The thing

"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 And though, it has become outdated?...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....

"
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 *

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.

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*

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

" 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...

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... :)

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

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

Situations show you your true friends.

I'm glad I always saw right.

Dance away

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.

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

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.
.

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

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.

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

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?

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

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

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.