Ice cream day

It's February 27th

Very important day. Hyped up waaay too much sometimes.
For one, it's the Oscars.. Movie buffs I know are all apprehensive (I dont know many, but I imagine they would be, if I knew em)
The guy who has hosted successfully at numerous occassions before and someone who I personally love watching is hosting the event. So yay!!
It's so weird what these celebrities wear to these things. Even the ones that arent termed weird look pretty bizarre to me. And the ones I like go without mention in all the talks that follow the Oscars.

The significance of this day is not really the Oscars. If it was indeed the most important quality of the day to me, I'd get screamed at from all sides, including from inside, ie I'd get screamed at by me.
No, today is 3 days away from the launch of the CBSE board exam 2012 (aka AISSCE).
AISSE (All India Secondary School Exam) is what I wrote in class 10, AISSCE (All India Seconday School CERTIFICATE Exam) is what I'll be writing starting 1st March. The tiny difference in the exam appears to be the addition of "Certificate" in the latter. But its not, this one is EVILLER! It's got me all edgey, and I dont get "tense" (or tenseD as is used) for exams, well I didnt anyway.
I did fine in the other exam 2 years ago. But on a synonym day (by which I mean a day in this day's shoes.. uh 3 days before my other board exam) in 2010, I was having a hell lot of fun - it was HOLI!! We'd played all morning and promised to be carefull. But "Carefull" wasnt particularly fond of me and was adamant to avoid me on that day. As a result while attempting a sad sad sad version of a sliding tackle, I still dont know how I managed, I twisted my foot and fell on it, very effectively screwing up any plans I might have had of walking (etc) for the next 2 months. Lovely innit? So anyway I really did get screamed at from all sides, but it got me sitting somewhere motionless and bored and with nothing but studying to do. Despite what anyone else might say, I believe that I wouldnt have gotten the marks I did if it wasnt for my foot.

NOW, though I have no broken foot or 90% in my preboards to console me. I dont think, I'll be able to get away with hurting myself (Hurt myself sufficiently but with only the precise amount of damage <- that is tricky; if ex-ante hurt and ex-post hurt dont coincide, the plan could seriously back fire...)
So since broken foot wont work, I'm gonna get me some icecream.. Tata!

Maybe..

Often I think how my life would have been if I'd stayed in London. I'm guessing I would have been really really reeeeaaaaallly different. From my accent, to clothes, to the way I talk.. just different in every way.

If I'd stayed..

Maybe I'd have blue hair.

Maybe I'd be wearing heels that are over 2 inches high.

Maybe I'd spend hours doing homework and studying..

Or not at all.
Maybe I would never leave home without make up and matching accessories, maybe I would rarely ever leave

Maybe I'd have had a few boyfriends

Maybe I'd wear a dress to prom, maybe I wouldnt go.

Maybe I'd want to leave London forever and come back to India, maybe I'd never ever want to leave.
Maybe I'd eat all day, maybe I'd be anorexic
Maybe I would've danced, something very different from Bharatanatyam

Maybe I'd have learnt some instrument and got some friends and joined a band.
Maybe I would've gone out of my way to fit in, maybe I would have said "screw the crowd"

Maybe my photo would have been there in the slideshow of faces, some I knew and many I didnt, that I just saw...

Or maybe I'd be more or less the same, except with blue hair.

Observations of a sick wall

Some crazy people want to go to school when they are sick.When I get sick, I want to be home. If I was the tiniest bit unwell, I would use it as an excuse to not go to school. But there are some days when I get sick in school. The worst situation is when these days come with exams... 

...The exam usually the trigger, starts off a headache - the ones that feel like you are head is wedged between contracting boulders - and I have to use my tortured brain to finish the stupid exam. When I'm done, I have to make small talk about the horrendous exam, nod, smile and drag myself through an endless sea of evil, mindless bobbleheads, all the while thinking of ways to throw them out of my way or imagining turning into a bulldozer and making a path straight over them or ways to incinerate them all at one go... A small voice reminds me that these people are my friends who are not indeed evil, mindless bobbleheads. 

Once outside the building, I duck out from under the radar and find me a relatively quiet place to sit and hope that my friends do not find me, this time bombarding me with querries about my health and mood.

And then the final bell rings and kids pour out in all sizes from virtually everywhere! This effect is magnified with the improvements in memory caused by the headache and fever. The noise of school already echoing in my skull increases a hundred fold. The little kids screaming and running around hitting anything and anyone on their paths have you believed you're in a horror film.

If I'm lucky, I become a part of the wall. No one sees me and eventually I can somewhat tune the noise out, rather it becomes a loud but smooth silk cocoon surrounding me much any more. As an ill wall, all I have to do is wait till a few selected boobleheads from the sea, exhausted of thier social chatter for the day or at the mercy of their hungry tummies find me and take me home. So till then I stare out into the chaotic after-school world. I see the evil little kids run around and get glared at by older kids when they are elbowed in their stomachs, I see the older kids turn back to their friends and continue laughing. I see the senior most lot flirting, gossiping, discussing studies, fooling around. I see kids screaming over the noise for some of thier friends standing far away. The noise grows louder, something I considered impossible moments ago, the addition is a strange sound, distinct from the kidds sounds.The cause for this sudden alacrity makes its appearance soon, a big yellow bus pushes its way through the sludge of students. And then the crowd clears a path, the smaller kids scrambling like ants running from advancing water. Its a grand entrance; the dust on the ground is lifted into the air and the bus emerges dramatically almost silhouetted, like a villain in those old films. When the bus is motionless, the crowd moves back moulding the vehicle. Things are exactly as they were before.

Then they find me and I become mobile again and go home. 

This report is highly exaggerated. But its more fun to remember it this way.

In His Shoes (They don't really fit, but worth a try)

“Take my phone.” I said.

“I don’t need it. It’s just one day. And it’s not like I call you or anything when I’m out” She replied rather rudely. She seemed pretty pissed and I was in a peace keeping mood today, thus decided not to press the matter. But then again, what if something happened?

“But still... In case something happens.”

“What could possibly happen?!” She was screaming now. So I rolled my eyes and mumbled something under my breath for her to make out as she may. I tuned her out and continued doing my work in my own world that didn’t have room for a dumbass, crabby sister.

I could still hear her stomp out and bang the front door. Why does she do that! That is so annoying.

After fuming for a couple more minutes I was able to resume studying. Time dragged; my colourless chapters didn’t help. After a while I realized that a lot of time had passed – 3 hours! She said she’d be back in 2. I tried calling out to sure she hadn’t crept in when I was absorbed in my demanding Sanskrit lessons. No reply. Not that I had expected much. Immediately, my mind started conjuring up horrible images of what might have happened. One particular scene was recurrent with vivid details…

She gets into an auto with a decent looking driver, tells him her destination. They get moving, everything is normal, until he takes an unexpected turn into one of those mysterious, winding, clustered together lanes. She protests, telling him to go back to the main road. The dude says it’s a shorter route that’ll save time and that going back would be a pain and will cost more. She has better things to worry about; she reasons, and lets the guy have his way. They go deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of lanes, a small paranoia starts gnawing at her. Finally she decides to stick with the main road idea and tells him she’ll pay the fee, just get back to the road. She thinks besides she’ll have to spend less time in class and she can blame traffic. He agrees but continues to take her down the same road, saying they were almost at the road. Her paranoid self takes control of her thoughts; she couldn’t hear any large vehicles or the inconsiderate honking of big roads. She thinks of the self defense that she knew which did not comfort her much.

Before she was done with three threads of thoughts, the auto stops. Not to worry he says and walks out to the back of the auto to get some gizmo which he put to use on the engine. He honks twice. A group of men from around the bent come by. They seem to know the driver and start enquiring as to what the problem was, all the while stealing looks at her. By now she is completely panic stricken and acting purely on instinct she starts running. She doesn’t get far when the gang catches up with her.

I didn’t allow myself to think more. I shook my head, trying to clear the horror scene and get straight to doing something about it. I called up my parents immediately; they heard the hysteria in my voice and said things that calmed me little. My mother promised to be home as soon as possible. I paced the length of my house, not really thinking of anything, rather trying not to.

After an eternity my mother got home. She asked if my sister had returned as though the fact that she hadn’t was not evident from my behavior. When I didn’t say anything, she made me sit down and told me that my sister would be fine and that there would be some very reasonable explanation for her not getting home in time. A great deal of consolation that was. She excused herself to make some phone calls.

Phone. Why didn’t she just take my phone? I should have pressed harder. Or put the phone in her bag. If she had taken my phone, none of this would have happened. She could have called when she got in trouble. Why couldn’t she just take my phone!

“What could possibly happen?!” She was screaming now.

I snapped out of my reverie and stared blankly at her. She had that maddening ‘Well, aren’t you going to say anything? Dweeb’- look on her face. 
Wow, crazy imagination. So nothing happened... yet.

“Just take it,” I said trying to sound bored and waving my phone in the air.

“Ugh!” She looked up at the ceiling exasperatedly. She snatched the phone from my hand and made a big show of putting it in her bag. “Ya happy now?”

I just shrugged and pretended to do my work, not letting her know the anxiety attacks she was saving me from, while she left banging all the unfortunate doors in her path.

By the way, nothing really happened; she did come back in record time. But I was able to breathe freer.

[[[All this was thought up by the Sister in the story, in an attempt to understand how the twisted brain of my brother works. Yup, I'm the annoying sister who did not get kidnapped.

But if I'm completely off the mark, eh well it was fun to write. 

Anyway, I'm glad I have a crazy paranoid (I guess a bit caring too) brother.]]]

What math does to me.

There's only 2 things in my mind right now. One that I will not mention here. And the other how much I suck at math.

I suck at math.

This post is an unfortunate result of my doing math.

I blame teachers. 

I blame my lack of attending classes like abacus and shit that teach kids who aren't old enough to spell mathematics correctly to make crazy ass calculations that I have difficulty with after 12 years of normal people math in a mater of seconds. (Please forgive the scanty use of punctuation in the previous sentence - its 11:30 and I'm not in a mood to punctuate certain sentences while being very particular about convoluting them as much as possible, the simple motive being making your reading less enjoyable. I don't really care if my motive has been achieved.. Actually I dont care about anything at this point of time. So forgive the punctuation thing or dont, see if I care) 

Back to what I was saying, I blame how the people who teach me only do the easy questions and leave the hard non-do-able ones for the dumbasses like me. 

I blame their methods of teaching - either thinking I know everything or the exact opposite, explaining tiny things that kids in 6th would know and making me feel dumber than I am. 

I blame the fact that I'm not genetically a genius.

But you know what? It's none of their faults, it's my fault. I can blame no one but myself! I dont slog as hard as I should, and whats worse? I tell myself that I work my butt off, but all in vain! Pssh such lies.

But on my part - it is frikking hard. Every time I do math, I get a huge headache and my head gets literally heated up, I start sneezing, fall asleep, get mad, and develop an insatiable need to destroy something, among other things. And I am no genius, no where close.. and I find this shit extremely difficult.

I'm done.

conclusion - I suck at math.

My first poem.

Dancing and jubilantly flying past
the happy hues through the frame;
In a blur or in squiggly lines
But always keeping their tone light,
Whizzing away through the night.

Viewed through the screen of fog
they're even more beautiful.
Time passes, my eyes stay fixed,
Seldom tearing themselves apart
from the frame, anchored to their dance.

The colours, my only companions now
diversify in rhythm and pattern -
Attempt to console a desolate soul.
All in vain for the fog holds strong
A quiet melody lost in chaotic noise.

Eventually it ends, as all good things do
The light is lost; there's no more colour.
The grey picture in the frame moves ever so slowly;
prolonging the pain and tightening the shackles
around my lungs, heart and soul.

Then the pictures halt;
the journey has ended.
My presence is acknowledged.
I exit the car leaving behind the pictures;
The colours in the frame and the memories from the past.
The fog flows free down my cheeks.

Pandora's box

Could Pandora have made things any worse for herself (and us)?

Mythology – Pandora was the first woman on earth; she was really cool even though he was made to screw “man”kind. She could sing and persuade people and was pretty too. But she was also curious. (I wonder why it is that in these myths women are really awesome and stuff at first, then curiosity gets the better of them and they do something forbidden which ultimately leads to DOOOOM!) So anyway here’s what happened in brief: Prometheus stole fire and gave it to the man, Zeus got mad coz he wanted the fire for himself and other gods and divine peoples. So Zeus made Hephaestus create Pandora and set her up with Epimetheus, Prometheus’s brother, and gave her a box (yeah that’s right, Pandora’s box :P), in this box was all the evil of the world (duh, naturally) and she was told never to open it, but she did as Zeus knew she would. When she did, out flew all evils like sorrow, illness, misfortune... you get the flow. She was like Holy Shit and shut it quickly but by then everything had escaped except HOPE.

When this story is told, people say “all the evils in the world escaped, but there was one good thing in the bottom of the jar – Hope” (This itself is an example or ridiculous hope) which I think is just really stupid because hope is the biggest evil. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Look, all the sorrow and misfortune is out there and it’s bound to prey on you at some point or another. It’s bad enough without hope, cause you’ll be devastated as it is with the attacks of the evils and as hope is with you, you start thinking that it will get better; hoping it’ll get better, when actually the evils are gaining ground. Sometimes this hope grows and grows and becomes what your lives revolve around during times of trouble, and that’s when the gods decide to squish the hope under their feet, so when it finally crushes you, it’s a lot worse than it would have been if you hadn’t hoped.

Then you might say letting go of hope is like surrendering. So what? You’re gonna get gobbled up anyway, why make it more difficult for yourself? Thinking “Give up without a fight? How stupid/lame/cowardly!”.. Yeah, that is your hope-brainwashed head speaking. You know you’re going to lose anyway and still give it your all (and are treated as a hero by other oblivious naive people, ok good thing this.. but still) AND you end up getting screwed worse.

But here’s the worst part – even if you do agree with me about hope being horrible, you can’t do anything about it. You’ll still hope.

SEE! EVIL!

All that aside, the story is kinda flawed. The evils attack because they were released, hope was never let out. So humans shouldn’t be able to hope at all. But then maybe we hope, because it is still with us, but then there shouldn’t be misfortune, because it’s not with us anymore. OR, maybe when we have these things with us we can chose to employ them as we wish, but when it’s out there it gets to annoy whoever it wants and decides the intensity. Make what you want of it.

Masterchef Australia

When we (my family) were trying to kill time after school, flipping through channels, hoping there’d be something nice to watch on Starworld, we often came across Masterchef – Australia, USA and the worst of the lot Masterchef India. And we’d stupidly scream at the TV as though the people inside could hear us, saying that it’s stupid, melodramatic, such a complete waste of time, “Are the Starworld people crazy to allot so much time to this shit”, “I don’t understand what has to go wrong with people’s brains for them to actually sit and watch this” and what not. There was also an instance where my mother was telling us about some friends who religiously watched Masterchef and the news together as a family every day (my father was very enthusiastic about adopting the news part into our family routine) and we were like o.O? Seriously? Masterchef of all things??

But guess what? We figured out what goes wrong.. actually we didn’t really figure it out; more like something went wrong with us too. My mother, brother and I watch Masterchef at 9 pm every day that it’s on. I don’t even remember why we started watching… At the time, it was kind of weird. We’d watch it between shows, during the ads in another channel, and we frequently forgot to go back to whatever it was we were watching. And Masterchef was showered with more of our critical crap. Now, we know all the people on the show, we try to predict the outcomes of the elimination challenges, team challenges and immunity challenges! We go “Oh, I wished she had gotten eliminated instead of him” “I can’t believe they gave that a 9 and the other one only a 7” “Holy shit! Did you see that? That’s insane! Crazy idiots..” Hehe, Masterchef is fun. We still make fun of it. Their metaphors and similies are simply to die for! :D

My father hasn’t been converted yet. He was appalled when we told him about it (btw, we still haven’t incorporated the news watching :P)… But don’t worry, give him some time, he’ll get hypnotized too.

Maybe you should start watching too. It's amazing for killing time!

Twin-Twin

I wish I had a twin. I have a brother; there's a very small age difference between us - not even 2 years. But he's still not a twin brother. I wonder if this a common thing people wish for. But then again, I wonder if most people spend as much time as I do with twins.

I've always had some association with twins.. Now, 3 my best friends are twins. Make what you will of that. :D

I've known quite a lot of twins actually.. 

> Twins who seem like they can actually read each other's minds. Which is like really cool for someone who wants a twin.

> The coolest type of twins though are the Yin-Yang types. They do exist, they're not just in books..It would have been so amazing if I'd had an evil twin.. Or even better if I was an evil twin!

> Pair of siblings who act like they don't give a shit about the other or are you know the typical siblings to each other. They kinda kill the whole awesome twin buzz... but eh, whatever.

When I'm bored sometimes and when I'm in other people's accounts, I pretend to be an evil twin of myself or that after years of being suppressed and tortured; I somehow managed to escape the dungeons and free myself from the wrath of my evil twin. That's fun. Some people get freaked. Others think I am a freak.

I think about how it might've been if I had a twin or triplet even.. (But triplettism is asking for a bit too much right? Besides, I don't know any triplets. I wish I did)

Hey, maybe we'd be or might/could have been telekinetic evil-good twins!!

Sigh but time travel to the past isn't possible, so maybe I'll have or adopt (by chance, of course) telekinetic evil-good twin kids.. that would be awesome too.

Trivia

Siamese twins - named after Chang and Eng Bunker (naturally they were conjoined twins) who were born in Siam, Thailand. 

Universal Brotherhood

This topic has been a favorite for all KV's and some other CBSE schools for a while... It was given to my class, among thousand others I'm sure, as an article to be written as homework. This is one of the only essays that I like that I've written for school. 


Consider the schools in Trivandrum to be a universe (or earth or world, whichever). Each school represents a nation. The students of each school, speaking for the general crowd, are devoted to their name, irrespective of whether they actually like going there. It is more the case of an identity. Loyolites with their pack mindset epitomizes. You often hear people say, "You mess with one of them and it's like provoking an army." This is not to say that the other schools are any different.

While this may be a good thing; students watching out for one another and providing support and all that, there is an ugly side to it too. Ugly because there's domination in strength of numbers over reason, development of a mob mentality, ridiculing others and considering them inferior - all because they have allegiance to another name; because their parents put them in a different school. All of this is the exact opposite of universal brotherhood.

But try imagining this... Remove all the separate groups of collective identities but keep the passion for one another and the looking out for others part. If this happens, it will widen everyone's mental  horizon, break narrow ideas and in short;create a world of reason and compassion. A place of universal brotherhood.