Tuesday, February 23, 2010

'Cause you're stupid baby when you're sane.

Over the (very very little) years that I have spent living, there's just one thing I have been able to establish for sure; that I like crazy !
That's one of the extremely few things I have ever been good at. No, there are no claims of havin balls (err..!!?) of steel here. I am as un-adventurous as un-adventurous gets. You will never hear of me jumping off planes, climbing the Himalayas, going trekking across the Annapurnas..yada yada.. when I say 'crazy', I mean strictly of the kind where there isn't a risk to human life involved.When you let go every once in a while (or twice or thrice in a while :P) it's the crazy-ness we bring in our lives that teaches us that it's okay to screw up sometimes. It's okay to make a fool out of yourself sometimes. It's nice to be able to laugh at yourself. That it's so much for satisfying to laugh at someone else (*evil grin*). The point being, crazy is good, crazy is fun, crazy is me :D

So now that I am at it, just thought it would be nice to 'record' one such activity which, one would say, is capable of epitomizing the concept of craziness.

I am eighteen.
I got my self registered on...wait for it...wait for it...shaadi.com.
Hilarious,isnt it?
In the beginning, yes !
Ideally, a common WOMAN's (enough of the patriarchal 'common man'. We contribute to the sex too, you know?) opinion about such sites wont be too high. But the amount of information you havto fill in is appalling. From your physical appearances to job to education to annual income to family background to medical history to the colour of your crap to BLAHH ! They strip you down. I gave the basic mandatory information and topped it with cheesy vibes of being a "convent-educated-good-homely-girl-next-door" in the "about me" and some "pati-parmeshvar-ish" bullcrap in the 'qualities I'm looking for in my partner' section.

All fun and games. crazy is on. it gets crazier.

For that half-filled-lollipop of a a profile, I got some thousand 'potential grooms' and my phone kept buzzing, giving me notifications about the same. Creepy desperados,much? I think so.
Cut to next grand (read:crazy) step. Add a picture. Being against morphing and plagiarism of any kind, I decided to post my own picture. Never before did I feel as pretty in my life. The number of the potential grooms who were interested in 'knowing me more', increased by the second! My phone boob-shaked like a slut.
The constant messages had to stop.
This had to stop.
I did the obvious.
I changed my number for one of my best friend's. It was all taken care of. I loved the 'crazy' attention I got on the cyber space and how the best friend swore to kill me if he had to read anymore of my msgs from the 'shaadi group'. It was AWESOME!!!

Crazy turned creepy by the day. From being interested in profiles only, 'potential grooms' started being interested in the (drop dead gorgeous good) looks and gave (not so) subtle hints about possible meeting in the near future. Finally creeped out, I decided to delete the profile that got me my 15seconds (nah..a hell lot more than that) fame online.
Turns out, there's a price to pay for 'crazy'. There isn't an option of deactivating what I 'crazy-ly' started with ever so much enthusiasm. The bomb had dropped. I was stuck in the matrimonial mockery for life. My world was flashing in front of my eyes now. Flash by flash. My end seemed near (aah..the good old melodrama!).
And then it happened.
I did stumble upon the darn option of deleting one's profile. They asked me the resaon for it. An option being 'met my partner', I struck that*sighs*.
'where/how?'
'through friends'
*sighs more*.
And that was that. with a congratulatory msg from the shaadi group for having found my partner
*going breatheless, sighing*
they had successfully deleted my account.
Shall miss it..NOT!

P.S- Not dying alone after all, huh? :P

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Must.Not.Die.Alone !

I actually pondered over as to how to begin writing this one without sounding too arrogant or self assured or delusional or bookish or offensive or.. well ..arrogant ! So I think it's best put straight The point being, I am not un-date-able! I would like to support my argument with the information that I have more than enough number of references that go on to prove the same.Cut to a freaking century later(aah..what would girls be without the power of exaggeration!So FINE..A couple of months) since I last dated..All is well; life's good until that one day.

That one day when I was sitting on the toilet seat and having a 'serious' discussion on the phone..Yes! It's the ever gratifying seat where most of my life changing conversations and thoughts have occurred. The discussion was about the sudden abundance of single-hood dawning all over the lives of most of the tolerable people I know. The conclusion was rather amusing. We figured that it's a clear case of 'its not you.its me ' syndrome. We can't blame the unreal number of creeps we are surrounded by because we cannot and we should not compromise on the basic qualities that one must be in possession of, if one must claim of possessing 'human tendencies' of any sort.

So it shouldnt be completely immoral or haughty on my part to list out the things that I, personally, cannot stand in anything masculine!
FEW of the million reasons why I am going to die alone...

PRONOUNCIATION.
You cannot be pronouncing words wrong. It's, almost, illegitimate. How con you ignore basic rules like you bite your lip (NOT sexually) when you pronounce a word starting with 'V' and you round the lips while pronouncing a word starting with 'W'. Simple things go a long long way. Now how hard is it for parents to 'invest' in quality education for their child so that they dont grow up to be jerks with pronounciation issues?!? And  if pronounciation wasnt bad enough the 'accents' make me want to put a gun to my head and press the trigger!

GRAMMAR.
I could've clubbed it with the previous 'issue' but I genuinely believe that this deserves personal attention. For starters, that thing that grows on your head is 'hair' and NOT hairS. Now that we are at it, DIDN'T WENT, HADN'T SAW...etc..is ALL WRONG!! shockin,'no'? Now the good old 'NO', literally translated from our national language. Whatever happened to the "isn't it?" family. I could go on..

CLOTHES.
White pants are not fashion. Period

MUSIC.
I am no musician myself In fact, I understand extremely little of it. However little the knowledge, I will Never Ever Ever call 'Imran Khan' ( of the woofer-amplifier-I- wanna-kill-humanity-with-my-music fame) a musical influence in my life and then dare to think that I am making sense. YES ! I have had real encounters with a few of these.

CONVERSATIONAL SKILLS>
Even if I generously overlook all the above, how can I be with someone I cannot converse with? It's not humanly possible to make that work.

These, with a few other 'tests' along with the smaller ones ('he's not a messy eater'. 'takes bath by choice'. 'doesnt ALWAYS think about sex'. 'gets along with my friends'. 'a little money wont hurt'..yada yada..) determine the type one won't mind dating. As shocking as it maybe, I have found none in the entire freakin' city!
Okay. That would be a lie. I have found a few. Some, I have dated too. Most are my best friends. But the species in extinct now! It's clear. The universe is conspiring against me!

Sigh.

Not to self: Must.Not.Die.Alone !

Friday, February 19, 2010

to be or not to be.. "COMMITTED!"

A lot of things in life are rather pissing off. To go on about all of them would not only be stupid but incredibly tiring. But I MUST write about that one thing that pisses the fuck out of me.

"Are u commited?" 
yes to a lot of things..what are you asking about?? "huh? what?"
"Arreyy... committed! Do you have a boyfriend?"
HMMMMMMM... "err..not right now".
"So you are not committed; You are single,right?"
a bigger HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.. "Yea..I guess.

Chances are one wont see where I am going with this. Chances are one might think that I am overreacting. But heres the deal : Committed is not the opposite of single! I don't understand why and how did this particular term come into usage like that, but whatever the origin, it;s wrong!

To start with, all (99% of) the words present in everyone's vocabulary is (err..should be) holding the meaning as stated by the good old dictionary. I cannot call a table a spoon without having to give an explanation to the curious 'looks' that will follow. Then how can you use "committed" in places where it can actually be seen as being out of context? Now nowhere in the dictionary (And I've checked!) does 'committed' have anything to do with a relationship.
Yes. its awesome if you are in a committed relationship.So under that scenario, you are in a 'committed relationship' and not just 'committed'. It holds really less (read:zero) ground on its own. Also, one could be committed to work or to friends or to a lot more things that go beyond having a boyfriend/girlfriend.It IS, in fact, possible for two people to be seeing each other or dating each other(yes.those are the words used in the REAL world, however lousy those terms are!)without being committed. Now how hard can understanding this be?

I like a boy. He likes me back. We hang out a lot. We may hav held hands(and more :P). We even let people (only close friends) see us as a couple.But what if we are not ready for commitment yet?
Are we single then?
-NO!
We are dating ! Two plus two is four and it is a perfect world. More than anything else, the 'pissing off' factor arrives primarily because I dont have the slightest clue as to how I can go about answering the darn question of me being committed?

Yes. I am committed to the people who matter; I am committed to the things I am passionate about; I am committed to, say, ze Shahrukh Khan (I watch ALL of his shady cinema).
Am i single?
Also yes.
How can I be both at the same time,one asks?
MAYBE because it's not illegal to have a partner and not be committed to him/her from the day you meet. MAYBE because it's not possible for commitment to dawn all over you in a moment.
MAYBE because being single and being committed arent antonymns to each other...

Monday, February 15, 2010

I Hate Red Roses. Period.

So it came.
It saw.
It went away.
Yet another Valentines Day. The 90% of the population that is so gung ho about the damn day knows rather little of its history and origin. The other 10% is too cool to be a part of this (way exxagerated and stereotypical) expression-of-love day. And then there are these 'days' that preceed the D-day;love,hate,hug,kiss,slap,chocolate(?),teddy(??)...yada yada..like the cupid infested 'festival' wasn't cheesy enough ! *dramatic roll of eyes*

They say it's just another excuse to make one's love count. Really? Now how can one day out of an year of three sixty five be enough for makin one's love count? Isn't it just another excuse for burning a hole in one's pocket because suddenly the purchasing power of an individual increases miraculously by the pressure of pleasing one's better half? Indulging in cute valentines(read:superduper cheesy!) couple activities and couple foods and couple drinks seem to be the only way to "celebrate" the event. The flowers-and-chocolate gift hold a special place in my heart. It's not so much to do with the unreal price tags attached to them on this very day but with how it's presumed to be THE gift every single female species on the planet will appreciate equally. Honestly, chocolate addiction is particular of those with less (read:zero) action (of the physical kind) in real lives and red roses are ..well..creepy ! PLUS no handbook prescribes them as the ultimate gift items, so I really don't know who propagated the idea in the first place!

One might think that a lot of my malice/bitterness comes from the fact that there hasnt been any sudden declaration of undying love for me by any of the tolerable men I know, but thats not entirely true. Yes. I am surre it's awesome if and when you have a special one in your life you can share this day with..But why would one voluntarily want to be a part of such a loud mockery of that thing called love, is beyond me. Whatever happened to being in love and enjoying that(those) moment(s)without having to spend a grand? To pampering and making your loved one feel special without any occasion? To realising how pointless the-one-day really is??

I do accept that I have been an avid "MUST-have-a-date-on-valentines-or-go-die" kind of person for the longest time. Thankfully enough, I hav grown out of it. God willing, one day the world will too. Amen.

All said and done, Read roses are creepy and I hate them. Period.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

"meter se chalo??"

A bright sunday morning.
I have lazy crazy plans with my lazy crazy friends on a lazy crazy afternoon. Ah. Perfection. I take that looooong shower, smell yummy , wear clothes that bring out the colour of my eyes yada yada yada.....till it's time to leave the house
kajal? check.
gloss?check.
perfume?check.
cash? check.
glares? check.
house keys? check.
conveyance? ch-e-c..errr..HMMMM..
Just when I thought nothing in the world can deter my happiest mood,reality hits me. It hits me like a stroke of lightening. I am suddenly made aware about the embarrassment clubbed with equal (if not more) amounts of harassment that I am going to face while on my quest of finding,or rather trying to find, that one blessed auto guy who'll fall for my pretty little face (courtesy the loooong shower and kajal) and oblige me by giving me a ride to my destination.

So I gather whatever courage ( have and embark upon the unbelievably dreaded journey of getting an auto guy to do his freaking job.

Life and its many ironies.Now, I am a liberal citizen of independent India. I would be more than happy to pay reasonable amounts of cash in return for services rendered. Now the probability of the price being 'reasonable' is as high as my climbing the everest (read: NEVER!); but the point of utmost nuisance is that they dont fucking want to do their job. Now I didn't tell u to enter this profession if you cant handle the stress that comes along with it.
"madam,gas nahi hai" or "wahan se khaali aana pdta hai" or "udhar bohot traffic hai"..n the best for the last "mujhe us taraf nahi jaana!" !

Really?! It's like I am committing a crime because where I need to go might not fall in the way of where his highness wants to go. Does he not realise that his job sheet instructs him to take any given passenger from any point A to point B (of the humble passenger's choice) at any given time. Also, the entire paying process, however tedious and torturous for the poor auto guy (*dramatic roll of eyes*) MUST happen by virtue of the good old meter.

Now if at all I manage to do the unthinkable, i.e, to get an auto guy to get the meter rule on when he wasnt agreeing initially, the war isnt overt. I have involuntarily won myself tickets to the 'crib fest of the year'. It's unreal how he'll go on about how little the money is and how I should pay him ten rupees more than the meter reading because he's so pooor and the world is so expensive. like hello!! if I were in such a brilliant position myself, would i really be sitting in the yellow-green noisy 'dabba'of his!?

So I have paid some fifty rupees extra to reach where I had to, fought with the pussyface throughout, heard sob stories about his life and have successfully got myself a headache. So much for a lazy crazy Sunday afternooon with friends.

I make a mental conclusion about how boarding a bus is way cooler.If only some of the bus passengers could think beyond touching my ass.
Sigh. Well now thats another story..

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Because I am bossed around. Sigh

So you would think after spending eighteen years on the planet you become 'your own person', as it were.You think you are someone who's a lot less answerable to people and you would think that you do only what u want to do. Obviously enough, that's a myth.Being eighteen is overrated, anyway. The evident presence of the people who bring you to the world (i.e, parents, for people who are good at missing the point) doesn't necessarily prove too helpful in the endeveour.
Hence, in this world where you are constantly being bossed around , someway or the other, you do hav some people you love too much to refuse to.
These very people take advantage of the blind faith u place in them... honestly, its appauling !

This particular piece of crap refferred to as my BLOG is a result of me being bossed around by two of such people.
My favourite teacher in the world has urged me to create a blog. Actually, to get into freelance writing. To polish n keep in practice my (unbelievably awesome :P) writing skills Now anybody who knows me would know that I wouldn't care two hoots about any god damn teacher but her.SO here I am, Part of the blog-wagon.

You would think that when you're bitching your favourite teacher out to one of your best friends, best friend would side with you. That's how things work in the ideal world, yes. But if you're best friends with Jayant Parashar, not only are you told how super the idea is but are also nagged and constantly reminded henceforth about writing the god damn blog!

So here I am, putting words to the random-ness life is.

Now, just how bad could 'blogging' be? What if I become one of those published writers of a 'chic-lit' and write about a young girl in the big bad world and how she finds true (and rich) love by the end of it? That would make me very very rich, yes. So even though two of my very respected and loved people are proving to be effective pains in my rather cute ass right now, they could be contributing (secretly, of course) to a rather satisfactory financial standing in the society in future :P Ha! The world and it's ways.

Let the Blog begin.
For me; By me; Of me.