Tis the season, apparently

I know this has nothing to do with jingle bells or Christmas spirit but I have been watching it for the past two years on the 25th of December.

I wish Guy Ritchie would adopt me and teach me everything he knows. WHAT a Bad-ass. 

Merry Christmas. It took me about thirty minutes to type this as I'm supah wasted but I wish everyone love,light and miracles.

Today I went to visit my incredible canine friends at Friendicoes, but because of my usual lack of a camera (except for the one on my phone for which the cable is god knows where) I have no photographs. I also do not have a thousand words. 

2011 is the year of taking more pictures. 

I have posted about this movie before and I know I might seem of finite variety but it makes me SO HAPPY.  I am indeed certain that it happens all the time.


I just got driven home in really scary supernatural fog, and can't help but worry if the person who dropped me is home and alive. It was intense, nonetheless. 
Despite all my negative winter apprehensions, I think I love Delhi in the cold.
If jolly translates to drastically drunk, then tis definitely the season. 
I am taking this particular line too seriously as an excuse to not study at all about a week before my exams and keep chillin like a villain.
Time to pass out. It's been emotional. 

About ten minutes back I had one of those moments in which you forget about your life and are seized by an epiphanic happiness that cannot be explained. I was looking at my computer looking at this man's face 

(Leonard Cohen in his young pictures is just yummy. I would love to grow old and drunk with him)

when suddenly I was grinning like an idiot and my head felt light and my heart sailed away, like the way you feel the first time you smell the hills while driving up to them. This lasted exactly forty seconds. 

Speaking of surreal, I would be betraying my self important self if I didn't write about this. At the Jazz Festival thing, I met someone. He was visiting from Germany as the bassist in one of the bands. All it took was one Almost Famous van ride with the band and a drunken after-party(SO much free wine) for me to learn that intimacy doesn't at all depend on language,color, time or distance. Sometimes it takes a dream sequence(it ended as quickly as it had begun) to make you believe that the world could maybe be right. 

I will stop being overtly cheesy now. (To all girlfriends- more later!)

Despite all the getting high with a little help from my friends over bonfires and unceasing swearing, I had to wake up to the real world. Sometimes, only sometimes, ignorance could be better.

http://www.tehelka.com/story_main48.asp?filename=Ne251210Coverstory.asp

Tehelka Magazine uncovers a cruelty that only human beings that could be capable of. It's devastating, I don't even know what to say.

This is one of those days that I've been at the computer so long that I feel like my eyes and the screen are one. My biggest problem with the internet is that it makes you believe that you can be in more than one place at once. 

Speaking of which, here is something Zadie Smith wrote on my favorite topic of debate in the whole wide world. (starts with face ends with book)

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2010/nov/25/generation-why/

All the linking is because I am lazy and presently incapable of writing anything myself.

I realized today that we see our blogs like we see our bodies( when i say we, i mean me and people like me). It never looks good enough. Excessive examination makes it worse. Everyone else's seems better. Also,with apologies to my loyal friend blogger, I must say that tumblr has some pretty cool fancy shit going on. 

Gone back to not reading and procrastinating like a dingbat. All my friends from out of town have decided to return (with massive amounts of whiskey from duty free, and constant guilt trips of ' abbe main itne din baad aaya hoon yaar!!') about a fortnight before my exams start. All curses are of course directed at the morons at Delhi University exam planning committee whateverthefuck who insist on trying to ruin our December every year. Emphasis on trying.Thanks to our irresponsible determination to party, it ain't gonna happen bitchezz!! I am not going to pass on the opportunity to say my favorite combination of three words in the English language. 

FUCK THIS SHIT!! :D

After an absolutely surreal weekend at an annual Jazz festival at Delhi of drinking and more drinking, getting back to college was harder than ever. The Jazz fest is a perfect collaboration between artists and capitalists, which explains it's constant success. Volunteering is awesome fun because we get in for free and get to chill with the bands(sometimes a young, intensely hot bassist from across the continent who is kind of interested in you shows up). Chunni and I, excited as ever to be part of anything musical, were lurking in corners, smoking cigarettes, checking out random people, giving each other the 'look,cool person/thing' signal and getting inexplicably high with every coming moment.
I have a lot of friends, but C is my only bro. We're so different, but that becomes the whole point. We don't judge, we just party. You can only know a bro when you have one. She is to me what Seth Rogen is to James Franco, Kumar is to Harold, Vince and the guys are to each other, Timbaland is to Justin Timberlake, Roger Waters was to David Gilmour.

You and me, bro. Forever and for always.

My biggest problem with being a wastrel literature student is that I stop reading, because there is so much I am supposed to read. I used to think I hated poetry and didn't understand it. This man, poet and intense romantic, is one of my favorite things about going to college.

At a time when white bed covers were used on the wedding night to prove a woman's virginity, John Donne went on to defy norms on love, religion, and existence. He wrote about love as the combination of affectation and sex. He said it was unachievable without either. He was also one of the very first ambassadors of angst, which explains why I like him so much.

It were but madness now to impart
      The skill of specular stone,
When he, which can have learn'd the art
      To cut it, can find none.

Speaking of angst, on this very day about forty seven years ago, a man was born who went ahead to change every single adolescent life for all of time to come. 

Happy Birthday Jim. 

This is the first song and video by The Doors I ever watched. I was nine and we were at my uncle's house in Bangalore. He was such a raving lunatic that I couldn't help but love him. So I found my will to be weird.