Bleurgh.

Again it comes. Again. 

The dissatisfaction and the dilemmas. The grappling with my sense of morality and justice.

I'm so sick and tired of what goes on around me. Sometimes I think we're doomed, we're ALL doomed, and that there's no point in any work, in any effort, in any social campaign. For the most part, I'm banging my head against a wall, screaming at people on the other side to listen.

People are so goddamn apathetic, so lazy and so bloody unprofessional. Social change is something that's optional, something that is expected to automatically come while they sit pretty, complaining about how this country is headed downhill, the ironic part being that they won't lift a finger to do anything. 

Either that or they're pretentious, acting like they own the whole world and can therefore be flippant about other people's feelings.

Well, let me tell you people something. Everything you do comes back to you, so go ahead, put up Facebook notes and pat each other on the back for being able to read into something that wasn't meant for you in the first place. It'll all come back to bite you and then we'll see, yeah?

And feelings, feelings that I thought would never go away, but they have - and I'm not sure whether to feel happy or sad, or even disappointed. 

The evenings are so nice and breezy, but somehow I never get to enjoy them. Life seems to have overpowered me with all its demands and responsibilities, and I have the vague feeling I'm not doing well enough, or going fast enough. I need a break, I need to STOP! for a while, just sit and catch my breath, but there isn't even time for that.

Being Responsible And Level-Headed Is Such A Pain...

...Because sometimes you just don't get to do the things you really want to do. You don't get to let your hair down, and have some totally spontaneous, free-spirited fun, not worrying about the consequences. Because that is what I do, I worry about the consequences of my actions, and what will happen later, and so I inevitably pass up tempting times when I could possibly have been crazily irresponsible with a devil-may-care attitude. I could make a career out of sticking to my deadlines, of following the rules and sticking to the straight and narrow.

My best friend keeps asking me why and how I am so 'together' - I don't know why I am, really. Maybe it's a defence mechanism, maybe I just don't want to lose control, maybe I am scared of what will happen if I do. I have made it a habit to be balanced, to be mature and responsible, and to stick by my values, but sometimes, honestly - I wonder what would happen if I just got rid of all those notions, even if temporarily.

And now, when I have fever and am feeling unwell, I can't even curl up under my quilt and shut out the world, I have to make myself hot cups of tea to ease my sore throat, keep track of my temperature, and then go pick up Ma from the airport. Because there are chores to be done, articles to be written, and work to be done, and of course - being an adult is so much fun, with all its responsibility and requirements of keeping a straight head on your shoulders.

This post makes no sense, probably - but I have fever and I think allowances may be made for that. Blah to you.

Angst. And Some Mild Rage.

I'm sick and tired of all this. I don't know how exactly to explain it, and I'm not even sure that I want to - I've always been a fiercely private person, never wearing my heart on my sleeve. And perhaps that's the problem. That my emotions are private. Certain people sometimes think I'm too private, that it's not normal to be so. And then, invariably, they  automatically perceive me as indifferent or heartless, when all I'm really trying to do is keep my emotions to myself and just carry on with life.

Which is better? Is it better to parade your happiness, your sadness, your ecstasy, and your heartbreak out there, for the world to see, laugh at, and talk about? Or is it more sensible to be the oyster-like person that I am, coming out only if necessary and to select people, and therefore berated for supposedly being socially dysfunctional?

Sometimes, I couldn't care less. When something's not meant to work, it isn't meant to work - and that's really all there is to it. All the meaningful discussions and promises-to-do-better couldn't make a difference. And certain people should really learn to move on. I'm not saying it's easy for everyone, but we all go through our share of trauma and unhappiness - God knows I've been through my share, so do you blame me for using an unemotional front as a defence mechanism?

Rant.

I've always promised myself that I would never turn this blog into a rant-space, that I would never make public my deepest feelings and acknowledge the pain and turmoil within me. But this is one of those times, when I just need to get it all out, when I need a catharsis of sorts. Sometimes, a rant is needed, to clear the head, to get my feelings in order. So here goes the public, probably even undignified display of emotion.

You. I hate you, and despise you from my very core. I'm sorry I ever got to know you. You're the biggest piece of scum I've ever interacted with, I'm past the point of even feeling sorry for you. Fuck you, seriously.
You. You two-faced little thing. You look so harmless, but now I know better. What are you getting out of this? And why are you playing the double agent? I know what you're after - don't you realise it's never going to happen? You're deluding yourself if you think it's possible - grow up, wake up and smell the coffee.
You. I don't know what to do with you, really. I don't know how to handle myself, I don't know whether things are going right or whether things have always been wrong, from the very beginning. This isn't good for me, and I need to get out. But why is that so horribly hard for me to do?
You. I feel like you are the one true constant in my life, you're the one person I can be myself around - myself with all my quirks, randomness, whiny-ness, and bitchiness. What we've shared together - do most people get that? People change, therefore - relationships, too, must change. With us, I just don't know anymore. And the strange thing is, something tells me you feel the same way as I do.
You. You're the best friend I could ask for. You listen to all my complaints, put up with all my moods, and bear with me patiently through all my confusion. I love you, sometimes I don't know what I would do without you. Thank you for always being there.

Edward Munch's painting is so, so appropriate right now. I need to scream and scream, yell till my mouth is sore, shout till my lungs are tired, I want to wail at what's going wrong. But I know that's not possible, so I shall settle for being brave, and putting up a mature, unemotional, and unaffected front. For isn't that what I always do?

What Should I Say...

...To someone who can stoop so low? To someone whom I thought was mature? You proved me wrong by falling to such a ridiculous level.

I know we've had our problems, I know we didn't part on good terms - but come on, really, this? Are we 4 year old kids now?

You and I messed up things pretty badly, and maybe people think I was the one to blame, that it was all my fault. The truth is, very few actually ask for my side of the story, no one really knows what I went through, with you. And I like it that way, I'm not a particularly open person so I prefer being the oyster that no one can open. If people think I'm the heartless bitch that screwed you up, fine - I'm not going to go around bleating our troubles to change their opinions. But you made things incredibly hard for me, made things more complicated than they already were.

We had our problems, yes, and things didn't end well. But I thought even you were beyond this level.

But you know what? You have just proved yourself a rather disgusting person, by doing this. And my side of the story can die with me, for all I care. You're not even worth this blogpost, you juvenile piece of dirt, but I'm writing it anyway, just to get it out of my system.

I'm cutting you out of me - absolutely and totally. Have a nice life.

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?

Thoughts On A Sunday Night.

Before, Sundays were always a lazy day for me. I used to spend them doing nothing at all - perhaps a bit of music, a few pages of a book, but mostly just lazing around. Right now, I can't remember the last lazy Sunday I spent. There's just so much stuff to do - so much work, so much reading to catch up on... Today, I spent the morning cleaning out my study-table, and I will get to my cupboards next Sunday. I like cleaning stuff. Yes yes, you may say I have OCD, but I feel so much better when things are clean and properly settled.

I am really looking forward to next semester, in spite of the fact that we have 4 Honours papers to get through. ADG will be coordinating the Detailed Study of a Shakespeare Play course, so woohoo. Tintin-da will be coordinating Modernism, and I am also taking Popular and Genre Fiction in the 19th Century, which promises to be really interesting. (Anything that has Dracula and Through The Looking Glass in the syllabus will be great!) Then there's Modernist Prose, I really like Shantanu-da's teaching, so that, too, should be good. Yes, next semester will be difficult, but it also sounds really appealing, and I plan to pay a lot more attention to academics this time.

(Yes, you can laugh now.)

Moving on...

I went shopping last week, bought lots of random stuff - pasta, mushrooms, Iced Tea powder... This week, I shall go shopping again, to buy a couple of notebooks and a few pens, and of course - anything else that captures my fancy. I fear I am turning into a shopaholic. Very soon, I shall be broke. *sigh*

Sometimes, I feel insecure about myself. I wish I were artistically gifted. I wish I could paint wonderful pictures, or take amazing photographs. I wish I were musically gifted - I've always wanted to learn the violin, I tried, but I have no musical talent whatsoever. Sometimes, I feel hopelessly inadequate, but Obelix just jumped onto my lap, and I'm instantly feeling much better. I'm reminded of how lucky I am, that I am fortunate to have a great life, interesting work, a lovely family, fantastic friends, and as for gifts - well, I can wiggle my ears. How many people can do that?

Need Every Post Necessarily Be Titled?

I am feeling ridiculously sick. My throat is sore, my head aches, and I have a cold that refuses to go away. I have a feeling fever might be on its way now. I'm no hypochondriac, I don't generally talk about ill-health, but right now, I feel so ill I want to stay in bed all day.

It's raining outside, and the sound of the raindrops falling is strangely soothing. I'd like to go for a walk, but of course that's out of the question. I'm craving Hot and Sour Soup right now. And Pan Fried Momos. And perhaps some Chocolate Cake, fresh out of the oven.

I want to go shopping. For random stuff. For spiral-bound notebooks, for pens that write in purple and green, for photo-frames. I want to see my friends, I want to talk random rubbish and laugh till my sides hurt.

I want to see my brother. I want to buy that MAD magazine Collector's Edition I saw at Starmark on Friday. I want to paint my nails pink.

I want entirely too much right now. And I don't like being ill. Damn it.

P.S. - I'm sick, so please ignore the rather bad writing.

Of Curses And Cold Coffee.

I think there might be some curse over my head. Or maybe some evil spirit floating around. No, I'm not going all weirdly religious or Tantric, but strange things have been happening. First came that whole burglar-bomb incident on Friday night, which was too traumatic - I don't want to go into that again. If that wasn't enough, the next evening, there was another bomb discovered, right in front of of the house opposite us. Enter the Police and the 'Bomb Squad' again, who ran a metal detector over it, frowned at the rather worrisome beeps, and then packed it up and drove away. How much must we deal with? And I always thought my locality was such a quiet, harmless one.

Then, today, I walked out of my house and was halfway to the auto stand before I realised I had forgotten to take my purse! Big deal, you think, sometimes everyone forgets to take something or the other. But that's the issue. I never forget. At any given point in time, I am always carrying my wallet, my phone, my keys, a notebook and pen, and mint. I always, always leave home with those bare essentials! A slip-up like this isn't a good sign.

Anyway, after I remembered I'd forgotten the purse, I went back and got it. No harm done. But nothing had prepared me for the auto-accident.

That happened near Lake Gardens. The auto-driver rammed head-on into one of those small lorries. (I think a tempo?) The funniest thing was: I was looking ahead, I saw the tempo coming at us, I knew a crash was going to happen, and it all seemed to happen in slow-motion. My mind went absolutely blank, I felt numb. Everything went blank, save for this really surreal feeling. The crash was a pretty bad one - tremendous jerk, a bit of skidding, but no serious injuries, thank God. The shock wasn't easy to deal with. I made my way to college somehow after that, avoiding the crowds that gathered. Right now, I'm thanking my stars we didn't crash into something bigger, like a bus or maybe an actual lorry. If that were the case, I'd actually be dead now, or seriously injured, God forbid.

Like I said, maybe there's some curse on me. Or maybe it's just a bad time. Life does happen in phases. There are good moments, and bad moments.

But ah well. There are things that make up for the bombs and the accident. The good, or dare I say, great moments. Like Cold Coffee and extra sachets of sugar. Like lots of shopping and chitchat. Like gifting a dokra fish to my mother. Sometimes, life's really worth living, and all the auto accidents and bombs in the world can't change that.

Screw the politicians and the police force. Give us security in our own homes!

We can deal with power-cuts. But dacoits in the middle of a power-cut are a different ball game altogether. We simply cannot deal with this rather deadly combination. On Friday night (24th April) two dacoits jumped onto the asbestos roof above our house gate, disappeared into the darkness.(This in New Alipore, which is supposedly ‘a safe area’.)

Meanwhile, all the locality people were standing around watching, occasionally shouting “There he goes! Catch him!” Two traffic guards who happened to be on the scene kept crying “Come down, otherwise we’ll shoot your legs!” We’d locked all our doors and our gates, were peering out of the windows into the darkness, we were afraid they were hiding in our backyard – it may all sound overly dramatic to you, but just take a moment to think about it. What would you have felt, in such a situation? Yes, you’d have been as scared as I was.

And our police force? Well, they took their own sweet time coming, of course. We understand. It must be rather hard to leave the comfort of the muri-aloo chop in their office. They arrived after half an hour, poked around half-heartedly at the remnants of the bombs the robbers had let off. We kept telling them to go into our neighbouring apartment building and check the flats, because we were afraid that the robbers might have hidden there, or worse still – taken someone hostage there.

Our pot-belled police force stood around for some time, basked in the glory of the chaos and the confusion, shouted gruff instructions at each other, and then left, supposedly to get ‘reinforcements’. Reinforcements consisted of two men, who checked our backyard, and looked at the bag of bombs the robbers had left on the road. After a couple of hours, when things had settled down somewhat, we heard shouts from a house behind us – apparently the thieves had been caught.

Now this incident raises a lot of questions.

Firstly, where was our locality Councillor, and why was he not answering his phone? When he called his brother, he said they were busy with Mamata. VIPs indeed. Who have risen far above the votes that we gave them, who have forgotten the fact that they are in power precisely because WE gave them power!

Secondly, why did the power take so long to come back? We called CESC, who asked us to call Lalbazaar, who in turn said that the fault lay with CPI(M). And frantic calls to the New Alipore Police Station went in vain. Also, the ‘Bomb Squad’ looked rather scared at the bag of bombs lying on the pavement in front of our house.

Thirdly, a reputed regional channel showed the news on their scroll. The headline, “In the middle of a power-cut, our efficient police force caught some dacoits.” I’m a Literature student, so I understand how words can be twisted, but wow- these people take it to a whole different level! Also, the channel in question is pro-CPI(M), and right at that moment, they were showing Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee live in their studio. Seems they used this incident for their own political leverage.

Fourthly, I wonder whether the robbers are still in custody. Or have they bribed the policemen, and left? To wreak further havoc? Why can’t we feel safe in our own homes? This is indeed a sad state of affairs. What an inefficient police force we have. Why, if the robbers took to their heels, the police-men wouldn’t even be able to run after them – they’re so notoriously unfit!

Why does everything have to take on a political colour? There are innocent men in our locality, helpless women and children – are we supposed to watch on while robbers throw bombs around and attack the security of our locality? Are we supposed to depend on our politicians and our police-force, while we citizens have to suffer?

A horrible incident indeed. I won’t forget seeing that bomb going off, neither will I forget the sounds of the woman screaming next door. We talk about ‘change’, and ‘political parties working for the good of the country’, and ‘the power of West Bengal’. But does it all mean anything? Does anything really matter when, of all things, we cannot feel safe in our own homes?

Bombay Under Attack.

How many more innocent people have to die before our Government does something? How many more gunshots must we hear before security levels are tightened?

And how many more terrorist attacks must we be subject to before we can finally feel protected?

It's appalling how lax security is- now even the poshest of areas are being targeted. And our Ministers are still talking about "Taking stringent measures" and "Formulating anti-terror policies".

*sigh*

Isn't it time they stopped talking and actually DID something?

Or will they use this incident as an opportunity for mud-slinging?

Where do these terrorists come off killing innocent people in the name of God? How do they have the audacity to target posh hotels, seize police cars, and open gunfire on the public?

It's sad when you can't feel safe in your own country. Sad when not just innocent people are targeted, but the country's economy, tourism and infrastructure as a whole. And it's heartbreaking when we switch off the News and go back to leading our lives.

It's time we woke up and did something. It's time for pro-active measures, and not just talks and speeches.

It's high time this nonsense stopped. It's frustrating, it's cruel, and it's making our country an eyesore on the global scene.

My heart goes out to all those killed/injured/affected in the terror attacks.

Tomorrow.

I need a break. A change of scene.
I need to get out of this city for a while.
I can't wait to get on that plane tomorrow, and fly straight off to Delhi.

The Rant.

Life is messed up.
Relationships are fucked up.
Does anything ever really last?
Maybe all that's there of life is this huge black hole that swallows us all up in the end.
What I need to do is just fade away into the obscurest parts of obscurity, so that nothing and no one can ever affect me again.

Distance.

I miss him. I really do.
*sigh*
How long till I get to see him? Almost a year.
*another sigh*

To someone who probably won't even read this.

I knew people would talk. I expected them to. I even knew what they'd say. It's in human nature to gossip, after all, to sit down and talk about the latest scandal.

But never in my wildest dreams did I think you would be one of them, and say those things. How could you even think that way about me? You call yourself my friend? You don't know me at all, if you think I'm capable of such things.

It's strange how quickly friendships can end. You haven't made me cry, you haven't offended me, I'm beyond all that- but you are no longer my friend.

P.S. - Next time, have the guts to say it to my face, and not sneak around behind my back, badmouthing me.

Note: This you is definitely not the same person as the one mentioned in one of the previous posts, titled "You". They're as different as chalk and cheese. And I couldn't be more grateful for that.

Just To Clear The Air.

I have never felt the need to make all aspects of my life public, neither have I ever considered it necessary to blog about every single feeling about every event and happening in life. I am a private person, opening up only to a few. That’s why my blog is titled ‘Irrelevant Banter’- so I can talk about random irrelevant things, without having to go into the deeper aspects. Yes, I do talk about deep stuff once in a while, but when that happens, you’ll notice that I skim over the surface, talking about it in such an impersonal way that no one can really guess what my true feelings are. As I said, I’m a private person, and I usually like to keep it that way.

However, taking into account certain circumstances, I have decided to break one of my own rules and be a little more personal, and talk about a certain event that has taken place. I wasn’t going to blog about it in the first place, but as I said, I am taking into account certain circumstances.Well, then, here goes.

S and I have broken up, after being with each other for a little more than 2 years. We ended it last Monday. For many of you, this will come as a shock, considering that we have always had a very stable, secure relationship- and everyone thought we’d be the couple to ‘make it’. If it helps, we thought so too. But you know, things change. And people change. And so do situations.

And when that happens, you just have to accept it and move on.

It wasn’t easy, making the decision. But it was necessary. And now that we have broken up, I feel much happier, much lighter. Yes, I am miserable at losing him, of course- he came into my life a little over 2 years ago and made it a much happier one.

But I am not heartbroken. Certainly not. Because we are still very good friends, we ended everything on very amicable terms, and we look back on our relationship with good memories. In the long run, I think that’s more sensible than dragging out a bond that is slowly ceasing to exist, and then looking back with regret and sorrow.

Our friends are shocked, of course. They find it hard to believe. It’s sweet, in a way, to know that everyone had such faith in us. It’s also a little sad to realize that in some way, we have broken that faith. But thank you for the concern. It means a lot to us. S and I have both received a lot of support, from friends who have known us separately and as a couple, and it has helped us get through things.

Little Boxes, thank you for your blogpost. It was amazingly sweet, a very nice gesture, and I know it came from the heart. But please realize that the inevitable has happened, and chances are- we will not be getting back together. And also realize that that’s okay. It’s probably the better thing to do.

I have been very personal in this post, and revealed a lot more than I usually do, but of course I shall not reveal the details as to why we broke up. Suffice to say we had good reason, and that it has been the healthy decision.

Yes, I was in a bad state last week, but I am through the worst now. You see, once you get through the initial bumps and the initial depression, you see the truth- that this was a prudent and sensible judgment.

There are many who might feel that this was the wrong decision to make, that when you have a bond such as ours you don’t break it. There are many who want us back together immediately. One of my friends actually said, “This can’t be true. It’s like believing in something, and then finding out it doesn’t exist. Don’t take away the hope.” As I said, I’m touched. But I hope you will realize that things don’t always work out the way you want. On the other hand, sometimes they do.

I’ve been told that love doesn’t need to be limited by the boundaries of a relationship. And it’s surprising how true that is. Because even though my steady relationship with S is over, I still love him, and a part of me always will. Breaking up will never come in between that.

I’ve been miserable, yes. I’ve cried, yes. I’ve had sudden bouts of depression, yes. But I’m better now. I’m feeling happier. I’m not disillusioned with love, I’m not bitter, and I’m certainly not full of spite or negative emotion.

Because we’ve done the healthy thing.So thank you, everyone, for the support and the concern, it’s good to know we have friends who care about us so much. But this post was needed, to clear the air, to bring to the surface the fact that I'm dealing with it.
Like The Beatles said, “You have to admit it’s getting better. It’s getting better all the time.”

Waking Up.

The transition from Dream-World to Reality is so annoying. It brings with it a horrible sense of disillusionment and shattered hopes.

I felt that the Dream was REAL, somehow. I had a sense that that was the Reality. And then I woke up. To find out it wasn't true at all. To find the real Reality staring at me in the face. And in that bitter morning light, I shed a few bitter tears.

For losing the Dream that had seemed like Reality for a few minutes.

An Interesting Tag.

Ten things you wish you could say to people right now (Don't take names):
1. Why are you so pretentious? That fake accent, the pseudo smartness- you make my hands itch to slap you.
2. My life has changed so much since I met you. You've made me a better person. Thank you for everything.
3. It's unbelievable how you've come up in the world. Who would have thought it possible? You deserve every bit of the recognition you're getting now. I'm very proud of you.
4. Are you on drugs? Why do you have such erratic behaviour? You have become very pretentious lately.
5. I wish I could tell you, but I just can't. Damn circumstances coming in between, you see.
6. You have really grown up. You've become a man, in the true sense of the word. Good going!
7. I feel like you're always there with me. Never leave my side. I don't know what I'd do without you.
8. Learn to pick up your phone once in a while! (I'm sure most people will guess who THIS is for!) *wink*
9. You're really pretty nice, but your need for constant attention is a little irritating.
10. Hang in there. Things will get better. They always do.
Nine things about yourself:
1. I am very very random, and can say the most irrelevant things.
2. I am obsessive. And finicky.
3. I tend to bottle things up when I'm upset. And sometimes, I can lose my temper very badly.
4. I can be extremely rude and sarcastic if I feel like it. Otherwise, I'm a pretty nice person.
5. I love my cats, and I coochie-coo over them. It sometimes freaks out other people.
6. I make great chocolate cakes. And great omelettes.
7. I never step out of the house without wearing earrings. I feel incomplete without them.
8. I can't stand hypocrites, and double-faced people.
9. I am scared of heights. And lizards. And flying cockroaches. And of crossing busy roads.
Eight ways to win your heart:
1. Have good manners- open the door for me, pull out a chair for me- I swoon over chivalry.
2. Know stuff- about current affairs, music, books, movies, etc.
3. Have good dress sense.
4. Be kind-hearted. I don't like unpleasant or unkind people.
5. Don't try to be someone you're not, I can't stand fake pretentious people.
6. Stand up for what you believe in. Have a strong character.
7. Be a good friend. A good listener. A good shoulder to cry on.
8. Most importantly, have a sense of humour!
Seven things that cross your mind a lot:
1. I really must start studying!
2. Dammit- so many books lying around waiting to be read. And me with no time.
3. Must start with violin lessons.
4. Did I remember to take the keys?
5. I am broke.
6. Why doesn't someone invent a portable AC that can be attached to the body to make it feel cool?
7. Do I look fat in this?
Six things you wish you never did:
Umm.. I don't think I have any regrets. I wouldn't take anything back, because I learnt something from every bad decision or mistake that I made, or from every wrong path that I mistakenly travelled.
Five turn-offs:
1. Pretentiousness.
2. Hypocrisy.
3. Cruelty.
4. Lying.
5. Bad manners.
Four turn-ons:
1. A good sense of humour. And sarcasm.
2. Intelligence.
3. Quirkiness in some way or the other.
4. Being generally nice, and good-hearted. I'm a sucker for it.
Three things you want to do before you die:
1. Write and publish atleast one book.
2. Give my mother and brother everything they have wanted, if it is in my power to give it.
3. Tour Europe.
Two smileys that describe you:
;) and :)
One confession:
I used to have a huge crush on Nick Carter (of the Backstreet Boys) when I was a kid. Now you can laugh your guts out.

Peer Pressure.

This girl, not in my department, was seen smoking near Milon-da's today. Now one might think, Oh, smoking in JU isn't such a big deal- everyone does it. That's not the point. The point is that this girl always seemed to be so NOT the type. I've seen her hanging around with a group who regularly smoke, and perhaps even smoke 'up', but never once have I seen her with a cigarette in her own hand. Today really opened my eyes.

(I don't have a problem with smoking as such- people are free to screw up their bodies if they wish- it's nothing to do with me. But it was so evident that this girl was doing it just to fit in. Sad. Really sad.)

I've seen girls who seemed oh-so-prim-and-proper in school to become part of 'bad' groups in college, and become complete sluts later. Girls who swore they'd never smoke- they smoke now. Girls who said they didn't believe in multiple boyfriends- that they'd be with one guy for life- to change boyfriends as frequently as they brush their teeth, just because their friends are doing the same. Does the repression just get to them after a while? Do they forget all the promises, good intentions and philosophies that we start life with? Or do they just vanish when they meet the wrong kind of people? Or does the freedom go to their head?

Why do something just to be cool? Why do something just to fit in, just to make sure no-one thinks you're a loser?

I don't get what suddenly happens. Is it an urge to be cool, to be 'in'? A need to follow the group? A sense of obligation towards your peers? I've seen very few people to have a real sense of individuality.

Wow. Peer pressure sure is one nasty thing. It makes you do the most terrible stuff. (I'm not talking about smoking- there are worse things than that.) Terrible stuff - like compromising your principles.

Where Is The Love?

Why is there so much violence in the world? Take a walk near your house, and you'll see seething anger in every second person. Switch on the TV, and chances are you'll see stuff like war scenes, serial killers, fighting, and blood. Where's all this hatred coming from? Call me childish, naive or innocent- but I believe we can work out our differences. Surely we don't need to resort to killing innocent people, planting bombs, and setting off nuclear weapons?

And somehow, the problem with all this violence around us, is that it influences children. They think violence is the answer to everything, the most recent case being the kid in Gurgaon who shot his classmate. One might say the kid needs counselling, another might say the kid is just plain crazy- I think it's the culmination of all the violence in the world- coming to infest a young child's mind, and making him believe that it's something he must aspire to. I mean, I was shocked when I read the papers this morning- to think a child can have so much hatred in him that he could actually shoot another, in cold blood. Either that, or he wasn't fully aware of what he was doing- of the full implication of his action.

Personally, I believe opposites exist in the world. If there's good, there must be bad. But why must it be so, well... in our faces? So all over the place? I don't have a problem with violence onscreen- but it should make sense. Half of the violence onscreen doesn't even fulfil that basic criteria- it's just violence for the sake of it. And yes, every one of us has violence inside us- it's a kind of primal instinct to hurt those who hurt us. Does that mean we should all act on those urges?

It has just become a part of our everyday lives. We're so used to it that we ignore it. Nandigram, the Iraq war, the tension on the Kashmir border- it's all been drilled into us so much that we've become immune. It's accepted as just another part of life. We see it happening all around us, we just look the other way. What's happened to humanity?

Wife-beating, female infanticide (yes, it's violence too), gang crimes, rape- it's everywhere. And the horrible thing is- it's just getting worse. Presidents give orders to drop bombs on a country, do they even spare a thought about the number of lives that will be lost?

Alex DeLarge in ' A Clockwork Orange' was made into a kind of robot- who would feel nauseous in the presence of violence. He didn't know right from wrong- the basic difference, but rather, it was drilled into him, so that his reaction would be automatic. It shouldn't be that way. All of us have the capacity to recognize what's right, what's good. Why not use it, then?

Violence has become the answer to everything. Why?? Why not 'give peace a chance'?

Michael Jackson's 'Heal The World' is a cheesy song, true- but the lyrics have a lot of truth in them.

For those of you who have watched 'Se7en', you'll know the last line, spoken by Morgan Freeman. It's this, "Ernest Hemingway once said, 'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part." Makes a lot of sense, if you think about it.

Aah yes, Hemingway couldn't have been more correct.

(Added five minutes later)

A certain friend of mine says this post is idealistic. Yes, it is. But shouldn't we all be, to a certain extent?