Withdrawal symptoms

I get extremely agitated and tensed when I don't write for so long. So much happens in a span of a few days that to think of how to bring the words out succinctly is perplexing. I shall try.

*breathes deeply*

Out of the big lists of things that have happened, it is safe to say that the most significant of them is the fact that I now have a job. On the day of my last exam, I had three job offers in my hand. And only a couple of days ago, I had none. Funny how life works out sometimes. Just when I had accepted that it is highly likely that I might have to go home unemployed, something clicked. But I applied somewhere at the right place at the right time. So now, Bangalore it is. I'm excited and nervous. I'm exervous. I really like the city, my friends will also be there, I think I will enjoy my work. The thing I'm most looking forward to is managing my own finances. Finally, I'll be earning. No more a parasite. I would be producing, instead of consuming. I'm employed! :)

The first thing I felt after I received the call was.. relief. Not joy, not excitement. I just sighed and sat limp for a while at the thought that I would not have to give any more interviews. No more people sitting across me and judging me. It is time for me to really give everything I have. Just be good at something. To do something. Have an identity.

I'm not sure I'm handling it very well, though. The suddenness of this. Sure, I have a job. Is it really such a big achievement? To be honest, I'm quite terrified of what lies ahead. What if I don't perform well? What if I don't enjoy my work? What if I don't get along with the people? Plus, I'm going to the city alone. Looking for a place on my own. This time, it is permanent. This time, I cannot be unhappy. I have to mould myself in order to enjoy what I have.

One of the questions the interviewer asked me was, "If you were an animal, which one would you be, and why?" He gave me no time to think, and for some reason I could only picture giraffes. I think I thought of them because they are so tall and slender, and well I have extremely long limbs. But to him, I had to give a substantive answer, so I said, "Because they have the advantage of reaching the inaccessible juicy leaves on the tall trees. Oh, and they can run free and wild on the grassy plains." And I had a faraway expression and a stupid grin on my face while I said that. (Inside my head I was shrieking at myself, "What?! Juicy leaves?! Grassy plains?! What did you just say to him? Be professional! Sound intelligent! You've blown it, blown it I say!") Thankfully, he just laughed and let it be. I think I'm always going to remember this. Giraffe. Sheesh :P

The other significant thing that happened and broke my heart to smithereens was that college got over. Completely. I felt it dawning over me when I had my last lunch in the mess, when I packed my bags till they looked like they were swollen and overflowing, when mom and dad came to wrap everything up and take me back home. My mom loved my campus. We sat together, tea cups in hand, watching the sunset. Dad said, "So your last sunset, eh?" And I swear I welled up. The hills contain too many, just too many memories.

People always complained while we were there. 'Oh it's so far away from civilization.' 'I hate coming back before 11.' There's nothing to do here.' 'It's so boring.' 'The mess food is so bad.' Many of them were happy to get rid of the place. I never understood them. How can you not love a place so beautiful? A campus so pretty with such good infrastructure? A nice, clean, comfortable hostel with a gorgeous view? One of my professors told me that we all take this place for granted and don't appreciate it for what it is. I told him that I did not. I felt lucky every day I was there. I would give up anything to be in a place with such natural beauty, than live in a concrete jungle full of honking cars and imposing buildings. I tried to soak it all in, because I knew I would not get two whole languorous years on such a picturesque campus.

It is a scientific fact that our brain has a habit of phasing out all the bad memories and retaining the good ones, and that is why when we look back on our childhood, we remember it fondly as if it was the best time ever. It probably was, but the point is, the more time passes, events seem grander than they were in our heads. I was probably miserable when I was eight, seeing as I hated school and fought furiously with my sister and brother and always had problems with math. But now when I think about it, I would give up everything up to be 8 again.

When it comes to my college life at Lavale, it was already so grand while it was happening. I don't need time to pass to look back at it and think of how wonderful the time was. I felt that when it was happening. I was so aware of it. It was Unagi. When I was running back to the hostel on a rainy day after class, half-drenched and laughing, I felt it. When I sipped hot coffee on a chilly night with my friends, felt the breeze blowing my hair back, and gazed at the sky which was always, always so amazingly clear, I felt it. When I sat in class and we laughed together at a joke our professor made, I felt it. When we all danced to a stupid Bollywood song at one of our go-to place for drinks, I felt it. I felt it in all those small moments. I felt thankful. I knew I was living one of the best, most amazing, most exciting years of my life. I can only wonder how grander they would appear when I am 50 and I think about them then.

I knew I was going through withdrawal symptoms when I woke up in the morning and it took me a couple of minutes to realize that I am not in my hostel room. I didn't see the pink curtains, with the shadows of the leaves dancing on it. I was in a room where I couldn't hear the chatter and laughter of the students at PMC. It took me a while to get out of bed.

I'm listening to a song called 'Daydreaming' by Dark Dark Dark which makes me think of it all the more. You will understand if you were a student on our campus.

"Oh now look to the east, great mountains remember me,
It's land I can see for miles, with only the wind whispering,
And oh if you knew what it meant to me,
You would see it too."

(One evening on the terrace)

(On the way to class)

(View from the hostel terrace)

(Depression point)

(View from the amphitheater)

(My room. And fairy lights)

(View from the football field at sunset)

(One beautiful, foggy evening)

I'll miss college terribly. I can't believe I won't go back to my room, meet Possum and break into our renditions of all the silly songs we sing. I can't believe I won't greet all my friends with warm hugs, high-fives and discuss our vacations. I can't believe I won't have the view. Oh, the view.

I had decided that after I write a post about it, I might get some closure. Then I will not look at my college life with woeful reminiscence, but a surreal satisfaction of living it. I was there. I lived it. It's time to look ahead. It's going to be frightening and maddening at times. But now I will be an adult in the truest sense of the word. I finally control the steering wheel of this car called life. And I can't wait.

Goodbye Lavale. You were incredible.

For the love of fictional characters

Why is the first step so difficult? The first massive, colossal, leap you have to make, to get over the inertia and just start writing. Or is it inertia? Maybe it’s fear. Sometimes when I read a good book, I feel inspired to write but I’m afraid that I can’t ever write that well. I want sentences to just flow beautifully from my fingertips and onto the keyboard, but I always feel that I won’t be good enough.

Why can’t I just use mellifluous words that are just sitting right there in my head? Why can’t I weave beautiful stories without ever doubting my work? Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” So, there. 

I wanted to write about some of the movies I’ve watched recently. The latest one amongst them is Ruby Sparks. It’s a story about a boy who writes down a character and falls in love with it and she comes to life. A quirky, complicated girl with whom he shares a wonderful relationship. But when things start to go wrong between them, he tries to tweak her by writing more about her. Fascinating, right? I mean, what would it be like to whip up someone like that? Someone you think would be perfect for you? For instance, I know exactly the kind of guy one of my friends would like to be in a relationship with. Tall, lanky, bespectacled, crooked teeth, perfect nose, singer, drummer, football player, socially awkward, sarcastic, smart. How would it work in real life though, I wonder.

One of the best movies that I’ve seen in a long time though, is Her. What an irresistibly beautiful movie. It makes so much sense in the technologically advanced world we are living in. Imagine having that one socially aware operating system who is also our best friend, who we can call and have an intelligent discussion with, who we can ask anything about anything in the world. It only gets messy when emotions get in the way. God, emotions can be so detrimental to everyone, to society. Why are we such a backward species? We kill each other, we are greedy and malicious and do unspeakable things to our own kin. And what is up with all the diseases and sickness and the slow, painful deaths?  Why is the whole process of reproduction so outrageously risky and disgusting? We should have been more evolved, resistant, logical and advanced organisms. I should have been born a billion years later. Anyway, I digress. The point being, the movie is fantastic.

Another movie to watch out for is The Ship of Theseus (Fair warning: This movie is not, I repeat, NOT about a ship) It’s one of the most brilliant masterpieces any Indian movie maker has created. And that too, a movie maker who once wrote dialogues for Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi and Kahaani Ghar Ghar Ki. Until one day, he realized how pathetic his job really was and devoted himself to making god amazing movies. Anand Gandhi used Theseus’s paradox as the base of the film which questions whether an object which has had all of its components removed and replaced remains the same object. There are four stories, each beautifully constructed and woven together to form a brilliant tapestry in the end. It’s deep, you need patience and the eye for little things to fully enjoy this movie. Some of the discussions in it made me pause it and think over it. It is really something. I am so glad India is going through this sort of movie renaissance where there is this whole new parallel cinema running alongside the mainstream crap, which is coming out which such good movies. There is Vikramaditya Motwane, Anurag Kashyap, Anand Gandhi, Ritesh Batra, Kiran Rao and so many others, trying to prove what movie watching is all about. Just go through this list once. Exciting, isn't it?

Next, I watched Frozen. Sure, it’s a beautiful, funny, very well-made Disney movie. But I don’t get the hype about the two main characters being female and how it is a feminist movie. I mean, Anne was stupid and clumsy. She fell in love with a guy who she met for a few hours, decided to marry him, offended her sister and then ran away onto snow-covered mountains to get her atop a horse? Then she had to ask another guy for help. Elsa on the other hand, somehow really irritated the way she handled her problems. Okay, if you are not convinced, please read this article. I do give this movie a big thumbs up for being funny, beautiful, entertaining and engaging. Just let’s not discuss the feminism aspects of it.

Okay, I really need not say anything about the next movie. You’ve seen it, you’ve loved it and you’re rooting for Leonardo Di’Caprio to win the Oscar with all your heart. The Wolf of Wall Street. I loved DiCaprio hated him at the same time in the movie. I loved his drool phase and his cerebral palsy phase. Sheer, sheer magnanimity.

Last on my list is Don Jon, a movie about a guy addicted to porn. I had a few problems with this movie as well. The entire purpose of this movie, actor and director Joseph Gordon Levitt claims to make is to show how porn makes us have unrealistic expectations with  with our sex lives. But the movie somehow seemed to do the opposite. It reinforces the fact that girls are not hot enough, guys have to do all the work, and sex is never as good as the porn. He sort of used sex to sell the movies. Opinions are solely my own, however.

Ooh, I’m also watching Grey’s Anatomy, which is a good show. But if you’ve been a loyal Scrubs fan, you will not like it much. The concept is the same, the characters are somewhat similar, in the end everything resolves, and the narrator has an epiphany, which all of us can relate to. Scrubs is funnier, but I guess Grey's Anatomy is more popular. Oh, and the doctors look like supermodels who somehow always have perfectly blow-dried hair and lip gloss on. But it’s a good show to watch when you are not getting any sleep at night. 

Well, that’s that. I have more movies to watch on my hard disk and I cannot wait to start gorging on them. But I have this big submission on Tuesday and I JUST CAN’T SEEM TO GET DOWN AT IT. Tomorrow, fo shizzle. It's deliciously chilly up on these hills and the weather can't get any better. A few things are stagnant but I hope they will pick up soon. I shall be back.

See you soon!

The hills

Every day slips by only too quickly and I can’t help but think how fast it is approaching. The end. Of college. Of student life. Of living on this hill. I wish I had one more semester. One more semester to do so many things we do not have the time to do now. One more semester to go out to the city and eat at all the places we had favourited on Zomato. One more semester to set things right with some people. One more semester to become better friends with friends, and to get to know more people we could never really get to know.

How do I sum everything up I have seen, felt and experienced on this hill? How are you supposed to do something like that? It’s like trying to fit an elephant through the eye of a needle. How do I share what I felt when I woke up every day and just gazed in amazement at the view outside? How do I share what those long walks with friends around the campus under the moonlight meant? How do I describe the infinite cups of tea I’ve shared with my favourite people looking at the sunset? Sitting at the iconic tea-point and imitating everyone, those inside jokes, the times when somebody’s chappal would fall in the drain and one of us would have to jump down and rescue it. How do I express what I felt every time I would sit in class and it would start to pour outside? How I would itch to go outside and get soaked to the bone?

How do I describe those flashes of memories that fly before me so quick no editing software in the world would ever come close to the video that plays in my head? Those enormous clouds gliding past on those rainy days. The droplets slithering down the colourful umbrellas. The rings left on the mess table. The brown leaves falling on the road leading down to the mess. The screech of the bus tyres. The cacophony after winning a match. The twinkling fairy lights in the room. Pink Floyd. The warmth flooding through me when I would see my friends after months. The long hugs. Waiting at PMC. Running to the store to buy snacks for the night before it closes. Hot cups of coffee after dinner. Making plans of going to SS. Running to the terrace with the desperation of doing something spontaneous. Making plans. Oh, so many plans.

How do I write it all out? How it would crush me to remove the bulletin board we stuck on our walls with so much love? How will I get used to not sleeping next to a person as crazy as me who gets up squealing and screaming and laughing? What better way to start your day? The uncountable shoes under her bed. Her table so messy you wouldn’t know how she keeps a track of anything. Her laundry basket always overflowing with clothes. The sound her keyboard makes when she types away furiously. Her cookie monster face. Her horrifyingly loud and physically painful laughter. Her telling me “I ate three of your cookies in the morning but I replaced them today evening.” The one who understands exactly what I’m feeling because more often than not, she feels the exact same way. Who quivers her lips when I tell her we might not need another hand wash. Who cries when I read out my old emails I had sent to my best friend. How do I express what I feel when I think one day we would pack our bags together and will not live in room 445 anymore? How do I tell her how this time round, it will be me staining my pillow, for she will be gone and I would be missing her just too much.

How do I talk about the boy who sat next to me every day? He made me jam and butter sandwiches when I missed breakfast. He marked my proxies in class. He understood when I was hungry or sad even before I knew it myself. He sang old Hindi songs with me, he made me laugh and he made me cry. He hurt me more than anyone else here, but he loved me so much more than that. He sent me hilarious audio clips in the morning to wake me up for class. He sent me chocolates, he got me books, he encouraged me, he made me feel I am worth so much more than what I get. We would sit by the benches next to the basketball court and gaze up in amazement at how clear the skies were. He would invariably tell me “You see that? That’s the Orion belt. And that’s Ursa Minor.” And I would say “Wow”, even thought I knew that already. I would let him explain the constellations to me, because then, his eyes twinkled brighter than the stars.  How do I say what it would be to not talk to him at the end of every single day?

How do I describe what those Whatsapp group conversations mean? Asking about the next lunch/dinner, discussing assignments, events, classes or people. That incessant chatter will one day end. I am afraid it would reach a point where none of us would have anything in common to discuss. I am even more afraid that one by one, each of us would leave the group and get lost in our respective jobs, dashing about concrete jungles and trying to make sense of the brand new chapter in each of our lives.

How do I explain how much I love my room? How inviting the bed is after a class ends and you stumble inside the room, drained out of energy. How fresh it looks when it is bathed in the sunlight entering through the window? How do I write what seeing familiar tables in the mess felt? Those times when you would stand till 11:59 outside the hostel gate, talking to everyone because it was just so much fun to be with all your best friends? How it felt when the cool breeze blew the hair away from our faces, and we ran around, high on friendship and on love.

What do I do with the endless photos I have gathered in my phone? The unusual uniqueness of every relationship I share with each of my friends. So different, so comfortable. How I know each one of them so well. Maybe too well. Which makes me love them and hate them at the same time.

When you live on a residential campus, your friends are your family. And I have found my family here. These hills, silently observing our every move, knowing what takes place in dark, obscure spots of the campus, enveloping us in their misty, majestic presence. They know us. It is oddly pleasing to look at the sprawling city spread out before you like a game of Monopoly. The shimmering city lights in the distance remind you that when you gain enough perspective, your problems do not seem as gigantic as you make them in your head. Right now, I feel that there is so much more to life than your career. Than your placement. Than your CGPA. That’s not what we will remember. What we will remember are the nights we were crazy enough to stay awake and go for breakfast even before the mess opened. What we will remember are those times we stayed up at night talking, realizing how we all have the same doubts in life, how we are all in this together. We are all in the same boat. We are a family.  

I wanted to do this for quite some time. Just sit in front of my laptop without thinking and let the words spill out, like smoke billowing out of a chimney in haphazard patterns. There is so much more to this place than what meets the eye. It teaches you life lessons which probably no other place would teach. It compels you to bond with the people around you, to keep you sane. It teaches you that there is more to life than holding grudges against each other, or to wallow in grief if you miss out on an opportunity. Much like the roads here, life here has been full of ups and downs. And my heart refuses to believe that it is going to end. How would it be to not have to worry about missing class every morning? How would it be to never have to write an exam again? How would it be to not stay up all night and sleep the next day away? How would it be to not see the deep orange sky and the silhouettes of the guys playing football every evening? What would life be? Where would I be? Where would we all be?

We would all probably be struggling with our newfound freedom and all the challenges that come with it. But I am certain that we would never forget our experiences on these amazing, throbbing, gleaming, heartbreaking hills. The hills that have witnessed thousands of students come here, go through the same experiences every 20-year-old something would go through, and then leave with a heavy heart. They have watched them leave year after year, knowing that they will never be the same again. 

A Hazy Shade of Winter

Sometimes there is so much happening around you that you are afraid to write about it because it is so overwhelming. You are trying to avoid thinking about some things and writing about them reaffirms all your fears and insecurities. But then writing also helps clear your head, and gives you the chance to channelize your thoughts coherently. That is why I just decided to write today. It helps you move on.

I realized something. I was a spoilt little kid when I was growing up. I’ve been reading about the middle-child psychological traits, and most of us are attention seekers since we feel neglected during childhood. Everything the first child does is special and new and amazing, and when the second child does it, they go like “Yeah, so well what’s new?” So ever since I can remember, I’ve been a noisy little kid. My mom always says I'm so stubborn I always get what I want somehow. When I was about five, we were out shopping for my birthday and I wanted an expensive Mickey Mouse soft toy. Mom got me a Teddy bear instead. I cried and threw a tantrum. I didn't play with the bear, only cried for Mickey Mouse. Dad took me to the shop and got it for me. That thing was my life. I carried it everywhere, fed it, slept with it, even took it to the doctor, for his check up. The doctor still remembers the way I told him, "Doctor, iske batooke mein sui laga do." (Give him an injection in his butt)

A similar instance is about a fight I had with my mom over a frilly frock for my birthday party. I wanted a pink frock with a bloomer that had silver dots on it. She wanted to buy me a yellow one with NO dots on the bloomer. My mom did not get me that, and I was sore for the next few days. Another time. My brother decapitated my Barbie doll and I cried so much, dad had to go out and get the same one for me. I've always been pampered. My parents always got me what I wanted. And if they didn't, I knew if I make a lot of noise, they would. Maybe they were overcompensating for unknowingly neglecting me. Who knows? I guess I always felt that if you really want something bad enough, you’ll get it. Somehow or the other, I never had to face rejection or be desperate for anything. To pine for something. I pine for something today. A couple of things actually.

I did not get placed in the company I was vying for. My best friends got the same job. I wanted it. I really wanted it. After crying about it for two days, I finally let the most clichéd phrases people have been telling me, sink inside me. “There is something better in store.” “Maybe life has another plan.” “Maybe this job wasn’t for you.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It’s one rejection. One interview gone bad. But it HURTS. I really wanted it. So now I’m applying anywhere I can, not really keeping my expectations high. People say it builds character. Well, I’ve built a hell of a lot of character in the past few days then.

Why is it so difficult for me to let things go? People, relationships, opportunities, mistakes, memories. I cling on to everything, every smidgen of everything, till the very last thread breaks and I have no choice but to move on.

In other, happier news, I watched the first two seasons of Black Mirror. Waiting for the third season to come out. Wow. What a show. I’ve always had this theory that too much of digitalization and social networking and gadgets are going to turn us into these monogamous zombies who do not have any idea what the real, simple things in life are all about. And it has already happened. Well, Black Mirror takes it to a whole new level. In one episode, a woman loses her fiancé in a car accident and a friend suggests a software to her in order to cope with her grief. Now this software uses all of his tweets, status updates, emails, chat histories, photos, videos and all other information available online to create a virtual him. Freaky, right? She could chat with him, even talk to him on the phone. He talked exactly like him, but he DIDN’T EVEN EXIST. You know what? Let me not spoilt it for you. Please watch it!

Also, I’m watching The Office all over again. Oh god, I still laugh at all of Jim’s pranks, and when Michel goes berserk over a stupid reason and when Pam and Jim kiss for the first time. It’s like reliving graduation days again. What a time it was.

College is awesome. This is the last sem, so very few classes, a lot of free time to spend with friends, and SLEEP and do movie marathons late into the night. We had a DJ night yesterday in college, and we all lost our minds dancing. I hit so many people in the maddening crowd, and I tripped on a wire and my muscles are aching now, but it was so worth it. And guess what? My dissertation topic is on Breaking Bad: the emergence of the anti-hero as the hero. How cool is that?

The only looming tension on our heads right now is placements. It seems as if that’s what everyone is always talking about. I am tired of people asking me about it. Whenever someone gets placed, there’s a lot of congratulations and happiness, but there is also panic. It’s like we are all in the ocean, grappling in the icy cold water, waiting for our lifeboats. As soon as a person gets a boat, we feel happy they’ll live, but we fear our own safety. We look into the distance, hoping and waiting for it to come. And I know it will. It’s just that the wait is distressing.

I’m trying to be positive now. Being with people, trying to absorb all the good things about college life, and shun out the bad ones. The weather is perfect, the right amount of chilly and yet warm enough for me to crush the crunchy leaves on my way to class. The skies are clearer than ever before, and the sunsets are as beautiful, as they always are in Lavale. Chai time everyday is what I look forward to. They have opened up a couple of eating joints down the hill, and they have started giving this divine strawberry milkshake at the Coffee Stop. Possum, as usual, is awesome. We have the most hilarious, most crazy times in the room and I don’t care about the fact that people have officially declared us insane even one bit. I’m glad we are lunatics. I wish she was my roommate last year too. Oh well, it all ended well. All in all, can't complain. So, last two months. Sigh, never thought this day would come so soon. Pune, before I leave, I’m going to soak you up like a sponge. Just you wait.

Arrivederci, Mumbai

Two days back I was going to Thane in a local train and a long distance train was running on top speed on a parallel track a little distance away. That’s when I saw them. Two boys emerged out of an opening in the engine and started to walk on the roof of the train. I couldn’t believe it. They were laughing, thrilled by the risk involved in what they were doing. One of the boys moved ahead and sat at the very edge of the train with his legs dangling, and the other one followed and sat behind him. They were screaming in utter abandonment, their hair and tee-shirts fluttering crazily in the wind. Their arms were raised in the air, and it reminded me of DiCaprio in Titanic. They were clutching each other, looking ahead and just laughing.

I could not stop looking at them. How happy they looked. How close they seemed. I so wished I had my camera at that moment. It just brightened my day. And when I saw them, I was listening to The Shins, and the image went so well with the song I was listening to (New Slang). It is funny how we can just forget all our problems and worries in the sheer happiness of moments like that one.

Today is my last day in Mumbai. I have mixed feelings. I can’t wait to sleep on my bed (which is not prone to breaking after every few days) and feel my soft pillow under my head. I can’t wait to eat all the home food, and meet my family. But I know I will miss this place. It has been a bittersweet experience. More like a saccharine sweet and a tangy sour type, actually. Some days have been unbelievably good, and some days have been the worst ever. The past two days I have just been shopping. Linking road, Hill road, Colaba Causeway, Fashion Street. Chattu and I went to Gokul last night. And there, just sitting there with him, talking about ‘work’ and stuff, I felt so grown up. I could not stop smiling. I can officially live on my own now. I don’t need anyone else. I have proved that to myself, at least. The only thing I need now, is to start earning. I cannot wait for that to happen. Having my own money to spend, on myself, and everyone I love. That’s precious.

But now I am thinking about all the things I will miss. I am going to miss the announcements on the railway stations “Overhead wires panchees hazaar volt te pravahita hai. Gaadi cha tapavan nu jaan leva ho shakte. Kripya gaadicha tapavan nu pravaas karu ne.” (Okay, I don’t know Marathi so pardon me if I got that wrong.) And I will miss the surge of relief I felt every day once the train would reach Dadar and most of the people would get out. Which reminds me, I bought a tee-shirt from Colaba which says, “Darr ke aage jeet hai, Dadar ke aage seat hai!” :D

I’m going to miss the clawing, screaming, pushing aunties who were ready to stampede their way in the trains all the time. Okay, I won’t miss them all that much. But I will miss the innate Mumbai-ness of the places. The Victorian architecture in South Bombay, people living in orange tin boxes, the pretty churches in Bandra and Christmas decorations everywhere, the salty smell at Nariman point, the hustle bustle at CST, the little trinkets people sold in the locals.

Right now, sitting in my empty apartment, I am realizing how lonely one can feel in this city when you don’t have to run about all the time and do not have friends to keep you company. The loneliness can be haunting. I’m going home tomorrow, but I am taking a huge part of Mumbai with me, and leaving an even bigger part here. A part of me at Andheri station, a part of me at the Mc. Donald’s besides it. A little part of me at Marine drive. A little part of me in this flat. And a very special part sitting on a roadside pavement talking about parallel universes in front of Bombay Blues.

It has been one of the most challenging, and ergo, one of the most satisfying experiences in my life so far. I am looking forward to home. Looking forward to the winter chill and fog. Looking forward to the new year. Bring it on, 2014 :)

This is my December

This is my time of the year. I still happen to like that song, by the way.

Guess what? Music can really soothe your soul. Fleet Foxes, Imagine Dragons, Coldplay, Porcupine Tree. Ahhh :) And what is better is to put earphones on and not care how you sound caterwauling :D 
I went on a sort of movie-watching rampage after my internship got over. I finished reading the Hunger Games part one in a day and watched the movie at night. Can’t wait to read the next two parts. I guess I will always be a sucker for fantasy fiction. Then I watched Half Nelson. Man, Gosling, he never fails to amaze me. Watched Annie Hall next. How come I had never watched his movie to the finish? What a movie. So progressive. I’m a fan of Woody Allen. I really liked when he said “I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. The horrible are like terminal cases, blind people, crippled. I don’t know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful you are miserable. Because that's very lucky, to be miserable.” Haha, what a man! Then I watched Lolita. I couldn’t read the book completely because I thought Humbert Humbert is really sick. But the movie was good. Especially the man who played Quilty. Very nice. And then I watched Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story. I had no idea how these big corporations had sucked the blood of the lower and the middle classes. You should really watch his movies. He’s a crazy genius.

In other news, I cannot believe my internship is over! In hindsight, it seems as if it flew by, but it was really crawling when I was counting the days. There was a point when I was utterly demotivated to work because all my efforts were not bearing any fruit. And it was a bitter, bitter pill to swallow. To work on a story all day and not seeing it in the paper because there were better or more important stories. It is a feeling every reporter goes through, and it can really deflate you like a balloon.

But then my sister reminded me of something my granddad used to tell us, “Karm kar, phal ki chinta mat kar.” Roughly translated, it means “Do your work, and do not think of the outcome.” And then my mom told me the same thing. It doesn’t matter that my stories are not coming out, I should not take life so seriously. Plus, the entire process of doing the stories itself has taught me so much. This has been probably the best internship I could have had. Worked in a healthy environment, got some good work to do, met some really nice people, got to travel all over the city. Seriously, I was not even expecting so many experiences packed in under two months. I have seen the dark side of Mumbai. The underbelly. The dirt and grime. Not to mention, a lot of crime. (That rhymes!) I have walked in lanes so narrow I felt they would cave in on me. I have smelled places so bad I felt I would faint. I have witnessed various cultures, people and lifestyles all in one city. And the biggest achievement, the oh so many lunches I had alone. I have always hated eating alone. But now, I think I can eat in a roadside restaurant without being self conscious. When hunger takes over, comfort takes a backseat.

Also, I always start smiling to myself now when I look at policemen. I’ll always have a special invisible bond with them, no matter where I go. I have met some interesting ones, some really good ones, and some really oh-my-god-will-he-ever-talk-sense type, but I’d have to say one thing. The Mumbai police force is good. I’ve seen cases being cracked in a day. Some impossible crimes being solved with the most ingenious methods. Then you should see them gloat. It’s almost cute the way they gush over when they talk about how they nabbed the criminals. It’s really interesting to see how the cases unfold though. The biggest thing is that I never thought I would be able to handle this. And I did. Now I feel like I can work in any beat. I can’t believe I’m saying this! I think I have grown up!

Okay, now this post is going haywire, so I shall write about my challenges in point form.

1.  The huge amount of courage it always took me to enter police stations and handle the stares. The curious eyes always seeming to ask ‘Okay what is SHE doing here?’ ‘She looks like a kid. She’s a reporter?’ ‘She doesn’t belong here! Go away, little girl! This is a dark place where bad things happen. Go on, go to a candy store.’

2. The infinite amount of patience it required to sit outside the officers’ offices, when they acted important, when they were busy attending their never-ending ‘meetings’, when they had more important things to do. When I waited for hours, only to hear “I cannot tell you anything about this case. You should talk to Mr. So and so. And Mr. So and so is on chutti.” Grrr. Why, god why?!

3. Visiting a crime scene after a murder or a suicide and talking to people about it. Just how are you supposed to start a conversation with a random passerby about someone else’s death? It took everything it had in me to approach a stranger and talk about it. Most of the times, they stared at me wide-eyed, dodged all my questions and ran away.

4. When I had to try all the tactics in the Handbook of rookie reporters to get information out of a cop. Stern expressions. A confident voice which said ‘I’m not going till you give me all the information’. Puppy eyes. Shadowing a cop relentlessly till he had to give me something out of sheer exasperation. 

5. Realizing you never find any other female crime reporter anytime you visit police stations for a story. And that it is such a boys club. And that police officers are so much more comfortable talking to men, rather than a skinny little girl. They even joke around with them. Sigh.

6.  Sitting in Marathi press conferences, blank and uncomprehending. Then leaning over to a fellow reporter and saying, “Um, could you give me a teeny tiny idea of what the heck is happening?” And many time, telling the cops, “Could you puh-leez be kind enough to talk in Hindi?” and grinning.

7. The frustration and the anguish of knowing that after travelling in unimaginable conditions sandwiched between people of all shapes, sizes and smells, you do not have enough to make a story. After spending your entire day bumping into dead ends, you have to go back to office empty handed. I felt like crying then. Because it made me question my abilities. But somehow you had to file in the story. Talk over the phone, make a million calls. But get it done.

8. The exhaustion that hits you on the way back home. When you sit by the window, with your hand over your head, listening to music, looking at the tired faces of the fellow passengers and thinking “This is not easy.”

9. Having to go through the arduous task of being in the midst of so many unthinkable things humans do to another. How they can be so heartless as to take someone else's life is beyond me. It's depressing. 

Apart from all of this, there have been some good times. So, naturally, it calls for another list.

1.  The feeling of seeing your name in the paper. A byline! Your efforts are there for the people to read. That some space has been carved out for you, amongst so many other good stories.

2.  The seemingly endless Monday meetings with the entire team. The intelligent discussions that made you feel like they are speaking another language. The story ideas peppered with jokes and leg-pulling. The feeling of being a part of a proper newsroom, where people churn out so many stories about the city every single day.

3.  The lunch with my team members S and G after the meetings. S’s home food. His silly quirks and jokes. G’s one-liners, the way he sang old hindi songs in office. His encouragement every time I felt down. His support every time I doubted myself. Making fun of certain people. Laughing at each other. Mostly them laughing at me. 

4. Asking T to go for a tea break. Sharing her dabba with her. Having tea and uttapa and cheese sandwiches in the cafeteria. Going outside the office and having masala dosa with cheese. So many cups of chai. Cribbing about the day, joking about our experiences, sharing the mutual problems and talking about college.

5. Stealing time from work and sitting at Marine Drive. That one time T and I were so bored we sat and stared at the crabs. For half an hour. And it was one of the most interesting things we had done that day.

6. The entire feel of Nariman point. The roads, the tall commercial buildings, marine drive, the cool breeze, the lack of noisy crowds everywhere.

7.  The overall atmosphere in the office after 7. Phones ringing, fingers tapping at the keyboards at top speed. The chatter, the excitement, the rush of meeting deadlines, the jokes.

8.  Sunlight. The drinks. The conversation. Crossing the road like little kids. Laughter. Abandonment. Popcorn stuck in the hair.

9. Having N to talk to. The way she entered my room when I was curled up in bed, and talked to me and always made me feel better. The way we went out to have coffee or just 'some place nice'. Having my college friends as my flatmates and knowing I can talk to them and laugh with them and meet them back on the hill again.

10. Always having someone or the other to be with. Trying out so many new places. The Little Door, Theobroma, ChaiCoffi, Bistro 1, Big Bang Cafe, Firangi Paani, Banana Leaf, Woodside Inn, Hawaiian Shack, Hearsch and so many more. 

10. The feeling of ending the day with a fulfilling story. A good story. The feeling that you contributed to the paper. You did something worthwhile. Sitting in the train, looking out and just feeling good about yourself.

I did not realize how long this post has turned out to be. And there is so much more that I have to say. Well, I’ll have to leave that for the next time. There’s so much more of Mumbai inside me that I have to share. Christmas is almost here and tomorrow I’m going out with one of my best friends to shop and roam around Bandra. Oh I am so excited! Life can be so amazing sometimes. I shall write more. Soon.

P.S. Today a friend texted me “You know, if all human beings were more like you, I wouldn’t have hated humanity so much.” How adorable is that? :)

Zinda hoon yaar, kaafi hai

I watched Lootera yesterday. I loved a Hindi movie to this extent after a long time. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting such good performances by Sonakshi Sinha and Ranveer Singh after the kind of movies they’ve done. But I had my hopes anchored at Vikramaditya Motwane, and I knew he won’t disappoint the audience after Udaan. I was right.

The entire movie is a visual masterpiece, with each shot planned and strung together beautifully to bring out the surreal, dreamlike feel to the movie, while not overdoing it. The cinematography is breathtaking and the performances powerfully played out. Even though there is minimal dialogue exchange, a lot of emotions have been evoked with silence and expressions. The music is sublime and beautiful, and stays with you long after you walk out of the hall. I can’t stop listening to the album. It’s healing and uplifting, to say the least. The lyrics are unbelievable. Amit Trivedi and Amitabh Bhattacharya have outdone themselves.

The movie promises to be an unforgettable one at the very first scene, where the father narrates a story to her beloved daughter. The simplicity of the scene was something anyone can fall in love with. Barun Chanda has played the father’s role with genuine intensity and compassion. Ranveer Singh’s dialogue delivery seems to be a bit too soft at times, but he plays his role as the hero, as well as the anti-hero convincingly. Sonakshi Sinha is the beautiful, protected and isolated daughter who discovers love and falls in it momentously and tragically. She is often hot tempered and irrational, which makes her all the more endearing. Her role as the desolate, failing writer who sits by her window looking at the snow falling outside and the slow falling of the leaves off the branches of a tree is brilliantly carried out.

The fact that the movie has its own flaws cannot be denied though. The relationship between the protagonists could have been explored a little more, the second half of the movie fails to establish the connect that the audience has with the first half. But the music, shots and the earnest performances overshadows the somewhat weak storyline. I’d really want you to ignore all the flaws, and enjoy the film for what it really is. Live it, feel it. Watch it, if only to watch the last scene. 

A random 'I'm-home' post

I’m home. I just realized why people love being home so much. They can be utterly carefree and comfortable. They are with people who know them inside out and love them anyway in a manner not possible with anyone else. Those people know little, insignificant things about each other’s lives and you can recall, and reconnect and laugh about it all.

Home feels perfect after my stay at Delhi. I can do what I want. Get up late, and have the entire day sprawled in front of me. I watched the season finale of The Office. I knew it was going to be awesome, but it was much more than that. I love the couple Jim and Pam, and at one point in my life I thought I had what they had. But I didn’t. Then at another point of time I thought I had it again. But I didn’t. And I’m in this confused turmoil where everything seems haywire. Which is why it is really good for me right now to be at home. I have switched my phone off and thrown it in some corner of the house. It was to prove a point to myself. I wanted to do the same with my laptop, but I obviously couldn’t do it. So I’ve disconnected myself from absolutely everyone apart from my family. I don’t want to think anymore. Can I just run away from all the people I know and I've known and loved and never have to deal with anything ever again? 

Even though getting rid of my phone seems to be working, I sometimes get curious to switch it on, but I tell myself otherwise. Must. NOT. Touch. Phone. I feel numb to all the negativity. I can’t feel anything. I'm too exhausted to feel anything. (Emotionally) And when it comes to me, that's rare. Yesterday I went to see Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani and I knew I wasn’t going to like it but I wanted to go out with everyone. And I laughed. A lot. Even though it was mostly because of the little kid sitting next to us who was jumping, clapping and laughing at every scene in the first half of the movie. Mom dropped almost all the popcorn in an entire tub, and the coffee hardly had any sugar, and ten minutes later the movie threw all palpable logic out of the window, but I seriously enjoyed myself. There’s a scene in the movie where Ranbir and Deepika are sightseeing in Udaipur, and they are sitting on top of this tall fort overlooking the city. And he’s telling her to hurry up otherwise they would miss some show. And she tells him, “No matter what you do in life, you’re missing out on something or the other. You can’t have everything. So why don’t you just enjoy the present?” And they sit there and watch the sunset.

I welled up at that scene because that made so much sense. Just cherish what you have. Right now. Don’t think about everything you could have been doing, because there is a LOT. Instead, try to make every situation worthwhile. I don't know why I keep forgetting that.

We also went for a nice family dinner to a good restaurant, and the food, the conversations, the drive back home, singing along with the songs, everything just makes me feel so much closer to my family. Papa, mumma, didoo and mangu. We don’t need anyone else. Mom is hilarious, and dad is really cute. Today when we all got dressed before going out, we started clicking pictures, and he started jumping like a little kid. It was so adorable. Didoo and I can entertain each other for hours on end. Mangu needs to be a little alive though. At home I feel like a complete kid again. Somewhere I can do anything in the world. Sing a Himesh Reshammiya song and shake my bum like a mad man. A place where you get each other's jokes and idiosyncrasies. A place where I can sit in the midst of my relatives and make them laugh their guts out.

In the last episode of The Office, Pam tells the viewers to always go for what will make you happy. She wants to tell all the girls out there to be strong, be confident enough to go for what they really want, and not for what they think they should do. And they should act fast because life isn’t really that long.

But what if you don’t even know what you want anymore?

Once my stint at home comes to an end, and I head back to college, I know I’m going to have to decide this.

Or maybe not. Maybe I just don’t want to do anything but enjoy my last year as a student. Be happy. Really happy. For now though, it’s 15 days without a care in the world.

Sharing a couple of super cute pictures!

(Doo, mom, moi)

(Mummy love)

The Dream

She could see the back of his head as they made their way through the crowded railway station. It seemed like a time eons ago or in the future, and a place quite unlike anything she’d ever seen. He would sometimes move forward and she would be left scrambling, scrunching her face as she pushed herself forward, not moving her eyes away from the back of his rather huge head, lest they get separated.

It seemed like a high-tech, advanced railway station, with shining smooth trains, and computer operated passageways and terminals. It was unlike any other railway stations she had seen in India. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks as something dawned upon her. He had gone quite far ahead. He came back when he realized she wasn’t behind him.

“What are you doing? Come on, we’ll miss the train!”

“I.. I can’t go to Bombay with you.”

“What? Don’t say that now. We had planned this. You wanted to do this.”

“I did. But now, I know that if I don’t stay back and give my interview, I might regret it for the rest of my life. Don’t you want me to get the opportunity which would make me get the job in Australia?”

“Yes, but.. but you told me Bombay was what you wanted. With me.”

“The interviewers can come to India anytime in the next two days. I have to stay back. I have to do this. I’m sorry.”

The look on his face was the most painful expression she had ever seen. Her heart leaped out of her chest for him, but she stood rooted to her spot. His eyes glistened as he said, “Okay. All the best.” He turned and left. She stood there and looked at him until he dissolved in the crowd, and the back of his head was no longer visible.

She closed her eyes, and breathed. Long and hard. She turned back and started walking but her legs felt like they were made of iron. Flashes of the past whizzed through her brain like a movie montage and she screamed, “Fuck it! I’m going with him.”

She ran. She pushed through the crowd, and ran like she had never run before. On a railway station swarming with people. She ran towards his platform, and saw him disappear behind a glass door, which lifted him up on another platform.

She ran. She does not remember for how long, and how she made her way through the hordes of people, but she finally saw him standing in front of his train, saying goodbye to his best friends. He held her yellow top, which she remembered she had given him, and which always smelled of her. His expression seemed blank now, like it didn’t matter whether he goes to Bombay or stays back anymore.

He saw her. And for a second, he didn’t believe it. As soon as he realized it was indeed her, she saw him grinning the broadest smile. Relief swept over his face like a gentle breeze, and he walked towards her. He was almost gliding towards her, making his way perfectly through the bustling people, looking only at her.

She ran up to him and buried her face in his shoulder, like she always did whenever she did something stupid. “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I want us to go to Bombay.” She looked up at him. “Together.”

He smiled, brushed a strand of hair off her face, and kissed her nose. “We will go to Bombay. Just, not this time. You were thinking right. You should give the interview. I want you to go abroad. You always wanted to.”

She looked at him, her heart melting and no words coming out of her mouth. The train whistled, and the passengers started rushing inside. “You want me to..?”

He nodded, and hugged her tight. Tears filled her eyes, when she realized what this meant. They would not see each other. Not for a long, long time. “Bye, love”, he whispered. “Bombay beckons.”

“I love you,” she said, tears streaming down her eyes now. He held her hands and kissed them. He got in the train, and waved at her. He pursed his lips like he always did, and then lifted his glasses up, to wipe a lone tear hanging at the side of his eye.

She stood there and waved till the train left and went out of sight. She knew something had come to an end. She knew he had taken away a part of her with him that day. But she also knew they would meet again. And when they did, it would be beautiful.  

Rewind. Stop. Play.

“Kyun na hum tum,
Chalein tedhe medhe se raston pe
Nange paon re,
Chal bhatak lena baanwre”

Have you listened to the soundtrack of Barfi? Though the movie was disappointing, the music is almost heartbreakingly magical. It only adds to my already painfully nostalgic existence. It’s funny how I’m always reminiscing at this age. When I’m 70 I’ll probably kill myself.

When I was downloading the album from the file-sharing software through which our entire college is connected, I realized how easy it is now to get songs and movies. It hardly takes a few seconds. Wow. Sometimes I fondly look back at the times when cassettes were the latest thing, and we had to stand in line in a music shop, buy a cassette for 50 rupees, and if we were lucky, get a two-in-one tape with songs of two movies in it! Oh how thrilling it used to be to remove the plastic, put the shiny new cassette in the car’s stereo system, read everything written on the cover, and listen to those 8 odd songs over and over again till the cassette would be ready to disintegrate into a thousand little pieces. During family trips, those handful of songs used to be such loyal companions. We would listen to the songs so many times that every beat, every rhythm, every syllable would get embedded into our conscience so deeply that we would probably never forget them in this lifetime. I still remember every word and every musical instrument used in all those Dil to Pagal Hai and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai songs and I can sing them with the same amount of impossible energy and enthusiasm as I did when I was 8.

My earliest memories of movies are the ones dad had recorded for us on the VCR. Chaalbaaz, Andaaz Apna Apna and Saajan were a few of them. Watching Tom and Jerry was a ritual. Lion King, Home Alone, Dunston checks in, Mrs. Doubtfire led us into fascinating, obscure worlds. We were the first family in our locality to buy a small Sony CD player and getting a new movie CD on rent and watching it on the TV used to be an event. Generally on weekends, the drawing room used to be alive with relatives plonked on soft white mattresses, the soothing roar of the air cooler in the background, the entire family would sit together and get lost in the world of make-believe, glamour and artificial characters. Funny, comical movies used to be the best. I can still recall dad’s face red and contorted with the effort of trying to suppress the laughter, tears flowing down mom’s eyes as she laughed uncontrollably, my brother rolling on the floor laughing that distinct high-pitched laughter of his and my sister, almost falling off the sofa more at the others than what was happening in the movie itself. Sometimes there used to be mom’s pav-bhaji with lots of butter and Coke, and sometimes there used to be aloo poori with that one inevitable cup of chai that always had to follow, and there was that little argument about who was going to make it.

Even going out to watch the 9 to 12 movie show in the traditional theatres was an experience. Having an early dinner and getting ready, buying tickets and popcorn, and watching the movie with the family, and always, always wrapping mom’s chunni around me when it got too chilly inside the hall. Discussing the movie and asking everyone “Movie kaisi lagi?” (How did you like the movie?) in the car on the way back. Stopping on the way for ice-cream or paan.

Winter nights were spent watching silly hows like Comedy Circus, CID, KBC or Aahat or any movie being shown on the TV whatsoever, snuggled inside fluffy quilts chewing carelessly on peanuts or cashews. The first sentence after switching the TV on used to be “Dekho koi achchi picture aa rahi hai kya?” (See if there’s a good movie on TV!) Making fun of all the make-up wearing, glycerine-using, poor housewives in all of the K serials mom used to watch. The afternoons were a blur of Rasna, Khas, water melons and naps in front of the cooler after watching the ‘70s and ‘80s movies with grandparents.

It was a time when a few clicks and a few seconds were not enough to get access to the enchanting, wonderful world of movies and music. I often feel I was lucky to be born in a typical middle class family in India in the ‘90s because I have seen the transition every so clearly right in front of my eyes. God bless technology that we are exposed to so many documentaries and movies that one lifetime would not be enough.

But sometimes, I yearn for that time, I long to be that little girl again, perched on that maroon sofa in a small house in a small town, sipping Rooh Afza with my laughing, chortling family around me because Paresh Rawal said something funny to Sunil Shetty in Aawara Pagal Deewana.

Spreadin' the lourve

Happy Huggsy Wuggsy day! 

It’s Valentine’s day tomorrow and lou is definitely in the air. I got my share too, in the form of two blog awards :D

That makes three of them now. And that’s awesome. So, I have double the work to do, and I’ll get to it. Chop chop!

To begin with thank you Aqsa and Songbird for giving the awards to me. I’m highly honoured!

According to the rules, I’m supposed to mention ten random facts about me, and then answer the questions they had asked. So here are the random facts:

1. I love crushing the big, crunchy brown leaves that are strewn on the ground when I’m walking to and fro from our classes to our hostel. They give me a weird sense of satisfaction.

2. Sometimes a vague tune from a vague song gets stuck in my head and it drives me mad because I can’t stop singing it and I can’t recall which song it is from.

3. Sometimes I find things funny which actually aren’t, and then I go on these irreversible laughing sprees, and my stomach starts hurting and my eyes water and basically I look like a stork high on crack.

4. When I get cranky, I shout at people for no reason, (or cry at some silly childhood memory) and then start laughing instantly because I know I’m being unreasonable.

5. I romanticize everything. I love nature, I love trees, I love mountains, and sunsets, and you get the picture. And I find beauty in sadness, and happiness in solitude, meaning in the rise and fall of waves crashing against the rocks. Yeah, stuff like that.

6. I love being around people, and I love it when big groups of friends laugh together. It’s one of the happiest sounds in the world.

7. I cry, a lot. I cry during movies, I cry reading books, I cry having emotional conversations, I cry listening to music. But most times, they’re happy tears. I’m very weird.

8. I like to get into discussions about religion, faith, the supernatural, the universe, psychology, philosophy, love, and everything that cannot be explained or understood easily.

9. I love tea. I need to have a cuppa tea every evening, with chips. Especially cheese puffs. And sipping tea watching the sun go down has become a habit, and it calms me down.

10. I love wit, and sarcasm, and deep voices. And soap bubbles, and small cafes and bookstores. And purple. And cheese. And Nutella. Boiled peas and mashed potatoes. The sound of mummy’s laughter and the way her eyes become scrunchy when she laughs. A warm hand to hold. Messy hair. Raindrops. The smell of wet mud. Listening to music and looking out the window in a bus/train.

Aqsa's questions:

1. What is the first thing you do when you wake up?

I check my phone to see the time and check for new text messages or mails. I stretch, I groan and make noises, I keep shifting in bed and complain about how painful life is, finally drag myself out of bed and go and sleep in the bathroom.

2. How do you express your anger?

I swear under my breath (a LOT), or I write, or I just talk to a close friend. I tried kicking a tree once. It did not end well.

3. If you had to live on a lonely island and take only one book with you, which one would it be?

Most probably Catcher in the Rye, or The Twins at St. Clare’s.

4. An embarrassing moment/fact about you?

I realized how much I didn’t know and how much I still don’t once I joined this college. And many are facts and issues about my own country.

5. How much do you let your academic success/failure affect your life?

Not much. I just focus on managing a decent score, but if I get bad grades I don’t let it upset me for long. Because I don’t feel marks are a fair assessment of how intelligent or efficient you are.

6. Do you believe in first impressions?

Totally. You tend to notice a person a lot when you meet them for their first time. Their clothes, their walk, their body language. I like smiling, warm, jumpy people :D

7. What period of your life do you think was the best?

My childhood! It was the best ever! It was a time of cardboard carton submarines, Rasna, bicycles, climbing trees, freedom and endless possibilities. Also, May 2010 to May 2012.

8. Do you live in the present more or brood about the past or fantasize about the future more?

I fantasize a hell lot! I do dwell in the past. And sometimes, I live completely in the present. So, I guess a mix of all three.

9. Your favourite cartoon and why?

Dexter’s Laboratory, Dragon Ball Z, Ed Edd ‘n’ Eddy, Powerpuff Girls. Because they were my life when I was a kid.

10. Harry Potter or Twilight?

Harry Potter. ANY day!

Songbird’s questions:

1. What would be your ideal weapon to fight a zombie apocalypse?

One of those massive hammers that I can use to just bash the zombie’s heads into pulp. But they should be really light.

2. Who is your favourite singer/artist/band?

Radiohead, Simon and Garfunkel, Coldplay, Muse, Porcupine Tree, The Fray.

3. What is the ideal vacation spot?

A white sandy beach, lots of clear water, high tides, good food, music, and the company of your closest friends.

4. Do you believe in miracles?

I don’t. But then there are moments, when I kind of do.

5. Why do you have a blog?

It gives me a sense of identity. I feel like I belong somewhere; it gives me an outlet to express my feelings. It just makes me happy I can share my thoughts with people who care enough to read them.

6. If you could choose between your left eye and right eye to see with the rest of your life, which eye would you choose?

Uhm, right eye, because it has lesser power than my left eye :P

7. What is your favourite punctuation mark?

Without a doubt, the exclamation mark!!

8. Do you own a pet?

I did. A Lhasa Apso called Cherry, and a lab called Shirley.

9. What do you think of my blog?

I think it’s innocently beautiful. Reminds me of myself when I was a little younger. Keep writing!

10. You are going to die in 10 minutes. What are you gonna do?

I’ll just sit silently and think over my life (and try to calm myself down and breathe because I'd be freaking out!) Maybe call a couple people and tell them how much I love them.

Now, to choose 10 bloggers to give these awards to:

And here they are:

• Nayan
• Sachin
• Typing to the beat of my heart
• Sugar cube
• Hamsini
• Shilpa
• Rajan
• Sowmya
• The Frozen Flame
• Rushabh

Congrats! :D

 My questions to them:

1. What is your biggest pet peeve?

2. Who was your first crush?

3. What is your favourite childhood memory?

4. What is your favourite dialogue from a movie/book?

5. What is the one crazy thing you want to do before you die?

6. How would you define love?

7. What if your absolute favourite moment?

8. What are you addicted to?

9. What are your biggest fears?

10. If you were to be stuck in a lift with one person, who would it be?

And there, I’m done! Yaaaay! I feel so productive after writing all this nonsense, even though I have a big assignment due tomorrow. So people who have won the award, start typing! :D

And now just for kicks, I'm sharing a picture here. Some bloggy love for all my readers!

(Muaah)

Teehee! So long, bloggy friends, I’ll be back! :)

Dilli diaries: Part III

This is the first time in five months that I’m sitting on my own bed, I’m sleeping in my fluffy blanket, and the first thing I see when I get up is my purple wall. I’M HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME! Coming home after staying at another place is quite indescribable, and only the person who actually experiences it knows what it feels like. When I sit in my room now, it’s like I had never left home at all! Like the five months in college never happened! And yet at the same time, it feels so different.

I still remember how I felt a few days before I left home, the apprehension, the excitement, the hollow pit in my stomach. Now I feel like I’m not the same person anymore. So much has changed since the last time I was here. So much. And yet, all these little reminders in my room tell me that I’m still the same person, and perhaps will always be. Talking to mummy is still refreshing, making tea in the kitchen feels so warm and homely, uninterrupted internet connection is bliss, waking up to the reassuring hum of the washing machine and going through all my old books and diaries. Sigh, it’s brilliant to be home. I needed this.

Delhi was absolutely wonderful to me. And because Diwali is around the corner, it was gorgeous and exciting. I turned 22. Yes, it hurts to say that. I had JUST turned 21, and I wasn’t even over the shock when BAM! I turned another year older :/ I just wish I could stay 22 for another five years, and then move on. Time just whizzes by, it’s crazy!  Anyway, you always have people around you who make you feel so special on your birthday that it all seems worth it. People who gift you amazing, thoughtful books, and people who write poems for you, and people who get you toffee eclairs cake, and people who take you out on a drive on the highway and you can just sit on the window of the car and scream like a banshee against the wind. Also, people who make you have something so amazing as a Banoffee pie. Mmm!

I miss Delhi now. I miss travelling in the metro, counting the stations, standing till my legs felt like they would fall out. And I miss the brilliantly lit up Select City Walk with its fountains, and music and having warm chocolate donuts sitting in the chilly winter breeze. I miss working for the NGO, Vidya, and the little kids with the big sparkling eyes and the innocent grins. I miss walking on the roads, in the malls, I miss how there were always so many places to go to, and so many things to do. I miss the vibrant, shining, shimmering city. I really wish I get to visit it again soon.

For now, I think I’ll get back in my fluffy blanket again.

“If I lay here,

If I just lay here,

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Let’s waste time,

Chasing cars, in our heads.”

Dilli Diaries: Part I

There is something about Delhi.

There’s something about the premature winter winds of November, something about the bustling crowd at the metro stations, about the pretty young faces sitting at the Hauz Khas fort, about the restless, busy people walking on the roads, and the young groups of friends outside the malls.

There’s something about travelling in the metro, looking at the faces standing around you, wondering about their lives, and watching the city go by.

There’s something about cutting a birthday cake on a bench in Deer Park. There’s something about listening to Ambar by Raghu Dixit at Delhi Haat amidst illuminated trees.

There’s something about gorging on the typical north Indian chaat from a roadside food vendor when you are incredibly hungry.

There’s something about purposefully not wearing anything warm and then catching a cold and sitting in bed cutely sniffling away and whatsapping.

There’s something about living with a typical family who fusses over you and takes care of you and feeds you twice as much of ghar ka khaana than you are generally used to eating.

There’s something about watching a Shahrukh Khan movie on his birthday till 5 in the night, making fun of everything about it, and then getting up at 3 in the afternoon the next day.

I’ve spent only four days here, but I already feel so connected to the city. The sprawling, massive, frightening, liberating city. I can’t get enough of it. 6 more days here :)

Also, my birthday week has begun! I’m going to collect all my Delhi memories and keep them in a little bag when I go back home. Delhi, you can be so harsh and mean, but oh I love you :')