I like to be gone most of the time.

It feels like I've forgotten how to write. Or read seriously, for that matter. And since I am currently inarticulate, I can't express just how big a tragedy that is.

I was in Pune a couple of weeks ago. Fun was had. My cousin has not so recently acquired a ridiculously cute looking daschund pup, called Coffee. Look at her, the sweet little thing.

 She hated me. At least, I think she did. After the first day of loving shyness, she attacked my knees every time I went to my cousin's place. *Sigh* I wonder what she smelled on me. Or my jeans.

In other, quite random, news, a friend wondered about Hippo. Why would anyone market a snack as healthy and baked, and then call it Hippo? (she said) Turns out Hippo cares about our hunger :|

 I'm not too fond of monsoon. Mostly because of the rain. And the humidity. And those days when a cab ride that should take ten minutes, takes forty. So you're claustrophobic and nauseous and bored.

To conclude, not that I had much to say, on 2nd July 2010, for reasons best known to myself, I looked like this.

A very epic day that was. 

SNam is in Bombay and I am initiating her. Well, somewhat. Today, I took her to the foodgasmic wonder that is Theobroma. Next week, we shall tackle the Western Railway. And the suburbs. More chocolatey goodness. And then I'll have stuff to write about.

Cheerio.

Mascate

Clean roads.

Half empty streets at 10 am, then again, this city wakes up early.

Solitude.

Did I mention clean? And bright? And sunny?

Empty, so drastically empty.

Meeting the friends was awesome, I went to school. No one except Chikki knew I was in town. So I got a whole bunch of :

"What're you DOING here?"

"Oh my GAWWWWD"

*Startled looks*

"your HAIR!"

Quite surprisingly, people seem to have missed me. And not just my heroes, or my teammates. Even the wonderful people whose bras I have messed with, seem to genuinely have missed me.

As Chikki says "people seem to like you this time round"

Huh.

Thin girls hate mirrors too

A skinny girl in a department store will sigh

"Everything's too large, nothing in my size"

To the kids section maybe they must go

But to the innocence there, they'll say no.

Fat girls will look into mirrors

With mind, chiselling away flabby horrors

Thin girls sigh at the angles

At stick arms that can't even support bangles

Clothes as tight as can be

Padded bras to show there's something to see

Anything to stimulate a hint of curves

Yes, our skinniness gets on our nerves

Everyone knows them guys like curvy girls

36-24-36 is what we aspire to be

To gain weight we chomp on cheese curls

Oh screw the guys, lets love me for me

-Skinny Chick.

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A stupid little something I wrote during the seminar on Saturday. I like the idea behind it, even though the poesie itself is crap.

Thank me later

How I Met Your Mother Season 5 Episode 1, for those who haven't already seen it.

http://www.himymepisodes.com/season-5/season-5-episode-1-definitions

you're welcome.

Epiphanies

Those who know me will know that I'm not the biggest fan of organised religion, or even religion as a whole. I'm not atheist, but God, to me, is kinda formless. I don't even give it a name....

I've almost always shied away from poojas. When I've gone, I've always been in another room, playing with the other kids around. I haven't attended a pooja or a satsang in more than two years.

So I wasn't too pleased when my aunt, who I currently live with in Bombay, decided to drag me to a neighbour's place for a Ganpati pooja thingy. I sat awkwardly for a good half hour, right in the front, as others around me chanted, some mantras known, some alien.

Even the 7 year old kid next to me knew exactly what to do.

All I did was admire the decoreations and the pure white orchids used. Yeah, I checked, they were real.

And in the middle of all the noise and the chaos, my mind throwing up random bull, I looked into the compassionate eyes of the idol...and I had a conversation with Lord Ganesha.

Naah, it was probably the deluded mental diarhhea.

'Enjoying this, are you?', I asked the object of worship.

'YES!', he replied.

'But seriously dude,' I say, 'Why do people go through so much trouble for you anyway when you'd be just as happy even if they didn't?'

'Because,' and I could almost see a grin very familiar to me from somewhere else, 'I'm AWESOME.'

Frustration

Courtesy www.xkcd.com

*Koff koff* .... Can it be...?

Slowly but quite surely, the paranoia is reaching Bombay.

Meanwhile, Dadar Station (central side) has a new aquisition!

:D

Urgh.

I woke up yesterday morning on a blue mattress in the bedroom of Ani's flat. Turned to see Ani fast asleep next to me. How'd I get there? Last I remembered was the living room.....

Ani's surprise 21st birthday party was something we'd been planning for a while. It didn't end up exactly as we'd hoped it would...mainly because she had no idea and had invited everyone for a sleepover the next day. Silly girl.

But yeah, when she showed up, there were 7 of us there, and 21 gifts arranged in the middle of the room. And yeah, she was pretty surprised. And happy. And a wee bit sentimental.


More people showed up later....After she'd inspected all her gifts, and hugged everyone, and been sentimental. We had music, we had people, and we had champagne. And later, rum. And a LOT of biriyani.

It was a good party, yeah. We played 'I never'. And laughed a lot.

And I woke up yesterday morning with the worst headache ever. Staggered out into the living room to see the others who'd slept over....And I was told the stories of the night before.

Conclusion: Myst will stick to two drinks. No more. I don't think anyone who was there is ever gonna let me have ANY anyway.

Many hours later, most of which I slept through, I was relatively better. I will hopefully never be in that state again, because it does NOT feel nice. At all.
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Annie Sharma, I love you very very much indeed. Also, Jai, Nikhil, Aaku, thanks.

Happy Easter!

And this is one of the reasons why I bought a chocolate egg yesterday instead of a bunny.
Cadbury Creme egg, in case you're wondering.
Happy Easter!

Countdown.

10 days. 10. T-E-N. Seems unreal.

"We're so screwwed!!" Vagi whisper-screamed at me in math tuts.
"Be positive!" I mutter back. Somehow, calming others down helps me. temporarily.
She gives me a look.
"No, I'm A positive."
So now my bad humor streak has bitten her too.

Or it's probably exam stress that makes Jan and Vagi laugh at even the worst of my jokes. But hey, it keeps me happy, so I ain't complaining.
Peace out, study on.

Not the best beauty aid.........

Ok, I don't know if i've blogged about this before.....i probably have....but this one REALLY takes the cake.
In this time of daily study-related stress, I need a good laugh everyday. So I read the Mumbai Mirror.
More specifically, I read the 'ask the sexpert' column in the Mirror. Every single day.
You get the usual genuine questions about contraceptives and anal and all, but Friday's paper took the cake.

Q: I am 21 years old. I have heard that semen is good for a one's complexion. Should I use it daily, will there be any side effects?
A: Will you open a semen bank, since you will not have unlimited supply? If it was true, I am sure the beauty experts would have introduced it under an exotic name.

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For the record, todays chem paper was quite ok. I don't have to give anymore of third prelims. So now it's study all the way.
Now reading: just finished A Thousand Splendid Suns, for the second time.
Now wanting to watch: Dev D. desperately.
Now listening: Emotional atyachar, rock version obv.

Groundbreaking proofs 2

In November, I posted S's almost flawlwss proof for why god is a woman.

"Listen up", Jan said. "He's got a proof now for why God is a man. Though he'll probably kill me if you post it."
Thus, of course, I'm posting it.
THe proof goes thus:

Consider rain to be the pee of God.
It doesn't rain everywhere at once, does it? Thus, rain is direction-specific.
Men can ain while they pee. Thus men's pee is direction specific.
Thus, God is a man.

To this, my (flawed) contradiction.

Let rain be the tears of God. Let cloudy days = bad mood of God.
Rain falls unexpectedly and erratically. When you're expecting it to fall, there's always a dark sky.
Women cry unexpectedly and erratically. When you know they're gonna cry, they're always in a bad mood.

Hence, God is a woman.

We're so jobless na?
Even better than our theo-gender theories is Rushi's theory, which if true, makes life very very sad.

See anything?

To those who've commented.....
i see no cat. what cat????
what i do see is a cheap calvin klein rip off called oK one. ANd that, to me, is FUNNY.

Groundbreaking proofs

The usual banter in Math class.
"I'll give you proof that God's a woman", he said.
We lean forward, attentive.
"See, women tend to complicate things, right? Look at the human body. It's composed of things like carbohydrates and amino acids and proteins, so wonderfully complex and all. Only a woman could hav done that. A man, he'd just have made some juice or something. Hence proved."
Thanks, S.

Right. The funny thing is, that kinda makes sense.
Other convos with this friend include "About sexy legs". Might be posted later.

Bizarro!!

Dan Piraro is almost pure genius, Butt-kicking almost everything. The first one here is a real favourite of mine.



After the Dark Knight and the Joker.....I think this is not as uncommon as before...

Edit: For those who didn't get the Van Gogh one....

Many think that Van Gogh cut his ear off from depression after his lady love left him. The actual answer, I find on Answerbag.com

In December the two artists (Van Gogh and Paul Gaugin) visited Montpellier and viewed works by Courbet and Delacroix in the Museé Fabre. However, their relationship was deteriorating badly. They quarrelled fiercely about art. Van Gogh felt an increasing fear that Gauguin was going to desert him, and what he described as a situation of "excessive tension" reached a crisis point on December 23, 1888, when Van Gogh stalked Gauguin with a razor and then cut off the lower part of his own left ear, which he wrapped in newspaper and gave to a prostitute named Rachel in the local brothel, asking her to "keep this object carefully."[59] Gauguin left Arles and did not see Van Gogh again. Van Gogh was hospitalised and in a critical state for a few days. He was immediately visited by Theo (whom Gauguin had notified), as well as Madame Ginoux and frequently by Roulin

To be precise, it was the lobe of his left ear which he put into anenvelope and gave to a brothel wench named Rachel with these words: "Guard this object carefully." After he tried to drink a quart of turpentine in his studio, he was sent to the asylum at Saint-Remy on May 7, 1889. The doctors began to treat him with hydrotherapy for acute mania and epilepsy. A precise diagnosis of Van Gogh's illness is still unavailable,despite hundreds of conjectures. We do know a few facts:Van Gogh suffered from syphilis contracted from prostitutes off the docks at Antwerp; there was also a history of mental illness in his family. Some physicians now believe Van Gogh may have had a congenital brain lesion that was aggravated by absinthe.

He speaks!!

He would be our principal. Who has a penchant for giving speeches of epic proportions.
Today we started school. Today the new building opened. And today I sang a lot.

So yeah, we had an assembly in the new-big-beautiful hall....and we knew we were doomed when the princi came up to the lectern, with no respect whatsoever, the 1000-odd kids there groaned audibly.
And with good reason.
I'm suppose the guy gives inspiring speeches. I don't know for sure, because I've never heard them. The problem, you see is that he's not inspiring enough, to inspire us to actually listen to his speeches.
So today's was, I think, something about our school's spectacular board results, and an ex-ISM girl who got a Fullbright scholarship to Harvard business school, etc, etc, etc, How we must all work very hard etc etc etc, and the rest was just sound on my eardrums. No registering.
He droned on and on, with no track of time....Time came back, when suddenly the bell rang. The bell that signaled the end of first period. Which, btw, is SUPPOSED to be AFTER assembly. Yeah, the bell rang, during his discourse.
And he still didn't stop.
That takes the cake and the ice-cream and the after-dinner-mint.
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I hate obvious questions.And statements. Questions like....."Oh my God your hair's red!!"
or "whoa, you coloured your hair?!?"
Yeah, no, it coloured it self. whaddya expect? Or, no, the stylist did it. I don't do my own hair.
And yes, I have braces. Those aren't blue food particles on my teeth that you see.
irritants.