O-bla-di-bla-da

Young fathers really do it for me. Especially if they wear aviators and drive Maruti 800s and wear blue jeans and black t-shirts with an ever so slight paunch. Always a little bored, a little late, a little credulous. Tempestuous affair here I come.

Yes, I do know time and other things have happened. STILL.

Paper Planes

Hello children, as I type this I stare out into a vast expanse of poppy fields with the sun blazing a goodbye in the twilight sky. Nah, it's just a park, a very staid one that one. We have been shifting, shifting, moving, moving, again, again, oh so overrated. this is new place is a bunch of apartment blocks, and I is on the sixth floor. The house is much, smaller than the earlier one but it's closer to my grandparents and now as I'm having chicken sandwiches and cake (the leftovers of Nani's kitty) I think it is absolutely in the affirmative worth the move.

So I have been very nirvana and zen like without the internet for almost a week. It felt quite good actually. First couple of days I was completely knocked out with moving boxes around, and for the rest I even opened my course books - miracles never cease! I feel most accomplished with my adam skills though, because with the the phone, I changed subcription and mailing adresses, got the worldspace and internet guy over and basically did all the chasing and running around by.my.self. - but let me tell you wifi is so overrated, and it eats into your speed; it's not that you get the same speed on all the computers, it's the total split up between the comps - gah! and since I still have a desktop it makes no difference to me whatsoever, except maybe the connection is slower on the whole.

Also, I have to tell you about a very momentous discovery in my life called tandoori moms - ohhohoho, why have a momo when you can have a tandoori momo? It's freaking brilliant dude! They serve it with green chutney and it looks like chicken tikka - but it's not! it's a momo that's been put in th tandoor and has that fake red colour thing on it, and it tastes like both - only better! (tpp many exclamations but forgive) Place is QDs, tacky, cheap, very Kamla Nagar - try it, you MUST.

More later. Have SO many blog drafts.

I was gonna take pictures and show you my room..if I could just find the damn camera now..

You never returned that call

Hello internet people, if there's anyone left that is. Sorry - sorry about being incognito, and even though end of the year cheeriness is nudging me to promise regular posts, am not going to and then might end up actually. But I do come in peace and as an added incentive, have a post. (DUH)

So, Happy Boxing Day : ) Hmm..reminds of me Adrian Mole somehow. So Christmas day come and gone, everyone wearing Santa hats and feeling jolly or something like that. What did I do? Well, bought a cactus from my (ex) school carnival, that's a given, I buy it every year, and it dies before june the next year - though this time I inspected them from below and realised that half of them were burnt/dying already - so felt much better about my plant parenting skills, and hope this one lives as long as me, its quite a fat little bugger. What else? Usually this movie called Mixed Nuts comes on zstudio, (when it used to be called z something else, the exact nomenclature is eluding me right now), Steve Martin, Rita Wilson - madness, hilarious, I used to love, love it, but it no came this year :( and I resisited the urge to download Love Actually, that is going a bit overboard. Ate only junk food all day and wore my candy earrings; also cousin bro came over and for some reason we were 'studying' together (and breakdancing among other things, oh you do not want that visual in your head). Now see, life is definitely better when we're together (credit: Jack Johnson), but how do you get anything done? For example I cannot read, study, write(ha) or watch movies when other people are around - and that is pretty much 90% of my life - eternal paradox yes?

Anyway, saw this movie called The Wackness and just for Ben Kingsley I'd watch it again, about rap/hip-hop in the 90s etc etc, some memorable lines-

(Girl when bonding with the guy, MAJOR moment in the film) - "Dude, I look at the dopeness of things, and you..you look at the wackness."

(Boy confessing love to girl and getting really mad because not being reciprocated) "I love you, I'm not going to lie, It makes me wanna listen to Boys to Men."

Say no more? Got ya (oh but girl is Leah from Juno, so thoda sa immunity she gets)

Speaking of Ben Kingsley, also saw Elegy, which has him and Penelope Cruz, just a heads up boys, several nude shots of her, and extremely good print available online. Topically is so beentheredonethat - old professor, young student, imagine the rest. Thematically, was supposed to be different, voice overs, steady revelation of depth of characters etc. and twist in the end, because elegy right? so mean someone dies - but not who you think it is (wags finger) Though throught the film I just couldn't get over how lovely Penelope was looking, simply gorgeous by any standards, not enough to make me wanna switch sides but as a woman you can go like wow, you are indeed a good specimen, aand..that reminds me of the song - best of you by the foo fighters.

You know readers, I am getting the best of one person, two infact. For closure, V was here and we met up, at his place, and we exchanged movies, and weird book things and it was most wonderful, except after the buzz and elation, I felt empty, because it's over, well and truly and finally, and it's no fun not having someone to like. You know how when you get up in a start in the middle of the night, and you need a thought, a generally pleasant thought to focus on to go back to sleep..well, that lot is vacant now. Oh well, atleast I got the best of him for awhile.

Suppose that makes me "emotionally available" now..bwahahaha.

Another Chapter in the book of Cell phone Drafts.

(This is not writing, it’s learning how to write but mostly I just want to tell you these things)


To go above and beyond what he could ever expect, to make a grand gesture, to dramatise the surroundings, to make a point of it. The gravity of the thought stayed with her, and excited her so much that she stopped her work and sat down to explore its depth, Where would she stay? How would be look? What would she say? When will he ask her? and so on. It takes off then, this galloping, all encompassing, deliriously colourful and hopeful world, it fills up her day, and when she pauses to trace back the cause of this vague contentedness, it’s only too obvious. Dreams tend to be that way. Cause she has already done so much and had been so many people, how’s she ever going to top it? The feeling that nothing will be the same again, in a lucky, positive flourish that changes the realities of existence, the practicalities of a routine, and builds in its place a fondness, a nostalgia for what is lost.

On a unimaginable scale, that’ll require numbers not yet discovered to tabulate it, lens powerful enough to capture it lie yet undiscovered, hidden in chemical codes of silver evaporating, aluminium, bromide and we haven’t made it just yet - a canvas big enough, to hold that pulsating growing hideous mass of thoughts continuously extracted that make up the parallel worlds in our heads.

If only things were that easy, to break them up into seasons, into terms and when one is desperate before exams, sick with worry, with guilt and self loathing, our writers disappoint us, glossing over, pushing all that tension into one flippant sentence. For as long as I can remember I’ve been reading novel after novel before the most crucial, supposedly paramount, exams of my life. I want long in-depth discourses into this distraction, this preoccupation, this inability to focus, yet they all seem to have just a page or two on it, I want to read a whole book about just the last twenty four hours before a test, so that I can viscously, sickeningly, put my teeth into in, and hold on desperately while my own deadline approaches closer.

As for those people that authors thank on the first and last pages of their books - my heart wells up with jealousy; possessiveness creeps in as the tale gets going, I want to be there, by his side, for him to consider me beautiful, to inspire the writing, the greatness, the most wonderful literary-ness, which so many have rediscovered time and again, and it forms an exclusiveness which is far from elite, it is the very pulse of our temples, of our language, or the vast filing cabinets in our heads. To be there while she writes, talking things out, dreaming things up, sorting out erased memories and engineered ones; and it overtakes me, this urge to know them, to be near them, and I think, how can they not know? How can they not feel this power, that seems to have consumed every facility of my being? And I can’t bear it anymore.

If the voice is not given any air, no gentle flap to encourage the cinder, it dies suffocating on its insecurity, on its unsteady beginnings, and I find myself utterly unable to write. Let that never happen, let there always be an avalanche of words - however unworthy, however cringe worthy, and may I never settle, never fully understand, but always try and try and try. If only you spare five minutes, to make a genuine recommendation, or a heartfelt critique, dismiss with style my inaptitude, with significance; I could travel far, very far. For the people I want most to be read by, I can’t let them, because they’re all over these pages. It would come glaring into light how much under my skin they are, exposing the very stitches that hold together my tacky faux velvet costume dress, and it would be a betrayal of sorts, but a wonderful coming out as well, and I wish nothing more, little darling, sugar chicken, blue honey bun for you to have your eyes on me, right now, quite like this.

Like the drummer in Spinal Tap

Jeez, it has only been, well 9 days, and not to mention I is a full time student and do-nothinger, and blogging can really get in the way of that. (HAHAHA)

Let's see major development in my life; I am slowly weaning off my two mugs of bournvita a day. See pehle, there was simply no point waking up in the morning if I didn't have the milk, because well, it awakens one, just like a bath..and usually I'd have an afternoon nap and then I'd need milk again the evening to wake me up. For those time periods when we were shifting and between houses and there was no one to dutifully give me my milk, I had to make it myself, but somehow, it would always turn out terrible with fat spots dancing in it in quite a disgusting way. I haven't always had this love affair with my milk, believe me. Plenty of plants have flourished because of the wonderful calcium supplements that were surreptiously poured into it. These days ofcourse Buddy benefits. Anyway I have started having either coffee or tea in the evning, and it is helping me tremondously in the sense that I seem to be less sleepy. (ofcourse this is not including the two cups of chai in college, whole different story)

My internet speed, which would be a good graph of my happiness index, have returned to normal. This has left me with mixed feelings as there are no more 300kbps freak streaks with movies (in the plural) getting downloaded within hours. Blissful times they were, yet they could just as quickly slow down to a crawl, and I would sit despondently wacthing it go from 0.2, 0.3, 5.6! 3.2, 2.1 (oh come on buck up) 0.3, 0.1, your movie will take 5 years now, meh.

So I is having to go furniture shopping now for bedside tables. My sister and me have been at each others throats because apparently the light doesn't let her sleep at night and we have rediscovered an ingenious thing called the bedside lamp, so bedside tables first. Ofcourse since this was MY problem I have to go pick them and cart them over..makes perfect sense.

One delightful thing that I found in the Duty Shop were 200 packs of doublemint and I have been making a strand of its wrappers while watching movies. Remember Sandra Bullock in the drug rehab movie, 28 days? Just like that yea, and it is MOST fun, it flips out prettily in my hand. However, my urge to interwine the wrappers is faster than my desire to chew gum (more of a polo person) so there are a lot of inner silvery wrapper, shady looking strips lying around..

and now you wonder why you ask for a blog post.

No Email Today!

Why is it that I can never be on time? I will sit and watch the clock ticking but I simply cannot keep a date. Like for example, today I woke up after a pretty late night and was kinda sleepy but not really at around 9. Called up to fix up to meet with my cousin at 10:30 so I had a good hour and a half, but something in my brain doesn't register this, and I act like I have two hours, minus of geting ready and getting there. So I flipped through Micro a bit, because early morning study time - best time but alas that wasn't to be. Had left the internet on all night so three movies had got downloaded (The Visitor, Manufactured Landscapes and The Wind that Shakes the Barley) none of which I was burning to see so put it off to give the computer a little break, that hardworking fellow. I flip through the TIME, which must be pounced upon before Buddy snatches it, and leisurely dilly dally over what I don't know..and then I go for my bath at 10:30 sheesh.



See, I hate going out, I just don't know what to do/wear. The thing is that my friend, a close one, I don't have too many (friends), so the ones I have I care about a lot and are pretty close too, is having this Hallooween/Birthday party tonight and usually I would say no without thinking, but anyway, have decided to go and I must go get dressed. The thing is that her friends are all gonna be dressed up as thosee bunny-sexy haloween types you know, and that is just. not. me. Hopefully I won't be a total klutz. And who the eff started hallowee



But good news folks, I have purachsed a BRAND NEW EXTERNAL HARD DISK! My life is joyous again, because computer was really cramming up and it makes no sense putting tv shows on cds not to mention the pain and hard work it is.



Indeed yes, and things at college are pretty chill, our professors have been striking consistently, and that gives rise to many free lectures!



Riveting, but more later.

Badshaah ke liye badshaah hi

I think everyone should have someone they can get Franny and Zooey for, the implication being that Catcher in the Rye was read, and knowing that the former is so. much. better.

And when it's cold and there's mufflers as an extension of your hair and five colours for your five cold fingers, and ipod shuffles to 'With or Without You' there should be someone who instantly climbs into your head..there's always that one person.

Don't you think?

Excuse me

Talking of guilty pleasures amdp, here is mine -

www.dlisted.com

Don't tell me what you think.

Cause I'm too lazy to do a real post

The Love Tag

The Rules:People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by them.People who have been tagged must Tag at least 6 people to do this quiz and those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Get it? Ok then...

If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?

Lover, giggles..

If you could have a dream come true, what would it be?

Have money to travel for schizz, live in other countries, be completely different people, look at stars till I can't see them, walk barefeet on grass the whole day, have a house full of pets and noise and a quiet room, and maybe be visited by someone(V), and I can talk and confess everything.

Will you fall in love with your best friend?

She's a girl dude, and with guy best friend? No because we'd be beyond that. With a friend maybe..

Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?

Blessed I dunno, and I've done the first(sorta) and it works fine for me, till now it has only made me uncontrollably happy and has infinte power over how my day's gonna turn out.

How long do you intend to wait for someone you love?

If things don't happen fast they don't happen at all.

If the person you secretly like is attached, what will you do?

Sit on a fence with my ipod.

If you could root for one social cause, what would it be?

Social..shakes head.

What takes you down the fastest?

Being nice when you don't have to be, remembering stuff that a person says they've liked/seen/etc.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?

As a successful struggling writer.

What’s your fear?

Not going beyond talk.

What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?

Talented, generally optimistic, (seemingly) happy-go-lucky and apparently someone who doesn't take a lotta offs!

Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?

Married and rich but not too rich.

If you fall in love with two people simultaneously who will you pick?

Never gonna happen.

Would you give all in a relationship?

No, cause they come and go, but in the end it's just me and my monk.

People you want to tag: anyone who's up for it. amdp? thantos? rohan?

Little Boxes on the Hillside

Sometimes it is possible to have a perfect half an hour. Let's begin with last thursday, so I wake up in the morning and there's a message from Kasha saying that oh, by the way, V is going to be in college today which made me smile instantly and I got ready singing and was generally cheerful - the singing at traffic lights kind. The thing is that even if it's all over on your side, seeing a person again and just chatting was fun and I REALLY didn't want to leave and go back but everyone was busy with some official sounding thing they had to, so with much reluctance I did. Random guy asks for a lift and on the way back he fiddles with my ipod and becomes DJ in the car. See, music is just a preference, you don't become cool or not because of what you listen to. And if someone likes the same stuff then it's a oh - universe conspiring kinda moment. There were a lot of ohmygod I can't believe you have this song, and oh I LOVE this one..and that's it, it doesn't have to be anything more (between you and him). It can if you want it to ofcourse, but I dunno, indie is really not my thing, Arcade Fire, DCC, Postal Service etc all ok, but in small doses..like I could never listen to a Damein Rice album. Delicate itself is pushing it.

Friday I said bye thee well to Eco Madonna who's off to U Chicago. He's the only person who I know in real life who actually reads this junk blog and gets back to me and that's sweet and he's promised to blog more, so I'm gonna hound him. (if you're reading this Roghan, hope you've landed fine and things are good!)

Weekend had Kasha (unexpectedly) spending the night. I knew like 2 hours before she actually landed up and it was much fun. Cheered me up a huge deal, as in lookie people I have a friend, and that's a big deal for me, cause I've mostly been a fence sitter as far as the whole have-a-bunch-of-friends thing goes.

Sunday for the first time in my adult(haha) life I had a nice chat with my Mum, it wasn't related to the future or what I should focus on etc etc. I was actually telling her about books I like and what kind I like and which people I like and how I talk to them about different things etc etc...and after a while she gets this vacant expression and I said, 'Am I boring you?' and she said 'No, you're surprising me.'

Monday I acted like a ladila lady who lunches. Woke up 12ish and met up with Fly. We had awesome cheap food though it felt strangely like a date, because I picked her up from college, we went, ate, and I dropped her back and we sat in the car talking for awhile. She gives the best answers to watsup...she looks thoughtfully into the distance with finger on chin and says..hang on wait, something must've happened, wait it'll come to me. (heehee - not funny? no? sorry)

THen, I fretted over a test whihc I studies for. I swear to god tests bring out the absolute worst in me, I really don't minbd studying but as soon as there's a test looming in the future I switch off and that fucking sucks because I end up bombing them. Season finale of weeds, Quinn is back - killer episode.

And today, for a change we hung out in my side of town which is oddly reassuring, and it's a market I've been tens and thousands of times before with Mum and Dad but with phrands we ate at this place I didn't even know existed, and had perfectly yummy Mughalai (not Panju) cheap food. Jeez priorities I tell you..

Argh, this whole post has been about recounting stuff I've been doing and if you made it through the snore fest, the lack of proper posts in blamed on the rain.

Pocket full of Sunshine

There are some people who you know, always keep their phone with them and will reply to a message within five minutes, like Kasha; so apart from being my phraand she's also my message buddy.

There are some people who you know check their mail everyday or maybe twice a day and will reply to an email within hours, like Fly, so she's my msn/gmail buddy, apart from being my BFF(private joke.)

Then there are people who read your message but take ages, maybe days to reply; who will let your call ring and ring and then say oh, my phone was flung across the room, etc etc - like me. I'm sick of making excuses and lying and avoiding calls. Guess there are some people who don't always pick up our calls and we have the upper hand with some people who'll call and we can decide not to pick up. Or something...

Anyway, I had a good day today, inspite of 3 traffic jams, THREE. Had a nice long chat with my grandparents and it was one of those days when they were talking about themselves as young people which is always wonderful to hear. Plus I had a full inbox and emails for all over, which made me smiley AND most importabtly, inspite of my dismal overall result, the marksheet which I received today says that indeed I have got 36 out of 38 in the ONE paper I studied for so I'm feeling mighty pleased with myself. (heehee, kaha se kaha)

Also, other stuff which I've been trying to get out of, is sorting itself now, and I can just relax and do my own thing and be with people I actually like and make PLANS, which I'd almost forgotten how to do.

On the movie front, I have been watching almost 2 a day, most recently saw My left Foot, The Prestige, Y Tu Mama Tambein (absolutely lovely even without the several nude scenes), Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Son of Rambow (the humour of which I totally did not get) and several others.

Besides a threatening to rain, slightly breezy day, nice :) All is right with the world.

The Opening Ceremony

Watching the Olympic Opening Ceremony filled me with much feeling, somewhere in my toes - a little bit of wonder, of melancholy even. Apart from shouting out the capitals as the delegates of the countries walked by, the whole thing made sense, it seemed right. These were real people; all those countries aren't just coloured jigsaw pieces in an atlas with a short para about their stats. Just seeeing so many different faces each more handsome than the other, a nose from Denmark, blonde hair from Slovakia, a wide smile from the Marshall Islands, a costume from Bahrain, a whole cheering party from Brazil. Face upon face, and in those snatches you can tell -he's gay and she has children, and he must be really popular with the ladies. You realise once more than there are so many, many more people in the world than just Americans, yet beause they control world media, all we see is Americans. A place like Las Vegas is mythologised because of Hollywood, but the rest of world has no big machine to make sketchy movie and bring them to a theatre near you.

The thing is that with an event such as the Olympics, an event so huge and involving so many people, even by virtue of simply witnessing it, you are complicit with its politics. With the fact that Taiwan was introduced as Chinese Taiwan. That Palestine sent their own delegates, so atleast they're recognised, but Tibet isn't. That Pakistan got a huge cheer, because an enemy of your enemy is your friend - or some archaic logic like that. As did Iraq, because we destroyed them and are now content to give them a good natured pat on the back.

Athletes, and sports reflect everything that's right in the world, about the purpose of our bodies, and they don't matter in the long run, they really don't. Watching them wave to the dignitaries from their country on the other side of the bulletproof enclosure mades me wonder, who decides whihc side you're on? Like if you were a princess say, a nominal head, you'd just go from one token event to the other on governement money and wave and smile but what have you REALLY done except be born? These people, they've practiced and worked and worked; they have real accomplishments. It's them I want to see, not faux celebrities. It's them folks doing the lap that are the stars and rightly so. They can wave and smile as much as they want, I'll cheer till I'm hoarse.

Suitcase of memories

I believe familiarity is a sign of wealth. Wealth when it comes to life, to living.

A fine lady, would have a regular tailor who knows the exact shape of her body, her trickiest measurements, and doesn’t need to take them over and over. Who notices she shrinks as she grows older, and makes the blouses smaller. To whom she brings her daughter for her first sari blouse.

And a jeweller, from where they make their big buys, once every year or so. Through the latest trends they keep pieces waiting for her but when her son wants to pick out an engagement ring for his girlfriend; she takes him there for the classic diamond knock out.

A man then, will have a banker, who does all the tedious paper work, efficiently, happily. A mechanic, who knocks a couple hundred off the bill after the regular servicing. When his daughter has her first bang-up learning how to drive, he gets angry with her, but they have a little chortle, the mechanic and him, there were many jokes on that one oh there were.

And the other family who's been with them for years and who knows when to get the hot water bottle and the right temperature of tea, who are well looked after and their children seen through school and onto bigger better things. Who’ll mow the garden and plant the flower seeds and take care of the dogs when they go out of town.

As they grow older, this fine lady and gentleman, they’ll need their old doctor of course. Who’ll listen with gentle patience to them, who’s delivered their kids and is now old himself. So he refers them to better, younger doctors but they go back to him for a last and final opinion.

They walk into Blue Diamond. He nods at the tabla player, a namastey; the next song is his favourite ghazal. Somewhere else in the city, at a nightclub, their son nods at the DJ and shakes hands with the bartender. A bartender who knows his drink and in the thickest crowd will get to him first.

A bookstore then for me, a perfect one which I’ll love with all my heart. Placed somewhere to bring in minimum of tourist traffic, a place where you can sit and read and not pay. I know there’s a store out there that’s just waiting for me to walk into it.

You can say familiarity is a step away from boredom, from the same old same old, but I’ll take it any day.

There are other things to experiment with, newer things to try out - like brand of cigarettes, and shampoos maybe but not hairstyles. Everything art related. Every place in the world. For that I have my muddy travelling boots under the armchair, but everything else I like in its own place.

Before I met You

It's small things readers, the tiniest of them -

like an extra library card

~like that whole bunch of giggling men hesitating to step on an escalator, and I want those virginities back for myself, and I know, like I've always known, that I'll live somewhere far away from all this.

~if you're not in class, having someone message saying - where are you?

~or driving all the way back home with stoner music on and not being conscious of the fact and when you pull up to park, the spell breaks and you go, how'd I get here?

~using a word, a new cuss word and all of a sudden everyone's using it, dingbats

~remebering oh yes, today is tuesday and there must be a new episode of weeds waiting on isohunt.

~the greet of airconditioned air over your sweat rivulets

above all, food and rest.

Because I know what to take seriously and he's not one of them. It's with birds of the same feather, that I can talk aloud, think aloud and that's when I feel the most natural, at my best. It's when people joke around, put you down, reduce everything to 'bookish' or 'quiet' that I feel vacant, not uncomfortable but irrevocably different from them. Becasue I don't want to explain myself.

I want to put a bandaid over my life. My toe nail came off, and all I had to do was put a plaster on it to press it down and let it just be by itself while the new one grows. That's exactly what I want for my life right now. There is too much going on, too quickly and all this that I'm learning, I might just lose it if I don't sit and write it down, or talk, or consolidate it into an opinion, that becomes mine alone and not something I read somewhere.

For that I need a really sticky plaster.

For Shane and Silis.

She sits with her legs crossed in yogic postition, tablets of cannbis in her jeweled box, beaded curtains around her. Horrible sickly incense clouds the red floor lamps and loud strains of Metallica float around, I bow, almost kneel as I enter.

"Blog Goddess?" I timidly beseech.

"I've been expecting you," her voice quietly booms.

"Err, umm.., it's just that I've come to collect my blogpost, there seems to be a problem, but I have been waiting and waiting for some kind of update to materialise and so far I have received nothing."

She stares into the distance passively, "Let's start with the most mundane, what did you do with your puny existence today?"

"Saw Hancock and went for a swim. Should I blog about the empty theatre and how these bloody popcorn movies are insulting us, squeezing our brain cells untill they're mere single cells."

"Who wants to know about that bugger, its not like you made a movie did you? You think anyone gives a shit about the one line you write about some one movie which everyone has already seen."

"Possibly, but there was this girl at the pool whom I totally recognised as a junior from my school but while I was busy avoiding her and averting my eyes elsewhere, she approched me and said Are you el and did you go to S. School? and I said yaaaa..really slowly, and she's like oh I'm so and so and I was like get out, no way, even though I knew exactly who she was I pretended to be surprised and oh, I never realised."

"And I care because?.."

"Blogs are so fucking one dimensional you know, text-image-links. Maybe I'll recycle some old pictures, pass em off as new. "

"Oh no you didn't. Blog about blogging, and then you come in my house and insult me?"

Sorry?

Maybe you could write about your college which has reclaimed it's sweaty time consuming place in your life.

Two words, no V.

You're kidding right? Are you honestly that delusional? You didn't even know him till a while back and suddenly everything's seen in context to him. So, same motherfuckers walking the corridors?

Check.

Still clueless about the future?

Check.

Allright then, you, have nothing to say, I'm bumping you off.

No, no, how about the yummilicious momos I'm eating right now, hot hot hot steamed chicken, with red chilli sauce that is all chilli and no sauce.

Girl I've got tablets, I mean huge tablets of this stuff and you're talking to me about food? One last shot, what song you listening to?

Harry and the Potters - Stick it to Dolores

Get the fuck out of my office.

Here I Go Again

You can't decide when you have a good time, when you meet new people, where the day takes you. Some folks you establish are interesting but they may or may not become your friends and that's when I wonder, what do people think of me? That's the only time I'm conscious that, you know, I'm not a vampire and I must have a reflection. Or do I?

So I had this nice morning planned, would wake up, go for a swim, get a haircut and then go meet my lovely friends Shai and Fly. However, due to unforseen circumstances, mainly my stupid ass body sleeping through several alarms, I was fast asleep at the time I was supposed to meet them and had to hurry, hurry, rush, rush as usual. Fuck I hate that, maybe its an inborn rebellion to my fauji-precision-clockwork genes, but I simply cannot be someplace on time. Thing is in the morning, every second counts, and after dinner, one hour here or there makes no difference. Sure you owls would agree.

Anyway, day still went off well. Lunch was good, I love my friends and I also love being alone and sometimes in life you get a perfect balance, and today was such a day. Madonna(because they have the same teeth) also joined us, and he and me have this mutual appreaciation society thing going, we both say nice things about each other and refrain from the other stuff, because he's one of those people that you have obvious and huge differences of opinion with, but that's ok, he is he and I am me, and in the end, I know I can count on him, and I know I'll totally come through for him, if need be and vice versa.

(Oh, but Rohan, no same teeth anymore! :D)

Also, maanged to get my haircut. While coolio dude cut away, in the parlour, there was a lady/woman getting ready for her wedding, full bridal make up, hairdo etc. and sure, she was pretty, with a busty magenta top, red cartoon nails(not even vampish) with rotting brown mehendi (haai, haai) and her friends were fluttering around her, and I'm thinking the last thing I want to do on my wedding day is spend hours in a beauty parluor - you know?

I'm not a big one for days, like I hate birthdays, not because I'm emo or anything, I just hate all the hoo haah and pressure to do something on that day. So what would I do? Let's see, I'd like to wake up without an alarm clock, with sun on my face, and immediately have something chocolate. Then, hit the pool, you know those whole body floats? Yea, float on the water, sun myself, nap whatever, have something to read, this I'll have to plan very carefully, definitely not the newspaper, because I'm sure for the rest of life I'll remember, on page 3 the mcd head something said something about potholes. I'm kooky that way.

When I'm all deliciously wet and the sun is drying the water drops off, have fresh watermelon and grape juice, french fries(oily not deep fried) and maybe chicken-mayo-capsicum sandwiches. Then a rollercoater ride, or several, and paint ball and in the evening we can dress up and go somehwere nice, or do whatever he wants to. But avoid people at all costs. I'd love for my parents to have a big party in their house, with the lawn and fairy lights and everyone can 'congratulate the happy couple' but maybe sometime the week after.

What about you guys?

Incidentally, downloaded lotsa 80s love songs, just because, and have been blasting Can't Fight This feeling(REO Speedwagon), Whitesnake, The Bangles, Cherish (Kool and the Gang) , Dangelo and The Temptaions. heehee, I've also always had this neighbour thing. Like in the previous house we lived in, it was two floors, downstairs people had a lawn and we got a terrace, and this dude, Jha, used to make all his phone conversations from the garden, he'd smoke, talk loudly, and scratch his you-know-what when he thought no one was watching(ewwww I know.) My study table was right next to his window and trust me when I tell you I knew EVERYTHING going on in his life, no kidding, from his friends to his hassles with his parents, to the girlfriend to his job(pilot, waddya expect).

There was a point to this..oh yeah, so like I knew everything about Jha without him having any idea, I have this fantasy that somebodys always listening to the music I play. Almost like I DJ for some invisible folk down below. Don't get me wrong, I play for myself, but maybe someone will have huge overlapping tastes and come searching for my door, and we can hangout and burn CDs for each other and stuff.

Hmm..too many movies.

Go Rafa, Espania - ole ole ole!

Right, excuzi for the double post but, I am reeling right now with stuff to say.

What a final, this is why we love tennis, this is why people spend hours on hours practising and what champions. Delirious.

So as I was happily watching the match(wimbledon final - Rafael Nadal vs. Roger Federer for those who're not so into it) with Rafa 2 sets up, he(Shaan) really sweetly calls and starts talking about the match, no hi hello. For a once-in-a-month chat friend it's quite nice that he knows, just assumes that I will (duh) be watching the game, and it's one of those moments when we're talking and I can hear the shouting and TV ads on his end of the line and in my living room as well. It's also ironical because there's no signal in the TV room and Il'l have to get up and go to the balcony to talk to him and he's like tie break and I'm like oh fuck no, call you back.. Its nice that he thinks of me you know? And its a foolproof thing, if you want to talk to a guy, follow the club he loves or watch the match he's watching.

Anyway, weird thing - both Rafas Uncle Tony and Mirka(Fed's gf) were sitting in same box. So both the players keep looking up at the same box and when Rafa gets an edge, Uncle gets up and starts yelling and when Fed wins a point, Mirka starts thumping the box and you can almost hear Tony cursing at the back. And did anyone notice a most Jude Law like person sitting on Mirkas eft? Was confused and then I spot Gwen (Stefani) on his left and look, its Gwen and Gavin! (oh man how I love Bush. Infact, first heard of the band, waaay before the president. ) Gavin was so into the game and Gwen was just like, 5 hours of my life, there they go, never to return. Mirka too, was really feeling it; usually she sits tight lipped (can't help it if the girl has thin lips) but she was all cringing and stuff and and when I saw her, I was like come on Rafa, you can't let Mirka take out her digi cam and click pictures of Roger making out with the trophy, again. (ok, mean, but you understand right, this moment has been five long, long years in the making.)

Also, just when Rafa is taking the lead, inching closer to championship point, and he can feel it, and the crowd feels it and you can feel it and you look at Federer's face and it's so rondu and for half a second you feel bad for him and then he goes and hits a winner, and you're like no, no Rafa, just wrap it up, close the deal, COME ON. And when Rafa got the break 8-7, Venus who was watching stood up and started clapping and I'm sitting stock still becasue I have this dumb jinx idea that if I move, it'll change the tides. 6-4, 6-4, 6-7, 6-7, 9-7, my god, what a match.

But Rafa won! And because the match went on so long, someone must have politely mumbled in Prince Philip's ear to keep it short, and so he didn't talk to any of the ball boys/girls forming the corridor as he usually does. 2 years back when he slaughtered Andy, he chatted with the ball girl for a good 5 minutes, the match was SUCH a no show, got over in like an hour and a half or something.

Also, I love the woman who interviews them after the ceremony, though this time she didn't address his highness Prince Philip, maybe cause the Prince and Princess of Spain where there was well? Who knows about the delicate matters of royal protocol? Regardless of the question she asks them, both of them say the same thing, first answer - say something funnyish, or rather self effacing, they'll laugh anyways and acknowledge the crowd. Second answer - say what a fantastic player your opponent was, how deserving, which seems all jolly but it's actually rubbing it in. Trust me.

And like the humble guy Federer is he starts taking a lap of honour, and everyone's like wtf? Sit quietly while Rafa does that. One thing though, if Fed's a rondu winner, he's a very graceful loser, that you have to hand to him. He tried very hard not to cry and he managed.

What a night. Whew, winding down slowly..

Take it, take another little piece of my heart.

My sister's birthday is coming and it's as terrific an opportunity as any other to buy books which I want to read and gift wrap for her. Lucky we more or less read the same stuff or rather I bulldoze her into reading what I recommend. Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld, fantastic people, nice little book I stumbled on thanks to fly and I think there's something in its awkwardness that exists in all of us, especially if we dish out a blog post every week or so.

While planning her party, we decided on Chinese food which somehow brought back a memory of this store in Pune from where we'd get Chinese take away frood. I used to be fascinated by this place, it wasn't a restaurant in a market, it was just a take away shop literally in the middle of nowhere. It was so noisy and steamy and small and they'd take your order and pin it up on a rope and it would be ready robotically in minutes. So numbskullsister and me would play 'takeaway' with our puzzle pieces and mix them around in a tokri. The only plausible explanation for a tokri in our house I think could be because we were living in Maharashtra after all. (egad, images of kim sharma as a fisherwoman are coming to me after those 5 horrifying minutes of some random movie which permanently and irrevocably burned some of my brain cells.)

Also donated blood today! Yee haw, did it for the cool red tshirt we all know, and while I was lying there pumping my fist tiredly instead of feeling righteous as I should have, I was like dude, I just have a needle in my arm, someone who needs this is going to have all their bones smashed in . Count your blessings, name them one by one, thank the Lord for what he has done, kept playing in my head.

On a crankier note though, I am being forced to go out to my mothers friends house for dinner. She has this daughter whose a couple of years older than me, looks and dresses like a model, and has had sex several times with several different boys and was caught in school with her bra undone, which is public knowledge to everyone except apparently our mothers and mum dearest insists she's such a nice girl, I should try and be friends with her. Fuck, glad they're all so in sync. I'm sorry, not that there's anything wrong with her but some people I just can't take seriosuly, and she's one of them.

Something I'm really beginning to believe in though is All In Good Time, truly, life eventually calms itself down and things happen in their own time. When I was in middle school, in Bangalore, I always always wanted to become a senior prefect, not head girl becasue that was so passe but house captain, because that meant something, and I loved my house captain, she was so cool man, she'd run the captains relay on sports day, and march with the house flag. She'd sit on the steps of the canteen (for seniors only) with all these boys and I'd always wonder which one she liked. She'd come to my class and ask for me and badger me into taking part in elocution or something which I gladly did for her. It was so cool the way they'd stay back after shcool, and make those charts and practice for house competitions and stuff, and the 11th and 12thies were allowed to come on their bikes and so casually afterwards they'd zip off to some place to eat.

I left though, and I had no idea untill I was away how fucking impressionable I'd been. I got to be house captain of another school though and it meant shite, really it meant nada to me, which is not as awful as it sounds, it just was that way.

*Remember those shiny coloured Add-Gel pens in 1999? They were such a rage and I had a purple one and wrote LP in big bold letters on my arm and walked all over school one day. At band practice after school, Music Captain comes in and after he does his 'duty' and yells at us for not practising hard or long enough, he hangs around to chat and he says, so you're all into heavy rock and metal and all? and I'm like no ya, just Linkin Park, he's like what's the name of their album. FUck! I didnt know, lol, but anyway, Dad took me on a sunday, to music world I think, not the (then) new Planet M on Brigade Road, and I bought Just Push Play (Aerosmith) and Hybrid Theory and on the way back in the car, dad suggested that I play the tapes, and I slowly, delaying it as much as possible, unwrap the flimsy plastic wrapping and Papercut starts up..the sun goes down, I feel the light betray me, I hastily ejected and put aerosmith in which was no better, but thankfully we reached back because then you could actaully drive around in Bangalore and reach places in minutes not hours. Atleast it wasn't Public Service Announcement on the Marshall Mathers LP.

So into Jaded was I that when we came to Delhi on our summer holiday, on the customary annual visit to Dilli Haat, instead of yet another name necklace, I had jaded written with those alphabet beads, and Dad says do you even know what it means? I didn't.

Man, I was quite the emo kid. Today though, I'm somehow very happy to be me.

May Angels Lead You In

Car got towed, which was total bullshit, I went to the COLONY market, which is like 5 feet away from home (yea, yea environmentally treacherous etc) stepped out for 2 minutes and when I came out no little zen standing under tree, had to then go to the police station and pay 200 bucks, no challan, what bull. Also upgraded my RAM - all by myself and was smothered by the dust inside the CPU and, best of all learnt the caribbean capitals, so feeling most gangsta.

Some tennis talk now, skip if you're not into it -

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Andys match was such rubbish I tell you, I admit now what they've been saying for years, he was no variety in his shots, he moves really poorly on court and simply has nothing to fall back on except his serve. Plus what drama - baazi he was doing on court just becasue he was winning and a certain girlfriend was watching. Like yelling at himself and making faces when he's 2 games way from victory. Poof.

Go Safin! (yaay fly) People are like oh you support him because he's hot, so not true, that guy is the original and last of the mavericks. Honestly he doesn't care about what's proper, about being scoff, consistent. He can come out of nowhere and win. Incidentally, he's not a very good player when he's winning, he's fantastic when he's losing, him and Baghdatis, watch them play when they're 2 sets down. They get this super human strength and gun for every ball though they've been playing for hours and hours. Good Wimbledon it looks like and don't feel too bad about Novak, he's just starting out in his career and you can't be a number one player unless you've been thrashed by Safin, that's just how it goes.

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Right, so if life fails us or we fail life or whatever, we have to have a back up job right, like what would you do to get by and be happy doing?

El presents My List of Alternate Job Options

Driver, no kidding, think I can manage this well, esp. to an old couple, take him for golf, her to the parlour, club, whatever and at night for their parties. Park the car, road gaze, do what I wantfor 20 hours a day.

Setup an Illegal Parking Ticket Thing - Start handing out tickets wherever they're cars parked. Take 10 bucks per car, pay off cops if necessary, get protection from street gangs*(lol) if needed and eventually hire my own parking attendents and make money by advertisemets placed on their uniforms.

Bake - Don't know how successful I'll be because my cookies sure are fine but take forever and a lot of effort to make, and think I might get sick of chocloate by the end of it. Which would de disastrous for my happiness and self confidence but overall better fro my waist. So might have to do a pro con list before take this one on.

Word Whore - something like Florentino, write love letters for people who can't "expess themselves", or maybe be a word-on-hire, be a pimp or sorts, write out personal letters, break up messages, threatening notes, stuff like that.

Door to Door Movie CD Lender(or CD walli in short)- and when I was thinking about this, I became so excited that I might just do it. I already have a considerable database and anyway half the time I'm giving movies to people, so it is totally realistic. You want any? I'm only doing distribution don't ask me about my sources, that's confidential. :D

edit - also maybe teach piano, like at a very rudimentary level, my theory is pretty solid and I can fluff a lot if rich kids prents are wiling to dish.

So got myself covered I think.

Glory Days, pass me by.

Life is peachy folks, spiffy, bathed in sun streaming in through the clouds. Reminds me of that last month of school before the summer holidays, when I was 11 or something. For all my life and all of hers, my mother has worked and I've always reached home before she has, as in there was never a reception committee waiting at the bus stop like other kids, thangod. That summer though, she'd taken a month off, and when I'd get home, my icky uniform shirt stuck to my back with sweat, my heavy tearing bag full of useless books that I'd carry around including a fat dictionary, my hair all puffed up and hairband dangling along to one side, she'd answer the door.

The house would be cool for starters, the curtains would be drawn against the afternon sunlight and mum would give us first cold water, then food, which we'd actually sit at the table and have and not in front of the TV. Then watermelon, and an afternoon nap after. Ah, the all-is-right-with-the-world feeling.

In the holidays, she'd leave before we were awake, and when I did get up and go to brush my teeth, I'd see a big fat lipstick mark on my cheek, because you know, she kissed us goodbye.

Anway, joy is hibernating. It's staying at home and watching three seasons of weeds in a row. Fantastic I tell you. An american TV show you never knew existed and turns out to be so goddamn clever. That my friends is utopia, with no one bothering me, and becasue I'm only listening to these characters smack talking, in my head I start talking like them. And when I meet people in real life I can't think of anything to say to them except, um...I'm watching Weeds.

Right so some guys are just plain sexy, they have this charm that you can't define, can't catch or bottle, like Sloan you know, on Greys Anatomy, very irrestible, even when they aren't saying anything, you just keep looking a them and Justin Kirk (or Andy on Weeds) is one such fellow.

What else? Cooking Chocolate. That's the thing to eat. As mentioned earlier, nada oven, nada baking, so all supplies are going into tummy as raw material. Personally, I think cooking choclate is the real stuff, far superior than any wrapped thing I've had, tis not too sweet, plus its a proper huge slab and I've been gnawing away at it.

Favourite line these days - "that's a bit too populist for my taste." Speaking of which was watching 'left of centre' on VH1 which is supposed to be the original sidestream stuff, I hardly think Nine Inch Nails or Kasabian can be called offbeat, LCD soundsystem maybe. Besides everyone knows that them emo and indie kids are making the most money now.


In parting, I like the word exponential, not in maths(idiotic exponential differetiation) but like exponential growth in blog traffic. hee :D