2011 and its bullet points

This year was such a sine wave, it makes me laugh...in retrospect. But this time I knew I don't have to mope around every time I hit a rough patch (barring some alcohol that needed to be consumed for a few weeks in between to get sleep) 'cause sometimes you need to hit a new low to reach a new high. So I smiled through the shit and saw me make peace with myself.

I learned some real simple things from this year.

a) You can't make another person happy till you're happy yourself. Your depressed self will only push people away.
b) No one is responsible for your happiness but your own self. Don't depend on others to contribute, they're working towards their own happiness.
c) Speak your mind, if you have good reason. You'll regret it if you don't.
d) Don't wait to do what you've been wanting to since forever. This will contribute to point b :)

The best thing to happen to me this year was Scarlet, my piano. (And the guy who made me miserable enough to lead me to it, so thanks) I've met a lot of people who've been wanting to take dance lessons, foray into theater, go to cookery schools and what not. Trust me, when you finally start, the "logical" reasons you've been giving yourself to not start, they all look like silly excuses. Magically, you will have all the time in the world to pursue your interest. DON'T WAIT. You have no idea how much joy you are denying yourself.

Obvious, weren't they? Yeah, try implementing them :)

Have an even better 2012 y'all. And let's hope we don't die.

Crash and Burn

A poem from March '08.
***

Alter ego like an unwanted conjoined twin
Ocean of empty tears filled up to the brim
Eyes pleading with forces of nature to let you in
Tragicomedy chose me; today they're out on a limb!

Where do I make a Z with my sword?
Stabbing searing memories not ready to blur
Contemptible thoughts you thankfully never heard
'Friends' for lack and prohibition of a better word

Since when did lying become second nature
Or writing your name a thousand times on invisible paper?
Don't return the love from my one last letter
At best it would feel worse than anything better

Hey! Let's make a neat mess of it all
As you strangle my heart up against the wall
The only thing I can say with an immovable jaw
You came you saw, you came you saw...

No One Must Know

You sit and deliberate

create a lattice of lies

a mask to hide your vapid life

but no one must know.

I know what you had for breakfast

I know what colors you wear today

I even know your opinion on all current affairs...

little appreciation leading to a lot of well articulated chide

to push forth your fake heresy.

I know What's On Your Mind

but do I know for real?

Is this seemingly idyllic existence dangerous

or unveils to have a greater appeal?

The truth is

you're miserable, unpopular,

ugly, a wannabe hipster,

an ignorant thought bubble,

sometimes even bipolar.

The people who know you

wish they didn't,

the people who don't know you

wish they did

How wonderfully delectable is your photoshopped life

but no one must know.

Baby, all I want for Christmas is an intelligent, good-looking boy

The other day I was just "reviewing" the men I've been with. And strangely, one thing really stood out...I've never been with a single good-looking guy!

Now now, I don't mean to sound shallow and if you really ask me, my choice in men has already proven I'm not. The truth is that intelligence has completely and utterly masked their below-average looks, and I've been fine with that. Though it's a running joke with my friends that I only date top management school graduates (which is purely coincidental and only partly true), I like to think that the B-school education is just a CV point to guarantee a minimum intelligence-cutoff required to keep me interested. However, this should not ward off potential suitors. I'm not so rigid about B-schools, you could be from the IITs or NLSs of the world too.

Dating somebody purely on the basis of their looks, without having any assurances of intelligence, can put one in a tight spot too. Gauging a person's intelligence takes a little time. And after all that if you realize he is stupid, you will still feel obligated to continue seeing him 'cause by that time you're on slightly friendly terms. Then the whole "You give a finger, he'll take the whole hand" thing will happen. Your hints at withdrawal might even become life-threatening if the guy in question is a Punjabi from West Delhi.

Back in 2003, I had just gone through a break up with my now-ex (second of the seven we had in our 6 years. Yes, I counted) and I found this one guy in my college very attractive. After all the googly-eyeing and texting from my mom's phone, we started seeing each other. It was all very hunky dory till the physical distance went from being a corridor to sitting right next to each other. Then it struck me. Up close, the guy was slightly squint and had bucked teeth. Suddenly his Nick Carter-esque hairstyle looked like a tactic to hide future alopecia. But the ultimate dealbreaker was him saying a casual MBA kar lenge when I asked him about his life ambitions and what he wants to do after completing engineering. But I continued to see him, till 5th February arrived and he slapped me outside my classroom, only to giggle and tell me it was Slap Day.  The threshold had now been broken. The following day saw me breaking up over the internet for the first time in my life. All hail Rebounds. Thankfully the ex was right there, with open arms and no judgment.

But you also don't necessarily want to introduce a meh-looking guy to your friends and family. Let's take the example of my ex. I started crushing on him from the moment I first laid eyes on him. He looked like a free-spirited, fun and genuine person. It was only later that I questioned my reasons to be crushing on a guy who wasn't good looking by any measure. In the past, all my crushes had been no less than heartthrobs and it was no secret that the better looking our future kids were in my head, the harder I was crushing on the guy. So this one confused me to no end. I told myself Perhaps, love *is* blind...Wait! Woah! Is this love? But during our first year together, I was scared to bump into my friends when with him (he doesn't know this). But then again, the prospect of my kids being Newton-like seemed like a much better idea.

Basically, I don't want to have this conversation again with my best buds (not about my ex):

"Thank god you stopped dating the dude, he was funny-looking."

"Not that it would've mattered, but why didn't you say anything before?"

"Well...you seemed really smitten with him for some strange reason"

Look, I'm not asking for a Ranbir Kapoor lookalike (Sigh!). All I ask for is a guy whose face I can hold between my hands and say "You look so good, it hurts" or "Gawwd, you're so hot! Not what you're doing to the bod but just you. I'm going to allow my heart to skip a beat now" And yes, I want the brains too. That's the hygiene factor-cum-prerequisite. Also, a funny bone. No, I'm not asking for three different men.

P-p-p-poker face p-p-poker facebook

It's a fine lazy day. All you want to do is sit with your laptop and sink lower and lower in your bed. Maybe catch a few embarrassing episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. You decide to check facebook before proceeding to laptop-tv viewing. You open your facebook page and see a notification. Ah! The pretty red thing. You are happy. Somebody thought of you. A world full of possibilities has just opened up! A friend might have tagged you in a picture where you look very hot. 10 people "like" your status, that you came up with after much deliberation. That cute new boy accepted your friend request and now facebook is encouraging you to "Write on his Wall"

You promptly click on it! But there it is, in your face!

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO WITH A "POKE"?

Listen, I have nothing against you, I just don't know what I'm expected to do. If you were a guy atleast my narcissistic self would think you want to make fraaaaanship with me and then some. Why do you want to Poke me? Do you even realize you have just destroyed my hopes and dreams of making babies with that cute boy? DO YOU!

You remember the time when we were new on facebook and wanted to do everything it offered? Write on walls, take all possible quizzes, update status twice a day, and Poke? Yeaaahhhh, I NEVER poked. At no point of time did I understand what it was for.

I hate touchy feely people. I can't stand it when people standing next to me put their elbow on my shoulder as if I'm some brick wall they're supporting their body against or when they randomly wrap their arm around mine. It feels exactly what it looks like - that tiny finger coming to get you! It's as much a physical intrusion as a real touch is. There needs to be a process wherein before you Poke it should send a notification for approval "This user wants to Poke you. Do you accept?" The thing is still sitting lying there as a constant source of irritation everytime I open my facebook, mocking me, Poking me.

Please excuse me, for Poking you back would go against the basic grain of my personality. It's like an elbow nudge when you're teasing someone when their crush is around or pinching them on their birthday. That is so middle school and I didn't even do it in middle school! I really like you but I won't Poke you back. It's kinda lame. Maybe I was too friendly with you the only time that we've met. It's just that I'm super awesome with strangers and I was also really...really drunk. So forgive me, I understand I might've infact come across as a fellow Poker/Pokemon.

Wasn't there a Pillow Throwing app on fb? See, now that's more like my style! :D

Double a crossed stick

Giant fliers spewed, they clasp
administered for impact media
uninteresting forgettable clutter
reaching eyes of fine suburbia
an attempt to destroy this drab
vain...!

I was just cleaning out my room a few days ago and found this scribbled on a small sheet of paper. This is from when I was thinking about you during a hopeless Market Research class in Feb/March '09. One of my favorites, it's like a personal joke I share with myself! Look very closely, the clue is in the title.

Another post for purging purposes. Don't expect any more...starting now.

You've been BLOCKED!

I’ll get straight to the point. Being blocked and blocking others from your social networking is not easy. Being blocked is pure humiliation. Blocking someone means you need to take great care that the process is rather inconspicuous.

There are various reasons why blocking is the biggest thing since the Metallica concert got canceled in Gurgaon:

a) I added you on chat/facebook purely out of courtesy and seeing you online makes me reach for the Invisible mode because I fear you might just ping me one of these days. As a result, the person I am crushing on can’t see me online either and won’t ping me. (I can’t ping him, that’s too desperate!)

b) You irritate the fuck out of me. You make the worst small talk and tell me how you’ve always had a huge crush on me/want me to forward your Resume to my company/updating me on your life when I clearly don’t care. Five minutes into the conversation I wish to tell you “Great! I get it! Please stop! I really need to get back to work. GOOD-FUCKING-BYE. You make me hate social networking!”

c) Your status updates are an eyesore. You check-in from every place imaginable. You boast about having met celebrities. You even have pictures to support the claim. You’re not trying to talk to me, you’re trying to get *me* to talk to *you*. Frankly my dear, I neither give a damn about what you ate for breakfast nor am I interested in questioning you about what went wrong when you post vague status updates like “If only…”. You might be a nice person who only requires some external validation but it ain’t comin’ from me, dawg. You hath been blocketh!

d) You are downright creepy. You like all my statuses, links, pictures I added, pictures I was tagged in. And the only time I spoke to you in my life was when you & I were in engineering college and I asked you why the library was shut that day. You redefine “disconcerting”

e) You are my parent and I couldn’t say No to your friend request ‘cause you kept pestering me to add you.

f) We had a massive fallout. We broke up/fought over something and now you want to prove a point. “You are not important enough anymore. Just seeing you online cramps my style. I’m afraid you’ll read into my status updates and think it’s about you. It’s not.”

g) We had a massive fallout and I can’t stand the fact that your status updates indicate no signs of major mindfucking upheavals, it only looks like you’ve resumed your daily routine without as much as an “FML” or lyrics from a heartbreakingly sentimental song which should obviously be directed towards me, and here I am posting article links to “Ways to get over an earth-shattering breakup”

You remember the time it took you three whole months to delete that guy from your facebook? You blocked on Gtalk that girl, who lead you on for months, and unblocked her back the same day, about 5 times a day? Your obsession got to a point where even *you* knew it was unhealthy. Your mouse pointer got tired of hovering over “Remove from friends” and told you one day to Just Do It! And with a click, your entire world came crashing down.

You (after having walked over to your friend’s room with tears rolling down your face): I deleted him from my facebook.
Friend: Who? Oh.
You: I don’t know what to live for anymore. I can’t see his wall! His smiling face in his pictures! His funny status messages! His current favorite song!
Friend: You’re a psycho.
You: *howling*
Friend: There there. The worst is over.

Limited profiles are the worsht only! Don’t add me if you’re afraid I’ll see something you don’t want me to see! I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING MOM. Why would you hide your friends list? You think I’d go to your “’In a relationship with "girlfriend name"’ and message her “Your bf drunk-texted me the lyrics to Sexy Bitch last night. Maybe you need to keep him on a tight leash”?

360 degree blockage (Gtalk/facebook/BBM/limited blog access/locked Twitter account etc) from somebody’s social networking is a real life equivalent of a restraining order. Congratulations! You have displayed enough psychotic behavior for being slapped on one. You can now go and boast it to your friends - You are officially a badass.

You know you are...

You know you are drunk when you chug an entire bottle of red wine, barf in the WC, stick your head in the pot and go "Oooooh scarlet puke! *burp* Pweety pweety. *burp* Smells kinda funny heehee! Must share with friends on fb!"

You know you haven't been laid in a while when every where you turn you look at mens' ass and crotch [Or "You know you work for a male dominated company when..."] What replays in your head is that scene from What Women Want where Mel Gibson listens in on Helen Hunt's thoughts. EPIC.

You know you're a Joey when your colleague has a slip of tongue & instead of saying 'banner' says 'boner' and tears come out of your eyes 'cause you're trying so hard to hold your laughter.

Also, 

You know you're a Joey when a friend uses "Bone of contention" in a sentence and you forget what the entire conversation was about.

You know you are a total phoney when you're wearing formals, acting prim and propahh in the Delhi Metro and blasting I wanna be bad on your ipod early in the morning, hoping people around will think you're listening to Flowers in the window

You know your MBA education loan interest rate is always on your mind when you are ready to hold your future baby in your damn uterus till you know for sure it's going to be the 8 billionth baby born to the world and would be eligible to get free education for life.

You know you have a mental age of 16 and not 26 when you do all of the above.

Yeh saali zindagi

Bhenchod, life saali weird hai. 

Here I was looking forward to watching the F1 qualifying today and I had to run a bloody temperature. It's a good thing I refused Metallica left, right and center because look where that would've gotten me! (Pervy Delhi men + Pervy Gurgaon men = Groping to scar you even in after-life) 

Anyway, we were dining at a restaurant in Noida last night and these people from Virgin Racing technical support were there too. Two old men and two super hot female engineers who my mom thought were cheerleaders. So of course my big fat excited family had to get super excited and my dad being the overenthusiastic chump that he is had to repeat "Welcome to India! Have a great time tomorrow! Welcome to India! Good luck for tomorrow! Do well!" like they're his 14 year old sitting for an exam the next day. It also involved a photosession, by the by. Meanwhile I was sinking lower and lower in my seat. Palm was on the face the whole time, except when I was hogging biryani by the dozen. And so now I have a stomach upset and fever. (I've realized one can blame the family for absolutely everything that goes wrong in one's life)

If I haven't told you enough - Nidz, you're a fantastic friend. I'm warning you ahead of time that you're gonna be my 3am buddy buds for the next couple of weeks. And thanks for convincing me I'm super awesome and humoring me when I have my "I don't know what to live for!" moments. An encore would be required every night till I ask you to stop. One day we will live together and keep a talking parrot. And teach it to abuse in a few languages. Then we'll be the crazy parrot ladies with stellar careers profiled on afaqs! Same goes for Vasu, plus the shopping, minus the parrot.

My laptop is making sounds like a diesel engine's. Rumble rumbly, like my tummy. If the Dewarists have taught me anything, it is to sample every strange sound you hear so that it can be used to create music. I'm guessing laptop fan sound isn't one of them. Stomach even more so.

****

If I didn't have work I would've probably gone insane. That's possibly the strangest realization I've had in the longest time. My first year at work started off with a bang and was going bust with the appraisal approaching. What I had to learn was how to basically "get work done, faster" and that was gonna happen if I screamed at my creative agency people loud enough. I was the one they called if they wanted the deadline to be extended - the nice accommodating fuck that I am. Only I knew what was going to be unleashed if I let myself go.

Then I let myself go.

Now I'm dreaded for my monologues. I have to say, not being on stage for close to a year has made me crave performing so much, this screaming business is quite an outlet! So now they'd rather just get my work done soon enough than see my name flash on their phone every half hour. 

Hold it, is it keeping me from going insane or making me insane? Hahaha!

*Humblebrag alert*

But overall work life is definitely getting awesomer by the day. I mean when the VP Marketing himself asks you specifically to join a workshop with him, it couldn't be more overwhelming. Either they love my inputs or they're entertained every time I'm in a meeting. In the last meeting I told the french director of my upcoming television commercial if he could use a green screen and do the rest in post prod. He got up and said "You have ze director right heeeaaa, what ya need me fau?" And then the rest of the afternoon he kept taking jabs at me and winking at me. My bosses were having a field day. I even got entry into the senior management huddle! I've become one of the men \m/ Yusss yusss! I've also started using the Serious Voice.

What a sweet old french man. Francois. I can say his name all day. Fron-soo-aaa.

What really bothers me is that most people don't understand what I do, including me sometimes. I mean, I'm the Brand Manager for 5 motorcycle brands. How exactly am I contributing to society? I'm not a doctor saving lives, an engineer (technically I am) creating world class infrastructure and technology innovations, a teacher who is the foundation of everything good. I sell bikes, which leads to petrol being used, putting pressure on the environmental resources. What little meaning my whole career has! Everyday I need to convince myself that my product is making life easier for a few people, my brand is giving them the self esteem they need to feel proud of themselves and measure their accomplishments with. 

An interesting conversation on the related topic:

Me: Sir (to my piano teacher), my very first commercial is on tv!

Teacher: Really? Wow. Did you make it?

Me: No, that's the production house's job.

Teacher: So did you write the script?

Me: No, that's the ad agency's job.

Teacher: Then what was your role?

Me: I dunno...I arranged meetings? *gulp*

I had an idea, I've learnt quite a few pieces on my piano and I'm really craving an audience. Would you mind me putting a video at the end of each post? Won't be more than a minute long, I promise!

An Open Letter To The Last Boy

Dear Boy

I've been crushing on the opposite sex since I was 5 years old. FIVE. Now I am almost 27. In the last 21 years I have cried over them for various reasons - they moved away, they liked other girls, they liked other girls and me at the same time but liked them better, but mostly because they did not know I existed.

And you should also know that from that long list (including the ones who have shown their interest in dating me) I've considered only THREE men for, you know, long-haul purposes. So that's 21 years divided by 3...1 guy for every 7 years. Like an admission letter, I am pleased to announce that you have been one of the candidates that made the cut.

So when you chose to let me down...gently...by saying (you perhaps lost interest in me because) I was "too easily pleased" (amongst other perfectly logical reasons), I have to admit, I was quite dumbfounded! Now that I've recovered, I can write this Open Letter because I can't possibly risk anything (barring a little pride)

Dating somebody for two months and considering them for the long haul? Yeah, I guess you're right, I AM too easily pleased.

There's a lot that didn't happen in those months, but there's a lot that did. Like, Gchatting the whole day, leading to endless phone conversations, not to mention text messages that made me smile to no end. You know how they say some pains are good pains? Yeah, that was my jaw for a whole month. My finely cemented walls came crumbling down so fast, I very blushingly embarrassed myself.

Never in my whole life has anyone fussed so much over my birthday! You were restless, trying to figure me out in that short span so you could throw a grand gesture...which you did. I know it wasn't "grand" for you but it was to me, because no one ever did anything like that for me, ever. You could've excluded the cooking and guitar playing, and it would've been just as good.

I shudder to think what bitches your previous girlfriends have been to you that they didn't appreciate your smallest attention to detail. But you clearly liked to be treated that way and not "Look! Here's a girl who's easily pleased. This is great!" I forgot, that after all, you're a guy and nothing is more important than a well-done chase sequence. But babe, I'm 27 and so very tired of games.

The fact that you wanted to get to know me outdoors as much as you wanted to discover me indoors, well that's just wrong! The fact that seeing you care about your family the way you do made me care about mine..well, that's just preposterous! The fact that you didn't want to push me against the wall while making out, because my head could be hit hard, that's just unheard of! The fact that you respect a rickshawwallah, a waiter that fucked up the order and a successful company CEO the same way, I'm sorry that's just inappropriate. I must be dreaming, this "I've learnt so much from you" & "You make me a better person" happens only in movies.

I've met plenty people in my life who are ambitious, talk big, and then present excuses for not doing them (that includes me) I haven't known you for long but I know you will never back down from what you've set out to do, however lofty it all might sound. THAT makes you incredibly hot. When you giggle like a little 10 year old while watching South Park, that just drives me insane with adoration. How could I not have exclaimed to myself "Where was this guy all my life?!?!" The fact that you still somewhere feel guilty about the way things ended with us...well, don't.

You took my imaginary checklist, ticked almost everything in it, scribbled some extra things down, made it into a ball and hit it out of the park. Yes, I was too easily pleased. And I can turn around and say "Hah! Your loss" but from where I see it, it's clearly mine.

But wait...No! I'm NOT too easily pleased. Can't you see? You're just that damn good.

Hello & Welcome

It's a real tragedy that it has been more than three years
I said "I love you" to people who weren't my girlfriends.
There have been a few times my heart was stuck in my throat
throbbing
ready to be spit out
only to have ego sew my lips.

Thank God!
Those "goodbye I love you's" are devastating, aren't they?

I said it a thousand times looking at your picture.
I said it a million times in my head.
And there were times I was thinking out so loud I feared I could be heard.
But that would've been ok.
Atleast I wouldn't have had to look back and think
What if I had put my pride on the line? Should I have risked it?
But my friends were there with big placards that said No! Don't do it! 

It's supposed to be easy with the right person, isn't it?
It should escape the mouth like cigarette smoke?

But if I had said it out loud
and it didn't change anything
what a blow would that have been!
So, even if my jaw were giving up,
I'll let my heart stay stuck in my throat
for as long as it doesn't feel wrong
I'll wait till the time it feels right
the time when it's not a goodbye, but a hello.

Hello. 
Welcome to my life.
I love you. 
Please don't leave me!

Maybe a statement give or take.
And maybe not in that sequence.

No Good Einstein

Nobody's extraordinary
we're all the same
similar moulds with different names
You catch one person in the perfect
another at the worst possible time
some you measure in dollars
others unvalued like dimes.

Everybody's a genius
in their own right
you could have a quiet ambition
just as well be a flamboyant knight
Some get in only a sentence
other more than their designated two cents
so relativity makes some lose
and some win, at each other's expense.

I confess, I'm not extraordinary
I'm cut from the same cloth.
I wake up every morning
to add spices to the same broth.
I have never made any tall claims
I've been rewarded for my goodness
been punished for my share of shame.

I had but one moment of insanity
as against my thousand moments of wise
One day I was at the top of your list
the next I fell in your eyes
I feel sorry for the both of us that you didn't wait to see my genius
and I have to bear the humiliation of being compared to your previous
Why must you be the trigger and I resign to being the bullet?
I only wanted to be the photograph ensconced in your wallet.

I'm just an ordinary genius trying to survive.
And right now I couldn't convince you of anything to save my life.

Cheers darlin'

It is not important how I know
but I know that you couldn't care less
you're perhaps busy making rounds with the woman of your dreams
(or so you keep telling her...and yourself)
making final decisions on table tops
and garlands, gold jewellery and a three tiered cake
and where you will fly later, for nothing but a vacation
from your mundane life
And I wish I could be happy for you,
after three years from when you broke the news to me
in my bed,
instead of chanting "the one that got away, the one that got away"
but thank God, you kept your promise to someone
and frankly, I'm not falling apart here
I would never give you that satisfaction
I just wish it were, infact, about you
and not the general sadness
about how love lost at this age not only finds a new arm candy
but someone who'd perhaps be bound to them for life.

My love, how can I not dedicate a final song to you?
I wish I could be there, singing my dashed hopes to you.
Anyhow, good luck to you and your wife
Here's a toast to the biggest party of your life.

Eat! Play! Love!

So I've been reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. [The title is twisted to make it more customized to me - Eat (which I love), Play (the piano) and Love (which I eat)] I had been avoiding it for the longest time (thinking its chic-lit) till it literally landed in my hands one day and I said "Alright you, let's get you over with" FYI, it's not chic-lit. Not in the derogatory sense at least.

And, as luck would have it, I lost my copy at the Delhi airport on my way to Malaysia. After having made a couple of international calls to the Lost and Found department at T3, the man on the other line sounded almost guilty informing me in the most subtle way "It's gone, get over it!" Then you start to romance the loss by seeing metaphors in the situation like "It wasn't meant to be" or "It's a sign" Troubled by the fact that I actually sat through 50 odd pages of a book, and couldn't just let my efforts go to waste, I bought another copy of it and continued to read with Starbucks and Caramel Macchiato as my caffeinated companions.

Now let me get right down to the point. One line (and there are many statements like that) really struck a chord with me. She writes "When you're learning something new, be very patient", talking of her escapades with trying to grasp the Italian language. I had been struggling with one particular song for a month. I played it day and night but I didn't seem to be making any progress and that was no short of terminally frustrating. The day I read this I thought of applying it, calmed myself down and voila! the very next day I played it correctly from start to finish for the very first time. [Oh if you want to see my play and sing, go here! It ain't great by any measure but I hear it's not too shabby after 8 classes. In fact, the piano playing is better than the vocals :( ]

The one thing that I can't seem to have patience with though are men. It's like you have to climb this huge wall and you're told you can't 'cause, you know, it has been cemented well, smoothed out and whitewashed over and so you bang your head against it to get attention or scream out "Hey, somebody there?" or "Is there a hidden window/door here so I can get to the other side?"

However, the guys say that they are incredibly easy to understand. They say what they mean and they mean what they say. The examples they give you: "'Yes' means 'Yes'", "'No' means 'No'", "'I'm hungry' means 'I'm hungry'", "'You're hot' means 'You're hot'", "'You don't look fat in that dress' could either mean 'You don't look fat in that dress' or "Yeah yeah you look fine. Now don't block the TV, can't you see I'm watching the cricket match (read India lose)?'" What the girl is really looking for is anything but monosyllabic answers. If I were a math teacher and you were to write "Final Answer=91" right after the question, I would ask you to be so kind to show me how you got to that conclusion. So yes, a 'Yes' means 'Yes' (thanks for the honesty) but please tell me why, and so on and so forth.

Somehow when I write something that excites me and I scribble a couple of hundred words out here, I can't manage to close the post without sounding like a total retard. So why go against basic nature, I say. Till next time.

Showers are awesome

I've been leading a rather plateaued existence the past couple of months. As much as I like not being plagued by intense emotions, I like being plagued by intense emotions. Hey, I ain't complaining, but the writing has taken a major hit.

I was in the shower this morning and my mind wandered to 2009 when I started this blog to half use this medium to purge and half to communicate some (or a lot) left unsaid to a particular person. It took me close to 2 years of frantic writing to finally get everything out. My personal long term shrink!

One poem in particular did the rounds in my brain as the water poured down. No specific reason, it's not even a huge personal favorite. A lot of people were misled by the title (which I still feel is quite appropriate) Though I distinctly remember having fun writing it.

Encore? Here you go.

I'm such a bad bad boy 

I stereotype you like I stereotype everyone
They all say I’m cold; you, pretty little thing, have just begun!
Since your actions refuted all that I predicted to hear
I conveniently assume Things are not always as they appear

See how ingeniously I put words in your mouth?
I reassure you of the opposite when you are in doubt
You certainly take non-reciprocation in bad taste!
My feelings that were but only temporarily misplaced

There is too much hurt here and I don’t care for more
Do you realize you sound like a broken record of a repeated folklore?
Why squander away precious time on me when you have so much to look forward to
Ok, try to sing with more heart ‘cause of what I did to you

But your melody swore it would waste no more notes on me
Seriously, did you think I was going to let you off that easily?
I will let you in on a secret - I use people to grow as a writer
And you are important because I will always be your humble debtor

So...how was it?

Ever since my visit to KL, I've been inundated with the same "How was it?" question. So let me start with the concert.

During the first half of the Incubus concert I was just trying to not get killed in the moshpit by the mob, getting pushed and shoved and hit and me coming up from the crowd to breathe in some oxygen that some considerate people spared and then diving back in. I wasn't mentally present for the first FOUR songs! Also, I deliberately chose to wear six inch stilettos so my height wouldn't be to my disadvantage. (Which eventually turned out to be the correct decision) The second half had me finally getting into the groove of the mosh and all I remember is that I was hitting people with my elbow to get a clearer view of Brandon Boyd and singing at the top of my lungs. And those 1-2 seconds when Brandon was looking straight at me and we were mouthing the same words, all I was thinking was "My friends will never believe this when I tell them!"

At the end of the night my T shirt was drenched in sweat - mine and the hundred other people's who I was squeezed in with. My entire body gave up and I collapsed on the floor of the stadium for a good 15 minutes before I could even fathom moving a muscle. After being shooed away, I was walking barefoot on the main road at 11PM, my pumps and Incubus poster in hand, having stepped on some freshly discarded chewing gum, sitting at the bus stop trying to hail a taxi and telling my friend "Who would've thought that we'd be in a foreign country on a Saturday night, terminally exhausted and barefoot after a concert, sitting at a bus stop?" It wasn't fun running a high fever later that night for the next 2 days. The adrenalin rush almost ruined my vacation.

I promised never to attend another concert again unless in a more intimate environment. I hope I forget such a promise made to self.

This obviously was the actual purpose and the highlight of the trip.

Hah! Yeah so one day I went to Petaling Street and there was a guy selling DVDs on the road, he goes "You Indian? You want DVD for DDLJ, Hum Aapke Hain Koun, Kabi Khushi Kabi Nai Khushi." I laughed my butt off (in my head) and responded with a smile. Then he goes "You British or Indian?" Of course this was highly amusing so I had to clear out the confusion regarding my nationality and to let him know that every Indian has seen those movies. He was kinda slick, I felt like I was in Italy being wooed by a local!

I don't consider myself a regular tourist. My aim is never to cover all the tourist locations in the city and have pictures to prove it. I like to get to a place and relax and explore the place at no given pace. Petronas didn't mean as much to me as the cutest little Chinese kid who was furious with his mom and kept screaming right next to me at Starbucks. Or the metro ride where this girl sat on the floor acting like a beggar while her friends laughed, asking her to get up.

But the best part was receiving zero phone calls from the office and that I could finally hear the voices in my head. They were telling me I have a pretty good life and I don't justify it by the amount I crib. You want to know why?

I had written this post last year Jan called "Resolution for the decade"

*******
Eh I don't think my plan will fit in a year so I thought a decade should be enough. Here goes the multi-step process.

a) Get a job in Mumbai
b) Take up music seriously
c) Work hard, get some gigs and get famous (Hopefully a few years from now when you search my name on Google, it won't throw up results such as 'architect trial')
d) Land an international gig (or just enough money to travel to an Incubus concert)
e) Sleep around with a few backstage people to get me to meet Brandon Boyd
f) Really click it with him in the first meeting so he invites me to some party
g) Go to the party
h) Date rape him
i) Get pregnant
j) Extract child care support
k) Have his babies who would sing, write, read Carl Jung, play the didjeridoo and paint, and of course have killer looks

OK let's do the math. If I get done each process in a year, but of course combining steps e, f, g, h and i, I could get this done in about 7 years. Yeah, sounds about right.
**********

I've more or less accomplished points b and d. We all know e to k ain't happening :) So I'm patting myself on the back.

I have another travel post coming up - that one's a little morbid. Or maybe not.

Nice guys finish last

While we were parting

he hugged me and said

We are too similar 

we won't work.

******************

While we were parting

he kissed me and regretfully informed

We are too different

we won't work.

******************

I remember a boy from way back

when I didn't know how to love

and how to make it last

I declared

We don't stand a chance,

we're completely different people.

He sat me down and said

We have different tastes in music

but we watch the same movies.

I like to play basketball, which you hate

but we both enjoy a cricket match on telly

You love Chinese food, I never will

but we both gorge on Mughlai

You're temperamental, I'm not

but we laugh at the same jokes.

We are worlds apart in some ways

in some we're identical

Whenever there's a clash

won't you meet me halfway?

Sometimes it will be peaceful

other times we'll argue 

and you will throw things around the house

then we will make up

and proceed to making love.

Won't it be fun?

You were right, my love

but I had other plans.

******************

While we were parting

he hugged me and said

We are too similar 

we won't work.

******************

While we were parting

he kissed me and regretfully informed

We are too different

we won't work.

******************

Bills, bills, bills

You know what pisses me off? Those paper bills the shops give everytime, even if you buy a 5 rupee chocolate. I DON'T NEED THE FRIGGIN BILL! Provide it to me if I ask for it, don't make it mandatory for godsake! But no, they will put it in your bag or thrust it in your direction whether you want it or not. You can't just leave it there on their counter, the store people stare at you and then call out to you..."Ma'am, your bill!" Then you have to pretend to have forgotten. "Oh yeah! *muttering gibberish under your breath*" You pick it up with the intention of throwing it away and hey! you can't find a bleddy wastebin.

There are places with tiny rolls, I don't feel so bad taking those and trashing them. I probably was not responsible for having destroyed half a tree. But go to most electronic stores or Adidas/Reebok and the likes, and the bill size there almost makes you feel like the entire store merchandize has been billed to you. Y U No make tiny bills, Jumbo electronics? I only bought a pair of earphones, not an Xbox Kinect. Must your bills look like novels?

Recycle atleast. All this wastefulness is driving me insane.

My little social experiment

In April I shut my twitter account that had been up for exactly a year. In that year I had acquired over 700 followers (much less if you subtract the bots) with a reasonable number of tweets and had a decent followers to followee ratio. The number of guys flirting with me was a fair number too! But I couldn't care less.

When questioned regarding my motive behind quitting, I gave each person a different answer.


I was flirting too much. I'm too old for that. 
Lie. You can never flirt enough, at whatever age.

I was investing too much into something that was just a sad way of telling myself I'm popular.
Partly true.

My work was suffering due to my tweeting.
If you'd rather tweet about how you hate work and your colleagues than actually doing some work...I contemplated deleting my facebook account too but there are way too many photos and videos there which can't be retrieved later :P Besides I love facebook. I can shut it out whenever I want. I don't have an incessant need to write something witty all the time. Then I pondered over the blog too...

A friend told me I was making a fool of myself on twitter.
Partly true. But I had decided to quit much before that. That comment formed the tipping point.


My real identity had been revealed onto a lot of people. 
I have a rather "open" way of talking which if my (potential) employers ever found out may not approve.


I was constantly thinking of witty things to tweet.
The wittiness never really happened, which frustrated me.

Everyday it was the same people licking each others' asses, forming cliques and acting elite. 
True to a large extent. But could occasionally be a "grapes are sour" situation.

The real reason is this:
I feel very strongly that I suffer from Attention Deficit Disorder. I have been struggling with it since school. When I reduce the number of things I'm pursuing to only the things that interest me, I'm able to do all of them more efficiently.

It was only when someone gave me the term earlier this year is when I could "tangiblize" it. I realized the reason why I haven't done as well in life as I could've is because of this.

So I decided to start reading instead. The first book I started took me A MONTH to read! And trust me however good the book was, I was constantly tempted to quit. Laptop for me has been a constant distraction and addiction over the past 3 years so I ensured I would shut my laptop at a precise time every night and spend a few minutes reading. I basically put myself through a self imposed rehab.

The second book took me a month to read too, but I started learning the piano and I spend considerable amount of time practising.

Currently reading the third - reading much faster, without distractions, longer sittings with greater comprehensibility. I feel I'm already working better, forgetting lesser things, able to articulate myself better at work, picking up the piano like nobody's business, taking a foreign trip alone so figuring out all details by myself. Blaming lesser people, depending on lesser people, not looking for constant validation and confidence boosting words from others. Eating well, sleeping well. Cribbing so little!

This is not really about twitter, it is infact about all the things that draw you away from what you really should be doing with your life. Eliminate the waste. Dive into the rest. I am instructed by a certain sweetheart of a friend to focus on myself for another couple of weeks still I start uhm...dating again. Hopefully my reason for wanting to date will not be "But I get so bored over the weekend!"

Maybe someday I will join twitter again, but only when I think I'm ready. The blog will always be there though :)

7 simple steps to pick up chicks. (Or how not to come across as a creep)

OK, so 'simple' is a bit of an overstatement but here goes nothing.

Before you read on, male reader, you need to know that this process is effective only if carried out with utmost patience. Think of yourself as a brand and you are carrying out a marketing campaign to, well...market yourself to the desired target audience. Remember! You cannot expect instant results, brand building starts with engaging the audience and then making the kill. You get? (Sorry, I've been working too hard. NOT.)

So you see this girl in your campus/workplace and you get basic info on her - name, where she lives, relationship status (if information is easily available. When in doubt, check facebook) and whatever you need to know for sure she isn't some psycho obsessive bitch. You realize you have no common friends with her who could introduce you to her. So how *do* you get her attention?

Step 1: Find out all the places where she spends the most amount of time.
It could be the canteen, the library, or anywhere which is common to the two of you. The idea is to get the maximum OTS (Opportunity To See) And when I say OTS, I mean for her to see you and not you to see her. Jeez! However, don't forget to be clandestine during this period.

Step 2: Be present at those places *before* she comes there, *not* after.
Hopefully by now you've already observed her day pattern and noted the times when she's present at those locations. The idea is to make it seem like a coincidence that you're there and not to come across as a stalker, 'cause that would mean instant rejection.

Step 3: Notice her casually
Now that you're at the same places for max OTS, ensure you are not staring at her 'cause that would be creepy. If she passes you by, just lift your head and glance at her once or twice. Try meeting her eye if the opportunity arises. This needs to be done for atleast 2 weeks. The idea is to be subtle, not over enthusiastic. Try to keep it in your pants, yeah?

Step 4: Redo Step 3
2 weeks is good enough time for a girl to know that she's being consistently looked at. If she's lost in her own world, her best friends won't be. They'll tell her about it. And then she'll start noticing you noticing her. What do you do? You carry on doing what you were doing in Step 3. If she's not showing any positive/neutral interest in you, abort mission.

Step 5: Show sudden disinterest aka play hard to get
It has been a month that she knows you've been noticing her but you still haven't shown any inclination to approaching her to talk to her. At this point of time, she is mildly curious about you. She might have even asked around your basic demographic details. What do you do in return? Stop carrying out Step 3. Just stop noticing her. Stop cold turkey. Again, 2 weeks. Unfortunately, and I hate to say it as a woman myself, you have to play on her insecurities.

Step 6: Redo Step 5 + Observe her behavior
Now the girl's just losing it! How could you show such strong interest in her and then just stop? Was it something she did? Did you suddenly realize after a month's time that she's not good enough for you? So, now to get *your* attention back, she will start dressing better, find out the places where you go to and so on. At this point of time you know you have her attention.

Step 7: Time to make the kill. 
So, your friends have seen her friends and vice versa. You all know of each other and thus aren't strangers anymore. This would be a decent time for your friend to talk to her friend. Or if you feel confident enough, you can approach her yourself. How you conduct yourself beyond this is totally up to you. Your life is a fucking ship and you're the captain.

How do I know this works?
I've seen my guy friends do it successfully. But I truly realized the potential of this trick when one day I inadvertently found myself in Step 4-5 of the process :)

Listen, I'm not guaranteeing anything! All the steps are sequential, skipping even one could throw the entire work out of the window.

Happy wooing ;) Let me know how it goes?

Sadness is beautiful

and so I've cried
a thousand nights
or maybe more
who kept the count
overturning pillows
received the pure waters
of emotions howled or whimpered
a stoic face by day, asks
how many more nights will it be
who knows
but will I enjoy my days without those?

Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

If I didn't know about Slutwalk already, I would've thought this article was written by The Onion/ Faking News or the likes.

Aparna Sharma, a Delhi University student, has picked out the skimpiest clothes from her closet especially for June 25. Bravo! Let's give the Delhi men a legitimate reason to stare at us, take high resolution pictures, splash them all over the internet and jerk off to them for all of eternity.

I'm generally not a person to have strong opinions, especially when it comes to these social issues. I have conveniently been avoiding all the corruption hullabaloo too. Not that that's a good thing. I'm just lazy. So don't expect me to side with or have strong dislikes for this Slutwalk, which I don't think should be called Slutwalk majorly 'cause, from what I know, Indians aren't great at sarcasm.

Personally I have little interest in wearing slutty clothes. I will be happy if I can wear shorts or knee-length skirts in this cruel Delhi summer without being stared at. And if you thought it's only the men that do the staring, you are...well...not living in Delhi.

It's not the women silly, the change needs to come from the men. The men need to stand up for us. Not because we're weak and need constant protection, but because they're equally affected by this. When my guy friends from other cities are in town, they are so infuriated by the way Delhi men stare that they almost want to beat them up. (All men have homicidal rage, says Don Delillo in White Noise) Haven't you seen, when a woman tries to react angrily to a man's impositions, the perverts generally enjoy it and repeat their actions? Now you want to parade around showing your lacy underwear? Do we not know Delhi is not safe irrespective of what clothes one wears? Isn't it true though that somewhere we might be triggering the pervert man's desire for flesh because of our barenaked attire? Didn't you drool when John Abraham showed a glimpse of his buttcrack in that Bounce Bounce song in Dostana wearing that oh-so-awesome and gorgeous tiny knickers? Do you drool as much when he's fully clothed?

Don't be stupid and tell me we deserve the right to wear what we want. You want to see hairy bare chested, pot-bellied men parading around the city? Wouldn't you rather want a better law and order system in place?

"Slutty clothes" are expensive, man. I see only the upper class being able to afford them anyway. These women don't walk around on footpaths or take the Metro. Are they seriously subjected to true harassment? "Slutwalk" in Canada happened because of public outrage towards an accusatory remark from a policeman. I'm sorry, but here it just seems like a case of seeking attention. Rebels without a cause, if I may say.

But you know, as long as someone is doing something, I say more power to you. I am terminally ambiguous. If you have a different point of view, maybe I can benefit from it. So tell me what you think.

And girls, if you can slutwalk like The Dolls in Buttons, don't even try. 

Clarification, Observations and Updates

Clarification
Oye hello...just because I'm writing frustrated blog posts does not mean I am depressed. When I write, it's an exaggerated reality. Cynical love blogposts are about milking (attempted) poetry from the hurt experienced eons ago. Work frustration blogs about pre-good appraisal times. So relax, there's no cause for concern :)

******************************************************************************

Observations

Uno
When you go out to a bar and don't know what to order, just get an LIT. Saves you the time to look at the menu, decisions regarding "What alcohol base would I prefer?" and definitely takes lesser time to get high. A little of everything, I say. An LIT. Lifesaving Insane Tonic.

And so that's what I did this Saturday night. After a coupla those, I got my freak on. So much so a stranger boy told me (twice) that I dance really well. Anyway this is not the first time my "high spirited" dancing was appreciated.*hair toss*

I do remember saying "I miss MICA" on repeat.

Dos
Boys, as a rule, girls are needy and clingy. There are various degrees of needy and clingy, but those are completely dependent on how much a girl is willing to show. The idea is not to run away from the needy and clingy, the idea is to work around it, like Iranian film directors. Do they stop making movies 'cause the government places such high censorship on their creative work of art? No. (I assume) They enjoy it, they revel in it. Their industry is one of the biggest in World Cinema. All because there was so much censorship they had to work around in creative ways to narrate!

So the moral of the story is, you can manage to handle a girl despite whatever BS she gives you. (That's if you are into her that much) If she ain't needy and clingy, she probably don't even want you so bad :P

Tres
Just two weeks back I got the shortest haircut of my life. It has been received surprisingly well with the general community. But when I met this one particular friend (he who shall not be named or referred to) after a long time, he had his own theory regarding it.

Let's call it the Haircut Theory.

According to him, when people go for radical haircuts it's because their lives are so boring, they want to do anything they can to shake things up. And when people go for a full headshave, they are trying to rediscover themselves. (Ok this is one of those "you had to be there" times. His animated hand movements and clear sarcasm is the icing and a bit of the cake too)

I have to admit, while I was getting a haircut, there were a few seconds I contemplated shaving my head off. Gulp. Needless to say, he received a few punches from me.

******************************************************************************

Updates a.k.a. *narcissism alert*

Uno
You know how you sometimes feel stifled with your limited knowledge of something you love? Like not knowing enough about the lives of your teenage children, or struggling to learn enough at the workplace because of a shitty mentor.

That's how I feel about music and my inability to play an instrument.

So about 10 days back I joined piano classes. I *cannot believe* it took me so many years to do that. 2 classes down and I'm turning out to be quite the maestro! My teacher says I'm already at a normal person's 10-12th session! I'll be skipping Grade 1, 2 and 3 exams! He says and I quote "This is to you like a fish to water" AND AND "You have the music in you" *blush*

Dos
I seriously thought I would be fired. SERIOUSLY. But that darned appraisal went so well, I'm pretty sure my lower jaw was comfortably sitting on the floor for a few minutes. I was so overwhelmed with their remarks, I even teared up twice!

It could be because they thought I was good, it could be because they both got promoted the day before.

Of course my genius friend had to make a wisecrack and say "So basically now you will hang on there longer, no? Heh." I'm predictable.

Tres
Have you listened to "You are a tourist" by Death Cab for Cutie? There has been no song in recent times that has spoken to me quite like this one.

"If you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born, it's time to go"

Cuatro
I am on the brink of finishing reading my second book, which is quite an achievement 'cause my laptop ensured my reading habits went for a toss. GayDAD, my friend (?), philosopher (!) and guide (?), has been dictating the terms and conditions of my reading habits. Thank you, loser.

Have you reached here, reader? Congratulations.

Do the do.

Monkey to humans...monkey to humans...can you hear me?

This monkey has completed one year in training at her workplace and now is a full time monkey! (or so she's hoping that 'Terminated' isn't checked against her name)

I shall now scratch my armpits and jump around. I travel back to childhood when we used to watch those monkey street shows at India Gate, trained to do the same thing day in and day out. Don't question! Do the do. Shut your mouth. Always smile. Nod incessantly. Laugh, whenever the "almighty" makes a horrendous joke.

I was me
     now I am a monkey
          sitting in a tree
               K.I.S.S.I.N.G. (ass)

Punch some numbers. Say shit to the person at the other end of the line. Express dissatisfaction. Write words of dissatisfaction. Press SEND. Be angry. Curse. Do whatever is required. Do the do.

Plan Friday afternoon lunches. They keep us alive and ennui free. Or so we hope.

I'm going to drown myself in Nirula's Hot Chocolate Fudge today, licking quickly with my tiny monkey tongue. Where is this month's Sodexho booklet?

I seem to be obsessed with animals these days. A few days back it was frogs, now this.

This life is your life. This life is my life.

I love my new piano. Hope it loves me too. Atleast till I play 'Ode to Joy'.

Aren't you going to congratulate me? :)

Tête-à-tête

Media Head: Describe your dream day.
Me: Wake up early morning, find all my friends in the same city, go for an expensive breakfast buffet, morning spent shopping at a luxury mall, amusement park in the afternoon after being flown in by a chopper, spa early evening, go to a gig/get to perform at a kickass high end place at night.
MH: Who's your favorite artist?
Me: A band named Incubus.
MH: You'd like to perform with them?
Me: Well, yeah. But more like marry the lead singer.
(Media team laughs)
MH: So you'd like to perform with him and then marry him?
Me: In the same night, yes. Also have his kids.
(Media team laughs)
Me: After the concert I get to spend the night at a hotel, order room service.
MH: So that's your dream day.
Me: Yeah, making babies in the hotel. Sounds about right.
(Media team laughs)

No one takes me seriously :(

Magic formula

She makes a snack
he is in the childrens' room
teaching them math.

How Many Frogs?

When he appeared into my ignorantly fine world he wasn’t a part of my plan

He stood at the foot of a staircase with a tipped hat, a flower in his jacket and much élan

His hand didn’t stretch out; he didn’t quite say “My lady”

And the rest of the term I kept chasing him around, his naked legs were quite the delicacy

He hopped about as soon as I’d bend to touch his shining skin

but when I’d pretend to be with another he’d turn visibly green and carry a nasty grin

“What do you want from me?!” I asked, as I tried to hide my face under my blazer

“Croak croak” he goes, “croak croak”

I said “I don’t quite understand, what language is this?

But tell me, how many more frogs must a girl kiss?”

He was the knight in shining armor, when my heart was at war

Reeling from the man who had broken my soul, is that what men are for?

Determined for him to prove me wrong I laid out my all for him

I’d be the clarity to his protruding eyes; I’d be his seductress, his best friend at whim

But I should’ve known he thrived only in dirty little ponds

He did not love with the heart, he traded them like stock market bonds

“What do you want from me?!” I asked, as tears ran down my face

“Croak croak” he goes, “croak croak”

I said “I think I remember what language this is,

At the behest of another, you refuse me your bliss

Pray tell me, O’filthy one, how many more frogs must a girl kiss?”

There’s a reason why they breathe through their skin

They want to observe but not absorb all that is happening

And then there was the rain and they came out in abundance

Croaked and croaked and croaked, so I wore my ear plugs, to prevent myself the repugnance

Look at your curious lips, and your eagerness to run away!

Everytime I meet one of you I experience déjà vu/action replay

If I could live with myself, next time I would like to be the damned frog

While you follow me around, feel insecure, cry, ask me the same questions and slog

I know exactly where we are. Where the fuck are we?!?!

I've never been overly ambitious. There are things that come naturally to me and I'm grateful for them. Then there are things that don't come naturally to me and I leave them be. Or push myself a little and see where it goes. But never driven enough to be a cut-throat person in personal life or in career (except when someone says "That girl sings as well as you do" IT'S WAR, SISTAH!) I have to admit that my ex-cum-best-friend-from-an-alternate-universe knows best when he says "You're just lazy" I can't contest that. But there is nothing wrong in not wanting to be wedded to your job. If I wish to be mediocre in my career to have a bit of life beyond the corporate four walls, hey that's my call. Don't look down upon me (unless you're too tall in comparison)

 

Since we got talking, I narrated to him my recent fiasco with trying to date. He laughed his loud laugh like I'm the most amusing person in the world and told me that it took such little to completely shattered my image in his eyes; he just recently gave *my* example to this woman who has him on a 6 month probationary dating period and that "I can't believe you've become like all the other girls. What's with the inane "Where is this going? Where do you see us 3 months from now?" questions! Do all women become like this at our age?" After his "I quite identify with that guy" monologue, he finally agreed to agree with me on a tiny speck of something and I could breathe easy.

Lesson for the next time around - Don't Be A Girl.

******************************************************************************

I've maintained that if I were born near the sea, I would've been a complete water baby. A person just needs to say "Rafting in Rishikesh" and my bag packs itself automatically. Although it didn't quite, I found myself in the snake-road scales as soon as the weekend began.

If I were to describe the Saturday that passed, I would be quite accurate in saying the rafting was an out of body experience. If you thought the rapids were exciting, then imagine rough winds, heavy rainfall and hailstorm. Water droplets taking the shape of tiny spears, or like a thousand visits to the doctor to get an injection, all in the same day. The hail shot like darts on our skin, the wounds to be visible till much later. Screaming, shouting, synchronized rowing to save our lives. Right out of the movies! Did I mention I almost drowned? Though I was disappointed my life didn't flash in front of my eyes. All I knew was, in that moment, I didn't want it to be the last.

Ah, the memories! 

******************************************************************************

So the Incubus album got leaked 2 1/2 months before its release date, just when I was about to order my pre-release copy online. Surely not good news for the band, kinda like premature ejaculation if you ask me. I had just started to ride the wave. The brand evangelist in me had much more to rave about and get people around me excited about a band they had never heard or considered listening to.(That's the marketer in me talking)

This album is a complete departure from their previous attempts, and when I say departure I mean they took the first Greyhound out of Los Angeles to the New York airport to catch a flight to Zambia. Can't say I liked it too much. However, you know that time when you're ready to get married and you meet this guy and you think "Hey, I'd have to live with his excessive smoking and drinking but atleast he's a nice guy and earns a lot"? And you meet meet meet till you convince yourself that you've fallen in love with him? Similarly I have If Not Now, When? on repeat on my pod for the past 2 weeks. And I've warmed upto it to quite an extent!

Incase you haven't seen the first single Adolescents, please do. The shadows multiply the Incubus. Such joy.

And my evening song, Isadore.

Listen ok? The post title is taken from "Deep Inside" by Incubus from the album S.C.I.E.N.C.E., inarguably their best album to date.

Goodbye sanity, hello profanity

Lots and lots of shit has been happening lately. Like LOTS. It's like my body and my soul is attracting all sorts of negativity. Imagine you are a magnet inside an all-pin case, and they come rushing towards you as you enter. Literally the center of their universe.

So obviously I've been on the edge most of the time; cribbing about food while removing those chunky tomatoes, moping around at home, those unfortunate parents are tolerating the rebirth of the teenager they thought they left behind eons ago, brother getting lectures on how he should study otherwise he will repent like I did (you had to be there, I was 'so' convincing he actually studied day and night for about 3 days. Right about now, he'll be playing FIFA on my laptop. Oh well) Stopped communication with a person I had taken to quite fondly recently, shut my twitter account that had been up for a year...not that it was done out of some random urge to PMS.

You always hear "If you think bad things will happen to you, they probably will" So as they say in The Secret, or when I first heard it through a friend during my engineering days "If you think really hard that that truck standing around the corner will come towards you, it will" And I stood there, concentrating really hard at the driver, trying to send some brain signals to him "come to me, come to me", they said. Then I probably had a lecture or something, and so I left. But that's not important. The important thing is that I was 20. Yes.

When I started this week I was determined to beat all the workload with my awesomeness so Bombay could happen by Thursday, and I could spend the weekend with the friends I hadn't chilled with in so long and So Long reminds me of my 2nd song, which reminds me of a 3rd (or 4th) hopeful that could happen with my two boys in Bombay. But like I mentioned, things have a way of very slickly screwing themselves up for me so as soon as Monday began, I knew I was in for a terrible week and a possible cancellation of my long awaited trip.And like every single time, people around me asked me to keep the faith, think of positive things, think of times I'll be pub-hopping and wearing my new faackawezome new stilettos. So I did.

Now that I'm looking at the clock, I think I have about a half hour that I leave for the airport.

AAAND I had time for this blogpost. So #winning! Damn I miss Twitter.

Shipwreck

Gently rocking back and forth against the calm of the waves

Two lovers sway in their drunkenness of his aftershave

She tries to hide her bosom, heaving to the band’s beat

Today her virgin voyage, he promises, will be complete

Out of sheer nervousness, she can’t hide her laughter

When he whispers in her ear all that will happen after

The cupid did not fail here at his skill of archery

And he brought whatever was left of the required artillery

They should reach the hour of glory certainly sometime soon

Nothing could possibly go wrong, it was the night of a full moon!

There were noises in the background, however muted by his voice

From the corner of her eye she saw a boat but she made a choice

She made a choice to keep looking straight into his eyes

His eyes looked worried but he tried to improvise

He asked her to leave the first chance she could get

He’ll meet her the next day and they’ll read about this in the gazette…

All one can see now are their silhouettes against the sea

Of a fine day in 1912 when he saw her bubbling melancholy

Telling him she does not deserve the impending penitentiary

Immortalized as a maiden for one less than a century

Sandpaper

Sandpaper, your love is as rough as sandpaper

Abrasive to carry out a frivolous caper

Like my heart is a wall you want to bring down

Be the chaos in this everyday ghost town

Sandpaper, your love is as square as sandpaper

You stand by your morals and whatever

The ruthlessness in your smile tells me I can’t

Resort to anything to make you ever recant

Sandpaper, your love is as aggressive as sandpaper

Removing layers like an in-the-heat raper

There’s a certain chill you give me with your glances

Belying the most innocuous of thine appearances

Sandpaper, your love is as smoothening as sandpaper

You only polish me to turn me to vapor…

Monday

A Monday soaked with delight
Him trying to get over his stage fright
At a soothing soiree for two
They are hand in hand, for future déjà vu

Her nervous laughter, as it disappears,
Gives way to dancing under the chandelier
As they let go of any semblance of contemplation
Words unbelievably slip in the smooth conversation

Flights of steps guiding towards the belvedere
Their proof of amour, all want to overhear
But they are too lost in each other to notice
In the act of love they are two apprentices

They pretend, but they know what is to follow
The desire in their eyes will swallow
And have their bodies forever chained
Mondays will never be the same again.

Great Indoors

The walls, oh walls
come back! While you're at it
bring a ceiling too.

Sights, no sounds

Follow up questions
Asked for a sole purpose -
To see your lips move

Blast from the past - IV

From the time when rhymes came easy.

Bridges

One body melts
Keep your head straight, she says
But this is what the novels talk about!
Ah! So now with her heart she pays

Sheridan, he called her 'Sherry'
Exquisite red-haired beauty, no plain Jane
Some fantasies were fulfilled
Alas! some fantasies shall forever remain

Yes that's her
And yes, that's her too
Forgive her restrained audacity
And the timid flame she kept for you

When reality struck
One important lesson she learnt
Some bridges you build
Some bridges are meant to burn

II

The past year just flew by past me! Quickly whispering in my ear to tell me the blog needs the big 2 on his cake. Time to send my love-child to play-school to hang out with the big boys. Whadya say? I know for one - he knows his rhymes :) And surely he's gonna kick ass as he was conceived in a Market Research class, born out of an Insight. (Ayyo!)

Life gets harder for him from now on. He has raised the expectations of the FIVE WHOLE PEOPLE who read him. And don't ask me why it's a him and not a her. Maybe it's 'cause this one has a hard-on all the time but a 2 yr old with that is just gross. So a little Yoohoo! and maniacal yoddling and I rev this up for its third year! Looks like it's going to be noisy this time around.

Also, just so I make it clear, the next person who asks me if I handle "Pulsar" is going to get their asses kicked so bad, the butt crack would suddenly seem deeper. And this includes you mom!

This apple fell very far away from the tree. Einstein gained nothing out of this phenomenon. 

Ka-ching

We have more than enough bacon
you like to bring home
and the children get all they want
including annual trips to Rome.
You said you won't be your father
and will fulfill our every wish
our pockets shall never go empty
we won't ever need to don kitsch.

Sundays we thank our stars

and afterwards party lavishly

our ancestors might have suffered

so we swore not to live slavishly.

But I put some of mine in a piggy bank
I worry sometimes, so I'll be frank;
If something should happen to you any which way
I save, for that particular rainy day.

Hourglass

She hoped
they'd be closer than they were
but in that moment
with his face in her hands
and her elbows resting on his palm
it wasn't even physically possible!

Then

breaths turn into inches.

She asked him to not go
and he smiled, confused,
'cause she was coming along with him
but just for a day
just for that day.
He misunderstood her appeal.

Then

inches turn into miles.

You can go far without me

but she can't, he said.

Her strength becomes a curse, 

as he insults the one he claims to love.

She picks up the change

and empties it out in her torn pockets.

Then

miles turn into borders.

Her baggage was more now

than when she had left

Thought she could change his mind

if given another day

but he erased the times spent

like a duster on a chalkboard.

Then

borders turn into silences.

Trampling sunshine

There were things you said
that stay with me
although you asked me,
as you changed your mind
almost as it left the mouth,
to get rid of them.

Flush from ear number two
before the brain registers!

A little too late, my love.
A little too late.
A paper crumpled can't erase ink.

You left me high
and certainly not dry;
A little too deep, my love.
A little too deep...
where proof of love drips like nectar.

I hung on
to your every word
'cause they were the only things
worth hanging on to
at the edge of my pillow then
and for years after that,
always picturing you getting dressed
next to the door.

Tell me,
in the heat of the moment,
did lies lie to you
about not being lies?

A little too much lie, my love.
A little too much lie.

The Deaf New Year

The December to January change is always very unsettling. There’s something about the FIFO model of the months that reminds me of Coding. You know, memories that haunt you even years down the line - failing your Computer Science pre-board exam and then deciding to join an IT company a few years later.

So you ask yourself - Is this a pattern? Disliking something but ending up doing it. Like wanting to live with your parents...at 26. My brother and I waking up every day to "you two are useless" as if I was ever expected to carry out my room shelf dusting.

So after a while you just become immune, to insults, to blame games, and what really makes you happy is knowing you have the power to irritate another person, 'cause you know them too well and can play on their insecurities the same way they've been doing it on you all this while. (HBO's In Treatment has been playing a huge role in transferring my incapabilities onto my parents. Brilliant show, that.)

The New Year didn't start with a bang but more like a bust. OK not *that* bust but you know what I mean. It would be quite accurate to call the 1st of January an epic fail, quite like the double D's of trouble really. (In other news, a university in Boston has banned the words "facebook", "Google", "viral", "epic" and "fail" when used as verbs. Reminds me of the time "maverick" made it to a similar global list a few years back which somehow still that hasn't stopped my colleagues from using it profusely) All this is funny 'cause only last week I had started to get a little bored of my settled, peaceful life. If "Trouble" wasn't my middle name, "Messy" surely is. But the good news is that things can only look up from there. So excitement, adrenalin and most importantly, lots and lots of financial help are imperative. At least for what I have planned.

Or lack thereof.

Considering what an experimentative one last year was, claiming to top it would be a tall order. But never say never when you can always say always. I know for sure Woody Allen would go "tsk, tsk" reading this after I tell him his book I was reading in the morning inspired this post. He’d rather it expired. Here.

Anyway as I hope to move out of my place I look at what all I can really do in Delhi with no more curfews and total freedom. We built Bombay city on Rock and Roll, however this one is built more on Rape and Rolling. And the martyrs’ names from India Gate have magically disappeared but that might be because I wasn't wearing my lenses the last time I visited.

I was thinking what makes you really bad. Not bad in a bad way, but bad in an attractive way. Does getting a tattoo or two really permanently ink your badness? Or being thrown out of class for deliberate unruly behavior when the rest are being good kids, doodling and silently hoping for the clock ticks to gain a little tempo? Or if the number of people you've slept with can’t be counted on just one hand? Manson-like Gothicism? (Whatever it is, it will definitely never be an obsession with the Twilight series) Making depressing poetry seem fashionable? Or when you try to break out of societal rules that have become outdated?

Now the last might be very subjective but not when people are still living in the 70s and aren't even donning polka dotted frocks, head bands and flowers in their hair. Not fair. Especially when your life is playing out like an unfunny sitcom. And in a shudder you realize, though you lost your adolescence a long time back, adulthood is just striking you in the ass. And all you can do is look back at your life and say to yourself "Hey, looks like you already have plenty stories to tell your grandchildren. Time to get your act together"

But do we ever learn? At least *I* hope not!

Happy New Ear y’all. Be deaf to others and do what you want.