XAT-ed part-I

By the third or fourth week of the term, business school had succeeded in afflicting me with a variation of the Stockholm syndrome, named after the incident in which a hostage in a Stockholm bank robbery fell in love with one of her captors. It brought out the materialistic part of me and how! It made me do things I had sworn not to do,ever. It turned me into the most selfish,self-centered and self-obsessed person I've ever known. I learned to ignore others asking for my help,I learned to pretend that I was yet to start working on my assignment when I,in fact,had them finished long ago. I learned to cheat on my friends,go to a movie with them,promising that all I'd do after getting home back would be 'lusting over George Clooney' when,in reality,the first thing I did after getting home was opening the books and working on the H.R project on 'Nicotine free cigarettes'.And,to my horror,I started enjoying it.I started coming up with excuses for justifying my action.'I bet they're no better than me' ,'If I waste time being a good friend in these two years,everyone would remember me as a good(unemployed) friend','I didn't come here to make friends or form bonds'...I reminded myself again and again that life in a business school was cruel.After becoming an MBA,you'd actually be paid for being selfish and mean.So,why not start practicing from now only? Besides,this neck-to-neck competition in a business school actually prepares you for all the hardships ahead.So,in a way,I was doing a favor to my friends.Preparing them for the hard reality instead of keeping them in an illusion,isn't that what friends do?But still,I couldn't really convince myself that it was 'fair' or 'equal' competition.My friends might have been equally dishonest for all I knew but my parents never taught me to live my life by the rule 'a tooth for a tooth.'Once upon a time,I had actually dreamed of being a much bigger person-someone who didn't think twice before comforting her friend when they went through a bad break up even if she had an exam the day after,someone who won't mind her friend copying her resume with just the name changed,someone who risked being disqualified in a practicals exam to help her friend.Turns out one can't be 'a good friend' and 'a good manager' at the same time.The weaker dream has to be given up.It's always 'survival of the fittest',even if it's the 'fittest dream'.

Time to get serious...

Looks like my no nonsense blogging has to come to an end.Or,make it a pause because I really,really love 'not making sense'.;-)
                        But on a serious note,my 'super cute but slightly too fair and a little too soft-spoken verbals teacher with pink lips(*Yawn*) and a British accent to die for' thinks that the habits I've picked up while blogging-mindless blabbering,not focusing on a certain topic and sticking to it,tending to deviate from the main issue after the first few lines...have something to do with the fact that my essays're either wild and desperate or just stupid and monotonous. I must say essay writing isn't my favorite activity. I hate it even more when someone else fixes the topic. I mean,c'mon,someone else telling me what to think about? Feels like such an intrusion! But there's nothing I can do about it. Since my D.I. skills are anything but 'good',my chances of cracking CAT are quite similar to Mallika Sherawat's chances of becoming the next thinking man's woman(Sorry Ms. Sherawat,please don't hate me.I'm not jealous of your vital stats.I even loved you in that 'Maiya maiya' song but I just couldn't think of a better example),I've decided to give XAT a try too.It focuses more on the English part.So,I might actually manage a better percentile than 40.96.(Yes,I'm THAT bad)
                                                                                                                                        So,for the coming three months,I need to concentrate more on terms like 'Consumerism','Communism','Capitalism','Socialism','General imbalance' and all. He says I've to practice A LOT. And what better place to practice than my OWN blog? So,that means all the posts singing paeans to 'Wow momo' and retail therapy will probably come to an end. Instead,you'll be greeted with 'hard hitting' abstract topics,so typical of XATs. But don't worry,I'm really bad at this.And who wants to write even a line about something they don't like? So,I'll try to pick the easiest and friendliest topics among the lot. But nonetheless,I'm sorry for torturing you.Feel free to skip my blog until January,I won't judge you.But please don't abuse my super cute 'Sanket sir'. I'll tell you a secret here. All that bullshit the elders used to tell us about teachers,no? That 'a teacher wants to make a student better.That's why when you do something good,they ask you to do it better.And when you're satisfied with your performance,they call you a loser and under performer only because they've your best interest at heart...',all that crap IS true! Most of my fellow students(the ones who attend the class,that is)struggle to even write a word,and still he criticizes me only! No,he doesn't beat students up like my first grade Maths auntie but his sharp words hurt you more than that. And don't even think about his sarcasm. It's as mean as it can get. I used to hate him a lot for it. I always wondered what I've done to him to make him hate me so much! 'I'm so nice to him! Why can't he just return me the favor?' But I guess he actually wanted me to shine where it matters. So,that was him returning the favors actually.Though that still doesn't explain why he keeps ignoring my shy glances.:-(
                     Anyway,so,I figured,if my 'light' and 'mindless' posts are to come to an end,why not give them a grand semi-farewell they deserve,irrespective of what he thinks(He's actually against anything light because it probably reminds him of Chetan Bhagat whom we both hate so passionately)?.Okay,Chetan Bhagat fans,you can stop giving me that mean look. I actually don't HATE him. I'm just 'not a fan'.
                                                                                                                         And I truly apologize to all those who clicked the 'Play' button so expectantly last night and found nothing. Turns out blogger doesn't like videos more than a minute long.Those of you who are really interested to see the videos,you can mail me.I'll try to mail you the videos back.

                                              And last but not the least,say 'hello' to my new jumpsuit. I bought it almost three months ago but was saving it for 'Durga Pujo'(The bong Chirstmas,you see).But I can't wait any more.Every night,I can't sleep thinking what'd happen if all the mice in the world were to decide that my sling was 'THE THING TO HAVE TONIGHT'.So,here goes the two things I love the most after books(and of course,dance features nowhere).And I'm obsessed with these pink pumps!I've bought almost five pairs after buying this one but I end up wearing it every other day!

I'm 21,I'm single and I don't swear by the word 'dance' any more,at least not until January but I still can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening than watching a Kathak recital.For all those who are allergic to anything related to Indian classical dance forms(or Indian classical music for that matter),I'd rather suggest you to skip this post.thank you for visiting anyway.
                                                 
                                                   For all those who're still here,welcome.Even if you're really not into classical dance or dance in general,fret not.There's always a first time.

                                                                                           I had the privilege of watching famous choreographer and Kathak exponent Luna Poddar and her disciples create magic on stage at Gyan Manch today.I didn't participate but I wasn't complaining.One of the best parts of sitting in the audience is that you get to absorb the whole mood.There's no hurry to get dressed for the next sequence,no tension regarding your steps...It's just pure bliss.I couldn't record the whole show,thanks to my memory card and its limited capabilities.I,in fact couldn't capture the most important moment-Luna ma'am performing.But then,there's no 'unimportant' moment in a recital.The first presentation was 'Shiksha' which the students dedicated to their 'guru'.The next was 'Taal Dhamaal',a group performance with complex footwork.Then there was 'Vasant Bahar'.The next was a 'jugalbandi' in 'Teen taal'.And last was a dance drama,about the various mental states of a 'nayika'.Thought would share the videos.hope you would enjoy them as much as I did.

To hell with civilization and all the unnecessary responsibilities it brings!

Who invented bad breath?Who decided that it was 'bad'?You see,the mint smell might seem 'bad' to those who're used to garlic.I envy our predecessors for having such a simple life!Go hunting,come back,roast the meat,eat it with your hands,make love and then go sleep.No pleasantries,no manners,no courtesy,no complications,no obligations,no conscience...only the survival instinct.They lived Darwin's theory.The fittest always survived and unapologetically so.The fittest never pretended to be nice to the weak-'Hey,so what if I'm the fittest?It's an equal society.You deserve to live as much as I do.',only never really meaning it.How has the world changed?Do the fifty percentage holders stand a chance before the ninety percentage holders?Does the store owner give the beautiful vintage dress to someone who can't afford it?Does that cute guy pursue you if the hot first bencher seems to take an equal interest in him?Only the fittest survives,even now.We've just changed the package.And it's far worse than selling the old wine an a new bottle.It makes you new false promises when all that wait for you is the old,cold,harsh truth.Wasn't a society that prepared you for the very worst right from the beginning better?At least you had the right to die without dreams.In my opinion,that's WAY better than dieing with unfulfilled dreams.Oh,how I miss the Stone Age!

H & F...

Funny thing about humiliation and failure-you face it for the first time,you feel almost betrayed.How could life do this to you?It's so unfair!You cry for days,then slowly you leave the bed,wash your face and get back to your mundane life.Gradually you get so used to it that life feels almost incomplete without H & F.It took me a long time to accept the truth that I don't have what it takes to be a dancer.I was dedicated,I wasn't even that bad.Long back,people used to actually compliment me for my intricate footwork in 'Kathak'.I went to a few auditions and I was never rejected in the first round.But I never made it to the third round anywhere.Then everything went wrong.I tried other forms-contemporary,jazz,a little hip hop and salsa basics...Nothing,absolutely nothing worked.I DID love doing contemporary.My body used to feel alive,absorbing all the emotions but that didn't really translate into a good pirouettes turn.I tried,I tried and I tried.Did you ever wake up from your sleep and see that you had lost your voice?You can't speak any more but you had planned to say those really meaningful words to the person who mattered the most to you.Same happened to me when I discovered that I had lost my flair for 'Kathak'.Many of you would actually argue that real talent is never lost.Maybe then it wasn't a real one.But you see,I'm someone who never takes 'no' for an answer.So,I kept fighting back,only to realize that it wasn't meant to be.Have you had one of those relationships where you two loved each other a lot but you knew that being together would do no good to any of you?It'll only make things worse.I've had a beautiful relationship with dance.It supported me when I had nothing-no friend,no one to talk to,no 'boyfriend'...It was the only reason for which I managed to survive almost four years without any so called 'teenager stuff'.But it just had to come to an end.Doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt though.Just like mature couples,even after break up,we continue to be 'just friends'.So,the weekly 'Kathak' class is still on but we both know that we've run the course of our relationship.Feel free to go ahead and judge me,call me a 'maniac',call me 'mentally imbalanced',I couldn't care less.I know what my problem is and I'm not looking for a counseling session here.I love reading and shopping too and only 'love' would probably underestimate my love for these but they were like those one night stands where no feeling was involved,ever.I knew I was going in to have fun and I DID have fun.They were mere hobbies for me.They made me happy but without them,I wasn't lost.They didn't have the power to turn my life upside down,make my pillow soggy for weeks...The only hope that keeps me going?I'm so not done with it!Maybe some day,we'll be able to keep our differences at bay and try to stay together,the passion burnt out but the friendship still there.So,I won't think twice before joining again after winter but I just keep getting older and older...If only I could pause the clock and say,'Hey,I've other things to do now.Don't start until I come back to finish this unfinished business.'...Life's cruel.It never listens to you.It puts you into most difficult situations and expects you to come out of it,unscathed.Until then,what you left behind,will just be 'unfinished'.And maybe that's why you crave it so much.Because none of the features will stay with you for long,beauty fades,trends change,'good' becomes 'okay','evil' becomes 'fearless' but 'unfinished' only remains 'unfinished'.Time can't play its cruel game on something that's unfinished.There's just no way it could be made more ugly or anything.It'll always be 'just unfinished'.

Do you have one of those days when you run out of inspirations or you're just lazy?Nothing appeals to you,nothing gets you charged up and all you want to do is curl up in your bed,eat cookies and read mushy novels?Well,happens to me all the time!Those're the days I take my black stuff out.As you should know by now(if you read my last post,that is),I'm not very fond of black but I still can't deny that it's one of the safest colors around.You just can't go wrong with it.White fits the same bill too and I love white like anything but my fellow travelers seem to have developed a common hatred for my spotlessly clean white shirts,tanks,tees and tunics.Every day I wear white,either a 'mashi' decides to get hold of my white sleeve with her 'ghugni smeared' hands to balance herself or a mother in her twenties puts her one year old kid (with oiled hair) on my lap with such nonchalance as if it's my moral obligation to carry them.Now,I'm not too fond of kids but I don't mind a few minutes' company.But why do they have to oil their hair if they weren't supposed to wash their hair that very day?And why do they have to rub their head against my chest when all I'm trying is to avoid any contact with their oiled hair at any cost?Drives me crazy!So,as much as I love white,it has its own disadvantages.But black doesn't even have that!I can happily engage myself into free social service without my 'good deed' leaving a mark on my clothes!You see,I'm a person who doesn't like endorsing herself.So,I go out there,help my fellow passengers in every possible way and forget all about it immediately.A reminder to tell the story to everyone under the sun is the last thing I'd want.Black helps this selfless nature of mine.It has only one requirement.I need to shampoo my hair before wearing black,just to make sure that no dandruff shows up on my collar.Trust me,it looks way worse than the anti-dandruff shampoo ads! 

Today were one of those days.I woke up at 1 p.m.Had a lazy breakfast.Opened my wardrobe but couldn't decide what to wear.Whites and nudes looked too boring,yellows and pinks looked too loud,blues and grays looked too predictable.So,I decided to play it safe with all black with a pop of orange.I was supposed to help Anirban choose a tie and the free tips earned me a mango stick.With a little help from Tanvii,we DID find a tie but not the exact one I had in mind.Never knew 'Allen Solly','Blackberry','Park Avenue','Zodiac','Shoppers Stop' and 'Raymonds' DO NOT HAVE TIES WITH NICE BLUE STRIPES.If you're in my facebook friend list,you should know that I've been missing flavored yogurts for a while.So,I just had to have this awesome chaat today.Next time I have it,I'll take a picture of the chaat for you guys too.

I hate such days when I've to wear black pumps just because I can't find anything better...

I've always believed that fashion is an extension to one's personality.It says a word or two about the kind of person you're,your likes and dislikes,hopes and desire,insecurities and joys.That's why I've never worn something I'm not comfortable with.Maxis are HOT this season,so are wide-legged pants.But I don't have any of them in my wardrobe.So,when I get up in the morning and get dressed,you can be sure of one fact-every piece of clothing or accessory on my body is so ME! And I love them to death.I'll do whatever it takes to keep them intact.But there're exceptions-some days when I get up and slip into something that I might not hate but I don't entirely like either.I try to look confident as if this is the best look I could have styled for today and I'm totally satisfied with the way it has turned out.But deep inside,my confidence lessens with every passing minute and after a few hours or so,I just want someone to rip that 'thing' off me because I'm better off without it.One such 'thing' is a pair of black pumps.Yes,back in my teenage,I've been obsessed with everything black-LBDs,black blazers,black vintage handbags,black chiffon saris(I still haven't totally got over it.:P)and so on.But lately,I dread anything black,specially anything black near my feet.But there're days when you just can't help it because black is safe and better go boring than bad,right?On such days,I wish I were Sonu or Jasleen or Tanvii or Karishma or Smrithi or Kavya,blessed with such fabulous wardrobes that you never,never run out of options!I had this Infosys seminar in college today which required me to wear formals.It was gonna be a sweaty affair,with almost 500 students packed in a 120-seater auditorium,with almost no AC on for hours.One of my favorite White shirts has been spoiled lately.I didn't want to spoil another one.So,I decided to wear this peach over-sized shirt with a slightly androgynous twist.Now,I'm not really fond of this shirt and I've worn it rarely.And whenever I've worn it,I've teamed it up with shorts and maybe a boyfriend blazer.The word 'strictly formals' in the notice from Training and Placement cell made sure that I keep my experiments at bay. So,I had to wear them tucked in,with my all purpose black trousers.Now I wanted to add a pop of color with a bright blue sling or a pair of blue pumps. But turns out I had bought the blue pumps way too long back and they don't exist any more.Then I raided my closet and found out that I don't have a blue bag at all!Then I thought of adding a little Indianness with my mojris or kolhapuris.I didn't want to wear the yellow kolhapuri,the brown-orange-blue one had to let go of its sole at that very moment,when I was about to clean it a little.The mojri just didn't go with that shirt.I was supposed to get out of my place within 7:30 and it was already 7:45!So,I was left with no other option but the boring black pumps!Aaaaaaaarghhhhhh!!!!!!!

White shirt-Pantaloons,Orange bag-in front of Hogg Market,Gladiators-Emami,Black trousers-Talking threads,Metro Plaza.

So,just to prove to myself that I still am better dressed than the local fish woman,I decided to post this picture.The orange tote is a new buy,about a month old.The gladiators are old and it was probably the last time I was wearing them.But they were my favorites for a long time.So,how about paying a tribute to them with one last shot?These pictures were taken on 15th August and I really wanted to add an Independence day flavor with a happy green watch but I'm yet to buy one and all these raining and my crazy schedule aren't making it any easier.

Missing is an alternate for lame tear jerker posts...

She stirred in a little lime pickle.She has never been a lime pickle fan.She found it a little bitter.Her mother used to give her this snack every evening back home.She used to mix mustard oil,pulse crackers,chopped onions,tomatoes and green chillies with the puffed rice and finally added a spoonful of lime pickle to 'enhance the flavor'.She had no way but to eat it.Then she used to go and have two,sometimes three breath mints to shoo the bad breath away so that he wouldn't get it the next day,when they kiss.She used to hate her mom like anything back then.Why did she always have to put onions in everything?Puffed rice,egg curry,masoor dal,chicken curry,fish curry,noodles...Every bloody thing would stink of onions!Good that she could convince her not to add garlic.She said it made her cheeks feel all hot and flushed.But why the hell did onion have to be so good for health?She was always looking for an excuse to ask her not to put onions but never found any.Now,when she's far from home,she misses the bad breath.She chops onions for herself to put into everything.She doesn't have to worry about the bad breath anymore.She's done with men.She has got rid of them for once and for all.Whatever she does these days,she does it for herself.Odd thing about onions?The tears take her back to old days.She thinks what her mother might be doing now.Making tea?Reading newspapers?Maybe missing her a little?Nope,no chance.She has given her mother nothing to miss her for.Maybe she's actually relieved that she's gone.Maybe it has put an end to all her troubles-worrying for her when she gets drunk with friends and returns home late or when she goes through a terrible break up and shouts on phone everyday?The glances she'd draw from the neighbors wearing that low neck top?Maybe it has put an end to the constant orders she was used to.'Get me my Mechanics book,will you?','Good heavens!This one's Fluid Mechanics,I told you to get Thermodynamics!Can't you read?What do you have those freaking glasses for?'...

Her mother used to oil her hair and tie it into a braid every night.It was one of a kind.She has never seen anything like this again.She used cheap silk ribbons and cotton ones to kind of fold the hair in between.She said that it prevented split ends.Every friend of hers had laughed at her at some point of time,thanks to this unique hairstyle.She had never protested back,just got angrier with her mother.How she wishes now that she learned it then!Her mother was right.It does offer protection against split ends.She has to go to her hairstylist a lot these days.Or maybe that has nothing to do with the braid,it's just her lifestyle-stress,lack of sleep,eating disorders...Funny thing about nostalgia-makes you believe things you'd have never believed otherwise.

Those days are gone...

I hate those days when I'm lost for words,whatever I try to write feels too light.And I can't decide what I should start my post with.Anyway,this post was supposed to be published last night but due to connection problems,I couldn't post it last night in spite of trying for a goddamned five hours(Don't worry,I was trying AND watching 'Eat Pray Love' simultaneously!So,maybe I'm not as dedicated as you think.)!Yesterday was 'Rakhi'(or 'Raksha Bandhan' if 'Rakhi' is too bong for you)and I owe my baby brother an apology.Yeah,I DID wish him but I'm the big sister,I'm supposed to do all that and more,no? I couldn't meet him,I couldn't even buy a 'rakhi' for him! 'I was busy' just doesn't sound fair enough. He's my only brother and though we don't get to see each other any more(sometimes even less than once in a year),I love him like anything!We've had such special moments over the years!He used to come to our place once in a year.I looked forward to that day for the rest of the year.He was never the caring brother other girls might've been blessed with.He was like a cat,an expert in absorbing all the affection from you and never really giving anything back.He would lie down on my lap,make me read bengali stories to him.I used to dote on him,feeding him home-made potato chips and messing with his hair.He was the only younger sibling I had.When one of his pranks went wrong,I always took the blame on myself.I wasn't really the luckiest kid around.I had nothing of my own back in my childhood.I was just really grateful that he was only mine.He was 'my brother'.I used to cry for almost an hour after he was gone,trying to remember the smell of his hair when we hugged because that was the only thing that'd help me wait for one more year.Once I was playing with a cheap beaded necklace and accidentally one of the beads got stuck inside my nose(Funny story-I don't remember how it landed up anywhere near my nose at all!).I was shit scared,but still didn't want to visit a doctor because of the injections(Yeah,I'm still afraid of them).He's the first person I wrote to after I had the bead taken out.Of course,I got to know later that he couldn't read then(I was four or five,how do you expect my baby brother to read?).But 'sejomama'(my maternal uncle and his dad)had assured me later that he had read it to him but he didn't really react(Quite obvious,no?).He hated dressing up like girls and still his mom made him pose as one of those hill girls plucking tea leaves in a costume party.He looked adorable,if you ask me.But he was so mad because I had appreciated those pictures by mistake!We were closer than ever back then.Then,gradually,he grew up,grew beards,started wearing shirts,got a mobile phone of his own,got over my bengali stories and became a man.How amazing it is!Watching someone younger than you grow up!Then he went to Xaviers'(FIY,I didn't make it to Xaviers' and I couldn't be more proud!).But you know what the irony is?I got to see him more when he used to stay at Jamshedpur or Ghatshila than I get to see him now!I sometimes feel that maybe I should try a little harder and go to movies or lunch with him once in a while but that's life!You never get to do what you want(or should,for that matter).Make no mistake,I still miss him,a lot.I just don't get a chance to prove to him how much I love him!When he asked for his 'rakhi' yesterday,I told him that he'd get it as a Christmas gift.So,till then,this is my gift to him,a post exclusively dedicated to him.God bless you,my li'l bro.You've grown up to be the most perfect brother I could've ever had.I wish we spent more time doing typical brother-sister stuff but it's never too late,right?And you better work a lot on those muscles,I'm not getting any lighter and since you're my 'only' brother,if,some day(may be when I'm well above 35 or 40),I decide to get married,you're the one who'll have to carry me all the way to the wedding stage('chhadnatala',isn't it?).And please buy a nice gift for me when I finally give you the 'rakhi' treat(We'll go to Peter cat or Silver chimney,allright?).All those who say that love is all you need to gift your sister,are seriously disturbed.Don't listen to all these bullshit.And please get a new haircut too.I'm sick of this one!:P

All the characters are strictly fictitious

'I should've never lied in the first place.',she thought.She's been having illusions all week-sometimes she feels that he has come back,sometimes she sees him dead,sometimes she sees him turning into a corpse and dragging her to death too.She's sick.She needs help.She knows that.But it's just such a personal story that she doesn't feel like sharing with anyone!What if they don't understand?What if they blame him?Life goes on as usual.She goes to school,takes down notes,mugs them up,listens to John Mayer on her way home,waves to the other people,buys a bagel from the local bakery,finishes it in exactly twelve minutes,checks for bad breath,does her home works,sits in front of the TV,finishes her dinner but she never sleeps.She sticks to her routine religiously because she's afraid that it's the only thing to fight the loneliness and more importantly,the chill she feels all the time,and then the numbness,as if her heart has stopped beating.She keeps convincing herself that she's alive.But then she can't forgive herself for being alive.She has no right to be alive.She led him on,lied to him,made him fall in love with her and then left him to die.And all the while,she thought she was doing the right thing.Sometimes,she whispers to him in bed,'I don't deserve you.You were a fool for not getting it.And I lied to you,A LOT!Would you like to hear the truth?Let's see if you can still love me.',she challenges him.But that's the time his face starts to fade away.She feels so guilty!She owed it to him-the truth.He should've known that she was living a lie.She washes her hands everyday but she can still smell blood.The stench just never goes away.Death is like a tiger,looking for a prey and it never leaves until it gets what it wants.People try to escape but it's only a matter of time before it finds them.People just don't understand that it's much easier if they just give in.All the warm up makes it just a little more cruel.

Effing with a capital 'F'!

There’re bad days and then there’re days like these!

10:15 a.m.-Have to wake up, thanks to the helpful ant who took refuge in my bed sheet last night when I was having cookies for dinner and never left. He felt that it was his responsibility to stop me from bunking college. And I might add that his way of bringing me back to my senses was pretty rude.

10:40 a.m.-Get ‘ready’ to face the water-logged streets I’ve to brave to reach college. Pack my Data Interpretation papers in so that I can drop by my friend’s place to practice them after college.

10:45 a.m.-Someone informs me that the form I was supposed to submit for not doing the soft skills training from college isn’t what we had expected it to be. It’s practically my professional death certificate signed by me and my parents. Had an argument with mom regarding this since she always wanted me not to declare a war against college and go along with whatever I’m told. Rushed out of home in a bad mood.

12:30 p.m.-Reached college after a lot of difficulties(It usually takes me one hour but thanks to the rain and traffic, I reached so late). Found out that there was a blackout and the generator wasn’t working. Also, I needed my guardian’s signature to submit the form. Called my father and asked him to come down there. And trust me when I say that he WAS NOT happy!d

2:10 p.m.-He reaches college, gives me a piece of his mind, meets a registrar-cum-chemistry teacher-cum-sales executive who, very convincingly talks my father into the training ‘explaining’ why I need to go through this bullshit and how it’ll help me in every step of my ‘career’ in future and how they only have my best interests at heart! Amazing, no? The multi-tasking people!

2:15 p.m.-Get into a bus amidst heavy downpours. The bus gets stuck near airport for wait-for-it, forty minutes and then again, for an hour near the terminal! The whole journey was supposed to be of one hour, you might remember. And did I tell you the breakfast story? We ran out of cereals which I discovered this morning. The bananas weren’t my type and the jam looked so yucky! So, two pieces of stale bread were the only thing I had for my breakfast(and it was the only thing I was to be content with till 5:30 p.m.,as you'll later find out).

4:00 p.m.-With the rain showing no chances of slowing down, and the people inside the bus increasing exponentially, we requested the ones sitting near the windows to open the them since it was getting really stuffy inside. Of course they weren't ready to get wet. After a few minutes, I had difficulties breathing. The body odor of so many people around and a few middle aged men trying to dry hump me weren't helping at all! I threw up on the road once, got down from the bus and started walking. As far as I could see,there were cars and buses and trucks and bikes stuck. I tried walking down the pavement which was practically nothing but a mud slush by then. And that's when a bike lost its balance and banged right opposite me. I was about to skid but since the bike was the only thing near me,I didn't fall on the mud, I rather fell on the bike. My shoulders and legs still hurt, thanks for asking. Needless to say, I couldn't reach my friend's place and it took me forty more minutes to reach home only. My D.I papers were all soggy for no reason.

5:15 p.m.-After 'discussing' with other 'responsible' people around, my parents decided to enroll my name for the damned training though I've already missed more than fifteen classes and won't be able to attend even a single class from now on too. Icing on the cake,right? So, let me just sum up the whole situation for you-I was determined not to let college talk me into a shit training that I don't need at all just so they can make a profit.At the end of the day, I'm the poor little loser who lost her battle, had to enroll anyway and pay the same amount therefore and still ending up missing half the classes. I almost had an accident and threw up once. I had a fight with my mom. My D.I papers're so soggy that I won't be able to solve them later also as I can barely read the digits! I had a bad hair day and my internet connection was down till 1 a.m. Does it get any better than that?

Shorts-New Market,Beige shrug-Metro Plaza,White tank-Westside,Pink pumps-Shreeram Arcade

P.S.After such a day,do you really blame me for taking out the happy pink pumps and clicking myself in my shabby room?

DOWN THE MEMORY LANES-I

“Do you remember the day, Miranda?” Do you remember me?
I used to walk down the road, with a faded backpack, worn-out slippers and ALL the acne scars in the world. I was one of those many girls who used to walk past your house, always hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You were super busy, pampered, only child. Girls were your hobby, like rowing. And you never touched anything that you had used before. You were easily bored. You wanted new hobbies every other day.

But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

I wasn't pretty, I never topped in my class, my parents never gave me fancy things like yours, I used to take the bus to reach school. You, or precisely men like you, were off limits for me.

But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.


Remember the day I cried in front of you, for the first time? Not that I had never cried before, I just had never felt that helpless before. I couldn't feel my senses, I was numb. But still, my cheeks felt flushed. I was humiliated, embarrassed, angry with myself. I wanted the earth to part, I just wanted to disappear anyhow. But I knew, it was my last chance and I had to try my best. I did, to be honest. I just didn't know that you had already taken your decision. 'I'm sorry re, there's nothing I can do about it. Trust me, if there were any other way, I'd have done it. It just wasn't meant to be.'-Your parting words had meant so much to me! It felt so real! I just didn't know that it felt so convincing because you had the scene acted out in your head a thousand times. You just didn't care. I didn't have anything new to offer to you.

 But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

Remember your mom? She was the center of  your world, or so you made me believe. I still don't know why she hated me so much. Maybe because she knew that I was too honest. Maybe because she knew that I was ready to go to any extent for you. Maybe she was afraid that one day, you might have to choose between the two of us. She should've talked to you first. That would've spared her many a sleepless nights. How proud she'd have been of you! Because you never planned to choose. You were just playing.

 But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

Remember Princep Ghat? Remember the way you used to play with my hair? Remember the way you used to whisper my name between those shy kisses? Remember you promised to write a song for me someday? Guess so many girls were already in the queue, so, my turn hasn't come yet. As a matter-of-fact, you never lied to me. You always told me when you 'didn't feel like talking to me' or 'had a good time' with someone else or were 'lost for a reason to keep this relationship going.' I sometimes wonder if you did that purposely to hurt me or because you were really honest. I don't know what your obsession was with my tears. You just never seemed to have enough of them. What makes you think that you deserved it? You were just another Engineer, studying in a very ordinary college, you were anything but good-looking, you weren't into books, you had two left feet, you stammered when you were nervous, your dressing sense was worse than Sunny Deol but still I loved you and many more girls did. I don't know why. Maybe it had something to do with your rustic charm and 'tough guy' attitude. Girls just love falling for badasses! And as far as I'm concerned, I toh always have had a thing for people who were bad influence in my life. But I don't blame you. You never made any promises, let alone breaking them! I just was too expectant. When I finally realized that you were like north wind and you'll never be able to stick to one girl, it was too late. I just wonder sometimes, do you remember me at all? Do you remember our evenings? Do you remember our escapades? Do you remember those moments in the backseat of the cabs? Do you remember that I curl my fingers in my sleep? Do you remember that my throat becomes dry whenever I've a nightmare? Or was I 'just another fling' for you? I'll never know.

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE

I've had a love-hate relationship with the sun all right but all these raining is making me kind of sad.I've already started missing the bright,sunny days.I've almost forgotten how it feels to walk at a speed more than two meters per minute and still not get splattered with a mud pack!So,thought would share some old,'sunny' pictures.

AHOY,MEN,STILL REMEMBER MY PROMISE,DO YOU REMEMBER YOURS?

I’ve been getting complaints from various sources that my blog is too ‘girlie’ and most of the time, I talk about nothing more than my nail paints. So, this post is dedicated to all those who wanted this space to be more manly, all those who used the feminine side of my blog to skip reading and still claim to be my friend, all those who turned up in college wearing floaters and sweat pants or something equally disastrous. I know very little about male fashion apart from Rajesh Pratap Singh, Raghavendra Rathore  and Sharbari Datta. So, I’m freaking nervous. As this is a start, I’m not gonna get overambitious. I’d rather keep things simple and basic. The problem with men is that whenever they’ve a hard time acquiring a skill, they term it as ‘girlie’ or ‘stupid’. I had friends in school who used to smoke more than ten cigarettes on the night before exam because they had to ‘study’. I always told them that we girls’re studying the same syllabus and we’ll be getting the same question paper. There’ll be no reservations(or ‘quotas’ if you please) for us. If we can study without getting high on nicotine, so can you. You just chose not to. Then there’re those men treating the streets like the public urinal. I always asked them that if women can control their urge to urinate any time, any where, why can’t they? There’s probably no special technique involved with the structure of female bladder. Then there’re moms who teach their baby boys to remove their shirts and trousers as soon as they reach a relative’s place and wear a pair of shorts that’ll serve as both the underwear and the shorts(and it’s a habit those ‘baby boys’ will adhere to even after they’re grown up). The same moms will slap their daughters if they want to wear a bikini because being a ‘girl’, you should always be ‘covered’. Ironic, isn’t it? Ditto goes with fashion. Most of the men don’t understand fashion. What the heck? They haven’t discovered shoes yet, let alone dressing sense! And as usual, just because they don’t understand it, it’s not art, it’s ‘a wastage of money’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘girlie’! Anyway, my point here isn’t picking up a fight with men(though I know I’m really good at that), I’m here to give tips to men on how to be presentable. Can you imagine? My grandfather’d have been so proud of me! LOL!

Anyway, let’s come to the point.

#1)WHITE SHIRT-This is something I swear by. I kinda have a thing for men’s white shirts. And that’s probably one of the secret reasons of my current relationship status(It’s single, if you’re that curious). Waking up the morning after sex, slipping into your boyfriend’s oversized white shirt and YOUR boxers, making tea and having breakfast in bed…Ooh, these’re the stuff my dreams’re made of. Get one with no prints, no patterns, no stripes. Simple white, as clutter-free as it gets.You got a crisp white shirt, you got a Soumi in your pants, dude! :P

#2)Khaki shorts-For those who’re a little surprised if I got the ordering right or not, I’m perfectly fine. I’m as much a fan of Khaki shorts as I’m of White shirts. They both’re comfortable, classic and super stylish. But unlike the shirts,I think I’d like to wear my own shorts only, not my boyfriend’s. I’m not really a fan of the very short ones. Get a mid-length one, with pockets. You can either wear it with your easy breezy White shirt, tucked in or polo necked tees. But please try to keep prints as far as possible.

#3)Suit up-Yes, I’m a big fan of Barney Stinson(and his suits) and I’d have probably lost my virginity to Neal Patrick Harris had he not been gay.*Sigh*

Coming back to suits, get as many as you can. Black and white is the classic combo. But you could also try blue and white, white and purple, steel grey and white and what not.This is one area where nothing but floral prints can go wrong. And DON’T FORGET THE TIE.

#4)No smelly undies-Bad news, boys. As much as you love wearing the same undies for weeks and make your dorm rooms a safe(and stinky) place just with the help of the smelly socks and undies, it won’t help you get lucky anywhere else. Clean up! Get a pedicure, use moisturizer, wash your hair and wash your undies too! It’s so damn disgusting, trust me! And try colors other than powder blue, red or yellow ochre while buying them. Seriously, are you people color-blind?

#5)Wear shoes-Lemme teach you something, boys. Whoever taught you that shoes were discovered to cover your feet, was a liar. Most of you people assumed that if you’d cover your feet with newspapers or rags, you’d be wearing shoes. There’s actually something called Leather which is super sexy and lends its name to shiny shoes. You need money to buy them and then you bring them home and WEAR them! As simple as that!

With that, I hope I’ll get to see better dressed men in college when our campus interviews start next month. Rumor has it that the dates’ll be somewhere around 12^th Sept. So, readers, please don’t judge me if I’m not able to post regularly. It’s not that I don’t miss you, I just can’t do anything about it. Love.

                                                                                 Soumi.

BAN THE BANNERS,OR NOT?

The breaking news these days? Kolkata’s gonna be hoarding-free! No ugly hoardings raising its head between lovebirds near Dhakuria Lake or Beleghata Lake, no sari ads distracting my super boring dad on his way to work, no finger lickin’ good chicken wings to make my ‘friend on a strict diet’ feel bad… I guess I might be risking quite a few followers(not that I have many)when I say this out loud-I don’t think I hate hoardings that much. You see, I’ve never really seen a hoarding free Kolkata. They say it’s more beautiful that way but doesn’t the beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder? Kolkata is beautiful to me for its scenic beauty and for the lack of it. I love Kolkata for the dust-a-thon near Shyambazaar five point crossing, for the fish smell behind New Market, for the water logged roads near Hazra, for the very considerate crow near Vivekananda Road crossing who decides to poop on my hands instead of my hair because I was on my way to somewhere other than home and I couldn’t shampoo my hair in the coming ten minutes or so but I had enough water to wash my hands. So, Kolkata’s beauty, for me is incomplete without those ugly hoardings. I think Kolkata, without them, won’t really be the Kolkata I’ve known. It’ll just be another perfect and posh city I’ll think twice before getting out in. I happen to share a personal relationship with hoardings. There’ve been instances when I learnt the spelling of a word from one of the hoardings or spent a good twenty minutes reading the hoardings when my bus was stuck at a busy crossing and there was no PYT to envy or no hunk to check out nearby. I used to go to school on my dad’s bike when I was a kid and he made me read out all the hoardings to him and I used to get free chocolates if I made no mistakes. I also remember a tuition near Tala tank which was a maze in itself for my ten years old brain. I had to walk down two typical north Kolkata lanes with a minimum of fifteen turns with identical old fashioned houses with identical saris hanging from the roofs. It started around eight in the morning. So,my dad used to be already out for office. My mom had Arthritis and couldn’t get out of home. So, I had to go alone though I used to have friends on my way back. I was lost many a times. But I always found my way, thanks to a hoarding explaining why we should use only Cookme ground spices(‘Cookme guro masala’ for all you bongs) in our curries. I came to know about my first audition from a roadside hoarding. I often come to know about sales, new restaurants, exhibitions, crafts fairs and the premiere dates of certain TV shows from hoardings, even now! I’m all for turning Kolkata into London(as our Chief Minister has promised)but is it such a bad idea to leave certain parts of Kolkata the way they’re so that some other ten years old doesn’t get lost on her way to tuition?