My hands shook while holding the sheet. The cap of the pen fell down and I sighed. Suddenly, it felt like my pendrive did not work. One deep breath. And my heart and head (in one of those few moments where they agree on something) said...

"I have put a lot of effort into this, travelled 60 kms for a month to collect information, sat through classes and still made time to study and work and the entire experience has opened up a new world for me. No way in hell am I going to let anybody rip my learning apart in the next 40 minutes!"

I can still hear the audience clapping.

All because I had one hand in my pocket and the other one was showing the peace sign.

And an image of a HUGE yellow smiley. :)

I'm tired of calling it peace because I think it doesn't do justice to what I feel inside. I'm happy. Not the yay-woohoo-jumping-pumping-the-whole-world-knows-it kind of happy. More the I-can't-wipe-the-moronic-smile-off-my-face kind of happy. In the conversations I have in my head, I say it atleast once a day. If I didn't know better, I would have believed that my mind right now is a huge yellow smiley (Power of symbols!). And the best part is that it comes from within. Hence, I will be able to create without.

Let me bask in my sunshine:)

On My Bookshelf...

Landed on my lap, thanks to P. It's funny, well written as it brings out the diversity in culture and makes a good read when you're stuck with theories, critical thought and a dreadful report. Whether you like it or not, the man sure is making India read.

Could relate to all the bits on Chennai and Delhi. The wedding rituals, the preconceived notions... We're one crazy country! :)

Next on the list is Nine Lives by William Dalrymple.

Bubbles of happiness everywhere, peace inside-outside, laughter at 2 in the morning, a phone that beeps because someone in this city is being hospitable, a table that's covered with academic literature, plans to be executed after D-Day, plans being made for life in general...All I need is love, alcohol and good cakes.

In the long run, we maybe dead.. but while we're still alive, we can make the journey worthwhile :)

Someday...

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

Peace :)

"Every time I hold you I begin to understand, that everything about you tells me you're my best friend."

Thank you for a day that reminded me of all that we've been through. Where moments of silence didn't seem odd, the chatty times had substance and we were just buddies to each other.

It was worth all the perfume I still smell of.

It was just like the good old... OLD... times.

“I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.” - Audrey Hepburn.

Hit the nail on the head. *sigh*

Waiting...

Converse. Red and Blue with white laces. Ankle length socks. Mostly white. The road. Grey with potholes. Destination : Unknown.

Two turning points. November 2009. May 2010.

Can hardly wait.

For now, city by the sea. Breathe.

One Of Those Days...

...when the world moves in shades of grey. Dark clouds engulf silver linings. The glass is half empty. And all you want to do is fall deeper into the abyss. Roll. Tumble. Slip. Drown in the deep black hole. Disappear forever.

Does the rest of the world really care? Does anyone miss you or think about you? You become a memory that fades with time. Other people replace you. You might come up in conversation (or gossip) but beyond that, who gives a damn?

While you were around, you were apparently smarter, nicer, prettier, taller, funnier... than most other people. You were the light of almost everybody's life. Then how is it that most other people seemed happier than you could ever imagine to be? They seemed satisfied with what they had while you walked around with this feeling that kept eating you up on the inside. First your stomach, then your heart and soon devoured all of you except the bones.

Ambition. Because nothing is good enough for you. Because you enter the world with a checklist and unless everything matches, you continue to hunt. Because you have an ego so large that you can barely see, feel, think about anything but yourself. YOU.. are the centre of the universe. The others are mere mortals, lesser individuals, bane of the earth. You will show them the way..... But this "dull", "good-for-nothing", "immature", "wasted" bunch seems pleased with the way things are and doesn't want to rise above it all. And you just consume yourself... bit by bit...

But!

There is hope.

Go marry the one you love, bring little replicas of you into the world, laugh, sing, dance, make a million bucks, drive your Mercedes into the garage of your mansion, win award after award, try your best to "succeed" in life. But it means nothing.

Because in the long run, we're all dead.

The Dangling Conversation

It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives

Fits like a glove. Conversation, for me, is as important as compatibility and chemistry. I need to go as far as my sneakers would take me.... and then complete the journey barefoot.

We start with the movie that made zero impact. Inglourious Basterds. Very cheeky, Mr. Tarantino but I love your work! And Christoph Waltz, don't think I want to meet you anywhere... ever... Brilliant movie!

Now coming to my kind of flick. Masala, Hinglish dialogues, music I can hum along with, familiar faces and a story that's been told a million times. Except in Ayan Mukerji's directorial debut, it's turned into a refreshing, fun filled, youthful affair. Something I could connect with. No melodrama, no unnecessary scenes, no songs out of the blue. Just a simple story that touched the heart.

Why?

I find myself having the "conversation" everyday.

Yesterday, something made sense.

That little house with crazy colours doesn't seem like such a distant dream. The insane ideas and the random thoughts will find a place. The quirks too. My Rubberband notebook has pages to be filled. Two years is what I give myself.

And sometimes being held is just a sign of friendship. Nothing more. But nothing less too.

In this mind of mine, a small alarm clock says that it is time to wake up.

At The Movies

Watched it today. Though I laughed out (very) loud in the theatre, I can't seem to remember a thing. Just one of those flicks for the oh-I'm-so-bored-and-don't-know-what-to-do times.

Gerard Butler, I'm sorry but you fail to stir anything in me.

Waiting for Wake Up Sid...