I think I'm falling for you

Check out last Saturday's issue of Mint(HT supplement).
Life-changing.



At least for the next four hours, after which, I start whining about academics, roomies and fatty acids.

***

Cookie - "She called you a donkey."
Zookie - "Wow. How accurate."
Cookie - "I love that word."
Zookie - "She or called or donkey or..?"
Cookie - "Teehee. You. You are my favourite word."
Zookie - "You mean 'you' is your favourite word."
Cookie - "No. I mean you are my favourite word."

***

Me and C went to Select Citywalk after the exam today. She had to get a birthday gift for somebody she is 'just friends' with. Anyway, so we ended up walking for four hours and could decide upon nothing. Blahness. Total blahness. Plus we weren't focussing on the task at hand. We spent quite a bit of time at 'Mothercare' going all 'EEEEEEEEE' at all the aww-somely cute teeny tiny thingumjigs over there. And also the Kids Section at Pantaloons. And Shopper's stop. Some days I feel so domesticated. And all housewife-y. Like when I Diwali clean-ed my room. Or when I organise and reorganise my cupboard(I could never understand why my Mom loved doing that). And when I yell at my roomies if they don't have meals at the proper time, or don't take their meds. Okay yes, I know I do those things too, but then I have somebody to yell at me too. Oh and its nice to have people yell at you. But then if its nice people we are talking about, you don't care if its yelling or shrieking or plain sweet-nothing-whispering as long as they're talking to you. :) Sheesh. I make it sound like such a favor. Or maybe it is. And and, don't you love 'tu jaane na' from the ajab movie? And and, aren't momos the best thing about Delhi?

No, they are not. The best thing about Delhi is its crowd. **[Excluding certain IIT Profs here]
Nice warm sweet. And also very very dressed up all the time. Random pretty woman in Select Citywalk showed us the way to the Metropolitan Mall. Like got up, and walked us half the way. Shweet no? And it could also be the fog. Or the beeyootiful IIT campus, and the MS, and the sight of the MS through that fog in the mornings. I like the fog. It gives you clarity of thought. [ironic, I know]. Teaches you to overlook certain blemishes, and that everything, in persepective, is pretty. Though I don't really get the point of all girls having rebonded (straightened) hair in here, I mean, whats the point? You end up looking the same. Like the next girl in tow. Okay but that may be me obsessing because I have hair which doesn't fall in the domain of either straight or curly. Its just intermediate. And I hate intermediate. It, in some weird way, stands for mediocrity for me. And while on the topic of best things about Delhi, let me not forget my Knights And Dames In Smiling Armour. So, three point two five cheers to Pouty Poo, Novo, and the Depletor of my Cellphone balance, TheDarkLord. Maybe my CS roomie too, agreed she has more wildlife in her head than Kaziranga, literally and metaphorically, but in all her buffoonery and rigid idiosyncracies, I think I have found a golden heart too, and she thinks I give the warmest hugs ever. So double brownie points.

Its been a measly peasly four months and I already have a memory bank, which I look into on and off, to gorge off on some sweet tidbit whenever the sugar levels are low. Maybe this is Delhi's gift to me. The memories. The random walks in and around the campus. Cafe Qahwa, Subway, Barista, Rainbows, Scissors, Archies. And when I go past them again, they bring a smile to my face. The tree I had sat down under listening to your stories. Random hugging on account of obtaining tickets to 'Love Aajkal'. Outside Priya. With people staring. One Tight Slap followed by 'It hurts' under 'Hate the Sin, Not the Sinner'. Passing out in the Chemistry Lab. And then being fussed over. The awkward lunches at SipNBite. The 'fanta' treat. The eerie calmness of the road to Green Park. The watchman you had asked directions from, to IIT. The shop in Jia Sarai we had walked a mile for, for a Sprite. Which you jhutha-ed anyway. And the fact that I am okay with jhutha now. Mind you, just yours and C's. The Ber Sarai book trip. Running across floors in the MS till 3 in the morning. Embarrassed. Trying to hide. 'Shutaap' on the pseudo-terrace in Citywalk. Walking into Levi's and going 'Anything under 300 after discount?'. The Password sharing ceremony at the Roundabout. Holding hands to sleep. Sharing blankets. Cuddling. Crying on the stairs of Bharti building. Crying five minutes to my eighteenth birthday. Getting lost on the highway. Watching you sleep in CYL. Bawling into your arms the night before Minor 1. Getting up, close and personal with Nitin Jain. *Okay, no up, no personal, but just a metre away. Ooh.* Going all 'Oh I am so going to miss you' and then not talking for days. Singing (if it can be called so) 'White Flag' at the top of our voices 3 hours before the MEL110 major. The Momos at SDA. The Kathi Rolls in that very shady street. Candles at India Gate. India-ness at India Gate.
So, this is to Delhi *with its 'dil' and all, i don't know about its 'dil', but it sure has mine* , I think I'm falling for you. :)

The Hedonistaah is disappointed in the wizard of Uz. I thought we could do better than that. I thought you knew me better than that. 'So much for my happy ending' and all..

And, chinkypoo, you know why I like you so much with your twisted psyche? Because it gels so well with mine. Our psyches twist together, in tandem, like the two strands of the double helical DNA. :)

Continuous and Comprehensive Evaluation

:D

To the end of the world and back

Sometimes more than anybody and anything else in the world, I hate myself. And its not about me obsessing over trivial things even when I am on my oh-God-am-stuck-with-trivial-mortals-who-obsess-about-broken-nails-and-broken-relationships trip. No, I am not talking about me the hypocrite. Or me, the biased bitch. *Yes, I am very very biased, and prejudiced, and judgemental. The very things that endear X to me are those I find repulsive in Y.*

So yesterday I was in a bad bad mood. And a 'how are you' sms from the DarkLord sent me to tears. Basically one of those phases when even a traffic jam can make you cry. And all I needed was a hug. And all I had in my room was my messy wali roomie. Only refuge, and I was very desperate. And as the roomie, who, by the way, I had called a bullshit-er 10 minutes ago, kindly wiped of the saline off my cheeks, all I could think of was if she had washed her hands after she'd used the loo the last time. And when I saw ink stains on her hands later, I really had bile up my throat.
I am such an ungrateful wretch. And mental filth is harder to get rid of than physical dirt.

***

Elaborating on why 'how are you'-ness psyches me a lot - sometimes when you've got nothing going right, and people ask how you are, and you mentally start framing an answer to that question, do you realise how sad and pathetic your existence is. Everything in a properly worded/sentence form always has a stronger impact. At least for 'words are all I have' people like me, who unconsciously compose a narrative of every moment they spend awake, to exhaust on somebody who's probably not even interested in listening. I sound like dripping depression all the time these days. I am not like that, really. When I am not on my self-hating guilt trips, I am normally euphoric, delirious and delusional. Ask people who talk to me at 2 in the night. People who have all the time in the world to change their gmail theme, but not a moment to send in a one statement reply. :|

***

Do you remember kids going "You're mental" when they meant "You're mad"? And even though the former isn't grammatically correct, don't you find it infinitely cuter?
Doesn't it feel like somebody stopped short of saying 'You're mentally retarded', which though, would be a medical condition, which shouldn't be joked around with, but then so is madness. Somehow mentally retarded sounds all technical and hence, much more serious. That's the advantage with big words. Or maybe disadvantage. You can call somebody mad, and there'll be no issues, but call someone a retard, and people could take offense. Plus it sounds nasty too. Its weird how the same meaning words have different connotations. 'Pagal' is something now used affectionately. And insane sounds so cool. Egad. Excuse, its just me, the random bullshit-er.

***

"Why don't you ever look at me when I am talking to you?"
"So you caught me."
"Yes, but why? I am not that ugly, you know, nobody's got their cardiac arrested by merely looking at me, yet."
"Geez. Its because I am afraid.."
"Now I'm scary as well? So is it like scarily ugly or uglily scary?"
"I am scared I won't be able to match up to the trust I see, or rather try to avoid, in your eyes."
"If only you would look into my eyes for long enough, you would realise.."
"Realise what?"
"That they are dark brown."

Update

1. So this OhmiGod-she's-so-cool senior dropped by, and I was all 'EEE'-ness but then the meeting wasn't exactly in the rosy surroundings I had intended it to be. My room was like the epitome of filth+mess with all kinds of ugly things ranging from my retainers to flowery undies(guess who!), strewn around in a not so tasteful manner. The only two embarrassing things my room was rid of were my two roomies, which are like the most embarrassing, so thankyousomuchGod for that. And super-senior-woman, if you're reading this, please don't let yesterday's experience put you off visiting my room in the future, I promise I'll be neater, and that I'll throw all my roomies' stuff into the bin, next time I find it lying around without a proper sense of direction in their worthless unemaciated existence. Sigh. If only I could do the same with the two other occupants of this room who fall into the same category.
*My roommates aren't that bad, they're pretty cute, in a way, take this as fiction, alrite!*
2. I trusted you to not read my blog after I asked you not to. You broke it. You can expect to never be considered a friend again. I am sorry I don't forget easy.
3. And if 'she' was getting distressed about the number of 'I love you's in the comments section of my previous post, I can't imagine her horror if she reads the messages in my inbox. Far more lovey dovey, far more scandalous. And yes, all girl friends. :) And no, it doesn't look gay to me. Its very very cute. So again, DQ and Lasha, and the rest(Uz,Am,Ra,Suey,Novocaine,DarkLord), sending you a large pitcher of hedonistaah-love, with a lifetime supply. Which reminds me, Uz, stop being so pissed with me and come back. Lets have a running in slow motion through the yellow mustard fields, hugging and reuniting scene of our own. <3
4. And an unexpected mail. Which made me go all 'Aww'. EEE. I really don't deserve sweetness like you in my life.
5. Most importantly, reconnected with somebody who was very very special to me at one point of time. Things had to sour and we had to move away without a proper bye. Thank you for coming back. Thank you so much. You have no idea how delighted I was, when I saw you obsessing over a guy and not 'it' like you used to. Maybe its still there, but I know its dying. You sound happy M, and that makes me super-duper-yabba-dabba-doo-ey happy. You're one very special woman, and very brave. I always looked up to you, admired you, and wanted to be like you. I still do. And when you grow up to be this superstar diva, I will tell people around me, you were my first best friend.

..And I don't need no Carryin' on..

Disturbed. Distressed. Tired. Tensed. Frustrated. Fed up. Misunderstood. At times. Mistaken. A lot. Messed up. More than I can clean up. More than I had expected. More than I can handle. An apology for an existence. Like a pebble lying inconspicuously on the road. A stone which does nothing but gather moss. And once in a while, in an uncanny rush of enthusiasm, tries to do something useful, and ends up causing an accident and getting kicked out of the way so that the world can resume its journey in peace. Me = Useless. Waste of space. And there will be no happy ending. Just a lot of 'crashing' and 'burning'.

No expectations. No explanations. No clarifications. Everything has already spiralled way beyond control. Its time she learnt. To shut up. And start keeping her secrets. To herself.

The DQ raised a very good question yesterday. "Why do you hate it so much here?". To which I mumbled some rubbish about the city making me feel unwanted, and out-of-place. But the truth is, I have no answer. I do not know. Why am I such a freaked out psycho? Why am I such a whine? Why do I have an issue with everything? Why do I write such embarrassingly stupid stuff? What exactly is my problem? I have no clue. Like The Dark Lord puts it, they don't teach us all that in JEE coaching classes.





Help. Please.

Just another face in the crowd

Sometimes the seemingly most innocent and innocuous statements stimulate the extremest of reactions. I remember a friend writing to me, in a particularly sentimental letter about how once my saying "Khush raha kar" had touched her deeply. I remember thinking this wasn't what you would call the quintessential tear-jerker super-awesomely mushy statement which would get you all emotional, and definitely not one which you would expect people to remember you by. But as I now stood, clutching desperately onto the phone, with the familiar warm voice cooing 'Try and be happy, beta', I realised how much something like this affects you when you know how you are fighting your way through the day, the hour, the moment. How difficult it is to maintain a bright and cheery exterior when your insides are tearing away at every smile you fake. How it feels to fall down and have nobody's hand to pull you up, but your own. And how you try to survive solely on the distant hope that you'll be visiting home soon. Sheesh. 'Visiting home'. Going back home. Where I belong. And will always.

Stupid Cupid.

Why is it that on the day and at the time you're feeling your worst is when the one true crush of your life decides to suddenly and unexpectedly tap your shoulder all 'Hey'-ey as you're trudging along after a long tiring day with a bitter expression on your face, (why bitter? because you just tasted life). And then instead of a sweet charming 'Hi' all you can say is 'Yikes', while that pink thing inside your ribcage, which used to be as big as your right-hand but has now swollen to mammoth proportions, keeps going 'Yayayayay' all through. And then the rest of the way back home, you can't help but keep praying 'Oh God, please please please could I have been looking drop dead gorgeous', though you know this was the very day you had forgotten to comb your hair and were most definitely looking five months pregnant.
Sigh.


PS - Its when you read Neil Nitin Mukesh as Nitin Jain, do your realise you're officially obsessed.