The Gray Terror

Monet and a kiss...would that ever happen?

Some time ago, I discovered that I had a gray hair. In the panic that ensued this immediate discovery, my life flashed before my eyes. A successful book publishing career, a socially conscious wedding, a sex-ful marriage, a warm home (at last), kids running in the park, growing old with a faceless partner, and dying in peace under the night sky. Never being able to kiss Benedict Cumberbatch in front of a Monet. These are the things I would never get around to doing after an untimely death in my 20s. I looked at my scared self in the mirror and gulped hard. It took all my resolve to not break down and cry.

I plucked the gray hair and went to my phone. If I was to die prematurely, I had to leave a will and a love letter to my few friends. As a will, I had credit card debts that were thrice the amount of all the money I had in all my accounts combined. The debt, I figured, I would leave to my parents and brother. They had extracted quite a number of favours to take on my debt. At least that much they owed me. Here is how the letter went:

With a heavy heart I regret to inform you that you can use my "Died an eternal virgin" speech at my own funeral. My descent into old age has begun with the discovery of a gray hair and my father terming it as a deal-breaker to any marriage proposal that should, pray, come my way. [Insert dear friend's name here], you have been a good friend and will likely outlive me. If we do not get a chance to meet before I pass into the bright lights of the Kryptonian ship that will airlift me from this earthly above, know that I have loved you deeply and all my jokes were seriously jokes. My purpose was always to create a camaraderie and I meant you no harm. Sure, sometimes I would look at you with crazy eyes with the expression, "What the HELL?", but it was meant in a good way. I have always kept your best interests in my heart and will continue to do so as I roam in space.

Much love,

Anita
xoxo

P.S. That's the ONLY time I'm using "xoxo" to sign off on a letter.

Obviously, the friends whom I sent it to laughed their asses off. After guffawing a lot, they sympathised with me. They had started graying much earlier than me, they told me. Their parents had also reacted the same way, publicly declaring the hopelessness of ever finding a suitable partner who would accept them, gray hair and mental illnesses included. Did I feel better? Dear Jor-El, no!

The number of gray hair on my head has increased since. As a person who barely cares about her health, I descended further into depression. Would I turn into one of those Garnier women who dyed their hair, turned anorexic, and then found their confidence? Or would I instead take a stand like Nafisa Ali and age gracefully?

Who in sweet Krypton am I kidding? I am nothing like the Garnier models or Nafisa Ali. Some people carry gray hair with swagger. My mom applied kajal on her hairline to hide the grays. My dad ignored it all together. What would I choose to do?

Well, coming face-to-face with your mortality is a vexing situation. I have come close to having my head busted on gravel or being run down by speeding vehicles, but the terror of those situations passed away in a few minutes. This "gray terror" though, that is something I still have trouble coping with. For one, I am not a beef magnate whom guys flock to, so yes, my dating AND marriage prospects have slimmed down. What could I possibly say was the cause of the graying hair? Stress? Depression? Too much shampoo? Fatty food? All of those answers are deal-breakers.

Much like the journey of Middle Earth, there are all sorts of monsters I have to face before I settle down comfortably in the Shire. Oh no, wait. I am Gandalf the Grey, so I am not exactly sure what I will end up doing, or where I will end up. And Gandalf the White is a scary prospect. I don't think I can carry off white hair with Ian McKellen's panache. Sweet Krypton, why can't an anti-aging spider just bite me? That would work better than those fake Olay creams. Those creams are pure bull excrement. 

But where can I find a damn radioactive spider...?

When You Try Your Best But You Don't Succeed... Thanks, Coldplay!

How do you tell your friend that you do not like the person they love? How do you tell them that you do not trust their partner? How do you tell someone who finds love after searching for it a long time that settling is not the answer?

If there was any way I could say these things and not sound jealous, or envious, or like a child, I would do it. Thing is, half the stuff I say comes out in a sarcastic or taunting way. While my friends tolerate that in normal settings, would they believe me when I start saying the truth about them to them? I always fear that I will end up looking like the boy who cried wolf thrice. Having faced that once already, I do not want to experience it all over again.

The first time I said it, my friend agreed with what I was saying. She understood that I was coming from a good place when I said I didn't trust the other person. At least, the friend seemed to understand. The happiness in my heart lasted for a very short time. My friend and the person I did not trust were back together before I could blink. They are still going out and seem happy. Was I wrong?

Admittedly, I do not have a good matchmaking track record. Nor can I--or will I--predict which couple will last the longest. I am not good at that. The only thing I know for sure is people I can trust and those I cannot no matter how hard they try. I have a "people radar" and I am not wrong. Not till now. Sure, it may make me seem like a bitter, old hag, judging people and pronouncing whom I can trust and whom I cannot. But this radar has served me well. It has protected me from getting hurt. It has been my shield.

I wish communication was easier but it never will be. People will hear what they want to hear and again interpret it in the way they seem fit. Urgh! Why does this happen? Why can we not teach our friends, lovers, parents, and children to talk like androids and emote ONLY when needed. Being an android at times works for me. I know the person I am talking to will find it weird. And this is probably why I do not have "bestest of friends" or "BFFs!!" kind of people. I could not be my best friend no matter how hard I try.

Weird, or what??!!

How Women Started Prostitution and How Men Ruined It

Disclaimer: This is not a research thesis. I have done absolutely no research in this matter. All that is written here is a result of whatever I have seen and read for as long as I've been alive. Please take everything in good humour and drop a comment if you think you want to. Thank you.

Ancient European Frescoes

The oldest profession in the world may probably have started off as a chance to make some money. And I am pretty sure it was a woman's idea. When men had all that they wanted, why would they resort to sex as a favour or a profession? Women did not hunt, they rarely were part of societal discussions, and they never held any jobs. They must have been bored of sitting at home and gossiping. I think there is an extent to which you can gossip. Most women draw that line when the rumour mills are about them. So, in this scenario, two situations seem plausible:

1. A smart woman noted that sex is a primal, powerful tool which soothes men, wins wars, and gets them expensive jewellery. So, rather than be bogged down by the tragedy of marriage, why not sell sex and make some money, soothe men, get expensive jewellery, and still win wars.

2. Some poor hapless woman(/en) must have sold sex to a man(/en), got money in return, and then after a "Eureka" moment--or after being ostracised from society--decided to make sex her career.

In either case, it is about a woman taking charge. No matter how hard I think and look for proof, I do not see men starting prostitution. They may have joined it as homosexuals first and then diversified, but they cannot be the pioneers of prostitution. There is no way.

Is there anything bad about sex? No, I can't see how. Procreating is our primal nature. We evolved and survived because our ancestor, bacteria, reproduced and replicated like crazy. The only tool to ensure one's survival was through tremendous procreation. There was no other way. God, or aliens (Jor-El, mainly), put only a handful of the ancient beings on this earth, and their job was to procreate and make the environment habitable for the future generations. They did it successfully only through bacterial sex. Yeah, I can't picture that either.

As we evolved into mammals that walk on hind legs, created languages, and left the forests, we still had the need to "do it like rabbits". I mean, look at our grandparents. Didn't they pop a child out every year? My maternal grandmother had six children and I can't think about the pain she endured. But I've heard of 11 or 12 children being the norm in those days. How is that even possible? 11 children from one mother? Ouch!

The reason why our parents probably stopped at 1, 2, or even 3 was because they realised their parents didn't remember their names all the time. And our parents didn't want that awkward situation with us. Also, think of the pain, the drama of an infant, and the money involved in raising a child. Which is why I'm thankful for both female and male empowerment. Both sexes finally have gotten out of the rut that surrounds childbearing.

However, notions of sex still remain the same. Who can explain how sex suddenly was derided in society? Why and when was premarital sex considered taboo? And who gave us the authority to judge a person who liked to have sex?

Art at Khajuraho, India

Somewhere down the line, we changed our mindset and became guarded about sex. Sex became about ownership of the sexual organs and power was derived from it. Yet, we see art all over our cultures about kings, queens, and commoners enjoying sex and other pleasures of the flesh. If one ruler liked it, another hated it. Was it because religions and religious leaders kept changing their attitudes? Was it because women became too demanding after sex? Was it because men wanted to hurt women using sex as a tool?

These questions require a lot of studying of the past and reviewing each and every ruler and writer. Even then, the scope of knowing what the common man thought is beyond my reach. Any which ways, I only have a biased understanding of how sex worked over the years. That is simply not enough.

Today when I hear about prostitution, at least I know what I think. Legalising prostitution is not the answer. Our governments are so screwed up, that prostitutes will end up being more ridiculed, derided, and worse, taxed beyond the usual cut to the cop. What I do know is that just because they were forced into, or have chosen, prostitution doesn't mean that they waived off their rights to be human. Every Indian citizen has the right to life and a dignified one at that. Why can't we let prostitutes have a dignified life? Will they become dignified if they shift to desk jobs like us? How dignified are we? Aren't we being "ridden hard" at our work place? 

So, what I started with comes back here after a full explanation. Like everything men do, they took ownership of prostitution and then screwed it up so much that what we have today is a shame. I have to be sexist here because my point is just that. The thing about sex is that it will never be mutual. Every person in the world knows the benefits, the gains, and the losses from sex. So everyone is at it like a game. It is a power tool now and this will not change. Women use it for their advantage. Prostitutes have to protect their sex like a diamond. Men are sadly victims and perpetrators at the same time. They get a double whammy deal here. And that's raw. Pun intended.

Whichever way prostitution started, we still have to deal with it and do something about it. I would start by stop calling prostitutes and sex workers "whores" or "sluts". I would use that on myself and give them the respect they deserve. I could be a slut for books. Or a movie whore. Why not? Let words not judge ones penis/vagina, the level of one's virginity, or the standard of one's dignity. Judging someone is so bad that even when I do it as a joke, I feel bad. So feel bad for a sex worker you may know or don't know. Think about the condition they are in, and feel their pain and suffering. And that is when you will make a change.

New Love Stories Part V

Read Part I here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2011/04/new-love-stories.html
Read Part II here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2012/02/new-love-stories-part-ii.html
Read Part III here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/02/new-love-stories-part-iii.html
Read Part IV here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/03/new-love-stories-part-iv.html

PizzaLover123 looked to her left to reassure herself that she was in fact checking out of the library with the only male in the whole building. The fat girls and lesbians weren't happy. They glared at her for not only disturbing their peace with her giggles but also for "having a life" albeit an unsure one.

"I'm KeyboardPlaya87 by the way," he said as they walked out after reserving their books and magazines at the checkout counter. 

"PizzaLover123," she replied. 

"That's a cool name. Wish my parents had given me a cool name like that," he told her. "Sometimes people mispronounce or mistakenly call me 'Synthesiser'! Like that's a cool name!"

She smiled. "That's true. It can be confusing to some people."

He laughed and skip-hopped over the steps leading down from the library towards the cafeteria. She smiled and looked at him skip-hopping. In spite of his feminist jabs, he did seem like an OK guy, someone who could be conditioned into fighting for women's rights over time. And she would work on him till he turned into a feminist lover.

"Do you live in the hostel, PG, or are you from here itself?" he asked her as they continued to walk the distance to the cafe.

"I live in the city," she replied. "With my parents, unfortunately."

"Ha! That's never fun," he laughed.

"No, it isn't," she agreed. "They expect me to be home at a certain time and push me out early in the morning so that I utilise daylight as much as I can. I only have freedom as long as the sun shines during a day."

He laughed loudly. "So that means night-outs are a definite no-no."

"Absolutely," she replied. "But I don't know why you'd ask me that."

"Hey," he held up his hands defensively. "Don't shoot me for asking you questions."

"Do I look like I have a gun in my bag?" she asked in an irritated tone.

"No, but you could be smuggling in nunchuks."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. KeyboardPlaya87 had an innocent expression on his face trying hard to convince her that he was indeed afraid of her. That is, in case she had nunchuks in her bag.

"No!" she barked. "I don't carry weapons of any kind."

"Thank god!" he let out a sigh of relief and acted as if wiping his brow of sweat. She rolled her eyes again.

"Don't worry, I'm buying you tea to tolerate all this," he told her.

"At this rate the deal better be for a lifetime," she said. 

"Oh, haha!" he said mockingly.

They were now at the entrance of the cafe. It was early in the afternoon and the lunch crowd had dispersed. As the autumn sun was warm and there was a light breeze, everyone had shifted to the college lawns and bamboo grooves to relax in the sun. There were only a handful of people inside the cafe, including the staff. No one looked up as KeyboardPlaya87 and PizzaLover123 walked in and sat next to a window on a stone slab.

KeyboardPlaya87 removed his bag and kept it on the stone slab, next to where PizzaLover123 had settled. "Let me order the teas," he told her and went to the counter. PizzaLover123 nodded and smiled.

She looked at him as he went to the counter and ordered in the teas and waited for it. He had a nice enough behind, she noticed. Though he had a skinny body, his full face indicated good health, and this was misleading. As she had not noticed him in college before this day, she wasn't sure of his nature or behaviour. She had never seen him in the library either, even though he looked like a bibliophile with his big-framed geek glasses. She herself had glasses but she preferred the thin, metallic frames to the plastic ones. 

KeyboardPlaya87 had the plastic tea cups in his hands as he walked over quickly to their spot and placed it down on the cool, stone table in front of them.

"Hot?" she asked as he cooled his hands down by placing it palm down on the stone table.

"Of course," he replied. "You didn't want iced tea, did you?"

"I would have told you if I did," she answered.

He smiled. "Of course, you would."

PizzaLover123 took the tea cup in both hands and blew over her tea. There was a moment of silence as KeyboardPlaya87 also picked up his cup and took a sip.

"So," she said looking into her tea cup. "Tell me about yourself."

He looked at her and she gazed back. He smiled.

"Um...well, there's not much to say, really," he started. "You know my name and which course I am in. I will graduate next year and hope to do my MBA right after graduation." 

She nodded and he continued.

"OK, I don't know if you know this, but I am sort of a musician. I play the keyboards. I have this band with a couple of friends from school and we play in schools and college fests. We played last year at the college fest. Did you see us?"

She shook her head and frowned. "Unfortunately, I wasn't in the city when the fest was on. My grandmother died and I flew out with my mom for the funeral."

KeyboardPlaya87's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's OK. I wasn't close to her. I was happy to fly for the first time though."

At this he raised an eyebrow at her but she continued to sip her tea as if nothing was wrong.

"O....k....," he continued. "As I said, I play in band. I play the keyboard and sometimes fill in for the bass guitarist."

"Wait, is bass guitar the one with 4 strings?"

"Yes, it is. It's not as flashy as the lead guitarist but it is important for the band."

"Umm hmm...." she replied.

"Anyways," he continued, noting the sarcasm in her voice. "So, keyboard and bass guitar. I'm not much of a singer though. I leave that to the lead singer."

PizzaLover123 was enjoying listening to him explain his band and the various gigs they had done, their experiences on the road, squabbling, and their musical influences. He seemed like a nice enough guy who was earnest, loved his music, and also read a lot. After they were done talking about the band, they moved to the subject of books.

"I was in school when the Harry Potter books came out," she told him. "And my whole family wanted to read the books as soon as we got them. So finding time alone to read in silence was rare because all of us were fighting to read the book. So what I used to do was after everyone went off to sleep, I would pick up the book, remove the curtains from my bedroom window, and read in the light which came from the streetlight outside on the street."

He laughed. "Really, you could see in the darkness?"

"I had to! Flashlight was too risky and I didn't own a mobile phone. The streetlight was bright enough but the issue was my father's bladder," she said. "Every night he gets up at 2a.m. for a leek, and during this pee break, he comes and checks into every room to make sure no one is upto any hanky-panky. Whether everyone's sleeping or not."

At this, KeyboardPlaya87 laughed so hard that his tea spilled a little onto the floor. He quickly kept it down on the table and slapping his thighs, laughed and snorted at the same time.

"That's so funny!" he said when he finally stopped laughing. "Were you ever caught?"

"Of course! Which is why he made mom sleep in the same room as me to keep a check," she explained. "He didn't want me dozing off in class because I was up all night reading books."

"I have to admire your resolve," he said proudly. "When I read the Harry Potter books, I felt the same too. Recently, I read the Lord of the Rings series and it was the same...."

And he went on to explain in detail the plot of the series, the comparison of the books and the movies, CGI effects, etc. After this they talked in detail about other books they had read, authors they liked and authors they thought were worthless. As the discussion kept going, the hours flew by and the number of tea cups kept increasing. As the sun started to settle in the sky and sent an orange twinge across the horizon, signaling it's journey into the underworld to let the moon and stars take over the sky, PizzaLover123 was both in wonder and admiration of her new friend. And for some reason she could not help herself from wondering what it would be like to rip his loose shirt off his chest and "go to town" on him.

(To be continued)

New Love Stories Part IV

Read Part I here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2011/04/new-love-stories.html
Read Part II here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2012/02/new-love-stories-part-ii.html
Read Part III here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/02/new-love-stories-part-iii.html

"Do you wanna see a picture of Sir-Abs-a-Lot?" Tweetster24 asked her friend.

"Yes, of course," PizzaLover123 replied. 

Tweetster24 quickly unlocked her smartphone, tapped a couple of buttons, smiled when she reached the picture, swung the phone around so that her friend could see the picture finally.

PizzaLover123 took the phone from her friend and saw the picture. The guy in the picture was smiling warmly. He was wearing an unbuttoned shirt which showed his well-sculpted abs all the way down to the navel. He had dark eyes which were crinkled in the sun, when this photo was taken, and which made him look all the more adorable. PizzaLover123's heart skipped a beat when she focused back on his smile. She had seen this guy before. And she knew him really well....

It was four years ago, to be exact. PizzaLover123 was still struggling as a teenager on the cusp of adulthood and navigating her way through the cliques of undergraduate college. Most of her time was spent in the library as her girlfriends were busy canoodling with their boyfriends. Her guy friends were off chasing any and every single girl worth their attention. Which is why the library was full of the fat girls and lesbians. And PizzaLover123. The other girls were out enjoying the attention under the warm autumn sun.

The month had just began which meant that new magazines had come in and PizzaLover123 wanted to be among the first to browse through the pages and smell the freshly-printed issues. She always smelled books before reading them. For some reason it calmed her. Reassured that everything in the world was right and there was peace all over. She would flip the pages fast many times if she was tensed. Lesser if she was happy. Today she was not too over the moon and it was her fifth time smelling the new paper and glue.

"Are you going to check that out?"

At the sudden voice, PizzaLover123 was shaken out of her sexual book dream and startled, looked around to locate the source of the voice. 

Standing to her left, at the entrance of the two rows of bookshelves, was a boy she had never seen before. He was tanned, had long hair which fell to his shoulders, and a skinny physique. His face was round and full though. And his expression was half amusement and half laughter.

Regaining her senses, she held the magazine to her chest, and said, "You can't check out magazines. You'd know it if you'd ever visited a library before this."

"Hey, hey, hey!" the boy held up his hands. "Don't kill me for asking what would be on anyone's mind if they saw you like that. Looked like you were getting turned on."

PizzaLover123's eyes widened and her face flushed with embarrassment.

"You do a good 'deer in the headlights' expression too," he said. "Ever tried out for the drama club? My friend's a director in the Hindi drama club. I could introduce you."

"No, thanks," PizzaLover123 said in a low voice. She'd been embarrassed enough for the day. She wanted to leave the library but just couldn't. She wanted to check out the other books of the shelves too but the boy was not making any attempts to leave. And she couldn't leave now. Students would start coming in and start checking out and reserving the books and she couldn't let that happen. She wanted all the books to herself.

"Fine by me," he replied and turned his eyes to the bookshelf facing the opposite of the one she was browsing through. "Theatre might never know what it's missing."

"OK, stop! Enough with the jabs."

He laughed and turned to look at her. She looked at him with anger but was still a bit embarrassed. For some reason she couldn't bear being angry at him. His face had a warm and calming quality. Like the books she was smelling.... Was she being turned on in the middle of the library by a human?

"Sorry," he apologised. "What are you reading anyway?"

"It's the latest issue of National Geographic," she replied. "You can tell by their iconic yellow frame."

"Yes, like Time has the red frame," he added.

She looked up at him suddenly, impressed, and smiled. He looked sideways at her too.

"You're impressed, I see. Don't you get that often?"

"From the knuckleheads that go here? No!"

"Hey, I'm one of those knuckleheads too, you know. And so are you."

"Yes," she agreed. "But I'm a bit less knucklehead-y than the rest. Bit more sane."

"You can't be the judge of that."

"No, I can't be," she answered. "But wouldn't you agree?"

He looked at her again an open book in hand, mid-browse. 

"Much as I am shocked by your jab, I have to agree with you, miss," he answered.

PizzaLover123 smiled and put the magazine next to her on a stool to browse through later on one of the comfy couches in the library's reading area. Her attention turned to the other books on the shelves.

"Which course are you in?" he asked her. "I'm Economics, final year."

"Pol. Science," she replied. "Second year."

"Politics," he said in a sing-song voice, smiling. "No wonder."

"What?" she asked in an offended tone. "You think Imma feminist beyatch your ass?"

He looked at her with shock. She looked at him and wondered what he was thinking. She'd had this response ready ever since school when the other kids would tease her for being too much of a bookworm, and she'd pick verbal fights with them over the intricacies of national and international politics when all the other kids wanted was to make jokes of the situation. They called her a "Femi-Nazi" to keep her from raining down more political theories and ideologies. 

"Actually, no, I'm not afraid of that," he finally answered after a few seconds of silence. "I was wondering that I'd never seen you around as we aren't in the same course."

She realised her mistake."I'm sorry," she told him.

"That's the second time within five minutes. Wonder how many more times you'll say it if we continue this conversation," he said.

"We don't have to continue this conversation," she said matter-of-fact. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"I mean, we could talk about something else," she explained. "That's what I meant."

"Of course," he agreed. "But I do love it when women get all fired up about their causes."

PizzaLover123 rolled her eyes. She strongly restricted herself from responding to that jab. She would only respond if he kept the sexist comments going.

"Rolling your eyes is also an expression of your thoughts, by the way," he said, smiling widely. Now she was stopping herself from even doing that. He was getting on her nerves for sure.

"Do you wanna take all these books and reserve them?" he asked her. He had picked a couple of books from his side of the shelf. "I do wanna catch up on the National Geographic too. Would you mind sharing it with me once you're done?"

She looked at him, puzzled. "Umm...sure, I'd do it. When I'm done reading it."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "Do you want to go to the cafe with me then? I'm a bit thirsty and hungry, both."

"Um...well I have a bottle of water with me and some biscuits," she offered. "Do you want to share those?"

"Oh no, I could not ask that of you," he answered. "I'd rather take milady out and treat her to a really cheap tea or coffee. Which one do you prefer?"

She smiled. But she was also surprised. No guy had asked her to tea or coffee yet. Most guys would say "coffee" but this one gave her an option of either. Not both. That was probably because both of them were on a restricted college budget.

"Tea, please," she replied. 

He smiled. "Perfect! Me too."

They looked at each other and smiled. The conversation was moving in a favourable direction for them both.

"Let's go then," PizzaLover123 said.

(To be continued)

Read Part V here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/02/new-love-stories-part-v.html

The Art of Procrastinating

I could procrastinate any time, anywhere, any day. Life however, has different plans. It makes me run around in circles, struggling through mazes, and fighting with hungry alligators at each step. Yes, I watch a lot of Animal Planet these days which is why I used jungle references of a tough life. You can relate to it be adding in problems of your own. I'll leave it as a fill-in-the-blanks exercises for you.

Procrastination is in my nature. It's as much an inherited nature like eye rolling is. Liz Lemon did not teach me how to roll my eyes, as some people would like to believe. I was rolling my eyes at my dad's bad jokes in the womb, probably. Because a lot of what I say is on an intellectually different level to what some near and dear ones are at, I have had to resort to an unbelievable number of eye rolls to convey my reactions.

However, back to procrastination. Why do I want to talk about it? Because I've not completed a book in the past few months. If an aggressively voracious reader like me can't finish a book, that should mean trouble, right? Or am I becoming dumb? Or just plain lazy? Or is it the lack of time....?

Work has definitely had an influence on my life. I never used to drool in cars earlier because I love journeys a lot. However, some days, after a late night, the landscape on the way to Gurgaon is littered with too much waste, overturned vehicles, dead animals, or perv cab drivers who'd rather stare in cars with women than concentrate on the road. God, I hope I don't snore while I do a "quickie" in the cab. I don't mind being a pain in the ass but I do NOT want to be a nuisance. My cab mate's sweet that way. The driver on the other hand, he snores and breathes heavily (apart from puking) while driving with us in the back seat. Yeah, he's a gem!

The point that I'm trying to make is, I can't write a single thing and see to its completion either. And the reason I can't stay on topic is for the same reason. I procrastinate. But am I complaining? Hell, no! I don't belive I'm missing out on anything. I am doing more than I've done before. One good thing is that I'm back to studies and devouring class notes like a hungry lion, at least. And I do love dozing off in class too. When I wake up suddenly and see the mess that my subconscious mind made on the page while taking notes during a "quickie" is hilarious. It really is. I'll probably Instagram a pic someday.

Procrastination is good sometimes. I don't want to be so tightly wound up that I become a "missy on a hissy". I like being laidback and watch time pass by. I wonder what it's like to be a nomad sometimes. To throw ambitions and goals to the wind and live life each day without fear. Each day would hold different adventures. Each moment would be an adventure.

But dreams be dreams, don't they? Till I see them come true I would like to continue to procrastinate, tilt my head to the side, and start day dreaming. John Dorian style. That's what I'm talkin' about!

A Journey Is an Adventure in Itself

A handloom at the shawl emporium, Manali

One of the best feelings in the world is when I travel. I just love the journey be it anywhere. I love to lower the window and let the wind, regardless of how warm or cold it is, rush through my hair. I love wind in my power. And I think my straight, non-fussy hair are perfect for this. Even after messing it up in every way possible, it still falls straight down. Thanks, galactic powers to-be. You probably knew all along that I couldn't be bothered to brush them out.Anyways, enough back-handed self compliments. Back to the joys of the journey. Whenever I get into a vehicle, I imagine soft music playing in my head, sit back and settle into the seat, and turn my head towards the window. I'm all prepped for the journey. This is when I'm ready for the world. Bring on your sights, sounds, people, and wonders. My mind will take them all in.


At Manikaran, Manali

Because I have a runaway imagination, there is a story everywhere I see. And of course, each person gets their own soundtrack. The busy ones get calm instrumental music. The quiet ones get music with lyrics. The agitated ones get a folk/country singer performing live at their side. The dreamers get a grand musical show all to themselves. I have to partial to them. They are after all  "my people".


Of course, like Japanese tourists, I too get trigger happy and look for things, people, places (crevices and cliffs included), and sights to click and capture. Of course, there is nothing like the mind to relive the memory of the moment. And you need people to share the experience it with. The moment when you experience something life-changing and you look sideways to see that the friend standing next to you also experienced the same are moments worth cherishing. My "moments" always make me smile. I'm proud to cherish those cheesy moments.

So go have those journeys. Go click those moments. Cherish those memories and make sure you have plenty of those to keep you company for a lifetime.

New Love Stories Part III

Read Part I here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2011/04/new-love-stories.html
Read Part II here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2012/02/new-love-stories-part-ii.html

PizzaLover123 was starting a new academic year in a couple of days. During the summer, she had spent hopeless days pining over imaginative actor boyfriends and old male friends she was interested in. In a way her summer had been wasted. What she was looking forward to however, was the return of a friend from her vacations. Apparently this friend had a lot of things to tell her. A lot had happened in this friend's holiday and PizzaLover123 was excited to get some gossip at last.

For the sake of her friend's anonymity, let's call her Tweetster24, because clearly she loved to tweet.

"I'm a slut!" Tweetster24 sighed.

Almost immediately after barging her way in to PizzaLover123's bedroom and sloping down on her bed, she started to narrate the events of her summer vacation.

"No, you're not! Don't say that." PizzaLover123 tried to calm her friend and reassure faith in her friend's own innocence.

"But the BOYS! Oh, the boys...." Tweetster24 sighed.

"There was more than one boy?"

"Of course! One boy? Gosh, this isn't the 20th century, girl!"

PizzaLover123 suddenly blushed and stroked her hair. "Of course, not! 20th century, whaa-at!" she laughed nervously. "Ancient rules suck!"

"Totally!" Tweetster24 chimed in, rolling her eyes. "So anyways, you know that Monty and I were barely talking to each other when we went on separate holidays, right? Well, 2 days into my peaceful vacation away from that bastard, I checked my Facebook wall. And do you know what I saw?"

"Monty was smoking weed?"

"Monty always used to smoke weed. That's not a big deal," Tweetster24 said. "I saw that male slut with this French tourist. He was making out with her!! Can you imagine?? Knows her barely a day and jumps in bed with her!"

"How do you know that he slept with her?"

"Oh, he only puts a girl on his profile pic if he's slept with them," Tweetster24 said matter of fact. The ones who find mention on his Wall are the ones he wants to sleep with. The ones that he talks to in messages are the ones he's baiting but aren't worthy to grace his 'Bang-Wall-of-Fame'. He's disgusting!"

"And yet-"

"And yet my heart is his slave," Tweetster24 said sadly.

"That's such a load of bull!" PizzaLover123 exclaimed. "You know you were only with him 'coz of the car."

"The car might have been an incentive but it was not the only thing."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about the wallet."

"And his sexy abs," Tweetster24 said dreamily. "I used to think abs like those were only real in Photoshop."

PizzaLover123 laughed. Seeing her, Tweetster24 also started laughing. For a minute, both of them laughed as hard as they could. When they stopped, the juicy conversation continued.

"I met a boy there," Tweetster24 continued. "He was such a flirt, I tell you, but you know, by now I'm used to those types."

"I know," PizzaLover123 said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, well, we were together a lot. And the things we did! Oh, the things we did....."

"Did you finally break your 'no sex oath'?" PizzaLover123 asked.

"The whole point of the vacation was to break it," Tweetster24 said matter-of-fact.

"I can't believe you did that!" PizzaLover123 said shocked.

"Come on! I only said the point of the vacation was to do it," Tweetster24 interjected. "I haven't admitted to doing anything. Not yet."

"So you found a loophole."

Tweetster24 laid her head down on a pillow, clasped her hands on her stomach, and looked up at the ceiling pensively. "So I found a loophole."

(To be continued)

Read Part IV here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/03/new-love-stories-part-iv.html
Read Part V here: http://herethis-therethat.blogspot.in/2013/02/new-love-stories-part-v.html