this is a very trippy image. i like it, i like it very much. i feel this way half the time. kinda cool when you think about it.

P.S: I need French songs to listen to while studying (I don't know French). Recommendations?

We're both from The Great White North- only I listen to Maeri

If I were to write a story right now, it would go something like this:
Once, there lived a girl whose head exploded. Before that she ate sausages. Then her head exploded. The End.
(The "The End" would have to be in twirly letters like they always are at the end of fairytale books and Disney Stories). So I won't. I want to write, but I can't. I would like to dress up for Halloween, I don't know yet if that's going to be happening. I want to get over this state of inertia and I want my Facebook password back. :( I think I'm undergoing Facebook withdrawal symptoms. Loser, I. Unhappy loser. No, not really, I suppose. Just, inert, and in my case there's nothing noble about it (Inert, noble, geddit, geddit? No? Come onnnn! It's a Chemistry joke! *sigh* never mind). I wish things would come clear, as I wish the papers would end or that something would HAPPEN to shake me out of this unproductive glazed sort of monotony. Urgh! Dispassionate this, and detached. Food must stop. Like yesterday. *cue to sigh again*
Sometimes I wish I were a nun. Or 25 and already done with this crap. Just someone, somewhere, FAR away, calm, serene and happy. CONTENT. That would be nice. I watched 'Nanook of The North' directed by Robert Flaherty with Ma on Saturday after much cajoling (I'm not a huge fan of silent films- the 2 that I have watched- 'Birth of a Nation' and 'Intolerance' actually lulled me to sleep). I had a midterm on it anyway so we watched it, Ma curious and me, prepared to be bored. On the contrary it was a BEAUTIFUL movie. Some Really lovely scenes and his smile! Good God, I don't think I've ever seen a smile of such innocence, such undiluted pure JOY. I literally smiled back every time he did. It was impossible not to. Ma said it was because of his being a simple person. Right about now that sounds very Very good to me. Being in The Great White North in Hudson Bay, hunting seals, overpowering huskies and making sure you and your family didn't starve pretty much Does cut down things to basics. No time to moon, or worry or obsess when you don't know if you're going to have enough food to get you through the week. Nanook was an excellent hunter and a loving parent it seemed- there was this scene in the movie where he was teaching his young son how to use a bow and arrow, won't try to put it into words. It was just one of those scenes from the movie that stuck with me. His wife, Nyla with the naked baby tucked into her fur hood. All of the family, shedding the hides and skins and curling up beneath a great blanket-type thing, Nyla bare chested, her long big breasts, hanging loose. Completely unselfconscious. The little boy with his tiny husky puppy, cradling him against his chest. The fight for dominance between the leader husky and an aggressive mutineer. The frustrated manic snapping of the wolf who longed to sink his teeth into the massive rolls of seal blubber but had to watch chained as Nanook and his family scarfed it down, like animals, after a week of starvation licking clean the flippers and blood. Nanook's happy face peering out of the igloo door and his SMILE. Watch the movie.

trying to pull the struggling seal ashore

fascinated by the record player; he bites it a few times in his curiosity

nanook puts his child's hands to his cheeks to warm them

nyla and Her husky

nanook. almost smiling. i wish i had a proper picture.

I almost wish I was Nanook but not really. He died of starvation. So. And, no, I haven't given away any spoilers- it isn't that kind of a film. So the weekend ends. Tomorrow I get my Organic Chem paper back. Jesus.

Someone slap me. Quick!

I want to fall in love. Not the unrequited variety.
Maybe I'm in 'nyaka'-girl mode right now, or maybe it's just that ache in that place you feel someone needs to fill up- just so that you can Breathe. Like strong, deep, Safe breaths. (Oh, and for the people sniggering at previous line, NO, I'm NOT talking about literal places to be filled up. T.R this means You. Heh.)
But honestly, at the risk of sounding terribly naive and preteen-girl-with-alternate-pink-and-black-nailpolish- ish, I'm going to try and explain what I mean. Maybe if I put it down on paper, so to speak, I'll realize I'm being ridiculous. Hopefully.
I've been in love before. But back then it was mostly because I was stupid. My head was in the clouds and well, my heart was in somebody else's hands as Dawson's Creek puts it. Yeah, I loved Dawson's Creek- that should probably be enough of an indicator. Now I'm rambling like always, but I'll go on cuz it's been a while since I've written anything substantial and cuz I really really need to express this to myself.

Anyway so obviously, the whole high-school love story didn't work out for various reasons (Rachel and Ross 'on a break', anyone?). Which was..actually a good thing, though it didn't seem so at the time (and the two years after that in the intervals when I wasn't busy being mad and psychotically whiny). I dated other guys, most of whom have been awesome people, none of whom have worked out- obviously since I'm writing this. Had some really fun and some really shitty times along the way. I've broken hearts and gotten my own heart broken into teeny tiny scrape-it-off the-ground-and-try-to-sellotape-it-back-together-pieces. I've been through all of that. I've gone from being a floating hopeless romantic to being a disillusioned bitter cynic and finally now, to being a cynic who can't stop longing for something she fears doesn't exist.
It's irrational, I know. It's a little spineless, I know. You're supposed to feel complete within yourself. You're supposed to be satisfied with the unconditional love of your family and the best friends you were unbelievably lucky enough to find. You're Supposed to be cool with being the strong independent quirky chick who was ambitious enough to put her career before everything that was safe, and warm and lovely. I mean, it was Your decision, don't you remember? Thing is, I'm not. I'm not cool with it. There's probably something very fundamentally wrong with that- for crissake, even the Pussycat Dolls have a song titled "I don't need a man (to make me happy. ha-aoo-ha-aoo-aah!)". BUT there it is.
I miss the feeling of wild abandon. I miss the feeling of being so abso-fricken-lutely certain that at the end of the crappiest day-when your world is going to pieces, your hairdresser turned out have a Rihanna obsession, you missed your Physics exam and your parents think you've turned into an anarchist- a single phone call will fix it all. Just hearing that voice reassuring you, or falling into that embrace makes you feel like it's going to be okay. Illogical, yes. True, also yes.
I miss having someone to associate all them songs with. Why don't they warn you, that those feelings that rushed to you when you first heard them and fell in love, are always going to stay, even when there isn't a face to fill your dreams with? I miss the Safety that having a pair of arms around you affords. I miss having someone to fill in the gaps between my fingers. I miss dwindling away the hours in quiet happiness. I miss feeling like I'm That incredibly important. I miss Having someone to feel that way about. I miss caring about someone with that kind of intensity.
I'm older now and probably not very wise but I know that love can't be built on just "I love you"s without any foundation or similarities as a base. I know that it isn't all about the butterflies in your stomach but I also know that the butterflies are important. I know that you can't mould a friend into a lover anymore than you can command a caterpillar to take flight. I know it isn't all sweetness and light and I know about the boredom and monotony that sets in with any long-term relationship. I know that happy marriages are few and far in between. I wonder if growing old together- and not because you have a family, or because it's safe or because you're used to it- but just because you Want to is even possible. Even so. Despite the commitment phobia, and despite the low boredom threshold, I still intrinsically want someone. Is this social conditioning or is it an intrinsic human need? Is it just my own inadequacies? I don't know.
I'm a bundle of contradictions and I'm probably a prime example of a corny cliche that has existed since time immemorial. Blame it all on these songs. I've been listening to them quite a bit.
1)Kaate nahi raat- Ustaad Sultan Ali Khan http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAWvlqsUzNM&feature=related
2)Wicked game- Chris Isaak http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-oaHHrNQVrg
3)She's got you high-  Mumm-rah http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKypqSL49Pg&ob=av3n

anuj & i - summer 2010

and as the night moves on

colors blur

and our brains come oozing out

of nooks 

and crannies-

with iridescent hues

skeletons of souls poking out

glowy.

Lessons for the Day

#1 Check how hot the water is BEFORE turning on the water heater and turning the tap.

#2 NEVER give your sleazy relatives you have a gut allergic repulsion to, your best friend's number.

#3 Don't leave your French book in a different continent. You might just land up with a French foreign exchange student for a house-mate who barely speaks or understands English.

#4 Don't sign a 1 year lease for the smallest room in the house without registering actually How small they mean when they say small. It May just turn out to be pantry sized.

#5 A full glass of Red Wine is a bad idea when you're suffering from Jetlag and moving in the next day- with your mum for company.

#6 Going Bohemian appearance-wise can justify almost any normal fashion must-not.

#7 Self- restraint, especially when it comes to a smart mouth is a good policy and may just reward you with carrot cake with cheesecake topping.

#8 Sometimes really really obese women are really Really REALLY good cooks.

#9 Jetlag sucks and coffee- immunity doesn't help.

#10 Abba and John Dever induce nostalgia. Even if you aren't a major fan.

Ok WHAAAT?

i don't know what to write. i will probably delete this post later, but for now im trashing my own blog. more clutter. there is SOO much clutter everywhere. cleaning up room is pointless cuz brother transforms it into a seedy weedy jungle within a day. JONGLI bachha i tell you! but this is the last month in which im sharing a room, so itisokay. for now. clutter in life also. lesson # 1: learn to let go. will do, will do, doing. everything is in future tense by about EXACTLY 5 minutes. lethAAARGY. like some monster slowly creeping up and then LOOK BEHIND YOU! but it's already eaten you up and you're in its digestive sys-TUM. look, look, salivary amylase aka SPIT!! look, look trypsin, looklook, emulsification. im a biochem student, yuss i am.
epiphanies happen. good family weekend happens. this includes piu. mother's birthday happens. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! i put this in caps because the more significant event on 15th in household was mamma's birthday. more important in the grand scheme of things, heehee, snicker. cousin sister visits after a year, all of four years old, twirling and singing, making me teach her ballet. i decide to call her aisha and consequently have to spend the ext two hours dancing with her and singing "Suno Aisha" from that movie. Whatta bakwaas movie that. Side effect # 1. want to PARTAY! Side effect # 2. Want to get hot body and wear high heels and Chanel. Side Effect # 3. Want cute guy with a dimple. This means YOU. Abhay Deol, DUH.
timeisrunningout. and before you know it i'll be at the end of this sentence. and before you know it i'll be at the end of summer. and before you know it, i'll be far far away. but before that come mundane important things like finances and cooking and packing. and goodbyes.
i've become FAAAT. like its not even funny, i fit into mamma's clothes. and i struggle to fit into jeans. MUM calls me football now, and when That happens you know you're ear-deep in shit. but still i eat- biriyani, yummy egg curry from alladin. orgasmic kulfi faluda from ganguram. luchi cholar daal breakfast. kochuri and cholaar dal at dakhineswar. creamy chingri maacher malai curry and dhone pata dawa chicken and mutton kheema  kabab and orange stick ice cream and butterscotch ice cream and pepsi and chicken pakoda and musurir daal with halka lebu and tomato'r chutney at tuku aunty, deep-dia's. black forest cake, chocolate mud cake, R-maach, eilish maach and chicken curry.payesh and mutton patties. then momo's with piping hot light soup, chilli sauce and stir fried pasta with shrimp. bacardi. red wine. at shoma pishi's. all this over the weekend. friday, saturday, sunday. BYAAS. i am turning into Putu.
everything is going Nanana when it should really be Hahaha. i think i'm getting contacts today. i think i'm probably writing like someone else, but randomness is comforting the way an old fuzzy blanket is comforting, the way an old good-friend-ex is comforting, the way a soft fluffy pillow is. i have two new books to read, that i've wanted to- On Beauty by Zadie Smith, and Vine of Desire by Chitra Bannerjee Divakaruni. I reread Dorian Gray, did not help the dissatisfaction. I have friends waiting for me at JU but i don't even know why i go there. something is missing, but it's going away, it's okay. i shall drag butt off to take long shower. then Ponds powder and the Freshness. i love you Blog. I'm sorry I don't have much to say.

So far, so good?

Lost phone. Again. 2nd phone in 2 months and this was all antique-y. I'm starting to sound like one of them spoilt rich kids, I don't like it.
Met people who would intimidate me for no good reason. Funny how people who you thought seemed 'ohsocool' cuz of the zillion pictures back then puzzle you now as to where their appeal lies.
Family friends. Pictures. Prank Calls. Foooooood.
One nice evening in Jude. No 29, thank God. Music, general retardedness (have you ever noticed how weird ears are? They kinda look like misplaced trumpets), joint passed around (watched didn't take. Yet.), Sujith Da's cha. Roti, chilli chicken.
Called someone Turnip-head. Because you know the top of their head is flat and they just have That vibe.
Listened to friggin SEXAY song that I think you should go listen to Right now. Undisclosed desires by Muse. The beat is Something. Like a loop the loop playing over and over in my head, giving rhythm to my hips, making me bop my head in the street, much to the amusement of the chyangras on the road. Oh, and while you're at it. check out the lyrics. Unexpectedly sweet for such a slick-ish song.
Had Kulfi-Faluda for the nth time with Boy who looks like evil, but didn't display too many such tendencies this time. Perhaps it had something to do with the presence of Loopy Upi.
Resolved to stop swearing worse than a chotolok man. Haven't succeeded with that so far.
Guillotined the sweetest cutest little Swiss Albino rat at the workplace. Played with it, watched it take a crap, made it unconscious with Halothane so that, you know, it dies in a humane way and then picked up its tiny little furry body with blue surgical gloves. Placed it neatly on the stealy bladeof the mini guillotine and brought down the blade with precision. Once. Oops, little skin there, twice. Picked up headless body, discarded in bright yellow plastic bag. Presented head to Sms Poetry Da so that he could remove and slice up its brain.
All in the name of Science, y'know. Was slightly shocked at how less the first time I killed an actual living mammalian creature disturbed me. Cockroaches don't count right, they're too tiny and have too much antennae to inspire affection or feeling. White adorable rat? Headless rat once you're done with it? Didn't really affect me, went home, told Ma and watched her face go white as she went "You could kill actual people! How could you?". I suspect I'm a tad inhumane. Heartless, like Kanye said. Dayum.
Perhaps in payback, the Spice used me as her guinea pig as she experimented with make-up on my face. Smoky eyes, a touch of lipstick.Foundation, mascara, lipliner, eyeliner, kohl, compact, blusher, killer boots. Didn't look like myself when she was done, but I liked it, hell yeah. Heartbreak when we went out to Vivekananda Park for a smoke and the make-up melted away.
Wife got a tattoo. So did Wife's boyfriend, the Boudi. I want one too, but I don't want it on a whim and I'm not sure having a tattoo inspires much faith in your professionalism when you're aiming to be a scientist. I WANT a tattoo or a third piercing, but I don't know what to get or where to get it.
Resolved to lose weight, eat healthy, give up on a Kulfi-Faluda a day. Exercise. Brother decided to help me do it right, and we spent an hour locked in our room with him insisting that sit-ups were Totally useless and implementing military training, footballer workouts on me till I screamed with agony and Baba came running in demanding to know why he was murdering me.
Last 3 days at work. I'm going to miss everyone, but SO looking forward to having some time off. Learning how to cook, spending time with the gramps, getting things in order. Ignoring Canada which is set to become a reality pretty soon. Don't. Want. To. Think. About. It.
Need to get rid of Peter Pan Syndrome and grow up at some point. Need to be nicer to people.
Succeeded sort of in stopping obsessing about weird pseudo carpe diem thing which just Does Not get any better. Sequels are such a bad idea. Soil even memories of perfection. Come August, come resolution, for now things are standing still.
Afterthought- Pseudo singlehood ain't half bad, preparation, goodonly.
Watched Inception. With Ma. Silver class, good GOD, those chairs. Extravagance. Still like Dark Knight better.
Played with Elsa. And Lucky. And Rover. And Chuti. If only I could be surrounded by doggies and babies I'd be happy. For a while, probably.
Idle fantasies, self destructiveness. What? Why? Cynical hopeless romantic. Eyuckhh. Still, still, STILL WRITER'S BLOCK!