Here I Am

Gotta write, wanna write, havta write!

beetlejuice357 — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 05:35:30 +0000

Now? But I’m sleepy. Tomorrow morning, after a hot cuppa bru, articulation might just be at its best.

Dammit, gotta write, wanna write and HAVE to write!

Promises are meant to be broken

beetlejuice357 — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 02:03:27 +0000

I’ve been playing around with the title on this one for quite a while now. I don’t know why but to me, I need to have a good title to my posts for me to actually continue writing. And usually when inspiration to write strikes, it does in the form of a title. That said, the reason why I think this one is apt is pretty obvious I guess, if you read the previous post. I had decided to break my silence on this page and had taken a solemn oath to write everyday. But I failed. Pretty miserably considering I did it just once In my defense, my laptop crashed and I did not have internet for more than 2 weeks after that. And well, sanctity of promises apart, walking down to the library to write a post when I haven’t stepped in there to borrow a book in a long while is a little…over. I assure you my conscience is successfully punctured (not just pricked).

So, things have been busy. Studies are tough, days just fly by. I live homework-to-homework, class-t0-class. Exam week just went by and I’m definitely not too happy with the way I’ve done. There were things I’ve not dealt with earlier and the fact that my background is totally different doesn’t help. I’m trying hard not to do the retrospective introspection that would only add a little lime and chilli powder to that punctured spot I mentioned earlier. I chose to be here for my own reasons and I must live with it. I think it’s something to be proud of if you can actually take a decision that most people are against (including yourself) and stick by it. Unfortunately the cribber in me would be proud yet crib

I had a good good summer in terms of activity. I got my weight down significantly which is something I’ve been battling for a while. Training for a half marathon (that I never completed – both the training and the run itself) got me running quite a bit. Maybe not too fast, maybe not the entire distance but I did get up to doing 6miles and am quite proud of that. For someone who couldn’t jog for a whole 2 minutes, that’s quite an achievement. And all those muscles were an added bonus At the expense of sounding vain, I must tell you I spent quite a bit of time admiring myself and my newly acquired muscles. BUT, and how I hate these buts, the start of school kind of put a stop to my I-can-run-from-USA-to-India-if-I-want dreams. I now sit on this one spot on my bed, sprawled as I am, laptop in hand and books, calculator and other paraphernalia around me. How I crave physical activity – the high it gives to complete a run! I’m hoping for some semblance of a schedule to arise soon (I know I need to work on it).

Anyway, I’ve got nothing much to say now. Not that what I’ve written till now made sense but yet Until next!

Day 0

beetlejuice357 — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 04:03:02 +0000

Aaaah! I could do with a Cleopatra-range copper tub full of goat’s milk and rose petals type of bath right now! I’m learning the art of independence and god, it’s tough stuff! For someone who’s been protected silly by a super protective, tad-bit chauvinistic yet awesomeness personified Dad all her life, lifting carton, furniture etc and loading them into trucks is no mean task. That is something I’m definitely thankful to the U.S of A for. I’ve kind of become a self sufficient person – emotionally and monetarily. And ofcourse in ‘ household’ matters too – cooking, cleaning etc etc. Infact, you know what I think? Hyper Indian Moms should most certainly send their ‘of marriageable-age daughters’ here a year before the D-Day. All that responsibility thingie will be taken care of. The downside, though, is that we women will become a little too independent and wouldn’t need men then Anyway, been a productive day. I realize if not for anything else, I have an excellent career opportunity as ‘domestic help’ considering the basin is almost mirror-like right now

Until tomorrow

One a day?

beetlejuice357 — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 01:21:03 +0000

Ok, so I haven’t written in close to a million years. 45 million to be exact. If you’re going huh? Well, I have no ida why I have an obsession with the number 45, I seem to use it when I use numbers to exaggerate.Ok, digression.Oh, actually not, I wasn’t talking about anything specific. Anyway, my current state of mind is kinda grey, or is it blue? Maybe greyish blue then because not only am I mellow but I’m constantly in a state of confusion etc etc. I really wanna resort to writing to purge my soul. I know I just killed the remaining 2 readers I had with my declaration of participation in the sob-story competition. But well, like I said, I really need this. And so, as random as I may sound, I’m going to write everyday! (ok, please shut the door as you leave, thank you).

See you everyday!

I miss you baby

beetlejuice357 — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 06:19:19 +0000

February 29th 2004: Me, Dad, Dolly and Mom walked into Adam’s pet clinic, Adambakkam, responding to an ad in the local daily. We heard scuffing in the corner and spotted two tiny fur balls going at a newspaper like it was a piece of bone. In a couple of minutes, there were bits of paper strewn all over and 2 very contended, panting babies. As we moved closer, the tinier of the 2 came rolling to us, jumping furiously at our heel. Dolly picked it up and suddenly a tiny pink tongue came sticking out and licked her on her nose. We were taken. We took the little Lhasa Apso to Dad and said we’ve found the one. He wasn’t too happy because he felt it was too cute to be a guard dog and was very particular we get a German Shepherd. And so, dejectedly, we handed over the cuteness to the attender there and went back for the other pup. She was in the same corner where we spotted her first, playing with the scraps of paper. She heard us and hid behind a stool and peered at us with scared yet inquisitive eyes. Dad whistled lightly to call her out but she refused to budge. She cowered slightly and we noticed her legs were trembling. It was such a heart-wrenching sight. I went closer and slowly, tenderly carried her into my arms. We don’t know why, but the first thing that struck me and Dolly on seeing her was “Chintu” (and the name stuck, a misnomer that). Her heart was beating so fast that we had to constantly coo to let her calm down. With that, she was ours. After 20 long years of me being the youngest, we finally had a new baby in our house.

Ever since then, our daily talks with anyone and everyone would be peppered with Chintu’s antics. For the 6 years that she was with us, we spoke about her everyday, like every little thing meant everything to us. No matter if she did the same things each day, we would talk about it with the same enthusiasm because it meant so much. We admired every move she made – the way she would flop down by our feet and listen to our talks, the way she would rub her eyes when my mom would tell her “kanna thodachuko” (wipe your eyes), the crazy stalker looks she would give every peanut that would drop from our hands, oh I could go on. She was, simply put, not just the apple – but the whole damn fruit salad of our lives, with the cherry on top.

She was a kind girl – with a docile personality, unlike others of her kind. She sat mutely through baths, didn’t as much as whimper for her injections and never complained even when she was in pain. She wasn’t friendly with other dogs really, but she was quite the human magnet. Being vegetarian, she was a lot tinier than the average adult German Shepherd, and was often mistaken for a pup. I’ve seen her laugh and I’ve seen her cry. She’s comforted me when I’ve cried and gone crazy with anxiety when my mom wasn’t well one day. She was our agony aunt, our comedy show and our stress buster all rolled in one.

We still cannot believe that the little girl is no longer with us. That fateful Halloween day of 2010 when God decided he needed her up there to show the other doggies how it is to be a good girl and ofcourse, increase the cuteness quotient up there a notch. I miss her – every time a mutt runs towards me on the roads here, the memory avalanche sets in. I’m even silly enough to believe that every friendly dog I meet is my Chintu, sending her message from up there that she loves me still. It takes a whole lot of effort not to focus on the sad parts because, honestly, I can’t get myself to accept it. It hurts so bloody much just to go over that day’s events and I really,really don’t want to remember her the way she was that day.

We miss you Chinnu. Truly, madly, deeply. We wish you were here with us, like we took for granted you always will. We never imagined you would go so soon, leaving us bereft. Actually, we never imagined you would go at all. You were like the, what do I say, proverbial brick in the wall, that would always be around. We were stupid enough to never imagine life without you, maybe it would have prepared us better? I don’t know. All I do know is we love you silly. Come back now, will you?