Rain, rain go away.

I love rain.  I classify things into two broad categories these days -:

1.Makes sense.

2.Doesn’t make sense.

Till last week, rain made sense. It’s absolutely striking to feel chilly after a humid summer day. And the grey in the skies, I don’t mind it at all. Grey is always grey,  if you know what I mean.  The various texts I recieve from one of my girlfriends.  “The weatherrrrrr <3” (yes multiple r’s and a virtual heart, no no no.) Makes sense.

This week, I look up and ask, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME.’ Rains in Delhi at this time of year, crappy idea. Commonwealth for one, is making it worse. What is WITH the roads? I pass by this sorry looking building everyday on my way to college. It says  “Commonwealth 2010, Dilli tayyar hai.” In front of that building, a river flows.  A big open manhole full of green god-knows-what overflows. It’s almost like spray-painting a big “Uhh really not.” on that sign.

Traffic, traffic. It’s some kind of curse, almost. Whenever I’m stuck in Delhi traffic, I try to recall if I’d something really evil earlier in the day. It’s almost as bitchy as Karma, delhi traffic.

Before I come to petty things like the ruined clothes and bad hair days, I’d like to tell you, with much amour-propre that I ninja-dodged my way out of a very slatternly rain water splash today. I continue to feel cool.

Moving on…

The frizzy hair, the hair fall. The sticky clothes. The stinky metro rides. Worst. Monsoon. EVAR. (Ray William FTW)

Oh well.


It’s late. College is so tiring, I can’t sleep.
I feel inarticulate. But I have to let out. Because this is exciting. Almost electrifying.
I spoke to an old friend after a long time today. Called him up, restless, jittery and almost aggressive. Now the thing about old friends is, the tiny quivers in your voice are a very easy catch on their radar. I didn’t have to whine for a “what happened?”. After my askew rambling, my friend came to a conclusion. “You’re in love.”
Now we could go on and on about love. About how fucked up it is. About how absolutely magnificent it is. But that’s not the point.
The point is, apparently, I am in love.
What bullshit, I thought, as I put a generous amount of butter in my maggi (a new recipe I learned today at a very messy boys’ apartment.)
Then I thought. (Thats what I do, I think)
I love my best friend, who’s on a cruise to Alaska. She calls me and cries about how her swimsuit changed color under the sun (NO KIDDING).
I love my other best friends. They are freaks (one of them is schizophrenic, in her own mild way)
I love the countless memories of school. Before, after, in between.
I love college. I belong there. They know me, you know?
I love the 4 hour long theater practices everyday, the 8 rounds of the lawn they make us run for stamina. (SO MUCH WEIGHT LOSS)
I love that my Dad is a fighter.
I love that my dog is rolling in his sleep as I write this.
I love the first awkward hugs, and lingering eye contacts, the long conversations with strangers.
I love the book lying on my bed, waiting to be read. ( I love how I just rhymed)
I love the old letters I have, the pictures, the little chits of paper.
Life sucks. And it’s hard. And oh-my-god-please-make-things-easier. But hey, it’s not that bad. It’s not that hard to be in awe of life, be amused by it, be in love with it.
A lot of Beatles in the background. Another late night conversation.
That’s all.