I Will Survive - From The Scribbles Of A Workaholic.

I shall be in Delhi from the 26th to the 30th of November, for Guppy's wedding - and I have a Macbeth exam on 1st December. But I will survive.
I shall miss the Bou-boron and Bou-bhaat because the Macbeth exam is right at that very time. But I will survive.
After our reception party on the 3rd of December, I have a Modernism exam the very next day. But I will survive.
Come on, I've managed much worse than this.
I can get through all of it - studies, work (and there's a lot of it, make no mistake!), and wedding planning, not to forget leisure time.
All I need to do is slog my behind off these next few days, so that I don't sink during the exams. It's going to be tough, but hopefully with less time-wasting and better time-management, I shall get through.
Like I said, I will survive.
It's such lovely weather. Ideal for a steaming cup of sweet milky coffee, a blanket, a good book and a furry cat. Too bad I have articles to write, mails to send, work to supervise, essays to read, and syllabus to complete. But somehow, I quite like being a workaholic. God forbid I should be one of those people who revel in having nothing to do. I have nothing against them! But I don't think I'd be able to live as one. Takes all kinds to make a world, eh?

Whirlwind Of Days.

I can't believe it's already mid-November. Time is flying by so quickly that I feel breathlessly caught up in this whirlwind of days. One assignment after the other, a Term Paper to write, an approaching wedding, my usual work, books to read and movies to watch... It's a wonder I get any time to sleep. I have been told my time management is good - perhaps it is, perhaps it's not. I don't know. All I know is, sometimes I find myself wishing that I could at least enjoy these moments, and feel them, if you know what I mean. But everything is passing by so fast... Ah well - I guess c'est la vie.
On a less philosophical note, I'm glad to note my best friend is blogging again. She's been through a bad patch lately, and I think returning to the Blogosphere will do her some good. Life's always screwed up, it's how we deal with it that defines us as people. She'll get through everything fine, I know it. Besides, what doesn't kill you just makes you stronger, right? Cliche, but true. Hugs to you, Shreya!
Coming back to me, there's a lot of stuff I need to get out of the way. Academic, non-academic, work-related, I could go on and on. For the moment, though, listen to this song: "I'll Be There" - by Escape Club. It's my latest obsession.
And now, to work, to work! Hark, the Term Paper calls!

It's Sometimes Hilarious...

...How funny my line of work can be. I tell you, I meet such characters! People who stand out for their sheer eccentricity, who are so extremely comical that meeting them is an experience in itself! I shall tell you about 3 of the many people I've met, and you can judge for yourself.

Number One: The Shy Interviewee (A Real Pain To Talk To)

Why grant an interview if you're not going to talk? This one lady I interviewed, just refused to open her mouth! Sure, she answered questions, but it's difficult to get material for my copy if she doesn't elaborate, you know? This woman just clammed up and said, "I don't like talking about my achievements!" Well, that's admirable, I suppose, but not when you're giving an interview.

In some context, I asked her her husband's name, to which she dryly replied, "Is that necessary?" Oh come on, why not let me be the judge of that? Plus, if it wasn't necessary, would I really be asking it? (Perhaps she was too shy to say her husband's name aloud, who knows?)

Number Two: The Over-Excited PR Man ("Wow! An interview!")

PR professionals are a dime a dozen in this country, but some really stand out. This particular one I met, while covering a L'oreal parlour and a restaurant (both accounts of which he handled) was just bounding over the place with excitement, at the thought of them being covered in Femina. He didn't stop talking the entire time, I think he asked me a minimum of 7 times whether I wanted tea.

This man was so thrilled, he even suggested I get my hair done at the L'oreal place, to which I said a shocked NO, I didn't let anyone but Asif (Transcend, TollyClub) touch my hair! He seemed disappointed, but just for 2 seconds. Right after that, he asked me if I wanted a manicure. Enough said.

Number Three: The PR Guy Who Gave The Interview On Behalf Of His Client (This one takes the cake!)

Again, a reticent interviewee, who just wouldn't talk even though I knew for a fact that her achievements were many. Her PR guy, on the other hand, more than made up for it. Not only did he tell me about her involvement in some TV programmes and an award she's recently been given, but he even told me her favourite movies, her favourite kind of tea, and the city she'd travelled to last! (To which the interviewee said to him, "Baap re, tumi toh amake besh bhaloi jano, better than I know myself!)

I tell you, it's worth it doing what I do, if not for the exposure, then for meeting these gems!

The WorryWart Speaks.

I have been rather worried lately. Firstly, Ma's not been well. She has a cyst in her back, and has to undergo surgery to get it removed. Plus the surgery's not as minor as we think it is. It involves stitches, anaesthesia, and she probably needs to stay in hospital for a few days. I've never been good with medical stuff, and this is breaking me down even more, but I am staying strong for her sake. Plus, seeing her in pain is NOT my idea of fun. I'm just praying for the surgery to get over quickly, I want her to be her usual perky self again.
Then of course, there is the Macbeth project which is due - which I am not being able to get involved with much, because of Ma not being well. I feel terribly guilty, because the others seem to be doing most of the work. *sigh*
I am also worried because I have been feeling certain stuff lately, and I'm not completely sure what I should do about it. Perhaps I should not do anything at all? And just go along with the flow? But then there are intense moments of happiness, and equally intense moments of sadness which get to me, and I worry about how I shall get through this.
But there are hot baths, cuddly furry cats, text messages, friends and cheese to get me through all the worrying. *grin*

Turning 21. And The Days Surrounding It.

I am now 21. Wrinkle cream, anyone? People keep telling me that I'm young (and no doubt I am), and not to obsess over it so much, but all the same, I can't help feeling a little disappointed that Time is passing me by so quickly. It feels like just yesterday that I was 13! But I guess that's what Time does, it's over before you know it.

But I have turned 21, and I am accepting that some moments are fleeing by altogether too quickly for my liking. The challenge, I guess, lies in living each moment and enjoying everything.

Thank you, Ma, for the beautiful pendant and the earrings - I know I said I didn't want anything, and really, I wouldn't have minded if you'd given me just a hug, but trust you to know how much I adore gold! How many girls get gold and diamonds on their birthday? I'm very lucky and blessed. I love you, thank you so much.

Thank you, Guppy, for the flowers. A fantastic surprise - them landing up at midnight. I'd have loved for you and Divya to be here, but ah well, everything's not possible. But thank you for doing your part to make this birthday special.

Thank you, Buri and Tuki, for being such amazing sisters, and putting up with all my idiotic comments and still giving me such great presents. I know it must have been difficult buying something for me, and I love you both all the more for putting in the effort!

Thank you, Shreya, for giving me so many gifts, I'm really really embarrassed. The bottle of Frooti was a nice touch, and totally unexpected. It's awesome having a friend like you, not just on a birthday, but for all 365 days of the year! *tighthug*

So. I'm 21 now. Woohoo. *feels important*
And as for the days surrounding it... Well, watch this space, I shall write "if and when..."
*wink*

For the moment, look at some pictures.

Prejudice.

I don't usually receive too many phone forwards, but when I do, I like reading through them, and having a good laugh. Yesterday, one was sent to me. A joke. It read:

"A man kicked a mad dog to save a lady. The news the next day read, "Indian saves lady." Man said, "I'm not Indian." The news was updated to read, "Foreigner saves lady." Man said, "I'm Pakistani." The news then read, "Terrorist attacks local dog!"

Needless to say, I was pretty shocked. Have we, as a race, reached such a state where we classify all Muslims as terrorists? Or perhaps all Sardars as stupid? Or even all Marwaris as money-oriented? What place is there for individuality?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those people who take offence at every little thing, I don't shake my head disapprovingly when Indians are made fun of in certain movies. I'll laugh at a Sardar joke, I might even grin if you tell me that Hitler would sneeze with a strong burst of "Aah-aah-Jew!"

But perhaps in our desire for humour, we have all taken it a bit too far? Perhaps now we do not bother to draw a line between humour for the fun of it, and shocking generalisation. What about the Muslim who is not a terrorist, the man who wakes up every day, goes to work, comes back, and spends time with his family? The one who leads a perfectly harmless life, the one who is a respectable law-abiding citizen? Must he go through this torture as well?

This prejudice exists in each and everyone. I'm no hypocrite, I'll admit I have my share of prejudices, but I'll also admit that it's not healthy, that I'm trying to rid myself of them. What's not healthy is clinging on to these meaningless notions of hate for a particular race, or religion, and acting as if they define us.

A few days back, my friends and I were sitting at the canteen, when this one boy in our group started talking about how he hated Marwaris, and how they should all be banned from the face of the earth. Now there was a Marwari boy sitting right there (a really nice person, whom we all like), and he doesn't take offence easily, but he did get a little ruffled. He asked, "Why such strong opinions?" And this Marwari-hater calmly says, "I don't know. I can't explain it. It's anger at its purest."

Anger at its purest?? What on earth does that even mean? Does he think he sounds like some Greek tragic hero? Does he think that we Bengalis are universally loved? Every race, every community, every religion in the world has its share of haters.

It's horrible. The way a person can calmly say that he despises X race or Y religion, and in the same sentence admit that there is no reason. Have we been brought up with all these shortcomings, or do they gradually grow on us as we go along?

This joke in the phone forward was in humour, I get it. I'm not making a mountain of a molehill. But all the same, it's pretty shocking to see that we're living in a world where individuality does not matter anymore, where your character is judged upon your colour, caste, religion, or even sex. I know I'm being idealistic in thinking that we should live in a world where individual characteristics and personality traits matter, but the world is a complicated place, and I guess there's so much to take into account in each case.

But, meanwhile, a slice of blatant discrimination, anyone?

Loss.

Sometimes, I miss you so much it hurts. I retreat to a private little corner of my world, nursing a physical pain that refuses to go away. You have left behind an emptiness, and sometimes I think it strange that a void can hurt so much.

I remember you with photographs and with remembrances of certain incidents, and with scribbled notes in books. I look at the framed pictures of you, and open that Old Spice bottle just to remind myself of the way you used to smell. And I even see you in myself.

But somehow, I still miss you. I wish you were here, and sometimes, I find myself wondering if you are watching over me. If you're not, come here please, I need you. And if you are, stay - don't go just yet. I still need you around. Perhaps I always will.