live writer

I’ve just downloaded Windows Live writer.. and it’s frikking awesome… this is just a tester post, so don’t judge. I’m happy with technology. Woot woot.

revelations

Last Saturday I realised two very pertinent things:

Thing one: On Friday night I went out ‘partying’ with my friend who came down from Dubai. And since I had not gone out for the longest time, I decided to dress up like a girly-girl, high heels et al. My friend and I were accompanied by her brother and his super hot girlfriend who left us feeling frumpy even after half an hour of preening in front of the mirror.
About an hour into the night, my feet hurt and I wanted to get into my pyjamas and sleep, but I sucked it up and I kept at it.

Two hours into the night, we were surrounded by nubile young things wearing short shorts and tops that left little to the imagination. The music was fusion—of some electronic crap and some Bollywood crap. We needed a drink. At the bar, we were shocked to see that the menu said Rs.400 for a pint of beer. Understandably, we decided to leave.

But much to my chagrin, we did not go home. We moved to another bar, which had two sections— a Bollywood section and a Hip Hop section. We chose the latter and entered.

My feet were still killing me and I decided to take my shoes off and keep dancing. In doing so I also became some six inches shorter than the brothers girlfriend, who was still in her stilettos with no complains.
I didn’t feel bad though, looking around the small cramped dingy space, there was no one I even remotely wanted to impress. So off came the shoes, and out came the funky moves.

Then the club closed. But no, we didn’t go home. We went to one of his friend’s hotel room to chill and chat. Which we did for another four hours and finally reached her house (where I was spending the night) at 5:30am. It was only the next morning when I had my first revelation: I looked in the mirror and a racoon stared back at me. A racoon who was too old to party, and couldn’t feel her legs.

Thing Two: When I could feel my legs again, I picked up my stuff and trudged home. I had a shower and made myself presentable again. I had to attend a good friends wedding all the way in the other side of town. Heels on again (I really don’t learn) I made my way to the reception only to realised I did not know a single person there. I know I should have thought about this before, but I assumed that I would meet some mutual ex colleagues and therefore have some people to sit with. I was wrong.

I sat alone on a table for six. Groups at the other tables began to stare. Perhaps I looked like one of those creepy gate-crashers who like to attend weddings. An hour passed and people began to ask if they could borrow the six chairs for their ever-increasing posse.

I watched the couples first dance, I watched groups chatting, I ate alone and I occasionally got a friendly, sympathetic smile. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I made a lame excuse to the wedding couple and left.

In the cab home, I listened to sad songs and cried at my life. It was truly the worst night of my life because I have never ever felt so utterly alone.

This is when the second revelation happened: Even if your best friend in the whole world is getting married, never ever attend a wedding absolutely alone.

dear you

Dear H, I’m not sure why I liked you at all—we were so different. I guess it was because you were so quiet and unassuming, and the dimple didn’t hurt either. You were my first kiss, but not my first love. I should have known better at the time, instead of waiting for you to be the one to break up with me.

Dear L, I remember how much we laughed on the steps to my building. I remember all the crazy things you’d do and how much you made fun of my weirdness. I should have known better—you were a better friend than a boyfriend.

Dear B, I liked you a lot. Too much for my own good I think. And unfortunately, when I do that I stop seeing clearly. I wasted so many tears on you. And looking back now, I realise you are a self-centred, juvenile, nauseating piece of dog crap.
And I really, really, really should have known better.

Dear F, I have only good things to say about you. You truly were my first love. I would have, and still will do anything for you. Sometimes I wonder if we will ever get together again, and then I remember why we broke up in the first place.
I should know better.

Dear A, you were never really a ‘boyfriend’ but I thought I’d add you just to tell you how much I despise you. You have the personality of a slug and the only thing that is remotely attractive about you is your money…Unfortunately I am not materialistic. I did know better.

Dear T, you were everything I have ever wanted. When I looked at you I saw my future and I got lost in it, instead of seriously thinking about the present. It’s because of you that I know what true love feels like. I still miss you even though I wasn’t the one to let you go. It will take some time to forget that feeling I had when you were next to me. I thought it would last forever.

Next time I’ll know better.


Inspired by Alanis Morrisette ‘Unsent’ but not half as well written

(far from) happy ending

This weekend I watched three very different movies about how male protagonist fights for the woman he loves, eventually getting her and living happily ever after. And they all made me sick.

The guy who supposedly adored me for two whole years did not get the girl. He did not even begin to fight for her. He left me instead, hopefully watching these movies wondering why he did not fight in the same way for me. Making me assume that, perhaps, I just wasn’t worth the effort.

Going by the movies I saw— my break up should have hurt me so bad, that I somehow meet the man of my dreams on a bus or in a store (when I least expect it) and we go out and I realise that the break up was the best thing that happened to me, which is when my ex realises what he terrible mistake he has made. Or I make such a huge impression on this dreamy dude who falls completely in love with me and does everything he can to keep us from never leaving each others sight.

I know, I shouldn’t be using Hollywood as my relationship benchmark. I know that the script has to be happy to make a blockbuster—which makes me oftentimes wish I was living in a movie, instead of this crap, lonely reality that I exist in.

God damn it, I want my happy ending.

i'm just bored

Will someone please explain what all the fuss is about? Why is Frieda ‘Ugly’ Pinto getting so many eyeballs when she has nothing special about her? There are thousands of prettier and more attractive Indian women for the world to go ga-ga over— Laxmi Menon would be one on the very top of the list. It’s annoying that she is compared to the likes of Angelina Jolie! I mean seriously, what are these people thinking?

PEOPLE, SERIOUSLY, SHE IS UGLY.

And really, Dev Patel… you could do so much better.

Oh well, maybe she has a beautiful heart.

nadir

Main Entry: na•dir

Pronunciation: \ˈnā-ˌdir, ˈnā-dər\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French, from Arabic naḍhīr opposite. Date: 15th century

1 : the point of the celestial sphere that is directly opposite the zenith and vertically downward from the observer

2 : the lowest point



After two years of being in a happy and wonderful relationship, my world has crumbled down into a pile of nothingness. I feel miserable and sometimes short of breath. I have cried in trains, buses and cabs. Not to mention the office toilet.
I know. Everything is going to be ok. I’m better off this way. He totally isn’t worth this. It’s his loss. I’m a great person who will find someone super. Things happen for a reason.
I know it all.

Whatever. It still hurts like hell.

utopia

Once upon a time there were two things.

One was called Em and the other Reh.

Em and Reh were inseparable, so much so no one could see one thing without the other. They completed each other and even finished each others thoughts. They were the same, yet unknown to them, they were completely different.

Em and Reh lived in a big bubble they blew together when they first met. They thought nothing could go wrong and the world around them was sunny and bright.

Em was always satisfied with whatever it got and was happy in the bubble with Reh. But Reh on the other hand always wanted to grow more popular and have new things like Em.

The older they got the more their personalities differentiated. But because they didn’t want to hurt each other they didn’t say anything.

Em was so caught up in nurturing their Bubble Home, that it never once noticed that Reh was letting other things into her side of the bubble.

One day Em realised their bubble was getting a little too crowded. When asked about it, Reh said that she felt ignored by Em and needed some other company— Reh blamed Em for the crowd gathered in Bubble Home and their estranged relationship.

What hurt Em the most, was that Reh completed a lot of people— it finished everyone’s sentences too. In fact everything Em thought that was special about them— was actually becoming more and more common. Reh refused to believe it was doing anything wrong and because Em and Reh had been together for so long, Em began to justify a lot of what Reh did, even if it began to tear them apart.

Soon Reh was thriving on its own, having separated partially from the Bubble Home. Em struggled to be a part of this new world but really, it couldn’t bring itself to adjust to this new common space.

Reh, wanting the best of both worlds wanted Em to open her side of the Bubble Home to these new found things that Reh kept dragging in. But Em could not and began to build a wall between them. Over which she could hear the constant laughter and merry-making coming from Reh’s side.

Their relationship strained because of Em’s naiveté.
And Reh’s ambition to become bigger and more popular.

The Bubble Home doesn’t exist anymore. Both Em and Reh are living poles apart.

Both dreaming of the bubble that burst a long, long time ago.

Things I have learnt in 2008

I realised that most people take their health for granted, and when you least suspect it something completely unexpected will happen to make you take it seriously.

I discovered that some people are better friends when they don’t work with you. Because when they do you automatically become competition.

I have realised that competition is healthy when there are no feelings or friendship involved.

I’ve realised that family that moves abroad feels the need to justify their decision as best they possibly can, and all one can do is understand that it is nothing personal.

I learned that no matter how much you work for a company, no matter how many accolades you get— if you don’t suck ass… you don’t get ahead.

I have realised that no matter how hard I try, I can never, ever be a suck ass.

I have realised that I work better with a female boss.

I have decided that deep inside me is a loner waiting to burst out… and if I get over my craving for ‘people’ and ‘friends’ I will be positively happy.

I have realised that I need to learn how to pick the right friends.

I believe that having ‘friends’ is not over-rated.

(I realise I am being contradictory.)

I have discovered the meaning of feeling absolutely alone even when you are surrounded by people.

I have resolved to shut negativity out, in whatever form or shape it comes.

I realise that you need a circle of friends outside of work. I also realise I don’t have that.

I realised that I no one in my family has a ‘best friend’.

I have decided that those indeed are over-rated.

I realise I haven’t learned much at all. And I really should stop wasting time making lists like this.

one of those days

Sometimes I reach a point when the ‘creative’ people in my agency make me want to rip out my throbbing eye and shove it up their ass only so I can actually ‘see’ where their ideas come from.

don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?

I have never once denied that I was the jealous type. Sometimes, (practically all the time,) this insane (and mostly unwarranted) jealousy gets the better of me.

Today my boyfriend is going on a lunch date with some girl he met online, a month or so before he met me. Initially, I kind of freaked out a bit (quite a bit—more like a drama queen) but then I told him that I am perfectly ok with it and in a surprisingly mature way, said that he is free to do whatever he wants. Little did I know that he was already on his way to this lunch rendezvous with this mystery chick.

Talking to a close guy friend at work, I asked him (a guy’s perspective) if her name was a ‘hot’ name. He told me that he’s only met one other girl with her name and she was very hot. And so the drama began again.
I went online and Goggled her. I found a semi-informative interview she apparently gave, but I wasn’t sure it was her. So I went on Orkut and snooped into his friend list. I found her, but no information and an illustration where a photograph should be.

Right about then, I started to panic (oh yes, everything before this was normal behaviour, I kid you not.) I tried another social networking site and finally found some useful information—a guy from my office was listed as a mutual friend. Yay.

Casually I asked him if he knows her and he says yes. Then he points to the colleague I have been confiding in, and reveals that he has met her too. Turns out, she is ’the’ one other girl with the same name he has met (annoyingly small world isn’t it?).

Now that it was all in the open, I began to prod him for details. Things like ‘is she prettier than me?’, ‘what does she do?’, ‘what kind of hair does she have?’ He began to tell me what an amazing person she is, so multi-faceted. She listens to metal music, a rare woman indeed. A couple of his friends (her acquaintances too by default) joined in—she paints and DJ’s on the side. She oozes attitude, and that’s so sexy.

The more they spoke of how wonderful she is the more my lunch started to surface. The more I envisioned them having a wonderful time at an intimate café. The more I pictured her hair glistening in the sun (stupid lunch date!). I pictured him smiling, enjoying himself a little too much for my liking.

I found myself consciously trying to not be sick. And seeing as how it’s only 2:45pm, and the lunch date is still on... I’m still working on it.

I am not crazy

As part of my birthday celebrations I have called all my friends to a club. Having a not so great salary, I also decided it would be a buy-your-own-booze thing—which also made it a completely optional thing. So, if the person I called did not want to come and spend their own money, then they didn’t have to because I had my set of good friends who were definitely going to make it a success.

Now, to be very honest I don’t have a whole lot of very good friends. And the handful of them who I really wanted to be there were all I really needed. Except I got a mail from one of the girls saying she was not willing to come because Thursday “wasn’t good” for her. Obviously I was very upset and tried calling her several times to get some clarity on the situation.

She finally called back and said that she couldn’t make it because she was broke, and she didn’t have a present for me— I’ve known her for almost 10 years and that was the excuse she was throwing at me. I choked up; I sputtered an “Ok, fine, if that’s what you think I want you there for.” And I was about to put the phone down when she began to laugh and say she was kidding.

Then she said I was crazy. She said I was overly obsessed and asked if I thought she really wouldn’t come. She said I sounded like a crazy paranoid chick, who was worried about people not coming to her ‘party’ when she was not even paying for people. She said I should stop calling it MY party, because it’s really a bunch of people going out drinking, it just happens to be on my birthday. She said I was stupid to think she wouldn’t come. That she thought I would take as a joke and it was a joke, but it wasn’t my party and I should get that clear in my head, before getting upset about people backing out.

I said I would only be upset if she backed out.

And I cried some more.

I'm not crazy.