Freezing, shivering, drinking coffee and introspection at the same time. Asking my brain/mom/boyfriend/friends/random people on street 'Where the fuck did the whole year go?' The year ends in 15 days and almost everyone I know feels they have been struck by the Obliviate spell.

So I planned to have a serious lets-try-to-go-into-the-flashback session with my brain.
Here's what the interrogation led me to.

January: January was the start of Cost Accounting and Financial management classes. Insistent on not leaving my beloved blanket, Mom forced to resort to the lets-throw-freezing-water-on-her-face strategies, wrapping self with five layers of wollen and leaving at 6am in the morning just to travel half-sleeping half-dead in a deserted metro. Getting off and almost getting myself trapped between two metro doors, to catch the next one. All the efforts, all the pain was worth it. Courtesy the half-burnt Bread Pakoras and the yummiest Green chutney we had in the break. [Three days in a row and you ll be making the washroom your first second home, but thats not relevant]

February: The Valentine's month. The dread of having no one as my valentine and dying alone in a house full of cats happened. Caught hold of the first non-gay boy I could find. And we have been together since. This involved lot of filmy pallu-udna, pehli-nazar-me type background musics and violins.



March
&
April:    Gymming-for-2-hours-regularly-and-still-not-losing-weight-depression happened. And to cure this, I hogged on all chilly chickens and kebabs I could find. Though I wonder why it never helped.

May
&
June: Started my blog with a post that went like : "Hey guyzz bloggin 4 d first tym. Hw r yu allzz?"
Discovered the whole new world of blogger, HTML, tweeting, tumblring. Bid goodbye to the real world.

July : I have no idea what happened during this. The fragments which I remember are : Finally realizing 'typin lyk dis' isn't cool, changing facebook DP every day makes people believe that you have a life, saying I love you to friends on Facebook you just had a visit to the grocery store with is how it is meant to be, making sarcasm on people's tweets is the only way to get famous on twitter and the fact that aliens donot exist. And I think you can guess what among them was the most heart-shattering.

August,
September
&
October: Studies. Depression. Thoughts about hanging myself and blaming it on Cost Accounting's professor.

November : First half: A birthday overshadowed by exams. Second half: Convincing Mom how the papers were very tough and there's a huge chance that I might just fail. A feeble attempt to dampen her over-reactions when she'll witness my result in February.

December: First half: Sleeping. Eating. Cursing net speed. [Repeat]. Second half: [That technically starts today] Searching for the perfect gift to present to the King of Awesomeness on his birthday.

"Hey" 
"Hi" 
"Hello." 
"Now this has to be right" my inner voice screamed at me.
"Hey."

Fairly content with the tone I said it in and the expression, I turned my back towards the mirror and leaving the room started descending the stairs.

You know you are a social outcast when you have to rehearse greetings before going in public. 
I instantly tweeted.

Once downstairs I saw of family of four people sitting in my drawing room. The elder male of the family looked in his mid fifties with a pot belly that could easily replace the tea table in front of him. His wife and evidently the main head of the family sat munching the samosas kept in front of her and chatting constantly, her ill attempts to hide her age evident in her badly dyed black and white hair.
Along sat a boy who looked like he had never known a world where gym existed or even hair gel for that matter. A crisp shirt, glasses, hair center parted, shining shoes, and a phone that made Nokia 1100 look chic. Yes, all perquisites were present. I could bet my life he would be an engineer.
There were so few people present in the room it was surprising someone could go unnoticed. But there she sat, a lean girl in her twenties wearing the simplest of salwaar kameez that suddenly made me feel overdressed. Middle parting again (that somehow made me feel it was a family trade mark), oiled hair and eyes that never left the ground.

"Haan bahot hi sona munda hai. Koi aib nahi. No non veg, no drinking, no smoking. 5 lakh ka package hai."
Now this is a regular discussion topic around my place. And that's how they select boys for marriage these days. It doesn't matter if he is a violent person, if he is a womanizer or if he has raped a girl. If he has a decent salary 'package' and if he doesnt eat non-veg, doesnt drink/smoke he is the perfect groom you can get for your girl.

"Beta yeh aapke Punjab wale Mamaji hai." My mom introduces, as if we talk about them all the time. With an expression of 'Oh.Acha Woh Mamaji' I greet them with a namaste and others as well and sit down looking very interested in the conversation.

"Aajkal toh internet se hi sab kuch hojata hai." Mamaji said. And he went about explaining how they found a suitable groom for their daughter whose suitability was judged and finalized upon in a matter of 10 days.
After an hour of explaination and appreciations about the prospective groom's property in a decent cloney (and no its not a process of replicating sheep nor the last name of George. Its merely an area where people live. Like Defence Cloney), his family and what-not while the girl sat and blushed, I knew I had to leave.

Taking leave and entertaining myself with a re-run of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, I didnt notice when the-engineer-guy creepily came into the room.

"Arey yeh toh wahi hai na jisme wo ladki Pobi apni billi ke liye gaana gaati hai?"


"You mean Phoebe?"


"Nah. I always watch with subtitles and I am pretty sure it spelt p-h-e-o-b-e"

At a loss of words, (my inner voice LOLing) I could only utter "Ok. I might be wrong."


But then something happened which scared the living shit out of me. The Mamaji peeked into the room and talking to 'the engineer' muttered "oyee Mrooti ki Chaabi dio. Me saaman kad lawa."  (Let me take out the luggage.)

Yes. They were staying for the night. And worse. The engineer and the to-be-bride were going to share my room.

P.S: Something which was somehow unnerving was the fact how my mother felt so 'at home' with these people and how the to-be-bride was somehow the role model my mom wished me to be.
P.P.S: Needless to say, they suggested my Mom that she should make me wear Salwar-kameez more often and force me to cook. "Sade zamanech ta asi saare tabar leyi roti bnande see."

Blame it on the a-a-a-alcohol
Blame it on the vodka. Blame it on the henny.

I sat there sipping my vodka. This was too much. Music Check. Ear shatterring music Check. What else? What else did I need.
It felt like I was being punished for some unforgivable sin.
I wasnt dancing. How much worse could it get?
It did. Everyone else was. Except well a few.

How can you people not dance? I screamed in exasperation.
No one listened to me. Courtesy the blaring music. Or maybe their ignorance.

I pouted and sat back. How I wished I had Anny there. Too much for coming with brand concious people huh?
Who fake their pathetic dancing skills behind excuses like Yahan Chichore log dance kar rhe hai ... Chiii..!!! Do you expect us to dance here.
Duh YES. FUCKING YES. HERE. RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW.
Yeah my brain screams sometime.
The dancefloor and me. So close yet soo far.
I could so hear my brain singing Tere mere beech me kaisa hai yeh bandhan anjaaaaaaaana
Yes the dj was so pathetic. Still I could dance.
Where was I? Yes the dancefloor and me.
How things seperated us.
Things that didnt matter.
I couldnt believe I wasnt hitting it.
On another note I couldnt believe I wasnt hitting them. Literally.

So feeling like the end of the world and expecting god to throw a thunderbolt at me and make me die here at the instant I with jealous greedy needy eyes looked at people dancing. And Oh man!

If you too arent given the chance to dance Or you like a friend of mine just cant dance, sit back and observe. You ll always find loads of these.

1. The 'Yes I Can Dance people' Guy

The ones overflowing with confidence or well over confidence who believe dance is nothing but a series of movements done in no specific order with no knowledge or awereness that there exists something such as a song or a tune.
These are the ones usually standing out of the crowd due to their weird moments with girls giggling at them but then they being the overconfident people that they are take that as compliments.





The girl gang who have very enthusiastically volunteered to take it to the dance floor but find themselves dumbstruck on a couple song.
SO they make pairs among their selves and well take it to slow dancing. Urgh.....





The group of guys who decide to woo a girl they have been eveteasing or lets just say staring from a long time by their Hritik Roshan dancing skill. Or thats what they think.
Waiting for a 'macho' song and running (literally) as soon as one starts. Pretending or assuming themselves to be super cool rapper on stereoids or well worse Sidharth Malya  when in reality they look like schmucks.  They start of with total hip hop moves with a song that is well.... Punjabi.
Enough said.
4. The friends gang.

This group is basically normal. Well almost.
All dance pretending to be lost in their own world and half of them dance as if they are high on drugs but in the back of the mind everyone is thinkin 'am I dancing better than him/her? Oh nice move I am soo gonaa copy that.' This is normal. But some take this chance to hit upon their long i-couldnt-express-yet crush trying to be a bit more cosy cosy with every move. Umm do I need to say more.

The ones with no group or well a group that is too shy/pathetic to dance and decide to showcase their out of the world dancing moves from the seats itself. Looking more like pop corns being made.
Well I wont say much about this group since I was one of them.

Thats all.  If you havent noticed yet.
Next time. Dont dance. Take a notepad with you and study different groups.
Yes I am lame like that.

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Though I still managed to shake a leg while finally escaping from the clutches of the boring group I came with while going to the washroom.

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Love much

You wake up. Its still dark.
You didn't choose this. But this was anyway better than running for your life from an unknown monster.
You scramble for the water at your bedside. Gone.
Not your best best day.
Fourth awakening in a single night. Not your best night either but you refuse to loose.
It isn't game over yet.
You still have health left. You give it another chance.
Shoving off everything in your mind from the last nightmare you sleep. With success.

'Wake up' you hear a fimiliar voice in the distant. But with every second its nearing you. The footsteps thumping louder and clearer like someones hammering nails into your head. You scream irritated 'leave me alone' it came out as if you were crying for your life. The evil spirit retreats. Mercies you it seems.
Silence.

Hours pass by. You feel content. You don't know how long you have been hanging amonst this nothingness. But your nemesis don't let this be for long.
Something hits your eyelids like swords and your are sweating like crazy.
You open your eyes and there light. And only light. You are blinded. But you fight.
You manage to keep open one fourth of your eyes.
The sunshine wants to fight with you? Bring it on.
Eventually and gradually you are standing with your eyes wide open.
You win. But you aren't sleepy anymore. This was the price you pay to win.
You rub your eyes. They pain. As a matter of fact every part of your body pains. You woke up more tired than ever. Sleep is supposed to refresh you. But it was the other way round with you. It has sucked all the energy you had left within you.

You head towards the washroom. The mirror in front shows the most hideous person you have ever come across. You splash your eyes and wash your face with water. This helps your eyes but not you. You look as monstrous as before with puffy eyes, dark circles and your face swollen in places.

You leave the loo and go towards the music that you here. You remember the place. Its your living room and its
blaring out with the music that your mom has played ..


Shining in the setting sun like a pearl upon the ocean
Come and feeeeeel me.....

How can she even listen to this
Point one - pearl can't be on the ocean it has to be in an oyster in the ocean..
Point 2- point one proved. Thus no fuckin setting sun can make it shine.
Btw the lyrics aren't even abt the pearl.
Its about a stupid girl. So the correct thing is
(You are ) shining in the sun like a pearl (in an oyster) in the ocean .. (So you and not the pearl) come and feeleeeeeel me..
How can the hell she even shine by the sun ! What is she ? Edward cullen!
Why the hell are you even thinkin this! But you know that you already think too way much for your own good.
Your mom sets in front of you a plate which looks more like a monkeys vomit than any of the vegetables in there.. She slides it towards you like food is served to jail inmates. Well even worse.

She doesn't seem to be speaking to you. You like it that way. Nobody talking to you. Speaking seems a superhero task already.

You pick the plate of monkeys's vomit and head towards your room. Bolting the door in you shove the plate on the nearest desk. You notice worms and some ants on the pizza that you tossed there the say before. You don't care and toss yourself on the bed. Surfing on television you realise how idiotic it really is. Whims and fancies crowding all over it.

You go online. Going through facebook you smile on statuses that say how depressed people are. You want to laugh how people want to be heard. As if others are even the tiniest bit interested. No one is. No one cares a fuck. These people just are giving others chances to make fun of them
Totally worthless people ping you on chat.

You ignore cussing them and go offline.
You open your blog. Posting useless stuff to save your dying blog.

You look across your laptop at the pile of books that crowd your studytable. Your next glance goes towards the watch and you can't remeber what you did on the internet wasting like one sixth of your day.
Its almost dark. You hear voices of children playing on the streets. You remember the time when that used to be fun. Now its just a time to cuss these tiny devils.

Your bangles hurts you. You take it off. in a sudden rush it scratches your arm.
The half healed cuts on your arm are once again oozing out blood.
You make no effort to stop it.

You look at your phone. 2new messages and 1 missed calls.
You remember when you started this behavior in the beginning it used to be like 50 messages and 20 missed calls.
Everybody worried where I had vanished too. The fakeness.
But now even they cant fake it anymore.
No one cares. No one cares a fuck.

You like it that way. No contact with the outside world. Like it doesnt exist.
Like you dont exist.

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July’s gone as well (& so has half of the year already! – before we know it, it’ll be November … and then i’ll grow a year older once again *cringe!*)


Well I have always been happy about my birthday but this year. Oh Well. I ll lose my teenagerity. OMFG I make it sound like virginity.

Well in some other part of the world Gym change happened.

Sugars:

1. Nice air conditioning.
2. Better machines.
3. Drinking area upstairs so the lazy me wont drink water until the very end of my excersise.

Salts:

1.Very far off from my place.
2. THe trainer doesnt brush. Stinks.

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P.S: Have you ever laughed on someone like hell and stopped as soon as you realise they are serious. And when you apologise and they say its ok not a big deal and you start laughing again?

P.P.S: Too lazy after a shower that you sit in your towel?
Ditto. .
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 First you look like an elephant that is pregnant with a pregnant baby and then you wear shorts. Blasphemy.

Like seriously didn't you look at the mirror before deciding to show the world your 40 inches of legs that actually look like separate individuals.

Its instances like these that I think I am like 9 times smaller than they are and still I shy from wearing shorts.

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Do you have a nagging mother? 
How do you survive the nag attack? Please advise because my mom is giving me an overdose of it lately.

An year back when she used to ask me to do a chore I would always deny with a world-shattering excuse and say please you do it yourself. I know its rude but then I am lazy okay?
Back then she always used to say me atleast once say me that 'Yes Mom. I ll do it in a minute.'

Recent Scenario:
My mom: Nia your clothes are all over your room. When do you plan to tidy the place?
Me: Yes Mom. I ll do it in a minute. (while typing at usain bolt speed on my laptop)



My Mom: Yeah right thats what you are saying from the last three days.

I know right? Mom's can never be satisfied.

And its just today my Mom was like:  NIA WHAT THE HELL DO THIS DO THAT
And I was like Smack that all on the floor Smack that give me some more in my head.
And oh yes. Keeping quiet made my mom think I listened and she won and we got over it soon.
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Ever noticed in a horror movie the girl is the best prey only when she is bathing.
What? Is the ghost porn obsessed?

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This is unusally a smally post. Sooo not Me.
Adios. And Let me know what you upto. Who did I install the chat box for?
AndandAnd I am on tumblr too.
Though still figuring out what exactly its supposed to do.
All Faces Of Me (Mini Version)

P.S: Check out this amazing blogger. BlahBlaholic And Her blog.
Just 2 comments later I feel a connect amazing no?
P.P.S: Red Handed? Blog No? Pliss.

Seeyoulateralligator.