THE journal

There was this time when I had a cute little girly journal(pink adds the needed feel, you know). I adored it so much that I had even named it (I shall NOT disclose the name in order to protect the remaining izzat of the blogowner and to let people keep thinking that I do have some threads of sanity left in me).

I would write about things that bothered me in that dirty lil book of mine. Of course, it was kept hidden from my sister’s prying eyes. Not that she didn’t know about all the things that were in that book (I tell her EVERYTHING and vice versa)(heylo, what are sisters for?!) but I just didn’t want her to read it. My writing. What I had written. I just have this thing about people reading things that I don’t want them to read. A quirky one is that I don’t like her (or anyone for that matter) looking over my shoulder while I type a blog entry. Basically, I don’t like people prying over my work which is in progress. It just gives me the creeps. Similarly, I hate it when teachers try to look into my notebook while Iam working out a sum. It simply destroys my concentration and makes me hasty and get disoriented. This one time during an exam, the invigilator was staring away to glory at my work! It got on my nerves(like duh!!) and I stared back at her. I didn’t want to distrub the rest of the students around me by talking to her and asking her to go away. So I simply gave a nice, long, piercing frown-type-stare. Hah! The good ole lady walked away and didn’t come back!!

So. Where were we? Yea, the journal. Yesterday, I happened to come across it and couldn’t help feeling what-a-moron-I-was-back-then. It was simply hilarious, and at times outrageous. Things like, sheesh!!-how-could-I-ever-let-that-bother-me-so-much and how-could-I-possibly-have-a-crush-on-HIM *shock*. The crush part was especially strange! You know how weird 12-13 year olds can get!

Well, my journal writing days didn’t last long though. I somehow felt very insecure about having my innermost feelings lying around in a cupboard. What was I to do if someone (read parents) read it?!?! *holy horror* So the intelligent brain of mine convinced me to tear the ‘danger’ sheets off, soak them in water so that the writing becomes illegible and finally smash the remains to completely destroy any evidence of my madness. Hah!! *gleaming eyes* I actually did all that. I tore the pages and soaked them in water. However, somehow, some part of me urged to stop right there and compelled me to retrieve the sheets. And so I went on a reverse mission. So what followed was a nervous emptying of a pink bucket and the heroic rescue of those precious documents. Oh the documents! They were all written with ball-point pen, so the writing was still intact. Yipee!!! I dried the paper in my sunlit balcony. I actually spent an entire afternoon in that balcony, guarding my feelings on pulp and quickly hiding them with a large towel and pretended to be drying the towel whenever my sister gave an occasional peep. After 2 hours of evaporation and all that my sheets (now they were reduced to weird smushy pulpy thingies) were carefully stapled and placed back in the same journal. The journal was then hidden away in an obscure corner of my wardrobe(clothes section) (arghh! Now you know where I keep all my secret-secret stuff!) and forgotten about.

Yesterday, while glancing through those pages, I found out something about myself. Rather, I realized something about myself which I aleady knew. (yea, its kind of twisted). I am pretty touchy when it comes to things like trust. I hate it when someone I trust breaks my heart. And I somehow feel ashamed of the fact that I ever trusted that person. I don’t know why exactly I feel this way, but this is it. I can’t take people breaking my heart and its surprising how often the same has been done. I mean seriously, why are people so mean at times?

Confessions of a net-addict

7.30 am......

Net-addict(NA) has just woken up. She had a glass of juice while charting out a mental schedule for herself (an extremely ambitious one that too). After having juice, she is supposed to do her homework, but she feels this inexplicable, incredibly strong urge to rush to the pc, switch it on and surf away to glory. What if there is a new mail? A new comment? A new something? This urge surpasses her already weak will-power(which is known to have betrayed her to such an extent that she ate up full boxes of belgian chocolate(yumm…) at a go on many occasions till date) and she is on her way to the pc. She may spend only 10 mins online, but she simply has to do it.

2 pm.......

NA has had her lunch. She should be preparing for her classes in the evening. Yet, strangely enough, she finds herself drawn to the pc the way iron filings are drawn to a magnet. She tries to resist. She takes her books to the other room. Somehow, she starts feeling so thirsty that she absolutely must get up and go to the pc room, the room where her bottles are also present. However, in a bizarre(?) turn of events she takes a detour to the pc even before she has reached the bottles. PC switched on. Net working. NA has given in. Again. SMS from friend arrives.

“Hey, what r u doin?”

“Er… Iam online. Sorrryyyy :(”

A surge of guilt takes over. NA promises to blog about this in the hope of alleviating her angst and guilt for being unable to control her whims.

9.15pm.......

NA has returned from her classes. This is normally the time when she can do all her fun-things without feeling guilty since 9-10pm is her destress time. She blogs about her addiction. Her inability to work untill she has a shot of mail-checking, blog-reading, and other net-related things.

She thinks, probably no one has even got an idea that behind that ‘normal’ exterior, there lies a hidden, dangerous, compulsive, wicked net-addict. A net-addict who wants to be normal.

Azureline

Some people have been asking me what on earth azureline means and why is it *ahem* fortunate enough to be on my blog url. Well, there are several ways in which I can explain this really cute and sophisticated sounding term (by the way, its pronounced as uzh-your-lin)(its pronounced this way because I pronounce it this way). Hmm.

Azure means blue. Blue has always brought me luck. Most of my clothes are blue or pink(yes, yes, very girly). The endless, elusive, intriguing skies are azure. The seas and oceans are azure. The picture hanging on the wall behind this PC is azure. Azureline somehow represents the horizons, the boundaryless edges, where the sun rises and sets, where the waters and ships go out of sight, all things elusive. All things that show that the world is round and what goes around, comes around- Karma basically, which I am a believer of.

Then again, Azureline starts with an ‘a’ and the second letter is ‘z’. ‘a’ is the first letter of the english alphabet and ‘z’ is the last. This denotes completion, completion of something, a full circle. Azureline has 9 letters. Numbers like 3, 9, 13 have been often associated with bad luck. Its quite the reverse for me. Infact, 13 is a very lucky number, all you non-believers! Go to the library and read Linda Goodman’s Love Signs p.17. You’ll gain some valuable insight into the way the number 13 works. 13 stands for wisdom and is very lucky when used for the right purpose.

So, this is azureline. There.

*phew*

Dubara mat poochna!

News...

There have been certain changes in the way things are done at our dear tutorial over the past few days. Some of them have been most annoying which I thought I should record somewhere so that I remember what morons I had once shared roof with(for 3 hrs each day)(bless the heavens for that).

Firstly, the namesake director(who is actually a jobless female with neither any brains nor ethics)(power-hungry at the same time) has made it mandatory for everyone to carry a rather hideous, disgusting GREEN bag(provided by the insti, which is only for advertising) to the insti. How silly is that?? Why should I advertise the stupid insti when I don’t even like half the people there?(well, the teachers are all nice and all that. The managerial staff suck big time.) Not fair, right? Anyway, they are morons! Hah!! They know not that I dost not advertise their insti!! I creep out of my house, make a quick entry into my car, whiz off to the insti and there I am! No one, apart from the watchman(as if he cares!), sees the dreadful advertisement-bag!!No advertising on the way!! Mission accomplished! *evil grin**makes a conspiratory gesture with her fingers at the same time*

Secondly.....

Okay, this part has been censored for certain reasons. This decision has been taken by the blogowner in the best interest of her health and well-being.

Thirdly, Eye-Karela1 (one of the attendance boys) has gotten Eye-Karela2 transferred to another branch! Sheesh! Politics even amongst the attendance boys! Once, while EK1 was in our class taking our attendance, he was gloating about how successfully he has gotten EK2’s butt kicked. We were all horrified that he was actually telling us that! On being asked why he was so against EK2, he told us that EK2 gossips a lot (hah! do you see the irony here?). Of course, all of us shot right back at him! We told him that HE was gossiping. With us!(not that we were on EK2’s side)(we just wanted to pull EK1’s legs). This was followed by a rather quick succession of blushing, hushing and rushing out of the class on EK1’s part! Poor fellow!!

Fourthly, the morons(read management) at our dear tutorial have arranged for three ‘complain boxes’ at an obsure corner of the insti. All of us are conspiring to stuff it with abusive letters to the guy-in-charge-of-everything or Pathetic Loser(PL). PL actually administers corporal punishment(hitting on the palm with a duster)(how sick is that!)(is he even educated??) on students who score low on the tests. Well, this once, I was also one of the low scorers *shameful shameful* (but heylo??! Its allowed to do badly atleast once or twice in 2-3 months!!). The people who were sitting in front of me had already been hit *tearful*. It was my turn. PL was smiling sardonically at me. I refused to show my palm and gave him a looonnnggg lecture on how horrible and unethical it is to hit students and I also let him know that its illegal in many countries ,just to scare the creep! It worked! *heroic achievement**claps please* Well, it didn’t work completely though. He still does this in other classes. He didn’t dare to come to our class after that!! However, it really pains and worries me so as to how people can tolerate such injustice quietly? It is their DUTY to speak against such heinous acts. Speak people, speak!

Anyway, enough of gyan-spreading and PL-bashing (not really, no amount of PL bashing is enough!!). I should get back to work or I’ll flunk my upcoming tests.

Weird sisters are weirder than you thought!!

5 years back…

In Manali…

In some deodar park or something…

2 girls and their parents had gone site-seeing. There was this other family whom they had bumped across the second time on that trip(destiny!). The important thing to be noted is that there were two cute boys(*drool*) in that family. The girls had been most thrilled to get a few glimpses of them the second time. At one point, while touring the park(or whatever) they reached an isolated area. They thought they were the only ones there and started having a loud, animated chat about some topic they had reserved for a clandestine discussion. This seemed to be perfect. Walking along the track….

S1: I think its okay now…*looking at her side*

S2: Yea.. So, I think we should should seriously resolve not to call each other all those silly things.

S1: Yea, please yaa, don’t call me chimpoo in public

S2: You also don’t call me buzzi in public… Its most embarrassing.

S1: The other day at Elite, that man thought we were nutcases. Calling each other weird things.

S2: I know!! I saw the look on his face!! He was awestruck. Poor man! *giggles*

S1: *giggles hysterically* Ok. So it’s a deal then?

S2: Yep, deal.

S1: Only proper names to be used.

S2: Yes.

Both were happy and satisfied that they came to an amicable deal. So far so good. Suddenly, they hear footfalls. *beads of sweat on S2’s forehead**S1 gulps audibly* . The two of them turn around to find cute boys walking along the same track!! They were apparently there all along and these two were blithely unaware of them!*both turn a deep shade of pink instantly**quickly disappear from scene of crime*

Moral of the story- Always check all four directions before blabbering shame-inducing-making-ears-turn-pink type things.

Note: Elite Fashions is a garment store in Bandra, Mumbai (atleast it was one untill 3 years back) which S1 and S2 are very fond of and love shopping over there since they believe it has the best clothes one can possibly find under one roof.

Weird Sisters

I would like to thank J.K.Rowling for, among many other things, having thought of the Weird Sisters- a label that suits my sister and me more than any other label possibly could(of course, apart from the lunatic twosome and mega-morons and such)!

This particular incident took place on a rainy August morning.

S: *staring at the keyboard with utter awe*

Me: *drying a pouch with a hair dryer* What?

S: *now beaming at something on her index finger; finger is pointing toward the monitor* That’s so cool!!

Me: *looking at her with sheer disgust* WHAT is so amusing to you?

S: *blowing air at the index finger* Sheesh!

Me:*has given up hope of finding out what it is that amazes her so much* *continues with the drying*

S: Ants are like, soo strong!!

Me: *gaping stupidly at her* Is that all the wisdom you have gathered after 21 years on this planet?

S: *still thrilled* Ssh! Look at this cute little thing! It simply refuses to be blown away!

Me: Wow, what an observation. *grumbles something about S being such a freak*

S: *has apparently heard the grumbling* Yea, right. Look who is speaking! The one who is trying to dry a damn pencil pouch with a blow-dryer!

Me: *gives threatening looks**continues with the blow drying**refuses to respond to that*

S’s victory laugh fills the room

S:*smiling gleefully* Hah!