For the occasion

There's a dress or an item for every occasion, I've heard. Some people don't necessarily go by these formalities, like me, but some, apparently, do. There's a dress for every first interview. The "What a killer-impression" outfit. A dress for every first date. An outfit for "Let's impress the parents". Specific shoes for a breal-up. A wine for different dinners, something for the home or home-made food for a house-warming. Some things even have different meanings in different cultures, like flowers for a wedding and for a funeral.

To be honest, I'm not really a flower person. They look prettier in bushes and pots and whatever else they grow in, really, even though I have, on occasion, thought that flowers wrapped in paper and injected with fake blue ink (those orchids you get in every road corner in bangalore, sometimes) were nice looking, but overall, I'm a more "useful-meaningful-this reminds me of something" gift person. I have liked two flowers though- Lilies and Gerberas. I had to google that to even know what that's spelt like.



Sometimes, you change. If someone had told me this much would change in 2010, I'd have laughed at them six months ago. But, life can creep up on you and tickle you and make you jump, even. Suddenly you're making decisions you couldn't even dream of making. Suddenly lilies start looking prettier. Suddenly you buy items for no occasion that don't go with anything, because you've dreamt up occasions in your own head. Suddenly you're happy when you thought you wouldn't be, sad when you shouldn't. Suddenly you have crazy conversations with friends about growing up and ruin it all with some really bad joke about some boy and a girl, like always.

Suddenly you write a blog post that makes no sense to anyone, simply because it's an account of how things are changing, things can change. Random as they may be. Suddenly you're wondering if you're dressed right for an occasion, acting right, doing the right things. Yeah. We all sail on the same ship, only to find pirates one time or another.
Only to realise that what we've heard could be right all along.

For some people, there comes a day when they can't wait to get out of bed. When sleep evades them, when their blood is too busy boiling and gushing, when they'd rather not sleep. When they feel like they just ran a mile in the wind and then showered in a spring somewhere and STILL have enough energy to go on one more walk, because they simply must. Because they just feel like it, because they want to. Nothing wrong matters, everything can be fixed, everything's ok, everything's either a lesson learnt or a lesson in the making, because somewhere, somehow, their minds are at the peaceful gates of satisfaction with everything that's gone wrong, everything they've learnt, everything they've put right because they realise they have the power to do so, and everything they're going to do right and love from now on.

It swells, and it's swell, and it's called Passion for Living. I know I have it somewhere inside me, and I can't wait for it to spring out one day, and run many miles and take you with me.

one two, Change

Somewhere between my second elneer and that bar of twix, I realised that I've changed.

What are we, really?
Are we what we like? Who we like? What we don't like?
Worse, who we don't like?

If you knew me well enough many years ago, I can easily tell you that you probably don't know me at all now. No offense, though. It only means that you can make a whole new friend without being judged. It's true, really.

Because I'm changing at lightspeed, and no one can keep up with that, not even me.

I used to think that I know what's good for me. Clearly, that is one of my biggest *ahem* flaws. *more ahem*. yes, I have flaws and so do you. You think that twenty-something years of existence would've taught you better, but here are some very conflicting things that I'm starting to discover- We change, rapidly and frequently. We also, essentially, stay the same. I know you read that again and went- Let's get off this nutcase's blog. But, it's true. So what determines what changes and what doesn't? Genes? Probably. Upbringing? Probably. Friends? Maybe. Who knows? Uh-huh.

Which would explain why I'm starting to glug down elneer like my entire family always does, why biscuit-chocolate combinations are my family's favourite, why we all love candy. Which would explain why the smell of home cooking on the streets of India is something I'll never get sick of. Which explains why my friends know that even though I probably hate purple now and love army-tank green, buying me blue or black is a relatively safe bet.
Which is why I'll never appreciate all kinds of perfume. And never bother looking at page-3 photographs unless I know someone I know is in them. And go to sleep late everyday knowing that I should sleep earlier.

Which is why, I don't think i'll ever know what's really good for me and what isn't.

Which is why I'll keep writing these senseless bitlets of pointless information just so moonlight will find its way into my room.

The weather changes really fast in the tropics, they say. You'd better keep up.

My yin-yang

If you've never heard of the yin-yang, it is a symbol in chinese philosophy, that represents opposing forces being interconnected. The good and the bad, for example. The good's got a little bit of bad in it, and the bad's got a little bit of good. I've always liked this symbol; I even bought a Yin-Yang pendant almost a decade ago and wore it religiously.

I found an english equivalent to the Yin-Yang today, and that's Distraction. Distraction is a perfect blend of good and evil. Most people make distraction out to be something that's to be avoided at all costs- it takes away focus, stops you from concentrating, changes your priorities, yadda yadda yadda. Well, guess what? Distraction can be evil. It can mess you up, and this is something almost everyone has been exposed to.
But distraction can be a fabulous thing.

I guess that's the thing with bloggers..sometimes we write just to forget other things. It's not always about encapsulating our realities for the rest of the world- sometimes, it's about escaping them. I've always written most before exams, when I've been upset, moody, worried, scared, and sometimes, too happy to handle. Blogging is the BEST form of procrastination, and the worst. Best because it makes you feel fantastic. Worst because you've proof of your procrastination, up on the internet, for the world to see.

Hmm, what shall I write about? I don't quite know how to pronounce 'oeuvre' yet. I've tried, several times, looked at audio and IPA pronunciations, and, to no avail. I should be cooking dinner right now, but I'm contemplating making do with soup. Laziness is every sunday's middle name, I suppose. I played wii tennis to feel better, but this random hitting of keys is actually doing a better job. I feel distracted enough already. Calm. Breathing. Whew.

And, will you look at that. When I started this, I didn't know what I'd type about to get my mind off things, and now I've got a post way longer than intended (as usual, as always, for always). Some people tell me that the stuff I write is too long, and I agree with them. But when these keys feel this good to type on, you can't really stop very easily. Momentum takes a while to fizzle out.

Now that I'm feeling better, I'm going back to the real world. A world where I've no keys all the time, where a white screen isn't my canvas and where my mind isn't on a free-fall-spree, but a world I love anyway, because all of writing is a part of the world, and all of the world is a part of writing.

My shortest post ever.

*Rant alert*

You know the eternal truth about life? Well, I, all of twenty-two years of age and experience, have finally, finally figured it out. It was, indeed, a very kumbayaah moment. Here it is:



the most important things never go according to plan.




Go on, life!! If I'm wrong, go on and prove me wrong! I'd love that.

I have tried being positive, I really have. Now it seems about time for Plan B. Hmm, where did I put that punching bag?

Firecracker

I feel like a firecracker. Now, now, I may be going too far with this, but I've been thinking a lot, this weekend, and MOST of it is rather unrealistic. But I figured, If I actually put those thoughts down, It'll all become more real, and then I have nothing else to do but follow the green signal.

Ready, set

Is it because of Diwali? There are firecrackers bursting all around me. They're all bits and pieces of things, really, put together in a fashion that allows them to shoot up and burst into splendour right in front of your eyes. In big, spectacular fashion. In a way that cannot be ignored.

I have all those bits and pieces in me, I always have. But right now, I'm no more Miss purple shoes with bits and pieces in them, wandering about life. I have a plan. My plan is to take those bits and pieces, and find a way to shoot them straight out. It will be painful, it will be confusing, it might make me go on hiatus or it might make me blog so much more because that might be the only way I will handle it. It might be impossible, even, but all I can think about are those big, colourful lights.

Because in the end, I will burst into a a wonder, and for a little while, you can't help but look at the sky, you will notice and then, hopefully, I'll have a LOT more to blog about.

Go!

In with the new

We all do a total 180, sometime or the another, on something. Going from a NO to a YES, going from why to why not, from aren't you out of your mind?!!..to you'd be crazy NOT to try this! I know I have. So, here we go..the things that were a total 180 degree pullout for me in the recent past..

• Radiohead. Shocking as it is, there was a time, years and years ago, (when I was even more hopelessly immature) that I once actually laughed at OK Computer. Both the album name, and the songs in it. Needless to say, I was a stupid infant then, and thankfully, good sense has prevailed.
• Sarees. I recently even bought TWO! Why, because, when the need arises, you have to buy them. I've actually started appreciating prints..spending time in a saree shop is less DEATH to me now.
• Pink- The colour. I once hated, despised, loathed, even, pink, yes, just like you, silverstreak, and did a total 180 on this when I saw this dull pink bag in Gucci and..there was no turning back. The artist- Loved, all along.
• Great indian Epics. At one point I thought- what could be more boring than reading the Mahabharat? Trust me, a lot. I've started reading some super condensed version (I shock my own self) and it is actually highly entertaining. Besides, most of your Indian friends will have names from there. No kidding. Mine do. Makes for some pretty 'interesting' trivia.
• South Indian Food. From Yuck, to yummy in my tummy. My mom says I am finally growing up and accepting my identity like a normal human being, I attribute this to the HORRID food (other cuisines) i've eaten outside sometimes. It suddenly made me love south indian food. Go figure. I still don't dig Idlis, though.
• Priyanka Chopra. Attributed to dostana, even though she wasn't much of an actress in it. I couldn't stand her before, and now I think that although she can't act, she fulfils the bollywood hype and expectation of looking amazing without looking like a fake painted doll, and i've never seen someone wear a saree with NO jewellery and still look stunning.
• Rain. Yes, I hated rain once. Simply because, on my way home from school, it would end up being a long, cold walk. Now, I can't get enough of it.
• Tea. I'm still in the I-love-coffee club, here, but Tea is GOOD. And I have stopped discounting that. Especially elaichi tea.
• Strawberries. From weird to D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S.
• Dating. I used to have very different ideas on dating, which, for various reasons, I will not post here. I've changed, that's all you need to know. (Some people may remember the ridiculous.."If two people like each other...")
• Editorials in newspapers. From Why are they here to Why did I miss out on years of reading them?
• Peanuts. The comic. Yes, you probably are a die-hard Calvin and Hobbes fan too, but peanuts is really good. You should try it. If you already like it, why didn't you tell me sooner?!
• Plays. I didn't like plays and theatre once. When I was young (read: stupid) I know. Ridiculous. Now, I'd happily watch a play every night of the week.
• Weddings. Now, I love them. The really well done ones. With great food and lots of dancing and company, that is. Earlier, it was such a snoozefest.

Feel free to contribute, or let me know if you post something in parallel- Will link!

Know

I want you to tell me when you need me. So that I can be there for you. But you have to let me. Let me find you when you purposely got lost, call you when you'd rather not talk, buy you lunch when you'd rather not eat. You have to let me talk, after I listen. So that you know I haven't been breathing away in despair, knowing that a wall could do better. You have to truly tell me what scares you, what frightens you. So that I can attempt to chase those monsters away. You shouldn't care that I might do it with just a tissue. Sometimes tissues, if snapped really hard, can hurt like a whip.

You can't not thank me. But you have to thank me with your eyes, with your face, with your voice. Not with a message. Not with pretense. You can't assume that I will be there for you because you want me to. I will be there for you because I know I want to.

You have to unfold. Stories are like that, the unfold in pages and chapters and paragraphs and conversations. I have to be able to read you like a book. You can re-tell any para you want, read it differently, bring it to life differently. But you can't make me read you in a day. You've to give me time, so that I remember the book. Long, long after I've put it down.

You also have to be gripping. Gripping stories, are those you want to stay up and read forever. And yet, they unfold. So well, that you read, and read, satisfying a hunger you never even knew existed before. You have to create that hunger, and then satisfy it.

You have to lie. gracefully, and subtly, and yet so badly that I know you're lying and appreciate the fact that you're not afraid to tell me white lies just so my rose glasses seem rosier. But if I believe you well and truly, you have to know when to actually stop lying and tell me the truth. Not because i want you to. Because rosy isn't my favourite colour for too long.

You have to call me. Call me with a pressing, painful thing you just have to talk about, and yet ask me how I am. And talk about me, for as long as I like. Knowing fully that I will not do that to you, I will not let that happen for too long, even if you try.

You have to know when to back off. Back off when I feel like you won't understand, not when I need someone to sympathise. Understand when I need someone to help me draw up my back-up plans instead of telling me the main ones will go fine. And still, bug me and hound me and call me even though you know I'd rather you back off. Because you know that you actually backing off would be the last thing I need.

You have to read this and realise, that I'm not writing about you, and I'm not crazy, and I didn't mean to write this up and put this on the internet, but sometimes I like writing these sour cream things, and I did mean to write this and put this up, not so you can read it and think I'm writing about you, because I'm not.

But you should know that if you want this to be about you, it can.

Title for a post. Post for a title.

Dumb, very dumb, oh SO dumb title for this post. I know.

But my fingers are happy. Joyous. There's just this convivial relationship that my fingers and charlie share. (Psst...charlie's my laptop. I know. You were either somewhat excited or somewhat disappointed. If neither, you come in my favourite list for you have been reading!)

Diwali came and diwali went. And Well, its been quite a ridiculous week. For starters, I saw two movies, both thoroughly abominable, execrable, impertinent. (Ah, not-so-small words. NOTHING else makes you sound both unbearably intelligent and pompous at the same time. Have you ever realised how very smart people always use bigger words where simple ones will suffice? Its both a good thing and a bad thing. And yes, its also an amusing thing. They can say non-secular, but will they stop themselves from saying ecclesiastical? Noooooo.)

So..fashion. With all due respect, let me begin and end by saying that I may not be Madhur Bhandarkar, but I truly and honestly believe that I can make a better movie about the Indian fashion industry with priyanka chopra, even after never having set foot in it.

So..Roadside Romeo. Bad choice, disney. Bad, bad choice.
Romeo and Laila are JUST like my two friends who recently hooked up. Just like them. Its almost wonderfully scary.

I've tons of really good ideas for posts but none that can be executed given my present sleepy, droopy state. Life can be way too complex. Wow. Yuck, even. Bloom asked me, yesterday, "It isn't supposed to be this hard sometimes. Is it?"
These aphorisms, passed down from god-knows-where to us, making us believe that we deserve better. They've spoiled us, no? We all believe things shouldn't be this bad. I know I do. Are we narcissistic as a race or do we really deserve better? Do we deserve to go through mind-numbing hell just so we appreciate the good times? Rosh told me we do. But black and white prevails, and grey suddenly seeps in. And throw all this philosophy, X said, we do deserve better.
Ah. Different people, and different views during different conversations on the same things.
And I've confused you, I presume.

I'm in a weird mood, which is evident. I'm pretty sure I'll come up with a far better, less eclectic (ha!) post in a bit. For now, you'll have to bear with my idiosyncrasies.

lights


camera


action!

Genetic Cocktail

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?

The question

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):

1. 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!!

2. Jeff Buckley.

   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.

3. Jolly jellies.

   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:)

4. Pink.

   I re-discovered my fuchsia earrings. Mood uplifters, really.

5. Sleeping

   I've clocked in a ridiculous number of hours per day so now I do ONLY these things in a day:

   -Attend college

   -Sleep

   -Study

   -Sleep

   -Groom myself

   -Eat

   -Sleep

   -Watch grey's anatomy

   -Study

   -Sleep

   -Study

   -Sleep

   -Sleep

   (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.

Ta!

marginalize

hey, you there..yes you. did you think I wasn't talking to you?
we spent nights and days together
talking about how other people complicate and mess up their lives. Make them so incredibly complex that rocket science and thread anarchy came together like a ball of dirty yarn that just couldn't be spun.
You told me that you preferred it simple.
Then how come I'm trapped in your anarchy? And how come, even though I want out, I'm still in, and how come I want to tell you that I want nothing more than to be out, but I can't?

didn't you once tell me you can't stand someone who can't keep a secret?
Didn't you once exhale, for hours because I wouldn't tell you someone else's?
have you not realised that you're a hypocrite, when you call everyone else that?
Then how come you want me to spill everything for you, when you're crying over un-spoilt, un-spilt milk? Milk thats fresh and cold in the refrigerator, and FYI..your antics get stale faster than the milk does.

didn't you find someone else fake, once? Didn't you tell me that you couldn't believe people would come around for entirely selfish reasons, and that people who make the world at their convenience isn't fair? Didn't you once say you couldn't tolerate someone else reading your messages when you didn't want them to? Didn't you once call someone I know and love..nosy?
Then how come you're pouring over my shoulder, and many others'...curiosity about their lives driving you, an invisible sheath of confidence hiding you..and yet at some level you know you're transparent?

sometimes, you know the answer I'm giving. You want to change that, and you'll change what you say so I'll be forced to say what you want me to.
Haven't you realised that I love you, and all this is making me think twice about the kind of person you are?

you can't stand it when someone talks behind your back.
and you love talking behind others' backs.

You're perfectly capable of making good conversation and yet, you're so entwined in your own life that you don't really bother with it, and then you tell me other people are incredibly dull, and boring to talk to only because they're too wrapped up in themselves.
haven't you looked in a mirror, emotionally?

You can't stand it when your friends don't support your idiosyncrasies, and yet you won't support mine.
Haven't you realised that you're selfish?

The coffee's brewing. Its time for you to wake up.

Daily Lessons

I was wondering, is there a right to existence? A right to happiness? I don't think so. Just imagine the workload law firms would have, if there were these rights. Shudder.

If you're one of those people who look around you everyday and go..."Why am I surrounded by people who have ____ Job, _____ grade, _____ opportunity and I don't?"...I found an article that focusses on the people who didn't have these things when they started out. It ranks pretty okay on the feel good factor.
The rejects. Check them out here.

Till this week, I used to wonder if people really needed personal organizers and google calendars and PDAs and all that jazz.
Now I know why.

I've looked for countless articles on beating the excess-sleep disease (Is it called sleep apnea?) man, who would've thought that excess sleep can ruin your life?

Philadelphia Cream Cheese is awesome.
Warning: The side effects, however, aren't.

You spend most of your teen years convincing your folks that pajama parties are okay, and sleepovers are fun and harmless.
And then you grow older and your mom goes for a sleepover with her friends and suddenly, shockingly, momentarily, you're a teeny bit worried.
(Not for long. They're parents.)

Rain is either beautiful, lovely and amazing or downright horrid.
There's really no middle ground.

The week

This week was weird.

Don't get me wrong, it was probably one of the best weeks I've had in a long time. Most weeks are very BLAH, you know..where you arbitrarily wait for something to happen, and then something works out, something doesn't..and before you know it, the highlight of the week would've been potting more than two balls at pool, eating something vegetarian in KFC for the millionth time(Believe me, that happens when you completely IGNORE your tastebuds), or someone actually responding to a blog post (No kidding!)

But this week was different.

For starters, This week had an agenda. I don't normally like writing about my personal life at all, but I guess sometimes, you want to. Not because its all oh-so-fabulous, or because reading it will make anyone go "Ooh la la, she lives it up!"...but because I want to. I feel like it. Shocking, for me...but here goes...

So this week, my friend's sister's wedding was the agenda. I'm not big on naming people, and what's in a name, anyway? But wait..that's reserved for a whole new post.

Oh, man. I'm digressing a lot, aren't I? By the way, I'm not the kind or person who says "ain't I" unless I'm in a very bling-kinda mood. Which isn't often.

So, anyway....one night we went to the mehendi, one night we went to the reception..and it was all so gosh-darn-fabulous that I was quietly thinking a lot in my head. Two things make me think-good scenarios, bad scenarios. If its a good scenario, I can't help but break it down into what the hell makes it THAT good...(Yeah, I know..SO Much fun)...but hey! We all have our weird-ness, don't we?
So During the wedding I was just mindlessly moving from the awesomeness (mind you, the dancing was par excellence) to how my wedding would be someday. Every girl has pondered, and pondered some more on the subject. Yes, even the ones with commitment-trust-issues, even the tomboys, even the ones who never, ever played with Barbie. And yes, Even me.(Barbie-playing constituted a gargantuan chunk of my life, though).

So...I didn't know shit. I mean it. I used to be the kind of person who knew what she wanted, how she wanted it..but now..I didn't know when, how, and most most most importantly...why I wanted to get married in the first place. Plus all these hideous girly doubts crept in. Will I be glowing like that? Will I be that happy? Will I feel like that is the moment? Will my hair grow out like that? What If i'm too fat then to carry off a dress like that? What if my hair-do doesn't come out the way it should? What if, what if?
Man, the female brain- It does the mental tour de france everyday. I know mine does.

Odd, eh? In the midst of an event that was spectacular in every way, I couln't help feel rather lost with respect to my event, hopefully a good long way away. I guess at some level I'm happy with that level of doubt. Its mildly comforting.
Except for when I succumb to the doubts.

College the next day, (after THAT much fun and mental thinking) was nothing short of something very much like the blues. I just wanted to sleep, dream, sleep, sleep....I was so out of it that I came back and slept all evening and all night. For most part of it I was in some elemental trance.

We also went to the reception which was....WOW. The clothes, the food, the dancing, the environment. Needless to say, I danced so much that I took care of two workouts I had missed that week. (Ugh. Imagine calling dance a workout when its wayyyyyyyyyy more fun!)

The other highlights of the week were playing the nintendo wii for the very first time (which just totally kicks ass with its technology-cuteness mix), watching the play "Five point someone"(which I totally owe my friend for, and mind you-it was a stunning play..they took a mediocre book and just made an outstanding play...the cast was fabulous) and....cooking! Yes, I'm starting to quite like cooking. Being twenty something changes so many things in you. Its strange.

But why was this week weird? Because after this much fun, I should either be
- energised
- raring to get through any thing torturous
- experiencing fun-withdrawal.

I'm none of these. I'm still very blah.

I know. Women.
I feel it, too. Feelings just don't materialize the way they should, eh.
Ta!

distilled

the myriad mud patches, a toothy grin
we're kids outside, we're kids within
“Behave!”, they said, we didn't want to do so
we thought we'd be this way for as long as we know.
we laughed at others, we learnt even faster
how to laugh at ourseleves, the world was our oyster
we cried when upset, we cried when hurt
we ridiculed freely and when we criticised we were curt
the best part though, was that the day after we fought
the past was buried. the horrid things, we forgot.

it was so easy, so smooth. and then we learnt of pimples
no, no. its all not the same now. grow up. its simple.
and we tried, we changed, that openness we held
the way we learnt and forgave, the way our memories would melt
the way intricacies didn't matter
the way we didn't care about money or stature
the way anything grownups seemed to fight about
seemed way too trivial. and then we started finding out
firsthand. issues cropped up in me, issues cropped up in you
i thought it was normal, and it seemed like you did, too.

we can't scream anymore. that's the first thing i miss
we can't relapse into hours of infantile ignorant bliss
we can't shout when we want, get out what we want
because we've learnt to try and control what we really can't
and while it can't change, while we're taught to distill
every emotion that we were born to be able to spill
i still think, sometimes, we should go back in time
and live. and i mean really, live, like those memories of mine
where we fought over ice cream for hours and in the end
offered it to each other and saved up money so we could spend
on each other and when nothing mattered more to me
than you, and nothing mattered more to you than me
and everything else was secondary.

Mud Pie, Cerebellum and Vitality

The dark forces came
The dark forces went
We waged a war
In its sixth, fruity flavour
That only turned sour later

Brain extracts
Picked, un-picked
Ooh, I'm a fussy bucket
And orchids with fake blue ink surging through them would agree.

She's been there to london to look at the queen
But She's frightened me all the way from there
Now I know why we saw 'degrees of transition'
But that's why those terms are apt, I suppose.

Interpretations are over-done.
These lines weren't supposed to make sense.

*Cackle*
Atleast, that's what I'm telling you.

The Fine Print

Ho, Hum. Why do bloggers blog, you ask? I'm sure you've asked that. Everyone has, at some point.If you havent' well...then you should. I know I did, many times. I never really got an answer to that. Then I started a blog. papoose-spruce@blogspot.com. I never really got very far. I wrote two posts. TWO. This blog is pretty new, not more than two weeks old or so, I'd say, and I'm upto 9 posts or more (I'm not very good at numbers). I don't want to jinx it, but what kept me interested this time, was that...I'd figured out why I wanted to blog in the first place. And suddenly, petty things didn't matter so much.

Blogging was suddenly something I was doing, for me. More than anything else. I'm totally and completely happy about the prospect of people reading it, of course, and a huge whoop-like THANK YOU to all the people (how many ever, two,ten or more) who've read the fine print(or not) and got my hit meter to cross the big 100. I won't deny that I get completely flattered if someone comments positively on a post...It makes my day! Maybe even my week!

I'd be lying if I said that others reading my doodles and scrawls and commenting didn't make a difference, but that hasn't become the ONLY or MAIN reason why I continue to Blog. It all digs a bit deeper than that. What sub-consciously happened, was that, once I'd started Blogging..I started to do something else that I'd never given two hoots about before - I started reading others' Blogs.

...And it was good. Really good. I mean it. You can learn from anywhere. From books, magazines, activities, events. Even movies, art, music. I've always considered myself an avid reader, and I've been reading ever since I was little. But the learning I've experienced by reading other Blogs....is learning like no other. It depends a LOT on the kind of Blogs you read, but once I delved into the fine print...I discovered things that no other form could bring to my notice. By that, I mean..learning from someone else's train of thought. The more blogs you read, the more posts you read..the style of writing of that person comes alive. You start getting their drift on things they haven't even posted on. You learn from their opinions, their lives. Its like an exchange program. You learn to value other's opinions. Once you actually READ the fine print, you figure out stuff that you wouldn't have figured out even on a date or lunch with that person. That's...pretty Big. In such a huge world with so many people. That's Big.

A lot of people don't even read the fine print. They read maybe, less than half a post. That doesn't really qualify as anything, in my opinion. You can't judge a book by its cover, a Blog by its template and a post by its title or opening paragraph. If you do, then you're missing out on a whole lot. You might as well not even look at the bits you do look at.

So Once I read others' stuff, I actually felt like writing mine. I felt like if I actually indulge in the same mind-speak others do, maybe I'd provide food for thought for a lot of others. Just maybe. Most of all, for myself. I can't begin to describe what its like reading older posts and going....What frame of mind did I write that in? For people who've been blogging for years, its like opening up a page of your life that you just typed away. Its funky! That's something even looking at old pictures can't give you. Ho hum, this was the person I was.

My take- Read the fine print. Even if you don't blog, no biggie. You'll learn a ton of stuff. You'll laugh at a ton of stuff. You'll draw parallels between others train of thought and your own. You'll understand all these things about human existence. In some cases (where its not, you know, so gosh-darn profound) you'll be really entertained (some people have blogs that can give you more laughs than you bargained for). If a blog is really bad (That's opinion based, of course), atleast you'll know what you should NEVER write like. You won't come out of it with nothing. I know I didn't.

Here's to everyone that Blogs, everyone that reads Blogs, and to all the minds out there who want a voice. At times Its severely unrewarding ( like when no one sees your stuff..you think...Man! I should just go watch tv. ) and at times it makes you want to go Yabba Dabba Doo like Fred Flintstone. No Shit!

The fine print has arrived, folks. And we all want it to reach somewhere.