Play along

Life and its games. Hide and seek. High jumps. We’ve just got to play along. Lost or found, win or lose, we’ve just got to play along. A lot of times in life, it happens that we lose something so dear to us. Something that we keep wrapped in the most beautiful feeling, safe in our hearts. But before we realise, the bird has taken flight, and there is nothing we can do about it. Blame the nature for not gifting us with wings. After much weeping and gnashing of teeth, we give up the state of denial and accept defeat. And we move on. No, it’s not a choice, time moves at its pace. And we move along. But some day, suppose you find that same bird, perched on your wall, would you still want it? I’m not sure. I feel undecided. Not after all the tears I poured out after its happy bon voyage. It chose to fly. And stopping it was not in my power. I don’t want it anymore. Even the sight of it makes me cringe. It was not the prettiest. But it was mine. And as my love for it faded, I began to notice its ugliness. I wonder what’s so gravitational about that thing which is so repulsive. I can’t stop gazing at it, and I stop worrying about the cringing. The bird and I and our past are attached with strings. Strings that I desperately want to untangle me off. But the strings are strong. And I invested a lot of my strength tightening them in the past. I jumped as high as I could to hold my beloved back. But I couldn’t reach the height of its flight. I gave up. I lost the high jump tournament. But better late than never, I won the hide and seek. But the variations here are that the game went on for months, and the concealed came out of hiding to the den. Maybe the concealed has a continuation game in mind. Maybe he plans a race this time. But I can play better. Much better. I know how to play games within games. This time, I will lead and he will chase. And I’ll watch him floored by my prowess.

Objectification of beauty

Hey gorgeous! I know the world is gaping at you open mouthed. And you’re enjoying the spotlight. I also happen to know you make attempts to catch eyes. I see the pride in your eyes. Your seeds bear fruits. Your charm compels. Your hair falls perfectly without your trying. Your skin radiates with colour. And your dimples bring smiles. Whatever you do, makes the world explode with a honey dipped, sugar coated awwwwww. But if I do the same, the world shakes its head. Your daintiness makes you more womanly than I am. The world has forgotten about what makes a woman or a man. I know everyone is not a doctor, but how can gender be quantitative? If the world likes you more for that prettier face and more interesting body, then, really, the spotlight will last over you for maybe a decade and a half longer. Till your hair greys. I have a few admirers. My family and my real friends. They love me today, and will forever and a day. And they not only see my eyes, they watch my emotions through them. They don’t notice my teeth or my lips while I smile; they watch it reach my eyes. They may not tell me how pretty I look, but they surely tell me I look smart. They may not find me hot, but I know they think I’m beautiful for the person I am. But the world is blinded by the beauty of the face, not the heart. My world is just the opposite. Rewind... Replay. Years ago, my granddad and I. Me – “Thatha (granddad in Telugu) am I pretty?” Thatha – “My granddaughter is beautiful. Did someone say you are not?” Me – “My features are blunt.” Thatha – “So you like sharp features.” Me – “Do I have at least one sharp feature?” Thatha – “All of them are.” Me – (sulking) “You are lying!” Thatha – “To me you are beautiful. Even the crow adores its chick. And you are beautiful.” Forward a few years... And play. Mum and I. me, all decked up. Pink shirt, pretty bracelets and stunning goggles. Mum – “wow! You are a true beauty.” Me – “Awwwww. Ha-ha.” *blushing* Forward a few more years, to a few months back from today. Play. It was never meant to be forever. But it happened. And it was one of the best things. Over the phone to him. Me – “we are not all that tall. And I like wearing heels. Will you mind if I rise to your height or more in heels?” He – “even if you are 6 feet tall, I won’t mind.” Me – “I’m so fat.” He – “fat is better than malnourished.” Me – “let me know before you come. I’m so ugly.” He – “I know what you mean. So much of pain and money wastage at the parlour just to see me? Just wear decent clothes.” Forward to one hour ago. Play. Moody times. Facebook chat. My bff on the other side. Me – “we all have mood swings. I know I’m stupid at times. And this time it got out of control.” She – “Why don’t you get it? You’re perfect the way you are. I’m just very disappointed in you. I mean you have a blog. A job. And what not. It’s really sad to see someone who is so talented and so stunning and the most amazing person by heart doing such stuff due to insecurities.” I’m the most beautiful person alive. And my beauty isn’t visible to the random passerby.

Hugs and happiness :)

Today deserves a blog post :) I woke up to a tight see-you-soon-hug from my sister Vandy. Today was the last day of school for her. The summer break starts from tomorrow. And she’ll be leaving for home. I walked into the hostel with my mother and knocked on Anuradha’s door. She ran out to give me a hug and we walked upstairs together to my room. We exchanged our farewell presents and shared a quick happy chat. Anu is my favourite junior and in just one year together we’ve become awesome buddies. She is like a sister to me and I jokingly hit on her brother. Do you understand the logic? Or, is there any logic? I ran to give Kranti a hug. I received another loud “I missed you” from her and she walked to my room with me to greet my mum. She took her present and ran for her exam. She and I became chudbuds after she joined the hostel in the second year. It took us time to click, because both of us are amazing talkers and equally poor listeners. Then I went searching for Anushri, Shireen and Shilpi. They were all sitting and chatting away in Shilpi’s room. The moment I walked in, 6 arms grabbed me and incoherent screams made me jump up and down and clap my hands like a happy little kid. “Alright you guys, surprise, follow me” I shouted and rushed out of the room. Anushri is my roommate. A total sweetheart. I love her. We share. We care. We are a family of two living under one roof, inside one door. Shireen is my neighbour. Fun and sassy. And her new haircut is awesome. And we all call her Lassue-Le! And we love her. Shilpi is another amazing buddy of mine. She jokes about marrying my mum and I call her my step dad. After the gift distribution, mama gave me a bye-bye hug. I’ll miss her. In the evening Anushri and I went out to buy tuck for the week. And we bought aalu bhujiya and vegetables - one onion, one lemon, one tomato, and a very few coriander leaves to make bhelpuri. Lol. All the bargaining and minimal shopping we do to save up pocket money. Dad spent hours on rescanning a book that I lost. Gosh I’m careless. A mental hug to him. After a few hours of studying hard, we sat down to eat the bhelpuri readied by Anushri. And we played a silly game of multilingual conversing. Shilpi and Anushri speak Asaamese, Shireen and Adina speak Ladakhi and I speak Telugu. So all of us spoke our own languages and pretended to understand what each other said. And we died laughing when we understood a few words. The best part about living in the hostel is accepting and relating to the Pan-Indianism. Oh I forgot to introduce Adina. She is a very soft spoken person. Sweet and loving. Sisterly. Shireen’s cousin. And she lives in the room opposite to mine. At the end of the day, it’s another day over. And today was a good day. Last few days of graduation, last few days in the hostel. And I’m already missing everyone. Lots and lots and lots of love. <3

cook to eat! :)

 The desire for eating chatni was overwhelming. :) Yummm! :) :) I’m fantastic! <3 You should bribe me to cook some for you, you know? :) :D

Dear Yawn,

You are a beauty. But you aren’t welcome. You coerce me into making futile attempts at hard core studying. So don’t come! Don’t cart me away into the walls of wonders. Oh the wonders.

I stand beaming under the bright sun. The azure glow swallows me.  The hearty surroundings, with many hail-fellow-well-met whispers drift across me, and I take it all in.

“Open your eyes” I mentally kick myself.

“No, I like it here” I kick back.

And the mental football continues with my brain whizzing in its socket till I here my mum’s voice threatening to drench me in cold water.

And the cycle continues every few hours. :D

My exams start in another 17 days. And I need to study.

So  -

yawn yawn please wait,

Come at night when I anticipate,

Go knock at the insomniac’s gate,

Yawn yawn please wait! :D

Pleadingly,

The Girl Yawning :D

Insert a mildly interesting title here :D

It has taken me a very long time to like the person I am. This feels good. I’m darn cool! And I love my blog. I can write. I know, after a post every day, I couldn’t force my lazy fingers to typing something here for the past four days. But what to do? Approaching exams. Pounding heartbeat. Ending graduation. Shocking realisation. Wait listing admissions. Too much for a girl to handle, right?

I really can’t think of anything wildly entertaining to say. Mixed thoughts. Hungry now. Will be back with my next post, once my thought process slows down.

Lots of love <3 :)

Almost goodbye graduation. Almost miss you Shakespeare.

I will study. I will study. I will study. Ok. Not happening.

“Your exams start in twenty-two days, Sai” my mum warned me.

Shucks! No! Twenty-two days? Ok today is the first. I have my final, final (final this year, final grad exams) exams starting from the twenty-third May. They go on till the fif^th of June.

You must be wondering what I study. *clears throat*

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m majoring in English. Though I love reading, Literature is not my cup of tea. So if you are expecting Shakespearean jargon, methinks thou art at the wrong place.

Because:

1.       In another forty years, I’ll be ‘old’. Not ‘auld’.

2.       We Indians respond to ‘you’ not ‘thou’.

3.       Friends are friends and cousins are cousins. What did Shakespeare call his aunt’s son?

4.       I spurt meaningful rhyming sentences occasionally. Sonnets are not my mug of ale (a Shakespearean drink – beer made with top fermenting yeast).

5.       You annoy me? I’ll call you git, mental, bitch, ass, bugger, or a few combinations of words with F’s. But surely not ‘jackanapes’ or ‘canker-blossoms’ or ‘poisonous bunch-back’d toads’.

6.       I’m ‘writing’ this post. I’m not ‘writeth’ this post.

7.       ‘It is’ sounds better then ‘tis’. Right? Lazy writers! I don’t appreciate internet language either.

8.       Shakespearean rule – verse for lovers, prose for ruffians, songs for clowns. My rule – verse for poets, prose for casual readers, and songs for singers. Lovers can romance, ruffians can make trouble, clowns can entertain.

9.       My suitor better not compare me to a midsummer’s night dream while wooing me. I’d leave him for living in England in the sixteenth or the seventeenth century.

10.   No I won’t dress like a man to woo a man. Because I’d never be able to banish him or claim his throne. India is a democracy.