Wednesday, March 30, 2011

This Is My Cricket-Related Post

World Cup, 2011
30-03-11, Tuesday
India-Pakistan (semi final)
03-04-11, Saturday
India- Sri Lanka (final)

So I had a tri-colour patch on my face all afternoon.
So I bought a food+drinks+hookah combo to watch the match on a Big Screen Projector.
So I danced to the 'dhol', each time India scored four runs.
So I 'discussed' the first innings with some friends and some not-friends.
So I was hugely disappointed by India's performance.
So I felt a lump in my throat because Pakistan had only 260runs to chase.
So I obediently went out of the room when it was established that each time I entered, Pakistan scored.
So I smiled for a little more than few seconds when We Won :D

And I'm not really a cricket-person.

Life and its many ironies.

Summer afternoons are gloomy on most days. 
Then there are those days, like today, when you sit in air conditioned surroundings to cheer for a team you only half believe in, for a sport you only half understand.
I think it's the feeling of a country being one.
OR just sudden pangs of wanting to conform.

That'd be all.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

If I Was A rich Girl...

It's the damn summer time. AGAIN. If there's one thing that will make me a very very happy woman, it is some serious retail therapy. There's just, however, a tiny obstruction between my will and my actions; that is, money.
But there are some things I have to get asap.
Deadline : By the end of May.

1) Haircut : Even though I would love a very-short-almost-crew-cut, I would have to settle for the some-bangs-in front-and-layers-at-the-back-cut. Bah.
Rs.400/-

2) Sunglasses : I cannot do without my shades. Even in winters. So I need a pair (or two) of Aldo Herwood Shades to tell the damn sun to fuck off; metaphorically of course.
approx. Rs.600/-

3) Wedges : This isn't so much to do with the weather, per se, as it is to do with the fact that I have not found a decent pair of wedge-heels in eight thousand years. Anyone who knows any place in Delhi where I can get some, please feel free to enlighten me.
err...price on request?

4) Sunscreen : The Cherry Body Lotion from Body Shop. Oh! It smells yummy.. and feels yummier. It is just the right amount of wet and dry. Just what I want  need.
Rs. 495/-

5) Conditioner : L'oreal Parie Total Repair Five Conditioner. I have to have happy hair in summers, for me to go through the day without killing anyone and the conditioner does just that. It's a tried and tested deal by yours truly.
Rs. 150/- (180g)

6) Slippers : Slippers from Ms.Jo, Saket, New Delhi. 
                   Some from Converse; blue probably. 
                   No more Oshos; I have grown out of them.
                   Okay. Maybe ONE.
Ms. Jo- Rs 349/-
Converse- Rs. 249/-
Osho- Rs. 100/-

7) Kurtas : Lots of Kurtas in lots of colours. Dull colours. Earthy colours. With an occasional hot pink, if at all. Or green.. I'm liking green a lot these days. 
approx. Rs. 150-200/-
District Centre, Janak Puri.

8) Frames : I need new glass frames. I've been wearing the same ones for almost a year now; 7months, to be precise. So from light pink, I think I am going to do the classic-librarian-frame-look;  a la Preity Zinta in 'Kal Ho Na Ho'. Probably, slightly thicker, though. 
Rs. 200/-
Janpath.

9) Shorts : I am not going to buy too many this year. I am not going to be very very very adventourous with the colours either. But yay shorts :D The only good thing about summer is regularly waxed legs.
Rs. 200/- (bargain-able)
Janpath/ Sarojini Nagar.

10) Jammies : Bright, happy pyajamas to last me all season :) :) Cartoons to Bold prints, I want them all.
Rs. 50-200/-
Sarojini Nagar.

11) Pink Lipstick: Oh! That I need to stand coyly next to my red one. I don't know what brand though. Of course, it has to be the PERFECT shade. Perfect, as it is in my head.

12) T-Shirts : Cool printed T-shirts from the Men's Section= Must Have.
                     Cool printed T-shirts from random flee markets = Must Have.
                     Cool 'Om'-printed T-shirts from Paharganj =Must Have.

13) Forever 21 : New love <3. Hence, must shop from there for all things beautiful.

14) Nail Paint : Local nail paint in turquoise blue.

15) A straight, short, cotton skirt : Black or Printed.

16) Jeggings : My blue ones feel left out without a black pair, I think. Hence.
Approx. 1100
Lee.


17) Jeans : Light blue well fitted jeans.

I've got 17 on my list, already?
Plus there's this spa I planned to take and this buffet lunc I really wanted to eat. The worse part? I got more I need to add to the list. 
When did I become so materialistic?
I feel content and happy already. And I have just written the list down. Ha!

Anyway, Must get Mum to pay for most.


Friday, March 25, 2011

"Maybe you can be my friend foh-eh-vah"

Remember when we were uglier than what we are now and were gawky and didn't know what to do with our arms for the most part?
Remember your first day in school when I thought your surname was 'Aila' for some strange reason and showed you my cavity in my quest of making you feel comfortable?

Of course you do.
I do too.

School will always be special for more reasons than one and yes we had a blast when we were together. But who would have thought that you and I, of all the people, would land up in the same college?
Sharing our subjects, books, seats, coffee, rum, jokes, cigarettes, money, rides, dreams, aspirations... life! I think it's just strange that it took so fucking long for you and I to become 'us'. It's a shame, really!
But better late than never, right?

Of course we have our share of the boring.
The days we hardly talk. We just sit beside each other, smoke our lungs out, sometimes laugh at the Mithas uncle, correct grammar on fancy posters and contemplate our split-ends along with other sob stories. I like how we don't have any burning need to make conversation all the time.
I like how it's okay-to-be-quiet with us.
Of course we have our share of the boring; Boring, but never stagnant.

Oh! And the mood swings!
How there are days when I want to kill you (out of love, of course) for being too rude.
And then those when you want to strangle me for being too mean.
Friends do not want to do that. Friends should not want to do that.
We, however, are different. Cool-ly so.
(Mean and Rude are NOT different things, freak!). 

From serious anticipation about whether or not we'd have to sleep our way up to the top at the workplace to our little secret theories about all things on the planet; from my 'scripting' your messages to a certain somebody to you taking care of me in the college canteen; from midnight loo conversations to our very very very long walks; from finding meanings to new words in that huge ass dictionary to using the ever so loved theory of being the rule or the exception in every given scenario; I can't help but be thankful. For you.
And sorry. For the world.
Of course I can't express that.. since we're just awkward when we hug each other.
Except for birthdays, of course. That's the 'exception'.

With time, we'd drift apart. Also, our careers (if any) might take us to different geographical locations. Then, instead of a boob job from my first pay check, I will come and visit you wherever you are with that money, so that we can hug and be all awkward and maybe then, I can finally teach you to pout...

Crossing the road would never be the same without you.

"Cya at eight kal?"

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Day 09 - Something you’re proud of in the past few days.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Yaaa... Not too much. :|
Good Night.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

No one said it would be easy...no one said it would be this hard

Even though I might want this post to possess major undercurrents of an intellect so high and of maturity never seen before, that's not happening. The only thing that's on my mind right now is May. And with May comes University-Exam-Time. 


Ugh.


I sound like a nerd. I'm not a shallow person, really. Mostly, I'm not. However, most of my living years have been loyally devoted to the protection of a reputation and an image. Well, in my defence, the 'image protection' program has never been tough, so to speak, as nonchalance about all things important came rather naturally to me. But things look slightly different when you're about only a year away from 'making it' or at least being on a path leading to the same. Things look even more different (badly so) when the result of your first year in college isn't particularly brilliant, to say the least. Hence, serious ass kicking at the end of second year is mandatory. Yes, making up for lost time, undone deeds, attendance etc is a bitch!


I met this old friend two days back. He's become a different person now with his new job and the works. Then there are those I know who are at that crossroad in their lives where they cross the threshold of being on their own. I think growing up is war. It really is. Plus, there's the analysis of aptitude based on bookish details. Yes yes.. we all hate the 'system'; we could just set the 'system' on fire and then poke it all over with a fork. But, we are still part of the 'system'; the one that needs us to study till we've practically shat in our pants and then wipe that shit all over the answer scripts. 
These answer scripts, in turn, determine our position in class, society, life! It's not all bed of roses.
I feel a little lucky though that being a student of literature allows me slight liberty of making my personal opinions matter sometimes.
Point being, MustStudy.
A bigger point? Will.Study.


All this and more, only to reach that point in my cerebral setting where coming back home doesn't seem like an option.


"I'm young. I live in a house my father owns, in a bed my father bought. Nothing is mine..except my heart and my fears and my growing knowledge that not every road is gonna lead home anymore."


I miss Wonder Years.

Monday, March 21, 2011

One life to live

I hate keeping in touch.
It just doesn't come naturally to me. I am not someone who's socially awkward and it's not like I don't enjoy new company. I am (famously :P) called 'the social butterfly' by my people. However, keeping-in-touch with all sorts of people just isn't my thing.

What I hate even more?
When random people out of nowhere accuse me of not having kept in touch with them. Helloooo? If you were worthy of an iota of importance, I would have done the needful. The fact that I didn't, should be enough hint.

I don't have particular fondness for most people, anyway; and that doesn't always help.
Is it just me or is it slightly alarming how I hate so many things?

You know how you're different people to different people? Some people find you funny while the others think you don't talk as much; how you annoy some people and then there are those who adore you; you're the jumpy freak for some and the ever so mature lady to others....
I have different personalities for different people. Of late, that's been disturbing me. I want to be Love, Pain, Anger, Wrath, Bliss... I want to be what I embody; My emotions. My spirits.
I want to be me.
Only me and no one else but me.

Talk about utopia. Sigh.

Bob calls me 'wave'.
"You're a wave."
"Errr.. Like... I have my highs and lows?"
"Possibly, that too."
"And?"
"And that you're always moving to be different. When you're at point A, you think you want to be the person at point B instead. Only, when you reach B, it bores you and you strive for C, you know?"
I smiled.
Didn't nod.

There's no feeling more beautiful than oblivion.
Especially, if it's with respect to self.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Me Myself and I

Isn't it strange that my entire blog is really nothing but some fragments of my bloated ego put together?
Isn't it strange that my entire blog is oblivious to the entire world but me?

My net got conked off for a week.
I'm back now...
to write more about my self and exaggerate my being even more.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Who are we?

I have the world's most terrible cough. What's making matters worse? The terrible smell of paint that is dawning all over my house. So much for freshly-painted doors and windows! I am going to live like a hippy when I grow up. No, I am only half serious about that. But general attitude towards life is going to be bohemian for sure. I cannot deal with the never ending complexities and obligations of the urban, civil world. Point being, I loathe the smell of paint. And petrol. And the smell of wet mud, I'm sorry, is overrated.
You love the smell of petrol.


You know it's weird but when people go away, they never completely fade away. When I say 'go away', I don't particularly mean in terms of life and death. I mean it in the sense of when people go away across time, space and distance; both literally and figuratively. They never completely fade away. They remain and reside as memories. As stories.
Things they say or do often, almost secretly, stay with us forever. Each time we go the restaurant they frequented or wear that pair of shoes they adored, we're reminded of them and the things they did or said. It's their story entwined with ours. It's fascinating, really. Life, as we know it, could be seen as this series of intersecting lives, incidents and events that unfold free of any external control to deliver itself to its completion. Doesn't it completely suck, this missing of people/things that aren't around? One can't ever completely 'get over' someone/something ever. There are always these remains. There are always these leftovers. Trying or thinking otherwise is pointless, if you ask me.


As 'Inception' like as it may sound, but isn't it like we're living a dream?
Someone else's dream?
It's freaky alright but is it completely hard to believe?
I think it's a tad bit too arrogant to believe that there isn't even a slight possibility of it. Hence, what we leave behind are our stories. Less memories, more stories.


It kills me a little more everyday to anticipate your departure from the Delhi Airport. I am contemplating coming to seeing you off on the D-day. I have been through this before, it's equally hard each time. 
This time, most.
It's almost amusing, but right now the things that strike me the most about you are the times when you were most vulnerable in front of me. Contrary to your belief, you've always been the intimidating one, not me. Even though it's going to make no difference at all, starting today I am going to finish my food a lot quicker. Even though it sounds super cheesy, I am going to miss you each day.


On the days that I miss you more, I will wear your perfume and smell pretty all day.

The little lives that we lead, the little deeds we do, the little thoughts we think; all this and more-

What are they? But, are stories.
Who are we? But, are stories.