Exams Start From The 24th.

Who has two thumbs, must study but gets drunk all the time instead?

Sigh.

Food For Thought.

Don't you just love food? Like, love it more than anything else?

Well, I don't mean all the time. I, for one, have phases with my food cravings. I would like to believe that I have a generous appetite, to say the least. But most of the friends I eat with may beg to differ. Nevertheless, hungry or not, food is spectacular. Magical, even. And healing, of course.

The smell of garlic and chilly as it makes that crackling sound in heated butter is bliss. Add to that a little flour, milk, oregano and chilly flakes and you have the perfect white sauce for a yum pasta. And mushrooms. And cheese. Oh! Cheese. It's milk's leap towards immortality. Is it just me or does it make the world around really happy and musical? Just like in the movies. It's nostalgic too; reminds me of chaotic Sunday mornings of about year 8 of my life when my mum had the time and will to make pizzas for me and my friends with little cubes of Amul cheese. Amul cheese and tomatoes and garlic and chicken chunks and different coloured peppers with some seasoning. I remember feeling fancy because we were the only people I knew who got the fancy peppers in red and yellow, apart from the regular green. Peppers, if eaten right, can be a delight in its own. Crunchy peppers of all colours, crunchier lettuce leaves, onions, smoked chicken and dollops of olive oil along with some white gram and creamy dressing; toss it together, add some white feta cheese with it and some lemon zest and feel good about life. And then they say, salads are boring. I loathe salad of any kind for the simple reason that they're too..errm..healthy. But I humbly make an exception here and there. The sight of bacon and it's glistening body wrapped around cheese is mouth watering. Then there are the charmingly wafer thin ham slices which make the otherwise mundane bread rather colourful for snacks of all kinds. I am a huge fan of sandwiches. Anything between bread somehow rises up in my edibility radar. I think the simple cucumber sandwiches for tea, though are prodigies of the British rule, are highly underrated. The buttered slices of uncooked bread slices with thin-sliced cucumbers between them..ah! Slightly toasted and slightly buttered are my favourite form of bread with hard boiled eggs.

The use of chicken stock is always a delightful addition. Stock brought to a boil with coriander, ginger and garlic topped with appropriated dashes of vinegar and soya sauce makes me want to spend all my cold winter nights consuming it. I have never particularly liked the ever-so-popular momos, though. They're flour balls with a little chicken in them. But the fiesty red dip with it.. now that's the stuff! Talking about 'the stuff', Indian herbs. spices and food habits in general take the heart away. Minus the burps and its cousins, of course. The cube of butter melting over a hot parantha makes me want to cry with joy. That, with pickled carrot and sourish yogurt; that's the breakfast of the hills here. Sigh. The chicken curry with its overdoses of garlic and garam masala is extra terrestrial in it's being as it is spicy and full of heat yet humbling and gentle. The Butter Chicken is elevated taste, to say the least. And the kababs and tikkas; each melt-in-the-mouth bite can make one ponder upon its hours' marination in asafoetida (heeng), curd, cream etc. The delicacies of the tandoor are a personal favourite, especially when they are served with 'salad' (pronounced 'sa-laaaad') that comprises round sliced onions and fresh tomatoes. Tomatoes with basil is a treat, isn't it? Tomatoes and basil steeped in extra virgin oil and lemon zest - a go-to curry. Another go-to for me is definitely mac and cheese. Of course, alfredo fettuccine/penne is the adult's mac and cheese. However, nothing beats pizza. Nothing!
Nothing but potato wedges dipped in mayonnaise. 

Sigh.

I think I'm going to have a food orgasm. And I've only just written all this down.

Rachel- "What would you give up, sex or food?"
Joey- "Food..No, Sex..Food..Sex..Food..Sex..OH GOD, I DONT KNOW, I WANT BOTH, I-I WANT GIRLS ON BREAD!"

- F.R.I.E.N.D.S

^Can totally empathize!

Don't you just love food? Like, love it more than anything else?

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.

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.

Because I got high.

That awkward moment when you are convinced that if pricked, rum is going to flow out instead of blood.

Yes, I spend way too much time on Facebook.

The week that was has had it's share of 'moments'; good, bad, public and some not so. The points of revelation were :

• Being Home-alone is EPIC and totally manageable. Makes you responsible.
• I am an alcoholic. For sure.
• I don't take well to emptiness/loneliness on drunk nights.
• Crying is relieving. 
• Ross and I are going to die trying outdo each other.

So spent some nights home, did some unmentionables amongst others; spent some nights out, did just as much amount of unmentionables and then Mum got back. I think I missed her a little bit too. It's only when you don't have something staring at you in your face do you realize its importance.

Yes I am as uninspired to write as uninspired gets. Lots on my mind, I guess. So without further attempts of stringing some vague words into apparent sentences, I leave you with- 

Happy Drinking. I miss my Old Monk(s).

Soon...

Saint Valentine, Here We Love.

Growing up, Valentines Day was a big deal. Blame it on my all-girls schooling, if you will; but nothing was more gratifying than holding a tacky looking teddy (who in turn held an equally tacky heart!) in one hand while the other hand skillfully maintained a balance between the flowers and the chocolates, that some guy bought to express his undying love for you. Things are different now and fortunately so. I am an appreciator of 'growing out of things'. Maybe not so much appreciator, but definitely a practicer of it. Back in the day, it really was nothing short of a pageant;  a pageant that each girl had to win. When I say 'each', I include the especially lame yours truly too.

Man, I miss school.

The day was spent with my best friend (who also happens to be one of the only-two-readers-of-the-blog-who-know-me). Shopped for some kickass stuff from Forever 21, ate and drank at Hard Rock Cafe and spoke about everything from ants, to birds, to bees, to her, to him(s), to me, to .... you get the drift, right?
Oh! And the food.
The food that we couldn't finish; the food that made us realize that the phrase 'yummy-in-my-tummy' should be taken so much more seriously. It was heavenly, to say the least.
After buying some rather expensive memorabilia from Hard Rock, I felt a stage of almost complete content. I realize it more and more everyday that, whoever said money can't buy happiness, didn't know where to shop.

I can't even begin to explain the feeling I get when I spend some serious money on the things I want more than I need. It's relieving when you walk out of the store with shopping bags in your hands, feeling like a Goddess! Maybe I am exaggerating more than my due, but I truly genuinely believe that 'when I shop, the world gets better.' I am a big bag of warm fuzzy feeling today.
Yes, the feeling is courtesy my extremely (seemingly) materialistic endevours and my best friend :)
No, there's nothing wrong with getting more than a little excited about it.

So now with my new Forever 21 (party) clothes, there's only one thing I need (apart from shoes and some more clothes and a bag), and that is a kickass party to go to.

Till then...

Me and Machines.

I don't intend to be offensive here but I am one of those who swear by the stereotypical bracket that women and technology do not gel as well as the female-kind might believe it to. Of course, I am ready to entertain any exceptions as and when they arise.

Okay, chuck all of that! The blog is about me and the only person who's going to be written about is me. (Yeah! Right!)

So saying that 'I am technically challenged' would be an understatement. I don't get it, this technology. It has taken me a hell lot of crap to master Facebook and check my mails when necessary on my very basic laptop. More than that, I am blank! No phones, no ipods, no laptops, no cars, no gadgets; they never excite me, never have. I haven't grown up with unrealistic fascination with the PS3 and hot-wheels back in the day were really the extent of 'gadgets' I have ever understood. Truth be told, I don't get them. I have never wanted to.

When most (read: all!) people you know take 'driving lessons' post their tenth grade Board Exams, you wake up to the rude realization that you're about five years too late. As usual, I am going to attach more than necessary amounts of exaggeration to my next 'quest'.
Yes, yours truly is learning to drive. I think the little information that I don't even know how to ride a cycle should be stated here. Nevertheless, I took my first driving class EVERRRRRRR yesterday and I would have to admit, it didn't go half as bad as I had thought it in my head. Well, that's also because they teach you in 'special' cars which give the teacher the same controls as you, minus the accelerator. So really, I don't think there was too much 'driving' involved from my side anyway. Also, yesterday he told me about the steering wheel and the accelerator only.

Today, brake.

The teacher was a lot more appreciative of my jokes today. I like talking to people. I do. I should probably get into PR or something. In my, what you may call, small talk, I totally asked him if girls were more stupid when it came to driving and other related questions.
He answered in the negative.

I am still going to take my time into making up my mind about the same. It's going to happen only after I learn to drive; which is going to be a while...

Tomorrow, clutch.

Survival.

I got inked today :)

I still maintain that the most negative aspect of getting a permanent tattoo is, ironically, it's permanence. One can't hate or love anything or anyone forever. 'Forever' is intimidating.

Anyway,
Tattoo-making hurts like hell, yes.
But it makes you realize how pain is serene.

Like they say, "pain is temporary, pride is forever"

I don't know about the 'pride' bit yet, but the pain is going away.
The pain from today and that day.

Still gives me the chill though.
But I'll live :)

Starry Nights.

GET THIS.


This entire hoopla around the New Changed Zodiacs, true or not, is definitely bugging.
I am not a big believer or understander of Astrology, as it were. But I have taken fragments (if not all) of my identity from my sun sign Libra. To change from that to be a Virgo suddenly is beyond comprehension. Isn't the topic of Astrology a little like that of weather? It's a conversation starter.
"What's your sun sign?"
"Lib...err...Virgo! I guess!"
It's going to be rather awkward.


However, if you come to think of it what if this is the beginning of the end, as it were? The whole realignment of the Sun and the Earth; what if this is part of the whole 2012 end-of-the-world? I am a believer of the possibility of 2012, yes. 


Capricorn: Jan. 20-Feb. 16. 
Aquarius: Feb. 16-March 11. 
Pisces: March 11-April 18. 
Aries: April 18-May 13. 
Taurus: May 13-June 21. 
Gemini: June 21-July 20. 
Cancer: July 20-Aug. 10. 
Leo: Aug. 10-Sept. 16.
Virgo: Sept. 16-Oct. 30. 
Libra: Oct. 30-Nov. 23.
Scorpio: Nov. 23-29. 
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29-Dec. 17.  (Yep, this one is new)
Sagittarius: Dec. 17-Jan. 20.


I have always liked my star sign. I have always thought I fit the bill in terms of characteristics, traits and all that jazz. Now Virgo just seems painful and boring! Yawn.


I just never thought anything like this would affect me, however minutely. 
I feel like I am facing a like of an identity crisis here. 
Yes. Sometimes I exaggerate.
Most times I don't.
Do the math.

Guilty.

So the movie+dinner didn't remain just that.

I have sinned.
Guilty as charged.
Sorry?
Regretful?
Ashamed?

Aloof.

It's cooler to feel anything than be this distant, really.

Till more untainted times...

P.S- Always believe that particular guy who once called you selfish/deceiving/deceitful and remember that even though it hurt like hell back then, he was probably right.

"P.S... Guess what? "

I think you are finally put under the same header as 'Grown Ups' when your mother officially allows a drunken marathon of a House party at your house and voluntarily chooses to stay away for the day!
Greatest Party Ever?
I think so.

Few reasons why I am going to remember this for a while...

• It was at MY house :D
• He-Man came :) :) :) And helped me clean later and was, I think, the only 'sober' guy at the party.
• Jaya and Preeto might win awards for Absent-ism
• I have a hickey from the party and the who/when of the matter remain unknown.
• I had to un-clog my sink off Denzil's puke *throws up a little*
• I got very high
• It's been only two days since, yes; but people haven't shut up about it yet so yay. 

The good life.

It would have been even better had life included slight dozes of studying, less mental complications, very little melancholy, Niharika, great food, no body weight, lots of money, less classes, more winters, no stalkers..

I am half serious about the last one. Stalkers make me feel important.

Yes, I am a lame person.

Sigh.

*Sky*

I don't have as many friends! I don't! Maybe slightly more in number than what YOU do, but that's not a lot. Regardless, I know who my friends and that makes me quite content with my life. I am a 'social' person; whatever that means, but that's that. I do not see why I must be apologetic about it. This has been a point of concern of not only YOU but also of most of my friends. I fail to understand how it's a fault.

Last night YOU chose to make an appearance in my life after over two months now, only to scream at me for no apparent reason. I can't believe I took it, it's very unlike me. So I'm not pissed that you assumed this authority over me that you really don't possess, but I'm pissed that I was bothered even though I can't place you in anything else but a big bubble of in-consequentiality.

'You have too many friends and that makes you a cunning person; you are cold-hearted; you don't respect me or my love for you; you are not a real person but a projection that people seem to like'- these seemed to be the general areas of your anger/frustration.
Your explanation to having taken so much time in saying such beautiful things to me was that you were intimidated and were gathering courage to say it to my face! Really now. I am not that cool! Maybe intimidating is one of my 'things', strangely so.

I need constant validation from people and approval from the people who matter. The fact that I end up doing exactly what I want in the end is a different story, but I am very anxious about some opinions.
Does that make me a bad person? I don't know.
Does that make me emotionally unavailable and disrespectful of love? I don't think so.
I don't know where the fault lies, really. I don't want to waste any time of my life finding out.

Facebook has always been very important to me. As lame as it may sound, it's true. There's no helping that and there's no explainable logic to it. I am addicted and it's just as hard to quit as smoking is.
After a very long time, I did something to prove a point to someone else but me; I am off Facebook.

I can see how most people will not/do not think of it as a big step but for me it is. It is huge and extremely life defining. Hell, I had to smoke slightly more than the usual the second I deactivated my account. :P Habbits are hard to kick, especially the bad ones.

Will I be lying if I said that YOUR call had nothing to do with it?
Yes.
Will I be lying if I said that YOUR call was the only reason to do it?
Yes.
Will I be lying if I said that I don't miss Facebook already?
YES!

Maybe it is time for a change.
Maybe it is time to give up one of the addictions.
Maybe one day I will give up smoking.
Maybe one day I will give up thinking about him.
Maybe one day I will hug my dad like I mean it.
Maybe one day sex will become more than just sex, again.
Maybe one day I will give up my phone too.
Maybe one day the world will be okay about me having more then one person I like to call my best friend.

It's true;
I have many friends.
I have the friends I want and there's no changing that.
Not yet, anyway.

Mind is Tiffany-twisted, She's got the Mercedes bends

'Hotel California' by the Eagles is a classic. It is a huge deal coming from me because music isn't particularly my thing. As shocking as it may be I don't have music playing on my laptop every time I switch it on, I don't think I need to be listening to a particular playlist when I'm in the car and a different playlist when I'm in the bus; you get the drift, right? Music isn't really my thing. Hence, my 'list' of songs is rather select and, if I may say so myself, classic. No, no snob comments here; I am a hardcore Bollywood-only listener too. That's what MTV plays. Apart from that, It's all very Hotel California and Alice.

Regardless, this post is about my Tiffany twisted mind and my Mercedes bends. Yes, contrary to popular belief, it's Bends and not Benz.
I had read somewhere a while back that the song talked about how materialism traps people. The reference to Tiffany is about the famous jewelery store.'Bends' is used in the sense of the weakening condition; also, as a Bend (hindrance) to progress, courtesy the material trap. Even California, as a state, is a symbol of good life and prosperity.
Ever read so much into a song? If it's not the English Undergraduate student in me talking.

After this reading, I always thought I fit the bill completely with my Tiffany twisted mind and Mercedes bends. "We are living in a material world and I am a material girl."; Madonna sure knew what she was talking about. For me, holidays, for example, were all about going to pretty places, staying at pretty hotels, looking pretty, doing pretty things; basically an epitome of prettiness were what my ideal holidays were. None of that trekking, getting dirty, not caring what to wear, not spending too much money, travelling cheap; it never worked for me.
Never, until a this Sunday.

It was A's time to go back to her forsaken Dehradoon plays. The fun week was over. Hence, we decided to go along with her for a day. It was all good until the 'we' reduced to 'I' as the others couldn't come due to xyz reasons. Now, I am not particularly a travel person, even less so when in a bus to a place I know nothing about.. Still, a friend is a friend is a friend. I decided to go along.

Took metro till the bus station, which is really far. Now 10pm in the night at Delhi for three girls unaccompanied by anything male isn't the safest bet, really.  We got ourselves the tickets, A, her roommate and I were sufficiently equipped by now in our AC Deluxe Delhi to Doon bus. I felt very cool having taken up this endeavor.

Delhi Bus Station Departure : 22:30 hrs
We met this group of five boys in the bus- lots of fun followed. They were very sweet and lively people and all this without the hints of creepiness or bad intentions. For some reason, the three of us without any prior discussion, fake name-ed them. It was very silly, yes. But it would have been sillier to correct them after they passed our 'Is He Creepy' test. So A, Roommate and I were Sanjana, Ahana and Aira, respectively. The seven hour journey saw us sleeping, talking, laughing, eating, drinking (whiskey in thums up with the boys :P) etc. The chai and smoke we caught in the 20min break the bus took were truly special.
Dehradoon Bus Station Arrival : 4:50 hrs.

I had changed to boxers in the train (yaa.I've always been brave when it came to public changing!) and 4:50hrs, Dehradoon is very cold. I had fallen in love, already!

After an epic of a trip with all things special and fun, I returned. Alone.

I never thought I had it in me to manage it. The bus broke down on the way, our money was returned, I had to board a random bus to Delhi; all on my own. I befriended this boy, Abhijeet who was on his way to Indore for some sport trials; we talked together, laughed together, slept together (errr..on our respective bus seats) and flirted shamelessly in Bengali. Reaching Delhi, he was also fake number-ed by yours truly, obviously! I ate at McDonalds all by myself and then took a metro and further an auto and reached home.

All in all, I think the trip has made me appreciative of things that are not necessarily gilded, sparkled and Tifany-ed. I liked this whole 'on my own' endeavour. I am way to dependent on people and things, it's true. But now, at least once in a while, I can shake off some Mercedes bends off me and become a cooler person.
Amen to that! (Not a god believer. Don't think his name should enjoy the status of starting with a capital letter. More about that, some other time!)

'Hotel California' by the Eagles is a classic.
 

Much Ado About Nothing

Working Parents.
They aren't bad. Really.
There are a lot of perks of being born to them;
You get more money, more permissions, more freedom, more friends.
But there are those times, like now, when you're down with dengue. Yes. Even I though only poor or ugly people got that. Clearly, not anymore.

I have almost recovered now, though. But it does make me stop and wonder that it would have been nice if my mother wasn't working all the damn time that I needed her; if she could come to the phone every time I called her; if she hadn't left the house to work each morning that I woke up with a hell lot of fever. I've grown up in a society where kids are fussed over for no rhyme or reason, Anything they do is cute. I think seeing those shabby little annoying monsters capable of any activity of any kind seems enough reason for appreciation. My brother and I were always cooler than that, or so we thought. Our working parents left us with maids who were nice to us because they were getting paid to do it. In the playground, only that kid can cry about each wound whose very fat mother is present in the background, bitching about the pretty young thing of the block and her new found sexuality. We never had any of that. I never had any of that. No wound was deep enough, no fever was high enough, no issue was big enough!
Hence, I cried less.
No. That isn't a bad thing at all.

But did I not deserve my share of fussing over about bullcrap? My personal area of much ado-ing about nothing? People need attention. I know I do. Only, I get it from other people for sometime now.

I like my mom. A lot.
I try and hang out with her as much as I can.
Just that,
sometimes I wish she did too.
More evidently.

She has got to love nobody...

The success of a clubbing night party can be measured based on the following parameters :

• the puke generated.
• the random hook ups of the night.
• the friends you make in the loo.
• the men/women willing to grind with you through the night.
• the possible fuck up.
• the pain in the body the following day.
• the drunk calls made to the love(s) of life.

Anyway, Wednesday night. What a night! 

Happy Birthday T and the best birthday ever, for sure. 

THE PUKE.

No scene was created, really. It was a little after one of us had had her fill that she innocently slipped away to let out. Personally, I think party pukes should steal the show. No, this is not being sadistic one bit. I don't want for anyone to poop anyone's party. But there is something about your puke that makes you legendary. I understand being identified by one's puke is not everyone's ultimate dream but having been a part of some of the greatest puke stories, myself, I can't help but feel sorry for people whose pukes haven't made a mark in World History. Sigh.

Anyway, "the puke generated"- CHECK.

RANDOM HOOK UPS

Amidst all the dancing, screaming, drinking, smoking and other nonsense, one of us went missing. The fact that she was the one in possession of maximum mood swings, vulnerability, general hang ups in life and the maximum intake of intoxication at that time, did not help too much. A frenzy was launched, obviously. Suddenly the humble little Urban Pind seemed like a huge ass mansion. Love a person, hate a person, you CANNOT lose a person. Finally, the back of her head was recognised, courtesy the helpful bouncers and the photographer. A sigh of relief was soon cut short as while pulling her away, we found her face stuck to this thing with very eager lips. Getting a drunk, horny and big person to stop the 'action' is harder than one could crack it up to be.

Sigh.

Anyway, "the random hook ups of the night"- CHECK.

LOO FRIENDS

Ideally, when you go to take a leak, you do just that; take a leak. But when has 'ideal' been a favourite word, anyway? So, one of us goes to the loo, only to bring back a companion. What do you know? The new companion was gay and being surrounded by us (since we are not particularly ugly), gave her immense pleasure. Yes, she chose to be very evident about the pleasure, inappropriately so. She claimed to be a DJ from Mumbai, amongst her other claims. We did wonder why all of her 'claims' about self included her vigorous touching of our body parts.She danced and kissed in manners that I might not be too willing to mention. Anyway, seemed like a sweet person, however sexually charged. We didn't mind her little over the top dance moves either. Ah, Our humility.

Sigh.

Anyway, "the friends you make in the loo."- CHECK.

GRINDING ACTION

One of the (many other) advantages of partying with very close people is that you can dance slutty with unknown people on cheap songs and no one judges you! Paraphrasing what was previously mentioned, none of us looked completely ghastly hence there wasn't any lack of attention. Also, no one reallllyyyy wants to say no to a guy who can dance, right? Fortunately enough, we all managed our own personal grind-ers for the night. Obviously, the gay loo friend refused to leave are side hence, every now and then we almost gave in to our bi curiosity...or wait! was it just me? 

Sigh.

Anyway, "men/women willing to grind with you through the night."- CHECK.

FUCK UP

I know how there is dramatic rolling of eyes every time one hears how 'teenage is hard'. That, however, is not going to stop me from supporting the fact that it is. Yes, somewhere down the line when I'm facing my quarter/middle/end of life crisis, I would probably kill to come back and yes, it IS a hell lot of fun; However, it has its hardships. One, of the many, being that the most fun things you ever do has to occur (most often than not) under the veil of a lie to parents. 

Over the past few years, I've realised that the only time my mum would call me on my phone is when there had been a death in the family. No, not even then, actually. If my call log is traced, the last call by my mum is when I was ringing to my cell because I couldn't remember where I had kept it. Point being, she doesn't call unless it is an absolute emergency! Now when you're bringing up your kid with that insight, it is not cool when you think it's funny for you to suddenly decide to call on your kid's cellphone!! 

yes. SHE CALLED! It is hard for us to fathom the intensity of the drama that would've been caused had we been a little more drunk, or a little more close to the loud music or a little more naive in lying...

Sigh.

Anyway, "the possible fuck up.'- CHECK.

BODY PAIN

I don't think I need to waste any writing space on this. Hangovers and bad ones, at that are factual element. The fact that we chose to not sleep through the night at all and continued a mad house party the next day with more people, didn't help matters.

Sigh.

Anyway, "the pain in the body the following day."- CHECK.

CALLS

There is that moment, every time you are under the influence of alcohol, that you want to fight this unbelievable urge of embarrassingly calling a person! This usually happens right after you're done dishing out some major pseudo philosophical crap about life, death and all the in between. The calls maybe for various reasons, generally designed around the emotion of love.

You call people you are not 'supposed' to have feelings for, to tell them you love them.

You call people whom you had only subjected to your hard exterior, to tell them that you miss them.

You call people who haven't been the nicest to you but you can't help thinking about, to tell them how they need to get out of your life.

And some others...

As embarrassed as you may be the very next day, you must stop to ponder over one beautiful thing; that you feel. that you love. There is nothing more precious than that.

So at the climax of my high-ness (?) that night, as I smoked like there is no tomorrow, it hit me. It hit me that I had no one to call. How can I not have anyone that I want to make a drunk call of love to when I am too drunk to think straight?? It hurts. Really.

So there I was, stubbed the cigarette and went back to being touched by strange men on pretext of dancing. Was it only a coincidence that the very next song was 'Poker Face'- Lady GaGa.? "...No, he can't read my Poker Face... She Has Got To Love Nobody.."

Sigh...

Anyway, I have a cold after one million years. It is a strange feeling.

P.S- I don't like the man I am with these days, anymore. I miss calling my guy, 'guy' over 'man'. As much as I loved the whole 'older man' part, it's starting to tire me out. Also, he is too nice for me. There is too much pretence from me to keep this going. Sex isn't keeping anything intact anymore... though, he IS the best I have ever had. I like imperfections; keeps me sane. This is too much pressure. Also, he probably wants to and will have to 'settle down' soon. I have always had a problem with the phrase 'settle down'. It is way too demeaning. Point being, I'm lost. Sometimes we don't get each other and sometimes that becomes a little too clear for our liking. He calls me 'kid' and I refer to him as 'Good English', but amidst all the cuteness is a lot of chaos (READ: urgency to break free). I like to be in control, I feel incompetent otherwise. Feeling stupid is not my favourite feeling. His 'kid-ing' me around is nice, alright but a little clingy for my liking. If only i knew clearly what my liking was but this is not it, I know. I hope.

Go on, call me a fickle minded escapist, if you will.

"...She Has Got To Love Nobody..."

The Thong and other Things.

So i am not exactly good with 'girl-things'. Okay. That didn't come out right.

I don't think there's any better way to say it but here's the deal- I freak out buying sanitary napkins and lingerie. I can't do it. I don't know why. Condom buying has always been so much easier than I-pill buying. I dread the days when friends decides to send me to buy napkins and I-pills by hiding under the garb of it being an emergency. Anyway, after living, what i would like to believe is, a quarter of my entire life, if there's one thing i know for sure it is that the maximum all the embarrassment one faces in life is courtesy ones friends and family. 

BLAST FROM THE PAST.

I remember the first time i ever bought the Dracula pack (read: sanitary napkin) was when i was in the eleventh grade. Funny story (as always)...friend1 decides to lose her 'flower' (F.R.I.E.N.D.S reference; read: virginity) to friend2 in friend2's house, which ,by the nasty humour of the universe, happens to be in MY neighbourhood. Here I am, oblivious to what my own friends are about to do to me, bunking my Accountancy tuition and making merry. And then  my cell phone flashes *friend2 calling*.

Me: friiiieeeennndddddddd2 :) :) what's up?

Him: Ya. Hi. err.. so we sort of did it today. And she's bleeding a lot now. errr.. i don't know what to do... you need to come over and give her one of the napkin things!!!

Me: YOU HAD SEX??? awwwwwwww. but i'm not home. i can't get it.

Him: BUY ONE!!

Me: what? you mad? i can't!

Him: DOOOOOOD !!! she NEEDS it!

Me: fuck you friend2! bleh. i'll see what i can do... asshole pervert bastard!

Him: ya ya. Come quick.

So much for friends making life easier for one another. So i go over to the chemist and use the softest pitch known to mankind and tell him to give me one. He, like a dog, senses my fear and almost as if to take my case presents me with this volley of options. How i want to tell him to shove so many things up so many places in his own body. Anyway. I finally make the damn decision, get it in a black bag and take it over to his place. Turns out, the 'bleeding' is the indicative blood drops of..errr.. 'the flower being taken'. 

Yes. I almost slapped her too. More so, when she told me 'maybe you can take it back! I don't use this brand'.

Moral of the story : People who know nothing about sex, must not have it!!!

Never bought another one since. Evidently so.

TODAY.

I had to buy a thong for a Best Friend. Before my sexual orientation is questioned, it is in a Practical Joke sort of way and not 'come be my kink fest' way. Though I am bisexual... No. I am not :( :( But i want to be. The coolest people i know are Bisexual. I just find girl-on-girl creepy. Ah. Now that's another story.

Back to the thong.

Given my phobia of buying lingerie ( I think it has a lot to do with the first time my mother noticed my 'developments' and took me bra shopping and I was supposed to wear it and then show it to her and she told me if it's the right fit and other technicalities. This drill repeated the next few times I needed one too. Yes, Any child can be scarred by this!), buying a thong was really not my idea of a great afternoon shopping spree, post lunch. Yet, the losers you call your best friends must make you do things you loathe, consciously and otherwise. So after lots of pretending-to-buy-something-else faces, I gathered enough courage to pick out this leopard printed slut of a thong for her. It is the mother of slutty undergarment. Just touching it gave me little shivers. I then asked the next obvious question 'What? It's supposed to be one size for all?'. To this, you would expect a normal verbal reply, wouldn't you? I did too. Only, she thought a demo will get her a hug from me, maybe. How else would you explain her choice of stretching that tiny piece of cloth to it's maximum glory only to show me that it can fit anything from a 28-32inch waist. Disturbing? I think so. I decided to make the purchase. No. It had nothing to do with the sales woman's unethical tactics.

Now she better like it, my friend. And it better fit.. Not that I'll ever see *throws up a little, at the thought*.

OTHER THINGS.

My mom's husband and I don't really talk. At least, we haven't for as long as I can remember. Our relationship? A little twisted; a little strained. It's not that big a deal, really because you don't miss the things you never had, right?

Anyway, today His Highness decided to tell me how he doesn't know what is up with me and how he should and he tries to be a better father than he is and a lot of related things that didn't seem to make too much sense to me. Conclusion being, we are going to, as a rule, indulge in lots of pseudo intellectual activities on the lines of appreciating the Arts- the only likely common ground for the both of us, right now. 

For me, it's not so much about getting to know my sperm donor better. It's not about it at all, actually. I am, however, looking forward to embodying the whole culture of cool kurta clad, English speaking Indian women who carry a spiral bound notebook in their hands that wear metal bangles and roam around displaying ever so much enthusiasm in heir Kajal lined eyes about the culture and heritage of India and the world. This, with so much excitement about the one million and one great plays and movies i am going to watch; so what if it's with what my mum chose to marry. It will be fun. And the cherry on the cake of this entire 'bonding exercise' is that it will be followed by compulsive culinary experiences. Bliss.

Date #1. This Sunday, it is. Movie. 'Divine Intervention'. Looking forward to it. :)
Hence, summing up 'The Thong and other Things'.

P.S- I have fallen in love with 'Fool in the Rain'- Led Zeppelin all over again

<3