Dear Blogger,

I think Blogger is the easiest way to really see what and who you've turned into from what you were. It's the easiest way of forgetting people you met here and meeting people you never knew.
I have been blogging for the last seven years. That's a big number for me because youth often underestimates the potentiality of big numbers. The concept of 'long run' is often not so long and sometimes arrogantly short sighted.

In the last seven years of blogging, I remember deleting just one post in 2009. Apart from that, whatever I wrote was as good as set on stone because irrespective of the horrible grammar and the strange SMS language that was a fad once, I had no regrets about the person I used to be. In fact, it used to be amusing and at some level comforting. I was a good kid, and I think I managed to grow into a decent-ish human being. But a few days back I did delete a whole lot of posts from the oldest of chests on this blog (2008). I reverted them back to drafts; not because I was embarrassed by what a ridiculously hyper, unabashedly emotional teenager I was. I deleted those posts because I couldn't relate to them anymore. Perhaps sudden minutes of retrospect dab figments of epiphanies in you. Perhaps it was like that one fine day you wake up and decide to quit your job because you forgot why you started working in the first place.
It just had to be done.

You see, back when I wrote them, Blogger was an entirely different world. My list of Followers and Followings were this intimate circle where we trusted absolute strangers with our potent feelings about everything. Back then it was 'milestones' like the first day of my higher secondary schooling, or the longest spell of crush on a boy. For others it was family, work, and much bigger milestones. Some of these people became the kinds of friends who till date keep in touch and genuinely matter. I remember being the baby of the blogger circle.
It was absolutely beautiful how a bunch of URLs could mean so much to people who perhaps lived in different cities/ countries and yet knew overwhelmingly enough about each other.

But eventually over the years, everyone got busy. People moved. People moved on, too. A lot of the blogs I used to religiously follow are now not accessible anymore because they've either turned private or the last time they were updated was two or three years back.
I sure do miss those guys. They were good people and I hope they're all in good health.

I've had years like 2011 when I'd write so often that drafts over drafts piled on my dashboard, waiting to be published. I've had years like 2013 where I had so much to write that words failed me, and all I could manage was crawl up to 13 posts in a year. I've zoned out and zoned in, I've had painful spells of writers block and even worse spells of sheer laziness. But I kept coming back here. Because somehow I knew that somebody would be listening. And if it was a lucky day, somebody would be waiting.

 I have to admit, Blogger still surprises me. In waves of blue moons, once in a while I see old blogger friends leave a comment on a post when I least expect it. Even today, I bump into wonderful blogs of people I want to know better because their words make a lot of sense, they hit home. I'm thankful for such people sustaining the art and the need of writing. Some times I come so close to deleting this blog, but I think I've seen myself and others grow too much in this space to give it all away. Like I said, seven years is a big number for me.

So to all of you who are still writing, to all of you who stopped writing, and most importantly to all of you who never stopped reading- this is a sincere white flag for all of you, to let you know that our boat is still sailing and the ocean still looks just as beautiful. The air is thick with salt, but the words don't fail to come out in sneezes. :)

Cheers, Blogger. You've been a good listener.

All my loving,
Nil. 

Flame fleeced.

History.
The one word that brings back ruthless, bold, unabashed flashbacks of you. And him. Or her. Or whoever. You must have loved, or you must have thought you loved. All of us do, all of us love the idea of falling in love. So getting back to the point; History.
We're often so sure about the concept of it being the past, that we often forget; once we see it staring at us in the present. You see that one face, and there, you find yourself thinking of what was. How you were, how this person staring back at you used to be, with you. You give yourself the liberty to feel appalled at how that face is the same, and yet nothing about it reminds you of the person it belongs to. Perhaps a crease or two more, on the forehead. Maybe some more impatience in them pair of eyes, than you remember. The lips could possibly be more dry, and the ears could seem naked because there isn't any hair sitting on them, hiding away their shapelessness.
And yet, you push your grounds by still considering that your faith on that face may be stronger than its appearance.

But as you blink a few more times and don't let the light leaks of your ridiculous faith blind you, you slowly realize that the face that once moved you so much is gone. The flame that burnt high and low, quivered on top but kept still to the wax...is gone. There's nothing that overwhelms you about that face anymore, there is nothing that makes you want to cry. The expression in your heart is smug. It wants to walk away, and carry on with the life you finally moved on with, in the absence of that face.
You feel like you're sitting on the other side of the window, and the only way you look at the other side is through an old, lace curtain. It flies around with the wind, letting you peek at the real thing once in a while, but it's hidden again, and it stays that way. And you realize, it's not hidden anymore, it's gone.

Flame fleeced. The remains of that blaze are nowhere to be seen around you, for they withered away with that side of you which became history, along with that person's departure in your life, once.

You realize, you slowly fell out of love. Because beyond a point, that face didn't love you back, and you couldn't love thin air, could you now? 

-Nil.

Fragile.

"Fragile." 
Your suitcase is going to have that sticker when you're at the airport, right? I want to be that sticker. I want to be a part of that suitcase that you packed from home, that has that book you kept asking me for but ended up buying instead, that has the orange shirt that has the cologne on from last night's farewell, that has the black bow tie I always wanted to see you in, and the little black diary of yours that's tucked away into a chain.

I want to be a part of that box of home that you're carrying to a new land. I want to sit next to you when you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for your flight to take off. You've been waiting too long to escape this place, haven't you? The ticket in your breast pocket was the one shot you needed, it turned out to be the one shot you finally got.
I want to be standing right there when you step out of the aircraft and see the new city for the first time, when your mind has no curfews and you're all set to run... I want to start running with you.
I want to be sitting across the table, when you have your first breakfast away from the round table with a red and white checkered table cloth back home.
I want to see you quietly put a letter you received a day back at the bed side drawer, I want to see you read it, again. I want to be the last full stop, on that letter.

I want to be each and every stamp on your passport. I want to be every single crinkled bus ticket that stays in the pockets of your jean. I want to count your change while you tip off the waiter at the cult cafes around the world, I want to share the binoculars you see through to see the horizon complementing your new terrace. I want to be the coin you toss in your first wishing well in Europe and I want to be the chop sticks you use so proficiently for Sushi.

I want to feel your pulse as each and every second becomes an experience.

However, I see the ends of your trousers flapping through the gust of air that comes in while you board the plane, and your suitcase goes away with you, while the Fragile sticker stays on with me.

-Nil.

(P.s- I promise and update post, next. I'll spare you the perpetual after-midnight- Fiction OD.)

Where do you go when you're lonely?

Do you walk on that one street with restaurants on the right, glowing a gorgeous warm yellow and buzzing with the clutter clatter of cutlery? 
Do you feel a little comforted when you see people from those big glass windows dining and toasting to company? 
Do you quickly hold on to the cap on your head, feeling the warmth of the wool and wait for it to breathe out cold air, just like you? Or do you blow out that very cold air into the chilly evening and pretend for it to be smoke, just so you're not alone, just so your mouth is in touch with something, if not words. 

Or do you switch on that old sitcom while it starts snowing outside and you're too scared to look at the white outside, to remember last winter..  
I've noticed how you never put out the Christmas cards on she shelf anymore. Don't they make you feel more at home? Don't they remind you of home? 

Where do you go when you're lonely? 
I've seen you get nervous even when your shadow follows.  
Do you go to the town's carnival, buy yourself cotton candy and eat it while your eyes descend to London's big eye and the time you took a tourist friend on it? Or the one time you had your first kiss in one of the cabins in it? 
Do you remember your old high school corridor? You never felt lonely when you walked on it, did you. 
More so, because you were too busy driving away her blues every morning. 
You often wonder about her.. She still wishes you went to college together, in the same city. Even though it's been so many years to those times.. But  yes, you both still do think of each other. You hope so.. 

I've seen you walk into one of the big games with a single ticket too, at times. I've seen you keep quiet while the whole stadium went wild. 
I've seen you sitting in movie theaters, half listening to the dialogues and half smiling over youthful shenanigans in the theaters back home, with her. 

Doesn't everything about this new city remind you of those times? 
Every street is different from the ones back home, and yet you can see the same things happen at every corner, at every cafe, every colorful door on the white walls. 
She loved colors, didn't she? She also loved long walks... long walks, with you.  

So where do you go when you're lonely?
Somewhere.. where you hope she follows you?
Haven't you both... just been following each other all this while, sweetheart?  
______________________________________________________________________________

The inspiration to this post :

So yeah, I promised some fiction... Sorry about the abstractness of this piece but aah well, Rem sent me this version of When Stars Go Blue, and I just wrote ahead with a smile. It's alright if you felt a little lost... This post was a little cuckoo in the head, and even more in the heart :) Much loving, Nil. 

Somewhere back in time.

It was that one moment when we sat under what Keats would call a bower quiet. Alive and yet so still midst the canopy of sunlight that turned warm; welcoming in a lucid moment that was a part of a picture, that was meant to be. You and I, while we sat in stillness; the earth rotated just fine along with time that was fluid out and around that moment we were captured in. I let lose, my head fell back and there was not a single leaf I could trace above that blocked the sky and separated us from the gigantic blue. The layer of green became a gorgeous portrait of blissful in-distinctiveness. Every sharp end became an unfocused circle, and the bokeh played a game of changing colors and depth... yes, it was conjuring in a world where a wizard is a myth and sorcery a hoax.
The frenzy my eyelashes caught when I looked at your face was a loud heartbeat that I didn't dare skip; that heartbeat echoes and thuds within my memory, still. You were a beautiful boy with a hue of sepia around your silhouette, and browner eyes that tasted black chocolate every time they blinked.

...then slowly and gracefully, I let in a familiar emotion from a different time residing in a forbidden memory. 
An emotion that was meant to be. 
An emotion that was that one day, which was that one moment, somewhere back in time. 

-Nil. 

The best of all 17 birthday cakes.

Remya traveled across the city at 10 in the night, almost got duped and reached my house catching me off guard with dinner in my hand just so she could be there at midnight to wish me birthday. She just appeared, out of nowhere, with her typical retarded bright grin screaming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! HAPPY BIRTHDAYY!! HAPPPYYY BIIRRTHHDDAYY!!" and waking up the whole house of fourteen people from their slumber of work on a usual day. My mother followed in clapping her hands laughing aloud with her and then my father followed while the whole house floated in grins, delight, and laughter.. THAT was why my parents would kick me out of my own room every time Remya called in the past week, it was a Midnight surprise that she planned with my parents. I was too stunned to react, I stood there with chicken in my hand and mouth wide open. And after about 3 minutes of a billion "What the...." moments repeated in my head, I gained control and gave her a h-u-g-e hug. I was ecstatic.. And then she gifts me one of the best presents I've received in all the 17 years of my life- A black and white photo of us, where she was whispering something into my ear and it said- "To my sweetest Cara... For you, a thousand times over." - After which I was too emotional to say anything and kept repeating "Are you serious?" ..I cut the cake at 12am with my family, and sneaked upstairs to my room with Rem by 12:30. She stayed the night over. We had a sweet slumber party with giggles and heart to hearts, of sleepy photo shoots and laughs.
Calls and texts flowed in, the randomest to the most expected people wishing me. A teacher remembered, a teacher who I hadn't been in touch with for a looong while.. Rob sneaked out upstairs just so he could call :P
Then Debo Da asked me to check Facebook, and I see his profile photo as a photo of us,again. Which said, "HAPPY BUDDAYY TO THE LITTAALL ONNEE!". And there, added a cherry to my cake.

His and Niru Di's surprise (tickets to Blue Mug!!!) followed the next day, which flipped me over yet again. You two are just adoraaabbllee. No wait, LEGGEENNDDHHAARRYY!!! ;)

Then the next day- School. Hugs. Wishes. Cards. Treats. Bunks. RAIN. Random singing of "Happy Birthday" in the middle of the corridor, courtesy- Rem,Vantz,Guinz,Reddy,Raya,Chatur, and just random people joining in and making me melt in the middle of somewhere..

Then, back home. Huuuuggeee party scheduled at 6pm. A party themed the 60's! I was dead nervous about how things would turn up, dad was unwell, people started coming in and the music wasn't ready. The huge sunflower that was supposed to be stuck to my head wasn't working out. My brothers worked like dogs, managed the music, Remya came in, and asked me to chill. And the sunflower..eventually got around to it :P
By Seven, everybody moved to the terrace, and surprisingly enough everybody had done a bloody darn good job at looking Retro! My cousin sister was in Del too, so she kicked up some dresses with us too! The girls looked gorgeous and the guys were absolutely handsome! So finally the party kick started, food, games,DANCE! It was crazy when Rob enters with his bomb. He hands me his gift, I open it, and I see a charcoal sketch of me... yes, he sketched ME. And that was what he was hiding in his room,locked since what? a week I guess. My mouth was struck open for the second time and finally when I did compose myself, all he did was shrug and smile,followed by a biggggggg hug.. Even now when I think about it I get the chills. It's gorgeous, and.. I don't think anyone's ever bothered sketching me,before. So yeah. I reached cloud Nine. Also, the Khandelwal sisters got me another divine frame of pictures that I'd wanted since time immemorial! They've always been pros at them - "Making birthday frames since 1994" ;)
All the gifts were gorgeous, most of the gifts were emotional. SO very emotional. And exotic (Vantz and Shiiiv ;) and a lottt of literature and nose studs :P (Stuti,Joy,Neha,Sheks,Chiks), diaries <3 (Kanishka), perfumes (Chatur), Chocolates! (Mantaaah), etc etc, the list goes on!
..............We all danced into the night. I danced with my favorite ladies on the most cheap 60's songs ever! And the awkward boys who took so much effort to dress up eventually came around to dancing their butts off too! :P
The birthday cake was cut, with the birthday song, followed by my ladies singing me out patent song "Sweetie" :-P
Then,I was blindfolded and was taken downstairs to discover a huge Projection screen set up. Everyone was giggling and I had NO idea whatever was up.. And then, started a slide show. A slideshow that my sister made for my birthday, starting from pictures right when we were kids to now when we were grown ups.. and that's it, I couldn't stop, I burst into tears! After what seemed like eons of hugging and sniffing, we all went back upstairs carrying on with dinner and dessert.. Some more dancing,some more talking.. and slowly people started hugging me goodbyes.
And then started another few hours of Family Partying with lovely dinner and post-birthday photos :P
.....and then once the party was over and I was back in my shorts, I get a call from Milda to come down. The party never really stops when she's around now does it? :)


And so, after what seemed like another few decades of things I don't even remember, I hit the bed. Content. Happy. And High.
High to best birthday ever, to those 17 friends who made it with a lot of difficulties just to be there on my day, to my family who worked so very hard to just see me smile like a child and to just someone out there, who's been watching me all along.
Here's to the best birthday cake of all the 17 crazy, wild,insane years and still counting!

This is to all of you, All of you who wished,who were there,and those who wished to be.... cheers :)

There were too many pictures and they'd take up ages to upload on Blogger, so here's all of us. Together :)

-A 17 year old-Nil :}

Monsoons.

After a long long time, I smiled the moment I stepped out of my place in the evening. The weather almost seemed to be laughing with nice cool winds blowing here and there. The sky seemed to be in a blanket of a silvery of clouds shading the earth beneath it. And making people realize that monsoons are on it's way.

Hi guys, I know I know it's been ages and centuries since I last updated.  But I haven't really had the time. School's a rush with competitions and friends. I like it tonnes! Like, it's almost like I'm finally doing what I wanted to. My teachers for his grade are pretty good.. And well, I like my class :)

So back to where I was, MONSOONS  are coming! If you don't know already, they're my favorite part of the year. As cliched as it sounds, I'm crazy about the rains! The downpour and the sounds of the pitter-patter on the window.. Everything gets lush green, and there's a different smell of freshness all over the city! And  I see kids wearing raincoats in the morning looking all excited, dirtying their newly polished shoes in the crack of the day. The wide smiles that those lil kindergarten kids give with their tiny selves all wet, their hair sitting flatly on their foreheads and their eyes expressing awe and wonder on an apparent phenomenon that "he up there" did. And that very faith makes them shut their eyes tightly at night with folded hands praying hard for all the oh so important things around them :
"Please keep mommy and daddy happy"
"Please please please make mommy buy me the red car that the thin boy in my class has"
"Please god, tell mommy not to make me eat broccoli in the morning :( " 
"God please keep everybody happy and oooh I want a pink barbie dress for Christmas! Tell Santa please okay god?! Good night God :) "

This faith ^ is monsoons.. The fact that after a dry, drab time of sweat, the sun, the heat, or the sheet of winters... The heaven right up above the zenith shall give us our little play time  in between the on going classes of Life. 

And during this play time, we forget our wrinkles, our medicines, our home work, our PPT  presentations....... And dance around in this game of faith, blessing each drop making it's way from the clouds and kissing us smiles and happiness.. 
:)

Happy On-the-way-Monsoons, all of you guys!

- Much love,

Nil. 

To let go?

The school gate closed behind me.
It was the last day,I'd ever wear a uniform and have the green gate to welcome me. Remya stood in front,anxious and prepared for a sudden breakdown. Alijah was consciously kidding around, trying to ease the tension of warring thoughts in everybody. Kartavya,trying his best, to look away and smile every time a tear threatened to escape.
I stood there,looking at the abnormal chatter, the curse-less jokes, the nervous laughs from Charu and Shreyansha, the forced laughs and pats, as a fresh layer of tears blinded my horizon.
I blinked it away, turned back and stared at the gate. The Guard gave me a smile, he liked me as a kid.
My report card,bent in the pressure of my fingers, and the tiny form in it- My immigration form. 

Those flashbacks of Remya and I dreaming of Hollywood and Beverly Hills, and of anywhere abroad... Kids that we were... those countless number of times when we wished a life away from the roofs of India, and those careless jokes about going away.
All the words and conversations started buzzing in my ear, my eyes couldn't focus and my body-a vegetable.
Monica caught me just as I was about to slip, I shock back to the world around me; "I'm fine." 
I said,as my friends rushed towards me.

My parents were waiting in the other side of the road in  the car. My bags packed. Our bags packed.

"You gonna be fine babe?" Remya asked, fear reflected her glassy eyes.
"Yeap."


Was this really happening? Was I leaving for good? After 15 years of these guys, do I leave all this behind, and embrace a new place,a new nationality? What am I without these people? What am I without the laughter,the jokes,the love,the empathy,the honesty and being of these people?
Was this worth it?

My father honked.
Kartavya started crying. Right in front of me; "You don't know what you're doing man. You don't"
I didn't. And I said that to him.


I looked at these friends,one last time. I tried to see through,and feel the love and warmth that each one of them emitted for me. But I knew I wasn't strong enough to cater the needs of my heart by a memory of the eyes of each.
I knew,I wasn't strong enough to let these guys know,that I'd miss them and cry bitterly for them. I wasn't strong enough to let these guys know,that I was leaving for good, and this was the last time we were standing together- ever. Life would do us apart the minute I sat on the plane.
Cause I knew,that I wasn't strong enough to start a new beginning with memories from the past that'd tear my heart  in and out to go back to those moments,and freeze in them forever.

I sat in the car,
and looked back with endless cold tears on my face,looking at these bunch of people who bid me goodbye. Who loved me,even though I had decided to be blind,deaf and dumb to that love from now on.

When I landed on the Berlin airport,
I smsd Remya ; "There's no way,I'm letting go off you guys. See you next summer,babe."


----------------------------
When people give you love unconditionally and never ask for you to return it, your heart rests in peace only after that love is returned and held on to,for the rest of your life.
Letting go,isn't that easy. And at times,no matter how ardent the thought is, you figure that the weakness in you becomes the strength to hold on, forever, and ever in life....

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~********************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************

DISCLAIMER: I am very well here,very much in India. This post is purely fictitious. Real names of my friends just helped me feel myself in those imaginary shoes :)

Boards.

Tomorrow, I sit for the all India, CBSE class Xth Board examination.
Sounds big, by the way I say it right? Seems big,too. I'm nervous. When I go through last year's Board paper,I'm like "WTF!? No wait..this is..haan,this is easy, BUT.." . Where as,that same paper, a week back gave me a reaction that was "Wtf! I'm topping!".

So. Today morning,I get up. Late. At around 11. A friend's missed call,I call back.
"Whatsup? you called?"
"Yeah,had to ask you something about consumer rights man.."
"Yeap,spill?"
"Naah,I'm good. I'm done"
"Awesome. Later,then"
"Are you done?"
"Yeah"
"Like,with everything?"
"Yeah..I guess." [Slowly uncomfortable]
"Did you do sample papers from Ulike???"
"Have I ever done sample papers for Sst man?"
"Uh,okay?"
"Why? What's so great? Was there anything important?" [Disguised panic]
"Yeah,I mean...."
"Whatever,I didn't do them. I'm fine."
"Uh..oh..kayy..."

I hang up.
That 15 lined conversation was all it took to screw me  up. In and out.
I opened my book. Do I remember anything?  Vaguely.
Where was the iron and steel plant that sounded like an actor?
Salem.
And....What stuff would I like to rub on Shiv Senanian's faces?
Lignite.
Hmmmm.... What was land reclamation?
Reclaiming of marshy,waste land..for cultivation, settlements, and other purposes.. I'd like to cuddle up and die in that marshy land,be invisible till 31st March.


Deep breathing. Mom enters. Sees my face. Brother enters, sits next to me and goes:
"You do realize you look like you'v been punched while shitting?"
I nod.

We both crack into mad laughter.

Yeap. I'm going to be fine. Like a very dear one said:
" Few years down the line,when you sit in that seat as an economist and sign books, nobody's going to give a flying #$@* about a 90% or a 40% in your boards.. It's not the end of it. Just believe in yourself,and keep climbing those stairs like a stubborn kid who refuses to let go!"


To allll of you guys,who texted/called/mailed-- Thankyou. 
You guys have truly made my day blissful-I know you care. And I love you guys for it.
Ramit and Sulagana: I love you both. Thankyou! You two have encouraged me like my guardians! Mwah!
And to all of you blogger sweethearts, thanks for your wishes :)

And to my fellow Boarders, All the best!
Lets kick some asses! B-]

A blissful celebration :)

Hi.

I'm sorry haven't updated in a while,but it's been busy. So, today I got my admit card for the Boards.. I might sound absolutely crazy when I say this,but to a normal student this day should be a doom day? If not more. Cause getting the Admit Card gives you the green signal to enter an alien school,sit in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable bench and write an exam that is one of the most valued-through out your life.

But somehow,my neurons didn't seem to register that. They royally ignored the fact that this coming exam would be like crossing a mile stone in my life, or that there are people out there waiting for me to do well..None of that. Instead,I felt happy.

[This is the part where you trigger the gun]

My class teacher--the very one I hate- made me sign the documents and gave me my admit card along with the Apeejay Badge. She stuffed in curd and a sweet into my mouth and recited the same dialogue that she recited to all the other 47 kids- "Do well haa beta? You'll do very well!" and then she added a "Keep up with the writing,haa,Nilanjana!" to me. 

I knew she was waiting to get into her car,get home and take a nice hot bath. And that she didn't care a damn to what I wrote,and yet, I smiled. I liked what she said. 

[This is the part where you shoot me.]

So after that,I went to the staff room,to get some Astronomy stuff from a teacher who apparently went maniacal looking for me through out [In my friend,Suvriti's lingo]. And when I went, there were teachers who called me and wished me luck, and 2 of the Bengali teachers looked like they'd kiss me if they could to wish me luck. Remya's mom was a sweetheart,to me. Even the man-looking lady teacher [New lady,I have no clue who she is] wished me luck with a hearty smile and a half hug.

And Thennnn,came one of the people who I actually bother school for- Suman Anand ma'am. 

If you're new to my blog,let me tell you that she is the teacher who discovered my writing in lesson answers and spelling punishments. You can read her contributions in my life by reading  this and then this  .

Few weeks back I had given her a poem to read.. So today,she starts with; "You know Nilanjana...At times I wonder,how some people can just reflect so much about their thoughts and the depth of the world at such a tender age..." and then another kind teacher,Mrs.Amita Jaisingh  said "She really does have a powerful flair of writing you know!" and then the two teachers started appreciating my poem with me melting in blushes. But you know guys,no matter how funny and embarrassing these things might be,today once again I've realized that I truly am blessed to have known such teachers in my life,who're silent most of the times,but speak up when you need encouragement the most. Suman Anand ma'am hugged me,and said; "no matter what you do,where you go,or where I am,I need you to keep in touch with me and keep writing...Keep writing because you're gifted and I might not be here next year,but keep in touch to let me read your writing!"

I feel blessed yous. I truly,truly feel blessed. 

Today,I celebrate my bliss and my gratitude to all those teachers and yes,my school which has helped me acquire heights that I could only dream off. These teachers have made me dream,realize,and execute.

Here's to you, Suman ma'am.

:)

With the pencil,you have not only taught me a subject...You've taught me love,compassion,music,art,the world,and myslef. Love to you,ma'am.

All my love

-The girl who had a terrible handwriting and made spelling mistakes :P

A pathetically usual Christmas eve =)

Believe me,this is an absolutely good for nothing post. So here goes :) ---

So maybe after a good 4 months,I got a lonely evening to myself where I did nothing but nothing :D

Starting from a lazy, long lunch with dad...

and then Yes,I watched Juno, did an excellent job at becoming totally emo about teenagers and going preggers.

Sigh

Then what? I was mourning mentally on the emotions of being a mother,due to which I actually put myself into some use in the house, trying to help my mother-- However resulting to be kicked out and sent to m room to go to hell.

"Who are you trying to kid?"

And then I threw the duster and went back to my ole buddy Laptop! xD

Yes,

Then about an hour and a half on the internet, searching the most pathetic videos on Youtube [ Pigs Flying ] and annoying people on Facebook.

Then, Ms.Mrinalini Abot decides to call me and then accusing me of the bill she gets. I give her a whole lecture explaining what an ass of a retard she is calling me from her school practices and that staying over friend's for 14 whole days just proves the fact that she needs help.

I pity over her mother,and promise to send her sweets via international links someday when I'm rich. Mrill attacks me of being "A rotten cherry" - which thunders my laughter for bang 15 minutes.

Finally I say "Fuck off sweetness,go study some Geography" and hang up, and the woman calls back accusing me of the bad weather which apparently got her hair soggy. .

*Laughs to herself*

And then people call Me Random and stupid.

So,that conversation really lit up my day, and I'm glad she called.

I love you my hotstuff :P Mwahahah! I'm so proud that you can be weirder than me :D

However,don't think you're in the league just cause of a petty convo of weird and abstractness. I'm unbeatable,and you're filthy incompetent in the field of Weirdness =D

^Kidding love! .... Not. x)

After all these personified alarms of Mental Help, my parents decide to go for the Family Christmas Eve outing to CP. Which suited me just fine,untilll I stepped outside.

My eyebrows froze, and I remembered the fight I had with mum about a sweatshirt being pathetically insufficient for a day like today and that I was a Problem Child.

:|

O,Shit.

My thought process was interrupted by the irritating nudging of my good for nothing brother who handed me my sweater.[The Dorkiest one,but the Good-for-nothing statement above boo's at me now]--Not good >:

So anyway, we went to CP,did the usual rituals we do every year- Drove around the inner and outer circles,burgers at Mc.Donalds, my inevitable shopping and my parents natural nagging :)

So yeah,it was just like the other years.

So,all in all,i had a nice evening :) Although CP was not crowded this time,which sorta ruins the charm, but whatever,i had a nice time :)

What about you guys?

What didja lot do Christmad eve?

Clear skies and Santas to y'all! ;)

Jingle Bells,

-Nil.

[P.S-- Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of ye fellows out there!!]

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Santa laugh,however lame :|

;)

Words.

This post is dedicated to all those posts of you all which have made me think and realize more and more with every day passing and every blog update that a feeling can be reborn by words and a feeling can be burnt by words.. I have always passioned writing. Today,when I look back in time,I don't think I would have ever had the confidence to pen down my thoughts and scribble them in untidy handwriting and still having the courage to show it to my freinds/teachers and feeling confident about my ideas and innovations.

Poetry was always a bigger corner of my heart.. However,with time,I realized that wiritng stories have their own charm.. To morph myself in the alphabets of those lines and verses is a satisfaction in disguise to somehow know,I'm writing reality.



I'm in an extremely emotional mood right now,and hence maybe I feel so strongly about a casual post my friend Remya wrote. I have always considered her feelings deep and respected her thoughts on paper, but that post- however so causual and honest-lift me off my feet. I couldn't believe how the words captured my mind,and how it took me back the time line and reminded me of every minute expression during that particular conversation. The humor,the sarcasm,the wittiness,the melancholy-everything.I was in awe. People say "awe" is used for beauty, but indeed the beautiful way how she captured that episode of history left me in awe.
Kudos to you,friend.I'm so proud of you. You make me procrastinate on topics which require justice and hours,just the right amount. As a retard friend- Haha, but indeed you make me proud.

I would also like to thank my English Teacher; Mrs.Suman Anand without who I would have never smiled at my horizon and realized the extent and flite of my capacity. I would have never realized the my thoughts could be a ship which could carry so many voices,which could comfort so many hearts,to let them know,they're not alone.

This post is to all your guys, You guys do a wonderfull job on Blogger. With every day passing and every blog update,our spectrum of perceptions and opinions bridens.. Here's to each one of you who've made the tiniest or the biggest of difference in my life by their words.

Today's evening is your's,
Cheers to you.

Take care,
Nilanjana.