love
hobby
passion
profession
occupation
preoccupation

Everything turning, tossing in turmoil inside my mixed bag.
yet to be sorted.
also


SABBATICAL

writing

a majorly thrilling psychological thriller.

Four

slaps right across my cheek.
something bitter to remember, every time i need to cry.

Coming from a man who eyes girls, to say the least.
I know i am NOT WRONG when I say this.

The "blues" that turn red hot funny

15^th July

What was with the barging inside a bathroom because you want people to believe that you can “do stuff” to a girl, who, clearly, bisexual or not, is much more into the guy in question.

I get it sweetie; you don’t even know how, coz you know what, some people are so sensitive they stop thinking about themselves for three whole seconds when they see someone else, the person sitting opposite them, for example; in deep emotional shitty pain.

Please be happy honey, you’ve got it all. You have big boobies, disposable income from a good job in your choicest “field”, a husband, potential boy-toys (read big boobies), a “business” you can call your own, talent galore, exquisitely beautiful women at the nearest shopping mall and most importantly; INTELLIGENCE.

You deserve to be happy. You don’t need no people for that.

16^th July

So…. Moving on,

When I was in school, I wanted to be “popular”. I wanted to be known in the girl world as somebody who was capable of holding the attention of other “popular” girls. I was an Indian small city girl studying in a co-ed non-convent school. I did not understand the concept of popularity, whatever little I understood, I had gathered all my knowledge of “popularity” from watching Hollywood high school movies. From that little knowledge of “popularity” I knew that if you are a girl, you will be popular in the boy world if you are

1.       Good looking.

If you want to be popular in the girl world, and you do not have a string of boys vying for your attention and writing love letters to you, you can be popular by

1.       Talking about all the boys that are after you

2.      Talking about the rich life that you lead wherein you get to travel in air-planes.

3.      Talking about other girls who you are not fond of because they have a greater number of boys vying for their attention

4.      Cracking jokes about everybody under the sun starting with teachers and ending with your own self.

Therefore, in class eight, I, being an albeit very below average student as far as academics was concerned, I knew that students in the class who were serious about things like examinations; might be praying to God thusly,

“Dear God, please make this happen – I want to score one mark more in all the subjects, specially math, physics, chemistry, and biology and also computer science than so and so.

I would be praying to God thusly,

“Dear God, please make this happen – I want to sit next to Yasir Haque, so that I can be friends with him, because, God, I know you did not make me good looking and although I am very sad about that, I am okay with it, I know that the guy will never be “interested” in me, but if I get to sit with him and successfully make him my friend (which he already is, because we are in the same class since standard four) I will feel like I have been close to him and I have known him (which will happen because I will be sitting next to him, day after day, everyday)”

Cut to college.

Out of the plethora of senior guys and guys in my batch, I, according to my own standards of judging guys on the basis of their looks had chosen two people. A guy who I rated as the “hottest guy in class” and another guy who I chose to have a crush on. There was another guy that I met online who I had an “instant crush” on.

The guy I chose to have a crush on, was not only insanely good looking, and since he was insanely good looking and did sit right behind me in our first ever sociology pass class in college, I noticed almost everything about him; by which I mean, instead of listening to the teacher talk, I did not have a choice but to listen to what that guy had to say because he was “passing comments” ; the teacher did single him out to “scold” hence making him all the more popular, for me and for the rest of the class.

I started noticing the guy even more because

1.       He was insanely good looking

2.      He, I found out, was insanely funny.

I started noticing him –

For example, I heard him utter the word “blog” and I heard him tell another guy what the link to his blog was.

Later on, sitting inside the coolness of the cyber room, after checking whether it was safe enough, I checked out his blog.

It had a spectacular design and it had lyrics from a song of the band “lakkhichhara”

The guy totally surprised me and I thought there was a quick rush of blood through my veins and a certain ache inside my heart.

I remember another incident wherein I was coming back from college through the back gate with a group of two more girls who I wanted to be friends with and throughout the walk they had been discussing things like having sex and I’d decided I was “no match” for being friends with those two girls because I had learnt the day before that, to my utter horror, that girls have sex in real life before they get married.

I walked in to the college through the back gate and found that guy under a tree in front of the green benches strumming a guitar and very nicely and “passionately” singing a “Fossils” song.

There were a lot of things that ran through my head along with a by now familiar rush of blood through my veins and a certain throbbing ache inside my heart –

THE GUY IS A ROCKSTAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’d thought that bangla bands are not cool and Fossils is not a “cool” band because they “copy” western rock bands; everyone in the planet seems to be making fun of them and although “lakkhichhara” is my personal favorite band, I secretly LOVE Fossils also because I love their music and this guy is playing a Fossils song that I happen to know and I happen to think that it is an amazing song and OH MY GOD, I think I love this guy.

Moving on, battling the OCD inside of me,

Cut to

The very same day, when I was trying to have an over-priced meal at the canteen, the guy (who I am going to facebook stalk again, in a while) suddenly, asked me which school I am from etc, tried to make small talk with me. I was very happy. The guy happened to be very heavily hanging out with the “cool group” i.e the students from my department in college.

The very next day while I was frantically trying to run up a flight of stairs in order to reach the class before the second bell, I found the “hottest guy in class” running along with me, we made small talk and he happened to know my name, which, for reasons very intricately deep and intense, made me very happy indeed.

So, that’s life. I should move on and facebook stalk the red bantoo.

Moving on,

I could not stalk the guy because I could not find him. Since I am not a child anymore, I am not going to stalk a college crush when I can easily and always stalk a grown-up life crush even though…… well….he is NOT EVEN ON MY FRIENDLIST.

I deleted him from my friendlist because I did not know how to stop seeing feeds from a specific person on your list. That’s Facebook, because the website understands that even though you keep adding people as your friends, there might just be some people on your list who you want in your list but not necessarily on your mind, or vice-versa; whatever.

Since my internet connection is sort of suffering from menstrual cramps, which I know about because it is very dear to me, I have a million different things that I could be doing (read books) but I am also battling a very strange addiction problem with my new laptop, so, I will be continuing with the saga which is my life.

This brings me back to the person, who I chose to have a crush on, in college.

Many years later; by which I mean four years later, I was in an office with free internet connection, I decided to Facebook… actually stories about my different workplaces are too passé for my health right now; therefore let’s talk about something else.

So, my college crush was/is similar to my grown-up life crush in many different ways. Herein I would like to assume that I have very cunningly established the fact that I Facebook stalk almost all of my crushes. Therefore I have often realized that both these crushes are actually facebook friends and very similar to each other.

They are similar because –

1.       They are insanely good looking

2.      They are insanely funny.

3.      They seem to be into this thing called “music”

I am getting to the point.

Once I was a part of a whatsapp group which comprised of eight members, one member out which (read me) was in Kolkata, seven members were Bombay residents and another member (read my elder brother) was travelling to and fro in between Bombay and Kolkata.

My crush was a co-member; I was very happy to be a part of the virtual social group without having any intentions of trying to virtually make a mark as a member of that social group which was also a social group very non-virtually.

A girl, founder of the group actually, decided to crack a joke on my crush’s SENSE OF HUMOUR saying –

“Please ask your sense of humour to go visit a doctor”

I was so enraged, I wanted to quit the group immediately; but then I calmed down because my crush replied to her and said –

I am SURE you haven’t watched “Madagascar”

This calmed me down because I started feeling insecure about the fact that I was unsure whether I have watched “Madagascar” or not.

I kept calm and decided that its better if I don’t quit because if I quit then I would not be able to “stay connected” to my crush and other assorted not-so-important people in the virtual social group because then I would not be able to basically check out my crush’s extremely hot selfies (read gym selfie).

Moving on

I cannot keep talking about my crushes.

Right

So yet another guy has managed to break my heart into pieces that float and do not sink in. Not a big deal. I can handle this. I am a grown-up now. Not even a virgin. Shucks. Look where life got me God, I believe in you, how can you make me think that you are unfair.

hung up

on the night time musings that run through your head and make you play one song over and over again till you make those images inside your head just about right.

Nocturnal musing

I am sure I won't be sleeping tonight.

Please eat shit

and die.
Instead of living in my mind; you do not deserve space inside my thoughts.