PostScript

2010-08-11T00:14:00.004+05:30

There is something in me so deeply flawed that it allows me not to take a lesson which should by now be etched within my veins.

2009-05-25T19:40:00.000+05:30

Worried about bitch? Beware of dog.

2009-04-22T12:52:00.002+05:30

We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness'.

Beverly Clark, Shall We Dance, 2004

2009-04-11T19:56:00.003+05:30

As always when she saw Roddy, Elinor was conscious of a slightly giddy feeling, a throb of sudden pleasure, a feeling that it was incumbent for her to be very matter-of-fact and unemotional. Because it was so very obvious that Roddy, although he loved her, didn't feel about her the way she felt about him. The first sight of him did something to her, twisted her heart round so that it almost hurt. Absurd that a man - an ordinary, yes, a perfectly ordinary young man - should be able to do that to one! That the mere look of him should set the world spinning, that his voice should make you want - just a little - to cry . . . Love surely should be a pleasurable emotion - not something that hurt you by its intensity . . .
One thing was clear: one must be very, very careful to be off-hand and casual about it all. Men didn't like devotion and adoration. Certainly Roddy didn't.

Agatha Christie, Sad Cypress, Collins, UK, 1940

New title, new template

2008-12-20T22:46:00.001+05:30

Come, see.

So single

2008-11-25T20:29:00.004+05:30

Girl gets home from work, fixes herself a drink and a snack, surfs the internets, reads a book.

I'm not lamenting the absence of firm couplehood. Just wryly observing my transformation into a 'single in the city' cliche.

Heh.

The Weekend of the Hysterics

2008-11-10T10:52:00.002+05:30

Is thankfully over. And hopefully not to be repeated anytime in the near future.

2008-11-09T19:44:00.001+05:30

For the first time ever I'm tempted

2008-09-17T10:35:00.002+05:30

I've been having these horrible insecure dreams of late. I wake up feeling sad and unsure, and spend the rest of the day feeling hesitant.

I think I'm becoming paranoid about intruding. And scared of being left out. It's... difficult.

Stupid

2008-08-01T22:37:00.003+05:30

Weekend. Exciting.

The world isn't an attractive place tonight.

Sunday

2008-06-07T03:01:00.000+05:30

Achingly, intensely lonely.

Crash

2008-04-24T12:29:00.000+05:30

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

2008-04-10T00:15:00.000+05:30

fuck it.

Ah Orkut, how you never fail to charm and delight

2008-04-04T09:16:00.000+05:30

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?

2008-03-30T14:54:00.000+05:30

sigh.

2008-03-08T16:44:00.000+05:30

My cousin was date raped. I am upset.

The four stages of neediness

2008-03-07T10:48:00.000+05:30

From here. Link through the gorgeous and lovely Aishwarya.

And while we are pretending that this blog is not dead

2008-03-07T10:40:00.000+05:30

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

2008-02-02T16:02:00.000+05:30

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

2008-02-02T11:18:00.000+05:30

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.

2008-01-31T11:46:00.000+05:30

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

2008-01-24T09:44:00.000+05:30

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?

2008-01-06T15:18:00.000+05:30

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

2008-01-05T15:00:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-12-01T15:54:00.000+05:30

I feel needy. And curiously depressed.

Say hello to new improved stitch-removed Toots

2007-11-23T10:01:00.000+05:30

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

2007-11-02T14:44:00.000+05:30

The Tooths has been cleaned.

Owww!

2007-10-31T14:48:00.000+05:30

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

2007-10-23T10:47:00.000+05:30

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

2007-10-05T14:14:00.000+05:30

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

2007-09-28T14:21:00.000+05:30

SaussureBarthesDerrida. SourBoreDire.

2007-09-22T02:35:00.000+05:30

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

2007-09-13T12:45:00.000+05:30

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

Aaaaaaaaa, ants!

2007-09-13T12:03:00.000+05:30

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

2007-09-09T05:01:00.000+05:30

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

2007-09-08T10:07:00.000+05:30

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

2007-09-07T13:47:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-08-28T14:09:00.000+05:30

[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

2007-08-17T11:56:00.000+05:30

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

2007-08-15T14:47:00.000+05:30

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

2007-08-14T14:53:00.000+05:30

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

2007-08-12T11:12:00.000+05:30

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

Wishlist

2007-08-09T13:48:00.000+05:30

I need time. To sit and be by myself. To do nothing and just exist. To be mindless, to be blank. To talk and laugh without recapitulating. To be anonymous and alone. To quietly have my coffee and cigarette. To read my book, to sleep. No questions, no answers. I need time to not-explain, not-share.

Fruity

2007-08-08T13:13:00.000+05:30

Hello, I am a pineapple.

Duplexitous

2007-08-03T12:29:00.000+05:30

My Afternoon Adventure.

Are all advertisers mad?

2007-07-27T09:26:00.000+05:30

I wrote a copy test for an advertising firm yesterday. They wanted answers that weren't direct, and asked us to think 'laterally' (as opposed to literally, as a friend puts it). One of the questions asked us to write a limerick on an existing brand of soap. For the longest time, I could think of no brands apart from Lux (rhyming with 'flux') and Palmolive (rhyming with 'die or live'). This is what I finally came up with. And then collapsed on the floor giggling.

On Jai Soap:

Jai soap ki jai ho
Keero ke dil mein bhay ho
Gandagi hatao
Badbooko bhagao
Mehkoge isse nahaya toh

I bow. And wait for the applause.

Did you know

2007-06-29T12:49:00.000+05:30

... that a mesquite is a legume?

And here I thought that it was French for mosquito.

Sorry. I know this is stupid, but it is the most interesting thought that I have had in days. Life is... dire.

2007-06-28T15:31:00.000+05:30

Lonely, very.

2007-06-23T14:35:00.000+05:30

What's a tram got to do without a bus? :(

2007-06-18T10:13:00.000+05:30

And when you walked away from me unhappy as it rained a miserable rain and turned to look but did not smile it broke my heart as I stood waiting for you to speak to me waiting waiting waiting to tell you how I felt but the phone it kept on ringing ringing and ringing so I turned around and crumpled.

2007-06-18T04:46:00.000+05:30

Splashes of white light against a black canvas and moonlight glittering in the night sky and spilt red wine and hot molten wax and climbing to the roof of the tall tall house and looking up and looking down and laughing and chanting and sometimes just sitting quietly and staring in amazement and moments of awkwardness from not knowing what to do and gardens of bright light and visions of a place that no one else knows and I want to reach… and sometimes I remember why I could have been in love with you.

2007-06-12T12:24:00.000+05:30

No, I do not want to steal your husband. Or your boyfriend. Or your dog. Or cow, monkey, hen, whatever.

And I really do abhor ill-mannered people.

Grishmarto

2007-06-01T12:42:00.000+05:30

Je shey murgi noiko ami, thaki hnarir majhe—
Gham jhorchhe jhor jhor kore roddurer ei jhnajhe!
Gham jodi aar jhorte thake, gorom baare aaro—
Morbo ami hajar bar noile hajar baro!
Pochbe amar lash ta khnaje—gondho chharbe baje.

Update: This is a very very loose translation of this, which was written two summers ago.

Secret

2007-05-31T11:54:00.000+05:30

I read something today that touched me in an odd unexpected way that makes me not want to link to it because I don’t want to share and it’s a strange fantasy I know because after all it’s up there for all the world to see but at least you won’t know what made me cry.

And then, suddenly.

2007-05-26T13:18:00.000+05:30

Not suddenly what. Just suddenly.

Exhausted

2007-05-17T12:45:00.000+05:30

And I'm not quite sure why.

I'll be back and blogging. Soon, I hope. But not quite yet. Vatsala, Dhruva? I'll do the tag, I promise.

Gah

2007-05-08T12:03:00.000+05:30

Wtf? Every person that I am messaging is going offline.

Milan!

2007-05-07T13:28:00.000+05:30

Please God, please please please please please? I'll be very good, I promise.

Eeeks!

2007-05-02T12:22:00.000+05:30

I am too fat to fit into my nice black trousers that I bought just six months ago!

Goodbye, Size 25. :(

Two Summers Ago

2007-05-01T09:38:00.000+05:30

I was so very young and naive, then. I still am, but not quite so much, I think. Definitely soberer.
Looking through other people's picture albums. Feeling old, somewhat.

And please God, let us pretend that I didn't write the exam that I just did?

The Obligatory Return-to-Blog Post

2007-04-29T00:09:00.000+05:30

This is just going to be brief updates. I haven't the energy for detailed descriptions even though I'm blogging after ages, I think.

1. The second joint on the ring finger of my left hand is fractured. It happened when I I hurt my finger on the first day of trek practice. Gah. And I am, apparently, beginning to show signs of very early Osteoporosis (one of the causes of which is evidently smoking) and have been ordered a Bone Density Scan. Along with physiotherapy sessions for the stoopid finger. Peachy.

2. Yes, I am still allowed to go for the trek, provided I take care not to hurt the finger any further and all. So I leave on the 17th of May, I think, and am back on the 1st of June. Yay, getaway!

3. It was my mother's birthday yesterday, and Waffle and I cooked dinner. His mutton was brilliant, and my biryani was pretty good even though slightly overboiled—and that I blame entirely on the microwave going bust in the middle.

4. My exams are from Monday, but I haven't started studying yet. And I got crappy marks in my internal assessments for one paper, and it's very 'DUDE, what the FUCK?' because I know I wrote better answers than what I appear to have written.

5. I worked a LOT the week before this—I was averaging two and a half hours of sleeep—and earned a lot of money. Muhahahahahaha. And no, I will not treat you even if you ask me to. It was money very hard-earned. But YAY, I'm rich!

6. Realisation of a stupid, manipulative, conniving little bitch.

7. Many revelationary conversations, and Telephone-e Dushtumi, a.k.a. TeleTumi.

8. Wonderful days, and an afternoon.

9. Stressed out bedtimes.

10. Out of steam.

Sigh

2007-04-27T13:30:00.000+05:30

Sometimes, things are just so difficult.

Mixed reactions

2007-04-23T01:24:00.000+05:30

Woohoo!
And what the fuck?

Surfacing. Momentarily.

2007-04-20T11:41:00.000+05:30

Insanely busy. :(

2007-04-17T13:26:00.000+05:30

Livelifehopelessly.

It's a storm outside, and I can't stop thinking.

2007-04-10T16:00:00.000+05:30

The first walk in the rain. The piggy back ride so that my feet wouldn't get wet.

It's not a night for solitude, this night.

I need new memories.

Pieces

2007-04-08T13:54:00.000+05:30

I've been very frazzled lately. So many papers, assignments, tests! Gah, I HATE end of term. 'Tis insane!
I spent all of last Monday night illustrating a kiddy story that I wrote for my Children's Literature course. Turned out rather cute, I think. Not brilliant, but cute. Illustration is not my forte, though. and I am NEVER doing sixteen panels in a single night. Ever. Ten hours of my life... gone, whoosh! Passed out at a waffly location Tuesday afternoon, therefore, and was woken up from sleep by Gelato-Lady and dragged back to class, for which only two other people turned up. Awkward, to say the least.
And then Wednesday night, I had tummy trouble, headache, backache, sore throat, mouth ulcer, a test to study for the next day, quarrel with parents and general attack of the cranks. Bleh. Spent the night alternatively passing out atop my and waking up worried shitless about test.
Very strange and weird things happening at university. Bizarre.
Have had my Fables and Y: The Last Man updated, so yay.
And finally managed to get hold of picture with Ian Anderson. So YAY.
Went for practice for trek today, and promptly managed to injure self. Ring finger of left hand snapped backwards when ball accidentally hit just the tip of my finger. Owwww. My finger, 'tis all blue and swollen and gross right now. Looks like an undernourished eggplant fruit. Hand more or less out of commission, since the finger doesn't bend or straighten or do any other useful thing. It just looks ugly and hurts like a bitch. Am very unfit, by the way, as I realised thanks to practice.

Also, finished making my CV today, finally.

My mom got me new racks and tables for my books and thingies yesterday. So Waffle came, and helped clean up my room today. A veritable struggle 'twas, but we won, and I have a clean room. Happiness.

Toots Wants to Go Sleep.

2007-04-05T08:13:00.000+05:30

I have been working and working and working, and am absolutely exhausted. And I have a test tomorrow again. :(

On a different note, it is funny to see comments again.

It's a Tag!

2007-03-30T13:32:00.000+05:30

Courtesy: Amy.

The rules of the game: Get tagged; list five things that have not been revealed on your blog; tag five others.

1. I am a nervous wreck right before a play. Until I actually go on stage.
2. I got stoned out of my mind and kissed a girl once.
3. I love compliments.
4. I can't sing to save my life. Though I'd love to be able to.
5. A mammography is the third most physically painful thing that I have ever experienced.

And I tag all those silly people whose blogs I read everyday, but who haven't posted in aaaaages. Yes, I mean you.

By the way, if anybody cares, comments have been turned back on. And they'll stay for maybe two or three days. Have a ball.

Lost in Translation

2007-03-26T21:31:00.000+05:30

Sunday lunch was a success. Cooked an entire meal by myself for the first time, and it has been firmly established that I can. So YAY! Post lunch was good as well. The hanky, it is a beautiful friend; the waffle, it is a wonderful boy.

And oh, I got loads of marks for my Death paper, even though I have completely messed up with Renaissance. So half-a-Yay for that.

Shitty class in the evening was evened out by hot singaras and crisp and yummy nimkis that followed. So Yay again.

Wow. How Yayee I am today. Hee.

Quietus Interruptus

2007-03-25T12:29:00.000+05:30

Been a while since I've blogged about my day. Good day, actually. Lazy. Mommy's off to the Sunderbans to eat tigers lest the tigers eat her. Clandestine meeting of a waffly nature in the morning; in the afternoon, library and The Namesake, which I rather liked. Mellow and peaceful, the film. And then grocery shopping, and then cooking and cleaning. Made mushrooms. Will know at lunch tomorrow if it works. Good night, world!

2007-03-24T11:32:00.000+05:30

It

is

OUR

Kubla!

?

2007-03-19T07:43:00.000+05:30

Oh my!

Okay, enough.

2007-03-19T07:13:00.000+05:30

No more, I say. Enough angst, enough said. Done with it.

Rage

2007-03-13T20:28:00.000+05:30

'Ei muhurte onyo kono channel e er chaite beshi akorshoniyo kichhu dekhte paaben na'

Fuck all.

2007-03-13T12:04:00.000+05:30

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRH.

Verbatim

2007-03-12T04:24:00.000+05:30

"At Jadavpur University, cigarettes are openly available in most canteens, except in the air-conditioned one."

From here.

Khyukhyukhyukhyukhyuk!

Amenity Centre, anyone?

The Romantic Test

2007-03-11T15:21:00.000+05:30

I. Upon Wordsworth's setting foot upon the shores of France in November 1791

I landed lonely as a rain
On the land of Louis' reign;
Where the queen was a whore
And the king was a bore—
Revolution them did cause much pain.

II. Musings

I wandered long in Fountainbleu,
'Midst gardens green I thought of you,
What strange sights you must have seen,
When they put you in the guillotine!

III. Encounters

Along those mountains, misty, dewey,
I came across a lonesome Louis.
He offered me things from the patisserie,
I gave him up to the Committee.

IV. Reflections on the Nature of Revolution

Oh what joy is revolution, such progress, such evolution!
String them up in the Tuileries, gut them in the galleries!
Oh Marat! Oh Robespierre! Oh keepers of all that I hold dear,
Will you think me very silly if I offer you a Wordsworth Willy?

V. Syllabus

Teary-eyed Wollstonecraft,
Thomas Paine drunk and daft,
Pompous fart Edmund Burke,
Blake sunk in mire and murk,
Coleridge smashed on opium,
Percy Bysshe lazy bum,
Clare and Crabbe run amok,
Poor William stares in shock.

Copyright: DSM.

9th March, 2007. Fandom.

2007-03-11T10:31:00.000+05:30

Indian Ocean

The evening started off great. Then it involved jabbing people with elbows and making way forward and climbing across and creeping under barricades to get further forward. And ended with me right up front, standing on a chair, waving wildly, singing along at the top of my voice. I even crept backstage at the end of the show and shook hands with people and gushed "BIG FAN!"
I was born to be groupie, I tell you.

Translation

2007-03-08T12:18:00.000+05:30

à la Alal.

Of waffles and Tooleute

2007-03-05T15:04:00.000+05:30

Last Wednesday, post the book history test—preparation for which had consisted of passing out atop my books at one in the morning and waking up at twenty eight minutes past nine—I fell asleep in the evening while Waffle was making me waffles. Woke up with a start upon being prodded by Waffle, and realised that I had been dreaming of a duodecimo being folded and unfolded! And then I fell asleep again, and dreamt of being a silent witness to the Statute of Anne being drafted after the lapse of the Licensing Act in 1695. After I woke up, I ate waffles, and spent time being disturbed and scared of ever going to sleep again. There's more book history floating around in my head than I can handle.

***

And tonight...

Me: Wow
I am impressed

UaTH: You are not impressed. You are a shona.

Me: I am an impressed shona
Like gold tooling on a book

UaTH: Tooleute

Me: Shyte. Wayyyyyy too much book history

***

Wayyyyyy too much book history, I tell you. But I like waffles. And Tooleute, too. :)

Unholi

2007-03-04T02:28:00.000+05:30

And while the rest of the world is prancing about looking like variegated plants under psychedelic lights, I am sitting at home and doing work. Not out of choice or compulsion, but simply because of the lack of people to be a variegated plant under psychedelic lights with. Bleh.

Dis-grace-ful.

Dhut! I am off to drown my sorrows in the shower. And cherry brandy, if possible. You people have a good day.

Tenacious Toots, aka The Return

2007-03-02T12:41:00.000+05:30

No no! I am not gone
Or been depressed and passed away
I've been aliven' and thrivin'
And very busy for many a day

Right. So where were we? Toots has become a lazy bum. Or at least keyboard lazy. She has been doing many things, but not been blogging about them. Terrible Toots. She deserves to be soundly scolded. And now that you have subjected her to your censorious glare and stare and Fred Astaire, she considers herself appropriately reproved, and cracks a lame joke in contrition.

I went to the bookfair the weekend before the last. It was quite like the Maidan fair, except for the fact that we were so unfamiliar with the geography of the place that it took us a long time to get around and locate familiar stalls, and we managed—much to my horror—since we were pressed for time, to not locate the food pavilion at all! DisP Boy and I spent a lot of time at the Worldview store, and I picked up a couple of books from there—Darin Strauss' The Real McCoy and Roddy Doyle's Rory and Ita, both in fairly good condition, and for a hundred bucks each. Had cotton candy and walked about a whole lot and looked longingly at many many books, and sighed about being citizens of Broke. And we also sat behind the stalls, and had cake and chips and cigarettes.
Now for the journey back home. We got out through one of the gates beyond the Hyatt, that is, the far end of the fair from the Beleghata bus stop. And then we waited and waited and waited for buses, but got none. I don't mean that there weren't any buses, but it's just that they were impossible to climb onto and into. The crowds were simply insane! I don't think I'd be exaggerating too much if I say that there were people hanging even from the footboard. Even the Whiteliners were full, and them two moronic buses simply whizzed past us without even acknowledging our presence. Hmph. So we trudged along in weary frustration until we'd walked a good half kilometre, and had reached Chingrighata. All along the way, mind you, not a single bus with a human-sized vacuum, and not a single share car thingy. By the time we reached Chingrighata, we were ravenous, and just had to get food. And since there were no buses anyway, we decided to grab spring rolls and chicken wings from Arambagh. While the food was being heated, however, I noticed a white Garia-New Town bus emerge insidiously out of nowhere, and wonder of wonders, it seemed like that there would be place to stand inside it!
So we ran, made a mad scramble for the bus, plates of food in hand. And we clambered on, adding to the human pile inside, and while clinging on to the handholds for dear life and being squished unto asphyxiation, we proceeded to munch our way through our food, ignoring all shocked, disapproving and gluttonous glances. And of course I was too short to reach the railing thingy, and Dis-P Boy had to hold on to my bag so that I could eat without falling off. And of course we were carrying backpacks and therefore occupying twice as much space as we otherwise we would have and therefore were doubly glared at. And of course Dis-P Boy dropped a chicken bone on the head of a woman seated in front of us.
After our elaborate and lordly meal, we stuck the chicken bones in our pockets and finally got off the bus at Ruby. Then we managed to get a completely empty bus upto Gariahat, and then absolutely tired and exhausted, and reduced to despair, took a taxi back home.

It was not a journey that I am likely to forget anytime soon. :)

Morons

2007-03-01T15:30:00.000+05:30

People are such fucks.

I'm feeling

2007-02-26T05:36:00.000+05:30

A little not-happy. :(

Candlelight and telebhaja

2007-02-25T13:29:00.000+05:30

My perfect evening. :)

Lmao lmao lmao!

2007-02-24T12:49:00.000+05:30

India's Hottest College Chick Contest.

Please. Explore.

Teaser

2007-02-23T11:36:00.000+05:30

I've been very caught up lately, and haven't had the energy to blog. I even have a draft saved from days ago, but have been feeling to lazy to complete and publish it. But there is *huge* test tomorrow, and I should be studying, so naturally here comes the urge to blog. However, I'm being strong and resisting temptation, and watching Youtube videos instead. So here's a gem for you.

The Facebook Skit

Appropriately enough, I discovered it while going through somebody's Orkut scrapbook. Hee. :P

'Afterglow'

2007-02-20T15:03:00.000+05:30

Here I am
Lost in the light of the moon
That comes through my window
Bathed in blue
The walls of my memory
Divides the thorns from the roses
It's you and the roses

Touch me and I will follow
In your afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go

I will find my way
When I see your eyes
Now I'm living
In your afterglow

Here I am
Lost in the ashes of time
But who owns tomorrow
In between
The longing to hold you again
I'm caught in your shadow
I'm losing control
My mind drifts away
We only have today

Touch me and I will follow
In your afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go

I will find my way
I will sacrifice
Till that blinding day
When I see your eyes
Now I'm living
In your afterglow

When the veils are gone
As I let you go
As I let you go

Touch me and I will follow
In your afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go

I will find my way
I will sacrifice
Now I'm living
In your afterglow
Bathed in blue
The walls of my memory
Divides the thorns from the roses
It's you who is closest

INXS, Switch, 2004

Song. I like. I love. :)

Dhnyarosh chai

2007-02-19T02:27:00.000+05:30

Dhnyarosh khabo. :)

Heppy Velentine's Dey

2007-02-15T13:29:00.000+05:30

Glorious. :)

I am tired

2007-02-15T13:07:00.000+05:30

Of repeating the same story over and over again to fifty five different people who could have been there to witness it firsthand if they had so chosen. But I keep on doing it, because I believe that everybody deserves to know, regardless of the degree or cause of their interest or investment.
But tonight I refuse to discuss the matter. It is my off-day, and I have other things to do. Pardon me for having a life, and for that life being as important as all the things that busy you all the time.

Sundae!

2007-02-13T13:28:00.000+05:30

Yummmmmmy!

[This is a very belated post. Much frazzledness and angst and vituperation coming up soon.]

Whiskey Toots Foxtrot!

2007-02-12T06:01:00.000+05:30

I LOVE Them Clones!

Am big fan now. :)

TGIF. Right.

2007-02-10T14:29:00.000+05:30

Was pissed off with myself in the morning because of my lately developed chronic unpunctuality. Did not do classes out of sheer laziness. In the afternoon, decided to, after much thought, go watch a movie at Nandan. Decided to opt for an E1 because it's usually faster than the metro, and was then stuck in it for more than forty five minutes. They said at the Nandan counter that the tickets for twenty rupees weren't available, but when we went inside after paying forty for each ticket, we found the that the twenty seats were all unoccupied. And Traffic Signal is the world's WORST film. There's no story, no excuse for a plot, no performance worth watching... NOTHING. We ran out after sitting through nearly fifty minutes of it, and NO regrets whatsoever. Even the 'fish butter fry' at the stall outside was not good. And to top it all, on my way back to JU, fell down on the stairs at the Rabindra Sarobar metro station, and had to walk up three storeys with a sore leg for class.
A day of utmost metaphorical-KLPD.

HappyMushySniffly now, though. Good night, all. :)

Fabulous

2007-02-07T13:29:00.000+05:30

OBD. OMD. All hail biyebaris!

I was offered a full time job with a newspaper today, unfortunately I couldn't accept because it is a full time job. Alas.

But all considered, relieved, drowsy, blissful. Fabulous!

Porcelain

2007-02-06T13:28:00.000+05:30

I'm being refused permission to go climbing yet again.

Does the possibility of cuts and bruises appreciably affect my apparent value in the marriage market, I wonder?

Bitter little post, ain't it? Who would say that I've actually had a pretty good weekend, which—in fact—I've had. Maybe I'll blog about it sometime. Just like all the other things that I want to blog about once I gear up enough enthusiasm to sit down and write. Maybe it's time for a blog hiatus.

I'll see you when I see you.

I'm a little distressed tonight. And a little lonely.

Life. Wednesday. Circa 2007.

2007-02-01T15:34:00.000+05:30

Two tests. Telephone trauma. Gah. BBC Radio. Park Street Cemetery. Hee.

Whiny.

2007-01-29T15:47:00.000+05:30

I am hurt. My fault, possibly. But still, it hurts.

Nameless. Faceless. Piece of Ass.

2007-01-29T13:29:00.000+05:30

I usually do not post about my experiences of sexual harrassment or molestation. The one post that I did on something related was this, and a bit here. But tonight, I think I need to rant.

I don't remember a time that I have stepped out of my house and then come back again without having been subjected to a single suggestive or obscene remark or a lewd gesture or a pointed song or a grope or some such attempt. And it all counts, it all matters, it all adds up as I live my life everyday, live with the fact that I have a female body.

My first recollection of being made to feel uncomfortable by a man is of a man on the bus licking his lips and winking at me. I was in class three, then. Then there was the time when I was in class six, and a man at Howrah station grabbed my breast while passing me by. On another occasion at Howrah station, when my mother saw a man approaching me with his hand outstretched and about to make a grab, she swung a bagful of coconuts at him; he ran, once he'd recovered his balance, and got lost in the crowd. And on another occasion, when a man brushed his hand across my crotch, I hit him across the back with my umbrella, making him sprawl on the footpath; satisfying. But the number of times that I have reacted is not even a fraction of the number of times that I have been abused. And yes, it is abuse. When I say that I have never stepped out of my house without being subjected to some kind of incident or the other, merely because I have a vagina, I mean it seriously, without exaggeration.

Every woman who has travelled via public transportation has had at some point or the other had an erection pressed into her butt, a hand squeeze her breast as it reaches for the door, been stripped down to her skin with eyes. Which might of course beg the question whether every man who uses public transport in Calcutta subjects someone or the other to such treatment, but thankfully that is NOT the case, and nice men do exist.

Yesterday, while I was walking down Jodhpur Park, a man walked past, jabbing his elbow into my breast. Less than a minute after, a tall man looked down at me, wrapped in my huge sweater, and muttered 'chodon'. A few months ago, at the engineering side of campus, a man—presumably a student—followed me for a while and tried breathing down my neck and whispering to me until I turned around and accosted him; he took fright and ran away. The week before last, three boys—teenagers, not even grown men—cornered me in a dimly lit corner of an empty-ish street that leads up to my house and tried asking me what my name was; they went away when I told them to fuck off and kept walking, but I don't know what I would have done if they hadn't done so; I was gripping my knife in my pocket, but I doubt whether I would have been able to use it, or whether it would have been in any way effective against three people bigger and stronger than me; I don't use that stretch anymore. And a couple of years ago, there was the Ambassador that passed me by on the street, and three men stuck their heads out of three windows, and waggled their tongues out at me and made groping gestures in the air.

And tonight, as I was walking home from the bus stop—two blocks before my house—I was turning a corner when two men on a bicycle overtook me, and the one who was riding pillion smacked me on the butt. And there was NOTHING that I could do. I shouted. But it was pretty pointless, as the cycle simply whizzed past me and turned another corner, and disappeared out of sight. They didn't even turn around. I didn't see their faces. They didn't see mine. Isn't it nice when you're just a piece of ass and even your face doesn't need to be looked at? The only thing I know about the men is that the one who did it was wearing an orange t-shirt, and the other one was wearing black. They could be anyone. It was humiliating, and I was so fucking frustratingly helpless. I came home in tears. The first time in many many years. This is not the worst experience of its kind that I've had, but I think I have rarely been so helpless, felt so impotent.

It is NOT about what a woman is wearing. It is NOT about what she's doing. It is NOT about who she is with. It doesn't make a damned bit of difference what she looks like. Piece of ass, tits, a pussy. That's all that matters.

I know all the safety measures. Don't walk alone. Get somebody to drop you home if it's late. Be alert. Be confident. Avoid certain streets. But how many streets must I stop walking? HOW many? And must I?

Nameless faceless men—to whom I am just a nameless faceless body—how I hate you all.