drama.
Lindsay Lohan.
pathetic to watch when in non-drama phase.
Fakers and fucking bitchers.
includes me, at times like these.

I am scared of life itself.

Hot chick= Mataji

A certain someone i know went to check out The Art of Living foundation's workshop, and saw the very hot babe, well she turned out to be the Mataji for the session, not necessarily celibate, but kills the appetite for a man to call a babe, Mataji doesnt it? yeah well..sometimes tragedy does strike mah man.. jus deal with it.

No intentional hurting please.
No placards walking please.
No aids banners please.
No breast cancer please.
No donations please.
No violating rules please.
No painting graffiti please.
No washing dogs please.
No i-love-you's please.
No leather boots please.
No curly hair please.
No double chin please.
No ipods please.
No motorola razrs please.
No rainy weather please.
No mush please.
No sap please.
No roasted sunflower seeds please.
Yes life please.
Yes leave me alone please.

Blogger beta...
somethings you get used to..
and when they change..
its never as nice as it was...

p.s same feeling as when they changed the layout of 'The Hindu'

How one gets addicted to abhinav jains blog.

mydayzwithmyself.blogspot.com is popular, probably gets a couple of hundred hits a day... no gimmicks no shit. plain hilarious.

Signs of addiction
-Saying i came first, i came first repeatedly in the comments on the newer posts.
-Saying i came second, i came second dito dito from above.
- Saying i came third, i came third dito dito
I hope you're gettin the drift.
-Leaving comments about the most unrelated topics..and definitely not pertinent to the post..I think theyre hoping to get thier few seconds of limelight on abhinavs commenters club.
-Keep checking his blog for a new post twice a day.
-Check and find a post where abhinav wants ISB students to contact him, be disappointed, read it anyway, and then say 'darn if only i were an ISB student maybe abhinav would want to talk to me'. you with the celebrity status and all, and worse leave a post saying 'sorry yaar me not in ISB but are u trying to get into isb?. dumb fuckers he jus got out of an iim next isb next harvard next ?

Now, how does one get addicted?

There is a boy from IIM
There is a girl
There is pottential for a love story - which is vehemently declined- sunshine vs abhinav
There are funny posts
There is munnu chintu pintu talk reminds u of home
There are good number of chances to laugh at abhinavs experiences at IIM
There is talk about food, dirt, chance occurences, references to select bollywood movies
There are unintentional repeat mentions of certain charecters to make them your imaginary friends (kahlveeeen whereee arrtt thhouu?)

Love it. Live it. Blog it.

Friday nights in the district of columbia, listening to the music from nearby parties, alone at home facing the wrath of a person alone in the us of a. Having eaten bread and dal with hot sauce, pretending it is chutney, leaves nothing much left of a friday night. With roommates out partying and you home alone, leaves you only one choice. Comfort in numbers. Comfort in the number of strangers.

Welcome to the maruthi manivarnan community college

Today we are in the esteemed privilege of the doctor of the biggest hospital in gumidipundi who will inaugurate our sports day event. Today our schools most talented children will run the races and then the girls will do the relay drill and make our indian flag shape and make our great father of the nation proud.

Pam Pam Dum Dum.

Cmon childrens run run.

He is back!


Guess who's back? Back again? He is back, tell a friend.

Guess who's back (4) Tada di ta di ta di ta di ta tada da di ta di ta di ta tadada

Life is wonderful once again.

Wasted


How does it feel to be wasted or pasted? Not that I dont know. Its jus odd that they sound so similar and they dont reflect what the words actually, literally mean.

Lemon.Tea.Water.Soda.

Gripe

Its the right girl with the right swing.
How do we 'not so thin' ie 'plump' ie 'fat' women sit with thier legs crossed on a straight high backed chair without your legs hurting? How come they dont shuffle thier legs as much as I do? How thier legs are closer together than mine when i walk. How come I get a shoe bite if I wear boots and they dont?
How come they bring healthy food in thier zip lock plastic bags? How can they afford starbucks everday? Why do they waste thier time waiting in a starbucks line when they can get thier coffee hotter and cheaper next door? Customer loyalty?

How come they can afford pedi and mani-cures? How come some people are so happy in a country where I cant afford a thing!
GAP is the solution, but what would they say if they heard me say that I cant afford that either?
How come I stay home just so I can spend no money on a movie ticket or something else and try to 'experience' the life. I hate not having enough money. It sucks.

I hate thinking who and how I will pay my next semester fees. I hate watching people come back after shopping with goodies that I cant buy, I dont want to spend on.
I watch youtube. Its free you see.

One corny line and your blog is ruined forever.
Blogs are a reputation of sorts.
Blogger or Live journal? where is option c. none of the above?
Why dont they ask that question in multiple choice exams anymore?
Has anyone asked why?
Is our right to choose 'none of the above' being denied to us?
Right to choice also means right of choosing what the choices are.

Feeling: wierd, awkward, down.
Music: the heater buzzing.

Chocolate brown bumpy thickened painted stairs, yellowed creamed crembule coloured ceiling walls.. a glassed bulb of yellowish white light and hand rails of bare minimum pre requisite.
My chat hub.
My fight club.
Buggin hub.
Solace.

My fire exit.
This is the place I get to be when the lights are out, the mind is numb, heart and hard talk both occur in quick succession.

Steps of whisper heard but to quickly fade and die, things are talked and learnt, to relearn and question why, sometimes things arent what they seem, and the fire exit is one of those secret havens.

Sometimes life is not reflective of what you thought it was.
And sometimes you are not what you thought you were.
Life takes some turns to make you realize you came back to realizing you were still the same emotional person you were trying to run away from.

Make life simple.
I hope I never have to do this again.

Froggy Bottom Pub

A shallow young-ish pub with lots of beer and young things and football on tv and a pool table and smart-sorrow-drowning female bartenders and more beer. A basement crammed, cheap and hard wooden benches to sit up straight and listen to the real-life ‘education’. A tv on mute with the commentator furiously talking in subtitles and crazy Americans watching the same money churning sport with eagerness that surpasses their normal lives. Some undergrads, pierced, quite obviously and drowning the bitchy life sorrows over a beer. Glasses are plastic, kegs lined up, and pitchers big enough for night long conversations with friends. The name, to be taken literally, translates into Froggy- the froggy at the door, Bottom- the pub is in the basement. Other than the charming photos of regulars over beer, there is an broken pin ball machine against the wall and a Chinese guy welcoming you!

If you think its a treat to watch people drunk or otherwise, over some good conversation, get froggied and bottomed here!

The tv anchors are the most monotonous of them all, the same enthusiastic voices, the same excitement about a new scoop, but telling the same stories of scandals and war.....

Writing as a sequence of events is of no consequence. Randomness is a variable. Randomness is cool. I think of those who are smarter than me, intellectually, how many people could there be, in a random sample of the population of the whole world?

I don’t think I’d get a very good probability there.

I’m not about to give up, so lets try relative ‘brainy-ness’

Well I don’t know what test to use..

How about we assume that arrogance =1 modesty= -1 and ability to make you feel like these numbers make sense = 0

Pot-Bellied

It’s a warm yellow fuzzy feeling, when you walk through the door, stand in long lines, with people shouting across the room, as dogs lie comfy and sleepy. Crispy wheat, salty mayo and crunchy lettuce, once you’re eaten, you’re pot-bellied @ 5$

PS: If you want to be caffeine-ated @ 1$ - go!
If you want to be Beatle-ed on a rainy day and you’ve been working like a dog- you jus gotta have a yellow submarine or Cliff Richard like really lucky lips. :P

Charming men <->Calculative women ie

Super hot woman -> Dumb men

The smooth talkers have their way with women, and talk their way into relationships, friends, and to the center of the lady’s attention. The lady for her part is calculative and finds the smartest, cash register ringing boy she can find, and treats him like a kid. Both trying hard to show smartness, calmness, and oozing frustration of a different kind.

Go find a motel.

Anyone up for any more equations?

Where is alanis morisette?
There are some very ironic things happening here, and I need a song. It might help if she was naked and was singing in the middle of the road. [ok i know its not the same song, its thank you...so what?]

Feeling: frustrated
Music: surprise, miss morisette.

Correlation is not causality. Well, okay so?
I have my mid terms in a few days, and I have this bad bad gut feeling that I am not going to get that 'A' that i really need. If my hardwork caused me to get the marks i got then i would get ceiling cracking high marks. but its not causality, so i have to settle with the hope of a correlation, that would play out in my mid term.
I have the whole bit of t, f, z, regression, and thier many many versions and SAS, the killer.
This is when i start thinking of alternate careers, the day before the exam-
what if i were a writer?
what if i was an astronaut?
How come i didnt get that strong feeling when i was a kid that I wanted to be a pilot or traveller or some such? Maybe I was too mediocre...stop wait i dont wanna hear anymore.

Bloggin is also a huge waste of the little time before a big exam like this one. I was reading a recent blog on WoW and one of its guild members experience with finally quitting the game.
Its incredible to see/ study how people react to a virtual alternate person they create.
Wether its match.com or WoW it all bring it down to the same thing, virtual reality.

People screw up big time, with thier lives, and i cant afford to flunk the exam coz i am paying through my nose for it, so maybe i should take off this broadband ka cable and go study.
Wat say?

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

I hear her voice
In the mornin hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin down the road I get a feelin
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday...

Where is the soul food?
Where is the starvation?
Where is the song?
Where is my release?

Take me home.

Feeling: Useless.
Music: The sounds in my head.

I just realized that I have not been fuilfilling my soul desires for very long. I have been chasing the money longer than I would imagine. Sometimes its good to be this way, carefree, and doing what comes to you naturally. I feel my writing has suffered. I see so many interesting blogs, blogosphere etiquette, and new rules to the game, and many many people who are funny and intelligent. The blogosphere is the way to osmos-ify the smarter folk. It’s an opinionated society and I am glad all the more. I remember someone who said sometime that “I hate what you’re saying about me, but I would kill for your right to say it”.

I got the comment that my blog, not increasingly, but from the very beginning, has been very personal, and even those who know me fairly well don’t get an idea of what I am trying to say. That dosent say very much about my writing skills now, does it? Well..anyway now that I have a life (LOL) I can say with reasonable confidence that I am here to improve and bring back my writing to what I’d like it to be. And I am not going on an attack on blogs-are-personal-so-I-wont-please-audience kinds. I don’t think anyone who loves to write, writes to impress the audience, like someone said, after writing it feels good to be appreciated. I think this is a trite, stale, rotten old debate and I refuse to delve into it any further. That very last sentence sums up my life, contradiction. I don’t write to please the audience, if you studied statistics, or even otherwise, you would understand that if you are appreciated the first time it is likely that you would want to unconsciously incorporate the audience-factor the next time you are writing, and make attempts to be funny, witty, sound intelligent, among other things, which you might not have done otherwise.

I don’t want to leave, and that’s a good thing, coz I am not being left behind either. I have a cowboy to ride into the sunset with.

Welcome to the USA,
where there are no cows and we dont drive autorickshaws ever in our lives
only meat, no yummy sweets
and no, animals dont bark at any time of morning..

Repeat that 10 times over and you still dont become an american. cha thats so sad yaa.. i thought if we rap and wear baggy clothes we will fit into the brutherhood of the americas... but it yis not so baybeh..

As is probably not yet evident. I am not yet really liking my stay in the USA.

I crib.

I crib and I crib.

I am convinced that Indians hate each other. They look out for "brown skin" thier eyes searching and when they find one - it convinces them that they're cooler/hipper and a more "well-fit american" than the ultra paavam desi tagged with a wife and a kid with a phone too expensive for him to make sure others know the salary is 6 figure in USD- mind it ;)

As of now , I have to admit, I am the petrified Indian, I feel like I'm doing everythng wrong when everyone else seems to know what to do and how to do it. I have a particular problem with restroom faucets. I, very simply, never know how to open them. There are mostly tiny or no buttons, and are never marked. and THE nightmare of my lifetime is the sensor operated flushes. I find it pathetic and as my better half says -"its too intelligent for its own good"
I also have a problem with potato chip packets- they don seem to have the flap we are used to- which means we pull in some random direction and its supposed to open up!
There is a lot of health food stacked up in grocery stores..the biggest of which i have seen is 'safeway'. Its located in the 'watergate building'. Yes the same watergate scandal..of the nixon presidential term.. so your daily interactions with bits of history take you by surprise in DC.
It made me go back and read a bit about the 'deep throat' revelation which came out as Mark Felt in 05. Woodward and Bernstein wrote "All the presidents men", till the point when i read this i thought it was some Sidney sheldon book.. he he..
I bid you adieu with the not so nice feeling of being a misfit and part of a life i dont enjoy just as yet but i hope i can get over it, make some decisions and get things going for myself.

Reached.

I have reached after absolutely no delay or 'real' problems on the way. Thank god. And yes my passport is safe. I feel uncomfortable, but then thats how ur supposed to feel. If i felt comfortable i'd be an american. I am waiting yet to get my daily source of support. Feels awful and sleepy. Somebody save meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!

Nice Cousins.

Cousins are nice people. Not all of you have the good fortune of having good cousins. Atleast definitely not like mine.

I got a Video Ipod.

Go take a skinny dip- maybe you can catch up on the coolness.

When overwhelming things happen to you, you notice, but you tell yourself its a part of evolving into a mature person. It did. I couldnt write anymore. Neither could he. I dunno if it was the extreme happiness or the lack of anything considerably painful. Probably pain was my writing outlet and when that was gone so did the letters, for about 3 years. But everyday of my life is one big thank you to god. And now life got a new sentance. I can write again. :)


PS: its not pain anymore, the neon light says 'Anxiety' is the word-of-the-day. :)

Leaving never makes sense. When the final moment comes when you have to leave, its merely a compulsion. It always is for me. Making rational decisions come fairly easy to me and i dont for a moment think to think of "what if things were not this way". Its all planned out in my head. Plans don work, i realise, but am good at making newer plans as the old ones die.

I hugged my mom for the last time. Yes, for reasons unknown, moms are moms and i'm leaving mine behind. Mom is scared. Mom is alone. Mom is Mom or Meee, as is the degree of excitement.

Its not the other world- its jus the other side of the planet, and it is far, further than I'd like to be. It brings back failed plans of the past- ie to make it big here, and more of those taunting moments of indecision and complete failure. I refuse to leave this country. Its me. I cant be the scented by-the-book american. I like not taking a bath on sundays and asking for extra helpings of pani and dusty woody libraries. But most things don last forever, esp if you are not yet the high achiever you'd like to be, and ur time is ticking. I am as mediocre as a personality can be, right now, but I hope to feel the change soon enough.

Things are much much better now..in a lot of ways i hope the lucky run does not die of a heart attack..i'd rather be prepared for slow death.