Again. Jezus, dunno if it was the nature of this past year, or if it's just me, but another year s zoomed past, and all that comes to my mind now when I think of it, is, FINALLY.

Usually, I find myself not wanting it to end... To let the good luck and happy times roll on some more, 'cuz you never know whats on the other side of 31st December... This year, I'm not doing that anymore. What makes it worse sometimes is the fact that the pain or laughter of a person, any person however indirectly connected to me, that I know of, no matter in what part of the world affects me.

More that anything, all I've done this year is, lose. Sigh. People, battles, faith, trust, my hearing capabilities, and more hair. The few black strands, mind you. Oh but what the hell! People could do worse, and what's more everyone I love is safe.

So, here's to the year that awaits us. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest the ass of whoever tries to screw your happiness and may his hands become shorter, so he can't even scratch. Wishing you all happy things and endings, and glorious beginnings.

I picked these up somewhere - and after reading them, for a long time, I sometimes wished someone had had the damn sense to say these words to me! Or cared enough to. So, here's me saying them to you, 'cuz somewhere, somehow each of us needs it :

To the you, the person with a golden heart, all you need is courage. The cowardly lion discovered he had courage all along, all he needed was a medal to remind him of it. You are hence, hereby reminded, that you are not only strong, but able, and wise and good and much loved.


- The Wicked Witch of the North.


With all my love,

Yours forever sthupitly.

I've always considered myself above hate, so far. The closest i've come to hating is, hating brinjals and silences. Brinjals, 'cuz well, they are brinjals and silences 'cuz they scare me. Other than that... I've never HATED someone.

I never thought I hated anyone. Past tense. Long passed, past.

I do. I hate the fact that I gave you the right to hurt me. I hate the fact that I told you what would hurt me. And you did. You do. And you know it. I hate me for hurting.

I hate that I shared my dreams with you, when all you could do was mock at them. I hate that it made me feel small. I hate that I let me feel small.

I hate that you made me feel like a looser, at times. That when you said it, even in anger, I let it pierce through, and hurt.

I hate you for making me cry myself to sleep every night, when you didn't shed a tear. I hate me, for being weak.

I hate you, 'cuz I can't ask you to fuck off, get lost, the way you did to me. I won't do it. I hate that I can't. Won't. 'Cuz I'm weak.

I hate you for taking me for granted. I hate me for letting you know, realise, that I'd really be there, no matter what. And you did that "what". I stayed.

I hate you for not understanding me. For never taking the effort to read in between the lines. I hate me, for expecting you to.

I hate you for knowing, and still doing it. I hate you for turning out just like another "somebody". I hate me for expecting it. Almost wanting it after a point, so that we could get it out of the way. 'Cuz more than knowing it was hurting me, I knew it wasn't good for you.

I hate that you don't realise, understand, comprehend, what I did for you... I don't want a nobel prize, but I wanted you to at least acknowledge it. I hate me for expecting something in return. Because then, that's not true friendship.

I hate you, 'cuz when I ruined myself just so your worst fears wouldn't realise, you made mine come true. I hate that now i'm left to pick the even more shattered, scattered pieces, alone... while you aren't. And don't give a damn.

Fooled ya, didn't I? Hell I f***ing fooled myself. Had to say it aloud. To accept it.

I don't know if it's really HATE, hate... I don't feel anger, towards anyone but myself. I just feel... sad at times, you know? Feel like bawling my eyes out... Crazy.. you hate something like that to? Or is it just me?

The number of "merry christmas" messages I've gotten, is amazing. Other than the social obligation people feel, there is on some level a degree of acceptance of the festival, in today's society. And that's great.

My years in Mumbai when I was younger is the reason for my feeling like bubbles bubbling. Bandra, specially the West was full of christians... I love the Mount Mary's church, and used to light candles there every evening. Still do, when I get the chance to go there. Santa, a huge real-like one , unlike the diet concious ones you see today, visited the colony, we kids got to help with the huge nativity scene and an amazingly huge tree... all the tidings of a great christmas.

The most special memories of mine of that time, other than the chirstmas delicacies I loved, was of the plays we enacted out at old-age homes a few days before christmas eve and in the church on christmas eve. I've always been an angle in the play. Sang a few carols too.

It rubbed off.

In the recent past, December makes for the not so good memories... Inspite of which, the cheer, I haven't lost. Hope, some might call it. Somehow, one makes it through. You trudge your way through a huge pile of crap, or that's what it feels like, and are ready for whatever is next thrown in your path.

Anyway, here's wishing you a very very merry chritmas.... with plum puddings and mistletoe kisses... lots of happy things and endings.

Yours forever sthupitly.

Listening to: We wish you a merry christmas by Willie Nelson.

I dunno what it is, or maybe I do, but there's something about meeting up with old friends. Mine, thankfully, aren't THAT old, as yet anyway... We don't see each other everday anymore, spend 8 hours sitting in classes together and then another 2 hours at some doggone tuition and then another few hours on the phone, jabbering about something we managed to forget to talk about. Imagine that.

Actually, there's nothing to imagine about it, each of us has most definately at least one person, with whom you'd have felt this. Or did I just get lucky? I have at least 12 of them, on last count. Did I say lucky?!!!

Whether it's just the familiar faces or the security you find in something that's known to you... Or maybe it's both. I know it's not always going to be there, in fact I was pretty sure the time I had come to finally let go, but apparently not. Sure, it's different. But it's there. Sure, it'll be even more different, but at least the memories will be there.

There was and always is a lot of letting go involved... You don't share day-to-day secrets, it's probably not easy and at sometimes the easiest to make your confessions, it's a lot of giving in to the fact that maybe they've moved on and have found better friends, it's a lot of question marks in your mind about what and who your dearest friends have become even though deep down they are essentially the same... it's the same drumming on my head, it's the same making of the movie "pen" (in which I star), it's the same teachers and their stories... Which I don't think we are going to tire of anytime soon. You'd think their effect and "funnyness" wared off after 6 years!

If I relate some of that stuff to you, you'll probably give me a weird look; ok a weirder look, happy? But with them, it's still hilarious enough to create an uproar. I think we've seen each other at our worst, through some of the toughest times, and some of the calmest and simplest and happiest times. I guess that's where the bond lies.

It was an absolute pleasure seeing everyone after ages, and right when I needed it. Just plain ol' laughter and commotion and acceptance. I dunno how that happened... the acceptance.. I was the "late entry" in the "gang"... but somehow, they let me in. And I'm forever indebted. Will be.

Anyway, that's enough of that. I hope each of us finds that solace, peace, calmness and a sense of joy and... just being with at least one friend. I hope each of my friends, you guys, always find good "better friends", if you must. May you always know, that there'll always be this grandma to come back to. And loads of happy things.

Yours forever sthupitly.

P.S : Results, are FINALLY, finally out. I cleared everything. Not that good, but managed to fit into the cream of the class. Can do better. Passed with warning.

HOTEL KERALA-FONIA - by The Yeagles

On the road to Trivandrum
Coconut oil in my hair
Warm smell of avial
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a bright pink tube-light
My tummy rumbled, I felt weak and thin
I had to stop for a bite
There he stood in the doorway
Flicked his mundu in style
And I was thinking to myself
I don't like the look of his sinister smile
Then he lit up a petromax
Muttering "No power today"
More Mallus down the corridor
I thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Kerala-fonia
Such a lousy place,
Such a lousy place (background)
Such a sad disgrace,
Plenty of bugs at the Hotel Kerala-fonia
Any time of year
Any time of year (background)
It's infested here
It's infested here

His finger's stuck up his nostril
He's got a big, thick mustache
He makes an ugly, ugly noise
But that's just his laugh
Buxom girls clad in pavada
Eating banana chips
Some roll their eyes, and
Some roll their hips
I said to the manager
My room's full of mice
He said,
Don't worry, saar, I sending you
meen karri, brandy and ice
And still those voices were crying from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them pray

Save us from the Hotel Kerala-fonia
Such a lousy place,
Such a lousy place (background)
Such a sad disgrace
Trying to live at the Hotel Kerala-fonia
It is no surprise
It is no surprise (background)
That it swarms with flies

The blind man was pouring
Stale sambar on rice
And he said
We are all just actors here
In Silk Smitha-disguise
And in the dining chamber
We gathered for the feast
We stab it with our steely knives
But we just can't cut that beef
Last thing I remember
I was writhing on the floor
That cockroach in my appam-stew was the culprit,
I am sure
Relax, said the watchman
This enema will make you well
And his friends laughed as they held me down
God's Own Country? Oh, Hell!

Another piece of treasure, I came across, ensaai. God bless the Eagles, and may the song ( the original, of course) live always :)

Yours forever sthupitly.

I hate shopping, really do. I'm not the change-"wardrobe" with every change in weather types. When I shop, which is like, once a year typically, I love doing it for people around me and my house. There's no stopping me on those two. Once in a while, I love doing it for me too.

So, most of the time, when I'm dragged from shop to shop, comaring prices and stuff, I tend to let my creative side take over. Here's a few things to do :

1) Pick up boxes of condoms and place them randomly in other shoppers shopping baskets. There's some pretty shocking "types" available.(P.S. The measure of the shockingness, can be calculated from observing your victims.)

2) Those huge mountains they make? Carefully arranged cans of cola? What if you accidently bump into one of them. Or pull one out of the center to see if it's any different from the ones outside?

3) Start weeping and crying out loudly, " Why don't they just leave me alone?" when some (unfortunate) clerk comes to you with the may-I-help-you stuff.

4) Move any and all "Caution. Wet floor." signs to not-wet/dry/ carpeted areas.

5) Use the security cameras, as mirrors to dig your noses. (Bet your wondering if I really wasn't kidding in the post earlier this week!!)

6) Hide behind a book/cloth rack and every time I person is going through stuff on the rack, shout "Pick me! Pick me!"

7) You could always, while intently looking at knives ask a clerk where the anti-depressants were...

8) Can try the same thing with rat poison too.

9) If it's a mall or something, and the personnel uses loud speakers to make announcements... when they do, cover up your ears and shout "Oh no! Not those voices in my head again!", like in agony.

10) You could light a few candles or/and start chanting some stuff and shaking and stuff - the usual "tantric" stuff, and when some ayyah bugger takes your seriously... let your creative juices flow.

11) Walk around quitely humming the Mission Impossible theme song.

12) Along the same lines of the previous one : take a call on your cell, or pretend to be talking to someone, in heated whispers, stressing on words like bomb, time left, mission accomlished, yada yada.

13) Pick up a costume, or sit behind one of the big bears in the kid section, and start moving every time a kid gets close to you!

14) Hide behind a counter at the ladies lingerie section, and every time a man turns up issue helpful warnings regarding their wives standing behind them, walking towards them, etc.

15) Open up a bottle of red paint, or a carton of tomato juice and make a trail leading to the changing rooms.

16) Write two chits with a "Meet you in the back, in 5 minutes. Switch off the lights when you enter." and pass them on to two employees/ customers. If your a handsome/beautiful person, you can pretend it's from you, else, just point at the nearest gorgeous/hunky person and say it's from them. Don't forget to see what happens!

17) Set all the clock alarms to ring at 5 minute intervals.

18) Place out-of-service signs near elevators and escalators, and watch people struggle up stairs!

19) Make sufficient noises and walk into a "opposite-sex" changing room with some "opposite-sex" clothes.

20) Call up someone, or just pretend to talk to someone on your phone, and do some dirty talking. Loudly.

21) Walk into a changing room, make funny noises and after a while, yell, "There's no toilet paper/ water in here."

Just be careful to avoid minimum possible contact with security personnel. Also, take care of the cameras and where they are placed and what area they are capturing (Specially, if you want the nose-digging to work). It'd help if your a slick talker with an adorable smile and dimple. Or have good legs.

Happy tripping,

Yours forever sthupitly.

Brought to you, courtsey of F.R.I.E.N.D.S., pogo, observation skills, some forwards on the internet and yours truly.

Disclaimer : The author takes no responsiblity for the outcome of the application of any of the above mentioned techniques.

I really hate it when I have mood swings. And lately, I've been having extreme ones. I'm not much of a dramatist, when it comes to... expressing stuff. I've got this childish idea that if people really do care they'll see beneath the surface. Read between the lines. Fill in the blanks. Whatever.

So, basically I'm just talking much more to myself. In my head. And you, my dear friend, will be better of taking it from me, that you don't ever want to end up in such a situation, no matter what.

It was so damn peaceful a while ago. Each day, instead of praying for some "spice" in my life, I was asking for tranquility. Okay, so that'd be taking things a tad too far, but I guess, just some peace and quite. Safety.

It's funny... *warning bells ringing* This post on Navneet's blog made me laugh. Another irony. Silences, was what he's written on. And very eloquently. The reason it made my smile, a sad smile, was 'cuz while I claim to hate silences with all my life, it's what I crave for most these days.

But then again, silences don't always have to imply the calm before a storm, I'm beginning to see that. I hate it when it's thrown on me. When I'm talking and people just shut up. I can understand when I'm boring them with the gory details of my life, it's one of the reasons I don't anymore, but when we're talking about them? General stuff? And they find something better to do, and then three hours later, when all the entertainment's worn off, they'll call up like nothing s ever happened.

Bullshit.

No, I'm not taking a shot at anyone, even though it might feel that way. I don't want an apology, in fact, it's the last thing I want. In fact, I don't even know what I want. What I'm supposed to want. Any clue?

I don't really hate anything or anyone. Sure, people have bullshitted me, and walked on me and out on me, but I don't really hate them. I hope I haven't done all that stuff to people, but even if I have, I really wish they didn't hate me, and knowing me, I've probably apologised. I don't think I really know how to hate... it's one of those things where I figure life's too short, and hating takes too much energy. So, I'd rather hate brinjals and too much socialising and silences.

It's very easy to make me believe it's all my fault, for some reason, and people around me take definite advantage of that. It's maddening, now that I realise it. Or maybe, it really is.

Blah. Blah person, blah life, and blah writing. Is blah and will die blah.

I finally found the ghazal I was looking for on one of my old cd's and I'm so damn glad. There was a 2 hour special on worldspace last night, so that was fantabulous.

I dunno what exactly I wanted to write about, but I guess i'll stop, this's been torture enough.

Lotsaluv.

P.S: Will blahhing really have two h's?? Or will there be one? Hmmmm...

It's official. I make a fool out of myself at least once each day. The other day, I called Tia Maria a who, and not a what. You knew it was a desert? Well, did you?

I usually don't mind it. I go a step forward and see to it, that it's done at least once every day. Not in that ( the above mentioned) way, though, but yeah, you get the point.

It usually is that way. When people pretend to know more than they really do, to save their "face" in public, it almost always backfires. It took a while for that to sink in, oh boy, did it.But it did, and now if I don't know what what is, I usually admit it.

I'll give you an example... When you have a or few holes in your socks, and they make you take off your shoes in school, for whatever reasons. It's hard to "hide" the holes, so what to do but wait to get embarassed? Tell them about it yourself. Them being your friends, and it being the hole(s). Say it aloud, with a you know... I just lovvre these socks I'm wearing so much, I hate to throw them away, 'cuz they're so soft. And that's all it'll take. You'll probably save a few more people from getting embarassed too.

People hardly ever believe you, when you say the truth. It's funny, sometimes. Specially around a person like me, whose every sentence is sarcastic and can almost always be intepreted in two ways. So, when I'm telling a person that the reason I want to hang up is 'cuz I don't want to talk to them , I'm being extremely funny. The berry bunny types. Lil do they know. (If your reading this, you know who you are, I WAS kidding, or was I ? )

When I'm saying I really do still own the soft toy I did at 10 years of age, or that I still do watch cartoons, or that on holidays I bathe only sometime in the evening, or that I used to write my name and *****'s name and draw hearts around it (Sis, if you even as much as squeak at that, you'll be the one mortified on Orkut. I've kept quite so far, just so that people know whose younger, Ahem) or that when I dig my nose I like to examine what I've found... people think your humoring them. About the later, I am, in case you didn't figure that out. I really am. I mean I guess I used to do it, back then in 2nd standard... when everyone does it, some even ate it, remember? I don't anymore. The figuring, not the eating. I never did eat, nor am I in the future, jezus! I really don't.

It takes a lot to know when I'm kidding and when I'm not. And I'm kinda proud of it, you know the whole mysterious aura thing.

Yours forever sthupitly.

P.S: It tastes kinda salty, na?