This and That

Overheard:

"These experiments were carried away by..." - in a CHN lecture, spoken by, ahem, our lecturer.

"Aniline kiska test de raha hai? Amine ka?" - in CYP100

"Mera cyclohexane to koi functional group ka test nahi de raha, ma'm!!" - in CYP100

"Is Benzamide testing positive for amide?"
"Amide? Wo kaha check karna hai? Am testing it for urea" - Yeah. Again. CYP100. Do all those chemicals do something to our brain?

"Tum bhi Kanpur se ho na, sahi hote hain Kanpur ke log tumhari TA bhi Kanpur se hai, usne N2O6 isolate kiya hai, aur tumse aniline ka test nahi ho raha" - The prof, to me. (CYP100)

"Ye ladki hote huye bhi tumse kitna achha kaam karti hai" - MEL110, the ladki in question being me. My respect for the prof went down a couple of notches. "Ladki hote hue bhi" means what...?

"Yaar, Informals mein please Nitin Jain ko bula le, please please please, main kuch bhi karungi, puri zindagi tere slave banke rahungi"
"Itna kya obsessed ho? JEE AIR 1 hi to hai!"
Wahi to. Sirf AIR 1. Bas. Tuchha.

***

You forgot her birthday. She isn't in crush anymore. Period.

***

And two people she thought would, did not call her at 12, she was very very disappointed. :( wala.

***

PS - Change of plan. No restricted access, yet.

***

Please don't lie to me. It breaks my heart.



Note 1: Birthday Wednesday. Credit cards accepted, cash preferred. :P

Note 2: I am now going to restrict readers for this blog. If any of you wish to continue reading, please let me know your Google account ID so that I can allow access. Thank You.

The girl who hated chocolate.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was a happy child. Pretty much most of the time. She cried only when she had to visit the doctor. Then she grew up, came to the eleventh standard. IIT happened. She went to college. The people around her were nice. But she wasn't happy. She knew she had no proper reason for it. She knew she was insulting all the good things in her life by being a whine. She knew what upset her were all very trivial things. Somebody in her hostel lying to her is actually a joke when there's terrorism and poverty and insane stuff like that. She knew. She knew she should be very grateful for what she had. But at that point of time, a week before her eighteenth birthday, nothing else mattered. Her birthday had always been her most favourite time of the year. She would wait for the day all year round. And the whole eighteenth thing made it extra special. She had wanted it to be big. Maybe even small, just, special. It was her eighteenth, for Godssake. She would be entering adulthood. Would not have made much of a difference, she still wouldn't drive, she couldn't have voted for the next 4 years, and she already watched adult movies. Still, eighteenth. EIGHTEENTH.
In a weird place. With weird people. Half of whom would not even know its her birthday. Almost the whole batch would wish her in school. Now it was college. Stoopid snooty college. Away from her parents. And her three best friends in the whole world.
She feared it would be...boring. Or worse, sad. The girl, she always hated chocolate. But now, she wanted some. Its good if you're depressed, or so she had heard.


She doesn't want comments on this post. She doesn't want to talk to anybody. If she doesn't reply to your messages/calls/mails, please excuse her. She's just not in the right frame of mind. She is screwed up, pretty much. And the whole idea of having a sorry birthday doesn't appeal to her. Which is making her :( - er.

[She did not even laugh when somebody called "chilled_****2004" messaged her.]

She knows everybody is going to find this supremely 'immature' or 'childish' or 'plain stupid'. Maybe she will too, in time. But for now, No comments, please.

[Not a lot of people comment anyway, but whatever.]

PS - She is scared of sounding silly. And vulnerable. And stupid. And of losing the only confidante she has in here. Or maybe she already has. She is such a chep. She's a crazy crazy girl. Maybe she deserves what she's getting. And now she's rambling. And praying nobody reads this. She could just choose to not publish it. But she will. Somebody told her to not care too much about what other people think. But she's now scared of what 'somebody' might think. If he reads. An event she doesn't think will happen.

Geez. She's a total mess.

And writing it all out did not make her feel any better. Like she thought it would.

:(

Blah, blah and more blahs.

>>>

I've had this conversation a lot of times this past fortnight:

Random Person In Hostel: Are you an only child?
Me: Yeah. Howdyuknow?
Random Person In Hostel: You look all cute, and you know, pampered.
Me: Uh, um, is that a good thing? Looking pampered?
Random Person In Hostel: Haha.

Hear one, hear all. When I ask you a question, I want an answer. Do NOT Laugh, and if am talking to you online, do not LOL or :) or :D or anyfunnystuff like that. Because maybe I look like a kid(Yes, I have been told that by 3126 people in the insti. And its been just 4 weeks. Imagine!) and thus you might be compelled to take all my questions in jest, but I actually, totally, am serious all the time(mostly), and I HAAAAATE being called a kid, I've had enough, please. I mean it. I am turning 18 in 11 days. Please? PLEASE?

>>>

Ever since I've come home, Mum-Dad are like, 'Kitni patli ho gayi!!'. Which makes me thing exactly how fat I was earlier. Geez.

>>>

Why do you need to tell somebody you love them? Why can't they just...understand?

>>>

I get terribly awkward and embarrassed at times, and I've been asked, by my *having-our-best-interests-at-heart* seniors, to not look at seniors so much while walking around the insti, and guess who do I turn to in times of such solid distress. My Cell phone! So the next time you see me busy typing furiously on my cell, don't think am messaging, am just locking and unlocking the keypad.

>>>

Something I've been noticing over the past few months(years?) is that people don't usually reply when you say Sorry. Another funny thing is that they say 'Its okay' when you say Thank You. Not that its wrong, but really, its been like one hundred fifty seven days since anybody said 'Welcome' or 'My pleasure' to me. And there was this guy in my chem lab class who went all 'Its alright. Don't mind. My pleasure. No problem' when I said Thank You for having borrowed his pen. Gives an entirely new definition to etiquette. Or maybe its just over-enthu? He must have been from the Aravali hostel, their chant goes 'Ara ka enthu high hai'. *Starts fiddling with her cell*. Ok, I understand its not funny. This point was totally random, but its 1 am at night, what else do you expect?

>>>

I realised when I'm really really happy, I sing. And sing really well, or so I would like to believe. And your opinion on this issue is so not solicited. :P

>>>

I am neck-deep in shit. Work, I mean. Work = Shit, pretty much. And the weekend is going to be over soon. Monday ko professors ko kya muh dikhaungi? :(

>>>

Ra, sweetheart, am sorry, okay? I'll make it up to you. Which reminds me, I have a lot of making up to do, to lots of people. Sigh.

*From The Archives*

"You dont trust me?" He asked.
"Not as much as I would come to, eventually."
The Great Dodge again, he hated 'Her Sly-ness' as much as he loved her, yet was awed again and again by her remarkable way with words. Who knows, one day, maybe he would learn to speak like her. If not him, at least their kids would. At this thought, he said a silent prayer. Of having kids, who were just like her, of being together, long enough to have their own..

***

"Like everything else, this chapter will end too," she sighed. He tried to scan her voice to decipher whether she was grieved or relieved at the thought. With her, one would never know. She would state things, not say them. The evening I saw her last, sunshine gleamed through her eyes. For once, in 2 years of knowing her, did I actually see her going ballistic with joy. She knew what was to come, but she wasn't scared. She gave the impression of being a woman in control, of being completely independent and self-assured. The kinds who would take offence if you offered to pay her bills, or open doors for her. She pretended to throw a little tantrum too, each time he put a display of his betraying-his-upbringing chivalry. But he knew, how she loved it. How she concealed her blushing smile beneath oodles of pseudo-anger.

In The Last Few Days...

* I have been called Shachi, Shuchi, Deepshikha, Shalini, Shanti, Shruvi, Shubhi, and, hold your breath...

Prof: "I remember the names of only two people in this class. Aniruddh, and Sushi."

Sushi. Yes, that Japanese delicacy.

* I have become numb-to-the-dumb. I did not even laugh at this:

Hostel-mate: "Itna to courage hona chahiye, yaar, batch rep mein, you should have some gut feeling, you know."

* I have eaten out almost e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y. Am turning out to be such a Paris Hilton. Toned down, of course.

* I have been smiling in my sleep. Guess why. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

* I have been smiling waking too. Touchwood.

* But this weekend, and truckloads of work to be done, will do its best to snatch my smile. But I'll fight, I'll give it my best shot. :)

* Love Aajkal. Mission Accomplished. Literally, and otherwise. Go figure. :P



EDIT ( 8-Aug-09) : Gaya smile. Khush ho gaye tum?

Delhi Diaries: The Gyaan Guru Speaks

#Never go walking anywhere in Delhi. The supposed 'pavement' has a number of surprises in store for you, including puddles and potholes. Plus, a lot of drivers get their kicks by zooming an inch past you even when the whole road is available.

#Don't drink 'thandi lassi' at dodgy outlets even if you feel you are near-death. Trust me, a throat on fire is the last thing you want when you've already burnt the last calorie in your body.

#Don't go shopping at places where you think you'll get stuff cheap. The only cheapos you come across are people.

#The 'Excuse Me' culture doesn't work here. They'll just push you out of their way. Gives a whole new dimension to the adage 'Creating your own opportunities'.

#Staring back at people who stare at you doesn't help. They'll just stare harder. And will also probably like it.

#The Autowallahs are the sweetest people. Usually 'Happy to Help'. :)

# Don't drink Lassi, 2 glasses of Pepsi, and Orange juice one after the other. You may be very thirsty, but your tummy exploding is not a nice feeling at all.

This post was written after a particularly excruciating and fruitless trip to Ber Sarai. If I sound uber-pissed, its probably because I am.

The Three Mistakes of My Life

*Strictly in alphabetical order*

Amrita: I was introduced to her by Kiran Ma'm(our Hindi teacher) when I had changed schools and wanted someone to take notes(copy Q&A) from. My Hindi was as crude as it could get, and hers was, well, Sanskrit. The only words I understood were 'hai' and 'tha' and 'kya' and 'kyun'. But she helped me learn. I always depended on her for Hindi. I remember her dictating answers to me on the phone, patiently, benevolently. I remember her laughing when I told her I'd written 'Vara' as the feminine word for 'Var' in our Hindi test. I remember her laughing even more when I cribbed it wasn't given anywhere in the textbook. And ha, I pipped her in Hindi in the tenth boards, I got 96, and she got 95. Yet, 95 out of the 96 marks I got, are unquestionably accreditted to her. I remember talking to her on the phone on the day the tenth board results were declared. I remember both of us being super-scared of failing. I remember she was still on the phone when the CBSE website(late by 8 minutes) finally updated. And I remember us having the same total. 576/600. The one result in my life I'll always cherish. And who better a person to share the utter bliss with. I remember eleventh and twelfth, and its trials and tribulations. I remember the stupid jokes we cracked, and still could never stop laughing at. I remember us crying together on your birthday, you consoling me. I could never. You refused to be "consoled". I remember you yelling 'molestation'. When somebody stared. :|. I remember holding hands when test papers would be distributed. I remember cuddling up in class, sitting so close the teachers thought we were gay. You always knew the best thing to do in a given situation. I always always always looked up to you. You knew me inside out. You would know why I buried myself inside my bag in class. You would know when I was going to cry. Sometimes the most trivial of things hurt me, and you knew every one of them. You knew of all the times I'd wronged, but you never judged me for them. One of your many qualities I hope to emulate. I never told you I love you, I know both of us are a little edgy with PDA, but I know you know. And I know you'll accept it. And me. Without question. Forever.

Rashi: The Princess of Poise. The Propah one. With not a single hairstrand out of place. The only other person(the other being me, of course :P) in our group(of diplomacy queens) who would speak her mind. And that's why we had a lot of arguments in our first year together. And that's why we never had any grudges. Because we always said what we felt. Coming back to the point, the proper girl who always knew how to control her words and her voice, unlike me who would yap around in my very screech-y voice. I remember my fun-est day this summer. The day we spent doing a lot of illegal things, the sales lady knocking on the changing room doors when we were locked in, rather gleefully, for one and a half hours, I remember me saying the dress isn't coming off, them laughing, us laughing, at entirely different things, of course. Trying to look all normal in front of the guards. And how we scampered off as soon as we were out of his sight, and reach. I have seen you stand brave. I have seen you smile in duress. And I have learnt. Courage. *And also poise, I can never miss that word when I talk about you* You would do anything for the people you love, and you know how to make them feel special. You would shut me up when I would, as usual, be letting on more than I should in front of the wrong people. You have, unknowingly, protected me from a lot of image-damage, if I may say so. :D. And I'll always be grateful to you for that. And for a lot more things. Maybe this writeup is relatively shorter, but one thing's for sure, without you in my life, I would be much more crappier than I already am.

Ujjwala: The constant butt of all my jokes. You have, unintentionally given us a lot of comic relief in these last two pretty stressful years. And you still continue to. Like Now. And maybe the fact that you never mind is maybe the best thing about you. Or not. You're like the storehouse of virtues. Public Confession: She made me study, whatever little I did. If it weren't for her, I would probably be in Polytechnic somewhere or something like that. She would be the one I would call up and whine when I had done nothing the whole day with an exam the day after. It was like our ritual. Before e.v.e.r.y. exam. And she would unfailingly try and make me feel better, even when there was nothing to feel better about. I looked up to her. She was the sensible serious child. Who would 'feel guilty' if she watched TV for ten minutes on Diwali. Now, that was like the other end of the spectrum, but it was her I wanted to be like. Super hardworking. And I am still trying. But she left me in favour of IITK. :(. I was the rebel. She was the conservationalist. Somewhere in our two years together, I guess we moderated each other. She's the one who's never afraid of asking questions. Of sounding stupid. Again, something I want to learn from her. I remember her goofy toothy grin. And I am dying to watch her laugh again. I remember talking late into the night with her. Like proper 2 o clock late. Before the JEE results. Before the XII results. I remember sharing fears. Dedicating songs. Disclosing secrets. Whatever little I had. Dreaming up perfect love stories together. Our common love for books/movies. Of those kind. Celebrating when Mia chose Michael. Singing aloud, badly. Laughing at 'Intregation'. Laughing at everything. Laughing at nothing in particular. The Zoya Factor. Yawning in mechanics together. The Capacitance class we both slept in, because of the sleepover the day before *in which nobody slept*. And four months of not knowing what capacitors are all about. Cribbing about rotation. And life in general.
I really hope things materialise between the Asscoordi(!) and you, 'cause when you're happy, I'm happy. :P