tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37922653302429941552024-03-13T04:26:33.190-07:00Mads Mad Mess !!!!!!!!!!!!!!Arien. Tam-Bram who loves to eat chicken. Love P.G. Wodehouse. Love smileys \m/ Called immature by all. Ignore it in a mature fashion. Lust cricket. Detest hypocrites and fake people.
Mads Mad Mess was created to vent out to others about the adventures in my chaotic life. The purpose still remains the same. Welcome to my little mess!Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-53629383674004913292016-08-22T09:08:00.000-07:002016-08-22T09:08:18.408-07:00Rush Hour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" type="cite">
<div dir="ltr">
<div class="gmail_quote">
<div dir="ltr">
<div>
Was this a panic attack? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She googled for symptoms. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sweaty forehead: check</div>
<div>
Choking: check</div>
<div>
Feeling unreal or detached from surroundings: check</div>
<div>
Hyperventilaton: check</div>
<div>
Nausea: Not yet, but almost there</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The traffic wasn't helping her. She checked Google Maps which flashed 35 mins to reach home. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Licking her lips, she tried to distract herself. She opened her Instagram account and then appeared the Niagara Falls. Everything around her reminded her of the painful moment she was going through. She closed her eyes, and shifted in her seat. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Her mom offered her a water bottle. NO, a voice in her head screamed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You okay?" her mom asked. "You haven't said a word since we met"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not used to this"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Oh, yes the weather is a little humid, but you'll get used to it. So, tell me, how is your job going? Have you got a promotion yet?" her mom asked</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"More importantly, what did you eat at the airport?"her dad chipped in.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Please leave me alone. I'm in a spot of bother now" she mumbled.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Her mom turned around concerned. Her daughter lay sprawled in the backseat in a pained expression. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a familiar sight for her. This happened each time, she and her husband arrived at the airport to pick up their daughter. Her daughter was always paranoid about losing her luggage at the airport so she never let it out of her sight until she was home. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Should we stop for coconut water?" her dad asked. It was a family tradition that that they stopped following ever since their daughter moved out of the city. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Please don't stop, let's get her home''' muttered her mom.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally, they reached home. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It felt like a vacation of a lifetime. Dropping her backpack to the floor, she rushed to her room like a mad woman. She couldn't stop grinning.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There. She finally liked the picture of Niagara Falls on her Instagram feed, sitting on the toilet seat. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</blockquote>
</div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-77590354864634722582014-06-14T12:49:00.001-07:002014-06-14T12:49:08.638-07:00Vow to Wow when you finally say 'I DO' !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The whole world is getting married, while I'm left wondering what is a good title for this blog post. Some of the marriages that I attended in school, have already failed, while some of them are now being termed as a 'compromise'.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAGPAftbBqWYIkeCCJ1vAo1cexwY5IpShksgW6hGplRVocc-wgQQyyp3378Xn9e38yaoua_n2Lg0I8LqfWbAg_MKJqUp3Np4bOhkj14Wggdwq0KxGkBYmc8VY2SyL3JG0CO95sJ6IB_w/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFAGPAftbBqWYIkeCCJ1vAo1cexwY5IpShksgW6hGplRVocc-wgQQyyp3378Xn9e38yaoua_n2Lg0I8LqfWbAg_MKJqUp3Np4bOhkj14Wggdwq0KxGkBYmc8VY2SyL3JG0CO95sJ6IB_w/s1600/blog.jpg" height="320" width="167" /></a></div>
<br />
After seeing all these marriages fall apart, hearing my own heart break a several times, maybe it's too late, for most of us, to try to put our faith in love, once again. Marriages are no longer a choice- it's more of a routine, which happens in your 20's. I've had several mood swings regarding this topic, so leaving my personal opinion aside, I just wanted to share something I read recently.<br />
<br />
I am currently reading this book 'Eleven Minutes' by Paulo Coelho. There was this amazing passage where the girl talks about love. When you fall in love with a bird, you actually look at the freedom with which he spreads his wings, and travels the world. You wish he would take you with him, far, far away, into the open wide world. Because you fall in love with him, you want him to be, by your side all the time. So, you cage the pretty bird, and stare at it, all day long. But now, the bird loses his freedom, as well as the will to live. You fall out of love with him, because he doesn't express himself anymore.<br />
<br />
Sounds familiar? I'm no one to give anyone advice, nor am I anyone to take advice from anyone. All I am saying is, don't lose your flight. And don't be the one to cut someone's wings. </div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-7312842345066513122013-07-17T03:25:00.001-07:002013-07-17T03:25:25.413-07:00My encounter with a young couple<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The only time I get to spend with
other people is during my daily trips via shared autos. People watching, as you
all know is my favourite passtime. No, I wouldn’t mean to demean them by
calling it my passtime, actually. It is unfortunate that people nowadays forget
the hidden beauty of knowing others by simply observing their behaviour. These
shared auto encounters are the most painfully bumpy and slow rides yet the most
fun-filled moments of the whole day, for me. Frankly, I prefer this moment than
the moments when I meet my real friends during weekends. I love the uncertain
vibe that strangers carry with them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The other day I met this young
couple. They weren’t actually a couple, as I found out later on. It was the day
rains hit Gurgaon for the first time this season. Naturally, the girl had to
pinpoint the obvious a dozen times. The boy nodded on like an automated toy. It
seemed that the nod was a reflex action whenever the girl pointed out the
rains. The girl droned on about the beauty of rains. The romance in the air.
The chill breeze sweeping her hair on her face. Now, if in normal
circumstances, a girl threw pointed hints about rain and romance, any other boy
would have spoken about <i>bhutta</i>, long
drive, walk, or something!! It was all too easy for him. She was just a giggle
away from giving him his first rainy wet kiss. I was getting intrigued by the
boy’s silent battle. Surely, the guy wasn’t friend-zoning this lady! I noticed
she was getting restless too. She then directly suggested that they should go
for a long drive on his bike and then he should drop her home. He stared at her
for a few seconds. There were prominent suspicious frown lines on his forehead.
I was egging him on to refuse her but then came the nod. There was triumph in
the girl’s eyes whilst the spectacles perched on the guy’s nose hide his brief
emotions. Our eyes met as I got off at my stop and I was sure I saw distress in
those eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHN1sGnA2M2i64qrvvwHzTKNe_e49rXL3Nn0E9pk7RyhBmlg1_Buq5mFqw7Rg_WiOEslDmPygpth7R9nO2fxDxs7tsVZ2oqut9gFkPqHtsOlF0SH_JRcPGXwNIZcwpXSBkL6BbGXs5_vE/s1600/rain+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHN1sGnA2M2i64qrvvwHzTKNe_e49rXL3Nn0E9pk7RyhBmlg1_Buq5mFqw7Rg_WiOEslDmPygpth7R9nO2fxDxs7tsVZ2oqut9gFkPqHtsOlF0SH_JRcPGXwNIZcwpXSBkL6BbGXs5_vE/s320/rain+blog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I might be wrong about all this.
Maybe the guy got off too and told her simple and straight that he doesn’t want
the long drive, the walk and her. Maybe the girl felt he wasn’t good enough for
her and let him go. Maybe the rains planted seeds of new-found love between
them. Maybe the parental units intervened and made them part ways. It taught me the chick was a real marvel at
getting herself asked out. It made me feel the guy wasn’t ready to let her face
the truth. The girl wasn’t giving up. The guy might be in for a few more
troubled dates. A lot of maybes. You got your bus. Or a metro compartment. Or a
local train. Don’t switch off while you are travelling. Keep your mind ticking,
maybe you will end up finding out what you are missing out on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-77505605720862597312013-06-14T04:48:00.002-07:002013-06-14T04:48:14.071-07:00I can do anything for a job, Master!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This post might make me lose a lot of friends, but hey, if
you are my friend, you know I give a damn. Ever since I started working, during
my minimal contact with some chosen junior friends, I realize we don’t talk
about anything except internships, CGPA, exams, moots, publications in
journals, who is working in which firm, benefits of higher studies- AARGH, I
think I will break my damned keyboard any moment now in anger! The list is
endless. Why this CV obsession, I ask?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVsjZ0j6iYJI3YIXe7Erkua5x9uey7qh02UaY5dWm3z2l4lWH8vaSxBUo0_WE9ooYjti5T-MAfYLLbkeNfeifHjOgM6ty-89aSCGYG8kxginAAI4bqv1yYmBLQ4T99_gAGLkdrWMEw1Q/s1600/nerds.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVsjZ0j6iYJI3YIXe7Erkua5x9uey7qh02UaY5dWm3z2l4lWH8vaSxBUo0_WE9ooYjti5T-MAfYLLbkeNfeifHjOgM6ty-89aSCGYG8kxginAAI4bqv1yYmBLQ4T99_gAGLkdrWMEw1Q/s320/nerds.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
In college, I used to wonder and ask the same thing to my
batchmates and seniors. They only brushed me aside because I was not a good
student and I was accused of being casual in my career. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People kept asking me to switch to sports
journalism and said I don’t have the aptitude for law. Pray tell me, in which
career aptitude manual was it written again, that your job should be your
passion? So, umm, guys who like cricket should go play cricket for India,
right? Girls who like shopping should work for Westside, right? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course not, you say, with a sheepish smile.
Another world changing revelation which I was told was that if I don’t have
publications or a good CGPA or fabulous internships, I am going to be an
unemployed, sad, unmarried old maid (yes yes, the other analogy is good
grades=good success in your love life, yes I’m serious!) I know some people
with great grades and an orgasmic CV, who are struggling to do well in their
jobs. I also know some people who strived hard to make their CV run into pages,
who ended up getting jobs where they wanted, but hate the shit out of it. What
is the point of it all, I ask?! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The biggest nincompoops on the face of earth are those who
work with an NGO or volunteer for one, just to build their CV or to get an
entry in Harvard University or the like. It is like you cheat the children or
old people you are volunteering for. How fucking materialistic can you get?! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ranting won’t help,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>because I have tirelessly tried putting this point across, but in vain.
My solution is to answer their queries and kill these people in my head slowly
and steadily. Do you have a better solution? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whether you are from an Ivy League University, whether you
have a pay package of lakhs, whether you slept with someone just to get a
promotion, I sincerely, sincerely hope karma will come and strike you down.<br />
<br />
I am glad I enjoyed my college life to the hilt and didn't worry too much about my career. I went with the flow, woke up later after I graduated when the time was right and opted for what I love. I was fairly successful in whatever I did, and I am glad my efforts did not go in vain. And after I started working, I realized concepts and intellect matters, not mugging endless pages of words and numbers. A little part of me wants to go up to all my detractors and show them what I am but then I realize it's not worth it. People talk because they have to talk.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S.- I know some people would go, “Damn, this is one
jealous bitch.” You may keep your money and gold plated resume, and my middle
finger, while you are at it.<br />
P.P.S.- I promise this is my last serious post. The funny Mads is coming out of hibernation soon! :Dc</div>
</div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-33022510525258280092013-05-27T05:06:00.002-07:002013-06-14T04:36:03.786-07:00Value your life... just like I did ;)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The last time I scribbled out here was a formal post for the Yuvraj Singh meet (Cough cough) written by a zoned out Madhuri. I promised myself I will get back to blogging when I am myself and it shouldn't be a fake Me out here. So, here I am, and I did miss this little space where I barked whatever came to my mind and my blogger friends stood by loyally without making any judgements. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">blogg</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">er friends, I attended <a href="http://harshitawriteslikethis.blogspot.in/">Harshita's</a> wedding- my first blogger wedding. I met <a href="http://arpitrastogi.blogspot.in/">Arpit Rastogi</a> too there and needless to say, we three hit off awesomely well and I had a blast. Met <a href="http://www.abhinavbhatt.wordpress.com/">Abhinav</a> in Bangalore in December (again) and I must say he is becoming more handsome as he is ageing :D Currenly with my best friend turned blogger <a href="http://simbasprideland.blogspot.in/">Sreeja</a> in Delhi and she's the reason behind the glow on my face (And the pimples because of the sleepless nights we have due to our constant chatter!). After a chaotic 1.5 year after graduation, this is the happiest zone I have ever been in, touch Oliver Wood. There's a lot of changes in my life, mentally, emotionally, biologically (Still a virgin! I was talking about my weight loss, perverts!). </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where do I begin?</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't begin :P</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSXIYmfd-6QVe7WQyi7kc3QNhHMmOmoX7FjjYjMyeAwMs2mTf1lGdha-hdjaJI5f75vYIRsr9WgowAIZq0WVH1PE-FR4mP1b1PtxEMDBroghnR5aa41Cek7j-s4-dqGJpgvKuY9s3iWU/s1600/quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSXIYmfd-6QVe7WQyi7kc3QNhHMmOmoX7FjjYjMyeAwMs2mTf1lGdha-hdjaJI5f75vYIRsr9WgowAIZq0WVH1PE-FR4mP1b1PtxEMDBroghnR5aa41Cek7j-s4-dqGJpgvKuY9s3iWU/s320/quote.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's a little piece I wrote for a friend who was supposed to give it in Toastmasters and couldn't write a speech due to paucity of time. That friend didn't plagiarize this speech in the end, so here it is! I promise you, it is not preachy and it does have the Madhuri touch in it!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How often have you heard <span class="il">your</span> peers talk about regretting the time they missed out on spending with a person they recently lost? Or that popular, multi-talented jock who got stuck with a 9-9 job and was never again content or successful in his <span class="il">life</span>. Or surely you aren’t that insensitive to not have shed a tear or two at Rahul’s expression when Anjali boarded <i>that</i> train.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Let’s not forget the guitar class you never enrolled for. Or the ballet class you added at number one in </span><span class="il" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">your</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"> now-dusty to-do list. So, the morning jogs you keep postponing everyday, can be done with those crutches you will wake up to every morning, isn’t it? And you know you are going to be invited for the wedding of the girl you aren’t going to ask out, at least in this lifetime, right?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friends, before you hit me with brickbats… or rather actual bricks, today we are going to have a little introspection in our respective <span class="il">lives</span>. I want you all to close <span class="il">your</span> eyes... I’ll keep mine open to watch out for those bricks coming my way…. And think about at least 5 things you could be doing now if you weren’t at <span class="il">your</span> respective companies. *waits for some time* You could think of more than 5 things, am I, right?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: justify;">The words ‘shall’, ‘will’ and ‘must’ should be knocked out of the English dictionary. Such wistful promises are not going to do you or me, a favour. It is in our best interest that we do not depend on reincarnation to bring us back as the person we are in our next birth. Why not enjoy each minute of what you are doing? Wait, wait, wait, I know what </span><span class="il" style="text-align: justify;">your</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> first defense is going to be-</span><span style="text-align: justify;">Everyone is supposed to hate their jobs</span><span style="text-align: justify;">.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> It will end up badly. I’m safer here, in my cocoon.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> Maybe. Maybe, you will hate what you are going to take up next. Maybe, the chick or guy might turn you down. Maybe, those salsa classes might not help the ever clumsy you. Behind all these silly permutations and combinations, the risk might be worth it. Dodging obstacles was all we did our whole </span><span class="il" style="text-align: justify;">lives</span><span style="text-align: justify;">. When the 10</span><sup style="text-align: justify;">th</sup><span style="text-align: justify;"> and 12</span><sup style="text-align: justify;">th</sup><span style="text-align: justify;"> Boards didn’t gobble us up, aren’t we up for more?</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSXIYmfd-6QVe7WQyi7kc3QNhHMmOmoX7FjjYjMyeAwMs2mTf1lGdha-hdjaJI5f75vYIRsr9WgowAIZq0WVH1PE-FR4mP1b1PtxEMDBroghnR5aa41Cek7j-s4-dqGJpgvKuY9s3iWU/s1600/quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So go for it. Pick up the phone and talk to <span class="il">your</span> family, not <span class="il">your</span> boss. Order that extra costly pizza and see that movie you have been meaning to watch, with the friend you have been dying to meet. Because when you go to bed every night, you shouldn’t dread tomorrow’s dawn.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P.S.- What shit is blogpost upto? :O I can't format for nuts! And no, I won't shift to wordpress :|</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-88194295612976948202012-09-04T09:27:00.001-07:002012-09-04T09:29:09.998-07:00Yuvstrong and how!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
The
finals of Natwest Trophy 2001 launched a flamboyant, young left-hander from
India into the record books. The journey after that was as dramatic as it was
heart-warming. From a T20 World Cup winner to the ‘water boy’ of the team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From being almost out of the side for the
World Cup 2011, to being the Man of the Series and bringing the Cup home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Controversies haunted him throughout his
career. Yuvraj Singh has seen it all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Everyone
remembers the image of a sobbing Yuvi after the finals. Those tears returned to
many a cricket fan’s eyes when Yuvraj Singh was diagnosed with a rare germ cell
cancer between his lungs. An emotional cricketing world rallied behind him for
support. People prayed for him, sent their wishes on various social networking
sites. Someone known to uplift the spirits of the dressing room was now left on
his own to deal with a matter of life and death - literally. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62tNAITyrJXi9e-otkUClieqZ62jNZqCVKDQ-R_lhVCwsbJAN8Yy2E2mwZ1guUzfh0Tuowh1k6YAUXc6_QSwBDxbRwpNQpm_iOZEvClGrIWeYjiZjXE_ggUMWjoueHhEnq5kyGPxOE-U/s1600/Yuvi+wc+ahmedabad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62tNAITyrJXi9e-otkUClieqZ62jNZqCVKDQ-R_lhVCwsbJAN8Yy2E2mwZ1guUzfh0Tuowh1k6YAUXc6_QSwBDxbRwpNQpm_iOZEvClGrIWeYjiZjXE_ggUMWjoueHhEnq5kyGPxOE-U/s320/Yuvi+wc+ahmedabad.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Instead
of shunning himself in a corner, Yuvraj tweeted his progress regularly for his
fans and the rest of the cricketing world. It was as if he owed this much to
his people. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is ironic that it was only
during this phase that people could find out more about Yuvraj the person
Yuvraj, rather than the cricketer Yuvi. Many didn’t know that Yuvi had founded
an NGO – the Yuvraj Singh Foundation - way back in 2009. More than himself, it
seemed like he was assuring the nation that he would fight and end up on the
winning side. Through social networking sites, he regularly cheered for Team
India not only in cricket but also in other sports. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
The
man who had won India two World Cups had another battle to win, yet again
single-handedly. His efforts speak volumes of the mammoth will and
determination that he possesses - qualities which can win you half the battle. He
uploaded pictures of his bald self after his chemotherapy treatment, proving that
cancer was nothing to be ashamed about. Many cancer patients wrote to him
saying that he is an inspiration to them, to which he encouragingly responded
back. He thanked each and every one profusely who came to meet him or talked to
him, like Anil Kumble, or Sachin who had said he would matter when it would
matter the most, before the World Cup 2011, or Zaheer Khan who had said he
would be the man of the series of the World Cup. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
As
Yuvi had tweeted, ‘Comeback is not a challenge, it is a statement’. Welcome
back, Yuvi! Your story only proves - “Jab tak balla chalta hai, thaat hai!”</div>
<br /></div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-40722780150960264532012-06-09T06:06:00.001-07:002012-06-09T06:06:27.781-07:00Gone- II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I was sitting on my bed, reading ‘The Glass Palace’ by
Amitav Ghosh (It’s lovely, btw), when I suddenly wanted to call Mom. We usually
talk at 9, so I waited. I called up at sharp 9 and my call was on wait. It has
happened before, c’mon, my mom is a normal insaan, she gets calls all the time.
But my intuition said something was wrong, and I just knew what was wrong. She
called back after sometime and made small talk (which she sucks at). Before I
could poke her about what was wrong, she broke it to me. My grandmother (Patti)
had passed away. And the creepy part was
that I felt it, right from 8:30, which was kind of the time of her death.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t cry as much as I cried when my grandpa (Thatha)
passed away, because of the circumstances (I work, so I had to be professional
and all that, so I couldn’t go with red rimmed eyes and a headache the next
day) Yes, I wanted to go to Chennai but my parents told me not to come because
it’s not worth going all the way, just for a day, that too when she is no more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I dressed up without looking at the mirror the next day. I
couldn’t see the mirror because when I saw myself, I saw Patti. She was, of
course, definitely more good looking than me, but we resemble a lot. When I
tried to recall till what standard she studied, or some of her stories when she
was small, I realized with a jolt that I did not know anything about her
childhood. Her father was a Doctor, and she wanted to become a Doctor too, but
couldn’t, because she had to look after her brothers and sisters. It was always
Thatha who ran the show. He talked on and on about his life, while quiet Patti
cooked for us, washed and folded our clothes. She didn’t study that much, but I
clearly remember her grinning and tell us (me and my sis) about her grandfather
boasting that his grandkid reads English newspaper :D</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She used to be very inquisitive about everything. She poked
her nose in whatever textbooks my sister and I used to read. I used to wonder
why she read the heading of the textbooks or opened them to browse. I never
asked her. I should have. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She hated cricket and always supported the opposite team, be
it Australia or Pakistan. And whenever she told Pak or Aus would win, they
always won <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">K</span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember the Sharjah cup when Sachin went berserk, my
sister, Thatha, mom and I went berserk too. We didn’t let Patti sleep the whole
night by thoroughly discussing all the matches. We slept the next day till 10,
but sweet Patti, had a disturbed sleep all night, but she was still up by 4 to
cook for the house. And no complaints from her, just a scowl when we informed
her that India won :P</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish I had learnt to cook from her. I wish I hadn’t
snatched the remote from her to watch my random serials or cartoons, which made
her sleep early that day, out of lack of anything better to do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish I had forced her to tell more stories about her life.
She never spoke about how her father in law used to insult her in his letters
to my grandpa. She never spoke about how she felt when my grandpa came to see
her for marriage. But she always went inside another room when my grandpa spoke
about the first time he saw her. And a pink faced Patti would emerge from that
room after a while :P Once at an airport, one random lady had told my granny
that she is very beautiful. My grandmom blushed so hard when she told this to
us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP65mmmHVWYpE6BS427c_NYHk8ICiUrLo4d9iZaqXJCZZCsS11t2JKPOiCb2208JFDAjzy9BfdfQiz1RyAbrvDZtD2d1nyxSFIaWMmIkN_8NwQeq-XUgxTp8ZC_tusx4W4-wtB327Ze1c/s1600/Patti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP65mmmHVWYpE6BS427c_NYHk8ICiUrLo4d9iZaqXJCZZCsS11t2JKPOiCb2208JFDAjzy9BfdfQiz1RyAbrvDZtD2d1nyxSFIaWMmIkN_8NwQeq-XUgxTp8ZC_tusx4W4-wtB327Ze1c/s320/Patti.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She had weak bones, she fell down a lot of times, in a lot
of places. Once, she fell down while climbing an auto, and she was very quiet
when she was home. As usual, I asked her how she was feeling and there were no
injuries or anything, so I went back to Thatha or doing some other crap. My
sister used to sit down, more with Patti and talk to her, so my sis later told
me that Patti was upset because she felt embarrassed when people had to help
her when she fell down. She was always independent, so her last few years were
terrible. She had Alzheimer’s, almost, immediately after Thatha passed away,
for 3 years. Her last memory of me, was
that I was still in college. I could never give her a reason to finally be
proud of me, that I was working in a different city and living independently. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She used to always tell me and my sister that we look great.
Frankly, I started looking good only in college… How could she even think I
look good, forget great, when I was in school ?!?! I never asked her why she
lied to me on my face. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had called her during my college internship in Delhi. She
asked me if I had found any hot guys. She was this traditional, orthodox woman,
who would have really liked it if I married a Tamilian, same caste and all
that, but for some reason, she always asked me if I found any good looking boy.
I never asked her why she did that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My sister and I, at some point of time, decided to say ‘I
love you’ to my grandparents every time we talked. I think we read it in Cosmo
or Femina or somewhere that you should keep letting your grandparents know that
you love them :P The result was awesome, my grandpa used to gush and say, I
love you too or I miss you. And my granny? She said “Hmmm…okay.” I was aghast
when I heard that, and I wailed “You don’t love me!” And she dryly replied “Ok
ok I love you” I think my future boyfriend also wouldn’t create a racket like
this to profuse his love for me, man! I was adamant, and I went on, “How much
do you love me, Patti?” And she replied,
“BIG BIG BIG BIG!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never told her that, THAT was the cutest I love you, I
have ever, ever got, and I ever, ever will get.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was this one time, when my sister and I had called
them and my granny picked up. As usual, I demanded that she should give the
phone to my grandpa, because as I said, my grandpa was always in the limelight,
so I hardly talked a lot to my granny (Sorry Patti, I’ll not do that in our
next life together) And my granny tried unsuccessfully to put an accent, and
she went like “He has gone to the market. Who is calling?” I squealed with
excitement and shouted “PATTIIIIIIIIII” and she sniggered and told, “This is
his secretary speaking.” Not to be outdone, I asked her why he has gone to the
market, and she replied, “Gone to buy bhajji. Do you have any message?” (All
this in pure English, I swear)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never reminded her about this conversation and I never
told her how cool she was, and the accent she put on, was ACTUALLY good.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My grandparents used to travel by Navjivan Express every
summer to visit my family. My granny fell down in the bathroom many times. Plus
it was more than a 24 hours journey. I never asked her how she put up with all
that, just to come to a place which didn’t suit her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She stitched cushions and made a sofa out of thermocal for
my barbies. And even made tea for my tea set (which but obviously my dolls
never drank, and I ended up throwing their share) and gave me biscuits for my
kitchen set. And she put up with me, when I woke her from her nap, saying I was
hungry or the dolls were hungry or asking her if I should dress one Barbie up
in a mini skirt or in full pants. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She never asked me what I wanted to become, she never asked
me what my grades were like, she never criticized me for my bad temper, she
never advised me about anything. I never realized this either. My grandpa had
these questions for me, but my grandma never had. She was actually the only
person who never questioned my actions, but continued loving me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grandmothers are special and I lost my second and last
special person in my life. And I know I am not going to get unconditional love
from anyone, anywhere, ever again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S.- Grammar and Formatting Nazis can please try not to do a Madhuri and point out my mistakes here. My granny passed away on 5th June, 2012, in case anyone wants to know... </div>
</div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-48081410070774536122012-04-29T04:42:00.000-07:002012-04-29T04:42:22.049-07:00Noida! :D<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I shifted to Noida in the first week of April for professional reasons. It's nice...No, it's actually pretty. I know, people think of NCR as the National Capital of Rape instead of National Capital Region but trust me, there is a lot to this place than rape. It is true, everyday, TOI's headlines go on the lines of some woman's beheaded body found after she was raped, and it hits you really hard every morning. But, seriously, this place is PRETTY. We are having unseasonal rains for the last few weeks, so I'm making the most of it.<br />
<br />
Enough of the philosophy! Some fun stuff now ;)<br />
Overheard a group of girls talking amongst themselves during my first lunch in the place where I am putting up-<br />
One girl- Yaar, I got a dream y’day. Awesome it was.<br />
Other girls (And me inwardly)- What what what batao batao batao!<br />
Girl- I dreamt that we got good food in the mess.<br />
#Facepalm.<br />
<br />
The other day, there was a huge line for food in the hostel. The girls and me at the back of the line, salivated at the thought of custard or halwa or some awesome stuff to eat, by judging the length.<br />
We finally reached the mess counter, only to realize we were getting SALAD that day. That too, only cucumber slices. Hence, the line, apparently. #KillsSelf<br />
<br />
I go shopping for food stuff and other essentials on Sunday, because I don’t have time at all on the other days. Before I forget to mention, I always found UPites, Jaats, Punjabis, very charming. They needn’t look good to be attractive, they can charm their way through me, full on.<br />
<br />
So, this young shopkeeper caught me as his victim-<br />
<br />
1)He- “You really want grape juice? You will get loose motion if you drink it.”<br />
<br />
Me- “Errrrrr. (inwardly- Why would you say that and lose a customer?) Fine, give litchee.<br />
<br />
Banda smart nikla. Litchee was more expensive than grape.<br />
<br />
2)While I was handing him the money, he gawked at the new notes and went like, “Badiya madam, new notes, you stole it from somewhere, didn’t you?”<br />
<br />
Me- Oh yeah, how did you come to know? :O<br />
Later , I thought he might believe me actually (people around me do not getting my sarcasm nowadays, that’s why), and mom would kill me if the UP police was after me, in my first month at Noida itself. So, I told him that my mom works in a bank, hence the new notes.<br />
<br />
He- (flashing a charming smile) So when you getting the new notes ka bundle for me?<br />
<br />
Me- (inwardly, shut up Madhuri!) Pakka, soon!<br />
<br />
Moving on, I was very amused by the reactions my (???) loved ones showed when I informed them that I was shifting to Noida.<br />
Examples:<br />
1) "Noida?? For what?? Law?? Law firm?? They have law firms also there kya??"<br />
2) "Noida?? You mean Delhi naa? Noida is a part of Delhi naa?"<br />
(On being told, no, Noida is in Uttar Pradesh)
"U.P.???? YOU ARE GOING TO U.P. TO WORK? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"<br />
3) "Noida?? Yaar, you are this obsessed with drinking that you are shifting all the way to Noida?"<br />
<br />
I was naturally irritated by the dumb fucks who told me congratulations but inwardly, I am sure, thought I'm going to work in some brothel or something over here (Noida, famous for rape, remember?) And like seriously?<br />
People, kindly note- even if you drink, it is NOT a sin. And it is NOT necessary, that you have to drink whenever you have to party. My office was working on my birthday, so one of my friends asks me if I will get drunk after office. I told her no, because it will be too late, and no company, plus no mood. She went like, OMG but you people drink on every occasion right? I wish they manufactured maturity pills.<br />
<br />
But what the hell! I know what my job is all about, and I know why I have come here. I get my independence, so screw you! Score- Madhuri-1, losers-0!</div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-58737869404223561332012-03-13T07:35:00.012-07:002012-03-14T08:24:05.719-07:00My best Rahul ever.When I first read about Rahul Dravid's retirement, the first sentiment that went through my mind was- WOW.<br /><br />Wow? That's what you would least expect from the biggest Dravid fan ever, right? From someone who's email id is iloverahuldravid@gmail.com. From someone who easily calls Sachin a selfish chutiya if you dare to say that Dravid is a slow coach and a burden on the team (Note- I love Sachin, but I have to punish him for the abuses Dravid receives). From someone who has always defended Dravid in online and offline debates. People ridiculed me all this while. After the England tour, where Dravid scored 3 centuries, and you know who's bat was still silent, only then did people start respecting Dravid. Like, seriously? Do those schmucks even know cricket, that they started respecting an individual scoring centuries at the fag end of his career? <br /><br />I started watching cricket only during the famous Sharjah series where Sachin went ballistic. It's weird, because I fell in love with the game of cricket because of Sachin and I ended up liking Dravid the most. <br /><br />I can't pinpoint which shot of his, I liked the most. I think it has to be his straight drives. I find that shot very cheeky, when you hit it right back at the bowler, khekhekhe. I loved his sixes, since the people around me, used to love these apparently 'unexpected' shots. My favourite Dravid moment has to be after we won the Adelaide test, and he kissed his cap. I think that defined the man that he is. Another defining moment was when Michael Slater was sledging the shit outta my man, and Rahul just hung his head and went about his business. People get thrilled when Virat or Uthappa go about sledging or abusing back. Sorry, I don't. I think a sport should be played in a gentlemanly fashion. My When-Has-Dravid-Surprised-You moment was when he ran Inzaman fatty out and Rahul ran away with the ball and celebrated. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-dYjg1DTRtMdxzY_1CEwODGUEtP29GQ4RvYMQ9Rdl42jastYyxV2vHF9UvDZfYXuNOeKCwsezmyc1SuO5RXbcFBtlmmSssdbOIcAgEdzi7DITcalwVaTPU-i6mfT6noWxcP5EHfSq5c/s1600/rahul-chaple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-dYjg1DTRtMdxzY_1CEwODGUEtP29GQ4RvYMQ9Rdl42jastYyxV2vHF9UvDZfYXuNOeKCwsezmyc1SuO5RXbcFBtlmmSssdbOIcAgEdzi7DITcalwVaTPU-i6mfT6noWxcP5EHfSq5c/s320/rahul-chaple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719773440141306162" /></a><br /><br />I found his habit of putting one leg across the other, when he is on the non-striker end very stylish, somehow. I always used to wonder why he is putting so much weight on one knee. I always wanted to know what he and Dhoni used to talk in the slips. Him and Laxman, okay. Him and Sachin, alright. But what did he and Dhoni have in common? I wanted to know what he thinks about the youngsters. I wanted to know if Kohli and the other bitches were ever rude to him or have ever abused him. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIk0HQvbTFnWsm1m6vVcTn1lu31b2DwFm8apGuw-8zp8DocOV6aAIiBEV2__fqfLttdoev7IAPPjKFLVYf1PFhE25cybbICxPXlDT8umzx-y5xka7N1BWG_ZETuyKJ50OC3WXbVCRuatA/s1600/rdwd.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIk0HQvbTFnWsm1m6vVcTn1lu31b2DwFm8apGuw-8zp8DocOV6aAIiBEV2__fqfLttdoev7IAPPjKFLVYf1PFhE25cybbICxPXlDT8umzx-y5xka7N1BWG_ZETuyKJ50OC3WXbVCRuatA/s320/rdwd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719773266395884002" /></a><br /><br />I loved his smile that reaches his eyes. I was jealous of his patience, his gentlemanly behaviour, his way of knowing exactly when to shut up and what to say at the right time. I remember, I cried a lot when he got married. Duh, I was in school then. Gradually, from having a crush on him, it turned to admiration and respect. <br /><br />Now.. why was WOW my first reaction to reports of his retirement? Because I, his biggest fan, wanted him to quit. I knew he was still not finished. I was being selfish. I was more concerned about the future of the Indian test team. The sooner the seniors are kicked out, the sooner will the kids be able to move into their shoes. I was thinking about the World Test Championship. I was thinking about the No.1 test rank which was stolen from us. It was my obsession to see India do well, that I wanted my hero to quit. So..WOW. He quit for the future of Indian cricket. That dude made me fall in love with him, if possible, more.<br /><br /><br />As my status message on Facebook said- The only thing that Dravid has ever grabbed was the jam bottle in the Jammy ad. <br /><br />I will always miss you, Rahul Dravid. You will always be my best man, batsman and the manliest man, ever.Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-52555099682549033722012-02-17T21:36:00.001-08:002012-02-17T22:31:57.765-08:00When I was Devganized.Hai !<br /><br />Ok, so I'm procrastinating work, and I am TERRIBLY bored, so yes, I'm back to trying to scribble something out here. Colleges have started hence there are no cute interns at work too, dammit. Ok, before you people think I am a pedophile, I have a 'Look but don't touch' policy when it comes to interns, alright?!<br /><br />Oooooh! Did I tell you I got one of Virat Kohli's balls?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3Elnul_XXNuTfHymnogcrIJxpTaKcVxZZVsUTQ5naLpTtZ3oSeJVxnT7KispqLTuNOZF0QukVFUnrgj-Mn9_bNbRtBGEK9SOz3ReemY8mCrmT6aClZAD0wXoJYUbmPwA3TLGkZCHRzE/s1600/DSC00051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3Elnul_XXNuTfHymnogcrIJxpTaKcVxZZVsUTQ5naLpTtZ3oSeJVxnT7KispqLTuNOZF0QukVFUnrgj-Mn9_bNbRtBGEK9SOz3ReemY8mCrmT6aClZAD0wXoJYUbmPwA3TLGkZCHRzE/s320/DSC00051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710355570757530434" /></a><br /><br />Yessir! That too an autographed one ! Thanks to my cousin brother who shot an ad with him. Apparently, Virat's a grouch in real life and my cousin is bitterly disappointed in my taste, heh!<br /><br />Moving on, for those who know me personally, would know I am associated with an NGO in A'bad, and as I have blogged before, I am not going to mention much about it, since I do not want to publicize it, unless people ask me personally about it (Again, fyi, I <span style="font-weight:bold;">volunteer </span>at an NGO and I <span style="font-weight:bold;">work</span> in a law firm). I believe volunteering in an NGO is totally- voluntary, hence it should not be thrust upon people who think it's full of crap. Anyhow, right now I hardly have time to work for them, since my darling boss sometimes wants to see my face on Sundays also. And my body parts stop working on Saturday, so I usually doze off on Sundays. I know, I know, I feel guilty doing this, but oh, did I tell you, I'm trying to quit this job and get out of Gujarat? Ok, now you know, so move your ass and find any god damn law firm or big shot lawyer in Delhi or Mumbai for me. Of course, you will ask me to find myself, but hello, I'm the first lawyer in the family and you need hell lotta jugaad to get a really good job. So, yup, this is my lame ass attempt at jugaading!<br /><br />Coming back to the NGO, when I had relatively more time in my hands, I had to organise an event along with the rest of the team. It was a rock concert where the funds would go into buying books for slum kids. Needless to say, it was a roaring success. *lifts collar* Now, the band that was playing there is called <a href="https://www.facebook.com/OzyrisTheBand">Ozyris</a>. They are based in Delhi. <br /><br />Now, again coming back to those who know me in real life, I suck at liking people in real life. I have a zillion reel life crushes, from Rahul Dravid to Vidyut Jamwal (That Force guy!!), sometimes I actually pity my own taste. In my real life, I have just had 2 big time crushes. Now, crushes means liking the personality and liking the look of the guy. Usually I end up liking a personality of a guy, but his height sucks so I kick him out of my mind. OR, he has a cute face, bad personality. OR he has a cute face, good personality but he is shorter than me. (Again, for those who don't know me, I am 5'8.5 only.*smug smile*) <br /><br />So needless to say, having so many have's and have-not's in my list, I hardly liked anyone in my real life. My first big time crush was a guy I met in my German coaching classes, after my 10th standard. But again, after the classes ended, we stopped being in touch. Hell, when we were in the same class, also we hardly spoke. That is because- *drumroll* I CANNOT TALK TO GUYS I LIKE. I am a Raj from Big Bang Theory. And supposing the guy shows a little interest in me, I run away in the opposite direction. Commitment phobia, at your service.<br /><br />College started. I scanned the guys head to toe. Not a single one caught by interest. Except one senior, who was my height, but again, cute face, good personality, played all sports (That is a turn on, for me, again :P). Needless to say, somehow the word spread that I liked him a lot. He used to talk to me, but again, the *feeling* wasn't there. So he was out again.<br /><br />So basically, I just had 2 major crushes in 22 years. Coming back to my NGO, it was a normal Sunday when we had gathered at a team member's place to do some work, and I poked them to show me the band members' pics (I had to make do with the gate pass thingy, I was too lazy to facebook stalk them). I scanned all the pics, and screamed at the others, telling them why the hell did they bring such kids to play and that no one is remotely good looking. They sniggered and we continued on with our work.<br /><br />The band finally came. Bleh. I was least interested in the concert, I only cared about how much funds we would raise for the kids. So I was busy begging/seducing/bugging/threatening my friends and acquaintances to come for the concert. A very important point to mention here- The passes were only 50 bucks but still most of the gujjus refused to pay, because it wasn't worth it, it seems. This rapidly increased my hatred towards gujjus. #AllOffenceMeant. <br /><br />I was very very very tired on the day of the show, hell, we all were. For once, I did not even get dressed with josh, I did not wear accessories, nothing and I just went. Then I saw him. Himanshu Devgan, lead singer of the band. Ok, he actually has a normal face, with adorable dimples. I found him very very charming even without interacting with him. We girls found him freaking hot after he opened his mouth (and sang :P) but I actually have seen better looking Delhi boys. But this guy had some charm. The irritating part was all the girls liked him a lot, but everyone picked on me for having a crush on him :| Hmph! Obviously my obsessive compulsive shyness disorder pricked up when the others asked me to go and talk to him after the show ended. Finally I went up, and ended up talking more with the others :| I just couldn't talk to him. Others were extremely friendly and sweet, actually even he was/is very down to earth and friendly but I looked at my shoes (heels), looked at the other band guys (Oh God I hope they didn't think I was line maaring on them also), in short, I just couldn't talk or look at him. *sigh* And and and, he is a law student, so we actually had a topic to talk about, but no sir. I know, I know I suck.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOEqxOmzp8HcR6od7WvGKqiNxwD_r-9dX-pz3eyi8ZOBucsEd8_ELUW6OfDpr1TdYxBComEVY3SXwsz-SnO-UNl-9ZokoqJTgMR4clBsPr1cu_ETSmGva0SRD4GIBlmFayAO4TXTAREk/s1600/hmm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOEqxOmzp8HcR6od7WvGKqiNxwD_r-9dX-pz3eyi8ZOBucsEd8_ELUW6OfDpr1TdYxBComEVY3SXwsz-SnO-UNl-9ZokoqJTgMR4clBsPr1cu_ETSmGva0SRD4GIBlmFayAO4TXTAREk/s320/hmm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710359182153262402" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, we landed on each other's Facebook lists, and I hate Facebook chat, so I don't bother stalking him on chat. And again, he is my height so I don't actually *want* him :P Yes, I am very finicky about the height factor, deal with it! <br />So, the band was back a month ago, this time I told myself to talk properly with him and atleast be friendly and not embarrass him by blushing and stammering and stumbling over my words. I met him and I realized I was over him :O So my crush list still stopped at 2, in real life (for now :P) But of course, my friends in the NGO wouldn't let me off so easily, would they?? They screamed my name, out loud, when he had just finished a song, and I went beet-root red despite me being sure I am over him. And then he actually paused and said, "Hi, Madhuri" on the mike, out loud :O I think blood circulation must have stopped in my body since all the blood must have collected in my face to make it so red. Oh and I freaked out the next moment, because my boss had also received an invite for the same concert and I had bunked office that evening to attend the concert. So I was worried whether my boss saw me or heard my name being called out. Anyway, this is something I can tell my grandkids about! :D<br /><br />He's still very sweet, extremely down to earth and has an adorable smile, and sexy voice. I do not know about his relationship status, but I know that he will always remain my first real life rockstar crush :D<br /><br />P.S.- I am going to show him this post, so kindly keep your creepy comments about him to yourself, and not on the blog :P <br />P.P.S- Himanshu, I hope u don't mind that I have stolen your pic and thrown it here :OMadshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-87819543267561524362011-11-14T23:07:00.000-08:002011-11-14T23:40:00.965-08:00ImMobileSo those know me would know that I'm technologically challenged. I'm fairly good at computers but when you throw words like "Unix" or "XP", I'm like, whoa, talk in English please!<br /><br />It's the same case with me and mobiles, only- I'm worse with mobiles than with computers. Apparently, CDMA and GSM (I had to google to confirm their short forms) are somethings every mobile user must know. <br /><br />So, I got my first cellphone when I started college mainly because I was staying in a hostel. I SMSed away to glory, not knowing how much would be cut from my balance (What's that?) Slowly, I learnt it all but apparently it wasn't enough....<br /><br />My protective parents decided to get me a post paid scheme after my first year instead of a pre paid scheme because I used to go like, "I can't call you because I have less balance" when in reality, I wanted to use the balance for <span style="font-style:italic;">other purposes</span>.Of course, I could not exploit the post paid scheme since you can see the number of calls you make, in the bill which but obviously went to my parents. Facepalm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjJGV8QdRumDbaSi8pNIIQHr_eeTu1MS3T8oHclHmlOBdzkTKC0cILdOLKhyphenhyphenhSNi3xXLtM4jSuza1emeWXJhyHNDVnxF5BaWESGw_VT_FS2S_Qrae29aQBBkMgpTpSsaNKQo7PgCiB3o/s1600/haila.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjJGV8QdRumDbaSi8pNIIQHr_eeTu1MS3T8oHclHmlOBdzkTKC0cILdOLKhyphenhyphenhSNi3xXLtM4jSuza1emeWXJhyHNDVnxF5BaWESGw_VT_FS2S_Qrae29aQBBkMgpTpSsaNKQo7PgCiB3o/s320/haila.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675123524367816930" /></a><br /><br />I used to have a free messaging scheme of around 1k messages but during my 4th year, I cut down messaging a lot, I used around 200-300 per day. So, mom asked me to go to the Airtel centre and get the scheme deactivated and activate this scheme.<br /><br />Now, WHY do mobile shops have such cute guys? Obviously I had to make a fool out of myself by displaying my poor mobile sense. <br /><br />Me: I want to get blah blah blah activated.<br />Cute guy: You could have just call our toll free number and gotten it done. You needn't have come.<br />Me: Ohh..(gathers herself) But how will I know if you have <span style="font-style:italic;">really </span> activated the scheme? Huh?<br />Cute guy: Fine fine, let me activate it for you.<br />*activates*<br />Cute guy: There, you go.<br />Me: Oh thanks! How much do I have to pay?<br />Cute guy: *poker face* Nothing.<br />Me: Oh no, I insist, how much is it?<br />Cute guy: Errrrm.. You are having a post paid scheme. So you will get a bill at your place. You don't have to pay us anything.<br />Me: ..........<br /><br /><a href="http://simbasprideland.blogspot.com/">Simba</a>, aren't you nodding along with this post? :P<br /><br />In other news, I'm still having the same old post paid scheme, which I still cannot exploit despite the fact that I'm working, because I live with my parents. HELP !!Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-65445423318790456292011-10-09T06:29:00.000-07:002011-10-09T06:58:34.838-07:00Hungover!Alright... so I have that sad thing called a writer's block now... I read my previous blogposts, hoping to get the blogging mood but unfortunately I don't think it's working..So I am just going to yap for some minutes and then post it so that I don't feel guilty for not blogging anymore :P<br /><br />I loved Mausam. Yes, you read that right. Yes, the last 15 mins were unnecessary but on the whole, it was very sweet and cute. I believe in the concept of soul mates. There is one special person made for each and every person on this earth. There was this Facebook page which was on the lines of- "The person who you are going to get married to someday is somewhere on this earth right now" Ok, that might sound gay and cheesy in the first read but oh c'mon! Isn't this the cutest? :D <br /><br />I have had dozens of conversations with my friends, mom, aunt about my dream guy. Now that I am 22, I am even more open about the whole relationship concept with my parents who wisely advised me to find my own guy rather than putting them through the whole ordeal :P <br /><br />My experience with my crushes or infatuation with some guys has been <span style="font-style:italic;">extremely</span> SLOW with each one. If I like a guy, I need at least 1 year to be sure if I really like him. And especially if he reciprocates back, I need 2 years! Call it commitment phobia, but I am not someone who can easily fall in love. Yes, I have had dozens of celebrity crushes, but in real life, I just had one crush before college, and during college, I had one. Most of the time, the height factor didn't work out (I am 5.8"5.<insert sad/happy smiley> I seriously don't know if this awesome height was a blessing or a curse since I hardly find any guys who are even 6 feet tall!) Mom tells me I'm a snob because I am very choosy about my friends and my special man. Hell yes, I never believed in compromises.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvnQuxQJNBjhOl_-ndIqgXPYjXmHpPtV8Q1w3wQZX9rwucjmaXXHrRAQ-LjdbDsL4UwFRNswTjhhanN69IpcP2-_0kv3OJX6RGcDjw5vyR7y6wGxp6_0QJqQ_644kxu47u-y868YAu4s/s1600/man.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvnQuxQJNBjhOl_-ndIqgXPYjXmHpPtV8Q1w3wQZX9rwucjmaXXHrRAQ-LjdbDsL4UwFRNswTjhhanN69IpcP2-_0kv3OJX6RGcDjw5vyR7y6wGxp6_0QJqQ_644kxu47u-y868YAu4s/s320/man.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661489698139834770" /></a><br /><br />My friend is dating a guy who is 1 inch shorter than her. Now, she is a very close friend of mine, so I actually considered not keeping the height factor important now. Another friend of mine is engaged to a guy (arranged marriage) but she wasn't very happy with his looks. We all say that personality is the most important thing, but we all know somewhere inside, everyone of us wants a good looking girl/boy. Maybe for the genes to pass on to the kids or just to flaunt him/her around or maybe for the simple reason of looking good together. But both these friends are now very happy with their respective guys, touch wood. They had to make some compromises and they will have to make some in the future.... Which again makes me introspect on whether I will be able to relax on my ground rules of my special guy? <br /><br />To conclude this aimless post, I'm 22, single and on the look out. Here's to some new experiences! :D<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8anu1UUpjwblGdoQtYCvWXL0OgDLnQkVy0NUDjVX8gAYEwAJPO5aIHEbG9rZzAKa_k4kjhE8UOiBXBP8pXrpFDN0MkYTQqVRT4yaAhPu0yGJEQWZXjeftIxisMHuOLgJlsCMNja9CB8/s1600/Bradley-Cooper-258x400.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8anu1UUpjwblGdoQtYCvWXL0OgDLnQkVy0NUDjVX8gAYEwAJPO5aIHEbG9rZzAKa_k4kjhE8UOiBXBP8pXrpFDN0MkYTQqVRT4yaAhPu0yGJEQWZXjeftIxisMHuOLgJlsCMNja9CB8/s320/Bradley-Cooper-258x400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661491291722322706" /></a><br /><br />My recentest celebrity crush- Bradley Cooper. OMG. Maal or what.<br />There's a Facebook page,I Wish Phil From The Hangover Was MY Teacher At School.. I'd Go Every Day. <br />SERIOUSLY!Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-84869271826251766352011-08-19T09:47:00.000-07:002011-08-19T10:25:21.637-07:00Flying on a high!Holla!
<br />
<br />So, I'm working as a volunteer at this NGO in Ahmedabad. The NGO mainly concentrates on the development of municipality school children. I won't elaborate more on what my NGO does or what my role is, over there, but I just want to vent out over here. Some of my closest friends thought I was a loser because I opted to volunteer for *FREE* for an NGO. I mean, the whole point of a non-government organization, is that you won't get paid, right? On the day Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows-2 released, my NGO organized this huge concert to raise funds for notebooks for the children. If you guys must know, I'm a HUGE Potter fan. I had to chuck watching the movie on the first day (the movie was shit anyway) due to my prior commitment towards my NGO. I felt very bad when one of my closest friend told me that I don't even get paid at the NGO, so why am I even bothering. But mom told me later on that she is very proud of me for sticking to my decision and not running off for the movie. Some other friends have appreciated my guts for working with an NGO. Thanks for the support, people. At such times, you actually find out who are your real friends and who aren't. And you figure out what is actually important to you in life.
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisR_vbP5lCP_jCykl9zEO3MZU4N7p5HQNowOuybo5rudjHnyyoNM9NvrSGd2L86HZfaqgzO9rVVnVw_NhjXd2NwctdsyPKLHxy8-Io0AunrfvGHNy0yTbhEUAHqRTTfsQtxv71QUw0Q0k/s1600/280529_2267342526250_1329156201_2620668_6846897_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisR_vbP5lCP_jCykl9zEO3MZU4N7p5HQNowOuybo5rudjHnyyoNM9NvrSGd2L86HZfaqgzO9rVVnVw_NhjXd2NwctdsyPKLHxy8-Io0AunrfvGHNy0yTbhEUAHqRTTfsQtxv71QUw0Q0k/s320/280529_2267342526250_1329156201_2620668_6846897_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642618756072682722" /></a>
<br />
<br />Pic- OUR KIDS :D
<br />
<br />I can't stop talking about my NGO. The kids there are so awesome. Some kids wanted to be a lawyer but they were afraid of wearing that white wig. Lol. I told them that there is no need of wearing that white wig- FYI, even judges needn't wear that! They literally die for company. They pounce on us volunteers when we come and blabber on and on and on !! A kid told me about his crush and how he doesn't believe in love anymore after his crush started 'playing' with some other boy :P
<br />
<br />In other news, here's a Mom joke- Mom was scribbling invitation cards for her wedding reception in Chennai. She had the habit of writing 'fly' in short for 'family'. So, in Bombay, there was this Gujarati family called 'Macchar'. So, my innocent mom writes 'Macchar and fly' on the invitation card. Our darling Macchar doesn't come for the reception all the way to Chennai because he used to work in Bombay with mom. Later on, mom found out that he felt really bad because she wrote 'Macchar and fly' on the card :P :P
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOdbs0tRbdhRrBphiJN4GLF1Vu-XqpEutz6Cwo-bybGDfU1jYWLHeLeh_VketRbOcYL4q5s17XAVj31guKhXmzrBb541HLJthblGqivgONeBMBa6kWFao01GgjRRYoV6Z9H9cpCMSNSs/s1600/fly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOdbs0tRbdhRrBphiJN4GLF1Vu-XqpEutz6Cwo-bybGDfU1jYWLHeLeh_VketRbOcYL4q5s17XAVj31guKhXmzrBb541HLJthblGqivgONeBMBa6kWFao01GgjRRYoV6Z9H9cpCMSNSs/s320/fly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642619229243472370" /></a>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-23986478515354027842011-06-17T07:04:00.000-07:002011-06-17T10:13:51.889-07:00Nosey !I live in a city called Ahmedabad which is in Gujarat. Gujarat is known for its hospitality- which is true. For a non-gujju family like us, we were welcomed pretty warmly in the city. The autowales, the grocery guys, the newspaper guys, the servants who works in neighbouring apartments- all know what each member of the family is doing. It's pretty much a pain in the ass for me because while my sister scores some 90% in Boards, they gobble up sweets and when they enquire about my results and I mumble 60-70%, they give me a go-die look. Hello, when my parental units don't care or compare us kids, WHY should you interfere??<br /><br />There was this time when my cousin brother came down to visit us. He and I decided to go out in the afternoon when my mom went to work. We went by one of the autos waiting near our place. That evening, mom comes home and tells me that one of the auto guys told her that I(her daughter) was accompanied by a boy to a multiplex. Gah!! Luckily, my mom is uber cool even if that boy wasn't my cousin, i.e. if I inform her in advance that I am out with Mr. Blah. But, how nosey can you get??! :O<br /><br />There's this Facebook page which says 'Hey, I found your nose, it was in my business again!' I couldn't agree more!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwnDUu6r1EiLmSKsHEi1Xkko6elTYGdZdyTv7dwLl0J8aIMakmCwwQcJ9ZKBioDD4ohCxwoEvWO-FyotYehSo_AaTvUuIMBX6Vr6IyXiv8_IWh_PsR2eciCM7ylJlc6StYy7WpcjX9XA/s1600/nosey.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwnDUu6r1EiLmSKsHEi1Xkko6elTYGdZdyTv7dwLl0J8aIMakmCwwQcJ9ZKBioDD4ohCxwoEvWO-FyotYehSo_AaTvUuIMBX6Vr6IyXiv8_IWh_PsR2eciCM7ylJlc6StYy7WpcjX9XA/s320/nosey.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619237920608497474" /></a><br /><br />Reminds me of a time when I was Miss Nosey Parker. Ok, so I have this terrible habit of asking loads of questions and poking everyone, almost all the time. When I was in 5th standard, mom and I were waiting at the road end. This Rabari family (nomads from Kutch) have a bungalow at the road end. So this member of their family was peeing outside their gate. I peered, stared and peeked as to what he was doing. Mom was distracted because she was getting late for work and I was getting late for school. I tugged the end of her sari and asked her what he was doing. Mom mumbled that I should ask him myself. I hopped across to him and asked him in english, "What are you doing?" He just stared at me. Mom came and pulled me away from him. Hehe :P<br /><br />Any nosey tale where you were the victim or you were the predator? Go ahead!Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-48637396518733999742011-05-14T04:39:00.000-07:002011-05-14T04:51:58.459-07:00A Whole New Path....2011 has been and will be the most important year in my life. January was a turning point with some significant person leaving my life forever. I still don't know if it's for the good or for the bad, but it's his decision and I have to move on. It's been 5 months and I still have not moved on. I should be showering abuses on him and holding a huge grudge, but unfortunately I am not programmed to do so. For me, he is still a very good friend even though we will never talk to each other again. I'm too benevolent for my own good.<br /><br />I finally graduated! 5 years in college- Who would have thought I would be in tears in my last week in college? I hated the fucklty. I hated the students who were hypocrites, mean and outrightly bitchy. Some juniors specially made 'I will miss you' cards for me and gave me many farewell gifts. It was so touching....I never knew that I was popular in our college for the right reasons. In school, I was always sidelined. It felt weird to be liked by all. I wish I could go back to college again and just be lazy and happy.<br /><br />I'm looking for a job now outside my hometown. Unfortunately, my parents and I are having contrasting opinions over my preference of a job. Coming back to home after living in hostel for 5 years (and I used to go out of station for my internships) is a serious pain the ass. I just want to get out of my hometown. I need a new environment. Need to meet new people. <br /><br />Ok, I really have forgotten have to blog. Later.Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-37738925261078392822011-03-17T02:24:00.000-07:002011-03-17T02:49:47.244-07:00Hah-lah-peh-nyohs and Kamran Akmals :D*waves* Ok, I am blogging after light years, but then again hardly anyone is reading my blog since the last few posts so boo to you, it's okay if I didn't blog all this while, you didn't even miss me !! :(<br /><br />I didn't finish my last post actually...I published it before the hostel net could go off (My net keeps going in and out of coma all the time).I was talking about my disorder of correcting people especially their grammar. So, during one of my trips to Subway in Jamshedpur, I had to get a sub for a friend of mine <a href="http://simbasprideland.blogspot.com/">Simba</a>, who is very specific and stubborn about her dos and dont's in her sub. She called me while I was at the Tata Steel office for my internship and much to the amusement of the junior associates there, I wrote down diligently in my pad- "No tomatoes, no cucumbers and put in more jalapenoes and pickles" (Yes, the sub turned out to be tasteless and she knows that and she doesn't mind that!!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEiItvDun94I59LTG9_MBQOgGd74Uit2N2CZqVv1byTy4_yFJ4pdD7i4eiAX5L0VLg32M4N6gohL1TEY6pkB0N6vT8y4jDRIcoFqqGa9KFEf060_WzqVs0Zcc899bDSMHUVFpRXFcAkM/s1600/jalapenos-400x300.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEiItvDun94I59LTG9_MBQOgGd74Uit2N2CZqVv1byTy4_yFJ4pdD7i4eiAX5L0VLg32M4N6gohL1TEY6pkB0N6vT8y4jDRIcoFqqGa9KFEf060_WzqVs0Zcc899bDSMHUVFpRXFcAkM/s320/jalapenos-400x300.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584983080019889858" /></a><br /><br />So, I go to the counter lady and blah blah the instructions. Jalapenoes is pronounced as hah-lah-PEH-nyoh, btw for those ignorant souls. The counter lady goes like, "No JALAPENOES?" I smirk and roll my eyes thinking, "Lol, obviously they don't know the correct pronounciation."<br /><br />The lady was called by her boss for some other work, so she left and was replaced by this guy. So I repeat the same order to him, only this time I pronounce it as JALAPENOES itself. The guy goes like, "You mean no hah-lah-peh-nyohs?"<br /><br />Needless to say, I looked down at my shoes for being Mean Mads yet again.<br /><br />Anyway! It's the last semester going on in college so I'm enjoying to the fullest. I got the tickets for the quarter finals of World Cup to be played at A'bad and I'm hoping for an Indo-Pak clash! The Sports Meet at our college had football for girls this time which was awefucksome....I was the goalkeeper and it was a dream come true to learn football !! College life getting over is pretty depressing, but hell yeah, I'm ready to get out and conquer the world \:D/<br /><br />Btw onto World Cup 2011 news, have u heard the Kamran Akmal jokes? To rewind, Kamran Akmal dropped Ross Taylor on 0 twice and that bloke went on to make a hundred. Lovely Kamran jokes were floating around. Like:<br /><br />1) What's Kamran Akmal's favourite pick up line?<br />Can I drop you somewhere?<br /><br />2) What's the worst way to get out?<br />Caught Akmal<br /><br />3) If Pakistan won the World Cup, they should not give Kamran the cup.<br /><br />4) Why are we targetting Kamran Akmal?<br />Just DROP the topic now!! <br /><br />I haven't blogged for ages, but it's not that I'm running out of ideas to blog...I shall be back sooner the next time with a complete mads-like post, I assure you!! <br /><br />Loadsa love che :)Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-25070995167742607862011-01-14T21:24:00.000-08:002011-01-14T21:42:35.886-08:00My awesome disorder B-)I have this obsession of correcting people’s grammar, be it face to face or on Facebook or anywhere. I even told this to one recruiter who was mighty pleased at this disorder of mine. Most of my friends find it cool, some find it insulting and some find it as a good lesson (They learn better English in that way, so why stop?)<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562280979185420802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMgM7YL5HJIlJ0fQwshkuvw34oUI-QBV1lBycK7DAi6WtcsJ9Y8tjIWOa4yUI9NyTdbBuHbsfBEQhAYQ_eUMi8Q2lxbywsrrQssyupBsiQS0ezEKRwVCKiWdfyvkNxe9VhFsyhHwR1XJs/s320/prrrr.gif" border="0" /><br />I tried hard to stop or make it a little subtle, but in vain. I guess I can’t change now, so people have to endure the change :D </p><p>There were these 2 incidents related to this disorder of mine which weren’t exactly pleasant….<br /><br />1) My sister and I had been to an ice cream parlour. Now, in most of these shops in Gujarat, the guys there call ‘Chocobar’ ice cream as ‘Chocbar’. And me and my sister used to find it very funny and we used to ridicule them later. So, I walked up to this shop assistant and I ordered for 2 ‘Chocbars’. That guy stared at me and went like, “You mean 2 Chocobars?”<br /><br />My sister and I hung our heads in shame. Yes, we acted pretty cocky there.<br /><br />2) Lesson number 2 came when I visited Subway, in Jamshedpur. I was ordering a sub for <a href="http://www.simbasprideland.blogspot.com/">Simba</a> (Yo yo, we are real life friends :D Btw, I had a blast with her there. She made Jamshedpur feel like like home :D) One of my friends is studying Zoology. So, her batchmate had prepared a poster on '10 most dangerous insects'. So that girl tells this topic to her HOD and her HOD suddenly gave her a wtf look and told her that how can she make a poster on such a thing? This girl was confused, and so were her batchmates. So, she simply gave the poster to the HOD. The HOD sees it and laughs. He goes like, "Oh, I heard that as 10 most dangerous in sex. So I thought you wrote the dangerous things that can happen in sex."</p><p>Bloody pervert :P</p>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-71987570621380347702010-11-19T10:35:00.000-08:002010-11-19T10:39:31.877-08:00I did a yap-yap-yappity yap !!I have given up on expecting and thinking on and on about anything I want. Clinging on to something, just won't help. It's like sand, however tight you try to hold it, it trickles out of your fist. Last year, at this time, life couldn't have been better. I had everything I had hoped for. I never expected that I would stand at such a point today that I had to change my blog URL, lose more than half of my followers, hide whatever I feel from family and friends.<br /><br />Sometimes, things just don't work out how you want them. I’m an Arien and Ariens are the most useless, emotional creatures. I get attached and used to something in life very quickly…Which is my weakness. Maybe I shouldn’t vomit all this in my blog, but such stuff doesn’t come out in my personal diary.<br /><br />Onto some fun stuff, I went for the first day of the India-NZ test match at Ahmedabad. Saw Sehwag and Dravid centuries and got a Murali Vijay wave, which was cool. I recently went to Gurgaon for something related to college (If you know what it is, don’t write it in the comments, please) and I met a guy there who uncannily resembled an old friend who I don’t talk to anymore. He was in a bad mood, so he was rude and bit my head off a number of times. I finally asked if is he rude naturally or does he make an effort at it. He laughed and he apologized saying he didn’t know why he was in a bad mood. I correctly guessed that he was a Gemini. He gave me a WTF look because I guessed his sun sign within 10 mins of knowing him. No wonder we are not in touch now. He must think I’m demented !! Although, there was a very good chance that he was a Scorpio, because he was reserved. But the mood swings and random phases of talkativeness(is this a word?) was a very obvious reason for choosing Gemini. I’m pretty good at guessing peoples’ sun signs, with some exceptions, of course. I don’t know, it’s a thing with girls and obsession with sun signs, I guess? I even guessed a girl's sun sign (Taurus) correctly (She loved me after my accurate description on WHY she is a Taurean....Girls and boys are so different, seriously!!), so it was a sunny day for my signs :DMadshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-7303473792835690272010-10-17T05:26:00.000-07:002010-10-17T05:53:22.641-07:00Clean, Green, Really?<div>Ok, so we all crib about the sad state of affairs India is in. We crib about the unorganized traffic, the laidback nature of policemen, we sadly look on as men pee merrily on roads, spit on roads or litter.</div><div></div><br /><div>I have a policy of getting angry on person A and removing my frustration on person B. (sniggers) Yeah, because with some friends, you just can't show your frustration or if it's parents then you just have to give up without arguing. So why not turn towards the outsiders and especially such wrong-doers?</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528996721135758866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84vaWLmxOJmKvoJccy30xOwabp9mFxfD6i9sSed4XCX80CcyzS45P-85GKgGbV9TVD2AzxWn64gBDEj4r8Ic2ash4Rl61Ka6EOetlhA8yqZxzZrn9NhoVnTqt9pXtkrR-bEnxSvt32UQ/s320/shimla.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Contrary to what everyone thinks, I DO NOT WEAR the black coat or gown when I go to the High Court for my internship. Only after I clear the bar exam next year, I'm allowed to wear the coveted black gown (AND I WILL LOOK AWESOME IN IT-*gulps*) So, I don't have any proof to show ki bhai, I'm not as sweet and innocent as I look, I'm a nasty lawyer who likes to keep the streets clean and spitting on roads is equivalent to Kasab's war against India for me. My mom doesn't encourage this 'shouting on autowale when they spit' business of mine, because I'm a dainty girl and all that rubbish, and yes I admit it, sometimes the autowales abuse me or drive rashly or do ajeeb harkatein just because I asked them not to spit on the roads (A Hyderabadi experience, it was :P ). I don't think it's still a valid reason to stop them for spitting, right?</div><br /><div></div><div>I ran a google search for the Ahmedabad Municipality Corporation (AMC) website, looking for the fine to be imposed for spitting, littering, peeing on the roads(unfortunately I can't stop a man from peeing on the road, but it's good to know, maybe I can tell/threaten all you males to stop it) But the website is like ridiculous. I couldn't find anything concrete, and my hatred for the government increased as high as Sachin Tendulkar's average against Australia this year (Above 100 I mean, btw) Somewhere randomly it is mentioned that the fine ranges between 50-500 bucks. </div><div></div><br /><div>Now, despite being a lawyer, I cannot collect fines from them, but at least I can threaten them.</div><div> </div><div>You can do the same, by just making an effort to stop them. Whether they listen to you or not is their headache, but at least you can contributing your part in keeping your city clean.</div><br /><div></div><div>P.S- I didn't mean to make the full post about this.Man I can talk on the most random things on earth.... :( </div><div>Btw, the pic is true, spitting and littering is banned in Shimla.</div><br /><div>See you next time :)</div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-35383761232334844902010-10-03T00:23:00.000-07:002010-10-03T01:14:45.360-07:00Stopped.WTF AM I DOING?<br /><br /><br />This is one question I ask myself gazillion times a day.<br /><br />I cry and crumble into pieces wondering what I am doing.<br /><br />Where am I headed to in life?<br /><br />Do I even like law?<br /><br />Was it just another bloody impulse when I took up law?<br /><br /><br />Frankly, during all my internships, I have worked hard, but I am not happy doing that.<br /><br />It's like a burden on me. My knowledge in law is almost zilch.<br /><br />What are my parents and sister gonna say if I tell them I don't know what I want to do after I graduate?<br /><br />I graduate in April 2011.<br /><br />I can't go for career counselling because I have been there after my 12th and my aptitude results showed that they didn't know what is perfect for me! Hah! I was born screwed!<br /><br />I changed my blog url so that none of my relatives or college friends read my blog now. And if they do it, they'll drag me for career counselling, or a psychiatrist or make me drop a year, something.<br /><br />Ok, I ranted crap right now. And if I'm depressing you to death or I bored you, don't bother commenting CRAP and I don't care a damn if you didn't like the irritating music coming out of my playlist. That's the least of my worries now.<br /><br />Almost forever, I have helped each and every friend of mine get through their problems and shit in life, so when I need someone, just stand by or else fuck off.<br /><br />I have had enough with people.<br />P.S- Just a little happy element in the post- Anjaana Anjaani was awesome.Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-1903316452654149982010-09-30T06:57:00.000-07:002010-09-30T07:09:27.332-07:00Blabbereddddd :P<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOYR5DHZ8BIrYqMXEpo8xfYoYiQXSpxpeVmfAoNzi7K66lIekeMPfcp5p3B5A4a2BFQ_cPeQ-KUEjfks3K7Er2yYwCwtsgGAveHAbhOythVM2zvzSXbMdQxaerF9tl4Vcu7IOXzvlehA/s1600/if_u_love_someone_129.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522708112691121426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOYR5DHZ8BIrYqMXEpo8xfYoYiQXSpxpeVmfAoNzi7K66lIekeMPfcp5p3B5A4a2BFQ_cPeQ-KUEjfks3K7Er2yYwCwtsgGAveHAbhOythVM2zvzSXbMdQxaerF9tl4Vcu7IOXzvlehA/s320/if_u_love_someone_129.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">The smile in your eyes,</div><br />The charm in your talk,<br /><br />The sweetness in your spice,<br /><br />The ease in your walk,<br /><br />The mood from low to high,<br /><br />The love behind the angry glare,<br /><br />The laugh behind your cry,<br /><br />The awkward glance in your stare,<br /><br />The kid in your office suit,<br /><br />The handsome man in ganji-shorts,<br /><br />The blabbermouth when you're mute,<br /><br /><br /><br />The lame pics for which you have the hots,<br /><br />The 'I need you' in your 'get lost',<br /><br />My uncombed hair, you ruffle with glee,<br /><br />The responsibility you take for my cost,<br /><br />The sadness in my wink, you can see,<br /><br />The problem of mine becomes a solution,<br /><br />My simple sniff becomes a grave disease,<br /><br />My cruel words are like a love potion,<br /><br />Every argument, debate, fight you inevitably cease.<br /><br /><br /><br />When everything is perfect, things are still so wrong,<br /><br />This is bloody fiction, how did you like this song? :P<br /><br /><br /></div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-77806871107355472442010-09-11T13:18:00.000-07:002010-09-11T14:14:31.300-07:00Making the Right ChoiceRight now, I'm stuck in this phase, where everything is moving too fast, or suddenly things move way too slowly. A lot is gonna change in the coming months, and I should be welcoming the change. I remember, I took this genuine aptitude test sorta thing long back, and I found out that I have a phobia of moving forward. Now, it's not exactly the awesomest phobia, I prefer being scared of dogs and escalators. I like meeting new people , trying out new things, having changes in my life, but I'm <em>actually actually</em> scared I won't be happy where I go. If I have a job and I don't like it and I can't come out of it, being the person that I am, I'm just not gonna survive in such an environment!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515765801308941986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLC5ncNaP0_fXwfeTvJSQg3wX3bU1IqeIH_jpKhECXe_9thyphenhyphenlj0ZAdUzzLvHrjls1IkyfMxesD2-33ab40JP018NJNlGXBsiRisEVJxoaeP1YtWdms4QV9WwvksVSoqq_6kxd3nub0i0/s320/choice.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>I always thought that whatever I do in my life, will be what I WANT to do. I thought my first job will be what I deserve, and what I like, and what I want to do forever. But, a lot of my friends are doing jobs just for the heck of it, or just to waste one year till they go for their higher studies. I dunno how they can survive doing something they don't like!</div><br /><div>I see myself doing the same thing now. I dunno why, but I feel my ego is getting a beating somewhere if I do a job which I'm not enjoying. I mean I haven't got a job yet, but now I know it's gonna be something which won't be my first preference.</div><br /><div></div><div>Maybe it's peer pressure, or what, I dunno, but everyone I know who is going to graduate this year is stressed and behaving like a total maniac. So bear with me, since you have also been through the same phase before, or you are gonna go through the same phase soon.</div><br /><div></div><div>Whoever said that after 12th, your life is set and college is only gonna be fun and party, is gonna get a whack from Chulbul Pandey. Oyeeeeeeeeeeee Dabbang!! Awesome or what?!?! I'm high on Salman all over again!!! But I still miss the cute romantic Sallu in Maine Pyaar Kiya and Hum Aapke Hai Kaun. Although, this hawt police inspector was a welcome change! Special mention to Sonu Sood. Mmmmmmm :D</div><div> </div>And listen to 2012 by Jay Sean!! Awesome lyrics, good music, good Jay Sean, fun fun fun !!!<br /><br /><div></div><div>A small favour from you guys. Please vote for this film. It requires logging in, so please don't be lazy, it's for a noble cause! You can do your good deed for today!! =D</div><div> </div><div><a href="http://www.linktv.org/viewchangefilmcontest/films/view/1056">http://www.linktv.org/viewchangefilmcontest/films/view/1056</a></div><div></div><div> </div><div>Patnaik’s film ‘Zero to Hero’ is competing with 105 entries from across the world. The contest has six categories: sustainability, innovation, overcoming conflict, empowerment, leadership & governance and local/global partnerships. Submitted under ‘empowerment’ category, Zero to Hero is on the fourth position. Winners in each category will receive $5,000 (Rs 2.32 lakh) while the grand prize is of $20,000 (Rs 9.28 lakh). “If we win, we will donate the prize money to Helpline Education which has been sustaining itself on donation alone,” said Patnaik, who works for an organisation that empowers poor women. </div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-38905403556541452332010-08-29T01:31:00.000-07:002010-08-29T01:56:04.342-07:00The Date with the Future Indian cricket team star- Part 3I'm sure all you oldies must be remembering this post of mine?<br /><a href="http://madhuriaries.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-date-with-future-indian-cricket-team.html">http://madhuriaries.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-date-with-future-indian-cricket-team.html</a><br />And all you newbies need to read Part 1 and Part 2 of this post, to be able to understand this post! :P<br /><br />Guess what? I found him on Facebook! Well, not exactly his profile. His fan page! I got it through Team Punjab fan club. I was busy avoiding my projects, so something came up and I decided to google search for him again. This FB page just started, so well :D<br /><br />His pic isn't that clear, but hey, something is better than nothing :P<br /><br /><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Preet-Kamal-Rai/139476882751258?ref=sgm&v=wall#!/pages/Preet-Kamal-Rai/139476882751258?v=info">http://www.facebook.com/pages/Preet-Kamal-Rai/139476882751258?ref=sgm&v=wall#!/pages/Preet-Kamal-Rai/139476882751258?v=info</a><br /><br />Let's see if he ends up googling his own name and reads this post. All I can say is, hello, remember me? :P<br />P.S- Read the wall! He made 147*. Btw, he didnt' even lie about his birthday despite knowing he is younger than me! He was in college 1st year, studying psychology when I was in my 3rd year. He's only some months younger than me though. Oh, I should shut up now. I don't like him!<br /><br />:PMadshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-25161519544622559882010-08-14T00:23:00.000-07:002010-08-14T02:12:37.724-07:00365 Days.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUP13BjLopnOWYmxwLu7yMdN2fudkOq0mF59eyc4Rnmqr44g4bllZ3kTqjfWhgbZlnqt4xStfbZRdJ8kNF5hqGwi6N3MVOGEseMB6Cyb-S7A7kGsD8KU_etMhK8ZSYBUrWF2Up6yhj8SY/s1600/scan0048.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505186407775502930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUP13BjLopnOWYmxwLu7yMdN2fudkOq0mF59eyc4Rnmqr44g4bllZ3kTqjfWhgbZlnqt4xStfbZRdJ8kNF5hqGwi6N3MVOGEseMB6Cyb-S7A7kGsD8KU_etMhK8ZSYBUrWF2Up6yhj8SY/s320/scan0048.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">It's been a year since the last talk,<br />A year since you fed the cows in the morn,<br />A year since we had our last walk,<br />A year since you fed me butter wala corn,<br />A year since you teased Granny as a routine,<br />A year since you ate oily disgusting potato chips,<br />A year since you gulped zillions of calcium and protein,<br />A year since you asked me GK riddles,<br />A year since you stared unblinkingly at Deepika Padukone,<br />A year since you were as fit as a fiddle,<br />A year since you fed me chocolate cones.<br /><br />A year since you put up with my tantrums,<br />A year since you made every pain seem mild,<br />A year since you cheered up when I was glum,<br />A year since you played with your great grand child,<br />A year since you followed politics diligently,<br />A year since you discussed the future of Indian cricket with me,<br />A year since you flirted with Granny in front of us shamelessly,<br />A year since you smiled that last smile with so much glee.<br /><br />I wished you Happy Independance Day when I last talked to you. </div><div align="center">Was it a coincidence that it turned out to be the last thing I ever said to you? </div><div align="center">Each day since then, about you, I always ponder,</div><div align="center">It's true, absence makes the heart grow fonder.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">P.S- Some newbies might not get it, so have to clarify, I guess. This post is a dedication to my grandpa who passed away a year ago. My grandmom is still alive, FYI. And yes I'm okay, just thought I should write something about him.</div><div align="left"> </div>Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3792265330242994155.post-35999410810120974262010-07-22T07:14:00.000-07:002013-06-14T04:54:13.899-07:00A Mature lesson on Immaturity.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
I deleted the last post because it wasn’t a worthy birthday post, rather it wasn’t worthy of a post at all :P This is a long post, with a <st1:place>LOT</st1:place> to tell you, so read it or else click the X button and leave.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started my final year in college this week. This is the last of the 5 years that we spent together but I felt like I was meeting them for the first time. The tension of placements and confusion of what to do after graduation is getting on to everyone. I don’t blame them, but it’s just getting depressing day by day. People glare at you if you Facebook. People stare at you if you laugh. I’m not the person to stress or to become hyper even if it means staying unemployed after graduation. I’m a practical person with almost 10 back up plans after my graduation. I know I’ll figure out something, but no one is letting me just be me. This has been a really difficult week in college…If any of my batchmates is reading this…I want you to stay cool! Or if you still want to freak out every single day till college ends…Then let me be me. You take stress, you lose hair, you get pimples and wrinkles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never had good friends in my life ever. I became close to my school friends only after I started my college. Even in college, I made only 3 good friends- 2 seniors and one batchmate. So in short, I do socialize, I do talk, but some friends who I think I'm close to, suddenly say they can’t stand me since I’m too immature for them!</div>
<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496735374123180274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWZFsyuHU8_szc_wXNnETKbPfkSrRpUUfwLEsD5oDufU0F0k-p5PRynsHpFU9cr9nDzgAu213hOJv6xJnNkbGCBJdzyztZyiZt2usJiQ2bzYWvMli9mlo5CUXiq_7Iw-oHOTBvaiJoAo/s320/image.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, let’s make this post on immaturity. Immaturity is doing something without thinking about the repercussions? No, wait that’s being impulsive! And better be impulsive and get done with what you want to do, than be confused and ponder whether I should/could/would have done it or not. Then, let’s see...Immaturity is when you nag and crib and create a fuss about things? I haven’t even properly nagged and cried my heart out to my mom or friends when my grandpa died. Beat that! Then, hmmm…Immaturity must be when you think of your future and list out the things you want to do. Isn’t that simply being ambitious? Ok, then immaturity is when you crack PJs or laugh aimlessly. Then just look into the mirror and count how many wrinkles you have, and while you are at that, check out my dimple on my right cheek! Next, immaturity is when you randomly say nice things and are affectionate to your friends. The last time I checked, that was being expressive and…cute! And the best way to let your friend know how much you love them!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have loads of definitions for what I think is immaturity but it’s only mature not to do that, since the real immature people are going to freak out on me if I do that ;)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Am I immature? Think again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S- A quote I always quote and I want everyone who has been called immature at any point in time to use it as your defence- <b><i>“Maturity is when and where to be immature.”</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.P.S- I feel like God! <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Happy 3</span></i></b><sup><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">rd</span></i></b></sup><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Birthday to my blog- Brian!</span></i></b> This post will surely displease a lot of people, but I just want you to know…That it’s not worth it to judge a friend and simply term them as immature after a small misunderstanding or leg-pulling session. That little big thing called ego shouldn’t come in between, if you are friends.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
</div>
Madshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09654391618536131785noreply@blogger.com14