What's up!? ...never nothing much! :P

My Dear Super Neglected Blog,

It's not that I don't like you or something. Other things have kept me occupied, and you do know about how lazy I can get at times. These two things put together have led to your feeling neglected for a valid reason. Anyway, now that I am back you should be happy.

With love, and no promise to not neglect you again,

Yamini

Okay, so that's one thing dealt with. And now I really have to update everyone (i.e. the 4-5 people who read my blog, of which 1-2 would be interested in this post) about what I've been up to. Life's been pretty very interesting. Some real low lows, but mostly high highs.

In school, things have been good. I'm very consciously not doing too many things this year unlike last year when I was all over everywhere. It's class XII, and as unlike myself as I may sound, I really should place academics right on top of the priority list. But not doing 'too many things' doesn't mean nothing. So, in a capsule: I got voted in Connect Secretary, and Images Vice President, and you probably do know that I'm a prefect. The Images elections were funny. Miss Pramanik didn't nominate me at all, and everyone was totally surprised. I've missed a few meetings for play rehearsals and everything, so she said my attendance wasn't good enough. Anyway, by popular demand and Sururupa's initiative, I got nominated and elected. Now someone said something like one isn't allowed to hold more than two posts at a time, and because I'm already a prefect and Connect Secretary, I can't be Images Vice President. It is totally untrue, and I'm very happily going to hold three whole posts. Lotus Buds - the school magazine we edited - came out, and people kinda like it. We gave the school-leaving batch a farewell and they kinda liked it. I'm actually taking down notes in the Literature in English class and that's why I can't make more pretty doodles, and Mrs. Kar and Ms. Guha won't let me drop History. They're totally unreasonable. In general, things at school are uncomplicated and happy. Almost. But the thing that is not uncomplicated is something I don't want to write about and it'll hopefully be okay soon.

Apart from that, TNMC happened! It's tough to write in correct grammar also now - it was so totally exciting that I feel like writingglikeeethissss!!! I couldn't attend all the rehearsals since the venue shifted from Deborshi's chhaat to KB's home, which isn't half as close to my place. Whenever I did attend, I had a great time - met lots of new people, and made new friends, and everything and everything. It's so tough to explain why we had a good time, and most of the jokes were situational, so when I tell somebody what happened, they don't find it that funny, and I'm rolling on the floor laughing. It's very embarrassing. Sometimes I remember something when I'm walking alone on the road, and I laugh. Shayak, Pallavi, Rajat, Neha, Owaiz, Radhika, Shraddha, Yash, Shripriya, Srishti Di, Dev D, Dhruv, Priyanka Bhabhi, Kanak Bhaiya, DSP Malhotra, Phulwa, Tathagata Baptoon Choudhury -not!- Motilal, Sweety, Bindoo, Hardik and a few others are to blame. Just by the way, the play, 'The Newly Married Couple' went off pretty well, and the cast party was good too. Ask me for details of either or both, and I'll be happy to tell you. Tomorrow we're all meeting up again, and I'm all excited and looking forward to having a good time.

One time, Shripriya and I were at Barista discussing only-we-two-should-know-what, *secret wink to Shripriya*, and then her Mom called and threatened to get her a scolding from her Dad, and then mine called and reminded me of all the work that awaited me back at home, and asked me to come back immediately. It is a common occurence which is a majorly dramatic portrayal of the difference between our fantasies and current realities.

The low lows were there, but I don't feel like writing about them at all. The fever I recovered from just today was pretty bad too, but thankfully didn't last long. Today was nice - I met Toffee, my friend's pug, and then we went for coffee. Tomorrow promises to be a good day. I'll hopefully have happening happy vacations. I need to go shopping urgently - I've run out of red nail paint, and am totally short of clothes and shoes and whatever else one can shop for. I was hoping to vacation in Mumbai, but the plan got canceled before it was made, and I'd cry and sob and wail if I wasn't totally optimistic about having a good time irrespective of that.

Okay so now I've run out of things to say, and if you want to know anything about anything ask me and I'll tell you. Okay, bye.

(Fish! That was the worst way in which I've ever ended a blog post! :D )

My Favourite Girl...

I miss her...

It's like I live in times from long ago,

In times when she was with me,

In times when I smiled my truest smiles,

For I hadn't a clue what was to be...

It's all a lie now.

The only truth that ever was,

Was in her eyes, in her smiles so pure.

I can't forget her just because... she's no more.

I can't forget her eyes...

The way they twinkled,

The way she'd look at me,

And leave me dazzled...

I can't forget her smile...

Her angel face lit up when she smiled.

Her laughter made me want to smile...

I can't forget that innocence of a child...

A million little things about her...

I can't forget the things she did or said.

She always talked a lot, asked too many questions, yet,

I know, I regret - a lot has remained unsaid...

I can't forget her ceaseless chatter,

Of things that most would ignore.

Now everything seems to matter,

Her smallest details and more.

The way she'd be a soft sweet presence,

Beautiful in her honest simplicity.

The way she shouted out my name,

Or whispered sweet nothings to me.

I'd give anything to hear her

Call out my name one more time.

I want to behold my treasure again -

My love, my life - stolen before time.

I want to hold her close again,

I need to feel her breath, 

I want to kiss lips her so that

She wakes up from death.

And I know nothing of it is possible.

I know she's gone forever.

Leaving me nothing to live for.

...My reason was always her.

The sun shouldn't rise tomorrow morning -

Nature should change it's course.

But it hardly seems to notice she's gone,

Even when I've cried myself hoarse.

What can I have to do any more,

With the day, the night, the clouds, or the moon.

It was always she, who'd show me the wonder in them,

And the wonder's lost too soon.

Now I know, why I loved the rain,

That it was never the rain's wonder.

I know I will never love the rain again.

All along, it was just the magic of her.

I have searched - within, without,

And I can't find a single reason to smile.

I might smile for the time she was with me.

But it makes me cry, that He cheated...

Promised me a life, and gave me the little while.

Everything reminds me of her.

The ad she loved, the song she hummed,

And everything about her comes back to me...

...That smile to which all my troubles succumbed...

Her soft laughter, her girlish giggle,

Those eyes that made me forget the world...

Her voice, that bettered every silence it broke...

Everything about her. She'll always be my favourite girl.

I loved her the best way I know how to love,

And I can never give that love to any other.

For she's the only girl I have ever loved,

And no one else can be her.

Until the time I'd found her, life had no meaning, 

And has none after she is gone.

There's an unnamed, useless half remaining,

For she and I were one...

Baby, if you can here me,

I want to tell you this...

I love you, Baby. I miss you.

Come back to me, please...

A Timeless Walk :)

We walked leisurely, that evening,

In no hurry - a pleasant change
From the constant rush!
In quiet bylanes, unfamiliar to us,
Yet, comforting - strange!
...I loved the calming hush.

The silence broken, and enhanced,
By rustling leaves, and twittering birds.
Wrapped in the coziness of narrow lanes,
Sharing little bits of each other -
Of regrets and hopes, put in simple words,
Of the still-gnawing pains, and of joys that remain.

I could see the pain, a helplessness, in your eyes, 
When I spoke of things that had made me cry,
And I read in your determined eyes, a silent wish
To defeat every little regret I'd ever had.
Your eyes looked at me with most honest love, and I
Believed in you; my faith - simple and pure, and almost childish.

I hardly noticed, when my hand slipped into yours.
Your touch pushing every sad thing of the past
Into shadows of insignificance.
What was it, around us? The light of love?
A soothing comfort of security in my heart,
And in you, a purpose to my purposeless existence.

When, during that timeless walk,
Did existence give way to life?

I thought, then... If the old tale of the Midas touch 
That I was told, when I was just a child,
Can be for real, then you, my love,
Turned my base life to gold. The thought made me smile.

Little moments of 'nothing much' that evening,
Held meaning to me, most sublime.
I wanted to kiss you a hundred times...
...But I saved it for another time... 

:)

The complexities of the simple ways of falling in love... :)

Firstly, I firmly believe that if it's Holi, my Facebook status message need not be related to that. I may have something else on my mind at that exact moment when I'm typing it. (Okay, it was related this time, but it NEEDN'T be.) And even though I had a great day which could make a potentially interesting blog post topic, there's something else on my mind at this exact moment.

You're at a party. (And you're a girl, or you're gay, alright?) This suave-looking gentleman walks in. A black suit, perfectly adorning his perfect looking body. His face is gorgeous. His eyes twinkle when he smiles. And when he smiles, every girl swoons. His short black hair looks perfect. His stride is confident and he talks in a way that doesn't let your attention waver. He is utterly charming. Perhaps the best looking, the most well behaved, chivalrous, Mr. Nice Guy with a naughty edge you've ever seen or can hope to see. You nearly fall in love.

Nearly. That's what my point is. You know, even if I see this REALLY great guy, I just CAN'T fall in love with him until I know him. Okay, so I could know the person over a couple of coffees, et cetera. And he's perfect. And I kind of fall in love. But I still see the scope for a greater level of falling in love. (Forgive me if I'm not making sense. :P )

And how would I really, really fall in love? I need to see the person being himself. Doing his own thing. Say he's X. I need to see how X looks when he sleeps, how he rubs his eyes when he wakes up, how he pushes aside his blanket, and is unsteady as he gets out of bed. I need to see how he concentrates, say when he's reading the news, or how he taps his feet when he listens to music. I need to see how he sips his coffee or chews his food, how his lips move when he talks, and how he smiles, laughs, frowns or cries. I need to see how he ties his shoelaces, how he twirls (or does not twirl) his car keys, how he reacts to the loss of a wicket, and how he types his emails. 

I need to know the tiniest details about him. What makes him smile, what he gets angry at, and, you know, those little things we're particular about without realizing that we are, because they never change. Like, if I'm very particular about my desk being tidy (which I am not), I don't realize it until someone messes it up. If X is finicky about a particular pair of white sneakers being squeaky clean, I want to know that too.

Then, it's important how he treats people around him. How he talks to his family, how he talks to his friends, to his colleagues, to his employees, to his staff, to strangers. And, the way he looks at me. How he smiles for me. The tone in which he talks to me (AND to EVERYone else). The little polite gestures. The little things that show he cares. 

When I love all that about someone, that's when I'll really, completely, truly, madly, deeply, purely, irrevocably, and eternally fall in love with someone. So you see, it's not that easy. Then again, it's not so tough. You just have to be who you are. The tough part is, I have to love who you are.

X, it shall be really easy for YOU, I promise. And everyone else is disqualified. 

^_^

Seventeen :)

I'd always loved those little frilly frocks meant for 3-5 year old girls, and wished for one in my size. It came true this time. Last-minute shopping is so my thing, and I went out to look for my birthday dress on the 29th of January. Good luck is so my thing, and I found the perfect light pink frilly frock meant for 3-5 year old girls, in my size. Plus, Sidhu Bhaiya, the shop-guy, actually 'gifted' me a shirt, and I think that was utterly sweet of him. I guess, that marked the beginning of not-just-another-day.

Near midnight, Mom insisted on making me do some work for her, and when I told her that I'll just bring my cell phone from the room, and then do what she wants me to do, she played tyrant. Later, of course, I entered this somewhat decorated room with a soft toy (Yay!!) and a cake and candles. 

I had special duty at school. Big coincidence - of all the 30-something days that I could have had that, I had it on my birthday. There's hardly anything special about special duty. You have to go to school early and welcome every person. Welcome, in this case, refers to correcting their uniforms, and making them go upstairs in lines. Everyone seemed to know it was my birthday! Plus, this class 8 girl, Yagnaseni, handed me a card in a pink envelope and a chocolate, and that made it obvious. Lots of 'Happy birthday's, lots of 'Thank you's, and lots of hugs when I was supposed to be on duty. Embarrassing.

School was fine. Shripriya gifted me a photo frame with my pictures in it, and Bournville, and gave me a card. Someone stole a lot of my cake. I gave Yagnaseni some of what was left, and a chocolate, which was the least I could do. (Thank you, Yagz!) Rohini and Aditi gave me chocolates, and the rest of the day was pretty uneventful.

I went home by bus. There was a treasure hunt of x clues, where x = number of letters in 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' + 1, at the end of which I got Twilight. Di had done this whole thing, and put the first clue in the 8th floor, the second in the 7th floor, the third in the 8th, and so on. All the exhaustion led to a book which I'd already read. I actually wanted the series - New Moon, Breaking Dawn, Eclipse, but I got the book. But it was such a sweet thing, that it didn't matter, and anyway I love Twilight enough to re-read it. (Thank you, Di!)

Chandni wasn't well, so the plan for coffee was put off for another day. I did nothing all day but to take calls and reply to messages. We had dinner with Manasi Di (who, by the way, also celebrates her birthday on the 30th of January), and I was pretty tired by the end of the day, but it was a happy kind of tired. 

Some people surprised me, some disappointed me. Anyway, it was a pretty nice day. 

This looks like a newspaper report or a formal school essay. It hardly does justice to such a nice day, but I really have to get back to the textile-file thing, and wrote this today lest I forget later. The belated-happy-birthday wishes are still coming in. I wish people realized that if wishes can be accepted as 'belated', gifts can be, too. :P

Thank you for making my day so special. You'll know if this was meant for you. :)

To be or not to bE... :D

Assuming I'll be a 'star' before I'm 21...

1. I'll be very, very surprised at myself. :D

2. My friends will think I've become arrogant even if I behave in the exact same way as I do now. :(

3. My real friends will be very happy, and will ask for all sorts of privileges shamelessly. :)

4. Everyone will suddenly claim to be my real friend, and I'll have to learn to not hurt them, and still be honest. :|

5. Some teachers will say they always knew I had it in me. :)

6. Some of them (SDG, SC, PG also, perhaps) will be VERY, VERY surprised at me. :D

7. I'll be invited to a lot more parties. :)

8. My family will be surprised, apprehensive and happy. :)

9. I'll get to know lots of new people - that'll be interesting! :)

10. The muri-wala guys will tell everyone that I used to buy muri from them, and when I go again they'll be very happy to see me. :)

11. I'll be busier, and people will stop expecting me to call them on every occassion or just-because, sometimes, and I'll do that still, and they'll like me for it. Touching elders' feet, which is the normal done thing, will then become something worth appreciating. :)

12. I'll get paid to travel, to wear good clothes and accessories, and to be famous. :)

13. Hopefully my parents won't get as excited as they do now when they see me on TV or in the newspaper. :P

14. It wont help me in making my single status believable. :D

15. There may be rumours. I won't care. No controversy please. :)

16. I can't go to any random place anytime I want, which is sad. :|

17. I'll be felicitated at the Alumni Meet of MHS. :)

18. My autographs wont remain scribbles on rough sheets of paper. :P

19. Jon and KK Bhai will remind me of their predictions. :D

20. I'll be pretty happy. (Not that I'm not as happy now.) :)

21. I think I'll delete this blog. :P

Some things will never change:

1. Dad will be worried about me. :)

2. Mom will not think of me as anything extra-ordinary. :)

3. Bhaiya will subject me to the extremes of his temperament. :)

4. Didi will crack jokes at midnight, when I want it calm, and expect me to enjoy them. :)

5. Uncleji will talk to me about everything endlessly. :)

6. Auntyji will cook for me and bake my birthday cakes. :)

7. Shripriya will fight with me, and argue with me, and never appreciate me. :)

8. Chandni will be neutral towards everything. :)

9. I'll be a good, sweet, simple, ordinary girl. :)

10. Some people will love me just as they love me now. :)

Factors that make it likely for me to be a star:

1. Dad says I'm the prettiest girl in the world.  :)

2. Anushka says I'm glamourous-humanitarian-where-I-go-publicity-follows-Angelina-Jolie types. :)

3. TC says a lot of things. :)

4. Jon says that I'm the biggest Bollywood star of the future. :)

5. KK Bhai says that he feels that I'll be a star before I'm 21. :)

Factors that make it unlikely for me to be a star:

1. I haven't done much yet. I'd like to say I'm into theatre, but then, I haven't done too much of that, and there are girls my age who're doing so, so much. A few are already stars.

2. I don't live in Mumbai (yet). And Farhan Akhtar, Karan Johar, Ashutosh Gowarikar, Sanjay Leela Bhansali, et cetera, don't even know I exist.

3. I'm not all that good looking, and I'm not trained in anything.

4. I don't have that 'star' vibe. I know of girls my age who do.

5. I'm not extra-ordinary. I'm not even extra-ordinarily ordinary. I'm just so... regular.

Assuming I'll not be a 'star' before I'm 21...

1. I'll dissappoint KK Bhai. :(

2. Things will go as planned. :)

3. I'll be happy only. :P

Uff... after all this, I don't know if it matters. In fact, right now, it does not. I'm more concerned about my Psychology project, and the Literature test and the Home Science practicals, and Lotus Buds, and the annual exams. I'm waiting for my birthday, and making cards for others' birthdays. Right now, I'm going to the Alumni Meet of my school (yay!) and I need to iron my dress.

Trying to listen to the silent whisper...

A spring that was lost in autumn,

A cloud that lost it's silver lining.

A sun that lost it's warmth and glow,

A star that's no more shining.

A valley once serene, now lost

Beneath layers of rock and sand.

A harp given up by an angel,

Being played in the devil's hands.

There is still the monsoon there always was.

Now, intimidating to her. Fear, when with him, was unknown.

There are still all the seasons there always were,

They all seem like winter - an everlasting coldness - now that she's alone.

A rainbow of seven colours,

Painted a dark shade of grey.

A little girl who set out

With one she trusted.

He loved her, he'd always say.

And he let go of her hand...

Somewhere midway.

A Voice

It's been growing on me since Wednesday. As I mechanically comment on my friends' Facebook pictures, and reply to messages that say 'Good morning', I'm actually thinking of Mumbai. Feeling for Mumbai. Nothing that I write here will suffice - that, I know.

I just seem to have a lot of questions, mostly 'why's... 

Who would've thought! Unsuspecting, innocent people - why should they die because of what happened in Gujarat as long back as 2002, something with which they had no connections whatsoever! One question, 'Uda de kya?' and one answer, and 17 innocents blindly shot at. 

Is this how inhuman humanity can get? Or is there something worse, yet to come? Bring it on, then. I think we can take it now, thick-skinned as we have become to events such as these. Nearly 300 people die, as many or more are injured, and the city gets back to normalcy. It bounces back to life. Hail the spirit of Mumabi. 

I'm not saying we are, but I most sincerely hope we are not mistaking an indifference for the never-say-die attitude.

Things have happened, and they've been forgotten, except by those directly affected, because 'public memory is short'. I can't help but say that sitting in the comfort of my drawing room, watching the mayhem on television, I feel as directly affected as it gets. Perhaps I'm overestimating what I feel, or, underestimating what they feel.

The last thing that we can want now is a blame-game. Aren't the USA, Pakistan, and India all equally victimized? It's like this black shadow looming over the entire world, and we prefer to get stuck in a mud pool of politics. Damn politics.

Condemnation has become the easiest thing to do. Statistics make the picture look relatively rosy. 'MUMBAI RAGING, 150 DEAD'. There's a story behind every single one of those 150, of the people associated with them, and all stories will be buried as we bury these charred bodies. I am a sixteen year old girl, loved by my family, adored by my friends, engaged in multiple activities, with lots of dreams, ambitions and hope for every tomorrow. It could be me, and the headline would still say 'MUMBAI RAGING, 150 DEAD'.

Sandeep Unnikrishnan, Vijay Salaskar, Ashok Kamte, Hemant Karkare, and all others who rushed to where others rushed out from - every Indian's greatest respect and gratitude goes out to them. At my insensitive best, I can say that they chose this life - that it was their duty to put our security before theirs, and they merely did what was expected of them. But, they did deserve better than to die for the reason of lack of proper equipment. These, our terribly underpaid heroes. I wish we learn to pay them for their service in life rather than in death.

I've read the newspapers cover to cover, and I've been watching the news. Apart from channels like Times Now, CNN IBN, and a few others, the media seemed to make a show of sensitivity, when their motive of sensationalizing and commercializing even this tragic an event was crystal clear.

You may ask, with all this concern, what I'm doing to make things better, and the answer is 'nothing'. I've prayed if that counts, but that's about it. I wish there was something more I could do - this is a cause worth living for, worth dying for. Yet, if not that, I'll be there as a voice of a world citizen who is pro-peace.

Getting Married

There's something so sweet about weddings. 

Yesterday, I attended a Sangeet ceremony. It wasn't a super elaborate affair, really, but it was definitely most sweet, and the sweetness wasn't in the planned-ness of the programme. Someone forgot his line, and his wife prompted him, trying very hard to be discreet. It's another thing that her mic was on, so everyone could hear it. The kids sung a song for their soon-to-be-bride sister, pretty out of tune, but the most sweet thing ever. Here a really really old Dadaji was poking his walking stick into one of his grand children, and the little girl was laughing at being tickled. The groom was definitely not the best singer I've heard, but he sung 'Chaudhvin ka chand ho' with such honesty for his bride, that it makes you want to melt. And if you didn't melt at that, then the bride's dance... :)

I love brides. I love the way they look, the way the walk, the way they talk, their dance, their song, their dress, their jewellery, and the very look in their eyes. Their aura. Everything. I completely relate to 'Geet', the 'Jab We Met' protagonist. Particularly when she says, "Mujhe bachpan se hi na, shaadi karne ka bahut craze hai, by God!" :)

This should've stayed in my fantasies, but I seem to have lost control over the fingers that are typing this. I really want to get married. Wear this perfect pearly, very subtly silvery ghaghra with dimanond jewellery for the Sangeet, and dance to some soft song, barely looking up, and then I'd like to dance to a really romantic song with the groom. (I was about to say to-be-husband, but that sounds cheesy.) Anyway, he would dance to some comparitively fast song, and perhaps sing a few lines of a really classic kind of a love song (without prior planning and preparation please), and we'd both smile a lot. And for the wedding I'd like a crimson and golden ghaghra, as traditional as it gets. I think I'll look nice. All brides do.

I wonder if wedding-dreams are a common phenomena among girls my age. I hope they are, because if not, there's something seriously wrong with me. I've thought about the dresses and jewellery and sandals for my pre-wedding functions, for the post-wedding functions, about the kind of hair and make-up I want, I've practised the soft gaze - no, this comes naturally - but yes, I have a certain idea of how everything's going to be. Sometimes, I even think, apart from dresses and jewellery, and hair and make-up,  of the kind of groom that'd suit me. 

The furthest I've planned is two nice kids.

(Don't laugh. These are innocent little dreams of an innocent little girl.)

Amidst The Madding Crowd

The music is loud and groovy, the people, all dressed to kill (at least in their own supremely important views), and a general wave of madness seems to have swept over the crowd, as they dance - slow, break, ball, belly - whatever. The DJ keeps uttering unfathomable things, and everyone seems to understand. The girls, despite the excruciating pain from their heels, are having a good time. The guys are enjoying themselves too.

But, the 'general wave of madness' excludes just this one girl. Tucked away in a corner, she sits with her legs crossed, fingers fidgeting with each other, eyes, mostly admiring the floor, sometimes scanning the crowd. She's nearly frowning. 

It doesn't suit her a bit. What suits her is her halter neck top, her short denim skirt, and her boots. The fringes look good too. She's full of life otherwise, but big crowds and loud parties do this to her. The generally slightly mad girl chooses these exact occasions for her spells of sanity.

Every now and then, someone comes to her, asks her to join in. She resists, but if they insist, she goes, and pretends to be enjoying herself. When she feels no one will notice, she slips away to her corner again. Sometimes, she takes a drink, and sips on it for as long as she can, as an excuse to not dance. She, by the way, loves to dance, and dances well enough to put most others to shame.

She doesn't know why this happens to her. She always assumes that she will enjoy herself, and is always disappointed with herself, for not being herself. She sees the couples, dancing close, and smiles. Sometimes she frowns at that. Nearly cries. They aren't feeling lost, are they? Maybe they are. A good kind of lost.

As she steps out, her ears still getting accustomed to the relative silence, she puts on her overcoat, to protect herself from the cold, and roving eyes. Back home, she removes her make up, splashes water on her face, changes into her night clothes, brushes her hair, and sky-gazes. The lights are turned off, she lies on her bed, cuddled up in a blanket, her eyes open, with a meditative calm in them.

Perhaps, she too will enjoy it all sometime. She smiles. Perhaps, she will know what it feels like - the 'good kind of lost'. Her eyes blink softly, and in moments, she is asleep.

The Look(s) :P

"Because I wanted to see that expression on your face."

This is one line I've heard so so many times after someone said something entirely untrue, or intentionally stupid, or maybe they goofed up and didn't want to look stupid, but that's irrelevant. Anyway, so, about the expression. Now I'm beginning to become aware of the myraid expressions I have. Like, every single situation has something exclusive for it. You may never witness them all, and you won't, in fact, so, perhaps, I can just tell you about them. And no two looks, however similar, are the same.

When I wake up in the morning, and if no one disturbs me - *the soft-a-little-lost-a-little-here-i-love-you look*
...and if I am disturbed - *the you-get-lost-i-want-to-sleep-again-wails-cries-sobs look*

When I'm going to school, if I am on time - *the i'm-going-to-be-the-next-head-girl look*
...and if I am late - *the being-head-girl-is-so-uncool-i-like-being-late look*
(If you're even thinking of asking me what the connection between 'on time'/'late', and 'head girl'/'head girl not' is... don't.)

When I'm the class prefect (which I have been for the last countless number of months, for reasons known only to IB) - *the i'm-so-responsible-dignified-and-all-that look*
...and when I'm not - well, it depends on the topic of the particular conversation that I'm busy with... *cheeky smile*

When waiting outside Mrs. Kar's office during class - *the relaxed-take-your-time-hi-amarnath-da-hi-jyoti-da look*
...and when waiting outside her office during the break - *the so-what-if-you're-the-principal-i-have-just-as-much-of-a-life look*

When I come across a good teacher in the corridor - *the it's-so-nice-to-see-you-how-have-you-been look*
...and when I come across a not so good teacher in the corridor - *the i'm-pretending-it's-so-nice-to-see-you-cuz-i'm-generally-polite-plus-you-better-give-me-marks look*

When I'm sleepy in a class - *the i'm-sleepy-but-i'm-keeping-my-eyes-open-somehow look*

When I'm in the bus and there's an aunt-like lady in a bright pink saree who insists on nudging me - *the huh-huh-i-have-as-much-of-an-elbow-as-you-huh-huh look*

When I'm walking down and people honk unnecessarily, just because I'm walking in the middle of the road - *the yes-the-road-belongs-to-my-dad-and-if-it-doesn't-it-doesn't-belong-to-your-dad-either-so-shut-up look*

When I see a cute guy - *the batting-my-eyelashes-without-making-the-purpose-too-obvious look*

When I see a hot guy - *the looking-at-you-looking-away-looking-back-at-you look*

When I see a rich guy - *the Dad's-earned-lots-you-blowing-it-up-eh-? look*

When I see a nice guy - *the i'm-glad-people-like-you-still-exist look*

When I see a guy who's hot, and cute, and nice and rich - *the i'm-dreaming-so-no-point-looking-or-even-if-i'm-not-you-can't-be-mine-so-no-point-looking look*

When I see a man who's hot, and cute, and nice and rich - *the you're-here-!-i-think-i'm-dreaming-but-yay-!-anyway look* (this, I haven't put to use yet - got no such opportunity :P )

When people smoke - *the pity-plus-anger-plus-disgust-plus-why look*

When I reach home - *the i'm-exhausted-where's-ma look*

When I'm pretending to study - *the why-am-i-studying-when-i-could-be-watching-clouds-pity-me look*

When I'm watching the clouds - *the i'm-so-fascinated-even-if-i-see-this-everyday-dreamy-eyed look*

When I'm sky gazing at night - *the i'm-so-fascinated-even-if-i-see-this-every-night-starry-eyed look*

When I'm sleeping - ...duh, how would I know how I look then! But my guess is *the innocent-happy-dreams look*

Some of my other famous looks...
*the yay! look*
*the haha look*
*the lost look*
*the thank-you look*
*the i'm-short-of-words look*
*the don't-talk-to-me-now-i-could-erupt look*
*the i'm-unreasonably-happy look*
*the i-love-you look*

*the you're-still-here-?-i-didn't-expect-it-but-appreciate-it look*
*the if-you've-read-through-this-at-least-comment-dude look*
*the thank-you-for-commenting look*

*smile*

Two Souls, and a Sunset... :)

We gazed at the sky...
The sinking sun, 
The returning birds,
Beyond all realities,
And greater than them -
Gazing into a distant world...

That world way above,
Of stars, and moons and suns...
The world where love
Doesn't seek reasons...

I wished to tell you then,
That I love you...
The purest love,
The love most true...
The soul that I am, 
Loves the soul that is you...
In every eternal moment
I've loved you anew...

Then I saw, the sun on your face,
You, lit up in the warmest golden glow...
And the need of words dispersed,
As if it were a defeated shadow...
I saw a light in you then,
And I knew that you know...

How my life lights up by the brilliance of you!
How my soul lights up by the presence of you!

The sun had set, undisturbed by superfluous words,
And the unspoken had been said in the silence...

Of you, of me, and of us...

Random me... (Random 3)

As I entered the room, my sandals made a sound which my ears immediately classified as noise. I took them off, and walked barefoot on the wooden floor.

Somewhere near the center, I paused, and looked all around me, taking in every detail. When flawlessness  and plainness come together, there isn't much to notice. I think I was just absorbing it all. There was so much the arched roof echoed, there was so much those mirrors reflected, and the beats, still resounding from that floor.

Four chairs were placed on one corner of the room, and I occupied the second from the right. My feet crossed to resist the urge to move to an inaudible beat. 

It all seemed to reappear before me. And then, it disappeared. Reappeared, and disappeared. The dupatta taken over the shoulder, and tied around the waist, the kohl-lined eyes, the wrinkles of the churidar, hair neatly pulled back in plaits, the faint stains of sweat on our clothes, and the glow of it on our faces. The sound of the anklets, now loud, now soft, now gone. 

My feet had uncrossed themselves, and my grip on the arm of the chair had loosened. I don't remember walking to the center of the room, but I found myself standing there. I tied my hair, rather untidily, and noticed from my reflection, that my glassy eyes longed for kohl. Still scrutinizing my reflection, I took the dupatta over my shoulder, and tied it around my waist. My feet, I could see, longed for anklets. 

And then, there were beats. I knew, they were only in my mind, and would be inaudible to another, but to me, they were compelling. My right foot stretched out, and the hand followed, and I performed with apprehension, the first tukra I had shown proudly to Ma. I remembered the excitement I had felt when I had put on the angarkha for the first time. I remembered the Ladi I had performed to an audience of more than two hundred people. As if in a trance, I found myself performing the Ladi again, and then the Tihai, and then, I was spinning on my feet, just the way I had, then. The spinning was uncontrollable, my feet wouldn't stop.

I fell on the floor, gasping for breath. The sweat on my face intermingled with silent teardrops. My heart beat hard, so full of exhilaration.

After a while, I got up, wiped my tears, tidied my hair, my clothes, put on my sandals, and walked out of the room looking a lot less solemn than I did when I had entered. I think I had a smile on. 

And now, I even walked on a rhythmic beat.

Random too... (Random 2)

It stares at me through the darkness sometimes. My head is resting on the pillow, my legs still searching for a comfortable position, and my thoughts - half real, half unreal, half thoughts, half dreams. It is at this time, that I am often caught off-guard. Being looked at is okay, being looked through isn't.
Feelings flow freely, with thought-sediments. Sediments, both newly formed, and from long ago. It is a little like a puddle, but a lot like an ocean, waves lashing on unauthorized shores. The leaves all whispering my secrets, and the whispers are loud. Some even echo. The breeze indulges in light-hearted mockery of the words never spoken, of the tears never shed, of the smile suppressed, and of that moment, when I'd wanted to hold you close. I'd wanted it with all my being, but I let you go.
I can't stand it, this mockery. I know that some whispers, that have never reach my ears, reach yours. I know you understand the unspoken words, get a hint of unshed tears, and recognize suppressed smiles. And I'd recognized your understanding of my wish in your smile. Almost a grin. A victorious one.
At the same time, I seem to like the revelation of my secrets, the way everything that once seemed monumental, now, is inconsequential. I like this grin of yours too. It makes fun of me, tells me something like, "I know", but it's amazing how at that exact moment, your eyes seem to say, "I understand"...
Come on now, stop grinning at me like that. It makes me uneasy.
My head is resting on the pillow, my legs have found a comfortable position, and my thoughts - all real, all dreams. Or dream-like, at least.

Random fun... (Random 1)

With a lost look on my face, I concentrate on a miniscule something, or more often, nothing. When this meditative calm is broken by another presence, a sound loud enough, or a wayward thought, I return to being where I've been all the while. Now, I sulk about my chipped toenail, catch a glimpse of me in the mirror, and think that my new hairstyle makes me look like Cameron Diaz. I fidget with my cell phone, purposelessly, I insist, but truly, with a sub-conscious expectancy of a call, knowing well enough, that browsing through every folder of the phone doesn't do a thing to make someone call me. Nobody's watching me then, but even in privacy, I have an ego, and it is hurt at the realization of the kind of importance I am giving to one call from one person. I put the phone aside, and engage in sky gazing. The sun is on its way down, and the birds are returning to their cozy nests, or so I assume. But it just could be, that one of them is flying away?

Realizations on the Tennis Court

This morning was one of its kind. I've never 'realized' so many things at one time, and I'd thought playing tennis was a fairly simple affair, like, hit the ball so that it ends up on the opponent's side of the court.

But.

I realized this morning.

Technique matters - it's not all about hitting the ball so that it ends up on the opponent's side of the court.

Even when it seems that the ball's gone crazy and your coach has lost control over it, he's actually intentionally sending it left and right for you to actually really try and hit it, and not relax with the happy thought that it's too far anyway.

There's no point looking around at others play and pitying your own form - it will NOT help you play better.

Your coach is SUPPOSED to play better than you, so it's just okay if you can't match up to him.

You just can't afford to choose the exact moment when you're supposed to hit the ball to decide on your breakfast menu.

Looking at the form the flock of birds is making when you're serving will ensure that you miss your shot and look like a fool.

The coach does not really need to be apologized to every time you make a stupid mistake.

Worrying over your chipped nail polish - No! No! No!

Trying to recall the lyrics of Jaane Kyun Dil Jaanta Hai... doesn't help.

Praying that a decent song plays on the FM on your way back doesn't help.

Planning your day doesn't help.

Trying to memorize all that you think so that you can put it up on your blog - doesn't help at all.

You need to FOCUS. On. The. GAME.

Also, that few things are more embarrassing than your coach telling you, "tum pehle decide kar lo, cricket khel rahi ho ki tennis, phir khelo", and then making you play at half-court.

All that said, I'm not really that bad at it. No Federer, no Rafa, no Sania - their worst game would be at least a 100x better than my best - but what the heck - I enjoy my game, and that's what matters. 

Unforgettable melodies - 1940s, 1950s

Some of my most favourite songs from the 1940s and the 1950s, beginning with Noor Jahan, to Lata, Mukesh and Rafi, and my favourite lines from the songs themselves...

1940s

Jawaan Hai Muhabbat

(Muhabbat karein, khush rahein, muskuraaein,

Na soche humein kya kahega zamana...)

Uthaayeja Unke Sitam

(Yahi hai muhabbat ka dastoor ai dil,

Vo gham de tujhe, tu duaaein diye jaa...)

Hawa Mein Udta Jaaye

(Hawa mein udta jaaye, more laal dupatta malmal ka,

Ji, mora laal dupatta malmal ka, o ji, o ji...)

Jiya Bekaraar Hai

(Jiya bekaraar hai, chhai bahaar hai,

Aaja more baalma, tera intezaar hai...)

Aaega Aanewala

(Maajhi bagair nayya saahil ko dhoondhti hai,

Kya jaane dil ki kashti kab tak lage kinaare,

Lekin ye keh rahein hain dil ke mere ishaare...)

1950s

Saare Jahaan Se Achha

(Mazhab nahi sikhaata aapas mein bair rakhna,

Hindi hain hum, vatan hai hindustan hamara...)

Tadbeer Se Bigdi Hui

(Kya khaak vo jeena hai jo apne hi liye ho,

Khud mit ke kisi aur ko mitne se bacha le...)

Shola Jo Bhadke

(Mehki hawaaein, behke kadam more

Aise mein thaam lo aake balam more...)

Awaara Hoon

(Ghar baar nahi, sansaar nahi

Mujhse kisi ko pyar nahi...)

Saiiyan Dil Mein Aana Re

(Thodi thodi chhed hogi, thoda thoda pyar hoga,

Kabhi ikraar hoga, kabhi inkaar hoga,

Tera manaana mera rooth jaana re...)

O Duniya Ke Rakhwaale

(Mahal udaas aur galiyaan sooni, chup chup hain deewaarein,

Dil kya ujda, duniya ujdi, ruth gayi hain bahaarein...)

Ye Shaam Ki Tanhaaiyan

(Jis raah se tum aane ko the, uske nishaan bhi mitne lage,

Aaye na tum, sau sau dafah, aaye gaye mausam...)

Aaja Re Ab Mera Dil Pukaara

(Ghabraaye haaye ye dil,

Sapno mein aake kabhi mil...)

Maang Ke Saath Tumhara

(Dil kahe dildaar mila, hum kahein humein pyar mila,

Pyar mila humein yaar mila, ek naya sansaar mila,

Mil gaya ek sahaara, ha ha ha ha...)

Ude Jab Jab Zulfein Teri

(Tujhe chaand ke bahaane dekhun,

Tu chhat par aaja goriye...)

Babuji Dheere Chalna

(Kyun ho khoye hue sar jhukaaye, jaise jaate ho sab kuch lutaaye,

Ye to babuji pehla kadam hai, nazar aate hain apne paraaye...)

Kabhi Aar Kabhi Paar

(Kitna sambhaala bairi do naino mein kho gaya,

Dekhti reh gayi main to jiya tera ho gaya...)

Pyar Hua Ikraar Hua

(Pyar hua ikraar hua hai, pyar se phir kyun darta hai dil,

Kehta hai dil rasta mushkil, maaloom nahi hai kahaan manzil...)

O Duur Ke Musafir

(Tu ne vo de diya gham, bemaut mar gaye hum,

Dil uth gaya jahaan se, le chal humein yahaan se...)

Ae Dil Mujhe Bata De

(Masti bhara taraana kyun raat gaa rahi hai,

Aankhon mein neend aa kar kyun duur ja rahi hai...)

Ai Maalik Tere Bande Hum

(Jab zulmon ka ho saamna, tab tu hi humein thaamna,

Vo buraayi kare, hum bhalaayi bharein,

Nahi badle ki ho kaamna...)

Jaane Vo Kaise Log The

(Jaane vo kaise log the jinke pyar ko pyar mila,

Humne to jab kaliyaan maangi, kaanton ka haar mila...)

Ina Mina Dika

(Ina mina dika, daai dama dika, chika pika rika

Ina mina dika dika, de daai dama dika, maka naka maka naka,

Chika pika rola rika, rum pum posh, rum pum posh...)

Chali Chali Re Patang

(Le ke mann mein lagan jaise koi dulhan,

Chali jaaye saanwariya ki gali re...)

Chal Ud Ja Re Panchhi

(Teri kismat mein likha hai jeete jee mar jaana,

Chal ud ja re panchhi ke ab ye des hua begaana...)

Aa Laut Ke Aaja Mere Meet

(Barse gagan, mere barse nayan, 

Dekho tarse hai mann, ab to aaja...)

Hai Apna Dil

(Ajab hai deewana, na dar na thikana,

Zameen se begana, falak se juda...)

Haal Kaisa Hai Janaab Ka

(Tum to machal gaye, ho ho ho,

Yunhi fisal gaye, ha ha ha...)

Aaja Re Pardesi

(Main nadiya phir bhi main pyasi,

Bhed ye gehra baat zara si,

Bin tere har baat udaasi...)

Dil Tadap Tadap Ke

(Tu nahi to ye bahaar kya bahaar hai,

Gul nahi khile ke tera intezaar hai...)

Aadha Hai Chandrama

(Aadha hai chandrama, raat aadhi,

Reh na jaaye teri meri baat aadhi, mulaqat aadhi...)

Waqt Ne Kiya

(Bekarar dil is tarah mile, jis tarah kabhi hum juda na the,

Tum bhi kho gaye, hum bhi kho gaye, ek raah par, chal ke do kadam...)

Kisi Ki Muskurahaton Pe

(Rishta dil se dil ke aitbaar ka, zinda hai hum hi se naam pyar ka,

Ke mar ke bhi kisi ko yaad aayenge, kisi ke aansuon mein muskurayenge,

Kahega phool har kali se baar baar...)

Sab Kuch Seekha Humne

(Phir bhi dil ki chot chhupa kar, humne aapke dil behlaya,

Khud hi mar mitne ki ye zid hai hamaari...)

Ruk Ja O Jaanewali

(Muddat se mere dil ke sapno ki tu rani hai,

Ab tak na mile lekin, pehchaan puraani hai...)

...the other decades coming up soon!! :)

I love music.

Just Wondering Aloud...

Mmm... I don't think I sing very well, but I love to sing. And, I sing when I water my plants, and they're not wilting, are all green, some even flowering, so, that's some consolation. I guess, it's okay if I sing.

:P

Nascent Dreams... :)

Nascent dreams born in an innocent heart...
Dreams of love, dreams of innocence,
Dreams that are soft, dreams of serenity,
Dreams that uncurtain views of angels and heavens.
White, feathery carpets, and crystal pillars,
And stars to adorn every wall...
A soft breeze, a dreamy mist, a soothing drizzle, 
Some sunshine, and snowfall...
Gentle fingers of angels of joy play on the harp,
And angels of love dance to the tune...
They dance in the twinkle of stars,
They dance in the luminescence of the moon...
Where eternities pass in lighthearted moments,
Where every moment is a beautiful eternity,
Where the softest feelings of the purest love
Fill our hearts, and encompass 
You, and me...

I wish to bring to your notice that...

News channels are NOT supposed to take sides. They must report facts as they are. They may be used as a platform to voice public opinion, but NOT their own opinion.

Watching Star News report Sanjeev Nanda's case this afternoon was slightly disturbing. The channel was clearly dead against him. 

Hullo? 

Can we please leave some things to the judiciary?

I think it's pretty clear that news reporting has gone from bad to worse in the last few years. Though ideally, we could strike a balance, I preferred the boring fact-type news to the current trend of interesting spicy-juicy-gossipy-MALICIOUS-type news.

The then President of India, Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam in a speech he gave in Hyderabad said, "I was in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper... It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of a Jewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert into an orchid and a granary. It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among other news.

In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime.

Why are we so NEGATIVE?"

I more than agree with the editors of the Israeli newspaper, and with our ex-President. Not only does the media concentrate on all that goes wrong, but exaggerates it too. Why? Because WE, as people, have developed a near-fond feeling for negativity. Unacknowledged, but there all the same.

Do these people who run news channels, edit newspapers, even realize the mass of people they're reaching out to! A simple thing like a typo doesn't do a thing to discredit a newspaper report. If I wrote something that's going to be read by thousands of people across the length and breadth of the country, I would make sure it's PERFECT. Does the fact that your articles come up every other day and mine don't justify your imperfection? And I will reserve my comments on the many varities of utterly incompetent news readers/reporters we have for fear of being more critical than suits me.

Every badly made ad perturbs me. If you get screen time on national television is THIS what you want to show? Some of them like Vodafone, Raymonds, and Saint Gobain make brilliant ads. Most others are certifiably C-grade. 

I wish to bring to your notice the sheer importance of screen time on national television! Are we really incapable of making better use of it? Or do we not care at all? Or do we just not 'notice'?

I'm ashamed... :P

Yesterday, I was depressed, drained, and destructive. I thought everyone wanted me to die.

Now, I'm ashamed of...

1. ...thinking like that.

2. ...writing it on my blog.

3. ...the fact that even when I was so sad, I was dramatic, and came up with really cool lines to describe how I felt.

4. ...not having the nerve to write those lines here.

5. ...being ashamed.

The fact that Shahrukh Khan once said that even if he didn't become an actor, and he became a soldier, and he was dying in war, he would die like they do in the films is a consolation, as far as #3 is concerned. I am very ashamed of SRK wearing a pink body suit though. :P

A Thousand Splendid Suns

Beautiful -
It stood there proud
Of it's uniquness
Amidst the crowd.

Minutely cut,
The glass
Shined like gold
Amidst dull brass.

It created spectrums,
And it's pride came through
In all it radiated
For the world to view.

His hand reached out.
Admired the beauty.
And crushed it
In a moment of insanity.

He stood there stunned.
His hands stained.
Proud it had been,
And proud it remained -

Dazzling in a million fragments.
Spectrums after spectrums, mocking destruction.
Blinding him -
A thousand splendid suns.

My Sands Await You...

I remember those days, when you and I
Walked by the shore, extending our horizon
With every step that we took together...
Watching the seagulls fly.
Us, engaged in simple conversation.
Every moment was to last forever...
The horizon is closing in, the skies above
Are lonely, for the heavyhearted seagulls don't soar.
These golden sands are losing their shine, Love,
For your feet don't touch them anymore...

A Reveal-All Post!

I'm single. And I'm confused about how I should feel about it. Be ashamed? Be proud? Be indifferent?

People drop their jaws as if they were going to make it touch their knees when I tell them I've never had a boyfriend! It's become an unwritten rule, that if you're straight, by the time you're sixteen, you should have a boyfriend. You're pretty, ugly, too thin, just right, fat, intelligent, dumb - all irrespective. You should have a boyfriend. And it's pretty easy, because everyone manages to find handsome, ugly, too thin, just right, fat, intelligent, dumb - male counterparts too. And of course the crushes and the heartbreaks are a part of the whole affair.

Frankly, I don't want to go through it. Crushes are fine, perhaps, though I've successfully managed to not crush on even the cutest guys. (That's a philosophy I'll talk about later...) It's about the heartbreaks. I'd die if I ever got dumped, and I'm incapable of being ruthless enough to dump someone.

You meet someone. Find him cute, hot, all of it. Crush on him. Talk to him. Flirt. He reciprocates in the same manner. Be all koochee-koo all the time. Fall in love. Say that you love each other. And one fine day. Break up.
That, is anything but MY story.

Since this is a reveal-all kind of a post, here's what my scene is: Come across Mr. Right when the time is right. Find him cute, hot, all of it. Crush on him. Talk to him. Flirt. He reciprocates in the same manner. Be all koochee-koo all... err, well, sometimes. Fall in love. Say that we love each other. And one fine day. Get married. Perhaps, I'd like two nice children then.
THAT, is my story. And it's really not as boring as it looks.

I guess I still live in the era of fairy-tales. Young girls with starry eyes dream of their princes, and then the prince comes on horseback, knight in shining armour and all, rescues the damsel in distress, and they live happily ever after. I'm not rigid about the prince part, the horseback part, the knight in shining armour part, and I'm just never distressed. It's okay by me if he's just another millionaire/billionare something, comes in a Porsche/BMW/Ferrari/Maybach/Rolls-Royce/Austin Martin, clad in an Armani/YSL/Gucci/Valentino suit. Not very demanding, am I? Look at the number of options he has!

Perhaps there's no one perfect. But what can one do about stupid, unreasonable beliefs! I think there's someone who's perfect for me! SomeONE. And that's why, I'm not interested in the rest.

For more clarifications on this topic, which has been an issue of universal interest, for reasons unfathomable by the author of this post, please feel free to ask her. She will probably bore you with more mush, and you will swear never to question her stupid beliefs again.


P.S. - I have recently discovered that more people than I know of read this blog. Apologies to all the people who are subject to boring, never-ending, I-me-myself kind of posts.

Regular? ...Not me!

"It'd be so great if I had something more than a headache. Something like brain cancer."
I blurted that out very matter-of-factly to my friend, and got a super-emotional "never-say-this-again" reaction. Not my friend's fault, I agree.
It's just that I've lived enough of a 'regular' life. I get up in the morning, and the sun goes up, up, up in the sky, and down, down, down, and I sleep. On most days, what I've done in the mean while is nothing worth the importance that we associate with 'LIFE'.
Here's where brain cancer comes in. If I knew I had, say, six months to live, I'd live my best life! I'd travel, I'd fall in love, I'd write a book, I'd make a movie - all of it - cram it up into six months of sheer exhilarating excitement.
It's not that I don't realize this is way dramatic, and that's not how it really works. If I had brain cancer, I'd probably spend six months consoling my family and my friends, and they consoling me, and getting horrible painful treatments done, and looking awful - which is the worst part.
But hey, don't look at the finger. Look at what the finger is pointing at!
My grand dad and my dad have spent their lives running after money - making it, losing it, remaking it. My grand mum and my mum have spent their lives running homes. They all spend half their time cribbing. I respect them all immensely (AND I LOVE MY FAMILY), but just this one thing, makes me think. Really hard.
I like to take responsibility for my life. If my life is a certain way, it's because of me, and NObody else! Awful, wonderful, tragic, magic - whatever.
I don't like being regular. I'm a talented girl, with a rather intelligent mind of my own, and I'm ambitious.
I'm just 16, yet, I don't want to wake up, and go to school, finish my homework, and eat and sleep. And get distinction. Blah. I don't CARE about distinction. What does a 95% in my report card do for me, if all I know is what I know from text books!?
I'd rather go out there, and experience life. Live it. Inhale it. Frankly, I don't even care about understanding it. I just want to have a good time, and do my bit.
Mediocrity is worse than losing. There's a way in which you can be a great loser; no way you can be great when you're mediocre.
I won't mind being rich and famous. But it's so much more important for me to be able to follow my heart, crazy as it may be. If I feel like going on a vacation without a decided destination, so be it. If I feel like watching four films a day, so be it. If I feel like jumping in a mud pool, then so be it. Whatever my heart says, so be it. That's life.

Look into my eyes sometime. Read a story.

The Cool-Uncool Conflict

I wonder if I can ever be 'cool'. And doubt it big time!

I mean, look at people around me. They're IT! They wear stylish skimpy stuff, stay at Soho, and are super-selectively social. They're rude, and ravishing. They're brash, and bitchy. They do JUST what they want to do, and carry their 'I-don't-give-a-DAMN!' selves with elan.
I'm not that, and I can never be. I'm all for stylish skimpy stuff, but if Ma doesn't approve of it, I don't wear it. I LOVE to dance, and to hang out, and a discotheque or lounge would be somewhere I'd go every single nightif I could, but if Pa doesn't approve of it, I don't go. Call me sugar-coated, but I'm nice to EVERYone, and I can't help genuinely liking people. I don't like being rude, and if I ever realize I have been brash, I go and apologize. I love living life MY way, but hey, my family, my friends - they happen to make up a lot of 'me'. And I do give a damn.

Would you laugh at me if I said that I deleted 'damn' and typed 'care' and retyped 'damn' to look less uncool?

I can't even use slang. Ultimate loser, ain't I?

I respect people, believe in God, and am not religious, but entirely spiritual. I like being there when someone needs me. I 'm good, and I know it, and I wonder if it's something to be ashamed of.
Moreover, I write pretty poetry, boring blogs, and read romance. I listen to old Hindi songs, and think Mukesh and Rafi rock. I cook as well. I love being lovable, loved, and loving.

An atypical 16 year old city girl. Atypical, because I'm normal. Because I'm not different. Because I don't do a thing to 'fit in'.

But I LOVE the fact that my life isn't messy, that I don't lie to my parents, that I can claim to have retained at least a bit of the innocence I was born with, and that I sleep on the softest pillow in the world - a clear conscience.

I'm cool.

The Hangover

You got it. It's Theatrecian again.
I just spoke to Aakanksha over the phone, for almost half an hour, and we are already QUITE capable of nostalgia for Theatrecian. Considering we had our post production party just yesterday, it's too soon for nostalgia. Or maybe, it's not.
The Night of January 16th. An adaptation of 'Night of January 16th' by Ayn Rand. (TC likes his plays to start with a 'T' : There's Something About Nemo, Towards Zero, The Night... etc.)
22nd September. The day of the show, that was the result of weeks of hard work, and the day that marked the end of 'evenings at Theatrecian'. *sobs* The show went well, and we had an immediate enthusiastic post production party at a Park Street restaurant.
Last evening, we met at our rehearsal venue: Deborshi's terrace. The entire cast. For the last time. *sobs* We played Mafia, we had mixed fruit juice (no alcohol for kids!) and we had dinner, and we had fun.
All the hugs, the high fives, the winks, the compliments, the jokes, the mimicry, the crying and consoling, the food, the fun... the evenings at Theatrecian... I'm going to miss it all.
For the next month, and a little more than that, all that features on my priority list is STUDY. Not the most pleasing thought, but I guess, that's how it works. And then, it'll be over, and in October, I'll be back to everything. I might even go for a vacation! Of course it'll be really sad if I can't be in the next production for that reason, but I suppose it'll work out the way it should.
Till then, I'm bringing myself back to a boring, goal-oriented life, where I do things not for the joy of doing them, where I don't live for the moment. But that's also important, I suppose. And hey, it's not going to last forever!
So I'm a happy girl, with a lot of happy memories, a goal to pursue, and basically, I have a LIFE! The best life.
*smiles a content smile*

Evenings at Theatrecian

So, I've written about Theatrecian before, and I have absolutely no right to repeat myself, but what do I do if there's such an awful lot I think, and feel, about Theatrecian! And anyway no one reads my blog, and I'm going to be happy reading this years later, so here goes.
Firstly, these are my first professional plays, so the excitement is justified, isn't it!? I'm learning so much! It is, in a way, shaping up tomorrow for me. Just taking baby steps right now.
And then, the people! They rock. Period.
Since I do expect the whole world to be friendly and loving, I wasn't surprised when Theatrecian was as welcoming as it was, but to have that expectation (more than) fulfilled is such a joy.

TC. I call him Dada. And he just feels like an elder brother. Yea, a whole lot of people would disagree due to obvious reasons *winks*, but Dada is what he is.
Dhruv. I call him Daddy. *chuckles* He has the silliest lies to tell. The stupidest jokes to crack. And I can bet he says "Shut up!" more times in a day than he says "Hello!". But he's adorable. Daddy's darling daughter thinks Daddy is a really really really - by repetition I mean to make it more emphatic - really really nice person. Really.
Kanak Bhaiya. The person whose vocal chords are responsible for the funniest noises.
Srishti Di, Devina Di, Freya Di - cool, cute, warm, genuine, nice. What not. Just the kind of Didis you want to have around you.
Aakanksha. The most sweetest girl ever, ever, ever. (Dada, you better disagree!)
Bharat. Okay, agreed we make a lot of fun of him, but he's NOT that bad. Really. No Daddy, I'm not crushing on him, but he's just alright. Though I'm still wondering why he can't have a crush on Devina. *winks*

Just every evening at Theatrecian, there's so much of fun, so many jokes, and SO much of serious work. TC, you scare me. You really scare me. Oh but yes! Today, TC appreciated my ACTING for the FIRST time. (Yayyiee *does a li'l jig*) Yes, he appreciates Aakanksha every other day, and I was almost dying waiting for him to say something nice to me as well! One small scene, one small act, and the director nods his head in approval. That makes me euphoric. *smiles a content smile*

Today was the last rehearsal until October. Sad. I'm really really really - emphatically - really really going to miss evenings at Theatrecian.

KK Bhai

Imagine this. You meet a certain person at a certain place, talk for five minutes, he's courteous enough to see you off, after having exchanged phone numbers. You SMS him a few weeks later, and he remembers you. You SMS each other on occasions, and one day he calls you, and you chat like old friends.
He is KK Bhai. We were chilling out backstage in a certain Falguni Pathak show, and he was the host. We struck up a conversation, and he, probably more as a courtesy than anything else, said "Keep in touch". Who knew we actually would!
KK Bhai is a script writer and a director and a few more things. Who's not heard of industry-walas being snobs, but he defies it to the limit of defiance!
Why am I writing about him? Here goes...
I asked him if my crush on the Hindi film industry should be elevated to the status of a love affair. I SMSed him, and he didn't reply. No big deal - "busy" is always a great excuse. But I was to be proved wrong. Being the kind of person he is, he called me this morning. As in, it is obviously highly appreciated if someone replies immediately, but I think it's equally, if not more nice of someone to remember to call you 15 days after you sent a random SMS.
Quite naturally I asked him in what is the most cliched line of the world, "Kaise phone kiya?", to which he explained to me the intricacies of dialing a phone. And then, spent at least more than 18 minutes of our 20-something minute conversation encouraging me. Wow. I mean, if he was not the way he is, we might not have ever spoken, and today, he's actually helping me answer one of the most important questions life puts to you! Learn something people. This is how you affect lives. You go the extra mile. He did.
When I thanked him, he said that he knew this insult was coming at the end of the conversation. That if I called him 'Bhai', this was the least he could do for me. What gets sweeter?!
I may be a script writer, or a director, or a something-to-do-with-films tomorrow. May not be. But if I am, the first person who I owe a thank you to would be KK Bhai.
I've heard that when people grow up, they become mean. Even though I've totally decided against growing up, in the unlikely condition that I do, I still want to be able to thank KK Bhai for just being who he is, and that is the sole purpose of my writing this post.
This wasn't meant to be an entertaining read. It was written just for me, to be able to get back to a few years from now, and always remember to be gratified to KK Bhai, and other people like him, who unknowingly come to mean a lot.

By silver reeds in a silver stream...

Too many posts in quick succession, but this time, I just came back to say that the moon looks absolutely gorgeous tonight. =)
Cheers..!

Nostalgia

I just accomplished Mission Impossible. Cleaned up my entire wardrobe. *gasps*
The funny part is, the kind of attachment I develop for old stuff. There's a certain white shirt - it's torn, it's dirty, and I don't want to throw it away. There are all my old school uniforms - useless, and I don't want to throw them away. Of course I have a Mum, and she sees to it that my wardrobe is not cluttered with such stuff, but I do manage to sneak in things at times. *pats herself on the back* My most favourite old clothes are my night clothes, for a random, unexplicable reason.
That apart, my notebooks from school, my test papers, all my diaries - they're ULTRA-precious. Mum insists on me throwing them away, but so far, I've successfully managed to preserve them. Test papers reminds me, I have two consecutive Physics tests' papers, where I got 3/10 in the first, and 3/20 in the second. I have a chemistry test paper, where I got a 9/10. I have a chemistry test paper, where I got a 9/10. (Something as miraculous as that deserves mention more than once.) :P
My old diaries have sketches (made during a Hindi/EVE/Maths class), poems (random lines -to be lost in those pages), autographs (my own), and a few notes, if they happen to be diaries I'd intended to use for school work. They're a treasure to me.
Every now and then, just going back and flipping through the pages of my growing up, makes me feel, err, all grown up, but very very nostalgic. *experiences contentment*
For the exact same reason, photographs are such precious possessions. God bless the creator of the digital camera, but there is something undeniably beautiful about old photo albums, about that picture that's faded with time, allowing you the pride of the fact that it has stayed fresh in your mind, your heart. *remembers her granny's picture, wishes she was half as pretty*
I preserve them all: the fight my friend and I had on paper in the English class, the rockets we threw around in the Maths class, the notes we passed, the names of friends written one after the other, the name of a friend and her boyfriend enclosed in a heart, the scribbles, the cartoons, the cards, the letters, the friendship bands, the pressed flower, the dried leaves, the empty box of chocolates, the ten rupee note that came back to me twice, the empty envelopes of the money received from Dadu on Diwali, from brothers on Rakhi, the oldest box of tablet paints, the sheer nostalgia of every moment that I've lived a long time ago. I preserve them all. All these moments.
It fascinates me, that the fact that I'm sitting here, writing a blog, will be a thing I'll feel 'nostalgic' about when considerable time has passed. The flood of compliments I got the day before, the scolding(s) I got yesterday, the sweetness I got today, the getting drenched in the rain, the splish-sploshing shoes, the high fives, the big plans, the I-feel-low times, the small dreams, and the smallest things that pass by me now, that I don't even notice, I will recall tomorrow, and smile. How, as I said, fascinating.

Dreams Resurrected

A castle built of a pack of cards,
Each carefully placed.
Cruel claws tear my world to shards.
All dreams disgraced.

Innocent, unconditional smiles -
Taken away.
Teary-eyes, quivery lips -
And a teardrop gives way.

No hands to wipe my tears.
But they eventually dry.
No one to soothe my fears.
But I still try...

To rebuild my castle
For my dreams to reside.
To stand as testimony
To a fairy-tale life...

Theatrecian!

Hello!

It's been a long time, and I have a LOT to say! Beginning, and considering that I have to be off to bed in a while, ending with Theatrecian.

Warning: It is highly doubtful that you will understand the context of the following lines. (...giving backgrounds to exciting stuff just dulls the scene...)

So...meet TC. TC. The guy who's most passionate about TheatreCian. I could be wrong, because there are others, equally into it, but his seriousness as a director brings him to an all new level! Though I prefer Dhruv the director. All chilled out, relaxed, cool, calm. Managed Bharat without a fist fight! :P (Don't even ask who Bharat is. *winks* ) The second most important thing about TC is that he pretty much loves me. Like he loves Aakanksha. Anisha. Amoolya. Freya. Anuradha. Mrs. Ghosh. The girl he saw outside Gyan Manch. And there's a word I can't resist mentioning - 'acquaintance'. (Azu, you get the context, right!?) And he gives out his number in a rather assumingly stylish manner. He won't say 007. It's 98-----James Bond number. Eww. Adorable all the same. I mean, a 100 compliments a day make just about anybody adorable. TC isn't too bad even without those!

Meet Dhruv. The guy who has a 3 year 2 month old son by the name of Vishal out of a wedlock. Vishal goes to playschool. Vishal thought my attire for my role was perfect. Vishal doesn't exist. This is Dhruv's idea of a joke. Eww. He doesn't even have a son! How disappointing. But he's so funny! As in, not Vishal. Dhruv. TC asked me if I know what a typewriter does. I said yes. He asked if I minded playing one, and I said, "no, I'll gladly do it". After a minute of deep reflection, Dhruv: "Then we'll need one more character" *TC gives a quizzical look* "If Yamini plays a typewriter, who'll play the typist!" ...I mean, I know you aren't dying of laughter right now, but situationally it was nothing short of hilarious. *laughs on this for the seventieth time*. Another word I can't help but mention here: 'antilogarithm'.

Meet Aakanksha. AKA Azu. My comfort factor. My fun factor. Help. And whatever I needed.

Meet Sud. Sudarshan. Richard Smith. Richard Plantagenet. Richard III. And mind you, they're all the same people. He has other names too, but I can't remember them. A brilliant actor, and a comedian to the height of comedy itself. His fake heart attacks are so fake, and so funny!

Meet Freya. I don't like the fact that she smokes. But I like her. She's cute! And she sleeps on the ledge of the terrace! I mean, Freya, you could fall off - never, ever, fall asleep there again. Period.

Meet Srishti. She's sweet, and has the most comfortable shoulders to rest your head on.

Meet Devina. The prettiest girl in Theaterician. Period.

Meet Kanak Bhaiya. The only guy I'm allowed to call Bhaiya. Though I do call TC 'Dada'. Another word that deserves mention: 'No' *Praneet style, whoever Praneet is.*

Meet Ronak. Gujju going to USA. Only his second name's not Patel. *winks*

Meet Bharat. The guy who comes an hour and a half late, when he comes early, and comes the next day, when he's a little late. That's all I'd really want to say.

Meet Joseph. The violinist with all possible songs on his iPod.

And then there's Katy Aunty, Anisha, Amoolya, Aniruddha, Rajatri, Supriya, etc. etc. etc. I don't know them well enough yet.

So, the thing began with me entering the scene. Obviously, on my blog, everything begins with me. Me mum and me sis accomapnied me Day 1, and Day 2, I was a part of Theatrecian. 'To Sir, With Love', and 'The Three Mistakes of My Life' saw me through the first few days. Then, TC first spoke to me, as a friend (acquaintance? *winks* - only Azu will understand!). And appreciated my "dedication". And I decided, it was high time I left my books back home. And there was no looking back. All the people I mentioned here, are now pretty much my friends! (or acquaintances, TC?) Blah.

Now, Azu's blog reminds me of it, and I have to mention, Dhruv's wig. If you aren't laughing right now, is because you haven't seen Dhruv wear it. *laughs out loud* And yes, about Richard III being in the heat of the battle - Sud actually jumped up and down on stage! *laughs hysterically*. I apologize people, cuz this is a post very few will relate to. You can't enjoy it even if you try to - cuz it's just about Theatrecian and its people, and we are a bunch of crazy people doing some crazy things on stage, off stage, back stage - basically, wherever we can do crazy things.

L.O.L. - our latest production was a runaway hit. A house full. And it felt great. While rehearsing the way we'd bow to the audience in the end, Dhruv said. "X comes in here, Y here...Audience is clapping...Take a cue from me...Bow...Clapping more...More...Bow again...More clapping...Curtains" And actually seeing that happen was MAGIC. *smiles from end to end*

I was an insignificant jury member, an insignificant backstage manager, but what matters is, that Theatrecian is ultra-significant to me. I love the whole feel of the rehearsals, of bunking classes for tech rehearsals, of arranging costumes, of the make up man doing your make up right - finally, of checking the prop list a fifty times, of snacking on stuff, of saying no to all the "Cha" that is being offered all the time, of the greenroom, of the co actors, of the little prayer before the show, of the cheers, of the stage, of the hugs, of the applause, of the success, of the - now I remember - pending post production party!! *winks* Dhruv, when, where?

Theatre is it. Reminds me of the legendary Raj Kapoor - Jeena yahaan, marna yahaan, iske siwa jaana kahaan. For all you know, I'll be doing something else tomorrow. But today, I feel this way, and this moment is life. De---eep philosophies.

Haan, Dhruv. You aren't Bhaiyaji. Haan, Freya. I'm a princess. Haan, Azu. I'm a great backstage manager. Haan, TC. I'm sweet, pretty, and all of that.

As of now, I'm one more thing. I'm sleepy.

Cheers to Theatrecian!

CINI Asha

Hi!!Long time!! Well, well, I've been busy. Yeah, you got me right. I. Have been busy. Random things: Learning lawn tennis, X-uberence (the one act play), inter-house debate, Lotus Buds editing, attending parties, and studying. That apart, sketching, painting, listening to music, dancing, talking to people and so on...

Recently, I visited an NGO (which I will be going to every week), called CINI Asha. The Child In Need Institute is called a halfway-house; it houses underprivileged children for and prepares them admission in good schools. These are kids they've picked up from roadsides, railway stations, children of sex workers - who, if left in that environment, would take away from society, rather than contributing to it. CINI is also a part of the TOI initiated Teach India project.

These kids need love. I spent about thirty minutes with them, and in that they showed me prepared group dances, and they sang, and they asked me to join them (which I did!) , and before I left, they all wanted to shake hands with me, and asked me to come again: "Aaj to baat hi nahi hua, Didi..."

Am I going again?

Can't wait!

Please try and do something for these kids. All children deserve love, care, protection, education. At least food? Do anything. Do something. I mean, I may be sounding all artificially concerned, with this kind of persuasion, but I mean it as truly as when I say 'I want love, care, protection, and education'.

If I could support one social cause, it would be the environment. If I could support two, I would just want to ensure that every single child gets what every single child needs. If I can afford it, I want to give them not only things that they need, but also what they want! Why not? If we can spend thousands of bucks on dinners and dresses and parties, I suppose we can spare 5 bucks to buy muri, or an ice cream for that little urchin who looks at you with craving eyes as you have your Cornetto. Can you do it? If you say no, all I have to say, is, GET A LIFE.

It's not me, being so blunt, so try and think how strongly I feel about it. Go ahead, and do these little things - please...

Cheers to the love you and I spread around us! :)

It's been a good day... :)

Hello!
Today's been a good day. Spoke to one of my best friends for a long time after a long time. Feels good. Called a cousin over, and we saw Race - a cool, smart film. Made Maggi for us. Cooked dinner as well - mixed veggies, and rotis - and everyone liked my experimental food! Spoke to my favourite - Nitika Di - I really have to tell you more about her!
She's always been a brilliant student, is immensely talented, and is one of the sweetest people living on this planet. She just manages everything so beautifully, keeps everyone around her so happy, and makes you feel good about yourself, and everything else - that's what I want to be like too! I'm learning, evolving, and then, I just may end up being THAT sweet one day!

By the way, I've finally decided. Graduation in BMM, St. Xavier's College, Mumbai, and Post Graduation at FTII, Pune.

Today's been a good day, though the fever doesn't seem to be leaving me as yet. But cribbing is so not-my-thing.
God's blessed me (and you) with so so much, that if you crib, you have to be the most ungrateful person on earth. You and I can only thank God, and bow very very low with love and respect! It's so sweet of Him to have given me a perfect life. (Thank you, once again, God!)
I'm just feeling good and happy today. The kind of happiness that you feel without a reason, is not intense, but like a constant soft smile that cannot be suppressed.
Take out a minute and let's thank Him for everything...I have my own list, and you say yours.
And these are just a few lines I'd penned randomly...

You light a candle,
I light one too.
You fold your hands,
And I do.
You say a prayer for me,
And I, for you...

Take care, and smile a lot!

Understated, chic.

Hi,

Guess what I'm doing now? Obviously typing, but with a thermometer beneath my tongue. Yea, I've got this silly-little-nagging-type fever. We did expect it, after all the sneezes.

And since not too many people are reading my blog as of now, I take the liberty to make this my daily journal (or whatever I, at the particular moment, feel like making it), and also the liberty to be very boring.

If you're still here, I feel like acknowledging your loyalty!

I finally finished reading The Devil Wears Prada, and liked it too! Only that as Andrea Sachs, I wouldn't have sold those adorable LV-Gucci-Blahnik-JimmyChoo-Prada-of-course-accessories. And guess what, one thing on my Things To Do in This Life reads 'Buy a Harry Winston' *dreams, dies, goes to heaven*

*comes back*

Allow me to exaggerate just a little, and I could say I'll give my right arm for it! Of course, the rest of the adorable things are not far behind. ;)

As you now know, I'm totally into fashion. As in, I barely care about the 'current' trends, but, I sure like to keep it stylish! Understated, chic.

If I stay on longer, I'll probably elaborate on the coveted brands, tell you more about my sense of style, maybe comment on my opinion of fashion faux pas, and put you off to sleep somewhere in the mean while. And anyone who realizes that, and still stays, would seriously need more dignity, and more 'life' in general. I'm going...cia..!!

Stay sweet, simple, stylish!

A Way Back Into Love

Music & Lyrics happens to be one of my favourite films, and well, this, I wrote right after I saw the film. In the movie, there's a guy who plays the musician, and a girl who's going to write lyrics for him, and they have the title of their song, which is 'A Way Back Into Love'. So, I just got inspired, and penned this down. Of COURSE the song in the movie is better.

We walked a path,
Not so long ago.
Together we were
Good to go.
I had you and
You had me.
Things just as good
As they could be.
Then what makes me so lonely
Today?
Did I leave you or did you go
Your way?
But I know I want to find
My way back into love -
A way back into love.
I've searched for you.
I've looked for love.
In the earth below,
In the sky above.
I've given up now.
Want to love,
But don't know how.
Come find me -
Show me the way -
My way back into love -
A way back into love...

When You Say Nothing At All.... achhhhuuu!! :P

Hi.
Well I've just woken up...after sleeping for less than 20 minutes. And, when I've just woken up, I tend to be really lost most times and today is included. I don't really have any 'thing' to say, but that's normal. But I have a cup of good ol' cappuccino, and I'm listening to Ronan Keating...'you say it best, when you say nothin' at all..' - lovely song. One of Brett Lee's favourites, and mine too! And I have a cold. Not exactly, but it's like, there are sneezes queued up in my nasal tract, and right now I'm awaiting my 437th sneeze of the day. I'm sure you don't want more details.
'When You Say Nothing' is by the way, on repeat, and I love listening to my favourite songs like that.
I read Amitabh Bachchan's blog yesterday - all of it. Half to see what the buzz is all about, but the other half because I was genuinely interested, and found him pretty good. Some of the lines his father, Dr. Harivanshrai Bachchan has written, are so good, so really good...that we don't even have a word for that. I read the entire book, the very famous Madhushala, and it's awe-inspiring. Really. We had some of his poems in our school text books, and those are practically the ONLY Hindi poems that I've really 'liked'. Oh, and if you didn't know - I'm really very good with Hindi - all my teachers for the subject have said so. Ditto for English. In fact, I still have a notebook, where my teacher - Mrs. Saha - wrote 'You have a genuine flair for the language', 'Good work!', and other encouraging stuff.
I definitely am good with words (and I don't mean it the arrogant way), but I still think - I say it best when I say nothing at all!
I wish there were more books like The Devil Wears Prada. I mean, light reading, you know. The Fountainhead is absolutely brilliant, but heavy all the same. If you know of books like that, please let me know!
Now, I'm really running out of things to say. As I very candidly admit, I'm getting boring. And what a time to start blogging! But then, I guess, what I've written previously - all my poems - should suffice until I regain my 'interesting-ness'.
I'll post my next post right away - a poem, on public demand!
See you around!

Mrs. Aditi Nikhil Patel

The Airtel you are trying to call is currently switched off. Please call later. - The most disappointing reply you can get on phone.
Urrghh..! I, after a hard days work, remember to return your call, and YOU have the nerve to keep your phone switched OFF! Blah. Forget it.
There goes my purse *flings it away*, there goes my file *flings it further away*, and here go I! *falls (and the couch by Heaven's grace has chosen to be laid down beneath)* The 'phew!'s and the 'huh!'s and all other sighs follow in random order.
It's not funny. It really is not funny. How could he? That same guy who didn't receive my call. How could he not tell me that he's going to be out! How could he have left his papers scattered on MY table? How could he...Damn, no. How could I! Why did I ever choose him...I know now, why they say that you 'fall' in love. I probably knew that before as well, but I'd assumed that it wont hurt, and that friction - the Newton's law one - would help. But look what happened, I fell, and hurt myself, and I can't get up - and who I fell for, doesn't care! And the friction - it's there where it shouldn't be. Congratulations, Mrs. Aditi Patel, you've won yourself a life full of...of...things better left unsaid. Or, well, full of, misery - unspeakable, unexplicable misery.
It's not fair, is it? Mr. Patel has work, Mr. Patel has friends, Mr. Patel has parties to attend and Mr. Patel can disguise them in the name of 'social OBLIGATIONS'. And Mrs. Patel? She has, well, whatever Mr. Patel wants her to have! Or put it this way - she does not have what he doesn't want her to have. So, she doesn't have help from him, she doesn't have any knowledge of his whereabouts, she doesn't have him. Hmm, congratulations.
I don't know how this works. The marriage. And the new vacuum cleaner. I'm NOT going to do this. I'm off to sleep. Good night, Mr. Patel! (wherever you are...)

"Good morning, Aditi...".
"Hmm..."
"Uh...well, I was at Amit's party and..."
"Umm...ya. The driver wants his salary. Would you pay it today?"
"Yes."
"I have to reach office earlier today."
"Aditi, this evening, I thought w..."

Pay the grocer. Deposit the cheque. Car needs to go for service.
"Can I collect the car by evening?"
"Yes Ma'am, and Ma'am you must fill up this. We have a luck-..."
"Ah, no, thanks..."
"Ma'am, you must!"
"Okay..."Mr/Ms/Mrs - Why do you have to remind me?
Name - Aditi...well, Aditi Patel.
Spouse's name - Why do have to remind me?
"There, done. At six, then?"
"Sure Ma'am."

I like office. When everything about life seems to be rotten, it's difficult to appreciate even fresh flowers, but I can't help saying that office is good. I like the environment, the people, the work - all of it. Not everything is rotten. It's just one thing. But, WHY do you have to remind me?

"Fresh flowers? For me?"
"Yes Madam."
"Look, you must be mistaken."
"Aren't you Mrs. Aditi Nikhil Patel?"
Why do you have to..."Yes, I am Aditi."
"These are for you Madam."
"Uh, okay, thank you."
Flowers? Carnations? Who even KNOWS that they're my favourite flowers? Moreover, WHO would send them to me? Reading the note would be a good idea. 'Hi Aditi, I'm sorry for all the mess in the last month. See you at 8, at home. I love you.'
What EXACTLY does he mean by this? Does he think he can upset my whole life, and then say he's sorry. Prove that he doesn't care about me and then say he loves me!? Blah. And, my favourite flowers are orchids, not carnations.
Work finishes at five, collect the car at six, be home by six thirty. No! Work finishes at five, collect the car at six, meet Anjali over coffee at six thirty, visit Sumit at the hospital - he got discharged yesterday - damn; meet Anjali, then meet Akash at seven thirty, and have dinner with the Chaudhrys. That's fine.

"The dinner was lovely, Aunty!"

I don't want him to be at home. I don't want him to be awake. I don't want him to be waiting for me. I don't want him to have dinner ready. I don't want him to have not eaten yet. I don't - "Hi Aditi, I'll park the car for you. Go in, it's pretty cold outside.""No Nikh-", "Go in, and I'll be there in a minute."
Do I have an option.
And yes, I didn't want him to be waiting outside, especially when it was freezing! There was a time, when I'd wanted all of that. But just then, no! I'd just got so used to him not being there. And he walked into my life! Again...He was at home, awake, waiting for me. He had the dinner ready. He hadn't eaten.
That evening didn't change much - but something had happened. And that was the something that made me smile, when someone from the garage called me and said, "Ma'am you've won a 3 days/4 nights holiday for a couple in Singapore!"
Congratulations, Aditi.
Mrs. Aditi Nikhil Patel...

Things to do for a living & things to do before I die..!

Do you know what I want just now? A decent video camera, and a compatible video editing software. I feel like making a movie. Just. Out of the blue. I don't have a script, or a story, and of course no actors. But I just love the whole idea - it is so exciting! I mean, to think of something, and make it materialize! Imagine an entire sequence, and then create the thing and capture it to see it again and again and again. And if it is decent, then show it to other people as well. Today, I want to be a film maker. And a designer as well. I've spent an hour trying to make a dress for my doll. I once almost made one successfully, and then lost patience with the stitching. Let's see what happens about this one. Actually, I want to be a fashion stylist, not a designer. Fashion journalism sounds cool too. (I saw the movie, and I'm reading the book - The Devil Wears Prada, and I had these interests from ever earlier.)
If someone takes me, I might be interested in advertising modeling, but I'm ultra-choosy.
And I love songs, and I love to talk, so I could also be an RJ or a VJ.
And I have a whole lot of creative ideas, and I can really convince people, so being a copywriter in advertising won't be bad either. In fact, every not-well-made ad makes me pity those people who waste precious screen time on bad ads.
I'm writing these blogs, and one day, I will write well, and then I'll become a print journalist. I can really not be a TV journalist considering the kind of nonsense they have to present as 'BREAKING NEWS'. Aamir Khan cropped his hair. Breaking news. Salman Khan to host a TV show. Breaking news. A kid fell in the gutter. Breaking news. And mind you, about the kid falling in the gutter, it is breaking news from the time he's discovered, to the time he's outside, which could mean that the news talks about him only, for 27 hours. I mean, is that really the most important thing in the world? Kid fell in, then take him out! Don't tell us what you gave him to eat for Christ's sake!
Even for print, I see myself freelancing, if I ever get in, that is.
Event management and brand management are other likely options.
And now, I have to eliminate almost all options to decide upon what I actually finally have to do! Crazy thing, this.
But I guess it'll work out, and, sort of, magically unfold before me. Or at least, I hope so...

But you know what!? In the middle of all that, there are more than a hundred things that I have to do. I've listed 135 already, and I can think of 5 more at the given moment. It's like this list, of what I have to do before I can check out heaven.
Some of them read like this:
Get a temporary tattoo on my back.
Learn to ski.
See the Taj Mahal by moonlight.
Make 10 prank calls in a row.
At least ‘see’ the Ty Warner Penthouse on the 52nd floor of the Four Seasons Hotel.
Sky dive.
Throw a dart at a map, and go there.
Be in two places at once.
Donate blood.
Throw a coin in the Trevi fountain, at night.
Watch an Atif Aslam concert, live.
Have Bill Gates adopt me, or be in place of Allegra Versace.
Give an autograph.
...these are the most sane, the most possible things on my list! (Apart from the Bill Gates/Versace part of it - but can you believe Allegra Versace is going to inherit all of the Versace 'empire'!! I deserve it more I suppose? :P )
Anyway, enough for the day I guess. Nobody likes long posts.
Bye!
Bye the way...I mean, by the way, suggest a short movie story if you're very creative - one which does not require too many characters, or suggest what I should be doing for a future..(?) Or just post your list of things to do in this life!
Cheers!

For you...

I, like a star
Will fall from my sky
So that your wish
May come true...
I, my love,
Will gladly die,
If I may die
For you...

The Verdict.

Hey, I'm back! Was up so early this morning - say - 5ish...exercized, fixed breakfast, cleaned up some regular mess, and...I'm...here! I was watching Kya Aap Paanchvi Pass Se Tez Hain yesterday. The format and all is cool, and I think I'm quite smart, considering I can answer most of the questions, but the BEST thing about the show is Shahrukh Khan. The best thing about any place where SRK is, is SRK. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not this real crazy fan of his. In fact, I think he's an average looker, a fairly good actor. I'd rather watch an SRK interview than a movie of his. It's his quick wit, sense of humour and ability to put everyone at ease is what I'm really in love with. Of course, what impresses me most is the hard work, and honesty that he puts into everything. I mean, it's not that I meet him everyday, to really know what he's up to, but it somehow shows. And it makes me smile.
I don't idolize people. It's just that, I often see some traits in them, which I like, and want to imbibe in me as well. There's a whole lot of such things in SRK.
Talking of SRK, reminds me of Hritik - my only other real 'favourite'. He tops my list, on account of being nothing short of 'Perfect!'. He looks like a Greek God (or, were they that handsome?), and acts convincingly, making me believe that no one else could've done it like that, dances fabulously well, is loving, kind, and forgiving. Can you believe he actually defended the people who attacked his father? And said, that he would want to know the reason why they did it, rather than just having them jailed. Wow. That's a man. Of course brownie points to Hritik for his whole story with Suzanne. I've seen the Rendezvous, and the KWK episode when they were on the show more than three times each. :P
*sighs*
Among the debutants, I really like Ranbir and Neil, and prefer Sonam to Deepika.
That's that. The "verdict" is given. :D
Don't be surprized if I come up with more such 'verdicts'. I have an opinion on everything that I know of, and I'm so totally in love with Hindi cinema. I'm actually thinking of studying film direction. What do you think!?

Serendipity...

As I look at the sky
Lying on my bed
Hugging my pillow tight
I wonder about things
That are beyond me
I wonder about what is
Or what might be
Is my whole life
So boringly mechanical
Depending on my decisions?
I can't really tell...
But I do feel there is
Something like a bigger plan
It'll lead me where I should be
Like it's got me where I am
I don't fully understand this
And I don't think I must
But if destiny ever came calling
I know I’d answer first
I'd say “Hello,
I've heard of you
I know you run things around here
That you make dreams come true”
And destiny in reply, I suppose,
Would lead me somewhere
With seemingly silly ideas in my head
And little signs here and there
Serendipity,
Or Destiny, or Fate,
I know, and I have the faith,
Will lead me right up to my soul mate -
Or him up to me!
Destiny, Fate, or
Serendipity...

(Yea, I watched the movie today...but it's not as much about the movie, as it is about this really weird idea that I've always had in my head. You know, like what these few lines express...about this really big plan. About the entire Universe conspiring to make your life perfect. About not ending up with someone you can live with, but someone you can't live without. About ACTUALLY being with your "soulmate"! Wow.)

P.S. - I sincerely apologize for this kind of mush. If you want, Serendipity can lead you to a million dollars, or, bring you that dress you've been eyeing, or well, get you the job you want too! Serendipity... :P

I Promise Myself...

I Promise Myself...

To be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind.
To talk health, hapiness, and prosperity to every person I meet.
To make all my friends feel that there is something worthwhile in them.
To look at the sunny side of everything and make my optimism come true.
To think only of the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as I am about my own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.To wear a cheerful expression at all times and give a smile to every living creature I meet.
To give so much time to improving myself that I have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
To think well of myself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words, but in great deeds.
To live in the faith that the whole world is on my side, so long as I am true to the best that is in me.

Christian D. Larson, 1912

What is that you are to me?

I ask myself this time and oft,
What is that you are to me...
The colour in life’s faint outlines,
My soothing shadow, my bright sunshine,
The beat of my heart, the whisper of my breath,
The kiss of life that can bring me back from Death.
A moment in time, my eternity,
In a savage world – serenity.
The best chapters of life – relived, revised,
A wish turned true, a dream realized.
My heart has answered time and oft,
That is what you are to me.