Up the shit creek without a paddle

Right then. The comp refuses to get wi-fied. Maybe it hates this place as much as I do. Two weeks, right? Yeah. Hate it. And tomorrow will be the final nail in the coffin. I like the hostel. I like some people. But it's the work that depresses me most. I remember reading Leo's blogpost and thinking, fuck man - I'm not getting into this. I'm not going to waste two years of my life kissing ass and doing general shit. I'll travel, I'll read, I'll shutterbug, paint - do whatever - but do what I like. And yesterday, while talking to Sud, I realised how I failed myself in every possible way. As a student, as a person - man, in every way, in every fucking way. I hate here. I hate now. And I don't particularly like myself. U said (U is not 'you', but a friend I made here) - you need the cynisism. You need to think 'the establishment' sucks and you need to poke yourself a lot, so that when you step out of this glass palace, you won't hurt easy. Maybe. But the very thought of spending the next two years of my life being miserable and alienated is slightly disconcerting. And I'm just not like that. I don't fight people, and I rebel rarely. Just give me my mindspace, and I'm a happy kid. I don't have any mindspace. I am not at all a happy kid.

I don't miss much funnily. I'm okay with being away from home and all that. But I'm really not okay with a shitload of disappointments. I need my fix of happiness man. I need to read the Telegraph in the morning and I need to surf through the net to search for useless Take That news. That's my fundamental ditzy right, right?

The other day we had a surprise birthday party in our room for N. Funny how the room has become everyone's hangout. Of course, entry is exclusive. But that night was kinda pro bono. Everyone came. It was fun till it got too much - and some people posed at me with cell phone cameras and asked me to play guitar. Nighmarish. And I do believe there was hip hop in the dark. And also some uninvited creepoids. Then I ran to U's room. A little later ever N was there - while the others kept at it. Weird. We all know they came for the cake. Heh. Anyway. We need shit like this once in a while. It's morbid here. Seriously morbid.

Man. I can't blog. I don't like blogging from the comp lab. I will as soon as I get the wi-fi thingie. Shit. This sucks. I'm in major bitch mode.

A city should always be like a city. I haven't done much in Bombay this time 'round. Just sat around at the guest house, read a bit, took random photographs and washed clothes.

It isn't too bad. I just need to keep myself distracted from all kinds of going-away blues, which, touchwood, hasn't hit me THAT hard yet.

I walked down to Subway today (because it was the closest and the healthiest) and ordered some shit- thought I'd have a nice quiet afternoon lunch, doodle, read - but - space in Bombay, as the urban legend goes, is indeed a luxury. Jam packed at 1.30. So I ordered with a Gargantuan effort, quietly slunk back into the room and read Archies and the 4th chapter of Fight Club. Also doodled and read an uber pretentious art magazine.

This sad little doodle of mine, under the philistine patronage of some rich fuck, could fetch me a lot. And I mean, a LOT.

Money is no fun without taste. I quite like the rich. As long as they're not stupid about it. I am such a snob about these things.

Anyway, I have nothing much to say. I mean I do, but don't feel like it at the moment. So this may be edited later. So yeah, later.

Aaaaaand I finally see it. Preeta, it IS addictive! See Vautch section. And the dude who says "well what do you expect? They're Canadian", looks like S. Yes he does you UF.

I can't blog. This isn't home. This isn't my computer. It feels weird. Ma leaves tomorrow, and although I don't feel anything significant at the moment, I know it's gonna suck. I am hopelessly in love with my parents, no matter how disfunctional it gets sometimes. I have a new room. It's kinda cool, with a proper bathroom and everything (that's all that matters anyway) and the campus is quite shiny and brand new. It's too early to call it pretentious, but seems awright for the time being. The hostel (yes, it's the hostel), is quite a jailhouse - it's not the "party animal" (haha) in me that's complaining - but fuck man - I'm fucking 21 - whatever happened to choices? I had a smoother life when I was a kid fresh out of school, I tellya. People don't believe I'm a graduate (well, I'm not so sure about that myself), they're EXtremely skeptical about the driver's L, and all the "aunties and uncles" I meet here, good naturedly ask me, "Ma-ke bina reh paoge?" Not just Ma, man. Baba, Dada, Calcutta, everything. Lots of Bongs (as in Bengalis) here though. Damn, and I thought I'd cuss all the time in Bong and get away with it. My brother insists I improve my Hindi. It's an ok Hindi, but not particularly robust. I think it's the way I say "bhaiya". Like I'm 10 or something. I tried sounding older, but ended up sounding rather slutty. I'm more convincing as a 10 year old I think.
Ma and Baba desperately want to believe I'll become thin here. Fat chance (I kill me - sheesh). Dada thinks I'll positively die in a scooty accident. Preeta thinks I'll find some hot fellow to fuck around with (what? In that jailhouse hostel? Kinky?) and that kind of rubbish, Guds thinks I'll become a sleep-deprived freak, who has to study all the time and has dark circles under her eyes. This dude I met recently says (from experience) that I'll get fat(ter still?) and Sudu thinks we'll have secret literature classes at night or on every Thursday in our rooms.
I was just wondering whether I could manage to smoke up in that terrace place without getting caught. I've already started being uber-friendly with the guards, but they seems like freakishly honest people so far. *sigh* Where's corruption when you need it?
Anyway, am in Bombay now. Bombay buddies (like a sequel to "boys"), we should meet and have beer, otherwise what good are you? Hehe. Will call to bother.

Okay. I have just got to stop deleting posts. Actually, I have to stop writing crappy ones. I dunno. I'm just a little confused and angry. So don't mind me.
I'm looking for the right song to listen to as I type this, because that'll determine a lot of it. I decided on Mardy Bum, because I kept listening to it over and over again on the Volvo bus on my way back from Pune to Bombay. I dunno why I write 'Pune', because I always say 'Poona'. Anyway, that's where I'm going come 7th and am going to stay there for a bit, so goodbye and all that. Distance never has anything to do with keeping in touch. Either you keep in touch, or you don't. Simple as that.
I had a pretty cool day today, considering I hate shopping and everything. Especially in the heat. But I had good company and I really felt like hanging with P and G. So yeah, it was fun. I don't know what the fuck I bought, but yeah, it was cool.
There were just so many people I had to meet. There were so many things I needed to do. Then I thought. What. The. Fuck. I'm the one that's leaving. If you care, call. If you don't, don't. It doesn't change a thing. I wish I could spend tomorrow at some kind of spa, getting a pedicure and a massage - but I'll be busy fixing a broken tooth and visiting this doctorwoman who's amazed at how much weight I put on everytime I visit. Shit happens.
I also wish I could spend time at home, bumming around in my shorts, FINALLY watching 'The Departed' cd which I bought today with my clothes money, but nooo. Man, I dunno. I loved those movie afternoons. When I used to come home early from those extra classes, had the entire noon to roll a joint and watch cool movies. Then the bell would ring, and the house would not be empty anymore, and the smoke fumes would more or less disappear. Ennui, but it was all good. I liked feeling that way. Unhurried, unoccupied and comfortably numb. All this is vaguely disturbing. I hate being rushed.
I love Cal, I truly do. It was a good 21 years. It'll never be the same, but in the words of the great Man, "duh". Well obviously.
I can't do a Wonder Years thing. Yeah, it was great. And I have no fucking idea what comes next.
Signing off from Cal,
Loony.

The Mafia has something to do with it, I tellya. The twin disappearences of Arun da and the Green Benches cannot be mere co-incidence. Read the covered up, Omerta'd version here.
I have a whole lot of dispeptic memories of the canteen, so I will side-step that issue, I hope you understand. Arun-da though, was quite a character, and I wish the Don all the best - your still, staring eyes have made me fumble with coffee change several times, just so that you know.
The Green Benches, were never quite off limits for us. I mean, it was, but no-one cared. ID cards have been snatched (mine a record 3 times) by a certain egg-headed "gentleman".
Lessee - how the Green Benches featured in our lives -

Classes bunked - double check

Major bitching sessions/adda - check

Impromptu guitar jams - check

Incorrigible flirting/bird-watching - check

Back/Head Massages - check

Studying - never

Shelter from the storm - check

Film-club plans - check

Reading books/ listening to music - check

Ice-cream begging - check

Birthday cake cutting - check

Photography sessions - check

Cat chasing - check

Photographic evidence -













Puppy-Jhinuk - undoubtedly responsible for some of the" incorrigible flirting".

Johnny and Troy. It's a cross between music and bitching, I'm certain.

Sunetro - Suckers, they fell for my charm! Muahahaha. Ze ize-creme iz mine!
Sud - Hehe. Who paid?
Preeta - Aaa? Huh? Paid? For what?
Me - I think I said it's on us. But I don't think I have any money.
Sud-Preeta - Neither do we. Shall we make a move then?
Preeta - Sunetro, baba, ashlam re - class ache.
Sunetro - Muahahaha...huh?

Ooh. Intellectual and all! Eh, take the picture men. Aar pose korte parchi na.


Preeta - Ah. Ki lagche.

Sud - Kake?

Preeta - Amake.













Sud - Haffy Vudday Shorteeee! (Shit, I hope my cake doesn't poison her. Then she'll die on her birthday. Ooh.)
Paroj - smile smile (kaaat na re babah. I want cake).
Trina - yay! (What am I clapping for again? Seriously, I can't think with my hat)
Me - Thang Keu thangkeu (Shit someone's taking a picture. doublechindoublechin. Oh Shit).


Dropthecakedropthecakedropthecake. Yesss! These humans are too easy.