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. 

I've been dancing around to this video for about three hours. Glee FTW. 
(DO NOT watch or search for the original. It's by this hot piece of ass )
My not-so-well planned holiday with my friends to sunny beaches and boys and booze and bliss is crumbling in front of me. Life,is abysmal.
Smoke break. From nothing at all.
The times they are a wastin'.

My mother has built a bed for my dog for which he has abandoned mine.

I am unable to deal with this abandonment.

Mega Death

It is not only a person's life that is important, but also his/her death. The ancient Romans believed that the way you DIED can conquer the way you lived. According to Plutarch- Mark Antony killed himself by falling on his sword- going down in history as the greatest Roman general that ever lived. 
Kurt Kobain wouldn't be what he was to me in high school if he hadn't allegedly shot himself. Suppose he had slipped from the top of a staircase one morning and crashed his head. Then would anyone think- 'That guy knew pain, man'
With the lights out, it's less dangerous


Shakespeare often talks about triumph in death. A great man lives a great life, and dies a great death. His end - is the rest of his life. I know psychology says that suicide is downright cowardly, but why do life takers become heroic leaving us not only with our own anguish, but forcing to reflect on theirs. It is not death, but the manner of death that makes a point, creates an impact.
Suicide is painless 
It brings on many changes 


This movie takes twisted to a new level. I wasn't aware that Robin Williams could be scary. 



I don't particularly like studying psychology. I don't like knowing that if i do THIS, then I have a particular kind of problem. With a technical term to it. What if someone just wants to be a person, and not a list of mental disorders. 
But my therapist(ex) is freakin god sent and I guess I'm glad some people are studying it. 

The only thing worse than a bad throat is gargling to get rid of  it. 

My friend just told me that what she wants to do on her birthday is watch sex and the city and get 'take out'. 
I know I don't love America, but I know I live it. It's all rather confusing.

This is bloody brilliant.

http://www.tehelka.com/story_main47.asp?filename=Ne131110Damn.asp

Virtual Insanity

I just watched The Social Network. Mark Zuckerberg is insane. 
I have all the symptoms of an honest facebook victim- I know everyone from 'somewhere'. I check first thing in the morning-last thing in the night. I refresh my home page at least three times when I've logged in. At my worst times of addiction, I have found myself deep into the night staring at a complete stranger's face-physically incapable of clicking the logout button. I curse facebook ON facebook.
Everything is fast and pretty and in your face and it's always calling on you to click and know what it's saying. You can be anybody. Know anybody. 
What should take a second continues for endless hours.
You don't need to worry about making a first impression anymore. You've already made one.
Everyone else's life is just a click away. As is yours.
I cannot decide if facebook is good or evil, but what I do know that is a complete and absolute social and psychological revolution. For better,  or for worse.
When I know how to put this better, I will.
And please don't tell me that you're ON facebook but it 'doesn't matter'. I'm too deep inside to buy that shit.

Jesse Eisenberg is pretty damn good.

The world is not a small place. Facebook is.
Now if you will excuse me, I need to go update my status. 

It's Saturday Night and I can't feel it getting hot. After making and re-making several plans with my friends for regular weekend getting drunk I still find myself on my chair looking at the computer for something exciting to happen.
Oh, but something exciting DID happen. 

My house has that automatic lock system-the kind of door that locks as soon as you shut it. So at least twice a month, me, my sister or my mom- whom I inherit my absent mindedness from-get locked out of the house. Mostly it happens because my dog makes a run for it as soon as he gets the chance and all three of us-after much screaming and blaming each other-run after him. Three women and a mad dog locked out of the house waiting for rescue.
In case of this very frequent occurrence, we leave a duplicate key in our neighbor's house. TWO pairs of keys actually. 
It happened again today. I was talking on my phone to some damned insurance policy caller when I walked out with my dog slamming my door behind me. Realizing immediately what I had done I called my mom telling her to return NOW because I was in a fix. 
My mother and my sister decided to let me 'learn a lesson' so it was me and my beagle-hand in paw-all alone against the world.
This isnt the exciting part.


We had to go look for a key dude but we only found a number. A total sport, keydude decided to abandon dinner( unlike my OWN mother) and come save me. He got along with him- UNIMAGINABLY HOT son plus assistant.  I don't even remember for how long I sat in the lobby of my house waiting for him to make a new key. But what I did know, is that I had fallen in love.
People tell me that I don't know real love, because it happens to me around in around ten minutes, almost every day. Goes as quickly too. The REAL lovers, the ones I've been with-were epic failures, the ten minute ones are the ones worth remembering. 
I had felt it before. It was the same sudden happiness and swooping in the stomach and non-existence of time. Ek pal mein zindagi sorts.
My sister immediately knew what I was doing and was rather indignant and said 'OMG man sharanya. you're totally G' 
G would be gross. Like J is jealous and R is radical/remarkable/raunchy. anything you like.
For some time no one said anything but then my mom decided to do her school teacher routine. She asked him if he was training to become a key maker and he told her confidently that he had mastered the art when he was ten and was now studying and working. My mom, a little embarrassed at realizing he had probably understood all the smart-ass comments she was making in English said 'very good beta.padhai tho karni chahiye'. He then told her a story of how he landed his job (He repairs printers. A printer-mechanic) which I KNEW was meant for me-listening keenly from the corner. My mother listened, polite and bored. She doesn't understand too much hindi and screams things that 'thok doongi!' on the road when anyone is pissing her off. She doesn't like to go with my usual 'chutiya' or 'kya hai'. She says it is inappropriate and not ladylike. 
He just sat there smiling at our strange happiness of being locked out of the house and my mad mother and my mad dog playing a mad game. And I sat there being rather obvious in my infatuation and hoping the door NEVER opens because when it does, his door will be shut forever. I asked them if they wanted water, tea even and pretended to not understand how to unlock the door so he taught me but stopped when his father-the key dude-gave me a murderous look that said 'stop pretending to be stupid bitch, i'm hungry.'
It sucks. Almost all the guys I meet are idiots. The usual recitation of philosophy, politics and drunk stories from here and there was NOTHING in comparison to the silent smiling of key dude's son. I mean sure, all the knowledge of Nietzsche, Shakespeare, and girls and drugs in Thailand is great but they just don't got it like he do.
Social stigma works in a lot of pissing-off ways.
Now he is gone back to his humble abode and I am still thinking about him in mine. I don't know how to explain it. WHICH is why I know it was true. 




I used to think fish were peaceful but after I got them I knew I was wrong. There is continuous war in my tank. Big fish does literally eat small fish.
I have three- a parrot, a jewel and a blue peacock. 
The peacock is about one a half times the size of the other two and spends all it's time chasing them. My parrot's tail now looks like a mowhawk and the jewel only stays in one corner avoiding him. He has also moved the plants around and dug himself a house in the gravel under the rock I have put in the fish tank, marking his territory but not letting anyone mark theirs.
And as I saw the parrot shivering with fear, and the jewel-fierce but small-shrouded in a corner looking most annoyed I realized something needed to do be done about this godforsaken big blue peacock.
There is no place for a tyrant even in a 3 feet by 2 feet world. 
And no, fish aren't boring or stupid. If you think that yours are, you probably have goldfish or some such or don't spend enough time with them.


I forgot to mention that the man with the key to my heart had arms like Achilles.