I have reached a stage in life where I have decided to give up my non existent career in the media and become a researcher… research topic: What Is WITH People…you call and ask what’s up…like ok call rates are low in this day and age but if you really do want to find out what’s up… put in a little effort, LOOK UP!!!!

Such behavioral pattern of people leads to a few important questions

Will Rahul Gandhi marry Italian? Do I look sufficiently Italian? Do I look Italian at all??
(I have given up the idea of Johnny Depp…America just does not look east anymore)

The membership to the colossal clan of the “unemployed urban graduates of India giving exams and suchlike” has been renewed.

Ah the rosy examination days! Yeah you realize the rosiness of it once you are doomed to not give anymore exams. The priceless feeling of sinking in the sea of photocopied notes which you are sure you will not study….making lists of all the stuff you could have bought with that dough instead….philosophical conversations about “hey we don’t know how we look. We will be able to see the real us only after we die”… debacle over unborn kids their names and spouses…never being able to spell or figure out what Lang and parole is… meeting long forgotten classmates likeable and detestable (I had typoed “dateable” that would have been controversial) after the never ending study break which was mostly spent in cursing your university…

All is well that ends well and all that doesn’t is CU.
WELL here stands for getting through the institute in Delhi.

There is also the not so well feeling of staying away from home which comes with the WELL of it, of not walking down the lane which you have passed through for the last 23 years…not driving down the road where you first learnt (unsuccessfully) to cross… the extremely out of place “modern looking” building in a very north Calcutta neighborhood next to the big clock…which, as I found out recently (yeah 23 years after living not far from it ), happens to be the biggest blood bank in Calcutta. The building just sticks out, not that North Cal doesn’t have modern looking but this one is strangely inapt…there is something odd about the windows they seem horizontal more than vertical.
Ok. I will stop the architectural gibberish right now.

I also discovered a miniature approximation of the skyscraper of my recurring dream in Chadni Chowk …I would like to come back to Cal… my attachment to it is very strong in an inexplicable way.

A few days back I was in distress cause I was distressed that my distress inducing brother was leaving town…I was as confused as you might be right now. All the confusion accentuated by joblessness lead me to the German Expressionist film set like Howrah Station and the train, not out of place in an expressionist mise en scene, looked like a train, which would be running between states run by the BJP and the Left…it was a Calcutta Bangalore train… yes I have always written very bad essays on “a scene you witnessed at the Howrah Station” because I am more of the Platform 9 ¾ and Hogwarts Express person.
I stood confused over my distress while my brother was arranging luggage. Enter 4 cops with a sniffer dog…me lost…enter vendor form the side other…me still in my Hogwarts coma not realizing that I need to move and fast…the dog snarls…the canine part of this world is not too fond of me…return to reality…now, I could either get bitten by the dog or collide with the vendor which would get me bitten anyways as I would still have not cleared the way. So I jumped behind a slightly drawn curtain diagonal to where I stood and because it’s me this turned out to be worse…I almost fell on a 10 odd year old boy peeing in a mug under the benevolent gaze of his daddy dearest.
Some people find pissing kids in situations where others find true love.

Why can’t I find a Raj / Aditya on the railway? (Enter leitmotif tune from DDlJ / Jab We Met)
Why can’t the Indian Railways be like Eurail?
Is Mamta Banerjee listening?

Afterthought 1: Does Mamta Banerjee know what Eurail is??
Afterthought 2: Does she read my blog??
Afterthought 3: Does she know what a blog is?? (Fade out leitmotif tune from DDLJ / Jab We Met)

*sigh*

And well while I am at it I could also research “The general effects of the Indian General Elections on my general life and not so general marriage.”

Once upon a time in a socio pass class…3 gals trying their hands at poetry (each line is by a different person)

(I have put room cleaning on hold, which is happening because I am “organizing notes” to study for an upcoming entrance exam, to write this post…don’t worry you will get this statement when you read it again…The contents of an a4 paper tucked away in one of my college note books…)


Yeh mausam yeh sama
Tum kahan hum kahan
Tum mere paas main tumhare paas
Aur main bhi to exist karti hoon yaar

Yeh jyaada hai cool
Hum sab hain nanhe nanhe phool
Kelvinator jyaada acha hai ki whirlpool

Kambakht bearish kab hogi (it must have been summer so this HAS TO be me)
Jab bhi hogi manjoore khuda hogi

Yeh lamhe yeh pal hum barso yaad karange (plagiarism is not looked down upon by us)
Bodhi ka face bilkul blackboard jaisa hai yeh hum kahange
Hone hone de nasha hone hone deh mazaa
Are yeh toh abhishek ka line hona chahiye tha

Array kuch bolo koi
Bolenge toh likhogi nahin
Kaaj nahi toh bhajbo khoi
This is amazing nai?

Yaar hum toh shayaar banege
Kya kya kaam karenge
Aise hi toh bante hain records naye

That’s how records came
This is one cool game
What do you want to be blind, deaf or lame?
Whatever but no one wants to be the same.

Chalo kuch naya karte hain
Pass classes kuch kam attend karte hain (I personally had about 80 % attendance in pass classes our classes were so few and far between that it was a welcome respite from being vela hey MS word accepts “vela” cool)

Yaar kitna lamba process hai
Apna idea super success hai (the idea that the three of us should together writ a poetry)
Poora poem phir se padhte hain
Chalo ab “psycho” ke taraf bdhte hain (this means that this was a Saturday afternoon since we have a screening class)

After this we somehow lose our rhyming scheme

Who is singing?
Anandita, Radhika and co.
He will not listen to me (the guy in question must be “B”..this also rhyme :D)
He is like that you see

When will psycho start?
Start ek baar ho chukka hai :P

Colour man colour man which colour do you choose (this is because of the colour bar I guess)
Blue Blue Blue (this has to be “A”)


Koi kuch toh bolo yaar

Individual contributors are welcome to claim credit for their respective lines preferably in the comments section or continue the poem. *wipes a tear*

I want a hug from Santa Claus....i am on the good girls list i think(hope)

good to be missed i will post again once my life is directionless again...its only bloggers who will understand what i mean

i want the power to end this world .....

i want to end this world...

stand on the moon with fire fighting equipment and douse this planet

all we were supposed to was find THE QUESTION and if "how many paths should a person walk" ain't good enough then go screw yourselves out of existence. SHUT DOWN ... may be its virus infested now and just refuses to shut down

Count your blessings someone said.

i can't count as much.

Prasoon Joshi summed it up in one statement... college ke gate ke is taraf hum zindagi ko nachate hai…college ke gate ke us taraf zindagi hume naachati hai…tim lakha lakha tim…

college is officially over…well college was never about ‘officiality’ …more about having your asses glued to the marble steps…discussing such burning issues as the deteriorating taste of maggi/sexual orientation of the various fathers, foes, fauna, flora residing in college…debating animal grunts…one bunch of people trying to convince another that they are actually birds/reptiles/rock stars/wannabes??? The other bunch convinced that they are wizards/witches…trying to cast spells with wannabe wands (actually a branch from a dead tree)….infatuations….heart breaks….green benches…pictionary…screw(a card game lest you get ideas)…having the VP suspended(you read that right )… the same VP calling us ‘chowkidars’….bank steps…chinese whisper… *SIGH*(make that three times)

This was written on the 25th of Feb this year.

I have not changed but I am not the same anymore.

Some evening in August end when a lot of people were burning candles for a lot of lives lost…I sat on my favorite step lamenting the loss of my life (I take liberties to be selfish)…my life like it used to be on that very step just four months ago. Tears streaming down…four months back I would have never believed that I could cry on that step…that step where I discovered white wine with YOU. (I do not know why I choose to say this of all things that have happened there…I will not recount…for the sake of my tears if not for the sacredness of the memories)… I walked the whole delights classic store nature park lane…college DOES look beautiful at night. The darwaan recognized me…it felt good

I am still stuck in the May of 2008… dates and months have changed but time has not. It still feels like summer break will end and I will wear my Pink and go to college. Hug all sit on the step and curse one and all in general. I don’t discriminate model of self righteousness that I am :. The CLASSIC STEP moments.



A lot went unsaid this year… sometimes because I saw better, sometimes cause my vocal chords repulsed in self pity and sometimes my brain was too preoccupied with “how did I get here in life where this needs to be said” losing a little of me each time…I will say all that now…I need to

...I am not a fucking slut (that’s how you stylized it)…at least not because we fell apart.

…I feel too sorry for you to be angry anymore… you sacrifice too much for ego

…Friendship might get wasted on you…at least it’s worth it.

…No it’s not my fault…I do have the right to withdraw when my world fell apart…if I was retreating why couldn't you take that one step forward.

…I am sorry you broke your word…just very very sorry.

…till just four months back I lived on the sets of a romcom… what genre is my life now???

…“Dreams” was very aptly named dreams…it seems like a dream now.

…What am I supposed to do when one of you is thinks about checking for HIV…one is neck deep in self pity and wants to dope…does anyone remember I detest change… what about me…where should I stand or kneel or crawl in all this from 2000 KM away

I want to run away to find the conjunctions of my fragmented sentences and my fragmented life. I really wish I felt nothing. It is so much easier to be an android or better “anonymous”...take the tube to work read a book watch movies eat out…and have no “internal life”, things that go on inside you.



I have never wanted a year to end so much….even if the statement is grammatically dented get the drift.

I fully comprehend Holden Caulfield…now… two years later.

In response to the tag dated 25th October

Dear Dreamy
Sorry for sadness and discomfort : : :

I have been extremely busy working hard (read hardly working) yeah with a boss who lets me come in at 1:30 :D

Okay so the tag requires one to write six quirks about oneself…somehow I feel that six is too small a number.

1) I do not (repeat word) find John Abraham good looking. In fact I am thoroughly bemused and exorbitantly confused about this whole phenomenon of beefy expressionless men being found attractive

2) I don’t like chocolates. Take deep breaths and count to five. Any questions pertaining to the authenticity of my declared gender will not be entertained.

3) I believe in the existence of true love. The “till death do us apart” variety. I read a lot of literature of the romantic era that blew up all the tenets of “real life”. Also I just realized why I have never been in love.

4) I feel that roses are overrated. I mean whoever decided that roses should symbolize love when the same task could have been handed over to the more deserving orchids or lilies. I strongly oppose this floral discrimination.

5) I just simply find it impossible to move on. I am absolutely capable of all other kind of movements but “moving on” is a different kind of movement all together. This makes me realize that I would be a very appropriate choice for Fevicol’s brand ambassador. My quirks are commercially viable.

6) I look like a distorted ogre in my photos and I hate being photographed.

There you go you now know why I should be caged and studied and used as examples in books of psychiatry. A lot of people give credit to their schools and colleges for their current situations I however accredit glass doors. Yes ladies and gentlemen I am what I am because of glass doors and walking into too many of them.

P.S: This does not contain anything about exams because I am still a neat 6 months away from them.