Plain Jane Strikes Again

SO random.

2011-11-23T11:54:00.001-06:00

Little baby Zoya
Sat on the sofa
And stared with her big round eyes;
Her mommy said, "Zoe,
Would you like to tell a story?"
And she said
"Now why in the world would I?"

Bye Bye, Birdie

2011-11-20T16:14:00.001-06:00

Today is the day I lose afriend. The realization that should have come to me months ago, that has beenspoken of and lamented without full comprehension, is finally here. Today she leaves this country to go home, to fearlesslyprepare for a new life, new relationships and responsibilities. I am so happythat she is the first among our little circle to – please excuse thecliché – embark on this wonderful journey called marriage! But selfish beingthat I am, I can't help thinking of my loss - my friend and confidante, and mypartner in crime for many, many years! I can't even begin to list the thingsthat I will miss about her and our bachelorhood escapades. The ripples from thissingle event will affect all our lives, and something tells me that nothing isgoing to be the same.

But -I'm a big girl. I can handle change and in the process, even be incrediblyhappy and excited about this wedding! I will always be around for her, eagerlywaiting to share her joys and hopefully a minimal amount of sorrow. Becauseeven though today is the day I lose a friend, tomorrow she will call me,excited about something trivial - some new jewelry she bought or something thather future husband said to her, and it will be the day that my friend will comeback to me!

2011-08-28T00:56:00.002-05:00

He had a heart shaped face. His ears were as soft as a baby's cheek, and the white hair near his ears made him look like a wolf when he was a baby, and a wise old lion when he was all grown up. We always called him golden-brown, because brown wasn't special enough for him.

I dreamt the other night, that we found you again, and papa was playing with you like he used to. We were all so happy, but it was the saddest dream I have had in a long time.

You will never be forgotten, you will never be replaced. People might get tired of hearing about you, but I will never get tired of thinking about you.

2011-07-14T23:25:00.002-05:00

Ha! Facebook is inundated with news and updates of people getting married. Literally, (by that I mean figuratively, of course) half of the people I know have gotten married in the past year, while the rest of us marvel at the rapidity with which the first half are acquiring spouses, and consequently, extremely satisfying lives. (yes, don't you know, it is always so.) I suppose there will come a time, when Facebook is outdated and "footbox" or "tomatomap" is all the rage, and the superior software will be programmed to tell you when a statistically significant portion of your friends has tied the knot and then automatically update your "About me" page to say "stubborn, old and unmarriageable."
Till then I say, "Ha!" because "Ha!" is about all I can say.

Fairytale

2011-03-24T10:30:00.010-05:00

When I was a little girl, like all little girls, I loved stories. My parents were never really into the whole “tell me a story” thing. They were more into the “here read this” thing. I discovered Ariel, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, the Twelve Dancing Princesses, and all of the others. I am deeply grateful to Hans Christian Anderson, the Grimm Brothers, and Walt Disney. Without them, my imagination would probably have withered into a squash.

My issue with these stories, however, is that they got me hooked on one problematic idea. Prince Charming, that elusive knight-in-shining-armour-riding-on-white-horse type spectacle was ubiquitous in all of these stories that I was quite fond of. Bollywood, with its melodrama and unending romances, did not help the situation. As I got older, neither did Meg Ryan and Julia Roberts. I had unquestionable faith that the prince would come to me, someday, and that I would just know.

Of course no one, not even I, can escape some wisdom with a few years of experience. And what I have found is this - people find their prince, at least they think they do. Some people have to fight to be with their prince, and some of them give up. Some of them get married and are well on their way to Happily Ever After. I know now that love is magical, but the Prince is not. I’m not saying he’s not perfect – I’m saying he’s real, which in my opinion, is much much better.

2011-03-23T17:51:00.000-05:00

So, yesterday I received two anonymous comments on an old post. They were really nice comments, and ok.. so they weren’t really anonymous, given that they left their names. But the same day there was a crow who, I swear, followed me from the bus stop to my house. Really, what are the chances of that happening? I feel extremely suspicious.

Happy V-day!

2011-02-15T00:23:00.004-06:00

Nothing says Valentine's Day like ugly, mismatched socks.

EXACTLY what I was thinking. Only much, much better.

2010-12-04T14:43:00.001-06:00

The First Snowflake
By: The Boy Least Likely To

It was the first
Snowflake to fall
Before the storm
No one noticed
It as it fell
All by itself
It wasn’t long before it
Began to melt

It felt special
All on its own
Out in the cold
But when all of
The other snowflakes
Began to fall

The little snowflake just became
Lost in the storm
And suddenly it didn’t feel
Special at all

Snow kept falling
But no two snowflakes
Are ever the same
Each one is special in its
Own little way
And that first little snowflake is still
Special to me

2010-10-25T11:49:00.003-05:00

Children of the 80s - do you hear me? We are now officially Outdated.

RIP Walkman.

When I saw this little piece of news, I remembered how my elder sister (also a Child of the Eighties) had wanted a Walkman for some occasion and how it was such a Big Deal when my grandmother got her one. And then of course how I got to use it a couple years after that. (Yay for second hand stuff!)

I bet if I actually cared to think about it, I could come up with a dozen such things that indicate I can no longer call myself a "youngster". Just yesterday I had a friend tell me how his body doesn't process alcohol the way it used to. Sad stuff indeed.

The silver lining, if you wish, is that at least Microsoft Word still recognizes "Walkman" as a valid word. :)
Now off to work for me, I wish I still had a Walkman though. Especially since I forgot my iPod at home today.

My list of (current) Epic Fails

2010-10-18T02:12:00.006-05:00

1. I have been trying for about six months now to play the guitar. Epic fail.

2. Work. Epic fail.

3. For a while, the only nice living thing in my room was a little spotted ladybird. Contrary to my instinctual response to insects ("Die, insect, die!!"), I let her stay because, you know, ladybirds are pretty and it made me smile. The next day I saw it fried to death on the light bulb. Epic fail.

4. My vow to not turn into a shopaholic - Epic fail.

5. My current hair experiment (aka hair style). Epic fail.

6. I swear the weekends have only 5 hours per day now. Epic fail.

7. Attempt to make best friend happy(ier). Epic fail. (Re-do)

On the other hand,

1. Shopping for baby niece/nephew - Priceless!

2. Kurkure, green mango juice that tastes like jaljeera, samosa and Kesar Pista ice cream - about $20. Being surprised with all this, and more - Priceless!

2010-09-23T17:15:00.005-05:00

I have really weird dreams. I know that all dreams are weird to some extent, but I feel like lately my subconscious is developing sure signs of insanity. And it’s not much longer till it manifests on my conscious self. Just a polite warning to those who actually have to deal with me on a daily basis.

Ok, so amongst my many bizarre dream experiences, I am about to share with you a couple. Actually, maybe just one. No need to advertise the insanity too much.

Scene 1: Here I am, in my parents’ bedroom, while they’re watching TV. I tell my mom, that I have a worm inside my brain that is incurable (which was scary in itself.) So of course my mom does what every loving mother would do in such a situation. She picks up a gun and shoots me in the head. Good, now I’m lying on the bed telling my parents that I’m still alive, and they need to take me to a hospital! So, they help me up, and I walk out of the room.

Scene 2: My father is driving me to the hospital, on a snowy, icy, wintry day. In a big, rednec.. uh, I mean, red pick-up truck. He leaves me at the hospital door because “he can’t find parking anywhere” and I have to walk across the ice with a worm and a bullet stuffed in my head.

In the hospital, to treat my condition (the bullet wound) they cut off my head. Oooff course.

Scene 3: I run away from the hospital. And now I’m running away from a woman who wants to steal some "family secrets" from me. On a very brown, very sandy landscape with dunes or hills or something. Did I mention I’m a boy at this point? Yes, try and keep up. [Now that I think about it, it was probably because I didn’t have a brain anymore. Haha BUuuuurrrnn!!]

I do remember wondering (in my dream) that if I’ve been decapitated, how in the world is my vision still working!?

Needless to say, I woke up all sweaty and with my heart pounding. But I recovered soon enough and called my parents to tell them about the atrocities they committed. What did they have to say about it?

“Hahahaha”

Earth Hour - March 27, 2010

2010-09-08T22:17:00.002-05:00

Lights were switched off, candles were lit and the windows were left open, so that the cool air could come and go as it pleased. For a while I felt like I was home, in India, when a power outage would strike without any notice and we would sit in the balcony, with candles lit and doors and windows left open to invite the cool breeze in. It would be quiet, except for the trucks on the road. It was the kind of silence I grew up with, the kind I like. The view from my balcony was breathtaking at night. What was unremarkable in the light – just roads and stones and apartments – would transform in the dark to a pretty pattern of lights and sounds that would just somehow match. It helped that our apartment is on the sixth floor, and the highway is just the right distance for the sound of passing cars to be pleasing instead of making you want to throw bricks at them.

But, I digress. Earth hour. It was more like two and a half earth hours. And that was because it was spent in the company of nice smelling candles, good friends and good conversations. I will just leave it at that. Candles, friends, conversations and conservation. ;)

You're not the boss of me!!

2010-08-24T11:01:00.018-05:00

Diamond is a tiny little brown dog. She’s very feisty and spunky, like a small brown dog should be. I know this because I and three other adults, which included a police officer, ran around the main roads of town trying to catch her.

We strategized, and she slipped right through our fingers. We coaxed, and she saw right through our pretenses. We lunged, and she lunged further away from us. We slowed traffic so that she wouldn't get run over. We asked strangers sitting on the side of the road if they had any food and they looked at us like we were in cahoots with the crazy guy at the end of the street.

And all the time, the game was just getting more and more challenging for her. So, first it was just Mr Dogsitter. Then two, then three then four people! All trying to catch me, huh? Well, I’ll show them, she thought. I’ll show them who runs things around here. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll take them out of the apartment complex first, then on to the highway. Then when they get really scared, I’ll take them to the parking lot where there’s lots of places for me to hide. Then let’s see what they come up with.

But what she didn’t take into account was that four people determined to catch a little dog will outrun her. By the end, all of us were panting and wheezing but we had her surrounded. She looked at all of us in turn, sizing us up. Then, like no big deal, she crawls into Mr Dogsitter’s arms. She was a naughty little runaway dog. But what fun she had that day!

I wonder if the dogsitter ever told the owner about Diamond’s little adventure.

The day it flooded in A-mess.

2010-08-12T14:53:00.004-05:00

The day began when I got a call from a friend at 6.30 am in the morning. Any call at 6.30 am is either bad news or drunk dial. When she said there is water around her apartment, I never thought it would be 5 to 6 feet of water. Once they got on dry land (via rescue boat), and we walked around our neighbourhood trying to assess the levels of the water and the severity of the flood, it was clear we were pretty much stranded on an island and campus was completely inaccessible. So, I promptly got into panic gear, went to Hyvee and bought emergency supplies – 6 bars of snickers, two tins of canned fruit and some fresh fruit, and a bag of chips. I am reanalyzing my emergency-coping abilities. (Fortunately, a part of my brain was working the night before and I had parked my car away from the low lying parking spaces that got inundated with flood water).

Once we got home, we had nothing to do – we had no internet, nowhere to go. So I set about doing the one thing I had been putting off for a while – cleaning! I cleaned and sprayed and scrubbed for two hours. I even cleaned the dustbins. Who cleans the dustbins, I’d like to know and shake ~~hands~~ gloves with.

After that, boredom set in. While the others were catching up on sleep, I studied, I cleaned up my computer, discovered my iPod isn’t working and then went out for a walk to… Hyvee! After I got back and started cooking dinner, I learned that the water in Ames is “contaminated” (they were very ambiguous about this part), and that we aren’t supposed to flush the toilets or use the shower, and that there has been a boil alert since the morning that I knew nothing of. I set about boiling water in all the pots and pans I owned. After we had dinner two hours later than my tummy had planned, we went back to.. guess where? Hyvee! And bought gallons of drinking water.

Last thing at night, I did after all receive a drunk dial, and the day felt complete. It was all in a day’s work for me, but my heart goes out to the people who have lost their homes, their cars and their belongings, and in one case, their loved one, in the flood.

P.S. The pictures aren’t mine. The first was captured by university photographer Bob Elbert, and the second is from a weather lab. I will put up pictures from my camera either when the internet at home starts working, or when I develop enough presence of mind to bring my camera and its cord to campus.

The Shrink is In

2010-06-30T22:01:00.005-05:00

Well. Of all the rubbish that's on YouTube, you would've thought someone would've put the video that actually teaches you some life lessons.
If you've heard of the television series "That 70's Show", you might know of Hyde and Jackie. And then you might've seen the one episode where Hyde, in his infinite wisdom teaches Jackie the power of being Zen -.-

It doesn't matter if you use it on that one really annoying person in your life, or on the nicer people who PMS sometimes (yes, even guys PMS.) or with people who are being absolutely chipper. (God knows that can be annoying.) It will faze the unfazed and unfaze the perfectly fazed. That is the power of Zen. -.-

I'm not much of a fan, but I did learn some things from that show. Now, I pass on the wisdom to you. The next time you feel the blood rising, or you're just bored with life, say these words to the person in front of you: "It's cool." and when they ask you what that means, you may move on to "Whatever". Even if they are not in front of you, but you're just plain mad, say it. You must not underestimate the power of Zen -.- The words will soothe and apathize. Excuse me, what? You say there's no such word as "apathize"? Whatever.

Use these words at your discretion, but use them wisely, little grasshoppers. And remember, "You can't teach someone to be Zen, Jackie, you can only learn to be Zen." And don't let your opponent underestimate you either, for "where Zen ends, ass-kicking begins!"

This post is dedicated to Aparajita, aka Aplu, who introduced me to the world of Zen. (You can find her and her amazing talent here - http://aparajita-r.blogspot.com/ )

"Golden-Brown"

2010-06-13T23:15:00.000-05:00

I have no right to be angry, and I'm not. I was not caught unawares or unexpectedly. But still, it pierced a hole through my heart when you left. I would not change a single thing, from beginning to end. Rest in Peace seems too dull for you. May you wag your tail into eternity, and find an endless garden with lots of dirt worth sniffing, other dogs worth barking at, and lots of trees worth peeing on. :) and of course "happydog" biscuits. And no baths. Ok, you get the picture.

To my darling Buzo, Thank you.

City of Blinding Lights

2010-05-13T17:53:00.003-05:00

Las Vegas, Nevada

Girls just wanna have fun!

2010-04-16T15:57:00.010-05:00

SOooo.. After the brain bending brilliance and intense intensity of my last post, I knew I had to post something to redeem myself immediately. Of course, I never do anything immediately. It's a matter of principle.

On those same (sane? No, same.) lines, while I was supposed to be diligently working for a lab meeting, this is what I ended up doing.

Aaahh, it's so pink I love it!

Bright, weird colours after like a hundred years. I feel 19 again. :) and I miss my girlfriends! You are my pink nails! :D

"May you find your river" - Ajeet dada

2010-04-01T14:23:00.003-05:00

Who says silence is golden? It’s silver. It’s pretty, sparkling, molten silver, which ripples so soft when a voice falls on it. It’s a shimmery silver shawl, smooth as silk and yet warm like milk that’s been heated just enough. It covers my cold shoulders, and envelops me in its afterglow. It’s inside this shawl that I know what I truly want, and what I truly am.. I wish my mind would stop talking long enough for me to find out. :)

ps. The title of this post is a note written on a birthday present- "Siddhartha" by Herman Hesse, a book I am still struggling to understand.

2010-03-12T09:14:00.001-06:00

Flutter flutter little bird
How I wonder what you heard.
Whisper it out, shout aloud
It won't really reach the crowd.
thinking pondering
keep on wondering
You'll be far gone
When I stop sulking.

2010-03-03T22:04:00.006-06:00

Why it’s about time for the Spring to start (and the cold to stop) :

1. My feet are tired of wearing socks all the time.

2. I’m starting to get dreams where my brother is a bunch of spring onions that’s wilting because of the cold.

DIE MOUSE DIE!!!

2010-03-02T23:49:00.011-06:00

Dear Little Grey Mouse,

I feel bad that you had to die in order for us to live, and so I’m writing this to explain to you my side of the story.

You see, your presence was not just irrationally scary to us, but also impractically problematic. If it had been just you, we might… MIGHT.. have gotten over our phobia of anything smaller than us that squeaks. No, the clinching evidence against you was the potential of catching rabies, salmonella, or the plague. Also the fact that we wanted our kitchen back. I wanted to sleep soundly without wondering if I would wake up to a furry creature scampering over my legs. This apartment aint big enough for the three of us. And being bigger than you, and having access to luxuries such as mouse traps, we won.

I want to clarify here, though, that your death was not brought about wholly by us. It took some sleuthing, but we figured out that the cause of your death was the rat poison put in our cupboard by the authorities (that we alerted about your presence. But I’m still hoping that buys me some time from purgatory.) Eating it made your system go berserk (thanks to weird pharmacology that our room-mate didn’t understand and hence neither did I) and you felt yourself going crazy and probably committed suicide in a mouse trap. I like to think that you thought it was a more noble way to die than to run out through the drain and die in the cold. And I applaud you for that.

Now I wonder – did you go to heaven or hell? (I’m not sure I believe in either, but I have a feeling you did) If you’re in heaven, I hope that you will have the heart to forgive us. If you’re in hell, then…well…maybe I can apologize when I meet you there.

Sincerely,

The trap setter.

2010-02-28T00:09:00.009-06:00

You are tantalizing from afar, daring me to plant a kiss, and scar that innocence that you somehow, still carry around. You are a muse, and what a wonderful muse, to fill my lonely imagination with unkempt tales of new adventures. You amuse, and you bemuse with equal ease. To my eyes, that crave their love, you seem perfect, a savior. The stars line up, and the world makes complete sense and absolutely no sense at the same time.

The morning brings solace, and reality with it. You are a muse, and that is all- a muse to amuse and bemuse. You are half truth, half imagination. You are amazing, and filled with a love that is not mine to claim. You will figure this out, and then I will be without friend or muse, once again.

Sunset

2010-02-14T20:44:00.004-06:00

Good morning to you, Valentine

Did you count your stars, like I did mine?

We started with excitement, flowers and wine

with a “Good morning to you, Valentine.”

The day is past, the sun is set

The morning light went by so quick

the afternoon was quiet and dull

And I wept with my head on your shoulder.

Who knew the dark would be this cold,

That distances would be this bold?

The night has come, to test our might

Good night to you, my Valentine.

Strawberry Necklace

2010-02-05T18:32:00.002-06:00

Swallow that pride, darling
and stiff upper lip.
We all gotta learn, baby
this day or the next.
So tie up that pretty hair
and wear your stockings today
coz vanity will get you nowhere
when you gotta beg your heart away.

Cheers, my good fellow.

2010-01-02T06:12:00.005-06:00

It's like being in a glass of champagne. You know the pretty beige at the bottom, where bubbles rise in a sparkling display of cheer and weightlessness? Not that. It feels more like I'm lying on the surface of the liquid. The part that no one looks at, which is turbulent and full of bubbles bursting all around me while I try frantically to miss all of them. In the hope that I can escape and figure out why something that is celebratory, and deemed by the world to be absolutely wonderful, is threatening to burst a bubble right under my dainty little ass and shoot me straight off into the heavens.

Stardust

2009-12-15T16:48:00.008-06:00

Stardust

When the thought of you brings me a smile
and trades nightmares for lullabies
I'll think of them as orange rays
that fill the crinkles of my eyes.

When your song I find in trees
and stone and snow and rocks and sea
I'll think of it as cool green breeze
that lifts my flames past the leaves.

And when I feel my love for you,
It's pure, unadulterated hues,
I'll think of it as lone stardust
sprinkled on my grave of blue.

2009-12-14T16:38:00.008-06:00

A boxful of love was delivered to my house yesterday. The fact that my parents sent me a big pink butterfly-shaped balloon proves that they think I am 6 years old. The fact that I love it proves that I am. :-/

All the goodies absolutely made my day. Aah, the benefits of being a spoiled brat. :)

2009-12-14T16:11:00.004-06:00

"And the air was full of Thoughts and Things to Say. But at times like these, only the Small Things are ever said. Big Things lurk unsaid inside."
- Arundhati Roy, (The God of Small Things)

It is the tendency of human nature to ignore the Big Things, even when they are chewing us up inside, desperate to break out and start a story of their own, and still, we keep them hidden, afraid that if released they would spread like spores and fill everyone with the knowledge of your vulnerabilities. So we make a big deal of the Small Things. It is what keeps us all happy, sane, and helps us survive.

I live in denial of Big Things, and Big words, looking at them with the corner of my eye. Yes, it is the tendency of my nature to smooth over the Big Things, while My God of Small Things stands forlorn, invalidated. I pretend to be content with what I give, and revel in the small tokens of acceptance that I might throw your way.

Teacher

2009-11-24T18:35:00.007-06:00

I still remember the day I met you. We were both young, and neither of us understood much of what was happening. I was happy, though, for sure. You just seemed confused, happy as long as milk was being provided.
You slept in your little bed-box. Sometimes you climbed out too. You got my little pink stuffed elephant because Mummy said you felt lonely sleeping all alone at night. I remember how much it would stink later on! I didn’t mind though, even when you tore it to pieces. I liked you, you see. Even when you chewed up all our dolls and slippers, even when Papa was so angry at you because you tore his uniform. Even when you peed on me when I was showing you off to my friend, I still liked you.
I also remember the day you bit me. And I had to get a shot. Well, I guess there was a day I didn’t like you.
And then you grew!! You were bigger than me for a while, and wouldn’t fit in my arms! And you yelled at everyone! Even when one of us came home, you would run and slide and bark at the door mad as a dog! Not much with Papa though, you’d sit staring at the door, ears cocked, waiting to jump on him as soon as he comes home.
You loved us so much, even when we took you to the vet, even when we gave you a bath knowing fully well how much you disliked it. Even when we all ate a yummy dinner and forgot to give you your share. You jumped and wagged and loved. As if that’s all you knew how to do.
And then I grew up, and you could fit into my arms again. Now you’re old. And your doctor says we should feel lucky to still have you around. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve always known how lucky I was... am. I loved coming home to you. I loved holding you when you came into my room at 2am, shaking from the noise of the firecrackers.
I know your eyes don’t work so well now, and your ears don’t always hear when they should. Though I know you’ll never read this or hear me say it, I know you know how I feel. Because you know Love. You should, you taught me how to.

What's on your mind?

2009-11-11T14:24:00.007-06:00

"There’s too many things I haven’t done yet.

Too many sunsets I haven’t seen."

"I apologize once again, I’m not in love

But it’s not as if I mind that your heart ain’t exactly breaking.

Yes, I deserve nothing more than I get,

Coz nothing I have is truly mine."

You never asked me this, but I’ll tell you anyway. I hate that everything I write turns out being about you. I hate that I can see where I’ll be ten years from now. I hate that you expect me to be a certain way, and then I am.

You never asked me, darling, but I’ll tell you anyway. I am going to go to Egypt one day. And Paris. And Rome. And all the clichéd places that one wants to see. Who knows, maybe even live there for a while. What scares me is that I’ll turn 50 and I still won’t have done any of this.

You never asked me, but lemme tell you anyway. I hate that you have an opinion on everything that I am. And I hate that it matters to me.

You, on the other hand, never asked me. Annoyingly selfless as you are, You gave me everything: birth, life, lessons and laughter, and still, you didn't ask me. All this time I have loved you and fought with you and rebelled against you. It took me a while to come around. You never asked me, but I’ll tell you anyway. I miss you. So much so that it aches. I do, I love you.

Ode to my Pimple

2009-10-01T16:11:00.004-05:00

Wave the flags, and drop the anchor,
Fire the flare gun, and shout SOS
What’s right is now wrong,
It doesn’t make sense,
I’m in la la land, and something’s amiss.

It’s a mole hill, a mountain
On my face,
Oh what a situation,
What a terrible disgrace!!

Its pink and puss,
And full of disgust.
It spoiled all my plans!
It didn’t like my life in la la land.

The uninvited guest,
If I know what’s best
I won’t preen and prune
Or sulk or brood.
I’ll just watch it, obsessed
For days on end,
Till it decides to say goodbye
With a friendly bend
And departs with satisfaction,
at a job done well.
And leaves a small reminder
Of my days in cosmetic hell.

Yet, this small interruption
In my world of deception
Won’t deter me in the least
As I go back where it’s clean,
And glowy and smooth.
My friends, toodle doo!
Till my hormones come back
to a “normal” stand,
I’m going back to la la land!

ctrl-alt-del (part II)

2009-09-17T15:21:00.004-05:00

Three easy steps to throw that useless other half out of your system! Refresh your life!

1. Ctrl – Take charge. Realize that you are in control of your life, your decisions, and your heart. Take control.

2. Alt - Alter your mindset. Alter your lifestyle. Alter everything that you know makes your heart skip a beat. Use step 1 while implementing rule 2. For example, when you get a whiff of that perfume you know so well, stop breathing. (You could just walk away, but the first is more entertaining for those around you.)

3. Del – Delete the bastard(s) from your life. Del everything that reminds you of them. Del, del, del. Throw it in the garbage, burn it, donate it. Never buy anything that would make you relapse to your previous lifestyle.

These three simple, easy to follow rules will help you be happier, look sexier and get back to your life. Do what you’ve been trying to do for months, or maybe even years – avoid that heartburn. Give your heart a rest. Follow the cntrl-alt-del steps, and shed those extra pounds!

ctrl-alt-del (part I)

2009-09-17T15:20:00.002-05:00

To fight to the finish,
Was what I had planned for ages,
But helplessness,
In my mind and my soul,
Oh the deliciousness
Of letting myself go
Is tempting, is beckoning
But helplessness
Is such a sad state to be in
The helplessness
Would engulf my whole existence
Till I can’t find air to breathe in.
How easy it would be
To roll in self pity
To know this is the end,
Of consciousness.
But helplessness
Is something I can live without
And when I do
I find I’m free
I’m in control
I’m happy
The laughter seems a new
part of my reality,
I got you out of my mind
Out of my sight, out of my soul.
I’m free, wheeeeeee!
To live without a heart tied down
To a string tied down
To a stone
At the bottom of the sea.

Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

2009-09-10T23:10:00.006-05:00

It was a Monday, and a rainy one at that. I don't remember the date, just that, because years afterward, the song “Rainy days and Mondays” (you remember how we both liked the Carpenters, and Abba?) reminds me of that day. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Yes, it’s the other way around.

“No need to talk it out, we know what it’s all about”

And that’s what you did. So I talked it out with myself. Rationalized, negotiated, and then finally understood and accepted what had been the reality for you months and months before. It’s all good now, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t even matter. It doesn’t.

I’ll never forget the ride home that day. Till that day, I had been spoiled, pampered, driven all the way back home. That day, I wanted to take a bus, and you didn’t mind. You dropped me off at the bus stop, and it was raining. I wonder if you knew that I hate being in the rain. You drove off, and I found myself tearing up. I don’t know if the lady next to me noticed the soft tears flowing, or that I spent half an hour trying to write exactly how I felt, in a text message. I wonder if you kept it.

There is so much that I can write, so much that I still remember. What I wore, what you said, how you said it, what you meant. It doesn't matter though, it was years ago, and I don’t miss you. Another friend’s story, of heartache, of walking away and not looking back, brought back memories, it seems of so long ago. That rainy Monday, I don’t know which one of us walked away, but I found my way back. I found my way home.

To-morrow

2009-09-02T02:22:00.004-05:00

I can't sleep, can't sleep,
oh give me a break.
I need to work, I need to sweep
some little white mice off their feet
tomorrow morning, bright and early.
oh, it makes me grumbly,
to hear the clock ticking,
tick tock, constantly.
Now wouldn't it be swell,
if they stopped ticking as well
and pretended like I do,
like I don't need to work
and I don't need to worry,
like I won't be sorry,
when I ignore the bells ringing in my ear
and get up when afternoon is near.
No, I must rest, I must be prepared
for another day, a future bared.
one more bowl of cereal,
one more dash for the bus,
another search for missing keys.
another day, another clock.
nah, don't feel sorry for me,
its not as bad as I make it look. :)

Sometimes..

2009-09-02T02:06:00.003-05:00

I'm trying to sleep and I can't. I'm not restless, but when I close my eyes, I can see, rather I can feel in my chest, a vast empty space, a big field or a meadow, with nothing but a big tree in the centre. The emptiness of it presses down on me, intimidates me. There is no wind, no breath, just a stifling rareness in the air. Then I imagine water filling up the field. Even though I can't see any walls or boundaries, the water rises, and fills it up. Now the water touches the lowest branches of the tree till it looks like it is gasping for air. And like this it will stand.. just like this, gasping for air, till you decide to pull the plug and let the water drain away...

LDR

2009-05-31T22:46:00.003-05:00

It’s the relatively new word in my vocabulary, newer than LOL and older than FML. It’s the new phenomenon affecting the lives of young adults, and consequently older adults in this new world we like to call the global village. It arises from the abundance of choices, or the lack of it. It’s the Long Distance Relationship.

My feelings towards LDR are ambiguous at best. While necessary and unavoidable, they cause a lot of… let me see if I can put this any other way… nope, can’t. Unhappiness. Complications include time zones, geographical differences; side effects include an increased fondness for the telephone, the laptop and the internet.

Lately, my whole life seems like a long distance relationship. Parents, sister, nieces, friends, pet.. Love, hate, fight, support, cry, laugh, over the telephone. My brain seems to have a LDR with my body. My weekdays have a LDR with my weekend, and my weekend feels like my work is on another planet!

But what am I complaining about? The choices I have made, however good or poor, have brought me here. And honestly, no regrets. While no one was looking, I got confused, I made some sense, I figured me out and I got lost again. I found some friends, and some not-so-much-of-friends. I grew up. Yep, no regrets. Because in the end, I think it’ll all be worth it. Isn’t that what we tell ourselves?

A Song for the Spring

2009-05-02T00:20:00.008-05:00

When you hang up the phone,
do you laugh a little laugh?
When you're on the bus alone,
do you smile a smile-and-a-half?
Does the sun look happier with the bumble bee?
Does the grass look greener, do you see
the flowers,
the yellow amongst the green,
the white laden on the trees?
Do you give yourself a quiet hug,
do you feel like the world
could be more than a shrug?
more than rice, more than brown
more than a handshake and a frown.
You are happy, my friend
Its all part of the plan,
of the vagaries of life,
So spread the magic while you can.

=)

Bus Stop

2009-04-23T16:48:00.008-05:00

There's the one on the phone all the time.

Then there's the one with the mirror in her hand, fixing her lip gloss as she waits.

The one with the ipod pretending the world doesnt matter.

The one in shorts on a windy day, shivering his ass off.

The one eating chips for breakfast.

And the one who almost misses the bus, in a huff and a puff.

The snob, the friendly face, the smile, the glare.

The loner, the group, the couple, the crowd.

The one who doesn't know where he's going,

and the one who doesn't want to find out.

Which one are you?

Distracted

2009-03-29T16:08:00.006-05:00

The aider in place,
The abettor in its case.
Everything is set,
for productivity at its best.
And still, minds wander
to places, times fonder.
The buzz is incessant
The voices incoherent.
Stop talking, stop laughing
Your voice is distracting.
Oh why can't i see
what is right in front of me?
I should pull my wits together,
stop writing this letter!
Start learning what I should know
so in my time, I can go.

Twelve

2009-03-16T03:57:00.008-05:00

December, could I be there forever?

December, when I felt at home.

December, when my thoughts weren’t cold.

December, my beginning, my end, my new, my old.

December, how can I let you be?

Remember the giant wheel, the lighted tree?

Reunited, we found the sandy shore

We found the past, and made some more.

Remember the skyline, the butterfly, the whale?

The climb on the rocks, the margarita on the bay,

December, you made me laugh so hard,

All parts of me adored, every bit and shard.

December, could I love you forever?

The starry skies, the blurry days.

I do, Unconditional-ly surrender

To the New Year’s bell, the Hard Rock café.

December, would you come back to me?

Could you be something more than a memory?

Can I pretend that time won’t steal you away from me?

Could you stay the Unceasing, my solace, my all and every?

---

Night after day, you go so far away.

I can see you waving a sad goodbye.

But wait, what’s this you left behind?

Is this to help me let go, or to help me find?

Hide and seek

2009-03-11T21:18:00.005-05:00

Holi crept up on me when I wasn’t paying attention.

Just like a couple of other things.

You, for example. And the sunshine you bring.

The rain and the wind, they caught me by surprise.

The picture, the lost earring, the truth and the lies,

To all things unexpected, I can gulp and adjust,

Swallow the pride, the expectations, the trust.

What happened to the colours I threw on you, my friend?

Where did you go while time was trying to mend

The cracks in the jar, the tear in the tee?

All this time I thought you were right behind me

I didn’t see how fast I could walk, how careless I could be.

It creeps up on you when you expect it the least

And leaves you reeling with a feeling of unease.

And yet, sometimes, the unexpected can please.

When you look and you search,

and you pray that you find,

That’s when it’s sure

to play hard-to-get, and hide.

And then you sigh and you look

The other way and pretend

To be happy with what you took,

And then it begins, or does it end?

It creeps up on you when you expect it the least

And sometimes the feeling is anything but unease.

You thought you had futilely searched

Far and wide, and halfway around the world.

Who knew it was there, in your sight but far away.

Till it came to you, when you thought it had flown away.

I was dreaming, so I couldn't be snoring, right?

2009-03-08T17:33:00.003-05:00

There was rain, and there was snow. How could they be falling together? I looked up with wondrous awe. Ah, but that was part of the charm.

Sun. There was a bicycle. An old lady on a bicycle, riding very very fast. Almost like roadrunner. Except this was on the green lush hills of Missouri. Or was it the Great Wall of China? She left behind a very slow, very confused old man also on a bicycle. She was having too much fun to look back.

My sister was getting married. I could hear everyone just outside. Why is the room full of suitcases? My stuff is here somewhere, if only I could find it. My mother calls. Wait, don’t start without me!

My tooth fell out. Not easily. It dangled on a hook for some time, then popped out. I smiled at the mirror. Oh no, there’s a gaping hole that shows!!

A man in a bright yellow suit. Now why would anyone wear a yellow suit AND be singing on stage? At first it made me smile, and I wanted to laugh, but I was too timid to. Besides, there were so many people around me, strangers. Where did they come from? How did the man in the yellow suit end up on screen? Everyone was laughing. I tried hard not to. But I couldn’t not. I ended up laughing too much.

None of it makes sense, I hardly ever do. But I woke up with a smile, and went out of the house in a good mood and a hurry.

Wait, is that rain? And is that snow? I need an umbrella.

I need to wake up.

10 amazing facts about dreams

Bell the cat, won't you, Eyes?

2009-03-03T10:32:00.006-06:00

The mice all sat in gloom one day

For the cat wouldn’t bell, try as they may.

They tried and they tried, but the cat got away.

It seemed as if the cat knew! what plans they had made.

A mouse called Fay,

She was small and gay.

She was wise beyond her ears,

But all of them knew nay.

All she said was try and try

Till the cheese melts and the milk curdles

We shall not give up, jump over the hurdles.

They tried once, they tried again,

The cat wouldn’t bell! Oh it was such pain.

The mice couldn’t play, they couldn’t be merry.

For the cat was as sly as… well, as a cat on a ferry!

A mouse called Eyes, he was small and shy.

He had tried once, he had tried again.

He had given up, oh it was such a pain!

But when all of the mice had tried and failed,

Eyes, the mouse, he heard Fay speak

He took a chance and a bell, and without a squeak,

This time he tied the ribbon around the cat’s tail.

and lo and behold! He did prevail.

The mice could play, and the mice were merry

Because they kept trying, they found a way to be happy!

Crowded

2009-02-28T15:24:00.003-06:00

An empty room
A vase, a plant
Is it real? Is it not?
Some pillows, some books
An obituary.
A past, Some dreams,
A scenery.
A clock that goes tick tock tick tock.
Horses and dogs that would
come alive if she turned around.

A sunlit scene,
a girl curled up in a chair.
Afraid of her thoughts
that sound louder than she would dare
in the profound silence
she hadn't noticed till now.

Tassels and lamps
and flowers of thread,
drenched in the warmth
of an afternoon sun.
Filled with stories of unknown ones,
The empty room.

Its just a thought, only a thought.

2009-02-26T16:02:00.001-06:00

Ok, so I’ve never been a revolutionary. I’ve never had problems with rules or wanted to rebel. (Well, don’t ask my parents.) I’ve never been angry at the world. At one point or the other, I’ve been angry at subsections of it… What am I getting at? I don’t know. Maybe that’s the whole point.

I’ve never had an epiphany about what life is like or about. Does that mean I don’t know? I don’t have intelligent ideas on what I believe in, or don’t. And neither do I have a problem with that. I live every day, as it comes. Without expectations. Not to say that I don’t think. Oh I have opinions, but they are not from over analyzing things and trying to make sense of them. They are just because of how and what I have come across in my life so far. If someone asked me if I ever wanted to get married, I would say, “It depends.” And they would have a hard time believing that I am not being diplomatic. Besides, I think a lot more than I say. Or so I would like to believe! ;) I still delight in what is ordinary about me, and the little bit of not-so-ordinary.

I am full of contradictions, but I’m comfortable with them. In fact, it’s one of the things I love about myself! Can a feminist like pink? AM I even a feminist? It depends. Are you lifting my suitcase because you thought you could do it, or you thought I couldn’t? Am I just who I am, or am I just still trying to create a comprehensible stream of ideas from all that I know? And if I myself don’t know who I am, then how would others?

All I can tell you is, don’t believe in looks and a half hour of talk. Don’t even go by the bits of insight I offer about me. I’m often misleading. Because you see, it seems I have no clue!

(This is what happens when you hang around people who think so clearly and get you stumped because their E/IQ is a hundred more than yours. Dang it! )

Life, Love, and me

2009-01-24T15:31:00.002-06:00

What did you do
broke me to pieces,
then picked up each one
and gave them your kisses.
How did you see
what the future held for me?
knowing I would fall
wouldn't they let me be?
They found me all broken,
they gave me your kiss.
She wound me all up
in her love and embrace.

Now you throw me one more
now you show me some more
what would you do next?
let your powers rest.
Play with my mind
play with my heart.
Break me to peices,
tear me apart.
Test me my love,
test me my faith,
test me my person
show me the way.

Let me give them your kiss
let me find them a bay
let me wind them all up
in your love and embrace.
Its time for the broken
by the same token
to mend the parts stolen
from another mistake.

Your games I would play
your risks I would take
that I would find myself broken
in pieces again.

On request by 'anonymous' :-D

2008-03-21T03:59:00.002-05:00

My relatives know it as the “Euphoria night”. There was nothing very euphoric about it, except that we attended a Euphoria concert. But the reason it’s so infamous has nothing to do with Palash Sen.
Let me explain. We had our college fest going on. My friend came to pick me up in her car. We both were dressed up for the occasion, me in a slinky halter, and she in a shirt with a window on the back. :-p

Now two minutes after we left home, we had our car’s bumper scraped off by a truck. It would have been fine, (we were fine, and the car was only slightly damaged) except that we had both very smartly forgotten to carry our jackets! So the poor girl got off, and was arguing with the driver while a dozen people gathered to watch the spectacle, while I was quietly sitting in the car, trying to think of some way to help.

Thankfully my parents came quickly, Mom carrying a jacket I had to ask her to get! Of course my friend had also called her mother, and her brother and he brought along a couple of friends, who had come for moral support it seemed. But by that time everything was under control. I was thankfully covered up, and when the commotion ended, we went off to see the concert. Which was loads of fun of course, but slightly overshadowed by our experience of the evening.

We learnt some very valuable lessons that night, the hard way. Never try to overtake a truck from the left, and always carry a jacket when wearing backless clothes. *blush

2007-12-13T11:26:00.002-06:00

omg, for the first time i tried to organize a trip. So many problems, i lost count. So i decided to write them down. So many problems with the girrrls, so many with the guys. (Mostly with girls, sorry to say)

1. Parents-
1a. No permission if its too far
1b. No permission if its for too many days.
1c. No permission if its all girls (not safe)
1d. No permission if there are any boys (not safe)
1e. No permission for trains ( how will you carry all your stuff AND find a taxi AND reach on time?) (This one actually left me speechless)
1f. No permission if any "kids" are driving (so unsafe)
1g. No permission if its too isolated.
1h. No permission if its too crowded.

2. Budget.

3. Place. Oh god, the place. Till the night before we are supposed to leave, we don't know where we're going. Some people have a problem because its too far, they have to get back on time (make that 1i), people just can't agree on a place!

4. How to get there. Cab..? Who'll arrange it..? It should be someone we can trust. It should be someone who won't squeal all.

5. Place.

6. What to do once we get to the place.

For heaven's sake, I just wanted to get out.

Asmi

2007-05-01T19:33:00.002-05:00

I am me, without you
I am a mind of my own,
On my own
I am a thought, uninduced
Not influenced by sage or fool

I am the wisdom to know
I am the courage to ask
I am the strength in my bones
it takes to find my own path.

I am the wish to acquiesce
I am the will to resist
I am the desire to love, and be loved
I am the whim to loudly sing.

I am not the rainbow, above the clouds
For I am but one in a crowd.
But I am whole,
And I am me,
Because I am free.

Aristotle?? Nah.. me!

2007-01-19T13:56:00.002-06:00

Tragedy causes a catharsis, purging the soul of base concepts, said Aristotle. How is that possible? Tragedy, trauma, even just unhappiness.. Doesn’t that invoke the very base concepts that remind us of our very mortality and humble existence that is governed by feelings like pain and grief? Instead of purging the soul, it fills it to the brim. Like what they say.. pain reminds you that you’re human. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.

Tragedies are always beautiful when they’re not true. Stories of unconditional love.. always better when I know they’re not real. Take Romeo and his Juliet. I would cry and feel bitterly for their mercilessly interrupted love story, as long as I know it’s fictional. Somehow I would be highly sceptical if someone told me that they actually existed and died for each other. As if. Besides, that would just be dumb.
The cause for all this ranting is a movie I have just seen. It was an implicit portrayal of a director’s real love story with a movie star. And how he gives up everything for the schizophrenic actress who is desperately in need of help and love. Written by, of course, the director himself. It was such a blatant lie that I had to repeatedly get the thought out of my mind to enjoy the movie. It was, again, a beautiful tragedy as long as he doesn’t pretend that it is real. The whole thing leaves me with a queasy feeling in the tummy. God knows why.

Tech pest

2006-09-23T14:07:00.001-05:00

It seems to me that I should have been born in the 17th century. Apart from getting to live the simple life, I would not have had to face the wrath of technology, which has, for some inexplicable reason, decided that I am not worth using it.
Thanks to doting parents, I have everything I could ask for. Computer, laptop, ipod, kinetic, pen drive, mobile, you name it. Due to reasons I cannot understand, they all have decided to abandon me. One by one.

First my kinetic broke down. The fact that it almost never has enough petrol has still not trained it to run on air.

Then I lost my pen drive. In college, to make it worse. Strike two.

THEN, my laptop suddenly decides to die. Just like that. Without prior notice. The details are too painful.

My ipod decides it can’t live without the lappy, so it tries to die. It is revived, but without the videos and half the songs. Putting those in it again requires loads of patience, which I regrettably lack.

Mobile phones are not happy with me and switch on and off as they please.

I think we should have like, a users union, so we can make our appliances give us a month’s notice before going poof. Then, at least I could have saved the pictures. :(

A hundred shades.. which one’s mine?

2006-09-13T15:06:00.002-05:00

I finally thought I should throw away the pieces of conversation I’ve saved and stored for so long. They’re meaningless, I thought. Then I took them out, and I opened one. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. Conversations scribbled on backs of notebooks, pieces of paper, surreptitiously written when the teacher was saying something we weren’t interested in. The beginning of the friendship, the faint hint of there being more to it than that.. all recorded in black and white and hidden away in a file, apart from the recesses of my mind.

I was lying in bed trying to make sense out of a confused jumble of thoughts. And slowly I succeeded. Empathy, forgiveness, letting go, all of the phrases made sense. As I read these scraps a few minutes later, I felt no anger, instead, I was smiling as I remembered. And I marvelled at how a part of me had been revealed to myself, previously unknown, hidden, and maybe even non existent. Its buried now again, hidden and protected, not to be taken out for some time. Healing. But I now know that when it does, it can be as beautiful as the setting sun. And that’s saying something.

I couldn’t throw them away. Not because I had foolish hopes. Those I'd dispelled as I lay thinking about it. But how can you throw away something that makes you smile and sad at the same time, reminds you of what you held dearest, reassures you about your worth, teaches you about love? Everyone should have memories like this, that they cherish for as long as they can, even if it had a sad ending. Now I know how its better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.

But, honestly, it wouldn’t hurt to have a happy ending.

“Maybe there are one hundred shades for explaining the truth, a spectrum of light to dark, depending on the vulnerability of those who have to hear it. Things are not always so clear-cut, they are not either black or white, life just isn’t like that.”

--'Hundred Shades of White', Preethi Nair

A wedding in the making

2006-09-07T13:12:00.001-05:00

Planning for a wedding ain’t easy. So I’m assuming. Since the planning for the upcoming wedding in our family has just barely started, I can’t say.
The wedding planners, if u can call them that, had come home today. With loads of pictures on colour themes and menus and more confusing colour themes. Of all the weddings I’ve ever been to, I don’t think I’ve ever even noticed the colour themes. But there you have it.

And then the confusion about the bride’s identity. Of course, we know who’s getting married. But my sister’s conspicuous absence requires me to fill in for her. I’ve draped so many saris and lehengas and chosen so many suit pieces that I feel like the bride’s maid of honour. Which, by default, I am, I guess.
The confusion became apparent when one salesman started to say, “Don’t worry, everything is going to be just as you want it..” Before he could go any further, he was interrupted by an uproar, successfully created by me, my mother and my father.
“No no its not my wedding!”
“elder sister, not her…”
“not her”
“haha..”
I think the poor guy actually got scared.
Very funny it was.

Also, the fact that there are three other cousins who have either gotten married or are getting married within six months of each other, spices things up a bit. Four weddings in a half year is not a simple feat, even for our family.

Three love marriages
One arranged match.
People coming from all over India, and more.
Add some sugar, a little salt, pepper, and you have a first class recipe for a chaotic, fun, eventful, unforgettable year.

Ooh, and I get to wear a sari!!

2006-09-06T13:17:00.001-05:00

Him that I love - let him be free, even from me.

Now, i forget who said this, but why would I want the person I love to be free from me? Him that I love, let him be just as bound to me as I am to him, thats what i say. Hmm.. I’m not exactly the advocate of selfless love.

A review

2006-09-02T13:43:00.001-05:00

The really good things about exams is you realize how much you love your life when they’re not around. And so, as soon as mine got over, I got down to serious business..after all, lazying around is hard work. Saw Runaway bride for the hundredth time, and read Love Story for the thousandth.

The reason I find Love Story such an amazing book, I might even say comforting book, is because unlike other books, it does not question the existence of true love. The book begins and ends, and you never doubt the fact that love, when you find it, is true and everlasting. No frustration about relationships not working out, about right and wrong, misunderstandings, people cheating, and all else that is mundane. It makes you sad, yes, but in a good way. It may be cliched, but it is original for me. You get really involved with the characters and their story and there are a very few books that can do that.

Oliver’s Story, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. I didn’t like the sequel, because it is everything that love story is not. While Love Story is a pure, innocent love story, here it seems like Oliver’s got an agenda in his life. Which is why it lacks the charm that the first book has.

Even so, I don’t think I’ll be taking it on my journey tomorrow. Most idiotic to start crying over a book on a plane.

2006-08-09T12:56:00.001-05:00

I like my new telephone, my computer works just fine , my calculator is perfect, but Lord! I miss my mind.
-- Anonymous

Recently I acquired a new cell phone. Usurped my dad’s actually. The fact that its already about a yr old in no way deters me from telling everyone I got a new phone. Just like the fact that hardly anyone ever calls me in no way deters me from subscribing to and keeping a “hello tune”, which is what they call it when you get to hear a song of my choice instead of the boring tring tring when you call me. The day I got it I told my friend to call me up, who promptly did and was dutifully impressed and excited. Next I told my sister to call me up. And let the phone ring a bit, so there’d be no room for doubt. Her response was a bit discouraging.

“tring tring”.. or rather should I say.. “hips don’t lie..”
Me: “hello..”
Sis: “yea, what?”
“What what? Didn’t you hear the hello tune??”
“Oh that.. ya.. what was that?”
“Shakira!”
“Never heard it”
“humph”

Nevertheless, I persevere. Tomorrow, I shall download a new wallpaper to adorn my cell.

Excuse me, I have a message.

writer's block

2006-08-05T12:30:00.001-05:00

I suppose if I have to keep this blog going, eventually I’m going to have to write something. But here we have a bit of a problem. While my fingers are itching to write, I regret to admit that my life just isn’t so happening so as to provide me with a little bit of initiative.
So I’m putting in a picture, because I’ve heard a picture is worth a thousand words. Lets see how many this is.

A moment of contemplation

2006-07-31T13:44:00.001-05:00

Its funny, how death can change everything.. and sometimes, it can change nothing.
The death of a friend you had 6 years ago, can affect you for a day.. but it won’t for long. You move on in life, and lizards falling on you get more priority. The death of a stranger can affect you for like, five minutes, and then what? How long can you grieve for someone you haven’t even seen?
How long can you grieve for something that was never yours?
A relationship.. a friendship, a sisterhood, a closeness. What was, what might have been, what you gave up that could have been better. Life goes on. You find comfort in others, more importantly, in yourself. In hope.
Death, be it of whatever, can mark a full stop on someone’s life, a comma on others’. And sometimes, you can choose to move on, to not let it affect you.
If you can overcome the disappointment of a hope dashed, and have the strength to make space for hope again in your heart(not necessarily of the hope dashed).. is that wise? Is it the mark of a strong character or a simply foolish one? Is it not better to spare oneself the agony of going through disappointment again? Now that would be “learning from your mistakes”. But then that would also be a very bland, dull existence, won’t it? Hope is that tugging at your heart that makes you look forward to a new day, that makes you do good. You hope that your friend will like your present, so you get them something really good. You hope that you’d make a difference to someone, so you try to help them out. You hope that you’ll have a shoulder to cry on when you really need one, and that makes you hope for everlasting love and security and friendships.You hope that you can someday reciprocate all that you got, and that makes you be nice to your family, and everyone you care about. How can you not have hope?

*sigh* how clueless can one be?

Lizards

2006-07-29T14:15:00.002-05:00

A lizard fell on me today. Literally from the heavens.
Now, you have to understand, I have nothing against these reptiles. I mean, c’mon, we all have to peacefully coexist somehow. I’d just rather they coexist quietly, kind of.. invisibly. (In all fairness, the lizard was quiet as a mouse, or a lizard. I was the one making all the noises.) The thing is, house lizards, or for that matter any kind of lizards, just freak me out. I’ve got lizardophobia. So I guess then it would make sense for kismet to think, “hmm.. know what would be fun…” and thus we have today’s episode.
And kismet picked out a nice fellow too… he (or she.. I honestly don’t know how to tell them apart) was a fine lizard, white as marble, and after I had screamed my head off and kicked it off my leg, he stood there, tail high up in the air and looking at me, challenging me for a rematch. Of course, he scurried away after a few tense moments. And a good thing at that.. a few more moments and I would have been the one scurrying off, and then spending the rest of my life with a broken self esteem.

Now people tell me a lizard falling on you is supposed to mean good luck. That’s like, such an antithesis in itself. Didn’t seem like good luck to me when it fell on my head. Just makes it seem like good luck when I reach the elevator next time and I’m still lizard free. Depends on how you look at it.

Anyhow, good luck or not, I’d like to tell lizards that I respect their slimy existence, but really, pick on someone your own size. I am not a bungee tower.

2006-07-28T14:06:00.001-05:00

Little Lost Soldier Girl: "love is the desire to be desired 'I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I love you to love me'."

2006-07-25T14:32:00.001-05:00

Some excerpts from this book i read.. " Taj, A Story of Mughal India"..

Arjumand:
"..We begin life whole, the sum of many people: fathers, mothers, grandfathers, brothers, cousins, sisters. And then, as they die, one by one, each death lessens that whole. We shrink, we shrivel, whittled down until all that remains from the subtraction is our self."

"Did men die or was it the world that died? Our grasp of mortal things,(isa thought,) is tenuous. When Dara died, he passed from our sight. Or is that an arrogant thought? Did we pass from Dara’s sight?.. It was a subtraction, but of what, from what? If the soul returned to brahma, that was then permanence, the world impermanence. We are subtracted then , not the dead."

2006-07-25T13:56:00.001-05:00

All’s well that ends well… 14 dec 05

Well that’s another sem ended. And not a bad end either. A semester marked by the various respective crushes (landmarks for some, all in a day’s work for others..). heartbreaks, heartaches, heartburns, heartthrobs.. you name it, we got it. R and I saw the exam result today, or rather results… 15 in all if I’m not wrong. And we also saw DB!!! looking very very cute. The thing is, he looks cute only to us. I doubt if we displayed him as our crush, anyone else would find him cute. Quote R “ if I showed him to puneet (her bro), he’d bury me right here.”
And this was when I gave one of my not-yet-famous-yet-extremely-wise theories.
I think falling in love is just a matter of will power. If you want to fall in love with someone, you can. And if you want to fall out of love with someone, you can. Its not fate or destiny. Its you. You decide. And so this whole theory of ‘there is one person for each and everybody’ is false. And I do think so. Of course this theory would only hold if the first impression is what you wish it to be. For example you cannot possibly make yourself fall in love with someone whom you think to be disgusting. He or she has to be at least tolerable. But I think there’s always an element of your will that commands your potential to fall in love with him/her.
Poor r had to listen to all of this and nod along, but I think I managed to find a potential follower in my theory.