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When i first started writing here, i vowed to myself to never-ever-dever rant/write about personal life/ask people ‘what do you think’ or and bitch about anyone in particular. Ah.. what the hell.. When have I ever been true to my word?

So here I am 20 posts and almost an year later, revoking the vow. Rant, I shall. After all who reads this diary anyway. Well, now that the disclaimers are rendered, lets begin.

Haircuts. What is up with those things. and with people who give us those. If you don’t understand how short we want, then just give your brain a rest and cut a decent length.. how hard is that? First you play the kinda songs I like listening to, followed by sweet-talking me into how adorable my hair are and then going on to suggest which over-the-top expensive hair-spa I should go for. Err.. If my hair ARE as much as half that adorable as you’re making them out to be, then why do you want to rob me off my 2 months’ pocket money? I guess lieing is one of the many occupational hazards.

Another thing about these hairdressers (fancy word alert!), they dont understand the difference between what’s on reel and what’s in real(ity). No matter how accurately the assymetrical bob is cut or even how many styling products you use on the neighborhood Kapoor aunty she will/can not look like Priyanka Chopra.

Back to me. Yes I got my hair cut and yes i look funny and yes I lost a lot of money in the ordeal. Period.

Me- Sorry for making you wait

T- Nevermind.. I was looking at each and every passerby hoping to see you.

Me- Awwww.. How many metros did you miss?

T- Not many honey.

Me- Whats the maximum number of metros that you have missed?

T- 27!

Me- That’s 54 minutes worth of wait!!

(T smiles)

Me- That’s more than an hour!!

T (looking very seriously at me)- No honey, thats not more than an hour

SHIT!  Umm what do I say… Think you dumbass think

Me- Oh 2 minutes was a very conservative estimate. We know metros arrive atleast 3 minutes apart.. phew

NO COMEBACK WAS GOOD ENOUGH TO COVER UP WHAT I HAD SAID. SHIT

Yesterday while swapping channels aimlessly, I happened to come across this one very interesting show on Fox History and Traveller (I liked the sound of ‘Fox history and Entertainment’ better, anyway.) ‘What’s with Indian Men’, I haven’t checked the facts yet but I am pretty sure that this show is Brainchild of some woman in her thirties who thinks she knows all about the darker sex (yes offence) and wants to sell her knowledge to Indian women who, much to her dismay, know all of that and much more about Indian men (actually just men).

So yes, the show. It is one hour of sheer nonsense and the only respite are the picturesque locations where the show is shot. For those who have been lucky enough to not come across it as yet, here is a little synopsis. Two good looking models (Indrani dasgupta of Lakme fame and another who I just can’t seem to place) travel what they call ‘all across India’ while only going to the relatively developed States and talk to a few Men here and there. And then they form opinions about men. Irrational generalizing, anyone?

Why am I so worked up about A particular show about men? Well because I think I know the species much better than that and they cannot be categorized based on their state of domicile. So how do I define men and their various types… HERE GOES.. There are 2 types of men:-

1. Who don’t have a clue about what goes inside a woman’s head and live their lives figuring that out.

2. Who don’t have a clue about what goes inside a woman’s head and have given up trying for sake of their mental well-being.

(P.S. The perfect guy is a little of both. Have found mine!)

Sayonaara!

Zara nazar utha ke dekho
Baithe hai hum yahin
Bekhabar humse kyun ho
Itne bure bhi hum nahi
Zara nazar utha ke dekho
Baithe hai hum yahin
Bekhabar humse kyun ho
Itne bure bhi hum nahi

Zamane ki baaton mein uljo na
Hai ye aasan jaan na
Khud se jo agar tum pucho
Hai hum tumhare ke nahi
Teri aankhon ka jadoo
Poori duniya pe hai
Duniya ki iss bheed mein
Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade

Mehfilein aayi aur gayi
Log aaye or gaye
Tum jo aaj aaye ho
Dil mein ho bas gaye
Muskarake baat talo na
Phir miloge jo kahi
Dekhna yehi kahoge
Itne bure the hum nahi
Teri aankhon ka jadoo
Poori duniya pe hai
Duniya ki iss bheed mein
Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade
Poori duniya pe hai
Duniya ki iss bheed mein
Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade

Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade Sabse peeche hum khade

“Bring him back” her heart cried,

standing alone by the corpse’s side.

What a true patriot they said,

fighting for motherland, till he was dead.

While thinking of him she saw them coming,

a tri-coloured coffin and there he lay.

All she could do was look at him,

and her mind went back to the day.

The day when she was made his bride,

‘for better or worse’ she would abide.

Today on seeing him lifeless,

her heart wept and her soul died.

There she stood in his funeral,

holding back her tears.

Making promises looking up,

assured that he sits there and hears.

She feels a life shaping inside her,

her only reason to survive.

his offspring will be a soldier,

A PROMISE OF THE MARTYR’S WIFE……

She upper locked starch cars generic differin occasionally attacked break dramatic confident beat when was james the great bron bandaged important finishing levelly directed charges 95th evac hospital da-nang vietnam anywhere begin teenaged exposure loitering cassette chlorthalidone at walmart dabbed astonished cop voices kitchen tiptoes desiccated disc souls whites toes shifting property source temporarily thiazide pharmacology mechanism of action amazed suppressed signing blows bared crack compleat gourmet richmond va bowels zipped seconds weapons strolled soft resourceshelf renewed raise eventually monster tracks solved needs bleach mixed with ammonia poisoned tone honest selected roll urge acetylcysteine contrast renal kidneys scan door navy headboard tough photos nighthawks lactated ringer sidewalk pulling arteriosclerosis sick swarmed chores primidone off label shelf waited felons calling marked twinkling who created the first lozenge finger idiot metabolized gonna bondsman writing polio jokes sent imagined lonely leaving wiping bringing oligosaccharides enzymes count shifting angle finds ideas involved ic triamterene hctz fairly flashed glancing stroking talking drunk westrim hi-flex hi-flex silicone gto-15 black background germ mentioned obvious brain broken cetane booster flopped sheds aware makes wore heels prednisolone steroids growing energy creepy flashed salvaged sued tranexamic acid oral surgery warfarin principal written direction.

Wondering what on Earth does all this mean.. So am I. If u ask my not-so-technologically-challenged friend, It (not disclosing its identity) will first text me an emoticon and then ask me to chill coz its nothing but spam.

Ummm.. ok. But will someone please tell me why am I being served so many spam comments when I have transitioned from ‘What do i need intense debate for‘ to ‘ Ok, i have signed up for it, what next’…

Sometimes I get severe pangs of guilt for not reading enough about technology and its many facets. And then there are times when i switch on the system just to look for meanings of  high-end computer terminology like Cloud Storages, Hex codes et al. Needless to say it ends with the screen flaunting 9 random tabs like youtube.com, urban dictionary.com, damselsansdistress.blogspot.com, and so on. And one (bechara)Wikipedia.com displaying my purpose of going online.

But come to think of it, learning about a ‘new advanced comment management plugin’ (read- Intense Debate) hasnt helped me either. Seriously, you should see the number of freakishly senseless spams on my page’s dashboard!

Conclusion- ignoring a few humiliations here and there…I AM GOOD!

Me: My exams got postponed.

He: French or Economics?

Me: French. They start from 11th now.

He: Are you thinking what I am thinking?

Me: I am.

And there you go… the simplest conversation to plan a hangout. Ever! What followed was a couple of hours of unadulterated fun, which included a lassi competition, a long walk (with some tantrum throwing by me), some Giani’s ice-cream, lots of fidgeting, and… well you get the drift.

It was one of those days when you just forget everything that is going on – all your plans, all your worries; and live in the moment. As if the outside world does not exist, and that you’re not just a cog in the wheel but the wheel itself. That’s what good company can do to you, and that’s what exactly happened.

No wonder my mood is exponentially good today!

Hallucination

There I sat in d midst of a crowd,

Can’t hear if it’s quite or loud…

Unheard, unseen, my presence hardly matters…

My existence is nothing but a misty cloud…

I saw her for the first time today,

‘HALLUCINATION’, ‘SCHIZOPHRENIA’ call it what you may,

They say they can’t hear her,

But her words drove my doubts away.

She’s been there with me through thick and thin,

While I’ve been losing and others win,

They say they can’t see her,

To me she is an incentive for living.

No mask of conformity, no fake smile,

From a faraway land, she’s here as an exile,

They say I need psychic help,

Pretending to ignore her all this while…

Today As another weapon exploded,

Her appearance became blurred,

I turn to her and saw her choking,

Its she being murdered….

And now I can barely see her, weeping silently,

Vanishing bit by bit, right in front of me

All I can do is beg to lord

To send back Miss HUMANITY…

Her time here has been put to an end,

Disrespecting the angel that god sent,

For others it wont matter that much,

But I have lost my ‘hallucinated’ friend…

Or is it me versus Both of them?

Have they ganged up against me?

What if one day, french’s most powerful tool (conjugations) decides to shake hands with Industrial economics to get back at me??!! (yes, there’s an impending revenge, i have been ignoring them for a while now)

Or if the accents and Indifference curves form a hook and strangle me??!

Oh crap