Happy New Year?

It doesn’t seem like the new year. It just doesn’t! No ‘oh my god the year is over!’ or ‘it just flew!’  crap. It doesn’t feel like the new month has begun. You know, if you’re the kind too,  to have  color coded months or  days, and in your mind the calender automatically takes a darker shade with the passing days. Well, if you don’t  then tough luck you!

I seem to have gotten back to the cravings of coke from back in school, times when I could actually finish a 300ml bottle,willingly. Over time I got rid of it, but the core of your self still remains that eh? Heavy stuff for something seemingly stoopid.

I finally got me cycle! After having said it over the last eight months, yeah I’m getting one soon, and, you know, the likes of the blah. Ahh, I’m basking in the glory of owning one.

Anyway, more to look forward to! It after all is the new year, even if it doesn’t seem like it is. But it IS!

So happy new year! I guess?

Insane

I feel like I’m becoming a character out of a Jhumpa Lahiri novel. Caught between cities, ever confused about what I belong to.

There is only one thing I know I’m attached to. And, I think all girls eventually try to understand their moms. Or maybe, they just become them. The existence of such relationships leave me confused. Because what I believe in, I know they won’t even try and understand them, but then the things they’ve tried to teach me over the years, I’ve finally reasoned out not to agree with.

I think Hyderabad only leaves me depressed now. I have nothing to look forward to in this city. When I got onto the train, I held back. The minute we reached, I knew I never should have got on at all.

I want to go home, because my mom wants me home. But I don’t want to go home.

All this while I was okay with the course I’m doing. No more. And I don’t even know what interests me, or what might hold my interest long enough.

I’ve also lost all motives to do anything. I think that’s the worst that can happen. To lose drive to want to do anything! I want to look forward to something. Anything at all. Competitively. Not just do something because I have to be doing it. Even if it was want that drove me, it would seem good enough perhaps.

I hated the movie ‘Into the wild’. Last night my sickness only made me feel like that. And the more I thought of the movie the more the vomit would instigate. Eeyuck!

Right now I wait for four days to pass.

Of times unknown

The end of the year reminds me all over of how I’d thought I’d give semester reviews which I’d postponed to doing yearly. And now I’ll probably end up doing at the end of the four years. It’s because the posts begin to write in my head and half way there they need to spill it out onto paper or some form of being recorded. Which hence end up just in the head.

I was reading emails from another lifetime. If they had picked up emails once, over time to see how people changed, they can be found in mine too. How I had also once begun with the whole ‘lolz’ (I hope I didn’t use the term even if I’d picked up the language!) and then moved on to framing sentences which made sense (Instead of ‘r u cuming?’) and then eventually using punctuation marks too. Using the internet is very similar to the blogging phases too, isn’t it?

All kids ought to be sent off for graduation, or they’ll remain just that for longer than most. Sometimes I find it difficult to relate with the people I knew back in Hyd once upon a time. Another world can’t be blamed if you haven’t attempted to exist there, can it?

Illustration – just beginnning.  Semester V – A fortnight to go!

Ironic

I’ve reached the beginning of the cycle all over again. It’s hilarious. I read blogs wondering what people write about. Read my own, wondering what I should be.

Just, to keep in touch.

Apart from trying to keep this blog updated, which has only reduced in the recent past, I don’t think I’ve made that effort to try and keep in touch, or narrate the random happenings of my everyday life. Even to myself.

It’s not really my fault. i just have not found the time at all. People from the department are easier, since it’s the work that happens simultaneously with every thing else. And the breaks hence taken together too.

What essentially instigates me to write this whole load of crap, is how a piss-off with a friend, drove her to email in brief about what she has been upto, in stead that’s what she was asking of me to do.

She’s always done that, and her witty and hilarious mails have often inspired me to do so as well. Not that I ever got down to doing that anyway!

It makes sense though, doesn’t it? When we blame distances and other million things for “moving apart”, it easily is understood here, that when you don’t quite know what’s going on, you really don’t know where to begin at all. And of course we change. We bloody hell need to. So the crap about ”oh she’s changed!” If that’s what you want to rant about, seriously, don’t even bother.

It is ironic that, even when you’re writing for your self always, it is a world you hardly make any sense of read about what you do, and the people that want to know, you don’t find time to do so.

P.S : If you’re still willing to talk, with me half distracted. Go ahead, I’m sick and tired of this.

Bah! I hate naming ’em posts!

Over the last week I’ve probably written, or at least begun to have written a lot of posts in my head. I think they would’ve come out quite nice as well. Pity.

I just have gists of all that I wanted to write about.

One was as usual about the work I have at hand. Another, was an if-i-broke-up-what-i-would-be-”looking for” post. It’s something I only want to write about. Not that it should happen or anything. No, no. I wouldn’t want that at all. And another was something about him and blah blah.

Bah. Forget about titles. I hate writing these entire posts itself!

About me.

I think I’ve left behind that zest I had that would always bring me here to scribble some stoopid minor thought, that took inspiration from another of the above. Either I don’t get the time? Or will to do so? But I like writing. No matter how horribly. Just to leave traces of the some million phases.

What am I doing right now?

:

Almost finishing this assignment, which makes me postpone my last day at the internship, because I have to get it printed.

Trying to calculate the time I have, considering I’ve quite some pending work to do, but I have to go home. Mommy calls.

Simultaneously, looking up other stuff I’m interested in, wanting to do them too.

Waiting for him to call.

Trying to gather the random things I intend to pick up in time for their birthdays.

Listening to the radio. It’s been quite a while since I did that.

In other worlds::

My phone’s more than fucked. Now I have to find other buttons with which the buttons I want to use to work. It is new. It is not fair.

I want to watch a movie. Juggle that too?

I hope to manage to catch the Delhi Half Marathon. Perhaps I need to get back into shape to be doing that. But I want to. That encouragement enough?

Why does this post have so many questions? Randomly, too?

In a year, I’ll be out. Out of college. And working. Ehmm. The freedom will end then. In other terms.

I don’t think I ever had a problem about not having time. This college does eat up a lot of it. Please let’s hope it will be worth it in the end. I’m not sure though. I’m still wondering if I’m interested in what I’m doing. I’m doing it, yes. But eventually? As a career? Fashion Design? *Cough*

I had begun with wanting to write about something else. I’ve ended up elsewhere.

Content

I’m living the life I’ve always hoped would turn out like this. Where, my only priority is work. The only fixed time I have during the day is, when I leave, and then the day goes on. 11 pm, 5am or 7. Returning home only seems to be a task to be achieved, to prepare ourselves for the mountain that is to begin the following day. 

My working with this company for last season’s Wills Fashion Show was a very minute learning as in comparison to the internship right now. I probably have only expanded my understanding into what precisely goes behind this entire event, held twice a year, and the amount that is actually put into it. 

It isn’t something I get to be creative about or use any kind of skill that I might assume I would have, but I like this kind of work as well. Where we get to be almost like the backbone of the entire event. My contribution would almost be nil, but to watch these guys who’re hardly any older, put in so much, unflinchingly is quite encouraging. And with a staff of just about 8 people, the entire show is handled.  EVERYTHING. Name it. They’re doing it. About four months of work goes into the making of the one week. Twice a year. And then there’re a million other projects to handle as well. 

My doing this was all in all a suprise as well. From preparing myself to attend  my cousin’s engagement. The day we were to leave for McLeodganj was when we had the interview. The interview was for the fashion week, while they were looking out for interns as well. 

It’s been a hectic month. The system fucking our existing fucked up system in college. Where we almost ended up with a month of submissions. Every. Single Day. Then, the exams. Then, the trip. And, this. Quite some time before it finishes as well.

All in all, I’m quite enjoying it all. So far,at least.

Life goes by.

I’d wonder where to begin, but I think i have sufficiently enough, to rant about, as ever. In revenge, for I wonder what, our department has been fucked. So bad, that they thrashed us the entire last two weeks, like never before. This, had to have been officially the worst, ever. Ever. Anyway, we still did manage to survive it all, looking back, we wouldn’t know how as well.

McLeodganj was awesome. Simply, because. Our two day random impulsive getaway. Missing the last direct bus, we caught four buses to finally get there. But, once we were there, all was forgotten. Getting there was quite an adventure too. It has these shacks, every alternate catering with various cuisines. Coffee shops, and few countable Indians. The weather was to die for, after the sultry, humid, irritating, heat from here. The food was much enjoyed, so was the stuff. We stayed there for just about twenty four hours, and all we did was indulge.

Sleep still hasn’t been caught on. Doesn’t look like it will anytime soon either. And, today Delhi was visited like the old times. Randomness in all it’s meaning. Shopped. And, ehmm, Drona.

It’s quite a good movie, you know. Somehow, even typing that, made me want to kill myself. Bollywood’s worst period is here. One terrible movie after another. Jaane Tu.. Singh is Kinng. Rock On. Drona. C’mon, can’t we come up with anything even remotely tolerable?

I can’t wait to see him. It’s been a long time. It always seems that way, anyway.

Another day to go before we’re back to the grind.

All hail!

Unassumed.

Today I think I’ve truly failed myself. But I fail to understand what went wrong with my actions. Agreed I gave myself a grace period to settle down before I began paying attention to what I was doing. But by the time I realised it was maybe a teeny bit late. I’m not giving up just yet, though. Two more years. Hopefully I can still cover up.

The last couple of months, my focus been directed forcefully to, but nothing else. The only time I’ve stepped out of this radius of 2 kms. is I manage to meet him. Days have become shorter and shorter. The complete lack of sleep has been forgotten about. But still ironically, the work has all just been labour. Nothing has been even remotely intelluctually stimulating. The kind of work that I’ve been wanting to do. And the one thing I was looking forward to has been denied. It has probably been my doing that has brought about this. But I only feel I have disappointed myself.

Revenge shall be taken.

In all other worlds, I’ve forgotten what sleeping on my own bed feels like. Working in college late, last evening, brought back memories. I don’t think this semester, I have stayed beyond 6 in college ever. I like the tiny campus when dark. Makes me look forward to the cosy winters. All that runs through my mind all day, is a check list of the work done and the amount left. Along with another calculating how long will it take to be left with nothing at all.

What has become of me.