Label, Actually

NOTE: Sorry about the long break. I didn't expect it to last so long. I guess after a while laziness just sets in. Anyhoo, I'm back now. For good. Missed you guys :D

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I have a story to tell. It's not fiction, but its probably not as non-fiction-y as I'd like it to be. So I'm gonna call it an Exaggerated Non-Fiction Account of Things that Probably Happened This Way But I'm Not Sure 'Cos I Have Bad Long-Term (and Short Term) Memory.

Once upon a time there was a girl who didn't belong anywhere. She was too bengali to be odiya, too odiya to be bengali. She was too old to hang out with her peers and too young to play with kids older than her. She wasn't as  nerdy as nerds are expected to be and she wasn't a big enough slacker to be called one. She was neither girly nor tomboy-ish. She was smart, but not the smartest. She had talent, but there were people much better than her. So basically, no matter what the clique, she felt like an outsider, hoping to be a part of something. 

Then, one day, an epiphany slapped  her across her face like a large, cold, dead fish. She came to her senses. That's when she realized the following:

a. Cliques sucked.

b. It was perfectly fine to not belong to anything.

c. People in some cliques seemed like mindless painted zombies.

d. Not being in any group = no stereotyping.

e. Adorable misfits are always make the best characters.

Thus, a new She was born. One that didn't care about what other people thought of her.

Being different was easier than she'd thought it would be. Mainstream entertainment, particularly music had never really meant much to her. She had an old soul and loved songs and movies that belonged to the bygone eras. When she discovered internet forums, she met people from all over the world. Most of these awesome people were in their thirties or older. So when her friends started listening to linkin park and coldplay, she was humming tunes by the Everly brothers and the Carpenters. 

Somewhere during that time she discovered indie cinema. Then she found Wes Anderson. She was in love. Wes introduced her to Nick Drake. More love.

And so it went on till October 2011.

What happened in October?

Well I (I'm bored of the narrative style) realized that the "hipsters" online articles kept referring to were more than just neo-hippes. 

I think I might be one.

Awh-My-Gahd.

My google image search gave me this:

SAAAVE ME BEFORE I TURN INTO ONE OF THEM

(BTW, Is that guy holding a man-purse?)

Not Chilling.

People irritate me. They get on my nerves. If I could, I would live an isolated life.

But then you already knew that.

Why am I telling you all this? Because my hatred for humanity has resurfaced. Not that I was ever (even close to) a convivialist. Still. I tried to downplay my misanthropy for the sake of my sanity. I thought that if I learnt to be more accepting maybe, just maybe, I would find mankind less irritating.

I don't think I've ever been this wrong. Humanity I just don't understand. The desperation to be happy, the obvious absence of any altruistic tendencies. The obvious presence of schadenfreude in every human heart (mine included, of course). And more than anything, the blatant hypocrisy we all indulge in. What's so great about us. About our existence? About life?

No, don't give that pitiful look. And don't ask me to chill. Oh for the love of all that is green and blue, do NOT say anything close to "Chill". I hate that word. I hate the way people use it. It is one of the thousand odd things human beans do that get on my nerves. The stupid condescending tone, the implication that the speaker is emotionally disturbed, the forced laidback-ness. I hate it! I freaking hate it!

Yes I'm passionate about things. About life. About making mine count. Forgive me if my rising voice and histrionic gestures are bothering you. I'm sorry, I can't cool down. I like talking eloquently, emotionally, from my heart and soul. It makes me feel alive. I can't do the whole cool dyood thing you seem to have mastered. I like feeling my blood rush through my veins as I scream, shout, argue and lecture. I like throwing my hands up in the air, feeling my voice tremble, my mouth go dry.

But why am I explaining all this to you? You equate passionate people with emotionally unstable ones. You, my friend, are an idiot. You talk about life being precious -  What the hell is so freaking precious about something that six billion creatures of the same species have? You know what is precious though? A life that is different, unique, interesting. But you won't get it. You're hell bent on following the same formula that your mom, dad, grandparents, great-grandparents did. You have it all figured out. So now you can chill.

Well, I can't. My parents broke the mold. They did things they weren't expected to do. And guess what - they made their lives interesting. The same blood flows in my body. And I need to respect it, give it the pride it deserves to gush with. I need to be myself, be passionate as I can be. Feel the world. Feel my life. Feel every second pass. Feel the colours, emotions, ideas, thoughts, drama, music, flavours, cultures - so many things to experience...

...so NO, I won't chill. I won't cool it, and I definitely won't calm down. For heaven's sake,  please stop asking me to. 

MY BIRTHDAY

33 minutes left for my birthday to end! I finally turned 20! Amazing day...alll thanks to the BEST friends anyone could ever hope of having! Girls: If you're reading this, just know that you guys mean a lot to me. I love you guys! I'm so lucky to have friends like you.

Great friends, amazing and inspiring parents, wonderful cousins, some great teachers, awesome seniors - boi, I do have it pretty good.

Here's to hoping that the coming year is just the same (if not better!)

50 Before 20: This time no procrastination!

I'm turning twenty in one month and a few hours. Needless to say, I am freaking out. I feel as though I have accomplished nothing in the past 20 years,. Like most people I have a few certificates and a decent cgpa - but that's not what I'm talking about. I feel like I have failed to develop/accomplish something as a person, as an individual, as me. And the last thing I want to do is grow up feeling like a failure.

This is why I made a list of things - 9 areas and 50 things. They are neither interesting nor difficult, they are simply things I want to do, just to prove to myself that I am not as horrible as I think I am. The list includes:

7 blog posts

10 doodles

1 short story

1 play

3 poems

15 thank-you notes

5 "good movies" (open for suggestions)

5 new dishes (ditto ) *pescetarian alert*

3 new friends

I know some of them sound really lame (like the last one), but I really do feel that accomplishing all of this will not only make me feel good, but also help me improve as a person (or, to be more specific, help me improve as ME).

I am so PROUD of us!

A friend of mine told me that when she thinks of the 26/11 Mumbai attacks, she mostly feels anger - first towards the terrorists and then towards the hotels that lacked proper security systems.

I told her that I feel proud. She said that its the last thing that she would feel on a day like today.

And I really don't get it.

"They" attacked two hotels - Oberoi-Trident and Taj, a hospital, a cafe, the Chabad house, a railway terminus, a college and a cinema hall. All on the same night.

Sure, one can complain about the hotel security, but what about a popular cafe, that for years has served the residents of our Glorious City. Did they see it coming? Its not most expensive cafe in the country. its not even the most expensive. I doubt they (the owners) had foreseen a future as grim as the one that greeted them  - I doubt anybody did. And the railway station?  This is India, we don't have state-of-the-art security arrangement in railway stations...they were just ordinary people going back home...hoping to retire early, maybe, watch some TV, enjoy the meal mom had prepaird - माँ के हाथ का खाना ... the cinema hall, the college, the hospital - so many innocent souls, the youth of the city - all targeted. And the Chabad house - the whole family was murdered - all except for little Moshe... Would you believe me if I told you that terrorists would one day destroy your whole family? The question of security hardly arises.


On this day, I refuse to get angry - why should I think of those who don't deserve to be remembered? Why should I talk about those who tried to destroy the city I love, the county that I call home, the people who are my "brothers and sisters"? I wont be angry. Because that will just take the focus away from the brave souls who refused to give up, those who fought till the end, those who are still fighting. I will grieve with the families who have lost; I will cry for those who have shed all the tears they had. I will remember the true heroes, for they are the ones we need to remember - and I will be proud, proud of the fact that despite our shortcomings, we put up a fight. We didn't sit quietly - for a change we did something! I am so proud, of being an Indian, being a Mumbaikar! On the anniversary of the worst day I have witnessed, I am going to stand up and feel proud.