Home Chweet Home!

It's been better than usual this time. It's a rare event that you get home and don't get to hear about this that or the other that you've done wrong. I don't mean to sound like a fussy, parent-bashing adolescent (am I still one, by the way? Am 19..don't remember honestly, from bio class, till what age the ickiness phase continues). Home's good. So bloody good. Comforts manifold. Sigh.
No washing clothes yourself (all right..I don't do much of that in hostel either, but at least you have to keep a count on the number of clothes you've given to the dhoban)..food any time you want. And GOOD food. Television..lots of it..aah. It's shocking how appealing random Hindi movies seem, when away from the television (for instance, am watching some Salman Khan genre right now..complete with Sushmita in sexy orange and rain down their jisms). There's Phamily and phamily jokes. And little brother, though no longer pesky (when did he grow up and out of the peskiness, WHEN?). And dinner on the table, whatever time you want. With clean cutlery. Cling cling. Hehe..seems weird sometimes. It's funny how I didn't get used to comforts when I stayed home for a good 17 years, and grew out of them in a hurry, in a year and a half. Importantly, there's little Marcus (who is a year old now..and so big, but a baby at heart! For those who don't know, he's my baby German Shephard. Dog.)
Tea and chocolates galore, comfy beds and no sleep restrictions. No dirty room and 501 tensions on dimaag (the number for shubhness value). Ek dum aaram. What a life. Makes me wonder as to why I ever de-comforted myself from all this, for 9 months a year(that's the number of months I have college, dear). To give your kids the same comforts, silly. Please..I'm gonna marry rich. Badaa naam kamane (to earn a big name;-)) That just makes the spelling more complicated. Why, then? Law for social service. Ummmmm.. To be remembered? Hmm. Yeah. (Nods proudly). That's it. Discomforts to be remembered (not by the warden, but by people after I become super-lawyer). Yep..name, fame, but most of all to be a memory. That's why the struggle..err, I think.
I forgot to mention the ironed sleeping clothes you're encountered with at home..aah..Home Chweet Home!

That's Me! That'e ME!!!!!See Anwesh..told you I was sophisticated, calm and collected..

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant. Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle. You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important. You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection. You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Oh Exam Time!

It's that time of the year (actually month, in law school- we have exams all the bloody time it seems) when you stop going on romantic dinner dates (err..not really), stop watching movies (at least feel guilty while watching them), and sit in the room quietly and study (all right, ALL RIGHT).
Well, actually it's that time when you genuinely stop doing everything because you are supposed to study, and study even less than you ever did before, but feel guilty and keep saying that you have to study.
All said and done, even though I don't study when it's exam time, I feel really, really burdened by it all. I grow grumpy, fight with everyone, eat a lot, sleep more than ever, keep saying I'm sleepy, bored or ill and do no work. It's that time when when I'd kill to sleep an extra hour (which, by the way, I always do) and keep whining about it. It's that time when I'm very close to tears all the time, and have lost complete track of whether the padhai situation is even redeemable from the pits it has fallen into. It's perennial tea time, and the time you break into hysterical laughs without the remotest idea as to why you're even amused (cracking up, as we call it). A time when you stop looking pretty with lenses, and don fat glasses. It's the time when precious moments between 11.45 and 12.30 are awaited to let go during cool nocturnal walks. But yeah, also a time when you actually spend some time in the room. Incidentally, the time when I have ended up having several intense, long and interesting conversations with my room mates. All of them concluding with 'we'll continue talking about this after the papers'. Of course, that never happens. Come the last exam, and all conversational commitments are forgotten.

All in all, it's quite a time. Sigh.

And They Still Stick Up For You..

It's astounding how one person can harbour so many bad habits. Before I sound like a self-help book, let me clarify that I am not talking about the human race in general, but about myself. Jumping straight to the habit that's causing the trouble today:
You hop, skip and jump along life, making friends and losing someone. Smart people keep in touch with their friends. I, for some reason, don't. I have a fundamental problem in communicating with people who have really mattered to me at some point in life. Call if fear, call it laziness. I can't pull you up for calling it either, or some other third thing, for I don't know what it is. Some things fall into perspective a long time after they actually should have.
Law School does some things to you (I was wondering how long it would be before I sprung up with the dreaded phrase 'Law School' in this formerly chaste blog). For one, it makes you value people. Friends of the past. Friends of the present. One more than the other, at different points in time.

Friends of the past first- School friends, colony friends, lunch-break friends, bus friends, standing on the bus-stop friends, ice-cream pals, please-return-my-notebook this time buddies, I-know-you-stole-my-eraser-but-I-can't-say-anything chums, don't-pull-my-hair friends ,your-mom's-a-brilliant-cook friends, you'll-never-date-me-so-let's-be-friends friends..sigh..they come in all shapes and sizes!! For some really sad reason (the un-locatable and un-nameable one I spoke about 35 seconds ago). I am stupid. I really miss you people. Forgive me for not calling, not returning your calls, not meeting up and all those things I did, if you can. Beofre I launch into more detail, I'll have to check the waterproofing of my laptop. So, everyone who I am referring to here, and you know who you are, please understand what I haven't said like you always did. Overlook this one of my many flaws. And get in touch with me ok..I PROMISE I'll call :-(


Friends of the present now- You guys are getting lucky..I am caught in a nostalgic web, so I am foreseeing that I'll miss you people once I lose touch with you (I can correct it only after I've done it..). Here goes..law school specific, the 'some people' who are my world. You're my support system, my assets. My room mates, who I can return to at 12.30, in any mood, and feel safe throwing tantrums with. And of course, the men in my life, who well, are the men in my life. The chivalrous, polite individuals, who willingly throw their shirts over the ditch so that I don't (just) get my feet muddy., The brave souls who fight off the goons on MG road (or at least say they would have done it, after 101 Nilgiris has conquered the enemy and put them behind bars..not to forget, their painful recollections about how hard police-women slap).
For clarity (especially for Anwesha; I promised I'd write about her), the ladies are- Aishwarya, Anwesha, Divya and Pooja (this is purely alphabetic). And the men are safe in my heart (haah..there Aishwarya, no luck..but I know you love me more than they ever can hope to).
And non-law school, Arlene, you're the woman on top!! I love you, muah muah, even when you scandalize me. Oh yeah, and Jehaan, you're ok too.

Tequila Sunrise..

I had sworn to start a blog when we did this. Pondicherry. 2006. 25th December. Tequila in fancy pub- Rs.250. Tequila in fancy bottle from not so fancy shop= Rs.100. The decision was made.

The glass of the bottle was really thick. Something noone realized. So 2 shots per person for the six of us. Flicked lemons from a fancy restaurant (tourist guide said it was the fanciest in Pondi). AND salt. Lots of it, wrapped in a napkin. Hid it with Pooja's 6600 when the waiter walked in (Sigh..a moment's silence for my faithful old phone). Loaded with lemons (which Gupta has with his pasta..yummy), and salt. Venue shift.

Pretty hotel room. We move away the clothes in a hurry, making the room man-able. Beds cleared up. The men stride in. The precious bottle on the bed post. 5 wine glasses and 1 paper glass, ready on the table. An expert bar tender, who tells us we'll 'need' the lemons after our drink. Preempting hormonal disbalance, I request for two lemons (what if I swallow the first one?). Divi the lemon cutter, and salt putter. 'But people want the salt'. Tequila is poured. We lift our glasses. The smell makes me want to puke.

Anyway, night suits and stylish shots. One, two, three..giggle. Once again: one, two, three..wait, wait, my lemon isn't in position. An angry bar-tender..'On 'GO', you DRINK'. Yes Sir.One, two, three...swoosh. Blughh..It sucked. Lunge at the lemon (weren't we supposed to need it). Too much salt on mine. A hurt Divi ('People DO want the salt'). The lemon's not bad after the drink. Aishwarya likes the salt. Divi gives me a triumphant look. Gupta eats the lemon and his words ('I didn't say 'need', I said 'want'. Please.). Amber and Aishwarya loved it. Pooja and I were gonna puke. Rishabh and Divi were awaiting the familiar buzz. Take two.

The second shot is down. Still nothing. We lie down, waiting. Still nothing. Those bloody movies lied. We ate too much. Whatever can 60 ml of alcohol do to you. Give me a break. Pooja is a good girl. Gupta is a sleepy boy. Hedge is the photographer. Divi is still waiting. Aishwarya and Amber move to greeener pastures and 'pitches'. I wait for the taste to leave me mouth.

We savour the moment..We're so cool..