You know how when you're walking down the road, and you find a lone slipper/ shoe lying on the side, and you smile that small smile and shake your head wondering how the hell it ever got there? Yeah, well, now I know.

The wonderment is less when you find one in the center of the street, because then it's probably because it fell off someone's foot while they were on a bike or something. And if it's on the side and is accompanied with utensils or clothes, you figure it was probably a part of a get- the- hell- out- of- my- house tantrum. But when it's just sitting there all alone- you're flummoxed.

I won't be anymore.

Mothers ARE a whole different breed. And mine belongs to a whole other different breed. Because not only is she the whole sacrificing, peace making body in the house, great cook, dedicated employee, brilliant teacher, can shout at levels that match my sisters' and more- she happens to be the reason for my enlightenment. For de- flummoxing me. For seeing to it that I shall never be flummoxed by a lone slipper on the road side ever again.

Best part is, it was done so carefully, that I hadn't a hint about what was coming.

It all started when ma needed to get down from the car, and couldn't find anything to go onto her other foot. She tried feeling around for the chappal in the darkness- it had to be somewhere in the car after all- but didn't have much luck. Leading to an extensive search of the car, which also turned out to be in vain. The suggestion that it could have been left at the last stop was met with general laughter and we searched with lesser enthusiasm this time round. Because while inane under normal circumstances, the scenario that had been put forth looked more and more probable. How could we find something that wasn't even there?

And just to make sure that we'd left no stone unturned in our search for the lost chappal, we went back to the possible scene of action. And there it was lying just where we'd parked before, looking all lost. That was IT- when it found the first beam of the car's light- that was when the light dawned on me too. When the blinders were removed. When I realized.

So bothered about not smashing the eggs in her hands, she had been- that while getting into the car (for reasons she refuses to make public) she'd taken off her chappals (again, for reasons she refuses to make public) so that exactly one of them had landed outside the car. Carefully placed the eggs in her lap. Closed the door. *And off we'd driven into the sun set*

That's one of life's so far unanswered questions- well, answered.

May the light always be with you. All my love.

If the following outburst hurts anyone's sentiments, I apologize in advance. Also, granted that the exact opposite may be happening to you in another part of the country or the globe: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR IT ANY WAY, JUST LIKE I DON'T HOLD YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT'S HAPPENING THIS SIDE OF THE WORLD.

This bleddy state and it's people have finally broken me. Actually, why accuse the entire state, let's stick to this godforsaken college, and curse those who are responsible.

Yes, I'm a "north Indian". You guys don't really give a person the choice to be labelled anything else considering everything that is not this state, is North India. Yes, I speak reasonably decent and fluent English. And yes, I do NOT know your language. I cared enough to learn the basics, so that I could TALK to you- NOT because I needed to get work done from you, but because I wanted to TALK to you. Apparently, the same can't be said for you.

I didn't make fun of your customs or your beliefs. People who did make fun of you, who used you in every way they could and all that only because they thought they had the right to, having being born to the "higher strata" of your very religion- are the ones you suck up to. The ones you show your loyalty towards.

Why, I ask myself? And guess what, there's ONLY ONE REASON- because they aren't "north Indians". They speak better English than you too, but hey! they can also bark like the street dog in "your language".

For the first time in my life, I wish I wasn't non judgemental. That I hadn't helped you; that I hadn't cared. That I hadn't tried to understand your culture, like it, enjoy it, embrace it. That I had bullshitted you, the way you dressed, the way you spoke- because apparently, THAT is what you call friendship. Friendship is too strong a word, THAT is how you define humanness.

You bleddy f******.

If you are so worried about losing your language that you find it necessary to make the medium of education in your government intuitions (which are apparently world reputed) not English and if you feel that by talking in English you are in some way still allowing yourself to be ruled by the British (yes, THIS is actually an argument people here use) build a bleddy wall around your state, so that no one who can't speak the language doesn't enter it, in the first place.

The logic apparently is, "you are coming to us, you want us to help you, learn our language, why should we learn yours?" You live in the world you ayyah buggers! You interact with people to not only suit their purposes but yours too! You want to be able to sit in a Harvard with no means of understanding what they have to say to you, or telling them what you think?

YOU are not God's gift to this planet. You are but a mortal, the slime of the earth according to me for thinking the way you do. You have every right to love your religion, your culture, your language- just like I have to mine. You DO NOT have the right to force yours on mine, just like I don't have the right to force mine on yours.

What you did was wrong. Not once did I stop to differentiate between you and me on any grounds. Not once did I believe you would, either. I don't hate easily nor is it easy to get me angry. You angered me so much, I walked myself home in the rain. The way you treated me was wrong. And I hope that some day, you realise it. And will be able to forgive yourself.

And also, I'm not even English!

Jeremiah the bullfrog
Was a good friend of mine
Never understood a single word he said
But I helped him drink his wine
Yes he always had some mighty fine wine

Hello children.

Yes, another template change. And this time it wasn't because I was restless, and the previous one just didn't seem to "fit". This time it was because I was fiddling with some stuff, and lost my customzied template. AND I didn't have a back up on this system. AND the one I did have, kept doing weird stuff.

So, I spent the entire day finding something that DID "fit". Be nice.

Have you watched the new Airtel advert yet?!! It's brilliant. It's bleddy brilliant. And it teaches a valuable lesson- parents need to take time out for their children. No matter the demands of your job, no matter the pressures of "real life". THIS, now, is what you've wanted all your life. THIS, now, is THE DREAM. You're living it. And if you don't realize that you are, and enjoy it, you're just going to be one of those old people who'll have more to regret than be happy about.

In fact, that philosophy holds true for everything. It's just more important when it comes to children. Because, you're affecting more lives than one. You're not only robbing yourself, you're robbing the bundle of joy you prayed for; you live for.

And while the wine he has is absolutely fine, I'm not drunk. And yet, I feel high. Which is surprising considering I've spent the entire weekend moping, for some unknown reason. Whatever it is, I hope it lasts. Don't worry, be happy.

All my love.

I so have a death wish.

First, I get flung off a bus- as***** started moving while I still climbing. Only to be told, that the bus was going to the depot- If it's not on duty, take the bleddy board off!! I almost cracked my wrist. But that's ok. I've cursed him so that his thingy turns green.

Second, on my way back home? The bus I was in got hit by another bus that was trying to over take it- and guess who all the glass fell on? That's right. Yours truly. I just hope I've gotten all of the glass out of my hair- it's almost 9:00 PM and I just found another small shred. I'm scared.

Next, my sister decided to box my nose- and I DIDN'T even do anything today! I swear. She was sleeping when I got home, and THIS when she got up.

And the best part is, the day isn't over yet.

Sigh.

My “little” sister is reading Mills & Boons these days. My little sister. Mills and Boons. *Looks for a wall to hit head on* With all the gross sex- lines and the meaningless banter that the unimaginative characters share. You do share banter don’t you?

I mean it’s almost unlikely that I’ll meet my “prince charming” across the boardroom table, and in that first instance that our eyes meet the room will be charged with sexual tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. How did people come up with this one? Cutting of tension with a knife?!

Now, where was I? Aah, yes. Eyes have met. Him in his immaculately custom made suit, and her in her good- little- secretary clothes. What he read in her gaze was anything but good. Oh it would be good, it just wasn’t the same good that her clothes were supposed to portray. Tempted to ruffle her a little, the cold metallic pen in his hand found it’s way on her bare thigh. Satisfied with the stiffening of her back, he let himself a discrete smug grin and continued playing. Only for it to be wiped out, by the leg making it’s way up his leg under the table.

As soon as the room clears out, they Do It on the table. She doesn’t believe in love, but he knows she’s “the one”. He sticks around and tries to show her in every way possible that it is possible to have it all. He meets with an accident; she realizes how much she does love him. And then they live happily ever after.

Unlikely. In fact, not even remotely possible. But they make for a good read, short and have this feel good factor, considering all of them have happy endings. What will not be any of these things, is something like the following-

Their eyes met across the temple. Shocked by her own daring at having locked eyes with a total stranger, she scurried hurriedly around the temple two more times, begging for forgiveness. On coming out, her first thought was to ditch her footwear, because standing exactly where she’d let her Bata Chappals, was that man.

How could she possibly ignore him? Even bare- chested and in a lungi, he looked absolutely lip smacking. And while the thought itself would have sent her running back inside, the answering heat in his gaze kept her still. Only to be shocked out of the daze by the rain pelting down.

Now that her sari had become transparent and their eyes had met, they just had to get married. And had children immediately- he had after all, seen her breasts! Something even contraception can’t save you from.

Saucy, eh?

*puke*

I’d rather read about some Italian Millionaire, than a long haired- bell bottomed guy. Of visiting Rome, or Venice or The Ritz instead of some village with sprawling fields and no electricity or water or some city in which when you looked down from your pent houses’ window, you could see cows in the middle of the street of (terribly structured sentence, but you get the idea).

I don’t know what kind of an audience they wish to draw, by setting characters in settings, which instead of making you feel all mushy and romantic, make you want to laugh so hard that a little pee comes out.

Though I think I’d rather my little sister read these indianized (Sure, that’s a word) versions.

Disclaimer- The above mentioned situations and characters are TOTALLY fictional and exist only, if they must exist, in the author s imagination and bear no resemblance to any person living or dead.

My hatred and frustration at being in the place that I am in, grows exponentially with each passing day. So much so, that instead of wanting to hit my head on a wall, I now am thrown into fits of laughter that don't stop until every muscle in my body is hurting. THAT's how much crazier I'm getting.

The latest bout of laughter was brought on thanks to excerpt from the newsletter of the Personality Development Association, nothing less, that I came across- which in it's "From TEAM PDA" had this to say :

It conducts yearly festivals like .... and also inter school events to elate the students into eminent personalities through the festival... You get the idea... It has also been bringing out the various hidden beauties of the students in the home magazine "PERSOPLUS" which is considered as the forum for expressing the views of the students.

The end reads- Thus, in this Silver Jubilee year we dedicate ourselves to the worthy ideals of the PDA to the betterment of the students and to make them a shining star in the Indian sky.

Best part is- this is just from the first column on the first page. I have yet to tell you about the Editorial which states, and I quote,

"Persoplus(the name of the magazine), as usual, has been kindling the hidden treasures of the students by inviting them to unlock their views on various current themes."

The pages to come, keep in line with the standard set on this first page- and there's this one article that beats anything you could have ever read in your life- I'm trying to get hold of the soft copy.

Oh and there's more to come. This, even though relates to my department- has absolutely nothing to do with me- (Haven't changed a single letter, by the by)

"Dear Friends,
The Information Technology Association of blah blah blah, the rich & the unique techfest of its kind on the 23rd Feb 2k8. We on behalf of ITA cordially invite you to be a part of blah.

... with its variety of events ranging from technical paper presentation to Programming contests for the technical geeks and from Quizzes to gaming for the Challenge loving ones will surely provide some refreshments fro the grey cells and some weights for your wallet and lots of fun and enjoyments. Just check out into blah on feb 23ed for a one to one fight with the best geeks and the adventurous ones and also challenge the world and prove yourselves through our online events which start as early as the first week of February...

Don't Miss IT! "

DON'T MISS IT.

To our seniors, while cordially (again) inviting them for the Alumini meet, we say (amongst other things), and I quote (again)-

We would like u to relish the moment with your presence.

No one's asking for high funda words. Just correct grammar!! How hard is it to get someone who does know a little more about the language than you do, to proof read what you've written? Guys can be such pains!!

Anyway, that's all from me. Had more to say, but after having had to recall all this, I'm ready to get drunk.

Toodles!

-------------------
The point of this post is NOT to poke fun or sound "holier than thou".

I could put this in my “will and last testament”, to be given to you only when I’m no longer around, and even though I hate to deny it- I have an ulterior motive. As much as I want you to know what you mean to me, I want you to know what you mean to me and reciprocate or at least be glad. Beholden, in a way.

For those of you who don’t know me, cut out the theatrical shocks- this ain’t no courtroom drama. But you know this about me. Probably don’t even hold it against me. And like you’ve told me a hundred times, in some corner of my head, I know it’s ok, that it’s natural. We all do it. Play these games. Somehow, it still feels like cheating. Which is why, I write this here, where you won’t find it- until it is in fact a part of my “will and last testament” to be given to you, when I’m no longer around.

After each conversation that we’ve had in the middle of the night that stretched into the early morning because the darkness was scary; each time that my eye falls on one of the many cards of yours that are pinned on the soft board in my room, I’ve opened up my laptop (alright, alright, dad’s laptop), ready to write just the right thing in just the right words- that conveyed more than I was able to say or show you, how much you mean to me.

Each time I come across one of those photographs of us in school- mischief in our eyes and ready to take on the world. Each time I open up that one message you sent so so very long ago that I’ve saved in my inbox, every time I need something, anything, to keep me going- so much so, that it’s no longer a conscious action. I didn’t want it to sound banal and it couldn’t sound like you were second best to anyone else in my life.

It had to be able to tell you that you’re the voice in my head (One of them) urging me to give in and laugh. To believe, that I am in fact, strong. You listen to my rambling and my lectures and my weird theories with the patience of a saint. You know of almost every thought I’ve thought- the good, the bad and the ugly. And you still (or at least say that you do) like the person that I am. You even let me live the illusion that I am in fact a good person, which, I really am not. And that I am able. And wisdomous (Sure, it’s a word.).

And even though we share the most unconventional best friend bond, what with the different cities and all- you are mine. Best friend. And more. It is you I miss, when I’m at the movies with my friends to throw pop corn at snogging couples- even if you have elevated to that status yourself *gag*. It is you whom I miss, when the monsters of the dark threaten my sanity.

But most of all, it is you whom I miss when I’m happy.

So, even though there’s no way of ever saying this properly- Lord knows I’ve tried- I’ll stick to the simplest, shukriya.

All my love.

I know I keep coming back to this, but it's just because I have no answers. I get the whole "don't trust anyone too much" thing. I even get the "nothing lasts forever". I get that trust/ faith/ love/ blah blah are all just abstract nouns- hell I've told you what I think a million times at least.

So why am I here again? Because while I "knew" these things, "saw" these things, I did really somewhere believe that this couldn't be ALL of it. That if I believed enough, even if somewhere deep down I clung on and kept my dreams, I'd be proven wrong. That somehow, somewhere I'd "see the light". Be enlightened.

And to tell you the actual absolute truth, the whole "love of your life" thing, I really couldn't care less about; the "friends are forever" , through thick and thin and all that- I DID believe in.

Sure, I've had my share of bad luck on the way- but I'd figured that if someone could stand you/ stand with you through the worst parts of your life and still want to be around you, they knew you. And could/ would understand you. Liked you. Would stick around till the end.

It's hard enough to find a person who you weren't worried about showing your true colors to, turns out, even if they stick around after that, it's not forever.

I wonder when IT IS forever? If it ever is, that is.

-----------
Wow. That's a whole lot of "some" s !!!

If engineering degree s took even a day longer than the four years I've been slotted for, I'd commit murder.

These even semesters have to be the worst thing invented since "Bournvita- 5 star flavor"- there's hardly any time, we have to HAVE three labs- which means 3 projects, 3*3 project reviews and 3 records; we also have to have some sort of culturals on every Saturday;, Christmas and New Years holidays have to be compensated for AND there's not many holidays at this time of the year anyway. Add to that- new staff who have NO clue- and this is not me criticising, it's me stating facts- and you've got yourself one helluva ride.

On the CAT frontier- Apparently, I didn't do as bad as I'd thought I'd done in that mock test. Out of the 10,000 people who appeared from all over the country- they ranked only the first 4000 people. I was so worried I wouldn't even make it to that list- it's a good thing I did, cuz else, I'd probably have given up already. I got a 529 all India, and my state rank was 89. So Yay me :D

Nothing much else going on. Or nothing much else I have time to write about. Hope alls good with you guys!!

All my love.