The last sentence of this post contains confidential information.

Dear 17 readers,

Congratulations for being the only 17 to be able to read this post. The blog, now being private shall be more  personal so you may un-invite yourself or unfollow as you may please. I am headed to Auroville for the mid-terms midst a lot of confusion and frustration. Also, my mood swings are now a character of their own, shedding tears at will, being rude to unsuspecting people and sitting on swings and swinging further. Apologies for sounding very urbane-emo. Let me tell you of happier things: Father got promoted, hair does not suck so much, Theatre was fun. Atleast I got to do SOMETHING this time around, however amateurish it may have looked to someone outside the course. I feel fatter and less happy every day but it's cool. Just mood swings. Terrace looks more beautiful when sad, an observation.

Okay thanks bye,
Adrita.


(See, now you know my name. I am also very vaguely disappointed at a random fact. The word vaguely was put in so I sound less like a loser.)

Semester One.

I'm writing mindless essays with my fucked up vocabulary about some fucking feminists and jumping around awkwardly during Theater and being cranky for no reason and eating laddoos and getting fatter and getting subliminally insulted by people every 10 minutes and then feeling emotional about random speeches made by the college Director and High School is repeating itself and friends are being rude to friends and calling it a joke and no one wants to get to know other people better and still stuck up on the 'moti bhais' jokes and why is there a sudden surge in everyone, including me, to seem cooler than the others?




I think I should leave college and sweep floors at Auroville, get some peace and some fucking bread.

P.S: This blog may go private next week, unless of course changes for the better. Also, if I have been rude to you in the past two days, SORRY. IN CAPS.

The bucket was red.

The earliest memory I have of my life, is a really strange one. I was sitting inside an auto-rickshaw, on my mother's lap, along with other children and their mothers. I don't really remember where we were going, just that it was an important day. Something tells me it was my first day of pre-school but it could have been a vaccination date for all I know. My father was washing his car. No wait, maybe his gate. He was definitely washing something since he had a bucket and a mug in his hand. As the auto kept moving away from the house, the silhouette of my father  waving goodbye kept getting smaller. Maybe it was the early morning fog or maybe my then-undetected amblyopia or just my loss of memory but he kept blurring as the auto moved forward. As babies, I am assuming, we don't really know the value or significance of a family member. To us, he or she is just another random person that lives in the house, feeds us Cerelac, changes our diapers. They hold no meaning, no background, no emotion. As my father waved goodbye, I felt that I finally understood what he was. I remember knowing that the silhouette of the only man on that street with a bucket was related to me. Perhaps this realization was the only reason I remember the scene. I've felt this connection with him only twice in my life. The second memory is of the day I left Bombay. 

I was inside the train with my mother, again. And as the train started moving I saw my father waving me goodbye. It was only the second time I've seen him get teary eyed.

Fathers never change.

This strange, strange world.

The rules are played out differently here, written by the most foolish, the most cunning.
All these fascists, with opinions to appear smarter, solutions to change the world, money to feed the poor, money to feed off their friends; they all sit on the maroon chairs and loom over their twitter profiles.
They start from scratch.
They begin with the inconsistent pawn. They make them their friends.
Then they move on to the bigger, grimier, shady pawns. They make them their acquaintances.
After this, they start with the bulbous, slimy, hairy pawns. They sleep with them.
Then one night, when the money seems alright and the silence plays low, they bring out their rolling papers,
and begin.
They call the inconsistent one, to crack the jokes no one finds funny.
They call the shady one, to bring the stash.
They call the slimy one, to fondle through the night.

They play,
They score,
They win.

This strange, strange world.

Meanwhile in the same town across the moon, some commoners with very less money cry. They cry, not because they don't win the game of life; they cry because they always played the fair game.

They cry for the strangers in this strange, strange world.

News Flash.

1) Everyone's life sucks right now, I feel. Mine too.
2) Workaholic days are JUST about to begin so hopefully I'll be a little less lazy in the coming few weeks.
3) New friends are happening to me.
4) I feel like a very uncool senior but don't want to push it.
5) Have to do a futuristic FASHION photoshoot. Very Lady Gaga-ish. Fack. Why do I tend to always take up things I know NOTHING about.
6) Got paid for internship.
7) Coffee addiction has only increased with the Umesh Mess. Count per day has increased to 3-4 cups daily.
8) I still don't know a lot of seniors and cannot make eye fucking contact.
9) No scandals to emerge stronger from.
10) Deflated expectations suck.
11) New campus is office-y but more urban so it's cool.
12) Collecting Coca Cola cans.
13) Ugly pictures are being tagged on Facebook.
14) Bye.

A song for Laurie.

You haven't seen the world, Laurie.

Some day you will meet a very strong woman. You will want to be her, with all your sweat and soul.

Don't follow her around too much, she will pass on her puny fingers with which she blames the foolish.

People are foolish, Laurie.

They act after reading only a few words. These people don't make it to their own epitaph, let alone their epiphany.

Don't cry when things don't work out, they usually don't. And tears are precious lubricants. Don't laugh too much at once, people may grow suspicious.

Fuck people, Laurie.

Follow your instincts instead. Information is so readily available today that minds and relationships have become mundane, calculative attempts at being happy. I hope that you will one day wake up to realize that all those years you spent whining were wasted on that one morning that you wake up and just know it.

Write, Laurie.

History has proven time and again that people who write remain longer. Colognes fade with the years, pages turn yellow, bodies decompose into the soil. 

You haven't seen the world, Laurie. People will approach you many a times to tell you this, whispering this fallacy into your ears like the messengers of the Prophet. The truth is, you never will.

No one ever does.

Distractions be distractin'

List of things I need to do this year at college:

1) Make Butterbeer with uh, Beer and some butter.
2) Learn how to bake. Cookies and treakle tart. (snigger)
3) Buy myself a hard disk. Yes, I don't own one.
4) Keep room hygienic and clean.
5) Wash utensils right after they have been used and not postpone it to a week later.
6) Forget some people.
7) Text old school pals.
8) Skype more.
9) Reduce expenditure on over-rated coffee that tastes like pesticide.
10) Owe no money to people, pay immediately.
11) Visit the city more often, without friends.
12) Explore new places to eat/ drink in the by-lanes of Brigade road, with friends.
13) Try more cuisines, not just pasta and cold coffee.
14) Save more money, buy more (cheap) clothes.
15) Make a different hairstyle every week, without cutting down on it's length.
16) USE THE HAIR GEL.
17) Use post-its, not just save them up.
18) Write secret messages anonymously in public places and hide them somewhere it makes sense.
19) Eat dinner on time and not 12:30 at night, alone at the mess.
20) Watch atleast two movies a week.
21) Download more music.
22) Play music while working. Play it on the second highest volume.
23) Detract from people who may judge/ snigger at the choice of music.
24) Don't give away secrets that may make life miserable.
25) Remember to get change before getting out of the bus.
26) Do not abuse bus conductors  in Kannada.
27) Walk to college instead of Auto.
28) Build metabolism for walking faster.
29) Cut nails on time.
30) Focus only on work, no one else.
31) Charge cellphone every day, charge camera everyday.
32) Shampoo at night.
33) Wear earrings to parties.
34) DON'T FACEBOOK ON DAYS YOU ARE SAD.
35) Read all the Harry Potter's again.
36) Be nice to foundies.
37) Don't act too cool at the Fresher's party.
38) Don't close your eyes after drinking, it will only make you puke.
39) Complete the social interventions that have been ideated for weeks, like the Facebook intervention.
40) Get a life or something.
41) Treat seniors as equals and be less scared of humiliation in front of them.
42) Don't work for free.
43) Grow some lemons/ plums/ kadhipatta in the bungalow garden.
44) Spend evenings on the terrace, cloud watching.
45) Call up Jo when things go wrong.
46) Buy a new pillow.
47) Share your wit with new people as well.
48) Search for scholarships abroad, just as an option.
49) Create a separate portfolio outside college work.
50) Be nice.
51) Respect typefaces other than Helvetica and Bauhaus 93.
52) Don't judge people who make powerpoint presentations with a deep brown background colour and a Lucida Console typeface.
53) Think about sexuality. Explore some unsolved questions. Do not contact a sexpert though.
54) Research more about hermaphrodites and the third sex.
55) Don't get upset at the word midget.
56) Meet more people.
57) Talk to nerds.