Thursday, 11 October 2007

My Starved Blog

My blog is like a dog. It needs to be nourished and fed and updated and right now its lying half starved, wracked with convulsions of hunger, on the floor. I can already hear the RSPCA at my door! Well, its time i updated! ("darn right!" exclaims my blog dog from the floor)

One and a half months! Doesn't feel like that short a while! I feel like so much has happened and yet i can't put my finger on any one of these incidents!
I went for a camp recently and though it didn't compare to any of the other camps I've been on, i loved it! The trek was the funnest part and though it was an elaborate treasure hunt, for the most part i just thought of it as a beautiful trek through one of the yellagiri hills! (Probably explains why my team lost)

Speaking of camps i just recalled the funnest camp i've been to! I went from Pune. I was in the ninth standard i think and the camp was in Nasik. It was organised by the army. And that's why i was surprised that though we were staying in a tent (as in all camps), we had cots and mattresses and a seperate tent as a bathroom (complete with sink and crap hole and bucket for a warm water bath.) Besides the five star accomodation and loo we also had a general three sided tent for lazing around or meetings that contained board games and other stuff for entertainment purposes. And there's more...there was also a mess tent where we had our meals on (wait for it) with plates and spoons! haha! I was laughing at how luxurious our camp was! And here i was worrying about crapping in the wilderness and using leaves (of a poisonous plant -knowing my luck) as toilet paper!
The camp was for three or four days and we had the time of our lives! We rappelled (i dunno if thats how its spelt) and trekked and it was fantastic! There were just about seven of us and the camp was equipped for at least forty kids so we got to do everything how many ever tijmes we liked!! I rappelled down that rockside so many times that i got confident and decided i wanted to walk down the side horizontally (i had seena few javans doing it). Well, that ended up in me dangling, shrieking somewhere in the middle, from where i had to be rescued (while still shrieking) I recovered fast and was back to rappelling in a few minutes...
We also drove down to a nearby lake and learnt how to kayak and rappel across a river and cook our own meals of khichdi. (Some survival training-mine was the colour of crap but that didn't stop me from eating it with great gusto)
Towards the end of it we were sat down and told to fill out a form about the camp and the experiences we had there. Budding writer that i was at the time, i wrote with great flourish and was careful to add loooong words that made mine sound more impressive than the others'. I gave it to the officer in charge with a supercilious expression and a smirk, thinking it would be added to a top secret database that was kept in a fireproof box within a fenced compund guarded by dogs. I came home .
And at home i was greeted with relative joy by my family (i was quite a pain when i was a child) and my eyes widened with horror when my father, with a sadistic smile on his face, read out words from a paper that were so very familiar. I had been betrayed!! In my overactive imagination i could picture the entire thing- the fence had been breached, the dogs dodged and the fireproof box broken open by my father. The next excruciating hour was spent on rahashing all the pretentious little things i had deemed appropriate for my camp form.
But it ended well when my mother gave me an appreciative pat on the back and said "How cute Shar! My baby!"
And my father grudgingly stops re-reading the form long enough to say "Looks like you had fun"
My sister, however, was still sniggering.

Monday, 20 August 2007

Incomprehensible (like this word)

Am i the only person the planet who doesn't get Facebook?
What is with all the applications? (Apparently you can join the Vampires club and bite random people thereafter. Why would you want to do something like that?)
Why, oh why, is it the new Orkut?
The only thing i like is the photo posting can share photos and you can add as many as you like..
I just realized i'm pretty challenged when it comes to stuff like this.
Eurgh...some people have to get a excuse me while i go and obsessively check other pople's profiles and photos on Facebook.
Bye now.
(I just realized today that if i make the entire post bold and make the font larger it makes the entry look larger than it actually is. Ah..the extents my laziness takes me to.)

Sunday, 19 August 2007


I've been thinking about war lately and i realized that i despise it. I hate the fact that man takes pleasure in upgrading devices whose main function is to kill someone. I hate the world of arms trafficking and how we can do zilch to stop it. Guns empower us-yeah rite! They make us feel we're powerful just because they enable us to hurt another person. Its traumatic actually, the thought of actually ending another person's life.

(Everything i've said above is kind of ironic, considering my father is in the army and i absolutely love the defense as a profession and as a national asset. I contradict myself indirectly but hey...its a complicated thing-human emotion. One minute you hate something and the next you admire it for having something that makes it different.)

I'm not being a realist when i say this (which i usually am) but i wish we could go back to simpler times when the world wasn't filled with bureaucracy-with the miasma of bullshit that we have to live through as individuals and a community in the present. Its cool that advancements have been made that make our lives easier but come to think of it we really don't need the world to be a stressful place anymore(like, duh!) and all these things achieve is to make life more compicated.

So go back to the previous centuries?
NO! Women were the criticised in the manner of scolding a child for thinking they could be as equals to man, our country had its battles, the world had its many wars, free thinking was a myth, religeon was the devil in a white, saffron or black robed disguise, and there was general chaos and anarchy beneath a hastily contructed veil of 'order'.

So i come to the end with the thought that we were so much better off as apes. Have you seen Planet of the Apes? The gruesome things we do could be so much more justifiable if we were just a bunch of wild primates who didn't feel silly emotions like guilt or insecurity. We'd be blissfully unaware. We'd be happy at least.

I sum up with a poem i penned down recently.

Yet Another Trench

As if hunger hasn't plagued,
many a concave stomach

As if the Gods haven't converged,
and fought us as one

As if rancour hasn't invaded,
delicate hearts and minds

As if longing hasn't bathed,
our souls in a terrible light

As if our will hasn't been broken,
and smashed into smithereens

As if the world hasn't become,
half of what it used to be.

We surge forward to battle
each other to the death
only to inflict torture,
to make each other horribly

Wednesday, 15 August 2007

They're here.

I know whats happening when:

The walls begin to close in. The ceiling sings a nasty Basckstreet Boys song as it lowers to crush me.
The windows become tinier and tinier, blocking out all light and sound(except that goddamn song)
My friends vanish.
Nothing is a comfort.
And all in all I have the overpowering need to ESCAPE!

Oh god, the exams are here.


Thursday, 9 August 2007


Im going here someday.

Wednesday, 1 August 2007

Crisis Stations!!

Have you ever noticed how different people react so very differently in times of crisis. Its fun to just observe the different methods through which they decide to handle the situation.

For instance, some people like to very categorically give a summary of the problem and then leave their dreaded proclamation hanging in the air to be digested by the rest involved. For eg
"We're stuck in a burning car and we're going at 80 kmph. There's no way we can jump out. So we have a choice between burning to death or hitting the asphalt at 80 kmph. *looks pompous as pandemonium/silence follows, depending on the crowd*

Some people like to look scared and turn to others for assistance. For eg
*looks at growing flames and says* "WhatdowedonowWhatdowedonow?" *lower lip trembles*

Then there are those who genuinely believe they're helping but are actually bunging it all up even further. They truly don't mean any harm but end up causing much more chaos than they would have wanted to. For eg
*says* "Here, let me help you!" reaches over and unlatches car door allowing person to fall out and hit asphalt at 80kmph. "Well! Thats a brave chap! I can't see myself doing that!"
I don't think there is the perfect person to be in a crisis. To put it crudely every dog has its day. So even the timid person could see something obvious that the the bold and blustrous(is that a word??) overlooked.

*looks meek while saying it* "just slow down dude."
*blunders forward while saying* There's a fire extinguisher attached to the windscreen! Let me!! *cut to three seconds later-everyone is covered in white foam*

Tuesday, 31 July 2007

Once Upon a Blog

  • Once upon a blog i was actually funny. The funny bone has left. It packed its tiny polka dotted hanky, tied it to a stick, blew a raspberry in my face and tottered off down the road to never-lay-eyes-on-me-again-land.

Once upon a blog i wanted to update this here page every single day. I had to force myself to do it today.

  • Once upon a blog there were four. Now they're three.

Once upon a blog i could write about sheep and make people laugh. Uh, I'm a little glad thats over.

  • Once upon a blog i had no aspirations but only needs. Glad that's changed.

Once upon a blog i was content, now i'm not. I'm drained. Its a phase i hope it'll pass soon.

An update is an update. I hope the template is well recieved. Until next time.

Monday, 25 June 2007

Luurrve Is In The Air

I am truly not ashamed when i say this. I have now garnered an unusually drastic interest in novels that have a theme that is predominantly romantic. Yes, i, Shar have begun to like romantic novels. *whiny tone* They're fun to read yaaaa. Especially when i have nothing to do and want to have the right to say "I finished two books yesterday!"(each about sixty pages)
But on a more serious note, I READ ROMANTIC NOVELS! shoot me. The ones i read have a little more brains. And more importantly a plot.
Now here are a few pointers for people who haven't read any romantic novels and also for those sneaky underhanded freaks who have most definitely read at least one romantic novel but feign amnesia in front of the ever judging eyes of society. Well I'm not afraid, i say! *quivers under blanky while raising a righteous finger * Here goes.

1. The protagonists are so hot that its a wonder they haven't been scooped up by some American or European equivalent of Prasad Bidappa and stuck in front of a camera post haste.
2. The Girl pretends to be domineering and completely immmune to anybody else's advances but is actually a very kind, soft hearted person who loves puppies and can't get enough of moonlit walks and candle lit dinners. She is emotionally scarred from a previous relationship. (Thats obvious you dumb tart)
3. The Guy is rugged, tough and has biceps that can rival King Kong's but he has a soft side to him that will make you feel nauseous and then some. He has had a million women, possibly from and on different continents but the Girl just makes him wanna rip her clothes off. (Don't ask me how that makes her different from the other girls.)
4. Guy and Girl get off to a not-so-good start. They have a small spat in the beginning that is smoothed over when they find that their inimitable attraction to each other makes magnets seem foolish and really not that great a phenomenon of nature. (Screw the North and South poles)
5. Very important event that occurs within the first one-fourth of the novel is The Kiss (believe me it requires the capitals). Preliminary Salivatory Exchange (A phenomenon i like to call PSE or spit-swap) has them knowing in the back of their empty heads (and yours) that they are made for each other. (But who in tarnation likes making things easy?)
6. The rest of the novel is spent in flirting, fighting and spit swapping alternately while the two grow closer and closer (like yucky fungi) and then the clincher is The Misunderstanding (again, well awarded capitols) that makes each of the two dunderheads think one of the other is actually not in love with them and that they actually like wasting their time and breath on loser idiots who don't interest them in the first place.*takes deep breath*
7. But then, The Misunderstanding is given a beating and the two, Guy and Girl, come together to make wild passionate love and live happily ever after for the rest of their lives, in their beautiful six bedroom house. (complete with garden and fountain and back yard)

Stick a needle in me, i think i got diabetes.

Tuesday, 19 June 2007

Yet Another List

Ok, i have seriously taken to writing these lists. They're fun (for me) and i can let my imagination run wild. Not that i hold back otherwise..

THINGS TO DO IN THE LOO (and it rhymes just pure genius.)

  1. Spike your hair with shampoo and/or soap and sing Gareth Gates songs. (The dude has serious hair issues)
  2. Steam up the mirror and write "I'm sure i saw what you did last summer but it so doesn't compare to what you did the summer before that."
  3. See if 'bouncing off the walls' really is possible. (Avoid this step in small bathrooms)
  4. Dance around naked singing "I'm a slave for you" complete with Britney steps.
  5. Leave the door open.

Wednesday, 13 June 2007

List it

I have taken inspiration from another blog and i have made a list of things to do..i am painfully aware of the fact that this idea isn't mine so don't remind me if you care for your life. goes!

  1. Look for hidden fee receipt that can make or break your second year in college.
  2. Try to draw from memory the emblem of the your college.
  3. Add insane posts to your blog that don't even make sense.
  4. Twiddle your thumbs.
  5. Watch T.V.
  6. Twiddle your thumbs while watching T.V
  7. Setup a meeting with a friend and then at the restaurant sit at another table and ignore them completely. Everytime they try and talk to you say politely "Excuse me. I'm expecting someone."
  8. Burp loudly and then, when you can see someone within earshot, say "Oh My God! I ate that days ago!"
  9. Cough like a mad person and when someone pats you on the back kindly, turn on them and shout in their face "Can't you see I'm BUSY?"
  10. Convince someone that going for a five act mono act by an eighty year old man will be fun. Buy them tickets. Say you'll mee them there. Don't turn up.
  11. Make a list.

Saturday, 9 June 2007

Birthday blog

I had written a post at twelve at night on June 7. Small problem. I forgot to post it. So here it is!

Its myyy birrthhhdaayy!
And this midnight post is dedicated to.....ahem.....none other than......ME!
*wipes tear from corner of eye* "This means SO much to me! Its such an honour and having this honour is so honourable that it honours the ass out of other honourable things that people have ever honoured me with. Sigh."
Now away with the insanity and to more sane one sided conversation.
Birthdays are just the funnest things! People can't scream at you. They can't yell, gesticulate, make hand gestures, speak rudely or argue with you. They just have to put up with all the...ahem..."attributes" that define you as a person. Now, all my birthdays have pretty much been days of fun, frolic and otherworldly displays of affection (don't ask). So this year, I've decided to out down some things as guidelines for all things birthday related, not necessarily applicable to me. (Hell yea!)

1. The GOLDEN RULE is that however insufferable the person is (my friends will be nodding their heads here) you just GOTTA suck it up and be nice to em! Come hell or high handed five player poker.

2. The next rule is that a kiss and a hug does NOT, i repeat, does NOT, count as a birthday gift in this galxy or the next. If you're gettin someone (me) a card, get a gift to go with it for chrissake.

3. Next, if you have any inkling about how old the person is, even a vague flying clue about which decade they have entered, don't ask how old they are. Unless, that is, if you have a death wish or actually are that dumb.

4. My favourite! MY birthday without cake is like tweety without silvestor, just another talkin bird, full of herself. The cake numbs the talk ya see. (I'm in metaphor hell, so shoot me!)

5 You absolutely HAVE to address me with the prefix, Your Highness, at all times. It would only seem the right thing to do.

6. Read carefully ma darlins, none of the above matters if you reaaalllllyyyy lurrrvvvee me! MWA!

Sunday, 3 June 2007

Aerosmith in India!

I went to the Aerosmith concert! Not only my first concert in Bangalore but my first EVER! It was real fun!
(Gettin there deserves another story altogether so i won't add that here)
It was quite a nice experience. I mean, who gets to stand in the middle of a stinking crowd(I dont mean that metaphorically, i mmean reaaallyy stinky and i shamelessly agree that after an hour we were adding to the stench) for two hours while waiting for the band ta grace us with their presence. There was wild cussing (most of it by our group) and there was crappy joke cracking(all of it by our group) and then there were people trying to squeeze past. Don't ask me where. We were packed like sardines! I mean, you dint have to make an effort to stand, you just had to stand! And wouldn't you believe it, i had the time of my life! That is, of course, untill the claustrophia and the furnace like heat was just unbareable. We left and took refuge near one of the huge speakers. And it was better there! We had the benefit of the two speakers and huge screens plus a view of the stage. We came out on top in the end.
Aerosmith was just the best. I could see how talented the guys were and how little effort they had to put in to entertain the masses. Their music was just fantastic. Tyler was just amzing and i couldn't believe that the guy is actually ancient! Bit cliche but the first song was Sweet Taste of India.
Perry seemed a bit obsessed with Vindaloo and incense but he changed his tune later and said that what he really loved India for was the Kama Sutra. How honoured we are.
Another thing that comes to mind is that foreigners come to India with such pre conceptions in their heads. Its disgusting. We're people too for heaven's sake! The other day me n Sangi were going somewhere on my bikey and we passed these two cops trying to usher two dumb looking cows off the road. (They had duh expressions on their face and were looking at the cops like they were aliens but never forgetting to chew cud at the same time.) Now thats surprising, seeing cows on mg road! So we laughed and we were just about to turn away when we saw these two foreigners lurking around a few feet away with their eyes wide open and (unfortunately) with a camera in their hands. They were clicking away like mad things and that just took the cake as the cows became confused and decided that they liked having their picture taken after all, adding further to the humiliation our country would face when the foregners would go home and show their children and grandchildren high quality photos of portly policeman ushering cows off the main road in a metropolitan Indian city.
"Where's that grandma?" says cute ten year old.
"Oh honey, thats Bangaloooree in Indiar. They have things like that happening all the time! Quite fascinating isn't it?" says ignorant grandma.
Methinks cameras should be banned but then, word of mouth is worse.

Friday, 1 June 2007

I went to a party. And not just any party (my utter lack of luck helped me here.)A page three party! dripping with sarcasm Yes I was thrilled, salivating, making strange practice-air-kisses and what not. “I get to meet ALL the airheads in Bangalore in one go!” was what I was thinking.
Anyway, I was yawning way before I got there thanks to a busy day at work and when I got there I yawned in the bouncer’s face while telling him what newspaper I was from. He didn’t appreciate it, I think. When I finally got my jaw back under my control, and told him the newspaper, he did a little sneer thing at me that made me want to hit his meaty face but then Om, my photographer, decided to step in and give the SOB a hug. “What are you doing?” I whispered ferociously at his traitorous act.
“I know him ya.” He said with a toothy smile.
I didn’t give a shit.
I glared at him while walking forward and tripped into the elevator. Luckily the doors closed before I could turn around.
I then had to follow him around like a little lost puppy dog as he went around hugging and high-fiving people at the party. (Big deal. I know people. Did you hear about the time I spoke to Arbaaz Khan? Ha!)
Om is actually very sweet. Anger wasn’t directed at him as such, just general.
I met a lot of people and at one point a girl came towards me while saying “Oh DAHHLING! There you are!” and then enveloped me in a bear hug. I smelled her and retched at her breast. I pulled away while smiling weakly at her. She saw my face and said “Oh” as if she just realized her lip gloss and smudged and not that she had hugged an absolute stranger. (terrified stranger as well)
Anyway, when Om was done with his rounds he told me to go to the bar. I thought this was his way of getting rid of my puppy dog expression with I’m-drunk-and-loving-it expression. That worked. NOT
I was still morose but managed to get the bar tender on my side. His name was Don and he was quite nice. But my respect for him plummeted when I asked for his ‘special’ and he gave me a vodka and sprite. Yuck…sissy drink.
I waited and waited and finally the thing happened….the unveiling of the three finalists for Get Gorgeous. PB was utterly gay. Who says things like “Call her bubbles darling! Everybody does!” Oh my God!! I felt like puking right there and then. But I contained myself and managed to smile dyspeptically and nod.
Then it was over, and I could breathe because the mass of ‘smelly’ people had dispersed and had gone to do whatever it is that they do at parties. Page three parties. Not for me.

Tuesday, 22 May 2007

ArrrrBaaz and the Rest

Went to Java City on Sunday. From work. Sat there and it wasn't the same. Kristofer was there. (Birdie is in the northern half of the country right now.) Kush was there. And a few other people I didn't know. Maybe i was tired. Kush was tryin to keep the mood up. (He even broke into song at one point. I gave him such a horrified expression that the poor thing stopped abruptly) Max was banging away on his percussion contraptions and all i could do was give a weak nod. (sad, sad) Even La Bamba couldn't wrench me out of my stupour. Well whatever it was, it went away the next day. (Thank the God of Grumbles!)
Work was fun that day. I had NOTHING to do (not that i was complaining.) I was actually pretending to do some ground breaking journalistic stuff(poetbay and orkut) when Poetyes called me to her ummmm....lets say cubicle for lack of any better alternative...and she told me to call Arbaaz Khan!( Black Buck killer's brother) Since it was my first brush with fame(after my meeting with Rahul Dravid, that is) I was skipping around the place squealing "I'm gonna interview Arbaaz Khan!" and irritating everybody. Only later did i realize that it wasn't such a huge thing. Who knew? Didn't Arbaaz Khan save the world sometime recent?? I think he did.
Anyway, I spoke to the man. He was sweet and everything. I forgot to ask him half the stuff and fabricated the rest in the article (DISCLAIMER: I most certainly DID not!)
I spent half of today talking to the people at LCI in Bangalore. Laughter Club International. I managed not to laugh even once. (How hard is it to tell a joke now and then.)

On a completely different note, i have a new joke! It goes;

"How do you know you're a pirate?"
"Ya just arrrrrrr!"

hahahahaha. If you're not rolling on the floor with laughter then get yourself checked out. I told this joke to millions of people and TWO of them laughed(Mangi and Kristofer). You're the abnormal ones :D
Signing off on a happy note....ciao u lot!

Saturday, 19 May 2007

Fully Funtional Phones

I forgot to write a post about my new phone! My dad got me one when my nokia something-or the-other decided to go blank in the screen area. (I'd dropped the phone about a million times but the two incidents are hardly related, are they?) anyway, about the new phone, its a Samsing something-or-the-other. And its fun!

I have new ringtones after ages. Right now its Pink Floyd.
I have cute pictures of fuzzy little animals and my niece too! (the two are not in the same category)
I have games that my cousin has mastered. I have passwords for my inbox.
I have a way to keep track of time now! (Don't ask me how i managed before. I got quite used to asking vague people on the street the time)

And one huge plus point-I CAN SEE THE SCREEN!!!
Here's to fully funtional phones; for now.


Things that have changed recently:

I'm not the newest intern!!! YAY! *does hip tango*(Its contagious Noopur! Go ta hell 'Boy')

Writing poetry is coming back! Just couldn't write something meaningful for sometime! But I'm back baby! Poetbay doesn't know what hit it!

I can now multi task too....listen to music and write poetry. *yet another hip tango*

Dad left today :( but, no worries, he's coming back on 5th of June (three days before my birthday)

New songs have been downloaded. Hinder songs, What goes around, Bless the broken road, Cupid's Chokehold.

Have finally gotten the knack of driving something with four wheels.

Tuesday, 8 May 2007

A Rare Moment

I'm pretending to work but am actually here, at my favourite place on Earth. I haven't had lunch. I've been working since 11 in the morning and I just finished. You cannot believe how relieved i am. I want to hold on to this feeling forever!!! (seldom does it come my way)

Now about the recent 'boy' issue-:
*the following said with intense sarcasm*-I'm so happy that my guestbook has becomen a pseudo battlefield for dum'boy' vs the rest. It jus gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside to know that my blog gives reason for people to hate each other.
But don't stop commenting please! I love love love it! I would write more about you writing about my blog (I would write more sense if i had some food in me) but if i don't go and eat lunch NOW i may just collapse. ciao munchkins!

'Boy' still not welcome. Bugger orf!

Friday, 4 May 2007

Another boy bites the dust...


My guest book has two comments now. One from the beautiful, one-chocolate-richer Kristofer and the other one from 'boy' who is evidently a depraved, tasteless....uhhhh....boy(?). Fortunately i don't give a rat's ass about what he thinks.

(His exact comment: "Why in Ayn Rand's name would anyone visit this blog twice ?
Btw that name is only for me to address myself."

Whatever that means!)

Since boy wonder must think its very intelligent to say the name Ayn Rand and still not know whether its a woman or a man, I thought I'd give a small intro to one of the greatest writers ever! I've read Atlas shrugged. There's something very haunting about it and you get it only if you've read it at least twice. I love how it all falls into place the second time. And even though its supposed to dapple in the complex world of philosophy I didn't experience the stigma of boredom usually associated with philosophy and its derivatives.
And adhering to a statement earlier I really do not give a rat's ass ( as this post has clearly demonstrated. Hahahaha)
Begone cursed 'boy'. Thou art not welcome anyway.
Ciao! :)

Wednesday, 2 May 2007

It Doesn't Bite I swear

This is a short and informative post to let you know about the purpose and nature of my guestbook. First off signing the guestbook is mandatory! I mean, how much time does it take out of your life? A minute, mebbe two? It isn't in the least bit ferocious (Don't ask me about some of the stories I've heard). It doesn't bite, has no taste for human flesh (I've heard that's an acquired taste) and it doesn't point out how silly your message is (which, face it ,it is) Its friendly. I promise. Try it! First person ta write in my esteemed (and friendly) guest book gets a chocolate. (A real musty old one thats been lying in my cupbopard for a year. I'm a hoarder remember?)
Ciao munchkins!

Gubai Lethargy

I'm starting my internship today!! I can't wait! I've been moping around the house making life hell for me n ma family. For once in a long time I had absolutely NO assignments or tests! I went into laziness mode and haven't surfaced from it for a week and a half! At least some good things have come out of it:

  1. I've read six books full blown novels. (The intelligent ones not the crappy ones. *did neone say m n b's?)
  2. I mastered the art of staring into space for prolonged periods of time without passing out or without appearing to be passed out.
  3. I have never eaten so much in my entire life!!!
  4. I don't think i remember how to write.
  5. I have added numerous dimensions to the art of surfin the net
  6. I am officially a couch potato (I know the TV schedule by heart. Whats that? "When does ER come on?" TUESDAYS @ 10 and then the repeat is at 10 in the morning the next day.)
  7. I learnt that if you walk real slow them people don't really ask you to do stuff.
  8. I learnt that it is only when you really wanna iron your clothes and go out after AGES that the power goes kaput.
  9. I've learnt that it is possible to sleep from 11 @ nite and get up at 6 a.m only to go back to sleep at 8:30 and get up at 3:30 p.m. (This I'm proud of)
  10. And finally, it has come to my notice that I am destined never to successfully drive anything more than a two wheeler.


Tuesday, 1 May 2007

Traveller Monologue

The Vast Machine…We just have to escape it! Or we’ll be sucked into its ‘safe’ clutches…never living off the grid again-never escaping its so called safety. I’ve thought about it and I don’t think it’s too advanced here. I pity people in the U.S, the U.K and other developed countries. I mean at least here our ‘leaders’ have stuff to deal with that have a higher priority level than keeping tabs on the general populace. It’s scary-the thought of how completely they could control us or are controlling us. Subliminal messages, hypnosis---things of the past.

Now it’s just straight and simple. Keep watch-any inconsistencies displayed by a drone or a citizen and it shall be dealt with. There’s no way to escape it unless you’re a Traveller or the even more dangerous Harlequin. But then there’s no chance for respite either. Always on the run...looking over your shoulder..wondering.

The idea that we could be watched and kept tabs on-photographed twenty times a day-if not at home then when we’re shopping or withdrawing money or just taking a walk down the street is just disturbing. To most people at least. JTH says that some people justify it by saying “They know what’s best for us” or “It’s a bad world” but what kind of beings would we become if the only true thing that makes us Human Beings is taken away from us. Our Free Will.

I know this post is a bit vague and abrupt. But you’ll only completely understand it if you read The Traveller by John Twelve
Hawks. Read it!

Monday, 30 April 2007

Four Wheel Frenzy

Me at the driving school inUdhampur..I was pretty good then. (Who isn't in a friggin parkin lot?)
I'm learning how to drive. A car. And isn't friggin easy! I've been dying to learn how to drive and my wish was granted in the form of the Maruti Driving School. After seventy four thousand theory classes, half of which i slept through,(6:30 in the friggin morning) I finally got behind the wheel. The first class was just a breeze. I was driving on a smooth road in a figure of eight. Downshifting, steering and clutching like a friggin pro. The inspector was pleased, i was pleased....evbuddy was happy....sigh...those were the days!

The second class was with another instructor. I managed to amuse him with a few of my witty jokes and comments (Yes, i have some) and I'd like to think that because of my witticism I was instructed to drive on the roads. (albeit, it was at 6 40 in the morning) He was directing me and telling me what to do and it kinda got irritating after a certain point. I wanted ta rev the engine and zip around turns on two wheels and everything else fun! (In a Wagon R) He told me to stick to second gear for now. (Between 15 and 20 kmph. Might as well have ridden a horse) Then comes the part where i completely lose what he's saying.

"Aaalweiys stei to tha left bhut dhon't phorget to steer to left or riet when you see a pathhole."

Eh?? I froze for a second...pathhole? whazzat? Sounded like something outta Alison in Wonderland.Was this man some kind of follower or something? Mebbe i reminded him of Alison. I suddenly pictured myself jumping down a path/rabbithole and laughed out loud. He stared at me for a few seconds and decided that i was enjoying fourth gear too much. "Brake it. Brake it" he said insistently,"Second, second now" and we returned to 2 kmph.

The third tutorial was with the same man and he didn't seem too pleased with me(who can not be pleased with me??) so i repaid him by sniggering everytime he said 'pathhole' which btw stands for pot-hole. He got the last laugh. As we approached the driving school he suddenly decided (sneaky devil) that it was time i learnt how to take a u-turn. I dreaded the moment. Anyway he made me go into first and slow down to a snail's pace near the u-turn. I was just preparing to turn when a car (A reva) coming from the opposite direction also decided to take a u-turn, and ass that he was, wanted to make the turn before me. I, of course didn't know that at the time and began to make the turn. I saw him turning as well and I froze like a hunka meat in the freezer. The intsructor noticed and said "Clutch and Brake!" I screamed and clutched and accelerated. Thank God for the clutch and brake on his side. The Reva made a hasty exit with a sneaky suspicion that he had just narrowly missed a collision. When i had regained my breath and made sure my heart rate wasn't irregular anymore i made the turn and slunk back home with my tail between my legs. I hate cars...for now.

Small doofus mistake made by author and pointed out by Kristofer the Korrector. It isn't Alison in Wonderland. Its Alice. Yes, i make mistakes too. :P Thank you Kris! :)

Saturday, 21 April 2007

The Two Toms

I'm officially in love! With two Toms....Tom Holt and Tom Sharpe. Sigh...their books are just fabulous! Recently hooked I've become a devout follower(If you see anybody running down Brigades screaming "I love you Toms!" its probably me) and cannot put their books down! I bought three the other day (much to Birdie's disdain) and skipped the entire way home (A bit difficult considering I was on a two wheeler) I haven't been this obssessed since that small affair with Matthew Reilley....or Gone With The Wind (sigh..but the sequel is like any other crappy sequel) and who can forget the amazing Terry Pratchitt...I think i've had enough of blogging for now...i have to read my books today!! Today Today!! c ya..

Sunday, 15 April 2007

Feng Hoo?

I'm such a collector! I know very well thats just a polite way of saying 'Hoarder of Junk'. I have the new, the old, the nostalgic, the forgotten, the misplaced-all memorablia hidden away-piling up from my 18 years on Earth. They're in some way important to me. They may seem utterly useless but they have one purpose in my life. To remind me of the good times. I know you may say that the brain is better than any memory box (Junk box) you'll ever keep-with its endless space and cognitive func.....blah blah blah blah. But I need my memory to be gently nudged to a dusty old corner of the archives in my brain that it hasn't been to in a while. It makes me feel-without sounding too cliche-warm inside. (Whoever came up with that phrase is feelin it if you get my drift.)
I don't care what Feng Shui says. I like my 'junk'(Do not confuse with dirty BEP song...yuck) Its pulled me through dark days and I will pull it through my life till i decide that leaving it behind is imperative, even if that means accumulating enough junk to fill the Bay of Bengal till the time comes to part with it. Here ends my little thought. Ciao munchkins!

Wells dry up for heaven's sake

"Sharanya! Hey write me a poem yaar! Here's the pen and paper and everything!"
I stared at the human who had dared disturb my silent appraisal of the sky. I became completely transfixed, noticing flaws that weren't there before.
I looked at her and then the pen and the measly scrap of paper in her hand that she erringly had referred to as 'everything'. She looked a little like a lost puppy dog-forlorn and hopeful at the same time.
"What?" I managed to mutter.
"I heard from ***** that you write poetry! C'mon man!"
Apparently she was gender confused as well.
I held my breath to avoid making her the subject of an outburst she probably didn't deserve. I stayed still hoping that if i did she would stop seeing me. It jus barely managed to work-the first i mean-not the second.
She was still looking at me(It occurred to me that she could be looking through me but I'd resigned myself to my fate a second later). I wondered if she had blinked, or even moved in the last five minutes. I decided that she hadn't. I tussled with two unequally appealing options-telling her to buzz off and never bother me with creative requests again or write her a poem and be done with it. She was still looking at me.
When she looked like she would collapse from exhaustion I took the stationery from her shivering hands, grumbling silently, with a half smile on my face. I stared at it for a while. Nice time for my 'endless well of creativity' to dry up. I was tempted to tell her that my three year old cousin would be a better bet right now.
I finally put pen to paper and was silently congratulating myself when she chirped somewhere near my left cochlea-"What'reyouwriting?"
Refraining to state the obvious I looked at her for a minute then looked down. Damn-the pen had lifted-I'd have to start all over again.
Needless to say-or is it?- I survived. I did manage to write her a poem-the work I'm most ashamed of to date. She seemed quite pleased(It had her name in it) and it made me a better person, at least in her eyes. Alls well that ends well! Ciao for now! I have things to do-write bad poetry for one.

It Wasn’t My Fault (Another Long Overdue Post)

This so deserves an entry of its own! (plus I want my blog to have more entries)
So I’m with my friends in this place called Java Green (Horrendous, yucky place!) and we decide to have a cup of coffee (mistake of a lifetime). What I ordered turned out to be a cup of diluted mud. The seats were uncomfortable and to quote Meredith Grey-“I had a feeling.” I ridiculed the coffee (Oh boy, was I gonna pay for that) with Munch and gave up trying to drink it.
Osh’s phone decided to ring. Her ring tone is a baby laughing. Those of you, who are saying “Awwww” or some equivalent, stop yourselves. It is, in one word, CREEPY! No, I don’t hate babies. And no I did not have a difficult childhood. (Not all that difficult anyway) But the ring tone makes a shiver run up your spine.

Anyway, it began to ring, and Good Samaritan that I am; I reached over and passed Osh her bag. And it was then that my hands acquired a mind of their own. (I suspect they were co-conspirators with the coffee. Investigations are on-going so I can’t say much) On the way back they spilled the entire cup of coffee on my unsuspecting lap. I was shell-shocked for a minute. Couldn’t move, couldn’t think and certainly couldn’t get up and shake, no pour, the coffee off. (Did I mention the entire cup of coffee fell on my lap?) I finally got up, and the coffee flowed off my lap like miniature Niagara Falls, managing to make a mess of myself and the nice hardwood floors of the coffee shop. (Yous should have seen the look on the face of the employees. I don’t care. I hate that place with a vengeance now.) And then I just stood there, recapping the incident in my mind’s eye. It was something like this;

3:05:39 Entered godforsaken shop

3:10:14 Ordered cup of diluted mud

3:12:20 Gave up trying to drink coffee

3:12:46 Ridiculed diluted mud

3:13:05 Attack of the Horrendous Vengeful Coffee

My friends finally managed to drag me away from the dastardly place to a nearby restroom. (My jeans looked like I had peed in them). What happened inside is even funnier. (For you anyway)
I took about a ton of tissue and wet it then vigorously rubbed the affected area. (My jeans looked like I had peed in them!) I just made a huger mess of it. In the end, I had to remove my jeans and hand it to Osh and Munch. Then I skulked behind one of the toilet doors, half naked, as they patiently dried it in front of the malfunctioning hand dryer. Try n beat that! Ha! *clasps hands together and shakes them first over left and then right shoulder*

Vishu a Happy Vishu (Corny, I know)

I was reading a column about the seasons and how to recognize their onset. It made me aware of the respect I have for all things natural. I know I may sound like any old fanatic, crazed, all organic, tree hugger but I’m not. I like the good things in life (boy are there a lot of them!) Let me mention that the ‘good things in life’ are either immoral, illegal, fattening or against nature.

Anyway, theres something that can turn me into a tree hugger-a perfect morning. A perfect morning is when you get up and you’re wide awake. No sleepy, lethargic Shar, stumbling around half asleep and cursing all chirpy things within sight or hearing. You’re wide awake and guess what? The weathers perfect-just the right amount of chill factor with a light breeze to carry it forward every now and then. All this after a horrendous two months of sweating like you’re in a perpetual sauna. The cool air hits your face and you don’t shiver. You don’t reach for a wrap. You just let it caress your cheek and it cruelly leaves you hungering for more. I was magnetically drawn towards the window where I stood stock-still, just enjoying the weather until my grandmother got worried at my sudden immobility. There was a light feeling of anticipation as I opened the door, slowly, lest any sudden movements should scare it away. It crept into the house and I sighed. Perfect mornings! They’re the best! Oh and by the way Happy Vishu! Here’s hoping the New Year brings more crap to deal with and more worries to obsess about!!
(If you hope for the worst you’ll never be let down)

A New Day, A New Friend (A long overdue post)

Guess who's my bestest friend in the whole world......EMBARRASSMENT!
Today was a particularly good day for me n him. (Forgive me but Embarrassment can be nothing but a guy)
So anyway, I have this habit of climbing up the stairs as though I'm being chased by the devil himself. Going down isn't too different either. I also have the habit of scoffing at my grandmom when she tells me to be careful. "I'm untouchable!" i say with a supercilious smile and an irritating wink before I bumble up/down the stairs.
Now this morning I was moping up the stairs, utterly sleepy and cursing the world in general and then it happened. I tripped...on the very last step... my little toe did it! (That darned thing-its given me enough trouble as it is). I was sprawled on the floor near the stairs (I contemplated just going to sleep right there) and my grandmom appeared outta nowhere! (She does that sometimes. I think its an ability all adults have...especially at the wrong time). I got up all too quickly and decided to pretend i meant to fall flat on my face -just to entertain her. (It was seven in the morning, i was sleepy-it was the best i could come up with) She looked doubtfully at me and then at the spot i had been prostrate on a few seconds ago. I put my arm around her affectionately and guided her, firmly, away from the incriminating evidence (I think i saw a little bit of blood besides the fact that my little toe hurt like a *****) and towards the dining room while trying not to limp.
I decided that even though the day had begun badly i would, as people say, ‘take it in my stride’. (Remind me to kill the know-it-alls)
So despite all this I was in a good mood as I left the house-all happy and expectant. I was going for a movie with my friends-The Ghost Rider. *makes pukey face* (Don't even think about watching it!)
On my way to the theatre (I drive a 67 cc Kinetic Zing-don't you dare laugh) I was, of course, slowed by three traffic lights. At the last one, while i was waiting with my engine turned off, i felt my right thigh vibrate. I had recieved a message on my cell! I looked at the traffic light-then at my jeans-wondering if i should leave the message for later. But the little red devil on my right shoulder took over and i took my phone out and quickly punched away at the keypad. I was pulled out of my activity when I saw that I had three seconds before the light turned green! I abandoned typing at my cell and attempted to shove it back into my pocket while starting my bike…ahem…two-wheeler. I failed. By this time the traffic behind me was about a minute away from getting off or out of their respective vehicles and smashing the living daylights out of me! To add to the mess, my cell fell out of my shivering hand. It was ugly. But I made it past the traffic light without a scratch on me! (You should be saying something like “Good on you mate!” preferably in an Aussie accent)

Here's to still being alive! Cheers!

Saturday, 14 April 2007

Impedimentia and the Innevitibilitia

Hello my lovely fellow humans!
By now you must know or might have guessed that i'm in an aceptably good mood. Thank god for small mercies! For the past three weeks (!) i have been trying in vain to sign into my account at blogger to add to the meager amount of posts here. It has been a very irritating endeavour! My own computer's screen is, in one word, screwed! So i have to resort to going downstairs for my internet needs. It seems that the downstairs computer aka DC knows how important this blog is to me so it refuses to let me sign in. It laughs in my face as I wait patiently for the page to load. I tried various sneaky and underhanded tactics but nothing, i say, NOTHING would work! After the first forty attempts i gave up my dream of maintaining a blog and cried in a corner for a bit, resigned to the fact that the entries i had so carefully typed up on the computer would go to waste (All that creativity!!!) But it seems i have found a way to skip dealing with misbehaving computers and monitors-my cousin's laptop!! I'm typing away with uncontained glee! I hope this gets posted else i think my head would be devoid of any hair-now or ever. But then-whatever happens, happens for a reason.
I'm going to divulge a bit from the topic of my worries and state that I think this particular saying is especially meant for the lazy man. It immensely irritates me to think that there are some people in the world who would give up easily, would attribute major events in their lives to something that would have happened whether they liked it or not. NO! Things happen as a result of actions-ours or even someone we don't know. I think its lazy and cynical to think that bad things are meant to happen. Yes, they're likely to happen but not meant to! The forces of the universe do not decide what will happen when-i think they're as unaware as we are of the future! Things are made up as we go along-consequences of our actions. Not some unseen force-karma-sheesh! I believe in the power of humans and their actions. So sue me.

Saturday, 24 March 2007

Getting Lost

Its one of my favorite activities-especially on the way to an important event. I’d be humming a little tune (inside my stiflingly hot helmet) and not paying the least bit of attention to the road I’m on and then (a kilometer past the turning I’m supposed to take) I’d suddenly come to my senses and utter a little scream inside my helmet (managing to mist up the glass-adding to my already mounting troubles)

PLAN A then comes into play:

I talk to myself (inside the helmet-so I don’t look completely crazy) and calm myself down.
“So what if I missed the turning? I’ll just take the next right. That should undo the wrong!”
I begin to hum again and wait patiently for the next turning while trying to figure out which part of town I’m in (in vain). A kilometer goes by, and another, and another.
I cleverly zip in and out of traffic for a while before I realize that I’ve run out of road! And of right turns. A dreaded dead-end-T-junction(whatyoucallit) creeps closer.
“So what? I’ll just take a u-turn and go back the way I came! Yes! That’s what I shall do.”
Of course, u-turns are strictly prohibited as says the (barely) round sign. I would have risked breaking the law had it not been for the rotund 'traffic policeman' standing right next to the sign-establishing the belief in my head that the world truly does hate me and that I wasn't imagining it all. I curse (inside the helmet) as I'm forced to turn right. As i turn i scream at a passing auto "***********uram?"(the name says it all-now you know why i got lost in the first place) He gestures vauguely in the direction we are headed and I'm reassured.(Silly me)

I sit up a little straighter, overjoyed and proud at my navigational skills (do not laugh I say!) I zip past people, smirking at their misfortune of not knowing me. Still in my conceited state, I manage to spot a right turn (now a left) I hadn’t spotted before and continue to smirk as I negotiate the turn smoothly. I’m still smirking as I sail past a residential area, past kids playing in the street (narrowly missing a few), past people taking an evening stroll.
My smirk begins to fade now. I still don’t know where the hell I am. And the place I’m in is bloody deserted. Not even a single soul in sight. (The children have retreated indoors after they hear me approaching.)

PLAN B comes to the rescue!
I decide to ask the next person I see. And the winner is-
I spot two unsuspecting people having a conversation by the side of the road (unfortunate blokes!) and zoom up to them, coming to a squealing stop a few inches from one of them.
They look at me like I’m something from another world and one of them looks around furtively, as though for some kind of protection.
I grin and ask them “Can you please tell me how I can get to **********uram?”
“well, you just gotta go back the way you came and take a left, then a right and when you hit the main road take a left. Ask someone from there.” He says, a little relieved at the prospect of getting me off his back.
I continue to look at him, trying to comprehend what he said while coming to the conclusion that the man is ****ing crazy! How could I possibly follow all that?
Careful not to change my expression, I nod and smile.
“Thanks so much!” I say, sounding confident. I give him a little wave and take a u-turn (yet again) He musta bin confused when I took the nearest right.

Getting lost-it’s not an easy task and it certainly isn’t for the weak of heart. Trust me-I would know.

Saturday, 17 March 2007

The Poor Poor Sheep

Have you ever tried counting sheep when you can't sleep? You have, haven't you? Well i have too. I was just lying in bed...i couldn't sleep. I closed my eyes and all i could think about was how i couldn't sleep. The i resorted to this supposed old favourite-counting sheep! The theory behind it is that you get so bored that you eventually fall asleep.(HA!)
Anyway, i began counting sheep. That became boring. So i added a fence.(the green meadow and mountains in the backdrop as well as the little stream were there by default) What harm could that do? Turns out a lot. Once the fence was added i had to incorporate it into the whole charade. So i took advice from one of the sheep-Moe (Surprise, surprise-he's black) and made the sheep jump over the fence neatly before wading accross the stream to reach the green meadow. (just go with it ok) That worked for a while. (for a while) The sheep 'baa-ed' happily, pranced over the fence, then waded accross and then munched contentedly.

*'Baa', prance, wade, chomp. 'Baa', prance, wade, chomp. 'Baa', prance, wade, chomp.*

Then it happened. One of the sheep's hind legs struck the fence as he jumped and he landed with a sick 'crunch', in a pile on the other side mumbling a weak 'baa', trying to get up. But...
Lemme tell you something-Sheep are daft. What followed can only be described as a major pile-up. I'm talking twenty to thirty sheep, and more on the way, happily prancing into the 'baa'ing mess with the first sheep still mumbling broken, weak 'baa's every now and then.
What's worse is that i just couldn't stop myself!! My imagination ran wild and I abandoned my attempt to sleep completely, when my little story ended with Moe reciting lines from the Matrix, happily launching rockets into the ever-growing pile. The rest is too graphic to describe.
Moral: Do NOT imagine anything about sheep. Its dangerous.

Friday, 16 March 2007


The midget is missing. He is number ten on the Interpol's Most Wanted List. Apparently that isn't enough. He is reported to be in hiding with another fugitive(I'm not hinting at anything here) in some mountains North(or was it South) of Afghanistan(or was it Argentina).
His description is---small ruffian-looking, vertically challenged, semi Homo-Sapien with a scruffy beard and a hammer the size of China (as mentioned before). Sometimes answers to the name 'Hagar'.
If spotted please contact nearest Interpol headquarters(I know they're hard to locate. Stop whining) or me because there is a HUGE reward in store for the lucky man/woman/co-conspiring midget. (I'm not saying the reward is really huge, but it ain't small either...unless you compare it with something else...smaller...maybe then. But its not huge-huge...maybe you could say big..not big-big. Something like that anyway. Confused? So was I. Just call in you greedy pigs.)
More updates later.


You have got to try simple word-an amazing solution to being blue....I was wandering (more like stalking) around the house the other day in a fouler-than-foul mood and the leg of my study table chanced upon my little toe. Apparently they didn't get along and the table leg stubbedm my toe, which then caused me to hop around on one foot with the other toe in my hand(I didn't know i was that flexible) for a minute or two. If you're wondering, the table got its due. (My grandmother wondered about the missing appendage for a minute but i craftily distracted her with a magnificent fake tantrum)
Anyway back to my genius discovery-As i was hopping around unflatteringly, I screamed obscenities...and that just made me red in the face and groping for words worse than the ones i already knew and had used. It was then that my first rubbish word escaped my mouth(which was set in an unbecoming sneer at the time. It only added to the beautiful gibberish to follow)-"Snghhhkrch"(said through gritted teeth to add that extra inflection). History, ladies and gentlemen, was made at that moment and I haven't looked back since. Gibberish is now officially my second language (unofficially my first-What would people say!?)
Try it. I assure its as stupid as it sounds. Thats the beauty of it!

Monday, 5 March 2007

Headaches, Midgets and Munch

It's such a strange feeling when you're happy after a long time. Its like meeting a different person-metaphorically speaking(whatever that means). It is also very strange (but not uncommon) when you have a truckload of work to do but you just couldn't be bothered. (just couldn't give a #&*@ #%+!! to be clearer) Listening ta music and adding nonsensical things to your blog, eating copious amounts of ice cream and twiddling yout thumbs become extremly important activities. Seriously! I haven't had such time for myself in so LONG!(my thumbs hurt)
My back hurts (adding to the agony in the thumbs) and don't ask me about my head (i know you won't so i'm gonna tell you without further ado) My head hurts. Tumor bad. The entire left side is pounding! Yet i have to sit three inches away from the computer screen for as long as i can, squint at small print books in bad light and and watch TV avidly. Self pity is the best way to go during times like these. Its a HUGE comfort. Helping yourself is just plain loserish.
College was hilarious today. I got a 'WOW' on my paper from LV. If you're thinking thats a good thing then you're highly mistaken.
Munch had a nice.....uhh lets say-discussion...with Kana in the middle of the staircase with a large crowd being entertained on the sidelines. I managed to sell a few tickets here and there-all in all quite a profit. Osh was too busy cowering in a small puddle of embarassement so I cashed in today!!(haha! my evil plan of taking over the world economy is within reach!)
Stayed with mortified munch for a while, then returned home to wallow in self pity and the splitting headache.
My dad has this interesting theory that having a headache is quite like having a small vindictive barbarian in your head, who just keeps pounding away inside there with grim satisfaction. He has a mallet the size of China and takes great pleasure in thumping you with it. The mallet goes down,the midget goes up, the mallet goes up and the midget goes down, then the mallet goes...oh you get the hang of it-i think. (If you haven't then stop reading my blog)
Me n him (the barbarian) have become quite good friends over our week long companionship. I christened him Hagar-Headache Hagar recently. ( I know the name is taken. Deal with it.) There was a party and everything. I even managed ta sneak a bottle of Champagne in and crash it on his head when he wasn't looking. (Don't worry, he's fine. The stitches are almost completely healed.)
For all my complaining we manage to exchange pleasantries between thumps( he is a busy man-what with all the thumping and all)

Shar: "Hi there hagar! Back again are you?"
Shar: "Oh I'm doing perfect!! Almost can't feel you in there!"
Hagar: "Grunt grunt*"
(Well he's not a conversationalist, not one for small talk, or any kind of talk for that matter but he is a busy man)
That was our last conversation. Will keep you posted. (haha! get it!? "will keep you posted" I crack myself up i tell you!)

Sunday, 4 March 2007

Holy **** its Holi

hello world!
its me! Utterly bored and regretting every minute of this agony..I have been a social recluse for two days now. No that is not what I am agonizing about or what I'm regretting. I have writer's block!!! Thank god i have my blog to write utter muck in! Which is my second favourite activity after lazing around in front of the tv.
The Idiot box has completely taken over my life!! It has I tell you! Today is Holi(The festival of colours) and all i can think of is whether its time for dinner yet (my stupid cellphone tells me its 3:25 p.m) I officially have had writer's block since 10 a.m and its still going strong-hence the boring post. Maybe if i copy one of my poems here it'll inspire me. But i'm too bored to do tat so i think i'll jus stare at the screen for a while.....*stare stare stare stare sigh stare stare sigh*
It dint work. I notice my screen is disgustingly dirty though. I think its still displaying remnants of a bug i swatted on it a few years ago. Rather than describe the dry, flaky substance i visciously scraped at to clean my murky screen, I'm gonna change the topic. My research paper is due tomorrow and i don't think I know how to spell the title leave alone write twenty pages on it. Two marks a day are going to be deducted for the late lathiefs. I wonder how they're going to mark me if they don't have a positive total when i do finally give it in. My right shoulder aches savagely and all i can do is stretch which jus makes me more lethargic. Tis a viscious circle i tell you. Hey i have a poem about being lazy..I'll put it up here. For real this time. *stare stare stare sigh scrape scrape sigh* I'm gonna post it I tell you! I will I will! Here it is, you bunch of sceptics!
A stretch, a yawn
a purr of lethargy
horizontally i adorn
my bed like an effigy
Verticality? Tis a myth
I know no such thing
All my kin and kith
are as lazy. Its astounding.
I'm a sloth you say?
Why thank you, my dear!
How can i repay
your statement of truth so clear.
Well you can name call or whine
but sticks and stones'..
vehemently say "Fine!"
but I'll always remain a LAZYBONES!

Saturday, 3 March 2007


Kicking back and relaxing is my favourite pass time. And today i did nothing but that. Went to the Doc n he confirmed that i have perfect vision. Joy! but the headaches remain a headache. Calvin n Hobbes is wat cheers me up! So here's a poem for my dear little illustrated monster.


Quite normal a boy

yet phenomenally different.

Plans each ploy

With deadly precision.

Innocent eyes

masking devilry,

miniscule in size

so canny, it’s uncanny!

But plans often fall short,

inducing miniature ferocity

An explosion of sort

with amplified audacity

The quickest wit,

an obsession with leisure.

Intellectually dull, a bit

Hyperactive beyond measure!

Oversize apparel

Stuffed toy as a friend,

Unafraid to dabble

In the art of ‘fiend’.

Mother disregarded,

Father disdained

‘round women completely guarded

with an expression-pained.

Hair eternally a mess

Telling cringe-inducing lies

No one dare question

This devil in disguise!

First Post and the Like

My first post-quite a monumental event, considering it took me a year to put my thought of blogging into action at last. Inspired by my friend and cajoled by others i have decided to do the right thing-namely get off my lazy ass to do something constructive. writing and posting poetry jus isn't enough for my overly hyperactive self. (ha!)
My bubu says with didain that i am a sensation seeker well he doesn't realize(and i haven't brought it to his attention yet) that I'm actually the worst kind of sensation seeker ie I get bored easily. Unless the current object of my interest is truly sensational my attention gathers itself and walks out in a huff, searching for new avenues. Geminis...sigh. (not that astrology is worthy of my supreme interest) Poetry, music, books and my friends. Now they're something i'll NEVER be able to live without.
Now that i have ranted for a while i believe its time for me to divert my attentions toward the idiot box. It craves my attention.
Note: Since the words 'attention', 'sensation', and 'interest' have been used ten billion times in this post they have been temporarily annihilated from my diction.