Frayed Dreams

Another set of dreams,
I seamlessly spin.
With smoke, dust and smoke,
They fade into a night so grim.

I seek the light.
I chase the day.
I begin to wonder,
If I'm running or running away?

As the dust and smoke,
Start to fade away,
I live in wonder and amazement,
Are all hopes meant to fray?

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!

Kitschy dreams

If there is something I hate more than people who wear grey and cream together, is being absolutely jobless. Staring into space. Changing channels on the television. Refreshing my Facebook page again and again. It makes me feel like a married aunty whose sits around waiting for her husband to get back from work. And I don’t have a husband also. You see where this is going?

So a while ago, when Wastey tells me there is work opportunity for the two of us, I put on my prettiest shoes and run towards my new workplace in slow motion. Instant love connection happened. And I’ve been running to work and college and back to work ever since. While I do miss randomly hanging out after college, I could not be happier.

Working here also makes me feel a little Konkona SenSharma in Wake Up Sid. I always envisioned that kind of life for myself. Living independently and writing about things I love the most. I’m graduating in six months. May be that life is not so far away.

Speaking of Wake Up Sid and husband, I almost fell in love with Ranbir Kapoor every time he stepped out with his camera.

Then again, there are a lot of things about the movie that made me fall in love. Remember Konkona’s off-white kurta with the little camels all over it? I liked it so much I painted my very own version of that kurta. Except, I replaced the camels with ‘banjaaran’. I love being gypsy-ish like that.

I love how the entire movie had such a kitschy feel to it. Right from her bedroom to the Mumbai Beat office. My office looks a little bit like, with random colours splashed all over the place. May be that’s another reason I love coming here as much as I do.

P.S. Did I tell you, I went to Chor Bazaar to do a story? ^_^

_______________________________________________________________________________

My brother and I talk sometimes. He does most of the talking. I pretend to listen for a while and then give that ‘are you suffering from verbal diarrhea look?’

A few weeks ago, he came running into my room saying he had to rush. I gave him the most disgruntled look ever, followed by a very long lecture. Reason? He was wearing a pair checkered shorts and a striped t-shirt. Just because they had the same colours, he thought it was socially acceptable to step out like that. What is a girl supposed to do when she sees such blasphemy being committed before her own eyes? He left me with no choice.

Yesterday we were walking home and he was telling me about how he thinks he is having a ‘hukka phase’. He was looking at me for some sort of sane advice. Stuff like stop destroying your lungs or I’m going to tell mommy.

Instead I look at him with a straight face. ‘Suit Yourself’. Those were my words of advice.

‘Tell me something! Scream at me!’

‘You can do whatever you want as long as you’re not doing in a pair of checkered shorts and striped tee.’

It was my brother’s turn to look at me absolutely straight faced.

The Airport: Scene 1

Airports and I, we share a love hate relationship. Every time I touch the airport, I’m filled with a strange rush of excitement and anticipation. When you think of the surprises that lie ahead, it’s hard not to love the place for what it offers.

For a girl who has grown up on a steady diet of rom-coms, I firmly believe airports are the best place to kickstart your love story. Have a good look at my profile. Favourite movies? When Harry met Sally, A Lot like Love and Hum Tum. And that is just as much as I love airports. Not to mention, 68.4373% (Yes, I made the figure up) of these romcoms end with one of the actors confessing their undying love for the other, at the airport, minutes before departure.

What do I hate about airports? Three things. The checking, the checking and the checking. How did I forget the long lines? For a person who hates standing in a line when there are five people ahead, waiting for thirty of them to move, is a real task. On top of that parents insist on travelling with their little kids, who insist on crying for no particular reason. They make me hate the world so much. Even more when they stand behind me, grabbing my ass at regular intervals.

Don’t get me started on my own parents. Their worst fear is being trapped in a foreign country with no Indian food to sustain them. Vegetarian food to be precise. So while we’re waiting in the line, they start having in depth conversations about the different ready to make MTR packets and lolas (Sindhi pancakes) they have carried. All of this happens very loudly, by the way, while I stand there wondering why the ground won’t open to swallow me up.

This time round, I’m travelling without my folks and my excitement is contagious. The times I have travelled without them, there has always been a friend. Let me tell you about this friend of mine. Her parents compete with mine in the paranoia department. When we were fifteen and travelling without them for the first time, they insisted on informing the airport staff so they’d look after us. I’m not going to divulge the details of what followed, for my own sake.

I’m the kind of person, who continues to sit whilst the train arrives, and gets up once everybody else has alighted. Coming early to the airport, in my opinion, is one the most pointless things in the world. This time round, I’m so excited, I’ll probably insist on reaching five hours in advance.

The thought of browsing through duty free shops and bookstores in my pretty sailor striped ballerinas and black high waist skirt seems rather exhilarating. Have I told you about my new Zara bag? Let’s just say she is stylish and fabulous. I can’t wait to walk around the airport with her. And then sit by the pretty little airport cafe sipping lattes. For as long as time will permit me.

(To be continued.........)

Mislaid tracks

Empty impending silences.
Long pauses.
Blank spaces.
White paper.
Mislaid tracks.

A pen in my hand.
I write the story,
Of the path ahead.
I lose the parchment.
Where am I going?

Monicaaaa, oh my darling!

Goddess of Nonsense. She loves you. No reaaally.
Why else would she be writing this post one day before her board exams?
It seems weirdly incomplete to go write this paper without blogging before hand.
I need you guys to wish me all the love and luck, yea?
And I'll will send each one of you homemade brownies.
With a personalized heart shaped thank you letter.
And, no! None of you will die after you consume them.

Anyway, speaking of the exams, I'm surprisingly calm about them.
Jumpy calm.
The sort that makes me want to sing, 'Monicaaaaaaa, my darling' in the middle of my paper.
I swear, when I was writing my prelim paper, every time an answer I knew well would be asked, my head would automatically start playing this song.
Now, I'm just hoping my paper is *filled* with Monica moments.

When I found out what my centre is, I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
I'm going back to my junior college to the exams.
<Insert more yay-ness here>

I'm getting daydreamy again.
Nine days, and then I will be free to do all the little nonsense I've been aching to for weeks now.
*Grins at the thought of Diwali vacations*
There is *so* much that needs to be done.
I'm going to start with making lists.

You make a list of the kinds of brownies you want.
Baking lessons are sitting comfortable somewhere on the list!