When NOT Facing the Books

So another year coming to an end. I wish I had chronicled all the important moments of my life. Some, I did; others I couldn't. 2009 started with a visit to Goa in January. February saw the changing equations with friends and the 'Dilli Darshan' trips. If March brought with it the farewell of our seniors and more changing equations, April was when things started making sense. May and June and most of July went by like a storm when I was busy working on the now-despised NOW magazine. July witnessed teenage dramas in my life and with that one 'Ji' that came with the onset of August, my world changed forever. Life after that was a dream- sweet at times, bitter at others, but a dream nonetheless.

The following is basically a retarded post- an arbit collection of my crazy status messages on facebook. Read at your own peril. If anyone wants any information pertaining to any particular status- the story behind it- just drop me a comment and I'll get back; or just enjoy it for what it is- a year's worth of insanity!

1) Kriti Sharma Edward Cullen is named after Edward Rochester? WTF?!?! That just killed all his charm!! :(

2) Kriti Sharma is gathering rocks to throw at you!

3) Kriti Sharma is so adjective, she verbs nouns.

4) Kriti Sharma is eating the pages of her coursebooks hoping that it will go straight to her head

5) Kriti Sharma took two days to figure out what exactly 'maanak bhaasha' means... It means "Standard language". Sheesh!!

6) Kriti Sharma is all set to create the world record (of getting negative marks in a paper where there ARE no negative marks) in tomorrow's Hindi exam.

7) Kriti Sharma wishes she could watch the IPL without worrying about quilts that cast elephantine shadows, hypothetical boundaries and alternate sexuality.

8) Kriti Sharma Pork is like oink oink but dead.

9) Kriti Sharma ate hailstones

10) Kriti Sharma Can-o You-o Speak-o Spanish-0? I-o Can-o! :P

11) Kriti Sharma is apathetic sociopath. She'd kill you if she cared

12) Kriti Sharma can't understand why work on the water pipeline caused a 7-hour long powercut. *scratches her head in confusion*

13) Kriti Sharma is "irritatingly stupid". (Thank you, Mr./Miss you-know-who! That's very interesting indeed!)

14) Kriti Sharma Darling, nothing is final 'til you're dead, and even then, I'm sure God negotiates.

15) Kriti Sharma is pretending you don't exist... and it's fun!

16) Kriti Sharma Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute Experience.

17) Kriti Sharma just banged her head in the wall... it cracked open. Mercifully, there was nothing inside. :D

18) Kriti Sharma 's cigar is piping hot!

19) Kriti Sharma Once upon a time when we were riding real easy.. Only we used our new Maruti.. Look up on the sides when a city girl pass by.. balle balle you say bye bye bye..

20) Kriti Sharma This, to inform the general public of the dangerous inclinations of one Kriti Sharma, who is now clinically established a psychopath of the first degree. Bewarned, and approach with care!

21) Kriti Sharma It's official. I DO HATE HUMANS!

22) Kriti Sharma haryanvi gaane sune sey! :D

23) Kriti Sharma loves Anu. Anu fed her muffins. :D

24) Kriti Sharma is dead bored. Waise, technically, it should be 'bored and dead', right? How can I be dead first and then bored? Wait! Dead people must get bored too! Yesss! Ooohh.... oohhh.. This proves my theory!.. Wait.. what was I talking about again?

25) Kriti Sharma If I put double sided adhesive on a bird, can call it duck tape?

26) Kriti Sharma reckons she should utilize this time by making up her own language. It extracts mine with shoul that the end made to press and the language of which my screw, conversion later and of which thinks.

27) Kriti Sharma devised a plan to take over the south pole, using taped together polar bears. Needs an accomplice. Anybody game?

28) Kriti Sharma is addicted to her cigar. Smoke on! :-)

29) Kriti Sharma is watching grass grow.

30) Kriti Sharma ko chullu bhar paani mein doob marna chahiye.

31) Kriti Sharma Bleh... like... bleh!!!!

32) Kriti Sharma just cleaned her room, gave it a little a makeover and now it looks like it belongs to a girl! Sheesh! Disaster!

33) Kriti Sharma is lonely... and sad.. :( .. Actually, it's more like bored... but oh well! Bleh!

34) Kriti Sharma is wondering if Riley took acid.

35) Kriti Sharma Umm, err, uhh, WHAT?!?!

36) Kriti Sharma agrees with Ayushman! La la lala la lala la.... life is crazy! HAPPY CRAZY!

37) Kriti Sharma is his girl! :D

38) Kriti Sharma "One unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself."

39) Kriti Sharma Impotent and Whore. Sigh!

40) Kriti Sharma will print all her assignments on a special paper with a watermark that says "KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME"

41) Kriti Sharma gets married to Abhayankar Sharma and lives happily ever after. For more on this, please hound Rhea Srivastava

42) Kriti Sharma French Fries and Brad Pitt.... the razai.... TV ka remote and Brad Pitt.... no pesky young brother... just S.O.L.I.T.U.D.E.. and ooh! Did I mention Brad Pitt? Not to forget the hot jalebis on their way... and BRAD PITT!

43) Kriti Sharma What is a chicken? A chicken is an animal you can purchase in the Barn Buddy store with Barn Buddy credits or coins.

44) Kriti Sharma And my parents are distraught coz "Avtaar mar gaya!". Et tu, Pop? Then fall, Kriti.

45) Kriti Sharma is still thinking of planning to make an actual plan to study

46) Kriti Sharma just saw a totally strange smell and it sounded like it was bright pink!

47) Kriti Sharma A dialogue between me and mum... Me: (busy watching From Russia with Love).. Mum: Bas yehi karna tum din bhar.. exams aa rahe hain... uski to chinta hi nahi.. movies dikhwa lo inhein har samay!// Me (smiling): Mummy, movie course mein hai.// Mummy: Haan haan... mujhe to ullu samjha hai na!// Me: (picks up the coursebook and hands it to mum).. Mum quietly walks out. // :)

48) Kriti Sharma wasted yet another day doodling when not alternating between watching movies and nearly burning the house down. Life really cannot be better! :D

49) Kriti Sharma Wake up at 1, watch romantic movies till 4, spend an hour lamenting why life has no happy endings, pretend to study, fall asleep again, wake up 7, decide to skip bathing for it'll only 'waste half an hour of [your] study time', then spend 40 minutes on fb and upload this stupid status. Can life really get better than this? :D

50) Kriti Sharma will step out of the house after 5 days of complete isolation. BIG DAY! Somebody call the press, please? Or Tweet this at least... it's 2009's last great event!

Wish you all a Freaking Crazy New Year 2010! 




I love death, the thought of it, not the smell. The sound isn't that bad either, but the smell is unbearable. The sight is very interesting... remarkable if coupled with the presence of blood; the smell is torturous. I can smell it now.

Hate is all it evokes in me. It all began a week back on those stairs. Lying helpless in your arms I did not feel the familiar warmth that filled my chest when you touched me; rather, I felt it- watching over me, silent, crouching, awaiting its chance, to pounce, to strike and bring on the end.

You were there then. But what will you do now? How will you save me? It's here, ready to devour, to suck up the warm, delectable blood and leave a repulsive, repugnant pile of flesh and bones behind.

Distorted limbs, empty eye-sockets, spilling brains... it was everywhere. Death had paid a brief visit but the smell lingered on. The disaster was for all to see, the smell just for me. It is as if everyone is suffering from anosmia. How could they be oblivious to this sickening smell! But they are!

Tubelights cracked, bulbs exploded, dogs howled and humans wailed but death continued- unconstrained, uncontainable, unquenchable.

The smell haunts me still.



 I came home to you:
Distempered, denuded
Deterrents welcomed me.
Confined, detained; I stared out,
Into the night
Where darkness reigned
And fluorescent bulbs jeered at me.
Cajoled the heart;
Knew you would return.
I am all you have.

The empty godforsaken hall
Resonated yet- heaved, sighed:
Your lyrical breath haunts me still,
Even as the silhouette
Gently, unceasingly drifts away.
You’re not here
But your presence lingers on.
The smoke- like a
Sick, slick serpent
Stealthily it ate into me.

Shrivelled, wrinkled, weary
Weakened limbs trembled.
Even as the truth sank:
Plunging me headlong into
Uncertain abysmal shadows
You would not return.
It swallowed you and
Followed me home. Evil,
Empty sockets stared back.
Life- withering, waning, retreating.

A patter of tiny,
Scared feet scurried away-
Petrified but hopeful, still.
And as the silence
Grew profound, my mind
Became my sanctuary.
Where thoughts of you
Were still pulsating with life;
Where you
Laughed and loved and lived.


Tag! (that's like the most innovative title for a post, ever. period. )

There's no denying it- this blog is pretty much dead. Partly, because there really haven't been any 'real' posts for quite sometime... just things I managed to publish inspite (and as a result) of a major Kreative Block. And to a certain extent because of the dwindling readership. I'm sure the reason's my recurring bouts of (in)sanity that lead me to proclaim that I'll be shutting down the blog forever, thus, driving away whatever exiguous number of readers it had. Yet, there are people who have made their presence felt and if the blog's alive the credit goes to them! Thank you!

One of the most consistent readers here is Aniket who was recently awarded this over at MoD. As his policy goes, "the award by default goes to anyone who drops a nice comment" over at MoD. That, technically, makes me a recipient of the award but frankly, I'm not a big fan of the idea of blog-awards. That is not to say that I don't appreciate them but if one honestly admires one's work then all awards become secondary. Genuine praise can be conveyed through mere words.  Blogosphere encourages distinct talents. No two bloggers can be compared then why distinguish? Everyone deserves an award! And so, I take it upon myself to forward this to every blogger who visits this page, comment or no comment! (Hey Aniket, who's more generous now? :P)

Now that we're done with the award policy crap, lets come to the point. The award constitutes of a tag as well. You're supposed to write down 7 random things about you. For anyone who knows me knows that I take pride in calling myself the epitome of randomness so no wonder I grabbed the award and the tag as soon as I laid my eyes on it. :D

1) I (along with R) have a habit of breaking into a rendition of humu-humu-nuku-nuku-apua'a by Ashley Tisdale just to bug people around me. :D

2) I get easily bored. Things, places, people, food... you name it, it bores me. I need to keep up the excitement factor somehow... meet new people, visit new places, etc. But that isn't exactly possible when you're an undergrad. Wait! A broke undergrad! Oh no! A broke undergrad whose life revolves around classes and college. (and don't tell me that I have so much opportunity to at least meet new people if not anything else. Trust me, I've tried.)

3) I've been suffering from a writers' block for ages now (why else am I doing a tag, eh?) and I thought I had gotten over it, but alas! That was just an illusion.

4) I carry two phones. One, for the sole purpose of messaging, the other to make calls. One of them has got a QWERTY. The funny thing is that the one that has the QWERTY isn't the one I use for messaging :P

5) I hate furniture, especially beds. I made my parents sell the original double-bed in my room the last year. Six months later, they got a new one- the ugliest monstrosity ever possible. 3 months after they had got it, I made them sell it yet again. I LOVE sleeping on the floor! :D

6) I'm pretty good at shutting people out of my life. No, not literally but more like shutting my mind to them. Once they've lost their rapport with me, once I've lost all respect for them there's just no way they can gain it back. Nope. Never. I'm darned good at growing indifferent to things. I can force myself to do it. (Tubelights got a taste of it recently and I'm sure he was scared enough to not make me do it in future *evil laugh*)

(It's been 10 minutes and I just can't think of a 7th thing. I've been repeatedly checking my phone for a call that'll never come. Life sucks!)

7) Oh yes! YES YES YES! Life sucks! "Life Sucks!" I say that at least187 times a day. It's my motto. Gee!

So there! I'm done with my tag. Although now I can think of another 70 random things. It's weird. You can never remember anything when you want to write about it but once you drop the idea of writing it all comes flooding your mind like anything. And before I ramble on and into another tag, I'll take leave so as not to lose the ikka-dukka readers this blog knows. Ciao!


I prefer our forests green...

I prefer our forests green, not black.
Lets keep them so.

 Another shot from the Sat Tal collection. 


The memory... for it's all that's left.

 I will always hold this memory even though you won't care,
And the scar you left in my heart will always be there.

The picture was taken in Sat Tal, UK (Uttarakhand, for the dimwits), India.


My all

I hoarded love
It melted away
I locked it
and it broke free
I grabbed on to it,
Always do,
And ended up holding an illusion.
I died a thousand deaths.
I die everyday.
I wish you would release me
And yet, beyond you,
Nothing exists.
For you were, are and forever will be
My all!


Of hypocrisy and hamartia and oh well! I AM BACKKK!!!

My hands are itching to write, to read, re-read, type it all out, edit and then publish it on my blog. I know I’m not supposed to do that. I have closed it down, forever.


Will I? Won’t I? Will I? Won’t I? Oh my my! Talk about tough decisions. I read Rheality’s post today. She has also started and closed 6 blogs before she began with The Indecisive Cinegoer. Point being that even though I’ve closed it down, I’m DYING TO GO BACK TO IT!

Therein lays the problem. I’m programmed to not go back on my word. I quit the magazine I was working for and it was a very impulsive decision. Even though I kept contemplating (and for a good long time too!) if I should go back to it or not and even though I really wanted to, I couldn’t.  I do not go back on my word, and that, my dear, is my tragic flaw, my hamartia. I don’t know why I’m even writing this and writing it as if I was addressing someone. No one’s going to read it!

An author writes for an audience, always. Even if you write for yourself you become your own audience and if you write because you don’t have anyone to talk and never even read what you write, well then, aren’t you writing for an imaginary audience? Of late, I had been wondering who I was writing for and why.

What everyone missed out on (and naturally so, because I never mentioned anything about it) was that the friend-incident was the trigger... I had been pretty irregular with my blog for quite some time now and that's because I couldn't see the point of blogging anymore. I couldn't understand why it was important to show my work to n number of random people and trust and/or value their judgement of it. That debate had been on for quite some time. I had also thought about disabling the comments permanently, but then, if I do display my work, I would want to know people's opinion of it. Since that didn't hold any importance for me, then why display it at all!

I realised that I had been blogging for the sake of it, not because I genuinely wanted to. But it was only after I stopped, when I knew in my heart of hearts that I’ve just ended it for good, I realised the enormity of the situation. I realised how terribly I’ll miss all that excitement of putting up a new post and waiting for the first comment, of discovering a new blog and learn about what’s happening in their part of the world.

I’m aware that what I’m writing now won’t make sense to most (See! I’m still writing as if I’m going to post this on Kreation! Hmph!). Gist of the matter is- I’m pretty easily incensed and end up taking impulsive decisions which I might or might not regret. In case I do, I don’t show it and just pretend that it doesn’t make much of a difference when actually it does!


After an entire day spent thinking what to do and what not to... a Rheality check helped! I know no one’s going to kill me if I start blogging again. But I was still apprehensive about getting back to it. It doesn’t seem right when you bid farewell only to return again. But WTF! It was my decision to stop blogging and it is my decision to resume it. To hell with anyone who thinks I’m a hypocrite. I might be, no doubt, but a happy one at that!

So peoplessssss... more moronic posts on your way!


P.S.: For the first time in history (okay! Lie! It’s actually the second time. Note: Don’t ask about the first!)  Kritically yours (yours truly, me! (only for the obtuse... please ignore if you got it the first time))and Rheality check are COMING TOGETHER!!! Oh well, perhaps you don’t grasp the enormity of this colossal event. You will once you see what’s in store for you. Just wait and watch!

P.P.S.: This post was published unedited and if it doesn't make sense to you, well, bleh!

Currently playing: Pussycat Dolls- Jai Ho (It sucks!)


Bidding adieu

Somewhere deep in my heart, I knew this day would come... what I did not know was that it would come like this. Bidding adieu has never been easy but I’ve done it once today and that makes this easier. In fact, I won’t be lying if I say that the first goodbye was the trigger for the second one.


I remember a late-night conversation with a dear friend who was surprised to learn about my intense attachment with my blog. I’m reproducing the conversation here-

me: lol..
you talk about this as if it were not my blog but something else....
 Distorted: I understand you're pretty attached to it.
11:23 PM
me: But of course!
 It’s the only thing that has been constantly accompanying me since the last one and half year...
11:24 PM
Distorted: A part of you, eh?
 me: much more than that!
 It’s my life...
 that sounds clichéd
 but its true

Yes, sad though it may sound, it is true. The blog, is, was, my life.

(I just saw Deepa’s comment on the last post. Yes, it feels glad to have you back Deepa, but I won’t be around anymore to share all the fun.)

Two years ago, the commencement of this blog also marked the beginning of a great friendship. Although we parted ways after a year, I still cherish every moment of it. Some things are not meant to work out and that was one of them and even though it ended, I only have fond recollections of it. I am, and will always be, grateful to J for introducing me to the almost-magical world of blogosphere.

Now that I’m on a reminiscence tour, it’s getting difficult to continue with this. However melodramatic this may sound, it actually hurts to type every single letter- a real heartache, not just a metaphorical one.

Moving on, I made more friends. As I type it out now, it sounds really ridiculous, but these ‘virtual’ friends felt more ‘real’ than the ‘real’ ones. I was, for once, overjoyed! Thinking of it, Kreation even played an enormous role in helping me find the love of my life. No, I did not ‘find’ him through my blog, but if it hadn’t been for our respective blogs, we would not have, perhaps, even talked to each other... nothing more than the customary ‘HIs’ and ‘hellos’, I’m sure. I’m still grateful to the blogosphere for all these wonderful people in my life and it was the loss of one of them that drove me to write this post and put an end to Kreation.

Stupid though it may sound, I don’t want to meet more people. I don’t want to make new ‘friends’. It hurts when they leave and no matter how much you try to move on and let go, there remains a big, gaping hole in your heart- the place they once occupied. I’m a coward, no doubt about it. I’ve lost enough people in my life, some to fate and some to utter stupidity, but no more of it. It hurts when you lose them to fate; there’s certain permanence about it. But it hurts a thousand-fold when you lose someone to human fallacies.  It hurts when they block you, mentally and/ or technically and won’t even listen what you have to say.

Even the best of friends just break-off and would not even try making it work. It difficult, no doubt, but isn’t the friendship worth it all? Like another friend said, you feel like executing them all. But then, what good does it do? Being at the receiving end not just once I know it won’t do any good. They just block you, forget it, move on. They don’t give a damn about it. Apparently, they’re so ‘embittered’ by one mistake that they are ready to put weeks, months and years of all the good times you shared together. And it just doesn’t matter.

And what do you do when faced by such a situation? Or, can you really do anything when they’re hell bent on ignoring you? Of course not! You can write, hope that they would read it but they’ve blocked you, so no point! Ultimately, what happens is that you are the one, who thinks about it, gets stressed out, even cry your heart out sometimes, but then, WHAT?

You can move on, of course, but as Aupsy said- “there's only a limit to how much one can move on... one can’t go beyond the end of the world... and if we keep moving on, wouldn’t be the ones to find ourselves in a corner?” You want to kick them, slap them, even beg them... anything to make them see sense, but you inadvertently end up with a sorry... only because you care. What other alternative do you have? Sticking to someone who doesn’t wish to be bothered by you? Imposing yourself on them? That does no good. If only there was a way of letting them know the intensity of the hurt they’ve caused you. But, there isn’t.  And what if you manage to tell them? Can you rest in peace after that? “Friends don’t come in wholesale”. :-) 

I know I’m blabbering but the point of the matter is that this is all a game of avoiding failure. I was thirsty for love; the blog showered me with it. But this love is like Leprechaun gold. It doesn’t last. And then the world burns... the heart yearns... to no avail! I've had enough of it! So, since I'm also on a trip to shut down all entrances to my heart, I decided to start with the blog. Like the old saying goes- na rahega baans, na bajegi baansuri. 

This is cowardice too, definitely, but at least the blog won’t beg me to listen to it. And if it does... I swear to God, if it does, I’ll listen!

Oh well! I want to write more and more and more, so that there IS no end but now it’s impossible to write more. A part of me is trying to stop me from doing this and a constant mental struggle is on. And before I give in to the tempting idea of deleting all this, I’m going to post it and be done with it.

Goodbye Kreation.

So, well, yeah... this is...



Kreation turns 2!!!

Before I wish my bloggie  a very happy 2nd birthday, I have to apologise... for forgetting its birthday altogether. Boo-hoo!! I'm shorryyyyyy!!

And well, better late than never... so a very very Happiieeeeee Burrr(p)dayyyyy to my darling bloggie!!!

O-kay, so, um, wishes people!!! And  yeah.. don't forget to send in your gifts!! :D


Of Esquires and Angels :)

Neither ****, nor ****
Can sustain the smoldering gaze
And who is ******* but a mere shadow
Ablaze in this vital glow
Of your Guardian Angel 
The sweet belle
The wild bee
Who rose from mighty mysterious seas
And spun her web around you
Wrenched you out of the blue
From anguish then your spirit turned
Your heart for her sweet kisses yearned
And as your lives intertwined
You chose to leave the world behind
It set your heartbeats so to race
When e’er you gazed upon that face
The innocence- it caught you- like a child
Yet even then could drive you wild
You’ll never understand the how’s and why’s
Yet you lost your heart to those brown dancing eyes
And when you got that long sought kiss
You knew you had found your perfect miss
She made a vow to none but you
And pledged her love to forever be true
Now each day your love grows strong
Like a gentle, merry, mellifluous song
Like a cream white rosebud- a flush on its petal tips
With a kiss of desire on its lips
Forever, eternal and sincere,
The flame will outlive life’s brief years
So, shout it from the mountaintops, all places high and low
This love is your reason to be and will never break or bow!
Author's Note: I had posted this on my other blog (where, of course, you would learn the truth about the post). But then, since most people don't visit it, I decided to re-post it here as well (with the 'controversial' parts in asterisks, of course. As if you hadn't understood already. You're intelligent readers, after all! :P )
In case you still want to see the original post, just drop in your e-mail id and I'll send you an invite to the blog. :-)



As usual, when nothing else comes to your rescue a tag definitely does. So, while I still figure out how to get back to blogging business (I’m still suffering from a writer’s block of sorts... the mag robbed me of all my Kreativity), what could be better to grace my beautiful blog than this tag-a-war(d) by Ani.
The Award
(I hope this is the right one, Ani. There were two, so I kinda randomly picked this, coz I've already been awarded the other one)
It’s basically an award that includes a tag. I remember there was a set of rules for this tag but I have no intentions of searching for it. I had just saved the questions when I saw the post and I’d rather get down to doing it before my mother, my sweet angelic mother, calls me in her sugar-coated voice to REQUEST me to prepare lunch! Hmph! (Yeah! She’s been doing that for over a month now. The day she realised orders don’t work as well with me as requests do, she altered her strategy and there’s no escape routeL)

1. What is your current obsession?
Sleep! I’m catching up on it and I’m always sleepy (Don’t ask!).  And oh! Twitter too! It’s so much fun bombarding everyone’s home pages with your trash. :)

2. What are you wearing today?
Vest and shorts.

3. What’s for dinner?
    1) It is 11:22 in the morning and I haven’t even had breakfast, then how the frigging hell am I supposed to know what’s for dinner?!?!
     2) On second thoughts, over-cooked chapattis, that’s what’s for dinner. Since ultimately I’ll end up preparing it and I’m tired of cooking so I’ll just burn everything. Perhaps then mom would stop asking me to cook. *evil grin*

4. What’s the last thing you bought?
A recharge coupon for my phone. *sigh*

5. What are you listening to right now?
Fuzon- More saiyyan mose bole na.

6. What do you think about the person who tagged you?
Ah! I love his 55ers (or less)... would make sure I checked his blog every day before leaving for he was doing the NaBloPoMo posts and they were such a breath of fresh air. Not once did it get redundant or boring. Kudos, Ani!

7. What are your must-have pieces for summer?
Vest and Shorts :P

8. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
Back to sleep.

9. Which language do you want to learn?
French and even Bengali: I’ve always been fascinated by the sheer sweetness of these languages.

10. What’s your favourite quote?
“Main niiii” (You see, it’s habit to always reply in the negative)
On a serious note, this would be my favourite quotation: “If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the possibility of life is destroyed.”

11. Who do you want to meet right now?
I don’t know why (perhaps because his father just called), but I really want to meet P.K.M. right now. He was my dearest, closest friend until an unfortunate incident happened and after that, even though our families are still in touch, we never had the chance or courage to face each other. I wish I could see him now. I miss you, my friend.

12. What is your favourite colour?
Black, any day!

13. What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own closet?
My shorts; I’m obsessed with them! And that Weekender skirt as well! J

14. What is your dream job?
Anything where I don’t actually have to work. I’ve always said that I’m a bibliophile by choice and want to make it a profession too. So, anything where all I have to do is read books (just read them, mind you, no reviews either!) and that’s that. :P

15. What’s your favourite magazine?
Needless to say, it was NOW. It still might be, I don’t know.

16. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
Add it to the money I’m saving for my Pulsar 220. :P

17. What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Wearing ill-fitted clothes and anything pink. I’m sick of pink! There’s so much of it on the campus.

18. Who are your style icons?
No one, really. On second thoughts, anyone who knows what looks good on them and how to carry what they’re 
wearing. That’s about it.

19. What kind of haircut do you prefer?
Messed up (which I’m told is called ‘emo’ these days). Only because then I can avoid combing and still not worry about how my hair looks. After all, it’s supposed to be messed up! :P

20. What are you going to do after this?
I have two more tags to finish and some 60 blogs to visit (have been away for too long, dammit!) and two tutorials to write and some 5-6 essays to read and 7 different books (that I’m reading at the same time) to finish. I’ll go sleep. J

21. What are your favourite movies?
Ever After, 10 things I hate about you, Into the Wild, The Shawshank Redemption Satte pe Satta (yeah, fine! Stop raising your eyebrow. I do love the movie.), Jo Jeeta Wohi Siknadar, Andaaz Apna Apna and well, these are the ones that came to my mind. The list could go on...

22. What are three cosmetic/makeup/perfume products that you can’t live without?
Can live without everything. I don’t use make-up anyways. Just the dear old kajal. J

23. What inspires you?
Everything. Yes! Everything. Let’s not even get into this now.

24. Give us three styling tips that always work for you:
1) Comfort- always comes first.
2) Make sure what you wear fits you well
3) Minimal DOES work best

25. What do you do when you “have nothing to wear” (even though your closet’s packed)?
It’s time for a clean-up! Throw out all the ‘useless’ clothes and go buy new ones. J

26. Coffee or tea?
Both! Nothing beats a refreshing, hot bed-tea in the morning and a cup of equally refreshing, steaming coffee at night (especially when you have to pull an all-nighter before exams)

27. What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?
It's a secret!
On second thoughts, I’m quite addicted to the self-inflicted, umm, traumas.

28. What is the meaning of your name?
Creation! I would be really surprised if you hadn’t figured that out by now.

29. Which other blogs you love visiting?
There are too many to mention here. Just take a look at my blog-roll.

30. Favorite Dessert/Sweet?
And Chocolate truffle and gulabjamun and well, roshogullas!
Okay. Stop.

 31. Favorite Season ?
Winter. J

32. If I come to your house now, what would u cook for me?
I’ll tell you to get out. I’m tired of cooking, freak!


back and blabbering

Warning: Reading this post might result in a loss of sanity. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Back and at it again!
It's time to party for all of you, my dear readers (if there are any left) for I AM BACK!

After the long hiatus, partly because I was busy and part of it self-imposed for 'personal reasons' (wink), I'm back to bug you some more. So while normal posting may still take some time to resume, I decided to upload a new template and found this. The only trouble I have with it is the frigging irritating 'Undefined' on the left side of the post. If you know how to edit it, please let me know! *gets down on knees and begs*

So, off for now, will return. Keep watching this space (yeah, as if!)

And oh, on the personal front, well, things are good *blushes*. So good that I was under house-arrest for sometime, had fights with almost all my friends in the last couple of weeks and *drops the bomb* I have quit the magazine I was working for. (Don't ask me why. No point. I'm not telling.)

But things are better, much better now. All the misunderstandings (fine, fine.. most of them!) have been sorted out. College is back on track after the much irritating, but gratifying  (coz for once, dirty politics could not win from the righteous ones) DU and college elections and now Ramjas College can finally hope for some positive change.
(Manu, in case you're reading this, please get the cameras removed asap!)

Umm, so yeah.. I don't know what else to say. Won't bore you guys. Take care. Happy blogging!


My baby starts walking!

N.O.W. Magazine (if you don't know about it by NOW, you really should go and drown in your own bath-tub.) is a week old and has already made its debut in the papers! Here's a recent article covering the launch from HT City.
Needless to say, this (and a couple of other things as well) is what has been keeping me from blogging regularly. I'll return soon, I promise!


The Time is N.O.W.

Finally! The cat's out of the bag. The project that had been keeping me for so long is finally out for everyone to ogle at! My (our?) dear magazine- a Youth magazine with a twist- presenting....

- Nothing Official Within

The N.O.W. Story.... or at least a part of it!

Once upon a time, on a hot lazy summer day, a group of Delhi University students sat down at Nirulas, North Campus and discussed an idea for a youth/ student magazine for the University of Delhi circle. 
The rest, as they say, is history.
August 12, 2009. NOW Vol 1 issue hits a DU college near you!
Stay away if you value your sanity.

And yes, I would like to take this opportunity to thank my dear friends and fellow bloggers- Amith and Ayush (AwSM and Aupsy) without whose generosity and support, perhaps this wouldn't have happened. I'm grateful to blogsville for I found such great friends here!

Author's Note: In case you're not a DU student or a delhi-ite, not to fret! If you want a copy, just dop a comment with your e-mail address and I'll get back to you. (Ah! I can be such an angel if I want to be, can't I? *snigger snigger*)


Mired in Gloom

As the melancholy creeps in
Taking with it the resplendent joy
Of making it this far
Up to the very Lacroix*.
But now it’s just me
And you are nowhere to be found
The miracle, I know now,
Was nothing but a sweet lie.
It’s just the silence that surrounds
Drowns me in its depth profound.
My soul beseeches to be found.

The walls –declivitous, confine me in.
Sunshine seems a thing of yore.
The sky still distant
Beckons no more.
And solitary I stand
The shadows I do not fear
Memories turn to fantasies
Hope converts into a vision of wonder.
On a gloomy night, I fill myself with grief
As life drowns in pools of tears,
And life drowns in pools of tears.

* Lacroix- is a crater on the Moon


Contradiction- construed.

There's no escaping it. There's no escaping you. No matter what I do, where I go, you always seem to find a way in.

Wherever I go
I find you staring
Back at me
My own reflection
The mocking smile, plastered all over your face. More like a Mona Lisa than a Cheshire cat. The spark in your eyes- alarming, intimidating.

The eyes- effeminate
Moist, but sparkling
Accusing nonetheless
Of crimes unnerving.

You wanted me to shut up. I did that. So, why are forcing me to do this? Why do you want me to open the Pandora's box of emotions welled up inside me?
It is not easy
To hold it all in
The emotions, they are
All bottled within.
I don't know why you feel I ridicule you. True, my words sound malicious multiple times. But are you not intelligent enough to understand that I do not intend to hurt you?? But perhaps, it is not your fault at all. I'm a leettle too good at concealing it and concealing it well.
A trifle too good
I am, I'm aware,
At concealing it all
Pretending I don't care
And in the process of hiding from everyone, I seem to have lost myself. Completely. But,
Lest you say
I forgot you, my dear
Do understand-
I'm not what I appear.
The reason I ridicule you (for if that's what you still think) is to avoid the hushed whispers, the wiggle-waggle. 
Does that clear anything, Mr. Distorted Tube-lights?
Author's note: The poem posted earlier- Contradiction- was not a poem at all. It was all part of a small write-up, addressed to a certain someone. I had written it, yes... but I had never intended to actually post the entire thing here and I never intended to show it to anyone, either. Ironically, I have just done exactly that. Why? I don't know. 




Wherever I go
I find you staring
Back at me
My own reflection

The eyes- effeminate,
moist, but sparkling,
Accusing nonetheless
Of crimes unnerving.

It's not easy
To hold it all in
The emotions that are
All bottled within

A trifle too good
I am, I'm sure
At concealing it all
Pretending I don't care.

Lest you say
I forgot you, my dear
Do understand-
I'm not what I appear


And she returned...

The blade was already digging deep in her skin; droplets of blood oozing out. She could’ve ended it in a fraction of a second, but she didn’t. Instead, she tasted her own blood- yes, tasted it. It tasted like rust; nothing like the red wine she had imagined it to bear resemblance to. But it was pleasant nonetheless. It seemed to affect her strangely. Suddenly, she could hear her own heartbeats distinctly. It seemed to her that somebody had wrenched her heart and held it close to her ears; so unmistakably audible. 

She was startled for a moment. Had she died, perhaps? Yes! That seems only plausible. She had, after all, managed to kill herself. Yet, she could feel it hammering against her chest; proof enough that it was still there. She WAS alive, then.

She could still feel the cold blood running through her veins searching for any nook or cranny of her body that wasn’t insensate yet. The biting cold blood surging ahead... Cold. Blood. COLD?!?! She was perplexed. Wasn’t blood supposed to be warm and revitalising? She felt for the handkerchief she now remembered tying across that cut. It was wet, but not with blood. Instead- she now saw- it was ice cold water.

Water? She found herself at a loss again. Just then a strong gust of wind blew away her scarf and she came out of the trance. She found herself standing in the exact centre of the town square. She had no recollection of taking that ever familiar lift from the fourth floor where her apartment was located; no recollection of taking the stairs either. Yet here she was- in the town square- and what she had imagined to be heartbeats and blood were the howling wind and rain, respectively. 

Perplexed at first, she snapped back to her senses. It didn’t matter how she had reached the town square. The rain had done something good, it seemed. She now realised the terrible mistake she was about to commit barely 10 minutes ago. Her husband had been killed, yes; her entire family had been wiped out in that attack, true. But she was alive and healthy and so was her daughter. It hadn’t even been 3 days since the family’s demise and she was contemplating suicide!

As if on cue, her 5-year-old’s laughter rang in her ears. There she was- 4 floors above in their apartment- calling out to her. Her deep brown hair billowing about in the fierce wind as she cried- “I want to play in the rain too mommy. I want to go out with you.”

She looked at that innocent little angel. The girl wasn’t even aware of the calamity that had struck them. “No,” she reminded herself. She had to live. She had to live for Samantha; the girl had already lost enough.

“Mommy, take me with you please mommy.”

She could almost feel the heat radiating from her once-numb body. She could not die anymore. Samantha needed her. Her daughter needed her.

“I’m coming darling, my angel, just a...”

Her last words died in her throat. All that remained of that moment was the blare of a horn, the screech of tires, a thud and a bloodcurdling scream.