The Real Problem

The entire country is in an uproar over the plans to increase reservations. Protest marches, hunger strikes, lathi charges form the front page headlines everyday. What are the students worried about? Why are they protesting? Is it actually because they’re concerned about the quality of students passing out of India’s premiere institutes? Because they don’t believe in reservations? Because they think it’s highly unfair? Not really. Though all these reasons are extremely valid to argue against reservations and quotas, the real reason is simply that all of us can see chances of our bright future slowly slipping away from us.
But somehow, I don’t agree with the way people’s attitudes are changing. Everybody hates Arjun Singh and the government right now. The protests are obviously aimed at him. I receive at least five messages everyday making fun of arjun singh and his quota plans. Here are a couple of examples :

Why does Arjun Singh have sex only 3 days a week?
Because the rest 3 days his wife is reserved for OBC n for Sundays for SC/ST

Ok… that did make me laugh.

New rules of quota system in Indian Cricket:
1. boundary will be 15 yards shorter for SC/ST/OBC players
2. SC/ST/OBC can take one bounce catch of any batsman
3. SC/ST/OBC scoring 20 runs in a practice match will qualify for national team
4. SC/ST/OBC player scoring 60 will be counted as century
5. over for SC/ST/OBC bowler will consist of 3 balls
6. 50% players in cricket team will be from SC/ST/OBC.

Hmm… I did not find that funny.

These messages progressively seem to be becoming against OBCs rather than the government. Fine, people are angry that this section of the population is getting advantages that most of them don’t deserve. But they are not at fault! Is it their fault that they exist? Is it their fault that Arjun Singh is looking for votes? They did not choose to be OBCs, we gave them that classification.

I agree that it is unfair and that some SC/ST/OBCs use these reservations even if they are from higher classes who can afford their education and have the same opportunities as us, if not more. But seriously, if suppose, we were offered a reservation, which made it easier to get into the best institutes in the country, would we not use that reservation? Would we not campaign FOR that reservation and support the government?

My point is…. Protest against the government, not the OBCs.

The Rose

Sumant looked at it. It was just perfect. It had just flowered properly and all the petals were spread out at just the right distance. It had taken him half an hour to find it in the garden and another fifteen minutes to clear it of thorns. But at last it was ready.
Priya was going to love it, he could feel it in his bones. Sumant couldn’t wait to see the delighted look on her face, when he handed it to her. So he put on his bag and carefully holding the rose in his right hand so that its shape didn’t get spoilt, headed out for college. But he had hardly taken ten steps when he felt something tugging at his shirt. He turned around to see a small girl with long curly hair, looking up at him with light brown sparkling eyes. “Please Mister, can I have that rose? I want to give it to my mother.”
Sumant shook his head and turned to leave, but then stopped. He looked at the tearful face of the girl, the glint in her eyes, her rosy red cheeks and smiled. Bending he handed her the rose, and patting her head, went off whistling.
Aanchal, clutched the bright red rose tightly and ran towards the grocery store in which her mother was shopping. Reaching her mother she held up the rose as high as she could and shouted, “Look at what I got for you Mommy!” the mother took the rose and hugging her daughter, kept it on the counter with her groceries. Then picking up the packets they left the store.
Pranay picked up his bag and started walking out of his parents store when he noticed a long stemmed rose lying on the cash counter. Picking it up, he headed off to school, absent mindedly playing with it all the way. Rushing though the school corridor, he banged into a surly looking girl who was taking out something from her locker. “Sorry Tanya! I’m kind of in a hurry!” he shouted as he paused just long enough to pick up her book and hand it to her, but it was long enough to see the expression on her face.
Tanya frowned and turned back to her locker. She toyed with the bottle of sleeping pills as she pretended to search for her books. Nobody cared about her, they wouldn’t even miss her once she was gone. Today, she would finally find the courage, and get it over with. It was only for the best.
She gloomily walked to her English class and took a seat in the back row. Just as the bell rang she saw Pranay walk in. He looked around and spotting her walked towards her.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about before, I must’ve really bashed you up.” Before she could say anything he placed something on her desk and said, “Here, this is for you.” Smiling, he walked off.
Tanya looked at the pretty rose on her desk and smiled, something she hadn’t done for a long time. It made her dark face light up, giving her a pixie like look. She happily clutched the rose throughout the day.
Sumant came home that night with a sinking feeling in his heart. After all, he hadn’t been able to give Priya the perfect rose. But as he got into bed, he couldn’t help but have the weird feeling that he had helped someone, somewhere. Smiling, he turned off the lamp and called out to his sister in the next room.
“Goodnight, Tanya!”

The Final Plunge

Even though I was trembling, my eyes sparkled with determination. I had spent a long time thinking things through, trying to find a better solution, but all my efforts had failed. This was the only option left, to end things, once and for all.
As I started climbing, I became very conscious of how overweight and unfit I was, just one of the problems in my life. My feet seemed to be made of lead, each step taking my utmost concentration and determination. In my life, I’d chickened out of a lot of things, but not this time. Well, at least after this, they’ll feel sorry for all those times they teased me.
I felt the wind ruffling my hair as I reached the top. The view from such a height was breathtaking; everything seemed so calm and peaceful, as if there wasn’t a problem in the world, so fake. For a moment, I forgot my purpose for being there, and just stood there, enjoying the freshness of the morning air. But another gust of wind soon brought me back to my senses. Slowly, I made my way towards the edge. Peering over, I suddenly felt a knot in my stomach and quickly stepped back, afraid I might throw up. Dazed by the height, and the thought of what I was going to do, I crouched down, holding on tightly to anything I could find, one last time. I closed my eyes as shadows of doubt started creeping into my mind, and reminded myself of all the reasons I was there, of why I had to do this.
Shouts from below snapped me out of my reverie, and I heard footsteps behind me. Turning around, I saw him, the only person I had ever looked up to, in fact the reason I was here, doing this. For a moment I felt relieved, but the anger in his face made me freeze. At once, I knew I had failed him.
As he reached me, he held out his strong arms. I streched my arms to hold onto him, but to my surprise, he did not hold me. My eyes widened as I suddenly felt him push me, his face more determined than I had ever seen, his eyes almost red. As if in slow motion, I felt myself lose balance, my feet sliding off the edge, arms flapping wildly, hoping that by some miracle I might be able to fly. And then I felt the weightlessness. My life flashed before my eyes as I fell down, gaining speed every second. I was just about to say my last prayer when I hit the hard water, head first.
It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened. I quickly surfaced, gasping for air and swallowing huge amounts of water. Through the buzzing in my ears, I heard people cheering, and turned around to wave at my friends. I looked up into the sky, and saw my swimming coach standing on the diving board, looking satisfied. I had finally done it. I had finally gotten through my first dive.

The curse is back

After a long time away, which I can’t truthfully say was for studies, I’m finally back. A lot has happened in the past year, and I think just about everyone I knew in school has changed a lot. Or maybe, I have just changed a lot. No, college life didn’t suddenly get to me, though it is a lot more fun than school, and definitely has a lot more perks. For the ill informed, I’m currently doing economics honours from SRCC. And even though I was sure I was gonna hate this geek filled college, as it turned out, there are still a lot of cool and genuinely nice kids here, who do everything but study! Neway, have made a lot of really good friends, and have managed to have my share of pending fun, what with bunking classes (which of course I realized, a little too late, isn’t all that great a thing once exams are on) watching way too many and too crappy movies (shaadi no 1 being one of then, need I say more?) and basically becoming even weirder than before!
Now my first year of college is over, a little too fast t seems, and I look back, and somehow feel disheartened. What have I really achieved? Many years later, when I look back at these days, what would I actually be looking at? Studies are the last thing on my mind these years, really not a priority anymore. So what am I doing other than that? Actually, you know what, I had been planning on writing a lot on that, but at the moment, I have only questions, barely any answers. And I also know that no one else can ever answer them for me. So instead of boring all of you, like I have done so often before, I guess I’ll keep it to myself.
Oh, by the way, I’m part of the team of Candid Expressions, a magazine started by some of the seniors in my college, basically for students to voice their opinions without having to old back. So if anyone is interested in writing in, do tell me.
So, cya people…
I’ll keep the blog updated…
Like I said, the curse is back…

Long time no see

I'm guessing that everyone's really really busy with their college stuff, cuz all blogs have been static for a month. Or maybe we're too lazy....

Anyway, I am wondering what everyone is doing with their lives so it would be nice if someone would tell me!!!!

I'm lazy too, so i'll write again later.

Cya!

The Weird Trio at Work

I guess it’s about time I continued with my account about the weird trio. So what did we really do? Not much really. Just stuff that any normal human being would be way too embarrassed to do in public. For example, we would sing in the worst way possible (once we were actually asked by a junior kid if we were anti-choir), or dance, or advertise Mr. Magician’s strip shows. Some of my worst memories would be sponge fights and spit fights between Mr. Magician and Miss. Reddy with me sitting between them. No points for guessing who brought home a shirt stuffed with sponge or who got the wettest with, yuck, spit. I guess the best part about us was that we didn’t really care what people thought about us as long as we liked each other. That was all that mattered.
Now that I come to think of it, I can’t really count a lot of separate incidents about what we did. It’s just that each and everyday in the bus was absolutely loads of fun, and if you spend two hours a day laughing, then it pretty much makes you day.
The three of us loved making fun of each other too. What with Ms. Reddy being a poor baby and having a boo boo, or Mr. Magician turning into a total majnoo. (Don’t read on expecting to find stuff I was teased about, I’m not stupid enough to actually write that!) But we were there for each other when times were bad too. Seeing that I’m getting into a slightly senti mood, I would like to take this rare opportunity to thank these two friends for being there when I was feeling low and always trying their best to make me feel better, even if their attempts made me feel worse.
But of course, all good things have to come to an end. No, I’m not talking about my unusual senti mood, I meant the weird trio. Mr. Magician, by virtue of being the oldest among us, was the first to pass out, and leave the trio. As a parting message to him, I would like to say, best of luck with Lalita…..
Still to come:
The weird Duo
The Weirdo

Practical Application

I’m sorry that I’m putting up stuff by other people, but I’m a little busy. Don’t worry, I’ll be a back in two weeks time…so beware! Anyway, till then, this is a cute poem. Milo…even you can’t hate it!

Practical Application
He’s teaching her arithmetic,
He said it was his mission,
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice, and said,
"Now that’s addition."
And as he added smack by smack,
In silent satisfaction,
She sweetly gave the kisses back and said,
"Now that’s subtraction."
Then he kissed her, she kissed him,
Without an explanation,
And both together smiled and said,
"That’s multiplication."
Then Dad appeared upon the scene and,
Made a quick decision,
He kicked that kid three blocks away,
And said, "That’s long division!"

By:
Dan Clark

Why Girls like Guys

I'm sure that most people have already read this somewhere or the other, but I think it's really cute. Ithought I'd put it up. Tell me if you agree with it or if you have your own thing to add...

Why Girls Like Guys
1. The way they always wear their favorite cologne (which happens to be the one that you bought them for their birthday)
2. The way the run their hands through out hair
3. The way that they look at you and you want to die right then and there
4. The way that they casually put their arms around you
5. The way that they kiss away your tears
6. ...and the way that they then get mad at how they can't make your problem go away
7. The way they show off around their friends, even though you both know that you would love them even if they missed a basket or two
8. How there eyes light up at the result of 3 hours of preparing for your date
9. How they always know just what to say to make you blush
10. How they sometimes think that they know just what to say to make you feel better, even if you think that it is the worst thing that they could say
11. The way they hold you close when you are cold 1
2. How they look at you when your mad at them and all your anger melts away
13. How they always smile when you are together
14. The way that they always let you win any game that you play together
15. ... and then when you point that out to them they pretend to not know what you are talking about
16. The way that they smile at you
17. The way that you feel when they call to apologize after you had a big fight
18. The way that they say I love you
19. The way that they say I love you in front of their friends
20. The way that they touch and hold you so gently, like they are afraid that they will break you 21. The way that they kiss you 22. The way that they open their arms to you when you are crying 23. The way that they never admit that you hurt them 24. The way that they try not to cry when they are afraid that they are losing you 25. The way that they think that they are your big protector, even though you think that you are theirs
26. The way that they say I miss
you, even though they hate to admit it
27. The way that you miss everything about them when they are gone
28. The way that they remember your special moments, or aniversaries when you think that they forgot
29. The way that they apologize when they do forget 30. The way that they comfort you when you have a bad day
31. The way that you can't wait to get home and tell them all about your day
32. The way that they write you love letters even if they think that it is uncool
33. How they would rather be with you then their friends sometime
34. How you want to hug them even th
ough they are all sweaty
35. Yet regardless if you love them, hate them, wish they would die or know that you would die without them... it matters not. Because once in your life, whatever they were to the world they become everything to you. When you look them in the eyes, traveling to the depths of their souls and you say a million things without a trace of sound, you know that your own life is inevitabley comsumed within the rhythimic beatings of his heart. We love them for a million reasons, No paper would do it justice. It is a thing a feeling, that is only felt.

Why Girls like Guys

I'm sure that most people have already read this somewhere or the other, but I think it's really cute. Ithought I'd put it up. Tell me if you agree with it or if you have your own thing to add...

Why Girls Like Guys
1. The way they always wear their favorite cologne (which happens to be the one that you bought them for their birthday)
2. The way the run their hands through out hair
3. The way that they look at you and you want to die right then and there
4. The way that they casually put their arms around you
5. The way that they kiss away your tears
6. ...and the way that they then get mad at how they can't make your problem go away
7. The way they show off around their friends, even though you both know that you would love them even if they missed a basket or two
8. How there eyes light up at the result of 3 hours of preparing for your date
9. How they always know just what to say to make you blush
10. How they sometimes think that they know just what to say to make you feel better, even if you think that it is the worst thing that they could say
11. The way they hold you close when you are cold 1
2. How they look at you when your mad at them and all your anger melts away
13. How they always smile when you are together
14. The way that they always let you win any game that you play together
15. ... and then when you point that out to them they pretend to not know what you are talking about
16. The way that they smile at you
17. The way that you feel when they call to apologize after you had a big fight
18. The way that they say I love you
19. The way that they say I love you in front of their friends
20. The way that they touch and hold you so gently, like they are afraid that they will break you 21. The way that they kiss you 22. The way that they open their arms to you when you are crying 23. The way that they never admit that you hurt them 24. The way that they try not to cry when they are afraid that they are losing you 25. The way that they think that they are your big protector, even though you think that you are theirs
26. The way that they say I miss
you, even though they hate to admit it
27. The way that you miss everything about them when they are gone
28. The way that they remember your special moments, or aniversaries when you think that they forgot
29. The way that they apologize when they do forget 30. The way that they comfort you when you have a bad day
31. The way that you can't wait to get home and tell them all about your day
32. The way that they write you love letters even if they think that it is uncool
33. How they would rather be with you then their friends sometime
34. How you want to hug them even th
ough they are all sweaty
35. Yet regardless if you love them, hate them, wish they would die or know that you would die without them... it matters not. Because once in your life, whatever they were to the world they become everything to you. When you look them in the eyes, traveling to the depths of their souls and you say a million things without a trace of sound, you know that your own life is inevitabley comsumed within the rhythimic beatings of his heart. We love them for a million reasons, No paper would do it justice. It is a thing a feeling, that is only felt.

Lesson Learnt

WARNING!! THE FOLLOWING BLOG IS LONG. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I WILL NOT BE PAYING FOR ANY ASPIRINS!

Mum grunted as I pulled her out of bed at 4:30 in the morning. She just could not understand my excitement and nervousness over doing something she did everyday. As it turned out, we needed every bit of the next one and a half hour to wrap the never-ending cloth around me. There were problems unlimited – due to my being tall, the sari had to be tucked in just the right length, so that it doesn’t become short, ("No high heels!" my mother warned, admiring her work of art at finally tucking in the cloth without my ankles showing). On top of that we had the usual arguments of where the sari should start, mum wanting it like hers, me going in for a more Britney Spears look and making sure it was way below my belly button. 60 minutes and several hundred arguments later (including scolding me for the fact that I just don’t wear any jewellery) I was finally ready. As it turned out, that was the easiest thing I did all day.

Somehow, after a lot of tumbling over my own sari and screaming at every kid in the bus who came anywhere near me, I finally reached school. And that’s when it really hit me – I was a teacher for the day. My juniors, who were my friends till yesterday, were my students today, and would go to any end to make my life miserable. I grimaced at the memories of the hard times we had given our seniors on the previous teachers days. And the knowledge that I was the bakra for the day, didn’t make me feel any better.

The day began with the assembly, where neither the students nor the student teachers actually listened to anything (this obviously does not include Bax, Nima and a few others, who somehow manage to stay awake during these things). First half of the function we spent looking at all the other student teachers and commenting on how pretty or more often, how ‘eewwweey’ some people were looking. Of course, our teachers were doing the very same thing, and when we went to five our flowers to them, some even commented on our appearances. But the one thing that amused me a little was this look in all of their eyes, a look that I just could not place. Was it happiness, or relief, or simply amusement? I had no idea.

And then the first bell rang and all of us hurried (as much as we could, without falling with ten bed sheets wrapped around us!) to our classes. Me? Well I didn’t have any classes till the end of the day, so I just roamed around with friends, took photographs and enjoyed myself. There were of course lively incidents like taking snaps in Bose’s office, or eating frozen Frooti, and of course trying to figure out how to tie back Mansi’s sari after it got open from the wrong end. The didi from the kitchen helped us out and Mansi ended up having a sari which was 5 inches too short. So we spent another fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to untie it and then tie it back again!

Then at last, the dreaded moment came. I had a double period with the commerce section, easily classified as the most notorious section of that batch. I knew that teaching them economics wasn’t going to be an easy task. Needless to say, I really didn’t get anything done in that hour. The fact that the teacher gave me the wrong syllabus didn’t really help. So we just ended up chatting. Somehow the final bell for the day rang, and I daresay that I ran out faster from that classroom than any of the kids!

The day had finally ended, and here were the results of me and my friends – we were dead tired, our sandals were hurting us like crazy, our saris were at all levels, and we just didn’t care! I suddenly had a newfound respect for all my teachers. I looked at them admiringly as they came back into the school, and I saw that expression on their faces again. Only, this time I realized what it said, "Gotcha!"

Bubbly

I'm really busy nowadays, and barely find time to check my mail. So sadly, I will not be blogging for a while. Of course this is good news for some.....
Cya
Wish me best of luck for the zillion exams I'm giving..

..Hmmm....

After giving quite a few people a headache with my last blog, i thought I'd write a short one. So here it is, my first poem...

My Family

My father is an engineer but he cant make an engine

My mother is a teacher but she cant spell penguin

My sister is fourteen but she cries like a kid

I think I'm the only one who acts truly big!

I was 7 when I wrote this....

Gone with the Wind

I know, I know, that sounds bloody boring but I’m sorry, I’m actually obsessed with the book. I thought it would be boring, but it’s the first book I’ve read that has so much Gal Power based in a time when women were pretty much worse than the show pieces on the mantle piece. Of course another book that comes to mind it Pride and Prejudice, which I’m pretty sure was nothing near the movie Bride and Prejudice (though I haven’t actually seen it), but according to me was a bore nonetheless. I know that by saying that, I probably just turned about a million people against me (yeah right! As if a million will ever read this blog), but it was one of the most degrading books I have ever read. The entire purpose for a girl in her life was to look pretty so that she can find a beau, I mean, puh-lease! Sure Elisabeth Bennet was different from the rest, but she ended up doing the same, only after stupidly predictable events which pretty much reminded me of our average Hindi movie story. Liz and Darcy meet, hate each other, Darcy then falls in love, proposes, Liz says no, of course later falls in love, Darcy says no, and eventually both fall in love with each other at the same time, finally. Oh, and all this while, Liz’s sisters are getting married or blushing and fluttering their eyelids. Bah!

So, why am I in love with Gone with the wind, which is four times thicker than P & P and sounds even more boring? Because this book revolves around a pretty little girl who is so evil and manipulative, she could put the wildest cheerleader of your usual English high school movie to shame. Scarlett. Just the name somehow, shows her character. She’s the prettiest little thing in town, and actually enjoys fluttering her eyelids and flirting more than anything else. She has a long list of handsome men who want to ask for her hand, but of course, being the spoilt brat that she is, falls for the one guy Ashley, who as per his family tradition, marries his cousin Melanie. Now Scarlett thinks that Ashley betrayed her and he’s her true love, throws a huge tantrum, and when that doesn’t work, marries Melanie’s brother, a stuttering fool who couldn’t believe his luck at getting Scarlett. Of course she regrets her decision but there isn’t much she can do then. That’s when Yankees start the war against Southerners and her entire life changes. All the men are called away for the war, and her hubby dearest, falls sick even before reaching the war front and dies, leaving her with a son who she simply detests, because she didn’t love his father.
So now our seventeen year old widow is left all alone, crying, not because her husband died, but because she has to wear black and cant wear any of her old fancy colourful dresses. Of course while all this is happening, we have guest appearances of amchi hero, Rhett Buttler, who has more money than one could ever imagine, and has been shunned by society for taking a walk with a girl without a chaperone and not returning until after dark, and then refusing to marry her. Now Rhett is suave villain, one who could easily put the legendary James Bond to shame. Scarlett of course hates him, and Rhett at first isn’t too fond of her. But he’s attracted to her because he sees right through her pretty little face and admires her for her gumption and ambitions.

And so continues the story, throughout the war time. Most of Scarletts beaus die in the war, including her mother, and her father goes crazy and ends up dead too after sometime. So Scarlett pulls up her sleeves and gets to work on her burnt farm, something she had never done before. The amount of courage shown by this girl in the book is what got me hooked. And also her will to do whatever it took, however mean it might be. Ashley becomes a prisoner of war leaving her to look after Melanie, who is the purest little thing ever and who Scarlett detests with all her heart. The book proceeds with amazing speed after the first hundred pages, and has beautiful descriptions especially the famous "Burning of Atlanta" scene which also became famous because of the movie (which by the way is one of the longest movies ever made and got loads of Oscars). The selfishness and meanness of Scarlett is breathtaking, if I may take the liberty of calling it so. By the end of the book her name is Scarlett o’ Harra Hamilton Henry Buttler, simply because she married so many times, and not even one of those time because of love.

The ending is amazing, unlike anything I would’ve expected or have ever seen before, growing up in a country where all love stories’ endings are governed by the laws of Bollywood and are pretty clichéd. Maybe it is the ending that made me love the book so much, even though it sent me into a huge depression and a frantic search for "Scarlett", which is the second part. If you’ve actually gotten so far reading this humongous thing I just wrote, there are chances you might want to know the ending, so just ask me.

The sequel, "Scarlett" is not by the same author, even though it took several years to decide who should be honored with the task of writing it. There are some people who didn’t like it, because Scarlett seems to have mellowed down and isn’t as mean as before, and also because the original author had not wanted a sequel, and had wished the story to end in the drastic way it did. I agree with them. But if you really do want to continue following up on whether Scarlett did manage to do the thing that she claims on the last page that she’ll do even if it was the last thing she ever did, do read the next part.

Sorry for bumming anyone who did read the entire blog, but I just felt like writing about my favourite novel. Next time, I’ll give a warning, promise.

Freedom (??????)

Finally.......finally.........finally the boards are over. Not a very nice experience, and frankly I wouldnt go through them again if you paid me a thousend dollars!!! well, maybe a million....

Neway, my 1 and a half day of fun are almost over now.....so life is going to get pretty much as boring as before pretty soon. But now I get to listen to music and complete my school life story. My initial plan also included having a nice fun fling before college, but I'm not sure how thats gonna work out. I'll keep posting stupid blogs of course.

Cya!!!

The End of an Era

It was finally here - the day i had both been looking forward to and regretting for a long time. Till now, I just couldn't believe it, school couldnt possibly be over. I mean, I just walked into school yesterday!! I still remember thinking of it as the biggest place in the world, getting lost on my first day, yet still loving this absolutely wonderful school.

Over the years, I've come to hate this school as and institution more than anything, but still loved getting up each day and meeting my friends. I guess sometimes the fact that the school just didn't care about us actually worked to our advantage, giving us a lot more freedom than we sometimes deserved.

I seem to have spent my entire lifetime in this school. I have made the most amazing friends, and sometimes the worst, i have made the best decisions of my life, and aalso the worst. But most of all, I've made mistakes and learnt from them, and grown amazingly in that process. (And here I'm not talking about my height!!!!)

I have loved my school life, and now I'm scared to leave it behind. How can I step out into a world where I just don't know what's going to happen to me? Where there won't be a report card at the end of the year stating the simple words - "Promoted to next class" whose importance I never realized until now when there is no next class to be promoted to?

And there's one more thing I'm scared about. I know I'll be one of those kids who'll never be remembered the moment I leave the school boundary, but I don't mind that. You can't expect each and every child in a batch of 180 kids to impact the school. But did I actually make an impact in my friends lives?? Will they remember me ten years from now, the way I probably will remember them? Or was I just a girl who they hung out with simply because I was there for their entertainment, or that I was there to do the talking when they didn't want to open their mouths?? That's what really scares me...

But whatever I might have done, there were countless people who have left imprints in my life. Well after the farewell and citation ceremony, i was in the most nostalgic of all moods, and I did the only thing that makes me feel better (No I didn't talk!!) - I wrote. Sso now I've started writing about my entire school life and the people I have shared it with. It's not an interesting story or anything, just something to remember all my friends by. So if you think that you've played a significant role in my life, then you're sure to be mentioned. Order for a copy of that portion today!!! Limited stocks available!!!

As you can see, I am in a better mood right now. I guess it's just that i realized that life goes on, and it does so for the best. I will stay in touch with the people that matter, and will enjoy my uncertain life to the fullest. And most of all, I will continue to do the one thing I have always been famous for - talk!!! So keep those aspirins handy!!!

Life in General

It's wierd how many things can happen in just a few weeks, or how few. the last few weeks have been extremely boring, of course the credit of that goes to the facte that I just gave my pre-boards. And they were worse than any horror story I have ever read. But anyway, now I'm just glad that they're over and I can look forward to (yeah right!) my BOARDS.
But for some reason, I've just got this nice feeling about life right now. I cannot imagine why, specially since I barely have a life right now, but I just do. Things were just going awfully wrong over the last month, I mean, my friends are still calling me a bitch though that is now becoming old news, my mother is doing her best to ruin any plan I make for having even a bit of fun, and some people are just mastering the art of irritating people while at the same time flunking the art of "knowing when to stop". But somehow, I just dont care anymore. I'm just in a good mood, until I get my results of course.
Now, I had started my blog thinking I'll write a lot, but of course the Delhi Electricity Board just wont allow it, so before my UPS starts screeching any more, I guess I'll sign off. And this is just another one of those things which are going awfully wrong. but I'm still really happy!

Dont bother, I'll find myself a therapist.

Luv
Shreya

Clicks, Kisses and aieeeeeeeee

On second thought, I've decided to not write about the heading I just typed. It just happens to be another one of those embarassing things that mysteriously happen a lot to the likes of me. Just something to feel humiliated about for a day and then forget about (like I have a choice).

"Aieeeeeeeeeeee" is practically what I said after looking giving a mock AIEEE test. Bloody difficult and absolutely no time to finish. And of course the questions I did finish were wrong, resulting in more negative marks than positive. Just another test to prove tham I'm a duphus. (I dont think that's a real word but it just seemed perfect to describe me at the moment.

If things couldn't be worse, well they are. I have been called a bitch a zillion times in the last two weeks, thats more than in my entire life, and that too by my best friends!! I know what I did might have seemed mean and bitchy, but there are reasons behind everything, and they were well aware of the reasons, and if they actually think about it, they'd know that I was right. The thing is, I knew that I would called a bitch at first, and I was okay with it. But there's a limit to everything. Afterall, they are my friends, and at the end of the day, I expect them to be on my side and support my decisions. And this most of them failed to do.

Anyway, pre-boards are on my head now, so I guess I'll take a break from blogging and write again later.

Hopefully in a better state.

The Weird Trio

It’s weird how the most unexpected people turn out to be the people you care about the most. Take for example, the people in my bus. Each and every person in it is totally unique. You find people of all ages, colour, size and nature. We have the popular kids, the talkative kids (no points for guessing who that title goes to!), the geeks, the nice neutral kids (you know, the ones who are always present during the fights but are mysteriously never involved in them…), and of course, we had the weird trio.
Of course, to understand the extent of weirdness of the weird trio I must take you through the weird history of this particular weird group. As you can see, I’m using the word ‘weird’ a lot. I looked up the thesaurus to try and make this passage less monotonous, but none of the ten words offered were anywhere near describing us. There’s only one word for us, yup, you guessed it, weird.
The oldest member of the group was a certain irritating boy called, let’s say, Mr. Magician (names have been changed to prevent me from being sued). I don’t know what his problem was, but he found great joy in troubling me and a friend of mine. Now that I think about it, I think I got my hair cut short because of him, I was just so sick of my rubber band being pulled off. This was one guy I hated, simply because he loved making my life miserable. But of course there finally came payback time, and I found something to trouble and tease him about. I screamed stuff out in the bus, loudly, over and over, until his face was totally red, and he started staring out of the window. You know how they call it ‘sweet revenge’? hoggumping crap!!! That’s when I realized that this guy had just started hating me. And then I fell in love with him. Why? Because I’m me. I like guys who never like me, and I do stupid stuff like particularly choosing the ones who at the moment hate me, and at most times the feeling is bloody mutual. Confused??? Welcome to my twisted and confusing life. But over the next year, we actually started talking, and I realized that the monster I was in love with was actually almost a human being. And that’s how our friendship started.
Member no.2 was a certain Ms. Reddy (all pun intended). Now she thought I was a total freak, and well, I’ve been known to have called her stuff like fish-face behind her back. But we were on nice hi-bye terms. We were actually decent friends. But that didn’t change the fact that she thought of me as a freak. I don’t really blame her as I used to start singing and dancing in the middle of the bus, and she used to get utterly embarrassed. But all that was about to change drastically. You see, the only reason that I didn’t mind doing the weird stuff I did was because I’d finally stopped caring about what people thought about me. Let us call that the condition of being ‘floopy’. This is caused due to certain flooping. Don’t try to figure out what im trying to say, because, well, you won’t be able to figure it out. I was flooped at the time, and that made me happy and carefree. Ms. Reddy totally disagreed with my shameful behavior, until she too, got flooped. And that was the beginning of the making of the biggest weirdo that this earth has ever seen, and if God is kind, will ever see.
Ms. Reddy didn’t approve of my friendship with Mr. Magician, she thought I was silly and chipkoo, until one day, when she got to sit with him. I never heard the end of her praise of Mr. Magician then. Suddenly he had become this nice guy who she thoroughly approved of and encouraged our friendship. In only a few months, the three of us became best friends. And then it happened. Mr. Magician got flooped.

The weird trio had been established.

Look out for more on the weirdness of the weird trio, coming up next week.

NOTE: No weirdoes were harmed during the writing of the above blog.

TEAMWORK

Q. What’s worse than having your mother or your sister screaming at you?
A. Having your mother and your sister screaming at you.
It is soooo infuriating. There are just these times when they seem to decide to team up against me. So anything that I possibly say or do has to be wrong and has got to be oh so rude. I say something to mum, and sis will scream at me for being rude and impudent. Say something to sis and of course, there’s mum, shouting at me for showing no respect to my elder sibling. Talk to them in normal tones, and that’s what works all the time. Yeah right! In a perfect world maybe. And this world is just as far from perfect as is possible. In a perfect world everything would be equally divided. I know the first thing that comes to your mind is the inequality in the distribution of wealth. But, hey people, this is my blog, and hullo, it has to be about me! I’m talking about the distribution between me and my sis. She’s the elder one, so there are, of course, no hand-me-downs for her. She has new clothes for her extremely pretty face, a sweet voice and a smile that charms and melts people into the ground. And though she’s fatter than me, being taller, that doesn’t show. Come on God, at least she could have been fat!!! I am on the other hand, not that greatly blessed in the looks section, shorter and hence look fatter, have a voice which changes every two days (it has been known to be described as a squeaky yet low voice, if that was possible) and lastly I hate being falsely nice to people. I just can’t pretend to like a person and then bitch about the person behind his/her back. This of course has adverse effects on my popularity. It takes quite a bit of understanding on my friends part to get used to my truthfulness which often is mistaken for rudeness. So it is not difficult to guess which one of the siblings of our family is easier to like at first sight.
As if all that was not enough, since sis is now married and has gone away from the house, when she is back in the house, whatever she does has to be right. If there’s a fight, according to both the grannies it’s probably my fault. In a fight, her blows are conveniently looked over while a little slap from me is quickly reprimanded. And to top it all, there are times like today when I get to hear my mum and my sis angry at me. Perfect little world my bloody yet extremely huge (size8) foot!
Now I know that I haven’t been fair in whatever I’ve written above. After all, it’s not my sis’s fault if she was born extra pretty or if people tend to like her more. (her fake sweetness though, I’ll never forgive!) and of course, when my mum is angry at me there are quite a few chances that I might have done something wrong. Of course, there are also quite a few chances that she’s just bugged with someone else and is taking it out on me. But the thing to be understood here is that I’m in 12th standard, with the pressure of boards and college on my head and I need a way to vent out all my frustrations. I figured the best way to do so is to write, and in my writing I have the right to be mean and say whatever I want to. Even though I know, that I will probably not post this, and if I do I’ll take it down pretty soon. Cause deep down, I know I just said stuff about people who mean more to me than anyone else, people with whom I’ll always fight, people with whom I can’t stay angry for long, people who I love.

The unexpected

There are only two events which I look forward to the entire year. The school b'day and the fete. This year, being our last, was even more special. the wierd part about these functions are that the unexpected just about always happens. On the fete, for example, people who I had been expecting to spend the day with and have fun with were barely even there while I ended up spending the entire day with people I was pretty sure I could not endure the entire day (and vice versa, I'm pretty sure, I ain't that easy to be with). and the best part is, I actually enjoyed myself more with them. Now whether that was due to the fact that I was hell bent on enjoying myself, or whether a particular moody person was in a surprisingly good mood, i don't know. Either way, yesterday was fun, even though it led to today - which is the day for ppl to get serious n start studyin....(or so most people's mums think)