Lol. Cats.

CAT. Because of CAT.
OMGSOCUTEOMNOMNOMNOM.

I'm not dead. Yet. Woops.

Watched Guzaarish today, and I am in awe of Sanjay Leela Bhansali. The man is a genius, and his mind intrigues me. The movie's soundtrack is haunting, melodic, and it also uses a very interesting version of Lux Aeterna. There is something very belief-suspending about the landscape, the use of colours and the simplicity of his characters. Which is not to say that the story or performances lack layering.
The plot is relatively simple, incorporating in itself, among other themes, the Indian judiciary's stance on euthanasia. The cast is wonderfully ensemble - Hrithik Roshan is stunning. The man is a Greek God. Maniacal laughter, and those EYES. The way he walks when he dances - he oozes confidence while being helpless, commands your utmost respect while being a vegetable of a man. And the guy who played Omar (Aditya Roy Kapur, Iloveyouuu) is both cute AND hot. I don't know how he did it but I want him, I just do.

Interestingly I've also been appointed Health Minister in my room, or so it seems, because I'm in charge of confiscating junk food from Bed-against-the-wall, and making Third-from-the-Top take a walk everyday and drag her away from her books and stuff. Our a/c has been spewing chunks of ice into the room at random intervals. While we're aware that this needs to be addressed, no one can do the heart-breaking job of asking for it to be fixed, I mean, it SNOWS in the room (okay sure, you might have your eye put out, but that's a small price to pay for a white Christmas.)

Had lunch at a rooftop restaurant today, overlooking misty hills and trees. It started raining midway through the meal and stopped and rained again. It would have been romantic, were we not surrounded by fat balding men eating egg biryani. That, and the fact that the four other people at the table were my roommates, the ex-roommate, and the girl from the second floor.

Braces have made me incapable of biting my nails. Third-from-the-top is delighted and paints them in different colours. It doesn't take much to make people happy sometimes.

Watched far too many movies this week. Social Network (awesomeness), Dabangg (a totally different kind of awesomeness), Easy A (more awesomeness), and very little of Kynodontas (I need to grow a pair and watch this till the end, but ohmygod, I can't, I really can't.) House Season 7, which is disappointing, must finish off Weeds tomorrow and finally get down to studying something.
On the bright side, I'm going to watch Break ke Baad with the Zionist tomorrow to lech at the leads. Happytimes.

I have been introspecting. And retrospecting. Things have been happening. My phone is pretty. My hair is too short. It rains, it rains and it pours.
Fuck this I'm going to bed.

Some were born to sing the blues.

For sometimes there are times when you have no more things to have your imagination run wild with. The trouble with having all your expectations met is that your creativity takes a back seat, and you forget what it’s like to really want something, to want something to a point where you confuse it with a need.

Most people appreciate reason. All questions have answers, but there are some questions that you haven’t figured out the answer to yet. Why I do what I do is something I’m in the process of discovering. Because reason is overrated, and if we knew why everything happened then we’d be left with no sense of wonder.

Sometimes I don’t know why I do the things I do.

And I am filled with wonder. Tomorrow will not explain to me my motives, but I don’t need any, not for now.


I was very drunk,I almost got abandoned on a street, I almost got arrested on the beach for indecent exposure. I ate too many potatoes and dessert, got in trouble with management, and I have too much gravel in my hair for anyone's good.

You are not Prince Charming, you stopped being him when I forgot to leave a shoe behind. But you'll do, despite the rats on the street, overpriced vehicular transport, and clothes you wear for three days, you'll do very nicely. :)

Just because it does not make sense does not mean it was not fun. Oh no.

Of all the things I want the most

I want a music player. And I want my voice back. Give me my voice back!

Cue laughtrack.

Somedays you're Serena vanderWoodsen, somedays you're Blair Waldorf, and on other days, you're just Little Jenny Humphrey.
Casting is confusing.

That Girl.

"Dude, don't be mean about her, she's got progeria okay? - Dhatt, she's just a petridish. Moving on."

"Kalmuhi. Karamjali. Kulakshini. RANNNNDDDIIIIIII. Whatte bad girl she is."

"They broke up? Awwwwww. - No they didn't. It's a plan to get friends. - Ugh, bitch. Fuckface. Asshole. I take my sympathy back."

"So you're FRIENDS with her now? Get out of my room."

"OHMYGOD WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ALREADY?"

Because it's been a week and I haven't posted.

1) Subjects that sound cool are not very. Cool that is.

2) Global warming can continue to happen if the weather here continues to stay nice and cloudy. Except the pansy drizzle. I can do without the drizzle. I want to wear white :(

3) If you put my room and C208 together, you will have a complete Veneta Cucine kitchen with lemon tea and scrambled eggs for breakfast, and white oats for the aged, toothless and diseased.

4) It is, in fact, totally okay if you don't log on to Facebook for a week. Although people might worry about whether you still exist. Aside from that.

5) Douglas Adams is a STUD who has made fortunes writing about hyperspace while embracing what can only be fantastical ADD.

6) I secretly want to punch a first year, just to see what it's like. But if we are prioritizing the first years, could I PLEASE at least see ONE hot one? Is it too much to ask?

7) They weren't lying when they said calculus is important. Ugh.

8) Zebra crossings are pointless. Apparently the new subway is where everyone is going to die due to splatterage by an autodriver who thinks he is Rajnikanth.

9) Anti-socials are frustrating. As are social butterflies. Being stuck in the middle of both these stereotypes is just plain painful.

10) I am a professhunal gambler. Except for the part where I bring in the money. We don't play with money, but I have a lot of pretend 120 rupee notes.

I finally love this town?

In Vellore. 
Back to too many people in one room at odd timings, food, and so much of it, people you know, people you DON'T know, people you wish knew you better, people you wish you didn't know at all, Bengali movies with chanachur, apparently there is a carrom board, to hastily written letters, and plans, ohsomany plans.

The post title is from a song by Tired Pony. 

Mikey, Mikey, dinosaur. :)

See, you would think Mayukh is, in general a complete idiot.
And he is.
But he used to have pretty hair, he makes you feel good about your height, he fixes your electronic gadgets, and says things like -

Mayukh - for all things cute in this world i want you two to meet and have crazy amimal sex for an entire weekend

And yet he will not give me money to fulfill his faith in the system. Asshole, I say. Chhi, Mikey.

We're in the command of cars we drive.

The title of this post comes from a B-side from the Snow Patrol discography, called In Command of Cars. It is little known, but it has wonderfully morbid lyrics - "If there is a god, someone wake him up and tell him to sort it now."
Suspiciously so, I haven't been feeling morbid in the last 24 hours, although part of that can be attributed to the fact that I slept for about 14 of those 24, and then cleaned the room and played a stunning computer business-simulation game on the room mate's laptop. Yes, cleaning relaxes me. Yes yes, I get it, OCD and housekeeper jokes all around, ha-ha. But seriously though. To see everything fit into wonderfully right angles, perfectly symmetrical stacks, books of uniform thickness, markers arranged in VIBGYOR and intermediary connected shades, ohmy. Ultimate pleasure. Completely organised and tagged music with album art arranged alphabetically according to artist, then album then song name alphabetically. That is my summer project. :) Aside from, of course, living it up in OC. (OC referring to Oh!Calcutta. Also called Cal. Do not confuse with Orange County, or California. Standard jokes abound at this point.)
Speaking of where, might I congratulate the American Boy for successfully configuring his life thus allowing me to call him Mushu for the rest of his life, also, congratulations, ex-Jailbait, you're in college now!
And now, here is a Mushu quote- "I'm, intimidating? Awe-inspiring? (Mulan: Tiny.) Of course! I'm travel-sized for your convenience. If I was my real size, your COW here (points to Mulan's sexy black horse, Khan)would die of fright."
So as I was saying, the awesome computer game. It's called, get this, "Chocolatier - Decadence by Design" and follows your travels in the quest of becoming the CEO of Baumeister chocolates. To achieve this, you travel all around the world buying raw materials and configuring factories, as well as selling and fulfilling orders for money. You're essentially completing the requirements set out by each Board Member - you have to appease them one by one, set up factories and market new ranges. I'm at level four of god-only-knows how many, and there's a chocolate factory in Zurich, a coffee company in Cape Town, production of infusions in Tokyo and (ohyes) truffles in San Francisco, and retail outlets in Kona, Hawaii and Tangiers. Chocolatier allows multi-tasking with stunning graphics and wonderfully detailed locations (each of the locations have their specific background music and each character from each area is perfectly dressed), and each location has about four sub-missions you complete for cash, which by the way you need desperately for production.
It's a amazing game that's kept me awake for two nights already, and since I have enough time until I begin stressing over BEEE, I think I'm going to go make 400 cases of truffles so I can buy the store in Havana.
I'm lame, I'm aware, but if you know anyplace you can get the game from, it's worth a try if you like strategy planning. If you're one of those meatheads into blasting people up on CS or whatever, then stay away like PoM, who told me it was gay and left it at that. :P
PS - If anyone can explain to me the following things - Stepper Motors and Brushless DC Motors, I'll be much obliged.

In which the author expresses concern for a friend.

If you HAD internets, you would see this get-well-soon message.
Get well soon, Famewhore. I'm running out of yellow jokes for you. :)

Chasing Cars and Chowringhee.

After a long while, I get to sit alone in my room because the room mates are at classes and I have half a load of labwork to finish, but I decided to make life a little better by playing some old Snow Patrol. I found an old backup data disc yesterday which had all my PDFs of Megan McCafferty, Sophie Kinsella and Meg Cabot, and I haven't been this distracted in a while, which is saying a lot these days. Undomesticated Goddess is one of the happiest books ever written, it makes me happy, but then it makes me sad to realise that to appreciate what Samantha did, I need to become a workaholic first, and I don't see that happening anytime in the near future.
My mum dropped by yesterday, it was the sweetest thing. She left behind sambar-rice and curd-rice, and a bottle of hot and sweet sauce, and I think I love her. :D
My backup disc also had a post that I'd written almost a year ago, in fact it's exactly a year since I wrote it, I think. In my opinion, it's the best thing I've ever written, but I will probably show it to no one because I'm afraid you'll think otherwise.
I miss being contemplative and quiet, the kid in the corner who used to blog a little too much. I miss writing for fun, and I would like to miss writing my lab journals because they are a waste of my time. I miss writing stories about wispy love and love gone sour. I miss writing about people with no names. I don't think I'll ever be capable of writing something oddly romantic again because I'm afraid of setting standards for myself. And I'm afraid of writing morbid things because I don't want them to come true. Although status quo isn't much to write home about either. So much for emotions setting you free and all that jazz.
I like angsty Snow Patrol better than cutesy Snow Patrol, or maybe it's just the mood I'm in. I miss my iPod. I miss Calcutta. It's one of those days again when I miss Calcutta. I know I'm going back but I'm never going back to what I left behind. All I will be returning to are empty cupboards and cobwebs. Part of me wants to go back, but if I go back, it will only serve to cement the fact that Calcutta is a phase that is most definitely over. School is over. Classes are over. The little store outside school where we ate like crazy are over. We know other people we're involved in other lives now. It will take me more than a year to deal with this. I want to go back I don't want to go back. Because people will have changed. Our lives have changed. In the long run it is for the best but it makes withdrawal symptoms harder.
I live in Chennai now. To say that sentence with conviction will take me a lifetime. I will live in any other city with more willingness than Chennai. It's not Chennai's fault, but I'm too egotistical to admit otherwise. No song reminds me of Chennai. No song will remind me of the streets I used to walk in the evenings and watch people play football. No clue to the way I could walk up to Sreeja and Harshita's houses. I can't do that anymore. We'll never be in the first row of school again. We'll never stare at balloons named Jeff Buckley II instead of listening to Chemistry.
Never say Never is a STUPID saying.
Never happens always. To deal with it is the hardest thing you'll put yourself through. I never understood cold turkey quitting in Shantaram, but I get it now. I used to be addicted to Calcutta I guess. I will probably not be able to define exactly why. Just the way I can never define why I love Snow Patrol so much.
But probably Lightbody and Landsdowne are more connected than you think.

Funtimes. :D

Awake at 4.
Get everyone out.
Out out out gate number two.
The bus is called Octopus.
Hello Sahana.
It's an Octobus.
Octopii stickers on the ceiling.
Window seat :). No window seat :(
Kandaswami.
The movie with the Cock Man.
Ghee Roast Masala Dosa Sambar Vada Pilter Kaapi breakfast.
Back on the Road.
Excuse me Mister Kandaswami oru coffee kudika pohalaame, hot-a cold-a neeye tottu paaru.
Velacheri.
Linear accelerator resonance accelerator teletherapy brachytherapy boom goes the cancer.
Aquaplast helmets and vacuum immobilisation it is scary.
Imaging techniques. And we are done.
Lunch at three at Citi Centre OHMYGOD SUBWAY-PIZZAHUT-BARISTA-GELATO ohyay.
Santhome Beach.
Running through sprinklers and not getting arrested because the guards were laughing too hard.
Wooden boat and a boy morose.
Three in the sea squealing.
The other one does a shirtless run.
No one wanted to see that.
Sand in my shoes sand in my shoes sand in my shoes.
Makeup in the mall bathroom and the attendants are confused.
SO confused.
Back on the OCTOBUS!
Disco lights. Gladiator.
Sticking head out of window.
Being high on life and making calls to drunk friends mix well.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHH my head is out of the window oh it feels so good.
Aww those two they look so cute together.
And then we fell asleep. Woke up. Fell asleep. Woke up.
Dinner. Horrible nimbu paani horrible horrible go die Minute Maid.
Hey let's kick the ceiling of the bus.
Whee whee whee whee whee whee oh crap the driver saw us dude you are so fucked.
Back on the damn road.
Are we there yet?
Oh wait yeah we are.
Goodbye.
And goodnight.
Bedtime.
I love you guys. :)

Good hair days are not necessary but a very nice ingredient that makes an overall Good day. :)

Four new HIMYM episodes, good food in my happy tummy, and the lack of lack of sleep.  I'm so happy there should be reggae songs about this. A nice little lilty beat and a "oh-no-no-nooooo". A little trippy and a little skippy. 

I guess I should cancel out the lack of lack of sleep bit, eh?

And for the record, I'm going to be just FINE as a parent. There's a new theory that was formulated over lunch-dinner today that I'm going to suck at parenting. Meet me in ten years, I'll be the narrator, you can be on the couch, we'll have a special called "How I'm BETTER than you. At EVERYTHING." 

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? YOU'RE A MEAN GIRL! YOU'RE A BITCH!"

Life is my Regina George and I am Cady Malloy.

One more day.

I can DO this.

ONE.

MORE.

DAY.

And I can go back to regular classes.

"I just want you to know who I am."

Riviera extended weekend.

I keep meaning to put up pictures and anecdotes and stuff and then I forget. 

Is this what it's like to have a life outside the Internet?

"My position is frantic, Sail across the Atlantic, to be where you belong."

Beatles' song stuck in my head. I'm always amazed at how they can make the song called Honeypie NOT corny but just inordinately cute. Is it because they're from the 60s, or because it's just me, and I'm immune to corny as a means of survival? Or because it's Paul McCartney, and he can do no wrong, except marry that Heather Mills, of course.
I also love Biochemistry. All you others can hate on me now but I think it's so cool that I can finally understand Chemistry in the context of Biology. Man, and my Lehninger is so pretty. It'll be my favourite huge-ass book till my post arrives.

Someday I will learn enough Biochemistry to know that love is just another chemical pathway. And that it's extraordinary and it's normal.

Literacy ijje fun.

the papers want to know whose shirt you wear

i'm floating in a most peculiar way.
you know the thing about time? einstein was like, spot on. it flies when you don't want it to. it is a bitch when you want it to just GO already. like basic electrical engineering class. that entire room is a viscous liquid like that thing in the lost symbol, in mal'akh's chamber. the place where you think you're dead but you're not. you're breathing but you're not. if my teacher wasn't pathetically adorable i wouldn't have anything to do.
we got a freak free-wifi connection in the room last night. time flew then. it was midnight and then suddenly me and senior didi were facebook messaging each other on the same laptop and it was 1.30 in the morning and i hadn't drawn the transducer i was meant to.
the killers are an awesome soundtrack for life. brandon flowers is delightfully off tune, and glamourous indie rock and roll is about the sexiest song in a while.
man i need lunch, but nick freaking stropko delights in depriving me of timely meals. one of these days i'm going to get diabetes because of spiking sugar levels and it will be his fault but it's okay. AISE SAB LIFE MEIN HOTA HAI!

We ain't nothing but mammals

Let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.

No more classes till next year, bitches!