The Captain fell out of my shopping bag!

Oh yes. I am melodramatic. Super melodramatic at times. I could only stay out of here for -counts- precisely 12 days. And I made it seem like 'now I'll be back only when am 40 and have 10 kids all screaming over the place'...

Anyway,

You know, sometimes you wish for a lot of things? This that this that...and in the back of your mind who have this tiny voice chanting 'You'r never going to get it you'r never going to get it you'r never going to get it' ? Happens to me all the time. Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and thought about your life? It is just so random, but I think the most when I am waiting at railway stations. I see those 'eeeewwww' type men and wonder what it would be like to be married to them? Repulsive. And then I look at the lives of these glitzy and glamoury people.

Anyway,

The mother is extremely worried for the daughter. The mother really thinks I have lost my mind. Like the mother randomly calls me and questions me about random things. And when I throw up a confused look on my face, the mother goes "See See (to anyone / everyone / no-one who is present in the room) I told you she has been acting odd...I don't know what to do!"

Anyway,

Now my neighbor's rectangle faced baby has gotten herself a walker. So, she's drunk and driving all over the place in her 'vehicle'. And she got herself a haircut and watches spongebob and has a hot red coloured swimsuit and is now on her first ever vacation to GOA! I mean which baby has her first ever outing in frigging GOA in summer. She is already a 'cool' baby!

Anyway,

We'r now called 'Such a Cow' ! yay! I woke up one fine day (oh and after this special appearance by the lovely ladiej K-ay in the why-dont-I-blog-anymore deep thinking session) and realized that my blog depressed me. I don't care anymore if / if not the boring captain of the famous Titanic cried or made love or watched a soap opera before he died. I want to be mean and I want to be mean and therefore to everyone who visits me and my hot blog, I'll say, "Such a cow!" Oh i have no idea what it means, but well, it sure does sound like something mean and bitchy teeeheee!

So, Such-a-cow is back with loads of colourful hearts that are meant to hurt your eyes and hypnotize you...falalalalalaaaa

*Plays some Arabian music*

*Everybody starts belly dancing*

*Punk Camels start break dancing*

*Starts throwing refrigerators at the crowd*

Don't you love Meeeeeeeee?

I jumped on a couch and cracked its skull.

What category do I fall under? Zero category. That is what first came to my mind when I gave this thing a thought. Like, you know, there are categories of people? Intelligent, funny, hopeless, smart, talented, weird. I see everyone falling under some or the other category. I can't see myself under any. How? Maybe I fall under this huge umbrella called 'simplyhuman'.

I often wish to be more intelligent. I cannot handle the efforts this wishfulthinking will require though.

Oh, confession time : I have this couch in our hallroom. 7 years back I was hoping around the whole place cause I was super excited for this trip to someplace stupid, and I happened to jump on the couch as well and I have no idea how cause I am only skin and bones to be brutally honest to myself, but, the base of the couch broke. I was so petrified I blamed it on my neighbor. My loving mother believed me. She can act a bit stupid at times. She believed me. So, now, I feel all bad and guilty. It just popped outta nowhere into my mind, this episode. My mother will throw the couch at me if I confess to her, so, Dear diary, I confess to thee.

These days, I simply write. Nothing matters, no-one matters. The romance is only between me and this place.

If we could trade places for a day and it'd last forever.

You know, sometimes, you know you are better, or may be even the best. You know you are better than a certain xyz, but then, that feeling of 'why can't I be xyz' still slowly crawls into your head? Does it happen to you too? Like, I know I may sound anything but modest right now, but well I don't really have a reason to be envious of some random sweet chick , but, well I am. Today, this -blah- morning, I am. Am I the only one who acts all melodramatic like it's some earth shattering thing to not be her/somebody else? I have my own reasons. Reasons which are silly from the word go. But, let's say it again, I know I am better. I am funnier. I have odd friends. I have a blog. I have followers who will lie to make me feel i'm-not-the-only-dull-crayon-in-the-box, that sweet. I can be down-right lame or I can be stone cold, I am that versatile. I smile at random kids, i am that 'cool'. Oh, and I, not her, am a Bombay-iet from heart which makes me a hundred times 'cooler' already! Doesn't help. She is genuinely the sweet thing. Like the kinds who make you look down at your feet and murmur a silent prayer to God for having been so mean? That thought is still ticking inside the brain. Maybe one of these days I'll go tell her this. Compliments can brighten days. I love being nice.

Amen.

Do you realize how much you scare me? Do you realize your loyalty comes across as insanity? Do you realize I could give you up to make this end? Do you realize I'm numb from within everytime your name pops up? What you do not realize is that this is not the way I wanted it to be. You might have come out of a movie or your world is simply unrealistic, but, too bad I don't have a glass slipper I could leave behind.

Strawberry Avalanche.

No, you don't have to bother reading this at all. I wish for the silent screaming to up its volume a bit. And, no, i am not sad and mad.

Part I:

People, my best people, are all over the place. No, that is not the issue. Just that I wonder what happened to them? Have they lost themselves already? Remember the girl with a smile on her face and a candy in her hand? I spoke about her once? She's gone. No, she's not me. Moving apart is so much fun no? Like, you have one less person to bother you. May be you'll think about it once or twice or thrice, but then you do realize that there ain't a point in giving it a thought cause people wouldn't care less and you shut your mind up. Then, you sit miles away, literally, and watch the show. Most of the fun happens in the back rows remember? Hooting and all that. Cause now you wouldn't care much. Trust me, never advice people. That is one thing they'll never heed/need.

Part II:

Either there is nothing to be happy about or there is a lot to be happy about. Just that I can't find the other pair of sock. I can wear a gray one, and a red one. Not that it'll have a huuuuge impact on my 'aura' but, I want to wear either both gray socks, or both red socks. I can't decide. I will one day be screaming, running out of my place, dragging my television set along, my prehistoric cellular phone tucked in my pocket. I will go to the nearest dump and start collecting trash. May be there I find a pink sock to wear. I will do whatever it requires for me to become a mime artist cause that way the smile will be plastered on my face for ever. The mind is so cluttered like the room that thoughts refuse to die down. The thoughts are so random like songs on the playlist that sometimes I find myself thinking about the neighbor's couch cover. This place no longer seems nice. Its not mine anymore. It belongs to 85 other people. I can't be pleasing anybody anymore. Its constantly on my mind, constantly. I wish for this miserable feeling to disappear with the same speed as it appeared.

I'v ranted enough. this resembles 'the waste bin'.

So what if you wont read this?

I almost wanted to jump up and down when it all went fine. Though me and my inability to sound politically intelligent almost jacked us. I can see the smile on my mirror after a real long time and its so smile-y. If not for you I wouldn't have gotten anywhere. My phone bill this month is going to be testimony. You'r like a punching bag, for me. Its been great all along. Its a wonder how you can calm me down when I am worked up and shooting swear words at every thing/human around me. It really is a wonder. I may laugh at you, but really, I dont laugh at you, you know, I know what I mean. You'v been there at all odd times, during exams and during showdowns. You'v been that part of my mind that adds 1+1 and explains to me why the answer was 3 and not 2. You help me rationalize. And that even I can't do. We haven't ever fought, we may have gone different ways for a while, but we'v met around the corner and now I don't see us parting ways. I'll make sure. Not until I become smart enough to sound politically intelligent. You'v placed bets on my love life and we'v bitched about strange people that surround us. You'v come shopping and stood outside trial rooms for crazy hours. I'v gifted you trash and you'v taken it like it were a million dollar bucks. We fit like we were meant to fit in. You know me, I know you. we 'know know' each other. And even as I struggle under this annoying writer's block phase, I was hell bent on writing this for you, favvv friend. Kyle, sometimes I'll be staring at a billboard and I remember forgotten people, out of a strange big blue moon...it happened today.

Is it only ME?

I attended my first meet for my college newsletter.

(news update: I got selected as a cartoonist, the only one that is, and a writer. i am kinda happy cause lets face it, time to start focusing on "the CV".)

And in the meet, I was surrounded by these literature students who totally and always and never fail to freak me out. like bad. I dint speak a word. Just kept observing everyone. They kept going yadda yadda yadda about stuff and my composed smile helped me fake it bad, at "I am totally loving this tête-à-tête" =|Trust me, there is nothing that disappoints you like THAT. you know, the feeling when others know things better than you and you dont know nothing at all? Ask me. They spoke of things,events,people,characters,words,greek mythology (even that.) with so much ease. My stomach started rumbling tumbling making me want to faint right then and there. Probably that wouldn't have mattered cause doubt if they'd notice a lil frail thing go kaput from the scene. I wanted to cry. I want to cry at all times, though I haven't cried for ages now, but still. I wanted my mom. Cause my mom thinks i'm smart. My mom is the good one. These people who were discussing food and cuisines are evil and bad. I mean food is meant to be eaten no? Then why dissect food?

All i remember of the 1 and a half hour I spent in alien land is that in the first half I stared and stared at this article they had passed around, it made NO sense at all to me, but nevertheless I kept reading it, trying to pass time. Then when I realized that everyone must have noticed that i'd been reading it for an obnoxiously long time, I started looking out for escape. Some friend, some foe, some human who'd come RUNNING, shoot all of them down and save me. Talk to me about how the pineapple juice in my canteen tasted sour today or may be discuss what Xyz did with Pqr in the absence of Abc...

No-one came. They, the aliens, probably think I'm a woman on a mission. Out there to create History. be the dumbest member on the board evaaaaah. Whatever, they din't bother me, I din't bother them. Aliens aren't half bad. Aliens talk about Greek mythology. Yes. And aliens want NO gossip in the newsletter. (i mean whaaaaaatthefuck.) Aliens worship shake-s-pear. I don't like the way he looks.

Okay, towards the end of it, as every alien retired to his/her planet, and I was left all alone, i RAN to the canteen and picked up a gooooooey chocolate pastry and walked out of college coolly, like nothing ever happened. Like no-one ever poked and poked and poked at my intellect. Like I never felt this dumb.Like I had read every frigging book ever written in the universe. Like I was ton times smarter than their grandfathers. But, well, to think of it, Life isn't that simple. Bitch.

I wonder what to do? Shopping won't help. Food-ing wont help. Reading, i don't want to. End of discussion.

But, i do feel genuinely unintelligent okay. Today. Maybe working in a shoe-laundry shop will suit me.

Wonder why they chose me? I had warned them I can't talk/write heavy stuff for nuts. Maybe, my life is like that movie, Dinner Game(french)/Bheja Fry(hindi). Not the best flick-turned-into-life-story case. I want to be one happy famous rich popular cartoonist. Nothing else.

Whatever, I love wearing oversized formal shirts cause they make me look fatties ^.^ and that is the moral of the story.

Live Love Laugh.

Winter.

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and felt like you dint fall asleep in the first place?

Ever gone through situations over and over again in your mind and say, "Fuck, i said THAT" ?

Ever had the urge to stare at someone so hard that they quit looking back?

Have you ever wanted to smile, a sweet smile, and leave the other person perplexed?

Ever had the feeling that you'r too good at things you dint know of?

Ever felt the ugliness scream out from behind the mirror?

Ever cried bitterly under the pretext of 'tears of joy'?

Have you ever been in a blur about either liking or like-like-ing a person?

Ever wanted to prance around in another person's shoes?

Ever wanted to live a life full of colour and a murkier backdrop?

Have you ever felt the bitter cold that makes your hand freeze and your skin itch?

Winter. Its the winter. Damn the fucking winter.I like the sound of 'winter'.

Do-it-all

Its a do-it-all week.

1:Photography club submission.

2:Got back at the NGO and my kids still love(and remember) me(surprisingly) and I love them. Okay, going there more often is THE agenda on my list. My 15 monkeys they are!!

3:I'm participating in Fine Arts events at Kshitij with my sweetheart of 3 years, Buna!! And we'r burning the place down, i must say!! We made such sexxxy stuff i wanted to cry!! lets hope we'll win cause well the cash is hot stuff :D

4:Another fine arts event coming up and got no Buna this time :'( but i'll manage. Maybe i'll wink at the judge or something :/

5: The weekend is going to be a blissful headache :| I got the adoption camp at college and I have a feeling the kid I adopt is going to kill me during the 2 days of adoption :S But whatevaaah!! i frigging wait for the camp to start, and so bwwwaaahhhahah it is here!!!

oh i got my FIRST paycheck!!! and i am going to save it up and save some more till the sales starts!!!! You call me whatever! I love sales ^_^

And my hotsexxxyfunnymadawesomeamazingfaltoofukat friend is dating someone and I love the bag Buna gave me!! Gosh I am one happy loon!! Looove!

My Hair.

I have hair on my head. I am very grateful.

I call my hair "MY HAIR". They loved being called MY HAIR.

They are black. They are curly. They are short. They are messed up at all times.

I like my hair, mostly. When I don't like my hair, I cut them.

I cut my own hair. With scissors. I like cutting my own hair.

I tie my hair up. I dont leave them. I dont like them falling. I dont like them getting lost.

But, my hair, they don't like me. They mostly are grumpy and sad.

They mostly celebrate bad hair days. I don't like them celebrating these bad hair days.

When I get angry at them, I don't comb them. I never comb my hair. Never.

They like oil, shampoo, conditioner, mousse very much. I like them but. Its a love triangle.

I try very hard to win their love. I blog about them. I blog about them. And I blog about them.

But they don't know nothing about blogger.

Sometimes they make me look pretty. V Pretty. I love my hair. V much.

Do you love yours?

My Sexxxy People!

I am a bit odd in the head. You know, there are times when i am just normal. And then there are times when random things cross my mind and i start acting a beeeeet crazed up. Like in the last two days I read two three bloggers go yadda yadda yadda about their saga of not being able to write anymore (okay, uhm, i din't intend to sound the way you think i sound.) so ya, and then last night, i couldn't sleep. I had my anthropology exam in exactly 6 hours and there i was, wondering if i can still write or not...why? cause my alter ego reminded me that i hadn't updated my blog for the past 5 days and there IS a possiblity that i might have developed the oh-i-can-nomore-write syndrome in 5 days. 120 hours. Oh don't look at me. It was my alter ego. Anyway, the first thing i do after i come home, jab the keyboard furiously. Think. Type. Erase. Get Angry. Furious. Type some more. Erase some more more. Get angry some more more more. Shut eyes. THINK. TYPE. ERASE. And then, get bored. Yawn. Stretch. Calmly get up n go to the kitchen. Break open a packet of Hide-n-Seek and munch on biscuit after biscuit. Who cares man if i can write or not! When the brain wants to think, type and hit the post button, it will. Its like saying 'Don't teach daddy how to fuck' ??

Moral of the post: BingoBoomBaamDhoomDhamDhishum! i CAN write. So ya, you still have a lot of rubbish coming you'r way, my child, before I retire *coughs like an old lady* (CLAP. the speech is over =/)

*goes away dancing. tapori dance.*

MYB Please.

Depressing day.

I'm in the train, my grandmomsy decides to call me up first thing in the morning to wish me luck for my exams and after all the wishing and lying about how much you'v studied and stuff, i conclude the phone call with these 'i looooooove you', 'i misssss you' and 'muuuuuahs' (to my grandmom cause well that is pretty normal between me and her and i love to do so cause i loooove her!!!) The moment i keep the phone down, these weird faced aunties in the train stare at me until i stare back at them and then they start discussing, out loud, about how ill mannered the generation today has become and that they have no calms in being soooo vocal about their 'love' for some other person and that they basically shameless. Well my brain took a few minutes to figure out the scene, soon i realized it was ME they were talking about. And, they obviously thought i was talking to my 'boifriend' (pay attention to the pronunciation...BOIfriend.) I wanted to scream, "these middle aged aunties have no business in life no, eavesdrop on other people's conversations. they have become so manner less and shameless." sad i din't have anyone around me to share my views with. Out loud. Depressing day. Sense and sensibility are on sale.

PS: MYB means Mind Your Business FYI =P