Damn! I Can't Think of a Title!

The City of Brands, Buses and Blocked Noses

2011-12-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

The other day, I was walking down a crowded street and I saw this beggar woman. Or alteast I think it was a beggar woman. Her clothes looked murky and old but then that could've been just some sorta fashion statement. She had a wrap around her that looked really tattered and worn out from the hundreds of nights she had to spend wrapped around in it during the chilling weather of this city. Or maybe its the hundreds of bucks she spend at a brand outlet to get a tattered looking wrap. I forgot to look if she was wearing shoes. That would've given me some sorta benefit to my doubt. She was just standing there leaning on a railing looking like she belonged there. I couldn't see her face so I couldn't tell if she had make-up on but her hairstyle was the one they give you in mental institutions (well atleast in movies). The horrible buzz cut that makes you hair stick up like porcupine spikes. Again, this could've been a fashion statement thing. She was eating something like it was the only meal she's had in days or the only meal she's had since she got out of office. I couldn't stand at stare at this woman too long to figure her out because I was in the middle of Brigade Road in Bangalore. The crowd just sorta takes you along with you. Or maybe I just haven't learned how to work against the crowd.

I don't live in Bangalore. I just come here on random days. And it never ceases to intrigue me. A few years ago, before I had ever set foot on Bangalore, it was this mystical place that I had only read about. I'd heard about its shops and the people and the awesome coolness of it all. And I was just dying to get there. When finally I did land up here on a one-month stint, well, it wasn't quite what I expected. I'm not saying it was bad. Maybe I built it up too much in my head. Anyway, here are a few findings of mine about this city. Do not take it personally. Its just my opinion.

Bangalore weather hates my nose. The moment I cross over from Hosur to Bangalore, my nose gets a mind of its own and has its own little sneeze fest. Then apart from frequent sneeze attacks, it remains blocked during the rest of my stay. I miss breathing when I'm in Bangalore.

Everyone is sooooo busy. Sure, they're all working and I'm just playing tourist but c'mon!Everyone acts like they work in the ER. Its all frantic and stress and panic attack. Geez, its not the end of the world! I have never worked in Bangalore or in a big important MNC sorta office, so I wouldn't know what the fuss is all about. Do your bosses cut your fingers off if you miss a deadline? I don't know why people put up with this sorta stressful likfe? (for the big fat paycheck, you dope! Oh...right...I've never had one of those either.. ahem.. so I wouldn't know. :-( )

Everyone is so clean! I don't if its just because of the way they all dress so well. But they look like they wash themselves every couple of hours. There is no greasiness or frizziness. And poor or rich, everyone looks like they stepped out of some sorta ad. (I'm just talking about the proper city city part not the outskirts.)

No matter how many times I've been here, I turn into a country bumpkin. I can't help gawking at girls in short dresses or people with tattoos or stifle a giggle when I see a person shopping in what looks like their underwear. I squeal when those laser activated water facet things work. I save up tissues from every restaurant to use later. I spend a few minutes staring in awe at gleaming toilets. I swoon over 100 bucks slippers and carry back as many as I can. I steal glances around at everyone else in the room and then proceed to try and appear all relaxed and laidback like them except my insides are in knots.

Everyone has a Bangalore accent. I didn't know there was one. But there is. Its just not widely popular like the other accents.

The traffic. I generally like traffic jams because it gives me time to study the surroundings and the people around me. But in Bangalore, when I end up staring at the delivery van guy for some 30 minutes and I begin bordering at creepy.

The climate again. I could never work in a place with a climate like this. Not just because of my allergies. But this is the kinda climate that makes me want to snuggle under a quilt and hibernate till its summer again.

I hate how everything is so far away. Back in college, I could find everything I needed at each places that the bus stops. Thats like 5 minutes. Here travelling the distance between two friends I want to visit could cost me an entire day in the bus or an entire fortune in an auto.

I love the buses. They are the most ultra coolest things they have here. They don't make them like that back where I live. There its a box with four wheels. And the box leaks more often that not, when it rains. In Bangalore, its like a whole new technology. With the automatic doors and everything. Whoosh. Open. Its like magic...Umm.. okay, that was the country bumkiness I was talking about.

Everyone seems rich here. I want to meet a poor person here. I'll have a lotta people coming up now saying that they're poor cos they spend all their salary before the end of the month and because they live in a studio apartment and eat out only every fortnight. I sympathize with you, I do. I'm just talking about dirt-poor. Who lives pretty much like most of the people back in my hometown.

This city changes people. It turns the relaxed into uptight and harried and turns the stick-up-their-ass types into chill-maadi types. I had many a slow-moving, song-humming, non-branded clothes friends once. But Bangalore has transformed them. A few for the better too. And I've had friends who were ready to burn people who drink and smoke at stakes. Now its all "Meh" to them. Its a crazy world, this city. I've read a lotta books about people based in this city. I know if I stay here long enough, I 'd get swirled into the big cup of surprises this city brings. I'd get street-smart and sassy. I wouldn't go home and cry about the amount of money I was "tricked" into paying. I'd look clean all the time too!

But for now, its back to slo-mo living at my good ol' home town in my non-cool clothes and de-congested lungs. I'm not saying my hometown is the best thing ever. It's got its billion flaws too.. But its just like.. you're a piece of cloth that has been floating about in a bucket of water all life long and suddenly someone takes you and puts you in a big techy washing machine and you're tossing and turning and beating against the sides. I'm still in my bucket of water. In fact I'm like the frog in the bucket of water. Whoa wait thats a whole other metaphor. I'm getting my metaphors mixed up. Maybe I should stop for now. Until next time, you guys chill maadi! :-P

I Like, I Don't

2011-07-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

Its time for another pointless post bout things that I like and don’t like. In points. Because I'm to lazy to type out a whole post. :-) Yenjay!

I like it when a sunny day turns cloudy and you actually see it happen. As in you notice the dark shadow cast over all the sunniness, inch by inch. It makes me feel like I sneaked a peek of one of those things Nature does before we notice. Like plants growing or sweat popping outta skin. :-)

I don't like being talked to during a movie. Please refrain from talking to me just for those 3 hours.

I like to listen to that sudden short intake of breath that singers do in between lines of a song. It makes them seem human just like the rest of us.

I don't like it when a pill does not go down your throat but sorta swirls around in your mouth and you end up with the horrible taste of a melted tablet in your mouth.

I like the smell of new things. Like a new book or a new school bag or shoes or a new eraser. Oooh and new clothes. I would purchase the thing that they use to induce that smell. Oh and also the musty smell that’s there as soon as you turn on an air conditioner. Heavenly.

I don't like it when I find ants in my eyebrows.

I like it when I get to do the "What to expect when your expecting Puberty" talk to pre-pubescent girls. I’ve done this only once and I think I scared the wits out of that kid but it was still nice to be older and world-wise

I like laughing out loud at a corny joke on tv or bawling at a sad scene when there is noone around to judge you.

I like masala movies where the hero walks in slow motion and kills all the bad guys with a flick of a finger. I get goosebumps during these scenes no matter how bad the movie is.

I like the first 15 minutes spend with a toddler right after he wakes up from a nap. They’re all dazed and lazy and oh-so-not-hyper. Its a nice relax-y time. And I love their bleary eyes.

I don't like it when people call you up and talk and talk and talk without breathing, without even giving me a tiny little 2 second break so that I can say “right, ok, so I gotta go now.” If you've ever wondered how the line had magically gone dead when you were explaining to me how exactly your great aunts ended their real estate disputes, well, I don’t know either. :-|

I like it when married couples who probably haven’t held hands since 1985, huddle close together under an umbrella when it rains. With an arm around waist or shoulder, heads together, it somehow reminds you that that they had been young and very much in love once upon a time.

I don't like it when people send you something on chat and then go “oops, wrong box”. I used to do that a lot when I wanted to inform someone of something without actually having to say it to him/her. Or I’d just be trying to make it seem like “I’m talking to a whole lotta other people and I wasn’t sitting here staring at your name on my chat list willing you to send me a message for the past one hour.” Hate that.

I like daisies. I like Meg Ryan because in You’ve Got Mail she says that she likes daisies. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

Kathleen Kelly: I love daisies.
Joe Fox: You told me.
Kathleen Kelly: They're so friendly. Don't you think daisies are the friendliest flower?

Trivia – Meg Ryan’s daughter’s name is Daisy.

I like the way Meg Ryan walks.

I like it when babies touch your face.

I don't like it when they later try to yank open your eye sockets and pull out your eyeballs.

I like all movies that I’ve watched from beginning to end. No matter how bad it is. There is always some portion of it that I can relate to even in the bizzarest way. Or I just feel that I’ve learned something that I would’ve never known until I watched that movie. Be it a funny dialogue, or a thought or a costume or an exotic name or an idea or a psychological disorder or just basic trivia.

I don't like it when you make someone read a book or watch a movie that you absolutely love, but they don’t pay attention to it like their lives depend on it. I mean they’re texting in between the most crucial scenes or skipping the most important chapters. Sure, they probably don’t like it either when I’m yanking their head up so that they're facing the screen or breathing down their neck asking them what line they’re reading now. But still, no respect for the arts.

I like aprons.

I don't like it when you just have to “give in” when you’re winning an argument because the other person is just a “child”. It’s just not bloody fair.

I like old keys. I love the feel of them.

I don't like smiling when wearing white because it makes your teeth look so-very-not-white.

I like how everyone is financially equal in Facebook. No matter what pictures you’re posting – of your 3 different cars or scenes from the bus you ride to work everyday.. or from where you send your comments – your shiny new Blackberry or a shady old internet café down the street, you’re all on Facebook. Its literally like you all hang out at the same place. Without having to constantly check how much is left in your wallet. Which is cool.

I don't like it when someone near me coughs or sneezes. I hold my breath for as long as I can or until I feel that the viruses and bacteria has stopped floating around in the air and has settled. Or I flap the air around me towards them as subtly as I can.

I like the way people’s eyes sparkle in movie theaters.

I like it when someone touches my hair. Or my ears.

I like blood red nail polish.

I like old scars and telling the story about how it got there. I always figured that "If a scar does not last too long on your body then it probably doesn’t have a story that is worth talking about." My very own quote.

I like making up my very own quotes.

A Furry Tail

2011-07-04T10:22:00.001-07:00

It had been a terribly long day. At around 10pm, I got back home after helping my cousin with some work. I was tired and was looking forward to going to bed. At the gate, my dog awaited eagerly. I groaned. I mean, I love the lil fellow, but sometimes you just wanna be able to walk into your house upright and not have a 30 kilo over-excited puppy lunge at you. After a lotta puppy pushes, I managed to get into the house (not without a few scratches). Inside the house, I see a big fat cat strutting around like he owned the place. He was jumping from pole to pole over our heads and at each jump I cringed a little. I mean, there is something very icky bout cats. I can't quite figure out what it is. But just looking at a cat makes my mind throw up a little. So while this furry feline tried all sorts of acrobats, I hurried myself outta the room because the last thing I wanted was it to fall on my head. Later as I watched TV, my eyes kept drifting to the hole that the cat disappeared into. After a bit, I went to the kitchen to heat up some leftover pizza only to see it covered completely by ants. What nerve?! I mean ants would've eaten rotten wood with the same enthusiasm but they had to go and attack my precious pizza!? UGH!

After a bit more TV, I decided to head to bed. I went to my room and caught a glimpse of a shadow crawl under my bed. I frantically jumped on my bed and stood on tip toes. Upon turning on the light, I saw yet another cat casually stroll out from under my bed. I opened a window so that the cat could find its way out, only to get shocked outta my skin when my dog stuck his head in through the window and barked at a bazillion decibels. Right then, I had just had it with animals! I was sick and tired of cats and dogs and chickens and ants and everything!

I went back to my room still grumbling. The whole room had a musty cat smell. I almost gagged. After spritzing my perfume about a bit, I sat staring at the window through which Cat No.2 had entered my room. I was too scared to reach out and close it because I was sure that a whole bunch of cats were there just waiting to feast on my arms. I managed to doze off after a bit and have a flurry of weird dreams about cats walking all over my bed and turning into vampires and biting my neck. Imagine my shock when out of nowhere, I hear a tiny Meowww! My eyes shot open and I looked around hurriedly. I checked under the bed. Nothing there either. It wasn't coming from outside either. Then finally, under a chair lay a cloth that had fallen there a few days ago that I kept meaning to put back in the cupboard. Inside it lay a tiny little fur ball. It couldn't have been hardly a day old. For a minute I wasn't sure if it was a cat or a mouse. It was literally that tiny. Then, I freaked. I felt like a mom who wasn't ready to become a mom but suddenly had a lil baby fall outta her all of a sudden. It was around 3 in the morning. I had no access to the internet right then or else I would've Googled the shit outta kitty-caring techniques. So instead, I called up a friend who I figured would be awake enough to shell out some advice. After 10 minutes of the world's most useless and pointless conversation, I was on all four staring at her. I had never seen a new born cat before. I got a little wistful because I swear she looked exactly like my niece did when she was born. The same long eyes and pink nose. Check out the pictures and you tell me if you don't see a similarity.

I wanted to touch her but just couldn't make myself do it. I put one finger on top of her head though. She stirred and I had a mini-heart attack. She started shivering a little. So I folded up a kurtha and laid it gently on top of her. I don't know why I figured its a she. Maybe because when she started crying, she wasn't meowing, she was literally crying. Like human babies do. A little whiny cry. I pulled at the cloth she was lying on to make sure there was just one. I always thought cats gave birth to like a dozen at once. I pushed the cloth down under my bed so that it would be warmer there. Then I grabbed my camera and took a coupla quick pictures. I wrote a note to my dad so that my dad doesn't accidently step on her or something the next morning. Wrote 'There's a kitten under my bed. What to do with it? Please don't kill it.'

Turned off the light and went to bed with names for the kitten whirling around in my head. Few minutes later, I hear someone clawing at my window. I shoot outta bed, grabbed a pillow, head for my parents' bedroom and slept there. Next morning, I woke up to see her dragging herself around under the bed, crying for dear life. She couldn't even walk. And she kept falling over too. I had a quite a lotta aww moments in that 10 minutes. She did that eerie human cry again. I found the tiniest bowl I could and poured in some milk. I pushed the bowl under her nose. She toppled over and fell face-first into the bowl of milk. Oh crap, I've drowned it. But she lifted her head again, looked a bit confused, licked her mouth and then pretended to gag. And dragged herself away from the bowl. Well, excuse me for not being a gourmet milk chef. She kept crying so I stuck some old cloth into a box and sorta rolled the lil fur-ball into the box with a book.(I still wasn't too keen on touching it) She jumped outta there once.Swooping her up again, I placed her back into the box and while holding the box at an arm distance, carried it to the staircases. I placed it at the foot of the stairs. I look at up to see the mom-cat looking down at us. I point to the baby and quietly leave. I hide behind a door and peep to see the big reunion. I was hoping it'd b complete Karan Joharish style. I wait and wait and the stupid mom cat still wouldn't budge. I badly had to pee as well. (I still hadn't brushed my teeth or anything. Straight outta the bed and into this melodrama). Finally I got tired of waiting and moved the box a few steps up, hoping that the little fella won't attempt to plunge into an early death now. By the time, I was back after 15 minutes, both mom and daughter was gone. They're probably in my room upstairs cos when I went there later that day, it smelt of that same old musty cat smell.

This is by far the most exciting thing that happen to me this year. Don't judge me, ok. Exciting-er things have happen to me. I'm keeping a low profile this year. Anyway, this incident made me feel like I'm living out an Enid Blyton story. Sure, it wasn't a goblin or pixie or talking doll or anything that I found under the bed. But there I was, grumbling about all the animals in the world and *Pling* this adorable little creature happens. There isn't an exciting or surprising ending to this story. Just that the lil kitten got to have a super awesome human-mom for a day. Who tried to drown her in milk. Umm...shhh! ;-)

Nothing Happen Today. Good Night.

2011-06-20T15:53:00.000-07:00

I was going through a bunch on my old stuff some time back. I've got these cardboard boxes full of "junk" as my mom and dad likes to call it. But I like to call it my "Treasure Chest Of Memorabilia" (ok, no, I don't. I just call it my stuff. This sounded fancier. And I wasn't even sure what memorabilia meant.. or how its spelt .Google to the rescue as always.)

Anyway so this treasure chest which might just look like an ordinary suitcase from the outside, is filled with years of valuable and one-in-a-million memories. Bits of scrap paper passed around in class, movie tickets, wrapping paper with tag on, letters and cards, flowers that has been dried between pages of books, locks of hair (no, im not a psycho), stones from a memorable place and other things that mite cause you to rethink my sanity level. Among all these, I found a couple of diaries. Now who hasn't written a diary once atleast once in a lifetime. They're so wonderful and personal, especially when you start writing so young. To me as a kid, it a whole new playground. I didn't have to use my best handwriting. I didn't have to stay between the lines. I could use pens with ink that are not blue or black. I could doodle right in the middle of the book if I wanted. And I could stop writing whenever I wanted. My first diary was introduced to me by an aunt, who wanted to encourage us kids to write. It was this lil black leather book with a flap so that you can button it shut. I wrote unfailingly for weeks. Some of my entries, as I read it now.. are hilarious :

September 7^th Wednesday 1994

Today in the I had a very BIG headace. At home alsaso my dad brought the termomiter. I was having 100.

Um.. ok so not hilarious,maybe. Just plain dumb. For a 9 year old anyway. I'm guessing the headache affected my sentence formation.. And my spellings.. thank god you can't see my handwriting. :-/

January 23 Sunday 1994

Today in school I did not have 4 peread. I am so happy today because I don't have tuion.

July 12 Tuesday 1994

Today I went to ice scat. I could not scat. But I enjoyed it. I am sleepy. Good night. Bye.

I said good night, bye, sometimes Good evening and occasionally, love ya, to my diary. I know… :-/

After a while the posts got shorter and shorter :

June 18 Saturday 1994

Dear Diary, Nothing happen today. Good night.

June 19 Sunday 1994

Dear Diary, Nothing happen today also. Good night.

About a month of this and then I got even lazier and started to resort to using ,, ,, in every day's column. As in "same-as-above". Apparently nothing happen to me for the rest of the year.

But then again when a new year dawns, I'd again start off on the crisp pages (which smells yummy by the way) of a fresh new diary.

Once in my teens, I realized diaries are kinda kiddish and that I should move on to the grown-up version of diaries - the journal.

I'm not sure what the difference is, but I was a major Babysitter's Club fan then, and the kids in that book always wrote in journals, which simultaneously (crap, I cannot spell simultaneously.. without spell check that is.) was considered to be a cool thing to do.

See the journal on the floor? See it? So cool!

I figure the only difference is that diaries are meant to be written at night before bed and journals you can whip em up whenever you want and bitch bout life in it. Which was pretty much all I did in my journal. Complain bout my parents. Complain bout how I look. Complain about my best friends. Complain bout how much I had to study and how utterly useless algebra is. With an occasional random post about a new crush or two. :-)

May 16^th 1999 (excerpts)

….. except for one who is drop-dead gorgeous. Well, he's not that cute but then he is really cute. But I think he's some sort of fuddy-duddy (I'm not making this up. I did use the words "fuddy-duddy". I mean how cool was I!)

……….When a girl next to me said the words "fall in love" to someone she was talking to, I looked up at the same time he was looking at me. I know its silly and doesn't mean anything my heart was pounding so bad that time. I think I'm a silly jerk. He doesn't have a nice accent and he hardly ever laughs. Geek. But he looks nice when he smiles……

…..I really really wanna talk to him but I don't have the guts. What am I gonna say anyway? I heard he's a boring conversationalist…….

Ahhhh to be 13 again!

Note : To know how that story ended.. clickety click here!

I stuck to that journal throughout my teenage years. It wasn't much to look at. It was a notebook with a picture of a bunch of animals on the cover. And it says P.M.S deluxe. Lol! I just noticed that now. I bought it from the store in front of my house for 7 bucks. Eventually I punched a hole through all the pages so that I could slip a lock through it. For ensured privacy. Expect I lost the key one day and had to rip it open anyway. The last post I've written in it is where I'm stressing bout passing 12^th grade and college and life in India.

Do I seem 18 now? ( I asked the 192 paged book) I think the way I write is different (not my handwriting). Or maybe I'm just trying too hard…

What's that even supposed to mean?

Once in college, I didn't do much journal or diary writing because college hostels are one place where girls just get a kick outta reading other people's diaries. In fact, when I was a kid, I used to jump at every chance to read my sister's diary. Except it didn't have anything earth-shattering in it. On the first page of her diary, she'd write – Do Not Open and do this drawing of the danger sign which actually just looked like a peanut on top of an X. On page two, she'd personally address me and say something like "You know its bad manners to read other people's diaries so PUT IT DOWN", which is sooo the wrongest thing to say to a jobless kid with a level of curiosity that could've killed a whole street of cats. But seriously, her diaries were boring. So in college, when eventually I did start writing, it was more or less for an audience. I'd write it so that others would like it if they read it. It would be humorous and charming with tit-bits of interesting trivia once in a while.

So today I hit a mosquito with my bare hands and then I swear I heard a crackling sound. I felt bad about it for a bit, but alas! (yes, alas) the deed had been done. I had crushed the poor thing's endoskeleton..Which as I know is just like human skeletons but on the outside. Yaawn, Off to bed, then. Tomorrow is gonna be another jam-packed day! (uh, yeah right!)

Sometimes I'd force my roommate to write about me in their diary then read it out loud to me. I think she tore out those pages about me after I went to sleep. :-/

Once I discovered blogging, I haven't really felt the need to write a diary. Most of my innermost thoughts and feelings, I usually blog about it. Or its my Facebook status. Ten years ago, I'd have tore someone's eyes out if they so much as hovered near my diary and read about my days where Nothing Happen today again. Now I'm just putting it all up on the web.. for public display.. of billions and thousands of people (ok, so not that many, I don't get that many hits on my blog :-( )

I started a diary last year though. But I stick to one-liners now.

Day 1 - I got my driver's license today! Yay!

Day 2 - I almost run over someone today. Bummer!

Day 3 - I got my first pay-check. Yay!

Day 4 - I got fired today. Bummer!

After a while, I think I'll probably just shorten it to emoticons.

Day 1

:-)

Day 2

:-(

Day 3

:-/

Day 4

?;0-(0''!~

Don't ask.

Guess Where I Found Zen?

2011-03-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

"Everyone needs to find their Zen. What do I mean by that? Zen means peace, meditation, calmness. We are conditioned to stressing and forboding and worrying, it's human nature. It's difficult for us as humans, to focus on the moment and find peace or even want it, but we do however, need peace in our lives."

Everyone has their own ways to zen.

Ross to Phoebe :

No, no don't!
Stop cleansing my aura!
No, just leave my aura alone, okay

Of cleansing their auras. I love how Phoebe from F*R*I*E*N*D*S does it by.. well.. literally plucking out the yuckies from your aura. But for the saner lot, it's mostly yoga or music or a walk or whatever. I’ve always wondered what my aura-cleansing technique is. Well not just an aura cleanser.. but also a stress-busting, depression-dissolving, life-mending technique.

I used to sing to ease my worries. No, not just randomly sing.. I would take the pains to listen to a song and write down the lyrics.. even though I could just get it off the Internet. I like to write it down myself cos a) this usually happens in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep and I’m too lazy to turn on the computer again and b) when you write down the lyrics, you can write them down exactly how you hear it if you don’t understand what the actual words are. I don't know how thats better. But it is.

Like the song Survivor by Destiny’s Child. I swear, it goes “I’m a survivor, I’m not go-giver, I’m a bus driver, Imma work harder!”, which sounds all wrong and probably is wrong but it cracks me up so I never really tried to find out the real lyrics.

Anyway, singing usually used to work for me until my nose kept getting blocked all the time and I literally lose my breath after half the song and also its no fun when you have to sing it like “Ibha surbhiber, Ibha bhus drivher”.. It doesn’t really make you feel like a survivor.. or a bus driver for that matter.

So after that, I couldn’t figure out what to do to get rid of all those bad/sad feelings.Until I tried gardening.

It was awesome. Everytime you bring that shovel down on the hard ground, you feel like your cracking through the brains of all your murky problems in life. And when I come across a worm- forgive me all animal right-ist and worm lovers – but I squish it. And I feel better. So there I was, digging and squishing, digging and digging more than I needed to dig. With more aggression that I’ve ever felt in my life. Once I was done, I was proud of myself and resolved that this was going to be my solution to dark days forever. I'd found my zen in the mud and dirt. Everything was great until the next morning when I woke up and found that my arms had temporarily stopped function. Well okay, that’s an over-exaggeration. They did function. Except every time they tried to function, it felt like everyone of those tiny worms I squished the day before had cloned themselves to infinity and had magically made their way inside my body to bite into each inch of the little muscle that I had somewhere between all those bones. Apparently worms have got someone looking out for them too.

I had to figure out another way to unwind before I drove myself insane. I thought of yoga which seemed like the obvious way to go. But I didn’t wanna cause further damage than I had already caused. Everytime I tried yoga in the past, I’d require atleast two days of bed rest atleast until I figure out that I’m bending or twisting in the wrong direction.

That is when I came across this awesome cooking blog. I’m not gonna give you the link b'cos I found it and its mine. And you can’t have it...... It’s mine.

I’m very possessive about my blog finds. I “found” the 1000awesomethings blog and a month later, there was an article about it in the Reader’s Digest. Sure, the blog had atleast a bazillion visitors already… but I found it. :-/

So anyway, the cooking blog.. the secret cooking blog was amazing. I started to make something everyday. And wonder of wonders, everything was.. well.. sorta edible. Well ok, it wasn’t repulsive either! I mean, I was actually good at it and got better everyday. Every afternoon, I’d browse the blog and figure out what I want to make, jot down the recipe and get crackin’. It was awesome, apart from an occasional hard-as-coconut-shells biscuits, everything else was scrummilicious. I was in bliss. It went on great until one day I had my heart set on making Banana bread. I don’t even like bananas, but it just seemed like a cool thing to make! And it was simple as hell too! I went to the store and got extra butter and eggs and everything and was all excited to make it. So in the afternoon, I go to the kitchen to make my much-awaited Banana bread. I lay out all my ingredients until I notice one tiny little thing was missing. We were out of bananas.

I swear, it was like my world was falling apart! I just had to had to make it that day itself! I mean, how can we not have bananas!? We always have bananas! My house literally grew on banana trees! I have never been that terribly upset. I was literally in tears. It was like I just missed out on winning the Nobel Prize. After spending hours, mourning on my bed, I considered trying to make something else. But figured, what’s the point? When you’re looking for lemonade, life just hands you one rotten lemon after another(we were out of lemons too :-( )

I listened to sad songs, sat around in the dark and cried my eyes out. After a while, I wasn’t sure if it was about the bananas (or the lemon) anymore. With the little light coming in through the window and tears flowing down my cheeks, somehow it crossed my mind that this would make a great photograph. All artsy and stuff. Still sniffing and sobbing, but without hesitation, I picked up my phone and clicked a picture of myself... only to find that I looked positively ghastly. It made me cry even more and curse stupid actors in movies who look positively angelic while they cry. Bloody nonsense. Oh, why.. why is everything in my life going so wrong! Where the hell is my goddamn zen! Self pity, self pity and more self-pity. Ugh.

Anyhow, crying always makes me want to pee. I don’t know what the connection is. You’re losing liquid…and somehow that makes you want to lose more liquid. Anyway, I stepped into the bathroom. The bathroom was really dirty from all the mud from the garden and just murk in general. I gestured to the empty room and said to myself “This…this is my life….A big disgusting mess...” Silence.

Without a moment’s thought, I grabbed a sponge and some floor cleaner. Down on all fours, I started scrubbing. After I was done, I looked down and still wasn’t satisfied. So I grabbed hold of every single bathroom-cleaning equipment lying around including an old toothbrush of mine and did it again. This time I gave it my all, which means between the tiles and near the clogged drain. By the time I was on the last tile, I was surprised when I realised that I was actually grinning. I’ve cleaned up the “big disgusting mess”. Ok fine so maybe my life hadn't magically cleaned itself up too. But I realized that if I could clean up this great big mess, well, then no mess is too big for me!

No mess is too big for me. That's my current aura-cleaning methodology now. I'm on my way to Zen. And to think.. of all the places, I looked.. I found mine in the bathroom. :-)

All for a Speck of Happiness

2010-12-07T00:50:00.000-08:00

I need a new best friend.

Uh, no...not a human one. Not an invisible one either, got enough of those. I meant the ultimate man's best friend..A Dog!

It's so dumb that the woman's best friend are supposed to be diamonds.. I mean Diamonds are rocks..an inanimate thing...and men get dogs.. How sad does that make women look? Hi, my best friend is a rock. That is just dumb. And so not true. Women's true best friend would be something like....um...chocolate ice creams and discount sales.. ok ok so they're inanimate things too but they're a lot more closer to dog than diamonds are.

Anyhow, I've been watching all these movies with dogs and cats and monkeys and stuff and how people seem so content with life with the whole slow-mo running in the wind and happy kind background music n all.. I want that.. I need a new happy quotient in my life. I figured it'd be fun. It'll be like looking after a little baby and I'm super good with babies. The only difference is not I'm not even a wee bit afraid of babies...like I am of dogs. I'm not thaat scared of dogs.. I mean I could look at them hours.. in pictures or on TV or from a distance. It's just the way they're always moving about.. as in there is no certainty as to what they'll do next. I can't live with the suspense that comes with dogs. And also, the barking. My neighbour's dog is just adorable well.. from this side of the wall. But when it starts barking in the middle of the night.. I mean, again there is no warning. It's like a gun shot. One minute its all quiet and cute and then WOOOOOOFF! Its like a bazillion decibels.. And I swear that is what is going to cause my heart to stop one day. I'm putting that neighbour's dog's name on my death note.

Okaaay.. so maybe dogs are not my best option. I considered cats, but their meow is just so whiny and clingy and yueaack.. Also its not just their meow thats yucky... This one time I was sitting in my balcony staring into nothingness, when I see this cat strolling along on the roof of my house. We make eye contact. I wondered if I should run (ok blah so I'm kinda scared of cats too. I'm scared of anything that has claws.) But then I figured it was at a safe distance so I settle down and decided to have a bit of a chat. It was the most attentive cat, I'd ever met. It never took my eyes off me throughout the conversation. But it was also highly inexpressive which made me feel a little awkward. All of a sudden the cat starts jerking its head back and forth, like a bad dance move. I'm like what the.. and BARF. Bright yellow liquid burst out of the cat's mouth. And so that is how I dislike all insensitive cats who throw up listening to your problems.

And finally it was my sister who helped me decide on my animal pal.. She got me not one not two not three but four best friends for my birthday. Kinds that don't shed fur or slobber or puke on you. She got me Chicken! Three female ones and one male. I was just thrilled. Sure, I've had a life-altering experience with a chicken in the past (too long to explain. will write as a whole different post someday) I decided to let bygones be bygones and welcome these charming creatures back into my life.

We got a little house build for them and painted it and everything. And one of the hens started laying eggs.. and when they hatched, I felt like a mom would when she sees her baby(s) for the first time. My mom said that we'd have to dye them green so as to camouflage them from crows and eagles. Which was great except then we could'nt find them later either amidst all the greens.

This one time one of the little chicks hurt its leg and dad brought it inside the house and me and my sister tried to feed it and everything. And we fixed it a bed inside a box and I sang it to sleep and ran to its side everytime it woke up in the night. It went right back to sleep when I cupped it in my hands. The whole happy feeling the movies showed were coming to life alright..........Until...

They all grew up and turned into.. well.. animals! They'd poop anywhere and everywhere. They do IT anywhere and everywhere with anyone. I swear, there was something really creepy about the way that rooster looked at me sometimes. Brrr..

And the worst of all.. you know how in movies and everything, they symbolize morning with a faint yet refreshing sound of rooster crowing.. and you're all like aaahh and feel nice and warm inside. right? Well, movies are nothing but a loada bull-crap. There is nothing refreshing or warm or nice bout a rooster crowing. Because first of all, my rooster has got its biological clock all messed up. It crows at 12 in the night then at 2 then again anywhere between 4 and 6. Messed up, I tell you. All of the chickens abandoned the nice home we built them and took to perching on the open windows of my bedroom. So when they do the whole cock-a-doodle-do.. which by the way is nothing like that, its like a creepy croak crossed between an agonizing yet blood-thirsty scream. And at that hour, its like a bloody Dolby system. At one point we had two roosters, one at each window. So when one stops the other would follow. Torture.. it was Ultimate torture. Up to a point where I would actually pry my eyelids open, grab a mop from the bathroom and wave it frantically out the window hoping to stick it through their throats. My dad was all like you shouldn't stop them, it's a part of their instincts and nature and blah.. So you sleep in my room then, I retort. Uh-uh no way.. Ha!

Finally we decided to give the roosters away. This lady my mom knew came by the house to pick them up one day. She needed help putting one of the roosters into a large bag. So I helped while the rooster looked at me for not more than a second with those beady black eyes and WHAM, pecked me nice and hard. He had gotten his revenge for all the mop poking nights.

I said goodbye to him then but I still have an ugly dark scar between my thumb and index finger to remember him forever. And ok I admit although I was ecstatic about being able to sleep in late, I missed seeing the lil fellow strut his stuff looking like he owned the place.

Maybe chickens are not the answer to lifelong happiness. They brought that much needed drama back into my life. And I'm grateful to them for that. As for a new best friend... I think I've got one in my fridge right now. A huge tub of chocolate ice cream! Yay! Nothing can beat that kind of happiness! Ta!

Stupid Cupid

2010-06-17T01:49:00.000-07:00

I know a lotta unhappy single people. Ok no I don't. Only unhappy single person I know is me. Apparently the whole entire rest of the world is busy hooking up. So anyways, I came up with a list of reasons why its so fantabulously awesome being single. Now, I know lotta un-single people are gonna read this and have a problem with it. Well, screw you. I'm gona say all sorta rubbish if its gona make me feel better. You go cry bout it to your girl/guy while I cry bout it to.. um.. well my computer. Wow, now that does not make me look like a geek at all!

10 reasons to stay single

1. You're saner. Notice how people in love just seem to lose it? I mean up until the day before it happens, they're all normal. The very next day they're stressing over questions to which the answer seems pretty darn simple to you..Lose the guy/girl! As a single person, you do not forget that PDA is gross. You do not forget that "mushy fwd messages" are not an appropriate status message. You do not forget that colour-coding your clothes with anyone is lame.

2. You get to play the field. The most obvious reason of them all. And even if your not even in the field and have no intention of playing, you still have the option. (unless you're a geek who complains to her computer) which is quite a relief. Its like having a whole lotta apples instead of one big pineapple. Besides if some of the apples rot, you have still more apple. If the pineapple rot, you think you can throw it out, but u can't. You're stuck with the pineapple, the spikes and everything. And sometimes pineapples tend to make your tongue itch. Ever notice that? Um, I mean the actual pineapples. Lost track of the metaphor.

3.You don't have to dress to impress. I mean, I know not a lotta people do it, but i happen to know a few couple who wears only exactly what the other person wants them to wear. Everyday. Which I think is completely and utterly ridiculous. Same goes with changing hairdos and piercings and moreon. When people are done asking parents for permission, they find themselves a new permission-giver. Then again, these kindsa couples are not that common any more, but they do still exist just for the sole purpose of making me gag.

4. I can choose not to pick up the phone and not be given the third degree for it. Nobody spends a sleepless night if I forget to call back after I promised I would (well not a lotta people) or if I fall asleep while speaking to them. I do not require special talktime schemes and free messages or lovey dovey fwd messages. I don't have to call a certain somebody first on New Year's or Valentines Day or Christmas or when England wins the World Cup. I can just randomly punch numbers. I don't have to send Good Night and Good Morning messages (I wouldnt even if I had to) I don't have to explain why my phone was busy or switched off or why I took so long to pick up. I don't need to depend on any certain sumbody's call or message to make me happy or turn my day better. I can choose whoever I want to make me smile.

5. I don't have to worry about waxing.

6. I don't have to pretend to laugh at unfunny things.No such thing like even if noone elses laughs, I'm supposed to laugh. No such obligation. I don't have to like things I don't have to like. Like cricket or action movies or v-necks.

7. I don't have to think bout any special somebody when I hear any song or movie or book. I can just hear the song or watch the movie or read the book without distractions.

8. I get to use public transport and not the backseat of some ratty old bike or car, Or worse, walk!

9. I get to go shopping and walk past the men's wear section without thinking "Oh, so and so would look so nice in this". I get to spend all my money on me!

10. I don't have to wait for just one person to tell me I'm beautiful or gorgeous. I can just put up an awesome profile pic up and get like a bazillion comments And likes.

And one more..

11. Movies with tragic endings where the hero and heroine don't end up together makes me happy. Its realistic.. or so I like to think.

And ok one more thing. What's the deal with cupid? Is it a kid or a midget or a what? And if it's a lil kid then how can he be setting people up? I mean he's just a kid. Aren't girls and lovey stuff supposed to be ''yucky'' to him? If its a midget, then who wants to be set up by a dude in a diaper?? And I doubt if he's had much of a personal life to start with thanks to the diaper and insanely red cheeks.

So I end on a happy note. Singledom is to be cherished. Singledom is a gift from God. Singledom ROCKS!

Ready. Get Set. View!

2010-04-17T13:28:00.000-07:00

Bird watching, whale watching, solar eclipse viewing, tv viewing and bride-viewing. Ugh.
Bride-viewing. Ugh.
Honestly though, I never really had a problem with the whole process. I thought it was something that everyone just has to go through and it was rather fun when my sisters had to do it. But seriously.. bride-viewing.. ugh..I'm sorry everytime I say the word it makes me wanna say ugh cos it is...just UGH! Viewing it seems. Like a bride.. is a view.. and why is it bride viewing? The bride "views" the groom too! Why not groom-viewing? Ugh. Ok maybe it the viewing bit that gets to me. Viewing. Yeesh... I just checked the thesaurus to see if there is a better term... apparently it could only get a lot worse. It could be bride-observation or bride-scrutiny or bride-analysis (You gotta admit this one sounds kinda cool though) or bride-inspection. Yuck. No matter what you call it, the whole damn process will remain as yucky as ever. For those who are not familiar with the grand process, you could either google it... or I could just tell you since you've been kind enough to read bout it this far without having a clue what I'm talking bout. Bride viewing is when a random guy's mum n dad decides to meet up with a random girl's mom n dad for tea or whateva and talk to each other for say half hour and let the random guy and girl talk for maybe 10 minutes as a result of which they are expected to fall head over heels in love with each other and want to marry each other immediately. But the guy falling in love with the girl will be unaccounted for if the mom and dad does not fall in love with the girl first, based on her looks, the number of ornaments she is (read - been forced to) wearing, her posture, her voice, her teeth, her skin colour, her size (now I could be referring to any size..including shoe size), the way she ties her hair, if she's smudged her kohl, the way she makes small talk and the way she smiles and smiles until her cheeks fall off. After which the guy's mom n dad has to fall in love with the girl's mom and dad. And the house. And the furniture. And the car. And the servant. And more. You would sooo not have found a defnition this apt if you had googled. :-)
So anyways, I kinda thought that it was gonna be fun. I mean if you think of it, you get to check out a random guy head to toe without even having to step out of the house and with your parents permission. How bizzare is that!?
Except the closer you get to actually experiencing it, the more you realise that this is a bad bad idea.
The first guy who came to see me... well I didnt even give the poor guy a chance. I told my dad that I don't think I like the guy right after I read his biodata and saw his picture which I believe he took right after or right before he threw up. I also dug up stuff from Facebook and Orkut about the poor lad that could help me justify why exactly I don't like him. Even then my dad was under the impression that if I "just speak to the guy, I will change my mind" and fall hopelessly in love with him. I didn't think so but whatever. Decided to humor him.
The only thing I was worried bout was everyone making a big huge deal out of it and getting all nervous. I was hardly nervous or excited about it. I was totally and entirely tensed about my driver's license test the next day though. This seemed like a cakewalk compared to that.
Things were all good until the relatives show up. I forgot to mention that for these kinda "ceremonies" more often than not, relatives and friends are invited to witness the grand event all and to bug you until you wanna run off and join a monastery. So until then everyone was minding their own business and I was playing with my nephew and the chickens n all. The relatives bug me into changing my clothes and getting ready although it would be hours until the "viewers" would show up. I didn't argue. I went and changed into "very" decent girl clothes and totally did everything they wanted me to and tried my best to turn me into someone I'm not. One of my relatives wanted me to slap on a coupla layers of foundation. That really pissed me off. I mean say I get married to this dude. And the day after I'm married he sees me without the 10 layers of foundation, I wouldn't want him to die of heart failure. I mean in this setting, I'm really not gonna get married to a guy who loves me for my personality or shit. Mite as well marry a guy who likes me for what I truely and honestly look like atleast. So yeah anyway, I swallow my frustration and ignore everything else they have to say.

Anyway to cut the long story short, the guy shows up. And I was busy playing with the chicken. Mom announces their arrival and suddenly I have this incredible urge to laugh uncontrollably. I reaally hoped I wouldn't go stand in front of them and have a giggling fit. Maybe it was then that the ridiculousness of it all sank in. I sneak a peek and see the guy who looks up and sees me at the same time. In a normal situation I would've totally gone all la-la-la at this point since I loooove filmy moments like this. Right then it just made my stomach ache. Not in a good way either. I was forbidden from going out there and meeting them until I'm called out. So I'm sitting there in my room, texting my friends and waiting and waiting cos I was really hungry and my folks had got all these goodies and snacks for when these people show up. My sis comes in and tells me that they're eating now. Oh goody now I can go. No not yet, says Sis. Ugh.
So I'm waiting and waiting. They finish eating and they still havent called me out. Now I was like oh good, maybe they all forgot all about me and why they came and now they'll just leave and this nightmare will be over! And thats when Mum comes in with the same smug smile she had when she once caught me checking out guys from the window in my room, before I could even deny what I was doing. I'm not sure why she had that smile on now. Anyhow, I step out with a broad fake smile. I totally rock at fake smiles. You can never ever tell when I'm faking it. Its an art that I've perfected. So I'm fake smiling at all these people and I totally check the guy out. And the first impression that I have of him is that he's the kinda guy you see in buses. Not the touchy-feely jerks. The kinds that sit in the last seat and stare at you until you get off the bus. I had a feeling I might've even seen this fellow in a bus somewhere. And he was staring at me right then. Yikes.
The mom and aunt and whoever that was makes small talk. I smile and talk, smile and talk. I felt like I was acting out the part of decent prospective bride in some B-grade movie.
And as much as I hated all of it and wanted to kill everyone for making me do it, I was obliged to behave. Too complicated to explain why.
There were these awkward silences where noone would say anything. They'd just have these huge toothy smiles and they'd all be staring at me. You have nooo idea how freaky that is. You look at them and they're just smiling and staring. Like in psycho movies! So I look at the guy. Who looks away whenever I look at him. Hello! What was with this dude?! He looked extremely uncomfortable and was totally fake laughing too. Well, it sounded fake.And he kept laughing at things that weren't funny at all! I hate having to do that. Smiling is ok. I really can't laugh at unfunny things unless its done/said by a really really Really cute guy. But even that have limits.
Hmm, anyway everything depended on the 5 minutes that I get to talk to him personally. I had even prepared a list of things I could ask him (few of which were totally vetoed by mum). I had the whole thing planned in my head. Either I prove to mum and dad that this guy is totally unmarry-able or I find something or the other to make him seem irresistable. Anything could happen in those 5 minutes.
Dad utters the sacred words : Maybe we should let the two of them speak privately.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
Guy (looking bewildered) : I don't have anything to say!
Me (in my head) : You've got to bloody kidding me! How the %$*& am I gonna fall madly and crazily in love with you if you don't let me talk to you! Should I say that I wanna talk? Would that be breaking the "decency" code? Do I really want to talk to this guy anyway? Why prolong this process? The sooner they leave, the sooner I can eat.
So I say nothing. Blah. Who cares.
I look at the food sadly. It was all almost over. :-(
I sadly look over at the little boy who came along with these people. He was kicking a ball towards my nephew. *sigh* I could kick way better than that. I wanted to go play with them. Damned bride-viewing nonsense. I look at the guy again who looks away again. Ugh.
When they all finally got up to leave, one of the women who came along with them held my hand and said goodbye. And she wouldn't let go! She was smiling and staring and smiling and not letting go! I freaked! I thought she wanted to take me home right then itself! Yeah sure like I'd go home with the guy who doesn't even wanna talk to me. I really couldnt understand it though. Why didn't he wanna talk to me? And why did he have to look so appalled at the idea of it? I hardly look intimidating. I couldn't even intimidate a lil baby! What was that guy's problem anyway?! Stupid guy missed the conversation of a lifetime. Oh well, his loss.

Before he left he once again did the whole filmy thing and turned around and glanced one last time and stuff. Very filmy. Yeah, can't speak to me but puts up all this filmy shit. Yeah. Okay.Whatever.
Anyhow, that ended and turns out nobody liked anybody very much and that was my narrow escape.
I still think that the custom sucks but its actually fun to think of now. And its given me something to write about.
Few more people came to see me after that. But it was all awfully dull. My sister figured I should just give in and marry some guy to put an end to these visits. Yeah, the ultimate reason to get married! I'm sure 'll figure out another way out of this. I've got time until my next bride-viewing session, don't I? Ugh!

Interviewobia!

2010-02-27T08:48:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder what Hell is gonna be like? I personally think Hell is gonna be different for different people. For me its gonna be this room with a chair in it and and a big scary man waiting, armed with an endless list of questions for an interview that lasts for an eternity. As in job-interview.. not celebrity interview(well not yet atleast). And you know wat? Those interviewers could be in their version of Hell as well...Cos trust me... If you're ever given the opportunity to interview me... turn around and run for your life. Its gonna hurt you more than its gonna hurt me.. Hurt or rather make you wanna kill yourself.

When I begin an interview, its almost like my brains stop functioning and the only words in my vocabulary are "ummm" and "what?".I suck so bad that I might as well go dye my hair blond and get a boob-job done. (I've nothing against that sections of people in the society personally. I've never even met one actually. I'm just quoting somebody.)
I've always been supremely bad at anything that involved questions and answers being spoken aloud. I tell people "I knew the answer to that but I just got so nervous and I forgot it." Thats not really true. Yes, I get nervous but most of the time I have nooo clue what the answer is either. I mean, I prepare so hard most of the time and work out specific answers. Like if I've memorized A,B,C and the interviewer goes "Sooooo, what comes after B?", I would toootally freak out and sing him the ummm song. I sometimes wish I could just say "I dunno".. but someone once told me never admit to not knowing anythin during an interview. Which is a pity cos that would've been my reply to pretty much aall the questions - Why do you want to work in advertising? I dunno. What sort of a renumeration do you expect? I dunno. Do you prefer design or copy? I dunno. Cos seriously and honestly I don't know! They should have something like an open test where they ask the questions and then give you like a week or a month to come up with the answers. I could've googled aall the questions then and come up with wonderful answers. Sometimes life feels so meaningless and empty without Google.
I always flunked vivas in college. I got a zero for a Hindi spoken test once and I thought it was hilarious at that point. But its kinda pathetic now when you think of it. And one time this viva lady inturrupted me while I was giving her an answer to her question and said -"My dear child, you're not making mistakes.. you're making blunders!" And I just gave her a beeg toothy smile, cos I had noo idea what she meant, just like I had noo idea what her question was and no idea what on earth I was goin on about. I mean, wasn't blunders and mistakes the same? Huh?
The reason I was unemployed for sooo long was whenever I applied some place and they called back to set a date for an interview and I chickened out and ran for cover. I can't help it! Its a disease!! Or is it? Ok, Google break!

Ok so maybe there is'nt exactly an interview phobia but maybe its somthing like a cross between Phronemophia (Fear of Thinking) and Ophthalmophobia (Fear of being Stared at) and Lalophobia (Fear of Speaking). So my point being, its really not something I can help.
I figured maybe if I were to do a phone interview, I would fare much better since I wouldn't have to see the big scary question man. So I went through a phone interview recently and sadly enough it wasnt any better... if not worse.
I messed up right from the beginning.
He goes - Hello.
I go Hello.
He- I'm so n so calling from so n so company for that interview we scheduled this morning.
Me- Oh.. Helloooow (The hello normal people usually reserve for pretty lil girls or babies)
Ugh.
The guy was totally sweet. He probably actually figured I've been transplanted with a 6 year old's brain so he spoke to me appropriately. I applaud his patience. I mean I concluded by the end of the conversation that this was a man with a wife and young children cos there is noo way he could've put up with thaaat much bullshit for thaat long. He kept asking me stuff like he aaactually expected me to know the answer. I mean they were simple questions. And I would've been able to have given him essay answers to them had he given me say coupla hours or days to think about it. Poor guy wanted me to answer em soo bad. At one point it went like this.. This is the hypothetically version k. Say he had asked me somthing like "Ok what is green-eyed and goes meow?"
I went like ummmm...ummmmm..ummm for a good 5 minutes. And then finally went kaa...
He was like yeaaaah...yeaaahh?
Me - Kaaa...umm..
Him - Kaaaa...?What comes after kaaa... Come on now, you can do it.
Me - Ummm...
Him- Do you want to think about it for a while?
Me- Yes!
Him - Ok, tell me when you want me to prompt you.
Me - Okay......Hmmmm.........(silence)........ummmm....(silence)......well......(silence)......
Him - Do you want me to prompt you now? (Its almost like he's begging me to put him outta his misery)
Me - Umm.. okay.

Him - The first part is correct. Its also has a tail and rhymes with Mat!

Me - Ummmmmmmmmmmmm....... Kaa...at?

Him- YESSSS! (trust me, he wouldn't know such joy even as his son graduates from college)

But he's a daredevil this guy. He actually goes and asks me a 2nd question. I almost felt sorry for him.
So this is to all the interviewers I've encountered at some stage of my life... on behalf of the bright-eyed unspeakably dumb female who sat in front of you and made you Hate your job, I'm sorry. But it really is a disease!

Wedding Bells are Ringing...And Ringing...And Ringing..

2010-02-14T09:45:00.000-08:00

Do you ever sit at home and think when you have absolutely nothing to do - "If only I had someplace to go or something to do?" And then like someone heard u say that, BAM!! Its Wedding Season.

        Weddings are great. I totally love weddings. I cry at most of em. Well, if not for happy couple, cos of the heat or cos of the sticky/pokey/itchy/un-breathably-dressy dressy clothes.
Or I'm smiling. At every random person who comes up to me and goes "Oh my god! How you've grown!" I mean I would've seen them just the day before at another wedding and I've grown since then? Really?
          But no seriously though. I love weddings. I love dressing up. I love seeing people all dressed up. And each wedding is like a whole different movie. Sure its nothing like in the movies. No nach-gaana n all. And you don't meet any Salman Khan types there(not that I like Salman Khan, I'm just refering to a wedding movie guy). But there is almost always this one guy who you play "aankon ki ishare" with at each wedding. As in one guy per wedding. Not the same guy. Thats it. No talking. No exchanging numbers. No complications. A smile maybe is as far as it would go. Thats the beauty of this relationship. You don't even know if you'll see them again. Most probably not. Its like a one-night stand..At the sweetest level.
And sometime when you go digging for info and you find that you've been eyeball-flirting with your far far far related cousin but still your cousin or worse your nephew, it just makes it a tad bit icky. So ignorance is bliss.
                 Althooooough.. sumtimes, it could be heart-breaking too... This one time I fell absolutely head over heels fell in love with this aMazing looking Rahul Gandhi types guy at a wedding only to realise that he's the groom. Blah. So yeah, sometimes finding out minor details like that does not hurt.
And its also no fun when you don't have the right sorta company at weddings. I was sitting around with this aunt of mine at one wedding when she went "Oh ooh look at the guy in the white shirt. Like him?"
I was taken aback for a bit then I'm like "Umm.. well no not really.. "
She: Oh.
Pause
Me: I liked this other guy I saw sumtime back. (I did'nt wanna disappoint her)
she: Who who who?
me: scanning crowd " Ohhh him near the door. White striped shirt."
she to other aunties : she liked that guy over there.
other aunties: that skinny guy? Hmm really..who is he?
me: Oh My GOD! (WTF!)
She: Do you know who he is?
me: Um.. no. Do you?
she: Nope! I'll go find out.
me: Wha.. wait..
And before I can say anything more, she's gone. Vroom... I can't stop laughing. This is so unreal. I'm all like I should've hung out with my aunties more often if they were gona be so considerate. I mean I have never had anyone try and find out stuff about a guy for me at weddings. Well not an aunt anyway. This is soooo awesome!
She comes back.
me: Well?

she: Finished his MBA, shudh jatakam (clean horoscope, i guess), thats his mom and dad..(pointing at people i do not even bother looking at)

and she launches into a conversation with mum and other aunties..
Thats it? His name? His number? Does he have a girlfriend?? Is he on Facebook? Hellooo..
So like I said.. the right company... very important.

Okay, lets forget about guys now (Nooooooooooo not completely.. lets just tuck them into a smaller part of our brain)

I like to look at the couple on stage and figure out how their future is gonna be. I mean you can totally tell if you stare at them long enough. I cannot give you examples without offending anyone. So you try it yourself.
I don't like the fact that my hair sometimes gets mixed in the food. I've had a lotta unusual things hang off my hair. (And I'm not just talkin bout food)
I like the drum roll at weddings (a south-indian wedding speciality. I don't know if it happens at northie weddings. Actually I dunno what happens at a north-indian wedding. I've never been to one :-( I'm kinda hoping its like the wedding Priyanka and Shahid's wedding in Kaminey. That is like my secret dream wedding. It would be so incredibly awesome to get married like that. Dance dance dance Marry dance dance dance.) The drum roll when the big knot tying happens. It sorta replicates the heartbeat of the bride and groom at that point. And it always gives me goosebumps. Its so final. Like this is it. Knot tied. Chained for life. Its like that Shania Twain song - From this moment...um.. something something happens.. I don't remember wat. But the Moment. This is that moment. One thing I've noticed though. Most of the wedding, the groom just sorta places the chain around the bride's neck. He tries to work the clasp (hehe no not thaat clasp..please! Dirty-minded people) I meant the clasp thingy on the chain. And fails. So the groom's mum or sister does the actual tying. So technically, its the groom's mum or sis who marries the girl..hyuk hyuk! Oh crap, you know wat? When this same thing happens at my wedding, I'll probably snort and start giggling cos I'll think of this. See, this is why people like me should not be allowed to get married.
But to those who went ahead and did it.. I Applaud You.
The biggest daredevils on earth are married. Thats why they're really and truely called daredevils.

I Hate Because I Can

2010-01-19T01:21:00.000-08:00

Dr. Sigmund Freud defined hate as an ego state that wishes to destroy the source of its unhappiness. More recently, the Penquin Dictionary of Psychology defines hate as a " deep, enduring, intense emotion expressing animosity, anger, and hostility towards a person, group or object."

5 Things I Hate

Picking up the phone
I absolutely de-test having to pick up the house phone. Cos a) nobody ever calls me in dat. and b) I hate having to make small talk with whoever does call. It just infuriates my mom when I'm sitting like 2cms away from the phone and still make her walk all the way from the kitchen to come up pick up the damn thing. And I hate when people respond to a Hello with a Hello. And then I say Hello again and they say Hello again and I say Hello again and.... Grrr. Makes me want to reach into the phone and clobber the person on the other end. I kinda appreciate prank calls in a way. Cos they keep the conversations short and simple. And its ok to hang up rudely. One time this breather calls up (breather : person who calls on the phone and instead of talking demostrates interesting breathing patterns instead) and I was in a real bad mood so I come out with all abuses I was aware of at that point. And all of a sudden the breather goes Hello and he sounds an awful lot like my Dad's Boss. Ugh. I hang up and pray that a third leg emerges out of the back of my neck so that I can kick myself conviniently. I've never been able to look the guy straight in the eye after that. And I never really figured out why he called up to breath.

Having a snot sneeze

Sometimes its nice because it sorta like clears your head and stuff. But have you ever had a snot sneeze when lying flat on ur back and have no tissue or hanky nearby? Not a pretty picture, I tell you. It was different when we were little kids and it was okay to wipe it whereever we wanted (what, that was not okay??) And are you kind who looks into the hanky after sneezing? I am. Can't help it. I have to see if it made a pretty little pattern. Please don't stop visiting my blog cos I'm such a pig.

And also at this point, I would like a moment of silence to think about Tariq, the booger eater in my class in Grade one. I mean sure we all used to go all eww and stuff, but I secretly had a crush on him for making an effort to be different.

People Looking at me Brush my Teeth
Brushing to me is almost as personal as peeing or bathing. Thing is I'm not the neatest brusher on earth. I'm a sloppy brusher. I get foam all over the place. Its like a foam fest. If someone were standing next to me, I'd get a little foam on them as well. I get creeped out thinking bout couples who brush together and share the same toothbrush and stuff. My husband would want to divorce me at the sight of my toothbrush alone. Tends to look like I washed the entire bathroom with it.

Having to repeat myself 867493826 times

So okay maybe I don't have the loudest voice in the world. But sometimes I feel that people just go "huh?" just to annoy you. I usually try twice and then say "its not important" the third time. Do you know how many important thoughts of mine have been left unsaid cos it this? Thank god I have this blog.

My nose
I didn't always hate it. I mean it was a normal nose until the day I was suddenly cursed. See I used to make fun of my sister's nose throughout half my life. So I'm sure she had something to do with my nose turning out the way it did. Its like what someone said somewhere once : I look at the mirror in the morning and the first thing I run into is my nose... or something like that. It was funnier when I read it. If anyone knows the quote I'm talkin bout please let me know. So yeah thats my case. I wouldnt call it the biggest part of my body. Maybe the 4rth biggest. But its defnitely the biggest thing on my face.

How did the damn chicken do it???

2009-12-22T00:33:00.000-08:00

This is it. Its now or never.
Sweat is dripping down my face. I clutch the end of my dupatta. Close my eyes and send a silent prayer upwards. I bite my lips. Worry lines form on my forehead. People are staring. I can tell. I can feel their eyes on me. They're laughing. I can hear it in my head. I look right. I look left. My leg inches forward. And then jerks backwards. I do this a coupla times. It feels like a stupid dance step now. I look at the man next to me give me a weird look and cross the goddamn road without a care in the world.
I mean how.. how do people do that? Cross that obstacle of death just like that like they're walking from their bedroom to the kitchen? I mean its an open trap. Its like running through fire. Like jumping put the window and hoping to land safely... I need help. I can't cross roads. :-(
I am gona have to sue my kindergarten teachers. They made it seem so simple. Just look right. Left. and Walk... uh like yeah right!! Its more like Look left..right.. then left right left right left right frantically till you feel you head spinning. Then venture onwards and then change your mind. Then step backwards then try again..and again and again and again. Maybe you'll make it on your 20th attempt.
And when this is whole road-crossing-step-dance is going on, I feel that the whole world is looking at me. Not just when I'm giving myself motivational you-can-do-this-have-faith-in-yourself talks. Just generally when I'm standing there looking stupid when the rest millions of people have already crossed. They're probably not looking cos they probably don't have That much time to waste.
I think the joke should've gone "How did the chicken cross the road?" Because I sure as hell don't care why he did it.
The one thing that I totally respect the teachers for teaching us regarding road crossing is to hold someones hands.. I mean my dad still grabs my hand when we're crossing roads. I totally give him the "oh pfft please,dad.. Do I look 5 to you?" expression and snorts, but still subtly tighten my grip at the same time.
But I totally detest guys or people who go "Hmm, why do all girls make such a huge deal bout crossing roads?" Ok that statement was totaaally uncalled for.. by many of you. Just cos I'm a road-crossing-dummy does not mean that you can generalize. You've already tagged the "bad driver" tag on women (which btw is sooo not true either. My driving is getting great each passing day. And I've only crashed once! No biggie!)
You know what I looove though. Bridges. I think they should put em everywhere.. Or have like a lil button which when pressed has like a tiny yellow bridge( I dunno why yellow) unfold from underground and assemble automatically whenever needed.. Ooorr.. Those walk, don't walk lil red and green men would be fine too.. Easier since its already been invented. I'm not too sure bout how I feel bout the zebra crossing thingies. I mean I like the fact that if someone hits you when you are at a zebra, you get lotta money n all.. Dunno if its worth it..Hmm..
I've had a coupla experiences while crossing roads. Especially in those roads that are actually not roads but a football ground parading around as a road. I mean those things where 500 roads meet. How, on earth does one cross that thing? I'd probably close my eyes and run screaming at the top of my voice, all the way to the other end. I admire how people talk on the phone while crossing the road. I mean talk bout multi-tasking. I can't even walk and drink water at the same time. Let alone defy death and enquire about..whatever I'm enquiring bout on the phone, at the same time.
Its amazing how dogs do it. In my life-time I've never seen even one dog get hit by a vehicle when crossing roads. I'm sure they do. But most of the time they make such narrow escapes. Its like they're trained. They should have like a Road-Crossing class as a secondary subject in Driving schools. Where you learn in not so busy roads and then graduate to medium busy and then finally to something like a highway or something, which is where I think I'm gonna die someday.
While I think of a way to put that idea across to my driving school officials, you take care of yourself when you're crossing the roads. Its actually no laughing matter. Pedestrian fatalities have increased by 20 percent, from 105 in 2005 to 126 in 2006. Well, thats in Ontario, Canada. I googled and this is all I could find in short notice. But you get the message. Be sure to look right.. and left.. and right left right left right left right left right... You'll get used to the dizziness after some time.

For the Love of Tea!

2009-11-05T11:16:00.000-08:00

It was like just any other normal day. That was until Mom decides to disappear. She does that every now and then and I used to get all freaked out thinking she got abduct by aliens or carried away by giant bees or shrunk and fell down the sink (Ok, this was when I was really really young). But no, it always turns out to be something boring like she went shopping or she was at the neighbours or something blah.
So I wake up one Sunday morning (read afternoon) to see she's pulling a Mary Poppins disappearing act on me again. So its just me and Dad in the house. And its almost time for tea. And I knew that Dad was gonna turn into the Scrooge from The Christmas Past (Or was that the Grinch?) if he doesn't get his tea on time. So I do what I do best. I go to my room and send Mom telepathic messages. I would've called her on her phone but knowing Mom, it would most probably start ringing from somewhere right behind me and scare the hibijeebies outta me. My telepathy would've worked just fine if Dad hadn't come into the room with his Great Idea!
The Great Idea involved Me going into the Kitchen and doing whatever it is that they do and come up with his life-replenishing cup of Tea! Me - Kitchen- Tea. Uh, yeah right!
But you do not shake your head or utter any word that may in any sense convey the meaning of "NO WAY DADDIO" in the house during the days on which Dad is tea-deprived.
So in a state of hopeless surrender, I venture into the kitchen. Tea... how hard can it be? I've even made it before like a bazillion years ago. When I poured burning hot water onto my hand and ran around the apartment like a screaming banshee (what is a screaming Banshee anyway?Have to google that sometime) So yeah, can't say I'm an entire amateur in this department.

So I see cups, we need that. I see boiling round pan like thing which I'm not sure what its called. Its the thing in which you boil milk. The Boiler. Right.
So I know your either suppose to boil milk or water in it to make tea. Hmm...
Okay so I leave that for then and open the cupboard to find the tea bags. Instead I find like 10 billion unlabelled bottles of brown coloured powder. Awesome.
I do not find any tea bags which is like a huge bummer because that whole tea-making fiasco I had years ago involved tea bags. Tea without tea-bags...now thats like a whole different ball game. Oh well. I'm half way in. Might as well go all the way in and drown and die possibly.
I open up one of the bottle and sniff. Aaah, the heavenly scent of fresh tea. Well, that was probably not fresh tea, but how was I to know what fresh tea smelt like anyway, so this was good enough.
Found the sugar too. And milk too. Ok, so I had all the ingredients. Now I just had to figure out in which order to put them all together. Minutes tick by. Dad gets grouchier. Okay, thats it. There was no use in pretending any furthur that I could do this. I get my phone and call up the next best thing to mom (in terms of tea-making.. well ok in a lotta other terms too :-P).. My sister!
With no time for hellos or you know whats, I explain the situation to her. She tells me exactly what to do. To put in the......um....well ok I don't remember what she told me anymore, but yeah she told me what she told me.
Oh and she told me to put in the tea powder only when the milk starts boiling. I'm like all yeah yeah hey did you see the new trailor of blah blah blah blah.... and whooooop the milk sorta like starts inflating itself and pops outta the Boiler. I put in the tea powder and turn off the stove. The milk stops acting crazy.
Hmmm.. ok, thats it? This is tea? Why is all white? And why is the tea powder floating bout like little blackheads on the top? Ok, maybe I should like let it boil a little longer.
I turn the stove back on and stand back in case the milk decides to jump out on me again. It seemed normal. It was even turning the right color. Yay!
Sis had asked me use the filter thingy to keep out the tea powder because it would'nt get dissolved. I couldn't find any tea residue in there but that was probably because I boiled it twice. Hmm, now there's something I should tell my sister to try. With a smile on my face, I pour my work of art into a cup and stared in horror. What had began as a cup of milk filled to the brim was now 1/4th of a cup of tea. What the!
With no time to ponder over the marvels of evaporation and stuff, I ransack the cupboard and find the tiniest possible tea cup that we owned. I poured in the tea into this miniscule cup which filled up immediate and made the world a happier place for me again.
I place it on a saucer and take it over to Dad who looked like something else that I would refer to as the Boiler now. I hand him the tea and go to my room. The thing with my dad is whatever I do, he praises me like crazy and ends it with "You should've studied to be a ....". So far I've got baker, interior designer, massuese, artist, nurse/doctor, actor, hair stylist, gardener, table setter and food decorator.
So I kneeeew he was gonna tell me how good my tea is and how I should have been a professional tea-maker so I didn't stick around for it. But then of course, exactly three seconds later he calls me back. I'm like "Hoo boy, here we go again!"
Me: Yes, dad?
Dad: Hmm, this is really good, dear, but umm...just a tiny little thing...this is Coffee. I asked for tea.
Me: Whaaaa? (splutter, gasp, splutter)
Dad : But thats ok. Its still good. You could like start a little cafe and make coffee professionally. Its really good.
I'm like..I couldn't even think of what to say. How?? How could that happen?How did my tea turn into coffee? I put in tea....didn't I?
Apparently, I can't distinguish between the smell of tea and coffee. So the "heavenly scent of tea" was really the "heavenly scent of coffee". Which also explains the whole magically dissolving "tea" powder. Oh well. At least Dad seems happy. And whats the lesson that I learnt from this? That I apparently can make super good cafe-type coffee. Yawn... so what else is new?

Through My Rose-Colored Glasses

2009-10-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

Remember a time when we used to pick on the kid in class who wore glasses? Well, I don't cos I was that kid. I never got what the big deal was anyway. I always wanted to get glasses. I even lied to the ophthalmologist, pretending I could'nt read the white-light board. That was okay, cos I was headed for short-sightedness sooner or later cos of all the reading under the blanket/table with a torchlight and sitting too close to the computer. But then I was psyched when I got my first pair when I was bout 9 or 10. Was those cheap plasticy ones that you could throw down a building and it would'nt break (yes, I've tried that). As much as I loved how grown up and important I looked with em on, I could'nt quite get used to something stuck on my face. So I kept leaving it around. And losing it. I must've lost around 4 to 5 pairs like that.

Then I got these super huge ones black round ones, the damn thing was bigger than my face. It got me my nickname -Dilton. And I was kinda cool with that. And I was slowly getting used to the alien object perched on my nose.In fact, I was getting so used to it that I had them on all the time...even while bathing! And sometimes while sleeping. So I had to throw that one away cos of all the wear and tear it underwent. I don't remember a few pairs I had in between.

Later I had these funky blue ones. Like Elton John's. No...not quite,no. I think those were my last pair. No, I did'nt magically regain my sight after that. I moved up to contact lenses.

Now these lil suckers can be tricky at first. I sure was'nt comfortable with having to poke my eyeball with my finger. So I had to let my experienced sister do it for me for the first coupla weeks. Each eye took bout half an hour. I applaud my sister's patience. Though I do think she tried to poke my eyeball out intentionally a coupla times.

I hated the whole washing and cleaning and added responsibility that comes with contacts and the way I constantly pushed an invisible specs up the bridge of my nose, every five minutes. But I got sorta grew into it. Now I'm a total pro at contacts. Now I can put em on with my eyes closed...well...no..not really..its an expression..you get what I mean! Oh, I got a better one. Now I can put em on in the dark or even when I'm really really drunk.

So halfway through college, I was in a phase where I would'nt be caught dead wearing my glasses inside the campus. One time, I even ran outta contacts and I had to go someplace and I refused to step out wearing my glasses so I just held on to my friend so that she could lead the way and told her to inform me if anyone I know smiles at me from a distance. And my dear friend pointed out to a lotta random strangers every now and then and told me to smile. And I did. Not the decent small smile. The big huge gums and teeth and everythin beaaaming smile. I have no idea why I smiled like that. Maybe I was having a really good day or something. So yeah ha ha funny funny. Geez.

Then I got these ULTRA-COOL (well, at the point they were) square-shaped black frame glasses. And I could'nt stop wearing them! It totally gave me the mature look (15 years later and I was still depending on my glasses to make me look mature) Not the nerdy mature, the attitude-mature look. Although one of my friends did tell me I look like Johnny Bravo's mom. Hmm...

How I lost those glasses...I don't like to remember that story. I was in the bathroom, on the pot. I sneezed. It dropped off my face and fell in there. As much as I loved those glasses, I wasn't about to go in there. So I flushed. :-(

The one after that broke one of its legs so I stuck it on with cello-tape and used it for about a month.

And then my current one. Which was cool when I got em, but its sooo common that it makes me sick. But I use em 24/7. And I'm beyond caring how I look nowadays. So its all good.

Besides, everyone wears glasses nowadays! Even if they don't need it! I mean why do people get em for a power of 0.2 in one eye! Yeesh. Thats a disgrace to the near-sighted community. Few of my friends have got 4 or 5 pairs. Like accessories. To go with their clothes. I mean, is that like normal these days? Is everyone doin that? Should I go spectacle shopping now? Are they selling frames like for 10 bucks now?

I'm not into the whole laser or was it lasik (wait,was'nt that the first dog on space or something?) surgery thingy. Not that I would'nt enjoy having laser beamy things shot into my eyes. I just happen to love the fact that I can't see everything! I know thats weird. But there are so many things on earth I would rather not just see. Like dirt,muck, pollution, dirt, ickiness, gooey gross things, hairy men, war and stuff. I can just take off my glasses and slip into blessed blurriness. You can't ever do that if you have healthy eyes. Sure, I mite bump into people or walk into a glass door or go raving mad when I misplace my glasses, but for me the benefits list run longer. So cherish your glasses, I say!

What's Your Raashee?

2009-09-26T23:20:00.001-07:00

"Whats your raashee?"... I am sooo hyped about that movie. I have'nt watched it yet, cos this middle-of-nowhere place where I live chose to not release it here.

I'm not a big fan of any of the actors init or the dircetor... just the concept...Its soo like noone has ever done a movie on that before...that I know of, that is.

When the first trailor came out n I realised what its all about, I was like WHAAAHOOOOOWWW!! Ok, maybe i should tell you this... I'm an absolute freak when it comes to sun signs n zodiac signs and horoscopes. I love love love it! Ive read lota books on it and there was this one time I could'nt decide how my day is gona go without reading my horoscope in the paper first. Ok maybe not thaat crazy nowadays, but man I just love the concept. The world divided into 12 groups not based on color caste creed or anythin... but based on their raashee..

I'm a Scorpion and I could'nt be happier bout it. It's like the only cool thing in my life! I don't have a cool name or a surname or cool clothes or hairdo. I'm practically vanilla! But everyone knows Scorpions are actually Very Cool people. So even if I've got ketchup on my chin and total bed-hair sorta day, you look someone in the eye and tell them your zodiac sign is Scorpio...they look at you differently. Well, maybe atleast 5 in a million people. I know I do. In fact at one point, everytime I met a new guy I had to read up on their sun signs to decide if he's worth my time. Ok yes now that sounds a lil dumb even to myself but trust me..more often than not, it really worked!

I think these sun signs books are the best kinda self-help books. Be it Linda Goodman (speaking of which, whoever's got my Linda Goodman book, please return it and I mite even return all the books I've flicked from you) or Majorie Orr or that other author whose name I forgot, even if you don't believe in the whole raashee thing, I'd say read it. I think it boosts your confidence no end! Like they tell you your like this n that n this n that...and even if ur not, you'll be like..wow..maybe I am like that.. and unconciously you tend to turn into that. You get it?

I love re-reading them when I'm a lil low on self-esteem or anythin.. Oh, and you need to skip the part where they talk bout your negatives... you could read the negatives of all the people you dislike and be happy bout it.

Ok here is my take on the diff zodiac signs.. n this is not based on any book. This is based on my personal relationship with people under that sign.

Aries - I don't know a lotta Arians apart from my roommate of 5 years. I remember reading a sign book in which it says " You Arian buddy is most likely to strangle you (Scorpions) with a sock." Ever since I ve been a bit weary bout leaving any socks lying around in the room. Oh and I do believe we have very little in common. They're extremly hard-working, focused and a lil looney.

Taurus - Don't have many bulls in my life. I've just heard they're extremely stubborn and hot-tempered.. no personal experience as such.

Gemini - Lotsa Gemini buddys. And I apparently get along with them extremely well. I know one Gemini person whose gonna read that and go "Ha! Yeah right!" C'mon, man..we did get along real well until you started being such a pain. Oh thats another thing bout Geminis. They start off being the perfect companion until one fine day they just decide to IRRITATE the hell outta you. And that thing they say bout them bein two-faced? True, to a certain extend... No actually you know wat? No true to the whole extend... hmm.. but I really do get along with em otherwise :-P Life of the party. Makes friends easy. Very blah blah blah.

Cancer - extremely serious people, I suppose. Cant think of any cancerian friends.

Leo - I get along with them too pretty well. But I don't think Leos understand the way Scorpions are. As in their principles and philospies in life differ. If they choose to ignore that and be happy with each other then well and good. Else it goes down the drain. Leos basically cheerful, likable, charming. Unlike what is normally said I don't think they stick out in a crowd or anythin.. at first..until they start talking... I really like this sign :-)

Virgo - hmmm nope know nothing bout this one.. I did have a virgo friend.. I just don't remember who that was now.

Libra - Hmm... Librans n I have this love-hate relationship. I love em to death. And I get along with em real well. But we're so different sometimes I just cant stand the way they're so different from me! Its like They'll be like lets eat the bourbon biscuit just like that and not lick the cream off in between them first. I'll be like WHY?WHY?WHY would anyone wanna do something like that??? But other than that they're super nice people. One of my sisters is Libran.. :-)

SCORPIO - I think they're the best sign in the world :-) (duh) They're fun! Kinda two-faced like geminis but in a nicer sense :-P My other sister is Scorpion like me. But she's a cusp..as in half Libran and half Scorpion. So that does'nt really count.. thats wat I alwayz tell her. I agree with how they say in the movie "Whats your Rashee" that they're different people in front of different people. Thats really true. Scoripions probably wont get along with scorpions cos they're sooo damn similar... I mean they'll have their fun.. but in the end they'll both be bitching bout each other to other people.

Sagittariaus - I love these people. They're extremly nice. You can talk to them for hours. And they have this hidden wild streak in them too which is not quite evident to a lotta people. I love em. I wanna end up with a Sagittarian someday.

Capricorn - My mom is a Capricorn...so i think they're pretty awesome. Working tirelessly, understanding and caring. The greatest cook ever. Can put up with a lotta shit.

Aquarius- i know nuthin bout this one.

Pisces - My dad is Pisces.. I'm supposed to be most compatible with this sign..but I dunno. Guess I am to a certain extend. We do get along when we're not disagreeing to what each other says. Very sensitive people. Loves to please others. Not the bestest mind reader.

ok this is just my take on these signs. Sorry bout the ones I dunt know anythin bout. Maybe Ill fill it in when I figure it out..

Are you into horoscopes too? Let me know if you agree to anythin I've mentioned up there...And also don't forget to mention - Whats your raashee? :-)

Baby Blues

2009-08-08T12:41:00.000-07:00

I have the baby blues. As in I really think I need to have a baby. Right now would be a very good time for me to have a baby. I mean sure, I'm not married yet. I'm not even sure if I'm at the legal age to have babies. There is one, rite? Legal age for baby production? Anyway, why I said that this is a good time is cos I've been around babies for so long that nowadays when I watch ads with lil babies in em, I get this whole maternal thingy stirring inside. I'm all like awwwwwwwwww..not the normal regular aw cute...this is the drawn out, longing, wistful awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww *sigh*. Sometimes I even tear up. Now this can't be a good thing. And it just means that I need to have a kid. I'm not ready for marriage sure...but kids, i think i can handle it.

Some people have this calling. And all this while I was confused bout what mine is. Now I'm thinking, its most defnitely gotta be sumthin to do with kids. Cos, man I'm seriously good with em. I mean, I used to like kids ok. The regular amount. I even used to tell some people that I dunt like kids cos I didnt wana seem like the girly girl coochie coo baby luver (I'm not. I dunt go all "coochie coo" shit.. I'm all like Sup Baybeh!) I've been babysitting ever since I was 13 or so. Its just recently that people has been tellin me Im sooo good with babies. And thats when I realise I shud test these super powers of mine. Every new baby is a challenge. People think its easy to win over a baby. Trust me, its no easier than winning over a pretty girl. (but yeah its almost as easy as getting a guy to think ur interested)

So nowadays, every baby I see, its like I just haave to make em like me. I'm like the baby playa. But i don't play with their feelings and not call them after I say I will. Or atleast I try not to do dat. Once, I'm pretty sure where I stand with my baby skills, maybe I'll think of doing something with it.

When I paint or draw or read n stuff, sure it makes me happy. But when I'm with a baby, and that first smile it flashes at you as a sign of "ok-ur-in", man...that smile can just turn your heart into pulp. Thats like a whole different level of happy.

When people think bout babies, the only thing they talk bout it dirty diapers...and sleepless nights. I mean c'mon..there is soo much more to babies than that. People who has never really dealt with babies won't really know this cos they rely on 2ndory info and hear just bout the 6 kilo diapers and 6am feeding time. They don't hear bout the smile that I told u bout earlier, or the warmth u feel inside n out when they fall asleep on ur chest, or the pride you feel when they choose to run into ur arms when they're scared, or bout how hard you laughed wen they make that funny face wen they poop, or how you heart breaks when their smiles crumble into tears when you wave goodbye......

...

.....

Okay so i got a lil too senti there... I told u, the whole maternal thingy is getting to me.

So, basically what I'm tryin to say is...well I'm not sure. I just wana dedicate this post to my niece n nephew...my number one babies...miss u guys soo soo much. Now I actually get what Saif Ali Khan was talkin bout in that ad when he said "I miss u so much..it hurts!"

oh and mwah mwah to all the other lil babies out there... Sup Baybehz!

Are The Fine Arts Edging Towards An End In India?

2009-07-26T00:10:00.000-07:00

In the wake of commercialization, fine arts is being edged out by professional courses .Increasing number of people have begun abandoning their passions for the arts in order to pursue careers in professional fields. Despite having over 190 institutions across India which caters to the fine arts (which includes not just painting and sculpture but also performing arts like drama, music and dance), the future M.F.Hussains and Ravi Shankars are now found inside operation theaters or at construction sites or spending sleepless nights in front of a computer screen, frittering away their God-given talents.

Today the average fee for professional course like medicine or engineering comes up to 4.5 lakhs approximately, whereas the fees demanded by a specialized course in fine arts may begin at Rs.50,000 per annum. For an individual aspiring for a career in the field of fine arts, the issue of income may prove problematic because mere talent, perseverance and dedication is no longer sufficient to ascertain a comfortable lifestyle. Factors like luck, contacts and the right break at the right time plays an important role when it comes to securing a steady future as an artiste. In the present times, where an IT professional is given a firm assurance of an income higher than that of an arts-related person, demand for these jobs are reducing considerably.

Even parents discourage their children from considering the possibility of a career in the fine arts field inspite of having pushed them into taking up painting, music or dance as a co-curricular activity throughout their school life. The fear of being cast as a social stigma attributes for this indifference. Noone is ready to attempt anything that will jeopardize the society’s opinion about them.

Unlike those residing abroad who thrive on creativity, here in India, right from he beginning, we are taught how to memorize not how to create. Only a very minimal number of schools have included any of the traditional arts under its normal curriculum. But what about all those students who graduate from the numerous colleges that specialize in fine arts? What has happened to those who aspire to be artists, sculptors, dancers, musicians and craftsmen? They evolve into graphic designers, photographers, animators, choreographers and sound engineers. Technology is the key word here. Traditional arts are being side-lined by its modern technology-driven forms. The emergence of reality singing and dance shows provide an opportunity for amateur singers or dancers to jump right into stardom, skipping the various levels of training in between that most of the veterans in the field have undergone.

Reforms must be taken for the rejuvenation of fine arts as a traditional if not a professional art form. However the positive side of relegating fine arts to sidelines is that in today’s age where everyone is thriving towards a technologically-rich tomorrow, the contributions by the fine arts to make the world more techno-savvy or futuristic is considerably meager. It can still be adopted as a soul soother amidst the dreary routine of the working class today. Hopefully in future, there will emerge a job which is related to fine arts that will arouse as much or even more demand as that of an IT-based job today.

How is This for Inspiration?

The world’s most expensive painting sold to date, Jackson Pollock’s “No. 5 1948” was claimed to have fetched about $150 million (Rs. 5,600,000,000 approx.)

Brancusi's "Bird in Space",the world’s most expensive sculpture was sold for an amount of $27.45 million (Rs. 978,000,000 approx.), plus buyer's premium.

Kathak performing artist-teacher-choreographer Anjani Ambegaokar.was the first Indian dancer to be honored with the National Heritage Fellowship by the National Endowment for the Arts in Washington D.C.,which is the the nation’s highest honor in the folk and traditional arts, which includes a one-time award of $20,000 (Rs.800,000).

Courses catering to Fine Arts

Dance and Music

BA & MA Dance
BFA & MFA Dance
Course in Khatak & Bharathnatyam
BA & MA Music
BA Tabla & Sitar

Painting and Sculpting

BFA & MFA Painting
MFA Painting
BA & BFA Sculptor
Diploma in Sculptor

I wrote this a few years back for an online mag.Never got published. Worked on it for like weeks. Came across it tday. can't believe I wrote all that. So damn serious and stuffy. Hmm.. so this is the other side of me. Nah not really. Dunno how i pulled this one off.
So here is my first Informative post.Don't fall asleep in the middle.

The Mighty Giants

2009-07-20T07:58:00.000-07:00

Ok this is a decades old story that got forgotten with time...

Long long ago, when the earth was a lot more simpler, there used to be these giants who lived in caves.They hardly ever came outta these caves. So like one fine day, the humans invented the railway system. And this..for sum reason or the other, pissed off the fire demons. So in protest, they set all the railway stations and trains on fire. The humans were devaasted. Cos this was like a massive fire..like the great London Fire. And..and to make it worse..this was during a drought. So like they could'nt put it out even if they wanted to. So this one lil genious guy came up with a plan. And so a whole bunch of the humans went up to the giants sleeping in the caves, and pleaded to them to help them. It took a lil persuading, but finally the giants agreed to help out. So out they came and rushed towards the stations. They took in the situation. And then the great heros unzipped their pants and peed all over the stations and trains, thus saving us our biggest mode of transportation. So this is why, everytime you are in a train or a station, u are enveloped with the nauseating smell of urine. The smell of their heroic deed decades ago. The end.

I thought this up in the train last week wen i was trying to stuff a hanky up my nose.

When death comes calling..

2009-07-01T02:53:00.000-07:00

I was listening to the radio the other day and there was this thing where the RJ asked ppl to call in and answer this question - "If, hypothetically today was your last day alive, what would you do?"

And soo many ppl called up with such lame answers..

One guy stated the obvious and talked bout the whole family n friends thing..which totally turned off the RJ who was lukin for more innovative answers..Which totally got me thinking...HMMMM..

If today was my last day alive, ok no wait, gimmi a month..if this was my lastest month, I would..

Well firstly, I would freak..N then i would call everyone and inform them and gain a lottttttta sympathy...and hopefully freebies.Yay!

I'd watch all the movies where the hero/ione dies in the end and memorize all the classy dialogues and use it myself.

I would print out all my blog posts and send it to a publishing house n publish my book. Well, I did have sumthin a lil different in mind for my first book, but then heck, I'm not gonna spend my last month writing! I dunt wanna go upto heaven n be known as the girl who knocked off while Writing..That would sooo put me in the geek category. Speaking of which, thats another thing I'd do. I'd plan my death. Like say I'm gona die on Monday 4pm, I'd just go ahead and kill myself on Monday 3.59pm...in my own style. As in, I don't wana die in a boring old way, like in my sleep or something. If I know bout my forecoming death, I mite as well plan it..like we do with weddings n stuff. N do it in such a way that I get into the papers! Like skateboard off a skyscraper..no that would actually require me to know how to skateboard...no time for that.. orrr put myself in the washing machine (atleast, I'd die clean) or have a famous person strangle me orr oooh I could watch movies like Final Destination or sumthing for ideas. They have some awesome techniques. Gruesome, but reeaally cool.

And I really would'nt want to die in anyone's house. I feel that then when I come back as a ghost, I'd be like restricted within those boundaries.. which would b a huggge bummer..cos I've got a lottttta after-death plans. :-) But lets not go there now..

I would most defnitely wana fly to NYC, where I've wanted to go since forever. I would wanna eat an entire cheesecake..not a Dhs.10 slice...the whole deal.. I would'nt wana get drunk. I d rather remember every last minute of my last month.

I'd get a tattoo, maybe a lil goodbye note to my friends and family... a belly ring, actually no, chuck those two...my death mite be painful, so I probably shud'nt have to endure any sorta pain before the big event. Mayb I'll get a stick-on tattoo..

During the last week, I would first find every girl/guy I've hated and tell them why, how and how much. They say you shud tell the people u luv how much u luv em, before u die. Well, I figured, atleast those ppl have sum idea bout that, unlike the haters, where most of em have absolutely no clue cos, well, i can do one hellova fake smile. So I say, before u die, let em know, release all the hate, u dunt wana go up there with hate in your heart.

I would then like to wear a wig with long red hair and run on the street/rain wearing mismatched clothes and slap random ppl. I have alwaaaaaaaaayzz wanted to do that. Also to perform on stage. That has been I think my dream since I was a lil kid. But I've never had the chance. And I suck at dancing. Which I discovered yeste. They have those dance classes shows on tv. So i was trying it out and its like I can't multitask when it comes to dancing. I can't make both the hands and legs move together. It such a strain on the brain. So much to remember. bloody hell.

I'd buy myself boots and a dog............ and pass it on to my niece n nephew after i go, so dunt get started on the whole u-cant-take-material-things-to-heaven stuff.

I would blog one last time, I'd do this a lil early so that I can read all the comments before I go. But u really don't have to wait for me to put up my last dying blog post to start commenting, u know.

I'd maybe even reveal deep dark secrets up here. No point taking em to my grave.. I'm already taking my boots...uh i mean...maybe I could give my niece something else? I really don't think she is a boot-person.

So thats its.. There are probably a few other bazillion things too.. ooh n u know wat, in an attempt to reduce air, water n land pollution, I would not want my body to be burnt, drownt or buried. I would want it to be put up in space. Like sorta just floating along with the meteors n stuff. N the astronaut people would have something to welcome them there..like a receptionist or sumthin..or an air-hostess..literally!ha!

So thats really it. So I'm gonna go wait for that ol' reaper guy to come callin.. Until then, live it,king size!

Job vs Marriage vs Ostrich Theory

2009-06-13T12:58:00.000-07:00

You know, I just realised a lil earlier today that I'm turning 24 this year. 24! Thats like well a grown-up's age. I remember being a kid and having uncles who are 24. Shucks! I'm an uncle! Well, no an aunt technically. Actually no I became an aunt when i was...ok even before i was born. My cousins got kids older than me. Ok but why am I explaining this? What was I saying? Oh yeah, I'm like all old now! If u go back a few posts in my blog u'll see one bout why being 21 sucks. Now this is like 3 years later. And I actually had to count from 21 to 24 to see how many years. Ugh, old age sucks!

So this is probably the age around when most of my uncles n aunts got jobs and stuff. And I'm supposed to go out and get meself one of those things. A job. Me. Working.

Its not like I've never thought of it. I've thought of it a lot. I've always seen myself as this successful career woman who wears her hair in a bun (straighten hair) and wears grey suits and pencil skirts and stockings and heels, swinging a briefcase. Oooh and square glasses. And a cappachino in hand. Okay, so maybe I just had the outfit all planned out, not my life.

And I had this vision where I would drive up into my old school/college in my Audi, and all the other girls who were mean to me or smarter than me or prettier than me or just plain made my life miserable back then would be fat housewives with screaming brats (no offence to housewives here).

But you know what? I don't think thats happening. Cos I'm probably gonna get into being a fat housewife even before I get a job. Ha!

Yeah,my great big career-woman dreams down the drain. But you know what? The big working life sounds awesome but scares me shitless. I mean, Working...is so much different from Studying. You can always scrape thru somehow in the end in case of education. You kinda know what your getting into. Cos you've been doing just that for so many years. But work. I know nothing bout it! And I have to do it alone! No mommy and daddy to pull you outta crap. No friends to shoulder the blame or let you sneak a peek at their answers.

A coupla months ago, I thought I wanted to get married. I was like Hey! That sounds like fun! Maybe I should give that a shot!

But that was before, I started THINKING straight. And now everyone is all worked up about it and I'm like What Have I Started! I'm not ready to get married!! I mite be 24 but my mind is stuck at 4! Marriage is scarier than work! Its permanent! And you can always quit a job. But marriage..yeah well i guess you could technically quit..but not in my family..any talk of quitting, they send you for counselling.

So I've been walking around like a wet dog a lot recently and people have been asking me why. So now you know. I hate this point I'm at right now. I would give anything to go back just a coupla years and when it comes back to this point again, rewind again (No not back to high school. I can't put myself thru that torture again.Yeesh!)

So maybe I hate change. Maybe I can't adapt to it. Maybe I can't take risks. Atleast on my own. Maybe I should do what the ostriches do. The Ostrich Theory. Stick my head in a hole on the ground until danger passes. Right, so if anybody needs me for anything, you know where I'll be. Waiting, with my head in the mud, for my life to make sense again.

p.s- when I tried to type "job" as a tag for this post, it sorta automatically clicked into "jobless" from a previous post. I tried to turn it into "job" a coupla times but then I realised..uh hello, the damn thing is right. I'm not job...I'm jobLess! Face it! The computer knows better!

I wanna Blabber...

2009-05-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

U know wats the greatest thing bout having a blog?U can talk bout those things that u reeeeeally wanna talk bout n noones got the patience to listen to.Like those things like if ur at a party and u wait n wait n wait for ur turn to say sumthin cos everyone is all speakin at the same time and ur like "Ooh ooh something exaaactly like that happen to me when i was in Italy and..." and sumone goes "Oh god,that new Italian actress is like the ultimate bomb,is'nt she?" and then everyone would rather talk bout the stupid Italian actress..blah.. and no i havent really been to Italy.It was a metaphor!

Or those things u start to say when ur sitting around with ur friends and they go like "NOOOOOOO not again no, we've heard this 50 bagazillion times!!" which is like a tooootal exaggeration, by the way.Sure, i mite have repeated some stories one or two times...or maybe a 20 times...still!

So if i put it down on a blog, then people can just read em, whenever they have the time n patience to read it...or they feel like reading it again...and again!!ok maybe only i read it again n again..but u get my point.Like what if one fine day, I am all famous and rich. N ppl'll be buying strands of my hair on Ebay. Thats when u guys'll really wanna read my blog...This'll be a celebrity blog!Ohh and i would'nt even have to write anything then...I'd either just get my personal secretary to do it for me or I'll just fill it up with pictures of urs truely!! Man, it must b nice being rich n famous...

I've alwayz wanted to be a rich n famous writer. Well the rich n famous bit is a recent addition. But yeah, if I'm gonna b a writer, mite as well be successful,yeah?

I started writing stuff, as is stories and stuff, at a pretty early age.Remember in my previous post i mention how I stapled my hand when I was 5? That was cos I had finished writing my first "book" in a whole buncha papers n wanted to staple it all together so that it looks like a book..Now, I don't remember what I had written in those papers.But i do remember the book part..And the holding the stapler the wrong way part.And the blood n gore afterwards part............

Anywayz....my earliest writing skills were tested on my letters to Dad.He used to work abroad and visited only once in a while.So we tried to keep in touch as much as we could through snail mail.I used to write pretty frequently.And i used to write bout everythin!Not so much bout school,maybe cos I skipped school quite a lot those days, cos Dad was'nt around to keep an eye on me and Mom really could'nt control me.Hmm..its a wonder I actually passed 2nd grade.

Anywayz,I used to write to him bout the dogs, the chickens, the cows, my sisters who left me outta everythin cos I was'nt "old enuff" to play with the big girls, my mom who tortured me with Gigantic glasses of "yucky" milk everyday (she still dus), and my cousin who has 10 zillion Barbies who I'm very very jealous of (I still am..I mean, she had an insane amount of Barbies!Who would'nt b jealous!). My letters used to be long and quite informative.

Well, the letters came to an end when we all moved abroad. But u know wat?Dad and I still wrote letters...later in my teenage years.When we were pretty much at war all the time.We communicated pretty much through slamming doors and notes and letters..And I still have each and every one of those letters.

After the letter stage, I continued writing stories in bits and pieces here and there.That when dad bought me my first journal. To write whateva i wanted.I still remember it. It had a large picture of Minnie Mouse wearing a pink skirt on it! It was like my prized possession. I started off by re-writing classics. My first story was bout the lion and the ant. Then I wrote my version of Cinderella. I remember my sisters laughing uproariously everything they read the word "price" cos appartently thats how I thought "prince" was spelt.

Anywayz, my dad told me I shud write more of my own stuff..as in think and create it outta ur own head..So I thought and wrote a story bout how a girl has a dream and goes to a place where there is unlimited junk food and ice cream and..yeah well junk food..well, I was a young child introduced to the world of junk food just ladat one fine day..all my dreams revolved around junk food at that point of time.

That story was'nt half bad for a start. I wrote more stories. I remember I was in the middle of a story where one of the character's names was Reynold, when one of my uncles borrowed my book to read it. He never returned it. Apparently he lost it. I'm not one for holding grudges..but yeah.. I have never forgiven him..

Later, I discovered the computer...at the age of 9, if i remember right. Back then computers for me was all bout Paint, PacMan and Prince of Persia. Ohh n NotePad...Was addicted to NotePad. Started writing up on the comp and copying them onto my very own Floppy Disk!yes yes, i was high up there then..using Floppies and all.

I remember writing this poem bout Mom n Dad but it was reeeeeally cheesy n I just wrote it in a bid for more allowance or something.

My first horror story was bout a boy eats radioactive blueberries and ends up a cannibal..It got too scary that I couldnt finish it.

I continued writing a lotta stories like dat thru out my school years.Most of em I left infinished.I started one bout a guy who goes back in time..and I was hoping to make it a movie someday.Except I never finished it.Problem is, when i start a story I never know how its going to end up. I just go with the flow. And get stuck. Thats when another idea pops up. And I forget bout this story and pursue the new one.

It was in 6th grade I think I decided to get serious bout writing... All cos of an English teacher. She made us write an essay bout our Favourite movie. And my favourite movie at that point was Dunston Checks In. I'm not sure wat I wrote.It was just half a page. And i just got a 7 on 10 for it. But I will never Ever forget the remark she'd written on it - Keep it up. Your style of writing is truely unique...

Thats the first time someone had said something like that bout my writing. I mean sure, my dad keeps praising it.But then he's my dad.He's supposed to say nice stuff! This was like my first praise from an outsider! Thats when I made the concious decision to take up writing seriously.

After that, I let my friends read a few of my stories. But I was still quite cautious. I never send anything out for competetions or anythin. Until 11th grade, where I sorta involuntarily had to enter a competiton. We could write on anything. N it was around the time the 9/11 took place. So i wrote this 7 page long story based on it and it was all sappy and tragic and tears. I read the whole thing again, tore it up and wrote a 2 page autobiography of a strand of hair. It did'nt win a prize but it sure made the judges laugh..and for me, that was prize enough. :-)

After i got into college, I suddenly didnt have time to write anymore..Or rather,I didn't feel like it anymore. Its like, I can't write when someone is forcing me to write. And in my course, ur supposed to write whether u feel like it or not. Come up with scripts and screenplays and copy and features and stuff just like that. I could'nt do it. The words had to come to me. I could'nt make em come. So throughout college, my writing abilities were restricted to long text messages and an occasional rap song we friends cooked up. I do write poetry sometimes. But they're all based on experience and somehow seems incredibly cheesy wen i read em later, like an over-done sentimental forward msg.

And then this blog happen. So this is my playground again. To write wat I want, how I want, when I want to.

So as I was sayin initially, if i were to say all this in a verbal conversation there is nooo way, I would've gotten so far without being inturrupted.And,yeah,well,I like not bein inturrupted.And also,this way I don't have to pretend I have'nt noticed the painfully bored expressions on ur face, or ur subtle tactics to leave the room.

So that, ladies and gentleman, that, I declare, is the beauty of blogging....

Blabber on, mates!

Just Laddat!

2009-05-21T03:20:00.000-07:00

Ummm..i..m im gona begin writing this post.....as soon as...im dun with...ok i m done..as soon as im done with the last cookie...was on a cookie splurge rite then...u know those times when u eat one cookie and then u can't stop until u stuff the whole packet down your throat...aaahh..such a satisfying feeling..same goes with potato chips..even if ur not hungry..u just have to eat it..i think its like a universal feeling..

a lotta ppl have been reading my blog...and saying nice things bout it...thank u so much 4 dat...but the thing is ..now i can't write!I mean i can't write wat i want...I'm alwayz thinking bout wat shud i write that'll everybody'll like...blah i m goin mad thinking!!
The reason i have'nt posted anythin lately is cos i have nothing to say.Nothing substantial anyway.Or nothing I can write more than a sentence bout.So here r a few things I simply feel like saying...

- I wud rather b sleeping rite now.

- My valentine's day sucked btw.I spend d whole day in bed...no not in the romantic sense...this was the wats-d-point-nothings-gona-happen-this-yr-either-mite-as-well-sleep-all-day sense.
- 3 people said I look pretty tday.

- 2 of em were lying.bludy buggerz.

- I need to stop writing in points..in every post.

- I stapled my hand by accident wen i was 5 yrs old.

- I met a frog named Giordano the other day.We had an interesting conversation. He was quite a good listener I should say.

- the calenders of 1998 n 2009 are d same.

- I make horrible coffee.It alwayz ends up tasting a wee bit salty.Even If I'm nowhere around the salt bottle.

- Sometimes if u stay motionless for a really long time....nothing happens..u just get bored.
- I believe in friday 13th being a cursed day.can't tell u y.

- I've been on a pessimistic streak ever since...1985!

- I was attacked by a chicken when I was 13 yrs old.

- Feb 21st dunt mean anythin to me anymore..

- I worry a lot bout the consequences of the stuff dat I'm too lazy to do.

- I need a new best friend. Preferably a non-human one. No not an invisible one. Got enuff of those.

- I'm ADDICTED to these home shopping programmes!! Esp the dubbed ones! They're so damn hilarious!

- I forgot to brush my teeth on January 16th. Ok, I didn't forget. Just did'nt feel like it. Like my friend says, everythin needs a break...Even ur teeth.

- When ever it rains, most of the time, my first thought is - well thank god I'm not the one paying the water bills up there.

- I wrote n posted a letter tday n it felt GREAT.

- Is it post or posted?

- 2 ppl said dat they luv my blog.they gona change their mind after reading this post.

- IM BRAIN DEAD!

Color ur B'z away!

2009-05-08T08:50:00.000-07:00

I was bored.Oh, so very bored.Bored.Bored.Bored.There comes a time in life when one is soo driven by boredom and frustration that one ends up doing weird stuff..like take off on a world tour..or eat a lotta chocolates..and when i say 'a lot' i mean an insane amount...Me, I can't afford a world tour or an insane amount of choc..so i go the subtle way and paint my room.

Ok when u think up that idea in ur head it sounds simple enuff..paint the wall..everyone dus it..and on tv it alwayz look like so much fun!and the end result is gona b amazing...like in the berger paint ad...

ok, i m not gona tell me if i agree with all that..let ya decide for urself based on this post...

so after i pop the idea..i spend another one week tryin to decide wat exactly i want to put up...i mean its a wall not a piece of paper where u can just tear it up and start a new paintin..i mean sure u cud tear down the wall too and build another one...depending on ur financial positioning. Anyway i gave it sum thought...n a lil more thought and sum more and one day just went ahead and started on an idea which i had thought of for some 5 mins..

The starting phase is good...you think u know what ur doin..if ur wall is as old as mine u end with an allergy....so ur sketchin out a broadoutline..wish i had a pick of the broad outline but then i'd rather not show u cos if u tell me its better than the finished thing then i'll have to kill myself...

so day one is spend on broad outline..

day two is when u figure out ur colours...I'm not much of a painter..I'm more of a charcoal person..and my colour sense is just dreadful...so this was by far the most difficult stage..Since the purpose of this operation is to brighten up my room, i decide to go for LOUD colours..and thus..

ok so maybe that does'nt look LOUD, i thought...a very bad thought. I had'nt made use of any actual paint as yet..so i pull out all my sister's old art supplies and come aross and also unused buncha paint..the gooey ones.So two days after that..I get crackin..just like in the movies!!

ok and fiiiiiinally...after say 3 or so hours of hard work, sweating and sweating and more sweating......

kindly ignore the faint scribblings on the background..That wat happens wen u think u got a great idea but turns out to b a not so great idea..ok i would have rather it looked like this one below...

Now that...that is more like a very painter person sorta picture..that..is also a photoshopped version of my real wall.. :-(

so thats it...that was how my work of art ended up lookin like..I'll probably not be sleepin in that room for a long time now..cos the more i look at it, the more i hate it..but then thats me..It's not great, but i had fun...and it was better than doin wat i usually do to kill time...stand on my head to see if my feet gets any paler due to the reduction of blood..

so if this post has inspired u to get crackin on ur wall too...go ahead..its kinda fun too actually...

Skinny...and damn proud of it!

2009-04-07T11:30:00.000-07:00

"Omg you are sooo thin"

How...I..detest...those...words..... U ever get those fwd emails bout the ten most stupid questions ppl ask n all?this is kinda like that.Like people think i would'nt have noticed the way my body looks unless they tell me.Also applies on zits day. "Omg u have a pimple!"- transalation " Ew ew ew..notice how nice n clean my face is..go ahead..notice it!!" I mean c'mon its my goddamn face..and its not a great one but its the only one i have..so i do look at it every once in a while..and when there is a MONSTER zit right at the tip of my nose, ur not the only one who can't stop lookin at it.

Ok coming back to the thin thing..WHAT ON EARTH IS EVERYONE'S PROBLEM?? if a person is overweight, they don't go "Omg ur so fat!"...well atleast not on the first meeting..cos thats just...so wrong. But people don't find anythin wrong bout telling me I'm soooooooo thin.Am i supposed to take it like a compliment?Then say it like a compliment,dammit!Don't have the whole "can-i-take-u-home-with-me-and-feed-you" look in ur eyes. I don't need that. I repeat I DO NOT need that..

It different with guys and girls...I mite be having a serious convo bout somthing with a guy and he'll have this "not listening" look on his face..no not the default one.the forced one.So I'll be like "what?" and he'll be like.."shit,man, u r so THIN!". He says it like that.Like he could'nt have waited till i finished what I was talking bout.Ugh!

Sometimes when a guy holds ur hand all romantically n stuff and ur expecting him to be sprouting poetry soon, he goes "omg look at that KILLER vein on ur hand" and proceeds to see how many "killer" veins he can count on my hands and begs me to make em dance..the veins.(a lil trick i learnt from my skinny uncle). On certain days, you get all dressed up hoping somebodies will notice and they go "10 more kilos and you'll look really good!" Brainless piece of shytes.

Girls love to ask me - "Why are you so thin?" ok Why am i thin?You think if i knew that I'd still look like a stick figure? I have no goddamn idea,man! You expect me to say I'm recovering from some big-time illness?You want me to say I was trying out an experiment on aneroxia on myself? You want me to say my late great-aunt left me a wardrobe full of size 0 clothes?You want me to say I have a skinny family so I'm just trying to fit in?You want me to say I'm on a bloody reality show where they see who loses the most weight and dies the fastest???I mean wtf!!

And if I'm not hungry on any given day and I say no to a biscuit, they're all like "Ohhh, dieting huh?" with a smirk that means "hmph,big time city girl,eh?dieting-vieting n all?" For god's sake..do i LOOK like i need to be dieting??And wat do you think I'm dieting for?To reduce myself into nothingness?I'M ALREADY ALMOST THERE!!

The worst is at functions or weddings - aunties and uncles talk to me for ages about how I am so unacceptably thin and how I will not get married if I continue to look like this!There is even one far-relative whose asked me if I'm suffering from some disease. I sooooo badly wanted to say that I had a rare case of stomach-o-phobia were my stomach had to be removed and they have'nt found a replacement yet. Did'nt. Dad would've permanently removed the chip on my shoulder if i had.

Ok so people...the bottom line is...I do not care bout the fact that I'm overly thin. Its not something I can help. Even if I could help it, I do not care. So please, kindly..STOP NAGGING ME BOUT IT! You're not my mum..and even my mum does'nt nag me bout it.

The day I am all big and pregnant, I will post a pic of myself on here and write underneath it "THERE,ARE YOU ALL HAPPY NOW?" Until then...bear with me please?

Rainy Memories

2009-03-26T00:59:00.000-07:00

I was having a miserable day the other day, travelling in a rickety bus from home to college, sweating like a pig...U know the whole thing bout how horses pespire, men sweat n women glow? That, my dear ladies n gentleman, is utter crap..unless i've got horse genes in me.It like a bloody dam exploded on top of my head..it's not a pretty sight i tell u..and not just on the top of my head...on the weirdest, unmentionable places too...its all trickle trickle trickle..

So anyway..I'm sitting there, miserable over having gone to all the trouble to take 2 hour bath to be back to my stinking self in just 10 mins..and suddenly..Heaven smiles at me..The piercing sun rays sorta withdraws abruptly like a girl who remembers she has'nt waxed her legs n draws em underneath her long skirt..There is a clap of thunder and then bliss...just pure bliss.. ok i admit, I'm a rain-a-holic...can't help it...some of the bestestest memories in my life have been made when the skies were crying...

I remember bein 5 or 6 years old and me and my sisters running outside the house as soon as the rains start, pausing at the door only a second to take in the heavenly smell of fresh wet ground...My mum and dad had pulled up chairs to sit at the doorway n watch us play...My dad never really forbade us from playing in the rain..

I dunno why i remember this..I sorta remember it in black n white..like an old photo from an album..its a good photo..

Whenever our cousins get together for the hols during the rainy season..we have atleast one rain dance session..So all the kids ranging from age 20-24 to 5-6 would be dancing around for all we're worth, drenched to the core until the mothers put an end to it...

An uncle once told me if i try hard enough, i can walk between the rain drops n not get wet at all...I spend half my childhood tryin to achieve that..ok ok so maybe I still do.. :-)

I experienced a hail storm for the first time in 4rth grade..But I was petrified...I missed pretty much the whole thing as I was crouched under the sofa until it ended. Thought pieces of the sky where falling down.

Another black n white photo moment is when in the 6th or 7th grade and me n my sister were trying to go to sleep in our room.We had this balcony with a huuge glass door.It starts raining and the thunder claps were loud and damn scary..I remember hugging my sister tight, telling her that the world is gonna end and we're all gonna die.Mom n Dad suddenly enters the room and gets into our bed(not sure why, maybe they were scared too)..suddenly it did'nt feel like the world was gonna end...suddenly the fierce lightning looked mesmirizing.We fell asleep together, watching the dancing lights..

10th grade- lunch break.We go out to the playground n see the kindergarten kids obediently standing underneath the foyer watching the rain.We're like "what the..." and barge outside and jump into every possible puddle.The lil kids laugh at first and then slowly one by one, they follow our lead.Their moms would probably have killed us if they had known we were responsibly for any cold/cough/fever their lil tyke manages to catch, but we were'nt about let them waste their childhood standing underneath the foyer.

I remember that my 12th board exams began on a rainy day...My classmates n I were on a bus going to the exam centre...One girl looks out of the window and says -" Hmm it's raining..Did u know that if you look up at the sky when its raining and say a prayer,whatever u pray for will happen?"

All of us where in the midst of tension and revision, so we just scoffed at her theory..But as soon as we stepped out of the bus, I saw pretty much all the girls, faces directed skyward, eyes shut firmly in concentration, hands clasped together, praying for all they're worth...including me.. :-)

I remember sitting on the rooftop of my grandma's house on a rainy day, crying over a fight with a friend and at the same time, pretending to read a book.

I remember seeing, for the first time (i'm not an avid watcher of Animal Planet) two dogs...um...gettin it on... on a rainy day. And calling them shameless creatures.. "I mean seriously, get a room!"

1st year of college...The rain is falling rite in through the huge window.. the veranda in our hostel room is flooded...As in the floors were getting wet but we treat it like a national disaster..."My books are gettin soaked! Save my books!" " Forget her books, get the food outta there!!" We spend all afternoon saving our precious possessions.

2nd year in college...Its nite time..Its raining pretty bad.My roommates and I fill our coffee mugs with ice cold sickly sweet ice tea and sneak into the forbidden terrace.Sitting in the pouring rain, we chat and drink our tea as if we're totally oblivious to the storm around us.One of us start dancing and pretty soon we're all dancing.One of us suddenly lies down flat on the floor.We follow.If u have'nt tried this, I'm tellin u pleaaaase do..Its like one of the most amazing feelings ever...can't even start to explain it..

I remember making a pact with a friend.We promised to think of each other whenever it rains.We'd give each other missed calls whenever it rained.Which was kinda silly cos sometimes it rained like 6 billion times a day....The friend is long gone..so is the friendship..the pact is also forgotten..but..

I met a special someone on a rainy day.

I realise that the special someone is not so special after all on another rainy day.

One day,I decide to move on. And its raining again.

I remember doing our journalism internship during the rainy month...running to various locations to collect stories all in the rain..walking through the highway, vehicles roaring past us, all the time the rain just kept beating down on us..Made it seem all the more filmy!

This is probably my favoritest memory of rain - the eve of my eldest sister's wedding. Its raining bad.Me n my middle sister watch the rain for a while then look at each other, grin and run outside.The place is covered with relatives and guests. Dejected, we go back into the house.

"The terrace!!" and then we run upstairs.The bride-to-be is sitting on her bed looking at her mehendi. She watches as we run into the terrace. I pop a cd in the cd player and pretty soon we're dancing our ass off. My eldest sister is watchin us with longing eyes.We're like "Don't u dare! Its ur wedding tomo..you can't afford to get sick!But we can...nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!"

She holds back for one more sec and then "To hell with it!I'm coming too!" And joins us. So that was it. The three of us..dancing about like idiots..knowing that tomorrow things'll change..responsibilties will come up..we'll turn into wifes and mothers.I dunno if my sisters remember this incident as well as i do.For me, it was this bitter-sweet experience..

Ok i know this post is not like the rest.And it mite even seem boring to some of yall..I wrote this one for me..I don't wanna wake up one day and not remember all this.If i do, I can always read this and go "ohh yeaaaah...i remember now..."

There are many many more incidents like this..some that i cannot put up here..without askin the other people involved in the episode..

So thats my story bout the rain.I've danced in the rain,laughed in the rain, cried in the rain, sang my heart out in the rain, made a billion memories in the rain..

SHHHHH!Don't tell anybody...

2009-02-25T00:14:00.000-08:00

Today in marketing class, our sir was speakin bout Secrets..ok I dunno why he was doing that in marketing class..I would probably have known if i had actually been listening..hmm..so anyway,all of a sudden, he's speaking about secrets..n suddenly he looks at me n goes - "hmm..so do you have a lotta secrets you can't tell anyone?"

Ok how dumb..first of all everyone has secrets..so thats a dumb question to start with.
And secondly..if its a secret then you obviously can't tell anyone..so thats like a redundant sentence...but then when I thought bout it..there are a lotta different kinda secrets..
There are secrets which u can't tell anyone..d kinds you take with you to ur grave..
N there are the kinds u tell just one person...just to see what the reaction'll be.
N if u like the reaction, then there is the third kinda secret..the kind u actually want everyone to know..i mean you'd be telling it to the 14 billionth person but u still start with "ok you're the first n only person who I'm telling this to..."
I dunno if its laddat for everyone...
I think I have more of the 1st kinda secret that d other 2 kinds..ever since i was say 5 years old i think..honestly..
I read this book once called Can u keep a secret? (chick-lit) where this female on an airplane thinks its gonna crash n blurts out all the secrets of her life to the guy sitting next to her.N then the plane does not crash n the guy falls in luv with her n they get married...OH Puh-leez..
Thats like one of my favourite books ever..but that situation is like soooooo not possible..
If i were in the same condition - first of all..I never get to sit next to anyone even remotely good-lookin or the "fall-in-love" with kinda ppl...It alwayz drunk middle-age men who has to get up to pee 6 bazilliiiooon times or old women or lil babies or nobody...
Ok so say some decent guy did actually sit down next to me n I did blurt out all the deep dark secrets of my life, the last thing he'd do is fall in love with me...he'd probably get so disturbed (thats as subtly as i can put it) he'd probably push me outta the plane before it can crash...
I mean why is a secret a secret?
because you don't want other people to know bout it.Because you might get into trouble if they find out.Or you might hurt someone's feelings if they find out.Basically other people's perception bout you is just gonna be a whole lot different once they find out everything bout u,right? So all those people who goes around saying.. "I don't care wat people think bout me..I am the way I am"...don't have any secrets?? from anyone? hmm I dunno..Maybe they don't.I'm just speakin based on my narrow frame of mind..
Oh then there is also the kinda secret that u think noone knows but then everyone knows but then wen u figure out everyone knows u just sorta don't say anything bout it so that everyone can just keep pretending noone knowz anything...ok..blah..scratch that..too compli..
Ok so those of ya'll who read so far thinking I'm gonna reveal some big-time historical secret bout me..HA!I don't even have the cool kinda secrets anyway..If I were to reveal some secret, I wish i had full-on
dish-kyaao kinda secrets..like..
I practice black magic on Fridays 12am to 3am .. or It was me who set our apartment on fire on Jan 6th,1999...or stuff laddat..
But sadly enough...ok who am i kidding..I've got looooadsaaa dish-kyaao, dish-um and dhink-chak secrets....which ur never gonna find out!!bahahahhahah! :-P

To Be or Not To Be Do Be Dooooo!!

2009-01-01T12:31:00.000-08:00

I've crossed the invisible line that marks adulthood ages ago..But i can't help it..

- ..if i still wake up on weekends with a smile on my face, thankful that I don't have to go to school.

- ..if i stop paying attention to what the older crowd is talking bout and unknowingly tune into news bout the mean ol' science teacher or the day someone wore the wrong shoes on games day.

- ..if I blow spit bubbles every once in a while.

- ..if I spend more than 30 minutes trying to get to the last bit of Nutella in the jar.

- ..if I still wanna put on sparkly Hello Kitty hairclips.

- ..if I wanna do the tight-rope walk on the edge of the pavement.

- ..if my ears pick up any mention of 17-year old sons of family friends before i realise I'm not 14 anymore..or perv-y.

- ..if i still consider Winnie the Pooh bedspreads.

- ..if my fingers still freezes over the remote while flipping across channels and I come across Tom and Jerry.

- ..if i still giggle over Bugs Bunny.

- ..if I'm addicted to Disney Channel or Cartoon Network.

- ..if I sing "U get d bessssssssssst of both wooooorldsss..." in the shower.

- ..if balloons cheer me up.

- ..if i race to get to the best swing when we go to a park.

-..if i grumble at having to giving up the best swing to an actual kid. :(

-..if the beach means three things to me - water, seashells and sand castles!!!

- ..if i know the names of all of the seven dwarfs.

- ..if i like to stick my head out the window outta a moving car.

- ..if i'd rather use a pencil and an eraser than MS Word.

- ..if i have the wrappers of every Quality Street I've eaten tucked away in a suitcase.

-..if i still grab my dad's hand before crossing the road.

-..if i still do "5 times..." in my head before telling time.

-..if i have a slap on PowerPuff Girls tattoo on my arm on certain days.

-..if i suddenly feel like going to sleep under the bed.

- ..if i still gloat over the fact that I was the best "jump-rope jumper" in my whole building.

-..if i break into a dance in the middle of the sitting room at 4am in the morning.

-..if i wanna forget bout being an adult for a lil while..

can u? :-)

Bonkers bout B'day!

2008-11-12T05:40:00.001-08:00

So its my birthday again in like a coupla days...oh i dunno like in 5 days...that is like 120 hours...ok ok so i get really psyched bout my birthday..I can't help it!!No matter how old I get, I think I'll still get up extra early on my birthday cos I'd be just too excited to sleep, take an extra long bath, put on a newww dress which I had probaly been tryin on every night the week before, get all dressed up and go out expecting the whoooole world to be out there ready to suprise the hell outta ya.But that does'nt usually happen.Okay it has happen like never...But that would'nt dampen my spirits on my special day..I'd just sit and wait for people to call me over the phone and make a lil list of people who call me.And another smaller list of people who don't...whose birthdays will be permanently removed from my calendar.
For my birthday I want the works... cake, presents, balloons (yes,I'm not joking), umm..maybe a lil booze..thats probably the only thing that has changed over the years...
I don't know why people get depressed over the fact that you turn a whole year older...I mean,I'm turning 23.thats like...such a lil number...I mean I think they teach you to count as high as 23 on the very 2nd day of kindergarten.Got sooooo many more years to go...
I hate the day after the big day..I get this hollow feeling..there is nothing more to look forward to..atleast for another year.
Anywayz, I decided I want a suprise party this year...I've organized the whole thing.All i gotta do now is get there and act suprised...And to all those people who've been bugging me bout wat they shud get me for my birthday here is my list :

~ PlayStation 3
~ a bicycle
~ Money to straighten my hair again
~ a hair iron!
~ white pants
~ sandalz
~ buttons
~ an eyebrow plucker
~ money for my birthday treat
~ a puppy + a person to look after it..cos i really dunt have the time
~ a hairbrush
~ stuff I can't mention here
~ a hrithik roshan cut-out
~ hrithik roshan
~ a pony
~ a ride to college and back...cos walking to n from college will be what I die of eventually
~ a bucket of unsalted water
~ a cure for my week old cold
~ a book on how to avoid writing stupid posts on ur blog n then regretting it
~ a better sense of humor
~ a life...atleast a lil less pathetic one
~ lots n lots of comments :-)

...okay wat was this list bout anyway???

Anger Management

2008-10-29T02:34:00.000-07:00

I get angry way too fast.For the silliest of things.Its been something I ve been tryin to control for waaayy too long...The only thing that has changed is the way I deal with it.

When i was little, I get angry or throw a tantrum, I usually resort to lying on the floor and curling myself up to form a tiny lil egg shape form...It was like a snail shell technique.Either that or hiding under the bed.Oh i loved that place.While most kids were scared of bogeymen under the bed, I think i spend bout 70% of my childhood under the bed.I slept there, ate meals there, did my homework there or just bitched bout life with my invisible buddies.

When i grew a lil older,I started to scribble on books or just tear up bits of papers.That didnt go too well cos it made me feel real psycho-ish and I ended up tearing a lot of my sister's study stuff..So she wasn't too happy bout that too.

Later I moved on to door slamming or just throwing stuff around.Door slamming I inherited from my dad.Throwing things around didn't work too well either cos i had to clean up the mess at the end by myself.

Then came the phase of heavy metal and crazy rock.Nothing like music to soothe ur agonies.Just feeling the furniture vibrate with the heavy bass used to make my heart beat faster.Singing along with it gives ya a whole different kinda high.

Then came the most effective therapy of all...writing.I had this lil anger journal which is gonna be one of the main reasons why I'm gonna end up in Hell.People write a lotta lousy stuff when they're pissed off.The only thing to remember here is to either burn the damn thing when your done with it or to make sure noone never ever gets even a glimpse through it.Writing sometimes just fueled my anger rather than supress it.Re-reading what I'd written just helped me remember even more clearly why exactly I'm angry.

So currently, these are the stuff I do to help control my anger or even depression.And I think its worked the best of all -

1) get drunk

2) if u can't afford that, get high on chocolate.Forget bout calories.This one is defn worth it.

3) (a)Call up a friend who could'nt care less bout ur problem but will crack u up.When I'm depressed I'm not looking for someone to talk to bout it.I'm looking for someone to help me forget bout it.(b) Call up everyone on ur phone list.At least one of them is bound to make u feel glad u exist.

4) T.V. 10 continous seasons of F.R.I.E.N.D.S is not gonna leave much space up there to be thinking bout any silly ol problem.

5) Dance. You do not have to be a trained dancer for this one.Nor do u have to have any sense of rhythm or whateva.Just move the way u want to.And I'd close the curtains if I were u.

6)Shop till you drop. Be nice to urself even if noone else is.Pamper yourself.

7) Go home. This applies only if u've got problems with your friends,work,college or boys.At that point knowing that u've alwayz got family to fall back on is suuuuch a relief.I come home and one look at my niece's or nephew's face and all tha anger and hurt sorta just uncoils itself and crawls outta me.Sounds lame I know but its a fact.Ur lucky if u've got kids of ur own.Personalized depression pills.or atleast thats wat I think.

8) Write in your blog bout stuff u do wen ur angry and pretend people actually give a damn. :-)

The making of me!

2008-09-21T12:01:00.001-07:00

During most of my teenage years, I used to be a boy...wait..no not an actual boy.A wannabe..I wouldnt say a tomboy...maybe an extremely shy tomboy..wore over sized shirts,baggy jeans n boots.Had huuge geeky glasses that covered almost all of my face.Oh,in fact few girls in school used to call me Dilton.You know,the guy from Archies comics.The resemblence was purely physical.Unlike Dilt,I was pretty dumb.Not clueless like right now.Just plain dumb.
Got my hair cut at a men's salon.Was once forbidden from entering the women's restroom..but lets not talk bout that traumatic incident.I used to be disgusted by girls.Ok,not all girls..only the ones that I didn't have a crush on...yes I was at the point of questioning my sexuality.well not really.I hadn't even figured that I even had a sexuality then.

Ok so there I was...roughing it like a true-blue boy even after puberty strikes, growing manlier by the day.I think I mite've even sprout a mush soon if it weren't for THAT boy...The boy who is the reason why I am the girl I am today.The boy who made me wanna be,feel and look like a woman.
Ok honestly I don't even remember his name.He was this guy who happen to be in one of the self and personality n what-not development classes my dad always send me to.I remember he had green eyes...or they might've been brown..or grey..ok basically,he had amazing looking eyes.He hardly ever spoke to anyone.The silent strong types..I think he had a bicycle too..
So anyway..these classes were only 4 days long..and i guess the first two days were spend tryin to figure out how i feel bout this guy.I remember this one girl mention to someone that she thought that that guy was cute...and i hated that girl from that day forth.So maybe thats when i stopped trying to figure things out.
My dress sense started changing.First two days, I rolled in wearing cargos and sweatshirts.Third day...since I didnt own anythin feminine to wear at that stage,for some strange reason thought that dungarees(i think they're still called dungarees.) would make me look girl-ish..It made me look ET-ish according to that girl who seemed to be working towards a permanent spot in my hate-list pretty quickly.
The last day was when we have to do the final speech before like the whole world...ok so maybe just the other students and their folks,not the whole world.But it was a big deal-day for all of us....aaand it was my laaaast chance to create an impression with that guy.So I go shopping for girl clothes..and I tell my folks that its because I wanna look good for the big deal-day.I still remember exactly what I picked out that day.A teal colored turtle-neck n black capri pants with a lil rose embroidered at the hip...and girly sandals!My mom almost fainted.I think my dad had tears in his eyes when he saw me.He was either thinking - "Oh my god,She's discovered she's a girl!" or "Oh my god, she's gonna discover my credit cards soon" (I spend almost all my "boy" years buying only CDs, books or junk food.Sue me, Oh shopping Gods, for wasting precious shopping years!)Tried to make my hair look as girl-like as possible.Think I put on head-band and all..Not sure.All for a guy......I did mention that I was DUMB during those years,didn't I?

Ok the conclusion of this story is pretty lame.He didn't even notice.Nothing earth-shattering happen.Or almost nothing earth-shattering.There was of course...the Moment.It happen when that mean girl was asking some friend of hers what was that one mistake they would never commit.Her friend said - I'll never fall in love.Fall in love.Love.That was the exact moment that our eyes met.Mine n Mr.Pretty-Eyes's.Exactly when that other girl uttered those three words.Fall In Love.It might've been just a coincidence.But I like to look at it at a more filmy aspect.I'd like to think that at that moment our fate was sealed.Our destinies met.We had found each other....
Well not really.The night ended pretty soon.Our speeches sucked.We all went back home and I never saw him again.I mourned him for like a week and then plunged into the new and exciting (not quite exciting anymore) world of BOYS!!

And from then on, the saga went on.The hair was grown out and styled and streaked and straigtened and what-not.Make up was tried,tested and soon a part of life.Clothes grew a LOT less baggier.The sleeves were rolled down and the boots were stowed... The woman had arrived.
I'd like to dedicate this post to that guy.I thank u with a whole of my heart for bringing out the "right" side of me and turning me into who I am today.I mean physically atleast.You were truely...my first love!

2008-08-25T12:11:00.000-07:00

Marriage?Me?Now?.....Really??

2008-08-20T12:33:00.000-07:00

There comes a time in life when thoughts of marriage,a husband,kids,settling down..looking after a family.. is supposed to sort of enter your mind..float about a bit n then finally rest firmly making u want all those things.Now when exactly do u know if its the right time for the floating to stop and the resting to start?
I personally have got nothing against marriage..My friends freak out at the mere mention of it.Somehow i think of it as yet another new thing that i get into without thinking twice bout it and probably end up regretting it.But then thats how pretty much everything else have been so far.So how can this be different?
What i've seen of married people's lives..well its not alwayz rosy i know.And i probably would'nt be able to handle it..but still..i think i wana get married more outta mere curiousity than anythin else.its like..have u ever like really badly wanted a dog..even though u know how difficult it is to take care of it n feed it n stuff?And then when u finally get your dog..the chances r a)it bites u..and u hate it.. and u realised how u shud've listened to everyone or b)it pisses on u and gets on ur nerves and u realise how u shud've listened to everyone ,but u still learn to love it...or whateva(except wen it pees on u)
i mean absolutely no offence to husbands around the world..just this is how i have it worked out in my head...
Apparently,half my classmates from school are already married, half married(engaged) or have kids (dunt even go there!).I don't have a problem with this.I'm actually even a lil proud that I'm still the single chick seeking higher worldy wisdom..(uh yeah rite) But seriously, there is this thing bout being the one of the few unmarried ones.There are so many things i wanna do before i get married.I was checking out this friend's album on facebook.I hardly talk to her but i luv snooping bout her albums checking out what she's up to now... no i'm not a web stalker...though it seems like i am.though i've alwayz thought the idea of having a stalker would b kinda cool.I mean imagine..someone thaaat obsessed wit lil ol' me...*sigh* i dunt even have a stalker...um anywayz..bout that girl..
She's got this fast wild crazy lifestyle...Part of me badly wants that kinda life.to have fun.the CRAAAAAAZZZYY way..part of me knows i probably would'nt be able to handle that sorta life is happy with the tame life that i lead now.I forgot why i mentioned this now.maybe to make the point that..although i'm not one of those "cool" single people livin' d big life...i'm still single n thats good enuff.n mayb cool in a mediocre sense. ;-)
So everyone is kinda goin crazy tryin to get me all married..and i'm not too worried bout it cos i know its gona take me a loooong looong time to find the rite guy..probably rite up to the point where people just stop expecting me to marry.
And the deal with arranged marriages is crazy.I'm through lookin for love...not sayin i dunt believe in true love and destiny n all.Sure,i'm sure the ONE for me is out there.Probably won't find him this time.Cos I've looked this long.N if he doesnt wanna show up now also then its his problem.He's the one whose missing out.you here that??You can just keep hiding out there whereva..cos i dunt give a damn.I'VE STOP LOOKING!!LOSER!ok so maybe its just me whose the sore loser.
I can settle for the not-really-d-one-but-not-too-bad-looking ONE too.
Apart from goodlooking, I 'd really like the dude to be one hell of a responsible guy.do boring stuff like..go to the bank,do paperwork,get my visa renewed n stuff that are really important but really boring and i really would'nt wana be bothered with.I can do stuff like take the dog for a walk, get the grocery (just go by mum's list), water the garden..no cancel that..too boring..cant handle a garden n worms n stuff.blah.Not saying I can't do the important stuff.I can.I have been doin it.My dad has tried to make me as independant as possible.i have gone to the bank and done paperwork and got bored outa my brains.Just don't like it.I should find a guy who actually likes doing all dat.if thats even possible.
Its crazy how normal traditional Indian parents won't let their girls date..because..well 'u can't go out with someone u hardly know"..or rather.."i know that boy..he's up to no good..trust me..i m ur parent.i know best."..but then years later..when they're gettin ready to get their daughter hitched..its the same scenario..they hardly know the guy..literally a stranger.and they want u to spend your whole life with him.he could chop u up with an axe on the very first nite..how wud they know???how is this rite and that wrong?its all the same!!noone really knows anyone either wayz.people change every second.who knowz what cud happen the next second..its like this deep dark hole...u just gota jump into it.u got nooo idea wat cud be in there.u think u've got a grip on somethin so u won't hurt urself..but u never know when its gona give away and come down with u.i know i m bein all super negative.but thats all that goes on in my head...i'm like Eeyore...can't help it..
ok my feet are being literally eaten into by giant mosqitos..so I'm gona go.Wish me luck on the guy hunt..or rather..wish all the guyz out there luck...they're the ones gone b stuck with Depression Hotline 24/7.Oh well! datz life,ain't it!

d wheels of d bus go round n round

2008-07-24T03:06:00.000-07:00

I've been travelling a lot lately...well not exactly to exotic new places or anythin..just goin back n forth frm home n college.anywayz,this involves a lota travelling via bus.and this..on d better days gives a lota time to think.i mean d days where ur not hanging out the door tryin to avoid ppl's elbow,feet,whatevaz from pushin u outta the bus.but even then,as i cling on for dear life, lotta thoughts run thru my brain.most of the time its just "im gonna die i m gonne die im gonna die today!!" then i try to take in everythin i see cos these i figured wud b the last few things i'd see b4 i die - someone's sweaty back of the neck,someone's hairy arm,dirty windows,green streaks outside which turns out to b trees but looks like streaks cos of d speed at which d bus goes.this gets me thinkn of aperture n shutter speed in cameras n the whole oh wow our eye is jsut like a camera thought.
on better days, when i manage to park my behind on a seat,then its not too bad.i still believe that that wud b my last ever journey,nd try to memorize the driver's face so that i can hold him responsible wen i reach up there.i've even recorded a lil goodbye msg to my friends n family on my phone.but then how my phone is gona survive the crash wen i won't...i try not to reason too much.i try to listen to music but even the loudest volume cant seem to drain out the driver's inneccesant honking.i sometimes glare at him so bad as if they'll burn holes at the back of his head n then he'll learn his lesson n regret having honked while i was on board.i generally enjoy d the bumps n jumps of bus travel.i guess i just got used to it.hated it just this once when i jumped up real high from the seat n hit my head on d roof of d bus.other than that i try to see it as a roller coaster ride.its especially fun wen ur standing..my friend n i sumtimes play this game where we gotta stand upright without holding onto anythin on d bus.loadsa fun,but most of d co-passengers never seen to think so.humor-anity is dying nowadays.
another amazing thing is that whenever i start off on some really long trip,my bladder decides to have sum fun with me.it alwayz happens!!!so its like crossed legs for some 5-6 hours until i reach.my worries about dying somehow takes d back seat at that point.
u know how in movies,romances blossom in buses,friends or ppl who inspire ppl to write books,make movies,win nobel peace awards,turn into a new leaf are almost alwayz found in buses.mayb it cos i'm not lookin hard enuff for inspiration in d slightly over-weight ladies who manage to crush me to one side of the wall, or the little kids who like to wipe their snot on my bag or the lady with her head out the window puking the life outta her,which is struggle to keep my life in me while the stench "inspires" me to ape her.the best ones r the old men/women who sits in d seat ahead of urs n spits their paan or whateva out the window every half hour n it comes flyin onto ur face...splat!!yes..such is the joys of bus travel.
and no bus is complete without mr.itchy fingers!!those self-respecting men who cant seem to keep their hands,feet,fingers,elbows or whatevaz to themselves.i stare at them long enuff to memorize their faces so that in my next life i'll b born as their mom n trust me,i wudnt bet on winnin d mom of the year award then.
i prefer buses to trains though.trains confuse me.too many things to remember.but then even in case of buses,i have a tough time tryin to remember where im supposed to get off.n i do get off in d middle of nowhere everyonce in a while n have a panic attack.but nowadays i just decide beforehand what i m gona do if i get down where by mistake.its all planned.
other than i luv the window seat.love the strong blast of wind hittin my face (i like it spit free,though), luv it even more wen it rains..not too much..just enuff to make me smile each time a water droplet hits my face.which the person sittin next to me mite find a tad bit creepy.but i dunt care.its one of d few things i enjoy bout those times.i like lukin at ppl on board with me n tryin to figure out wat their name is n where they're goin.i neverbother askin cos i really dunt care.its so much easier to make it up.
so thats all bout my travelling adventure..i ve never really had an adventure to talk off during travel.had pretty boring travel experiences.unless its with friends.then its a whole different story.tell ya mayb sum other time.. ta!

2008-06-02T11:22:00.000-07:00

elu elu...i ve recently gotten into the big bad career-woman sorta life lately..sorta..not really..cos i dunt get paid..and i dunt have to pay d rent or cook n stuff ladat..ok ok so i m doin an internship..and yeah well it stinkz..

people think journalism is this great flashy kinda job..where normal ppl bcome heroz over nite..uncovering great scandals and covering glam events n..oh i m not even gona go on cos u know i m obviously gona say it NOTHING LADAT.it suckz..its boring.with a capital C.i ve been at it for like a week and the only things that i probably learnt is that :

Journalism is not d thing 4 me.i cud write a buk of reasobs y ppl like me shud nt try it.mayb if sumone did all the field work i cud do that makin it into words n..naah i really wudnt wanna.

People who work in offices r mean.not all.but most.i used to watch all these reality shows where ppl get their asses kicked n grinded tryin to b fashion designers,dancers,chefs,wanna-bez,whateva..and chuckle to myself cos i wud never b in their position n wud never take anyone's shit ladat...or wud i?I wud probably throw my weight around too if i were in their position too..i mean experience-wise..but it still sux..

i cannot work in d heat.i didnt know i had a problem with excess heat..apparently i get all dizzy wizzy n pukey..and i wasnt even pretendin half d times that happen.im such a weakling...encoded..non-journalist material.

oh in addition to the point b4 this one..ppl in d office keeps tellin us how we're such bad journalists n how we're not meant to b there n blah blah...i wud feel a lil bad bout wat they're sayin if i didnt agree wit them more..i mean ill b like i KNOOOOOW..TOTTAALLY..SO kick us outta here ppppplleeeaaaseee!!

the one observation dat my sis made is that..hmm to get into journalism u really need to have that passion..the PASSION.thing is..i do have d passion.i probably do have a whole glass full a passion wen i go to office every mornin..but all that passion probably gets drained out by mid afternoon dus to a)heat b)fatigue c)intense hatred towards d whole of mankind caused due to a) and b)

Everyone hates journalists.they're not that nice.once these buncha kids do this press conference n im all like aww how sweet..but these bunch of other journos literally tore open those kids..pointed fingers,hurled accusations,pretty much squeezed d pulp outta d kids...n the worst thing was..by the end of it..i was convinced too..by the reporters...i was like oh those awful manipulative kids!!ACK!

Everyone at the journo office is all too crazy bout the job.so the job is all that gets thru to their head.u say a joke thats like un-journalistic or newspaperish or even send an sms using sms language,they give u the Look.the "oh she's one of those" looks.or the "oh she's not one among us,is she now" look. and i do the "oh god oh god oh god get me get me get me OUTTA HERE" look..which freaks em out a lil more.u know how sum ppl has the "calling"..to do sumthin...well this was my "un-calling".tellin me dunt even consider journalism.not wit ur mind frame.n ur knowledge on politics..or the country..or any important issue for that matter.

as of now i ve deicided tha advertising is my calling.but then again i vent dun an internship at an ad agency yet...but then i do need sumthin to keep me goin.so until then...i ll see ya at madison avenue!!ciao!!

2008-04-19T01:05:00.000-07:00

well well well...its been a while..was reading that old entry i made.how things change so fast..i thought that sir was out to put me down..but now he's like an encouragement centre.me n my friends have decided to clone him n make a lil him for each of us to carry around in our pocket so we'll never b short of an encouragement even after we leave college.its a work in progress!!
i ve been doin sum "on paper" writing.its nothin like typing on a keyboard.its a such a struggle.to move the pen up n down and apply just the right pressure n in the end noone can really understand wats written anyway.god bless the people who invented keyboards.
recently i ve been thinkin bout how the inventor's of so many things shud b in one way or d other b worshipped for their inventions..like first n foremost the inventor of ceiling fans..if not the inventor of air conditioner..im sure a billion others wud agree with me.
the inventors of chocolate..i usually thank them a billion times as i cherish d taste of the cool hot sweet sizzling brownie.food of d gods..seriously...beyond bliss thats wat it is.
inventors of blowdriers- i mean its like swich swash n bam ur hair luks great.its like magic!who wud've thought..
inventors of d delete button- again a billion of u wud agree with me.if only they had a delete button for life too..mess up ur life..delete ur past.sumbody hurt u real bad..delete him/her frm ur friends list.hate ur life..delete ur account(and make it again later wen u feel like)
hmm..so this entry is dedicated to all those ppl..whose made our lives so much greater with their inventions which we use all the time but dunt really bother to stop n think or express our gratititude to them.
here is a list of other ppl who i'd like to thank :
inventor of the flush in toilets
inventor of cello tape (never underestimate the power of a cello tape)
inventor of that fine tuning button on tv
inventor of the handles on cups
inventor of hair scrunchies.
inventor of "hold d lift open" laser beam thingy on elevators
inventors of chocolate(yes again), caramel n junk food of all kinds.ur probably killin us wit d calories..but we luv ya anyway.
inventors of mosquito repellants (thank u frm the botton of mine n my roommates hearts)

thats all i can think of.actually i can think of a lot more.but i gota go.gona go pay my tribute to the junk fud gurus now.yum!catchy yall later!ta!

trashy blogger

2008-01-23T02:57:00.000-08:00

today was one of those days.this professor of mine happen to start off class today with "how many of u have a blog of ur own?" and my wonderfully annoying friend just had to point at me.Its not that i have a problem with people reading my blog.i mean thats wat blogs are for,right?to be put out there.But the thing is i've never considered the thought of people..as in big serious people like my professors or my hod (oh lord!) reading this.I might as well never go back to college after that.I'm supposed to be a journalism student.And it was pretty recently that i found out that i'm just not cut out for journalism.Just look at the way i write.thats no newspaper lingo.I've spend many a sleepless nights wondering where i'm gonna get a job if i had to live on my writing...oh maybe for comic books?but even comic books have got to make sense.maybe writing is just not my 'calling'.maybe i'm yet to be 'called'.
anywayz,this sir then went ahead to tell us about some interesting blogs that he happen to come across.ok so maybe he did'nt use the word interesting.'trashy' was more like it.it would all have been very ok if when he started explaining the content of the blog n it turned out sounding somethin pretttyy similar to mine.god,it was sooooooo humiliating.cos this is one of those few people on earth whose opinions matter.he said that these blogs r full of "i i i i"..and i remembered that post i made earlier bout speakin a lot bout myself (I,Me,Myself).
So the bottom line is today was a total disater.just yesterday i made up my mind to be all optimistic and stuff this year.and u know wat.i m gona do just that.
i mean ok so maybe this blog does'nt have any purpose and talks a lot bout myself and is a total waste of time n space.but then everyone has to be all silly at times.mayb i ll start a serious blog with serious issues.and hide this blog from serious people.
earlier today i felt real bad bout what that sir said and sorta realised i should be writing a lot more important stuff considering thats wat i go to college and try to study everyday.i even considered putting an end to this blog.my sixth grade teacher inspired and encouraged me to start writing..in this weird style of mine..and now it looked like my college professor had put out that flame.but u know wat.i'm still gona keep writing like this.probably won't make a living writing like this.and noone really has to read it or even like it.but this is sorta my identity.if i suddenly start writing bout social issues it'd b like i'm tryin to b someone else.
maybe i will start a boring blog with boring stuff and be all serious and not-me in it.but for me writing is..unwinding.and when u think and write bout stuff u just get a bit more wound up.and gives me a headache.lord knows how long i'll be able to write like this.so until then..yabadabadooooooooo!!!!!!! i i i i i i i i i iii iii i ii i i ii i i i i i ii i i!
:-D

happy birthday Blog!!!

2007-11-26T08:59:00.001-08:00

heyyy today is the day i officially started blogging...this blog is one year old as of now...wow...a year passes by and my bullshittin still remains d same..i guess sum things never change.. :-)

good+bad=complicated

2007-11-26T08:59:00.000-08:00

i was thinkin last night..how in life..everythin is not either just good or bad..its both..like the whole two sides of a coin theory..ok maybe not everythin..but most of the things..like..smoking,mayb..its bad cos of all the well known reasons..like blah n lungs n all that..and its good cos it feels soooo good..same with food..u feel awesome wen u eat sumthin u love..but not good wen u end up seeing d results on ur weighin machine..and the classic example...LOVE...wen ur with a person..y cant there b only good times..wen u break up with sumone..u tend to think most bout the bad parts..which is why ur still broken up frm that person..wat if there were no bad parts..wat if there r people with whom u have ONLY good times and people with whom u have only bad times..then u'd know who to hang on to and who to let go...life wud'nt b so bloody complicated then...why cant everythin just b black or white..and not grey!
whoa..i duno if anyone is gona get all that..life has just been so complicated lately with me havin to make sum crucial decisions..which sucks..my mind is a bloody mess..
but even in this case..thats the bad part..the good part is..that i m glad i have sumthin to think bout..
is'nt thinking great?i mean noone can deny u the right to think..or dream..You could b in the middle of a stupidly boring conference,but u cud b thinkin bout strip clubs in Vegas!i mean who cares..noone's gona know wat ur thinkin bout..and its the only way u can even remotely come close to the statement "i wish i were sumwhere else right now"
thinking rocks.. :-)

r u listening?

2007-10-18T01:55:00.000-07:00

Blogging actually used to b fun when ppl used to read my blogs....nobody's got the time now..how is it that when i m jobless enough to b sitting here n typing all this nonsense,noone's got the time to read all this nonsense?my blog visit thingy says 54 visitors...i say yeah right..liar...

anywayz...nothing ultimately interesting has happen of late...im tryin to talk to very proper english cos my english is going all...blah...see?see what i mean?wat i mean to say was my english is turning quite atrocious...if thats even how u spell it..

ever hate a person cos he or she is better at something than u?i have...lotta times...mayb i could put it down as a lil green eyed monster playing up...mayb its a psychological problem...its stupid..cos thats a stupid reason to get upset with sumone..cos if they ask u it d b so weird to say "i don't like u cos...u play chess better than me"..... not that i m jealous of anyone who plays chess better than me...i dunt even like chess..it was just a metaphor..

ppl say yoga or meditating or whateva is relaxing..i kinda think blogging is quite relaxing..sure there is that huge surge of nausea that comes when ya think of all the ppl tats gona read this entry...but 54 ppl is ok with me...not earth shattering..

today we had this question in our exam bout blogging and one of my friends said she knew nothing bout it and the only person who knew who blogged was me...i was kinda honoured..i have introduced the concept of blogging into this tiny little town..well maybe not really..but that was nice..
anywayz, i m gonna go hit the buks 4 ma exams tomo..ok who am i kiddin..im gona go take a nap...meanwhile all u 54 ppl out there..keep visiting...we ll make it 100 soon okay?ta!
p.s-i just realised sumthin...my last post i mentioned that only 53 ppl visited my blog...this time its 54...one person...ONE PERSON!!and that mite have been me only...WHAT IS WRONG WITH U PPL???!!

2007-10-06T23:59:00.000-07:00

apparently 53 ppl have visited my blog...i refuse to believe that there r that many ppl who r THAT jobless..enough t actually sit n read my crap...ooooorrrrr...outa the 53, already 50 mut ve been my own visits...i m jobless..and i like to read ma crap!
hmmm u have these times when life seems to b at a standstill...the same old monotonous rountine...every day seems to b a rewinded version of yesterday...then u have those times when life is total goddamn whirlwind!!!if its like this in the morning its like that ion the afternoon...i ve often craved for that sorta life...changes every minute...but now when i m stuck in the middle of this fast pace...i cant help but scream STOP!!!!give it a rest..its giving me a friggin headache..
the hardest part is being able to adapt to all these changes at just as fast a pace.sometimes it hard keeping up.sometimes it feels hopeless.like its a huge struggle...
i mean recently life has been going from bad to worse to hell worse...u think where on earth is the tiny opening thru which the sun'll shine again?know wat?there is no hole...
u gonna have to start scratching out a brand new hole if u wanna see the sun shine..am i making sense?i just hope i havent started to sound like a self help book.
ok another thing i wanna say is...no matter how nice a friend has been to u...alwayz b cautious ok?
noone is the way they seem to b..i mean they may seem pretty FLAWLESS to u...like the ultimate best friend...and one fine day they turn aroun n show u the other side...don't stnd around to take in that shock...u may not b able to stand it..its scary..and it makes u lose trust i everyone u know....
anywayz..this has been boring enuff..i dunt feel my normal clueless self..anywayz hope my entry has been "enlightening"..ha..enlightened by me!that'll b a first!! :-) Ta!

EXAM BLUES

2007-09-15T01:59:00.000-07:00

i hate exams....as in I HAAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAAAAAAAAYYYTE (pronounced the way Jim Carrey says Wehehehhehehehhehehlll in Ace Ventura) exams...
its not the thing bout having to study..its the damn process of writing it..i mean is'nt it enough that we study the stuff?why do we have to like write it alllll over again?don't they trust us?
another thing bout exams in i cannnnot sleep without atleast staying up half the night..if not the whole nite.i would'nt even b studying..i'd be reading nothing related to study material, or i d b talkin to friends or sometimes jsut even staring into space...and its not like i get distracted while studyin and do these stuff..i just do all those..intentionally..just knowing that i ve stayed up all nite the nite before the exam gives me this strange sense of confidence..weird..
but yeah sure falling asleep during the exam is a whole different thing.its only half due to no-sleep..the other half is due to plain boredom..there are when i ve been reduced to tears of boredom in d exam hall..
i dunno y i just wrote all this..i was thinkin bout all this during my last exam(that is, before i fell asleep)
exams sux!! >:-(

2007-09-10T08:02:00.000-07:00

stuck in the middle...thats wat i am now...actually i m not even stuck..its like i m slowly vanishing from the middle..imagine how blaah it wud b if u really wanna stay visible but u cant help turning invisible?and noone notices that ur fading..brrrrrrrrrr..
actually it wouldnt be that bad mayb..mayb there d be other forgotten invisible souls walking bout and then all of us inivible ppl can join together and form a community...wat if they too start ignoring each other...wat could b beyond invisibility...
yeah ok i m not drunk or high ( though i mite b a lil high on chocolate..im not sure)just been doin sum thinking lately (yes-out of the blue)
or mayb i m just bored....possible..thought this was gonna turn out nice..dunt feel like continuing..ill sum it up with the opening lines of a rap song created by me n sam..
"Life is such a drag,
It makes me wanna gag"

amen.

2007-08-10T05:30:00.000-07:00

have u ever felt u ve had to grow up all of a sudden?its crazy...my post grad life started just a few weeks ago and its like..everything is different now..its no longer the old blaaaaah sorta life..i mean yeah sure at times it is..but then..so many changes..so fast..
ppl start treating ya like an adult.its crazy..i mean im still the same person..how dus a coupla years make a difference?
kids feel like kids..time seems more short..life just looks a lot more plain serious.....is this wat growing up is all about?i know its weird talkin bout growing up at 21..but trust me..if u know d person i am u 'd know wat i mean.........i ve been fighting growing up all this while..now..sumhow..its sad..but not too bad..boring..but i think i can adjust!! ;-)
besides..everyone can b a kid every once in a while cant they?

farewell...

2007-04-02T04:11:00.000-07:00

well...its that time now..finally...i ve been waiting for this for a looong loong time..to get outta this place..leave behind all the crap i ve been goin through..forget all d mess i ve gotten into...and well that time has come and somehow......yeah yeah u know wat i m gonna say...somehow all those stuff seem really really small now...i really dunt wanna leave..i'm comfortable here..i dunt wanna go to a new place n start all over again..i dunt wanna leave my friends..i wanna see all those familiar faces..and my class..i used to haaate going to class..but i dunno..i'd give anythin to continue goin to that classroom and doin wat we alwayz do..absoultely nothin...i know i wunt get a life which is soo easy going n relaxed ever again..sure there had been stress,tension,work loads..but c'mon..there has also been fun..sooo much fun...and u know wat the moooost annoying part is..just wen i m about to leave i meet all these amazing ppl and i m like oh godddddddd..why cud'nt i have met them earlier..now i m gona have to miss them too...
three years of whining complaning cursing....
three years of chilling,freedom(frm home),doin crazy stuff,flirting
three years of slogging,pulling all nighters,passing notes in class
three years of....i dunno...the best three years of my life is drawing to an end.......
all my friends r gonna go in to new colleges now n make new friends(i hate those new friends of urs already) i'm gonna miss u guyz...u made my life so much fun...i ll never forget the times we shared..and i thank u all for bein a part of my life...mayb it hasnt alwayz been all that smooth..but i dunt regret having met any one of u...I wuv u alll...*sniff sniff*

i me myself

2007-02-15T00:31:00.000-08:00

u know how before u post a new thingi u have sum idea wat it is ur gona type?i really dunt..and yeste i accidentaly admitted to my friend that 'i do not think" to which she whole heartedly seemed to agree....oh by the way..to my greatest pals n roommates..i wana thank u for the surprise bday party yeste...although ur 4 months late..and i did guess d surprise already(i repeat..the Queen of surprises Cannot b surprised!)..it was realy sweet of u guyz..and i luv cake so that sums it all up.. ;-)
dont u just hate old keyboards...i hate wen i click n the words dun come out d way i want it to..or mayb im just still half asleep n i m just blamin the keyboard..hmmm..
sumtimes i think i m d most self centred person on earth...i mean just look at the number of "i"s in this blog...i m gona write bout other ppl frm now on...like...................................................................................................................................................
oh chuck it...its MY BLOG.. as in allll mine..so i can write wateva i want in it..... ii ii i ii iiii i ii i IIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIII II I I iii i ii iiii
so there...

singles ROCK!!!

2007-02-10T22:46:00.000-08:00

hello helloo..its been a while...hmmm anywayz..one of my friends read my blog yeste and said i shud b a famous novelist...okay so she dint say famous..but okay..and she was reading this book by ellen degeneres..u know the funny lady?the Ellen show?the voice of Dory on Finding Nemo?okay so she was reading it and she said it reminded her of me....and im like flattered...i read that book..or half of it and oh my god...its one of those rib tickling, punch the pillow..jump up straight snort and laugh kinda book..okay so maybe not that much also..but yeah..and being thought of wen ur readin a buk like that is..well mayb not exactly a compliment..but i cudnt care less..i m flattered....
ahem ahem..so its THAT time of that year again...the big 14th...and basically my viewz on that day can b expressed in one work....YUUUUEEEEEEEUCKKK!!!!VALENTINE'S DAY SUCKZ!
i mean watz tha deal,man?like ppl need one day to get all koochy kooey and mushy wushy...like they dunt do that and irritate the rest of the population the other 364 dayz..and sure ppl say its not all about guy-girl relationship but heyloooo u have got days for all the other ppl(eg:father's day mom's day, doctor's day,postman's day,hairy guy living down the street who picks his nose in public's-day)its like wen ur best guy friend buys a HUGE teddy bear for his girlfriend and wen u ask him bout ur gift he sorta tears off one arm of the bear n hands it to ya.."see,i thought of ya too..this is urs too.." oh gimmi a break....
why is there no SINGLES DAY????where singles can do all their fun stuff???I DECLARE THIS FEBUARY 14TH AS SINGLES DAY!!
ALL U SINGLES GO OUT THERE AND THROW STONES AT COUPLES!!
alrite alrite so mayb i m just crabby cos i m single...but i still think there shud b a singles day....
anywayz....SINGLES ROCK!!!!

sniffles

2007-01-10T04:24:00.000-08:00

so here i am back in college..yay yahoo wawawhooom...n i m so tired of puttin my college down..i mean sure it sux and sure i m sick n tired of it but not like i can doa nythin bout it rite?so far college has been exactly the way it has been 4 the past 2 ana half years..blah..i thinks its cos mayb im the sorta person who gets bored real fast..anyway i dunt even have anythin to write in this blog..i just figured its been a whi...*sneeze* excuse me..been a while..so laddat..noone really looks at my blog anyway..here i go again...whine whine whine...
things havent exactly changed around in college..but sumhow i think i ve changed a bit..like just a few dayz ago a girl called me "a box of creativity" lol..okok so mayb i m just boasting..but that was one of the nicest compliments anyone'z every given me..if that girl is reading this..luv,u made my day...
anyway..i ve come back to college a lot more...i dunno...grown up i guess...i dunt let tiny lil stuff bother me much anymore..i dunt think i m very sensitive anymore..but i am still very dependant on others...ok wateva...i ve got a cold..and its gotten to my head...so i dunt even know wat i m saying..i hate colds...y dunt things flow up rather than down?such a pain...
this blog aint nuthin great...just time pass...

B-b-b-oooored

2006-12-25T03:53:00.000-08:00

Hey...this is sumthin i ran into recently sumwhere up on the net..and its really cool..and i t hink everyone shud try it...

Are You Bored? Try These Things:

Act like you just met your friend for the first time
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Announce your candidacy for President
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Annoy total strangers
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Ask a question nobody can answer
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Bark at people in the grocery store
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Be a monk...for a day
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Burp the Happy Birthday song
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Change your name...daily
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Dare to be stupid
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Exorcise a ghost
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Go into a bar and ask for a Molotov Cocktail
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Go to your local museum, and try to get kicked out
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Hold your hand
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Insist everyone calls you “Your highness”
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Kiss your elbow, if you can
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Practice your arm pit farting skills (Advanced participants try with your hand cupped on the back of your knee)
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Pretend you are God
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Read a book a sentence a day
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Scratch yourself - Go ahead, scratch yourself now. Even if nothing itches, go ahead. Doesn't that feel pretty good?
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Throw a huge party for no reason at all
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Ain't that cool?so wat ya waiting 4?go ahead n do alla that n un-bore ya self!ta!

Old n Hating it

2006-12-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

hey ho hi....
i jsut thought of sumthin last nite..how ppl r alwayz makin a fuss bout growing old..as in like 40 or 30 or 50 n stuff..well i think growing old sux too..but i m not thaat old yet..but i think gettin to b a 20 sux too..i turned 20 a while ago..n this is wat i hate bout it

Being 20+ sucks cos :

~everyone expects u to act ur age...and they really think ur gona..

~ur dad startz callin u an "adult" and over-does it too

~u cant avoid the funny lukz ppl give ya at mcdonalds if ya order a Happy Meal..so u pretend its for ur invisible lil sister..

~ignorant younger guyz piss the hell outa u

~everyone bugz u ta get ur driver's license

~everyone bugs u to get a job/get married/whateva

~u look at juvenile lil kids n shake ur head so much that u end up with a crick in ur neck

~ur folks let u watch 21+ movies...along with em...which is tooootally awkward..

~u go to a club n the bouncer goes "yeah right" lukin at ur id card..

~u pick up a spoon and ur parents start the "my lil girl's all grown up n cooking n all" talk...

~u rent serious mature luking movies and fall asleep watchin it

~the cute clothes at the "below 14" section dunt fit any more..

~doin illegal things ain't fun anymore cos ur allowed to do it..

~u go to the doctor and first question is "so how long have u been married?"

that all 4 now..me ll think of more later n add...well there is nuthin u can do about all this..since u ll just grow older not younger..so just deal wit it,ppl..

2006-12-14T15:53:00.000-08:00

omg....ppl r makin blogz 4 peace corps n save the whale stuff!!n here i am with a blog to celebrate my jobless-ness..
NO ...this blog will serve a purpose...n the purpose will be...revealed..in a coupla dayz..it requirez thinkin...and based on the previous two posts u probably figured out how well i do that..
so like winnie the pooh sez...think think think...hey..ur suggestions r welcome..how dumb..y wud u tell me wat i shud put up in my blog??
but ya still...

mornin sicknezz

2006-12-14T15:31:00.000-08:00

ok...so this is probably the weirdest time possible to start a blog thingi..i mean its 3 in the mornin..first of all..im depressed..cos i dun wana go bak ta college in 2 dayz...waaaaaaahahahhaha :-(
i mean lota other nice stuff been happenin lately..but heck wen u ve got like one thing to depress u,all the other nice stuff dun seem to matter,ya?is it laddat 4 everyone?
uh-oh...i hope this blog aint gona b how everyone realised im actually a pyscho..
u know who shud have a blog?my friend sam...i mean she writes smart stuf..blogs must b to impart knowledge..and apart frm the fact that my coll sux and im a psycho..u guyz dun exactly feel enlightened do ya?
ok ok blah blah..

hang on lemme check wat all i kin do in hea..ohh big deal..luk i yam red and green and pink..and friggin jobless...

ok ok i m sure a lota u ppl r goin...gaawd...who let ppl like her own a blog..

yeah well they let me..so HA!

ok ok serious stuff...hmmmmm...ummmm...okaay..hey..

did u know that POST...is actually STOP jumbled up?so thats wat me shud do...MAAAAN was that intelligent or wat?

hey please dont send me hate mail yet...its a start,ya?ill work on it,k?promise..tc..

2006-12-14T14:57:00.000-08:00