I Am A Rock

A cyclonic circulation is what is responsible for the city being held hostage by rain.

The stock market has showed an uncharacteristically uplifting upward urge for a Monday.

Claude Monet is set to be finally given a major exhibition in Paris.

Those are just headlines. This is my life. I find solace in Simon and Garfunkel at the oddest of times, in the oddest of songs. Not that I am feeling particularly petulant, but a certain train of thought set off a certain flurry of emotions and swept me right off my balance. It is rather peculiar how something that you don't normally think of at most times suddenly pops up inside your head and dictates how you feel for the rest of the day. I'd say that it's as bad as how uncomfortable you get when you suddenly remember that you've forgotten to brush and squirm wondering whether your breath stinks.

Funnily enough, I am feeling far more flaccid in terms of thoughts. Yet, there is this strange pull tugging at my consciousness and making me want to sit and brood. Do we all go through phases when we want to shut out those we love and just stay isolated, like an island? I'm not sure whether my own responses can be considered normal. I've almost always been the loner, and liked it that way. Nevertheless, recently at least, I haven't really felt the urge to shut shop and withdraw all that often.

Today, for some reason, I want to let all the sarcasm out, all the nastiness, and most importantly, all the feelings of sheer sordidness that are still trapped somewhere within. Then again, it could also be that I'm hungry... and too hungry to realize just how much.

The mundane part about it all is that I'm in the middle of exams and all that is frustrating about life is suddenly doing a bold tango before my eyes. It's only a few more days, but although the rational side of me is patiently waiting for the next Act to unfurl, the more human part of me just wants to jump out of my seat!

Perhaps it would have been better if I had indeed been a rock. "A rock feels no pain". Neither does it have to sit for sinfully squalid semester exams (or Mid-semester ones at that). I presume things are building up since I've been purposely starving myself of things I love doing (and even I don't know why I do that). 

Or maybe I just need to switch to another song.

Another New Dawn

Date: 06.01.2009
Time: 7:50 p.m.

Today was the first hectic day of many hectic days my class has in store for itself this semester. Honestly, this is one term which is somewhat scaring people with the amount of coursework right from day one. Usually, extra classes are squeezed into our schedule as the weeks go by, thereby softening the blow. This time, however, when I saw the timetable for the first time last night I was tempted to hurl the coarsest of all abuses, the kind that auto-wallas would probably be using a lot these days, at the computer screen. “Saala ch*****” would be one of the tamer ones that crossed my mind.

It seems a major strain to wake up at the unearthly hour of a quarter past seven in the morning after consistently awakening at ten regardless of the time I had gone to sleep the previous night for a rather warmly comfortable stretch of days. Still, it wouldn’t be quite so bad if I didn’t have a string of classes that tax my ability to concentrate at a stretch to wake up to every day.

The year itself started a day late for me. The time immediately before and after the last midnight of 2008 was rather dismal. Although, things have improved considerably since, excluding the rotten timetable of course. In fact, my writing has suffered — I am usually compelled to write when I am either extremely bored or extremely depressed while I am neither right now. I shouldn’t be complaining though… there’s plenty to do.

I’ve been watching a lot of movies at home lately, with more queued up in my viewing list. There is the two-day out of station seminar that my class and seniors will be attending in a couple of days. Our professors appear to have resigned themselves to the fact that we’re out to enjoy ourselves more than pay attention to what will be said there. I have deliciously spicy, creamy and cheesy macaroni to eat for dinner and there are some (hopefully) interesting events to look forward to later this month and in the coming year.

I am hoping for this year to teach me a lot of lessons that I will enjoy learning for a change, those of patience and self-control especially. And I hope to grow up a little more from six to thirteen, at least. Although I am sure that I’ll be fluctuating between almost all ages from six to sixty at different points of time. It doesn’t matter too much though. I just hope I won’t be told that I look like a seventh grader by the odd ancient stranger I meet at boring social functions.

So to all readers I wish a late but very happy new year! LD out.

End: 8:10 p.m.

For The Love Of Plagiarism

Winter is supposedly the most romantic of all seasons. I say this here since romance is apparently an excellent muse for many a person. Now whether the prose or poetic outburst that comes forth a person's pen is indeed worthy of the term ‘literature’ is often debatable and I am quite the snob when it comes to this as I’m not easily impressed. But the point I’m trying to make is this. Normally, a person inspired by winter would speak of his or her own feelings, thoughts or musings, ‘own’ being the keyword here. I mean, honestly, if you cannot write original stuff, don’t. No one is forcing you.

I wonder if this is the season to plagiarize other people’s work. In that case Christmas carols should be re-written this way:
“It’s the season to be a plagiarist
Tra la la la la, la la la la
Let me copy another’s original work
Tra la la la la, la la la la,
Pass it off as my own and think I’m smart
Tra la la, la la la, la la la
Considering myself to be the best writer in the world
Tra la la la la, la la la la.”

Ship posted last night about how she found two amazingly talented people from dA being ripped off by a blogger. This afternoon, having had the chance to finally use Broadband, I decided to go look in on the blogs of all those who have commented on my posts recently, especially since I hadn’t been able to blog-crawl much of late. Now imagine my surprise when my first visit to a classmate’s blog (a classmate, mind you, WTF!) had me spot a line I had written in Sunset sometime back in October in her most recent post. It wasn’t ripped off exactly but my own: “I don’t know if it was our condition affecting our senses or whether winter had really decided one morning that it would visit us early” got changed to: “It is as if Winter woke up one morning and decided to visit us early this time” by her in a post she calls fiction. And she happens to have commented on that very post of mine.

I was much too angry to go through the rest of her blog and my net connection had to go off the very moment I was about to comment asking her what she was doing copying my work. Talk about timing. Isn’t it the funniest thing you’ve ever heard? I mean, I’m laughing about this now in an oddly ironic way and I suppose I should be complimented. But there is a copyright on all my work published in this blog and I will certainly not have people steal things from me, no matter who they are!

It is hardly fair on the writer, isn’t it? A person’s original creative endeavours should not be copied without mention. It’s nothing short of thievery. I’ll think up something (on my own, thank you, since I arrogantly believe that I can think for myself) and another person passes it off as her own, that too without even crediting me. Where is the justice in that? It is something only a petty common thief would do. And this would just be one case that has come to my notice.

I have asked the person concerned to come and have a look at this post. Hopefully, such an incident will not be repeated. There will be worse repercussions otherwise and this is no idle warning. No one steals my work, not even a line... no one.

Identity Crisis

According to Google, creating a new email address is a piece of cake. My little brother (who is now not-so-little-and-is-taller-than-me-damn-him) would beg to differ though, since the two of us spent the entire evening thinking of a username for him. As he was reluctant to use his own name, we had to come up with something that had not been taken already in the long-enough-relative-to-Internet-time history of Google. And that, my dear friends appeared quite the Herculean task.

My brother insisted on suggesting the most trite of all possible usernames, inspired by his limited creativity and gaming and TV (anime mostly) influences, which, staying true to the spirit of collectivism spread throughout the world when it comes to originality, were already taken. A list of some of the names tried out that I happen to remember at the moment is given below. Please feel free to laugh your backsides off at appropriate (and inappropriate) moments.

catseye : Taken
(For some reason, my brother showed a sudden feline influence in his taste)
straycat : Taken
(The poor kid had really wanted this. *Grins evilly*)
stinkykitty : Taken
(This was suggested by me owing to certain odours being emitted by the person involved)
stinkykitteh : Available
(A variation based on LOLCats which my brother wanted to murder me about)
mybrotherisakitty : Available
(The above reaction was repeated again)

stupidlittlearse : Taken
(A rather surprising revelation, when we decided to indulge in profanities)
aceoffarts : Taken
(Another surprise, for obvious reasons)
aceofasses : Available
(A relief, of sorts, but the little chicken was too scared of what mummy would say although it was his decision that we try this out :P)
motorfart : Available
(A suggestion of mine which induced much laughter in us toilet-humour-driven souls, although it did not seem like an appropriate ID)
constipation : Taken
(Lo and behold! Weren't we surprised! And amused. xD)
idonthaveabackside : Available
(Thankfully. Yet, my brother found that he could not relate very well to this)
idonthaveanarse : Available
(We tried this one out for the sake of variety. It was discarded for the same lack of empathy)
shittykitty : No suggestions from Google
(They probably thought it way too inappropriate)
noreturntype : Available
(A suggestion of mine that the kid didn't like. The idiot)
nomorepoo : Taken
(More shocking revelations unfold! The Internet has too many similar minded perverts (ab)using it)
nomoretoilethumour : Available
(A product of sheer frustration on my part. It was scapped, most regretfully, in spite of its strong social comment)

thinkofsomething : Taken
(My brother's heartfelt plea to me)
numberXIII : Taken
(The chap could come up with nothing better on his own. *Shakes head regretfully*)
ihopenot : Available
(My response to the above suggestion)
thecatoftoday : Taken
(This would be the kid reverting to I-want-a-feline-ID mode)
darkraven : Taken
(Duh. I had told him it would be)
strawberryjam : Taken
(He wanted to kill me again after this one)
pikachu : Taken
(I wanted to kill him, after this)
To which, my brother suggested: "Pikapika?"
And my response was: X(

raisedeyebrow : Taken
(Sad, but)
skinnyarse : Taken
(I had a feeling it would be, but we laughed disgustingly nevertheless)
swelteringsands : Available
(I liked this one, but that fool did not. Still, IT SHALL BE MY USERNAME ONE DAY. NO ONE HAD BETTER STEAL IT, I AM WARNING YOU!!!!)
stinkysands : Available
(But then, my brother got insulted)

By this time I had suggested he try some of the word verifications that had made themselves visible to us: lentusil, tionotomm and mattassorse. But he disliked the idea. Meh.

We also tried these out...
soulpiper : Taken
(Hah. It would be)
soulreaper : Taken
(Double hah from my side)
sourfish : Taken
(Ok, I was amused)
sideprofile : Available!
(I had really really liked this one. *Sigh* NO ONE HAD BETTER STEAL THIS ONE EITHER)
dumbduck : Taken
(A product of my frustration at my brother not liking the previous one)
catmusic : Taken
(I had told him. The idiot never listens)
catastrophic : Taken
(Cliche, cliche, cliche, I had said)

iatemyowndna : AVAILABLE
(My own creative masterpiece, the virtues of which were woefully ignored)
sociozoid: Available
(My brother's stewed brain came up with this)
Inflated with the "Available" status, he suggested: flairazoid
To which I replied: That is STUPID! It sounds like a Pokemon! *shudder*
flamesoftime : Taken
(A sigh from him)
gigafire : Taken
(Another sigh from him)

And by then I was extremely annoyed with him and gave him an extremely filthy look when he suggested, "Terrorist?"
I responded with "vegetablepot", which was available.

Finally, the chap came up with something decent that was available, which I will not mention here, and created his account. I just want to mention this... whoever said that creating an email ID is easy, lied big time.

Sluggish Syndrome

Date: 30.06.2008
Time: 12:06 p.m.

It should be a cardinal sin of nature’s to have grogginess be the after-effect of too much sleep. Sleep is (usually) peaceful, sleep is healing. So then why should oversleeping till eleven in the morning after eating ice-cream before going to bed the previous night lead to my waking up in full dispossession of all my senses? It is unfair, I tell you! Even now, as I am writing this out, after being awake, albeit only partially, for over an hour, I am just as close to being aware of my surroundings as a well-oiled pumpkin which has no business being coated with sunflower oil (of all things) in the first place, when it is unwittingly hurled into the firmament by a delinquent child who did not wish to be made to eat raw oiled pumpkin for supper.

That along with the fact that I am feeling incredibly lethargic, even more that my usual high standards of laziness and indolence, goes to say that it is extremely unethical to deny an insomniac the joy of making up for many hours of lost sleep. And that would be the sole reason for this outburst of mine, as I contemplate my position in the Universe in-between sneezing fits that last for more than fifteen sneezes per fit. Maybe I’m just coming down with a cold. Maybe I already have a cold. Or perhaps this could be another way for the world to tell me that there is nothing truly wrong with me and that all will be fine in the morning and that there is ‘no place like home’. Who knows? I certainly don’t, and can’t pretend to be the Holder-of-Knowledge-I-don’t-possess!

I have been going over a lot of songs that I’ve been listening to recently. Mentally, that is (no pun intended).These keep playing over and over inside my head with the correct lyrics and spacing of musical arrangements even though I am convinced that half the time I’m only making up the words. This must be a seasonal affliction as I recall experiencing the same phenomenon regularly over the period of last year, and the year before and many other years before that year that I cannot possibly be expected to keep track of, especially since I’m already overstretching my mental capacities by remembering the lyrics of my favourite songs.

It has been raining all morning and the weather is a lovely excuse to go outside and enjoy the abundance of the elixir of (my) life all over the streets and buildings and beloved trees. I meant water, for those yet uninitiated into my propensity for drinking water at every chance I get. It’s mainly a part of my initiative to enjoy this precious liquid to its full extent as long as it is available, before it is unparliamentarily destroyed by environmental pollution. See? I am such a concerned global citizen. Membership to this club of mine, the one that advocates drinking water to one’s heart’s content is open to all and sundry!

Now that I am almost completely awake and aware enough to notice the twitching of my nose at the slightest hint of dust, I feel ready to launch my plans of taking over the world. This will begin with my attack on the bed in which I was hitherto sleeping, lying down, resting, curled up, and also indulging in a variety of other somnolent postures. Since I have kept my room somewhat neat and orderly for the last few days, I must maintain these lofty human ideals and make my bed. It is a task that requires utmost concentration available to mankind and the greatest of energies that my limbs possess. Having said all that I must depart the realm of my scattered thoughts and bid a teary goodbye to my wordy-friends as I go forth and conquer the Universe. Maow!

End: 12:38 p.m.

Some Whine

It is not funny at all when boredom is all you can write about. Watching lizards crawl up walls isn’t very amusing either. And the fact that there seem to be no cute and tiny spiders around doesn’t improve things much. Life is hard at such times, and I find myself wasting the entire day instead of going through stuff I need for the exam I have on Monday. Yes, my exams still aren’t over, even though I spent the entire week sitting for four hour long papers in the heat. It’s almost as though they’ve decided to behave like guests who come for a day’s visit with that visit stretching on for weeks. Heartless, absolutely.

And therefore, I am left with no choice but to pace restlessly about my room, drink lots of water and sing songs meowing like a cat. Oh and I’ve also been indulging in a bit of a capella. Now that is fun, although having an endless stretch of exams is not.

I know I am whining, but well, I have nothing else to do at the moment. (Except study, of course, but that doesn’t count, to be very honest). I’m hoping that Uncyclopedia or Cyanide and Happiness will offer some inspiration from mirth so that I may laugh my way to sleep. Have I ever mentioned how absolutely addictive laughter is? I think I might have...

I’d wanted to eat ice-cream today. Le sigh. Oh well, I shall have my fill of funny dessert pretty soon, oh yes! I’m wondering how to spend the rest of the evening, though. Suggestions, anyone?

RANT

I need to vent! I 've been sick for five days and nothing seems to be getting better. This is so bloody frustrating! First there's dehydration, then cramps, the day after, a stomach upset and sore throat, the next day, an even sorer throat, a cold and fever, and an eye infection after that. I AM FED UP. I'm coughing my lungs out and it is ANNOYING ME that I am SPREADING MY SICK GERMS EVERYWHERE!

One minute, I'm hyperactive and the other I'm so tired that I could just collapse on the bleeding bed and fall asleep. It's sickening, utterly and completely sickening.

And the fact that my creativity has gone for ride to some strange place I shall never know is not helping either. BLOODY BLOODY BLOODY BACTERIA. I hate all of them and their tiny intricate mechanisms for bringing about ruin! GO HANG AND ROT AND CEASE TO EXIST ALL OF YOU.

I really really really cannot take this right now. ARGH. I'm so frustrated that I might actually cry.

Examinee Instinct

Suddenly something has happened to me
As I was sitting down to study
Suddenly I am feeling oppressed
I am utterly and totally stressed
Do you know tests make me cry?
Do you know tests make me die?
And the thing that gets to me
Is that nobody will see
And the thing that freaks me out
Is that I'm always in doubt.
Is this the worst thing that I have?
Is this the worst thing that could be?
It is the worst thing, the examinee ...
The examinee instinct!

*whoo-hoo-ing*
*guitar sequence*

So drop those books and come with me
For I must change reality
So drop those notes and we will pray
That the exams go away
They will never make me cry
They will never make me die
And the thing that gets to me
Is that nobody will see
And the thing that freaks me out
Is that I'm always in doubt.

The examinee, the examinee, the examinee instinct in me
It's the examinee, the examinee, the examinee instinct in me
It's the examinee, the examinee, the examinee instinct in me.

*repeat twice*
*guitar sequence*

*The End and some Applause Hopefully :P*

For Tomorrow

1. Wake up. Tear myself away from lala-land for another day to begin the process of getting bored.
2. Go buy shampoo. Wash my hands whenever I feel the need to.
3. Brush my teeth and eat breakfast before setting out on my quest to seek shampoo.
4. Manage my account and make a note of expenses.
5. Get started on writing ‘Ode to the Chicken’, although I’m not quite sure what I shall actually be writing. I suppose I could procrastinate a bit too.
6. Complain a bit about the weather getting warmer to the patient walls of my room and brood about the withdrawing winter.
7. Mull over and experience the numerous ways of being defeated by boredom while appearing to win the battle against it.
8. Make that phone-call pertaining to transportation arrangements for Tuesday.
9. Listlessly pace about my room.
10. Listen to music. Loudly. Drool over guitar sequences and piano pieces.
11. Contemplate writing a love poem dedicated to music and my intensely passionate and profound adoration for it.
12. Reject the idea for the sake of standards.
13. Daydream a bit about nothing in particular.
14. Be amused by the irony of being jobless on a holiday and not enjoying the lack of work and the monotony.
15. Think sarcastic thoughts.
16. Speak sarcastic sentences.
17. Laugh like a lunatic for no reason in particular.
18. Finally tidy my cupboard. *Groan*
19. Overdose on chocolates or biscuits (whatever I get hold of) till I get a tummy-ache.
20. Try my best to fall asleep at night.

Not

Life is so peachy. It rocks big time. I love everything. Wow. I am in a wonderful mood in spite of learning that I have more examinations to sit for. Of course I am not being sarcastic. Sarcastic? Who, me? You must be out of your mind!

Why would a person like me with such an interesting life ever have to resort to sarcasm to make things more interesting for her? I am telling you, I am such a social butterfly! I simply cannot live without socialising every single hour of the day. I would never have to bother with silly trivialities such as talking to myself to keep me company. And did I ever mention how much I enjoy the fact that each day of my existence is remarkably different from the other days? I might have, I think ... once, or twice, or perhaps even a hundred times since it is a veritable truth.

Like I said, life is brilliant at the moment. In fact, it simply could not have been better. I am such a happy person, aren’t I? I’d stun everyone with the intensity of my vibrant smile — one that I am flashing almost constantly. No, seriously, my face hurts from all that smiling. It does, really.

At the moment, I feel like the most positive person on the planet. I could clap and sing and dance to express my joy. Brilliant, right? Yes. Very.

Not.

A Window to my World [V]

Oh well, I have been terribly bored and the best way I know to kill boredom is just go and furiously type/write whatever comes to my mind. I’m not going to use “real” stationery today since I don’t wish to infect my beloved violet ink pen with any of those stupid viruses (of two different species, I am certain) and some bacteria that have been have been harassing me of late. However I don’t wish to be boring as well by forcing people to read my rants about multiple micro-organisms. I don’t even know how I manage to alliterate when I am annoyed! I mean, I can alliterate alarmingly almost always, even when I am particularly bugged. Sometimes, I don’t even notice it.

I don’t even know why I am digressing from morbidly menacing micro-organisms to my alliterating abnormality. I suppose it just goes to show how beautifully bored I am. My head and my left eye especially (which has a rather nice blood clot that is hidden from normal view at its upper left) hurt, I have been snivelling all day in spite of actually remembering to consume cough-syrup and my brother sat on a safety-pin today and was too embarrassed to mention the possibility of his rear-end bleeding to anyone. What, I ask is wrong with the world? Nothing, I suppose. Nothing apart from the fact that it is a world that needs chaos, a world that needs people to act stupidly instead of listening to reason or being reasonable, a world that needs all the evils imaginable to avoid being monotonously mundane; and there again, it doesn’t always succeed.

My parents were actually sitting and watching “Flash Gordon” this afternoon. And when I walked in and scoffed at a particularly melodramatic scene, my mother coolly commented that had I been five and watching it I’d have loved it too. This made absolutely no sense to me. Sometimes I wonder whether I have inherited my madness from her. Perhaps it is not induced after all. Oh well, I am rambling yet again.

Being stuck inside for three days can definitely ensure that you end up being excessively snarky to people around you. Oh yes, I have been very sarcastic, so much so that I am sure that there have been moments when my parents have actually considered cannibalism when it came to dealing with me. And of course, it is quite obviously a whole lot of fun when your younger sibling decides to make an extra effort at annoying you while you are in no mood to snap back. Oh well, my mother commented that I seemed like myself today. When I asked, “How so?” she merely replied, “You seem more aggressive.” Mothers. Gah.

I want to go outside and do something. Anything! While the fact that my head and eyes hurt is sort of nice, I doubt that I enjoy remaining confined much. Oh well, I have ranted enough. This is another disgusting and trivial post to be washed down the dreadful drain that is my blog. Forgive me for not being sweet and kind and humorous or any other admirable adjective. I was never any of those. Meh.

PS: And now, my brother is down with it as well. First I give my dad the infection and he starts looking like an angry alien villain from some horror movie. Now, it is my brother. GAH. I feel unclean. Yes.

Adventures of the Snivelling Skylark

Who would’ve thought that crossing a short street can be such a pain! I had a tough time guarding my ‘precious’ while navigating my way through a maze consisting of painfully noisy and pungently smoky vehicles this evening. My walk was further complicated by my nose which was running the 100 metre Olympic, a feat that could quite easily lead to my being re-christened “Snivelling Skylark”. And why am I going backwards while narrating the events that took place today? Oh well, R-E-W-I-N-D!

To begin, I’d have to mention that I woke up. Yes. Awakened. Stopped dreaming. Opened my eyes to look at the ceiling. Whichever you please. And I was not very well, to put things mildly. However I had a certain commitment to keep later during the day, which was why I was quite keen on getting better. I consumed organic matter which humans consume for the sake of sustenance and decided to wait till I felt a bit better instead of striding towards my destination right away. This did help. Slightly. And so my attempt at reaching my destination alive proved to be a successful endeavour.

Ordinary occurrences took place. Although I learnt that I had missed out on some delicious spring rolls. Le sigh. And these lines probably make no sense whatsoever. I am weird. So what I write or say is not likely to make much sense. Le shrug. I also witnessed the shortest ‘seminar’ in the history of mankind (what a relief!) and then, er, had quite a good time at a programme that was postponed by a week and held today. My ‘precious’ looked an absolute beauty and created sound that was quite literally music to my ears. I was amongst some very talented people and was requested to play Für Elise at the end of the programme. Which I did. And had an overenthusiastic ‘congratulator’ hug me. (O_o ... :P). And apparently also had VB in tears. (:o I know I didn't play that badly; perhaps she is being autistic today). Things could have been worse, I suppose. I mean, I made two mistakes while playing the second song. I could have sounded worse than I actually did. Le long-drawn-sigh.

After that, I walked down a short street and then a longer one and then stood there waiting for my mode of transport. For quite a long time. With my ‘precious’ in tow. Funny people wondered what I was carrying in a large, black, apparently-heavy (note keyword: apparently), rectangular bag. I looked at those sorry creatures in disdain. They knew not that it contained my ‘precious’. Oh well, their loss, I’d say. Although I’d have been gladder had certain careless women carrying large shopping bags had not brushed their impure articles against my ‘precious’.

I am in a talkative mood at present. Which is a pity since my snivelling situation shall probably not allow me to sound like anything other than a cracked blow-horn which has been poorly transfigured into a violin, which has been unequally broken into three fragments. I would feel guilty inflicting such pain on other people’s hearing devices by speaking to them. Shut up, I must, in that case. And so, I will and hope that I am better tomorrow.

Attack of the Egregious Egret!

12:15 p.m.

Mr. Bean: (while discussing some rot which no one was paying attention to anyway) “Have any of you got cats as pets?”

LD: (muttering under her breath) “I have a pet brother! Does that count?”

DM: (looking and pointing at LD in a mousy manner) “She is one.”

Mr. Bean: “Cats do not have a mechanism for the removal of paracetamol. So, if your cat gets fever and you give it paracetamol it will accumulate in its body ultimately killing off your cat.”

The above words are spoken with a happy and satisfied smile, and the sentence is finished off with a grin.

DM: “He’s smiling! What kind of a person is he? A sadist?”

VB: (grimly) “I’m going to report him to PETA.”

LD: (thinks) ‘GAH! And what is the connection between membrane proteins and cats dying of paracetamol? I decide to pay attention for once and this is what happens! Meh.’

Mr. Bean continues to speak in a language that only gerbils can comprehend correctly while the animal activists get back to their state of well-cultivated ennui.

12:25 p.m.

The class has ended. People are happy. Then, out of nowhere …

Mr. Bean: “How many of you have seen Star Wars, the so called new episodes?”

LD jumps up and down in her seat. She is very excited. Her hand shoots up into the air from the last row. Her hand is the only one up.

Mr. Bean: “Well, there are some people called the Yay-dhee …”

LD: “Jedi!”

Mr. Bean: “… Yay-dhee who have this power to do things … They have something called ‘midhichlorian’, which helps them become Yay-dhee…”

LD: (very agitated) “It’s JEDI!”

Mr. Bean: (continuing in spite of the lack of enthusiasm from most of the class and death-glares from one agitated member) “How many of you have seen the original trilogy?”

LD and VB raise their hands. LD starts mentally ticking off the names one by one.

LD: (happily) “A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi …”

Mr. Bean: (ignoring everyone else) “After the success of these, George Lucas became very influenced by science fiction.”

LD: (mouth hanging open) “…”

DM: (insinuatingly) “How come you didn’t know that? You pseudo!”

LD growls.

Mr. Bean: “The original Yay-dhee …”

LD: (interjecting) “JEDI!!!”

Mr. Bean: “… was Luke Skywalker…”

LD smiles at the mention of the name as it reminds her of uber-cool action sequences involving the said person. She even forgives the speaker the error of calling Luke Skywalker the “original Yay-dhee”.

Mr. Bean: (smiling foolishly by this time) “… and yes, in the new ones it was Anakin Skywalker before he became Darth Bhay-darr.”

LD: (thundering) “VADER!!!”

LD starts shaking visibly and keeps sending death-glares to the blasphemous person. A disturbance can be felt in the Force. LD is then asked to control herself by DM.

LD: “Blah!”

Stooopeed Cow!

There is a cow honking or mooing or whatever it is that cows do, outside my window! And there is immense noise pollution from the numerous cars, lorries, autos and what-nots out on the roads. And I simply love it when the drivers of these vehicles decide to keep honking and honking and honking and honking and honking and honking, prolonging their use of the honking horn and drowning out even Metallica and causing permanent damage to my ear drums. It is such a happy feeling! Stooopeed cow! Mesa hates you! Go! Away, away! Mesa wants to listen to music! Now there is a parent discussing the Joint Entrance Examination results of her offspring in an overly loud and pompous voice so that the whole world can find out that she took the trouble of getting up at three a.m. every morning to make her child coffee so that the said child could study. Argh. Mesa annoyed by you too! Mesa not want to know means of studying for the Joint Exasperating Exercise, especially if it involves waking up at three a.m. and studying. The cow has finally gone. And so has the over-enthusiastic parent. I need to drink water now. Mesa loves drinking water. Water is good, yes. Very good. Another loud vehicle! *Growls in anger* *Glares at perpetrator of aforementioned crime* Blow up! NOW! And the cow is back! *Le sigh*

Peskipiksie Pesternomi

Date: 27.06.2007
Time: 7:40 a.m.

On certain days, when you find that everything is going against you and that the technology you depend on appears to be jinxed and non functional, what do you feel? I feel angry, very angry … and extremely frustrated. The by-line for the Reliance data-card says, ‘Take the internet with you wherever you go’. I would know that by heart since I spent most of last night glaring at it hoping to make it explode by just looking at it. Well, I didn’t go anywhere. I was in my room. All that I was asking for was a decent Internet connection which would not get disconnected every five minutes or so. But no … That is not acceptable for the Reliance bloody-git-of-a-card. In spite of trying repeatedly from nine o’ clock to twelve o’ clock, I DID NOT GET CONNECTED.

To my further annoyance, we also happened to have a power-cut which lasted from half past nine to half past ten. It wasn’t for a very long duration compared to some other ‘famous’ power-cuts that we’ve had lately, but it was still very, very infuriating, especially because it was a rather warm evening and I had showered only a while earlier. I feel like issuing a warning to the Electricity Department. I watch TV on Wednesdays only. For two hours, I recline on the rocking chair (if my mother fails to shove me off it, that is) and indulge in the pleasure of watching the rather complicated lives of fictional characters unravel onscreen. If, there happens to be a power-cut again, especially at nine o’ clock, a certain young person who is not yet legally responsible for her actions is going to be rather annoyed and might just end up hurting some fellow human beings. You have been warned, ED.

Another irking incident that took place last evening was that my father had forgotten to scan the last Thank You card I had made. It had actually turned out a whole lot better than the others. Now it’s gone — forever … I really dislike giving away any art-work of mine, however horrible it might be. I remember that at the height of the Football World Cup 2002, I had painted a picture showing a match taking place. That painting had looked rather good. It was as though the figures were actually moving. And then, I had to submit it for my Art Exam. Damn. I never saw that picture again … Le sigh.

I was in my ‘hyper loopy’ state all evening and some songs kept on playing over and over again inside my head. It was as though I had an mp3 player instead of a brain enclosed in my cranium. Things stayed that way throughout the night and I had a lot of trouble falling asleep. It is rather difficult to go off to la la land if you keep hearing It’s My Life, How You Remind Me or even Sweet Child Of Mine playing away to glory in the background.

I have not been inspired enough for a poem in ages. I mean, I can feel a poem coming when I am in the bathroom, where there isn’t a pen in sight. However, the moment I step out and grab the nearest pen or pencil, the words which I had been muttering under my breath till then, simply disappear and I cannot remember any of it. I can find no logical explanation for this occurrence apart from my hypothesis that I shall be taken by Alzheimer’s very soon.

This morning, I happened to wake up at six in the morning. SIX! I am truly scaring myself these days. Anyway, the first thing (or I should say, things) I saw on waking up were two lizards getting very, er, friendly with each other on one of the walls of my room. Gross! This is why I simply cannot make myself like lizards. I mean, I have no problems which the other members of the Animal Kingdom. Cockroaches can be amusing to watch and even more amusing to extract striated muscles from during Biology practical classes. Spiders are cute. Rats are loads of fun to dissect, especially since you can gross out classmates by showing them the small intestine of a rat and commenting rather nonchalantly that it resembles chicken noodles, which have just been consumed for lunch. Other creatures of the natural world have their virtues. However, I cannot forgive lizards. These infinitely stupid creatures should know better than to get fresh with each other in my room!

Since I am on a full-fledged rant, I might as well mention another major bug-bear. Very sadly, I do not look my age. I’d say I look as though I am in class XI. I’d even be willing to stretch that to class X. And sometimes, when I am feeling particularly benevolent, I would let a comment that I look as though I am in class IX pass with minimal twitching of my face. However if people choose to tell me that I look even younger than that, I get quite peeved. A few weeks back, when I went to get a blood test done, the man who extracted my blood remarked that I looked as though I were in class V or VI … V or VI! That had incensed me greatly and I had given him my famous F.O.D. glare before leaving.

Ah well. It feels good to have all of this out of my system. Perhaps it will make my mind ‘less cluttered’ and those idiots at blogthings will not say that my mind is sixty-something percent cluttered. Hell … who cares anyway? Ranting rocks!

End: 8:45 a.m.

Of Boredom and Indecision

It is boring to be bored. And I don't like being bored, or messed up, or confused or indecisive. I feel like Hamlet. It's sick. Really. Really sick. I just thought that I'd taken a decision I'd stick to and here I am, already feeling unsure. Perhaps I should get myself re-christened, something along the lines of "She-who-vacillates-to-such-an-extent-that-the-sun-would-long-become-a-white-dwarf-by-the-time-she-makes-up-her-mind". But that would be too long. Hamlet the Second? NO! I don't think so. Ugh, see? I rest my case ... I simply cannot make up my mind. People like me should be hung upside down by their toenails and made to dangle from jagged parapets. I'm such a pathetic excuse for a human being. Oh look, how nice! Now I've reverted to emo-mode! Being bipolar sucks as well. It's crummy and awful and stressful. I don't like it. I'm bored. I don't like being hyper either. I feel exhausted. Like my brain just exploded. I'm tired of everything (back to emo-ness *sigh)! And iTunes has a mind of its own. It comes up with the lamest possible song variations on Party Shuffle right when you want to avoid songs like those with a ten-foot pole. For instance, right now, I'm in the mood for some Floyd and it's playing Michael Learns To Rock. Yuk! Why did I even add those stupid songs to my Library? It sure knows how to annoy people properly. Perhaps I should take lessons from it. My head hurts. Again. And I think I need to take Kali. Phos. again. Stupid. Useless. Horrible. Annoying. Argh. I'm tired ... again. And bored. And confused. And dazed enough to forget all my stickler-rules for proper grammar and formatting while posting. I don't know whether I'm making the right choice now. I think I'll probably go there tomorrow and end up impulsively choosing something else. Over-simplification. Yes. I want that. NOW. How nice it would be if the world were less complicated! I feel like singing Imagine now. And I should bop myself on the head with the emergency lamp next to my laptop. It would be interesting. My reaction, that is. Insomnia is stupid and evil. It gets on your nerves and makes you act as though you're still reeling from smelling your boots just to see if you're 'strong' enough to take it. Not that I smell my boots. Just thought I'd make that clear. In case funny people get funny ideas. I'm loony. Might as well get used to it. Ah, Linkin Park. Finally. And I've been asked to go to sleep now. I wish it were permanent though. Le sigh.

I Want Chocolate!

Date: 21.02.2007
Time: 6.00 p.m.

There are times when people feel the need to shout at the top of their voices. There are times when people feel the urge to break furniture ─ even age-old heirlooms cherished for centuries. There are times when people feel so frustrated that they are willing to indulge in any act, however abysmally stupid or moronic it might be, just to vent steam which appears to issue from their ears on close inspection. When I am faced with times like these, my solution is simple ─ I want chocolate. Not only do I feel calmer but I also find myself a lot more benevolent towards the world, which I had thought insufferable before popping a chunk of the delicacy into my mouth.

My obsession with chocolate goes as far back as the time when I first learnt of its existence. A mite-sized brat was ‘rewarded’ for doing her homework by a generous family-member. When I think about it, I sometimes wonder whether that person did me a favour or led me down the path of self-destruction (ever heard of ‘death by chocolate’?) by initiating me into the ‘I am addicted to chocolate’ cult. However, never mind that, for I am digressing from the main issue here ─ I want chocolate.

I seem to be plagued by contradictory thoughts these days. I am unsure as to whether I should continue to endure this pathetic excuse for a life that has become my existence, or simply pack my bags and head for the South Pole. Then I think of the weight of great expectations ─ expectations from me that I am not likely to live up to, expectations of people who have nothing better to do in life but tell young, impressionable and naïve people to strive for excellence when they themselves fall far short of that desired goal. (Haven’t these people heard of, ‘Practice what you preach’?)

The tiresome conversations that I have with people can usually be classified into two categories ─
1. Silly conversations with silly people who cannot possibly mind their own silly business and have a strong compulsion to interfere in other people’s lives in a silly manner while commending their silly selves on the great job they are doing in ‘encouraging’ the future generations to continue in tune with the same brand of silliness that they advocate.
(These people usually have no idea that they are being a pain in the you-know-where and are shocked, surprised and indignant when told the truth).
OR
2. ‘Well-meant’ conversations with well-wishers (I wonder, do they make wishes in wishing wells to have them addressed by the term? But, I digress…) who feel that it is their duty to guide the young and the hopeless in the right direction and prevent them from straying into the danger-zone of aimlessness by constantly stating the obvious which has no need to be stated in the first place, to the point of insanity.
What these people, who are well-meaning and a lot of other ‘well-’s do not realize is that they cause more damage than what any wishing well could ever repair even with the labour and efforts of all the fairies in Neverland!

After another of either one of these conversations, I want chocolate… I need chocolate to soothe my frayed nerves!

The place where I am forced to spend my days is filled with people whose peculiar mannerisms (peculiar to me, that is) and idiosyncrasies border greatly on the bizarre. I am generally expected to be Mr. or I should actually say, Miss Dependable (in capital letters, mind you). The world is at liberty to do every wrong thing imaginable, but no, I have no such right. After all, I am The Example ─ the one who serves (all puns intended) as the epitome of irritatingly good behaviour. So many look up to me ─ I cannot possibly let them all down by breaking (or bending, which is more my taste) a few rules! (Point to be noted class ─ sarcasm).

Well then, if that were the case, if I truly were an example to all that I know, I would not have minded it so. However, what truly aggravates me is that in spite of all my efforts at putting up that ‘I-am-oh-so-perfect’ image, at least on the public front and behaving perfectly, there are still people who continue to tread the forbidden path. Alas! My sacrifice is in vain! (Points to be noted ─ sarcasm and pique). I remain miserable in my perfect discomfort while there are others in similar positions who merrily abuse their position and privilege. Now, the more indulgent of you are sure to remark that I am indeed young and perhaps a tad bit hopeless too, but I must point out that from my point of view at least, if not yours, I have every right to be peeved… and so I want chocolate!

But why do I want chocolate of all things? Why do I crave for it whenever I find myself quite unwillingly plunging into pools of thoughts that are a gloomy shade of blue? How does it help alleviate my mood? In answer, I must say that apart from the pure joy that radiates from my being when I find it melting in my mouth ─ slowly at first and then dissolving into a tantalizing blend of the sweet and the bitter, creating havoc among my taste-buds, the endorphins that are released, work wonders in gently placating the angst-ridden teenager who happens to be me. The acerbic taste in my mouth quite literally, melts away into saccharine serenity. To cut a long story short, I feel better, much better. So, now that I have disclosed the ‘cookie-monster’-ish aspect of my nature, I will hide under a rock and have chocolate!

End: 6.50 p.m.