Teenage angst

I feel like a teenager today. Shopping for birthday gifts, angst at my parents, a little crush, staying up late checking my mail. I'm about five years behind my age. I should be driving myself around, living in a rented house, responding furiously to mails on my blackberry/iphone, travelling to london, paris and tokyo for work and complaining about how incessant flight-taking has given me chronic backaches.

 

Alas.

Sleepless

It is so strange. I haven't slept properly in two weeks. Till yest my body was breaking and my eyes were droopy. Day before I fell asleep with the laptop in my hand. Today I've slept all of 3 hours - 5.30 to 8.30. That too after a rather gruelling day at work. In fact, I'm incredibly stressed today as well. Yet, somehow, I feel.....fresh...no other way to describe it. No burning eyes, no desire to drown myself in my blanket. I feel energetic. I feel like going place and doing things.

 

I hope I haven't spoken too soon and I hope this feeling lasts a while.

 

It's probably because i didn't have to go for the training. Just the knowing that the day could've been a lot worse is keeping me happy.

 

There are three kayasthas in my office. I don't think I've ever seen so many unrelated kayasthas in one room before. And the strange thing was one of them actually knew I was a kayastha before I told her! This has never happened to me before.
Plus they knew about Chitragupta and the kalam-davaat pooja! I thought that only happens in our house! Its very strange to meet other kayasthas.

Please send in your suggestions

After vowing to write more often (one post every week, i had naively promised my blog) the momentum just died out. again. i don't know what it is about writing that makes me unstick. it's just a stupid blog which maybe two people in the world read so it can't be the pressure of putting up a good post. And i do have things to write about. Every day in the auto i think of something and forget it by the time i reach home. maybe should i carry a journal and write the old fashioned way. Or, i could get a PDA. hmm, i like plans that end in getting a pda. or a mini lappy like the twin's. why mini? i should save up and get a macbook pro.
Please send in your suggestions on a way to stick to blogging.

Gosh, I need a new obsession. I was watching HIMYM today and Ted is just so passionate about everything! From architecture to marriage to the appropriate usage of 'literally' to his ugly red boots! I've been through phases of savage garden, 104fm radio, fali, roswell, harry potter etc etc but I can't rem what passion feels like anymore. All I feel is fatigue. (Now fatigue is something I can write volumes about)
Please send in your suggestions for things I might want to be passionate about.

My life begins and ends with office. I think of office all day. It's the last thing in my head before I fall asleep and the first thing I think of in the morning. Although i wait desperately for holidays, I spend them incessantly thinking of work and remotely funny things that happened at work. For instance, the other day this guy says at the lunch table that I don't talk at all and forces me to tell a joke. I tell the only (really sad) joke that I know and there is deathly silence at the table. On a table of 16, not a single person's lip even twitches. But mostly I think about inane things that have no bearing and in all probability make no sense to people outside of work. I have no way of verifying this theory as i meet no people outside of work.
Please send in suggestions for fitting more things into your day and telling better stories/jokes.

Review: The Museum of Innocence

Orhan Pamuk is famous. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature.
This is what I had in my head when I started reading Museum of Innocence. The book is the story of a man's obsession with a girl. OP is clearly a good writer and I must say the translation was excellent; at no point did I feel like I was reading a book that wasn't originally written in English. But man, the book drags on!
I think what OP forgets is that I (the reader) am not in love with Fusun. There's 4 pages of "sometimes we would stand by the window, sometimes we would eat brinjals, sometimes i would leave late, sometimes we would go out.." not 1, not 2, not even 3 but 4 whole pages of this! in tiny miniscule print! Reading that bit really solves the mystery of the size of the book.
The story itself has no real mystery and an entirely predictable plot. The first part of the book is...scandalous. The second half is just obsessive. On some level, I could relate to it. I've been lonely and stalkery. I have that magpie-like habit of collecting objects and reliving memories through them. Despite this relatable-ness, at no point in the story do you feel like something important is happening. You're always just hoping that something important will happen and when the action finally arrives, it's over before you know it.
[In one Subhash Ghai moment, OP himself makes a guest appearance in the book. That was funny. ]
The book is well-written and while I wouldn't recommend it, I wouldn't tell you not to read it either. I think OP is a good writer. All he needs is a little perspective. If he would just concentrate on the right parts, and reduce the pages by half, it could make for a really nice story.

What do you do in your head?

Chini used to say she outlines objects in her head (artist)
Mansi used to outline objects and try to do it using a single line, without breaking the line (artistic and competitive tendencies)
I try to imagine what different people would do in my shoes (self-centered psychologist)

What do you do in your head?

Soundtrack: Stars- Personals

I spent a lazy Sunday morning in Saket today, simultaneously eating and reading brunch. Except, I wasn't really reading Brunch. I just said that because it sounded clever. I was actually reading Nisha Susan's article in Tehelka's new special issue on love across borders. All the while I was reading it I kept thinking "How can people reveal such personal issues in a national magazine? Don't they know it that 110,000 (wiki-verified) people are reading about their lives?"
But I guess that's exactly what made it a good story. If you took out the personal bits, there woudn't be a story at all.

That's one of the things that holds me back from writing/speaking. I have few lifestories and opinions to begin with and I'm reluctant to share the ones I have. Even seemingly frivolous things like my choice of music, my friends, my favourite food.. Everyone probably knows I spend atleast a third of my waking hours on the internet but ask my friends what I do online and they'll all be stumped. What do I like to watch on TV? What are the things I value in life? What do I think about most often? What is the one thing I'm working towards? and they wouldn't be able to answer. I'm not sure even I know the answers to those questions.

[There was more to this post but I decided its too personal to be on a blog and took it out.]

Ladies and gentlemen,

Jack Johnson!

What if I never get work? At this rate, its definitely possible. I'll just lounge around for a year, then get married. Or I'll change my belief system. Maybe it'll change itself. Grrr, I'm rambling. Today is not the day to be whining.

Do not, under any circumstances, watch Love Aaj Kal. If you read a good review of the film, you can safely assume that the reviewer was paid to praise it, and handsomely so. If you're bored, go eat out, meet old friends, rediscover the city's rich heritage. Heck, sitting at home and staring at your feet is a better way to pass time.
Awful movie. What were they thinking? What were they trying to show? I am a kid of this generation and I couldn't identify with any of the emotions in the movie! (But then I am a bit of an aunty on the inside).
I went in with super-low expectations. I kept giving it the benefit of doubt thinking that it will get better. And it did for about two minutes post-interval. Then downhill again.
Why does Saif Ali Khan have a double role? Try as he might, he did not fool anyone into thinking he could act (like a sardar). Deepika Padukone's acting seemed okay compared to Saif Ali's but that's only because the bar was set so low in the first place.
First Luck, now this. I don't think I'm going to be watching any movies in the theatre anytime soon.
Anyway, if you do happen to see it (I can't imagine why you would but...), I suggest you watch 'Mean Girls' ASAP afterwards to restore your faith in cinema.

This post has been issued in public interest

Once upon a time there was a little elephant named Ole. One day Ole got in a car accident and severed his left leg. When his mother saw him she screamed and dragged him to the doctor. Ole carried the detached limb with him. His mother asked the surgeon, "Doctor, will you be able to put his leg back?". The doctor said, "Don't worry, ma'am. Elephants always re-member."

Social networking has taken on a whole new meaning with the advent of the internet. From Hi5 to Orkut to Facebook to the latest fad, Twitter. I don't generally make predictions but I'm convinced that Twitter is the next big thing, as well it should be.
Rahul Gandhi is on Twitter! This really changes the dynamics of the whole politician-public relationship. Now Rahul Gandhi is not just a figure you see on TV or in the papers. He is a real, tangible being who you can have an actual conversation with. You can choose to follow him, (or not follow him) and post direct replies to the things he says! How cool is that? And not just him. I spoke to Darren Hayes. DARREN HAYES! Any invention that lets me talk to Darren Hayes is genius in my books.

I got my voter's id card today. I'm going to be a responsible citizen this May.

www.jaagore.com is simply awesome. I love the idea of youth empowerment. And I love how well it goes with the simple idea of a cup of tea. 


In other news, my paper today was horrid. Actually, horrid doesn't even begin to describe it. Take ghastly, atrocious, appalling, awful, nasty, and dreadful and add a fistful of shameful,  substandard and disgusting, and you might come close to what my paper was. I'm redefining horrid.

The Musical Twin

Over the years I've had many twins.

Okay, fine, so there was just one. But now, there's another. [Sorry winnie. But don't worry, I still love you.] This new twin pierces the one part of my life that the old, *whacks self* I mean other one didn't cover.

 

Music.

 

A long, long time ago (January), this girl, K, came to talk to me at a party. She told me that she'd seen some music on my Facebook profile and that she listened to pretty much the same stuff. We talked about exchanging music but it didn't happen. We're not really friends, and we're in different specializations so we don't see much of each other. Then a few months later I was listening to some music in college and I extended a earphone. She liked the song (Kings of Convenience) so I promised to give her some on a pen drive. This time I really did. She did the same.

Actually she did more. She went above and beyond. She gave me two whole albums of...wait for it…The Shins! Not to mention a bunch of other music which I haven't yet heard.

I can't even begin to explain what that means to me. It's like my birthday has come early this year (or got late last year, whichever way you choose to look at it). To add to the birthday feeling, she gave me music in the cutest cd cover. It's bright, shiny, jazzy red with hearts on it, like wrapping paper. Plus, M gave the world's coolest water bottle, wrapped and everything (it was a return gift for her little sister's birthday party). I wish my birthday was half as fun as yesterday!

Oh, and in the cute red cd case lay a cute movie called Paris je t'aime. It's the best I've seen in a long time.

 

As Athlete would say/sing, yesterday threw everything at me. Or as Marshall would say, it was steak sauce. Or as Barney might say, yesterday was totally awesome.

Okay, I'm done.

Gold in the air of summer

The heat was really getting to me. Even the riksha ride was unbearable. The aftermath of the riksha ride was no less unpleasant what with the man sticking his hands inside his pants to give me change. Dirty, sweaty pants, at that.

I was glad when I finally reached the stairs of the metro station. My head was beginning to hurt from being in the sun so long. The air conditioning beckoned and I made my way to it in a daze. I kept thinking of how I would make it home. How would I possibly survive the walk from the metro station to the bus stop?

I glided through the checkpoint to the entrance. I had kept my smart card out to speed my way to the infinitely cooler platform. It was all I could think of.

But my card wouldn't work.

I stepped back and tried again. It still wouldn't work. I shifted it, turned it around, stepped back again. No luck. I looked around for help but no one was there. I looked for the guard but he was far away. I sighed and started to make my way towards him when I perchance looked at my card.

 

It was my driver's license.

There was no electricity the whole day today! From 11.30 a.m. to 7 p.m. Some stupid meter change.

Since I couldn't study without light I decided to read Douglas Adams instead.

Sur minus

The Delhi government claimed that there would be a surplus of power by the end of the decade.
It's the end of the decade.
Where is this surplus power?
We've been having power cuts every single day. Three times a day. Peak of summer. Middle of exams.


What is wrong with these people!?

How fitting

Just as I started preaching anti-religionism and thinking that it's my calling, my mom comes and hands me a Hanuman Chalisa, which btw, I used to read religiously (pun unintended) when I was younger and had almost learnt it by heart! But even that was not because I was religious; my mom told me that it improves your memory and attention span.

Maybe this is a sign. God is telling me to believe.

I think I'll read it again.

UPDATE: I read it. I think I need someone to explain it to me.

Given that my exams are going on, my brain is on full throttle. And for once it's actually thinking about studies. About education to be specific.
Our text books are so incredibly dull! You would think that psychologists would know how to hold someone's attention!
Bored with the books I tried to pass my time online. I read some quotes by Douglas Adams and thought for the gazillionth time "that is one brilliant man". Not only is he brilliant in terms of coming up with new ideas but he can also make the most mundane seem interesting.
And then, suddenly, there was thunder and lightening and a bulb went off in my head. What if we combined the two? The textbook authors have the knowledge, but the writers have the skill! They should be the ones doing the writing, not these nerds! Douglas Adams can make even computer programming sound like a good way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
I wish he'd taken an interest in psychology the way he did with science. But he probably realised it was a rubbish subject. What have psychologists achieved anyway? They conduct fake research, then they make people ape it, stir things up, make some theories...doesn't matter if they hold true or not, and then what? Go back and test the old theory again. It's just a way convincing yourself that you're doing something worthwhile when you're actually doing squat.
Bleh. This was not meant to be a rant.
Don't mind me.
I'm just pissed I have five vivas.
But I still like the text book idea. The experts should probably write a rough draft of the book and then give it to the writers. Then the writer will say "Oh so this is what you wanted to say?" and then put in a joke or two and twist things around. Pictures are always helpful.
Maybe even advertising people should get in on this. After all, they know how to make things look appealing. I mean, have you seen Baron? It's such a brilliant book but what's with that orange cover? and Robbins doesn't even bother using colour.
So, to summarize, writers and ad agents should expand their horizons and get into the business of education. It's a win-win situation really. They get more jobs, we get more education, and eventually, even we get more jobs.
Thank you.
*takes a bow*
*standing ovation follows*

This is quite crappily written but it's the idea that counts right? And the idea sounded pretty good in my head. Maybe I'll fix it after the exams ( I probably won't)

She:
She sat there listening to Elton John wondering when she would have someone write her ‘her song’. To write her anything, in fact; even an email would do. Someone to call her in the middle of the night, someone she could call to gush about the rain.
But even in her loneliest moments she knew she didn’t want just anyone. It had to be him or nobody.
If only she could meet him.
She checked his profile online, she read his blog, she googled his name, she walked past his house. She knew it wasn’t normal, but, try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from doing it.
She wondered what it'd be like to talk to him. She spent all day trying to find a way to see him. She could have met him today if he had come to her friends’ house. She could have met him if she’d taken an earlier train. She could have met him if he had just come forth and said hello.
But he didn’t and she spent her time looking for photos of him on the internet.

He:
He had a lot on his plate. He had plans, hopes, dreams, ambitions. He had to study, to travel, to meet new people and see new places. He needed to make something of himself. He had a gift and he needed to use it. He didn’t have time for a girlfriend. Still he found himself dreaming of her. He knew he was a traveler at heart, but for her, he would change. He could fill his days just writing to her, about her, for her.
If only he could meet her.
But he didn’t.