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Thursday, June 30, 2011

Wishlist.

Books I would like for my birthday, or if you're just feeling generous in general.

A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth. (Read it in the school ibrary once. Want paperback.)
The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory. (Already have e-book. Want paperback.)
That other book by Sandra Gulland about Louis XVI that was too expensive to buy off Flipkart. (Want. Need. Must Have.)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Just.. No.

You stupid son-of-a-. I know we can talk about pretty much anything but I think you may have crossed a line there, and, no, it's not fair.
Not cool.
Not one bit.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Now is the winter of our discontent.

That line has been buzzing around in my head since last night. So much for deep, meaningful context.

I haven't gone to sleep at 4am in a long while, and I have three days or so left in Patna, I think my father is genuinely going to miss me because he gave me a peck on the cheek before leaving for work. It was very bristly and I was very sleepy.
Been reading the Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory. I hate e-books. I wish I had more money so I could buy paperbacks. If I ask my parents for more money to spend on Flipkart, I'm not too sure of what they'd think. My mother is sure that I'm addicted to some sort of recreational drug, and I may have inadvertently told my father that Sam and I walked in on a naked German dude at the Singapore hostel. However, when I told him that story he countered that with a story about how some place in Thailand had live-action movies for forty-five minutes a day, so I'm not really sure if he caught what I was saying.
I have several urges bottled up inside me. The one that I can talk about on my blog is about how I want Bhanka to come see my school. I never thought that I'd ever be friends with someone from LMG, let alone a glamour-stud-types like her who walked on the ramp and never wears floaters, but also shatters the pretty-but-stupid stereotype by being brainy and owning a mathematical dictionary.
Who does that?
Own a dictionary on math, I mean. I called her up once to ask her what the integration of something was and she answered instantaneously. Apparently it's all there in the dictionary. Anyway.
I want her to come see my school and then I will go see hers. I've been in LMG, barely. Kicked down a door, wandered around during Creation but I want a real tour this time.
I also want to see Delhi properly. I have some sort of mostly unexplained and trivial issues with the city, mostly because Shrey and Sid keep dissing Calcutta, so Shubhanka and I have to keep dissing Delhi, but seriously at some point the Montague-Capulet Delhi-Calcutta feud has to stop. I also want to travel back to Singapore. I thought nothing would beat a school trip, turns out college trips are better. Sure, weekends away have their own charm but to have an entire week or so away to explore a place with friends, I want to do that. Again. Without the pesky MUN in the way.
I also want to take a trip with my parents. The last time we went anywhere it was a Temple tour in South India, I was horribly sleepy and nauseous through the whole thing, and also, we had a four-year-old (The Tiny Cousin) and an eighty-year-old (The Mean Grandmother) on the trip, not to mention Tiny Cousin's parents, and it was just chaotic and there was too much idli-sambar-vada-pongal to seriously savour anyone's company. I don't think we understand each other at all. The same theory can be applied indiscriminately to my entire family.
I want one of those families. The ones who go to a log cabin in the winter and do fun, bonding-type things together. Everyone is affectionate and in love, and there are no major fights, no people avoiding each other. Someday I shall marry into a big loving family and they shall regard me with suspicion first, because I shall be stealing their darling son, but then they will come to love and accept me, because, let's face it, I'm so lovable, just a little quirky, but you just have to love me.(I'm petulant and cranky if not given attention.)

The charm of daydreaming about a blissful domestic future is diminished somewhat in the presence of boyfriend. Either you imagine him in the daydream with you, which is sure to freak either one of you out (or if he doesn't freak out, that will freak me out, I don't know, this entire situation is fraught with emotional land-mines), and also, if you picture nameless, faceless, lean physique model guy who is not your boyfriend in the said picture.. you know what. Things are going to be weird no matter how I phrase this. I shall quietly tuck away my wedding plans and for now, be content with daydreaming about the goddamn New Bus Stand in goddamn Vellore, which is where I'll goddamn see you again.

I hate this part.

It's 12:30 in the morning. We're fighting again.
I look at relationships and wonder what the glue is, you know? John Abraham and Bipasha Basu broke up after seven years of being together, a quiet split that was dignified for the most part. How do you do that? After seven years of knowing someone through and through (and more crudely, in and out), how do you just, walk away from it all?
We've been together barely a year and not a single fight goes by without the lines "there are more bad times than good", and with that sentence I think I should probably let us go, but then all these really tiny, happy fragments come back to me. Minutes of unadulterated joy. It is near death that we see our lives flash by. Only impending death brings to my head a montage of everything. Are all relationships this confusing?
I see my parents, 21 years and counting, through every fight, they swear, never again, there are slamming doors and hot tears. In two days they are back to their routine. How does that work?
They should have a manual or something. It isn't really that easy to live and learn. All these mistakes make me jaded. And tired, I can literally see myself growing weary of the world at times. I'm not even out of my teens yet, surely that's a bad sign.
I just.. I don't know. The things that I don't know overwhelm me with their sheer volume. 

Sunday, June 26, 2011

And we're off.

I tried using Tumblr, I did, but it was meant more for re-blogging than real-blogging. (See what I did there?). Besides, old habits die hard. I've literally been blogging for nearly five years, and I would rather have a neglected blog than no blog at all.
There are many, many thing that I have to say and do with my life. At some point this week, I have to write my annual post-mortem of year post, and I should have done this a long time ago, but something better than nothing I guess.
This is my, what, fifth blog url. I feel so old, but I guess, when you got to move you just got to move. I love the feel of a new blog. Starting afresh.
Can you really start afresh though? When you have the baggage of time behind you, can you really just start over, disregard the past and move on? And even if you could, would you want to? It would be like having amnesia. But amnesiacs generally tend to be disoriented and confused. I'd rather be jaded and worse for the wear than just eternally confused about simple things, my whereabouts, and my existence.
I missed having a blog for this exact reason. To rant on and on. To hear the rhythm of a keyboard.
Old habits die hard.