tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-135930652024-03-14T03:52:45.575+05:30Quest for ThoughtReading between the lines.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.comBlogger296125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-90283842709710427442013-09-11T09:33:00.001+05:302013-09-11T09:33:28.318+05:30I don't like blue ink!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'Droid Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">My latest craze for hummus only matches my love for Ethiopian food. I think. I love the curries that the food is made in! I can never sleep well after all the eating I do, but I crave for it once every week st the least.</span><br />
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Made excuses to not be happy today too. Sitting in the park and reading was definitely more important than the gym, because who knows when the weather will go bad? Thought shut being happy and chirpy when Abhi called, but just couldn't because the network kept acting up and the call dropped after each hello and what-were-you-saying. Tossed and turned between acknowledging the situation we are in and pretending that this was all normal and we were both okay.</div>
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I have realized that work wise I can on.y be happy when I sm bush, being challenged and my efforts re being acknowledged by all people involved. When these three don't align rven work fails to completely occupy my day and provide the satisfaction that I am dependent on it for. To grow I have realized I need to be less emtotional, but I am not sure of how to balance this ith actually being r,optional enough to work sound the clock because I "care".</div>
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It's weird how I have ever felt the pressure of my social likability since I was in college until now. Aren't we supposed to grow more self-assured wirh each passing day? There was a phase when I had just started blogging and I really wanted comments. I would check every 5 minutes to see if someone had reade what I had written, I had to update my Facebook status only if something would be guaranteed at least 4 comments and 5 likes. Somewhere along the line I grew up, got bored of Facebook, and started writing awkward posts that I knew would get no comments. However off late I seek the likability again. I wonder if I should put wedding photos on Facebook to seek the wows. Is that only because of the effort that went into the wedding? I do not like questioning myself on the amount i do care about such things or should care.</div>
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But at least I am writing today. Small wins?</div>
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Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-14494992690961173942013-09-06T16:33:00.002+05:302013-09-06T16:33:59.940+05:30Am I a snob or just a subject of bad customer service?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Incidents over the last few weeks has lead me to introspect. Introspection has lead to unraveling a number of facets of "the new me". One of which is this.<br />
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The new job entails travel every week, and that has been the story for the last year now. While I love the travel, I realize how reliant I am on airline personnel, hotel management and car companies on my "happiness" when travelling.<br />
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I must admit that all this travel as in some parts made me a snob. I know expect to be seated in nothing less than Economy Comfort seating for free, receive the cars that I like whenever possible and be put in rooms that have air conditioning that works and internet works across the room and not just when I sit facing the bathroom in the center of my bed.<br />
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Since I think I'm being snobbish, I sat and forced myself to think objectively. And turns out that even though I am snobbish, I am also reasonable.<br />
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The car industry....<br />
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I have been renting cars with Avis since my 25th birthday, and am a Preferred member. In the last six months I have had 3 flat tires. In all instances, I have been asked to go to the nearest Avis Location & exchange my car. Not once has anyone apologized or offered to SEND a replacement car. Not once has anyone said "Oh we are sorry for your bad experience, let us give you a nicer car." And they charged me for it.<br />
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I rent a car Mon-Thursday every week. I have been for a year now. So I expect that I do not have to wait 30 minutes to get a car at 5 AM, after having taking the red eye. I expect that I am not given cars that have the maintenance light blinking. I expect that I do not have to spend another 45 minutes to get a regular car after that. Maybe I expect too much.<br />
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The airline industry....<br />
I switched from Delta to United when I moved coasts. In the past three months, I have yet to be on United flight that takes off and lands on time. When it takes off, either there is no WiFi (4.5 hours flight), or no entertainment (4.5 hours flight), no blankets and/or snobbish and snooty personnel. When you land you'll be lucky if your baggage made it on the same flight as you. Priority on not.<br />
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My travel time in a week is 1 hr (to airport) + 4.5 hr (flight) + 1.5 hr (mix of all delays) + 1 hr (drive to final destination) = 16 hours in 5 days.<br />
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So yes, I expect that after having frequent flying status I am treated nicely, offered the opportunity to buy WiFi and be allowed to ask for a blanket that I do not have to pay for. Maybe I expect too much.<br />
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The hotel industry....<br />
I must say, most of my stay in the last few months has been with Starwood; and they have lived up to their hospitality. I've had to complaint about the shower/WiFi/etc., but they've responded and understood that I spend more time at the hotel than at home. And have made every effort to make the stay pleasant. Except update their menu. But I'll pick my battles.<br />
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To summarize - not snobbish, but instead reasonable, and therefore a subject to bad customer service.</div>
Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-11601260815428270962013-09-03T03:38:00.002+05:302013-09-03T03:38:40.138+05:30The return of the bitter and the guilty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Abhi has been insisting for a while now that I admit to the truth. I fear that admitting to it might kill me. But at this point not admitting to it is definitely killing me.</div>
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So I'm an effort to get my life back on track, after a weekend of lying in bed and feeling sorry for myself I have decided to admit to a truth every day. And I'm going to start big.</div>
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I think we married too soon. Not exactly what you would like to hear from someone who just celebrated their 3 month wedding anniversary. In two different parts of the world. Or maybe you would if you knew what the last year had looked like.</div>
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<ul>
<li>Abhi's brother in law could have focused on getting their medical tests sooner rather than later had there not been a wedding to stress about.</li>
<li>Had we known about his illness, he could have started medication on time and we would not have spent the first three weeks of our married life at the in-laws place making them feel guilty abut us being there and us well, truthfully speaking, being there. They would not have been relocating at the same time as discovering Abhi's brother in laws disease. Learning the scope of it, the impact to their lives. And would have definitely prevented the selfish selfish selfish feelings that I have felt.</li>
<li>I would not have had to single handedly manage all the wedding preparations had we waited for another year.</li>
<li>The wedding preparations tired me out. They made me hard and practical in an effort to get things done instead of crying about the stress and the work and the travel. It's difficult to be emotional again. As much as I loved getting my way, there were parts where I hated working within the constraints that we had to.</li>
<li>Abhi needing to leave for India, barely 2 months into "living together", has left me out of sorts. I got used to being with someone, then not being with someone, then being with someone and now I have to deal with being alone again. I don't mind it. It takes getting used to for me. And I'm scared if I let myself get used to this, I won't know how to behave when he is back.</li>
<li>If you know me, you know what it takes for me to be okay with being emotional/dependent; in the see saw that has been the last few months, I feel like I have been on a roller coaster.</li>
<li>I'm guilty for feeling the way I do when there is hunger in the world, people fighting diseases and my husband stuck in "the middle of nowhere" (his words).</li>
<li>I do not want to admit to or think about what we need to do if his VISA is rejected. So I worry about and hate about things that are in my control. Like the fact that I will not be able to go to Europe till 2015.</li>
<li>I have been waiting forever to be carefree and careless. I do not understand when or if my time will ever come.</li>
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I am guilty all the time, or angry, or sad, or guilty or angry. All the time.</div>
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I don't know how to fix this. Logically I know, life hasn't ended. I have all my limbs and all my senses and can breathe. So can Abhi. And the rest of my family. We can afford food and shelter about our heads. But I cannot stop being a turmoil of negative emotions.</div>
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I am hoping that admitting to these feelings is the first step towards letting them go.</div>
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Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-39102996987996470032012-07-23T00:25:00.001+05:302012-07-23T00:26:11.565+05:30Two steps forward, one step back.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been almost a year since I left Indian soil. 6 days short to be exact. It isn't new year's eve or any other day that would usually call for recollection of the "days gone by". It's just another Sunday afternoon. Except that it's not!<br />
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I left the first job I started around this time last year & flew out to go back to school. After saving for close to 6 years I was able to gather the guts needed to buy myself a really really expensive "toy"- my mac book! I got MY first apartment, first student-salary. Sat in classrooms to be inspired, a dream that very unusually came true for me. I interviewed for jobs, and was flown across the country (put up at The Hilton on Times Square) to see prospective offices. I got a job three months into the program. Decided to fast track the education and finished grad school in 1 year. Graduated. Did the whole fancy throw cap in the air, wearing a gown thing!</div>
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Moved to San Francisco to see if I could be a city girl. To rewrite some memories and love this city like the way it was meant to be loved. Found my first un-affordable city apartment. To see if I could walk in high heels and not be killed. To see if I could do the whole consultant thing.</div>
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Made some friends, lost others along the way. This is not just another Sunday. It's the Sunday before I start work. It's the Sunday that marks such an eventful year, my mind boggles.</div>
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Do we live in interesting times or what!</div>
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SG.</div>
</div>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com3San Francisco, CA, USA37.7749295 -122.419415537.6745235 -122.577344 37.8753355 -122.261487tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-36466530373318823442011-12-12T10:58:00.003+05:302011-12-13T22:47:58.979+05:30Showdown.If I had to go and count the number of drafts I've crafted in the last couple of months, but not dared to share, you'd believe that I was keeping to my promise of writing daily. Okay, weekly. But I wrote.<br /><br />For a person like me who writes to make sense of the voices in her head, its difficult to write when I'm in the middle of something. I need to be able to detach myself from the situation and be able to write about it.<br /><br />When I came to the states to work and then to study, I wanted to capture everything. All the firsts, all the lasts. But the way this year has shaped up, its been difficult to write. It's been difficult to, in a way, face my thoughts. But with the year ending, I want to. Write it all down. Face all of it. Move on. So I won't start from the start, but from where it's the easiest to start talking again.<br /><br />Going to school (Yes, I call it 'school' too now that I am in amreeka), is a completely different experience here. The campus is sprawling. This being the first time I've stayed away from home, the luxury to go for a walk at any time I please, is awesome!! The yellow lights against a pure limestone landscape are breathtaking. Should you decide to walk past the music school, even in the wee hours of the morning, you'll find yourself wanting to pause and sit - because there'll be that one artist who is still practicing.<br /><br />The one thing that I was really worried about when applying to schools here was that I'd end up having a crush on all my professors. Kinda became a reality :) I came for inspiration, and I found it. One guy, gives out free candy!!<br /><br />There's free movie screenings on campus, basketball and football games, "downtown" to explore, starbucks around every corner, and an awesome recreational sports facility. There's a 13 floor library (no calvin and hobbes though, I checked), a "graduate lounge" where us grad-students can study/sleep, university fight songs to learn, and so much more.<br /><br />It's only December, but I'm already excited for my parents and sister to visit me around graduation in May! More coming up soon.<br /><br />Be good you guys.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-89906809158547946732011-08-02T06:57:00.005+05:302011-08-02T11:03:16.443+05:301st August 2011.I sent it back today. All of it. I gave my Detroit address instead of my actual apartment address because I do not want it shipped back. I hope he doesn't do something like ship it back. <br /><br />The tears will come. They'll come when the sun has set completely and no one can see them. When its just me, in bed. When the reality of a persons absence will hit with full force and knock me over. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I didn't get a chance to try to hold on. For once in my life, I would have tried, and I wasn't given the chance. I don't know why - I wasn't told. Nothing was explained, there were no apologies. Just one single statement of "fact". And the rest of it is left up to me. Assumptions. Presumptions. Whatever will tire you enough to put you to sleep.<br /><br />I miss Novato. I miss the people. They were nice people. Can you believe that talk about "parallel parking" can make you smile and then extremely sad? Parallel parking? Parallel parking! Parallel parking. Proof enough that I am holding it together by a thread, I guess.<br /><br />I think too much. You think you think too much, but don't realize how much until your mom tells you at least TEN times before seeing you off at the airport, to "chill and relax and have fun". That's when you realize how much you think.<br /><br />Watch Friends with Benefits. It's awesome-o. Might make you smile.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-45234913760812245152011-07-31T15:04:00.006+05:302011-07-31T19:57:48.574+05:30Bac on a Mac<div style="text-align: justify;">I promised myself, that the day I bought my macbook, I'd start writing again. Today, is that day. If I were a different person, I'd be ending that last sentencewith exclamation marks, but understated and well moderated individual that I am, I delivered that news with a polite smile and twinkling eyes :)</div><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have wanted to write for a while now, but I kept away from it because I was scared of the words that would eventually tumble out. Inside, I am so angry and so deeply hurt, there are days when I just want to scream. I worried about who will read this, and what they'll think - but the words that have been left unsaid for so long, have echoed inside me, and I am afraid that if I don't let them out, I might break down.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">You might want to stop reading here - this (or maybe the ones that follow - depending on what frame of mind I am in :)) is/are going to be random and personal - all in one!! </div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">New chapter in life is a "go". I landed in the U S of A, again, two days ago. All packed to get started with "school". I ditched a couple of clothes to ensure that I could carry all my pairs of shoes with me. Surprised? You really shouldn't be!</div><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"></div><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><div style="text-align: justify;"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3WMi-1qQdlw/TjVhkXENK2I/AAAAAAAAARI/3dXVkRYnF_E/s320/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-31%2Bat%2B09.32.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 131px; height: 234px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635517786018884450" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My flight was horrible. Amsterdam was fun. My connecting flight was delayed - but that gave me more time to shop in euros for momentos of a place that I hadn't even really visited yet. But the shot glass is so cool. As is the cow egg holder. And the tulips which reminded me of amma so I had to buy!!</div><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"> <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ZtuH68ysrs/TjVkeGJliCI/AAAAAAAAARY/2fMmNSq-Jmk/s320/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-31%2Bat%2B09.31%2B%25232.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 153px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635520976933718050" /> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y7dNu-9bbVA/TjVkebgUtSI/AAAAAAAAARg/tPAzzDnn0w0/s320/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-31%2Bat%2B09.33.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 147px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635520982666229026" /> <div>I miss SFO. I miss the people I got so used to in SFO. This is the first time I'm saying it out loud. People are tied to places now... and that makes their absence even more prominent. The first time I went to Costco - that's the first place I "sight-see d" when I came in February - I drove A & A mad - We just HAD to walk through every aisle since it was my "first time". We had to walk through every aisle on every trip after that too.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I've lost steam. So yes, first post via the new mac :) Hope you guys are staying good!! More soon, more often.</div>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-79603510118290872172011-06-20T22:50:00.003+05:302011-06-20T23:03:34.587+05:30In and Up.<i>I hate this helpless feeling. This horrible horrible feeling that makes you look at the phone every 5 minutes to check if there's a message/email. This terrible feeling when you realize it was the trick of light on the screen of the phone, and not an attempt by someone to get in touch with you.</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>I hate being at the receiving end of silence. I think a million times before reaching out to people, and that makes the responding silence even worse. I hate going over the various things that I could have done wrong, that I could have said wrong. I hate wondering if maybe I've given away too much about myself; if maybe I've expected too much.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>I hate not being able to feel. I hate wanting to feel. I didn't want to want to feel. But you made me want. Now that I do, there's nothing palpable left.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>There's this yawning emptiness that's pulling at my insides, and threatening to swallow me. It's not my fault, and I don't want to believe that it is. This constant sadness is not what I signed up for, and I don't want it. I don't want to feel lonely and disconnected. I don't want to be on the periphery, I want to be the center. I'll be myself by myself, no issues.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Today, I'm giving in. I'm giving up.</i></div>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-10883187190655217192011-06-11T14:41:00.004+05:302011-06-11T18:38:35.122+05:30Normal. Regular.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">They're walking in the rain together- he doesn't let go of her hand even though its becoming difficult to hold on to the umbrella. It's impractical but he hadn't seen her in a week- and the feeling of having her hand in his was nothing compared to the slight inconvenience of getting slightly wet. Normal. Regular.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span">She's standing facing the sea, in the same rain, alone. The rain had felt cold at first - just that first time when it seeps under the layer of cloth, but now she couldn't feel a thing. The distance wasn't easy but on most days just hearing a heartfelt "I miss you" was enough to create the same warmth that his hug did. Today, there were no hugs, no kisses, no emotions. No feeling. There was just distance. Distance. Anger, irritation, distance. A shiver passed through her body as she just stood facing the sea- it had nothing to do with the cold rain. He was being normal. Regular.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span">They reached the end of the road, and she gently pulled her hand out of his. He tried to hold on without seeming too forceful, but she'd already pulled away. He handed her the umbrella. She gave him a light hug, and whispered a sad, "I'm sorry," before walking away. She couldn't be with him, and even though she knew he cared for her, they weren't meant to be together.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">The vibration of her phone pulled her out of her reverie. She uncrossed her arms and pulled it out of her pocket. Uncaring of what the water would do the instrument, she just looked at the number flashing on the screen, too afraid to answer. She didn't want to let him know that she was upset and we would know if she answered. She didn't want to miss the five minutes she would get to talk to him</span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> if she answered. Before she could click "answer", the phone stopped ringing taking the decision out from her hands.</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">He sat down where she'd left him unsure of how he felt. He was sad because he'd gotten used to her and this meant that she wouldn't be around in the same way that she had for so long, but he didn't feel the need to go after her. Surprised at the realization that he REALLY didn't feel the need to go after her, he turned to his right where he could still see her walking away. Could that be right? The retreating figure really didn't urge him into action.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">She saw her walking back alone. The guy who had been walking with her no longer by her side. Her head was down and her shoulders sagged in defeat. It was difficult to tell if she was crying in the rain, but the sadness that her form represented was worse. Her phone vibrated again. A message. Should she read it? What's the worst thing it could say? It was probably a service message anyway. The girl was nearer now, she WAS crying. They were just silent tears that had inadvertently slipped out. Head down, she walked on. Seeing them both together had made her own loneliness</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> feel worse - they'd seemed so "normal" together. Doing stuff "regular" couples do. Maybe things weren't always what they seem. Maybe it wasn't a service message after all.</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">He sat, allowing himself to not feel, as she disappeared into the distance. She walked on, without turning back. She cried for what could-have-been, but also out of the relief from not having to pretend anymore.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: medium; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; ">She read the message. And pressed 1 on her speed dial. On hearing his greeting, she allowed herself a little sigh of relief and replied "Hi handsome. I love you too. But it's not okay that you've been THAT busy."</span></i></span></div><div></div><div></div>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-24424259892128823552011-05-21T21:47:00.004+05:302011-05-22T16:22:33.796+05:30Writing again!There's a weird sense of freedom that comes from knowing I want to write again. Not sure how long this will last - or if I'm really back - or if this post will be longer than just a couple of sentences: but for now its gooood!!<div><br /></div><div>We're only 5 months into this year, and already so much has happened - the next couple of years, if they follow a similar pattern, are sure to make me bald. It's terrifying - the "what ifs". So much so that these days I try to tire my body so much, that I can just crash at the end of the day. The next morning's idle minutes bring on the crazy buggers again. After a point, you take a huge deep breath and say "what will be, will be".<div><br /></div><div>Om?</div><div><br /></div><div>Om Shanti Om?</div><div><br /></div><div>So - I was saying - the last 5 months - Well, one visa, one trip to the states, one resignation letter, one "living by myself", one set of new friends, one set of new relationships, one set of muddled relationships, one new "work experience", one "new ultra cool office space", one set of goodbyes, one set of hellos, one trip back to India, second visa, and planning for the second trip to USA.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's nice to be able to write again.</div><div><br /></div></div>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-1285487180931758782010-03-25T00:25:00.004+05:302010-03-27T10:21:11.286+05:30Breathe.If you do a thing for 3+ weeks straight, it becomes a habit. Really.<br /><br />The urge to reach out to the phone and text has died. I can spend time online without refreshing my email every five minutes and/or checking if my messenger is working fine and my status is available.<br /><br />I HATE not being able to do any of that. I HATE missing you when I'm happy. When I crack a real awesome joke, I miss sharing it. When I think of something really sarcastic and funny, I hate not hearing you laugh. I hate seeing emails by your name in someone else's inbox because it only drives home the point that there isn't anything from you in mine.<br /><br />I know its pathetic, but I still keep my phone on loud when I sleep so that I can hear it ring, should it ring. Something pulls at my insides at the thought of hearing your voice again, and not in a good way - it makes breathing hard.<br /><br />There, I've said it.<br /><br />I'll use itch guard, but I will not give in. I won't.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">P.S. Random, don't worry.</span>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-26858826247379706542010-03-01T13:47:00.008+05:302010-03-07T12:01:39.910+05:303/7/2010<ul><li>The mother of all inventions is this - "7 days of love". Bottle with 7 pills - each capsule opens up and has a paper inside it. A love note, if you may. How can you not love a person who buys you this? :D</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/S4uA1orlMjI/AAAAAAAAAN0/_002YteFrT4/s1600-h/Image133.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/S4uA1orlMjI/AAAAAAAAAN0/_002YteFrT4/s320/Image133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443586233549009458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><ul><li>Space is good, space is great. I hate it when people crowd me or push too much. I actually retreat faster than you can say "retreat".<br /><br />You create too much space, though, and you can be very sure you'll lose the person.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>It does become tough to re do your house when you are faced with options like the following :</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/S4uArljyBOI/AAAAAAAAANs/vJI7Seg8srM/s1600-h/fabric.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/S4uArljyBOI/AAAAAAAAANs/vJI7Seg8srM/s320/fabric.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443586060912297186" border="0" /></a></div><br /><ul><li>Maruti 800 drivers are the most cautious drivers on the road. It's a fact.<br /><br /></li><li>Be very careful who you give control of your life to - who you let in, who you decide to share your emotions with. Very few people keep their promises, and fewer still actually care.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>I'm extremely glad I have people in my life - whose voices I just have to hear and everything becomes ok. A terrible week just fades away after talking to them for 10 minutes.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>I'm changing the world one person at a time. By making people stop use the "k" instead of "okay" or anything else. "K" is one of the most detestable words in the history of the world. It denotes indifference and that just sucks.<br /></li></ul><br /><ul><li>Rahul Dulhaniya Le Jayega has to be the most depressing show on national television. Who wouldn't want to marry an over achiever like this person? 20 year olds who still have their entire lives in front of them are putting more than just their lives on the line - all the hopes and dreams that live in tiny recesses of their beings - all of that is being put on the line. How does someone find the strength/stupidity to do that? For money? Really? Parents who actually prodded their daughters into doing this show actually exist?</li></ul><br /><ul><li>Carnegie Mellon University, Mays School of Business, Kelley School of Business and University of Washington all want me. Little old me. I'm so proud of me. I've slayed the last few demons with this achievement :)</li></ul><br /><ul><li>Pretty sure I'll decide on Kelley - can't wait for the excitement to take over :D</li></ul><br /><ul><li>I was so sure he'd call today. He didn't.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>I just realized I have a weird fetish. I collect paper bags. I love paper bags. And hotel toiletries. So now you know what to give me if you ever meet me :)</li></ul><br /><ul><li> Bad stomach! Haven't eaten in 4 days.</li></ul><br /><ul><li>What's with dad's and marriage? I'm so glad I'm going away for two years at least. I'll be the one with the visa. Ha ha ha. </li></ul>Hope you guys had a great week, and wishing you a better one ahead!<br /><br />All my love.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-14747610134301596452010-02-27T15:37:00.003+05:302011-04-17T09:38:24.214+05:30Dear BDear B,<br /><br />Over the years, I've tried in many ways to show you how good you are. How much you are loved. How many you inspire. How many you smiles you spread. I say tried, because on some occasions I doubt I have convinced you fully. I do hope that while your mind might tell you one thing in these occasions of doubt, you will know deep down in your soul, the truth.<br /><br />No one knows the power of words as well as I do. And try as hard as I might, there are times when I have let you down. And there is nothing much I can do on hind sight but apologize. I hate liars, and consequently lying to myself. It takes time for me to find the real reasons, the right words to say what I need to- which is why as soon as I find them, I write. Which is also why some times I stumble. It does not mean I am weak in any way or changing sides to please the powers that be. In explaining to the other what I have understood of me and my actions, I am not making excuses or hiding.<br /><br />You have a strong personality, and I have no doubt that some day you will be a force unto yourself. I envy you that. It is said, and wisely at that, that with great power comes great responsibility. That the secret to a good relationship, to being a successful leader, to well, being pretty much good at anything- you need to be a good listener. To act like a sponge. Look objectively at facts, process them, and then announce your verdict. Like not everything is forgivable, every wrong isn't worthy of a death sentence. Sometimes all you need to do for the accused is find him a psychiatrist.<br /><br />Even while this milestone may imply a parting of ways, I cannot but help await with eagerness to see you grow stronger, more beautiful and smarter. I also cannot help the tiny twinge of uneasiness that accompanies these feelings, the dark monster that rears its head(s) at times- the fear of you being hurt, the need to protect and just hold you close, to protect you from the ugliness. I however, quell these teeny weeny doubts with just as much ease, for I know I have taught you all that I can and know. And now I must just let you be.<br /><br />Test your boundaries but don't ever do anything that you'd want to hide from people. Let your hair down, discover yourself, but one baby step at a time. Always always trust and believe in yourself.<br /><br />And know, that you are loved. Forever.<br /><br />All my love.<br /><br />(Written on 5/21/2009)Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-89661634195973163792010-02-10T20:49:00.004+05:302010-02-11T00:03:29.647+05:30Little thingsSo it's one of those days at work - There's a deadline to meet. The powers that be have decided to assign me work that has a terrible schedule - I'm convinced I'm hated.<br /><br />I'm trying to debug a piece of code and staring hard at my screen. V comes by and insists I look up. When I do, she's busy talking to the person sitting next to me. After a few minutes she's walking back to her desk.<br /><br />Me: Hello? You were saying something?<br />V : *scratches head* I was?<br />Me: Yeah! You came all the way insistently yelling my name. Must have been something important.<br />V: Important?<br />*after two minutes*<br />V: I love you?<br /><br />I totally ♥ work.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-68543437611645101542010-02-03T23:51:00.003+05:302010-02-04T00:02:34.593+05:30Sweet dreams.It's late at night, and after the day you've had all you want to do is curl up and let it come to an end. The radio is playing Hoshwalon Ko Khabar Kya and the moon is up right near your window. You're too tired to let the light bother you, or let the sight enchant you.<br /><br />The phone is lying on your ear, and you whisper to keep the household from waking up. You could just not talk, but the voice is comforting. Pleasing. Caring. Because you're lying on your stomach you develop the slightest of slurs, it makes you sound even more adorable than you are.<br /><br />No unnecessary conversation, the silence is comforting. Every once in a while the person on the other end says something and you respond. You blabber on about work related stuff that is still running through your mind, even without realizing it - and the other person, lets you. Tomorrow morning, you'll hear all about it :)<br /><br />Before you know it, the ghazal is over and you've gone to sleep.<br /><br />With the biggest smile on your face.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-80711927077830292082010-01-02T08:05:00.002+05:302010-01-02T08:31:52.400+05:30* pops champagne bottle *I end each with with surprise at how much the year has really brought with itself- this year, came to such a smooth halt, it was only when I turned to look back that I realized how many chapters have ended and how many new ones started!<br /><br /><ul><li>Became an engineer, no thanks to Anna University, but to all the people who made the journey bearable- for unexpected friendship, bizzare reasons to laugh, nonsensical messages and group studying- thank you .</li><li>Am now gainfully employed with a "salary account" and absolutely love each day of work, thank you Accenture. I have a boss who says "<span style="font-style: italic;">chal jhooti" </span>and "don't lie" when I wish him a happy new year and tell him I'm going straight home from office and a team that sings "Shala la la la" while working on a Saturday afternoon. Did not know corporate life could be like this. I consider myself blessed everyday.<br /></li><li>Moved from Chennai, after 8 years, to Mumbai- can't help miss Chennai, but it was time to move on. There will always be a bond to that place- I "grew up" there :) I loved my surprise farewell party, it was actually a surprise. I was to leave thinking I'd had no impact on lives, only to be taught that I was loved.<br /></li><li>Met my chuddy buddy after half a decade- thank you dad for moving to Mumbai and Accenture for letting me stay in Mumbai. </li><li>My sister made it to law school, all by herself, and totally lived up to my faith in her capabilities. Every battle we've fought together, or that I fought for you with mom and dad, has been worth it. I'm proud of you, honey.<br /></li><li>Gave GRE, gave TOEFL- did well- still can't stop being happy about the 5.5 on my essay! Wrote essays on "me", did my first "video" interview. Thanks Nav, for all your help. Words will never be enough to express my gratitude.</li><li>Sold my first (and probably last) painting!</li><li>Tasted champagne- belch.<br /></li></ul>There's a million other things, I'm sure, that have made this year just whiz past- and it's been one helluva ride. 2009 was an important year from every angle, no doubt, but 2010 will be an even more important year and I've got only three little words for it- bring it on.<br /><br />Here's wishing each of you good things, happy endings and glorious new beginnings this coming year. May each of you, and the people you love, be blessed with good health and lots of laughter.<br /><br />All my love.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-86093184287012295832009-12-25T16:46:00.004+05:302009-12-26T20:55:56.498+05:30EOY ramblingsIt's been so long that words have flown as easy as they do today- and even while it takes effort to get out of bed and grab my laptop, to move around pillows so I can find a more comfortable position to recline in without setting off my cough again- I do so willingly, because this comes as a welcome relief.<br /><br />Accenture has been treating me wonderfully. In spite of the long hours I put in, I absolutely love going to office, and the people I have with me on my team. There isn't a work day that goes by without a shared bout of unlimited laughter with colleagues; the bond between new friends strengthening over exchanging inconsequential details about each others lives; the rush of pleasure that an email of praise from your boss brings; the feeling of belonging you experience when someone looks hard enough to find a strained smile and does their best to turn it into a full blown laugh.<br /><br />With such a hectic week, the weekends are completely and purely dedicated to sleep.<br /><br />I find myself, on most days, in good place in life. I like the tiredness of a day well spent that makes you just fall into bed at night.<br /><br />What I don't like is these sudden bouts of loneliness- when you miss the feel of a hand that is larger and rougher than yours quietly engulf yours underneath the table; when you miss the hands that take the liberty to sneak around your waist, to keep you from leaving. A shadow that makes you feel safe, strong and loved. A single look that can make you smile.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-59642568064329384742009-10-29T18:21:00.003+05:302009-10-29T18:49:33.750+05:30<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/SumP4_QlSAI/AAAAAAAAALo/qrLssQ0cYC0/s1600-h/cupcake-birthday-cake.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bjGDayMge20/SumP4_QlSAI/AAAAAAAAALo/qrLssQ0cYC0/s400/cupcake-birthday-cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398003837596682242" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />I realized only today that Quest for Thought turned 5 this June. It's sad that the year has almost come to an end, and even though so much has happened, I haven't made enough time to write. Five years! Half a decade. I've been able to define myself not only through my writing, but in the writing of others. To everyone who takes the time out to visit, and comment, and care- thank you.<br /><br /><a href="http://astrodominie.wordpress.com/">Jayashree</a>, you're my biggest find in this blogging world. Your writing is amazing, and I can only hope that you keep giving me things to read.<br /><br /><a href="http://outburst.wordpress.com/">Navneet</a>, I've found in you the brightest of minds and kindest of hearts (and correct grammar, and someone who can cut short my sentences). I can't wait to see the Nobel in your hands.<br /><br /><a href="http://nonsenseofkaushik.blogspot.com/">Koze</a>, you're the reason I started writing, and you probably have a few people who can't wait to murder you for that. I love your writing, and you! A million thank yous for everything.<br /><br />Anna, Adi, Abhishek, Ry- I wish you'd write more!<br /><br />All my love.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-46726182690032924012009-08-27T23:08:00.004+05:302009-09-27T02:06:43.581+05:30Blank.There are times like these when being in two minds seems almost like a relief. It means you're not in more than a dozen emotional states at one time. You're not bored and scared of excitement at the same time; you wish to "do something" and not get out of your chair at the same time as you're not bored and scared of excitement; you're not sad that you are over somebody you've loved for a major part of your adult life and miss that rush of feelings you felt every time you spoke to them at the same time as you're not bored and scared of excitement and you wish to "do something" and not get out of your chair.<br /><br />You're in just two minds. <br /><br />You're happy. You're happy because you spent time catching up with your best friend, even if it is on the phone. You're happy because amma had something to say about the fact that you spent half the evening on the phone with a boy she does not like, even though you're 21 and haven't spent more than 5 minutes on a phone in 2 months. It's just like old times. You feel calm, and just let go. Let things be. Let them come to you, instead of being in a rush to get to them. You no longer worry about what time it is or where you have to be next, even while still arriving at where you are now. It's a blissful feeling.<br /><br />And second, you're blank. Just in the moment. There is no past and no future. Just this minute, in which ma is promising to smash the yellow bulb you are determined to <br />read/write, in <span style="font-weight:bold;">first</span> thing in the morning, your sister is jabbering nineteen to a dozen about how the judge in her court was so utterly cute; in which you find your dad calling you to wish you goodnight.<br /><br />In some corner of your mind soon, the wheels will start churning again. There will be a million things that need to be done, a gazillion things that need to be said. But until that moment, there is this feeling, this feeling of eternal hope. This warmth, that ensconces you. This sensation of being surrounded by love. In which you can't help but feel blessed.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-47667685788656801012009-08-24T21:21:00.002+05:302009-08-24T21:32:51.069+05:30update 24/12/09So, TOEFL is done!! The first speaking question, which I was quite sure I'd muff up, I did. The rest was pretty okay, I'll let the marks speak for themselves. GRE is coming up soon, and I'm getting tired already.<br /><br />I'm also soon going to be a paid employee at Accenture! They've FINALLY decided to call us- I join work on the 31st of this month, at Mumbai. I can't wait.<br /><br />I recently had the misfortune of picking up Pink or Black (a gift my sister received). I swear to GOD I've never read anything worse. It's 100 pages of nothingness. The concept of trying to figure oneself out is something I've thought about myself, but this chica has taken a wonderful idea and made such a terrible mess out of it, I'm at a loss of words. You can see that the writer has used a thesaurus on random words. Sudden incidents that do not fit the character, look like they've been added, just for the sake of including them.<br /><br />The book made me starting working on MY book. Yes, I'm writing a book. If you want to feature in it, tell me something terrible/nice that's ever happened to you :D I'm serious. I've got three chapters written already. I'm going to have to thank Tishaa Khosla in my acknowledgments. Her book pushed me off the edge!!<br /><br />Seriously, give me incidents! <br /><br />All my love.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-77115747240495535872009-07-25T15:47:00.000+05:302009-07-25T15:49:05.349+05:30Coast to coast.The fact that I have in fact left Chennai, is finally starting to sink in. I'm trying my hardest to not let it seep through. <br /><br />The last few months over there were, quite ironically, the best in a long time. Everyone would soon be leaving to conquer cleaner shores, and the realization that it would be a while before we were all together like "this" again, got us all making that extra effort required to actually meet up. Spend time together. Even if it was just sitting at the beach. There was this huge "get together" that was planned. Everyone who was in town was given the itinerary and could drop in at whichever place to join in. A few of us, had kept the entire day free.<br /><br />We all went back to school, met up with teachers who were surprised to realize that it had been four years since we had left school, that we all now had degrees in our pockets. Few of us, with longer hair, more stylish beards, new piercings, were finally starting to look "older"- the others however, still just looked like school kids. Espescially when compared to the kids you see in schools today. Sheesh.<br /><br />Lunch, a movie, the beach, dinner. The only time I realize I'm 21 is when I get into a car with friends. It's quite different from using local transport because you are underage. Half of the crowd that went to the movie, got to the beach earlier than the second half. I was in the first half and hence happily spent the following half an hour/ forty five minutes complaining about guys who just had to make a detour en route for a "smoke" and/or took the longer route and got stuck in traffic, while catching up with classmates who I hadn't seen in over 5 years! <br /><br />All of a sudden there's Rahul with this huge box in his hands and Kamlesh with another, leading the troops. In the next minute, the huge box was in my lap and the other being thrust in my hands. There was a big whoop of "surprise" with which my jaw dropped to the floor. "We will miss you", the cake read. Soon there was cake cutting, cake putting on my face, hugs, my mouth looked like it had a hangar stuck in it, street dogs who had smelt food, amused onlookers, around twenty five people laughing and wishing me well and my transferring the cake from my face on to a few shirts. The gift had a huge picture of me in the background, with "PK" spelt out using pictures of the entire gang over the years. People had made time to come because it was my surprise farewell. They wouldn't have missed it for the world, they told me. I was absolutely stunned.<br /><br />I remained stunned till the night before I was going to leave when I was given the "second" part of my gift. A video in which everyone had recorded their message for me. All this from people who I had been scared to tell that I was leaving for the fear that their reactions of nonchalance would kill me. I hated to think that the people I had come to care for so dearly wouldn't care. <br /><br />But they did. They understood the gifts I had made for them, they treasured them. They understood the significance of the surprise parties I had thrown for them, and thanked me for them. I wasn't just some "add on" to the group. I had made a difference, touched a few hearts. Made friends for life.<br /><br />I continue to remain stunned till today.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-48680456470128584922009-04-25T10:25:00.005+05:302009-04-26T00:09:13.618+05:3025/4/2009<p><br /><li>I was just thinking the other day- how important it is to have someone in your life with whom you can fight. Who doesn't fight your battles for you, but let's your spirit kick in on a day when things just couldn't get any worse (but they do) and you want to give up. Who hates to see the sparkle leave your eyes, and who loves you because you are strong enough to believe.</li><br /><br /><li>College is almost over. It's like unfinished business- it didn't feel like closure. It hasn't felt like an accomplishment as yet either. I guess it's because they're still keeping us coming to college every which way they can.</li><br /><br /><li>I don't understand how teachers don't understand the responsibility that lies on their shoulders. Don't they read the books? Watch the movies? How can they not know? Didn't they have this one teacher who changed them?</li><br /><br /><li>Lisa Scottoline is brilliant. Have I said that before? Either way, it deserves the reiteration. One of her most famous characters- Bennie Rosatto is the face of my new role model. Surprised that I look up to a fictitious character? Are you really? </li><br /><br /><li>I don't judge a book by it's cover- at least not a first glance. Like a man's shoes are the indicators of his soul, a book's dedication tells you everything about it's writer. If you like the dedication, there's very little chance you won't like the book.<br /><br />Scottoline, not only has bold covers that reflect the style of her writing and her characters, but also good dedications. And what's more, I've never seen Acknowledgments written the way she does them. It's not just a list of names, it's sentences and praise and credit to this whole bunch of people- who you can SEE she's actually grateful for. It's human.<br /><br />Plus, her characters know their shoes :D </li><br /><br /><li>Yes, I have changed my template again, and moved over from the dark side. Turns out they don't have the cookies. I like this one. The look is clean, has the right amount of color, and a good proportion of style. I DID spend all night, literally, on this, and I like the results. </li><br /><br />I had a million things to say, as usual, but turns out that just the joy of being able to write again is blinding my senses, so I shall stop for now, and be back soon with more. Cuz, like it or not, I'm back baby.<br /><br />All my love.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-3683081871159672652009-04-15T23:00:00.002+05:302009-04-15T23:11:11.375+05:30Clueless.I was watching Bones today, just like I do every Wednesday when they're running Bones on TV. And this last scene, they're sitting on stairs and looking at the city that lies ahead of them. She's citing clinical terminology to explain that she's realized her father really loves her, and she should have seen that- he doesn't understand a word as usual. I dunno how to explain it- he just leans on her shoulder laughing at something inane. They're just so damn cute together, it makes me smile and feel sad at the same time.<br /><br />The other day, we were just sitting around- that is my friends and I. And. Ok, I dunno how to say this. She was upset, really really upset. And every once in a while she'd realize that and start thinking about whatever it was that was upsetting her, and her eyes would go down. The smile would start slipping. And just like that, He was there, cracking us all up. Pulling her out of the darkness she was drowning into. Every time. Looking into her eyes, and cooking up stuff just to see them smile.<br /><br />I dunno what I was going to get at. I'm so damn iffy, I can't sit in one place. <br /><br />Oh and considering how long it's been since I've written, I'm moving from Chennai. Permanently. After close to nine years.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-8692065731516169522009-03-08T14:31:00.004+05:302009-03-08T23:01:27.622+05:30Censorship- Essay-1Censorship can be loosely defined as the suppression of content in any form of communicative material that may be considered sensitive, harmful or objectionable by a censor. When talking of issues pertaining to a nations security, censorship finds a well-qualified place. However, in a society like today's, it is ludicrous to expect that censorship of improper content and language in public media by a government body or any other agency will in any way do good to mankind. Most especially when the argument being made is scattered with loosely defined words like "improper content" and "questionable language".<br /><br />Censorship has in one form or the other prevailed in society over centuries. A this-is-right-and-this-is-wrong standpoint by any one particular body only serves to create feelings of unrest and consternation in one party or the other and hence should not be advocated. The ambiguity of what can or cannot be viewed only lends itself to such controversy. It is for each individual to decide for himself/herself, what content is appropriate and what is not, and in the case of a minor it is the responsibility of the concerned guardian or parent.<br /><br />That the reduction in portrayal of violence in the media will somehow decrease crime rate is an argument that is flawed from the word 'that'. The causes of violence go beyond portrayals of anger and might in the media, and those are the ones that need to be researched and dealt with. An argument based on such a basis is comparable to claiming that it is the printing industry that is responsible for child abuse, that the banks are being robbed because Mr. Bachan does it in some movie, or that children have started smoking because they've heard that Mr. Khan does so. <br /><br />Allowing censorship by a governing body would mean handing over a tool to certain sects of society that would not hesitate to use this to further their own propaganda, which is NOT unheard of in today's world. For example, a dictatorial regime could use such policing to suppress the spread of politically sensitive content and the rise of resistance. Or a theocratic government, as we have seen in the case of Europe, could use and has used such means to oppress the masses, thwart invention and the hinder the quest for knowledge. Governments have been known to and accused of using censorship to falsify scientific research, school- textbook material, amongst other things to abet its own interests.<br /><br />Also, in the world of the world wide web it is absolutely farcical to think it is possible to try and control what content is available, what can be viewed and by whom. The problem is only compounded by the fact that the technology is only emerging and is hence more vulnerable.<br /><br />Censorship not only curbs the right to freedom of expression but also prevents open debate about sensitive social and religious issues like homosexuality, prostitution, etc. An intellectually stimulating discussion of such like matter is of prime importance in not only creating awareness but also in impeding the creation and spread of fanatical sentiments. <br /><br />Promotion of sensible and realistic censorship at home is a more pragmatic proposition. Yes, young minds are impressionable- but it would be fallacious to think that one could control somehow a child's perception by just removing a few scenes from a movie or beeping the bad words. It could be just an ordinary bus ride that could teach him about chain snatching, absolutely atrocious language and sexual abuse- what do you, stop him from taking the bus? Parental guidance is the need of the hour. The concerned bodies can be brought in to bring about regulation of timing of shows, after a survey and a generalization of the TV-time that children are allowed- this being the extent to which these bodies are allowed to exert power.<br /><br />To conclude, it is absolutely imperative that a child/ person be aware of what is happening in and around the world he lives in and later has to face. This will facilitate the individual in equipping himself/herself to not only thrive but also prosper by making informed decisions that are based on a thorough understanding and analysis of consequences of what has happened and issues that are being created by what is happening today. Disallowing particular things in one region of the world is not going to stop people from just migrating to a place where these things are not illegal. Only prevention of the availability of "improper" content in public media does not in any way reduce the chances of a person being exposed to them, and in these cases caught unawares.<br /><br />-------------------------<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Sentences you've GOT to use at least once in your lifetime<br /><br />1. It was neither the lack of acuity nor that of acumen that actuated her drop into an abyss of academic abasement and her climb to the acme of acerbity ever seen in a lady.<br /><br />2. The hirsute hoary filled with hubris of his hortatory talent failed to see how humdrum his homilies actually were.</span>Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13593065.post-67272663455780294962009-03-05T19:50:00.001+05:302009-03-05T19:52:10.008+05:30Sigh.Just because she comes off strong doesn't mean she didn't fall asleep crying and even though she acts like everything is fine, maybe, just maybe, she's really good at lying.Sthupit Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16986952677940498955noreply@blogger.com5