Momentary Lapses of the Unintelligible

Sitting on one of those Nature Comittee Benches, legs stretched out conveniently, sipping the ‘not too bad’ slightly too sweet hostel tea, some vaguely familiar music playing in the background and watching a couple of second years dribble a football around for no particular reason, and I think quite cheesily…this here is a moment.

Then again, I am quite capable of coming up with them in retrospect…extra time of a slushy rain swept football match, played in borrowed red spiked shoes two sizes too big, then the goal…we’ve all hugging after that and toppling over into the mud… of course when it happened it was all a blur…which in itself is kinda perfect. Though they always need to slow it down in sport movies for the effect.

There are however the really ironic ones that I wish I would not notice – one really bad moot court later, walking back to hostel and from the most inconspicuous of places – the bloody gym, one hear Eminem taunting ‘you get one shot, one opportunity …that’s all you’ve got…” and, I am not making this up…honest!

There are also the ones, that are truly of one’s own making…for example the fact – that every time I am in a metro train, a part of me keeps waiting for the moment – when the ceiling of the train will be ripped open to reveal our protagonists who will then proceed to have a compulsive cool samurai fight across the length and breadth of the compartment. Sigh, I am still sadly waiting for that one.

Moments, when you notice them are nice. As in, the thing with moments…is that they kinda make the clock stop – there is always a ton of stuff floating around in the background of your head but when you see a moment, you go “WoW! Stop, rewind“…and then again “WoW”. I know I am explaining it in a really bad Bill & Ted impersonation, but the truth is I am glad I see moments…real or otherwise.

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?

On Writing…I think.

I found this little…something  in a forgotten word doc:

To write would be an awfully tiresome venture,

and yet to read and to know

that one has not written and has not even tried -

Slaughtered before utterance half thoughts of mine-

waiting forever for the other shoe to drop.

Perhaps it is the Cinderella tale all over again-

left with one shoe? What would you do?

For the other one, start a quest?

Or grumble at being an unlucky fool?

I think this was a result of reading a qoute by Henry Miller on writing  at the time and and hence the title of the post.

A Stirring (albiet late) Ramble on December Love, New Year Cheer? Hah! What Hogwash, & Lame Squad Among Other Things

Come Jan 4th, the snow on my Blog disappears for good and I wanted to write this post before that. I don’t know why they – the wordpress people- can’t let the snow stay (fall?) till late Jan; then again, I see it as one more of those inexplicable reasons why December stands out for me.

I Love December. Passionately. Completely. With all my heart. That’s right, I love… a month. This shouldn’t really come as a surprise. I have, after all, expressed my innate fondness for the Microsoft Office assistant cat, tea, words (my favourites at the moment being ‘Exquisite’ & ‘Slaughter’!) etc which are all borderline obsessive. A love for a month seems saner in some respects, especially when it comes with good reasons.

As any self obsessed kid/human being, my initial reasons for loving December centered on the one and most important fact:  My ‘Happy Birthday’ is in December! I was and continue to be extremely pleased with ‘my being’ and loving December – which bought me gifts and a day when I was fussed over more than usual- came naturally.

One of the earliest memories of my childhood (which is also one of my few early memories not directly connected to food) is that of come December my dad fiddling around with the Diwali lights, usually stowed away under the kitchen cabinet, which we would then put up around our house in Lucknow. They were meant to be Christmas + New Year decorations, but they invariably went up before my birthday, which I always took as a subtle yet obvious indicator of my own self importance! Did I mention I was self obsessed?

Out of the dozen or more schools I’ve been to, a few have been of the Convent variety. This entailed that come December, if you were in the lower grades, you were lined up and taken to the music room and taught to sing carols. By rote. Not that I minded, really. Because once you’ve sung your carols, and done the Christ is Born Play (I was always chosen as one of the Three Wise Kings!) you got to stay at home, for over two weeks! That’s right – Christmas Break! I spent most of that time, glued to the idiot box watching every single glitzy glatzy Christmas special that could be called forth, by the judicious use of a remote control. I loved them all – I loved each and every commercialised moment of it.

At home we usually had our very own fake Christmas tree with fake gifts – little matchboxes and soap boxes covered in decorative wrapping paper.  I never really believed in Santa but I always opened each and every soapbox and matchbox after the decorations came down hoping against hope for some sort of magical transformation. Never did happen (surprise, surprise) but I did it anyway.

I remember last year, before the whole ‘cusp debacle’, having a time pass discussion with a friend of mine on famous people born in the same zodiac as our inconsequential selves. Now my friend was clearly winning – throwing out one name after the other. I was generally wracking my brain for someone so famous, that he/ she would trump all her bigwigs.  Enlightenment hit a few moments later and I blurted out with unparalleled fervour: JESUS CHRIST WAS CAPRICORN!!! He was a freakin’ Capricorn! I won that argument hands down. (Though now that I think of it there are apparently some inaccuracies about his actual birth date and worse, my actual zodiac. Sigh.)

The point of these disconnected vignettes is to merely point out the obvious. I love this month and so, I should be excused from participating in the terribly traumatic end of December that New Year entails. Why, I fail to understand, does everyone count down the last year (and my dear poor month) with such visceral enjoyment?

The truth is, I think, that I am so determined that I must and should love this month that good stuff happens. My results when they come out bang on in the middle of December, turn out to be pretty well decent; being the first year that I am spending December away from home, my dad pays me a surprise visit; as a founding member of the Lame Squad (The Squad can be described at best being well – Lame and is open to membership to all those who can answer this profound question: What is the Lame Question?) I get the best Double Chocolate Truffle Cake possible from them!

A friend of mine, tired of my rhetoric question of ‘How can one not love December?’ told me during Christmas Brunch that she was forced to love the month as I would scream bloody murder otherwise. All I can say to that is ‘see? I seem to rub off December cheer even on people around me!’

I end this long rambling with a little reminder for next…this year. Around the end of this year say December, if you see a girl grinning like a maniac, and humming Christmas carols under her breath and looking way too pleased with life in general. Forgive her for her weird good cheer. You see, she is in love.

Connecting Imaginary Dots

It was the 8^th afternoon of the month of December. Slowly but surely, an entire class attending a lecture on Science, Technology and Law was being put to Death by Power Point. One brave individual, who rallied, was rewarded with a seemingly inconsequential piece of mindless information:

“The International Seabed Authority, under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982 , has a wing to spearhead exploration of the deep-sea bed. This wing is called the Enterprise.”

Perhaps one must congratulate her keen sense of observation. More likely, one must feel pity for the weird wiring in her head, which made this (un) necessary connection:

ENTERPRISE =

Ergo, Dude, some negotiator sitting at a top level UN Convention drafting meeting was a total Star Trek geek! OMG, V. Cool.

Even more appropriately, perhaps, one must pity the fact that in the sum total of the five lectures that day, this minuscule connection was the only thing that made her grin.

Tall Tales On Books – Abandoned And Unread

I like to think, that I am one of those people who read. I also like to think that I am a modest reader. Sure, I was part of the extremely silly (but clearly superior) bunch of idiots who thought they were way cooler than everyone else in class, because they had read the Lord of the Rings before the movies; but, for most parts I know that though I read, there are just too many freakin’ books in the world, for me to make a dent, any time soon.

But here’s the thing. I usually finish the books that I start. Really. Even if, somewhere within the odd first fifty pages – I get the feel that I really do not want to find out what happened between the chic and the groping tentacles, I still finish the book. Force of habit; a wish to be fair; respect for the outrageous amount my dad probably shelled out for the glossy paperback. Call it what you will, but I nearly always finish my books.

Except when I don’t, and then because of my love for lists, I keep track of them, remember why I didn’t and find out why others did. I am not surprised that I can’t think of that many. But here’s what stands out in no apparent order:

1. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

I bought War and Peace, and Anna Karena together, when I was probably in my eight or ninth grade, from the cute-but-poor-second-hand-bookseller outside my favourite bookshop in Hyderabad. I got through War and Peace not just because of my tenacious will, or because I was full of pity for Pierre whom I couldn’t bear to abandon mid-book/s conflicted and so very puppy-like lost, but also, I admit for what its worth, for the very superficial reason- that I wanted to be able to say that I had read it; that I had read War and Peace. To begin Anna Karenina immediately after that was nearly impossible for me, especially since I knew what happens in the end. I remember talking about Anna Karenina in all-brazen indifference on messenger to my friend once. My exact words are not what I remember. It was probably something very aseptic, Anna Karenina? She dies, right? Or, something akin but I remember my friend’s response and it was, I swear, like I could hear him talk and he said, “she dies, yes” but the sentence didn’t quite end there, as if there was more to that ending that I could…should find out by reading the book. I think I’ll get back to the book…someday, all because of a two lined conversation on it on messenger.

2. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand

There’s no easy way of saying this. In fact I am slightly scared saying it, considering the fanatics I know who worship this book and call it life altering. But I couldn’t get through it. In fact, it is probably one of the few books that I have chucked away physically because I couldn’t stand it. (Another one which comes to mind is Alcott’s Good Wives which gnawed away on all that was special and precious in Little Women but for the record I finished it and wrote an alternate version of it and my mind rests easy on that account.) Getting back, I don’t really know what it was that pissed me off about the book. It disgusted me for some reason, and I take solace on what someone told me about Ayn Rand’s books. You either love them or hate them. There’s no middle ground. I doubtless fall in the latter category and all the purported wisdom of the books is lost on me. Such is life.

3. Cyclops by Clive Cussler

I don’t remember much of the very little that I managed to read of this. I am not a big fan of the Cold War books – “must stop the Evil KGB” kinda lost its charm after the first few dozen books I read in that genre. (One of the really tongue in cheek lovely pieces set in the Cold War period that I really like is a short science fiction piece by Michael C Clarke featuring bumbling Floridian bureaucrats, fake icebergs, and Russian spy ships but that’s obviously another story altogether). Anyways, I vaguely remember something about the Russians in this one. That wasn’t, however, the reason I stopped. There was something about a colony on the moon, which I am totally okay with. But this colony was called Jersey Colony and I just stopped reading after that, because I don’t care if you decided to name it after the State or the cows but after all the awesome names we’ve come up with for astronomical objects, if you are going to have a colony on the moon don’t you dare call it something so very bland! (And this is coming from someone who was completely okay with Planet Bob in Titan A.E! I have a sneaking suspicion that the fact that it came out in Matt Damon’s voice made it seem like a really good idea at that point of time. )

4. The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy

I had read a lot of Hardy back to back by then. I read Return of the Native, I read Tess of D’Urbervilles, I read A Pair of Blue Eyes, and then I got to The Mayor of Casterbridge. And what can I say, except my will gave out. I am not against unhappy endings per se; sometimes I am appalled by the saccharine sweet endings that are cooked up in books (coughharrypottercough). Perhaps Hardy captures life, as it is in some… most cases, but I couldn’t bear the gloom and doom, okay? My very simpleton needs for some hope and happiness reasserted themselves and I abandoned the book before the really gloomy bits began.

5. This Book I Began But Sadly Could Not Finish

This one I really regret. I was taken to one of my relatives’ home, and as my mum and the aunty gossiped their way into the Guinness books, I sat dour faced while my equally unhappy near aged relative fiddled with her thumbs, yawned and generally wished me long lost and staying that way. At last, desperate for some sort of escape, she sighed and said: would you like to see our books? What can I say? I am sure she had nightmares of the unholy gleam that filled my eyes at the statement.

So I got escorted to what I have to admit was a decent hoard of books and because I had no pretensions (and because really how much longer could my mum gossip?) I chose a thin volume of something, which I have but a vague memory of. Sometimes I think it was a play. Sometimes I think otherwise. It had a girl who was engaged to an unscrupulous jerk of an officer, and there was some rebellious individual who barged into her rooms at night. I know it sounds nearly too overdramatic and reeks of the romantic bug but I remember thinking the girl was pretty cool and level headed. Sadly I got dragged away before I could get much further. Years later, when I was dragged back there, I lurked around trying to find the book, but I was bitterly unsuccessful. Even my desperate attempts to get my near aged relative to divulge the name of the book proved fruitless because, get this, she couldn’t remember! As if! If that isn’t part of some devious dastardly plot to…do something, colour me Purple!

Then again, I sometimes think that it’s a good thing that I never finished it. What if, I had hated it? For now, I am okay with the undone memory of the book in my head. I’ve even nearly forgiven that near aged relative. Because there is something in thinking that someday I will chance upon the book again and I’ll get to read it. It’s just one of the countless things to look forward to in life.

Awful

I was going to crib about the A-awful exam paper I wrote. About how I messed it up, and messed it up badly! I was going to crib about how Awful I felt after the exam, that I didn’t even feel the sickening high that comes post depressive paper where amidst cheery pop music you decide that you are going to do better the next time. I was going to crib about how I just curled up after that on my bed drinking way too much Lemon Tang and watching back to back episodes of Gossip Girl (Sympathy T.V anyone?) and how I woke up late today with no work done and one hell of a lemon tang – gossip girl combined hangover…going Ugh…Ugh…Ugh

But my darling mum just called to tell her wayward child how utterly she does not care if the said child screwed up her paper and she can hardly wait to have her wayward daughter back home so that she can fill her up with family gossip and home cooking.

I’ve got three more awful papers to go and three more awful study sessions to go with them and I am just dreading it. But I know it’s going to be okay and that’s a start.

___________________________________________________________________

Ps: Oh and Gossip Girl…Yeah…I like Chuck…That’s Right…Chuck! There is something fundamentally wrong in saying that out loud. I am victim of the bad boy act. Sigh.

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Now playing: Death Cab for Cutie – The Sound of Settling
via FoxyTunes

Incidents of Inconsequentiality

 

 

 

                                                              He was middle aged, probably a little younger than my dad, wearing a badly crumpled blue shirt and cream pants. He’d buttoned the shirt right into his neck and it looked like the buttons would pop if he so much as took a deep breath. Short, balding and utterly tragic.  Not by his appearance, mind you, but simply by what he did for a living.

 

                                                            He was the Frequently Asked Question answering living breathing version of a popular legal website. He was part of the standard package – a default option. The university prescribes to our website we send our representative to explain the intricacies of using it to you. The problem of course arises as there aren’t any real intricacies – it is a search tool. How hard could it be? And so the few who turned up for the demonstration were the odd stragglers – the one who’d been bribed into attending with the promises of plates of Maggie or a free coke.

 

                                                                   And the point is the website was as alien to him, as it would be for any first time user. In the sense, he had never actually used it for any real reason. He’d probably been given a crash course on How to Instruct On How to Use the Legal Website and send out to meet the pack of hyenas.

 

 

                                                So there he was, sincere in his efforts to explain how to use the website to a group of people who could care less. People messaging, laughing, staring off into space, looking at their watches; We weren’t actually being rude on purpose, it was just so useless that no one could even fake interest.

 

                                         And you could see, that he got that too. That no one really cared about what he was saying, that he could probably slip in a verse of how the optimum way to use the website was when one was naked and no one would even blink. It was sad, to watch him, stuttering at the sight of blank faces, desperately pleading for questions in the cold silence. It was sad that this poor middle-aged man had to do such a thankless job.

 

I am not trying to sound high and mighty, like some better off individual who is looking down at the lesser mortals and trying to analyse their position. In fact it was one of those days …just after you’d been bested out of something and were feeling blue anyways, that this demonstration happened. And I guess what I felt for that total stranger with his crumpled blue shirt and cream pants applied to me at the point…

It  sucks to be inconsequential .

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Now playing: west life – coast to coast
via FoxyTunes

Make Love To Me forever alternatively Filling the Gaps

It isn’t that I haven’t had things to write about; life in fact has been a little too full. Every now and then i would write something and then two days later, i’d find some fault with it and delete it. After a while, i just stopped writing and yet i had so much to say… I can’t just begin now; I need to fill the gap and what better way than the randomest post of them all…So here goes.

Rules:
1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write the name of the song no matter what. No cheating!

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY?

“Tales of Brave Aphrodite” by Velocity Girl.

um, right. Let’s just try and pretend that this actually has to be taken seriously. So, someone asks : “is this okay?” and really i don’t think it is; except because it is me and because I am such a passive doormat, I just say “whatever! tales of brave aphrodite!” which actually makes some sort of sense. I mean she is the awesomely pretty Greek goddess who had to get married to the lame god blacksmith, right? So yeah, I mean they must have asked her if “it was okay?” and she must have said, “yeah whatever,” coz anyways she had Ares as her lover and really now that i have rambled on for so long, i have forgotten the brilliant exposition that i was building in the first place. (some lawyer, huh?) sigh, moving on.

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?

“Carnation” by The Jam

Hmm, loads of petals…hmm layer upon layer, profound dude!

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?

“Be Still My Heart” by The Postal Service

lubdublubdublubdublubdub (official hearts songs if my 12th standard zoology text book is to be believed. )

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?

“Sweet sweet” by Smashing Pumpkins

this is kinda nice…sounds doped but still nice.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?

“Live in Sunshine” by The Rapture

isn’t it everyone’s?

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?

“Always Love” by Nada Surf

snorts, Yeah Right!

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?

“forsythia” by Veruca Salt

My friends think i am a bunch of pansy yellow flowers? I have all the personality of a Carnation? I have too much music that has Flower Names!!!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?

“Love Will Come Through” by Travis

that’s right, dad! I belive in you. So what if I scratched the paint of the side door of your car, the last time you let me drive? I know you’ll let me try, again, somewhere in this millenia … coz dad there are more important things than brand new cars….really …seriously…dad, you still there?

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?

“My Right versus Yours” by The New Pornographers

and I’ll win, damn it!

WHAT IS 2+2?

“The New Year” by Death Cab for Cutie

2+2 = New Year. Not hard to believe, considering the answer to life the universe and everything is 42.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?

“All I want for christmas is you” by Mariah Carey

ha! aha! hahahaha! Deep Secrets Surfacing? no, but seriously, I wouldn’t mind seeing her; she’s at the other side of the continent, and man, i miss rambing on and on. Though, I think she’ll freak if i started singin the song!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?

“Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” by Fall Out Boy

enough said.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?

All I want For Christmas Is you” by Olivia Olsen

I am so not going down there again! ps: I can’t believe I have two versions of the same song…sheesh.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?

“Fairytale of New york” by The Pogues

Hee hee, i think the songs about a pissed drunk man, but hey, I aam just supposed to take the song on the name value, so yeah not a bad thing to be…a fairytale…that could work. Maybe I could like have this wonderful fairytale life in New York! I love this game!

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?

“Santa Baby” by Everclear

shit, I am actually going to be thinking this when i see him the next time. Like I needed something to broaden my goofy grin, great!

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?

“Sunday Shining” by Finley Quaye

cute! (shall not analyse, though)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?

“Believer” by Susanna and The Magical Orchestra

Gods! I am going to have a really cheesy wedding, right?

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?

“I Saw Daddy Singing Santa Clause” by StandStill

I REFUSE TO COMMENT ON THIS ONE. NO COMMENTS, YOU HEAR ME. NO COMMENTS!!!

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?

“Heart and Shoulder” by Heather Nova

be random why don’t you, you stupid windows media player, coudn’t have been more random in the before question eh?

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?

“Christmas with you is Best” by The Long Winters

I am going home for Christmas, so that’s okay enough. I might just not uninstall you, windows media player!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?

Punk Rock Christmas by Sex Pistols

Hee Hee, Bloody Appropriate!

WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?

Make Love To Me Forever by Snow Patrol

you think? I am sure the stats for this post are gonna be high, if I put it under that!

So, that’s that. As you can see, apart from the flower songs, christmas fills my thoughts. AHA! I know what I am going to write about in my next post…Christmas and the weird reasons why I love this strange alien festival.

This exercise has been good for me, try it. You’ve been tagged!

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Now playing: Pierre Henry – Psyché Rock
via FoxyTunes