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Plea

Would you understand why that missing comma, that missing period will always annoy me?

Would you understand heels have always been my nightmare and how they will still continue to overrule my convictions and make me want to get the hang of them?

Would you understand that I am always going to need help with tearing open that packet irrespective of what it contains – chocolates, ice-creams, ketchup, pens, gunpowder?

Would you understand that the most vulnerable moment of mine is probably when I am holding onto that book as if for dear life, stripped naked of all veils?

Would you understand that I will always be a sucker for words, the written, the spoken, the command they have over my very self, making me forget for a moment the side I am on, making me pause involuntarily if only to admire the beauty they cloak their subject in?

Would you understand if I told you that I feel more secure when I leave my words within single quotes; that double quotes have left me squirming of late?

Would you understand that beneath all that show of being strong and probably over-confident lies a very brittle self-confidence that has survived too many a storm of doubts of its very existence?

Would you understand that past all the fancy words and imageries is just a yearning to be held, petted, looked in the eye defiantly and convey all there is to be said in pristine silence?

Would you understand that it is not love that I seek, not even companionship, for they all bore me at some point or the other, but the presence of your being that keeps fooling me into believing that life will somehow seem complete in the truest sense?

Would you understand the lonely streaks that I am bound to get into, the free falls, the maddening jumps, the solo trips, the skinny dips and that ache to wander furthermore?

Would you understand that I have tried and still this won’t stop, won’t just let me be?

Would you pause, even if just for a moment, to just acknowledge that none of this is easy and it is a full-fledged battle, against the senses, against time, against the conscious, against my entire self every single time?

Would you, please?

Lick and spit, lick and spit

To the moonji that continues to sway whatever it is in me.

-

I am not quite sure where its roots lie, but I think I can say with quite some conviction that the subtle art of licking found its strong base in India. After a certain amount of patient research, I think I can safely conclude that it is commonly assumed by researchers that licking might’ve originated from the need to savour tasty food, especially the stuff that melt – quite decent intentions, yes. However, through the ages, the art has seen several stages of transformations. The most prevalent form in the country seems to be the optimum usage of the primary factor involved in licking – the spit. For example:

1)     Do you want to stop a wound from bleeding?
Lick the blood or put some spit over it.

2)     Do you want to do something quick about the burn on your hand?
Lick or put some spit over it.

3)     Apprehensive over what to do with bf’s/gf’s lips after your first & awkward (French) kiss?
Lick or twirl tongues (awkwardly) to exchange spit.

4)     Ran out of glue at the post office?
Stamps, envelopes - lick ‘em all away to glory!

5)     Wondering if the food isn’t rotten yet?
Lick it, anyway.

6)     Got something that tastes fishy while you’re walking on the road?
Spit it out, anyway.

7)     Just filled air in one of your vehicle tyres and concerned if it’ll be down by the time you cross the street?
Put some spit on the nozzle.

8)     On dieting plans but tempted to have that insanely sweetened ice gola?
Licking it once (or twice, or maybe thrice) is just fine.

9)     Pages on a book too sticky to turn?
Lick the fingers and work it out again.

10)Can’t get your thing into her thing?
Lots of spit and there you go.

P.s: Title of the post sound more fun when you read it in a tone similar to 'No chip chip, No chik chik'. No? Otay.

On deactivating a facebook profile

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So off late, I have been coming across this general tendency of people to label deactivating a facebook account as a ‘publicity stunt’ or a ‘girl thing.’ I beg to differ and this is my take on what could/might/will happen when you deactivate your facebook account.

You are going to be wonderfully surprised when you get to know who notices the absence of your profile first. As queries begin to flow, surprises will increase as you realize how many people had really bothered giving your profile a look at every day to notice that it is gone one fine day – they could be people who are genuinely interested in your life or what you think about certain aspects/things in life, or they could be expert stalkers. There is something quite personal in the way people text or call you up to inquire if you are fine. And there’s something very endearing in the way some make it a point to meet you in person and give you a hug before assuring you that it will all be okay and in all probability, they wouldn’t even be prying to know what exactly did happen.

You will think twice before automatically hitting the new tab short cut and typing ‘f...’ Logging in just for a peep would also mean reactivating the account and you’d remember you didn’t leave the place for no reason. You may migrate to twitter, gtalk, google+, but   everything and anything would make you feel like you have a much more personal conversation with the other person than just ‘liking’ pictures, stuff shared or posting on ‘walls.’  Facebook will flash the DPs of 5 people and say ‘These people are going to miss you’ as a final desperate attempt at playing with your emotions and making you stay and these 5 faces will somehow linger  in your mind for a long time to come.

You will be amazed by how less depressed and more at ease you feel by not knowing what goes in the lives of people around you. You will go back to visit your long-forgotten blog, web page or probably even end up renewing your gym or music classes to fit in to the huge amount of time you suddenly seem to have out of nowhere. You read more. You think more. The temptation to peek will take time dying down, especially when you know the password(s) of the facebook account(s) of your friend(s), but eventually, you will get around it.

You will probably go back to your phone and check out old text messages where someone had asked you to read or see something. You will finish checking out every webpage you had bookmarked. You might develop a whole new interest. Going for a walk and observing what people do apart from logging in to facebook every 10^th minute will genuinely interest you. Instead of sneaking a look at the profile at the traffic signal, you’ll relax and let a song play on on your mobile. It will be quite entertaining to see how some friends really try to persuade you or blackmail you into joining the network again irrespective of whether they put it directly or subtly. They’ll mail you, call you, take you out and sometimes annoy the hell out of you. But at more than one occasion, these instances are going to fill your heart and make you realize how very dear even the profile that seemed so empty to you had meant to these people.

And more importantly, you might also get to know how one or more people whose presence on the cyber world mattered a lot to you had never once realized that you were off the network in the first place. They might tell you that they had barely logged in, they only barely glanced at their news feed, they certainly didn’t look at messages or wall posts, but when the duration we are talking about exceeds a week and still you end up hearing the above said, you simply need to know where you stand in their lives.

I am not saying that facebook is the beginning and the end of life, but for people like me, it has indeed become an integral part of our connectivity. When time asks for it, when we need to maintain some long-distance contacts or stay to fit in to a new environment, sites like this are a true life-saver. Of course I do not support the idea of deactivating the account at the drop of a hat, every alternative day. I don’t really have much respect for people who keep running away from their profiles and think that that would help them run away from reality as well and hence is the end of the problem. But it might be true that at least temporarily, that might be the beginning of you seeing/seeking a solution. And yes, this is a personal opinion.

If you haven’t done it before, take a break – a week, month, several months or maybe even a year. Get back if you want to or give yourself more time to explore away elsewhere. Either way, chances are that you will be gently amazed looking at, soaking in and living in the events that follow and you will see the world around and the people on it in an altogether different perspective. On the other hand, if you are never going to be up for it, at least understand this: if a friend has gone ahead and done it, either be there to give a hug and a chocolate or politely stay away. It might be your turn tomorrow to feel blue and you’re not going to enjoy being poked fun at, trust me.

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Of high school crushes and all

courtesy: fuzzydave.deviantart.com

The following situation is just an example of what might arise when you are completely sleep deprived, wide awake past 12 in the night, texting and/or calling peoples who can make you see sanity but they decide to pretend to be busy and not reply and you lose your sense and do something extremely stupid. Well, in my case, it was a result of the above mentioned and the fact that a high school crush lasted like 5 years. The conversation should be understood to have happened between 3 (or more people). For general understanding, I’ll name them as follows: Usual-Self (or US) - the self who you will normally encounter when you talk with or meet me. Subconscious-Self (or SS) - the self within that talks sense into me in all sorts of situations, that valiantly argues against the US and is never afraid to lay forward blunt truths as arguments and also, sadly, loses to the US most of the time, its voice going unheard. DY (or DY only - cannot say name, go) is the forlorn high school crush that my heart so willingly harboured for the past 5 years – it deserves appreciation considering the fact that it never let go of this DY in spite of the fact that it found other souls it thought were worthy enough to invest love and emotions in. ‘How silly?’ are you thinking? Tell me about it. Keeping all this in mind and hopefully some pity for the wrecked soul that narrates this story, you may proceed to read further.

So I lie wide awake at about 12:30 in the night, exhausted from waiting for replies for the text messages I had sent to a couple of people who usually succeed in putting my drifting mind to ease. I resort to throwing tomatoes, rotten tomatoes and even broken flower pots I found on the terrace to this one fellow who I desperately wanted to talk to (read: Snowman) and he still maintains his silence extraordinaire. Now the mind starts playing silly games on me and the US temporarily convinces the SS that sending a text message to DY was a brilliant idea. Barely leaving any time for the SS to comprehend what was happening, the text message is sent.

Me (US): Hey, hi. Reply, no? (SS: Great conversation starter.)

DY: Who is this?

Me (US): Schoolmate of yours. Never really got to talking with you at school. Gathered courage (SS: Gathered WHAT? YOU’RE NOT TYPING THAT!) and wished you on your birthday.  You didn’t even reply. (SS: Seriously, why would he reply to a message from an unknown number?)

DY: My mobile wasn’t working properly that time… Who is this? (SS: *smirks* He’s just being nice.)

Me (US): XYZ. From XII Section X. (SS: What are you? Like 14?)

DY:  Oh… Hey wassup?

Me (US): Umm. Sky. Enamo no stars today. Sorry, eh. Hate that question. (SS:WHO ARE YOU KIDDING? How much does it take to talk normal to this guy? You’re talking for the first time!)

DY: Where are you now?

Me (US): Motta maadi (terrace). Home. Chennai.

DY: Nice... But I meant in general which college and stuff... (SS: God! What must the guy think of you now!)

Me (US): Oh. Sorry. Just finished my Blahblahblah at Blah College. Currently applying for Blahblahblahblahblahblah. (SS: And he’s recruiting you for a job.)

DY: Oh... finished graduation! Congrats

Me (US): Thanks. :) How’s life at the premier institute? Interning somewhere now?

DY: Yup... Interning at BLAH...

Me (US): Cool. No idea how I got the courage to text you again. (SS: There you go again!)

DY: Why does someone require courage to text me?

Me (US): Someone, I don’t know. I do. Not sure why though. :S Took me like what… 3 years to decide to ask someone for your number and actually text. (SS: Honest and all okay, but you’re freaking the guy out!)

DY: Oh where did you get my number from?

Me (US): Make a guess. Not very difficult.

DY: ABC?

Me (US): Haha. No. Snowman. And you know ABC? (SS: Why DID he guess that?)

DY: Yeah there's a guy in my hostel who is also in the team he told that ABC asked my number... That’s why...

Me (US): Mayor. Mental Mayor, is it?

DY: Yup... (SS: Now remember to throw a flowerpot at that guy the next time you see him at the insti!)

DY: So which college you applying? When? (SS: Thank God you didn’t have to dig for some explanation there.)

Me (US): Got selected at BLAHEST today. Waiting for my interview call from OkayPlace. AnotherOkayPlace also.

DY: Did you see this movie QASDFR?

Me (US): Not yet. Did you? Is it any good? (SS: Thank your stars now that the guy is actually trying to pull a convo out of this phail situation.)

DY: Am sitting in the theatre and bored like crazy... :( (SS: SUCH.A.BULB. Now you know why the guy is texting you.)

Me (US): Haha! And you’re texting me? Are you serious? :D (SS: Now go ahead and make the obvious explicit.)

DY: There is nothing good in the movie... Anyways why did you give me a chocolate on the last day and all that?

Me (US & SS): *heart skips several beats* (to self) He still remembers that?! *tears of joy*

Me (US): Lol. You’re finally asking this after 3 years. :P It was a dare. Was supposed to be. You calmly said ‘Thank you’ & left. Barely dare material. :P

DY: Lol... All I cared for then was the chocolate... :D

Me (US): Even when it came from a girl you’d never even said hi to? :P

DY: You said friends and offered the chocolate so I took it and said okay... I seriously thought you would try to speak some time later… (SS: You can go shoot yourself in the head & then hang yourself up. YOU did not remember that bit? The ‘friends?’ bit? And he all along expected you to speak up? DIE!)

Me (US): Damn. Back then, you were this intriguing guy dribbling a tennis ball & singing to himself in the corridor all the time. And a very brainy one at that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you knew me in the first place & I really didn’t think you’d remember. (SS: I can’t agree more.)

DY: Those were real nice times... I knew you of course... There were very few girls in school anyways... :P (SS: And you thought while reading the first half of the message that he was being nice.)

Me (US): Not entirely true. :P (SS: Yeah, right. Try and save your own grace.) I used to think you were mad in a nice way. :D

(after what seems like an eternity of silence) Err. Did I say something wrong?

DY: Lol... Was driving back home that’s why no reply... Not your fault if you thought I was mad

Me (US): Mad in a nice way only. (SS: *facepalm*) You’re at City1 or City2 now?

DY: Ciy1 in my friend’s house now...

Me (US): Ah. How’s the intern going?

DY: Intern not very awesome but is okay

Me (US): Nice. It just struck me. (SS: YEAH, RIGHT! :D) You did see me at the canteen the other day la? If you knew me, why not come over and say hi? (SS: God knows how long you’ve been dying to ask him this! :D)

DY: You were with someone right?

Me (US): Umm. Shd’ve been ABC or Snowman. I’m with either of them. Lol. That’s why?

DY: If it was Snowman I would have come... I don't know ABC at all... That's why...

Me (US): Ooh. Okay, okay. How come you’re up this late? Office iliya tomorrow?

DY: Tomorrow Saturday... We no work on weekends... :P

Me (US): That should make your intern awesome enough. :P

DY: But generally work is from 9 to 6:30 and its so far away... :( (SS: DO NOT IMAGINE A PUPPY DOG FACE and go ‘Aww’ at that smiley he just sent!)

Me (US): Aiyo. That is one taxing field, no? You’ve got <insert keyword> work ah?

DY: For one week I had... But they can't provide accommodation hence no more site work... :)

Me (US): Haha. Lucky you. So. What other interests apart from football and sport-crush-is-supposedly-good-at? (SS: Definitely 14. And now he knows you stalk him.)

DY: Nothing much... Used to play hockey too but now became too injury prone so even not playing much of football...

Me (US): Hmm. Heard from OneGuy that you guys used to have some sort of HP fan group or something at school… :) (SS: God, please let Snowman be wrong for once and PLEASE let this guy be a HP fan!)

DY: Not me... Me was never a big fan of Harry and also they did that in 11th and I was in Batch-something-else at that time... I still remember you singing ‘Vellai Pookkal’... That was the first time I ever heard that song... Would you believe? (after prolonged silence from my side) Slept?

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Yes. I did fall asleep and I’m sure you’d know how stupid I felt about myself when I woke up and found that this was the message I’d got when I had dozed off. Let’s say, both the US and the SS unanimously declared that I was stupid but also agreed that this guy sure did remember quite a bit about me and maybe I deserved a pat on the back. I should also mention that the SS promptly reminded me that DY had also mentioned about there being very few girls at school. US vehemently disapproved of this idea being the reason behind why DY did remember quite a bit about me. You do too, right? Now, if you also share an equally embarrassing episode in your life, you are welcome to share it and make the author feel good about herself or at least make her feel like she has company here. If you’re laughing reading this like my noble friend Snowman did after he heard but half the story on phone, you are welcome to shoo away because I am going to go dig a hole in the ground and bury my head in it. I hereby hold Snowman solely responsible for this disastrous night of my life and whatsoever the consequences it holds in the future. Now, GO.

P.s: Dearest, Snowman. After you’re done reading this and laughing your ass of all over again or even distributing printed pamphlets of this story to all the people you know and forcing me to think if I should probably dig a life-sized pit in the ground to bury myself alive, go be of some use in life, call up that guy and find out how much of a phail he thought this was.

(Somehow this little bit of innocence stuck through the growing-up years. Just this case where for once I saw myself fret and worry over talking to someone. There would’ve definitely been some point where I would’ve written about this. I just thought, ‘Why not now?’ DY was/is a nice guy. I hope we turn out to be good friends.)

Sincerely, a proud arts student.

'English only, no?'

I don't have count of how many times people have told me this when I sigh a tad too loudly that there's a lot to study or way too much work to do.

To begin with, there's a lot more to the degree than the composition and comprehension luxury than 12th std last offered. There's literature from different countries, centuries, eras, feminism, criticism, linguistics, media studies, communicative studies, journalism, popular culture studies; essays, short stories, novels, movies, songs, poems and concepts to analyze, unlimited presentations, short films, ads and projects to create and most of all, endure it all under the societal hood that has a pre-conceived notion that we either have a carnival running behind us or that we sit and bake cakes and sing rhymes all day.

For all you oh-so-cool-so-difficult-and-complex-to-study engineering students: No, we're not complaining. But there's a lot more to arts, you know?

My very good friend Deva adds, "If you want to talk about English, read Neruda, read Hemingway, read Doestovsky, read D.H Lawrence and read Blake. Then talk about it being not interesting or it being easy. I shall then consider listening to your argument."

Mind you, he's a CS student from IIT-M with an average GPA of 9.something.

P.s: You might've been right about the carnival bit. We are capable of creating one instead of endlessly groaning about the work load we tend to get.

-        Just Someone.