Why do some people have certain abilities? I'm not talking heroes type abilities here, just..the extra awesome things some people are born with. Some people call this being gifted. Some say a greater percentage of that person's brain (left or right) is being used, and better. Some say it has a lot to do with the person's environment and bringing up patterns.
Some call this luck. Some call it destiny.
I call it a genetic cocktail.
You know how some drinks are better than the others, some drinks are more well known, some drinks are liked instantly and some others call for an acquired taste? Some impress immediately. Some have more body. Some are just made of higher quality ingredients.
Different people prefer different drinks, yes. But some have a long-standing success rate at bars.
I believe that people are just like the drinks they like.
Some people are born with a sharp, well flavoured, well blessed genetic cocktail. Their genes quite literally, arrive and perform at command. These people are generally the exceptionally talented, exceptionally gifted, exceptionally successful ones. Their cocktail is good, and it only keeps getting better with work and practice.
Now..why does the bartender of life give the elixir type cocktail only to a select few? Worse..when he did dish these out, was I passed out or sleeping or already chugging away on a regular, boring old drink?
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm having a totally miserable time. I don't know how to get it out of my system and move on, so I figured atleast blogging about it would help marginally, if not more. I tried pretending it didn't exist, I tried distracting myself, but here's the thing, you can only distract yourself with something that's better. Not by something you're supposed to be doing. I've tried, believe me.
In essence, I've fully figured out that I've no life, I'm going to BOMB this disappoint everyone around me, but oh so much worse- myself. I'm going to finish my own perfectly capable self off with this exam, and I'm going to blow my self-confidence and self worth to smithereens. Okay, so all that doesn't hang on one exam, but I'm in a very dramatic frame of mind right now.
I'm looking for one teeny ray of sunshine, and My shades are so dark, blinded by darkness that I can't find one.
I so hope that this, too, will pass.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Put yourself in..well, your shoes. What matters most to you? Typical (and over-done, it seems) answers would be family, friends, your better (or not!) half, your reputation, peace with yourself, success, your happiness. Right. Right?
Or did money come first in that list?
I'll be honest and say that money is very, very important. Very. I cannot stress this enough. I know this truly, truly well, and all the more because I live in a country where poverty is commonplace- you only need to step out of your house to see people writhing their lives away in it. Money is crucial for the betterment of an existence. Money is necessary for survival. Money is the first thing anyone in their right minds would associate with a better quality of life.
But the mastercard AD certainly got one thing very, very right..There are some things money can't buy. Atleast, I certainly think so.
Money can buy you a degree in India- but it cannot buy you an education. Money can buy you medical insurance, but mental peace is still far, far away. It can buy your friends a round of drinks at the bar, but it can't get you their loyalty and trust. It can make you look snazzy, scorching hot, but it can't buy you love (famous, oh-too-famous words.) It can buy your dad a new car, but it can't make him love you more.
It can buy you a big house, but It can't fill people who genuinely give a a tiny hoot about you, in it.
But the people who come on the precariously indifferent "Moment of truth" don't seem to think any of these things. The show should probably be called Sex, lies and Lie-detector. Episode after episode, on how the world, and more obviously, America just can't seem to keep their knockers on, let go of their past, or tell their spouses things they should be telling them in the privacy of their bedroom. I'll admit, I was interested as much as the next person in the first three episodes. It was fun when people admitted that they stuff up their underwear to loom better endowed. But eventually I got as incredulous as the critics. Really...how many times have we seen the "Have you ever cheated on so-and-so" question? The point they're trying to make is-
a) B***s to the spouse you've already cheated on anyway, time to make some quick bucks!
b) Forget about your family sobbing over there, hey now you can afford a platinum-encrusted facial! How about that?!
c) Join the Brigade. Let's face it, the only way to earn your fifteen minutes of fame without going partying without underwear, is to spill all your big fat dirty family secrets on not just national, but worldwide television.
d) Nearly EVERYONE in America loves their spouses and yet believe they really shouldn't be with them at all. Such love. (Were you hoping for public support during your public break-up, clam-heads?!)
I get that people have had hard, trying lives..but if so, keep it to yourself! The almost sadistic angle of the show even has people booing loudly when people back out of the show, lest they're forced to reveal what condom flavour they used when they cheated on their spouse or worse, if it was used already or stolen from your boss's drawer. If you're cringing, know that all this is a distinctive possibility in anyone's head, anyone who has watched that show.
What's downright hilarious is how the host seems way more concerned about the future lives of the unfortunate contestants than the contestants themselves. The host's got a crinkly, worried look on his face when he clearly states that the questions are very personal and he himself is wondering if So-and-so is actually going to go through this. When a stranger who's the host of a show that is trying to promote itself is asking you and your family if you really need the money that much, you know you're asking for trouble.
But people don't seem to care. People think the moolah is definitely cooler. Their families and friends are all battered and bruised, most of the damage is seemingly permanent at the very least, and I know I wouldn't want to be on this show or have ANYONE I know and love on this show. Some things are meant to be said in confidence. Some things are meant to be classified, even for the commons. Some things, are definitely better when swallowed deep within the hallows of your mind, because they are not really that important. For instance, your struggling best friend musician needn't know that you actually think he isn't going to make it. He needs to believe you think he can. That belief itself will see him through, perhaps. How will a messed up friendship, belief gone to the dogs, and an utter stomping of self-respect help?
Entertainment is one thing, and the tragic, trashy, chronicles of the sex-starved and dying to be famous gets old. It really really does. I'm going to keep my friends and family, keep secrets, fight my battles in private...and most importantly..I'm going to watch Saturday Night Live or Hell's Kitchen instead.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
To be or not to be, THAT is the question. Man, Shakespeare was smart. This, I realised only today, in fuzzy logic class, when santa put up a slide with the quote. Santa's what we call my fuzzy logic professor- he's all rolly polly and jolly. He even holds up his belly sometimes and laughs...you can almost hear a “ho ho ho” echo at the back of your head. He's also pretty smart and the one of the nicest teachers we have- he even gives us a MUCH needed coffee break. THAT, my dah-lings, is truly exceptional in my department.
That quote sums up almost ever droplet of being in our lives, in my opinion. It applies to everyone, everywhere, in every facet of life. To be in the gym right now, or not to be. To be an engineer or not to be. To be studying for that exam, or not to be. To be a virgin, or not to be. To be a loyal friend, or not to be. To be honest, or not to be.
To like that hot neighbour, or not to.
It's really that simple.
Except it is..well, not really all that straight up. There are books with a list of things that determine “Are you ready to give it up for your boyfriend yet, or not?” Man, even a list of a million things can't determine the feelings springing up in your brain, and even those can't determine adequately what you should be doing (for those who are on that path). Nothing can determine if you're destined to do that MBA, or if you're going to lose weight. Science can take you through to anywhere with reason, but it can't help the trainwrecks and the detours that happen along the way. And these, are words of wisdom that come after a delightful evening of heritage wine. (I love using these very british words...delightful, divine, yadda yadda yadda)
Which brings me to the delightful evening. BBQ and heritage wine. (Which sounds strangely healthy, yes? I certainly thought so.) It was MUCH needed by the almost bedraggled moi.
I also tried a hot dog for the first time in my life today (Don't gasp, you...I'm vegetarian by choice and birth) and it was quite yum yum in my tum tum! The mustard especially.
I love mustard on anything.
Anyway, it was very relaxed and nice. My heart, lungs, eyes, heck, even my toes are very happy after a nice time...I can almost hear them go (Finally, WOMAN, you took us out and showed us what the world looks like. Finally. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!)
And, and, list time!! Here we go..things I've loved and still loving and even RE-loving (there isn't such a word, right..okay..falling in love with ALL over again):
Grey's anatomy. There is going to be a whole post on this, with my every opinion on this, just as soon as a get to the third season. Stay tuned! Right now I'm way too addictedto this show to even type it out. And I don't wanna go to rehab, I say, No, NO No!!
A genius, and you should SO fall asleep listening to hallelujah and any song from Grace. Your breathing pattern with stabilise, which basically means you'll sleep like a very peaceful, happy log person.
Call 'em jujips or jolly jems or jelly jems or whatever, these sugar coated sinful jelly things are just the right thing for your bellies. (Oh my god, I sound like a walking talking AD jingle.) And have many packets of them. The sugar high is an experience NOT to be missed:)
I re-discovered my fuchsia earrings. Mood uplifters, really.
I've clocked in a ridiculous number of hours per day so now I do ONLY these things in a day:
-Watch grey's anatomy
(In no particular order, of course)
Now I must get back to doing one of those things. Remember, there's nothing that a lindt thin can't help cure, and the song “Affirmation” by savage garden makes sense even after YEARS.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
La la la la laaaaa! I am BACK! And surprise, surprise, I am actually in a happy state of mind. Certain parts of my brain have ceased to protest, and they're just sitting back, enjoying this change of pace. Almost like someone gave them a beer and went- "Yo, just sit back and get breezy".
And my, they did obey.
I haven't blogged in a while, partially because charlie (my laptop) totally bailed on me, what with him refusing to access the internet. Okay, okay, so part of it was my sheer stupidity and inability to help fix the poor dude. But hey, he could've co-operated a bit more.
Another, more overwhelming reason was that the past few weeks have neither been happy, nor eventful. I was bogged down by the monster internals, bugged with other issues, worried by the lack of "fun" in my life, and especially brought down by nothing to look forward to. Not that there aren't opportunities..but for a while I've been forced to turn down even trips to a swanky estate in chickmaglur and a nice trip to shivasamudram..and trust me, I don't fancy saying no, ever. It's all.bad timing.
So I didn't want to type out some lamenting, blah post (oh wait..does this seem like one? Hang on, it gets sunny, I promise) and I wanted to doodle when some happy state of mind found me. I guess I have to give a lot of credit to adt and ayt, because today they met me and I had a great time. We were supposed to watch mamma mia (hey I actually like abba..."My, my, how can I resist you?") but we didn't get tickets. I could just picture the big guy up there smiling and going.."There..I ruined the only good thing you have all week!"
But things turned around! We went to FP, and got ourselves all silly on a salt rimmed orangey thingy (I LOVE salt rims and tend to be very partial to the citrus group) and something called "Death wish". Funny, all it did was knock some life into me, sorta.
And then we just sat at kalmane coffee, just sat and smiled and laughed and talk and man, I have changed! My stupid, depressy withdrawn self of a few months didn't really break, but there is a hole in that egg shell. I really did have a great time. It felt so good to be out, I'm still happy and sorta jumpy. I dearly hope this is the beginning of a road to NO RETURN to the old, happy, absolutely cheerful, did-i-mention-happy me.
And tomorrow I will be going for em's book launch! I'm almost tripping with excitement. Any book-theatre-movie-music type thing really gets me going. Indian writers are definitely my cup of decadent darjeeling chai. And women writers, especially. Ever read a book called 'girl, alone?'. You so should.
I think 'You are here' will be just as good:)
And while I continue on the pursuit of happyness, its sure as hell nice to know I've made some serious progress in one evening. Its even nicer to know I had adt and ayt to take me there.
Hah, watch out folks..in no time I shall be cackling, and I mean REALLY cackling again.
Maybe it'll even turn into a guffaw...