Sunday, November 16, 2008

Damn. School.

Dear Me,

I know you can't take in the things that are happening. I know you feel like things are going too fast, skimming swiftly over you, like you're an insignificant stone on the road that can't stop anyone's progress. I know you hate this happening, but I also know that inside, whether you admit it or not, you know this had to come and the timing is the best it could have been. From a soft laze to a crescendo, and then a fade out.. The end is nigh.

You probably rue not making better use of the year. You probably rue not attending English classes since July. But come on kid, would you have been able to shriek,"Come you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here!" on stage, in front of 350 people, otherwise? Would you have been able to see Zeus, Athena and Aphrodite dance to Pappu Can't Dance and teaching fractions while organising the Maths play otherwise? And look. Ten days of pizza as refreshments win over five months of English anyway.
[A little denial never hurt no one.]

As for people, they'll be there. And if they aren't, you be there for them. In the end, it amounts to the same thing. She said you fear failure, didn't she? That it pulls you back when you think you're not going to be good at something? She knows you well. But it isn't failure.
Its change.

What's happened? You thrived on change. Challenges, opportunities. You still do. Its just the void you need to overcome, and then we'll be back. As one.

Good luck.


[Aanchal? I just did your tag. =)]

Monday, November 10, 2008


[I don't really know what I'd call this. It isn't poetry, its still not prose.
Thought stream, prolly. =/]

I walk through grey meanders,
Stepping carefully to avoid
the dark criss crosses:
Wars of leaves and wires.

Then on to lanes
Of sound and play
They don't run about like we did, though.
PSP huddles. I trudge on
through roads and lost times
Quagmires, shaken off.

A look up, and the sapphire holds me
In a careless twine around its littlest giant finger
I care not for the chain
In its grasp, I am free

A blare and a hasty look down
A mumbled apology to the driver
An uncertain shake
And then,
The mindless laughter

Boxed houses lined up
Off key Idol singing runs out through one
And a yell for someone to shut the back door
Before another someone runs away
And the smell of hot packet soup
Simmering lightly;
Warm yellow lights.
Like any of the other
Lined up beside
And yet..

Open your heart..

I'm home.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Kem cho, majama?

Check 1..
Check 2..
Check 3..
Working. Whew.

So. Where have I been?

The parents have decided its high time to get their parental priorities right, and set curfews, computer usage limits, omg-you-sleep-at-one-or-do-you-even-sleep lectures. The coup de resistance goes way above these though. Its the 12th, beta. You need to study. Bas, nothing doing. Come November, and the Net's going, and we'll keep your phone with us too. Come on, its a measly five months, and its for your good obviously. Ab nahi padhoge toh kab, haan?

I was counting on my sister to throw a few tantrums here and there, because if the net goes, it goes for everyone, and she does like swiping my cell, then locking herself up in the bathroom and going through my inbox. Well, protest she did. Net stays. For her.

However, thanks to whatever little convincing powers I have [I'm trying to be modest, see?], there has been leetle leeway for me too. Been allowed Net and cell phone usage on Sundays, which means, for the most part, you can expect posts every Sunday. Think I might end up being more regular while grounded in a twisted, paradoxical way. O_o
[Yay! I know a word with x other than Xmas!]

Anyhow, my momma has been trying her hardest to make me a demure, soft spoken SSBN.* Which is why she's vigorously been rigorously training me in cooking basics. Her reasoning behind it is that I should at least know how to make basic survival food. My reasoning says as long as I know how to operate a telephone and have the number of the nearest Subway/Domino's, I'll survive. Luxuriously. But then, steely motherly ha-ha-now-get-to-work looks have a tendency to whip you into action. And so we begin.

Day 1
Aloo Capsicum

Honestly, how is something I dislike enough to not eat it going to help me survive? I mean, if I'm not eating it..
Enter afore mentioned steely look.
Ah, yes.

Take a kadhai ["Um, which one is the kadhai?"] Two teaspoons of ghee. Add sliced onions when it gets hot. Saute until they're pink. ["But they're just getting yellow."] Add chopped capsicum and ugh-ish looking tomatoes. Salt and red chilli powder. Diced boiled potatoes. Turmeric. Cover it with a lid, wait for two songs to finish on your iPod, and voila! You're done. Garnish with a tomato flower [6 petals, NOT 8], green chillies, and finely sliced adrak, and you're positively cordon bleu.

Ah yes. I, kitchen failure non-parallel, made that.

*takes a bow*

Think twas edible. Mum's still fine. Me? I ordered in pizza for dinner.

*shaant, sushil bharatiya naari


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