Somewhere a clock is ticking

We're always looking forward in life, aren't we? That next job, that new place, that new life. That thing we want, that person we want, that person we want to be. This thing, that thing. We're always looking ahead, because our eyes are programmed to see that way- in front.

But this video a bunch of us recently made for Sutta made me realise that I may be too busy looking ahead to look back. I'm always looking for something else, never truly getting the worth of what I have right then. I might be having the best time ever, and I'm too busy trying to find a BETTER time, trying to find a better place, trying to find what I THINK I want to truly sit back and enjoy it. I'm too busy running ahead to look back over my shoulder.

But when I do, all I see is perfect. I didn't know it at the time, but in hindsight, everything went just as it was meant to go; it doesn't matter if it was according to plan. Everyday was filled with the best I could've asked for. And yes, I've an imovie to prove it. An imovie to remind me that regret is but a trivial part in life- it has no spot in the bigger picture. The bigger picture is filled primarily with the good times. Kingfisher got that one very, very right.

If only I'd made an imovie before. I miss everything, everything I never realised was perfect at the time, perfect in a way that I'd never imagined. I guess all I'm trying to say is that you might think that all you want for life to begin is for something to end- say college, school, hostel, project, exams. Ho Hum, guess what- you've been living life all along. Yes, life IS what happens when we're busy making plans. The good life is the 'in the middle', the filler, the general, the regular. The regular is what will bring laughter and smiles and SIX hours of joy in making a video of your life in a few years. We thought that was a lot to begin with, but can you compress all the happiness (that you didn't even know existed) of Four years in Six hours? You can't. You can barely take out a slice.

Moral of the post? Your parents were right all along (SHOCKING, I know). You'll look back on your life one day, just like me, and hopefully, you'll also find that it lacked in nothing. Retrospect is key to getting that. Things may suck, things may burn, things may go to hell, things may not go according to plan.

You'll curse and swear and cry and hate and in the end, all you'll remember is the love.

Somewhere, a clock is ticking. Ticking too fast, ticking away. I didn't even hear it for so long, and I'll stop hearing it soon enough, because I will be living. As will everyone else.
And the cycle shall repeat.....

Tagged!

I've been tagged! It's something quite simple, really, but fun!
Sure gives you something to post about:) I got tagged by perplexed. (Thanks!)
Basically, if you've been tagged (by me), you've to take the sixth picture from your sixth images/pictures folder and write about that picture. So if you've been tagged, find that picture and post!



I'm smiling. I really am.

This picture was taken in goa, when sutta, sound, minks, kee and me hit Goa! I think..two years ago! It was such a laid-back, fun trip. What you're seeing is what we attacked every morning..it's called the Chocolate Breakfast at Britto's on Baga beach- which became our favourite by far. We were hooked, the minute we got to the place. You get a cup of hot chocolate and a nice, dreamy, creamy chocolate mousse cake. And trust me, that is by far the BEST way to start a day.

So the fun part was..I couldn't actually finish my breakfast, but since it was so good, I'd keep shoving it in, anyway. So i'd be saying "Man, I can't eat another morsel!", while I'd be eating my head off! I even ate up the others' breakfasts, all the while saying that I was just going to die if I ate any more! My friend Radhika once kept calling cake "lovecake" in an attempt to get people to eat it at a party..and I did the same for the breakfast in goa!
I just couldn't bear to see chocolate ANYTHING go to waste.

Anyway, its still fun for the girls to talk about..reminding me of the glutton and hypocrite ways of mine. Cannot eat anymore but still will!

Goa was where we came up with the ritual..our ritual for those days was going to Baga near sunset, everyday, and just sitting on the beach with good food and drinks we'd picked up. It was fantastic. Ah, the ritual. We even tried some sort of revival thing once we came back, but the ritual still remains to be continued in true goa style.

And when it does, you can be assured that there will be a post on it:)

I'm passing on the tag to Radhika, Aradhana, arnika, stargazer, Akaash and shruti.
And Hiroshima, if you'd like to start blogging then I'm tagging you too. (Idea for your first post!)

The fifth of september, 2008

You know when good things happen to you but bad things happen to your friends? The good things just..don't seem so right anymore? uh-huh, that's right. I did pretty well in sixth sem. Well, for starters, the results came bang when we were least expecting it. Thank the sweet kind lord.

Otherwise, I'd have been in the loo and I'd have had even bigger bags under my eyes. (While we're on this..what on earth gets rid of those no-sleep circles? I've tried everything except stain remover detergent, and I really don't want to try that.)

Unfortunately, some of my friends didn't do so well. Which is purely luck based, and in many ways really unfair, if you ask me. Especially since they really did work, you know? You can't predict VTU. Ever. It will crawl up behind you and strike, before you can even respond.

So, weirdly enough, things just don't seem right, even though they are. I'm supposed to be mighty pleased with myself, but I just can't be when there are people around me that are unhappy. I really didn't think I'd ever feel this way (yeah, Us leos can be quite the selfish..well, lions.) But there's a wonderful, different kind of happiness that comes with unity. Personal Satisfaction just can't compare.

Also (and yeah, I am going to put this on my blog) it has come to my notice that students in my department were being bribed by our teachers (But of course) to spy on other students. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing ever? It makes me want to shake them up, and then shake them up some more, and then beg some NGO to give them a life. Donate a life, folks! A whole load of people in college need it!

Note: The students who were bribed, said no. (Talk about show of character and integrity. Sometimes people can really set an example. (Isn't it sad and wonderful all at the same time, how students can set examples for teachers?)

College doesn't even compare with school. My school teachers fell into one or more of the following categories:

-delightfully amusing

-delightfully charming

-delightfully hilarious

-delightfully interested

-delightfully entertaining.

I think I've pretty much made my point here.

And some, some were delightfully life-altering. It's true. They really did make a difference.

Happy Teachers' Day! To every teacher and everyone I've ever come across, for I've learnt something from you, for sure. Just don't quiz me on it:)

I miss making all those personalized teachers' day cards, so many of them.

oldest inbox

you know how, in those black and white movies, people would open up an old steamer trunk filled with half-white, torn envelopes, the pages sprinkled with yellow dust and the nostalgia of a different time left to be opened at will? I have that too. Only, it is called gmail.

For most people of my generation(what is WRONG with me..I cannot believe I said that), getting a gmail account equalled either a hot-shot-geek status, or it meant that you knew someone who was a cool-hot-shot-geek who sent you an invite. Cool and hot in the same term, you ask? I know. Good times. *cackle*

I was lucky enough to know such a person, (lucky me!) and that's how I ended up with a gmail id way before most of my other friends. Punnu, who did send me the invite..said it was one of the last few he wanted to send out. Incidentally, he didn't immediately send one to Aditi when she asked for one( which made her want to hit him) and ultimately I don't know who sent her the invite. But all this unnecessary melodrama just goes to show how coveted gmail was. No shit!

The cool-hot (gag moi) thing about gmail then, was the unlimited storage and counting! What I didn't realise then, was that years later I could open up the Oldest inbox and click on parts of my life that I'd forgotten even existed.
Try it. I did, (this whole idea was inspired by punnu, of course) and I unleashed several good things, several horrors and I cannot begin to describe how lame and ridiculously funny I find my previous self to be.

Disclaimer: I am not 50 years old, as the nature of this nostalgic post might suggest. I am merely coming to terms with the dramatic change in my persona.

So, anyway....(the growing old thing is a subject of much hysteria, I'll save that for later)..things that my oldest inbox made me realise...

1) I, can you believe it, I, me, used to use short forms.
*GASP.*
It's true.
The one thing I truly hate and have detested (for a very long time) are cheesy short forms...I never really went overboard with it but I actually have used "ya". "gal", "u", "c", and a whole lot more at some point.
My take one short forms (and most of you will disagree with me)- things like btw, brb are fine...but "da", "kewl" and the incomprehensible line of things like "xcln" for excellent, "2rw" for tomorrow and "frstrd" for frustrated do two things- one, they piss off the person (a.k.a, me) trying to get what you're trying to say, and two- they actually make the msg look creepy. Its true. Um, hmm.
I'm glad I was never that weird, though.

2) I was way more adorable.
I took effort and time in typing all these super nice mails to everyone, kept in touch, sent mails to my closest friends telling them EVERY Little thing..about my bad hair cut, about my good days, about growing up pains. I'm just in awe of the person I used to be. Don't get me wrong, I still think I'm pretty awesome but back then- I was that and more. We all sent each other mails even giving advice..long long mails...SO Much fun to read now..partially because its funny to check out how smart you thought you were back then.

It's true. Judging by my inbox(and many people will agree)- as you grow older, it is only a matter of time before you are doomed to the laziness that prevents you from bothering. And of course, we have facebook. I know for a fact that I won't be reading facebook wall messages or superpokes 5 years from now with half as much interest. Facebook inbox messages, maybe.

3)I was also really lame.
This, (based on subject matter in my mails) doesn't really require more explanation.Cough, cough.

4)I didn't know how funny I was.
Okay, so its a “what were you thinking, you little oaf??” kinda funny, but hey, who's really reading?

5)I've changed a LOT.
Boy, this is cool. You've just got to try it. It is sort of like reading a diary.
A conversational one. If you've got saved up conversations on online messengers, those will do pretty well too.

I know, i know. Not quite the steamer trunk, eh? But mails keep you going “what the...” for quite a bit, guaranteed. I can't even remember the reasons why most of them were even sent. The worst are those questionaires where you fill up stuff about yourself like, “what colour are you wearing” and “chocolate or vanilla, summer or winter”..and everyone used to come up with what we thought were such smart alec answers to those things. Ha! Kids, I tell you.

They never get old:)

Poopy Piggy on the railway, picking up stones....

Keeping in sync with my poetry phase (Now, now...don't groan just yet)..I have decided to do two very brave things. One, To print a poem that I wrote YEARS ago in school. Now before you assume that this is yet another far-fetched, seemingly glassy eyed, very contemplative mood-ish poem, let me assure you that all this poem will do is accomplish the contrary- Show you my sheer, pure, unadulterated stupidity.
Two- to print this in this colour. It is not me.

But wait! This is not how stupid I am now! (That, is a separate topic of discussion, one that some of my friends would simply love to talk about endlessly, over coffee or beer, at your convenience).

This is about how silly I was in school. See, this is a poem I wrote then, And this is proof to the entire education system- this is what students are driven to out of sheer boredom in class! Do something soon, to stop such childish madness!

Also, I would like you to keep in mind that this was a long time ago, back when I was jobless, childish, immature, had quite a ridiculous imagination, was extremely fond of rhyming scheme and overall, quite silly. (Ha! And you think those things have changed.....).

Important: This piece is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any person alive or dead, is purely co-incidental. (Anyone from PESIT will know what I mean)

POOPY PIG- A short, musical poem.

I Sniff my snout and it is dirty, so I begin to dig.
Confused? Don't be, for I am Poopy Pig.
I Live in my luxury sty, filled with extra hay
That I empty out when it gets too smelly, each may.
I wiggle out and blush, I see the love of my life...
Its Pimply Pig, the beauty who I want to make my wife!
I run out, flash my dazzling smile, and wink
I suddenly feel embarrassed and turn a bright pink.
Pimply winks at me, and I feel a delicious shiver
She pouts her lips out and I then start to quiver!
But wait! She's smiling at someone else! Now, I'm hurt.
She's my queen, and now she's such a big flirt!
She's looking at Prince-y pig, that rich piece of crap.
One of these days, I'd like to give him one tight slap!
Prince-y gives her a daisy, and she beams with pride
Oh, how it hurts to see that jackass at her side!
He whisks her away on his bike, and I'm left in the cold...
Its simply awful how pretty damsels go after gold...
I decide to go get a job, and try earn some money,
and kick prince-y's ass. Now that, would be funny.
I try a bunch of things, from farming to software
and All i could buy, was new clean underwear.
So I contemplated stealing, but I know that's not right...
I'm a principled Pig, and stealing gives me a fright!
So I decide to shape up, and look like a charming guy,
But I'm wayyy too fat...It won't work...Sigh!
So I go back to my sty, feeling so sad
And there was Pimply Pig! The joy drove me mad!
She hugged me and said, "Oh, Poopy, You're the one."
"You're my sunshine, and besides, you're so much fun!"
"Prince-y may be rich, prince-y may be fancy,
But he's such a jerk, and oh-so-pansy!
He has no character, and He's such a bore!
He talks only about himself and my ears are sore.
You, however are sweet, nice to talk to, and kind...
And I'd love to date you, If you don't mind!"
So now, finally, Pimply's mine, 24*7
and I, Poopy Pig, am in Piggy Heaven.