Lessons Under The Lemon Tree

2012-01-30T01:07:00.001+05:30

I like it here.

Isolated, noisy and yet so quiet.

I like being invisible.

To everybody.

2011-12-31T00:27:00.002+05:30

Khoya khoya chaand, khula aasmaan.
Aankhon mein saari raat jayegi.
Tumko bhi kaise neend aayegi?

Sigh. I miss Andy. She needs to get back home soon.

She's this intangible bit of my life, which I miss so much without realizing. My daily diet and exercise isn't as rewarding if she doesn't praise me for it. I constantly think something I've forgotten something quite important if we haven't had a single conversation all day. I know I miss her so but I can spend the whole day without being unhappy but it just won't feel right.

Even though I've not really talked to you since a week, I'm okay. But I'm not truly OK. The days don't feel like they should without you.

#Lesson for today: Friends like these.

Oxford, I have some new words

2011-11-04T19:20:00.001+05:30

Fashion Gremlin. (n) - A female, who in her attempts to become a fashionista has mutated into an abomination.

Dorkess. (n) - A female 'dork' who becomes a sex goddess in bed while retaining affable dork nature.

Render. (verb) - A process commonly associated with computers that can drive even the most patient of saints to the brink of madness.

Voluntary Boobage. (n) - The prices of showing off cleavage in a manner that is provocative and yet looks accidental.

Ain. (adj) - The state of mind when anything, anything at all, feels out of place. Understood worldwide as a sign of 'Something Is Wrong'.

Salary. (n) - The imaginary promise of being paid an adequate sum in lieu of daily labour. Often made by employers to employees in order to entice them. Not to be confused with Daily Wages. Often a source of major frustration. (See Also - Myth, Legend, Fairytale, Fable.)

#Lesson for Today: Give me a damn salary, else your files will never render. Ain.

2011-10-16T22:06:00.002+05:30

To answer a question posed to me, I say: "Yes, I'm scared. I'm terrified out of my mind, most days."

But then again, what am I scared of?

I'm scared that all the patches that held life together so far - best friends, school/college, workaholism - have disappeared and life threatens to fall apart any moment now. I'm scared that I've lost my way and finding it again it becoming an endless cycle of making mistakes.

I'm scared that if I leave the city that is driving me to slow madness, it will sound the death knell for the facade of parental harmony since a separation - if not worse - looms on the horizon. I'm scared that when I leave, no matter for how short a duration of time, it will affect the life of my dog. The one being on this planet who I have loved more than all else. I'm scared that I may just love him enough to give up on everything - a better job, a better city to live in and perhaps a better life.

I'm scared of the way I break down over small things these days, I'm not the emotionally stable person I used to be. In the hours that I look up at the fan, the lack of faith in my decisions and judgements from family is starting to make me feel the same.

And that nothing I do is good enough for anybody. I don't give good enough advice, I don't dispel loneliness well enough, I don't socialize enough, I don't stay at home enough, I don't love my dog enough, I don't care about friends enough, I don't sleep enough, I don't listen to your advice enough, I don't become a doormat enough.

I suppose I'm just scared of how scared I've become.

#Lesson for today - This, is the real horror movie.

Birthday Boo's

2011-10-12T23:22:00.003+05:30

One fine day you'll wake up to realize that you've spent close to 10 months in a year without being able to celebrate the birthday of the people you love.

Because birthdays are special. The week leading up to the day, when you must provide a list of places considered treat-worthy. The rummaging about gift-ideas, since you simply must gift something ridiculous with something useful. And usually it is the useful part that is hard to find. There is the nightly conference about whom to invite and whom to snub and how to do so cunningly enough.

There is a complete descent into the stage of a 13 year old schoolgirl, for most part, where you tease the friends with incessant yet unhelpful hints about the endless 'maybe-maybenot' bits of their unplanned day. The giggling, cracking jokes, pretending to be absolutely mindless little adolescents. The rites of passage, declaring that everybody needs to groom a little, for there shall be photographs.

But as opposed as I am to change, it is their nature to. The years fall away and suddenly you wake up, confirm addresses and order a gift online. Even with the three days you spend agonizing over the design, colour, size, etc are rendered impersonal by the delivery boy who shows up instead of you. Photos are meant to be looked at days later, not on the way home and laughing with your arms entangled and seemingly drunk. They tend to be out celebrating, sadly enough, without you.

I wish I was there getting somewhat high with you, funny boy.
I wish I was there to see that silly smile on your face, dearest.
I wish I could see you opening the gift we spent ages planning, you idiot.
I wish I could tease you all day and talk to you about total perspective vortexs, love.
I wish I could show you that birthdays could be a fun day, crazy kid.
I wish I could be there, holding you, through the day, hon.
I wish I could be rocking out with you in a mosh pit, my dodo.
I wish I could have all of you right by my side, when my day rolls around.

#Lesson for the day: I wish I was Marvin, without all the depression.

Of thankful thoughts

2011-09-18T23:08:00.005+05:30

I'm grateful to a lot of things in life but more than all of them, for now, I'm grateful to be loved by him.

I'm thankful for the beauty of the posters and letters, reminding me that old-fashioned romance lives on. That his presence made me stop wanting to get drunk. I'm thankful he helped me believe a little more in myself and try harder to become the person I want to be.

I'm thankful our memories turn themselves into sepia-tinted showreels, moving in slow-motion, where the sound of our laughter echoes throughout and the light naturally makes us look ecstatic. That between is a divide of distance, not of barriers we chose to construct.

I'm thankful I can say all of this to him and he'll listen. That he'll forgive me for being a jackass and a hypocrite. That I can, for better or for worse, be there for him. I'm thankful I let him see me cry and that he did the same.

I'm thankful he is the person he is.

Lesson for today: I'm thankful to be his.

Food is my religion

2011-09-15T01:08:00.002+05:30

At some point in every fat girl's life, she is told that her existence faces an imminent threat from the afore mentioned fat. At this point, you are made to swear on all you hold sacred (including potato chips) that you will stop indulging your lovin' for unhealthy foodstuff (including potato chips). For a while, scared by the revelation that your extra kilograms may do worse than just ruin your dreams of shopping at UCB and Zara, you actually make the effort to stop eating crap (including potato chips). This, is a big fuckin' mistake. It will, lead to disaster.

I went cold turkey, quitting chocolates, chips, candy, various other junk food-esque items and chole bature in the same day. Now, for a girl who has probably been comfort eating since she was 9 years old, giving up the very foundation of content leads to a considerable amount of emotional and existential angst. This translates into many unfortunate incidents. It starts off by becoming hormonal. Not the usual PMS hormonal, but oh-my-fuck-this-is-adolesence-all-over-again hormonal. It's the maa-behen-nani-dadi of PMS. And to add some more fun to it, you don't even realize it's because you've suddenly corrected your skewed body systems.

Then, you start becoming moody, since movies aren't the same without chocolate and nothing is what is used to be without potato chips. Even Arrested Development fails to cheer me up. Frasier still does, but damnit, I want my potato chips.

After a few weeks of this hell, where you feel happy, then sad, then suicidal, then homicidal then everything and homicidal, the doctor who has ruined your life so far says, "You need to stay away from Pasta." By now, your emotions are no longer complacent viewers, content with their hoard of potato chips. You rebel. Potato chips are purchased on the sly, chocolate is gained from ill-conceived means and By God, you eat pasta till you WANT to stay away from it.

Amidst all of this, you see that your body has reacted well to the lack of mind-altering substances and has shed some weight. You start questioning your decision to take up potato chips again. This is where it all falls apart. This is when you become depressed, irritable, sleepy, unable to focus and the whole schebang. At some point, you will find yourself wandering aimlessly at a metro station while not knowing where you're supposed to go.

Contrary to what you may believe, this has nothing to do with anything but your brain telling you that it cannot function solely on human sympathy and what not. It needs potato chips and you can't negotiate on that fact. So after months of agonizing, I ended up at Indian Coffee House, had my Dosa, Lemon Squash and Chips. I read a book. Then I came back home and ate some more food. And today, I happily munched on potato chips with Dahi. And tonight I went full glutton, without any regret.

The end result is a very satisfied Lemon Girl who feels very emotionally balanced at the moment.

And then I figured the Four P's of my happiness: Pineapples, Pasta, Potato chips and Lemon Boi (whose name starts with P and shall hopefully keep me well stocked with the other three.)

#Lesson for today: Food is my religion, do not make me fuck around with or I will turn into a fanatic fundamentalist and Fruit Ninja your ass off.

How I survived four hours in traffic and learnt I was allergic to chilli sauce

2011-09-09T23:47:00.002+05:30

I live in Delhi. Good ol' Nayi Dilli, the city where Mirza Ghalib found inspiration. He must be thanking his stars to not be alive today. Delhi got absolutely fucked by the monsoon today and as is tradition, the drainage system pretty much fell apart. And then, to top it all off, I got stuck in the traffic for four hours.

Yes, count that. F-O-U-R.

I'm not even trying to exaggerate here, I swear to the sweet lord. I left home at 10:23 AM and I reached my office at 2:27 PM. And I ain't talking about Indian Stretchable Time here. Somewhere at the far end of the seven flyovers I must cross to get to office (which is an hour on a normal traffic-y day), a pipe had burst because of the heavy rains. The MCD is anyway perpetually confused about how Delhi functions and the rain sends them into a nervous breakdown.

So yes, I spent four hours inside my car. To top it all off, the car flooded. Yes, it flooded. Water sneaked in from some goddarn where and filled up my darling car till my feet were soaked through and I had no idea where anything was. While I was devising a plan to get rid of it all, the car decides this would a good time to show me how it can skid across the road and almost ram itself into a pedestrian's face.

No, I'm just messing with you. I can barely drive a cycle straight and need a driver and the car was flooded only about 3 inches.

In spite of this obviously scarring experience, I was in a chirpy mood when I got to office. Mostly because nobody else had shown up and I lounged about till 5 while abusing the internet. At which point I figured I should eat something. I power-walked to the market, where I figured I'll get a slightly spicy roll, just for the heck of it. I usually am somewhat sensitive to spice, but since I'm currently dead on the inside, I couldn't care less. Bad idea.

I have a slight cut on my lip from where a grossly negligent parlour-woman slashed through with her thread. My lips usually burn for a bit if I get spice right on them. And today being the precious fucker it was, the chilli sauce hit the cut point blank. The next seven minutes were spent gazing wonderously at my face in the mirror as my lip swelled up to five times it's regular size. And made me look like I was wearing whore-red lipstick. All in all, I'm apparently allergic to chilli sauce.

#Lesson for today: Days like this, be glad you made it back home with your body parts all intact.

Ode

2011-08-24T23:21:00.002+05:30

To A Dear Friend,

15 years and we're still grinning at each other doing silly happy things.
15 years and we're still giddy with delight at each other's Hello's.
15 years and we're still bickering over whose Mum makes better food.
15 years and we're still sorting out our problems every night, one day at a time.
15 years and we're still make-believing that Wonderland exists.
15 years and we're still friends.
15 years later, I'll look back and let you know that we'll be strong for 15 years more.

2011-08-14T22:44:00.003+05:30

Peering back to the past, I chance upon the memory of a girl sitting with her classmates during a psychology class discussing the relevance of the Five Stages of Grief. By and large, everybody agreed that these stages did exist and were subject to change in their order. We also agreed that it was the loss of a loved one or a major tragedy that caused so.

Coming back to the present, there is one slight flaw in this model that we had all missed out on.

It is not simply the loss of someone cherished or a tragedy that accounts for the stages. So many little things, smaller and seemingly inconsequential in nature bring about bigger torments than one would like to give them credit for. One grieves not only for people. One grieves in equal ways for the loss of purpose, of rationality, of direction, of judgement, of self-control, of belief, of faith and of self-identity. But more than all of that, one may grieve for the loss of peace of the mind.

And then comes the grieving. It starts with Denial, of course. One cannot readily accept it all. Then the Bargaining, in this case. Then starts the long cycle of crushing despair. And then, if you're lucky, you'll find Anger. But anger cannot last long and is soon followed by Acceptance. It comes out of nowhere and overwhelms you with a serenity that makes you wonder at the beauty of even something such as loss.

I have found acceptance. Or at least a version of it.

#Lesson for today: Acceptance is a beautiful thing.

For we love personifying.

2011-07-31T00:30:00.005+05:30

I was once asked what my blog would be like if it were a person. At the time, I must have laughed and mumbled something about my blog would obviously be like me in person. A few months have passed by since and I have diligently observed you, my dear blog.

The manner in which you encourage me to twist words. Perhaps only to add a slight poetic longing to them. Longing I had long forgotten about. The times when you refuse to let me write and script scathing posts that break more fragments of an ailing heart than they would have healed. The simplicity with which you take in every complaint, rant, fantasy and obsession I have thrown mercilessly at you.

You have been me, at some point in your existence, but that moment has passed. You, darling blog, are different. An entity that exists separate of me somehow. Perhaps it is a symbiotic life that we lead.

You would be tall. I get the feeling of a tall, lanky adolescent boy when I see you. The kinds who secretly wishes to play the Cello but decided to opt for a guitar instead. I see you walking down the street, childhood backpack and book in hand. You too, disdain change with the intensity that I do. It reflects in the ageing of your shoes, the manner in which you have yet not discarded your favourite childhood shirt. The yellow one, that is.

I get the feeling you have long hair. Not the kinds a rebel or a rocker would have. Just naturally long and flowly hair. They go well with your specs and aura of intellect. I wouldn't call you happy but then I wouldn't call you sad either. You've a marvellous ability to be content with the world. Some many even call you a star-child, one whom the fairy dust has been sprinkled upon. Yes, that would be it, for even your friends occasionally call you Peter Pan. You enchant them with your wicked eyes and sudden esoteric humour they have finally started to understand.

Tucked under your ability to get along with the world is another universe in itself. I suppose you hear home calling when you put an ear to the sea-shells. The sound of the sea is your siren call, I can see you travelling among steamers and ferrys. Aah Blog, you would make for a very curious person, I feel. You read. In fact, you devour books. Your love potion would probably smell like fresh ink and a newly opened book. That is where we meet. Somehow, you keep that single-minded worship of the written word a secret. The world has disappointed you on that more than once.

You prefer time to walk by slowly. Speed holds no thrills for you, for you will forever be that thin, lanky teenager who loves the shy girl across the street. And then there is your wild side. You drink, you party and you sing karaoke versions of songs like there never will be a tomorrow. And your smile. Your smile inspired a certain Anna Nalick to write: "But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles/Wanna hold him/Maybe I'll just sing about it."

And of course, you love Lemons. In all shapes and forms. The smell, the sour taste. If you would know how to cook those delectable mediterranean dishes you dream of, I suppose you would add lemon zest to everything. Yes, your dedication towards all things Lemon (including a certain Lemon Girl) is astounding. Perhaps more so than the fact that you've never heard the song that many believe inspired you.

That is the you I have shown the true me without restraints or fear. The adolescent boy that makes me remember days spent under the cotton tree and dreaming of Wonderland. That is you, Blog.

#Lesson for today: Just.

Of Loneliness

2011-07-17T14:36:00.001+05:30

All said and done, life does move on. But it makes you lonely in ways you never quite could have expected.

It isn't the loneliness you know off. Nothing changes in your life and yet it isn't your life any more.

Loneliness is knowing that the metro doors will not open to reveal a face familiar and loved. Or even known, for that matter. It is the daily reminder that your favourite coffee shop no longer is the first choice to spend a leisurely afternoon at. Being lonely is not being able to walk right into the homes you considered almost your own, especially when you need them the most. It is the cold fact that there isn't someone a phone call away who'll stay up till 3 a.m. just because you told them to.

Loneliness is not having reason to celebrate even when you have every single reason to. When you are greeted warmly by a stranger when you get good news instead of people who would have wished most fervently for your happiness. It is quietly smiling to yourself over a plate of cold food while congratulating yourself just a little.

It is an endless cycle of reminding yourself that all your new discoveries are truly your own and you couldn't share them truly if you wanted to. Of noting events, people, places, ideas, feelings on a piece of paper to maybe chance upon weeks later.

It is the slight lump in your throat when you fake a little laughter now and then, while knowing what truly makes you laugh may not be there to cheer you up for a while. Loneliness is a broken conversation and lost threads with no way to preserve them till there is time enough to fix it all.

Loneliness is the heart wrenching paradox of life where you are alone even when you haven't lost the people you pine for. They don't leave you behind, and yet they do. Their memories keep you happy till you remember there won't be any new ones to keep. And it hurts. It can actually make you feel a heart breaking into smaller fragments every single time you get through another day.

Loneliness is harsh, it doesn't go away. Not when you're surrounded by people, not when you block the world out. It stays, it keeps hinting at its ability to make you walk by some of the best days of your life without reminiscing even once.

But before all of this and more than all else, loneliness is a reminder that all of it matters, for now, only to you.

#Lesson for today: http://8tracks.com/mmcgill829/classics

The heart must have what it wants...

2011-05-24T23:42:00.005+05:30

It is not a fall from grace to have given up all pretensions and loved you fully. For now I know that it true when they say that you were borne of my imagination and romanced in it till I was ready to know the flesh-and-bones you. I was predestined to be, to fit the curves of your body like I readily do. Every night, your face is mine to observe and adore in the twinkle of those far away stars and so you creates a night so wonderous that one cannot help but fall in love with the cool detachment of the moonlight and forget how it feels to stand under the warming rays of the morning sun. You are mine against all odds and heartbreaks, especially those we were sure to remember beyond time itself.

I cannot challenge the sweetness of the whispered promises or the passionate surge of tears when I see you cry. Yet some days force me to wonder, they lead my thoughts asunder. Especially when the thunder rolls about and I can disguise my sorrows in admiration for the blinding light. I can only hope the same spectacle is beheld by you, standing a thousand cities away from my heart. Still, how much does distance matter when I hear you sing my weary mind to sleep?

I am thankful for you, mostly when your actions convince me that I have been ensnared in a plot, a conspiracy to make the world beautiful again. What else could have bathed the skies in heart warming hues and colours, when I had all but forgotten what they meant to me. Like today, when walking amongst the flaming rows of Laburnums and Gulmohars, I forget my multitude of heartbreaks and let go of wretched doubtfulness. You were mine to begin with and you will be mine when all has ended.

#Lesson for today: Pick a flower, press it your heart, tell it all your secrets and then walk away.

Insert heavy sigh..

2011-04-26T20:10:00.003+05:30

What I speak to the stars is between their glimmer and me.
What I cast into the night is our secret to keep.
What I cannot say for fear of breaking my own heart,
is for the endless reams of crumpled paper to feel.

Goodbye, Farewell..

2011-04-21T22:32:00.003+05:30

The heat is oppressive and the weather is desultory, making us restless. It doesn't feel like home inside the Studio anymore. Not like the way it used to. Nothing pulls us back to the doors, telling us to stay. It seems like we're lying in wait, to shut those doors and never look back. This is not the way it was supposed to end. No, nobody would have imagined it like this.

These are the last days of our college life. It should have been beautiful, with us reminiscing and becoming nostalgic. We should have been making plans for the future, ways to spend more time together after we've left. Only now we bicker and mourn over the loss of time and precious memories that we could have been creating. Frustration has replaced the tinge of sadness that permeates through our moods at the end of three wonderful years. For we are crying still, only we know it is not love that fuels our tears. The winds of change betray us at every step.

We wanted to step out gracefully, with time slowly fading our memories away. Fate has different plans for us, plans that make us trip and fall on our way out. We have fallen on our faces and never once been picked back up with care. All our fragility has been forgotten, replaced by hard hearts and attitudes. Is this what a farewell truly feels like, as if you weren't even wanted in the first place?

Our time as students has all but left us exhausted, in certain ways. For each other, for the times we shared, we'll do it all over again. At least that is what we say to assure ourselves that we will pick up where we left off. There is one heartstring that knows better, we would not want to go through the last few months again.

#Lesson for today: It's time to leave. Whether we want to or not. I only wish it would have been a fond memory.

^_^

2011-03-27T22:30:00.004+05:30

I'm addicted to 9GAG.com. That would explain my current absence from Blogger. #Lesson for today: 502 pages into the site, I realize I love the internet way too much.

2011-03-02T00:42:00.002+05:30

Looking at the descriptive entries about my classmates and their achievements in the college, I feel relieved I did not nominate myself for any award.

I pity the girl who would have to work up my citation. If left in my hands, it would read something like,

"Lemon Girl is mostly fat, existential, retarded and profound about it. College has never held any special appeal for her, apart from the canteen samosas. She can be found looking rather concerned at her growing waist-line in the makeup room or being injured by tripods. Lemon Girl has a number of other interests that shall remain undescribed for fear of her abandoning them temporarily. She is known to emulate a certain TV character quite well and is the epitome of the kind of person your mother always wanted you to be. Only not so much."

#Lesson for today: I believe I saved myself a lot of ridicule. :D

Dear Lemon Girl

2011-02-19T22:42:00.002+05:30

When in a month, your life changes so much that from public awkwardness, you go to dancing and singing in front of a bus full of people. When just the mere distance between two people kill you and when you wish to god that you could fly not because you want to be a superhero to bug people, but just so that you could fly across miles to meet someone. You know you are in love.

Lemon Girl, you are perfect for me. Absolutely perfect I tell you. You claim I’m perfect for you, but I doubt it, I shall though try to live up to your expectations. You are a brilliant person with a beautiful personality which I completely adore. I love everything about you, your squinty eyes, your rosy cheeks, your thoughts and just everything about you. The way you grin, the way you laugh, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you call my name, the way you make faces and everything there is.

I feel so loved that I could hug the world. I for once understand the “sharing-pain-and-happiness” aspect of a relationship. I love you, and I love us. We can be cheesy and we can be hot, we are awesome.

Lemon Girl, You are my life, my universe and everything. I love you, Lemon Girl.

-In love and extremely happy,

Lemon Boi

PS:

What is your substance, whereof are you made,

That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

Since every one hath, every one, one shade,

And you, but one, can every shadow lend.

Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit

Is poorly imitated after you;

On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,

And you in Grecian tires are painted new:

Speak of the spring and foison of the year;

The one doth shadow of your beauty show,

The other as your bounty doth appear;

And you in every blessed shape we know.

In all external grace you have some part,

But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

- William Shakespeare

(Sonnet 53)

#Lesson for today: When in love, dancing in front of the hospital is not such a good idea.

Attention dear readers

2011-02-19T19:43:00.000+05:30

Ladies and Their Gentlemen,

This post is to announce that this blog will now be run by two people, Lemon Girl and her Lemon Boi.

Because love will make you want to do things like adding the person you have declared to be your life, your 42 and your custom tailored fit as an admin to a very personal blog.

Welcome, dearest Lemon Boi. :*

#Lesson for today: Love is all you need.

Dear Lemon Boi

2011-02-12T22:22:00.003+05:30

Dear Lemon Boi,
I love you.
Always

How do I not love him?

From the moment I wake up, he is on my mind and in my thoughts. Wishing him morning is now a priority when I wake up. Talking to him all day long makes time slow down and speed up without notice. The sun is brighter, even for the girl who doesn't like sunshine so much. There is a permanent smile on my face and my heart. His face is just perfect. Just perfect, I tell you. With him, the love flows naturally. It asserts itself in the face of many objections on my part.

His voice sounds poetic to me. Especially when he sings, you know. He is the perfect size for a bear hug.

More than all of that, he is sort of the character that I would have found lurking in a novel somewhere. The kinds that my mind and heart both rapidly lend themselves to. He is my 42, the one who gives me perspective. He knows how to calm me down in my hyper-paranoid state. Just right now, he was talking in a silly punjabi sort of accent to cheer me up.

Why would I ever want to stop loving him?

2011-01-09T00:26:00.002+05:30

It's four degrees outside. Which is hardly fair. Ya toh itna cold ho ki snow man ban jaye ya phir naa ho.

Dilli ki sardi mujhe samajh nahi aati.

#Lesson for today: On days when your brain is too clogged up with mucous to have a come-back beyond Pffft, Best-Friend will turn out to be irrefutably correct about all things in general.

Sometimes

2010-12-20T22:21:00.003+05:30

Do you sometimes hear a song and unconsciously sway in time. Know that you'll be humming it till late in the evenings and the mornings to come. Figure it will stay on your playlist till your player dies out and gives in. Forget everything but the way it seeps through your thoughts and overwhelms the world.

Do you sometimes read a book and find a friend in the pages. Love them with all sincerity and expect wonderful advice at the drop of a hat. Ask them about the moons and stars far away, about clouds in the sky. Cry to them when the world feels unfair and wrong. Pretend to ignore them so that they may call out to you in the midst of a fierce summer wind.

Do you sometimes look back through albums and faded photographs. Look for people that you have seldom talked with; only observed through corners of your eye. Recall instances that seem like your own, yet make you a stranger in a strange land. Create characters in your head that amuse you for hours at an end.

Do you sometimes look at someone across the room and freeze. Think that the ground beneath your feet just moved a little. Look into their eyes to find a steady reassuring gaze surrounding you, getting you drunker than the wine in your hands. Breathe while pinching yourself, for you have found one more alike soul to banter with.

#Lesson for today: We do. We all do.

2010-12-12T01:42:00.002+05:30

We'll romanticize everything.

Memories, train journeys.

Yearning, tiny little habits,

Shoes, a universe full of clues.

A sudden rush of cold breeze,

Streets, doors that shall creak.

We'll romanticize everything,

But we'll never romance anything.

I'm your man, said Cohen

2010-12-04T01:30:00.004+05:30

There is usually a fair amount of conjecture involved as to why anybody should ever want a boyfriend. Of late, I too have been thinking hard about my reasons for wanting a boyfriend. In all honesty, I can say that the only reason I want a boyfriend is so that he can put on Leonard Cohen's "I'll Be Your Man" in the background and slow dance with me.

That is all I would want from him.

I've been thinking and have come to the decision that I will soon be ending most of my 'online only' friendships. Except for a few people who have truly become a part of my life, I will be ceasing conversation with these people. It's become rather hard to be this involved with each other and not be actually involved in everyday life. I expect a little too much from them and it's not fair, is it?

There is a new show airing in the US, called Bridalplasty. It is scary, like horror-that-is-network-executives scary. The point of the show is for women to contest against each other so that they can get plastic surgery done post each task. Liposuction, Enhancement, Tummy tucks. You name it, they'll do it. The winner gets a dream wedding. All the grooms-to-be lose, cuz their fiancee's are now freaks.

#Lesson for today: Slow music, slow simmering love.

Too bad, girlie.

2010-11-26T00:37:00.003+05:30

It seems I'm a person made entirely of words and every boy out to win my heart has left his dictionary at home. I'm grateful for the few boys who have learnt it by heart, though.

Too bad they're never going to be mine.

It has come to be that I think I have fallen in love. With exactly (1) person, region, language and lifestyle.

Too bad I've no time for any of them.

It seems I currently look the best I have in years.

Too bad there is nobody to quite appreciate it.

It is a great joy that friends have found good friends in far away lands, boyfriends and work that keeps them happy.

Too bad that they seem to have forgotten about me.

The world is conspiring to make me feel a little more melancholy each day and cheat heavily on my healthy eating mode.

#Lesson for today: Too bad that's not happening.

Lights will guide you home

2010-11-04T22:33:00.004+05:30

What is it about a camera that can turn the most notorious festival-mood-killer into a ball of happiness and joy at the idea of lighting candles?

Happy Diwali, everybody.

#Lesson for today: Hair make for engaging travel companions.

2010-10-29T00:16:00.001+05:30

I will go and get a Justin Bieber-ish haircut.

Mostly because it'll suit me more.

I haven't bothered with a haircut in 10 months. The split ends have split ends.

#Lesson for today: If it's a broken part, replace it.
But, if it's a broken arm then brace it.
If it's a broken heart then face it.
Are the things that make you blow.
Hell, no reason, go on and scream.
If you're shocked it's just the fault,
Of faulty manufacturing.

The moozic post

2010-10-15T00:57:00.004+05:30

Maine galti se Ishq Bector ka naya video dekh liya. Mujhe bahut bure sapne aane waale hain, marrrrk maaiii wordsss!

There is new music on the blog, mostly because I cannot take any more of that whistling for a while. Enjoy my random taste in music, derived from the Indie tendencies of best friend. My own tastes in music tend to be difficult to describe. In the last few days, I've gone from Rafi to Children of Bodom to Daniel Eno to Waka Waka to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie to a sudden wish to watch The Sound of Music again and again. And a little bit of Devendra Banhart thrown in for good measure?

What did us kids do before we discovered the beauty of youtube and thelastfm? We listened to the Best of BSB Chapter 1 on repeat, much like tonight. One also remembers a small playlist somewhere on the iTunes screen with The Flaming Lips, Paradise Circus, The Who, The Doors and Tom Petty all mixed in. Or maybe just Deewana Hua Pagal on replay. *Sigh*

The shuffle has been very partial towards Coldplay today, I wonder if that's a sign that I've been watching too much of Wonderfalls and 30 Rock. What can I say, it's too early to start Arrested Development all over again.

#Lesson for today: Ishq Bector ko Dakku Daddy nahi pasand.

Twenty, soon enough

2010-10-04T14:09:00.003+05:30

Mother always claimed that taking care of my doll-house was like preparing to take care of my life.
I broke my first and only doll-house.

Father always tried to make sure I had more sense in my pretty head than stories from far-away lands.
I dreamt of wind swept archipelagos off the coast of a rainy existence.

I always wanted to be the kind of person who knew what to do in life and never lost sight of myself.
I ended up abhorring change of any kind.

Twenty years of existence and I don't know if I did anything right.
Twenty years of existence and another twenty starts on a cold, rainy and whiskey-fuelled night.

#Lesson for today: It's scary to be so close and yet so far from turning twenty.

Ode to sugary delights.

2010-09-24T00:39:00.002+05:30

I think I'm going thora sa emo. Black nail polish, dark thoughts and random self-pen-tattooing. Only, I've what, a whole of three black tops with me? And not enough random dark thoughts to cut my wrists. Not to forget a whole packet of mishri and a beautiful moonlit night ahead of me.

What did Urmila sing?
Tanha tanha yahan pe jeena ye koi baat hai?
Koi saathi nahin tera yahaan to ye koi baat hai?
Kisi ko pyaar dede,
Kisi ka pyaar lele,
Is saare zamaane mein yehi pyaari baat hai.

Cute limerick. Just not as powerful as the stories of lightning storms far away. Life is all about looking for newer things now.

Bas main aur meri parchaayi,
Hum chale un raston par,
Jahan mile humein do pal ka saathi,
Do pal ka karavaan hum sunte chale.

#Lesson for today: Janaab, jaankar bhi kya karenge?

Khabar nahi

2010-09-20T01:25:00.003+05:30

This lemon is back to being a loner for now. No more unhealthy pseudo-boyfriend crap. No more day-dreaming. No more longings. Although, I do have a little thing for someone I can't have and it makes me feel funny inside. ;]

Among other news, Delhi is yet again on high alert because of a random shooting. And Sheila Dikshit figures the best way to make people less terrified about coming for the CWG is to ask us Delhi-ites to celebrate the Games like they were a holiday. I don't think she gets much of Delhi will be busy with their Pujo/Diwali/Dusshera celebrations. Or out of Delhi.

What's to celebrate anyway? I can't walk around C.P. for hours, I can't take one particular lane in the road while the Games are on, I can't fuckin' go meet my friends because Mother thinks the police will fine me or something. I might just shift to Gurgaon for the time being. Not to mention that it's September and it feels like the winters are almost here. No kidding, it felt like the middle of November today morning. Which explains why I still haven't had a bath. Pointless exercise. It's not like anybody cares.

#Lesson for today: Sunshine isn't for me. Sorry, Katrina and the Waves.

Cadbury didn't come up Temptations, I did.

2010-09-16T21:29:00.003+05:30

We all have our obsessions. Some small, some big. Small known, some like a dark secret eating inside of you till it spills out and you're afraid you're forever going to be greeted with one upturned eyebrow and a little whisper behind the back.

But then there are those, that make you incessantly happy. Those you think about when nothing else comes to your mind. Those that naturally take over so much of your time, you wonder when the clock struck midnight and moved beyond. Obsessions of the heart, where it doesn't even matter how obsessed you get.

Dangerous are those, that linger unaccepted.For once you know of it, you can let it fester on for as long as it must till the time comes for it to pass. Once you know of it, you can chuckle at it and talk to it like a child being unreasonable and know it cannot last long. Once you know, you know and you couldn't care.

You're fast becoming an obsession and I know it. But I'll forget you soon enough, like I forgot the others.

#Lesson for today: I've a major thing for German poets.

Blogpost

2010-09-09T23:26:00.002+05:30

My table is cluttered. Not for the first time either.

A hard disk, a wallet.
A photograph, a scale.
A pair of earrings, a tin box.
An USB drive cap, a ten rupee coin.
And I've been staring at them for too long now.

Bas bohot has kar ji liye, kuch toh rone bhi do.

#Lesson for today: It rains, it pours, it drizzles. It keeps you alive, doesn't it?

Itna khayegi toh moti ho jayegi

2010-09-08T22:26:00.004+05:30

Sometimes you'll do anything, be as forceful or as cunning or just plain annoying.

For free food.

I don't know why that is though. I thought we were civilized. I guess not. We're all wild lemons after all.

#Lesson for today: Free.Food.Good.

Mar gaya rahul

2010-09-05T23:07:00.002+05:30

Hadd hai gary lightbody. Uska bass chale toh kisi bhi ladke ke compliments cliched aur overused lagenge. But till that time comes, I have momos to eat. Chicken ones at that, half of them friend and the other perfectly steamed. With the well measured combination of the spicy and sweet sauce.

Dusri taraf ek naiyya duub rahi hai. Kya karein, aathvi kaksha ke baad ab jaakar phir hindi bolne ka mauka mila hai. Ab mil hi gaya hai toh jaane kyun de?

Nimbu ke pedh ne bhi madad karni band kar di hai.

Bas ab ek tinke ka sahara hai. Wah bhi toota toh kya bacha?

#Lesson for today: Bachon, chahe french, german, sanskrit, spanish jo marzi seekhni ho seekh lo. Apni rajya ki bhaasha mat bhulna. Kyunki google translate ka vyaakran bohot ki bekaar hai.

Aur barso

2010-09-02T19:35:00.003+05:30

I feel plain sorry for the CWG chaps now. Even if they are trying to get the Games rolling, the rain isn't making things any easier. The elements collectively decided to screw Kalmadi over. But I couldn't care. The moment I have my holidays, I'm plonking this fat-ass somewhere far away and forgetting the world exists for a while.

Seriously, I knew the third year of college was going to be hard. I just didn't know I was going to burnout in two month's time. It's already September and suddenly staring at blank patch on the wall has become very calming. What with watching two movies a day and making sense of all the symbolism, comfort eating seems like a good habit to develop again. More so because the momos near college are suddenly better than they ever were.

I am vaguely scared of Skype. I wonder why.

Phir baarish. Phir paani. Phir geele kapde. Phir maa ka daantna. Phir wahi hasi. Phir wahi din.

#Lesson for today: Even re-inforced plastic umbrellas cannot save you from the Delhi skies.

On a music box

2010-08-29T10:17:00.000+05:30

What do you see?
You people gazing at me.
You see a doll on a music box,
That's wound by a key.
How can you tell,
I'm under a spell?
I'm waiting for love's first kiss!
You cannot see,
How much I long to be free.
Turning around on this music box,
That's wound by a key.
Yearning..
Yearning..
While,
I'm turning around and around..

Lemon Boy

2010-08-24T00:21:00.002+05:30

Lemons are loners, I've noticed. Still, it has so come to be that Lemon Girl is in possession of something resembling a Lemon Boy.

Lemon Boy features heavily throughout this blog. He's never been credited, except for maybe as 'A'. Lemon Boy happens to be my best friend since forever. And my first love. And almost like my first boyfriend. *So Bollywood, I know*.

Lemon Boy complicates life to no end, yet he is the only one who can keep it very simple. Lemon Boy has a girlfriend, one he is very dedicated to. He does, though, have the softest of spots for me and is my pseudo-boyfriend. I don't know what that is, really. He's more than a best friend but not a boyfriend, I guess.

The reason why I'm saying this is that too many of my incoherent posts are so because of him. Now that he's out in the open, maybe much of the general confusion in my head will stop. Or maybe I'll grow tired of him and find someone new. Either ways, Lemon Boy is here to stay.

#Lesson for today: Lemon Boys are impossible to not love.

Queen of whales

2010-08-22T14:39:00.004+05:30

There are always some chats which you want to frame and hang.

A: Tujhe ek course padhana chahiye. Self esteem proportionate to size 101.
me: Hmmm, you have a point.
A: I don't know how you manage.
me: Muskhil thodi naa hai. What is the worst they can call me?
A: Mujhe kya pata? Elephant, whale, moti?
me: Usmein kya hai? Koi whale bole toh uska simple reply hai: "I'm waiting to be declared as a new species."
A: ...
...
...
me: Theek hai, "I'm waiting to be declared as the queen of whales!"
A: Bahut paisa kamayegi tu.

Also

me: Haan re, I'm never getting a boy.
A: True.
me: Eh? That was rude.
A: I'm just saying.. you won't get a boy. You'll get a man.
me: Acha.
A: *Twirls you into arms, puts on music from Amelie and kisses till you forget about getting a boyfriend*
me: Should I cut, copy, paste to dearest girlfriend?
A: Kar le. If she breaks up with me, you can be my lifelong rebound. :*
me: Whee. :-|

#Lesson for today: Self esteem is easy. Love isn't.

2010-08-19T18:11:00.001+05:30

Why does Christina Aguilera even try singing peppy songs when her voice is point blank perfect for sad songs?

2010-08-15T21:01:00.000+05:30

I'm in love.

With Him.

#Lesson for the day: What? It's love.

The hours

2010-07-25T00:38:00.003+05:30

It takes exactly 17 minutes and 38 seconds to go from the north of delhi to the west in the metro. I checked. Four times. It takes just a little more than that to go from actually wanting to laugh and snicker to lying comatose on the bed staring up at the fan that never tires, even though the only thing it knows is to go around in circles. It takes an hour longer to finally fall asleep, even though you know you won't like the dreams that are bound to come. It takes two hours more to think about what you've started doing and feel bad about it. And then immediately stop caring because that is what got you into this mess in the first place.

It takes till nightfall for the entire morning to wash away from your mind so that you can cry a little. No reason, it feels right to be letting something go. It takes till midnight for the music to start. Somewhere in my mind, Snow Patrol and Coldplay begin to alternately opening wounds and plastering them with band-aids. It takes the three seconds post midnight to check the chat that just came and feel the lump settling in your throat. It takes nineteen whole hours for reality to come crashing down my head and I let out one little tear, just to finish up the day's quota.

It takes nineteen hours, 30 minutes and some lingering seconds to stop counting the hours, minutes and seconds and finally take off the wrist watch.

It still takes too many hours, minutes and wasted tears for the world to finally stop.

#Lesson for today: When it hurts, laugh about the weather.

2010-07-12T22:36:00.002+05:30

She never felt quite as comfortable in the curves of someone else's body. Does anything else matter, she mused as she felt her grin grow wider with each passing second. Secrets tasted much better than propriety, after all.

#Lesson for today: None, given up.

Of everything the rain isn't yet

2010-07-07T18:52:00.002+05:30

And I dreamed of a slippery road,
running uphill when I wanted to go down
a small shack on the edge of the cliff
teetering, almost daring gravity to make it fall
where there is a sad looking boy, a stranger
who'll save me from the ranks of those that
forget to believe in love

And then I dreamed of hands that would
throw little raindrops my way
just because they wanted to move
of steam rising from our cups and
the thousand smoldering fires in the
valley that spun itself around us
and I opened my eyes to find that I was
still on my own
only the dream of happiness had grown

2010-07-05T18:56:00.002+05:30

(Click to Enlarge)

#Lesson for today: There are at least two for real Comic Book Guy's out there in the world.

Omelette du Fromage

2010-06-26T14:15:00.003+05:30

Lemon Girl is proud to report that she successfully pulled off a delicious cheese omelet at the first try.

#Lesson for today: I may not be able to go back to normal omelettes.

2010-06-20T12:25:00.001+05:30

There is the perfect template for me in the designer part of blogger. With lemons and stripes. And it makes me so sad that it does not go along with the feel of the blog.

I wish it did. :(

Whom? Whom?

2010-06-19T23:09:00.000+05:30

Douglas Adams said it was Mice, who were secretly controlling mankind.

Tom Holt says it is Frogs.

Whom to believe?

#Lesson for today: Mankind is definitely not controlling mankind.

Meme’d

2010-06-06T15:52:00.002+05:30

Ten things you wish you could say to people right now:
~ I don’t like you much.
~ I really miss you but have too much pride to say so
~ I wish you didn’t love somebody else
~ Don’t stop believing in yourself, honey
~ You’re going down the wrong way, you’ll be sorry
~ If only we could spend every.waking.moment. together, I’d be happy
~ Come back please, you’ve been missed
~ Somewhere, there is somebody waiting for you. Patience
~ You make my heart burst into twenty thousand gazillion smiles
~ You do realize that I am always right?

Nine things about yourself:
- I like lemons
- and lemonade
- and animals
- and Questionable Content
- and wear mismatched clothes
- and forget where I was supposed to go
- and can’t get enough of books
- and can be found dancing to funny songs
- and having epiphanies by the hour (or week)

Eight ways to win your heart:
` Love my doggie
` Have good language skills. Good enough to be able to correct me
` Text me crazy lyrics at any point of the day
` Daydream with me, about me, for me
` Be interesting. Tell me what you like, everything. Fromquantamphysicstopoopjokes
` Know that it’s fine if I’m acting crazy. Act with me. Don’t tell me I’m crazy though.
` Don’t be gross. That’s my job.
` Read blog and comment liberally.

Seven things that cross your mind a lot:
- Would this have a Wikipedia entry?
- Oooooh, blog post!
- I am a ninja! I will make you my bitch!
- How did I end up like this? I used to be fine.
- But I’m happy ending up like this, I think.
- I want my own tragic kingdom. Or an hour in Narnia.

Six things you wish you never did:
~ Opened my mouth, to start with.
~ Given people the wrong idea.
~ Given advice
~ Dated (yes, I do regret having those particular boyfriend(s))
~ Stopped dancing
~ Maths

Five turn-offs:
- Over confidence.
- Facebook profiles.
- Thinking you’re already an important part of my life.
- Pragmatism.
- “I don’t read books/like animals”. Go die, fucker.

Four turn-ons:
- Books + Spectacles *drooooool*
- Lack of certain common senses.
- That wild, crazy look in the eyes that says I love you.
- The perfect hug.

Three things you want to do before you die:
- Write a book. A good one. A makes-me-filthy-stinking-rich-yet-the-love-of-all-age-groups one.
- Hug a panda.
- Love, properly.

Two smileys that describe you:
- B-)
- :-> (quite the smug bitch, I can be)

One confession:
I am a ninja. I make people my bitch!

#Lesson for today: Memes. Loath them, dislike them, you can’t ignore them.

Hello

2010-06-01T22:32:00.002+05:30

I'm finally over with my internship. Woo-Hoo! What lemontastic lessons did I learn there, you ask?

#1. It is acceptable to use the words boobs on the world page of a newspaper but nowhere else.
(Read As: Indian women are not in possession of them; all foreigners are)

#2. All socialist news will include "Brinda Karat has commented".
(Read As: Only acceptable socialist hottie in our country)

#3. The day feels incomplete if the Maoists/Naxals/Kashmiri Militants didn't do anything news-worthy.
(Read As: This is how we sensationalize newspapers)

#4. Shashi Tharoor + Twitter = Newspaper Fodder
(Read As: He's easy to quote, why waste time anywhere else?)

#5. The AP ministry finds serving gur with tea instead of sugar as the only wholly undeniable proof of corruption.
(Read As: Much of the country is unknowingly corrupt)

#6. Sports story editors must inform the photography department of their stories at the earliest. Only photographs with 'interesting' positions will do.
(Read As: Not so sure myself.)

There were many more interesting instances that I cannot share for fear of my boss stumbling on to this link from my work bench. Don't worry though, I'll be putting them up as soon as I can run down to office and delete the browsing history :D

#Lesson for today: If you don't check on your ability to love every now and then, you may just forget how to.

Oh hell come ring this bell

2010-05-13T23:47:00.003+05:30

The only true sign that I am not a delusion trapped in someone else's fantasy is that mosquitoes exist. Nobody cares enough for them, not even enough to let them enter the realms of a tragic kingdom.

Somewhere along the edge of your world, there is a feeling waiting to be found. You almost saw it once, but then the swirling dust storms grabbed it and fled. And then you wait, like a Djinn stuck in time at the same spot for years and years to know what it was. Nothing changes they say, you only change what you felt about it. Wonder once, malice now. Still, a touch of excitement lingers somewhere. One that sends you spiraling away till the earth cracks beneath your feet to make you stop.

And then you wake up, you've fallen out of love. No void to remember it by, just a touch of wanting to hang on longer. Just another day, with a mosquito buzzing near your ear.

#Lesson for today: If you stop caring so much, you'll start to love again.

Grumble

2010-05-12T12:57:00.002+05:30

I think the neighbours must think I ritually slaughter peasants/have exceptionally amazing sex every now and then, judging by the sounds coming from my room. Loud screams, with sudden bouts of cheering and then some silence.

But as life would have it, neither of those two particularly appealing things is going on. The loud screams are a result of having gained weight in spite of giving up chocolates/chips/junk food/aerated drinks for a while now. The sudden bouts of cheering happen when a previously hated tee fits perfectly. The silence, when I fall asleep from being a depressive-maniac.

In further uninteresting news, I am yet again stuck at an internship. It has sucked away much of my dry wit and longing to be funny. Explains why you are reading the most boring post of this blog ever.

Except the sex part. Everybody likes sex parts.

#Lesson for today: If there is a God up there, he doesn't like lemons much.

Freud-ness

2010-04-23T19:46:00.002+05:30

Lemon Girl: I'm really no good at this. Really. Hitler would have been able to like Jews better than I can do this.

Him: Try again. You can't always keep failing!

Lemon Girl: Brilliant pep talk, you know.

Him: All you have to do is swallow up your ego and whatever it is you want to shout out loud and restrain the need to poke somebody with an ice pick. Can we do it?

Lemon Girl: No, we're fucked.

Him: Dammit! How will you ever have a social life?

Lemon Girl: I'll get therapy.

Him: And what are you doing till then?

Lemon Girl: *has brilliant idea* *starts scrubbing away microscopic particles of dust*

Him: *facepalm*

#Lesson for today: Being anal retentive is a great way to win arguments.

2010-04-18T15:07:00.003+05:30

I promise to be nice if you promise to bring me one surprise every day.

The sexy librarian lives no more

2010-04-09T23:30:00.002+05:30

So, I'm sitting in the comfort of my room, thinking that it's about time that I should get out there and spend some money when I realize that the roof just might fall on my head any minute and I'll be covered in strawberry coloured paint flakes that will stick on my hair like taffy.

That sucks because I just spent about an hour making sure that my hair looks like that perfect innocent yet sexy librarian every boy wants to get it on with. This look was promptly dismembered by my lovely doggie as I bent to retrieve my slippers from him.

So now I look dismembered and close to that hairy family fella in the Adams Family. This day is not going well. I throw umbrellas up in the air and they land bang on my head.

#Lesson for today: I'm going to be pernicious in relationships from now on.

2010-04-06T14:16:00.003+05:30

And even though it means I can pick up six books for the price of one, I curse the people who didn't love their books enough to keep them safe.

It's like browsing for orphans in a crowded market place, where you feel no amount of love can make those books feel truly your's.

#Lesson for today: My alter-ego is delusional.

Confession

2010-04-02T00:28:00.001+05:30

Dear Blog Readers,

Lemon Girl is currently crushing on a guy. Real Hard.

Lemon Girl does not know how to, or whether she should tell him at all. Lemon Girl would appreciate some advice.

Also, my dear blog readers know the guy.

#Lesson for today: >.<

A hundred miles..

2010-03-19T23:58:00.004+05:30

Life is fair and then unkind
And it's left me alone to find
It takes a hundred miles
To have faith in it once more.

Daddy dear, I love you so,
Momma, more than you'll ever know
Even if we're a hundred miles
away from home.

Can it be that we don't fight
And loving you will feel right
Coz my heart is a hundred miles
Away from you.

#Lesson for today: Go listen to 500 Miles by Roseanne Cash. Go now, Shoo!

cough cough

2010-03-10T21:42:00.001+05:30

#Lesson for today: It is very, very embarrassing to be caught singing 'Promiscuous Girl' out loud inside the metro. Especially when it is with a look of rapt enjoyment on one's face.

Sarcasm, bitch!

2010-02-27T23:58:00.002+05:30

Aah, Google Chrome. You bring love to the cockles of my spindly, dank heart.

When you open an incognito window:

Going incognito doesn't affect the behavior of other people, servers, or software. Be wary of:

People standing behind you

#Lesson for today: This is why I love Geeks, Nerds & Paranoid Androids.

RIP, us.

2010-02-21T23:46:00.003+05:30

Did they tell life would be easy an uncomplicated after a point? That friends would last forever and compromises would cease. Did you ever dream of a time, when you would be surrounded by intellectual equals and mad-hatters in a personal wonderland?

It's been two years since college started. It's not any easier and life can only become more tangled in the real world. Compromises I made with people have ceased, only to haunt me back as regrets. How child like I seem to myself, thinking I could be happy with a bunch like them. Poshlust, I believe is what I fooled myself with. It isn't like the girl I knew, to have made friends so easy to let go off.

I miss their presence, yet never our conversations. I miss our sojourns, yet not their alcohol fueled revelations. I miss our togetherness, the way we laughed and the little mannerisms meant only for each other. It's like losing a lover you only loved for the sake of not being lonely. But tell me dear readers, be honest. Am I acting silly, or are some memories simply disposable?

#Lesson for today: There's no point in acting sweet, they can't see through us anyway.

Mise - En - Scene (or Sauuuuun)

2010-02-14T22:30:00.003+05:30

A film festival does not just come up on it's own.

It takes a bunch of dedicated & workaholic retards, sitting in front of an apple mac for two whole weeks, munching their way through endless packets of Hide & Seek.

It takes on nutty photoshopper working her way through numerous banners, posters and invites for no particular reason.

It takes one very, very harassed media committee enduring all kinds of insults on the phone.

It takes a hapless food committee running samosas from one place to another.

And let's not forget, your SOUL.

#Lesson for today: Gah!

2010-01-24T22:10:00.003+05:30

When Carroll wrote the following

"Question: How does a girl who falls - no, actually she jumps - eyes open down a rabbit hole, plummeting into chaos, come out the other end unchanged?

The Answer: She doesn't.

See, I know, because that girl is me."

He must have known an awful lot about us girls. Because, it seems that we love nothing more than rabbit holes, chaos and jumping into endlessly tiring situations with eyes wide open.

#Lesson for today: Adventure, is where you least expect it.

Did you hear about the lemons?

2010-01-22T23:30:00.002+05:30

I get really obsessed once in a while with the lemons. I make families, couples and sweet little children that I refuse to make into lemonade. Then mum scolds me. We now get our to-be-consumed lemons from the market. They're impersonal, it seems.

"Lemon Party"

(I like to use 30 Rock Quotes as much as possible)

#Lesson for today: Lemon Art will be famous one day.

Love again?

2010-01-18T23:07:00.004+05:30

What's red & grey, slightly frostbitten and contemplating a pink theme for the mobile?

A girl parading as the lemons she so adores.

Nothing makes me happier than finding a blog, a book or even a simple line that makes me feel like I've known the author forever. Today I found This Dude! :). The guy makes me swoon and kind of feel lovey-dovey. Which consequently is wonderful, since I have decided to get over all my loser ex's and get a new 'un to torture.

It does not help to know that I have become notorious/infamous for my rather off-topic remarks while the environment is romantic. Examples include the term 'germs' being frequently used and seriously considering the effects of Saddam's assassination during romantic activities. Ingrown toe nails have made an appearance as well.

#Lesson for today: Nokia and Ovi Store are a bitch.

Hemorrhoid

2010-01-09T00:09:00.002+05:30

I just called one of my friends a Hemorrhoid. I feel awesome. And Witty. And oh-so-pretty.

#Lesson for the day: Friends who let you call them a Hemorrhoid are the ones truly worth keeping. :D

Rambles

2010-01-03T22:25:00.002+05:30

Dilli is Chilly right now. Not that I'm noticing it all that much because I've been under a blanket next to a radiator in full force for a majority of the week now. In fact, I've been feasting on all the "Cold-Weather-Food-Specials" that mummy and dad could conjure up for sometime now. No reasons to complain about the weather, so far. And I refuse to believe that Gurgaon is colder than Delhi.

I have this perfect lime coloured sweater that has been evading mother's habit of yearly woolen disposal for the better part of the decade. It's snug and shapeless, just the way I like my woollies. It also has this over powering affinity to all kinds of stains. I wear pure snow-white sweaters for three four days without any sort of dirt sticking onto its surface. The yellow one, on the other hand is sent off to the dry cleaners after a mere six hours of being worn.

It also has come to my attention that this month, my lemon loving-ness will turn a year old. Aah, to be a year old again. I miss all the gurgling and short term memory span.

#Lesson for today: Choosing friends and what food to eat are two of the most difficult choices I face each day.

Saved

2009-12-16T00:18:00.002+05:30

Lemon Girl's Dad Randomly Talking:
Noooo. Lemons and green text don't go together well. Too bright and flashy.
The picture is too sad. Dead almost. Let's get a new one.
Not the best design, but it'll have to do. I wonder what the fascination for lemons is about..

Meanwhile, Lemon Girl is shitting in her pants.
Dad then calls Lemon Girl.
Lemon Girl prepares to bid the internet, mobile phone and all else that loved her goodbye.

Lemon Girl Says: Yes Dad? What about the lemons?

Lemon Girl's Dad: I just discovered

Lemon Girl (cutting in): I can explain.

Lemon Girl's Dad: You can? Good. Because these new posters for the office walls look very badly designed to me. Is it new-age art or something?

Lemon Girl develops a look of permanent incredulity on her face.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend

2009-12-10T15:17:00.001+05:30

When I said it’s over, I meant it.
You were and will be one of my closest friends.
I still think you’re insanely annoying.
Please do not put me in a funk with your sweet talks.
There is no future for us.
Oh what did you say? Yes indeed, I would like to make out.

#Lesson for today: Oh well. Sometimes we never learn.

(My absence was because Blogger is far too important to sort out blog malfunctions for moi.)

Bad, bad, booze

2009-11-28T00:59:00.002+05:30

Sleepovers can be the best times you will ever have with friends. Experience dictates that this possible only if people sleep by 1 am. Any later, the alcohol will take effect and lead to emotional outbursts and heavy confessions that become heart breaking. You feel betrayed and entrenched in a swirling pit of feelings that do not belong to your own heart.

Realizing, that you have unknowingly worn a mask of impenetrable happiness for so long that people feel you talk about problems only to make your friends feel like they are not alone in sadness. Being proud, of having unwittingly fulfilled the one dream your parents had for you. And then wanting to rebel and disillusion them.

Alcohol is not meant for everybody. Especially those who cocoon themselves up to a point that they forget what they were hiding from.

#Lesson for today: I can handle my alcohol and my shit without keeping myself bottled up. It's apparently a skill.

Sanity

2009-11-23T16:56:00.001+05:30

Waste not, Want not?

Poll

2009-11-17T17:01:00.003+05:30

New Blog Look is:

No longer new. Just keeping a different header.

The colour scheme is back, in face of disapproval from everybody. I didn't even know some of these people read the damn blog. :D

Men and dogs should be ashamed

2009-11-15T18:57:00.002+05:30

It's no surprise that men and dogs are so often compared to each other.

When men and dogs go out and have riotous love affairs with women, no one raises an eyebrow. It's expected of them, is it not? That they shall forever be casanova's and reign o'er the world of us women with power?

And when women have nothing more than a casual chat with another man/dog, we are questioned and sniffed with an air of hurt and sorrow that can surpass Macbeth. The eccentricity of it all. When shall it end?

#Lesson for today: Don't go for those puppy eyes. They're very clever.

Mothers!!!

2009-11-13T00:02:00.002+05:30

It's not like I particularly want an easy life devoid of any global consciousness, but for the love of Christ I need one right now.

Me and father are very environmentally conscious and off late having been making attempts to reduce the carbon footprint and conserve water. We also donate a small sum towards animal conservation; GreenPeace et al. Mother's daily water consumption could save a decent hand holding in Vidarbha from drought. I shit you not. The woman simply dumps water like it was garbage. Not to mention the amount of plastic bottles she leaves in the trail behind her. And if we stopped her purchases of clothes each month, we could in effect donate a lot more to charity than we are at the moment.

But being the classist, elitist, uncaring, unconcerned, "I-Shall-Live-In-My-Shell" person that she has become, our fights will continue for many more years to come.

#Lesson for today: Parents. Selfish, Socially Unaware, Irresponsible. And then they have the nerve to tell us off.

Oh, the beauty.

2009-11-05T21:59:00.001+05:30

Your fairy is called Gossamer Moonweb

She is the moon goddess's messenger.

She lives in spider-webbed wonderlands and insect grottos.

She is only seen in the mist of an early morning.

She wears tiny black spiders on her dresses. She has beautiful blue butterfly wings.

Get your free fairy name here!

#Lesson for today: I'm starting to accept my friend's conclusion that I am an evil thing.

Behold a moth

2009-11-03T01:21:00.002+05:30

Visualize, if you will, a sweet little moth who has harmed no one during its small and inconsequential life on the planet. Imagine it fluttering peacefully amidst the tempting world of darkness and staying firm on its path. Suddenly, out of nowhere the hand of fate (or the neighbourhood cat) strikes and grabs the moth.

Imagine, its wings now lay broken and it bleeds away all it had accumulated in the name of life. It opens its mouth to speak but only broken rattles escape, reminiscent of the ghost from Grudge. Grim Reaper arrives, counting down the last minutes of life as a frenzied panic erupts in the heart of the moth. The realization of death is not easy to bear.

Imagine it gulping for air and softly dying, losing the precious shine from eyes, one Microsoft word page at a time. Imagine, the cruel world laughing at its feeble attempts to wake up and live. One last time, struggle to live.

Now imagine, that little moth is me doing research.

My papa

2009-10-31T23:27:00.002+05:30

My dear, darling Father can make an entire mall collectively shit in their pants. He positively terrorizes hawkers and can be quite gruff with errant waiters. All of this without even realizing what he's done. To begin with, the man can bargain. He can make one of those toughened Sabzi Mandi bargaining bitch women look like unsophisticated amateurs. It probably has something to do with that voice of his. It's a deep baritone, with a ringing clarity to it. It makes matters worse for the salesmen when he addresses them in very courteous language. It's almost like; my father is one of those specimens they warn you about.

He'll also somehow manage to convey the fact that he will walk away with the merchandize for free, in case stipulated terms and conditions are not met. In most cases, you can be sure to meet the manager of the store. He made the CCD chap regret the day he filled out an application form for the job position. I'm past the point of getting embarrassed; I end up giggling hysterically and passing sympathetic looks to the other person.

And once all the terrorizing is over, we get great deals and freebies. He's fun.

#Lesson for today: My papa can be awesome.

Oh Shyt.

2009-10-23T22:21:00.002+05:30

I just saw some women being turned on and suitably seduced by Mithun Da sucking on her leg.

And then I saw Ravi Behl being turned on and suitably seduced by the ugliest of them village-not-so-belles.

I may never be able to regain my ability to be sexually excited again.

#Lesson for today: Avoid such movies. They ruin sex lives.

The thing is..

2009-10-17T20:16:00.002+05:30

I hate Diwali. Totally & Absolutely do.

Bloody Noise. Bloody Pollution. Bloody Irritating TV Specials.

I am cranky every single Diwali and have not broken the tradition this year. I shall be extremely thankful when this entire festivity ends. I miss pathos and general suffering. Even the terrorists ditched me this time around.

Still, I'll be nice for once.

Hope all of you have a wonderful day.

Things I thought I should be done with by the time I turned 19:

2009-10-14T20:37:00.002+05:30

[x] Fallen in Love with Mr. Darcy again

[x] Done something inexplicably stupid

[x] Develop my own brand of humour and quirk

[x] Grossed 200 people out with a single sentence

[x] Had a "I was so close to Death" story

[x] Had a 'when I was your age' conversation with somebody two years younger to me

[x] Been obsessed with random pop culture

[x] Ripped apart boy band posters

[x] Randomly mutilate my eyebrows

[x] Fallen in Love

[x] Burnt somebody's hair

[x] Etch out a day-to-day existence on acerbic wit, satirical humour and higher intellect. (xkcd, cyanide & happiness, daisy owl and batman)

[x] Quoted internet humour

[x] Done/Watched something nerdy (Star Trek, Halo 3)

[x] Played on an Xbox 360 and PSP

[x] Looked simply stop-eating-food-gorgeous.

[x] Done something so girly that testosterone ran away screaming from my body

[ ] Being awarded the Nobel.

Sigh, I feel like such a failure. But, if they can give to Obama then I wonder.

#Lesson for today: There is always that one thing in life you can't achieve in time. Acceptance comes gradually.

King Juuuuulian.

2009-10-10T20:59:00.003+05:30

Yeah Yeah. So I wanna sing this song all day & all night long.

#Lesson for today: Lemurs is where the fun's at.

Today

2009-10-07T00:18:00.002+05:30

Today I look at you, with a claim to be fine that you love another woman. You take a step back and say with all the confidence in the world, "We'll be fine, I'll always love you". You make a motion to hug me, but I move back. Part fear and part lust compels me to stay away. Sometimes distance is the only cure we seek.

As the rain works its way down my hair, I recall with clarity the day. Our first kiss, the first embrace after what seems like forever. The first admission of reality. This silence has not been easy on either of us. You chide me for what I start to explain, you know all of it already. I come as no surprise, just relief. Welcome peace and relief.

With the dance of the morning rays comes a new problem for us. She still exists, even if miles away. You stand nearer than before but I choose to blur your face. You don't take to being forgotten kindly. We smile, we laugh and we pretend like everything is the same as it was before. The only difference is that once we desired and now it has been reduced to an I. You'll always have her by your side while I love from afar, playing back the moments in my mind.

No my darling, it wasn't a mistake. You were conscious of every movement of the wind. Me of my place right by your side. It was meant to be, I'd once announced. How restless you had been. A lover, a friend, a spare soul sometimes even. But now, months have passed. Kisses forgotten, languid love songs exchanged and hummed into the night. Flirtatious giggles have dissolved in a sudden, singular tear.

Today I decide to let you go. Make sure you never mean more to me than my best friend, no strings attached.

And today you show me why you claim to be mean. You make it impossible to give it up. You refuse to be given up.

I confess..

2009-10-06T00:14:00.002+05:30

I have a thing for men with:
~ sarcastic natures
~ commitment issues
~ 'a quality' that makes everybody perceive them as gay and
~ careless, rude, self-effacing yet charming demeanours.
(or Chandler Bing, Jane Austen/Bronte Sisters/Georgette Heyer's male characters and Oscar Wilde)

Off late, this has been extended to serial killers based in Miami, Florida.

There, can I have my perfect man now?

#Lesson for today: Yes, mother was perfectly right in being extremely worried about my taste in men.

I’m bored now

2009-09-27T10:26:00.001+05:30

After being subjected to the most moronic people possible in my department and the cynical stylings of many close friends, I can declare that our fest is over. O-V-E-R.

Now I can relax, lay waste to all the banners and spare posters and most importantly, start living on diet of something other than chole bature and momos. My sudden sugar and caffeine cravings have subsided. I no longer wake up in cold sweat, having dreamt of goblins eating ice creams on Farooque Shaikh's head. Although, that would have been an apt sight, considering all the money he made us spend. I vow, with all of you regular readers as my witness that when I become famous, I shall not charge educational institutions for a plane ticket. Or at the very least, wear a rather large sun bonnet and be content to sign autographs throughout the flight.

#Lesson for today: Let loose the goblins.

Ze first

2009-09-18T01:58:00.003+05:30

Sign of true success in life is,

A Hate Mail.

Ain't it awesome?

Now that I have finally finished gloating, I can proudly say that I am getting hate mails from people in my department. Most of them regarding the fest, taking place soon. The rest, overtly personal and written in some really bad English. Makes me wonder what'll happen to the college magazine. *Wink Wink*.

Im feeling particularly happy as of now and am thinking of breaking my rule about not mentioning names on the blog. I'll take a poll. If three people say yes, I'll post the mail here. As an added bonus, the reply I sent as well. Or if that seems far too bitchy, I could just forward it your email. Now, wouldn't that be fun?

#Lesson for today: If you're used to being a pampered princess at home, don't expect the same shyt from me.

@ 2 weeks

2009-09-13T14:35:00.003+05:30

The auditorium curtains need changing and I shall lead the quest for "expensive-curtains-from-SN-that-are-available-at-perfectly-reasonable-prices-elsewhere".

I may not have bought in any sponsorships as such, but I sure am working my ass off when it comes to moral support and thumbs up for all.

I will lose my precious l'il mind in all this publicity and poster business. Especially since I feel lazy.

And when boredom strikes, the devil comes out to play. *Evil Grin*

#Lesson for today: Chardonny Semillion, Yum Yum!

Bad ways to get things done

2009-09-11T21:23:00.000+05:30

You know how sometimes you're listening to instructions and then suddenly blank out? You'll be able to run down the whole list except for the most important detail in the end. If it hasn't happened to you, rest assured it will. It's a common phenomenon especially when the mind would much rather ponder upon the mysterious of how rocks end up in the canteen food.

Now, I've heard that some people also have chronic amnesia for a certain type of task. No matter how many times you explain it to them, they'll still manage to fuck it up. Not that it's ever their fault, y'know. Their brains simply can't take all this information and use it. Like the way you're never going to use all that crap you mugged up for the final exams.

Now, let's see somebody combine these two things together and what will you get? In simple terms: Me.

As my department teachers/presidents/the population in general starts to trust me enough with shit loads of work, they realize that I can't do something right beyond three instructions. You'll be lucky I did some part of the third instruction at all. I won't cite chronic amnesia as an excuse. I think it's a mix of the two conditions stated above. I can't help it, I happen to have a very imaginative and restless mind.

#Lesson for today: Someday hopefully, people will start instructing me in pairs. Till then, it's your headache. I'll just smile and go with the (by now forgotten) flow.

Oh department fest o' mine

2009-09-05T19:18:00.002+05:30

Department Fest! Department Fest!
What are they doing to you?
Department Fest! Department Fest!
It'ssss not your faultttt!

They keep saying you're the best,
You're obviously not their favourite fest
You make me work my ass off everyday
I could have gotten thinner some other way

Department Fest! Department Fest!
What are they doing to you?
Department Fest! Department Fest!
It'ssss not your faultttt!

#Lesson for today: Im shit tired of this fest work. I should have retired when I was young.

Shimla

2009-08-26T19:28:00.000+05:30

As the title of this blog suggests, I like lessons. And not just the ones I’ve learnt under this lemon tree of mine. Shimla, as it turns out is a wonderful place to learn your lessons. Whether they are of the variety of “things one must never attempt during a trek” or what I learnt about being me, it had ‘em all.

To start with, Himachal University looks like a dream lost in the mist. The architecture is brilliant and so is their library. The place is a photographer’s dream come true. Even if we did just spend an hour there, it’s been coming back to me everyday with the aura of a dead lover who will not be forgotten. The staircases are especially ancient looking, with many a couple writing an eternal saga on its steps.

Moving on from the University was hard, but it had to be done. Following that, we decided to take an impromptu trek without informing anybody in the hotel. Absurd as that was, considering my fear of heights and clumsy nature, the feeling of freedom was unmistakable. Even the mushroom we spent some 10 minutes photographing, had an air of carelessness to it. All signs of the uncluttered and beautiful mountain life, said the Father who blessed me and two other friends. We met him in a small, one room church hidden amongst the money registers of Mall Road. Run entirely on donations, the small prayer we attended has changed some part of me forever.

Mall Road was another surprise. In some four years, it’s gone from being a fierce cottage industry case review for the hills to just another brand engulfed market. Not surprisingly, the best time there came from what our guide declared to be “useless parts of the market”. After all, we are the type of kids who’ll never listen to given reason. Lower Bazaar and Indian Coffee House live on in our taste buds. While the wood market presented some unique memories to boot.

So maybe Solan wasn’t at its best but the “tandoori” Manchurian still beats all. More than anything, Shimla was a testament to the stark difference between us and them. We never referred to ourselves as a ‘group’ and we still won’t. We’ve seen that being a group has more pitfalls than love in it and to be honest, we can live without that tag. I believe we were always people who liked each others company and were closer to some over others. We remain till date, the same. No compromises made. And in the small hotel room, we learnt the good, the bad and the value of that.

#Lesson for today: Cheers to the place that taught us so much. With love, to Shimla.

Updates

2009-08-21T19:59:00.002+05:30

The battle against the mess that is my room has been temporarily abandoned, on account of me having caught the flu. Not swine, hopefully.

I promise a long and rambling post about travelling soon. Soon being whenever I can sit straight at the laptop for longer than fifteen minutes.

Errant random thoughts.

2009-08-18T23:09:00.002+05:30

I'm back from the running away process. I feel much better, catharsis happened in a way. I shall ramble long and hard about Shimla very soon. As of now, I'm recovering from a not-so-swine-flu.

But more than anything right now, thank you God, for leading me to that church. Some miracles happened there in those brief moments.

Muaah! To all. :)

And yet again

2009-08-11T22:34:00.002+05:30

I don't come online much these days. I've stopped eating dinner. I drink 4 glasses of water in a sitting and like feeling oddly destructive towards nothing in general. I could do very well with some amnesia right now and ranting here is the only thing that helps.

But by the time I get around to typing something, my anger and frustration has given way to an incessant tiredness of mind. Mother & Father are at it again, after having humiliated me in front of some five hundred people.

I'm going away soon for some respite. I need it. I may not be coming back. But don't worry, I won't leave without a goodbye.

#Lesson for today: Life is shitty.

Soon enough

2009-08-03T02:30:00.001+05:30

On the 4^th of August, at precisely 7pm IST, the epic saga of Lemon Girl vs. The Mess In Her Room begins. You shall remain updated regularly.

#Lesson for today: There are very few petrol pumps in South Delhi. Hmmph.

Is there mercy?

2009-07-27T18:35:00.001+05:30

The chance is here, I should take it
But I leave it far coz I can't fake it.

Do I need to shout out for mercy
Can't you just come and shoot me?
When very last sensation of pain is near
Then tell me there is nothing to fear.

Inked blotches on the page of life
As if there was something to hide.
Thrills me to be torn apart and then
The serenity of being whole again.

Does life come with pain or happiness
Juxtaposing a smile with sadness.

Yes, I still have a bad toothache. It hurts like all hell put together. And the painkillers have me doped up & hallucinating. Enough to make me write poetry like that. It's vaguely like Alternative Grunge. I don't know the the shit I wrote, but if it makes sense to you then more power to ya! Enjoy and tell me if you get a word.

#Lesson for today: Teeth.Can.Hurt. Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

'Effing toothache

2009-07-26T16:16:00.004+05:30

I have the worst tooth day ever.

One side has an errant wisdom tooth. The other just got two fillings. The upper jaw cannot chew food on its own.

#Lesson for today: Bloody Teeth! Get friggin' dentures people.

I (haven’t) lost that loving feeling

2009-07-23T23:11:00.004+05:30

You still blow me away with those eyes of yours. Every time I enter a room, I know you'll be there looking at me. With that perfect innocent expression once again. It doesn't escape my notice y'know, I can tell you've done something wrong. I still forgive you. Your eyes still make me love.

I want it to be the last time that your butterfly kisses sway me over. The touch of your hair makes me happy, I hate it and I love you more. I want it to be the last time that I snuggle up to you but you move away. Unconsciously conscious of my lightest touch.

I love the way you worry when I'm home late from college. You pretend not to care, but I can see you missed me when I'm not around for that long. You hate the way I sing and the way I make you waltz with me. Don't think I can't see the look in your eyes when I clear my throat even. Yes, you make me crazy in love and crazier still.

You don't want me to talk for too long on the phone with my friends. They can hear your mumbling grudges. They say nothing. I tell them, you're the cutest. You are, you are the best there ever could be. For without you, I can't be happy for long. I miss you much. Even though you're here, you can be so far away.

For without you my dog, my lowve, I am not the quintessential dog lover that I am known to be.

(P.S. No boy-friends, boyfriends or boys in general would ever make go eloquent and love-lorn like that)

#Lesson for today: I A.D.O.R.E. my dog. He's the best.

So I hear

2009-07-09T10:39:00.001+05:30

Mumma told me I'm scary. Why?

Apparently last night I was talking in my sleep again and muttering something about how I am a much better actress than Helena Bonham Carter. And I was doing all of this in an old-British-lady accent. With the over pronounced 'you' and everything.

Funny, I didn't even know I resented Carter.

#Lesson for today: Sleep more, since you can be much better than Helena Bonham Carter that ways.

In defence of Karma…

2009-07-06T10:25:00.002+05:30

Not that it needs any form of defence.

Karma works, it exists. I don't say that simply because I don't want to admit that I am responsible directly for all that does not go right for me. You can see it happening. Let's the take the example of 4 countries how their Karma is working in overdrive.

1. The USA
They had everything going right for them till they decided to bomb Japan and ruin Vietnam. They tried to interfere where they didn't belong and forgot that they maybe a superpower but they are still a very young country. Almost like a small child who wants too much. Post 2000, they have had every kind of bad karma upon them. Just when they thought it's over, the Iraq war came back to haunt them via recession. Maybe now, USA just might learn.

2. Britain
They were imperialists who were not ready to let the world be. They brought on a lot of wars and a lot of sadness to many. They were defeated many times over. Their entire history has been a Karmic war. They have suffered as much as they have made others suffer. Britain is now a shadow of what it used to be and invariably less happy than its European counterparts.

3. India
We've led a good life and then a bad life. We've been on a roller coaster of luck. At the end of it all, we are still boorish and uncultured but we spit at those who remind us of what goes on inside our homes. Indian students being attacked in Australia, I call that Karma for being such a louts and low life's when dealing with the North Easterners and foreigners.

4. Pakistan
A few bad decisions made by one power hungry man has led to their complete destruction. There is civil strife and terrorists. Allegations and shame faced admissions. There is death to those who least deserve it. It is their Karma but I still cannot help wonder if it isn't simply the bad wishes of those who live across their border.

To those who might be wondering, I'm not big into Karma or anything. This just kind of struck me on a long drive back home.

#Lesson for today: Maybe, just maybe the things you will do can come back to you. Why take a chance?

It’s Official

2009-06-24T11:54:00.001+05:30

I have developed a nervous tic coz of the never ending fear of being caught doing something absolutely unproductive by the boss man. Not that they would kick me out or sacrifice me to the goat gods if they did catch me. I lack the ability to fully process even the simplest of instructions. If it's a two step process, be sure I shall forget one. If it's just the one step, I'll forget the whole thing. Adding to that, Logic is a bully and continually kicks my ass.

It's actually interesting to see the look on my boss's face when he realized I have goofed something again, in face of tremendous odds. It's like, lightning striking at the same place, process, person etc, a few times now. I keep no less than five windows open, with at least two spreadsheets and one company-website-related page. And then I fall into a music-coma when they are calling me. Makes not for a good impression, I can tell you that.

I wonder if home made brownies and some cake would impress them…

#Lesson for today: Note to Lemon Girl – WORK instead of writing posts cribbing about work

Office.. Sigh..

2009-06-20T17:12:00.000+05:30

Well me lovelies, I have an announcement. i jest you not, but I have finally taken up an internship. At an actual office - doing office related things - work work - type of internship. I somehow, unimaginably so, got bored of snoozing my ass off. Day after day after day.

I won't say its not fun because it is actually good fun for an office job. But it's not my kinda job. To be honest, my kinda job is strictly being given creative freedom to pursue what ever the heck I want, which is why I had my sights set on being a columnist for so long. A little more than a week at the job, people seem to recognize me. I suppose that is a good thing. Im not exactly the best at making new friends. I wait for the misfits to gravitate towards me. But I digress.

Im doing well here, with funny bosses and PMS-prone colleagues. For the life of me, I don't understand exactly why I feel my boss thinks I'm a dodo. Maybe it has something to do with the deer-in-headlights look I get when he comes calling. He wears a nice deodorant though. Makes it nice having him stand above my head. Maybe I'm crushing on him. Then again, that's normal.

#Lesson for today: My boss and all other bosses luuurrrrvvvveee Spreadsheets. Learn Them!