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the innocent ramblings of a soporose lychnobite
Calvin & Hobbes
And So We Meet Again
Friday, 5 August 2011
‘S’ was right. Nothing really happens when you plan for it.
I remember waking up one morning and rushing upstairs into an empty room to write in my personal diary, about the dream that I had, lest I should forget the details. I had dreamt that I had met S. It probably wasn’t a date but something was weirdly wonderful about that dream. You all must have had those dreams in which you wake up in the morning and you feel super good, and your heart keeps on racing till you share the details of that dream with someone, or at least write it down somewhere. This was one of them.
Note: I’ve seen a number of dreams about S but most of them are so unreasonably-imaginative-with-fairy-tale-cum-filmy-content that I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself by sharing them here.
I’ve seen S very few times in the real world. I’ve only chatted a LOT and talked a FEW times over the phone. Opportunities to meet her and talk face-to-face in a proper manner were virtually extinct. So somewhere within my subconscious self, I’ve had a burning desire to meet her in a ‘proper’ manner aaaaaaand just spend some time with her. Okay, Okay, spend ‘quite’ some time or rather, a LOT of time with her. That would explain those dreams.
Personally, I’m quite choosy about everything. That includes non-boys. I’ve had ‘crushes’ only on blue moon days… yes days – which happened once in my lifetime – oh! Come on! You know! You read my previous post didn’t you. So, S has been the only member in my crush list, and she has been active since the first day I met her. The more I get to know her, the more nicer I find her to be.
So I met her yesterday. And my dream came true. There have been a lot, trust me, a LOT of people who have said horrible things about her to me. I guess they were jealous, envious, or just crazy. I used to wonder, “Why isn’t there anything that I dislike about her? Maybe I’ll find out the day I meet her”. And surprisingly enough, even after meeting her, I never found anything that I could dislike.
I met her for 2 hours and 10 minutes approximately. Regrettably, I wasted the first 1 and half hour behaving like a complete jerk – just staring and smiling at her and stammering utter rubbish. But then I went to the KFC counter for two drinks and shook my head wildly cursing myself. And when I returned to her, I was a bit more normal than before, but not entirely myself yet. I really haven’t yet found out the reason why that happens to me. Every single time she is near me, my brain stops functioning. Initially, it was the same for every random girl. But then I overcame that shyness. But then, it happened again in front of S. In fact, I’ve given it a name too – The ‘S’ Effect – what a dangerous disease! Pray for me!
S was awesome! She looked really pretty in her white dress. I loved her voice, which was better than the voice over the phone. At a point of time, I couldn’t help keep smiling at her without any apparent reason, as she went about expressing herself in her own way – her face reflecting the multitude of emotions while she shook her head and adjusted her hair all the while.
Time passes – woosh! My father, who was waiting to pick me up outside the mall, thinking that I’m busy reading a book in the Starmark bookstore, was giving me incessant missed calls (actually I wasn’t accepting the calls and had kept the phone on silent mode). The most disturbing thing when you’re meeting a special friend is your father calling you up and saying, “Where are you? I’m waiting.”
Dear Father, I’m having the time of my life here. Why don’t you just go away and come back after many hours?
I wished that I could stay there forever – staring at her as long as I could while listening to all that she had to say.
While we were leaving – I didn’t know what to say – maybe because I was feeling really bad that we had to part. I wished that we could have stayed longer. It was really hard. But I managed to say good-bye and walk away, assuring myself that we’ll meet again.
I’m thankful to the person who has written the story of my life. He is truly the best story-teller. And I can’t wait to find out what surprises he has in store for my in my future.
Till then, I’ll just hope and pray that …
Oops! You don’t share your prayers with others! Childhood superstitions! Sorry!
Introducing 'S'
This article was originally written on 18th December, 2010 and published on one of my previous blogs which is going to be deleted. Through this article, I want to introduce to everyone, a close friend of mine. You can call her ‘S’.
The article below was previously read only by ‘S’ because it was published as a password protected post. I am publishing this here so that you too can get to know her and when you read my next blogpost, hopefully you won’t say “What the hell is he talking about? Rubbish!”
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Life Just In Between School And College
Monday, 25 July 2011
My school life has come to an end. And it was truly the most tragic and cruel end that can happen to anyone’s school life. No! Wait. It can happen only to me. The chronicles of my school leaving year as well as the last 12 years of my life, shall be stored safely in the strongest vault of my memory, which will be opened, only if humankind comes to the brink of extinction, or if I have my own grandchildren.
Before beginning, let me make my intentions clear. Through this blogpost, I wish to find some sort of a pattern in which the people around me have been behaving in recent times. I wish to gather the clues in front of me, and come to a reasonable solution, to all the things that still trouble me inside.
Life In Technicolor
Monday, 20 June 2011
12 thousand years back, a caveman used a weird colored rock to scrape figurines of mammoths and brave hunters on the walls of his cavern. He was so amazed by the dark red color that the rock produced, that he let his emotions flow through his hands and on to the walls.
Today, tourists from all over the world visit his cave to experience one of the earliest forms of artwork created – with color.
A thousand years back, a humble artisan inside a dimly lit workshop in Greece, finished painting a vase with black on red clay.
Today, the vase stands proudly inside a display case of a museum, still retaining its former glory – and color.
Five hundred years back, a renowned artist spent 4 years painting the ceiling of a chapel.
Today, visitors just can’t help but stare in amazement at Michelangelo’s masterpiece on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel – the vivid imagery with meticulous detail – and magnificent color.
Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. - Pablo Picasso
Kya Generation Aya Hain
I can bet that the last time that you've heard that line 'kya generation aya hain' is from a person who is not younger than double your age.
And today, you're going to hear it from me - just 19.
"Kya Generation Aya Hain"
Just a few days back, when spirits were high, and friends were at our side, we used to happily sing in chorus -
"Papa Kehte Hain Bada Naam Karega
Beta Hamara Aisa Kaam Karega!"
And look at what everyone is singing now -
"Daddy mujhse bola
Tu galti hain meri"
I say, what is going on? Why are you guys giving the I&B ministry such a hard time editing your movies again and again? Where has all the unconditional "Love you mom Love you dad" attitude gone?
Bollywood movies are pioneers in the task of making the Parents act as villains throughout most of the movie.
Here is a stereotypical example.
Useless Boy loves Rich Girl.
*Cool Song*
Rich Girl loves Useless Boy
*Item Number*
Rich Daddy (who is practical enough and mentally sane unlike his daughter) Intervenes
*Intermission*
Useless Boy and Rich Girl persist
*Romantic Song*
Rich Daddy's becomes villain and tries to take his daughter away.
*Emotional Song*
Useless Boy and Rich Girl re-unite in a twist of tale.
*Dance Song*
In an epic climax, the Rich Daddy's heart melts like ice-cream under the summer sun.
*Victory Dance Song*
Duh!?! Think of something new! If you cut and edit all the improvisations, the above raw format is what is left of any bollywood movie.#
And what is more funny is that even Rajnikanth can't do anything about it.
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