To Kill A Mocking Bird- If you haven't read, you should and if you have, well done you! Written in the simplest of ways, it talks of the various boundaries we inflicted on ourselves, and still do. A mocking bird does nothing but sing for you- killing it is hence a sin. Hilarious in a very elegant way (Yes weird choice of words- but they seem to say it best) Harper Lee (The author, that is; in case you were wondering) speaks of the plain and simple truths of life.

The thing that struck me most was the freedom that the children in the book are given to think, explore and in turn question. Oh sure, it's the jingle all schools sing and of course the Ministry, but is it really what we're doing? Put simply, we're told of things.

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri- After all the hype I was disappointed. Terribly in fact. To be fair I guess one could account the disappointment to the fact that I didn't read about the book, before I took it up. As ordinary as the story is you have to credit the author who managed to describe every person in the guy's train compartment 25 years ago- traits, clothes, what they talked about, about each of their families and their kids characters, everything- whilst his wife is giving birth to their first born. Not every person can fit so much information, in a scene as such.

The end was what I had concluded previously- the earth is round. What goes around, comes around. There's no point in running away from anything, even the smallest things because they are going to come back and bite you hard.

Crisis by Robin Cook sucks, to put it in one word. There's hardly the excitement one expects from this author even though he's brought in a bully, terrorizes children and tried to bring an adrenalin rush by describing a car chase sequence. To be more articulate, the book is a terrible effort to mix medicine and law. A subject that I assure you is fascinating, if you may. To conclude, the book sadly was ill cooked.

Last time I looked, I wasn't too sure what prompted my need to face things, in some cases even provoke the other person because I was guilty just to get it over with while in others there was no reason to prod at all. There's a number of explainations, sure, but none that... fit?

I feel bad, yes... but I'm not ashamed. I can face what went wrong becaue of me, but I'm not hiding in some corner, no more. It's a powerful tool- shame. If you can face yourself in the morning, you're on the right track; if you can't, I'm afraid my friend you need to sort a few things out.

Having figured this out only recently, it's still sinking in. While a major factor, I'd still have to put a lot of it down to asking for a fight- you know it'll come sooner of later... the whole wheel of life, good and then bad and then good, seasons, change... so why not get it done with NOW?

Blah.

Music and Lyrics is a must watch, even if you usually avoid chick flicks. The humor and wit will keep you in your seats. Plus, there is Hugh Grant.

Million Dollar Baby- if you want to feel bad, sad and all that, sure be my guest.

Provoked on the other hand is not something I'd recommend, seeing now that I have completely stopped touching newspapers unless of course I have absoultely nothing else to read and have made it a point to not watch news channels unless in dire cirumstances.

Trageic story, yes. Shouldn't happen to anyone. Movie isn't all that great- in spite of the emotion that the story carries the movie is distant and cold. Oh sure, they've tried, but it hasn't really worked.

That's kinda all I had to say. And some more stuff, guess I'll save it for another post.

Ta.

Hear me out.

Read aloud, let it settle, process and then react. Don't assume that it's me and hence it will be one way and not another and tell me what you think.

We don't always know everything about everything, but we do know something about some things and a lot about others- sometimes we even know almost everything about some things. Some we know, others we think we know and yet others we make ourselves believe 'cuz they're being said of by others we know, or who claim to know us and us them. Point is- we lose perspective. Of who we are, what we stand for and what the other person means to us.

Whether you came across a person reading a book, browsing a magazine or watching a movie- you either like the character or don't; you pick up a few traits you wished you had, some you have and others you'd rather no one around you did.

What attracts me most, now that I sit to think about it, is the fact that I KNOW what happens to the person in the end. That there is a happily ever after, and a proper way to get there. Take for example a very typical case- man/woman is from a broken family, and has learnt to not believe in "soul mates" and "love" (you'd think I were obsessed with the issue); that's how she lives life and treats all the relationships she encounters- nothing lasts forever. But then, there comes along a woman/man who refuses to give up on them- who refutes everything they've ever believed in; and slowly they thaw, give in, realize that it was all a shield, take a risk and there's the whole walking into the sunset.

So what do I do? Make myself believe in exactly all that. I know what's to happen to such a person down the road. I know what others like about these people, I know what they don't. And I do that.

Take an approx number of the number of books I've read in say only this past year- 1000? 10,000? Something in between- whatever. Add up all the people I've read about, watched and observed and you get a rough estimate of how many traits I've incorporated and how many I've chucked. What does that make me?

One helluva patch worked quilt, that's what.

The answer doesn't bother me as much as the implications of it do. How much original? If anything at all, that is. How much fake? How much just an effort at being something I'm not?

There was a point to all this, I swear. Now if I could only remember what it was.

Serendipity is my most favoritest word in the whole wide world.

Usually the fruits of my endless aritistic pursuits is trashed, and if perfect in my eyes- gifted. So when you ask me to show you of my "art" I find limited, recent stuff.



'Made around 6 or 7 of these- I was just making use of the paint left on the brush. Anyway, those have gone off in pairs to my dearest bro and an aunt- I just hope they're deemed worthy of adorning any wall of the house.











This here sweetheart, was one of my first attempts at making stuffed toys- I ended up making a life size dog some time back, surprised myself with it too.









The next piece, finds a small place in my sis s room; those of you who've been here for the past year know of it. For those of you who haven't- this was one of those lesser known brilliant ideas. When my mum heard me shout it out, 'cuz I was in a crowded bus, she asked me to find a place and sit down. Was done in 12 hours flat. And for those still reading, she still hasn't taken it off- yay me






Like I was saying the other day- for a whole 4 years black and white was my life. Or at least the part where the thought of making something didn't nauseate me. Anyway, that period led me to be known, in my small circle, for pieces like the one shown on the right- look closely and you'll find a lot more to it than just random black lines. Almost everyone who means anything to me, owns one of these.



Guitar classes.

It's a funny thing- most of the stuff I do, write- has to be inspired. You can't ask me to sit, hand me a bursh and paints, and order me to draw and actually expect it to happen.

Boiled! The temperatures are soaring, and we've only just reached the middle of the month! Thankfully, I got done with my exams before.

I am one of those few lucky people who had(3)/has(1 + 2) grandparents who absolutely spoiled her. Spoiled her rotten, actually. A lot of it was cuz I was the first born of the best set of kids, either side had seen. And well, I was me. I hear you say when you say elder people can be a pain, but I lose you when you need me to understand that. To me they are a nice pain. I can't imagine otherwise.

I FINALLY saw Music & Lyrics. It's cute. And it's got Hugh Grant. It's made of nice stuff- good wit. Go watch! Scoot.

Have you ever felt like a chair? Or a sofa? Any piece of furniture? Which is there to just be used. Doesn't argue, doesn't retaliate, doesn't fight, doesn't ask for anything- it's purpose is to do what it's made to do. Be sat on, or moved around to suit another s whim. It's a unique feeling- you should try it some time!

Sanity teaches you, or wishes to teach one; as is in my case- that there is no soul mate no "the one", just a person who you are more compatible with than most. Or a few people, if you must. And you just choose one, or let one choose you and live the rest of your lives with them.

Insanity, which is abundant, refuses such futile justifications for being cowardly. What kind of a life will you lead, with no passion? What'll you do with compatibility when what you need is a champion; the biggest hug in the world; someone to share your joy with; a slow dance; to lie on your back and admire the skies? What happens then?

Blah.

I'm good, hope you are too.

All my love.

Phew! Finally, done. It's wover.

This vacation, I've decided is going to be about doing all the stuff that scares me, super self conscious that I am. And guess what, two days into my holidays, and I've managed to start. And once I start, I sail along just fine.

No major feats, just small stuff. It's the daring yourself stuff I keep yapping about- here's an FYI, it works! On my "things to get done before this year ends", every year was learn dance. And now I am. Sure, dance would be stretching things a bit, for now at least- I have to be the most ill coordinated person on the entire planet!! While shoes come as a major first when I need to measure a person up, the person s ability to actually laugh at himself comes a very very close second. So, if I use that to judge people (which includes me), I needed to do this, if only to just laugh.

It's going to be two years now, that I haven't done any art stuff. The last break I gave myself, was for my sis s birthday gift. Every time I look at that wall, I remember the exhilaration, the... there's just something about art and me. Two years ago, I just stopped. I couldn't even look at color, without wanting to avert my eyes. Yesterday, I attended a workshop for art and it's time I laid the past to rest.

I've always been called the granny... People come up to me and talk, and I let them talk themselves out. Sort themselves out. Stand up for yourself, believe in yourself, fight for what your believe, fight for what and whom you love... I realize now, how empty those words used to be back then- heck I have a tough time believing that people actually believed me when I said such stuff. Maybe it was the conviction, maybe it was just an echo of what they believed in and just wanted to hear it aloud from someone else, maybe. Because, it's only today, that when I say them, I can answer your skeptical look- and say been there, done exactly that.

I never will have to worry about writing about something I have no idea about- just mouthing clichè s. I finally, live up to myself.

To write well, you have to write about something you know.

We all have choices. To stand up for yourselves and/or what/whom you believe in, or to give up. To believe, or to fool yourselves into disbelieving. To give in, or to fight. To fight, or to concede. We just need to remember that just like our choices are half chance, so are others'.

I'm not too sure about this one though. You like your cakes with eggless or without eggless? And thankfully this is one I really don't have to make, cuz there's this place here, that offers both!! What say you?

On the few occassions that I have surfaced in this past week, I have been thoroughly disappointed in the world, at large. It's not something new- but it's really funny (ironically funny) that even though you try to maintain an absolute "I don't expect anything" relationship, you're disappointed.

In fact, I think I've come to realize, that that is when a person is actually most hurt/demoralized/hopeless. No, I'm not talking about anything major- as in, not in relation to my personal life, I'm pointing at, or trying to considering I'm having to point out what I was trying to point at- is this whole issue about "kissing" which is going on.

Useless people. Wasting national time, judicial time and people s time. And driving me to the point, where I've decided to ditch TV channels too. I mean seriously, where s the fire! Instead of concentrating on the issue, the only issue, we're debating whether Gere has to be fined or taken into custody because he was trying to spread AIDS awareness. Is this how jobless the people of the government are?

So what if he kissed her! It wasn't even on the mouth. And it wasn't like he was testing the lastes French moves or something. People do it all the time. And if she has no objection to being pecked on the cheek, why the hell should you have any?

The media is made of bull shit. I'd rather not know what was happening in the world, than be forced to endure such utter nonsense. And best part is- it's not ONE debate, it's a series of them! If they had responsibility of any kind, they'd bleddy well refuse to waste time on nonsene like this, and deal with showing some real stuff. For a change.

Phew. Run out of steam. Still have two more papers to go before I can live again! We should start a boycott movement against the media. Now there's and idea.

All my love.


It's bleddy shameful. We'll be the joke people laugh about when they're having high tea and scones.

The other day, I don't remember why exactly though, was a general enough conversation- it struck me, and over whelmed me. It, being realization. About? Love. Marriage. Happily ever after. Forever.

I dunno if it's just me or if it's just me, I felt this sudden fear engulf me. You know that sensation you're supposed to get of a heavy boulder settling down in your stomach? It happened! Well at least, something these books talk about is true.

If I see the stuff that's happening around me, there's a pretchy good chance that others see it too, right? Atleast 10% of the "people other than me"? So, then how do they manage to center their whole existence, literaly in some cases in fact, around one single person? One emotion. One thread. How?!! These, by the by, are most often people who take hours to decide what they're going wear!

Jokes aside, seriously, how!!! Most boy-friends, love- of- my- life s , etcetra etcetra s that I've met or seen either dominate the other person- so much so that they cut themselves off from their friends and become totally dependent on the other person, or treat the other person like shit. And by shit, I mean shit.

True there is no "perfect person". But how much imperfection do you settle for? Actually, that isn't even the point- the point is how can you trust someone so much with yourself, that you give the person everything you have- mind, body and soul? Everything.

Right. You tell me how. I've forgotten everything else I wanted to say- just answer the question, someone, please!

Lv.

P.S: Four more papers to go. 'Am so damn bogged down, I think my sleep time is bordering 4-5 hours or something. Anyway, like they say "I will survive". Blah. Hope alls well!

They come from the same village, my friend and another guy. The guy is fatherless and looks up to my friend s dad. Family friends, to be slightly more specific. So he takes on my friend, and they are "brother and sister" now.

She'd been talking to a guy in class for sometime, my friend that is- a few messages (and few here, IS few- 10 ish) in the week, a call in a fortnight. Somewhere down the line, she'd started thinking of him as her "husband" - translated- she'd developed a crush on the guy.

Obviously, she didn't go immediately and tell her "bro" (excuse me, but this word will always be in quotes here) about these new feelings. She took her time, but she did tell him.

He yelled at her for 4 hours straight- told her she was impure (exact words, mind you), breaking her parents' trust, and the likes. All she did for two days was cry. She couldn't sit without welling up- even in class. And she couldn't go to any of her hostel friends, because of the "shame". She wanted to kill herself, wash herself of this impurity and shame.

Her "brother" made her promise never to even look in the direction of that guy. Everything he wanted- she did. She didn't attend even one of the college functions, because he didn't want her to, didn't go out with her "girl" friends cuz he didn't want her to.. basically, she danced to his every tune. Every time she set foot outside the dorms, he was there. Things went on that way for a while- he was making her the good girl she had been when she came to college.

He hit her. He physically hit her. Slapped her, punched her, threw her things across the room and boxed her until she fainted.

In a classroom, in college.

Why? Because she'd finally decided to let the crush- guy talk to her about what was happening... she'd just stopped talking to him, didn't take his calls and completely ignored him. The least she could do, was tell him that she didn't ever want to talk to him again.

What'd she do? She stood there and let him hit her. When he threw water at her face to get her back to consciousness, she got up and went back to the hostel, ate, studied, took his calls and listened to his apologies and slept. She did what he wanted- he wanted her to promise she'd never even look in the direction of that guy, ever, much less talk to him.

After all, he was her brother. What but her best interests would he have in mind?

----------------

I have brothers too. And they look out for my interests, just like I do them. After all, it's easier to go to them with crushes and stuff like that than to go to your parents. In my case, I have both. But still, this is plain and simple abuse.

In this case, at least after this last incident, she's believing me when I tell her that what this guy is doing- controlling her- is plain and simple WRONG. UNHEALTHY. That if her own father ever caught on on what had happened, he'd kill him.

The thing is, even though realization and acceptance is a major step, it's not enough. She doesn't want to ruin his last two years in college, but like I pointed out to her- his ruining her last two years in college wasn't justified either.

I'm working on it, and if it's the last thing I do- I'm going to slap the guy at least once before I leave. I take him on blindfolded, by the by, he's a stick. I could probably do "boo" and he'd fall. But I swear it, if he ever lays his hand on her again, he's dead.

Don't give into such abuse. No one, not even your own parents, have the right to do this to you. It's NOT RIGHT. Please, don't. Your not helping the other person, your encouraging him. I know it's easy saying it sitting on the outside, but I'm still saying it.

For all those of you who are lucky, don't let people around you give in to such stuff. They just need to know someone is there for them, to TELL them that this is wrong. They know it is, they just need affirmation.

All my love.

Not made up, absolutely true, even though I wish with the core of my being it wasn't.

Ugh.


Blah.

All my love.