We finished shooting our documentary today. Woke up, barely had a shower and ran off to catch the bus. Came back and slept. And had a very nice dream. I have an exam tomorrow. I don't feel like studying. I am going to Bangalore tomorrow right after the exam. I don't have clothes - more importantly, I don't think I have underwear.
I feel very unsocial and blah. I just want to sleep, sleep and sleep some more. It's very nice sleep weather. I want to finish reading this book I've started on since forever. And this photography book I have to read for my exam is making me all restless, which is something I don't want to feel like right now. Also, it makes me want to have a random fling with a photographer dude. Those NatGeo types, with that khaki sleeveless jacket thing they always seem to wear. I am SO bored. Nothing excites. Sigh.

Today Sudu and I cleaned out the third cupboard where we stock our food and stuff. It's not like we wanted to, but had to, because rum had leaked and the cupboard was stinking like a alcoholic, hence. I saw my first ever Marathi play today - it was a play reading - Harold Pinter's Betrayal - and though I didn't get the language - I got the modulations, the expressions - and shit, they were brilliant. And I couldn't complain about the fact that one of the readers happened to be pretty hot - in a very hulky kind of way - and we get to shoot him for our documentary - yay! The past few days were fun - yesterday there was a quiz thing, which I kinda-sorta helped with - and I was remembering the school days when quizzes were taken very seriously, just like everything else. Yesterday was a complete antithesis of those days. We all seemed so wasted - like we were not quite there - but still kinda having fun. Oh ML, I wish I could give you a hug yesterday - but I settled for a clammy handshake instead. You were good fun, I promise. I sometimes get scared that you'll think I'm patronizing you. But even if you do, there's not much I can do about it is it?
Okbye.

Today I was pretty stoned and had to cover a film appreciation thing that was going on. The auditorium was practically empty, with only a few sprinkles of life or intelligence and it was perhaps a good thing, because I hate loud noises when I'm so far gone. And then, right before the thing started, someone started playing Coming Back to Life, which is kinda sorta my stoned song, and it felt just right...

Where were you when I was burned and broken

While the days slipped by from my window watching

Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless

Because the things you say and the things you do surround me

While you were hanging yourself on someone elses words

Dying to believe in what you heard

I was staring straight into the shining sun

You know when you're all stupid, and think every song that's written, is written for you?...well nevermind.

Sigh. This post is so college.

I miss MSN messenger. And Fangs Fogarty. Whatever happened to him?

Tralalalala. It's just plain wrong to be so happy about something so trivial. But who gives a fucking damn. Thanks for today.

Today we all painted on a huge 75 feet canvas. Even P, who’s not into anything at all really. And I also got my first bike ride in Pune, which is always a load of fun. But my teeth chattered like nobody’s business in the darned cold. I smell of turpentine.

This picture here makes me feel wonderful.

It's a strange story, yours and mine. It's like we know, but not quite.
"You're playing games with me, aren't you?"
"Games? No. I'm not playing games".
With that smile? no...of course not.
Sometimes I want to tell you that, this is not who I am. This is what I've become. This weak spluttering thing, with no imagination or life. And I've been like this for too bloody long. If you would have met me during some other time, in some other planet, or maybe in my dreams, I'd be nicer. Not some lazy, godforsaken sloth who'll be a slave to anyone or anything. I don't blame you, or anyone. It's just the way things are now. A few days ago, I just sat and thought about it for a bit. And I didn't feel angry, or sad or happy or curious or anything. I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn't find enough torment inside me to write silly little poems or contrived stop-motion phrases about the angst and pointlessness of it all (existence i.e.). I really wish I could. It would give me something to laugh about.
I'm a boring enough person. There is not much turbulence in my life. It's all very predictable and sometimes even enjoyable. I can't complain much. You really needn't have happened. Come April, and it will all be over anyway. But what's with the foolish games? Can't you let a stupid person be?
My readers must pardon me for this hormonal post. I've often read other blogs, and wondered, damn, when will I get my chance to be type out a soppy, angsty unrequitted lover kind of post. You know, where the guy's always a bitch, and you are all weird and wonderful in your passion and shit - saying your goodbyes and letting it all come out. Great vouyeristic reads. Anyway. My story, like I said, is strange. It's difficult to explain to friends, or to myself even at my most honest moments. Maybe it's nothing, Maybe it's just a little castle of teenage confusion I like to build and dwell inside for a bit. Maybe because I'm instinctively maternal but also untrusting and distant because of what life has taught me. Maybe it's because I see a great adventure in the little things that are exchanged between us. Like a text message or a cigarette or an unexpected smile.
I hate being so haunted.

Anyway. Mercentile interest taking over. Check out the 'Vautch' section. Come to Fest o Comm if you are in Pune. And see this too while you're at it. http://www.simc.edu/festocomm.htm

Today was a fun day. I spent all day att PIFF (Pune International Film Festival) and had an overdose of popcorn and intellectual porn. There was an Almadovar retrospective, and I always thought I liked him, but all the films I saw were kind of repetitive in their theme and quite honestly, filmy. But still, watchable. But my favouite was this Polish film called Sztuczki (Tricks). What a treat. Watch it if you can. There were others too. Zim and Co was another favourite. There was this Argentinian film called Time without Time which was also very interestingly made. There was another one from Turkey called Bliss, which I wanted to see, but we were too late for it. Anyway, it was marathon film watching for the past two days and if hadn't been for the lousy attendance, I would have gone for some more. But shit, we all went absolutely mad while watching this film called The Mid-Street Gang, which was about Thai-speaking dogs. A recommendation NOT. But you could still see it for kicks.

Oh well, so after all this Sudu, Akshay and I went to Sheesha, which is not quite like the Sheesha at Calcutta, but a huge semi-open roofed, jazz bar with this semi-morrocan decor. I like their music, and the food is passable - great 'ambience' and all of that. Anyway, there was a live jazz band from Brooklyn who call themselves 'Sundar Shor' (Beautiful Noise i.e.) and they were pretty darned good. After that, we had ice-cream at Naturals and came back. Sudu is presently playing mid-night badminton (I played yesterday) while I ramble on.

Okbye.

I have to write something about digital films and I sure as hell don't want to. Maybe if you asked me a year ago, I would, but now I really don't. I'm reading The Dharma Bums, and it seems just right after On the Road, because it's so calm and at times identifiable (god, I hate words like that). People here (and everywhere as a matter of fact) think I'm incredibly lazy (and it's apparently written all over my gait) and they are right. Sometimes I feel like letting the world end, while I just catch a few more winks of sleep. I can't get the fret and the flurry. I like doing things slooooowly. I do it better if I do it slooooowly. Anyway.
Yesterday was fun. It started with Visual Communication classes, which always make me feel like I'm a kid and I can do anything I want. Followed by Radio, which I also like a lot of late. And then the practicals - photography and audiography. Audiography got over early, so I was in the library reading my Kerouac, listening to Akshay's jazz collection (oh my god Nina Simone I could marry you) and checking out PN's very finely shaped behind. PN is this incredible hulk/hunk from the senior batch, with all these apparent brains and a demi-god like status in our college. Only, of late, I see him strutting a lot, which makes him more human and likeable, so I extract as much visual pleasure as I can from him, free of any guilt. That man, likes being watched. And I, like watching. So good.
Among other things, the 'authorities' have banned me from entering the audio-visual library, because I left the computer open after watching a film. *sigh*, If only I could tell the damn megalomaniac, it was because of the film I saw. It's mindfucked me to distraction - Thank You for Smoking - it did. Dolts.
I cannot believe the Golden Globes are over. It's so sad that it had to be this way. Anyway, loads of films that I want to watch. But fucking AV-library has shut its doors on me, dammit. Piracy. My last resort. See, discipline always leads to crime.
Oh hey. See this - http://digitallmovement.blogspot.com/ . When I think about it, it's kinda cool. It's a digi-film fest that my college is arranging, and I think it's one of those few good things they've done. Of course, we have to whore ourselves to the public to get any kind of attention, but still, perhaps its worth it - we will find out soon. Maybe, next year, some of you can send in some of your films. I was thinking of Kanti-Tanaji's City of Literature, but then I haven't seen it myself, and those guys are just incredibly unavailable all that time.
Watch the promo. The guy in the video is quite gorgeous. Taken. But gooorgous. The best of the lot. Heehee.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bQPKYDmzvU

Ah internet. In my room. Luxury. But. Now I don't know what to type. It seems like poetic justice though. I got the net on the single most disastrous day at college. Only it seems futile to bitch, because honestly, who gives a damn anyway. This blog seriously embarrasses me sometimes.