I am finally, after three years of fairly proficient but illegal driving, going to have a license tomorrow. 
Apart from the fact that Justin Bieber's voice has cracked, it might be the biggest achievement of the millennium. 


I found this today in my documents, 

Syd had that beautiful thing going where you could see he was tormented, heartbroken, insane, in complete agony of being alive, but still dignified about the whole thing. That's the thing about madness. It isn't crass and insecure. Like most things, and people that are 'normal'.

(Normal is in quotes apparently I am (pretending to be) an 'academic' and my Profs yell at me everyday to 'CAN'T USE TERMS LIGHTLY')  

(Academic is in quotes because it makes me feel uncomfortable)

I don't care if the sun don't shine 
And I don't care if nothing is mine 
And I don't care if I'm nervous with you 
I'll do my loving in the winter

I just finished reading The Taqwacores. I talked aloud through various Arabic interludes, often lifted my face to imagine the scene I just read played out in front of me and constantly imagined an encounter with the people from the book. I wept in most parts, not the kind you expect to happen(like in formulaic bullshit Romantic Comedy shit) or forget why in about two seconds. But the kind of weeping you cannot comprehend and cannot help. It's the kind of book you hold to your chest after it's over and with satisfaction comes the tragic sadness that you know exactly how things are going to turn out. It's the kind of book that makes you want to go to the first page and forget every single line so you could live it again, it's also the kind that makes you want to kick yourself for watching the movie first. It's the kind of book where you start talking like it does because it transported you with such truth to another world that inevitably becomes your own. It's the kind that tosses your heart and mind around and it absolutely totally fucking sucks when they're restored back into their own places and everything is as you knew it. 

I don't know why the blog says 11:21 but it's actually four o clock in the morning and the first day of the last month of the year. I don't even remember where this one went. Which is exactly why I know where it did. 

When i was young and shone like a crazy diamond I had this sweater. It had a shiny purple parachute on it. I think this was also about the time when I was reading those hard bound Enid Blyton books with a bunch of weird creatures on the covers. There was one about a Wishing Chair. The Wishing Chair belonged to a pair of brother and sister, whose routine Victorian life obviously bored them to death. Post supper and changing into pyjamas and brushing and cleaning and all that other hygiene and morality that Blyton tried to teach us (Didn't work on a SINGLE Indian kid I'm sure), the brother and sister took the wishing chair and whizzed to a strange land. One time they went to visit the woman who lived in a giant shoe. One time they met Moon-face and the pixie(Silver-toes...Silky-feet?) that lived on the Faraway tree. And one time they went to a land where they met Top-Cat. This one I think I imagained. Now whenever I wore the sweater(every minute of every hour) with the magic parachute, I would go to a land of unlimited cake and merry-go-rounds the king of which was Top Cat. He would be posing on a dustbin and all of that. His actual name, not his gangsta name, was Jaykumar. I remember hanging with J.K, walking around the house and running from the police. My mother recalls being severely worried because I used to insist that a second plate of food be laid out for J. The time I remember with him most was when my parents took me to, Shimla, I think it was. Or maybe it was Ranikhet. For days the two of us collected ladybirds and picked mushrooms(OH CRAP that must've been it). After about a week of being together, that seemed like an eternity, J.K decided to jump the cliff. Literally .This all sounds so incredibly stupid, but this is one of the clearest memories I have from being a kid. I remember being in near a cliff, and I remember an erect standing cat waving to me as he cheerfully hopped off the edge of the mountain. One one foot. Just like that.

My sister(the smaller kid on the right) is wearing it in this picture. The older one one with the mushroom hair and the perfect set of teeth would be me. 
I hope we haven't donated the parachute to paradise to an ungrateful cousin with more facebook friends than imaginary ones. 


I have a paper on Modernism to write in five hours, and all I've done for two hours is stare at this photograph. And imagine filming my friends as we trudged up a mountain in the snow, swearing, smoking and dreaming aloud. 
This is how it goes in my head and usually in life:
Mo(smokes continuously): Fuck work man, FUCK, this is the life, who cares about money man? I'm going to work till I'm 26, then I'm done with this shit man, Faaaak, who cares man
K: Abbe tu itna bada chooda kyun hai dude. NO ONE cares bhenchot, apna muh band nahin rakh sakta yeh baccha
Sha(crinkling eyes and smiling at the world): 'TNT...watch me exploodddddddde'
Sols:Yeah baby, you'll explode when you're inside me...
Me: You guys one day let's buy a house on a mountain, you guys! let's get a house on every mountain. Oh man I love the mountains. Okay you guys, whadyou think we should eat? LOOK there's a river!
Shaun: Chill out, S!
Sid: Dudes and ladies, I think I've got a vision for my movie...
V: Abbe oh, the only vision I can see is me kicking you in the balls like at Christmas. 
K: Chooda
Deba: We should get direwolves, and then we should go fishing, abbe abhi chalte hain main toh kehta hoon, LETS CONQUER THE WORLD!!
DJ: ............................hmmm......
M: WOW THIS PLACE IS SO PRETTY! OH WOW, LOOK THERE'S A SHOP THAT SELLS FUDGE, YAYYYYYY!
Nish: And we sang DIRGES in the dark!! Umm, okay Mohit, but technically...(starts something that no one gets)
Jess: *chuckling* this is fun...
Me to V: Bro, I feel like everythings....right, yknow
V: Knowwhatchamean bro. I feel like *insert movie reference that no one gets*
Dibbi: arre, Birds!
Deba: AAAAAAAAAA! Main Bhagwaan hoon!
TanTan(laughs):Abbe tum sab kitne bade gadhe ho, yaar
Mo:Abbe sid, bhenkelode, stop fucking smiling like that man, fuck man what the fuck is wrong with you
Bose: easy on the profanities, young man.
Almost everyone: SHUT UP BOSE!
Kotia looks at a campaign poster and rants about something no one cares about.
Sid: Bla blaaa
K: Pet se hai ma ka lund


I apologize for the absurd interruption above. 
It is four thirty in the morning and there is a shaadi ka band playing outside my house.
I need to find that sweater. Or maybe just those mushrooms. 

You know, If I had a tumblr page, you'd thinK I was cool. YOU WOULD WOULDN'T YOU? 
That Why this Kolaveri guy is freaking lucky I wish my life could change in one day on youtube so I could be the envy of people my age and everyone would want to marry me. Shruti Hassan seems to be quite into him in the video. Youtube is the new centre of the world. Today in attempts to distract myself from studying, I downloaded various application forms for various colleges in various countries to make it seem like I have drive. I pretended like I wanted to apply for things like 'Masters in Economic Law'. FUCK that is a scary sounding course. Much to my mother's annoyance I insisted that I must make dosas for the entire household, resulting in poisonous glares from my sister and my mother beating her head shrieking in Tamil. Even my dog looked like he wanted to cry. The upside of not knowing your mother tongue is that I have no clue what Ma is ranting about when she does. Sometimes I think she calls me things like 'pawn of the devil'. I dug out my music player which I decided needed to be fixed RIGHT NOW(kal kare so aj yo), and drove around town only for the guard at the Sony shop, in our not so friendly neighborhood Noida, look at me like I was asking to marry his daughter. Then I sat on my sister's bed and read out Catcher in the Rye aloud and told her things like 'Dude, you always have a choice to just NOT do things'. 'Man, always remember that hard work NEVER pays off'. I had a delightful conversation with my friend, parts of which sounded like this. Ah, to be young and stupid.

me: Maybe I'll go to Bombay....

12:13 PM   

I wish we lived in the 50's so we could just get like small jobs. Dreams were practical then

  D: youre mad

  youre not mad

 maybe im madme:we're all mad here

D:I think I oversimplify everything....me: I feel like there's a blanket on my head

  Like my brain is being covered :/

D: idunno

  things seems to make a lot of sense to me

 me: social constructs man, if only we knew what we ACTUALLY want

  normal things?

  things you read?

 D: no

  things

  just thingsme: whoa.
me:white people aren't real people.D:some.but they're white.
It's friday night and my BFFFF is in HER house and we're sober and this just feels wrong. Peeni Bharke gilass, man!!  I haven't read the paper in days. And I haven't opened a single coursebook, but its Delhi University. It's where things....work out. I''m going to top my Masters in Harboring Delusions. 
Doesn't the italic font make it seem like you're saying smart things?(handla glass-u, glassla scotch-u lalalalala....)

In other news,

YOU GOTTA FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT TO PAAAAAAAAAAAARTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

It is my final year of college. When I was eighteen and just getting in I decided what I wanted to be for the next three years. I wanted to be a hater. I hated college. While all my friends were smoking under trees talking about Plato, and throwing around a few words from a few classes they attended, here I was, stuck in a building full of women with better clothes, longer hair, and absolutely no capacity for conversation. My school of cool was empty. I was alone. I hardly went all of first year. And whenever I did, I mocked my course, pissed-off my professors, and wandered around feeling like the maverick I had always planned to be. What I didn't realize is that I was desperately sad. Being comfortable was never a choice. Accepting was never a way out. All I did for two years is cling on to a fading, weak sense of hate that kept up with my image, but completely came in the way of who I was. I was a lover, not a hater. My angst wasn't artistic or productive, it was just an amusement that kept me going for a year I hardly remember anything of.

In second year, I developed a different outlook. I smoked my time away. I smoked in the morning, in the afternoon, and before I knew it days became fluid and it was all the same. I would wake up in the morning, not know what to do, so I would get stoned and wait for the answers to come to me. Now because I was still sticking to being sad, the only answer would be getting into bed and waiting for night. Then, sometimes I would drink beer in the day with a few losers(one of them who I believed I was in love with) I used to hang out with because all the actual people were doing their shit. My luck ran out and I fucked up an entire year of college. This was when I abandoned the losers, embraced reality and took the path more taken. The void that was my very adopted essence had left me. I can still remember it being around in my chest for so long, but I have no idea how it felt. 

I went to class, smiled at people, raised my hand to ask endless questions and went back with the feeling of victory that you only get from learning something. With getting back to the books and strengthening drunk bonds with my friends, there was suddenly a moment when I realized that I was happy. You know you've finally grown up when you start being a person, and not a bunch of ideas. Even though the time has come that I look forward to the next day, I'm still absolutely clueless. I don't know how to do what I want. I only have intentions but no actions.

But I know I don't want to sit around being gloomy, feeling my heart break and thinking that was how it's supposed to be. I've been googling colleges all day and feeling upset because I doubt I will actually get in but feeling good at the same time about feeling bad. 

Why is it not possible to be religious and liberal at once? As a modern Hindu, I have never been able to believe in this shiny mess that it's boiled down to. There's no black, white, grey, it's all just nothing. It's power is not productive or reductive,just vague. Which is why I just told Ma that I'm deeply fascinated with Islam and she is now getting physically hysterical.

It's probably because of listening to the coolest people in the entire world and beyond. I would do anything to have this much spunk. 

I finally had an academic epiphany reading Foucalt. 
Now I am going to google Chinese buffets. 

(None of the above was an indication not to smoke pot.)

(I know I'm incredibly repetitive. I'm not going to apologize about it because every time I do, I want to backspace and add a 'fuck you'. Despite not wanting to publish this I will, cause all day I have been singing 'Be what you wanna be...taking things the way they come lalalala'. If you have to google this shit- SHAME ON YOU)

Also. this black and orange really has to go.


Jeff man, I wish I could tear my heart out and give it to you. 

I haven't had an academic epiphany in a while. It's maybe because I have been refusing to read, or do any work at all. I am also past the time in which I believed that my laziness would develop a hidden genius.
Maybe my adolescence is finally passing. It makes me sad.
Par jab rak Rafi aur rum hai, toh kya gham hai.

So my mom's friend in Philippines found my blog, scoured and swallowed it, and made a plan to call my mother for absolute revelations about the daughter she has raised. But my mother, disapproving but not ignorant, gave her best bud from high school a little pep talk about being a cool mom.

Nothing much has changed except I have holidays for a week, and have been stuffing my face and parading around the Durga Puja pandal in shorts with cousin(immediately misunderstood to be my boyfriend inviting stink eyes from aunties) looking for things to eat. I would say now that while we do this we are usually stoned but then my mom's friend from Brazil might have a problem, and some blog visitors have mentioned that they find my intoxicated rants a little....what was it?.....oh yes, mundane. 

Hmmm. What can I say, I'm a one way motorway.

My extended family, the Bengalis I grew up with, The Sens, came for their occasional Durga Puja visit.

The Sens used to live one floor above us when I was growing up.
There are six small sens(all teenagers-which is often a point in the question of why I spend every waking moment with them while they're here) and their parents.

Father Sen is a guitarist and plays in one of the biggest bands in the country. So outside our perfectly normal household complete with grandparents and god-fearing mom and dad, was SenWoodstock. My father used to run upstairs for a quick drink, my mother used to waddle slowly up for more, and Suks and I used to wander around the house curiously-stepping over drunk people in boxers. Since the Sens are a musical family, every night we used to sit down to play guitar and sing and eat pork. Now I am allowed the additional privilege of drinking.

I remember one day about ten years back when it was my sister's turn, she chose that 'Pari hoon main' song, and was absolutely horrific. Instinctively, I laughed out loud- as you do when people sing badly. What I got in return was not a following echo of laughter but surprised looks from all the Sens(some being five years old then). I was taught then never to laugh when someone sings. I was taught then to always love any art, to appreciate everything that is ever said to you, or happens to you. I was told that 'To include yourself is to live happy, Sharanya.'. I told this to Father Sen a couple of days ago, and he was taken aback with his own wisdom and got a little upset about the passing of this youth-only to pour me another drink.

I have nothing more to say except I cleaned and painted my room and changed my blog url and I like both new things.

I also am aiming and hoping and praying to be able to go to the mountains this weekend.

OH, AND I also went to the Formula one opening all dressed up and uncomfortable but uncontrollably excited and ran around the VIP section yelling in a frenzy caused partly by downing bottles of Red Bull due to the lack of any water.
Capitalism slowly kills. And I can't say that I hate it.