Sunday, August 31, 2008

Agony Aunt's agony(ies)

I had written in an earlier post that I'll elaborate on my profession as an Agony Aunt.

Disclaimer:- It's all confidential shit, so I might just change a few things here and there, for my own safety. Even if I let out everything over here, my clients won't mind:- They'll still trust me and come to me for advice. Sigh. At least I know I have a back up career, when I go to Dharavi slums. I don't mean to insult them or something. They know I don't like it, anyways.

1) The usual boyfriend girlfriend spats. I start off by explaining that I shouldn't interfere. They cut me off by giving me injured looks. Errr...Ok, I try to repair the damage. I say, ok I'll give you some advice...but don't blame me if it doesn't work out. They nod wisely and sincerely. What happens the next day? An angry finger pointed accusingly at me (they don't dare point the middle one) and a frown on the face, a few 'you're so stupid.....a total idiot...' thrown at me. She's back to the depressing world where she can see only that pig's face everywhere. Duh. And she still continues to ask me for advice? I mean. Wow. I don't know whether I should be in awe of her or myself.

2) Homesick. And then sarcastic taunts about me being a localite. Hey dude. My homes are in Mumbai and Chennai. And I hardly get to go there because I'm chained to Gujju land. Duh...I don't tell my friends that I'm going home-to Ahmedabad- because they would feel bad and homesick. They just give a sarcastic laugh and say I'm doing nautanki. Duh, there are still some genuine, nice people in our college, man. Though, I doubt how long I will remain this way....

3) Marks. A got more marks, even though I studied more than A. Why??????? I did study, I know I did. Still I got so less. Dude, I'm no topper myself. But cribbing won't help, right? I sit down and encourage them to conquer the world in the next exam. I wish I could practice what I preach, hmm.

4) I don't have many guys as my clients, because:-
i) I'm a tomboy.
ii) I'm not a girl.
ii) I'm more bold than most of the guys in my college (Hahahaha)
iv) But I still don't understand why they aren't my clients.

5) I'm not allowed to be depressed. My worries are supposedly minimal compared to their agonies. India lost a match? They are 1 down in the series? They flash a completely indifferent look at me. Their eyes bulge out when they realize their shoes don't go with their outfit. Naturally, yours truly has to convince them that it's perfectly fine and the guy will be busy looking at your sexy legs rather than noticing the shoes.

6) Why the fuck do they comment about cricket when they don't know a shit about it? They claim statistics don't matter, when I recite some statistics to them. Duh, get a life. I don't know about your make up shit, so I don't say a word about it. Go away.

Err. I just realized I can't continue the post. Better to be safe than sorry. I need friends to survive in this madhouse for the next 3 years (Groan, 3 more years?)....

Note:- I am NOT insulting anyone in my college. It's MY Agony, I'm talking about. It's not YOU I'm referring to. I'm referring to the MASSES. You CANNOT sue me for this.

My Updates

1) My hair cut was a hit in my college. Although some guys weren't happy because they prefer long hair. Like I cared what those pigs thought. Anyway, for the first time, my hair cut got rave reviews. Long live the lady who cut it.
2) My sis is doing well. Happy happy. Am sure she must have found some hot firanga in her class.
3) I have not still got my midsem results. Hence, I'm still alive and kicking.
4) I watched Rock on!! It's super awesome. Although, many pigs (yes, boys) did not like it. Apparently, it's a 'mix' of Dil Chahta Hai and Jhankaar Beats. My review:- Farhan Akhtar is the hottest thing walking on earth right now. He should be jailed for being so intoxicatingly seductive. Why why why? Why didn't I work as Bani in Kasam Se? I would have got a role opposite him in Rock on!!(I love those 2 exclamation marks!!) then. He would have given me that loving, checking out look. I wonder how many retakes must have been taken......I will refrain from elaborating since my mom reads my blog too. She's sick and tired of her son-in-law's position changing every now and then. I don't blame her. It's hard to keep track myself. Oh yes, Arjun Rampal's super cool too. So are Luke and Purab.
5) Ronaldo is staying back with Manchester United. But I'm not happy. I hate hypocrites.
6) I'm drinking 2 cups of coffee. Complexion seems decent.
7) I haven't lost any more weight after exams. Yay!!!
8) People of my college have started admitting they read my blog !! They claim it's really nice!! Yay!! Sweet of the pigs to compliment me even though I call them pigs..... For the first time, I've done something good for my college. See, there's more to me, even though I can't get a magical c.g.pa and I don't manage to answer in class (How does the faculty manage to ask me a question when I'm day dreaming? I mean, what timing....) and I suck at law.
9) Virat Kohli played well. Yay!! He's so cute. And India won the series (finally). Jai Dhoni...

That's it for now.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Aftermath of a hair cut

I always have been in a habit of experimenting with my hair. So, I continued the trend when I came to GNLU too. I discovered GNLUites, thought they have already become lawyers; hence they started exercising their freedom of speech and expression more than they actually should. Every semester, GNLUites are on a lookout. What hair cut was Madhuri going to do this time? They refer their notes on 101 dirty, sarcastic comments to make on Madhuri's hair cut.

First question. Did you cut your hair?
10 quick abuses under 4 seconds ranted on quickly in my mind, I raise my eyebrow in my usual know-it-all manner. No man, I had a serious case of hair fall. To which, the questioner actually says "Hmmm" which invited 10 more abuses. To fall into your own sarcastic ditch is the worst thing can happen to any bitch (It rhymes, that's why I am referring to myself as a bitch)
I control my temper and say, "Yup"

Second question. Why did you cut your hair?
Errr. Even after so many years of having hair cuts, I have not thought of a sarcastic reply to that question. See, I grow my hair long, then I'm bored. So I cut it short. Then I'm bored with short, so I grow it long. It's not as if I've gone bald one fine day, right? And why are you worried? It's not as if my hair won't ever grow back.
My lame reply. A simple shrug and a smile.

Now the reaction(s).
1) A laugh. Followed by another laugh. Followed by another louder laugh. Followed by everyone staring and looking for the joker. Followed by everyone noticing the joker. Followed by the entire place howling madly with laughter. And then, there is no one who can stop me from abusing left, right, centre and walking off in a rage.

2) A fake smile and a "Hey, that looks great." And eyes which say, "I can't wait to tell XYZ about this disasterous hair cut."

3) The worst people who keep on and on about it. Why did you do it? You know you look like a psycho? You know you look like a witch? You know you look horrible?

And do you know I might just punch you in that place where it hurts the most if you continue talking like that? I so wish the Constitution of India barred Freedom of speech and expression as our Fundamental Right.

4) Everyone staring. Whispering among themselves. Staring more. And staring again. Noticing I'm staring back at them. But they don't stop. These are those people who don't have the guts (I could have used another word for that, but I sympathize with those people who don't have it...) to come up to me and give me their reviews on the hair cut. Better safe than sorry, the statutory warning that hangs above my head, specially when I'm angry.

5) First all the dirty comments on my hair cut. I answer back with a Thank you since I'm taught to be good to bad people even. With widened eyes, they reply, in a louder tone.
"Hey, that was not a compliment, I mean whatever I said, it looks horrible"
Fuck you, man.

6) It looks nice.
Hey, that sounds genuine !!!!!!

Monday, August 18, 2008

7 Reasons why my life is a mess now.

(I'm not usually a cribbing kind of person. But I need to vent out my anger and irritation somewhere. Why not my blog? Anyway, even if I complain about the particular people, and they read and understand it's about themselves in my blog, they can't say anything. Because that's proof that they read my blog. Hah. I know my logical reasoning, I can become a top notch lawyer now, yay!!!!

Am I boring you with my constant cribbing and complaining that I don't fit into my jeans? Or that I want Ranbir Kapoor right here right now? Or that the boys in my college are the most irritating, chauvinstic, pigs roaming around? Or that stopping myself from abusing every minute is killing me day and night ? Or that everyone around me irritates me by stabbing the tomboy in me ? Or that the so called nice, sweet, dainty girls in college who walk so slowly and have a stupid smile 24*7 on their faces while they take their food slowly in the queue? And not to forget the stupid, foolish, idiot guys who follow them like dogs on a leash, and walk equally slowly. Behind the girl, of course. Aargh. Useless, irritating, foolish, dumb, idiots all around me.

Seven reasons why my life is a mess now.

1) My laptop is fucked up and it refuses to play Khuda Jaane from Bachna ae hasseno ko. I listen to that song for minimum 10 times a day, and now it stops playing out of the blue.

2) Both my exams sucked. First was Banking and Negotiable Instruments Act,1881 (You got lost reciting the name of the subject itself, didn't you? Think about my condition. Mugging the sections under the Act, actual concept of the Banker-Customer Relationship, mugging the case laws, no, no, you can't even dare to write Kumar v. State of West Bengal instead of Sukumar v. State.) I did study for Banking. I really did study. I didn't go online. I didn't watch Olympics on t.v. or news on the internet. I didn't even talk to my parents, man. Then why? Mom works in a bank. And her daughter ended up screwing Banking law paper. Don't be surprised if you see me shifting to Dharavi Slums in Mumbai after this semester ends. Wonder if they'll have internet connection in Dharavi Slums?
Second was Constitutional Law-3. I did study. I only went online for 15 mins in which I Gtalked with a friend, checked orkut, checked facebook, read Olympics news, checked hotmail,(My sister's mail has come finally, and guess what? It refused to open. Fuck http://www.hotmail.com/) All in 15 minutes. I even paid attention in class. (First bench, taking down notes, clinging on to every word what Sir says. Only once in a while messaging or talking to whoever's next to me. And no staring into space at all !!!!) And still the exam was just ok ok. That's it. My C.G.P.A had already gone to the dogs. Now even the dogs wouldn't want it.

3) I have like, 4 coffees a day. (and night, considering it's exam time) My complexion which had become a little decent is back to square one now. I've lost all hope of getting Ranbir Kapoor now.

4) I'm the Official Agony Aunt in my college. Will write in details in my next post (without taking my client's names, of course..)

5) People in my college accusingly ask me why I'm smiling after an exam. Yes, I have screwed up as badly as you guys, but I'm not the one who has a Ph.d. in cribbing. Duh !!!! Someone teach them to be see the silver lining in the dark cloud or whatever.....

6) My friend (a guy, if you must know) does not get tired of being sarcastic to my indecisiveness. What are you going to do with your life? The conversation begins with this question. The excessive smileys I ping to change the topic does not help. See, it's difficult being over ambitious and asking to choose one. It's like asking guys to choose between Angelina Jolie and Katrina Kaif. See the dilemna?

So, I get my B.A.L.L.B degree in 2011 (hopefully). The career options I have in mind are:-
a) Masters in Journalism. Chuck law forever, muhuhahaha. Then I'll get a job through placements. Maybe I'll get to interview Ranbir Kapoor and con him into getting married to me.
b) L.L.M in Sports Law (But I read the course curriculm in some firang university. It's all law. Shitty shitty shitty law. Where the heck is the sports in it? Ok, I'm over reacting, without knowing the actual crux of the matter. Anyhow, this option is almost out, though)
c)M.B.A (*blank* Ya, ya and then go into sports management. Howzzat?)
d) Stay in Dharavi Slums and stare into space.
e) Continue writing my blog and be the oldest woman ever to have a blog (There was a newspaper article on the oldest woman to have a blog. She died at some 100+) I'll at least be famous after I die then, hmmm. My grandchildren(i.e. if I get married) won't think I'm the laziest grandmother ever, then, Yay!!)

7) The main reason why my life is so shitty. I was supposed to sleep at 1 and get up at 3:30 and start studying for Evidence paper. And it's already 2 now. Yay!!

Even if you don't want to comment on my blog, the least you can do is to pray that I clear my exams.

Regards.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Why Ranbir Kapoor deserves me and not Deepika Padukone...

I fell in love with Ranbir Kapoor when I saw promos of Saawariya. I was dying to go for the movie even after hearing people died after seeing the movie. My 'family' and 'friends' pretended they didn't know me when I begged them to accompany me. Maybe I should have gone for the movie alone. I should learn not to rely on them for the next Ranbir Kapoor flick, Bachna ae hasseno ko, hmmm. I finally saw the movie with my sister on cable (we missed the starting part, aargh, I missed the Greek God's entry in the movie) We cried when it ended (YES, SHE ALSO CRIED ALONG WITH ME, I'M NOT THE ONLY SENTI ONE WHO SOBS IN EVERY MOVIE, HAH!!) Not because the movie was sad, mind well. It was a sad,romantic, lovely movie. Yeah, settings sucked big time, but hello, you have the Greek God's entire body to ogle at, and the girl Sonam Kapoor isn't bad at all to look at....Anyhow...

So, why does Ranbir Kapoor deserve me and not Deepika Padukone?

1) I'm one and a half inch shorter than her. I won't give Ranbir an inferiority complex of being only 6 feet tall

2) Deepika apparently mauled Ranbir in a badminton match.(I mug up every interview I read on the couple, so I'm a reliable source) I'm ready to lose against him (Though not badly, my sports fanatic pride will be at stake then) Anyway, I'll be busy staring at him to remember when to hit the cock (hah, I'm so good at cracking disgusting jokes)

3) That girl plays only badminton. I play everything. (Noo, don't think too much)

4) Ranbir said one thing he hates about Deepika is that she is an actress. Hah, time for me to step into her role...

5) In some year's time, I'm gonna be a lawyer (on paper) and I'm already a journalist (*blushing*). I can sue all the people in the world whom he wants to shoo. I can screw up other celebrities interviews when I'm a journalist (muhahahaha)

6) Deepika and Ranbir can't go for any cricket match together because the camera men will be showing a Dhoni-Deepika-Yuvi triangle all through out the match. What am I for? Promise, I won't run on to the field shouting Dravid or Dhoni or something....

Exams coming up, and I'm busy writing shit.
Happy Independance Day.
And I don't get to utilize my freedom away from home. I'm not going for Bachna ae hasseno ko first day first show because I'll be 'studying' for exams. But I shall see it. I shall. This, I promise my Saawariya....
h

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Why things don't look as they appear

Don't criticize me saying it's a weird title after you read my post. It suits its purpose, alright.
So there I was shopping with my mom and sis, before her trip to USA. Well, she was given to green signal to buy whatever she wanted, without looking at the price tag (but obviously, the poor girl had to look, sneakily) I was given the green light to buy whatever I wanted, by looking at the price tag. Oh well, I will have my moments some day.
I browsed around in the Pepe Showroom. I'm pretty quick at choosing my stuff, so I grabbed out a nice looking pair of jeans. The guy in charge smartly stared at my lower part of the body and asked me to get a 26 size jeans. I took out the 26 size and marched off to the trial room.

It didn't fit. It was too tight. Ok, I must be 28 size, I thought, as I came out of the trial room. The guy gave me a 28 size, along with a huge smirk, and I marched back to the trial room.

It didn't fit. It was too tight.
So what? I must be 30, I thought, trying to shake off my depression.
The guy changed his smirk into a serious frown as he sneakily checked me out again.
Naah, I can't be that fat. 30 would fit me, I thought optimistically.....

Nope. 30 was too tight.
I nearly burst into tears in the trial room.
I questioned God:-
1)Will 32 size fit me?
2)How could I ask for size 34?
3)Was I fat?
4)Will someone marry me?
5)Why did I look slim and trim when I am actually not ?
6)Again, will size 32 fit me?
7)If not, then will size 34 fit me?
8)Was there any size above 34?
9)What was that guy thinking about me?
10)Was he telling the rest of the guys that I was holding my breath in order to appear thin and I was actually fat?

My mom knocked impatiently on the door and broke my one sided conversation with God. I didn't meet her eyes or that guy's eyes as I muttered that it was too tight.
"Too Tight?" said the guy in charge as loudly as possible.
"Get one 32 size out, please" he shouted louder than before.
I silently thanked him for announcing to the whole world. Now, surely, no one will marry me.

I tried size 32 on. Hey. It was loose now.
YAY!!!
I came out and gave the jeans along with a superior smirk to the guy. "It's too loose for me. You need to alter it" I said in a pompous manner.

Moral of the story:- Never, ever say I'm anorexic or I look anorexic again. Never, ever say I'm size zero again.
And I will get married. Hopefully I'll fit into size 28 at least by then.....

Sunday, August 3, 2008

My poem on Child Abuse

My entry for the poetry contest conducted by Elan.
I think I won't win it, so might as well show it off over here....
It's not one of my best efforts. I don't usually write poems on such serious topics....
Ahem...


I entered the gate,
On time for my interview,
With Mr. Kumar, the renowned politician,
I rang the doorbell,
Nervous about my first journalism assignment,
A small boy all of 10 years opened the door, smiling,
I smiled back, asked him where's his dad,
His smile disappeared; ignoring my question,
Showed me into the living room,
I sat down, within seconds,
Came another boy, smaller than the previous one,
Offered my a glass of water,
I took it, confused, seeing the boys in tattered clothes,
The boy had bruises on his face, his teeth looked bashed up badly,
As I drank the water, my eyes spotted blood clots on the boy's face,
I pointed it out to him, and he shrank away,
I looked up and saw a tiny boy running up,
As fast as his tiny legs could carry him.
After some minutes, the kid came down hurriedly,
"Sir is coming soon" he said nervously and shot off.
There was blood on his pants.
I was paralyzed with shock,
Mr. Kumar came, with a pleasant smile,
He motioned to one of the boys to get snacks,
He started speaking on the topic of the interview,
Which was Prevention of Child Abuse in Maharashtra.
I stood up, shaking with fury,
As far as I was concerned,
The interview was already over.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Happy Friendship Day

This post is going to be a senti one, so all those who are uninterested (specially guys, since they are usually always so dammed emotionless and indifferent) may please exit. And all those who are uninterested but still will read it and abuse it, kindly get lost (I shall refrain from using the f word) And all those who are interested and will read it, you rock ....

Rewind to school....
Started in school where everyone tied friendship bands to everyone. Me and my best friend never tied one to each other since we thought it's a waste of money. We formally wished each other with a strong hand shake-as if we are finalizing a contract or something- and left it at that. Other girls used to tie us a friendship band. Me and my best friend used to exchange - Errr, you mean we are friends?- looks. It was as simple as that. Everyone tied bands to anyone. Both of us thought it was idiotic.

High school...

Used to have only that single best friend in my friend list. In high school managed to get some sensible girls (I regret thinking they were sensible, lol) out of the whole lot as my friends, and my friends list finally grew longer. Yay! Now I could tie those cute frilly pinkie flowery heart shaped friendship bands.....Which I did to my entire gang of friends....And tied to people I regretted tying to also (and I'm sure even they regret...) So, the everyone ties to everyone policy still was on...

College....

In my First year, I realized no one cared any longer about Friendship Day. Ok, fine I thought. Second year, I realized I no longer cared about Friendship Day. Heartless me, I know. But this year, I tied to people who matter to me.And of course, the sms to my school friends and a mail to one who is abroad. And of course, undoubtedly a mail to my bestest friend, my sister.

Cutting all the crap written above, the first Sunday of August is such a glorious day. It's Friendship Day. My favourite word from 'F' (Hah, and you thought my favourite word was fuck?!! Hahaha.)Friends. Ok, maybe Friend. I dunno...Anyway, Friendship Day is actually just another day...Because everyday, you hang around with your friends. Every other day, you express your love and affection for them. What's so special about this day? I dunno, and I don't wish to know..Because all that matters is that these are the people I was destined to meet...These are the people I simply can't live without now... Of course, family rocks too. But family's different.

1) You can fight with your friends and run away. You can't run away from your home, since you have nowhere to go.

2) You can fight with your friends and make them apologize to you even if it's not their fault. You can fight with your parents but you'll have to apologize even if it's not your fault.

3) You can talk about the censored stuff with your friends. Parents will gladly kick you on your ass if you ask them when they are free because you want to discuss porn.

4) Will parents teach you to flirt? Will your parents teach you to gossip? To bitch? To back bite? To abuse?

Aargh, this post is hopeless. I'll post it up anyways.