Literally-historic diwali!

thats the summary of my day- a new blogpost coming soon about how beautiful the day was!

The little dove.

I have a dove.
it's a good comrade.
It sits next to me and whispers with its eyes.
Its peaceful, and simple.
I feel happy and secure.
It looks slowly in another direction.
I smile. I love the dove.
It suddenly tries to fly.
I hold on, tightly. Afraid to let go.
A sudden fear.
the dove looks reproachfully at me.
I loosen my hold.
I let it go.
and it flies away into the sky.
I look at it, and try to smile.
It swoops near me. And then it vanishes in a blur.
It comes and goes as if to give me comfort.
And now its just a haze.

"If you love something, set it free. If it comes back...it was always yours."

Durga Puja-expedition!

This year literally is my year of firsts. Be it Rakshabandhan, Janmashtami, or Durga Puja! I expect to celebrate Christmas in true style too.
So I set off for the Pujas today, and practically looked at the day through Bengali eyes. There was actually a ten percent of me which wished I could be a Bengali. Only ten percent. :D
We visited three Pandals, all in CR Park, which surprisingly seemed within short walking distance of each other. And, by this time you might have guessed I am not much of the physical fitness type. But nevertheless I think I ploughed on decently, till the third pandal. By the third pandal, I was huffing and puffing.
Each Pandal was beautifully and lavishly decorated, and I really appreciated how beautifully everyone was dressed. When I heard the comparisons between Durga Puja in Calcutta, and in Delhi, I suddenly wished I could see what Calcutta was like at this time of the year. I gradually learnt more about the Gods as I visited each Pandal, and I underwent the ritual of Pushpanjali thrice.
There were so many things to observe, and I felt as I was part of an entirely different world altogether. Not to mention, I loved hearing people speaking in Bengali. I think I'm a wannabe Bengali :/
We stood in a long line for the food (there is a specific name I am not sure how to spell, so I won't dare try). I usually detest standing in lines, and I'm the first to stamp my feet and groan. However, for once (and luckily for my friends) I didn't mind at all, and kept myself entertained by watching people on the stage, and listening to the announcer who seemed obsessed with making sure no one dirtied the chairs.
The food was quite good, and I felt rather stuffed. I had already eaten prasad from the other two pandals. Yet amazingly, that did not stop me from devouring magnificently made fish. When it comes to fish, or rather any non-veg, I don't think I draw any lines!
I enjoyed the day so thoroughly, despite the fact that by the time we left the third Pandal, I was dead on my feet. I even ate a Chuski, something I've eaten only once in my life. I finished it off like an ice cream, and tried to palm it off to my friends to finish off the water, as I was already choking. Nevertheless, I made it half-way through!!!
To say the least, I think I'm going to go again next year. I loved everything about the day!

Faces and Voices

She looks around
She sees a whirl of familiar faces
They whirl around her in a blurred haze.
They whisper
But she can’t hear them.
She is too drained.
She can’t understand.
She closes her eyes.
She can hear them.
She knows a few tones.
Some distressed, some angry
Some indifferent, some commanding
Some soothing, yet not so soothing
Some brutally attack her for sins which she had not committed.
The whispers become loud voices which come crashing down upon her
They now are in complaining tones
upset, and worrying her.
But she doesn’t know what to say.
Her anxiety rises.
But she tries to keep a calm stance.
For them, she tells herself sternly.
But her voice is lost amidst their voices.
her words of comfort, wasted.
The voices never ask how she is.
The voices don’t know the unsteadiness she feels.
The faces vanish.
The voices stop abruptly.
Its quiet.
Its all dark now.
She can’t stop them from breaking
When she herself is breaking.

Looking for the rainbow.

There's a rainbow out there somewhere
it's a little hard to find
but I'm sure if I walk through the dark clouds and rain
I'll find it.
the path to it maybe hidden
But I won't mind.
because I know its out there
no matter how discrete
I'll just keep walking
I'll find my way out
even if its alone and cold
there's that little hope and faith
which will be my faithful comrades
I won't let the clouds win
I don't want to wast time and hurt the clouds.
I just want that rainbow.
I'll find it.
and maybe then I'll see the real sunshine too.

Pensive

sitting at my desk
chin in hand
I had certain reflections.
about life.
how lucky we all are.
why whine about petty things
which could never happen
and never will?
why be remorseful about things of the past?
why hurt continuously about shallow things?
sometimes
when you're faced with the worst situation
or put in somebody else's shoes
you see things differently.
and that's how I feel right now.
to make each day count
to make every day worth it
to appreciate what we have
to appreciate who loves us, and what we love.
we need it all.
dealing with the situations and circumstances
no matter how painful.
because you have people with you.
strong support systems.
courage, and strength.
lets love what we have.
and look beyond the superfluous
superficiality of it all.
there's so much more.
so much more.
and keep it all close.
cherish them.
because the ultimate grief is
when we lose them.
lets keep them close.
keep them close.
and make each day count.

I know you.

Pride.
Pride and pure happiness
engulfs me.
A tear of pride.
I'll always be proud of you.
Your talents make me cheer.
Your brilliance brings on happiness
Your complete and utter devotion to passions
I'll always be proud.
I know you'll go a long way
I know nothing will ever stop you now.
I know you'll see the sun, the moon and stars
I know you'll sail through it all
I see you, as I've seen you before
I see you in everything you do.
Respect, and praise
is less than what you deserve
You deserve fame
you deserve honour
you deserve love
you deserve it all.
I'll watch you carefully
and smile to myself.
Saying,
I know this girl.
I know her.
She'll ring hearts of envy
because she'll rise above it all
I know her.
Her strengths outshine it all.
I know her.
I see her.
i see her in the future
I see her as the shining star.
I see her as the inspiration
I see her as the idol.
I know her.
She'll be there.
She'll reach the top.
She'll accomplish more than glory
more than one has known
more than one has seen
she'll shine through it all.
lets make way.
the star has risen
one with pure faith
one with firm beliefs
the pure ideals
nothing tainted
I know her.
I see her.
She's the guiding star.
She'll go very far.
Very, very far.
And I'll sit and smile.
because I know you. :)

The real dreams

Have you ever had that dream which seemed so real that when you got up, you were terribly disappointed that it wasn't real?
After that dream, you feel strange.
As if it was real. And yet it wasn't.
The clear sights.
The distinct feeling of ecstasy, hope, grief, shock, confusion.
And you have the same feeling when you wake up.
What would it be like, if we had an option of residing in our dream?
Because it was too perfect?
And we didn't have to come back to a different reality?
Life in a dream, would be beautiful.
It would be the way we want it.
Yet, it would sting somewhere that this isn't really happening to me, and one day or another I have to get back and face the music.
Sometimes we try holding desperately on to these dreams.
Yet we are always brought back to reality.
We have to face the music eventually.
Yet- when I close my eyes- I see different things. As if...an alternate universe. What could have been, what could be...and maybe...what should not be.
I open my eyes and I see truth.
But I won't stop dreaming.
Because one day, it might transform into reality.
Till then, I'll cherish those dreams.
The dreams I hold close.
One of those dreams which might come true.

Conscience persona

I always wondered, what my conscience would like if it was a person?
Well.
Again, my imagination is going places.
She would have a pretty crop-cut.
And dangling ear-rings. With differently coloured bangles.
And a weapon in one hand.
Hmm. A hammer. To unsuccessfully knock sense into me.
And a victory flag in one hand to wave, when she is successful.
Considering I have guilt-overflow on a few occasions, I'm guessing she has a frightening laser gun on those rare occasions to get the point across.
She would have matching clothes, considering I don't. :D
And...um she would have to be a little more assertive when telling me to study :P

aah, I think I'm slightly crazy.

The motorcyclist

So for the first half of the day, I walked around with two black eyes.
Now here's a story I imagined, which was much more extravagant than the truth. So here goes:
I woke up in the morning, and found that I had only five minutes to get ready. I rushed out of the house, stole the guard's cycle and cycled through Absurdville (sounds so much better than Zamrudhpur). I cycled as fast as I could, and I almost knocked into a motorcyclist. He threw his helmet at me, and I put up iron-like hand which deflected his aim.
He got angry, and chucked his motor bike to one side. I also threw my stolen bike to one side, and ran for my life.
I took out the chicken biryani from my bag and threw it at his face. What a waste of chicken biryani. I rushed behind the reliance shop, and he miraculously sped to a terrace and started throwing potatoes at me. I dodged the potatoes (matrix style) and with a brilliant reflex, and then decided to catch the potatoes in my hands.
Then I threw them down, as he had run out of groceries to throw.
It was time for the ultimate battle.
I picked up coconuts. Even in my imagination, I seem to have wrong reactions. I could never throw coconuts to that height.
He then took a rope which came flying out of nowhere and swung himself down, and demanded that I hand over my bag. I refused, as my bag had important rise of the modern west photocopies...and a register which had no notes, but beautiful doodles and cubes. Yet, it was my bag.
He demanded that I hand over Arvind Sinha's textbook 'Europe in Transition.' I couldn't.
Then he punched me in the eye. And then the other.
So I lost my temper.
Then I put kickboxing to good use.
I gave him a sucker punch in the face and broke a coconut on his head. Coconuts can actually knock a person out :P Then I put a victory flag on his scooter. Then for safety sake, I pepper-sprayed him.
But what to do now? I had two black eyes. I now looked like a racoon gone wrong. I gritted my teeth.

See, this is what happens when my imagination runs away with me. All that had happened was that I got up late, and didn't look in the mirror when putting Kohl in my eyes.
But I had fun imagining. :D

Phoebe's reaction to the world cup :D

:D
While Sri Lanka was batting, every time someone got out I would scream with joy. Phoebe would scuttle in, put her nose on my lap as if to say, "Please, I'm the only one at home with you, I'm worried."
And I would tell her happily, "WE CAN WIN THIS!" and she would trot away, getting more nervous by the minute.
I think she suffered ultimate trauma when India started batting.
When Sehwag got out, I ran towards the TV saying, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO! Mistake, mistake!" At that time she came to the door rather wistfully, wondering what she could do to handle the situation. She couldn't do much, and I was getting even more touchy and impatient, so I kept pushing her away.
When Sachin got out, I dropped the tray. Phoebe rushed in, and again she found that I was in a cricket dimension where I jut wanted to see victory.
AND THEN.
I was in a flux, between furiously writing on facebook, texting, and screaming at the same time. The rain of fours and sixes! Every time those happened, I hurrahed and yahooed.
Phoebe then came sat next to me and put a reassuring paw on my lap. As if to say, 'Alright. You're a darned psychopath, but I will stick by you."
Seven runs to go, I was biting nails furiously, and pulling my hair out of proportion.
Then Dhoni hit the six.
We won!!!
I called my friends, and was so busy yelling and jumping around that Phoebe came in and climbed under the bed in submission as if to say "I CANT DO MUCH NOW!!"
After a half an hour of euphoria, I finally pulled Phoebe out from beneath the bed.
She seems slightly wary of me, now :D
Ahh, the good life!!!

WE WON THE WORLD CUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO, India won the world cup.
I'm so so terribly happy.
And thrilled.
It's that brilliant feeling of euphoria.
The good part is, I'm writing it minutes after we won the world cup, because I want to remember this moment.
I rarely get attached to sports, frankly. But this time I DID. Because it was India, and somehow the feeling of India winning the world cup comes above every other sport. I'm not sure I would have been this overwhelmed had Brazil won the world cup.
There are somethings which are strange to explain.
But I'm thrilled, and ecstatic. It was a fantastic match, with nail-biting moments and screams which only Phoebe suffered. (She's still hiding under the bed)
It's amazing how faith keeps you going. That faith, and such complete belief. I won't deny that I was scared, and frustrated during the match....but I just had hope.
Oh what the heck, I'm so happy right now.
Pure brilliance :)
And I still feel quite teary eyed. :O

Cricket fever!

Okay, the title to be fair IS misleading.
I'm NOT obsessed with cricket, and never will I be. But, BUT I'm terribly happy that India made it to the finals, and somehow this time the world cup fever hit me stronger than ever.
The few occasions I've watched cricket...have only been World Cup occasions. And now, I'm writing this entry half an hour before the finals.
One thing which I've realized- in any sport- whichever team you support...support them fully till the last. Support each player, no matter what. After all there was a reason you chose to support them. One quote which struck me very strongly was, 'victory only creates liking for a bit, a defeat gets the real fans to love their team even more.' I got this off one of my friend's facebook status messages, and I agree with this so completely.
That's what a real fan does. There for the team till the end. With full faith, and belief.
And, I have faith in our Indian team. No matter what :)

The little things

So when I actually put it down to thinking, I would say eighth grade and the twelfth grade were the best years of school.
I think eighth was the best year of my school life for many reasons. I was in a new class, and I had new friends. And that's when my obsession of talking on the phone started- and this I owe completely to Mekhala.
When I think of eighth, I remember the X men obsession, the seven-hour record of talking on the phone, and our marks suffering terribly because of that, and how we would laugh it off.
I remember the 'stalking' and ' spying' because we believed that we were true X men. And I miss it all. It became a crucial part of my growing up.
So our friendship went through a queer phase...and at that time we were quick to misunderstand each other and seperate. And somehow, we could still never break off completely. It's one of those bonds which can somehow never be severed. We didn't talk for years, except for a quick hi and bye, and we perhaps didn't know ourselves better and were not mature enough to talk things out.
But you can never forget your first best friend. No matter what.
And in the last one year, we started talking randomly, and our friendship kicked off again. It's funny how things work out in the end. Maybe we needed those years off...to grow up and branch out.
And some friendships are meant to be. And this definitely was. It's come full circle.

So I saw Break Ke Baad.

So I watched Break ke Baad.
Did I like it?
How do I answer that question?
Here's what I could have done in those two hours.
-Water plants
-watch grass die.
-watch the guard and driver play cricket.
-Take out my Modwest textbook from my bag, consider studying it and then put it back.
-Visit the dentist, considering I'm five months late for my appointment.
-Give Phoebe a bath.
-Learn the recipe for my grandmother brilliant apple pie.
-cleaned up my desk.
-changed the batteries of my clocks which had been showing the wrong time for the last 10 months.
and many more.

I had heard mixed reviews about this movie. And they varied from ' Oh it was really amazing!' to 'Bleh. What a bore.' The second opinion seems to be closer to my opinion.
I died twice while watching the film.
Besides the ending seemed a tad confused. Suppose Aaliya hadn't realized her love for him, and didn't come back, then what would have been the point of the lavish decorations and the silk sherwani and the wedding card?
He would have looked rather sheepish then.
Again, Imran Khan makes me sad. I thought that after his previous washout of I hate Luv stories, there would be something nice about Break ke Baad.
Bleargh.
The funny point of the film was when Lillette Dubey entered, and I screamed, "HAHA, I'VE MET YOU IN REAL LIFE!!!!!!"
I love those rare occasions when I've seen people in films AND in real life.

The Gym washout. (literally!)

How do people manage to look so pretty and well-preserved after an hour of intense working out?
Here's my timeline:
6:45- Here I am, all enthusiastic and gung-ho. Start with treadmill.

7:00- My hair becomes slightly well...pouffy for lack of a better word. Beads of sweat under the eyes which makes my kajal spread and give it the racoon look. Next, stupid jumping exercises.

7:10- My hair comes undone, and becomes extremely frizzy. Hands turn pink.

7:30- after gruelling floor exercises, I can barely stand. Huffing and puffing.

7:35- I start planning my escape.

7:40- Ive planned my escape.

7:45- Being the stamina-less person I am, I croak to my trainer I can't do more, and hobble to the door. I turn back and see well-preserved comrades. The hair is in place, and they don't seem as if they've walked through a tornado.

Though once, I met a person who was so skinny that she could walk through bars in the gym. Not known for diplomacy, I asked, "How come you're here?"
And she replied, "My hands are fat."
See, people like this should walk with paper bags on their heads.

Glutton of a college cat.

So I was sitting at the table with my friends, eating butter chicken. I saw the Cat walk slowly across the cafe, looking rather sourly at my food.
It's a little hard to eat, when there is a cat sitting and mournfully staring at you.
So we tried hurrying through our food.
With every bite, the cat seemed to edge closer to the table.
In it's weird feline instincts, it knew that our meal was drawing to a close. It couldn't let that happen.
It edged closer.
It perched on the bench.
Anandi and Devika detested cats. More than they detested assignments and projects, and long hot summer afternoons which stretched throughout the day.
I usually loved cats. But not cats which posed a threat to my food.
Then Anon said, "Okay, Lakshana take the last bite!"
I just had put the fork into the curry when the wretched cat pounced and took the last bite and walked off with it's haughty tail in the air.
Probably to gloat with the other cats.
That's still hasn't changed my love for cats, though :D

Sugar rush!!!!!!

am learning the recipe of blueberry cheesecake! Wheeeee!!!!

Pale confusion

you leave me confused.
a pale confusion sets upon me.
i feel baffled
by your dual personality
either i'm your special loved one
or either i'm the preferred ignored
you draw me close
just to push me further away
you remain a dark mystery
yet i feel as if I understand you
i set about to understand why you say and do the things you do
why is there this misty aura around you?
why is nothing clear and simple?
layers, and layers
twisted and shaken apart
truth from lies
yet no lies.
why can't I push you away?
as easily as you can?
why is this friendship fraught
with bewilderment?
you leave me thinking unclear thoughts
you leave me in a blurred haze
is this friendship a blessing or a strain?
in time i feel soothed by it
rest I feel peevish
tension it is
covered by a false transparency of sweetness
I still picture you as I always did.
at times i feel it's all slipping through my fingers
you turn and alter my perception within minutes
yet just to bring it back to the same point...again within minutes.
I can't understand
perhaps I shall never.
you leave me at sea.

Forsaken

The leaves are rustling
the wind has driven them away.
Don't you enjoy this weather, James?
It is beautiful, yes indeed Ella.
I feel lost and cold in this darkness, James.
Not to worry, Ella.
but James- the monsters of my nightmares have come at last.
Scare them away, like you always used to.
I see them- they are far more fearsome
they're taking over.
James, why don't you say something?
what can I say, Ella?
Maybe you can tell me
your thoughts
your ideas
your feelings
are we friends at all, James?
Yes, we are, Ella.
Then why this silence?
why this painful effort to speak?
why this monosyllabic tension?
I don't know, Ella.
Our friendship is forbidden.
I don't want to lose our friendship, James.
It came like a brilliant light
in my hour of forsakeneness.
and now it's something I hold on dearly to.
I cherish.
I am not meant to be here with you.
lets not talk, Ella.
Why, James?
Why are you friends at all with me?
Why did you make me feel special in the first place?
if our friendship is forbidden?
you can't leave me here, now!
Fate has twisted Destiny, Ella.
friendship is a pale word.
It will wring hearts
and ruin relationships
it will burn out the ashes
I don't know why i thought otherwise!
and again the shaky world shall be deconstructed.
Then why did you come into my life?
What was your purpose?
Had I believed wrong notions of friendship?
false promises, false hopes? Just to be taken away?
I wish I could despise you, James.
I wish we weren't friends.
i wish you had left me in that state you had found me in.
i wish you had never come into my life.
you made me hope, believe...again.
and you take it back.
I wish I had never met you, James.
You don't wish it more than I do, Ella.