Happy days are here again! But I wonder why I feel like putting a stake through someone's heart. I feel like Alanissss. And Janisssssss. They do the rage songs like I want them. Harmonica playing, nostril flaring, door slamming, self destructing. Not in an Avril Lavigne kinda punk way. More like, taking off your burkha and running through the Sahara kind of of way....
But no seriously....happy days are here again.

P.S.> Bono glasses are back!

ohoyhoyhoy. I feel...like I'm 17, only crazier. I dontmind. I thought I'd put up a really crazy picture, but nah. It's funny how a little WORD can change your day!

Whatever happened to the Freedom of Expression?

I'm usually too self-absorbed for all this. But really, what's wrong with the world today?
Where am I to begin? The gag on Indian cricketers by the BCCI? The Da Vinci Code controversy? The reservation issue? The Aamir Khan debacle?

Have a look at this.
And check out the Aamir Khan interview on rediff.

And why go so far? Our very own college knows, what it is like to shut up and bear the bloody injustice.

Defamation? I don't think so. But then, you have the freedom to decide for yourselves.
Oh and another thing. Narendra Modi can go fuck himself (since he's done screwing over the rest of Gujarat anyway, might as well, eh?).

Hmm. No-one home. I like my folk. They're good people. I like having them around. I love living on my own. But not like this. Not in this empty, empty way. It's like a premonition. And that kinda sorta sucks. Even the bar doesn't excite. Nothing excites. I feel like I'm 82. Blob. Gawd, I feel like crowshit.
I'm bored enough to start studying.

Uff. Bureaucrats.

The Emancipation of Zub

I'm so glad for you, kiddo.

Are you watching?

Gordon Ramsey : This Bastard rocks

Mon-Fri - 9 pm

Jeez let the picture speak. Deleted the other shit.

Sid take a hike

I feel pretty cool. Mainly, because I know that I have options. I can do a lot of things, if I want to do a lot of things. Or not. It's all cool. There was a time when over-ambitious people completely freaked me out. Over-achievers, heck, ACHIEVERS, made me feel stupid and useless. But guess what? Most of those people were doing things that, I never wanted to do in the first place. I don't "get" math and I don't want to be a rocket scientist or whatever. So excuse me if I'm stupid, but it doesn't matter. I can add, subtract, divide and multiply. I'll live. And thank god for calculators.
I like literature. Now I don't know if I want to write a book or do some thesis or teach (no-not-that!) or do something totally different like a film or roadside graffiti or breeding poodles or whatever. The fact remains, I like literature, and the future can wait. I'm like an old computer. I'm slow and whimsical. And career counsellors and insignificant others can scare me all they want. But I'm in no rush.
I've read On the Road. A bible for us loafers and dreamers. And I watch Travel and Living. There's hope. There' s always hope. I'm not going to waste another ten years of my life trying win somebody's approval. It's boring, tiresome and leaves you a wreck.

It's okay to eat fish

....'Cause they don't have any feelings ?

Went to macher bajar today. I hate eating mach. And I certainly don't like seeing big, cold, dead ones staring into space, getting their guts chopped off turn by turn.

Nope. Certainly not one of my favourite things in the world.

Ma cannot tolerate Nirvana. She thinks Kurt Cobain has a problem or something (well duh). But she liked Man who sold the world. Thank god for David Bowie. Warned her about the ghost of Cobain haunting her. Listening to Nirvana more than ever now. You don't take me to the macher bajar and insult Cobain in the same day and get away with it. Did wish her for Mother's Day though.

On a day like today

Crazy day today. Brilliantly mad at Bertie. Made me wait for two hours and still did not return my papers. Dontwant. Bureaucrat kothakar. Walked off. Will face him only in third year and never bring up the issue ever again.
Then things got better. I mean really. Ma came to pick me up. Had some work in New Market. So I tagged along, to my dismay, to some jewellery shop over there. But it was just a two minute affair, and I was in for a pleasant surprise. The shopkeeper remembered me...and he must have seen me after six years or something. And that felt good, because I'm really the forgettable sort.

Ma, wanted to cheer me up, so we had phuchkas. And New Market phuchkas are always special. And while we were waiting for the delightful little things to be made, the sky darkened to a sinister shade of grey. The best colour a sky can ever be in summer. So we had phuchkas, while it got greyer and greyer and windier and windier, and as soon as we finished, it was pouring baby, pouring. And then what-Bertie-who-Bertie. I love rain. We couldn't find Sukdev da, so we were drenched to the bone looking for him, but somehow, no-one was complaining. I took pictures of New Market on my phone camera while Ma walked on purposefully ahead. I felt like a bloody Raj Kapoor heroine (white and everything) by the time I got into the car.


Mother Nature to the rescue. And hot bath and coffee too. Don't you just love rain?

pics aren't great, low resolution etc.

It- is- a -lovely- weather
Let -us- all- come -together

O vait. Ve did.

In-that- case -what -I'm -saying?

Duh. Prozac-ta de re keo

I hate heat and dust. I do not like summer. I don't like waking up in the afternoon lying in a pool of sweat. I like taking lots of baths. And cinthol or liril and gilette. I seriously like Shiney Ahuja. And wonderbra. Shit I do.

College after ages. Parthospeak after ages. Papers (blurgh).

The three witches went to watch film about unfaithful husbands and wives a couple of days ago. Immediate identification, although why, I dunno. Saw Shaaarmishta DottoGupto. She remembered us. Poor kid. She should have never been in a bitch community like MHS. I escaped by the skin of my teeth. I think. Although I wonder... maybe she went through the PP evolution in Presi. The meek shall inherit the earth. Of that, I have no doubt.

Sudu came over today. Gave here a turtle. Bullspeak and vodka induced high. Definitely my idea of fun.

Had extremely funny dream of Dee. I miss that bitch.

I looove Pakistani bands. They're all I listen to these days. Oh, finally heard G**d mein danda. Hahahaha!

I love him. He eats sheeps' guts and insects and cooks. He goes to anywhere places and talks to anybody people. He makes me reallyreally laugh. He lives in New York and everywhere else in the world. Tony, stop everything and marry me. Even if you might just be gay.

I cannot tell a Sunday from a Wednesday anymore. And somehow, that's not a very good thing.

Oh piggles. I cannot comprehend mysterious behaviour. I cannot comprehend Ramgopal Verma either these days. What in the world has possessed him? Idiotman. I hate it when I lose faith and money.
I am reading. Short stories every night and The Passion of Martin Fissel-Brandt. I am reading on my hammock. And Keanu's surfing and saying "exzellent" ten times a day. Dharma bums keep me entertained, although I fear one of them has given me ukun. Tomorrow I shave of my hair and get my head tattooed.
Mentally erased a friendship. I feel better.

I'm tired of this arty-arty life. Of all these busy images. Too many reds. Too many purples. And all the arty talk. I mean it's fun for a while. But not right now. I keep picturing myself on a lazy hammock, sea beach blue and a Jack Johnsonian Banana Pancakish Life. I may or may not read. I'll listen to others play guitar. And talk about simple things. Not the big bang theory or T.S. Eliot or politics or the Beat poets or Jazz or theatre or Roman Polanski or whatever. And we'll talk like we talk. Not in that affected half-Hindi-half-Bangla-half-English mumbo jumbo. I enjoyed that, but now it's a little tedious. And we'll play. Just move. Run. Paraglide. Surf. Beach volley ball. Anything. And not worry about what we eat, and how fat we're getting, or think about appearances at all. God, I'll have shrimp and lobster and then swim in the beach and not give a damn. And to hell with joints and cigarettes. And beer. Well, maybe sometimes.
And have lots of beautiful duh boys around me. Keanu Reevesish. Aah. The life.