That was yesterday’s post, which did not happen. The bus ride wasn’t the least bit tiresome. This scruffy looking chap with a dholak got on the same bus and insisted on singing to me. He kind of knelt down in the aisle next to my seat facing me and sang me two songs. The first one I didn’t get at all even though it was in hindi. The second was a bhajan. That I could tell from the om namah shivays. Then right before my bus stop he got up, did this theatrical bow and with a cheery wave was off. So that needless to say totally made my day. The session was fun. Weird though it may sound but chairing UN assemblies is second nature to me. Muggins can almost climb to the top of the tallest tree in the park outside. She just ate this beautiful silvery rather large moth. Vicious little thing. Feeling tired but happy. Dad’s leaving for Kenya tomorrow. Also have to go to IHC for Ecoforum. That’s this Delhi university economics societies get together to form one big economics society thing. Each college’s sending two representatives for the Working Committee and the president of each ecosoc within the college gets to be member of the core committee. So Bunny and I’ve been chosen to represent daaarling LSR in the WC. Woo fucking hoo. Should be fun though. The concept behind is to get real bigwigs in the field of economics (we’re talking Amartya Sen, Mukesh Ambani types) to come and speak because there’s no way they’d come to an individual college. And that is what the Ecoforum does.

Muggins attracts way too many children. Filthy little vermin. It’s not like she enjoys them either, for they don't really want to play with her. They want to "hold her" or pat her head with their palm pressed down a little too firmly on her head or throw the bottle near her to watch her play football (yeah, she does that really well). Nasty cloying little things. And one of them started calling her Princes Pussy today (ha ha V). They’re all "Didi use bulao na."
Though her father turns up very often. And she runs after him like crazy while he just looks at her and ignores her. It’s horribly heartbreaking. Did I tell you her parents abandoned her? Her and this other sibling of hers (who fell into the hands of some filthy scummy children and died as a consequence) while the mother kept this one kitten (what is she supercat or something to have made the cut?).
All kids and most other animals are being treated with revulsion and paranoia respectively. I find it crazy often but we have this ritual which makes everything hunky dory. Everyday she sits on my lap for 1-2 hours when she’s tired her tiny self out being a crazy kitten before going to sleep. I talk to her and tell her all sorts of nonsense (most of it’s true) and then ma comes and sings her a lori. By the end of the whole production she can barely keep her eyes open.
It’s so great having this chance at unconditional love. Simpler. Though ma said something about me needing to know grief related to having a pet. *Blocks pointless stupid thought*
Quite sleepy. First mock session tomorrow. Translates into lot of tiresome travelling in buses. Still not quite over statistics fiasco. Must pray to god to not let brain die. Must find wholesome beautiful girl to settle down with. Matrimonial in order?

Also if I continue this way my thumb will be reduced to a bloody stump.
I can't seem to stop. Looks quite gruesome.

Dumbening

Feeling quite uppity. Made quite spectacularly stupid mistakes in what should have been an easy test. Maybe my brain is slowly disintegrating, slowly becoming gurgling mulch. I try and have this equanimity, this I-don't-care-about-foolish-things-as-internal-assessment but honestly I'm a true blue nerd. I'm not used to bad grades. Bad grades are for stupid people.
*sigh*

Pent up nervous energy. Don't know what to do. Smiling & laughing alot. Drank half a glass of Frooti over 4 hours. Weird weird weird. Did have a lovely walk home though. You know the ones where the weather is just right, the distance perfect and where you have this smile on your face which is just making people stare at you, yeah ? That kind. Have all but given up writing longhand. Listening to Fight Club Soundtrack for the infinite time. Infinite is not a number. It's a tendency.

I want to talk to K. I used to ferret out G for she somehow always had the exact same mood as mine. It made things a lot easier. It slowed you down in the easiest way possible. In moods like this I can picture myself scraping the paint off the wall with my fingernails. (sounds sodding painful)
Fight Club soundtrack helps no one. It puts you in this edgy place where you attack people. And want knives. I don't particularly appreciate being reminded that "this is my life" which is "finishing one minute at a time". Blame me for being restless ?
Typing far too fast.

Well I'm licenced now. I can drive very very fast down roads and mess with probability. "Break-neck speed"

This is reminding me of when I was on acid. Only w/out the paranoia. Haven't heard Groove Armada in longest time ever. Muggins is seeming tinier like she's shrunk. And ma insists we're overfeeding her. Oh she's two months old and a Libran. That's the ram ? Or the scales ?
Acid green quilt in room. WARM ! Like toast. Want to go driving down NH1. Brilliant road. Brilliant speeds. Ah well.

Blurry

Sa Vidya Ya Vimuktaye (might have got that rong) -Only that is knowledge that sets you free.
(Get it ? Anuva ? Knowledge ?)

Red squidges against the backdrop of tightly clenched eyes. "I'm staying in character with blue crush on my eyelids." Seperate rooms for seperate armies. She lost hers to dance. Must get knife, crossbow or gun.
Log of a vicious bored sadistic restless college student, how fucked up is this ? Saw her give her sanctity, sanity and self on a silver platter to a person so cruel that you feel so bad for her and your helplessness. All rockets need launchpads. You'll just have to be mine. Vaccilating b/w viciousness & vulnerability. Such is life. And if you leave me I'm a Goddess.
Keep it coming.

Love Song

[The bullet:]
"I've got a crush on a pretty pistol
should I tell her that I feel this way?
Father told us to be faithful
I've got a crush on a pretty pistol
should I tell her that I feel this way
I've got love songs in my head
that are killing us away"

[The Father:]
"do you love your
guns?" (yeah)
"god?"
(yeah)
"your government?"

"do you love your
guns?"
(yeah)
"god?"
(yeah)
"your government?"
(fuck yeah)

[The bullet:]
"She tells me I'm a pretty bullet
I'm gonna be a star someday
Mother says that we should look away
She tells me I'm a pretty bullet
an Imitation Christ
I've got love songs in my head
that are killing us away"

[The Father:]
"do you love your
guns?"
(yeah)
"god?"
(yeah)
"your government?"
(fuck yeah)

Happy Eid all

Being self-sufficient works out rather well. I’ve decided that the average Indian husband is a pretty sorry creature- unexciting, uninspiring, untutored. On an unrelated note while it doesn’t bring you happiness it (the blue one) sure as hell cushions your sorrow.
So what are the big plans for the day? We will start by going someplace where we usually do, be astonished that an old dear-best-friend type could be that poisonous about current dear-best-friend type, drink lots, laugh at each other (usually we gang up, him & I on just about everybody), talk about everything that needs to be aired out and bring out all that doesn’t also while we’re at it and top it off with a bout of warm-fuzzy-feeling time where everybody loves everybody to pieces. Ugh. It sounds so blasé in words but it’s the invariable pattern. And it can be quite good fun. Though this is what I’m not willing to trade for anybody/thing/place. I’ve had them (the more permanent ones, not my flavours of the month who usually are forgotten after the stipulated time) since forever and though this wearisome pattern hasn’t really changed since we were some 15 years of age, I think the day I’m tired of them I will be tired of my life. The cement that holds the Parcheesi in place is scattered all over. Like the times when I’ve had nothing to do with myself but curl into C’s chest and laugh at each other’s whininess till we’ve cleaved it all away and just left relatively free.

I don’t think I’m being very honest here. I’m generally too seasoned a liar for much to seem amiss but this blog is losing its sense of purpose. It needs to be destroyed.
They’ve all gone back for a bit and I’m miserable about it. Too melodramatic and too emotional for my own good. All the grand passions and histrionics. How do you do that while doing the bulletproof? Maybe with all my contradictions I’ll just conveniently cancel myself out. Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away.