*Smash!Wham!Bang!*

An important notice:I'm in college,so screw them who refer me to as 'the kid'.Hard to accept or whatever OR whatever!Plus point is,I might not eventually emerge as the 'she goes bi the way'.It doesn't come 'that' close to the paradise I always wanted to be in,blame the polls,yea somehow it's related with the figures that ruined my life.I should have seen that coming and switched over to CBSE.I wallow in self-pity,self-pity because I worked hard and I'm more fucked up than all of us together.Those who have the feeling of vengeance and [now]accomplishment are happy[I pray that you all end up with bloody impotents].Don't get me wrong,I'm NOT in a lousy college but I'm not in my dream-college either.
And ohh,a few days back I worte an essay somewhere about some blogosphere and narcissim and as I read my older posts,I know why I chose it over other viable options.
Sad part is,I'll have to sacrifice my niceties,fit myself and my things in a gloomy PG and fight with people for my share of oxygen.I'm not even excited anymore.Every night I plan to make a list of things I'll need and then go shopping the next day.I still am unplanned and I haven't shopped for a thing and I'm leaving on 12th.I demand my food,bed and pet!Why can't the benefits of being in a cool college co-exist with benefits of living a comfortable life?It's always been the same with me.I'll whine for something until I get it and then whine because I want to rid myself off it.Fact:I don't want to attend college.Why did you even read this post?

I can't solve the mystery of disappearing phone balance and I stopped poking fun at those people who talk on phone at night.I've joined their league.I talk from almost midnight and yawn sometime at 2.
A general idea of how my room looks like:
A bed without a bed cover so that I can 'plunge' in.Plunge because it has my denims,stacked newspaper of the whole week almost,'mah iPod','mah phone',umm..and Joseph and Myall.
My chairs,one has all the cushions of the other chairs,another has a heap of clothes and one has a bag.
'Mah table' has admission forms and the re-printed version of admission forms.My old man has gone bonkers and writes things like "EVE Purkayastha" beside "Name of the applicant" and makes me re-print the same sheet.I have three different types of passport and stamp sized photos because:one has a sad eyebrow,one has bad hair,and the other looks like a boho.Ohh wait,there's this book which I started reading with a lot of enthusiasm too:The Gita For the Youth.And occult books,yes.A few superstitions that go with me.And I have an upturned dustin,that was done so to trap roaches,there are two captives.Haw haw haw!
And jobless?Yes,very.

I made it a point to blog after I figured that my baby sister is growing up to be anything but me.And 'me' is a better option than the other 'me's in my village.This is a frustating issue for me,that she's fast turning into those I grew up hating(well...mostly all):She's being uber-idiotic.She changes the clothes of the sorority slut:Barbie dolls 10 times a day,she plays Hannah Montana and I just figured that her wardrobe shouts PINK!I know she's a kid,in my days I'd watch scoobie do,swat cats and Captain Planet and Jhonny Quest,yes.I mean those are way too presentable!Hannah Montana is okhay to watch,what's the point of playing it[read:applying make-up in her fucked up face].This is depressing!She's going to belong to the 'in crowd' soon,and the in crowd people figure out everything a decade later.
Mr.God is bigot!Murphy's Law applies to every friggin case in my life,why?What's so interesting in popping my tiny dream bubble.I mean why target me out of million others?Plus,I was in the blood donation camp last night with friends and we saw someone uber cute.This is diabolical because I have become an anti-crush machine,I'll make "^_^" faces but never seem to have a crush.WHY?
And I always seem to bump into the people I wanted to ignore all my life.They bring out the atavistic nature[refer to crude stone age emotions]in me the moment they open their mouth.Before sleeping at night,I actually stare at the mirror and prepare a set of monologues that I want to say when I see them,interestingly whenever I meet them,the ratio is always 1:6 and I look weak,my legs shake,my nerves break into convulsions,I ignore them,swallow my monologues and try to be invisible.Well,Achilles had only an ankle and my every other body part is an Achilles-ankle.And though my larynx and tongue is wholly under my discretion,I choose to shut up.
And something's really wrong with my dysfunctional family,their only topic of discussion is college.I mean whoa whoa people,I am as concerned and interested in grabbing the life that my school-people sucked out of me.Can we just not shut up for a nano-second?There's this weird and utterly dumb habit of my mother,whenever I commit an error,be it venial,she'll remind me what I did in class 4 and then in pre-kg.If there's one person,who can time travel,she SURELY can.One of these days,if I turn on the web cam and commit suicide like the many other wannabes,it won't be too surprising for anyone.I like this blog page,this is the only thing that lets me rant.

I never had the slightest hint that this day would be a 'blogable' day.I switched to the blog mode from the memorable mode.That's totally in vogue now...I guess.So yea,we needed photocopies of our marksheets,migration and character certificates,etc for attestation and we were in the shop and then came a man reeking in liquor* started calling the wife whose name was tatooed[kudos to my observation] made a fool of himself,embarassed every sane human,made me tag myself as one of the fortunate ones who can spend a month without a caller,actually six.And then a random aunty freaked out because he slit his wrist.This is the climax of our drama.Trust me,if he didn't carry a knife,I'd have shot the whole episode and put it up on youtube.I have this weird habit of deriving pleasure from laughing at fucktards.I guess everyone does and incase you don't,go suck your thumb,pinky!Plus,he advised us not to get married.Before the baboon figured out the knowledge,I had already evolved the "Be Happy,Don't Marry" theory.Yea,yea fans,I know that my smartness overflows the beam of my brain.Yea,so slit wrist,lost 14 lakhs to wife,wife fled,pleasure gained,pretty day ended.Haw!One of the days when I can't get enough of being happy,hence a title.

*I never seem to sniff out the smell until someone does it for me.  :/

Allegory

One fine night,my father decided that I was old enough to have a personal phone and though I'd secretly prefer Armani shades,off we went merrily to buy a new phone for myself.We went,we saw,we conquered.I was happy and everything went well,until the phone woke me up from my lazy afternoon nap.I would have slept again,if it didn't vibrate with a new message on it.Point taken:Phones aren't always interesting.Single?Then ditch phone.

1 millions students,1 million dreams,1 million prayers and 1 million hopes.Maybe just 11000 prayers will be granted,how do I know if I qualify and most importantly why do I qualify?

A sad conversation:

Em:Something's wrong with me,I don't rhyme anymore,I can't read a zillion books within an hour anymore,I've lost the energy,I don't want to socialize.

Me:Ditto.I've lost myself somewhere.

Which is exactly what's happening,my heart's beating as fast as a rat's.And the "It's going to be okhay" phrase irritates me more than my Eco teacher's "You do it all the time" does.Everytime I try to sleep,a strident noise will wake me up-Vodaphone calling...My friends are uber-brilliant and that makes me feel like a loser beggar even more.It's sickening to feel inferior and I feel it all the time.

What's wrong with me,really?

I hate humans.I really hate them.Waai?Something's terribly wrong with me.Even a Let's-lunch-together doesn't interest me.I'm a dole bledger.Waai?I want to stay at home,stare at the ceiliing until my eyes emit gamma rays,stare at every inanimated object and stay happy.Sometimes I stare at the same page of some random book for hours,I read but I don't see.Even if Jude Law had to stare at me with those sexiest eyes ever,I'd still be blank.I don't even talk,when someone's dying,I won't even want to know the cause.But I talk.to.my.dog.a.lot!So if one fine day he had to say Goodmorning,I wouldn't be surprised.I'm inactive,literally.Worse,I don't even sleep.But I know the theme songs of all the Hungama TV cartoon shows.And I keep calling Motagorilla a Motahati.It's a random character of some random cartoon.I speak only the blood diamond accent.Probably they'll start paying me the unemployment dole someday.I've become a fish,I stopped blinking altogether.It's not boredom.I like it this way.I plan to run away frequently but the choice of which clothes to carry decimates the whole plan,backed by the weather ofcourse.It rains when I don't feel romantic.Yea,humans.I hate all.The bad ones,the good ones more.And the mirror,ugh.

'Night!