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.

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Arbitary

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.