On writing

Writing, I have always believed is something which just comes, involuntarily- a paroxysm of thoughts spread out on a piece of paper or as is the case here, scattered as little black pixels on a white screen. Somewhat like a sneeze which you have no control over. It just comes, when it has to come, you know- Achhooooo! I like succumbing to its power. Writing is my catharsis and redemption. Even when it's complete nonsense or crappy, sentimental, overtly maudlin bullshit. It relaxes me, cheers me up and it lets me be. It offers me those rare moments when I am not saying or doing a thing just because i am supposed to. Even somewhat lacking and a little raw, it's satiating. It's encouraging to see a piece of my seldom used mind and relieving to not have to conform to the usual rules. It surprises me sometimes to go over old posts- to feel it all again through the eyes of a stranger. I write because i don't want to forget, because i want to know what i think and also because i want to be read. 

I have been terribly missing my writing demon for a lately,scared to think that i might have been exorcised of it for good. Thankfully, it's still here and i don't know why it didn't make an appearance all these days. Much happened in the past few months- including me graduating. I could have written about college getting over. But there was no point in writing about it really. College and i had a weird relationship and it has ended like an awkward break up.I would rather leave it as an unresolved chapter than take upon the cumbersome task of getting a closure. I could have written about not clearing the final round of getting into a college entirely different from mine. I could have written about my annoyance at everyone wanting to marry me off at twenty freaking two.I could have written about my month long ordeal at having to cook and clean while mum was away,about the panic of being responsibilities suddenly being thrust upon my shoulders, about the feeling of pride at being called immature. Conversations, arguments, encounters- amusing and great for reading. Was it because i didn't want to revisit these past months? Because I don't want to feel the way i had been feeling, again? Because i was sick of my narcissistic musings? Or may be it was something less dramatic like lethargy.Possibly. I hit the snooze button quite a few times and it's nice to be awake. It's nice to be able to write again.

Hateful things

The more things change the more they remain the same, the saying goes. More or less a cliche but its realization never ceases to surprise me nonetheless. So when today I stumbled upon "The Pillowbook", I found myself grinning. In the year 999, the same date today, a lady called Sei Shonagan was probably sitting in her bed too, scratching her notebook with a quill, recording her memoirs and observations. Complaining about this and that. I was really amused to read her list of "Hateful things" and was inspired to compose my own(hehe! it was fun)

Men peeing in public. It makes me wanna shut myself in my room forever and never get out at all. Not even when i run out of conditioner. It immediately fills me with disgust. I hate it. It's even worse than people digging their noses in public. YUCK YUCK YUCK!

Mosquitoes(this was in Sei's list too :-D). But really they still do come to me with their awfully pitched serenades only when I am about to sleep.....A millenium has passed. They are still despicable.

It's cold and I am in a warm quilt, reading a novel to beat all novels, completely engrossed in the story and then someone will have to knock on your door. I ignore them at first, but they will keep you knocking till I get out of that heavenly, warm quilt and well open the door....and then they want help in doing something really mundane. Abominable

I am in college, chilling with my friends and a guy passes by who I am not much acquainted with and then one of the friends start telling about how great and rich and pretty and open his girlfriend(who you know nothing about) is. That makes me want to roll my eyeballs off.

I am downstairs, I hear my phone ringing upstairs, I hurry upstairs and it turns out to be one of those "prerecorded" messages from your service provider. Instant hatred.

I am standing in a local train for a long time in a passage. Another lady boards at some station asks every passenger where they will get down and books a seat for herself. I am half irritated at myself for not doing the same thing.

People I am trying to avoid and who know this because I have made it obvious to the point of being rude finding ways to place themselves in my proximity, overhear your conversation with your group and butt in the conversation and talking to everyone in the group except me.

A visitor arriving just when my favorite show is about to start, sitting in the living room, not speaking much, staying only as long as the show would last and promptly leaving when the hour passes.

This happened a lot last year when after squandering almost the whole day I would finally sit down with the books and a dear friend would call making me squander further and on hanging up i would find my studying enthu all gone.

Wailing babies.....ah! they cease to be cute when they are screaming at the top of their lungs on a hot day in a jam packed local train.

Drunkards...they stand in the middle of the streets and they hurl abuses left right and centre. Ugly. Even those over smart dharti pe bojh guys who can't keep their mouth shut when a girl passes by for that matter. Uglier cause they are sober.

speaking of ugly....

Rakhi Sawant.

I guess I will keep adding more as they occur to me. Lol! And i used to think that i am not a person to nurse grudges.