Ok, let’s see…here are 25 things you probably didn’t know about me….
1. I hate the flavour Chocolate, I’d much rather pick vanilla or a fruity flavour.
So the next time u guys are buying my birthday cake, you know what Not to get!
2 My first love is not/was not and will never be a person. I’ve been in love with
dancing ever since I can remember…it’s my first love!
3 Most of you wouldn’t know this..as much as I may come across as a hip-hop
person..I’m actually a classical ballet dancer. I started ballet at the age of
seven and carried on for six years, but unfortunately I had to stop!
4. I had to stop dancing ballet because I broke my ankle playing football in school
in the ninth standard. That is the only reason I stopped ballet.
5. I always wanted to attend ABC, American Ballet Company and wanted to be a
professional ballet dancer.
6. You’d never guess unless you were from my school, that I was nominated for the
Head Girl position against one other girl…yeah I know...under all the party girl
image is a ‘serious’ girl.
7. For those who have sat in the passenger seat, you’re the witness…..I Love singing
loudly (along with the radio / c.d.) while I’m driving and sometimes do a little
step or jig with my hands…I’ve scandalized a policeman once when I was driving
and dancing.
8. I used to be a tom boy...when I was younger…I only wore loose pants and t-shirts,
beat up guys and never grew my hair!!!!.....I think that’s why mummy put me in
ballet.
9. I’ve had my heart broken pretty badly…so much so that I went overboard with the
over eating and put on 9 kg’s….been desperately trying to loose the weight since
then!
10. When I’m really pissed off….I CRY.
11. I love traveling….I want to see the world…mostly ‘third world’ countries as they
are called.
12. I’m a very sensitive person….I won’t show it but little things, words and
gestures can affect me like crazyyyy…
13. I put friends before family….and my mom pointed this out even when I didn’t
realize it…I tend to be there for friends who I love very much more than family…
I’m a peoples person…I hate not being around my friends…
14. I collect stickers…I have this insane sticker book…it has all the cartoon
characters, like tom and jerry, little mermaid…I pick up stickers whenever and
wherever I can.
15. I am very very patient, I can take things till it reaches the brim…but if u get
beyond that point….stay away from me…I’m a different person when I’m angry..
16. If I’m hurt…then I tend to disconnect from the world…I’ve lost many friends
because of this, but I still love them very much…they don’t understand that I
need the space and I’m usually scared to sort things out…so sometimes I just cut-
off…
17. I love surprises...the good kind...and i love art and craft..
18. I’m a football fan….Correction…Chelsea fan!!! .I used to play for school and
after school as well.
19. I love old hindi songs….and I know the lyrics to almost all old hindi songs…
20. My best year In college…was the first year of junior college in HR….when I met
amrita, harsh, ruksheen and gang and discovered freedom…and partying….!!
21. I’m a clean freak!...I hate seeing things dirty…ask any room mate…I have
actually cleaned the bathroom at a hotel on the Goa I.V…i also carry hand
santizer everywhere i go
22. I love outdoor sports…I enjoy trekking, rappelling, river crossing and mountain
climbing…as a kid I went to outdoor camps every summer. once i had to melt snow
to have a bath after four days at this one camp..
23. I survived the Tsunami…was in Sri Lanka when it happened…the hotel I was in sank
cause it was on a sand bar…and my family and 1 barely got out…
24. I have a huge phobia of the open sea…not being on the surface...but being in the
water and not seeing anything around but water….oh and I’m shit scared of moths
and butterflies…
25. my Pet name is Kitu...
SMILES....
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009
For Crying out loud
All the leaves fell on a winter’s day
The trees stopped swaying in the middle of May
The water turned brown
The lion don’t wear the crown
who noticed anyway?
The mountains look pale, with no green or white
The trees' felling and no snow in sight
The sun sees no shine on hay
but who noticed anyway?
The birds don’t sing in the silent spring
The waterfalls, gleam, forgot to bring
Nature’s joy isn’t here to resound
Mother Earths lament is a distant sound
who noticed anyway?
Who noticed anyway?-- Trisha Roy
It's a Choice
Life goes by as a blur, and you don’t realize till you stop to take a look around.
Most of us don’t have the time to stop and look around.
Look back, and see what we’re missing out on. All the memories we don’t have time to think about, all the memories we’re in a hurry to forget.
We run so fast that we leave everything behind, or we push things out of our way in a hurry to get to where we want to be. And the journey itself is lost.
How fast student life went by, it was like the blink of an eye.
Who won’t miss the carefree days? Who won’t want to walk up dingy stairs that smell like mould and sit in chairs that creak? Which one of us doesn’t want to run to the school bus again, to get home to watch cartoons?
How many of us regret not doing those things we could have done…those things we had the time to do…
Play in the mud, stroll in the rain, and aimlessly watch the sky on a starry night…
Do we not want to bunk lectures just one more time…photocopy projects and wit the professors? How much would we give to go back? All the days we had to find something to do to keep ourselves preoccupied…
How quickly they went by…gone like a flash…an entire fragment of our lives…just gone.
Grown up now…and so much to do…
work…work and work…
So much to do… and so much we choose not to do…
Walk in the park? Stroll in the rain? Play in the mud? Run for a bus again? Go home and watch cartoons?
Do we really have to miss out...do we have to miss it at all?
Life goes by in a blur and we don’t realize it till we stop to take a look at ourselves…
Most of us don’t have the time to stop and look around.
Look back, and see what we’re missing out on. All the memories we don’t have time to think about, all the memories we’re in a hurry to forget.
We run so fast that we leave everything behind, or we push things out of our way in a hurry to get to where we want to be. And the journey itself is lost.
How fast student life went by, it was like the blink of an eye.
Who won’t miss the carefree days? Who won’t want to walk up dingy stairs that smell like mould and sit in chairs that creak? Which one of us doesn’t want to run to the school bus again, to get home to watch cartoons?
How many of us regret not doing those things we could have done…those things we had the time to do…
Play in the mud, stroll in the rain, and aimlessly watch the sky on a starry night…
Do we not want to bunk lectures just one more time…photocopy projects and wit the professors? How much would we give to go back? All the days we had to find something to do to keep ourselves preoccupied…
How quickly they went by…gone like a flash…an entire fragment of our lives…just gone.
Grown up now…and so much to do…
work…work and work…
So much to do… and so much we choose not to do…
Walk in the park? Stroll in the rain? Play in the mud? Run for a bus again? Go home and watch cartoons?
Do we really have to miss out...do we have to miss it at all?
Life goes by in a blur and we don’t realize it till we stop to take a look at ourselves…
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Passing Fancy
Passing fancies was not something I was familiar with.
At first, I did not think that it was a besotted ness that wouldn’t last. Clearly my feelings ran deep. I could see.
Let me contradict myself at this point, sense (as always) comes much after the experience. Sometimes when one thing is clear, your focus on that one thing or person is so strong that, all other objects blur out in the background. My situation was a simile to this.
I saw ‘clearly’ what I was feeling and I liked what I was feeling. This, passing fancy, shall we call him, excited me. A kind of excitement I had not felt since my bruised heart had decided to shun away from feeling like….like this.
I was holding on to this feeling, holding on so hard that I barely realized what I was letting go off in the bargain. But I didn’t see it, blinded my new obsession.
Soon, I was not being my chatty self, my bubbliest of moods turning shy. I was more aware of every step, every strand of hair on my head, every word I uttered around my passing fancy.
Of course I was oblivious to how it did not matter one bit to anyone but me, I was being brutally ignored, looked over and frowned upon even.
However, I had no one to blame but myself. I was not being myself. I found it disturbingly difficult to talk, walk, and eat in the presence of his highness. Should it have been any surprise then, that I was being coined as ‘weird’?
I WAS behaving weird. Keeping in mind that this person I was turning into around my dearest fancy was nothing like the real me, I will proceed.
Day in and day out, the one thing on my fickle mind was how I was going to make him look at me, see me as ME, not this dumbfounded, fragile, sulky little introvert that I became when I was spoken to. But I could never muster the courage to be myself without becoming self conscious.
Does love do these things to you? Or do we exaggerate our fancy’s importance to such an extent that we tend to belittle ourselves?
Okay so it may not be love at all….then? Is it the looks?
…because if it is by looks that my behavior turned topsy, can you imagine what god like features passing fancies have?
As time went by and his looks or my love, (whichever it may be that appeals to your taste) increased in his favour, my effect on this fantastic fancy was just the opposite.
Ever seen ying-yang put together and thought: Poles brought together: black and white, no? Then, I’m sure that opinion would pop up if you saw me stand by my fancy. Let alone looks, I looked like Betty in front of Superman.
Clearly my complex was getting worse; I felt like nothing and yet admired everything of what I knew I could not have.
I THOUGHT I had it bad this time…
SENSE:
As all good things come to an end, this frenzy did too. Wonder why I called him ‘Passing Fancy’?
When sensibility slapped me around in the face a few times and my numb brain began to register pain. Only then did it occur to me that this wasn’t going anywhere.
How could I expect my fancy to fancy me, if it wasn’t ME at all?
I wouldn’t win over any hearts by not being myself. So I started all over again, with great restraint on my part not to be sucked in by his beauty, poise and everything else I did not have.
I was not familiar with passing fancies, and so I decided that this was something. There was something different about this fancy. The only way to cut out the PASSING from Passing Fancy was to be myself.
Not that it would necessarily work, he may not like the real me at all. Buy it’s worth a shot anyway…
At first, I did not think that it was a besotted ness that wouldn’t last. Clearly my feelings ran deep. I could see.
Let me contradict myself at this point, sense (as always) comes much after the experience. Sometimes when one thing is clear, your focus on that one thing or person is so strong that, all other objects blur out in the background. My situation was a simile to this.
I saw ‘clearly’ what I was feeling and I liked what I was feeling. This, passing fancy, shall we call him, excited me. A kind of excitement I had not felt since my bruised heart had decided to shun away from feeling like….like this.
I was holding on to this feeling, holding on so hard that I barely realized what I was letting go off in the bargain. But I didn’t see it, blinded my new obsession.
Soon, I was not being my chatty self, my bubbliest of moods turning shy. I was more aware of every step, every strand of hair on my head, every word I uttered around my passing fancy.
Of course I was oblivious to how it did not matter one bit to anyone but me, I was being brutally ignored, looked over and frowned upon even.
However, I had no one to blame but myself. I was not being myself. I found it disturbingly difficult to talk, walk, and eat in the presence of his highness. Should it have been any surprise then, that I was being coined as ‘weird’?
I WAS behaving weird. Keeping in mind that this person I was turning into around my dearest fancy was nothing like the real me, I will proceed.
Day in and day out, the one thing on my fickle mind was how I was going to make him look at me, see me as ME, not this dumbfounded, fragile, sulky little introvert that I became when I was spoken to. But I could never muster the courage to be myself without becoming self conscious.
Does love do these things to you? Or do we exaggerate our fancy’s importance to such an extent that we tend to belittle ourselves?
Okay so it may not be love at all….then? Is it the looks?
…because if it is by looks that my behavior turned topsy, can you imagine what god like features passing fancies have?
As time went by and his looks or my love, (whichever it may be that appeals to your taste) increased in his favour, my effect on this fantastic fancy was just the opposite.
Ever seen ying-yang put together and thought: Poles brought together: black and white, no? Then, I’m sure that opinion would pop up if you saw me stand by my fancy. Let alone looks, I looked like Betty in front of Superman.
Clearly my complex was getting worse; I felt like nothing and yet admired everything of what I knew I could not have.
I THOUGHT I had it bad this time…
SENSE:
As all good things come to an end, this frenzy did too. Wonder why I called him ‘Passing Fancy’?
When sensibility slapped me around in the face a few times and my numb brain began to register pain. Only then did it occur to me that this wasn’t going anywhere.
How could I expect my fancy to fancy me, if it wasn’t ME at all?
I wouldn’t win over any hearts by not being myself. So I started all over again, with great restraint on my part not to be sucked in by his beauty, poise and everything else I did not have.
I was not familiar with passing fancies, and so I decided that this was something. There was something different about this fancy. The only way to cut out the PASSING from Passing Fancy was to be myself.
Not that it would necessarily work, he may not like the real me at all. Buy it’s worth a shot anyway…
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