I'm Crazy like that

I like the smell of pop-corn.
I love feel of Crocs.
I think iced tea is "coke without soda"
I love the sound of blunt rocks.

I find poetry in Rap.
I find love in faded pages of books.
I find bliss in chocolate.
I'm emotionally connected to dogs.

I listen to a new song I like, over and over again,
Till I can sing to the tune.
I feel helpless without my book, my headphones.
And I can surprisingly stand in long queues.

I think I'm born in the wrong century.
And that Life should have a playlist.
I cry when Julia Robers get blessed by an elephant in Eat, Pray, Love.
And when Bella and Edward get married.

I can't watch Marley & Me, because, you know...the dog dies in the end,
But I'm still scared of Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol
For he says, "I made this chain link-by-link he says."
That thought keeps me awake.

I blush easily.
Tamarind makes my teeth go funny.
I have a different tooth-paste for morning and night.
And I wear a Garfield sweat-shirt to bed.

I can be a good listener.
But I'll curse your guts in my head.
I think books have all the answers.
And that should wear jeans till you're dead.

I am sullen and sulky and morose by turns.
But can brighten anyone's day.
I think my smile is crooked.
And that rice always burns.

I want to read more, learn more, be more,
But sometimes am lost in my own head.
It needs a sound of screeching tyres and honks
To get me out of there.

I like it that I'm so strong, so independent.
But sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me.
Aren't you supposed to feel anything
Even when people scream?

Dinner can be bread and milk for me.
And the same for breakfast.
I'm addicted to coffee and tea.
And to Sidney Sheldon

I OD on Castle, HIMYM, South Park and Sherlock.
I watch Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice all the time
I refresh my playlist every day
And hear wooshing sounds in my left ear.


I look around and I see lots of people
But in my head I'm always alone.
A crazy, silly, nice, nasty person.
All of me in one neatly tied package.

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The Last Article of a Rookie Sports Journalist

The only thing that a rookie understands from a game of Cricket, is that there are two men in helmets - standing with carved pieces of wood (called the Bat), more men standing around in caps and painted faces (like ancient tribal creatures), and one man with a tiny red ball. The baller and the bouncy person standing behind the main “batsman” keep on screaming things like “oow-waah-zaat” and sometimes “ma-ki” which mean nothing to the rookie, but are interpreted as appeals and insults respectively, by the seasoned viewer.


The rookie does not know why Cricket is called a “gentleman's game”. She does not understand who the referred “gentleman” is. Is it the player, who, amidst thousands of spectators – including ladies, does not hesitate to *cough* touch himself in questionable places? Or is it the viewer, who yells, shouts insults and throws plastic bottles at the players in the middle of the game?

The rookie was recently invited to watch a “net-session” of a local team. The net-session, is a practice session, where in the balling and the batting is done inside a net (so as not to hurt the unsuspecting public, the rookie believes). There were two things going on simultaneously at the ground; one test match (a 5-day infliction) and the aforementioned net-session. Friends of the rookie, immediately set themselves in motion and started pointing out to each other, “that's the yesteryear wicket-keeper!” or “there's the newest member of the IPL team Mumbai!” and “that's the son of a famous cricketer!” The rookie tried to look intelligent and nod as if the names meant something to her, but was thinking all the while, “God! Not a single one of them is remotely good-looking!”

An age old rule that all the journalists (and detectives) follow is - “try to look for something beyond the obvious.” It’s all good in theory, but when sixteen people start to look for “something beyond obvious” at the exact same spot, at the exact same time, it is a pretty good idea to stick with the obvious, as no one is looking at it. But this wisdom, the rookie was yet to learn.

Following the same rule, the rookie decided to interview the security guard, as all the other “non-obvious” mortals were already taken. Right from the caterer, to injured player to the lawn-mower, hell, even the dhobi who worked just outside the grounds, was taken.

The security guard, like the rookie, was also new to his job. The fact that he was being interviewed by a journalist made him immensely happy. He looked at the rookie reverently and answered all her questions very obligingly.

“My name is Pradeep Kumar Choudhry. I have been working here since the last one-and-half year only. Celebrities? Yes, I have seen Dhoni-ji, Yuvraj-ji, Ishant Sharma-ji and Mohammed Kaif-ji too. Only Sachin Tendulkar-ji is remaining,” he told the rookie proudly. “I have watched a lot of Ranji matches here. Yes, they are very exciting” he said, stifling a yawn.

Momentarily lost for words, the rookie confessed that she herself was new to this job. That is when Mr. C took it on himself to supply the story ideas to the rookie. “Come madam-ji, I’ll show you one fruit-vendor, who has been selling fruits here for the last 10 years, but has never seen a match!” Amused, the rookie followed. The fruit-vendor was just setting up his shop. After introductions, the fruit-vendor started telling a long story (whether it was a product of his over-active imagination or it was real, could not be determined) about how he sold three dozen bananas to Bhajji and how Bhajji bargained.

After a long walk and introductions with “a young cricketer who had Yuvi’s autograph” and “the paan-waala who sold gutkha to a yester-year batsman” the rookie was finally able to steer the security guard towards the net-session again. No sooner they reached, than a car pulled up inside the gate. “This is Sir-ji’s car! He’s the owner of the place, and the coach for the KKR” hissed Mr. C vociferously, opening the car door.

Out came small man, dressed in white shirt, dark pink sweater, torn blue jeans and brown shoes. He was chewing something (probably tobacco) and had his (Gucci) goggles on his head. He heard the guard’s remarks to the rookie, glared at them and stalked off towards the dressing room. Mr. C grinned and said, “He’s a very kind man”.

After three hours in the sun, thirsty, hungry and sun-burnt, the rookie had decided that sports journalism was not her cup of tea. If not a story, the rookie that day had definitely left with a healthy respect for all the sports journalists had decided that this was going to be her last ever sports-related assignment.

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It was a 'Oh My God' day...

In a matter of 70 minutes, I have been stepped on, pushed by & yelled at, by half the human population in Delhi NCR.


But this is not where ‘today’ starts. I woke up late today, thanks to the ‘all nighter’ that I had pulled earlier. (Project, you know.) I came in late, sweet-talked my way into the class, settling in with a cup of much-needed coffee.

Okay, so, last night, one of my friends had taught me a Malyali word ‘Maire’, which she said, meant ‘Monkey’. So, when I spotted my mallu friend in class, I greeted him with a loud, “What’s up Maire?” He looked dumbfounded but politely told me that it is a swear-word, roughly meaning ‘pubic hair’.

Super. I can never get over that one.

Later, we had to go for an assignment/field-reporting at one of the press conferences happening. We attended it…& hello?…it was brilliant! At least the part with Siddharth Varadrajan (from The Hindu) was. I taped the whole conversation.

Oh no, now comes the nightmare. I had been told that the nearest metro station from the place was INA. So I went there. And - Oh. My. God. The trains were soooooooooo bloody crowded! It was as if I were on an escalator. I got pushed into the train, as if by magic. No, not the, you-rub-a-lamp-&-pop-comes-a-genie-type magic. It was more like a Rumplestillskin act. Completely horrible. Then, I got down at Rajiv Chowk, which is like the most crowded stations in Delhi. I went round & round looking for the right platform. I couldn’t even look at the sign-boards properly, because, as soon as you loose focus, you ram into someone. And people yell at you. Finally, after 20 minutes of station-trotting, I found the right platform & stood in a line. The metro came, jam packed, as usual…

And I got in…just so. For the next 15 minutes, all I could smell was sweat. Sick, man. And whenever a station came, I was jostled & shoved from all sides. The names of the metro stations started to sound more & more unfamiliar, and that’s when I realized, that I had got into the wrong fucking train! Damn it!

I got down, cursing my luck, got into the right train, went to the connecting station, and finally reached my destination. I was sure that by this time I would be smelling like a dead fish. Yep - and I was. Now it should come as no surprise to you, my readers, when I say that it had started raining. Pouring. I looked like a drowned cat by the time I reached home. By the way, I’ve never understood why they say ‘drowned cat’. I mean, a drowned cat wouldn’t look any different than a drowned dog, or a drowned hyena.

Anyway, that’s when it struck me. If I’ve had such a terrible time, the only way to counter-act would be to write as funny a description as I can, of it.

So here I am.

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Regarding Lingerie

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman with or without a great fortune has no use for lingerie whatsoever in her life...

Shopping for decent underwear is a thing which requires skill, precision, determination & an ability to choose, to make the wisest decision when you are bombarded with lethal (underwired) choices.

Shopping for my undies has been a painful experience for me, always. Since my 15th birthday, I have been shopping for my underwear on my own. Till then, it used to be a family affair, when 3 times a year, we were bought matching sets of bloomers. It was really hassle-free. In my teens, my Mum bought me sporty bras that made sure that my non-existent cleavage remained inconspicuous.

I remember a particularly painful experience, when I was living in Bangalore and my friend and colleague Rits recommended me a particular lingerie store. The owner/attendant was a middle aged woman, rather like a sweet auntie. That's what I thought first. Then she asked me, "What is your size, baby?" I told her, to which she replied, totally checking me out, "No, no baby, you'll want a B, not a C!" I blushed and asked for some everyday-wear bras, you know, the comfy affairs, which any self-respecting girl would rather die, than show it to her boyfriend. She thrust a brown silk & lace piece with underwire & padding under my nose. "Just try this one, baby...it'll look so good on you" she said checking me out again. I thought I'll find Rits and make her pay for this. She shoved me into a dressing room & started throwing more lace & wire from the top of the door, yelling all the time, "try this one baby...and this...and this will look so good with your skin colour!" Finally & firmly I got through her. I said, "I really like these auntie, but I'd like to see some cotton ones too, please." She shook her head sadly saying, "but baby, you're so young! These horrid cotton affairs are meant for menopausal women!" That was when I dropped everything and fled.

I now take care that whenever I shop for underclothes, I always pick small stores, that carry no labels. Huh. Life has taught me much.

I was moaning about this to my Bua (my father's sister), Aunt Uma, when she said, "come, I'll show you the perfect shop!" My Aunt U is a black belt shopper. Her bargaining skills are unsurpassed & she knows exactly where the sales are. I'm sure she has a network of something like Baker Street Irregulars, who provide her with the names and addresses of the shopkeepers who are malleable. So she took me with her, in one of the city's most crowded areas. We went through familiar shopping streets, bustling with people, to the slightly unknown areas of the place. We went inside a nondescript building & rode in a elevator, which could very well have been the First Elevator In India.

You know, there is a moment in your life, when everything feels right and the second you meet someone, you know that he/she is the right one for you. You feel that no one else can understand you like him. You just look at him, and you know, everything is gonna be alright.
This is what I felt when I first saw "New Ladies Paradise - Wholesale woman's underwears & bra". What's in a name, I ask like Mr. Shakespeare. There were no vulgar "2-piece" or "4-piece" (?) clothes hanging out, no photographs of busty women showcasing impossible bras. Just a shop, a regular shop with mind-boggling rows and rows of neatly labeled boxes. The shop owner too, was a fatherly looking old man, with a paunch & a benevolent smile.

He tirelessly showed me the things that I wanted to see, gave me a fat discount and bid me adieu. This is what a shopping experience should be like. He has gained a customer for life. God bless you man!

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Hello...

Hello everybody!
How's everyone doing?

Well, I just wanted to let you guys know that I've registered on Authonomy!! Yay!
Lets hope something comes out of it! :)

So, I was just wondering, how to start it...you know what I mean? Seriously, I can't imagine, because, I love a different book every day.  I admire a different style, every week. This week its Austen. "Really, you astonish me". And last week it was Bridget Jones' style rant. "Weight: 8st 10lbs, Alcohol units: 9, Calories Consumed: 3584." Huh.

I am going to the library now to get some new, totally unheard of books. Last week, I got a book called as Fairytale of New York by Miranda Dickinson, and reviewed it for my college application. I got selected for their Interview (!). I was to review a Book, a Film or a televison Show. At first I decided to review a film, Alice in Wonderland...but then I thought, its a famous movie, everybody must have seen it & must have formed their opinions about it. T.V. show was out of question. The only shows I like are 90210 & Skins, and I didn't think the professors would be impressed by my addiction to teen drama... Thats why I chose a relatively unknow, fresh book, just published in Oct 2009. And my theory was proved correct.

I'm feeling really groggy now...couldn't sleep last night. I have to do something about that. Anyhoo, it's not a big deal. Nothing that a high dose of caffeine won't cure!

Gotta scram now y'all... Will write some more later!

Ciao.

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Its that time of year...

Yep, its that time of year.
The time for 'spreading the cheer', the time for 'new year resoultions'.
Busy, busy, busy...

(Will write soon ya'll)

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Some more pictures!!

Just a quickie post!

Happy Monday!

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Things that have happened since the last time I blogged:

Yay! We are moving!
Its a lovely flat, on the 3rd floor of an old apartment building, surrounded with a lots of lovely trees!
I am going to share a room with my sister...but its okay...I've done that since I was a little girl. Will upload the before & after snaps soon!

Meanwhile - here are some snaps of my friends Emmet & Emma!
Enjoy!

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My Photography

I've been reading sooo many inspiring blogs about photography for such a long time now... So I decided to try my hand at it... Let me know what you think!

(These two photos (the one above & below) are taken at a family function.)

(A pretty tower at our country house)

(An eerie looking tree...)

(A blade of grass)

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Some Pictures

Hey folks! Today we went to our country house and I took some pictures... Tell me how they are!

(Its taking forever to upload them; I'll upload the rest later!)

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Just a little something...

10-Aug-2009
Yesterday, I went out for a walk in the city. The place I live in is very crowded and... you know, sort of - bustling. And I love to walk around in the crowd, look at people, shops, cars... Anyway, so I went quite far and shopped a bit... And then decided that I was too tired to go back walking... So I started to look around for a rickshaw (the Indian 'cabs' or 3-wheeler thingys)... and suddenly realised that it was their strike!


Now, I was in a jam for the following reasons:

1) Public transportation, like buses, in India sucks. You should not attempt such a thing unless you are, broke, below poverty line, love to get viral diseases, love the smell of sweat, dust, paan, tobacco… etc.

2) I was left limited cash (due to my shopping).

3) Could not call father to pick me up or something, because, obviously, would get yelled, screamed & abused at for “…doing such horrible things & setting a bad example for my siblings…” Blah, blah, blah.

4) Could not use public transportation because of the Swine/H1N1 flu scare (My city being the most affected city in India).

So I tried to hail a few errant rickshaws, which were running despite the strike, but they were asking for outrageous amounts like 100-150 bucks, where generally it costs you around 27-30 bucks for that distance! Besides, I did not have 100 bucks!

The only option I was left with was, to walk home. It was almost dark, & I was too tired. Disheartened, I started to walk homewards. Suddenly I saw a rickshaw standing idle around the corner. I hurried there, and asked if it was available.

He said, "Come and sit inside madam"
I duly sat. Then I noticed that he had not started his (fare) meter.
I asked, "Won't you start the meter?"
He said, "No madam, I can't do that! If someone saw that the meter was on, I'd be in trouble!"
I was thinking oh, so that's why he asked me to sit first... he wants to cheat me!
I asked warily, "How much will you charge?"
He said, "The general charges madam, approximately 30 bucks"

I did not believe my ears!

The driver was a sweet guy, who chatted with me politely all the way home. I was so grateful! He saved me from a sticky situation indeed! Anyhoo, I paid him 50 bucks, of my own free will, and wished him good night. His smile at that time, truly warmed me...

I did feel good after that. Kind people should always be encouraged... It makes them feel that someone is appreciating their efforts.

And I did my one little bit yesterday.

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Just a song in my head...

I have been humming this particular song all day today... Its from the Twilight Soundtrack, called as the Flightless Bird, American Mouth...by...I don't know whom... But anyhoo, don't you guys think that the lyrics are rather bizzare? Seriously, I can neither make head nor tail of it! Am I the only one????

Spent the afternoon (so far) in watching movies (Austin Powers) and eating puffed rice... Mmmm... This is my idea of 'chilling out'. Too sleepy to read, go out or do something productive. See, this is what happens if you wake me up early. Especially when I've slept for three-and-a-half hours. Only.

Just watching the preview of Sherlock Holmes. Looks nice, but rather too creepy. I mean, the real Holmes isn't creepy at all...no, just, you know, bizzare.

You guys check it out too, here.

Wish you all a nice, equally lazy weekend!

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The Show

 

"I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I don't know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

Slow it down

Make it stop

Or else my heart is going to pop

'Cause it's too much

Yeah, it's a lot

To be something I'm not

I'm a fool

Out of love

'Cause I just can't get enough

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I don't know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I'm just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show

The sun is hot

In the sky

Just like a giant spotlight

The people follow the sign

And synchronize in time

It's a joke

Nobody knows

They've got a ticket to that show

Yeah

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I dont know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I'm just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show

Just enjoy the show

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I dont know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I'm just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show

dum de dum

dudum de dum

Just enjoy the show

dum de dum

dudum de dum

Just enjoy the show

I want my money back

I want my money back

I want my money back

Just enjoy the show

I want my money back

I want my money back

I want my money back

Just enjoy the show"

- The Show by Lenka

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Hello!

Hello everybody!
This is my official introductory post. The post in which I introduce myself. Which is a hard thing to do ;)
I always envy the people who know where their story starts... I've read in millions of books; they always start like, I was fifteen when 'whatever' happened...blah blah blah...and it changed my life...blah blah...or thats when I knew what the purpose of my life was...
Or I could just start in the good ol' fashioned way, "Once upon a time..."
*sigh*
How nice would it be if I could write about myself like that...
But I can't. My story is not like that. Its different. Or maybe just the same, like everyone else's :)

So I'll just list down random/unusual/weiered/nice things about me:

• I'm 23.
• I love living in the city
• I love the hustle & bustle, the traffic, the lights, the city life.
• I can milk a cow. (not kidding)
• I can dance pretty well.
• I can sing better than I can dance.
• I have an i-mate JAMin phone right now.
• I am in love with Edward Cullen.
• I am a Twilight Saga nerd.
• I love to cook.
• I love to read.
• I am a people person (being a Leo)
• I like to be the centre of attraction...
• I like British english more than American english
• I hate Hinglish (hindi+english)
• I can speak four languages.
• I have a good sense of humor, as you'll soon find out ;)

Hmmm.... That's all I can think about at the moment...
So, this is who I am & that's what I write about!

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