Fear of the crash…

I’m living in a perpetual fear of the ‘crash’. Last time my comp crashed, it took it 2 months and a few thousand bucks to come back to the ‘alive, but barely’ state. And just 10 minutes back, when it just blacked-out again, I almost cried. And very strangely, the first thought that came to my mind was, (no, not the pending assignment) “How will I complete my NaBlo challenge now!” Yep, in all honesty, I’m trying my best to see, at least THIS time, the challenge through.

Funny thing, the second thought that came to my mind was, (again, not of the pending assignment!) “I should plant a tree.” As weirdly plain as that. The only plausible explanation of this seriously arbitrary bit of thought is the sapling I saw a half hour back when I went to the classroom for some work. But really, did it impact my sub-conscious so much that during a crunch situation like the one I just faced, it would be the second thought to cross my mind?

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Thanks, but no thanks.

The irony is, you seldom acknowledge and appreciate the people and things that are ALWAYS there for you; it’s those people and things that you don’t expect to happen to you that leave their mark.

The goodness of the constants in your life pales in comparison to the shock/present surprise value of the ‘new’ things.

The  ‘you’re awesome’ from a close friend is just blah; a ‘you’re passable’ from a stranger is the best compliment ever.

How wrong is it, to give in to the temptation of belittling all the genuineness of the known people while lapping up a fake/half-hearted/perhaps true compliment from the stranger? And how easy it is then, to thank these always-have-been-there-and-always-will-be-there people from heart, EVERY SINGLE TIME?

I’m still trying to figure out the answers, ’cause I’m the ‘you’ here.

The Ultimatum.

The thing most heartbreaking is not failures, not separations, nor global warming. It’s watching the most pathetic celluloid adaption of your most beloved books/anime series. Mere (extremely disappointing) reviews of some such movies have affected my ‘impressionable young mind’ indescribably, and have left me heartbroken even when I have not watched these movies myself. How could I, after all, when I am still recuperating from the bad review induced heartbreak? When I’m still nursing my near-fatal injuries inflicted upon by these horrific adaptations, when I’m still trying to soothe my wounded heart and giving it hope in vain? As if the Twilight series wasn’t a kick in my face hard enough, M. Night Fuckin’ Shyamalan comes along and spoils my second most favorite anime series of all times- The Last Airbender. No, I’ve NOT seen it, I’m not reviewing it. I don’t have the heart to. Not after the disastrous casting I came to know of through IMDB. Really? Dev Patel as Zuko? Really?? I can’t go on talking about this could-have-been-as-awesome-if-not-more ‘movie’. Do the world a favor, M. Night Fuckin’ Shyamalan, go die. Slowly and painfully.

I’m without hope these days. I’m distraught. I’m the damsel in severe distress, waiting for my k’night’ in shining armor, aka ‘Inception’ to come along this weekend and save me. But if someone as much as tries making a non-animated Naruto movie AND doesn’t do it justice, don’t think even ‘Inception’ kind of movies can do damage control and then ‘someone’s gonna get a hurt real bad’. You know what, oh M. Night Fuckin’ Shyamalans of the world? Don’t even dare try touching my Naruto-kun.

The Nightmare

I woke up last night. It was pitch black. It was the kind of darkness I’d never experienced before- so complete and so frightening. It was incredible, the way I felt lost in that total darkness. I wanted to look over to my roommates, to see them sleep noiselessly in their own beds, take comfort from that knowledge, and go back to sleep. Yet, it was impossible to do so. There was not a ray of light around. I had no way of being sure if I was in my familiar surroundings anymore, if I was around familiar people anymore. It was scary, it was terribly lonely, and horribly depressing. I wanted to call out to my roommates to make sure they were still there. But it was a silly idea of course. What was I to say, after I woke them up?- “I’m scared”?

I lay down on my bed for a long time, staring at nothingness. It was like being trapped in Tousen’s bankai, only that I could at least hear. I heard myself breathing. But strangely, I heard only me. My roommates sure slept soundly. I felt this sinking feeling growing in my chest.. I was ALONE. I was very positive about the presence of monsters under my bed. I was paralyzed with fear and no matter how badly I wanted to get up and feel my way over to my nearest roommate, I couldn’t move. It was the worst feeling anyone could ever experience. It was the worst feeling ‘I’ had ever experienced. And then suddenly, in some twisted way, I was at peace. I felt that odd calm I’d never felt- life had always had some sound around me. Things and people were always loud, always making noise and never leaving me alone. At that point in time, I perhaps got that one subconscious wish I didn’t know I had made- to be left alone.

I’m yet to wake up.

Aunty mat kaho na! (Don’t call me aunty, you moron!)

Years ago, this line was immortalized by a character (Pooja aunty?) in the baap of all sure-to-make-you-go-brain-dead-if-you-aren’t-already serials ‘Hum Paanch’. It might have sounded funny to so many people out there(including moi, although I hated every minute of the torturous serial type thing(yet never missed an episode)), who had absolutely no idea what Pooja aunty underwent every time those she-devils addressed her ‘aunty’. I feel with her today, after all these years. Because recently there have been more than a few times when I almost uttered this dialogue. Well almost.

 But it seems that being called an ‘aunty’ at 24 by those damn younglings isn’t an isolated case limited to only me. On at least 3 different occasions I have witnessed (and secretly laughed a laugh of relief inside) and/or have been informed in hushed tones by my girls of ‘what happened the other day’. Once, my roommate and I were in the elevator, riding down with a neighbour and her cute little toddler. Since my roommate is more than a couple years older than me, I suspect her maternal instincts arose all of a sudden on spotting the chubby cherub and she started all ‘gaga-googoo’ baby talk thing, complete with facial expressions to boot. All went well till we finally ‘landed’ and the baby’s mum (not using the forbidden ‘a’ word on purpose) asked the teeny tot to say bye to AUNTY. Suffice it to say that my roommate doesn’t socialize with babies any more. My logical explanation that technically she was more than 25 years older to the kid and that technically and relatively entitles her to be the kid’s aunty didn’t go down well with her. Oh well. 

Personally, I don’t react to these things anymore, probably because I’ve overcome the trauma. Yeah, my first tryst with the A-title took place more than 10 years ago, when I was barely a teen. I was passing by a house where youngER kids were playing ball and their ball rolled towards me. “Aunty, please pass the ball”- these were the words that haunted me for 10 years till recently when my friends started being openly addressed as the ‘elderly ladies’ in public. In front of me. Call me a sadist, but I really enjoy observing the girls’ expressions after the bomb has been dropped.

 But somehow, it all makes sense. Remember my post about how every damn thing you do is related to your karma? The whole aunty-mystery can be explained easily by this theory. And, it’s all coming back to me now. See, 4 years ago, we friends (yeah, the same girls who are all ‘aunties’ now) went to this garden restaurant for a treat. That fateful day, we addressed all the waiters there as.. wait for it.. ‘uncle’. I kid you not. It was a deliberate prank, we all enjoyed the waiters’ expressions, especially since most of them were hardly 5 years elder to us then. One of them even complained to his colleague in a most painful tone- “usne mujhe uncle bola! (she called me uncle!)” How had we laughed then. Today, the 1 year old babe in my building is having the last laugh. Hardy har har.

 

A dabeli on the roadside vendor’s place- Rs. 5

Expression on being called aunty by the dabeli seller- Priceless.

 

 

If pictures could kill..

… I’d be dead a 1000 times over by now, courtesy my friends’ photos on FB. I have no idea how someone with a sane mind can not only think of clicking such vague and crappy pictures, but also to add insult to (my) injury, give totally unimaginative and downright drab captions to the same. In one word, these pictures are sheer ‘torture’.

Take for example, a hypothetical situation where an acquaintance of mine has returned from his first foreign vacation. Understandably, he’s ecstatic and wants to proclaim it to the world that ‘Hey! I’ve been abroad too!’. Fine with me. I’m not jealous, I’m going for a ‘foreign trip’ myself soon. And I too will be shouting about it from the rooftops once I return. But at least I’ll spare you guys the agony of having to go through my 60 odd photos, which are either blurred, have the same person posing in the same way and shot from the same angle thrice, or simply provide the information that I was standing under a tree.

Seriously, tell me what’s the point in going to that world famous Bird Park in um.. Hong Kong(?) and NOT taking pictures of the rare birds, and instead, in posing yourself in front of some fountain that has ‘Bird Park’ written somewhere? Pose with the birds you fool, not with the fountain! Did you go all the way to the Bird Park in Hong Kong to get the shot of your ugly mug in front of a fountain? Or, how about a shot that has one dude standing on some road (a real famous one I reckon), hands on hips, in the middle of an ocean of people, with no information whatsoever about where exactly he’s standing. If it were not for the white faces in the crowd, one couldn’t be sure if he took it on some busy junction in his hometown. God.

When you’re visiting these awesome places with beautiful skylines, you obviously give taking their pictures a miss, ‘cause well, you were busy taking pictures of you while sitting in the lounge of the international airport, right? If you’re so obsessed with having your close-up shot in every single of the 1000 photos you’ve clicked on your trip, at least try and make the backgrounds interesting.

Anyway, let’s talk about captions now. How does this sound- ‘Me drinking vodka’, under a silly pic of you drinking from a glass at some random hotel room? Or, ‘X and me’, ‘Y and me’, ‘Z and me’, in a row in the same album, while you’re posing with three different friends sitting at the same spot? Or ‘Friends and I posing on the highway’- under a photo that has, well, you and your friends posing on a highway for some goddamn unknown reason?

Kill me.