Miksang and the fine art of Photography

I have no hope, do I?
1.40 a.m . and here I am blogging.
What was I doing through the rest of the day?
Never mind.

I'm doing a photography course in college which I very excited about.
Creative people need newer outlets, right?
So I draw the curtians, pull the blanket and switch off the light.
My mind wanders.
The song from Coke's ad plays in my head. Aaj ki raat, koi aane ko hai.
The song somehow makes sense to me. Don't ask me to explain.
An image of the scarlet pleated pants I saw at Zara flash before my eyes. I should have just bought them, no?
They were fucking gorgeous.
I hear my brother singing somehwere in the background. I didn't know bathroom singers come alive at this time. Some of us are trying to sleep people!
Then I start to think of the jeggings I bought. I can't wait for it to be tomorrow. Only and only so I can wear them and walk around and take pictures.
And suddenly, I am wide awake.
Damn you, Miksang. You're the real cause of my insomnia.

Our assignment involves taking pictures with the unconscious mind.
On most days, my conscious mind is only half awake.
Having said that, I feel like Miksang was created for people like me.

The assignment is due tomorrow and I know I should have taken pictures a long time ago, but it's been a busy, busy week.
So I'm going to step out early in the morning and walk around places in this city I love the most.
The very thought of it makes me love the world a little more.

Until then, you treat your eyes to previously taken pictures that now qualify as Miksang.

Can you guess which one is my favourite?

A little birdie named Item

Much too much awesomeness. Much 'two' much.
The new year is here with its shine and sparkle, and let's just say, I'm very excited.
It's graduation taaaaayme.
Two months, baby.

Am I happy?
<refer to the above>
Do I have no other feelings?
<refer to the line below>

I have too much love in my heart for this city.
Well, it has given me a lot.
Yes, it's cheesy mode for now.
But the bird must fly out of her nests to explore other nests and meet other birds and eat other worms.
It is time.

So, I'm going to go on a University googling spree.
I've already spoken to a few people, who have provided me with very sane advice on which Unis to apply to.
May be I will go abroad, may be I won't.
I suddenly have the urge to stay in India for a bit.
Before I find saxy husband and fly off to a land far, far away.

Too much daydreaminess for now.
You know, I'm going to miss college.
I never thought I'd say that.
Stupid KC made me fall in love.

Anyhow, I'm very excited for Grad-day, eventhough it is far-far away.
Sexy black robes and even sexier dresses underneath.
It will be uber-awesome.
I'm telling you.

Happy 2011, y'all!

Sell your soul for favourite quotes!

You know those shady love stories where you chase somebody for sooooo long and realise when you're taking saat pheras around the fire that you are actually in love with your best friend, who's cat also treats you like a part of the family. Yes *that* friend who's been around for so long that you can't even remember what life was like without him. And then you turn around one-eighty degrees, make a dramatic exit from your own wedding, red saree flowing, strands of hair flying, gold jewellery clanking, while the band-baja wala suddenly stops playing the shehnai. All the people stand up and look at you pretending to be surprised while they're actually wondering, 'Omg does the bride's exit mean, we get absolutely no free food?'

But that is not the point of this story. What happens is that right after the bride goes running out she gets into the first cab she finds and tells the cabbie to take her to the airport/ bus stop/ station where her best friend (secretly her lover) is leaving for a fake trip to Ghaziabad/ Ambala/ Tiruchirapalli to set up a papad factory. Just when the train arrives he sees her running dramatically towards him. He throws his bag and runs towards her in slow motion. In the next scene they're siting by the same fire, with the same pandit, the same psychobabble, and the same red saree (What a cheapskate the director is). The only different thing is that, there are no guests in this wedding. They already ate free food at the previous one. So they're basically not invited. 

Aye! Shady guests are trying to get crash this blog post again! Getting to the point.The favourite quotes section on Facebook has always been around, looking at me lovingly, affectionately and patiently, while I shamelessly ignored it and flirted with every other application there was. Now that I have rediscovered it's awesomeness, I'm taking this relationship to a whole new level.

I may sound uber cool as I throw phrases like 'a whole new level', but truth be told it is just another phrase for stalkerishness. Let me explain a typical conversation between me and my friend Parinita, from Improper Conduct (we have just entered into an It's complicated relationship on FB, btw).

Me: <Psychobabble at it's best>

Pari: HAHAHA!

Me: Favourite quotes? ^_^

Didn't get eeeet? Haw :O Let me explain.

Basically for every funny thing I say, I torture her to put it up in her favourite quotes section.

Currently, the success rate is 2 to 1,00,000. Yes, that funny and thaaaaat stalkerish I am.

Anywaaaaaay, so we're both walking to the station today and we're making a list of tacky things to do on my birthday (next blog post that =D ), so I suggest that we sit on the footpath and take shots. Every shot should be followed by a very tacky secret. Then I go on to explain with an example.

Me: Saaaay, when I was ten or something, I thought Suniel Shetty was hot. For a day.

Pari: Hahahahaha! Don't tell anyone my tacky secret.

Me: What? What? What?

Pari: When I was a kid, I thought Jitendra was hot! (And I laugh as I type this!)

Me: If and when I find you an item, I will ask him to dress in all white and ask you out! I will also get him to play a tacky Jitendra film song in the background!

When I told her about my very tacky secret, part of me was relieved because I finally got it out. Another part of me regretted it deeply. For once, *she* screamed 'favourite quotes!' and I wasn't sure if I wanted the world to know this about me. On the other hand, with my new found commitment to the favourite quotes section, it seemed stupid to let this opportunity go to waste. I was torn.

I decided to put my love interest first. Who cares what the world thinks when he is by my side? The quote must go up!

I was super worried she would change her mind by the time she got home. So I took control of the situation.

Enter: Reverse Psychology.

Me: You *cannot* put this up!

Pari: I *so* can!

Me: Pari, I will *die* of embarassment.

Pari: Yea, that is the point!!

Me: No, Pari, No!

Pari: Yes! Yes! Yes!

My plan worked like magic. By the time I came home, there I was, smiling back at me from her favourite quotes. That didn't make any sense, no? Well, as long as you know what I'm trying to say, you grammar whore!

Aaaaanyway, the point is, I am made of awesome and there is no denying that.

To explain this further, I'd like to cite another example.

I was talking to Pranav from For The Wine, yesterday and we were discussing our college festival and all the drama that comes with it.

Me: And N was telling me that M thinks, the fest is her pitajee ka property!

P: Haha! Yes, I've hearing the same thing over and over again.

Me: I was very offended when I heard that.

P: Ouch. Why?

Me: Chauvinism has sunk to every level! Why can't the fest be Matajee ka property?!

P: Hahahahahaha!

Me: Favourite quotes!

And awesomeness that he is, actually went and put my quote up there! Two three tear drops came rolling down my eyes.

Anywaaay, speaking of coolness, awesomeness, (insert 4-5 synonyms here), Parinita and I decided to tell you only half the truth! We conveniently changed some of our quotes to make them a little cooler than they sounded then.

Pari: Wait that didn't sound right!

Me: Oh yea!

Pari: (thinking deeply)

Me: Here's an idea.

Pari: Say say say!

Me: Let's rig our favourite quotes!

Pari: Hahaha! I'm not putting that up but!

Post IV blues.

It's been too long, sir. Waaaaay too long. And what better time that the day before your prelims, to revisit? It's been eventful. It's been uneventful. It's been many things.

Funny, I haven't spoken about the trip at all. With my whole anti-college phase going on, I didn't think I'd be happy sitting in a train with 120 people, who I have to try very hard not to slap. Yes, I sometimes feel I'm cooler than a lot of people. Deal with it.
You know what I like the most about these college trips? They're absolutely random. You're packing your bag, calling all of your friends, making mental notes about what you're going to do. And then bam! The trip happens. And everything goes against your little plan. Sometimes it's just disastrous. But most of the time it's turns out to be surprisingly awesome.

I'm walking towards the hotel lobby from the gardens. There is a little lake on the way, with very noisy ducks inside. They were on sugar rush, I suppose (or whatever they get high on) and kept me distracted for a while. Good thing I didn't notice the empty swing that kept uniformly moving until I was almost out of the darkness. What is so strange about an empty swing moving in the darkness? Well, creepy to say the least, especially if the one next to it, isn't moving at all. Also, I should tell you this. There was no wind. Not even a bit.
I wanted to scream, but I ran instead. Adrenaline rush. All the way till I reached my room. Surely, I couldn't have imagined it. I go around telling the story. Ghost stories never fail to fascinate, no? At two a.m. in the morning, eight of us, in the middle of a 'tales of the Satan' session decide, nothing could possibly make this more fun than going ghost hunting at the hour of the Satan. What follows is a lot of screaming, nail biting, false alarms and panic attacks on the way to the scene of errr...horror.
The next day we discovered that the swing continues to move for atleast fifteen minutes after the swinger(what are they called) gets off the swing. But that night, we were so caught up in the frenzy, we lost every bit of our reasoning. And I'm so glad we did. We had one heck of an adventurous night.

Nothing beats drunks nights though. One minute you're in your room having shots and woo-ing like a mad woman and the next minute, you are... Okay, what happened next minute? Why won't somebody tell me? Actually you'd rather not. I don't want in detailed stories of how I embarrased myself. Let's just say two boys weren't enough to drag me back to my room. It took fours of them, a girl and a very awkward conversation in the lift. Oh btw, I was asleep when this happened. So I am in complete denial about all of this.
Clearly they couln't decide who was worse? A very annoying, shrill, shrieky, woman who kept wooooo-ing at random intervals, said way too many things, most of which made no sense at all, and embarrased a lot of other people by telling them who she wanted to set them up with (I am a matchmaker when I'm drunk). Also, I fell asleep on a random bench, somehwere along the way, with my hair all over my face. A lot of people mistook me for a ghost. Six and half shots of vodka. Two and a half shots of gin. Apparently, there is a lot alcohol can make you do.

And then I bonded with nice people, crashed random parties, spoke to a lot of people I had never spoken to before. I also danced around in circles like a mad woman on DJ night and scandalised every onlooker.

And I had decided none of this when I was packing.

I had my low-days and 'I want to kill somebody now' moments. I also, had my 'why did I come for this stupid trip?' moments.

But almost a month after the trip is over, the sweet aftertaste is all that remains.

Because I belong here.

The past two years have been a journey of sorts.
Miracles happen.
Sometimes even when you don't believe in them.
Mass media is something I've wanted to since I was 14.
At every stage in your life, you look at those above you and imagine living a life like theirs.
I'd look at the Xaviers' kids below my house in their kurtas, jholas and unruly hair and I just knew they belonged to BMM.
I couldn't wait to get to college, because I wanted my life to be just like theirs.

Sometimes, I still wake up in the morning feeling awestruck.
And rather happy.
As it turns out, my life is just the way I wanted it to be.
So I'm not your regular kurta and jhola girl.
I'm more of the kurta, jhola with a million blinding accessories girl.
But I love every bit of who I am and what I do.
I love every bit of what I see.
I love every bit of what I learn and I'm not even talking about the academics here.

Well, I am feeling particularly optimistic today.
But I'd be lying if I said there has not been a day when I've wanted to throw this life away and go off to another place.
A few projects have been sheer torture.
There have been days when sleep is a far off dream.
There have been times when I have had to work for hours on an end with some of the most uncooperative people you will ever meet.
I've also been manipulated and watched people grab the spotlight for something I spent hours on.

My first semester hasn't exactly been the sort of experience I'd want to gush about.
New place, new people, meaningless conversations and polite laughs.
It's an awful feeling to have to drag your feet every morning to a place you so despise.

But none of it matters anymore.
The memories I have of the semesters after the first, have more than made up for it.
I've had a chance to explore issues I care so deeply about.
I've had a chance to learn things about myself, I can't imagine my life without.

And I've  met some great people.
The sort who I can look at when somebody stands up and says the most amusing words and share a stifled laugh.
The sort who get my totally ridiculous sense of humour and choose not to judge me for it.
The kind who'd listen to me rant endlessly about things they can't even bothered about.
All that really matters at the end of the day, is that I finally feel like I belong here.
And I look forward to every day because I know it's going to be better than the one that's gone.

Stills in High Heels

Ooooooommmmmgggggggggg today was awesome!
So what if I have made it home with smelly clothes, a mind that is too tired to function, eyes that for once are overwhelmed with the display of colours, legs that are silently abusing me for the torture they have been subjected to and a stomach that has survived up till now on just ONE paratha? *faints*

Today I got a glimpse of how I want the rest of my life to be.

Well, you do know that Blitzkrieg is coming up and I haven't exactly been giving up my goodnight sleep over it or putting everything else on hold just so I can be a part of the process. Of course, there is my Magazine Committee, but we're a really lazy lot.

Now that the photography event has come along, I suddenly find myself more enthused about Blitz than I ever was!

7 models, 7 photographers, an in-studio shoot, a ramp show, haute couture, a make up artist, a hair stylist and a look designer.
Do you want to guess what role I am going to play in this little reality show of our own?
Well no points for guessing right answer.

So let me tell you how we went about it. The first thing we did was making them sit and giving them a big talk. Shivam used fancy words like haute couture, and quotes which nobody understood, while dropping in names of famous photographers every now and then to make the audience go wow. then we took them to the boutique so they could pick their outfits. One for the photoshoot and one for the ramp.

So what I had to do was, have a little talk with each of the models ask them the sort of look they wanted, explain the look I thought would suit them, and then watch the Bridezillas in the making completely ransack the boutique to an extent that it resembled a godown filled with way too many people for it's own good.

But it was so much fun I tell you! Just looking at the stuff there was therapeutic. I loved the whole process of putting their outfit together, picking out their accessories, and advising them on the sort of shoes they should wear. I love how they'd look at me all wide-eyed and mouth open, like I was giving them the most life-changing advice. I loved how there were piles of clothes EVERYWHERE. I loved how the clueless guys picked up the most atrocious outfits and hated me for telling them so. I loved how we took six whole hours to pick just two outfits for each model. But nothing, absolutely nothing beats the happy faces of the models when they left the boutique feeling absolutely special.

So I'm going to say this one more time.
Today was the sax.
Tomorrow is going to be even better!

Because I like it here.

You know how you expect your typical first day at work to be, right?

You go home late wondering why you came here in the first place...

If all female bosses intentionally model themselves on Meryl Steep from 'The Devil wears Prada'...

And if work is all about being overworked and underpaid.

But it sort of helps if you're prepared for the worst.

It kind of turns your average first day to a not-so-average first day.

Infact, I left the office feeling -Wow! That wasn't bad at all.

For a while, all I have been doing is, going to college, pretending to take down notes, delaying all my projects, wasting way too much time on the phone, letting Facebook take over my life and hanging out with friends a little more than I should.

And that feeling of guilt....

Well. it had been lingering for a while now.

And then Indiatimes came along.

Ya, I know... not the most exciting place to work, but for beginners, believe me it's fab.

If you get to do something other than serving coffee and xeroxing papers, consider yourself very lucky.

And I am getting to do more than that.

I get to upload articles and actually be a part of my process.

Isn't it wonderful, the feeling that your opinion is actually counted?

Besides, the people also seem very nice.

Who wants to work in an office full of bitchy, condescending people right?

The loos are clean and the coffee is aaamaaazing!

Plus, one of my friends is working in the Zoom office, which is right opposite my office.

So I have nothing to complain about! :)

Ok, not nothing.

I do hate the fact that there are waaaay too many dogs in the compound.

Ah well! That I'm going to have to deal with.

That's all for now Cupcakes!

Merry X'ams and Happy New year!

Blitzkrieg, COWS and the Magazine Committee.

For those of you who don't know what Blitzkrieg is, slap yourself 200 times before going further into this post.
Now let me explain. It's a college festival.
Actually calling it 'A' college festival is demeaning it to some extent.
So I'm going to put it this way-
It is 'The' College Festival.
Plus it is a BMM fest.
So brownie points for that.

For some other people it is the highlight of their academic year.
They start making decisions about it a year in advance and basically have nothing else to discuss until Blitz comes around, after which the sole focus of their life is to start preparing for the next Blitzkrieg.
I appreciate such people. I really do.
If it weren't for them we wouldn't have a fest at all.
I am however pleased to inform all of you that I have a life and Blitzkrieg is only occupying 1/50 of my mind space right now.
That in no way means I'm not going to work for Blitz.
I am, and whole heartedly because it sounds like way too much fun.

The only thing that was stopping was the fact that I was in a committee that was totally not working for me.
It's called the COWS committee by the way.
Before you start snickering let me tell you what the full form is.
Closing, Opening, Workshops and Seminars.
Doesn't sound so bad eh?
Well it isn't.
I worked for it last year and had quite a good time.
But this year I kept feeling so unmotivated.
At the same time I couldn't really find another committee that really works for me.

And then the Magazine Committee came along.
Could I ask for something better?
Could I?
It's so much fun to let others do all the difficult work while you just watch them, smirk and write about all of it.
It makes Blitzkrieg so much more exciting.
So from now on I stalk meetings, get updates from everyone, get the inside gossip, write funny articles, my opinion on the different events (like I'm some important journalist and my opinion really matters), have my own Fashion Page, stalk hot guys from other colleges, put all of it in a magazine that I have put my sweat and blood into, plus hold meetings and boss over my juniors.

So all I have to say is Blitzkrieg 2010 here I come :D

Things I like the most about College Fests

• Lots and lots of Eye candy. You know how shady the guys in KC are? You know how deprived our eyes are of the good stuff? Don't just sit there in front of your computer screens and nod because you'll never know!
 

• No lectures!Yea that's right! No lectures. They get cancelled so as to encourage full participation.
 

• How everyone tries to look their best and dresses exceptionally well. I love all the fashion statements (and some disasters) I get to see.
 

• Unlimited Gossip. You know how BMM is filled with girls? And how most of the guys act like girls anyway? And you know what happens when people who despise each other have to work together for days? You get the point right? 

• Catfights! Need I explain why? :)

• Well lots of fab events to particpate in.
 

• Lots of Fabulous Prices as well.
 

• And freebies while the events are going on! Oh, how I love getting things I don't have to pay for!\
•  
• Such a great way to socialise with other colleges.

• Such a great way to watch creatures from other college in a habitat other than their own. Then make fun of them and remind yourself how much better the people from your college actually are. Believe me, everytime I see people from colleges whose names I don't want to mention here, I fall in love with every living creature from KC.

• The unlimited oppurtunitity to scream your lungs out. (Read: Cheer!)

• Actually win brownie points for that! (Can you believe the PR event depends solely on how much you can cheer for your contingent?)

• Act like ghaatis. Ever gone to shady cinemas to watch third grade Bollywood flicks? Seen the way people hoot and scream? Well fests make us behave a little bit like that. So everytime that shady guy from lets call it We-are-the-Losers College would come on stage to strut his stuff ( Mind you the guy was short. round and chose to wear sunglasses inside the audi) , E and I would start screaming things like - Abey Itam and  Hot stuff take that shirt off.
 

• And the fact that we're the best Contigent and we ALWAYS win :D Go Chacha Chaudhary!

P.S. Chacha Chaudhary was the name they gave our contigent. So don't you dare judge me for writing that!