Metro Diaries # 9: The newest stories, Part 2

The Book Suggestion Seeker

If you have an hour to kill in the Metro, and if you're me, you would prefer to spend a good part of it doing something useful—reading, planning your to-do list, getting work done. Recently, my target job for Metro time included reading and reviewing a book called Emotional Rescue by Dgozchen Ponlop (you can find the review here. If you'd care to know, I managed to write 90% of the review using my phone. I'm getting awesomer at this).

I was done with reading, and had nothing else to read, so when I sat down for the evening journey back home, I thought I'd go through the book again and jot down points to write in the review. While I was doing so, I thought the girl sitting next to me was reading whatever I was writing down, so I did that shuffling thing—moving from the writing page to a random reading page, to and fro in quick succession, so that her attention would be diverted. It's not that I don't want anyone else to read what I'm doing, but it just freezes my brain and I can't get another word out if I know someone's looking. Anyway, whatever I did had no effect on her, so I began to skim read the book instead, making points in my mind.

A few minutes later, the girl began to speak to me. She asked what was in the book. Damn! That obviously got me talking fast and quick. She was such an amazing listener--totally interested in whatever I told her, listening with rapt attention, never breaking eye contact. Just the sort of listener you need when you have to talk about books. Soon enough she started asking questions and sharing her problems—how she feels somewhat depressed sometimes and gets swayed by emotions, etc. I was supposed to offer solutions based on what I'd read in Emotional Rescue.

I did whatever I could, but that only got her more interested. Finally, in a voice full of lament, she said, "Oh, where are you getting down?" When I answered, she replied, "Oh, no... I'm getting down at the next station! It was nice to listen to you. Where do you get these books from? Can we get them from the metro station kiosks?"

"Um... you'll only get the popular ones there..."

"What about this one?"

"This has not yet been released. You can give me your email id. I'll write to you about it."

"Okay... and give me your number too!"

"Err... hey! That's your station!" I said, shoving her off the seat. The doors were opening, for heaven's sake!

"Yes! Take my number please!" she said. Her sense of urgency was contagious. I didn't even pause to consider, and whipped out my phone. Then I realized how it was so slow that she might as well reach my station before the phone would get unlocked. Thankfully I had a pencil in my hand.

"Here, write your number," I said, flipping to the last page of the book.

She scrawled her number, said thanks, and dashed out. Just in time.

It took me a week to write to her, and even then I was somewhat at a loss. I rarely read self-help and philosophy, and I honestly don't yet believe in the heavily marketed books in those genres. But they must have something that helps people, or else why would they be so popular? I ended up giving some recommendations based on a mix of what I'd read and liked, and what I thought would be good based on their reviews. A couple of short email conversations, and quite a good number of 'hi's in the metro later (because we recognized each other now), the emotional book saga is at a pause. 

But I'm always there ;)

Scoot gets a new parking place!

 This is not exactly a metro story, but it is related to metro parking space, so I'm including it.

When I first saw the big Pantaloons and Croma opening and functioning under the newly-constructed multi-level parking for which I had been waiting for years and which hadn't been opened to us yet, I had a hard time suppressing the urge to shout foul and rain kicks and fists on someone I could blame the problem. Here I was, hassled every day because they stole the good parking space and spent years constructing that new parking, only to have it made into a mall? Are people mad or what? (Yes, they are)

A few days later, I had to quickly find a dress. Working six days a week meant I did not have time to search a lot of places. Then my awesome (and ever so practical and sound-minded) friend P suggested a solution. "Look for a dress in the new Shopper's Stop at that mall. It's the closest to your place, and it's bound to have something you're looking for."

"Shopper's Stop? That place has a Shopper's Stop? Since when?"

"Uh... it's been around for a while." (and this girl lives miles and miles away!)

So we made our first journey to this place—I, G and mom—and made some useful discoveries.
The parking was huge, albeit a bit scary. But I was pretty much annoyed. Why was I having to look for parking spaces for my beloved Scoot when this mountain had taken our old space and was filling up with shoppers' cars!? A parking attendant came our way.

"Why isn't this a metro parking?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"Wasn't this supposed to be built as DMRC parking space for metro travellers?"
"But you can park your car here just as well," he said.
It was my turn to feel stumped. "You can? Two-wheelers too?"
"Of course. Many people do."
Was it my fault, though? No one ever talks about parking spaces. There was no information that the parking was available once more. However, it is owned by the mall, not DMRC. Not that it makes any difference to the commuters (because the rates are the same).

The next day, full of enthusiasm, I left home a few minutes early to make time for acclimatizing myself with the new parking space. As soon as I rode up the short slope, I was stopped by two guards. They wanted to check Scoot's boot, probably for the dead body of a cat (which is the most it could carry). I hopped off Scoot and showed them that I had no blood on my hands yet. They let me go. After a long path with bumpy speed-breakers at short intervals, there was an automatic ticket-wielding machine (which later became my time-watching-and-guessing-whether-or-not-I'll-be-late-that-day machine). After that, I was directed to a cut separate from the one we had taken the last time.

Riding a two-wheeler, the curved slopes were harder to manoeuvre. Scoot took me down, down, down, slowly. I passed one level but it was closed, and Scoot didn't slow down and it seemed to take forever to circle all the way two floors down. It was with relief that I saw a parking attendant waving at me. Finally, there were more scooters and bikes. Signs of life! In my newfound happiness, I parked wherever the attendant said. Finally, Scoot had a place to feel safe in while I was gone. No longer did it have to stay in the hot sun or endure passersby on its comfortable seat. It could be with its own clan for most of day. Yay!

I was so excited that I forgot to pick the parking slip from Scoot. Thankfully I realized it halfway to the elevators, and went back and got it. Now, and this is weird and 'only-in-India'ish, there were no stairs. Only elevators. I am scared of elevators. I would always take the stairs whenever possible. It took five minutes more than usual to reach my platform with the new parking space. Not bad. Except that I don't even have the capability (or the motivation) to reach soon every day, so sometimes I use the new place (I feel good on those days), sometimes I get late for work, and sometimes when I've been late enough, Scoot has to stay in the sun again.

***

I'm bored. Hopelessly bored. My head aches, my arm aches, my leg aches and so does my heart. Sometimes I feel so lost and oh so hopeless. What am I ever going to do in life? I need a good job. No, an "easier" job. The one I have is good, but not easy to manage. I need time for personal work, because I'm never satisfied with spending my days only working for someone. I want to work for myself, too. And it gets so difficult sometimes. I need a break. And I'm going to get one s soon. More about it later. I only hope it works well.

Reflections and grouchy talk.

No resolutions this time too, only reflections on how I survived the past year and what to do to make 2016 better. It was only yesterday that I realized that it’s the year-end already. Imagine how full your mind has to be for you to not even notice the year ending. 

Present status: I have a job I like, but I hate having working Saturdays and having to travel so much and thus being in constant interaction with uncivil beings. 

Desired status: Be so much in love with work that nothing makes me unhappy. At the present, a lot of things (and people) do. Try to ignore it (and them).

How well did I do in 2015?

1. Work wise: better than before, but need to think of ways to get to goals more ‘easily’. Having to struggle each day sucks.

2. People wise: not very well. I still dislike people who lack ethics, and I am totally vengeful (unfortunately, only feelings-wise) towards those who’ve hurt me. It’s only been aggravated by annoying people I’ve met recently. It’s not a good thing, I know. I’ll see what to do about it when I have the time.

3. Book-reading wise: very well through the year, except towards the year-end. Still, I think I crossed the 50 mark without counting, and read qualitatively, and reread and enjoyed old books (Harry Potter, for instance) too. Unfortunately, did not read all the books I’d planned, mostly because of work requirements.

4. Personality-development wise: not much. There’s just no time to think of presentation and planned speech when you have to run all the time. I’m still the harried-look-just-like-in-college person. Give me a break, and I’ll think of how to make new braids. Maybe.

5. Mental-development wise: apart from irritation and anger issues, I feel like I’ve aged a 100 years. Things I used to like and talk about a year or two earlier, are either too trivial or too boring. (Help me!!!)

While thinking about what I had resolved to do in 2015, I thought of ‘write, write, write’, but then I checked and found that I had written it in 2014!! This is NOT fair. I want a life where I can actually keep track of time. Get a LIFE, life!

What to do in 2016 to get a life

Keep calm: People in the metro and on the roads are only going to get worse. STOP worrying about them. Yes, I’ve faced a setback due to realizations of the truth and how what I thought of the world was so away from reality, but still, I need to GET A GRIP. I’m supposed to rule my life. I am supposed to be happy for the people who’re concerned about me. Either ignore those who act stupidly, or give it back to them (yes, that’s better).

Prioritize work: I must get that heavy project off my head as soon as possible, even if it takes two months of hibernating (as much as can be managed anyway, what with blood-sucking job and all). After that, plan career stuff. All this while, act chill. BE chill. Time is supposed to go slowly (the rocking time, not the sucky time).

Be happy: G is doing so well! YOU are doing well too. The book fair is coming! (“I have no friends to go with this time!” “You have mom!”) You’re gonna go on trips! You might even be on an airplane after all these years’ gap!

Do something: Ghostwriting has made me realize that I can actually write my own book. But it’s also made me realize that to make it happen, I’d need at least two months’ break. All right then, let’s stick to the original plan of writing after 40.

I need to learn to speak up for myself if anyone wrongs me and if it is unfair. Stop ignoring things that must not be ignored. Shut them up once and for all. Do not hesitate to hit an annoying fellow-commuter and pretending that it was a mistake. Hint, hint: It can be done just before getting off the train. (No. I’m not going to be so mean.)

I’ll also try to (no, I WILL) go ahead with a plan I made to get kids to read more (or any) books. Will give details if it’s carried out.

Read and write: Read those books I got two-three years ago! Although since some time at work is spent reading so many excessively cute children’s books, I’m not complaining much.

Lose weight: I’m serious, and this one is not going to go unchecked. Ask a girl the horror of not being able to fit into her clothes, and you’ll know! Although I’m proud to say that I’ve lost some with my ardent will power (of not eating junk food). Yay!

My point!!

Generally, I’ll try being less of a cribber and more of a happy person who loves life. I don’t love it at the moment, and I’ve become so crude that it doesn’t even matter if I’m posting it. It’s the truth after all. I mean, I am grateful for a lot of things, but the general ‘feel’ at the moment is lacking. It’s like I see nothing to complain about when I really think about it, but it only makes me feel more upset because it seems like I’m complaining for no reason. Oh, wait. Perhaps it’s just that I’m in one of my mood swing modes. Don’t let it get you. Have a blast and have a wonderful new year 2016! (TIME FLIES!) Let the new, new year be a year you'll forever remember! (Don't go to jail, though.)

What are you gonna do?

These days...

I'm going to write about how I have spent the past month of my life. That's also how the following ones are going to be like, if things go the same way, that is. If they don't, I hope it'll be better.

First, who the heck says that work life is fun? Perhaps they got the word wrong. Work life can be good or comfortable or exciting but 'fun' is just not the word! I like my job, really. Most of it anyway, if you keep aside the travel time and condition. I get to sit among people who are keen about books and dedicated in their jobs, and some of them know their jobs so well that I feel like I know nothing! 

Nevertheless, the new schedule is anything but comfortable. It is horribly, terribly trying and tiring. First off, it's a six-day work week. I had grown so accustomed to five days' work and take-work-from-home-any-day-you-feel-like that travelling just so far for six continuous days reduces my mind to near-zero (unfortunately, it has so far not had any reduction effect on the body) See? I don't even know what I'm writing here. It's only because I didn't think there was anything else (apart from writing a blog post) that would make me feel lighter. 

I mean, have you even paused to consider how arduous a task travelling so much in the metro would be? Sure, I don't have to change the train even once. BUT STILL! It's not even about the lack of rest one gets because one (that is, me) chooses to travel only in the women-only coach (because with so many women packed together, you cannot get a peaceful environment. Besides, I got to observe really exotic varieties too, but that's for another post). It's the horrible fact that I have to get down at a station in another and, pardon the honest expression, extremely-lacking-in-civic-and-feel-good-sense state, out of Delhi. I don't really hate Delhi as much anymore. :/ 

To begin with, I had two options--taking my own auto from one station, and taking a shared auto from another. Honestly, both are terrible in their own ways. How is one supposed to deal with that on an everyday basis, that too in the morning? Wait, I shouldn't be so pessimistic. I've been managing it so far, and I will manage it. Thank goodness for good people at the workplace who help during the afternoons! (God Bless You. May you never have to travel for work more than 15 minutes away)

Then there are the whole work days, which essentially leave me with barely four hours a day for myself, half of which are spent either eating (because I'm starved during evenings) or settling down to rest. For the rest of the two hours, there's the only program on TV I started watching but which has turned horrible so I don't watch it anymore, there's talking to people offline and online, and well, just staring into space and thinking about life and then preparing to sleep. I know, I could use that little time to do something exciting or useful like blogging (finally managed it after a month, eh?) or anything else. But most days are too mentally tiring to do anything except staring into space and thinking randomly. 

This is how I look like these days

Did you wonder why I didn't mention reading so far? Oh no, I'm not going to not mention it, because behold! The upside of travelling so much and among noisy women is that I can immerse myself into a book and ignore it all! Ha! You can't beat that kind of freedom (although it is sometimes beaten by the sheer number of women in the coach. No one cares about population explosion anymore). So I have actually gotten around to reading the books I never picked up in my leisure time, because it is a very clever way of forced reading. It goes like:

"Read this book or deal with the aunty who's been picking her nose. She's standing right beside you, too." 

Or

"Wouldn't you rather use all your focus trying to comprehend this excessively difficult piece of text than looking up and finding this made-up-like-a-toy girl reading 50 Shades of Grey on her phone?" (No offence to reading choices, but still. Seriously, woman?)

So really, there's little choice. In this time of a month, I managed to read:

1. (Wow. I actually had to hop on to Goodreads to see what I read) Roads to Mussoorie by Ruskin Bond (you know why)

2. What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge (A children's classic; bought months ago from a book-flea market)

3. Moonfleet by J.M. Falkner (A children's classic I had been meaning to read for YEARS! It's wonderful. Find my review here)

4. The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka (of which The Metamorphosis was the best, followed by umm... maybe three more stories that I liked. The rest were, for the time being, mildly interesting. No wonder people called his texts 'crazy' and incomprehensible. It still takes a crazy mind to decipher his meaning)

5. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (Oh boy. Do read this one. Just DO it.)

6. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame (Again, a children's classic I'd had for a couple of years. I remember always putting it off, so had I not had this job, this book would have stayed unread for a loooong time)

7. Dealing with Dragons by Patricia Wrede (A children's book AGAIN! It's about an unprincessy princess who chooses to be a dragon's princess, enjoys working for her dragon, deals with wizards and gets into fights with them, and finally saves the day.)

My current read is called A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson, which would have remained unread for years had I not dedicated this metro time to it. It's anything but short, and anything but a light read. Sure, it's definitely fun in the way it's written--the author's mentioned some of the popular and great contributors to science, and provided details of how someone slouched so much on the sofa that his butt touched the floor or how someone was called a buffoon by another popular guy. Of course I don't remember all those names now. The thing I did learn, however, was that there have been people thoroughly devoted to their work and have discovered such amazing things. What am I even doing in my life? Seriously need to give it a thought. I also learned that if you do find out something amazing, don't be a shy-baby or be secretive, because someone else will either steal your ideas when you are dead (or alive), or will discover it a century later. Then the world (and school textbooks) will remember and credit them for what you did before, only because you thought keeping quiet was decent manners.

Coming back to my month, nothing else that is exciting has happened, except:

1. Looking at three books I had worked on, in print. And what a beautiful print, too! :D

2. A 12-hour trip to Agra, of which 8 were spent sitting in the car. And then realizing that Agra looks good only in history textbooks.

3. Riding a motor-bike just a few hours ago! I didn't get it in the first attempt (in which I ended up riding it as if it were a camel. It just did. not. go. smoothly!), but looking at G getting it right in the first attempt, I made a second, much successful one. 8|

4. That's all. I can't really spend the last half hour before I sleep using my brains even further. They're already exhausted today, thanks. 

I also wanted to mention a couple of things I have not been liking these days. They're more like revelations or things that I have known but those that are annoying me all the more now. One is the obvious dependence on and love for social media, but let's just not get into it right now. The other is the apparent breaking up of some friendships with the concerned people acting like nothing's wrong, while it's quite obvious because we haven't spoken in... months now. It's annoying but it's also sad. What can we do, though? To each his own. If I had the time and mental space I'd have done something about it, but guess what, I can't, and it turns out that I feel like I don't even want to. There's also an age-limit for doing and accepting drama in one's life, I think. 

Anyway, there's a fever and I've been sitting typing this out and I've to get up early for work. Ciao!!

Whoever you are, there's only one you!

Since I'm not any scientific researcher, I can't say things for anyone but myself. Plus, I'm too lazy overworked to actually search for similar findings, so I'll simply stick to my own observation. Surrounded by media at all times, usually not having enough understanding, or even motivation, to look at oneself in seclusion, we are very much susceptible to getting into the mindset of what constitutes 'normal'. It's not defined by ourselves, but by what we see around us. Mostly we say we agree with it, so that's also our own perception of how things are. But haven't you ever thought just about yourself? Seeing yourself in isolation and getting scared at how you 'actually' look at things? Because it is scary, the idea that what you really feel is so different and strange and unreal, yet that's the thing that makes you feel best.

However, like always, that is not what this post is about! There were just a few instances and moments when I thought that perhaps, what happens with me is something that can happen only with me. Those things aren't what you would have anyone else say, 'That happened with me too!' Maybe they did, but to me, at that moment, it felt like I'm just one in all the people in the world. Someone who has something that no one else can have. And that's the thing, isn't it? The beauty, the excitement, everything lies in small details. :')

#1: That's what is on my wrist

Ignoring the small (but awesome) readership of this blog, I'd ask, is there anyone else in the country who would have a silver and black clasp-oval-bangle, exactly like the one I have? Like the one I wear on special days, because it is cute and specially bought for me by dad when he was in a random local market in Dushanbe (Tajikistan). Let's make it easier: at any given time, how many girls in India would be wearing such a thing, brought by their dad from that particular market, just for them? There were no duplicates, according to what I was told, so the possibility of anyone else with the same situation and treasure is close to zero, right? Isn't that something to make anyone feel special and unique?

#2: That's what I'm reading

The probability of a girl reading a book called The Girl With All The Gifts in a metro train in the morning would also be very low. That one time when I realized it, I am sure I was the only one who experienced that moment, the only one to be reading that book in that metro. Or perhaps the only one among all the metro trains that day. 

#3: That's what I know

I'm most certain about this one! I'm the only one who knows stories from my grandmom's childhood: certain details from her life as a kid in Rawalpindi (in present day Pakistan), her life as a refugee in Delhi right after the partition, her relation with her siblings. Discussing it with her children, I realized no one else knows it in as much detail as I do, which leaves me to be the only living person who's aware of those stories. Is that brilliant or what? *_*

#4: That's what I call branding!

Did you know the origin of the word 'brand'? Ages ago when there were slaves, and perhaps even now with farm animals, permanent tattoos got stamped onto the skin to 'brand' them as belonging to a particular person/owner. In the present world, we swear by different brands. A couple of days ago, I was ironing one of my jackets. Realizing that I need to check the temperature, I put my hand on the jacket to see how warm it already was, so I could accordingly adjust the level in the iron. It seemed overly hot, if the way the jacket's logo on the lapel got imprinted on my palm was any indication. I'm not kidding. It's been three days, and you can still see the tiny dots going around in two curves. On my palm! Now who in the world would have that happened to them? o.O 

These are just some recent examples to prove how you don't really need to get your brains eaten up, wondering how to seem different. Stop trying. You're already the only piece of you in this world, unless you've resorted to cloning or getting illegal echoes made. Probably whatever you're doing right now (except reading this blog. It's not only you who reads this -_-) has something in it that no one else in the world would have. Feel special already, dude! ^_^

---

Update: I'm so exhausted that it's just the idea of having written a blog post today that's keeping me motivated. It's a Sunday, and I spent the entire day doing some or the other work, the most important of which I haven't even begun! Where do I even start explaining? Probably for the first time in my life, I'm being SO busy (the initial work-time when you get over-excited and take on more work than possible for anyone), that it's just so weird. I don't know how the days pass and I have no idea when I would be able to just chilllllll with a book on a weekend! Speaking of which, I'm not even getting an opportunity to read whatever I want to! Can you believe that? It's because I presently have three things to take care of. All of which require me to read and write and think and be as creative as possible. Plus, all of them have strict deadlines. If that's not mentally exhausting, I don't know what is! I like all of it too, but all I ask is for one day. :| 

I guess I should behave and not fret over it. In fact, the only thing I should be doing right now is to quickly post this and start working, considering the deadline is tomorrow! More than that, I should totally stop thinking about how I just want to sleep. Focus, focus, FOCUS! 

If I were a witch...

Disclaimer: By 'witch', I am not referring to any kind of society/group that exists. Here, witch is referred to in the fictional sense.

***

Actually, I AM a witch, if one were to believe my younger brother G. I was having one of those urges where tiny voices shout in your head, 'write! write! write!' but I didn't have much idea of what to write about. I asked G for a prompt and got this one.

'Write about how you are a witch...

Or what would you do if you *really* got the powers of a witch...

Or about how you hate muggles...'

He nearly earned a bone-crushing hug at that, but he's good at dodging such impulse-driven actions, so the moment passed. And I got this prompt.

When I started thinking about it, I realized that our siblings might be the only ones who know the facts about us, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized I really have the characteristics associated with a witch! Woohoo! Now, G might have imagined me as the hooked nose, black robe wearing, broom yielding witch we used to watch in cartoons, while I wanted to imagine myself as Hermione, but then, why not the traditional one? It's not that they were wicked most of the times. They were mostly shunned by society because everyone feared their knowledge and non-conformity to patriarchy. So if we go by a mix of the good and the bad, we can then look at me, and draw parallels. Let's begin:

# 1. Respect for brain power

Witches are said to hold deep, ancient wisdom and knowledge, especially when it comes to psychology and people. I'm nowhere close to wise, but I do have an interest, and a deep reverence for ancient knowledge and the powers of the brain. Calling oneself smart brain-wise would be preposterous, so I'd refrain from doing that publicly (no matter no one reads this anyway, and no matter how true it is!), but I have to say it's a big, big wow factor above all else. If you tell me you've invented something, that would be the most attractive thing you could say. ^_*

# 2. Intolerance for stupidity

We're all stupid, but some transcend the basic levels and stay high up on the idiocy radar, so that no matter what they speak, it always sounds stupid. And that's what people with agendas relating to doing something awesome, are intolerant to. Sorry, but if you act stupid, we don't. have. the. time. for. it. Goodbye!

# 3. Muggles. -_-

True, everyone could not have been born with magical gifts (kindness, empathy, common sense, to list a few), so there would always be those who either are always harping about the same old things all the time, or those who lack security in their lives and instead of coming to terms with it, they make things miserable for others. Those who fall in this category are muggles, and I wish we could just concoct a brew with pig-tails and salamander nails for ingredients and give it to them, so they can drink it and attain nirvana or at least get better. But alas, forcefully attempting to heal people is not allowed, and in case of witches, it's unlawful! Huh. Proof that the world is overflowing with muggles.

# 4. Living for yourself first

I so miss the time when people were not into social media. I do, I do, I so do! Staying away from it is not the solution, in case you were about to suggest that, because in that case, I'd be left with stray dogs for company, who happen to be the only beings not yet ensnared by it. Even cats have a huge following. But I suffer from dogophobia, and even if I continue my 'no-more-than-half-hour-of-FB-a-day' streak (which, by the way, has made my life much awesomer), I'd still wish we could go back to the good ol' days. :') I think I digressed from the point, but not much. I do prefer to live away from all the noise that internet causes, what with information overload about *the* most crucial things we might miss. Just like those witches feel energized with natural elements like water and the good ol' countryside, I wish I could live like that now. Too old for all ze jazz.

# 5. Seemingly scary to people

This is my favourite. :') I can make people think I'm a scary person; that I'd snap at them if they cross me for any reason, even though that's far from the truth. I used to get annoyed by this earlier, but hey, it's saved me from a lot of disgusting stuff. Annoying kids in school, for example. More annoying people after school, and anywhere else, basically. Don't want to talk to someone? Your poker face would keep them away. Yay! 

It's not really that bad, you know? Heck, I love it. That leaves only a few people who know you for you, who know what your expressions - scary or not - really, really mean, and that makes them really, really special, innit? :')

# 6. Rebellious

After all the time I've spent trying to 'repair' this thing, I've finally accepted it as an inherent thing in me. It just comes naturally and I can't help it. In fact, I wouldn't mind if you call me sadu on my face (wait. You already do -_-), because that's how I am. I hate a lot of things, and don't you go telling me how I need to accept everything, because you have to see that the things I hate actually are hateful, okay? I hate having people around who don't mean much to me (probably why I avoid social gatherings), I kind of hate having someone tell me what to do (in that 'I-know-everything-you-don't-know-anything way) and I hate how books without anything to learn from, except a two minute entertaining thought, are having a huge market. And as for people...

# 7. Independence

Continuing the saduness, I hate being dependent on someone for most things. The top-most reason I love Scoot is because of the independence it offers. No more flagging down riksha/auto-riksha/whatever if you can travel all by yourself. If I could cook (believe it or not, I actually want to learn cooking now), I'd do that myself too. Like all witches who happily do all that they can themselves, I prefer doing the same.

# 8. Carefree

I used to be carefree till about two years ago, after which I was thrown into hell a place that sucked it all out. Now I'm going back to being awesome again, so I guess I can count that too. 

Caring about what people think about how I look/talk/do things? Nah. 

Caring about doing things just so it looks 'nice'? Nah.  

Caring about how some people might think you're selfish? I seriously don't care. 

It's not that I've turned mean, but I'm just preferring my own likes/dislikes. It's important to know myself better, and this is a part of it. So deal with it.

There could be more similarities, as G very helpfully pointed out.

Witchie much?

"You're a sadist... but I think you're a cute sadist. Then, umm... you're also like... who's that guy in Germany? Hitler! You're dictatorial. You're also clever, and loud, and you like to travel to places so you wish for a broom like a witch's (my comment: yusss!) and well, I've always said you look like a... "

By this time, I'm not listening. These are enough for now, don't you think? When I Google searched witches, I got really serious stuff, but I'm limiting myself to the casual witch reference. Y'know, that's more... sadu sounding. ;)

Go ahead. Call me a witch. Proud to be one. ;) 

Metro Diaries #6: Lateness, just like how it used to be!

You remember how it used to be on the good old days of my undergrad when I reached college hardly on time? And then MBA happened and it all became a sad past. But seems like some things just come up so you cherish the past instead of feeling horrible about it. I'm late to college. *Very* late, in fact. And if I think about how it all happened, you'd say it's because of my carelessness, which is probably true, but I'd like to give it the benefit of doubt and call it a classy God-wants-you-to-be-late-due-to-some-insane-divine-logic thingy. (What? I'm still me, hence, hopeless with names :P)

So what happened was, I got up with a *lot* of difficulty, considering how tired I was coming back from the farewell yesterday. (Yess. The end is nearly there! And oh by the way, the title I got was 'Paperback Princess'. I always end up getting bookish stuff o.O or princessy stuff. Both, in this case, which is actually awesome). And also considering the fever and all that jazzy (but non-awesome) things that happen that make you want to sleep. But I was still ready on time and ready to shoot out when I realized I had to put my stuff in my usual bag. Throwing in both 6-subject notebooks (no time to check the subjects), and the lunch box (still the old one. What did the maid do with the new hot pink lunch box mom got???), I rushed out, sat on Scoot and rode off. *speed, speed, speeeed* 

Halfway through I decided to do a mental check to see if I had everything I'd need. That's when I realized I forgot the laptop at home, which we'd be needing in class today. Recalling my group partner's Whatsapp message. *shoot* Instead of turning right like I had to, I took a u-turn and *speed, speeeeed, speeeedddddd* rushed back home, parked Scoot outside and *knock knock*, waiting for the door to open. I rushed inside and packed in the laptop, not forgetting the charger this time. Throwing out one spiral notebook (who has time to check the subjects????), packing the bag again and rushing out. It's drizzling. 

It had started to rain while I was rushing back home and it was still drizzling. The maid, like always believing she's the queen of the world or whatever, advised me to take a riksha instead, in case the rain goes bad and I'm stuck in some weird place. And I like an idiot dismissed my own brain and took her advice. Taking the sole rickshaw available, who did not even have change for a 100, I dragged myself towards the metro station. It's such a pain to be in a snail-paced rickshaw, and think about my pain when it did not even rain a drop.
---___--- 

I don't know why I keep using this picture.
It is just so "me" :P

I reached my station 5 minutes after the deadline time I have for myself to be able to reach college on time. It would still have been okay had it not been for the awesome fact that I had forgotten my Metro card at home. In another bag in another place, where I had kept it for use yesterday. *Note to self: never ever forget metro cards while changing bags* I had to take a ticket! The vending machine (those new thingies they put instead of letting normal human beings do the job) was very conveniently 'out of service'. The customer care had a long line and the line was half as long for the other TVM. I walked towards it and saw no Metro official. The people were playing with the machine on their own and since the awesome machine doesn't accept any other denomination than 10 and 20 and I had neither, I had to go back to the long customer care queue and wait for my turn. Spying on people, I realized that everyone was just recharging their cards and I almost decided to go back to the other counter that seemed to be open, but then thankfully the guy before me got a ticket and I asked for one too. Got it! 

It was half hour for the class to start and I had a 40 minute metro ride, not counting the train-change time. Plus the rickshaw-to-college time. God! Whatsapping a friend, I got some solace thinking he's 4 stations ahead of me, late too. But still. What if the whole class turns up on time and I'm the only one who is like, 20-25 minutes late and the teacher doesn't allow me inside and I have to go back, embarrassed? O.o Not that I care about that, but I can't miss the class because I have already somehow missed 4 of this subject and we're allowed to only miss 3. And for the three days I did not go to college and wasn't well, I had the medical certificate which I think was in the spiral notebook I threw back and left at home. I want to die. 

But it's okay. It is a bad day, even you have to agree. I ran to take the shorter (and more crowded) route and then the not-so-tempting general coach just because it would help me walk less on that insanely long platform at my station. I was around 10 minutes late for the class, which, considering all the kattas that happened, was not at all bad. And just when I had jumped up on a rickshaw for college and had the tyre complete one revolution, I heard someone calling my name. Looking back, I saw a teacher waving at me and we stopped, waited for her to hop up on the rickshaw and then moved. It wasn't bad, except for the fact that I'm horrible at conversing with teachers. I don't know how others do it so easily. I just can't. -_-

20 minutes late to class. Eeps! Running towards the room, avoiding people too slow to move like the ninja I am, I reached class. And what do I see? Everyone casually strolling around, chatting and gossiping and homeworking and all such 'ings' that happen in a classroom. The teacher bent over the coveted attendance register, pen hovering, staring. Not quite understanding what he was doing, I went all, 'err sir? Ashna. Present!' :P And he went, 'Ashna? Oh yeah, present' :P Yay *_*

Why do weird things happen with me? I'm such a strange-things-magnet. I mean, these are the kind of things you can't even begin to explain to anyone. Suppose the class had started on time, imagine if it had been a sadu teacher instead and had asked why I was late, then? I couldn't even talk about the metro having a problem because that has now become a staple with the going-by-metro population which includes......everyone. But still. That is why I believe in God. He saves me. :P

PS- Two things. One, I need to write and write and write. My vocab is at an all time low. Two, I had typed 90% of this while going to college, in the metro, on the fone. I'm awesome or am I awesome? ;) :D

PPS- I've noticed this trend. When I write regularly, I hardly get any new followers and readers. And when I'm on an unmentioned hiatus, I seem to attract more bloggers to join the site. Why? -_- Are you guys, by any slim chance, implying that you'd encourage me to not post? -_- :P

OK "see you" for now. You should know I hate goodbyes.