Bubbles

There is a whole lot of darkness. And a little bit of light.
You can feel the wind blowing, when you stand on a height.
It brings a little bit of cheer. And a little bit of melancholy.
Together they live in my heart and challenge the very idea of harmony.
I'm singing songs. The happy and tragic sort.
I'm blowing bubbles. I'm bursting thoughts.
They are the same colour and somehow they look like different colours to me.
O ye, conflicting emotions, are you going to be the death of me?

The Queen of Cups

I wake up.
To the smell of cinnamon incense.
I spread the cards before me.
They tell me a story.
A new one everyday.
Some dark, some strange, some fascinating.
I think I'm love.
With the world they build around me.
I anticipate the manifestation.
The fulfillment of the dream.
The Queen of Cups, she looks at me pensively.

There is a cupcake inside my cookie

[Statutory Warning: The picture and title have absolutely nothing to do with the story]

I walk into the kitchen to see a big box of cookies lying on the table.
No, no. *Big* box of *big* cookies.
Giant size bites of happiness.
I almost felt like the chocolate chips on top were forming a face. :)
One that kept grinning at me excessively and idiotically.

I knew it that very moment.
The only place these cookies would look a little more delightful then they already do, was inside my stomach.
And for the first time in my life, I was taken over by feeling so strange that I'm not even sure it happened.
As soon as I had a couple of bites, I realized the cookies were almost too sweet for my tastebuds.
And all I could have was one.
ONE COOKIE.
I have never ever been repelled by sugar before. Ever ever ever.
Is it just me or is world actually actually taking somersaults?

Anyhooooow, I've recently learned the meaning of the word M.I.A.
Missing in action, for those dimmer than I am.
And I honestly think it's such a cool word that I'm going to disappear from blogspot every now and then just so I can come back and say: I'm so sorry! I've been MIA.

Now coming back to real reasons for why this post is being written.
The exams are coming closer.
The University ones.
Gaaaaaaaaaaah. *Makes a face*
And obviously all this time, while I was jobless I never had the urge to write
Not once.
Not twice.
Now that I know I'm supposed to be buring myself inside a pile of books until they form a fortress around me, I'm taken over by that irresistible urge to turn my stupid little thoughts into words.
Obviously there is a major dysfunction in the way I was made. *Dramatic sigh*
Why else would I ignore my blog when I have nothing to do and embrace it like my long lost husband when there are million things to do?

But, I have to admit.
Goddess of Nonsense Mrs Doodling Irrelevant Thoughts
Mrs = misses.
Get eeeeet?

I'd like act *Smug Muffin* and take full credit for that SofunnyIcouldLaughingandNeverRecover (or not) joke.
But the tragic truth is, that joke will never be mine.
One of my very awesome friend came up with it.
Also, what exactly does that say about my company?

Another friend of mine makes it a point to use '>.<' this emoticon every time he talks to me.
Emoticons are inspired by real life emotions.
However, our emotions are inspired by emoticons.
We've practising '>.<' look ever since.
The world must slow down it's suomersaults.
In case you're wondering what you're doing on the blog of a twelve year old, I thought I should make it a point to mention to you that I'm actually twenty.
Yes, two with a zero.
Wait, what? You would have never guessed?
Yeah, me neither.

I promise the next time I'm going to try to make some sense of what I say and sound very cool and twenty-ish.

*Doodles hearts*

Goodbye, cupcakes!

There are people.
Lots of them.
Some old. And so many new.
Drastically different from each other.
Adorable in so many ways.

Then why do I feel the winds of emptiness are closing in on me.
I'm not sure what I'm seeking.
I'm not sure why it hasn't found me yet.
Perhaps, I'll just bury my nose in a book and escape reality for a bit.

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?

The butterfly haze

It’s 1.17 a.m. Looks like sleep has deluded me.I’m sleepy, but I’m awake.Like my mind refuses to go to sleep.

I must stop having dark chocolate. It sends sleep flying out of my window. It is times like these that I do the randomest of things.

There are a few beer bottles left over from new years. I’ve been pouring it on my hair ever since. Just before I take bath. It does wonders for my hair, I tell you.

It seemed like such a waste, though. To let my hair drink all of it. I decided I’m going to drink it instead.

I love my alcohol, but when it comes to beer, the mere taste of it makes me want to hurl. I've always wanted to know what the big deal about this golden-brown liquid is, anyway. I closed my eyes and gulped a few sips down.

Alcohol bottles sitting at the back of my closet usually spell trouble. And I’m not the usual sharabi ladki who sneaks bottles in and drinks them at inappropriate hours. It’s a little hard to get rid of these bottles, though. New years left me with a bunch of good memories. Funny, I haven't spoken about it at all.

I like playing hostess. I just get a little worried about calling a bunch of people who have never seen each other, even on Facebook. What’s a host got to do if the guests won’t talk? I wish I was an awkward moment breaker. But in most cases I end up being the creator. I can be socially retarded like that.

As it ends up I’m just one among a lot of other socially awkward beings. I’m not saying all of my friends are like that, I’m just saying I have a few of my kind around. What happens when you put them in one room? You have a party you’re going to remember for a while.

While I’d like to believe I did make a good host, I have random memories of jumping around the house in a pair of grey stockings and yellow bunny rabbit ears. Having friends like these also means you’re allowed to wear whatever the hell you want.

In the bargain, I shamelessly forgot to order food. Or make some for that matter. We survived on Saloni’s pizzas and Avanti’s nutella sandwich.

Sugar rush is an awesome thing I tell you. Especially, if it hits you when you’re already high on alcohol. I was dancing to Sheila ki Jawani at 12 am. Item dancing. The spastic version. The sort when alcohol hits you and your limbs decide to go on a break.

There were conversations. Some emotional, some meaningful and some nonsensical and some downright hilarious. Apparently, there was singing as well. Right before I randomly fell asleep. Will you judge me if I tell you I sang ‘saat samundar par’?

Awesomeness that we are, Shreya and I party crashed as well. In the dead of the night. But we left as soon as we realised a) they were too old for us b) the aunties had too much cellulite on their thighs c) The music they were playing made it seem as if they were welcoming 2006. We slipped out quietly. Coke glasses in our hands. Her's ‘neat’. Mine ‘spiked’.

After all the little adventures, I finally properly fell asleep at 5 am, only to wake up to a happy-yappy me.

It’s going to be a good year. Don't you think so? *grins*