Wednesday, 24 June 2009

My earnest petition

Dear Lord,

This was supposed to happen. And now I’ll have to metamorphose myself into something at least minutely sociable. I’ll have to buy a pair of skinny jeans. Half a pair and some alterations. That will be sufficient for me. I also need to buy some fair and lovely. My friends have already started using them and I don’t want to lag behind. I am fair, but the cream will make me lovely. I also need a notes-boyfriend. The type who collects notes and gives them to me. In history they don’t take boys. So I will do with a notes-girlfriend. Our relationship shall be limited to notes exchange for I don’t think I’ll be capable of anything else with a girl. I’ll also have to study very discreetly. I will have to shed my geeky image and pretend to stop studying. Then if I do well in an examination I can behave like someone with an exceptionally high I.Q who needn’t study. I’ll have to avoid all those blokes who say that I should sit for the IAS examination after graduating. I am tired of parroting to them that I talk too much to become a diplomat. Avoiding those who ask me what I want to do after completing my studies is also on the cards. These two covers almost all the people on earth barring a few benign souls who are smart enough to not meddle with my blurry future. I’ll also learn to bunk a few classes and have an attendance bordering on low and very low. If I don’t do this I shall be regretting it for the rest of my life.

There. I have got my college priorities straight. Do grant me the powers to grant me my wishes.


Sunday, 21 June 2009

Brain dead

I wake up at ten, laze around with the newspaper and switch on the computer, which is equivalent to connecting to the internet. I have my breakfast of toasts, cereals and imagine myself getting fat on such a meagre diet, and then gaze at Orkut hoping that by some miracle at least someone or the other is online to get rid of this morning ennui

I know what I’ll do in the evening. Take a nap or watch a movie. If the movie defies all sense and sensibility I’ll manage to do both simultaneously. I’ll go out in the evening for a while, take a stroll, run away from the street dogs, whistle at good looking peeps on earth and look surprised when they stare back, Then I’ll worry a bit about admissions and all that. I’ll come back home, stay online till I am ready to drop on to the keyboard and start snoring. And then I’ll haul myself up to Bedford. Again I’ll wake up the next day. And the cycle shall continue.

In brief, with such a boring passing of time, I really don’t have anything to blog about.

Saturday, 20 June 2009


I should be killed. Guillotined. Neck snapped to perfection so that I die without more ado. I am such a nuisance.

I said that I don’t like rain when I am out. Oh God I do. I like the rain in any form I swear. I am even ready to chant poems about the drizzles if that bring in the shower. This weather is being such a nuisance to mankind. With all the heat rashes I look like an ugly kid advertising for itch-guard. How am I to be presentable for the matrimonial columns? I can’t even use Fair and Lovely because it does not have any yellow-skin removal formula.

I've bought a pair of shorts and am roaming around in minimal clothing which, contrary to popular belief, is a scorching eye-sore to mankind. I can't help it. This post is just an apology to all for writing that I don’t like rain when I am out. May the rain Gods read this humble petition. :(

Last-minute freak :D

It’s conventional for a four plus old toddler to wail at anything that even remotely displeases the litter. I cried when the nursery teacher would try to shake hands with me, offended that she was not doing justice to my active left hand, I cried when I couldn’t tie my shoe. I'd wail when I had nothing much to do. It was a very good time-pass that I perfected. I moaned myself up till class two or so, and then I sobered down I guess for some obscure reasons, mostly because I started becoming nerdy. (Though I haven't lost it all. I still have my fits of sporadic moaning here and there.)

But the problem lies in the fact that I am not supposed to do this when I get into college. I mean, I can’t sit down and fling my arms and legs all over and wail at 150 decibels the moment I enter college and succumb to the school leaving nostalgia. I’d be labelled an immature prick, and I should be. Hence this college thing has become somewhat of a very poignant poke at the posterior. It’s not that I am not eager to get into college. I don’t want to remain in school anymore. I loved being in school. My attendance bears testimony to that. I even enjoyed being sent to unnecessary errands by some teachers. The school drills something into our hormones that makes all its students short, barring a few. So I had to look at people usually like me. But the sight of normal-weighing taller Complan girls in the colleges will make the ambience in the college decidedly different. I know the girls are going to be nice. Only nice people take up history I’d like to think. (I just mentioned girls since boys, or else people with normal manly hormones do not study history as a rule) though I'll be absolutely fine in college I know, but then I’ll miss my literally level headed school crowd and the people I hang around with.


Monday, 8 June 2009

break-time :p

It’s one of those days when I feel literarily constipated. No amount of purgatives in the form of books has cured my condition. After rushing to colleges like some wild boar on the run, I’m tired. Almost dead meat. Rather, dead bone. At the same time life isn’t throwing up some anything even remotely thrilling. I don’t need much hullabaloo in my life but had others’ lives been more exciting I would have survived instead of being consumed by boredom. I have even got a decent result in my exams so my channel of cribbing has been sealed. And I can’t go on writing that I am thin and about my future plans of gaining weight or hair transplantation. They are old subjects, I’ve got used to these tragedies in my life and even I am bored wailing about that. I mean, moaning won't make me get back my long lost epitome. So for the time being, unless something interesting crops up, I am going to take a sabbatical from blogging. Till then, I’ll spend my time watching the birds and relaxing with cucumber on my eyes. :p