excuse me

4 days,16 hours and god knows how many extra sheets later my "saga of suffering" has finally ended. I had almost no sleep this week and yesterday I went to bed at 6pm and woke up at 11,tried to call the boyfriend who was dead by then.Plop repeat.I woke up this morning at 7am to a REALLY cold Calcutta.It has been snowing in places here where snowfall has never been recorded,ever and news tells us that our (almost) coastal city would be dipping to a 5 degree C.It's not much for those who are used to a white winter,but it would be the least temperature recorded if that ever happens.One word,or a sequence of numbers if you please - 2012.I'm a skeptic I suppose- but sometimes it's thrilling/scary.Sam,however has a morbid curiosity.
Oh btw did I mention my arm is killing me?Calcutta University,I hate you- you and your dark age paper patterns. Right now I think I'm at liberty to kick my dog(I take that back-almost),almost give my dad the finger if he comes yelling "lazy" and a be total slob for the next few days.And write blog posts in short forms.I am aggravated.Universe?Do you care? Give me a sign!Make a few geese cackle or something.
I was supposed to go to a school Re-union today, but bailed.For one,I haven't met most of them for years- and that should be enough impetus to actually turn up, but then I've met a few and it's like I 've gone in a different direction and we can't communicate anymore.I don't want to stand there all awkward twirling a drink mixer.Or worse still,drink too much.Ever feel that way? I have this weird contradictory nature where I do want to go as much as I don't.Somebody should write a book about me,hopefully it would be famous after the author dies and 100 years from now some poor ass would be killing him/herself analyzing my character in a CU exam.That's how bitter and random I am right now.
Anyway,expect to see me around your blogs next week onwards!

The Banana Democratic Republic

India as we know it,through various visions of Orientalism is the land of temples,yoga,chai,snake-charmers and food-good,good food and not merely curry.I don't know what variation is meted out to poor souls out of the country,but I can assure you our cuisine,like our Kamasutra, seeks to please and not terrorize.They also do not come with a complementary package of simultanous heart and butt-burn.Remember this the next time you're being duped.
India,however, is also home to pot-holes,sweaty armpits on buses and banana peels.The latter is about to play an important part in the narrative.
Much as I love the fair (or caramel) maiden called My Country,I often reject such tawdry practices as much disregard for a panda "wide open" with Use Me stamped across it.I believe the problem lies herein-the use of an animal or an ugly plastic imitation of The Wobbly Man as trash cans.The nation could be better trained in the use of a dustbin if plastic cutouts of womenfolk (barring Aishwarya Rai- we never speak too ill of the too plastic or the too pregnant) were used instead.The use of the words "Use Me" would then retain sufficient didactic characteristics and cheap pun veiled or unveiled as chosen to be seen by the "users".No,this is not a feminist rant.Hell,I'm not even one-this is just my injured dignity talking.

I love the rains.They refresh, rejuvenate and considerably bring down the god-damn heat.I also like bananas.But rains,a careless banana eater and me does not a godly communion make.Turns out people have not been fabricating comic relief out of slipping on banana peels all this time.It happens.Happens to us all.Happened to me today.Could happen to you too.The absurdity still hasn't hit me or I'd be crippled with laughter and unable to write this post-but here I am in careful and weirded out contemplation.

It's a known fact in the world where blogs are offline and on hold while unsuspecting people partake in their mundane existence that I am a klutz.I could fall down standing up and doing nothing.I would trip atleast once out on the road and risk loosing all my teeth.Today was no different-except perhaps the usual sequence manifested itself into a magnified form.
Sweta gets off bus,takes a step and WHAM!face down,butt up in the mud.Right in front of my college.For a horrible moment I expected a  goofy T.V douche to pop-out and say "SMILE!You're on *oh GOD NO* camera!"I picked up what was left of my ragged dignity and my cellphone and scurried into the campus-still in shock-still unsure whether too laugh or nurse my throbbing knee.

It happens to the best of us except not the best laugh comes out of it.Sorry,Injured Dignity on the line again.


Who am i kidding?

It's hilarious!



P.s:I'm fine.Ow my knee.

Taker,Snatcher

There are times when you don't feel like entertaining friends at your place.To be precise,people to whom you never got around to say " Oh you wretched worm!Friends?You and I? WHY?" because you were obviously interrupted with some kind of  puerile conflict in mannerism or verbal absurdity so clearly manifested in such individuals-not that you(that is,I) are so damn perfect.Take for instance the fact that even though I'm told to be forthright and learn to say No-not only do I bail,but I bitch at length about it.Tsk.

You are in your pajamas with unwashed hair and a shower seems like a trip around the world.Your room looks like Godzilla tried to do a pirouette in it and it's just a day you don't want to be disturbed-to put it simply.In short-a day when you just don't wanna put on pants.
But along came two friends(tolerable) stringing along a Type I specimen of the aforementioned pretend-friend.(intolerable just doesn't begin to cover it)
This pretend-friend is the kind of woman who would break your expensive and extremely favourite eye-pencil in half and you'd be dead before you expect an apology out of her.Also,if you've lent her a book you might as well buy a new copy-because you wouldn't be seeing the other one.Ever again.Ominous?Think again.I live it.
But,for a few months we tried to ignore all of that rampant bad manners and the invitation to my place was probably one such instance of heartwarming insanity.
Let me ask you something..what do you do when you're at someone's house,someone who gives you the distinct impression that she doesn't like you(sorry I'm not above that when it comes to kids with rotten manners)?-do you ask her if,wait for it,you can rummage through her refrigerator?
 And if she says no?Which I did- firmly attached with a bewildered WHY?Wouldn't you back off?Wouldn't anybody back off?But then there are people from Plant Shamelessezia who eat raw ingredients of biryani from your fridge and your father just yells at you that you're a CraZy Eater with a gut the size of Greenland.(ouch!)
Why,why would anyone do that?Like you,reader I waited for her answer with bated breath..running an improbable list in my head .A wound maybe-that could only be treated with margarine from a frenemy's fridge? Portal to another world-The bitch,the Bambi and the Cold-drobe?Or did Honey shrink her kids and put them in there?Was she so far into Dexter that she hopped to find mutilated dolls on the racks?
But no.
"Oh.It's just a habit of mine".Just like that.Simple. A Oh and an It's just a habit of mine.
Nope.She's never coming back in.