Statement of Purpose

Yeah, so, basically, there was this girl. A girl who didn't like to really refer to herself as a girl. Not because she was a tomboy or gay or a feminist. But because she felt itchy under restrictive terms. And also, because she struggled with the realisation that she was an actual living, breathing individual.

Okay, so there was this female person who wanted to write. And she did write, in her poems, her journal, the margins of her college notebooks, ramblings in her blog incomprehensible and insane to most. She did write. She had written since the age of six, mock publishing stories and series. But she wanted to WRITE write. She wanted to spin the story that lived inside her soul. The narrative of her conscious existence. The urban adolescent story. The life within her life. The story of the decade that she had lived, the story of the decade that she wished to document!

But, somehow, around seven years of that decade that already passed.

A miniature vent

Tomorrow's curse or tomorrow's promise?
Today's indecision is pure bliss
Taking each day one step at a time
Is confusion really such a crime?
Leave me to my drifting ways
Let go of what's meant to go, let it stay if it's supposed to stay!

New favourite song of the nano-second

'Put It Down'
Artist: Mike Doughty
Album: Golden Delicious
Heart of my heart, got to leave you today
You don’t love me and you won’t understand
Cut by the thorns, oh I must loosen my grip
Got to let the flower fall from my hand

Down, put it put it down
Put it down down put it down down put it down
Go, let it let it go
Let it go go let it go go let it go
Mail, drop it in the mail
Drop it in the mail drop it in the mail drop it in the
Sauce, bottle up the sauce
Bottle up the sauce bottle up the sauce
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na

Love of all loves, you have made a mistake
Only saw the flaws and now you regret
My mind’s aggrieved and my belly’s ablaze
I have swallowed all the words that you said

Down, put it put it down
Put it down down put it down down put it down
Go, let it let it go
Let it go go let it go go let it go
Mail, drop it in the mail
Drop it in the mail drop it in the mail drop it in the
Sauce, bottle up the sauce
Bottle up the sauce bottle up the sauce
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na

Not exactly Shakespeare, but like Hugh Grant says in 'Music and Lyrics', the pop song is more likely to touch the human heart than the most eloquent piece of masterfully woven prose. Maybe I'm not in love, maybe I've not been dumped, maybe I've just had a bad day and I like to hear someone say "Put it down...let it go!" or maybe I'm just plain happy it's great to hear someone reminding me of the resilience of the human spirit. We can always tweak a song's meaning around to suit us.
Good music always knows what to say.

The Red Bucket

I wanted to explain the picture that accompanies my blog title. It may look like a red bucket filled with water. But it's much much more than that...
The bucket was positioned halfway under the roof outside my house and halfway beneath the cloudy sky. One half of the bucket displays the water as it is. You can see the circular red bottom of the bucket.
The other half reflects part of the basketball hoop attached to the wall above. It also reflects the unfathomable sky. When I look at that picture, I can feel the clouds swirling, forever dynamic. It reminds me of all the times that I take a walk outside and not once have I missed the opportunity to tilt my head upwards and take in the view of that imposing, immeasurable sky. When I feel troubled or fearful of life, when I feel the walls closing in, all I do is look up at the sky. It reminds me of the fact that there are no limits to one's spirit. As long as the sky stretches, the human spirit is free.
So, I stare at the photograph of the red bucket. One half is unmoving, opaque, just red. I look at the other half. The other half is what I want my life to be.

Lock your libraries- the bookworm attacks!

Perdonez-moi for the delay, but I guess I’ve taken the meaning of vacation way too literally.
While my peers have been living it up by going on road trips, partying and being, well, what is expected of the youth, I have been nestled in my little island, surrounded by high walls of books. Eccentric? Recluse? Pseudo-intellectual? Or just plain boring? I’m too self-content to care.
Still haven’t read ‘Wuthering Heights’ (got bored after the first sentence), ‘Of Human Bondage’ or ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ (All the classics are lined up in the drawing room showcase alongwith the encyclopaedia and my few trophies. I’ve read the encycloapedia more than any of these.) So, I’m not as bookwormy as you might think. I like a good dose of emotion, dialogue, some drama and some culture. Sardonic humour is major plus. I don’t like mysteries, wars, thrillers, science, too much of romance, teen plots, too much of setting description and jargon. I have surprised myself by reading (and liking) Henry Cecil’s legal comedies, the first book of Artemis Fowl fantasy and ‘The Godfather’ by Mario Puzo. My taste in books and movies is varied and erratic.
This time however, what I did read were (in repeated fervent borrowing trips to the library):
‘A Hundred (or thousand) Shades of White’ by Preetha Nair (I think)
‘World’s Richest Losers’ (from Gloria Vanderbilt to Marilyn Monroe to Howard Hughes)
‘Desirable Daughters’ by Bharathi Mukherjee
‘Chicken Soup for the dieter’s soul’ (an, ahem, attempt at motivation)
‘Rainy nights in Madras’ by Samina Ali
‘Size 14 is not fat either’ by Meg Cabot (Give me the first three Princess Diaries and the first ‘All American Girl’ any day over Meg Cabot’s other works. Actually, the Diaries are ok even till the sixth)
‘The Year I Turned Sixteen’ (with a testimonial from MTV VJ Anusha on the cover about how it made her want to be sixteen again However, I must mention that the author has given us snapshots of Noida-Delhi and it reminds me of the holidays spent with my cousins in dreamy little Noida before it became associated with murder.) by some author whose name I forget (Apologies)
… And some other books that I’ve forgotten completely
Apart from the chicken soup, nothing else really left a warm feeling in my stomach.
RIGHT NOW, however, I’m reading ‘The Little Prince’ by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, a delicious little book (yes it’s little! And it’s got drawings! Why has this book been avoiding me all these years?!) I swear, it was neatly wedged between huge volumes of Charles Dickens and crew and it just winked out to me. I was captivated from the first page. Will review it once I’m done. I’m drawing it out slowly.
Also reading: ‘A Marriage Made in Heaven or Too Tired for an Affair’ by Erma Bombeck (I love her. She’s too funny), a short stories collection, ‘On a Shoestring to Coorg’ by Dervla Murphy (so far really interesting and well-written), ‘Chasing Rainbows in Chennai’ (not so much about Chennai as I discovered, disappointed) by Colin Todhunter.

Not just books, this semester break has been one of film appreciation. Do I have to be completely honest and mention that this fine art began with the viewing of ‘Golmaal Returns’? Well, honestly speaking, it did and I kinda enjoyed it. It’s brainless and noisy!
Mum and I had a full movie outing (thrilled me to bits) by watching ‘Fashion’ and ‘Quantum of Solace’ consecutively. ‘Fashion’ was excellent but what blew my mind was Kangana Ranaut’s performance. Seriously, that girl is an underrated actress. I thought she was pretty good in that movie, whatsitsname ‘Woh Lamhe’ but in this she simply stuns. I felt so much power in her portrayal as the arrogant, cokehead supermodel-the way she blazed into the screen, the way she portrayed her reckless self-destruction. She needs to work on her voice but her body language speaks volumes.
The big Bond movie was not as much of an impact as ‘Casino Royale’ was. Daniel Craig, of course was brilliant with his steely gaze, undoubtedly the toughest Bond ever. But the movie was far too much of action and far too less of style. Bond girl Olga is cute though.
On dvd, I watched ‘Phoonk’ (don’t even ask) ‘U2: Rattle and Hum’(Goosebumps for this one. Especially the band performance of ‘Bad’, probably in my top 5 favourite songs of all time) and ‘Roman Holiday’ ( Awwwwwwww. Audrey Hepburn’s so cute!)
And tomorrow, I’ve got plans to see ‘Dostana’. That concludes my checklist of movies I wanted to see (No, ‘Golmaal…’ was not on it. That was Numbi Jim’s insistence. She considers it a religious rite to pay homage to Kareena Kapoor). But I don’t I’ll run out of such lists.
Bring it on!

P.S: Since writing this, I've watched 'Dostana' (funneeee but the second half is a bit too typical rom-com resolution. Can't blame them though!) and finished reading 'The Little Prince' (beautiful)

"But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart...."

Heroes, hope and an education

As one of my dear friends (Ess it was) said, I tend to write most of my blog posts during exam season.

I can't help it. When I'm studying Development Communication, I want to be Bono or president. When I'm studying Visual Analysis and Aesthetics, I'm Freud or Saussure. (Definitely NOT Althusser!) Problem is, it's like being age ten all over again... I want a different career each day of the week! I thought twenty was when you made up your mind.

Hmmm. So that's the plan for now. Let multiple pursuits replace indecision. But the general aim is to contribute to the world. I want to do some good.

Oh, did I mention the newest idol on Estarra's pedestal? It's Obama. He has certainly changed the face of international politics and to use his own phrase (or atleast one that's attributed to him), he has given us the chance to believe in the "audacity of hope". Seriously. I'm not so familiar with his policies and stuff, but generally as a human being, he comes across as dignified and focused. He's come up without being heir to vast fortunes, being half-Black and using brain over fake talk. (Man, my blood boiled when Arnold Schwarzenegger passed such pathetic comments about Obama's lack of muscle.)

I don't want to make a fool out of myself by attempting to talk global politics ( ha, ha, ha) but all I can say is that I really want him to win!

That's one problem with looking up to someone. You're hoping against hope that they're as perfect as they appear to be, hoping for that hero who stands for believing in your dreams to rise up and restore light to life. Anyway, let's look up to him while it lasts. Let me have a symbol of the light at the end of some kind of tunnel. Let me have my reason to climb out of adolescent messes and general confusion. There's so much more to life and it's good to be reminded by a man whose name is one letter away from that of an international terrorist, yet might just become the leader of the free world.

So, that's the general situation for now. Oh and I'm studying about defence mechanisms. I think sublimation (the transformation of negative and unpleasant feelings into something positive as a way to control instincts, to protect the ego and to release tension) might just be my favourite type of defence mechanism. I may not always get it spot on. But I try.

See you on the other side of Election Day!

Pause for a Sad Love Song

Sometimes you listen to sad songs on purpose, don't you?

This mad girl, Ra introduced me to 'Cannonball' by Damien Rice. It's so exquisitely painful, that aching addiction that you can't resist. You're perfectly peaceful, the weather's great and you have a whole heart that you have sort of succeeded in tying up and securing in its rightful place. Yet, you knowingly stumble into the poetic verse of a goodbye song. And you live a heartbreak moment right then and there. Whether you're denying it, whether you've experienced it, whether you want to experience or not.

"It's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball"

That's the problem with these sad love songs. You can relate to them somehow or the other. Whether you've been through a million or nil relationships (I belonging to the latter category) you can just feel something.

If you ever get into one of those moods, you know what to do...

'You' - Switchfoot

'Ishtihaar' - Rabbi

'Chhalla' - Rabbi

'Khalouni' - Cheb Mami

'Tzazae' - Cheb Mami

'Apologise' - Timbaland feat. One Republic

'Easy to Please' - Coldplay

'Eleanor' - Low Millions

'Every breath you take' - The Police

'Stigmatized' - The Calling (beeauutiful)

'Mar Jaawaan' - 'Fashion'
'Mein Herz Brennt' - Rammstein

'Najaney kyun' - Strings

'Varaka Nathikarai' - 'Sangamam' ( I don't know why this song makes me sad but it does)

'Ye mera divanapan hai' - 'The Namesake'

'Ek geet hijar da' - Rabbi

'Afterglow' - INXS (of course)

'Simple like the truth' - Darius

'Undiscovered' - Ashlee Simpson

'Thaiyya thaiyya' - 'Dil Se'

'Polly come home' - Robert Plant and Alison Krauss

'With or without you' - U2

'All I want is you' - U2

Or the best way to get out of it would be to listen to some good old chauvinistic, unsentimental 50 Cent, don't cha think?