optimism that comes with cleaning your room and having a ton of clean clothes. I feel good. =)

Happy 200

2010-11-23T18:04:00.002+05:30

This is a rather landmark post. Aside from being my 200th post, and the first post I've made in over a month (which should explain just how busy I've been), it might also be my last post, since I have econometrics II tomorrow, and the chances of my surviving that are quite slim as of now. Yippee.
It's in times like this that we're inspired to blog. About anything. Hence, the book meme that I borrowed from Felicity. Essentially, you have the BBC Top Hundred Book List, and the books you've read, you mark in bold; the ones you've started but never finished, you italicize, and yeah, that's about it. Apparently most people have read only about 6 on these list. I know I've definitely read more than that. And considering that my reading over the last few years has been somewhat restricted (for which I entirely blame Marquez), it's a relief to know that I'm not completely lost. Anyway, here goes.

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

7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials trilogy – 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

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulk

18 The Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch – George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald

24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams

26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh

27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia series – 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

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh – A.A. Milne

41 Animal Farm – George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving

45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins

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

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 The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac

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

82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web – E.B. 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

Very few in italics. A pox upon you, marquez.

Being you

2010-10-17T23:38:00.002+05:30

It's a difficult task, I know. Being yourself, and not letting the rest of the world discuss which parts of you are okay and which need to be changed is positively herculean. I know I come off as terribly individualistic, like nobody else's opinion matters a dime, but everyone has their weak points and it takes someone you love to really hammer at them. And I do not mean that in a good way. However, it also takes someone you love to fix all of this.

And what I discovered is that being individualistic is not all wrong. It doesn't mean I'm selfish. Just because I'm aloof, doesn't mean I'm cold. Just because I don't call you every other day, doesn't mean I don't care. The point is, the most I can be is me. I can only try to meet my own standards. Fulfilling everybody else's expectations is not my prerogative. I can try, but there are too many people, and truth be told, the only person I really need to live with for the rest of my life, is myself. So, if I'm not happy with myself, then that's the only reason worth changing myself for. And if you think that being happy with yourself is easy, you're wrong. It's much harder than meeting any other expectations. If you think change is required, it can't be a superficial change, there's no hiding the truth from yourself. Try it and see for yourself.

As for the rest of the world, if you fail to change, there isn't much they can do. Of course, they will have an opinion about it, but here's a tip for that: There are few opinions that really matter, and it's up to you to decide which ones do.

So learn to love yourself, don't wait for someone to fix you and make you worth loving.

I am Immortal

2010-10-13T22:34:00.001+05:30

I bring my own happiness. I cause my own happiness.

Two things

2010-10-04T17:27:00.003+05:30

Firstly, I spent last weekend in Bangalore with some of my dearest friends, and it was lovely. But then I had to go home for a bit, essentially to say goodbye to my brother. It was sort of one of those bittersweet moments. I mean, we'd said goodbye earlier, but this time he introduced me to his girlfriend, and I don't know why, but there was some kind of finality implied in that gesture. Or so it seemed to me.

Anyway, we took a train back to Madras on Saturday, and while we were on the train I was feeling rather moody about this whole thing. I realised that we've obviously grown in the last four years, because seven years ago when my parents moved me to Dubai, it was a similar situation. I wasn't going to see my brother for about 4 years, except for summer holidays, and I didn't mind at all. I was happy to go. The situation is the same this time around, but the circumstances are completely different. And I'm going to miss him terribly. I'm going to miss having him just an STD call away, and talking to this new side of him that actually tells me things about his life. I'm scared to not have him a train journey away in case I fuck up big time and need to go running to him and have him fix everything for me.

And then Radiohead started playing, and something about the way Thom Yorke sings Fake Plastic Trees was just more than I could take at the point, I cried a little bit. And then the most incredible thing happened, I looked out the window and saw the largest rainbow. And then there were parallel rainbows. And you could actually see both ends of one of them. I mean, if there was ever a sign to say "Cheer up", that had to be it. Thank you, whoever sent that to me. I'm still going to be a little upset, but fuck, there must be a pot of gold lying around somewhere, right?

This is going to be a really long one, huh? Feel free to stop reading. You probably already did a while back, because really, who wants to hear me whine?

Anyway, the second thing has to do with what a coward I am. And I am a huge one. I find it terribly difficult to take risks with things that mean a lot to me. The more important the item, the more likely I am to bubble-wrap it and put it on a very high shelf and keep it safe from my destructive hands. I'm convinced I have the antithesis of a Midas touch. And the evidence so far supports this. So yes, I can't be blamed really, for taking the cowardly way out. Sometime the benefit is just having the friend, so you stifle the urge to do something stupid, and be happy with what you have. And I am, really.

A few home truths

2010-09-23T21:35:00.003+05:30

1. Creepy men should be outlawed. It's my prerogative to not give you my name, because it's my fucking name. On the other hand, what you're supposed to do is NOT FUCKING THREATEN ME. Argh.

2. More often than not, men suck. Sorry, but the douches in the world totally outnumber the nice guys.

3. If you're aware that something is not going to work, and say so, you're pessimistic. On the other hand, if you're aware that it's going to go perfect, and say so, you're over confident. Essentially, there's no winning. So give in, be pessimistic about the good stuff, and optimistic about the shit. The world will love you more.

4.Pink is pink is pink is pink. If a girl tells you she doesn't love a single shade of pink, she's lying. Either that or she's actually a guy. Which means she/he's still lying.

5. Whoever said there was no shame in losing, never lost. There is shame in losing. And the shame is this: YOU LOST. :| What there is actually no shame in, is feeling bad about losing. You're human, if you want to feel like crap about having lost, go ahead. In fact, if you want to feel like crap about just about anything, or even nothing, go ahead.

Okay, the internet is being very annoying today, so I'm just going to post this while I still can.

Staring at the walls

2010-09-10T18:23:00.000+05:30

What is the point to the way we live our lives? In the pursuit of happiness, I think we got lost somewhere along the way. Our goals are so confused now, I doubt we even realise that we’re not happy. We’re chasing the ever elusive happiness, which took a left off this road, miles earlier, and we didn’t even notice. We notice nothing.

You would think that I’m too young to be this cynical. I’m too young to be so hopeless. But really, what is left to know about this life. You, who are older, are you happy? Have you been trying to be happy? Or are you too passing through, living life by the ideals already laid down before you by others who have passed this way?

I’m waiting to be happy. In the meantime, I’ll live my life. But I know that you’re pointing me in the wrong direction. I also know that you know no better. So, I won’t hold it against you. I just wish you wouldn’t shake your head at me in that patronising way. I wish I had the grey hair and wrinkles you’d need to take me seriously. I just wish I knew what to do to be really happy.

What does the elf say?

2010-09-05T22:47:00.000+05:30

It rains outside.
It rains inside.
For what is melancholy if not bad weather?
And what is emotion if not an overflowing river?
And what are we if not eroding, eroded banks?
And what are tears and smiles if not expressive flanks?
And what is war if not a lifelong battle?
And what is destiny if not sweet burned caramel?
And what are you if not my mirror?
And why am I here if not for your pleasure?

When single girls PMS, that's the worst it can get

2010-09-05T13:56:00.000+05:30

I want to
Scream
Cry
Sob
Shout
Fight
Bitch
Wail
I need to be
I need to feel
I need

Revelations

2010-09-04T16:39:00.003+05:30

If you were not you, then I wouldn't be me.

In other words, thank you for being a self-absorbed, smooth-talking, smart ass of a d-bag. You make me strive so hard to be a better person.

Funcusions.

2010-08-17T23:48:00.000+05:30

Because even thunderous rain has its own beauty
A stain on the wall is sometimes art
A tuneless hum just fits the moment
Where the perfect song just lacks the heart

A mad man’s gibberish can be pure poetry
The middle of summer can be deathly cold
The cruellest taunt really the kindest mercy
Turning twenty-one can feel so old

Sometimes you just need to look at it from another angle
You won’t make it out to sea, till you’ve fought the tide
For what is unusual is not always wrong
Just as what is conventional is not always right

Because bald is beautiful

2010-08-04T19:13:00.003+05:30

So I shaved my head over the weekend. Clippered it to be precise, because the men at the salon were apparently too chicken to actually shave it. Either way, I have not the conventional mop of hair on my head. I've always wanted to do it, so when I shrug in response to the "Why did you do it?!?" that usually accompanies every stare I get, it honestly means that there's no rational real reason to it. I just wanted to. So I decided to go do it.
Anyway, the day after the deed, I happened to go out to a concert, where at some point I found the courage to take on the stares and take off my scarf. Surprisingly enough, a boy asked me to dance. I declined for reasons that I will explain later. Since this is however the happy part of the tale, I will celebrate by saying "HA! The bald chick's still got some pull!"
Now of course, it would not be my life if there wasn't some ironic twist to this plot. The boy who asked me to dance did so with the strangest accent. The irony is that I had actually met him before, when I had had hair, and he had not had an accent. Unfortunately, while he did not remember me with hair, I most certainly remembered him without an accent. This is why I just could not dance with him.
I guess it is sort of flattering though, in a very weird strange way, that a boy would take the effort to fake (even poorly) an accent to get a dance.

Why I did it:

2010-08-01T20:21:00.002+05:30

Feel free to pick whichever answer appeals to you the most:
1. I wanted to look like a mannequin/an android/Alicia Keys/a cancer patient/a weirdo.
2. I wanted to make sure people could tell me and Wiwhu apart.
3. I made a pact with my brother. (He ditched me later)
4. I donated my hair to a cancer charity. (not)
5. I let my aspiring neurosurgeon boyfriend practise on me.
6. I have secretly harboured a lifelong crush on sinead o'connor/natalie portman.
7. I am the real G.I. Jane.
8. I like to make feminist statements.
9. I secretly want to be unattractive.
10. I'm a wannabe biyotch.

:) Honestly though, I've always wanted to do it, for whatever reason.
Why I did it now, this particular time in my life? Because it seemed convenient. The one time my head is entirely mine to do with as I please. Plus, it feels so fricking awesome! :D

Because I love music so

2010-07-26T15:14:00.003+05:30

It's very difficult to explain how much I do. If I loved it less, maybe I could talk about it more. Of course, Austen meant people, but I don't do that well with people. Anyway, point being, I am so very grateful to have a tune in my head all the time. And I'm grateful to who ever wrote the songs that mean so much to me. And I'm grateful that there are people who are less cowardly than I am, and are/were willing to take the necessary steps to make music their life in every way. And I'm grateful that so many of them allow me to live vicariously through their songs. And that it makes me happy and sad and feel things that I may never have the courage to experience on my own.

you even hiccup adorably

2010-07-18T02:29:00.001+05:30

Have you noticed, that you breathe steadily
In time with every note pulled on the bass
Do you know that you’ve been smiling softly
Every time they played that poignantly sweet bridge
Or that every time they sing that just-right harmony
You pause, mid-chew,sip,swallow, and wait
For that next note, and if they play it truthfully
Your face becomes one of inexpressible joy
And strange satisfaction as if you possibly
By simply being part of the moment, made it so right.

That's how it is.

2010-07-17T00:04:00.000+05:30

I never make my bed anymore
Because secretly, I hope you’re out there
Somewhere
Watching me, hating the mess I’ve made of our room
And our house
And it brings you back, if only to tell me to clean up.

Lemon Meringues

2010-07-14T11:37:00.004+05:30

So we're having people over for dinner. So we're (read: my mom's) making quiche, and chicken in velouté sauce, and for dessert, lemon meringue pie.
I helped.
Sort of.
Well, at the end of a rather productive morning, I at least know how to make a meringue. (sniggers)
I know, this sort of tragic cooking humour just proves how tragic the state of my social life currently is. For those not in the know, a meringue is probably one of the easiest things to make. Especially when you have an electric whisk, with multiple speed settings. And even then I couldn't get the damned thing stiff.
Which is a disturbing phrase in my head.
I think I'm going to quit while I'm ahead and go take a peek at the oven.
Adieu. (more bad humour)

Where did the last twenty years go?

2010-07-14T00:13:00.003+05:30

I've grown old. I know it's a strange thing to say since I'm barely a few months short of my twenty-first birthday. But really, where did the last twenty years go?
I was listening to the radio today (the channel that plays only the classics, more proof of my aging soul) and they were celebrating the 25th anniversary of Live Aid. And they played a Bryan Adams song. I almost burst into tears. Do you know, there was a time when Bryan Adams was the be all and end all to my life? From when I could make any sense of music, I was weaned on music of past generations. I grew up listening to Elton John (old Elton John :P) and Simon & Garfunkel, and Neil Diamond, and CSNY amongst many many others.
Essentially though, there weren't too many artists of my own generation that I was aware of. So when I first discovered the radio, Bryan Adams became the only artist of my own generation that I could love, who belonged to me in a way, simply because he was of my time, and at the same time wasn't completely a pop artist like the Spice Girls, or the Backstreet Boys. He was one of the few somewhat respectable artists that still got a lot of radio time. And, for all that people say that he wasn't the most inventive, or outrageous, or groundbreaking artist of his time, he was so damn easy to love. He wrote easy-to-listen-to, catchy and happy songs. And he wrote lyrics that I could understand right from when I was eight, and other groups were singing songs about "the zig-a-zig ah".
I mean, when I was a kid, pop was huge. There was no escaping it. Everyone was singing and listening to boybands, and big-voice ballad singers like Celine Dion and Mariah Carey. Bryan Adams was such a huge escape from that. And I could spend hours listening to the So Far So Good album, with a badminton racket as my guitar, and singing out every song really really loud. And it was happy time. And today listening to him brought back that happy feeling for me. And sitting in the car, a relatively grown up almost-twenty-one, I started screaming out the song. By no surprise, I still remembered every single word. And I loved it.

I took it all for granted
But how was I to know
That you'd be letting go
Now it cuts like a knife!
But it feels alright

A tribute to my summer, that is too fast coming to an end

2010-07-13T03:09:00.002+05:30

They have told me of the cold.
Of crisp beautiful winters, white.
Of snow flakes, that are individually, uniquely delicate and expressive.
Of freezing damp, that digs into your skin and strangles your warmth.
Of strong winds that fight their way into your lungs,
And try to freeze you from the inside out.
Of soft snow upon pretty red rooftops.
Of murderous ice that coats the black roads.
Of frosty breath and hot chocolate that is never hot
And of tongues so numb, that it rarely tastes like chocolate.
They have told me about the cold.
But what could I understand when I have only seen summers.
Of golden warm days, with sand that burns yellow.
Of trees that surrender their green in favour of an easier brown.
Of hot winds that spin around and around like fiery Dervishes
That aim to bring a living purgatory.
Of inescapable heat that seems to penetrate thick walls and thin sheets alike
Of the constant drip drip of sweat that seems to
Attenuate the very desire to live.
Of unending blue skies that seem to never bring the relief of a rain cloud.
Of dust dust dust, that stings, and chokes, and blinds.
Of sultriness that envelops and drains, slowly and then rapidly.
I have only seen summers.
A land without heat seems an inconceivable heaven.

I don't get it.

2010-07-12T18:15:00.002+05:30

I just don't! They always go on about how it takes two hands to clap. Well, then how come only one hand gets caned? Huh? I know this makes no sense, but I can't explain it, I'm just angry, and frustrated, and I'm glad the other hand wasn't caned, but damn it, either you punish both or you forgive both.
Ugh.

In other news, here's the not-so-serious poem I promised earlier today. It is very stupid. But I couldn't help it. I was listening to this absolutely lovely song called "I'll be seeing you", which is a very sweet and nice song. But I realised, that I don't want that. I don't want the beautiful, wholesome, all encompassing love. I want someone I can fight with, and have hot make up sex with (not that I would know anything about that, being a complete virgin), but you get the idea. Sigh. I don't want a nice boy, I'd walk all over him, and that would just be sad. So here's my poem:

Like the old song says I want you
To look at the moon, but see only me
A minute without me should make you blue
And the sight of me with someone else, turn you green.

And, faithful rainbow, you will learn to yearn
For every glance that I deign to bestow
And above all you will learn to burn
For every kiss, every touch, and every blow

You will never ask questions or complain
Always accept even the flimsiest excuse
You will flinch, but still crave the pain
And love every minute of abuse

And though you know I could never
Love you when I can hardly respect you
You, foolish pet, will still endeavour
To be my favourite, if only ever a, collared pooch.

One more teeny bit of serious verse

2010-07-12T14:10:00.002+05:30

I'll post the slightly more humorous poem a little later in the day. :)

Because when our song plays,
I suddenly find the beauty in a broken heart-
Jagged little pieces,
That will never come back together again, to let me breathe.

Suggest a title when you comment, thanks :)

2010-07-11T18:14:00.003+05:30

And your scab peels
And falls to the floor
And your skin heals
And you’re ready for more

And I don’t understand
This masochist you
And I can’t comprehend
This side of you

And I can’t hurt you like the others
Not when I’ve helped pick up the pieces
And I can’t watch you cry like this
Your tears leaving scars and traces
On your cheeks and on your heart
And those soulful, black irises

P.S. I know it sounds incomplete. But I just can't see it end any other way.

Because writing rhyming poetry is the closest I will ever get to song-writing

2010-07-10T22:54:00.001+05:30

When they talk about the good old days
You realise that you don’t miss them
And you don’t care what everybody says
You don’t think the future’s dim.

Nostalgia colours the past pretty
But you see it for what it is
The dream they like to call memory
Is nothing but the fear of coming years

Why worry about the future?
It hasn’t happened yet
It is the past that doesn’t blur
That has the capacity to hurt

Keep your pictures and postcards
But beware of the power you give them
Individually they are glass shards,
Not like the whole mirror you intend

Never forget that what they reflect
Are days that have already gone by
And never use it to reject
The future that draws nigh

Lay your past to rest today
And look ahead without doubt
And remember this of what they will always say,
The “good old days” will never again come about.

:D :D

2010-07-10T02:05:00.002+05:30

Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!
I got a new external hard drive. 1 TB, and it's the size of my palm. And I LOVE IT!
Whhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Ok, must go format it, and shift all my stuff on to it, and ha, my computer is going to be so much faster once this is done. :D

In the same vein

2010-07-08T20:57:00.003+05:30

To continue with the bloggin spree of not-so-great-but-still-rhyming poetry, here's another one. The theme is sort of similar to the last one, but lighter, much much lighter I hope. It was inspired by a pretty red pack of Skittles. I love Skittles.

“Who cares about rock and roll,
When you’ve got funk and soul”
Said you, to my gaping mouth
My heart, no longer whole
Could see that we were opposite poles
You the north, and I, the south

You liked M ‘n Ms, and me?
I like Skittles with the centres fruity.
And what are we without candy unity?
And when you think kicking around a ball
Isn’t even a sport at all
Just an experiment in futility?

You think Apple is just a fruit,
Well I think YOU are a brute,
And you will never understand
That global warming is just a con
The biggest one since prawn
Was declared an edible contraband.

It was George, not John or Paul,
But then what do you know of rock and roll
For you it was always Marvin Gaye
And Smokey Robinson and the Miracles,
And Stevie Wonder, oh so lyrical
That I personally found appy-cray.

That you never understood pig latin,
Should really have been the crux in
This battle of the sexes
For with no interests to share,
I think we might better fare
Simply as each other’s ex-es.

Because it's too hot to do much else

2010-07-08T04:58:00.001+05:30

Quite the posting spree. Sigh. This isn't much better than the last one, but it does rhyme. Rhyming is my waterloo. Ah well, at least I'm writing. And this one is also trying to be as honest as the last one.

I apologise for my short attention span,
For it is not that you aren’t a one-woman man
But that perhaps I am not a one-man woman
For which I perhaps ought not to be forgiven
Yet I tried to cause you as little pain
And my sorrys rang out like a pitiful refrain
Of a song writer who knows that his songs are untrue,
And yet he tries, as I tried with you.

But like any bad poem or bad song
The words always sounded just a bit wrong.
The lack of rhyme, the disjointed tune,
The raving words of a crazy loon.
But does that mean that one stop singing,
Or the writer give up his writing?
Should I give up loving too,
Just because I couldn’t love you?

Sleep Paralysis and Past Life Regressions

2010-07-07T02:39:00.002+05:30

So, in a random conversation about phobias, I discovered that what I thought was a phobia of mine (albeit a recently developed one, only over the last few years) is actually a medical condition. :O
Basically, sometimes when I fall asleep in a class, I wake up, but am not able to move. My eyes are open, but for a few minutes, I can't move a muscle. It is the most terrifying feeling ever. I can only attempt to explain what goes on in my head, which is that I feel like I'm dying. I'm dying, I'm aware of it, and nobody else has realised enough to help me. I usually panic and try to blink my eyes frantically, or move my hands even a little to bring attention to myself, to indicate that I need help. But my hands don't move. And for those few minutes, I can hear my heart pound, and I imagine a blackness coming. And then suddenly, I can move again. I somehow get up, heart still pounding, and raise my hand for attendance.
It's happened to me many times, but knowing that I always get out of it, has never helped me stay calm. Even now, knowing what I do know about it from wikipedia, I can't be sure it'll help me the next time it happens.
Anyway, the condition that I'm talking about is called Sleep Paralysis. Essentially what happens is that my mind wakes up, before my body does. It's a creepy feeling. It's utterly fascinating though. And it only seems to further my self diagnosis of potential narcolepsy. The whole point behind my typing this out, is a resolution to ensure I get atleast 7 or 8 hours of sleep once I get back to college. I can't keep going through this, it's too scary. And even though I know now what it is, it isn't worth imagining death every other week.
Now, the past life regression bit is the more mystic reason to why I might feel the way I do. This was brought up by the friend I was having this discussion with. Even though both of us are complete cynics about this whole thing, I can't help but say that mysticism is fascinating. It appeals to the storyteller in me. And the idea that someone probably killed me in my sleep in a previous life, is morbidly cool. Surreal as the whole thing seems, I would very much like to try getting a past life regression done. It would make for a nice story if nothing else.

Because I have two X chromosomes

2010-07-05T02:37:00.002+05:30

I love the way you sing in the shower,
even if it is Britney Spears.
I love that when you find something really funny
you laugh so hard your shoulders shake.
I love the way you elongate your syllables
when you're trying really hard to get your way.
I love the way you try not to show off,
even when you're doing precisely that.
I love how your hands look
holding a steering wheel.
I love how you love holding me,
even though I do try to push you off.
I love how you try staring into my eyes,
even when we're not having a "moment".
I love how you talk to me about your sex life
in an attempt to shock me.
I love how you think I care about said sex life,
just because I don't tell you to shut up.
I love that you make me feel like laughing,
even when you're really pissing me off.
I love that we could be sharing a bed,
and you'd only hold me and let me sleep.
I love that stupid way you wiggle your eyebrows,
when you're being pervy and idiotic.
Most of all, I love that I can love all this about you,
and not have to really love you at all.
And it is because of all these little things,
that you drive me up the wall.
That's why we could have never been together,
you see?

Note: I am not in love. And this (points at poem above) isn't about any one person. I just sort of collected all the things I liked about the different guys I have liked over a lifetime, and put them together (with a bit of creative license)to.. well, explain the title of this post. I think it makes some sense.

Beirut.

2010-07-04T17:57:00.002+05:30

I know, I've spoken about them a lot before, but the truth is I can't get enough of them. Zach Condon is a genius. And wherever he gets his inspiration for his melodies, I am grateful to him for it. Because he writes beautiful songs. Beautiful songs that get me in ways I can't explain. But it's lovely and true and I could go on and on about how much I love it and it would still not be enough.

"I'll sing of the bottles of wine
That we left on our old windowsill
I'll sing of the usual spin
Getting sadder and older, oh love"

Did I mention he also writes beautiful lyrics?

Raindrops on roses and what not

2010-06-25T02:50:00.003+05:30

So, I was tagged in a "10 favourite things" meme, and my first reaction was "only ten?!?". I mean, how can I restrict myself to only ten things when there are so many varied things in this world to love? But I shall try, this may need severe revision, but I shall forge ahead.
1. Music: Top favourite. It is the one thing in my life that I could not live without. Really. It plays all the time, different kinds of music, but always there floating around my head or in the background. If I didn't have it, I quite honestly would rather be dead.
2. My immediate family: My mom for being my mom, my dad for being so darned huggable, and my brother for being my conscience and being the one person in the world who can piss me off. :)
3. My berdies: For making time apart never matter, and for understanding what I mean even when I'm being incoherent and stupid.
4. My 'foffy' blanket and Moo: For keeping warm when it's cold, cool when it's warm, and comforting at all times. And Moo for making me want to smile just by existing.
5. Happy Endings: While I do occasionally enjoy movies/books with sad endings, they are usually only forgivable because of really good writing. Otherwise I like happy endings, I love that fuzzy, warm feeling I get in my tummy knowing that somebody out there got it all right. Or at least enough right to be happy.
6. Jeans: They're my favourite thing in the world to wear. And there's nothing so home-y as a pair of warm, comfortable, slightly worn jeans.
7. Desserts: Because I have one of the sweetest tooths in the world and things like candy make me indescribably happy.
8. Water: It's the best most satisfying drink in the world. I love water. I would like to marry a glass of cold water, and have little water babies.
9. Historical fiction: I find it fascinating to live in a different time, even if it's only as far as 50 years back.
10. Sleep: There is nothing as restorative as a good nap. And there isn't a better way to while away time. Nor an easier way to burn calories.

I might change my mind, but I shall try not to. As for tagging, well if you read this, you're tagged. Let me know if you respond.

A few random thoughts

2010-06-18T17:08:00.002+05:30

So much for the hiatus. Ah well.
Okay, this is just random. That was a warning.
1. Beirut makes me want to cry. The band, not the city. I've never been to the city.
2. There is something extremely strange about Sami Khedira's jaw. He looks unevolved or something. It's very creepy.
3. I have done absolutely nothing constructive in about 6 weeks. And I'm loving it.
4. Burger King burgers are the bestest fast food burgers in the world. The best non-fast food burgers in the world are my momma's.
5. I had a jam doughnut yesterday. Instead of sating my craving, it's made it worse. Effing hell.
6. I saw two Korean martial arts/comic/musical shows : JUMP and NANTA. They were both KILLER. Like wow.
7. Better than the Korean martial arts is the Korean three-drum-dance (Samgo-mu). OMFG. Synchronised dancing, with drums, and despite the banging and hammering, it looks so unbelievably graceful.
8. Sticking with the Korean theme, they lost to Argentina. Ha.
9. 46 new kids are joining my department. 46! Take this is as my official declaration to not bother with them. I cannot possibly learn another 46 names. I don't even know half of the kids in the batch before them. Sigh. Shame on me. But really, I just can't. Names are just beyond me.
10. I want germany to lose the world cup. Very badly. Please, someone out there, make it happen.

This blog is dying a slow death

2010-05-12T23:22:00.002+05:30

I have posted 10 times, (11 including this) this year. That's just beyond pathetic. Point being, I'm beyond the moodiness to sit and rant about stuff anymore. The few things that trouble me enough I can no longer mention on this blog, even wrapped in innuendo and metaphors. Plus, I think I finally trust someone enough to talk to them about this. Which I do. And it feels incredibly good to be able to unburden myself occasionally.
But this also means I have less to say here. I haven't felt the urge to write in a while either, but the minute it comes back, I'll be back here. Until then, have a wonderful summer. I'm taking a sabbatical.

Because the suitcase is fit to burst

2010-04-18T03:01:00.002+05:30

It is brought to focus by other luggage. Suitcases all on the verge of exploding.
And what I stuff into mine, resembles none of the others.
It's not all lingerie. Scraps of torn jeans, a faded comfort t-shirt, and 3 pairs of mismatches socks.
It's a life. It's many loves.
Let it be noted however, that we do not necessarily define 'love' the same way.
But each one as important to the character and shape of the luggage.
And a few contraptions to make it easier to carry, so I can bounce ahead into life,
smile still on my face.
Plenty of je ne sais quoi to make it worth a peek or two.
Nothing longer or more intense than that though. There are rules, y'know?

Life lies, like the movies

2010-03-29T21:17:00.002+05:30

So, apparently, despite what the movies say, tourniquets are not the ultimate solution to a bleeding wound. Unless, of course, there's no hope in saving the limb in the first place.
I could say the same about emotional tourniquets. You think something is saving you. But it's not. It's killing you. In the slowest, sneakiest way possible.

Movies also make you think that telling a person you love them is the hardest thing.
It's not.
Telling someone you're supposed to love, that you actually hate them- that's nearly impossible. Not as difficult as finally accepting that you don't love or trust them, but close enough.
So, if I've already crossed that bridge, does it mean I'll finally be able to cut the strings that are strangling me?
Somehow, I doubt it. And in times like this, thank god for the tourniquet. I'd cut my nose to spite my face, or as I prefer to see it, I'd rather be an amputee than dead.
I'd drink to that. Wine, or even hemlock. Whichever suits the occasion best.

Starry Eyed Surprise

2010-03-27T02:17:00.004+05:30

The explosion of colour, it hurts my eyes.
The brilliance of a galaxy, floating around me,
The stars touching places inside of me, overwhelming me.
The light is all merged, and brilliant.
It fights to reach me. Conflicting rays of light
battling for my attention.
It exists. And it exists, glittering around me.
It is too much. It is more than my eyes can see.
The black of failure tinges the edges
And they are just the perfect blur, swirling green-black.
It is bright. And then it is not.
And the memory is imperfect and a shadow.
But it remains. Strong and beautiful enough to last the haze,
and outlive the confusion and assault.

A Waltz For A Night

2010-03-20T22:39:00.002+05:30

Because sometimes even bitches get sentimental and nostalgic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obuV1KrvEYo

And I'm never watching before sunset again.

why I occasionally hate caffeine

2010-03-20T22:32:00.003+05:30

I want to close my eyes, but the little coffee people won't let me
So I stay awake, and I listen, not understanding
as the fat man on the screen drones on about "mlechteborge...z"
Ah! A look of understanding dawns upon my face, an understanding of the futility of this all.
And yet the man speak on, slurs on,
potentially the unfunniest drunk ever- "Technical hamminy fleur", he says emphatically, "consequences of repeated clunkerton....dabbit. Isn't ducker blingen possible?" A question. It brings forth my nod of incomprehension.
Yes! Yes! If I shout it, will you shut it? He nods in return, and the screen fades to black. I sigh with relief.
"Frackthemelin"

awkward mornings

2010-02-26T07:51:00.002+05:30

So, I was woken up really early this morning because, well, my clothes have been found. Not all of them, but a sufficient amount to ruin my morning by making it particularly awkward. The thing is, when you live in close quarters with people, there are some unwritten rules, like the typical sort of rules by which any society functions. And when said rules are broken, it makes thing strange and difficult.
I'm glad my t-shirts were found, but I'm always going to feel slightly guilty and bad if that girl's life here is ruined. I mean, I know I said I'd gouge her eyes out, but all I ever wanted was to have my t-shirts returned. I would have allowed her to keep her anonymity if she had just returned them. But she didn't, and now we're all stuck in this awkward dance. Point being, not the most pleasant morning I've had this year.

Top 5 reasons why I love High Fidelity

2010-02-23T22:54:00.003+05:30

1. The soundtrack. I mean, really, it's brilliant.
2. Pop culture references.
3. John Cusack. I heart him. There's just something so intense about him, even when he's being absolutely self involved.
4. Jack Black. And most particularly, Jack Black singing Let's Get it On, originally by Marvin Gaye. Probably my most favourite cover of the song, ever.
5. The line "Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?".

I'm back, I think. =)

Disney love

2010-02-04T23:07:00.002+05:30

So, it's been a while. I've been busy. Saarang happened. And it was hectic and painful and torturous. But it's now over and I'm putting the entire experience behind me.
Instead, I am drowning myself in Disney movies. I found someone with a collection of Disney movies, chronologically ordered. Starting with Cinderella, 1950.. right through to Wall.E, 2008. How awesome is that?
I'm already done with quite a few, including one which starred Sean Connery as a young Irishman (very very strange). Anyway, Disney aside, I am doing well, if having a rather lazy time of it.
I've also discovered that I'm a bit of a bitch in the manger. Or I can be. But I shall not. Because it's stupid, pointless, and if I don't want something, I shouldn't get annoyed about someone else wanting it or having it or whatever. So yes, I can be a bitch in the manger, but I am not one and will not be one.
Also, there's a kleptomaniac on the loose in my hostel. Everytime I do laundry, tshirts of mine keep vanishing off the line. I'm very annoyed now. If I find the girl wearing my clothes, I will gouge her eyes out. It's no wonder I have no faith in the world... it constantly gives me reason not to.

Bring it on, bitches

2010-01-12T21:59:00.002+05:30

This day just keeps getting better and better.
I had class with a professor I've discovered I really really loathe. I had basketball practice after 2 months of near complete inactivity, accompanied by lots of unhealthy eating, drinking, and what not. I almost died running on the court today. Then dinner was crap, but that's the state usually. Now, I have singing practice at midnight, which means yet another late night with little sleep.
And I had to have a conversation with this guy, who's technically from my motherland, but being the incompetent that I am, and incapable of speaking my own mother tongue, I had to listen to him speak in broken English, in a conversation that seem to never end. I had to answer his stupid questions, with stupid answers, dumbed down for his better understanding. And even as I bitch in this ridiculously condescending manner, I know I shouldn't, and I feel guilty, and that just makes me feel even more annoyed with the stupid boy.
It's not really his fault that he called soon after one of the bands we'd picked to play at my college cancelled on us. Because they were hoping we'd fund their airfare perhaps? Or because they're just idiots, who are part of this mass conspiracy to piss me off? I dunno, but I'm sending very negative vibes towards them now. Suffer bitches, suffer!
Also, I'm very PMS-y now. But, only I get to say that. If anybody (if anybody else even reads this shit anymore) calls me PMS-y, I'll bitchslap them from here to fricking New Zealand.
And to top it all off.. my Media Player library just vanished. Which means I'll have to sync all the files again. Say it with me: Double You. Tee. Eff. Like really.
:|
I'm going to sleep. And when I'm woken up for practice two hours from now, I'm going to hope like hell that either armageddon has come (in which case I don't wake up at all), or all this shit clears up on it's own. Because I haven't the energy to fix things. I'm going to sleep.
You don't honestly expect to wish you goodnight, do you?

Not just any anti-smoking campaign

2010-01-08T20:34:00.003+05:30

Ok, so I'm back from Bombay. And I thought that my first post post that would be a "Why I would totally live in Bombay" one, but then I got busy, and then I started to obsessively listen to the latest offering from Sid Coutto with his latest band, Tough on Tobacco, called The Happy Goat.
After listening to the album over and over, I can only say this: I'm a Happy Goat. Really. It is such a ridiculously cheery album. I've been humming it all day and grinning. Most of the songs have such ridiculous lyrics, I love them. From the reggae and african rhthym undertones, to the multiple vice references- I'm addicted to the album. And the best part? It's can be downloaded for free off of their website. http://toughontobacco.in/
Go. Download it now. You won't regret it.

Oh also. Bombay really was fabulous. Really truly. I met some incredibly nice people, ate some really nice food, and just fell in love with the life of the city. It was just the caffeine shot my life was in dire need of. I'll post about it soon. :)

Porcupine Tree

2009-12-23T16:45:00.002+05:30

So, people who know me, know I don't usually drool over frontmen of bands. But steve wilson = yummy.
The concert was fabulous. Sound nearly as good as that of the Mr. Big concert. And all in all, I loved it.

P.s. I think it's that british accent. Slurp.

Who would've thought... it figures

2009-12-21T00:57:00.002+05:30

So, it's ironic that I thought it was meaningful conversation, meaningful enough for me to worry about your supposed depression, and panic on another continent. But for you, for you I was just "endless online distraction".
Honestly, I don't care anymore. Really. Be miserable, be depressed. Or don't be either. Be nothing at all. And it wouldn't matter anymore. Because it doesn't. And I'm wondering if it ever did. Because, for all that, I realised that I haven't worried about you in a while. And despite what I said, I haven't really missed you. But it would be mean to say that. So I won't. I'm still your friend. I just don't care that much. It's too much of an effort, and I really don't have the time or energy. Be safe.

Primary school- the sequel.

2009-12-15T19:47:00.002+05:30

So, I met my friends from primary school- people I have not seen in about seven or eight years, and it was.. fun. Honestly. I was surprised. I mean, not like I went there expecting it to be a drag. But, I haven't seen these people in a long time, and people change over long periods of time. And just because we got along when I was 10, wasn't to say we would still get along at 20. But we did. Get along, that is. And it was really fun. They funned me plenty though, straightfaced theatre-kids. But it was funny stuff, completely outrageous stories. And admittedly, I was gullible at first, and then ridiculously suspicious afterwards as a result. But again, fun. Of course, the conversation did make way too many trips to blackberrys(ies?), theatre and cricket. But then again, they were all boys. I love making sweeping generalisations. Anyway, all in all, I had a fun day today.
Now, the 'but' part. So, while I was out, my friend asked me if I'd ever consider moving back to Delhi. I umm-ed a bit. But yeah, NO. Why? Here's why: I love Madras at the end of the day. Again, WHY?!? Well,
1. Madras has no social life. Which makes it very easy on my pocket.
2. The people I do socialise with in Madras are as broke as I am, which again makes it very easy on my pocket.
3. Madras has a beach. Boo-yah!
4. Madras is not really a place for clubbing and drinking. People here are more relaxed. You get even more relaxed, go for some concert, and just chill out with some funk. It's good.
5. It's homey. People are nice. And there are no perpetual news reports of murders, rapes and thefts.
6. I know Madras, I can travel around Madras, I'm comfortable here.

Admittedly, eventually the comfort will become annoying, and I'll want a change. But I dunno if I could ever live long term in Delhi. End of the day, this city just scares me. Some, stress on the some, people here are violent, rude, angry or impatient, or various combinations of the 4 and they totally kill it for all the nice people I know who do live here. The point is, while many Delhi-ites I'm sure will rant and rave about how amazing their city is, I don't see it. I could not live here, and be scared all the time. I just don't get the "heart" in this city.

What I want

2009-12-08T20:46:00.000+05:30

I want you to be my Elvis and touch my inner smile.

Winter

2009-12-07T12:23:00.002+05:30

Because I feel guilty about km who is updating his blog everyday!
So, my first cousin got married. Aye ee, he is both the first cousin of mine to get married, and he is also my cousin only once removed. And he is now married. And I attended the wedding, dressed in a mundu (two piece sari like thing, and if you don't know what a sari is, well then there's no hope left for you) and then later a sari (which is like a one piece mundu, and if you don't know what a mundu is, even after I explained it to you, then you're an idiot. Really.). And so yeah, he got married. Which was fun. And then we killed his wedding night. Which was also fun. We put beads under his sheets, and in case he tried to dust them off, we put talcum powder too. We also put alarm clocks set at very strategically chosen times, and hidden in very strategic locations. Then we hid squeaky toys under the mattress which squeaked every time someone sat on them. And as a slightly classier final touch, we put two notes on the dressing table. The first read "In case you get bored", next to which we placed two kids toys- one flute, and one noisemaker. The second note read "In case you need the energy", next to which we left a box of glucose, since we couldn't find Redbull in the little temple town where we were.
He hasn't spoken to us since then. I hope it's because he's busy with his wife, and not because we attempted to ruin his night.

Doobie Scoo.

2009-11-14T02:07:00.003+05:30

So, once upon a time, in a galaxy not far away, there lived a dog. It was a German shepherd. During Hitler's reign, they used dogs to round up and 'shepherd' the Germans (of the non-jewish variety) to join the armed forces. This dog was one of those dogs. However, after Hitler was killed by Tarantino and his Inglorious Basterds, these Germans were no longer needed, or forced to join the armed forces. And hence, the German shepherding dog, too lost his means of feeding himself. For, what does a dog who only knows shepherding, do when the people he had shepherded no longer needed to be shepherded. Well, it . Well, what does a shepherd do when there's no shepherding.
So, one day, this unemp ex-german shepherding dog (ook, wait, it should be an unemp german ex-shepherding dog as it has not stopped being german, though is no longer a shepherd) came across a group jazz playing dogs. And then there was music. And all was well.

All growed up.

2009-10-28T17:59:00.002+05:30

You know you're no longer a child when the 'adults' in your world tell you to stop expecting anything from life, when they actually encourage your apathy.
And so, suddenly I'm at the head of the class. Booyah!

Unrequited like is a bitch.

2009-10-18T19:39:00.002+05:30

Q. Will you wait for 8 minutes?
A. I think I could wait a lifetime. But then again, I'm just words on a 2-D screen, not the girl sleeping in your bed. Take that for tragic poetry.

spree.

2009-10-17T15:41:00.002+05:30

as with any addiction, dependence, the only way out is to cut yourself off your source completely.
tick.

feels

2009-10-17T03:16:00.000+05:30

alone.

Brave little girl

2009-10-16T18:23:00.002+05:30

Have you ever considered that perhaps being brave and unemotional about the things that really matter is actually a curse? I mean, for most situations in my life, I don't cry. For books, movies, songs, I bawl all the time. But when I really really need the cathartic benefit of a good cry, it just completely eludes me. Instead, my misery sits within me, and just aches. And it accomplishes nothing at all. I'd rather be completely miserable for a short period, than a little miserable all the time.
I cried once this semester. And over the strangest of reasons. Not strange to most women around the world, but it was strange to me. It was strange mostly because it was uncalled for, and unnecessary. But dear god, it felt good afterwards. And right now, two of my favourite cousins, and my brother, are all in Bombay having a ball. Together to celebrate one cousin's birthday. And I'm stuck here on campus. Now would be a good time for a cry. Except it absolutely refuses to do me a favour and just flow. So, I'm just going to wallow in my misery and attempt to drown out the sounds of fireworks outside that prove how alone in this misery I am.

Mr. Big live in Bangalore

2009-10-11T11:57:00.002+05:30

If you were there you'd understand what I'm feeling right now.

If you weren't, well you're an idiot and not worth a blog post in explanation.

Plus, I haven't recovered enough to be able to put it into words. I will. Eventually.

But basically: you had to have been there. You have no excuse for not being there.

A dozen dozens

2009-10-02T12:28:00.002+05:30

I don't want to turn twenty tomorrow. I want to be stardust. And golden.
I want to be seventeen in 1969.
It's been forty years, and we still don't get it. Isn't that sort of tragic?

The cure

2009-09-29T22:40:00.003+05:30

Not, not the band. But I think I've figured out how to resolve my current dilemma. And here's my brilliant solution:

I need something to be excited about.

I was really happy today, only for about an hour, but I was happy. And it was all because I went out in the rain. And I was excited. And that's what I need. Except something that will excite me to the very depths of my soul (assuming I have one), so that the happiness is less temporary.

So, yes, now I have figured out what I need. I just need to figure out how I'm going to get it. Sigh. But, atleast I have a purpose of some sort now. I feel better about that atleast.

In the meantime, happy Jackson Five music is in order. "Oh baby give me one more chhhhaaaaance, (to show you that I love you), won't. you. please. let. meeeee. (back in your heart)" :D :D

I have absolutely no idea what this is. Really.

2009-09-26T21:59:00.002+05:30

I’ve been having this dream where I’m climbing this mountain. It’s a really tall mountain and I keep trudging up it. At first I can actually see the top of the mountain, but gradually it gets foggy, and I can barely see 3 feet in front of me. And then the fog becomes cloud cover, and gradually it gets tougher to breathe. I struggle on because I’m sure that the peak can’t be too far away. But the air is so thin, that I soon collapse and roll back down the mountain. I pass out. And when I wake up, I’m back where I started, and have a long way up to go.
Either that, or I died at the end of the dream, and I begin dreaming the same dream again, from the start.
“And how does that make you feel?”
I get up from the couch and stare at the psychiatrist. He’s joking, right? Well, obviously I’m not thinking rainbows and daisies. Has he even heard a word I said? I doubt it, he’s still scribbling, and I haven’t even said anything worth writing down.
“It makes me feel like crap. Like either everything I’ve achieved so far in my life is soon to become redundant. Or everything in my life is and always has been redundant, and that my attempting to survive this life is ridiculous.” I don’t like feeling ridiculous. I’d rather leave that unsaid. I don’t think anyone really likes feeling ridiculous.
“And aside from feeling like ‘crap’”, he made little air quotes, “do you feel anything else? Anxiety perhaps? Disappointment? Anger, even?”
Anxious as hell. But how does an apathetic person admit to anxiety. When you appear to be the person who wouldn’t even blink when faced with either side of a gun, how do you explain that the idea of having no direction or having a pointless existence makes your stomach churn? Or that you feel physically ill at the idea that the world will move on without even a whisper of a reaction, should you die this very minute.
“I guess I might feel anxious if I cared.” I rolled my eyes.
He sat up and looked up from his pad for the first time. “And why are you here if you don’t care? You did come here voluntarily, didn’t you?”
I stared at the tips of my shoes. “I was just curious, is all.”
“Curious enough to come here. Curiosity indicates interest. And if you took the time to come here and figure it out, doesn’t that mean perhaps that you do care?”
My shoes are unusually black. And polished. I don’t ever recall polishing them. That’s strange.
“And is it so very wrong to care?” He really is relentless.
“What’s the point? Clearly it’s all redundant.”
He seemed amused for a minute. He smiled. “Well, that’s a bit of a circular argument, wouldn’t you say? You’re anxious because it’s all redundant. But you won’t be anxious because it’s all redundant.”
Um. Okay, now I’m confused.
“Ok, Mr. Kay, I’m not your typical psychiatrist. I’m not going to mollycoddle you and allow you to whine like a two-year old. You are going to have to decide whether or not you care. And then you are going to do something about it. I’m not going to allow for childish illusions of apathy and this silly mask you deem necessary for your ridiculous ‘image’.”
He paused. Bloody drill sergeant.
“Do you. Or do you not. Care?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Answer the question I asked you. I did not ask you if you wanted to or not. I asked you if you did or did not.”
I have a routine with my apathy. There is a way and manner to my life in not caring. If I agree to care now, my entire life will change. I am not a big fan of change.
As if he could read my mind he said, “It is not a huge change. You are not moving from not caring, to caring. You are simply moving from not admitting you care, to accepting that you do.”
“You seem to already know all the answers.” Wisecrack, I added silently.
“So, do you. You’re just being stubborn about it all.”
“What if I do care? How does that change the fact that life is indeed redundant? And pointless? How does admitting that I care about my problem, make the problem go away?”
He smiled again. Smug bastard. “Does that mean you’re admitting you care?”
“I would, if there was a point to it”, I retorted.
He frowned. “Stop behaving like a child, Mr. Kay.”
Circular arguments are not childish. Children are blunt. They haven’t the capacity to be vague and circular. That’s a talent one gains only with adulthood. I’m as adult as they come.
“And stop being such a coward, Mr. Kay.”
That was a bit harsh. He clearly is a big fan of plain-speaking. As am I. As long as I’m not on the receiving end.
I guess it was time for the deep soul-spilling monologue. “I care. I don’t want to, but I do. I suppose it’s impossible for someone to actually go through life completely detached.” I sat up. “Maybe if I lived on a deserted island and never had to interact with anything or anyone but myself, then perhaps I could manage it. But apathy is a little difficult when you’re part of a race that thrives on interfering in a person’s life. You have family, and friends, and neighbours, and colleagues, and acquaintances, whatever the hell not. It’s downright aggravating to be honest. I don’t want to need these people in my life. I don’t want to be dependent on anybody for anything. I don’t want to be here talking to you about any of this. But apparently I need to. Just as I need to live in this world with everyone else, and need to survive, and need to be of use. So ‘Doc’, if it isn’t too much of an issue, could you please just help me figure this out?”
“Wow. It’s been a while since you asked for help, huh?”

Righto, and then an asteroid hit earth, and everything blew up. Sorry, I don't know what the hell I just wrote, well typed. But I wrote/typed, which is something. I haven't done it in a while. And I don't even know if that's complete. Or if it means anything at all. Or whatever. Sigh. I don't know if you should even have read it. But here goes nothing. *Hits 'Publish Post' key*

this is me, now.

2009-09-19T22:11:00.002+05:30

I'm feeling horribly restless. And I don't mean that just physically. Though that's a part of it too. But I mean this in a more soul-deep kind of way. It's not like there hasn't been stuff happening, it's just that none of it has really impacted me in anyway. And it's reached a point where I'm almost looking forward to total emotional upheaval just so I know I haven't become some kind of android.
Friday, I had basketball practice, which really should have tired me out. But then I went for a walk later that night, covered about 9 km in an hour and a half. And that really, truly should have tired me out. But no, I was still wide awake, and still really restless. And I sort of figured then, that it clearly wasn't just physical restlessness. And being away from campus hasn't helped it. And I can't take time on my own, I think I would die of boredom if I spent anymore time in my head. So really, does anyone know a) what is wrong with me, and b) how to cure it? Because honestly, I am actually a bit worried. Apathy is all very well, but this is just a bit too much even for me to handle.

Dig the Mr. Big Gig

2009-09-15T21:43:00.002+05:30

Looks to be a fun year for me, musically speaking.
To begin with:
Oct 10th - Mr. Big performs in Bangalore. Definitely going for that, somehow. And just so everybody knows, Paul Gilbert became Paul Gilbert, famous guitar virtuoso, largely because of the success of Mr. Big. So stop calling it Paul Gilbert's other band. Uncool.
Nov 7th - Guns 'N Roses. Say what you want, but you know every one of the songs on Appetite For Destruction (probably even Use Your Illusions, both I and II) by heart. There's no point even trying to deny it. Much as I'd love to go though, I don't think I'm free that weekend. :(
Dec 21st - Porcupine Tree in Bombay. Admittedly, I'm new to the band. I have only recently started listening to them, and aside from the few superlong psychadelic songs, I honestly like all their other stuff. And I love Steve Wilson's hair. I really do.
Spring 2010 - Placebo!! AAAAAH! :D Every You Every Me. Cruel Intentions. 'Nuff said.

Yes, I'm looking forward to the coming year. Now, if Incubus, John Mayer, RHCP, U2, CSN, Pearl Jam and The Strokes come, I could be really happy. Pliss? Pritty Pliss?

Thirteen Square

2009-09-12T00:51:00.002+05:30

I've had a really perfect Friday. Wine, cheese, David Gilmour at Albert Hall feat. David Crosby and Graham Nash of CSNY fame, and crab curry to really hit the spot. I was so relaxed the roof could have collapsed on me and I wouldn't have known. More importantly, I wouldn't have cared.
The David Gilmour concert was probably the highlight of the evening. Watching him, listening to him, it was like the soundtrack to a movie made of the happiest moments of my life. Perhaps with the slightest tinge of nostalgia. I mean, how does he make everything mean so much and be so beautiful. I know, I'm not doing too great a job describing it. I guess you'd only understand after you watch it. Particularly the second and third songs. With their multiple harmonies, and the guitar and the sax and everything. It was near overwhelming.

Honestly, if I'd been a teenager in the 60s, perhaps Gilmour would be to me, what Mayer is to me today.
I may as well admit it, I have an old-man-crush on David Gilmour. Could you even question it? I doubt it. Watch the video and you may understand.

Suis-je étrange?

2009-09-06T17:54:00.002+05:30

Am I? I don't know actually. I can't even tell at what point I stopped joking and got serious. Or at what point I stopped being serious and joined the laughter.
Je ne sais pas si je suis bizarre, mais j'aime être différente. I'm just not sure is all.

The french is cos I just watched Il Ya Longtemps Que Je T'aime. I have loved you for a long time.
And I really did love the movie. For whatever reason. Beaudy.

Well, I really should get back to my studying.

Étrange ou pas, je vivrai.

And I used only a dictionary and my own poor knowledge of french for this. The google translator was to get the accents. I promise.

Beirut : Scenic World

2009-08-28T12:33:00.002+05:30

Listen to it. From the Black Session album in particular. With the violins.
It is beauty. And I'm stuck in a moment that I can't get out of.

"When I feel alive, I try to imagine a careless life
A scenic world where the sunsets are all
Breathtaking."

Love and college

2009-08-25T00:02:00.002+05:30

It isn't college, and it isn't almost-no-longer-teenage-love till you have a hole in your mattress.
C'est la vie, n'estce pas?

Schloopy.

2009-08-20T11:35:00.003+05:30

And no amount of Shirtaloon jokes, or happy music is helping. I think I shall just have to live through it, with the moody music, and the weird restlessness, and hope it doesn't become a Zblub. In the meantime, I shall also try to get over the weird nightmarish idea of labouring to birth a child with a turban. And I shall dream of being rescued by Spaniard Wharton graduates by the name of Jose. Ho-zey.

How to while away time

2009-08-11T18:51:00.003+05:30

So, college is terribly dull. That clearly isn't an update.
However, in attempt to pass the time, I have taken to (obsessively) watching old episodes of Top Gear, (obsessively) listening to Vampire Weekend and sleeping (like a coma patient... almost). And yes, that is an update, of sorts. Also, seeing as the Top Gear won't last me much longer, can anyone suggest anything else to watch? Anything that might also get me to stop crushing on Richard Hammond like a complete midget-loving weirdo?

Insti. Again.

2009-08-04T17:41:00.002+05:30

I'm back in college.
For my 5th semester.
Including this semester, I have 6 more to go.
This sucks.
I hate being back.

Why trains are such a kickass way to travel.

2009-07-20T23:34:00.002+05:30

KM, c'est pour toi:
I rediscovered beauty this weekend. Imagine being on a train, in particular, standing in the doorway, with the breeze blowing everything into a blur. All you can see is a mass of green, foggy green. And you have Clocks, by Coldplay playing loudly, almost completely drowing out the rumble of the train. And it's amazing. I've never felt so small, or so big, actually. Admittedly, deep, resonant, moment.

Though, I wouldn't want you to think I was having deep, resonant moments throughout my journey. I actually spent large parts of my travel-time, up on my berth, watching the Harry Potter movies on my laptop. I know, pathetic. But I was sitting next to a very antsy Bengali lady who was just itching for a fight. It seemed safer to just hide. Either way, fun trip.

Oh and update: I'm in Indore now. It's a um, nice city. Very calm and relaxed and stuff. And I plan to enjoy my time here, not do anything, except maybe play Wii, watch movies and generally veg out. Should be fun! :)

my trail of breadcrumbs

2009-07-08T10:46:00.000+05:30

I lost the first 6 years somewhere and they’re too far gone to ever come back to me.
I found my 7 year old self in the Roxette song “How do You Do?”
I found my 8 year old self in a bag of Peppy Cheese Pops.
I found my 9 year old self in an old copy of Tintin in ‘The Seven Crystal Balls’.
I found my 10 year old self in a Facebook message from a primary school crush.
I found my 11 year old self in a purple bicycle.
I found my 12 year old self in a pair of broken spectacles.
I found my 13 year old self in my now 13 year old cousin.
I found my 14 year old self an old photograph.
I found my 15 year old self in a diary entry about my first kiss.
I found my 16 year old self in an old pair of jeans I though I’d lost.
I found my 17 year old self in a farewell letter my friend wrote me when we graduated from high school.
I found my 18 year old self in an old chat/conversation on Googlechat.
And twenty years down the line, will I find my 19 year old self in this blogpost?
Did I possibly just save 13 years for me to remember?
I hope so.

The OST of your life meme.

2009-07-06T21:15:00.004+05:30

Yes, I totally flicked this off Felicity's blog.
Considering I have Disney soundtracks and stuff, this should have some interesting results. :P

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, Zune etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

Opening Credits: Two Princes - Spin Doctors

Waking Up: La La La Zoom Zoom Zoom - Incubus

First Day At School: You Don't Understand Me - Mando Diao

Falling In Love: Sara - Bob Dylan

Fight Song: Ms. Jackson - Outkast

Breaking Up: Art School Girl - Stone Temple Pilots

Prom night: Dancing Queen - Abba (I knew I should have deleted all the damn Abba. :( )

Life: Carry On/Questions - CSN

Mental Breakdown: Naked in Front of the Computer - Faith No More

Driving: Calling All Angels - Train

Flashback: Sleeping In - The Postal Service

Getting back together: Seven Seas of Rhye - Queen [Ironically, here's a line from the song : "I will destroy any man who dares abuse my trust".. :P]

Wedding: Stop the Rock - Apollo Four Forty. [Atleast now it's confirmed my wedding's gonna be a partay!]

Birth of Child: False Flags - Massive Attack [ROFL.. please go listen to the song to understand why]

Final Battle: Overture - The Who

Funeral Song: High Tide or Low Tide - Originally by Bob Marley but as covered by Ben Harper and Jack Johnson. [I think I'd cry at a funeral where this was played]

Final Credits: (Pick 3 songs)
Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
Children in Bloom - Counting Crows
Wilt- Blind Melon

P.S - If you decide to take up this meme, do leave a link to your post as a comment. :)

I quite like most of the songs my shuffle mode picked. :) But yes, like Felicity, I think I'd like to write out the proper soundtrack someday.

This isn't the sound of settling

2009-07-02T15:34:00.003+05:30

I don't like you. You know why? Aside from making me like you, you always voice my own doubts. And I hate that. And I hate you.
When I'm not missing you.
And it's then I know I can't do this.
I hope you're happy. I won't settle. I can't settle. And it's all your fault.

I would explain if I could, but I can't

2009-06-30T16:17:00.001+05:30

Ok, for the last um, fourteen months or so, I’ve been over-thinking things. It’s the once-bitten-twice-shy syndrome. And you know what, everyone told me not to. Over-think i.e. Over-analyse. But I did. Because well I’m a once-bitten-100 times-shy kind of girl. Call me a coward if you will, but it works. I haven’t been bitten since. And I’ve plodded along with my over-thinking and over-analysing, till I got hit by a huge dose of oneliness. Not emotionally, but simple things, like an occasional hug. And it threw my caution out the window. Sucks. I didn’t even have time to think this one through. I didn’t think, I reacted, I got swept on by the combination of 5 chat conversations with varied advice and the general excitement of.. oh I dunno.. something.. instead of the odd lull and ofcourse, the oneliness. But yes, I didn’t give myself time to think. And I’m thinking now. And I’m panicking. Oh god. Did I possibly just do something a fair bit stupid?...

LL Uncool

2009-06-30T13:17:00.001+05:30

Enough has been said, and you have yet to open your mouth.
I’m gaping, like a brainless goldfish,
I don’t understand, I don’t
Like a little schoolgirl of five,
I want you to explain.
Write it out on a board if you must,
Draw me a flow chart,
Show me sign cards.
But explain,
Explain what is so plainly written,
What is so clearly understood,
What I ought to have known,
What I have being lying about,
What will not be.

the restaurant critic

2009-06-29T11:07:00.000+05:30

With that affected little sniff of yours,
You drive me to distraction,
Looking down on me and my urchin friends
With that expression of elegant distaste,
But you’re his friend, so I smile,
If hesitantly,
You sneer and look at your nails,
I roll my eyes but neither of you notice,
Noxious and obnoxious
I could see you stubbing me out
As you do your extra slim cigarette,
Menthol flavoured,
Pretentious bitch,
Wither.

The Last Waltz

2009-06-28T18:05:00.001+05:30

If you love music, go watch it. Now.

You're stuck in the middle, and the pain is thunder

2009-06-26T10:32:00.002+05:30

Michael Jackson died. I know, it’s really strange to say it. I may not have been the biggest fan, but anyone who has lived through the late eighties and early nineties would have definitely listened to a lot of his music. From Thriller, to Billie Jean; Wanna be Startin’ Something to Beat it; even that phase of social messages in songs with Heal the World and Black or White. The point being that for all his oddities and eccentricities, he was a musical institution. It’s a real pity he didn’t get to do his farewell tour. He shall be sorely missed. R.I.P. Michael Jackson.

And just so everyone knows, while the King of Pop is gone, Farah Fawcett also passed away. And while she may have been a generation older, I have some fond memories of her as well. I remember when they used to play re-runs of Charlie's Angels when I was ten, and I used to run back home, sit down with my custard and watch her in action. I used to want to grow up and be a butt-kicking agent watching that. She too will be missed.

Also, everyone please note, Jeff Goldblum isn't dead. Nor is Harrison Ford. Stupid bloody hoaxes.

damned radiohead and other such depressing music

2009-06-22T10:54:00.000+05:30

I’m done playing solitaire
Not that I’m ready to play bridge or hearts
But a game of vingt-et-un, blackjack, pontoon?
I don’t mind if you don’t deal me a fair hand
Just deal me one.
I’ll lose, I’m sure of it,
No luck in love, none in cards.
But I’ll play. And I’ll play,
Till I’ve forgotten how to play solitaire and I want to learn it again.
And then I’ll learn.
And others will come to your card table. And you will deal them hands like you never dealt me.
And when I’m bored again, I’ll find another table.
And hopefully be dealt a fairer hand.

Batman and Robin Hood

2009-06-20T20:08:00.004+05:30

That's what you get when you add Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Johnny Depp with a moustache, Johnny Depp with a mocking sense of humour, machine guns, vintage cars, Johnny Depp as a gangster, and the true story of John Dillinger, one of America's most feared yet beloved criminals. I can't wait to see 'Public Enemies', because despite some bad reviews, I can't imagine a Johnny Depp and Christian Bale movie being bad. I think they are probably two of the most talented and versatile actors of today, and hot to boot. And really, a movie about a '20s American gangster? How could it possibly go wrong? Personally, I think the trailer looks kick-ass, and I just cannot wait for it to come out in theatres here.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! NEW JOHNNY DEPP MOVIE! WHEEEEEEEE! :D :D <3

Stress-relieving rant

2009-06-19T11:02:00.002+05:30

So, Indian government websites really suck. They have the worst search engines. On the occasions when they do have search engines that is. But by far, the search engine on Ministry of Company Affairs is the worst. While ordinary search engines narrow your search down with every word you add, MCA's search engine works the other way around. For example, I searched for 'Indian Hotels Company', and I got 1876 results. When I searched for 'Indian Hotels', I got 539 results. Whereas when I searched for just 'Hotels', I got 218 results.
Basically, the search engine was searching for every mention of 'Indian' and 'Hotels' and 'Company'. That's right, not 'Or'.. but 'And'.
!!!!
Can you blame me for being so damned frustrated with my work right now?!

Argh.

What interning has done to me

2009-06-18T14:13:00.002+05:30

Well, according to the Third Grade Insult Generator my name is Captain Dummy A. McStinkybutt.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

12.

2009-06-12T10:13:00.000+05:30

I haven’t blogged in a while. I know. Sue me, I am an intern. It’s what we do: not have time. We stare at screens and pretend to understand things that we either aren’t listening to or just don’t care about. We drink copious amounts of tea and spend the rest of the time getting it out of our system. We check our email obsessively, but try not to chat much so as to not feel entirely guilty. We read blogs pretending it is part of our research. We re-read emails to remember exactly what we were supposed to be doing research about. We wonder why we were ever ambitious and proactive enough to get ourselves internships in the first place. We wonder at our entire lack of motivation and worse, our complete disregard for the organisation’s principles. We worry a little and shrug off our insensitivity towards the supposedly ‘tragic’ causes that the organisation aims to aid. We seriously doubt our capacity to contribute in anyway to said causes. We however nod sympathetically when our colleagues speak of said tragic causes. We watch the clock wondering how and when a second became so long. We cry “Woe is me” every time we get stuck in a traffic jam on our way back from work. We swear to quit and not return the next day. We manage to somehow find the strength to trudge back to the bus stop the next day. We make it to work on a miracle, promising to ourselves that the day will be different from yesterday. However, we aren’t particularly surprised when nothing changes.
Then again, this may not be all of us. This could just be me. Shame on me, huh?

interning..

2009-05-31T21:33:00.002+05:30

I'm in Bangalore. And I start my intern tomorrow. I have a one hour commute there (atleast). So yes, I'm excited. Isn't it obvious?
If you know my number, please call me and cheer me up. I'm sure I'll need it.

Exceptions

2009-05-28T16:50:00.003+05:30

For all the rules I make for myself, I would like to include an exception.
Like he said, "we may grow old, get married, but I'll always know you better than him". "Him" ofcourse being my husband, whoever that poor soul may end up being. But yes, for all we argue and fight and fight and argue, we know each other best. He is probably one of the few people, possibly the only person, who can really get under my skin and bug me. And I'd like to think vice versa, only because I've never seen him lose his temper with anyone except me.. and my mom ofcourse. So for all the times he held my hand when I couldn't fall asleep, or practiced painful wrestling moves on me, or supported me, or talked down to me, or whatever, I guess I owe my big bro a thank you for sticking around. And here it is. <3

How could I forget?!

2009-05-24T01:13:00.003+05:30

I cannot believe I forgot to mention this along with all the other updates:
Federer Beat Nadal!
HA! Here's an "IN-YOUR-FACE" to all the idiots who said Federer was on his way out. Nadal, of the permanent-wedgie, is going to take atleast a couple more solid punches from classic tennis. And I couldn't be happier.

Weird. I know, even for me.

2009-05-23T04:19:00.000+05:30

Like a song that makes me cry,
I’m not sure whether I’m happy
Or whether these tears of joy could easily be mistaken for those identical siblings,
The bitter ones clothed in black, with slit wrists
Or more figuratively bleeding anatomy.

If I said that I was confused
Would it be an acceptable excuse
For the twisted mind games which I don’t honestly mean to play,
What if I said, it just comes naturally to me
Like breathing would to you.

I am just a touch colour blind,
Just a shade out of my mind,
Maybe it’s because of the weird indie music and the bad action movies,
Or worse, the peppy songs and the romantic comedies,
Would you watch Death at a Funeral with me?

And if I die laughing,
Would you bury me in a coffin,
Set me on fire and feed me to the vultures cooked and ready to eat
I’m still laughing, you wannabe-stand-up-comedian
Funniest joke at The Last Supper. Period.

Eleventy one.

2009-05-22T22:34:00.002+05:30

This is the 111th post on my blog. Whoo!
:P
The week's update:
1. Kris Allen won American Idol. YAAAAY! I wanted him to win, but I thought that Adam Lambert would win because everyone seems to like him. Honestly speaking, I hate the shrieking. If Adam Lamber shrieked less, and looked a little less emo, maybe I would have liked him. But he didn't. Plus Kris is cute, and he plays the piano and the guitar. He may sound a little pansy, but I like him, and he won. :D
2. Doompy left. :( I miss her already. Plus, it's reminded me that I'm leaving in a week. This just sucks.
3. I watched a bunch of movies this week. Loved a fair number of them too.
a) Bolt: That dog is so cute I could just cuddle him to death. Except he's not real. But whatever. So cute!!
b) Monsters vs Aliens: Funny. But not the funniest animated movie I've seen. And no super cute animal to make up for it either. Sigh
c) Scoop: Woody Allen + Hugh Jackman = Me laughing and drooling alternately. I love Woody Allen movies. And despite Scarlett Johansen (I can't be bothered to spell it right), I really liked this movie.
d) Rocknrolla: I like Guy Ritchie movies in general. I just do. And even though it's starting to get a bit predictable (still not as predictable as the plot of a Dan Brown book), I still liked the movie. That also may have alot to do with the cast. The cast is um, very hott. Like really really hot. Okay, Gerard Butler, Tom Hardy, Toby Kebbell, Idris Elba, and the very very very hot and delectable Mark Strong. Like oh-my-gawd, Mark Strong. Plus he talks through the movie, so even when he's not there, you can hear him, and hence picture him, which all makes for one very hot movie. Yeah. I have a bit of a crush on Mark Strong.
e) X-men Origins- Wolverine: I like Hugh Jackman, and Ryan Reynolds, and Gambit. So really, I can't give a very objective review of the movie. Too many hot men taking off their shirts, very distracting. But I can admit, the plot and writing was a bit cliche. But like I said, topless men in action sequences, I'm not complaining.
4. My gum is healing. I still have a bit of a hole where my wisdom tooth used to be, but it's not bleeding anymore, and it's closing up. So yay!
5. My parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary on two days back. Like wow huh?! So we did a bit of maths, and we've figured that a) My dad turns 60 the year after I graduate and b) the year after that, my mom turns 50. Not to mention, this is my last teen year. I'm old. All of this is just really creepy.
6. Akon performed in my city last night. ..... ok.. HAHAHAHA who gives a damn, right? :P Just messing with you.

Anyway, I shall be off to feed myself some normal food. Here's to another 111. :)

One tooth stupider.

2009-05-20T11:41:00.002+05:30

Yes, it is done. My wisdom tooth has been extracted. And I was fine because my nice dentist injected alot of anaesthetic. And so my mouth is entirely numb. Then again, I also have a lisp, which makes me feel a little stupid. Or sthupid. Anyway, I was fine. Till about a minute ago when I saw the actual thing. I mean, I saw the tooth and stuff after he pulled it out. But I hadn't seen the insides of my mouth till just now, cos he shoved a piece of cotton in immediately, and told me to bite. Which I had obediently done till two minutes back. Which is when I saw the hole in my gum. IT'S A HOLE! and it's bleeding. Eyuck! I'm totally grossed out. And worse, my anaesthesia is starting to wear off, and my mom hasn't gotten back from the pharmacy with my painkillers, which is starting to worry me. Feeling the hole in my gum has to be atleast ten times worse than just knowing it's there! :( This is all very creepy. I just want to have a painkiller and sleep.
And hopefully wake up without having swallowed my bloody piece of cotton.

Vampire boyfriends...

2009-05-13T22:56:00.004+05:30

So I read Twilight. And watched the movie.
And honestly, if someone had given me this book 5 years back, I would have been completely in love with Edward Cullen. As it is I'm half in love with the idea of a hot vampire boyfriend who can't resist me, and is struggling between being completely in love with me, and drinking all my blood. Edward Cullen is hot, if a bit angsty and almost perpetually "anguished". But I think I could deal with that if I had a vampy lover-boy. :P
But isn't that the most tragic thing about fiction? It brings into relief exactly what is missing in your life. I mean, does Stephenie Meyer realise that there are no vampires in the world. There is no immortal, undead, hottie who is going to take one sniff of me, horizontal wisdom tooth, bad hair, and sweaty palms and all, and go "Hey, that's something I'm never gonna be able to get enough of." Yeah, un-bloody-likely. But in case there is such a guy, and he is reading this. Please,please come find me. Soon. While I'm still worth keeping immortal.

Um, in explanation:
1. The horizontal wisdom tooth? Well... yeah, post a visit to the dentist, I've found out that I have a wisdom tooth that is currently growing horizontally and into my other teeth. Lovely, huh? Yeah, so I can look forward to a one a half hour surgery sometime over the next fortnight to extract the damned thin.
2. The bad hair? That would be cos I've decided to grow my hair out. So, it's kind of in that really bad in between stage right now.
3. The sweaty palms are a standard feature. I'm a nervous girl. Hot vampires are definitely the type to set off the sweaty palm syndrome.

On my own terms

2009-05-10T23:53:00.002+05:30

I've been thinking about it, and I think the entire world is out to unsettle me. I mean, I'm just a girl trying to find a way of life that suits me, and that works for me, especially considering whatever it is that makes my life uncomfortable, for me i.e. And that's all fine. Because I have figured out ways and means to land on my feet somehow. And even when I don't figure things out, they figure themselves out. But somehow, it hasn't mattered that a particular way of life might work well for me. People still find ways to somehow, usually through a warped form of emotional blackmail, change the way I function. And for some reason, I do, change i.e. And I want to protest this.
I like being independent. I want to be completely independent as soon as I can. Financially, emotionally, in every single way, I want and need to be independent. I admit, I have "trust issues" and all of that. I don't mean I'm emotionally detached or anything, but I have enough of my own issues that I'd like to be able to detach myself from someone, should the need arise. I don't have a problem with people needing me, but I refuse to need someone, or owe anybody anything. I love people, my family in particular. But I do not want to be dependent on their support. Weird as it is to say this, starting today, I'm not using a cent of money or a minute of time, that isn't mine. Or well, money as given to me by my parents. And even that I won't use from the day I graduate.
This way, you know that any time I spend on you, is time freely given. And on my own terms. This time when I eventually land on my feet, nothing anybody says or does is going to make me change. I am going to live my life according to standards I set for myself, not in comparison to the rest of the world. And that, is just that.

HSH

2009-05-03T23:50:00.000+05:30

I'm back.
All I've been doing is sleeping. Sigh.
In fact, I'm going to sleep now. Can barely keep my eyes open.
This is just an update to let everyone know I'm home.
Goodnight.

A missing ATM card, refound.

2009-04-26T13:43:00.002+05:30

So I 'lost' my ATM card last night. I ended up turning my entire room upside down, cleaned out my cupboard, re-arranged my shelves, found a ton of other stuff in the process, but still no ATM card. Finally, after about two hours of unsuccessful searching, I decided to look through my wallet again in frustration, and it was lying right there. LIKE OH-EM-EF-GEE! I wanted to shoot myself. I hid my ATM card so well, even I couldn't find it.
Anyway, while hunting, I came across a lot of stuff that I'd forgotten about- some belts that I've been needing, the diary that my friends gave me when I graduated from high school, some old earrings that I'd thought I'd lost, and an old creative writing assignment from last semester (which I am now going to post, for lack of anything better to do with my time).
So basically, the assigment was a newspaper article about some Vietnamese couple who got a divorce and chopped their house in half. And we had a to right a story about it. Voila!

HALF, 1/2, Fifty Percent

"He wants a divorce."

The oh-so-casually dropped statement startled me and I watched in dismay as the tea stain spread across my skirt. Teatime with Vat, my soon-to-be divorceé friend, is always eventful. Seated on a straw mat in the living room of her beautiful, traditional, wooden house, I dabbed at my skirt with the hankerchief she had offered.

"Oh, so he's finally realised that an annulment isn't exactly possible?"

"Yes, it took him a while, but I do believe 'my beloved' has finally understood how annulments and divorces work."

I returned the now soiled hankerchief with a raised eyebrow. "Well do you plan to give him one?"

"Cent? No! He's not getting a cent from me!"

"I meant a divorce!"

"Oh, right. Well, yes. I think I should. I mean, he's only made the offer fifteen times already. I should grab the opportunity before he gives up. I could end up being stuck with him for another eighteen years," she said in mock horror.

She then dropped the act and attempted to maitain a straight face, but nothing could hide the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Very witty." I rolled my eyes at her. "It's a wonder your sense of humour is still intact, having been married to that oaf for eighteen years."

"Mhmm, a downright miracle. " She nodded in agreement.

"But on a more serious note, do you actually plan on divorcing him?" I waited for an answer while she grabbed a biscuit from the plate sitting between us.

"Well... yes... I mean... I don't think I can deal with... the constant arguing... and the stupid accusations... about my supposed affair... with Lian," she replied, in between nibbles. "Besides, we have no children as such to worry about. And I have wasted enough of my life on him!"

I smiled wryly at her, "And as an added benefit, you would give the old village gossips a scandal to keep them excited all the way to their graves."

"That should be my main motive, not an added beneft." She laughed.

She dusted the crumbs off her hands onto the tray where I too placed my tea cup. I then followed her as she walked to the kitchen, tray in hand. Placing everything in the sink, she swiftly turned back, an annoyed expression on her face. "You know what aggravated me?... It's not the idea of a divorce. Frankly, I'm thrilled to end this farce of a relationship. But the terms of the divorce - I don't think my husband has ever come up with a more harebrained plan! And that's saying something where he's concerned."

"Um, what exactly does he want?" I asked as we walked back to the living room.

"Half of everything, including the house."

I frowned. "What's so 'harebrained' about that? He's entitled to it. It's normal divorce procedure to split all the assets-"

"In value, yes. But he wants half of everything, literally!"

"So?" I shrugged, still not really comprehending the situation at hand.

"So?! So he plans to cut everything in half. Physically! Including this house we're standing in right now!" She stomped her foot on the wooden floor as if to dismiss any doubts as to which house was being discussed.

she plopped down onto the straw mat and watched me gape. After about a minute, the only response I could come up with was, "You can't be serious?! I mean... how?!..." I was spluttering, I'll admit it wasn't exactly my finest or most eloquent moment, but how exactly does one react to the idea of chopping a house in half as part of a divorce settlement?! It really was a most 'harebrained' plan.

"But... he can't transport half the house!"

"Oh, he doesn't plan to," she said bitterly. "He just doesn't want me t have it. So he's going to chop it down and leave me half a house... split down the centre and lying gaping open... I really should have slept with Lian, considering what it's costing me-"

"He can't do that. He probably just said it in the heat of the moment. He couldn't have been thinkin-"

"He never thinks. This is just another example of his general incapacity to think. And he is going through with it. He's got the papers ready and everything!"

"Did you sign?"

There was a brief silence.

"It was either that or remain married to him till someone had him committed to an asylum."

"Did you sign?" I pressed on, hoping against hope that she hadn't.

Her shoulders drooped and for the first time she actually looked broken, in spirit and in person, as her house would soon be.

"Yes."

So yeah, that was the story. I wrote it in 3 hours. I know there are tons of places where it could do with work. And that I used way to many clichés in it. And if there are any typos right now, it's cos I really need to go study, so didn't bother re-reading it. But yeah, my prof seemed to like it enough. She marked this one as an 18/20. :D

Procrastinationmax.

2009-04-23T20:54:00.002+05:30

Thursday night and I really should be studying for my end semester exam tomorrow. Instead I'm sitting here watching stupid videos of stupid hip hop songs and praising the heavens above that while I do go home to Dubai, I don't live there, and hence don't talk about my 'laydeez' and us 'bumpin'' to songs. :|
Could you imagine me all bling, and 'shakin' that thang'.

Bwahhaahahahahahahahahaaha!

Sigh, there's a reason I graduated high-school. And while I've done my fair share of stupid things since, I prefer being what I am now. Minus the bling, plus a few vices; minus the laydeez, plus a few down-to-earth, good ol' friends; minus the short skirts, fast cars, and clubs, plus the harem pants, bus rides, and the beach; minus them, plus all of you.
However, none of this means I'm any less thrilled about going home. I can't wait!!! :D

:|

2009-04-11T21:25:00.002+05:30

Km asked me to update my blog, so dutiful as I am, I am complying. But the thing is, honestly, I have nothing interesting to say. I'm feeling homesick. I want to see my scratface, and feel loved again. I want to go shopping and not buy anything. I want to eat cream-filled doughnuts. I want to have stupid sleepovers and talk and sing songs all night, and then make fluffy omelettes just oozing with cheese. I adore everyone here, but I really need to go home now. I need to get myself together, I've been feeling a bit well.. all over the place. I think I need to visit my highschool self and see if I'm okay with having to grow up.
Besides, I think I've been away from home too long. My mother has started 'brb'-ing me. :O

Life and everything else redundant..

2009-03-26T15:44:00.001+05:30

Post a very brief discussion last night, I got to thinking about the point behind life. U claimed that studying marketing and business was pointless in the larger scheme of things because it involved just selling something for the sheer sake of it. And hence a life spent doing that, was in some way also pointless. C furthered this saying that there should be more to life than just earning money.
And all I can say is, “Is it so wrong to be materialistic?” And when I speak of being materialistic, I don’t mean being wanting more and more of the material things in life, but simply finding satisfaction in the material things in life. Is it not possible that my soul can be content, if the rest of my physical being is content? Because, I am materialistic by nature. Given the chance, if marketing some unnecessary product, a job that brings no personal satisfaction to me, would help pay for a chocolate cake, or a trip to Prague, which would indeed give me immense satisfaction, then I would do it, at the drop of a hat. If my job becomes a means to an end, I would not mind. I want to see the world, and try new things, and if that means that I have to sell my life temporarily into bonded labour, then I think I’d be willing to do it. In an idealistic world, it would probably be tragic to take an education and make it a means to funding what can be seen by some as possibly a more frivolous past-time, but if it gives me satisfaction, and deprives no one else of anything, isn’t is perfectly alright to do it?
Personally, and I mean this completely as my opinion and nothing else, I believe that satisfaction of the soul need not be the ultimate satisfaction. In fact, as a non-believer of institutional religions, I’d go as far as saying that telling people that satisfying their inner selves is the ultimate, is in a way giving them a way to make them be satisfied with whatever little they have. Not that people ought not to be satisfied with little, or that they should always want more. But if what you really, truly want, is more than what you need, there is nothing wrong with it. I want to travel the world. I don’t need to, but I want to. I don’t even want to travel first class, and stay in fancy hotels (though I wouldn’t mind doing that occasionally either), but I want to travel the world. I would be perfectly willing to go backpacking, live in hostels, eat crappy sandwiches for an entire year, if it meant I could go to Italy, or Spain, or Latin America, or East Europe, or wherever. That’s not precisely affordable either. So, I would be willing to slave at a job I do not enjoy, for an entire decade, if it meant that I could do this. And this job of mine, need not contribute to the general well being of the world. And my travelling the world, will not contribute to the general well being of the world. But if that is what I want, then it does not make the work I do pointless. And it does not make my life/existence pointless. If I do not spend my life working to better myself, or the world around me, and I do not find inner peace, if I occasionally like to buy a pretty, but expensive dress, because it looks pretty on me and not because anyone, anywhere derives any soul satisfaction out of it, then I’d like to do it, pointless as the whole act may seem. If I have lived, worked, enjoyed life, and died, having made absolutely no contribution to the world at large, I would still not consider life pointless.
You could call my outlook on life a bit shallow. It probably is. But you cannot say that shallow is bad. If everyone in the world was deep, all the problems of life would be solved, and no one would have anything left to be non-shallow about. If there were no materialistic consumers like myself, there would have been no need to innovate or invent anything new. Go ahead, philosophise about life, I’ll just be here in the corner living it.

What almost was the "Trippy Hippies"...

2009-03-20T11:19:00.003+05:30

So, weeks of late night practices, blisters, impossible solos, notes that were hit, notes that were almost hit, notes that weren't hit, harmonies where there were none, broken picks, lost pick ups, trips to the music store to replace equipment, etc finally culminated in last night. Which was easily one of the most awesome nights ever! :D
We had a purely cover set:
1. Across the Universe- The Beatles: A super short 45 second version as our sound check. It wasn't perfect.
2. Suddenly I See- K T Tunstall: Apparently our guitars were out of tune. I dunno how?!?! *wails* We had tuned everything just before going on stage. We just have bad luck with the damn instruments. So annoying!! But the harmonies came out well, so hopefully it didn't sound too bad.
3. Superman- Five for Fighting: Apparently this came out really well. Carapace sang it, and though she missed one note, it wasn't heard (:D) and the song apparently sounded really good in the end. :D yay carapace.
4. I Will Survive- Combined versions by Gloria Gaynor and Cake: I played bass for this one. Sigh, my fingers still feel really weird from all the practice that went into perfecting this bass line. But it was totally worth it. It came out awesomely. And Carapace again kicked ass with the vocals. As did A with the guitar solo, sli cups aside, it was still awesome.
5. Twist & Shout/ La Bamba- The Beatles/As performed by Ritchie Valens: Ok.. so I recall messing up in fair parts of this song. But I was told that it was a fun song all the same, so people were dancing and stuff. Just like V on stage! :P She was clearly having fun with the song.

So yeah, what did all of this get us?

THIRD PLACE!! :D We placed yo! It was so brilliant!! When the results were announced, we were all stunned. This was immediately followed by plenty of really loud shrieking. They said we had really good vocalists, and I got a special mention for playing the bass. Which is a bit of crap considering I played just the one song. But whatever, the fact that we came third is just totally awesome.

We planned to party afterwards to celebrate, but that plan has been postponed to today. We did end up hanging out with Bondu, and losing a fair amount of braincells in the process. But it was fun. And we had cake. Lots and lots of cake. Yum.

So yeah, altogether: Awesome night!!! :D :D

Stumped

2009-03-12T21:22:00.002+05:30

So how exactly does one completely confound a relatively confident, 19 year-old female?
Well, you put her in a car, by herself, and leave instructions that are to be communicated to the driver... in her mother tongue, in which she has less than functional skills. Sigh, that was me on tuesday.I basically was to explain to him that his services would probably not be required, but should that not be the case then my aunt would call him and let him know.
::mumble mumble::
"??"
::mumble mumble:: tomorrow ::mumble:: morning ::mumble mumble::
"Tomorrow morning?"
::what I believed was "If she wants the car, she will call you tomorrow"::
"??"
::it was actually more along the lines of "If she wantedly the car, she phone"::
"?????"
::um::
"Ok, ma'am."

I'm not sure if he understood or if I even correctly interpreted whatever I said. I did spend the next half hour in the car going over the lines over and over in my head, trying to figure what the right words are. I finally wussed out and didn't say anything further. I think he got my message though, I haven't heard from my aunt.

In other news, I'm not a fan of mud wrestling. I don't like watching it, and I sure as hell don't play. And I have little respect for people who do. It's pretty tragic, huh? My apathy is finally coming of use.