One year

What do you do when you want a year to speed up, only to have the first six months slow down?

Things can change in 24 hours. Life can change in 24 hours. You can go from knowing that you're going to be wearing suede boots at the end of the year to realizing that you'll actually be wearing more sunscreen than anything else. You can go from having a very "this is what I want" life to a "Maybe this is better for me" life. The last few weeks have been like an egg- and only time (we're talking a decade, maybe?!) will tell if that egg turns out sunny side up or scrambled.

Somewhere along the line, I've become a big hypocrite. Yikes! I've written about leather in an Animal Planet diary. I've told people what's not negotiable when somewhere in my head, that could be proved wrong. I expected things to be different, what..a year ago, and they aren't. I thought I'd leave things behind, to find that things and people will leave me. I thought I'd have no time to even breathe, to having a year of time filling to do.

I'm going to miss so many people, things, events, past and situations over the next one year. EVERYTHING is going to change, and what's the thing I'm worst at? You got it, change.

I do have a plan, though. I always have a plan. It takes time, and it isn't always the best, but I have a plan.
I took this from silverstreak's blog.

No thinking. No analyzing. No time.

Let's hope it works:)

Lunch date

I wish this was about me (actually, maybe not). It isn't.

So, today, I went out for lunch. With friends from college and it was great, but that's not what this is about. The weirdest thing happened today.

At the table next to us, there was a boy and a girl, both seemed to be in their mid twenties, and the girl looked very familiar. Both were quite good looking and it even seemed like they'd look together. For some reason, it seemed like they were on a lunch date.

I've seen a LOT of people on dinner dates, and I'll tell you how it normally goes. At dinner dates, people tend to sit next to each other rather than across the table from each other. They're usually whispering and drinking and being obviously in love. They're usually dressed up and flirty.

At lunch dates, I don't know how it goes. But these two people were both dressed normally, casual, even. They were sitting across the table, and it seemed to me like they were either meeting after very long, or for the first time. Heck, it seemed like they were meeting for arranged marriage purposes.

I'd always had such a negative opinion of that, but today, it didn't seem bad at all. It seemed FUN! They were talking, a lot, and really well! From what I saw (Ok, so I listened in a lot. I know it's creepy, but it was a really interesting thing to see- a lot of us couldn't help ourselves). They were talking about their interests, just getting to know each other, and it didn't seem like anything was weird or awkward. It just seemed like honest, relaxed conversation. The kind you have with a perfect stranger, and walk away knowing each other.

I was impressed. I don't know why, but it made me very happy to see a simple, basic date go so well for two people, in this weird, complicated world. Now if that wasn't a date, well, those two are going to be / already are really great friends.

I hope they never read this.

The Life Excuse

We've all heard it, in some form. "Life is short". This, dear readers, is the perfect excuse to do a lot of things, ranging from Bungee jumping and dating to doing a course in animation or bar-tending. Life is short. It's a perfectly valid excuse to really live it, and it goes beyond being an excuse- it becomes a reason. We should all walk on ice, flirt with danger, fight fire with fire atleast once in our lives. Just to know what it feels like, or why we shouldn't. Living is about the experience.

A website I happened to read about in last week's TIME magazine seems to have taken the Life Excuse a bit too far, in my opinion. I'm talking about the Ashley Madison Agency, that was established in 2001, with the sole purpose of allowing people to have and enjoy affairs the way they were meant to be- secret. "Life is short. Have an affair", they say. They seem to have some sort of guarantee on this- especially since the applications are loaded on phone browsers that leave no trace of anything. It is also supposedly the most successful site capitalizing on extra-marital affairs, according to the article in TIME magazine. Read it, here.

Presenting, Mr. Hypocrite of the month (and extendible to MUCH longer), CEO Noel Biderman. Here's an excerpt from TIME magazine - "Humans aren't meant to be monogamous," he says. So would this free-thinking CEO mind if his own wife used his site? "I would be devastated," he says.


I'd love to know what Ashley Madison users think of THAT! While Biderman is (supposedly) happily married, the rest of you lead wretched lives filled with lying, suspicion and (hopefully) guilt. I'm sure the thrills and frills of your affairs are oh-so-fabulous, and there's no discounting that. But, life is short, have an affair? Really? Then why are you married, Biderman, and why would you be devastated if your wife had an affair? Doesn't the same logic apply to her too?

No, because you're a pathetic, infinite curse-worthy hypocrite who wants to live the win-lose situation. Everyone else will lose, because, let's face it, either they'll caught some other way or the guilt and the lying will give them away. Electronic tracing isn't the only way to find out if someone's having an affair. There are a lot more signs- and getting caught isn't all that impossible. So while you sit back with your wife and relax in the knowledge that you live in security, you're acting like some sick pervert prophet who just wants to see society fall apart in front of you. If human beings aren't meant to be monogamous, as you claim, why are you an exception? I know they aren't, but human beings cannot be used as walking-talking-living toys for your ventures either. Clearly, that statement is something you learnt up from some footnote or book summary as an attempt to justify your lousy way of living.

There's a great example of a creep who is using other people's desire to make his own money. He doesn't care if you're life seems short, long, fun or dull. He wants to make his cold, hard cash, and people are falling prey to his pathetic lure. You want to have an affair, fine, it's your life, but don't let this waste of skin profit from that financially. How do you know he doesn't read your messages from his servers? How do you know he doesn't have a profile on his own web-site? If his services really do make an affair hard to trace, how do we know that both him AND his wife aren't cheating on each other? I hope all these are untrue, but you may never know. After reading this article, I really can't expect much better from people. Can you?

And yes, if only I was even marginally better at coding, Mr Biderman, I'd write applications to trace your servers and locate your profile and others' messages and MAKE SURE that those messages are sent directly to every spouse's inbox. Not because of the havoc it will cause those people, but because of the havoc it will cause YOU. I cannot bear to see you succeed in the trail of other people's desires that you encourage in the first place, while being the biggest hypocrite of all time. Atleast live the affair-filled life you're preaching; then I might have a pinch of regard for your honesty.

Really, I'd love to use my brains and my degree to bring you down.
Heck, maybe I will.

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!

Over to The Dark Side

Okay, so the title is an exaggeration. It really is. But I'm in a dramatic frame of mind, and rightly so.

I'm changing, and I can feel it.

Me changing is something that happens quite often, but never with such noticeable implications, you know? Normally I myself don't realise that I've changed. It usually happens in this very sneaky manner, and only when the change is complete do I go 'Whoa!'

But not this time.

Maybe I should start at the beginning. But I don't feel like, I feel like going in reverse and that, again, is not me. Normally I like starting with the prologue, the introduction, and then bring gently to the present. But now I feel like shouting it out from the rooftops, starting in reverse, screaming things out from my lungs simply because I cannot be my own secret-keeper anymore. I feel like getting to the point, and I will. Here goes.

I am finally, finally, not the nicest person in the world, anymore.

Whew. That's all, you ask? Weren't you rude before?
Well, No. Not in the true sense of the word anyway.

Really. I didn't say much about people behind their backs. Hardly. The only people I'd ever hated were the ones that had actually done things to genuinely hurt me. Genuinely. Even then, I'd still give them one last chance. Maybe two. Maybe three. It would've taken a LOT for me to tell someone to actually get lost. Don't get me wrong here, it's not like I cannot use actual expletives! But It took a lot for me to dislike someone, and I usually had concrete reasons. I was never the sort of person who didn't like anyone just because I felt like that person gave me these 'bad vibes' that everyone talks about. I never judged on the first meeting. I'd taught myself that everyone deserves a few chances.

But no longer.

Now, I get irritated by the smallest, tiniest things. People's flaws have been blown bigger by this invisible magnifying glass above themselves, and its an instrument I'm finding hard to ignore. I'm not perfect and I'm full of flaws myself, and I know that, but suddenly I've become more aware of others' than my own. Never before have I felt the urge to call up friends and crib and bitch for hours about some small thing that happened to me because of what someone said. Never before have I felt resentment towards people because of the little things. Never before, have I been unable to let things go. The little things.

*This has nothing to do with my previous post, for those who've read it. *

Funnily enough, I think some other people are changing, too. Check this post out, if you don't believe me. I read that and couldn't stop smiling..it was almost as if the reverse had happened to perplexed. Ditto with Ping.

I don't know if this a natural course that I needed to take in life, I don't know if it's because people eventually get tired of trying to be nice, and I don't know if this is an outcome of circumstance. But for the first time, I'm not so tired anymore. I'm not so tired of putting up with things. I either get myself out of situations or bitch or make it clear that I won't. And I think I like not being that tired, I really do.

Sure, I miss the old me. The old me gave people the benefit of the doubt, nearly every single time. The old me would've been easier to like, I suppose. Should I go back to the old me? I don't know, but I'm not sure that change is even under my control, anymore. I mean, it feels good to get even minor annoyances out in the open. It feels great to express disgust, to express irritation, to express how infuriated things make me feel. It's such a relief, really.

The old me still partially exists, because she's the one writing this right now. The new me wouldn't care enough to. The new me wouldn't even care to analyse the difference because she's happy enough with herself.

It's like two different people inside me, and I'm excited to see who pulls what strings....

This post is dedicated to two people who are probably heralding this change as the bright shining sun in not only my life but theirs, adt and Ping! And to Firefox, who I know will love me anyway.

Little things

What makes and breaks a relationship? I'm sure everyone's pondered the answer to that question at some point in their lives, regardless of the number of relationships they've been in. What brings people together and what takes them apart? Are they two different things? Are they two sides of the same thing?
Worse, are they both...the same things?

I've asked a lot of people this, people who've been successful at handling their relationship, people who haven't, people who've never been in a relationship and people who have and hence don't want to anymore. I've got a lot of responses, but none of them were answers. No, really, no one knows the answer to this one. I'm sure psychologists don't either, because then they'd all have the most successful relationships on the planet, and I know for a fact that that is not the case. If someone figured out the answer to this one, he'd have figured out what can effectively be seen as the secret to life. People all over the world would have their problem solved, a ubiquitous problem at that.

All I could get, however, were that a shocking majority of people said that it was the little things that finally did it. The little things not only brought them together, but it also took them apart. The very same things, apparently. They finally get to you. 'You assume life is all about these big things', someone once said to me. 'You hold up a trough together with all these rocks and suddenly the little rocks start falling through the holes, creating more space for the big ones to fall, and before you know it, you've got an empty trough with two angry people fighting to throw it at each other.'

The little things. The teensy, tiny little things. That get to you.

the way you dance to that beat
the way you obsess about things
the way you drink. the way you eat
the way you sing.
the way you look when you sleep
the way you lie
the way you lose things. the way you keep.
the way you cry.
the way you love pretense
the way you lack respect, too.
they way you treat others, and hence
the way others treat you.
the way you think you know it all
the way you start to joke
the way you can't handle a fall
the way you're broke.
the way you cannot do what I like anymore
even though you used to
the way you complain when you're sore
and while I'm still trying, too.
the way you play the blame-game
the way you are with my friends
the way you act tame
the way you react when you're tense
the way you are about PDA
the way you give me space
the way you talk, the way you say
the way you greet. your face.
the way you love. the way you think
the way you judge, gauge.
the way you're always on the brink
the way you change.

I wonder if it's true. What do you think?

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.

*Whining alert*

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.

The pursuit of happyness

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...

Liar, Liar

They're everywhere.

If you haven't spotted them yet, you're either one of them (which I realised only too late, that there's a very high probability of almost everyone being one of them) or you're still blissfully unaware, like I used to be. But facts are facts- people outrageously lie about their lives, especially academically, in India, and that is a huge contribution to what makes our education system so unfulfilled. Really, I think that is one of the primary reasons my education has really strayed far away from the wholesome path.
everywhere.
Honestly, there are three things that make for a great education in a great university...
1) Great students (and this is Numero Uno)
2) Great opportunity
3) Great faculty.

However, great faculty play a primary role in bringing out great students, so it gets sort of confusing as to where faculty really come in. Be assured that they are really important though.

However, Indian Kids seem to have got it all wrong. Sometimes you can't blame them- there's intense competition for very few seats in virtually any course that you wish to take- heck, its easier doing an undergraduate degree in Harvard than getting into IIT, and I've heard enough and more people tell me that it is easier to get into Wharton or Harvard (if you're blessed with work experience) than IIM. And going by the way CAT is, I can certainly see why.

But there's a vast difference between Indian students and lets say, American, or British (or any student community worldwide, for that matter.) The difference is this- Indian students just don't know or rather, don't want to adopt a win-win strategy. They work on "Every man for himself". Actually I'd prefer to call it "Every liar for himself."

So instead of forming proactive study groups (which is, by the way one of the top five things students do when they join college), Indian students wade through waters on their own, and they much prefer lying to their batchmates. What that is going to accomplish, I really have no idea and I probably never will. I mean, sure..we're all competing with each other but let's face it..since we never help each other, we never really learn. Ever. This is like doing a degree through correspondence. What's the point of going to an environment that's so close minded..academically, you only gain large lumps of disconnected, disfigured, mugged up pot-pourri.

That sort of explains why even after three whole years of doing a degree, many people don't know as much as they should.

There are people who help, learn, work together. There really are. But this constitutes a miniature section of the madding crowd. The rest would rather lie. If you ask me, its ridiculous. Why play down the work you do? That makes you sound like a fool who doesn't deserve what he's got. It only takes credit away from you. Worse, it makes you look like you're a cheat.

If I can pull together a couple of hours of serious work, I'm usually so happy about it that I go screaming it out from the rooftops. I don't want to hide behind some door and slog it out quiet and alone, and be treated with surprise when I accomplish something. I know I don't want people to say.."Oh, when was she even working for this? I didn't know she was that smart." I know I don't want people to say.."Oh she's a liar..she says she's out shopping but she's actually being two faced and studying."

People don't want to admit they work because it makes them look nerdy. It makes them look focussed, smart, boring.
I hope people are smart enough to realise how stupid the previous sentence was. Trust me on this, smart is all you've got working in life for you. Stupid people are even worse than smart ones. Studies have shown that Most people would rather date someone smart who's headed somewhere in life, and shows it, than someone who's a fool who discounts the worth of a good steady head.
Don't ever be incapable of intelligent conversation, really.

What I don't get is how People actually are out all the time, like they claim to be, sleeping, chilling, yadda yadda yadda and they still do better than the ones who worked and said they did. Does that mean they actually worked without telling anyone (How stupid) or their brains are genuinely better equipped (How unfair). Either way, its weird. I'm really sick of people lying all the time. "No, I don't know how to do that, really" and ta-da! They actually do, and it shows.
I swear, if I know how to do something I'll gladly teach someone before a test, just so I can prove how oh-so-smart I really am.

Anyway, everyone wants a good success story, folks. If you're ever successful, its nice for you to be able to tell people what you did to get there instead of "I did nothing really". Its not being modest, It's being stupid. People can look through you now. I know I can.

For those of you who've been honest, and helpful to your peers, I hope you continue making the education scene here a better place to be in. For those of you who don't...You know when you lie. You think being selfish and self-obsessed is the way to go.
That way won't stretch out very far.
I sure hope it doesn't anyway. Be assured that you don't have any positive chi on your side, anyway.

This was not written because of any particular instance. But do an engineering degree here and you'll know what I'm talking about.

surface

I ooze goodness
atleast i think I do, I believe I do
and that belief makes it all come true
and most people happen to think so too
except sometimes.

sometimes things bother me
a little, and sometimes it gets worse
and worse, and pretence is such a curse
that pretty soon I'm mumbling sinister anger under my breath
and I try, but my patience reserve has reached its death
and I still stop myself from being myself
because things bother me sometimes.

And its a nuisance, really, to let it all go
that isn't constructive, and believe me, I know
but the world's like that. You don't really have to show
people how you feel. How tiny, miniscule things get pricky
inside and how dealing with it, smiling, is more than tricky.

So sometimes I shut up, fade out
but the boiling continues, it won't burn out
and sub-consciously I'm seething, because people don't get
that people sometimes get affected by the things you've done or said
however little, those rocks do create a rubble
and before you know it, i've burst my good bubble

and i say things I never meant to say
and I absolutely ruin my own day
because truth is, I think i do possess goodness
and any negation of that makes me feel helpless
and that lava explodes, it steams me up
and I become someone else.

Three hundred and sixty four days,
of the nice me. But i always lose it on that one remaining day
and now its many, many more days a year
is this what I've become? That's my constant fear
because truth it, I used to ooze goodness
and now, its way below the surface
and I think its time I look for it, and bring it back to life
My lava needs to make way for the me that's right.

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.

Is it...legal??!!

You know how I'm feeling right now? It's the feeling you get when you realise that something's happening right now, and at some point you know you'll look back on this and feel warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

Yep, that's right. This is my last blog post as a twenty year old. My last Blog post as illegal rammy, the last post of childish innocence, the last fleet of information from my not-yet-an-adult-worldwide mind.

A lot of things happened this year. Probably a million but I'd say the most important ones would be:-

1) I started blogging. And boy, what a difference it has made to my life.
2) I've started getting better haircuts. Its true, last year was hair-horror.
3) I've grown to appreciate experiences more. Like college, and how I'll really miss it even though I've spent three years hating a lot of it.
4) I've learnt a lot about people, life and love. (No, this is not my miss universe speech)
5) I've become somewhat more mature (Don't go overboard with this, I will still react like I used to.)
6) I've become less dependent on things and people's behaviour. (which is a good thing because I'm not letting the world dictate how I feel.)
7) I haven't fallen for anyone. (and hence, all the maturity, sense and sensibility came into play!)
8) I've understood the meaning of "Experiences" and what they can teach you.
9) I've actually been called "the wise one" (My personal favourite)
10) I'm now officially open to any kind of cuisine. I have favourites in them all. (talk about being good date-material). Even south Indian, I've started to take a liking to (much to my mom's liking)

I get the feeling 21 will be even BETTER.
Or is it "legal" me talking?

me and her

The monstrosity that is Me
I try and try to escape her
I don't try hard enough, it seems
I try harder only in my dreams

I wake up to her, belong to her
and she revels in that closed bridge
and I try to change her, I hold her hand
She won't comply with anything I'd planned

I understand her better than anyone else
But she will never understand me
She wants to emulate all these people around
I'm screaming for her to do it, she doesn't hear a sound

She smiles and pretends. it's always been this way
I can't stop her, she's always so tense
I know what makes her happy; I know how to get her there
But complacency and her have always had a love affair

and then she feels that certain way about her life

and I can't watch. I can't be with her, when she does.

She falls back on cousins, named sympathy and pity.
Its a shame she doesn't make the most of her self- sharp and witty.

While she looks on, and on, at all those straight lines and lights
wishing she was part of it. Wishing she was proud of it all
I'm the one that waits for her back in her pillow every night
I'm the reason she doesn't give up without a fight

But she says all that, and she forgets, again.
Her memory blinds her to her thoughts that have been.
No one can help her but her, no one at all
And yet I catch her. I can't just let her fall

Maybe its the truth- she can't stand up for her own self
Maybe she wants to, but everyone needs a little help
Maybe I'm giving her that, and maybe its not mine she wants
maybe I'm every memory that scares her, disarms her, haunts.

...and THAT, my friends, is the question....

Of all the mad, bizarre quirky things our body can do, none have awakened my insides like the Flight or Flee response. Sure, there are the hiccups (which I am yet to fully understand), The fuzzy foot cramp that makes you feel like you're full of sand, The head rush due to sitting upside down, the adrenaline rush in general, the Heat/cold rush when you swallow a bundle of ice....

But nothing really shakes you up like the Flight or flee response. I first heard about it on “Inside Eddie Johnson” on Nick, years and years ago..and I thought..”What a load of rubbish!'. But if you've never actually experienced it, then you need to go get yourself into some situations! I mean that! Then, you will finally know what I mean. And if you fight, and win, there's nothing that can make you feel better. If you flee, and escape, you might either feel like the badass who managed to make a run for it, or astonished that you didn't actually fight! Either way, you can't look back on it without pride, if you execute either response tactfully and a with slight bit of glee..I can guarantee that!

In general, I'm not really the careful, non-aggressive type. I've been known to be pretty-darn-volatile, (whether its needed or not is going to take up a lot more than a blog post) and even better (or worse, depending on perspective) -I can also be quite vocal and screechy. So, as you can probably predict..I vouch for the Fight response. Sure, the Escape provides some thrill, but Throwing in something verbally or not(Even better) atleast makes you feel like you gave it your all. You may walk away disoriented, dismissed or worse...but you can atleast walk away with some kind of participation certificate hanging asymmetrically over your partially bruised, yet still-existent Ego. Eventually, you'll even get better at it. (I'm still waiting for that day.)

My take..don't walk away. If you are waiting for the opportune moment...Its there, hanging somewhere around your zone. And fleeing will only disregard its rare occurrence in our lives.

And if you have a whole new take on this...Spill!

V-D-Day!

Its all true, folks.

Yes, giving someone a teddy bear or a balloon or whatever with "I love you" written on it in red and white- that is the shit. True love. Like the million others that will receive the exact same thing. Because THAT will truly convey how special it all is to you. Well done.

Yes, heart shaped anything-that is the shit. Never mind that the whole world seems heart painted on valentines day, never mind that your irises just might become heart shaped after the extravaganza, never mind that the heart really isn't shaped like that, and god knows how pink got into the picture. Gag moi.

And yes, spending all your money on valentine's day- Way to go! Why surprise someone when you can take them out on the day when everyone taken everyone out? You simply must go out on a day when every place is flowing with more love-struck mongers, just so you can all look at each other and feel so privileged, for the lack of privacy, and for the love you all share in that crowd. In twos, of course.

Oh, and lets not forget- spending your pockets off is the only way to show someone you care.
Huh? What's that? Did you say something about spending time and being nice through the year? I didn't quite hear.

Now, now, don't worry. If you do feel like something's wrong, open up the mushy card with flowers and words written on it, and Know that this is indeed, what stuff from the love shack is made of.
Oh, so this card this year has red roses and last year's had white? Oh, I see.

Or, you can spend valentine's day, my way.
Go pamper yourself till your toes want to smile. Get a nice haircut. Get some retail therapy. Get a nice movie, some chocolate, a drink you'd never normally buy for yourself, or that one thing you've always wanted to buy.
Take a bubble bath. Turn up the volume.
Meet friends you haven't met in ages, or the ones you never have time for.
Prank call people (a group favourite).
Do something totally different for the person you love from the bottom of your toes. Surprise them when they least expect it.
Or give them some breathing space.
Shock your parents by doing something nice. And then get privileges you could really use.
Throw a party. God knows, your friends in Bangalore need one.
Think beyond red and pink.

Mr know-it-all Cupid is actually a baby, after all.

Also....No offense meant, personally, to anyone.

Not a hoot!

So...I have an Owl Problem.

Firstly, when people tell you an owl makes a 'Hoot' sound, you picture it as something friendly, maybe spooky.
They're wrong. Owls can sound like the voice you've imagined death to have.

Really. They screech like they're not-so-cute little owlie insides are being torn apart by some deathly force that we can't see in the night. You know, them being nocturnal and all. Its great that they sleep during the day, but how am I supposed to get some shut-eye when they scream like a dozen pregnant screams all the time?! You'd think it would stop for a few hours, but it doesn't. It goes on for hours and hours.

To make things worse, now lil' "Hell" (Thats owl's nickname) now has a friend. I'm assuming "blowhorn" (named oh-so-fondly after The blowhorn) is female, because otherwise, two Male owls talking and screaming every night for hours is just...gay. Imagine. I don't know about owls and their mating lives, but anyway..
So I live on the Eleventh floor and these two owls just won't go away. They sit on a higher level ledge and, well..they're there, screeching away all night. I know.
Simply Delightful.

I can tell you that I've tried everything. I've shone light on both owls for ages. Ive used many (hundreds) Of powerful camera flashes and this red laser light on them. I've screamed back. Ive left lights on. What I can only do now, is throw things at them. But I can't bring myself to (as much as I'd dearly love to whack hell and blowhorn with absolutely anything).

So, I did some research. Here's what I found.

- This pic with an owl's face superimposed on a pig's snout. Talk about optical illusion!


-It sucks that I'm here, in Bangalore.Because there are companies called 'Bird buster' and 'Bird-x' that make products and ensure that these pesky birds are gotten rid of in the most natural, non-harmful way possible. NO teary good-bye, though. Just...Hello sleep!!
I couldn't find a way to order the products and get service here though. Not yet.

-It turns out that owls don't like a change of location. Basically, they're leeches on wings. They find a place and stay there for upto 10 years or more!
Now, you can imagine how good this makes me feel.
-I also read-"They talk all the time- hooting, squealing, shrieking, whistling, trilling, grumbling--even barking. They are best known, however, for a call that sounds like, "Who cooks for you.. who cooks for you-all?"
Lol...No believe me, it sounds like...."CCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRAWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"

-"Big owls have deeper voices than small ones."
Both these owls are huge and scream like There's no tomorrow to scream, too.

-"Owls are birds of prey and often hunt at night."
Then how come they're screaming throughout?? Why can't they atleast eat??!

-"Owls have held a variety of symbolic meanings in culture and have represented misfortune, death, wisdom and prosperity."
Right. Now...Didn't the same sentence have completely contradicting implications?!!

-Also, Online, Someone asked people the following question at a forum:
"How do you make an owl sound with your hands?"
Here are the responses:

1- Put hands together placing all fingers on right hand in the crevice between left thumb and forefinger. Put thumbs together and clasp left hand around top of right knuckles. Blow softly through the small crack between thumbs (just below thumb knuckles).
Once you have mastered a single note by doing this , you can make a waving motion with your left hand (still holding on to right hand) and it will waiver the note!

2-I don't give a hoot.

3-Stick your thumb
in its, er...tum.
(Beats me)

4-Simply make a fist as if to cough into your hand put your hand over your mouth and say the words hoo hoo ho hoooooo.
You can also go to walmart and purchase something called a hoot tube, it is used for turkey hunting.

I tried 1 and 4. They sound like something, not quite owl-like, but like a whooshing noise.

I'm going to go and try using it on the owls now! I'm secretly hoping the owls get scared or angry and leave.

I'm totally welcome to any suggestions on how to get rid of my Buddies, hell and blowhorn. And if you're asking yourself why I'm writing about owls, Just try sleeping with that noise and if you haven't bought a gun or blogged about it or complained incessantly, you're completely deaf.

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.

Britney Spears......

Ha! I did that just to catch your attention. But really, if Al Gore wants Greater attention paid to his global warming campaign, he should just rope in Britney spears. If you can't beat em, join em. Right? Right.

The times-are-a-changing! Taare Zameen Par is THE movie. Really, it moves you to tears. It does have moments of relief thrown in, though. Neat Music Score , has that element of freshness and on the whole, a very well made flick. Aamir Khan must be grinning all the way home, to the bank, singing in the shower, whatever. So must the boy, Darsheel. And no reason why they shouldn't folks! This movie single handedly increases your respect for Aamir Khan by many, many notches. Finally, more people are looking at learning disorders in a new light. And that = progress! Step One!

The new Tata Nano promises to be kind to your pocket! Step Two, I say. We can either be sceptical or Happy. But really, there are so many times when I've seen four people holding on for dear life on a bike in India and wondered why I couldn't do anything about it. Mr Ratan Tata, however, saw the same scene and DID decide to do something about it- Thumbs up, really! My only worry is that the car doesn't have power steering, something that I (selfish spoilt brat, I Know) really need. I mean..I can't swerve round and round and round just to park. I'd be the killing machine to look out for on the roads then, for sure.

I couldn't watch We the People, But Blogs being taken that seriously here is definitely step Three!! *Squeals of joy!* Indian Bloggers need to be taken even more seriously. I mean, do we just know it all or what? ( My modesty helps, I'm sure. lol.)

The MacBook Air is out! DREAMY! Its making headlines everywhere...now if only I had a cushy job with the money to buy myself one. Sigh! I mean, check out the details! Don't get me wrong, though. Charlie is the man! (charlie is my laptop. He's the most Patient, Loving Laptop I know. Gives me NO trouble at all.) Rock Solid Dependable. Aww, he's all jealous of MacBook Air.

Its holiday time and the combination of the sunset out my window and my Cuppa in my hand? Step 5. Engineering students have a weird schedule, which means I'm oh-so-relaxed right now. Definitely a Plus!!

Times-are-a-changing! Now if only my hits would actually go up, I'd be ecstatic. It helps that I put up a hit-meter DAYS after I started Blogging. Oh well.

*Slurp*....Cheers!!

Who are you people kidding?

Nope, we don't have it. We don't have true freedom when it comes to writing. You think I can write whatever the heck I want to here? You think You can start a blog and write what you want? Ideally, you can. Ideally, I can. I should be able to, right? This is my space. I can write what I like.

Wrong. I can't. No one can, anymore. There are lines we can't cross, as writers, people, human beings. Racist lines. Objectionable lines. Factual Lines. Offensive Lines. Abusive Lines.
Petty Lines.

Maybe its different for a Blog, because Its not mass produced. Its that way for written works that are published anyway.

For instance, If you've ever read this book
Then you probably know the volume of controversy surrounding it. I've only recently started reading it, and I'll admit..this book, in a word- interesting. Sure, a lot of it is extremely debatable, but most people have failed to see the bottom line-Its The author's OPINION. That does not necessarily translate into fact. That does not, put down any religion or faith. A religion that millions follow, and they're worried about the opinion of one writer? Doesn't that seem like they themselves don't have enough faith? Isn't the general public belief, then, subject to doubt? Are followers of Islam so worried about one published work? Or two, or three. In my humble opinion (And I would like to stress on the fact that I mean no offense) Islam has a long, long history. It runs long and deep, and considering the number of followers it has, No one has the right to question it or comment on others' faith. I respect those who follow it, for it is their belief, their right to their religion. No one can question that. This respect, for that matter, goes for any religion, just the same.

I can't even stress further, considering, for all you know, I'd be the next target. But it seems to me that People should stop worrying about individual opinions regarding religion and just move on with their lives. Religion, in any case, is a personal choice, in my opinion. You offer it to someone, they either take it, or leave it. If they do choose to leave it, that does not by any means make the religion any different, it does not render it less pure. It only means that someone had a different opinion. Its sad to see that writers don't even possess the right to express their opinions anymore. Writers who write literary works, possibly of fiction, mind you. Not journalists who report events.

There are so many stories like these...consider Author Taslima Nasreen, (and if you haven't, click here). Claims of her written work being incorrect with respect to detail regarding people and events can be resolved by a disclaimer or retraction, but the Anti-Islamic nature of her writing rendered her no place in the world. Is that the price to pay for writing what you genuinely want to- Death threats and an escapist life? What motivation do writers have to really put themselves out there then? What ever happened to writers just penning down their thoughts? What happened to poetic license? What happened to it all? If these fundamentalists had their way, then every book would be fact. Raw, politically correct, carefully written fact. And no civilization grows just on fact. Culture spins on a lot more than that. Culture spins on opinions, imagination, ideas, thought, feeling. Suppressing it all means suppressing the very spirit of people who just want to express themselves. I thought we, as a race, had overcome these basic issues. But we haven't. There's a long long way to go before we do.

There are lots more stories that way, that were told, and the authors paid heavily for it. But we need our freedom of speech back, before our poetic license gives way to petty arguments about preserving religious beliefs that can't be shattered by a few books. People who do have that faith, need to seem like they really do have it. Ignorance is bliss, and ignoring these opinions if you don't like them, would probably leave everyone a lot happier. Otherwise, we'd only have stories that would never be told.