List of nice things.

1.Socks that have funny things printed/stitched on them (available in Yelahanka market): Rs.30

2.Post-its from Staples, Bangalore: Rs.30

3.Matteos: Rs.13 for the bus to the city + Rs.80 for a mochachillo = Rs. 93 (Bonus for the red sofa)

4.Cold coffee from Mac: Rs.40

5.Daily breakfast at the Kadey: Rs.5 for Chai + Rs. 5 for peanuts with onion + Rs.10 for half plate pulao/Wangibhat = Rs.20

6.Rutuja's green sweater: Rs.500

7.Lucky ring from Accesorise: Rs.120 (After a 50% discount, that too.)

8.Glitter Hand sanitizer (Twilight woods from Body Works): £2.05 (Don't know how much that will be rupees)


9.Potato wedges from Hakone(2006 prices): Rs.40 for 6 pieces with Tartar Sauce
 
10.Broad sofas: Approximately a lot of money.

11.Clem Snide: Free downloads.

12.Shampoos: Rs 120

13.Muffin man: Rs 15 for brownies+ Rs. 30 for chicken burger = Rs.45

14.Occasional lunch at Ice and spice :Rs 40 for the cold coffee + Rs. 110 for Aglio Oglio pasta = Rs.150.

15.Occasional alcohol: Rs.45 for a quarter Old Monk + Rs. 70 for Foster's Beer = Rs.115

16. Local trips to nearby tourist spots like Hampi/Gokarna: Rs.5000

17.Printing costs (School library + Print Express on Richmond road): *cringes*

18.Plasticine for making product prototypes (Available at Sandeep Book Stores): Rs. 30

19.Non A-C Overnight bus ticket to Mumbai: Rs.750 per person

18.Monthly Balance for texting(applies only for singles): Rs.60

19.Coconut water: Rs.12

20. Going to a real, illegal, haunted house with two of your thinnest friends, coming back with no scratches/ marks of assault, researching the story on the internet and finding someone was murdered in the house, going through the pictures you took of the savage place and finding the face of a ghost staring at you.

Priceless.

21. Coming to college the next day, still trying to forget the face of the ghost, showing it to some disbelieving friends and then being told, it's a doorknob (?) :

Priceless-er.

So this^ is the ghost picture. Except the ghost was actually a doorknob.
Some other photographs from the haunted house.

Medicine cabinet of the murdered woman.

A ruined piano in the house. The house was burnt down by the assailants before they murdered her.

Tash and Deesa in the living room.

Cupboard where we found books on Cross-stitching and recipes for Vanilla Ice cream.

A phone diary we found.

So you see, a lot of nice things cost some money, but the best things come out of a haunted house all of a sudden and cost nothing.

(Well actually that is if you exclude Rs.13 for bus travel and Rs.200 for cold coffee and pasta at Egg Factory that we ate after our adventure, but none the less folks.)

An open letter to a blue man.

As a part of this universe, I have the divine right to ask/ demand/ clarify (for) a few things and you, have the glorified part of answering them (or atleast justifying your actions) or not (In which case, you may lose my vote of confidence).
How is it that you, being something so vague, have the power to draw millions when I, something so tangible have the power to draw none?
Why don't most people question YOUR intentions and what has made them believe that all that you do, is for the betterment of man?
Why are you blue in colour?
Why do you bless only a few with everything and the rest with a few remnants of a few things?
Why do some people strive all their lives to get ONE thing done their way while some others get it laid on a platter?
Why does Karma apply only to some situations and is there a way to beat it? Because HEY, there is someone who really needs a punch.
Do you really think that I would be convinced of your existence in a pandal where middle aged women taunt me to shed of their personal frustration?
Did you think I was that naive as to hold no grudges against you after all these un-eventful years?
What happens to people like me?
Do you ever take time out to bless us with some luck?
Is there really a secret? Or is it just another one of your contrived plans for humanity?
And lastly, when does the world start to give back? When does everything fall into place for me, when people everywhere have their lives all spaced out? When does ANYTHING happen my way, and I don't have to compromise with myself and brainwash myself with the benefits of choosing the second best option?
When does my life become as happy and as beautiful as I imagine it to be?

I know this sounds stern and even, manipulative to an extent. But I need anwers. Solid answers. You should know that I hardly think of your existence anymore, even in times of crisis. Infact your presence has been reduced to being that of the blue man with a set of arrows in his backpack and a monkey worshipping him. There is a woman to his left and another man to his right.

My room-mate believes in you and has a poster of you on her cupboard. It scares me to look you in the eye. But she seems happy and content, which is why I have given you one more chance to prove to me you aren't a poet's imagination but infact real.
If you call yourself God, give me a reason to call you so.
Until then, blue man with arrows, you affect me not.

Because the thing you claim to hate; You do it very well.

आज तुम्हे देखा तो ऐसा लगा,

जैसे इस रास्ते पर सिर्फ तन्हाई ही बिखरी पड़ी है|

आज अचानक आईने में नज़र मिली,

तो लगा ;

यह रास्ते बस बिखरने चली है|
इन पैरों का कहना क्या,
जब एंडीयों  पर यह निशान चुभने लगी है;
आँखों ने नई आवाज़ चुनी है|
यह रास्ते बस बिखरने चली है|


First hindi post.
This must be progress, right?

My lucky cat/tautoro ring in front of my Bombay collage.

 P.S- So, I'm thinking I'll hide a secret song in every post of mine. Some song to go with my mood. The one in this post is quite, quite apt.

And her face glows like that of a hysterical moth.

When he lets her know.

Her eyes, like a dying pod;

They simmer with rage, carving her hollow.

Her anger comes out in fits;

In the dark.

All the blame has stripped her naked.

Stark.

No one reads her lines, her palm.

Drowning in her bathtub, she finds her calm.

Death doesn't scare her, swords bring no harm.

If at all she fears,

she fears

the face

of

the 

woman

facing

her

from

her

mirror.

And the few times she finds that face,

drowning

at

the

pith

of

her

bathtub;

She plays the second fiddle.

She is the second fiddle.

The Second Fiddle: A series.

Concept, Paintings and Writing by Artemisia D.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Last night at Peco's, Em and I were just talking about what we wanted to do in the next few years, like learning a new language, learning how to play the violin amongst other things. And I thought of all the things I used to think I would do, as a kid when I became old enough to do them. After the whole child prodigy thing flopped for me, i.e after I realized I was infact too old to be one anymore, I almost settled for the ordianary life.
Except I didn't expect it to be so dissapointing.
I still feel that people who work long hours in a job they hate just waste away their lives just to be successful. I knew from the beginning of my teenage years that fame and money were the two things I would not run after. Ofcourse, it means that I am now broke with just enough money to afford the cheapest beer and just enough friends to keep me in check. When one of my friends recently spoke about him having 'negative ambition, if that is possible', I thought I'd give it a try.
I did things my way.
I travelled to the city in the worst of health just to get a booklet printed, despite it not being an assignment at all.
I ran to the city, most days of the week just to drink coffee somewhere; wrote an anonymous message about how the world is sorted on paper napkins and hid the napkin inside a book on Extra Sensory Perception.
And despite coming home late after these trips to the city, I sat down and worked.
But I did it my way.
I cleaned my room yesterday after ages and it looks so tidy now, I  feel like a monk. And like Em said, I didn't do it for a prize or for anybody in particular. It might make me look like a psycho but, I really didn't.


Then where has this floating, ambitionless lifestyle got me? Can I really complain, since I didn't really ask for anything?

Anyway, the reason I feel this dissapoint is because you can't live like this, ambitionless, until and unless you have gotten rid of many other issues that must be tackled first.

Is there ANYTHING I really want, to happen?
Yes, there is.
I keep hoping that this time, I might just get lucky and it might just happen. Yet, every day passes by and somedays I have to make myself believe that tomorow things will change.
Most days when I feel that I'm living for a really silly dream of mine, I run to the city to change that.
I take a bus and sit in a coffee shop and make myself look at new people because I feel stagnant.
Other days I come home feeling hurt at some random comment someone made and cry.
I hate crying now; it makes me feel weak.
I shouldn't be crying if I wanted nothing out of my life.
Maybe I am a hypocrite who wants to go around showing the world how less I care about grades or people's feelings.
Maybe somewhere, I wanted to become that person. That stone.
But I'm no stone and even passing comments or even my own imagination has the power to make me come home and cry. Have you EVER heard of anyone who cries just because SHE IMAGINES situations that MIGHT be coming true?
I think that's why I like drinking myself into a state where everything seems funny and routine life doesn't matter anymore. When I am drunk, I laugh more; feel like my life is worth more than I think. When the lights are dim and all of us are dancing, I dance too.
It is then, that I feel like noone is watching. No one cares.
And THAT is what I want to keep feeling all the time, for the rest of my life.

Maybe people are right y'know? When I came to art school I thought I was incredibly normal compared to the other peirced, tattooed, jhola'd spawns. Now even the people here find me weird. I'm turning into this cold person with issues. Serious issues.
I don't want to tell anyone what the real reason for that is, like, not even on this blog. Not even Em or Unat or Ika. I don't want them to know, if ever, that I am mildly sad. It puts me on this powerless position that I don't to be in. At the moment, I am hardly, not even mildly sad. I am just affected by the little things. If ever, I do feel that way, I don't want them to know.

Till then, I'll just pretend to be this stone with no feelings. And run to the city when I need to be stronger again.

One happy day, two years back.

I could design accordion booklets all my life.



Frontside of the booklet.

 


Backside of the booklet. Read left to right. Written and designed by me. (Price: Rs. 100 + delivery charges.) You may also send in some of your own poems to be bookletted if you want.




That's what she said Tee. (Price : Rs. 350)  Price negotiable.



(Price : Rs. 350-400, will confirm soon) Price negotiable.

 



Specially for 'The Smiths' fans. And if you don't listen to The Smiths, well, you should.

(Price: Rs.375) Especially this song.



(Price: Rs.350 ) Who's yo Daddy? Say it bitches.



(Price: Rs 350) Nerd Kissss. :*

(Price: Rs 375) Header Tee. Creepolaa.

  
*Prints available. Tee shirts available in round necks. Custom designed Tee's and accordion booklets can also be bought, just mail me the specifications. Contact on mail (adritadas@hotmail.com)


P.S: Quite broke and need money to buy a DSLR. :P

Kaivi dite jais?

Things I have been doing/ am doing/ have been procrastinating about :

1) Making Typography collages, posters, and everything related to typefaces and fonts. Hm, interesting stuff. Hence the Helvetica font used for this post, though personally I am more the Bauhaus 93 'type'. Oh, I am such an art snob. ;)

2) Brushing up on languages. A bit of Mandarin, courtesy Em's Chinese dictionary, a bit of Hindi and a bit of Gujarati, courtesy Karmacy*.

3) Checking facebook every five minutes.

4) Updating the newly created Flickr account (that has most of my photography work till now) and adding random Hindi headers to all of them.

5) Designing a T-shirt.

6) Going to Richmond Road to get A3 size printouts and will eat at Mac** which is around the corner. Actually I think I am going only for the food.

7) Gathering ideas on how to make money this summer and save up for my DSLR, if ever I get one, some of which include Wedding Photography, making lampshades out of photographs, working at McDonald's, Pet photography.

8) Blogging.

9) Flipping through old family photos that I had scanned this winter.

10) Thinking about some people and trying to remember all the nice things they ever said ;) Hmm.

11) Listening to Karmacy's 'Blood brothers' for the fourth time this day, which explains the title.

That's about it. :)

*Karmacy : Karmacy is this Gujarati Rap band that sings about real Indian issues and SO well. Their lyrics are deep and changed my views about NRIs and Rap music completely, two very sensitive topics.
Here's a song by them : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qV-fAYd4RP8&feature=related

**Mac (NOT McDonald's) : It's this tiny eating joint near Richmond road that Em had taken me and Unat to, and thank the bloody lord for that. That place has the best Chicken sandwiches and their coffee scores an incredible 9.325 out of my 10 point scores.( more than Georgia's 8.945).


P.S: Since I love coffee so much and I can accurately judge ANYTHING on a 10-point basis, upto 4 decimal points, I have decided to rate everything on a scale of coffee. For example, Karmacy scores a 8.5640 coffees, which is quite damn high and the autowaalas in Bangalore score a 3.762 which is what they deserve.