All Along The Watchtower

Poems of Gitanjali

2011-10-24T16:25:00.002+05:30

There are certain things you come across in life which leave you with nothing but a stunned mind and silence. Poems of Gitanjali is one of these things.

With the onset of Diwali cleaning, my mother was busy clearing out her bookshelf this morning. Like every year, I went and plonked myself beside the huge stack of books and started going through them in the hope of discovering something new. This unassuming cover was just lying within the mess, content in its own being. I picked it up, and flipped through the pages to find verses of uncluttered poetry. Curious to know more, I started reading the Forward and the Introduction to the book.

Gitanjali was a young girl diagnosed with terminal cancer at the age of 14. She was a simple girl, from a simple family. She fought this humiliating disease for 2 years, until finally succumbing to it a few days after her 16th birthday.

Since she spent most of her time alone in her room or the hospital, she would write poems. But surprisingly, she would hide all these poems she would write in the most improbable of places. She would scribble a few lines and hide it within her pillow cover, the sofa cushions, behind books, wherever she could reach. The reason being that she didn't want to hurt her family by letting them know of her pain, through her words.

Gitanjali wrote innocent poems about the stray dog in her building, her new birthday dress, the bird she'd share her breakfast with - they are the kind of poems which would leave you with an after taste of bittersweet melancholy.

But more than that, she wrote extensively about life as well as death. The kind of poems she had written between the ages of 12-16 are heart wrenching, yet uplifting at the same time. This particular one absolutely stunned me.

Tear Drops

Two tiny
Tear drops
Weighing heavily
In my eyes
Afraid to shed their burden
For who knows
It might
Pierce the hearts
Of those who care
And burden them ever-more
Their wounded hearts
With shattered hopes
Who attempt in vain
To keep an iron hold

I met their eyes
With a surging tide
And marvel at their
Strength and courage
To keep vigil day and night
To watch over me
Lest
I bypass them
While..
They are blissfully unaware.

The clarity this sweet young girl conveyed through her poems, will really leave you with nothing but silence.

Even though the publication of this book took its way through various obstacles, publishing this book was necessary. As it is only through work like this that we realize that 'Nothing is without meaning. Not even death.'

Just Go On?

2011-10-20T20:11:00.001+05:30

Standing in the midst of this rat race of ours, the rats never seem to get enough of running around. The increasing pace with which the rats are on the move, it would make their ancestors at the Karni Mata Temple proud to the point of indifference.

The young ones always seem to be running to and fro from coaching classes, the students are perpetually on the move to increase that one mark & add that extra point on their CV's while the working class is on a voluntary session of their own personal hamster wheels.

Sometimes I wonder, when do they all sleep?

I know they don't holiday. I see everyone, everyday.

The average cut off for every college keeps rising everyday, getting a job after a degree seems a lost cause with impressive resumes on every alternate lap and the AC buses are perpetually crowded with professionals crawling back home.

And boy, do they enjoy their life. Don't try to defend them, I saw them celebrating. I know what I saw.

I saw them sleeping off on their books with a pencil in hand, I saw them dozing off in lectures, and I definitely saw them catching a power nap during lunch. It all looked quite joyous.

After all this joyous celebration, they have the audacity to come up to me and complain about how they aren't happy, about how they'd rather be doing a different job, living a different life.

This isn't going to be yet another post saying - Be different. Quit your job. Paint. Yada. Yada. This is just a thought I had today.

As long as we live in a wonderful country as ours, as long as we continue succumbing to the badly built social structure, and as long as we have that rude hand wake us up at the last stop on the train, this lifestyle might never end. And that thought scares me a little.

Tribute to the Story that Lived

2011-07-17T13:37:00.001+05:30

It was raining.
The moment I stepped out of the Cinema Hall, I was welcomed by dark clouds and soft breezes. And of course, the hard pelting rain. The movie I had just finished watching was the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 2. There was nothing but an overwhelming sense of sadness, and nostalgia.

When the first Harry Potter movie had released in 2001, I was in Class 5. I remember watching this movie in a single hall theater in Goregaon and coming out of it wide -eyed. I had been unfortunately unaware of the Harry Potter Series up until David Heyman decided to make a movie on it.

Needless to say, I wasted no time on getting my hands on the four books which had been published up until 2001 and finishing them in a span of 6 months. I had begged, borrowed, and almost stolen any book I found remotely related to Harry Potter. As I write this, I can see a copy of 'Quidditch through the Ages' and 'The Magical World of Harry Potter' staring back at me amongst my copies of the actual series. But soon, it had all been read.
And from then on, the wait began.

The wait for the next book to be published.
The wait for the next movie to release.

The wait, that agonizing wait, can only be understood for the ones who grew up with Harry Potter. And once the book did come out, there would be a period of a week where you'd refuse to talk to anyone who got the book before you in fear that they'd reveal some secret to you which you'd rather read in the book yourself. Once you did get the book, you'd read. You'd read till your eyes were droopy and your mum yelled at you to go and sleep as it was 1 AM and you were only 13. And then you read, as soon as your alarm bell rang at 5 AM because you just had to finish this book before you left for school. You just had to!

Then, once the movies came out, it was grander than our wildest imagination. Hogwarts was better than we'd pictured it, every character was just perfect, it made us yearn to reach out and gulp down a glass of Butterbeer. It even made us jump up, take out our wands, and fight the battle beside the Order.
Irrespective of exams, health or weather, once a movie released, you had to watch it as soon as you could. It was just wrong to think otherwise.

In the time where video games and television ruled, J.K. Rowling made kids fall in love with books again. For that, I'm truly in awe of her. For creating a world so enchanting, that people had no chance but to be drawn into it. A magical world, in every sense.

In retrospect, I'm so glad that I discovered Harry Potter at the age of 12 and not 11. Else I can't imagine the kind of hell my parents would have to put up with, when I demanded them for an explanation of why I didn't get my letter from Hogwarts.

The eternal Good vs. Evil story, that what is was. Yet it taught us so much more.
It gave us so much joy, so much happiness, and also, so much pain.

The little jokes, the inside spells, and the mischief managed shall never be forgotten.

I don't feel bad that it's all ended now, that it's all over. I do however, feel horribly bad for the ones who missed out on Harry Potter and it's magic. I feel horribly bad, for I know there shall never be another series which can captivate me the same way as this story did.

But I know, that every time I fall sick, every time I am sad and depressed, I can always plonk on the bed with a hardbound book, and relive that magic in my head all over again.

I remember the first time I entered the book store to buy my first Harry Potter book.
I almost didn't notice until I got back into the car with my book, as I looked outside while flipping pages -
It was raining.

Soul meets Chocolate

2011-01-14T03:33:00.002+05:30

Chocolate always makes you do funny things. At the age of seven, I remember having belted the title of 'Toblerone bar finisher' under the 3 hour category. At the age of seven years and 4 months, I remember belting yet another title of ' Blue package Chips Ahoy digester' under the 'Unsupervised afternoon of watching Cartoon Network' category.

Needless to say, at the age of eight, three cavities were discovered.

In the eleven years since then, nothing has changed. Except the exponential growth in the number of cavities and root canals I harbor. But now that most of my teeth are actually just cement, I no longer have any guilt downing a bar of Bournville and then accusing my mother of not sharing any.

Today, I finally tried my hands on Molten Chocolate lava cake.

The first absolute thing you need to do, is to get yourself some ramekins.

Thanks to a wonderful post by the purple foodie, I realised Home Centre has stocks of ramekins. So, running to Oberoi Mall and slight pleas to parents landed me with these beautiful Pyrex ramekins.

Anyhow, things you'll need.

100 gm of dark cooking chocolate
60 gm of butter
1 egg
50 gm of powdered sugar
2 tablespoons of flour(maida)
1 teaspoon of vanilla essence

(These measurements make enough batter for filling in two ramekins, to make two individual molten chocolate lava cakes)

First things first, raid the utensils drawer. Find two bowls which just about fit one over the other. We need a make shift double broiler to melt the chocolate as always.

Fill the lower bowl with water, place the second bowl on top and dunk in all the chocolate bits.

Switch on the gas. Low heat. Once the water starts to boil, the steam starts melting the chocolate. Now, plonk in the butter. Sweet glorious stick o' butter.

Now imagine a world where butter is used to bribe people. What a wonderful world that would be. There would be happy people everywhere dying of clogged arteries. Ah. Joy.

Once such happy thoughts are thought of, you will notice that the chocolate and butter of melted and combined to form the most sinful chocolate-y mess. Stir into the depths of the sin.

Such beauty in this world.

Take the bowl of the heat and let the chocolate cool for a while.

In the mean time, pre heat the oven. at 150 degrees. for about 10 minutes.

By now, its time to bring out the big guys. The big reassuring bowls, I mean. No no, please don't call out your burly elder brother. He'll do nothing except finish off the chocolate. Believe you me.

Break a egg into the bowl.

Yes, the yolk is meant to be broken too. If you break the egg perfectly into the bowl, that signifies you have some unsettled childhood issues. No, really.

Okay, I kid.

Dump in the sugar, and the flour. The reason we barely use flour is because this cake is supposed to be molten, and not very stiff cake like.

Grab a spoon or whisk, and whip it.
Add a few glorious drops of vanilla. (You really don't need to. The recipe didn't ask for it. But I am always apprehensive of a eggy smell in the cake )

Whisk it yet again. Now, add the now cool melted chocolate.

Feel free to lick the bowl after. Make a occasion of it really. Light a few candles, play some Norah Jones and sit on the couch and slowly lick of all the excess chocolate.

Unless you are as impatient as me, then you can go at it in the kitchen itself with chocolate dripping all over your shirt.

Fold the chocolate in.
Soon, you will see that the glorious chocolate will take over all. Chocolate wins, always. Its the cardinal rule.

Pour the batter into the ramekins. Go on, taste the batter again. You know you want to.

Now, place the ramekins in the oven. Bake for 20 min, at 200 degrees.

You know when its done when the top is a bit cracked like this.

The ramekins will be piping hot, so you need to be careful.

These are one of those times in your life which your grandfather spoke to you about. A time when you have to exercise some serious patience. Like the few minutes before you can access your CAT result, or the moments before you can dig into hot chocolate gooey mess. It's the same thing they talk of.

Once it cools down a bit, the surface will fall a bit.

This is it. Go go go! Attack with the spoon!

And then you dip in your spoon, and this bit of cake and this molten mass escapes. The joy.

Earlier that evening, I had tried my hand at a Pasta with a Walnut sauce. Despite my high hopes on this recipe, it was just barely okay. Which got me down a bit.

But then, molten chocolate came along and filled the void in my soul. It gave me hope. Hope that one day, an intriguing pasta recipe will turn out delicious. And hope that one day, I will click my food photos in natural light.

Like always.

And then, I took yet another bite. All was right with the world :)

Keeping it Real

2011-01-08T03:38:00.004+05:30

Yet another year rolls in. Hopefully, I shall make this year count.

2010 was a good year in a lot of ways.

A detox year, a year to reflect, a year to learn, a year to implement and of course, a year to start all over again. Something which will stick with me for a long time to come. Not because it needs to, but because I want it to.

I spent the last day, of the first year of the second decade of the 21st century, cooking dinner for my parents. (because I am cool like that :P ) And personally, I think it was a good way to end the year. Like every year, I sat with my parents around the TV till 12, munching on delightful grub.

Snuggling into the couch, I realized how much I prefer the quiet celebration at home. I realized how much I'll miss my parents on days like these, two years down the line (Wishful thinking on my part. But hey, fingers crossed.)
But the most amazing thing I realized that day?

KFC is such-a-ripoff!

It's is so incredibly simple to make fried chicken at home! And it was awesome and boneless, just how I like it :)

Fried chicken will always be one of the greatest achievements of 2010. It's right up there with clearing my structures paper, and convincing my parents that buying the camera was always their own idea in the first place.
True Story.

Surprisingly, the biggest hit of the night was the bread. It was THE bread. It was destined to be brilliant.

And the year ended with Vanilla Ice Cream with Nigella's Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge topping. Ah, the sinful chocolate, with that hint of peanut butter. The smoothness of the condensed milk made it even more sinful. I beg you, to give this a try at home.

I added walnuts too. You know, to make it a bit healthy. Because, *clears throat* I do care about health and stuff.

In case you were wondering, the biggest portion is mine, yes.

Well, moving on. Today, I tried my hands at Cinnamon Rolls.

Why you ask? It's because I was recently introduced to the Pecan Cinnabon at Cinnabon.
And I am in love.

Its not just any kind of love. Its the 'I-am-obsessed-with-you-I-need-to-see-you-every-waking-moment' stalker kind of love.I've been floating since the first bite. It was like the Floyd of food. It is deep, and it takes you on a ride. Nothing more to it.

So taking their tag line to my heart, I said to myself 'Life really does need some frosting!' and brought out the pots and pans and the yeast. Turns out, it is never a good day to bring out the yeast. Because yeast is evil.
Also, because the kitchen hated me today. It kept rejecting me, how a body rejects a donated organ at times.

Well, the yeast didn't rise the first time. I had to through the batter away. I dressed the scrapped knee, and I got up again to make a second batch. The yeast rose a bit the second time, but by then I was frustrated enough to say "Screw it, let's do this". Richard Branson ishtyle.

Needless to say, because I was trying so hard to make and manipulate the rolls, I couldn't take no pictures. It felt like an MU paper really. Its that time when you are stuck in a compulsory question, you cant let the five marks go. You have to do something, so you pull, strain, rack your brains and you try all the tricks till you get a page of scribbled gibberish for the examiner to give you a pity 2 out of the 5. It felt exactly like that.

They turned out pretty okay though.

These are the bare naked Cinnamon rolls. A bit flaky, it needed more butter. Man, why did I skimp on the butter? Why God why?!

Then my part two attempt to make Dulce Le Leche went out the window, because I had no time for the stove and microwaved the darn thing. And needless to say, the milk exploded and flew everywhere it possibly could.

So, in true Branson spirit, I just poured the condensed milk on top and sprinkled a few walnuts on top (See? Health important very.)

I took a bite, and it wasn't that bad.
Even cooking has its rise and falls. You don't always get the outcome you hope you do.
But, hopefully the next time I try this, I shall have more pictures and a steady recipe to follow.

Till then, I'm off to sniff my dalchini rolls.

Now Playing and bobbing head to - Tighten Up by The Black Keys.
Now Reading - 'It happened in India' by Kishore Biyani.

A Shot of love

2010-12-22T14:53:00.005+05:30

The temperature is plummeting like never before.

I've been reading numbers like 12 and 15 in the Minimum Temperature (Santacruz) column. My dad has been trying to steal my quilt every night. Unsuccessfully might I add. While my mum orders me around to make her a cup of tea every 45 minutes while she corrects her papers. And then sheepishly asks me to 'total' all the marks in her papers.

But absolutely lovely weather, this.

It's chilly, and pleasant. The day shines just enough sun to give you a false sense of warmth, till it all fades away to insensitive breezes.The warmth from a good strong cuppa, or a sturdy jacket is the only kind of warmth you can seek solace in. Not to mention a stack of books, hot chocolate and a blanket. But wasn't that always a given?

Apparatus

Milk, dark chocolate.

If in the mood for extravagance, cream and sugar.

Procedure.

Chop up the chocolate when its nice and soft.

If you steal a bit of chocolate from the pile now, the taste of the hot chocolate will be ruined forever.

No, really.

Ok, kidding. Taste all you want. But please, don't gorge. *clears throat*

Pour in a cup of milk in a vessel, and turn on the heat.

Let it be on the lowest flame.

Wait till the point where the milk is warm, seconds before the point where it is to start boiling.

Now, dump in the chocolate. Pour in the slightest bit of water. (I dont know why, but it works. Yes)

And by slightest bit, I mean like 2 tablespoon. Really slight, you know?

And stir stir stir!

Within thirty seconds, it shall look as gorgeous as this.

Now pour it out in the same coffee cup you have been making yourself coffee in since your class tenth prelims.

*drool*

Now, for the extragavance.

Take out a boul, and add about 30 ml of cream. ( Else, chuck the precision, just pour out how much cream is suited for a cup of yours. And add in the (same amount - a bit) of sugar behind it.)

Take out the electric beater. And Whip it!

That was a good film btw. You've got to love Ellen Page.

Coming back. Beat it for a good 3 4 minutes. Till it becomes stiff, forms peaks and holds on its on.It'll look something like this.

Now a dollop of cream, and grated chocolate on the top.

Since, the aim of that night was a Red Velvet Hot Chocolate, all I had to do was add a 3 drops of red food colouring to my hot cocoa. Even though you can't notice the red very distinctly now, it's there. Just as reassuring, and just as chocolaty as a Red Velvet cupcake :)

Have I ever told you about the therapeutic nature of the chopping board? You can gnaw at it all you want, and it just takes it. It leaves a few scars behind, but it works.

This chopping board is a testimony of how I got over my Sem 3 result.

Really.

Ok, fine. I am joking :P

But voila :)

(Excuse the bad quality of the picture, my camera battery stood me up before the launch of the final product.)

But yet, it was all there. Now go make your self a cup, just like Shraddha did!

You are now equipped to face the winter with the most brilliant cuppa of hot chocolate.

And the fact that you made it yourself, might just help you feel a bit more warm on the inside :)

P.S - Word of advice. Never, EVER order the hot chocolate at Gaylords. Just, don't.

Of history, our times and kaju feni.

2010-12-21T01:48:00.014+05:30

I was lucky enough to catch a talk by Ramachandra Guha the day before.

Worship them or hate them, but you've got to love the IIT guys for giving us non JEE crowd the opportunity to watch such greats speak 10 feet before you, at MoodI.

The first time I had heard of him, was from one of my seniors. He wouldn't stop gushing about how brilliant 'India after Gandhi' was. Which is when I read upon his work, and was absolutely blown away.

The second time I happened to stumble upon his name with the help of this post. I remember spending an entire evening on the Ray and Keshavan website, and admiring the brilliance of his brand designer wife, Sujata Keshavan.

Coming back to yesterday.

I remembered the rush for registration before Harsha Bhogle's talk at MoodI last year. So I was worried I might not be able to get a chance to hear the man speak if things go horribly wrong.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there was no rush for registration. And when the time arrived, the FC Kohli auditorium was only 60% occupied when Ramachandra Guha strode in a casual blazer.

He took no time in absolutely charming the crowd. He opened with a few quirky statements about how his relationship with MoodI was close intertwined with kaju feni.

The man then wasted no time in speaking about his book. He spoke about Mahatma Gandhi, he spoke of Nehru. He spoke of the pre and post Independence thinkers of India, the 'makers of modern India'. This was the first time I heard a historian speak, and to be honest, I was speechless.

I was in complete awe of this mans sheer knowledge, his intellectual honesty, his fluency with the words he used. Fluency to the extent that any line picked out from today's talk could've been easily quoted and printed at the back of some book. (To pick out an instance, I particularly loved this line he spoke. About how it's come to a stage where "India is governed by people with power but no authority, along with people with authority but no power". This was in reference to Sonia Gandhi and Manmohan Singh respectively :P ) But more on that, another day.

During his interactive session, he read an excerpt of his latest book, which included a quote by B.R Ambedkar.

"In India, 'Bhakti' or what may be called the path of devotion or hero-worship plays a part in politics unequalled in magnitude by the part it plays in the politics of any other of the world. 'Bhakti' in religion may be a road to salvation of the soul. But in politics, 'Bhakti' or hero-worship is a sure road to degradation and to eventual dictatorship."

This is what this man said in his last speech to the Constituent Assembly.

Just this one quote gives us an idea about the quality of thinkers in India up until 30 years back.

With this one quote, not only did this man establish what would later be a fundamental reality in current day politics, but he also very cleverly managed to answer the question before the question was even stated.

But sadly enough, most people in this country don't even know this statement of his. Let alone, remember it. Forget understand the brilliance in the subtlety of it all.

I cant really speak for my parents generation. Neither have I lived through the Naxal movement, nor have I faced the Indira Gandhi tenure at the parliament. They might have some valid reasons, but what is our reason for not being aware? For not trying to be aware? For not caring? For not pushing the envelope a bit further?

We elect youth icons, and forget about them in 2 months.

We bad mouth the system, and then we forget to do our bit in the selfish pursuit of a career.

It's stupid to live in the hope of a person to come and transform a democratic nation really. But it's not that stupid to live in the hope of a generation who just might transform a democratic nation a bit by bit, by transforming itself at the basic level, by creating and taking that middle path.

I read Mark Lilla once write that, "In our politics, history doesn’t happen when a leader makes an argument, or even strikes a pose. It happens when he strikes a chord."

Luckily,we have people who are doing, and acting.

What we need now,are some thinkers to keep us inspired, to keep us acting, to strike a chord.

Where are the current thinkers of Modern India, you say?

They are being recruited by Facebook for an inhuman pay package.

Every Grain of Rice

2010-12-16T15:01:00.005+05:30

It was in class eight that Zee Cafe became responsible for getting me addicted to the Gilmore Girls.

They talked so fast, and they talked so true, it was hard for me to not be in a total awe of them.

It was during one of those early school days Sundays, when I used to be glued to the sofa in my pyjamas all day, that I heard Sookie freaking about how her risotto was sent back by a customer. She then went on to make risotto for the rest of the episode. Back then, I thought "Wow. Such intricate things people eat. There is so much of sophistication to be experienced in life."

6 years later.

"Oh pish posh! Let's make risotto today!"

You can say I have started my sophistication journey earlier than I had expected, or that engineering has made me become more fearless to try out supposed 'intricate' food. But the explanation I like best is, I have a 2 month break, I want to cook and Italian food for the win. :P

So here it goes.

Apparatus required

2 tb spoon oil and butter each, 3-4 cloves of grated garlic, 1 chopped onion (maybe more if you'd prefer), about a cup of rice, 4-5 cups of chicken/vegetable stock, 3 tb spoon of cream, salt, pepper, and cheese svad anusaar!

Procedure

Heat a pan, add the oil and the butter.

Once it heats up, dump in the garlic and then the onion. And watch them sizzle, and give out one of the best aromas imaginable.

Once it all starts looking greasy and translucent, pour in that cup of rice. Coat the rice with this oil, butter, garlic and onion mess.

Once this is done, start adding small cups of the stock into ze rice.

If you want, you can pretend the rice are people and have a loud sadistic laugh pretending to be an evil clown drowning a city full of people.

(Though it is advised that you skip this step if there are people at home. Else, you will be at the receiving end of uncomfortable questions from your mother. Er, um. No. I have never done this.)

Keep stirring the stock and the rice. Within a minute or so, you shall see that the rice has very conveniently absorbed all the stock.

yetipaw">

Is i just me, or does this freakishly look like the Yeti's paw? Subliminal messages, you say?

*shudder*

After all the stock disappears, add another cup full. Keep repeating this, till the rice is soft and cooked. That will take about 20 odd minutes.

You'll also notice, that the rice will have grown. It's absorbing all that chicken stock no?

The little rice people will be fighting for space.

While this is happening, keep some grated cheese ready.

If you show great self restraint, and don't steal a few bites of the cheese at this point, they say you go straight to heaven.

So of course, I am going to hell. (I mean, look.at.teh.cheese!) *drool*

Anyway, once the rice is cooked, add the cream and the cheese, and stir it around for 2 min or so.

Just, the creaminess and the smoothness of it all makes you want to cry a bit.

Now, don't forget to add salt and pepper in the end.

Serve it out. To feel extra Italian, sprinkle on some mixed herbs or any herbs that you have.

It's all about the taste really, who cares about precision?

And, the final touch of coriander will make it look oh so pretty.

And you're done.

Now, please. Do yourself a favour, and go make yourself a plate.

Fearlessness is the only quality you truly need to in the kitchen :)

And now, please excuse me, while I scrounge on left overs.

Pepperland

2010-12-14T02:44:00.008+05:30

Mumbai weather has been unusually kind to us city folk.

When your bare feet hit the floor in the morning, they are icy cold. The blanket has become a life support of sorts. And of course, jackets and hoodies are making their appearances after being stuffed at the back of the wardrobe for months.

I feel the 2007 winter rushing back all over again.

The only thing that can make you enjoy this winter better is that mug of coffee. And if you crave some umami, you better reach for that reassuring bowl of Onion and Cheddar cheese soup.

Apparatus required

2- 3 tablespoons of butter, 2 medium sized chopped onions, a clove of grated garlic, a bit of flour, chicken/vegetable stock, milk and cheese (Cheddar preferred).

Procedure

It's simple as hell really.

You heat up the pan. Add the butter, watch it melt furiously. Dump in the onions, and saute them. Here, you are recommended to stop for a second and just smell the brilliance of butter and onions.

Once the onions become a bit translucent, add a bit of grated garlic. Then, shake it up baby now, shake it up baby. Twist and SHOUT! Twist and shout! C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon baby now, c'mon baby. C'mon and work it on out, work it on out!

Ok, sorry. I think I lost track there somehow. *mutters**stupidbeatlesplaylist*

Coming back, add the tiniest amount of flour to this mixture. Maybe a tablespoon or so. Any flour will do. (Even if you don't, I doubt the Earth will blow up) You see that this soaks up all the butter. It's the funniest thing. Anyway, just plop in the stock at this point ( It depends on the amount of soup you'd want to make) and cover it with a lid for a good 5-7 minutes.

Once you take of the lid, the most gorgeous smell will hit you. Don't panic. Such levels of awesomeness in food, do occur.

Add salt, and pepper. Taste it.

(Don't you love the fact that you get to keep tasting the food at stages to "check the flavours"? Who cares if it brings down the final amount to half the originally intended amount!)

Stir it up. And finally, add milk. Not a lot, maybe half the amount of stalk you added. If you have an urge to be extra unhealthy, and desperately want to make you jeans feel tight at all places, add cream as well. Two minutes more on the stove, then tip it over in your bowl and you're done.

Refrain from slurping still. You need to add the final crumble of cheese (Cheddar preferred. It's not too salty, and just perfect), and another dash of pepper.

And there it is, winter bliss in a bowl.

The first slurp, will be these thick creamy taste hitting you like a truck. You can taste the sinful butter, the chicken stock, the slight sweetness of the milk, and the most amazing little tiny kick of that garlic.

It's unbelievable how thick and delicious this soup is.

And the melting piece of cheese crumbles on the top just add another dimension to it.

Good ol' toasted bread goes perfect with this. Garlic bread, even more so :)

So do yourself a favour, and make this steaming reassuring bowl of soup already.

You know you want to.

Oh, honey honey!

2010-12-12T15:48:00.015+05:30

For me, it always starts with that inexplicable widening of the eyes and a 'I need to do this right now' message running through my head.

If I fall in love with the idea of a particular book, I will drop all and run to the bookstore to get a copy. And of course, I wont sleep until I finish it. If it is a random song I fall in love with, I shall listen to it on loop until the lyrics are embedded in my memory. If my mum asks me to clear the table on a 'Monica' day, I shall not rest until the kitchen and the fridge is spotless. Well, you get the picture.

It's with every little thing I do. It needs to happen that very instant, or I shall die a restless soul.

This is the incident of 2 days before I had to leave for Kolkata. I woke up in the morning, dragged myself out of the covers, switched on the laptop and sat with my orange juice to decide my IMDb Top250 movie of the day. It was precisely at that moment the 'ping' of my feedreader caught my attention.

A few hours later, I was dazed and wide eyed. Total credits to the food blogs of course. These images of food later overflowed into a lot of conversations I had that day too. Many people accused me of making them hungry minutes after they finished lunch. I got a bunch of angry phone calls from a couple of mothers too. It seems they had to cut short their afternoon nap, to feed their kids for the second time. I was talking of food in THAT much detail.

This one particular recipe caught my eye, and looked fairly simple to make. So I decided to take the plunge.

Spicy Honey Chicken , they call it :)

Apparatus required

A bowl, a spoon, boneless chicken, vegetable oil, grated garlic, cumin powder, coriander powder, red chili powder, salt, (and anything else you have at home, which would make sense. I tried to be cool and added something on the lines of a pinch of 'Chaat masala', and something brilliant smelling called 'Meat Masala' :P ), and honey.

Procedure

Apparently, all you need to do is mix everything in the bowl minus the honey. Check for the taste, balance it the way you'd prefer (Extra spicy, lemony, whatever) and just marinate the chicken in this mixture for 5 minutes. Place it on the grill for 20-25 minutes.

Voila!

Oh wait, and finally, just coat on a layer of honey on the chicken which looks and smells gorgeous by now. Let it be on the grill for another 5 minutes. And then truly,

VIOLA!

(Can you believe how ridiculously simple this is?! Of course I had to drop everything else and make this! )

This is how tender the chicken was. A bit crunchy on the outside, and moist on the inside.

Lets take a closer look, shall we?

Can you see the sweet honey rolling off the surface?

The balance of the sweetness of the honey and the heat of the chili powder is something which has always fascinated me.

There just happened to be some Mexican rice leftover.

The most satisfying lunch for one in a long time.

Next time, prawns! *snicker*

Who would've thunk it?

2010-10-23T22:51:00.005+05:30

My passport has quite a few funny instances attached to them.

Fresh new Passport

The first time my passport was made, was in the year 1993. Baba had just almost taken up a job offer which asked him and his family to move to Kuwait. In all the hurry, I had my passport made. Apparently, it had taken my parents quite a few hours to get me to hold the pencil straight, remind me of my sleeping and slanting lines for me to sign my name on the rectangle slot. (I just realized, why couldn't they have just made me ink my thumb print? Oh. Maybe they expected me to be more than a angootha chaap even at that age! *tongue in cheek*)

Well, the result? The letters of my names we're all jumbled up and at opposite ends of the rectangular slot. Thank God, baba didn't take up that offer and I didn't have to use that passport then.

I finally ended up using this passport of mine in class 7, when I made a trip to Malaysia with my family. Mind you, this passport photo Ashmita looked nothing like the then class 7 Ashmita.

Here, have a look. (This photo was secretly stolen, uploaded on facebook, liked and then ridiculed on by my absolutely lovely classmates! Hmph!)

The guy at the Immigration Counter had the time of his life chatting up this kid for ten minutes, about how the person in the photo was nothing like me, that I didn't have a coconut tree pony tail, and that I was cheating him and things. All with a smirk.

It took me a while to explain to my parents he was joking.

Passport Renewal #1

When my first passport renewal was done, I remember being rushed out of my prelim exam for a verification. My father, being one of the most law abiding citizens there ever are, was absolutely scandalized when I demanded an explanation from the police inspector as to why I was being referred to as a 'Minor'. I was 15! I knew all that an adult knew! (Or so I thought)

It took my Ma a while to explain to me the concept of being 18, and requirements of the law (Which I later deemed to announce 'Stupid' under my breath. :P )

And now comes the latest story of my passport.

Passport Renewal #2

This time I was all pumped up, as my dad had told me the last time around that I would have to handle my next renewal all by myself. I did as much as I could. My visit to the Regional Passport Office, and my wait there even contributed in adding a last minute question on my Quiz that very day.

And then, Murphys uncle came to play. I am currently sick, and unable to ingest anything(to put it in pretty terms). It just had to be today the Police had to summon me, for a verification. After a two hour wait with the dog outside the cabin, I was signaled inside the cabin with baba.

"Naam"

"Ashmita Sengupta"

"Haan. Form idhar hi hai.....Call aaya tha aapko?"

"Haan. Kal shaam ko. Par abhi tak ghar pe..."

"Kitne saal?"

"Unees saal.."

"Nahi. Iss address pe kitne saal se ho?"

"Che saal"

"Hm. Birth Certificate kahan ka hai?

"Calcutta" ( My dad intervenes)

I look at him with 'Kolkata-has-gone-out-the-window-in-front-of-the-Marathi-speaking-Policeman-what? Look.

"Hm. Or yeh?"

"Yeh mera HSC ka xerox hai"

"Mumbai mein kitna saal se ho aap?"

"Unees- Bees saal"

"Haan. Toh aap kitne saal se iss address pe hain?"

"Che saal"

"Aas paas koi rehne waala?", he asks my dad

"Haan. Prabir Das. Unka naam aur phone number yahan likha hai"

"Kyaa? Praabir kya?" God. I feel bad. No one recognizes Oriyas

"Prabir Das. Hamare Upar waale flat mein rehte hai"

"Theek hai. Aur unke saath? Verification ke liye koi gaye toh? Rahega koi?"

"Haan. Unki wife"

"Unka naam?"

"Ranjita Das"

"Ranjitaa kyaaa?"

"Daaas"

"Unki kitni umar hogi?"

Dad is stumped. 'What? I am being asked of my neighbour's wifes age?!' look on his face. Herecovers quick, makes a quick calculation under his breath.

"Haan kuch 49 .. 50 age hoga unka"

I see him scribbling down her name and age on my application

"Theek hai. Toh kitne saal se rehte ho aap idhar"

"Che saal"

"Theek hai. Do photo de do"

He efficiently staples my photo my form. Looks my dad square in the face and says,

"Aapko house verification ke liya ghar bhejoo, ki idhar hi karlenge ?"

"Idhar hi kar do aap"

"Theek hai. Toh aap 300 de dena. Unka chai paani. Aur mera bhi"

*This is where baba asks me to leave the room while I see him take out a 500 note*

On our way to the car, I clarify. Will the police actually be showing up at our place now?

Baba smiles and says " No. But it makes no difference. Ghar bhi aatein, toh 300 toh phir bhi lete. Chai paani ka. They know we know the drill. So this is just cutting to the chase."

"But any which ways, you verified that form. So if any discrepancies occur with that detail of Ranjita Das and her age, as that is the proof of them making a visit, you shall be beheaded. Not me". He adds with a playful smirk. Rascal.

Still. I was a little confused to see a law abiding citizen, a proud PSU employee to be so cool with under the table money offerings. So I asked him again.

And boy, did the bangali erupt! He spoke about how the guys in the security force are horribly underpaid, and horribly overworked. They pull double shifts without getting paid for overtime. They get paid maybe a 4k -5k to maintain law in a country like India, and not an idealistic country like Japan or Norway. To the people who say "It is their duty", he replies with "Then where are you doing your duty to the nation, boss? Just because your job isnt directly related to the public they dont realize how much you slack off. You don't get to do some fancy sales job and earn 20k a month when these overworked guys get paid 4k to 'maintain the laws in the crime infused Indian society' "

Shameless as I am, I agree, I do not know enough about ANY of this to comment or take sides for that matter. But it does make a lot of sense to me right now, even though it is still odd somewhere on the back of my head.

Just makes me realize how horribly ignorant I am about so many things around me.

Any which way, it's been 7 hours since. And I haven't been able to stop laughing everytime I look at my dad.

My police verification to attain my new Indian Passport depended on my father's knowledge of his neighbors wife's age.

Who could've thunk it?

An Ode to a Quiz.

2010-10-08T18:12:00.004+05:30

Made a quiz for SPQC this semester.

My first quiz.

I thoroughly enjoyed the whole process of framing questions, and actually standing up and receiving answers and the blatant guesses in room no. 207, although i now absolutely loathe Microsoft Power Point.

Have a look. And criticism is completely welcome.

This is something I would love getting better at :)

Quiz1

View more presentations from Ashmita Sengupta.

Spoof the simpsons_Q1

View more presentations from Ashmita Sengupta.

Lvc_q1

View more presentations from Ashmita Sengupta.

Red Velvet Cupcakes with Chocolate Frosting

2010-08-14T18:36:00.006+05:30

Up until 4 hours back, I was even consciously aware of the presence of the red velvet cake/cup cake in the world. Like any other Saturday afternoon, I was fiddling with the laptop and came across this video about 'Re inventing the cupcake', based on this nice female with a 'cupcakery' in New York. Needless to say, the moment I laid my eyes on the gorgeous cupcake she was baking, I knew I had to try it.

Like a tune which is playing in your head on loop the entire day, the image of the cupcake was flashing before my eyes every few seconds. Scanning through the recipe, I realized I could actually pull it off before the sun sets, and before my family wakes up from their 'Saturday - post lunch - fish curry and rice' slumber.

Terribly sorry for the ones who don't stay nearby and can't come over, and bite into the awesomeness this is. The red colored cupcake is a delight to look at, the subtle taste of dark cocoa which hits you at the very first bite, is very gratifying ;and the huge blob of chocolate frosting on the top is just plain sinful.

Look how red!

*drool* chocolate.

So, yes. That. :)

P.S- I mean. Seriously. These things are a pain to carry out of the house with the roads that we have. The frosting gets absolutely ruined. So I mean, call. And come over won't you? And stop threatening me!

Yes, Samata, I mean you. :P

Vanilla Cupcakes with Butter Cream Frosting

2010-08-10T23:19:00.004+05:30

A wise lady once said, "When you look at a cupcake, you've got to smile."

And every time I open my fridge, 'smiling' is the most polite version of what is smeared on my face!

You see those gorgeous things sitting on the counters, jumping out of magazines, staring at you out of the professionally clicked photographs on other food blogs, and you can't help but hate yourself a little bit for not having one in your hand. And the worst of the lot are, the mini cupcakes which inhibit Candies. Little rascals, all of them.

So after donning the hat of improvisation, I decided to bake a few cupcakes myself. Vanilla cupcakes are swell, and the butter cream frosting is heavenly. Thankfully, I had some coloring left over from the cutout cookies ("Raspberry Red" to be precise), so i could end up with a very pink set of cupcakes :P

Oh, and the frosting! Swirling the frosting around with my awesome new nozzle, is just a hoot I tells you.

And, yes, you. A batch shall be on their way to your tummy very soon. You know who you are.

I can bake my cake, and eat it too.

2010-07-15T23:22:00.011+05:30

After a much required inspiring baking move by Mayuresh, I decided to stop worrying and take the plunge already.

I was scared, skeptical, and tired of sieving icing sugar for a better part of the 2 hours, but at the end of it, I emerged alive with a double layer chocolate cake in my hands.

The first part was bliss. Just mixing the butter, sugar, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, vanilla extract, eggs and yes, flour! Easy Peasy! Just plug in the beater and go.

And this is where the batter eating started.

After I had tucked in the batter in the oven, it was time to melt the glorious dark chocolate.

And boy, did it melt. Awesomeness re-defined.

This was the "has the chocolate mix cooled down yet" tasting session every 5 min.

The few most torturous minutes of my life where when my cake was cooling on the cooling rack, while i could smell the other one in the oven.

And if that was bad enough, the horrible, taxing job of sieving the icing sugar arrived. I'm telling you, it is the ideal punishment for an irritating kid, or well, whoever you want to punish.

Oh well, dumped all that in the melted dark chocolate with the cream and vanilla.

After putting on a very brave fight, all that milky white had to finally give into the chocolate.

So all there was left for me to do, was apply icing on my cakes, and let it set for a while.

And finally, finito :)

Did I hog on it? No, not yet. My parents and nani did instead.

Am I happy? Yes, very much. I now understand the kind of happiness my mum experiences when she realizes she's brought me up right. The amount of effort and love she put in, finally paid of and give birth to a beautiful thing.

For me, that beautiful thing is my cake. (Yes, I am aware I sound like a total retard at this point of time, but look! Cake! It is no longer a lie! )

And now, I can sleep with a smile on my face.

Why you ask?

It's because I finally know that I can bake my cake and eat it too. :)

Another story by the Ghats

2010-07-05T22:04:00.002+05:30

His father worked at one of the stalls which sold ready made pujas to the thousands of devotees who poured into the Kali Mandir each day. He remembered walking to the shop where his father worked, to see him quickly stuff a basket with sweets, a packet of sindoor, agarbatis, and the customary necklace made out of hibiscus flowers for Ma Kali.

It never filled him with remorse, or anger, when he saw him work all day long to earn such nominal pays. To be very honest, he didn't even like him too much.

He was a bit too much of a hypocrite in his eyes. He saw his father sing out praises about the deity's magical powers, and how she made your wish come true if you pleased her with special puja baskets; while in fact he was, but , an atheist.

At times , he felt ashamed to be living under the same roof as a liar. Somewhere down the line, it had inculcated in him this innate urge, to find a place of his own. Somewhere far away from the place where he had spent every waking moment of his entire childhood.

And then there was his mother. Since as long as he could remember, he had always walked into his hut to see his mother cooking, or cleaning their small abode, in silent suffering. He couldn't help but feel sad and disgusted at the same time. After all, she didn't have the right to suffer if she had never worked against it, did she?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As me and my father, cautiously made our way down the mossy steps in rolled up chudidaar and jeans, and an empty bottle in each hand; he came up to us midway up the stairs.

"Can I help you with those bottles?"

"How far will you go?" , enquires my dad.

"I'll go up till the middle of the river"

My dad looks convinced, and hands him both the bottles.

"What's your name boy?", my father asks him as we three slowly make our way down.

"Lalu"

"Like Lalu Prasad Yadav eh?", my dad tries to joke.

He doesn't look amused, no crinkle of a smile even.

We continue our trudge downstairs.

I interrupt the silence, "How old are you?"

"15"

"You go to school?"

"Yes. I will be giving my 10th exams this year."

"Oh. Good good"

He barely listens to my reply as he jumps into the cold river.

I soak my feet in peacefully, and splash a few drops on my head. I look out at the magnificent river, to find him out at the middle of the river taking deep breaths and diving inside with two bottles in his hand.

By this point of time, a number of kids are surrounding me with big smiles on their faces as they continue floating in the river, asking me if I need help. I tell them I'm waiting for Lalu. They all go back to their ways.

That scrawny 15 year old returns, shivering out of the river. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts in the gloomy weather.

He hands me the 2 bottles.

"When did you learn to swim?"

"I knew it since I was a kid. Since I was 4 maybe."

"So since when have you been doing this then?", trying to inquire further as I hand him a ten rupee note.

"Since I learnt to swim."

And he walked away to help a few more people, without giving us a second glance.

I met Lalu by the banks of Ganga, that day.

And something about him, stuck a different chord in me.

And why wouldn't it?

After all, what do I know of hunger?

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts maybe?

2010-07-03T20:51:00.009+05:30

Life has become quite hectic since I decided to slack off at my internship, instead of slacking off at home.

I barely get time to do the things I wanted to, this break. But I try to squeeze in the sweeter things in life, from time to time. Plus, I had to do full justice to the cookie cutters I had bought along with the muffin tray. So I couldn't really keep them waiting.

I think this was the first time that my entire baking process took much longer than an hour. And the procedure was a little phoren to me, but it was a bit too much fun. After I'd rolled out the dough, and it was time to cut out the shapes; I'd laid out the different star, heart, leaf shaped cutters and invited both my nani and mum to help me out. Both behaved like kids I tell you! Incredible it was :)

And then, there was the icing. It was so messy and delicious, you just have got to try it.

I still have green and red stains on my fingers; and I've got to admit, 5 hours later, I am still a *tiny* bit hopped up on icing sugar :P

Fresh out of the oven

And the messy icing bit!

Little red hearts :)

And the dreamy white stars.

And yes, the delicious sugar-y mess.

This should last me a good happy week! :P

The Chocolate Chip Muffin

2010-06-27T22:33:00.010+05:30

It was a pleasant eventful trip to Kolkata. Met some amazing people, saw some breathtaking sights, heard some wonderful stories.

But to be very honest, through out the 7 days, I was utterly miserable on the inside.

I mean, I did my part. I didn't showcase my utter frustration and sadness; instead I smiled around, gave away hugs and touched at least a thousand feet. But really, I was slowly breaking inside.

You see, I've been searching for muffin trays in Bombay for over a year. Ok, now I admit, I never had the time to go out on a full fledged hunt, but I used to do as much as I could. And that search would inevitably always end in the same away, in total and utter failure.

That was the case up until the night before I boarded the flight to Kolkata. Samata, very nonchalantly, mentioned how she got her muffin moulds from this store in IC Colony and how she was dying to buy their new silicon muffin trays.

I mean. WHAT THE HELL?!

I had to wait 7 days and 17 hours till I could hop into the rickshaw, and reach bakers heaven. I went, I saw, and I shopped.

So as expected, after a year long wait, I finally baked my chocolate chip muffins. And boy, were they delicious :)

I have launched into baking overdrive.

The next time you see me, I will, in all probabilities, be at least 5 kilos heavier. So yes, you have been warned.

That is unless, someone wants to drop by and help me clear ingest these treats? :P

The Peach Melba

2010-06-07T23:04:00.007+05:30

After long, there has been a first.

It's been ages since I've tried making a new treat. True that I've been having cooking pangs at all the wrong times. The first one re surfacing 2 weeks before my vivas; but surely I couldn't succumb to them before the 19th of June at the risk of adding a viva or a theory KT into the basket.

But a surprising visit of 2 peaches at home, and a long forgotten recipe couldn't help but encourage me to whip it up.

So lo' and behold - The Peach Melba - Ridiculously simple to make, and absolutely gorgeous to eat. Even minus the raspberry/ strawberry sauce.

Does that look glorious, or does it look glorious?

*sigh*

And the final result of the peaches, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Yes, I devoured it. And loved it.

And no, I do not care if I become fat.

Somewhere over the rainbow

2010-06-06T02:08:00.005+05:30

Subtlety is such a lost art. Things have become so upfront and forthright, all poetic aspect of things have been almost completely lost.

I'd love to live in the 50's again.

Times when the very peaceful tip of the hat was replied with a subtle smile, when the hand at the small of the back led the woman through the dance floor , when a lingering look was all you needed to send someone in a tizzy.

There's some unexplainable magic to it all.The mystery, the build up, the silent understanding.

We've gotten into this ridiculous habit of making a huge hue and cry about every step of every action in our lives. We have this incessant need to take photo's every 4 weeks and upload them on networking sites. We've come to a point where it seems acceptable and cool to just walk up to someone and just say "Hey baby. I think you're hot. Wanna go out for coffee?". Even when girls do their entire loud cry and huge hug thing, even if they've just met after 3 hours, it's a little depressing.

It's all so direct, so loud. It's gotten to the point where it is a little painful to the eye. Like watching someone wear a hot pink dress all day long.

That's why it's somehow always nice to just sit with certain people, in complete silence. Or have a conversation filled with subtle puns. Or even cast a lingering look once or twice and watch it being acknowledged.

That's why I love watching the classics. Subtleness was the pivotal aspect of their acting skills. Like last scene of Roman Holiday , when Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck have their last cryptic conversation amongst the crowd. Or the way Ingrid Berman and Humphrey Bogart act around each other when they run into each other in Casablanca.

It was all so subtle, so peaceful. Everyone was secure in their own threshold.
And no one ever got poked around. Ever. :P

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now Listening to : 'Half of my heart' by John Mayer.
Now Feeling : A little sleep deprived.

O'er the hills and far away

2010-06-02T02:18:00.009+05:30

It's been 6 months since I've updated anything here.

I feel a little ashamed of myself, yes.

There is only so much time till when you can put off absence from your blog as a writer's block.

So yes, hectic college schedule, drawing sheets, and a tiny bit of sloth over weekends are to blame instead :P

Well, I thought I could bring back the new flow of blog updates along with the onset of the first rains. Don't know how regular I'll be this time around, but I'll try. For my sake.

I miss writing. Period.

So here we are. I'm back where I started. Sitting by the window, reassured by the sound and smell of the rain, listening to monsoon music ( I have a monsoon playlist. Mostly includes, Norah Jones and the likes. Soulful mostly), a mug of coffee, and just typing away :)

Till the next time when I have something more concrete to write.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now Playing : Free Bird(Live) - Lynyrd Skynyrd

(An integral part of the monsoon playlist. This song just gives me the goosebumps. Gives me some weird abstract belief in self too.

"I must be travelling on now, 'cause there's too many places I've got to see.

If I stay here with you girl, things just couldn't be the same.

I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you'll never change".

Classic. )

Now Reading : Lolita - Vladamir Nabokov (On hold due to exams though. Shame)

Now feeling : Content.

Norwegian Wood

2009-12-21T12:45:00.004+05:30

The clock struck six. He slammed his cabin door behind him. He could feel the rush in his bones, today would be fun.

He hurried to the Parking lot. Spotting his car, he took no time to put it into gear.

As he manoeuvred his car through the traffic, his thoughts went back to the first day he had met her, 5 years ago.

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.

It was pouring outside. Shielding her hair with her bare hands, she had rushed into the tea stall. While she was busy brushing off the water drops soaking into her clothes, he had noticed how pretty she was. The kind of pretty you could obtain only with very expensive make up, but pretty nonetheless.

She had ordered a cup of chai and lit up her Marlboro lights, taking in a long faithful drag.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he heard her say after a few minutes, breaking him away from his daily crossword.

She seated herself down before he could say anything.

“Want a smoke?” “No. Thanks. I don’t smoke”

She shrugs.

“The sudden April shower is quite the surprise no? Who would’ve thought we would be caught in a middle of what it seems to be, the shower of the decade, this morning? Not like a mind rain or anything. It’s beautiful when it rains. It slows things down to the most amazing pace” She kept on chirping.

“I’m sorry for acting like such a dad, but we don’t even know each other” He remembered asking with a smile.

“Oh okay” She had straightened up a bit, “Do you like The Beatles?”

“Yea, I had briefly heard some of their songs in college. I remember I had liked them”

“Well, that’s one thing we’ve got then. We know something about each other now don’t we?” , she said with one of the most radiating smiles he had ever witnessed.

And it had begun.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

He banged the steering wheel as he stopped at yet another red signal. This was taking forever. Couldn’t things just go in his favour at least once?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

She showed me her room isn’t it good Norwegian wood?

He remembered feeling like a thief when he’d left work early to meet Megha for the second time. But this time, they’d upgraded form a chaiwala to a quaint little eating joint she’d suggested.

She gave her million dollar smile the moment she spotted him.

“You showed up. Brilliant!”

He laughs uncomfortably “Yeah, well what else could I have done?”

It then proceeded to be one of the most engrossing meals of his life. Their talks ranged from films to politics, books to the stock market. His adrenalin just kept on pumping through his blood. It had been years.

“Listen, before you get any ideas, I wanted to tell you something. Something I hadn’t mentioned before”, he hesitates.

“Yea. What’s up?”

“I’m married.”

“Okay”; she had replied, like it didn’t matter at all.

“For almost 12 years now”

“Good for you. Listen, my place is just 5 minutes from here. Want to accompany me for some freshly brewed coffee?”

------------------------------------------------------------

The roads were clear now. He’s moved on the fourth gear. Things were finally picking up pace. Thoughts drifted off to times when he had just met Megha .He recollected of the restless days he’d spend just thinking about the implications about diving in too deep with her. But he had felt helpless; she was just so bloody different than any other woman he had ever met.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat on her rug; biding my time, drinking her wine.

We spoke until 2, and then she said, it’s time for bed.

“Shit. Woman, you looked so very hot today”

She slyly smiles at him “Yea, I know”

He takes a last drag and stubs out the butt. He wastes no time.

“Slow down stud. We’ve got all night. You’re out of town for a meeting remember?”

-------------------------------------------------------------

He finally reaches his destination. He parks his car 5 minutes away from her building. He can barely control himself.

-------------------------------------------------------------

She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.

I told her I didn’t and crawled on to sleep in the bath.

“Wow. It’s been almost a year since we last met.”

“I know. I just had to get out of this city you know? It was strangling me”

“I wish I knew you before”

“What?”

“This time apart got me thinking. I wish I’d met you when time was still on my side. I would’ve been something much more than this.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“I don’t”

She sighs. Takes another drag of her Marlboro, she looks at him and says “Go back to your wife stud. She loves you.”

“Don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter... It’s time you head back home”

“Wait! What?! Are you serious?! Please don’t do this M. I love you. I need you. I’ve never met a woman like you and I really need you to be with me”

“It’s been a good run.” She starts getting up, gathering her purse “Maybe I’ll run into you one day in some tea stall again”.

Just like that, all she left was the sound of her heels clicking away from him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He used his own set of keys to enter her flat. He knew she wouldn’t be at home now. He walks towards her cupboard. He takes out her folder of documents. He opens the folder to see her passport, insurance papers, voter’s ID, PAN card- and every other document he could think of; which proved her existence on paper.

He chucks them all in the waste paper basket.

He takes out his match box. Efficiently lights the match. Stares at the anger of the flame for a second, and chucks it in with the papers and walks out.

And when I awoke, I was alone, this bird had flown.

So I lit a fire, isn’t it good, Norwegian wood?

----------------------------------------------------------------

He enters home to be rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and a smile.

“Hello husband. How was your day today?”

“Sakshi, you won’t believe it, but it was so terribly incomplete. Till I got that kiss of yours that is”

“Aww. How did I get so lucky to get such a wonderful man like you?”

2009-11-21T23:35:00.002+05:30

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

Let it be

2009-11-19T11:49:00.006+05:30

Thinking is overrated.

The prospect of contemplating is highly abused.

Sometimes just being blank, silence - gives you the answers for it all.

"Shadows are falling and I've been here all day

It's too hot to sleep and time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there"

I wish I was a punk rocker

2009-11-14T14:16:00.007+05:30

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When the head of state didn't play guitar
Not everybody drove a car
When music really mattered and when radio was king
When accountants didn't have control
And the media couldn't buy your soul
And computers were still scary and we didn't know everything

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air

I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When pop stars still remained a myth
And ignorance could still be bliss
And when god saved the queen she turned a whiter shade of pale
My mom and dad were in their teens
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stocked
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand me downs
And playing games meant kick arounds
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air

I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

P.S- Give it a hear. Song is just as beautiful as the lyrics. It's by Sandi Thom.

Dreading the Manic Monday

2009-10-25T15:32:00.004+05:30

Statutory Warning : This post is not thought provoking, not a story,and not interesting. JUST rambles on a sunny Sunday.

Things have been extremely mundane really.

I am currently sick, craving coffee, and dreading my Strength Of Materials test tomorrow. Ugh.Next few weeks are pure torture. The inhumanity!

Submissions craze is on. Viva's are now right around the corner. Parents are at an all time high on the lectures.

College isn't all that painful though. I have been hooked on to Quizzing this sem. SPQC seemed to be my highlight of the week, thanks to Chinmay, Mayuresh, Sid, Krithika and the likes.

Met loads of new people this semester too. For once, college life doesn't seem to bleak :)

Diwali just went by. Met up with friends. Was nice :) My first anti-cracker diwali. Felt good.

Also, I cannot get past the 40th page in 1984. My house is engulfed in dirt. Painters and carpenters have taken over my home.

I am going insane. Period.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Now Reading : "1984" by George Orwell. STILL. *sigh* (Though I somehow seemed to start and finish 2 states by Chetan Bhagat in a day :P )

Now listening to: "Remember me lover"- Porcupine tree and "Sister Golden Hair"- America are on loop.

Now feeling: Icky.

Something in the way

2009-10-14T23:30:00.002+05:30

Thoughts lie awake
Yellowing memories run by
Promises spell out
Images flash by

Old memories croon out
The sensations creep in
The thousand hopes unite
Insecurities breathe in

Communication suffers the strain
Relations get exchanged
Exhaustion takes it's toll
The eyes crave for more

Flowers seem to wilt
But the heart still glows with red
Do you really wish I was there?

Slow dancing in a burning room

2009-10-02T02:07:00.005+05:30

The long walk seemed shorter than usual. A few cordial words filled in the gaps between their silences. Awkward silences. Comforting awkward silences.

He glanced at her. She was looking as beautiful as ever. With just a pair of jeans, a white kurta and kohl in her eyes, she could make his heart melt.He knew this was going to be hard. Was this something he had always feared? Was this that little voice in him he did not want to accept?

She kept looking at the road ahead. Feeling the stones beneath her kolhapuris. Carefully dodging mud puddles and the kids with balloons, trying to stash those strands of hair behind her ear, while they kept falling on her face.

He noticed a chaiwala up ahead. He wondered if he should ask her if for a cup of chai. Thoughts rushed back to how they had first become familiar to each other ways while nursing those countless numbers of chai's and smiles. Reminiscing seemed to be the wrong thing to do then. So he just walked past.

She lingered behind him for a second; looking at the chaiwala straining a new batch of tea into the glasses.

"What?"

"Nothing. Something got caught in my shoe. Chal"

Roads got crowded now. People kept getting in between them, the noises seemed to drown them till they ended up coming through different lanes just to come together again at the end of the street.

They reached the station.

He stopped before getting onto the platform. He faced her, attempted to reach for her hand; but her hand suddenly jerked away to look for her cell phone.He just tried to read those eyes. He couldn't believe the fact that he couldn't. He kept trying to decipher but it was all haze to him now.

"Churchgate jaane waali baraah dibboh ki train platform number do.."

That was his Que. He reached in for that hug. She got on her toes and returned that hug. Left it a second too early and whispered

"Bye then"

He nodded. And walked.

Was this really happening? How is she letting him go? She still loved him. Why was it all burning down then? Why didn't he ask her for that cup of chai? Why didn't he lead her through the crowd with his hand on the small of her back like he used to? Why did he let her be? Why didn't he just stay and helped her end this day?

She ran till the first class compartment. For a moment, he turned.

It took just two seconds to steal a look.

And he was gone.

"I say good day!"

2009-09-03T12:44:00.004+05:30

It took me a Beatles song, a Micheal Jackson song and a very hyper Fez ( Wilmer Valderrama's charachter from That '70s Show) to fully realise how every human has needs.

Now I dont talk about sexual needs here, no.

I meant as in needs of attention from the people who mean something to you, for them to not give up on you even though you might be a pain (knowingly at times) , for them to not let you down.

And how much ever people try to be zen, or give out the "Who gives a rats ass?!" attitude ; they can't deny it either.

Sometimes, it disgusts me how people can be so clingy. But at times like these, I realise that's who we are. We can't help it. We're just a bunch of neurotic apes running around to find that place where we will get love. And then settling down there and calling it home :)

So, I just rambled on my part. Gave my mom a hug.

You can run along now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Now reading : "1984" by George Orwell

Now listening to: "Jugband blues" by Pink Floyd

Now feeling: Chilly. Just came in home from the rain :)

Enigma

2009-06-24T22:09:00.003+05:30

A thought came to my mind today.

About how innocence in the world today is really lost.
We knew long back that innocence in thought had been long lost, innocence in actions too.

But the fact which startles me is how we've even lost innocence in feelings.
About how there is no innocence left even in any emotion we experience.

No innocence in the feeling of happiness. If we're very honest to ourselves, we'll think to find that they're have been very few moments in the 'non-childhood' part of our lives where happiness has not been accompanied by a hint of pride or ego.

No innocence in the feeling of sadness without the disgust and jealousy, mostly because of happiness being experienced by some one else at that point.

No innocence in the objective of thought. No one thinks without a motive. How often to we just sit and think, just for the sake of it?

No innocence in the feeling of ambition without that portion of selfishness , superiority.

No innocence in the feeling of faith, devotion without that part of impatience, weakness or fear.

No innocence in the feeling of love without that pinch of insecurity and frustration.

.. Maybe all this has always been realities of adult life, have always been the side effects of the society our fore fathers have built. Succumbing to this is very simple, fighting it exponentially hard. But in whatever little way i can, i shall try and hold on to that school uniform, my window seat in the bus, that dance in the rain to retain that innocence. In the smallest way possible.

"Don't care what people say,
Just follow your own way,
Don't give up and use the chance,
To return to innocence"

Until we meet again

2009-06-22T20:35:00.002+05:30

You can't predict the truth. Nor reject it.
You can deny it, but it will eventually come around to be accepted once and for all.

And that is the point of no return.

It was around 2.15 AM when i first heard that piece of truth.
"Dadu has passed away"
Shock.

Rushed to my parents bedroom to find Baba booking tickets for the morning flight to Kolkata.
I can see his hands shaking. I take over the mouse, follow it with a series of clicks.

Rewind.

My earliest memories of my grandparents are those of lazy afternoons. I would run home from school to find Thamma doing her puja. Her wet hair. Her soft cotton sari. Bangles softly clicking.
Just the sight made me so happy, I would dive into her lap with my school bag and my dirty school shoes, which would leave a trail through out the house.
She would start yelling and Dadu would be softly laughing while playing a game of solitaire on the bed, with a cup of tea on his side, witnessing the whole situation.

When we lived in Goregaon, I remember them going out for their evening walks. My Granddad tightly tying his shoelaces. Silently loving his sports shoes. While my Grandma would put on some lacto calamil, and get into her bata ballerina shoes and ask Dadu to hurry up.
They would be off walking for almost an hour, then they'd come and sit together on one of those big seats outside our building , talking to everyone walking by.

The more i sit and think, the more these forgotten memories crop up. Times in Bombay. Our summer trips to Kolkata. My brothers wedding in Jalpaiguri, our trip to Darjeeling.

"Dadu, tumi hundred years bachbe!" (Dadu, you'll live up to a 100 years!)
I would tell him this over and over again while drumming his bald head away :)
Can't remember the number of times I have caught him cheating while playing solitaire.
I remember him telling me stories of pre-independence times. Times he saw Mahatma Gandhi in a rally, the time he saw Subash Chandra Bose.
I remember him explaining Gita scriptures to me on early mornings.
I remember Thamma telling me stories of the time when she was a girl, and they lived in Bangladesh. How our family had huge acres of land, how my grandmothers had all British teachers, and she would repeatedly tell me about this red silk dress she had. She had to leave it back when the left for Kolkata.

My habit of keeping a diary comes from him, though I fail to be as punctual in writing as he used to be.
Used to be.
That just doesn't sound right.

Denial.

My Grandparents were the happiest people i know. My Thamma the kindest, and my Dadu the strongest. Mentally, and physically.

I couldn't even see him one last time.

Though now i think, it's better that my last memory of him was that of when he was walking away from me, with that brisk walk of his, oozing more confidence and smartness than of any young man.

I try and think he and thamma are together again. Happy. Watching over us. Bickering over small things. Talking their walks together again, Dadu with his cap and Thamma with her ballerina shoes.

He was more than my grandfather. As I had once said to him,
"Dadu, you're my friend"

Truth hasn't quite settled in yet.
Hope it comes around soon.

".. Until we meet again"

Grey

2009-03-20T20:32:00.004+05:30

His phone rings.

The number flashes on the screen for the second time now. He watches the contact picture die out.

“The Airtel number you’re trying to call is currently not ..” She cuts the call.

It isn’t a very good aftertaste.
She takes another dip in her new found pity.

He had gotten bored of her, plain and simple. She irritated him, asked for too much.

“Do you know what you are asking from me? Why do you even want to do this?”
“Frankly, no. You’ve gotten me to the stage where I’ve stopped thinking”
“Why would you even consider this?”
“Think about it. Once you're sane enough you'll know what I mean. But yes, this is over”

He was not too intelligent, but he was smart enough to realize her vulnerability despite her intelligence. That soft spot he had created was the only thing that could fog her mind.

She saw the clock strike 1. She’s been waiting for two hours now. Trying to gather courage. Thoughts keep wandering back while the clattering spoons in the restaurant kept grounding her.
Finally, the chair placed opposite moves.
“What happened?”
“You need to stop doing this to me” “Doing what?”
“You can’t just call up and come over whenever you want to kill your loneliness”
Silence
“Fine. But don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it either”

His footsteps away from her resonate loudly in her head.

She tried to get herself back. To that realist she had once been before emotions had handicapped her. She wondered how she’d ever fallen into the category of people who could be so easily manipulated, who could be easily fooled by reality posing as an illusion framed by others. It was hard, but she tried with every ounce of the mental strength she had left. She knew this would take time, maybe even forever.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had been expecting him. Hoping he would show at her door. Hope being that one thing humans will cling on to with childlike innocence, knowing that is one thing that’ll never betray them.
He looked familiar, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. He’d never shown up at such an hour before. The old memories, those feelings let her open the door for him.
Now she knew why it didn’t feel the same, he was drunk.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sits in the shower. Her clothes are drenched. Kajal smudged.
It is never just white or just black. It is always grey. Always.

For the first time in ages, her phone rings.

It’s not him. It’s her sister. She takes the call, and like a robot she whispers replies to the frantic cries of her sister, on the phone
“I can’t believe I just got raped”

Lost(?)!

2009-02-07T11:27:00.006+05:30

So yea, I'm the latest victim of the wallet flicking spree in college.
Contents of my brilliant greenish blue wallet ( Which was btw the prettiest wallet in all the land) :
Our infamous college id, railway id and a recently acquired 3 months Ist class pass, Airtel Sim card, and part of my bus ticket collection.

The pain. The pain that follows after fully realising the depth of the situation is nothing short of heartbreak , a parents emotional blackmail, and menstrual cramps combined.

What i now know, is that if you lose the non laminated, pathetic little piece of paper in a plastic cover which our college dares to call an id, you need to lodge an F.I.R at the police station , get something called N.C and then run around college for another day to get a duplicate "id".

I have been making rounds of college and police station for the last 2 days now ( I have been spotted on various occasions with a dazed expression on peoples faces, yes) . Just to feed all the massive ego's , overcome their laziness and and fully understand power craze amongst the SPCE college staff and the Maharashtra police.

So apparently, Dr.Cox was right.

"People are NOT chocolates. They are nothing but bastards, with a bastard coating and a soft bastard filling"

I hate it when Dr.Cox is right.

"Our country is changing". As if.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now Reading: "Maximum City" by Suketu Mehta
Now listening to: "Incense and Peppermints" by Strawberry Alarm Clock
Now feeling: Nothing with a hint of aggression.

LATER ADDED ON 11th FEB, 2009:
I found a few chocolate people( Read: SPCE peons) who found me my stolen wallet back! So I'm all smiles now. ( Trying to ignore the fact that i spend 1000 bucks, have 2 train id's and friendship with the sub inspector at the D.N.Nagar Police Station)
Hurrah! Let there be cheese for all! :)

Parental testing ?

2008-12-30T18:44:00.004+05:30

Spending time with parents can be fun.
It's hard to register them as people. People who were somewhat like us some 25 odd years back.
People who thought, talked, behaved like us. People who we might have just been friends with.

You never really know them unless you talk. And listen. Really listen.

Don't know why people don't do it often?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now feeling: Very very full after a huge bowl of Maggi
Now reading: Papillon by Henri Charrière
Now listening to: 'Be here to love me' by Norah Jones

Untitled

2008-12-03T20:55:00.002+05:30

A bruised hand,
a silent tear.

A broken hope,
a faded dream.

The night sky,
the morning glaze.

Thoughts,
words,
music.

All have given away to haze, haven't they?

A dejected spirit,
a lost sanctity.

A helping hand,
anyone?

The light at the end of the tunnel

2008-11-18T20:55:00.003+05:30

The candle flickers into darkness
The black engulfs it all
Yet another string cut
Yet another star in the sky.

The drums roll into silence
The final chord is struck
No cheers nor applause follow
Nothing but a promise,
a promise, of tomorrow.

Was it time to lose the magic?
Was it time to extinguish the faith?
Was it enough to kill the memories?
Was it time to kill the pain?

Row Row Row your boat, gently down the stream.

2008-11-07T23:27:00.009+05:30

Haven't updated for a really long time. Guess couldnt just manage the time. It's been crazy. OK, follow up of things which have happened since i last posted( not necessarily in the chronological order):

* Raj Thackrey got arrested. Bail. Out. Got a holiday from college out of it.

* Barrack Hussien Obama became the 44th President of the United States. Wait. Correction: The 44th and also the 1st African American President of the United States. We are a part of history people. *Made a million submissions - journals, assignments, tutorials- u name it.Gave tests. Its still in process tho.

*Durga Pujo happened. Fun things. Diwali too. Had awesome rockets this time. Esp the golden sparkley ones which i love so much.

*iRock happened!

*Well, my head really isnt functioning. Basically, just college happened. 1st sem of engineering. Lots of Cheese Pav Bhaji. Much more lectures for attendence. Even more proxy's! :P

So, i'm going to leave with a just a few uploaded pictures showing how random, boring, and fun college is. I'll write down my thoughts for later.

My head is currently resemebelling a slush machine. I've slept for just 6 hours for the last 3 days.

And semester exams are coming up and I dont know squat.

Well, I enter the gates of Mumbai University Engineering.

This is going to be long, isnt it?

College!

Something i saw outside the Gateway. Really liked it.

THIS MAN is holy. He gets us Cheese Pav Bhaji.

Delicious, sinful Cheese Pav Bhaji.

Ronak at a "do or die" mission to make Pai look cool.

He failed miserably. :P

Mithil. We are so pathetic, that this picture is what we laughed about. For 5 whole minutes.

Seriously.

*snicker*

Well, me.

Aman, with his "WOW!" expression after getting hold of Shagun's iphone.

BEE pracs. Apoorva and Adil. Hating each other. The usual.

My class.

Our Inter dept fest. Was actually fun. Crazy shit.

KRITHIKA!!!

Me- fried after the10 hour non-stop dance practice.

For our freshers.And yes, u read correct.

THE cheese pav Bhaji.

Yet, again.

Adil- looking gay.

Random pic i like. On way back from Shirdi. Notice the rainbow.

Bambole. Our Head of the structural dept.

His name is bambole!!

Ronak, on way to kill workshop incharge. With a verinier calliper.

Not very smart, the boy. :P

Sardar. The man. With THE chart.

Enuf' said.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now reading: "Dreams from my father" by Barack Obama

Now listening to: "Yeh tumhari meri baatein" from Rock on!

Now feeling: Sleepy! So very sleepy.

Just another rainy day

2008-08-14T17:20:00.006+05:30

College started. I love it. I love the campus. My campus has a lake! A LAKE! And its so green! UNlike ALL other colleges in Mumbai, let alone engineering ones... well maybe except VJTI and UICT.

But i love it. I like my department. Fun people. Somewhat like my class. Girls are like, normal irritating girls. Few of the guys are ok (Hear that Aman, Ok!).

But I'm really liking it so far. Lab starts next week. So i guess thats when they intend to squeeze the living daylight out of us. You know, take all the joy out of life.

Anyway, a few days before college started, i had to make my pass and stuff. So i was standing in the Q for the counter in Borivili Station. You know, I was alone, so i was being my alone self. Looking around here and there, overhearing amusing conversations, staring at my feet or just letting Coldplay or Norah Jones control all my listening abilities.

I was busy doing all of that, when the counter next to me closed. The huge line which had formed behind it, just vanished into the air in seconds. Another few seconds later, i see this 7-8year old kid, sitting below that counter. And he's all alone. He just quickly comes, sits, looks here and there, and starts amusing himself. Playing with his toes, observing his hands, all amoungst the dirty station floor covered with muck ( it's been raning heavy for the last 2 weeks) , pan masala packets,red pan spits and discarded tickets.

I felt so bad, just seeing him like that. I mean, there is this cute lil 8 yr old kid. He never did anything wrong. It was just in his destiny to be born to some poor lady, who might have just left him somewhere since she might have 3 other mouths to feed.

If he is given the right exposure, he might just grown up to be a great contribution to society. In whichever way. But instead, he just sits on the station floor. Look at all the people around, with the innocence of a child, oblivious to his future. And his future, for all we know, might be in a peadofilic circle, or one of thos huge beggar circle things, and yet another life wasted. Just so easily.

I feel so very lucky at moments like these. When it hits me. That I'm one of those lucky ones who're actually getting their easy life gifted to them in a silver platter. I mean, we still all have our problems, but that's just us being way to selfish.

I come back home, still thinking about the things i saw. I see another kid of my society, of the same age, coming back home after school. Carrying his heavy bag. He'll probably go home, eat a hot meal his mum made, call his friends, play downstairs and then be called back upstairs to listen to his mum whine for him to do his homework. And all he'll want to do is go downstairs and play again. Or watch TV maybe. He wont know the luxury, the care he's in. Neither did I when i was that age.

Just like how neither will that boy in the station know how his life just might have been, if someone cared.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now reading : "Unaccustomed Earth" By Jhumpa Lahiri

Now Listening to: "Son of a Preacher Man" By Dusty Springfield

Now feeling : Tired..So very tired.

It's raining! Its pouring! The old man is snoring!

2008-06-12T14:24:00.005+05:30

It's that time of the year again.
Its the time when the umbrella's are out, there is muck all over, tree's seem exceptionally green, people curse their wet jeans.
Ah. How i love the monsoons.

Have been out for the past few days due to admission stuff. And i couldn't love it more. Travelling in the rain, drops of water ( or LSD according to Pavithra) on my face, smelling the earth. It just makes me so happy. I don't even mind the wet jeans, the soggy papers or the muck in my shoes.
(People are STILL wearing Osho's in the rain! Ugh!)

Whenever it starts raining, I'm a 7year old kid again. I'll do ANYTHING to get out and dance in the rain. To sing and splash water on my friends.
And after which, i come home, take a hot shower and just sit next to the window, with a book, a blanket and cup of coffee. It is very gratifying.

More people should enjoy the monsoon the way it is. It sucks when people around you keep complaining about it.

That's the view from my home. It's raining. Isn't it just lovely?

*sigh*

Free bird down. Broken wing.

2008-05-22T21:38:00.012+05:30

Its been a good 5 days since i became a "Free bird".

You know, all exams finally done with. No tension. No curfew.No alarm clocks. After a good 2 years.

And 2 days into my newly acquired "Free bird" status, i become "Free bird down. Broken wing."

I now sit at home with a gigantic bump on my head, bruises all over my body( which are actually purple ,red and black), and my right leg's calf muscles twice their original size.

Just to get things cleared, i was not in a brawl over a guy/boy bands/brands i wear/anything pink.

I was in a sort of accident, which was so idiotic, it makes me cry.

I am now at home with a gigantic leg, barely able to move lest I hurt myself, watching old movies , doing random stuff on the net and cursing the heat. Sheesh. Its so very sad.

All this while my friends are out going for lunches, movies, IPL matches, shopping et al.

Boy, do i feel special.

Guess its just me, my leg/bump, ice pack and Shantaram.

P.S- I'm liking the book. I'm barely through the first 100 pages. But i like. Its good.

Education - Whats that?

2008-05-15T22:51:00.011+05:30

I always liked nights better than the day. The sky looks so glamorous . Its peacefulness , so comforting. Its openness, so overwhelming.

At this point of my life, 17 years and a few months after i took my first breath in this crazy little cosmos of ours, I'm lost. And confused, as my blog name suggests.
Being a teenager in this country is anything but easy.
Well, its tough whichever country you are in, but somehow our beloved nation just takes the cake.

The pressure to prove oneself to the people, the attempt to suppress certain desires in order to prove oneself to the people, the attempt to suppress that want of rebellion in order to prove oneself to the people, the ignorance of the sheer joys of life like dancing in the rain, talking about all the things under the sun with your friends, going for a trek, getting familiar with nature.. et al.

And for us unlucky ones who have for some God forsaken reason have taken up science so as to make a career out of it( which is like 85% of our Indian population) , we seem to be stuck in the mundane rut of study, assignments, lectures, projects.

And i can firmly say that hardly 7% of the 85% actually enjoy it. I mean, genuinely get a sheer pleasure out of it. While the rest of us, we're just stuck between this eternal struggle of suppressing our true inner talent so we can pick up those hard hats in one hand and computer cables in the other and call ourselves engineers. ( Medicine is even worse. But they're just like 2% of the 85%)
It all disgusts me. The suppression. The one way path. The hypocrisy shown by "society" when that one way path is not taken.

I had been told as a kid that i should take up that one thing as a career which i love. That one subject with which i am ready to spend my whole life. And enjoy it.

But now, as i stand here with a plethora of opinions about which engg college is the best, gives the best placements, pays most money. And why would anyone do anything but engineering? Its the fastest way to get a job and earn decent money.

And i couldn't be more confused.
No wonder the blog land is filled with this huge chunk of Indian teen population bitching about their college/classes/career options/teachers/subjects day after day.
I thought education was all about gaining knowledge, about how you apply it in life.About how it makes u literate to decide the right things in life which clear perspective and reason.And so, it wouldnt matter if one is taking up science or arts or whatever.
It seems anything but that now. All education has become is memorising random facts and vomitting it out, a huge money making marketting thing and another field to show off your power in our so called society.

How it all disgusts me.
Too tired to go on any further. Will continue about this sucky part of our lives later.

P.S - What's worse is that i hear it gets even worse once you are an adult.

Of late night talks, exams and sniffles

2008-02-06T12:44:00.000+05:30

Was up till 4 AM talking to him a few days back. We were chatting on about the school days. We didn't know of each other's existence then.I went on about how i was the "hyper" one is school who would run around singing "Staying Alive.. Staying alive!" and the one who would be stealing Gummy Bears from the candy store just for the heck of it ; while he went on about how he was the casanova of his school and how he was the naughty one!

Realised how much both of us have changed since then. Realised how much people around me have changed since that very same day 2 years back. Realised how much we've evolved, learned, experienced.. and also conviniently forgotten lots of other basic stuff in the process too.

Went a stood in the balcony for a few minutes after we said our goodnight's. The moon looked beautiful that night. But it was the breeze which threw me off. Never thought mumbai would get so cold one day.

I'm roaming around the house all day long with a shawl wrapped around myself and wearing socks to keep my feet warm. Making myself a cup of strong black coffee every 3 hours while i'm sniffing and sneezing away to what seems eternity. However stupid i might be looking, I'm enjoying the sudden change of the season!

Anyway,
Its that time in my life again where all eyes have turned to me.

I hate it when it's that.

With boards and my entrance exams coming up, it seems everyone is this house is carrying their patience on their sleeves and are very conviniently loosing it every 5 minutes. There is an anxiety attack every time i approach the TV or the computer. There is another 15 minutes long lecture everytime i reach for my ipod. It can get VERY infuriating... but atleast now i know better.
My parents are just worried so i don't screw up. So people around me can go look through all my faults and mistakes and just smile and say " She got a 90% in her boards you know! She cleared so many exams too!"
I, on the other hand, just dont want to let myself or people i love down again.

And also, I want to get out of this city and inhabit a hostel for the next 4 years. Just for some taste of indipendence for a change.

Bird-day!

2008-01-28T19:42:00.000+05:30

It's my 17th birthday today.

I have a record of my birthday's starting out as a very depressing day but ending up in pretty cool way.

Same thing today.

Was very depressed coz

1. NO party .. thus, no friends

2. Dad out of town, mom sick .. thus no eating out

3. Dad out of town, mom sick .. no presents

4. I have a Bio prelim paper to prepare for tomorrow

So, there i was 1 AM today morning whining about how i hate my birthday and how the day is going to suck to Pratik. But he had to be all nice and sweet and be all " Dont worry.. it'll be fine".I was glad he was there to tell me that. I Tried to believe him. But couldnt.

Until now.

Nalini, Sejal and Pavithra dropped my place unexpectedly at 3.30 PM. With the most amazing gifts. Nanu gave me " Shopoholic takes on Manhattan" ( i know.. its a girly book.. but its fun!) , Puffy gave me a Black Pink Floyd Shirt from their '94 Dark side of the moon tour.. WOW! It fits me and everything! and its soooo COOL! plus she got me ACDC and guns n roses ka key chains.. hehe!Sej gave me dog tag, and this VERY amazing shirt which look oh-so-awesome on me! Hung out at CCD. Hogged on Chat. Pratik dropped in too( Didnt give me gift! That bitch! Aaahh.. but I'm glad he came anyway :D) . Had pastries from Monginis. Then hung out at my building for almost an hour. I was 2 hours late. Sej and Pratik both ended up bunking their test at 7.

I am so happy and content right now. Not coz of the "CCD" or the gifts...yeah them too.. but especially coz I know i have friends who'll last forever. They made sure i had a brilliant birthday.And Everyone who mattered .. called and wished.

So this is what birthdays are all about .... Friends and chocolate!

What we have here, is a failure to communicate.

2007-12-12T18:02:00.000+05:30

Minds in distress
thoughts in a rut
the line has been snapped
the tones have been cut

The kick on the wall
the slam of the door
the frustration brimming
the anger ashore

A pause of silence
then the moment of truth
the thorn pricks the thumb
blood follows the suit

The sense of denial
then the sense of regret
A quick motion of the hand
You hang by a thread

Pirates, Birthdays and Peanuts

2007-12-12T09:10:00.000+05:30

Saw a "Globe trekker" Special on Discovery last night.It was based on Pirates and their glorious era. I never really like Pirates or anything related to them.
Ever.
I haven't even seen the "Pirates of the Caribbean" coz the promos bored me to death. But yesterday special turned out to be quite interesting. Megan McCormick ( who I think is very pretty!) ended up going to places like Jamaica , Spain and Peru and stuff... you know, where the pirates would attack the most for gold and all.
Turns out the greatest Pirate of all times( Francis Drake, English pirate ) died on my birthday!

FINE, maybe he died on 28th of Jan 1595, while i was born on 28th Jan 1991... but you get my drift.

Which reminds me.. my birthday is due in about a month or so. I'm kinda bummed that I wont get to celebrate it( stupid board exams!).. so I'm guessing no cool presents either :(
I'm bored now.
I have my English Prelim in sometime.
And I'm too pissed off to figure out if the sentence is Past Perfect or Present continuous.
I think I'll try Peanuts to make me feel better.

Friends = Random acts = Fun

2007-12-10T12:42:00.000+05:30

I still try to figure out what this blog is actually about.. is it just pages filled with my fears and insecurities.. or just any random bullshit thoughts which seem to occupy my head these days?

Meeh.. it's both i guess.

And I know i am not causing any difficulties to anyone else, considering that no one actually reads this :P ( Except those few whom have no choice but to read as i have a loaded gun against their temples)

Day before was fun. Pratik , Jatin and Rohit performed at Youth Nexus.They competed in this band competiton. Me, Pavithra , Vipin and Elaisha were there to cheer them on. We had a fun time making fun of the other bands which had a pre teenage boy playing the part of Axl Rose and this other dude crooning away a KK single."Rocking" i tell you!

But we all had fun ..commenting loudly on the naked guys strutting their stuff on ramp, drolling over the chinki guys playing football.. quality time, i tell you.

After,we ended up shooting a movie and everything.Took some funny pics of us all too.Shall upload them if i ever get my hands on them.

We decided to stop at Infinity for a piece of grub. But later realised we had money for nothing but a packet of sugar from CCD. So pavithra, myself, pratik and vipin ended up checking out random chicks and trying to figure out who had the best butt.

Hmmph.. a productive day.through and through.

Had to rush back home. Travelled by train for maybe the 7th time in my life( I know,I know, i should be ashamed to call myself a mumbaikar)Was supposed to be home by 6.15 after "Physics Practicals". But took off my shoes at 7.30 instead. Parents were super pissed. But that was totally justified under the circumstances( i had a prelim exam the next day).

So, here i am.. rambling about utter crap.

UH oh.. i feel the disgusting feeling of guilt coming in.

Got my college prelims from tomorrow.

My study desk beckons me.

*Sigh*

Old flames

2007-07-17T21:27:00.001+05:30

I went out for a movie after a good 2 months.

Wait..I rephrase my sentence..

I went OUT to enjoy with my friends after a good 2 months.

Caught up with the new Harry Potter movie. It was fun! And i loved the movie!

But the most weird thing about today was that I ran into my ex-crush today.

I mean, what are the chances that the guy i had a crush on for almost all my school life,the only guy to whom i have confessed my liking for,the only crush who actually liked me back would be in the same mall, watching the same movie at 2.45 PM while sitting in the seat in front of me.
The last time i had met him was in 9th standard. The last time i had contacted him was after my boards.I still can't believe the odds?!

Anyway , it was nice seeing him after so long. I mean, I dont still like him anymore or anything, but it was nice seeing that face again.
Hmmph.. we were are usual distant selves.. I found out he got into Manipal. Was pleased to know that.

Life sure is funny. One moment you think that this guy is "the one" for you ( Hey.. i was just a 12 year old kid reading "Love stories" and "SVH" during my hindi lectures!), the next moment you are actually confessing to the guy that you have had a crush on him forever ,then you just think " Oh.. so I'll guess I'll see around..Say..10 years?" and then you just run into them randomly when you least expect it.. and all these silly memories come rushing back..
I sure have had some good times...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just finished reading this book called "Can you keep a secret?" by Sophie Kinsella.

And it is such an extraordinary read.
Its a fun book. Almost every chick will like it.
It is just so realistic.. and just so amazing!
The whole "Secret keeping" concept she put across was outstanding!
Its a great book to pick up on the days you are feeling too low, and too bored to do anything else.

I mean, if guys really want to know what usually on most normal girls mind , pick up this book and be confused..
and if girls want to be rolling of their beds in laughter, and going "Oh my god! That is soo like me!"..they have to do nothing else but pick up this book!

Walks back home

2007-05-15T18:56:00.000+05:30

My classes timings have been changed again.I'm happy.

I'm especially happy because now I'll be able to walk back home.

Don't know why people underestimate a good ol' walk.Its good when you have company, you have so much to talk about.Its even better when you're alone.You get to notice the small things around you which you normally wouldn't.Or if you really aren't in the "observing mode", you can just drown yourself in you own thoughts.

Anyway, Back to the point

In my last post, i had written about how much I'm going to miss enjoying my "actual" summer days like i used to.But during my walk back home, i realised that I still am enjoying my summer like i used to.Maybe at a much smaller scale.But I am.The elemental fun is still there.

I'm still loving the long cold shower after i come back from the heat.

Mangoes are in the market now.I still get to eat mangoes like a true Bengali! ;)

I still get to beg my mom to have ice cream.

I still get to consume an entire 1.5 litre Coldrink in a day flat.

I still get to gulp down cup after cup of cold coffee.

I still get to roam around the house in my dad's massive shirts.

Irrespective of him complaining in the background on how suddenly his number of shirts have reduced.

I just don't get to go to Kolkatta for a few weeks.Meet relative after relative.And hear about how much I have grown up and on how these unidentified "blood relations" of me had seen me last when i was tiny and bald.

Instead i get to study hour after hour and complete unbelievable amount of homework.

And Just when i thought i could live through these next few summers and just when i thought i could try and convince myself how these summers are not different from the other summers at all,well..memories of old forgotten "best friends" and "badminton partners" come flooding back as i see a couple of 10 year old's hurry past me discussing what all they will be playing this evening.

But the "Beep Beep" from my cell phone and an SMS saying "HEY ash, whats the hw for the cet lecture tomrw?" brings me back to ground reality.

Days like these

2007-04-21T09:17:00.000+05:30

It is a beautiful day today.

I look out of the window , its "summer" sunny after almost a year , cool breezes blowing , birds chirping , i see hordes of groups playing cricket , there is a sweet smell in the air today.
These summer mornings remind me of my childhood days( not that i am not a child anymore!)

Rewind: 7 years back
By this time of the year, summer breaks would be on , there would still be a few weeks left till our family left for Kolkatta.
On morning like this, i would wake up at 10, eat bread and ketchup for breakfast, call up my friends in my society and plan a picnic!
Then minutes after, we would be downstairs with our clips,bedsheets, biscuits,board games and badminton racquet's.
We would put up the bedsheets , make a temporary house amongst the trees , and have amazing fun till our mothers would get fed up and take us home in the evenings for our glass of milk.
We would play badminton , catch the crock, lock and key , langdi and what not!
Studies , scoldings and a routine were all immaterial to us then.
We would instead run around our society chasing dogs or in search of marble pieces to play sakli in the evening.
We would sit below the peepal tree behind our society in the afternoon and spook each other with weird ghosts stories.
We would scout for non-existing thieves around our colony on our bicycles.
We would race from one end of the colony to the other, to see who is fastest.
We would beg our mothers for Rs.5 to go buy a Max orange Popsicle from the shop next door.
And then run, skip and jump to the shop to buy that Popsicle while singing "Barbie Girl" By Aqua.

Fast Forward: a 7 years skip
I am now in a different society , its my summer "break" now.
I'm waking up at 6.30 and having milk and fruits for breakfast , studying , calling friends and whining about how much there is to do, and then attending lectures from 2 pm to 9.30 pm, then coming home and collapsing on the bed.

And I wont even be leaving for Kolkatta in a few weeks.
I miss my Grandparents.
I miss my cousins.
I miss mangoes.
I miss those days!
Especially on days like these!

Is it true?

2007-03-26T20:01:00.000+05:30

Life has been one hell of a roller coaster ride for the past few days.
Dad came back from Africa.
Dad getting a new Job.
Classes duration increasing from 3 hours to 7 hours daily.
I took the left road.Not the right one.

Met up with my school friends as well as my new college friends today.Had a blast.I laughed SO hard that my stomach is still facing the Consequences.

But My classes ka notice really freaked me out today.
I'm going to have 7 hours of lecture everyday from the 9th of april.
Just for MHT-CET and HSC.
What are going to happen to my dream of getting into BITS pilani?
I actually thought i could finish the CBSE portion on my own.But this schedule just screws things up.Its screws things up BAD.

IIT,i realised, is not my cup of tea.I am have already wasted enough time to actually prepare for it.Plus, as i realised is that not getting in IIT is not that big a deal.Its just another institute now.Maybe it was not JUST another institute 10 years back.But it is now.

That reminds me, Dad gave me an hour long lecture on how I should study economics after 12th of i dont get into a good engg college. "That is another short cut to getting an MBA degree because thats what you wnat in the end of the day isnt it?" were my Dad's exact words.
He said " I have seen the world.And i know for a fact that engineers dont rule the world.The managers , and the economists and the financial analysts do."

Anyway, back to the point.Classes for 12th and MHT-CET for 7 hours a day.
Hell.

I am scared.I really am.
I am scared of becoming a failure.
Scared of disappointing my parents all over again.
Scared of loosing self-respect again.
Scared of people.Scared of people the most.

I am still losts in the woods.
The owls are hooting.
I can hear the tiger roaring.
The darkness is scaring me.
I am in too much of fear to wait for the sun.
My tears are my only company.

Why did i disobey my parents?
Why did i have to venture out in the woods alone?

People say that the night is the darkest before the dawn.
Is that true?

Sleeping child (?!)

2007-03-18T00:23:00.000+05:30

I'm not getting any sleep tonight.
Its irritating.

My efforts for the last hour to make me fall off to sleep have all been in vain.

i am too young for sleeping pills.
i am too old for lullabies

i went to bed.the room is hot.
I'm sweating.
this cant be the way to fall off to sleep.

i switch on the AC.
i move from side to side.
Yet no sleep.

i SMS a few people.
get their replies.
NO sleep.

i see the digital clock change numbers from 23.59 to 00.00.
from 00.06 to 00.07
Its was one of the dullest moments in my life.

i get up.
go to the living room
switch on the TV.
I could use some coffee about now.
Bangladesh has just lost 2 wickets.i change the channel.
Star world has some freaky aliens on.i change the channel.
Zee Cafe has some oversexed teens on.i change the channel.
Vh1 has hip hop hustle and snoop doggy dog on.i change the channel.
Cartoon network has some weird kid cartoon on.i change the channel.
Bangladesh is still stuck at the loss of 2 wickets.
i switch off the TV.

I go to my room.
change my clothes.
again.

i go to the bathroom.
stare at my face for a minute.
Curse my face for another minute.
Then i brush my teeth.
again.
i floss my teeth.
again.
i wash my face.
AGAIN.

i come back to bed.i see the clock change from 00.30 to 00.31.

the room is cool now.
The air is just cool enough to snuggle under the bed cover.
i make a mini tent for myself out of the bed cover.
i start humming an Amy lee song.Mom gives me the look.i shut up.
I re-adjust my position.
Stare into space.
Count my sheeps.
Count the number of times Charlie Brown messed up his chances with the football.
How long do i just lie here..?

Coffee Coffee! Where art thou?

2007-03-13T18:18:00.000+05:30

Its my friends 17th Birthday today.He is giving everyone a treat.I cant go.Mom wont let me.Because apparently who goes to one hour treats after college a day before your Hindi exam??!!

DEFINITELY NOT ME!

Giving my mom the silent treatment now.But i don't think that will last long because I'm expecting a "this is not the way you behave with your elders" speech pretty soon.Sucks.

Today I'm in one of those peculiar moods again.All i feel like doing is sitting on the floor and staring at the wall.Music is just giving me a big headache for some reason.Typing is just too hard to do.Writing is even worse.I cant talk.I cant listen.I can just sit blank.

Coffee could have given me company.I wouldn't mind it.But i don't know where the coffee beans are and i don't have enough energy to actually make one.

I wonder how some people can be so monotonous?How they can do the same thing over and over again?day after day?How do they manage to keep themselves sane?I feel bad for them and their bad luck to lead such lives.

Hope i am not headed towards that.

Funny i had to choose those words.Because hope is the last thing i have now.

I miss school.I miss my school days.

I really do need coffee.

Being my obnoxious self --> Part I

2007-03-12T18:42:00.001+05:30

My Annual exams started today.
After a long gap of studying , i finally picked up a book after ages (An E.V.S book counts, right?)
So before the exam,all us students had to fill up a feedback form about our college..since its the end of the year and all.
Let me tell you something, feedback forms are fun! Especially if they are anonymous!
We rated our teachers in negative, we rated our 'bhaiya' college in negative.IT was fun!
'Bhaiya '.. ha ... that reminds me..my friends just composed a song on these 'brothers'.The songs is damn lame..but thats wat makes it soo cool!! \m/

Anyway , i recently realized the greatness of COLD showers in the middle of the night.It is just so exhilirating.I like it.Its my new "thing" now.
That is other than wearing my oversized 70's style Peace sign ka necklace all day long.
Well, i guess i better go study English for tomorrow.

NAAH..I'm to bored to do that

Breathe...breathe in the air..

2006-11-24T19:11:00.000+05:30

What is in the air?
Why isn't every indivisual allowed to speak their own raw thoughts?
Why are children always considered to be wrong, and adults right?
Why are adults so insecure to admit that they are wrong?
Why are youngsters so afraid to tell adults they are wrong(when they actually are)?
Isn't "grey" the perfect colour to define today's world?
If we are facing a horrible case of gloabal warming, why are people so cold?
Why has childhood lost all meaning?
Why are parents against good ol' teen fun?
I mean, we aren't that wild,are we?
But to come to think of it, weren't our parents much more wilder than us?
Whats the whole point of becoming successfull professionally and having a huge bank account, if u can't recognize your own self in a crowd?
Isnt life all about getting to know yourself?
What IS the meaning of life anyway?
Is Friendship the only reality?
Wait..but Dont dreams define reality?
Why are we so comfortable taking off our masks to "anonymous"?
Why dont people TRY and reognize themselves?
Why are people SCARED of recognizing themselves?
Why are tears so powerful?
How can tears be so lifeless yet so powerful?
Why are people afraid of change?
Isnt change the ONLY thing making life exciting?
DO material assests REALLY define a person?
Why is our elder generation so goddamn conservative?
Why is every indivisual, i meet nowdays, pissed or frustrated?
All of a sudden, WHY is everyone shouting?
WHY is everyone SCREAMING?
WHY is eveyone ANGRY?
WHY have i lost all of my shame?
WHAT IS IN THE AIR??

(Questions running through my mind during the BIO,ENGLISH AND CHEM lecture.Easily,the LONGEST 150 minutes of my life!ARRGH!)

Jaded

2006-08-03T21:42:00.000+05:30

I was a back bencher in school.why i am suddenly a front bencher in college then? Isnt it supposed to be the other way around? And who the heck does Umesh sharma think he is? Just cz of his mistake i missed 2 math lectures "on record" while i had to go through the torture of listening to his bihari accent tell me stuff i already knew since the seventh standard.my life is such a mess.i cant sit anymore. my butt is aching to bad. this wooden bench sucks.

The class breaks into loud laughter.

I hope they are not laughing at me and my thoughts. Well, i dont care if they do anyway .

I think the English Prof. was impersonationg Prem Chopra from "bobby" , the film. Doesnt he have a life?

I doodle pretty well.I see i've doodled the words "I HAVE BECOME COMFORTABLY NUMB" on my disgusting english textbook.Its the same thing written on the T-shirt I have worn today.

I run into one of my close friend's boyfriend,outside college , on my walk back home. He is the most popular guy in college. People around him wonder why he is talking to some unknown loner ? well, they dont know we were pretty good friends too.he was my classmate. I give a damn to the girls throwing my "envious" glances.

My dad greets me with a " chalo, go bid sahil goodbye " as i enter home first time after 6.am.
OH YES , sahil bhaiya is leaving for the US today. He gave his GRE , and is going to US to do his M.s in University of brooklynn is it? BAhh, he is going to new york. Thats all i know. He looks excited. His rugged face actually looks clean now. OH, he shaved ! I shout a "best of luck" as he enters into the lift. My parents start with the usual "the boy worked hard and got his result. See shonai, u have to be dedicated too. Nothing is gonna happen if u listen to backstreet boys all day long"

I leave the room. First , why do the always assume i am listening to music all the time? and why do they think i still listen to Backstreet boys?

Life is confusing. Especially mine? Why dont i get anything i want easily? Why do i always have to work and strive double to achieve what i want. ITs not FAIR! why do my friends get stuff done eaily and not me? Why do they get to use the elevator while i have to go by the stairs?

I just read my friend's email. she movd to a boarding school after 10th. The boarding school is based on the american system , so she is having the time of her life. She was my closest friend since 4 th standard. Her brother is in IIT powai .( a dream far far far away frm me).
I miss her.

Some guy on msn is bugging me now.I think i should go block him now.

I open my eyes
I try to see but I’m blinded by the white light
I can’t remember how
I can’t remember why
I’m lying here tonight
And I can’t stand the pain
And I can’t make it go away
No I can’t stand the pain
How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I’ve got no where to run
The night goes on
As I’m fading away
I’m sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

"UNTITLED" BY Simple Plan ..(I really really like their songs.........)

ME , MYSELF AND I

2006-07-27T10:44:00.000+05:30

"So didi, who is your best friend? "
A little girl in my building asks me this Question as we both are waiting for the elevator.
"................."
I have NOTHING too say!

I just recently realized I have NEVER had a best friend in my entire life ! There are stories , epic's based on best friends and their relationship. And here i am, lacking one thing which every one seems to have , a best friend .

Then I started analyzing my life.I have had many Close friends. I could bitch about anyone in front of them, paper chat with them during the geography and hindi classes in school (history and civics i was too busy shotuing and debating with the teacher! .. i swear i liked History and civics! ). I would hang out after school with these close friends. That kind of thing. But even under the catagory of "close friends" i had further divided it into "VERY close friends" and "Just close friends" .

BUT NO ONE EVER , made it to the last level of best friend.

During the end of 10th standard, me and two of my other "Just close friends" pavithra and advait, started talking more than usual. Since we would be up all the nights studying, they would call up on my cell and we would conference till the early mornings.sometimes THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT.

We would talk about ANYTHING under the sun. Everyday was a new topic to talk about.One night it was about football, the other about food, or we would ask each other RANDOM senseless questions to which we would answer truthfully( Example : Do you look at urself , when you are naked, in the mirror? Would you rather be obese or extremely thin? Advait, did you ever get an erection during any class ( Me & pavithra used to ask da MOST DISGUSTING QUESTIONS ... dat even ady didnt want to answer ) Would u buy Zidane or Ronaldinho? where do you think we will be in 15 years?et al )

I was actually explaning World war II (my fav topic) to advait, befor the HISTORY board exam in tapori language like "Causes of world war II: Bismarks diplomacy - Bismark created a rift between germany and France by .... " became " there was this dude called bismark .. uska france ke saath lafda ho gaya tha.... phir jab woh tapak gaya .... "

I became extremely close to them. I am their best friend.But they are not mine. They have told me every deepest secret of theirs , their problems .

But i could never share my deepest secrets nor my problems.

I dont know why. I guess it just makes me very uneasy maybe.

I always find solace in the fact that my secrets are safe with me, and no one knows what problems i am facing.

i guess i am a loner. I loner who is an extrovert too(weird combo..isnt it?) . anyone who knows me, will NEVER believe that i am a loner. THAT i LIKE being a loner.I love it. I love thinking and talking to myself. I love lying under the night sky and staring at the stars. I love staring into the sea.I love walking in the rain for hours.I love listening to Pink Floyd.I love being alone.

Once i had read in a book that "Despite their fixation on frienship, most aquarians do not have many intimates . they seek quantity rather than qualityin their associations, and they seldom settle down to a steady realtionship for more than a limited period.Usually, a peculiar kind of isolation hangs over the aquarian"

You think that is what it is?If it is.. are all aquarians like this? Well, maybe....

Untill i figure out this whole stiuation properly ... My best friend?
I'm guessing its me, myself and I.

Random Thoughts of an Idle teenager

2006-07-24T09:27:00.000+05:30

"Wish u were here" by Pink Floyd is playing on Limewire, as i search for another particular Pink Floyd song called "Coming back to life".

I really not in a mood to talk or to listen to anyone talk.First symptoms of me turning into an actual loner?? MAY BE.

I cant wait for the Clock to strike 12. I have to leave for college then.Have to leave for my JEE classes directly after that.*sigh* .. following the typical middle-class fantasy of cracking IIT-JEE , sometimes I just hope that after these two grinding years for preapring for JEE , it is all worthwhile.That I will actually make it into ONE of those IIT's .

I never really realized how deep lyrics could get.Untill 5 years back, deep lyrics to me meant the Backstreet Boys crooning "As long as you love me..."

I recently got introduced as well as addicted to Pink Floyd after listing to a 2 hour Pink floyd special on the radio, late one night , while jotting down a few of my thoughts in my journal.

"So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war
for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here."

Simply BEAUTIFUL ..... what say?