Ahh, Delhi. It's good to be back :)

Guess where I’m sitting right now? Yep, in my office! It’s been 12 days since I started interning at Tehelka. It feels so weird to tell people, “Hey I’m at office. I’ll get free by 6.” Wow. It sounds so grown-uppy. Since when did I have to tell people I’m not free and have ‘work’? Work? Is it really work? I guess it is. It may not be super-significant, life-changing, altering-the-course-of-events-in-the-universe work, but it is work nevertheless. A magazine company is like a huge piece of machine that never stops functioning, and though I may be a tiny cog in the entire set, I am a part of it alright :)

I’ve primarily been working on a one-page section called  Master Takes that gets featured towards the end of the magazine. It may not be something that you cannot live your entire life by without reading, but it is a lot of fun to do. I got to interview a lot of interesting people, and compiling and editing everything they say in a 100 odd words can be more challenging that you might think it is. Going up to people and asking them to talk to you can be even more daunting. But it pays off. I also covered a festival at the India International Center and going to the Commonwealth Book Prize at the Oxford Book Store at CP tomorrow. So yeah, things are not as bleak as they could have been.

As interns, we are on the last rung of the hierarchical ladder, and something we find ourselves barely dangling, struggling to keep up with everything that happens in the office. Pardon me to use the recently used and joked about analogy, but this place is like a beehive. Phones are ringing; phone calls are made every few minutes; the writers typing furiously on their keyboards; the designers designing the pages, eyebrows scrunched in concentration; the editors often have a war of words on certain topics and story ideas; news channels spew relentless news stories on the big plasma screen. It was very difficult for me to accept that my boss does not look at me or greet me with a smile because that is how it is at the workplace, and not because she is miffed at something I did. (I am ecstatic now when she smiles or says hi)

It was a little overwhelming in the beginning. Calling people 30 years elder to you by their names, trying to not get affected by the fact that no one even looks at you or acknowledges your presence when you enter the office and sit down meekly at your desk and look around. Or having to realize that this is not college where everyone would be enthusiastic to get to know each other. They come, do their work, and go. They live their lives seriously. They mean business.

This does not mean they do not enjoy. They have their own fun moments, teasing the others, laughing, cracking jokes. And the good, witty kind of jokes. Not the juvenile ones that people crack at college. I feel stupid looking at them and grinning, obviously not being able to join in the conversation. They are good people. I can’t help but notice the look of satisfaction on their faces when they see their stories printed in the magazine. I want to have that. Some of the people here are so knowledgeable and good at what they do, I feel like it would take me years just to come to that level. But I will. I know I will. I like to work in the features. I might just continue this in the future.

I feel lucky if I get work. And when I don’t, well reading blogs, articles and 9gagging helps.

But you know what is awesome?

I live in Delhi on my own with my friends. It’s the kind of freedom I never thought I would get to experience. Living on your own, buying groceries, getting the house cleaned, cleaning and washing sometimes, taking care of work, food and mood swings and adjusting with each other. It all gets really tiring but is really exciting at the same time. 

When all 6 of us are back from our work, we bitch about how bad our days were and fight about whose was worse. We sit in the balcony, order pizzas and chatter on about senseless things. We sometimes cook for each other, we tease, make fun, and sometimes go bonkers laughing. We sometimes go out walking, take random rickshaw rides, eat like there's no tomorrow and have illogical discussions late into the night. It is amazing to come back to a house full of friends who you can just flop down on the bed with and talk to. Or with whom you can go out and roam around the city, trying out all the cheap street food and buying things we would need in the house. A house where you have your own space, where you can stretch out and read a book, or go to sleep whenever you want. And it helps to have friends who will hug you when you cry and cry for no reason in particular. It helps even more, when you have friends who will hold a guitar like a monkey and dance around the house with it.

It is unlike anything I have experienced in life so far. It’s great. I love it. I know these are one of the best days of my life, and they are passing by, a tad too fast! I want to make the most of these. And I know I will. For now, just taking it one day at a time. 

It's great to be a Delhi-ite for the next one and a half months! :)

First film!

Hello beautiful readers!

We were supposed to make a Personal Documentary as part of our course. The rules were: it was to be 5 to 10 minutes long, no music was allowed and no special effects. So I just shot a bit on campus, and patched all the archival footage I had with it and just sewed it up together to make this!

Awaiting your comments and feedback! My first movie :')

Click here: My first documentary.

Check it out!

Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purr :3

The past two weeks have been emotionally harrowing. Not only have I been facing severe existential crisis, I am also becoming increasingly anti-social. Not a good thing, I know. But I guess it’s just one of those phases. I really hope to get out of this rut soon, and put some life into this blog as well.

We went for an overnight trip to Satara as part of our Rural Reporting course. And it turned out to be one of the best things I’ve done here so far. Just visiting the villages, talking to the people, discussing, and thinking of new story angles was an experience in itself. But even this trip and the IIM fest together could not manage to lift me out of my slump for long. IIM A was kind of an enchanting experience for me. The campus mostly consisted of red-bricked buildings, lots of trees and scurrying animals, good food and lesser restrictions. But what bowled me over was the kind of passion, energy, enthusiasm the participants in the plays showcased. The street plays in particular, were unbelievable. I had no idea they could give me goose bumps, make me move to tears and have the power to touch me to such an extent. Our stage play was good, but it paled in comparison to the other stage plays. Kirori Mal college (DU) performed a play called A Threesome without Simone, which involved only three actors on stage. It was an extremely intricate and delicate play but they carried it off with such skill and finesse I could only wonder how they get the time and the drive to act so well. 

Once back in college, I went into my black hole again. Coming out only briefly, as if a little mole poking its head out of its hill. But something amazingly extraordinary happened today evening. I was in the middle of an argument with a friend, when a furry little ball climbed up the staircase where we were sitting. Now I have never been a fan of cats, I’ve no experience with them, and I always assumed they were selfish, irritable little creatures. But this little kitten did not claw me or run away; it just lay on my lap while I stroked its fur. I played with its paws, I touched its little nose, I squeezed it, and it just lay there on my lap, sleeping peacefully. It was such a furry little thing, and it was so cosy against me, I had to bring it back to my room. And bring it back, I did.

(Snuffles in my room!)

(Snuffles cozying up against me :))

(Sleepy kitty)

(Look how tiny it is!)

I’ve decided to call it Snuffles and it is sleeping very peacefully on my tummy, all curled up like a little bundle of warm, purring joy. What amazed me was how quickly my agitation evaporated once I started playing with the little thing, and how elated a strange, lone animal can make you. It’s the perfect company if you are a little homesick and down in the dumps too. After a lot of running about, posing for pictures, hiding under the bed, some warm milk and half an Oreo biscuit, Snuffles is all tucked in while I watch Monsters, Inc :) I can hear its soft purring, and I can feel its heartbeat. Such, such, SUCH an adorable little thing.

There are ways to bring yourself a little happiness. Reading a comic book, listening to your old favourite pop artists, playing with a stray animal, or just enjoying a warm cup of tea at night. For me, as of now, it lies in looking at the Calvin and Hobbes poster and the clandestine messages given to me by my pseudo Secret Santa: Banta Singh :) And of course, Snuffles.

Even if everything we do doesn’t seem to bring us happiness, we can at least try. It can be amazing how sometimes the littlest of things turn out to be exactly what we needed. 

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my readers. I love you guys :)                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Of College and Shooting stars

I have been procrastinating a blog post for a VERY long time now, thanks to the ever increasing ennui which has been on an all time high last month, but if there was going to be any reason for me to get my arse here and write, it was this: It’s 12/12/12! The last repetitive date which I’m going to see in my lifetime! Makes you so aware of how mortal you are. And how life is so very, very transient.

It’s funny how it’s almost always Radiohead which helps me transition from my no-writing to writing mode. I’ve had days when I’ve just sat like a big gunny bag full of sand doing absolutely nothing. And I’ve revelled in it too. Is that okay?

Maybe it’s the foreboding about the 21^st of December *snigger* If that does happen, I will die in a bus on my way to Ahmedabad. Which, by the way, is a pretty lousy way to die. I’m playing a small part in a play written by a friend, which got selected in IIM A’s annual cultural fest: Chaos. I’m pretty psyched about it, seeing as Dualist Inquiry is going to perform there as well. Also, I have another white hair (the third one now) and a fresh new pimple on my cheek. All telltale signs of the coming apocalypse no?

The past one month has been jam-packed, airtight crazy busy. Which is awesome, because when I’m busy, I don’t think about evil things. I can just come back to my room, surf the net a bit, and sleep like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Which by the way, it really is these days. College has been good to me, and bad to me. Mostly good though, because it has made me aware of all the things I didn’t know, and all the things I’m yet to know. Journalism is unlike any other profession. You don’t delve deep into the workings of any one subject, you delve deep into basically everything; politics, history, psychology, sociology, anthropology. It made me realize how I was trapped into a microcosm of the huge, huge world and how blind I really was to so many things we face today as Indians, as people, as humans.

We finished our first live reporting TV news story yesterday. We basically did it in one and a half days, and there were a lot of scuffles, tension, hyperactivity, flared tempers and egos and mini mishaps and disasters. But to watch the final output on the screen with the entire class and being appreciated was a brilliant and relieving experience. College has been about juggling between workshops, classes, practices and taking out significant portions of time to go on the terrace, lying down inside fluffy blankets and watch the meteor shower till late into the night. It has been about listening to The Fray as the stars shoot around you, and a misty cloud floats across the sky while you ponder about the life, the universe and everything. About trying to accomplish all tasks on time while oscillating between sudden bouts of euphoria and abrupt depressing spells.

Life here is about talking to everyone, but knowing who matters to you and keeping them very, very close. Life here is in trying to see beyond what you see, trying to appreciate what you have, and stealing those few favourite moments just for yourself. It’s about reading in the library, making tea in the middle of the night, skipping meals and making impulsive plans of going to the city, laughing at a nonsensical thing. Someone once told me that we usually forget most days, they just pass by, in a jiffy. But we remember some particular days because they made us feel different, special; so why not try to do something that makes you feel like that every day and make every day worth remembering?

With winter finally here, Christmas on its way and secret Santa surprises in the air, it’s very difficult to remain grumpy for long. Especially if your next two days are holidays and you have time to read, write and sleep. Even though I do not believe in it, I made wishes when the stars were falling around me. I guess we do need to keep a little faith inside us alive. 

I have no idea what title to give to this post :D

Yes, I know I’m obsessed with the rain and I write about it wayyyy too much. And it’s another one of my I-just-WANT-to-write-a-blog-post-so-I-will moods. But please, I HAVE to talk about it again. Pwetty pwease! It was just too epic. Okay one of the overly used terms here. Epic! Amongst others. But I digress.

So, six of us were sitting at one of my favourite parts in my college campus. It is a projection which overlooks the valleys and the hills in the distance. It makes me feel really light and springy, and it’s ironically called ‘The suicide point’. Well, because one slip, and you might just fall. But even then, the maximum damage that you can do is break your bones, or worse, your phone. Anyhoo, the sky was considerably clear and the air was pretty calm. And then, they emerged.

Ze clouds. They approached from one side of the sky like huge, sinister dementors, gliding ominously in the sky. They looked like brobdingnagian monsters, and gigantic dragons covering the sky as we screamed “Oh my GOD this is SO epic duuuuude!” And then. It got better. There was a storm; there was the most terrifyingly loud thunder and the most powerful lightning I have ever seen. One half of the sky was completely dark and curtained by the black clouds, while one side was still bright. It was like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. It looked like aliens were taking over the sky, (Independence Day style) or better, it seemed like it was going to be the end of the world. It gave me chills. It felt unreal. I couldn’t believe anything like that was even possible.

The next instant, I felt a thick drop on me. IT.HAD.STARTED.TO.RAIN. That moment I knew I was not going to run under shelter. As my friends ran to stand under the shade, I just stood up and looked at the view. It was like the rain was saying, “Fine, get out of my way, but let me happen.” Another friend and I, stood there, arms outstretched, soaking the water in, feeling the drops on our faces, and for the first time in days, I felt utterly, and blissfully happy. (Zomg I’m happy just thinking about how happy I was)

The teeth clattering, the sneezes, the shivers, the unmanageable hair, were all worth it. The lightning and thunder continued, and after I was all dried up after a hot water shower, I just sat in the balcony and listed to it. After dinner it rained again, like cats and dogs and dinosaurs and almost flooded the area outside the Coffee shop. We sat there, felt the spray on our faces and had hot chocolate. I felt so relaxed, so, so, so EPIC :D

Sometimes you know what I feel? I feel that I don’t mind going into mind-numbingly, suicidal phases of mind, if the opposite of it means this carefree abandon, and joy. And this reminds me of Calviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!

Okay you know what? I have a three hour long 80 mark Photography exam tomorrow. Gulp, yes, I know. But I’m too happy to study :D It seems so trivial :P

I'm just so ecstatic right now and I have no idea why :D

I love long walks, and long talks, and discussions over hot cups of tea, and chocolates and random texts and everything everything EVERYTHING. I love the things I don't love because they make me realize how much I love the things I love. I need to bite someone.

Oh my god I need to get myself tested :D

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! :D

Black holes and revelations

Even though it’s nice to come back to a roommate who yells a loud ‘Hi!’ even before you’re inside the room, and one who threatens to throw you out of the room if you don’t get some fresh air when you’re down, it does feel good to have the room all to yourself for a week. You can wear whatever you want to (if at all), you can fling your mess around the room for a change, you can listen to whatever you want to and at whatever volume, you can cry, and you can trash someone on the phone. You get the picture. It just feels very, liberating, ‘sall I’m saying, even though it gets lonely after a point.

I just finished a Photography assignment. Clicked a few macro shots. Flowers, bees, butterflies, stones, whatever I could find. I love butterflies, they’re beautiful. And they do not fly away when you go close to them. Also explored my voyeuristic side as I snapped pictures of them making babies. Dragonflies, on the other hand, are tricky little paranoid creatures. But I love how their wings glisten and sparkle in the sunlight. It’s brilliant. Sharing some of the pictures here :)

(Butterfly, fluttered by)

(Sunlight dipped petals)

(Glittering wings)

(Yellow)

(Spiraling down)

(Love is in the air, and on the wall)

(Ribbit)

Mark Knopfler’s voice is caressing my ears, and calming me down. His voice is like chocolate, which is also what I’m eating. I really like it when sunlight permeates through the pink drapes into the room. Today was our last day of classes. The official last day of Journalism and Audio Visual students together. Ten days before the final exams begin. We had night photography classes where we captured light trails, and where we sang songs and rejoiced the ending of the first phase of a wonderful journey at SIMC. The wind echoed with the soft acoustic strums of the guitar and our voices trailed far into oblivion. The first semester is already over. One and a half years later, I’ll be writing a similar blog post about the end of the course, and the end of my stint here at Lavale.

The last two months have been the most beautiful and the most unexpected and unusual months of my life. I didn’t even come to know when the rain gave way to the lush green plants, the trickling waterfalls, the rainbows, the colourful flowers, the slithering snakes and the peacocks. When the fog took over the sunlight, when the breeze got colder, when the moon became bigger, when the sunsets became even more heavenly, when the friends who I hardly talked to became my best friends, and when my feelings transformed. It is funny really, how sometimes you don’t have a control over how you feel. You try to cling on to what is right, quite like Jim Carrey trying to grab hold of the memories of Clementine washing away from his conscience in The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And you fight, and you deny and you hurt yourself and despite it all, you feel yourself slipping and sliding down. As Leo Tolstoy said, “Is it really possible to tell someone else what one feels?”

You look at the sunset, you feel the breeze against your face, you walk on moonlit drenched roads, and watch the clouds glide past the silvery shiny orb, and your eyes water with ease, and you feel like you can laugh and cry at the same time. Sometimes feelings can be so illogical; heck they are mostly always illogical, and no matter how much you try you can’t prevent yourself from crashing deep into the infinite abyss of treacherous emotions. Sigh.

Sometimes it feels like a dream, or like life is playing a silly joke with me. And sometimes, I don’t mind it. Not at all. It is really hell inside my head sometimes. Do I like to sabotage my own happiness? Do I revel in being miserable? To add a dramatic tragedy in everything I do? I wish the wind would carry my feelings away, far far away into the valley, or the rain would wash away my confusion. I don’t like it. Not even one bit. And sometimes I do, and I want to be entrenched into this sweet sticky painful sickening feeling. 

I’m listening to Dream of a Drowned Submariner and thinking of a close friend who very conveniently is chilling at home and happily rubbing it in. The Heartbreaker misses you.

“From down in the vault, down in the grave

Reaching up to the light on the waves,

She did run to him over the grass,

She fell in his arms and he caught her

So went the dream of the drowned submariner

Far away on the water,

Far away on the water.”

Now

Every face is beautiful. You just have to look close enough.

I sat in a group of 15 odd people in college during a meeting today, and looked at every face slowly. No face can ever, ever be ugly. There are the little things about them.  Stubby noses, long noses; curly hair, straight hair; big eyes, small eyes; pimples, smooth skin. The beauty lies more in the kind of expression they wear on their faces. I have been feeling continuous pangs of affection for all my friends. Such beautiful, beautiful people some of them are.

Sometimes I feel so fortunate it feels like a dream. It rained a lot today, and when I got out of my room to go to the mess and have dinner, a huge grin spread over my face. Yes. It was the same powerful gush of wind that blew my hair off my face, the familiar smell of roses, the puddles of water, tiny little chocolate frogs jumping all around me, green leaves, greener than the ones you’d have ever seen, and the familiar, smiling, welcoming faces of some of my closest friends. I literally walked through clouds today. They engulfed me as I walked towards the mess. As I held my umbrella tight. As I smiled at the laughter around me. As I looked at the moon shining down on me. Sometimes it becomes too overwhelming. Too breathtaking. And then you cannot help but just swallow that bubble rising from your chest and up your throat. That painful, lovely feeling you get when you look around you, and you grin like a hopeless baboon. You can’t help but fall in love.

If I could stop time, and expand it, limitlessly, I would. I simply cannot get over the sheer exquisiteness of this place. Life, you astound me. 

Living life inside a bubble

I feel like I’m perched on a cloud. The window is opened strategically enough to let a flow of cool breeze inside my room, and the night light is on. Coldplay and Radiohead keep me company. And a bit of Led Zeppelin. It is so peaceful tonight.

Yesterday I saw another splendid sunset, after long (owing to the fact that there was hardly any sun for a long time). But yesterday, there it was, hiding behind the clouds, in all its glory. I sat on the ledge outside our mess with my legs dangling and watched the clouds moving continuously, and the sky turning pink to orange to purple, and the last few rays of the sun glowing and then dying out. It is always so beautiful.

Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make you happy. A sunset, getting wet in the rain, a cute dimpled smile, a gentle squeeze of the hand, a good meal, a laughing session with friends over tea. And sometimes it feels like nothing in the world can change the way you are feeling. I’ve given up on my emotions, I have just decided to embrace however I’m feeling and make the most of it.

Things move so fast here, it is not even funny. These two months have changed me in so many ways. Being a journalist requires you to be hard-hitting, factual, cynical and probing. But I feel like I cannot help being a dreamer. I enjoy the classes, the events, the rush of performing on the stage, the banal chatter with friends, but at the end of the day, I feel like I am floating through it all. Sometimes I just want to close my eyes and feel the nature around me, without being questioned or judged. It has always been about the little things with me. The seemingly insignificant things that sometimes even change the course of how things turn out. Like standing and looking over the valley and then noticing a lone brown leaf, floating and fighting against the strong breeze, and dancing in the wind till it is finally forced to fly away, far away in the distance.

I went to Mulshi recently with a friend, and the beauty swept me away. We sat with our legs dipped in the lake, we felt the streams of cold water rushing against our toes, we saw the clouds looming over the green hills, we felt the breeze against our faces, and there was nothing but the long winding road in front of us, the waterfalls and the greenery all around. The world is such a wonderful place to live in. How do we not look beyond our daily trivialities? Why don’t we appreciate the beauty around us? How are we trapped in our daily chores, enslaved by routine, upset about marks, assignments not well received, gossip.. how do these things even matter?

Sometimes I feel like feel like I’m a very, very difficult person to deal with. Even I don’t know how my brain functions. I have started questioning things a lot, which might seem unnecessary, but important to me. Gallivanting aimlessly across various links on the internet, I somehow started reading about Sylvia Path. She was a poet and a writer who committed suicide at the age of 20 due to depression. I read some of her quotes, and my god, it was like reading something that I would write. My thoughts resonate so well with hers. Read some of her quotes:

“God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.” 

“I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.” 

“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.” 

“The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.” 

“Is there no way out of the mind?” 

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.” 

“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.” 

“We should meet in another life, we should meet in air,
Me and you.” 

“I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still” 

Tell me you don’t love her?

Sometimes, it doesn’t take much to observe the beauty around us. Sometimes it just takes a friend to notice the cacophony inside your head. Someone, who you know is going to be there, to look out for you, to infect your face with his own smile. And if nothing, at least he is going to hear you out. Or walk with you silently. And that makes all the difference in the world.

We can't return, we can only look behind

I’m so happy today. I’m just so happy. Maybe because Chee shared this article with me and I realized how much it resonated with how I’ve been feeling lately but haven’t been able to put into words. I haven’t even comprehended how much I love the campus and the weather here. I was just existing, floating from hostel to mess and mess to classroom and back to hostel. One month went by in a blur. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that I live on a hill and amidst hills and it’s always breezy and green and rainy.

I’ve been singing ‘The Circle Game’ by Joni Mitchell since evening. Please go and listen to it?

After dinner I spent my time with friends and soaked it in. Took it all in. I want to make the most of my time here. I want to know people. Make friends. Have crazy times. Difficult times. Go out. Travel (especially to Bombay) Write. Laugh. Live. I never realized before today how many possibilities exist now that I’ve moved out of home. I can do anything. Walk wherever I want to, always be surrounded by so many friends, go out and eat with them, take on individual projects with them. Almost anything I want to! I felt so full of life and love today. I felt so alive. And the breeze and the little raindrops added on to the effect. Music was wafting through the air, emanating from different corners of the campus. People were laughing, singing, dancing, bonding. I looked at the campus and at the sky and just felt lucky to be where I am. I love college. Room 221. The trees. The frogs. The constant chatter. The familiar faces. The smiles. The midnight birthday celebrations. The noise in the mess. The cold coffee. Sparks flying in the air. The conversations that flow. The friendships that bloom. Even the bad jokes. And it has all just begun.

I want to be so much more than what I am. 

Over the hills and far away

There is so much to write that I feel like my head is going to explode. My thoughts are fluttering about, all over the place, like twitchy little butterflies, and I’m trying to grab on to one of them, and write something coherent down. It is really difficult when you have an ardent desire to express so many things at the same time. Well, let’s start with the present. Then I’ll move on to the past few days, the past few CRAZY days and then the future :)

I just went into crazy epileptic fits of laughter with my roommate where we literally rolled into two crumpled balls on the floor, clutching our stomachs and wiping off tears. So much so, that we scared our neighbour a little :P Reason? Well one of them is because two hours back we just had strong coffee which I made in my electric kettle (shhh!) and another reason is that we were watching the most hilarious videos in the history of Indian cinema. So yes, you can guess, hello hostel life! :)

Well, I was right in my previous post, it did hit me hard when I left home, it did hit me when I said bye to my family, it did hit me hard when I saw dad walking away on the busy FC road in Pune, and I knew, from then on, I was on my own. Actually, finally on my own. It was a scary and yet an exciting feeling, to know I could make my own little decisions, do my own work, take charge of my own self, be in command when something goes wrong, and just be … free. And then college routine began. Getting up at 7, having a bath, walking to the mess and then to the class on time initially felt like a herculean task. But as time passed on, it started to feel more natural, more regular. We had team building and interactive group exercises for the first five days, which seemed very exhausting when we were doing it, but when I think about them now, they actually helped me in getting to know so many people. It still is a little difficult to take in so many faces and names at the same time. But now I know them. I know their little idiosyncrasies, their habits and talents and likes and dislikes. It already feels like a family, with some people who you go straight to talk to and those who are bound to brighten your day up.

I was waiting for that moment when all the emotions would bubble out on the surface and I will cry. But it didn’t come. And it was scary. It almost came when I got up in the morning on the first day of college and I imagined to myself be in my own room back home. There was no purple wall, no familiar posters or books, but an alien room, with a girl I hardly knew on the adjacent bed. But it just got better. I have a crazy, cleanliness freak for a roommate, which is good for me, because she likes tidying up my mess as well :P She gets up on time and wakes me up, and calls me ‘beta’ sometimes :P We have a very open and candid relationship and it’s great!

About the campus, dear LORD, about the campus. This place is meant exactly for people like me. The SIMC campus is situated on a hill, which overlooks valleys, and the city far away and is surrounded by even more hills. The weather is always pleasant, always breezy, always dreamy. I feel so floaty and poetic all the time. The clouds come down on rainy days and they pass by you, as if saying hello. There is a mystique and an aura to everything around here. It is just so beautiful. The best part? One, is sitting in a corner and watching the sunset. The first time I saw it, I’d never seen such a sight before. The sky turns orange and pink and the clouds float across it as if some sort of celestial creatures travelling back home. And to think I get to see it every day!

The second is the midnight moonlit walks! The breeze is always chilly, and It blows over your face and caresses your skin and you feel so awesome to be alive! It’s the entire feeling of being free, being able to walk around the sprawling, beautiful campus and the feeling of being on your own. The classes couldn’t have been better. I respect this place so much more for the kind of teachers they have and for the kind of workshops we are getting to experience. I will write all about it in a different post because I want to do justice to it. It’s a Saturday, my room mate and I are listening to Owl City and it’s way past the devil’s time! I’m going to come back and talk about specific things about the college in detail. Right now, I’m just going to lie back, look at my ceiling, and cherish this moment. Can you believe that it has just been a little over two weeks since I came here? :) Tomorrow I have a Sunday-full of clothes washing to do, but strangely I feel so good about it! Washing my own clothes is the biggest testimony to the fact that I am in charge of myself. Oh, how I love this place :’)

Some glimpses of the SIMC campus :)

(Hostel view)

(Sunset viewing point)

(Sunset)

(Hostel view again)

Tonight I choose to be sad

For all the relationships gone wrong; for all the misunderstandings; for all the broken promises and the failed friendships; for all the things that were never meant to be. For all the times I should have kept in touch but didn’t, all the times I should have called but didn’t and for all the plans that were never implemented. What idiots we all were. We never realized that things change. We never did think where we would be in the ignorance of being happy little kids. When we walked holding hands and snuck our little MP3 players in our pockets, earplugs in each ear, listening to our favourite songs, and when we lay in bed dreaming about the future and when we promised each other that our kids will marry each other. When we walked like old ladies in school, and skipped down staircases, when we wrote stories in college notebooks, when we made French toasts at night. 

How naïve we all are. Don’t we know things never remain the same? We sang songs and shared tiffin boxes and shared secrets and poured our hearts out to each other. We thought we would always be best friends, sharing each secret and each incident till we become old and wrinkly. We ran towards each other like lost lovers after a war, squealing and jumping. We talked on the phone for hours and plotted and planned and schemed. We made fun of people, and of each other. We laughed till tears spilled out of our eyes. We loved each other. How stupid were we. We should have known.

Times change. People drift apart. Maybe the only thing that changes is you yourself. Or your own perception about things. And it is okay if it is circumstantial. It is okay to let things go, because it is more painful to hold on to them. If it gave you enough warmth and love and joy to help you survive when you thought you could not cope with your life, then it was worth it all. Every relationship I have ever had has been special to me. I can relate to what Celine says in Before Sunset, “I feel I was never able to forget anyone I've been with. Because each person has specific qualities. You can never replace anyone. What is lost is lost.”

I miss the little things about people. I miss insignificant things about them, maybe the way they made a weird sound with their lips or maybe how they squinted in the sun or even the colour of their eyes.

Such silly little children we were when we painted bindis on each other's foreheads and laughed. When we made midnight meals and ate more than we studied. When we got Linkin Park trivia for each other or said that we were soul sisters. Little did we know that relationships are fragile. One slip, and down the rabbit hole they go. So I’m embracing the pain that comes along with losing friends. Morrie said that in order to detach yourself from a feeling, you have to drench yourself with it, dive head in all the way and throw yourself into the emotion instead of holding it back and being afraid of experiencing love or pain or grief. Because once you know you have fully experienced the emotion, you can tell yourself to get away from it. And finally move on.

So this is to all the friends I have ever had. I have never been good at keeping friends but the friends that did matter; I have loved them with all my heart had to give. KK has already put what I'm feeling into a song:


"Chal, sochein kya, choti si hai zindagi.
Kal, mil jaayein, toh hogi khushnaseebi."


So, now, as I move out and go into another world, I would like to express that each one of you were a part of my life. You've all had a role to play and you’ve all shaped me into what I am. I will carry little pieces of you in my heart, recalling only the good times. Times when we were stupid little idiots, without a care in the world. 

P.S. And maybe, just maybe, sit on a sofa again before a Maths exam, staring into space, bobbing our heads to a random song after having eaten a million packets of Blue Lay's.

Gotta love them TV shows!

I ordered another book on Flipkart! :O Gaaaaaaahh, someone needs to close this website down! (Okay, NO! I don’t mean it. It’s the best site ever. Period.) But I’ve ordered so many books in the last few months when I already have so many books lying around that I have to read.. and SO, SO many more which I haven’t even bought! :/ Life is just too short to do all the reading and watching that you have to do. (Yeah right, says me, who falls asleep after 20 pages and never bothers to watch the movies lying eagerly, waiting and hoping for me to watch them) What’s wrong with me?! I’ve become too complacent and laid-back man :/

I used to be a fervent reader. I remember going to my school librarian and requesting her to let me issue more books than what we were allowed to. But they were mostly the new-age popular fantasy or mystery stuff. Now when I want to read all the classics and the other good things, I’ve become… this. Is it because I have other, more convenient things to do? Or maybe because I have lesser time to spare? (Who am I kidding?)

I’m watching Seinfeld these days. I had heard loads about it, but it just doesn’t do it for me. I mean, there are some very good punches and good jokes and everything, but it just doesn’t have what Friends has. Do you know what I mean? When you watch Friends, you instantly fall in love with each and every character and their traits and idiosyncrasies and you can’t help but want more and more of it. But in Seinfeld, it takes time. And then the episodes follow the same pattern, till it becomes to look a little forced and unrealistic. Okay, before all the pro-Seinfeld people jump down my throat, it’s just my opinion. Okay? Relax. I don’t know, maybe I’m too biased towards Friends because I grew up watching it and I’m too attached to it.

I’ve watched Friends twice completely and otherwise I watch it whenever it’s on. You just can’t beat it. Ross’ nerd-ness, Monica’s almost OCD-like fussy attitude, Chandler’s sarcasm, Pheobe’s extreme, utter craziness, Joey’s stupidity and Rachel’s spoilt brat cuteness. It forms the perfect pot pourri, you know? :)

I'm not even going to quote my best dialogues. There are just too, far too many.

Another TV show that comes close to this is The Big Bang Theory. I cannot tell you what Sheldon does to me. He is the most damaged, twisted, disturbed, insensitive, awesome guy I’ve ever come across in any TV show. And generally I’m not a very generous laugher, but I laugh when Shelley’s at his Bazinga best or when he complains about piddling little things about his existence. Oh, how he cracks me up! He deserved the two Emmy awards that he has won. How can anybody not love the guy? He makes life less hard to deal with! I love the makers of these shows. 

The third show on my list would have to be Scrubs. I’m so much like Elliot Reid. Crazy, neurotic, brash, skinny, not in the wee bit graceful, and sometimes I simply don’t think before speaking. And I love Dr. Cox’s sarcasm. He beats Chandler right, left and centre. His dialogues are the most honestly insulting and funny. And sometimes I go into these JD like fantasies, where I imagine entire situations way into the future; with the whole chaos theory playing its part. And of course there Dr. Jan Itor. I love him because he’s Chee’s favoutite too :)

On a completely different note, I’m in love with this song "Half Asleep" by the School of Seven Bells. Go watch it and read the description. It’s beautiful. It's got this ethereal feel to it. And once you listen to it twice, it’s going to fix a permanent position in your mind for the next few days :)

And check out the lyrics:

"What begins as an unguarded train of thoughts,
Slowly can become an addiction to the slumber of disconnection.
The resonance of memory that no longer has a shape,
But keeps you numb through the hours, till gone is another day."


So poetic, right? :) I can relate to them so well!

I have to go do some serious Case study reading for an external International Business Management group discussion in college tomorrow. Yeah, I know it’s midnight, and I haven’t started reading yet. But seriously, don’t you know me already? 

:)

Have a good day! 

Love thyself.

Amongst the innumerable things that I miss about school is one of my History teachers Sister Dorothea. She is an expressive, passionate, awesome lady. Many students used to think of her as a nutbag because she used to come across as too strong and sometimes very strict in an insane sort of way. But I always had this respect for her in my heart. One of the things that she repeatedly used to say out loud with a lot of gusto and voice modulations in class used to be “Man is born selfish from his mother’s womb!” She would say it with such passion and expression that we wouldn’t be able to stop ourselves from giggling or rolling our eyes; but the words are still stuck with me today.

Yes, man is selfish. Each and every one of us is. And it’s not a bad thing; it’s just how we are made. It’s deep-rooted, embedded in our systems. No matter what we do, ultimately, somehow, in some direct or indirect way, we are doing it only for ourselves. “What’s in it for me?” is always our first question. Anything and everything we do, we try to see if we’re any sort of gainers in the whole process. If not, we’re probably not very interested. In love, are you? Well, it’s you you’re more in love with. You only love the person because he/she makes you feel good. You want that feeling, you want that happiness. Loving someone has got to be one of the most selfish things we indulge ourselves in.

Consider people who help the poor people or who give handsome amounts of money to charity. Seems so noble. So honourable. But they are simply doing it because it gives them the contentment, the satisfaction of making someone’s lives a little better. It gives them a kick. For all you know, it gives a similar kind of kick to them that some people get out of gambling.

Osho says that being selfish is simply being yourself. The word has been condemned too much, but actually, it’s a beautiful word. “Don’t consider anybody else in the world, just consider yourself; and in that very consideration, you would have considered the whole world.” You need to love yourself in order to love anybody else. Two people loving each other without having a similar feeling for themselves is similar to two beggars begging from each other.

There was something that our teacher said in our Organizational Behaviour lecture in college which really made me think. While discussing ‘motivation’, and what really motivates someone to help others, she said “Suppose there are two best friends X and Y, who work in different companies and X is desperate to quit her job and join Y’s company, Y would go out of her way to help her best friend, right? Would she do that because she is her best friend? She might think so. But subconsciously, she’s doing it because empowering her best friend will give her a sense of power. She will get the satisfaction of changing her friend’s life. Is will be a purely selfish act.”

Wow. Jerks you back into reality, doesn’t it? Well, I had been fretting over the fact that everyone is self-centred and mean and egoistical, but you know what? It’s really okay. So am I. It’s okay to be looking out for yourselves, to think of benefitting yourself. If everyone is busy doing that, there shouldn’t be anyone to complain about.

So actually, K3G style, it’s all just really about loving yourself. 

"Even death has a heart."

Here is a small fact: You are going to die.

Reading this written in such an offhand way is quite unsettling, isn’t it? Well, maybe death won’t seem so brutal once you read The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. The credit goes to En, for recommending it to me and Chee, for sending it to me, very promptly I should add, as a complete surprise.

What intrigued me the most was when I got to know that the entire story has been narrated by Death. It is set in Nazi Germany, where death was very busy and tired. One line that stuck with me was when death says “I am not violent or malicious. I am just a result.” Wow. That is so profound. Death is what happens to us, after all the bad stuff has already happened. It’s when our soul is finally at peace. Death isn’t evil. It is only a consequence. Most people dread it, but probably every one reaches that stage in life when they wait for it to finally embrace them. Where the soul sits up and welcomes it with a smile. The song "I'll fly away" comes to mind at this point:

"When the shadows of this life have gone, I'll fly away,
Like a bird from it's prison bars has flown, I'll fly away"

I loved how the author shaped the characters. I loved how he exposed the kindness and the brutality humans are capable of. Because that’s what makes them who they are. Humans. It was beautiful how he played with words, and shuffled between the past, present and the future. It’s like he put them onto a gargantuan palette and mingled and mixed all the colours together, to bring to life an enthralling picture on the canvas, made of contrasting hues. Red with yellow. Black with white.

I wish I could write like that. I hope to, some day. Writing that would move someone to tears. Mixing beauty and destruction together with tragedy and love. 

“I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”

-Liesel Meminger.

My number one girl.

"Childhood is measured by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows."

It was a time of Dexter’s laboratory and Falguni Pathak songs on TV. It was a time of going to school half sleeping in the auto and fighting about who will have the remote control while coming back. It was a time of buying the coolest school bags and raincoats. Of stitching Barbie doll dresses and drawing our favourite cartoon characters on greeting cards. It was a time of Enid Blyton novels and saving pocket money to buy ice-cream from the Madhu ice-cream vendor every evening. Of hiding in cardboard cartons for hours and BOO-ing at passers-by, and buying the perfect pichkaaris for Holi. It was a time of hide-and-seek, Coat piece, Business King, Contra, killing Shredder in the Ninja turtles, watching BBQ, Dragon Ball Z, The Bold and The Beautiful, and Baywatch. Where did those days go?

She was my first friend when I was growing up. She came to my rescue when I was bullied by fat girls in school and she was always there when I needed money for ice cream. She took me back to my class safely when I went to her class bawling because I thought that my entire class had ‘disappeared’. She submitted all my leave applications to the Principal’s office because I was too scared to do it myself, and she always gave a call home when I forgot to get my bag to school. She helped me mug up the paryaayvaachi shabd before my Hindi exam and she always decorated and wrote the headings for all my school projects in attractive italics. She screamed at me whenever I was stupid, and as we all know, she has a very low tolerance level for stupidity. She covered up for me when I got low marks and she always introduced me to her friends. Trotting behind her hurriedly as we walked inside the school gates, and always, always looking back once more and waving that one extra ‘bye’ before we went to our respective buildings had become almost essential. I would feel so happy whenever I saw her with her big group of friends in school. I would show her off to all my friends. “You see her? Yes, that’s my didi.” I still remember what she looked like back then. Tall, slightly buck-toothed, silent, composed; wearing round golden earrings and a red ribbon in her high ponytail.

I hated her as we grew up. She was mean and she yelled at me a little too often. She said the most spiteful things and we fought almost every day. I was not exactly an angel myself; probably was a shrilly, irritating little tattletale. We usually had physical brawls, which pretty much ended the same way. With me wailing at the top of my lungs till I got the satisfaction of mom scolding her, and she passing rude, nasty comments to me for the next few days. I still remember how once she dug her nails into my skin and I showed the marks to everyone for the next week. Worse, once she was running after me to give me a good beating, and I closed the door on her face; resulting into a small injury in her eyebrow. That small little gap is still there, and will always be there, reminding her of our unpleasant childhood scuffles :)

We bonded when I matured a little. She told me about her secrets and I told her about my crushes. I began to like her for who she was as a person and even wrote this in her slam book once “Please don’t be cutta with me for whatever I say because I’ll always be sorry.” :P She continued to roar and growl at me on a regular basis, but we really grew on each other. She introduced me to Enigma, Britney, Shakira, Enrique, Westlife, BSB and I spent hours writing all the lyrics down so that we’d be able to sing them together. (She was really bad at learning lyrics. Still is) She wouldn't start studying before killing all the mosquitoes mercilessly and she hated everyone when it was too hot. She read all my childhood stories infested with grammatical and spelling mistakes with a lot of enthusiasm and always encouraged me to write further. She always had that one last bite of Maggi from my plate even though she knew how much I hated it :)

She fought with me when I made the biggest blunders of my life. I never realized then, but now I do. I should have listened to her then. I wish we hadn’t drifted apart for all those months, until it was too late. Until she was gone for MBA. Better late than never though, I have finally realized it. She was only looking out for me. And her way of showing that she cares is not being an overly affectionate big sister, but being a hard, strong teacher.

My didi, who always picked my clothes out for me when we shopped, and showed me how to colour inside the lines, and who hugged me tightly whenever she heard me crying softly in bed, and who always gets me the most wonderful gifts every time she meets me, is getting married. Yes, you heard me. That girl, who I have seen grow up before my eyes. The girl who had major temper issues, who had terrifying arguments with mom and dad. The headstrong girl, with a lot of dreams inside her, has finally become an independent, fully grown-up woman.

I cannot believe she is getting married. Married?! Where did those days go? Those never-ending laughing sessions. The studying together during exams, and her sending me off to make tea and then asking me to wake her up after half an hour. The long, long, conversations that would outgrow the night and we would be in splits on the floor. The times I missed her when she stayed in her locked room, talking on the phone. The times when I was jealous and proud of her at the same time. The times when she woke me up by trying out something innovative each morning and the hysterical laughing sessions looking at each other’s ponytails in the morning. The naming all our toys and throwing parties to celebrate their birthdays. Cycling in our lane, skating on our porch, going out for Big Bun's burgers, MKOP's truffle, Bhagat's bhalla...

Where did the carefree pasta-making, movies-watching, song-singing, dancing-for-no-reason days go? It seems like only yesterday when she would hold my hand and take me to summer hobby classes and swimming lessons.

Though we are completely different people in every way, I still smile when people say we look like twins, or when they point out that the way we speak and laugh is similar. She has always been my strength. She has always, always been there. She listened to me when I called her up crying in the middle of the night during my existential crisis phases. And she always rolled her eyes when I told her how and why my life couldn't be better.

Didoo, I know after reading this post you are probably going to say “Nautanki!” but I really, really want you to know. I love you. And I’m sorry if I’ve never been appreciative enough, if I’ve never made it clear. You know what an idiotic emotional wimp I am. Our conversation in Baroda made me realize you cared about me as much as I cared about you. It’s just that you are not that expressive enough. But I have always loved you. How could I not? You were always there, supporting me, providing me a cushion that I could always fall back upon. And being a witness and a partner to all my craziness.

You actually are getting married. (Good lord!) I’m so happy you’re marrying someone you love and someone who loves you back. I hope you have an amazing life ahead. I hope you get what you’ve always dreamed of. I know all about them :) You’re my number one inspiration, my number one best friend and one of my most favourite people in the world. You’re my number one girl.

Come soon so I can see you make that typical expression of yours that I know you’re making right now :)

P.S. You know what? You’re going to be a bride :O :)

(Didoo and me, 1994)

(Didoo and me, 2011)

How is your life today?

Beautiful people of the world! :D

Guess what happened today? I received my first ever Blog award! It’s given to me by Jen, a recent follower and a fellow blogger! I’ve read only a few of your posts Jen, but I loved them! :) Thank you! You’re a peach! :D

The timing couldn’t have been better! This is my 100^th post! Weeeeeeeeee! Bloggie hits a century!! I can’t believe it! Have I really written a hundred blog posts? Seems huge! I love blogging so much I’m almost addicted to it now. I’m not complaining! Sniff :’) It’s a big moment for me and my blog. Two great things happened on the same day!

I.. I would like to thank my mom, dad, sister, teachers, friends, fellow bloggers MYSELF! Muhaahahahahaa! 

Anyway, the rules of receiving an award are:

• Link back to the person who gave you the award.       
• Pick 5 people deserving of the award and notify them on their blogs.      
• Post the award on your blog and spread the love.

And the five people I’m going to pick who deserve this award are:

1.      Em and En dying to say (Because she was one of my first few followers and I love and adore her blog with all my heart. Also, because I got to know her and meet her through her blog)

2.       Why is everything four? by Karishma (Because she’s currently my favourite new blogger. She’s a beautiful, beautiful writer and somewhere I feel like she’s the kind of girl I would fall for if she was a guy. Right, enjoy the ego boost! :P)

3.      InsomniaStrikes by PurpleMist (Because I love the colour and because she reminds me of myself in a lot of ways)

4.     Muse-ment  by Tangerine (Because her blog is fun and vibrant and just the right amount of cool)

5.    Living is a one-way street! by Sakshi (Because she’s my sishtooo! And because she writes so well. And because her blog needs to be updated! Please do NOT delete it!)

Phew, there! I feel so good spreading all this lourrve :D

I’ve realized that you constantly have to push yourself to happiness. There is so much to life. You cannot stay unhappy. You can’t.

And when you start going down that way, remember this “If you want to be happy, be." – Leo Tolstoy. Isn’t it amazing? Doesn’t it put a smile to your face instantly? :)

And if even this doesn’t help, go and listen to this! I've been singing it all day (And boy, I sound good :P)

I dare you to be upset after this.

And if you're still upset, go see a shrink wouldja?!

P.S. Thank you again Jen! :D

*I received an awaaaaaaaard*
 *doing the hula* :D