A bitter-sweet day and a promise

The 17th of May 2008, was a very special day for me, and I realized that as soon as I woke up to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, and observed that the curtains were all aglow with the eerie early morning sunlight. There is something to be said about this, because I normally (make that never) wake up on early mornings voluntarily. It was pure excitement which made me unable to slip into that state of passivity I enjoyed so much. Yes, that day was going to be special, and I had made arrangements to see to that.


That day was going to be bitter-sweet. I knew that because it was the day I would say my official ‘good-bye’ to my best friend in a very grand way, and it was the day we were going to watch a much-awaited movie. When my friend and my cousin came over, we hired an auto to MG road. The newest of the Chronicles of Narnia series, the movie Prince Caspian was out, after a month of eager anticipation. We were wild with excitement. The experience was ultimately rewarding, and we watched it with mouths agape, like the old times. It was still very early by the time the movie ended, and we decided to do something fun together.


There, in a coffee shop, sipping some Butterscotch Frappe’, we let the conversation carry us endlessly from one topic to another, shifting pace, drifting into one memory after another, and thoughts of how much we would miss each other in the days to come. And then, we made a promise, the kind teenagers these days never do. Deepti and I decided to become pen-friends.
It is true that we are markedly alike in our tastes, and our perspectives often collided with surprising similarity. That day, we swore to keep the promise alive. We believed in the joy of handwritten letters, of the warmth it bought to you…..because we had never experienced it. I, at least, never had a pen friend in my life, and the whole concept was new to me. I was tired of the adults reminiscing about the good old days of the handwritten letters. I still believed there were ways of bringing things back. We could reach each other easily on email or on orkut, but that wasen’t really the point. The point was that we were trying to experiment, to find out how beneficial writing was.
2 months after coming here I received my first letter from Deepti as promised, I experienced an inexplicable thrill. The day seemed suddenly more colourful. Oh, how lovely it was to find my name written on a brown envelope, which has arrived all the way from India! I now seemed to grasp the secret appeal of letters, and comprehended with perfect clarity why adults turn nostalgic about them.

But day by day, it is getting more difficult to keep that promise alive, since both the letters I wrote to deepti never reached her. And with the postal prices skyrocketing in India, I do feel a twinge of guilt for making her spend so much for me. But all I’d like to say is that we will maintain it as long as we can, because none of us are willing to let go.
Deepti wrote this for my upcoming birthday, when I’ll be turning 18:

“May you be happy throughout your life
May you keep love and joy always by your side,
May you experience the magic of being fully alive,
And may life’s best be always yours.”
And they are best birthday present I have received so far.

(Read Deepti’s response on http://deeptiraghuram.blogspot.com/2008/10/reply-to-friend.html)

Mr. Shenoy tagged me to fill out this questionnaire. So I’ve tried to be obedient and filled it up. Well, apart from that my CET—The Common Enterance test in this Saturday. Wish me luck!! Will return to blogging on Sunday, after the exam to tell you how I’ve done.

1. Last movie you saw in a theater?
A kannada movie, days before the exam……Gaalipatha. ( Met my friend in the crowd too, and she was baffled to see this English-lovin girl enjoying a Kannada movie.)

2. What book are you reading?
Trust me, you would faint. Currently, it’s a 905 page ‘Complete guide to Karnataka CET and comed-K—Mathematics.” See? You’re swooning already.

3. Favorite board game?
Sequence

4. Favorite magazine?
don’t oogle…but it’s been Tinkle since 7 years. 

5. Favorite smells?
Smell of wet earth, freshly mowed grass, petrol an kerosene, new books, the ‘office smell’….lots more, can’t remember.

6. Favorite sounds?
Bird calls, the light windy tune of the flute, Meloncholy notes on the Veena…

7. Worst feeling in the world?
Well, there are lots. People yelling that I’m not accepting responsibility, nor learnt to cook, or dress finely, a bad question paper, facing CET exams, the nerds callin up to remind that they are smarter than you, saying good-bye.

8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
Probably be thinking of all the fun my brother’s having with his friends when I’m to waste my time in front of textbooks.

9. Favorite fast food place?
None. Don’t like fast food. (Strange, I know!)

10. Future child’s name?
Haven’t thought about it.

11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….?”
Plant a thousand trees for Sapgreen.


12. Do you drive fast?
Yeah, if you blame me, I blame my age! 

13. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
I tried, but everytime I opened my eyes, I got scared by my own teddy bear.

14. Storms - cool or scary?
Cool

15. What was your first car?
I’m an unfortunate creature. Don’t own one yet.

16. Favorite drink?
Cane Juice with a hint of cool mint….an coffee.

17. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”?
Try to get my bro to fix the computer. The alphabet ‘d’ does not work and I’ve to painfully copy an paste it every time I type.

18. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
I just chew stuff up without thinking abt it. So, I don’t really know an answer to this one.

19. If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?
No, it would definitely not be pink. I would want my hair to look like Ahalya’s in Chak de though.

20. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in?
Mysore, Bangalore, Fremont (CA), Beaver dam (Wi)

21. Favorite sports to watch?
Badminton, College Basketball

22. One nice thing about the person who sent this to you?
To confess, I’m a huge fan of Mr. Shenoy. Would probably want an autograph in the future, after the media proclaims he’s the reincarnation of O Henry.

23. What’s under your bed?
Lots of things.

24. Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Wouldn’t mind, actually.

25. Morning person, or night owl?
definitely a night owl

26. Over easy, or sunny side up?
Sunny side up

27. Favorite place to relax?
The Balcony, an the bean bag

28. Favorite pie?
Apple

29. Favorite ice cream flavor?
Strawberry.

I tag deepti, Anushya, and Indrani.

I'm celebrating!

It’s the time of celebration for me. I’m celebrating my 50th post here, and look back to see it’s already been over an year of blogging experience. My blogs (well, most of them) have become an online version of my journal and I find the same amount of delight in rereading them as I do in reading my previous journals. I started blogging on the 26th of March, 2007. That was a long time ago, and I was thinking I would have completed a 100th blog by now. Well, I’m not sad it didn’t happen. I guess my priorities were different, and sometimes, bloggging took a backseat.

For a teenager who’s growing up so quickly, life shifts pace rapidly too. Lifestyles change—you are in school one moment, and then in college. And by the time you settle down, you are facing the board exams and the lecturers wave you off….then, there are new things to discover. Every day I grow up, every day, there is something new in my life. And my blog keeps reminding me of all the fun I had in second PU and the way I was thinking at that point of time. My brain tends to be volatile, sometimes immature, sometimes strangely vague and clouded, I cannot define it. My blogs help me to go back and see the way I am growing up as they mirror my thoughts.

For example, when someone wrote that I was trying to indulge in ‘shameless self-promotion’ on my blog, I really took it to heart and whole-heartedly agreed with that person without as much as analyzing myself. Now I think that was seriously immature of me. On account of my fiftieth post, I wish to spice up my blog with interesting features and welcome some constructive criticism. I was thinking of replacing the title with something more insightful and metaphoric (suggestions are welcome!) and even find a better template, if possible.

I'm Back!!!

After a prolonged hour waiting for the bus in the hot sun by the roadside, and practically ‘hanging’ from the only piece of metal I could safely grab unto before a bulky woman decided to smother me with her weight, almost suffocating in a crowded bus…..I still returned home with a smile. The reasons? There were plenty. I finished my exams yesterday, chit-chatted effortlessly with some of my closest pals doing full justice to what I call ‘talking’ (for the past few months it has been just a quiver of a nervous smile and a hopeful ‘All the Best’)…..and I suddenly realized I was free to blog again.

The past few days for me have been filled with drudgery and the monotony of continuous hours of studying. I was left with nothing to write about, to be honest, except perhaps a long list of exam dates, portions and countless unsystematic time-tables that no one would be interested in. The only ‘writing’ I did was in one prep exam after another, until I lost count. Creativity was buried in the sea of formulae, a list of doubts, confused muddle of diagrams and memorized words from Shivaraudrappa’s Bhimaaalapa. In my free time, I confess I tried my hand at writing something like a story, but my tensed up brain spun some meaningless sentences without a tail. Finally, I declined and decided to give it up as a bad job and settled to staring out of the window for comfort from the mundane hours of studying.

February is the time of the year to listen to a million advises, you know, when your relatives suddenly remember your existence. Many people share those great words of wisdom that I’m supposed to respect. Ask any relative and they give you grave hints for the perilous future ahead (‘the turning point in life’ ‘You are at the crucial phase’ ‘These fifteen days can change your life’ ‘Look at the previous year question papers, they are the key to tackling tough papers…’ ). Well, thank goodness that is over. I would like to put the exams behind me now, with the satisfaction that I have given it my best, and fill the next few blogs with pure holiday fun before it is time to worry for my CET. But the fact remains that I’m definitely back to blogging, folks! It’s time to sleep in, to relax on a bean bag with my favorite novels, and clean my room which has started resembling an unkempt garage these days….and blog also, because it’s so much fun!!!

I've been Tagged!

I remember as children, we used to play the game of tag. Run around in circles, the 'den' trying to catch you, while you desperately try to outrun him. Then, he runs up to you, slaps you in the back and says "Tag, you're it!"...all too familiar. But I did not know tagging has aqquired a different meaning on the net. You actually 'tag' friendly bloggers. I've been tagged, first time by Miss Latha Vidyaranya mam, and as per the rules, I have to state 8 things about myself. Usually, I never pay heed to those "Send this message to five people in five minutes or else you will suffer eternal misery until your death-day" sort of taunting mails and comments, but tagging is friendlier, and fun too, so I have decided to be a sport and quickly jot down 8 things about myself. I know dear readers, I am merely boring you with this. I already talked about myself on my birthday! Ah well...this is for Miss Latha mam then.

8 things about me: (which you did not know)
1) I am a person who likes to see the world as a pretty, happy place to live in, ignoring the viler parts because I find uncomfortable truths hard to digest.
2) I hate anything which is artificial--like artificial fruits in your pretty bamboo basket, or even those plastic flowers you bought home for 15 rupees.
3) I love frosty, cold, or chilly weather, preferably if it is a stormy day with heavy rains. Getting drenched in the rain and swimming are somethings I enjoy.
4) My balcony is one of my most favorite places in the world. It's the place where I study, read, or even reflect on life (don't blink your eyes)
5) I like walking, when I have the mood for it. Walking home from tution in the morning can sometimes seem frustrating, but sometimes, it's really fun.
6) I LOVE to eat things spicy. I always like spicy food, no matter the weather. I even eat the apples and the pomogranites with chilli powder. I love granny's pickles. I hate the unhealthy sweets and never eat too much.
7) I like meeting up with friends and cousins. I have this knack of mingling better with people who are younger than me when compared to my peers.
8) Ah yes...my favorite holiday spots happen to be visits to national parks, and not malls. I feel claustrophobic when I'm in a crowd, not at all comfortable. I hate public gatherings and avoid them.
So there you go...8 things about me. So I have kept a promise and been a sport then. I have to tag a person, now, I guess...isn;t that how it works? OK, then, I tag my friend Deepti then! 'Deepti, tag...you're it!"
And the rest of you, sigh in relief and wait for my upcoming blog next Sunday.

Just a simple thought

I don't know why I am attracted to traditional ideas and ancient thoughts. Ideas crop up in my head so suddenly, at the most unimaginable times, like an erupting volcano. So, when I'm studying Aldeyhydes, and I'm reading "Primary alchols under controlled oxidation in the presence of acidified potassium dichromate..." I stop in midsentence. Something fantastic is wriggling in my brain. I don't ignore it, I nourish the thought, and finally the wriggling worm of a faint idea aqquires meaning and dimension.

I hardly have anything to remember school by--my slam book does not count, many people could not sign it. This year, I have a bright idea, to make college days truly immortal in my memory. I want to design a memory quilt for myself. I know what you are thinking, you are probably shaking your head saying all this is 'old lady stuff'--some primitive craft confined to the hands of dim-witted housewives and circles of gossipmongers who simply have too much time to waste. Something like this might be a challenging and ambitious project for a teenager, and anyways, I'm in the "turning point" of my life (please don't repeat those words again. I UNDERSTAND i'm in the crucial phase). As quilting takes some time, I have strictly decided to begin only in the holidays after my CET exams. But the desire the thought itself has provoked is so strong, that I'm pretty sure I'll complete the quilt in a jiffy.

I have never told you the tale of the headless teddy. It was my first stitching project. I was learning to stitch from a cousin of mine, I was supposed to be stitching a teddy bear, but my first attempt yeilded disasterous results and I had to abandon my teddy bear, which reamined headless till the end. I have never touched a needle from then. Obviously, if I am to stitch something like a patchwork quilt for myself without any past expereince or prior knowledge, I need to research, and I have done it with keen interest.

Quilting is part of the great american tradition, and comes with quite a few stories and superstitions attached to it. For example, if you sew a hundred peice quilt without a single mistake in the seams, then that quilt will aqquire the magical ability to make anything you dream about under it come true. Don't worry, I'm not planning on a hundred square masterpeice--I was thinking of a simple 60 square patchwork. Here's how it will work--I'll get the fabric, and the permanent felt tip pens of all colours (ahem, quite a bit expensive there. I need to use flowery words of flattery with mom to make this work). I'll cut out the squares, and ask each friend to autograph it. Each peice that will become a part of my quilt will be charecteristically special, absolutely unique. That's because every individual is different, and everyone conveys their thoughts in writing in different forms.I'll then give some pratical meaning to all the lovingly scrawled words...I'll sew them together and sleep under them...won't that be lovely?

My quilt shall be a present I'll gift myself...something special of my creation. It, like ordinary gifts shall not collect dust behind glass showcases, or be stacked away in the attics, but shall be used to revive the best memories of college life, bring back, with vigour, the hundred faces of classmastes, when I unforgivably forget them. And slowly, with every stitch, I shall give a form to my college memories, the quilt shall be the greatest masterpeice of expression. All the memories will be sewn together to collectively narrate a story--reminding me of the countless times I've laughed this year. And yes, before going to sleep, the quilt shall give me ultimate comfort, envoloping me in a sixty wisphers of friendly 'good-nights'. I will probably go to sleep with a smile on my face, aware that my freinds are there, in written form on my memory quilt, keeping me warm though the night...but now, I need to allow my fantastic dream to melt, lock it away in my brain for a while, because I am expected to be studying organic chemisrty today. When I'm finished with the quilt, a few months down the line, you can expect a detailed account of it on my blog. So here I go again..." Primary alchols under contolled oxidation in the presence of acidified potassium dichormate..." and the wriggling worm of my idea is forced into the 'restricted thoughts' section of my brain.

A Different Diwali

This year’s Diwali was different for me. This year, I was given the responsibility of managing myself, I was given the choice to make this festival perfect or lousy, happy or grim for myself, because I was in control of everything. You see, my entire family complete with cousins and aunts packed their bags to tour Mumbai, leaving this girl behind, dwelling happily on their decision because the bookworm of the family is busy ‘studying’. My tution warmly gave us a special Diwali offer—‘special’ double maths classes! Charming, right? Honestly, I was not surprised, these ‘holiday specials’ keep happening in tution. Well, the classes too were fun, in a strange way to tell. I mean, we can’t be learning Integration anyway, because this time, on top of the rumble of the wretched Bangalore traffic, there were naughty kids all around bursting crackers like mad, making it all more difficult for the maths lecturer, and bless their souls, easier for us to accuse someone and tell the teacher, “We can’t hear a thing, sir!” (not like we would be listening if there was perfect silence anyway). And I was quickly updated on what’s stirring in the bollywood world when Uma mam was teaching Mechanical effect of electric current and also understood the entire storyline of Om Shanti Om and Saawariya, because a dear friend was kind enough to narrate them.

My Diwali was eco-friendly as always. On Friday morning, the wonderful kids down the road started burning crackers right from six in the morning so, the day started with a bang! And of course, a racing heart and a half-awake mind, which kept wondering why the house was not on fire. My Diwali shopping included books only (you needn’t remind me I am an unusual teenager)—I got a strange book called the ‘Power of your Subconscious Mind’, ‘A century old detective stories’ (They are REALLY outdated stories, I mean, after learning all about DNA fingerprinting, tandem repeats and genetic coding, tyring to find the murderer by studying facial expressions is really lame but the book came off real cheap at the bookfair at the Indian Institute of World Culture!) and O Henry’s short stories—I remember someone had suggested the book to me some time ago, so I pounced on it as soon as I caught sight of it!

One of my relatives arrived with her kids to celebrate Diwali with me, and share some yummy food. A cousin came from Pune to celebrate the festival and we stayed up way past bed-time playing Sequence, Bluff and Chowka-baara. Needless to say, in the next day’s tution classes, my head was lolling, thank goodness the teacher didn’t notice. I watched a lot of TV---I watched Chak De India which was on C-Bangalore, lounged a little reading my books, and visited my childhood friends, who live around the corner, and yet, are so absorbed in their lives that it is often difficult for them to recognize me. All four of us gathered in my friend Shravya’s house in a deliberate effort to rediscover a lost friendship, and ended up talking so much that it was eight in the night by the time I went home. We also visited the studios to get a nice photo clicked. My cousin’s sleeping over at my place every day, and has promised to bring in a nice CD to watch today. On Friday afternoon, we went to the hotel for lunch, and I chatted away happily without a care in the world, because, obviously, it was Revathi’s treat, and we really enjoyed the food and the chatter.

You will be happy to know that I am not forgetting my manners or etiquette. In spite of all the stuff going on, I am miraculously calm. I did not throw a tantrum when they said, “Lakshmi, you’re not coming to Mumbai”, I did not feel sad or hurt, I did not groan when the teacher curtly said “Double maths classes!” Instead, I’m making it a pretty happy Diwali for myself. Now that is a tough job, especially when you are in second PU and the teachers are intent on straining your brain cells to overwork. If you’re a teenager missing out on all the fun, even attending classes and special classes and tests on Sundays loosing temper is quite easy. You’ll be resembling a dog chained to the leash, howling in frustration. But Lakshmi Bharadwaj has control on her Spleen, I cannot be angry so easily. All signs of frustration were erased when I decided to enjoy my Diwali alone, no matter anything. No one should rob me of the right to celebrate, and no one did. And guess what? My Diwali was not spent solitarily, loads of people joined in to celebrate. Cousins, friends and real chums turned up. And I did have a blast, without burning a single cracker.

Well, the fact is, I missed my family a lot this Diwali, but this year’s Diwali was not about moping around, cursing my fate, or I-hate-missing-out-on-all-the-fun attitude. It was about meeting up with friends and cousins, eating, laughing, lighting up the festival of lights with a thousand smiles. And that, my friends, is warmer than the electrical lights we use to light up our homes.