I realized only today that there are people who've signed up as followers fairly recently. You slavedrivers expect me to write more, eh? Drive me. I need it for things beyond completing college assignments and consuming daal. Yellow, unchanging, diversified forms of daal. I love daal. How could I not? Bah. Digression.
I'm surprised people want to read stuff I've written over the last 2 years and continue to. Genuine surprise but it feels nice. Thanking you'll is stupid, you aren't reading to do me a favour. But nice toh it remains. Just saying.
So yeah, there was this college assignment due for Creative Writing last October - a new blog. I kindasortamaybe cheated in that some posts on that blog were sourced from this one. It's still stuff I wrote and edited, right? Yeaaaah! Thank you. Oh but the template's happier and even though I like this url better, that's there too.. it's a direct lift and yet it isn't. Heck, I named it the same. *judges own lack of originality. decides to call it "brand loyalty". take that, bitches!*
That's where I've been posting ever since. Posting irregularly, in no more than spurts, but posting nonetheless.
Am I getting you to follow 2 blogs to slyly take up my Followers tally? Gah. I stopped checking that long back. Right when I figured I was writing mediocre things on a public forum that I don't market anyway. Feels weird but I'm learning to sell what I do. I'm selling myself! =O
And getting marked for it.
Blessed BMM.
Ask about the resume I made for Brand Communications. I feel invaded, on a certain level. Like I've been invaded, not my privacy, you read that right.
Haan so getting to the point! Fucking digression. The man I keep was right. This is the blog. Where I Doodle, college edition. On your pretty page, waiting to be "discovered", read and perhaps thought about. Feedback is always welcome. lyfbrat prompted this post and in turn lit up your Reader. Be nice.
Oh and that bit about selling stubborn in/un/non-creativity and calling it brand loyalty? Bhenchod I might just manage to survive (not stay sane) in media. I find I'm capable of thinking like them.
Showing posts with label Around You And Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Around You And Me. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Presenting All that Is Average
Showed up in the Drafts folder, you might as well rush through it :)
Today, I went to church. We were singing the hymn 665. Out of curiosity, I looked to see which church song deserved number 666. It was missing. MLIA
Today, I went with my mom to a furniture store. I was bored, so I just sat on a chair the whole time. Two elderly ladies came in and stared at me, talking to each other, trying to determine if I was real or not. MLIA
Today, I was in the AT&T store with my sister. I tried texting my own cell phone from one of the ones on display, and it actually worked. Later on, I saw a younger girl looking at the same cell phone I had used. I sent the phone a text reading, "Buy me." I don't think she caught on, but her totally shocked expression was priceless. MLIA.
Today, I was asked to substitute for a grade 9 geography class. They were learning about Inuit culture and had to watch a movie. About half way through, an adorable Inuit baby came on screen, laughing and running around. A boy in the front of the class then proceed to raise his hand and ask why the baby was laughing in English. Life fail? I think so. MLIA.
Today, I was waiting at the grocery store for my friend when a woman walked through the electronic door and froze in place. I heard her mutter to herself, "What did I come here for?" I called out to her, "Toilet paper! Milk! Bananas!" She looked at me and said "BANANAS! That's a great idea!" and dashed off. I saw her later, walking through the store. Her arms were full of bananas. MLIA.
Today I was making a craft project that used different colors of wool. I couldn't tell wether one bit was black or dark blue, so I held it up to my face and sniffed it. I then realized that I lack the ability to smell color. MLIA
Today, I was in a restaraunt using my knife to make a reflection on the ceiling and move it in erratic patterns until I realised the girl two tables away was doing the same thing. We then spent over five minutes playing Tag with our cutlery reflections. We're going out on Friday. MLIA
Today, I was using the bathroom in a restaurant. While I was doing my business, I considered the "Knick Knack Patty Whack" song. I suddenly realized that it goes to the same tune of the "I Love You" song from Barney. I was so shocked that I gasped very loudly just before the automatic flusher went off. A little girl in the stall next to me said "These potties scare me too." MLIA
Today my family was eating dinner. My step mom set down potato salad on the table. I thought about it for a while and realized that I like like potatoes, and I like salad, but when their forces combine...I completely hate it. I told this thought to my sister and without skipping a beat she said, "That's exactly how I feel about camel toes."
Today my computer was saying that it could not detect my keyboard. It then proceeded to ask me to press F1 to continue. MLIA
Today, I was sitting in the park and saw a guy walking a turtle. The turtle had a leash. MLIA
Today, I took a math test which I found really easy, so I drew an "A" at the top and put it in chains, with the words "free him" next to it. When I got it back, my teacher had drawn scissors cutting the chains and wrote congratulations. How did scissors cut metal chains? MLIA.
Today, my biology teacher passed out our quiz. About ten minutes into the quiz, almost everyone in the room was laughing uncontrollably. Why? We are studying genetics, and my teacher decided to use two students in the problem on the second part of the quiz. Apparently, these two "never wanted kids, but after experiencing how fun it was to make babies, they had three." They were sitting next to each other in class. I didn't know that two people's faces could get so red. MLIA
Last week at family christmas, my grandma asked me when I was getting married, trying to guilt me by saying she's not going to be around forever and she wants to see one more grandchild get married. I'm still in college and haven't though much about marriage, replied I'd get married when my boyfriend asks me while dressed as Prince Charming. Apparently my grandma told my boyfriend and today I was proposed to by Prince Charming, and I'm now engaged. MLIA
Today, I was reading MLIA to see if my story had made the website. Everytime I saw "Today," I got excited thinking it was my story. It wasn't. MLIA
For more.
Today, I went to church. We were singing the hymn 665. Out of curiosity, I looked to see which church song deserved number 666. It was missing. MLIA
Today, I went with my mom to a furniture store. I was bored, so I just sat on a chair the whole time. Two elderly ladies came in and stared at me, talking to each other, trying to determine if I was real or not. MLIA
Today, I was in the AT&T store with my sister. I tried texting my own cell phone from one of the ones on display, and it actually worked. Later on, I saw a younger girl looking at the same cell phone I had used. I sent the phone a text reading, "Buy me." I don't think she caught on, but her totally shocked expression was priceless. MLIA.
Today, I was asked to substitute for a grade 9 geography class. They were learning about Inuit culture and had to watch a movie. About half way through, an adorable Inuit baby came on screen, laughing and running around. A boy in the front of the class then proceed to raise his hand and ask why the baby was laughing in English. Life fail? I think so. MLIA.
Today, I was waiting at the grocery store for my friend when a woman walked through the electronic door and froze in place. I heard her mutter to herself, "What did I come here for?" I called out to her, "Toilet paper! Milk! Bananas!" She looked at me and said "BANANAS! That's a great idea!" and dashed off. I saw her later, walking through the store. Her arms were full of bananas. MLIA.
Today I was making a craft project that used different colors of wool. I couldn't tell wether one bit was black or dark blue, so I held it up to my face and sniffed it. I then realized that I lack the ability to smell color. MLIA
Today, I was in a restaraunt using my knife to make a reflection on the ceiling and move it in erratic patterns until I realised the girl two tables away was doing the same thing. We then spent over five minutes playing Tag with our cutlery reflections. We're going out on Friday. MLIA
Today, I was using the bathroom in a restaurant. While I was doing my business, I considered the "Knick Knack Patty Whack" song. I suddenly realized that it goes to the same tune of the "I Love You" song from Barney. I was so shocked that I gasped very loudly just before the automatic flusher went off. A little girl in the stall next to me said "These potties scare me too." MLIA
Today my family was eating dinner. My step mom set down potato salad on the table. I thought about it for a while and realized that I like like potatoes, and I like salad, but when their forces combine...I completely hate it. I told this thought to my sister and without skipping a beat she said, "That's exactly how I feel about camel toes."
Today my computer was saying that it could not detect my keyboard. It then proceeded to ask me to press F1 to continue. MLIA
Today, I was sitting in the park and saw a guy walking a turtle. The turtle had a leash. MLIA
Today, I took a math test which I found really easy, so I drew an "A" at the top and put it in chains, with the words "free him" next to it. When I got it back, my teacher had drawn scissors cutting the chains and wrote congratulations. How did scissors cut metal chains? MLIA.
Today, my biology teacher passed out our quiz. About ten minutes into the quiz, almost everyone in the room was laughing uncontrollably. Why? We are studying genetics, and my teacher decided to use two students in the problem on the second part of the quiz. Apparently, these two "never wanted kids, but after experiencing how fun it was to make babies, they had three." They were sitting next to each other in class. I didn't know that two people's faces could get so red. MLIA
Last week at family christmas, my grandma asked me when I was getting married, trying to guilt me by saying she's not going to be around forever and she wants to see one more grandchild get married. I'm still in college and haven't though much about marriage, replied I'd get married when my boyfriend asks me while dressed as Prince Charming. Apparently my grandma told my boyfriend and today I was proposed to by Prince Charming, and I'm now engaged. MLIA
Today, I was reading MLIA to see if my story had made the website. Everytime I saw "Today," I got excited thinking it was my story. It wasn't. MLIA
For more.
Wherein I Theorize
That panel on your right, the one that calls itself Labels? It lies. I've been so full of moods lately, 9 is a bad bad bad BAD misapproximation. The last few posts are proof. So anyway, I figured I'd let the rambling be and embark on another topic close to my heart. Theories. The sort few know about and fewer care to know. But laa la laa, this is my blog and hence, know you will!
To commence proceedings, there is my RockStar theory. A personal favourite. So. Some folks idolize 'rockstars', some tolerate them and only the tiniest minority ever ignores them. Rockstars are cool, period. And you know how it goes - If someone says they are, one must prove they aren't.
Consider rocks, whichever sort you fancy. All rocks -big rocks, small rocks, nice rocks, mean rocks, all rocks- start out as teeny tiny things. They get fatter, they grow older, they grow wiser and then they die. You with me? Right. Now as children we were told that on dying every goes right up and becomes a star. So stars are essentially rocks.
Now, every star -big star, small star, nice star, mean star, every star- starts out as a teeny tiny thing. It gets fatter, it grows older, it grows wiser and then it dies. But see, stars are cooler than rocks - they don't become starrier. They explode. Dhadaam! Crackle, sparkle, crackle. Sometimes, some fragments reach The Big Blue Barn and stay put. These, dear reader, are your rocks. And then they get fatter, grow older, grow wiser.. you get it.
Dust, kachra, stony stony tukdas. Rocks, stars. Rockstars, that's right. So when people talk of 'da rokkkstarzz', they're basically talking recycled dust and grime. And minerals and all, yes. Rocks are inanimate, we could go someplace with that but then they wouldn't be allowed to die and my entire theory would have to be reworked. Nyet nyet. Still, between you and me, rockstars suddenly seem so uncool, yeah yeah yeah? :P
Wherein I Warn:
Talk not of how you don't believe the going up to become a star story. You did as a kid, I'm telling you you did. And if you still believe that story.. hell, talk not at all! Talk not of how rockstars (the gaana waalas) come and go just like rocks and stars do. Talk not of how I bungled up with "bad bad bad BAD misapproximation" - 5 negatives make a negative, I didn't screw up. Talk not, not ever, if you believe this was reason to kickstart a serious 'discussion' about anything at all.
All ye rocks, all ye stars, I grudge you not your happiness.
To commence proceedings, there is my RockStar theory. A personal favourite. So. Some folks idolize 'rockstars', some tolerate them and only the tiniest minority ever ignores them. Rockstars are cool, period. And you know how it goes - If someone says they are, one must prove they aren't.
Consider rocks, whichever sort you fancy. All rocks -big rocks, small rocks, nice rocks, mean rocks, all rocks- start out as teeny tiny things. They get fatter, they grow older, they grow wiser and then they die. You with me? Right. Now as children we were told that on dying every goes right up and becomes a star. So stars are essentially rocks.
Now, every star -big star, small star, nice star, mean star, every star- starts out as a teeny tiny thing. It gets fatter, it grows older, it grows wiser and then it dies. But see, stars are cooler than rocks - they don't become starrier. They explode. Dhadaam! Crackle, sparkle, crackle. Sometimes, some fragments reach The Big Blue Barn and stay put. These, dear reader, are your rocks. And then they get fatter, grow older, grow wiser.. you get it.
Dust, kachra, stony stony tukdas. Rocks, stars. Rockstars, that's right. So when people talk of 'da rokkkstarzz', they're basically talking recycled dust and grime. And minerals and all, yes. Rocks are inanimate, we could go someplace with that but then they wouldn't be allowed to die and my entire theory would have to be reworked. Nyet nyet. Still, between you and me, rockstars suddenly seem so uncool, yeah yeah yeah? :P
Wherein I Warn:
Talk not of how you don't believe the going up to become a star story. You did as a kid, I'm telling you you did. And if you still believe that story.. hell, talk not at all! Talk not of how rockstars (the gaana waalas) come and go just like rocks and stars do. Talk not of how I bungled up with "bad bad bad BAD misapproximation" - 5 negatives make a negative, I didn't screw up. Talk not, not ever, if you believe this was reason to kickstart a serious 'discussion' about anything at all.
All ye rocks, all ye stars, I grudge you not your happiness.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Gods In The Himalayas Received Live Feed!
As a kid I had this firm belief that all we do throughout our lives is in accordance with a definite script. That every single person has a sharp, unconscious, built-in and regularly updated awareness of their role and that the very purpose of one’s existence was to act it all out to the satisfaction and amusement of immediate superiors. By ‘superiors’ I mean people with higher authority – in my world, that meant parents. And at every level, superiors decided the basic outline of the script their charges would enact.
The way I saw it, we were all theatre artists. And the ones who got to the big screen were the ones who made it big (with respect to others at the same level), which is why they were on the receiving end of all that fame and adulation, all that bhav. So just like we could go to Vishnudas Bhave Natyagraha and Prithvi Theatre to watch people enact certain stories, I figured our superiors were watching us too. Big Boss style, absolutely.
So you had the bachchas who were their parents’ puppets and so on until you exhausted living familial hierarchy; then came some mid level authority I never thought about; and at the very top of that controlling pyramid sat The Gods. Oh yeah, I was a believer back then, Dadi took care of that… I have fond memories of those times. No, don’t try it now.
Getting back to my story – which I believe you’re still somewhat interested in since you’re still reading :P – I used to visualize usually homogeneous pairs of Gods and Goddesses in stereotypical God/Goddess garb (flowing black hair (white for Brahma), loads of skin show, glitzy blingy ornaments, silky satiny rhinestone-studded clothes...) sitting on separate sofas that flanked a coffee table loaded with grub (they always always always had peanuts), laughing at the antics of us mortals as giant spools of real time recordings played on giant Videocon Bazooka screens. Laughing good naturedly, indulgently, never mockingly, but laughing nonetheless. Real time? Dunno how they did it man.. Even then, I could see how it was funny… I mean c’mon, you have all these humans falling over themselves to be promoted just some more, wanting to be in a position that allows them to decide the actions of so many others around them. By the time a global drama inclusive of all levels was actually put together, it was probably a holy comedy of errors. Pun, haha, pun.
I always wondered if tapes of the part I was enacting were important enough to be viewed by the Gods themselves or if they only reached the city-level authority for perfunctory checks and were then tossed aside. Never did quite manage to figure that out. Nor did I work out how the tapes reached the gods (Bluetooth ka baap?) or how scripts were communicated to us actors – we just knew what to do and went about doing what we had to, unaware of this twisted manipulation. Mind you, we experienced joy, frustration, ecstasy, sorrow, anger, embarrassment and just about every regular emotion you can think of while we were at it.
Doodlebug, a short film by Christopher Nolan and crew, was what brought this eerily vivid piece of imagination to the surface. Tried uploading but Mom's lappy doesn't seem to approve. Do look it up.
And just in case the idea of Hindu gods living on Indian land and ruling/governing/ manipulating/spying on the entire world offends you, my 5 yr old self apologizes. That was what I knew, okay? Apologies all the way from the bottom of my heart, all sincere.
PS – Please don’t start working out why my mind/imagination works the way it does/ the way it always has. You might be tempted to suggest I take up Management, seeing how I had pyramidal admin structures, checks and controls, authority and regulation all worked out at the age of 5. Don't. You might be tempted to probe tomes on Psychology and comment on my concept of the unconscious or reveal that it has to do with a repressed desire to control / act / manipulate / tell stories / eat peanuts. Speculate all you want, just don’t tell me. The way I bombed my Psychology end sem, I don’t think I’ll welcome anything connecting me and the subject for a long long time to come.
The way I saw it, we were all theatre artists. And the ones who got to the big screen were the ones who made it big (with respect to others at the same level), which is why they were on the receiving end of all that fame and adulation, all that bhav. So just like we could go to Vishnudas Bhave Natyagraha and Prithvi Theatre to watch people enact certain stories, I figured our superiors were watching us too. Big Boss style, absolutely.
So you had the bachchas who were their parents’ puppets and so on until you exhausted living familial hierarchy; then came some mid level authority I never thought about; and at the very top of that controlling pyramid sat The Gods. Oh yeah, I was a believer back then, Dadi took care of that… I have fond memories of those times. No, don’t try it now.
Getting back to my story – which I believe you’re still somewhat interested in since you’re still reading :P – I used to visualize usually homogeneous pairs of Gods and Goddesses in stereotypical God/Goddess garb (flowing black hair (white for Brahma), loads of skin show, glitzy blingy ornaments, silky satiny rhinestone-studded clothes...) sitting on separate sofas that flanked a coffee table loaded with grub (they always always always had peanuts), laughing at the antics of us mortals as giant spools of real time recordings played on giant Videocon Bazooka screens. Laughing good naturedly, indulgently, never mockingly, but laughing nonetheless. Real time? Dunno how they did it man.. Even then, I could see how it was funny… I mean c’mon, you have all these humans falling over themselves to be promoted just some more, wanting to be in a position that allows them to decide the actions of so many others around them. By the time a global drama inclusive of all levels was actually put together, it was probably a holy comedy of errors. Pun, haha, pun.
I always wondered if tapes of the part I was enacting were important enough to be viewed by the Gods themselves or if they only reached the city-level authority for perfunctory checks and were then tossed aside. Never did quite manage to figure that out. Nor did I work out how the tapes reached the gods (Bluetooth ka baap?) or how scripts were communicated to us actors – we just knew what to do and went about doing what we had to, unaware of this twisted manipulation. Mind you, we experienced joy, frustration, ecstasy, sorrow, anger, embarrassment and just about every regular emotion you can think of while we were at it.
Doodlebug, a short film by Christopher Nolan and crew, was what brought this eerily vivid piece of imagination to the surface. Tried uploading but Mom's lappy doesn't seem to approve. Do look it up.
And just in case the idea of Hindu gods living on Indian land and ruling/governing/ manipulating/spying on the entire world offends you, my 5 yr old self apologizes. That was what I knew, okay? Apologies all the way from the bottom of my heart, all sincere.
PS – Please don’t start working out why my mind/imagination works the way it does/ the way it always has. You might be tempted to suggest I take up Management, seeing how I had pyramidal admin structures, checks and controls, authority and regulation all worked out at the age of 5. Don't. You might be tempted to probe tomes on Psychology and comment on my concept of the unconscious or reveal that it has to do with a repressed desire to control / act / manipulate / tell stories / eat peanuts. Speculate all you want, just don’t tell me. The way I bombed my Psychology end sem, I don’t think I’ll welcome anything connecting me and the subject for a long long time to come.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Because I'm Competitive As Fuck & Only Just Realizing It :o
^ Earth Day
^ Hans Christian Anderson's 205th Birth Anniv
Because they're there :P
Friday, February 19, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Huggles!
I never say it, but I'll say it again - Oh my god!
I was browsing through the archives of a friend's blog (Improper Conduct) and chanced upon a Youtube video. Since I had the time to browse, I had the time to view.
She said it had her teary eyed. Well guess what, it had me bawling. Will you hold it against me if I say I bawl attractively? :P
Reaching out to so many people in such an awesome way is so heart warming.. and if that's something that doesn't agree with your sensibilities, just go hug your friends and family more often already. Think, you had one person on the street stop for 10 seconds and give you a hug but in return you gave him something to smile about, something to pass on to and share with those he's close to, something cheerful to replace work-related talk at the dinner table.
Here's the guy who started it all and made it a global campaign, Juan Mann.
There was a similar campaign to do with getting people to dance that I'm pretty sure you've seen before. Nevertheless, I'll look it up. As for why I'm all bawly, meh, les hormones.
PS - Vinit Mehta, the guy in this video, is a TYBMM student at KC. Awesomeness doubled, eh?
I was browsing through the archives of a friend's blog (Improper Conduct) and chanced upon a Youtube video. Since I had the time to browse, I had the time to view.
She said it had her teary eyed. Well guess what, it had me bawling. Will you hold it against me if I say I bawl attractively? :P
Reaching out to so many people in such an awesome way is so heart warming.. and if that's something that doesn't agree with your sensibilities, just go hug your friends and family more often already. Think, you had one person on the street stop for 10 seconds and give you a hug but in return you gave him something to smile about, something to pass on to and share with those he's close to, something cheerful to replace work-related talk at the dinner table.
Here's the guy who started it all and made it a global campaign, Juan Mann.
There was a similar campaign to do with getting people to dance that I'm pretty sure you've seen before. Nevertheless, I'll look it up. As for why I'm all bawly, meh, les hormones.
PS - Vinit Mehta, the guy in this video, is a TYBMM student at KC. Awesomeness doubled, eh?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Gracie Lou, Who?
There are times you need to be in this gracious state of mind. Kind, polite, bloody considerate state of mind. All the times someone asks you to "be blunt" (because hey, he can take it, make no mistake of that!), all the times you're expected to tick off a 10yr old but do it all nice and mature (i.e. with patience and blood vessels intact), all the times you're asked to make that one last cup of tea (or hang washed clothes out to dry :| ) when you're running late, all the times a friend behaves like a jackass and what you really wanna do is slap HARD... All the times you click the Social Interview tab on Facebook, for fuck's sake!
And since I haven't been Shweta G. Sharma in quite a while, what you get for this visit to my blog is stuff that generally manages to cheer me up, pack rat that I am. Marginally, atleast :P It ups my sillyness levels for the next half hour or so, and since that's more than what Vodafone can do...
Thing is, I keep planning to upload them but then decide to wait for the next one to make a show. Ab bas! :P
Hope you smile, even if no one's watching =)
Cookie Monster! Awesomeness
"HNY" :P
Sesame Street, Year 40
Oscaaaar!
Series of postcards (Google's getting old) - here because they were there :P
When Bapu = Birthday Boy? :|
ELMO!
Count von Count. Oh you bloody fool, count!
Just her name picks me up! Boombah Chamki :D
Happy 'kite festival', where kite festival = holiday with gajak, popcorn and movies :D
PS - The G dissecting my name? Grace. Shweta Grace Sharma. See? Vodafone reference? The tagline 'Happy to help'. Yes, I suck. =)
And since I haven't been Shweta G. Sharma in quite a while, what you get for this visit to my blog is stuff that generally manages to cheer me up, pack rat that I am. Marginally, atleast :P It ups my sillyness levels for the next half hour or so, and since that's more than what Vodafone can do...
Thing is, I keep planning to upload them but then decide to wait for the next one to make a show. Ab bas! :P
Hope you smile, even if no one's watching =)
Cookie Monster! Awesomeness
"HNY" :P
Sesame Street, Year 40
Oscaaaar!
Series of postcards (Google's getting old) - here because they were there :P
When Bapu = Birthday Boy? :|
ELMO!
Count von Count. Oh you bloody fool, count!
Just her name picks me up! Boombah Chamki :D
Happy 'kite festival', where kite festival = holiday with gajak, popcorn and movies :D
PS - The G dissecting my name? Grace. Shweta Grace Sharma. See? Vodafone reference? The tagline 'Happy to help'. Yes, I suck. =)
Monday, December 21, 2009
Snortdom I Provide
Go ahead, relate ;)
Today, I was about to propose. I got on my knee in front of my girlfriend and opened the box. My friend thought it would be funny to replace the ring with a condom. FML
Today, I texted my Dad to tell him I'm staying at my boyfriend's house and won't be home. Since I had predictive text on, my phone didn't quite get the word 'home' - the message I sent said, 'I'm staying at Will's, I'll not be good tonight.' FML
Today, I was awakened from a peaceful sleep by my crazy ex-girlfriend, who apparently copied my key before our break up three months ago. She was on top of me, stroking my beard, whispering: “He looks like Jesus.” FML
Today, I was standing in line at a coffee shop and I noticed that there was a bug on the guys face in front of me. Trying to be nice I lightly smacked it off. His reaction was to punch me in the face. Repeatedly. FML
Today, when my boyfriend and I were becoming intimate, his cat decides to jump onto the bed and lie right in between us. He then informs me that he wanted to stop to "preserve his cat's innocence." FML
Today, I was standing outside a store about to flirt with this guy when my mother drove up and shouted,"Hurry up, I have diarrhoea!" FML
Today, I looked at my house in Google Street View for the first time and noticed an unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway. When I asked my wife about it, she admitted to have an ongoing affair. Apparently the entire world knew my wife was having an affair before I did. FML
Today, I took my first day off in 3 weeks just so I can sleep in. The office secretary woke me up at 7.12 am with a page wishing me a nice day off. FML
Today, my sister and I got into a fight. I came home to find everything in my room covered in ketchup. FML
-
Related post of interest - Entertainment Pimp. Of Sorts.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Euphoria!
:) yeh kya tha?
Did, but why suddenly? You under the notion that I don't often enough?
And why should I? *insert update* Maybe I should.
:) Why am I doing that again??
I needed that *hug* :)
:) & :) & :) & :) & :) So when do we see you?
Aww be awesomely random just like that!!
I just did! :-) Now tell me why I did!
In response to :
Smile. Just like that :)
20-odd characters texted to 20-odd randomly picked friends on a giddy Thursday evening. It was one of those things you do just because. You know, for the random happiness quotient involved, reason be damned. And yippee, in came a solid flurry of responses!
You should try this.
So go ahead, give out random smiles, hug the ones you care about without waiting for a 'specific, valid reason' to come by, tell people you love them, appreciate them, spend time together, grin at all the things you want to, laugh out loud anytime it seems like a good idea to, do something nice simply because you can, do things you love simply because you can! Let the giddiness out, be a kid when you want to be, get that euphoria flowing!!
PS - Some aww/giggle-inducing replies have been left out, make up your own ;)
Monday, December 7, 2009
The Virtues That Aren't
In some sort of continuation...
Needing -or atleast wanting- to be around people who 'match up to my standards'? It's true. I call them people with whom I share a certain wavelength, have the same intellectual frequency, but what the heck, call 'em what you will.
I just don't see why I should subject myself to people that I suspect I will develop contempt or pity for beyond a certain level of interaction. They don't deserve either simply because they happen to think and function differently. They probably think I'm too logical and scientific for my own good. Yes, I've been told that. *Logical and scientific? Amusement to the rescue!* Hell, I don't deserve to be stuck with mediocrity simply because that's how most people are!
This is not a claim to superiority. Anything but. There are plenty in the world who are more intelligent, more competent than I and I can live with that. But just like them, I would like to surround myself with people at the roughly same level of thought and reason, if not higher. I want a certain degree of competence, I want a certain degree of intelligence, I want a certain degree of sense. Sue me.
This is not to say that people I don't see as freq-mates are inferior in any way, they're just not like me. Just as they would choose not to associate with me beyond a point, I choose not to associate with them beyond a point. I bore them, they bore me.
Being the polar opposite of judgemental is a virtue. There is no antonym for the word because there's too much ambiguity around what the term judgemental itself should mean. Are we discussing (and passing judgement on :P) someone who passed judgement -do bear in mind that judgement can be positive or negative- on another's conduct or someone who passed a negative judgement? The former would be the literal meaning, but ho!
Again, expecting something specific is anti-virtue. Virtue? To embrace all that comes your way, simply because it's there. Are you fucking kidding me?
General acceptance is one thing - this is also how people are. Individual acceptance another - this is what XYZ is like and I am open to being with XYZ/putting up with XYZ . That sounds like tolerance, which in turn sounds derogatory - none of this is meant to be. But wholehearted acceptance that reads "XYZ is someone I admire/look up to, genuinely like and want to be with!" is another ball game altogether.
Why must we force ourselves into believing we are all the same?
Why can't we be honest about this?
What The Judges Really Meant
November 22 to November 29. 8 days in the company of an assortment of people. Some that I just knew will be friends for the next three years of the course and beyond, some that I never got around to interacting with before, some that I had instinctively marked as people I ain't gonna get up close and chatty with and then some that I never knew existed. Equations and opinions were formed, newly invalidated equations and opinions changed and like the previous post made evident, albeit dramatically, there were revelations galore.
One of those revelations was part of this game we -a dozen batchmates, some from each of the first three categories I mentioned above- played to kill time in the middle of the night. Mention positives and negatives, atleast one of each, about everyone present. Bitch, but to their faces. Get downright nasty, but be nice. What got the game started is of no relevance now. Cutting straight to the revelation - I'm perceived as judgemental since I tend to categorize people as per their apparent intelligence. Also, I give off an air of assumed superiority when I'm around people who I think don't match up to my standards.
As for how far this is true - yep, how much basic intellect shows through in casual conversations matters to me. I have nothing against people who come across as slow or are, in the words of those who gave the verdict, "not upto my level". I'm as friendly with them as with the others, but I sure do have an opinion about how much sense they're capable of dishing out.
The opinion is open to change, of course it is, but I'm not waiting around for something to happen before I form one. The person himself is enough of an event.
How far the tag of 'judgemental' is accurate, I can't tell. What's laughable is that the entire game was based on how judgemental we are. Perceptive, if the word makes you happy. Those two hours were full of variations of "I don't really know you well.. never spoken na somehow.. atleast until tonight.. but I think negatives mein, you're like this---". Until tonight? Admission and distribution of judgement, check.
Funny thing is, when I spoke to the same friends later about this forming opinions and categorizing business, it turned out that they all had an opinion -similar or not- about the same person but never "thought of it". So because I think it out consciously and am vocal about it, I'm judgemental. As of now, lets just say I'm lost to the concept of anyone being judgemental.
Funnier still, the general consensus about me went this way - Positives? Intelligence. Negative? Too intelligent and looks for the same around her. Like wait, what?!
Being human, I'd like to make it known that my positives and negatives both included things other than to do with my brain. We'll discuss them over a cup of coffee sometime.
How far these opinions of me were actually thought out by everyone present, I do not know. It could have been a personal opinion for each one of them. It could be that some went with the opinion another announced simply because it was an easier alternative to thinking. It doesn't matter.
-
It isn't like opinions of everyone out there matter. What I'm like -the good and the bad- is what I'm like, regardless of what they think I'm like, so that's cool. Again, not even half of them are friends I'm close to, so they haven't had much of a chance to give out an informed opinion, good or bad. It was the overall interpretation of the trait of being judgemental that got to me. And since I don't see what's wrong with it, it got to me some more.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Us, Them & The Rest
The simple, sadahran group. Not simpletons, mind you. Everyone's capable of being bitchy, that's only human, so we're not talking dudh ke dhule. Not airheads either. Not even simple when I speak of how they dress. They have their share of fashionistas walking in looking like Africa, Iceland and China on different days of the week. Something I find difficult to relate to, but okay.
The manifestation of the suburban's definition of "a typical bunch of townies". Which again makes things difficult for me to comprehend. They just happen to live elsewhere. Most of them don't even hail from "town"! Someone hoping to get rid of this discussion would probably say they belong to a different "culture". That must be it. I dunno.
-
A class of 60. Rough segregation in the first 3 weeks. Come midterm, most can be found sticking to their "groups" like glue, tailing them to the canteen, the multiplex and the loo. More about the loo groups in another post :| New entrants trickle in, take the total to 65. The modus operandi remains the same, only smoother and quicker.
So what happens when you are, for all intents and purposes, through with the first sem? By which time every kid has handed in a multitude of projects, eaten in all the cafes and eateries around, collectively bitched about certain someones. Well, by then, everyone knows exactly who they're gonna sit with, eat with, work with, hang out with, and not to forget, bitch with. Fair enough, maybe, but it bothers me.
Now I'm not a proponent of the we-are-one-class-and-we-move-together philosophy. That's meant for loo groups. It's not even like I'm left without a bunch of people to be with and hence resent the grouping and fragmentation. But still...
When its chocolate day, some choose to hand out multiples within their groups, while others choose to include people they don't particularly like but because they've decided to be objective they dump packs of Munch on classmates they think are good looking.
When its a birthday being celebrated, one group goes all out as they party, head down the wine and fine dine route. They're "crazy". The other group chooses to keep it simple (there's that word again!) but manage to have just as much fun, if not more. They haunt Chowpatty and its chatais for a good few hours; go ga ga over the 'mini giant wheel' and Columbus' boat; gobble up cheesy pizzas and neon blue butterscotch golas; share bottles of soap bubbles with kids whose first reaction to new people is to beg.
I ain't out to judge or comment. Not my place to. Can hardly be when I'm not a part of either group with blinkers on tight, other possibilities be damned! I like people from both groups well enough. Guess I'll continue to watch, find it amusing and document. Suits me fine.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Try A Mush Pack Today
- I've been writing poems late at night and hiding them from my family and friends because I was embarrassed. Today I showed some to my mom who was an english major and editor. I have never seen my mother cry because she was so proud of me. I am now going to college and majoring in English too. MLIG
- Today my 22 year old brother hugged me. He's autistic, that's the first time he's ever hugged me in all of my 14 years on earth. MLIG
- Tomorrow I leave for college. Tonight when I said goodnight and goodbye to my sisters, my eight year old sis handed me a letter that said: "Even though we have a lot of fights, I still love you." I will miss her (and all my family) so much. They make my life G.
- Today, I skipped going to my boyfriend's cottage with a bunch of people to go to my aunt's 50th birthday party. She cried because she was so happy I was there. It was so worth it. MLIG
- I am sitting in my very last class at an Ivy League University. Thanks to the miracle of financial aid, I will be the first member of my family to graduate from college. I did it! MyLifeIsG!!!!!!!!!
- Two years ago, I lost my entire left leg in a car accident. While I was in hospital I wrote a list of everything I thought an amputation would stop me doing. Today, I am over halfway through completing everything on that list. Tomorrow, I start surfing lessons. MLIG
- Today, I paid for a soldier's lunch, who just returned from Iraq. She said, "You didn't have to do that" and I said, "Neither did you." She started crying, and so did I. MLIG.
- Today is my 17th birthday. As I went to blow out the candles, I realized that I couldn't think of anything to wish for. I have everything I've ever wanted. I give my wish to you. MLIG
- Today was the day I was going to kill myself. My best friends knew about this and whilst I was heading to the bridge they all texted me; saying how much they loved me and if I jump, they jump. I did a u-turn and went to all their houses and watched tears stream down each of their faces in pure joy. They saved my life. I love them with all my heart. MLIG :]
I'm in a sappy mood, so excuse me if the mush was too much for you to bear.
Chanced upon a site called www.mylifeisg.com this afternoon. That's My Life Is Great. Read awhile. Conclusion? Even as FML was entertaining and makes for solid resounding laughs, it's MLIG that really made my day.
It's amazing how we can smile for another. Sad how we so often choose not to.
Not trying to be preachy, but hey, look up someone who's happy the next time you feel down! =)
Friday, August 14, 2009
My Mother Is On Facebook.
Silence. The deafening variety.
She's on Facebook, she's on my list on friends, she's everywhere!
Now, don't get me wrong. I love my mother to bits and would live my life for her. I have this theory that living your life for someone/something must be infinitely tougher than giving it up for that particular whoever/whatever, but that's for another time, another post.
And she didn't track me down, sneak up on me, put on a "yo, imma hot dude, add me yu sexii chica!" disguise (that would never -wont ever- work, don't get funny ideas anyone...) and then do an India TV "parda faash!" gig at dinner one night. Au contraire, I'm the one who got her off VSNL and introduced her to Gmail and Facebook and my humble blog - I'm your modern-day saintly proponent of clicks and codes. I'm glad she's open minded and eager to learn the ropes on here, to see how these work best for her. I'm glad that it has given her an opportunity to reconnect with classmates, neighbours and friends from the years past. I'm glad she's being progressive about it and not giving me some "too old, too busy, and who cares anyway" concoction.
I'm glad, glad, GLAD. Proud. I truly am. Come to think of it, I probably sound like a proud mum. Anyway, I think she's wayy cool.
But okay, picture this. Fictional situations all (so Ma, don't freak out.. nevertheless, CPR on hold guys!). Only for the sake of point making, ye get? So, for whatever reason, you upload on Facebook some pics of you and a bunch of friends downing criss-cross drinks or trying out some random grassy thing or in general playing the stupid/dangerous/perverted fool. Surprise surprise, your mom gains access to them! Oh and in case it hasn't crossed your mind yet, you're underage. HOW WILL YOU FEEL? I dunno know how you'll feel but boss, those pics will self destruct. Poof! And if that doesn't happen in time, haha, someone's gonna get hurt real bad tonight...
Milder version of the same - you're flirting with whoever, and I'm talking serious flirting. The responses make you happy in the heart and mushy in the mind. And out of nowhere, Momma puts in an appearance. Potential poof situation. Not ideal, see? That's what I'm getting at. Virtual privacy ka popat.
Then again, this works both ways. Anytime she decides to crib about me, bitch or rant, I'll get those flashy red notifications. She decides to blog-rant, I can read. Random conversations with friends, I get updates, the inside scoop.
We could go in for a cordial understanding that the other's profile is not to be looked at, updates to be ignored, but who am I kidding? We're sneaky pigs in that regard - do pardon the language, bas grasp the implication. And it'd get too boring, too soon. Guess we'll let things remain.
I'll just have to remember to flirt in private ;)
** This also holds good for college profs. Detected one on Facebook the other day. This might just turn into a series of "Who's On Facebook?" posts. :|
Monday, July 6, 2009
Massive, Massive, Massive.
The mere mention of Chate’s Coaching Classes is invariably accompanied by some ugly allegations. Old news. Also stuff I don’t need to go into. But a recent experience proved beyond doubt the (ab)sense of ethics when it comes to the man running the show at Chate’s Vashi branch.
This may even sound preachy. But after a thousand words and a mind mad at that man all over again, I don’t really care.
I accept that there is little point in ranting and raging on a blog that is probably read by 5 people a week, if I’m lucky. But when I left the coaching centre, I was convinced that a blazing write-up for a news daily, in The Twin City Times if it came to that, would be next on my agenda. I rather liked the idea of involving the MNS youth wing, until it dawned on me that I’m a north Indian and Chate dear is definitely not. Back to the article - I told myself that being a BMM student would only help my case and screw up his. Also, a copy of the article would have to be slid under the door to the office. The write-up that formed itself in my mind as I walked away was, at the very least, the equivalent of a watermelon sized stink bomb escorted by two baseball bats for some physical impact.
Par kya hota hai na, your face goes from a furious red to a peaceful tan, you age by a day, you realize you have lesser time left to waste now than you did yesterday and so you calm down… which is why this will go up as a blog outburst and remain one. I’m writing to feel good about having let it out. That does not mean another is obliged to read. Read forth if you don’t mind a long winded post about something that may not be of concern to you. If you do mind, I suggest you head to FML.
So. I was there with an acquaintance of a few hours to complete a task. Do drop the “task-who?” queries. We were sent out to earn some money. Given - 3 hours, a combined capital investment amount of Rs.20, a cellphone as a team bonus and our oh-so-marketable baarvi paas skills. Down to our last hour, we felt like cavemen who had just figured out what to do with fire. After all, we had our modest but hard-earned pay stuffed deep inside the deepest pockets. During the course of the afternoon, we’d met some entrepreneurs some of who who genuinely wanted to help and did – them we were grateful to; some who found that Sundays didn’t translate to a day with spare work lying around – I’ll leave it to you to work that out; and then some blessed souls who as good as slammed the front door in our faces and then tried to spray some Baygon through the cracks in the wood just in case. Nevertheless, I was feeling, and do pardon the sad but fitting OSO reference, “like the KING of the WORLD!”
Chate’s, right. We walked in, briefed the boss there and were subsequently given some records to fill in, phone calls to make. All conversations started with this totally sadau “Hello, I’m calling from Chate classes” intro (NOT my dream job : | ) and went somewhat like this –
“Aapka beta aaj class kyu nahi aaya?”-“Bai.. ho ka? Nighaalla hota toh.. mee tabadtop yete! Tumhi thaamba!”-“Naahi, raahu dya.. ushir aalla asel. Mark nahi kiya hoga. Sorry.”
So we spend an hour learning new panic words in Marathi, systematically penning absentee records right down to the excuse. All while the lady employed to do this stuff quizzes us about our future job expectations and what we would do if a new co-worker happened to delete all our work and the boss “took the newbie’s side”. Would we resign because the boss had no confidence in us or would we stay on to prove a point? I’m serious. I left out the quotes and commas because they can be a pain more often than not, but those were her exact words. I know, I know, the things we do… Anyway, so an hour goes by, we work, then get up to see the boss so we may reap due monetary benefits. Here you’ll say we should have decided on a certain amount beforehand. Hah. Keep saying. Mr. Ghosh, showrunner extraordinaire, decided to disappear instead. Then over the stoopid Tata Indicom his voice made its crackly crinkly way to reach us. We get told there was no “commitment on his part as such” and we have no right to demand payment. We were begging for work, he felt sorry for us, so he gave us some shitty calls to make. No contract, remember? Yeah, right. Dickhead.
“Aapka beta aaj class kyu nahi aaya?”-“Bai.. ho ka? Nighaalla hota toh.. mee tabadtop yete! Tumhi thaamba!”-“Naahi, raahu dya.. ushir aalla asel. Mark nahi kiya hoga. Sorry.”
So we spend an hour learning new panic words in Marathi, systematically penning absentee records right down to the excuse. All while the lady employed to do this stuff quizzes us about our future job expectations and what we would do if a new co-worker happened to delete all our work and the boss “took the newbie’s side”. Would we resign because the boss had no confidence in us or would we stay on to prove a point? I’m serious. I left out the quotes and commas because they can be a pain more often than not, but those were her exact words. I know, I know, the things we do… Anyway, so an hour goes by, we work, then get up to see the boss so we may reap due monetary benefits. Here you’ll say we should have decided on a certain amount beforehand. Hah. Keep saying. Mr. Ghosh, showrunner extraordinaire, decided to disappear instead. Then over the stoopid Tata Indicom his voice made its crackly crinkly way to reach us. We get told there was no “commitment on his part as such” and we have no right to demand payment. We were begging for work, he felt sorry for us, so he gave us some shitty calls to make. No contract, remember? Yeah, right. Dickhead.
And that led to a firing. Self to Showman. Derived tremendous satisfaction from it too. And it was this dignified firing that told him exactly what I thought of him. Ah, I was so proud of myself! Incidentally, so was the acquaintance of a few hours. He was also taken aback. Net result – he stopped hitting on me. Mera time 200% vasool. :D
My point is this – Even in the absence of a lawyer, a contract drawn out on stamp paper and two witnesses, we need to get around to honouring agreements. Just plain ol’ staying true to our word types. Be it going out to play with a kid sister, meeting a pal on time or something we actually consider ‘major’.
This may even sound preachy. But after a thousand words and a mind mad at that man all over again, I don’t really care.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A Couple Of Hours At Most.
You wonder why. You wonder why not. You wonder why you did. You wonder why you didn’t. You wonder why they did. You wonder why they didn’t. You may find the answers. Then again, you may not. Stories come your way all the same.
One orthopedic surgeon, a professor in Miraj, is operated on by another for a minor ligament tear. An arthroscopic surgery, for those interested. A cardiologist withholds the green flag citing possibility of cardiac trouble, proposes postponement of the procedure. The doctor in charge of the anesthesia has been a close friend of the patient-to-be for a while now.
The team discovers that a well known orthopedic surgeon will be coming down to Belgaum for a visit soon. They fix a date for an OT meet up there in an unfamiliar, hut of a hospital as opposed to in Mumbai, as per prior plans. The patient goes under the knife.
His brother, a gynecologist in the above mentioned metropolitan, stands guard outside the OT. He voices his doubts about the nursing home chosen. Urges them to reconsider, to pick Mumbai in light of the cardiologist’s warning. Shush, they say. Everything’s at hand. It’s expected to be a smooth show, Sir; a couple of hours at most.
The warning flag has been disregarded; the whistle blown.
In hindsight, perhaps the cardiologist wasn’t really talking through his hat. Midway, they run into complications. Consulting or informing the sole relative present is ruled out, the procedure carries on. A cardiac arrest ensues. Call it intuition, call it boredom, call it primitive familial concern - within minutes the uninformed doc from the doorway rushes in.
All that can be done gets done. That the nursing home is as poorly equipped as they come doesn’t help matters. Breach of trust at its worst. The patient is ‘in no condition to be shifted’. How the nursing home provides better facilities than a regular ambulance could be anyone’s guess.
They try. Cardiac massages, all revival techniques possible put in an appearance. Jolts of electricity shoot through the man. To no avail. The patient loses his life.
He was unmarried. He left behind grieving parents, and a brother who is now being accused for another’s lack of caution.
The next day, a missing car is traced.
The anesthetist is found dead in the driver’s seat. He leaves behind old parents, a wife, and a child few months old.
The post mortem reveals Scoline in his bloodstream. Scoline – a drug that paralyses all muscles until oxygen is artificially provided and that within 4 minutes. Beyond that? Brain death. Police evidence comprises a car locked from the inside, a motionless body and a syringe partnering an empty vial labeled ‘Lethal’.
Suicide, they label it. For those hailing from a different school of thought, it’s about who murdered who.
Smooth show indeed.
One orthopedic surgeon, a professor in Miraj, is operated on by another for a minor ligament tear. An arthroscopic surgery, for those interested. A cardiologist withholds the green flag citing possibility of cardiac trouble, proposes postponement of the procedure. The doctor in charge of the anesthesia has been a close friend of the patient-to-be for a while now.
The team discovers that a well known orthopedic surgeon will be coming down to Belgaum for a visit soon. They fix a date for an OT meet up there in an unfamiliar, hut of a hospital as opposed to in Mumbai, as per prior plans. The patient goes under the knife.
His brother, a gynecologist in the above mentioned metropolitan, stands guard outside the OT. He voices his doubts about the nursing home chosen. Urges them to reconsider, to pick Mumbai in light of the cardiologist’s warning. Shush, they say. Everything’s at hand. It’s expected to be a smooth show, Sir; a couple of hours at most.
The warning flag has been disregarded; the whistle blown.
In hindsight, perhaps the cardiologist wasn’t really talking through his hat. Midway, they run into complications. Consulting or informing the sole relative present is ruled out, the procedure carries on. A cardiac arrest ensues. Call it intuition, call it boredom, call it primitive familial concern - within minutes the uninformed doc from the doorway rushes in.
All that can be done gets done. That the nursing home is as poorly equipped as they come doesn’t help matters. Breach of trust at its worst. The patient is ‘in no condition to be shifted’. How the nursing home provides better facilities than a regular ambulance could be anyone’s guess.
They try. Cardiac massages, all revival techniques possible put in an appearance. Jolts of electricity shoot through the man. To no avail. The patient loses his life.
He was unmarried. He left behind grieving parents, and a brother who is now being accused for another’s lack of caution.
The next day, a missing car is traced.
The anesthetist is found dead in the driver’s seat. He leaves behind old parents, a wife, and a child few months old.
The post mortem reveals Scoline in his bloodstream. Scoline – a drug that paralyses all muscles until oxygen is artificially provided and that within 4 minutes. Beyond that? Brain death. Police evidence comprises a car locked from the inside, a motionless body and a syringe partnering an empty vial labeled ‘Lethal’.
Suicide, they label it. For those hailing from a different school of thought, it’s about who murdered who.
Smooth show indeed.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Dear Lethargy, RIP.
Dear Lethargy,
We've been friends for close to two decades now. And what a friend! What decades! What a combination, darn it! My mind's tear glossed eyes see delayed replays of the times we walked hand in hand, strolling through the park and picking berries. Okay, so that was a lie. The berries never did quite make a show. You never even moved off your lazy behind, goddamn it! As for the tears... Still. The innocence. The heartfelt disregard for the rats that raced. Excuse me while I mop up this teary mess...
Remember the times when assorted deadlines flew by and all we wanted was to hear the "whoosh!" and see the back of them? When Monday came and Sunday went but everything, from bread to bath water remained unchanged? When the family got B grade movies for dinner because the other counters were too far away? When the bed first developed persistent depressions and consequent lumps? When the birds overdid the mango tree routine because we chose to be generous? And lethargic, heehee. Sorry.
Some would call us 'chaddi buddies', some 'langotiya yaars' and some... okay, let's not go down that road.
The essence of it all is, you've been as faithful a companion as I could ever have wished for. Never have I felt the slightest trace of treachery or abandonment. You were loyal. You were there. True blue Liverpool style. True red, I mean.
But now... but now! But NOW!!
Okay guys, cut. So we just collectively discovered I can't handle filmy dramas. And Symbi needs me to be a drawer. Artsy fartsy. Whoop de doo, Mumbai it might just be! Coming back to the drama - It's worse when the script demands that first I K-reminisce and then do an about turn and screech "Magar aur nahi... main yeh zulm, yeh bojh, yeh nainsaafi bardaasht nahi kar sakti!". System overload ho jaata hai yaar.
The general idea was to let it be known that killing off this blog is NOT the plan. I'm gonna get back to writing stuff and regularly. Sometimes there's so much to write about that I put it away for later... other times, there's "nothing to write about".
So I hope to hit up the New Post option sometime tomorrow and give you a well-deserved dose of my gyaan. Okay, so maybe you don't really deserve it.. but whoa, big deal.
Friday, June 5, 2009
This And That. Seriously.
And hello! Plenty of updates on the academic front, none otherwise. Which is why I think this post is going to be shorter and serious-er than usual.
Here are a few mutually unrelated observations – that’s the most I could summon up the energy to do.
• To touch the tip of an ugly iceberg, I often feel like my time in Swami’s was a waste. I feel, not think. The Iceberg Diaries will resume later.
• Leaving the kid sister behind IF Symbiosis works out will be so so tough… I’m actually considering dropping the Symbi idea entirely on the basis of that. Go ahead, tell me I’m being needlessly sentimental. Or tellingly cowardly.
• Pune is one heck of a city. Well okay, so the only thing in its favour is its dry climate. You may wither and die thanks to the heat, but you won’t sweat. What a place.
• Traffic there is crazy. Drivers go zip zap zoom, bikers are vehemently anti helmet, and pedestrians have collectively vowed not to look up. Lane concepts got bypassed by the time Shivaji arrived.
• It pisses me off that every goddamned thing in Maharashtra has to do with Shivaji or Ambedkar. Didn’t anyone else ever do anything?
• I really want to get out and meet new people. That, preferably not in a pick up bar.
• Colleges have finally figured out that selling maximum possible admission forms is the cleanest way of minting money. Forms were available in SoBo colleges minus the standard glitches. 5 minutes would be the average time. Very impressive.
• I’m getting stressed out at the thought of having to pick a stream, course and college – in that very order – and soon. Come to think of it, there are times I mess up the order prescribed. There’s engineering at one end of the pole, designing in the middle and journalism at the far end. And of course, random ‘possibilities’ keep coming to mind. Why can’t I just do everything? :/
• What’s even more stress inducing is that most seem to think I have made up my mind. Haha.
• If nothing else, the declaration of results pushed many people from the past to call. Or send brief, exemplarily to the point SMSes – hey how much did you score? Bugged me at first - After that there were no calls. Point is, it was good to catch up with them.
• I find it weird that people expect me to be jealous of friends who scored more than me in the 12th. Need to bop them over the head and send them off to look up the term ‘friends’. And ‘deserved merit’, if I may add to their tasks.
• Atria, Worli is boring. Give it a miss.
In case you’re still reading, I still don’t know who sent me that bouquet with a “Congrates” card after the Std 10 board results.
So long.
