If you could turn time and change something, what would it be?
I would go back to the shady fest and acknowledge that girl's request. She could have won the treasure hunt if only I had purchased a lemonade from that counter selling Nachos with Sour Cream. I feel hopeless about letting someone down when I had the power to the change the outcome of the game, especially now.
I would go back to the shady fest and acknowledge that girl's request. She could have won the treasure hunt if only I had purchased a lemonade from that counter selling Nachos with Sour Cream. I feel hopeless about letting someone down when I had the power to the change the outcome of the game, especially now.
College reopened today and in an hour time's I was entirely sure of what a grave mistake it had been joining this institute. Half of the repulsive classmates were missing and that wasn't a saving grace so one can imagine how hard the rest of the term will be. If that's not all, the course load seems to be shitloads, only to be completed in the course of four months.
This term is about picking our final piece between Radio and Photography. As much as I like the latter, I can't seem to pick the technique and manage viva shit. The former will ensure some shitty job at the end of these two years. Latter is more inclined towards the course I wanted to pursue from SOAS, former means easy. I don't know what option I'll end up taking but as of now I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown with the attack of strange.
The only sort of respite is the prescribed list of readings. The syllabi for one of my papers is more of less concerning anthropology, aesthetics and media. Came home with the reading lsit and downloaded it all. Pleasantly surprised at the end of the day by finding a brand new copy of Susan Sontag's book at home, which is also the main text.
I like to talk nerd. It's the last of those ties that remains with me. It'll be a pain studying theory with uninterested nincompoops and asslickers. I can only hope I don't turn into one if them by the end. I'd prefer to be chaloo fancy as I've been described by a dear classmate, as opposed to one of them.
This term is about picking our final piece between Radio and Photography. As much as I like the latter, I can't seem to pick the technique and manage viva shit. The former will ensure some shitty job at the end of these two years. Latter is more inclined towards the course I wanted to pursue from SOAS, former means easy. I don't know what option I'll end up taking but as of now I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown with the attack of strange.
The only sort of respite is the prescribed list of readings. The syllabi for one of my papers is more of less concerning anthropology, aesthetics and media. Came home with the reading lsit and downloaded it all. Pleasantly surprised at the end of the day by finding a brand new copy of Susan Sontag's book at home, which is also the main text.
I like to talk nerd. It's the last of those ties that remains with me. It'll be a pain studying theory with uninterested nincompoops and asslickers. I can only hope I don't turn into one if them by the end. I'd prefer to be chaloo fancy as I've been described by a dear classmate, as opposed to one of them.
I don't understand how does a concept like "best friend" works. We are all lead to believe about this certain creature, as lovely and mysterious in it's presence to humans. Much like unicorns this creature exists and all of us are blessed enough to have one (or several, depending on your age and cynicism).
Take my history on best friend for an instance. I had these two girls I was extremely close to, back in primary school. We stuck around together for a while and then it ended, mush like how they portray in them mindless teenage flicks. The school dynamics, set in liberalised India- McDonalds birthday parties, abusing the landline and progressing to owning a cell-phone, testimonials on Hi5. If you're a North Indian kid, born and brought up in the 90s, you'd associate with the aforementioned. Like most kids, I had a bigger social circle than these two said best friends and we were a tighter sub-group within that set. Following from a Lindsay Lohan or a Hillary Duff flick, I went on to become a teenage rebel, goth-punk obsessed freak (my school should be thankful to me for introducing Chuck Taylor to them). My so called best friend got better friends- the "sluts" who would be on a constant lookout for men. Essentially, we grew up to worship different things. While I embraced Harry Potter, she was still on Shinchan and shit in that order. That stuff didn't last for long. We had several fall-outs and somewhere towards the end of school, we had irreconcilable differences. It's been four years that I've spoken to/ heard from her. Not to sound bitter or anything but I'd lost faith in this whole fucking system in eight grade when I was neglected over a slut. You just don't grow up, do you?
Of course, life wasn't as hard as I describe it. In the process of growing up, I found myself a friend, who won the much coveted best friend title. Like all good things, it came to an end, sooner than anything. This best friend was moving to a cooler school in the city and I couldn't get comfortable with the fact for the six months that followed. We continued talking on the phone (landline for the win!), we'd meet up regularly. That would involve a lunch and lots of gossip- the guy she liked, the one I liked (for the record, our crushes went to a different school and they were friends, also didn't know anything but our name.). This one time her crush was over, she was in night-suit and oiled hair. That was a story we remembered for a long time until memory was shadowed with banal details of our new crushes. Now, there's Facebook, back then it was personal, even with Myspace and cellphones. There was something else about growing up as a teen in early 2k. That time was right on the centre of advancements and surprisingly didn't last long.
Coming to college, we met once around my birthday and tried to keep in touch but shit got busy, excuses came up and new friendships were forged. Sure, she remained the winner of that best friend tag but we now had actual lives, as opposed to conjuring stuff over the cellphone. She was on a gap year to sit the entrances and I was living up as a freshman so we grew apart. Daily calls became weekly, then monthly and so on. I picked up work in my first year so the rest of my time went in editing and writing while she was slogging hard.
The year after that went by quickly. She got into a college outside Delhi, calls now became texts, weekly texts. I'd call her once a while, she'd be busy. She'd call me back and I would be in the middle of something. Also, it was hard to keep each other updated since neither of us knew the people we were with. Explaining the nature and intricacies over the phone is time consuming and painfully tiring so we kept our calls crisp and fun. I heard from her one fine day, she'd got herself transferred to some college in Delhi and she was back. Now, the peculiar thing about my best friend, unlike your or someone else's best friend is that, she didn't bother to get herself Facebook or Orkut or any such nonsense. If I had to show her something or someone, I had to give her my account details to access Facebook. This meant that we weren't even catching up or keeping a tab on each other's lives virtually.
Staying connected is a two way process. Both of us pulled out gradually, whenever we'd hear from each other (now once every three months) we'd update each other from where we'd left off and make it sound like it was yesterday that we met.
You'd find it odd to believe, in the last three years, I've met my best friend only once. We live in the same city, same sub city, and I bumped into her at the mall while was at another friend's birthday. It was a 7 minute meeting that ended up in exasperation and us trying to contain excitement, "What the hell are you doing here? Oh my god!". Yeah, people come to the mall to feed the fish. Stupid girls.
Fast forward all this, I spoke to her last on her birthday, to wish her and catch up. One of those after call text message included "...can't believe we've finally grown up."
Today, I heard from her after good three months and we couldn't get past, "I can't believe it. Shit." We talked like nobody's business. Topics have changed slightly in all these years (career, masters, family as opposed to crushes, music, movies and books only)
Earlier during the day I get an inbox message with an attachment of a wedding card. Her sister's getting married. Will I be going? Of course. I sent her a text and that transpired a whole lot of conversation, this post and excitement.
Take my history on best friend for an instance. I had these two girls I was extremely close to, back in primary school. We stuck around together for a while and then it ended, mush like how they portray in them mindless teenage flicks. The school dynamics, set in liberalised India- McDonalds birthday parties, abusing the landline and progressing to owning a cell-phone, testimonials on Hi5. If you're a North Indian kid, born and brought up in the 90s, you'd associate with the aforementioned. Like most kids, I had a bigger social circle than these two said best friends and we were a tighter sub-group within that set. Following from a Lindsay Lohan or a Hillary Duff flick, I went on to become a teenage rebel, goth-punk obsessed freak (my school should be thankful to me for introducing Chuck Taylor to them). My so called best friend got better friends- the "sluts" who would be on a constant lookout for men. Essentially, we grew up to worship different things. While I embraced Harry Potter, she was still on Shinchan and shit in that order. That stuff didn't last for long. We had several fall-outs and somewhere towards the end of school, we had irreconcilable differences. It's been four years that I've spoken to/ heard from her. Not to sound bitter or anything but I'd lost faith in this whole fucking system in eight grade when I was neglected over a slut. You just don't grow up, do you?
Of course, life wasn't as hard as I describe it. In the process of growing up, I found myself a friend, who won the much coveted best friend title. Like all good things, it came to an end, sooner than anything. This best friend was moving to a cooler school in the city and I couldn't get comfortable with the fact for the six months that followed. We continued talking on the phone (landline for the win!), we'd meet up regularly. That would involve a lunch and lots of gossip- the guy she liked, the one I liked (for the record, our crushes went to a different school and they were friends, also didn't know anything but our name.). This one time her crush was over, she was in night-suit and oiled hair. That was a story we remembered for a long time until memory was shadowed with banal details of our new crushes. Now, there's Facebook, back then it was personal, even with Myspace and cellphones. There was something else about growing up as a teen in early 2k. That time was right on the centre of advancements and surprisingly didn't last long.
Coming to college, we met once around my birthday and tried to keep in touch but shit got busy, excuses came up and new friendships were forged. Sure, she remained the winner of that best friend tag but we now had actual lives, as opposed to conjuring stuff over the cellphone. She was on a gap year to sit the entrances and I was living up as a freshman so we grew apart. Daily calls became weekly, then monthly and so on. I picked up work in my first year so the rest of my time went in editing and writing while she was slogging hard.
The year after that went by quickly. She got into a college outside Delhi, calls now became texts, weekly texts. I'd call her once a while, she'd be busy. She'd call me back and I would be in the middle of something. Also, it was hard to keep each other updated since neither of us knew the people we were with. Explaining the nature and intricacies over the phone is time consuming and painfully tiring so we kept our calls crisp and fun. I heard from her one fine day, she'd got herself transferred to some college in Delhi and she was back. Now, the peculiar thing about my best friend, unlike your or someone else's best friend is that, she didn't bother to get herself Facebook or Orkut or any such nonsense. If I had to show her something or someone, I had to give her my account details to access Facebook. This meant that we weren't even catching up or keeping a tab on each other's lives virtually.
Staying connected is a two way process. Both of us pulled out gradually, whenever we'd hear from each other (now once every three months) we'd update each other from where we'd left off and make it sound like it was yesterday that we met.
You'd find it odd to believe, in the last three years, I've met my best friend only once. We live in the same city, same sub city, and I bumped into her at the mall while was at another friend's birthday. It was a 7 minute meeting that ended up in exasperation and us trying to contain excitement, "What the hell are you doing here? Oh my god!". Yeah, people come to the mall to feed the fish. Stupid girls.
Fast forward all this, I spoke to her last on her birthday, to wish her and catch up. One of those after call text message included "...can't believe we've finally grown up."
Today, I heard from her after good three months and we couldn't get past, "I can't believe it. Shit." We talked like nobody's business. Topics have changed slightly in all these years (career, masters, family as opposed to crushes, music, movies and books only)
Earlier during the day I get an inbox message with an attachment of a wedding card. Her sister's getting married. Will I be going? Of course. I sent her a text and that transpired a whole lot of conversation, this post and excitement.
Let's see what do we have here. Another four days of sleeping in till noon before college kicks in and reality shrills in my mind- work like a jackass for no return, really. I haven't written in a while. Also because there is nothing to to pour out of my head. I've spent about a month and a half sleeping through Delhi winters in Delhi. No Dubai, no Malaysia, no Macbook, no nude heels or red pants and definitely no life.
It's a peculiar kind of feeling, much like wisdom tooth that you incur at some stage- sooner or later which essentially spells out that those goals you thought of achieving at the age of eight are all a big fat lie fed to your mind for distraction by the conditioning and the state of affairs around you. If you've been under the belief (much like me) that you'll have a major breakthrough in your life when you start masters or that the idea of writing and playing bass can work together like cheese and bread, you might just be proven wrong yet again, only to crash back on a bed of disappointments. The same bed that holds unfinished language courses, badly learnt instruments, career that didn't take off, problems that come minus any relationship tag and well ofcourse mother of all evils, being broke.
I'm sick of turning down events and avoiding people. Here's a real low down why, I've spent more than I could afford on books, enough to last me next two years. To top that, every once in a while, I let myself scroll flipkart/homeshop18 where I further blow remaining pocket money. If that isn't enough, I schedule atleast one shopping trip (which turns into guilt ridden with heavy bags full of blazers and shoes) with Tea Sharma. At the end of the fucking month, I've no money to buy myself a plate of lunch platter from college canteen. I have no idea how or why this is escalating into a major problem but I guess it is. Funny how I am actually being a cash-strapped adult already, without any student loan and shit.
It's a peculiar kind of feeling, much like wisdom tooth that you incur at some stage- sooner or later which essentially spells out that those goals you thought of achieving at the age of eight are all a big fat lie fed to your mind for distraction by the conditioning and the state of affairs around you. If you've been under the belief (much like me) that you'll have a major breakthrough in your life when you start masters or that the idea of writing and playing bass can work together like cheese and bread, you might just be proven wrong yet again, only to crash back on a bed of disappointments. The same bed that holds unfinished language courses, badly learnt instruments, career that didn't take off, problems that come minus any relationship tag and well ofcourse mother of all evils, being broke.
I'm sick of turning down events and avoiding people. Here's a real low down why, I've spent more than I could afford on books, enough to last me next two years. To top that, every once in a while, I let myself scroll flipkart/homeshop18 where I further blow remaining pocket money. If that isn't enough, I schedule atleast one shopping trip (which turns into guilt ridden with heavy bags full of blazers and shoes) with Tea Sharma. At the end of the fucking month, I've no money to buy myself a plate of lunch platter from college canteen. I have no idea how or why this is escalating into a major problem but I guess it is. Funny how I am actually being a cash-strapped adult already, without any student loan and shit.
-
This stuff was written sometime back and was in archives. Shapeless emotions that went on to become an odd shapeless piece.
Things I have realised after turning 21, rather, in 2013:-
1) I am always broke.
2) I am a sucker for power dressing.
3) One cannot quit smoking, drinking and aerated drinks altogether.
4) I am fat and that upsets me now.
5) I am never losing this paunch.
6) I can never pursue bass playing formally.
7) I have never actually consumed gum after 8 pm. Right now I am chewing Chingles and feeling like a teen rebel.
8) I have no semblance of career or boyfriend or respect.
9) I hate my Grad school and people there and the feeling is mutual.
10) I might actually be failing first semester.
11) London is never happening. Neither is Anthropology. Because no one will ever give me scholarship.
12) I am so broke that I can't even buy a new pair of heels.
13) I am going to live on 1k this month because I am saving two month's pocket money for International Book Fair, to be held in Delhi.
14) I can't bake to save my life. Or ride a bicycle or drive a car.
15) Aerobics scares me more than injections. Actually, I'd prefer biopsy or tooth extraction over turning 180' against the wall, any day.
16) I write crap.
17) Nobody cares.
If you do, you're either very bored or stalking me or just a bout of Ill luck.
If you read this, you know I need a hug, marshmallow and a cup of coffee.
1) I am always broke.
2) I am a sucker for power dressing.
3) One cannot quit smoking, drinking and aerated drinks altogether.
4) I am fat and that upsets me now.
5) I am never losing this paunch.
6) I can never pursue bass playing formally.
7) I have never actually consumed gum after 8 pm. Right now I am chewing Chingles and feeling like a teen rebel.
8) I have no semblance of career or boyfriend or respect.
9) I hate my Grad school and people there and the feeling is mutual.
10) I might actually be failing first semester.
11) London is never happening. Neither is Anthropology. Because no one will ever give me scholarship.
12) I am so broke that I can't even buy a new pair of heels.
13) I am going to live on 1k this month because I am saving two month's pocket money for International Book Fair, to be held in Delhi.
14) I can't bake to save my life. Or ride a bicycle or drive a car.
15) Aerobics scares me more than injections. Actually, I'd prefer biopsy or tooth extraction over turning 180' against the wall, any day.
16) I write crap.
17) Nobody cares.
If you do, you're either very bored or stalking me or just a bout of Ill luck.
If you read this, you know I need a hug, marshmallow and a cup of coffee.