Pieces of Me

A Dream

2012-01-12T00:24:00.001+05:30

A distant gaze, a future it sees,
Laughter and joy and serenity,
The flutter of the eye,
Oh it cannot be!
A pinch on the arm,
And she is back to reality.

Oh, Uneasiness!

2011-06-04T17:42:00.002+05:30

Oh uneasiness, how you tease,
you come and go, as you please!
You mock, you dance, with mirth you laugh,
amused and gleeful, at this tumultuous heart!

You cast a shadow, you bring a tear,
your force is baffling, no wonder so feared!
A sly little creature, Oh you are,
a prey of the mind, what a predator you are!

You swirl and sway, in the maze of my thoughts,
I try to fight you, but never are you caught!
Smooth and silky, you know your way,
How I wish you would just go away!

Oh uneasiness, you shrewd cunning Devil,
Fortunately, I've learned to fight you right,
I'll sparkle with a force so sure,
Ha, you'll be banished with that ray of light!

Rant. Me.

2011-05-24T19:32:00.002+05:30

I wake up every morning, and wonder what to do next. Then I brush my teeth, have my breakfast, and then a bath.

And I wonder again, what next?

I kept thinking it's a phase, but now I think it's a problem. I seem to want to know the answers to everything. And I have a fear of things going wrong. At times, I just want to cuddle up in someone's arms and cry myself crazy and wake up to a time, where everything is just how I want it.

And ironically, I have everything with the potential of making me immensely happy in life. I have two cool parents, who strike a perfect balance between discipline and openness. I have friends who have accepted me for what I am and love me a whole lot for it. I have a job that pays well, and a hobby that makes me happy!

So, what is my problem?

I don't know.

Well, that's not entirely true.

My problem is fear.

I fear that I might lose this all.

I fear I won't be happy or successful. I fear heartbreak. I fear betrayal. I fear one day my friends will realize just how messy I am and wonder what they saw in me in the first place. I fear distance will estrange and that love will never blossom. I fear I won't have it in me to pursue my dreams and beam in real life. I fear failure. I fear loneliness. I fear I'll be unprepared for things ahead and one step too late. I fear losing a loved one.

Yep, so it's not just ghosts that scare me. I'm a pretty big scaredy cat alright!

I watched Randy Pausch's Last Lecture, and broke down in 10 minutes flat. (Partly because I knew how it would end ). I stopped watching P.S. I love you after 30 minutes. And I absolutely hated the last episode of Dexter on Season 4.

A friend of mine lost his life in a car accident sometime last year. The car overturned and he was thrown out.

Another friend committed suicide few months earlier.

So young. So dead.

I remember the body wrapped for the burial. I remember ashen faces. I remember the newspaper article.

And I remember how I first felt when I heard the news. Why?

I had nightmares where I imagined the feeling of jumping off a balcony. The feeling of helplessness and the inability to reverse your action once you took the leap. The searing pain as your body hit the ground.

Those were frightening thoughts.

I had met him two days before and I couldn't sense any distress. How oblivious was I?

I started imagining suicidal tendencies in everyone then. A minor upset and I would worry about that person's mental makeup.

I wondered if I had it in myself. Was I strong enough for life? How does one know anyway?

The volatility of life suddenly hit me.

And threshold for everything that wasn't evidently "happy" became 0. And fear set in.

Life became a drudgery and I wanted to know that mine wasn't one. It was as though I was refusing to move forward unless someone guaranteed I'd never have to face a hurdle. I seemed to want a report card on life, which read straight A's.

Obstacles overwhelmed me, and I saw everything with a negative eye. I didn't want to hurt. Not even a little.
What if I crumbled?

I felt people didn't need me as much as I needed them. I felt I was a burden when low and love became a trite emotion.

It felt as though the world was doomed, everyone was inherently unhappy and maybe 2012 wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

Life became all about fleeting happiness and mounting pain.

The silver lightening in this dark cloud that my mind had become was the tiny knowledge that this person with these thoughts wasn't me.

I wasn't a negative person. I wasn't droopy faced and furrowed brow.

I was cheerful. Happy. Twinkle in the eyes and spring in the step. Hell, I danced more than walked and spoke more than thought.

So, where had I lost myself?

I remembered writing down my rules of happiness in my diary sometime back, actually a long time back, and now seemed like a good time to fetch them.

After rummaging through the mess that my bookshelf had become, I finally found the list. And this is how it went.

NO EXPECTATIONS

Don't expect to be the class prefect. If it happens, great. If it doesn't, focus on badminton. Remember to congratulate whoever it is that wins. Jealousy is lousy.

He could say I like you, but don't expect him to sit with you at lunch time. He is a boy. Boys are weird. Plus, he'll eat your lunch.

100/100 in Maths is possible, but thinking about it while solving sums leads to silly mistakes. ( Don't use diameter as radius in the circle formula. Ever. )

SMILE

Your friends say you look pretty. Plus, it might get you those dimples that you have always wanted.

DON'T PISS MOM OFF

Just don't.

DON'T TELL EVERYONE YOUR SECRETS

Remember this.

ALWAYS PLAN THE SURPRISE PARTIES

Because everyone else just does a lousy job. Try, however, not to plan your own.

REMEMBER WHO YOU LENT YOUR CLOTHES TO AND GET THEM BACK BEFORE MOM NOTICES

She buys your clothes.

ALWAYS BE HONEST

TELL PEOPLE YOU LOVE THEM

Don't hate. Try not to. Forgive yourself if some people annoy you. They can't help it.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

Especially when you feel cranky. Remember you are not a fun person when cranky. REMEMBER!

YOU WILL FIND MR.RIGHT

Till then, do something about your hair!

DON'T FEEL BAD ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS

Your feelings, duh!

Clearly, I was a much cooler person at 15 than at almost 25.

That's why I like writing. It effectively captures you at significant moments of time, and you can always reflect on these moments later and either laugh or derive strength.

In the past few months, I've come to believe a lot less and question a lot more. Maybe it's the different experiences, incidents, close friends moving away, or just a different phase of life. I've realized that I really want to do a lot of things in life, I love many different things, and I want to be with certain people forever.

Few things have come to mean a lot to me over time, and I never want to lose them. Ambitions, dreams, and love course through me, sometimes with such force, that I wonder if I'm even allowed to feel this way.

I read through old messages and feel a sense of warmth and familiarity which gets me through the toughest of days. Yet, I taint pure emotions by analyzing them, rather than basking in them for that present moment. I make a mess out of situations by thinking from the heart than from the head and I ruin ephemeral situations by practicality. I can be your punching bag, but won't let you be my shoulder. I'm a contradiction of sorts but maybe the most adorable of them all? :)

But at the end of the day, when I'm done with my whims, I see the "good" stuff. I believe in good over evil, I believe in truth over diplomacy, and I believe in will over circumstance.

I realize the strength lies in those people around me. They didn't go because I didn't leave.

The strength is in willing to go on. It's in daring to dream. For your own sake.

The uncertainty drifts away.

And I smile.

Don't quit

2010-10-10T19:29:00.000+05:30

When things go wrong as they sometimes will,

When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,

When the funds are low and the debts are high

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about

When he might have won had he stuck it out;

Don't give up though the pace seems slow--

You may succeed with another blow,

Success is failure turned inside out--

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far;

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--

It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

-Edgar A. Guest

* This poem landed in my inbox today. Thank you! :) *

2010-10-05T02:33:00.006+05:30

When you lack that faith,
to carry on,
When you feel weak,
and can't seem to go on,
When the lights are switched,
but you lie wide awake,
When hopes are dimmed,
or flicker away...

When all "It's alright"s make no sense,
And all the sympathy cracks your defense,
You feel those tears start to sting your eyes,
and your mind says "Don't cry baby, don't cry!"

When you feel powerless and so unsure,
When nothing seems to go right anymore,
Come to me for the brighter side,
I'll show you how to colour those dark gray skies

I'll be your torch, I'll be your star,
I'll be the flow of the water, that carries you far,
Till the sight of the shore your eyes can see,
And the safety of the ground your feet can feel

Cause I know you have the strength to endure,
A little rain can't dampen your soul,
Bounce back and shine, like you always do,
And remember, I'll be there when you do!

2010-10-05T01:25:00.001+05:30

Some resolves are never broken.

Some spirits are never dead.

Some friendships last forever :) ,

and somethings never need to be said.

2010-09-19T23:54:00.004+05:30

A soft breeze,
On a summer day,
The leaves that rustle,
The trees that sway,

Around us, above us,
Pure happiness shines,
This moment is ours,
Just yours and mine

2010-08-16T22:13:00.000+05:30

Why do these tears dry up in me?
They seem so scared to fall,

Lest they stain your rich black shirt,
and leave a trail of love

* Blame the tear jerker movies *

2010-08-02T23:06:00.006+05:30

Those little hopes,
That warm my heart,
A leap of faith,
In a world seemingly dark,
An urge to make those dreams come true,
But a little scared, confused and blue.

Big philosophies and tales of success,
Overwhelm me, I must confess,
Sometimes I wonder if I have the nerve,
To rule this world, on my own terms.

I seek comfort while craving the wild,
Inside I am a lost little child?
In a crowd of faces I wish to glow,
And if you ask me How? I do not know.

Words of wisdom fall flat on my ears,
And those of critique heighten my fears,
"What do you want in life?" you ask,
I pause to answer, but my mind's a blank.

I have a thousand voices in my head,
Some yell, some soothe, some seethe, some beg,
Each goal they set for me to chase,
I run after, ambitious, unfazed

I am torn between clashing odds,
Which way to go, which river to cross,
Do I really know what's best for me?
Can I confidently boast of such clarity?

I fret, I aim, I aspire, I pray,
At times, I wish, someone would lead the way,
But I know this is my path to tread,
And I must believe if I have to succeed.

And here I go, with all my might,
To that day where choices prove right,
Cause every tussle must have a win,
Triumphant eyes and a big fat grin.

So, if this phase lasts for a while,
I know I'll keep swimming through,
And someday I'll look back and smile,
And say, "Well! Wow! Whew!"

Strength and 24

2010-06-07T00:03:00.008+05:30

When I was 6 years of age, I wanted a white fairy dress. It had a huge bow on the back and lace in the front and was pristine white. It also had a netted underskirt which I was fascinated with. The dress was beautiful, and I was quite convinced that I'd look beautiful in it too.

And I was pretty sure I'd get my wish fulfilled. After all, my birthday was just around the corner. I hinted the way a six year old does, which is pretty direct.

"Mommy, I want that dress!"

My mom nodded. I smiled. Things were so easy when you were six years old.

On the day of my birthday, I eagerly waited for my parents gift. I imagined a big box wrapped with a pink bow, which I'd rip apart, only to find the dress of my dreams within. Everyone would coo and I'd flaunt it. I could hardly wait.

Before the guests were to arrive, I rushed to my mothers bedroom and stretched my hands out to receive my birthday gift. My mother asked me why I wanted it now.

"Becausseee, I want my friends to see me in it mommy!", I yelled enthusiastically.

"Well, okay. Since you insist", she said.

She handed me a big box and I was instantaneously gratified. My dress!! The box was a little bigger than expected, but that just meant my parents had gone the extra mile to do something special for me on my day. I was ecstatic.

I opened it in a hurry. With the wrapping paper off, I quickly lifted the lid of the box to find yellow and blue skates underneath. Fisher Price. I was confused.

"Where is the dress?", I asked.

My father stepped in.

"Sweetie, the dress had a rough netting. It's not good for a girl your age. Maybe when you are slightly older. Okay?", he said.

No it wasn't okay.

"But a girl in my class has the sameeeee one in pink! Her parents allowed her to! Why can't you?", I screamed.

My mother tried to embrace me, and whispered some consoling words. I didn't want to hear any of them. How could my parents be so mean? They had promised! It was my birthday!

"But you promised!! It's my birthday!! ", I started crying now.

"Sweetie..."

I didn't wait to hear the remainder of that sentence.I rushed into my room, threw myself on the bed, and cried as if my world has just ended. I felt sorry for myself and decided I would never talk to my parents again! They had just ruined my birthday party! All I wanted was a dress, and I got skates instead!

The guests started coming soon, and somehow I forgot about the dress and went to play hide and seek. After a while, my mother called me to cut the cake, and as people prodded me to make a wish, I looked up forlornly at my mother.

She sensed what I was hinting at.

"Wish for something dear", she said.

"I had. And I didn't get it!", I whispered back.

"Well, wish that one day you do get it, and wish that you have the strength to enjoy your birthday even without that gift", she suggested.

It didn't make any sense to me. Why would I wish for strength when I had been wishing for a dress instead?

But I wished for strength anyway.

Post that birthday, those skates turned out to be very special. I won my first under-8 gold in the district skating competition. I then moved on to roller skates and won many other golds too. Skating became my passion and I preferred wearing cycling shorts to dresses. And I finally gave those yellow and blue Fisher Price skates to my maids kid, who wanted to skate too.

A week back, I was shopping for my 24th birthday dress. After turning 21, it had become a ritual for me, without me even realizing it.

Nothing caught my eye, and the shopping wasn't distracting me from my funny mood. Suddenly, my birthday didn't seem exciting anymore. I was on non-speaking terms with a close friend, my closest friends weren't in town, and I had heard that the performance bonuses for this financial year were meagre. I went into a self pity mode. All I wanted was a nice birthday dress!

The 6th birthday flashed in my head. And while I held the fabric of a ridiculous looking shiny yellow dress in my hand, I wished for strength. Strength to believe that the tiff would be resolved, strength to believe that even with the distance, I'd still feel the birthday love, strength to believe my bank balance would be higher than my birthday age. And I decided I didn't need a birthday dress.

My 24th birthday turned out to be awesome. My parents gifted me with a nice cheque (Amount shall be undisclosed ;)) and a beautiful bouquet, a friend baked a cake, the non-speaking pact was off, and I got a message, two very sweet emails and a skype birthday song from the dears who weren't near. Oh, I also got a really beany bean bag, which relaxes me just fine. And a birthday song played by a friend cum upcoming mouth organ-ist. If that's a word :) And the day ended with a nice family dinner at a lavish restaurant with good food and drinks.

The day after saw a nice amount being debited to my account, much greater than my age, and extended celebrations with another home-baked cake and lots of dancing!

Looking back, all those things seem petty now. The fight ( it scares me a little now too :p), the fact that your closest friends aren't around and fretting over how much you'll be rewarded.

And I guess you just have to be reminded of what's more important once in a while, and gather the strength to enjoy it. And then, things somehow fall into place.

I'm glad my mother taught me to wish right.

And this weekend, I'll be shopping alright!

The Golden Moments

2010-04-16T01:21:00.005+05:30

* The writer requests the reader to read the previous post, before starting this, to get the complete golden moment :) *

The next morning, I woke up, disoriented. I groggily remembered what day it was, and what I was supposed to be doing.

I yawned and stretched.

PIDC. The competition. Brilliant dancers. Hot guys who could salsa!

Nah, who was I kidding! Hot guys can't salsa. (Me prayed that God send some guy to prove me wrong and not be gay either! And not be married. Or a teenager)

I moved slowly, the way I move when it's morning and all I want to do is snuggle into my warm bed and dream away to glory. But, that wasn't happening today.

You have bigger things to look forward to today.

I laughed to myself. The things I say to pep myself up! I had already packed everything the night before (making my mom feel proud of me) and so, with nothing left to do in the morning, I resorted to making inquiry calls for my costume, while I waited for my ride. The early morning network congestion ( I don't know why I've added the early morning there, with Airtel, it's almost always congested ) allowed me to send a message, to which I got a short reply "I'm carrying it"

By the time we reached the venue, whole 10 minutes early due to my constant "Move it people" whine, I was super excited.

Oh my god, there ARE international instructors here. They are ACTUALLY here. This is so awesome!

I did my happiness dance, which goes.... oh never mind.

The workshops started on time, and I flashed my "Ha..I told you it would" smug smile, which was greeted by the "Oh please" rolled eyed look. The first workshop of the day was Flamenco, and it involved clapping, slapping yourself on the arms, thighs, and stomping your feet. Throwing a tantrum to the powerful flamenco beat, if you will. And was it fun? Oooo yeh!! It was followed by a Salsa workshop by two super cool Americans, the guy being a total darling, and the girl being sizzling hot. The day progressed through workshops (bboying, cha cha cha, mambo), all of us gushing over the styling in each dance, and very happy about getting this opportunity to learn these different styles.

Post lunch, we decided to go for the Competition Level Salsa dancing workshop, thinking it would add to our confidence level before the competition. It did not. What it achieved was the complete opposite effect, and then suddenly, we didn't want to go up on that stage. That feeling heightened, when we came to know who the judges would be.

We were asked to report at 4 o'clock for the pre-competition instructions, and at around 3:30 pm, my partner realized that he had left his costume at home.

I said three things.

Gooooooooooooooooooo get it!!!

He didn't get the original costume. The black shirt we had decided on, he couldn't find. So he got a purple one instead. I was wearing golden. And by that time, we both gave two hoots to the "costumes should match" concept.

Now would be a good time to explain how the competition is conducted. There are heats. The judges select two couples from each heat, to dance in the finals. The music is played on the spot. So, you dance impromptu. All you have to do is follow your partners lead, dance so that the judges notice you and audience hoots. ( This requires an array of actions and emotions, for example, winking, shaking the bum in a sexy-but-not-slutty way (NOT easy to do :p), smiling, and still staying on beat). Ah, piece of cake.

I was freaking out. My partner (let's call him A ;) ) noticed.

A: Heyy... relax. We are going to rock it. Relax!
Me: Hmmm....
A: Just chill...do your stuff. You'll be awesome. Chill. Relax.
Me: Ahan..hmmm....
A: It's going to be fine, trust me.
Me: We are so doomed! Why are we doing this again!? Oh my god, we are going to bomb on stage!
A: Cheeeeeeeeeeel!

*hug*

Me: Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!

I couldn't oh my god anymore, because they were calling out the numbers. We were couple number 6.

And could we have couple number siixxxxxx on the stage please.

That was us.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!

And then, something within me took control. I walked on that stage, with my partner, arms stretched out to greet the audience, a huge smile on my face. My partner spun me, and both of us stood next to each other. And posed.I guess it looked confident. I could see the judges in the front. Heads bobbing. The spot lights glared into me, and I could barely make out where the audience was. I kept smiling though. With chin up.

The song, Michela, came on. The hoo-haa chorus blared through the speaker. And I felt a surge of confidence. My partner lead me into a cross body lead. We had a mini sequence decided, which included most of the salsa steps we had learnt, and the salsa shines. We performed half of it. And then we kept looping the sequence.

When we got off the stage, I was on a high. My heart was beating fast and I kept picturing us, from an eagle eye view. Were we noticed? Did we dance on beat? Would we make the cut?

I was jumpy, and I moved about, venting off that excess energy. Salsa was to be followed by the cha cha. Cha cha was not our strong point. All throughout the "practice" sessions, we had been going off beat. And it had to go cha cha 1,2,3 on the cha cha 1,2,3 beat, else you would be disqualified.

4 couples were on stage for the first round in the first heat, and we were centre stage. Few seconds passed by as hours, and finally Santana's Oye Como Va came on. It had a nice introductory music. I felt that surge of confidence again, and my mind took complete charge of my body. I circled my partner, doing the "girl around the guy walk", and then, instead of turning back to him, I went towards the judges, doing the cha cha lockstep in combination with my own styling. I went right to the front of the stage, giving the judges no option but to notice me, and I did a hip twist, pouted at the audience and sashayed back to my partner. He smiled, happy, and we caught the beat.

The cha cha had infused a confidence in me, and an alluring, bewitching aura surrounded me. I felt seductive, charming, attractive. One and a half minute of pure, unadulterated dancing. I wondered what professionals felt like.

We bowed to the judges and the audience and walked off the stage. My partner was simply excited over the cha cha performance.

A: It wasss aweesommme!
Me: *giggles*
A: We are so going to win!
Me : Shut up!
A: Ok, atleat get into the next heat. Finals!
Me: Ok, that seems possible.

We could see the judges handing their score sheets to the volunteers. Techno beats had now replaced the very smooth Santana, and I felt my heart beat in rhythm to it.The sheets were gathered, and the host walked up on stage to announce the finalists for the salsa heat. There were 9 couples, and 4 would be selected. Our previous heats' routine started playing over and over in my head.

Had I spun correctly? Did he do his cross body leads correctly? Why didn't we do the flick? Oh wait, we did. Did it look like a flick?

The host spoke.

And the first couple into the finals isssssssssss....any guesses?

Okay, I honestly don't know the numbers of the couples who made it in. I remember there was a 2, and a 1. And maybe a 3. My heart was pounding so hard, that it drowned out all the other voices. It just kept a filter for 6.

Say six. Please. We can't be out now. Oh crap, we are out.

Couple number not 6.

Cheering. Applause

Keep cool. There are 3 more places to go.

The next couple is...numberrrr...... any guesses?

Some yelled 4. Some yelled 6. I yelled along with them. Silently.

Couple number not 6!

More cheering. More applause.

2 more places to go. My partner held my hand.

Okay, so two more places to go. Could we have couple number.. 1/2/3/4/5/not 6/7/8/9 on the stage please!

This was it. There was one place left. My mind was blank now. I had some emotion, which I can't aptly describe, coursing through me. I imagined composing a "I didn't get through" message to my family and friends. I imagined their sympathetic replies.

No, no, say couple number 6. Say it. Now!

He took a long pause. I hated him.

Anndd last but not the least....

He turned to look at all of us, an understanding, sly smile on his face. Like he found our anxiety amusing, and understood how much importance his next few words held for us. He took his time basking in that self importance.

Couple number..... Couple numbeerrr....

Oh just kill me!

Ssssixxxxxxx!!

Oh my god, I just died. Before I had time to react, my partner had already taken my hand, and was pulling me up the stage stairs . As if on autopilot, I put on a radiant smile, glared back into the spotlights, and sauntered onto the stage. This time, front, corner, left.

They made us turn around so they could see the numbers clearly. Completely taken over by a stage high, I finger signaled our number, and wriggled the 6 standing fingers about.

Host: You don't act it out, you dance it out!
Audience + Me : *laugh*

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the judges laughing too. Had I just earned myself a brownie point?

More at ease now, our pose came naturally. I felt lighter inside, and gauging from my partners grip, I felt him feel ease out too.

Careless Whisper's latino version started to play. Buying time to catch the beat, I performed a body wave, with my hand extending over my head and then coming down to settle on my hip, and from there I gave it to my partner. He refused to take it. He didn't feel the beat was right. Without wasting time or showing shock, I quickly did the same thing again, with a little more oomph this time, and now when I gave him my hand, he quickly lead me for a cross body lead ending with a spin.

We looped the same sequence, with more confidence and style added to it. A bit of familiarity too. Somewhere in the middle of the sequence, his spectacles slipped off. But he was really good in recovering from that! Leading me with one hand, he quickly slipped them back on with the other, smiled at me nonchalantly, and continued the sequence. Admirable!

One and a half minute, and the final salsa heat was over. Now, it would be cha cha cha time. And then, the verdict would be out. Now only if we made it into this heat too, I thought. Again, 9 couples, 4 would be selected.

I was quite confident about being in the finals for cha cha, and honestly speaking, I thought we'd win the silver. But I guess I was getting too ahead of myself.

The host walked up on stage again. He garnered the audience's applause by stating what an awesome heat it was, and then spoke about the sponsors who made it possible to have such a brilliant heat. Okay!

Moving on with the cha cha finals.... the four couples....in random order... couple number sixxxxx....

The wait wasn't an excruciating one this time. I whispered to my partner, asking him to lead me centre stage again. And thats exactly what he did. We waited for the three other couples to join us.

The song came on instantly. I don't know the name. All I can remember is the way it started. Loud. Energetic. I was sold. I quickly glanced at the other couples. All of them had started dancing, either doing a fan, the hockey stick, or the chasse. I refused to do so. What else could I do? I decided to repeat the cha cha lockstep towards the judges. I'd just modify it a bit. I didn't know how until I reached the front edge of the stage. I looked directly at the judges this time, brought my hands up to my head, resting lightly on my hair, did a half spin, looked over the shoulder, back down to the judges, then up to the audience, and alternately lock stepped back to my partner, who, guessing I would pull that again, waited in pose, with a slight smirk on his face.

The rest of the sequence is a blur to me. It's like a tape being fast forwarded, till the part where we bowed and walked off stage. I had to perform in an hours time, so we were immediately shoo-ed to the changing rooms. Never being the kind to discuss a performance/test after having given it, I tried to remain inconspicuous to everyone around. At the same time, I was bursting with curiosity.

Suddenly, I heard a loud cry from behind, and felt myself engulfed in a hug.

You were amazing!! It was so good! Goldennn girrll!

I laughed nervously. Yeah? It was good? We didn't make utter fools of ourselves?

Noooooo!! Not at all! You are winning! Everyone was like that golden girl was goood!Believe me!

Okay, she was just being nice. I had to summarize that to, You didn't completely goof up on stage and people won't point at you and laugh.

Aren't you a surprise package?! That was not bad, not that bad. Actually!

There. Now that seemed normal.

You nailed it girl! That walk towards the judges for cha cha.... doneee! Doneee!!Sold!

By now, I was getting excited and nervous. In equally strong doses. I wanted to sit and ask more, hear more, and at the same time I wanted to flee and not hear anything, lest I raised my hopes too high, and got burned later. And had to send that "Oh, didn't win. But had good fun! Great experience" message. I was freaked out, and my mind was incoherent.

I quickly changed into my performance outfit, a teal, silver and purple masterpiece, which had initially failed to cover me properly. Now it fit snug, thanks to last minute alterations, and I was able to dance without worrying about what showed from where.

Rid of all the competition pressure, I thoroughly enjoyed performing on stage and loved the audience's encouragement. It, however, got over before it started. Stupid theory of relativity. (Hmpf, Einstein!)

We had a break after the performance, and before the prize distribution ceremony. I spent that time with other friends who had competed, those who I knew, so I wouldn't have to hear about how surprisingly good or pathetically bad I was. I kept getting occasional comments though, (honestly?) positive, and some friends kept gushing over the whole act. I got occasional smiles from random people, who must have recognised me from stage, and I felt the next one hour was going to be quite suspenseful. And I was antsy.

We were eventually ushered into the auditorium. The time had come, and after dazzling performances, which held us in awe, we were brought back to reality and were suddenly hyper excited.

The moment you all have been waiting for.... Prizes.. sponsored by bla bla bla..thanks to bla bla bla... so without further ado...bla bla bla..bla bla bla...bla bla bla... so without further ado...bla... here are the prizes for the Latin socials....

This meant the salsa. I spotted my partner sitting in the row in front and flashed him a quick smile. He grinned back. I laughed.

The runners up for Latin Socials areeee..... any guesses...?

The audience, probably as anxious to get on with it already, yelled random numbers. Some being 100, 4000, and -infinity.

The host, getting the hint, announced the runners up. They were not couple six.

I started typing the "Lost in salsa. Let's see, hope to get something in Cha cha" message.

And the winners of the Latin Socials arree....

I started picking out my message recepients from the address book. Mom, dad,

areee...couple number siixxxxx!

Couple number six, cousin, best friend,

What?! Couple number who won the Latin socials?

I sat dumbstruck in my seat. Someone behind tousled my hair and yelled a "I TOLD YOU". I heard plenty of congrats and woo-hoos. And I got up, and saw my partner waiting at the end of the aisle. I broke out into a light springy run, and felt a huge smile forming on my face. We went up on stage together, but not before exchanging a "We won? We won? Weeeeeeee? Wheeeeeee!!". I was pretty formal to receive the award. It still hadn't sunk in. Not until I saw the trophy and the gold medal was placed around my neck. Then, it started sinking in. Slowly.

We both got off the stage, still not sure of how we won! It seemed unreal. It felt awesome. We scanned the audience for familiar faces, and as we were about to head back to our seats, a volunteer told us to hang back. I looked at my partner, quizzically.

Maybe they want all the winners up on stage for a photo once all the prizes are out, I thought.

So we hung back, playing with our medals and gazing at the trophy.

So moving on, we now have the winners for the Latin Cha cha beginners....

I looked up to cheer, and caught a volunteer from my dance school winking at me. She smiled slyly and looked away. Realisation dawned on me, and I turned towards my partner, excitedly.

Me: We are winning the silver in Cha Cha!!!
A: Yeah? Really?
Me: Yeah! P just smiled at me now, and why else would they make us stand here?! Or maybe she was just smiling like that? No, but why would she do that? I think we are winning the silver!
A: Awesome!! I like what you think!

I liked it too. A silver and a gold. That would be so awesome! I thought of the message I would send now. "One gold, one silver. :D :D :D". And the replies! Oh, the replies!

In runners up we have..... couple number not sixxxx.

Applause.

What?!?Weren't we winning the silver? Had I gotten ahead of myself?Drat! Why did I have to imagine that message! Now I'll have to compose a "One gold" one. We weren't winning silver!Then why did she have to smile like that! Where is she?!

I looked up and now I saw her grinning at me. Was she stupid?

Why was she grinning now? Like I'm going to win the gold... ooo my god.. was I going to win the gold?

I looked over at my partner. He was checking out his medal, oblivious to the flurry of thoughts I had raging in my head.

You don't win two golds. Who wins two golds? You don't win two golds. Maybe it's the winner picture. Then, who was winning this? Could somebody just tell me!

My partner now looked at me, suddenly as curious.

And the winners....well..today is a good day indeed for them, is couple numbeerrrr sixxx!!!

I gasped.

You DO win two golds! I had just won two golds! Two golds! Meee? Meee? Meeee!!

I was so happy! I looked at my partner, and he had an incredulous look on his face. We both bounded up the stairs. Another trophy. Two more medals. Incredible!

Holding a trophy each, and the medals clanking against each other, we rushed into the audience, and immediately found ourselves in a big group hug. Everyone was so happy! There was cheering, hugging, yelling! Euphoria! I was still in shock, in suprise, it just wasn't sinking in.

Call your mom!You won!

I quickly took my phone from a friend, and after realising there was no network connectivity (I can't believe Airtel has those sentimental "express your emotions" ads), I texted everyone I could! And it read, "Two golds!"

In seconds, I got a plethora of calls and messages (Thank you :) ). All jubilant. All proud. I
couldn't wait to get home.

I didn't stay for the party that night. I rushed home as soon as possible, and hugged my mom and dad, and showed off the medals with the enthusiasm of a 6 year old. We clicked pictures and I showed them the video of the dance and pictures of the event.

I was on a tired high, and after eating some rice, simply due to my moms insistence, I dozed off. I had a dreamless night.

But I had the most amazing next day morning.

Golden dress. Golds. Golden girl.

I leaped out of bed.

I couldn't wait to start the day!

The pre-not-so-golden moments

2010-03-26T22:47:00.013+05:30

I want to write this, cause I don't want to forget it. If possible, I want to capture each emotion felt, from beginning to end.

In February, I had one exam to give. An exam I wasn't really keen on, knowing that I would not be prepped well enough, and I couldn't possibly achieve the required 2-3 years work experience (which the exam demanded) from a downloaded pdf. I cribbed about it, and my friends cribbed with me. (Darlings that they are :) ), and I knew I couldn't escape it. It just wasn't an option. I had to gather myself and give it, and I tempted myself into doing so, by imagining how great life would be after I gave it.

So what, I thought, it's just one exam. How tough could it be? Study, study for about 2 months, and just give it. Piece of cake. Would have been. But it wasn't meant to.

Around mid February, the dance school where I shimmy and shake, decided to play host to an international dance congress and arrange a tempting array of workshops, from belly dancing, to the mambo, from salsa casino rueda to popping. And boy, was I tempted. Learning these styles from those awesome dancers?! Hell yeah!

And then began the turmoil. The balancing act. I asked my mom, and she gave me a bewildered look. Her exact words were, Whats to manage? Right. What was there to manage? Work, study, go for the workshops for three days. Have the syllabus covered till then. I was fretting for no reason. It still was a piece of cake.

A week later, that piece of cake decided it didn't want to be just a piece of cake anymore. What was the fun in that? So, it decided to morph. I got a call from one of the instructors saying I was selected for team A and that practice would start the next day, at sharp 6 AM. Whats to rejoice? Well, Team A was team A. It meant that we would get to perform, on the final day, in front of all those awesome international instructors and crowd, and come down from the stage receiving the showered compliments oh so modestly. And who was selected for team A? Me!

After rejoicing and making phone calls to share the happiness, to people who did not understand what team A was all about, but woohoo-ed anyway, reality started to dawn upon me. Morning 6am to 8 am practice. Then work. Then study? That piece of cake was starting to get lodged in my throat now.

Deep breaths.

The situation was still in control. I'd practice in the morning, it was just for a week anyway. Work. And then study in the evening. Plus, I had the weekend. No friends on weekends, no movies. Just study. I mulled over it, and finally decided, this is how it would be. Friends would understand. Ofcourse they would. Not that they had a choice anyway. Right, so I could still swallow that piece of cake. No worries.

Practice started as planned, at 6 AM sharp ( a minute late, and you were screwed) and I have never been that exhausted in the mornings. The song was a fast one, and I was literally all over the place. I spun off balance, and I spun too slow. And I elicited frowns and tsk tsk(s). Not being one to quit, though my body begged me to, I pushed myself harder. I used to come home dead tired in the morning, just about manage a power nap (which I made myself believe would carry me through the day), have breakfast and rush to work. To keep my promise of studying in the evening, I would try to read a few pages, often ending up digressing or sleeping in the process. Impressing my way into the final team meant so much to me, that I actually took time out to learn a quick handstand and did so disregarding the muscle ache. As fate would have it, the handstand for the girls was scrapped out of the choreography, and I was scrapped out of the dream team. I was annoyed, frustrated, and I felt like I had been on a roller coaster after just having eaten. My limbs ached, I was sore, I hadn't studied, and I wasn't getting to perform on stage. I was a mixed bag of disappointment, relief, fatigue, and tension.

And then to make matters better, or worse, my dance teacher put us in a consolatory team B. Team B would have 3 dances, and practice again, from 6-8 am. My body screamed no. My mind went into overdrive, and I had no idea if I wanted in or out. Say no, say no, study and just go enjoy the workshops. Hell with the performance.

But I said yes. By this time, my reasoning capacity found it hard to deal with my silly surge of ambition, and just gave up. It was the classic, if you can't beat them, join them situation. I wish I could say I had an idea of where I was going and that I had a "plan", and that I could answer the "Why are you doing this again?" question with some amount of aplomb. I couldn't. I was just going with the flow, too confused to reason with myself, and too deep to back out. So, I continued to get up in the mornings, go to work, and come home and read pages. I postponed all plans with friends/family till April, and my list of calls to return kept growing huge.

Somewhere in the beginning of the month, in which all this was supposed to take off or crash land, a close friend happened to come down for a visit. She was super excited and so was I. Plans for stayovers, parties, and hanging out were being made, and suddenly, 24 hours didn't cut it anymore. Each minute seemed to count, and I felt like I was chasing time while it leaped away from me.

She left in a weeks time, and I was a week and a half away from the event. I wasn't sure if I was in team B either, as I was against 5 girls who were a level higher in the school of dance, and while we had 6 guys to partner up with, one guy's place in the whole performance was questionable. And if he went, I was told I would have to go. So, the story went like this..I was practicing every morning from dawn, for two hours, for a choreography I had no idea whether I would be a part of, whereas I should have been reading more pages? Yes, that was the story.

Throughout this whole madness that had become my life, I hadn't lost those silly surges of ambition. Or stupidity. Or sheer insanity. Call it what you like. While practicing one afternoon, my dance teacher thought it would be a neat idea to put in 16 spins on the introductory piece of the music. Naturally, he asked us to show him if we could do so. Having come straight from a friends place, I didn't have the customary socks with me. And the rule in dancing is, you don't spin without socks. Especially not on a rough terrace floor. But, as I mentioned before, my reasoning capacity had called it quits, and so with nothing to stop me, I spun. X into 16 times. I can't recollect X.

X must have been a nice whole number though, and it made its wholeness known. The next day I got up with calluses all over the soles of my feet. I felt proud. I shouldn't have.

A day later, they grew into a big blister, that spread from my little pinky toe to my big non pinky toe, and covered the ball of my right foot. I went for practice anyway. And I danced.

Again, I probably shouldn't have.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the situation with my foot got worse. The next morning, I had to miss practice. The blister was full, it was soft, and I couldn't touch the ball of my right foot to the floor. I limped, and it hurt. Since I had to balance my weight on my left foot and the side of my right foot, I started having back pain. Realising it wasn't going to harden soon or burst with the puss and water it had lovingly accumulated, I had to get the blister surgically drained. This meant that the skin had to be cut off post draining, and I couldn't dance for two days. I was a week away from the event.

As luck would have it, (yes, luck does figure into the story somehow), dance practice was canceled for those two days and was rescheduled for the weekend. And that wasn't practice, that was going to be elimination. It was deciding time.

Having been warned not to dance for two days, I spent those two days revising that sequence in my mind. I believe (at the risk of sounding corny) that if your mind can conceive it, you can achieve it. It was time to put that belief to test. I'd revise expressions, the sequence and imagine the body movements. I had created a third person view, and I would critique my dance in my head.

D-day came soon enough ( it always does). By now I had rehearsed the sequence mentally, more than those X into 16 times that gave me that monumental blister. And then, I showed it off. I danced with abandon, while my mind counted each beat.

123...567...123...567...pause..smile...spin...stop...half split..bodywave...123...567...

My face was pulled into an (hopefully) oomph-ish pout (smiling in salsa makes you look like a dork. Unless its once of those island songs that go la la la la la) and my mind kept guiding me.

Lopsided smile now, pout now, little steps, count your spins, spot your partner, listen to the beat!

When it was done, I stood, huddled amongst the group, mentally preparing myself for disappointing comments and decisions. Being slightly more realistic than optimistic, I don't believe that the effort you take necessarily transforms into those amazing moments of satisfaction people keep dreaming about. Sometimes it does, and it almost always does in movies, but I'm no actress.

Excellent energy... very good expressions... you are obviously in. But obviously! Mine would say something like You are still not getting the spins right. A tsk. Next time maybe, practice your spins. I'd be lucky if the critique was just limited to spins.

I sighed, and broke out of my reverie (if that's a right word for such kind of musings), to look up at the object of such assuring praise. And my teacher was looking straight at me. I looked down, embarrassed. Couldn't he just praise that person without having me feel bad? Must he be so direct with his disappointment?

Really good... Nice..the 6 couples are done then. Practice this week, and I'll see you guys on Wednesday.

Great. I was out. He, as decided, had taken the 6 good couples.. wait a minute, did he say 6? Did that mean I waaa... I looked up, and was suddenly engulfed in a hug. Peeking over the shoulder of my partner hugging me, I saw smiles directed at me.

You are in baby! We are performing. Wooohooo! Told yaaaaaaaaaa!

Oh my god! I was in! I was in, babbeeyyyyyyyy! I was in. It was done. I would perform, and now with this tension of being selected gone, I could focus on the exam preparation. I could still swallow that piece of cake!

Not quite.

With the team being selected, my dance teacher asked us if we were competing. I avoided his gaze and admired the neighbouring trees instead. What green leaves!

Trees don't do much to make you inconspicuous though. He asked me about my participation directly. And I wished the Earth would just open up that very moment, and give me refuge.

I have an exam, I said, for work.

He wasn't impressed. He raised an eyebrow.

No time, I sputtered.

Time for what? You just have to go on stage, wait for the music to play, and dance. He looked at me, disapprovingly.

And suddenly, he had an idea.

Lets simulate the enviroment here. I'll play random music, and you all pick up the beat and start dancing. Let's do it!

Whaaaaaaaaat? I looked up at the sky, and almost expected to see God with a huge grin on his face, enjoying the scene on that hot terrace.

So I parterned up with a friend, and waited for the cue music. It was the cha cha.

I would love to elaborate on the cringe worthy dancing that followed, but I'm in no mood to thoroughly entertain you. So, the gist of the dance on random music with the correct style was as follows :-

I couldn't dance on beat
I couldn't follow the leads
We wouldn't even be considered as competition

I'm still not sure how I ended up registering for the competition. It's a question that amuses me till date.

4 days before the competition and the performance, we were given our costumes for trials. The fabric was a skin hugging one, and also one that had a tendency to ride up. Plus, it was 2 inches way too short, in addition to being short.

Was this a sign? Was I not supposed to do this at all? Were these signals from those almighty people above, telling me to take a U turn? Or was it a test of patience and perseverance?

I was confused.

And the confusion wasn't about to end. The day before the competition, we realized, we being my partner and myself, that we couldn't co - ordinate a costume. We had no colours in common, and finally we decided to go - him all black, and myself in a red singlet and a black skirt. Those were dull costumes. I then called a friend, who I remembered had a nice blue costume. She told me she didn't have it with her,and redirected me to another friend who had a golden costume. She agreed to let me have it, and we decided to meet in the evening, so I could try it out, lest there be any problems with the fitting.

We didn't meet that evening. That meant I would be trying out the costume the day of the competition, and no alterations could be made if it didn't fit.

I slept that night, very exhausted.

Tomorrow would be some day. And maybe I would choke on that piece of cake.

2010-02-28T00:10:00.003+05:30

I sat looking at the textured pattern on the wall. It was golden, with white flowers and leaves. My mother had reworked it four times, till she felt the texture maker dude had done it justice. It was such a soothing pattern, and especially under the three spotlights, it looked magnificent. My mother's a creative genius.

I looked outside the dining room windows, at the swing and the trees that surrounded it. The chimes hung in the window swayed gently, giving out pleasant and perfectly distanced albeit different notes. It was a cool night, and the white bougenville that creeped along the outside perimeter made a soft rustling noise.

I decided to move from the chair and sit in the window. I loved the fact that the window ledge was just broad enough for me to sit on. I just fit.

I scanned the entire frontyard. The rose bush. The hibiscus. The mogra. The magnolias.The palm. The other small potted plants I didn't know the names of. I'll call them the cute little flowers. The swing. And the other potted plants that hung from it's shed, with their leafy branches overflowing. The overhead awnings.

I sat there. I sat there, a little more.

A soft breeze sent a shiver through me, and I headed towards my room.

A floral blanket lay folded at the edge of my bed, and I wasted no time snuggling into it.

As I lay, waiting for sleep to claim me, I realised I was suddenly very calm. A big fat smile spread on my face, and I nestled in deeper.

Deep breaths ensued.....

Untitled

2010-02-13T00:29:00.003+05:30

I leap a little everyday,
sometimes making the distance,
I confront a little everyday,
sometimes striking a balance

I trust a little everyday,
sometimes building the faith
I help a little everyday,
sometimes never too late

I look higher a little everyday,
sometimes seeing the sky,
I look deeper a little everyday,
sometimes liking what I find

I love a little everyday,
sometimes surging the heart
I dream a little everyday,
sometimes living it all

Of life and pain :)

2010-01-26T20:06:00.003+05:30

There are two types of people in this world.

One, who believe in everything that is good.
And the second, who chose not to believe in everything that is good.

And they both suffer from pain.

What happens to the first kind is, they can still reflect on this pain with warmth, and smile through it. They stare the world in the face, and ask for more. They live without fear, and with a renewed vigour.

The second kind feel vulnerable. They live with apprehension, always afraid to take that plunge and make that leap. They fear there won't be anyone to catch, should they fall, never realizing that they could make the perfect landing.

The first breathe life, and the second exhale it.

The first kind stand, touch and look up. The second kind shirk, wallow, and cave in.

The first kind feel they are beyond the pain. And the second kind feel they cannot bear the pain.

And the funny thing is, both have already borne the pain.

*Inspired from a quote by Saint Bartholomew. It goes "Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with mistaken belief that you cannot bear the pain.But you have already borne the pain. what you have not done is feel you are beyond the pain." *

Drown your sorrows in chocolate...

2010-01-15T00:42:00.006+05:30

I feel crappy often enough.

And I usually cry it out, or crib about it, or just get some friend to give me a big hug.

Or I sulk. Like today!

But then, there was this one thing I had forgotten I used to do.

Few years ago, an artistic friend and a docile and disbelievingly innocent friend of mine, along with me, were attempting to crack the toughest exam in India, the IIT-JEE. Ok, we weren't attempting, we were kidding ourselves with thoughts of.

So, we used to do miserably. I don't even have to say I'm not kidding.

This used to upset that innocent friend of mine. And I couldn't stand her being like that.

So, in a very chirpy voice, which I could carry off then, I used to tell her,

"Let's drown our sorrows in some nice chocolate icecream!!"

Today, about four years later, I sat feeling like a useless thing..person. I was a clumsy daughter, a never there friend, and recently I had started spitting fire.

And this upset me.

I guess she couldn't stand me being like that.

So, in a very chirpy voice, which she can carry off, she said,

"Let's drown our sorrows in some nice chocolate icecream!!"

I never knew she actually did.

The beauty of friendship is that your friends can remember these little things you used to say and do, and love you for the same. And when you feel like complete scum, they can make you feel like lovable scum. And they remind you, that you are important. Cheers to friendship!

I'm really sorry for not being the nicest person to have around. A big fat thank you to all of you for being tolerant and nice, nevertheless. I can only hope, I deserve it :)

2010-01-04T22:27:00.001+05:30

Should stick to writing blog posts.

* wails *

For that small, flitting grain of time....

2009-12-13T23:00:00.000+05:30

I wish I could write a mindset altering piece.
One that would make people believe in existence of good. One that would bring goosebumps. One that will sear irrational convictions to bring about a radiant flush within the mind. Write words that would evoke feelings of togetherness and harmony. Words that deftly yet subtly signify some meaning of existence and humanity, providing solace to troubled, questioning minds. Some father would keep it, hoping to inspire his child. Some mother would read it, just before she kissed goodnight. And maybe some young adult, would wipe away a tear, smiling wistfully as he acknowledged the truth, the one he knew deep inside and the one that I'd written. A naive young teenager, would use it to calm herself, when she felt that tussle between her mind and heart. And somewhere, few of the words would be inscribed, in rock, for the world to see, and feel..... forever.

I wish I could dance on a big stage.
A combination of ballet, salsa and contemporary. Throw in a jumpy jive too, while I'm at it.
It'd be an exhilarating, new choreography, fresh and meaningful. Wear a beautiful dress, one with tassels and a flare. A dress that would encircle the waist with each spin and then flare out. And silver stilettos. The dance, the music, the theme would thrill the audience, draw them in, and leave them with a feeling of having made the best investment of money. The critics would describe it as "Sensational" and aspiring dancers would emulate. And it's essence would be captivating, and used in creative forms, to entice... and so would erupt a feeling, that could only be described as indescribable.

I wish I could be whisked away.
To an exotic location. With exotic food.
And spend the evening dining with a man, who is head over heels in love with me.
We'd discuss literature, movies, life, him, me and all that with potential of making the experience unforgettable. Oh, and there would be flirting too. The witty, classy type. And the plain cheesy. He'd wear the perfect shade of white. And have the mischievous, lop-sided, dimpled grin that would melt my heart. And then he'd ask me to dance, and we'd end the evening with a rumba on Celine Dion's Falling into You.

I wish I could live a million lifetimes in each breath.
I wish each emotion could be wholly expressed.
I wish my words could be written into a book.

I wish I could strike a chord within your heart.
I wish you'd smile when you saw me laugh.
I wish my glow could light your way.

I wish I could live on in your dreams...
And be unforgettable...
If not for a lifetime, you'd at least remember me,
For that small, flitting grain of time

Manhood and Haha-ness

2009-12-12T15:59:00.005+05:30

So there's a group of three guys and a girl hanging out one night. The usual gibbering lead to an interesting topic. The talk was regarding the killing of dolphins off the coast of Denmark, by young teens, as a sign of attaining maturity and proving their manhood.

The conversation went something like this.....

Girl: Sick man. That's just appalling.

Guy1, Guy2, Guy3: I know. Sick.

Long Pause.

Guy1: Sick.

Long pause.

Girl: Well, if they really want to prove their manhood, they should just get a girl pregnant. She gets pregnant, and there, you have cleared all doubts. Done.

Guy1: Actually!!

Guy2: Hmm..true!

Guy3: Really!

Pause.

Guy3(while looking up at the ceiling): But then the human rights activists would come running.....

Girl: I didn't mean forcefully dude!!

Uproarious laughter.

**The Dolphin killing in Denmark is probably true.

2009-12-11T02:05:00.002+05:30

I can't understand why people make such a big deal out of their first love.

Is it not your last love that's important?

That's the one that lasts.

And I shall believe...

2009-12-10T23:59:00.002+05:30

I'm an ardent believer of positive thinking. I believe in laughing loud.
I believe it when they say all ends well.
I believe it when they say every moment in life is worth cherishing.

I clap when the hero rescues the damsel from a cruel, disgusting looking villain. ( No, I don't believe he can save the world. I'm sensible that way).
And I believe in happily ever afters.

Hell, I'll believe any sappy-triumphant story you tell me. Be it of life, love, humanity, compassion, ambition.

And then I realize I don't live in a three hour motion picture.

I see that sometimes it's too late for all to be well.

And some moments in life are better best forgotten.

I see that heroes get sidelined by caste, creed, and money.

And a happily ever after... is like an adult version of the Santa Claus.

I see that mere resolve fails to make a heroic story. And deciding to save the world or whatever you hold in the highest esteem, doesn't happen by you saying, "Hold on, I'm coming!".

But you probably knew that already.

I, however, stubbornly refuse to give up my right of clapping, cheering, and saying, "Ha! I told you so!".. because you see...

Even if it's lie...
Say it will be alright...
And I shall believe....

A warm fuzzy memory

2009-10-30T00:09:00.002+05:30

There is something inherently fond about memories. And something pleasantly unpredictable.
Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, beneath layers of information, lies this small little movie clip of your life, shot at some arbit point in time, which is capable of sending warm fuzziness throughout your entire being.

It makes you glow and smile, probably looking like an idiot to a third person, or even a second person, but who cares? Give me that tingly sentimental funny feeling anytime.

I feel simply awesome having all these pictures in my head. Those "Oh my god, did I just say that?", the "This is NOT happening to me", the "This is happening to ME? ME!", the "Yey! I Did it!", the "Why god Why", the "I love life!", the "Whee" moments, the "Hmpf" moments, the "Awww.." moments, and the.. sigh.

They come scented, they emote. They let us hold on to our past, while defining our future.
Snapshots of us, once upon a time, when we dared to do something spectacular, something remarkable..

Something that was worthy enough... of becoming a warm fuzzy memory.

Riddle me...

2009-10-17T18:13:00.003+05:30

You riddle me with these questions,
Of what a future can hold,
Curious, my mind begins to wonder,
How these mysteries will finally unfold

You riddle me on my dreams,
And if I really can seize the day,
Defensive, my mind begins to go over,
The actions that have led me this way

You riddle me on my thoughts,
Like you can see the drama in which they play,
Befuddled, my mind begins to muse about,
The transparency I seem to portray

You riddle me with these questions,
Of what's said and done, the right and wrong,
And then I try to explain it to you,
And you smile, like you have known the answers all along

Unwritten...

2009-10-17T00:19:00.003+05:30

I am unwritten....
Can't read my mind...
I'm undefined...

I'm just beginning...
The pen's in my hand...
Ending unplanned...

Staring at the blank page before you...
Open up the dirty window...
Let the sun illuminate the words...
That you can not find...

Reaching for something in the distance...
So close, you can almost taste it...
Release your inhibitions...

It is simply brilliant how some words can reach right into your heart, mind, or whatever that little something is that defines you, and touch you to the extent of giving you goosebumps.

Whenever I listen to this song, I imagine myself flying freely, unbound, and light as a feather.

High over the hustles of daily life, of inhuman expectations, of gigantic ambitions, that float as a cloud in my mind.

Way over the fear of failure, of loss, of unrequited love, of if and buts.

Somewhere, where reasons are not needed because everything falls into its nice little niche.

Feel the rain on your skin...
No one else can feel it for you...
Only you can let it in...
No one else..

It allows me to feel uninhibited, even when things are askew.

It makes me feel like dancing, makes me forget what happened yesterday, day before, last week, last month, last year.

It stops me from wondering about what might happen tomorrow, and how it could change things for me.

It allows me to savour that moment, that transient moment, moments, minute, time.

It speaks to me.
It boosts me.
And it puts a big fat smile on my face, raring to go laugh at the world, for the little jokes it plays.

It overwhelms me with an intangible feeling of confidence, of self respect, of power.

Of worth.

No one else..
can speak the words on your lips..
Drench yourself in words unspoken..
Live your life with arms wide open..

Today is..
where your books begins...

The rest is still unwritten...

And I keep writing...

*Unwritten is a song by Natasha Bedingfield.

A little something

2009-09-14T20:33:00.004+05:30

There's always a little something inside of us.
A little something that keeps talking to us. That keeps evaluating us.
That judges, praises, punishes, pushes.

A little something that makes us unique.
A little something that sets us apart.
A little something that makes others love us.
A little something that allows a peek into us.

A little something made out of everyday experiences.
Of ephemeral emotions. Of passing thoughts. Of impacting words.

A little something strung by fleeting memories.
By secret dreams. By rising ambitions. By unflagging hope.

A little something fed from conflicting observations.
From self realisations. From worldly proverbs. From momentous principles.

A little something grown through revelation.
Through redemption. Through fortitude. Through incitement.

A little something that has survived hurt.
Disappointment. Ecstasy. Agony. Anxiety.

A little something that leads to great beginnings.
A little something that ensures a satisfying end.

A little something that grows bigger everyday.
But a little something which will always be little, in these many ways.

Release...

2009-07-31T22:34:00.002+05:30

Release me of these feelings,
None that I understand,
This sadness and this longing,
An emptiness that keeps haunting

Release me from the tears,
that fall free from my eyes,
Release me of this illusion,
that one day you would be mine

Release me from these pangs,
that I hide behind a smile
Release me of this hollowness,
that suddenly awakes at night

Release me of your hold,
this power you seem to have,
Release me of this notion,
that if I go, you'd be sad

Release me of that day,
when I told you how I felt,
Release me of this regret,
the blow that I've been dealt

Release me of the urge,
to tell you what I feel,
Release me of thinking,
of a dream that can't be real

Release me from this self,
Release me from this phase,
Release me from this losing battle,
that I fight everyday

The Lil Mermaid

2009-07-14T01:01:00.007+05:30

Utterly romantic, silly, naive,
the girl in her, spun and weaved,
magic in every dream she dreamt,
trusted her heart, wherever it went

Ways of the world, crooked and twisted,
Ruthless acts and words so pointed,
Neither she skipped nor danced nor laughed,
Neither she knew, how to mend a broken heart

She fell and bruised, and nights she cried,
Wished upon the stars, their light belied,
She tried to turn her heart to stone,
But so many feelings, would quickly unfold

Soon, a gentle calm she felt,
a little whisper, to her it said,
In Trials, Life isn't about giving up hope,
neither sitting nor standing, just staying afloat

Laugh louder when happy, and cry to ease the pain,
A truth sought effort, never goes in vain,
Companions you'll meet, while you trod along the way,
Some will travel with you, some just a day

Then the peace within you, will stand you against the storm,
it's not a miracle, and definitely not a lucky charm,
it's a gift to you, by a power so strong,
an inner self, an inner strength reborn

* I'm sure you are wondering.... why that title? ;) *

I love...

2009-07-13T20:44:00.005+05:30

I love how you try to hide your yawn, when I'm talking too much...

I love that you think my hair is like my personality...

I love when you act crazy with me on the phone...

I love how you enjoy talking in baby language with me..

I love the way you get excited at the idea of us on a road trip...

I love the way you yell my name when you meet me...

I love how you always give me the bigger piece of chocolate...

I love how innocent you act when I catch you doing so...

I love how a lead character reminds you of me...

I love how you make it a point to tell me about the latest book you have read...

I love how you think my life is an adventure when the reality of it is otherwise...

I love how you make up new nicknames for me, because you don't want to call me what others do...

I love how you sleep on my swing, waiting for me to get home...

I love how you blame your camera for making me look fat...

I love how you say I'm family...

I love how you say your heart breaks when I'm not at a party...

I love the fact that you like me being shorter to you...

I love how you ask me where all I'm going to take you when you come into town...

I love how you tousle my hair when you feel proud of me..

I love how you crib when I say no to a plan...

I love how you call me to discuss a brilliant game of tennis...

I love how you flirt with me...

I love when you demand something to eat. And then apologise for it...

I love the fact that we wear the same size...

I love how you can come over, at anytime...

I love how you let me blame your phone, when the line disconnects...

I love how you make my favourite meal when you feel I've had a bad day...

I love how you call me to say my favourite movie is on...

I love how quiet you get when you think you have hurt me...

I love how you convince me of myself...

I love how angry you get when I feel I'm not worth it...

I love how you delete pictures of me I don't like...

I love how you make me laugh...

I love the fact that you want an autographed copy of my first book...

I love how you complete my sentences...

I love how happy you get when I praise a song you recommended...

I love how you smile when I give you a spontaneous hug...

I love how you send me a message first thing in the morning, when you miss my call at night...

I love how insatiably curious you get when I say, "I have to tell you something!"...

I love when you ask me if I'm awake, before you call at night...

I love how you keep changing the radio stations so I won't be bored while driving...

I love how you hold my hand while crossing...

I love the way you look at me when I'm involved in a movie...

I love how much thought you put into buying me a gift...

I love how you help me clean my room after a sleepover...

I love the fact that you pick up something for me when you go shopping...

I love how you console me when I feel heartbroken...

I love how you listen to my opinion while making an important decision...

I love how you worry that I don't get enough rest...

And

I love that you have read till the end.

*To the 'You' s who make each day special. This is my thank you*

Slipping away.....

2009-05-07T21:51:00.002+05:30

Slipping away...
to revive a paradise lost...
Into the depth of my mind,
my labyrinth of thoughts

Slipping away...
to sleep in a bed of wishes...
Into a cocoon of warmth,
and pleasant little niches

Slipping away...
far from a reality that bites...
Into another sought,
of sunshine bright light

Slipping away....
I now realise who's me...
I travel my own path,
I wasn't born to follow thee

Of that can be.....

2009-01-24T01:35:00.005+05:30

A thought a minute,
every day, every night,
Smiles and tears,
of happiness and fright

The silent longing,
The wish, the hoping
Light, then darkness
Rising and falling

Caught in a cage,
of the minds own,
This love, this want,
To have and to hold

And the eyes speak,
what wishes to be said,
The heart then flutters,
from the touch it lead

Such are these feelings,
powerful to be shown,
Yet daring to go beyond
Times barriers unknown

So set sail,
In a realm of dreams,
A journey then begins,
Of possibilities

Ache

2009-01-20T22:55:00.005+05:30

A million stars sparkled in the sky.
I stood alone. I stared. Their beauty lost on me.

And a part of me ached.

Not the heart wrenching kind, when you cry till you have no tears left.
But the kind in which the tears stay in your eyes, unnoticed, unless someone looks closely.

The dull, soft kind.

The kind that stays with you for small periods of time. Everyday.

The kind you talk yourself out of, only to be reminded once before you sleep.
And once when you wake up.

The kind that you smile through, so no one thinks you are weak.
So you don't think you are weak.

The kind that makes you wish you could turn back time, take back words, and change your feelings.

The kind that proves irony.

The kind that makes every moment enjoyed, larger than life, yet fleeting.

The kind that lets you breathe, but never that deep.

But it is also....

The kind that makes you accept.

The kind that empowers in the strangest of ways.

The kind that makes you fearless even while losing the battle.

The kind that makes you appreciate the beauty of honesty.

The kind that shows you the power of love.

The kind that makes you believe in a better tomorrow simply because you lived truly.....your today.

The meaning of friendship on a cold winter morning....

2008-12-14T12:16:00.003+05:30

Early morning. Sometime around 6:15 AM.

Maybe I should just call it off. It's too cold in the morning to climb a hill. And too early too. Plus, I was having such a nice dream. I should call it off. Think, think of an excuse. Hmm, I'm sick. No, I..err... I hurt myself. But how? Naa... I overslept. Yes. Perfect. Believable too. I'm sure it's expected from me. It's so convenient being myself at times.

I stared at the ceiling above. I tried falling back to sleep, by snuggling deeper into my blanket and trying to remember what I was dreaming about. But, it was of no use. As expected, the phone rang.

"You awake right?", she asked.

"Ofcourse. As fresh as a daisy!", I chirped.

"Really? Anyway, see you at 7. SHARP!", she said.

"Ofcourse! I'm up and ready. Well, still got to brush, but don't you worry. I'll be there.", I sang into the phone.

I rolled in my bed for a few minutes, contemplating actually getting out.

Get up. It's good to be awake early in the morning. Exercise. Health is wealth. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man, sorry woman,healthy, wealthy and wise. Wow, I mused, my brain is gender correct in the morning. I was mildly impressed with myself.

By the time, I got out of bed, exactly 30 seconds after the completion of the "Healthy, Wealth, Wise" thought, I was singing and dancing. I spun. I bounced. I made faces in the mirror and admired the messy out of bed look.

I shouldn't comb my hair today. Look at those curls. There might be a very good looking guy hiking. Do good looking guys climb the hill in the morning?Ah, I might just get lucky. I look so happy. Bubbly bubbly. Is pink champagne really that tasty? Damn, dry skin. Where is that new lotion Mom bought? Hm.. shoot.. time to brush.

I brushed my teeth in rhythm to the latest Hindi pop songs.

I should go clubbing.But nothing beats bathroom dancing.

After I was assured I had done justice to my teeth and gums, I rummaged through my wardrobe to find something warm to wear.

God, Mom is right. I DO have too many clothes. Where's the red sweater?

I was ready when I received the customary "I'm leaving, you better be there when I reach" missed call.

As I stepped into the cold winter morning, I was instantly happier! It was a beautiful morning. Blue sky and I could make those fog cloud thingies. You know where you exhale and there's a nice cloud formation in front of your mouth? Ok yeah, so you know.

I skipped. Smiling to myself. I probably looked like an idiot, but I honestly didn't care. As long as there was no good looking guy around which, after an extensive survey of the neighbourhood, I knew wasn't.

I reached on time, and did a small victory dance for myself. Minutes later, my friend joined me and we started hiking.

Our talks were the usual.
Life. Friends. Parents. Movies. Romance. Boys. Money. Marriage. THE boy.

We laughed, remembering the silly things of the past. We took each others case over the stupid things we had done, and congratulated each other on the small, non-significant achievements which only your friends can truly appreciate.

These talks, however common they are, take a different, steeper meaning when you are with someone who has been with you for a long time and has seen you change, and appreciated the same.

There was nothing extraordinary in that morning maybe. I'm sure the sky was always as blue, and the wind just as cold, and morning air just as clean. I'm also sure we didn't speak about things we had never spoken about before or already knew.

We walked the same route, stopped at the same place, and drank chai at the same shed.

And yet, suddenly, everything felt lighter and brighter.

Pure friendship. A nice thing, I tell you.

Carpe Diem

2008-10-29T00:50:00.003+05:30

I think about Now.
And it all seems Alright.

But then a thought about the Future
just turns off the Light.

I'm not a person who worries,
I'd live without a Care,
but this Future makes me uneasy,
It spoils my Everyday

Calling those who "Carpe Diem" for an inspiring conversation.....

:)

2008-10-04T19:11:00.001+05:30

Rollicking laughter,
Peals of joy
Silly, funny,
Times enjoyed

Silence, whispers,
Secrets shared
Living the present,
Past uncared

Richness, greatness,
Dreams galore
Happy, smiling,
But hungry for more

The thing

2008-09-11T20:18:00.006+05:30

"You still have this?!?", she asked incredulously.

"Yes, why?"

"It's so old! Didn't think you'd still have it around!", she said.

"Why not? What did you expect? That I'd throw it away?", I being incredulous now.

"Well, YEAH!", she exclaimed.

I frowned.

"I mean, it is nice. But that's about it! Does it even serve any purpose now? Plus, it takes up so much space! It's always in the way! Don't you think you're better off without it?", she asked.

I scowled.

"Welcome to the modern world honey!Nice doesn't cut it anymore! You need fast, efficient, functional! Time for an upgrade! And YOU are the one in the techie industry. YOU are supposed to keep pace.But you act like an, what do they call it, obsolete version?", she laughed.

"It's pathetic how you try to make techie jokes. Leave it to us geeks! Not that I'm implying I'm a geek".

She smirked.

"But that's besides the point. It's not about it being old, and serving some purpose, which by the way it did, some time ago. But... I've grown used to it. I'm... comfortable with it. It's comfortable".

I paused.

"And, I'm not a geek!"

"Correction! It was comfortable! I mean, look at it. The thing is..is... oh, its horrible! And the only one who seems to care about having it around is YOU. God alone knows why.Have you seen what the world has been coming up with while you decide to stay loyal to this... thing?!", she asked.

"It's not a thing!"

"OH MY GOD! It IS a thing!". She punched it. "See, NO feelings!"

"Well, yes, that way it is a thing."

"O.k, I'm waiting for you to start making sense here. And I'd love it if you hurried up!"

"Fine... but I don't see the point, because you aren't really going to agree. But here goes, ...I've had that "thing" around for a long time. I remember I was so excited when I first got it! I sat with it for a whole month! I was addicted! I thought it was the best thing ever! Absolutely fabulous, and way ahead of it's time! And though, it has become outdated?... I still like it. It reminds me... of how happy I used to get playing around with it. Hey, don't look at me like that! It's perfectly normal to get attached to "things"! It's only human! And you are one to talk! You kept that silly old..."

"OOOOKAY! Don't get started on that now! One thing I tell you and you never let me live it down!The embarassment just never ends!"

I giggled.
She sighed.

"I'm not saying it's unnatural to get attached to things. Hell, I do! But there's no point in doing so, if it ends up being a pain!See, you try fixing this thing like every month. It's fine for sometime, and then it's baccck to square one. And you get upset, because you have spent so much time, energy, money on it, so you expect it to run fine, but that thing doesn't give two hoots does it? DOES IT?" she said, actually yelled the last bit.

"Well.... maybe if I tried...."

"NO! No try, I beg of you. Just junk it. We'll go shopping today!Babe, you have not seen what's out there! We live in a very cool world. And you want to act Nomadic. I mean, the whole cave woman thing is sexy, but not in this context."

"Hmmm...."

"As in, you can try the whole wild ...."

"I know what context you meant it in!"

"Oh ok."

We laughed.

"So, you are junking it right? Please throw that thing out, I can't stand the sight of it!"

"I guess you are right. It does demand a lot of attention. And it is not at all co operative. And I don't like non co operation. From anything", I winked.

"Now you're talking! Ooo yeah ooo yeahh!!"

"You are an idiot!"

"I'm just happy!You are silly.Crazy!"

"The respect is mutual"

"Sooo... what are you going to buy? I saw this really cool one the other day, it was so hot!"

"Hot?"

"Yes, H-O-T. Like hot man. What you asking "Hot"?"

"I thought "things" couldn't be hot!"

"Anything can be hot!"

"Agreed!"

** A modified conversation.
A pretense. A story.
Inspired. True.
Said it................Said 'nuff **

Life...and some music....

2008-09-08T00:24:00.003+05:30

"
I've been swimming in a sea of anarchy
I've been living on coffee and nicotine
I've been wondering if all the things I've seen
Were ever real, were ever really happening

Everyday is a winding road
I get a little bit closer
Everyday is a faded sign
I get a little bit closer to feeling fine
"

We sang on the top of our voices. We sang without caring if the neighbours heard us, if we were off key, if we lost our voices.

Completely surrendered to the song and to Sheryl Crows view on life.

It felt nice that somebody famous could be so relatable. If thats a word.

And of course, we were not on nicotine.

We all knew that we'd have to go back to our "life" but it felt good to be away from it. Not to be mistaken as depressed. We didn't have anything to be seriously unhappy about. But we were tired. Tired of explanations, tired of thinking of answers, tired of planning, and tired of wondering why it had to happen to us.

We didn't care about "what-if"s. We had silenced those by honesty.
We didn't care about "could have"s. We had the answer.
We didn't care about learning a lesson. We knew how it was taught.

We didn't care about anything we usually cared about.
And we knew we'd probably care too much about not caring too.

The tough thing about life is, going through a same set of emotions which you truly believed you would never have to go through again. It's like telling the same stories, wearing a different dress.

The only difference is, good or bad still undecided, we knew we'd sail through it. We knew that certain things can not be changed through the power of will. And certain things can not be expressed through the power of words.

And we certainly knew, that it was never easy to know if you had done the right thing or not.

We knew that, besides having each other, we'd have to reunite with a lost friend, Faith, again. And we prayed that Hope would not mind too much. We made a great team.

"You guys make me have so much fun" said one of us.

The song had changed.

"
Even if it's a lie, say it will be alright,
And I shall believe....
"
Dayumn.
That woman does know all.

* To those who have been there, done that. You know who you are *

2008-03-27T15:09:00.005+05:30

I analyze almost as much as I breathe.

Every situation. Every emotion.

You. Myself. Everyone.

But mostly me.

I wonder if what I feel is right.
I wonder if what I feel is allowed.
I wonder if what I feel is correct.

Yet, I don' t stop feeling.

I make rules for myself. I try to behave.

Yet, I choose to be free spirited.

I choose my words. I control my actions.

Yet, I make mistakes.

I fear of getting hurt. I fear of heartbreak.

Yet, I say "I love you"

I seek attention. I crave company.

Yet, I never want to ask for it.

At the end of the day, I tell myself to be practical.

Yet, I continue to be impulsive.

I go through many emotions, each one I promise will be the last.

Yet, each time it feels as though it's the first.

I console myself saying I'm like everyone else.

Yet, at times I feel all alone.

Analyze then introspect.

Then I realize I can not be anyone else but me.

Predictably unpredictable.

Unpredictably predictable.

A Pure Paradox.

Yours Truly.

2008-01-17T00:36:00.000+05:30

I sat in front of him. Looking down. Then out of the window. My eyes darted between looking at my half eaten sandwich and the coffee house window, carefully avoiding his face.
Carefully avoiding him.

My face was calm. Every hair neatly in place. It all effectively concealed the raging emotions, conflicting questions that had taken over my mind.

He would never know. He could never know.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat. I looked at him. With a steady, unwavering gaze devoid of any weak sentiment.

He smiled.

"So, what have you been upto? How have you been? ", he asked.

How have I been ? Did he just ask me how I have been?

I wanted to yell at him, yell at his lame attempt to strike a normal conversation.

Instead, I lied.

"I've been good. How about you?", I replied.

He relaxed a little. I hated him for that. He had no right to relax. Not after what he had done. Or rather, what he had failed to do.

"It's good, met up with a couple of school friends the other day. Felt nice. Thinking of going up North to meet relatives this coming May. Work is anyway light, that time of the year", he said.

I nodded. My mind was still engaged in processing those thousand questions, that were begging to be hurled at him, begging for an explanation.

He spoke on. About his work, his ambitions.

I nodded. Almost mechanically. Flashing him a pseudo sincere smile occasionally.

My mind wouldn't let up.

Why did you leave ? Am I not pretty enough ? Maybe I'm not smart enough ? Do you never think about all those times ? What about all those things you said ? Do I mean anything to you?

He mentioned something about moving away. Meeting his grandparents.

You always move away. I shuddered at the force of that statement.

And then he said something I wasn't prepared for.

"I'm scared", he said. "I don't think I can handle it, you know how long she's been suffering. I can't see her like this. I'm not strong enough."

I looked up, directly into his eyes. And I gulped. He was really scared. Scared of losing his loved one. Scared of accepting that he couldn't do anything about it.

Now you know how I felt. How it hurts. How it pains. And how you need someone, to just say it's going to be alright.

This could be my chance. My chance to teach him a lesson. To make him realize. It would only take one sentence. And it would hit him hard. I just had to....

"You'll be fine", I reached over and patted his hand, and smiled reassuringly. "She's going to make it, believe me. You just hang in there!"

I knew, in that fraction of a second, that I would never know the answers to my questions. I'll never know what went wrong. What he was thinking then, and whether our relationship ever meant anything to him. Whether he thought about me while he was away, or whether he wondered how I was doing.

All I knew was, he needed a friend. And I had to be one.

I played my part well. And I played it honestly. And I sealed those feelings, away in a small box somewhere deep, in the back of my mind.

He left, after a couple of days. And he promised to keep in touch. I just listened, knowing very well, that I would probably never hear from him, once he reached his destination.

I knew I had done the right thing, to reach out and help.
Unfortunately doing that right thing, doesn't always provide the relief you'd think it would.

I knew I had no other choice.I knew that my feelings, however agonizing, had no place to be voiced.

But knowing doesn't mean forgetting.

And moving on is always easier said than done.

*Work of fiction. Resemblance to my life is purely due to your unnecessary interpretation. Enjoy it merely as a piece of writing*

2007-10-21T00:51:00.000+05:30

Emotions conflicting,
disturbing, depressing.
The people around move,
unknowing, uncaring.

My skin feels second,
my mind seems lost.
Reasons are a million,
no sense at all.

When you say nothing at all

2007-08-09T23:24:00.000+05:30

" You say it best,
When you say nothing at all"

I doubt the above mentioned lines need introduction. They are from the much famous song by Ronan Keating (OST of Notting Hill, a hit movie owing to it's attractive Brit hunk, and no I'm not talking about Spike ) sung in a romantic-emotions evoking voice. The classic mushy make -your - heart melt song. And it makes me go "Aaawwww"

Yeh, I'm a fan of the song. My friends tease me over the fact, that no guy will ever find it appropriate to dedicate the song to me, because I usually DO have something to say. I snarl in return. Okay, so I resort to vicious expressions when words fail, but it still falls under the "Saying nothing at all" category. It does!

But they joke, and I ignore. See, saying nothing at all again. And I dream about that bench in the park. The blue house. The handsome Brit hunk. ( No, not Spike! Geez! ) And I smile to myself and say Someday.....

But, reality is quite different than that described by a chart topper. And such discoveries don't take time to sink in.

It, honestly, sucks having nothing to say. Almost suffocating. Like defeat, where you console yourself saying that maybe, just maybe, your silence will make some difference. But then, that's just wishful thinking. And lots of willpower.

It stifles, not being able to express. And not being able to express usually stems from knowing and accepting that what you say won't matter. And that's pretty harsh.

It's better, I guess, to say something wrong. You can apologize later. It's best to say something right. An ego boost, plus instant trust.

Of course, saying nothing at all is different than "choosing" not to say anything. The latter at least leaves you with a feeling of doing good by keeping mum. Having nothing to say at all, that's resignation of thought. Loss of influence. Loss of worth.

It's when you try hard to divert, distract and adopt the " It really doesn't matter to me" attitude. You lie to yourself, though deep down you know you have been beaten.

Romantic or not, I'd rather not have " speechless" moments. I would prefer having the capacity to utter a "Wow", "Amazing", "Oh god!" in situations, rather than be overwhelmed by emotions of disturbing, conflicting nature and build a wall around myself.

I'm sure Paul Overstreet and Don Schlitz did not want me to feel this way. They did include a smile on the face and truth in eyes in the lyrics, and I probably should have let that soothe my agitation. But, that's just me, putting in my two pence.

What do you have to say?

The thing about girls...

2007-07-09T02:12:00.000+05:30

Well I'm surprised I never wrote on this topic before! Having been the crush-er, the crush-ee, the cupid, the adviser, and the sympathetic shoulder!

The few things said. Sure most girls can relate ;) Guys can well .... enjoy!

Scenario #1

A : You so like him!
B : No I don't! He is such an ass I tell you! I hate him.
A : Yeah, right! You love him!
B : Idiot! Can't he just reply once! *sigh*
A : *laugh* You are so into this guy!
B: I hate him okay? Now shut up!

Or it could be like....

Scenario # 2

A : So, I heard someone has a crush!?
B : Who who?
A : You!
B : *blush*
A : I do think you are gonna go out with him!He's perfect! He's much better than all those other losers you had crush on! It's gonna work out!
B : Don't jinx it!

or

Scenario # 3

A: Man! He's adorable!
B: Oooohhh..!! So just ask him out!
A: I can't!
B: Why not? Are you too chicken? *giggles*
A: Noooo.... there's another girl!
A + B: Bitch!

or....

Scenario # 4

A: He thinks of me as a good friend
B: Ewww
A: I know... this sucks!
B: Hey, his best friend is kinda cute too you know...
A: Yeah? Actually....

and finally...

Scenario # 5

A: He thinks you are not his type
B: Hello? I'm a girl! How can I NOT be his type?
A: Gay?
B: I'm gonna die single!

I'm expecting comments on this one... :)

2007-07-08T15:23:00.001+05:30

The eyes behold
the dreams of a mind
A spirit wishes
to be immortalized

Don't steal my dreams
Don't say it's a lie
Let me breathe
I feel alive

The week that was....and one that will be

2007-07-08T14:03:00.000+05:30

I landed a job.

My best friend got an Airtel.
( Money has suddenly become more important to me. Saving it that is )

Taj Mahal is one of the New Seven Wonders.

I will be...

Shopping

Drinking champagne on my cousins 25th birthday

Getting away

2007-05-09T02:27:00.000+05:30

Situations show you your true friends.

I'm glad I always saw right.

Dance away

2007-04-26T19:02:00.000+05:30

I stood in pose.
Head down.
Hands rested on my thighs.
Hip jutted.
A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E.
The word flashed in my mind.
My shoulders became straighter.
I stood taller.

I could hear the C.D. being inserted and the whirring sound it made before the head found the right track. Time to move.

Choreographing this song had been the best experience. It was supposed to be a "sexy" song, and initially, had sent all of us into peals of laughter and had caused a lot of blushing. Now...well....

It started off in a freestyle. We moved and swayed to the music, throwing occasional se..xy..., oh who am I kidding, with pursed lips, narrowed eyes, and loud movements, we were trying to look our sexiest best. I never dared to steal a glance at the guys during this one minute. It was a frightening thought.

Freeze. The girls on either side moved ahead. I followed suit.

One, two, three, four. Step. Step.

Don't stop, don't stop, hissed the girl singing the song.

Butt shake. I stifled a smile. A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E flashed in my mind again.

The song slowed down to a sultry beat, and we went on all fours and crawled ahead. The next step was lovingly termed the "babuji" step by all of us. Man, that Yana Gupta sure made this one look easy.

Twist, twist, move up.

Walk. One, two, three, look over shoulder, four.

Don't stop, don't stop.

Hips sashayed to the music, sending the edge of a flouncy skirt slightly high. Instinctively, four pairs of male eyes glanced in that direction. Boys will be boys.

The music stopped with a final plea of Don't stop, don't stop.

We stood in attention, waiting for the hip hop number to start. I loved this song. It was upbeat, energetic, and sporty. It made you bounce around the place, and the first few days were spent in getting the light spring in every step. It had jerks, swift moves, all oozing out punkish vibes. It made you feel light and carefree while moving. Plus, this sequence had a snazzy mix of Indian jhatkas and Western pump.

The irregular moves now gave way to technically perfect moves for Sean Paul's Temperature. Each move had to be well defined, and perfectly timed.

More hip shakes. More spins. The guys really had strenuous moves. Falls, push -ups, almost like a work out regime!

I got da right temperature to shelter you from da storm....

One, two, three, cross, left, right, move across.
Head, hip, shake, turn
left, right, pose, turn

The guys then took us by the waist and sent us spinning into the centre.

One spin, two spin. stop.

oh I wanna be da Papa...You can be da Mom....oh oh!

Right leg out, one step in, left, right, shake that thing. :P

With one swift movement, the final positions were taken.

Applause.

The choreographer dude then corrected some of us. New positions were decided. Costumes changed.

I was on a high. My mind had nothing but bits and pieces of the various songs mixed in it, creating a soundtrack of my own. My breath was shallow and my limbs ached. Sweat dripped slowly down my back. Loose tendrils of hair stuck on my cheeks.

Once more, he yelled.

I got into position.

I snuck a peek at the watch.

It was just 7 A.M.

2007-04-20T20:15:00.000+05:30

At times, I am the shoulder. And then, I need one.
I seek inspiration.
I don't think being taken for granted is a sign of true friendship.
It puzzles me why saying and doing the right thing is always so difficult.
It is easier hiding behind a facade.
Sometimes, I cry myself to sleep. And sometimes, I'm too excited to close my eyes.
It happens to only some of us.
No one can hear a heart breaking.
Life is to be smiled at.
Friends are hard to find.
Memories keep me smiling.
Mercurial.
There are a million things that go through my mind and there are million things I want to say. At times, I wish to say nothing at all.
I'm here but not really.
Whoever said it's hard to break a friendship had no idea what he was talking about.
Things are easily forgotten. Feelings easily ignored.
We are selfish people.
Parents are the world.
New York would be an amazing city to live in.
Moments of clarity are often delusional.
Friendship is tolerance.
Trust is an oxymoron.
Loneliness breeds introspect.

I had to say something. I have no idea where I got lost

2007-04-02T17:12:00.000+05:30

There it stood. Tall. In all its glory.

Beautiful.

Mesmerizing.

Enchanting.

A rose.

It made everyone stop and stare. A second look definitely.
Kids called it pretty. Females cooed. Men admired.

Pompous and vain.
But gorgeous nevertheless.

The ordinary ferns on either side enhanced its appeal.

Attractive. Alluring.

But it wasn't long before it started shedding. Wilting.
With that came a pervasive noisome odor.

The odor that reeked of dying vanity, and short lived glamour.

I always wonder why I love roses.
.

2007-03-31T00:36:00.000+05:30

A double game,
of mind and heart,
Joy and ecstasy,
or a crash and fall

A fleeting glance,
a simple smile,
the touch of your hand,
the sound of your voice

Trust over betrayal,
reserved and coy,
emotions overwhelm,
as hearts entwine

A bond can be grown,
or tears can be shed,
Passion and love,
or agony and regret ?

5 super heroes a girl must date

2007-01-31T20:05:00.000+05:30

I love The Incredibles. Absolutely love them. They are fun. They are cool. AND they wear my favourite colour - RED!

Super heroes rock.

As a child, they provide you inspiration by fighting off evil. As a teenager, they provide you a mental sketch of your perfect guy.(I'm the Spiderman type.Ahem. MJ- get it? :P ) And once you get married, they probably make you look at your ordinary, pot-bellied husband with certain amount of disdain.

Super heroes rock.

And here's a compilation of five of the most date-worthy super-men....

1) Superman

Ever feared the day you'll introduce your beau to your parents? It's like nothing seems appropriate enough. And you can just about imagine the scowl on your parents face when you start off with "Mom, dad, I'd like you to meet......", or even "Hey mom and dad! Remember how you used to always say, someday you'll find the right guy? weeelllll.... ::big grin and suggestive eyes:: ...", or "Mom and Dad.Meet _______. I'm kinda, okay, like sorta like seeing him?".

Everything just spells out failure.

WHICH is why Superman becomes guy - to - date # 1. Why? Imagine your parents going "It's a bird! It's a plane! It's supppppeerrrrrmaaann!!"

And then you, oh so nonchalantly, modestly, offhandedly announce that the bird-plane combo man has grabbed your fancy. Sweet, ain't it?

Ooh, a lil secret. The underpants worn outside are actually a source of power.

Don't ask me how I know.

2) Spiderman

Alright, I have no idea as to how many girls agree with me here, but swinging the alleys of New York on dainty spider-spun thread has always been a secret fantasy of mine.

Plus, any guy who can kiss upside down in rain certainly deserves a piece of my heart.

And yeah, the guy looks good in spandex.

3) Batman

A spin in the bat-mobile is reason enough.

Plus men with a 6 pack wearing black leather are hard to resist. Ah-men!

Oh oh, and Batman's secret identity is Bruce Wayne, who is a philanthropist, playboy, AND a billionaire industrialist. Now how about that?

4)Max Evans

Doubt many know this sensitive, intelligent and intense alien from Antar currently residing in Roswell, New Mexico, USA, Earth, but he is a catch!

With only a deposit of cadmium-X, he can heal you in a minute!

It's like Maxie Poo (I swear some girls say that!) I cut myself! I'm bleeding! And voila, silver hand print and new skin! Makes the whole damsel in distress act more worthwhile too.

*Sigh*

Think the same works on blemishes and flabby skin? Hmm....

5) Zorro

Zorro. The enigmatic Don Diego de la Vega. I'm still trying to get over the way the name rolls off my tongue.

A sensitive swashbuckler who dances the flamenco (or is it the tango? ) like nobody's business!?!
(Still not over the Don Diego de la Vega...and dance is in the picture? )

Zorro, indeed, is vhery vhery vhi-gho-rhous!

Plus, I love the signature 'Z'.

I'll be his Senorita anytime.

And with that, I now return to my world with normal men.

NORMAL men.

I hate normalcy.

2007-01-14T00:25:00.001+05:30

Recently, I discovered that I can be a pain in the ass for myself. Especially when I have no idea what to do. Like now.

Phone calls don't end up lasting more than a few minutes. Music is played but not heard. The ones you have been meaning to avoid are online. There's nothing to watch on T.V. Radio talks about broken relationships. The refrigerator provides no junk food. All the movie CDs are kept in your parents room, which is not accessible at this hour. You have tons to do, but no will to do it. And that just pisses you off more.

I thought and thought of ways to amuse myself. Maybe try dancing, but I was too lazy to get off my ass and move. Singing would not be much appreciated by neighbours. Going out for a drive was not even an option.

I decided to seek solace through the phone. Not that it helped. My three best friends were placed as follows: one in a disc, with a discharged cellphone. The other with a cold and helping a friend with girlfriend issues. And the third was trying to make hand drawn charts for some show and planning a strategy to reach college first and put the lovely creations up. Other few were not reachable, not on talking terms or not worth it.

Then there was the another cheaper and quieter mode. Short message service. But after a while, when I realised people were either more bored or having too much fun to bother about me, even that lost its charm.

So, I had two options..

1) Get to work and start composing my seminar abstract
2) Sulk, crib and sulk?

The second was way more appealing. So I sulked.

Having absolutely no one around to sympathize, I decided I was being an idiot. So even sulking was given up.

Then, desperate to do something, and get rid of the boredom that was now engulfing me in its miserable and pathetic vastness, I decided to BLOG!

Thankfully, I hadn't lost the will to blog yet.

Yes, applaud now! Thank you, thank you, you are too kind! Ok, cut the crap

So, I thought I'll make a list of all the things that cheer me up, hoping to be left in a slightly better frame of mind after I penned everything down....

So here goes nothing....

I love....

1) Dancing in front of the mirror

2) Loud music in the morning

3) Bear hugs

4) Late night calls that last for hours

5) More bear hugs

6) Unwrapping gifts

7) Chocolate - pure chocolate

8) Long drives

9) Wrapping gifts

10) Making popcorn and watching a movie with mom and dad

11) Day dreaming

12) Fighting and making up

13) Shopping

14) Getting together with friends and doing absolutely nothing

15) Waking up to discover that today is NOT a bad hair day!

ok...so this is working.....

16) Cliche, sentimental, sappy movies

17) Realistic, hard-hitting, critically acclaimed movies

18) Huge bouquet of flowers

19) Anything sweet- can be human or edible

20) Random bitching

21) Looking at old photos

22) Writing

23) Reminiscing

24) Acting crazy

25) Silly jokes

26) Tapori Songs

27) Playing pranks

28) Strawberry scented toiletries

29) Uninhibited laughter

30) Feelin' better

Here I go, high on my own......

New Year, New Everything

2007-01-01T20:19:00.000+05:30

New Year. There's something very final and at the same time initial about it. There's excitement. And nostalgia. It's as if you have finished scripting and editing a chapter in your book, and all set to write a new one, though you are completely unaware of what to write.

There's so much you leave behind, though you probably carry much more into the new year.Hopes, ambitions, aspirations, wishes, and good will.As a daughter, you hope your parents find all the happiness they deserve.As a friend, you hope your friends keep laughing and stay sane.For yourself, you wish so many things.In general, you wish the world tries to be a happy place, because that's what everyone deserves.

I think all of us turn into sentimental schmucks this time of the year.We reminisce, we smile, we laugh, we hug, we cry, we cheer, and we partake in every possible merry activity, in hopes that the new year will be brighter, happier and sweeter.

Never has the daily event of night turning into day held so much importance.And never has it given so much anticipation.

The same Sun, we curse every other morning, is now much revered.

Of course, there's a lot that goes into making that one day special. Booking for 'the perfect' place to celebrate starts months in advance with prices doubling every other day.New Years' bashes start advertising themselves, claiming to provide the ultimate party experience.Invitee passes remind you of the importance of having 'superior connections' and every piece of clothing comes with the 'pay more, for less' tag.

With so many choices and opinions, it's not surprising that most of us have no clue as to what to do to welcome the new year.Some of us prefer to have a mellow evening at home, with family and close friends, ending a year of togetherness and starting another, with promises to always be there for each other, no matter what.Others prefer to be in a place that is abuzz with the indescribable New Year vibe.And there are others, like me, who are often torn between hitting the clubs or spending an evening in quiet company.

But no matter how you spend the evening, where you spend it,and with whom you do, the reason for celebrating is, more or less, the same. We all face the New Year with 365 multiplied by age amount of memories, stored somewhere deep within the heart and tucked away in mind, making space for another 365, good, bad or ugly ones.

Frankly speaking, I had lost all hopes of enjoying New Years' after plans of heading down to Goa were canceled.Nothing seemed enjoyable enough. And it all seemed impossible to co-ordinate.I'll spare you the details of how everything eventually worked out, and jump directly to tell you that it will definitely go down as one of the cutest and nicest New Year celebration.I mean, I ended up coming home at 4, so it outta have been fun right? :)

The night, spent in the company of close friends, though I would have preferred few others joining in, was full of laughter, new acquaintances hitting it off, and sharing the best and worst moments of 2006.

2006.It was over.But I could still remember each day as if it were only yesterday.The feelings were still fresh.Incidents, accidents, and moments still clear.Some brought a smile, and some misty eyes.But they all existed, in a sequence, each time stirring the same emotions.

2007.A new notebook, and I just wanted to snatch it, take a pen, and start scribbling before anyone beat me to it.And I already had a memory.

Morning of 2007.My mom, my best friend and I.For the first time, just talking, without any hurry or interruption.We spoke of nothing significant, a few experiences, yet it was the best conversation one could have over a steaming cup of tea.

I don't know what the year ahead will bring.It's inviting and scary.But what I do know is that my super cool parents and crazy friends will still continue to 'unconditionally' love me (aaww come on!), and I'll still be the same ol' me, much wiser of course, but still preferring not to disclose it. :)

The truth is, there is nothing "new" in the year.Everything is just better because we improved.

Is my mirror me?

2006-11-08T19:52:00.000+05:30

This is a further addition to the article I wrote titled 'My mirror is Me'. As I did realise later, while I was going through the blog, that the blame on media for lowering the self-esteem of todays woman might have been slightly extreme. And maybe they should not be held entirely responsible for it. Why? I thought you'd never ask.

O.k, what I guess I want to say is (or now point a finger to ) that the reason for the poor self love might be due to the society and family dynamics, to a larger extent, than media. I think, most of the women today are quite self confident to not let a scantily clad woman on a screen challenge the attractiveness of their proportions. How many of us ACTUALLY care to attract attention by wearing shorts, halters, etc ? Rather, we'd not WANT to attract attention (the sensible ones ) that way, cause it'd be from the wrong people. Before you start with that 'But' you have in your mind, I'd like to say its not that most of us don't like wearing nice, flattering clothes, but please get the distinction between liking to wear them and thinking it absolutely necessary as it is propounded through certain advertisements.

Also, if it were the case that media influenced the sensible thinking woman of today, you'd see hordes of women giving up education and chasing after fairer skin in order to materialize their dreams, as Fair and Lovely states it does. I quite admire the Fair and Lovely advertising campaign. On one side, they distinguish between women, people actually, courtesy introduction of Fair and Handsome (acckk, Mills and Boons fans! Rebel against this! Long live the tall, dark, and handsome hero!), on the basis of skin, yet on the other they showcase a pro-education and women empowerment attitude by sponsoring scholarships. Applause!!

And of course, you have the "K" serials which portray women to be cunning, devilish creatures who work silently, all the time having a weirdly raised eyebrow and painfully pursed lips, to make sure the entire family goes through havoc to prove a petty point. But, neither do most women dress like vamps portrayed in Hindi serials nor act like them (Hell, the slight amount of bitchiness that every woman possesses is just the result of possessing an extra X -chromosome). Most women laugh at these vixens and perceive them as weak characters.

As Femina once rightly put it (while displaying a highly voluptuous figure on its cover page), todays woman is a Woman of substance. ( I guess the well-endowed figure was used to emphasize 'substance'). And yes, women today are pretty much fashion savvy and age defying does have lot of importance. I guess, when you feel good from inside, you wanna look good on the outside too.

So, then where does self-hatred due to a not satisfying outer self appearance stem from? Society? Yes. Family. Definitely. Now when I think about the episode on Oprah, the young children who suffered from the "body beautiful" hype, were in fact emulating their mothers. The young girl who wouldn't leave her house without makeup did so, only because she saw her mother in front of the mirror everyday, with mascara and rouge, grooming herself before she stepped out. And the young child, who thought herself fat and cribbed, was just parroting her mother.

I guess what you realise is, the values that are inculcated by parents during childhood either make you or break you. Media and the "glamour" would have absolutely no adverse effect on a healthy, self-assured, confident personality. However, it does prey on an insecure, weak self perception, driving you to the edge and over into the valley of emotional distress, eating disorders and self abuse.

Change and some other shakes

2006-10-23T01:53:00.000+05:30

There are certain times in your life, which are so powerful and sudden, that they'll leave you completely ripped of all your beliefs, convictions and aspirations. And so challenging are such times, that you feel as if you have lived the life of a complete idiot until now. It's like when you are 10 and believe that the tooth fairy does exist and wait eagerly for your first tooth to fall so you can get the extra buck. Or you actually are nice to the kid you hate most, because you are afraid that Santa is ACTUALLY watching from the North Pole and won't get you anything for Christmas.

Then, by the time you are 12, and have a whole set of new teeth, without any addition to your piggy bank, you realise the tooth fairy is cheap and that Santa can't see all the way from North Pole, because the guy who kept bullying you always got the better gifts for Christmas. (what you didn't know then was the fact that the guy was stinking rich, but that doesn't matter..it still proves the fact that Santa ain't watching).

Later, when you hit adolescence (the most eye-opening years) you start dreaming about the perfect guy, you know the one who is cute, has a great smile (dimples of course!), smart, yada yada yada and has eyes only for you, a guy who thinks you totally rock and though you have no intentions of meeting him immediately ( your parents would kill you) you are pretty sure that one day fate will do her magic and both of you will meet. And you're happy waiting. Till then, you keep yourself busy with girly gossip, PJ parties, school, extra curricular activities, doing well, keeping your rank amongst the first three in class (what an ego boost that is! ), and enjoying life, fancy free!

And then comes that time, the one that will again shake everything, the change. You meet people smarter than you, who can manage stuff better than you, rather who do it better than you. As the 'incompetent' feeling starts to seep in, you turn to your girlfriends for help, the ones who had promised to stick with you through thick and thin, only to realise that promises made at overnight parties and in slambooks are void. Being the damsel in distress, that smart, suave guy you were sure you'd meet has no plans of saving you, or if by chance you do run into him, you soon realise he is busy running around the trees with a much prettier( read dumb) female. And as you're trying to get over the betrayal of your so called true love, your parents start expressing their discontent over your new lifestyle, the pathetic state of your room ( and the fact that EVERYBODY has a messy room is not good enough an excuse ) , and your disregard for responsibility. Yeah, you pretty much lose it there.

And though all of us can relate to this feeling of utter frustration, the time when you do go through it is probably one of the loneliest times ever. Of course, what we don't realise is, that all these tumultuous ups and downs , act as a catalyst in the 'growing up' process. I still remember my first 'unrequited' crush. Looking back, I'm glad it remained unrequited ( I had pretty much a lousy taste in guys . Yeah,okaaayy, stop laughing now) It has improved now. I think. :P

But, as they claim ( I have no idea who 'they' refers to, lets just go by popular belief) , every struggle in nature results in evolution ( hell, I have no idea if that has ever been said, I just sorta came up with that one, so lemme explain with examples) so, going on, for example, a butterfly struggles out from the chrysalis, only to be set free. A child struggles to get on all four, only to later learn how to crawl and then walk. Each struggle in Nature results in the better adaptation of the individual to the surroundings.

Similarly, the mental struggles of an individual are not an unfortunate incident, but a necessary honing of the mental self to survive in a world full of treachery, wrath, revenge, deceit, betrayal, blasphemy and profanity. And all this just leads to a balanced, pragmatic attitude which I believe is an approach certainly more effective than an emotional one.

And once you go through those depressingly lonely times, the other smaller, nicer things in life give you double the happiness.A pat on the back, a smile from a cute stranger, an A+ on a test, a good game, acknowledgement, appreciation, recognition. Change, inevitable (except from a vending machine) supplies a different perception, of people, of circumstances, of opportunities, and of yourself. The scary part, and it freaks me out, is that only a few of us actually emerge stronger and better. The rest make headlines for suicides, murders, and acts of vandalism.

All in a day

2006-10-14T20:29:00.000+05:30

I'm again in one of those moods of mine. The mood in which I don't feel like doing anything though I'm not slightly tired. I think I'm not tired. I should be tired. Maybe I AM tired. After all, I have had only 4 hours of sleep and no lunch. Why did I put myself through such torture? Call it temporary insanity, which results due to stress, which results due to a very unnecessary thing called 'submissions' which unfortunately HAS to exist in a educational stream called as engineering. You'd think that long run-on sentence might have provided some kind of emotional release but unfortunately it has just succeeded in heightening the frustration, so you'll just have to deal with more rants. Tough luck.

So, why 4 hours of sleep in the first place? Because Microsoft produces lousy software. But I guess I don't need to stress on that. Sorry Bill, don't take it personally. It's just the lousy mood talking, and it will be till I understand 'software' better. Or it might just still be the same. Anyway, so yeah 4 hours of sleep and 8 hours of college out of which 5 are spent running around for printouts, index sheets, signatures, extra assignments and reading other notices put up to remind you, this is not the worst. And why no lunch? Because you can never leave the lab out of the fear the teacher may just walk in any minute, and just screw your life more if not seen. Of course, when you do try to approximate the time of the teachers arrival by nicely asking her/him (with your hands behind your back and pleasant relaxed face...mind condition not in agreement ...obviously) when they plan to arrive, it is ALWAYS the very next minute without it BEING the very next minute. So then obviously you wait and wait....and well.... lunch sorta just goes outta the picture.

And now that I'm in this mood, I'll question why I took up engineering in the first place. Hmmm..... so I will go ponder that. Till then, take care.

First impressions, and then some...

2006-09-05T20:13:00.000+05:30

First impressions. How many of us reaaalllly trust them? I know if I did, I'd be pretty miserable and lonely by now. And extremely manipulated. Notice, I said manipulaTED, and not manipulative. So, you can stop shaking your head in agreement now. Or rather, if you know me at all, shake it harder! :P

So, yeah, first impressions. Man, the experiences I have had with these! First of all, with Meghana. (I'm concluding on a nice note dear, don't look so petrified!). Simply put, I hated her initially. No....wait....I didn't care much. Then I hated her....right Megs?...or was it the other way around? Anyway, yeah, I never really liked her much. I guess I have managed to emphasize that properly. :D So going on with the story, we never really hit it off. I thought she was way stuck up. Correction. She is way stuck up. :P But somewhere down the line, I realised we were really similar. We both had same thoughts, thought way too less of others (heheh) and then, we were best friends! Quite the swing, eh? On what grounds I realised, is way too embarrassing to state now, so lets leave it at that. Any questions you have, WILL NOT be answered. Megs, please don't oblige.

Second pseudo impression? Hmmm....Veni. Definitely. Did NOT like her. I still don't know why. Quite a cute, harmless looking creature! Maybe thats why!! :P But honestly, being in PICT, with her, has been good. I survived! Thanks to her. This extremely paranoid person, who thinks everyone is out to get her, and if an asteroid ever hit Earth, it'd find her first, is very adorable. And for Gods sake, I'm not lying! Really!

Pseudo impression # 3. Ankur. I thought this dude was a big, friendly giant who missed his mommy most of the times. Wait a minute......the dude IS a big, friendly giant who does miss his mommy most of the times. :D ....but still is independent, I adore you dude! And stop grinning all that much. God!

There are many more people on the list. Smriti. Though that was not exactly a "bad" impression. I just did NOT know how to act around her. Both of us are quite different in methods of expression. But, all said and done, we get along quite well now. :)
Gayatri. What a story. From tattletaling to teachers, and now to hanging out whenever possible, it's been quite a roller coaster ride. And just as fun! Then Rahul, from the highly snobbish male to the extremely, genuinely helpful and dependable guy I now know him as.

For me, the ones I dislike initially, I gel well with later and vice versa. Hmm, gives a lil 'zing' to relationships, eh?

2006-08-19T22:42:00.000+05:30

Sometimes you like someone only because you like yourself when you are around them

The mind's eye

2006-08-11T21:40:00.000+05:30

"It's your perception, dear. If you see red as pink, you'll never see love. If you see blue as gray, you'll never see the sky but only the dark clouds"

TGIF??

2006-07-30T02:22:00.000+05:30

Friday has been, by far, the most tumultuous day. Ever.
Such mixed emotions. Went to college sleepy. Got sleepier still throughout the course of the day.
What thrill unqualified professors seek from teaching, and getting 300 other disturbed, break-starved, over-stressed yet obedient students to attend, is still a mystery to me. And yes, I'm very nice to my kind. So there we sat, learning data transfer through modems and entities and relationships, while the relentless rain provided the perfect background score.

Lunch was good. Thanks to food.

Would have been better, if four long hours hadn't succeeded it. Takes the whole joy outta eating, believe you me.

Luckily, after learning more about preemptive job scheduling (I like the look on your face....) and avoidance of deadlock (ah, even better now), and admiring some wiseguys' insight on polygon clipping (marvelous..I wish I had a camera), the horrendously long day was almost ending. Two more hours. And I'd be home free.

Two hours went as fast as two hours could go.. Irony. Yes.With a capital I. Time was conspiring against me that day

So, finally, after learning a few Linux commands,( cat, it seems, is not just an animal but a very important tool to create new files. Now how many of you knew that? Anyway, lets keep cat to be the furry cute frisky thing. Makes living easier) I was out! Liberty, I love thy glory. Yeah so,... you get the point.

And then of course, the most entertaining part of my current educational life, is the means by which I get to the educational hub. My carpool. The 11-kilometer one way journey, full of laughter, case-taking, sarcasm, and loud music. However, that day, the traffic really bore on our nerves. Some drivers would be dead, if it weren't illegal to randomly shoot people on the road. And I was really tempted to give certain few a piece of my mind, but expressing opinions vociferously is just not something I have been brought up to do.

Finally, I do reach home. My humble abode. And then, I seek solace in my bed. And my fluffy, yellow blankie. And after 2 hours of deep sleep, its all good again. For a while atleast ;)

2006-07-15T22:39:00.000+05:30

Hurt. Anger. Revenge. Betrayal.

Love.Tranquility. Friendship. Trust.

Look around.

Banish.

Look within.

Nourish.

2006-07-15T22:38:00.000+05:30

Writers block.

Today has been a crappy day.

Gone

2006-07-11T17:28:00.000+05:30

It happened in less than a second.
It registered much later.
And yet she did not move.

Crunched metal. Shattered glass gleamed. Blood made abstract patterns on the asphalt.
And somewhere, she knew, was his body.

Her mind was numb. The entire accident played in her mind, a never ending movie. It did not make sense.

Her legs carried her over to the scene. Burnt rubber stung her nostrils. Nausea rose within her.
Her lungs burned. She couldn't breathe.

And then, she saw him. He lay mangled. His right leg bent at a terrifying angle beneath him. And his eyes were cold. Vacant. She shuddered.

The nausea threatened again.

She rode with him. Destination now changed. It reeked of sweat and old cushions. But the smell of blood filled the interior. She gaged.

It had been an hour. The blood had soaked her clothes, and yet he bled. It trickled down, from the gash, like water from a faulty faucet.

He had support now. Oxygen. She did not want to know whether he inhaled any or not. He had oxygen.

The monitor simply stared back at her. The line danced, and his heart beat. It was the only proof of his existence.

Silence. It engulfed her. But it had been anything but silent. She could still hear the scream. It had been laden with pain. She never liked bikes.

He was always the risk taker. He used to laugh at her timidness. He laughed loudly. He loved life. Yes, he very much did.

She recoiled at her minds use of past tense.

The monitor brought her back to attention. She stared. Could it be?

Irony.

It was a straight line now. It stretched to infinity.

Nausea threatened again. Tears stung.

No, she screamed. No, No, No!

They were sorry.

The curtain fell.

And there was no applause.

My mirror is Me

2006-06-21T00:29:00.000+05:30

"I'm fat"
"I'm just not beautiful"
"He'll never ask me out"

Sounds like the typical teenage angst. All of us can identify with it, on some level. We can understand that need to belong, to feel accepted and to be liked and loved by those around us. Sooner or later, we all find comfort in our own skin and the self-acceptance issue is dismissed as 'just a phase'. So I thought. And I was wrong.

Everybody has issues. I had mine. At one point of time, I looked at myself as if I were this horrible looking beast. But then, it passed. Other important things took its place and life moved on. I was lucky. I realise now.

Its a common belief that it is only teenage girls who suffer from such self perceptions. Its the puberty setting in. Suddenly you are aware of the opposite sex and you realise that guys don't have the 'cooties' you once thought they did, and the mud they once used to eat did do them good. You realise that eye makeup grabs attention and lipstick holds it. Then you grow wiser and realise that too much make up makes slutty and you are best being you. You realise 'boyfriends' are not 'trophies' to be won but a nice 'accessory' to your life. You are aware of the responsibilities you have towards yourself, your parents and your friends. Your dreams are now your goals and your ambitions are your life. You hold your head high, walk with confidence, serene and content with yourself. You look into the mirror. It reflects what you feel. My mirror is ME

For most girls, this is the normal transition from a 'naive doll to a woman'. And for some, its not quite that easy.

I had heard of girls abusing themselves to the extent of turning anorexic or bulimic. Ballerinas and models were the constant victims of these diseases. I had read stories of girls struggling with not so petite figures and the disgust they felt in a bathing suit. Stories of some having broken mirrors because they could not stand looking at themselves. I had relentlessly tried to talk my friends out of going on the "quick way to a slimmer you" diet. And while all this was depressing, I don't think the magnitude of the whole 'body beautiful' hype struck me until I saw a four year old CHILD dieting on peaches and plums because she was afraid she'll grow fat and hence ugly.

And if that weren't shocking enough, another even younger girl threw tantrums when her mother refused to let her use makeup. A cute 3 year old is using foundation, eye liner and lipstick to make herself feel pretty or refusing to get out of the house?!

Where is this stemming from? Can it be dismissed as one unnatural case? I don't think so. If it were just something I saw on T.V., I'd be inclined to do so. Unfortunately it's not. The amount of young girls going through mental depression due to lack of self esteem is disturbing. And the age bracket of such victims is not limited to teens but includes infants!

Why such self hatred? Suicidal urges? Desperate need to twist oneself in a pretzel? Blind in seeing, rather acknowledging the fact that you are good looking, talented and worthy? Security in hiding behind a bitchy, slutty or snobbish facade? Why Why Why? Why does plastic beauty gain a precedence over gods given gift? Why do pursed full lips have an edge over normal 'functional' lips? And why are silicon implants still a popularity given the risk they could pose in breast cancer detection?

Why is such an unrealistic ideal of the feminine form being propounded? Why is unblemished skin, a 36-24-36, and long legs being used to advertise a car, a commodity which is used by both the sexes? Why are most of these advertisements made through a male lens, though it targets women also? Leads to a male chauvinistic perception of women as sex symbols, doncha think?

If you happen to be one of those who finds the entire advertising aspirational, and appreciate the aesthetic attractiveness, then good for you. But what about those who suffer from disoriented social expectations?

Psychologists give detailed explanations. They prescribe medications and advice you to go to shrinks. But is solution really in the 'doctored' help?

Why can't we project in society, chuck society, within ourselves a healthy mental image over a Barbie doll image? It's said, that if Barbie's proportions were translated into a human figure, there would be no space for a stomach in a waist that tiny. And yet, every young girl is fascinated by a Barbie. Why do we allow it?Why do we have only one Sophie Dahl who defies the stick thin image and emerges to be a successful model?

Is the solution such a blur? Probably. But then again isn't the root of all this a mere lack of self respect? If parents took a keen interest in their children, wouldn't it instill self love? Healthy family dynamics have always resulted in strong, confident individuals. And, corny as it sounds, if we'd compliment those around us, even once, it'd help boost an ego. Notice people around and you and acknowledge them. Hasn't a smile lingered on your face slightly longer when someone has genuinely told you how great you look? And it's not about laying it on thick.When you sense some kind of distress, it doesn't cost much to ease it off by being nice. Feels nice too. Trust me.

At 20

2006-06-20T21:48:00.000+05:30

Twenty.
Two decades old.
The tens place of my age changed.

I felt that was reason enough to celebrate.

I expected to wake up feeling a sense of maturity, some amount of calm and I probably would have , if I had slept the night. But since I woke up with no such feelings, I decided to delve into other aspects of my personality to discover what was the 'twenty' in me. It's funny how many faults you discover about yourself when you seriously consider self evaluation. Which is why that was the first and last time I'm ever doing it.

But probably the more entertaining part of turning 20 was the reactions I got from everyone around me.

My parents emphasized the responsibilities I would now have to share in the house. But then again, I had heard that at 19, 18, 17, 16.... but somehow at 20 they thought it would get through. Hmm..no comments.

My relatives had a hard time accepting it. Actually, they just have a hard time believing I'm growing. It seems it easier to remember me as 4 year old than otherwise, because I always seem to elicit reactions like "My god! You are how old?", "You grew up soo fast!", "Last time I saw you, you were hardly 4!"

My friends taunted me on the fact that I was no more a teen. That wasn't enough however. It extended to include my single status and inability to like alcohol. And I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing that for quite a few years. Sometimes, I wish they'll just deem me useless and leave it at that. But then again, I had also wished I'd landed first on the moon.

All in all, it was a great day! Almost no one forgot. Well, a certain someone did. But I have given her enough heat, so I'll hold my peace now. Yes, maturity comes at 20. Lucky you.

Anyway, on a serious note, the 'going on 20' year did teach me a thing or two.

I have learned....

I'm my biggest strength. And my biggest critic.

Things can go very very wrong.

When things do go wrong, very few people stick by you. Yes, those people are crazy but they love you very much. English terms them as Family.

Certain things occur in an instant but have long lasting effects. You might not be the same again. But better.

Opinions will never cease to exist.

People will talk. They will advise. That does not mean they know you better than you do.

Best friends rock.

Purple does not have to be the new pink.

Sometimes, you just have to hang in there.

Your nose does stop growing at 20.

Smiling and laughing does wonders to your popularity.

You are worth it.

It is unfair. It does suck. But it is not forever.

It goes sleep, food and studies. Any other order gives you gases.

People who believe in you, will continue believing. Those who don't, don't matter.

Somethings are just not worth it. Leave it.

Some people also are just not worth it.

Mom's always right. And Dad does know the computer better.

Many will find you weird. And it might not be because of your nose.

Success changes definitions.

There are bigger things happening in this world.

Backs are not fond of high heels.

Guys are still just as stupid. Some are better looking.

Hypocrisy is common.

It's fine if it's not fatal.

It does not have to be personal.

Confidence sails.

Paranoia is not fun.

To breathe.