the month of the rat - a love story with a difference

(side(y) note:hmmm..the title does have all the necessary trappings of a B-grade horror flick.. )
so
this is a story.. a love story nonetheless.. about a girl, her vehicle and THE RAT..
it is a love story with ' difference' ..
i believe that's kinda obvious from the main characters themselves.

the girl in question is me (duh!), the vehicle in question is my faithful kinetic honda- my kiney (those of you waiting for dashing batmobile type vehicles, go bury yourselves) and the rat in question , is THE RAT( haha)

as with all love stories with a difference .. we were in love
i love my kiney .. it is my most faithful, most loyal companion. i have spent many a happy time riding about on it, it is a symbol of my independence..sigh! i love it with all my heart.
when i left home for college, the parting was painful. i cried over my kiney's seat while my parents stood around with confused expressions on their faces.. when i used to phone home, my dad used to hold the fone to the kiney's dashboard so i could croon sweet nothings to it..
ok... this para is a victim of chronic digression..but u get the picture, rite??
so i was in love. and when my dad suggested sending my kiney over to me in college..i was over the moon!
so the kiney joined me in college , where it met all my pals and soon became our personal limousine.. oh we had fun days, wobbling around the shameful excuse for a road, screeching around in the rains and basically allowing our waistlkines to distort to mammoth proportions ,considering we refused to walk anywhere..
if i had my way( and if i could get the kiney inside the house) i would have used it to drive from the bedroom to the bathroom (and my bathroom was ensuite)

as with all love stories with a difference.. there was a villain!
our happy ending was not to be. dark clouds loomed, lightning forked across the sky, doors creaked and curtains fluttered in the evil wind.
enter THE RAT.

i woke up one bleak morning to find that my kiney refused to start. i coaxed, cajoled , bribed(by putting in extra petrol) and wept .. nothing doing. the engine coughed , sputtered and died.
in great trepidation, i paid a visit to the vehicle hospital - (the mechanic to all you ignoramuses).
in love story with a difference fashion , my vehicle was wheeled in on a stretcher with multiple sounds of beeping and bleeping while i held onto the gurney and looked deeply into its headlights.
actually ..
i strained and shoved and somehow managed to drag my kiney to the mechanics in the sweltering heat.
the doctor ..er..mechanic checked out the bike while i waited anxiously in loving girlfriend with a difference fashion.
verdict: hole in the heart..er..the petrol pipe. according to the mechanic, the petrol was not reaching the engine coz the connecting pipe had a hole in it.
i was devastated and the best blow was yet to come. as the doctor ..dammit!..mechanic diembowelled my beloved kiney, he informed me that the culprit was a rat..
what? a rat? uptil now, rats had been peripheral in my view of the world.. they were just furry, ugly ,smelly creatatures on seeing which one was supposed to jump onto a chair and yell for help .. at least that's what the movies told me.
i never knew they could harm me in such deep,dark ways, my motto was 'keep out of their way and they'll keep outta yours'
hmpf..so much for clean living and wishful thinking!

yet, i was ready to forgive and forget.. maybe THE RAT was hungry, maybe it had been kicked outta its tribe and hadn't eaten for days, maybe it was anorexic.
i really believd it wasn't personal.
HA!

i woke up the next morning to find ,to my dismay, that my kiney wouldn't start again!! a quick trip to the mechanic confirmed my worst fears - THE RAT had struck again.
i was furious - i swore revenge! i would hunt the rat down , slay it and hang its corpse up for all rats to see and fear. i was not to be messed with! I WOULD AVENGE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!
easier said than done.

i started small.
that nite , i parked my kiney a little further from its usual spot.. in the belief that the rat would be confused and lost and would obligingly move onto the neighbor's car ( i really didn't like them) ..
but oh no.
little did i rrealize this RAT was trained for such eventualities, maybe it was part of a rat controlled al-qaeda network, trained in desperate acts of terrorism. this RAT had a personal vendetta.. it hunted out my freshly recovered kiney and proceeded to chew the pipe with gusto.. in the same spot!!! really , show some originality!

the next few days were a blur.
THE RAT continued its frenzied attacks .
the mechanic, his cronies and I were on first name terms by now ( i do believe he saw me more often than he saw his wife and we had gotten into a comfortable routine of sitting together and chatting about philosophy while sipping tea. indeed his evening slot was reserved for me )
my college work was suffering considerably keepin in mind the fact that i now devoted all my energies into outwitting the rat. while the rest of my classmates sketched beautiful garments, i drew elaborates sketches of THE RAT in various stages of torture)
my bank balance was steadily depleting due to the continued trips to the mechanic( though he did offer me a lifetime membership on a discounted rate)
i had tried all manners of rat poisons and sprays . i was on the verge of taking a few myself
my waistline ( and my housies') had defintly improved as we had had to rediscover the use of our legs.
my kiney was in a sad state - defeated and bed (garage)-ridden. its glorious era was now almost at an end .

and then as suddenly as they had started, the attacks stopped. i stared at the kiney in disbelief as the engine sputtered and roared to life. apparently, the kiney couldn't believe it either as the engine coughed in surprise. but there it was, after almost a month of living under comstant threat of imminent attack.. we were free!
the skys were blue again, sun was shining and the sunflowers swayed in the gentle breeze..
THE RAT failed to return.. i can only hope it choked on the pipe it used to gobble everyday and tumbled into a drain. i will never know . my desire to mummify it will remain unfulfilled.

and so
in love story with a difference style, my kiney and I were reunited . we rode through many bumpy junctions together, we terrorised people on the road by our daring moves and we crashed into many a bush together.
i finally achieved my happy ending

.THE END.

i wish it wasn't so

i wanted to write about something else...i had a few fun posts jotted down in my head...
i didn't have time before today..and ironically... now i just don't have the heart for it.
first and foremost, if any of you are one of those who run for the hills at the hint of any emotional outbursts... kindly do not proceed further. .
i don't know if this will make any of you feel uncomfortable.. and right now, i just don't care. i'm writing this just for me; it's just a way for me to vent out my feelings.

things have been going wrong . i know i can't control it but nevertheless, i try. i can't see everything just self - exploding in front of my eyes and just hang around doing nothing at all. i don't know what's worse .. knowing things will go downhill even if you do nothing or trying your best to stop it, and yet see it all go down downhill.
it's so hard.. seeing the people you love hurting themselves . i try to make it stop .. i believe it can..i want to believe i can make it all better. i try .. i try.. coz i love them . i've seen it time and again .. do some people know how much they can hurt others? most of the time, you ending up hurting those people you love the most ? why?? why does this have to happen? and is this the solution?
will your problems be solved if you can hurt the people you love the most? will other's misery make yours any better? why do people do this?
do they know how i desperate i feel? do they know what goes on inside my head? do they know that i don't want to be here? do they know that i would give anything to not be a part of this? don't they know that i love them? don't they know that it kills me to see them like this? don't they know i'm filled with blind fury at my inabilty to make it all better? do they like doing this to themselves? will shutting yourself away make it better? will saying cruel words make you feel better?
when they push me away, don't they see i'm trying to help? i really really believe i can soothe it all, just please, give me a chance. the smallest problem can make me cry.. people think its a sign a weakness.. how wrong they are.. the absence of tears won't make you a stronger person.. .the courage to face up to your emotions will..
however , all i can say is .. for whatever reason.. i can't cry right now...

the past 2 and a half weeks have been some of the worst of my life.. and the best part is.. they've been so normal.. i've been so normal .. i still eat, i still argue, i still read , i still work, i still watch tv..
i gues it's the age old human tendency to normalize any situation.. funny..the more normal you make it seem.. the more abnormal it feels.
i don't know where to go.. i don't know what to do.. i don't feel helpless, i just feel weirdly detached. dull and numb.. even if i wanted to talk to someone, i wouldn't know what to say.
i want to store this experience away for future reference, i want to say that i won't let anything like this happen ever again when i'm the one in control.. and yet, i don't know if i can do that. i've hurt a lot of people a lot of times, i've said so many things that i feel like killing myself whenever i think of them. what's to say i won't do this in the future again? am i any better than the rest? if possible , i'm worse..
everybody says that they would never intentionally hurt their loved ones.. how fake that is. the most hurtful things are said with just that purpose in mind.. coz when you love someone and someone loves you, you're accessible to that part of that person that is the most private.. you hav the ability to hurt the deepest.
i've seen and heard so much recently, there is so much stuff i don't want to know.. so much stuff i don't deserve to know. what good will come out of it ? i can't rewrite history, i can't make it all better ,i can't make the pain go away? so what justifies me knowing all this stuff..?
if anything it makes me bitter.. it makes me angry knowing that some things will always come back to haunt you.. some things you just can't do anything about, but which people will insist on dragging out and brandishing in your face..
please stop it! let the past be, even if you can't forget and/or forgive.. at least don't mention it again.. what is the point of hurting yourselves over the same issue again and again and again?? please, just let it go.

life is weird. we are all born happy. it's all very simple ..
and then life starts wreaking it's vengeance on you.. all it wants is to make you bitter. kill your spirit. still, hope springs eternal.. i still hope that it will all get better , i still hope that this will end. i still hope that it will all pass.
coz i can't bear it.. i can't bear seeing those faces again.. so much hurt .. so much anger.. so much negativity.. it just kills me.
through all this i just want to thank God for a few small mercies.. sometimes when you have to care for someone else, protect someone else .. it all makes you stronger. and i thank God for making me realize that.
life isn't about yourself.. or only about yourself. it's also about others .. i know sometimes i just wanna say what the hell, let me be.. i want to avoid it all by suprressing everything .. but just knowing that someone depends on me to be strong .. to show them a way out of this.. makes me remain sane.

so like i said, i really wanted to write about something else.. i didn't want to make people cringe when they read this. but i really find it hard to write anything else when i'm in this frame of mind..

i have a dream

in the last post , i was getting all senti about school.. i guess it would be appropriate to now start getting senti about college.. it's all supposed to be going in ascending order .. first childhood , then schooldays and now college..

its like i'm living my whole life again through the posts - everytime i sit down and write about the times gone by , i find myself facing an avalanche of memories and as i sift and sort through it all , it dawns upon me how insurmountable this task is. i produce a few words although they are completely inadequete in aptly expressing my thoughts and i am left with a vague sense of dissatisfaction.

writing about my time spent in college is too difficult right now. i can't face it. as they say, the wound is raw.
i guess it's because i'm still in the phase of denial.. depression , anger and an inexplicable feeling of loss are next . acceptance is a long, long trek away .. the memories are too freshand bright to even be classified as memories as yet.
most of what i'm going to write now will sound like a load of rubbish to most people and i can understand that. understanding and appreciating somebody else's passions, desires or hopes is an impossible task. only the person concerned can feel their intensity , drive and fire.

to me college was much more than just three years of education with a whole lotta fun thrown in..
and this is why.
ever since i can remember , i've wanted to be a designer . that was even before i knew what either 'fashion' or 'designer' meant.. this was a desire that i have always always been aware of and it has always been an integral part of me , the part of me which has defined and distinguished me because i have yet to meet anybody who had such a defined dream at such a young age as me.
i remember drawing figures dressed in ( my idea of) the latest fashion and then asking my school pals to rate them .. it was a miny beauty contest. my mum has painstakingly collected the innumerable sketch pads filled with my aforementioned drawings , the earliest dating back to when i was eight years old. all this while the other eight year olds were laboriously drawing triangular mountains and a smiling sun.
so you see, this was a dream which i had been born with and instead of growing out of it , i grew into it . it was my not-so-secret passion coz anybody who knew me , knew my dream .
now if this was a fairy tale , i would also be blessed with amazing creative powers and blinding innovative vision and would win every design/arts prize from here to mexico. no such luck!

my dream remained just that - a dream. sure , i could draw and paint better than most..but when it came to competitions i was pathetically inadequate. i spent my days in anguish and envy - angry at myself for not winning and insanely jealous of those who did. as a result of which , i entered as few competitions as i could ( i couldn't stop altogether , the co-curricular activity section of my report card would be really empty considering i wasn't even remotely interested in sports!)
so it would seem i was given a dream without the requisite skills - so now i would be sensible and sane and get myself an achievable dream ? nope, no such luck again!
i was always a good student and of course , this led my poor parents into foolishly hoping i would do the noble thing and become a successful doctor or engineer. a belief , my entire family(choc-a-bloc with engineers and doctors) supported.
but i never gave it up..because you see, i was one of the few lucky ones who had a dream , a sense of things to comne.. and on no condition was i giving it up without a tussle.
i have seen my classmates struggling with career options- with no real sense of what they had to do- choosing a career on the basis of - " it sounds nice!" or "my dad wants me to do it." or "everybody in my family is a doctor" or " i bet the money is good" or simply because they didn't care eitherways.
so you see , i couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate that i had a purpose , that it had all been decided for me.

my last years in school were increasingly difficult . everybody around me was preparing for IIT or PMT , studying 25 hours a day and rushing around to coachings at 5 in the morning , while i refused to attend even a single one of these. when i think of that time, i really don't know how i survived the pressure ;london bridge would have cracked. needless to say , everybody was thoroughly disappointed in me and there were vague mutterings of - " she'll realise her mistake later when she doesn't get in anywhere and has no options left", "why does she want to ruin her life?"

most of my classmates sniggered when i decided to give the NIFT/NID exams and all my teachers took it upon themselves to make me see sense counsel me otherwise. it was a trying time. i don't know what made me go through with it all anyway. i was desperately insecure of my limited (read non-existent) creative skills and was scared silly of all the artsy types who came to give the exams dressed in appropriate artsy clothes. i was so sure i wouldn't get in that i almost didn't give the exams .. it was a weird time! many of the girls from the arts section in my school were also present . though they were sweet to me, i could sense their disdain.
exam over ..and i returned home a shattered mess, panic -stricken and decidedly pessimistic for my future.

and then i got in.. the only one from my school to qualify the first phase of both the NIFT/NID entrance exams .
suffice it to say , i was in a delirious haze of success . i'd never for one moment believed i could do it , but i did.
i have always hated (hated ! HATED!!) judgemental people, considering i have faced so many of them. people who judged me just because i was a science student , people who thought that possessing an imagination is a cardinal sin, people who believed that the creative fields are full of so-called failures - people who have failed elsewhere .
the day after the results, the arts teacher in my school was gushing over me , offering to give me private coaching for the situation tests. too bad i didn't have the time or energy to gloat since my board exams had just begun.
well , yet again i would like to say that i blazed my way through the situation tests and was accepted almost as soon as i finished my interviews. ha!fat chance!

i went through a great deal of more heartbreak, days of severe depression and extreme insecurity - my interviews went badly and i wasn't accepted into NID . i think that was the day when i scraped the bottom of the abyss. the day i lost all hope and gave it all up.what good were any dreams when all they did was reduce one to a worn out shell of a human being ?

I was eventually accepted in NIFT. it was a tough decision to make . i had lost hope in my abilty to ever realise my dream , i was against my instincts , i was too sore from my rejections. I had even half-heartedly started going to coachings for engineering . it was all a nightmare with me being thrown about from one extreme to another.

however( and i really don't know how) , i made a choice and i joined. it proved to be one of my best decisions ever.

again i would like to fade away with the image of me blazing my way through college and stunning people with my inspired creations..haha! !
i was not the smartest nor the most creative .. but the point is , i was there!
all those years of mooning over brochures and imagining myself designing and creating , all those silly competitons , all the failures , all the mockings , all the pain , all that despair and insecurity, it was all irrelevant..
what mattered was that i was a student of the best design college in India, doing what i wanted , learning new things , discovering passions i never knew existed and yes, it was all worth it!
i have never felt more alive , more confused , more frustrated , more scared , more pathetic and more inadequate. and yet i was fulfilled!
so you see, this is what college meant to me, it was the realization of a dream and the beginning of many more.

i don't know whats going to happen next - i don't know whether i will be successful or not ( most likely not !) coz i am not even the most creative or the most hard-working or the best !! i don't have it in me to be ruthless and aggressive and fight my way to the top. i'm the person least likely to be noticed ever!
so my college hasn't guaranteed me a perfect future.
but you see, it has made me realize in the power of dreams.. and the power of faith.

I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream - I have a dream
I have a dream,
a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream -
I have a dream
I’ll cross the stream -I have a dream
I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream -
I have a dream
I’ll cross the stream - I have a dream.

happy days

"those were the days my friend

we thought they'd never end,

we'd sing and dance

forever and a day,

we'd live the life we choose

we'd fight and never lose

those were the days

oh ,those were the days "

previous post has made me all sniffly and nostalgic for my school days..
oh those days.. they're all bathed in a rosy pink glow , when all was fine and the world was great. that's the thing with memories ,all the negative stuff is eroded away, leaving the soft cushiony bed of good times and great fun.

i remember being woken up at 6 in the morning but refusing to leave the bed till 6:17 . early morning baths were mostly conducted in a zombie like state .
i remember last minute cramming , with everybody walking around the school campus with their fingers stuck in their ears and reciting formulae . i wonder if i anyone ever benefited from it?
i remember my panic attacks during exams . i was always quite sure i would fail maths coz i just never got it. and then chemistry came along and between both of them they just about managed to finish me off.
i remember the days when all that mattered was that i perform the best - life was an endless see-saw of marks . they were it .
i remember walking around the entire house reading shakespeare ( english- my fave subject ) and desperately calling up friends during frenzied attempts to solve physics sums.

and of course , the day when we woke up and looked around and discovered 'boys' - suddenly they were all around..how did we ever miss them?
i remember waiting for my friend's bro in front of his school ..this was undoubtedly the best time .. surreptitiously checking out cute guys and then later dissecting them ' i think he looked at me' , 'what do u think it means?' , 'does he like me?'.. ah.. crushes were the order of the day.
i remember being upset at never being allowed to go to the socials.. the day after would be spent in furtive gossip with loads of glance-sneaking at the girl who had danced with the cutest guy.apparently we were all convinced we were the stunningly attractive ones and many days were spent in visualising our dramatic makeovers.
i remember going to the city hub on saturday evenings , with absoloutly no intention of shopping and with all intentions of drooling over guys. i wonder whether it was just my hormones , but every guy i came across was devastatingly cute and definitly the one i had to spend my life with.

i remember the time when all that mattered was that i have enough time to go to my friend's place.
i remember the starlit evenings on her rooftop when we both felt we were poised on the brink of discovering our exciting lives .
i remember hazy afternoons spent spinning long yarns about our future romances and glittering careers and long vacations abroad.
i remember hating her and promising myself i would never ever ever talk to her - not even if she begged me to.
i remember spending an hour after school just walking around the school campus talking and talking and talking .. despite having spent the whole day glued together in class.
i remember calling her up the very same night with truckloads of information i just had to give her or the earth would self destruct.

i remember the last day of school before the summer vacations - the anticipation of loong lazy sunny days to come .
i remember the utter glee at unexpected holidays - even when all we could do was go home and study or watch tv.
i remember sundays , the only days when i was fully awake while taking a bath.
i remember being absolutly delighted whenever my mom bought me a tee - i thought i was the bee's knees.. and that everybody would be satisfyingly dazzled by my painfully hip self.
i remember drawing and painting and creative writing .
i remember S.U.P.W. and needlework and the last ditch attempts to complete it.
i remember the feeling privileged at being asked to deliver notes by teachers or alllowed to write on the blackboard.
i remember collecting report cards while full of gut wrenching dread - feeling low, low and lower when i compared my marks to others or feeling higher than ever when i topped.
i remmeber parents being proud and buying me a book as a treat. i remember the agonising and detailed decision making between two nancy drew's.
i remember the prize distribution days - feeling exuberant at being a part of the best in school.
i remember the solitude of the library - the ingenious rota system my friend and i came up with so that we could read two books a week.
i remmeber morning assemblies , the hymns the prayer ' our father in heaven ....'
i remember the christmas concerts - the plays, the songs , the choir , the story of jesus and the feeling of contenetment .
i remember the sports day- feeling self-conscious in shorts and blushing with embarassment when the boys arrived.

i remember hating the rival school girls and sniggering at their uniforms ( ours were definitly better and still are)
i remember the day i was made a prefect .
i remember staring in awe at my badge coz i had spent most of my years gazing respectfully and with wonder at the prefects - that hallowed instituition of the trusted ones.
i remember sobbing on my last day in school - 12 years of memeories - a lifetime in an instituition.

the land of make-believe

ha!
i am most excited..
ever since i have left college and come back to live with my parents - i have shamelessly regressed into childhood .. ( no..that is not why i am excited !)
why is it that as soon as we start (restart?) living with our parents , even the most self-sufficient , independent and cocky of us turn into sullen teenagers, yelling from our beds, complaining loudly if our favourite meal isn't on the table , expecting our washing and ironing to be ready and being plain rude to everybody in sight.
or maybe it's just me??
whatever ..
anyway , all that is besides the point , the point being that, for whatever reason, i have regressed into childhood.
i have rediscovered (actually i had never really undiscovered it ) my obsession for children's books ..

i am constantly pawing the ground looking around for enid blyton books.. which in itself is most surprising..this is britain right? enid blyton was british right ? get the connection ? britain ..british..?
enid blyton books should be popping out of bookstores , flinging themselves at me from the shelves and basically being very annoying by gaping at me from every book shelf ..
sadly and very weirdly , it is not so..
despite my deeply concentrated efforts at tracking down these books , uptil yesterday i still hadn't found even a single tattered page of the adventures of binkie and flip. it was all taking on the qulaity of a very bad dream . you know, i think im in britain but actually i am in slovakia or such-like .

however, yesterday to my utter delight and disbelief , i found them!! ha! ( yes, that is why i am excited)
at the barnardo's charity shop , in a bundle of second hand books stacked outside the store ...
i was almost walking past it when i the words ' faraway tree' leapt out at me and conked me on the head ..
what ? what?
and guess what , i found the entire faraway tree series of enid blyton books. . ha!
i could not believe it.. i was looking for any enid blyton books ... any at all.. and to find my all time favourite books.. the beginnings of my overactive imagination .. the foundation stones for my fantasy world ... it was like being reunited with a lost limb ..
i probably read these books when i was six or seven but the fantasy has stuck with me throughout .

' the enchanted wood' , 'the magic faraway tree ' , 'the folk of the faraway tree' - all my favourite words .. yay!!
so i bought the books - though i did have to wrestle with an idignant four year old- really!
and am spending my time happily wrapped up in the cocoon of my younger years ... i am right there with jo, bessie and fanny as they discover the magic that is all around us.

really , i must mention this , isn't the concept of a tree on top of which different lands arrive , just simply so fantastic!!
i am currently in the land of take-what-you-want .. really delightful..
though the roundabout land and the land of dame slap weren't all that fun.. .
am waiting for the land of do-as-you-please and the land of presents.. mmmm

while on the subject of fairies ..
there is this particular movie i wish to see called 'photographing fairies' .. its about two young edwardian girls who appear to see and play with fairies.. and they have the photographs to prove it.. a photographer investigates and finds some very fascinating conclusions.

apparently it is loosely based on a real incident..
which makes me wonder.. maybe if you really really belive in it.. the magical world might actually reveal itself to you ? isn't that what it's all about ? faith .. ?
i have always been deeply fascinated by this concept..
even though im all for fantasy and pixies and what not ..
yet i probably dont believe in them enough .. coz for me they are just that, fantasies..beautiful and untouchable..and not real.
yet there is hope..
maybe one day i will finally believe and that is the day i will see a few fairies flitting around in my garden..
i know they're there.. i just can't see them!

p.s.if anybody has seen 'photographing fairies' ..please do review it for me !

a charmed life

im a very romantic kind of a person..Imaginative but impractical..
i live in my fantasies and my imagination is my escape.
at an earlier age..i used to think that everybody was like me.. that everybody used to visualise pink flowers and a rosy future.. that everybody lives in their dreams and hopes
with age came wisdom and the disturbing knowledge that i might be one of a kind.. and the shocking realisation that having an imagination is not a desired quality. indeed it is considered as being too flighty or 'away with the fairies'.
i have agreed to disagree.

there is too much pain in this world.. more pain than there is joy.. and it shocks me at times..hits me with a deep force. .
i am surrounded by practical people.. people who live by the book.
and sometimes i have the urge to take them by the collar , give them a vigorous shake and tell them to let go..
it is not wrong to live in your fantasies ..in fact its downright fantastic.
most of the time we are obsessed by situations in our life which aren't quite right .. there is always something going wrong ..and we're all tied up in knots over it.
what i say is ..
why not try and be overwhelmed by the things that dont' go wrong in our lives.

one of the best methods of dealing with pain or rejection or hurt is escapism .
escape into your imagination - create your own parallel universe.
i do it all the time .. and frankly it keeps me sane ( or as close to it as possible anyway)

here are some of my all time favourite fantasies to my most persistent problems. if you are plagued by similar problems, do not hesitate to indulge in my fantasies.

unlucky in love? the only guys you seem to attract are the ones who look like frankenstein's-not-so-distant relatives? while the rest of the male population insists on referring to you as the sister they never had?
hmmm.. one day you will be sitting at a cafe sipping coffee when a cute guy suddenly spills his coffee all over you(excess of coffee?) . he's distraught. you're angry. he offers to pay . u refuse. he persists . u relent. u end up spending the whole day together and of course, fall in love! he proposes with a huge diamond ring and u live happily ever after.
for bigger perks, u can imagine that he is the next in throne to an obscure european kingdom and on the list of the 100 sexiest bachelors..ah..

sick of your frizzy absolutly unmanageable hair which insists on looking like a destroyed nest at the best of times? combs, conditioner,hair clips and even glue have no effect on it?
well, at least you have hair?? imagine having to wear wigs for the rest of your life? wigs which will have to be glued to your head and which cause red rashes to erupt all over your head. then you won't be able to wear your wig for another two weeks and will have to do your weekly shopping with a red head causing a five year old girl to start crying at the sight of you?

tired of the grass always being greener on the other side? pleased that you finally manged to buy 'that' top on sale and then you look around and notice that while you were focusing your energies on the top , the rest of the world had gone and bought themselves a coat to match? ?
you'll be walking along , shivering in your new top and no coat ensemble. a vogue photographer notices your daring ensemble , clicks a foto of your hypothermic self and plasters it on the front cover of vogue. suddenly you're famous , giving interviews right,left and centre on your bold new fashion sense and are offered your very own fashion label.

can never manage to buy all the items you desire? the world is full of expensive shops and all you can do about it is drool over the merchandise?
well at least you have a home and parents willing to feed you if not willing to indulge your thrifty needs. imagine if you were homeless, had to live in a cardboard box (with holes) on the side walk , eat banana peels and apple cores.
fashion was wearing a top found in the dump whic had all the buttons . and the only way you could watch tv was to peep in through the neighboring windows.. whereupon the residents would spot you and you would spend your remaining life peeling potatoes in prison and being beaten up by the prisoners!
phew!

so you see, its easy to be thankful for the smallest things in life if you have an overactive imagination like mine. it is easy to escape unpleasant situations by imagining yourself in a better world.
my fantasies don't solve my problems nor do they make them go away.
what they do is give me perspective.. make me appreciate the richness of my existence ..
they also take me away to a better place , and when i come back , things don't seem half as bad..

i lead a charmed life.. do you?

a nameless fear

Prologue:
I have a phobia of buses ..I don't know why and I don't know how.. . coz no bus has ever done anything bad to me , but there it is
my nameless fear


In my first year of college , I had to stay at my friend's (aka Herself) place due to circumstances . this of course , was fun.. but there was a slight glitch .
You see , we had to travel by bus everyday so as to reach college. Fine.. I thought i am young , i am brave .. big deal! i can do it.. i bet it will be fun.haha
The next day saw me standing bravely (but bleary eyed) next to Herself , waiting for The bus. There were 10 million others waiting around and I wondered vaguely what bus they were going to catch . Turns out ,they were all catching the same bus. As the bus trundled into view , there was a mini stampede which left me sputtering in the dust as the very experienced Herself pulled me by the collar while simultaneously trying to board the bus along with the fifteen other gorillas ( ok..they were actually women . you cant blame me though)
Now that we're in the bus , it is a matter of preparing ourselves for the 45 minute journey . the bus probably had a seating capacity of 40..but there were a few extra people on board like ..say around a 100..
I was still slightly cross-eyed from being stampeded upon , but Herslf was in full fighting mode ..she shoved and pushed and somehow managed to find 4 square inches where we could stand. It seemed like a 3-bedroom apartment to me. There are no seats available ..why does that not surprise me?
The conductor then decided to collect the tickets . I put my hand where my bag was supposed to be but is not .. I look around horrified and spot the object in question ten feet away resting between the sweaty backs of two auntyjis ..oh dear..
Herself says not to worry , the bag will find its way back to me. While i ponder the improbability of this statement and nervously eyeing my bag , the bus stops and fifty more people get on while two get off. in the resulting ruckus , our 4 square inches are reduced to 2.4 square inches (a single bedroom apartment maybe?) and people shift and sort themselves out , my bag does indeed land 2 feet away from me compelling me to perform a complicated manoeuvre worthy of an Olympic acrobat to retrieve it. Ah! triumph at last. I turn and grin at Herself but instead find a lady ( i use the term in the loosest way possible ) looking at me as she would at the fungus on her toilet seat. I send a quick prayer up hoping that she is a vegetarian and is thus disinclined to eat me.
After which ,I go into a head turning frenzy trying to locate Herself . I find her waving at me reassuringly five feet away . I sigh and wait for her to find her way back to me. The bus stops at every stop and even otherwise, causing much shifting and shuffling while the bus magically expands and everybody finds a seat ..
What? ..oh..silly me..that was just my oxygen deprived brain playing cruel tricks on me!
I suddenly realise that my 2.4 inches of space has now been hijacked and I am left with my feet dangling 5 inches off the ground . Thankfully , Herself is back next to me and in a similar position. As the bus trundles along, I look around and wonder why I hated buses so much . This is positively delightful , hanging around (literally) , clutching my tee lest it gets torn off , receiving leering looks from the males species and jeering ones from the female species ( I can’t bring myself to call them humans) , and the icing right at the top of my fungus infested cake is inhaling the lovely odour floating around in a mild fog in the bus. Obviously these good people don’t believe in deodorants or toothbrushes but are instead really close to nature.
I would give anything to travel like this forever ..wouldn’t you?
The bus is slowing down and Herself is nudging me and muttering that our stop is next . What?? already ? I’m not ready to leave as yet.
Apparently, getting off the bus is another complicated procedure which Herself has spent the whole of last night devising . As she flaps about trying to explain it to me , I space out.
Herself looks concerned at my detached expression but then gets a steely glint in her eyes and grabs my hand and by some super-womanesque power manages to get us both to the door just as the bus stops . As we are getting off ,the rest of the world is getting on and as I get dragged along by the throng , Herself clings determinedly to my bag and pulls me off the bus.
We lie on the pavement , panting and wheezing and feeli ng as if we have just fought World War 3 all by ourselves. Herself gathers her wits and gets me a cup of tea to help me recuperate. While I slowly regain my senses , Herslf assesses our damages which include a rip in my jeans , a missing zip from her bag and of course , my temporary insanity.
Herself tells me from suffering from shock and am having an out-of-body experience.. What !? She must be kidding ..I just really like that bus .
We grin at each other and fall about giggling.

Epilogue:
I travelled by bus many more times aided by veterans like Herself . Soon ,however , I developed the nerves of steel and rhino hide required by frequent bus travellers. I am proud to say I no longer have out of body experiences while on a bus.
You must try it .Really , it’s the most comforting experience ever.

letting you know .

sometimes.. just sometimes ..
i don't feel like facing the world .
i don't feel like taking a bath .
i don't feel like eating healthy food .
i don't feel like opening my mouth when someone asks me a question .
i don't feel like being nice .

sometimes
i feel like watching tv the whole day and not bothering about anything .
i feel like walking .. walking and walking ...
i feel like cuddling a puppy and watching it roll around.
i feel like holding hands .
i feel like holding a tiny baby.
i feel like watching a movie and crying my heart out.
i feel like dancing with insane fervour on an empty road.

sometimes
i don't want anybody to tell me it will be all right .
i don't want anybody to give me advice .
i don't want anybody to be near me .
i don't want anybody to tell me that i have to face it all .
i don't want the next day to come .
i don't want to wash the dishes .

sometimes
i want someone to give me a hug without me asking for it .
i want to eat ten mars bars without feeling guilty .
i want to kick the people who have ever made me unhappy .
i want real life to have background music .
i want to be able to solve other's problems .
i want to lie on the road while its raining .
i want to whine and crib and complain all day long .

sometimes
i wish ' the faraway tree ' actually existed .
i wish that i knew whom to go to .
i wish that i had a dog .
i wish that men were not such pathetic idiots .
i wish i could go on a long drive without actually driving.
i wish people knew how much they hurt others.
i wish nobody had any expectations from me.
i wish that memories were in technicolor .

sometimes
i hope that i can be a good friend .
i hope that i know when to keep my mouth shut .
i hope that i can be an inspiration or a comfort to someone .
i hope that i don't hurt anybody ever again .
i hope i don't look fat .
i hope my dad wins the lottery .

i hope people will still like me after they read this.

finding happiness

right..
now this is an educational post.. . and my good deed for the day.

this is about an article i read - on happiness
no, it was not one of those silly articles titled "50 things which make you happy " and goes on to say that in order to achieve eternal happiness one should take a break and have a kit-kat..
nope
this was an article based on scientific studies and research conducted to find out what exactly it is that makes us happy.

so it starts of by stating that ' what you think you want makes you miserable '..
and there i was thinking that a few million quid would just about do it ..apparently not.. brilliant!
come to think of it..its true isn't it?
take a moment and think..what do you really want ?
thought about it..?
so do any of these things make you happy right now...
maybe not.. why?
because when you think about what you want , you actually negate what you have .
so you visualise a utopian world . . and you are constantly striving towards it. you are aiming for what you what.. but is the whole process of getting what you want making you any happier? it is probably only making you aware of what you don't have .
are any of you coming back at night and twirling on the bed singing ' don't worry , be happy ' ?? ( and in case you are .. i have a few psychiatrists numbers .. )

and guess what (again)
the article goes on to inform us of the following
our brain evolved during a time of ice , flood and famine ;with the result that we have a catastrophic brain.The way the brain works is looking for what's wrong. so basically negative thinking is ingrained in the human psyche.
and what more..
by a trick of nature , our brains are designed to crave but never really achieve lasting happiness..
apparently , pessimissm is natural..optimism is not
out of the six basic emotions - anger , fear , disgust , sadness , joy and neutral .. only one is positive..does that give you a hint to how our brain works ?

so there.. i have imparted wisdom..
now.. do not be depressed after reading this .. even though the article smugly informs us that we will never be happy .. it does not say that we can't be happy
we need to concentrate on the present and be happy now.. rather than wait for happiness to come to us

happiness is an emotion which has been subdued for centuries but it still exists right ?
and being happy is really good for your health .. .

so now
i want all of you to tell me of one thing ..in the present which always makes you happy..
it could be anything.. no matter how small .. but i'd like to know of it
it would make me happy :)

of fiction and fact

i have not blogged for a week.
why?
see..i do want to say one of the following

a. the secret service contacted me and wanted me to solve a cryptic code which they had been struggling with for months. they had heard of my genius capabilities and knew that i was the person for the job. i solved the code in a record 72 hours and was offered a permanent place as the head secret service code solver (something like that anyway ) and have only just got back.
b. one of the members of the jury for the booker prize stumbled across my blog and was completely captivated by my unique and fascinating style of writing. i was in france recieving my award and the million pound cash prize. jennifer aniston approached me to write her autobiography and i have only just got back.
c. i was walking along the road when steven spielberg came up to me and offered me the lead role in his next (hopefully) oscar winning movie. i was in l.a. signing the deal and met george clooney who took me on a trip to his malibu house and i have only just got back.

but..this being real life and me not being God and the real God having taken it upon himself to convert my life into his own personal comedy series..
the correct answer is (sadly)

d. none of the above

nope.. you see.. i was re-reading ' Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince '
ah ..i see it.. a few smirks.. surreptious glances and much nodding of heads ..
so yes.. i am a harry potter fan.. a huge one.. and the prouder for it..
suffice it to say..anybody who hasn't read this book is missing out on one of the most magical experiences of their lives.
so sue me (no please don't.. think of my future children ..)
anyway..
dumbledore dies.
it was expected ..yeah.. yeah..but still , nothing prepared me for the shock .
the first time i read the book..i sobbed as if my heart would break when dumbledore died..
(note to non-harry-potter-fans: please don't refer me to the nearest asylum , think of my future husband who won't be able to cook for himself and will have to survive on carrots and tomatoes)

when i re-read the book.. i thought i would be immune to the inevitable.. in fact re-reading the book was the equivalent of me patting myself on the back and saying 'get on with it you duff;'

but oh no....nothing doing.. i sobbed once again...
dumbledore is the embodiment of all that is pure and good and strong in this world..to see him so heartlessly crushed was more than i could bear..
i know he's a fictional character.. no more real than my secret admirer.
.. .. but no other character has ever felt more real to me
so this is my personal tribute to dumbledore..
he was my hero and will always remain my most loved charcater ever.
i pray and hope that somehow..in some way..dumbledore is magically revived in the last book.
a world of harry potter without dumbledore is just unimaginable..
__________________________________________________

on a lighter note:
i went for a small interview on friday.. just for a small part time job
i did NOT want to go.. even though i had applied (rather half-heartedly) for the job i really did not expect to get an interview call..
i was panicked and i was angry ..
plus it was raining and i was supposed to take the bus.. great!
i reached my destination nervous ,cold and wet but with a huge smile plastered to my face .
i was told the manager was supposed to interview me and i had a vivid vision of a fat ,bald guy with a walrus mustache , smoking cigars and telling me how pathetic i am .
dear lord.. get me out of here!

but surprise.. surprise.. the ' manager ' was a young guy with all the hair on his head intact and no hint of a cigar or a mustache..
he was sweet , he was really smart and he was CUTE!!
i was struck speechless at this unexpected fortune.. such things do not happen to me.. i repeat .. such things do not happen to me
you mean to say i would be spending 45 minutes alone in a small cabin talking to this guy.. oh my gawd!
i almost passed out with the adrenaline rush ..
anyway , the interview was great fun .. glenn ( that was his name ) was really easy to talk to and best of all , when he escorted me downstairs , we got stuck in the lift for a few minutes ..
could it get any better??

don't ask me if i got the job..coz frankly i don't care..
i'd rather give a few more interviews ..