MACARONI RASCALS.

Yes, there's a TV series called Macaroni Rascals in Japan, and I've been ROFLing on it since about a week, now. Don't bother Youtubing it though, it sucks and it'll ruin the cool side of the name.
 Playing now, Traffic In The Sky.
 Anyhoo, still 3 more weeks to go for Boards to end. Had I been in my normal senses, the last line would have been in bold letters followed by a lot of colorful beeps, but the past month has left me CBSE saturated and it is safe to now say that I do not give a flying tush no more. I'm so bored and a miasma of Pissed Off won't leave me alone. Thus, I don't even feel like figuring whatever might I want to do once they're finally over. Turns out, Science kids are luckier. (Yes, I just said that. Sue me.)

So March was supposed to be the month that all Boards kids perpetually PMS in and cradle themselves to sleep at 5 in the morning after ten straight hours of caffeine abuse. Yeah, not so much. As horrible as it was supposed to be, March was quicker than I thought- I have to give it that. Abusing it every day might have accelerated the process, but March has had quite a few random breather visits over at Vanta and Guina's den. Guina's sister turned out to be the best baker in the world (Maxims can go suck it.)
Grand plans of Kerala were finally decided on, and thus we make our way to Rem's ancestral house in May =)

Playing now, Good People.
In other news, SILVER RATES ARE KILLING ME. The silver shop makes me stand outside and stare in wishfully like a sad child and it's pathetic. My birthday's tomorrow, buy me a ring, why don't you? Anyone? Eh? :(
Quit staring, oh pfffft.

A good number of drafts are piling up in ze dashboard, again. You would have probably stopped reading my blog had I updated with another heavy fiction post, so I spared you the horror. I'm so considerate and nice, it's not even funny. (Now refer to my question above. My birthday's tomorrow, really.)

Playing now, Rodeo Clowns.
Enough said, I have nothing more to say. (back track: Hallelujah.)
I've got to go now, I'm invited to this super oozum pool party tonight with electronic music. Thus, I go get ready now.

Lol JK, I'm going to go huddle in a corner and study facts that ain't getting no close to helping me with life skills, whatsoever. And stand up ovations for you lot, to have read through this bizarrely pointless post.
I would tell you how much I love you guys, but I sound like the nasal queen right now. (the whole concept of getting a cold when summer kicks in beats me.)

Guinz et I. Obviously we would have been happier boys.

 Okbyethanksforreadingyouguysi'llgonow.
-Nil.

P.s- Bleh. Next two posts shall be fiction. Don't tell me I didn't warn you, okay. I'm so nice, innit? Refer to my question again, it's my birthday tomorrow. OkThanksBye.

My humble land.

 My humble land.

I could captain my thoughts,
I could meditate reason within me,
I could forsake desire,
I was an arrogant sovereign.

My land was never troubled,
it stood with a pyramid chest.
It welcomed the outlandish,
but they remained guests, 
they never ripened to natives.

You were a banned immigrant,
you were banished from my land long ago.
I refused to be touched by your solicitude, your amour,
I refused to lose my land,
I refused to cleave along your sea,
the sea, you came from.

I lived on the plains,
your sea overwhelmed me.
The high tides were too ferocious to love,
the life on sand was evanescent.

The horizon of my land was simple,
not a grain of deceive sowed,
the sky was rational,
the sky that never promised the elusive.

And then you approached,
from that very horizon, the high tides behind you.
You flooded my land with chaos,
and strife hit between the natives of both lands.
Mine wished to remain untouched, safe-
yours dragged them by the fist,
to see the sun, to end the god fearing.

And suddenly I breathed in-
the dusts of the perturbed soil,
that spoke volumes of the riot of hearts you were guilty of-
my lashes abridged my blink,
and I looked up at the sky,
the sky which whirl pooled along the sea.

You had won over my land,
however my defeat was as welcomed as spring,
for you gave me a reason,
to once again kiss the handsome artistry of reasonless,
that set in with the adventure of your romance.

You had won over my land,
however my defeat was as welcomed as spring,
after all my land was a humble one,
why, my land was my heart.
____________________________________________________________

 The joy of poetry, after a while, oh yes.
-Nil.

Fleeting Tales.

I've been doing a series of Fleeting Tales when time wouldn't permit long luxurious hours of fiction and my creative drives would have to suffice with quick short stories of different places, people and times, drifting in and out of my Blogger drafts. They're supposed to be Reader Treats, for these are open ended, thus you can let your imagination go wild irrespective of what the author had in mind.
Here are a few... I promise longer tales once these wretched exams get over. Love!

____________________________________________________________________

  Coquettish melody.

She smoked some more just so that husk would would stay in her voice, for that perfect break when she hit the highest pitch followed by a loud thump and strum on her acoustic. Her brown braid always danced somewhere around her right shoulder, with strands of careless stray hair fluttering around her ears, her eyes.. A perpetual hint of pout on her oval face flirted with the perfect arches her brows made. Her uncared for skin radiated some warmth I say, it was uncanny. A constant (almost stubborn) reminder of beatitude, her songs.
I cannot fathom what was so perfect in her, when everything about her was wrong and raw. So wrong and so raw.

____________________________________________________________________

Castles in the air.

Our sky was overcast with the sun, and around me your face brought in shifts of colors; wild colors which made me roll over the grass, laugh and pant at the same time, while squeezing my eyes shut to the warm tears that would leave my eyes a non virgin to happiness. 

There was a lot of green, quiet and peace even among the concrete jungle around us, there was a lot of life. A whole lot brewing coffee, red wine every fortnight, toothsome romance and artless tomfoolery. 

Dry spells of hostility would anneal us for hasty limbering down of temper and sorry faces, for resistance in vain, for a slow broad smile that would follow. 

It was simple. It was kind. It was honorable. And perhaps, it was love. 

.......and then what do I expect of a Goodbye, when all the castles in the air still remind me of your animated reality, and my sweet denial.
____________________________________________________________________

Cooing touches.

The downpour seems to be intoxicated with bold hints of a question you haven't quite realized yet. The throbbing pulse fails to escape exhilaration when that familiar song competes with your senses and it gets harder and harder to keep up with your rationality, which was a pride to you. That pride however, seems to have extinguished in a matter of a single night; when facts turned into irony, when practicality seems laughable at the vivid fantasies your overwhelmed mind materializes, you can almost touch it.

You're in control of yourself, you're standing straight. But what would you not give, to let that guard off, and just act like the irresponsible voice that coos into you ear, quietly- the one you're turning a deaf ear to, the one that resonates in the void within you, winks at you, to give in.

The downpour seems to be intoxicated with bold hints of a question, you'd realized a long time ago. 
____________________________________________________________________

Fishes in his pocket.

I remember that one last day of summer, when Mother stood on the porch waiting for father's Chevy to skid into the drive way. Little Harry ran around the house with dead fishes from the pond in his shorts, I was waiting for mother to find out..
It was a hot day, but the evening seemed to set in an hour early.. Mother still stood on the porch, her pickle stained dress blowing harder with each circle of the windmill, back in the farm.

Harry slept with the fishes in his pocket, that night. And my mother wrote in her diary that night;
"The heart has the power to overrule any storm, but it also has the power to brew and blend stillness into a storm it conceives with no rhyme but too many reasons."

Little Harry didn't remember his father coming back, that night. He doesn't remember him at all, now.
____________________________________________________________________

Rickie don't lose that number. 

For a Tuesday, it was a rather busy night for the bar. For a Tuesday, there were too many drunk Johns and Janes around. Not that anybody was complaining, the band would mostly play to empty chairs during the week days. The bands with slots during the weekends considered themselves the Rolling Stones, to say the least.

So it was a welcome change when good ole Tony went to serve three punches and a Long Island at table number 6, and was quietly vouchsafed with a piece of paper by one of the robust Italian ladies. Poor Tony was too shot to pieces to open the folds, so he went and stood behind the bar with cold sweat breaking all over him. The manager hit him on the head, and he dived for the next table to order, he was waiting for the night to end, for table number 6 to vacate- and so it did, when the ladies (somehow) made their way out of the bar, delicious perfume and hiccups lingering behind them. 

For a Tuesday, it was too many coincidences for the little bar- when Tony finally did open the folds and read the untidy numbers scribbled, the band played on encore the perfect number for the night ; 

"Rickie don't lose that number, it's the only one you want... you might use it if you feel better, when you get home... Rickie don't lose that number..."

____________________________________________________________________

Awaiting feedback, as always!
-Nil.

LOVE that makes me LOL.

This is going to be one hell of an abrupt post and I tried delaying it being typed for as long as I could. But there's a particular thought that's been skirting around my mind for about a year now, and lately it's been rather persistent.

I'm not in a relationship. I'm happily single and have been a little too edgy about space issues since a while. So consider this an innocent question from a curious mind, and nothing else.

The world is full of people who are in relationships/commitments. Most of them claim to be in love and seem to quite enjoy everything there is to the mush, the concerns, the fights, their differences and similarities. Which is all fantastic, works and looks absolutely purrrfact to me.

But THEN, enter the specie of (*most of the) relationships I've been coming across ever since my head figured being unbiased. 

No giving/taking space.  (I can almost hear Sheldon go; "THE HORROR")

Most of the relationships I've been seeing around are of people my age, I admit. Thus such acts of immaturity are only natural, and one is expected to mature out of them as one grows up, right? But that doesn't help when I realize that I've also seen people much elder to me be in relationships and I hate to say this, they seemed pretty much the same :|  (Mental retardation, ladies and gentlemen?)

So here's my (sightseeing) experience after closely observing a few species of awesome relationships turned into absolute bird poop ones : 

So they are in/claim to love a person and all that. That's kick ass. They have their initial honeymoon period of 6 months-ish where everything she/he says makes the other flutter around like a (pink) bird (caaam on, a butterfly would make anybody cringe. Birds are chill.), they are more concerned about each other's health than their own doctor who they haven't bothered seeing since dinosaurs existed, they want to spend (almost) all their time together, they are both at their best behavior and compliment each other like they've been paid to do so, go out for dates complimented by gifts that become the proof of their eternal and perennially flowing lowe, and basically they become a big fat part of each other's existence (the kind of 'fat' SUMO wrestlers are. With their big butts that stick out and thus are humanly impossible to ignore.)

But THEN, the honeymoon period ends. They slowly unravel the careless sides of themselves, the arguments get harder to forget, insecurity/possessiveness nudges them in the ribs (each blow getting harder by the day, mind you), suddenly a habit that was cute turns into a mild irritant and then to downright annoying, and for the three cherries on the cake- all his/her faults and cracks that were (apparently) accepted by him/her with open arms need to now change, they take each other for granted like peanut butter and jelly, AND their separate spaces becomes the same. And with those ladies and gentlemen, sticks out the middle finger at your idea of your puurrrfaact boyfriend/girlfriend. In your face, lowerboy/lowergirl.

Now I wouldn't want to get into what happens further cause that just becomes ugly (you do not want to know. Rather I wouldn't want to remember, since I hope to be in a relationship and "find love" at some point of time.) 

So here's what. All I see now with certain couples who I thought were god sent :--

I see them criticizing each other (bickering like old couples who don't get any), avoiding fights because they're not bothered enough anymore (which sucks, by the way. Fighting like cats and dogs is beyond awesome. However when you decide to lay low and let the wind blow, you should know your relationship is going downhill and is worse off than a break failed car) , I see them talking to each other like they have dog collars of each other's names on them, I see them deciding what to/not to wear according to the other person (and they don't enjoy doing so,beeteedubs), I see them hanging/ not hanging out with people because of their better halves (which slowwwly kick starts the quota of regrets), I see them shrinking everything that they were and their potentials into a tiny little world inside themselves which revolves around the other person. 

They choose have to talk/ text/ meet the other person instead of sitting out in the sun and reading alone, or catching up with their friends who seem like strangers now, or listening to that one favorite playlist that used to be on loop once upon a time. 

They stop doing their own thing, you know? There is no "Me time" or a time when they don't have their stupid blinking phone around just to make sure they don't miss his/her call/text cause that would lead to a hundred questions later.

And thus my head screams at such exemplary lovebugs:
WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? (apart from you turning into a blithering idiot.)

Whatever happened to your ideas, your choice of clothes/people/food/shows/hobbies? 

Why do his/her opinions matter so much? Rather, why do only his/ her opinions matter so much that yours learnt to take a pass? 

You're obviously taking the "two bodies one person" scene literally. 

If you don't even stand for what you were so perfectly for so many years of your life before this bugger came along, how is a relationship a thrill then? 

And also, this is definitely not love, bro. 

So that's that. I don't even see the point of this post, but the conclusion is that I'm really, really confused (and bored). Lately I've been seeing so many people act the exact way I described above that it's creeping the daylights out of me. Certain friends who were such vibrant individuals before act like teenage husbands and wives. 

Don't people need space anymore? Rather, have people forgotten to ask the other person to back off after a point and let them breathe in their own territory? Is 'compromising' the new synonym for forgetting yourself altogether and living somebody else's time table? 

But of course, I've also seen a bunch of couples who're pro at being magic together. Some of them being on blogger itself ;)  I've seen certain people who honestly make all the compromises, fights and stuff so worth it and pretty much improve themselves for the better, not transform themselves. I've seen certain couples who make me envy their level of compatibility, their ageless romance and perpetual spontaneous spunk that never dies!

But sadly enough, I haven't seen enough of them. Mostly all I see is the horror I've pointlessly ranted on about. Perhaps I wouldn't have even written about it had a particular incident precisely 36 hours back not triggered it.

So that brings me back to the same question (I've honestly forgotten, but I'll ask one anyway),

what the hell is going on with such people, boss? And is all what I wrote about really a part of a normal relationship or are we talking about wannabe ships which never really set sail and imagine themselves to be the on-shore Titanic? (#RealityCheck) Most importantly, WHERE is the love? :O

And I have no idea just why would I even bother with typing so much on something so pointless at this point of time. (I'm obviously highly jobless)  Blame it on the Boards. :/

Bleh. I'm going to go get ice cream.
Dear world, go fight/make love/kill each other/win the Nobel prize.

I'm going to go get ice cream ^_^

-Random,much (you know you luuurrvve meh.)

Nil. =)

....of Tuesdays, dubstep, and god-sent comrades.

Greetings, Tuesday People!
The day started with a royal ditch by most precious fraaand and was saved by Economics and absol-uuu-tely sick dubstep tracks.
To elaborate- So yesterday my beloved Remya called and we decided all of us ladies were going to die in some sly corner of the house if we didn't get out and get some air. She sent me very attractive texts like "My sputum is going berserk" just to make sure we bunch of faithful friends show up at her doorstep to initiate the thrills of life in her world of blown up tonsils. The plan was set, but of course, it was our education hungry south indian friend Remya Raj who thought it was fine to keep the window open all night and let in the (chilly) breeze. In her world it was also considered very clever to pull an all nighter till 5 am while you're sick already. So then she called up drunk on illness to cancel her tag along (the call that wasn't remembered by her 4 hours later.)
Anyhow, so Guina and I went trotting to Vanta's den anyway. I had plans of going to the nearby Tuesday market and shoot some portraits, but then I realized that I was a very lazy human being and Vanta's house was a little too cozy in general. SO, I shot those buggers instead. No proper shoot though, fooling around.

annoying-ly pretty friends with braids

annoying-ly retarded and happy FTW.

when Bihar meets South India and tries to copy West Bengal.

I had vowed to come back and drown myself into mighty education. National Income was almost crying out to me. But then enter Robin. Who by the way got his first shave done and looks like he hit puberty all over again (I'm sorry Rob, I told you I'd do this to you. See? You're important to me :D Nyhahahaha. )
So apart from him walking around all conscious and awkward about his face which apparently feels all light and airy it was the usual routine of good ole chai in the back lanes of Market 1. Life almost felt normal again, and the tiny existence of Boards was almost out of my mind until he started nagging like a little girl that he had to get back home -.-
Baah. Either way, today was a good day! In terms of academic hours, not so much. But yeah, I was reminded of fresh air existing beyond my little tiny corner in my little room with my not-so-little books  =)
So anyhoo, now that your ears are about to fall off, my mission in life is accomplished and I will now go and (seriously) indulge in mighty education.

They said money didn't matter. And then came in Economics. And then came in National Income, Like A Boss.

-Nil.

Blog turns 4!

Ye-p, homiez. This little spastic safe haven of mine started exactly four years back when I was a bored kid who typed everything in short-hand and went frog eyes at a friend who enlightened me on the idea of a blog. (Sandy, if you're reading this in the middle of your godforsaken nerd-clad engineering happiness, this shout's for ya ^.^)

So I've never acknowledged my blog's birthday before. The thought never seemed all that awesome. I was busy. And I was lazy. Really, really lazy. But now that I'm in the middle of my Boards and education in general makes me flinch, I thought it was about time I gave this little awesomeness in the cyber world some importance and credit. Yes, my love. I wouldn't have been able to become the unsound happy child that I am, without your dashboard entertaining my rants and fiction. Most definitely would not have ever shared even a fraction of the fiction pieces with the world, had you not bugged me with the 'Publish' button and spammed my mail with the comment notifications that slowly grew in numbers. I wouldn't have bothered ranting about life in general had I not realized that total strangers around the world were actually listening. I remember starting with one follower, and reaching to a 207 and still counting. So here's my cue to the next part, my loyal listeners- Thank you. 

You guys have been amazing, and it blows my mind off when I realize how many of you have become regular pen pals/ facebook/ phone friends despite the fact that you guys are in some other side of the city/country/world.

Yes. You guys shrunk the concept of  the 'world' for me, and your constant encouragements/ critiques have made me want to mooove my bum and write some  

So yah. I've always wanted to honestly and very sincerely thank you lovely stalkers of mine, each one of you are fabulous, just so fabulous!

And with this, Nil's Blog (Take it with a quick martini) turns four! 

Free martinis for you lot right here! (and once you guys realize there's none, H-I-T---T-H-E---B-A-R )

And now, I shall go and feel all maternal about how my blog grew up so quick and is a big boy/ girl  BLOG now! 

Because such is life, take it with a quick martini.

-Nil.