Goodness gracious me...I didn't realize it, and the application deadlines have suddenly crept up on me, dark, menacing shadows, tantalizingly alluring because of what they have to offer.

Engineering? Why engineering? Now, I can't very well say that I would like to apply for an engineering course because my father wants me to be an engineer, beause he had wanted to be an engineer but his parents wanted him to become a doctor, and being the model son, he paid obeisance to his parents, while his younger brother was more rebellious and went on to become an engineer (Ooh yes! My idea of rebellion- one year of physics at Stephens becasue you couldn't clear IIT-JEE in the first go, then going on to study textile engineering at IIT Delhi, and playing basketball for the IIT team (IIT has sports- surprise!surprise!- what's more they even have a humanities/social sciences department, though I suspect they're defunct :p)). Nor can I say that well I am applying for engineering courses because my faher thinks that career in engineering (or for that matter medicine) is a short-track road to the money. Yeah, baby, show me the money. Isn't money exactly what I always crave? All right, even if I accept Aarohi's argument that I look uopn materialistic people with disdain because I've grown up practically in the lap of luxury and can afford to be condescending towards those to whom money means everything.

I don't want to study merely to gain an employable degree, I want to study to gain knowledge, and to (ah, darn the cliche!) broaden my horizons.

Now, coming to why the applications overwhelm me:

a) I'm afraid I'm aiming higher than my worth

b) I'm applying for financial aid, which basically brings my chances at non-needblind places down to ZERO!

c) I'm afraid that the recommendations my teachers have written for me make me sound like a very ordinary student, the kind that teachers don't actually care for, or would care to remember

d) The magnitude of the implications, my dear, the sheer magnitude!

I suppose it is the realization of the magnitude of difference made by a great application vs. an ordinary (or merely good) application that scares me.

I am not taking any external help, just attempting to play the field on my own, and I'm afraid that is a huge risk!

I had my MIT interview a couple of weeks ago (they have interviews for all the candidates that apply), and, expectedly, it did not go well. The interviewer, this bigshot in a pseudo-Victorian office, asks me- 'What makes you special?' for a moment there, I felt like replying, if I knew what made me special, I would have more self-confidence and would be more self-assured. However, that is of course not the best way to, ahem, 'market' yourself. That is what you're supposed to, and expected to, do- market yourself as a different, intellectual, passionate commodity (if commodities can be passionate). Isn't that just  the very thing that I would be comfortable doing?

I think I just mumbled some answer which in all likelihood was neither sensible nor adequate. I say, in all likelihood, because frankly I have NO recollection of what I had said.

The recommendations scare me, because I'm afraid none of them sound like they come from the heart and they all make me sound very mediocre. No teacher has given personal instances, or any anecdotes of any sort which could make the recommendations more personal.

Stanford, obviously, I won't be able to do anything for, because the deadline is well day after tomorrow, but for the other universities and colleges, I need to have some brainstorming sessions and arrive at something outstanding. I do NOT want inconsiderate teachers to ruin my chances- I do NOT want them to bring everything I have done over all these years go to waste- and I hope that because some people have their results fudged, and I have more integrity than to allow for such a thing, I don't stand at a disadvantage.

I should hope not, dude!

Oh, did I mention how much some of the essay topics make me THINK? I mean, true, I have been writing for years now, and I have learnt to deal with topics that are obscure/vague/plain weird. However, the realization of the sheer magnitude of the possible consequences of the application essays overwhelms me. what are the competition essays for- a trophy, some money, a certificate? The really important competitions, such as the Commonwealth competition, I usually don't do very well in, since well, as usual, I think too much over them. My diary entries are often more interesting because they're more passionate, more natural- not quite so forced.

Ah well...all's well that ends well, I suppose. Therefore, i his does end well for me, that would be good. Else, well, what if I land up in Shaheed Bhagat singh College, evening shift? Okay, no. I won't. I know it. I am better than that. Of course I am.

Shruti- get a grip. Believe in yourself, please!

 

Looking at you, I’m thinking-

Thinking about how this could’ve been

Thinking about how it could’ve been me,

Right there, always, by your side.

But it isn’t, because you chose it to be so,

You chose her, not me.

Loved her, not me.

I still cry myself to sleep, still think of you,

Pine for you.

I sound like a melodramatic fool,

Looking for what is not.

But if you’d stop to think, it need not be this way.

I’m called a fool, a fool in many’s eyes,

To desire someone who desire’s me not,

Yet you are all I want, for their jeers care not.

Won’t you have, have me for once?

Let me sound like a clichéd idiot,

But you’ll make me complete,

Fill this gaping lacuna, this enormous gash,

That threatens to tear my soul apart.

Trying to keep up pretences,

And never quite succeeding.

It is not for me to smile when I’m crying,

Not for me to be calm when I’m angry.

I am everything that you see,

I hold back nothing, for I have nothing to hide.

I said I would write about it, so here, I am writing about it, nearly a month after I returned (not that I would know it was so long after if it were not for the calender- I don't know how time just manages to fly me by).

Hmm...don't know how to do this- should I just chronicle it like a travelogue- did this on Day 1 and that on Day 2? Well, it might turn outboring that way, and I will ramble, but I think that is the easiest and most straightforward way of going about it.

 

Erm, we were informed about 20 days before we were to leave that we were going. All three of us (Rukman, Sayantani and I) had an inkling that we would be going to go, but it wasn't confirmed. Besides there was another boy, Agneya, who (in retrospect) I think deserved to go as well, but that is another story.

 

Well, so before we left we had to get projects readya nd pop by school nearly every day for over a week while the summer vacation were still on, and not get anything done (nothing of much consequence, that is, except my first taste of the much-hyped Chowringee rolls, a huge favourite with most Springdalians). We also had to buy gifts for our hosts, who at that point, we knew absolutely ntohing about- no names, no nationalities- NOTHING! but, yes, buying gifts was fun, because I got to buy things for myself from Dili Haat and Janpath, which is not something I get to do very often :D!

 

Hmm...I should get on with the actual trip.

We left on the morning of Friday, July 7, BA Flight No. 256. You don't really care, do you? Anyway, word of caution: BA sucks, at least, if you're flying economy. The airhostesses act so uppity and arrogant, and don't know the first thing about service.

Warned you I would ramble.

 

                                    At the IGI Airport

 

Reached Heathrow around one thirty or so, and had a bit of a baggage scare, as I couldn't locate my main suitcase. *Scary- it had ALL, and I mean ALL, of my favourite clothes :p*. So, here I am, trying frantically to locate my missing suitcase, and the others were busy gaping at Liz Hurley and her fiance Arun Nayyar. Ah, the perils of celebrity idolatry. (Though I admit she looked quite gorgeous in that designer (I assume) white pant-suit, and over-sized sunglasses- though it beats why they must wear sunglasses indoors when most people, except recluses from society like me, can recognize them anyway, sunglasses or no?)

 

Anyhow, once suitcase was located, and we were met at Heathrow by Mr. Steed and Christina and Freddie (lucky for them that they were late, or else they would've had to wait quite long; and lucky for us we couldn't find my suitcase or we would've had to wait so long), we set out for the school, Impington Village College.

 

We were met there by all of our hosts, and decided randomly who would host whom, and strangely enough, things worked out quite perfectly. For instance, Rukman, who is a very talented dancer,and a pretty good artist, and very, very friendly, was hosted by Jess who is a a very talented artist, a pretty good dancer and also very friendly.  Basically, all three pairs were quite well-matched, and by sheer chance and nothing more.

 Rukman and Jess

Alessia and I (couldn't find a photograph of Sayantani and Freddy together though)

 

 Well, after we'd been greeted and introduced, and had had juice and cookies, I picked up my bags and lugged them to Alessia's host parents' house. We had dinner there (some sort of eggy quiche- quite disgusting, because I hate eggs!), and I really wanted to get away because I just developed an instinctive dislike for Barbara (Alessia's host mother). Not that she was rude or anyhting, she was just STRANGE, and seemed a tad condescending.

 

Anyhow, so Alessia, Julia (another girl that Barbara hosts- also a sixth former at IVC), and I went walking around Impington and Histon- I can't quite tell one from the other- they're so close together. But, yes, they're both so REMARKABLY quaint. They immediately brought back memories of the Enid Blyton books I read as little child- the post-office, the village church, and little stores, and pubs at every corner, and oh, the cutest little houses! Very quintessentially English.

 

After this little sojourn around the villages, Alessia and I left for the annexe, which was essentially the guest quarters of the house of friends of Alessia's family. I was tired out that night, and so was Alessia, so after a spot of unpacking, we both went off to sleep.

 

Next morning (erm, afternoon really, but let's not get nit-picky), we met the others- Freddy, Christina, Raj, and Sayantani in the City Centre in Cambridge, and spent the morning just looking around, especially at fudge being made at this little shop just opposite King's College (mmm...delicious fudge it was too!). We visited the Arts and Crafts market, and looked at the library where a painting by Christina was on display, and also some of Lydia's work on India (Lydia was a part of the exchange last year- Ridhi's host).

 

       At the Arts and Crafts Market (L to R: me, Freddy, Alessia, and Sayantani)

 

After all this roaming about, we settled down by the river with loaves of bread and humus to watch people punt, and laugh at all the silly things people did- there were people dressed as cowboys in PINK sombreros, attempting to squirt us with water pistols, but not suceeding! And, it was fun to watch people fall-*splat!*-into the dirty-looking river water! The most fun part was when Freddy's boyfriend, Jake, who punts part-time to earn some money passed by on a punt with a women's club or something, and they (the women on the punt) started asking us who Jake's girlfriend was, and we all pointed at Freddy, and the poor girl was sooo embarrassed.

 

That's all for now- I've only just detailed one and a half days so far, but this rather tedious work, at least the way I'm going about it, so ta!

Watch this space (this very article) for more to come- if you care, which I don't think is likely).

 

Hmm...finally returning to one lone post after a hiatus of over one and a half months. Crazy, right?

 

Coming back to the day and a half that I'd detailed. The time spent by the river was followed by some time hanging out at Jesus Greens.

Went back to Barbara's place for dinner then, which fortunately was a lotbetter than the previous evening's, and met again at Jesus Greens. For awhile, it was fun, just hanging around with random strangers (well, not entirely- they were schoolmates of our hosts), but once there were too many of them, we (Sayantani and I- Rukman was spending the weekend with Jess in Bury-St.Edmunds- what a fascinating name!) began feeling rather out of place (not to mention cold!).

 

Next day, which was Sunday, I spent hanging around the market with Alessia in the afternoon. (fun- looking at all the SUPERHIGH prices, and saying how much it would be in India- especially at Monsoon where it seemed like practically everything was from India, which, I suppose, it indeed was!) This was followed by lunch/dinner (don't know meal it was- at 5 in the evening) at a lovely Italian place called Clown's (how charming!). AND then, of course, there on, it was all about la bella ITALIA!!! (Dude,this was the day of the World Cup Final- just to refresh your memory)

 

So even in a place like Cambridge, out of nowhere, there seemed to erupt Italians, with painted faces and the Italian tricolour, like the magma from the sleeping Mt. Etna rising suddenly in Southern Englan (stupid analogy- sorry!)

 

 

But oh, it was sooo fantastic! We were in this pub full of Italians caled Footlights (the pub, not the Italians)- almost an 'Italian ghetto'. And the tension in the air, the sheer atmosphere- fabulous! The nervousness on every face, the cries in Italian (some of which Alessia translated for me, while others she refused to :P)!

The first rench goal, the downcast looks, then Italy's equalizer! And the eruption of celebration!

All the missed chances and sighs of dismay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lazy woman, am I not?

Anyway I could offer tons of excuses for not updating, and they would all be perfectly legitimate and perfectly true. So here they go:

 

Hmm…so, the soccer World Cup has started- that one event where practically the entire world (sorry about the generalization- I know it isn’t true, but anyway…) glues themselves to their television screens to watch various sets of 22 men and one black-and-white spherical object, all running amok on a large field, surrounded by thousands of screaming, shrieking fanatics, attired in the playing countries’ national colours.

Am I beginning to sound dismissive of the soccer craze? Maybe.

Don’t get me wrong though. The women’s magazines (Femina etc) have been talking about ‘soccer widows’ all this while. Well, my husband/boyfriend would end up a ‘soccer widower’ because I would be hooked to the television. Or –better scenario- we could both sit together and guzzle beer, and hog potato chips (though I like neither beer nor chips- just the stereotype of the (predominantly male) soccer fans), watching the big games.

Anyway, coming back to my earlier dismissive sounding remarks. It is just that I’ve never quite understood what the point of sports fanaticism is. Sure, it does give a rush of adrenalin, but is that reason enough to go berserk and dye your hair in blue-and-white stripes, like Argentina fans across the world? I think not.

I’m content watching the games (any sport in fact- I play none- watch all…he he- lazy thing that I am, your quintessential couch tater) but I would prefer to preserve my sanity, whatever little I do have of it, as long as I can, instead of sacrificing it at the altar of Crespo or Riquelme.

I don’t even have a favourite team as such, but it would be good to see the two South American giants in the final. That should make for a good match. However, for reasons more complicated than a simple preference for a team (or even a particular hot player), I’d like to see England in the final. Hell, I’d like to see England win the final (though my dad thinks my reasoning, which I don’t feel like divulging, is very STUPID).

And, oh, I’m SO glad that Rafa won (yet again)! I don’t know why, but I’ve never particularly liked the FedEx, so it’s good to see Nadal upstage him. (For those of you who’re suddenly lost- I’ve switched sports, discussing tennis now- and REALLY if you’re trying to figure out who I’m talking about, stop reading RIGHT NOW, and go get a life.) Well, it was a good match. I got scared seeing Federer win the first set 6-1 (heart-breaking, how Rafa looked so nervous), but then the quirky King of Clay regained his composure, and got the next three sets to clinch the match and his second successive French Open Title, and, get this, SIXTIETH consecutive win on a clay court. Awesome!

(And, I just love his quirkiness, though he seems to have become more subtle now- love the lime green jersey…!)

                                 

 

 

Since the summer vacations are on, I’ve become the very embodiment of laziness. So, how’re my days spent? Watching cricket, tennis, soccer, Discovery Travel and Living (how did I LIVE before that channel started!), and oh, all sorts of absurd ‘news’ stories (news media= paparazzi? unfortunate.)

So, yes, apart from watching television (did I mention I finally saw two episodes each of Sex and the City and the OC, for the first time ever? Oh, shouldn’t have mentioned that- I can already see all the raised eyebrows, and hear the ‘Really? Go get a Life!’ comments), I have been reading and rereading books. Reading mostly pop-lit. - Both of Chetan Bhagat’s books, and a lot of fantasy, and rereading, what else, but ‘The Lord of the Rings’.

I’m not going to comment on ‘Five-point Someone’, because even though the book was not worthy of being called literature, I somewhat enjoyed it. ‘One Night@ the Call Centre’ on the other hand, is possibly the worst book I’ve ever read. The trouble is, Chetan Bhagat cannot write. His syntax is poor, his vocabulary seems weak (his justification is that since he is narrating in first person, bad grammar is acceptable – no, it isn’t to me), and Rupa Publications has done a pathetic job of editing. In his first book, he had a story to tell, drawn from his own experiences. However, this time around, it is just 289 pages of printed matter with neither substance nor style. What a waste!

Even though it took me just over two hours to read the book, I thought those were two hours wasted.

Hmm…but I did come across some gems though.

 Sample this:

           ‘Americans are sick,’ Vroom said, as he pointed to a US politician who had spoken out in support of the war. ‘Look at him. He would nuke the whole world if he could have his way.’

‘No, not the whole world. I don’t think they’d blow up China,’ said Priyanka, sounding high. ‘They need the cheap labour.’

 ‘Then I guess they won’t blow up Gurgaon either. They need the call centres,’ Radhika said.

‘So we’re safe,’ Esha said. ‘That’s good. Welcome to Gurgaon, the safest city on earth.’

 Thank you, Mr. Bhagat, for those profound words of wisdom. Now I’m perfectly assured that my house won’t be bombed while I’m asleep. After all, the Convergy’s call centre is only a stone’s throw away, n’est pas?

 Oh, and another one:

'Don’t even make me happy by mistake.’

Oh really?

This sentence (or whatever it actually is, pretending to be a sentence), is such a clear indication that the author is thinking in Hindi and translating it to English. Because in Hindi, the sentence sounds decent enough: ‘mujhe galti se bhi khush na kar dena.’ Very typical Punjabi mum jargon, but passable.

 And, oh, best of the lot:

‘The words ‘my wife’ sizzled my insides the way they fry French fries at McDonald’s.’

I have but one word for this last thought-provoking analogy- UGH! (Of course, the UGH also has something to do with the fact that it bears reference to my least favourite eating-out place)

 Let’s move on from the awful to the awesome. Rereading ‘The Lord of the Rings’ made me realize things that I hadn’t realized the first way around. For one, I noticed the sheer complexity and detail of the story, and even of all the tangential plots. Oh, the story in itself is not complex at all, but the entire account of the journey, and everything the fellowship comes across, is just brilliant. I can’t wait to read ‘The Silmarillion’ now.

Apart from that, I also realized how some of the characters have been developed so well. Sam Gamgee, for instance, is perhaps one of the best-portrayed characters. Saruman, despite having not being a well-developed character is also portrayed quite well. Frodo Baggins, of course, had been portrayed with a good amount of depth and understanding. Aragorn, too, has been portrayed well enough. And, oh yes, how could I forget, Sméagol? Sheer brilliance!

However, neither Gandalf nor Sauron do anything for me. It is possible to gauge something about Sauron from what others say about him, and from his actions, but Gandalf remains a blank till the very end, despite being, perhaps, the most important character in the book. Maybe that is just how Tolkien intended it to be. The stories and characters left unexplained are perhaps part of the literary effect.

Another thing I realized was how almost every instance in the book could be given a parallel with Second World War, and how the book appears replete with covert symbolism. However, Tolkien denies that the book has anything to do with WW II, even though it was written around the same time, and I’ll take his word for it.

Oh, one more thing that struck me as interesting. The book is so SEXIST!  There are a total of three somewhat important female characters in the book: Eowyn, Galadriel, and Arwen. That is it. True, they’re all women of strength and virtue, but just three characters? And the attitude of the male characters, including Aragorn (whom I otherwise adore), is what be termed as that of ‘male chauvinist pigs’. ‘The place of the woman is at home etc.’, all of that.

No wonder then, that I love Eowyn. She has the strength to speak out, and when her plea is not heard, she has the strength to disregard what her father and the man she loves have to say to her, and ride out into the battlefield, doing what she believes is right (somehow, something about her strikes me as Shakespearean, as of course, do the Ents). Though in the end, Eowyn too gives way, and settles in the role of Faramir’s beloved, her story is a poignant one for me.

And, oh, I love the story of anyone who is the left-out one in a love triangle. I remember watching ‘the Two Towers’ with my friends when it came out (8th grade, it was). Udit and I were the only ones who’d read the book, and we ended up having to tell everyone else what was happening. What a time!

But, oh, as usual, every memory of mine seems to be connected to that one person (out come the scorning looks and the smirks again- oh well!), this one is connected too. He was with, I think Arushi, at that time, and I remember thinking how it was as if he were Aragorn, Arushi Arwen, and I, Eowyn. And, I also remember wondering who my Faramir would be.

Now that I look back upon it, I wonder how I could have elevated him to the status of the lordly king, and Arushi to the status of an elven lady. Ouch! (Though I still hold that I’m Eowyn, and I’m still looking for my Faramir- someone like Faramir would be just perfect, really!)

 Won’t I find my Faramir, oh, won’t I? (Or maybe, I'll find an Eowyn!)

 

 

 

 

  

I am your average teenager.

 

Average in every way.

Average height- 5 feet 5 inches

Average weight; average built (maybe a little plump).

Average hair colour (a dark  brown, close to the colour of dark chocolate)

An average eye-colour (dark brown again).

 

Average intelligence, or so I guess.

Average awareness.

Your average writer, average painter.

Brushing the dangerous borders of mediocrity.

Below average singer, awful dancer.

 

Got your average taste in music.

Got your average taste in books.

Watch your average shows on television.

Watch the average movies at the cinema.

Got no above the average taste for the perfrming arts.

 

Your average teenager, I am.

Unremarkable in every way.

Your average student, your average classmate,

your average daughter, your average friend,

your average sister, your average crush.

 

 

And yet, even as I write this,

Why do I feel like I'm not just a number?

Misplaced idealism, the desires in my heart?

Is it all nothing, the meaning of individuality?

Of being your own person?

 

Am I then, a person extraordinaire

Disguised in the cloak of mediocrity?

Some who will have her place,

Somewhere amongst the stars?

Or am I...

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

just your average megalomaniac?

 

 

and oh..my page views are down to about one or two per day, from a high of over 200 a day.

Ouch!

Do you know how that hurts an attention-seeking crazy female like me? :p

 

I suppose you've read about the girl from Sanskriti school who commited suicide couple of weeks back, apparently due to parental pressure to pursue engineering.

I've been wondering (and so, I believe, has the rest of the country) about WHY she actually commited suicide and what drove her to take such an extreme step.

Come to think of it, it isn't that hard to understand.

The papers tell us she was a brilliant student.

The papers tell us she was outgoing and popular.

The papers tell us she had everything going for her.

Now come on...there have been times when I've felt suicidal. If I'd actually gone ahead and killed myself, I don't doubt that the papers would've said much the same thing.

For them, it is more about selling their stories than anything else.

However, is everything so easy?

Are teenagers' lives so uncomplicated and simple that a little pressure from the parents would drive us to suicide?

I don't think so,

It goes far beyond that.

Far, far beyond that. It extends to all the societal pressures we feel, it extends to the NEED, the pressing need, to succeed in this utterly sadistic world, it extends to all these expectations we've to live upto, not just the parents', but the schools', the friends', and most importantly, OUR own expectations from ourselves.

When we don't live upto our own expectations , we feel like the most miserable failures ever.

 

Now, seriously, if I'd had the means and motivation to commit suicide, it too would've made front-page news. I mean, after all, haven't I also got everything going for me: good grades, school prefect, talented writer and artist (gulp! self-indulgence?), fairly attractive, friendly, sociable (ahem, ahem...now I'm pushing it)...you get the picture

But for me, it would not have been so difficult to fathom why I would or could commit suicide.

So can we please not be so judgemental of Shaifali?

I mean, after all, often (more times than I would like to acknowledge) the only thing that held me back was either lack of means, or the uncertainity of the future. Even now, that is the only thing that keeps me from feeling utterly despondent: the future may be brighter than the present.

 

This girl was apparently at Narayana too. Distasteful incident: Manoj (the guy who takes the roll-cal everyday) was taking the attendance, and when he came to this girl's name, someone answers 'Dead'. Ugh.

How distasteful can you get?

 

Oh, and another thing, just WHY are parents so pushy? Why would they want to push their children into doing something that they don't want to, at the very great risk of LOSING those children?

I fail to understand this entirely.

I'm just glad that my parents aren't pushy, but then I've willingly settled into pursuing your cliched middle-class dream of IIT, so why would they object?

 

Ha...finally have some time to blog again!

Usually when I'm on the internet these days, I don't know when I might have to suddenly shut the computer (long story- those who ought to know, know it already!)

So well, now that I'm assured of some time online, so I might as well write.

 

Except, as usual, I have nothing to write about. Hehe.

 

I could write about crime and morality, and how morality varies from indicidual to individual, thus making it difficult to classify an action as a crime, and how what may be right. may not necessarily be lawful and vice versa (inspiration: Crime and Punishment)

 

I could write about IIT etc. (not again, you say, eh?). Ah well, won't then. (inspiration: Five-point Someone- crap book, and it's scary...hehe)

 

I could write about how 'Go fug Yourself' is an absolutely incredibly hilarious blog- with Heather and Jessica's own brand of celebrity fashion police.

  http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/

 

I could write more about the whole reservation issue, but, really, though it does concern most of us directly, do we really want to hear/read/talk anymore about it? I don't. I've had about enough (and more, much more).

 

I could write my own fantasy story- yet another Lord of the rings rip-off...hehe (like the books I've been reading- the Bartimaeus trilogy, Artemis Fowl series, and most notably (and noticeably plagiarised) Eragon.)

 

Talking of plagiarism, I could pass my own judgements on Kaavya Vishwanathan's blatant copying, and seeming lack of conscience. Or, I could rip the media off for mercilessly destroying the girl's life.

 

I could also write about, erm, the board results (which were quite good, though not quite as good as usual). Dreaded chemistry was quite miserable, so all the more reason to dread it :p.

I

 could write about death, and how it is strange ho I've been lucky enough to never have had to deal with death- of anyone who was close to me. It's also rather uncanny how I've nevr seen a dead body despite all the accidents that occur on the streets. Perhaps I just unknowningly shut my mind to it.

 

I could write about summer vacations (or the lack of them :p).

 

I could write about the golden ratio- phi, or about the chirality of the universe.

 

I could write about the da Vinci Code controversies, and about how Indians love protesting.

 

I could write about how relationships are not meant for me, and how I can never manage to maintain them. About how I tend to take everyone for granted, and cannot feel attached to anyone easily.

 

I could write, in short, about dozens of different things.

But, guess what?

I'm not writing about any of those.

So there

Ha!

 

 

 

I know that everyone around me is absolutely sick and tired of my whining, but once again, I'm out to whine away my blues.

 

Going through another one of those phases of dejection, and depression (dude, it's not PMS, before you start thinking that). This is actually more like PSFB- pre school-function blues.

Every time there is a major function in school, I feel low. Why? simply because I have nothing to do, while everyone around me seems so busy.

Oh well...

 

So, how many times have I said this before- I feel like I'm absolutely no good. Merely a worthless, good-for-nothing, nobody and nothing.

 

I am nothing more than a megalomaniac who thinks far too highly of herself- thinks of ehrself as intelligent, attractive, talented, when she isn't really any of these. A stupid person who actually feels hurt to realize that others are not as delusional about her qualities as she is. A fool who thinks she could actually make a success of her life, when EVERYONE around her KNOWS she will be a failure, a damned miserable failure.

 

I am NOTHING.

I am NOBODY.

 

My life, nay, my existence, serves no purpose. What existence does my existence serve? None at all.

Tomorrow I could be dead and gone, and there'd be no one to remember me.

My 'family' and 'friends' may shed a few tears, as it is customary to, but will they care? No, they wouldn't care at all.

I'm simply one of those insignificant people whose existence holds no meaning to anyone else but themselves.

 

And, oh, I feel like such a misfit in tis school that is Springdales.

Surrounded by so many talented, self-assured people.

I feel like such a poseur, a fake.

 

 

Note:

(added on 12th May)

I was complaining and whining more out of a need to whine and complain, not out of any real reason.

Life has its crests and troughs, and maybe last week was a trough, while this week is a crest. 

Yeah, the house song competition had me feeling really low, what with everyone so busy with practices and all, but it isn't as if I'm really a 'NOTHING' and a 'NOBODY' and I know that well enough.

So what if I can't sing and dance, or play sports?

Gah!

There's other stuff I can do, I guess.

 

 

I'm going absolutely insane. Not to say that I ever was quite sane, but these days I've become even nuttier.

I've been cracking absolutely absurd jokes, and acting in a very strange manner.

This afternoon, for instance, in the zero period in school, I kept walking up and down the corridor, sometimes skipping, sometimes running, sometimes just staring out the windows, or peering into other classes, talking to people I hadn't talked to for months, maybe, as if I knew them very well- was just feeling very restless.

 

and then, yesterday, and this afternoon, we've all been behaving very strangely in the bus- waterfights (okay, that is understandable- it's getting hot now) and I've been playing with all these younger kids- and just going absolutely crazy.

(and, ugh! this sandwich I'm attempting to eat is awful- made it this morning for breakfast, didn't have time to eat it, so wrapped it up and took it along with me to school, forgot to eat it then, and just remembered that it was lying around so heated it and am now trying to eat it, but I think the attempt will be unsuccessful...hehe)

 

I'm just feeling very restless, and unfocused. I need something productive to do, before I actually go crazy!

I've been close to having those bouts when I think I'm absolutely worhtless etc. etc. So far, I've been able to stave them off, but I don't know if I could hold them off any longer.

For me, achievement is a very objective thing. I need to achieve something in clearly defined ways to make myself feel better (though of course, even then, I end up thinking that I didn't really deserve it, but that is besides the point).

 

So, yeah, I am afraid my neurons are all dormant. They are not quite dead, merely in a state of induced comatose perhaps. I don't know what induced this state though- probably just that I've not really been 'thinking'.

 

The reshuffling test is there of course, but knowing that I have so much syllabus to cover in so little time is all the more reason for me to go crazy.

And, oh, we've got a wonderful physics teacher at Narayana now (thank goodness, we don't have to tolerate those awful replacements anymore) but there is too little time, and too much syllabus to cover. I'd love to have this new teacher as my teacher for phases 4 and 5. Odd, though, how the batch isn't quite pleases with him either. Obviously, still hung up on Neeraj (yes, akshay, I know you consider him 'God'- I'm not mocking you for that again- haha! not as if it even matters, akshay doesn't even read this!).

 

Ah, further example of my craziness:
Y.E.S. (Youth for Equal society/Youth for Equality in Society)- an idea that Samar and I have been contemplating, and would you believe it, seriously too. Reminds me of this club that I ( and I think, Sayantani, or was it Isha?) had attempted to start back in sixth grade- actually made people fill up forms and everything...hehe- bring about social changes, protect the environment etc. etc. I'm not sure what we called it though it was something silly- somehting like 'diamonds of tomorrow' or something. I don't even remember- I've such bad memory when it comes to somethings!

So, well, anyway, let's see what we make of this. Hopefully, we'll actually manage to be active, since we are older, and more 'mature', seniormost in school, hehe.

 

 

The above photograph, by the way, is not one of some preternatural spirit.

It is merely the consequence of what you get when you let a really, really stupid person handle a HandyCam, and they try to photograph themselves.

Quite scary, eh?

Or, as I attempted to alliterate on my hi5 profile, a hideously horrible horror!

 

Content now, Palkein? And comment before I must subject you to a torture chamber!

That goes for the rest of you as well. Will you please quit being so passive and lazy, and actually take the trouble to comment, at least every now and then (even if the entry does not pertain to you. Am I attempting to insinuate someone? Yes, I am.)?

 

NOTE:

I am not the only one here who is crazy. My parents have bought a Cyber-shot and a HandyCam in the space of one week! Don't ask me why!

Also, when Ashita came over, what did we do? We played JENGA! We completed 31 stories in a 52 block game! (for those of you who don't know what Jenga is, I'll explain later). And, yeah, then we started doing crazy things with it- building suspension bridges, guitars, sitars, qutab Minar, Stonehenge...hehe. Fun to do stupid, childish things!

Yes, I know, some people have been wondering whether I'm still alive. Yes, I am!

There are just two simple reasons why I haven't blogged for so long:

a) I didn't have the time to blog; and

b) I had nothing to blog about, that would've prompted me to put everything aside and blog.

 

I had thought to myself that I would blog only when I had something other than engineering colleges, or anything related to them in whatever way, to write about.

However, most of my thoughts for the past two/three weeks have revolved only around them, and I really didn't want to bore everyone with details of how we've been pleading with the Narayana authorities to get Neeraj (our former physics teacher) back, or how stressful studying for the reshuffling test is.

 

Erm, I really don't have anything to write. So, why am I still writing? Why don't I just stop here, and press the button that say 'Publish Entry'? Because, see, I am hoping that while I attempt to ramble on aimlessly, something of interest may strike me.

Umm, Jama Masjid bomb blast? Got nothing to say. Italian elections? Again, got nothing to say. Up-coming by-poll elections? Once again, got no remarks on those.

 

How about I how I am still clueless about life? Well, I presume I always will remain clueless, even when I have a high-flying, high-paying job, and I rather like it this way.

 

How about how my day was? Well, what was it like anyhow? Woke up at 8, had a breakfast of milk and a PBJ sandwich, studied a bit of organic chemistry and physics, tinkered around with the new HandyCam, forced myself to finally go the salon and get my arms and legs waxed (ugh, annoying! though strangely enough, it doesn't hurt me. Oh, but getting the upperlip threaded does! Hurt that is), came back, tinkered some more with the camera, read a bit of Crime and Punishment (it's been weeks and I've still not finished it! *sigh*), studied a bit more, and so far, that is it. By the way, since I mentioned breakfast, why neglect lunch, which was rajma-chawal with dahi, and why neglect my evening snack, which was again a glass of milk and a PBJ sandwich. Oh, the sheer lack of variety!

So, see, you really didn't want to know what I did, did you?

 

Oddly enough, I have been in a strangely, absurdly good mood of late. It's been this way for several days now, and there isn't any reason (ah, but I do get agitated when my brother is around- he gets on my nerves!) 

 

By the way, relationships suck. At least, at this age they seem to. I don't just mean lover-lover relationships, but all relationships. Parent-child, sibling-sibling (don't even mention it- I think either I'll be the cause of my brother's death, or he of mine. He gets on my NERVES!), friends, all these relationships are so difficult to maintain, because you actualy have to work at keeping them alive. And, by the way, why should we even be expected to keep up cordial relations with distant relatives? I don't want to, what with all the fake smiles (that must not look fake) and having to remember endless names and faces, that all look alike to me anyway.

Schizoid misanthrope? Yes, I am.

Oh well, that is just me.

Also, I'm a bitch. 

 

Siddhu-ism- the biggest room is 'room for improvement'!

Sheesh! is that guy for real?

 

Shrew Tea-ism- And after all, you're my van der Waal! (I refuse to claim responsibility for this lame joke, therefore I blame it on my 'alter-ego'!)

Alright, so this whole matter about reservations being increased to 49.5% in central-government-funded educational institutions has been getting a lot of publicity, being on the front page of whichever newspapers I come across, and the point of discussion on the Indian news channels.

 

Even in school, and at Narayana, the reservations matter seems to be one of the prime topics for discussion. It is natural though, that this would be so. After all, it is us, the batch of 2007, who will be starting college the very session these reservations are effected. Besides, most of us, almost all the people I know, do not fit into any of the quota categories. So, being part of the general category students, we are ones who stand to lose.

 

Now, Anubhuti, before you start off about me contradicting what I had said only about two weeks back, read on.

Yeah, about that discussion, by the way, well, I'd been telling Anubhuti not so very long ago how reservations were actually required. So, yesterday (yesterday was Friday, was it not?) she came to me in class telling me how some of the kids in her class were vehemently against the reservation policy, and if I could talk to them about it.

 

So, well, yes, coming back to the point.

The entire trouble with the reservations in educational institutions is not the fact that they are there, but the way that they are effected. Also, the basis for these reservations is quite debatable.

Now, if they were solely on the basis of financial need, if the reservations were exclusively for those who are economically backward, regardless of their caste, or minority status, I don't think anyone (unless they were VERY selfish) could possibly bear any objection.

However, as things stand right now, it is usually the people who are already powerful (read economic or political clout) amongst the categories for which these quotas exist are the ones who take advantage of the reservations. The poor get no benefit at all. This is just unfair. So,in a way, the reservations are being exploited.

Also, several of friends have jokingly said that they would get an SC certificate made. I think, same time next year when we actually apply to colleges, several of them might actually resort to this measure (and isn't it so easy to get fake certificates proclaiming anything and everything, if you are just willing to shell out some money?)

I don't see why the authorities can't attempt to simply make better use of the reservations already in place? Or wait, is it too much trouble to actually have to DO aything, when you can just as well pass a new legislation to appease the voting masses?

Ah well,  it remains to be seen what will actually happen.

 

There are probably several people who don't think reservations, in any form, are either justified or required.

To that, I'd just say that the reason why I think reservations are required, and are also to a large extent justified, is that, people from economically weaker backgrounds do not have the access to the same sort of resources we, the considerably better off middle-class, do- for education, information etc. However, when it comes to entrance examinations, or applications for colleges, the criteria for evaluation are the same. Therefore, people who did not have access to expensive coaching classes, or to media from around the world, or even the leisure to study without disturbance, are definitely at a disadvantage.  

If our country could offer equal educational oppurtunities to all, and if there was greater socioeconomic equality, I don't think I would have supported reservations. However, that is not the case. The level of education at school level is undeniably better in the private schools, than it is in the government-run public schools. A lot of the entrance examinations are likely to be cleared only by people who had access to expensive coaching, because that appears to be how the tests are designed.

Since it is too much to expect this scenario to change anytime soon, till then reservations are fair. If only they would be implemented properly though!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thought I was past the stage when I'd blog for the simple purpose of staving off boredom.

However, here I am again, writing for no reason, with no rhyme. Old habits just die hard, and I am back to my old ways (though not permanently, I should hope).

 

Mother's going out of town (though only for a day), which should give me an entire day by myself, with nothing much to do (alright, I do have things to do- studying for my Narayana reshuffling test, for instance). However, as I said, I don't have anything much to do (at least nothing that I would like to do!)

 

I could just spend the day on the computer, but that would be a waste of twenty four perfectly useable hours.

I could read, which is a good way of spending the day (besides, there are ever so many books that I still have to read).

 

Besides, there is an extra class at Narayana tomorrow evening, from 3:30 to 5:30, the announcement of which today shattered the nascent plans I had in my mind of attempting to watch a movie or two. This is will sound strange to most people, but somehow, for me watching a movie is an even more tedious task than studying. I mean, while watching amovie, you can't even take a break, or skip to some other chapter or section if you've lost interest in what you are currently doing.

Owing to this somewhat 'unique' characteristic of mine, I managed to see a total of six movies in the year 2005 (which, by the way, is a personal record- and al of them were more or less forced upon me), and so far this year I have seen one movie- Iqbal (saw the second half first, at home, and the first half later, in school).

 

It isn't as if I don't enjoy movies, because usually I can tolerate them if I am watching in a cinema-hall, and I generally find most movies I watch fairly entertaining. Somehow, the simple idea of watching movies though, repulses me in some strange way.

 

Rather odd.

But then, that is just me.

If I were like everyone else, I wouldn't be me, would I?

 

And oh....I really don't like feeling like an immeasureably STUPID person (see blog URL!). However, I always, and seriously, always, end up feeling soooo stoooooooooopid!

If I am with my 'padhaku' friends, the sort who study 12 hours a day even when exams are nowhere in sight, I feel absolutely stupid, because, of course, I don't know even half the things they seem to know about every chapter in syllabus! It scares me how they manage to memorize every diagram, defintion, equation, reaction, whatever there is to memorize!

 

Then there are the intellectual (or no, actually just the plain intelligent people) who don't actually try to sound smart, but for them sounding smart comes as some sort of natural instinct.

It is around people like these that I feel the stupidest. Thankfully, there aren't too many of them around, or I would've gone and hidden myself in the nearest dumpster, headed for a NASA site, to be hurled into outer space (huh? Why am I not making sense?)

 

Oh, and then, even around the people that I wouldn't expect to feel stupid around, I end up feeling stupid. Because see, I really have no clue who does what in what movie or what advertisement. And, no, I don't know who's going out with whom, and who's no longer going out with whom, not unless you forcefeed the information down my throat. It's just that I'm not interested, but I do feel stupid when I hear them say things like- 'OH! You don't know???!!!!???? What world do you live in, Shruti"

 

Well, my answer to that, would probably be, I live in my own world, thank you very much for asking.

Yes, I am probably getting a little schizoid, but how does it matter, huh?

 

Sheesh...!

Believe me, I think I've just lost my head!

Go on, read this and snigger all you want at me, while I go look for my vanished cranium box, with the brain still in it!

 

Hmm...I return now, but still minus head, so I guess I'll still not be talking sense. (Find me my head please! I know I don't use it often, so the thief must've thought I wouldn't miss it very much, but oh, I miss you head!)

 

Anyway, eleventh standard is now officially over. We've got our report-cards now, telling us that we've been 'Promoted to 12th' and this has been duly signed by the principal.

Even though this was acadameically the worst year for me (lowest every percentage in a term, lowest ever final aggregate- crossed 75% by a whisker!), I've learnt quite bit this year. Mostly about how stupid I am, but also how I am stupidER tha I thought, and how I am stupid in ways I had never thought of earlier!

Yeah! Such a productive year it has been, discovering new facts about myself (well, just that I am STUPID, actually!)

Dammit...do I have to face 12th standard? Do I have to face responsibilities? Do I have to face all those exams?

Do I have to leave my fate in the hands of a couple of hundred repetitions of A B C D s? (no, not the alphabet, but MCQ optons)

I know, I know...I have to. I don't have much of a choice. I want a B.Tech. degree in biotechnology/biochemical engineering from IIT, don't I ? Or, perhaps, if I were to take extraordinary liberties with my imagination, then perhaps, study at MIT or CalTech? Then I will have to study hard, won't I? It isn't as if I have much of a choice.

 

I need a career counsellor. I still do, even though I think I've sorted things out a little more than how they were earlier, but I still desperately need some counselling, or atleast, some direction.

 

Suggestions welcome.

 

Also welcome is anyone with any information about my lost head. Informers will be rewarded with a kiss or a hug or a slap, as I deem appropriate. Description follows:

 

Roughly 15 cm radius, oblong, consists of some fuzzy grey/pink/white material, which though labelled brain is nothing but coloured cotton-wool (I would know, I put it there myself to make the head sound less hollow). It is encased in a somewhat hard box which is labelled cranium with a bright pink permanent marker, and this box is covered with fine, thin dark-brown hair, roughly one foot in length.

This description should be fairly adequate for identification of said object.

Anyone who finds it, or has any information regarding it, may please contact me here. (See above for promised rewards!)

I am one of those people, who has never quite understood why people are so zealous about religion and religious activities.

I am amongst those who do not believe in any of the organized religions, as such. I never put much stock by prayer and worship, because to me, the idea of entreating to an intangible entity termed 'God' has never been quite acceptable.

Therefore, it was quite natural that I didn't understand why religion mattered so much to other people.

I couldn't see why people would be actually willing to kill  in the name of religion.I couldn't see how it mattered if two people of different religions happened to love each other. I couldn't se how religion could become the single most defining point of their lives and how they were led for ever so many people.

In fact, I can still not understand most of this.

 

I accept that it is probably pleasant to believe in an entity termed 'god' in general, and further addressed by different names depending on which religion and which of its various sects you followed. 

I also accept that the idea of heaven, 'jannat', 'swarg' is probably very pleasant for those who see nothing but misery in their lives.

Also, religion gives those people who have nothing, something greater than their own selves to believe in.

Religion is probably also a way of somewhat reducing the evil in a society and bringing about some sort of order, with idea of 'Judgement Day' or with the idea of 'karma'.

Besides, men, in general, do not much appreciate the idea of being mere mortals who will die soon enough, and be forgotten. Hence, the idea of the immortal soul, and of 'Nirvana', and the cycle of rebirth.

 

I don't believe any such things. I couldn't care less if I am mortal. Why would I wish to linger on as something intangible, anyhow?  

Also, though the concept of eternal damnation is supposed to hinder evil, there are ever so many religious zealots who will kill in the name of religion, and not think they are sinners in the 'eyes of their god', since they were 'defending their religion'. I am quite sure, however, that the act of killing a fellow human is not deemed acceptable by any of their religious tenets. So, doesn't the idea of lingering in hell scare them enough?

Also, there are ever so many people who are so pious and sanctimonious. These people, I think, are actually the greatest hypocrites.

They wouldn't give a damn to another person if they were suffering, and yet they'd pray for everyone to be happy.

They would talk of the equality of all men, but never actually believe it.

And no, most of these people would not practice all those virtuous things that they preach.

 

A person's religion is quite often determined simply by the random chance event of which family/community he/she happens to be born into. Therefore, why should something that you don't have much of a choice in determining become such an integral part of your identity? Also, why should religion so often determine what course a person takes in life? these are just some things that are quite beyond my very limited understanding of man, religion, and spirituality.

 

My parents, though not overly-religious people as such (they don't bother about keeping fasts or visiting temples regularly), do believe in 'God' as well as in religion.

When I asked them why they believed in it, and why a society needed 'religion', their reply was that religion binds the society together.

Oh, does it indeed? I think not.

I think it divides the society into factions, and raises intolerance and it creates artificial differences where none exist.

 

I suppose atheism, agnosticism, and even being irreligious are religions in their own way, in the sense that they are also beliefs that are held, though they are not quite in line with the beliefs of a vast majority of the people.

                                        

 

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are my own, and are not intended to offend anyone.

If anyone does take offence to what I've written, I should like to know of it, and would be glad to hear you out.

 

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Therefore, I'd be very pleased if some of you (any of you!) make some plans!!!

 

Added at 8:40 p.m.- As I said, I felt like painting. So this is what I made.

I know, I know, it's awful. And my stupid scanner makes it look worse!