I understand how scissors can beat paper, and I get how rock can beat scissors, but there’s no fucking way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Why the hell can’t paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can’t paper do this with people? Why aren’t sheets of college ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I’ll tell you why, because paper can’t beat anybody. When I play rock paper scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, oh shit, I’m sorry, I thought paper would protect you, you asshole! - Anonymous.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

the celestial world is on fire

We change. we grow up.
We fuck up. we realize.
We hurt. we love.
We're still teenagers.
We're still learning.

Youth is changing now. Exactly one month later, technically, my teenage dream will be over. Over with the self sympathizing words of "twenty is pretty good too". Seven teen-ful years vanished in asteroid dust, with faded memories that might not last long. Only the sketches of pretty people, pretty places, pretty times.

I remember Teenage years had come with a lot of expectations; a big group of friends, sneaking out of house, late nights under the stars, getting out of the town, telling secrets, feeling what it's to fall in love for the first time, road-trips, dancing around, getting lost, endless chatter and the miracle list is long.

The reality on the other hand was bitter; staying in, school all day, homework all night, tiredness, bottled up feelings, feeling nothing close to the over-rated love, spending way too much time on internet and this list is long too.

^ ^ That is how I was feeling ten minutes back. After sulking, feeling depressed, and writing all of that, the sub-conscious levels kicked in an epiphany!

Dude! Yes, dude! Life is bitter-sweet. I and You and We did work all day and night, kept the feelings bottled up, spent wayyyy too much time facebooking, however, that wasn't only what past years were about. Apart from the delusional "love", I've a pretty huge group of friends (who according to a tarot game are the most awesome amongst my cousins, but later on that); the late nights under the stars on the terrace, dancing, sneaking, talking... and getting lost in beautiful places All Still Happens.

sigh, the great years have gone by. the better years lay ahead. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for twenty to do it's magic, bitter tears surely will turn sweet and the fire ...the celestial fire shall never die.

12:12 am. 2 December 2010
One whole month left to act like a lost soul walking happily wherever, everywhere.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I've done nothing at all this week ... And it feels Awesome! Laz(zzz)y O.o

"I'm far too lazy to come up with some 'deep' hipster quote to accompany this entry, but I'll inform you that my nose is really itchy."

It is officially very very cold. Winter cold. Fog. Dew drops. Windy. Rainy. Mufflers. Jackets. Hoodies. Pullovers. Yes, very very very cold. Because of the generous Rain Gods this year, well... Winters are actually winters where the Sun hides away for a looooong time.

And hence, my so-called lazy escapades get fueled.

Waking up late, lying stuffed in the blue blankets, calling for a hot coffee, reading the morning "Garfield-betweenFriends" news, surfing facebook via phone etc.; mum thinks it is being Lazy.
I'm not lazy. I just don't have anything to do... that I like.

Notes. Studying. Exams. Writing. Practicing. Making the bed. Erm, WORK THAT I LIKE?! ?! ?! No. O.o

All I want to do is sleep, eat, loll about.. diddle-daddle.. linger.. boondoggle ..goof off and bum around. That is not being lazy. Call it procrastinating, but lazy? noooo.

The thing is I really need to gear up and start working on anything. Working and doing things that need to be done.
Why the sudden epiphany ...?

Today: Noon: Living room.
Mrs. ABC: Oh, and where is your daughter? How is she doing?
Mum "Mother": She is good. Just on a very tight schedule of not getting anything done.

I heard it. Oh my god! She really said it. Laid a 'personal fact' about her own daughter's life to an almost-stranger. *face-palm*

Therefore, I've decided to work, whatever work I get at home. Yes. I've the Power to out-do the so-called Laziness. I'll come out as a hero.

I really ought to do something!

But... you know, I'm already in my night jammies.

I guess, on some random level, It Is Awesome ! 'cause doing nothing has made me happy with not a care in the world - even the fact that I have an exam tomorrow for which I haven't studied a word - nothing. Nil. Zilch. So, here I'm cherishing the nothing-ness as long as it lasts. It will last a while now... zzzz

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Nothing is permanent.

How Terrible it is to Love Something That Death can Touch.

It is 1996. I'm 5 years old. I'm wearing a pink polka-dotted frock and my two pig-tails look cute. I'm at my Grandfather's place, from the maternal side. I call him Nanusa. He is thin. He has a smile on his face. Because of me. We're in the garden watching the birds flying all around. I tell him I want a bird too. He gets a bird-cage, puts some food-grains in it and leaves it hanging on a tree branch with the small cage door open. A bird flies in. He rushes towards the bird-cage and quickly locks the little door. "See those big black spots on the bird? It's a Papa Sparrow", he tells me. Papa Sparrow starts thrashing his wings on the bars of the cage. A feather falls. He now also has a small cut on his weak body. I look at Nanusa. We let the Papa Sparrow out and it flies away to other sparrows. Probably, Mamma and Kid Sparrow.

2010: It has been two years now. Two almost years since this wonderful man left us. A simple man. His smile still etched in my memories. The last time I had met him, I wish I'd have a chance to hug him. Hug him tight and tell him I really loved him, wanted to spend more time with him, sit in the garden to watch some more birds fly around, go to the junk-food corner and eat those pani-puri ... I wish I hadn't grown up because after "growing-up" it was all about the time-we-never-have.

The loss is now seeping in me. After two years. I miss him and the thought of not being able to meet him again is unbearable. Loss of feeling. Loss of expression. A plain loss.

You left too soon.
... rest in peace Nanusa.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010




Monday, November 1, 2010

would I like to start over...?

Monsters exist. They live inside ordinary people. 
And sometimes, they win.

Year 2009

The college year had begun. We took our first steps uneasily, yet the confidence remained. Everyone around me was upset, as school had come to an end. But not me. I love change. If the school life was over I couldn't care less because the excitement of the hyped college life was awaiting.

Just like everyone else we collected our mandatory forms, cards etc, while the seniors eyed us top to bottom. Some passed us smiles, some threw cold looks probably to show they owned the jungle we had just stepped in. That too did not bother anyone. We were already a close-knit group, a huge circle of friends whom nobody dared rag. Yes, we believed (still do) we were (are) too good and strong for any of them.

The only addition in friends was a girl who had shifted to our city due to her parents. Imagine her plight, from a popular film capital metropolitan to the city of pink, royalty, customs... still a little behind the years.

However, we gelled well. Once all of us got talking there were no city barriers left. It was like we knew her since child-hood. Why you may ask? She talked. She talked a LOT! There was never a story that came to an end as she got reminded of other stories and jumped to them.

We had a great time together. The parties, sleepovers, class-bunks, popularity (ah, that's another story). But as far as I know. College did start with a bang. A bang of lots of talking and lots of dancing.

Then came the sad stories from her. About her life, a few incidents in her previous city, a few horrible incidents with her boyfriend, the reasons behind her smoke-addiction. She cried. So did my other friend. I din't. I couldn't. Tears never come to me. I think there is some wiring gone wrong in my body. Yes, that must be it. And emotional closeness is the point where I start drifting away. Another wiring gone wrong.

After that, I'd always know what was happening, from the abusive phone calls of her boyfriend to the lets-get-back-together phone calls of her boyfriend. Well, she was a mess. Fortunately, she had friends here. But on the closeness front just one friend who was my best friend too (hence, I knew all her stories).

The incident: One particular day, after all of us had left, she was hanging out alone with my cousin brother. The next day, one of us got a call from her expressing feelings about my cousin and the fact that they shared a moment. The cousin was already dating one other friend at that time. He was asked about the incident and he confronted that a 'something' did happen but not as she told it.
The blame game. Again she was confronted with this story and her narration changed. So did his later. The strange part; their stories kept changing again and again. In the end we sided with my cousin's story as it sounded more realistic and we knew him since a very long time. It was only natural. And he is a good person.

Now us and her, are just on the glance-talking-basis. We pass each other in corridors mostly ignoring, sometimes passing half-a-smile. The thing is that even today, there is a part of me that cannot be sure about who was right and who was not. No matter how sure I'm about my cousin and how fond of him I am, I cannot manage to know.

Did we do a wrong thing. Impulsive thing. Was the monster playing tricks on her or us.

I would never know.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

ladybirds can't fly

Year 2006.

The windows were tightly shut, curtains drawn, heater on and I was snuggled up in bed with the lilac blanket tightly wrapped around me. It was the peak point of winters when everything is freezing and schools are closed. The only time when most of us want to live forever in the warm blankets, sleep like a baby and not work. At all.

Later in the day, I was told (ordered) to leave my cozy room, forget my sleep and drag myself in the shower. No matter how warm the water is, the moment you step out, it is very very very very cold. Sigh, how I despised lunch that particular day. It stole my gentle sleep.

That same week, we had a new maid employed to help my mother with the daily chores and dough the flour. Today, the maid was ill and so on her behalf her daughter, a mere fourteen year old girl was in the kitchen helping my mother. She cooked, served us, washed the utensils, dried the clothes; all the time wearing a frail white sweater and a tattered jeans. No socks. No muffler.

There I was on the dining table staring at her while she removed the unclean plates and glasses. I did stare too long because she noticed and looked uneasily at me asking if she'd done something wrong. How naive. I asked her about her school and the fact that she wasn't wearing anything more warmer to protect herself.

Then we were the only two occupants in the room. She had a story. I had time.

She told me how their family was embezzled in the village; how her father had to move to the city to look for a job; how her mother also followed him here; how she had to leave her home and come along with her parents to live in a city that from her eyes was a dump. How she missed her friends, school, trees and open land where one could sleep outside with the starry sky as a roof. And how she just did not feel cold. Not at all.

I sat there speechless. She went back to her work. I had to go back to my planned sleep in the cozy bed.

Same age. Same grade. Yet, different lives.

A month later, the maid's daughter was married off. We got to know about it a fortnight later. Mother was furious, which was obvious. She had been delighted when that little girl had asked for spare notebooks to practice her school work on. Mother had pestered the maid to make sure the girl studies further.

But no. Things fell apart. The maid's daughter had aspirations, the dream to fly high in life. She wanted to be a teacher. Wanted to give free tuitions in spare time to the unprivileged children.

She was a ladybird. Gentle and sweet, courageous enough to face the green world with it's thorns.

Unfortunately, just like the other ladybirds, she could not fly.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Do you mind if I don't smoke?

Gazing at the cars driving past. The stars glittering above. The lighted cigarette dangling between two fingers.

A sight. A moment. Pretty? I don't think so.

Observation showed many of us bond better over a shared smoke rather than a cup of hot coffee. Amongst the laughs and silliness in the no-smoking-arena, someone always has an urge to "burn" and Always takes another smoker along for a smoke. We divide.

Non-smokers : Sipping coffee. Laughing. Rambling about life that does not concern us.

Smokers : Standing outside. Alone. Talking. Letting the right words flow. Listening. Talking... Burning.

Sigh. The prettiness. Just like Serendipity or Definitely, maybe.
The pink, purple even the plain boring white one's look pretty; intertwined in our fingers. Sexy from afar. Just like the Sight witnessed recently. hot guy. mysterious eyes. a smoke in hand. Oh, the soul-mates.

So, do you mind if I don't Smoke? Don't have an urge to smell the white mist hanging around me? Don't want to die choking? Don't want an addiction?

Even if it means missing on the sights that look pretty. Only and only from a faraway distant land.

and so, would you still have a cup coffee with me?

[living for the cause soooooo :: http://whyquit.com/whyquit/a_nicodemonslies.html]  :p

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year!

"I swear, this city has started to reject me like a bad organ transplant." - Robin Scherbatsky.

We are all aware, many experienced of that eerie annoying feeling of things falling apart like we're in a Disaster Movie. That feeling which hits you like a punch on your face, trips you while strolling and makes you realize 'what a crappy year it was'. Probably the crappiest of all.

First, your year kick-starts with being "aquantained" with the maximum jerks you can come across. The ones who only care to get hold of your phone number and have the guts to talk only and only via Facebook chat. [fyi: FB chat does NOT mean we have become very good friends and you can, out of nowhere pop the question of "going out" on Chat!] Seriously, you think we are that brainless. And I'm patting myself on the back for blowing you off then and there on Chat. (Not a single decent guy this year. sad.)

Second, getting stung by a dozen or more honey-bees because of a mis-hap in college by some unknown being. For real. Missing your mandatory test being held on the same day. Yelling at every authoritative figure who came on your way until you reached the principal's office and in that fear and frustration yelling at her too and placing facts how "I" could sue the college for it [even while knowing, it won't happen ever. Who has the time.] Upside: the bee-hives were actually removed from the premises. Downside: she'll never forge my face and turns out it is not a good idea to upset the top heads. *sigh*

Third, flunking [or as I feel purposefully flunked] in the one subject you are best at - Graphic Designing (well, best amongst the duds in the class). Why? We have to go back to the year 2009 October.
(practical class and told to make a power-point presentation. yes seriously. that easy stuff)
the girl sitting next to me asking the teacher (bitch!): Ma'am, there is an error. What do I do?
The teach-bitch: Hmm, isko. ek second. mein abhi aati hoon. kuch char-khani mat karna.
I look at the girl's screen (I shouldn't have): Dude, just press ctrl-alt-del. Do over. Must be some virus problem.
(5mins later) bitch-teach comes, looks at the monitor: yeh theek kaise kara?
Girl: Ma'am, she told me. It was quite simple. Common sense stuff. (How I wish she had never uttered those words)
That is when the bitch-teach looked at me (oh, she din't look good): tumne koi computer course kar rakha hai kya? [no] This is your first class in two months, I'll be deducting your attendance marks. Be regular.
Saw a Fail on my mark-sheet.
Appear for it Again! Damnitt!

Fourth, I've consistently, without fail, fallen ill this year. So much, it doesn't even make sense. I never fall ill. Until the year 2009, I must have had stuff like fever only five or six times. Yes.
My theory, my body cannot take a city for more than three years. It is rejecting the city actually.

As of now, in every possible strange way I feel very much connected to the famous character of Robin Scherbatsky. [this is just a fun-fact =p]


So no one told you life was gonna be this way. [four claps] 
Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A. 
It's like you're always stuck in second gear,
When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, 

I'll be there for you!
(When the rain starts to pour) 
I'll be there for you!
(Like I've been there before) 
I'll be there for you 
('Cause you're there for me too)

I'm lucky to have all the awesome friends and family around me, some next to me in this city, some helping from a lil' far away and some watching from up there.

No matter how messed up this year was, here's to a lousy Diwali/Christmas and a crappy New Year ! xD

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Together we cry ...

Sometimes we are broken and we don't know why.

The discussion took off late evening, when most of the staff and office members were leaving for their homes to have the last meal of the day and get some sleep. The little group of new interns were unstirred talking endlessly about the latest Vouge, the next party and the usual work gossip. Each one of the girls had secrets, bad horrible secrets, unknown that someone out in the dark knew about their doings.

Finally, the security in-charge had to walk up to them and request the girls to exit the building. All five of them left together, then went their separate ways. Some to their own homes. Some to someone else's home.


Sunday, September 19, 2010

Smile... because you can.

Smile... because you're beautiful.

Smile... because everyday you try to be a better person.

Smile... because you have that favrouite pair of shoes.

Smile... because little things make you happy.

Smile... because tomorrow is another day.

I want to drive alone on the highway, not too fast not too slow. I want to sit outside, feel the breeze on my face. I want to do one thing every week that scares me. I want to let all my feelings flow right. I don't want to be afraid of a few things. I want a new crush. I want to see that old crush again. I want to dream and live in fantasy, sometimes. I want to witness a "Once upon a time...". I want chocolates. Lots. I want someone to start a conversation with me. I want to re-live a certain moment again. I want to learn something worthwhile before the end of this year. I want to go there where the sky is clear and all stars visible. I want to waste my Saturday nights.

Also, listen to Careful - Michelle Featherstone

Thursday, September 16, 2010


Eyes met in the avenue
Was it love, she never knew
She kissed, she danced
But in the end, she lay shattered.

She wore something old, something new,
Something borrowed, something blue
Lilies were pink, everyone smiled
But in the end, she lay alone every mile.

A home was created
The garden blossomed
A crystal vase crashed, later mended
But in the end, she lay, heart unattended.

Slowly the friends went, family faded
In oblivion, she still softly cradled
Hardly a smile, hardly a tear
'Cause in the end, she lay in fear.

Eyes had never met, arguments had taken place
Fights built barriers, unknown consequences
She lay still, the air spoke in silence
Left the avenue, the music had stopped ever since.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Thirteen to Nineteen... & it's very many colourful 'sumptuous' layers *slurp*;)

So, it started at the age of Thirteen,
Had a crush on a boy who used to cross my lane.
Fourteen-fifteen also came,
And in sometime, I got over that crush,
'Cause it was so lame.
The first few years were practically the most confusing and crazily whirl-winding years. I was in a new place (again) and the whole make-new-friends-meet-new-people anthem was sung. My father's Posting Aircraft had landed at the most busiest city in the country, Delhi! It was one hell of a place. I loved it, I hated it. And the three years I spent there, so much changed. I did learn a lot in terms of things that cannot be described. Learnt about myself, about randomness and much more. The first teens - 13, 14 & 15. During that time, I dreamed a lot. Really a lot. There used to be constant observing and daydreaming. The funny thing is that that observing from a lil' 15 year old girl's eyes helped me and is still a part of me.

So I went back to my hometown,
Three years had changed it, made it different,
Many people were new too,
And I didn't think, wanted to cherish the old-new all over again.
Can I even get started about sixteen and seventeen. These two years, where I had a different school life, a different family life, everything completely balanced and I did enjoy. I did nothing then, but enjoy whatever life had to offer to me. There were absolutely no complications and no issues with anything. Life was plain, simple and had it's own bright colours. Everything was resolved and just and pretty.

Took a wrong decision,
Got stuck in the same station,
So, now doing nothing,
Probably that is the reason I'm blogging!
My "colourful layered life-cake" is a lil' bittersweet right now. I'm still in my city, in my sophomore year. I guess I was kinda scared or just way too comfortable, in the illusion of a seventeen, that made me stay back here instead of giving a new city a chance or even Delhi, which looks different every few months that it's unrecognizable, mostly. I still have the balance, yet the city has no new challenges. I've seen it all. Nothing more. Hence, I sit here typing, praying for the years to fast forward & a new experience is be waiting. But then again, my "Teen" in a few months is coming to an end. I spent nineteen doing "nothing much", pinches.

tch tch. This was a silly note. Reminiscence. 
All I want is a piece of that CAKE ! and a CHOCOLATE CAKE !

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

the masks we wear ... Really?!

Art Exhibition. "Simple Colours Say More"

--The wooden framed piece of canvas was painted blue (turquoise blue?), with a simple design of a broken bow and arrow dangling off the branch of a purple tree.--

I respect art. Though most of the times, it goes over my head. Like the abstract. For me abstract only signifies Math. Incomprehensible. The artist of this painting possessed quite a lot of 'Green in his Bank', also acquiring him a spot among the works of almost-great. The artist, also a friend. I was about to walk away when he came and stood next to me. So, I shifted my gaze back to the hideous painting. Hideous, because the icky brown colour of the bow-and-arrow was a turn-off, personally.

"So, how is it?” he asked. Hopeful.

While lying, everybody has a give-away. I was in a fix. On one side I had decided to be blatantly honest and on the other, it was difficult to break someone's bubble they're so happy in. My could-have-been-a-give-away - I was silent, unable to think of anything at all to say. Anything!

(Must have been at least 45seconds) "How do you feel about it? On a personal level, you know...” time to make up stuff.

"Oh, nothing. You tell me". He can be very stubborn.

"Erm...welll... you know... I ... I have this thing of perceiving stuff... art, on my current mood... which is good... Right now. So, eh... I see the blue as a clear blue sky... Happiness and the purple tree a soft, sweet lavender tree...My favourite", this is all I managed.

"Oh, yes. Simple colours. Nothing about the bow and arrow?” he asked again, which was fascinating. Child-like.

This was easy, now the lie-flow was set. I replied, "the broken bow n' arrow is the best!"

He looked confused and I continued. "It's broken, so no one can use it to harm anything... This is good. Peace..."

"Woah... That perception is good." He smiled and went back to ...I have no idea.

The mask was back on.

Later that day I got a text from him simply stating, "You made my day! Thanks."

We do need these 'masks we wear’; they are comfortable and sometimes make someone's day.

[Regina claiming to like the Girl's skirt might have been hypocrisy, however, to the Girl it meant a compliment from the 'popular' inducing confidence and - Making her day!]

The masks we wear... Really! Are needed.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

The Masks We Wear

Regina: I love your skirt! Where'd you get it?
Girl: It's my mom's old skirt from the eighties.
Regina: Oh, vintage. So adorable.
Girl: Thanks.
Regina(to Cady) That is the ugliest effing skirt I have ever seen.

Every girl is aware of the movie the dialogues belong to. [Just for the record: Mean Girls.]
I for one, always loved and adored the movie.
Unfortunately, now watch the movie playing in front of me, in reality, almost every other day. Sometimes, played by me. Weather it is sweet-talking someone I dislike or ignoring a person because it is just not right. Playing by the rules of life, not voicing true feelings, acting, hiding behind a 'someone' else... not really me. But aren't we all burdened by the society's superficial ways of living, and in some cases, "I love your skirt! Where'd you get it?"

I have come to realize that life really is very short and wonderful. It's time to give up the mask, burn it up or flush it down the drain...Trash it.

It will take time, the masks are engraved in us so deeply that a lot of effort will be required in 'pulling-them-off'. Not as easy as the Stanley Ipkiss's The Mask [remember the green one]. Yet, a lil' bit trying everyday.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

The First 'last' Dance.

We're all searching for something we can't find.


When the world turns upside down, sometimes, someone somewhere, finds 'something'...

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Imagine You

Imagine a purple sky and some blue leaves
Imagine the innocent smile on the mischievous hazel eyes

Imagine pink balloons on the white snow caped mountains
Imagine blue lights on all trees

Imagine pure happiness and no chaos
Imagine Kurt Cobain being back

Imagine mysteries and magic
Imagine going back in time

Imagine fairytale and Hogwarts
Imagine that silly vampire

There is so much to imagine, even more to believe, then why are we stuck in the cob-web of life, unable to leave the safety and go away to experience the Imagination of the world...
Sometimes, all we need is some good faith to move on ...

Friday, July 23, 2010

Remember when we played Hopscotch!

The jump from 6 to 9 was always the toughest, somehow always managed it. Played till the end.

Never said 'No' to another round.

Ready to challenge even the 'Greatest' of players. [the old kids!]

However, after the bruised knees and elbows, sometimes torn jeans, hand-in-hand with our enemies for game otherwise best of friends... we used to walk back home feeling euphoric and clutching tightly that "Winning Stone".

That was when we were 10. Now 7-8-9 years down the line, remember when we got drunk!

The mixing of vodka with whiskey is the toughest, somehow we always manage.

Never say 'No' to another round of shots.

Ready to challenge even the 'Greatest' of drinkers. [the boys!]

However, after the tumbling over chairs, falling on the floor, banging into the door, shoulder-to-shoulder with our forever-friends, holding some tonic and rejoicing the moment (sometimes not remembering them tomorrow)... we never dare walk back home.