Sushbis goes PINK. I promise that this will not stay too long, but long enough for my readers to say No. Does it look that bad? Whats sad is, I have not figured to get the whole palette of colours, if I did, I would have picked the jazzy pink.

Ei but see people, this PINK, does not speak as much as I do about me okay! And please, if you do not want to see random colours flash on my blog, help me hunt for a new tempy. I am tired of the minima black and blogger does not give me better tempys.

I have no clue why kids throw tantrums but I throw tantrums like a bratty kid only for the smile that receives my tantrums.

I know I know, I am a kid. A big one at that.

I have not received forwards through SMS in a very very long time. Either because I have blocked too many numbers on my phone (yes! I can do that, and I do not miss an opportunity ever. Bwahahaha), or the people who used to send forwards have grown up. But the probability that the latter is the reason is very low; when did forward-ers start growing up! Its very unlikely. Anyway. The point of this post is that I was subject to listening to some 17 forwards that my friend received in a row from a 11th standard student who had just got a phone and a chunk of duh-dumb forwards free with it I guess. Of those 17 forwards, I fell in love with one particular forward for its sheer duh-quotient. It read thus:

A promise, when all seasons will dry,
When all birds leave the sky,
When all friends say good bye,
You will find me there to say Hi!

My stomach got cramps after my long bout of laughter. Well, this was not the end. The little 11th standard boy also called after having sent all those forwards to know 'feedback'. Yes, he called and asked for a review. What did he really expect? 'Amazing poetic scheme machan' or 'super sense of humor da'! What!

I suppose he was vetti enough; just that forwarding comes easily to him as does blogging to me. May the lord introduce him to blogging, at least then he can't force his posts on people. But trust me some blogs I have come across are appalling. They go to extents of posting forwards received through mail on their blogs.

Kabhi khud pe
Kabhi khud pe kabhi halat pe rona aaya
Kabhi khud pe
Kabhi khud pe kabhi halat pe rona aaya
Baat nikali to har baat pe rona aaya
Baat nikali to har baat pe rona aaya
Hum to samjhe the ke hum bhul gayein hein unko
Hum to samjhe the ke hum bhul gayein hein unko
Kya hua aaj yeh kis baat pe rona aaya
Kya hua aaj yeh kis baat pe rona aaya
Kisliye jeete hein hum
Kisliye jeete hein hum
Kiske liye jeete hein

Barha aise sawalat pe rona aaya
Barhan aise sawalt pe rona aaya
Kabhi khud pe

Kaun rota hai kisi aur ke khatir Aie dost
Kaun rota hai kisi aur ke khatir Aie dost
Sabko apni hi kisi har baat pe rona aaya

Not a favourite of mine. Not my present state of mind. Not a song I ever want to think of ever. Still a song that chokes me. A tinge of reality. A few uncomfortable ideas an aam aadmi would identify with. Sabko apni hi kisi har baat pe rona aaya...

Forever.

Can fulfillment ever be felt as deeply as loss? Is joy ever as much celebrated as much as we mourn over our losses?
From experience, I do realise that maybe the period of anticipation of joy is a far more delightful phase than the joy itself. Of course not an over dosage of the anticipation bit. It does figure that yearning for happiness, or working towards this pursuit of happiness gives a certain kind of pleasure that nothing else can, not even the final result. The happiness we experience is more about the lack of it earlier than the fact that we have it now.

Queer I say. And three cheers to my 15by15 little baby that weighed just about seven hundred grams. My baby cake that I baked, funnily enough my gardener helped me much with it. I say he has his way with plants, manure, earth and batter alike. Three cheers to him too.

On this long road that I am walking, I have met a lot of people. Walked along with them for a while and then proceeded on my journey. Sometimes, I have also sat at the roadside tea shop and spoken to them at great lengths and have taken leave of them when it was time to go. But somewhere on this road of mine came along from nowhere a messiah of happiness. I have walked this road holding his hands since then. This road is not new to me, this road is something i paved for myself. A road that I want to walk. But this messiah, was a surprise of sorts. He appeared from nowhere and now when it is time to go, I realise that it is difficult to let go.

To let go of a hand that always said - it will be fine dear, this will pass too. A hand that showed me happiness; a hand that meant trust. A hand that said - I am always there.

I know I have to let go and walk the rest of the road myself, I know I can. And I know, when I meet him again, when our paths cross, nothing would have changed.

I fear that even before I can publish this post I would melt into a puddle of water.

Sigh, so this spiderman movie. I hear that he is undergoing quite a bad patch in life with relationship problems, professional rivalry, sandman and himself. Poor man, to elucidate that he has great responsibility, he just stepped into the shoes of a Hindustani Aam Aadmi.

And in our own Bollywood, Saif and Rani, pretend to their children to be participants of a reality show to live like hamara aam aadmi because they go bankrupt. This is what you call influence. Now when Raju and Ratna in some Pudupettai go bankrupt, they will tell their children Somu and Padma that they are featuring in Jaya TV's Subiksha Sponsored 'Poor House'. Gullible kids that they are also live the life of bankruptcy in hopes of becoming a Shilpa of the Poor House.

And as far as Metro is concerned, I would be glad if somebody could lend me a copy of Maximum City. And why does that freaky band with men with long scary hair keep popping up?? I hope to find a reason when I watch the movie.

That reminds me of - Aapkaa Surroor - The Moviee - A real luv story. I want to watch that movie too. Just that I know I can't survive it alone. I need company and my wife is long gone and is working hard. Though they are feeding her, she is not liking it. Can somebody just provide her with some sweet lime soda and veg macaroni. And me with a substitute wife. Ei, wifey, I hope you don't mind ya.

Small child. She is also working very hard I say. She I think should lead the anti-council this year. Go Green.

Tall thing. She is a famous girl. Not in our league I say.

This part of my life, I think I call it clarity.

I have tests to study for. I have finally succeeded in moving on in life. It feels so good to be able to smile with the knowledge that nothing, practically nothing, can actually erase that smile.

And yes, more importantly, I went all the way to IIT to drink water today. There I met my wife and her Juliet; I was accompanied by my very personal Juliet. And we then met, well, a person. No, thats being rude, then we met, my Juliet's Romeo. Yet, my life is not as complex as it sounds.

With online friend's communities on the rise, it is high time people use some discretion in making friends online too. Just as there are people we always knew existed and still never made friends with, I do think the same should be possible and far more easily online. Considering the people are more accessible, does not mean that random people can be even turned into acquaintances.

And why would somebody who I have never spoken to in real life within close proximity ever want to be my friend just because I am approachable now and taking it for granted that I can't be rude and reject requests. Well, the truth being I am rude. I will reject requests of people just like I do not make eye contact with them in real life.

It is this apparent feeling of a personal touch lacking in the virtual world, but I disagree, it is a mere continuation of the real world, so I still can maintain my online identity in tune with my real self. Still people find that chatting or orkutting is an easy way to maintain relationships, well such relationships are what one could say ill formed and ill defined relations. Its weird that X can say "HI" to me over a scrap than make eye contact in real life. So why should I, take any action on making X my friend??? Not like I would loose anything, but why. Making friends is not achieved through the cheap portals of friends communities.

And as to why I am still a member after having deleted my account thrice and actually attempting to loose my password; well, I found my hostel details for symbi on an Orkut Community! So much for networking.

So the month of April is over. And I just have another 27 days, in a place that has been my home for seventeen long years. This is the place where I grew up, grappled with failure, pranced around when I was happy. Madras exists in whatever that I am today as a person, the varied experiences the society gave me and a lot more that I can't go about listing.

Little memories that will never fade and I will carry with me where ever I go...

Schools - Balalok, Seetha Kingston, Chinmaya Vidhyalaya and PSBB... Schools have contributed a lot to what I am today.

College - M O P... It has given me a lot, beyond education. Friends, enemies, mass bunking, signature campaign... LOTS

Ispahani, Specially Sweet C - Its been liek home for three years, the yummy food, the waiters (who always respond to our grunting and hooting), the sad music and our table.

PTC Buses - For sheer cheap commutation.

Council - For hours of planning with no execution and also bitching. Bitching is bonding. Thank you Anna, I would not have taken up the post but for you.

Frankie Man - For good food during culturals.

Landmark - For all those books that I have read all my life. My lifeline.

Ramachandran Canteen - For all that "manjurian rice" and tomato juice I have survived on. And more recently the chocolate biscuits.

HOD - For sheer "upset-ness". She always believed that I was a bad girl.

Jambu Sir at Excellent Xerox - Without whom my broadsheet, Business Journal and Print Journal would have been impossible.

Isp Watchman - Who I did not know was concerned about me... He was pretty happy to see me visiting Isp even after college was over.

A few other people I would like to mention -

Anna - For being there. And hours on Gtalk, its so good that I will never miss you. I have too many memories with you, us five pointers!
Akx - My wife. The lou of my life, who gives me inspiration to be a rude person.
Kavya - The poem in my life. She though tried saying goodbye to me, it never lasted long. Poor her.
M - My driver. She knows my bike better than me. I am taking up a hosten in Symbi because I have nobody to drive me around there.
Aparna - Journal partner. Need I say more.
Divya, Nina and Lak- For insane Gtalk convos and chain mails.
Saumya - For being so clam always, showing me hope that peace can be found in the most chaotic situation.
Ram - :-)
Anjana and Smruthi - The rest of the quarters, life in college was fun thanks to you guys. Who needs an Insti roof? We get high on water.

Preserve Our Reticent Nymphet

Explore your sexual desires. Thats the one mantra women in India really need to work towards. Ina country such as India where the gender bias is so prominent that it makes any kind of egalitarianism potentially impotent. This could be one of the fundamental lapses of our society that makes the woman's sexual desires a taboo and a man's desire - pride.
And anyway, how safe is a woman when she does express such desires? The usual 'Knife falling on the fruit or fruit falling on the knife' theory applies here. As akx put it "if an unmarried man wanted to have sex, he'd turn to a prostitute; if a woman in a similar position wants to have sex, she'd have to turn to prostitution."
Does the society refuse to accept that women can get horny too? Are they just in denial? How often does one find gigolos as compared to prostitutes? How well accepted is the idea of unmarried or married women fulfilling their sexual desires by means of a gigolo?
If men have sexual fantasies, so do women. May equality prevail. Amen.

Muskaan is my little rose plant, gifted to me by The Gardener. She is a lot more than just a rose plant.
A symbol of life.
A listener.
A victim of society.
A survivor.

The first time I was gifted Muskaan V 1.0 (as much as I hate doing that, you will know why), I selected her from an array of roses at the nursery. She was standing tall with pride. Peach. I tended to her with much care but there came a time when I had to allow her beyond the confines of my home. And once she was a part of the nasty society we live in, she was manhandled. She lay helpless, lingering between life and death. Though we tried to restore her, in vain, she began to droop. Muskaan V 1.0.

It was then time for Muskaan V 2.0. She is special. She my baby. I do not know if she will blossom into a peach flower, red, pink, yellow; but when she does, she will be the most beautiful rose that will ever be. Muskaan V1.0 was more like an adoption, while Muskaan V 2.0 is in ways more than one my baby.

And, this time around I will be wary, a little more protective.