On cooking

If it has chicken and green beans, I’ll eat it.

On books

If it doesn’t say anything stupid in the first 20 pages, I’ll read it.

On booze

If it's free…

Scene Three- Music

The drummer in her head had been joined by a cymbal player and a very enthusiastic trumpeter.

Alive

She draws her knees together and rests her head on them; she wipes her tears imagining him doing it. She can almost hear him whispering to her that she was safe now, that he loved her. He wasn’t real, but she could almost felt it. She knew it was stupid, but if her mind could play this trick to make her feel better, she would play along. Sometimes he took the shape of her latest crush, sometimes a character from a story. He has to be the reason I am somewhat sane*. I wish I could make him come alive.

I find it difficult to post, because somehow too many people I know (and don’t like) come here. I will stop writing here, because it’s becoming a chore editing the entries for fear of giving too much away. I wish they would go away. What to do?

Alan Jackson- Remember When

*-( sane? heheh)

Living the Deam

I always knew that I would love living alone. And now that I have for quite a while now, my mother knows it too. It scares her, I should scare me too I guess.

I love being able to hear my thoughts, I love being able to listen to music when I want to. Being able to breathe deeply, to read without interruptions, to look at the stars, to think. To live without hearing someone else’s voice, without sharing my space with someone else. I can’t stand to have someone around me for a long time. It’s not like I do bizzare stuff while I am alone (like walk around naked; case in point P) I do mundane things, like work on the computer, read a book. And when I am doing these boring things in my room and you do happen to walk by, even quietly; I will consider it an intrusion. I have seen that if I don’t get to spend a significant amount of time alone, I turn into a raging ogre in a few days. No kidding. And that should scare me. It doesn’t. What scares me are people who can’t stand to be alone.

The hippopotamus in me.

We go a long way back. Hippopotamuses and me.

My parents were nurturing doubts about my mental growth when at age 4 the only story I wanted to hear was the one my dad had made up. This was also the time I wanted to be a boy. The story was called The Baby Hippopotamus.

There was once a baby hippopotamus, he was very naughty. He did not want to take a bath, but his mother would not listen to him. She washed him, and cleaned him. She made him wear nice clothes and she put powder behind his ears. And she put cream on his face. She combed his hair. She made him wear nice shoes. She told him to play carefully and not get dirty.*impish smile on little girl's face, yeah right*

The hippopotamus went to play out. He saw a puddle.*sparkle in little girl's eyes* The puddle was very dirty. The hippopotamus jumped into the puddle.*SPLASH* *HURRAY*

His mother would see him, scold him and clean him again.He would go and jump into the puddle again. This would go on and on and on, till I would go to sleep, a contented smile on my face. I got over the wanting-to-be-a-boy syndrome, but I still jump into puddles.

So when I read this story, it’s understandable that I feel warm in my tummy.

The Box

When she first got it, she wasn’t very happy. It fact, she did not quite understand her mother's vehement request that she keep the box.

It was a jewel box, a small box resembling a dressing table; with three drawers. You could hold it comfortably in the palm of your hand. Inside the box, within each drawer, were pieces of jewelery. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets made of glass, stones and metal; the treasure of a 9 year old girl. Her sister. Every time she opened the box and saw the pieces of jewelery, which were kept thoughtfully on a bed of cotton, her heart broke a little. She could see her sister’s small hands as she played with the jewelery. She could imagine her sister’s impish smile as she posed in front of the mirror and twirled. She could feel the anger and the pain growing in her heart as she remembered that her sister was not with them anymore. She could feel the guilt growing inside her as she told herself that she had no right to this box, no right to this pain; as she told herself that others were being so brave. She hid the box.

Two years later.

The beautiful young woman sits at the coffee house waiting for her friends. A soft smile lights her face as she strokes and kisses her bracelet. It still hurts. That, she knows will never go away. She is trying to get over the guilt she feels about hurting so, when she knows other people hurt more. She goes home to open the box again. She sheds a few tears but these are happy tears, born out of the knowledge that she was blessed to have once known an angel.

Feeling guilty about not calling her aunt enough, she dials her number.

music: Wake me up when september ends ( Greenday)

Scene Two-Screwed*

Him:“So, what are you going to do now?”

Her: “Laughing like a madman is a possibility. Screaming like a banshee is another"


*Screwed- completely mishandle or mismanage a situation.Completely.

se7ev

Se7en-The Tag, courtsey of Rajesh. Thank you.

Seven things that I plan to do:
Adopt a child
Own a house
Go to Rome
Do a course on psychology
Go deep sea diving
Get a tattoo
Travel on the Palace on Wheels, Venice Simplon-Orient-Express and The Blue Train.

Seven things I can do:

Smile

Eat a full cake.

Love

Take charge, when things go wrong.

Hide what I am feeling.

Rationalize.

Hope.

Seven things I can't do:

Not stand out.
Forget.
Make the first move.
Remain calm when being photographed.
Decide exactly what I want in life.
Have conversations with puny-little-arrogant-stupid-ignorant-selfish-pseudo-confident people.
Be serious.

Seven things I say most often:

(I am more of a sound-person (if that’s a word) I don’t say words, I make appropriate sounds.)

Hmmmmm
Accha ( Alright)
You think so? ( when I don’t think so)
Seriously * while I am trying to stop ROFL*

Sure

Homie * :-p *

Thank you

I Woke up in between,a memory and a dream

A mob attacked the city hospital, breaking all the equipment, hurting doctors and patients. They were the supporters of a local goon, who succumbed to injuries earlier in the day. Went to the city hospital to discover the extent of damage caused by the mob. Discovered that the mob also attacked the dead bodies in the hospital. Dead people.

Pessimism-4

Hope-0

A friend, whose father died in kargil, called. The house which was allotted to her family, after the war, is unlivable. One wall is about to fall.

Pessimism-1

Hope-0

Grandmother fell down the stairs, hurt her hip. This is her fourth operation in two years, she was operated on last month too.

Pessimism-1

Hope-0

Found out that the next exam is a killer. Nobody is sure about what the professor plans to give in the exam. Sadistic laughter is heard from the department office.

Mood: Morbid

A dog sleeps in the middle of the college road, while kids angle their vehicles around him.

Flowers blooming in the garden.

Grandmother is singing again.

Sunrise.

Men and women make a human chain to save the doctors from the mob.

Over all tally:

Hope: 27

Pessimism: 6

Earnest Hemingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place and worth fighting for." I believe the second part.-se7en

Scene One

Him:" You're acting like a pigheaded boar!"
Her: "Isn't that redundant?"

She ducks the flyng pen.

Pride

We will speak our minds.
We will be kind, only if you deserve it; not because our mothers taught us well.
We will not respect weakness.Being pseudo-intellectual does not make you wise.
We are not sorry that we are successful.
We do not think anyone has an overnight success or a stroke of luck and all that jazz.
We do not think that anyone conspired to make you fail, no not even fate.
We will not "help" you. You have two hands; we will help you get the tools. Rest is up to you. You will get what you deserve.
We will not play your game.
We do not mind when you call us selfish. We do not consider it an insult.
Everyone is living their life as they want to, we do not think we know best. We may not know anything; we respect your right to live as you do.
Being kind, honest, open minded and hardworking is very important to us.
We do not expect anything from you, you shouldn't either.
We value our time.
We do not care to answer questions like," Will you save a man or earn money"
We don't believe in discussing our choices or sugar coating them for you.
We try very hard not to judge anyone.

Posted on 27th October,2005

Amusings

I love bookcases. And I like to keep books in bookcase, not photographs or knick knacks, as is the latest fad. I am old school. Books in bookcases, strange candles somewhere else! My books are divided into three groups-the ones I adore and will never part with, ones I want to read and the ones I got as gifts or bought on impulse, tried to read and failed. None of these will I ever lend to you. I am not your average book lover, as with all other things in my life, I am a psychotic, slightly nutty booklover. I love my books and if I see you treating my books roughly, leaving them open, upside down,I will pounce on you. Also I never lend my books, EVER!

Roommate Musings

My mess, your mess: You develop this almost supernatural ability to distinguish between the messes that you created and those created by the roommate.

Food: You learn to serve ½ of the food available in your plate. The quantity of food is not an issue here. You may finish it in ten days; serve it in one go or it may be lost forever.

Not coming home to an empty house is a great. Coming home to a hot cup of tea and a good listener is a blessing. Not being in a relationship with that person is a miracle.

Shopping buddy: Shopping buddy who reminds you that rent has not been paid while you both cry outside Ann Taylor.

Language development: Improving Hindi skills, all comments about people are strictly in Hindi. “Vo Lal Kapde pehnee admee ko dekho”

Sharing Rent and bills: Yeah baby!

The voices only speak to me

Things to do this month:

• Spring cleaning: get the wardrobe in order.(check)
• Start doing more volunteer work: Animal shelter.
• Start taking time to read: go to a park and read on Sundays.

Kickbacks:

• Get hair colored or get a tattoo.

Charmed

As I was lying on the bed, with a single tear balancing on the edge of my eye; the day could not get worse. I had no idea why I was low. I had a bad feeling about almost everything in my life. I had spent last night fighting the morbid thoughts my brain was churning out.

I had angels watching over me.

As I cuddled with my favorite pillow and turned on the television someone was waving a wand. One of my favorite movies was on and I was right one time. This never happens to me .Ever.

The little imp's were hard at work.

As I went on receiving compliments and sweet messages from friends, acquaintances and total strangers, I knew I was blessed.

How a sweet message from a total stranger can cheer you up is magic.

It was just that the time was wrong

The delicate strands, formed out of bizarre coincidences, consequences of perfect timing and a testament of the ridiculous inconsistency of human nature.

I am inclined to leave it at that. But people already suspect that I am crazy.

I like to think that accidental happenings which later became important in my life were a sort of sign. Our lives would be so different if we were in a different place on the day that we met our lover. If I were in a different place ? If I had already been in relationship? If I was not feeling almost lonely? If I was not ready to feel vulnerable?

How many relationships have gone by us just because the time was wrong?

I like to think that knowing the person a little gives us control over the relationship.Relationships and human nature is ridiculous, a great friend can make a frightful boyfriend. A great son could be a awfull father.

Why I am a different person in college and at home scares me sometimes.

5 Questions

Do you think your looks have helped you?

They have certainly made a difference, but I can’t say always to my benefit. HOD’s have been known to flunk me because I am who I am and look like I do.

What would you change about your life?
Nothing much, I like me and what happened to me is a part of who I am. I am only twenty one, no regrets yet.

I wish I had read Steinbeck sooner though.

What is the one thing that attracts you to a person?

I can’t really think of one thing, it could be anything. Their general demeanor, eyes, the way people laugh, the music that they listen to.

Why do you dislike talking about yourself?

It’s a devious scheme, I love talking about myself and act like I don’t and then people want me to talk about myself and everyone is happy.

Why do you overreact when you hear about parents trying to stay together for the sake of their children?

Ah, I don’t overreact. I believe that when your parents do not love each other the kids can sense that and they feel insecure. If by staying together the parents are bringing out the worst in each other, it can’t be good for the kids.

Wish you were here

posted 27-Jun-2004, Sunday

“Why does God make nani cry?” my 4-year-old cousin asked me. My grand mom was praying and crying at the same time.9th July is the first death anniversary of my cousin sister Saumya. She was 10. For the past week the whole family has been recalling what happened this time last year. It took me a long time to realize that my cousin sister was really gone. Sure ,I cried for days when it happened. But it was surreal. This can’t really be happening, she can’t really be gone? One night I was just thinking about the last time I met her, about how her small hand had fit perfectly into mine and of how we were walking down the road in front of her house and talking about how our brothers were really all goofy. I was reliving the whole scene in my head and I couldn’t remember which hand it was that she was holding or how it felt to hold her. I broke then. I thought about how selfish I was and how I had forgotten this detail about my little sister. I thought I would go on forgetting some little detail about her. I was wrong. I will cherish those precious moments I spend with that angel and my kids will know what a totally amazing mausi they had.

Song: Tears in heaven

I Hate Mangoes!

posted 21-Jun-2004, Monday

What is the deal with people and mangoes? Why is it so hard for anyone to believe that someone cannot like mangoes? I hate mangoes. They make me cringe. After I am forced to eat one( in my family everybody loves mangoes ..That’s cool with me but the idea that I don’t like mangoes does not register. I think their brain is not ready to process the fact that some people do not like mangoes.) Haan so after I am forced to eat one I am left with an awfully sweet taste and minute mango fibers stuck between all my teeth. And you would think that this only lasts for a few months and it would be worse if I dint like bananas which are somehow available throughout the year …get this my dad goes to Bangalore a lot and every time he goes he gets a basket full of mangoes. We actually had mangoes in February once.

20 Things About Me

1. I was born on the fourth of March.
2. It was a Sunday.
3. I am very proud of this for some reason.
4. This is my favorite number.
5. I have curly hair.I wear it straight now.
   
6. I would get bald in summers if I someone proved to me that it will grow back just as curly.
7. I think I have small eyes.
8. I am a cleanliness freak. Freak I tell you.
9. I love buying Linen.
10. I love clean sheets.
11. I have difficulty figuring out right and left.
12. I think I am a good listener.
13. I don’t like alcohol. Don’t tell me that it’s good for anything.I drink now.
    
14. I cry at farewells.
15. I love the rain, and I love jogging in the rain.
16. I love dogs.
17. I haven’t quite figured out if I like to cook.
18. I don’t think so.
19. I love to read for an hour before sleeping.
20. I love sleeping.
    

Updated- 03/22/07