The Rivers of Babble-on...

The Wery Madness of it all

2008-06-07T15:57:00.000+05:30

The corridors are empty and there are distant sounds of metal collapsible gates clanking shut. A few lights cast a dim glow over the Lower Main and the Foyer. The rest of the place is shrouded in a foreboding darkness. Suddenly, there’s a tremendous clamour in the Upper Main, as twenty-three girls seem to jerk awake from a stupour and start looking, frantically, for an opening into the world outside. The sounds of racing feet and voices yelling to each other reverberate through the building, making enough noise to awaken the dead. While the blame is being passed around and Plans of an Adventurous and Daring Escape are made, a call is calmly placed…

“Balbir Bhaiyya. Please gate khol do. "

Someone overhears. The news spreads like a ripple. There is a shout of joy as everyone clatters down the stairs of the English Corridor and arrives at the Journo Corridor gate, hope gleaming in their eyes. And beyond the bars stands that reverent man, Balbir Bhaiyya. A following melodrama is essentially enacted. He withholds the keys. The girls plead with him, making loud and earnest promises of caution, obedience and the like. He contemplates. Someone desperately tries to make him comprehend the gravity of the situation. Her mother is waiting for her at the gate. Slowly, with an air of extreme benevolence, he pulls the creaking gate open. The girls race out, jubilant in their freedom.

This is the WMS. To cater to our insistent assertion of affection towards insanity and a miserable sense of humour, we endearingly call ourselves the Wery Mad Society. And it is our life’s mission to proudly live up to that name. This theatrical sequence is a common occurrence as we immerse ourselves in our music, as afternoon fades to twilight. We lose all track of time…

Our motley crew is characterized by eclectic eccentricities, each madness a unique and perfected art. And yet, we’re always in sync as each person adds a different note, a different colour and a different essence to the harmony of it all. We work like a song. Every person, distinct, effortlessly moulds herself into a part of the seamless flow of melody, energy, beauty and love.
The refrains of Scarborough Fair took on new meanings as we released our creative capabilities and plunged into the song. We emerged, gasping, exhausted, but triumphant, holding aloft the fragile trophy of newborn music.

At Lady Hardinge, on a battered stage, in a dilapidated auditorium, with the most anciently decrepit sound system and a deliberately disinterested audience, I turned to my choir-

“Let’s screw with their happiness.”

And we did. It was magnificent. Majestic. It gave me goosebumps. It gave us all goosebumps. We went to KFC to celebrate. The legacy of “vun piece of hod and crisby chiggan” was born.

Red and Black. The contingent. Powerful. Beautiful. We reassure each other. Always. A glance, a huddle, a hug, a silence. We’re there. Spontaneously. Without question. Silently believing in each other and us. We give space. We’re astoundingly tight. And then there are the theatrics…

Gaygay’s sarcasm, Meghana’s one-liners, Smiti’s vehement melodrama, Tania’s feigned non-chalance, Agrima’s vociferous “negotiations”, Jo’s shrieks, Kirin’s supersonic exclamations, Moumita’s incessant chatter, Pollobi’s declarations, Tarini’s whines… The mayhem they all succeed in creating makes them Very Spashull Children.

Chai, NLS, café, greenrooms, syncopation, acapella, sleepovers, friendships, the silence in the wings, impromptu momo plans, brain jams, victories, tears, laughter, more laughter, hysterical laiughter, hysteria… Countless memories that Kirin and I tried our best to capture on brightly coloured laminated sheets with photographs and captions written in her favourite silver pen.

It’s been a wonderful journey, a wonderful feeling and a wonderful year.
We made music together.
And I started believing in magic again.

Sights...

2007-02-18T01:45:00.000+05:30

I find it distinctly amusing that this deliciously dormant blog still manages to gather new visitors…and they enjoy going through age-old entries. I don’t know if it saves me the work updating or increases the expectations to update. Either way, I’m in a random mood, so I shall update. Kindly be charitable enough to excuse any grammatical or expressional errors. I am not, currently, at my wittiest best. My mind is as sluggish as a shimmering hot summer afternoon. I shall, however, endeavor to please.
Before I forget, I must narrate a rather funny incident. Last vacations when I was in Kolkata, I remember being stuck in a colossal traffic jam. The inertness of the situation was not a shock at all. But the reason behind it was! Inching our way forward, when we got close enough to see what the hold up was about, I nearly split my sides laughing. For, you see, the Bengali population is, by far, the most complacent and, thereby, the most hilarious population in India. There was a sudden desire to improve upon the infrastructure of that particular road. Therefore, streetlights were being fixed. Now, there’s this unearthly long ladder held by two men at the base, with a man perched on top. The man has been fixing the streetlights on one side of the road. However, he needs to fix the bulbs on the opposite side. Now, any normal person would have descended the ladder and proceeded to transport it across the road. But, Bengalis are forever over smart. Thus, the man remained perched on top of the ladder, while the men at the base tentatively and painfully tried to keep balance, maintain the ladder at ninety degrees to the road AND walk across the road holding the ladder. The man at the top dragged himself along at the same momentum by virtue of an electrical wire connecting the two streetlights. And, to further obstruct movement, a crowd of say fifty people had gathered around and were yelling up advice, while inching slowly forward with the ladder-holding men! Truly a spectacle worth watching!
I have recently started re-exploring the magic of Disney animations. There’s something about the large dewy eyes and the magical quality of the music that fills one with an eternal child-like wonder. It revives a refreshing part of me that had gotten buried under a whole host of mundane and seemingly adult problems. So, while listening to “The Colours of The Wind” today, I rediscovered the joy of stargazing. Randomly. The sky was like a vaulted ceiling dotted with sparkling diamonds. The night air was crisp and cold with the smell of fresh earth. The sounds of human existence faded into oblivion with the magnitude of the universe. After a long time, I let my soul reach out to the sky today. And the world smiled with me. I rarely feel as wondrously happy as I did today.
I held my baby nephew in my arms. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. To hold so tiny a life in your arms and to see large eyes gazing at your face with innocence and trust is one of the most disarming charms in the world. And coming from me, it counts. I’m really not a baby-fan! But, there are so many things around you that can fill you with joy. All you have to do is look…

It's an illusion!!

2007-01-03T23:47:00.000+05:30

There is an almost imperceptible glimmer of hope in my eye as I write this blog entry…I’m hoping against hope that someone, some wayward blog wanderer may stumble upon this. And if you do, and if you’re reading this, kindly redirect your gratitude and compliments to Skarans, who has been my sole inspiration in writing this entry. Now, before this becomes an Academy Award moment, I shall proceed.
I am currently in Kolkata, visiting my parents (no! I’m not married). Just that it’s difficult to call Kolkata home when I’ve been reared in Delhi. My vacations have been quiet. Too quiet. Reasons being many. Number one, I have no friends here courtesy the aforementioned dichotomy. Number two, Kolkata is the favourite hang out of retired army colonels and a rich variety of senior citizens. Number three, the current primary concern and, therefore, predominant topic of Bengali conversations (apart from food) is the delicate state of Mamata Di’s health. Personally, I am convinced that someone had been slipping her some fish throughout her ‘fast’. For, there is no other plausible explanation as to how a massive body like hers, which is so accustomed to guzzling humongous quantities of food, could survive this sudden deprivation!
So far, my vacations have been spent, if not excitingly, definitely eventfully. The first night I had to stay awake for midnight mass. Now any other time, I love the warmth and peace of a church. Just that, on this particular night, the warmth, peace and quiet at the unearthly hour of 1 in the morning in the church made me overwhelmingly sleepy! Not to say that I didn’t enjoy the sermons and the hymns and the ushering in of Christmas. Only, this time, the appreciation was dimmed by a drowsy haze. My father, who has a little less self-respect and inhibitions when it comes to holy matters, unabashedly fell asleep in church! It was only when a gentle snoring began did my mother, to her fuming indignation, realise her spouse’s apparent blasphemy!! The reason behind my sleepy state, though, was the fact that I had slept a grand total of say 10 hours in the past week. It’s called exam time and the acute terror produced by absolute ‘cluelessness’!!
The second earth-shattering, season changing event that has taken place so far has been my position of office. We’re shifting house. My mother, in a fit of benevolence, decided to appoint me chief – instructor – and - overseer of bathroom fittings! So, the better part of two days, I spent exploring the bathroom showrooms of South Kolkata, rummaging for commodes and matching faucets! I tell you, my life is the epitome of excitement! My new year’s eve was spent in a vain attempt to party. I must realise that there is no possible way I can successfully party with people who are all on the sadder side of 50! And, much as my mother may insist, her friends are NOT my friends and NO, I CANNOT dance to hip-hop numbers with them!!
There have been consolations though! My friend is apparently having a worse vacation than me! And she’s in Goa! The catch being, she’s in Goa alone with her parents! Therefore, she cannot shamelessly letch at guys and must smile politely at random acquaintances! There is, apparently this one acquaintance who has attached himself to her parents with the determination and tenacity of a leech! She frequently refers to him as ‘the obnoxiously boring fart’! This fellow, who plagues the entire family, has not left them alone for even a single evening! However, the peak of hilarity was when my friend mentioned she was spending New Year’s Eve with him and the songs that were playing were “you fill up my senses” and “I’m on the top of the world”!! Her life is a horrid combination of irony and irksome characters!!
On the up-side, my mom’s knitted me a fabulous sweater, I’ve caught up on missed family gossip and lost (after the unfortunate midnight mass) sleep! I have looted my parents and have gorged on home-cooked food. I have derived sadistic cheer from the fact that I’ve finished my exams and that my friends must slog!

Incidentally, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

:)

2006-05-27T01:15:00.001+05:30

I agree!! It has been long! But. I’m back, as I always am…I have a few amusing stories to narrate, along with an annoying tag to fill…so be prepared for a rather long post.
I am currently on my summer vacation. I have travelled form Delhi to Kolkata and from Kolkata to Mumbai, where I am currently settled in considerable comfort in my cousin’s house. (What a beautifully alliterative sentence that was, by the way- pls note, effects of majoring in literature!!) Anyhow, I left the dry, torrid and unbearable heat of Delhi to arrive in the humid, sticky and equally unbearable heat of Kolkata. I took leave of my dear, finicky father to enter into the loving embrace of my dear madcap mother. Yes, my mother, who I am having the pleasure of meeting after 3 months, is as eccentric as ever!! The day I arrived I was greeted with an anecdote of her brilliant faux pas! On the way back from the station we both saw a HUGE billboard outside the station advertising a Maha Sale- as it were- at such-and-such shop. My mother’s face took on the expression of utmost horror. Glancing at her expression, I grew quite alarmed, wondering as to what in that sign could have disturbed my dear mother so deeply. On further inquiry, I discovered the roots of her discomfiture. Apparently she couldn’t stand the magnitude of abusing at such a large and conspicuous manner. For a bit, I was nonplussed. However, regarding the situation from my mother’s perception, I quickly grasped the situation. My dear mother, who had been brought up in a manner where English was English and Hindi was Hindi and, under no circumstances could the two be used side-by-side, had completely misread the billboard. Her mind, not used to reading in Hinglish, had read and understood the sign as “Maha Saale”! She couldn’t believe that people could possibly be so vehement in their likes and dislikes as to display them so publicly. Of course, the fact that reading the sign as Maha Saale was incoherent with the rest of the stuff written on it, was something that my mother chose to give the royal ignore!
Another time was when I was asking my mother when she shampooed her hair last. The relevance or irrelevance is not the point to be discussed here. So, dear readers, do not focus on that. After asking my mother the same question several times, and on receiving no answers, I whined in exasperation, “Mooooooooooooooooooommmmm!!!Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Finally, my mother gave me her, still divided, attention. Looking at me with a vacant expression, she finally said, “Haan? What? Oh yeah, I shampooed my hair last, three days ago…Thursday…no, no…it was Friday…or was it??OHO!” and then the brilliant coinage that only my mother is capable of ladling out in infinite capacity “ I fried my hair on Thursday!!” Apparently, the Thursdays and Fridays were too muddling for her to deal with at one go!
I was visiting my aunt’s place, which is one of the most beautiful houses I have ever seen. Two stories high, it is a charming abode. Painted in cream with terracotta tiles and a lovely terracotta arch at the front…surrounded by a picturesque garden, facing a beautiful canal…. full of greenery and nature…one is woken up in the morning by the sounds of flowing water and birds chirp. It would, honestly, have been paradise on earth if it weren’t for 2 things. Firstly, the north winds. Thanks to this, the not so delicate smells of stagnant water tickle one’s nostrils one time too many in a day! Quite horrid! And the second are the mosquitoes that are present in plenty…. I swear to God, the amount I swelled up, I was more in danger of being branded with the ailment of elephantiasis rather than malaria!! Anyway, now I’m done with my tales, I must fill the tag!
* Taken a picture naked? No..unless you count my baby snaps!
* Made out with a member of the same sex? No
* Danced in front of your mirror? Duh-yeah!
* Told a lie? Only white ones!!
*Gotten in a car with people you just met? Nope!
* Been in a fist fight? Hell yeah!!!*Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? Dunno.I dunno how da other person feels so….and this is the first time. Otherwise, NO!
* Been arrested? No
*Left your house without telling your parents? Maybe..dunno for sure…I usually holler!
* Ditched school to do something more fun? Sure!
* Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex? Yeah..
* Seen someone die? Yes
* Kissed a picture? My pup’s! no human ones!
* Slept in until 3? That’s my biological cycle people!
* Played dress up? Heh! Yeah!
* Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes
*Felt an earthquake? Yes .the music system fell on me!!!
* Touched a snake? Yup. They feel all nice and smooth…didja know that?
* Ran a red light?nope
*been in detention? No, but ive been chucked out of the class. A LOT!
* Been in a car accident? Thank god! No.
*Pole danced? Not exactly! Ive lamp danced tho…treating the lamp as a pole! Does that count?
* Been lost?Hundreds of times!
* Sang karaoke? a few times
* Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? many many times...
* Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? lol..yup..a few times
* Caught a snowflake on your tongue?nope
*Kissed in the rain? yes* Sang in the shower? yeah ..
* Got your tongue stuck to a pole? No. What the-??WHO DOES THAT??
* Ever gone to school partially naked? AGAIN WHY?????????????
* Sat on a roof top? Yeah
* Played chicken? Nope
* Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? No
* Been told you're hot by a complete stranger?sigh! no!!!
* Broken a bone? nope
* Mooned/flashed someone? Huh??
* Forgotten someone's name?all the time!! I suffer from an awful memory
* Slept naked? no
* Blacked out from drinking? I don’t get drunk!
* Played a prank on someone? OF COURSE!
* Felt like killing someone? No…ive hated enough people in my life though
* Made a parent cry? yes...with joy!!
* Cried over someone? Yeah…many someones!!!
* Had sex more than 5 times in one day? No. That’s not a nice question, btw!
* Had/Have a dog? ? Yes to both…
* Been in a band? Sorta
* Drank 25 sodas in a dayâ€¦.aka POP? nope
*Shot a gun? Yeah ..the balloon shooting game!!There!!!
All done! Now , I must thank Akshay for passing on this horrendous tag to me! On my part, I pass it on to no one, for I realise that these wretched things are a tremendous waste of time and energy! Goodbye folks! For another eternity!!!

Well?

2006-03-25T00:35:00.000+05:30

Hello folks! I just realized I haven’t given you guys an adequate introduction to the people I interact with on a daily basis in LSR. Let me begin with the faculty. They are a a myriad and bizarre lot. They include a junkie, a bra burning feminist and a hysterical old lady. We refer to them by their codes. E.g. AM, SN and PP take us for modern Indian literature. Let me go age wise. First of all, there’s this teacher who loathes our class with a passion unheard of. She, I think, is honestly and truly a little balmy. She acts as though all of us spend every second of our spare time conspiring against her and we plot evil plans against her all through the day. For the above reasons, she has burst into hysterical fits of crying thrice this year. The first time was when the mobile of a girl sitting in the back row started ringing in class. Now, honestly, sometimes we all do forget to put our mobiles on silent while in class. After all we are all human. However, our teacher would have none of it. Therefore, her consequent reaction was to throw down her book, glare at he class and then declare in a soft, cold voice that she will no longer be taking our classes. She then walked out of the room. There was a hushed silence in class as is after every teacher yelling any class gets. Then one by one, we decided we should apologise to her. So we went to the staff room. She wasn’t there. After much hunting, we found her in the tutorial block. In a small room she was, crying her eyes out. Of course, all of us were stricken with guilt and felt awful. We went in, apologized to her and tried to console her. Net result, she softened and agreed to resume taking classes .two weeks later, one girl arrived late to class. Our teacher flew into another calm rage. Threw the book down and stalked out. Found in the tut block, crying yet again. This time we found it odd. On asking her why she was so upset and explaining to her that we didn’t do it on purpose and that it happened with every teacher, she worked herself up even more. She screamed that we were all liars and that she thought we were conniving horrors, who only did these things in her class because we hated her. Of course, we were all a little taken aback. However, we made amends again. All went fine for a month, till she caught two girls giggling and whispering in the back row. She yelled at us, saying, how dare we make fun of her. She went through the routine affair of crying and stuff. Yet, this time it was different, she actually stopped taking our classes for a good two weeks. To tell you the truth, we didn’t mind. She’s old and boring and refuses to resign and is toooooooooo sensitive. So we didn’t run after her either. After a while, she burst into our class one fine morning and screamed at us, asking us why we didn’t ask her to take classes again. We replied that we knew she wouldn’t listen anyway, so we didn’t want to push it. She shrieked at us some more. Something about being cheeky little spoilt brats. And stormed out. She appeared for class the next day, in a thoroughly foul temper. She raced through the course cos there wasn’t enough time and cursed us through. Her parting words were “ I’m so glad this year is over. I hate your class. I’m glad we wont have to see each other next year. Good riddance to bad rubbish!” Nuts, I tell you!!!
The next woman in line is the bra-burning feminist. Its great to have a strong take on something and stuff, but honestly when you’re on the sadder side of fifty and certain parts of your anatomy tend to sag and swing, you honestly should think of wearing adequate underwear. Anyway, we are all convinced, that this teacher must have been a Bharatnatiyam dancer at some point of time because the way she moves her hands nd gesticulates while she teaches is something you have to see to believe. When a fifty-something woman with gajra in her hair looks at you with dream eyes, and moves her hands around her head in circles (like someone possessed) in order to drill the meaning of ‘exfoliating circles’ into your head, it is distinctly funny. Actually, it’s hilarious! But she’s a brilliant teacher, so no complaints!
Then we have a teacher who is addicted to paan parag, shows up fifty minutes late for a fifty-five minutes class and refers to us by our roll numbers. She’s quite crazy and makes no bones about the fact. She walks in and out of very serious seminars chewing gutka like a cow, oblivious to the fact that she’s a massive disturbance. She treats us like inmates of a prison: “ kaidi number 250” and so on! She reads in class:”page 35 children, Mr. bounderby said…” we look up and she’s asleep on her bosom, which begins from her stomach and ends at her knees. She wakes up after a short nap “yes pg 35…actually no, it’s dull, move on to pg 189!” it’s said that she had an affair with Salman Rushdie, but after they broke up, she’s been a bit touched up there!
Other minor catastrophes are our philosophy teacher and two of our Victorian lit professors. Our Phil teacher is young and asexual. She absolutely nullifies the existence of the opposite sex and has never had a boyfriend or a crush or even an infatuation. She doesn’t have any opinion on hunks, doesn’t even think of any guy as cute. She thinks George Clooney and Brad Pitt are ok, wateva!! The first one of our Victorian literature teachers is an over excited, hyper active woman who’s doing her M Phil. She talks at 500 decibels and shakes the table so much; we think she might break it one day. We’re planning to buy earmuffs next year, if she still takes us. The last one is a woman who claims that children are parasites and they live off you and that they suck the life out of their mothers. Now she’s gone and gotten herself pregnant. Brilliant example, huh?
Now, my classmates. There’s a girl who looks like the Wicked Witch of the West. She’s 5 feet 11 inches tall and is of a heavy body build. She dresses in black everyday. It would’ve been ok if she had worn a black tee and jeans or even a little black dress. But no, she wears this calf length black skirt with ragged edges, and a black poncho. She has long black hair and her skin is white. That’s because she is caked with makeup. Her lips and cheeks are a brilliant red; she wears black eye shadow and powders her face to an unearthly, eerie white. Her nails are red too and she wears golden shoes. I swear she’s not a figment of my imagination. Her sidekick/ friend is someone who’s top half looks like Pamela Anderson and bottom half looks as though she borrowed it from one of the seven dwarves and then had a sex change! Her face bears a resemblance to Crazy Frog. Then, there’s a girl in my PG who’s always mixed up. Yesterday, we were in the market when her foot banged against my heel. I turned around and said “ Ow! That hurt! What do you have that is so sharp on your foot?’ Thoroughly flustered, she got confused between her toes and her nail and loudly proclaimed “my nose!”
Well then, au revoir…

Masti...

2006-03-05T15:27:00.000+05:30

Seems like it’s time for my monthly update! Well, well… I guess I have tons to say. I can now officially be referred to as a ‘good’ girl! I have spent the last two weeks in rescuing an injured puppy (by getting its foot amputated), taking milk twice a week for poverty stricken children and protesting against Bush and Manu Sharma. I feel utmostly proud of my achievements and myself. The life in the PG has suddenly taken quite a few interesting twists. The first one was when the PG wale uncleji decided to install security cameras all over our PG. Honestly, after having a curfew of eight pm and being locked in with double locks by nine and having a security guard posted outside 24/7, ‘security’ cameras was a bit much! Thus, all of us seventeen created a huge hullabaloo and went up in arms against the entire idea. As they said in yesterday’s march “ its not just about this, its about the system!!” Then, day before yesterday, we had a right royal ‘booze party’ in our PG. Considering our night life usually raps up by seven pm, we were in dire need for some ‘fun’! And what better way, than buying breezers and beers? So we ‘partied’ till about 4 am. We drank our drinks, went to pee, and then listened to some shit good music.
Oh shit!! I sound soooooooo wannabe! Nah, but it was damn nice. Anyway, yesterday at the march, there were some really funny slogans…as in not funny in what they said, but funny in the way they were said! The ruling one was “ we want justice!” so a bunch of highly passionate and enthused NSD guys screamed out “we want…” and the crowd cheered “justice!!” this was said at a fast and energetic pace. However, after a bit, people started tiring of yelling at such speed, so this wispy, wimpy guy took over. He was thin and shrunken and yelled out in a peevish nasal voice and crawling pace “veeeeeeeeee vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant…” and the crowd cheered, “jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasteeeeeeeeeeeece!!” Brilliant that was! I couldn’t help but giggle! Then us LSR girls got sick of chanting, “we want justice!” So we started our own slogan: “Sarkar humse darti hai, police ko aage karti hai!” Unfortunately, ten girls yelling in shrill voices don’t overpower the crowd and our feeble yells died out. But we remained triumphant about the fact that at least we had taken initiative to do our own thing! After that we all put our candles down in front of Jessica’s picture. My hands and jeans were covered in wax, but it was for a good cause. From India Gate a bunch of us went off to Nehru Park to attend a Shubha Mudgal concert. It was really, really, really good, to get out and have some good, healthy fun. You miss out on a lot of good stuff when you’re in a PG. College has more or less rapped up most of the ‘fun’ stuff, and everyone around has dived into a pile of books. All one can hear around these days are mutterings of theorems or sighs of exasperation. Honestly, one would think it was the boards!! I have put on weight. For all I do is sit on my big fat bum and peacefully expand! See, when you’re staying about five minutes walking distance away from college, you NEVER feel like walking. Lethargy gets the better of you! So you get up at 8:45 am for a 9:00 class and leave at 8:57 in a rickshaw for college! And then you take a rick back during assembly time, have a bath and take a rick to college again. Then after college, you excuse is that it’s too hot. So into a rickshaw you go again! And it really doesn’t help to have regular meal timings. For in between meals, people invariably have food. And it’s this curious habit that emerges from community living, that makes you greedy, not hungry! If you want something from the back market, you just wait for someone else to go and then you give that person the list and the money! Geez! It’s obnoxious! Pure lethargy and pure lard is a horrible combination! And so, I have stopped eating in between meals and have started going on regular walks. Thus, my dad is convinced that I’m dieting and will become anorexic in a matter of weeks! In the same way he remains convinced of the fact that if I meet a hot guy once, means that I’ve met him everyday since! Fathers, I tell you! Pooh! I’ve gone back to reading Enid Blytons again. It’s great. After reading stuffy Victorian novels or complex Indian writings and critically analyzing both, it feels good to read about Naughty Amelia Jane once more!
I’m off now to drink Pheta hua coffee. Bye!

there u go!

2006-02-05T20:01:00.000+05:30

Hello people! It’s been a while, yes, but I return! I am currently a free bird roaming the streets of Delhi. Hang on! Let me revise that statement…more like I’m a stray, abandoned cow on the streets of Delhi who returns home at twilight. Yup! I’ve finally shifted into my pg. This implies a lot of things. Firstly, I’m officially no longer a resident of the city of Delhi. Worse luck! Secondly, I have a curfew of 7p.m…. a little hard to digest, don’t you think? Thirdly, I’m swelling up like a bullfrog thanks to the lovely, rich oily, proper Punjabi food of my pg. Fourthly, I’m about three minutes walking distance away from college. That basically means late nights, late mornings, very litlle exercise and a lot of lethargy. Fifthly and most importantly, this massive change of residence calls for some major major budgeting!
Let me introduce you all to the coping skills that are a complete prerequisite to being part of a pg like mine. The most important trait one has to hone in oneself is that of being loud. Honestly, in community living like this, its all about the decibel levels! The louder you are the better equipped you are to deal with situations. I thank god with utmost gratitude for the first time in my life for gifting me with vocal chords that possess in-built megaphone! I have had not much trouble in that realm, though I have received very stiff competition from Suneha, Tanya and Parvati. The fact of the matter is that everyone wants to be heard over everyone all the times on all subjects challenging all opinions. The net result of this bedlam was that the lady downstairs had a heart attack and had to be rushed to hospital! (I’m serious!) We do a lot of fun things in our pg. The pg opposite ours hosts all the foreign students of a certain college. The guys are HOT! So seventeen of us chicks at eleven at night all dressed to kill in myriad forms of pajamas, jimmies, and nightgowns, gathered in the grilled-in verandahs and hollered at the opposite pg to get their attention…”who let the dogs out?ho?who?who? mere bhais ko danda kyo maara?kyo?kyo?kyo” and then, we all went into hysterical fits of giggling and crouched behind the wall, peeping over to see their reaction. It was then that I reaised that living in a pg essentially means consciously walking into a houseful of romping toddlers! This for us nightlife as all evening excursions must end at seven if you please! Another one of my favourite pastimes at night is to watch horror flicks. Moonmoon and I are movie buffs, and we’ll watch any horror flick at night. So far we’ve been lucky and we’ve seen the grudge, signs, the sixth sense, silence of the lambs and the ring. We also rented a movie called the forsaken. Its basically about new age vampires dressed in thongs, driving red sports cars and continuously having sex. The horror part of it was only that after having sex these vamps would get hornier and draw some blood from their bed partners unmentionables! We weren’t so lucky with that one, no! It was quite ludicrous and made us wince in pain a bit…last night paro and I dressed up as sardars and danced around the entire pg singing haddipaaaa!!hua hua!!oye balle balle!!phurrrrrrrrr!! Brilliant fun that! The food timings here are really regular so dinner gets over by nine…but we stay awake ill four…so hunger pangs assault us by around one. That’s when we enter the kitchen. Don’t even bother to ask what comes out of there! If I tell you , you’ll barf, but it really tastes good. For instance, did you know that an omlette stuffed with maggi is yum? Or that malai, butter and jam beaten together makes the most delicious spread? The only problem with the pg is the owner…while being immensely caring about us and taking a lot of pains to see that we’re comfortable, this particular uncleji has strange timings of arrival. He comes early in the morning when we’re in our nightclothes or at night after dinner when too we’re in our nightclothes. I think that’s one of the reasons he has for opening two pgs for girls. He likes seeing then in their nightly best without bras! Hmph!! All we can do is pleadingly look at him and say “uncleji, kya hum aapke betiyon ke tarah nahi hai?” hopefully this statement will not trigger off a latent pedophile that might be tucked away somewhere in the depths of his personality!
Now comes the budgeting part…suddenly every pice seems to matter…lending of money and borrowing are common, but treating is literally unheard of! We don’t buy tuck, we cook with what’s there in the fridge. We don’t make calls we give missed calls. We don’t eat out, we invent. We don’t go for movies (though this Sunday we are), we rent them in for 30 rupees! And we don’t go for parties unless they are fully paid for by someone else who can afford it. Our birthday presents are all for minimal costs and we make wrapping paper here. We collect things like rubber bands off newspapers and safety pins and plastic bags…we pool in for bottles of shampoos…you get the gist!!

All in all, I love my pg…. its brilliant and the people are diverse and give a lot of scope for the imagination… and I can’t miss home, cos I’m at my home right here in Delhi… having a gorgeous time!

On sharing...

2005-11-19T17:50:00.000+05:30

Hello readers! You have been deprived for long. I am currently an abandoned child. My parents have decided to shift to Kolkata, and while my mom’s already left, my dad is preparing to move in Dec/Jan. Point being that I’m staying with my cousin in Gurgaon. I love this for very many reasons. One of the most important reasons is the experiences I have on my route to and from Gurgaon. See, no car pool from Gurgaon to my college has any vacancy now, cos it’s the middle of the term when things like this have already been rigidly decided. So, I make my way to Delhi in a most interesting manner. Understandably, (since I find it interesting) my parents find it terrifying, unsafe, inconvenient and all other horrible things! They stubbornly maintain that the way I travel is a sure way to get raped, kidnapped, murdered, pick pocketed and all other horrible things! Anyhow, I enjoy it. You simply need to posses a combination of the virtues of sharing and patience and you’re ready to go! Oh yeah, you also need to be assertive and deaf…
This is way I go to Delhi from Gurgaon. To know how I get back, just reverse the order!!
I walk a ten minute walk from the gate of Orchid Gardens to the main gate of Suncity. I am now on the main road. Then I walk towards a ‘golchakkar’ (roundabout) called Chhappan Chowk (56 Square). Don’t ask me why it’s chowk and not gol. I don’t know. I guess it’s cos they’re really bad at geometry! (Ok, pls don’t hate me for saying that!!)
Yeah, so, usually, either on my walk towards or at Chhappan Chowk, I get something called a shared auto. This magical vehicle is nothing like the lovely, shiny, new, silently - running - on - CNG autos that function within Delhi. Oh no! These are generally on their last legs, held together at various parts with rope or black tape, running on diesel or petrol, letting out lovely noxious black fumes, maintaining a constant sound level of at least 500 decibels, transporting people all over Gurgaon. These autos are the same size as any other self-respecting auto. The only problem is that they’re shared. That basically means, grab as many people as you can who want to go in the same direction as you and pile them in. it’s amazing how they do it, but one auto usually travels carrying at least 9 people!! Yup, three at the absolute back, three on a ledge back – to – back with the driver, two in front with the driver and one on the ledge opposite to the exit of the auto. Its quite fun, honestly, though a bit of a squeeze. This is how I reach a place called Sikandarpur. There are also autos which go to IFFCO Chowk, but those don’t concern me. Interestingly, IFFCO Chowk is also a roundabout! Anyhow, if I don’t mange to get an auto, I have to wait for something called an RTV (Road Transport Vehicle) which is a mini bus where you either stand or you hang onto the handle of the door, standing on the step, for they never ever seem to have an empty seat. On reaching Sikandarpur, I walk for another 10 minutes to the roundabout called Bristol Chowk. From there, I wait to catch either a DTC bus or a shared taxi to Khanpur. While we all know what a DTC bus, the concept of a shared taxi is much more intriguing. It functions on the same principles as a shared auto,. Only that there are subtle differences. Here, it is the bus that is noisy and rickety and the taxi which is a nice, new, shiny car. Though, the bus is usually less cramped than the car for the car usually seats 15 people in it. Five in the back seat, six in the boot and about 4 in front with the driver!! Then I reach Khanpur which is a bus depot; from there I catch a bus to Nehru place and from there I switch buses to get to LSR. Traveling in buses is good. I do it all the time now. The thing to be noted is that though people make a huge deal about the kind of crowd that travels in a bus, you’ll find the politest people travel in buses. Being a girl, I enjoy the privilege of being as a “Laadeez” as the conductor says and people get up to offer me there seat if there’s no place. Also, there are certain seats reserved for the ladies. Plus, if there’s ever an old person standing, there’s always some youngster who gets up to offer there seat to him/her. And if you’re sitting anywhere near the conductor, one never faces any problems. After all the warnings and rumours one hears about traveling in a bus, one always tends to be a little skeptical. But, if you have you wits about you and can take roughing it out a bit, then, traveling in buses is a breeze. If you can’t then you’re basically a pansy and it’s time your umbilical cord was cut! One thing to be noted is that letches and rude people are everywhere. They are not only confined to buses. If you’re a girl traveling alone, all you need to do is be armed with a safety pin. Trust me, I learned the hard way!! The only thing you have to turn a deaf ear to is the beautiful language used in buses when anyone curses. If you wish to preserve the finesse of your upbringing I suggest you hum excessively loudly to yourself when people have abuse exchanging matches. Better still, if you’re traveling a long way like me, carry a walkman!! I have a ball. I either munch on the popcorn or peanuts I buy off the vendor at the bus stands on my way or I fall blissfully asleep. It only costs 20 rupees and takes 2 hours to reach!! Woo hoo! I’m all grown up now…

The Non Quitter

2005-10-23T13:26:00.000+05:30

I stubbornly refuse to be a blog abandoner…therefore, to the delight of many and despair of a few, I return! The last time I wrote, I had returned from a trip from Dharamshala. This time I write after a return from a fortnightly long sojourn from Kolkata, where I spent my Puja break, or, as dear old colonial DU would like to call it- ‘Autumn Break’. Anyhow, Kolkata was brilliant fun because my mom and my aunt and family are members of a promotional group called ‘Happenings’ that promotes Kolkata to the international market during the Pujas. Enough of that. The point why I’m telling you all this is so that you guys don’t get lost in the stories that will follow. Well, so I was a volunteer for Happenings. Whilst being fun, it proved to be of the most tedious jobs in the world. And plus, I didn’t enjoy the benefits of being a ‘proper’ volunteer. These include selecting which event I’d like to volunteer for and getting paid for each event. Most importantly, I didn’t CHOOSE to be a volunteer. My aunt sort of just appointed me, nominated me and assigned to me a set of rather horrific tasks! First of which would be making me live in the airport for two days and one night- literally- well, almost! I went there at 7 in the morning both days and came back from the airport at 12 the first night! Why, you may very well ask, was I at the airport in the first place? It was to welcome the guests. The welcome consisted of doing aarti to the person (basically, waving around a candle placed on a plate in front of his face) and applying chandan ka tika. The responses I got were myriad and interesting. Some people were rejoiced at the idea of being so warmly welcomed, some looked solemn, some sullen and some plain embarrassed. There was a man who looked so singularly pained and bored with the entire affair that it was all I could do to stop myself from setting fire to his beard! Honestly, at seven in the morning, when you’ve survived on about five hours of sleep (which mind you, IS NOT ENOUGH for me) you do not wish to do aarti to a man who looks as though he’s been forced to watch an episode of Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi!! After greeting these delightful people, I was given the job of ‘volunteering’ on the tram ride. I was given to understand that I would not be the only one in the compartment and was repeatedly reassured that there would be at least be one more person to help me. Of course, I was abandoned in this compartment full of yelling kids and surprisingly, very few parents! One of my jobs was to give everyone a packet of Frooti. Well, there were lots left over and the kids demanded more and more. Finally, the dams burst and the inevitable happened. I was duly harassed by a bunch of kids who were “wanting to go to toilet, please, Ma’am”. What on earth could I do? Thank god for the traffic jams. I hurried them off the tram while we were stuck on some busy road and got them to relieve themselves in a convenient pay-and-use-toilet our tram had decided to get stuck in front of! Talking of pay-and-use-toilets, I didn’t have a very pleasurable experience with them either. We were taking our guests out for a tour of Kolkata after dinner to visit the various Puja Pandals in their nightly splendour. So, everyone was given strict instructions to “follow the Happenings placard” because we had exclusive entries and crap. I was, then, promptly handed a placard and explicitly told to bring up the rear of the group. Well, let me tell you, it’s not easy when you’re trying to bring up the rear of a group where half of the people walk at the pace of Olympic sprinters and others decide to lay a bet with snails! Net result, about 30 odd people from the public tried to slink in with us. Didn’t work though, cos they didn’t have any of the badges and ids that our guests had. Anyway, on the way we passed another one of those loos. And a family of four decided that they needed to pee, so in they went while I stood at the entrance holding the placard. Trust my luck! All the way people never noticed the bright yellow and red placard, but while standing in front of the toilet, my placard attracted the most attention and I was forced to give interviews about what exactly happenings was and the works. My joy knew no bounds when the lovely family emerged after suitably unloading themselves. And I went back with them to join the group. Only to discover that another lot needed to be escorted to the toilet! Then, there was a person who got a bad tummy and had to keep rushing to the loo… while I was shuttling to and from the loo, I discovered that a bunch of delayed, stray, and yet, very obedient guests were shuttling back and forth with me!! I, being in a rather dazed and sleepy state, took a bit of time grasp the situation. Then I realized what was happening. I immediately lowered the placard, smiled at the guests sweetly, and said in honeyed tones (though I felt like hollering),” you’re following the wrong placard. The correct way is that way” and ushered them towards the other gaily-coloured sign. The guests smiled in relief and the bemused expressions on their faces cleared considerably. I guess the dimwits were wondering whether local lavatories were part of sight seeing!!
Yup, well that sums it up. More about sharing in my next entry. God knows when that’ll be!!

the hills are alive...

2005-09-22T00:31:00.000+05:30

Howdee all! I’m just back from a 4 daylong trip to Dharmshala and McLeodGanj. I had a great time…and of course, I have a gazillion tales to tell. I shall however, be brief.
First of all, the weather wasn’t what you would call ‘perfect’ for it was raining continuously, but that pretty much figures as ‘perfect’ in my definition. Anyhow, readers, the first thing you must all be warned about is that the English department is awfully air-headed. Or at least the bunch who came on the trip seemed to be. Basically, the journey to and from Dharmashala was not what one would call a comfortable one. See, the one major drawback was that it was a 17 hour-long route and we were in a bus. This teamed with not-very-in-tune, but highly enthusiastic antakshari singers can tend to get on one’s nerves. Let me describe to you all, both the journeys. On the way to, we began at 7:30 pm from Delhi and had just about reached the border of Delhi, when a riot of girls decided a dance party was in order. So that’s exactly what they organized. They convinced the letch of a conductor (I’ll come to him later) to put on a cassette, which, oh-so-unfortunately, turned out to be that of Salaam Namaste. Damn! Then those lovely lasses decided to start dancing, yes dancing, in the aisle of the bus. Trust me, when you’re sitting in an aisle seat, listening to your walkman, trying to drift off, it isn’t very helpful if random girls keep flashing mobile torches(as disco lights) in your eye and shoving there overly large posteriors in your face at regular intervals! Agony! Anyway, sleep did arrive and we did sleep. In the morning, I got up to find the girl sitting next to me asleep on my shoulder. See, I was sitting with a friend and one random 2nd year, cos us 1st years weren’t allowed to pick our seats. So, the girl who was asleep on my shoulder was a second year AND SHE WAS DROOLING!! #$$^^$$%^&()!!
I was soooooooooo pissed. I gave my shoulder such a shrug that it was a miracle my arm didn’t go flying out of the window. But, the dratted creature did not wake. She continued lolling her head on my shoulder…aaaaaargh!! I woke her up, very rudely…and switched places with my friend immediately, without telling her why! And then, by the time we began to ascend, the lot of us was very clearly divided into 2 groups. One which wanted to puke so bad, that conducting conversation with them was an absolute no-no, and the other who wanted to piddle so bad that they were hallucinating commodes all over the place, and could talk of precious little besides the acute description of the state their urinary bladder. And it really didn’t help that at every corner the bus would get stuck and we’d have to reverse in a way that might have rolled us all down the mountainside. And did I mention? Fear is not very good for either pissy or pukey people!
The journey back, not much better…. now the girls wanted to play antakshari and I have mentioned before what that is like. Also, the bus didn’t have a permit to cross the border of Himachal Pradesh before 12 and thus, we were stranded for a good 4 hours in a hotel that looked like a brothel. Then, I had to sit in the cabin, with the letch of a conductor who insisted on leering at me with his yellow teeth all the time I was awake at night and very calmly leant himself on my legs and dozed off!!!!
Now during the course of the trip…well, we were supposed to trek the first afternoon, but it started pouring and we shouldn’t have even thunk it. But we did anyway, and got attacked by leeches as a consequence. Also, one girl fell down in a puddle of mud and all she could do was sit there and yell like there was no tomorrow and spread paranoia. She screamed till her lungs could take no more and only when she was out of breath did the hysterical woman decide that getting up to her feet wasn’t such a bad idea after all! Then we went down to McLeodGanj the next day. Wonderful that was! Perfect! But when we reached the falls, the topics of discussion were Gucci shoes and a sale at Benetton and how sexy GAP stuff was! All this, mind you, while standing in the godforsaken waterfall!
“ ooooooooooh I love your shoes!! Too bad you have to get them wet huh?” and “man that sweater is yum! after we’re out of all this crappy water, can I try it on?” grrrrrr
then we trekked back in moonlight…also gorgeous, except that shortcuts are really fancy names for uphill trails in the mountains which give you the thrill of risking your neck with every step you take!
Bas, now I’m sleepy….I’ll come back soon!

this is wat i wrote abhi

2005-09-10T01:42:00.000+05:30

After a prolonged delay and much procrastination, I’ve finally decided that its not worth having a blog unless one updates. So here it is. I’ve updated. I don’t have very interesting things to say though. College life is picking up. Finally! Fest time is beginning. I’m all kicked about that! It basically means that starting now, till end November there will be college fests being held all over DU! Woo hoo!
Let’s see. I have a bunch of new friends in college. Good fun they are. And, as usual, are the heroines of amusing incidents. For instance, Gayatri, Parvati and I were lounging around on the front lawn (the common room was full, and us ‘fachchas’ were kicked out). So, we migrated to greener pastures (!) and yes, as afore mentioned, were lounging around. Gayatri decided she wanted to lie down and Paro, being of a comfortable texture to serve as a cushion, served as the cushion! There was Gayatri sprawled on the grass with her head on Paro’s lap. I was sitting, demurely (if you will!) next to the two and I spotted a particularly large (and, seemingly, horny) ant crawl into Gayatri’s jeans after sufficiently exploring her waistband. So well, there it was, all large and black and horny, crawling down Gayatri’s pants. So, being the lovely caring child I am, I poked Gayatri in the ribs and warned her of the impending danger. She, however, waved the whole affair off extremely airily, as though she didn’t give a damn about an ant that would ‘love to love her, baby’!! “Don’t bother,” she said, “it’ll die as soon as soon as it reaches my arse!” At this Paro gave an involuntary snort and then, asked very innocently, “why, Gayatri? Are the fumes so very noxious?!” Yeah, go ahead, scream, pull at your hair! I had to do that for I didn’t have the guts to take on Parvati, she being all of six feet tall…
Y’know, sometimes I get so mad at the number of dimwitted people in LSR, that I wish they were guys, so that I could at least kick their dratted balls and show them how mad I was!! The other day I was ragged…I begged a third year to. So there I was,2 and a half months into college, being ragged FINALLY!! And I had to do the ‘maar daala’ dance in the middle of the main corridor. It was good fun while it lasted, but after it was over, I was left with more of an inferiority complex than ever, for, now my bust size would be compared to the bountiful bounty of Madhuri Dixit in my head and make me more miserable than ever…SIGH!! Feminist charms elude me. I feel like a skunk without a stink. Damn! I’m off on a trip to Dharmshala on Thursday, from college. Good fun!
The other day, I was going through school snaps and I came across one of Rhythma Kaul. See, Rhythma is this adorable girl –child, who’s like a puppy with a waggedy tail. She makes the biggest blunders. She’s damn sweet though….adorable….huggable….and a very good friend of mine. Anyhow, there was this one time when she was sitting behind me in class and was taking simple delight in kicking my chair and guffawing with laughter at my irritation. Rhythma being of a hefty gait, managed to destroy the delicate precision of the balance of my pens on the slab of wood they claimed was a desk. Thus, the irritation. But, undaunted, Rhythma kept of swinging her trunk of a leg with utmost enthusiasm. A little too much enthusiasm, perhaps., for she , unfortunately, kicked the chair next to mine, which happened to belong to Zafar. Well, she invited his wrath. I mean, its got to be unexpected right. One minute you’re diligently doing the crossword, trying to block out your partner’s mutterings and the next moment you suddenly find yourself and the chair, sans crossword, displaced two feet from where you were previously located. Zafar let out a roar of anger and turned around, only to see the fag end of the swing of the leg and Rhythma’s face turning from pale to red to pale to red in a mixture of horror and embarrassment. What could he do? Muttering away, he gathered himself and crossword with as much dignity as possible, stuck his nose up into the air and sauntered out of the class to find a quiet undisturbed spot, where violent displacements would not exist.
Another time, Rhythma was dying to wear the red band waala sash that adorned Zafar’s rather tubby person. She wanted to see what she looked like. Unfortunately, she wasn’t articulate enough to frame her question properly and thus, far from getting her request granted, she succeeded in horrifying Zafar to the nth degree! The conversation (with Bhavna and me watching) was as follows:
R: Hey Zafar could I borrow your sash?
Z: why on earth?
R: I want to wear it.
Z (warily): why?
R: I can’t tell you
Z: well, then I wont give it to you.
R: please?
Z: no
R: look, I can’t tell you why I want the sash. Just give it to me OK? It’s for something personal. I’ll return it to you in five minutes.
The look on Zafar’s face was worth a million dollars!!!!
It’s weird you know, my school friends and I are still in touch, but its not the same….I miss school
I leave you with that
Adios!!

This was an earlier pending post

2005-09-10T01:39:00.000+05:30

Hello…I return…bringing with me quite a bit of gloom and hopefully a bit of humour…if you want the humour, I suggest you skip the following lines and desperately scan the last few lines for a few laughs. Yes well, I was in a tremendously great mood till three days ago. Since then, life has started its ride downhill. My mother departed for a month long sojourn to Kolkata, taking with her two big suitcases and, apparently, all my digestive juices as well. As a parting shot to my mother, I threw up my entire lunch minutes before she left! And that night, I was plagued by terrible, terrible indigestion, stomach cramps and a lovely little temperature of 101.5 to round it off! Nice, ain’t it? And to top it all, the batti kept coming and going so our AC kept ‘onning’ and ‘offing’ as well! GROAN!! It was horrid!! Honestly, my stomach is so weird, even when there was absolutely nothing whatsoever in it to throw up, I’d still feel pukey! Wouldn’t even hold water down! Okay…. enough of that! I guess you guys don’t want to know further details, na? So, as an obvious consequence, I had to skive off college the next day, which sucked BIG TIME, cos I was just about getting into the groove and having some fun. Also Thursday was the Dramatics Society Orientation and a special Assembly and a there was a face painting competition the next day that I also had to bunk! Apart from that there were a lot of classes I missed too…. but that is the bright side! Anyhow, then my cell’s balance had expired, and my phone line was dead and my dad wasn’t home. So, I was home alone and wallowing in self-pity…thinking about what fun everyone else was having. BOO and bullfrogs!
Today, however, my life started looking up again. For one my cell’s been recharged. And then, Anica, this friend of a friend of mine, who’s become a good friend of mine now and who, incidentally, goes to LSR too, decided that her life was sucking too. So, we both just hit Basant Lok complex. Went to a place called RPM. It was great fun! Very shady and all! No guy gave us a second look though…Sniff!! Maybe, that was because we acting very lesbionic. But then again, maybe I’m just the veritable optimist! Yeah, so my indigestion still lurking around somewhere inside of me, I was banned from eating out. Anica and I therefore, bought some McDonald’s fries and sat outside peacefully munching on them. This, of course, after dancing for quite a while in RPM to some not-so-rocking beats played by the DJ. More like only those people visit the place who need their afternoon siesta or are sexually deprived. There was this pretty funny incident where this ‘cool dude’ in tight white pants (and not the figure to show it off in) was dancing with this ‘cute babe’ in tight brown pants (and not the figure to show it off in). So they danced and I laughed and they danced some more and I laughed some more. For, their version of dancing was, shaking not-quite-tight bottom and moving arms in robotic jerks! So well ‘cool dude’ decided that it was time to ‘turn the fire on’! He leant forward to neck his ‘babe’. Unfortunately, and shamelessly, I leant forward at the same time to get a better look at them! Highly disgruntled at being stared at, the ‘dude’ gave me a rather ugly look as though I was invading the privacy of his very bedroom!!
Sorry, back to McDonald’s. Anica and I finished the fries and were moving towards the main exit of the Basant Lok complex. Anica, dressed in my top with my earrings and wind blown, ‘wild’ hair was picked up! Yes, picked up! Good ol’ uncouth Anica was hit on! Conversation followed, and I quote:
Rookie (with as many piercings as there are stars and as fake an accent as Aishwariya Rai): Hey, you hanging out?
Anica (looking confused): yeah.
Rookie: wanna hang out with us?
Anica: no
Rookie: you stood out. I’ve been watching you
Anica (shaking her head in defiance): no (no what??stand out??no??)
Rookie: yeah. You go to college?
Anica:n…yes
Rookie: wanna party?
Anica: no
Rookie: c’mon
Anica: no. And I have a boyfriend
Rookie: well, everyone does right?
Anica: do you have one?
Rookie: yeah of course!
Anica: er…
Rookie: I like experimenting
Anica: that’s nice!
Rookie: so c’mon. Come with us! You wanna hash a little? Morphine maybe?
Anica: no thanks. And I don’t like your eyebrow piercing
Rookie: I’ll take it off just for you!
Anica: no
Rookie: you wanna exchange numbers?
Anica: no
Rookie: okay then, nice meeting you!
And then he noticed me. Standing meekly, watching the entire spectacle! Very polite I must say!
Rookie: hey, you are?
Me (gripping his hand in a vice like grip): Smita
Rookie: wow! That’s such a pretty name!
Me (undertone): that’s all that seems to be pretty about me!!
Me: bye
Rookie: lovely talking to you!
Me (undertone): yeah sure, why not? 2 sentences! Longest conversation I’ve ever had!!

Man, how Anica and I guffawed after that!!
Good fun yeah!
Bye then!

gah!!!!!!!

2005-08-30T23:07:00.000+05:30

Well, hellllllllllllloooooooooooooooooooooo!Much to the sorrow of those who wished me dead, I return!!!! SOO BOO to you guys! Hmph! And to those who worried yourself sick about me, and couldn't sleep at night and all that hogwash: CHEERS! I'm baaaaaack...and I swear I shall update asap! In a while....
PS- I REFUSE to die yet!

FACHCHA!

2005-07-19T00:10:00.000+05:30

It has finally begun…. Yes, I’m officially an LSaar now (which, by the way, means an LSR student). I had my first day at college today. Unfortunately, I didn’t get what I wanted most. I never got ragged. My entire batch got ragged, except me and this other girl, who was a hosteller. Yes, I am sad; very sad. The purpose of being a fachcha seems to be defeated! Damn!
The ragging made fun watching though, and I thoroughly enjoyed being an avid spectator. There were the usual, singing and dancing on tables at the cant-, I beg you pardon, ‘café’! And, in addition, to being made to dance like Amitabh Bacchan and sing like Lata Mangeshkar, there were, of course, way more interesting and innovative ideas. I do believe, ragging is a very creative art and helps one invent much better. Yes, so in colourful ragging, we would have pole dances and advertising. Pole dances are, as pole dances should be, essentially, pole dances. Except that approximately 10 students had to pole dance simultaneously on one single tree. Well, the poor faculty got quite a shock to see a whole bunch of freshers surrounding a palm tree in the front lawns; all of whom were in exceedingly ungainly, unwomanly and uncouth positions! A few kids from the philosophy batch were embarrassed out of their lives when they were ragged. Unfortunately, they had to deal with what I like to call an ‘identity crisis’. For the simple reason that they were very pointedly told by a bunch of third years that they were condoms. The looks of horror on their faces were bad enough when they heard of their newfound identity. But it got much worse. They had to roam around the college advertising themselves as condoms! They came up with some catchy, not-to-be-repeated-in-polite-society slogans! Floods apparently attacked our English batch. A group of 20 odd kids had to run around the café thrice, with their jeans rolled up till above their knees, screaming for all their worth, “ baadh aa gayi baadh aa gayi! Bachao! Run from the floods!” No giggling allowed. This was distinctly funny as we were all dressed in bright orange. You see, each lot had to wear a different colour, in order to colour code us for ragging. So while Maths honours wore a bright yellow, English honours were donned in bright orange. Yes, so 20 students of the English department randomly running around the café screaming to avoid the devastating floods, in the parched midday heat! The floods! Yes quite! We also had to stand up for each lecturer and chant in a singsong voice, “ gooooood morning ma’am may god bless you1”
Anyhow, the bottomline is that I didn’t get ragged, and have groveled on my knees in front of a third year student and have fixed up a date for myself to get ragged tomorrow. This, of course, after finding out from where she had procured the most amazing silver earrings!
That’s about it. I’m dog tired! Ta! I love my common room, just by the way, and I had pizza for dinner…..

Mansi...

2005-07-07T02:01:00.000+05:30

A potentially interesting blog entry awaits you. I swear! Or rather, “ main ganga jal ko haath mein lekar saraswati maata ki kasam kha kar kehti hoon!” as Mansi Khanna would have said. Mansi Khanna; yet another one of my colourful classmates who added to the myriad life forms that existed within the four walls of class XII R!
Mansi Khanna is very interesting to describe. Everything about her is unique; her speech, her looks, her whole get up. Physically, she’s skinny, with thin, stork like legs and a huge beaming smile. Her hair is frizzy and perpetually looks like it never been combed and that she’s gotten outta her pajamas and come running to school. Her ears and fingers are of great intrigue, for, while each of the former seems to have at least 6 piercings with different coloured stone studs stuck in them (making them look like exotic traffic lights), her fingers are covered with various stone studded rings each fulfilling a purpose like prevention of heart attacks, influenza, blood pressure, possession by evil spirits, melancholia, schizophrenia and so on and so forth… Mansi Khanna always, always and always managed to maintain a certain unkempt look to her person.
Mansi wasn’t what one would call a stellar student, though she always showed an aptitude for web designing. However, there was still just one person who was better than her at web tech; Zafar. A highly amusing incident arose from this situation. You see, the way Mansi acted around Zafar always made one think that she had the hots for him majorly. I mean, standing against a pillar rather sensuously (?), with her hip sticking out, legs crossed and hand on her hip, she would coo to Zafar, in what she thought was a seductive voice, but was actually a hoarse rasping, and pose him with the perpetually unanswerable question of “IP ka syllabus kya hai?” At that, of course, Koval and I would unkindly burst into fits of giggles and be forced to abandon Zaffy’s side to seek solace behind a tree where we could laugh our guts out, while Zaffy would blushingly deal with an equally blushing Mansi Khanna! Yes, sorry! The incident. Well, so, as usual, Mansi’s perpetual doubts in Web Tech forced her to turn towards Zaffy for help, and one day, while Zaffy was sitting on his chair in class, trying to solve yet another unsolvable crossword, Mansi traipsed over to him, slammed down some web tech handouts on his desk and demanded for an explanation of some sort which would not boggle her brain. Zaffy, very indulgingly, put his newspaper away and began to slowly untangle the mess in Mansi’s mind, while she leant over him eagerly, heaving with excitement, and nodding vigorously. Slightly amused at the spectacle, Bhavna, sitting across the row, looked up and smiled at Mnasi. That was it! Mansi snatched up her papers, threw Zafar the dirtiest look ever, while shrieking at Bhavna,” HAI, HAI Bhavna! Aisa kuchch nahi hai. Main toh bas IP ke questions pooch rahi thi! Ganga maiyya ki kasam, maine aaj tak kisi bhi ladke pad aankh utha kar tak nahi dekhi! Hai hai!! Main kya karoon!tum sab sochte kya ho!! Hai, hai!!” and so lamenting and cursing Mansi stormed out of the class leaving behind a stunned Bhavna and equally stunned Zafar!
Then, comes Mansi’s forever ailing uncle. See, Mansi never go out much, so overflowing with the milk of human kindness, Yamini, Bhavna and I kept asking her, regularly, to join us for lunch or a movie or something. Mansi however, always had other concerns. Her uncle. Keep in mind that these invitations would be given to Mansi every week or so for then we were vella and went out much more. So, the first time we asked Mansi, she said, “Hai nahi. Mere Mama ke pet ki operation hai.” Expressing as much sympathy as was proper for her Mama’s condition, we withdrew. Next week, another invitation. Mansi said ,” HAI nahi. Mere Mama ke gale ki operation hai” A little bemused at the condition of her Mama’s seemingly dilapidated anatomy, we withdrew yet again. Another week and a half later, another invitation, Mansi’s reaction ,” HAI nahi, Mere Mama ke urine ki operation hai!” That was the last straw! Stomach, gall bladders, throats, anything we could deal with. But, this was the first time we had ever heard of urine being operated on! While Bhavna and I were still wiping our eyes, Yamini burst forth humorously and said “Tu apne Mama ko koi biological research lab mein donate kyu nahi kar deti?” Mansi’s reaction? “HAI HAI!! Kaisi manhoos baate karte ho! Aur phir tum log mujhe kahin le bhi toh nahi jaate ho! HAI HAI!”
In class XI, when Zafar was given the oh-so- prestigious position of Blue file Monitor, Mansi always kept an eye on both the Blue File and Zafar in the Web Tech Lab. Zafar had this excessively annoying habit of leaving the blue file behind in various classes. And while I could keep an eye on the dratted thing in history class, I couldn’t do the same in Web Tech. Therefore, Mansi took over. And how! One day Zafar had left the blue file behind in the lab and serenely walked out, oblivious of the fact. Mansi, frantic by now (she used to reach hysterical heights rather fast!) came rushing out of the lab clutching the file to her bosom, caught up with Zafar while he was in the corridor talking to me, hit him on the head very hard with the file while breathlessly and loudly and repeatedly proclaiming, “ Zafar you are the most illegal monitor!!” Almost having his brains bashed out, Zafar was understandably dazed and dimly kept wondering why he had suddenly become illegal. It was then that it dawned on me that the word Mansi was looking for was ‘irresponsible’. I supplied her with the word, at which she stuck out her tongue and slapped her forehead and said “HAI HAI!”
In pol science class, Yamini had this habit of passing comments on everyone and everything, including telling the teacher to put a silencer in Zafar’s mouth! Well, one of her favourite targets was Mansi Khanna. She was quietly teasing her and Mansi kept retorting rather loudly till Mrs. Pental lost her patience. Looking up, with an annoyed expression, she said, “yes Mansi, what is your problem?” Mansi, meaning to ask the teacher to tell Yamini to shut up, stood up at her place, got extremely hot and bothered and passionately burst forth loudly,” Ma’am you SHUT UP!” The ‘tell her to’ had randomly disappeared from the sentence! Mrs. Pental gasped out in shock and then asked Mansi to give her the full form of NAM. Having successfully done so, Mansi was then quizzed about the meaning of Align. Confidently she said, “Arre Ma’am, a line is a line. Dandi!!”
At the class photograph, I was begged by Mansi to switch places with her, thus I appeared next to Avik Ganguly looking as though I possessed no hair and she appeared next to Zaffy, with the biggest smile you’ll ever see! Dear ol’ Mansi. For all her peculiarities, she was a good soul and never meant anyone any harm. She was over eager hysterical and bizarre! One always to be remembered…

...........

2005-07-03T00:00:00.000+05:30

[Then]
So I gave my Stephen’s interview today. It went off well enough. I fell in love with Willy boy. Now I’m doubly in love with the dratted college! The weather is perfect , so I have decided to dedicate this entry to a certain Rhythma Kaul, who is currently studying at Symbiosis, and various school memories I share with her. Incidentally, Rhythma Kaul has nothing whatsoever to do with rainy weather. But, then isn’t the weather perfectly delightful??

[Now]
Most of you must be wondering as to what the whole ‘then’ and ‘now’ thing is all about. Well, even if you aren’t, you are doomed to hear the explanation, so there! The previous bit was written when I was in an enthusiastic mood and the weather was lovely and Rhythma Kaul was the topmost thought in my mind. Then I had planned to go down memory lane and bring up many an amusing anecdote from my experiences in class XI and XII with references to Rhythma and random others. T’would have been fun. Alas! That is not to be. For now, it is too late. I am in a state of depression, for I didn’t make it to Stephen’s for history and am NOT in love with Willy boy any longer and the weather is humid and Rhythma Kaul is no longer top priority. I gave a wretched philosophy interview and the morons put me on the waiting list whilst I’m nowhere in the picture for history honours. Ah well! I have settled for English Honours in LSR. Everyone around me is ecstatic; for they claim it’s a brilliant college and that I got the course I wanted. I guess they are right, but the disappointment of a dream, that’s been the closest to your heart for a really long time, being completely shattered in one morning is very acute and very intense. However, I shall not brood, for I have been told that I tend to go on and on and I shall not. So there! I intend on having a great time in LSR.
Today I shall speak of one of the world’s greatest horrors; Zaffy’s New Hairdo. God only knows, what possessed him to get that particular cut. In a vague attempt to give himself a new look he’s gone and planted a molehill on top of his head. Ask him why and he says,” hey I had the same hairdo for 6 years. Gimme a break!” Give him a break? Really? You have to see it to believe it. It’s this strange shape of an upside down cone, which gives one the impression that he was telling the barber to practice geometry on his head!! It’s all high and triangular at the top middle and the hair gradually becomes shorter as it tapers off the sides!! Trust me, its horrendous!! And Zafar’s hair has a horrible habit of growing vertically…i.e. it moves upwards…so you can imagine what it looks like now after having grown a bit! The triangle is as large as can be! God save us!
I must relate to y’all a conversation that took place today between my mom and dad. My dad’s eyesight is pretty bad, but dad, being dad, has decided to use his eyesight as an excuse to shirk work. Tell him to do something he doesn’t want to do and he’ll tell you he can’t see (with a most martyr like expression on his face!) Today, he was fingering a bunch of chillies placed right before him in a bowl, at lunchtime. Then, he looked up at mom and said, “ can you give me a chilly please?” and mom says “what do you mean ‘give it to you’? It’s a cm away from your finger!” So then dad says, “ no, actually, I can't see....erm... they’re too big” so mom retorts, “so make them smaller” Honestly!!! This is supposed to be the conversation for a person who can’t see!! Bizarre!!

SOB!

2005-06-21T20:14:00.000+05:30

Busy, busy, busy is what I’ve been for the longest time… and not all of the business has been excessively positive…. In fact, I don’t think any of it has been positive. However, as usual, some of the stuff has been, though negative, rather amusing on retrospect.
It’s all about damned college applications, as of now. All day I’m running around trying desperately to complete applying. Why, you might ask, do I have to run about so much whilst my fellow students manage to do it all neatly in a span of 2 days? Well, simply cos, I’m too smart for words. One of my major choices in courses has been English, and that choice is exactly what’s messed my life up royally!
I had mentioned earlier that I was applying through the centralized ICR form. Well, unfortunately, I possess no patience whatsoever and refused to read the prospectus of DU carefully enough, and yes, only later, after all the registration dates for English were over, did I discover that most colleges weren’t accepting ICR forms for English! Well, boo and bullfrogs! There went my entrances for Hindu and Miranda! Blyeh! And I wasn’t meant to make it to the Stephen’s cut off for English anyhow, though I made it to History and Philo (with utmost aplomb, might I add!)… LSR and JMC…. literally by the skin of my teeth did I manage to apply for their English entrances. With only ½ an hour to go in LSR before the counter closed and about 2 hrs in JMC before the curtain fell! Gees! And was I ever relieved to find out that Hansraj and Venki don’t have entrances for English and only need cut offs! Damn, for a while there, I felt that I’d probably land up doing Anal Chemistry in Mata Sundri College for the rest of my life!
For the record, I have managed to apply for the rest of my courses with no hitch! Anyhow, Kaybee is back after a long time, and if you want a detailed description of the lunch she ate at my place, you might as well check out her blog. Zaffy Duck is currently rather pleased with himself after having made it to both the History and Philo interview lists for Stephen’s. I met up with Akshay recently and we went on a “date” to Ansal’s and had a great time. I fed him Cotton Candy (which he wolfed down with such speed, one would be forced to think that he’d been starved and kept trapped in an underground prison for a very, very long time) I also gifted him a glass of fresh mausambi juice. All in lieu of the 50/- rupees I owed to him for a Barista Smoothie! And in return, the darling boy wasted 5/- by putting it in a slot machine, turning the knob with immense gentleness and procuring for me ONE chewing gum! Honestly, if I kept track of the amount I owe Zaffy, by now I would be gifting him a house!!!! Akshay, learn my sweet. Know how to treat your girl! Bah!!
Chalo now, I’m bored and grumpy and it’s horribly hot, so bye!

Gush and Gosh!!

2005-06-14T00:45:00.000+05:30

I hadn’t started blogging the time my geyser burst, or else I’m sure I would have written about it earlier. The bright idea of posting it here was given to me by Akshay, to whom I owe many thanks, apart from 55/- for a mango smoothie…
Yes, the day my geyser burst. Truly, a very memorable day. That day, out of all the days, I had chosen to wash my hair. So, in I went and obviously disrobed myself and, was about to begin my bath, when suddenly there was this terrific bang and horrid browny and steaming hot water started pouring out of the geyser, forming a hot, opaque waterfall around my basin. I stared in dismay, all ideas of washing my hair gone with the wind! And suddenly, I realized that the geyser switch was still on. Gauging that this could be a rather dangerous situation, I looked around for my clothes to be put back on. Unfortunately, the dratted things were in the washer and were already drenched. Acting on impulse, I wrapped my towel around myself, let myself out of the bathroom and gave out a holler of warning, “GEYSER!” which seemed to have the same ring to it as “TIMBER!” That did it. My mom and dad rushed out of the bedroom and the study, respectively, to see what the commotion was all about. There I was, clutching at my towel for all I was worth, yelling and jumping up and down, telling random people to switch the geyser off. Meanwhile, to add to the bedlam of voices and gushing water, my dog started barking frantically and the maid came rushing out of the kitchen clanging quite a few vessels together at the same time and muttering nonsense about burning dishes and the works!
So, there my whole merry family had collected, in front of the bathroom, yelling and barking, and screaming and shoving and, no one really doing anything to stem the flow of the water…. then good sense seemed to prevail over my parents in general and they started talking in terms of switching the geyser off, while the maid retired to the kitchen yet again! What could I do? I decided to behave as though my parents’ had hit upon the most wonderful solution, rather than trying to explain to them that I had been trying desperately to din precisely the same thing into their heads all this while. Now another problem arose. Who was to switch the geyser off? My mother refused, for she had just bathed. My father refused, for he had to go for a meeting and wasn’t willing to get drenched. The maid refused, for she had peas to fry. The dog refused, for she didn’t have a choice. So, hopping and skipping around with impatience, I decided to put the geyser off myself. Armed with a long stick, I attempted to push the switch. This feat, unfortunately, could be accomplished only with the use of both my hands. Net result, I was doing this maha-balancing act in trying to switch of the geyser, keeping my towel from falling and preventing myself from getting electrocuted. Not much help came from my family, with dad yelling to watch out for a shock and mom yelling to watch out for my towel. Finally, after a few attempts- mission accomplished, although my position was rather strange with myself on tiptoes and bent at weird angles to prevent the towel from revealing what lies beneath…
Talking of slipping towels, there seems to be a close relationship with my nudity, English exams and male friends! Invariably, for the past two years just before our half yearlies, I got either frantic phone calls or frantic messages from my boy friends just after I came out of my bath and was in the process of donning some clothes. The former happened in class XI, one day before the English exam, when I was forced to explain the Merchant of Venice Act II to a very close friend of mine on the phone, confined in my room, in the nude! The next was when I got a message in class XII, one day before the English exam, from another very close friend. A message which read, “Call me quick, ASAP” Thinking that some horrid misfortune had befallen him, I hastened to call him only to find out that he wanted the format of a formal report…and all that while I was shivering uncontrollably in front of the heater, confined in my room, in the nude!!!!
Don’t be too horrified, I beg of you….

Applications and Analysis

2005-06-07T23:48:00.000+05:30

College applications have begun, and I have, as is obvious, started applying. After standing in this gigantically huge line at Gargi College for well over an hour, I managed to procure an ICR form. Manxy, very sweetly, tried to reduce my discomfort and, being further ahead, in the line got an extra form for me to save me time. Unfortunately, I needed another form, so I had had to stand in that wretched sweaty line, in that wretched sweaty college anyway! The college is, by far, the dingiest place I have come across and I have yet to see a place that needs more repainting than Gargi… After, finally, getting the forms, my friends and I decided to get something cold to drink at Café Coffee Day just across the road… Alas! That was not meant to be. We entered a relatively full Café, only to find that the guy there was extremely reluctant to take any orders. So slowly but surely, the relatively full café became relatively empty. When our parched throats could take it no longer, I went and demanded to know why the guy wasn’t taking any orders. He just popped his head out of the kitchen and nodded sagely at me mumbling something about “sorry” and “five minutes more”. Well, lots of five minutes came and went, as did lots of sun-dried couples. But, the guy never emerged from the kitchen. Though the café was absolutely empty, we doggedly stuck on, waiting for our order to be taken, dreaming of Mango smoothies and whatnot! Time arrived for a second inquiry. This time, all I could get him to do was to shake his head. That was it. What could one do? Our thirst unquenched, we gave him one last beseeching look, gathered our forms and left…Sigh!
Well, so where was I? Ah yes, the ICR forms! So, last night, we were going through the various forms and prospectii(?) of the colleges, when mom came across a list of colleges and their courses. While going through it, my mom randomly went into a sudden fit of laughter. For a long, long time she couldn’t stop laughing. With great difficulty she controlled herself and declared in a tremulous voice,”Mata Sundri College teaches Anal Chemistry!!” and promptly went off into peals of laughter the next instant, clutching her sides, with tears streaming down her cheeks! On closer inspection, after intense scrutiny, Dad and I figured that all dear old, innocent Mata Sundri College was offering was a course in analytical chemistry! However, DU has gotta learn that after an abbreviation one puts a full-stop and that analytical chemistry shouldn’t read as Anal Chem!!!
Well, that’s about all I really wanted to pen down! Apart from my mother singing around the house like a banshee, nothing else of particular interest has been happening lately!!

Beggars CAN be choosers!

2005-06-05T00:56:00.000+05:30

The famous saying “Beggars can’t be choosers” was proved wrong to me in quite a ludicrous way the other day. While sweating it out in an auto, in the heat of Delhi, in the peak of the afternoon, I was victimized by one of the many beggar children who haunt the traffic lights areas of Delhi. Apparently, the newest “in” tactic for these kids to earn money, is by praising the “customers/ victims”. So, I was poked on my thigh by this little girl with scruffy hair who seemed to have taken a fancy to my auto in particular and refused to leave. She continuously repeated in a monotonous and particularly nasal voice,” Didi aaj aap bahut achchee lag rahe hai! Aapke kaan ke jhumke bade achche hai!” All this was said with utmost vigour and at a rather high decibel level and was accompanied by the thigh-poking. After a while, when the jabs became increasingly persistent and painful, and the praising became more and more raucous, I took out my wallet and gave her a 2 rupee coin. To my amazement, she held it in her hand for a fraction of a second before returning it to me. She literally seemed to fling it at me while her face wore an extremely offended look and she proclaimed “Didi itna kam nahi chalega!” And with that she stuck her nose up into the air and walked off in a huff just as the light turned green. She apparently didn’t think the payment for all her efforts was satisfactory!
I also witnessed an equally humorous event some time back. Also concerning a beggar. However, this beggar was an adult and faked a broken leg, Parkinson’s disease, and a gazillion other ailments. Now, as usual, at the red light, he chose one car and moved in for the kill. Here’s the twist. The man in the car rolled down his window and showed the beggar a 100-rupee note asking him if he had change for it. The beggar calmly took the note, delved deep within the depths of his shirt pocket and exchanged it for two fifties in such a matter of fact way, that he might have been a banker for all I know! After this financial transaction was over, the beggar was given a rupee coin and he went on his way as happy as a lark!!!
Today I went to see a “horror” movie- The Ring Part II. I went only cos I was gonna meet Akshay after the longest time and also it was a morning show so the ticket was cheap!!!
Anyhow, this film was as far from horror as it gets. It involved a little boy who was possessed by this half ghost half alive girl called Samara whose mother tried to drown her. And consequentially, to rid the little boy of Samara’s soul his mom tried to drown him! The drowning seemed to perpetually take place in the bathtub and the scariest scenes were the bathroom scenes! I swear it should have been called “banshees of the bathroom” or “horrors in the urinal” or something! This Samara girl-ghost-dead-zombie-like thing was another story altogether. She was drowned in a well where she didn’t die properly and then seemed to have identity crisis and there was a part when she had to scale the walls of the well and one could swear that she had lizard blood in her…You should’ve seen the way she leapt about! And when she spoke though, one realized that robots definitely must have had a part to play in her parentage! Basically, it had a lot to do with drowning and somehow, there was a lot of water in the damned movie! Conservation of resources was definitely not on the filmmaker’s mind eh?
Oh boo! It was not scary but was rather weird…I did manage to lose my afternoon sleep over it, apart from the fact that I had to go somewhere too…
Chalo then I shall take your leave. Just a word of advice, NEVER drink at Passion My Cup of Tea. Everything tastes as though it has tea in it….like chocolate milkshake with tea or caramel custard with tea! Eeyuck!

I return

2005-05-27T00:41:00.000+05:30

Hey readers! I return. Solely for the purpose of updating my blog. For, you see, the days are following each other in a dullness that seems too dull to believe. It’s like this continuous drone; a low, humming drone, that doesn’t quite hurt your ears, but disturbs you merely by existing…
Well, to begin with obvious, they are out. I managed to do tolerably, I guess, by people’s standards; but, by my standards, they were horrible. Economics, especially, was exceedingly messed! Rather surprising, for it was, by far, my best paper. Let’s just say the score was so low that I had to leave it out of my best four subjects’ percentage… That is all I wish to say about the results for now.
In other news, I cannot say that my life has been dull by normal standards…I mean cousins have come and gone; books have been bought and read; friends have been called and met up with; movies have been watched and critiqued; music has been burned and appreciated; meals have been cooked and relished; nights have arrived and been slept through… You get the picture. However, the thing is, that all of these ‘interesting’ things, while keeping one sufficiently occupied for a given length of time, tend to get repetitive and seem to posses the same element of dullness that accompanies hot, still summer afternoons, where all one feels like doing is lying down only to realize the body’s restlessness… I think it’s just me. Others seem to have woken up from this month long hibernation and seem to face life with this exuberant freshness like one would greet a cool monsoon shower! On the other hand, mosquitoes seem to be at their blood sucking best. Two All-Out pluggies in one room emit fumes enough to intoxicate me, but do not seem to deter the mosquitoes from their morbid pleasure and bites rise like welts all over my legs! Damn!
Anyhow, I am confident that I shall return to my usual never-bored self. I am just a little listless, I guess…
Manav has left… Gone…Train bound towards his future college, NUJS- Kolkata.
Manav, as most of you would have grasped by now, is one of my closest friends, and though I might have sacrificed a week’s worth of food to satisfy his insatiable appetite and paid innumerable auto fares and listened to hours of whining and had rather rough fights, Manav, in some loony way of his, managed to capture the hearts of all my family members including mine. Manav is a loon; a very, very warm, gentle, caring, affectionate, sensitive and not to forget, perverse, loon! Manav can be quite, quite eccentric, but behind that eccentricity is hidden a brain as sharp as needles and he’s as bright as bright can be. Manav is the kind of guy everyone naturally warms to… and though I am delighted for him, happy that he’s on his way to a bright future, I will always miss him. He’s on his way to Kolkata, a city he’ll be a perfect fit in, away from Delhi, a city he’ll be sorely missed in…Fare thee well Dhalinghe and Yenna Panhari to you!

Whoops!

2005-05-13T20:05:00.000+05:30

I have an absolute dearth of ideas, and am suffering from a severe blogger’s block. I am also, by the by, suffering from a severe cold. As it is, people tease me about being four- eyed, but to add insult to injury, my eyes keep watering, allowing me, thereby, to actually see double! Geez! My nose is currently bulbous and red and sore, and I am forced to breathe strenuously through my mouth. The worst of all, my mom woke me up this morning telling me that she’d heard me snoring! Grrrrr…. Drat these colds!
Talking of illnesses, there’s this stupid meningitis thingie going around. Apparently, one’s brain cells get inflamed with the disease. Everyone around seems to be getting a vaccine. However, the consequences of the vaccine are so awful, what with a swollen arm and 102 fever, I’d rather get the dratted disease. God knows my grey cells could do with some enlargement! The virus gets activated at a certain temperature, apparently, and will perish as soon as the temperature increases, which brings me to the subject of the weather. The weather is sooooo confused. Some rain, some shine, some hot, some cold! Goodness! Make up your freaking mind, up there!
I am an awfully accident-prone person. I am also rather, ahem, masculine (?) Therefore, my mother’s attempts to feminize me are absolutely in vain. For a first, she insists on making me wear ‘pretty’ clothes for peoples’ birthday parties, which is ever in conflict with my idea of dressing up in my worn out baggies and a tee! Anyway, now she has proceeded to my feet, and made me wear this really, really smart pair of sandals which I couldn’t, for the life of me, walk in. So when I was dolled up and finally ready to go to Basant Lok for Shantanu’s birthday celebrations, woe had to betide me! A slight diversion, ‘celebrations’ wouldn’t be quite the word I would use, since only Arjun and 1 were called and we basically did Vasant Kunj Darshan! Anyway, back to me… so yes, woe betided me and I skinned my toe. You see, I am very clumsy and my shoes often go flying off my feet and my clumsiness coupled with a lively pair of feet is not the best duo around! So my foot merrily, careered off and kicked a brick, thus skinning my toe…. it hurt like hell! It got all nice and fine in a day, but today, I somehow managed to skin the scab of the skinned toe and I’m still trying to figure out how that happened!
Talking of klutzes, one of my darling friends went to Aligarh for his medical exam, arrived half an hour late due to 2 traffic jams on the way, started running towards the gate, bent his 6 foot 2 inch body double as he tried to run below a rope barrier, lost his balance and went for nice and merry toss and is currently all bandaged up! I’m such a sadist; I couldn’t help laughing when he told me… I decided to be like an ibex the other day when I fancied climbing some rocks in the park. Goody goody, I went prancing up to the topmost one without a hitch and straightened up with a triumphant smile on my face to grin at my mother below. Only that the straightening up never happened. I was so busy looking down at my foot placement that I didn’t look up and CRACK, I hit my nut against a branch. The whole tree shuddered with the impact! I’m still dazed!
Well, I’m getting this vibe that you people really didn’t want to read about my ailments and what not and therefore, I’m just gonna go! Ta!

Games at Twilight

2005-05-08T02:59:00.000+05:30

For people who read my blog, I would like to convince you that all my childhood memories are NOT eccentric or weird or perverse! For that purpose, I shall write about certain games I used to play with Tara when we were 8 and 9…
Tara and I were, technically, ‘bus friends’, then became ‘colony friends’ and now, are well, just ‘friends through the ages’! So, to begin with, Tara had given me this awful inferiority complex. Tara told me that most people in the bus hated me and she thought I was just about OK. This was rather blatantly put across to me, with no effort at camouflaging or beating about the bush. Zip, straight to the point and, Ouch, it hurt! Tara, of course, now in an act of self-defense, claims to have said nothing of the sort, but unless you are Zafar, who is convinced I’m a lying windbag, you shall believe me!
Anyhow, as our friendship grew, I was gradually allowed to go to her house to play. One of our favourite games was playing with Barbies. Here, I must clarify that our Barbie games were far more innovative than others and didn’t simply involving changing their clothes and shoes and washing their hair and stuff. We actually followed a plot. Each and every time. This is what it was…
There were four Barbies. Tara and I would get two each. There was this one Barbie who I really admired. She was the Ballerina Barbie, who had lovely long golden hair and could bend at the knees and elbows. I really wanted to play with her, but could I ever? No, Tara always got her for she was her favourite Barbie. Throughout our history of Barbie games, I do believe I didn’t get to play with that Barbie even once. However, being utmostly kind as she is, Tara gave me a Barbie she had given a hair cut. This hair cut, of course, was nowhere near Habib’s quality, and hence, my Barbie had short cropped hair with bald patches. Yes, and to top it all, she was always evil. We used to begin the game with all good intentions and everyone the best of friends, and somehow, halfway through the game, my Barbie would say something that would piss off Tara’s Barbies. And then, being kids, Tara and I would usually sulk and fight with each other, taking all Barbie abuses to heart, and then make up and mutually agree to make my Barbie evil for the rest of the game. Our game always consisted of two days, which progressed over a span of 3-4 hours. The first day would be normal, with my Barbies shifting their home to the one next to Tara’s Barbies and then we’d all get acquainted, become best friends, declare one of my Barbies as evil, and go to bed after an extremely productive day. The next day, our Barbies would rise and shine early in the morning and would go horse riding. Tara and I had a deal. While she got all the furniture, including the cool sofa cum bed for Barbies, I owned the horses- so the horse riding was to my credit. Horse riding, our Barbies would go- one horse being a red parrot and the other, a stuffy which I cannot remember, but I know it was as far away from a horse as you can get! It used to be a lot of fun; choosing dresses for horse riding and stuff… Horse riding done, it was decided the next thing to do would be to go on a picnic, so off on a picnic they went…. That day was a very important day in the lives of our Barbies, as they had to attend Sulky Sue’s tea party. Sulky Sue was this filthy rich snob of a doll whose sole purpose in life was to sit on the windowsill and throw tea parties for our Barbies. I forget if my Barbies were supposed to be poverty-stricken or not, but invariably for the party they would have to borrow clothes from Tara’s barbies. They always spent the night at Tara’s barbies house too! Well, they would go to Sulky Sue’s tea party, bitch about her, have a good time and then it would be time for Darshan (Tara’s servant) to drop me home on his cycle!
Another favourite was ‘crèche crèche’. Tara and I would be owners of this crèche, which wasn’t too well off. Somehow there was this novelty attached to being poor in our games. Anyhow, we would get these dolls (the big stuffed kinds), whose parents were perpetually overeager to get rid of them and, apparently, seemed to abandon their children at our crèche for seasons together simply to enable Tara and me to enjoy a game! Here the distribution of dolls was a little fairer and we’d switch dolls at the change of every season. Invariably, the night before Christmas, our crèche would run out of money and thus, lose all the basic essentials of life. It was tragic, it was. Tara and I would huddle in the cold, trying to protect the ‘children’ who, by that time, were cranky and hungry. We had no money. Then, a kind old lady would give us a magic sausage which would multiply into thousands of more sausages and miraculously, everyone would be fed and warm and the game would end on a happy note, with Tara and me singing out “Tis the season to be jolly! Fa la la la la!”
We also played other games, involving a multi purpose bus, high school students (Tara and I played multiple roles in that one) and Crystal maze. But that’s for another day.
Before I leave, allow me to become a bit somber…
Someone told me the other day that I’m lucky that I have so many people I can hang out with. I daresay, that’s true, but little does that person know that my friends are few and far between and the ones I have mean the world to me. Losing any one of them makes me wince with pain. Someone also said that I have the talent of being able t o make all my stories sound fun and colourful, even the supposedly sad ones. Little did that person know that my sob stories are usually the funniest and merriest, because, for some obscure reason, I try to conceal my pain from the world…
Ah well, enough of that. Till next time. Cheers!

It's all about growing up...

2005-05-02T01:08:00.000+05:30

It took three days, yup, three whole days to clean my room. This included vacuuming corners which were formerly untouched, re-arranging my furniture and, most importantly, cleaning out my study table! But now, I can proudly proclaim that the outcome of the marathon task is more than satisfactory and my room, if not sterilized, is spic and span!
During the process of cleaning my room, I had to go through a horrid task of washing my stuffies. You see, my room is full of stuff toys, which, till now, had adorned the top of both the pelmets in my room, causing a lot of people to wonder whether I was 7 or 17. These stuff toys, being in such an inaccessible place, were vacuumed once in a blue moon…so they lay there gathering dust till a point when my cousin begged me to get rid of them saying that it was quite frightening to enter a room, dimly lit by street lights, to be greeted by coal black faces of many-a stuff toy leering at her their glass eyes a-glisten with what she calls ‘murderous looks’. But I was adamant, and refused to part with any of them. You see, I have a strong psychological attachment to each one of them for each has its own special history and were given to me with a lot of affection. Also,these stuffies are leftovers. I had many, many more, but I gave most of them away and now only these are left. And I will never let go of them, no matter how dilapidated they look. They even have their names: Gogo and Lanky (two monkeys), Minty and Bugs(2 bunnies) Nancy, Pupsy and Shorty ( 3 dogs) and so on and so forth. Now, I had to wash the bunch of them. And that was quite a task! While getting them down from the dratted pelmets, my mother almost choked on the clouds of dust…Anyhow, there was this doggy- Shorty…He’s made of velvet and was torn in many places so his stuffing was pouring out. Knowing how attached I was to my stuffies, mom tentatively suggested giving Shorty away. An outburst greeted her. How could I give away Shorty? He was my first doggy and then, if I did, he would be the only one being given away…and then he’d feel lonely. Not knowing what to do, my mother tried another tactic. She almost-whispered in a grief stricken voice, “ Shorty’s dead now!” For a split second I couldn’t believe my ears, and then the comedy of the situation hit me and I doubled up in laughter telling mom to try child psychology on someone half my age. At that moment, my cousin walked into the room, and my mom told her the whole story. Looking at me with a comical look, my cousin said, “its true, Shorty’s dead. He must be cremated. Let’s burn him!” I threw a pillow at her and that ended the discussion. Shorty stayed!
I washed all my toys and put them in the backyard to dry. This was two days ago, and the damned things are still there, pissing water for all they’re worth. I wonder when they’ll dry….

And so the punishment continues...

2005-04-28T00:03:00.000+05:30

It’s always a bad idea to have Koval over at one’s place. Those who have been reading my blog will know about Koval’s insatiable appetite. Unfortunately, I had the misfortune of dealing with a hungry Koval when she arrived at my place one fine Sunday. You see, I had invited the darned girl over for a day spend, including lunch. Anyhow, a day spend, according to darling Koval, implies arriving at 2:45 pm and departing at 6:00 pm. Let me give you a detailed description of her visit. Koval arrived at 2:45 after promising to reach my house by 2:00 at the latest. By this time, my parents were on the brink of starvation, but being the courteous couple they are, refused to eat till the guest had arrived. So when Koval finally made her entry, I had three ravenous people falling all over the food. While my parents are the epitome of courtesy, Koval dearest doesn’t have the best of table manners. My mother loves feeding people. So when she offered the Bhindi to Koval, the latter, unabashedly, finished half the bowlful. Thankfully, my mother not only has the love, but also the resources to deal with insatiable appetites. A refill of bhindi soon appeared. Whew! That was a relief! I thought I’d never get any, after both Koval and my parents were done with it. Another offering came around, this time of tomato chutney. This time, Koval was rather sheepish; but then she had already had one helping. However, Koval felt another, rather large, helping was in order, and she acted accordingly! Come dessert, Koval declined to eat two gulab-jamuns claming she was on a diet! God help us!
Moving on to after lunch, she decided that we must go out for a walk in the evening. Well, so for a walk we went! It started raining. Walks in the rain I like, but losing my way, missing out on eating ice creams, hitting two dead ends and getting slush all over my new white pants is a different story altogether! Koval and I returned home, drenched to the bone, but satisfied. It was then, that Koval decided that she was thirsty. She had been awfully thirsty ever since she crossed the threshold of my house. At least 2 liters of water and 2 glasses of Coke, Madam declared that her throat was still parched. Ah well, what to do? Give her some more water? OH no! Absolutely wrong move. Why? Koval wants something fun to drink. More Coke? Nope. So mommy always to the rescue, decided to give Koval some iced tea. Can Koval wait? Nope. So out comes some lemon barley to quench her unquenchable thirst! On glass enough? Nope. Another glass? Yes please. Meanwhile, ice tea under construction. Ice tea ready. Has to be put into the freezer to chill. Mom tries desperately to hurry up the process for Koval is still thirsty. Mom put some ice cubes in the tea for Koval. Cold enough? Nope. So back into the freezer it went. Koval meanwhile, for some reason, couldn’t resist the temptation of sticking her head into the freezer. So when my dad walked out of the study, looking bewildered and lost after experiencing the thrills of watching car racing, he was greeted by the rather grotesques sight of a head with not-quite-hair on it stuck inside the freezer. Dear daddy, being the gentleman he is, decided not to question Koval’s antics. However, Koval, rather embarrassed at being caught in the act felt an explanation was in order, so she pulled her head out of the freezer and starting mumbling some inane explanation about her overwhelming needs to cool her head. Dad, very, very confused by now, mumbled something equally inane back. Yes quite. After a spaced out dad, blustering mom and sullen maid, all I need now is a muttering hag in the freezer! Finally, however, the tea did get cold enough, and Koval did enjoy it, and her thirst was quenched, and her hunger was satisfied and she did make her exit. Aw gee! Kaybee, no offence! I had a blast when you came over…
One of my rather over enthusiastic cousins has just proceeded to paint my fingernails on one hand coal black. Damn her!

A Visit to Palam

2005-04-23T23:53:00.000+05:30

After a long time, I visited the domestic airport (which, I learnt, is called Palam) today. First of all, I must comment on the décor of the place. Try they might, but placing two random, artificial palm trees at either end of the passengers’ lounge, in an otherwise barren area, is not the best of ideas for interior decoration. Anyway, the Indian airlines flight, being an Indian airlines flight, very merrily got delayed, while we were standing there waiting for it to arrive. Faced with the dilemma of spending more than an hour at a rather uninteresting place, I racked my brains thinking of something to do which would entertain me. Of course, the first obvious solution was to guzzle on some food, so I dragged my mother along and demanded to be fed something. After eating a chicken pizza and drinking some Mountain Dew, I was feeling rather pleased with myself and also blissfully drowsy. Yes, a nap was in order. A short doze of 15 minutes later, I awoke and decided to look for something that would inspire me to write a blog entry. Thankfully, I didn’t have to look either very far or very hard!
My readers, I speak of the, rather entertaining, sport of people watching. Unlike other guys and girls, I couldn’t indulge in the, also very entertaining, sport of babe/ dude watching respectively. The main reason for this being that there seemed to be a complete dearth of good-looking guys at the domestic airport. And there were a select few who tried their best to look hip, hep, hot, whatever, by gelling their (ugh) long hair back and walking in Salman Khan style. Yes, of course, they failed miserably and looked like a crow caught in the rain. However, I doubt their ultimate motive was to impress me anyway!
So standing at the little gate thingy where the passengers arrive I had a whale of a time staring at peoples’ faces and giggling unashamedly at the funny ones. For, one I was standing opposite all these guys from Maurya Sheraton, who were holding up placards waiting for their guests. Now, instead of having nice warm welcoming expressions, they either looked thunderously angry or singularly bored with the whole affair. The passengers (who were mostly foreign) also were not much better. They all had glum expressions, would glare at everyone around them (usually from under real bushy eyebrows) point sullenly and mutely to the placard with their name and would stride out of the airport looking as though they were on their way to the battlefield. There were also this sudden influx of really, really ugly people, all of whose faces wore an uncanny resemblance to apes. When I mentioned this to my mom, she giggled, and then went off at a tangent and proceeded to lecture me about how they might be really nice people and they couldn’t help how they looked. I fully agreed. They might be the nicest, kindest, sweetest human beings on earth, but really, is it my fault that they look as though they got stuck halfway through evolution?
After this long stream of ugly people, came a bunch of people who had a rather affectionate homecoming group waiting for them. However, these people had other, more important, concerns. One guy had been standing at the gate for a really long time with a huge bouquet of flowers. When, finally, his lady love arrived, he greeted her from afar most effusively with a, “Hey baby, I missed you sooooooooooooooooo much!”Baby, on the other hand, had other ideas. She not-quite-yelled back, “ I really need to go pee!” and promptly rushed off in the opposite direction!
Another lovesick girl however, was so happy to see her soul mate, that she let go of her trolley (baggage and all), which went careering off to crash into to sticking-out leg of a guy from ITC Hotels waiting to welcome MR. Sarah Chen (who by the way, turned out to be a chick in red hotpants!)
An affectionate father wasted fatherly affection when he held out his arms for his little girl to rush into. The little girl, however, decided that her needs would be met much better by chilled glass of Pepsi! Another amusing pair was these two brothers. The younger one, obviously tired of waiting, decided that life would be much more fun if he went around crawling on all fours all about the lounge of the airport. The elder brother, inspired by his younger brother’s antics, decided that life would be much more fun if he attempted to sit on his crawling brother’s head… love makes one do strange things!
What amazes me though, is that none of these people were from IC-201 Indian Airlines Flight from Kolkata. One usually expects Bongs to act this way. But being an Indian Airlines Flight, it had not yet landed! My mother has just declared that I have verbal diarrhea…

Faux Pas!

2005-04-21T00:16:00.000+05:30

Ever made a faux pas? It’s by far the most embarrassing thing you can be caught up in, especially if it’s with people you’re trying to impress. I know a lady who is the queen of faux pas, and I shall relate a few real life incidents that have taken place in front of me or, have been provided by very reliable sources. For privacy’s sake, I shall christen the couple in question as Mr. And Mrs. Roy. Anyone knowing his or her true identity is requested not to reveal it here. Here goes…
Mrs. Roy is a lady who thinks many thoughts at the same time and has a rather complex brain system that processes various ideas simultaneously and, though her communication skills are excellent too, it gets a little difficult for her tongue to keep pace with her mind. Thus, one fine, rather–normal day, Mrs. Roy was overcome by the overwhelming desire to sneeze. However, Mrs. Roy didn’t have a handkerchief and she being rather ‘propah’ and quite a ‘lydee’ thought it improper to sneeze/ blow her nose without a handkerchief.
Mrs. Roy is also a cleanliness freak and thus, was most disturbed to see her husband’s pair of spectacles speckled with spots. Caught between her tickling nose and her irritation at the dirty spectacles, and desperate to kill two birds with one stone, Mrs. Roy looked at Mr. Roy with a glare that rather surprised him, and declared in her loudest voice, “Give me your spectacles, I want to blow my nose!”
Another incident took place when Mrs. Roy was taken to the circus by her affectionate and unsuspecting brother. Mrs. Roy, for all her frills, was quite simple in many ways. She had never seen an elephant’s penis. So at the circus, when the elephant stood up on both its hind legs in a display of balance, causing the crowd to applaud loudly, all Mrs. Roy could do was wear an astonished look on her face, dig her brother in the ribs and say in a sibilant, and rather audible, whisper, “ Ooh look! The elephant has two tails!!”
Mrs. Roy’s faux pas were also a source of some wonderful coinages. One day, Mrs. Roy was feeling very hungry as well thirsty. She demanded to know why the maid had not given dinner yet. Finally, not being able to bear her rumbling stomach or her parched throat any more, Mrs. Roy turned on poor Mr. Roy yet again and said, “ Tell the maid I want dinner NOW! Can’t you see, I’m simply dying of thunder!” Mr. Roy was rather astonished at the entire affair and wondered why his dear wife, out of all the things in the universe, should die of thunder…
The most recent faux pas in my life, was made by me. It was made last night. My uncle’s visiting, so since I have an extra bed in my room, we decided to put him up there. My uncle loves teasing me. So he entered my room and declared he wouldn’t sleep there at all, since he wasn’t sure that I didn’t snore. Highly offended, I retorted in my loudest bet, “I don’t snore! You should know! You’ve slept with me before!” After my uncle, mom and dad started giggling, the faux pas dawned on me and I was overcome by horror. In a desperate attempt to cover up I said, “ I mean you’ve slept with me, in my room, before!”
Nope, nah! Not the best of comebacks was that!!

A re ode!

2005-04-19T16:17:00.000+05:30

Koval is a horrid, horrid girl for demanding a reode, proclaiming my last one not good enough and having the audacity to message me at 2 at night reminding me about the reode!
Koval has already got more than her share her of mention on my blog, but she is greedy, yes greedy, for wanting more!
Koval’s hair has already been introduced, so I shall not elucidate on that further.
Koval is an egoist. She has a HUGE ego (more than the sum of a 100 male egos put together, and that’s saying a lot)
Koval has an even huger arse (more than the sum of a 100 Govinda arses put together, and that’s saying a lot too). As I type, her arse continues to expand. Sssssomebody Sssssstop me!
Koval is smart, very smart; is very bright and all, but when it comes to discerning left from right, she has the brains of a louse and less!
Koval is feared; deeply feared, by all sane people, for her vicious, animal-like behaviour and the way she pounces on harmless people walking down the corridor.
Koval has an insatiable appetite! She eats and eats and eats and eats and eats and still goes around with the expression of a starved crow, though her waistline tells a different story. Mind you, this girl was once petite, quite petite!
Koval is tiny, miniscule and has just about made it to 5 feet! This is not a particularly good thing because, for one, she makes tall guys feel awful uncomfy by holding animated conversations with their crotches, and secondly, she decides to wear high heels (in which she can totally not walk) on the farewell, hang around with me at the same and consequentially, make mincemeat of my defenseless toes. She is often referred to as chhtuki by two rather good-humoured, relatively tall guys who are two years her junior!
Koval has a smile, which looks like someone just unzipped her mouth! It’s the widest smile I’ve ever seen and literally stretches from ear to ear. It is also one of the warmest smiles I’ve seen, though it gets really cheesy at times!
Koval loves classic rock, but doesn’t do the world a favour by proceeding to sing Led Zep and the works in her loud, yodeling voice, making the lot of them sound like Kishore Kumar’s distant cousins!
Koval better be satisfied now and ideally should be reading this and grinning gleefully and triumphantly as she squats merrily in her tires of flesh!
Till next time readers! I apologize profoundly….

Gah!

2005-04-15T23:49:00.000+05:30

I have promised Koval an ode. So dear readers, bear with me, read this ode, or don’t bear with me and proceed onto matter of more importance that follow.
Koval is the girl who has randomly wandered into my shoutbox recently. She is, for all who don’t know her, rather off beat. She loves, absolutely loves being called by the extremely cheesy name of ‘KayBee’! She has a rather high opinion of herself and thinks herself to be quite a lot of things with which others would be wont to disagree. Koval has freaky hair. When I say freaky I mean really, really freaky. You see, she had them straightened some eons back and it didn’t work on her exceedingly tight curls, therefore she landed up for a few months with hair that looked like hair found on other parts of one’s anatomy, apart from the head! Now, she has tight curls, which she doesn’t comb frequently, and bunches up into a ponytail (?) at the top of her head. Looks cute, except when she wets her hair and leaves them open. Then she looks like Medusa II released. Kaybee is a close friend of mine, though she insists that I am merely a ‘close acquaintance’. She wrote me an awfully mean slam sheet, which she doesn’t mean a word of (the mean part that is). Kaybee is an atheist, hates stereotypes, fundamentalism, judgmental people and hypocrites. She, on the other hand, dotes on Clint Eastwood, smoothies(well made) , aloo ke paranthe with malai and good movies. Kaybee is one of her kind, and all she needs is a bit of freedom to go her own way. She would go where her heart, mind and soul would take, if only she was free from all sorts of shackles of life, in general. Go girl! Are you happy now?
Yes, so today, I had Arjun, Shantanu and Shefali over. Great to see them after soooo long. I really, really miss school and seeing them reminded me just how much I miss it. I miss hanging out with them in the break, I miss ripping people of whatever precious little money they had, I miss mass bunking Eco, I miss fighting with little sixthies about who would get to make the announcement (because it was so cool to press the button and hear your own voice and then rush out of the office and ask random people if they heard the announcement), I miss the stares people used to give me, sniggering, as I’d carry a rather inconvenient looking Tanpura across the school to load into a bus going for an interschool music meet, I miss going for the music meets and competitions and always criticising the food and ‘refreshments’ given to us, I miss giggling in Pol science classes at Mrs Pental’s rather queerly earnest expressions, I miss missing history periods by listening to Padma’s ‘tales’ . Oh yes, I miss school terribly, every little thing about it. But I guess you guys have already gotten the point.
On other news, well its hot, freaking hot, and I am forced into abandoning jeans and wearing shorts. Slight problem though. I’m lazy, so I don’t change when I go out to the market et al. Net result, some very not-so-cool, unhunky guys can do little but stare at my legs and leer at me. Damn! Wait till all my leggy hair grows back, that’ll turn them off right there and then, and will allow me to shop peacefully. But till then, I must suffer the demerits of waxing!
I went and saw Million Dollar Baby. Brilliant Film. Totally deserved the Oscar. Hillary Swank was damn good, and Clint Eastwood was, well, Clint Eastwood. Need I say more? I also fell slightly ill in between, with awful tummy ache and horrid fever but am fine now. Please sympathise with my plight anyhow! Buh bye, I shall leave you all to mourn….

cows and whatnot...

2005-04-11T23:49:00.000+05:30

I went to school today. It felt good to walk through the hallowed portals of that place. I went with Zafar and bumped into Karan later on. Zafar, in a demonstration of masculinity, decided it would be rather nice to shake Karan’s hand and bang him on the back rather boisterously. This show of manliness, however, was wasted on Karan, who looked awfully pained, and tried to escape. Zafar’s claim was “this is what guys do!”, my claim was “not for Karan, he’s a computer geek!” and Karan’s claim was “ Stop pinching me already!” Yes, quite fun that was! Zafar, also acting like an imbecile, lost our gate pass. It posed to be not a problem for him, for with Jeanie Ma’am’s assurance, he sauntered out peacefully at 12:00. It was I, and I alone, who had to face the music, when I meekly tried to make my exit at 12:15. Yes, thanks to dear Zafar’s carelessness and random gusts of wind, I got nicely nailed by a rather impolite guard at the gate. He simply refused to believe I was an ex-student and seemed to think I was an imposter of sorts. This, mind you, even after I produced an ID card. The way he went on, I quite began to feel that he thought I was associated with the Al Qaeda or something and had come there solely to steal Chona’s beauty secrets. Honestly! Considering what the school has become like, I was amazed that Zafar and I were not sized up by any teacher. You know, ladka ladki akele school mein ghoom rahe hai! Well, other than that fiasco, I met up with quite a few of my teachers and 11thees. That was nice.
I must tell you all about a mad cow. One day, my dog ran out of the back door into the little galli behind the house. My mother, who was scared that Firni would run onto the main road, woke me up, yelling hysterically at me to run after the dog. She, being in her nightclothes, couldn’t give chase; however, thought it extremely appropriate for me to jump out of bed, rub my eyes and run on to the road in my chappals and nightclothes, chasing the dog like a maniac. So there I was, trying to corner Firni. Much to my surprise, a cow had wandered in and Firni was taking utmost delight in teasing it. I was scared that Firni would get kicked, so I ran to protect her. The cow looked slightly bewildered at all the commotion, which was interrupting its cud chewing, so it decided to protest. It lowered its blunted horns to butt us, but ha! we leapt nimbly aside. Unfortunately, the next act of violence was in perfect aim. The cow kicked, my dog avoided it, and it caught me on the knee….grrrrrr….getting up in the morning to be dragged out of your bed and get kicked by a cow, and consequentially tear your favourite night pajamas at the knee is not my idea of a pleasant wake up call! Thankfully, nobody got hurt- not me, not the dog or the cow. And, as is the case usually, peace and calm was restored and everybody was returned to their respective places- me to my bed, the cow to the road and the dog into my ‘loving’ mother’s arms! It’s always about the dog. Nobody loves me!!!

An Ordeal

2005-04-08T16:03:00.000+05:30

For those of you who treasure whatever little sanity you might possess, believe in me, trust in me and never ever go out for a movie with both Manav and Zafar. You can tackle them one at a time, but both of them together is like this awful 2000 volt electric shock running through you, not quite killing you, but subjecting you to utmost agony for long durations…
To begin with, conversation at lunch is not very appetizing, with Zafar delighting in morbid stories of broken bones, stitches and whatnot and Manav taking delight in wondering what colour puke would have come out of a certain person’s mouth, if that person had done something or the other, or seen something or the other! Yes well, then comes the part of traveling in the auto. I, of course, most unfortunately, sat in the middle both ways –to and from Priya! Not nice, not nice at all…. On the way to, Manav amused himself with two of his favourite hobbies: hitting on Zafar and singing. Anyone who has the pleasure of knowing dear old Manav would know what he sings like…and yesterday, he had to sing even louder to drown the sound of the auto. However, this had its dire consequences. See, I don’t mind Manav singing, it stops him from being pervy, but Zafar clearly did not approve. Therefore, his raised his voice, in wrath, above the sound of the auto’s racket and Manav’s cacophony and yelled “SHUT UP,YOU FREAK!” you see, it was done all good intentions at heart….But being about a foot and a half away from the
auto’s engine and about 5 inches away from both Manav’s and Zafar’s mouths, I didn’t have a very pleasant time! The second hobby of Manav’s also led to horrid circumstances for me. Manav tried rubbing Zafar’s thigh. Zafar reacted violently. Zafar doesn’t have the world’s best aim and of course, while lunging out at Manav, caught me on the head 99% of the time! Ah well, thus dazed and deafened, I reached Priya. Saw the movie without many hitches. Nice one- The Pacifier.
There was this one guy in the movie- this one, insignificant, tiny, hardly-in-the-movie guy- who spoke in a French accent. Manav, was highly inspired by this fellow, and on the way back, in addition to the above mentioned problems, Manav decided to greet random people on the road with a ‘Hello’ in maha French accent. Me, being a Sanskrit student, couldn’t follow a word of what Manav was saying (he wouldn’t stop talking to me in French) and Zafar, being Zafar, refused to help with the translations…. Might I mention, that Manav had also been talking in French to the many cows around Basant Lok complex and was exclaiming loudly in French while pointing at their udders. I think most of the harmless pedestrians got the basic gist of things and therefore, wore most appalled looks on their faces when they saw Manav’s rather peculiarly bovine interests. Manav went as far as to hail an auto with a rather dignified ‘Monsieur!’ The auto driver was not used to being addressed in French, presumably, and was rather amazed at this sudden peculiarity of speech!
Yes well, it was fun nevertheless. Later in the evening, the three of us dropped by at Atika Maam’s house for a dose of normality. That was nice too….
The Pope is being buried today. This is the first time a Pope’s funeral is being televised. The funeral procession is one of the most long drawn, elaborate and (pardon me) singularly boring affairs. The Vatican is one of the most beautiful places and the church is exquisite. The Pope deserved it, being such a great man and fulfilling his responsibility with such dedication for such a long time. Roman Catholicism is a beautiful religion. All I’m saying is that it’s little too full of fuss and frills… He’s about to be buried. I’m going to watch it. Au revoir!

Dance like a Man...

2005-04-03T23:58:00.000+05:30

Dearest readers, I wish to inform the lot of you that my darned boards have finally ended. If anyone of you would like to know what pure, unadulterated ecstasy is, try giving your boards for a month, with 20 days in between, then finishing your last paper exactly at 1:30 pm, on retrospect, realizing that your paper went well enough to be included in bfs, looking forward to the next day, which you had planning for weeks, and then, further on to 2 months of an entranceless, relaxing time! Yes, my friends, on the 1^st of April at 1:35 pm, I got a glimpse of true heaven! Fool that I am!

Yesterday was a rather, rather hectic day. One of my friends decided to become an adult with a flourish and treat us all to a day at Appu Ghar. There was only a slight hitch of her running outta money, but the rest of us took care of that! It was fun enough, only let me warn you, if you must go to Appu Ghar at 12 noon and come back at 5:30, do carry a cap of some sort and NEVER, EVER ride the Ferris Wheel or the twister after a good, rather filling, lunch. Come evening, and I had to go for Zafar’s party. Manav picked Rhythma (who had spent the day with me) and me at about 7:30. Dearest Manav, who usually droops by my place at the drop of a hat to surprise me, lost his way last night, (hence) arrived late, said I looked like a friendly witch in all my ‘glory’ and proudly walked away with two dames by his side! Zafar’s party, unexpectedly, was great fun…. we all had a gorgeous time, what with dancing and randomly calling his dogs by the names of Lajwanti, Rani, Gudiya and the like… Was dropped home by Manav at about 11:30. Yes, a great day.

Moving on to more important things, I have a rather amusing anecdote to relate to you people. You see, I have this habit of staying up really late to study and I take breaks in between. During one such break, on one such night, my mother walked sleepily into the study and declared that she couldn’t sleep. She decided to watch some TV. Since I was listening to music, I told her to watch it on mute, therefore, debarring her from watching a movie or serial of any sort. All she could do was flip through channels. While doing so, she came across DD Tamil, which was showing ‘hot and sexy’ music videos. While watching the video, it suddenly struck mom that the fellas dancing on TV were dancing to the beat of the song playing on the computer. Letting out an excited squeal, she beckoned me and after that began an hour of me selecting songs from my play list to match the dances on DD Tamil. It was hilarious, watching Tamil ‘dudes’ (who must always have a moustache) shake a leg to 50 cents. But the funny part was not the fact that they were dancing, but how they were dancing and what they looked like when they were dancing.

Keep in mind that these videos were supposed to be erotic and sensuous. Enter man with moocha shaking legs to ‘rocking’ beat. Consequentially, not only do legs shake but so does pot belly. Arms bent at the elbows, being flapped up and down, poor man looks like a distraught chicken. * 50 cents rapping In Da Club to man dancing* Enter ‘sexy, hot babe’…

Wearing rather microscopic clothes but not quite having the figure for it. * 50 cents continues rapping* Girl shakes leg, thereby, shaking lot of loose flab on extremely visible thigh, midriff, bare arms and boobs. Not nice, no! Man, leering at her, approaching her with utmost stealth (?) while background dancers continue shaking legs and rest of their bodies. Meanwhile camera zooms. Man places hand on fat girl’s tummy, necks her, his moustache tickling her, flab quivering everywhere and sensuously, the two, enveloped in their love for each other, blend harmoniously into each others arms, synchronize their steps and begin a whole new world of flab quivering! This is truly an erotic video….Must catch it if you can. Makes for a good break while studying Marxism…

Signing off….

With my feet on the ground...

2005-03-25T18:51:00.000+05:30

I love my house, but sometimes, I just can’t help but wish it wasn’t on the ground floor. Sure, sure, you don’t have to climb stairs and all, but trust me, where I stay; a ground floor can be a bloody pain sometimes! The first, and primary, problem is that of gravity. You see, most objects on this earth gravitate towards the ground. And, if there is nothing to intercept the fall of such objects, then woe betide us, they fall plonk! in either our backyard or our front yard. Well, the little girl (brat that she is) who lives on the second floor has taken a sudden dislike to her menu and has frequented the habit of throwing food down from her balcony. I daresay, she aims at the little gali behind our house, but her either her aim is not that great or her strength is not enough. Whatever the case is, her food usually lands in our backyard. So it’s not unusual these days to see some roti or rice or a rather grotesque looking sabzi lying in our backyard at odd times. This food attracts a vast number of birds of myriad shapes and sizes, and while I am a nature lover and appreciate all forms of life, its not very nice to be woken up from your afternoon siesta with loud squawks, shrieks, chirps and caws emitting from your backyard, very inharmoniously combined with the frenzied barking of our golden lab, Firni!

Pigeon shit…another problem, emitting from gravity. There’s this little space right in the middle of our building, which acts as a sort of courtyard in the middle, and runs up all three floors. Ah well, at the top of this are roosting a number of pigeons who take to purging very often. See, usually bird shit doesn’t stink, but for the past few weeks there’s been some rainfall and, hell oh hell, let me warn you, wet pigeon shit smells worse then anything anyone of you could have possibly smelt in a science lab!! No amount of bathroom freshener, Phenyl, Odonil or room freshener seems to work. The situation becomes embarrassing if one has guests over, and it becomes even worse, if these guests, in an attempt to be sympathetic, suggest various remedies to rid the area of the smell!

Holi’s here and all badly aimed balloons land up in our front yard! It’s not fair! Not only do Aaroti Didi and Firni protest vehemently, but also it just reminds me that this shall be yet another year of no Holi playing. Not that its one of my favourite things to do, the way they play it here, all mucky and all! But then, what all doesn’t one wish to do when one is giving boards! The stupidest things seem appealing! Holi has led to other problems also. This afternoon, some balloons hit a rather short-tempered young man, who immediately aimed a stone at the balloon thrower, missed and consequentially, shattered a window. Furious owner of window shrieking her head off, demanding payment, young man, abusing and protesting, big fight taking place (with lots of exotic Kashmiri abuse) and my afternoon siesta ruined yet again!

Now, while things that aren’t supposed reach the ground do, the things that are supposed to, never seem to! Take for instance, the winter sun. We get a lovely amount of winter sum in out front yard, but on every decently sunny, wintry day, the first floor wali aunty decides that it’s a good day to do her washing, so she proceeds to wash humongous curtains and bed covers and whatnot and drape them over the railing of her balcony, merrily blocking our winter sun!

Another problem is of the feline kind. Now our colony has a vast number of cats - and they are either very slutty cats or very horny tomcats! This is why every night; there is an awful ruckus- of cats mating. Those of you who haven’t heard their mating call thank your lucky stars and count your blessings! The sounds they make (which are supposed to be arousing for the feline species) is like a cacophonic combination of babies bawling and peacocks calling at about 320 decibels! Unfortunately, my room is the closest to their mating grounds; and that is what prevents me from going to sleep as fast as I should. An erotic cat calling let me tell you, is no lullaby!

My mother now claims that I look like I’ve risen out of a dustbin, so I must go and look undustbinnish. Ta!

Lugaretzia's Laments!

2005-03-19T22:53:00.000+05:30

I had my economics exam today, it was brilliant, till I realized that I left out a 4 marker, as in, missed it…. since then, I haven’t wished to pursue the subject and thus, shall not….

Today, I shall write about my dahling maid, also known affectionately as Aaroti Didi. Readers, I will have you know that the following piece of writing has nothing whatsoever to do with prejudice and discrimination. If it were my mother I would have written in quite the same way. It’s just that she has one of the most colourful personalities I have ever seen….

Aaroti didi has been with us for about 11 years and has suffered enough dog bites to be now admitted in as part of the family. Aaroti didi has two expressions- deadpan and angry. When she’s deadpan, well, she looks like she’s been carved out of stone and when she’s angry, she need only look at the milk to make curd! Her laugh is like the wheezing of an old man dying… She is also one who is the victim of a number of strange habits. The first would be the incessant conversations she holds with herself 24X7 and the banshee mode her voice switches to when she’s talking affectionately to the dog. Another would be her habit of sitting in the drawing room in the late afternoon, wrapped up like a cocoon in a red old shawl of hers, covering her head too, and peacefully snoring away till the wee hours of the evening, refusing to budge till her siesta is over, thereby startling many-a-person who has come a-visiting our house and been let in by us. Trust me, it’s not very pleasant to walk into a dim drawing room and see and an abstract red shape resting against a chair, periodically making strange snorting sounds!!! However, the strangest habit of hers would be to pick up random, discarded things from the parks and use them herself…. Through this habit, she has acquired a strange assortment of things, including jewelry- random rings and earrings- , her spectacle frame which she brought back with immense care and washed gently and as been using for the past 5 years and a pair of what my mother refers to as ‘clodhoppers’!

Aaroti Didi has lived in Delhi for quite a while now and still has refused to learn Hindi and insists on fighting vociferously with grocery men, vegetable vendors, postmen and sales people in rapid-fire Bengali. She had also, initially, shocked most of my friends when they’d call, though now they are more or less accustomed to the usual “Meeta ghor mein nai! Ke? Naam baulo?Baade phone karega!” which is the maximum effort she has put into speaking Hindi and translates into, “Smita (Meeta) ghar pe nahi hai. Kaun? Aapka naam kya hai? Woh baad mein phone karegi!”

Aaroti didi also loves copying my mother in everything, be it habits, wardrobe, mannerisms, anything. This has resulted in quite a lot of amusing incidents. One of which took place about a year ago. It was her afternoon off and she was going out to the market to buy some stuff for herself and her family, with some friends. Before leaving she declared most vehemently, “aajke aami naaty kinbo!” which means, “today I shall buy a natty!” This left us all feeling quite mystified and curious to know what ‘natty’ was all about. Well, she came home and proudly declared that she had bought a natty. When we asked her to show it to us, she unfolded a long garment of red cloth with white frills around the neck, something which is commonly referred to as ‘nightie’. Yes well, she looked pleased as punch and went off triumphantly bearing her prize. She was now the proud owner of a natty! Her choice of everyday wear is also getting more and more influenced by stuff my mom used to wear earlier. So, these days, we see her moving about the house in sleeveless blouses with deep necks and stuff. The only problem is that she’s actually quite a miser and thus, has acquired her clothes from her various friends, who want to give away their extra clothes. She quite happily accepts them, irrespective of their size. So we usually have to look around in a mass of cloth to discover Aaroti Didi swimming somewhere in them! The only time she wears her own clothes (consisting of clothes she’s bought for herself and the ones we’ve gifted to her) are the times when she dresses up to visit the homeopath. Did I mention that she is a hypochondriac of the first order? Well she is! And it just becomes worse and worse, and I have a nasty notion that soon I might have to follow her about the house with a bottle of quick fix hastily gluing on any parts that might fall off, or threaten to! The way she goes on, you should hear her! If she stubs her toe, she’ll swear that every bone in her leg has been shattered to a million pieces and then will demand to be taken to the doctor!

Aaori didi has recently acquired an interesting pair of shoes, picked up from goodness knows which park and what end of the colony. These shoes are her favourite. They are golden and have slight heels and the clacking noise they make thoroughly delights her. A slight catch though! They are at least two sizes too big for her…but she remains undaunted and goes clattering around the house in her ‘clodhoppers’! And when she goes to the homeopath’s she wears her usual chappals! Honestly….

Dear old Aaroti Didi! She’s quite a character!

As the moments tick by...

2005-03-16T22:14:00.000+05:30

Eco exam is on Saturday. I’ve been having an absolute ball till now, my cousin’s over. We’ve been having a gorgeous time. I’m not too worried about my course, because I’ve done it all before and am not freaking out too much. Today, my cousin was supposed to come over for dinner, but, overeagerly, he arrived at 6, so since then basically all padhai has stopped. We went to Ansal Plaza to check out some music…After a long time, I went to music world. Somehow, the kind of music that’s been recently released doesn’t get my attention much. I mean, everyone’s into the usual hard rock, rap, hip-hop, and reggae. It gets rather annoying after a while. So I went and picked up 2 cds of Indian Ocean –Soundtrack of Black Friday and Jhinni. I also picked up a cd by Steve Winwood. My cousin decided to gift them to me!! Woo hoo!! Blisssssssssss!

People all around me are getting into colleges and have their futures more or less chalked out. Manav and PC are into NUJS. Skaranses and Bhavya have gotten into awesome colleges and univs abroad. Till a few months back, I would have given anything to gaze into a crystal ball, see what my future holds for me. Now that I’m actually faced with the only obstacle between my future and me, an uncanny fear clutches at my heart. I’m suddenly panic stricken and extremely regretful about the fact that I didn’t give either my SATs or law entrances. Now I’m totally dependent on my boards, I mean, I’m trying my best and giving it my best shot and all, but there’s so much that rallies on that 1% of luck and chance. What if I don’t do well; or the examiner goofs up; or I get rejected at the Stephen’s interview. Yes, yes, I know- life shall not end, the sun shall still rise in the east, the world will still go round; but I, for one, will be shattered and broken. For a considerable length of time at least… I just wish I could rewind the last few months and relive them, with more effort and perseverance, than what I’ve done till now. But, I’m also a coward. And currently, I just don’t want to face the future, scared to experience the suspense of the moths ahead, adamantly looking away from the crystal ball…

Simply petrified….

eh?

2005-03-13T16:12:00.000+05:30

A ten-day long gap between exams tends to make one restless. At least, this applies to me, cos I can, somehow, never manage to study for too long a time at a stretch. So I thought, why not blog a bit? So here I am, with little, and not very interesting, tidbits. Don’t blame me; I’m in the middle of my boards!

I usually dislike Enrique Iglesias’s music, but to my amazement, the other day, I discovered a really nice song, in the album ‘seven’. It’s called ‘Free’ or ‘I’m free’, I’m not sure which. But it’s a really nice song. It’s got a very interesting beat and the electric guitar is damn good. And I finally discovered that song everyone’s been talking about. While flipping through the channels the other day, I hit upon ‘Rock Da Party’ by Bombay Rockers, who, I believe, are based in Denmark. Well, the song was all right, but will someone puh-leese explain the video to me? It begins sanely enough, with 2 guys driving down the Danish countryside, singing about some party or something, and then camera switches to a girl’s bedroom, where she’s just about getting up to go to the party (I think). Yes, well till there, everything’s fine, but then the supernatural decides to step in…. and suddenly, you see the stuff toy on the girl’s bedside table calling up other stuff toys. The screen is then split into 4 boxes, each with a stuff toy talking on the phone. There’s a rabbit, a bird a teddy and a something else (a horse, if I’m not mistaken)! Now the next thing you know is those driving-wale guys are in some underground parking or something, and the stuff toys (which have suddenly become life size) arrive and start beating these guys up. Then a full-fledged, Bollywood-type fight takes place between the stuff toys and the guys. And the screen is then filled with captions, quite like Batman, except that there is no ‘boink’ and ‘Ka-Boom’! More like ‘Crazy horse’ or ‘Super Bunny’ and things like that. Anyway, the guys get really badly beaten up and are lying in awful positions on the floor, all bruised and all. What happens in the next few moment, I forget, but I remember that the video ends on a highly dramatic note. The camera zooms in on this window on the first floor of this house and there’s the teddy bear (reduced to normal size, once again) who draws his finger menacingly across his throat!

People around me have decided to switch to the Cartoon Network Mode and while Manu’s been posting lyrics of a song from Shake Yer Tail Feathers, Maanick and I have been obsessed by the lyrics from Fairy tales aired on Cartoon Network. These would include ‘I’m all alone’ from ‘The Ugly Duckling’ and ‘spring is in the Air’ from ‘Thumbelina’! Only Skaranses remains ever loyal, and faithfully recites (or types out) the lyrics of LOTR songs religiously on chat windows while Maanick and I have restricted ourselves to Cartoon Network songs and Bitter Sweet Symphony. There was quite an online cacophony the other night, when Tara, Maanick and I were typing out the lyrics from bittersweet symphony at break neck speed, and Manu and Skaranses were on the LOTR track! But really, hats off to that guy (Tolkien)! I whole heartedly agree with Skaranses when he says that Tolkien was one of the best writers and poets in English Literature. His style is beautiful, his use of language; impeccable, his visions; mesmerizing, his imagination; awe-inspiring, his descriptions; fascinating, his depictions; vivid and his books, unputdownable! Yes, the world shall never see another Tolkien…

But, life must go on and the Eco exam must arrive and therefore, I must depart! Ta!

Whew!

2005-03-10T00:37:00.000+05:30

Yup, it's up!History's over and done with! Never again will I have to read the "rubbish NCERT" as Padma puts it, never again will I have to read about the Peshwas, or Lenin or any of the barmy lot!I 'm freeeeeeeeeeeee.. forevaaaaaaa....
The paper, technically, wasn't as good as I had hoped. But then, I was aiming at a 90 up. With luck, I should hit an 85. Mostly, people whined about the paper- so I'm guessing it was a collective bad paper, with the exception of Manav, who whined, but will come out with a 90 ,nevertheless.
The feeling of relief and elation combined sent me up to cloud no. 9 and I decided to give myself a break. Had guests over for lunch. Thankfully not the boring type, neither the old lady type. I hate it when old aunties exclaim over how tall you've grown over the past 6 years or how well you sing and other tosh.
The evening was rather interesting. Mother dearest, overflowing with the milk of human kindness(I love this phrase!), decided to get involved in some match making and rushed my cousin over to her friend's place for an impromptu meeting with a girl. recommended by this friend, who was willing to 'settle down'. Well, the woman turned out to be quite a hag, to put it politely, and was also a snoot of the first order! So that was a fizzle out...It takes all kinds to make this world.
All in all, a fun day. Now Eco's on the 19th. Not too tensed for that. It's been raining too, bringing the mercury level down.
Bliss!

So far, so good!hehe..

2005-03-04T23:38:00.000+05:30

4th March 2005. AISSCE-2005 English Core.
Extremely satisfactory. Shall not predict, however, the subject at hand being English. Writing skills were fun. Set 1 and Set 3 had interesting articles about rainy days and first days at school. Don't get that kinda stuff too frequently anymore...
Quite reminded me of "I was woken up by a strange, green light shining in my garden and...". 'Twas fun, gave room enough for creativity. Comprehension, I felt, was a pushover. Literature did not, thankfully, screw my ass. No questions from Impeachment! Woo hoo!
Next is history. Kindly bring white flowers for my funeral. Y'all are cordially invited...Adieu

Limericks Galore!

2005-03-02T20:47:00.000+05:30

“ I once knew a guy called Pete,
Who was so exceedingly neat,
That when he got out of bed,
He stood on his head,
So that he wouldn’t soil his feet.”

“ I new a lady from Lynn,
Who was so exceptionally thin,
That when she essayed
to drink lemonade,
She slipped through the straw and fell in!”

“Brevity is the soul of wit,
Fart is the soul of shit…”
- Courtesy Manav Kapur

“ I knew a girl named Betty,
Who was horribly smelly and sweaty,
And when a snow monster we met,
Betty broke into a sweat,
And that was the end of the Yeti!”

“Exams are a trial, my friend.
They drive me round the bend.
They make me grumpy and moody,
Nervous and broody…
And when I begin to study, they end.”

Bah! 2 more days to go....

2005-02-26T23:26:00.001+05:30

As doomsday approaches, all one can hear are groans all around; as the tension builds, everyone sounds like it’s their last day on the planet; call up anyone, and they sound like they’re speaking from their deathbed. Only, the other day, I advised a bunch of sciencees not to sound like they were being crushed under a hundred tons of pure iron. Remorsefully, they assured me that the physics and chemistry courses put together were much, much worse than that! Ah well, this too shall pass…

I, on the other hand, am not feeling quite as tense as I’m supposed to, and the mere fact that I’m not tense is making me tense. Since the days monotonous and rather dull, there’s precious little to talk about. So today, I shall proceed to introduce you to a rather quaint little person, who has been the source (and cause) of many an amusing tale and who can take credit for Bhavya’s usual way of acknowledging my presence –“Smeeta”. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Avik Ganguly. What, might you ask, is the reason for this sudden introduction to a person most of you have never, and might never, see. Well, the first would be, as I have pointed out earlier, lack of anything to write about. The second would be that I was talking to him on the phone today (which surprised him a great deal, as he felt somehow, that all phone calls are, as of now, being “censored”), when he said that he had discovered my blog and searched in vain for his name and didn’t find it anywhere. Thus, li’l ol’ me promised him an ode, quite similar to the way I gave Skaranses, Shantanu and Manav “special mentions”. Yes, well so Avik Ganguly is the sort of person who is very hard to come by. He has strange ways and strange passions. One anecdote with Avik: I met him in McDonald’s when I was out with Arjun and Vasudha for MUNA work. We were grabbing a bite at McDonald’s. We had just taken possession of our trays and the other two had gone upstairs and I was on the way up, when I spotted Avik walk in. Me, being me, yelled out in sheer delight,”HEY AVIK!” Avik looked up, detected the source of the noise and, without batting an eyelid, calmly turned around and continued placing his order, giving me the royal ignore. Rather puzzled, I went upstairs and proceeded to have a lovely time with Arjun and Vasudha, but that, of course, is another story. The next day I met Avik in school (mind you, the two of us sit together in class usually) and not wanting to embarrass either him or myself, didn’t mention the happenings of the day before. Then, surprise, surprise! Avik, himself, came up to me and said, “Smita, I’m really sorry about yesterday, but you see, I never say hi to anyone in public.” Well, I was rather taken aback. I, for a moment, had no idea how to react. But words do not fail me often, or for long. So I said to him, “ Not a problem at all. The next time I want to say hi to you, I’ll take you to a nice, cosy, dark, private corner and we can exchange all our pleasantries there!” There was another time when I invited him to my birthday party and his response was “Thanks, but no thanks”. Rather offended, I asked him whyever not. He said he doesn’t go to birthday parties. Ah well, it takes all kinds to make the world. And Avik may have his many quirks and be different, but he’s a gem of a person. His honesty and confidence, I admire greatly; his sense of humour, I appreciate; and his ability to be himself in front of anyone and everyone, I envy. So here’s to you, Avik, my friend, and my partner at solving many a crossword!

Nothing much to say now. My bitch is currently rather attractive to other dogs in the vicinity. I have a tough time trying to keep the horny, young, middle-aged and doddering dogs away from her during her walks. My history course is finally getting to me. I have it pouring out of my ears, nose, eyes and mouth. I’m vomiting history. And that’s where the fundamental problem lies- it refuses to be retained! I’ve lost the will to study now. Damn! I was listening to Indian Ocean’s ‘Kandisa’ this night. Really liked it. Nice, earthy and fluid. Very refreshing. Bhavya has informed me that I have the privilege of being his and PC’s next target for meanness. That should be fun. They, apparently, have tired of Manav and Damini.

This hasn’t made a very interesting read for all of you, so I’ll just shut up now. But before I depart, I would like to reiterate my point, there’s nothing much to talk about!

B-L-A-C-K: Black

2005-02-24T00:24:00.000+05:30

Yup, finally went and saw it. Apart from Amitabh being 'Amitabh', I have to admit the movie was flawless. As for a review, I'm speechless and spellbound. Words simply fail me, and trust me that doesn't happen too often! It's very rare that a Hindi movie leaves such a deep impact on me and actually gets me thinking.
Life's a roller coaster. It has its ups and downs.
On the up side, I finally installed Haloscan! Wheeeeeeeeeeee! Actually, more like it got automatically installed or something. But, wheeeeeeeeeee, nevertheless!! Now, hopefully, Anonymice shall not plague me half as much.
On the down side, I have just had an encounter with one of the most horrific horrors been recently unleashed on the contemporary world. Yes, I speak of JLo's song 'Get Right'. Here, words do not fail me. It's the most hideous, horrible, horrendous, icky, blyechy, nerve- racking, blood-pressure-raising, teeth-gnashing and ,oh yeah, irritating song in this universe. It also posseses immense tenacity of life. No matter how many times, or in how many ways, you try to kill it, the bloody thing refuses to die. You can stab it, wring its neck, try smothering it...but, alas! To no avail. The annoying thing remains adamantly stuck in your head. In retrospect, it makes me shudder to think that, just a few minutes back, I was humming the dratted thing while learning up Muslim Politics and the Nationalist Movement. Which reminds me, I'd better go finish off my history work...
My toes and nose are freeeeeeeezing. Why can't the bloody weatherman make up his dratted mind?

Groaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnn!!!!

2005-02-20T23:56:00.000+05:30

Life’s hell…Added to the bloody problem of the boards coming up next month, I have yet more worries. Those who cannot bear the thought of me discussing my anatomy on a public forum, kindly do not proceed. But, others may proceed at their own risk… I will tend to get hysterical, so don’t say I didn’t warn you!

THEY’RE SHRINKING! Shrinking, I ask you!! I mean, as though being small wasn’t enough. Yes, my lovely little mosquito bites, which have been planted most graciously by the Lord Almighty on my chest, are fast diminishing. Don’t even ask how. If I knew, I wouldn’t be bemoaning the fact! So while my bustily gifted friends go around, boasting of increasing sizes every month, all my lovely little lasses can do are shrink… I mean, it’s a classic case of grapes drying up to become raisins, while my friends will able to compete with Mother Dairy when the appropriate time comes! What the hell, man…

I HATE being a girl… It’s so annoying. You’re perpetually worried about having a nice figure, or well, at least a hilly terrain, and then, you have a hajaar little problems of how you sit, how you walk blah blah! It’s messy, tiresome and very unsatisfactory, being a female is!

Ah yes, the beautiful boards. Well, most of the bloody time I find myself daydreaming or fantasizing. Neither is very helpful, since the former makes me drowsy and the latter does anything but that! But neither makes me mug up dratted history dates! I can just feel my enthusiasm ebbing away, being sapped outta me, as I sit cooped up in the house, trying to study, getting nowhere, the only respite being a ½ hour walk with Mommy Dearest in the evening and sometimes, even that doesn’t happen.. I might be exaggerating a bit here, but the basic message remains the same. I feel drained of energy, of life, of anything that is rejuvenating. And yes, chuck in a bit of nostalgia as well, when I think about leaving school! Life’s perfect, ain’t it?

Sanity(?) Returns...

2005-02-18T19:30:00.000+05:30

Dear readers, I feel I owe all of you an apology. Apparently, my last entry disturbed quite a few of you mentally, and in the case of Karan, physically. My humblest apologies. I hope you shall accept. Here, I would like to assure you all that, in real life, I am NOT half as freaky as I sound, neither am I the “female with a mad glint in her eyes” nor am I your “friendly neighbourhood Martian”! I, hereby, deny all charges and declare myself almost sane…

I have downloaded a song by Extreme called ‘More Than Words’ and I have completely fallen in love with it. It’s apparently a rather old song, but nevertheless, a delightful new discovery for me. It’s a very soft and soothing song with a bit of percussion and vocals and that’s about it. So if you’re the kind of person who enjoys soft, un- head-banging music then I think you’ll like it. You could download it if you like.

The lyrics are really nice too:

“Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words
Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don't ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying, I love you
More than words…”

I hope you guys enjoy the song…. This entry, I hope, was nice and sane and not frightening…Till next time. Cheerio

PS: I’ve finished reading ‘Eats, Shoots and Leaves’ and, to put in like Audrey Hepburn, I “abso-blooming-lutely” loved it!

Down Memory lane...

2005-02-16T22:25:00.000+05:30

The other day, I was “studying” when, of course, my mind wandered and I started recollecting certain incidents from my childhood… Some of them were rather ludicrous, so I thought I’d pen, rather type, them down. When I was about 4 I had gone over to spend the weekend at my mom’s friend’s place. This friend has two kids, one of whom is 2 yrs older than I am. Now, one morning this 6 yr old and I decided it would be royal fun to fill up the bathtub and splash around in it in our swimsuits. One small catch; I didn’t have a swimsuit. So I, donned in a pair of bloomers and a shower cap, climbed into the tub with me friend and turned on the shower and was having a wonderful time, when suddenly, I slipped and fell down on my bum and remained in that position. I was, thus, merrily squatting in the water, when some water seeped into my bloomers making them swell up like water-filled balloons. My friend looked on in amazement and then, in a tone I’m sure Archimedes must have used when he exclaimed “Eureka!”, she said ,” wow! Now I know why they’re called bloomers! They bloom in water!!!” Another rather strange incident I remembered was about the time I was about 6 or 7…this is NOT to be taken in the wrong sense. I swear to God I was nice and innocent and NOT perverse. One afternoon, I stuffed two tennis balls up my t-shirt and yelled out in delight to my dear mother, “look mom. I’ve grown balls!” Now, we all know that that wish didn’t come true. I grew no balls nowhere. I’m as flat as flat can be…(sigh!)

Also, another bally incident would be when I stuffed one down my undies and walked around the house, and, as it would pop out from the back of my rotund backside, I would proudly declare, “ see, see, I’m making balls!” The Lord above, Save me! My world was one big, bloody ball!

My cousins claim that when I was about 9,I used to get terribly jealous when my mom paid more attention to them than to me. I, apparently, used to throw a tantrum, which, invariably, ended in me shrieking, “Nobody loves me! I have feelings too!” Jesus! What a bloody pain! I’m glad I’m not like that anymore. Not to say that I don’t not make faux pas still, but, I can confidently (?) say that they are infinitely better than the above…. Ah well, I have no clue as to why I’ve written this entry. It’s most obviously embarrassing for me, but then, I thought you guys might like a laugh… Adios!

Damn all damnation!

2005-02-16T00:27:00.000+05:30

I have yet to see a more disorganised school than ours! I mean, they leave it till the last day or week, before giving us our admit cards, to inform us that we have to pay a ‘late fee’ for some day in April this year or that someone borrowed a book on our library card and hasn’t returned and yada, yada the list goes on… and the penalty? We don’t get our admit cards or enrollment forms till we’ve given back everything. Now, my case is a wee bit different. It all began one sunny morning at the beginning of my term in Class XI, when I was a very enthusiastic student, wanting to turn over a new leaf, be a good girl (we all know that didn’t work) and basically, to take part in anything ‘constructive’. So, with fiery patriotism burning in my heart I joined the newly launched NCC in our school with great gusto. We were made to stay-back in the glaring heat and march for hours on end and were promised a ‘privilege’ to be able to participate in the March Past with the appointees of Class XII. Being a naïve XIIthee, I was yet to learn about the unlimited horrors of marching. One of the complimentary things we were given for joining the NCC was what looked like a collection of shit-coloured, coarse sacks, which later, I discovered, was actually the NCC uniform! Of course, NCC fizzled out within a week of its birth and it was almost as though it had never existed, the only souvenir left was that ‘uniform’; I tried desperately to get rid of it, I did, but all in vain. I lugged that huge, crackling plastic bag with the ‘uniform’ in it at least three times to school: each time I was told to keep it at home, “iski koi zaroorat nahi hai”, “abhi rakh le” etc. So I kept in a corner of my room and left it at that. All was back to normal, until day before yesterday…. Yes, the NCC reared its ugly head yet again.

Mrs. Jyoti Bakshi demanded the uniform back, but that posed a huge problem. You see, the catch was that my mother, overflowing with the milk of human kindness, had donated it to charity. Now what?! Anyway, it was decided that I might as well pay up the fine. Here may I mention that another girl who also had to return the uniform had turned the lovely little thing into a pochcha! At least mine was put to a better, although rather unfortunate, use! So my mother got me to chase Mrs. Bakshi up and down to figure out how much to pay. The woman kept forgetting to find out. The whole part of it that makes me angry is the laxity of the school. NCC rakha toh naam ke vaaste; then they refuse to take the uniform back (which, believe me, I had no overwhelming desire to posses!); then they were supposed to collect the uniform at the end of the session (at which time I had the damn thing with me still!)but they conveniently forgot and now, they won’t tell me how much to pay! So I rang up this Divya Sahni ma’am. She was also as vague as ever and didn’t know how much I had to pay. She said to get 1000/- and if there was any change, she’d return it. Imagine paying 1000/- for that! When I told my mom this, all hell broke loose! She grabbed the phone from me and literally blew Divya Sahni up…Cursed the administration of the school, organization, authorities, yada yadas….

Anyway, now I have no choice but to pay the bloody money! !@#$%$%^^&&*()%$##@$!!!

Now that that’s out, there’s more coming…

Valentine’s Day is the stupidest day on the calendar. They really should have warning signs put a week before that should read: “ Valentine’s day is coming. Love will be in the air. Buy your very own oxygen mask NOW! HURRY!”

But instead, they have: “Get your sweetheart a cute pink teddy this Valentine’s Day! HURRY!”

EEEEEYUCK!!! I mean c’mon. Look at the reasons for its existence:

Rationale 1: It’s the one day of the year you can express your true love for your sweetheart by giving her something he/she really wants.

Counter Rationale 1: What are the other 364 days of the year for (add a ¼ day more in a leap year). For me, it’s just another way of going kangaal

Rationale 2: It’s the only day of the year you can tell the one love just how much you love him/her

Counter Rationale 2: Again, what are the other 364 days of the year for (add a ¼ day more in a leap year). Unless your vocal chords are on holiday, there’s no reason why you can’t do it otherwise.

Rationale 3: It’s a perfect day for a proposal (romantic)

Counter Rationale 3: Why? What’s so special? Has the sky turned green? Are pigs flying? And anyway, why must everyone do it together?

And the bizarre reasons go on and on till I am compelled to steel myself to all the coochie coos and teddy bears and the pink and red hearts, and pretend that everything is hunky-dory. One thing I found rather amusing though, was that all my gay friends and girl friends decided to wish whereas the straight guys kept themselves a safe distance away from me!

Ah well, now that that wretched day has come and gone, we shall be allowed to live undisturbed for yet another year till 14^th Feb comes round again. Bah! Mush and icky slush is what it is! G’nite!

PS: I'm getting more and more annoyed. Rediffmail, for some obscure reason, seems to think i desperately need to either buy Cheap Viagra or increase my penis size. Isn't that the limit? For Chrissake, how much of a tomboy can I be?

2005-02-13T22:05:00.000+05:30

I found a pun I quite liked: " What most students dislike about school is the principal of the thing."

Blyech! Tastes like Karela...

2005-02-13T15:36:00.000+05:30

Gloom, gloom, gloom and a li’l P.E. is all that my life is about currently…Yes, I had the P.E. BOARD practical yesterday. It was scheduled to start at 8:00am and began (our school, being our school) at 10:30. But, the time was whiled away quite enjoyably with friends and an “inspiring” speech delivered most heartfelt-ly by Dr. D.R. Saini. As mentioned before, most of my class has taken P.E. as their 6^th subject, so meeting up with all my friends, after dealing with ballistic mothers, early in the morning came as a quite a refreshing change. Yes, so Dr. Saini’s speech. Well, it was supposed to instill in us great self-confidence and a desire to ‘overcome all’ and it began thus: “First of all, I would like to pray for all of you” And then he proceeded to tell us about how “your body is the temple, church, mosque, gurudwara of the living God. God is soul. Soul is immortal. Immortal is faceless. Therefore, God is faceless”(you really feel like adding a ‘hence, proved’ at the end of that, na?) There are also other interesting quotes I’ve picked up from Saini’s speeches for both our preboard and board practical: “In, P.E. when you are late, you are not late”, “P.E. is not P.E. if you don’t laugh”(this one was, of course, greeted with gales of laughter as the pent up giggles of 50 odd kids burst forth in all their gusto!) He also, for some very obscure reason, asked us, “are you all tapes (taps) or ghade (pots)?” Yet another unsolvable mystery the world shall be faced with…

The practical went off fine. Maybe that’s because I like sports and am not too bad at athletics. Some people were a little worse off though. In the long jump, there was this girl who landed smack on her bottom both the times and looked most woebegone as she sat in that bit of dug-up earth! Others were over enthusiastic and jumped about a metre before the ‘take off’ point and were disqualified and had to do it again. The second time, they were so hell bent on getting it right, that they carried on running, way beyond the ‘take off” point and forgot all abut the jumping! In the hundred-meter dash, Vrinda Marwah was most disgusted. Apparently, while she was running, she was heard to mutter, “How long is this dratted track?” She finished the dash in record time. The longest anyone has ever taken and she was greeted at the other end by the board examiner, who smiled at her and asked her “itna tez bhaagti hai! State level ke liye try kiya hai kya?” In the shuttle run, the rule says you’re supposed to touch the ground each time you complete 10 m . Right, now Mansi Khanna started running most enthusiastically, and was doing fine, till she had to touch the ground. She touched her own foot, and then stuck out her tongue and exclaimed “hai ram!”,slapped her forehead and then touched the ground! This was repeated at each end…Quite amusing, yes! Koval has this tremendous problem in running straight. She invariably runs onto her partner’s track…The shuttle run was no exception. She ran into Divya’s track, Divya fell and then Koval, (who was back on her track by then) by some miraculous domino effect, fell too!!

Thus, the practical progressed till 1:30 p.m. when we gave our viva, submitted our files and were finally allowed to leave. Tiring it was, and let me tell you, 12 noon is no time take an endurance test by making us girls run round the field for 9 minutes, when the guys get to do nice and fresh, first thing in the morning!

I came home with a throbbing head and aching muscles. I hadn’t run so much in quite a long time. Gone are the days when I practiced regularly for the athletics team. Yesterday, I got in a mere 2 ½ hours of studies, ate an early dinner and went to bed by 10….

My mother had begun to lose her sanity recently and was making my life perfectly miserable. However, yesterday, some guests came over and I got up early this morning to study and that’s put her in a better mood. It’s a relief that she’s more or less regained her good humour. Now we can hold a conversation for more than 10secs without biting each other’s heads off. I would like that to last, so I’m going now. S’long!

Oh wait, I forgot. Recently my life is described perfectly by this (DON’T LAUGH!) Vengaboys song:

“ 8 o clock, get up, get outta bed,

I feel like a truck ran over my head,

Another day of stress and sorrow.

Skip breakfast cos I gotta go,

ain’t got no time to take it slow;

And I will do my hair tomorrow (this part is the truest. I really must shampoo my hair now. It’s high time!)

And I can’t take it no more.

Is this what I’m living for??(actually yeah, if I wanna make it to Stephen’s!)”

This and that

2005-02-08T23:32:00.000+05:30

The other day, the weirdest thing happened to me. I had gone to school to give a Micro Eco test and after hunting about finally reached the allotted room 10 minutes late…. I looked at the paper and thought, “Welcome to hell” and boy, oh boy, the freakiest thing happened at that very moment… it had looked like it was gonna rain, but the moment I thought about hell, the clouds just gathered and it became pitch black outside…Night like…it was freaky…talk about omens! Neway, of course, after staying like that for about 5 minutes, the rain finally came down, in cats and dogs and a whole freaking farm! Talking about rain, the weather has been very depressing for the past few days…I’m not the kind to appreciate dark, gloomy, wet days, when all I have to do is study for my boards…See, for me the rain is a bloody pain in the posterior. I can’t study unless I have the light on…It’s freezing… I can’t go out for walks and take nice long breaks in the sun… and worst of all, my underwear doesn’t dry!! It’s been quite a droll sight lately. You walk into my room, and you’re greeted by rows of lingerie drying in front of the heater! Yus, yus, gimme bright sunshine any day!

I had a rather ridiculous conversation with Skaranses the other day. His neighbour was getting married “about 5 metres away” and he noise in his room was deafening. Net result, he couldn’t hear me too good (story of my life, or is it just another omen?) Anyway, after a while there was dead silence and not a sound was too be heard…The conversation that followed went like this:

S: Umm…hello?

K: Hehe…Did you think the line got cut?

S: what the hell happened?

K: Nothing…

S: But there’s no noise!

K: yeah

S: are you in heaven suddenly?

K: I dunno..mebbe but its good to know MTNL still works there!

S: seriously..kya hua?

K: they all died! {Evil cackle} yes, they all dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedd!!

S: shut up! Tell me na!

K: I poured cyanide over them!

S: no you didn’t …where are you?

K: I’m my room. I think something exploded in Bhopal.

S: that’s not the reason they stopped making a racket..

K: yes, it was iso-cyanide!

S: are you in a soundproof room? Do you have a sound proof room in your house?

K: of course not! I would be in there all day then…

S: why? Not to hear the phone ring, for a first? Especially when its me?

K: hmmmm you say that…yes!

S: so you in the loo?

K: Smita, do you think my loo is miraculously shut off from all earthly sounds?

S: then what????

K: Okay…How’s this? When they were playing, they were making a noise…Now that they’re not playing, they’re quiet? Did that occur to you? And does that make me a genius?

Another rather embarrassing anecdote I have to relate…the other day I was going to this high tea (!) organized by someone in honour of their newly born granddaughter… So I decided to dress up…I wore like this total black outfit with a black and silver scarf. Now, one of my friends, who came down from Australia, had given me this awesome smelling deo with aloe vera. I decided to inaugurate it that day, by using it! So I liberally sprayed it on my clothes…now, BIG MISTAKE!!! I had somehow managed to miss the ‘anti-perspirant’ sign on the bottle…uff! So I basically had this white circle boldly outlined between my mammary glands, or should we just say lack of them?! Whatever the case, it wasn’t a very comfortable position, especially when I realized it a good 2 hours after coming home! Geez, I hope nobody noticed out there! It was a very la-de-da affair with all these grand old ladies cooing over the kid!

Now, I must go…tomorrow is my board prac for psychology. Buh bye..

As the dark clouds gather...

2005-02-04T22:10:00.000+05:30

Dear, dear! A mere four weeks left till we enter Dooms Ville. Not a particularly pleasant thought, is it? But, I, nevertheless, have been having quite a good time. Let’s see now, after ze farewell, I had this whole bunch of birthdays to cater to, which obviously meant attending a whole bunch of parties. First on 31^st Jan was Rhythma Kaul’s bday, closely followed by Bhavna on the 1^st of Feb. Bhavna took us to Aka Saka for lunch. I never ever will tire of that place. The food is sooooooooooo good. Yesterday was Koval’s birthday. Dear Kaaaaaayyyy turned 18. Awww… look who’s all gwonup!! Ickles Koval’s a big girl now eh? Yesterday, I had to go to school for Psychology class and History moans… Amazingly enough, every teacher, apart from Good ol’ Mrs. Raghavan, seems to be terrified of sending 12 R to face the boards…Hmmmm, I wonder why. We aren’t ALL that dumb. Ah well, Aditi Agarwal (psych) and Archana Pental perpetually secrete liquid from their eyes these days if you mention “12R and boards” in one breath! Geez, they’re getting paranoid…But I guess you guys have kinda gotten the point, so I shall proceed1 Hmm, psychology class was good, but History class (ahem) was not quite as satisfactory. First of all, after we find a place to settle down in, we must always indulge in the ritual of paying obeisance to Padma by patiently listening to her groan and moan about how every part of her body is hurting to the extent of it being ready to fall off. Now, for the first few times, I used to feel bad for the woman, but now, it’s more of habit than anything else, devoid of all emotions whatsoever. Then we proceeded to open up our books and start studying (?), when Vrinda Marwah showed up and put an end to all such notions, and before we knew it, we were in gales of laughter, while quoting from the NCERT (which is possibly, the worst written history book ever!) For instance, it has things like VD Savarkar was one of the rare revolutionaries who braved the waves of the ocean for his motherland, which actually is implying to the fact of how he was captured and taken aboard a ship, from where he escaped, jumped into the sea and apparently swam furiously in the opposite direction towards France in the (errrr) service of his motherland! Mind you, the dude was recaptured from there and brought back to India…Uff!!! And not to mention a lovely little bit in our history handout which proudly declares, “Sir Charles Napier was awarded 70,000 pounds of booty!” Yes well, history is a rather amusing subject, what with little old bald men running around picking up handfuls of salt, champion swimmers who swim in the opposite direction, funny men who run away to foreign countries and decide to establish Indian National Armies there and strange French Residents called Bussy! But, I still adore it, so there! Some considerable time was also wasted on discussing certain bovine creatures who che cud all day and refuse to sign very important forms because a margin might not be straight by about 2°. This discussion took place, of course, courtesy a spluttering and fuming Vrinda who had been gracefully shunned by MS! Achcha, anyway, after this history class, Vrinda, Manav and I were picked up from school by Koval and Zafar and we went to Flavours and ate a gorgeous lunch. Oh, Anglie came too. Flavours serves like the bestest pasta I have ever tasted… Manav hogged from everyone’s plates including his own and at the end of a maha gorging session, sighed wistfully and declared that he was hungry. Koval’s parents then dropped Manav and me back to my place. And Manav’s mom and sister came to pick him up at about. The two hours that elapsed in between were so horrifying that I’d prefer not to relive them. After his, I went out for dinner. We were giving Kamava Bopana a surprise birthday party. It was somewhat enjoyable. Then I finally came home and crashed at about 1:00 am. I went to Bahri and Sons the other day and blew up half of my book coupons. I bought ‘Jude the Obscure’ and ‘Eats, shoots and leaves’. The latter is a delightful book which is quite unputdownable. However, it makes me feel really bad for the apostrophe…

Now I have decided that I have to go and study, so see y’all!

A Final Buh-bye

2005-01-29T01:12:00.000+05:30

Well, well…After months of planning, for both 11thees (both genders) and 12thee (females), the farewell is finally over. The farewell, to put it in a nutshell, was a gala photo taking session. And if you weren’t constructively engaged in taking photos, then woe betide you, as you were expected to socialize. If anyone of you as read Skaranses entry on paanch lakh ki dresses, I shall inform you, that there was many a female who was dressed in that and even worse. The only good part was that they had good figures and therefore, didn’t look quite as horrendous. Not quite as many halter necks and backlesses as I had expected and, all in all, the crowd looked quite nice and respectable (except for a few random ones who decided that wearing pom-poms and feathers on saarees was a brilliant idea!) I, for one, had a really good time. The 11thees tried to organize some vague sort of performance for us, which we never got to see cos the 11thees themselves were in the way and didn’t give us any room. But one of the highlights of the entire farewell would definitely be me carrying out a rather horrible threat on Bhavya. You see, it began two days ago, when I was chatting with Bhavya and I insisted that I would hug him on the farewell day and he would graciously accept. This however, was a terrifying prospect for Bhavya. Today, though, PC came up to me and told me that he would corner Bhavya and that I could do as I had proposed. Damini on the other hand, decided that it would be much better if I just suddenly turned around and gave him a squeeze. I followed neither way though. I simply saw Bhavya, who was frantically trying to avoid me, made a beeline for him, grabbed hold of his collar and gave him the hugest and tightest hug I could…it was rather tough, you know… it reminded me somewhat of a boa constrictor’s squeeze. First there was a lot of flailing of hands and legs and desperate attempts to escape, soon however as the snake grimly held on, the victim succumbed and stood rigidly praying that he would survive to see another day! Yay, yay! I feel quite proud of myself!! As for the rest of evening, it was whiled away in hanging around and eating cold chole bhature!

After the farewell, I went out with some friends to Pizza Hut and had a good time there and then, I finally went home. Only to go out again, to meet up with Anant, Puja, Vrinda, Priyanka, Zafar, Shiva, Tushar, Raman and Nazneen at Imperial Garden where they were dining. I didn’t eat anything though, being stuffed with 3 kinds of pizza. This was followed by some of us going to Café Coffee Day where, shame though it was, we had to actually waste some food. Had brilliant fun what with Shiva’s and Vrinda’s drivers mysteriously disappearing and an overload of people in Zafar’s car which made me literally grovel on my knees on the car’s floor, while 3 large posteriors, belonging to Tushar, Vrinda and Anant, were comfortably placed on the seat and Zafar enjoyed the luxury of sitting in front! It’s amazing, when you’re with friends the decibel level just starts escalating and when there’s a pause in the conversation, you realize how peaceful the world actually is! Zafar was still dressed in the shaadi wale clothes and so, decided to look a little normal by shedding the outer layers of his sherwani. Well, that didn’t work out too good for him because, he started feeling cold and had to borrow Anant’s jacket which made him look like an Al-Qaeda terrorist, considering his sherwani was white and the jacket was black! All that was missing was a wad of notes in one hand and a gun in another! Zafar’s car had a rather strange door whose window was stuck (down that is) and door could only be opened from the outside! Hehe…. that was one of the upsides of sitting on the floor of the car; I was cosy and didn’t feel the cold draught of wind that was constantly blowing through the window while Nazneen , poor thing, got it full blast!

Ah well, that’s all I have to say for now. Karan’s been a perfect sweetheart and reburned my cds for me…I’m listening to Bitter Sweet Symphony just now, and its reminding me terribly of MUNA, cos all the time we were working in the egurucool, exun members insisted on playing this tune as it was their title track for some event…Sigh… I’m gonna miss school soooooo much…

Doink!

2005-01-26T01:20:00.001+05:30

Heylo peoples… I have just realized that I am quite a dunce (which is also not a great sign, cos enlightenment has come rather late in the day!) today, I decided to call up Skaranses, since I was in the mood to be snubbed, and I also needed to ask him to do me a favour…Neway, coming to the point, I called up his place about 3 times and got to know that he was out practicalling…therefore, I decided to call him on his cell…which I did. Now here’s the part where I look like a goof. Skaranses had just finished his practical and was trying to get an auto, so he talks to me for all of 2 minutes and then asks me whether I’d hold and then without waiting for a reply, he proceeds to continue his transactions with the auto guy (or whoever). Achcha, then he comes back on and goes “Hello, you still exist?” Ah well, I hadn’t yet asked him for the favour, so I couldn’t particularly hang up. So I just carry on talking to him…now, after I’ve finally gotten to the point and asked him what I had to, he says, “ I can’t hear you at all. There’s a bus here.” Now, that should have been clue enough for me to hang up, but do I? No, of course not! I say, “never mind, wait for the bus to go, I need to babble !” and then Skaranses, who’s absolutely desperate by now, goes “you know, technically this is what you call babbling. I can’t hear a word and you must talk incessantly!” so I hang up, but that too I didn’t do peacefully, much to his regret! I actually made him promise to call me. The promise, obviously, was broken, but even that didn’t offend me. I called him up in the evening only to hear the following, “hello, I can’t talk, I’m going out, buh bye!” that was when it dawned on me that I am the stupidest girl that has ever lived!

As to the rest of my life… it isn’t going too bad. I went and saw National Treasure with Zafar after my psychology prac yesterday. It was kinda cool… see it if you can. Zafar’s bash on the 30^th has been cancelled, thanks to Mrs C. and other elements! Geez, I was really looking forward to it. Ah well, it seems as if 2 hours of “goodbye fun” is all we’re deemed to have. From 2:15 to 4:15 (weird timings) on Friday, is all the time we’re going to have to show off our sarees and yada yadas, take pictures, relive fond memories one last time and finally let go. After which it’s going to be an uphill road right till beginning April, at least for us humanitarians. Of course, admission to this (ahem) Send Off Party (as it says in that dratted slip!) also requires a signed permission note from our parents. So those who haven’t gotten theirs signed, do it now!

Now, Zafar and I had a rather interesting conversation as we were walking down towards Priya (we got into an auto halfway thru!) It was regarding brats and Gandhiji. Have you guys noticed how absolutely annoying the juniors are? Especially the 7thees and 6thees. Regular imps they are. Deserve to be slapped and sent to bed without supper! And they seem to be getting more and more irritating with every new batch! I mean, I don’t remember being so obnoxious when I was in 6^th. I distinctly remember being quite scared and in awe of my seniors… these kids are tremendously spoilt squirts (with exceptions, of course). I can quite proudly proclaim that I have dealt out a much-deserved slap more than once. Now when I mentioned this to Zafar, we started this whole rigmarole about corporal punishment and whether it should be used in school or not. I was reminded of ‘gandhiji as a schoolteacher’ and reminded him how the dear old man was opposed to it. His opinion was that Gandhi’s ideals just don’t apply to today’s day and age, and I would be wont to agree. And then, we proceeded to figure out whether he was a boon or not to our country. I was, then, strongly reminded of Manav vehemently declaring in history class that “Old Gandhi was a git of the first order.” Zafar and I, though, reached a rather neutral and boring conclusion and decided that listening to music was a much better idea!

Rightio, I have my PE prac on Thursday. Should be fun. Almost our entire class has taken PE as their 6^th subject. It’s kinda funny the way no one showed up for the theory (70 marks) and everyone’s coming for the pracs (30 marks), which basically means that we’ll all fail PE! How jolly! This completely supports Padma Srinivasan’s statement about our class, when she had declared that taking only a 6^th subject would not be enough and that we should take at least 4 more subjects, cos we apparently, have a tendency to fail majority of the exams we give…how sweet!

Chalo then, I’m off to bed now. G’nite!

Anonymice and other irritants

2005-01-21T14:17:00.000+05:30

So heya. My damned hard drive has FINALLY been fixed today…and I unfortunately happen to be in quite a grumpy mood, which is not a particularly good thing considering I got over my pre-boards yesterday and that Tara’s over for a night spend…. Who, you might ask, is Tara? Well, she is yet another one of many bespectacled friends (all right, ‘witch’, Manu Bhaiyya, if you insist!) who also happens to be a geek of the first order whose percentage never goes below a dratted 90!! But never mind, enough about Tara….

I shall now proceed to tell you why I’m annoyed, which is also not one of the most exciting thing to read about, but I’m not giving you guys much of a choice!

First, one of the MOST irritating things in this world, is something only bloggers will understand…yes, I am talking about the dreaded Anonymice! These horrid little creatures decide to visit a blog and leave dirty little trails behind, defiling the entire blog specially when they curse and abuse and are too chicken too leave their name…

Anonymous said...

“bhanchod tu yeh kya bakwaas likata rehta hai
tu usi randi aparna ke school ka hai jise meine lund chuswaya tha..
salle agar karne hai aacha kam kar...yeh blogger banene ki koshish mat kar
dps ke randwe tujhe tere school ke bahar aa kar hi marunga ..
u shld study not blog”

Uff! And then one can’t even block anonymous comments cos the nice anonymice who actually leave their name behind won’t be able to comment….Damn damn damn!

The second irritant is John Abraham as a ruddy goonda in a film…Don’t ask me what possessed me to go and watch a movie like ‘Elaan’ with my friends yesterday, but there it is, I did it! The only brilliant part of the film was that we arrived at least 45 minutes late, and then, stepping on many an indignant old ladies toes (who, by the way, were gushing over good ol’ Mithun Chakravorty) we finally settled down… Only to pass really loud comments and shriek with laughter every time John Abraham would, in a fit of rage, tear at his bandana and let out a Tarzan-like yell, “YAAAAAAAHHHHH!!” One step further, was Chunky Pandey, whose role basically consisted of sitting in a jeep, wearing dark glasses, holding a toy gun and screeching at the top of his voice, “Maaro Saalon ko! Ek ko bhi mat chodna!” But, the best part was definitely when Arjun Rampal, after being hit thrice by bullets and driving a car very smoothly for a good 20 minutes on the road, finally kicked the bucket…. Oh geez! 7 of us, sitting in the middle of the half-empty hall, burst into guffaws like a pack of laughing hyenas, causing a whole shower of popcorn to descend upon us from the back row and a horrid bhaiyya sitting in front of us to turn around, point his finger most threateningly at us, and say, “Just Shut up! Varna!” Apparently, we had ruined the most heart wrenching and sentimental part of the film…
An old aunty sitting next to me kept telling me to tell my friends to shut up and then, proceeding to talk to her son-in-law at the top of her voice on her mobile…

Appointee photos were taken yesterday, which basically meant tumbling over one another to try and get at least a part of your face into the snap…I thoroughly annoyed Bhavya by ruffling the fuzz on his head and he apparently told Manav that I was intolerable most of the time…. I’m guessing most of you would be wont to agree, eh?

Achcha, now another annoying thing is that girls these days cannot stop discussing what they are wearing for the farewell, actually most of them just want to discuss the prices….it gets on my nerves! “Pata hai, main na designer waali saaree pehen rahi hoon. Pure 15,000 ki li hai!” Khush raho yaar, sirf mujhe mat batao….

Anyway, now that I have suitably bored the lot of you, I shall sign off….. Sayonara! Oh and best of luck for the pre board results (I have a feeling that most of us are gonna need it baaaaaaad!)

Eccentric Aunts and Enjoyable Eves!

2005-01-03T16:22:00.000+05:30

Heya folks! I’m so vella, it’s not funny! I really think I’m going to flunk my preboards this time… but I’m so sick of darned exams that I couldn’t give a “tinker’s inkling”! Anyway, today I shall blog about totally insignificant things…

1^st about the economics Olympiad I went for…. Before I begin, Bhavya, please forgive me, I know not what I do… yes well, we i.e Manav, Bhavya and me reached the centre 10 minutes late…. courtesy me…we were pooling and I arrived late at Manav’s place. I’m a bad girl, I am! After the exam, Koval and I went to Janpath (don’t gasp with horror. As Manav says, she isn’t that bad…) and hung out and had khana at a place called Sarvanna Bhavan…yumm southee food….I had a real fun time….

2^nd, I had a mad aunt over to stay. She’s my mother’s sister. Anyone who is acquainted with my mother will know what I mean. I shall now proceed to relate a rather ludicrous incident that took place while she was here. Now her TV remote at home and our TV remote, as is obvious, differ. So I very patiently, sat down and explained to my dear aunt as to which buttons were for the volume and which for the channels. So my aunt very merrily, sat down to enjoy a nice evening of lazing around and watching TV. She switches on the TV and proceeds to flip through the channels… all was well, till she decided to adjust the volume. Instead of lowering it, she increased it and then getting thoroughly paranoid by the din, got completely muddled up and kept on pressing the wrong buttons. I told her to change the channel, and she wailed out that that was precisely what she was trying to do. What she was actually doing was increasing the volume, frantically! The net result? The whole neighbourhood heard Olive shrilly and profusely confess her love for Popeye! Finally, in exasperation, I got up and restored peace and quiet yet again.

3^rd I had great fun on New Year’s Eve at DLF.. I partied with cousins and friends till 5 am…more like I djed the night through and had a blast mixing music!

Anyway, I must pass my pre boards now. So Adieu and have a bloody Lucky and eventful year ahead!

2004-12-29T01:56:00.000+05:30

I’m supposed to be studying. For my pre boards and Olympiad and so on and so forth. I’m not though. As is obvious I’m posting. I have nothing much to write about, so I fished out something I wrote a while back and I would like to hear what you guys thought of it. Even if you think it’s tosh and nonsense, say so. Anyway (inhale), here goes…

When you’re especially weary, your tired body trudging down a busy road in the heart of the city,

And all you want to do is to rest your aching body and shut out the raucous sounds of the human world…

There is a sudden lull in the traffic and all you hear are the sounds of the breeze and the crickets in the fading twilight,

Till a vehicle zooms past, shattering the calm; starting yet another stream of continuous bustle…

I’m thankful for such moments of silence.

When you’re humiliated and hurt by someone’s jeers and you want to hide away in shame,

And the piece of glass in your cheap brass ring happens to catch the light, making it sparkle like a diamond;

The sight of which transports you to a world of fantasy.

I’m thankful for such hopes.

When you’re lying on the grass on a hillside with a friend, staring at cloud shapes…

There is so much you can see that your friend can’t.

I’m thankful for such secrets.

When you’re all alone and in a pensive mood,

You don’t bother to turn on the light as night falls…

You sit in the darkness for hours enveloped in your own thoughts…

I’m thankful for such solitude.

When you spend an evening with friends;

Talking about nothing, grinning like idiots, giggling uncontrollably, convulsed with laughter.

I’m thankful for such fits of gaiety.

When you’ve had a fight and a friend happens to call,

You scream at him and blame him for everything that’s wrong,

Knowing he won’t mind…

Knowing there’s someone out there you can fall back on…

I’m thankful for such friendships

Some might think I’m weird but, reflect upon it…

Sometimes the most bizarre things help us make it through…

Yeah, yeah…I did write that. So go ahead and tell me what you thought of it. Even you lazy ones, start commenting. NOW!

See y’all!

An Ode to Alma Mater

2004-12-26T13:46:00.000+05:30

After two hectic days of Christmas partying, the blues have finally set in. I talk not of the dreaded pre-boards, nor of the dull, foggy weather, but as most other students, I talk of leaving school. 23^rd December was officially our last working day. Photos, food and making memories was what it was all about. We started with the exam (which was crappy) to be followed by class photographs (where XII-R, out of sheer nostalgia, broke into our assembly song, “Follow me”) and then our last ever Special (!) Assembly. This was by far one of the best assemblies I have been part of, what with an impromptu choir being put together to sing “Lakshya”(which, of course, we sang completely out of key), Vrinda’s speech (which didn’t progress much beyond “Good morning”), Prateek’s speech (which consisted of 3 words- Best of luck) and Mrs. C’s enthusiastic smile as she paraded up and down the stage throughout the assembly. We were then let into the football field (or golf greens!) like a herd of wild buffaloes, where we basically ate good food and clicked millions of photographs. Even after my Dad signed me out and I walked out of the school gate that misty afternoon, the feeling of bidding adieu to my alma mater still hadn’t sunk in.

It’s going to take a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that I shall no longer be getting up at 6:00 to catch that cursed bus (especially on those awful Monday mornings) or that I shall no longer hang around at the canteen in the break catching hold of random people and demanding money. There is so much I owe to my school. Most of all, I owe my thanks. Thanks for a wonderful 14 years; I’ve had my fair share of the downs, but they didn’t take away from the wonderfulness of it all. Thanks for my friends; some are old, some are new discoveries, but all of them have their quirks that make them so special. Thanks for a faculty, which, I must admit, got on my nerves most of the time, but all in all, were a brilliant lot who always managed to finish the course on time. And of course, thanks for the millions of competitions, that gave me sanction to “legally” bunk so many classes.

I shall never actually let go of school. It’s like a beautiful chapter which is drawing to a close, but shall always be there to open up again for future references. My experiences at school have given me all I need to face the world. Wheedling teachers for a mark or two more has taught me diplomacy, apologising to my friends has taught me humbleness, backing up a classmate has taught me teamwork, passing Monday tests have taught me to have faith in and trust others, winning competitions has taught me smugness, bunking classes has taught me caution and being a student has shown me what it is to love and to be loved. Saying goodbye is always tough. I shall therefore, use Manav’s catch phrase and say, “ Let’s hope we keep meeting Hagain Dhalinghe!”

Hmph!

2004-12-21T20:23:00.000+05:30

Greetings! Hard drive crashed! Hmph! Had to delete my last entry….no fair man! It was the only entry with decent number of comments….. It completely DISGUSTS me though, that people visited my blog only cos the unmentionable was mentioned…. and also that some people have absolutely no life and insist on spending every free moment they have in sticking their abnormally large noses into things that are totally not their business….I mean gossip, gossip, gossip! Get over it, featherheads!

Test series week…almost as bad as exam week…. attempt to study, groan, attempt to study, whine, attempt to study, fail…sad! Had a very, very, very horrible pol science paper (mainly cos my book was new and nothing was marked in it, some bugger in class stole my old one)…that was my bible, it was…had a very, very horrible history paper with 2 blank maps and leaving 10 marks worth the paper in theory…all in all, 20 marks left! SIGH! Psychology was thankfully not as disastrous.

Meanwhile, slam sheets are being distributed by the million in our school…some nuts don’t even give their darned papers…they just come to school to give their friends their slam sheets! Geez! I have been going to school at normal timings and have had to suffer at the hands of the most insufferable people in the world who come to school and yell their heads off in class and don’t let others study and when I yell at them to shut up , they whine about not getting their damned slam sheets back! Uff! Anyway, am I sounding like a whiny old lady? Actually, don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical….

Me’s all sad and depressed as my wonderful school years come to a close. Why, oh why must they ruin our last week with tests? Darn! But me feels terrible for Mrs C. it’s NOT her fault…

MUN over…. Centuries back!! Had tremendous fun and have since then have been officially recognised as ‘ze mad woman’ by Skaranses… apparently, I was the laughing stock, courtesy my exotic wardrobe that made me look like an air stewardess the first day (fine, say airhostess if you must. I think air stewardess is cooler!), an escaped convict the second day and thanks to my open hair, a hag on the third day( allright, chudail if you must!) I have many hilarious anecdotes to relate from inviting the delegates to speak on the podium and then dispatching a few hundred messengers to hunt for the vanished podium while the poor delegate looked most nonplussed to Anuva’s spoonerisms telling the ‘Gelegates to kindly approach the Tair’ (which is as bad as ‘hissing your mystery test’!) and furiously bidding for the most unhot guys in the WHO committee room during the lunch break! I shall however, refrain from relating these anecdotes to you as it is a very tedious task and also, the fear of boring y’all stops me. Hehe!

Christmas is almost here…have started listening to people sing about partridges, pear trees, white Christmases, sleigh bells and the works! It also means more presents. Yay!

My mother has already started fussing about what I should wear for the farewell. It doesn’t interest me much and, in the immortal words of Mrs. Raghavan (who is currently getting her whole family married off), “I couldn’t be bothered!” However, my mother has remained undaunted and has presented me with 9 odd sarees to choose from! Help me! SOS! Till next time, ciao…

Woe is me!

2004-11-28T16:23:00.000+05:30

Hello readers! I have suddenly discovered that updating a blog is one of the most tedious activities one can undertake. It’s not that I don’t that I don’t have ideas but penning them down is an entirely different matter. I am, by far one of the most talkative people this world has seen, and that is where the problem lies. I can talk, not write. I also think Karan’s theory partially explains my ad hoc entries. He claims blog readers are lazy people and I, essentially, am an ardent reader.

Anyway, enough of that tosh. I am in trouble. The usual. Talking on the phone for too long, not attempting to complete my history course. Mom hopping mad, screaming away at me, me (apparently) answering back. Mom coming into the room, giving me 2 tight slaps across either cheek and grounding me for the rest of the weekend. Thankfully, that happened yesterday and I had already managed to enjoy 2 days out of my 3-day long weekend. It’s a blessing in disguise actually. I am not disturbed by phone calls and I get to study peacefully throughout the day. The only downside is that I can’t go to see a really good play the Prithvi Theatre Festival and miss out on having dinner with my cousin whose birthday it is.

For anyone who might be interested in plays, the Prithvi Theatre festival was glorious. I saw tons of plays for free cos my cousin works with Prithvi and my uncle’s directed the plays. Wheeeeeee!!

I recently downloaded a “thingamajig” (hehe) called Imesh. Its something like Ares (I humbly apologise Karan, you were right about the pronunciation) but doesn’t work half as well. In short, it sucks! Shoot!

I have been wanting to see Mughal-e-Azam, and when Manav invited (?) me to come along I was delighted. But my darned mother ruined everything and now I obviously can’t go. Damn,damn,damn!

MUN’s next week. What a drag! I have nothing to wear, yet again, and shall not, as per the wishes of a few idiots, go nude. Not that it’s saying much, there’s nothing much to see! I tell you these MUN thingies are a pain. I now fully comprehend what Karan and Bhavya meant when they said that MUNs are a waste of time.

I don’t get what kicks people get out of being mentioned in blogs. I’ve catered to Skaranses wishes and given him a whole damn entry, only to be sought out by Manav who wanted the same. Unfortunately, for him, he didn’t get a whole entry, but he’s got more than enough mentions in my blog. Now, apparently, its Shantanu’s turn. The dude is thoroughly disgusted by the fact that I haven’t mentioned him enough. So I hope to goodness he reads this entry. Shantanu, my love, my heart beats solely for thee. Get Anisha out of the picture!

Ok now, I have to go and study before my mother beheads me. S’long folks! Till next time!

PS- Skarans has burnt 2 cds full of really good music for me…yipppppppppeeeee!!!! And for the love of God, comment you nuts, lazy or not, I don’t care!

We meet again Darling, eh?( have u seen the ad???)

2004-11-19T22:38:00.000+05:30

I’m back! My phone was dead like for the longest time and has just gotten ok. Of course, the fact that I’m writing this entry also has a lot to do with the fact that Bhavya threatened to take me off his blog roll unless I updated. So well, here I am! My dad has this annoying habit of leaving things for the last moment, and that’s exactly what he did with the phone bill. So the damned thing got disconnected and then, the darned exchange went on a weeklong holiday for diwali, id and so on and so forth. Geez, this is what happens to procrastinators! Anyway, now that I’m back I may as well blatantly boast about the fact that I won best delegate for MUNA. I’m now vice chairing for DPSMUN. Sigh!

Talking about blatant boasting, Mrs. Raghavan made a blunder in our class the other day. We were doing the chapter ‘On Conduct in Company’ and she said that someone from her previous batch had said she belonged to one of the categories of people who always talk about themselves. Now this is perfectly true cos most of her sentences start with ‘Miss Sehgal and I feel….’. so the moment we reached that bit of the chapter, Manav, Koval Vrinda and megot on her case big time and told her that she belonged to all 4 categories of people who couldn’t stop talking about themselves. Koval even went as far as to say, ”if Miss Sehgal and you were a single entity then you would be the kind who shamelessly talk about yourselves!”

Speaking of Koval, she just cant stop gushing about Maanick these days and spends every minute of her free time with him. Poor Maanick, being the nice boy he is, is stuck with the psychopath and has not an inkling about what to do next! Manav is having a French girl called Virginie to stay with him over the weekend. Virginie! Hah! That’s a laugh!

We had our last Children’s Day Carnival. For details check out someone else’s blog! I managed to piss off a girl called Vidushi, who was a friend of Bhavya, PC and Manav. I have no clue as to what I did!

Today, we were called for a special assembly in the 3^rd period. I was dragged out of eco class by a particularly hassled Ahona who was trying to cook up some last minute song to sing at the beginning of the silly assembly. So 4 of us were pushed onto stage, with bemused expressions on our faces, cos we had no idea what the assembly was about. We sang some redundant shlok and got over with it. Mrs. Aibara, of course, was looking as though the whole assembly was of great importance. Finally ol’ Chona walks onto stage and parades up and down and proceeded to give us a long discourse about how we had the most reprehensible moral standards and how slovenly we were dressed. The net result was that the whole 12^th batch dispersed in perfect silence in a single line and we had teachers on the rounds the whole day checking uniform defaulters! Good Morning, Mrs. Chona! Miss Sehgal was apparently seen to be roaming around with a pair of scissors to unhem too-short skirts and was randomly tweaking years. I was assaulted by Goswami and was all buttoned up.

Music has relapsed into dormancy. Tomorrow I’m going to school from 11 to 5 to practice for MUN. That Vrinda is a Slave Driver! Another perfectly good weekend ruined! And to top it, I’ve got an eco MT waiting for me. I don’t know what came over me, but I promised Anita Singhal that I’d give her a 35 up in this test. And I’ve missed all the classes for those chapters…..Mad I am!

Neway, hopefully Bhavya shall keep me on his blog roll now. Cheers!

On Pujas and Prejudices!

2004-10-25T17:28:00.000+05:30

A thousand apologies, folks! My phone line’s dead and I’m down with a sore throat, a blocked nose and fever. I feel miserable….Bhavya and Vrinda, Congrats you guys! A job well done! Keep up the good work! I had another hectic week, but I shall not elucidate on that as much as I did on my previous week because I’ve had quite a few people grumbling about the kahaanis I write. And as Koval puts it, “Smita, there is something called ‘economy’, you know” I’ve had a really looooong weekend what with 4 days off for Dusshera and me bunking school today.Hey, y‘know, this is the first MT I’ve ever bunked and I fell quite triumphant about it. Don’t ask me why. Probably cos it’s a history Monday Test and I am currently waging a Cold War with good ol’ Padma. I’m absolutely drowning in MUN work. We submitted in our resolutions and research papers. They look really nice, all laminated and stuff! We even got an Exun member to design the cover for our research paper and got it printed out on Photo paper! Beeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaautiful!!The Exun member, by the way, is a really sweet girl called Ishita (know her, Karan?) Anyway, many thanks, Ishita! Your help was greatly appreciated by the delegation of Italy. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m having a total blast with my delegation. They’re a nice, droll lot of 11thees (a very rare find, considering this year’s 11thee batch think no end of themselves). We frequently have tremendous laughing fits. No wonder at that, considering we have people like Kartik Pental who solemnly look at Vasudha and declare that her head is a vibrator!On Thursday, Manav’s mom took Manav and me out to see Bride and Prejudice and then later for Chinese lunch! May I take the liberty to mention here that I think Manav’s mom is an absolute sweetheart and doesn’t deserve a lifelong punishment like Manav for her son! Bride and Prejudice is, by the way, the worst possible Gurinder Chadha could have come up with. All I could think about during the movie were the decreasing air charges! Aishwariya Rai I cannot stand. She’s so Barbie- dollish. I wish Manav would do to her what he did to other Barbie dolls in his backyard!The Durga Pujas have come and gone. For those people who have never experienced this exotic festival before, let me enlighten you folks. It is so not about Pujas and aarti and the rest of the religious stuff. It’s more about creativity, beauty and streets lined with yummmmmmmm food. Let me describe to you a typical evening for a Bengali on a Puja night. Oh, did I mention that you have to wear something new everyday? So this is basically the time for us Bongs to get a whole lot of new clothes. Anyway, donned in their best, a large congregation of Bongs (friends and family, stretching upto 3rd and 4th cousins!) set out and hit the streets at about 7:00 pm. After pandal hopping for about and hour or so they shall comfortably seat their, usually oversized, posteriors on the many chairs that are scattered all around the pandal. For people who are all arty and stuff, the pandals are a feast for the eyes because each designer goes out of his way to outdo the others. For those who aren’t so taken in by all the beauty stuff, there are stalls all around with the usual carnival games and oh, not to forget the food stalls! There are literally millions of them, with different cuisines, satisfying all kinds of palates. For the kiddies, there are usually Ferris Wheels and other rides. And to top it all, there are usually abysmal performances by upcoming Bengali artistes. It’s great fun to listen to them and laugh your ass off! Oh yeah, and the beats of the dhaak players are absolutely enchanting.I guess, all this sounds kind of dull to you guys, but you really have to experience it to know what it’s all about. On that rather abrupt note, I’ll wrap up for today! Au revoir peoples!

Voices All Around

2004-10-18T23:58:00.000+05:30

Today was VOICES 2004 Choreography Fest. I, unfortunately, was one of the organising committee. Hell, oh hell! What a fiasco! First of all, there was no frikking age limit which resulted in kids of all shapes and sizes landing up dressed in their bizarre best. We also had some strange schools who hadn’t changed or gotten their makeup done or anything and had to be bundled into the music basement (which had something in there which made your eyes sting) Mrs. Raghavan had assured us that not more than 25 schools would be coming and by 9:00 am we had about 32 schools registered! Anyway, trying to make the best of the situation, we did everything possible to make sure that everyone looked as strange as they were supposed to before going on to stage. I was essentially on backstage duty, with the simple task of making sure that the teams entered in an organised manner from the green room to the stage. Of course, that was not to be. We had about 7-8 people who were absent and had to substituted and about 15-16 odd girls who were ‘helping around’ (which basically includes greeting their friends from other schools and then proceeding to let out the most unearthly shrieks!) Ah well, so I ran about escorting the participants from the E block to the music basement, from the E block to the AVH, from the E block to the various loos and from the music basement to the AVH while our dear escorts caught up on other more ‘important things’.

Switch focus to music basement. A tremendously overwrought Smita arrives there to be greeted by complete chaos. Schools standing around aimlessly not knowing what to do with unwanted dipsites hanging about asking silly questions like “has the bell rung?” Well well, so Smita tried to bring some semblance of order to the mess. After shooing out some teachers and students she finally got the music basement relatively empty, where she shoved 2 teams into 1 room. This was decidedly not easy, and was made even tougher because a group of idiotic dipsites simply refused to stop practising their stupid garba dance for some competition which was light years away.

Then, Smita was informed that 3 of the schools that had registered had amazingly enough disappeared into thin air. So she dispatches a few volunteers to hunt for them. Meanwhile the judges are arriving and there are no people to escort them. So Smita to the rescue yet again! Oh by the way, its not like I did all the work, I’m only relating what I went through. Yes, so after escorting the judges to the AVH, I went back to the music basement to escort the teams to the AVH. Had to deal with a few catty shreeramiites. Annoying they were! It was 9:00. The competition was due to start any moment but when I enquired as to whether the schools were ready to be escorted to the AVH, I was casually informed that they would need ½ an hour more! I almost threw a fit. Keeping my cool, I told them in the politest way possible to hurry the f*** up!

When I arrived with AVH with a long line of kiddies in tow, I was asked to seat them according to their numbers. When I asked for help from Anant, I was told that if I was inefficient it was my bloody problem. And Anant proceeded to continue his interrupted wooing session!

Finally the damn thing got off to a start and I helped out backstage. The topics were exceedingly boring having things like women’s empowerment and environmental degradation and the like. Shree Ram did a strange dance with girls dressed in skimpy clothes dancing around walking sticks with a sardarji popping into it in the middle of it all and furiously making out with the lead dancer! This was apparently women’s empowerment. Some people just vaguely kicked around on stage and claimed that their dance was socially relevant! There was this really sweet dance by kiddies from class 5-7 which had a song with lyrics going “I do everything for my Mama and Papa cos they do so much for me!” Awww…..

Then I was also helping steadying the influx of humanity gathered outside the AVH who were determined to break in! We had about 3 teams with 17 students each waiting to get a seat in the AVH! Well, I turned porter and carried a number of plastic chairs on my head and got these people to lower their posteriors onto them. Then while standing at the door, Arjun and I had to handle this Mass Urination Movement where about 12 kiddies wanted to attend to the call of nature all at once in the middle of the show. All I can say is that they have highly coordinated urinary bladders! I was also desperately trying to shake off a bunch of vella 12thees who wanted me to give them duty. Why oh why, would anyone in their right mind voluntarily ask for duty?

Well, the darned thing finally gave over at about 2:00 pm. Of course there were little hitches about certificates and teams vanishing, but all that was smoothed out. DPS Rohini bagged 1^st position, DPS RKP 2^nd and DPS East Delhi 3^rd.

Is it a wonder that when the one of the judges said that the whole thing was very efficiently managed and that it was lovely to see suuuuuuuch a huge number of schools participating, I could have willingly strangled her?

A Boy Named Karan

2004-10-18T23:56:00.000+05:30

Karan is the little boy who heads the Exun Clan

Karan is the boy who calls me ‘cupcake’ and then proceeds to be abominably rude to me.

Karan is the boy you should never ever call up before the physics exam

Karan is the boy who calls up only to hang up after precisely 5 minutes.

Karan is the boy who, very subtly and sensibly avoids bugging, buzzing insects like me.

Karan is the boy who has this exasperating habit of saying “you little…” and leaving it at that.

Karan is the boy you must watch out for, if you’re a blogger, lest he attack you with his vile, grammatical weapon.

Karan is the boy who was highly distressed at Manav being mentioned more than him in my first entry.

Karan is the boy who, hopefully now, wears a satisfied smile on his face and is rubbing his hands together with glee.

Karan is basically one of the delightful discoveries I made a little too late in my school life.

The Week That Was

2004-10-18T06:34:00.000+05:30

Ah well! I’ve decided to join the blogging clan! For all of you who do not know me…I am Smita…a humanities student who doesn’t object to being called ‘A Dreg of Humanities’ much as Bhavya might insist that that I do! I have this awful habit of digressing (anyone who knows me will confirm that!) so pardon me if I go wandering off the topic like an aimless cow. I’ve just gotten through a really, really, really busy week.

I shall proceed to relate all my tales of the week whether you like it or not.

Starting Monday, I went out to lunch for Akshay’s birthday to Pizza hut. Akshay is the tall, lanky, bespectacled Vice Prezzie Student’s Council who also happens to be one of my closest friends. I shall not elucidate much on his birthday celebrations because nothing very exciting happened.

Come Tuesday, I had my OWN birthday to celebrate. I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY HORRID MATH PAPERS MUST BE GIVEN OUT ON MONDAY! That, of course, was the reason why only 5 out of 14 people landed up for the lunch. Apart from strange people like Vrinda Maheshwari, who said she couldn’t come because her conscience wouldn’t allow her to, all the others had absolutely plausible reasons for not coming. That would be the dratted math paper obviously. Why the teachers must correct so abysmally and why the students refuse to study dhang se, I fail to comprehend. Well, enough of whining about that. Anyway, I took Koval, Aastha, Akshay and Zafar out to a place called ‘Colours’n’ Spice’. Manav got stuck in school because of the darned quiz being held on that day. He promised to reach the restaurant by 3:00. However, that was not to be (sigh). So I waited and waited for him till about 3:20 and then the restaurant guys chucked me out. The idiot finally landed up at my place at about 4:00. Boy, was I glad that he had the good sense to come! That feeling didn’t last too long though! The moment he entered, he held out his hand and demanded 40 bucks from my dad to pay the auto waiting outside (he said) and the moment he got the money he tore down the street to an auto parked in never-never land ( it seemed). That was still acceptable. But, when he came tearing down the street back to my house and literally flung himself inside with a triumphant yell, was when I was a wee bit taken aback. I, however am used to him. I shall mayhap, tell you all about how he dragged me to Gyan’s house ( a guy I don’t even know) and how I was terribly embarrassed at being seen there, specially with Manav brutally demolishing a corn cob. But that of course, is a different story. Coming back to what I saying. So Manav, after his dramatic entry, declared that he was hungry. So I told my maid to heat up what I had gotten home from the restaurant (Akshay and Zafar had ordered a full butter chicken of which they had eaten only 2 pieces) and a huge heap of rice plus some rotis. Meanwhile, Manav dearest flung himself, not on my bed mind you, but on my lovely little dog on the floor and was wailing away about incomprehensible things. When, with the tone one uses with lunatics, I finally convinced Manav to seat himself on my bed and relate the woes of his life to me, I unknowingly walked through the doors of hell. Manav began whining (people who know him will know what I’m talking about!) Yes, so he whined and whined about his geography marks, about his economics marks, about PC’s marks and about how they came 7^th in the quiz. When my maid announced that lunch (ahem) was ready, Manav, ceaselessly lamenting, proceeded to polish of everything given to him which included a whole handi of butter chicken. Anyway, we chatted till about 5:30 when my dad entered and enquired as to when Manav would be going home (hehe). Nyah, my dad’s just like that, particular about what time you get home and stuff. So, heaving a sigh of relief, I bundled Manav out of the house and into yet another auto. At this juncture may I proceed to mention that neither Manav nor Zafar have given me my birthday gifts yet. Hmph! Oh, by the way, forgot to say that on Monday we went from school to Chandni Chauk on a heritage walk. It was fun. Specially for those people who love history and squalid, yet enchanting, places like Kolkata and Chandi Chauk

Wednesday. A comparatively unhectic day, when I came home from school and slept and slept and slept.

Thurday. We had our scholar badge ceremony that took up most of the day and then I went out with the Delegation of Italy to the UN office to get info for the British School MUNA. I returned home dog tired at about 7:00 pm. You know, at first I was all pissed about being the only 12thee in my delegation, but now I’ve gotten used to it and thoroughly enjoy working with them. My delegation consists of Vasudha, Shantanu, Arjun, Kartik (Pental) and me. They are all great fun and we work well together. Kartik however, looks and behaves drunk ( no offence).

Friday, I went to Mathura Rd for the Talent Fiesta. Manav, Vrinda and a bunch of others were there too. It was kinda weird, cos they didn’t give us the results. I mean, they’d informed us that we had qualified for one of the 1^st three positions, but which one of the three, they refused to tell. We were however, enlightened on Saturday morning when we were told that we had come 2^nd in both Music and Choreography. And the worst part of Mathura Rd was that we never got any decent refreshments. Then, I stayed back for duty for Fireball 2004 as well as practice for Bro Bergin Music Meet. Fireball was basically an inter school rock band competition organised by Apocalypse ie our school band. 80% of the competition was what Karan described in ‘The Rock Show’. However, some of them were really good and I enjoyed listening to them. The chief guest was Shibahi Kashyap who insisted on singing ‘Ho gayi hai mohabbat tumse’. What I don’t get is when these bands try to play rock music, why must they insist on shrieking into the mike and using way way way too much distortion! It really sounds horrendous. Anyway, bang next to the speakers I found a woebegone Jeanie Ma’am who sheepishly confessed that she was in charge of this whole fiasco. Poor thing, the things she’s made to do. She looked at me with a nonplussed expression and begged me to enlighten her on the musical aspect of this competition. The competition however, was enjoyed by majority of the students (except Vrinda Marwah, who came upto me and asked in her deep voice,” what the f*** is this?”) and was a success.

On Saturday we went to MSM for The Brother Bergin’s Music Meet ( yes, yes, Karan I know you’re giggling) and won the rolling trophy yet again. 1^st prize for the solo sung by an arrogant brat, Shashank Aggarwal, 1^st prize in the instrumental and 2^nd for the group song. MSM's got a lovely canteen with yummmmmmm food. Oh, and our bus had amazingly disappeared, so we were stuck in MSM till about 1:00 when the western music kids arrived. We whiled away the time by playing frizbee with a tabla ring.

Today, I went to Barista to meet up with Vasudha and Arjun for MUN. Highly enjoyable. Working at Barista, sipping a hot cup of coffee with whipped cream and ending with a delectable ‘Dark Temptation’. Lunched at McDonald’s. Got quite a bit of work done and came back.

That, my friends, was the ‘relaxing’ week I was supposed to enjoy after my exams.

I’m facing another hectic week and get quite exhausted simply thinking about the amount of work I’ve got to get done.

Oh by the way, allow me to feel highly elated about my marks.

Psychology-61/70

Eco- 73(complete fluke)

History –82(fluke yet again)

English-69 (Vinci’s checking)

Pol Science- 73 (78’s the highest)

Yay, yay! I’m all happy.

On that ecstatic note I shall end my post………