नंगू

Start From Scratch.. Or Not!

Yeah, I am back and I shall write.



I have been busy as hell the past one year dealing with a really 'professional' student life offered by the institute I am currently enrolled in. Yet again and like every other year, I pray I pass gracefully or, with grace marks.. whichever suits the teachers.

I have also shut down my Facebook page in order to flee from difficult folks, useless communication with unimportant people and updates that form the basis of a compelling today.

Last year was spent staying up nights finishing assignments, creating a really bad impression on a particular teacher (who is to decide my fate from the coming year) and traveling Bombay in local trains. The last year was also particularly happening for me because it was the first time I was away from my place for such a long time.. away from my parents, being independent. God, it sucks when stuff doesn't come ready-made. Seriously.
Also, I read a sufficient amount of books.. most of which I came to know through this bookslut and I do not bear a certain sense of pride when I say this but I am the kid who read the most number of books in my college. The reason why I am not proud of this apparent achievement is because design students don't read much at all and those who say they do.. well, they just say they do.
A formal list shall be put up as a separate post one of these days.

Home is good. For one, I get edible food to eat and two, I literally do whatever it is that I want to do.. which is not much considering I continue to be the lazy fuck I have always been.

I watch more T.V. than I read. I read more than I sleep. I sleep more than ever. So yeah, twenty-fours time makes for an insufficient day.

The coming semester is going to be a new pain in the ass. I am supposed to work with:
1. various design software
2. uncompromising models
3. judgmental teachers
4. ignorant working partners
5. surprising flat-mates
6. a new laptop
7. an epic camera.. hopefully
8. a back-ache
..if I said any further, I'd just be trying too hard to reach for a perfect 10.

Anyway, there are movies waiting to be seen, books willing to be read and a bed waiting to be slept on.

Yeah, I am back and I shall write.. later.

Can't Help But Wonder..

I can't sleep tonight. It's just this trail of thoughts that keeps me awake. Nothing serious. Thoughts seem to come to me one after the other and I notice that in the darkness of my room and the little blue light from my speaker that illuminates it minimally, a weird shadow imprinted on the ceiling. It's my left hand over there! Excited by this sudden gush of child-like curiosity, I start painting my ceiling with the short-lived shadows I can create with my hands acting like some manipulative but sincere pair of models. Folding, bending, twisting both my hands to cast a shadow like that of a little rabbit, a dog (with no noticeable change from the rabbit's), a stone (easiest), a moving evil eye (by joining the index finger with the thumb, aligning the other three fingers behind the index finger and using the thumb of the other hands to move between it's corners to make it look like the moving iris of the eye keeping track of every movement inside the room), makes me really believe in a sort of a mystical randomness.



It's getting cold these days and I need a blanket to put me off to sleep. I keep the fan switched on though. My feet are all cold and numb. I don't like it one bit, this way. So I jolt up to cover them properly (and this time, with great caution because I really do want to go off to sleep and dream until the end of time). You know, the thing is... I hate to think knowingly.

So there I am lying on my bed like a log with no apparent movement, trying really hard to concentrate on black and desperately waiting for Mr. Sandman to do his job on me. As I lie here staring at my pillow kept next to me, I feel...

"...Wait a second!" I say to myself, realizing that my pillow lay beside me and not under my head like it is for most people. So, I stare at my pillow thinking how lonely it must feel just lying there all by itself as if it is not required. I kinda know this feeling. It's familiar. Like a déjà vu, I picture myself as this little girl patting her small little pillow as if it were her dog then pressing the fast forward button, and jumping ahead a few years from then, I see this exact picture of me holding my pillow, asking if it got hurt when under my head.


Over the years I have changed relatively and I consider myself a way more matured person than I was then so why is that even now, after ten long years this feeling to only feel for the scientifically 'non-living' remains? I chuckle at myself in that darkest light like a vamp from some TV serial and look at my pillow scornfully and say it in my head "Yeah, I remember.."

...

I am this stupid psycho who has never had a pillow under her head from the time she first felt sorry for her pillow and apologized for having hurt him (!?). This feeling is not new. I have been a girl who has been feeling sorry for her pillows all her life.

Mystical randomness, is it?

With Ribbons Undone

I had always been this lazy kid who would prefer sleeping her ass off for most part of the active hours. In the evening I'd stay back home sleeping or watching Dexter's Laboratory. Often I'd be dragged out of my bed by hyper active girls who had no interest what so ever in the great Dexter. I'd curse them in my head for ruining my program for the evening. Being a skinny little fuck that I still am I was better than the other fatsos in all the games. However I was amongst the kiddos who'd want to play tough. Yup! I liked being a hero [!?], I'd run around like a cheetah, act like a mediator in random cat fights, get myself skinned and what not. Yeah, a total wannabe was all I was, yet happy.
It sometimes amuses me to see how happy I have been all my life. Maybe, that's because I never cared enough to pay heed to the bad stuff that came my way.
I was never a careful person as a girl. Dressing up well, talking like girlie girls, being cute was something too far fetched for me, for the people I have been with all my life is my brother and his friends.
It pains me to see how I have changed relatively. I now live a rather clean life, get myself waxed in time, get myself a haircut done every 3-4 months. I apply kaajal and tie my hair neatly.

Argh, I disappoint myself to the core!
Whatever happened to the good old days when I'd skip my bath to lazily lie around watching Cartoon Network? The days when I'd run around the house like a maniac to get in the way of my brother and his love, Mathematics. The days when I'd never apply a moisturiser on my fugly face. The days when I never cared for what I was or what I appeared to others.

*sigh*

.. I don't want to grow up Mom, at least not tonight.