What is with me and long hair? Why do I like it so much? I mean, people survive with shorter hair right? Why do i have to go through the drudgery of maintaining it? Can't I use the numerous hours I spend on it for doing other, more purposeful things? Why doesn't it shine as much as it used to? Why do people mistake it for a curtain? Why does vanny feel like tying me up with it all the bloody time? Why does tia think it goes better with the wall than with my head? Why are people compelled to talk only about my hair in the testimonials? I mean, ain't there more to me as a person than just my hair? Why am I referred to as the girl with the long hair rather than with my name?
Hold it!
It's gone now. The hair, the title, the cribbing. It does feel like a part of me has been chopped off. But I'm learning to live with it, or rather what is left of it. After all, maybe there's more to me than just my hair.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Shut up & move on
Meet a fresh graduate from a month of his graduation and ask him about college life. You'll notice the solemn tilt of head, the gloomy drop of the chin and the inevitable "I cannot believe four years passed so quickly". Well for me, it was an era. Something I thought would go on for ever. And especially, the final semester.
What with just half of us on campus, freshers taking over all our favourite hang-out spots, graduation hanging like an ominous cloud in the distance, friends breaking up, bonding, re-bonding, solemn oaths to be nice to everyone before we leave, going out every alternate day because we are 'sick' of the campus, staying back every alternate day knowing we'd miss the darn old place, the numerous farewells, people talking about future plans and goals, hostel assistant being extra nice since she needn't have to put up with us the following semester, signing yearbooks, buying parting gifts.. phew!! you get the idea. Everyone gets caught up in this insane rush and there was more than a moment when I wished life had a pause button to it.
The last few weeks were decidedly the worst. People packing and sending their stuff home, fussy juniors moving into what had been our home for ages, pulling out the 'It's my mess and I like it' posters from the walls, being yelled at by Madhuri for vandalizing the doors with a black jumbo marker, friends leaving for home, going to the station to see them off, crying on their shoulders and pledging to call every week, dragging our feet back to the hostel with an empty head and heavy eyes, and finally, pulling ourselves together to see the next set of friends off. Before this became a routine, it was my turn to leave. Having had my share of farewells and hugs and cries, I resolved not to let myself leave in a rush. I wanted to drink in the last few moments together and so remained a silent by-stander to watch the twenty odd people hugging and crying and laughing and cheering, emotions overwhelming them all at once. The journey passed in a daze and seemed like any other journey home from BITS. Only it did not hit me then that this time, there is no going back. I am not sure if the finality of what happened had sunk in yet or if I just cannot relate the occasional mood swings to anything in particular. But every time I hear my phone beep, I know its one of my friends calling to find out how I am doing. I know that even though everyone had moved on with their lives, there's always time for an occasional evening out, a phone call and a hug.
Having recently met the few of us who are still in Bangalore one evening, I realized it's OK. It's OK to part, as long as we are still in touch and we know everyone's doing just fine. If college has taught me many things, the biggest by far is to shut up & move on.
What with just half of us on campus, freshers taking over all our favourite hang-out spots, graduation hanging like an ominous cloud in the distance, friends breaking up, bonding, re-bonding, solemn oaths to be nice to everyone before we leave, going out every alternate day because we are 'sick' of the campus, staying back every alternate day knowing we'd miss the darn old place, the numerous farewells, people talking about future plans and goals, hostel assistant being extra nice since she needn't have to put up with us the following semester, signing yearbooks, buying parting gifts.. phew!! you get the idea. Everyone gets caught up in this insane rush and there was more than a moment when I wished life had a pause button to it.
The last few weeks were decidedly the worst. People packing and sending their stuff home, fussy juniors moving into what had been our home for ages, pulling out the 'It's my mess and I like it' posters from the walls, being yelled at by Madhuri for vandalizing the doors with a black jumbo marker, friends leaving for home, going to the station to see them off, crying on their shoulders and pledging to call every week, dragging our feet back to the hostel with an empty head and heavy eyes, and finally, pulling ourselves together to see the next set of friends off. Before this became a routine, it was my turn to leave. Having had my share of farewells and hugs and cries, I resolved not to let myself leave in a rush. I wanted to drink in the last few moments together and so remained a silent by-stander to watch the twenty odd people hugging and crying and laughing and cheering, emotions overwhelming them all at once. The journey passed in a daze and seemed like any other journey home from BITS. Only it did not hit me then that this time, there is no going back. I am not sure if the finality of what happened had sunk in yet or if I just cannot relate the occasional mood swings to anything in particular. But every time I hear my phone beep, I know its one of my friends calling to find out how I am doing. I know that even though everyone had moved on with their lives, there's always time for an occasional evening out, a phone call and a hug.
Having recently met the few of us who are still in Bangalore one evening, I realized it's OK. It's OK to part, as long as we are still in touch and we know everyone's doing just fine. If college has taught me many things, the biggest by far is to shut up & move on.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
My Hero
Let’s call him hero. My hero. Few people make a lasting impression on our lives. They walk in and leave their foot prints all over. This hero walked into my life unasked on a sunny sunday morning. I met him at a traffic signal.
The highway was crowded with the usual Sunday shoppers, vendors with screechy voices thrusting their wares in front of unsuspecting customers, software employees on their way to the ritualistic weekend parties. Each of them had a week’s strain and varying degrees of boredom written across their faces. The signal being an exceptionally long one, they had nothing much to do but give in to the merciless squeaks of the hawkers. The lady at the wheel of the adjacent car was making best use of time by applying gobs of a slimy something to an already soiled face. The guy on the other side was watching her in wide eyed wonder. Two teenagers on a bulky two wheeler were contributing the whirrs of their engine to the hustle and bustle of the hawkers.
It was then that he emerged. And from no where in particular. Gliding noiselessly, he made his way into the crowd. Dressed in faded jeans and an over sized pullover, he sported one of the liveliest grins I’ve seen in some time. How many of us have seen super heroes for real? Well I did, along with a myriad other people stuck in the Sunday morning traffic lights. From the time he entered, he had us all hooked. The casket containing the slimy something was forgotten and the two soiled lids in the next car lit up in amazement. The whirring of the motor stopped as if by a charm and the two pairs of juvenile eyes gazed in wonder at the mesmerizing spectacle in front of them. Looks of incredulity crept across their faces. Hawkers for the first time looked as bored with their wares as did their customers. It’s not everyday that a super human leaves his land of make-believe and decides to take a look at ours. Our hero, looking as unperturbed as ever, took his place centre stage and had us watch open mouthed his display of magic…
Well what would I say? Matrix stars and Hrithik Roshans of the world please bow low. For here comes a supreme force to take you guys down in a single sweep. To speechless adulation and noiseless applause, our hero bowed to his spectators and in a fluid motion, landed next to our car. Should I mention that I rolled down the window for what seemed like an eternity? The lights turned green in a second and the five rupee coin disappeared in a flash into the pocket. And I was bestowed with a charming grin to cheer up the rest of my holiday. I can’t decide which shone brighter that day, the five rupee coin or the five year old’s face.
The highway was crowded with the usual Sunday shoppers, vendors with screechy voices thrusting their wares in front of unsuspecting customers, software employees on their way to the ritualistic weekend parties. Each of them had a week’s strain and varying degrees of boredom written across their faces. The signal being an exceptionally long one, they had nothing much to do but give in to the merciless squeaks of the hawkers. The lady at the wheel of the adjacent car was making best use of time by applying gobs of a slimy something to an already soiled face. The guy on the other side was watching her in wide eyed wonder. Two teenagers on a bulky two wheeler were contributing the whirrs of their engine to the hustle and bustle of the hawkers.
It was then that he emerged. And from no where in particular. Gliding noiselessly, he made his way into the crowd. Dressed in faded jeans and an over sized pullover, he sported one of the liveliest grins I’ve seen in some time. How many of us have seen super heroes for real? Well I did, along with a myriad other people stuck in the Sunday morning traffic lights. From the time he entered, he had us all hooked. The casket containing the slimy something was forgotten and the two soiled lids in the next car lit up in amazement. The whirring of the motor stopped as if by a charm and the two pairs of juvenile eyes gazed in wonder at the mesmerizing spectacle in front of them. Looks of incredulity crept across their faces. Hawkers for the first time looked as bored with their wares as did their customers. It’s not everyday that a super human leaves his land of make-believe and decides to take a look at ours. Our hero, looking as unperturbed as ever, took his place centre stage and had us watch open mouthed his display of magic…
Well what would I say? Matrix stars and Hrithik Roshans of the world please bow low. For here comes a supreme force to take you guys down in a single sweep. To speechless adulation and noiseless applause, our hero bowed to his spectators and in a fluid motion, landed next to our car. Should I mention that I rolled down the window for what seemed like an eternity? The lights turned green in a second and the five rupee coin disappeared in a flash into the pocket. And I was bestowed with a charming grin to cheer up the rest of my holiday. I can’t decide which shone brighter that day, the five rupee coin or the five year old’s face.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Here i am..clap clap!
I am an avid thinker. I lose myself into the depths of thought more often than I would like to. Nevertheless, the fall is pleasurable. Sometimes the process becomes so complicated that I cannot separate out the individual threads of thought at will. People, places, incidents and emotions, all are intertwined. My mind is a writhing whirlpool. And here I empty it. Into the Witchcasket..
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