Stupid

Weekend. Exciting.



The world isn't an attractive place tonight.

Sunday

Achingly, intensely lonely.

Crash

It has finally sunk in. And I can't stop crying.

fuck it.

Ah Orkut, how you never fail to charm and delight

Sushanta:
sodd off! who do u thik u are anyways ... junkie!

Mia:
But of course.

Sushanta:
yea wateva! Y do u so hate ppl appreciating a pic?? unless they'r sleavy..

Mia:
Oh you misunderstand me. I don't hate at all. I am merely offended by the absence of grammar and orthography.

Sushanta:
oh is tht so?? thts kinda cute. I get it. Probably u can advise 'em to go peek into an english dictionary n then scrap you with appropriate grammar n sentence structure ;)

Sushanta:
by the way, am sorry for bein a lil obnoxious! guess it was rude of me to scrap stuff to someone i dnt evn knw :(

Mia:
I'm not really that interested in their grammatical well-being. I just wish keenly to be spared the trouble of being visited by their comments.

And please, don't feel compelled to apologise. You are entitled to your opinions. Ideally not on my scrapbook, but then again, this world is far from ideal.

Sushanta:
Of course,i completely understand but correctly pointed, it's a world of free people ... right to expression but should retaliate if it hurts you. Dnt bother..I wasn't on a guillotine to apologize ... it was my choice!

Sushanta:
do read novels or short stories..wht kinda books do u read?

Sushanta:
Oops! ... tons of grammar errors, perhaps u can underline n chk 'em! no pun intended ...

Mia:
Charming though your interest is, I am afraid I find myself quite unable to further our acquaintance at this moment. Wish you an enlightened life.


... and 'Ignore User'.

I'm starting a movement. The Cult of Icy Set-downs, anyone?

sigh.

My cousin was date raped. I am upset.

The four stages of neediness

From here. Link through the gorgeous and lovely Aishwarya.

And while we are pretending that this blog is not dead

Mia: BCL has sent me a strange mailer

Aishwarya: ?

Mia: Be intellectually stimulated from our recent collection of Lifestyle, Self- development, Fiction and Children books

(it's an advert for their bookfair stall)

Aishwarya: ah.. :D

Mia: intellectually stimulated by children books

and i had thought that the day would never come

Aishwarya: I am!

Mia: how do children books grow up?

Aishwarya: they don't

it are like peter pan

ooh

or aslan

Mia: i are not narnia-read

Aishwarya: illiterate in the ways of christian indoctrination you are

Mia: but i can sing twenty hymns

Aishwarya: I also

Mia: including one in hindi and one in bangla

Aishwarya: I have nice book titled Come and Praise

I do not sings hymns in hindi. or anything in bangla.

Mia: dil ka darwaza khula hua
humaare dil mein aao prabhu
koi tujhsa dekha na kahin
sach hain yeh mere yeshu

i find the translation of 'my lord is true' utterly fascinating

Aishwarya: LOL yes

Mia: unless whoever wrote it actually meant 'my lord is real'

maybe it is a song to convert little bengali girls to christianity. by affirming the reality of jesus

Aishwarya: LOL

Mia: i am sure there was another hindi hymn, can't remember the lines, though

oh, do you know, i also know the russian do re mi song?

Aishwarya: I knew one in gaelic at one point. :P

!!

Mia: and a hindi militant song praising netaji

my god, no wonder i have turned out strange.

Aishwarya: :O

Mia: considering what was being drilled into my head in my pre-pubescent and early adolescent days

Aishwarya: poor darling

Mia: oh shite, i just remembered the bhakti geeti style bangla hymn

Aishwarya: hm?

Mia: you have to hear it to believe it

Aishwarya: .. I am afraid to

Mia: it is best not to, i think.

Sketchy

I put pencil to paper after a really long time today. And it was a bit of a disaster.

Bleh, I can't even draw anymore.

Me-me

Tagged. Ergo, six scintillating tidbits of information about me that will make you want to get to know me Really Well.

1. I am a stiletto wearer at heart. In an ideal world, I would wear pretty stilettoes and sashay gracefully all the time, and people would gasp and be struck speechless at the incredible beauty of my legs and the gentle sway of my hips. In real life, I have two pairs with 4" heels, and after putting them on once every two months, I wince for a while and then grimly soldier on in a drunken totter as my legs die and go to hell.

2. I am addicted to obsessing. I ALWAYS have a Current Obsession.

3. Limelight! Come, I love you, I want you. You must be on me! Okay, but in a gentle covert sort of way.

4. I miss being on stage. I miss dancing.

5. Generalizing, but women don't like me. Usually, I get along far better with men. Or women who are quite a bit older than me. Aishwarya, my oracular love, says that this is because the others are all jealous of my Divine Radiance. This must be true.

6. The bizarrest thing that has ever happened to me is hilarious, but I can't put that down here because, really, TMI.

Arre, wah.

You Should Be a Romance Novelist

You see the world as it should be, and this goes double for all matters of the heart. You can find the romance in any situation, and you would make a talented romance story writer... And while you may be a traditional romantic, you're just as likely to be drawn to quirky or dark love stories. As long as it deals with infatuation, heartbreak, and soulmates - you could write it.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

And maybe I will also start looking like the girl in the picture, then.

Randomness

My mother took break from TV-watching to come light dhoop in front of pictures of various gods and goddesses on her shelf and accidentally dropped the dhoop.
Reverently she said, "Sorry bhogoban, murder-ta dekhchhilam."

Which Ankh-Morpork City Watch(?) Character Are You?

Lord Havelock Vetinari
Take this quiz!








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In which we realize that we have run out of people to rant to

I don't blog anymore because I don't have time. All I have is work, work and work, and missed deadlines. And though I've been meaning to write a couple of posts for a long time, haven't been able to manage.

Regardless, 2007 was a good year. Great, even. Hope 2008 is even better.

Happy new year, everyone.

This city, it is so small.

I feel needy. And curiously depressed.

Say hello to new improved stitch-removed Toots

What has been happening?

Surgery. Pain. SWELLING. Coming to terms with the fact that one's face, given enough surgical things done to one's teeth, can look like a cross between an overripe papaya and Jay Leno.

PHISPC. Lovely editor. Men who cannot reference. Urghhh. Workworkwork.

Above average. Computer hanky panky. Deadlines. Missed deadlines. Impending deadlines. Dead-lines. DOOM.

Paper. Workwork. But good paper. Nice marks.

Exams. Exam preparation nada. Hyperventilation.

Cancelled bridge games. Waaaaaaaah!

Nandigram. Silent march. Read.

Taslima Nasreen. Curfew. Read.

This city has gone mad. I cannot explain it, defend it, justify it. I can only hope to live my life every day and hope that everyone and everything moves on.

Scaling

The Tooths has been cleaned.

Owww!

Dental surgery next week. To remove three wisdom teeth. One of which is straight and carving my cheek up on the side; the rest two have developed horizontally and are eroding the base of my molars and pressing against nerves in my jaw as they grow.
General anaesthesia and hospitalisation. And I have so much work! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Plug

Read Amitabha Bagchi's Above Average. It really is rather good. It is not the kind of book that I would normally pick up without a recommendation, so am terribly glad that I was nudged towards it. It took me some time to actually get around to reading it, since I was busy writing zillions of tests and papers (which is partly the reason—many other reasons as well, to be explained at length if energy and enthusiasm prevails—that I haven't been blogging for a very long time now) but it was great when I finally did read. It's not a fast-paced book, but it is absorbing in its own way. I think the reason why I was so taken with the book is that it is about a person who is exactly not-me. I decided not to study engineering the summer after my board examinations and decided that I wanted to study literature instead. Had I not got through to JU, however, I'd have studied taken the year off to study for the IIT-JEE, and gone on to study CS (I assume so—I suppose I'll never actually know). I've often wondered, in the last four and a half years, what my life would have been like had I decided otherwise. This book... it brought that wondering back in a way that hasn't happened before; for a couple of days after reading the book, I longed to have gone to an IIT. In fact, I sat and idly fantasised about taking the JEE again after I'm done with my Masters. It sounds silly, but that is how effective this book has been for me. Read it and figure out for yourself whether it is that good or whether I have gone completely nuts.

Aarghh

I've been so disgusted with life and things recently that I haven't even had the energy to post. Things are weird, at home, and at university. Maybe I'll post all about it sometime. Maybe. Bleh.

I have HORRIBLE toothache. Wisdom tooth carving my right cheek out on the inside. Massive ulcerations from it. Swollen face. Howwwwwwwwwl.

Deconstruction

SaussureBarthesDerrida. SourBoreDire.

A world where women sport fashionable tattoos and pose perfectly for pictures on the beach. I'd never have cut it anyway. A worldful of ache.

But my world, it is warm and fuzzy and unfinished. I belong.

And maybe one day

I will go to sleep, and not have to wake up at all.

Aaaaaaaaa, ants!

My bed is infested with ants. They are back. This is a disaster.

In other news, Kombol has a new home. The Mad Hatter shall henceforth be known as the Mad Catter.

Kitten Update

Kombol's would be new home has not worked out. The family has never had a pet before, and clearly had no idea what it entailed. None of the people we met were interested in the kitten, and the would be owner was away at college. Also they were horribly disappointed that she is a stray, and not a Persian. In order to stop her from running out onto the street, they wanted to tie the poor baby up, or keep her locked in a 3ft x 3ft x 1 ft birdcage. Not surprisingly, we brought her back. So the home-hunt is still on. Any suggestions, please?

Moan

I dressed up very prettily today, and then B and I had a perfectly lovely lunch date (Hau Hua is incredible!), and then my wallet got stolen at Oxford Bookstore. Bloody thief. Bloody bookstore. I kept my wallet on a pile of books, moved away about 3 steps, and came back in less than 5 seconds, and it was gone! According to the store assistants, their surveillance system consists of scrolling/streaming video, and nothing is actually recorded. What the fuck? I asked what they do in case someone lifts a book—apparently, nothing; on an average, thirty books are lifted every month, supposedly. I don't bloody believe them.

Items lost: Rs. 620 in cash, house keys, one passport size photograph of myself, hundreds of thousands of receipts, some visiting cards, and assorted crumpled bits that are important only to me. And a very nice wallet. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

The last time B and I were out dressed formally, he lost his phone. Conclusion: I must not wear a saree on dates.

P.S.: I have Bartimaeus, part 2, and Kombol has found a home, and Hanky cheered me up with tea. And I did have a rather great afternoon. So some consolation.

In Which We Intimate Many Things

Okay, been very lazy and putting off blog post for a long time. Short updates, ergo.

Was very ill for a couple of days about two weeks ago. Stomach infection. Still somewhat bothered. But wonderful afternoon-evening spent with P, D and B.

Belgian chocolates are YUMMM. And Lucky Strikes. Every Amreek-returning person must now bring me Belgian chocolates and/or Lucky Strike Silvers. Otherwise, I shall disown or nag them—whichever they dislike more.

My employers are bleddy morons. One of the cheques was returned by the banks because it was post-dated. Bleddy 2009! I have sent irate email demanding new cheque and reimbursement for hassle incurred.

I have two pairs of nice new shoes. For a total of Rs. 480! Muahaha. Blessed be Donut and Parzan (like Tarzan) for traipsing patiently all over New Market, and Waffle, who was there part of the way. The jutis are pretty, but the stilettoes are really sexy. Sample this:

I bought the first of the Bartimaeus books, and I am hooked. Have nagged Hanky into the conviction that she must buy the other two for me as an advance birthday gift. To be given NOW.

Watched The Invasion. Had me terrified in bits, towards the beginning, but then blithered and blathered and degenerated into this bleh piece of extraordinary badness. And Daniel Craig—what perfectly disastrous hair! My lust, it recedes.

Am not talking to my dad. Big bad fight with him.

The camera and I are making friends with each other. Though the picture quality for the night images is sorely inadequate (since I hate using the flash), I am adoring it. And clicking like mad.

I am bored; I want work. Academics is not particularly interesting at the moment. And am not feeling too inspired or creative, either. Best time to do boring work and earn money, therefore.

Kombol is a tiny little kitten that a friend found on the streets last week. She's black, with a white belly and limbs, excitable, and very very adorable. The friend, alas, has four cats—two of whom have been recently sterilised—and cannot provide permanent shelter for her. In fact, she can't keep it for longer than this weekend. If we don't find an adoptive parent soon, the poor orphan baby will have to be turned out into the streets. Would you like to have her? Or do you know someone who would? My friend will take care of sterilisation in a few months' time. These are two videos of her:





I want her bad, but my mum won't let me keep a cat. :(

Teleute, defined.

[noun]: A master blogger
[noun]: A master of storytelling

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com


I wish I had a story to tell, something to do. I'm feeling restless.

I have an exciting new camera, and am relatively rich at the moment. But now is not the time for that. This ennui is... dire.

Teleute [noun]: A person of questionable sanity who starts their own cult

About right.

The Life and Times of TinyToots, an Excerpt

Yesterday, I jumped into a bucket. Quite by accident, though. I was sitting on the windowsill of my bathroom and quietly enjoying my smoke. But I forgot that the bucket was underneath while getting off. So bucket and I fell. And there was a loud sound. And I hurt my knee. And the handle of the bucket came off, and I fixed it again with some difficulty. Very undignified. Somewhat bewildering as well.

And the world was out to piss me off yesterday. Prima donnas and morons and inconsiderate idiots and presumptuous bastards and plain stupid sour grapes. But Hanky and Waffle were nice to me. And I bought very beautiful notebooks. And had cherry brandy.

I have no money. Jerks made me work, but are not paying up now. Jerks. Morons. Other choice invectives. And I spent all my other money on books and food and coffee and computer things and camera. There are many people that I want to treat. But I'm so bloody broke. And my camera is on a plane. I want it. NOW.

I want two thousand rupees to buy pretty shoes and bags and t-shirts and backpack and earrings and batteries and coffee. And I want someone to buy me cigarettes. I'd like to feel pretty and pampered.

Be My Baby

The night we met, I knew I needed you so
And if I had the chance, I'd never let you go.
So won't you say you love me,
I'll make you so proud of me.
We'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go.

So won't you, please, (be my, be my baby)
Be my little baby, (my one and only baby)
Say you'll be my darlin', (be my, be my baby)
Be my baby now, (my one and only baby)
Wha-oh-oh-oh.

I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see.
For every kiss you give me I'll give you three.
Oh, since the day I saw you
I have been waiting for you.
You know I will adore you 'til eternity.

So won't you, please, (be my, be my baby)
Be my little baby, (my one and only baby)
Say you'll be my darlin', (be my, be my baby)
Be my baby now, (my one and only baby)
Wha-oh-oh-oh.

So come on and, please (be my, be my baby)
Be my little baby, (my one and only baby)
Say you'll be my darlin', (be my, be my baby)
Be my baby now, (my one and only baby)
Wha-oh-oh-oh.

(Be my, be my baby), Be my little baby.
(My one and only baby), oh,
(Be my, be my baby), oh,
(My one and only baby),
Wha-oh-oh-oh-oh.

The Ronettes, 1963

Listen to it here.

There Is an End

Words disappear,
Words once so clear,
Only echoes passing through the night.

The lines on my face,
Your fingers once traced,
Fading reflection of what was.

Thoughts re-arrange,
Familiar now strange,
All my skin is drifting on the wind.

Spring brings the rain,
With winter comes pain,
Every season has an end.

I try to see through the disguise,
But the clouds were there,
Blocking out the sun (the sun).

Thoughts re-arrange,
Familiar now strange,
All my skin is drifting on the wind.

Spring brings the rain,
With winter comes pain,
Every season has an end.

There's an end,
There's an end,
There's an end,
There's an end,
There's an end.

Holly Golightly and the Greenhornes, 2005

You can listen to it here.

Fame and Celebrity

At long last! It seems that I—and this poor, hardly-used blog of mine—have finally arrived. Autograph hunters, prepare.