Whatever

Whatever is my favourite word.

Because it seems to sum up everything that I'm unable to articulate appropriately. Does that even make sense?

I am feeling quite disappointed today. As a matter of fact, currently I'm more than disappointed. I'm angry. I'm upset. I'm sad. And I'm Whatever.

Let me keep it simple and say that all the wonderful plans I had for December (with folks, of course) have gone kaput. Moreover, I can't seem to conveniently hold anyone responsible for my disappointment, and that's the icing on the cake (which has been burnt black in the oven). I could blame it on the situation, but, situations are unfeeling, heartless entities that decide to change their minds on a whim.

Life seemed to have been stationary, and pretty much humdrum a while ago (I just read my previous post). I'm glad that I enjoyed that phase while it lasted.

I have a major entrance exam coming up, and I'm nowhere close to finishing a syllabus that is easy yet endless enough to keep me flabbergasted all the time.

I shouldn't keep time for whatever. Whatever, is out of question. Whatever needs to be replaced by focus, books, and more focus.

Maybe a little party and good wine could be thrown in. After all, 2014 is round the corner. Though, I'm unhappy that 2013 is already on her way out.

I'll be off to Munaar for a week's getaway. See you soon. And a Happy New Year.

Or whatever.

Untitled.

Hi.

I could copy paste the first paragraph of my previous post, but in simpler and more blatant words, writing has taken a backseat. Probably the backseat of a bus headed to Timbaktu.

I should be studying for an examination that is due on Saturday. But, I'm spending time with a friend called Procrastination as of now. Friend is partially to blame for my sluggishness and couch potato-ness. Should I apologise?

I'm not dissatisfied or unhappy or frustrated, or anything of that sort. Strangely enough, everything seems to be stationary. Sometimes, I tend to forget which day it is and important dates such as birthdays. Sometimes, when I look out of the window and observe the sky, I feel as though the clouds haven't really moved. They're all still. Two pigeons visit my balcony every morning, and Mum has conjured a harebrained story about them being reincarnations of my late grandparents. My day is incomplete without filter coffee, "Romedy Now", "Lost", books, and my very faithful cellphone, not to mention social media.

The only things that are liable to change are my shower timings and sleep pattern. I have also been munching on 'Little Heart' biscuits. I haven't had time to explore new places for photography. I think I'm going to the railway station on my own during the winter break and capture various scenes out there on my camera.

Music hasn't been exactly forgotten. I anticipate some worthwhile jamming sessions with a friend. So that's good.

As much as I would love for some spice or masala in my seemingly mundane routine, I think I'd like to secretly savour the monotony because I know deep down that routines are liable to change, and that I might not be able to get this time back. I feel like some major change is imminent. It's like the lull before a storm, but,\ this time the storm may not be a storm. It could be something pleasant.

I think I'd like constancy for a change. I hate pigeons, but if they are supposedly my thatha and patti, I don't mind indulging in their company.

Cheers.

Mistakes

Hello.

How long has it been? A month? Or more maybe? I have been blatantly ignoring my blog, and writing to be precise. I have reasons to validate that but let's not get into that. "I have been busy," could suffice for now.

(Or maybe the lack of solid inspiration, who knows.)

I woke up half an hour ago, with the sole intention of writing something in my favourite blank box again. I have forgotten how much it has helped me get through stuff, happy and sad.

Have you ever felt like a mistake? I am not talking about having committed one. I'm talking about having felt like one. Your career, your college, your hobby, a decision - these tend to qualify as mistakes at times. But, the fact that you as an individual could be a mistake in someone's life, is something that doesn't pop in your mind very often. And when it does, it makes you contemplate, and just worry.

"I should not have been her friend," or "He shouldn't have gotten close to me," - as though you are the root cause of every problem, as though you are the one causing all the inconvenience.

The tiny voice in your head shouts "Be rational!" but all the rationality it tries to enforce upon you can be pretty useless, once your emotional side has taken control. You try to seek comfort in some sort of an assurance in your friend and that tiny voice as well , but it seems shallow as a puddle. And yet there are times when there is no one to guarantee you anything.

And when it comes to someone like me, who is as sensitive as a thermometer, this thought is food for further absurd analysis.

Something like -

If that person had his/her life's data stored in a computer, that needed periodic cleaning up, I would probably end up in the recycle bin, sooner or later.

Or maybe I was destined to be an Error 404, after all.

"Anyone who has never made a mistake, has never tried anything new," said one great guy.

I'm starting to wonder that I was some good after all.

The Old Man Down The Road

He was an old man
He must have been young
Just like yesterday
When I wrote a song
But I'd like to think of him
As the old man down the road
But not too old

He used to think
A lot
And pen down
His thoughts
On paper of course
He called them Physics
No wonder, I find them
So cryptic

He wrote, he read,
He thought some more
Unlikely for a student
Deemed so mediocre

Soon the word spread
That he was nothing less
Than an extraordinaire
With a love for numbers
Quite obviously a flair
I wish I had

But, not really

"You're the best!"
"The ultimate!", they cheered on
The old man with a brain
Everyone craved to have  

A downpour it was
Of awards and prizes so fine
Enough to put him on cloud nine

But, not really

The lonely old man
From day one
Said,"Bye friends, wives and sons!"
They left, all forlorn

And he lived and died on his own

I remember him wondering (aloud),
"How would it be,
To be that plain old man
Who lives down the road?"

My take on the therapist's point of view during one of his sessions
with Einstein

For One More Day

^ I read this book. I'm not planning on writing a book review. Somehow, the words 'touching' and 'beautiful' or even 'heart-warming' aren't enough to describe it.

Wistful, probably. At any rate, I found myself answering the question Mr. Albom asks, "What would I do if I had one more day with someone I’ve lost?”

I would have said my grandfather, without a blink of my eye, because my grandfather was the most  important man for me. But, I pondered for a while. My answer would be my grandmother. I would like to spend one more day with her, if I ever get to.

'My father once told me, "You can be a mama's boy or a daddy's boy. But you can't be both."

I would like to modify this a bit. I have always liked to be identified as my grandfather's girl. I have his temper and his ego to some extent. I can be scornful like he was. I have his practical bent of mind. I'm good at Maths.

To Patti (grandmom), I was always her girl from day one. But, to me, I became her girl only after my grandfather died. She had always been a significant part of my life, undoubtedly, but it took me a while to realize that. By then it was too late.

I could get away with yelling when she would bombard me with her childlike questions, which seemed so irrational and pointless to a teenager returning home after a long, yet useless day in college. Or when she wouldn't let me watch my favourite episode of "How I Met Your Mother" without having described her day.

I would promise to play carom with her each time she visited us. I guess I broke them all the time and she being the soft soul that she was, never minded my forgetfulness. Mere words were enough for her. During her last days, I told her I'd play Rummy with her. I never did.

She loved Bollywood movies and slapstick comedies. I can count the number of times we watched movies together. I was lazy enough to not walk to the nearest DVD library and rent a DVD for the weekend.

Almost 7 out of 10 times, I preferred spending time with my grandfather over her. Was that wrong? I don't know. I probably ran out of patience explaining stuff to her.

And yet she didn't mind. She swallowed my rudeness, my irritation and annoyance at her ignorance  about the so-called worldly things.

Because I was her girl.

For all those times I did not stand up for her, she stood up for me.

I probably didn't realize or I shrugged her away, hence that, was the one time I majorly let her down I suppose.

So if I do get one more day with Patti, I would spend it by playing carom, watching stupid movies, eating ice-creams, gossiping about our old neighbours, and answering her every question in detail. I would like to have that one meaningful conversation with her, that we should have had ages ago, but never did.

For one more day. That's all.

Upside down frowns

I am happy.

Happier than I have been in a very long time. This summer has probably been one of my best so far, and not in terms of where we, as a family, went holidaying, but in terms of how things have shaped up for me so far.

I must admit, the whole guitar and music scene has suffered a bit for me, considering I decided to pursue my recent-found love for photography. Yes, a Digital Single-Lens Reflex Camera. I joined the DSLR cult.

I need to figure out a way to balance both. And, a way to control my ADD tendency towards my hobbies. I have begun to multitask way too much. I know multitasking is good, yet, not really at times.

Hobbies can't make one happy, alone. Or maybe they can. I don't know. I haven't really made new friends as such. Just maintained the old ones, and probably realized their worth. However, I may have become familiar with people who were strangers a few months ago, to an extent where their presence has become a refreshing part of my mundane routine.

I sometimes wonder what happiness really means. When you're plunged in the depth of your worst nightmares  and when the world is an epitome of melancholy, happiness becomes an eclipsed entity, an idea that becomes so obscure that its existence is almost as good as gone. That's when one scrounges for it in every nook and corner, and probably assumes it lies concealed in rings of cigarette smoke or submerged in a bottle of liquor. Or maybe it could be stolen from someone and be unleashed through pure sadism and malice.

But at least you feel happy at the end of your pursuit.

 What about the time when you step out of a never ending dark tunnel and step into sunlight? The rays could be from a warm summer's sun or probably from that of a cold winter, but, it's sunlight all the same. It makes your path visible. It's a far cry from despair, and its bound to fill your heart with zeal. That's the sort of happiness which is well deserved. The kind of happiness that makes you want to gulp it, breathe it, and fill your lungs with.

Then again, happiness could mean reading Murakami's book one morning with a cuppa filter coffee and a plate of cheese sandwich. Or it could mean climbing a not so high hill, one rainy afternoon, with a dear one you meet after what seemed forever. Or it could mean just going to bed feeling content.

Who knows?

I'm scratching my head right now. It doesn't have a definition. Or maybe it has a multitude of them.

 I am happy :)

Another Blog Award!

Firstly, I apologize for having replied so late!

And of course, THANK YOU LISA! :-)

These awards sure do make me happy. And inspire me as well. Yay!

The Leibster Award is for those blogs with less than 200 followers. I'm sure my blog (which has made it to a meagre count) has managed to please my fellow bloggers and friends, and heck yeah, I'm grateful! :)

The rules of the Liebster is to answer questions from the award giver and then pass it along to other deserving bloggers.

I'm ready to answer Lisa's questions!

Why do you blog?
Ah, well. I began blogging on a random impulse to cope with this rough patch I faced, two years ago. So it would be appropriate to say I used my blog as an outlet to release my pent up emotions. But, things are different now. It's not just about rambling pointlessly. My blog makes me happy. My blog makes me realise I can write and that I'm good at it. So yeah, I blog to feel happy.  :)

What is your advice to someone overcoming adversity?
Think of feeling relieved at the end. I firmly believe every adverse circumstance is followed by relief. Cliched or not, optimism has always helped me.

If a movie was made of your life, who would play you?
My sister. 

If you could have high tea with anyone living or dead, what kind of tea would you drink? (Caught you off guard with that one, didn't I?? ;)
Jeez. You sure did. :P Ummm. Ginger tea. We call it adrak waali chai in Hindi.

In one word, describe your feelings at this instant.
Chirpy

If you and I found ourselves in jail, what would we be "in" for?
For stealing books, definitely.

What is your favorite kind of donut?
 Chocolate glaze!

Mine is an apple fritter. Will you bring me one?
I will, only if you share it with me :P

If you could be any kind of athletic ball, what kind would you be? Why?
I would be a ping pong ball. Because I like the name. And ping-pongs are robust. :P

What's your favorite form of exercise?
Early morning brisk walks with good, good music :)


I (apparently) want a parrot named Pooter as a pet, what kind of pet do you have/want?
A pup named Swami and a kitten named Charcoal

And now, I would pass on this award to some of my favourite bloggers who post great stuff.

Amruta at Iamamruta
Kanika at Sensitive Chaos
Sangita at Skaypisms
Saudamini at BeingSoda
Uttara at Billions of Blue Blistering Barnacles

And here are my questions !

1. Is your blog an integral part of your life? 
2. Do you regret having posted anything in your blog?
3. Do you get embarrassed reading your initial posts?
4. Crayons or paints? (because I felt like .. :P)
5. Which is your favourite book character?
6. If you were a musical instrument, which one would you be? And why?
7. Your favorite day-dream?
8. Which is that one song that has been stuck in your head of late?
9. A stupid movie you watched recently?
10. Which one of these inspire you to write - beaches or mountains? Why?
11. Name a song that would have suited the most poignant moment of your life so far.

Don't forget to follow the rules - Pass on this award to 5 of your favourite bloggers (with less than 200 followers) along with eleven questions!

Thanks Lisa, once again!

:)

Purpose, again

I have reinforced my faith in the fact that purpose kills plans.

And right now I'm enveloped by disappointment, irritation and menstrual stress.

I don't believe in coming up with pointless three-liner blog posts. But, right now, beliefs can take a backseat.

Purposeless posts do exist.

Purpose

Okay, I think I'm in a mood for one of my philosophical rants. It's been ages I know, for I have gone through my old posts. When was the last time I had actually sat down before this blank box with the purpose of unleashing a reflective verbal diarrhea?

For some reason I feel my attempt at that might fail today.

They say purpose is the key to achievement, to success and you know, all that. It is, but true that purpose does keep you unfazed through the nasty surprises hurled at you through the course of a  turbulent trip to *insert destination*. Nasty surprises have always followed a repetitive pattern of appearing during some of the fantastic phases of your life. Stephen King puts it quite aptly, SSDD - Same Shit, Different Day.

However, there are days when I dedicate an entire weekend to recording a new piece of music I have composed, but the whole attempt is a waste owing to an unfortunate process of recording, getting dissatisfied, deleting the track, re-recording, getting my hopes up high, discovering faults, getting frustrated, and so on. It's a futile consequence to a purposeful endeavour.

On the other hand, there are days when a sudden inspiration urges me to grab my microphone and guitar and I end up with a satisfactory rendition of my composition.

Purpose leads to expectations, and the latter are fickle minded when it comes to making one happy. What about a well-organized party turning out to be average with a low guest count? What about a trip planned way in advance with the ideal itinerary, that gets screwed up? You go well prepared for an examination and that turns out to be your worst one till date. You intend to deliver a well-rehearsed speech at a gathering, but one look at the audience is enough to drench you in cold sweat and incoherence. In fact, preparing posts prior to the A-Z blog challenge did no good either; I gave up, quarter way through.

Does this mean that being prepared, purposeful and expectant is wrong? Course not. It's just that one  diverts so much energy towards the positive outcomes of his intention, that the other alternative gets sidelined; the alternative of a failure. How can it go wrong when I'm ready and all prepped? No way, it's going to be kick-ass. And, that's where one falls short.

What about all those times when I picked up the first dress I saw on a mannequin, just an hour before a big party, that earned me several compliments? When my family planned a surprise trip to Thailand? When I delivered a heartfelt speech for my music teacher after a successful show? And when my friends and I threw an impulsive yet memorable party, a few hours after the very idea culminated in our minds?

None of us bothered about outcomes. Spontaneity aided us, and god alone knows what made our efforts tick. Technically speaking, we hadn't even given our efforts a thought. Come to face it, that party wasn't supposed to set tongues wagging for days to come or encourage Facebook statuses. But, it did.

Sometimes, it just depends on your luck, on the time, the situation, and the people around you; the appropriateness of everything at that moment which ultimately benefits you. Yet, sometimes it's just on how much we relax our ideals. The I'm-gonna-plan-my-summer-so-damn-well dogma could zap your energy, and before you even realise it, you are left with a forgettable vacation, not to mention scorching.

Moral of the story - I have come up with a abstruse post that may or may not be relished by you readers, but nevertheless leaves me feeling contented.

I am sorry

I'm sorry I had to end Heroes-R-Us so abruptly.

Firstly, I had a writer's block.

Okay, that's no excuse.

Secondly, I just felt my posts were forced and not even remotely humorous.

I never give up challenges. I hate leaving things undone, but this time I would have to swallow my words.

I am sorry. A big thanks to all my readers and fellow blog mates for having encouraged me so far.

And all those sporting superheroes who  helped me come up with something that would qualify as decent.

Meh.

Stay tuned for some interesting posts in May. :)

Happy Summer!

Harvey The Hyperventilator

26/3/2013

Featuring Harvey Hyperman aka Hyperventilator. From top to bottom - Harvey after watching 'The Scary Movie', Harvey after finding ten bucks on the road and Harvey after spilling a pint of beer.

Harvey remains unavailable for further comments. We wish him luck for his future endeavors.

Gertude The Gossiper

How does it feel to be a part of Heroes-R-Us, Gertude?
It's great. I was told I wasn't going to be a part of it though, is it true? I'm sure Deb spread that rumour. She hates my guts.

Uhh..Deb and you?
You will never believe it but Deb was actually my best friend. I would get my free supply of candies every month until I found they tasted different after a while. I complained about it to Deb of course, but maybe it didn't go down too well with her as the candies stopped coming in. And she began to ignore me at parties. I bet she didn't want me to share the limelight with her.

Your superpower is the mother of all controversies in the film fraternity. Is that true?
Gossip's in my blood. Actors wouldn't thrive without my support in their so-called fraternity. Controversies may seem to be the bane of their existence, but it keeps them buzzing. People remember them because of ME. Gossip comes before films, always. 

There has been a lot of talk about the Babble pills,lately. Enlighten us.
Babble pills have been funded by me. It suits introverts and people who are unable to make small talk. One pill can make you prattle  about almost anything for at least two hours. And trust me it won't be just gibberish. You end up engaging the listener as well.

Earl the Erratic has been AWOL for the past one month. You may have an idea considering you know him well, yeah?
There has been talk about Earl getting into drugs. He seems to have been hallucinating a lot of things including a mysterious White Woman and snow. Earl has been talking to himself rather than me. I'm pretty sure I saw him talking to the air, yesterday.

People say your words should be taken with a pinch of salt. How true is that?
True, you could also take it with some lemon and tequila.

Your weekly editorial, The Grapevine is a rage among young adults. How do you feel?
Why thank you it feels great. The Grapevine talks about topics that are close to the young heart including beauty and health tips, relationship advice, celebrity news etc. It also features a column where individuals can speak their minds. It promotes arguments and debates as well. The latter have increased its rating.

Thanks for being a part of Heroes-R-Us. A few words to conclude..?

I'd say the one with a sense of rumour is hard to find.


 




 

 

EF- fy the Effervescent

"I'm a part of Heroes-R-Us! It's truly an honour! How does my suit look? Dashing, eh? I have prepared myself for answering absolutely every question you put before me! How about..."

Today calls for a special post. I have decided to dedicate the letters E and F to Effy, considering Earl the Erratic never turned up, and actually considering Effy has been effervescently enthusiastic about his interview. I know this is called cheating, but Effy says, "You aren't cheating, and even if you are, well, it's for a good cause!"

And that did feel good

Bubbly, frolicky and high spirited Effy is known for his handy superpower that can influence one's mood lest he feel low. "I lost all hope after failing my medical exams for the second time and I was about to kick the bucket when I met Effy at the local pub," says his friend Rob. "He bought me a pint of frothy beer and asked me to gulp it down quickly and feel the rush of the drink down my throat. Things changed after the beer. I felt zealous and happier. I topped my exams the following year.Currently, I work in my own clinic."

"I'm an event manager! I love planning and organizing events. It gives me a heady feeling. I love jazzy parties with fizz, alcohol and happy folks!" True that. Effy has made a dull corporate gathering do the harlem shake, that has been captured on tape and uploaded on Youtube. "145522792 likes!" he says, triumphantly.

Unfortunately, there is a down side to his amazing superpower as well. Effy's boisterous nature has been termed as obnoxious, especially when he couldn't wipe the smile off his face during a funeral service. "The man had been as old as a banyan tree! I'm sure God had arranged a welcome party for him, up above. I just felt his farewell party could have been happier. I didn't try and change the atmosphere though!" he says cheerily.

Nothing can bog him down. A lover of bubble baths, foamy soaps and carbonated drinks,even a rainy day with mucky roads and insensitive cars that splatter mud all over, is incapable of dampening his ebullience.

"Muck and rain are best friends. Just as Coke and I."

Deb the Diabetic

"I apologise for the delay! I'm usually punctual but I had my doctor's appointment yesterday and hence couldn't make it on time. I'm extremely sorry! Oh and by the way, you look beautiful! I love your heels. Thanks a ton for inviting me! Here's some sugar candy for free!"

Why, thank you Deb. You needn't apologize. I'm sure coping with diabetes must be hard enough.

"Of course not, that's silly. Though I can't binge on sugar, I have set up my own candy shop in the neighborhood. Sweets and sugar can bring smiles and that's so very nice! My, my that makes me so gladsome."
 Brava! Talk about selflessness and pure generosity. Kindness and compassion. Intelligence and gumption. Care and hospitality. Forbearance and courtesy. And the superwoman who has molded these enriching qualities into one - Deb!

Rumour has it that Deb's mother whilst she was pregnant had unknowingly consumed pills for a month, that had been mysteriously substituted for her high blood pressure medication. The result was of course a stupendous increase in her blood sugar level, that mounted to diabetes. Naturally, the effect of the pill manifested in her child, who was also born an epitome of sugary benevolence.

Deb has won several awards and accolades for her sensationally sweet personality, the biggest one being The Goodness Gracious Award, for having donated half her savings to The Goodness Gracious Child Association. "Her lips lyk sugah, her lips lyk sugah!" sings her husband Inzaleen, who had been saved from the Talibans by a military relief group where Deb worked as a nurse."She fed me lemon honey tea and orange peppermints to distract me from the pain! I fell in love with her, head over heelsss!"

Deb works as a part time child counselor. The kids love her, though some parents complain that their children come home spoiled and insolent after a counseling session. "That lady is a saccharine fraud. She sweet talks them into believing that they must listen to their hearts and speak their minds!"

Deb has the power to please everyone. Her superpower enables to tell them only those things they would love to hear, and though this may sound inappropriate Deb justifies it by saying "Everybody ain't a diabetic. Eat more sugar while you can!"

 

Chad The CheeseMan

Chad : What do you call cheese that isn't yours?

Anju : Um. Really? I don't know.

Chad : Nacho Cheese!" *guffaws*

Anju : Ah! Of course.

Chad : There's another! What did the street cheese say after he got attacked by several blades?

Anju : *puzzled*

Chad :  I've felt grater.

Obviously known for his immense love for cheese and everything that drips with and reeks of cheese, Chad The Cheeseman is quite a personality to reckon with. It is but hard to ignore his brand of humour that is, infact his superpower.

"I love Gouda movies! But the ones that are extra cheesy are Feta!" says a very gleeful Chad. "My ex-girlfriend secretly loves me in spite of  her intense disdain for my cheesy pick-up lines. I miss her like a diabetic kid who misses his Halloween sweets. Actually more like Jerry the mouse who is deprived of his rightful cheese!"

Chad has no clue as to how he became superhero. However, it's only when he got admitted in the hospital for experiencing nasty cheese withdrawal symptoms, that he realised he was a superhero(one that could be hospitalized too, yes).

Blessed with the power to lighten up a gloomy atmosphere and aggravate a light atmosphere with his jokes, Chad admits that his strength lies in cheese that gives him the stamina to dish out relentless and persistent puns at any hour of the day, even whilst in deep slumber.

However great these facts may sound, Chad sadly claims that no one takes him seriously. "I'm the funny neighborhood Cheeseman who distributes delicious cheddar regularly. Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone, " he says heavily. "No one's to blame, no one."

How about some more cheese, Chad?

"Before I go, you must know that cheese might make me sane! But you, my girl drive me crackers!"

P.S : "In a good way!"

Boms The Bombastic

"Dad gifted me a Rolls-Royce convertible when I was ten. Just ten, can you IMAGINE?! Of course, I had Stevens driving me to school everyday until I was old enough to drive. I have always wanted to be independent and I have succeeded, undoubtedly. I own a magnificent mansion overlooking the beach, a lavish garden with a lot of Magnolias (those are my favourites!) and orchids of course, and a private swimming pool too, a big one that has a warm water facility for winter and also a beach bar and..."

Owner of Bombastically Yours Pvt.Ltd, a fashion enterprise that is known for its glamorous produce, Bomsanya Bombastica has indeed been blessed with an extravagant superpower. She was born with a silver spoon, to her superhero parents who unfortunately hadn't been able to make a lasting mark on their respective generation. The Bombasticas had suffered a rags-to-riches history and were determined to not let it affect their precious offspring's future. And indeed their attempts to raise Boms under an extravagant limelight haven't failed. Congratulations Boms, on your fantastic genes!

Boms The Bombastic as she's popularly known, has the innate ability to access the grandest of  materialistic pleasures, and likewise make the simplest of things look grand. Wealth has always stuck by her side and so has Success. Fashion isn't her only fort, she is also a part-time wedding planner (weddings being limited to the creme de la creme), a writer, a chef, and an accomplished belly dancer.  The paparazzi are her best friends.

However her bombastic overtures have never gone down too well with a lot of people."They call me a pompous braggart, which is like calling an ice-cream cold," she says scornfully. "This doesn't mean I'm vain. I just love extravagance, and I love to flaunt it," she adds quickly.

So why is being bombastic considered so negative?

"I'm not pretentious. This is how I am. My country wedding would be flashy. My bathtub's the size of a mini pool. I like to have champagne every Sunday, and I do eat caviar on a regular basis. I cannot be understated even if I want to, and hell no, I don't want to."

So much for all the envious souls. 

She would also like to build a massive orphanage equipped with state-of-the-art facilities including  designer clothing for the kids.

Boms adds her snazziest of lines before signing off

"Subtle does not feature in my vocabulary."

Amby The Ambivalent

"I'm not sure if I should be considered as a Superhero." says Amby. "Or maybe I could be, considering I have always managed to get a taste of everything possible without staunchly choosing any ONE particular thing. Am I indecisive? I'm not sure." *giggles nervously*

And the day has indeed arrived. Hello readers! Welcome to the official release of Heroes-R-US. Today's article being the first, will feature Amby the Ambivalent.

Has he been blessed or cursed with Ambivalence as his name suggests? Amby has been unable to come to a conclusion regarding his superpower, or as a matter of fact any situation that puts forth Options. Also he wonders whether it was a good idea to be a part of Heroes-R-Us.

Well, Amby I can assure you that we had no second opinions regarding your invitation.

Born to a half-brown family in San Jose, Amby had always been as normal as any boy born to a half brown family has been. His parents, Ravinder Singh and Anna Jones had always had the upper hand when it came to  deciding the course of their normal son's life, from the food he ate and clothes he wore to the T.V programs he could watch. Amby had never had a say in these matters, and had never expressed a desire to do so.

It was only after his parents' untimely death in a car crash before his graduation, that Amby realised he wasn't normal. His superpower came to light when the question about his career popped up. Amby loved the Arts as well as Science. Unfortunately, his parents hadn't chalked out a career plan for him which left him in a dilemma. Unable to decide, Amby started off with Science, switched to Arts, back to Science, and then to Arts again, without mastering none. That's when he knew he was Ambivalent.

Amby lives in his specially designed his half-apartment-cum-half-villa at the Crossroads. Luckily for Amby, he has found quite a few friends who are ambivalent to an extent, in spite of being non-superheroes. "They won't live at the Crossroads for long, though. They will settle elsewhere once they decide." says Amby sadly.

Amby has tried his hand at boxing, bungee-jumping, engineering, architecture, Warli painting, scuba-diving, singing, and has played a variety of instruments from the sitar to the xylophone. Ambi possesses the rare ability to feel happy and sad and brave and scared, simultaneously.

Is there anything you would like to add, Amby?

(Some hopes that he might say a lot more)

 Amby thinks hard and says, "Uh..well..I'm not sure.."

Heroes-R-Us

"Featuring the Superheroes of the 21st century"


Heroes-R-Us is a tribute to Andrew Kaufman, the pioneer Superhero seeker who has been responsible for bringing some of the world's unsung superheroes to prominence. You would have read  'All My Friends Are Superheroes.' Obviously. If you haven't then I suppose you have been sitting in a cocoon all this while, scrutinizing your abnormally normal life which is in dire need of Inspiration.

 Now, the most common assumption that the every normal ignoramus makes is that Superheroes have descended from another planet, probably another galaxy, and have skin tight costumes tailor-made by themselves. They are not expected to use their superpowers to suit themselves. Instead, they are supposed to work for this peculiar Greater Good. And of course, the attachment of the inane suffix '-Man' to every Superhero name is a ridiculous predilection among several others, that never fails to amaze me. Blame the conceptualized Superheroes such as Superman, Batman and Spiderman for this, who have always stuck to illustrative comics and nowadays multiplexes and televisions (where they have sadly been portrayed by imposters). They make the ordinary folks feel warm and fuzzy temporarily, but obviously aren't Real.

Hence, enter Heroes-R-Us to do away with these presumptions.

The featured superheroes undoubtedly have one or several, good or bad superpowers to their credit, but as mentioned earlier, they are free to use them for their own benefit, and are under no obligation whatsoever to help or usurp the masses. They walk, talk, eat, sleep and defecate normally, because they are Home Sapiens by constitution. They just have certain traits or characters that have been Super-amplified, due to some mutated Gene or just simply due to God's Grace. Moreover, they are real. You just have to open your eyes.

 Heroes-R-Us is a compilation of the century's important and unimportant Superheroes that aims to bring them closer to the average plebeians. The content will be released on a daily basis during the month of April, year - 2013, in an alphabetical order. Sundays are naturally off.

Those who are earliest to comment will be thanked personally by the Superhero featured on that particular day.

Tune in from 1st April onward to catch up on some interesting trivia about your favourite Superhero!

Cheers,
Author aka Anju

Clueless

Sometimes you feel you aren’t cut out for Something but for Something Else. Something Else is what you love dearly, without which you can’t imagine your life being the way it is. And hence you decide to screw Something, deviate from it’s path and move towards Something Else. But then, you realize Something Else comes with its share of responsibilities and baggage, most of which you were blissfully unaware of. And Something Else suddenly seems a bit too much to handle, though your love for it hasn’t diminished.

And now you feel pretty lost and clueless because you don’t know if you were cut out for Something Else in the first place. Weighing its pros against  cons isn’t a solution anymore.

Life comes to a standstill. Your brain seems to have flat-lined.

V Day Poem by Anju

"I'm not one for roses or chocolate hearts
Heart-shaped balloons, teddies
Or greeting cards
Nor endless words suited for the occasion
Or a fancy date at a fantastic location
All I need
Is one look of that stupid grin
Etched on your face,
Or hear the random stuff
You usually say,
And that my dear,
Will make my day!"

I wrote this randomly to this one friend, and I was amazed by my sudden burst of creativity!

Really.

I apologise for the miniscule illustration.

And urm..yeah, Happy Valentine's Day.

Breathe

I don't know why this month hasn't given me a sense of satisfaction. It began on a high note, you know. My first short story got published on Spark, I was rewarded with constructive criticism and appreciation likewise. I uploaded my compositions on my newly made Soundcloud account, and that seemed to be getting somewhere as well. But after that, life seems to have come to a stand still. And I seemed to be stuck in this rut.

I know it has been ages since I blogged. I can't pinpoint the exact reason for my abstinence from writing. Maybe it has been stress. The stress of harboring of new insecurities that have been lately popping into my mind. Or maybe, the stress of dealing with nasty surprises. Or maybe the very idea of dragging myself daily to a college that greets me with its revolting mediocrity. I don't know. But, I haven't been able to bring myself to write.

I'm staring at this blank box, waiting for my fingers to take charge of the keyboard, like they usually would. Instead, I get frustrated with myself for not being able to produce some sort of substantial content that could suffice as a blog post. Damn it.

An idle mind is a devil's workshop. Time being paralyzed, my mind has lately been occupied with thoughts of triviality. Even something as simple as reading a book seems to have become a bloody task. It's a phase of staring-at-words-till-they-lose-their-meaning, of worrying about others,  of analyzing the purpose of  studying Biotech, and of trying to convince myself that someday I'll be competent enough to look after myself (big, big thoughts of a lanky girl on the brink of bidding farewell to teenage).

Hence, I have been comforting myself with a camera,  a microphone, and this guitar. I have been advised to practice Yoga every morning, to calm my nerves that seem to saltate at the slightest stimulus these days (and the problem isn't PMS).

It's not like I haven't reached some kind of a solution. Breathing does soothe you. Shut your eyes, inhale slowly and deeply and vice verse. It's not that your brain is going to pause and linger in tranquility (if you read that somewhere, then that's bull).  But, the thoughts loosen up, and they float instead of ravaging in your head. You could let your worst fears play and replay as often as you wish and feel the fear element fading away gradually, until it dissipates into nothingness.


And you feel stronger. And calmer.

They tell you to listen to music, or paint. Or go stroll in a park. Or sleep it off. Or watch a stupid movie. Or read something inspirational. Or talk to someone. You could take your pick.

But, who thought that listening to oneself breathe is the best option of them all? I used to shrug it off. Never believed that paying attention to your lungs would be an excellent way to kick-start the whole relaxing process. One hears a lot of talk about surviving each day by learning from one's errors or by being thick skinned. Yet, in spite of keeping all that philosophical dissertation in mind one tends to overlook the fact that the very crux of survival lies in each breathe.

I suppose you get my point. I think I have had my quota of cliched mumbo jumbo. :-P

I need to take some time out to breathe. Breathing is easy peasy, simple pimple.

And.. I guess this is my post for the day.