Why bother?

Ok, a month left.

Jittery :|

There is no Plan B

There are some movies that make it worth crawling out of bed at 7 am and driving in pissing rain for. Movies that help you forgive the mouldy seats, crappy popcorn and the hormonal couple going at it two rows ahead.

The A Team was pretty Awesome, the sort that makes me move my bum and blog about. This used to be a series on TV that I missed on account of not being born back then. I can't really decide how it compares to the original but as a movie by itself it was one hell of a watch.

If you're the kind you enjoys meaningless wacky action, brash, loud macho stuff then A team is totally worth it. The Alpha team consists of Hannibal Smith, Face, BA and Murdock who specialize in the "ridiculous". 8 years and 80 missions down the line, everything's good for our guys till the conventional shit hits a very large fan and becomes effervescent.

In any brash American type of movie, throwing the words Saddam, counterfeit notes and CIA in any permutation and combination constitutes a well though out plot. Hence, expect nothing from A Team in those respects. What scores here is the dialog and the way the team comes together.

Most of the action leaves you awed and laughing hysterically at the overtly macho and supremely awesome way they pull off successively crazy stunts.

The best thing ever was the flying tank sequence and the window cleaner free fall one. Considering we are all very jaded movie veterans, it still is fun to see a larger than life tank falling from the sky and firing ammo mid air.

Murdock spinning on rotor blades and singing "You spin my head right round" is one of the funnier scenes and the car in a 3D movie one is KILLER.

Man, I dont want to spoil this. Get over your instinctive disdain for all things big and American, leave a chunk of your hippocampus at home and A team is a fun deal :)

Phantoms in the brain

Way back when life was divided into 12 A and 12 B, bio v/s computers, girls v/s boys, whatever, I remember having the following conversation:

Certain dude (easily guessable if you know the more vocal elements of 12A) : Why Bio? Bio sucks!

Me: No it does not! It makes to sense to study your own fricking body.

CD: Yeah, but all that mugging, where does it gets you? Studying Bio is pointless.

Me: I'm hungry and I have to finish HP 7 again. Please go away.

Oh, thee of little faith! I wish I could shove Phantoms in the brain at this guy. It takes cool to a whole new level. If thoughts about the voices in your head, your other personality, Hugo the Mexican chef and The Zombie in your brain(an actual chapter header) keep you awake at night, this is the book mon. I kid thee not.

V.S Ramachandran is one of those charmingly brilliant types who sees the world in a more enlightened and curious ways. Through his work in neuroscience, we get to know all these little detail about how an immensely complex entity like our brain functions.

Shwetu, I owe you one for this.

On the frequently recurring and complex subject of Shwetu herself, a delayed HAPPY FRIGGIN BIRTHDAY man!!!!!!!!

YAY!!! Now we're both 21 and old.

That apart, I miss you. CBD is just plain old crap as usual.

And the Harry Potter theme park. Let's make up for every lost birthday of the past there. We have to do this!!!!!!! :)

To nowhere and back

Is an interesting journey for those who posses:

a) A lack of purpose

b) An active imagination (six impossible things before brekkie, that sort of thing)

c) Are perpetually dazed and confused

d) Have a car

No i mean really, a car just puts my entire fricking existence in perspective.

The rains finally decided to make their presence felt. I think they magnify everything you feel by a factor of 1000. Like spurts of mega happiness, then bits of melancholy( a bit of a standard thing on days as sepia orange as these) swerving through giant mini-lake sized puddles and having random songs rips your heart out.

This is what the monsoon does to me.

This was one of the best first days of the rains ever.

Mostly due to the fact that we got to drive around aimlessly while the rains lashed the roads into a frenzy. Then we chanced upon a lake and stopped to stare at sheets of water ripping on its surface. Add coffee to all of that, and we were as close to nirvana as one can get when one is 21 and languishing in New Bombay.

Suchi and Himanshu, muchas gracias amigos :) One hell of an awesome day.

Then there's the bit about Visa forms, Nine Lives, A Suitable Boy, Glee and my Origami crane. Another post dudes. Soon

That Girl.

I drew this girl ages ago. Got the image of Sharan's tumblr. Her dress was supposed to be red. But purple is what I felt like.

P.S: I shouldn't say it. Or even think it. But I will. Whattodo? Come back. Pretty please.

P.P.S :Man, I just keep internalising this blog so much :|

Will

There is this ancient sitcom called The fresh prince of Bel-Air which used to air on Zee Cafe way back when I was in class 8. The entire funny factor of this show can be attributed to the Awesomeness that is Will Smith. I mean, ever since then , I've been in a constant state of love with the guy.

He's funny, and he came up with Jiggy with it . Respect man. I think I loved him most in MIB and Shark Tale :)

Jay: Did you ever flashy-thing me?

Kay: No.
Jay: I ain't playing with you, K. Did you ever flashy-thing me?
Kay: No.

See what I mean?

What happens in Goa

Should stay in Goa :) Should!

Muchi and me came up with another one of our convoluted theories. Goa is our very own Desi Vegas. A place where people are expected to be remarkably drunk and blonde. When half of VNIT makes a beeline for the land of the excise free stuff, you can expect some monumental piles of crap to hit the fan.

The repercussions of 6 beers for 100 bucks are, needless to say , being felt horribly in college right now. Our temple, Facebook, is overloaded with 1,00,00,000 pictures of flabby people lounging in the sand and posing with flashy rented bikes. The rumours of hook ups and the unnecessary graphic detailing employed by the callous majority can turn a person off making out for life. In true VNIT style, the amount of bitching about the chuddy-buddy-friends-f0r-life that you travelled with could prolong the Gossip Girls series for the next 40 years.

I'll be nice and refrain from posting a lame pic. I have had it with Goa, a place I used to love, right down to its weirdly nice fishy smell.

Wait, I started this off as a nice post, where the tiny roads and coconut trees waving down from church steeples had their say. I was supposed to focus on the pancakes , the moonlight on the beach, karaoke and hot guys. Stupid, repressed, pissed off feelings. Goa used to mean eavesdropping on Konkani conversations, writing on the sand and eating doce. Now, I'm probably never going there.

If you do go, make sure its a SAS type of commando op, where the hoi-polloi are blissfully unaware and can be simply eliminated if they get annoying.

Game plan for next holiday: Karnataka.

This is it man. After years of having my dad going all sappy when it comes up, I think I'll give it a shot.

Its very Roots, but what the hell. Maybe someone there has my awful nose. The Goan bit of me is sulking.

Sunday

So I'm playing this game called Plants v/s Zombies. For the uninitiated, it is exactly what it claims to be. The Zombies want to feast on your brains and your trusty plants ensure they don't. That simple.

I like the sunflower most in this game. it's a smiley thing that waves about like a mass nursery rhyme recital by 3 year olds. It is well, very gay. As in the happy sort of gay. we lose a lot of words don't we?

I think I've set some ugly precedent for avoiding work/all responsibilities. I hate me :|

Muchi, where the effing hell are you mon?

Latest love and source of many sappy sighs and minor drooling is Rahul Bose. After seeing him as Mr. Iyer, life cannot be the same again. No man will ever measure up to him :|

Apart from these miserable occurrences, I've laid my hand son the Agatha Christie 1960's omnibus. It has a snazzy cover and brilliant writing. I feel massive doses of the usual awe.

Crap. I don't feel like writing anymore.

Recovering blogger,

Aggie

Sulky Butterflies

"When you're happy, you notice butterflies"

- Vivek Vattipalli

He's right. They keep fluttering about, but you really notice them only when you're tripping on some random happy thought.

Of which there aren't too many these days.

What sticks significantly in my craw is the college administration and its narrow minded bigoted existence. It takes 30,000 kinds of varied shit for you to wake up and see that things around you are extremely unfair, mightily annoying and very stifling for general human rights. I wish I was one of those people who knew exactly what to do and how to shake a few people sadly places in positions of authority. Sadly, this is not a movie and I don't have the benefit of a background score and stunning oratorical prowess.

Running away to Goa in a week. This is what last sems are for. Friends, tequila and beaches. let's admit it, things are only about to suck a lot more from this point onward.

In the meantime, I will shut my cynical little brain down. If you need a little radiance in life I suggest:

1. Suchi's blog.

2. Ginger tea

3. The men who stare at goats

4. David Sedaris

5. Cadbury Flakes :)

Lessons in humbility :)

Some words should be allowed into the fray I think. Humbility. Rolls off nicely :)

Also, lessons in How Not To Be A Narcissistic Bitch And Avoid Searches of Your Own Name Thus Saving Life From Being Scarred And Traumatic 101 by Professor Agnes Mendonca (duly shaken and much scarred herself )

You never know what you'll find lurking out there. Sigh

Jiggy-wiggy with you

Life changes in fucking seconds man.

Kshama's getting married this Saturday. Its okay if you don't know who she is. I dint either till about an hour ago.

Before:

So there I was. The molecules in my thighs were integrating themselves with the couch. The Stand by Stephen King was in my hands and life was a slow Thursday night.

30 minutes later, I was out of my ratty home duds gyrating onstage to, umm, well Jiggy-Wiggy.

Nobody tells me anything in this house. Things like Kshama's (who is very Awesome. And hot) getting married and that and her sangeet and mehendi party happens today. My dad and her's have major business plans in the offing, so there were increasingly frantic calls to make our presence felt at the event.

Mom and Jenny were AWOL, so my Dad's extensive emotional blackmailing skills were exercised on me.

My ass was hauled away from the couch. Semi-decent clothes flung out on the bed and in a daze, I was enveloped by girls in shiny salwars and led to dance.

After:

A stage, 50 glittering ladies(and a Marwari woman knows glitter. Every diamondy bit of it) and a video cameras.

I was nudged onstage by Kshama. Frantic pleas for help intensified when I realised I was expected to dance alone. Alone. With big strobe lights. On a stage . And a huge room full of people looking at me.

Awkward shuffling on stage. Silence. Pained silence.

Then the asshole DJ plays Jiggy-Wiggy with you.

What's there to say; most of you have seen me dance. I eliminated the slutty bits, reduced the butt gyrations a tad and danced away.

For the full frickin duration of the song. Aunties smiled, Kshama laughed and the DJ gaped.

And these guys know how to do a wedding. The colours!! The food!! The music.

Sensory overload.

Beep.

Life drags you by the hair, spins you around and leaves you feeling massively foolish and strangely happy. And spontaneity is so underrated.

I think I need Stephen King now. His wry, searing uncut wit should get this stupid Jiggy-Wiggy thing out of my mortified head.

Solitary mosquitoes :)

Happy Birthday Much-o!!!!

Yes.

The one with all that hair is finally legally there :)

As usual, there is an exam chasing her ass on the other side of 7th, but as if that is going to stop us from spending long hours doing nothing.

My offerings this year are slinky blue eyeliner and a gianormus card. Hope these should appease Her.

Fans of The Suchi may pay their homage in the comments section :)

A momentary lapse of reason

Im sick of this blog :|

Barf.

The Other Nihillist

" I wanna free fall out into nothing

Gonna leave this world for awhile

And I'm free.

Free falling"

- Tom Petty

Free Falling

My head is currently compartmentalising :)

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I love winter. Its clamminess and its smells. Its warm, flab-masking jackets. Hot coffee on a cold night. I love all of this to itty-bitty pieces.

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I liked Spirited Away. It was so dreamy. Like you accidentally stumbled into someone's life and then started living it. They should make movies like this and kill whoever made Ugly Truth.

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Cant write anymore. My mojo's gone. I stared at the words Statement of Purpose for multiple hours and came up with great shiny gobs of nothing. Why do they make us do things that are hopelessly irrelevant?

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I have a job now. This is a weird feeling. Someone heard me talk and then seemed eager to have me work with/for them. What? How? Huh?

Oh and the weird bit is that I feel coldly neutral.This changes not one tiny atom in my increasingly meandering sort of life.

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Not dealing with problems apparently does not make them go away. I'm appalled. My entire approach towards life is sadly flawed.

Its been that sort of week. You know, the kind when each day is staggeringly worse than the last. When invisible fingers are being flipped at you from the sky and your knees are about to grind themselves into nothingness after 6 hours kneeling in front of a topo glass and 4 flights in cramped seats.

I think nihilism might be the answer. None of this matters right now and the rest is all crap anyway. I think I get the Platypus of Doom on this one. Be careful what you wish for. On the off chance that you end up getting it and then wondering why the fuck was it so important in the first place.

Yeah so the week that was: a job interview, Muchi, three days without my phone, Muchi, 40,000 assignments(i swear im not kidding. Sadistic bastards), Muchi, drawing sheets, Muchi, applications,Muchi, mailing gianormus packages home,Muchi, worried mum, Muchi, cold fingers.

My free fall sort of approach to things sucks. I recommend it strongly if you to experience the mental equivalent of a vibrantly pink rock smashing your skull.

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Agnes Mendonca is in a relationship with Suchismita Mohapatra.

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