Month: March 2013

Readings in Jan-March 2013

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I was quite down and thus very passive in reading novels and thus read at turtle’s pace and read the following: (the ratings are also mentioned)

  1. The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar wilde (read)(5/5)
  2. The speed of dark by Elizabeth Moon (read)(4/5)
  3. Twitter Diaries by Georgie thompson and imogen (read) (4/5)
  4. The faults in our stars by John Green (read)(6/5)
  5. The Secret diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever (read) (4/5)
  6. Room by Emma Donoghue (read) (3.5/5)
  7. The angel’s game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (read) (6/5)
  8. The Silver Linings playbook (read)(3/5)

The confession of a sitter

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Have you ever been steamed and heated like a chicken about to be served on a platter? Well, if you haven’t, let me narrate the exact details to you.

I go to my university through a van allocated particularly for that purpose and I am the last person to be on the van so I get to sit on the “Hot Seat” also known to the muggles as “the engine seat”.


You can witness all the people in the van, sniggering at me and enjoying my extreme awkwardness at this particular sitting arrangement.


The engine seat after sometime would get really hot! I could actually feel the heat emanating from the seat and soon it was too hot to be bearable. I could almost see in my mind’s eye, my muscles flinching while my leg cells sizzle and I can imagine a legless me, wriggling like a snail and I can’t take it more so I go all crazy!


I seemed like a character right out of an apocalyptic movie and several people came out of their inception like stupor to watch and then continue to drool on whilst sleeping.

Whilst the Freshies (Freshmen) near me, took the cue as if I was Vanessa freaking Hudgen and started chanting like it was a scene of HSM in their ludicrously amusing voices “I am hot”. In their minds, these minions were trying to make me more embarrassed, so they could avenge the shame brought upon them through ragging.

Well I huffed and puffed all I could but, I had no choice but to let my leg sizzle and the pain fizzle.

The next day, I had two choices:

  1. To walk the hall of shame again like a damn wallflower
  2. Change the damn van!

So obviously I took the third choice woke up early, ask my father to drive me to a friend house and grab a better seat to save myself from a sure leg amputation. Next time, I stared down the freshie who had to sit on the engine sit, with the biggest damn sneer ever!!! She never lived to tell the tale really 😀

The not so subtle reverse psychology

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You know how they say, reverse psychology does wonders and all, I am now gonna try it on all of you:


Let’s see now:

how many rebellious soul are out there, in this world?

The uplifting of a charm

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So it all started and typically ended on the same date, but let’s start with the first thing first.

Let me tell you that I’m the least brand conscious person ever on the face of Earth and I guess the fright and challenge for the most advertising companies out there, because its people like us, I am not sure we are the majority or minority yet, who remain unaffected and almost aloof from all those advertisements and marketing campaigns to woo the hearts of the target market.

Well, this one day (fateful or not) I went shopping( a big pain for me really as I don’t like shopping much) with my mom. Now my mom and I like almost opposite prints and clothes and I have to thus convince my mom, sometimes subtly and other wise not so subtly (My tactic is to keep silent and not respond and act as if I am extremely down, which works often) to buy a dress.

This one time we were at a very famous branded shop, and I was acting totally aloof and uninterested while this certain dress caught my eye. Here let me show you:

I don’t know what came over me, but there was this sharp effervescent zing inside me, and I just knew that I had to get this dress immediately. It felt like the balance of this whole universe dependent upon me buying and wearing this dress and that nothing would ever be the same or make sense if I couldn’t buy the dress. I felt this huge pressure inside me, and thus I had no other option but to ask my mom to let me buy it.

The price was a little ridiculous for just a long shirt( albeit a very artistic one at that) and my mom just said “NO”. The pressure was mounting and I could already visualize myself wearing the dress, the cheering from a hypothetical crowd, the runways I would walk on with this dress and how everything will be perfect and how beautiful the dress would make me look. Well, my mom was very adamant that she would never give me the money for this dress and thus I had to ask her to let me buy the dress with my own savings (JUST IMAGINE!!!!) I was lucky that my dad was there with us and he usually humor all my little whims and he let me have the dress.

I was so happy having the dress, and it was like a dream come true kind of situation and I just couldn’t wait to try the dress own.

But imagine my horror, when I at last wore the dress, the charm was GONE! I felt a heavy weight on my heart, and I wonder what made me buy the dress in the first place. How could I have been so ridiculous to buy such an expensive dress. It looked extremely unflattering and stupid on me. The magic that had spell bounded and mesmerized me, was gone, taking with it my hypothetical assumptions of fame as well as a portion of my much protected savings!!!

Has this ever happened to you? That short lived feeling of infatuation that makes one breathless, both when it comes and goes so swiftly.

The self doubting greater self

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Often when people like my posts and stuff, there is a sudden outburst by my more skeptical self, especially created for the purpose of disseminating subtle amount of panic, that it was just a major bout of returning the favour. When people like my stuff after I have already liked theirs, my skeptic self visualizes the situation/people as follows:


While my real self visualizes it as:


So in the aftermath of this greater conflict, I’m often left with something like this:


I hope that there was some more predictable way of settling this debate between my two idle selves because then it becomes quite the food for thought thing and then it is restricted not only to the brain part, but travels all the way to my stomach and then, Well, Let’s not get there because it then goes something like:

The case of dirty dishes

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I grumble a lot about house chores and my mom looks at me with this very stern glance and say “You dislike everyother house chore.” Well mom, here’s for your misconception and cynicism about my not liking house chores because I love: (editted so your eyes won’t bleed)


TO WASH THE DIRTY DISHES For the symbolic freaks, yes it is a way, I am de-cluttering my mind of unwanted thoughts, working my way through things and ideas and often talking to myself while I am performing the chore manually. There is some calming influence of washing dishes upon me, the running cold water and the repetition of the whole process and the perk of occasionally talking to myself, as the running water conceals my voice aptly. So yes, strangely, I find my favourite pastime/chore in washing dishes.

Of identity and Relatedness

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You know how it is, for humans since their very existence, trying to associate or relate to something, to try and reach something that identify or make them stand out in this world of utter chaos. That thing for me, always have been : READING taa-daa! I said it!

Well since my very childhood, I have been very much into reading stories, and I was most impressed by the stories of the Kings and how they would set difficult and impossible tasks and often the reward to successfully accomplish them would be the fair Princess marriage to any man fearless and bold enough! Mostly it would be this way that a very poor guy would come and do the brave deed, and get married to the fair princess!!! (how tame of the princess to marry like that, on Daddy’s order 😛 )

But stories helped me escape into a world, where I forgot my problems and worries and for once, everything would be about someone other than me, a world where anything could happen, in minutes and hours things would change ; for better or for worse! You know how it is when you discover the power of words and often words become the very essence of your existence! How they become your identity, how overwhelmed a person becomes when he is unable to let out his thoughts and that writer’s block is so killing!