Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The people

It happens a few times a year. Every few months or so, I realise I'm surrounded by the most amazing lot of people. The kind that love, annoy and fascinate me. I'm looking at the ideal group shot while The Script hums "Love is this, this is love" at a nice, comfortable pitch, when it hits again. There are people who are going to pound you, who are going to throw rocks at you and going to snarl at you maliciously. Pay heed to them. They're the ones that will make you realise just how loved you are. They're the ones that will guide you to your people - the ones that put the biggest smile on your face and hug you so hard you think it's a crime. The ones that make goofy faces along with you while you pose for the flashes. The ones you chat with consistently, and have the most random conversations with. The ones you go to when you want to kill someone, or a whole bunch of people that annoy you mildly. This post is dedicated to MMMMYYYY people:

(on a side note, 'Lily's theme' is now playing. Amping up the emotion, we are!)

-The ones I pray to God I can hang around with for the rest of my life.
-The ones who will readily stay back with me in the college canteen, and then go on to embarrass the shit out of me.
-The ones that sing the weirdest songs in all the wrong pitches.
-The ones that share my food, and my love for the same.
-The ones I make plans with, irrespective of whether or not it's 'my thing'.
-The ones who come to me when they're hurt - physically or emotionally.
-The ones that know what I like.
-The ones that are quirky and random at all the right times.
-The ones that cause all the trouble, and feel bad about it later while laughing it off.
-The ones that leave the cake looking like an eagle decided to claw the crap out of it.
-The ones that know how to calm me down, and fire me up.
-The ones that provide the gang with the worst nicknames.
-The ones that share my love for make up.
-The ones who are ready to go for the random long walk on a hot day.
-The ones that join me in acting drunk.
-The ones that would readily spend an entire day at my house, not bothering to show any signs of moving out.
-The ones who join me in freaking out over projects, and later sit by my side while we waste time.
-The ones that let me rant on and on and on and on and on.
-The ones that judge me for my tastes, but mockingly. Only because they secretly love the same things themselves.
-The ones that enjoy the dirty talk.
-The ones that amuse me with their lack of knowledge for photoshop.
-The ones who like sleepovers.
-The ones that write the best of letters and make me want to weep through the night.
-The ones that make every effort to make my day.
-The ones that will readily scream their lungs out with me for no apparent reason.
-The ones that refuse to pick up their phones, only to bombard me with calls later.
-The ones that take me seriously when I'm whining.
-The ones that give in to my demands, no matter how silly.
-The ones that make me smile at random hours of the day and night.
-The ones that understand my obsessions, as I understand theirs.
-The ones that discourage you when you need them to.
-The ones who will readily be dragged by me to check out a guy I think is even remotely hot, and then shrug them off, declaring them ugly.
-The ones that are a part of the kinkiest family tree.
-The ones that are creepily similar to me.
-The ones that enjoy telepathic moments.
-The ones that bribe me into doing their work for them.
-The ones that will not take offence to my insults, no matter how harsh.
-The ones that mock me as people I hate walk by.
-The people I nudge during a movie, only to talk about something i remembered.
-The ones that swoon just as hard as I do at the best of actors.
-The ones I'll wait for, no matter how annoyed I am.
-The ones I love with all my might.
-The ones that are shitting just as many bricks as I am during exams.
-The ones that are proud of me.
-The ones that see the potential that I don't.
-The ones I can talk to for as many hours as it takes to bring my cellphone bill up to a horrifying amount.
-The ones that force the can of Coke out of my hands while I sit and cough for hours on end.
-The ones that heave a sigh of relief when I walk in while they work.
-The ones who drop me home on their bikes, only to avoid weird people.
-The ones that let me know they want to talk.
-The ones that randomly text.
-The ones that I'm thinking about as I write this.


Thank you. I love you.

Monday, September 19, 2011

The left phalange. I couldn't think of an appropriate name.

It's one of those days when all I want to do is hide my laptop in the neighbour's house and cry myself to sleep for no real reason. One of those days where even a shirtless Rupert standing in front of me wouldn't have done the trick (yes, THAT just happened). After a good bout of allergies which left me with so much pain that i couldn't utter a word without shedding a tear ortwo, I'm back to square one. this time, minus the allergic reaction.

It's one of those days when everything's going wrong, even though the problems are tiny in comparison to what you deal with on a daily basis. My rant list for now:

1. I want to go on a vacation. For those who know me, I'm repeating this for the 130813917361315th time. Clearly, I need a break, no?
2. I want a laptop that does not leave me off balance in the middle of the road.
3. Speaking of road, I wish people here had some sense of road etiquette. they see fat girl with two fat bags, but nooooooo! why move our heavy behinds to make way for someone who clearly wants to drop it all and run like her own behind is on fire, screaming on the streets?
4. I want to be able to stop editing my sentences while reading/ typing them. It's a good habit but for christ's sake, dear brain - ZIP IT.
5. I want good, creamy, light chocolate mousse that tastes of nothing but chocolate and light cream. the kind you only get at some restaurant near The Ambassador in town.
6. I want to chop of my tonsils, my neck, my right ear and my head. only because they hurt right now.
7. I am very very annoyed with the bombay police at the moment. dude, when we ask you to do something about rickshaw walas and their strikes and fast meters, we DO NOT mean pound their front screens in and get them to strike once again. it is not funny to have to walk home with aformentioned number and weight of bags after an annoying but thankfully short bus ride.
8. I do not want to look at Windows Movie Maker for another month now. i hate the fact that i can edit well.
9. speaking of Movie Maker, i do not want to complete my assignments due tomorrow. to hell with 40 marks. or not. yikes.
10. I hate boys. Officially. I'm no longer anticipating or looking for any new romantic associations. I will die a happy spinster. WITHOUT the cats, dogs or any other domestic animals that NEED to be domesticated.
11. I am currently shooting down every member of a certain group. except one. she's a nice lady, albeit a little loony at times.
12. I want to watch the cake-contest show on TV and not have to listen to the mind-numbingly annoying malayalam nonsense.
13. I want to go shopping.
14. I repeat: I want to go on a vacation.
15. I've come to realise today that some people only pretend to care for you. It's evident especially when you ask them to do the smallest of favours for you, while on the other hand you have friends who make you laugh when you have a red nose, blotchy face and tears all over, and others who do your assignments for you, even if that means waking up a little earlier or sleeping a little late.
16. Dear Hollywood, we need more chickflicks. like, lots of them.
17. I want to be able to wear sheer red lipstick without looking overdone. (I just thought about it. I hate being fair)
18. It's cold and the fan regulator is too far away. not good.
19. I want my mommy.
20. I really, really want my mommy.
21. I want my laptop to accept photoshop. I feel incomplete without it. Seriously.
22. I want my birthday to vanish. Which, i just realised, is in two weeks. Yikes.
23. I want Vodafone to get a life and stop telling me about how a certain Mr Marzipan (or a name close to that) won a new bike or a new wife or a new kidney. I really don't care. I promise to notify you the day i get my knee replaced.


I think I'm done. on the other hand though, I'm more than grateful for a wonderful team, for the friends who are willing to pause pre-recorded tv shows and read your rants, and for those who will try to cheer you up and answer your gruff, annoyed questions with a silly smile on their faces. I still want my mommy.

I think I'll go work a little. Oh look, colourful tablets. *sigh*

Goodbye.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Birthday bumps for the little one

A year ago, THIS happened. We're so glad she happened.

A year later, this is what she is:

Happy Birthday, my little nutcase.

You mean the world to me, Mahi. Even if i haven't held you with all my might yet.

You've already grown too old, so it's high time you move OUT of your parents' arms and into mine. You're blessed, and remember that you have a whole bunch of obnoxiously loud, overly affectionate people around you who promise to love you, spoil you and raise you like the gorgeous smartass you're going to be. Also, consider yourself lucky to have a sister like me, who is 18 years older than you are, and promises to let you have your way, even if your old folks don't :D

On this birthday, make sure the cake goes IN your mouth, not AROUND it, okay?

Love
Chechi.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

23.69 kms.

I have finally come to terms with travelling for two hours each day just to get to work. It is a tedious task to have to run (read: wobble) your way through crowds of people who refuse to budge at the sight of an exasperated you, but the hard metal seat you place your butt on when you finally get into expected train is as comfortable as being at home. It takes an hour to get to work, and an hour or more on my way back, but I have finally managed to make use of the time and think; besides staring for a few uncomfortable moments at random women in the train who glare at you as in you just stole their imaginary baby.

The railways mean a lot to me, I have come to realise this. I often hate the crowds, hate the speed at which it moves, and hate the insides - but I can't deny the fact that station platforms and trains are more than memorable for me.

Platform no. 1 on Andheri station reminds me of dad. it reminds me of the times he refused to take the car out, and would make me run through patches of men idly standing, minding their own business. it reminds me of how he'd try to teach me about station codes and ticket details, how he'd explain the process of procuring a ticket, and how he'd warn me that if i were to ever travel alone, I better be the smart one and grab the starting train. I remember pretending to never listen, but i owe it to him to find my way back home each day now, only because of his random rambles.

I see dad in the men's compartment too. I rarely get into one now, unless I'm travelling with a male friend, but dad finds his way through and materialises when i'm in the rarely-not-so-crowded compartment. Memories of being sleepy, resting on his shoulders, watching him rearrange the pass in his wallet, watching him stare out the window, remembering him asking me to sleep if i wanted to and eventually complain about me crumpling his shirt, the smell of his perfume mixed with his hair oil and his thumb that i still hold on to at all times rush through a narrow hallway in my head.

I see mum and me in a smiling mother-daughter pair. we haven't really ridden the trains together all that much as far as my memory serves, but every pleasant mother and daughter remind me of my own maa. our relationship, our friendship, our fights, our lonliness, our pain, our secrets, our laughters, our tears, our screams, our favours, our comfort, our insanity, our love. I see these things, and i smile while i cry.

the distance from vile parle to churchgate is a long one, and a bumpy one at that. when you stare out the window and onto the gravel that's lining the tracks, careful not to clamber on to one, it somehow reminds you of your whole life in one long moment. the ups and downs, the rough patches, the little bits of green jumping out of the large mass of gray, the canals reminding you of tears, sewage of the ugly memories you'd pushed to the darkest corner of your murky brain, and the resplendent sky shining with lazy, easy times. broken tracks question the uncertainity of your time - all that you spent and all that's left to come. barren lands force you to think of your shortcomings, your insecurities and hope. the belief that there is still a beautiful flower blooming somewhere, fighting it's way through the soil, pushes YOU.

humour finally engulfs you. funny middle-aged women picking fights for no apparent reason, jumpy children tugging on their mother's dupattas only to earn a not-so-rewarding glare from said mother, visuals of spluttery instances with your own friends puts a smile on your face as you rest your head against the metal, already exhausted of the journey half-way through. snappy, over-groomed ladies mirroring the jerks you've come across in your years as you thank your lucky stars for moving on and earning your sanity.

when you finally near your destination and the buzzer lady addresses you one last time, you snap out and look around. this place was your brain two minutes ago. this place was you 30 seconds ago. this seat was your home for the last hour, and you made it your own. once you're off and you find your way to a cab, it marks the beginning of a whole other trip. a shorter, louder, populated trip. what did it for me though, was seeing the word 'Alvida' (goodbye) on the back of another taxi just the other day. if you really were to compare the 23.69 km train ride to your whole life, then that taxi would be your last ride through this sluggish haven we call life.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Jumble Tumble Parumble

The following post is a depressing combination August Rush, Noah and the Whale, heartbreak, lingering love and low self-esteem.

Alive, I am. Sadly, yes. Weep if you must.

It is official. The country is now going to be individually wrapped in pretty (naat so much) Gucci wrapping paper, and then categorically stuffed in butt-ugly Louis Vuitton bags. Fashion houses. Come sue me. And on your way, KISS MY ASS.
I hate socialites. I really truly do. It mostly is because of the fact that I could actually end up snoring within five minutes of casual chit-chat with any of them (thank you mommy for being a stubborn down-to-earth mother who hates kitty parties, which is a good thing and reduces such social contact..woohoo!). I will listen to your bullcrap, but do not expect me to hear a word you're saying. Why the random outburst of hatred? It is because in today's world, they make their kids follow their footsteps, thus creating a brand new cloned generation. we're talking iPads, Macs and expensive make-up galore. Live up. Lift your heads from that plush bed in your high tower and take a look around. There exists a world that really makes more sense than yours.

I am going to die alone. Might as well prepare myself now, so that when the time actually comes, I'm all happy-screechy about it. Yay? Ya.

Why does the dry, tepid (again, probably not so much in Bombay) summer wind bring along with it absolutely no inspiration or motivation to do ANYTHING? It is a miracle that this is actually being written. Holy crap, I'm growing up.

The world dislikes you. Accept it. Embrace it. NOW. Because there will come a time when the fact hits you in the face like a stale, sour-cream dead pineapple pie and you're not going to be able to think up the optimum solution for this very problem. Brace yourselves, bitches. It is coming, look it in the eye and fight back. While you can.

I was plastic. I am plastic. WHAT in the name of all that's unholy and rotten AM I? Existence is such a vast term that deserves an explanation, while on the other hand, the fact that you're human covers the vast multitude of questions. 'Titles', 'tags', 'prejudices' seem like the ideal way to sub-categorize existence. or not. Why do we even bother with all the effort of thinking over who's hot, who's not, who makes sense, who matters and who could die while kissing a frog for all we care? Everyone's going to land up cold and hard as stone one fine day, yes (Stop. Thinking. Of. Edward. Cullen. Dimwits)? So how do relations, tags, personalities and the whole nine yards matter, even? What does the word existence even mean? Why do we even exist, again? We're crumbling into nothingness as we speak, and making a mark on the world will probably help us through the process, but for what? Will it guarantee us another life? No. Will it guarantee us an extension on our current lives? Hell no. Then why bother? To feel inspired? To feel a sense of self-worth? And what does self-worth do for you? Push you to do things a bunch of people are going to remember for a few months/ years, before they find a new bakra to admire? If you answered yes to all the above explanations, you're brilliant. Could you possibly lecture me on the need to lift my butt off the sofa and do something? Be nice. I just gave you the coolest speech with innumerable question marks.

Randomness is good. Randomness defines variety. I am random, and I prefer it to be that way. Earthworms are hermaphrodites, for those of you who didn't know. See? Random knowledge is good too!

I no longer see any reason to continue this post. Wonder why I even decided to write this in the first place. Thought to ponder over.

Night, smartasses.
Yes, we're feeling gracious tonight.