It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world or Hello, again…

For the past few days, I’ve been feeling a lot like Gordan Way. I don’t remember much about this character from Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, but what’s stuck in my head is a description of how he would call up people, preferably being directed to their answering machines, and then talk his heart out as to what all was needed to be done. I don’t remember much about him apart from the fact that he kinda gets killed by an electric monk and his horse – at least I think it was a horse, it might as well have been a donkey- but the more important thing is – I kinda understand his urge to tell people about his elaborate list of Things to Do.

I find myself trusted with responsibility; tons of it. Sure, there might be the tad bit of me that’s pleased with this development but a larger more ‘get me out of here’ part is sick with worry. It’s not that big a deal, except I can’t seem to quit making lists. Also, I might be secretly a tyrant in the making; what’s worrying is how pleased I am by the idea.

I spent twelve hours yesterday and today morning formatting and editing a piece of work, just to realize a moment after I had dispatched it, that I’d forgotten to do something as basic as run it through an MS Word Spell n’ Grammar Check. I’ve most probably over–edited it and most definitely forgotten to add page numbers. I am not quite sure whether I could pass it off as a balancing act.

The LAN connection in College has been tweaked so that certain searches on key words evoke an error message. Considering the Third year First Round Internal Moot Problem is about a gang raped woman whose bisexual husband runs away with her first gay ex-husband, the ingenuity of this tweaking is mind numbing. Ah well.

I wish I could say that I am mooting again for the right reasons; more than the right reasons, wish I could say with a theatrical smirk and a half shrug – ‘Coz I am good at it.’ A lot of people in my batch seemed to have given up on it…at least for this year. I persist because…well, because I don’t want to regret not giving it another shot, because I love the high and the effort that goes in, and even at its worst, there is a delirious part of me that knows that looking back it will all seem funny. I realize the last lines straight from one of those American movies, where the hero/heroine amidst cheery pop music decides to do whatever big thing that he/she had been feeling rather ambivalent about. Chances are, this being the real world and all, if I don’t make the cut, I’ll be bawling my eyes out, but I am, for most parts, certain that, heartbreak or not, I’d still be glad that I did it.

In other news I still do not have a Law and Economics topic. Also, though the ‘geeky coolness’ of saying I am studying Space Law still makes me grin, my project topic on spectrum and orbit leasing might have wooshed over my head, narrowly missing my hair. Not that, technology was ever my forte…have I told you about the time when I crashed not one but two laptops in the space of a week? Oh wait, that was last week! Philip, to whom all my laptop woes are directed, told me he was going to donate to a corpus fund so that he could buy me a typewriter. I went through all the classic symptoms of de-addiction. All I could think of doing when all my friends were listening to music, playing games, watching movies, doing projects – in short hanging out with their own respective laptops was well clean. I dusted my books, regained the surface of my table from piles of accumulated junk, ironed my clothes and when all that could be done was done, I did something more along the lines. Think about it. I spent entire Sundays cleaning! The Horror!

Of course, I am back to my old ways, now that my laptop’s returned. I just spent an entire evening writing this long drawn out rather pointless post…which was the only way I could think off coming out of a really long hiatus. It was either this or one of those mindless ‘you’re tagged’ blog polls. And I used that, the last time

Desperate Pleas for Help as oppossed to Do Not Disturb Signs

This notice went up outside my room at approximately 1:30 on Saturday afternoon. Unlike the many, who write DO NOT DISTURB OR I WILL KICK YOUR ASS outside their door, come exams, I approach them with…well desperate cries for help.

Dear Everybody,

Hello and Welcome to another edition of “ This crazy girl has gone mad again!” What can I say except that I have been frittering away my life in wishy washy pursuits. I’ve been editing the magnum opus of the Kick-Assest Issue Ever (Yes, it is called that, yes it is that much Kick-assest); I’ve been reading about the latest p-sets those crazy kids have to do; I am also suddenly and irrevocably in love with Jess from Gilmore Girls…again. (what can I say, there is just enough James Dean in him.)

As a result my studies have been (what’s the right word) rather ‘neglected’. In other words, the time for PANIC is now. The time for action was in all probability two weeks ago. But NO, my delusional mind tells me: there is hope. And this Hope person/ voice tells me that if I know what’s good for me, I will lock myself in my room, throw away the key and study like mad. So if you see me wasting time, Scream At Me; if you hear too much ac/dc playing in my room; Scream At Me. Remind me about prioritizing. Give me Notes and Advice. If All Else Fails, (gulp) as a last resort – Call My Mother.

Love

Me

Ps: by any chance have you seen a key lying around anywhere?

Ramblings On Organised Mess

I’ve been back in college for four days now and over the weekend – I finally overcame my fears and inhibitions, and completed the very very difficult task. That’s Right. I cleaned up my room.

Scoff all you want. But this a months’ worth of accumulated grime and dust that I am talking about. The thing is, we had our semester break and my dear old room has had little airing or dusting in the meantime.

People, who have seen the condition of my room in its various avatars, will find this supposed preoccupation with cleanliness slightly out of character. (In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my alcove mates’ almost philosophical musings on a messy room in a recent poetry competition was inspired by the state of affairs in my room) A misunderstanding, for sure. There is difference between messiness and cleanliness – subtle yes, but it’s there!

Over time, I have skipped from one lame escuse to another, depending on whom I am giving it to. People who accidentally pop into my room, are always treated to an airy dismissive wave of the hand, as if brushing all the stuff on the floor under the bed – “It’s been one of those weeks” I say with a brave brave smile and the uninitiated are easily fooled.

“Organised Mess” I tell the others stoically; the ones that know that the week, month or even the year has little to do with the condition of my room. They give me hard stares, shake their heads in grave reproach and mumble about ‘pigsties being neater’ under their breath. Some of them are so overcome by it that they look me in the eye and say the dreaded words “think of what your mother would go through if she saw your room”.

All right So I admit it. My room is hardly perfect. But like I said, “messy” and “clean” are different. I keep my room clean, more than some of my More-Books-On-The-Bookshelf-Than-On-The-Floor-Friends and the whole malfunction, as far as arrangement is concerned, is all the Universities fault. There are vile evil days like “submission day”, “due date”, “day of viva” “exam date” that get thrown around with alarming frequency and destroy whatever little “arrangement” my poor room has.

My mother’s sentimentality aside, I have this to say in defense of my room – that my room’s got character – it was allegedly haunted ( never seen nothing, except a an arrow on the wall and “Lick me” written on it now lost under a host of pictures.) It’s weirdly angled so that it looks bigger than the standard hostel room, and miraculously enough it seems to find some place or the other for the copious amount of junk, that I cannot seem to find any use for but apparently can’t live without, I wasn’t kidding about organised mess either, for there is a wacky order in there…somewhere.

Like I said my room’s got character – you just have to look beyond the clutter just a bit.

Cheering Up…Or Failing That…

What I wouldn’t give to just give up…to stop dragging my feet listlessly through endless days of inescapable drudgery and just throw up my hands and say ‘ENOUGH’, ‘I AM DONE’, ‘SCREW MULTITASKING’. Forgive my language but whining always tends to stir all that is melodramatic and cliched in me.

As it stands I have spent the last few days, nay the week feeling generally sorry for myself. I’ve developed that particular trait so much so that it is almost an art form now and it generally involves being kinda snappy and pessimistic. Some people who may claim to know me may point out that being snappy and pessimistic isn’t very much different from my normal behavior but that’s just crap. I am snappy and full of pessimism yes, but I usually try to maintain the veneer of cheery false optimism that makes life far more congenial at the small cost, of course, of being labeled delusional.

It sucks being stuck in the depths of depression and the pits of gloom and other cliche maligned places and I have tried almost every other cheer up remedy from listening to my Inspi songs,impromptu eating binge with my friends, watching back to back episodes of some inane show, reading up all the Inspi stuff that I could get my hands on, dropping all of it on my parents in a ‘Help Me, I am Your Only Child and Though I should be all grown up I am still gonna act like a five year old and cry Mamma’ phonecall… Yep, I did it all. but the thing is NOTHING SEEMS TO WORK. And I can’t afford to be Blue!!! I have work, damn it…tons and mega tons of it.

I see the cycle of course. I feel blue so I don’t do the work; then I feel blue that I didn’t do the work; So I don’t do more work because I am feeling blue over the work I didn’t do before that. (Okay so this made much more sense in my head)

SO STOP, I say. Stop feeling so freakin’ blue and sorry for yourself!!! (waits to feel different…feet still drag listlessely through several inescapable drudgery filled moments)

Nope no miracle cure in sight and yet I must admit I am done trying to cheer myself up. This is it. I give up. SCREW CHEERING UP. I am just gonna go do my work now.

One Year At Law School : An Introduction

One Year At Law School, I keep scribbling that on my note pad, in hopes that some profound thought would strike me; in hopes, that I would be able to write something revelatory on my experience and wrap up my first year with a nice one lined eulogy. But as always I only get static.

I could probably say: ‘it has been one hell of a year,’ or pass on an ‘endearing’ phrase to law student aspirants everywhere: ‘Welcome to Law School. Get ready, to be Counter-Striked.’ But there is something neat about these lines that just don’t explain the messy half done feel that I have for the first year.

The post/posts that follow therefore are hardly clear on where the hell are they heading and are at best scribbled down half thoughts of someone who finally has a holiday!