Thursday, 31 January 2013

I am a Child of Piracy**

Note:  This post might have nothing to do with the title.So if you're here looking for arguments to use against software pirates or something,you're at the wrong place mate!
And this post has a lot of unnecessary rambling which I was too proud of to edit but you’re free to skip paragraphs any time you feel like it’s getting boring and you won’t be missing anything. But I'll love you if you do manage to read the whole thing...*insert cute smile* or at least my best impression of cute...which ain’t very cute actually!
On with it!

I've run out of ideas.
The problem is nothing, I repeat, nothing I come up with is original, and every single thing is copied inspired by something or someone else.
I'm tired of constantly waking up and rooting through thoughts, words, actions, newspapers, books, movies, YouTube videos and everything under the sun for something I can talk about.
I surprise myself at times.
I have these weird slow motion visions in my head a lot these days.
I’ll be doing something, and all of a sudden, everything slows down and becomes ultra minute and clear and I’ll have writery phrases pop into my head to describe those...
For example:
Walking home after college:
Looking at a girl with a pretty looking tan on her face...sun kissed.
Which makes me...sun f**ked.

125 Fantastic Gifs To Stare At When You're High
Me...normally.Now you also stare...stare...stare.
I have a thing for beautiful people.
I’ll sometimes see this pretty person on a road or bus or train and I want to go up to them, tap their shoulder and tell them, “You know you’re gorgeous right?!” and in my head write a post describing them using Victorian phrases.

While making an omelette:
Eggs are the most forgiving things on earth because however badly you splatter them while pouring; they’ll always heal while cooking.
Didn't someone say there’s a lesson to be learnt in everything?

Heck even when I'm reading something for crying out loud:
I begin reading. Each word on the screen clamouring for my attention. Begin from the beginning. Milking each sentence for all it is worth.
I've never read this carefully before...sifting every sentence for layers or hidden meanings. Funny because I've never been a carefully-read kinda person.

You know you've hit rock bottom when you contemplate writing a blog-post on why you love the word ‘f**k’.
No kidding. This is how far I got:
Four letters. One syllable. This word has captured the imagination of everyone...and I love it.
I love the relief that comes with just yelling f**k...unparalleled. Except by maybe a few other cuss words. But I prefer this one. It’s pretty clear and unambiguous. And mostly everyone understands it.

This can be irritating. Since every single time I have to quickly run and grab something to record this on or I lose the train of thought.
Or it could possibly be what is called 'Getting an Idea'.
Yeah, I know. Certified crazy I am.

Back to why I can’t think of anything to write.
Keeping with the ‘ I'm a copycat pirate’ title here’s an extract from Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.
She is the kind of author who would capture your imagination and keep it in a tin box next to her bed and you’d only be glad for that... didn't stretch that too far did I?

The Definitive "Blown Away" Reaction Gifs
Me,after reading Gone Girl.

She shakes up a lot. I didn't know WHAT to think after reading this book. 

For several years, I had been bored. Not a whining, restless child’s boredom (although I was not above that) but a dense, blanketing malaise. It seemed to me that there was nothing new to be discovered ever again. Our society was utterly, ruinously derivative (although the word derivative as a criticism is itself derivative). We were the first human beings who would never see anything for the first time. We stare at the wonders of the world, dull-eyed, underwhelmed. Mona Lisa, the Pyramids, the Empire State Building. Jungle animals on attack, ancient icebergs collapsing, volcanoes erupting. I can’t recall a single amazing thing I have seen first-hand that I didn't immediately reference to a movie or TV show. A fucking commercial. You know the awful singsong of the blasé: Seeeen it. I've literally seen it all, and the worst thing, the thing that makes me want to blow my brains out, is: The second-hand experience is always better. The image is crisper, the view is keener, the camera angle and the soundtrack manipulate my emotions in a way reality can’t any more  I don’t know that we are actually human at this point, those of us who are like most of us, who grew up with TV and movies and now the Internet. If we are betrayed, we know the words to say; when a loved one dies, we know the words to say. If we want to play the stud or the smart-ass or the fool, we know the words to say. We are all working from the same dog-eared script.
It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless automat of characters.
And if all of us are play-acting, there can be no such thing as a soul mate, because we don’t have genuine souls.
It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I'm not a real person and neither is anyone else.
I would have done anything to feel real again.

And the song I'm humming these days:
If you’re YouTube maniacs like I am, you might be familiar with the viral video called Numa Numa, this is the live version by O Zone(Yeah,they're a boy-band.What better way to get into the One Direction spirit of things!). And the language is Romanian, you’ll want to know after watching it.

P.S. And I know what you’re thinking right now...

That, dear reader, is what happens when my brain goes into overdrive...I start thinking too much and too little all at once.
And why did I subject you to that?
Well...I have no answer. Other than the oft-quoted Writer’s block...but hopefully you’ll be back next time for more craziness and not file a lawsuit against me to exaggerate.
Oh well!
Have a fantastic February! :)
Also today’s the two month birthday of my blog!
Let's Partayy!

**And the title's pirated too.From here!
See,I'm the piratingest pirate that ever long as my pirate is Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom!:)
And I did get the results from those exams I mentioned somewhere before and let me just say the marks make me want to start a protest march against the board's correction system!

Saturday, 26 January 2013

One Republic To Go (NO BANANA PLEASE)

*clears throat*
Today,Ladies and Gentlemen,is the 64th Republic Day of India...the day when the constitution of India came into force.And yes,we celebrate that.
And in honour of this wonderful day...blah,who am I kidding?!
*back to gangsta*
Yo peepulz,I have this awesome guest-post by Stutee Nag of Stu(art) who wrote me this phatang(roughly means bombshell) post.
Okay,Introduction time,This chick ain't taking no mess from anyone.She's honest.And bold.And crazy....and my long-lost twin(seriously,you wouldn't believe the number of times I've sat gaping at her blog with what appear to be my thoughts written on it!)
And one of my earliest bloggy friends.And you need to go check her...ahem,her blog, out.
So without further ado,Presenting...

India is my beloved country and All Indians are my brothers and sisters I used to pledge in school and then promptly add except for one under my breath, only to laugh later for a good ten seconds at the funniest joke known to me at that time.
It was real fun - Pledging that way!
But hey, hold your horses. Before you get all judgemental about me, let me clear the air. That was then, I have grown up now and I kid you not, I love India. I might not pledge it every day but hell yeah, I am one proud Indian. And just like you, I associate myself with everything that India feels great about or ahem (gulp- gulp) vice versa (Gang rapes, never ending corruption, Honour Killings etc etc  to name a few.)
2012 ended in a sombre unison. Finally India reflected on its ways and learnt a lesson or two, the hard way of course. They said the world was going to end in 2012 and I was like, yeah right- because God is just that kind. But we did hit a virtual end  didn't we? The lowest of lows were reached and that too khullam khulla.
Okay- enough- I know a lot has been said, written and heard in that regard and since no cribbing happens to be my resolution for the year 2013, so let me just skip past to something happy.
Lets think happy- Ummmmm....ummmm.....
Rahul Gandhi  Tada!
(Because whats happier than the happy ending of the tale of the dynastic prince of the worlds largest democracy ;-) Ironically, this may be the saddest thing I have heard since the unfortunate gang rape episode. Oh no, dont get me wrong - I am not criticizing Rahul Gandhi. Poor chap, he has already earned more flak than Poonam Pandey.
(It is the idea of him that I am criticizing. The idea of someone being crowned the virtual king of the ruling party- even though all he had in the name of credentials  was the GANDHI DNA) He may be a wonderful person (no denying- charming, that he is) - all I am against is this eyewash that us Indians are subjected to in the name of big words like democracy, republic, aam aadmi etc etc.
My point is, call India the princely state of Rahul Gandhi and we are good to go- why the Constitution? Why the Rule of law? Why the whole Dog and Pony show? Those of us studying law will pass the course just like that.
This is how our judiciary exams question paper should look like:
Q.1  - Who is the King of India?
Ans.1  - Rahul Gandhi
Bam! 100/100  theres your degree, young man. Go serve the nation now. (Read: Kingdom) Long live the king. Hail Rahul!
Its a good Idea. Innit? I mean, why slug our asses for all those years  learning the constitution of India (which is by the way the lengthiest in the world)- when a one word answer can get all our problems solved  When, no matter what, everything boils down to the shitty ground reality.The truth of the Modern day Raj.
So what? Let them turn the Gandhis into the present day Royalty of India  hell, if they want they can build Maharaja Rahul his own Taj Mahal  I couldn't care less. Let the elections come and I will not vote for the mamma's boy and then the joke will be on them, I console myself.
I will vote for Narinder Modi instead.
Oh Dear Lord  is this what it feels like to be caught between a rock and a hard place.
Should I get back to Rahul only?
Shit, am I cribbing again?
Hey, wait a second.... I think, I am losing it  I may be going crazy here- there is darkness all around me- i am seeing black dots- is this a condition or a symptom? Black dots every where.. BIG BLACK DOTS- and I am getting claustrophobic too.. No, no, wait- where are you going- dont leave me alone...
We the people, India shining, sovereign, socialist, secular, democratic, republic, Incredible India, Om Prakash Chautala! Khap panchayat! Dented and Painted women! Damad ji! Didi ji! Behen ji! Mayawati! Italian girlfriend! MULAYAM SINGH YADAV! Suresh Kalmadi! Aye Raja! Terrorism! Corruption! Rapes! Gang Rapes ! Imam Sidqqui! Nitin Gadkari! That self proclaimed God man! Cwg! Cvc! Adarsh society! Coalgate!
Woof- woof! Grrr.... growl.... errr.............. beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Oh fuck it! Who am I kidding? I have lost it already.

I am bananas over my republic.

Hey,  Happy Republic Day, by the way!
Thursday, 10 January 2013

It's a Blog's Life!

I've been thinking of writing this post for some time and I finally cranked it out in a not very inspired mood. But let us go on!

There was this question in my Computer Security paper last semester:
Describe the life cycle of a virus
Never mind that I probably am going to score a zero on that answer (I faintly remember writing something about virus babies) but I decided to write that answer in relation to something I love (as opposed to an evil virus) blog!
That coupled with another new fascination. GIFs. These tiny little moving pictures manage to say what authors attempt to express in several paragraphs(sometimes several pages!) and they might be bad for writing but I lurve them!

The Life-Cycle of a Blog

Phase 1:
Where you first fall in love (and envy) with someone else's blog!
Elder brother, sister, chacha, mama, favourite author, anyone.
The freedom, the creativity, the virtual popularity it presents...unmatched!
A lot of blogs are born out of the oh-that’s-so-cute-I-want-that-too thought when we first see a blog. All of us have that inspiration story.
It starts for some (like me) as a spot to collect all the writery drivel we write and hopefully not have people ridicule the stuff, for some a popularity game to flaunt on Facebook(I’ve heard it helps if you have a sexy mugshot as your profile picture!),for some to use as a journal(but FB ruined all that!) or whatever.

Me, when I first saw eM’s blog.

Phase 2:
This is the place where all the elation from Phase One plummets (busted balloon style...with the high pitched wailing) when your little baby isn't considered all that great in big cruel outside world.
Secretly whispering 'I just got my own blog' to friends (no family because...'course not!) doesn't elicit more than a 'Really?' from close friends and a 'Yep it’s cool. You did this yourself?' after they have a look.

from Love Sonnet LXVI
No wonder cats are cool!

Phase 3.
Where you pull yourself out of the I-just-made-a-blog-and-no-one-gives-a-s**t-about-it haze and chalk out an active plan to get that stat-graph and GoogleFriendConnect box filling.
So you go on a blog-finding spree and end up finding some awesome writing in the process. You contemplate obliterating the pathetic excuse of a blog you've created after your self-esteem takes a serious beating after reading all the gorgeous goods which much more talented people have online.
And you read and read and keep reading and comment and stalk and one day, you get comments of your own join this little virtual world of crazy misfits, non-popular geniuses and generally awesome people you always wished you’d meet one day!

Me,when I get a comment...or a compliment.

From here the story can go two ways,
Stuff goes exactly the way you wanted it to.
Your blog grows, and grows and grows and reaches dizzying heights of blog-success and popularity, till you reach that point in time when you talk to *awesomekitty* from Timbuktu and pat-the-lad from Tennessee more than you talk to your real-life boyfriend/girlfriend and you sometimes get these wide-eyed stares when you describe that crazy-ass long comment thread on sparklysam that went on forever over dinner with your family...
Then they decide to pack you off to a far flung college with no outside connect except a phone in the principal’s office so that you stop all this blog-shog nonsense and begin passing in some subjects.
OR less dramatically, you get busy with life. With studies. Or a job. Or a new girlfriend/boyfriend(this is a little unlikely because I've seen that getting yourself a partner only sharpens the need to spill your guts to the public...not generalising of course).Or you get married. Or basically life happens.
Or you die.
End of blog.
Something like this:


Stuff doesn't go the way you planned.
You tank. You go bust. You’re defeated by the evil blog-monsters. Your self-esteem goes to the dogs. You spill tears over the blog-audience you never had. You decide to go back to more quaint methods of expressing yourself...the good ole diary, or more probably #Facebook, #Instagram or #Twitter.
What??You're telling me I can’t make hashtags on my blog?!
You never come back.And you feel something like this:

Phase 4.
The fate of all blogs.
I wish it weren't.
Just like the two cases above.
But the world calls with jobs and spouses and more lucrative and Boring but Necessary Things to do.
And the loser is the blog...the place that got you through many a hard day with all the happiness, goodness and encouragement.
When I stop being so jumpy, when I go from crazy teen to I graduate to a group of mom-and-babe blogs or techie blogs or something?
I need answers.
But then there's always...THE COMEBACK!!

20 Holiday Reactions We're All Having

All my plans to produce better writing simply aren't working. Call it writer’s block. Or the balderdash of an untalented uninspired writer...I simply don’t write stuff I’d be proud to call my own. Like what Zeba writes. This girl is the cause of many a bout if self-writing-loathing and swooning over how beautiful words can be. You’re missing something big if you haven’t read her. Go fall in love!

And my signing-out song.
May It Be by Enya. You've heard it in Lord of the Rings. And if you've been wondering who sang it, like me, I bring it to you!

P.S. I meant this post to be a funnier and more LOL-worthy post than the drivel you had to read through but after this sudden spate of comments on my blog and the virtual popularity(and the non-virtual bloated head), the truth is my noggin plain ain't working.
But as a present for you who laboured through that post, here’s something that’s REALLY funny. Ladies and Gentlemen, Presenting,
Achmed the Dead Terrorist!

Stay sane!