One more tiny secret.

I want to tell you everything.

New header.
Made especially for all you stoners who wish to view the world in 3D again.
No, actually I'm just really into the Cyan phase right now.

"Cum dwn fast. Adda in 5 mins..Btw, get my HP7 also with u :P"

I remember sitting with you guys on the cold granite mosaic on hot summer nights till the lights went out in the park. talking.
The four of us, watching the kids run from the slides and housewives splashing around in the pool trying to lose weight, talking.
We were young teens with short, un-shampooed hair, hairy legs. We were still trying out different smiles and pulling faces to check which ones look best.
We were at an age when all of us unanimously claimed we'd never find love. Or even a boy who might like us back. We agreed to marry each other if we found noone by the time we were 35.
But ofcourse, we hoped that day would never arrive.
We were such kids back then.




Everything changed today.
All three of them have someone to text the night away with, tonight. Only I don't. They're so happy to have found some affection.
Maybe I was the sore thumb in the group, afterall.

Why, hello.

A film made by me.
:)

Hello there, everywhere.

People and things I would like to thank :

Charles, for her spirit and her strawberry cornflakes with milk.
Tash, for the acting and also, song suggestion. And maybe pointing to inappropriate things in the room and making us laugh.
Krit, for lending us her house for shooting even though we smoked up the mirrors in her lobby and tore her newspapers( and threw them out from the balcony).
Krit's fancy building, which had amazing elavators and which made me miss home after a long time.
Saddy for being the non-existent assistant director and also casting director (I'll forgive the fact that I'd already asked them to act before she cast them).
Unat, for telling me what parts of the concept sounded lame.
Kaash, for helping with the Youtube downloader.
Deesa, for making me Badam milk when I was cringing with pain after having skipped dinner and breakfast the next day.
Roo, for hugging me all the time.
The scary poster of a blue man on my roomie's cupboard that I challenged about finishing the movie on time  and ofcourse, won against.
Mom and Dad, for not freaking out when I didn't answer calls for a week and not calling the warden out of panic.

And lastly.
Adobe Premier Pro, for not hanging on me even once. And for being so nice with the effects and everything.
Surely, you deserve a hug.

"What's UP, Science BITCHES?"

Dear Manish,

Remember that one day when we were sitting at the last bench during English class, in the beginning of 11th, talking about our past and Ms. Geeta scolded us for not paying any attention to Macbeth and his misery?
And then the next day, during EVS period when we were talking about our future and Ms. Jones scolded us for not paying any attention to Acid Rain and it's after effects?
And then the day after, during physics class when we were talking about our biggest mistakes and Khatri Sir scolded us for not paying attention to- well whatever it was that he was teaching?
And then somewhere in the next few days during English class again when we were talking about that one line in Chetan Bhagat's Five Point Someone that inspired us to take life a little more seriously and Ms Geeta scolded us for not listening to Macbeth's bravery (Quite the Valour's minion, full of the milk of human kindness :D)?


Well, I miss having someone like you in my present Bangalore life.
Someone I can talk to about the past, the present and whatever it is beyond today.
Someone who can go beyond the similar conversations about work, crushes or relationship troubles.
I'm tired of questions like "How much work do you have left?" and "Why do you look sad today" and "Don't you think they should go out?"
I am sick of conversations about nothing.
I want to talk to someone about everything without being judged about it the next day. I want someone beyond the friend zone who will be indifferent to what I say.

We may not talk anymore the same way and I haven't heard your voice in 3 months but I still remember all the things I told you, sitting in the last bench during school.
At a time when I was confused about my own opinions you came along and cleared things out for me.
At a time when all I did, was for others, a self-righteous badass like you came along and made me realize I needed to build my individuality.
Today you'd be proud of me, I know that. I had a bad day and the moment I realised how bad it was going to get,I went off to just roam the city on my own. Today I realised the power of drinking cold coffee, reading a book sitting on the steps of a bookstore by yourself and then running to catch a bus.
I ran.
And I'm pretty sure I ran faster than I ever have.

That made me miss my soul-searching moments.
My conversations about myself.
My conversations with you.
You.

You'd be proud of me today. You'd give me a Bro Code fist bump and say "Abbey teri Bangalore ki maa ki."



Love,
Chiku.

P.S: HAHAHHAHAHA. Noone calls me that anymore. I'm even starting to wish they do.

I get scared when people tell me I "still look the same".

Really?
You mean to say I still look like the biggest dork around with green braces and a balding head and thick framed glasses (mind you, they weren't so 'in' at the time. If it had been I would have been the coolest kid in town)?
I was awkward and didn't know what to do with my arms for the most part.
And I had a unibrow for heaven's sake (which I shaved off later with my father's razor BTW) and I was so insecure about how I looked in my school uniform, I wore safety pins, very neatly concealed within the shirt to make it look like I was cool enough to not tuck-in my shirt but not trouble-worthy anyway.

And you still think I look the same?

Insult.
Thu.

My stars are placed wrongly (II)

I am officially, in debt.
A huge debt.

One tiny secret.

I don't know where to stop.

Sometimes, I crack a joke or further someone else's joke without accounting for the feelings of the person the joke is upon.
And I don't know where to stop.
I keep doing it mindlessly, again and again, without noticing how it may affect the people around.
It's that one insensitive part of me and I have hurt many, MANY people this way.
Some call me annoying.
"Kuch jyaada hi ho gaya iss baar."
I never know where to draw the line and it is a mistake on my part.
Most times, I begin sentences before knowing how I am going to end them and by the time I do, I realize how awkward it gets.


Anyway, for this one tiny flaw amongst my other major flaws, I'm sorry.
To all those people I've ever made fun of, whether I cracked a joke about the shape of your head or your fancy new tiffin box or embarassed you with your old photographs in front of friends.
I'm sorry.
I don't think I ever realized the point where I crossed the line.
And trust me, Karma is an old friend of mine and it comes back to get me almost always.


P.S: Sorry yaar Tash. :(

Bobby Chadda is my muse for the week.

I have been observing him all day, watching his videos, imitating his brilliance and just basically sharing his wisdom with the rest of the world. I think I should take up imitating people as a part time proffesion. I don't mind the long hours on YouTube for research and I am an efficient networking scholar (in short, stalker). And I love it  when people laugh. I think it's the only thing that keeps underpaid jokers alive.

Apart from the overdose of Mr. Chadda, what has been causing me to lose sleep is some people from my past who I never wanted to see again, showing up as mutual friends of some friends from college.

No no, nothing great happened in the past.

I just happened to piss them off after they dissed me off. And since everything happened on Facebook, things were even more ugly. We threw each other out of our friend lists and the day school ended, I was sure I wouldn't have to face them again.

The situation of our meeting hasn't arisen yet but I fear some bad mouthing,withing their circles.

So the lesson for the week is :

1)Never add anyone on Facebook before conversing with them in real life AT LEAST twice.

2)Try and be on good terms with most people. You may think you'll never see them again, but then one fine day they pop out of nowhere and awkwardness is bound to happen.

In other news, I started using watercolors after nearly four years (the last time being, painting an aster for the Intermediate Art exams) and it turned out quite nice. SO, I'm going to buy myself some new cakes and paint. 

I also acted in a movie for a course on grading systems in India. I had to play the role of Siddhu from the movie Ghulam, which was easy since I've been imitating the chappris and taporis of Mumbai since forever. Oh and Esmaralda fractured her arm so we (Unat and I) had to take her to the hospital (actually just accompany her, Esmaralda even fought with the autowalas over money while the two of us just stood there). It was my first time at a hospital alone and I realized how socially inadequate we were. This realization dawned upon me only while I was made to fill up the registration form for Em. I didn't know her age, her birth date, her father's name amongst other significant details. On the sidelines, I have started opening up to more people in the college and friend circle is widening, yes. The second semester has been amazingly good to me in that sense. Even the scary big senior smiled at me once when he helped me pick up some papers I'd dropped. Can't be bad. The weather here, right now is teribble. Very Bombay like. I am sweating all the time, hungry all the time and tired all the time. Reminds me of the ISC days. *shivers* 

That's it for now folks, have assignments to do before I sleep.

Assignments to do before I sleep.

"All men are equal. Some men are more equal than the others but they are equal. Women, on the other hand are not equal. Some ..need to lose weight. But basically all men are the same. Equal. And then there's me. Bobby Chadda."

Purple pyjamas.

Latest addition to the sidebar is not me.
Fo sho fo sho.
It's Esmaralda standing in front of her wall of fame in her Purple pyjamas.

The girl with the Red pants.

Ko 1 is in touch with her body.

She knows what kind of fabric and cut will suit her figure.
Ko 2 is also in touch with her body. She has a mind free from the hassles of what people may think of her. She has found that time in her routine to think about what she wears and she really doesn't care as long as it looks good.
Ko 3 has found her elegance and her body moves with the same steps her mind takes.

Other than the three ko's there are millions who have found that comfort in themselves.
They move around freely and everything they wear looks good on them.
These people have fine hand movements and they have found a characteristic walk. It makes people imitate them with ease.
They aren't scared of moving to the music in their minds.
They jump higher than the others and they don't feel shy of singing out loud along with their ipods.
They are proud of how in or out of tune they are.
In a discussion they know exactly how to get heard.
They don't mumble.
They aren't scared of acknowledging fashion.
They get angry when they see people ruin their bodies.
They get angry when they see people who haven't accepted and embraced their own bodies. A few times they help the others get over their fears.

They tell them that time is running away and fear is only in the mind.

They dance. They act. They make music.
They may not be perfect at anything but they have something to be SO proud of.
They are in tune with themselves. They have a rhythm inside their bodies.
I know, you may say that others are good at something more gentle, like painting. But not being comfortable in your own body, that's a MAJOR handicap. And the people who can't dance, it's because of just that.
Maybe no one tells them this but it takes guts to sing your favourite song out loud in the bus full of people.
It takes guts to voice your opinions despite your imperfect shrill.
It takes courage to wear high waist pants to a college full of bermudas.
And it definately takes guts to wear hot red pants to college on a random day.

These people should never be called average or attention seeking or shallow.
These people wear, walk, dance and sing their minds.
They don't care much for what others think. Maybe they lost that fear when they were young.

They can storm up a party without the alcohol. These people are usually the life of every party and many times, the life of many lives.
They are anything but ordinary.
Here's to all those who have found their rhythm. You make our lives more colourful and fun and un-restrained and make us all aim for that courage inside of us. You make us want to celebrate our bodies and our youth.

Especially you, girl with the red pants. You aren't average to me.


P.S: Copy paste this to anyone you know, who owns red pants. Let them know how lovely they are. :)